Once Tanjiro got back to the Demon Slayer stronghold, he deposited Nezuko in his room so she could get some rest, then headed back out to find the Master's quarters. The stronghold was designed like a giant safe, he'd come to realize, with all of the outer buildings in strategic locations so that they could protect the Demon Slayer Corps head family at the core. The place was a maze, but Tanjiro had found that if you made your way towards the center, you were bound to figure out where you were eventually.

His theory proved true once again as the familiar building came into view. Memories sprang to his mind, unbidden, of the first time he'd seen its perfectly manicured grounds and tranquil setting - though that moment in time had been anything but tranquil.

The first time Tanjiro had been properly introduced to the Hashira and Mr. Ubuyashiki, he'd been unjustly accused of betraying the Corps by traveling with a demon, regardless if it was his sister. He'd been humiliated in front of the Hashira, and it was only Mr. Ubuyashiki's kind words that had granted him his freedom. Since then, he and Nezuko had proved the accusations wrong by slaying countless demons and saving innumerable lives.

Or at least, Tanjiro thought they had done so, hoped that they had. He couldn't begin to know what went through the Demon Slayer Corps Head's mind.

As he approached the building, he came into sight of a pair of Kakushi guarding the entrance, and they also saw him. When he was about a yard away, one of them held up their hand, making him pause. "State your name and business with the Corps Head," They said in a gruff masculine voice, speaking slightly louder than necessary to be heard around the white cloth covering half of his face.

Tanjiro kept his face placid and made sure both of his hands were in plain view. "I am Tanjiro Kamado," He announced across the short distance. "I am here to ask the Corps Head a question that regards me, my sister Nezuko, and my traveling companions, Zenitsu Augamatsu and Inosuke Hashibira."

Both Kakushi's eyebrows raised slightly, and they turned to each other to confer in whispers. Tanjiro heard the sentences "the Slayer Team that killed Upper Demon Six", "the Team with an actual Demon", and "the replacement Hashira". That last one made Tanjiro wince, but he did his best to keep his expression peaceful.

The Kakushi spoke softly for a minute or so before turning back to him. "I will tell the Corps Head of your presence," The one who spoke before announced. With that, he ducked inside the building and left his companion to watch Tanjiro.

It's hard to judge a Kakushi's expression thanks to their uniforms, so Tanjiro let his nose do the judging. While the eyes of the remaining Kakushi kept their expressionless stare, they were actually admitting a scent of amazement and wonder. It wasn't a new scent - Tanjiro had caught wind of the smell several times after he and his team had returned from the Entertainment District, from Slayers and Kakushi alike. He didn't need Zenitsu's ears to hear the excited whispers that followed their group wherever they went: That's them! That's the team that defeated Upper Demon Six!

His stomach twisted into an even tighter knot as he realized just how many eyes were on him. What would they say if they knew what I'm about to ask Mr. Ubuyashiki?

The lone Kakushi stared at him for an uncomfortably long while before the other ducked back out. "The Corps Head will see you now," He intoned. With that, he and his partner stepped away from the doorway, granting Tanjiro entrance. With a grateful nod to the Kakushi, he stepped into the home of the Head of the Demon Slayer Corps.

The smell hit him as soon as he crossed the threshold: sweet burning incense and medicinal herbs, barely covering the tangy scent of something rotting. His nervousness mixed with
a new feeling of deep sorrow as Mr. Ubuyashiki's health crossed his mind, not for the first time. The demon curse had been taking an even greater toll on his body recently, dwindling his appearances to the rest of the Slayers until they were next to never. His family had insisted that he be confined to his living quarters while they tended to him.

Tanjiro distantly heard the sound of coughing, a wet and painful sound that tightened the knots in his stomach until they could have been used to make a bamboo basket. Do I really have the right to ask this of a sick man?

"...Tanjiro Kamado?" Came a weak voice, and the redhead Slayer realized that he'd stopped walking, standing in the middle of the hallway like a lost puppy. "...Is that you? We're in here."

