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My life in the Demon Slayer

Capítulo 1: Reincarnation

A sharp pain. That was the first sensation that greeted Fujitora as he opened his eyes. It wasn't the searing agony of being hit by a truck, the memory of which was still vivid in his mind. This was different, a dull throbbing in his head and a coldness seeping into his bones. He was lying on something soft, snow perhaps? As his vision cleared, he saw a sight that made his heart clench.

A young boy, no older than twelve, with burgundy hair, was desperately trying to drag a limp figure through the snow. The figure was smaller, a young girl with the same hair color, her face deathly pale. Fujitora knew, with a chilling certainty, that she was dead.

"Nezuko..." the boy sobbed, his voice hoarse and broken. "Please, Nezuko..."

Fujitora knew that name. Knew that face. It was Tanjiro Kamado, the protagonist of Demon Slayer, the anime he had been binge-watching before his untimely demise. He had been reincarnated, thrust into the world of demons and swordsmen, at the worst possible moment.

Memories of the show flooded back, disjointed and incomplete. He remembered the tragic fate of Tanjiro's family, the demon who slaughtered them, Nezuko's transformation. He knew the path that lay ahead, the trials Tanjiro would face, the friends he would make, the enemies he would fight.

Fujitora stumbled to his feet, his legs unsteady. He had to do something. He couldn't just stand by and watch this tragedy unfold again.

"Hey!" he called out, his voice cracking with disuse.

Tanjiro looked up, his eyes wide with a mixture of hope and fear. "Who's there?"

Fujitora approached cautiously, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "My name is Fujitora," he said, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible. "I... I saw what happened. I'm so sorry."

Tanjiro stared at him, his expression unreadable. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I don't know how I got here," Fujitora admitted, "but I want to help."

Tanjiro shook his head, his eyes filled with a grief that mirrored Fujitora's own. "It's too late," he whispered, clutching Nezuko's body closer. "She's..."

Before he could finish the sentence, a figure emerged from the shadows of the forest. Tall and imposing, with piercing eyes and a stern expression, he carried himself with an air of authority. Giyu Tomioka, the Water Hashira, had arrived.

Fujitora's mind raced. He remembered Giyu's initial hostility towards Tanjiro, his intent to kill Nezuko. He had to tread carefully.

Giyu unsheathed his katana, the blade gleaming menacingly in the fading light. "Step away from the demon, boy," he commanded, his voice cold and sharp.

"No!" Tanjiro cried, shielding Nezuko with his body. "She's my sister! She wouldn't hurt anyone!"

Giyu's eyes narrowed. "All demons are the same," he said, his grip on his sword tightening. "They crave human flesh. They must be exterminated."

Fujitora knew he had to intervene. He stepped forward, placing himself between Giyu and Tanjiro.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice trembling slightly. "There has to be another way."

Giyu turned his gaze on Fujitora, his expression unreadable. "And who are you to interfere?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

Fujitora hesitated. He didn't have an answer. He was just a boy, thrust into a world he barely understood, desperate to prevent a tragedy he knew was about to unfold.

"I... I just want to help," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

Giyu snorted. "This is none of your concern," he said coldly. "Step aside."

But Fujitora stood his ground, his resolve hardening. He couldn't let Giyu kill Nezuko. He wouldn't.

"No," he said, his voice gaining strength. "I won't let you hurt them."

The air crackled with tension. Giyu's hand tightened around his sword, his eyes boring into Fujitora's. The fate of Tanjiro and Nezuko hung in the balance.

Giyu stared at Fujitora for a moment, his gaze unwavering. The air crackled with tension, the only sound the soft sobs escaping Tanjiro's lips as he clutched Nezuko close. Then, to Fujitora's surprise, a flicker of something akin to amusement crossed Giyu's face.

"You would stand against a Hashira?" Giyu asked, his voice devoid of mockery but laced with a different kind of intensity. "You, who cannot even hold a sword?"

Fujitora's hand instinctively moved to his side, finding only empty air. He had no weapon, no training, only the fragmented knowledge gleaned from an anime he had watched in another life. But something inside him, a spark of defiance ignited by the injustice of the situation, refused to back down.

"They haven't done anything wrong," Fujitora said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his heart. "You can't just… kill them."

Giyu raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over Fujitora with an intensity that made him feel strangely exposed. "And what would you have me do?" Giyu asked, his voice deceptively calm. "Let the demon go free? Risk it attacking other humans?"

