(Uhhhh I definitely need a warning here. This is about to get sad. Some people don't have plot armor and it's traumatizing. Just... be warned. Also, I do promise there's a happy ending. I promise you there's a happy ending! Not a bitter-sweet ending, a happy one!)

"Taratta, ratta, ratta, ratta, ratta, ratta ra."

It was a familiar rhyme they'd sung dozens of times in the garden. The t's marked their footsteps on the stained wooden floors. They sang in hushed voices, hardly signing at all but speaking the familiar cadence. Sumi's voice shook as she recited it, clinging to Miku's arm, but it kept them all moving. Naho swayed her head back and forth with the rhythm as she sat in Miku's arms. 

"Hop jump jump," Miku let herself bounce on her feet as she hummed the tune. The nursery rhyme was comforting and offputting all at once. It reminded her of home but echoed in the fortress like a bell. Their voices didn't harmonize as nicely here as in the summer sun. They couldn't even think about skipping around each other and holding hands, she was holding onto Naho almost too tightly, fearing that her arms would turn to jelly and she'd drop her injured friend. 

This wasn't home. There was no safety. No warmth. It was cold, empty, and lonely... but she didn't want to think about that, she focused instead on the song and the airflow around them.

"Pyokko Pyokko dances," Naho managed to crack a smile aimed towards a nervous Sumi. It made the other girl smile a bit wider as her voice grew slightly louder.

"Red shoes on its feet," Sumi recited, pressed up against Miku's side. Miku smelled the air once more and found it just as stale as it had been when they'd entered this place. She couldn't smell the outside air but she could smell... other things.

Sickeningly sweet things, akin to melting candy and maggots. It was easy to shove the smells aside as she was surrounded by Sumi and Naho who both smelled of wisteria, fresh laundry, and medicine. 

So along they pressed, all three trying not to jump at every creak of wood or shifting of rooms. Doors slammed randomly around them, and entire rooms flew by in the distance, soaring up and around like puppets on strings.

"Ratta, ratta, ratta-ra," they all finished together with a little skip before beginning the rhyme anew. 

"Sosora, sora, sora, the rabbit's dance," Naho began once more.

"Taratta, ratta, ratta, rat-" All three girls started the rhyme, but it was Miku who stopped first.

Her lips froze, then her tongue, her legs, her arms, her heart; it all froze.

Because... because... she knew that presence. She knew that smell; death. So much death, bloody and desperate death. It was different from the slayers who died in the butterfly estate of their wounds. Their deaths smelled at least slightly peaceful - this deathly presence, this harbinger reeked with the residue of fearful final moments.

The biwa strum was what made Sumi and Naho stop.

She could feel it. Those red eyes. They bore holes in the back of her neck making everything stand on end from her nerves to her blood. For a moment she was far younger, learning the true definition of fear for the first time. That fear was right behind her.

She turned because Akaza had taught her to never let her opponent have her back, it left her too open. She turned because Inosuke had told her to face everything head-on, no matter how her heart pounded. She turned because she couldn't just stand there.

He, however, could just stand there; the monster so much of her family could not name. He stood there with porcelain skin and blood-colored eyes, like a pillar of misfortune and Miku knew so many things at once. 

She knew she couldn't run. She knew she couldn't fight. She knew she wouldn't win. She knew she was going to die.

Sumi was frozen where she stood, her eyes blown wide from the presence. Naho was clinging to Miku's soft blue kimono, unable to meet the demon king's eyes, her entire form trembling as she stared at the floor whose dark stains suddenly seemed far more sinister. Miku couldn't stir, not a muscle, not a bone, not a simple heartbeat. 

Paralyzed. She was paralyzed in fear. For a moment she heard Gyutaro and Daki scolding her - the worst thing she could do was freeze. No... no she had to move, she had to move! Move!

Muzan Kibutsuji surveyed the three girls before him and scoffed. 

"Such a disappointment; The cheap replacement couldn't even manage to grab you correctly." His voice was startlingly soft, like the brushing touches of flies around a corpse. It filled Miku's blood with centipedes and her bones with roaches. Her body broke free of its paralysis, shuddering as if someone had run a blade down her spine.

"Away!" her body managed to react in pure fear. She screamed it, activating her blood art, hoping to send the demon king flying away. It had worked on Daki - it had worked on her Father when she practiced. She hoped it would work on him. She hoped it would buy them time. 

Muzan flinched as the words washed over him, sneering as his feet were pushed back mere millimeters. Then... he stood tall.

No... no... it didn't seem to do anything to him! Not a thing!

