Chapter 2: Tanjiro
«Listen to me, no matter in what life or in what time, wherever you are in this world, I will find you again. »
The alarm on his phone rings somewhere on the futon. Three continuous beeps marking 6:31 a.m. wake him up, but Tanjiro doesn't open his eyes. He moves his body, rolling to the side letting out a grunt and taking the blanket wrapped around his legs with him.
He lies there for a few more seconds until he gets enough willpower to get up or until the light coming through the window becomes annoying enough. Whatever happens first.
He hears the sliding of the sliding door behind him above the sound of cicadas in the garden. The smell of breakfast wafts into his nose along with the smell of the perfume his sister wears every day. He knows it is her who is now under the door frame. He doesn't need to turn around to confirm it anyway, as Nezuko's soft voice is already calling out to him.
"Tanjiro get up, breakfast is ready," she says, one of her hands still holding the edge of the door.
"I'm coming...," he replies in a slurred, slightly hoarse voice when he finally opens his eyes.
Tanjiro straightens up on the futon as his sister's footsteps move away down the hallway outside the room. He lets out a yawn and brings his hands to his face to rub his eyes. His fingers dig into the skin of his closed eyelids, but he stops suddenly.
His fingers are wet. There were tears in his eyes until a few seconds ago. He hadn't noticed them, but he can't find any reason for them to be there.
He doesn't remember what he was dreaming, but for some reason there is a strange feeling in his chest, a thought tugging at the back of his head.
He stands still for a few moments longer, simply staring at the uniform shirt and pants hanging in the closet on the far wall.
I could have sworn I heard someone talking to me in my sleep. .
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There is the smell of fried eggs and black tea mingling in the air in the dining room next to the kitchen.
Urokodaki sits kneeling at one end of the tatami. Back straight, with his usual light blue robe and cloud patterns, his hair tied up neatly at the bottom of his head and his Tengu mask resting on the floor beside him. He holds a steaming cup of tea, cradling the pottery between his palms and taking leisurely sips from it.
"Do you want last night's fish, Grandpa?" asks Nezuko, sitting down in the same way. The reheated food in one of her hands and the chopsticks in the other.
"You can eat it yourself, dear," he replies, smiling. It's small, but it's a smile all the same.
There are footsteps approaching from behind the door. Tanjiro's figure enters the small dining room saying good morning to his grandfather with a smile that lifts his cheekbones. His pants and white uniform shirt are clean and neat. All he has left to do is comb his reddish black hair, but he will do that after breakfast.
"You've taken your time, brother," Nezuko reproaches him as she sees him sitting across from her on the tatami. A small pout protrudes from her lips.
Tanjiro doesn't look at her, he's taking the deep white plate when he speaks downplaying it. "I'll make breakfast tomorrow."
He hums a short made-up tune as he pours himself a couple of spoonfuls of white rice, oblivious to the deep, watchful gaze his grandfather is giving him. Analyzing his movements and the slight gestures on his face as if he wants to find something different there.
"You are normal today," Hurokodaki says without looking away, bringing the rim of the cup to his lips.
Tanjiro raises his face in confusion as he notices that he says it to him. A small 'huh?" comes out of his throat as he tilts his head an inch, not quite understanding what he is referring to.
"You were a mess yesterday" adds his sister laughing in an obviously mocking manner towards him.
"What are you two talking about?"
But neither of them manages to answer him. A familiar, annoying melody comes out of the small amplifier on the wall behind their grandfather. Tanjiro looks up to see it, not bothering to hold back a frown as a woman's monotone, bored voice begins to speak.
"Attention citizens of Itomori. Good morning. This is an official announcement from the Itomori city council about the mayoral election, the election of the committee will be held on the 20th of next mo-"
Urokodaki has unplugged the device from the outlet cutting off the message and leaving the room silent. Tanjiro inwardly thanks him by relaxing his frown and lifting the TV remote control to turn it on.
The first thing shown is a smiling brown-haired woman talking a little more enthusiastically about the headline written at the bottom of the screen. Next to her is a slightly pixelated photograph and the name 'Comet Tiamat' written in white letters.
Tanjiro forgets the interrupted topic of conversation. With mechanical movements as he puts his chopsticks in his mouth and eats, he gives his full attention to the TV screen, hearing about the comet that will pass by in a month and be visible to the eye for a few days.
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"We're leaving!"
Nezuko and Tanjiro walk away from the front door of the house after saying goodbye to their grandfather; they cross the garden and walk down the stone steps to the main street.
