As the two boys made their way through the trenches, something alerted the two. A clanking sound. A British tank, there was no mistaking it. A lone wounded Austro-Hungarian soldier crawls in the now-Japanese trench, oblivious to the tank overhead. Until it was too late. The screams of the soldier, "Du da drüben! Bitte! Rette mich vor dieser Sache! Bitte! Bitte!" Tanjiro and Zenitsu stood there, not knowing what to do, but they were too late.
The tank had already rolled into the trench, crushing the soldier in a gory show, blood all over the tank, as the head down to the torso was just mashed organs and bloodied bone, adding to the trauma inflicted on the young Demon Slayers. Tanjiro immediately looks away, trying his very best to keep his lunch (or lack thereof) down. But the Germans were not done, oh no. The gas alarm rings, as his battalion's commanding officer yells
"ガスマスクをつけて!" (GAS MASKS ON!) Everyone puts on the gas masks, as the yellowish gas passes through the Trenches and foxholes. Most of the people who were too slow to put on the masks, instantly passed out or died after warts as big as an ingrown toenail appeared on their bodies. All Tanjiro could see is yellow, SO MUCH YELLOW ALL THAT'S THERE IS JUST YELLOW, and then, one of the soldiers starts coughing, spitting blood and clumps of flesh. His lungs.
"He's coughing out his fucking lungs!" Zenitsu yells, being the first one to notice, as boils and bumps and burns form on the soldier. Eventually, the man dies; choking on his own blood and clumps of lung.
"Jesus Christ.." Tanjiro breathes out, as he finally realizes what this war truly was. It was no adventure. It was a hellscape. A living nightmare. All of the screams of agony, blood, bullets, shelling.
But then, Tanjiro feels something sharp pierce through him, as the bayonet wrenches out of his chest. Shortly after, the man who stabbed him was killed by Zenitsu.
'This bloodlust I'm smelling...'
Tanjiro's heart started to beat. Harder, and harder until it was beating against his chest. He began to hallucinate, all while choking in his own blood through his mask. His family. God, he missed them so damn much. If not for that damn Demon King, he probably wouldn't be here, lungs filling with his own blood, slowly but surely choking, coughing up blood from the stab to the chest that filled his mask even more. Tanjiro weakly made his way to a foxhole, past his shell-shocked friend, not even caring what it was for, and slumped over on a pillar, almost.... Happy that; the end had come.
{Tanjiro!}
{Tanjiro!}
{Tanjiro!}
{Tanjiro!}
{Tanjiro. Stop the bleeding.}
[Rengoku.]
{Tanjiro. Tanji. You need to get up.}
[Kanao.]
{Get up. You're not done yet.}
[Nezuko.]
Quickly, Tanjiro inhaled, using the technique Rengoku taught him to close the wound, excruciatingly painful as it was for him; but it worked. Tanjiro's magenta eyes shot open, as he grabs his Nichirin sword and full-on sprints out of the foxhole, ignoring the shot he just took to the shoulder. Right now, all he was focused on was the meaningless carnage that was this "War to end all Wars". Then, everything went CRIMSON, as if a mental glass had broken. Quickly, he blasted past his dumbfounded friend, using Constant Flux once again to run across the now under siege trench, slicing and mercilessly killing each and every foe there. IF THEY DIDN'T SHOW MERCY, WHY THE HELL SHOULD HE?! In a blind gush of vengeance and blood, Tanjiro shoves another soldier down, either an Austro-Hungarian or an Ottoman, he didn't care, and kicked their head in with the force of a raging current. Tanjiro dashes over to another one of those SHIT STAINS, and kicks him down, not even giving the soldier a chance to shoot, and just stomping his head in. A guttural roar escapes Tanjiro's lips, as he flashes over to the dumbasses who weren't running, and decapitates them with a Waterfall Basin in a millisecond, and ripping the third one in two with his sword. Regaining his senses, Zenitsu flashes in front of Tanjiro.
"Tanjiro! What the hell's gotten into you?!"
"Move."
"Look at what you've done!" Zenitsu pleads to his friend, and as if a covering was lifted, Tanjiro looks around, at the carnage he had committed with his own hands. Just enough time for the soldier to run off. All of these gory deaths. All done by him. Tanjiro Kamado. No. No, it couldn't be. He wouldn't ever do that. A quick death. Not a painful one. Nononononono-
Tanjiro grips his head, grabbing tufts of his hair, falling to his knees, quietly saying to himself
"What have I done?" Was his humanity even still intact after what he just did? His mind raced with thoughts that only served to spiral Tanjiro deeper. Tanjiro experienced an emotion that he was no stranger to. One that stuck with him for all these years, even before this God-forsaken war.
Remorse.
Immediately rushing to his friend's aid, Zenitsu quickly tries to console his friend but Tanjiro jerks back.
"Tanjiro! Stop tearing up! Calm yourself. Slow your breathing. You have to press on. You've survived worse than this." Zenitsu says, listening as his distraught friend calmed down.
God, what time was it?
2300 hours? 0100? 2000 hours? How long has him and Tanjiro been in the now-enemy territory? Crap, they needed to get out of there. Now.
"C'mon, Tanjiro!" Zenitsu gestures to follow, as he flashes off, back across No Man's Land to their trench. A couple hours of bloody fighting later, and they were back in the mud filled, rat infested trenches once again, grabbing rations that rats may have eaten before them. Not even bothering to eat the rations that he knew rats and mice already chewed on, Tanjiro instead reads to himself today's logistics.
"30,000 boys expired. *sigh*, what have I gotten myself into?" A still-shaken Tanjiro asks the same question Zenitsu did only a couple hours ago, not even bothering to read the rest, or today's news. Tanjiro lulls his head back and leans back in his seat, feeling nauseous from the constant rumble of the artillery, the only source of "comfort" was the beeping of the Morse code receiver. Wait, Morse code receiver?
"OI, KAMADO!" A booming voice echoes from the receiver, making the person in question jump and fall off of the chair.
"Yes, sir?" Tanjiro answers, rubbing his head.
"Word came in from the comms department. You, and your battalion are gonna be needed in Verdun as backup. Good luck out there. NOW GO! BOOTS ON THE GROUND, KAMADO!"