The sound of boots thudding against the pavement echoed through the narrow alley, sharp and unyielding.
"Stop running! You wicked demon! You must meet your end!"
The figure ahead twisted sharply, gasping, his heart racing in his chest.
"Damn it… I really messed up," he muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning for a way out as the shouts grew louder.
"No choice…" he whispered to himself. His legs slowed, finally coming to a halt as the four Demon Slayers closed in, forming a tight circle around him.
One of them stepped forward, gripping his sword tightly. "It's time for you to die."
"Hold on a second," the figure said calmly, raising a hand. His other hand clutched the hilt of a Nichirin sword, its black steel faintly glinting in the dim light. "Can't you see what I'm holding?"
The Slayers froze. One narrowed his eyes. "…A Demon Slayer?!"
Another spat on the ground. "That's nonsense! He was just devouring a human moments ago!"
Inside, the figure remained perfectly composed, watching their reactions. This isn't going well… he thought. And that wasn't a human. It was a demon.
He sighed, exhaling slowly as if the chase had drained him.
"My name… is Ichizo Kamado," he said, his voice steady, almost casual.
One of the Slayers sneered, disbelief flashing in his eyes. "So… you're giving us your name before you kick the bucket?!"
Before he could finish, Ichizo's blade moved in a blur. A clean slice across the man's neck sent him crashing to the ground, life extinguished.
The remaining three Slayers stumbled back, shock and fear written all over their faces. They lunged to attack, shouting, "He's a demon!"
Ichizo tilted his head, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Yes… I'm a demon."
In an instant, he dodged their strikes with ease. With precise, ruthless swings of his Nichirin sword, he took them down one by one. Crimson blood sprayed across the alley, glistening in the moonlight.
As he stepped over the fallen, he wiped his blade clean with a calm motion, then muttered softly to himself:
"And no… I'm not a demon."
Ichizo strolled through the quiet streets, the cool night air gently brushing against his cloak. Each step he took was deliberate and calm, as if he bore the weight of the world without any rush. Before long, he spotted the familiar sight of Tamayo's hideout a small, discreet house nestled away from prying eyes.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"I'm home," he announced, his voice steady yet authoritative.
Tamayo emerged from the kitchen, a warm smile lighting up her face. "Welcome back, Ichizo."
Ichizo's gaze swept across the room. "Where's Yushiro?"
Moments later, Yushiro appeared from a side room, bowing slightly. "Welcome back, Prince," he said with a cheerful tone.
Ichizo's eyebrow twitched at the title, but he brushed it off without a second thought.
Tamayo's expression sharpened with curiosity. "Were you out demon hunting today?"
"Yeah," Ichizo replied, leaning casually against the doorframe. "I even ran into some Demon Slayers… they saw me take down a demon."
Before Tamayo could respond, she suddenly lunged forward, gripping Ichizo by the shoulders.
"Did… did you kill those Slayers?!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Ichizo's face remained perfectly composed. Without missing a beat, he replied, his voice smooth and steady:
"No," he said. "And why would I harm the very people I'm trying to help? Come on, Mother."
Tamayo paused for a moment, taken aback by his quick response and the hint of teasing in his tone. Ichizo's red eyes met hers, unwavering and calm, as if he had already settled the matter in his mind.
Yushiro peeked nervously from behind, unsure whether to laugh or stay quiet, while Tamayo's grip on Ichizo loosened a bit.
Ichizo let out a soft exhale, almost amused, and added quietly, "They were… just confused. Nothing more."
Ichizo stretched lightly, his face a mask of mystery.
"I'm going to take a nap. Goodnight," he said simply, already heading toward his room.
"Goodnight," Tamayo replied softly, her gaze following him as he walked away.
Once the door clicked shut behind him, Tamayo sank into her chair, her mind drifting. Ichizo… she thought quietly. He was so different when he was younger… full of cheer and warmth… but after he uncovered that secret, everything shifted. He turned cold, calm, and distant. We hardly talk like we used to. If only I had spoken up sooner…
Noticing her silence, Yushiro approached with caution. "Lady Tamayo… are you okay?"
Tamayo straightened a bit and offered a faint smile. "Yes… I'm fine."
Yet her eyes remained fixed on the closed door, where Ichizo lay in shadowy silence, burdened by his hidden truths.
Night had fallen once more, dark and still, but Ichizo stayed in his room, lounging comfortably on the wooden floor.
Should I go hunt demons again… or train tonight? he pondered, letting out a soft sigh. The weight of the night and the lingering tension from yesterday hung lightly in his thoughts.
Then, faint voices floated through the walls. Tamayo's voice… and another, unfamiliar one he hadn't heard before.
Intrigued, Ichizo got up, moving quietly toward the source. He pressed his ear against the wall, straining to listen.
Tamayo's calm voice reached him first. "…In two hundred years, Yushiro is the only one who can do it."
Ichizo's eyes narrowed. Yeah, I already knew that.
Suddenly, another voice burst out, impatient and mocking. "How old are you, Mrs. Tamayo?"
Yushiro's sharp comeback followed right after. "Don't ask a woman her age, you brute!"
A faint, knowing smirk crept onto Ichizo's lips. He closed his eyes for a moment, processing the conversation, then opened them again. Across the hall stood two unfamiliar figures, cloaked in shadow, observing Tamayo and Yushiro with keen interest.
Interesting… Ichizo mused, his mind racing with possibilities. Something important was happening, and he knew he had to keep a close watch on it.
His eyes widened slightly as he zeroed in on the figure in front of him. Wild black hair with a hint of burgundy framed a face marked by a noticeable scar on the forehead, and dark red eyes sparkled with a dangerous glint.
His gaze traveled down to the Demon Slayer uniform.
He's one of them… Ichizo thought sharply. Is he here to kill Mother? I need to act quickly.
He moved quietly toward the door, ready to step in, when a sudden chill crept down his spine. Instinctively, he ducked behind cover, muscles tensed like a coiled spring.
Peeking through a crack, he caught sight of Tamayo and Yushiro, both unharmed and calm in their own ways, but the presence of the Slayer—and something else… a demon—set off alarm bells in his mind.
He inhaled sharply, catching the scent: demon blood.
Ahead, the stranger was engaging the demons with a deadly precision. Ichizo's keen eyes absorbed every detail: the footwork, the grip, the swings of the Nichirin sword.
He wanted to jump in, to end the fight swiftly, but a part of him hesitated. Let's see what this Demon Slayer can really do first…
The demons lunged, claws glinting in the moonlight. The Slayer pivoted, sidestepped, and countered, landing blows that sent them reeling. Ichizo couldn't help but smirk faintly, admiration mingling with caution.
Interesting… very interesting. Not bad… but let's see how far he can go before I decide to step in.
From his hidden spot, Ichizo's eyes darted, calculating trajectories, predicting movements, and waiting for the perfect moment to intervene all while staying out of sight.