Chapter Text
The first thing you notice is the hunger.
It gnaws at the pit of your stomach, relentless, demanding to be heard. You can’t even really put it into words, but you’re quite certain you’ve never experienced hunger of this scale, ever before. That’s the very first thing you notice, because of how painfully the sensation twists in your gut.
Then comes everything else.
You’re… walking. Or rather, you’re dragging your feet as you hobble forward, through an unfamiliar environment. Seriously, where the hell are you right now? Last you checked, you were in your bedroom. In bed. Asleep. Part of you considers that this might be a dream, but instinctively, you realize that’s not the case.
This—whatever it may be—is wholly, undeniably real.
“Ugh, what the hell?” you mutter, clutching your poor, aching stomach. You feel like absolute shit, and even that’s an understatement. In fact, you’re so starved right now that your strange surroundings are the least of your concern. You just desperately want this pain to come to an end.
Please, please, let it end.
You suppose it must be the universe’s way of answering your call, because the second the thought makes itself known, you hear something. You’re not really sure what you’re hearing exactly, but there’s noise, coming from not too far off. You’re unbearably hungry, confused, and scared. Maybe someone can help you. You need someone to help you.
So, you follow the sound, panting and gasping with every step, and eventually, you find what you’re looking for.
There’s a young man standing in the middle of the forest. He’s alone, facing towards a massive boulder, which he appears to be striking repeatedly with his sword. His hair is partly black, but tinged with red all over, and there’s a notable scar upon his forehead. He’s also wearing earrings, but not exactly a common variation. You swear you’ve seen that same distinct style before… but where?
The answer doesn’t dawn on you in time. All of a sudden, you’re seized by a hunger even more intense than before. You can feel yourself trembling, salivating, and the dull ache in your stomach makes it feel like you’re being pierced all the way through.
This isn’t normal. None of this is normal. It’s not normal at all. You don’t understand what the hell is happening. Actually, you’re losing lucidity faster and faster by the second. Your thoughts are melting away, blending together, until they lose form entirely.
You can’t think.
So, you act.
The young man turns towards you just in time to see you approaching. He must have noticed you hobbling towards him, looking visibly ill, because he drops his sword in a hurry and rushes over.
“Are you okay?!” he cries out.
But you don’t answer. You can’t even form a single coherent word, let alone a proper sentence. You just keep inching your way forward, gasping all the while, and eventually, you find yourself standing right in front of him.
Who the hell is this guy? He looks so familiar that it’s adding yet another layer of discomfort to this whole situation. You swear it’s right on the tip of your tongue. It’s so close, yet so far away, because the pain is blocking off all rhyme or reason.
“What’s wrong?” the young man asks, gently extending his hand out. “Are you lost? The fog gets really thick around here, so it’s dangerous. Did you get separated from someone? Were you traveling alone?”
His tone is undeniably gentle, but the more he keeps bombarding you with questions, the more unwell you feel. It’s too much to process all at once. It’s too much for you to deal with amidst this endless barrage of pain.
“H-Help,” you just barely manage to choke out, and the young man knits his brows together, expression rife with concern.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help you,” he promises. “Are you cold? Do you need somewhere to stay? I’m sure Urokodaki wouldn’t mind offering you shelter for a while. I can take you there.”
He hesitates for a moment, then fully grabs onto your hand. When you reflexively pull away, he blinks, then chuckles sheepishly.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I should have introduced myself before touching you like that. I’m Tanjiro. Kamado Tanjiro. What’s your name?”
…huh?
If your head wasn’t already spinning before, it sure as hell is now. For a second, the agonizing hunger even seems to halt, just to give you a second to take in what you’ve just heard.
Kamado Tanjiro. The scar on his forehead. Those frustratingly familiar hanafuda earrings.
Holy fuck.
Are you in the world of Demon Slayer right now??
“Please let me know if you’re hurt,” Tanjiro says, eyeing you cautiously, most likely to discern if you need emergency treatment. “You seem uninjured… but I’m sure you must be cold. And tired. And hungry.”
The moment he utters that fateful word, it’s like a spell has been cast—and the craving returns with a vengeance.
What’s… what’s happening?
This is bad. You don’t feel like yourself anymore. You don’t feel like you’re even in control of your own body.
A suspicion which turns out to be true when you suddenly wrap your arms around Tanjiro.
His cheeks redden. “O-Oh. Do you need help walking? If you’re dizzy, just brace yourself against me. Unless you’d prefer that I carry you…?”