Steady steps down the worn and grassy sidewalks in their cracks of the town. The neighboring houses on one side and the view to the huge lake on the other, with the water glistening in the reflected light of the rising sun. The summer heat still embraces the atmosphere along with the sound of cicadas, but it is less intense than a few weeks ago.
Soon they begin to meet more people coming out of their houses and moving forward, parting at the various roads, alleys and landings of the town.
Nezuko is smiling beside them, talking excitedly about the festival that will usher in autumn in a month and how much fun it will be.
Their walk continues, until at some point the familiar tinkling of a little bell is heard behind them above the sway of bicycle wheels on asphalt.
"Tanjiro! Nezuko!"
They both turn and stop. It is Zenitsu's voice that calls out to them, approaching alongside Inosuke, the two boys sitting on the green-eyed boy's bike.
"Inosuke, Zenitsu, good morning." greet both Kamado siblings with synchronized voices and a smile as their friends stop beside them.
Zenitsu gets off to start walking beside them and soon the click of the chain can be heard again as they move forward.
" Well, are you the same Tanjiro today?" the blond asks after a few seconds of standing next to him, leaving him in the middle of himself and his sister. A curious, analytical gaze fixes on him.
"Yeah, did your grandpa exorcise you or something?" adds Inosuke. His tone of voice lets him know that the question is serious, but there are hints of mockery hidden behind it.
Tanjiro looks at them in confusion, cocking his head to the side for the second time today "Exorcise?"
"Something definitely possessed you yesterday!" exclaims Inosuke again, moving a little more flamboyantly than necessary. Inosuke's hair flaps over his shoulders as does the bicycle that threatens to send him tumbling over the other side of the bridge railing straight into the river below them, but he manages to compose himself immediately.
"Don't exaggerate Inosuke!", Zenitsu reproaches him with annoyance giving him a shove that knocks him off balance again. " Cut it out with that occult stuff already!"
"Make me Monitsu!"
"What are you two talking about?" Tanjiro turns his face looking for an explanation from his sister seeing that another argument is about to start between the other two.
Nezuko looks at him with a small smile on her lips. There is something about her that he fails to decipher and it only leaves him more confused.
"Brother, it's just that you..."
But her words are interrupted when they have approached a vacant lot on one side of the street. There are several parked cars and people standing around, but what makes them stop is the voice of a man speaking in a serene disposition on a small platform echoing down the twisting street over the loudspeakers.
It is Yoriichi, a man with long, black, vermilion hair and sharp, almond-shaped, carmine-red eyes. At that moment he has a solemn and reserved expression on his face. Lips moving near the microphone he holds in one of his hands.
"And above all restore the fiscal health of the town to continue with the revitalization project, only when that is achieved a safe and healthy community will be created!"
The group stands watching for a few more seconds, listening as people around them whisper about how it's obvious the man will be re-elected for mayor, some even say he was giving away pork to get the town's votes.
Tanjiro is the first to look away and keep walking.
If he is totally honest he doesn't want to listen to his uncle's talk and all the campaign promises he has.
Not that he is a bad person, Tanjiro remembers that at some point in the past his sister and him had a close relationship with the man, however, after the death of their parents they were not on the best of terms along with their grandfather.
Both Nezuko and Tanjiro hurried their pace followed by their friends, both with a crestfallen look hoping to pass unnoticed from the man's sight.
"Tanjiro! Nezuko!" they stop suddenly after hearing the stern tone with which he speaks to them. Tanjiro feels his sister tense up beside him as all pairs of eyes of those present there fixate on them. A somewhat noticeable blush builds up on his cheekbones "Stand up straight as you walk!"
Yoriichi looks down at them from the platform, with the same solemn expression and cold eyes ignoring how the people closest to him whisper that he is strict even with his family. Tanjiro purses his lips as their gazes meet bringing a bit of panic to his chest before taking Nezuko's hand and trotting hurriedly away from the place.
"In front of everyone..." he hears Nezuko whine with annoyance and a few tears in her eyes beside him and though he won't say it out loud, he feels the same way as his sister.
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The air in the classroom is dry. With a present smell of dust and the sensation of heat emanating from the window panes next to Tanjiro.
The class has started normally since they arrived and he had to separate from his sister so that everyone goes to their own classroom. The teacher has been standing for a few minutes with his back to them, leaving them to hear only the click of white chalk as he writes on the board.
