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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What do you guys think of the (slightly) new book cover?

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Shinobu

Dreams are a strange phenomenon.

They can lull you into the extraordinary of experiences. Whether it be the excitement of a magical adventure, the joyful memories of the past, the wonderment of an alternative and brighter future, or the dread of a nightmare, dreams take upon many different displays and iterations.

They can last for as long as you please. But, in the end, they will always end.

In reality, dreams only last for about a few hours—even if you might be stuck for days.

The human mind is an enigma; it's very puzzling and no one understands it one bit.

This is why something like a 16-year-long dream, harboring all the explicit and implicit characteristics of the material world, only lasts for about two hours or so.

It tricks you into believing that THIS is reality.

I managed to escape it though. But at what cost?

The memories of a life forty years into the future are conflating with the memories of a life ten years in the past.

I know words such as "television", "cinema", or "nuclear", even if such terms don't exist in the current ​​Taishō Period.

When I think of my house, I don't think of our Meiji-era traditionally-style abode, but more along the lines of a westernized, modern structure.

When I think of my parents, I only remember the tremendous grief of losing their eldest son at a young age, but not the vague grief of losing that exact same son due to a miscarriage.

And when I think of my dear sister, I can only recall a fastidious student diligently studying for the college entrance exams, but not the one who diligently trained for the Hashira nomination process.

I remember loved ones being alive and well, not dead and sullied.

And even though those fake memories are slowly fading, I still like to hark back to them from time to time.

They give me something to smile about.

"Hey, Shinobu, when the man at the reception asks for your age, just say that you're five," Otōsan propounds.

The four of us—father, mother, Kanae, and I—were making our way to the movie theaters. Friday movie nights were always the best; we had time to spend together as a family.

"But I'm six..." I replied.

"Anata! What do you think you're doing?" Okāsan castigates.

"What? Cinemas charge less when you have kids ages five and under," Otōsan, in accordance with his cheap lifestyle, says.

"But isn't that lying?" Kanae innocently brings up.

"It's Finneee!" he exclaims, "It's not lying if it's within a one year range!"

"If you keep doing this to the business, the manager might as well forbid the whole family from ever going there again!" Okāsan counters.

"But they didn't notice when I did with Kanae!" he smirked. "And since Shinobu isn't as honest as her sister, it'll be fine!"

"Hey! I'm a good girl like Nee-san!" I protest.

"You sure are haha! That's why you have to listen to Otōsan and say that you're five!" he laughs.

"Anata!" Okāsan raises concern once again.

"But I'm honest, like Nee-san!" I say once again.

Kanae looked at me with curiosity, "I thought you told me to lie to Otōsan and Okāsan about—"

"Nee-san! We're supposed to be keeping that a secret! This is why you shouldn't be so honest!" I hilariously contradicted myself.

Okāsan shook her head, "And I wonder which side of the family she got that trait from."

"Where's the harm in that?" Otōsan grinned. "It just means that Shinobu is smart like me!"

"I don't wanna be like Otōsan, I wanna be like Okāsan!" I pout as I hugged my mother's leg.

"Me too!" Kanae also latched onto my mother's other leg.

"Ehhhh... Are you serious...?" My father was taken aback by this sudden betrayal.

Okāsan merely relished in the glory of having two loyal daughters, "See? That's what happens when you act all silly."

Otōsan sighs, "Kami-sama, why are my sweet, cute daughters leaving me???"

"I love Okāsan!" Kanae shouted, in order to further corroborate her intentions to emulate her.

"Me too!" I say.

"But what about your handsome papa!" Otōsan tries to win us back.

"Eh? No, I like Okāsan," I reject.

"I love Okāsan!" Kanae repeats.

"Dear Kami-sama, why are you doing this to me???" Otōsan said histrionically.

Okāsan merely giggled at what is considered to be the family's daily banter sessions—with Otōsan now at the butt of the joke.

"Ah wait, the cinema's right there! Alright, remember Shinobu, you are five!" Otōsan initiates his master plan.

I simply stick my tongue out at him as an act of defiance.

He exhales, "I'll buy you a cotton candy."

"Okay! I agree!" I was easily bribed.

"Shinobu!" my mother tries to shame me for falling for such a scheme.

"Can I have some too?" Kanae supplicates.

"Not you too, Kanae..." Okāsan groans.

"It's settled!" Otōsan says in a jocund manner.

We finally arrived at the front desk.

