Night fell quietly over the Demon Slayer Corps estate, but rest was far from anyone's mind.
The corps had changed.
Not from war. But from one man.
No demon. No Moon Rank. Just him.
The Doom Slayer.
It wasn't a matter of debate anymore. Upper Rank Five was dead. No blade. No sunlight. No breathing forms. Just annihilation.
Corps Dormitories – The New Addition
After an awkward debate among Kakushi, it was decided that the Slayer must be given a place to sleep… or, at least, stay.
The largest dormitory room—typically reserved for injured Hashira—was cleared and emptied.
A sign was quietly nailed to the door:
"SLAYER – DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT PERMISSION.Also, don't knock too loud."
Five minutes after the room was prepared, the Slayer arrived.
He looked at the building. At the door. At the knob.
He stepped forward…
…and walked straight through the wall.
CRUNCH. THOOM.
Wood shattered like paper. The wall crumbled around his armored bulk as he simply entered with no pause, as if the door wasn't there at all.
Kakushi in the distance blinked. One of them raised a hand.
"Should… should we fix it?"
The other whispered back, "You wanna tell him to use the door?"
"…Nope."
Inside, the Slayer didn't glance at the debris. He simply stood in the empty room for a few seconds… then turned and walked through the other side, this time out to the small back yard.
A giant oak log, felled recently for construction, lay on the grass.
The Slayer sat on it—still, armored, silent—bathed in moonlight. The Shield Saw rested against the log. His head tilted upward slightly, watching the sky.
There were no demons now.
But he never rested.
Fifteen Minutes Later – Footsteps on Gravel
Tanjiro Kamado jogged through the Corps grounds, breathing lightly, a wrapped parcel under his arm.
He paused outside the shattered dormitory wall, sweat dotting his brow.
"…That's new."
His eyes widened as he peered through the ruin, catching sight of the Slayer's shadow beyond the opposite wall.
"Right. He doesn't use doors."
Tanjiro stepped carefully over the broken wood and made his way around, heart pounding a bit—not from fear, but awe.
He reached the backyard.
The moon shone over green grass. Crickets chirped. A breeze carried petals from a distant sakura tree.
And there, sitting like a monument to war, was the Doom Slayer, seated on the log.
Unmoving. Watching the moon.
Tanjiro stood respectfully at the edge.
He knocked gently on the tree trunk nearby, even though it felt silly.
"Excuse me… Slayer-san?"
No response.
He stepped forward.
"I… I wanted to thank you. For what you did. At the trial. For protecting my sister. For helping me."
The Slayer remained seated, his green visor unmoving.
Tanjiro continued. "You didn't have to. You didn't know me. Or her. But you stood between us and that Hashira like it was nothing. Like you've done it a thousand times before…"
Still silence.
"I don't know if you can hear me. Or if you even care. But… I brought this."
He held up the parcel.
"It's rice balls. I know it's not much. But I made them myself. Just in case you… well… eat."
He set them gently beside the Slayer on the log, wrapping them in cloth so they wouldn't touch the dried blood on the armor.
"I'll go now."
He turned to leave.
But then—
A low mechanical hiss.
Tanjiro looked back.
The Slayer had shifted slightly. His armored hand reached out—slowly—and took the rice ball parcel.
Not a word. Not a nod.
Just action.
Tanjiro smiled.
"That's enough for me."
He bowed once, deeply, and walked back toward the ruined dormitory, slipping through the wall again.
Behind him, the Slayer remained still, the parcel resting in his hands.
In the quiet of night, for the first time in this world…
…he stayed seated.