Tanjirou was content. He'd sold all the charcoal, helped a few of the villagers with odd jobs, and he was headed home a bit early - all in all, a productive day, if he did say so himself. On tired legs, Tanjirou walked back up the hill that led to his home at the foot of the mountain, basking in the soft scent of fresh snow.

As Tanjirou passed a cottage, he heard some rustling from the inside, and a moment later, the window flew open. "Tanjirou! Are you headed back up the mountain?"

Old man Saburo lived alone, ever since his family was killed in some sort of accident, nobody knew the specifics, and the old man didn't care to talk about it. Either way, he was generous, sometimes giving Tanjirou food to snack on for his trek back up the mountain, or letting him use his cottage as a rest stop to recover his energy.

"I am. My family is waiting on me," Tanjirou said simply.

A look of slight concern washed over Saburo's face, and Tanjirou noticed him look up at the sky to check the position of the sun. "Travelling at night is dangerous. You can stay here for the night, and head up the mountain tomorrow morning."

Tanjirou himself shot a glance at the sun. "I've still got a few hours of daylight left. I think I can make it back before nightfall."

Saburo frowned, an expression dashing across his face that Tanjirou couldn't quite discern, but he didn't protest. "Be careful."

"I will!" Tanjirou said with a big smile. "Have a good night!"

With that, Tanjirou continued his trek up the mountain, focusing his mind on the feeling of snow crunching beneath his feet.

"Onii-chan!" a high-pitched voice squealed, and a moment later, Hanako came running from the house. She threw her arms around Tanjirou's leg, squeezing him like a tiny vice. She had a habit of doing such things, and Tanjirou found it endearing, so he just smiled, patting her head affectionately before prying her off so that he could set down the charcoal basket.

"Welcome back, Tanjirou," his mother said once he came inside. She was sitting in the reading chair, Rokuta in her lap, and on the other side of the room, Nezuko sat, fidgeting with some sort of embroidery. "There's still some of the stew left from dinner in the pot."

"Thanks," Tanjirou said, tiredly scuffling his way over to the fire. Absentmindedly, he got a bowl and spooned out a portion of stew, humming quietly to himself as he took a seat at the dinner table.

As he ate, he relished in the comfort that was their simple home; his close-knit family surrounding him, peacefully enjoying each others presence after a long day of working. When his father had passed a few years prior, they'd all been able to help each other through the grief and support one another as they mourned. That connection they shared, it was something special, and Tanjirou wouldn't trade it for the world.

Everyone milled about for a while longer, occupying themselves with chores or hobbies as evening faded into night. Tanjirou was one of the first ones to turn in, completely exhausted after his round trip to the village. He pulled out futons for the entire family, setting them up on the cabin floor. With the help of the comforting warmth of the blanket, it wasn't long before sleep overtook him.

Tanjirou awoke to a putrid smell. Scrunching his nose in disgust, he sat up slightly, looking around the room.

Maybe some food was left on the counter from dinner, he thought. From where he was on the floor, all he could see was the rest of his family laid out on futons, soundly asleep. A quick glance at the fireplace told him that he hadn't been sleeping for long, as the coals were still warm, giving off a soft orange glow.

The smell was that of rotting flesh, as if meat had been kept too long; it made him want to vomit, and it was only getting stronger. With a frown, he covered himself up under the blanket, attempting to block out the smell so that he could go back to sleep. Finding the source could wait until morning.

Sometimes he hated his potent sense of smell. At times, it was useful, like being able to sniff out a coming storm or tell if food was still good to eat, but other times it was like a curse. Smells that would simply be unpleasant to most people were unbearable to him, such as rotten food, body odor, or, gods forbid, flatulence.

In an attempt to block out the odor, Tanjirou stuffed the blanket up against his face and breathed through his mouth, minimizing the amount of stench that could get through to his nose. Still, the smell continued to grow, becoming more and more potent by the second.

Alright, that's it, Tanjirou thought, mentally preparing himself to leave the comforting warmth of the futon to investigate. Perhaps something in their meat storage had spoiled.

The moment before Tanjirou made the move to get up, a soft scratching sound resounded throughout the room as the sliding door to the home opened.

Tanjirou's breath caught in his throat. An intruder? A robber?

Time seemed to slow down as a hand curled around the doorway, long nails resembling claws capping off every finger. A moment later, a man wearing a simple black suit with a white hat that sat on curly black hair stepped around the corner. Tanjirou's breath quickened. Who was this man? Why was he here?

