Amid Kawasaki Nagare's increasingly blurred consciousness, a fragment of memory from the past suddenly emerged, momentarily dulling his hunger for flesh and blood.
"Nagare, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Aoizi cradled a young Nagare in her arms, her voice soft and tender.
"What do I want to be…? I don't want to be anything. I just want to stay with you, Mother. When I grow stronger, I'll protect you and my younger siblings better," Nagare replied.
Aoizi chuckled, covering her mouth gently. "Then I'll wait for you to grow up, Nagare. By then, I'll be getting older, and I'll rely on you to protect me."
Nagare nodded firmly, his childish voice filled with unwavering conviction. "I will. I'll protect everyone!"
Protect everyone...
"I'm sorry," Nagare whispered in his heart. "I failed."
This memory gave Nagare a fleeting moment of clarity. Summoning what little willpower he had left, he reached out to grab the axe that had fallen into the blood-soaked ground.
Gripping the axe tightly, Nagare's expression twisted with ferocity as he swung the iron handle with all his might toward his fangs.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Nagare's fangs, still weaker than iron, shattered under the force of the blow. Shards of his bone-like fangs mixed with a torrent of blood from his mouth, spilling onto the ground.
The nerves connected to his teeth screamed in agony. Though demons shared many traits with humans, the nerves in their fangs were no less sensitive. The pain was excruciating, like his very soul was being torn apart.
But the searing pain momentarily silenced his hunger. Nagare staggered away from Aoizi's lifeless body in panic, but his foot slipped, and he fell onto another blood-soaked corpse.
"Rokuta…"
Nagare forced himself to calm down, even as his mind burned with torment like an unrelenting inferno.
Suppressing the primal hunger clawing at his heart, he stood up and surveyed the room. He saw all his family members, now lifeless.
"Aoizi, Nezuko, Hanako, Takeo, Rokuta, Shigeru…"
"I promised to protect you. I swore to keep you safe."
"But against such a cruel demon, my promises, my determination… they were nothing but a joke."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"
"And Tanjiro… You must still be alive. At least you didn't come home. The only comfort I have left is knowing you're still out there."
As Nagare awoke fully, the unbearable guilt, terror, pain, despair, and rage of it all came crashing down upon him like a relentless tide.
Trapped in a slaughterhouse of blood and bodies, Nagare, now a newborn demon, faced an irresistible temptation. Staying here any longer—even for another minute—would drag him into a bottomless abyss of insatiable hunger.
And his shattered fangs were already regenerating, sharper and more lethal than before. The renewed hunger clawing at his insides was even more intense.
Hot tears mixed with fresh blood fell drop by drop onto the broken wooden floor.
Nagare made a desperate decision.
He had to leave.
In his current state, he couldn't even bury his family, let alone stay near them. The only option was to flee.
"Tanjiro, when you return tomorrow, you'll feel despair and pain just as I do now."
"But no matter what, you must stay strong. I believe in you."
"And please… take care of our family's remains. I can't control myself anymore."
Nagare extended a single clawed finger, etching words into the wall of the cabin with swift, deliberate strokes:
"Tanjiro, don't give in to despair. Live on. Live on, and wait for me to find you."
There was no time to waste. Ignoring his hunger and the overpowering scent of blood, Nagare bolted from the cabin as soon as he finished carving the message.
His face contorted with the anguish of battling his demonic instincts, his expression a grotesque mask of conflict.
Bang!
The door shattered as Nagare burst into the blizzard outside. He didn't look back. He didn't stop. He couldn't. He knew if he paused for even a moment, the ravenous hunger would drag him back, compelling him to consume his family's remains.
Without any clear direction, Nagare sprinted aimlessly into the blinding snow, leaving behind the warmth of the home he had known for sixteen years.
The relentless wind tore through his disheveled red hair as he charged forward. The snow crunched beneath his feet as he ran, the gnawing hunger inside him growing more unbearable with every step.
Time blurred. An hour? A day? He didn't know. Only when the scent of blood faded completely did Nagare finally stop.
He looked around, realizing he was in an unfamiliar wilderness of endless white snow and silent evergreen trees.
And he was utterly alone.
"So hungry…"
Now that the bloodlust had subsided, his rationality returned, but the hunger in his stomach burned like fire.
"My arms… They were shattered to pieces before. My face was crushed. And just now, I shattered my own fangs…"
"But now… I'm completely healed. This body—what a horrifying thing a demon is."
Nagare forced himself to stay calm, despite the agony surging through him. He began piecing together the events that had brought him here.
The memories were soaked in blood, every recollection feeling like salt being poured into his open wounds.
But Nagare knew that avoiding the pain wouldn't solve anything. Only by facing the grim reality head-on could he find his purpose.
"I remember learning once that energy can't be created or destroyed. My body regenerated from severe injuries, and I ran at full speed for who knows how long. It makes sense that I'm starving now—it's all about balance."
Closing his eyes, he tried to banish the images from his mind. But the man in the white hat remained etched in his thoughts, like a brand burned into his soul.
The mere thought of that cold, indifferent man made Nagare grit his teeth, anger flooding his heart.
"I don't know who you are, or where you are."
"But I, Kawasaki Nagare, swear this: I will find you. And I will make you endure every pain imaginable to avenge my family."
Nagare's eyes glimmered with determination.
In his past life, he had been warm, kind, and optimistic—a result of the love and warmth his family had given him.
He had wanted nothing more than to be a gentle big brother to Nezuko and the others, and a dutiful son to Aoizi and Tanjiro.
But now, only Tanjiro remained. And even then, Nagare dared not see him, afraid of the harm he might bring.
The warmth of family was gone, leaving Nagare standing alone in the snow, a broken figure with nowhere to turn.