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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Oh boy... this is a long one. My longest one yet, in fact.

Feel free to point out any mistakes, if you find some—since I'm sure that a chapter this long is bound to have errors.

Also, I had to look through Chapters 142-144 of the Manga for this section.

So... Manga spoilers?? But I'm sure everyone here knows what exactly happens anyway.

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Giyuu

Laughter.

Smiles.

Flowers.

Happiness.

These four distinct characteristics could be discerned within the vicinity of this particular setting. I fervently laugh as I aimlessly run through the myriad of flowers prevalent within this particular heath. Tsutako smiles as she spectates my outburst of jubilance; she is happy, I am happy. It was a happy time.

"Nee-san!" I called out as I turned around and scampered my way towards my beloved sister.

My only family.

The only one who always looked out for me with her loving embrace.

The mother I never knew.

Without her, I'd be nothing and no one;

I would do everything to protect this moment and this life; to protect her.

"Nee-san!" I exclaim as I approach her.

Her arms open up, both extending out in a manner that conspicuously served as an indication for a warm, affectionate hug. In response, I willingly and gladly jumped into her embrace.

"Giyuu..." she said in an almost melancholic tone.

Taking notice of this abnormal and sudden transition in my sister's demeanor, I asked, "What's wrong Nee-san?"

"Why are you crying?" she asks concerningly.

I stop.

Crying?

I could feel teardrops gradually flowing down my cheeks.

"Huh? Why am I crying? Why...?" I ask myself.

She's gone.

Everything's gone.

It's all pitch-black.

"Right... It's only a dream..."

She's no longer here. You never protected her, you never protected this life.

..

..

I'm accoutered in my Demon Slayer Corps uniform.

My eyes are dry.

Huh. That was odd.

I stand alone in this infinite space of nothingness.

I feel nothing. No emotions, no physical discomforts, or even confusion in the setting to which I now find myself.

But I do feel somewhat absent-minded. After all, there is literally nothing here.

"What are you afraid of?" a deep, sinister voice suddenly calls out.

I'm a little perplexed by this idiosyncratic event, but I decide to play along nonetheless.

"Nothing."

"..."

"Nonsense," it scolds.

"What?"

"Fear is everywhere. You cannot escape it," the voice boomed.

I begin to feel a little agitated.

Is it because of this scary voice? No. It's something else. I feel like I'm going to see something I would rather not.

But it's already too late.

The world transmutes.

..

..

It was the middle of the night.

I'm in a dark hallway.

The pale shimmer of the moon shines brightly, giving some degree of light to allow my optical organs to visualize the proximity.

I hear something.

There's something around the corridor.

I start walking towards thither.

With each step I take, the heavier the next one is. I can hear myself panting as if I'm running out of breath.

Am I tired? No. That's not it.

My senses are extremely volatile, I was on edge. Everything, from my eyes, ears, nose, and so on are oscillating between an enhanced manifestation of itself or a depreciated iteration.

To put it simply, one minute, my vision is blurry, my hearing is able to pick up everything, and my sense of touch is muted. But next, I see things clearly, I can't even hear my own footsteps, and my skin is extremely sensitive.

My trek to the corner feels like an eternity. I haven't experienced this level of anxiety for a while now.

But once I reached the precipice of the corner's edge, I came to a revelation.

I'm scared. I'm scared of what I'm about to see.

I forge on nonetheless.

I turn the corner.

I see a large figure crouching, his back faces me. It was prostrated to the ground. Its head was slumped towards the floor as it sat on its knees—it looked like it was genuflecting or something.

It appeared to be eating something. I take a closer look.

Then, it hit me. I recognize this place, this hallway.

It's the house my sister and I resided in.

Wait...

I know this scene. It's from my memories.

No.

The radiance of the scintillating moonlight shines upon the small corridor.

I can now look at the scene with clarity.

My sister's body lies there, lifeless and unresponsive—a corpse without a doubt. Her face is but an apathetic void.

And that tall figure? A demon. The demon who killed my sister.

I am at a standstill. I can't even move a muscle. I'm in total shock.

Never in my lifetime would I have assumed that the universe would grant me the ability to witness this horrific, atrocious scene once again.

The demon grunts, and then turns around.

He looks at me straight in the eyes. I look right back at him.

It starts to chuckle, "Looks like I'll have plenty for tonight."

I bolted.

I ran as fast as I humanely could. My legs felt like gel; I was putting all my effort into this sprint, but I still felt weak and unable to go any quicker.

*Wheeze* *Wheeze* *Wheeze*

My respire had become incoherent and inconsistent. My lungs feel coarse and substantially heavier than before.

My head is racing. A million thoughts are coruscating my thought processes; I can't think straight.

I don't know for how long I was sprinting, but the endless maze of hallways and corridors gives the impression that I'm going nowhere.

I stop to catch my breath.

I look over my shoulder to ascertain the disposition of the demon. It's not here. Thank god.

I then faced forward.

"AH!" I jumped back in fear.

My sister stood in front of me. Except, there was something terribly wrong.

"Giyuu..." she calls out ominously.

A cascade of blood is falling from her soma like a waterfall.

Her eyes have been gouged out. The bowels and other organs within the intestinal region are just casually hanging out of her stomach or incrementally falling down. She's missing her left arm.

"N-Nee...-san..." I stutter.

"Why didn't you save me...?"

No. No. No. No. No.

Using both of my hands, I cover my ears and shut my eyelids. I fall to my knees and hum quietly—trying to desperately ignore the nightmarish figure who stood right in front of me.

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.

I repeat that thought over and over for what felt like forever.

This isn't the first time I've seen her like that; the image has been etched into my memory and thoughts.

This is why, in the duration of these lucid dreams, I try different methods to bring some sanity back to my dreamscape.

This is one of them.

..

..

I hesitantly open my eyes and unfasten my grip on the ears.

I'm back in this infinite void again.

I exhale.

It was only my imagination.

Then, from my peripheral vision, I spot something in the distance.

I turn to my right to discern its shape.

At first, it looked to be a purple dot in the distance.

Within due time, however, it gradually got bigger and bigger.

It was a butterfly. The majority of its surface-level skin is tinged by the purple iris color. It emitted an amethyst glimmer that graciously brought some variation to the dull blackness of this void.

Acting on impulse, I raised my right hand and permitted the being to land on my index finger.

I examine it.

It was majestic. It was beautiful.

It reminds me of a certain someone. I feel comforted by that thought.

The butterfly thereupon flew away.

I followed it with my eyes as it proceeded into the darkness.

..

..

I was in a room.

I instantly recognized it.

It's Kocho-san's office.

Then, I hear a voice: "You're the only one other than Oyakata-sama whom I managed to have a decent conversation with; as, in most cases, I have discussions lasting from 1 to 5 seconds."

It was me. That's my voice.

I turn around and see two individuals: Kocho-san and... me?

"Pfft—" the girl lets out a laugh, "hahaha! What the heck! Watching you say something absolutely pathetic with a serious composure is hilarious!"

"Well nevermind then," I—or, rather, the other Giyuu—said irritably.

Ah... This is when Kocho-san and I first met...

"I'm sorry, haha," Shinobu says as she rebounds from the laughter, "I just found it very intriguing."

"Intriguing? Why's that?"

"That out of all the slayers in the corps, I'm the only one who can legitimately converse with the likes of you; even though I'm not exactly the most sociable character on the planet," she explained.

She certainly was different back then. More reserved and less overt.

I daresay that I appreciate more of that side to her personality. It's authentic. It's real. It's not a mask she hides behind...

"But you certainly are a unique one."

"Is that so? Even I cannot embellish myself with such compliments," Shinobu says jokingly.

"I say it with sincerity; you do strike me as an interesting individual," I nonchalantly replied.

I really said that?

"O-Oh, I'm honored," Shinobu answered.

