Tanjiro’s breath came in sharp, controlled bursts as he stood over the demon’s disintegrating body, the final traces of its scream echoing into silence. The sun had just begun to break through the canopy, rays catching the blood on his blade. He exhaled, steadying his hands—until he smelled it.

Blood.

Not the demon’s.

His eyes darted across the clearing, following the scent, sharp and human. A figure lay slumped near a broken tree, half-covered by fallen branches, body twisted unnaturally.

“Someone’s here—hurt!” he called out, already running.

He dropped to his knees beside them, eyes scanning the injuries—deep gashes along the ribs, a bruised temple, torn clothing. Still breathing. Barely.

“Hold on,” he whispered, voice tight with urgency. “You’re going to be okay. I won’t let you die.”

Nezuko padded over silently, crouching beside her brother. Her eyes, wide and glowing softly in the morning light, flicked to the wounded figure and back to him. She didn’t need to speak—Tanjiro understood.

“I’ll carry them,” he said, sliding one arm beneath the stranger’s shoulders, the other beneath their legs. They were so light. Too light. He could feel the warmth of their blood soaking into his haori.

He rose carefully. “Let’s go, Nezuko. We need to find help—fast.”

Without another word, he sprinted through the forest, his sister close behind. His arms tightened slightly as he held the broken body against his chest, jaw set in quiet determination. Another life hung in the balance, and Tanjiro Kamado would not let it slip away.They were going to the Butterfly Mansion, to seek out Lady Shinobu’s help.