CHAPTER FOUR: WRITER AND ADVENTURER

❝ Descrate their sanctuaries. ❞

"𝕾𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒, 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 bloody this fast."

(name) perched on the branch of a tree, a twisted smile curling on her lips. A head rolled toward her, the gruesome sight barely fazing her. Her Kagune retreated, vanishing like burnt paper crumbling into the air.

A sea of bodies lay before her. A low chuckle bubbled in her throat. "What time is it, nine o'clock?" she mused, watching the sky just begin to lighten, the stars fading into the coming dawn.

"Poor little souls," (name) continued with a hint of amusement, "no wonder nothing ever survives."

She sprang down from the tree and began peeling away the bandages from her body—the cloth, the pink scarf, all of it—presenting herself before the dead. Now, bare, she took the clothes from the woman she had just killed, fresh and bloodless, and wrapped them around herself.

She wiped the blood from her cheeks and glasses with the remaining fabric, her expression souring.

"Smells like shit," she muttered, scrunching her nose. "Not ideal. They might mistake me for something else. Oh well, the fun was fun while it lasted."

She began walking toward the nearest Demon Slayer Corps' outpost, but as she drew closer, a chill crept through the air, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Ah... What happened here?" A voice resounded.

(name) turned around.

It was no other than a demon.

Morphed and shaped into cruelty and hopelessness. (name) licked her lips.

It looked around and saw the carnage before it. It was a male, hunched and with blue hair and ocean coloured skin. She tilted her head.

It was young.

So young, in fact, that it still had that innocent shine in their eyes, mismatched with the blood of a demon that was fed before him.

Her teeth chattered with excitement. It seemed like she have encountered one of the demons who were blind to what they are dealing with. Naive and narrow minded humans.

He still has a lot to know, a lot to dream.

And here he is, in front of her, all pumped up to defeat her or whatever. (name) sighed.

"May I ask-"

The demon jumped to its feet and turned his head to the voice. His stance became guarded now that there was an unwanted presence.

He was probably "admiring" the piece that she did. The body was so densely packed that it seemed as if it had completely covered the green grass.

It left him aghast. "—You! You did this—?"

"Pardon my mess. I am quite the messy person. Indecisive if you want to add to that," (name) smiled. But it did not calm down the demon quite a bit.

"I guess I must ask you a question. Answer this and you can live free—"

"Are you a demon?"

"I was asking the questions here," she pouted, closing her eyes and knitting her brow in mock frustration.

"I suppose I'm not... Think of it this way: I'm much superior to you, and you'll never come close to my level! How does that sound?"

She watched the demon, who stood there, guarded and confused. From the way she spoke, he'd likely believe she was a higher-ranking demon, if he wasn't completely oblivious.

But there was something more lurking beneath her words. No one knew a ghoul like her existed. Hell, she didn't even know if there were others like her.

"But no, I am not a demon..." she said, laughing softly.

"For years, you haven't told me what she actually is."

Yushiro followed Tamayo as she descended into the underground library. The basement was dim, with a tinge of orange warmth, but the atmosphere remained cold, like the chill of a forgotten truth.

When they had found (name), she was young—standing amidst a blood-drenched massacre. It seemed as if carnage was her default environment, and Yushiro had lived alongside her long enough to witness the destructive side of her nature. Unlike demons who could control their hunger for days, (name) feasted relentlessly—on every single moon—and that was being generous.

Yushiro knew Tamayo was aware of this, but she never turned her gaze. She simply watched (name), as a mother might gaze at her child—calm, detached, yet perceptive.

And that gaze, that understanding, was only present when they were safe inside their home.

Yushiro had followed her at the start of the hunt, though he regretted it the moment (name) laid eyes on her first victim of the night. He remembered her as a lost girl—rugged, curious, and imaginative.

But time had turned her into something far more dangerous, something as big as him. The memories of her, too, grew larger and darker with each passing moment.