"Three tickets, and one discount ticket, please," Otōsan pulls out his wallet.

The man takes a glance at me and then asks, "Young lady, how old are you?"

"I'm five!" I answer.

"Huh... Ok..."

My father's bet paid off. He was going to save money today.

At least, that was what everyone initially thought.

"What's 13 times 13!" the man suddenly says.

"169," I automatically respond.

Otōsan slapped his forehead.

"Oh dear," Okāsan pinches the bridge of her nose, though her disappointment was directed more towards her husband than to me.

Kanae merely giggled.

"Interesting. I don't think they teach five-year-olds the multiplication table," the man points out.

"Well you see, she's a genius, soo," Otōsan tries to do damage control, but it is of no use.

"Unfortunately, Kocho Jiro, I am aware of your sneaky endeavors. You're quite the cheap man," the man smirks as he prepares four instead of three tickets.

"... Just give me the tickets," my father capitulated.

"Just as I expected," Okāsan said with pride, her prediction had come true.

"S-Shut up!" Otōsan said sheepishly, he was obviously embarrassed.

Kanae and I only laughed as we watched our father's face go red in reaction to our mother's smug expression.

I had easily foiled Otōsan's foolproof plan within seconds.

It still makes me chuckle every now and then.

... If only I could keep these memories forever...

..

..

..

..

I was feeling immensely groggy whence I was bestirred from sleep.

I groan slightly as I massage my forehead—a terrible headache has manifested itself.

Then, I promptly upraised myself—a maneuver that engendered pain due to my wounds.

I nearly fell back down, though, thanks to the current condition of my left leg—which was encased in an Orthopedic cast.

Ow... Forgot my leg is still somewhat broken.

Thus, in order to remedy this predicament, I utilized the wall and its protrusions as a means to support my body—since my leg couldn't.

Nevertheless, I was able to stand straight and scour the environment I now found myself in.

It was a relatively large room furnished with Japanese-style architecture, from the ligneous flooring to the furniture themselves—though that's to be expected.

As for the specifications, the room is essentially a Washitsu room, which is a Japanese room with tatami flooring—a type of mat used as a flooring material in traditional Japanese-style rooms. There's also a tokonoma, which is a decorative alcove—a recess, or a hollow space, in the wall—in which items for artistic appreciation are displayed.

To my anterior, the shoji screen doors were wide open; thus, allowing the warm embrace of the sunlight to bring life into this room, while the occasional breeze counteracts the heat emitted from the sunlight. The unbolted doors also provided me with a view of the green courtyard outside.

What is this place?

Compared to the eerie setting of the sewage system, this looks like heaven...

I began limping towards the door.

I can't see Tomioka anywhere. Maybe he's in another room?

Unfortunately, I was caught red-handed as the shoji screen swung open and an elderly lady walked in.

"Oh my, you're up?" she queried.

"I apolo—" I was about to say until I was able to clearly distinguish the lady's face.

"Akihiro... Yui...?" I stared at her with bewilderment.

That's her. That's definitely her. There's no way she's not her.

I can easily recognize that smile, that tone of voice, and that face from anywhere.

"Hello again, Kocho-san," she grinned.

"Why are you here?" I questioned.

"Oh? Didn't I mention that we're in Hachioji right now?" she notes.

"Hachioji?" I began to wonder.

That sounds familiar...

"So where are you heading?" she asks.

"Kanagawa Prefecture, and you?" I said.

"Ooh, Kanagawa? I'm just going to Hachioji. I don't suppose you're going to Yokohama, are you?" she replies.

"Oh..." I finally came to the revelation.

"I'm surprised you still remember me," she said as she placed down a tray of towels. "It's been about three days since I brought you two in."

"Three?! Where's Tomioka?" I immediately asked.

"The Water Hashira is still asleep, about three rooms down," she answered.

"I have to see him," I assert.

"Now, now, no need to get hasty. I understand you want to see your 'business partner,'" she quipped, earning a hint of embarrassment from me, "but I am also tasked with overseeing your recovery as well."

After everything that has happened thus far, the urge to see his face and to gently caress him—as I did down in the sewers—is too great.

I want to see him again, but I also know I can't be discourteous to my benefactor—who just happens to be someone I was already on cordial terms with.

"Is he okay? Has he woken up yet?" I proceed with another question; I want to at least be made aware of his condition.