Miku's throat was too dry. Her body was too stiff. She couldn't do anything - nothing at all!!

"Insignificant," Muzan dismissed once Miku's voice stopped reverberating in his blood. He moved so fast, it seemed like he didn't move at all.

But he must've... he must've.

Because... because...

There was a sound like a tearing curtain and a warm splash of sweet iron sickness. Miku blinked for a moment, her lips trembling as her instincts understood faster than her mind.

There were no more breaths. Neither she nor Muzan filled their lungs, Muzan didn't need to and her human heart had fled deep within her. Her blood stopped pumping, her lungs stopped working. Death... there was so much death. She couldn't move, she couldn't look. She couldn't stop looking.

"Naho?" what emerged past her lip couldn't be anything but a whimper. She fell to her knees, her arms full of a fresh corpse. 

"Sumi!?" She shouldn't but she had to, she looked to her side and wailed at the stain of soft linens and blood there.

"Obnoxious distractions -" a hand of ice latched around her arm and pulled her away from her friend's bodies. The lingering warmth stained her fingers like Naho's blood stained her face and Sumi's stained her shoes.

"No!" She thrashed and writhed as the reality crashed down on her like the slamming of a casket. Sumi... Naho...

"You killed them! You killed them!" She screeched and wailed as she was pulled away, Muzan's hands gripping her arm with such strength she thought he might just rip her arm off.

She didn't care. She screamed and sobbed, scratching at his unrelenting hands as her legs gave out from under her. She couldn't even draw blood, it was like scratching at a marble statue.

Muzan simply ignored her, as if she wasn't there at all, as if she was insignificant as a fly. There was a pit in Miku's gut, full of shock that was slowly draining away into grief. Not Sumi... not Naho...

How could he? He didn't even blink - didn't even tremble. They were good, they were kind and he... he just...

She was going to die here. Muzan was going to kill her. She'd never see Papa again, or Mom, or Inosuke... Daki, Akaza, Gyutaro - Kanae or Shinobu... Nezuko, Tanjiro, Kanao.. Kiyo. Tears filled her eyes and poured like never before, she couldn't see anything they fell so heavily. Still, she couldn't breathe...

"I hate you!" She wailed, digging her nails into Muzan's skin. "I hate you! I HATE YOU!"

With no care whatsoever, she was tossed into a room. The strength behind it sent her rolling but she caught herself just like Kanae had taught her. Yet, she couldn't find the resolve to stand.

They were in a larger room, barren save for a desk in the center that was covered in vials, papers, and other testing instruments. It was a hideous replica of Kotoha's work desk save for the bloodstains that surrounded it. Miku's senses were assaulted by the rich stench of blood, both demonic and human.

"Truly, every aspect of your existence is infuriating," Muzan muttered as he closed the door behind him and strode to the desk, his steps never making a sound.

"I hate you," Mirakuru hissed, clenching her fists as she tried to get her tears to stop. They wouldn't, like condemning bell chimes they dripped onto the floor and her balled-up fists, running down her skin with the crimson there. She couldn't. Sumi and Naho were there, their warmth still on her fingers. She reached up and wiped the blood off her face, smearing it across her cheeks, her hands shaking as she looked at the crimson splattered on her palms.

"So you've said," Muzan muttered, unamused as he plucked up a syringe. "You're hardly the first."

Miku clenched her teeth as she sat back on her feet, looking up as she tried to stop her tears from flowing. She had to do something. She had to be strong - like Akaza! Like Inosuke!

They wouldn't cry, they'd stand up and fight. She had to stand up and fight!

Those hands of ice grabbed her again and she yelped as a needle found her arm. Despite how she struggled, Muzan's iron grip did not let her move an inch until the syringe in her arm was full of her blood. 

Then he let her go, throwing her to the ground and walking back to the desk.

"Wh - what are you doing!?" Miku demanded, holding her now sore arm while also trying to rub her tears away. She wanted her Papa. She wanted her Mom. She wanted Akaza or Daki or Inosuke or Gyutaro or Kanae or -

"The key to my perfection concealed in such a useless vessel - the product of a worthless traitor," Muzan murmured to himself as he inserted some of Miku's blood into a petri dish. "Could it be so ironic?"

"My... my Mom says I won't make you immune!" Miku managed. "She says eating me won't make you stronger!"

Muzan glanced over at her and the mere weight of his gaze seemed to wrap hands around Mirakuru's neck.

"Annoying," Muzan surmised simply as he looked back at his work. He ran a razor-sharp nail down his palm and let his blood drip into the same petri dish. 