Tanjiro turns the pages of his notebook, flipping through notes from days or weeks ago without much interest until he reaches the next blank page, but something catches his attention stopping his hands.
'Who are you?'
It's a question written in the center of the page. The kanji scribbled with black marker are a bit large, they don't seem done in a hurry, on the contrary, Tanjiro could tell that whoever has written that has done it with caution, really questioning it.
He doesn't recognize the calligraphy, but it's ....elegant somehow and he likes it, curious as it is.
"Ocasus" Rengoku begins, finally turning to look at the students. The animated and familiar tone of voice echoes within the classroom walls. "It is the origin of the word 'Ocasus', everyone should know this word."
The man has a broad smile on his lips as he sweeps his gaze over the faces in front of him, some attentive returning his gaze and others focused on taking down his words. "Nightfall, when it is neither day nor night. When the boundary between worlds fades, creating the blue world and so someone finds something non-human."
Rengoku turns to note on the slate shaking the longer strands of his blond hair over his shoulders. "An older term is twilight, though some call it the golden hour," he continues.
Tanjiro isn't paying too much attention, his teacher has started to answer another question mentioning something about the magic hour, but he's hunched over at his desk. His eyes are glued to the notebook on his desk, flipping to the other pages, flipping through and looking for the same calligraphy, but apparently that's the only one that contains that strange question.
"Kamado!"
Rengoku's striking voice startles him. His head straightens causing the earrings he is wearing to jerk. His whole body rises until he stands up holding the textbook in his hands and looks in the direction of his teacher "Ah-! Yes?"
Tanjiro hears him let out a small chuckle that ends up widening the usual smile on his lips before he speaks " Oh, so you remember your name today" he jokes.
The comment ends up unleashing a wave of laughter throughout the room making the sense of bewilderment that has been building up since he woke up grow. He cocks his head and frowns just a little not understanding the mocking looks of his classmates on him, wondering internally how many more times he will make that little gesture of confusion in the remainder of the day.
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"You really don't remember?" asks Zenitsu incredulously.
The leftover chairs and desks stacked under one of the trees in the schoolyard have some dirt and fallen leaves, but Tanjiro and the others sit there anyway. It's a spot away from the building and all the other students playing basketball or doing who knows what. It's a good place to eat lunch and escape the midday heat under the shade of the tree.
Tanjiro shakes his head at the blond's question and brings the edge of the juice can to his mouth. He feels his earrings flutter at his sides.
"Believe it or not, yesterday you forgot where your desk and locker were" Zenitsu begins to say without taking his eyes off him bringing his hands to his lap.
"Besides you behaved colder than usual" adds Nezuko next to him with a worried frown on her face "You didn't smile all day".
"You didn't remember our names"
"And on top of that you weren't wearing your earrings."
What his sister tells him at the end is what ended up alarming him. The unthinkable idea of not wearing the flashy accessories inherited by his father makes his heart drop to his stomach causing nausea to gush.
What the hell?
"What....?" He asks with an incredulous sigh and a hint of panic. His free hand has involuntarily moved to one of his ears, as if to make sure the earrings are indeed there at that moment.
"Yeah, as if you were a completely different person," the blond assures him.
Tanjiro can feel his sister's gaze next to him glued to him. Expectant for some explanation just like Zenitsu, but honestly he has no idea of what to say at that moment.
He bites his lip in a nervous gesture lowering his gaze to the now empty juice can. His fingers run over the smooth surface and the printed brand name of the soda for the seconds it takes him to collect his thoughts.
His friends aren't the first people to tell him he was behaving strangely; his grandfather, someone who definitely didn't joke about something like that, told him in a roundabout way in the morning. Nezuko had scoffed a bit, but she had seconded Urokodaki's words and now she looks really engrossed in finding out what's wrong with him from the insistent look she keeps giving him.
Plus, there's that strange question scribbled in her notebook....
His head lifts to look up at the sky between the branches of the trees and lose himself in the jagged shapes of the clouds above them as if searching for an answer.
He sifts through his head, between what is most recent and what is from a few days ago. Memories. Thoughts. Ideas. Something.
Then he finds that something.
While asleep, with a warm drink beside him on the futon, he remembers dreaming he saw a different place from there. Outside the window of his classroom or the train that swings by in the mornings; slanted, blue, dull eyes. Black hair. A city. That voice.
Maybe...
He finally responds letting out a sigh.