"No, I must stand honored by your gestures, Kocho Shinobu. Not only have you treated my injuries, but you've also demonstrated an altruistic spirit of goodwill in your efforts to improve my health by inducing me to regularly visit the Butterfly Mansion—no matter how extreme the measures may seem," I said as I gave the most comprehensive bow possible from my irregular, seated posture.

A pang of deep-seated guilt grows within me.

Why do I always forget these things... the most important things.

I seldom go to the Butterfly Mansion nowadays, even if I'm hurt.

I begin to wonder how things could've ended up this way.

"W-Why thank you..." she said timidly, completely baffled and embarrassed by this sudden show of gratitude from whom she initially perceived to be a cold, unyielding man.

"Also, in compliance with your orders, I will be present at the Estate following every mission—no matter how extensive it may be—for a minor check-up," I declared.

I'm sorry, Kocho-san. I broke that oath.

"That's... splendid," she said, still reeling from his previous pronouncements.

"I am at your service, Kocho-san," I added.

Was it all inevitable? What could I have done to fix things?

The setting changes once again.

..

..

I was still in Kocho-san's study.

But, everything else was different.

The room looked messier, the atmosphere was tenser, and the two individuals from before were now more quiet and morose.

I see Kocho-san extend her arm out towards my direction.

*Tug*

Using her index finger and thumb, Shinobu clasps the sleeve of my haori.

"Don't leave... Stay..." she speaks softly.

The gesticulation took me by complete surprise. I didn't see any of this coming. What should I do?

Those were the thoughts I had at the time... How clueless I was.

I just wish that I could've handled this whole thing better.

I, however, can't read the room or her feelings. I fail to reciprocate her gesture.

I've always regretted this.

"Until we meet again, Future Hashira," I simply replied.

I freed my haori from her fingers.

I've always failed at the last second.

I then promptly extricate myself from the room, leaving only an invigorated, but sullen Shinobu on her own in the study.

I abandoned her. There's no need to extenuate this. I can't sugarcoat what happened here.

I should've been well aware of this. Why didn't I realize it at the time?

If only I stayed.

If only I helped her when she was in need of someone—anyone.

I wonder if this was how Urokodaki-sensei felt when he sent me off. That feeling of self-frustration, the feeling of failing to save people from themselves.

Maybe so.

I can only guess.

The background metamorphosizes.

..

..

"What do you fear," it commands.

"Nothing," I answered.

"Wrong again."

..

..

The transformation this time isn't immediate; the physical configurations of the next environment take their time to slowly morph into being.

By then, the butterfly had disappeared. What was it trying to show me?

I cautiously watch as my surroundings steadily reshape themselves.

"I once believed that the road of happiness continued forever and ever into the distance. When it was destroyed, I realized for the first time that it lies upon a thin sheet of glass."

"Huh?" I look around, trying to detect the source of this faint, but noticeable sound.

"And just as we were saved, there were those whose happiness that haven't yet been destroyed. So I wanted to get stronger and protect them. That's what we promised each other."

This sounds familiar, but the sound is too hushed and indistinct for me to make out its identity.

Even if we're weak and can't cut off demon heads, if we defeat one demon, we can save dozens of people."

A slayer?

"And if we can defeat an Upper-Rank Kizuki, we can save hundreds. It isn't about whether we can or cannot do."

No. Hashira.

"There are things we have to do."

I came to a sudden revelation.

"Kocho-san."

..

..

Whilst the remodeling and reorganizing of the dark chasm was done without delay, the formulation of the final product was simultaneously undertaken without haste.

Until then, I was tasked with merely watching the transfiguration.

Despite that seemingly mundane occupation, my thoughts were too preoccupied with another pressing matter.

Why was Kocho-san here? Where did she go? What the hell is even happening?

"It might all be in your head—" a feminine voice uttered.

"Huh?" I turn around.

"—or maybe not. I wouldn't know," she finishes.

"Kocho... Kanae...?" I gawk at the Flower Hashira in bewilderment.

"Hello, Water Hashira," she greets.

"Is this another dream...?" I cautiously ask.

"I'm in no place to answer that question, Tomioka-san. Although, I really don't know myself. After all, I'm just an image!" she jocundly exclaims.

"Why are you here?"

"Why else? To interrogate you, of course!"

"Interrogate me for what?"

"Well, that's the thing; I feel like I already know what you're going to say," she said.

"In what sense exactly..."

"Would you protect my dear sister?" she questioned.

"You've asked me this before..."

"And does that change anything?" she replies.

"... Of course I would protect her. I would do anything in my power," I answered.

"Because it's your duty to do so?" she inquires.

"Yes, but also because I want to."

"As Tomioka Giyuu?"

"No. As the Water Hashira."

"Why's that?"

"I already explained."

"You still don't have trust in yourself?" she asks.

"I never did."

She smiled, "You two have more in common than you'd think."

"With Kocho-san...?"

"Yep!"

"How so?"

"You both hide your personalities, your true nature. In other words, you and her wear a mask," she expounds.

"Mask? I would argue the metaphor is more applicable to Kocho-san," I counter.

"Is that so?"

"She imitates your mannerism and general appearance—even going as far as wearing your haori."

"Indeed. Although, the same could be said for you," she quips.

"Me?"

"Shinobu lives in a near-constant state of anger but hides it through a personality extrapolated from mine. Meanwhile, you live in a near-constant state of misery, but hide it through your cold, stoic image of the taciturn Water Hashira."

I was a little provoked by her assertions, "Not at all."

"I was only pointing out a fact, Tomioka-san," she retorts. "Not that I'm saying it's bad or anything!"

"Then what are you trying to say..."

"All I'm saying is that your way of thinking, how you perceive things, will directly contradict your objectives. If you're not willing to open up, then why should she be compelled into doing so as well?" the Flower Pillar explains.

"I'm not trying to make her open up, though," I reply.

"Then you won't succeed."

"How? As long as I'm around, as long as the Water Hashira simply upholds his duty, then there will be no harm done. I've already demonstrated it," I stand my ground.

"When taking things at face value, then yes, I suppose you've succeeded in that regard. But the threat that faces Shinobu isn't external, it's internal. It's her motivations, her aspirations, and her emotions that must be addressed. It's like I said before: She has a hole in her heart, and no one except you can fill it."

"I don't quite understand."

"Speak from the soul, Tomioka-san. Be the first to make the overture, convince her that you are someone she should confer with—someone who can share her burdens," she reiterates.

"..."

"Are you willing to do that much?"

"I'm not someone she should refer to," I answer.

"And why is that?"

"I'm no virtuous man, Flower Hashira. I have blood on my hands. I can't be the one who ought to guide her," I said.

"All the more reason to do so," she beamed.

I give a look of discombobulation.

"It's not just her who will benefit, it's also you. She can help you," she clarifies.

"She shouldn't. I will only hurt her."

"In what sense?"

"She..." I say hesitantly, "she might hate me if she found out—if she learned about my past sins and the fact that I'm nothing more than a coward. After all, Satō-san and Sabito were infuriated by my cowardly deeds—killing the people they loved the most."

"And that is what you fear?"

I look up to her, "Possibly."

She exhales, "You are more socially conscious than I imagined, Water Hashira."

"Maybe around the people closest to me," I correct.

"Which only includes her~" she jests.

".... I suppose."

"Speaking about that, have you made the connection yet?" she grins.

"Connection...?"

"Oh dear, you don't know yet? Even after you were shown all that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about..." I replied.

"In that case, why don't I show you a little something?" she suggests.

"What?" I queried.

The room, which—in the duration of the exchange—was still formulating its setting, finally completes its transition.

It was a large chamber furnished with traditional Japanese architecture. However, most of the room is defined by a shallow reservoir that constitutes a majority of the ground-level surface. There were a couple of lilypads situated atop the intramural pond. Nevertheless, there were a number of interconnected, jagged wooden bridges that enabled terrestrial beings to traverse the room.