In truth, Yushiro had never harbored personal resentment toward her. His dislike for her stemmed only from the way she occasionally treated Tamayo.

Tamayo, standing by the bookshelves, grazed her fingers over the spines of the worn volumes. "She's not a creature of the night, not like how she chooses others to see her," she said softly, almost as if to herself.

She continued, her tone steady, "She doesn't wreak havoc specifically on the weak, nor does she need to bring misery to them for power."

"What (name) chooses to do and who she is are two different things," Tamayo's gaze flickered with a faraway look, "But who her species is—that's another piece to her being."

She pulled out an old book, its pages weathered and brown with age. The words weren't typewritten, but handwritten in ink, delicate strokes of a feathered quill. She turned the pages until she reached one marked with an intricate sketch. There, drawn in dark ink, was an image of what appeared to be a human figure, but with octopus-like tendrils sprouting from its back. The eyes were hauntingly drawn, with black ink shading the iris.

"She's a ghoul."

Yushiro's eyes widened in shock.

Tamayo's gaze remained steady as she continued, "Those tendrils are a part of her. Her skin is impervious to metal. Even a Nichirin sword cannot harm her."

A sense of dread settled heavily in Yushiro's stomach. "Tell me, what can?"

Tamayo's gaze shifted to him. "Only a higher power would truly know. Demons may try, but that's not all she possesses."

"When she was young, her strength was already extraordinary. She could leap from building to building, her tendrils moving with such speed that only the trained eye could catch them. And, of course, her endurance and resistance to pain."

Yushiro trembled, his hands shaking uncontrollably as the weight of Tamayo's words settled in. There was a being like her—her—living in their home all this time? How could he have missed it? Had she been here all along, quietly growing, hidden in plain sight, concealed by the calm facade she maintained? The thought sent a chill through his spine, and a flood of questions filled his mind. How had he failed to notice the presence of something so extraordinary, so dangerous? What else was she hiding?

Even though his doubts had been answered, a deeper, darker truth began to unravel itself within him. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together, but the image it formed was not one he could easily digest. The unsettling realization that someone as powerful and unpredictable as her had been part of their world—was a part of their world—left him on edge. Every instinct screamed that something more sinister lurked beneath the surface. The truth wasn't just uncomfortable; it was terrifying.

And now he understood why Tamayo was so fond of her. Yushiro's gaze lingered on Tamayo's back as she continued to tend to her brews, the delicate sound of the mixing liquid almost soothing in the otherwise tense silence. He had always known Tamayo to be a figure of great compassion, often extending warmth and care to those around her, even in the darkest of circumstances. But with her, it was different. There was an unspoken connection, an understanding between them that Yushiro couldn't quite grasp. It was as if Tamayo saw something in the girl, something more than the terrifying power she wielded, more than the bloodshed she'd been a part of.

—

(name) dropped the truth without warning.

But from the corner of her eye, she caught the slightest quiver of his lips, and her eyes widened just a fraction.

Her expression softened. She had been alive for what felt like an eternity. She was practically in her mid-twenties now but her life have lived for more than a hundred, having encountered countless demons throughout her life. Yet none had ever dared to try and devour her—she always struck first, before they could. In her earlier years, she had seen demons as nothing more than twisted humans. But over time, those views had started to shift.

Because that one fateful day, when she finally learned how demons came into existence, it was far more horrific than the birds and the bees.

Maybe they were just unlucky?

Maybe others had been unfair to them?

Maybe they only needed a nudge in the right direction?

She had pondered these questions for so long, trying to make sense of it all.

But deep down, she knew the truth hiding behind those lingering doubts. All of her life, she had been asking herself the same questions, yet the answers remained elusive, always just out of reach.

She stepped forward, closing the distance between them. The man flinched, immediately adopting a fighting stance.

Frustration flickered across his face as confusion gripped him. "What do you mean you're not a demon? Only a demon would massacre everyone without a shred of pity! If you were any kind of demon slayer, I'd believe you, but look around—there's no trace of demons here, just living people!"

