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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Giyuu was ambulating around the propinquity, collecting firewood for his meal tonight.

The cool, bitter breeze of the winter season stung his callused skin.

The amalgamated snowfall had made for an exquisite, picturesque scenery in the surrounding forest. While the leaves had already plunged onto the Earth and decomposed, the naked trees themselves were accoutered in a layer of sparkling, riveting white snow.

Whether it be the extravagance of daytime's sunlight or the subdued glimmer of nighttime's moonlight, the snow glittered like pixie dust.

Thus, the woods coruscated brightly in tandem with Giyuu's midday hike.

But he wasn't concerned about aesthetics.

Giyuu was more irritated by his inability to walk with ease—having been compelled to utilize a cane to alleviate the difficulty thereof.

He sighed.

A great deal of weariness has bitten into his bones.

With his rapidly deteriorating health, he was now nearly 10 years older than he was a year ago—in terms of appearance.

He was getting old. He knew that.

He reckoned he would have at least a year left, or maybe two. Either way, his time down here was coming to a close.

However, he did not feel either sadness, madness, or fear.

To him, his whole life has been a living hell. Constantly being mentally and physically tortured by his past decisions and mistakes, Giyuu was getting tired—tired of everything.

At this point, even hell itself would be a better alternative to reality.

He coveted that conclusion to his life—a life that only took away, but did not give. The peroration of this ill-mannered prose.

Giyuu continued making his way to the predetermined destination.

*Hack* *Hack*

He began to cough loudly. In response, he pulled out his handkerchief and concealed his mouth with it. He dropped his walking stick in the process.

*Wheeze* *Wheeze*

He expectorated a combination of blood and spittle onto the cloth.

His chest felt incredibly compressed and weak.

"Fucking hell..." he grumbled as he crumpled up the napkin into a spherical configuration.

He then returned the cloth back into his left pocket and subsequently hoisted his cane back up.

Just another day...

WHOOSH

Within a split second, he heard something traveling at an extremely high velocity.

'What was that?'

BOOM

It had alighted and touched the ground, which was covered in a soft blanket of snow.

An enormous surge of snow and wind violently blew away anything within the radius that corresponds to the circumcenter of the collision. It was essentially like a blizzard for a few seconds.

Using his only arm, Giyuu shielded himself from the oncoming volley of projectile snow.

Finally, the wind settled and the vicinity calmed down from this abrupt occurrence.

"What the hell..." Giyuu murmured.

Though the blizzard had effectively dissipated, there was still a heavy mist of snow that occluded Giyuu's vision.

With having no idea what exactly happened and curious as to what foreign phenomenon may have induced this event, Giyuu began walking towards thither.

He trudged through the snow like it was a slough.

Much to the consternation of Giyuu and his frail body, each additional step demanded more effort than the previous.

But he pressed on nonetheless.

Finally, he approached the impact's focal point.

Someone was lying supinated on the snowfield. Tree branches and other ligneous materials were strewed all over the floor.

Giyuu stopped. He dropped his cane.

He stared at the person in question with bewilderment.

"W-What..." his eyes widened.

He closed in on the figure and dropped to his knees.

It was a woman.

Her hair was shoulder-length and wavy; it was not too long, nor did it fit the description of being dubbed too short.

Moreover, her hair—as it approaches the anterior segment of her face; the area situated around the temples—fades from a black cast into a tinge of dark purple before fully integrating into the iris-like coloring it fancies.

The posterior section of hair is styled into a "yakai-maki" coiffure and fastened with a white and purple butterfly ornament.

Unlike the bangs that delve downwards to the neck-level at the fringe of her facial region, she has an additional ear-length bang that diverged from the main chorus—it redirects its disposition away from the ones that head down to the neck-level.

These particular bangs are elevated slightly away from her head before falling to frame her face.

Finally, on top of the split bangs with a bit of curvature, these strands of hair also harbor two thinner chin-length strands below them.

It was one magnificent sight that alluded the eyes to closely inspect the unique and unorthodox facets pertinent to someone else's hair.

As the afternoon sunlight glistened the reflecting snow and brilliantly shone its rays upon the woman, the purple amethyst color—which defined a certain portion of her hair—reacted with a sudden surge of photons by emitting vibrant, enriching irradiation that captivated the attention and subservience of Giyuu's eyes to this spectacular display of art and beauty.

