Disclaimer:

I do not own nor claim all the rights to 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer; all rights are reserved to its respective creator, Koyoharu Gotōge. This is purely a work of fiction; names, characters, businesses, events, localities, and occurrences are all extrapolated from the author's writings and imagination or utilized in a fictitious manner. As such, any direct or indirect references to actual entities, dead or alive, or events do not, in any shape or form, resemble the opinions of the author.

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"..." = Dialogue

'...' = Internal monologues

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Shinobu

I can't find him.

I don't know how long it's been, but I've been ransacking these piles of rocks for a while now. My now-callused hands have begun to blister and bleed. Beads of sweat are secreting from my forehead as I work prodigiously in my back-breaking attempts to heft these ponderous rocks.

My arms are growing weak; they were already aching when I was roused from that sleep, but this onerous task has exacerbated the already-dilapidated state of my muscles. At this point, the shoulders are burning and the hands are hurting. My back is throbbing with pain, and I feel light-headed.

Nevertheless, I toil away.

I pick up a brick and toss it away. I lift another one and then hurl it to the side.

Another one.

Another one.

Another one.

It's probably been 10 minutes... No, 30 minutes... Or maybe 1 hour... 2 hours?

I can no longer keep up with it; I've lost my sense of time as I incessantly labor onwards.

I begin to doubt myself. What if he's really dead? What if he's gone forever, just like everyone else?

I've never been one to get sentimental in the midst of an assignment—much less one ordained by Oyakata-sama himself.

But too much has been happening too fast, and I can't keep up with any of it.

First, there's the discovery of a tripwire that's then set off by a stupid sewer rat. And then, next thing I know, a Demon Blood Art lulls me into a 16-year dream—one that felt so real, so authentic that I was ensnared by its appeal. Finally, I wake up in this abyss alone; Tomioka-san is missing and I can't be totally confident of his survival rate.

This has all made me giddy with apprehension, much to the consternation of my perturbed state of mind.

And it's not like I can immediately forget—or pretend to forget—those sixteen years of my interpretation of an ideal life; it was all too good to be true, yet tangible enough to deceive me into thinking that this was all real.

I grunt as I upheave another boulder.

This has all been too much. I felt tired. Tired and scared. Like a helpless child gone astray without the guidance of her parents.

I winced as I perpetually recalled the memories of the days of old and the days that were never to be.

I cough, my lungs aren't taking the tiny rock particles in well.

I want them back...

I want Otōsan and Okāsan. I want Nee-san. I want Okāsan's motherly embrace and soothing voice, I want Otōsan's sincerity and assurances, and I want Nee-san's cheerfulness and compassion.

I want Otōsan and Okāsan to engage in another one of those trivial, but wholesome banters. I want Nee-san to annoy me with one of her silly stunts.

I wish I could talk about my school day to Okāsan as she's cooking my favorite meal, Otōsan as he's perusing a newspaper, and Nee-san who's avidly listening to my anecdotes.

I want my old life back, or—at least—wish that I could relive my fake one.

But that's all gone now. Everyone's gone now.

My life's become something else entirely.

I have to face the reality of the situation. I can no longer dream because dreaming will only delude me.

They say that the will to live is derived from the desire to live for a purpose and for someone. In the absence of one or the other, a void is left in the heart; it cannot be rectified lest all consciousness and energy are devoted to the remaining factor.

In my case, I have no one to live for, but a purpose to die for.

In destitute of a loving family, I was embroiled in a cycle of grief. But, while I've never fully moved on, that misery has transformed into unbridled malice and contempt for all things demonic and their attributes. I am determined to utilize this underlying hatred for my own uses—chief among them, to fight these monsters as a Demon Slayer.

The manifestation of my parents' deaths and my sister's end has culminated in this obsessive spirit that craves blood and retribution.

Even so, I still miss them...

They all had to leave me. And now I'm all alone.

Alone against this cold, ruthless world. Where children of all backgrounds are compelled to abandon their innocence and indulge in the act of impetuous maturity that is commonly associated with soldiers—in this case, it would be the enlistment of young teenagers into the Demon Slayer Corps. Where some grieving parents must first bid farewell to their child long before they can pass away themselves; it is a sick and twisted sequence of events that leaves the older parents guilt-ridden at the prospect of their offspring's death.

A world where ravenous demons prey upon the weak and innocent in order to satisfy their insatiable thirst for human blood.

Those bastards.

I can never sympathize with those savages. They took everything from me. And I will be sure to take everything from them.

Especially that Upper Rank Two demon.

The very thought of that devil can induce me into clenching my teeth and manufacture the look of rage that furrows onto my brow.

My mind is entangled into a strange mix of sad and wistful silence, but also fiery and wrathful indignation. As my head writhes within these contradictory, synergistic forces, I am constantly disturbed by these whirlwinds of thoughts and sensations. My love and lamentation for my family on one hand, and the acrimonious and venomous spite for my enemies on the other.