"She wouldn't!" Tanjiro cried out, his voice raw with despair. "Nezuko wouldn't hurt anyone! She's different!"

Giyu's gaze shifted to Tanjiro, his expression softening slightly. "You are young," he said, his voice gentler than before. "You do not understand the true nature of demons. They are creatures of darkness, driven by a hunger they cannot control."

"But she hasn't hurt anyone!" Fujitora insisted, his voice rising in desperation. He knew the story, knew that Nezuko was different, but he had no way to prove it. "She's been protecting her brother, not attacking anyone!"

Giyu sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He seemed to hesitate, his gaze flickering between Fujitora and the huddled figures of Tanjiro and Nezuko. Finally, he sheathed his sword with a soft click that echoed in the silence.

"Very well," Giyu said, his voice regaining its earlier formality. "I will give you the benefit of the doubt, for now."

Fujitora let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, relief washing over him. He had bought them some time, but he knew this was far from over.

Giyu turned his attention to Tanjiro, his expression serious. "Take your sister and see the man my crow has marked," he instructed, pulling a small, tied scroll from his sleeve. "He is a former Demon Slayer, he will know what to do."

Tanjiro stared at him, his eyes wide with a mixture of hope and disbelief. "You… you won't kill Nezuko?"

Giyu shook his head. "Not if she remains as she is," he said, his gaze hardening. "But if she harms a human, even in the slightest, I will not hesitate to strike her down."

Tanjiro nodded quickly, clutching the scroll as if it were a lifeline. He bowed deeply to Giyu, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you," he choked out. "Thank you so much."

Giyu simply nodded, his gaze lingering on Tanjiro and Nezuko for a moment before he turned to Fujitora.

"You," he said, his voice sharp. "Come with me."

Confusion washed over Fujitora. "Me?" he asked, pointing at himself with a shaky finger. Giyu didn't repeat himself, merely gesturing with his head towards the path leading deeper into the forest. Tanjiro, clutching Nezuko close, offered a small, grateful smile in Fujitora's direction before following a different trail, the one indicated by Giyu's crow.

With a hesitant nod towards Tanjiro, Fujitora fell into step behind the Water Hashira. The path was quiet, the only sounds the crunch of snow underfoot and the distant caw of the crow leading Tanjiro and Nezuko. Fujitora snuck glances at Giyu's back, trying to decipher the man's intentions. He remembered Giyu as a stoic, often harsh character, but also a deeply principled and ultimately compassionate one. Still, the uncertainty gnawed at him.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Fujitora spoke. "Why?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Why bring me along?"

Giyu didn't slow his pace, but his answer, though quiet, was firm. "You interfered," he stated simply.

"But... I just wanted to help," Fujitora protested, his voice gaining a bit of its earlier desperation. "I couldn't let you kill them."

Giyu stopped abruptly, turning to face Fujitora. His gaze was intense, piercing through Fujitora like a blade. "You knew," he stated, not a question but an accusation.

Fujitora froze. He couldn't lie, not with that gaze upon him. "I... I might have seen something similar before," he mumbled, trying to avoid the weight of Giyu's stare.

A tense silence stretched between them. Then, to Fujitora's surprise, Giyu let out a short, humorless laugh. "You are a strange one," he said, shaking his head slightly. "But there is a sincerity in you that I cannot ignore."

He turned, resuming their trek through the snow-laden forest. "You wish to help, then prove it," he said, his voice echoing in the quiet woods. "Show me you are not just a boy playing hero with matters beyond his understanding."

Fujitora's heart pounded in his chest. This was it. His chance to become a part of this world, to fight alongside Tanjiro, to maybe even change the tragic fate he knew awaited so many. But he had no training, no powers, nothing but a burning desire to help and the fragmented knowledge of a world that was now his reality.

"I will," Fujitora declared, his voice filled with a newfound determination. "Just tell me what I need to do."

Giyu didn't reply immediately, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. They walked in silence for what felt like hours, the forest growing denser, the air colder. Finally, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees, Giyu stopped before a small, secluded cabin. Smoke curled from its chimney, a beacon of warmth in the growing darkness.

"This is where I train," Giyu said, his voice devoid of emotion. "If you are serious about proving yourself, then survive the night."

He pushed open the door, gesturing for Fujitora to enter. As Fujitora stepped inside, the weight of the unknown pressed down on him. He had taken his first step into the world of Demon Slayer, but what trials awaited him in this strange, new life?