Friendly Contact
The fat from the rabbit meat sizzled as it dripped onto the flames, releasing an irresistible aroma.
As the scent filled the air, Tanjiro's stomach growled in protest. He had spent the entire day training, and now, hunger gnawed at him. He hadn't eaten a thing.
Back then, his mother would cook warm meals, and the entire family would sit together, laughing and sharing food around the table.
That world was gone.
He thought back to the warmth of his mother's food, but in reality, all he had were the cold rice balls left over from yesterday. He pulled them out of his pack and placed them over the fire, trying to warm them up.
"…Here."
Tanjiro looked up.
Uchiha Lihuo—his traveling companion—had sliced off a piece of the roasted rabbit leg with a kunai and held it out to him.
Embarrassed, Tanjiro quickly waved his hands. "No, I can't take that—really, I'm fine!"
But Lihuo smiled calmly. "We're heading to Mount Sagiri together. That makes us partners, doesn't it?"
"Partners…?" Tanjiro repeated, stunned.
"Yes. Until we reach the mountain, we share the road—and the food." Lihuo took the rice ball from Tanjiro's hand, broke it in half, and handed the rabbit leg to him. He chewed the cold rice ball without complaint.
The rice was dry and crumbly, but Tanjiro couldn't refuse anymore. "Thank you," he said, taking the leg and biting into the savory meat. The fat and warmth instantly brought a sense of comfort.
"Nezuko," he called softly, turning to offer the food to his sister.
But she shook her head.
"She doesn't want any?" Lihuo asked, raising a brow.
Tanjiro nodded. "She... doesn't eat."
Nezuko tugged at the hem of her brother's coat and shook her head again, eyes calm and clear.
Lihuo studied her in silence. Can she really live without eating? Do demons survive solely on human flesh? Why do they even need to eat humans...?
He bit into his rabbit meat, his mind clouded with questions.
After dinner, Tanjiro helped Nezuko into the shelter to rest. Lihuo excused himself and headed toward a deserted hut further away from the firelight.
There, he sat cross-legged and began his nightly chakra refinement.
In his world, chakra was life—an energy formed from the combination of spiritual and physical power drawn from the 40 trillion cells within the human body. Nature itself brimmed with chakra—especially around the Sacred Tree, where the great clans once drew power.
But here, in this foreign world, the environment was completely different.
"There's no chakra in the air," he muttered to himself. "The natural energy is so faint it's nearly nonexistent. Without the Sacred Tree, there was no catalyst for chakra to spread... no shinobi. Only samurai ruled."
Even the Sage techniques passed down from the three Great Summoning Realms—Mount Myōboku, Ryūchi Cave, and Shikkotsu Forest—would be all but impossible to learn here. In the shinobi world, bloodline clans and chakra had shaped the very structure of power for centuries. Without them, history itself might have turned out very differently.
He looked down at his palm, where a faint swirl of chakra formed.
"The conversion rate from natural energy is terrible," he noted. "Even extracting from my own body is more efficient."
He narrowed his eyes. "I'll have to be cautious with the Sharingan. And I can't risk using the Fireball Jutsu recklessly—not with how much chakra both require."
After gathering enough chakra, Lihuo moved outside to practice the Three Sacred Techniques—Clone, Body Flicker, and Substitution. Against humans unfamiliar with chakra, even these basic techniques could be overwhelming.
---
By dawn, the sky was still shrouded in pre-dawn blue when Tanjiro rose. He carefully secured Nezuko in her box and began preparing breakfast.
"Mr. Lihuo," he called gently, waking the shinobi. "Breakfast is ready."
It was simple: leftover rabbit meat and freshly cooked rice porridge.
After they ate, the two packed their belongings and began their journey toward the nearest town to restock supplies before heading to Mount Sagiri.
"Is Sagiri Mountain far?" Lihuo asked during the walk.
"A few days from here, Mr. Lihuo," Tanjiro replied, brushing his fingers against the scar on his forehead.
Lihuo silently frowned. If I remember correctly, there's supposed to be a weak demon haunting the area near Mount Sagiri these days. We'll have to be careful.
---
Several days later, under the cover of night, they finally reached the vicinity of Mount Sagiri. They decided to ask the locals about Sakonji Urokodaki at dawn.
Ahead of them stood a small, weathered Buddhist temple.
"Finally, somewhere we can rest," Tanjiro said in relief. Traveling mostly at night for Nezuko's sake made shelter hard to come by.
"Quiet," Lihuo warned. "There's something inside."
He stepped forward and pushed open the temple door. It creaked slowly.
Inside, the shadows stretched deep. Cobwebs hung from the rafters. The air was still, filled only with a faint sound of… chewing.
Lihuo's eyes narrowed. A demon sat cross-legged before an offering shrine, feasting.
The demon looked up, noticing them. "Huh? Are you two… demons too?"
It squinted, confused.
In its experience, people traveling at night were usually either fellow demons or easy prey.
Tanjiro froze, wide-eyed. "A... a demon…"
Memories of his slaughtered family rushed back, but this—this was the first time he'd seen one feeding. The sight made his blood run cold.
The demon turned its gaze toward Lihuo. "And you? That trembling brat is your snack?"
It didn't attack immediately. Something about Lihuo's presence made it pause—his cold composure, his unusual eyes...
Lihuo said nothing. Instead, he slowly activated his Sharingan.
The scarlet glow illuminated the dim temple, and the tomoe spun ominously.
The demon's grin faltered.
Those eyes—those eyes weren't human.