But I don't have time for this folly of self-reflection. Tomioka-san is the priority right now.

Tomioka-san...

My mind begins to contemplate the most hideous of scenarios.

What if I find an irregularly-shaped corpse through all of this? What if I can never find him in the first place?

If Tomioka-san leaves me, then I don't know what I will do.

The question of whether to proceed with the mission notwithstanding, I will be left to infinitely wonder if I have failed him just as I failed Nee-san. If I abandoned him just like I had abandoned Nee-san's dying wishes.

I fight back the tears.

A feeling of hopelessness and dread overwhelms me. It's dizzying just to think about it. I feel powerless and utterly useless; if I cannot save him, then how will I ever forgive myself?

Nevertheless, something is telling me to not stop. To keep searching. To keep pushing on. It's the same impulse that drives my unquenchable desire for revenge—the capricious, unyielding emotions that refuse to forget and let go of the pain and grief that had hitherto consumed me.

Tomioka-san is a good man with a pure heart. So I can't give up on him this easily.

With nothing left to lose, with no other alternative, I beseech for him—I implore for his presence to be made known to me. I don't know what else to do. It's a very desperate measure, yes. But, at this point, anything will do.

"Tomioka-san!" I cried out.

No response.

"Tomioka-san!" I shout even louder.

Still nothing.

It hurts not getting an answer or a sign of acknowledgment; it's an indication of the silence and loneliness that is nigh upon me if the worst is indeed to come.

I'm starting to get demoralized once again, but I press on nonetheless.

I can't stop now, not after everything that has happened thus far.

"Tomioka-san!" I yell with passion.

I start to ask myself if I'm coming to Tomioka-san's aid, or if I'm the one calling out for his help. Either way, I would rather be in his presence.

"Ko— Kocho-san!"

My heart leaps out of my chest.

A response.

The voice was coming from a corner in the far end of the tunnel—in a crevice situated on the side of a wall. I immediately ran over to the source of this voice.

"Tomioka-san?! Is that you?!"

"Y-Yeah..." he answers wearily.

I am awash with a wave of relief and happiness.

By some miracle, I had found him; he was alive and well.

"Tomioka-san..." I said as I observed the aperture only to find Tomioka-san sitting Seiza-style on his knees.

He looked disheveled and frail as if his physical and mental states had both been simultaneously exhausted and stretched to their limits—which is understandable considering what he had encountered. But he is living and breathing in front of my eyes. Words cannot describe how delighted I feel at the sight of his sheen eyes—which exuded the irises of deep sapphire that faded to a lighter blue. I stare directly into his bluish-black pupils, still marveling at the circumstances I now find myself in.

"You're alive..." I blurt.

"Yeah... I am," he replies.

Though he wasn't smiling, I could tell that Tomioka-san was in a relaxed and somewhat jocund frame of mind.

Without any sense of forethought or deliberation, I immediately jumped down and sprinted toward Tomioka-san.

Upon being appropriately close to him, I landed on my knees and hugged him.

I squeeze my arms around him tight; I don't want to let go again. Additionally, I rest my head onto his chest—seeking comfort and solace in this dark chasm.

"I thought I had lost you," I said quietly.

"Me too," he replied.

For a few seconds, while he didn't reciprocate the gesture, I kept him in my embrace—my arms enclasped his neck. A profound sense of quietude enveloped the atmosphere as there was complete and utter silence between the two of us.

"Kocho-san..." Giyuu suddenly says.

"Hm?" I said with a conspicuous tone of softness in my cadence.

"Your smile... It's beautiful," he said.

Pigments of red and pink shading engulf the peripheries of my facial regions up to the temples—all preconditions for a 'blush', or a reddening of the areas around the cheeks. It didn't help that I just realized that I was hugging Tomioka-san, which further aggravated my disconcerted comportant.

I quickly dislodged myself from Tomioka-san and turned my face away, looking completely abashed.

"W-What are y-you saying?!" I stutter in a state of mad embarrassment.

"Your smile. It's beau—" Tomioka-san reiterated.

I keep forgetting that this man's an idiot.

"I get that!" I turn to face him, "but what do you mean by that?"

"I just remembered about a conversation we had years ago," he replied.

Huh? What does that have to do with anything?

"What about it?" I queried.

"... Nothing," he answered curtly.

Tomioka-san, despite his dispassionate countenance, had an aura of a solemn, but noticeable radiance. It was almost as if he was reminiscing or recalling something that is of great importance to him.

I pondered the implications of his statement, but could not discern the exact meaning of it.

"Gosh, this is what I get in return for saving you," I say.

"You don't like it?"

"N-No! I just..." I say sheepishly, "... this is why no one likes you, Tomioka-san."

"It's good to see you too, Kocho-san," he nods.