"Where are we? What is this place?" I looked around.

"This place, Tomioka-san, is the Infinity Castle..."

What?

"Or, rather, one of its many lodgings," she adds.

"Is this a luxury resort?" I inquired.

"That would be nice," she jokes.

I felt a shiver as I noticed that the room temperature was abnormally below freezing. Why's this room so cold?

In fact, I could see the practice of condensation occurring for each of my breaths—permitting me to observe such air particles.

"Why is the temperature—" I stop.

I catch an extremely repugnant, riveting odor being emitted from this room.

It smells like blood.

I look over to my right side only to find mounds of corpses lying amok. The blood itself is splattered about like a fountain of water.

"What is this place," I said more sternly.

"I can't tell you that," she says somberly.

"Why?"

"Because this is what lies ahead," she answers.

"That's impossible."

"It's true, Tomioka-san."

"The future... This makes no logical sense. This whole thing is only a dream in my head," I contend.

The next few words she said shook me to the bone: "Who said anything about this being your dream?"

"It's... not?"

"While it's true that this is taking place all in your head, something else is showing you these prognostications," she delineates.

I frown, "And are you part of this ruse as well?"

"It's no ruse, Water Hashira."

"A prediction, then?"

"Not that either. Make no mistake, this IS the future," she maintains.

"This goes against the basic laws of nature and physics," I said, slightly irritated.

"Then whoever conjured up this scenario must be very talented," she said lightheartedly.

"No, they would be a God," I dispute.

"Maybe so. But it appears they only have the capacity to show you only this instance of upcoming events."

I sigh, "In any case, what's the point of showing me this...?"

"Watch closely."

*Thud*

I hear something not too far away. I turn my head in order to pinpoint the source.

My eyes widened.

"K-Kocho-san..." I was in shock.

She was in an absolutely abhorrent physical state. Her body was discharging scores upon scores of blood. It seems her collarbone and ribs have been hit.

"Kocho-san!" I yelled.

"She can't hear you," the Flower Hashira informed. "The world of the living is unable to hear either of us at the moment."

"You should have cut off my head instead of using poison. If you're that fast, you might have beaten me," a conceited, but equally, menacing voice enters the fray.

"Awww... Maybe not. Because you're small," it adds.

I look over to find this towering figure with a smug look on his face standing directly across Kocho-san.

What is that...

"That's Douma, Upper Rank Two of the Twelve Kizuki," the Flower Pillar says with a completely straight face.

Douma? The one who killed the Flower Hashira? That's him?

"He's a strong foe. Too strong for a single Hashira to mangle with," she adds grimly.

"Then what is Kocho-san doing here...? She should regroup with the other Hashiras and confront it together," I said, perplexed.

"She can't do that."

"What?! Why not?" I said indignantly.

"Circumstances aside, she simply won't allow it."

"That's not a valid explanation!" I expressed with exasperation.

"Oh, but it is. She is determined to kill him. She won't simply back out when given the chance to face Douma head-to-head in a high-stakes battle," the Flower Hashira provides the rationale.

I still couldn't grasp this illogical way of thinking, "I thought she had rid herself of those silly thoughts years ago!"

"You certainly did help in ameliorating its immediate effects, but you never addressed the long-term ramifications. All the warning signs are right in front of you, why can't you see? She has been consumed by her thirst for avenging me. It's as simple as that," the tone of the Flower Hashira's phonetic pattern has conspicuously shifted to a more serious, critical disposition.

I, too, was losing my composure. I was watching Kocho-san being thrashed around for God's sake! Plus, she's clearly dispirited and requires medical attention! She has to evacuate the premises!

"Why?! Why does she still pursue that inclination!!" I shout.

"Why? Look at yourself, Water Hashira. You haven't moved on from anything. What gives you the right to reprimand someone else for failing to cope with reality when you can't either? Ask yourself that first," she chastised.

"This isn't about me!" I lashed out.

"If you continue with that mindset, then this is where she will end up. Bloodied, incapable of breathing properly, and downtrodden. If you intend to save someone, start by saving yourself first," she rebuked.

"That's none of your business!"

"And what Shinobu can or cannot do is not yours either. One only has the power to influence, not manipulate. And—right now—you have the most influence over her, yes, but she won't divert from her current path unless you do the same."

"Path? I'm content with the path I'm on," I reply.

"That's quite the lie you've told me, Water Hashira," she retorts.

"Then what do you want me to do?!" I shout.

"Sit and watch," she replies.

"What do yo—"

*THUD*

Suddenly, my legs felt extremely heavy. I collapsed to the floor and couldn't move my lower body at all.

"What is this?" I asked.

"..."

"What is this, Flower Hashira," I repeated.

"Just watch," she simply answered.

The Flower Pillar began walking over to where Kocho-san was. Once she arrived at her destination, she stood directly in front of the despondent, wounded Insect Hashira.

I carefully watched, as told, and pondered what the Flower Hashira would do next. Was she going to communicate with her? Is that even possible given what she's relayed to me about the rules of this dreamscape?

"Pull yourself together. I won't allow you to cry," the Flower Hashira started.

"Stand up."

'I've lost so much blood, I can't stand. My left lung is punctured... and I can't breathe.'

That's Kocho-san... I can hear her thoughts clearly...

"That doesn't matter. Stand up... Insect Hashira Kocho Shinobu," she responded.

Interesting... so they can somehow interact...

"Once you decide to defeat a demon, defeat it. Once you decide to win, then win," she adds.

What. Wait no, that's not what you should be telling her. She needs to retreat, for crying out loud!

"Flower Hashira!" I called, "What are you trying to do?"

"Win, whatever the cost. You... made that promise with Kanao and me, didn't you?"

"What are you doing?! Don't encourage her!" I shout again.

*Creak* *Creak*

"Sorry, sorry. It wasn't a thorough cut, so you're suffering," Douma begins to proceed towards Kocho-san's position.

The elder sister then slightly embraces Kocho-san while she begins to shed tears as well, "Shinobu, you can do this. So do your best."

"Flower Hashira!!!" I tried once again.

Kocho-san, now invigorated, then stood up straight.

Douma's face expressed surprise at this recent development, "Huh? You can stand? You're standing? Wow... Are you really human?"

Kocho-san promptly turns around 180 degrees in the opposite direction to look unto him.

Her body was wholly unfit for another round of battle, but her mind was fixated on the notion of formally terminating this bloody engagement.

I attempt to converse: "Kocho-san! Get out of there!"

She couldn't hear me.

"I cut your collarbone, lungs, and ribs, but... for your size and with that much blood loss, I'm surprised you're not dead, but..." Douma starts.

Kocho-san was heavily panting and expectorating blood.

"Agh! See! The pain of the blood gurgling in your lungs is beyond imagining! Okay, I'll lop off your head right away, so don't overdo it! You're well beyond saving! So don't be so stubborn!" the demon added.

Dammit, he's right. Kocho-san's condition is too precarious!

"Kocho-san!!"

Nothing.

"Shit! Flower Hashira, let me go!" I glared at her.

"Just sit and watch, Water Hashira," she replies, her eyes still wet from before.

"Don't give me that bullshit!" I riposted. "You're allowing her to die!"

"Me? No, Water Hashira. Not me, YOU."

I angrily clench my teeth. She's not letting me do it!

"You allowed her to go down this dark path, Water Hashira. This will be the state of her mind in the near future. And now, it's too late to remedy anything. All because you were too indecisive and too insecure about approaching her," she gave me a slight glower.

"Then—!!"

"You say that you would do anything to protect her. But I guess that just means whenever it is convenient for you to ingratiate the self-image of a Hashira with a hero complexity. You're too cowardly to confront your own issues, which translates into you being unwilling to rectify her issues," she interrupts.

