The (brutal and insane) training
Hi Tanjiro!
Guess what? I passed Mr, Jigoro’s test! Though I’m pretty sure I’ll have to call him Master now (you cannot imagine how awkward it is calling someone shorter than you Master), but still! Starting today, I’m going to train with him to get ready for Final Selection! I’ll try to add as many entries as I can, so you’ll know what happened when you wake up! I hope you do soon.
It’s been a week since I passed my Master's test, and the reason I haven’t trained before that was because he told me to rest up and heal. I wanted to start right away, but he told me I need to be in peak condition for his training (if it was anything like those 10 laps, then I’d definitely run right back to bed). He also threatened to hit me with his cane if I didn’t, so I stayed and rested.
(Ironic, huh? I would’ve forced you to rest, yet here I am getting forced to rest too.)
Anyways, don’t worry. I really like the Master (it’s the cane I hate), and he says he’ll teach me all that he knows so I can fight and kill demons. He says it’ll be a hard road for me, but if I work hard, then I might just be ready for Final Selection! Then I’ll win that wager and be able to look after you and find a way to turn you back to human!
I promise, I’ll do everything I can to help! I’ll make you proud, Big Brother!
Nezuko
p.s. If you’re awake and I’m not here, then please write something in, even if it’s just Hi. I’ll be happy knowing you’ve woken up even for just a bit.
There was a knock on the door. “Get ready, we’ll be training soon.”
Nezuko paused her writing and looked at the doorway. “Yes, sir!”
The sound of footsteps faded from the other side as Nezuko set her ink brush down, her eyes lingering on the semi-visible characters illuminated by the soft glow of the room’s lamp. She closed the journal with a heavy heart, feeling the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. She stood and changed into the set of clothes she had been given the day prior for training.
The outfit consisted of black pants and a light gray yukata with a similar triangle pattern to Kuwajima’s kimono but in white. They were a bit too big and clearly boys' clothing (something her new mentor had apologized for), but she was assured that for the type of training she was going to undertake, they would serve their purpose.
Nezuko hadn’t argued, as she was used to wearing hand-me-downs and didn’t care much for wearing anything too new or expensive. It was the very reason she had worn the same pink kimono since she was young, making alterations as she got older so her family could use what little money they had on food and her younger siblings.
Now, that kimono, along with her brown haori and Tanjiro’s checkered one, were carefully tucked away, awaiting a time when she could wash and repair them. She almost wanted to turn down the offer of new clothes initially, but she realized that she had barely made it through the ten laps in the forest in her tattered and bloody kimono. If this was the kind of work she would be doing for the next two years, wearing long, loose garments would only hinder her.
She wasn’t ready to part with her kimono just yet, though. Just as Tanjiro’s green haori was significant to him, her pink kimono held sentimental value that she couldn’t bear to let go of. It was a piece of her past, a tangible connection to her family, and letting it go felt like severing a part of herself.
With these thoughts, Nezuko knelt by the futon after changing. Tanjiro still slept soundly, as he had since they arrived. She gently fiddled with the covers, tucking a stray strand of his unnaturally bright red hair behind his ear.
“I’ll be back,” Nezuko whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “Don’t worry about me. I promise, I’ll get stronger for the both of us.”
She lingered for a moment, hoping for any sign of response. When he didn’t even so much as twitch, she sighed, feeling an ache in her heart. It was best to let him rest. Even though he had been asleep for the entire week, she could still see the shallow rise and fall of his chest and the occasional twitch of his eyes. He was breathing and moving, so she hoped that meant everything was still okay.
She hoped with all her heart that everything was still okay.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and the sliding door opened to reveal Master standing at the threshold. “Are you ready?”
Nezuko nodded, blowing out the lantern light next to the bed and rising to her feet. She spoke louder when she turned back to her new teacher. “I’m ready, Master.”
With one last, lingering look at her brother, Nezuko felt a mix of determination and sorrow. Leaving him behind, even for a short time, felt like leaving a part of her heart. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and steeled herself for the challenges ahead.
As they exited the room, shutting the door softly, the sense of finality hit her. It felt like closing a chapter of her life, stepping into an uncertain future. The quiet room behind her now held her sleeping demon brother, alone, as she embarked on this journey to become stronger.
Nezuko yelped as she ran beneath the canopy of white blossoms once again, this time under the harsh glare of daylight, and narrowly avoided a barrage of small rocks from the side. She rolled into the dirt and quickly sprang up, her muscles aching, continuing her run through the trees and becoming a bit more familiar with the path.
As she continued her laps, the words of her master from earlier in the week echoed in her mind.
“The Demon Slayer Corps is an organization that has been around since ancient times, though not recognized by the government and with the identity of our leader remaining a mystery to all but a select few. There are many of us, and our sole duty, as I am sure you have figured out by now, is the eradication of demons, creatures with supernatural strength and powers.
“The only way to completely destroy a demon is through the use of sunlight or decapitation with swords made of a special steel. And yet, we demon slayers fight these immortal beings with our mere mortal strength. Our wounds may take time to heal, and the loss of a limb is permanent, but we will always fight to protect humanity from the monsters that prowl under the cowardice of the night. Understand?”
Nezuko nodded, remembering how they had sat across from each other in the main room, drinking tea as the early morning sun filtered into the old house.
Kuwajima continued with his lecture. “I am a demon slayer cultivator, and it’s my job to train bright-eyed newbies like yourself to become exceptional swordsmen. There are others like me with different styles of training, but since you ran into that idiot Kaigaku on the mountain, you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future. In that case, I’ll decide whether or not you’ll take the Final Selection test on Mount Fujikasane.”
Nezuko continued to nod, the information being somewhat familiar to her since her encounter with the rude swordsman. “And if I pass, I’ll officially become a demon slayer, right?”
“Correct,” Kuwajima rumbled, his eyes gleaming with intensity. His gaze slid over to the door behind her, where he knew Tanjiro was currently sleeping. “Now, I know the stakes that are involved and the time constraint you’re under, but I mean it; I won’t send you there unless I think you’re ready.”