He followed the voice and eventually found himself standing in the doorway of a large bedroom, with the far wall open to a courtyard, presumably so that Mr. Ubuyashiki could receive the messenger crows of the Slayers. There on a futon in the center of the room was the man himself, looking much more weaker than last Tanjiro had seen him. His patches of puckered purple skin, an effect of the curse, had spread, covering most of his face and wrapping around his forearms that currently rested on top of his comforter. A mountain of pillows supported his back and head, giving the impression that he would collapse onto the floor without them. His hair, once as black as a crow, was now streaked with gray and strewn across the pillows like dark waterfalls, limp with sweat.

The air was filled with the putrid smell of decay, and it was no secret where it was coming from.

One of Mr. Ubuyashiki's white haired daughters, whose name Tanjiro couldn't remember because they all looked the same, was pressing a rag to her father's forehead. She turned her disturbingly unblinking eyes towards Tanjiro as he entered, orbs of purple seeming to pierce into his very soul. The Kakushi must have informed them that he'd come to ask a question, but the way she was staring at him made him think that she already knew what he had come to ask.

What she thought about it, though... he couldn't tell.

"There you are, young Tanjiro," Mr. Ubuyashiki said weakly; despite his blindness, he was in no way deaf. "I was told that you wanted to ask me something?"

Tanjiro tried in vain to swallow the lump in his throat and answered just as weakly, "Y-yes, Mr. Ubuyashiki... it regards me, my sister, and my team."

"Zenitsu Augamatsu and Inosuke Hashibira?" The sick man inquired.

"Yes sir," Tanjiro confirmed.

The Corps Head nodded slightly before turning in the direction of his daughter. "Kuina, do you mind giving us a moment?"

"Of course, father," She replied without a trace of emotion. She removed the rag from his forehead and made to exit. As she passed Tanjiro, she paused and whispered to him, "My father's condition is very weak; call for me if he shows signs of worsening." Before he could respond, she'd disappeared into the hallway.

Mr. Ubuyashiki coughed quietly, bringing Tanjiro's attention back to him. "So what was it that you wanted to ask me?" He asked in a quivering voice, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Tanjiro took a deep breath and approached the futon, surprising himself with how timid he was being. "First of all, let me just say that this was not my idea," He began.

Mr. Ubuyashiki chuckled. "You say that as if you are about to confess to a crime," He told Tanjiro in an amused tone.

Depends on how you look at it, Tanjiro admitted in his head, but he didn't dare say it out loud. "W-well, you see..." Dammit, he was shaking; he dug his fingernails into his palms to get a grip. "My team thought the recent missions have been a bit... strenuous, so we wondering if there was any chance that we could... take a... small... vacation?" He closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for Mr. Ubuyashiki's response.

The pause was almost excruciating as he imagined the disappointment on Mr. Ubuyashiki's face, the disgust he felt for the Slayer he'd once held in such high regard. Would he yell at Tanjiro? Would he tell the Kakushi to kick him out of his house? Would he resign his decision to make Tanjiro a Hashira?

Or worse... would he kick him, Nezuko, and his team out of the Corps altogether?

I shouldn't ever have come here, He fretted with his eyes still closed. Thanks a lot, Zenitsu.

He didn't know how long he stood like that with his head bowed in shame; the time seemed to stretch for hours. But then a soft rattling noise reached his ears and he popped his eyes open. To his surprise, the Corps Head was laughing.

"Is that what you were so nervous about asking me?" He asked Tanjiro after he'd managed to calm down. "Why, it's perfectly fine!"

Tanjiro's jaw dropped open from shock. The stress and worry that he'd felt earlier drained out of him in a second, leaving only numbing confusion. The only thing he could manage was a weak "Huh...?"

"Were you afraid that I would be angry with you?" Mr. Ubuyashiki inquired gently.

"Uh... a little," Tanjiro admitted. He honestly didn't know what he'd expected, but acceptance wasn't it.

"Of course I'm not angry," Mr. Ubuyashiki assured him, looking blankly in his direction. "Yes, the cause we fight for is important, but self health is just as vital for success. We need to remind ourselves sometimes that there is a world outside the battlefield."

Tanjiro blinked. Blinked again. "So have other Slayers...?" He dared to ask.

"Yes, a few others have come to me asking for some time off in the past," Mr. Ubuyashiki admitted with a slight nod. "And I always permit it, as long as they ask first. Needless to say, leaving without permission is frowned upon." He offered a mild smile. "As long as they return invigorated in a week or less, no harm no foul."