Sometimes, talking with a social hermit has its benefits. Especially when the person in question can't perceive the thoughts or intentions of his interlocutor.

"S-Sorry about... that," I alluded to my impulsive action of hugging him.

"About what?"

"... Nevermind."

Actually, I take my earlier statement back; talking with a social hermit only has downsides and nothing else.

Still... I'm eternally grateful that he's well. I couldn't ask for anymore.

Already, we're going back to our usual colloquies—the ones where he does something stupid and I complain about how unsociable he is. The reinstatement of this facet of normalcy has amplified my tranquil deportment; I can finally calm down now that Tomioka-san's okay.

I sigh. It's been a long day.

I take a glance at Tomioka-san's mien, especially his hands. My eyes widened.

"Tomioka-san, is that blood?" I asked concerningly.

His rough hands appeared to have been stained with a copious amount of blood.

"I had a little incident immediately after the initial blast," he explained.

I more heavily scrutinize his body once again, only to find even more blood on his abdominal area.

"Tomioka-san! What happened?!" I yelled as I quickly advanced toward him and examined the red stains.

This looks bad... My heart is racing right now, I feel utterly stressed out and troubled.

Tomioka-san is hurt... The words carried a stinging, poisonous sensation to my chest and my head. Everything nearly fell apart for a moment.

"I sustained a large incision as a result of being lacerated by a metal instrument. But thankfully, I disinfected the wound just in time and employed Total Concentration Breathing to finally close up the perforation," he delineated.

"Tomioka-san..."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing!" I shout directly into his face.

".... I don't seem to understand..." he replied.

"Why are you still up! You should be sleeping! Also, the wound isn't totally closed up, you need professional medical assistance! You need me!" I exclaimed.

With a slit of this magnitude, it's a miracle that Tomioka-san survived on his own. But, there's only so much that a novice can do without an expert around.

"Kocho-san, it's fine—"

"NO! It's not, Tomioka-san! You can't risk opening up that susceptible wound again! Now, you either lie down and rest, or I make you do it!" I said with both command and urgency.

I can't risk losing him again. I can't relinquish him. Otherwise, he might depart right in front of me.

Paranoia has encompassed me. Its pernicious, disdainful assertions have left me almost permanently altered in both the ability to conduct reason and judgment. I now fear for whatever may be exacted upon my partner.

"But Kocho-sa—"

"Please, Tomioka-san..." I plead with a more faint voice and disheartened tone, "do it for my sake..."

A few seconds of silence transpire before Tomioka-san speaks again: "Okay. I won't trouble you."

".... Thank you," I said somberly.

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Giyuu

I'm in a dark place.

There's nothing.

It's all pitch-black.

"Ara, Tomioka-san," a voice calls out from behind.

I turn around to find Kocho... Kanae... smiling.

Funny, I was expecting it to be Shinobu.

"I suppose Shinobu and I are very similar—we are sisters after all," she said in a light-hearted tone.

What? Can she hear me?

"Yes, I can hear your thoughts, Tomioka-san," said Kanae, "it's pretty neat, isn't it?"

Is this a dream? Maybe one of those 'lucid' dreams people talk about.

"Maybe, maybe not. Who knows!" she exclaimed.

Then where am I exactly?

"It's probably your subconsciousness acting up," Kanae suggests, "but I wouldn't know!"

Why are you here?

"Good question!"

...?

"I wouldn't know though!"

Oh. I see.

Huh.

When she was alive, the Flower Hashira and I rarely spoke. Maybe when all the Hashiras would convene would we engage in a few exchanges, but it was mostly through Shinobu that I had the greatest opportunity to converse with her.

"Indeed! Shinobu used to always mention you in several conversations! Sometimes she would complain about your odd behavior, but then, other times, she would actually compliment you! It was interesting listening to her opinions about you!"

Is that so...

"Yep! And I think she had a crush on you too!"

What—

"She would talk about how different you were from the rest. How you harbored a stronger sense of duty and respect for your position than anyone else. She really admired that side of you!"

Huh...

"Although, she did feel sorry for you as well..."

Sorry for me?

"Yep! She would mention how you always looked woeful, and that your inscrutable eyes looked like they were carrying all the sadness in the world."

She's quite observant.

"Indeed she is!"

Why are you telling me all of this?

"Because, Tomioka-san, I'm no longer on this Earth. I am no longer there for her."

Yeah, I remember. Your passing was a great shock to us all.

"Yes, but I'm afraid it has affected Shinobu more than anyone else," her smile dissipates.

What do you mean?

"When we lost our parents to demons, I pledged myself to the Demon Slayer Corps so that no one else would have to go through what we did. I didn't want Shinobu to join, but she came along anyway," she explained.

"I thought our service would be a coping mechanism to help the two of us move on from our parents' deaths. Unfortunately, I may have instead condemned my dear sister to a mindset of treating her service as more of a sacrosanct pact than a trip to therapy."

