The first night was cold, not temperature-wise but just in how Doma felt. The outside world seemed to lose its shine when he had no one to share it with. Well, not no one but Gyomei wasn't exactly the warming presence Doma had grown used to. He was stoic, firm in his ways and his style; Doma was pretty sure he knew the type.

At first, it was nothing but each watching the other. Doma tried to get a feel for how far Gyomei wanted him to intervene, how comfortable he was with demon arts. It seemed he didn't have to intervene much at all. As the days went by, he grew used to the demon slayer's presence, his methods, and his terrifying efficiency.

The mission was to investigate a supposed 'nest' of demons. Four slayers had gone in; of high ranks, not yet hashira, but only two steps below. None had come back. The crows had vanished too which was also worrisome.

They were walking in blind. Doma wasn't necessarily concerned that they wouldn't be able to handle it, just off-put that there was no information. It could be a group on the same power level as Rui's family, in which case Doma could destroy them all with ease. Or...

Or it could be Upper Moons. It could be Muzan himself.

"You're unwell," Gyomei observed as the crow above them called out how close they were to their destination.

An abandoned town, just a bit off the road. It smelled of moss and organic decay. There was no suffocating assault of coppery blood and steel.

"Unwell?" Doma echoed, staring at the shadowed houses in the starry light. It was a new moon tonight and so the world was at its darkest, but the stars were brilliant.

"Tense." The stone Pillar looked at him with neither concern nor judgment, he was... for the lack of a better term, stone-faced.

"I'm... I don't know what I am," Doma answered honestly. Nervous? No, he was confident that whatever it was wouldn't be enough to kill him. Wary? of what? No... he was just unsettled. And he couldn't figure out why.

"It's normal before a conflict," Gypomei soothed. "I myself feel uneasy, especially since we know so little. It is that caution that keeps us alive, I assume it would be similar for a demon."

Doma managed a heartless laugh; "You'd be surprised."

"Are you not usually nervous?"

"Oh - no, I feel like I'm always nervous now," Doma denied, watching the crow above carefully as the bird flew ahead to scout. "It feels like I'm nothing but worried now. I never used to be."

"Is that a bad thing?" Gyomei asked it warily as he took heavier strides towards the town, readying his weapon.

"Not at all," Doma denied quickly. "It's just... never easy to get used to."

To that, Gyomei did laugh. "No... no, it doesn't."

Then, the stone pillar froze, tilting his head to better listen to something. Doma froze as well, moving nothing as he let the hashira listen. Without a heartbeat or the need to breathe, the silence around him stretched out wide and far. 

There was no wind. The crickets hummed at a distance... but nothing else disturbed the night. Gyomei's heartbeat echoed in Doma's ears as well as the controlled, deep breathing of the hashira, but the rest of the night was dead silent.

"Strange..." Gyomei murmured after a long moment.

"What?" Doma asked softly.

"I thought I heard someone playing an instrument," Gyomei explained. "A shamisen, perhaps? No... "

"Was it a demon?" Doma asked, the air growing frigid as it left his lungs, his body readying for a fight.

"I am not sure... I hear nothing now."

"I don't smell anything either," Doma denied. "No bodies, no blood... no demons."

"Let us continue then."

"I could be a trap," Doma offered simply. Not that a trap would do much against the two of them. he'd seen Gyomei in action as they faced a few demons on their travel, and an old part of him was relieved he had never met the hashira a few decades ago.

It wouldn't have ended well for him, and he admitted that readily. He was not so egotistical as to believe in his own strength so readily.

"Then a trap we will spring," Gyomei stated simply.

So down they waltzed to the small village between the hills. Mice skittered into run-down attics, rats perused the streets, and a few feral cats raced away from the two humanoids and took shelter beneath houses or in the thick grass. An owl hooted in the distance as the silence of the night stretched out beyond it.

Doma's senses were all on full alert, his eyes darting to everything that moved, the air crystalizing around his fingers when a rat scrambled away from him - sensing the demonic aura that an ex-upper moon would carry.

"The animals have not fled," Gyomei murmured. "Perhaps the demons have moved on."

"Perhaps they were never here," Doma supposed, staring into a dilapidated house. "Maybe the slayers never made it this far, or were ambushed further back."

"...Perhaps..." Gyomei didn't sound convinced, and truly neither was Doma.

Something was different, he just couldn't figure out what it was. Something felt... raw... exposed... dangerous.

And then he heard it. The unmistakable sound. The twang that came with nails on a biwa, that rung through space near unfathomable.

To their left, one of the house's doors slid open, slamming against its frame and bringing them both into a defensive pose. 

It was the smell that hit him first. Wretched, rotten, reeking of demonic presence and death baked into its walls. Never had it repulsed him before but now, after so long among the sweet air of flowers and sun-baked wood, it was disgusting. If Doma had been mortal, he may have retched at the mere sight of hell, even if he could suffocate under the smell.

The infinity fortress. 

It was an unmistakable room, identical to all others in Muzan's domain. The walls seemed to open before Doma, inviting him to a poisoned web, beckoning him into the room and the balcony beyond that doubtlessly overlooked the rest of the stowed-away purgatory.