He took a few steps inside, walking towards the spot where the family was asleep on the floor. As he got closer, the soft glow of the embers left in the fireplace illuminated his face, showing unnaturally pale skin. Tanjirou simply laid there, frozen by an unnatural sense of fear as the person crouched down mere feet away from Tanjirou's mother. . A glance at his eyes showed pupils like slits against an orange-red iris.

The moment he saw the man next to his mother, all fear fled his body. Whoever this man was, every bone, every nerve inside of Tanjirou was screaming that he was bad news. Bad news that was now sitting next to Tanjirou's own mother, staring at her sleeping face with a gaze he couldn't discern.

Tanjirou jumped to his feet, throwing the blanket at the intruder. The man didn't even flinch as he knocked the blanket away, throwing it across the room with a single, quick swipe.

"Get away from my mother!" Tanjirou shouted it, clenching his fists, "Who are you?"

The man didn't respond, he simply put his hand down onto Tanjirou's mother's neck, holding her down as she started to stir, woken by the yelling. The second she realized what was happening Tanjirou saw her eyes flicker with fear, and she attempted to scream. No sound came out, which could only mean that the man was crushing her throat.

"Get off of her!" Tanjirou yelled. The rest of his family was coming awake now. He could see the look of horror in his mother's eyes as she clawed at the man's arm, struggling to breathe.

"Shut up, will you?" the man's voice was cold and indifferent as he just shifted his hand, shearing through Kie's neck like a hot knife through butter. Her head lopped off, rolling onto its side, lifeless eyes staring back at Tanjirou.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He heard Nezuko let out a gasp of horror. All he could do, however, is stare with shock as the man stood, licking the blood off of his hands.

The man, the beast, for this man could not be human, grabbed the nearest body to Kie's lifeless corpse: Rokuta, who had been sleeping next to her. The child's clothing was soaked in his mother's blood, his normally cheerful, happy face struck with an expression of pure, unfiltered horror. Tanjirou wanted to move, he wanted to run at the intruder and save his brother, but his body would not obey his commands, it was frozen on the spot.

"Rokuta!" Nezuko screamed, and next thing Tanjirou knew, she was running by him, directly at the man. She tried to grab Rokuta from his grasp, but he simply turned to the side, effortlessly dodging, before slashing her across the back with his claws. Nezuko fell to the ground with a hard thud.

The man didn't even waste a moment before squeezing Rokuta's neck, the cottage echoing with a sickening crack, before dropping the lifeless body to the ground. He could hear Hanako crying behind him, and a glance backwards showed her, Shigeru, and Takeo clinging onto each other, bodies shaking with fear.

Something broke inside of Tanjirou. He ran to the kitchen, fumbling at the counter for a knife. He grabbed the nearest, sharpest one he could find, before turning right back around and running at the man. If he could kill or injure this monster, this murderer, then he could at least save his remaining siblings. A guttural yell escaped his throat as he ran, knife beared.

As he got close, Tanjirou saw a slight shift in the man's demeanor, tilting slightly to one side. If Tanjirou didn't change anything about his approach, the man would do the exact same thing he did to Nezuko to Tanjirou himself. On instinct, he threw the knife in the direction that the man looked like he was going to try to dodge. As he did so, Tanjirou jumped forwards, throwing his head forward harder than he ever had before.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Tanjirou thought to himself. By dodging the knife, the man would be vulnerable to a headbutt from Tanjirou's inexplicably hard skull, and if he'd dodged Tanjirou himself, he'd have been hit by the knife.

Just as Tanjirou had hoped, the man jumped out of the way of the knife, leaving himself vulnerable. Then, a split second later, he simply stepped out of the way of the headbutt, moving faster than any normal person would ever be able to. Before Tanjirou could even regain his footing, an arm slammed into his back, throwing him into the wall with enough force to shatter his ribcage on impact.

Pain exploded across his entire chest, pain like nothing he had ever experienced before. The pain from when he'd accidentally tipped a brazier full of hot coals onto himself couldn't even compare with this. Tanjirou would have let out a scream of pain if not for the fact that he couldn't breathe, all the air thrown from his lungs. He couldn't get up, either, he was too injured to even move. All he could do was watch as the man picked up the knife, casually walking over to Hanako, Shigeru, and Takeo. With a single swipe, he sliced the group in half, from Hanako's shoulder all the way to Takeo's hip.

Tanjirou tried to breathe, but it came in quick, panicked bursts. Each time he inhaled, his right side flared with pain, he probably had a punctured lung. He couldn't move, and the man simply turned and walked over to Tanjirou as the final three siblings' corpses slumped to the floor, blood staining the futons.

This is it, Tanjirou thought, This is where I die.

