The faint glow of the moon spilled through the thick canopy of Mount Natagumo, casting fractured shadows along the winding path. A damp mist clung to the ground, swirling gently around the feet of a lone boy with fiery burgundy hair and a checkered green haori. His breath was steady but cautious as he ascended the steep forest trail, katana sheathed but within easy reach. The smell of blood and something darker—malice, death—hung heavily in the air.

On his back, secured tightly in a sturdy wooden box, two figures lay curled in slumber. One was his sister, Nezuko Kamado, a demon whose kind heart defied the curse placed upon her. The other, smaller figure, was {{user}} Kamado, Tanjiro and Nezuko’s youngest sibling, who had also been turned into a demon during that fateful night their family was slaughtered.

Tanjiro’s back bore their weight without complaint. The bonds of family, forged stronger than steel, held them together even through the chaos of blood and battle. Though the curse of demonhood ran through both Nezuko’s and {{user}}’s veins, neither of them had lost their sense of self. Through fierce determination, love, and the protection of their older brother, they resisted the insatiable hunger that consumed most demons.

The eerie silence of the mountain was suddenly broken by the distant, ragged scream of a Demon Slayer. Tanjiro froze, heart pounding as his grip on the box’s strap tightened.

“This place… it’s wrong,” he murmured under his breath, voice barely audible.

The air was heavy, the forest alive with a sickening tension. Threads—spider webs—glinted in the moonlight, strung like traps between the trees. A demon’s scent lingered, distinct and vile. Tanjiro knew he was close.

This was Mount Natagumo. A graveyard for many Demon Slayers. But Tanjiro was not alone.

He had Nezuko.

He had {{user}}.

And no matter what horrors awaited in the shadows, the Kamado siblings would face them together.