 And there, in the center of the room, staining the tatami mats, was a slayer, laying in their own blood. A second passed, then another... and nothing happened.

"What is it?" Gyomei demanded sharply. "I can sense the body but... but where it lays... It feels... wrong."

That's right... Gyomei didn't see it.

Doma opened his mouth to explain, then closed it. Words were failing him as his body temperature plummeted, ice crystallizing at his fingertips. The smell, the sight, the sound - it was all silent now as the aura of demons flooded into the little down, not a bug stirred as it all froze in inexplicable terror.

What was it doing? Why open a door for them? It was very clearly a trap - but was it meant for them? Surely Muzan knew Doma would rather die than get lured back into that hell. Well, not die. He'd prefer avoiding that entire scenario.

Surely Muzan didn't expect Doma to fall for such a simple trap?

Maybe it wasn't meant for them.

Was this how they had caught the other slayers? Set bait and lure slayers into the fortress, locking them in. Oh gods, getting locked in those doors as a mortal, having no idea where you were or what had happened. While the thought struck empathetic terror into his bones, the more logical side of him stayed wary. 

Why would Muzan allow his fortress to be used like this? Usually, the demon lord guarded his domain jealously, even the thought of betraying the safety of his sanctuary could get someone beheaded. Why would Muzan suddenly use his nest as a trap?

Was this... 

"It's you..." oh gods, the slayer was alive.

Gyomei moved quickly and stepped into the -

"Do not!" Doma warned running to the door to hold them open less they locked the slayer in there. Without any knowledge of that hell, Gyomei would undoubtedly be stranded. The hashira strode in regardless.

"What happened?" Gyomei stopped before the girl who lay there, her legs smashed beyond recognition.

"It's... a hashira... they... they're fucked now... you'll kill em'... you'll do it -" she wasn't lucid, it seemed as if she barely had enough strength to lift her head to look at Gyomei.

"This is - this is the infinity fortress. Gyomei you must get out!" Doma hissed. He braced himself to hear the biwa but silence reigned supreme it seemed.

"This?" Gyomei echoed, his voice radiating with something torn between awe and rage.

"Yes!" Doma pleaded. "Now get out of there!"

Gyomei picked up the slayer who lay still and limp in his arms like a broken doll, her chest rising and falling ever so slowly.

"This is Muzan's domain," Gyomei didn't seem to be talking to Doma anymore. He must've been taking in the suffocating aura of the dimension, for he was too still, too silent. Doma strained to even make out his heartbeat.

"This is not a place to meddle with, we must -"

"SURPRISE!" The new voice came from above and behind him. Doma's already near-shot nerves fired as his senses came alive. A twist of his feet and a vicious slash outward with his fans later, there was a wall of spiked ice that had skewered the demon trying to sneak up on him.

That would teach her not to sneak up on a near-panicked Upper Moon. He may have gone a bit overboard.

But, there were more - Gyomei had his spiked flail at the ready, and Doma's senses tingled as whatever blood art had kept all these foes hidden died away.

The demon impaled on ice gasped, her eyes bulging in her head as she recognized Doma. Her body was twisted and skewed a number of times, her body trying to heal around the ice which resulted in her simply writhing in her escape attempts.

"SHIT! SHIT, IT'S THE TRAITOR! SHIT!" she scrambled, trying to rip herself off the ice, her claws hardly scratching its surface.

So they weren't expecting Doma... this wasn't a trap for him!

"Time to die slayer - FUCK " Doma looked over his shoulder to see that Gyomei was facing ten - no eight demons. The other two just turned into splatters on the wall.

Like a giant of pure fury, the Stone Pillar spun his flail around, crushing the demons around him with terrifying ease. Even the demon trapped with an ice spike through her torso stopped struggling to watch in morbid horror as the hashira massacred the demons in mere moments.

And then Doma heard it; it rang through the air and he could literally feel the weight of Nakime's gaze fall on them. She knew they were there - she knew. That meant -

The biwa called out its cry of death and a door opened beneath Gyomei's feet. He lept to avoid it before the room itself turned sideways.

"Doma!" the slayer called and without any more warning, he tossed the injured girl to Doma who had to scramble to catch her.

She was so light. Doma knew well enough how delicate humans were and this one definitely needed help. But -

"Get out!" Doma demanded of the Hashira whose balance was likely ruined by the shifting room. The hashira leaped off a wall and nearly made it to the door when the room shifted. It turned on a new side, making Doma feel like he was looking down into the infinity fortress causing him all sorts of horrifying vertigo. Gyomei began falling, gravity suddenly working against him in a way that couldn't have been pleasant for someone who couldn't see the change, and Doma acted.

Gyomei was only a few feet away... he could... he could do something.

He cradled the girl in one arm and tried to reach in, just to try and grab the hashira before he plummeted too far into hell. He trusted the gravity that held his feet on the pleasant familiar earth. He trusted his reaction time. 

The door slammed shut and his trust shattered with his bones.

With strength the door shouldn't have possessed - with strength Nakime shouldn't have possessed, the door slammed shut and Doma felt himself get cut in two.

The pain was jarring, biting - it had been so long since he'd been injured so grievously, but the terror was worse.