Cowardly.

I hated that word.

People have used it to shame me so many times. In some instances, it was unjustified. But, in others, they were right.

Which is why I detested it.

Because that one word is enough to describe me. It is enough to describe my past, my present, and my future.

"Let me go!" I said with vitriol.

"Just sit and wa—"

"I couldn't care less! Let me go!"

"... You really are easy to fool, huh? One second, you deny the existence of this setting, but, the next, you've tricked yourself into believing that this is reality," she pointed out curiously.

"What—!" I was to be interrupted again.

'Insect Breathing, Dance of the Centipede: Hundred-Legged Zigzag!' Kocho-san gave the incantation for her breathing technique.

She moved at blistering speeds; I couldn't track her motions with the naked eye.

She eventually executes a Kiriage (left-oriented, upward diagonal slice) Technique and impales Douma from below.

STAB

She strikes Douma directly through his neck.

CRASH

Kocho-san sends the Upper Two flying towards the ceiling—his musculature smashes against the roof.

She concurrently injects a dose of poison while doing so.

For a brief period, I actually thought that Kocho-san might emerge victorious—that my fears and the Flower Hashira's portends were all unfounded.

But, within a matter of a mere second and one single thought, everything changed.

'Why doesn't poison work on this guy? Bastard!' I can hear the predicament she was due to face now.

*THUD*

Kocho-san fell down to the wooden bridges, all of her energy reserves and willpower depleted.

Douma followed and then grabbed a hold of her.

I could only watch in horror from afar.

She's going to die. Do something.

She's going to die. Do something.

She's going to die. Do something.

She's going to die. Do something.

She's going to die. Do something.

The orders repeat nonstop, but to no avail.

DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING! CHOP OFF YOUR LEGS IF YOU HAVE TO!!!

"So admirable!! You've tried so hard! I'm impressed!! Such a weak girl doing so much! You don't have your older sister's talent, but you've done well as a demon hunter! It's a miracle you aren't dead yet! It's all pointless, you see, but you're stupid enough to keep trying! This is both the folly and wonder of humanity!" the Upper Two mocks.

"You are certainly worth eating! Let us live together for eternity! And last words? I'm listening," the demon finally concludes.

"Go to hell!" Kocho-san fired back.

*Slide*

The Shoji screen door was opened.

"Master!!" Tsuyuri Kanao appeared.

Douma, seeing this new opponent, jumps up to the ceiling once again with Kocho-san in his arms.

Tsuyuri-san instantly recognizes what exactly was happening and going to happen, and, thus, leaps as well in order to land a blow onto the Upper Two.

"WAAAAAH!" she screamed with both fear and anger.

Her attack, however, misses the target and Douma is back on ground level.

"Whoa... That's dangerous! Don't try to cut me when I'm right in the middle of absorbing someone!"

"Don't..." my voice trembles.

Kocho-san was being swallowed up by Douma.

"Please...!" I beg.

Her body is halfway through the demon's skin.

"DON'T DO IT!!!" I scream at the top of my lungs.

My pleas fall on deaf ears.

Kocho-san was now completely devoured by Douma.

"Anyway, tonight is a good night. Such fine feasts keep showing up one after another," the bastard demon maliciously smiles as he holds Kocho-san's purple butterfly ornament.

No...

No... No.... No..! NO...! NO!! NO!! NO!! NO!!!!! NOO!!!!!!!!!

"NOO!! AUUGGHGHH!!! KOCHO!!! KOCHO!!!!" I beseeched her.

Nothing.

"KOCHO!!! KOCHO!!!"

Nothing.

"ARRRR!!!!!! FUUUCCK! ARGGGGHHH!!!!"

I violently squirm my upper body around, but my lower body—which is essential for movement—won't abide by my commands.

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not re—

"GAAAAAAHH!!!!" I let out.

I was on my knees, screaming. Screaming through my clenched teeth. Screaming until I thought my throat would rip and my chest explode. But it was all pointless.

I was powerless. I couldn't do a damn thing.

Not one thing.

She was already dead.

..

..

I sat there. Unable to process anything.

I was in the black void again. Before I knew it, everything had already disappeared.

I only sat and watched. My legs were blocks of stone, my lungs empty of air, and my throat burning from all the shouting.

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

I hear the Kasugai Crow directly above me.

What is this hell...

How did things end up this way...?

Where did it all go wrong?

It keeps happening over, and over, and over, and over.

Every single time.

How do I stop it?

I need to know...

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

Why did you show this to me...

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

I've seen it already. I know what happens. Every goddamn time.

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"..."

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

I know that...

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

You don't have to repeat it...

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

Stop.

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

Stop that.

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

No...

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

Stop!

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

Please...

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

Please!

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

I SAID STOP DAMMIT.

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"AGGGHHHH!!!!" I cried in frustration. "FUCK! GOD DAMMIT!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"SHUT UP! I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"WHY?! WHY?!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE PEOPLE AROUND ME?! WHY CAN'T IT BE ME?!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"TELL ME, YOU FUCKING BIRD!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"ANSWER ME!!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"WHY AREN'T I THE ONE BEING SENT TO HELL!!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"I'D DO ANYTHING!! ANYTHING!! I'D EVEN EXCHANGE MY OWN LIFE FOR HERS!!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HER?! WHY?!"

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"WHY... Why... why... " I say, trying to catch my breath.

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"Oh god... why..." my voice starts shaking.

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"I need to know..."

"KAWWWW! DEAD!! KOCHO SHINOBU IS DEAD!! SHE DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!!"

"Why..." I whispered.

..

..

..

..

..

..

Shinobu

Trying to evade the enemy's attack isn't easy, especially with a broken leg.

The enemy makes a lunge towards me. Fortunately, I swiftly dodge the onslaught, but—in each passing instance—I only get slower and slower.

BAM

The failed assault by the enemy leaves a huge dent in the concrete wall.

I would've been immediately smashed into pieces if I were to be caught in that... Things aren't looking good.

All the planning and work Tomioka-san and I put into this strategy... all gone to waste.

What's worse, Tomioka-san is mortally wounded. He could die of blood loss... or maybe he's already...

No, dammit! I don't have time to think about that! I have to just assume that he survived that throw.

Right now, I have to focus on the battle.

"RAH!!!" The demon came charging.

I elude the attack with relative ease, but I fear that my leg won't last for long.

Unfortunately, I spoke too soon.

What I didn't account for was my landing.

*Crack*

My left foot was the first to make contact with the floor. Under favorable conditions, I would be able to gracefully land with either foot—specifically, the toes—touching the ground, which is a major component of a smooth alighting.

As such, whence the rest of my body weight became concentrated onto that left foot, the rest of the impaired sinistral leg was unable to contemporaneously support such weight.

"Argh!" I winced in pain from the pressure placed against my left leg.

As a result, I quickly lost my sense of balance and fell to the ground.

Shoot, I'm wide open!

I immediately pull myself up, hoping to counter any maneuvers the enemy might be undergoing right now.

And I was right. The demon was going for a punch.

I speedily hoist my katana up and—just in the nick of time—block the oncoming punch.

CLANG

The sound of the metal ricocheting echoes throughout the room as the demon's fist makes contact with my katana.

But, just as I had conducted this same defense maneuver in our previous battle, I once again failed to consider the demon's herculean strength.

Thus, I go flying backward, unable to decelerate this incorrigible motion.

BANG

My back aggressively smashes against the wall.

I land on my knees, heavily panting.

Nice, now my back's damaged as well.

I can't seem to get a break from its attacks.

Time. I don't have any of that.

I only have two options: Stay and fight, in hopes of beating the enemy, OR retreat with Tomioka-san.

