When the sun rose, the demon and the human would retreat into a nearby dark cavern to hide.
When the sun set, they would resume their journey.
One human, one demon, walking together under the cover of night.
Two days later, Soma and Kanao arrived once again at the home of Tanjiro Kamado. However, the Kamado family had long since moved away.
What had once been a humble home nestled deep within the mountains—a place where life was difficult yet quietly filled with warmth—now stood empty, hollowed out by absence. In just a few short months, the structure had begun to decay; fallen leaves lay thick across the courtyard, and traces of animals had replaced the signs of human life. What had once been a home had become a refuge for wandering creatures.
Kanao stood beside her uncle at the edge of the fence, silently taking in the sight of the slowly desolate place.
"Uncle… will we stay here during the day?" she asked softly, tilting her head. "If we do, we could dig out a space underground…"
"No," Soma replied, shaking his head.
His gaze lingered on the abandoned house. Even at a young age, Tanjiro had shown remarkable resolve—choosing to move his family in the dead of winter, despite the hardship such a decision entailed. And because of that choice, they had escaped a fate that might otherwise have ended in tragedy.
"Let's keep moving."
The spring breeze carried a faint chill as they walked along the path leading toward the mountain behind the Kamado home. After only a few steps, however, Soma suddenly came to a halt.
His eyes deepened into a vivid crimson, and his throat worked as he swallowed again and again, as though trying to force something down.
Kanao tilted her head, looking up at him in confusion.
Then, in the next instant, he turned toward her.
His eyes were no longer the same.
They burned with hunger—raw, violent, and merciless. There was something feral in them, something cruel and greedy beyond measure. His hand tightened around her wrist without restraint, gripping so hard it felt as though her bones might shatter.
It hurt.
It hurt terribly.
And yet, Kanao only pressed her lips together, blinking quietly as she looked at him.
Whoosh...
A gust of wind passed between them.
As though startled awake, Soma abruptly released her. He turned his gaze away, saying nothing, and began walking forward again in silence.
Kanao hurried after him, her head still slightly tilted as she studied his back.
That overwhelming sense of hunger seemed to seep out from him, heavy and suffocating, weighing down even his steps until they grew uneven and strained. She bit her lip unconsciously.
How long had he been starving?
A fleeting thought crossed her mind—if only he could eat his fill, even if that meant devouring her flesh.
The moment the thought formed, it startled even her.
Soma, too, seemed to snap back to himself, his expression darkening as a heaviness settled deep within him.
They continued on in silence.
Before long, they reached a burial ground. Among the graves stood a newly made one, its stone marked with the name of Tanjuro Kamado—evidence that the family had laid him to rest here before leaving.
Their last meeting felt as though it had happened only yesterday.
Back then, Soma had clearly sensed the man's helplessness and despair, as well as his quiet longing to live. And yet, there had been nothing anyone could do. No matter how strong he had been—perhaps even rivaling the Hashira—he had still been human. And humans, no matter their strength, could not escape death.
Now, in this moment, Soma found himself faintly understanding that same despair.
He, too, was confronting something inevitable.
As he felt the hunger within him growing ever more difficult to restrain, he fell into silence.
"Uncle… are you alright?"
Kanao's voice, soft with concern, broke through his thoughts.
"I'm fine," he replied, forcing a faint smile.
He cast one last glance at Tanjuro's grave before leading her deeper into the mountains. Soon, they arrived at the cave where they had once stayed.
But now, in front of the cave, several newly built graves stood in quiet rows.
Soma led Kanao closer. Each gravestone bore a name—names he was seeing for the first time.
The names of the Demon Slayer swordsmen he had killed.
"Even if the sun falls, the new life shall never end."
"Purge the evil demons."
…
Soma stood before the graves, his gaze resting on the words carved into the stone. Though he had never known these people in life, he could feel it clearly—their unyielding hatred toward demons like him, a hatred that admitted no compromise, no retreat, only a struggle to the death.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Then he turned and led Kanao Tsuyuri into the cave.
The heavy scent of blood that had once filled this place after that brutal battle had long since faded in the passing months, as though it had never existed at all.
By habit, Soma bent to gather dry wood, intending to light a fire—but midway through the motion, he froze. His hand tightened instinctively around the hilt of his Nichirin Sword.
The sunlike power within the sword had grown faint… far too faint.
"Uncle, let me do it."
Seeing him stop, Kanao quickly moved to gather firewood herself.
Soma remained where he stood, his hand pressed firmly against the sword at his waist, his eyes shut tight. The veins at his temples throbbed, standing out sharply, as though something within him was on the verge of breaking free.
At some point, the fire was lit.
Its flickering glow pushed back the darkness of the cave, spreading warmth through the cold air. Kanao had already set a small pot over the flames and begun cooking.
Her movements were clumsy, hesitant—but steady. Step by step, she worked, occasionally glancing back at him, her soft pink-violet eyes lowering slightly each time.
He said nothing.
But she understood everything.
And yet… there was nothing she could do.
Only when the food was ready, its gentle aroma drifting through the cave, did Soma finally open his eyes. The crimson within them had deepened, shadowed now by an unmistakable exhaustion.
"I'm sorry… for making you do everything alone."
He stepped toward the fire, looking at the prepared meal. "Still… even without me, you've learned to manage so well. You've done very well, Kanao."
"Uncle… have a bowl."
She held out a small serving of porridge.
Soma looked at it—but his gaze lingered instead on her delicate hands. The softness of her skin, the warmth beneath it… every detail seemed to radiate an unbearable allure.
"…Alright."
His voice was low as he accepted the bowl and began to eat in silence.
The food did nothing.
It did not ease the hunger clawing at him—not even a little. If anything, it only made the emptiness sharper, more unbearable.
Kanao sat beside him, holding her own bowl, eating in small, quiet bites.
Soma closed his eyes again.
Yet within his mind, there was nothing but her—the fragile line of her throat, the pale softness of her skin, the warm, living blood flowing beneath it.
How easy it would be…
To devour her completely, leaving not even bone behind.
The hunger of a demon for human flesh was growing stronger with each passing moment, slowly eroding what remained of his will.
Just as Akaza had said—no demon could escape this.
No matter how unwilling.
The moment one became a demon, the end was already decided.
No amount of resistance would change it.
After the meal, Kanao resumed her training, practicing until her strength nearly failed her, until even standing became difficult.
In the past, this was the moment when her uncle would step in—gently stopping her, lifting her into his arms, urging her to rest.
But this time… he did not move.
Kanao lifted her head and looked at him.
He still sat there, eyes closed, motionless.
And in that stillness, he felt different—like something terrible lurking just beneath the surface, like a demon on the verge of rising from the abyss itself. An instinctive fear stirred within her chest.
But…
That demon was her uncle.
Biting her lip, she dragged her exhausted body forward, step by step, until she reached his side. She buried her small head against his chest.
"Uncle… hold me."
In the past, he always had.
But this time, only a faint, fragile voice answered her—
"…Stay away from me."
Kanao looked up at him, her lips pressed tight. Yet stubbornly, she reached out again, clinging to his arm.
"Be good."
The quiet words carried a weight she could not resist.
Slowly, reluctantly, she let go.
Because she would never go against his wishes.
Silently, the girl walked to the mouth of the cave. Her pink-violet eyes gazed out toward the field of graves in the distance, as though searching for something beyond them.
And in her heart, she found herself wishing—
that summer would come sooner.
Faster…
just a little faster.