The man crouched down in front of Tanjirou, staring at him like he had to Tanjirou's mother just before he'd killed her. Then, to Tanjirou's shock, the man's soft, evil smile turned to a frown, and then a look of disgust.

"What's this?" he said, grabbing at the side of Tanjirou's face, "Hanafuda earrings? Where did you get these, boy?"

Tanjirou didn't respond out of a combination of spite and the fact that his body wouldn't let him, considering the state of his lungs. This, however, seemed to just enrage the man even more.

He dug his fingers into Tanjirou's stomach, fingers tearing through his flesh with ease. Tanjirou could only groan with pain, his lungs unable to even scream anymore. "I said, where did you get these, boy?" he spat the last word.

Somehow, Tanjirou found it within himself to speak. "My father...passed them down to me. In the family...for generations." He could taste the blood from his lungs on the air as he spoke.

He heaved in a breath as the man removed his fingers, standing up. He walked in a circle, Tanjirou unable to see his face. When he finally turned around, there was a sickening smile plastered across his face, and he was laughing.

"I can't believe it," he said, walking in a little circle, "His ancestors...reduced to this? The one that gave me so much trouble over three hundred years ago...has become this? Ironic."

What is this man saying, Tanjirou thought, What does this even mean?

"Oh I know!" he said, crouching down again, "How about I make you into a demon? It'll put the final nail in the coffin for your sickening bloodline."

Demon? As in the man eating demons they tell kids about to scare them? Tanjirou didn't have any time to think about it any further before the man simply jammed his finger straight into Tanjirou's skull, piercing straight through the bone.

Despite his lungs screaming in protest, Tanjirou let out a scream of pain, vision spotting with man just smiled, pulling his finger from his skull, before standing up. Tanjirou could feel himself losing consciousness by the second.

"Don't worry, I'll leave some scraps for you and your sister," Tanjirou heard the man say as he lost consciousness, "Maybe you'll tear each other apart fighting over them."

"Yoriichi-san, why do you think it took Michikatsu three days to transform into a demon?" the words echoed throughout Tanjirou's mind as if they'd been spoken by his own mouth, yet the voice was not his own. He tried to get a look around the room, only to find that he had absolutely no control over his body, as if he was watching a stage-play unfold before his eyes.

The man, Yoriichi, sat across the table from Tanjirou, sipping quietly at his cup of tea. Behind him, tapestries hung from the wall, the bright colors contrasting against the shoddy, worn walls. They reminded him of ancient Japanese infrastructure. Tanjirou's inability to control his body was only reinforced when his arm moved against his will, to pick up the tea cup on his side of the table before lifting it to his mouth to take a drink. It smelled of plum and spice.

Tanjirou saw a look flash across the man's face, something between grief and anger, but he quickly covered it back up with a look of indifference. "It's simple, my dear friend," he said, setting his own cup down. "He, just like you and I do, had the sun flowing through his veins."

Tanjirou bolted upright, breathing heavily.
The first thing he noticed was the complete lack of pain. The memories of what had just transpired were still fresh in his mind, alongside the odd dream he'd had while passed out. Before he'd fallen to unconsciousness, his entire rib cage had been shattered, his back quite possibly broken, and cuts lined the sides of his body. Last thing he remembered was the intruder jamming a finger into his skull. Throwing his hand up to his forehead, Tanjirou felt for a wound, but was only met with smooth skin under hard, dried blood.

The next thing he noticed was the scent. The entire room reeked of blood, to the point that it was completely overwhelming, blocking out all of his other senses.

Blood had an odd scent. There was a metallic tinge to it, a bit like iron, but at the same time it had a reeking, rotting smell at times, especially in large quantities. Despite the fact that blood was red, if Tanjirou had to assign a color to the scent, it would be pure, dark black. To him, the scent of blood represented the destruction of happiness.

Right now, however, the smell of blood didn't make Tanjirou want to keel over and vomit. It didn't even make him want to plug his nose to reduce the potency of the scent. Looking around the room at his slaughtered, mutilated family, the smell of blood made Tanjirou very, very hungry.

Tanjirou sat, frozen on the spot as he took in the scene laid out in front of him. His family's corpses laid where they'd died, their blood staining the floors and walls. Their bodies had been mutilated, chunks of flesh having been torn off of their bodies. Hanako's beautiful face had been marred by long, thin claw marks, and there was a hole where Rokuta's heart should have been.

I'll leave some scraps for you and your sister, the man's words echoed throughout Tanjirou's mind. Looking down at their bodies, Tanjirou's stomach panged. He was hungrier than he'd ever been before, and that fact was only compounded by the metallic smell of blood that was filling his lungs, a scent that should've made him want to vomit.