Because suddenly he was falling, suddenly he lacked two legs, a part of his lower torso, and as the cherry on top, he was plummeting into the infinity fortress. Gyomei threw his axe at the door, perhaps trying to hook it to the wood. The girl in Doma's arms was still miraculously in one piece but wouldn't be soon if they hit the oncoming balcony.

His breath turned to ice as he poured his energy into regrowing his legs, summoning his blood demon art to form what may have counted for a slide beneath him. Landing firmly and balanced, he slid down until his newly-grown feet were firmly on solid ground, the air around him freezing as panic frosted his blood.

Gyomei landed a bit heavier, but also on his feet. His axe found no place to hook and fell back to the hashira's hands.

They didn't get a chance to catch their breath. The balcony they were on suddenly turned sideways at another strum of the biwa. The windows shifted, doors opened, and walls rose up around them as a pit formed beneath their feet that were sliding off the wood.

"She's trying to trap us!" Doma warned. 

Nakime was stronger - immensely stronger. To move so much of the fortress at once was terrifyingly efficient. Muzan must've given her more blood, perhaps even promoted her. Was she a moon now? An Upper Moon even!?

She was likely trying to get them to fall deep within the fortress, where there were no doors to the outside world, no methods of escape, Doma felt his lungs freeze as he flung out his free hand and dug his nails into the now vertical balcony, forcing himself to a screeching halt. Gyomei did something similar with his axe and the two dangled there staring into the abyss.

"What do we do?" Gyomei demanded. "Where is the demon responsible?"

"We'll never find her!" Doma bit back. His mind raced with methods of escape, quickly calculating just how quickly a demon could ascend the ranks and how strong Nakime could've become. He was the target, he was certain of that... was Gyomei a convenient second bird for this stone? Or was he a bump in the plan. 

Did it even matter in the end; only one thing truly consumed Doma's mind.

"We need to get out - this is his domain." He said it, prayed it, trembled as he spoke it...

"How?" Gyomei sounded strangely calm in the face of all this - maybe it helped that he couldn't see the hellish maze all around them, then again, maybe that made this all worse for him.

"We find a door to the outside world -"

Another strum. Gravity was suddenly shifting the opposite way, causing them both to slam upward (downward? what way was up? Where had they come from?). Doma's back cracked against some sort of ceiling as he fell... up?

He got to his feet quickly, but the entire world twisted sideways and he was sent flying again. He caught himself this time, landing on some sort of wall and taking a breath. And then it continued, over and over again. Thank god he couldn't get dizzy, but he wasn't sure if he could say the same for Gyomei, or the girl in his arm.

Left, Right, upside down, forward, down, back, around. Finally, he landed near some threshold that let him into a square room and he scrambled inside where the rotations mattered little.

"Gyomei!?" He called as he pressed himself against the wall.

"I am well!" Gyomei called back from somewhere outside. The world shifted again and Doma reacted accordingly. It was so much nicer to be in an enclosed space when the entire world shifted to the right, he could just do a little hop to the wall-turned floor or vice versa.

"The infinity fortress has a constant number of doors to the outside world!" Doma explained quickly. "The demon who does this, Nakime, can't close those portals, but she can rearrange them and decide where they lead. We have to find one and get out before she moves it."

"Is that possible with her being so focused on us?" Gyomei demanded as the world shifted twice more.

Doma landed heavily on the ceiling and hissed. "Probably not."

"Then we need to start by slaying her," the hashira suddenly appeared at the threshold. "We are in the nest of the devil - a place slayers only ever dream of reaching. The things we can destroy in this place - the dreams of so many slayers -"

"This is a place best reserved for nightmares," Doma retorted, venom as he spat truth. "This is not something we can take on by ourselves... especially if he is here."

Another rotation. He almost choked on his own words... if he was here... Brilliant red eyes bore through his memories and the invasive thoughts ate his mind like maggots in a corpse.

"We have waited centuries for the chance to do this... we must take this opportunity," Gyomei urged.

"We must focus on escape - the longer we're here the more likely we are to be trapped eternally. Then you will be of no help to your slayer cause! We must survive this!" Doma cried.

"We may never get another chance!"

"This human is dying," Doma reminded him of the slayer whose iron-tinted scent of blood was strangling him nearly as much as the fear was. "And we will do the same if we stay here."

He wouldn't do that - not to Kotoha. He wouldn't die to idiocy... absolutely not. He wouldn't leave her to a lonely room, a lonely world, suffering a fate she never deserved...

Gyomei stared at him well... it felt like the hashira stared at him but it was just as likely that the man was thinking. About what?

Did he think Doma was a coward? Or worse... did he think Doma was trying to protect Muzan's secrets... or did he sense the desperation in Doma's heart, the way the demon felt he may melt away in terror should much else happen.

"Very well" Gyomei gave a small nod as he pulled his flail close. "We focus on escape, but we must slay this... Nakime first. Is this acceptable?"

"Yes," Doma breathed in relief, simply happy that the hashira wasn't demanding they hunt down Muzan himself.