Nezuko frowned, feeling the weight of his words, but didn’t argue. She stared at the tea in her cup, watching as the steam rose and curled, distorting her reflection of worry and doubt. “But…do you really think I can do this?”
There was a pause, then a hum. “Honestly, your chances are slim. Not only do you come from a more gentle upbringing, but you lack some of the basic strength men are expected to produce. Many say this profession doesn’t suit women, claiming them to be weak and that surviving Final Selection is a near impossible task that only the strongest come out of.”
A flash of indignation burned within Nezuko, and she looked up to rebut the old man’s words, but was surprised to see him grinning at her.
“So by that very logic, we can only assume that the women that do pass and serve the Corps are among the strongest warriors and individuals to grace Japan, don’t you agree?”
Nezuko leapt over a pitfall, ducking a swinging tree branch and quickly stepping over tripwires she could barely see. She resumed her running pace again, but felt her heart drop at the telltale snap of a wire and a large rock careened into her. Nezuko didn’t have time to dodge it, smashing into a tree off to the side.
She crumpled to the ground in a cry of pain and lay there for a few beats, catching her breath. Her side and leg muscles throbbed with dull pain, and her lungs burned with each breath she took. She felt gross with sweat from the sun and exertion, already covered in dirt and leaves.
A part of her wanted to quit, to be done with this relentless running.
But…
“I won’t sugarcoat it, this isn’t going to be easy.” Kuwajima took a sip from his drink, his expression thoughtful but stern. “You’re already at a bit of a disadvantage, not being able to take your time with this and having to work twice as hard to gain the strength and respect you deserve. But I promise, I’m going to give you every opportunity I can to help you reach your goal. If you’re committed and truly have your heart set on this, then I’ll make it happen. Sounds good?”
Nezuko blinked, feeling a surge of emotion. She was touched by the amount of faith Kuwajima seemed to have in her. After the past two weeks she had endured, it felt nice, and sparked her resolve to accomplish her goal and protect her older brother even more.
She could do this.
“Yeah,” she breathed, sitting up straighter and smiling with more determination. “Yes, I won’t let you down, Master! I can do it!”
Kuwajima laughed, something proud slipping onto his face. “That’s the spirit! Just what I like to hear! I mean, you won’t be saying that once I start making you run a hundred laps a day, but that’s the enthusiasm we’re looking for.”
Nezuko giggled, both of them taking a sip of their tea. The silence didn’t last when Nezuko suddenly choked and spat out her drink.
“Wait, how many laps?!”
Nezuko grunted and forced herself back up, ignoring the pain and exhaustion plaguing her body. She took a few stumbling steps but eventually found her pace again, passing the starting point. There was no stopping now—she just had to keep going, remembering her master’s words and the belief in her abilities.
I can do this.
I promise, Master.
Nezuko barreled onward into her next lap, her heart pounding with determination.
That was how the majority of her training started.
Thankfully, Kuwajima wasn’t making Nezuko run a hundred laps every day (something that had her breathing a HUGE sigh of relief). Rather, Nezuko was required to run under the white flower path ten times a day to begin building up her speed and stamina.
It was tiring enough to do at the crack of dawn, but the added traps made the entire endeavor more stressful than she hoped it would be. What was even more frustrating was the fact that the traps were never the same; every lap she ran had a different placement of the wires, pits, and branches. It made it nearly impossible to find a pattern, leaving her to rely on her instincts and senses.
(It also made her wonder where Kuwajima found the time to reset and move the traps since he was with her most of the time for training)
Running wasn’t the only type of training Nezuko focused on, though. She also did a large variety of exercises designed to work out every muscle in her body, the most strenuous ones being centered on improving her lack of upper body strength. By the end of each day, she would hobble back to her room and flop face first onto her futon, her entire body feeling as though she had been crushed in a landslide and had to claw her way out.
She had mumbled this one morning under her breath as she made her way to the running path. A loud cackle from behind made her scream and her heart nearly exploded in her chest. She turned around and saw Kuwajima poking his head out the door, smiling and throwing her a thumbs up.
“It means it’s working! We can start the hard stuff tomorrow! Good luck with that!”
He disappeared, and Nezuko tried not to let the annoyance show on her face the rest of the day. She didn’t know what to be more upset about: the fact that her mentor was having fun at her misery, or that somehow, he had heard her grumbling (and that wasn’t even the first time! How did this keep happening?!).
Still, she sucked it up and kept working.
And once the first month had passed, her training got more…interesting.
As Nezuko trudged through her daily exercises, she began to notice subtle changes in her strength and endurance. Each day, she pushed herself to the brink, feeling her muscles burn and her breath grow ragged. But with each session, she found herself recovering a bit faster, able to push just a little harder.
One particularly grueling day, after a session of lifting heavy rocks, Nezuko collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily. Kuwajima stood over her, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Think you're getting stronger, eh?" he teased, nudging her with his foot.
Nezuko groaned in response, too tired to form words. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky. "I think I'm turning into a rock," she muttered.
Kuwajima chuckled and offered her a hand. "Good. Now you'll be as tough as one too."
Dear Tanjiro,
Today I was given a real sword to use during training.
And apparently, there’s a right and a wrong way to hold it…
Nezuko examined the weapon in her hands. It looked similar to the sword Kaigaku had been using when they first met, except the blade was silver with yellow lines like lightning bolts spreading across the metal.
“This is a nichirin sword,” Kuwajima explained as the girl carefully examined the weapon in her hands. “It’s made from the steel I mentioned before. One that absorbs sunlight and gives it the strength to destroy demons.”
“Wow,” Nezuko breathed, running her fingers along the jagged lines and finding the surface of the blade to be perfectly smooth. It felt strange holding the sword, the rough leather around the handle rubbing against the soft palms of her hands. Despite clearly being a worn training sword, she couldn’t help but marvel at how it was just as elegant as the one she saw Kaigaku use. “It’s beautiful.”
