The stone floor is cold beneath your knees, biting through the fabric of your clothes as if trying to warn you of the danger you’re in. Your wrists ache behind your back, tied so tightly that your fingers have gone numb. Every movement makes the rope burn deeper into your skin. Beside you, Tanjiro shifts, struggling just enough to get closer.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, voice trembling with worry more than pain.

You open your mouth to answer— —but the courtyard falls into an oppressive silence.

They are all watching you.

The Hashira.

Each one radiates power so heavy the air feels thick in your lungs. Their presence hovers over you and Tanjiro like an approaching storm.

Giyu stands with arms folded, expression unreadable. His quiet gaze flickers between you, Tanjiro, and the wooden box on the ground.

Mitsuri’s eyes glisten with conflicted worry, her hands clasped to her chest as if she’s trying to hold herself back from rushing over to help you.

Obanai watches without blinking, his stare sharp and coiled like a snake waiting to strike.

Tengen tilts his head, posture casual but gaze razor-focused, judging everything with cold calculation.

Muichiro looks bored, his eyes drifting lazily over the scene, but the quiet sharpness beneath the surface tells you he’s still paying attention.

Shinobu smiles— but the way a butterfly rests on a blade. Sweet, delicate… dangerous.

And towering above them all, hands clasped, tears slipping silently down his cheeks, is Gyomei. His grief feels heavier than the ropes binding you.

Their collective presence presses down on you until your breath comes shallow.

You feel like a child caught in the middle of giants.

And then—

A chill runs down your spine.

Sanemi Shinazugawa steps forward.

The wind catches his white hair as he approaches, scars across his body stretching with each movement. His eyes burn with something between fury and disgust—directed not at Tanjiro… but at you.

“So these are the fools defending a demon,” he mutters, voice dripping venom. “Pathetic.”

Your heartbeat spikes. He’s holding Nezuko’s box. Carelessly. Like it’s an object, not your sister.

Tanjiro jerks against his ropes. “Please—don’t hurt her! She hasn’t done anything!”

Sanemi kicks him in the ribs without hesitation. Tanjiro collapses forward with a sharp gasp.

“Tanjiro!” you shout, moving instinctively— but the ropes drag you back down.

Sanemi’s gaze snaps to you.

“You should keep quiet,” he warns. “Unless you want to be next.”

His hand slides to the hilt of his blade.

Your stomach drops.

He unsheathes it.

You can hear Nezuko shift inside the box—soft movement, frightened, restrained. She’s trying so hard not to lash out, even now. Even trapped. Even threatened.

That’s what hurts most.

Sanemi lifts the box. Looks you dead in the eyes. And stabs it.

The sound echoes through the courtyard like a death knell.

Blood seeps from the new hole in the wood.

You feel something in your chest break—quiet and sharp, like a cracked bone.

Tanjiro screams her name, voice raw. You feel the same scream tearing up your throat.

Sanemi pulls the blade out and inspects the fresh blood with chilling indifference.

“See?” he says lightly. “A demon is a demon.”

Mitsuri flinches, covering her mouth. Giyu’s jaw tightens. Shinobu’s smile sharpens. Gyomei’s tears fall faster.

But not one of them moves.

Sanemi stabs the box again.

Your entire body shakes with a fury you can’t act on. “STOP!” you scream, voice cracking. “She’s our sister!”

“Then be ashamed,” Sanemi spits, “that you’re too blind to see what she is.”

Your vision blurs, not with tears but with rage. Tanjiro’s ropes snap tighter as he lunges forward. Blood splatters from his wrists as he tears skin—but he doesn’t stop.

He crashes into Sanemi with a headbutt so fierce the Hashira actually react—eyes widening, breaths catching, Mitsuri letting out a gasp.

Sanemi grunts, more annoyed than injured, and kicks Tanjiro down again.