"Well... now that you mention it, I feel like I've been having a weird dream lately" Tanjiro says "A dream of someone else's life?" His voice is hesitant as he's not really convinced if what he's saying sounds believable enough or if later Zenitsu will think he's just as crazy as Inosuke "I can't remember it clearly."
His sister's gaze is still there along with Zenitsu's. They both seem unsure of what he just said because of the pinch that crosses their eyebrows for a second, but they let it go after a few moments.
"Wait... I got it!" exclaims Inosuke suddenly, raising his head to look at him with an enthusiastic, grimly grimace, which he assumes is a smile, on his lips " Those are memories from a previous life or maybe your unconscious connected to Everett's multiverse theory!"
Tanjiro has to hunch back a bit as Inosuke lifts the open magazine he was reading and holds it in front of his face. He guesses it's supernatural articles from the few images of spaceships he catches a glimpse of before Zenitsu slaps it away.
"Stay out of this!" the blond scolds in annoyance "How come for school you're an idiot, but for that sort of thing you're not?" he finishes rolling his eyes.
"What did you say!"
Tanjiro stands still for a second, leaving the argument between his friends as a background sound. What Inosuke has said, for some reason, has suddenly resonated with him.
Previous life. Previous life. Previous life, repeating a few times inside him.
Memories of a previous life?
Come on, that's .... unthinkable, right?
Tanjiro has only heard about it in movies and books. Fiction. Words like destiny or future were always associated with that of past lives, but for him it is something that is completely out of his reach. A simple boy like him couldn't even imagine such a thing.
He may have always been a hopeless dreamer who imagined himself living adventures and hunting monsters with a katana as a child, but he knows how to differentiate the fantastic and disturbing from the real and accurate.
Yes, surely it's just his ideas and Inosuke must be playing with him.
Tanjiro comes out of his thoughts shaking his head.
"Oh, Inosuke, did you write that in my notebook?" he asks him with the sudden idea that it is indeed Inosuke who has been touching his things.
But the incredulous expression he gives him before answering him ends up killing the small hope of giving her any explanation to this strange situation. "Huh? Why would I take your notebook, Tontaro?"
" Never mind.", a surrendered sigh and a shrug of his shoulders.
"But brother, you acted really weird yesterday," Nezuko speaks in a voice as uneasy as her gaze from the chair closest to him "Are you feeling okay?"
Tanjiro nods several times bending his knees and bringing them to his chest as an involuntary reflex. His arms wrap around them as his gaze fixes on a flat spot on the grass on the floor. "It's strange, I feel fine."
"Maybe it's the stress," Zenitsu says, stuffing the last piece of onigiri into his mouth. His voice a little muffled as he chews the food "that ritual is tonight, right?"
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"Itomori is in the ass-end of the world"
"Inosuke!"
"What, it's true!" he says again. This time stopping his bike and looking at Zenitsu with a frown "There's nothing in this town!"
Both Kamado siblings let out a small but animated laugh from their throats as they continue walking.
The heat has subsided along with the sun in the sky, leaving a warm blue color that will soon begin to tint the clouds with its swirls bringing an end to yet another day in the town. The September wind ruffles their hair as they approach the railroad tracks down the road with the smell of grass and pasture everywhere.
"I don't blame him, it's true it's very small and closed" nods Tanjiro, speaking before another of the typical arguments between their friends begins.
Walking on the train tracks worn down by the years, Tanjiro can only think that, for the first time, he agrees with Inosuke's complaints.
He wouldn't trade Itomori or all the memories of the place where he was born and raised, but he must admit that the place is just... boring. A small town in the middle of nowhere where nothing happens either.
Trains arrive every two hours at the small station, which is nothing more than an elevated wooden platform. Conventional stores and small supermarkets scattered throughout various areas of the city close at 9 p.m. all too precisely and it's frustrating.
There are no libraries where he would have liked to lock himself away to read after school or dentists to go to when Nezuko had trouble with one of her molars a few years ago; but there are two continuous bars that, for some reason, stay open most of the day.
There are no part-time jobs that he could get if for some reason he needed extra money. Nor are there many people to chat with. It's the same faces he's known all his life, and although there are several guys and girls his age, Tanjiro doesn't see them as possible options for dating, so there's no one to hang out with.
Although there are few hours of sunshine, Itomori's scenery is one of the things he loves most about it, especially at that time of day. The sunsets are magnificent.