She sighed, her gaze softening. "You poor child..."

"Huh?" The demon staggered back, his blue face a mix of rage and fear.

He was half her size.

She placed a hand gently on his head, her fingers grazing the cool skin. "You shouldn't have become one of them. And yet, here you are," she murmured, her voice softer now. "Tell me, little one, did life beat you too hard? Did fate take a toll on you? Did you seek revenge? Are you consumed with anger?"

The demon didn't know what to expect.

He thought she was just another one of those humans who liked to toy with him. But now, with those words, he was unsure of everything.

She was a confusing enigma.

But why were tears suddenly streaming down his face?

"Stop it," he stammered, his voice shaking. "Don't look at me with those eyes."

He fell to his knees, covering his face, as if trying to hide from the very emotions she had awakened in him.

Just as she had suspected, he was a newly turned demon. Weak, unsure, and unable to fully grasp his new powers to protect himself. She glanced at the lifeless bodies surrounding them.

"My, my, what do we have here?" she said coolly, her gaze drifting over the carnage.

A voice interrupted her thoughts, and the two turned to see a figure dressed in black, adorned with white details along the edges. His stance was confident, almost arrogant, as he approached them.

Her eyes landed on the weapon at his waist. She blinked lazily, unfazed. It didn't interest her.

The man unsheathed his blade, his grin wide and sure. "You're a demon, correct?" he said, eyeing the sea of bodies at her feet, each one a testament to her handiwork. Their faces frozen in terror.

He took a step closer, but it was already too late. 

Her Kagune shot forward, a sharp object flying directly into his chest.

His eyes rolled back into his head as he crumpled to the ground, still shrieking in pain, his body already slick with blood.

She watched, her grin widening as the man's cries continued, each scream more disturbing than the last. Even as the blood pooled around him, he screamed, and the sound sent a shiver of delight through her.

Yes, she was a sadist. But who could blame her? The chaos, the terror—it was a beautiful thing to witness.

Himura chuckled softly as she turned to the trembling boy, her voice light and mocking, though there was an underlying edge to it. "I don't blame you for thinking I'm cruel. But when people need to realize their potential, sometimes you need to dig beneath the surface."

Her tone was casual, almost as if everything were a joke. She leaned in slightly, a cruel smile tugging at her lips as the boy's voice faltered.

Get it?

The demon gasped, his body shuddering at the realization. He was shaking next to her, unable to find the right words.

"What's your name, demon?" she asked, her voice sharp now, devoid of humor.

His voice trembled as he stuttered, "G-... Genji..."

She chuckled again, the sound cold and devoid of warmth. She turned away from him, walking as though she had already lost interest.

"Good luck on being a demon, Genji. Have a safe dead life ahead of you," she said nonchalantly, pausing just a moment before adding, "You weren't really a good victim."

Without another glance, she cracked her knuckles, the sound sharp in the air, before she continued walking away, the flick of her fingers brushing lightly against her legs.

Genji stood there, frozen in place, his mind reeling. Her words lingered in his head, relentless, haunting. He couldn't shake them, couldn't forget the coldness in her voice.

2nd POV

Meanwhile, Tanjirou, Zenitsu, and Inosuke were off to fight another demon. With them was their newly befriended Hashira, Kyoujurou Rengoku, the Flame Hashira, whose fiery spirit contrasted sharply with their more erratic personalities. Together, they set off toward their next battle, though little did they know, their paths were about to cross with someone very different.

At the same time, (name) strolled through the Ubuyashiki estate, her smirk barely concealed beneath her glasses. She wore the haori of the slain demon slayer, her fingers adjusting the glasses perched on her nose as she admired the beauty of the wisteria flowers lining the path. It was an eerie contrast to the darkness of her past, a reminder of what she was capable of—a demon who walked the line between life and death, indifferent to the suffering she caused.

Her presence was a quiet storm in the making, a calm before the chaos. What she had done, and what she was about to do, had a ripple effect waiting to unfold.

