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Naminé Yamada wishes to kill demons.
Followed by the nightmares of her past, Naminé dedicated her life to strengthening herself mentally and physically ever since the death of her mother, hellbent on avenging her somehow. Though it seems that...
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"Tanjiro?"
Tamayo and Yushiro's home was nowhere to be found. Instead, Naminé found herself standing back on the staircase leading up to the Final Selection test at Mount Fujikasane, strands of luminous wisteria shifting in the breeze all around.
Standing just where he had been the first time they met, Naminé would have thought this as some memory if it wasn't for the fact that he was wearing that familiar checkered haori and demon slayer uniform.
But Tanjiro turned, giving her the same kind smile that broke her heart every time she looked at it.
"How are you feeling, Naminé?"
Naminé knew that this was a dream. She knew that this wasn't the real Tanjiro, no matter how much he looked or sounded like the slayer she knew. And though she wasn't certain what this Tanjiro meant by the question, she found herself spilling her heart to this boy beneath the wisteria.
"I'm honestly confused on what to do next. I don't know how to find Muzan and I don't know how in the world I will ever get him to admit how he knows my mother."
"Your mother?" Tanjiro asked, making his way towards her. "You haven't mentioned her before."
"It hurts to talk about her," she admitted, already beginning to feel the agonizing sting in her chest whenever memories of her mother began to spring up. "But Muzan whispered something to me that makes me think he knows something about her. Maybe how she died . . . or the demon that killed her."
A pained look fell over his burgundy eyes, Naminé feeling the urge to wipe it away from there as soon as possible. "Why haven't you talked to me about this before?"
"We all have things we keep to ourselves. I'm sure there's something you haven't expressed to me yet."
Surprisingly, there seemed to be a flush on his cheeks from her words.
"There is," Tanjiro admitted, unable to meet her gaze. "I'm trying to figure out what it means myself, though. And how to tell you . . ."
"Maybe you should tell me now," she said, glancing all-around at the wisteria. "I know that this is only a dream. So whatever you have to tell me is probably not what the real Tanjiro needs to say."
And even though she knew this wasn't the real Tanjiro, the smile on his lips made something pulse violently against her chest.
"I wish I could. But it's not time yet."
Naminé was well aware of the effect that Tanjiro had on her. Had questioned so many times now just why her pulse quickened when his hand grazed her own. Why she felt like her heart beat in harmony with his when they fought alongside one another. Why hearing his voice call out her name entranced her just as her mother's lullaby used to.