Kuwajima nodded, walking a little closer and adjusting Nezuko’s grip on it. “Yes, and as deadly as they are, they can be quite fragile when used incorrectly. They’re weak on the sides, so always make sure you apply force along the blade’s edge where it’s strongest. You have to match the direction the blade’s facing with where you’re swinging it, otherwise it’ll break. And trust me, you DO NOT want to meet the people that will come for you if your sword breaks.”
“Why?” Nezuko asked, cocking her head curiously at the old man. “Are they mean?”
Her master stared at her, then grimaced. “Mean…isn’t the word I’d use. Just, don’t break your sword, okay?”
Nezuko nodded, deciding not to question her mentor’s words. Kuwajima then handed her a worn sword sheath and began walking back to where she usually did her non-running training. “Put that on quickly. We’ll be going over a few exercises I want you to practice with the blade.”
“Okay!”
Nezuko sheathed the sword and looped the old strap on it over her shoulder so it was across her back. She followed the old man and tried not to let her expression sour too much when he began explaining how she would be swinging her sword a thousand times a day and taking it with her for her morning runs.
He turned back to say something else, but froze. His eyes widened, and Nezuko couldn’t tell if it was from shock or horror.
“What?”
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”
“Huh?” Nezuko stepped back and gripped the strap across her chest. “I don’t-?”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR SWORD?”
“My sword—I just, I put it on! Isn’t this-?”
“NOT LIKE THAT! YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS!” Kuwajima jabbed his cane at her, looking very close to just throwing the stick at her. “Put that on your waist, now! Like a normal person!”
Her mouth opened to rebut, but one look at the rage building in his eyes silenced her. Nezuko wrestled the sword off and quickly fixed it so it rested just above her hip. “L-Like that?”
“Yes! I thought it’d be fairly obvious!” Kuwajima dragged a hand down his face and muttered under his breath, “God, this new generation of slayers is getting ridiculous. Don’t even know where to put their goddamn belts these days.”
“S-Sorry, sir,” Nezuko mumbled, trying not to fidget too much from the embarrassment. “I-”
“I don’t want to hear any more of it! Just start swinging your sword!”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
And that’s how Nezuko spent the rest of her day.
“Wait, so wearing it on your back is, like, wrong, right?”
“Yes.”
“And everyone knows this?”
“Yes, it’s common sense.”
“...then why does Kaigaku wear his sword like that?”
“Because he thinks it makes him look cool or something, I don’t know!”
“Okay, sorry, Master.”
…
…
Several awkward pauses went by before the Master spoke.
“Nezuko.”
“Yes, Master?”
“I want you to know…if I catch you wearing your sword like that again, I’m going to make you run nonstop the entire day or until you puke and pass out. So don’t you dare let me catch you copying that idiot!”
“... Yes, Master.”
Master Kuwajima then muttered under his breath, “Honestly, what’s next? Sword fashion trends?”
Nezuko stifled a giggle as she adjusted her sword at her waist. “I promise, no sword fashion trends on my watch, Master.”
Master Kuwajima shot her a sharp look but couldn’t hide the faint smirk playing on his lips. “Good. Now, let’s get back to swinging that sword. And remember—no back-strapping. Leave that to the show-offs.”
Nezuko smiled, feeling a mix of relief (mostly because she feared he was really gonna throw the stick at her). “Yes, Master. I’ll make sure to swing it properly.”
After that, Nezuko began running her laps with her sword.
It was much harder than she had originally anticipated. The added weight not only made dodging some of the traps more difficult, but the sheath kept getting caught against stray branches and undergrowth. There was even one embarrassing moment when she actually tripped over the sheath, causing her to get caught in a rope trap and dangle helplessly in the air for a few minutes.
She winced as she recalled that moment, her face burning with embarrassment. As she hung there, struggling to free herself, she couldn't help but think about how much easier it would be to just wear the sword on her back like Kaigaku. The practical side of her understood the appeal, especially after experiencing firsthand the inconvenience of wearing it at her waist.
But the threats her mentor made against her were enough to keep her from trying anything outside his watchful eyes. She could still hear Master Kuwajima’s stern warning: “If I catch you wearing your sword like that again, I’m going to make you run nonstop the entire day or until you puke and pass out.” Nezuko shivered at the thought of him using the stick to his advantage (he hits her enough that it bruises worse than the traps).
So she continued to stumble through her laps, trying not to groan when she kept triggering more traps than she was used to.
Dear Tanjiro,
Today I learned how to fall down and get back up quickly.
It didn’t help that my opponent was blindfolded the entire time…
“Come at me, Nezuko!”
“But…” Nezuko trailed off, staring helplessly at her master as he stood across from her, wielding nothing but his cane and a blindfold over his eyes. Her grip on her sword was loose, every instinct in her body telling her not to attack the defenseless old man standing in the clearing.
And did she mention the fact that he was wearing a blindfold?
“What are you waiting for? The sun to set?” Master Kuwajima growled, tapping his cane impatiently. “The demons won’t wait for you to make up your mind. You have to be the one to strike first and without mercy. Otherwise, you die!”
“But…isn’t this a bit much?” Nezuko tried to reason. This felt a bit too extreme for her first practice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Master Kuwajima had the audacity to laugh at her and shake his head. “Oh young lady, right now, you couldn’t hurt me even if you came at me with a bigger sword or, god forbid, a gun. I can easily whip your butt in a matter of seconds.”
…Well, that was a little rude.
“Quit overthinking things and just charge! Let out a barrage and don’t stop!”
Nezuko frowned but figured arguing was going to get her nowhere. So, she took a basic fighting stance, breathed, and ran at Master Kuwajima with all her might.
She only made it a few steps in front of him before she was flipped into the air and landed hard on her back.
“Ow!” she cried, wincing at the cackling her master was making at her. “How did you—?”