Giyuu couldn't help but admire such a spectacle; it was beautiful and it was nostalgic. She was beautiful. Absolutely stunning.

He felt like that 21-year-old Water Hashira again—the one who admired this lady's beauty from afar.

It reminded him of a certain someone.

No, it was definitely her.

She was unconscious, but was living and breathing right before him.

"K-Kocho..." he finally let out.

"Kocho..." it was as if he had lost his breath.

He touched her pale, emollient skin—lightly caressing her cheek with his left hand. The creamy texture juxtaposed Giyuu's rough, blistered hands.

Tears start streaming down.

The joyous, yet painful memories of the Insect Hashira left his heart confused and mind irrational.

"I'm sorry..." was the only thing he could say.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." he repeated over and over.

His phonetic elucidation was in complete disarray; he couldn't formulate his words properly and his voice was unsteady. He could only let out cries of despair, hope, guilt, and whatever complex, pent-up emotions he had locked up inside for nearly two decades.

What he wept for, he did not know.

Was he happy? Was he in agony? Was he remorseful?

Maybe it was all at once.

After all, the language of love comes in many different forms...

..

..

..

..

Shinobu slammed her fist on the table, "Why did you agree to fight it?!"

They were perched onto chairs that were adjacent to a small, round table.

"Here, have some tea," Giyuu sets a cup right in front of her.

"Wha—? I don't want tea! I want answers!" she vociferated.

Giyuu let out a sigh of exasperation, "Look, we have to do something about that bastard, lest we relegate that problem to someone else—which is the last thing I want."

"I agree, but you can't fight!" she protested. "You said it yourself: If you use Total Concentration Breathing, your lungs will burst! Not to mention how your body is, generally, in no shape to fight again."

"But if I fail to show up, he'll go after everyone else," Giyuu replied. "I can't allow him to destroy the happiness of others, the happiness that Tanjiro, Kanao, Zenitsu, Nezuko, Inosuke, Aoi, and Sanemi all have rightfully earned."

"That's why I will fight, instead of you," Shinobu asserts.

Giyuu looked at her dead in the eyes, "No way in hell."

"What? Why?"

"You're not going to fight that creature," he reiterates.

"Have you ever thought to consider your livelihood, Tomioka-san?" she questions.

"That's completely irrelevant," he answers.

"Irrelevant?! Is secluding yourself up here irrelevant? Is your physical condition irrelevant? Is your own happiness irrelevant? Is everything to you irrelevant? Have you considered any of that?" Shinbou retorts.

"No, but—"

"I rest my case then."

He groans, "I understand why you're opposed to me going—"

"Yeah, because you're not the warrior from 20 years ago. You won't stand a chance against the enemy," she interrupts.

"... But, I can't let you go either," he concludes.

"And why's that?"

"Because it's pretty damn obvious you're not from around here. Something must've transported you to this place, at this time," he explains.

Shinobu's facial expression relaxes, "I suppose that's pretty apparent..."

"What do you think happened?" he asks.

"Huh?"

"What do you think is the cause of all of this?" he clarifies.

"I don't know... I only have a hunch," said Shinobu.

"And that is...?"

"That this is the work of a Blood Demon Art," she completes.

"I see... What demon did you encounter...?" he inquires further.

"It was a large, humanoid creature. It had incredible strength. You—at least, you of 1914—and I have yet to slay it..." Shinobu's mind drifted to the Giyuu of the past and his condition—she was very much worried about him.

"Huh... When was this? Where was this?"

"We were assigned to this mission in the summer of 1914, in the city of Yokohama... Wait, why are you asking me all of this? You should already know," Shinobu asked confusingly. "Don't tell me you're trying to change the subject. If that's the case, you should know I'm going to do everything to stop yo—"

"That's the thing," Giyuu interjected. "I don't remember going on this assignment."

"What?"

"We never went on this mission that you speak of. We did go to Yokohama, but that was in the winter of 1915. And, while there were reports of demon sightings, we encountered no enemies—nothing at all. It was deemed a false alarm," he expounds.

"Huh... How does that make sense...?" Shinobu said, baffled.

"Exactly. It doesn't. None of this did from the start. Time traveling is an impossibility of the highest order. And I doubt even someone like Muzan Kibutsuji would have a power of that caliber."

