Chapter Text
Sanemi had no reason to believe that punishing Mitsuri for her reckless behavior was wrong. Out of all the Hashiras, she was the most naive, and Muzan had effortlessly taken advantage of her. Because of her, Sanemi's younger brother was kidnapped and used as a lab rat by some twisted demon doctor. Every single victim of the mass abduction had been taken to that doctor's lab, where they were being turned into demons.
Sanemi had witnessed the aftermath of Muzan’s cruelty firsthand. He was there when a fellow Demon Slayer took his own life after being forced to slaughter his own wife and three children, who had been turned into demons by Muzan. The memory haunted him—finding the doctor’s lab and raiding it, only to discover the horrific reality of the situation. The doctor had unleashed the demon slayer’s family on him, and Sanemi and the slayer had been forced to kill them to protect each other.
Sanemi blamed himself for not noticing the threat sooner, too desperate to find his brother to see the danger. He wanted to thank the slayer for saving his life and apologize for what had happened to his family, but by the time he had mustered the courage to speak with him, it was too late. The slayer had hung himself, leaving a note that read, “My family needs their father on the other side.”
It was unfair—Mitsuri deserved that fate, not the slayer. If he had stayed focused on killing that demonic doctor, she would have been dead by now. But she was still out there, building new labs, turning more innocent people into demons. It was Sanemi's responsibility to hunt down and kill every last one of the doctor’s demons, to find the doctor, and to save his brother.
At least one of those promises had been fulfilled when a Demon Slayer happened to find Genya after he had escaped. Sanemi wanted to thank that slayer, but once again, he was too late. The slayer had quit and fled with his family after a confrontation with Kagaya, who had been deceived by a fake wife for an entire year, unaware that his real wife had been abducted by Muzan. The Demon Slayer Corps was on the brink of collapse, trust in Kagaya shattered as everyone reeled from their losses.
Sanemi had even seen Kyojuro begin to drink heavily, trying to drown the memory of finding his father’s rotting corpse and the letter from his little brother. The letter explained how Amane had convinced him to kill their father and run away to become a demon.
Then Mitsuri had returned, grinning from ear to ear, while everyone else was living in the hell Muzan had created. She had been consorting with the monster who had caused all their suffering. A crow had overheard Muzan thanking Mitsuri for betraying the location of the Demon Slayer’s home a year earlier. Muzan had proposed to her with a ring he had stolen from Amane, and Mitsuri had flaunted it in front of her. That was when everyone silently agreed—Mitsuri needed to suffer as much as possible for what she had done.
Three years had passed, but the world was still in chaos. The demons that had vanished mysteriously for a year had suddenly reappeared, all of them born in Tamayo’s lab. Sanemi cursed himself for not paying more attention to her. If he had, he could have killed her and prevented these new demons from existing.
"I’ll kill you for what you did to Lower Moon 1, evildoer!" Sumi cried out, her voice filled with conviction. She refused to believe she was on the wrong side. Genya pulled Sanemi out of the stone wall, and Sumi sank back into the ground, using her usual ambush tactics. Sanemi knew what he had to do, but the thought of it twisted his gut—he had to kill three innocent little girls who had been turned into demons by Muzan. If only he had focused on killing Tamayo, none of this would be happening.
“You killed innocent people,” Sanemi shouted, the bitterness in his voice undeniable. “And you kept Obanai in jail for years.” He scanned the area and noticed a small bump in the ground, moving erratically. Sumi was using her usual method, attacking from below, catching people off guard.
Sanemi realized that Sumi could only talk when she was above ground, and he assumed she could only navigate properly when her head was out. He just needed to wait until she surfaced, then he could end it. But the thought of killing her—a little girl, an innocent soul—gnawed at him. She had been turned into a demon because he had failed to kill Tamayo. Everything that had happened in the last three years was a consequence of his failures.
