Chapter 11: Demon
A hundred years later, Akira would often recall this very day. Again and again, he would ask himself: If I had another chance, would I make the same choice?
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"The location that the Kasugai Crow mentioned should be around here, right?"
Two young Demon Slayer Corps members walked cautiously through a dense forest, swords at their sides.
"Yeah, based on the crow's intel, a demon was spotted in this area. Stay sharp."
The two scanned the area vigilantly. Suddenly, rustling came from the bushes not far ahead.
They exchanged glances and quietly approached the source of the noise.
As they got closer, they heard a low, guttural growl…
"Hrgh…"
It sounded like a wild beast—followed by the sickening crunch of bones being chewed.
One of the slayers carefully parted the brush, and what they saw froze them in place.
A grotesque demon crouched over a mangled corpse, gnawing hungrily. It looked up as if sensing their presence, meat still lodged between its teeth, blood coating its face. The second it locked eyes with them, it tensed, baring its fangs like a cornered predator.
"Demon!"
"Wind Breathing, Second Form: Claw-Purifying Wind!"
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
The two slayers attacked in perfect coordination, striking from both sides. The demon barely had time to react before its head was severed cleanly.
Its body slumped to the ground with a heavy thud, the twisted snarl still frozen on its face.
They sheathed their blades, faces grim as they stared at the corpse that had been chewed beyond recognition.
"We were too late."
Then, one of them noticed something that made his eyes go wide.
"He was… one of us. A fellow Demon Slayer."
"What?!"
His companion clenched his fists, rage and guilt welling in his chest.
They picked up a shattered Nichirin Blade—clearly the fallen slayer's weapon. He must have fought desperately, but in the end, he was outmatched… and devoured.
"If only we'd arrived sooner…"
The Water Breathing user lowered his head, blaming himself.
His companion rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't dwell on it. At least we avenged him—and stopped this thing from killing anyone else."
The words offered some comfort. The Water user gave a faint nod, though his eyes still held sorrow.
But then he glanced down at the demon's corpse… and his expression changed.
"Wait... why hasn't the demon's body turned to ash?"
"Huh?"
His companion turned, alarmed. He was right.
Normally, a demon's body begins to disintegrate seconds after decapitation. But this one—though clearly dead—remained intact.
The severed head had rolled to the Water user's feet.
He stared at it, uneasy.
For a brief moment, he thought he saw something strange in the demon's lifeless eyes—an eerie glimmer of amusement… mockery.
"Slash!"
Startled, the slayer instinctively drew his blade and swung down at the head once more.
But then—something impossible happened.
The instant his blade touched the demon's head, a cacophony of caws exploded around them.
The demon's body dissolved—not into ash, but into a swirling mass of black feathers.
Countless crows burst into the sky, flapping their wings wildly.
Both slayers stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief.
"What… what is this?" the Water user whispered, dread creeping into his voice.
No answer came. Only the echoing cries of the crows, now circling ominously overhead.
They didn't fly away. Instead, they began to gather on a branch above, as if pulled by some unseen force.
And then, as the crows converged, something began to take shape among them.
A figure.
A tall, slender silhouette emerged, standing proud like a pine in the storm. Crimson hair cascaded behind like a bloody waterfall, swaying in the wind. Her eyes—bright scarlet, laced with cryptic patterns—glowed with a haunting allure. One glance was enough to make your soul tremble.
"Only two weaklings?" she muttered coldly, her voice soft but mocking.
Akira looked down at them from above, disinterested. "Tch. Of course, this little ruckus wouldn't draw out a Hashira."
"The demon… it's been reborn!"
The two slayers stared at Akira, stunned by her transformation.
Akira narrowed her eyes. "Wind Breathing. Water Breathing. Not even Thunder Breathing? Hmph. Guess I'll deal with you first."
Her eyes locked onto the Wind Breathing swordsman.
And then—he froze.
Something in her gaze rooted him in place, as if his body had become a puppet.
He reached for his blade without meaning to. His hands moved on their own.
"Watch out!" he cried, his voice filled with terror. "I can't control my body!"
His blade slashed through the air—toward his own partner.
The Water user barely had time to react. The blade came down—
And severed his arm.
"AHHH!"
He screamed in agony, blood spurting into the air.
"I'm not in control!" the Wind user shouted again, his limbs moving like marionette strings.
His partner struggled to stand, clutching the stump where his arm had been, but then—his body froze too.
"SWISH!"
The blade struck again—this time slicing into his neck.
The Wind Breathing user stared in horror as his friend collapsed.
He dropped his sword, trembling. "What… what did I just do?!"
He turned his head slowly, eyes burning with tears. "What… did you do to me?!"
Akira smirked, her voice like poison. "How does it feel to kill your own friend?"
"Don't blame me," she said coldly. "You chose to become a Demon Slayer."
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To be continued...