Tanjirou felt his mouth water like a child's before a feast. Unable to think straight, Tanjirou pushed himself onto his knees, reaching a hand out towards his family, revealing long, sharp fingernails on the ends of his fingers. On wobbly legs, Tanjirou scrambled towards the bodies, the closest of which was his mother. His eyes glanced over at where her head rolled away from her body, once beautiful eyes cold and empty. Right as he got close, his legs failed under him and he fell onto her, burying his head into her yukata.

His body screamed at him to eat, the sweet scent of blood urging him to fall to those instincts and just bite into the corpse. Saliva dripped from his mouth, and in an attempt to stop it, his tongue ran by long, sharp fangs in place of where his canines should've been.

Tanjirou let out a screaming sob, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. He gripped his mother's yukata in his fists, clenching onto it as hard as if he'd die if he let go. The force of his grief completely overrode anything and everything else. His body screamed at him to just bite into her corpse, to simply satisfy his hunger, but whatever was going on with his body, he hadn't lost his mind. These were his family, the people who he loved more than anything else on earth, and they were gone.

"I'm sorry!" his voice was raw and coarse, as if he hadn't had water in days, "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you!"

He knew nobody was listening. His entire family was dead, it was the middle of the night, and their house was kilometers from the nearest other sign of human life. Even still, he didn't care if anyone could hear his cries, he needed to get it out of his system. Years worth of experiences with his parents and siblings had all been invalidated in a few quick seconds at the hands of an intruder.

Tanjirou had no idea how long he sat there, and frankly, he didn't care either. He cried until his throat was raw and he had no tears left to shed, and then he cried longer. He wanted nothing more than to just lie down and die, to let the world take him to his family. Why was he the one to survive. Out of all of his siblings, why had the man chosen to spare Tanjirou?

It felt like he was in a dream. His mind was cloudy and it was hard to take in everything that was happening. As he lay on the ground, his head buried in his mother's yukata, searching for a reason to get up, he found himself questioning all that had happened. Why was he suddenly uninjured? What was with the long, sharp fingernails on the tips of his fingers and why did he have fangs?

Why did the smell of blood make his stomach ache with hunger?

It was like there were two parts of him fighting each other. One part of him was telling him to bite down, to devour his family's bodies which he was certain would satisfy his hunger. It didn't make sense, it was as if new instincts had been forced into his body. He couldn't say why he knew that eating would fill him, just that it would.

The other part of him that was in conflict was his mind. Despite his instincts screaming at him to eat, to just forsake any other thoughts and gorge himself, he still had his mind. He still had a moral compass. The concept of eating humans at all, especially his family who he loved more than anything else on the planet, made him want to vomit despite the overwhelming hunger. His body was telling him to eat, but his mind, his moral compass, held it back.

The once disgusting scent of blood now smelled sweet, which caused his stomach to pang, and he absolutely hated that. The mere thought of eating another person, of doing something so morally repulsing made him want to keel over and empty his stomach. He felt sick.

So, he tried to focus on other scents. First and foremost was his mother's scent, one of charcoal ashes and snowbell flowers. It was the most familiar of scent he knew, as he'd grown up around it, smelling it since before he even knew that his sense of smell was abnormally keen.

The next scent he noticed was the very same smell of rotting flesh he'd smelled moments before the intruder had entered their home. The second he picked it out, he clenched his fist, anger welling up inside of him. That man was the one responsible for all of this, for the complete destruction of everything Tanjirou loved.

That man had taken everything from Tanjirou, and he didn't even know his name.

The next scent Tanjirou noticed was actually his own. Normally, it was very difficult for him to discern his own smell. He was around it all day, every day, and so it had essentially become used to it, and that was precisely the reason that Tanjirou noticed when it was different.

It was hard for him to put his finger on what he'd smelled like before, but if he had to make his best estimate, he'd say campfire ash mixed with charcoal (his entire family smelled of charcoal in some capacity). Now, though, it had changed. He still smelled campfire ash, but it also smelled a bit...sour, in a way. It was like the smell that something had when it spent too long sitting out. Not quite rotting, but it wasn't exactly nice on the nose.

He was still curled up in a ball, his head buried in his mother's yukata. He didn't want to move, because he knew that nothing but pain awaited him the moment he left his mother's cold embrace. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting there, and frankly, he didn't care.

That is, until he noticed another, distinct scent in the room. Nezuko had a sweet scent, that of sakura blossoms with a hint of his family's ever present charcoal. Now, however, he smelled that same scent, but with a sour tinge, the same one that he'd smelled on himself. As if on queue, he heard shuffling.