He had failed to protect his brother from being kidnapped, leaving Genya with PTSD and a mutated body. He had failed to keep his guard up against the demon family, leading to the painful burial of Genya alongside their family. He had failed to kill Mitsuri, and now she was out there, torturing and killing people. People were suffering because he kept failing.
Sumi’s head finally popped out, gasping for air as if she had been underwater for too long. She thought she had surfaced far enough away to catch her breath before sinking back down, but Sanemi was quicker than she anticipated. With a single, swift motion, he lopped off her head.
"Move in and kill her," Sanemi commanded himself, feeling the weight of another innocent life taken because of his failures. He couldn’t shake the thought that everything would have been different if he had trusted his gut and confronted the fake Amane. It had always seemed odd to him—how she suddenly had those sun earrings, became a follower of this god named Yoriichi, and focused on founding a village and making the Ubuyashiki family the richest and most powerful around. Those were things the real Amane would never have done. But it wasn’t Amane—it had been Muzan all along.
Several Demon Slayers had switched sides because he had failed to recognize the demon lord living among them. He had never once questioned why she started walking around with an umbrella, avoiding sunlight.
Sanemi approached the now headless Sumi. She was still gasping for air, even as her life slipped away. Unlike regular demons, Sumi needed to breathe, something must have gone wrong when Tamayo had turned her. Sumi, and probably the other two matching girls, were weaker than even the lowest-level demons.
But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were victims of his failure. Every demon now was born in Tamayo’s lab, and each of them, twisted in some unique way, reflected a change deep inside Muzan. The air felt thick with dread as Sanemi processed what had just happened, and the thought of more innocents turning into monsters gnawed at him.
“Goddammit, they’re back!” Genya’s voice cut through his thoughts. The villagers had returned, launching arrows at them with infuriating hit-and-run tactics. Mitsuri, having turned into a demon to fix her crippled body, had run back home to her parents and turned them into killers. Now, the entire village had adopted the habit of killing any Demon Slayer who wandered into their territory, even the youngest ones.
“You monster with the white hair, it was you who started torturing my little girl!” A jagged demon, twisted and malformed, approached them. Sanemi recognized her as Mitsuri’s mother, though now she was a fully-fledged demon. He had heard that she was human before entering the village, but seeing her now was a brutal reminder of how far things had spiraled out of control.
“Wait, how are you alive? Obanai killed her mom and dad!” Zenitsu shouted in disbelief. “Obanai, you lopped off both their heads! How are they alive?”
“How should I know!” Obanai was equally taken aback. “Since when can you turn a dead body into a demon?”
“Since me, snake boy,” a small voice chimed in. Another massive demon lumbered forward, but protruding from its back was the figure of a little girl. “So many good people are being killed by bad people, so Amane’s doctor gave me the mission, and the blood demon art, to bring as many of them back to life as possible.”
“A blood demon art that can bring a recently dead body back to life, but only as a demon,” Giyu analyzed, having recovered from being buried alive. “And you do that by melding your body with them.”
“Yes, Lady Amane gave all three of us a mission: to kill all the bad people in the world, and I need to bring back all the good people,” one of the triplets said. But before she could say more, Zenitsu blitzed the demon, carving off the part that one of the triplets was riding on, grabbed her, and ran back to Genya.
“Here, take a bite,” Zenitsu ordered, shoving the triplet toward Genya. But Genya recoiled in disgust at the thought of consuming the demon’s blood.
“Hell no! I don’t need a ‘bring back the dead’ power. Not interested in being on a god of death’s sh*t list.”
“Now you’re just being a yellow belly,” Zenitsu complained. But Genya stood firm—death was better than becoming a demon.
“Just throw her in the air so I can kill her yellow face,” Sanemi commanded. Zenitsu nodded and hurled the girl into the air, but something held him back.
Zenitsu's hands and arms were stuck fast to one of the triplets, her blood demon art binding them together in a way that made it impossible for him to slice her off without injuring himself. Panic set in as he realized the predicament he was in.