Shinobu paused, her expression carefully neutral as she examined the stranger before her. (name)'s presence was unsettling, yet there was something strangely magnetic about it. It was as though she exuded an aura of calm that, despite its oddity, made Shinobu feel a sense of familiarity. The way (name)'s eyes half-lidded in apparent exhaustion, yet her gaze lingered on the Wisteria flowers as if they held some sort of hidden meaning, struck Shinobu as peculiar. It was as if the woman had found something peaceful in the flowers that few others could see.

(name)'s voice broke the silence. "Oh hello! Sorry for coming here." Her tone was apologetic, but there was no real apology behind it, more of a gentle curiosity. "Uhm, is this the Ubuyashiki estate?"

Shinobu's smile remained as her eyes narrowed slightly, but she answered with a light-hearted tone, "I would be in a lot of trouble if I answered that."

(name)'s gaze softened as she seemed to reflect on the words, a small, thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Well, everyone's filled with questions today. Even the last boy I met on the way here."

Shinobu's brows furrowed subtly. The boy? Her mind raced, wondering if the boy (name) spoke of could be someone involved with the demon slayers. If that was the case, then (name) was a more dangerous presence than she had first assumed. Shinobu's hand rested lightly on her hilt as she watched the woman closely, trying to decide how to proceed.

"Is there a reason why you're here, or are you just lost?" Shinobu's voice remained calm, but there was a sharp edge to it now, knowing that this encounter wasn't a mere coincidence. (name) wasn't the type to wander into places like this without a purpose.

(name) blinked, her eyes widening slightly as she gave a sheepish laugh. "Oh! Then I'm in the right place! My name is (name) (last name). Pleasure to meet you." She bowed, her movements fluid and graceful, almost as if she was accustomed to acting this way.

Shinobu waited for her to rise, her gaze unblinking, studying (name)'s every move, trying to piece together who this woman was. Despite her polite demeanor, there was something off about her—something Shinobu couldn't quite place, but it unsettled her nonetheless.

(name), seemingly noticing the silence, took the initiative and extended her hand, a small notebook and pen in the other. "I'm a writer and an adventurer. If you're kind enough to serve, I would love to know more about your organization. I've only heard of it from the outside." She blushed slightly, her eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. "And you're so pretty, too. I would be honored to interview a Hashira like you."

Shinobu's smile didn't waver, but her sharp eyes observed the woman more carefully now. A writer and an adventurer? The thought seemed so innocuous, but Shinobu couldn't ignore the feeling that something deeper was at play. No one had just stumbled upon the Ubuyashiki estate unless they had some kind of connection. (name)'s innocence seemed too calculated to be genuine.

Shinobu didn't reach for the offered hand right away. She simply stood there, her eyes lingering on (name)'s face, weighing the situation carefully. Her mind was alert, processing every detail. (name)'s confidence in being able to speak so casually about such sensitive matters was telling. And yet, there was something about her—an odd calmness, a strange ease that Shinobu couldn't shake. It was unsettling in its familiarity.

"You've found this place," Shinobu began, her voice cool and deliberate. "But how? It's not easy for just anyone to wander here." Her expression softened into a delicate smile, though her thoughts were far from gentle. "That's what bothers me. Someone like you shouldn't have found this place so easily."

(name) blinked, as if the words hadn't fully registered, but her calm demeanor didn't falter. "Maybe it's just luck?" she suggested with a playful shrug, her gaze never leaving Shinobu's.

Shinobu's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her instincts telling her this was no coincidence. Something about (name) felt wrong, though everything on the surface suggested otherwise. She was too composed, too calm, and yet there was something almost eerily familiar in her gaze—a subtle emptiness lurking just beneath the surface.

"You're not a demon," Shinobu muttered to herself, but even as she said it, she wasn't fully convinced. There was too much about this woman that didn't add up.

The tension in the air thickened, and Shinobu knew she had to be careful. (name) was not to be underestimated.