That was obviously going to happen. The Corps inculcates the virtues of one's devotion to the cause of eliminating all demons from the face of the Earth. I'm sure your sister got caught along with that.

"No. It's more than that. She, of course, believes in those virtues. But she also supplements it with her own ambitions."

Ambitions?

"An obsession for revenge has consumed her. It has invaded every aspect of her being—her thoughts, decisions, and stratagems all stem from this innate yearning to kill and avenge."

Obsession?

"She is willing to go to extreme lengths in order to accomplish what she has set out to do. She has disregarded her own livelihood."

Now that sounds familiar.

"Indeed. But she has a clear, definite goal. And she will not die before she achieves it, but will not live to see the fruits of her labor either," she adds poignantly.

'Will not live'...? What the hell does that mean?

A frown materializes on her face, "I deprived her of a normal life. If I hadn't been so selfish, then maybe Shinobu would've been able to live in peace. But, alas, here we are. One dead Hashira, and the rise of another blood-hungry one."

I still don't understand. How is your sister's life in danger?

"You will find out," she answers.

How? I need answers—

"Tomioka-san, would you protect someone like my sister?" she interrupts.

That's an odd question.

"How so?"

Because it's a given that I would. My obligations as a Hashira stipulate that I defend the innocent at all costs.

"Yes, as the Water Hashira you are guaranteed to do so. But what about Tomioka-san; the man behind the mask of Hashira? What would he do as an individual rather than as a fighter?"

What?

"You say that your duties as a Hashira compel you to protect Shinobu. But what about upholding that promise as a friend, as Tomioka-san?"

...

"What makes you so hesitant?"

Because Tomioka-san already failed to protect too many people. He can't be entrusted with anyone else.

"Is that so..."

Yes.

"You might be surprised at how effective an appeal to emotions—talking person to person—is at persuasion. Abstract ideas such as duty are fine, but they won't save her."

Ok, but how exactly is Kocho-san in dange—

"She is terribly lonely."

... Yes.

"She needs someone."

I know.

"Will you be there for her?"

...

"Unless you speak from the soul unless you give her a purpose that will fill that hole in her heart, then nothing will change. She will die like the rest of them. And I don't want that. As her elder sister, I only wish for her to live a happy life free of any emotional burdens. But only you can do it, Tomioka-san."

But I can't make any promises—

"Only you can save her."

How exactly am I supposed to do that? How is Kocho-san in harm's way? And why are you telling me all of this? I still have so many questions.

My inquiries were never to be answered, however.

She was already gone.

In the blink of a second, Kocho Kanae had disappeared, and all that was left was eternal darkness.

What the hell? What just happened?

I subsequently feel a jabbing, penetrating sensation repeatedly dripping on me. However, the numbing effect wasn't produced at a sporadic rate; it had a constant rhythm to it. I look right above me to observe the source of this obtrusive, incessant pattern that had beleaguered me.

It appears to be raining. There were dark clouds in the sky; the likes of which emanated a mournful evocation of grief.

I hear sobbing.

I turn to my right to find a grave situated right ahead.

There, a familiar, young girl was sitting on her knees. Her hands concealed her face as she wept with no end.

I begin to walk towards her.

"Nee-san... Nee-san..." she said dolefully.

I knew who this was. This was a far too recognizable scene; it was directly from my memories.

I knew who that girl was, and for whom she was crying.

"Kocho-san..." I reach for her shoulder.

Then, she was gone as well.

She vanished along with the grave and the downpour.

I am left wholly confused. What is all of this? What's it trying to say? What was she trying to say?

I didn't have time to dwell on the subject, as I heard something rapidly converging onto me.

I look behind.

It was a gargantuan tsunami of a purple liquid substance.

I couldn't identify the type of liquid—whether it is water or not—nor did I have the time to do so; the inundation easily submerged me into its grasp and aggressively dragged me even farther into the darkness.

Due to a lack of preparations and premature warnings of its coming presence, I struggled to stay conscious due to the sheer scarcity of oxygen within my bodily systems.

But from the very first second I came in contact with this flood, I was able to determine that this was anything BUT water.

I don't know what it was. But it was incredibly uncomfortable; it was burning my ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. It was like this substance was intended to hurt, or possibly kill someone. I was suffocating.

Once again, I saw her.

It was Shinobu—older now.

She appeared to be unconscious and in a prolonged state of dormancy.

I couldn't communicate with her, due to the aforementioned deluge, so I tried to make my way to her.

Then, like all the other settings, this one reset.

Abruptly, the enormous wave magically receded from view.

I dropped to the floor, surprisingly still free of moisture or liquid—I was still dry. I gasped for air.

I grunted as, although I had alighted from the cascade, I had landed on my side. Albeit, it wasn't as bad thanks to the grass—which has suddenly manifested itself on the ground.

