0. The 2 sides of a Coin

                                    

                                          
Tanjirou POV Age 3
From the moment I was born, I was raised by love. I was raised by affection. 
"Tanjirou! Please let's go watch your father" My mom said. We had been preparing this trip to go watch him, because he was doing one of his famous dance of the fire gods. I was too young last year to stay up and watch and stay up that long, but this year I made it my goal to stay up the entire time. My mom took my hand, guiding me toward a small circle of lamps, the snow beneath our feet shuffling 
"Pretty" I said looking at the lamps. I admired the way the fires danced around the lamps. I loved the way the fire managed to stay even though it was so cold. 
My father came out, in his red atire, with his face covered by some strange mask. "Why is daddy wearing that?" I asked my mom
"It's his ceremonial attire. He has to wear it to offer the Fire God a dance from sunset to sunrise to ward off threats and diseases" Kie informed Tanjirou. 
Tanjuro started moving. Tanjirou saw the wooden sword for the first time, it had many different blades sticking out of it, and had bells that jingled every time he swung the sword. He watched his father move and move. 
"Look Tanjirou" Kie knelt down closer to Tanjirou's ear. "Your dad is performing the Kagura dance, our family works with fire to protect us from injuries and diseases" She informed Tanjirou. 
"During the New Year, "
Tanjuro kept dancing, with every swing of the sword jingling the bells more and more. 
"Mommy. Dad's body isn't very strong, so how can he dance for so long in the snow?" Tanjirou asked. He looked at mom with curious eyes, before turning back to his dad. 
"If I did that. I think my lungs would freeze" Tanjirou followed along. 
"Fufu. It's a family secret. All the men do this as part of tradition. If you want, you can ask your father, and he'll tell you all the secrets of the Kagura dance." Kie answered. 
Tanjirou continued to look at his dad dance. 
Tanjuro's wooden sword struck through the air, the fire's on the lamsp seemingly sputtering and following his movement. Soon Tanjirou got colder, his hands getting colder as he blew into them with warm breath. He watched his dad, who didn't look tired, nor cold. 
"Amazing" Tanjirou said admiring his dad's ability. 
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"It's because I use breathing techniques" Tanjuro answered Tanjirou's question. "I use a special way of breathing so I never get tired no matter how hard it gets" 
"Breathing?" Tanjirou questioned. How could breathing make you never get tired?
"Yes. If you breathe the correct way, you will also be able to keep on dancing like me too, Tanjirou, without thinking of the cold"
"Tanjirou. These Hanafuda earings, and the Kagura are our family heirlooms. They must be handed down by generations. That's our promise" Tanjuro explained to Tanjirou. 
Tanjirou didn't understand it then, but the promise that Tanjuro was referring to. It wasn't a promise to their family members. It wasn't a promise to generations of the Kamado family. 
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It was a promise to a lonely swordsman.

Kanao POV
It's cold. "Argh" I shout as I got kicked in the stomach again. I'm tired. It hurts
Everything hurts. 
Sad days. Lonely days. Painful Days. Hollow Days.
From the moment I was born. I was raised by violence. Nobody wanted me, and I was raised in a world devoid of affection.
I sat there on the ground, unable to move from the spot. I'm hungry. My body couldn't move. I don't want to feel like this anymore. 
It was like something changed when I thought that... Because I couldn't feel pain from that point on. 
It was like something changed when I thought that... because I couldn't feel pain from that point on.
The world around me becomes a dull blur. The shouts, the blows, the cold—it all fades into a distant haze. My body should hurt, but it doesn't. I should be crying, but I'm not. It's too much to think about. 
It's as if something inside me has snapped, shutting off everything that made me feel human.
The days blend into one another. I barely eat, barely move. The hunger gnaws at me, but it's a distant ache, like something happening to someone else. 
It doesn't matter. 
I lie on the cold floor, staring at the ceiling, waiting for something—anything—to change.
One day, they sell me. Just like that. As if I were a piece of furniture they no longer needed. The man who buys me doesn't speak much. He just hands over some money and drags me away. I don't resist. I don't feel anything. Not fear, not sadness, not even relief. It's as if all my emotions have been locked away, leaving me hollow inside.
It doesn't matter. 
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This is a really short chapter. But I didn't have that many ideas concerning Tanjirou and Kanao's past. Sorry!