Moonlight

Twenty-Three

Tanjiro walked through the woods, stopping when he saw two boys, who appeared to be arguing about something.

He recognised one of them as Tokito Muichiro, the Mist Hashira, and assumed the other was a swordsmith. The swordsmith looked quite young - definitely under the age of twelve.

"Go away!" The swordsmith said. "I'm not handing over my key, no matter what. And I definitely ain't teaching you how to use it!"

He seemed quite agitated, while Muichiro just looked on with an expression of mixed boredom and annoyance.

What? Are they arguing? What now? Eavesdropping is bad. Tanjiro had a dilemma on what he should do. But if they're fighting, I have to intervene.

The poor boy's eyes widened when Muichiro slapped the younger boy across the face and held his neck tightly. When he saw how much pain the swordsmith was in, he rushed out of his hiding place.

"HEEEY!! What are you doing?? Let go of him!"

He tried to rip Muichiro's arm away, but failed - obviously.

"Your voice is annoying." The Mist Hashira's cold eyes stared at him. "Don't intervene."

Tanjiro didn't fail to notice the slight bitterness and resentment in Muichiro's eyes when they looked at each other, though he had no idea why. "What are you doing to a kid?! Get your... ng!" He tried to tug at the younger boys arm, but it wouldn't budge.

He's not even flinching!! He has thinner arms, and he's smaller than me!

"You let go."

Tanjiro flinched at his tone, and for the first time when he was facing a human, his blood ran cold. He stared at the boy's eyes, now full of disgust. Sure, the Hashira were strong, but Tanjiro never felt scared of them, not even Sanemi.

Interpreting his lack of movement as a rejection toward his command, Muichiro grabbed his arm with his free hand and tossed him to the side. Hurt from the impact, Tanjiro struggled to get up.

"You're really weak. I have no idea how you got into the Demon Slayers..." He paused when he realised something was in the box Tanjiro carried. "Hm? I sense something strange in that box. It feels like a demon... what's in there? Is that..."

Muichiro raised his hand and stepped closer, only to have it slapped away by Tanjiro. "Don't touch." He hissed.

Feeling a weight removed from his right hand, he looked back to see that the swordsmith he was grabbing onto had also been snatched away by Tanjiro.

"Are you okay?" He asked frantically.

"G-get off me!"

"You don't look so good, take care of yourself!"

"Go away! I-I'm not handing this key to anyone. Not even under torture. It is going to break very soon!"

Muichiro cut in, his voice still cold. "Have you ever been under torture? Not even adults can endure it, so it's impossible for you. It seems like you're just a dumb kid who doesn't know his place."

His eyes looked down to look directly into the swordsmith's eyes. It sent chills down both of the boys' spines.

"And so what if it breaks? Just make another. You know, in all this time that you've been mumbling and grumbling, do you know how many people have died?"

Tanjiro looked like he was going to argue, but he hesitated when he heard that last sentence.

"This is what happens when you get in the way of a Hashira." Muichiro continued. "Unlike you people, a Pillar's time is extremely important. You'd understand if you thought a little. Swordsmiths can't fight. They can't save lives. Making weapons is all they're good for."