I slowly stood straight as I attempted to scan the vicinity.

There were Wisteria trees.

Being highly effective in warding off demons, the luminescence of the purple Wisteria flowers brought forth an enticing charm that could enthrall the visages of any given person—regardless of whether they are aware of its true purpose or not.

However, I didn't pay too much attention to my surroundings; I needed to scour the area for Kocho-san.

Before I could commence walking, though, I heard a door shut to my rear.

I turn around and find a door merely standing there—no walls, no windows, or no buildings to bestow upon the instrument with its divine purpose.

I turn the knob and open the door.

I walk in.

It's a wooden hallway.

Interesting.

It appears I am acquainted with this place; it's the halls and corridors of the Butterfly Mansion.

I overhear footsteps.

From my peripheral vision, I detect a familiar haori and a figure turning a corner.

Kocho-san.

"Kocho-san!" I yelled as I bolted over to the direction she was last seen.

I turn the corner.

Nothing.

She's nowhere to be found.

Goddamnit, how long is this cat-and-mouse chase going to last?

Upon pivoting my body to the right, I noticed that the door that hitherto was to my right—now it's in front of me—is Kocho-san's office room.

I turn the doorknob.

It's locked.

I knocked several times, "Kocho-san, are you there?"

Silence.

She's not answering.

Thankfully, there's a window for me to observe her.

I gaze in through the window.

She's sitting on a chair and organizing some bottles—probably medicine—on her desk.

She promptly picks up one with her left hand while lifting a stray syringe with her right. She swiftly inserts the implement into the bottle and accrues a portion of the bottle's liquid content into the instrument.

Is she performing an inoculation? What exactly for?

Then, I spot the syringe that is due to be administered for the intravenous inoculation. And, within its barrel, I could distinguish the contents which it harbored; it was some sort of a purple fluid—the likes of which I've never seen.

Wait a minute.

I know what that stuff is. It's the same thing that violently awashed me earlier.

She pulls her sleeve up.

What is she doing... She better not be...

The syringe proceeds to hover over her elbow joint.

She's going to do it.

I begin slamming the window and shouting, "Kocho-san! Don't do it!"

The needle is approaching her skin.

"Don't! For Kami-sama's sake, don't!"

The clock is ticking. My time is limited. I can't do anything.

"Kocho-san!!!"

Using her thumb, she pushes the plunger down and releases the toxins into her bloodstream.

"Fuck!" I start kicking the door over and over.

With my full force, I knocked the door open and ran in.

And just like that, I was no longer in either Kocho-san's room or the Butterfly Mansion in general.

I had now found myself in a much more sinister place.

The fabric of this very 'world' was much more menacing.

The bright, yellow radiance of the sun is replaced by the dim, red luster of a Full Moon.

The bright blue sky is substituted by an invidious, chilling, blood-like red color that encompasses the entirety of the atmosphere—this is mostly the byproduct of the Moon's display.

The ambiance of the setting is also immediately lost, as the initial serenity is subsequently replaced by the dreadful proliferation of death.

My feet and knees feel wet. It appears I'm walking in some shallow water.

I scour the area, looking for her.

There was nothing but shallow water as far as the eye could see.

I trudge through the water.

There's something off about the water. Its viscosity is different; it feels heavier and denser. I begin to suspect that this isn't water at all.

I dipped my index finger into the 'water' and proceeded to study its makeup.

I sniffed it and subsequently rubbed my thumb with my index finger—which carried the liquid—together as a means to evaluate its structure.

This isn't water.

It's blood.

I'm walking in a sea of blood.

Normally, an inexperienced individual would panic and undertake desperate attempts to escape this nightmare.

But, since I've seen these sorts of things frequently in my dreams, I suppose I am somewhat used to it.

I see something in the distance.

I drag myself over to inspect it.

As I get closer to this figure, the more I can distinguish its configurations.

It's a body.

I gulp back my uneasiness.

I have a feeling that I am already au courant with its identity, but I don't want to acknowledge it nor give it credibility—I refuse to do so.

No. It's not her. It can't be her. I won't believe it. I won't allow it!

The more I close the distance, unfortunately, the more evidence is amassed for my worst fear.

Dear God, please don't do this... Please...

Each step feels heavier than the previous one.

At some point, I have forgotten whether this is reality or not. But it feels too real.

Don't do this to me again. Don't let it be like with Nee-san, Makomo, or Sabito. I'm begging you. I beseech you to not let this be the truth.

I wish I could stop walking, turn around and go the other way. I could forget about everything—just pretend it never existed in the first place. Delude myself. That's the easy way out.

But I persist. It's like I'm digging my own grave.

I don't want to believe it... I won't believe it... I refuse to believe it...

I reach the figure. It's a body—lifeless and unable to comprehend its surroundings anymore.

It's Shinobu.

I land on my knees. Blood encases my uniform, but I don't care—I can't even feel it.