I have neither the strength nor the stamina to beat this thing as of this moment—all of that was lost earlier with the first confrontation and the second confrontation, the latter eating up all of my energy with those high-speed maneuvers.

The fractured bone is also going to slowly drain all of my endurance away. And my attacks mostly played an auxiliary role when working with Tomioka-san; they aren't designed for one-on-one combat with an abnormally formidable enemy such as this.

But, if I try to escape, then I'll have to carry Tomioka-san, run with a splintered leg, and shake off this demon—who happens to be moderately faster than the average of its kind—all at the same time.

Neither option is satisfactory.

If only I could somehow release a great deal of poison without having too much strain exacted on my fragile leg...

Wait.

That's it!

For over a year now, I've been altering the rudimentary structure of my body's physiology by means of absorbing highly concentrated Wisteria poison.

So, my body now has the equivalent of over 37 kilograms worth of poison alone, which approximates it to about 700 times more than the minimum quantity of dosage required to kill the average demon. Hell, it's lethal enough to theoretically melt Douma, an Upper-Rank demon, down to just his bones.

I was successful enough in suffusing my body with these undetectable poisons to the point where it has merged with my body's own cell structures. From my blood and internal organs to the very tip of my fingernail, I'm a walking chemical weapon of mass destruction.

It's my trump card against Douma.

But, as of now, I have to use some of it.

All I have to do is make that thing bite me—and consume my blood—in the arms, legs, or virtually anywhere but the vital organs.

Wait no, that's stupid. I can't have it hit one of my legs again. And I need my dominant hand to utilize my sword proficiently, so the right arm is a no-go.

So, I suppose it's my left arm then. Can't have it eat my hand off or any of the fingers. And the forearm lacks the muscles needed to withstand such a blow... The left biceps it is.

It's a risky plan, yes, but I have no other choice.

"RAAAUGGHHH!!!" The monster appears to be getting impatient, it seems to want to terminate this confrontation as quickly as possible.

Okay, you bastard, I'll give it to you.

In light of these new circumstances and plans, I deduced that the Sha-no-Kamae battle stance would be best tailored for my current objectives.

My entire body shifts from an orthostatic, coronal (Latitudinal) posture to a lower, sagittal (Longitudinal) standing. The knees are bent at a 45-degree angle of depression with the plane of reference being the horizontal plane of my waist. My arms are drooped down to my upper thighs. The left foot is situated just ahead of the right foot. The Nichirin Blade is held in a manner that is protruding from my right hip. My left shoulder faces my opponent, while the right faces the opposite direction.

I have to be extremely careful. Otherwise, if the wound is too deep, I might either suffer from an infection—which is a possible explanation for Tomioka-san's shoulder opening up again—OR the sheer agony from the wound could impede upon my battle performance.

Also, I need it to target the chosen target—the biceps on my left arm. Otherwise, I either won't be able to fight properly or incur a serious, long-term injury—which is something I don't plan on doing.

I should quickly slice off one of its arms so that I'll have the luxury of only focusing on the other.

STOMP STOMP STOMP

The demon jolted into motion.

I ran as well, hoping to intercept it within my preferred time frame.

When we were within reach of each other, the enemy pulled out its left arm and aimed for my head.

However, I was unquestionably faster than this hunk of meat. So, I initiated a Kiriage (left-oriented, upward diagonal slice) Technique with my katana, invariably separating the demon's sinistral arm from its torso. I contort my soma around while transferring the right foot ahead of the left foot in order to satisfy this maneuver.

SLASH

Despite my slice, the demon was tenacious and subsequently utilized its right hand to crush me.

However, with the added benefits of maintaining Constant Total Concentration—as all Hashiras and upper-level slayers are expected to do—I was fastidious with regards to my reaction time and successive counter.

WHOOSH

The arm came flying down, but I easily eluded it.

DASH

I then, with my katana still up midair from my previous attack, parry the lunge with a Kesagiri (Left Diagonal slice from above) Technique. I twist my body somewhat and revert my left foot back to the front of my right foot again while releasing the full might of my incise.

SLASH

The right arm is now gone—it has lost both limbs.

Due to my exposed disposition—I was slightly bending my knees, my sword was pointing to the bottom-left corner of my field of vision, and my back was bent a little—I quickly withdrew my presence from the demon's range.

As an added bonus, I inserted a great deal of poison into each one of my maims; the goal was to slow down the enemy's regenerative powers so that it would have to rely on its teeth alone.

And, as expected, it did.

"ARRR!!!" it shrieked.

It opened its mouth wide, in preparation for its oncoming assault, and drew closer to me.

In response, I hoisted my katana and pointed it directly at the enemy's mouth.

TCHIP

With the sudden deployment of my steel blade, the demon unintentionally sanctioned its entrance into its oral cavity. Thus, most of its razor-sharp teeth were demolished.

But the demon, with obstinacy an intrinsic aspect of its nature, continued to persist in reducing the lateral distance between the two of us.

TCHIP

TCHIP

Its teeth continued to crumble against my sword. Particles of its denticles were airborne—some were projected towards, others fell to the ground, and some merely latched onto the demon's tongue.

I struggled to keep a firm grip on my sword.

Within seconds, my arms were practically inside the oral cavity—leaving me exposed elsewhere.

Not good. It could bite my arms off.

I promptly pulled back my right arm but left my sinistral arm in there to hold the katana.

In an attempt to further injure and intoxicate the demon with wisteria poison, I twisted and turned my left hand around in the cavity—and, thus, moved the katana so as to conduce the creation of more bleeding.

The demon, however, took notice of that and, once provoked, bit my left biceps.

BITE

"ARGH!" I yelped, my plans always sound much easier in my head.

But I had allowed a smirk to materialize onto my face. Because the plan worked.

Not only did it hit the exact area I wanted it to, but its teeth were also blunted and dulled thanks to my maneuvers inside its mouth. So, the impact wasn't as great, and, therefore, this limb isn't going to have an everlasting injury.

*SIZZLE*

The head begins to hastily melt like a block of ice on a hot summer day. Its eyeballs, without the existence and structural support of the sockets, both plunged down to the ground. The nose, already harboring a distorted placement anyway, is quick to dissolve upon receiving the intense heat originating from the heightened body temperature.

Rotting flesh, blood, and maggots all simultaneously ooze out of the liquefied head. The width of its girth is reduced by an upwards of one-half.

The pungent stench of decomposing and melting tissue encompasses the entirety of the vicinage.

"AUGGHHGHGHG!!!"

The demon backs forthwith away from me as it attempts to convalesce from the sudden influx of poison, falling flat on the ground and thrashing around in pain while doing so.

I extracted my bloodied left arm from its mouth with ease—since perforations opened up due to the melting skin and tissues. Its saliva and blood enveloped my entire arm.

But now's not the time to worry about hygiene. I still have work to do.

It should be dead soon.

Now's my chance!

Even as my left arm is ensanguined, I briskly make my way to the aperture in the concrete wall—to where Tomioka-san was.

However, before I could reach my destination, I felt a sudden jerk against my ankles.

The demon, with its evaporating and regenerating hand—two opposing forces vying for dominance—grabs my right ankle and pulls me back.

It's still alive?!

Does this thing not die?!

"Son of a—" I ready my sword to disengage the hand from my foot.

"ARGH!" The demon—still somewhat melting and drowning in agony—suddenly makes its presence known as it takes a hold of me. Its battle cry this time, though, resembles less of the large, colossal mass it is, and more of a shriek espoused by the reaper of death himself.

Shit!

It then throws me to the other side of the chamber.

*CRASH*

My uncomfortable landing on my dextral side momentarily impels me to lose cognizance for a brief period, but I eventually recover partially.

My body, however, is in a terrible state of being. Must've broken several bones from that landing. My right shoulder has been dislocated. Blood had begun to seep through the several cuts and abrasions situated on my body.