“What the hell? Why are my hands stuck?” Zenitsu yelled, struggling to free himself.
“You pervert! Why are you so glued to my Kiyo?” the last triplet teased, hiding behind Zenitsu. Her blood demon art had the ability to stick two things together, making her perfect for capturing people alive to be fed to the Upper Moons.
“You swapped sides!” Naho, another of the triplets, began to climb up Zenitsu’s back. “We were going to have Kiriya and Kanata as our new friends, and you helped the snake guy kill our new little brother, so you will pay,” Naho whispered menacingly into Zenitsu’s ear.
Zenitsu’s mind raced, trying to find a way out of this situation. He grinned, suddenly realizing an opportunity. “I will make your sister melt,” he said confidently. He had just seen the Kamado curse in action and knew what happened to demons who tried to harm a Kamado. This was his chance.
“Hey, Demon Lord! This little girl is going to hurt Nezuko. You better melt her before that happens!” Zenitsu yelled out, knowing that every demon aware of the Kamado curse feared it deeply. The two girls clinging to him felt the shift in his tone, and he bolted toward Nezuko, hoping to trigger the curse.
“No! No! That’s not true! We would never hurt a Kamado!” Naho screamed in fear, desperately trying to detach herself from Zenitsu. She knew Zenitsu was right—Tanjiro’s curse had made every demon terrified of even thinking about harming someone with the Kamado name.
“Hey, Tanjiro! You better melt these girls right now, or else they’ll kill Nezuko!” Zenitsu shouted, fully intending to scare the triplets into submission. Nezuko looked at Zenitsu with confusion as he charged at her, ready to use the triplet sisters as weapons if it meant triggering the curse.
“LET GO OF MY SISTER!” Sumi screamed in pure terror. Naho, who had reattached Sumi earlier, was now waiting underground for a sneak attack. She latched onto Zenitsu’s leg, gripping it tightly as if her sisters' lives depended on it. “It’s not true! He’s lying! Please believe us—we would never hurt a Kamado.”
Zenitsu saw the fear in their eyes and decided to push his advantage. “I’m a Kamado,” he said smugly. They had been willing to feed him to a demon, so why not put the fear of God in them? “My name is Zenitsu Kamado.” He lied, knowing that the Kamado curse would prevent demons from trying to disprove his claim without risking their safety.
“That’s not true. Kie Kamado only had four kids: Tanjiro Kamado, Nezuko Kamado, Takeo Kamado, and Hanako Kamado,” Naho said, managing to detach her sister from Zenitsu and pull her away from Nezuko.
“What about Rokuta Kamado?” Nezuko suddenly asked, noting that the youngest Kamado had been left out of Naho’s list.
Zenitsu's grin widened as he saw the confusion on their faces. “Does the demon never mention the last Kamado?” he pressed, realizing that Tanjiro might not even know about Rokuta’s existence. Rokuta had been only five years old when Tanjiro abandoned his family for his new life as the Demon Lord when he was around 10 years old.
The tension in the air thickened as Zenitsu’s words hung in the air. Nezuko’s eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and confusion. A heavy silence fell over the scene as everyone tried to process the implications of what Zenitsu had just revealed.
Nezuko’s question hung in the air, thick with the weight of something unspoken. “Does the Demon Lord not know about Rokuta?” she asked, her voice filled with confusion and a hint of sadness. Tanjiro had placed a curse to protect her and the rest of their family, but he had never mentioned their youngest sibling, Rokuta, to his other demons.
Sumi, her voice trembling, dared to ask, “Who’s Rokuta?” She was only slightly older than Rokuta would have been. The sight of these three young girls, so close in age to her little brother, made Nezuko’s heartache. They didn’t deserve this fate—they had been just children when Tamayo, in her twisted sense of morality, decided to turn them into demons.