"Good, then let us seek out this demon," Gyomei leaped off the threshold, cracking the floorboards beneath his feet as he did so. Doma held the dying slayer closer and took off after him as the world spun again, listening to her weak but present heartbeat.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Alright, alright - Gyutaro would admit it. He didn't know shit about teaching. Miku was doing something wrong but fuck him if he knew. She kept... overreaching. At first, he thought she was leaning into her blows too much, but no, she was doing the same thing he did. Her balance was solid. Her footwork then, no... she looked well-rooted when she struck, she just lost her balance somehow.

He rubbed the back of his head and sighed as she looked up at him with those damn inquisitive eyes that expected him to know what to fix.

"I don't know kid, I can't figure it out," he admitted.

She huffed and looked back to the training sword in hand. "I'm gonna figure it out."

Gyutaro couldn't help but laugh at her serious expression. "'Course you are, I'm just no help."

"You're helpful!"

"Yeah, right."

"You are!"

"You're real cute, kid -"

And then she fucking smacked him with her sword -

"WHAT THE F-" he cut himself off before he invoked the wrath of Doma from hundreds of miles away. He wouldn't put it past the guy to materialize next to him just to reprimand him about language. The training sword had made a satisfying smack against his arm and he rubbed it even though he had hardly felt it. In fact, he'd hardly seen it happen. 

Mirakuru had just been standing there and then, like a little shit, she had struck him going from completely relaxed to blood-thirsty gremlin mode in less than a second.

That was his move!

 "You taught me that one," she looked so proud of herself as she put her hands on her hips and stuck a tongue out at him.

"You little shit," he smirked as he got into a defensive stance. Yep, somewhere in the world, Doma was whirling around with the full intention to wring Gyutaro by his profane neck.

"Stay relaxed, stay prepared; never let them know where or when you'll strike!" she recited with a wide grin on her face. "Looks like I've become the teacher now."

"Ohhhh, I'm gonna get you for that," Gyutaro threatened which only made Miku giggle and hold up her training sword.

"Come get it old man."

He tackled her easily enough and the wrestling began.

"What was that? Did you just try and insult me? Sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of me winning!" Gyutaro snickered and Miku shrieked in joy despite being in a headlock. She was still a demon and those quirks did come with some handy strength modifications that Inosuke was wickedly jealous of. Hence, Miku could wiggle free and escape (and throw Gyutaro over her shoulder while she was at it) while the position could usually shut down Inosuke's idiocy.

"You little -" Gyutaro rolled over leisurely and was not prepared for the training sword to smack him in the head. "OW!"

"Someone let their guard down~" Miku, the culprit giggled, her training sword back in hand.

"Oh you brat, I'm going to stand you in a tree -" Gyutaro was ready to get to his feet and continue this scuffle when a single, powerful, screeching sensation rocketed through his entire being.

Danger.

Daki. Gyutaro straightened like he'd been hit by lightning. His body immediately went on alert, his senses flaring out to the garden and beyond. Daki sensed danger. Where was she? She'd gone out patrolling - had she found something? 

"Gyutaro? What's wrong?" Miku saw the shift in his stance, and the threat was made clearer when he summoned his sickles.

Gyutaro felt everything in him flare like an inferno as he tried to decipher his sister's thoughts. She was panicked, startled... worried. If he focused hard enough he could sense her flinging out ribbons, pouring all her energy into their bond, so that he might sense whatever it was she was fighting.

"Go inside, wake the hashira. Something's wrong," Gyutaro ordered, bouncing his sickles in hand before aiming for the direction Daki was screeching her warning from.

Then... things began to glint in his senses, like reflections pinging to his eyes his senses rippled in the world around them and he felt his blood run warm and rageful.

He hadn't been paying attention. He'd been so damn comfortable here he hadn't been sensing threats, but now - now he could feel them like rats in the attic. Demons. They were subtle, like the faintest of vermin, skittering around near undetectable.

Then, they were everywhere; a blood art. It had to be a blood art.

"Miku! Go!" He ordered harshly before letting out a snarl.

Weighing his options with his sister's panic, he threw a sickle in Daki's direction, starting to hear the sounds of conflict from down the street. His other he lashed out just as the first hellspawn appeared in the garden.

They slipped out of what could only be described as bubbles, invisible until the moonlight rippled over their iridescent surfaces, popping and placing five, ten, twenty - more demons that Gyutaro could count in a moment. His sickle cleaved through two immediately, their grotesque faces melting into horror as their undead flesh rotted under his poison.

Gyutaro felt his sickle from afar join with Daki's assault on her own plethora of problems, the blade tumbling handle over slice, butchering anything in its path, listening to both Daki's thoughts and Gyutaro's own.

And Gyutaro had too many thoughts.

Miku, still running down the halls, yelling an alarm that may stir everyone too late. Kotoha, somewhere in the rooms behind him, her heartbeat spiking at Miku's cries. There were more humans; the hashira, her sisters, the butterfly girls, the injured slayers, and more human hearts who were unfamiliar to his ears but needed to keep beating regardless.

He looked over the sea of demons appearing from the air and felt his mouth dry. They were on the fences, in the yard, swarming like ants or perhaps flies on a corpse. He let out a roar of frustration, and perhaps determination. His poison, viscous and crimson, melted from his sickle, lashing out at the flood before him and cutting through the ranks, forcing them back precious feet.