"I - I won't make you immune!" Miku cried once more, watching as her blood mixed with Muzan's in that petri dish. "You - you didn't have to kill Sumi - or Naho! They didn't do anything! I didn't... I won't make you -"

"Doma's pet knows nothing of my power," Muzan stated finally. "And even if such a hypothesis was true, it wouldn't save you."

The demon king looked back at Miku as he picked up the petri dish. "I will test if your cells, when mixed with mine, grant me true immortality. If they do, then you have served a higher purpose. If you do not..."

He took slow steps forward and Miku's body moved on its own accord, scrambling away from the demon king until she was backed against a wall. Muzan towered over her, not an ounce of humanity pooled in his eyes. 

"If you truly are as useless as your traitorous sire hopes, then I'll use your corpse to torment him right before I string him up in the sun."

His eyes gleamed and Miku saw it all so clearly for a moment. Those moments when her Father would cling to her so, so tightly as if she was going to disappear, his body freezing to the touch, so scared he'd lose her. The way Akaza flinched at harsh tones, the moments he looked at her and made her promise to be safe. The way Daki could make herself so, so small if she was worried, she'd hold Miku close sometimes too. The way Gyutaro hunched over himself, guarding his chest when was getting scolded or step between Miku and an angry slayer, ready to take any blow that came for her.

She saw Sumi and Naho, covered in blood, still. She felt Naho's weight in her arms... and for a moment she imagined Inosuke there. For a moment she saw Daki and Gyutaro like that... she saw her family dying and Muzan wouldn't even blink.

And she felt herself rage. Everything, everything melted away as she seethed, her blood boiling under her skin as she stared into those eyes. The grief, the pain of Sumi and Naho - it fed something. The fear of her childhood, remembering what her Papa looked like when his throat was slit, the way he had thrown himself at her to try and protect her from those eyes. Everything - everything!

He'd caused everything! He was the reason Tanjiro was sad! He made Nezuko a demon! He's the reason a demon killed Kanae and Shinobu's parents! Kiyo, Naho, Sumi - all of their families! Genya's family! He was the reason Tamayo was sad - he had to be! He hurt everyone! Everyone! Every kind person, every sweet smile, every gentle touch - he had hurt all of them!

"I... hope... I hope you die," She spat with rage, shakily standing as she faced down the demon. 

"I will never die," Muzan hissed, returning to his desk. "I am a god on this earth."

But Mirakuru didn't bother listening to another poisonous word.

"I hope it hurts!" She seethed. "I hope you Burn!"

Her voice resonated as she spat the word 'burn'. She didn't much care that her blood art hadn't affected him earlier, she didn't care at all that she may die. She was far too hurt and angry to think about any of that.

"Your blood art will not affect me. I am the King of the Demons and you are a hybrid wretch. Try it again and I'll -" his words broke off as the smell of smoke filled the room. The two looked at each other, King and child, Muzan and Mirakuru, and both looked a little shocked.

Then Muzan, king of the demons, lord of the night, exploded into brilliant orange flames.

"A demon's blood art is where a demon's true power shines."

Her father had said that, taking her hands during one of their lessons. He'd breathed out frost and smiled at her, fixing her posture as she prepared herself once more. For some reason, the words echoed in her head as Muzan screeched within the inferno.

"But even the most powerful blood art can falter if the demon lacks resolve. It's just like the demon slayer's techniques - if your brother falters, no matter how hard he's trained, all his techniques will fail him if he gets too scared to move."

She's been too scared. She hadn't been able to save Naho and Sumi because she had been too scared...

Muzan slammed against one of the walls, holding his burning face as his form writhed and erupted in a mess of flesh appendages, each one trying to put out the flames that tore into him like starving wolves.

"You insolent insect!" He screeched over the roaring blaze.

"So, when you have to use your blood art, remember why you use it. If you ever get too scared or nervous, remember why you fight."

She'd failed Sumi and Naho. She wouldn't fail again! She cornered her resolve and sprinted for the door, sliding it open with a slam and racing down a hall blindly. She heard Muzan roar behind her and suppressed a shiver as the inferno of a demon king stumbled out of the room and took chase.

"You cannot doubt yourself. Doubt is the true killer."

Faster... faster!!

"It's not a test of strength every time, okay brat?"

That's what Daki said about blood art. She'd plucked Miku up and suspended her helplessly in the air during one of their sparring matches.

"You won't be able to win a fight head-on every time, so don't listen to your idiot brother. Your blood art is like mine; super, super flexible. Don't just throw attacks around blindly like Gyutaro or Akaza. Use your words to distract your opponent or get away from the fight. Think, don't just 'do'. You're not an idiot, so don't act like one."

