For the next few days Y/N did nothing but sulk in bitter thought.

The Infinity Castle, albeit large and mysterious, was the perfect place for her to gather her thoughts. For hours on end she would sit, watching time tick by in utterly slow seconds – no one came to bother her, and she went to bother no one. No demon or person had crossed ways with her for what seemed like eternity. She intended to keep it like that; living in not confinement, but solitude.

Sentence after sentence of the conversation she had with Akaza haunted her mind every day as she mulled upon the harsh reality that it had shed light on: her brother was a demon. A demon. The very creatures his breathing style had sworn to eradicate.

With this brought unanswered questions. Many more unanswered questions. Why? How?

How foolish of me, she thought angrily, recalling the excitement in her heart when she had witnessed those memories. That, too, was another mystery. How foolish of me to think that talking to Akaza would help bring me even a little closer to the truth. All it's done is make me feel even further away from it. And to add salt to the wound, now I have a million holes in this world's story to fill.

She was lost again, she knew – just like before. Intertwined threads of reality seemed to be completely disentangling at this very moment, ripping away whatever shreds of previous reality remained. Problems, worries and questions occupied every single thought she had, but most of all, a visceral fear that everything she had ever known was a lie.

Her brother was a demon. He was friends with Akaza, an Upper Moon: the very demon she had watched kill Rengoku. And then amidst all of that, before he died at the hands of his own kind, he had made a breathing style. She was in the Infinity Castle, the demons' base, miles and miles away from the welcoming minka of the Demon Slayer Corps. And Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke – they had no clue where she was. Everything was in shambles. Everything was complicated. Everything was confusing. And worst of all, she was no closer to understanding this world. It messed with her head.

But what messed with her head even more so was such a horrible, backstabbing thought that she could not bring herself to voice.  Yet it lay, deep inside the realms of her mind, lingering like spoiled honey.

The divide between demons and humans was a barrier, so impassible and so prominent; two sides of a gold coin. When flipped, the coin would always lay in favor of the Demon Slayers: glorious, honored, humanity's most prized saviors. No one, perhaps not even the delusional, would ever think of the demons as morally right. They were emotionless killers. History told its tales, and in every one, demons were painted in a villainous light.

But then why did Akaza act differently in the memories she had saw? Why did he act human? She recalled it vividly, a genuine smile passed between two young boys. Their own little fight against the conditions they had been forced to suffer through.

Was Akaza truly a coldblooded murderer with no love for anything except for death if he harbored such a strong trust for an ex-demon slayer?

Perhaps the demons were more human than she had thought... but those were thoughts strictly against the order of the Demon Slayer Corps.

She wiped the thoughts away, disgusted with herself for going against the beliefs of an organization that had taken her in and cared for her like one of their own.

The girl let out a sigh, allowing herself to lay on the cold floor of the Infinity Fortress's rooms. Oh, there were so many things to worry about: the loyalties of her brother, his death, the true nature of the demon race. Her eyelids drooped, but she didn't try to force them open this time. She closed her eyes.

That night, while Y/N L/N slept, the stars twinkled above in an encouraging reminder to keep going.

♱

This world is hazy and discolored. It's another memory in the form of a dream.

"That's vile, Douma,"  a voice groans. Akaza.

"No, no, listen to me," another voice interrupts – most likely 'Douma's'. "It's good."

"Who the hell eats limbs with ketchup? You guys are all weird." Female laughter cuts through the room, but it is not sharp or mocking.

"I did not mean for this to happen," a third voice enters the conversation, oddly familiar. "I thought introducing you guys to ketchup would add more flavor to fries. Until I realized demons can't eat fries."

"You can't either, L/N. You aren't one to talk," Akaza grins.

"Thanks for introducing me to ketchup regardless, though," Douma speaks up again. "From now on I'll be sure to carry a bottle of ketchup wherever I go."

"You will be severely judged in public."

"I'm a demon, Daki. I'll be judged either way."

Akaza carefully tries a bit of the ketchup.

"It's not bad, right? Tell Daki she has horrible taste."

"Anyone who sees what you wear on a daily basis is enough to make them cry!" 'Daki' shrieks.

There is more laughter.

♱

Y/N could've sworn she heard her brother laugh right in front of her as she awoke from a memory-like dream for the second time. Which was odd in itself already.

What made it odder was when she recalled what she had thought of as she drifted away into slumber: how much humanity demons really possessed. The dream was related to it, purposely showing her a happy memory that showed her that Upper Moons were capable of living slightly human-like lives.

It was as if whoever was showing these to her wanted to tell her something.