He had to hold them back. His senses warned him of too many things all at once. They'd come from the west, there were many, too many. They were weak clearly; frothing at the mouth, starved for blood and flesh, newly turned. Nearly all of them held swords.

Swords?

Nichirin swords. Tattered black uniforms. Breaths. Breaths -

Fuck. The panic from both the number of foes and his new epiphany forced Gyutaro's hand and with a screeching from his blood, he summoned his own power. At his call, thousands of poisoned blades ripped through the air, dicing the demons around him along with the garden, the trees, the fence, even the insects in the grass and butterflies in the air. It was left looking like  a tornado had touched down.

Blood assaulted his senses as the garden was painted a slew of reds, purples, and rotten pinks from the blood of the demons. He was splattered with crimson, his chest growing tight as his thoughts caught up with his mind, just as the demons started to stitch back together.

These demons. All of the demons, every single one that Gyutaro could pick out whether in pieces or whole, were once demon slayers. They were utilizing styles he'd grown to recognize, some breathing, some not, some following muscle memories, some with their swords melded to a part of them, using blades like a feral creature used teeth, claws, or stingers.

Those who could move, either through their own agility, skills, blood art, or dumb fucking luck, charged him.

He raised his sickle and felt his throat close as a wave of fatigue passed through him. Yeah - that's right, 'not eating humans' had side effects; fuck. He hadn't used his blood art like that in... years, probably not since he escaped Kokushibo. His demonic body both resonated with satisfaction and screeched in discomfort. He was weaker than he used to be. He was slower. He was starving.

His throat closed a bit more as a chosen few raised their swords. Then the fear melted away with an old, familiar, aching rage.

He'd killed hundreds of slayers, and he would do it again if necessary, whether they were demons or not. And even then, they were newly born, starved, feral demons. He was Upper Fucking Six. Excommunicated or not, they should've been running, cowering, begging him for mercy; they were going to fear him.

The first sword came in a messy slice for his face, he swayed out of the way, squatting low and slashing hard, cleaving that demon in two. He kicked the next demon away before bending backward to avoid a torso blow. 

The demons he'd sliced apart were reforming, demons racing for him with half-formed arms or regrowing faces. He dodged the nichirin claws of one and cut down five more before some lucky demon got the first blow.

He'd sent a kick into the back of a demon and immediately sharp, sudden pain raced up his foot. The demon shrieked as its spine cracked, ripping free from its poisoned flesh and revealing that what was supposed to be bone was a sword. His spine was a fucking sword and half of it was embedded in Gyutaro's foot.

What the actual fuck.

Gyutaro hissed in pain as he ripped his foot free, splitting it in half from the blade's razor edge. Pain had never bothered him before, but the flesh took agonizingly long to stitch itself together. He leaped away with one leg and felt rage broil in his blood. 

He felt Daki's rage too, but his felt... older.

These demons... they were here for a purpose. They had been a plan. They were united. They thought they could take him. Best him. Get past him. Beat him. With a roar, he threw himself into the fray.

Twist, twist, slash, hack. This was familiar. This was... terrifyingly wonderful. His blood echoed with violence and long-forgotten rage that he used to inflict on everything around him. He found his swings growing stronger as he caught the flimsy hand of a demonic slayer. Demonic, fearful eyes met his own which displayed their slashed-over mutilated glory across his pupils. disgraced kanji gleaming... and he laughed.

Such pretty eyes. Eyes that were whole and held no permanent scarring, no damning titles, no kanji, no hideous sclera or misshapen pupils. He'd never had such nice eyes, such whole eyes, even as a demon. He had even less of a pretty face now...

The demon screeched as his scythe sliced right through both pupils before Gyutaro shoved him away, whirling round to face three others. He dealt with them quickly and found something growing in his mind.

The rage, the pain, the fury... the quiet, throbbing envy. His eyesight was growing red from his blood art and the blood of his foes that had turned the garden into a puddle of scarlet. He could hear everything, sense everything, including the screeching of his cells and blood... and stomach.

How long had he been fighting? Seconds? Hours? 

How long had he been starving? Why was his stomach aching, longing, yearning for fulfillment?

How could he keep fighting if he didn't eat -

The taste of iron awakened him. For a terrifying second, he couldn't remember where he was. What was he doing? Why was he covered in blood? What was in his mouth, warm and flickering with a hint of power, but disgusting to taste -

A demon. There was a demon at his feet, its throat ripped out and pouring out a fountain of vile blood. The same blood that had just slipped down his throat. He was crouched over the body in a terrifyingly reminiscent memory of how he used to eat humans, crouching at their side as he tore them apart; sometimes alive, sometimes dead.

The rage turned into white noise and he felt himself begin to shake as he froze.

He'd... he'd just eaten the closest thing. The hunger had taken over and he had lashed out to devour whatever the closest. It was only a demon - it was a demon but he - if it hadn't been - if there had been someone else nearby would he have... if Kotoha had been at his side would he have...

The sword suddenly slicing through his neck shattered his headspace.