“Don’t stop! Keep going!” he called.
Nezuko grunted but followed the command and rolled into a stand, grabbing her sword and charging again.
This went on for several hours until the old man called it quits, removing the cloth around his eyes and moving so he stood over a thoroughly battered and bruised Nezuko.
“Never underestimate your opponent, no matter the condition they are in,” Master Kuwajima said, holding out a hand for Nezuko and helping her up. “Sight isn’t the only important sense your body utilizes. In life or death situations, you have to trust your instincts and whatever information you can gather in the moment. It may just very well save your life.”
Nezuko sighed but nodded, walking back toward the house to rest her weary bones. Her master’s cane intercepted her path.
“Oh yeah, you’re going to start running laps at night again. We need to build up more of that stamina since you couldn’t even get a hit on me. And no slacking off!”
Nezuko tried not to let the miserable expression show too much on her face.
Oh, lucky me.
Ten laps in the morning and ten laps at night was a lot. It left her legs feeling like those of a newborn deer and her entire body ready to fall apart. There were even days where she found herself puking from the exertion, and very tempted to just fall asleep on the training track the moment she completed her workout.
It was awful and painful and not a pleasant experience at all.
But Nezuko persisted.
She continued to swing her sword until her arms wanted to fall off, learning the basic sword swinging movements.
She continued attacking Master Kuwajima despite every bruise her body and pride would suffer, learning to take falls quickly and to recover just as fast for the next strike.
And she continued pushing herself despite the pain and exhaustion that now constantly plagued her. Because at the end of the day, there was no good reason to stop.
Because stopping meant giving up, and she wasn’t about to do that anytime soon.
Dear Tanjiro,
Today, I learned the proper way to breathe.
It's actually a lot more complicated than it looks…
Nezuko and Master Kuwajima were sitting across from each other once again, only this time under one of the flowering peach trees. Both were in meditative positions, but the older man was explaining the importance of breathing and different styles as Nezuko kept her eyes closed and practiced taking “proper” breaths.
Deep breath in…
Deep breath out…
Apparently, this was known as Total Concentration Breathing.
“Remember, take your time with your deep breathing so that as much oxygen can flow through every cell in your body as possible,” Master Kuwajima told her. “It will aid in your ability to heal and recover from injuries as well as energize yourself should you find your strength lacking.”
Deep breath in…
Deep breath out…
Nezuko didn’t respond, not wanting to break her rhythm. She did her best to block out the hums and chirps of nature around her and focused only on the sound of her breaths and the rumble of Master Kuwajima’s voice. It helped a bit that her mentor was tapping his finger against his cane at a slower pace than he normally did as he spoke, the steady staccato giving her a way to time how long to hold each inhale and exhale.
“For your reference, there are five main breathing styles: Water, Flame, Wind, Stone, and Thunder,” Master Kuwajima's voice continued to explain. “Of course, there are other subcategories of breathing that have appeared over time, but those won’t be your area of focus for now.”
Deep breath in…
Deep breath out…
“Each one has their own strengths and weaknesses, but they typically focus on a certain strength or skill of the body. The more in-tune with them you are, the more powerful your attacks become. For example, Water Breathing tends to be seen as a more defensively adaptive style, while Flame Breathing is revered for its natural offensive power.”
Deep breath in…
Deep breath out…
The tapping ceased, and there was the rustling of fabric.
“Alright, enough of that. Up, now.”
Nezuko opened her eyes and squinted at the bright sunlight streaming through the leaves and branches above. She stood up with Master Kuwajima, stretching her arms above her head and pushing her shoulder-length hair out of her face.
“I’m going to show you all six forms of your breathing style, so pay very close attention and take note of everything, and I mean everything. Okay?”
Nezuko nodded, taking a few steps back to give the old man space before asking, “So then, what breathing style will I be learning?”
Master Kuwajima smiled, something sharp and excited in the grin he gave her. “Why, only the fastest of all the breathing styles: Thunder Breathing.”
New exercises were added to Nezuko’s training once she started practicing the forms.
One involved lunging at a tree, drawing her sword, and slashing it quickly before using her foot to push her back and sheathe her sword in one fluid motion. This would be repeated, alternating which foot she would push off of, and learning to quickly draw her blade.
Another had her doing lunges and slashing at invisible foes with her blade, going back and forth countless times until she reached a high number or grew too dizzy from the constant twisting.
The worst involved doing a mix of them, but with some sort of handicap like a blindfold or (her least favorite) having rocks tied to her ankles.
Nezuko began to wonder how anyone who used Thunder Breathing still had legs. Seriously, were they all secretly superhuman? Because if this was the standard training regimen, she was starting to question her life choices.
"Is this some kind of elaborate prank?" Nezuko grumbled under her breath, glaring at the rocks tied to her ankles. "Because if it is, Master Kuwajima has a cruel sense of humor."
Master Kuwajima, hearing her muttering, smirked and called out, “Less talking, more training! Those forms won’t perfect themselves!”
Nezuko sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “Oh, lucky me. Endless slashing at invisible foes and tripping over rocks. My dream came true.”
As she resumed her training, a sarcastic thought crossed her mind: Maybe if she mastered Thunder Breathing, she’d finally understand why anyone would voluntarily go through this kind of torture. Or maybe she’d just get really, really good at falling down and getting back up again.
Either way, there was no turning back now. Nezuko took a deep breath, pushed herself off the tree, and lunged forward once more. One step closer to becoming a true Demon Slayer, with or without her legs intact. The thought made her shiver in fright.
Dear Tanjiro,
Today, I learned to become one with lightning.
…
I didn’t like it…
“Are you afraid of heights?”
Nezuko paused her sword swinging and stared at the old man, confused when he asked this one day. “No? I mean, I’ve climbed trees before—”
“Good enough. Follow me.”
Nezuko did, and the two of them ended up in a much more spacious area with non-flowering trees scattered throughout.