Muzan was there. Faster than anything Miku had ever seen the demon king appeared in front of her, his skin burned away and his teeth pulled up into a hideous snarl. His hand was reaching for her hand and she burned Daki's words to memory.

 It would work this time - it had to.

"AWAY!" She commanded and she pictured it working. She pictured Muzan flying so far and so fast... and her blood listened. Muzan was gone within moments, crashing through the halls and roaring in anger, his snarls fading into echoes that rang out in the fortress. She sensed in her heart of hearts he'd be back within moments. He would be faster than Akaza, faster than Daki, faster than Kanae...

Still, Miku ran on. Fear in her heart and anger in her head. She had to survive - she had to! She had to see her family again - her friends! She had to! Tears spilled from her eyes as she pushed onward, her heart beating once more relentlessly against her chest.

She would get away - she had to.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Two hashira and two ex-kizukis against Upper Moon One. Doma would love to say it was a fair fight.

It wasn't. It was embarrassingly one-sided, and Doma wasn't on the winning side.

In fact, it wasn't even close. He dove out of the way of another slashing attack, throwing an ice wall up to push up and Gyomei to safety just in time. Akaza had to roll to escape the second flash and do not ask Doma how Muichiro was untouched thus far, there were too many close calls to count.

No matter how they rushed him, no matter how they tried to coordinate, Kokushibo's defense never seemed to slip well enough to expose his neck. Gyomei was able to power through with brute force and impeccable form, but any blow he did land was insignificant and healed within moments.

Muichiro had at least helped turn the tide of battle towards a more neutral ground. There were more moving targets to focus on now, Doma had only been sliced in half twice since the second hashira joined and Akaza had helped him pull himself together one of those times.

"Will you just die!?" Akaza roared in frustration, lunging forward like the maniac he was. Kokushibo's response was to subtly shift his form.

"Fifth Form: Moon Spirit Calamitous Eddy." The murmur barely reached their ears before the attack raced out. It was a vortex of crescent slices and death that Akaza only avoided because of his blood art, Doma could imagine Akaza's danger sense was practically screaming at him constantly, it definitely looked like the striped demon's senses were on edge.

They scattered like roaches from the attack, Doma flinching as one grazed his face but coming away unharmed for the most part. Still, he ran alongside the stones, small droplets of water splashing with his every step.

His blood art had been stronger when there was more water around him. It was strange, he'd never needed water for his blood art, but there was an undeniable difference in his strength now that he was pulling on his own power alone. One part of his mind wondered about the consequences of such an adaptation - would he be at full strength surrounded by water? Was this his body's way of adapting to his change in diet? Could any demon do it? If he had more water, would he pose more a threat?

These were questions he did not have time for because he was running for his life. Ice flew out from his fingers as he sent out another attack.

"Divine stampede," he breathed as his blood art condensed into a herd of wild boars, their tusks gleaming with icicles. It was one of his new arts, a faster, wilder attack to cover him as he sprinted for more cover. The boars ran in unpredictable paths, swerving and charging toward their target.

Kokushibo stepped into the stampede without hesitation, decapitating the boars with a few simple strikes - but it did buy them time.

Well... it bought Muichiro time.

The young hashira seemingly appeared behind Kokushibo, his expression blank as his blade carved through the Upper Moon's shoulder. The blade sunk down, down, down, and then caught on Kokushibo's steel-like ribs.

The boy tried to pull his sword free, to no avail.

The sword was stuck and it seemed Akaza, Gyomei, and Doma all realized it at once. Muichiro too, but the boy didn't run, he didn't abandon his only weapon, not even when all six of Kokushibo's eyes snapped over to stare at him coldly.

How a boy only four years older than Miku could stare the embodiment of death in the face and not shutter would forever haunt Doma.

The slash came faster than Doma, Akaza, or Gyomei could. It took the boy's right arm off his shoulder, leaving his sword lodged in Kokushibo's ribs. The boy's blood burned with the smell of youth as the scent touched Doma's nose, nearly making him gag.

Akaza was there first, just as Kokushibo finished his slash. His arm came down like an executioner's blade, severing Kokushibo's arm as he grabbed Muichiro and his blade in one go. Gyomei was there next, his spiked flail crashing into Upper One's head, bursting half of it off. Doma was there last, throwing up three of his "Divine child" techniques, ice clones that would keep Kokushibo distracted long enough for them all to jump away.

Or...  it was supposed to.

Kokushibo was gone in a flash, all of Doma's ice clones shattered within a moment. Upper One appeared at Akaza's side completely healed. He unforgivingly sliced Akaza diagonally, from the top of one shoulder to the bottom of another. It could've so easily been the demon's neck had ex-upper Three not dodged.