For the first time in a while, Tanjirou lifted his head from his mother's embrace to look around the room. Across the floor, in the spot where she'd fallen after getting slashed by the intruder, Nezuko was shifting, pushing herself to her feet.

"N-nezuko?" Tanjirou's voice was coarse and his bones ached, but he forced himself onto his feet, rushing over.

Nezuko is okay, Nezuko is alive, Nezuko is okay, he thought, panicked. He scrambled over, nothing on his mind but the fact that someone else lived, Nezuko is alive.

"Nezuko! Don't get up, you're hurt!" Tanjirou said, noticing the claw marks in the back of her yukata and the dried blood that surrounded it. Nezuko ignored him, pushing herself onto her feet, swaying slightly. Tanjirou slowed to a stop a few meters away, sensing that something was wrong. As he got closer, the tainted smell grew stronger, and the implications of that fact finally registered in Tanjirou's mind. If her scent had changed, just like his, and she'd been left alive, just like he had…

Maybe you'll tear each other apart fighting over them. The man's final words echoed throughout Tanjirou's mind and his heart sank.

"Nezuko!" Tanjirou tried again to get her attention, but his sister simply stood there, swaying, hair obscuring her face. When Tanjirou saw saliva drop to the floor, all of his suspicions were confirmed. His own mouth was watering, afterall.

Tanjirou closed the distance between them in a single moment, wrapping Nezuko in a hug.

"Grahhh!" Nezuko grumbled, an inhuman growl. She immediately started to struggle against Tanjirou's hold, but the boy did not let go.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm so sorry, Nezuko!" The smell was strong up close, and he felt sharp, long claws dig into his back as Nezuko tried to free herself from his grip. Tanjirou winced, but kept holding on.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you or anyone! You ran in without hesitation to try to save Takeo, and all I did was sit and watch!" Nezuko continued to growl and struggle against Tanjirou. Every time that she slashed at Tanjirou's back, he felt the wounds knit right back together a moment later, healing seemlessly.

"You're hungry, aren't you Nezuko?"
Nezuko paused for a moment, and so Tanjirou continued.

"I'm hungry, too. I don't know what's going on, who that man was, why I suddenly have claws and fangs, why my body wants me to eat," Tanjirou squeezed the hug tighter, and Nezuko's struggling lessened, "All I know is that these people are our family. We can't eat them, we can't eat anyone. I don't know why we're hungry like this, but we need to fight it off. Nezuko, be strong!" his voice died, and he whispered, "Please…"

Then, Nezuko stopped, her arms falling to her sides. Nezuko's entire body shook, and her legs gave out. Tanjirou slid to the ground with her, keeping the embrace, and a moment later, he felt his shoulder go wet as Nezuko's incoherent growling turned into sobs. Tanjirou didn't have any tears left to share, so he just sat, holding his sister while she shook from the force of her emotions.

Tanjirou finally pulled away from the hug, wiping Nezuko's hair out of her face. Tears rolled down from slitted, pink eyes, her skin was paler than normal, and she had long, sharp fangs in place of her kanines.

"Nezuko," Tanjirou said, "we need to get out of here. That man might still be somewhere nearby and he could hurt someone if we don't go warn everyone we can. Plus, we need to figure out what all this is," he gestured to both of their bodies. Nezuko just stared back at him with a half dazed stare, as if she was only processing bits and pieces of what he was saying.

"Nezuko?" Tanjirou said, "Nezuko, talk to me."

Nezuko just shifted, grunting softly.

"Nezuko. We need to leave." he said, pulling her to her feet. Nezuko didn't resist, but she didn't make to do anything else, either. Her eyes glanced over the bodies that littered the floor, and Tanjirou noticed that she was clenching her fists, the claws digging into her palms. Saliva still dripped from her mouth, but she looked like she was holding herself back.

It's like she's been reduced to a primal state, Tanjirou thought, She won't speak, it's like she's lost her full ability to think. Something is wrong. We need to go.

Tanjirou ran to the other side of the room, where he grabbed both Nezuko's black haori, as well as his own checkered one, and his father's axe. He handed Nezuko her haori, and she put it on without issue. Grabbing her hand, Tanjirou headed for the door.

One last look back at his family's bodies and he felt both his stomach and heart pang.

I promise I'll come back to give you a proper burial, he thought, I just need to go get help first. I need to figure out what happened to me and Nezuko, and what's wrong with her.

Before he could stop himself from leaving, Tanjirou turned, running from the house into the night, Nezuko in tow. I'll get to the bottom of this. I promise.