Everything combines with the composition of the place, its traditional buildings and the surrounding mountains, transforming it into something indescribable when admired from a distance, as at that moment, still having Inosuke's complaints in the background and the last glimmers of light breaking between the branches of the trees.
Tanjiro fills his chest in a sharp inhalation, taking one last look at the distant pink colors until he stops with the rest at a small roadside space where there are a couple of iced coffee vending machines that, in all honesty, he could really use at the moment.
They each take turns using it by sliding coins inside, mashing the buttons and taking in the dull sound of each falling drink.
The silence they sink into is comforting and familiar as they bring the coffee cans to their mouths, sitting on the small wooden benches with the exception of Inosuke who has remained on his bike.
"What will you do after you graduate?" Nezuko's question rises above the sound of the cicadas and crickets that have begun to chirp among the nearest grass. His sister's eyes are lost in the smoke billowing from the chimney of their house atop the hill ahead of them.
"I'll probably stay in this village," Inosuke replies boredly, crushing the empty can between his hands and then tossing it into one of the nearby dumpsters.
"I'll marry you, Nezuko," Zenitsu says, raising and lowering his eyebrows with an awkwardly flirtatious smile on his lips leaning towards her.
"In your dreams, Zenitsu," she replies teasingly pushing him away with a hand crushing his face. The blond lets out dramatic moans in response.
"Nothing special." Tanjiro replies at last simply. A quiet smile on his lips and eyes hard to read at that moment.
He doesn't say anything else and neither his sister nor his friends press him to answer anything different. They understand that things must be difficult for him at this time of year having to take center stage and the madness.
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"You have to listen to the voice of the threads, when you braid them over and over again the emotions will eventually flow between you and the thread" Urokodaki comments parsimoniously.
The rattling between the rollers full of threads hanging on the sides of the marudai; the scraping and rubbing on the loom with the strokes of the rod on the joints of the threads to secure them is all that can be heard besides their grandfather's stories.
"Among our intertwined threads are thousands of Itomori stories."
Tanjiro and Nezuko wear a traditional hakama and kimono cinched at the waist and stomach. They are sitting on their knees in front of Urokodaki braiding silk threads on a wooden disk each. They have been there for about half an hour and are about to finish the kumihimo strings for tonight's ritual as they listen with pleasure to what the man relates.
"Two hundred years ago..."
"Here we go again..." Tanjiro comments amused under his breath, knowing in advance what he is going to say next.
"The Haganezuka blacksmith's bath caught fire and burned down this whole area. The shrine and old documents were destroyed. This fire is known as-"
"Haganezuka's great fire" Tanjiro and Nezuko recite at the same time, closing their eyes and straightening their backs, but their 'graceful' posture doesn't last more than two seconds before they pull the strings taut between their fingers again.
"I still can't believe they named the fire after him" his sister comments with an imperceptible smile on her lips, feeling genuinely sorry for the poor man from so many years ago. "Poor Haganezuka."
Urokodaki adjusts the mask on his face looking at them with a slight smile they can't see before resuming his task at the loom.
"The meaning of our festivals is uncertain, it was lost because of that and only the surface remained" the tone of his voice changes to a slightly more serious one and to Tanjiro it even sounds nostalgic along with the splashing of the river running under the workroom they are in. "But, even if they are lost, we have to keep the tradition going. That's the important task we at Kamado Temple have."
Tanjiro understands this in a way.
For as long as he can remember, his family has adhered to the beliefs of the temple under his tutelage, long before he was born. The Kamado temple, or the temple of the sun god, has stood for generations, passing down the traditions and "the dance" to each firstborn of the family.
His father was the head of the temple and the priesthood before he passed away, Tanjuro was too devout compared to his brother Yoriichi. He remembers him in the snow dancing barefoot in the cold, giving thanks and paying homage to the god with choreography learned by heart.
Now that he has the earrings, Tanjiro will be the next to inherit the task of maintaining it since his uncle decided, hopelessly, to leave home and devote himself to politics.
But if he is honest he doesn't know how to feel about that important task. He could not answer his sister's question that afternoon because of the same uncertainty that his future plans bring him. Just thinking about it gives him an irritating headache and a strange choking feeling in his chest. Like the one that comes suddenly when you are desperate to repress unpleasant memories and all you want to do is forget.
Tanjiro decides to push the feeling behind because now is not the time to suffer in his existential doubts or to succumb to the pressure implicit in his grandfather's words.
