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**side note, just going to say now that I do not own the conversation between Giyuu and Tanjiro, or the death of Tanjiro's family. Credit to the rightful creator because I'm too lazy to go search up who made the manga.**

TW: mention of attempted s**cide, mention of sh

Giyuu's POV (rewind a few months)
There's always been someone there to stop me from doing it. Someone to grab my hand before I slice my neck with my sword, someone to pull me out of the water before I drown. Usually, that person was Urokodaki-san or Makomo, and for that reason, I will always feel grateful to them. But to some small extent, I will always despise them for saving me. For keeping me from joining Sabito, wherever he is.

Now that I'm a hashira, there's no one there. None of them care about me. They're all good people, don't get me wrong, they either don't understand, or don't see. Not that I want them to.

The insect hashira, Shinobu Kocho, takes a liking to teasing me about how I 'have no friends' and 'no one likes me', and shaming me for not talking to my comrades much. She isn't wrong, the only hashira who cares in the slightest is Mitsuri Kanroji. Kanroji is also the only person other than Makomo and Urokodaki that knows Sabito existed, and how much his death affected me.

I don't like returning to the demon slayer headquarters, mostly because it forces me to be around people. Socializing was never my strong suit, but now I just find it impossible to talk to anyone.

I find the most peace when I'm in my assigned region, patrolling and slaying any demons I come across. Using my sword on other living, breathing creatures, takes away some of the urge to use it on myself. Even so, my wrists are constantly covered in long, bloody lines, a dampener to my strength that I am able to take only because of my skill level. Hashira can take that risk, unlike the lower ranks.

Cutting myself has never had any bad effects on my ability to fight, thank goodness. If there's any way I don't want to go down, it's by a demon.

As I drove the blade of my sword through the neck of a demon, the quick movement brought a harsh sting to my arms. I straightened up and looked down at me sleeves with a dead look in my eyes. Red stains seeped through the fabric, and I cursed silently as I headed for the nearest stream. No way am I going to let bloodstains ruin this haori.

When I reached the fast-flowing mountain water, I dipped both my hands in to wash off the blood trickling down my palms. Small clouds of dark red tainted the river, whisked away by the current. I pushed my hands into the water further, until all the blood was gone, and my sleeves were rid of the stains.

Pulling my forearms out of the water, I shook them rapidly to get the excess water off. However, the sleeves of my haori stayed soaked, much to my delight.

"Great. Just great." I scowled slightly as I heard the lopsided wing beats of my crow.

"Giyuu Tomioka! There is a demon in the area! Cawww! I repeat! There is a demon in the area!" It shouted hoarsely.

"Are you one hundred percent sure?" My kasugai crow was old, and had gotten directions and missions mixed up in the past. In my opinion, it should have retired a long time ago. If crows could even do that.

"ONE HUNDRED PERCENT SURE! HEAD- erm... NORTH!"

"You know, that hesitation is really reassuring." I said as I started sprinting north.

Before long, I came across a small wooden house with logs chopped up and stacked to one side of it. It was a nice little place, except for the fact that the walls were dripping red.

Five lifeless corpses lay mangled on the ground, four inside, one outside. Four of them were young children, one of those four had to be no older than three years old. All dead.

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