“Where’s Tamayo?” Nezuko’s voice hardened with determination. Tamayo needed to die. Mitsuri, Aoi, Kanae, Genya, Sumi, Naho, Kiyo, and countless others had suffered as lab rats under Tamayo’s experiments. Muzan’s doctor was the embodiment of pure evil, and Nezuko couldn’t let her live any longer.
The triplets were too petrified to move or even speak. They were terrified of accidentally triggering the Kamado curse. Muzan must have demonstrated the curse to them, warning that it would befall them if they did anything he deemed wrong. Nezuko hated the curse, this spell now known as the Kamado curse. It had to be removed, no matter the cost.
Suddenly, a piercing scream broke through the tension. “You bitch!” Mitsuri’s mother, now a grotesque demon herself, yelled at Nezuko. “Was it true? Were you the one that cut my daughter’s fingers after saying, ‘Let’s make that pig scream’?” Her voice was filled with rage, but Nezuko was confused. It took her a moment to understand that Mitsuri, in her demonic state, must have forced her parents to relive a fabricated memory of being tortured.
Before Nezuko could respond, Genya seized the opportunity. “Hell yeah! You should have been there. She was proud of it, licking each of her fingers like they were candy,” he lied, hoping to provoke the curse.
Mitsuri’s mother’s rage boiled over, her demonic nature pushing her to act. “You monster, I will—” But before she could finish her sentence, her jaw suddenly melted off her body. Panic set in as she tried to step forward, but her foot dissolved into a puddle of liquid. Within seconds, she was reduced to nothing but a steaming pool of melted flesh.
“Holy sh*t, this Kamado curse rocks!” Genya smirked, the curse had worked even better than he anticipated. “Just thinking about hurting the little sister triggers it.”
The gruesome sight of Mitsuri’s mother dissolving into a puddle of goo served as a stark reminder of the power and fear that Tanjiro’s curse held over all demons. The triplets, already terrified, were now paralyzed with fear, knowing that any wrong move could lead them to the same fate.
“What did you do?” Another demon came up, very likely the father, before Nezuko could respond Zenitsu spoke even faster.
“She did it,” Zenitsu yelled pointing at Nezuko. Both Genya and Zenitsu were taking full advantage of the curse. “She loved making that demon melt like ice cream. The only thing that gives her joy in the world is watching beautiful people become a puddle.”
The demon growled and glared at Nezuko with murderous intent. Nezuko wanted to tell him that they were wrong but before she could even get a single wrong out the demon suddenly vomited out blood and some of his own liquid organs. Just wanting to hurt Nezuko was more than enough to trigger the curse.
Nezuko’s heart sank as she watched the demon, likely Mitsuri's father, meet the same horrifying fate as Mitsuri's mother. The curse had worked its terrible magic, turning a moment of anger into a death sentence. His body melted away, just as his wife’s had until nothing remained but a steaming puddle of flesh and blood.
“Kamado curse, motherf*cker!” Genya yelled, grinning as he high-fived Zenitsu. The two of them were reveling in the power of the curse, using it as a quick and brutal method to eliminate demons. Nezuko, however, felt nothing but disgust. No one should die like this—not even Muzan or Tamayo. This curse was a monstrous thing, and it needed to be undone.
She recalled how Mitsuri had told her that the more demons she killed, the weaker the curse seemed to become. Nezuko held on to that hope. By the time she ascended to the rank of Hashira, maybe—just maybe—the curse would fade completely, and no one else would have to suffer such a horrifying death.
But her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp twang of arrows. The three Hashira and Genya, Zenitsu, and Nezuko—had become the primary targets of the arrow-shooting villagers. Nezuko felt her stomach churn with revulsion. These weren’t demons—they were humans. But they were humans who had allowed a young boy to be turned into a demon, who lived day in and day out with the severed head of an innocent Demon Slayer displayed on a pike at their village entrance as if it were a trophy.