Kuwajima gestured to them. “Pick one.”
Nezuko stared at the old man questionably. “What?”
“A tree. Pick one and climb.”
“Okay…” Nezuko wandered around a bit, and then found a sturdy-looking tree with enough low branches for an easy climb. She turned back to Kuwajima and pointed. “Is this one okay?”
He nodded, stroking his chin and chuckling. “Yeah, that’s a good one. I think that was my favorite back in the day.”
Okay, this is getting a little weird.
Still, against her better judgment, Nezuko carefully grabbed onto the branches and hauled herself up until she found a good spot to sit in the strong arms of the tree. “So now what?”
“We wait.” Kuwajima looked up at the sky, staring at a few clouds that were turning gray above them.
“For what?”
“Nature.”
Fifteen Minutes Later…
“I HATE NATURE!”
A full-blown storm blew through the area, rocking the tree Nezuko was now gripping for dear life. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, the distorted light bolts appearing as though they were VERY close to hitting her.
A bolt did almost hit the tree and she screamed, her body becoming numb and cold from raindrops pelting at her drenched figure. The wind was blowing more of the icy daggers at her and shaking her so badly she was sure that her body would have flown off the branch had it not been for her fingers digging into the rough yet slick bark of the tree.
She didn’t care that she sounded like a little kid and was clinging to her tree like a drowned cat that got stuck. Nezuko was fairly certain she was going to die if she stayed outside any longer.
Her mentor didn’t seem to care at all.
“It’s just a little rain!” Kuwajima called from below, ignoring that he was getting soaked to the bone and that his hair and kimono were plastered to his body. “Come on, I honestly should have done this in your first week of training. This is your chance to scream at the sky and show nature you’re not afraid of it! This is supposed to be fun!”
“THIS IS FUN?!”
“Not with that attitude!”
It wasn’t fun.
She wanted to go down now.
Another boom, and Nezuko clung tighter as the branch shook more violently with the wind. She REALLY wanted to quit.
But Nezuko wasn’t going to when she had made it this far already.
For Tanjiro…For Tanjiro…For Tanjiro…
DO IT FOR YOUR BIG BROTHER!
“I’M DOING THIS FOR YOU, TANJIRO!” Nezuko bellowed at the thunderstorm. She raised herself up a little and screamed at the force of nature. “YOU HEAR ME? I’M NOT AFRAID OF A LITTLE STORM!”
Against her better judgment, Nezuko stood up and roared at the gray abyss above her.
“I AM LIGHTNING!!!!”
BOOM!!!
Nezuko screamed and lost her balance as a lightning bolt struck the ground inches in front of her face. She fell out of the tree and landed hard (She was very grateful that she had learned how to fall without it hurting too badly at this point, but still).
“Wow, that was pretty close,” Nezuko heard Kuwajima muse over the rain (she couldn’t tell if his tone was serious or not). “We should probably head back now before it gets worse.”
It gets worse?!
They did this every time it stormed.
The laps had increased to twenty in the morning and twenty at night.
Tree climbing and sitting through entire storms was now included in training.
Getting thrown over an old man’s shoulder and practicing drawing and sheathing a sword until it could be done in less than half a second became a daily task.
Nezuko’s new normal was not what she was expecting, and still there were surprises for her.
Nezuko ran her laps, the added weight of her sword making each step feel like a Herculean task. She tripped over branches, nearly got strangled by vines, and found herself tangled in more traps than she cared to count.
“Oh joy, more tripping hazards,” she muttered sarcastically, trying to avoid yet another rope trap.
Her muscles ached, her lungs burned, and her mind was constantly filled with the fear of failing. But she pressed on, her determination driving her forward.
“I wonder if other slayers had to deal with this madness,” she grumbled one day, as she climbed up a tree in the middle of a storm. “Or is it just my luck?”
Master Kuwajima, standing below in the pouring rain, simply yelled, “Embrace the chaos, Nezuko! It’s good for the soul!”
Nezuko rolled her eyes but complied, shouting back, “You must have a very interesting definition of ‘good for the soul,’ Master.”
Regardless, she pushed on, not sure if she’ll even manage to retain her sanity when she finished.
Dear Tanjiro,
Today I went into town to help Mr. Kuwajima sell produce.
For some reason, a lady asked about you…
As she became more familiar with her new home, Nezuko was helping out around the orchard more and more. Nothing too strenuous, just tending to some of the soil in the area and making sure the younger trees got plenty of water. As time went on, Master Kuwajima did start teaching Nezuko how to prune the trees and help harvest the peaches that were now filling the branches in place of the delicate flowers.
It was definitely more than the chores she used to do at the Kamado household, but it was helping her maintain her newfound strength and keep herself busy when she wasn’t doing small chores in between training. In all honesty, it was a nice break.
Once spring was toward its end and summer around the corner, the girl and older man began bringing the picked peaches into town nearby to sell.
“Oh my goodness! Jigoro, who is this girl?”
Master Kuwajima helped unload one of the many baskets of peaches Nezuko was carrying and addressed the woman who noticed their arrival. “This is Nezuko, my newest ward. She’s been living with me for almost six months now and has been a great deal of help this season.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Nezuko said with a polite bow and smile. “Mr. Kuwajima has been taking great care of me, and I’ve been helping a lot with the orchard these last few months. So I hope you enjoy the peaches.”
The woman stared at Nezuko for a beat before cooing and pressing her hands to her mouth. “Oh, what an absolute sweetheart! Jigoro, where did you find such a polite young girl? Never mind that, tell me about yourself, sweetie!”
Nezuko giggled at the attention as more people came out to greet her master and meet the new girl in town.
The people who lived there were friendly, just like back at home, but they didn’t seem to know anything about Master Kuwajima being a demon slayer cultivator. To them, he was just a friendly old man who was more than happy to share the fruits he grew.
Soon Nezuko found herself in a nice flow of meeting people, catching up on all the gossip they insisted she needed to know, and selling the fresh peaches to anyone who was interested.