She's afloat on the blood, lying on her back. A stream of blood is still flowing out of her mouth. Her eyelids are still wide open—thus, her amethyst eyes are still conspicuously disclosed for the world to see. Her fair skin was still smooth, still untattered. She still wielded her Nichirin Blade in her right hand.

She carried an expression of despair. Tears had been falling down her cheeks beforehand—though they were unable to reach the ground due to her posture.

And yet, even with her painful countenance, her body looked graceful—as if she had undergone a peaceful demise. But I know that's wrong.

I choke.

A sorrow as black as the night outside invades me, and I feel my throat clamping.

No.

Why? Why? Why?

My head feels heavy again. It hurts. I feel dizzy. The world is spinning, turning upside-down, going sideways—it's going in every direction.

My hands are violently shaking. They just won't stop.

"Why... WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE?! WHY CAN'T YOU KILL ME?!" I shout at the top of my lungs.

Silence.

"ANSWER ME!!!" I growl.

Silence.

"YOU COULD'VE TAKEN ME!! WHY HER?! WHY!!!"

Silence.

"I DESERVED IT!!! I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO!! NOT HER!!"

They have declined to answer me.

"I deserved it..." I said, panting, "I deserved it..."

I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like gas and float away, melt into this nightmarish scene and dissolve somewhere far, over this red ocean. But I am here, my legs are blocks of stone, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.

What form of torture is this? What punishment had I committed for this to happen? Are the sins of my past still unanswered? Have I done something to cause this?

I can't think properly. Too much stress.

I failed her, didn't I? Just like with everyone else.

I hear an erratic breathing cycle and realize it is mine, my lips are salty with the tears trickling down my face.

With each second, I take in an obtrusive inhale and exhale as the body's quench for oxygen exceeds all expectations and reasoning.

I will get you out of here, Kocho-san

Though my spasmodic hands were still unreliable, I carefully placed one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back—I lifted her bridal style.

I stood up.

The world shifted its form again. This time, I was back in the Wisteria forest, except I was still half-submerged in liquid—albeit, it was water in this instance, not blood.

"Kocho-san... I'm sorry," looking directly into her lifeless eyes, I beg for forgiveness, but cannot expect it to be given.

I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you.

(Credit goes to the artist)

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"NO!" Giyuu screamed, gasping for air as he encountered the predicament that is hyperventilation.

His senses were heightened; he was on edge. A plethora of sweat dripped down his forehead. An abstract, yet substantial, sound of high-pitched ringing encompassed his eardrums; they served as an indication for his state of Hyperesthesia.

"Tomioka-san! What's wrong?!" Shinobu immediately comes to her comrade's aid.

Giyuu looks at her.

Never had he been so glad to see someone. Never had he, since his youthful days, sought comfort in the presence of someone else.

Never was he this emotional for someone.

He wanted to hug her. Embrace her and keep her safe forever. He never wanted to let go of her again. He never wanted her to get hurt again.

But he restrained himself. He can't show his vulnerable side now.

And he also isn't sure if what he saw was the truth or not—especially with Shinobu's inoculation

One glance at the purple amethyst color—which defined a certain portion of Shinobu's hair—that elucidated and emitted a vibrant, enriching irradiation, and he was instantaneously captivated by this spectacular display of art and beauty. He could never fully appreciate her. Which is why he can never lose her.

"Kocho....-san..." Giyuu blurted.

"Did something happen, Tomioka-san? Please tell me. I'm right here. What happened?" She propounds a series of questions and proposals.

Her worried face oddly reassured him; it was incontrovertible evidence of her continued existence.

Within due time, however, Giyuu managed to quickly pull himself together and attenuated all of his augmented senses back into their respective standards. He also ameliorated his breathing pattern to help calm down the nerves and allow for more logical processes to take hold of his cognitive functions.

'Forget it. Don't try to remember it,' he told himself

"Sorry, it was just a dream," he answered.

"Nightmare?" she queried.

"... yeah," he said.

"Ok... What was it about?" she asked.

Giyuu wanted to tell her everything—her sister, the grave, the flood, the Wisteria poison, and... her death. But he couldn't muster up the courage to do so. He couldn't look her straight into the eyes and claim that he saw her inserting large amounts of poison into her bloodstream, or that he carried her corpse.

No, he just couldn't do it.

"It was... just about personal stuff," he tried to deflect the question.

"What exactly...?" she pressed.

"Parents and family past," Giyuu fabricated, knowing that this was a good excuse since a lot of the other orphans within the Corps had the same problem.

"Tomioka-san, you're lying," she stated plainly.

Shinobu, being a connoisseur when it came to masks and lies—as her feigned personality is the manifestation of both—could almost immediately identify and refute Giyuu's lies. She knew something was up.

"... Sorry," Giyuu acquiesced.

"Please, you can be honest with me," she implored.

