Chapter 1- Kamado Family

Hi, my name is Kamado Renjiro, and this is the tale of my life, from the lowly, charcoal-selling boy to the unmatched Hashira I was to become. But before we get carried away my journey begins with heartbreak, a heartbreak so strong it propelled me to become the greatest, to save him, my younger brother. 

It was a cold and icy day, the winds blew north and I was wrapped in two kimonos and a fluffy cloak, the basket on my back ladened with coal. The sun was barely visible between the white sheet falling from the sky and I warned my mother not to leave the house. My siblings were up and running, "Rokuta! Don't give Mum trouble and Tanjiro, stop chewing on your haori!"

And with that acknowledgment, I was off, down the mountain, the snow, twisting and turning under the step of my boots. Something was off about the mountain today, I had a keen sense of smell, and yet for some reason, it was like all the animals had left on vacation, with no scent of the usual warm or cold blood, to my nose it was like complete silence. 

As I descended the mountain, the snowflakes danced around me like tiny, ethereal spirits. The chill in the air was biting, but it only invigorated me further, reminding me of the warmth awaiting me in the village below. With my basket of coal securely fastened to my back, I trekked down the familiar path, each step bringing me closer to the bustling heart of the village.

As I entered the village, I was greeted by the comforting sights and sounds of daily life. Merchants hawked their wares, their voices blending in a cacophony of commerce. Children laughed and played in the snow, their joy infectious amidst the backdrop of winter's embrace.

I made my way through the winding streets, my senses alive with the smells and sounds of the marketplace. The aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the earthy scent of vegetables, while the distant sound of a flute added a melody to the hustle and bustle of the crowd.

With practiced ease, I navigated the throngs of people, my keen sense of smell guiding me to those in need. Whether it was a mother searching for the ripest fruits or a weary traveler in need of directions, I offered my assistance with a smile, finding joy in the simple act of helping others.

I continued my journey, my thoughts turning to the warmth of home and the comfort of family. For in the end, it was the simple pleasures of life that mattered most – the laughter of loved ones, the beauty of nature, and the joy of lending a helping hand.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, there was an undercurrent of tension, a sense that something was amiss. I wrinkled my nose, the familiar scent of blood tickling at my senses, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest.

Curiosity piqued, I followed the scent, weaving my way through the crowded streets with practiced ease. The trail led me deeper into the heart of the village, past rows of tightly packed houses and narrow alleyways, until at last I found myself standing before a small, dilapidated building.

The scent of blood grew stronger here, thick and cloying, sending a shiver down my spine. With a sense of trepidation, I pushed open the door and stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the dim interior.

What I saw there took my breath away.

Lying on the floor before me was a small, wounded creature – a cat, its fur matted with blood and dirt. It looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes, a soft mewl escaping its lips as it struggled to rise.

Without hesitation, I rushed to its side, my heart pounding in my chest as I assessed its injuries. Blood stained its fur and dripped onto the floor, pooling beneath its trembling form. I could feel the warmth of its body against my fingertips, a stark contrast to the icy chill of the room.

Gently, I cradled the injured cat in my arms, murmuring soothing words as I examined its wounds. It had been attacked, that much was clear, but by whom or what, I could not say. All that mattered was that it needed help, and I was determined to provide it.

With careful hands, I cleaned its wounds and bound them as best I could, my fingers moving with practiced precision. The cat watched me with wary eyes, but made no move to resist, as if sensing that I meant it no harm.

As I worked, my mind wandered, thoughts swirling like snowflakes in the wind. Who could have done such a thing? And why? The village was normally a peaceful place, its inhabitants living in harmony with one another and the natural world around them.

The wounds on this cat were strange, as if something had bitten it, fangs, something uncomfortable washed over me, I took the cat to the local vet and was on my way home when the blizzard picked up, the winds were too strong, twice I had attempted to climb the mountain, twice I was thrown down by the wind.

The old man who lived at the base of the mountain, Saburo-san was nice, usually, I wouldn't accept invitations such as this but I was physically unable to climb the mountain and in such conditions like this, I had to depend on people I could trust and Saburo was a kind-hearted old man, not a pervert so what does it matter?

I followed the man to his house where he beckoned me to sit, "Renjiro-kun, you look very worn out, please have some fish!" 

"Arigato gozaimasu, Saburo-san, I must leave, early in the morning, I am making a mistake leaving my family alone this winter."

"Do not worry Renjiro-kun, It is my fault you worry so much, ever since I told you that tale when you were younger about the demon." 

"It is quite alright, Saburo-san, thank you for letting me stay, I will be getting some rest, arigato gozaimasu for the place to stay, goodnight!"

I lay in the futon, Saburo-san had provided and pondered about what my family had been thinking this whole day, i hoped they wouldn't be too worried when I told them I stayed the night here.