The interactions were nice and warmed something in her that she hadn’t felt since leaving home.
It was a bit nostalgic. It was just like home.
Though she didn’t get to ruminate about it for long as Nezuko was currently selling peaches to a few women while Master Kuwajima entertained other townsmen a little further away.
“You must stop by my shop when you have time,” one lady insisted as she inspected the young girl’s dull-colored yukata. “I could make you a beautiful kimono to wear when you go out. A young lady like yourself should be wearing something more your age and size.”
Nezuko smiled as she took the woman’s money. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll think about it. To be honest, I didn’t bring much with me before I came to live with Mr. Kuwajima, so I really appreciate your offer.”
“Oh how polite!” Another lady gushed as the other two whispered their own compliments. Nezuko handed the lady her peaches and turned to an older woman who looked very excited to talk to her.
“I must say, Jigoro is so lucky to have such a kind beauty as you.” The woman handed over her money and returned Nezuko’s beaming smile. “You and your brother are so lucky to have such a caring grandfather.”
Nezuko hummed and was about to hand over the fruit when she froze. Something in her chest tightened, a mix of shock and confusion.
“Wait, how did you—?”
The woman continued speaking over her, taking the offered peaches. “How is he, by the way? It’s been quite a few years since we last saw him.”
…What?
That…couldn’t be right. Master Kuwajima made it very clear that they needed to keep any mention of Tanjiro to a minimum, lest any unwanted attention be brought to their very delicate (and slightly illegal, according to the old man) situation.
But she knows…How does she know?
Are there other people that know?
Oh my gosh, did I overshare something? I don’t think I did. Or, maybe…I don’t know!
How does she know?!
Nezuko couldn’t think. She barely noticed the confusion on the women’s faces and suddenly wished for a way out of this conversation, no matter how rude it would be. She felt her hands shaking and tried not to let her anxiety show too much. “I don’t…I mean, my brother—?”
“Oi, Nezuko! I need your help here and then we can leave!”
Nezuko looked toward the voice and felt herself sag with relief at her master’s gruff command. “Coming!” She turned back to the women and gave them a short bow. “Please excuse me, thank you.”
She took the basket she was using and tried not to make it obvious how quickly she wanted to get away. Thankfully, they finished up relatively fast and left town within the hour.
When they were far enough on the way back to the orchard, Master Kuwajima broke the silence. “They weren’t talking about your brother.”
Nezuko turned to the man in shock. “Huh? Wait how—?”
“I have good hearing. Always had. Surprised you didn’t figure out that was how I was sensing your movements during fall training.”
“That…wow, yeah. I didn’t even realize that. But wait, you sure—?”
“Yes, they were thinking of someone else.”
Nezuko was still puzzled by that, pulling at the basket on her back and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But that lady said he was your grandson. I didn’t know you had kids.”
“I don’t.”
“Oh…then who—?”
Master Kuwajima cut her off a bit more forcefully. “It was probably Kaigaku. I did bring him by sometimes. Caused a hell of a lot of trouble when I did. But don’t worry about it, sometimes the people there get mixed up and just assume you’re all related to me or something. But drop it, it won’t happen again.”
Nezuko didn’t say anything after that, but the entire walk back, Master Kuwajima had a stoic yet angry look on his face that radiated off his aura strongly.
She didn’t make many trips back to town after that.
“Hana, don’t you remember? Jigoro said the boy was only staying with him for a short time before going back to live with his family.”
“Oh, that’s right! The poor girl must have been so confused.”
“Jigoro grew really attached to him. And he asked that we don’t bring him up too much. It must be painful to talk about, so we need to keep that in mind.”
“Poor boy, he left so suddenly too. I hope he’s doing okay.”
Nezuko’s laps went up to thirty in the morning and at night.
When she was told this, surprisingly, she didn’t care.
Dear Tanjiro,
Please wake up.
I miss you…
The brush hovered inches above the paper, but no strokes were made.
For once, the words wouldn’t come to her.
Nezuko chanced a look behind her, but her brother lay still on his futon, essentially comatose and dead to the world around him.
Nothing had changed for the past six months. He hadn’t moved, spoken, or given any sign that he was ever going to wake up. Even when she expressed these concerns to Master Kuwajima, who in turn had a doctor come in and examine Tanjiro, nothing was found to be wrong with him.
Tanjiro was just…sleeping.
And yet, no matter how many times she told herself that, was told that by her mentor and a medical professional, Nezuko couldn’t stop the slew of intrusive thoughts that would swarm her mind like a hornet’s nest.
What if he stays like this forever?
What if the next time he wakes up, he doesn’t remember who you are?
What if he dies in his sleep?
What if he dies without you there with him?
The ink brush was set down harshly, and the journal was slammed shut.
Don’t think like that. Now’s not the time for that.
Nezuko took a deep breath, held it, and slowly released it, focusing on the feeling of the wooden desk, the perpetual ache in her legs from training, the loose strands of hair tickling the back of her neck and face from her hunched posture.
She couldn’t fall apart. Not yet, when she could feel how much closer she was to her goal than when she first started.
I can do this.
For Tanjiro.
That night, she fell asleep on Tanjiro’s futon, curled up against his side and gripping his shoulder tightly.
In the days following, Nezuko stopped writing in her journal.
Fifty laps in the morning. Fifty laps at night.
It was the hardest level of training she was currently doing.
But now Nezuko was faster and more agile than when she first ran through the canopy. Her breathing had gotten more controlled, and her sword was no longer a hindrance to her.
She no longer triggered the pitfalls, her steps light and quick enough that the ground never had an opportunity to collapse under her weight. She learned to rely on her sense of hearing more, avoiding branches and rocks that would fall from the trees above signaled only by the slightest noise. She learned to be quick when using her extra sense on the trees and ground as she dodged and rolled to avoid obstacles, learning where they were moments before they activated or she tripped them.