(name)'s eyes flickered momentarily, noticing the subtle shift in Shinobu's expression as she processed her words. The slight twitch of Shinobu's eye told her everything she needed to know: the Hashira was growing suspicious. (name), however, remained unfazed, her smile never leaving her lips. On the outside, she appeared as calm as ever, but inside, she couldn't help but find amusement in the tension she was weaving. It was almost adorable how Shinobu tried to maintain her composed exterior, when it was clear she was starting to crack under the pressure.

It's a shame, (name) thought, she doesn't know who she's dealing with.

Before Shinobu could voice her doubts, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. (name) tilted her head slightly, glancing over to see the source of the voice.

"Shinobu? Nice seeing you here," the deep, resonant voice called out.

They both turned to see a towering figure approaching them. A man whose sheer presence seemed to command the space around him. His strong build, complemented by various accessories, made it clear he was not someone to be taken lightly. His black-and-white uniform, adorned with gold rings on his arms and a shinobi-style headband wrapped around his forehead, was enough to signal his affiliation with the Demon Slayer Corps. The white jewels decorating the headband caught the light as he moved, giving him an air of regality.

(name)'s eyes narrowed slightly, studying the newcomer. His hair was white and pulled back into a ponytail, his red eyes piercing through the air, set against a striking red tattoo that marked his face. The tattoo seemed to pulse with an intensity that mirrored his eyes, making it obvious that this was someone powerful.

He stood confidently, his hand resting casually on his hip, as if he were accustomed to commanding attention. His gaze shifted between Shinobu and (name), clearly intrigued by the unfamiliar presence.

Shinobu, ever the composed one, let her smile return, though it was now a little more guarded. "Rengoku," she greeted, her voice smooth and welcoming despite the undercurrent of tension. "I didn't expect you to be here."

(name) didn't say a word, instead allowing her eyes to settle on Rengoku with quiet interest. She could sense the shift in the atmosphere, the way his presence had an immediate effect on Shinobu. Clearly, this was no ordinary demon slayer. (name)'s mind raced, calculating the potential of this new development.

She had already assessed Shinobu—calm, calculating, a woman who wouldn't easily be swayed. But Rengoku? There was something different about him. His very aura seemed to vibrate with a fiery intensity, a direct contrast to her own.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Rengoku's voice was firm, a sense of authority lacing his words as he directed his attention to (name).

(name) finally broke her silence, her lips curling into a smile that was both polite and enigmatic. "I was just asking Shinobu about the Demon Slayer Corps," she said, her voice light and playful, though there was a hidden sharpness beneath the surface. "It seems there's much I could learn, but perhaps I've overstayed my welcome?"

Rengoku's eyes narrowed slightly, not quite believing the innocent tone she was presenting. His instincts were sharp, and he could tell there was something off about this encounter. But for now, he chose to remain polite, his gaze never leaving (name).

"Are you here to seek information, or do you have other motives?" Rengoku asked, his voice even but carrying an underlying weight of suspicion.

(name) chuckled softly, the sound almost teasing as she tilted her head. "You're a perceptive one, aren't you? Perhaps I am here for something more than just information. But I assure you, I mean no harm."

Her smile remained, but something about the way she spoke left Rengoku feeling uncertain. This woman—(name) (last name)—was playing a game he didn't quite understand yet, and the feeling unsettled him. He wasn't the type to let his guard down easily, and neither was Shinobu. Yet, despite the strange and uncomfortable atmosphere she created, (name) was a puzzle neither of them could quite figure out.

Shinobu's gaze flickered briefly to Rengoku, then back to (name). "I'm sure we'll find out in time, won't we?" she replied, her voice smooth, hiding the wariness beneath her words.

(name) gave a nonchalant shrug, her eyes gleaming with something unfathomable. "Indeed, we will."

And with that, the tension lingered, thick in the air, as the three stood there, each with their own thoughts swirling in their minds.