"Unfortunately, he is not awake yet. But do not fret, because—despite his injuries—he's pretty much guaranteed a full recovery. You Hashiras sure are resilient," she remarks.

I let out a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness...

He'll be fine.

Wait, did she say 'Hashiras'?

"You... know about us?" I said hesitantly.

"Of course, but before we get wrapped up in a long exchange, might I ask you to return to your futon?" she implored.

"Oh, of course," I relented, knowing that I wouldn't be able to win an argument against an individual of the medical field—since I'm a doctor myself.

Despite my impaired state, I was able to somewhat smoothly revert back to my original position—being seated on the futon.

"Anywho, let me explain," she begins, "I may have given you a half-truth back on the train."

"Half-truth...?"

"Yes. Everything I've conveyed to you in that conversation was the whole truth, except for one aspect. That being my husband, Akihiro Hiroto," she elucidates.

She adds, "Hiroto-san didn't pass away as an officer of the Imperial Navy, but as a Hinoe-ranked member of the Demon Slayer Corps."

"Your husband... was a demon slayer...?" This certainly was surprising to hear.

"Yep! He joined the Corps as a young teenager, and continued his service well after we had wedded and started a family."

Wow... I didn't know Akihiro-dono was the spouse of a former slayer... That probably explains why we are convalescing here—beneficiaries of the Corps have a propensity to offer up their auxiliary and logistical support as a form of gratitude.

An observation pops up in my mind, "Then, during the trip, you must've recognized me and Tomioka as slayers."

"Correct, I could tell by the scabbards and uniforms haha. But I didn't know you two were the Insect and Water Hashiras. That's amazing!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah..." I didn't know what to make of that reaction.

"Anyways, I was the one who received your distress signal—the Kasugai crow addressed you two as the Insect and Water Pillars, respectively. When I arrived at the scene, I was shocked to find you guys in particular, and the wounds you sustained..."

My memory is still pretty hazy when it comes to the events that followed my reunion with Tomioka.

The last thing I remember is coming out of that lateral pipeline and into the outside world. I can recall, using each other as support, Tomioka and I carried ourselves out of the underground setting.

After that, Tomioka fell unconscious and I subsequently sent the Kasugai crow. Never in a million years would I have guessed that the likes of Akihiro-dono would be the one to respond.

"... We greatly underestimate the gravity of the mission," I said, noting how Tomioka and I took it for granted that this would be like any other joint assignments with low-level demons.

"What exactly did you fight down there?" she asked worryingly.

"It was... something terrifyingly strong," I shivered at the thought.

Osore. We fought a demon named Osore.

But I also met and spoke to Osore. The human named Osore.

I've always hated demons, and never was one to be lenient towards them.

And I will never forgive Osore for what he did to Tomioka.

But I cannot deny that the child was, supposedly, being held against his will. That he spent multiple lifetimes trapped inside that wretched body and forced to kill, consume, and repeat nonstop.

I cannot give clemency to Osore the demon, but I can sympathize with Osore the human.

I guess what I'm trying to point out is that not everything can be painted as a black and white pendulum; there are many gray areas.

But what garnered the most concern for me was the insinuation that there are more of them down there.

Osore mentioned that he has three siblings, one older brother, and two other sisters, along with his father.

He also mentioned that his father was the one who resurrected them into demons, implying that they were dead beforehand.

This 'Father' demon might actually have powers on par with Muzan Kibutsuji if that's truly the case. But I might be wrong. I don't really know.

What needs to be done now is to confer with Oyakata-sama on recent developments so that he can hopefully spare additional—

"Kocho-san? Are you listening?"

"Huh?" I was knocked out of my trance.

"I brought some wet towels if you ever get sweaty," she proffers.

"Oh, thank you," I replied.

Now that I think about it, I haven't really expressed any form of appreciation for Akihiro-dono's help, nor am I as surprised by her presence as any normal person would be.

I guess I just have too much in my mind.

"Akihiro-dono, I apologize for my indiscretions," I give a slight bow. "I haven't properly thanked you for your help."

"Oh no, no, no," Akihiro-dono shook her head. "Please don't trouble yourself. I'm sure you have a lot on your plate right now, and I can understand why you wouldn't be in the right state of mind. Besides, I'm doing this because I want to, not because I want anything in return."

"Ah... Thank you, Akihiro-dono. You've helped a great deal," I smiled.

"I have? Well, that's good!"

"No, I mean it. You really have," I said in a more solemn tone.

