Tanjiro presses his palm to the battered wooden door, breath misting in the cold twilight as shrieks echo from the alley behind him. He shoulders Nezuko’s box higher and calls,
“Open up, please! We’re here to help!”
Zenitsu hovers at his back, knees knocking, clutching his sword. Inosuke, boar mask gleaming in the torchlight, growls,
“Let me smash it down, Tanjiro!”
A child’s sob leaks from inside. Tanjiro’s nose prickles, beyond the wood, fear and blood tangle on the air. He steadies himself, voice gentle but urgent.
“We’re Demon Slayers. We can protect you.”
The door creaks open a crack, revealing a mother’s terrified eyes. From the alley, a shadow ripples, too fast for any human. Tanjiro’s hand finds the hilt of his Nichirin blade. The chill deepens as he steps forward, sensing the demon’s hunger, and shouts,
“Everyone, get inside, now!”
Zenitsu whimpers and Inosuke readies his blades, as Nezuko shifts in her box, alert. The night is cut by a scream, sharp and near. Tanjiro sprints into the darkness, heart pounding, ready to face what waits in the shadowed street.