Not even the new traps could stop her. Barrages of knives coming from the side, swinging boards of spikes threatening to take her head out, and boulders as large as her impeded her progress.
She adapted and rolled with the punches as they came. If they knocked her down, she barely wasted a second swiftly coming back to her feet. If they threw something at her she couldn’t dodge, she would use her sword to deflect the blows. If she got tired, she focused on different pain or drew her attention to the next potential trap.
She didn’t quit.
Nezuko would succeed, and nothing would stop her.
Except for one final test.
“You’re done.”
“...What?”
Exactly one year after Nezuko had stayed in the orchard, Master Kuwajima told Nezuko that he had nothing left to teach her.
She couldn’t help but gape at the old man, finding it difficult to digest what he said so nonchalantly.
Because, that’s it? Did…She did it?
“Does that mean I’m ready for Final Selection?” Nezuko asked, a bit of hope filling her chest. It was unfortunately dashed when the old man chuckled and gestured for her to follow him.
(The whole way, she prayed that he wouldn’t stick her in another tree.)
The two ended up walking a lot farther than they normally did for training, all the while the sky began turning an ominous smokey gray. Nezuko felt her heart sink a bit, knowing by now that they were heading into another storm.
(And yeah, she’d gotten used to training in those now, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed them, okay!)
They arrived at an open field, devoid of any trees save for a few black, withered, and bare trunks. In fact, there was hardly any grass, just a large expanse of plain dirt land peppered with what looked like scorch marks on the ground.
“A single strike of lightning is faster than nearly any living being on Earth,” Master Kuwajima said. “Though with the supernatural abilities they have, demons may even surpass this speed under the right conditions. Any student of thunder breathing must be practiced in not only conquering lightning but becoming like lightning itself.”
But didn’t I already do that in training? Nezuko thought, thinking back to climbing the tree during a thunderstorm. She almost said it out loud, but Master Kuwajima spoke over her.
“For your final test, I want you to deflect a lightning bolt.”
…
…
…
In all honesty, Nezuko expected herself to have a bigger reaction, but after everything she went through in the past year…yeah, this was pretty ridiculous, but not something she was particularly surprised by.
Heck, she was more surprised by what she said in response.
“...I think I’ll die if I try to do that.”
Master Kuwajima shrugged, answering without missing a beat. “Eh, no one’s died from doing this yet. I’d say there’s at least a forty percent chance you might end up with a couple of problems if you get struck and can’t deflect the lightning bolt successfully.”
Nezuko stared at the older man incredulously. “Seriously?”
Again, another nonchalant shrug. “Honestly, nearly every swordsman that’s practiced in thunder breathing has at least a few screws loose.” Master Kuwajima chuckled and nudged her a bit. “Consider it a rite of passage. Besides, what’s a little heart failure and abnormal twitching really gonna do to you? I’d say it adds a little personality.”
Nezuko didn’t even know what to say to that. She turned back toward the withered field, hearing the foreboding rumbling and watching as the clouds cast haunting shadows across the plot of land.
This was definitely going to be difficult.
“Go on!” Master Kuwajima pushed Nezuko forward into a slight stumble. “Give it a try. Deflect one lightning bolt, and I’ll let you enter Final Selection. Easy as that!”
Okay…yeah, that didn’t sound easy, but it was the motivation she needed.
Nezuko drew her sword and walked further into the field. Her eyes flickered around her surroundings, doing her best to sense the telltale change in the atmosphere. It was harder to do since the strike would come from above, and she would have a split second to react.
So she waited…
And waited…
And waited…
And—
BOOM!!!
Nezuko attempted to swing her sword, but the strike was right in front of her, and she propelled herself backward with a shout of surprise. She lay there for a moment, staring at the new scorch mark on the ground, trembling as though she had been electrocuted.
Oh my gosh, I’m way over my head.
Wait, why am I even thinking about it?
“Oi, are you alright?”
Nezuko took a moment to breathe and shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “Y-Yeah, just got startled.”
“Okay, then get back up! Try again!”
“Yes, sir!”
And she did. But she never made contact.
True to his word, Kuwajima didn’t teach Nezuko anything else. All that was left for her was to conquer the impossible task.
She kept going back to the withered field, but every trip ended in failure (and her gaining a bit more ringing in her ears). No matter how hard she tried, she was never fast enough to strike the elusive bolts, and it was beginning to feel like an impossible task.
Because who in their right mind would want to hit a lightning bolt?
Who in their right mind thinks they can hit a lightning bolt?
She tried asking her master about it, but he wouldn’t tell her how. Sometimes he would give her advice on training, but never on the all-important task.
Every time, he would answer the exact same way: “You have to think about what you’ve learned and apply it to your forms. Once you see how, everything falls into place and you’ll accomplish a great deal more than deflecting a lightning bolt.”
It wasn't as helpful as it sounded.
So all Nezuko could do was continue her training. She continued running her laps every day, dodging traps and putting her time with her master to use. She continued with her muscle strengthening exercises so all of the hard work she put into her body didn’t go to waste. She continued working on her sword and breathing forms so she would be ready to deflect the final obstacle in her way.
She continued practicing everything she knew.
But despite all of that, she remained stuck in place.
Another six months had passed, and Nezuko was getting desperate.
She only had another six months before the deadline for Final Selection. If she didn’t get in, Tanjiro was going to lose his head. And Nezuko refused to let that happen.
And yet, nothing she did was working.
She made zero progress in figuring out how to deflect a lightning bolt, and now because of that, she was going to fail.
A year and a half of training under her belt, and because of one stupid lightning bolt she couldn’t hit, Tanjiro’s life was in the hands of a man who had no qualms about ending it.
It’s just so unfair.
It’s so unfair…
It’s so—
“AUUUUUGH!”
Nezuko screamed into the rumbling clouds above, all of her anger and frustrations pouring out until her voice felt raw and hurt nearly as bad as it did when she had been choked by her brother.