After all, her words literally gave me clues in the previous dreamscape... It helped me figure out who he was...

"Well, I'm glad," her countenance beamed with pleasure. "Anyways, you should be sleeping now."

"But I—"

"Nope. You still need rest," she stands her ground.

I somewhat begrudgingly adhere to her instructions, "Alright..."

..

..

..

..

I've been having more and more dreams about Tomioka lately.

From embarrassing scenarios such as attending the Summer Festival together—just the two of us, no one else.

To sorrowful ones, such as when Tomioka died in my arms.

His very essence has become associated with warmth, sadness, hope, and trepidation.

I wonder why?

I think about him a lot. Probably more so than even Kanae—which is a first in years.

I ponder his importance to me. He's simply valuable. I can't lose him again.

Something inside of me feels different when I think of him.

It's just... surreal.

I think back to the days of old.

He was a strange man, but one I found to be fascinating. He's surprisingly kind and humble.

He was a peculiar individual but provided extremely useful advice that helped me grow. He's willing to help others grow to the best of his abilities.

He didn't know how to socialize, yet gave me motivation and a purpose when I was at my lowest. We shared more in common with regards to our troubled past than I previously presumed—and, because of that, he was able to understand my suffering.

I can relate to him, to his pain, and to his obsessive, duty-bound mindset

I annoy him all the time, but he still risks his own life to protect me.

He was there for me all along.

"You two share a lot. I looked through all the memories, for both of you. There was a lot of love. It reminded me of Mama and Papa back then!"

"Love...?"

"Yeah, you must deeply love him!"

Love...

"She had an indomitable spirit, but also a gentle and genuine soul. And... she was the most beautiful thing in the world... Like a Wisteria flower..." he said wistfully

"You must've loved her a lot," I said.

"Love... Huh... Yeah... I guess I did..."

He was in love with me...

How did he know that he loved me?

How does one come to that realization?

It's all very confusing to me; I've never been exposed to it before...

Maybe it comes naturally...

Who knows...

..

..

​​I felt warm... I felt caressed... It was soothing as if all of my woes were simply washed away by a tidal wave...

My feelings awashed with a mix of emotions ranging from relief to satisfaction with the many dimensions of life—including its faults and beauties. Like the burden of my grievances and unbridled malice was suddenly lifted from my shoulders by someone else.

Standing upon the precipice of a waterfall, I spotted an outline from the distance—it looked human. This person seems to have masculine features, indicating that this individual is a man, and he has a missing arm too.

Why did you help me?

Why do you care about me?

Why me?

How... did you know that you were in love with me?

"..." he didn't answer the heaps of questions I threw at him.

Please, I want to know.

"You already do," he responds.

"Tomioka, wait!" I called out.

He simply waves his hand goodbye before fading into the light.

And thus, he was gone.

Gone before I could say something.

Gone before I could tell him.

Tell him how I truly felt.

..

..

..

..

..

..

Giyuu

"I don't need him around here," a rancorous elocution emphatically expressed.

"Why? Why do you treat Giyuu like this?" a feminine voice protests.

I am hiding in my room, reclining my body against the doorframe as I clandestinely overhear an altercation between my older sister and—who is supposedly—my father.

"That thing is the reason why Tsukiko, your mother, is dead!!" he gives a sharp reply.

"How dare you call him that!" Nee-san reprimands. "He's your son!!"

"That boy is no son of mine," he scowls.

"If you won't acknowledge your own son, then you have no right to call me your daughter!" Nee-san countered.

"You dare say that against me? Your own father?!" he shouted.

"Yes! I'm not a child anymore; I'm 14!!" she yelled back.

She added, "You're not the loving parent I once knew... You leave for war and come back four years later as a drunk, morose, lazy, and spiteful man who spends his nights at bars and doesn't even think of supporting the family he abandoned long ago! And yet, you still have the audacity to disavow your own son?!"

"You don't even understand the shit I went through! What's worse, I come back home to find a dead wife and the boy who killed her!" he hollered.

"She died in childbirth! Even you should know that!" she tried to reason with him.

"All the more reason why that little rascal doesn't deserve to be alive!"

"Get out..." Nee-san mutters.

"Huh?! What was that?!"

"I said... GET OUT!! You are no longer welcome here, Tomioka Isao!!" she replies in a surge of fury and vitriol.

Never had I ever heard the usually calm and collected Nee-san raise her voice this much.