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His body moves. He is precise and millimetric, he launches into a new position and stops in another when necessary. Coordinated and familiar movements. His body's muscle memory is what guides him and leads him into each position, making him stretch his arms, bend his knees or balance in place.
His mind blank, he is only carried along by the dance along with the music coming from the sound system on one of the altar columns.
He can feel Nezuko next to him doing the same. The same choreography, the same steps. All coordinated with him and his own dance.
Both are wearing the temple costume, the traditional woven haori with flame designs and the white hakama underneath. They wear a mask on their face, not like the one their grandfather is wearing at that moment, sitting behind them on his knees watching them dance, but rather a white veil with symbols painted in the center.
The bells on the tips of the staffs they hold clash and jingle. High-pitched sounds to the rhythm of the movements. Their bare feet slip on the wooden floor and their earrings bounce from time to time dangling from their ears, with the sound of the pealing fire in the background.
Tanjiro first saw this dance when he was about three years old. Every first night of January his father used to dance to thank the sun god in front of the offering on one of the mountains. It was one of the many times they repeated it during the year; he remembers not understanding how his father could stand being in that freezing weather without freezing his lungs while he moved, but he admired his devotion and dedication to it.
Tanjiro finished learning it from his grandfather after the accident his parents suffered. Urokodaki's exact words were 'Now it's your turn' and he only remembers that he felt like he was almost suffocating as he stood still.
He doesn't know the reason or why, much less can he make sense of it, but as they near the end of the dance, with the final clanging of bells and ripping of clothes, Tanjiro can only think of how heavy the haori feels on his shoulders or how the wood of the staff burns his palms.
It's strange. Something even Nezuko doesn't know, but for as long as he can remember Tanjiro always had a reaction of aversion or rejection to anything to do with the dance of the sun god. His body felt uncomfortable and everything in him screamed a resounding 'Stay away'. Intense oppression.
Fear. of. It.
He doesn't understand why.
It's absurd. Something that shouldn't be there but is and it makes him feel guilty. He's supposed to worship the sun god and the temple as much as his father or his grandfather; he is the spitting image of Tanjuro after all, but he doesn't.
He can't.
And for Tanjiro the worst thing is that he can't do anything about it, not when expectations are too high since, at some point in the future, he will be the new head of the priesthood and the tradition he already carried hanging from his shoulders will be thrust upon him once and for all.
So Tanjiro must swallow the knot of his emotions, he must deal with all the uninvited feelings of dread about it as he has been doing since who-knows-how-long.
That's why he prefers to let his mind go blank and dance mechanically, because that way his brain can somehow block out everything the dance means and he can finish without having a panic attack before he gets to the end or he will surely end up throwing up the moment he has to spit out the rice to make the sake.
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"Easy Nezuko" Tanjiro says with a calm smile closing the sliding door behind him. His eyes land on his sister a few steps ahead. She lets out frustrated babbles about how embarrassing it was to do kuchikamisake in front of everyone while her eyes are glued to the folded clothes in her hands. "What does it matter if the kids at school saw you?"
"I envy your lack of concern as a senior," his sister barks, annoyed, and shoots him a withering glare before turning around and walking away at a snail's pace.
Tanjiro follows her until she catches up to him and continues walking. It is very late, perhaps past midnight because of the silence and darkness surrounding the temple. Above them, in the view interrupted by the tops of some trees is a wide clear sky, filled with flickering white dots.
"I'm sick of this place" says Nezuko suddenly breaking the silence in which only their steps can be heard on the cobblestones of the road and the chirping of crickets among the trees.
"Nezuko..."
She doesn't hear him, she steps forward, descending the stairs two at a time until she reaches the landing and stands between the columns of the Zen entrance.
She takes a big breath of air before exclaiming loudly towards the town. Hunching her upper body forward a bit and pressing her clothes to her chest.
"I hate this town! I hate this life!" her words echo in the distance, bouncing between the houses and forest around them. "I want to be a handsome boy from Tokyo in my next life!"
Tanjiro knows that a few tears of frustration are building up in his sister's eyes. He doesn't need to see it, as it's easy to deduce it from her tone of voice, just as it's easy for him to empathize with her.
He's not going to say it out loud. He's not going to admit it, and if anyone ever asks him, he'll flatly deny it.
But...
If what Inosuke said about past lives is true, I too hope to wake up and be a handsome boy in Tokyo.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
be_lee
be_lee There are some things that will change regarding the story but the general plot of the movie remains the same. I'll do my best not to let these changes affect too much.
Comment please!
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