"That either means this is all just a figment of my imagination... or we're facing a demon stronger than Muzan," Shinobu shuddered at the thought.

"Indeed. You've found yourself in quite the predicament, young lady," Giyuu takes a sip from his cup of green tea.

Shinobu finally acquiesced and drank the green tea as well.

"Young lady? You still want to act like an old geezer?" Shinobu jests.

"Well... I am one... So..." Giyuu responds.

He adds, "But it's not like you can talk; you always had a tendency to act childish at times."

"Me? Childish? Oh dear, I think you're beginning to exhibit signs of dementia, Tomioka-san," she quips.

"Hey, I'm not THAT old," he counters.

"Oh my, have you looked into a mirror lately?"

"Should have brought insect repellent..." he notes.

As per standard procedure, a vein protrudes on Shinobu's forehead, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh you know, for the garden."

Shinobu plasters a forced smile onto her face, "Garden? I wonder where that is. Mind telling me?"

"Ah wait, I remember now, I accidentally set it on fire," Giyuu, obviously lying, states.

"Tomioka-san, that's a level of stupidity I wouldn't expect even from you."

"Oi, did you just insinuate that I'm stupid..."

"And that's why no one likes you, Tomioka-san," Shinobu conjures up that classic line.

Giyuu, upon hearing that, smiled, "Hah! Now that's something I haven't heard in a while."

It was almost a surreal moment for the two. Though they were now years apart with different outlooks and different experiences, they still were subconsciously willing to set aside enough time for their usual banters.

For Shinobu, it was an indication of reassurance; a sign that portends that all will be well in the end—that she will find a way to save both the Giyuu she knows and the Giyuu that now sits before her.

For Giyuu, it was a moment to hark back to the memories of the past. The memories he had discarded but were now unraveling before him. The good ones, the ones he had forgotten.

Shinobu, while examining his smiling countenance, was left curious, "You know, now that I think about it, I've never seen you smile."

"Ach. My younger self was a little shit. He just doesn't know how to smile... Give him time. And, most of all, talk to him. He'll learn," Giyuu advises.

Shinobu grinned, "Alright."

"I still don't know who is more of a headache: Tomioka-san or Old Tomioka-san," she jokes.

"Oh, my younger self is a hell of a lot more troublesome. The rascal has better eyesight than I do, but he's practically blind when it comes to everything else."

"That's for sure," Shinobu concurred, recalling all of the instances in which Giyuu's inadequate social skills were in full display.

"Yeah... He can't even discern his own feelings."

"Feelings?" Shinobu queried, asking for specification.

"Haha... Didn't you read my stupid journal?"

"Oh..." Shinobu began to remember.

I was, always have been, and always will be in love with you, Kocho Shinobu.

Shinobu's cheeks turned pink, "What of it..."

"Heh. Your face is red," he chuckles.

"S-Shut up!"

'Never would I have imagined that Tomioka-san would be the kind to act like a haughty grandpa... It seems so out of character....' Shinobu laments.

"As you can see, I'm more inclined to point that out than I would be twenty years ago. I guess age does a lot to your self-confidence," Giyuu notes as he drinks his tea.

And, though he was right about how his deportment has changed, the primary reason for such an alteration is not because of the aging process, but mainly due to how his self-isolation has made Giyuu yearn for human contact more than ever. This is especially true if he's talking with Kocho Shinobu, someone with whom he had a burning desire to converse for decades now.

In other words, he's just overly excited—like a little child about to meet his friends after school.

"Yeah sure..." Shinobu casts doubt.

"In any case, my younger self is quite the obstinate type. He thinks discipline and stoicism are better than welcoming 'shameful' emotions... You're just gonna have to be patient with him," he informs, his tone more solemn.

"You talk as if he's a completely different person, even though I'm talking to him right now," Shinobu remarks.

"We are different though. I am what Tomioka Giyuu will become if nothing is done..." he warns.

Shinobu frowns, "It's been hard, hasn't it? After all these years..."

"Oh please, I don't need your pity now," he replies plainly.

"It's not pity, it's sympathy," Shinobu corrects.

"Save that for when you get back to your boyfriend."

"Wha—!"

"Oh, don't even try to hide it," he said nonchalantly. "You have the face of a woman that says, 'I want to marry him, have beautiful children with him, and make love to him.' Pretty damn hilarious, I'd say."