These villagers were beyond redemption. They had killed too many good, innocent people to be saved. Nezuko hated this—hated the thought of killing humans—but they were too far gone. This village was a twisted mirror of the final selection, where the worst parts of humanity had been laid bare.
She remembered how much she had hated seeing the participants of the abduction plan being put to death, even though she knew it was justified. This was no different. These villagers had made their choice, and now they would face the consequences. But even knowing this, the weight of what had to be done pressed heavily on her heart.
Nezuko's thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as she looked back at the petrified triplets. They were demons who had committed terrible acts—they fed people to other demons, tried to bury her teacher alive, and served a lower moon demon without hesitation. Yet, at the same time, they were once innocent little girls, misguided and twisted by Muzan's influence, much like how Amane had manipulated others.
Her hatred for Muzan intensified, a searing pain in her chest that made her reconsider everything. Muzan and his doctor, Tamayo, didn’t deserve mercy; they deserved to melt slowly and horribly, just like the demons who fell victim to the Kamado curse. But the thought of killing the triplets still tore at her conscience. They had attacked first, yes, and they had served a demon, but they were also victims—children who had been twisted into monsters.
The villagers, too, were no longer innocent. They had chosen to serve a demon, turning against their fellow humans, and murdering innocent people in cold blood. They had to face justice. But the weight of what needed to be done pressed heavily on Nezuko’s heart, pushing her to flee the scene, running toward the villagers' homes instead.
The house she entered was empty, cold, and lifeless. It felt as if death itself had taken residence there, and the oppressive silence was suffocating. As she moved through the empty rooms, Mitsuri's false memories began to play in her mind again—the imagined beatings, the mutilations, the betrayal by everyone Mitsuri once loved. Nezuko tried to shake them off, reminding herself that it was all a lie, a delusion created by Mitsuri's broken mind.
“It’s all fake, Nezuko,” she whispered to herself, trying to dispel the images. “Kagaya and Shinobu would never torture Mitsuri. They were kind—they let us live in that house for free. Mitsuri’s just—she’s not well.”
But the memories persisted, and so did the doubts. Mitsuri was trying to spread a terrible rumor—that Tanjiro was Muzan in disguise, pretending to be her brother. Nezuko refused to believe it. She couldn’t believe it. Tanjiro had been the one to provide for the family, to keep them safe and fed. He was her hero, someone she looked up to every day. The thought of him being anything other than the kind, brave brother she knew was unbearable.
“Like hell, I’ll ever believe that,” Nezuko muttered to herself, clenching her fists. Tanjiro had sacrificed so much for their family, even if his methods weren’t always morally clear. He had done what he had to do to ensure they survived. He was confident, and fearless—charging into danger without a second thought, like when he faced Lower Moon 2 without hesitation.
Nezuko’s determination began to waver as she moved from one empty house to another. Each lifeless room, each abandoned space, felt like a weight pressing down on her. The village was a ghost town—its inhabitants either turned into demons by Mitsuri or killed. The emptiness gnawed at her, filling her with a sense of failure that she couldn't shake.
She tried to focus on the memories that Mitsuri had planted in her mind, hoping to draw some comfort from them. But even those memories felt tainted, manipulated to serve some twisted purpose. Her thoughts drifted to the story of Kokushibo's interest in a mysterious mind-swapped demon—a woman who had once been her father’s lover. It was a vague memory, clouded by time and distance, but it nagged at her, pushing her to remember.
Nezuko couldn’t even recall the woman’s name, just the petty complaints her mother had about her father’s former lover. It was a distant part of her past, something she hadn’t thought about in over a decade. Yet, the possibility that this woman could be in danger now stirred something in her—a sense of duty, of unfinished business.
The more she thought about it, the more certain she became that the memory Kagaya had planted in her was false, a fabrication meant to serve a purpose. But that didn’t change the fact that this woman, whoever she was, might be in real danger. Kokushibo’s interest in her was unsettling, and if there was even a grain of truth in that memory, Nezuko knew she had to act.
