Demon Slayer: Taking Care Of Tanjuro's Wife And Daughter

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After returning home from the mission, Ryuji didn't immediately allocate the attribute points he had gained from the battle. He knew better than to rush such things. Power, once attained too quickly, could be difficult to control. For a swordsman like him, even the smallest misstep in control could lead to disaster—not just for himself but for others around him.

Instead, he paced the quiet room, his mind a storm of emotions. The thrill of the hunt still coursed through his veins, accompanied by the faint metallic tang of blood in his memory. His body yearned for release, a moment to vent the energy before pushing forward once more. If he didn't, it would gnaw at him, distracting him during his next confrontation.

The house was still. The children were already asleep, and even Tanjirou had retired early. Ryuji smiled faintly as he glanced toward the training yard through the open shoji screen. He had told Tanjirou more than once that overtraining was counterproductive. Strength came not just from discipline but from balance—a harmony between work, rest, and proper nourishment.

He's progressing well, Ryuji thought. Better than I'd expected, even without the tragic burden he carried in the original story.

With Ryuji supporting the family, Tanjirou didn't have to endure the relentless grind of trying to provide for his siblings or wrestle with the guilt of losing everyone he loved. There was food on the table every night, and money wasn't a constant worry. That left Tanjirou with only one task: to focus on his training.

But adversity sharpens the spirit in ways that comfort cannot. Ryuji furrowed his brow. Though Tanjirou was stronger now, his lack of hardship meant his emotional growth lagged behind. He hasn't seen the horrors of losing everything. He doesn't yet understand what it truly means to endure.

He stepped out into the courtyard, where the moon cast a pale glow over the training dummies. The cold air was sharp but invigorating. Ryuji swung his blade in a slow, deliberate arc, feeling the flow of his breath match the movement. As he moved, his thoughts drifted to Tanjirou's future. A pillar at the very least, he mused. Maybe more, if he finds the strength to push past his limits.

His grip tightened. Despite his optimistic outlook, Ryuji knew the path ahead would not be easy for Tanjirou—or for any of them. The Demon Slayer Corps demanded everything of its warriors, often leaving little behind but memories of blood-soaked battles and fallen comrades.

Ryuji's gaze hardened. He would ensure Tanjirou never faced such battles alone. As long as he drew breath, he would stand by him. He owed that much to this family that had taken him in when he first arrived in this strange, perilous world.

With a final swing, Ryuji exhaled deeply and sheathed his blade. The tension that had clung to him since the mission finally began to ease. He glanced up at the stars, silent yet steadfast. "Rest well tonight, Tanjirou," he whispered. "Tomorrow, we'll take another step forward—together."

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Ryuji stepped quietly into the room, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound in the tranquil home. The scent of freshly brewed tea wafted through the air, mingling with the faint fragrance of lavender that lingered in the corners of the house. The room was tidy and clean, a testament to the care taken by the household.

On the bedside, Kamado Kie lay resting, her dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks, her body swathed in the soft glow of a paper lantern. Her hair was pinned up in a simple bun, though a few rebellious strands framed her delicate face. Ryuji's lips curved into a small smile as he approached, his steps light and measured.

Her posture betrayed her exhaustion; she must have waited for him for far too long, unwilling to give in to sleep. Without a word, he pulled a thin quilt from the nearby chest and draped it gently over her shoulders.

"You really shouldn't wait for me like this," he murmured, more to himself than to her. His voice was low, carried on the faint hum of the room.

Settling himself by the table, Ryuji poured a small cup of tea, the steam rising in delicate spirals. As he sipped, his gaze flicked back to Kie. Even in sleep, she exuded an air of quiet grace. Her pale skin, untouched by the sun, seemed almost luminescent against the soft fabric of her white dress. The hem swayed just above her ankles, revealing slender legs clad in simple white socks.

For a fleeting moment, Ryuji allowed himself to admire the tranquility of the scene, a rare respite from the constant battles that defined his life as a swordsman.

The tea grew cold as time passed, but Ryuji didn't mind. Eventually, Kie stirred. Her long lashes fluttered before her eyes opened, drowsy and unfocused at first. She stretched instinctively, a small sound escaping her lips as she shifted beneath the quilt. The movement caused the cover to slide off her shoulders, revealing the soft curve of her figure beneath the modest dress.

Ryuji's smile deepened as Kie turned her head, her gaze landing on him. Realizing he had been watching her, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She straightened immediately, smoothing her dress with trembling hands. Her head bowed slightly as she whispered, "Ryuji-sama."

He arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down. "Ryuji-sama?" he repeated, an amused glint in his eyes. "That's not the name I prefer, Kie."

Her blush deepened, and she glanced at him from beneath her lashes, her voice barely audible. "Master."

Ryuji leaned back, his expression softening. Rising to his feet, he crossed the room to her side. With practiced ease, he reached for the ribbon holding her hair in place. The red satin slipped free, allowing her ebony hair to cascade down her back like a midnight waterfall.

Kie's fingers twitched as she watched him, her lips parting slightly. "I… didn't notice when you came in," she said softly. "I must have fallen asleep."

"You've been waiting too long," he said gently, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Next time, don't push yourself. Just rest."

Kie shook her head, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her dress. "But… I wanted to wait for you. I didn't want you to return to an empty room."

Her earnest words stirred something in Ryuji's chest, though he kept his expression composed. "You're too kind," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "But for now, go take a bath. You've been sitting here far too long."

Kie hesitated, her gaze lingering on him. "But you haven't bathed yet. Shouldn't you—"

"Don't argue," he interrupted gently, his tone brooking no refusal. "Take your time. And… bring that new kimono I bought you. The pale pink one."

Her eyes widened, her blush returning in full force. Without another word, she turned and hurried toward the door, her movements flustered yet graceful. As she slid the door shut behind her, Ryuji chuckled softly to himself.

The house fell silent once more, save for the faint rustling of fabric and the distant sound of running water. Ryuji stretched out on the bed, one hand beneath his head as he gazed up at the ceiling. In the quiet of the night, his thoughts turned to the battles yet to come and the fleeting peace of this moment.

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