The relief that Tanjiro felt in that moment was so buoyant, he felt like he would float up and touch a cloud the second he stepped outside. He was so worried that he'd be shunned for his request, but now that he knew that there wouldn't be any repercussions... "Thank you, Mr. Ubuyashiki!" He exclaimed with a hurried bow. "I can't tell you how much this means to me and my team! We'll return twice as strong against the demons, I swear!"

Mr. Ubuyashiki allowed himself another weary laugh. "I look forward to it, young Tanjiro," He told the red-haired Slayer.

With that, Tanjiro took a hasty exit, nearly bumping into Kuina in the hall and the Kakushi by the doorway. He ran giddily through the Demon Slayer stronghold until he reached his room. There, he found the curtains drawn with Nezuko out of her box, pressing a cloth to a battered Zenitsu's cheek with an equally bruised Inosuke not too far away, left to tend to his own injuries. It seemed that they had been able to finish their brawl before sundown, after all.

Zenitsu had seemed to be more focused on Nezuko's touch than the pain from his injuries, but his attention immediately snapped to Tanjiro when he entered the room. "Did you talk to the Corps Head?" At Tanjiro's nod, his amber eyes turned hopeful. "And?"

Tanjiro shook his head, still amazed at the conversation he'd had. "We have the go-ahead," He announced, breathless from his run.

With a dramatic gasp, Zenitsu popped up from Tanjiro's bed and nearly knocked Nezuko off in the process. "This is great! We finally get the vacation we deserve! No time to waste - we need to start researching potential vacation spots right away! I'll only allow us to relax when we actually get there!" With that, he rushed out the door.

As Tanjiro stared in the wake of Zenitsu's exhilaration, Inosuke grumbled behind him, "I'll go only if we find a place with good food..."

—————

Later that night, another party decided to brave the shadows of the forest. This time it was a lonely traveler, leaving the small town with his cart in order to sell his goods in the next town over. He'd heard the tales of the flesh eaters in the trees same as everyone else, but he was amongst the masses that believed they were more myth than reality. Besides, going through the forest was a lot quicker than going around, and he wanted to get to his destination before his competition did so he could set up shop early.

So into the trees he ventured with his trusty cart and steed, with nothing but the night sky and a small oil candle to light his way. As he breached the tree line, though, his candle became the only light source he had as the thick leaves above smothered the stars. He urged his steed to go slower so that they wouldn't run into any unseen obstacles and risk losing a precious good or two.

That decision may have been his downfall.

Within seconds, he was surrounded on all sides by thieves.

He heard them before they made shapes out of the corners of his eyes, laughing cruelly in a way that instantly made his skin crawl. In the pitch black, the only things he could see in the watery light of his candle were about six pairs of glinting eyes that were narrowed in a way that suggested wicked smiles laying just beneath.

And knives. Six of them. Honed to perfection.

Made to hurt.

"You there!" One of the thieves called to him over the din of cackles. "What do you have in that cart of yours? Must be pretty important if you're in these woods at night."

The traveler could handle himself in a fight, and he had his own knife strapped under his bench to prove it. But he wasn't a fool - he could clearly see that he was outnumbered and outmatched. The only thing he could do was sigh and hold his hands in the air to convey that he wasn't armed. "I can assure you all that nothing in my cart is very valuable," He stated calmly. "And I am only going this time of night in order to beat the traffic."

"That still doesn't explain why you're going through the forest, old man," A new voice sneered at him, somewhere on his left. "Everyone knows the stories - there are plenty of trails leading around these trees."

"As they say, going through is faster than going around," The traveler replied. Against his better judgment, he questioned the thieves, "Why, may I ask, are you all out here? You've heard the stories as well, I take it."

"What can I say?" The first thief that had spoken up said wistfully. "I guess we just wanted to see what fool would actually try traveling through here at night. No well-broken trails, thick canopies, desperate people, scared people..." His voice gave the impression of a toothy smile. "Perfect place to make a quick buck, wouldn't you say?"

The traveler shivered despite himself. "I already told you, nothing in my cart is very valuable," He told them again.

More laughter. "We'll be the judge of that, old man," A third voice snickered.

"If we like what we find, we'll kill you, dump your body in the trees, and sell them ourselves in the next town," A fourth voice informed him gleefully.