Shinobu was blushing madly, "Since when did I say that?!"

He snickers, "I guess it can't be helped; I was, after all, pretty handsome back then."

"I never said that!"

"You're welcome," he smirked.

"You're insufferable..." Shinobu denounces sheepishly.

Giyuu's smile then transitioned into a more wistful and plaintive countenance, "And that's why you need to return to wherever you're from... I can't risk letting you die here. You have Tomioka Giyuu waiting for you back home."

Shinobu ponders his words for a while before responding: "And... and who will be waiting for you...?"

Giyuu finishes his cup of tea, "There won't be anyone. My time is almost over."

Shinobu yawned, "Wha—... What do you mea—..."

*Thud*

Shinobu's head prostrated onto the table, her body moving on its own.

Lassitude enveloped her entire being; she didn't have the strength to even stand or move her head.

"What is this..." she said lethargically, drifting in and out of sleep.

"Sleep-inducing medicine. I placed it into the green tea mixture," he answers plainly.

"Wha—..! What are you doing..." She tried raising her voice, but to no avail.

"Forcing you out of the field of battle. You won't be fighting anyone today, Kocho-san," Giyuu said as he stood up.

"B-Bastard... Let me fight..." Shinobu was having trouble even conversing.

"No, you don't want to. You have someone to protect, don't you? Then protect that dense bastard! Don't just needlessly die here!" he berated.

"But... You... I have to... protect... you..." she was getting close to sleeping.

"No. Not me. I'm no longer the Tomioka-san you once knew. The one you want to protect is waiting for you. He's the one you must save. He's the only one who can be saved."

"No..."

"When you wake up, you will only recognize this as a peculiar dream, nothing more and nothing less. But you will have learned its lessons. I urge you to save not only Tomioka Giyuu, but also Kocho Shinobu. You've always been too hard on yourself, Kocho-san. You deserve happiness as well. Remember that."

"No....!" she bemoaned.

"Goodbye, Kocho Shinobu, Insect Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps. And... Thank you for everything... For your tenderness and your acts of kindness. I will forever appreciate it..." he said pensively.

"No... no..." Shinobu dozed off.

She had fallen asleep.

..

..

Giyuu exhaled, 'Good, she's sleeping.'

He then sauntered to the hidden room—the one where Shinobu had found his memoirs.

Upon entering it, he scanned the small area.

'There,' he located one of the boxes.

He unbolted the wooden box and unveiled its contents for the first time in decades.

There was a katana in there.

He upraised his sheathed Nichirin Blade, the same one he had used so long ago.

At the head of the scabbard, the Tsuka (Handle) of the blade can be discerned, with the Tsuba (Guard) configured hexagonally with a bronze core and with an overlapping Fuschia border.

'Good thing I had this repaired before leaving for the mountains...'

He attached the scabbard to his waist belt.

He then found something else hidden beneath the katana.

It was his Haori.

The Haori that's split down the middle into two different patterns: the right one is a solid pink-red and the left one is geometrically patterned with squares of green, orange, and yellow.

The former, the solid pink-red texture, was once his sister's, Tomioka Tsutako's, haori.

The latter, with the patterns of green, orange, and yellow squares, belonged to his friend, Sabito.

He combined their Haoris in an act of remembrance—to honor their legacies.

"Nee-san... Sabito... please help me one last time..." his voice croaked.

He clothed himself with the old, tattered haori.

And off he went.

This was to be his final march to battle.

His last deed on this Earth.

..

..

..

..

Giyuu was sitting languidly, resting his back on the wall. He was holding a cup of saké with his left, and only, hand.

"What are you doing here," he called out.

"Can't I just chat with my son?"

"I hate talking to jackasses—especially if they are ghosts or whatever the fuck you are."

"Haha... You entertain me as always."

"I couldn't care less. You're just the manifestation of my shitty side."

"Even if I take the form of your late father?"

"The dishonorable, insane father who blamed his own son for his wife's death? Of course."

"Well, I'm not here to talk about your daddy issues."

"Then what the hell do you want."

"That woman you just picked up."

"... What about her?"

"She's a foreign element. She doesn't belong here. Unless something is done, she will be eliminated."

"Then what do you reckon I do?"

"Oh, you already know, don't you?"

"..."