"Akaza!" Doma cried as the demon stumbled. No matter what attack he threw out, it wouldn't get there faster than Kokushibo could slice.

But Muichiro could. Despite missing an arm, he landed on his feet, catching the sword Akaza had dropped and clashing it against Kokushibo's blade in a defensive move. Where he got the strength from, where he summoned his resolve from, where he hid his pain, Doma would never know.

"You're an incredible swordsman, young one," Kokushibo's voice trickled into the air as Muichiro strained with all his might against the strength of Upper One.

"Hang on Muichiro!" Gyomei called with confidence Doma did not share.

"I am not surprised..." Kokushibo supposed. "I sense... kinship between us, the blood I've spilled."

With that Kokushibo shoved Muichiro away and turned to deflect Gyomei's attack, forcing both him and Doma back with the sixth form which ripped through the battlefield, slicing through wood and stone alike as if it all were straw. It ripped through Doma's hastily made ice defenses and sliced Doma's left arm off. Gyomei was not undamaged as a thick slice ripped past his side.

Akaza was pulling himself together, wincing as he stood, the line sliced into him slowly vanishing. Muichiro still stood there, guarding him, his breaths coming heavier as blood streamed from his missing appendage.

Kokushibo looked back and seemed to take in the child for the first time.

"Yes... I sense a hint of my own blood in you. Tell me, child, are you a descendant of Tsugikuni? That would certainly explain your uncanny strength and form." 

Muichiro was trembling, his breath coming even faster. 

"Yes... it's unmistakable. Tell me, what has become of our family?"

"I... I have no family," Muichiro breathed, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to grapple with something. "I... don't... remember..."

"A pity then," Kokushibo supposed as he raised his sword.

And suddenly Akaza was there, crashing into Kokushibo, hissing as he bared his teeth. Doma didn't need to see fighting spirits as Akaza did to know his friend was seething.

"What's all this shit about descendants, One?" Akaza hissed as he forced Kokushibo away from Muichiro with raw strength alone, his veins bulging from the effort, his teeth full of blood. "I thought you had no time for earthly attachments!?"

"Stay out of this," Kokushibo dismissed, trying to carve through Akaza a second time. Akaza, somehow, someway, caught the blade that came for his neck, thick blood trickling through his fingers as he tried to hold that razor's edge steady.

"I see it now; the two of you share a similar fighting spirit. Collected, controlled, muted even... but the hashira's spirit burns with a core of loss - he's fighting for something, to avenge someone, to save others what it is he suffered... you... Your fire burns with something you abandoned. Something you left behind! Yours burns with selfishness, One!"

Doma raced to Muichiro's side as Akaza somehow held Upper One back. The boy had fallen to his knees, his expression no longer blank as something fought in his gaze, burned in his eyes.

"Muichiro - Gods..." Doma went to try and stem the bleeding and had to bite his tongue to keep from drooling at the smell. "Muichiro we need to stem this -"

The boy blinked once, his breaths were still controlled but heavy.

"Fight... to... protect others..." his voice was weak and Doma feared for a moment he was about to watch a child die in his arms.

"Muichiro!" Doma cried, softly shaking the boy and trying madly to remember how Kanae dealt with missing limbs.

Akaza roared in pain and fury behind them, Gyomei's strength shattered wood and cleaved through flesh and Muichiro... Muichiro suddenly grew still.

The boy reached up and tore through his uniform, using the scraps as a tourniquet that Doma tried to help with the best he could.

"His aura is... suffocating," the boy managed. "But I remember..."

"He's horrifying," Doma breathed, beginning to notice just how his hands were shaking. "You can't fight like this. Try to slip away, I may be able to distract him long enough to -"

His was cut off by the agonizing sensation of a sword cleaving through his neck. It slipped halfway across his neck before Muichiro's sword was there, stopping it from going any further. The boy had to throw his entire weight against it as he was now one-handed but it saved Doma's life and gave him enough time to rip away, scrambling back as he held his neck.

Kokushibo was there, missing half his face and bearing a snarl. Doma frantically looked back and saw Akaza cut in three pieces, Gyomei with a defensive stance in front of him.

"Such strength is wasted on a mortal life, child," Kokushibo growled, his face growing back as he stared Muichiro down. Muichiro, whose face was twisting in fury, whose eyes were burning with something never seen before.

"Become a demon, you will serve us well. You will surpass every boundary that ever restrained you," tempted the demon, and Doma felt his heart drop.

"Like I'd ever join you. Eat shit and die," Muichiro stated simply. 