Shinobu knew that this was quite serious. Never had she seen Giyuu in such a disturbed state of mind. It honestly frightened her to find the aloof, composed Water Hashira distressed by some vision he had. His usual attitude was almost like a stabilizing factor for her; a guarantee that this man would remain calm no matter the circumstances—and, therefore, present a calming disposition to the team dynamic when it was needed the most.

'I suppose I depend on him more often than not,' she notes.

"It was..." Giyuu had to choose his next words carefully, "... about my older sister."

It worked this time.

"I see. I never knew you had an older sister," said Shinobu.

This was certainly a surprise for her. All this time, Giyuu never once mentioned his family—maybe sometimes with some implicit innuendo, but that, too, was a rare occurrence. Like so many others, Shinobu correctly assumed that Giyuu's family was deceased, but didn't know the specifics as to why or who they were exactly.

Especially with this revelation that he had an older sister—just like her—Shinobu's interest was piqued already. She wanted to explore this aspect of Giyuu she never got to know.

"Her name was Tomioka Tsutako. She basically raised me on her own," he explained.

Giyuu, hoping to distract himself from that horrible nightmare, was willing to go on a tangent about his own life. After all, while he knew a good amount of Shinobu's story, his was still concealed—so, she did reserve the right to know about a fellow Hashira's background.

In any case, he trusted Shinobu more than anyone else. So, telling her this wasn't the least of his concerns.

"On her own? What about your parents?" Shinobu inquired.

"I never knew them. From what my sister told me, my mother died in childbirth, and my father... my sister rarely talked about him," Giyuu delineated.

Shinobu frowned, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not like you haven't had the same experience," Giyuu replied.

'I should be the one apologizing to you,' Giyuu said internally.

"Yes..." she looked down, "that's right."

"Killed by a demon?"

"Yeah. Right in front of us. We wouldn't have survived were it not for the slayer who came in the nick of time to save Nee-san and me," she expounded.

"I see..."

"And what about your sister, what was she like?" Shinobu asked.

"She was a calm, collected character who was essentially like my mother. She would work long hours at her work, manage the family's finances responsibly, and discipline me into becoming an adult. She was more mature than I could ever be," he explicated.

"She must've been a great sibling."

"Yeah. She was too great for me," said Giyuu.

"Well, younger siblings sometimes have an impossible hurdle to overcome when it comes to surpassing their elder siblings," Shinobu observes.

"True. My sister was relentless; she would look for decent-paying jobs nonstop and then bargain with her bosses constantly in order to earn the same annual wages as male workers. I very much admire her for that," Giyuu explained.

"That sounds awfully like Nee-san," she jokes.

"She had to essentially fight tooth and nail for the creation of the Butterfly Estate, as property near the Headquarters was heavily regulated. But, in the end, she succeeded and built that Mansion there," Shinobu added.

"The Flower Hashira did seem like a reasonable individual," Giyuu recalls.

"Haha, maybe around the Hashiras. But, whenever I would be alone with her, she would act like an irresponsible parent—an example would be forgetting to do some of the chores, and then playing it off by acting all innocent! At the time, I found it extremely annoying, But, now, it's just amusing," she chuckles.

"Huh. That's certainly a new perspective," Giyuu notes.

"We all have our public personas... Except maybe you," said Shinobu.

"Me?"

"Yep! A broken record at work, and still a broken record at home," Shinobu pokes some fun at her partner.

"That's not true," Giyuu disputed.

"Well, then let me ask you this: Do you have any friends that you meet with outside of work?"

"No."

"And anyone at work?"

"You."

"Exactly, nobod— huh?" Shinobu loses her focus.

"We're friends... right?"

"Of-of course!" Shinobu nearly lost her composure there.

'I hate it when he does stuff like that, it's always too abrupt!' Shinobu mentally cursed herself, yet felt gratified by Giyuu's declaration of their everlasting friendship.

"Then I guess you're my only friend," said Giyuu.

"Well, you are the lonely Water Pillar, after all," Shinobu jests.

"I know. This reminds me of how I would lie to my sister about having friends at school. When, in reality, I was normally beaten up or belittled," Giyuu reminisces.

"You were beaten up?" Shinobu, her interest aroused once again, asks.

"Some of the guys in my class didn't like my attitude for whatever reason. So, they would find opportunities to teach me a lesson," he explained.

"While I don't condone bullying, I can understand the attitude part," Shinobu jokes.

Giyuu looks at her with a bewildered face.

"It's a joke, Tomioka-san. Ever heard of it?"

"Yes... I have."

"Good."

The discussion reaches a dead end. While Giyuu didn't mind this, as he was used to it, Shinobu wasn't satisfied.

She very much enjoyed this particular conversation with Giyuu, especially when it came to learning about each other's families and sisters. She wished for the exchange to be prolonged.