"You have only two choices. One, kill her yourself. Two, kill yourself and that last remaining demon, this will allow your spirit to forge ahead into the depths of hell. Only then will she return to her world."

"..."

"Though, if I were you, I'd save the trouble and just cut her through the stomach. You still have a blood lust, don't you?" it chuckled.

"I'm nothing like you..."

"Then you must undertake the second option."

Giyuu took a sip from the cup, ".... I already know that..."

"Hahaha!!! Be sure to not let her die then!!"

".... No, I won't make the same mistake again."

"...." Silence.

"I know you're there, pipsqueak," he calls.

..

..

..

..

It was midnight.

The full moon was now ostentatiously flaunting its magnificent rays.

Two figures stood directly across from each other. The ambiance was exuding a sense of apprehension and malice.

"So, you've come..." the demon smirked.

"Indeed," said Giyuu.

"I commend you for accepting this one-sided request. But, for me, I've been dreaming of this moment for many years now..."

"Is that so..." Giyuu was hardly interested.

"Yes. I've aspired for a climactic, final duel between the forces of good and evil! You and I will battle until one of us is forever slain. We will fight for days upon end, with unceasing levels of hostilities!" the demon declared with enthusiasm.

"And why the hell would you want that..." Giyuu challenged.

"Because, my friend, we are pure warriors at heart. Dutifulness, fidelity to honor, and adherence to a greater cause," it pronounces with vigor.

"Fidelity to honor? I can only assume coercion is a part of your loose interpretation of that. Greater cause? What greater cause is the likes of you fighting for," Giyuu retorts.

"That greater cause, Water Hashira, is to resist the temptation to engage in an uncivilized brawl, and instead fight with honor and formality."

"... That sounds like horseshit," Giyuu replies.

"Don't you get it? For centuries, demons and slayers have clashed on an irregular basis; they fostered hatred against one another. And that's all because they fought with no chivalry, they harbored a disregard for the courtesy of a duel. They ignored Bushido."

"That's only samurai business. It has nothing to do with slayers or demons," Giyuu ripostes.

"Oh, but it is. For, the samurai were warriors. You and I are also warriors. Your selfless acts deserve the praise of a fellow warrior. You secluded yourself in this remote mountain as a means to protect the reputation and livelihood of your comrades. Oh, how tragic! And yet, how admirable! If only every warrior on this Earth could emulate your honorable virtue!"

It added: "Your self-sacrifice is indeed worthy of acclaim!"

"Self-sacrifice? Honor? What's so honorable about destroying yourself? None of what I did was honorable, it was just plain stupid," Giyuu asserts, regret gnaws away his soul.

"Either way, Water Hashira, I have deemed you worthy of this confrontation. Fighting is what makes us warriors complete. Nothing is more merciful than fighting to the death!"

"And who told you that? The samurai? The Emperor? God?" Giyuu rejoined.

"No, no. You must misunderstand, I only extrapolate my teachings from past experience. You and I are the last of our kind. You are one of the only living members of the Hashira and I am the only demon. We are both all alone. Without any cliques or comrades to swear loyalty to."

"..." Giyuu didn't respond.

"Society has no use for the likes of us anymore. We've been forced to sequester ourselves from a world that has abandoned the traditions and customs we had, for so long, adhered to and willfully obliged to..."

It expounded: "We have nothing else to protect."

Giyuu took a few seconds to think through what his enemy had just said, "... You are correct that our skills and outlook have been considered outdated by the rest of society. It is true that our kind has a difficult time adjusting to the realities of this new world."

"Then, you must understand why we must fight—!"

"But," Giyuu interrupted, "your entire presupposition is wrong. You aren't looking ahead, you're just looking out of your ass. Change is an inherent element of this world, and there's nothing you and I can do about it. So instead of trying to revert back to the days of old, one should plan for the future."

"What slanderous talking! You should be ashamed—!"

"Also..." Giyuu interjected again, "things are different. You might not have anything to protect since you're a pitiful demon. But I do. I have someone to protect."

Giyuu unsheathes his sword, "I will not give you the long, arduous conflict you crave for. I will end this now."

"Heh. So be it," the demon took up an offensive stance.

..

..

Shinobu awoke.

She groaned. It was a terrible headache.

The caliginous, yet the equally elegant, darkness of the starry night sky procured what little light it could muster for the Insect Hashira.

She scoured her surroundings, still trying to make sense of this world she found herself in.