He angrily grunts, "Fine by me! I couldn't give three fucks what you and that boy do in MY house!!"

Using my hands, I cover both ears and shut my eyelids.

Who needs him anyway? Who needs a father? I have Nee-san, she and I lived a perfectly peaceful life before he arrived a week ago—arriving from another country, fighting a distant war for years upon end.

Thank god he's leaving.

But in this instance, at four years of age, I was first exposed to this feeling—what it felt like to be hated, to be scorned for my very existence.

I didn't realize it at the time, but my father's treatment of me would sow the seeds of my obsessive sense of responsibility.

If my father is such a scoundrel, then I must be better than him—to help Nee-san—is what I told myself.

For a man whom I would—under normal circumstances—address as 'Otōsan', for someone with such close familial bonds, his unconditional detestation for me would give a glimpse of what is to come—the thematic self-loathing that would become prolific throughout my lifetime.

My sister used to speak fondly of him; her sincerity gave the impression that my father was a man of discipline, of honor, and of duty.

In any case, my father disappeared after he left, his whereabouts forever unknown.

Nee-san never mentioned him again.

..

..

..

..

A gush of cool, placating wind whistled into the room.

I was immediately roused from a deep slumber.

My head was reposed against something soft. It was a pillow. I'm lying on a futon.

I tried to lift the upper half of my musculature off the ground and into an upright posture.

A sudden bout of pain obstructed any such movements, however, and I was pulled back down.

I'm swathed in a plethora of bandages, some of them are the work of Kocho, while others are brand new.

Great... I'm physically incapacitated.

I scan my surroundings.

Well, this definitely isn't some egregiously revolting habitat—the one I found myself situated in for god knows how long.

Where am I?

"Hachioji, Tokyo," someone called out.

"... Pardon me?" I couldn't identify my interlocutor due to my present posture.

"You might've been wondering where you are," she answered.

I shift my head to my dextral side.

An elderly woman is wiping the pots within the tokonoma using a piece of cloth.

"Hachioji...?" I said.

"Indeed."

That's nearly 40 kilometers from Yokohama...

Wait, how did I get here in the first place...? I don't remember anything right after Kocho—...

"Where's my partner?" I quickly asked.

"Ah, the Insect Hashira? She's resting in another room as of now. She was quite insistent on being at your side, so I had to practically force her to recuperate within the designated location," she explains.

Right... Kocho's alive...

She's alive... I don't have to be so on edge anymore...

But I still want to see her, dammit.

"It's been about a week since you and Insect Hashira-sama arrived here," the lady also noted.

"A week?" I said, dumbfounded.

I was out cold for that long?

"Hai. Insect Hashira-sama sent a distress signal via her Kasugai crow. We were the first to respond to that message. We thence extricated you two from the banks of the Sagami River," she expounds.

"I see."

"Both of you were terribly wounded," she remarked, "broken bones, damage to the rib cages, deep lacerations, bite marks, and many more. We were forced to undertake a blood transfusion. It's almost a miracle neither of you died right then and there."

This must be some family or private institution voluntarily offering free medical services to wounded slayers—since the Corps itself doesn't have a medical branch that extends throughout the country.

"I cannot thank you enough for your indispensable assistance," I gave my gratitude.

"Oh, it's nothing. I owe a lot to you folks," she replies.

"You have a history with the Demon Slayer Corps?" I inquired.

"My late husband was a former slayer," she answered.

That means her husband is deceased.

"Ah, ok... I apologize for the sudden inconvenience of our presence," I try to hoist myself up in order to execute a formal bow.

"Oh no, please don't apologize. The best thing you can do for our sake is to lie down and rest," she repudiated my attempted apology.

I reluctantly acquiesced and reverted back to my antecedent disposition. Although, that's also partly because of the sheer difficulty that would've resulted in me trying to lift my body.

"Our work is nothing compared to what you Hashiras went through. The enemy must've been extraordinarily difficult to beat," she explicates.

"Indeed," I acknowledged.

"But you and your partner will be just fine now. No need to worry anymore. Your battle is over," she reassures.

"... I see..." the abrupt peace and serenity of the environment, especially after nonstop fighting and suffering, was still something I had to adjust to.

"Well, I'll take my leave now. If you need anything, there's a handbell to your left," she begins ambulating towards the exit.

"Thank you," I say back.

"Oh right, I haven't introduced myself yet," she murmurs.