He was fighting. He was holding the demons back until help arrived. He had a job - he had a family - he had a life; wake the fuck up Gyutaro!

The demon had some strength in its swing but Gyutaro was still a disgraced Upper Moon and he slammed his scythe against the blade before the blade could sever more than a few inches. He shoved the blade out of his flesh and let out another wave of blood sickles, tearing through whatever was around him.

He had no time to stand, to collect himself, to take a meaningless breath. Yes, he'd just lost control. Yes, he had just sunk his teeth into the closest sentient being. No; it wouldn't happen again.

The envy melted away as did its accompanying prideful rage. This wasn't about him. This couldn't be about him!

"Gyutaro!" Kanae was a flash of colors and the sound of two demonic heads hitting the floor. Demons screeched and Gyutaro slashed another's throat before looking to the hashira.

"I can hold them back; get everyone out!" he yelled, as the hashira jumped to the remaining fence posts to clash with a swarm of demons there.

"We are already evacuating; you've held them well!" she was shouting over the cacophony of growls and feral gnashing of teeth. The demons smelled mortal blood and like hounds, they all looked to the hashira on the fence perhaps sensing her flesh or her steel. "Where is Daki!? I need her."

Gyutaro took the chance to dice a few more up, well enough so they'd take longer to reform. 

"She's holding more off! The two of us can dice em', we just can't kill them!" he yelled as the hashira beheaded another demon, another skittering towards her like a spider.

"I can handle that," she scowled and what glances Gyutaro caught sent a cold feeling through his blood. He'd never actually seen Kanae... mad. She'd grown frustrated at times, exasperated, even upset when she failed to get a slayer back on their feet, but never, not once, had she ever expressed anger.

This... This was fury. She stared at the sea of demons as Gyutaro had once stared at the sea of people on the streets of the Red Light District. He remembered his own thoughts well; how dare they live like that, how dare they taint the world with their selfishness, their beauty, their happiness. How dare they. He'd make them suffer. He'd make them pay.

It was the same for the hashira.

How dare they attack her home. How dare they threaten what was hers, everything she had. How dare they.

More... that was Daki. Daki was panicking now and Gyutaro leaned into her mind, letting his body rely on instincts to stay alive and hack away at his foes. There were more and Daki couldn't hold them back. She was in pain, she couldn't run but she couldn't hold.

And she didn't want to die, she was holding back something important. She didn't want to reform from Gyutaro's cells because something... something would get past her.

"I need Daki to get back here; she can move the injured slayers. Where is she?" the flower hashira was unusually cold and succise, but the gentleness never left. She still spoke in an even tone, with no anger directed towards Gyutaro, even in the chaos.

Gyutaro risked it. He closed one of his eyes so that he may see whatever Daki did and he swallowed a gasp.

There were more. So many more; why were they more!? How many were there!? Daki had roped off the street, the buildings tied together by her ribbons, her claws ripping through any fools that tried to jump over. But these demons had swords too and every ribbon slashed was another ribbon she had to form... and she was starving too.

"Kanae!" Gyutaro cried, half in desperation, half in pain as his distracted state had let a demon get a lucky blow into his side.

"What?"

"Daki's holding off more, a lot more; she can't hold on much longer! I have to get to her!" he cried, slicing off the arm of the fool that had driven a sword into his ribs.

"No! You're holding the line! Stay, I'll help her!" Kanae ordered, alighting from the fence and sprinting across the garden, avoiding demons.

"Kanae!" that was a new voice, but a familiar one. The scent of marechi flooded Gyutaro's senses and drool filled his mouth as he bit his tongue. His sight threatened to wane as the temptation took over his mind for a precious second before he raised his claws and drove them across his face to focus himself.

Blood dripped down his chin but the temptation was gone. The wind hashira had lept into the fray and cleaved a line to the Flower hashira, self-inflicted wounds driving the demons around him into a drunken frenzy.

"Sanemi," Kanae breathed at the sight of his arms, sliced open, weeping scarlet like a fountain of wine. Goddammit, it smelled heavenly.

"I'm fine; Shinobu is evacuating the others. What do you need!?" Gyutaro only half-listened to their conversation, trying to keep his headspace free of the terrible desire to sink his teeth into the slayer's skin and drink him dry.

He satisfied those cravings by shoving his sickle into the chin of a demon and watching it flail in pain and panic before he split the thing's face in half.

"Daki, she can get the grievously injured evacuated with her blood art. She's holding off more demons; we need to help her," Kanae demanded as she pressed her back against Sanemi, the two's nichirin swords flying out like a storm of attacks. Kanae acted like a petal amidst the chaotic storm that was Sanemi, leaping over his brutal swings to drift down on a demon and behead it with a grace unparalleled. Then she'd return to Sanemi's back, each watching the other's blind spots.

"The other demon?" Sanemi asked, perhaps for clarification, perhaps in distaste, either way, it made Gyutaro snarl.

They had thinned the numbers of the garden marginally and no demon had gotten to the porch of the estate yet, what with the hashiras holding down the fences and Gyutaro brutalizing the main garden.

He was trying to push through but every time he took a step forward a demon would slip past and sprint for the mansion and he'd be forced to chase them down and slice them up. All the while he felt Daki's panic growing.