This time, it’s impossible to form a response. Whatever thoughts were still tethering you to reality disappear in the blink of an eye. It’s like your mind has been wiped clean, empty. Nothing remains.
Apart from the brutal, unrelenting hunger.
By the time you blink, you’ve already pinned Tanjiro to the ground. He cries out, more so shocked than anything else, but it’s already too late. You’re not sure how, but you find yourself gradually overpowering him. He pushes back against you, but to no avail. Your muscles feel like they’ve been lit on fire. Your body surges with the kind of power you’ve never experienced before.
“Wait,” Tanjiro says, eyes widening—not with amazement, but rather, horror. “Your teeth, they’re—”
He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.
Already, you’ve sunk your teeth—or rather, your fangs—into his neck.
What follows is something downright sickening, as you realize that you’re quite literally feeding on him. You can feel yourself swallowing as his blood runs down your throat. And the moment you drink in his essence, your hunger pangs begin to fade.
Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.
You haven’t just been sucked into the world of Demon Slayer somehow. No, of course it couldn’t possibly be that simple. You’re here, god knows how, and to make matters even worse…
You’re a demon.
As soon as you come to terms with your sobering reality, you tear your lips away from Tanjiro’s neck and back off, as fast as possible. He reacts the second you do and rushes to grab his sword again, adopting a defensive stance. Clearly, he’s pieced it together now. He’s come to the exact same realization as you.
“A demon?” Tanjiro gasps, wincing as he presses a hand against his bloody neck. “But… you don’t smell like a demon. And your teeth and nails looked normal a moment ago. Not to mention that… you’re outside. In daylight. How…?”
“I don’t know,” you whimper, clutching your knees to your chest and swallowing hard as you resist the urge to lunge at him again. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know! I don’t know what the hell’s happening right now! I just—I just want to go home. I just really want to go home…”
All of this is just so unimaginably fucked up. You can still feel some of his leftover blood upon your lips, and instead of it tasting metallic, unpalatable, like you’ve always known it to be, you somehow find yourself craving more of it.
You’re not a human being anymore.
And you’re not even in your own world.
“I’m so sorry,” you gasp, burying your face in your arms and deliberately avoiding his gaze. “Please don’t kill me. I’m really, really sorry.”
Tanjiro doesn’t move. He can feel himself holding his breath, too dumbfounded by what’s happening to even focus on the throbbing pain in his neck. You’re a demon, and yet, you looked like an ordinary human a split second ago. You’re a demon, and yet you’re walking around in broad daylight, which no demon has ever been said to do.
Above all else, though, you stopped yourself. You distanced yourself instead of trying to kill him. You held yourself back, and you even apologized.
If his sister, Nezuko, can resist the urge to harm humans… then perhaps you can, too?
“Um,” Tanjiro says, taking a slow, cautious step forward. He doesn’t outright let go of his sword, but he can already feel that he has no willingness to strike. Your face is still buried in your arms, but he calls out to you regardless. “It’s okay. I don’t think you meant to hurt me, so it’s okay. Can you… please look at me again?”
You’re shaking all over. To be honest, looking at him is the last thing you want to do right now. You’re so horrified by your own actions, so distraught by the situation you find yourself in, that you just want to bury yourself in a hole and pray that it all disappears.
But it won’t. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself that this is just a dream, a terrible nightmare, nothing changes. You’re still here. You can still taste Tanjiro’s blood on your lips.
So, you raise your head, shakily, and meet his gaze with tear-filled eyes.
And then you pass out from shock.
“H-Hello??”
Tanjiro rushes over to you, but it’s no good. Your entire body has gone limp. You’re out cold, lying helplessly on the ground. When he crouches down, one hand still poised on his sword, he notices that your claws have retracted back into normal fingernails. He even takes a deep breath and cautiously lifts the corner of your lips. Your fangs have retracted as well. Your teeth look normal again.
And even now—you have yet to fall victim to the sun’s wrath.
Tanjiro knows he shouldn’t let his guard down, but he can’t help himself. He reaches out and grabs your hand in his, giving it a firm but gentle squeeze. If a demon like you exists, such a glaring, blatant anomaly, then perhaps there really is a way to turn Nezuko back into a human. You’re the first real shred of hope he’s had in a while. Proof that not all demons are beyond salvation.
At the time, he didn’t know yet.
He didn’t realize just how much your very existence would consume him.