Never before had she spoken so much about her sister to someone. And never had she engaged with a unique side to Giyuu's personality—his past and how he describes it.

'Just a little more. I want to talk to him a little more,' Shinobu contemplates.

She tries to concoct another topic within seconds.

"Ne, Tomioka-san, what will you do after all of this?" Shinobu suddenly asks. She immediately regrets asking this—not because of Giyuu's answer, but the answer she will have to give.

"After what?" said Giyuu.

"After everything. After you leave the Corps, or when all Demons have been eliminated," she clarified.

"That seems highly improbable," Giyuu notes.

"Just answer the question," Shinobu says passive-aggressively.

"I've never thought about it. I've always assumed that my future was with the Corps..."

"Ara-ara, Tomioka-san, are you telling me that you don't have any such plan?" Shinobu jests.

Giyuu returns with a deadpan face, "No, I do actually."

"Oh? What is it? Travel the world? Live a life of financial pleasure? Or maybe settle down and start a family," Shinobu didn't know why, but the last statement made her upset when it was concerning Giyuu.

"No... My father's side of the family owns a few parcels of land in the mountains. Since no one has been willing to tend to it, I'm thinking of relocating myself up there and overseeing the property."

"How intriguing, living the life of a humble farmer, huh?" Shinobu comments.

"I doubt there will be anything to grow there."

"You'll never know," Shinobu grins.

"... And what about you?" Giyuu reciprocates.

Shinobu bit her tongue.

"I reckon that I'll remain in the Butterfly Estate, transforming it into a non-profit hospital," she lied.

"That's a good idea. The Estate has done a great service for the Corps; it will be just as beneficial for the public," Giyuu states.

"Yes, indeed!" She was trying her best to feign a full dedication to such a proposition.

Giyuu only just realized that he was wrapped up in a plethora of bandages.

"You did all of this?" he questions.

"Well, I did say that you needed professional medical assistance," Shinobu quips.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Probably a couple of hours or so," she answers.

"Then you should get some sleep, Kocho-san," Giyuu propounds.

"What? Of course not," she replies.

"I'll take watch."

"Not in that physical state, Tomioka-san," Shinobu retorts.

"I'm perfectly fine now."

"No, you are not."

"I can now stand and walk around," said Giyuu.

"Hardly an accomplishment for a Hashira," Shinobu ripostes.

"You've already gone through the trouble of taking care of me, so allow me to return the gesture," Giyuu said placidly.

"Tomioka-san," a vein protruded itself on Shinobu's forehead, "I didn't 'trouble' myself when I treated you because it's my job."

"You still rest though," Giyuu countered.

"I don't—"

"Kocho-san," Giyuu suddenly says sternly, "I'm not asking you."

Shinobu sighed, "Fine. I'm only doing it because your injuries weren't too terrible when I looked over them."

"Thank you."

"By the way, what should we do about the mission? Continue or call for reinforcements?" Shinobu asks.

"From what I saw down here, I think it's best if we continue our task uninterrupted. Sending more down here will only lead to more deaths. This is clearly a task for a Hashira and no one else," Giyuu justifies his stance.

"I agree. The enemy clearly has unique powers—the likes of which we've never seen," Shinobu agreed.

"You encountered it? The demon?" Giyuu asks.

"No, not exactly. But I was lulled into a 16-year-long sleep because of a Blood Demon Art. It was extraordinarily strong and extremely difficult to deactivate," Shinobu explains.

"16 years..." even Giyuu was utterly surprised, "what was it exactly?"

"Oh, it was 16 years with my family in another era. Nothing much," Shinobu feigned a calm expression.

But Giyuu was shocked. Sixteen years with your deceased loved ones? It would take someone with extreme levels of mental fortitude to give all that up for this world. His respect for Shinobu only grows by the day.

"I see. I'm glad you're back," Giyuu slightly nods.

Shinobu smiles, "The pleasure is mine."

'Her smile. Her real one... It's beautiful...' Giyuu mentally notes.

Giyuu's determination to safeguard Shinobu had grown tremendously; after what he had seen and experienced, he had vowed not to let that fate befall his partner.

Nevertheless, there were a few things that disturbed him. The injection of the Wisteria poison revelation along with Kanae's forewarnings made him suspicious of Shinobu's intentions.

Additionally, despite his suspicions, he wasn't sure whether those visions were accurate or not. He can't just ask Shinobu, because she will deny it irrespective of whether she is telling the truth or not.

And finally, assuming everything he heard and saw is true—from his long, insightful conversation with Kanae along with the medical deeds of Shinobu—then how is any of that conceivably possible? He knows that he's a mere human; his premonitions are almost always inaccurate.

Giyuu begins to postulate whether a demon was really behind all of that—just as it was behind Shinobu's 16-year dream.

If so, then how powerful is this enemy that they are due to face?

Will they be able to defeat it?

Only the test of time will tell.