"She needs help! Now!" he barked, then saw the wind hashira sneer at him.

"Sanemi!" Kanae's bite did suddenly flare with anger as she whirled around to face him. "I need you to go to her and take over her position so she can get back here."

"And leave you!?" Sanemi challenged as he beheaded two demons in one stroke. Kanae did not pause her dance of death as she refuted him.

"Have you forgotten who I am, Shinazugawa?" Kanae asked, and it was cold as ice. "You asked how you could help and I am telling you how; go!"

The Wind Hashira seemed to shrink under such a tone, but maybe it was because there were four demons trying to tackle him. He seemed to struggle with a swallow before he gave a firm nod. He leaped up whatever was left of the shattered and splintered fence as Kanae sliced down the demons trying to follow him.

Then, he hesitated.

"Demon," Gyutaro's head snapped over to look at the hashira who called him.

"What!?" Gyutaro snapped.

"If she dies because of you, I will kill you - "

"If you let my sister fucking die, you'll never get the chance!" Gyutaro snapped back, grunting as a rather large demon rammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground for a precious moment before he dunk his single sickle deep into the demon's stomach and threw them off.

His other sickle was still with Daki cleaving through the ranks, at least it felt like it. God, he hoped it was helping. Daki's fear was choking him.

The demons had swords and while no demon slayer swords had ever been able to permanently kill them, not even Kokushibo had been that lucky... he knew how much Daki hated dying.

"Go!" Kanae ordered in a tone Gyutaro was still not used to and when he gathered himself and looked around, the wind hashira was gone.

"Is he always that fucking pleasant!?" Gyutaro hissed.

There was no response from the flower hashira who danced around another array of attacks, her sword dancing outwards in arcs that mirrored the traced lines of petals.

"He will help her, that I will guarantee," Kanae murmured. "For now, we must hold here."

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

"We gotta go! We gotta go! I got to help Gyutaro!" Miku yelled as she tried to get past Kotoha.

"Gyutaro can handle it," Kotoha grabbed her daughter's shoulders firmly, kneeling down to look her in the eye. "We must protect the wounded and evacuate everyone, that is our duty; do you understand?"

They were in one of the med bays, a bag on Kotoha's shoulder, a fire in her eyes. The other butterfly girls were leading those who could walk out the door. Kanao was guarding the hallway, her usual serene smile stripped down to cold determination. Shinobu was running from bed to bed, quickly deciding which slayers could walk and sending them with Aoi who was directing them to the safest exit.

 Sumi, Naho, and Kiyo were running frantically from closet to closet, grabbing the necessary medicines and recipes that would prove irreplaceable if lost, panic clear as day painted their night-lit faces.

"I can't walk!" some slayer cried incredulously.

"You must," Shinobu ordered, not a shred of sympathy in her voice. "And you will."

"If Daki gets here she can get the rest," Kotoha stood and left Miku, coming to the young woman's side to assist. There was tension there, fear; the chaos had birthed terror in the butterfly estate that Kotoha found was completely foreign.

This had never happened before.

"We can't rely on her getting back in time. If he can walk, he is going to walk," Shinobu ordered, helping the said slayer sit up. "Now up! The demons grow closer."

As if summoned, there was a crashing from within the mansion, from the side opposite of where Gyutaro was holding off the sea of demons that Kotoha had glimpsed while running.

Kanao braced herself and Shinobu's sword was drawn in a moment. "Everyone who can walk go! Go now!"

Kotoha stepped back while Shinobu strode forward to Kanao's side.

"Mom, I can help!" Miku pulled on Kotoha's kimono. "Let me help! I can fight!"

Kotoha looked down and felt her chest seize. They were here for Miku, they had to be here for Miku. She grabbed her daughter's hand in both self-reassurance and to keep her youngest from bolting towards danger. Mirakuru only had to look into her eyes to know that her mother would not let her go.

"Kotoha! Take Miku and evacuate! Kanao, go with them, I will defend those left behind," Shinobu ordered as the sound of footsteps grew unbearably louder.

There was an unspoken argument between Kanao and Shinobu, a long-running stare they shared before the younger girl gave a stiff nod and turned, gesturing for everyone to get out, quickly. Kotoha and Miku took the back with Kanao, listening as the demons in the hall drew closer.

They slipped into one of the back hallways and almost immediately there was a scream as a slayer was tackled by a demon, its teeth sinking into their shoulder.

Kanao was there in a flash of pink, her sword flashing and delivering death faster than the demon could realize she was there. There were more demons, they crept from the other hallways and slipped in from the windows, from the sound of it they were on the roof too.

Miku was eager, too eager. As a demon crashed through the roof, Kotoha saw her little girl's eyes burn with confidence... she lacked fear. For a moment, Kotoha cursed herself. 

She'd wanted her children to look at the world without fear. She'd raised them to see the beauty in everything, to find the lesson or the wonder in what could be terrible. In a way, she'd done it. Inosuke feared nothing, Mirakuru feared nothing... but Kotoha would've sacrificed all of their fearlessness and bravery if it meant that for one moment, her children chose to stay safe and run away.

