The Hidden Demon Slayer (DEMON SLAYER X OC)

Chapter 21: Where Light Can't Follow

The sun broke over the horizon in a slow, golden crawl. Nariko sat at the edge of the window frame, arms resting on her knees, eyes narrowed against the light that bled into the quiet room. The worn floor creaked faintly beneath her boots. Dust floated through the warm beams like snow caught midair, and for once, nothing moved beyond the trees. She hadn't lit a fire. Didn't bother with food. The stillness was both a comfort and a weight.

The cottage was too quiet without Hanabi's soft humming, without Kenzhou's pacing footsteps. The silence rang louder than their voices ever did. She hadn't dared step outside. Not yet.

The sun's warmth was unforgiving. She could already feel her body tense with the ache of holding herself still, as if movement itself would burn her through. The hours passed painfully slow, marked only by the shifting rays across the floorboards and the soft ticking of her own heartbeat. "This is what Muzan feels when he can't step outside, huh? Pathetic.."

Nariko let her mind drift, but not too far. She thought of her master, of Ritsuka's steady hands and sharp eyes. She had promised herself she would find Ritsuka again, but that would have to wait. Again.

As the sky turned to dusk and the last amber sliver of sunlight kissed the horizon, Nariko rose. She didn't leave through the door, she slipped out the back window, like they had. Every motion was deliberate, silent, and practiced. Her haori billowed faintly around her ankles, black against the graying trees.

The forest looked different at night. Not just darker, but colder and lonelier. Even the crickets were quieter. She moved quickly, darting between trees like a shadow with purpose. She followed the path she'd told them to take. Down the slope, past the forked oak, then north where the moss grew thickest. The air turned damper, the trail more uneven. But Nariko's steps never faltered. By the time she reached the riverbank, moonlight had painted the water silver. She paused, crouched low, and examined the trail. No signs of struggle. No fresh blood. Just the faint indent of two sets of footprints pressed into soft mud, half-washed away by the river's edge. Good. They made it this far.

She followed the river upstream, deeper into the trees. The trail narrowed the farther she went, thorns snagging at her sleeves, owls watching from the canopy above. Then, finally, she saw it. A faint curl of smoke in the distance. Not enough to signal danger, but enough to say that someone was there.

Nariko didn't smile, but something in her chest loosened. She stayed hidden among the trees, watching from a distance for several minutes to ensure no other presence lurked nearby. Then, cautiously, she approached the modest cottage nestled between two large stones and the tree line.

She knocked twice, then once more after a pause. The door opened just enough for Hanabi to peek through. Relief broke across her face like morning sun. "Nariko—"

Nariko raised a finger. "Later. Let me check the perimeter first."

Kenzhou appeared behind Hanabi, arms folded. "You took your time."

"I waited for sunset," she said plainly, eyes scanning past them both. "We'll talk once I know we're safe."

She disappeared again into the dark for a few minutes, sweeping the area. No scent of blood. No demon marks. No Hashira presence. When she returned, her haori was damp from the mist that had begun to rise.

Hanabi pulled the door open, wider this time. "We kept it ready for you." Nariko stepped inside. The fire was small, but it flickered warmly in the hearth. The air smelled faintly of herbs. Kenzhou handed her a cup of hot tea without a word. She took it, held it between her palms, and let the warmth seep into her fingers. "Thanks," she murmured, the weight of the day finally settling on her shoulders.

They didn't speak for a while, and no one needed to. For the moment, they were safe.

The fire had dwindled to soft embers by midnight, the cottage wrapped in silence once again. Nariko stood by the window, one hand resting lightly against the frame, eyes locked on the tree line. The moon hung high, bathing the forest in silver and shadow. Every creak of wood, every rustle of leaves outside put her nerves on edge, but nothing stirred. Behind her, Hanabi slept in the corner, curled beneath a blanket. Kenzhou sat cross-legged near the fire, silent and watchful, his expression unreadable in the dim glow.

Nariko finally broke the silence. "You can return in two days," she said, her voice low. "If they don't find anything, the Hashira will pull back. But you can't go wandering before then." Kenzhou glanced at her. "You're not staying?"

She turned to face him fully. "No. I have to go."

He stood slowly. "Where?"

"To find my master. Ritsuka-san." Her gaze didn't waver. "She needs to know I'm alive. That I didn't abandon the Corps. Well, not entirely. And... if anyone can help me figure out what to do next, it's her."

Kenzhou looked skeptical. "You're just going to leave Hanabi here? Alone?"

"She won't be alone," Nariko said, walking toward the door and gently pulling on her haori. "She'll have you. And you're more than capable of protecting her."

He looked away. "You keep saying that."

Nariko arched her brow. "Because it's true. You're strong, Kenzhou. Strong enough to become a Kizuki if you let yourself fall." Her tone softened. "But you didn't. That alone means I trust you to keep her safe."

His jaw tightened. "I'm not like them."

"Exactly." She fastened her haori. "And that's why I need to move. While you stay hidden, I'll draw attention away. If the Hashira are still searching, I'll steer them elsewhere."

From the corner, Hanabi stirred slightly, her brows furrowing in her sleep. Nariko walked over and gently adjusted the blanket over her. "You said two days," Kenzhou murmured behind her.

She nodded. "Stay low. No lights after dusk. If the mist thickens again tomorrow, that's your sign it's safe."

Kenzhou's voice dropped. "You sure about this?"

Nariko didn't answer immediately. She looked at the door, at the way the wind rustled the edge of the trees, the forest yawning out into darkness beyond. "No," she admitted. "But it's the only path left. Ritsuka-san deserves to know the truth. And maybe... I need to face her before the Corps does."

As Nariko turned toward the door, Kenzhou stepped forward again, stopping her just before she could leave. "Hey," he said quietly. "Will we see you again?"

Nariko paused, her hand resting on the wooden frame. The question lingered in the space between them, heavy with everything left unsaid. She looked over her shoulder, one brow arched, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. "Only if you don't die before then."

Kenzhou huffed a short laugh, shaking his head. "Still talking like you're the only one with skills."

Nariko grinned, her voice dropping to something gentler. "I'll try to come back. And when I do..." She glanced at him with a glint of challenge in her eyes. "We'll have that rematch you keep dreaming about."

Kenzhou rolled his eyes. "You're assuming I ever lost."

"You almost did."

Their eyes met for a long moment, and for all their bickering, the truth passed silently between them: this was goodbye, for now, but not forever. Then, with one last look toward Hanabi sleeping soundly in the corner, Nariko stepped outside and let the door fall shut behind her. The forest waited, still and dark. And so, she moved one step at a time, back into the unknown.