Crap. Everything hurts. My head's spinning in circles...

Wait, the demon!

I realized too late, as the enemy had already seized hold of me—grasping me by my neck with its right arm.

"Arrrgh!" The abrupt, indomitable stranglehold on my neck meant that no air was flowing in and out of the lungs.

In other words, I was being choked.

BASH

The demon, with its other defective, disintegrating arm, punches me hard in the stomach.

"ACH!" my insides feel like they've been imploded.

If it were not for the fact that its body was concurrently undergoing a state of malformation thanks to my poisonous blood, then I would've been instantly killed by that blow alone.

The enemy was lacking both the physical foundation and vigor to apply its full potential.

BAM

The monster, as it continues to strangle me, violently shoves my body against the stone wall. I can feel blood trickle down from the rear end of my head.

It was then that I noticed that the enemy was practically headless and that there were a great many perforations throughout its musculature. Additionally, the sizzling sound has not yet been abated. Meaning, the poison is inflicting some serious damage to it but was insufficient in terms of actually killing it.

How do you even kill this thing...

I try to liberate myself from its grapple, but I'm simply too weak to do so.

As a last-ditch attempt, I tried to make use of my Nichirin Blade.

STAB

I pierce the forearm of its dextral appendage—the arm that was holding me.

The demon, however, employs its sinistral arm to pull the weapon off of its right arm and, thus, continues to choke me.

While I was fully expecting the enemy to bite my head off at this point, I am a bit surprised that it immediately does not do so. It's only going to focus on choking me.

I see.

It's not so dumb after all. It knows that taking in any more of my blood will lead to its ultimate demise.

Clever bastard.

It's not going to eat me, but it certainly will kill me through asphyxiation.

My lungs feel like they're about to explode. If it were not for my throat being closed up, I would be retching up blood and spittle.

And yet, I'm still trying to find ways to escape even though I know it's hopeless; the monster's got me pinned down, which I can't break free from, and my body is so hopelessly exhausted and physically impaired that I can't even lift either arm—one's broken from being tossed and the other arm is the one that's bitten.

Great.

It really is hopeless.

My frail, weak body has already sustained too many injuries. I can't move anything at all...

My vision starts to get distorted as the absence of a fresh supply of air needlessly wrought a bodily shortage of oxygen—meaning, the body won't be replenished in light of such scarcity. So, since my eyes need oxygen, they are one of the first to go.

I can't breathe.

Dammit.

Well... I guess this is it.

There's no denying it.

I've given up.

There's no logical way out of this mess.

I'm done for.

What a pitiful demise.

Is this how it really ends? I die a pathetic death without even accomplishing what I set out to do?

I would much rather die at the hands of Douma than this foul creature—because, at a minimum, I'll be able to rest knowing that I at least tried to kill that motherfucker. But no, I won't even be able to use my trump card against that dickhead.

All because I've failed to be of any use to Tomioka-san, just like I failed Nee-san.

I'm supposed to be a Pillar! I'm not supposed to go down this easily... Not this way...

I guess... I really am useless.

After all that training, after enduring all those hardships... I'm still that brat from four years ago. I haven't changed a bit.

The only difference is that I'm angrier now. But that's about it.

I haven't progressed at all, have I?

Maybe that's why Tomioka-san refused to speak to me after that day... Maybe that's why he left me...

I'm not good enough for him. I'm a horrible person and a terrible slayer.

I don't deserve him, just like how I never deserved this title.

'The ability to integrate different aspects of combat into a unilateral Breathing Technique is a skill noteworthy of a Hashira,' is what they said.

But, really, I was just lucky, that's all. I have no noteworthy physical attributes, just some knowledge in medicine and herbalism, that's all.

I suppose such a weak slayer would be due to encounter such a feeble passing.

Am I ready to go? Well... no.

I never am, and never will be until I kill Douma. But, with the way things are now, I guess the universe is basically forcing death unto me.

Did I deserve this? No one deserves anything. Most of anything in this world is neither 'fair' nor 'deserving' of something.

The only exception I would make to this conjecture would be demons themselves. They can go burn in hell for all I care.

Did I even accomplish anything at all in this life?

I don't know... I will never know because I won't be alive.

I wonder if the sweet release of death is as they say it is.

Nevertheless, I still can't help but ponder about the past. To wistfully reminisce about what I've encountered thus far.

I can see my life flash before my eyes.

I can vividly see them now.

Otōsan and Okāsan's loving embrace...

Nee-san's smiles...

..

..

..

..

"Shinobu? Oii! Shinobuuuu! Moshi Moshi?" someone called out.

"Wha..." I groan as I turn to my side.

"Wakey wakey! It's morning!" Kanae said excitedly.

"Five more minutes, Nee-san," I say with a muffled voice due to my head being situated deep within the perimeters of the pillow.

"That's what you said yesterday~" Kanae replied.

"I did not..." I said weakly.

"Sureeee," my older sister said.

I sigh, "What time is it?"

"Six~"

"......... I'm going back to sleep," I say nonchalantly.

"Whaaa? Whyyy?"

"I'm not a morning person, Nee-san. I usually wake up between 7 and 8," I say back.

"But you do have chores to take care of," she smiled.

"That... can be done later today," I said.

"And what about training?"

"Same thing, I can do it after the chores," I explained.

"And the medical bay?" she added.

I grumbled, "Okay fine, I'll get up."

"Yay! Now you'll have plenty of time to tend to all of your business AND more time for training!" Kanae said effusively.

..

..

She's badly injured.

A puddle of blood lies beneath her corporeal incarnation—one that is irrevocably damaged beyond repair.

"S-Shinobu..." she says weakly.

"You shouldn't talk, Nee-san! We need to stop the bleeding immediately!" I say emphatically as I attempt to utilize an item of clothing as a barrier to occlude the incision and aperture.

"I... Don't have much time left, Shinobu..."

"Don't, don't say that!" I yell.

"Please... Listen to me," she pleads. Her rhythmic breathing has become more erratic and her voice more hoarse.

"We'll need some antiseptic to clean up the wound," I try to distract myself from the impending doom.

"Shinobu" she starts.

"Don't try to move too much," my own voice is starting to shake.

"Live a life of happiness... Leave the Corps, fall in love, and have children of your own...."

"D-Don't talk too much," I sniveled.

"Don't be consumed by hatred..."

"Nee-san," I began to weep.

"Don't be burdened by your own anger..."

"You can't leave me... You're the only one left... Please... I beg of you. I can't lose you like we lost Otōsan and Okāsan," my tears poured onto her porcelain-like face.

She smiles for one last time.

"Shinobu..." her breathing comes to a halt.

..

..

"I missed you so much, Nee-san!" I cried.

Nee-san, initially dumbfounded by these recent developments, returned the gesture and hugged as well.

"It's ok. It's ok. I'm here," she says soothingly.

"I don't want to leave you again!" I exclaimed with all the emotions that I had tried to restrain.

"You never left me, Shinobu. And I would never leave you. I'll always be there for you," she replies.

"You promise?" I asked almost sheepishly, but, at the same time, I was practically begging her.

"Promise. Always."

..

..

..

..

Nee-san... I'm going to see you again...

I know I disobeyed your wishes. Will you forgive me?

My mind wanders to him.

To that strange man I'm sometimes awkward around.

To the reticent Hashira who was different from everyone else.

Who was quick to show unconditional acts of kindness towards me.

Tomioka-san...

..

..

..

..

"Great! Tomioka-san, this is my younger sister—Shinobu. Shinobu, this is Tomioka-san—the Water Hashira," Kanae introduces us.

"Yoroshiku onegaishimasu," Tomioka tilts his head slightly towards the ground and back up again as a greeting gesture.

I simply nod my head, "Kochirakoso, yoroshiku onégai shimasu."

..

..