She scoured the village, searching every house, every corner, hoping against hope that she might find some clue, some sign that the woman was still alive. But the village remained silent, devoid of life. The realization that she was too late, that she had failed her first mission as a Demon Slayer, hit her like a punch to the gut.
Nezuko thought of her brother, how Tanjiro’s first mission must have been a flawless victory, how he probably came back bragging about defeating Lower Moon 2. In contrast, she had failed to save a single person. She had come to this village to save someone, anyone, but in the end, she was the one who had been saved—by Obanai, no less, from a demon with twisted memories and intentions.
Her gaze fell to the mark on her hand, the one Mitsuri had given her. She didn’t know how or why, but it was there, a symbol of something greater than herself. It reminded her of her purpose, of the fight against Muzan that lay ahead. Nezuko clenched her fist, steeling herself once more. She had failed here, but that didn’t mean she would fail again.
This mark, this reminder of Mitsuri’s influence, would be with her for the rest of her life. It would guide her, push her to be stronger, to fight harder, and to never give up, no matter how impossible the odds seemed. Muzan was still out there, still a threat, and as long as she had breath in her body, Nezuko would keep fighting. She would protect the innocent, and bring justice to those who deserved it, and one day, she would face Muzan himself.
Nezuko rejoined the group, the weight of the empty village still pressing on her, but she kept her resolve firm. The triplets had left her alone, likely too terrified of the Kamado curse and their ignorance of who Rokuta Kamado was. They knew the risk of accidentally triggering the curse by harming someone they didn't even know existed.
“Where the hell did you go? We could have used that Kamado curse,” Genya grumbled, clearly frustrated.
Nezuko sighed, trying to explain the situation as calmly as possible. “If Mitsuri was willing to turn her own brother into a demon, then who knows how many people in this village were turned as well. But there was no one here. I think Muzan took them all to create another Kokushibo.”
Zenitsu’s frustration mirrored Genya’s. “He wants more Kokushibo, like that blade demon. But why?”
Sanemi, ever skeptical but always observant, chimed in, “Haven’t you heard? Some demons weren’t exactly thrilled with the change in leadership.”
Nezuko's expression hardened at Sanemi’s words. “Sanemi, are you seriously still believing that ridiculous rumor that Tanjiro and Muzan swapped bodies?” It was infuriating to her that they were clinging to a story spun by a traitor.
Tomioka added, “We all saw a demon die horribly just for thinking about hurting you, Nezuko. There might be some truth to it.”
Nezuko forced herself to think calmly, to not let her anger cloud her judgment. She needed to approach this like Kokushibo would—with strategy and rationality. “It’s possible that Muzan is spreading this false rumor to manipulate you all into turning against my brother. He’s a lying, manipulative monster after all.”
Zenitsu then dropped a bombshell, “Nezuko, Kagaya knows about the switch. The entire Ubuyashiki family knows full well that Tanjiro and Muzan swapped bodies.”
Nezuko’s heart sank. This rumor, this lie perpetuated by Mitsuri, had spread further than she thought. It was a cowardly ploy by Muzan, trying to have her brother killed through deceit. She couldn’t let this stand.
“No, you’re wrong,” she countered, her voice firm. “Kagaya was perfectly willing to execute you just for thinking about kidnapping his kids. He would gladly kill the demon lord who has been his family’s mortal enemy for centuries. If Tanjiro were Muzan, Kagaya wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.”
She paused, looking each of them in the eye, her resolve unwavering. “Mitsuri is a traitor. She sold herself to Muzan four years ago, and because of that, every demon slayer has suffered. Why should any of you believe a word that comes out of her mouth?”
Zenitsu, still doubtful, asked, “Then why did Tanjiro wake up one morning and try to kill you?”
