Nezuko, her eyes vacant, touched the spot on her forehead where it had struck, a swollen bump already forming and threads of blood trickling down.
Her gaze turned pitiful, tears brimming in her eyes. With a choked sob, she once again rammed her forehead toward Tanjiro's.
"No—that's not it! She's trying to wake them up! Stop her, now!"
The four children realized it at last and rushed to restrain Nezuko's arms and legs.
"Don't… disturb our sweet dreams, you bastard!"
They poured every ounce of strength they had into holding her back.
But how could the strength of mere children compare to that of a demon? Even with the four clinging to her body, Nezuko seemed barely hindered, and she lunged once again to crash her forehead against Tanjiro's.
Blocked, injured, and feeling wronged, Nezuko instinctively unleashed her Blood Demon Art—Exploding Blood.
Her body was suddenly wreathed in scorching flames. Yet the fire carried its peculiar property: it only burned what she willed it to burn. The children were untouched.
Even so, the blazing flames forced them to recoil in fear, loosening their grip.
Unimpeded, Nezuko slammed her forehead into Tanjiro's once more. Her fire surged from her body onto his.
Inside Tanjiro's dream.
His whole family was gathered, joyfully sharing dinner. The warmth of the scene filled him, but Tanjiro realized at once: this was only a dream.
Even so, a powerful yearning welled inside him—a desire to remain.
That impulse lasted only a moment before Tanjiro quelled it. He looked down at his scarred and battered hands. They were proof of his vow—his promise to Nezuko, his pledge to defeat their enemy.
That promise was not yet fulfilled. He could not allow himself to be lost in a dream.
As he wrestled with the thought of how to break free, flames suddenly engulfed his body within the dream.
When the fire faded, his clothes had transformed into the Demon Slayer uniform, and at his waist hung his Nichirin Blade.
He knew immediately—this was Nezuko's fire. She was calling out to him.
Looking at the familiar faces before him, Tanjiro lowered his head, eyes shadowed with guilt and regret.
"I must return at once. Forgive me…"
Amidst the voices of his siblings crying, 'Onii-chan!', Tanjiro steeled himself and left the house, running into the forest in search of an exit from the dream.
"Onii, where are you going?" Nezuko's voice called from behind. "I picked lots of wild vegetables today."
His legs suddenly felt heavy, weighed down with a thousand chains. He faltered. His family followed, their faces filled with worry.
"Tanjiro, are you all right? What's wrong?" asked his mother, Kie, with deep concern.
Tanjiro stood with his back to them, silent, eyes brimming with tears.
How I wish I could stay here forever. How I wish I could turn back…
If only things had been this way. If only everyone were still alive. If only Nezuko could stand under the sun again, smiling beneath the blue sky. If only I could still be burning charcoal, never once forced to take up the sword. If only… If only…
The vision of a life that should have been filled him with aching grief and unrelenting regret.
"But I've already lost it all. There's no going back!"
Resolute, Tanjiro stepped forward—one step, then another—before breaking into a run once more.
Behind him, in the snowy woods, his family stood abandoned, while only his solitary footprints trailed away.
"Onii! Don't leave me!" cried the youngest, Rokuta, tears streaming as he chased after.
Tanjiro's tears finally overflowed, spilling down his cheeks. His heart clenched with unbearable sorrow.
"I'm sorry, Rokuta! I can't stay by your side… but I will always, always carry you in my heart! All of you! Endless gratitude, endless regret—I will never forget! My soul will forever remain with you!"
"So please… forgive me!"
In the endless whiteness of the dream's forest, Tanjiro searched desperately for an exit, yet none appeared.
Then suddenly, a familiar voice rang in his ears:
"Tanjiro—take up your blade! What you must cut down lies here!"
"What I must cut down… lies here?" Tanjiro repeated inwardly, trying to grasp its meaning.
His hand moved almost by instinct to his Nichirin Blade. He drew it, its edge gleaming with a chilling brilliance.
What I must cut down… in order to awaken. I understand now.
Since this was a dream, the only thing that did not belong… was himself. If he severed his own form, cut down the version of himself that should not exist, then surely he would awaken.
Holding his breath, Tanjiro pressed the blade flat against his own neck, swallowing hard.
"Do not falter! Cut it! Strike it down! To awaken, you must sever your own neck, even if only within the dream!"
With a roar, Tanjiro swung. The Nichirin Blade sliced across his throat, blood spraying, staining the pure white snow in scarlet.
As his dream-self fell, the fabricated world began to collapse.
On the Mugen Train, Tanjiro's eyes snapped open. He lurched upright, clutching his throat, gasping in terror.
"I… I'm alive…"
He sensed movement behind him and turned. The four children were still struggling to restrain Nezuko. When they saw Tanjiro awake, fear overwhelmed them, and they shrank back into a corner.
"You… who are you?" Tanjiro asked.
One of the girls, trembling with a hoe clutched in her hand, charged at him with a cry, eyes filled with both terror and rage.
Tanjiro dodged, and the strike went wide. The girl glared at him bitterly.
"Stay out of the way! Because of you, we can't dream anymore!"
Tanjiro watched her, piecing together the truth from both her words and the dream he had barely escaped.
His fists clenched, fury burning within him.
"A demon who toys with people's hearts like this… unforgivable!"
"I know why you want to stay in your dream. I understand… I wanted that too. If only this were all a dream—how I wish that were true. But I must fight."
Resolute, Tanjiro slipped past them, striking each child with a swift hand chop, leaving them unconscious but unharmed.
Rengoku, Zenitsu, and Inosuke were still trapped in their own dreams. Leaving them behind, Tanjiro took Nezuko by the hand and stepped out of the carriage. Alone, he set off to hunt down the demon.
The Mugen Train roared forward through the night, its steel body saturated with a thick, oppressive aura of demon bloodlust.
Climbing to the roof of the train, Tanjiro finally saw the one behind it all—
Lower Rank One of the Twelve Kizuki: Enmu
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