The air was cold for a moment as everyone absorbed that - at least until Akaza laughed from the back with an idiotic grin on his face, still trying to reattach one of his arms.

"Such promise wasted," Kokushibo murmured simply, suddenly pouring all his strength into his blade, forcing Muichiro to crumble, at least until Doma jumped in.

His blood was burning, warming his frost-covered body. There was a fire of rage in his chest as his claws ripped into Kokushibo's eyes, frost bursting from the claw marks he made.

"You'd condemn your family to our fate!?" Doma roared. "You'd condemn a child to this life!?"

"We're no family!" Muichiro hissed lunging in and striking before fading away all too easily.

Kokushibo hissed in displeasure and Doma jumped away just in time to spare his neck, but not his arm... again. There was no way he'd regrow it in time but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

"Your sentimentality betrays your weakness," Kokushibo sneered. 

Gyomei jumped in from behind them and forced the two demons to separate less they get a spiked flail to the face, an experience Kokushibo didn't want to experience again. He deflected the flail, the chain scraping past his flesh-like blade as he closed the distance between himself and the rock hashira.

His first form nearly sliced Gyomei in half if not for the hashira's reflexes. His next strike was interrupted by Akaza lunging in and delivering an unforgiving kick to Kokushibo's chest.

"Both of your sentiments have weakened you," Kokushibo reprimanded as he skid backward mere inches and glared at Akaza.

"Family is not a fucking weakness!" Akaza roared as he threw a punch, one Kokushibo caught terrifyingly easily making Akaza's eyes widen.

"Of course it is," Kokushibo stated, tearing Akaza's arm from his body with a sickening pop before knocking him to the ground. "Look at yourself - unable to defend yourself. You couldn't kill a child in this state."

But Doma was there, summoning a stream of icicles that cleaved through Kokushibo before Upper One could slash at Akaza again.

"Easy for someone so utterly alone to dismiss," Doma snarled as Kokushibo's eyes turned to him. "If you have no one to love, then love means nothing!"

"You assume too much," Kokushibo dismissed, striking for Doma and snarling as Gyomei intervened again.

"Then you did love someone!" Akaza growled, getting to his feet. "And you left them."

"Of course," He said it so simply. He said it like it was nothing which gutted Doma and set him ablaze with fury all at once.

It seemed to do the same to Akaza.

"Love is fleeting, useless if you have true ambitions. It is best discarded, anyone with the true goal to grow strong knows this." Never had Kokushibo stood so tall and seemed so utterly mistaken in Doma's eyes.

Never had his words grated against Doma so unnervingly.

"You... you left your family?" he breathed.

"What purpose did they serve me?' Kokushibo refuted. "What purpose does a child or a wife have to the strongest?"

That seemed to be Akaza's breaking point.

"You fucking monster!" He roared, crashing into Koksuhibo and fighting like a feral street cat. Doma was there, his fans appearing in his hand as he ripped into flesh.

To leave Kotoha? Leave her and Miku and Inosuke? She'd survive, he was certain, but to so easily rip her heart from her chest, to leave her feeling unloved and abandoned? 

He'd rather die a thousand deaths.

"You had it all! You had happiness! You had love!" Akaza was seething, forcing Kokushibo on the defensive with his relentless onslaught of blows. "You didn't lose it! It wasn't taken from you! You left it! Why!? You ungrateful, spinless, undeserving bastard!"

Kokushibo only cocked his head and snarled.

"I will not be lectured by such a weakling." With that, his sword cleaved through Akaza's defenses and if not for Doma intervening, Akaza would've lost his neck too.

As he carried Akaza away, the demon seethed, throwing insults over Doma's shoulder, egging on certain death.

"You failed to protect what was your duty! You abandoned it! You abandoned them! Coward! Liar! Failure! Monster! Demon!" it was so unrestrained and raw that Doma felt his own heart tear.

"Akaza, temper your anger - remember where you are!" Doma reprimanded desperately as Muichiro and Gyomei jumped into the fight to help.

"I'm going to kill him!" Akaza vowed.

"Living would be enough," Doma breathed as he deposited Akaza far enough away from the fight before jumping back in. "Get your arms back, quickly!"

"I'm trying!" Akaza seethed, waving the stubs of his arms around in anger.

Muichiro and Gyomei were surprisingly holding their own. Even missing an arm, Muichiro was still fast and silent, though his attacks now lacked strength as he was fighting with his non-dominant hand. Gyomei was still a force of nature that was able to force Kokushibo on the defense. 

"None of our attacks last!" Gyomei hissed. "His organs rearrange on a whim!"