"If we don't like what we find, we'll still kill you and dump your body in the trees," A fifth voice added, sounding bored.

"Either way, you're going to end up dead," The sixth thief said, sounding all too happy about that particular part of the plan.

Sweat started to prick the traveler's skin. "Y-you don't have to do that..." He tried weakly.

"Oh, but we really do," The first voice said in mock kindness. "You see, if tonight goes the way me and my group wants it to, we might make it a regular thing, and in order to make it a thing, we need to make sure everything goes according to plan."

"And that means no loose ends," One of the other voices completed - fourth one who'd spoken up, perhaps.

"No one will know you're gone, and you know that," Someone who sounded like the second voice told him condescendingly. "Hardly anyone comes into these woods, so it won't be hard to hide your body. Even if somebody does notice, they'll just assume that you were taken by the so-called 'flesh eaters in the trees', and that will be the end of that."

"Who knows - maybe we'll become the actual flesh eaters in the trees!" The presumed sixth voice commented gleefully.

The sweat was pouring down the traveler's body now as he realized that his life now hung in the balance. "P-please..."

"No hard feelings, right?" The third voice asked him rhetorically. "If you think about it, though, it's your fault for traveling through these woods on this particular night - you have no one else to blame but yourself for what's about to happen." His wicked eyes ducked out of view for a second as he spoke to his fellow thieves, "Check his cargo; we'll hold him down."

As they moved towards the traveler's cart, he panicked and went scrabbling for the knife beneath his bench. He blindly groped the underside of the wood for a second before finding the strap, then it was another second before he was able to pull the knife free. He shakily held up the weapon, his only defense against the inevitable.

But when he finally looked into the darkness beyond his cart again, there was nothing there.

No glinting eyes, no grabbing fingers, no terrifying knives... nothing.

For a minute, he simply sat there with his pathetic blade in his hand, thinking that the thieves were simply trying to lure him into a false sense of security before they jumped him. As the seconds ticked by with no sign of movement from the trees, though, he was starting to wonder if the entire encounter had been a figment of his paranoid imagination. The only sounds were that of his own finicky breathing and the worried whinnies of his steed as it also tried to comprehend what had happened.

"Hey."

With a start, the traveler whipped his head to the side of his cart, but it wasn't one of the thieves that had finally spoken up. While this new stranger had gotten close enough for his candle to light up most of their features, what he saw of them wasn't... normal. Instead of two eyes, they had four, with no discernible whites aside from the stark pinpricks in the centers; the colors weren't of one hue, either. They wore some sort of dancer's costume, with bulbous earrings clacking beneath their large ears as they stared at him. From what he could see behind them, their dark hair was done up with four spikes that had some sort of kanji written on them.

But the most noticeable thing about them?

The pearly white canines that seemed to glow as they smiled at him.

"You're good to go now, sir," The stranger told him, as kindly as if they were having a conversation. Golden claws tipped long fingers that patted the wood of the cart. "Safe travels~!" They turned to head into the trees, but then something seemed to come to mind as they stopped and looked over their shoulder at him. "And I probably don't need to say this, but you might want to start traveling with others from now on. Might give you an edge if you end up running into thieves again. Just saying. Food for thought!" With that, the stranger vanished into the trees.

It was a minute before the traveler forced enough sense into his body to reattach the strap below his bench and pick the reins back up. He gently prodded his equally shocked steed into walking again, slowly but surely taking the stranger's advice as they made their way out of the forest.

A few yards away from where the "robbery" almost happened, though, something dropped from the trees onto the traveler's hand. All he could see in the shadows was that it was dark, so he held it closer to his candle for a better look.

It was red. It was warm.

It was blood.

That one realization was all it took for the already frazzled traveler to finally snap. With a strong tug, he urged his steed to quicken until it was almost galloping through the forest. He could hear his precious cargo rattling in the back, but he could care less. All he cared about was getting the hell out of this crazy forest.

As the wind blew past his face and low hanging branches scratched at his forearms, he made what he thought to be the smartest decision he'd ever made in his whole life.

He would take the trail around the forest coming back.

And every other business he would take part in would be within the village.

For when he came home, he would not leave ever again.

—————

3585 words.

Can you guess who this demon is?