"My name is Akihiro Yui. It's a pleasure to meet you, Water Hashira-sama," she begins.

That sounds familiar...

"Tomioka Giyuu," I reciprocate the gesture.

"What a lovely name," she smiled. "Anyways, I ought to take care of business now. You should go back to sleep."

That smile alone exuded the subtleties of motherly love. It reminded me of Tsutako-Neesan.

"When is it possible for me to meet the Insect Hashira?" I queried, as observing Kocho in good health will definitely bring consolation to my perturbed mind.

"Well... I could try as soon as both of you are concurrently awake," she informs.

"Please, I want to see her at the earliest possible time."

"Oh my, you two are quite similar... I guess there really was something going on between you both..." she whispered, but just loud enough for me to make out her words.

Albeit, I have no clue what she meant by that.

"I'll try my best to arrange something," she affirms.

"Thank you very much," I expressed.

"Now, get some sleep," she says as she swings open the door.

I complied and relaxed my body.

The shoji door swung shut.

As a result of my weakened state and persistent lethargy, I drifted back to sleep almost instantly.

..

..

..

..

I had another dream about my father.

This time, he was taunting me. Blaming me for all the problems in his little world, not giving a care whether the little boy was paying heed or not—the boy wasn't.

But, at some point, his incessant insults got to my nerves. I chose to retaliate.

"If only you loved your children half as much as you loved my mother, then maybe Nee-san wouldn't be dead now. Maybe you would be eaten instead. That would've made my world a whole lot better," I lambasted.

"Oho? You're blaming me for Tsutako's death? When you're the one who ran away like a coward as she was being devoured right in front of you? Don't act like you've got the moral high ground, kid. You're just like me," he countered with his hoarse, scratchy cadence.

"I'm nothing like you. I will never be."

"You think abstaining from booze and cigarettes is the reason why you are different? HAHAHA!! Don't make me laugh! We are all too similar, whether you and I like it or not," he rebuffed.

"You're just speaking nonsense."

"Oh no, kid, not this time. I ain't drunk now, I'm only speaking the truth," he said in a more serious tone.

"How so. Tell me," I demanded.

"We both failed to protect what we most cherished," he says with disdain.

"You protected nothing," I chastised.

"Ahaha! That's fucking funny, you know that? I didn't protect anything? You should've asked your sister for more insight."

"Shut up, old man. You never wanted to protect anything other than your stupid honor," I said with derision.

"I protected this great country from those subhuman Chinese Rats!! Me!! I served our divine Emperor with honor and dignity!! I looked after the platoon I was in command of!!" he suddenly cried hysterically, like a drunk man you'd find in the alley.

"That means nothing when your children are forced to live on their own, while you win medals in another land," I retorted.

"Medals? Me? How the hell does one win a medal when his entire platoon was wiped out?! All thirty-seven men. Under my command. And I was the only survivor!! Who in god's name would earn a medal for killing his own men?!"

"..."

"I was disgraced! I came back home not as a war hero, but as a coward!"

"Maybe you are one..."

"Well shit," he said mockingly. "I guess that's a trait I passed on to you."

"Piss off."

"Don't you get it, kid? I had things to protect. My wife, my platoon, and my daughter. And I couldn't even save the first two, while the third ostracized me like the rest of 'em."

"..."

"You and I are the same. You failed to protect Tsutako. You even broke your promise to Sabito by letting Makomo die. Not long after, Sabito was gone as well."

Then, he added another statement that provoked my ire: "And that Kocho-san of yours... You won't be able to protect her either."

"What did you say?" I said with vitriol.

"You heard that right. Kocho-san is doomed to DIE. And there's NOTHING you can do about it!"

"She's still alive!" I rebuked.

"Indeed she is. But is that really the end of it? Did you not learn a single THING from all of those damn visions? Are you fucking blind or what?"

"What the hell are you saying?"

"THINK! Think back to all of the dreams you've had since you entered the sewers! Think back to what the Flower Pillar said! Think about what you saw! If you can't do any of that, then good luck trying to save that friend of yours."

"Think?"

"Holy hell, do I really have to spell it out for you?" he said with irritation.

I don't get it... What am I missing...?

"Why does she hate demons..." father gives a hint.

"Because both her parents and older sister were eaten by them," I answered.

"How great is her hatred," he gives another.

I recall the words of the late Flower Hashira.

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

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

"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."

She's extremely angry.