"Try to find other creative ways or methods that could be used to kill demons efficiently without solely relying on great power. For example, the ability to think clearly and concoct a sound strategy in the midst of battle is a trait that the Corps would greatly appreciate and be willing to reward with promotions," he delineates.

"And how do I figure that out?" I, fully immersed in the discussion, ask.

"That's for you to figure out. But I suggest that you figure out what your talents—natural or acquired—are and determine a way in which you could conveniently apply them in the field of battle," he concludes.

"Oh, I see..." My face, previously full of consternation, is now glimmering with hope and youthful eagerness.

..

..

"Become stronger. Become a Hashira."

..

..

"You may be weak, but you also have the immense capacity to be incredibly strong, Kocho-san."

..

..

"You're special to me, Kocho-san... Probably the only one who has ever conversed with me this much. It would've been disheartening to know that I was only derided for having such conversations; because, even if I do get annoyed by some of them, I do enjoy them," he said as he looked upon the stars.

..

..

"Kocho-san, you aren't smiling," he said.

"O-oh, sorry about tha—" I replied.

"Don't be, you look just as beautiful without it."

..

..

"Kocho-san..." Tomioka-san suddenly says.

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

"Your smile... It's beautiful."

..

..

"We're friends... right?"

"Of-of course!" I nearly lost my composure there.

"Then I guess you're my only friend."

..

..

"Yes, you," he answers.

I abruptly stop walking and then slowly turn around to meet my companion face-to-face, "What?"

"You ask if I've ever found a woman good-looking, and I do. You, Kocho-san, I find you pretty."

..

..

"Well, either way, I think you'll be fine though," he states plainly. "Since the scent of wisteria gives off a pleasant aroma, you should continue to smell good."

..

..

"Because I need to protect you, that's why!"

..

..

"For you, a thousand times over."

..

..

"Isn't the moon lovely tonight, Tomioka-san?"

"....... Hasn't it always been?"

..

..

"Until we meet again, Future Hashira."

..

..

..

..

Tears begin to swell up in my eyes, occluding my field of vision and distorting my eyesight.

I don't want to go...

I finally admit it.

I still have so much to say, so much to do.

I still have to avenge you, Nee-san. I can't leave like this!

I have to honor your legacy...

And Tomioka-san...

I wish I could sincerely apologize right in front of you. Apologize for everything. Apologize for being pretentious, for being so stubborn, and for being a lousy partner. I'm sure you've had your complaints when we're traveling together.

But, if I am to be honest, I really enjoyed my time with you. I always did. Always have. And, if not for all this, always will.

I've always looked up to you.

You're a true warrior to the heart. I wish I were like you, but, unfortunately, I wasn't built for this life—both mentally and physically.

You're a genuinely selfless man. Meanwhile, I only pretend to act altruistically.

You're too caring and compassionate for my kind. And I have never repaid you for that debt of gratitude. I never will now. I apologize for that as well.

You're truly an extraordinary individual.

When I think of what fundamentally defines a Hashira, I think of you.

... I'm sorry I failed you...

I pray that you are alive behind that concrete wall, that you will be able to finish off this demon, and that you'll live a fulfilling life...

Maybe someday, in the future, you're going to marry someone, have kids, and live in peace. That woman will know everything that there is to know about you, she will be able to explore every facet of your personality, and she will give you happiness in a way that no one else will be able to give.

Wow, I'm starting to sound like Nee-san haha...

.... I guess I'm a little jealous.

That special someone will come to understand the social hermit Tomioka Giyuu.

And I will be forever left in the dust.

I could only wish.

Tomioka-san... If only we had more time left together.

Then maybe...

Maybe...

..

..

..

..

..

..

SPLASH

The demon threw the body to a nearby pool.

Now on the verge of death, it was withdrawing from the battlefield; the permanent injuries it incurred from Shinobu's poison had left it acutely deformed and extremely weakened.

It staggered about, still trying to regain proprioception.

It was a first in centuries—to be nearly outmatched by mere humans.

Killing one of those troublesome slayers should suffice, though, even if the other survived—the man should be unable to even move with those wounds.

It was tired and precariously susceptible to any more attacks.

It had greatly underestimated the woman. Never in a million years would it have guessed that she had an unreasonable amount of poison hidden inside herself.

It still hasn't been able to recover from that sheer amount of toxins. And most of its physical parts have either been grievously marred or rendered utterly redundant. It was missing an arm, a portion of its torso, half of its head, and many more.

It needed to recover if that was possible in the first place. The innate regenerative processes have stopped working.

In any case, though, it had completed the task assigned to him. It can go home now.

Home...

It contemplates if home even exists at all.

Everyone else says it does.

But then it is reminded that these aren't new thoughts.

It has already spent hundreds of years pondering that.

And, after all that time, it has concluded that home never existed.

It never will.

..

..

..

..

..

..

Giyuu

*COUGH*

I hacked and rolled over to my side.

*COUGH* *COUGH*

I wheezed and removed all of the foreign substances from my throat.

Rubble and grime were everywhere.

I let out a groan as I lifted the upper half of my musculature off the ground and into an upright posture.

My body feels like it's on fire; there are broken bones, lacerations, bruises, and the like everywhere.

Nonetheless, I try my best to stand straight.

Wait, what happened to Kocho-san?! There would be no way I could forget what I saw.

I began scrambling over to the opening in the wall—which was my doing. I walk with a limp, unable to saunter properly.

I get an eerie feeling of deja vu. It's as if a similar scene is replaying in my head.

Alluding to the dreamscape I had right after my reunion with Kocho-san.

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

My feet and knees feel wet. I thought we left the swampy area?

I scour the area, looking for her.

I scour the vicinage, looking for her.

I trudge through the water.

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.

There's something in the water. It looks... red.

It's blood.

It's blood. Looks like it's leaking from somewhere.

I follow the red trail.

I see something in the distance.

I see something right up ahead.

I drag myself over to inspect it.

I limped heavily as I dragged myself over to inspect it.

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

The closer I got, the more I could distinguish its features.

It's a body.

It's a body.

I gulp back my uneasiness.

I knew who it was.

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.

But I refuse to acknowledge it.

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

Not like this. Not after everything.

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

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

I feel light-headed.

You can't do this to me. To her.

Each step feels heavier than the previous one.

My legs are broken, and, yet, I keep walking.

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

This has to be a dream. Yes. That would make sense.

It's another dream again.... Right?

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

I was given a chance! You already showed me this before! Twice!!

Is this some kind of joke to you? Is this some form of torture?

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.

It's her. Kocho-san.

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 fair skin was still smooth, still untattered. She still wielded her Nichirin Blade on 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.

Her eyelids were closed shut. She might've realized the severity of her dire situation...

What were her final moments like? Did she find peace? Or was her passing a painful one?

Without making any noise, I carefully placed one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back—I lifted her bridal style.

I then carried her out of the shallow water and onto some solid ground.

I perched Kocho-san on the surface of the gravel pathway.

And then, I just sat there.

I stared at her with a dead-panned face. She was very much bloodied. Must've put up a good fight...

Huh. Everything in that one dreamscape happened verbatim—word for word.

So it wasn't some crazy nightmare. It never was. My fears were correct after all.

It was all real. But I was too stupid to even realize that. I like to think of myself as the cautious type, but I really am not.

Was it all inevitable? Was it preordained?

I choke.

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

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.

I can't think properly. Too much stress.

Everything is just as chronicled in that dream...

I take a hold of her hand. Using my left palm, I gently lift it and tenderly nuzzle it against my left cheek. My hand caresses her stiff knuckles while her soft, emollient palms touch my skin.

"... Your hands are still warm, you know..." I give a sotto voce remark.

Silence.

"Last time I held your hands was during a medical check-up years ago, you insisted on taking my blood samples... They were cold... but I guess that's changed now..."

Silence.

