A New Beginning

Good to see you again, Kyojuro

Almost 6 years ago, a mysterious being appeared in front of Tanjuro, someone who literally fell from the sky when he was bringing back some wood to feed his family (and the new member that came a few weeks ago).

"AHHHH--ACK-"

On their first meeting, the mysterious person had choked on his spit while Tanjuro cringed at the sight of the man.

His red hair had been longer, far more than in the present. If he could remember it right, it had passed his shoulder even if he wore it in a ponytail. That very same hair was the only memory he had left on said day.

"Tanjiro! Are you right!?!? I didn't- Yes it should be you! We just need to find Ne-Your sister! She is out here somewhere, maybe with him! Or or.." The voice dropped, halted. Tanjuro didn't know what this guy was talking about, but sensing the panic and sadness in his voice, he decided to speak, to help him in some way. However, he needed to clarify some things first.

"Um, I'm not- Well, My name is Tanjūro." He said, pronouncing every syllable in his name slowly. "And I don't have a sister." At least not anymore. Last words left unclear and quiet.

The mysterious person spoke. "You aren't Tanjiro? but you... you look so much like him!" The voice broke as he bobbed his head up and down to check the man's identity.

"I have a son named Tanjiro, though I don't think that is who you are looking for right?"

The strange person did not laugh with him. He stared back at him, unmoved by the wind, frozen on a spot, and for a second Tanjuro almost wanted to ask if the sudden presence had fallen cold to the weather.

"What year is this?"

Tanjuro blinked. "Meiji 34."

"...1901." The demon replied back, his eyes emitting a golden light.

—---------------------------------

In the present.

The sparks of a blade against a cold punch can be heard farther than an echo and louder than a firework.

He does not know when to stop or give in, the other doesn't as well. One laughs and taunts the other who remains standing against all odds, prolonging the life of his family above his own.

"A long time ago there was a mark that appeared over the skin of demon slayers..."

The demon laughs again, his hands stop down the blade at just the right point before the hashira can pierce his skin. Pressure against pressure, the blade cant keep prolonging its fight anymore. It shakes, it will break. The hashira pushes the blade back instead and changes the skill midway through the fight, from a ruthless display of power to a more dispersed dance amongst the flames, amongst the burning essences, and amongst the fireworks of dazzling punches that the other makes. In a small environment such as the shallow forest around them, it is hard for a hunter to win, much less a human hunter, but the slayer does fine for himself, dodging the attacks at an impossible range, slicing down the upper moon like it was a slice of butter.

"First Form: Unknowing Fire!"

Akaza's head is almost sliced off by the sudden attack as Shinjuro dashes up at him with a speed that could rival his. He dodged away only milliseconds after the sword cleaved through him, and even then- when he touched his neck, a trail of blood spilled on his hand and floor.

"Demon." The man called out with a fiery breath, his lungs still capable of producing as many attacks as they needed in order to protect what was behind him.