Then, she remembered.

She immediately got up and gritted her teeth, "Son of a bitch! He left!"

She promptly began sprinting out of the abode and into whatever direction her senses took her.

She can't let it end.

Not like this.

..

..

"ARGGHH!!" The demon came charging, closing the gap between the two.

Its enlarged arms then stretched beyond imagination, aiming directly at Giyuu's head.

Giyuu, on the other hand, stood completely still. Not even moving a muscle.

'Calm yourself... Get into the right frame of mind... Remember. Everything is still... Nothing is moving...' He internally practices.

He was now ready.

'Water Breathing Technique, Eleventh Form: Dead Calm...' he gave the incantation.

The 11th Water Breathing Technique. The personal creation of, and one that is exclusively used by, the Water Hashira.

The proximity, previously covered in a layer of white snow, had transfigured into something else entirely. A colossal body of water, the enthralling engrossment of the bluish-whitish sea, had absorbed the ground with its encompassing embrace.

The entirety of the locality had essentially been encased by, and transformed into, a nautical expanse that not even sailors would dare to navigate through—lest they intend to summon the necessary courage to tackle the tumult.

Waves were splattering about, delivering a natural commotion never before witnessed in the isolated and elevated mounds of the Hokkaido mountain ranges.

Then, just as speedily as the water had invaded the space and the waves proliferated, the ruckus came to an abrupt halt.

*Drip*

It was all still. Everything was motionless. An atmosphere of tranquility has disclosed itself, paradoxically, amid a raucous engagement.

Giyuu had ceased all body movements and entered a state of complete equanimity. With impeccable and impalpable speed, he deflects, blocks, and lacerates any coming attacks.

That, of course, includes the oncoming projectiles.

Within the blink of an eye, the demon's appendages had been sliced off.

Even with an impaired physique and only one arm, Giyuu was as deadly and unerring as ever.

Giyuu steadily ambulated towards the demon, a deadpanned look on his remains as he approached.

Without having the time to even comprehend the sequence of events, the demon had now found Giyuu right next to him.

SLASH

The demon's head was lopped off.

Its body began disintegrating.

"H-how..." it asked, panicked.

"I'm just stronger, dumbfuck," Giyuu succinctly replied. "I've faced enemies far more menacing than you could ever be."

Giyuu had just denied the demon its long-desired goal of a conclusive, climactic battle. He had rejected the demon's entire premise of a warrior code by outright killing him and ending the battle within seconds.

"N-No... It can't end like this! I needed to die honorably!! I have to—!" it exclaimed.

"If you've got time to fantasize about a beautiful death," Giyuu cuts in, "why not live beautifully until the end?"

With what was left of its head, the demon concocted an expression of utter shock, "Oh... So that's how it is... I see now..."

It had admitted defeat.

"May you find peace with yourself in the next life. Good luck," Giyuu, in an unexpected gesture of chivalry, bid farewell to the enemy.

"As to you, Water Hashira..." it reciprocated its final words.

It had fully decayed into nothingness, a fate relegated to all demonic creatures of the night.

Giyuu sighed.

It was over.

He lazily dropped his sword and looked up at the celestial sky.

'What a last sight...' he relished in his final moments.

He subsequently felt a sudden thrust of pressure and unabated pain against his chest.

*HACK* *HACK*

He collapsed onto the ground and started disgorging large quantities of blood.

His lungs were irreparably damaged at this point. The breathing technique, especially for a skill as strenuous and draining as the 11th form, was too much for his weak body.

He had destroyed his own respiratory system.

He was now at the doorstep of death.

But, this time, there was no going back.

..

..

Shinobu ran at an unprecedented pace, searching tooth and nail for Giyuu.

She galloped across the vicinity, trying her best to prevent the snowfall from hampering her movements.

Until finally, she got something.

She spotted a figure prostrated on the ground in the distance. She instantly recognized that idiosyncratic, multi-faceted haori.

It was Giyuu. He was lying face-down in a puddle of, what is presumably, his own blood.

Shinobu immediately darted for his disposition.

'Please be alive... Please be alive... Please be alive...' she prayed over and over in her head.

Whence she finally reached him, she pulled him over to his back.

To her horror, Giyuu was slobbering a dangerous amount of blood from his mouth.

He was still alive, but he wasn't breathing properly.