"Do you remember that day? When we met in the woods? You were frustrated and I gave you some advice."

Silence.

"I was going to end it all that day. I was so close to doing it. But you saved me... And I never got the chance to thank you..."

Silence.

"I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you a lot of things..."

Silence.

"I... I just wish..." the words won't come out of my mouth.

"I..." my voice cracks.

Talking to the corpse of a close comrade happens to be a gut-wrenching experience.

"I wish... I could've spent more time with you..." my phonetic pattern starts to quiver.

..

..

..

..

"Oiii Oiii, Tomioka-san, are you listening?? Moshi, Moshi?" she says as she begins to repeatedly poke me.

"..."

"You know, this is why nobody likes you," she mused.

My trek down the dirt trail came to an abrupt halt. After a few seconds of silence, I respond, "I'm not disliked by people..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your feelings again? Are you still reeling from the first time I told you that useful piece of information? I'm terribly sorry that you weren't aware of that," she toys around with me.

..

..

As I glanced out the window, I felt a shove that thrust itself upon my right shoulder. I turned my head; it was Kocho-san. Her head was lounging on the upper half of my arm, where her temple rested upon my shoulder.

"Kocho-san?" I inquired.

"Shut up, let me sleep," she said almost sternly.

I looked at her with confusion, "You make no sense at times."

"Do you want me to throw you off this train?"

"I would rather not."

"Thought so," Shinobu huffed as she clung onto my forearm.

..

..

"You're not like the others," she said.

"Huh?" I was confused.

"You're not like the other slayers. You're... different... You like to help people, and you don't act like you're above everyone else," she whispered, but just loud enough for me to hear it as well.

Then, her face exhibits a wide, natural grin, "And I think that's a good thing, Tomioka-san."

..

..

Upon being appropriately close to me, she landed on her knees and hugged me.

She squeezed her arms around me tight. Additionally, she rested her head onto my chest—seeking comfort and solace in this dark chasm.

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

"Me too," I replied.

..

..

"You know, Tomioka-san," she suddenly says.

"Huh?" I return to reality.

"Maybe you aren't so bad after all," she smiles.

..

..

..

..

I was weeping.

There was a wetness in my eyes.

Never had I shed so many tears. Not since Nee-san's death.

The emotionless shell I had constructed and sequestered myself into has, within seconds, burst into pieces.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I repeated over and over but knowing full well that she won't be there to hear my pleads.

I hitched gusts of air, tears gushing down my cheeks—stinging the raw flesh of the skinned bruises on my face. My breath rasps in my throat.

Using my right arm, I uplift her upper body and hugged her—burying my face into her shoulder. The other hand continued to hold Kocho-san's palm.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I whimpered, my cadence quavering.

I felt like that 10-year-old boy again, the me of a distant but relevant past: Helpless, lonely, spiteful, grief-stricken, feeling both useless and powerless, unable to save loved ones, and begging for forgiveness from someone who cannot do so.

My soul was being gnawed away, a perpetual hole had eaten away all of my spirits. I was nothing but a hollow casing now. There was nothing left within me.

I've seen death far too many times already.

I've seen her die too many times.

It's too much. My head feels like it's going to burst. I can't handle all of this. I can't...

I can only grieve, cry, and be bitter towards my lack of capabilities.

I'm useless...

I resented everything. This world, this demon, this mission, and, most of all, myself.

I'm sorry, Kocho-san.

I'm sorry for abandoning you back then.

I'm sorry for failing to understand you.

I'm sorry that I couldn't be a better partner, a better Hashira, or a better person.

I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you, Kocho-san...

I can do nothing but express my regret. I truly am worthless.

"I'm sorry..."

..

..

Pain has been such an integral part of my life.

My non-existent parents, Nee-san's passing, the betrayal of my oath to her fiancé, Makomo's death, and Sabito's demise.

I live off of that pain, and it's what motivates me to do what I do—to uphold my duties and prerogatives as a slayer and Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps.

But there's a sense of closure that I will never be able to get, no matter what I do.

It is this desire that drives me forward, motivates me, and makes me ultimately become the incomplete person that I am.

..

..

Kill.

Seek vengeance.

Kill.

For Nee-san, for Sabito, for Makomo, and for Kocho-san.

Kill.

Drench yourself with the enemy's gore.

Kill.

You have nothing to fear now.

Kill.

Nothing to be worried about.

Kill.

Only spilt blood will resolve this suffering.

Kill.

Embrace your hatred. Let it guide you.

Kill.

You've suppressed it for far too long.

Kill.

It's the only sensible way you will rid yourself of this pain.

Kill.

It's the only solution to your problems.

Kill.

Complete yourself.

..

..

I delicately place her back down.

I take one last look.

She lit my world. She was the tangible embodiment of what was left of my happiness on this Earth. Because of her, I looked to tomorrow with neither trepidation nor fear. Instead, I was hopeful.

But that's all over now.

There's nothing left for me. No one to turn to anymore.

Farewell, Kocho Shinobu, the gallant Insect Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps. May you find solace in the heavens. May you make peace with yourself.

At this moment, there's only one thing I can do. The only way to take my mind off of this pain.

I stand straight, lifting my blade in the process.

The Water Hashira was unable to save someone, just as Tomioka Giyuu was unable to save his family or friends. Maybe the Flower Hashira was correct, maybe I was wearing this facade—this mask of a Pillar and savior of the innocent—just as Kocho-san had assumed hers in the Flower's memory.

I naively thought that I could do the impossible, all because I was an 'honorable' or 'qualified' slayer. I was stupid enough to presume that this title would give me immeasurable power and the drive to save and protect everyone.

But neither the man nor mask can do anything now—they've both tried and failed.

I turn around, only to find a disfigured demon slowly pacing away into the distance.

At the very sight of it, my breathing trembles with fury.

I glare at it.

Pure rage.

Absolute, unequivocal rage. It pervades throughout my head, throughout my physical incarnation.

Drowned in misery, this coping mechanism was subconsciously conceived. All of my other emotions are suppressed. I've been intoxicated by this anger. Imbibed with insanity.

Such raw power it can give you, this feeling. Even if my overall anatomy is basically a walking carcass at this point, this sudden rush of wrath and adrenaline procures the energy I covet.

I feel my muscles tense up and my limbs rejuvenated.

I draw my sword.

..

..

..

..

..

..

The nearly-headless demon was limping about—still reeling from the effects of Shinobu's concoctions—trying to fall back and retire for the day.

However, its keen sense of smell picked up something that was coming towards it at an extraordinary speed.

It turned around only to see Giyuu aggressively swing his sword at it.

SLASH

Its right arm is chopped off.

The demon tries to repel his next attack by swerving its left arm to punch Giyuu.

Giyuu, however, efficaciously parries the left arm and promptly eviscerates that as well.

SLASH

Giyuu finally stops.

The Water Hashira's countenance had the look of a stoic, merciless beast, which even surprised the usually emotionless demon facing him.

His aura exuded the temperament of a soulless, raging ronin from the days of old; he consummated this contempt of the highest order, destroying or relegating his identity and personality in the process.

He had become consumed by his pain, his self-loathing, his disdain, and his eternal desolation. With nowhere else to turn to, with nothing else to lose, he welcomed this sleeping dragon—hoping that ending the very source of these circumstances will solve everything, that it will bring closure to a mind rife with regret and despair.

Such a plethora of synergistic, negative sentiments has now all culminated to engender a part of Giyuu he never dared to disclose, for fear of losing control over it.

But he didn't care anymore. He was going to let it rampage.

His eyes were now devoid of any life, but it was responsive to one and only one purpose.

"I'm going to kill you," he growls with the utmost malice.

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Author's Notes:

Just another day of putting Giyuu through the worst form of mental torture conceivable.

Also, doing research for this chapter was unreasonably depressing.