Nezuko’s eyes softened, the memory painful but necessary to share. “Because our father died. He was our bedrock; our entire lives revolved around him. And then, he was just gone. Tanjiro was only eleven when our dad died. He woke up one morning, overwhelmed by the realization that our father would never be there for him again. He was hurt, and angry, and didn’t know how to deal with it. He lashed out once—just once, five years ago—and it never happened again.”
The group fell silent, absorbing Nezuko’s words. The truth of their situation was complicated, but Nezuko knew she had to protect her brother, to keep the truth from being twisted by those who would see them destroyed. She would fight for Tanjiro, for her family, and for the justice that they all deserved.
Nezuko took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm despite the storm of emotions brewing inside her. She looked at the others, her voice steady as she began to speak. “Look, I get it. Everyone’s going through hell because of what Muzan has done. The thought of Muzan walking into my house and kidnapping my entire family terrifies me every single day. I know you’re all trying to grasp why all of this is happening, but blaming each other and attacking one another isn’t the answer.”
She focused on shutting down her emotions, trying to recall that intense muscle and bone vision she’d seen earlier. The surge of power she felt was overwhelming like she could easily take down an opponent with her newfound strength. But she knew that strength had to be used wisely.
Zenitsu, still stubborn, countered, “You could go to Kagaya and ask him if Tanjiro and Muzan swapped bodies, and he would say yes.”
Nezuko felt her frustration rising, but she pushed it down, keeping her tone level. “If Tanjiro were in Muzan’s body and was the one causing all the pain and suffering, then Kagaya would never allow his family to live in the village. And Kiriya wouldn’t have fallen in love with Tanjiro’s little sister and proposed to her.”
“Wait, Kiriya is getting married already?” Obanai asked, surprised. He had been locked away for so long that he was out of the loop with the recent developments.
Sanemi chuckled and patted Obanai on the shoulder. “Holy sh*t, you’ve missed so much! You don’t even know about the four new Hashiras.”
“There are already four more?” Obanai asked, astonished.
“Yup, the Tokito brothers, Makomo, and Suma,” Sanemi explained further, already heading back toward the Demon Slayer home, with the others following.
“Wait, did you just mention those vermin who trapped Lady Amane in their basem*nt for a year?” Obanai was taken aback.
“Yup, both of them are Hashiras now.”
“So they forgave those brats for locking away his wife for a year for money, but Mitsuri needed her head cut off?” Obanai couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“They were ten-year-old orphans, and they took care of her as best they could. That family is very forgiving,” Sanemi said.
Nezuko felt a sense of relief wash over her. She couldn’t understand why anyone would believe that Muzan and Tanjiro had swapped minds. Anyone who knew Tanjiro would know that he cared for his family to a murderous degree. She then thought about the mind-swapped demon and the fact that she was her father’s former lover. Bits and pieces of memory started coming back to her.
Her mother had hated that woman just because her husband never mentioned her, his former lover. Nezuko used to love saying the former lover’s name just to irritate her mother. But she had completely forgotten about her after her father fell ill and eventually passed away. Wait, she was there during the funeral. Tanjiro couldn’t attend because he had caught a fever, but that woman was there. No, Uta was the one who was with Tanjiro helping him with his fever.
The memory slowly became clearer. Uta was kind and beautiful, and she loved Tanjuro and Tanjiro because they reminded her of her late husband. Nezuko thought hard, trying to recall her voice and where she claimed to live. She needed to remember it because if there was even a sliver of truth to Mitsuri’s memory, then Uta’s life was in mortal danger.
“Uta Tsugikuni,” Nezuko whispered to herself. That was her name. The name of the woman who was being accused of being this mind-swapped demon. An innocent woman was in grave danger because of this vile rumor, and Nezuko knew she had to find her and keep her safe. To do that, she would need to be strong enough to fight Upper Moon One.
The weight of this new responsibility settled on Nezuko’s shoulders. She knew what she had to do, and she was prepared to fight, not just for herself, but for Uta and everyone else who was caught in Muzan’s twisted web of lies. She would protect them, just like her brother would.