"And then what? What has her anger compelled her to do?" he presses further.

Kocho's words come into mind.

"I want to kill it, Tomioka-san. I want to relish in a pool of its blood, of its internal organs. That's all I've been thinking about since then—how to kill it."

"I can't rest as long as that thing is alive. I hate it so much. I want it gone. I wanna be the one to kill it," said Shinobu.

She wanted to kill Douma. She wanted him dead at all costs.

"And to what lengths will she pursue that aspiration?"

By any means necessary.

"Be more specific, shithead. Remember what you saw."

That one dream... Where she administered an intravenous inoculation.

She put something inside her body. I don't exactly know what it was, but I could tell its properties were analogous to that of the purple wave that flooded earlier.

"And what was that purple wave?"

I don't know...

"Where did it lead you to?"

A Wisteria forest...

Wisteria...

It's wisteria... That liquid substance is wisteria.

"Not enough."

Wisteria...

Uh...

"What does the Insect Hashira specialize in?"

Poison concoctions and mixtures...

Poison...

Wisteria poison...

She imbued wisteria poison into herself?

"Goddamn, I didn't think I had to help your retarded ass this much."

But why would she inject wisteria into herself?

"The second vision will give you the answers. The one where the Insect Hashira faced the Upper Moon Two."

... What about it?

"How did she die?"

... Why do I have to know this...?

"Just say it, fuckface."

She was... absorbed...

Just thinking about it is painful enough.

"Now think about the beast you fought. The Insect Hashira had a few rounds against him before she was knocked out. Did you notice anything different about the beast?"

It was severely disfigured beyond comparison.

"And why's that?"

Kocho fought it.

"With those weak arms of hers, she can only rely on wisteria poison to inflict damage."

So? The poison must've incurred a great deal of damage then.

"But didn't her poison not work beforehand?" He brings up an important point.

Right...

"So then how in god's name did that skinny girl cause the demon's body to CONTINUOUSLY melt away?"

I don't know... She must've developed a toxin strong enough to induce that kind of reaction.

"Not within the time frame she was working."

Then what?

"What did she inject herself with...?"

Wisteria poi— oh I see...

"She had a bite mark on her left arm, didn't she?"

Yes...

And that released the poison into the enemy's systems.

"But it can't be just any normal amount. With that kind of reaction, she has an unimaginable quantity residing within her."

Why would she do that?

"You still haven't caught on? No more clues. Figure it out on your own."

Why...? Why...?

Hm.

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

What she has set out to do...

"I can't rest as long as that thing is alive. I hate it so much. I want it gone. I wanna be the one to kill it," said Shinobu.

She wants to kill Douma...

Douma absorbed her...

Just biting her arm caused the Demon's physique to liquefy...

In that case, absorption, theoretically, could disintegrate even the strongest of demons...

Wait.

Wisteria Poison. Injection. Douma. Liquify. Absorption. Disintegration. Revenge...

Self-destruction.

Intentionally absorb oneself... to induce a reaction...

She's planning to let herself be absorbed by Douma in order to kill him...

I felt weak.

It was as if the weight of the world not only fell on my shoulders, but the weight of all those years, all those lies, and all those secrets had overwhelmed my cognitive functions and fractured my skull.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer weight of that statement.

"Ah, so you've finally realized it... Hahaha..." he snickered.

No... it can't be...

"It's hopeless. You'll never be able to save her. She will be dead... on her own accord," he sneered.

No... that's not true...

"That's just reality, kid. Everyone around you will die. And there's nothing you will be able to do about it. Because you are, and always will be weak."

No...

Kocho... Why? Why?

Was everything all a lie?

Did you plan all of this from the start?

Is this why I'm doomed to never save you?

Is everything hopeless?

"It is indeed... Your beloved Kocho-san is going to abandon you, the same way I did to you, haha..."

LIES!! YOU LIE!!

"Hey, I know I'm a jackass, but I'm never one to fabricate facts."

I DON'T CARE!! YOU'RE BEHIND ALL OF THIS ANYWAY!!

"Well, do as you please. Ignore all the warning signs if you want. Don't listen to Kocho Kanae. Don't believe what you see. I couldn't care less. But... don't come running back to me like a little boy in hell, lamenting about how you didn't listen or how you didn't trust your own eyes. Do as you please."

FUCK YOU!

"Heh... Fuck you too."

DAMMIT!

GODDAMMIT!

What can I do?!