Despite her conspicuously perturbed state, Shinobu immediately comported herself and mentally drew up a plan of action.

"There's no time to waste, I'm going to have to conduct an operation on you," she says sternly.

Giyuu tightly clasped her haori with his left hand, vying for her attention.

He then motioned her to come closer. She complied and situated her right ear closer to his mouth.

"N-No..." he whispered weakly.

"What?! NO! This is non-negotiable! We're leaving now!" she asserts.

He grasped her haori once again.

Giyuu shook his head in a left-right movement, signaling his disapproval.

"Kocho-san... Listen to me...." Giyuu, his voice more weak and raspy than ever, replied.

"Tomioka-san..." Shinobu, while starting to dither, nevertheless stood steadfast in her confidence of a full recovery, "I know that you will come back to me. You can still recuperate from thi—"

"I am about to depart... like everyone else..." he said wistfully.

"No," Shinobu, with a sotto voce tone of voice, rejected, "Never. No."

Her voice quivers, "I'm not going to let you go. I will not let you go..."

"You have no... choice in the matter, Kocho-san..."

"Why..." her voice breaks. "Why?! Why'd you do it?! I don't understand you... Why do you want to protect me?"

Giyuu simply smiled and whispered, "Because, Kocho Shinobu... I was... always have been... and always will be... in love with you."

Tears begin to swell up in Shinobu's eyes as her chest concurrently tightens.

"I've... lived my life... staring at my gloomy face... and I'm sick of it..." he says. "So... at least when my eyes... finally close... don't go looking... like me..."

He continues, "The girl... who reprimanded me... when we first met... And the woman... who always used to tease me... The woman I've spent my whole life... hopelessly in love with... is better than I am, isn't she...?"

Shinobu gritted her teeth and tightly clasped her hands. She lowered her head and restrained her impulses, trying her utmost not to let the droplets formulate in her eye sockets.

After a while, she lifted her head back up and plastered a forced smile, "Yeah... She is."

"Ah... I've always... wanted to see that smile..." he says feebly, but joyfully as well.

"Oh dear, Tomioka-san, you would only creep the ladies away if you say that," she temporarily plays the part, as per Giyuu's final request.

"Is that so..." he had a wide grin on his face, the first time in forever.

"Yeah, so stop being a social hermit. Otherwise, no woman would want to marry you," she puts in all the effort in the world to maintain the mannerisms and the lighthearted tone of voice in this type of situation.

"Ha... I see..."

"Y-You know," she nearly loses it. "This is why no one likes you, Tomioka-san..."

"I'm not dis— dis—" Giyuu's breathing becomes less perennial and more sporadic, "disliked...."

He slowly closes his eyes.

He stops. His pupils are no longer visible. His breathing comes to a halt.

"Ara, Tomioka-san..." Shinobu undertakes a futile attempt to regain his attention, "You know you won't make friends if you leave them hanging like this."

Nothing.

"... Are you listening, Tomiok—..." Shinobu's voice cracks. She loses her composure.

She already was sobbing. Tears were viciously flowing as if they were a waterfall.

Despite the intensity of such an outburst of emotions, Shinobu's desperation could not be heard; it was audible enough to exceptionally stand out, but not general enough to be easily discerned.

Nevertheless, she embraced the man tightly in her arms, whimpering onto his shoulder.

She was already aware of it.

She already knew that he was dead.

He left with a smile on his face.

'Goodbye... Tomioka-san... Until we meet again...'

..

..

..

..

Giyuu stood here, absent-minded, in the ethereal plane—the blissful purlieu of the heavens.

He looked up.

"Why am I here..." he was surprised.

"Oh my, you don't know?" a voice called out from behind.

He turned around and instinctively widened his eyes, "K-Kocho-san..."

"We've been waiting for you," she smiled.

He could see them. All of them.

Urokodaki, Makomo, Sabito, Tsutako.... He can see her.... The Insect Pillar... They were all beaming with warmth and pleasure.

He frowns, "I... I shouldn't be here..."

"Now, don't be like that," Shinobu grabs his hand. "Otherwise, people might not like you!"

Giyuu finally accepts it and smiles, "Yeah... You're right..."

"Shall we go then?" Shinobu asks.

Giyuu slightly tightens his grip on her hand, "Together."

She grinned, "Always."

And off they went.