“How am I supposed to do this?!” Nezuko stabbed her sword into the dry soil and paced around with her arms folded over her head. “Who’s even heard of deflecting a lightning bolt before? It’s impossible!”
The sky boomed with another strike, and that only made Nezuko even more mad. It got to the point that she found herself turning to the gray heavens and yelling with her arms spread wide.
“Show me! Show me one person who managed to do this! Please just give me something to work with here!”
There was no response. Nezuko groaned and decided that she was being ridiculous and probably needed to head home for a meal and rest before the exhaustion made her act any more crazy. She grabbed her sword and walked back toward the house, taking one last look around at the empty field and ignoring the boy that was standing farther from her, turning her back and leaving to—
Wait, a boy?
Nezuko paused midstep and looked back. She blinked several times and even walked a little closer, but she was right.
There was a boy standing in the field, dressed in yellow and holding a sword.
Where did he come from?
She didn’t get the chance to ponder this because in one fluid motion that seemed too perfect to be natural, the boy moved into a stance that Nezuko recognized as a Thunder Breathing position. Something in his posture changed, and then a flash of lightning followed by a boom overtook her senses.
In that split second, she saw something in the lightning strike shift and it changed directions!
But she didn’t have time to relish that because it took her a moment too late to realize that the lightning was redirected towards her.
…Oh, this is going to—
“NOOOOOOOO!”
There was a flash of yellow and the light scattered, sounding as though a thousand voices were screaming. Nezuko fell back in a cry of surprise, closing her eyes and covering her ears. All of her senses felt like they had gone into overdrive, and everything was too much. It was worse than any training she went through up until that point.
Is this what it's like to actually deflect a lightning bolt? Man, it sucks.
Thankfully, the ringing and spots in her eyes slowly began to wane, and as Nezuko carefully opened her eyes, she could make out a figure kneeling right before her.
“-don’t be dead please don’t be dead please don’t be—”
“Uh…I’m not?”
There was a squeak and then a face overflowing with tears was inches from her. “OH THANK GOD I DIDN’T KILL YOU!”
Nezuko yelped and scrambled back. The boy did exactly the same thing, and the two were left staring at each other.
Nezuko couldn’t help but find his appearance a bit strange. His hair was a tad choppy and an unusual shade of yellow that faded to orange at the tips. It reminded her of the dandelions that she would sometimes find at her old home. He was also wearing a vibrant yellow yukata with white triangle patterns that looked like a much nicer version of hers.
In fact, it looked much like—
“You need to be more careful.”
Nezuko startled at the boy’s words. “Huh?”
He pointed a shaking finger at her, his honey brown eyes wide and teary still. “Y-You can’t just wander around here having no idea what you’re doing. You’ll get struck by lightning and it’ll ruin your life! Look what it did to me!”
Nezuko quickly scanned the boy, but other than the odd hair color, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “You seem fine.”
The boy's expression morphed into one of shock and disbelief, but the tears returned tenfold.
“Oh my God, Gramps, what are you thinking?!” the boy wailed, pulling at his long hair. “Sending this sweet girl into danger? How can you do this to her? And after what happened to us too? You must be crazy! Insane! This is too cruel—”
“Hey calm down, I chose to do this!” Nezuko tried to interrupt the strange boy’s sobbing. “Are you talking about Mr. Kuwajima? He sent me here as a final test and I’ve been trying for ages to try and deflect a lightning bolt. B-But you did it just now, didn’t you?”
The crying stopped and the boy whipped his head back toward Nezuko. “Wait, you saw that?” His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, reminding Nezuko of a baby rabbit. “Like, you saw what I was doing? With your own two eyes?”
“Of course I did, I’m not blind,” Nezuko huffed. “You were using one of Master’s breathing techniques.”
“But you…How did you…I’m…” the boy trailed off, his gaze drifting to his hands and something blank settling over his face. The only evidence of the crying episode were the damp tear tracks on his slightly puffy cheeks.
Worry prickled at Nezuko’s skin, something in the atmosphere between them feeling much more wrong than it did moments earlier.
Did he just…shut down?
Nezuko began to reach for his arm, thinking he needed to be shaken awake, but clarity snapped back into his expression and he zoned in on the girl. She took her hand back, and the two found themselves staring at each other again, only this time it felt more awkward and out of place.
Might as well ask. Who else can I get help from?
“Can you…show me how to deflect a lightning bolt?” Nezuko asked. She knew it was a risk; a crazy one where she was asking a complete stranger who (sort of) almost killed her. But in retrospect, Nezuko only made it this far, trusting strangers and their kindness. It gave her the chance to spare her brother and opportunities for training. Now she just needed one more push.
And this very well may be her last chance to qualify for Final Selection before it was too late. And she was willing to bet it on this stranger’s trust.
The boy’s eyes widened and he looked very close to spiraling into another crying session. “Why me? I’m…I’m not worth it.”
“Yes you are!” Nezuko exclaimed. The boy nearly leapt back at her words, but she kept going. “I saw what you just did, and it was amazing! I still can’t figure out most of the forms and I have to pass this test. If I don’t, someone I love will get hurt and I can’t let them down, not after everything I’ve been through to get here. Please, help me!”
The boy went silent, something slipping into his face again that made Nezuko worry that he was going to space out again. But he lowered his head and concealed his expression with his long hair so she couldn’t see his eyes.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, daring to look up at her.
Nezuko nodded. “Definitely.”
The boy peeked up, his eyes looking as though they were searching for something in her before they flickered away and a soft pink blush dusted his cheeks.
Cute.
Why was that the first thought that came to her head?
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
Nezuko couldn’t help the smile and the little sound of excitement she made. Then she remembered that she had indeed forgotten to introduce herself. “I’m Nezuko Kamado. Thanks for agreeing to help! What’s your name?”
The boy’s nervous energy softened, and he looked up at her, smiling for the first time since they met.
“I’m… My name is Zenitsu Agatsuma.”