But Miku was Miku, and so she charged.

"MIKU!" Kotoha shrieked as the girl ripped out of her hand and tackled the demon, pushing it down the hall and smacking it with her training sword.

The slayers were fleeing behind Kotoha, trusting a little girl to defend them. Kotoha pulled a vial out of her pocket and raced to where her daughter was dueling a monster. She was intercepted and that demon felt the wrath of a mother as Kotoha slammed the glass vial on its face, wisteria acid covering its face, dissolving the cells and leaving the demon writhing in pain, screeching its lungs out as it suffered a slow death. 

Once, Kotoha probably would've felt bad. She probably would feel terrible once this was over and those screams could haunt her dreams, but for now... for now, her little girl was holding back a demon with a stick as her weapon of choice and all Kotoha could see was the worst of scenarios.

Miku deflected the first claw swipe but was woefully unprepared for the kick that slammed into her and knocked her into Kotoha's arms. Kotoha caught her, pulling her up and shielding her as she frantically reached for another vial of acid, her hands still covered in the residue from the last.

The demon lunged and Miku snarled.

"BURST!" she yelled, but it wasn't her voice. It was song-like, ethereal, and ear-splitting too. 

The demon's eyes widened before it exploded like a hideous firework of crimson and flesh, coating Miku and Kotoha in the stuff. Kotoha tried not to gag and Miku let out a pained wheeze.

"Miku?"

"I'm okay... I'm okay... Mama! You're bleeding!" Miku wiggled out of Kotoha's arms and grabbed the hand she'd used to slam a bottle of acid on a demon. It seemed breaking glass with your bare hands led to a few cuts.

"I'm alright; now come, come... we have to go!" she ushered Miku after the other demon slayers, Kanao right behind them, her sword had been ready to defend them and that soothed Kotoha.

"Go... I can cover the back," Kotoha assured her, holding up the next vial of acid. Kanao gave a firm nod and ran to the front, leading the slayers out of the mansion and into the street.

At some point, Miku grabbed her injured hand as they ran.

"Mama... Will Gyutaro be okay? Where's Daki?" she sounded frantic... worried... it broke Kotoha's heart because, in truth, she didn't know.

"They'll be alright," she breathed as they fled for the heart of the demon slayer headquarters. Crows were screeching above them, setting off the alarm and warning Kanao about the demons nearby. "They're both demons... they should be okay... they should be alright..."

Please don't make her a liar. Please don't make her a liar. Gyutaro's rare soft smiles and Daki's giggles... she'd be lost without them. Please, please don't make her a liar. 

Many things happened in quick succession and Kotoha only caught half of them.

A trio of demons ripped through the bushes on their right, Kanao intercepted them. Two crows shrieked a warning that Kotoha didn't register. Sumi shrieked in fear, and then her cry was cut off. Aoi yelled, pushing slayers aside as a bubble suddenly expanded around Naho and Sumi. Kiyo cried her friends' names in terror as she watched them get trapped by a bubble.

Miku yelled... Miku broke away... Miku charged.

Miku broke through the bubble... no... no not break through, the bubble just let her in.

The bubble vanished. So did Naho. So did Sumi. 

So did Miku.

For a moment, Kotoha wished a demon had just clawed out her heart; it would've hurt so much less.

(Doma: *Gets sucked into his personal hell*

Daki: *Holds off a demon army by her lonesome*

Gyutaro: *Nearly loses his mind in a fight and is carrying the entire butterfly mansion's safety on his back*

Meanwhile, Akaza: "Listen, Muichiro... do you think Kyojuro would like a gift of flowers more than a gift of food, cause like... he loves food, but... listen, I just think flowers would go great with his aesthetic. Idk, what do you think? I want it to say 'I appreciate you' without it being weird. I don't want to make it weird but... I really want to give him flowers. Is it too gay to give him flowers? Muichiro... Muichiro... are you listening to me? Muichiro?? HELLO!? I'm in a crisis here!! MUICHIRO! HOW DO I TELL KYOJURO HE'S PRETTY!?? M U I C H I R O!!!!"

Also, in the infinity fortress:

Kokushibo: *sips tea* Ah, peace at last.

Doma: *crashes through the wall, screaming*

Doma: *runs and breaks through the other wall, still screaming, with an injured slayer under his arm*

Gyomei: *Follows Doma, calmly and quietly*

Kokushibo: ...

Kokushibo: ...

Kokushibo: *sips tea*

Kokushibo: ...

Kokushibo: Anyway -

I'M NOT DEAD! I'M NOT DEAD! MIKU'S NOT DEAD EITHER!

Yeahhhh, sorry for the long wait. Life's... living it up much to my chagrin. But I'm not dead, I'm back. I have a plan of sorts. And yes, it involves angst.

But don't worryyyy, it's gonna be fineeeee, Miku's gonna be fineee, Doma's gonna be fineeee. Kotoha, Daki, Gyutaro, Kanae; they'll be fineeeee!

It's all good. I promise. Actually, I don't promise, but I can promise it'll be mostly fine. :D

ANYWAY LOVE Y'ALL, SORRY FOR THE WAIT!)