"Face it, kid, you can't do anything. It's not that she can't be saved, but more like she doesn't want to be saved. It's as simple as that. The two of us are doomed to lose our loved ones."

Shit...

... I had to learn about this in the worst possible way...

It took me too long.

Now what am I supposed to do?

How can I fix things now?

Kocho...

..

..

..

..

..

..

It was late at night.

But Shinobu couldn't sleep.

She simply couldn't take it anymore.

She had to see Giyuu with her own eyes.

Without having to resort to navigating through the hallways, Shinobu made use of the courtyard in order to more discreetly discern Giyuu's location.

After extrapolating some information about the building's layout from Akihiro's statements and through trial-and-error, Shinobu was finally able to locate Giyuu's position.

*Slide*

Shinobu opens the shoji screen door, only to find Giyuu lying at the circumcenter of the room—sleeping and at peace.

She gazed at him with an inscrutable face.

It has been too long. Too long since she was last looking at him face-to-face.

Just his very presence is enough to bring consolation to herself.

Then, she promptly walks over to the Water Hashira and sits down right next to his futon.

She stares at him.

All this time, she acted flustered or tried to reject her innate feelings whenever she and this man found themselves in socially awkward situations.

She simply didn't want to become attached. Not when she had plans for the near future.

She's afraid that she might doubt herself and her resolve if she permits such developments.

But it's already too late. She's already doubting her resolve and she's already irreversibly attached to him—especially after everything they went through together in the mission.

She lies down on her side and carefully watches Giyuu.

She extended her arm and lightly nuzzled her hand against his cheek—the same way Giyuu did to her. Her heat skips a beat.

She smiles and blushes.

"You will only notice how truly important something or someone is after they've passed."

Giyuu gave his final breath as she held him in her arms.

That traumatic experience was more than enough to solidify a new sense of determination within her heart, one that aimed to prevent Giyuu from falling into despair as he's destined to do so.

"Cherish every moment, so that you won't have to do so when it's too late."

Cherish every moment...

..

..

"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...

..

..

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

"O-oh, sorry about tha—" she replied.

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

..

..

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

..

..

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

..

..

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

..

..

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

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

..

..

She had always kept those recollections at heart. She never forgot about them because they were special to her.

Shinobu wanted to have more of those special moments; she wanted to make more of the good, placating memories.

A part of her didn't want to be consumed by hatred any longer. Instead, she wanted to forge ahead into the future, but with someone on her side now.

"So, I urge you: take action now, so that you won't regret it later. Because, that way, you can live a gratifying and fulfilling life to its fullest with no shred of doubt in mind."

Live a life without regrets...

That sounds nice.

She knows what regret feels like, how it gnaws away at your senses and self-esteem.

A life full of that is no life at all, it's a prison.

She has a chance to avert that.

And maybe that chance is transpiring here and now.

If so, then everything depends on her. Whether she will acknowledge it nor not, it's ultimately her choice.

A choice that will portend their prospects.

Whether one perishes and the other slowly decays, or one lives and the other is given meaning.

A realization hits.

Maybe that's how he found out... she wonders.

It's difficult to describe the feelings to which one can prescribe to her. The use of innuendo, convoluted, and other archaic words wouldn't be enough to emphasize the degree to which she came to that realization.

Like the Buddha when he achieved enlightenment, only the innermost thoughts and emotions can paint the full picture.

But, alas, such would stipulate an extensive analysis beyond reasoning.

Even so, there are common characteristics that can elaborate upon the foundations of this feeling.

The rapid pace of the beating heart, the formation of sweat glands, the incremental increase in the rate of breathing, and the sentiments that enrapture and bewitch one into a spell—the incantation of a common, yet intricate language.

It's all there.

She already understood it.

For, she had come to that revelation—an occurrence that seldom happens.

The visceral understanding of what the confines of her heart desired.

Within the purlieu of such an alluring and environed setting, the enthralling and scintillating luster of the moonlight that engulfed the entirety of the courtyard and its adjacent rooms to the illuminating glare that was shining brilliantly upon the Hashiras.

She leaned closer to his ear until her lips were practically only barely touching them.

With her cheeks as red as blood, her mind spinning faster than a carousel, she whispered something scarcely audible, but no less than coherent words nonetheless.

She was candid about her true feelings, she wasn't going to dismiss it this time. She didn't want to regret things anymore.

"I love you, Tomioka Giyuu."