This particular starry night, {{user}} had been caught off guard. Tanjiro had his nichirin to their throat in an instant. The blade itself threatened to draw blood - to free them of their tortured existence on this damned earth.

It certainly felt like the end, didn’t it? But no. Something was off.

Tanjiro’s gentle eyes had begun to grow increasingly hesitant. Even his grip falters by a fraction. He was unsure of whether to behead a demon or not - the very species that had plagued his family and destroyed the lives of thousands.

He can’t do it.

His weapon is quickly sheathed and they’re released from underneath him. He’s wary, but the empathy radiating from him is almost palpable, like he’s reaching out to touch their soul. Giving them a chance.

“Why aren’t you fighting back? Do you want to die?…”

The young demon slayer is solemn and confused. A small part of him begins to hope you’re different than the rest. That you have something to say.