Organs? How did Gyomei -

"So you too see the transparent world, another reason you should abandon this foolish mortal life!" Kokushibo hissed.

"You keep calling it foolish - the way I see it; you're the fool," Doma as he tried to slice through Kokushibo's sword. It clearly didn't work, but it did allow Gyomei to try to carve through Kokushibo's neck.

"You'll never succeed," Koksuhibo snarled to Gyomei. "I am the strongest, second only to the Demon King."

"Then why are you such a loser?" Muichiro's voice chimed as the boy flew in. There was a clang as his sword joined Gyomei's and, for a moment, sparks flew as the two swords worked together to cleave through Kokushibo's skin.

Doma saw it, for a moment. He saw the Upper One demon wince, he saw steel burn red like the dawn, and then all he saw was crimson as Kokushibo exploded in movement. His sword flew and crescent attacks splayed out, ripping through Doma's flesh. Gyomei had enough sense to grab Muichiro and pull away, the attack catching his face and summoning a river of blood.

Doma stumbled away, pierced too many ways to count, his vision clearing just in time to see Kokushibo in front of him, sword swinging to execute him one and for all.

For the third time in the past three minutes, Akaza saved his life.

Still armless, the ex-upper three flew between the two, kicking Kokushibo's arm away.

"Akaza!" Doma reprimanded.

"Gonna thank me for saving your life or keep standing there!?" Akaza snapped back as he jumped away.

"You don't have arms!" Doma cried.

"I don't fucking need them," Akaza snapped back, jumping from leg to leg, his arms still reforming.

"You - " Doma broke off as something resonated in his blood.

Kokushibo was whirling around to defend against Muichiro and Gyomei again... but that wasn't where the disturbance centered. 

It came from behind Doma, deep in the infinity fortress. Some sort of undeniable pull, something akin to a desperate tugging on his pant legs, just as Miku would when she had a nightmare.

Miku.

His heart dropped out of his chest as his eyes grew wider and his blood sang it true.

Miku was here.

He whirled around as a strangled sound erupted from his throat. 

She was here. She was alone. She was scared. That reality screamed in his blood and terrified him more than Kokushibo ever could.

Not his little girl. Not here. Not alone. How!? How did she -

"Doma!" Akaza was at his side, trying to decipher the fear on his face. One of his arms was back. "What is it!?

He couldn't speak but he had to. He couldn't explain but he had to. He couldn't move but he had to.

"Miku," he managed even though he sounded strangled.

Akaza immediately understood, his own eyes widening in horror.

"Go," he breathed.

"But - " To leave them to the whims of Kokushibo could be a death sentence. To leave -

"GO!" Akaza demanded, shoving Doma away as he turned back to face Kokushibo.

Without needing anything more, Doma took off. His feet beat against the river stones, throwing up small splashes in his wake as he took off for the depths of the fortress. Behind him, he heard the battle intensify.

"You cannot flee Two!" Kokushibo roared.

He had to keep going. He had to get to Miku. Akaza and the others could handle it...

"GO DOMA! GO!" Akaza screamed, too desperate to be confident. Doma didn't dare look back, he knew his heart too well. 

He heard Gyomei hiss in pain... he heard Muichiro grit his teeth. He heard Kokushibo taking chase and he knew, in his heart, there was no way he'd clear the battlefield before Upper One caught up.

He stopped to face his foe, bracing for the attack when Akaza intercepted Kokushibo, taking the full brunt of an attack and hissing in pain as his side was sliced open.

"Keep fucking going, Doma!" Akaza ordered.

And Doma did for a moment, he turned, his mind fully enraptured with visions of Miku trapped in this hell. Only after he had made a few steps did he realize what else he had seen.

Gyomei was on his kness, meters behind where Akaza and Kokushibo. Muichiro had been thrown even further back and was still recovering.

Akaza was fighting Kokushibo alone.

Doma whirled on his heel as the realization crashed into him like a tsunami. Akaza couldn't - there was no way Akaza -

Steel slicing through demon flesh sounded the same no matter where it sliced. And yet... and yet, no matter how many times Doma had heard Akaza lose limbs, lose ribs, even get his torso sliced... nothing could sound worse than his neck severing.

Kokushibo made it look criminally easy. His stance was flawless as his sword sliced through Akaza's defenses like butter. And Akaza, brave, stupid, furious Akaza didn't even look upset, just angry.

His neck had been cleaved off his shoulder, and as it fell to the floor there was not a hint of fear in his eyes; not even shock. Doma watched in sickening horror as Akaza opened his mouth and roared a final word.

