After Akira returned from her latest disappearing act, Tanjiro examined the mission reports by firelight. Every documented sighting in the region fell within areas where she'd operated before.
The metallic scent that had puzzled him lingered throughout the forest like an invisible signature.
When she settled beside the fire, her amber eyes reflected the flames with an intensity that reminded him uncomfortably of demon sight.
"Successful day," she said. "Three demons pacified without bloodshed."
"All the sightings in these reports." Tanjiro tapped the papers. His voice was carefully neutral. "They're all in areas where you've operated before."
"Coincidence. I'm thorough in my territory coverage."
"Or they're gathering where you've been. Following you."
"Following me?" Akira's laugh sounded genuine. It didn't dispel the wrongness pressing against his consciousness. "Why would demons follow a demon slayer?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out."
"Maybe you're overthinking this, Kamado-san. Sometimes the simple explanation is correct—I'm good at my job."
The fire crackled between them as dawn approached. Shadows danced across both their faces. Tanjiro's instincts warred with the evidence of his eyes.
Three demons pacified without violence. No human lives lost. Techniques that seemed to offer everything the Corps had always wanted.
But his enhanced senses told a different story. The wrongness that clung to her. The impossible disappearances. The way demons spoke to her like old acquaintances rather than enemies.
"Your technique," he said carefully. Each word was chosen like a step across thin ice. "Where did you learn it?"
"Trial and error. Necessity and desperation." Akira poked the fire with a stick. Sparks spiraled into the night sky. "When conventional methods fail, you adapt or die."
"Who taught you breathing techniques at all?"
"Self-taught, mostly. I had... access to some texts. Ancient approaches that predated current Corps methods."
"What kind of texts?"
"The kind that explored alternatives to killing." She met his gaze across the flames. In the firelight her eyes seemed to shift between human amber and something else entirely. "Not everyone who studies demons wants to destroy them, Kamado-san. Some of us want to understand them."
"Understanding and trusting are different things."
"Are they? Your sister was a demon once. Did you trust her?"
The question hit like a physical blow. It struck at the heart of his deepest conflicts.
"That was completely different."
"Was it? Or are you simply more comfortable with familiar exceptions than new possibilities?"
Tanjiro stared into the fire. He wrestled with doubts he couldn't voice and instincts he couldn't ignore. The flames cast dancing shadows across their faces.
No amount of light could dispel the darkness growing in his understanding of the woman sitting across from him.
Everything about her seemed reasonable when examined piece by piece. But together, the pieces formed a picture that made his blood run cold.
A demon slayer who left no blood on her blade. Whose techniques created docile followers rather than true peace. Whose very presence drew the creatures she claimed to save.
And whose amber eyes reflected firelight exactly like demon sight in the darkness between them.