"GO!"

It conveyed so much at once. Go save Miku. Go leave me. Go save yourself.

And Doma... all Doma could do was watch.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

"CAWWW! DANGER! HURRY! HURRY! Attack at the swordsmith village! Attack at the swordsmith village! HURRY! HURRY!"

The blast crow had been screaming that for the past seventeen miles. If Inosuke had any more energy he would've threatened to eat the blasted thing again.

Uzu-ee-somethin and Rengigoko hadn't stopped sprinting and Inosuke definitely wasn't going to get left behind. Tanjiro and Zenitsu were at his side and the dawn would arrive in a few hours... but something felt off.

Something in Inosuke's gut was screaming. It wasn't just about the two hashira's expressions, it was clear they were stricken with worry. Two Upper Moons had attacked the swordsmith village according to the dumb bird and that was apparently a big deal. They'd been sprinting for the past hour and only now were the lights coming into view.

Inosuke wasn't much of a genius, he'd admit, but he knew a bunch of swordsmiths would struggle against two upper moons, it would be a miracle if they were still alive unless they were wicked awesome blacksmiths which was totally possible. If doctors were super cool like Kanae and Shinobu, maybe the blacksmiths were just built different.

But Inosuke didn't really care, and sure that sounded bad - like he cared but he didn't have the same emotional resonance in those stakes, it wasn't like anyone he knew was there...

So why did his stomach feel like it was swinging from a trapeze and why was his heart ready to jump into his throat?

"Ready yourselves!" Regikogu commanded; "We're nearly there!"

"Finally!" Zenitsu whined. "My legs are killing me! I'm gonna die when I get there, I'm so exhausted!"

"Don't be so flamboyantly dramatic Agatsuma! We may just die if you're not careful. Two Upper Moons are no joke!" Uzee reprimanded.

"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!? WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT!? Why would you REMIND ME!??" Zenitsu cried desperately.

Tanjiro looked steadfast and determined and Inosuke? Insuke couldn't help but smirk despite how his gut curled. Maybe it was the fact that they were going up against Two Upper Moons. They had to be at some sort of impressive power level - they would be tricky...

There's no shame in being frightened. Fear is normal - find joy in it.

Akaza's voice echoed in Inosuke's head as his grin grew wider. This would be a tricky fight - dangerous too. His dad would have a heart attack when he heard about it. But it would be a cool story, Inosuke would be sure to act extra epic just so he could brag to Miku about it. He'd do ten flips, two backflips, and dice the demons up like fucking fish!

Fear means the fight is an actual fight. It means there are stakes involved. It means it's a challenge! Laugh in the face of a challenge, Inosuke. Smile! That's what it is to be a true warrior - to smile in the face of fear.

"I hear you, Akaza," Inosuke cackled to himself as the village came into view. Strange misformed fish monsters ran amock in the streets, waddled on the roofs. There were surviving swordsmiths, fighting for their lives. The air was thick with danger, Inosuke could sense it.

And he laughed, drawing his swords.

"COME ON DEMONS!" He yelled as he leaped into the fray. "COME GET ME!!"

(So this chapter can be summed up as;

Kokushibo: Muichiro... I am your great-great smth grandfather

Muichiro: I... have... a family??? *cue traumatic flashbacks*. Nooooooo - I'm related to a LOSER!

Kokushibo: *takes 1d8 of psychic damage*

Kokushibo: Wow... see, this is why I abandoned my wife and child. Fuck dem kids.

Akaza and Doma who love their families more than life itself: You did what!?

Doma: That's a terrible thing to do, how do you sleep at night?

Kokushibo: I don't sleep.

Akaza: *in feral mode* You're about to go to sleep permanently you sonofa - GIMME YOUR FUCKN KNEECAPS SIX-EYES, YOU'VE LOST LIFE PRIVILEGES AND WIFE PRIVILEGES!

And Miku's just having a bad day. Like she's just having a rough day... traumatized?
*looks at the permanently scarred 11-year-old I just created*
Nah, I - I don't think she's traumatized. She's fiiiiine. Remember, trauma is just character building, she's fiiiine. Right Gyutaro? Right Daki? Exactly, see - they're traumatized and they're just fine!

Akaza? What about Akaza? OH... uhhhhhhh, whoops - look at the time, I GOTTA GO! I gotta get outta here before I get hunted for sport. Don't worry about it folks, Akaza's fineeee. Kotoha's fiiine. Miku's fiiiine. 

What's this about Akaza? He's fiiiiiine. What are you doing? Put the weapon down! PUT! IT! DOWN! HE'S FINE! NO, PLEASE -)