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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A large crowd of people had congregated near the pier.

The sheer amount of people was almost disorientating; seldom could an individual even visually detect the port in the first place due to the aforementioned horde occluding their line of sight.

The incessant chatter and jabbering also prevented one from conversing with their neighbor at a standard volume.

Nevertheless, despite these inconveniences, there was a feeling of elation and excitement in the air.

For, soldiers and sailors previously deemed "Missing in Action (MIA)" from the relatively recent conflict against China were returning home.

And for a particular Tomioka family of two—Tsutako and Giyuu—they were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their father, a naval officer who had yet to return home four years later.

The younger brother's emotions were purely born out of curiosity as to what his acclaimed father was like, as he had neither seen nor ever met this esteemed man.

The elder sister, however, was awashed with a whirlwind of sentiments: she was excited, deathly nervous, and relieved all at once.

Finally, after years of waiting, her dear Papa was coming back home.

Tsutako, whose palm was gently gripping a four-year-old Giyuu's hand, was inching left and right whilst she raised her head at different angles—searching for her father.

"Is Papa going to be here?" a young Giyuu asked innocently.

Tsutako then looked down to her brother, "One hundred percent, he'll definitely be here!"

In spite of her purported optimism, Tsutako—deep inside—was afraid that it might all be for naught; her father might not show up. After all, not all MIA troops are guaranteed to be alive, much less return home safe and sound.

But she could not afford to lose hope. She had been waiting for so long, longer than one could possibly endure under similar circumstances.

Waiting for her family to be reunited, even if only partially.

She continued perusing the crowd, hoping to find the face of the man she always looked up to, always spoke highly of, and always loved.

But, alas, she had no luck.

The passage of time was ever so slowly in these critical moments, yet nearly an hour had gone by and she still hadn't found what she was looking for.

That glimmer of hope resting within the confines of her soul, the pool of reassurance she had relied on so much over the years against the trials and tribulations of tragedy and responsibilities, was beginning to evaporate.

She felt distressed and helpless—the same combination of feelings she had experienced when her mother died.

Tsutako felt sick to her stomach.

She wanted to give up, to let go of everything and be carried by the wind—meander aimlessly through the twilight years of her cruel time on this Earth.

However, she is thence reminded of her purpose—her reason for remaining steadfast against the current of despair.

"Nee-san, I'm hungry..." the four-year-old Giyuu complains, having to stand motionless by her sister for nearly an hour—something that a young boy would likely not find enticing.

Tsutako looked down upon her little brother once more, breaking out of her trance.

That's right, Giyuu is still here. She can't just give up right now. At the end of the day, she's doing all of this for Giyuu; she wants to ensure that he lives a happy life with a promising future.

After all, her father did entrust him to her. She had a familial duty to uphold, both as a daughter and an elder sister.

Tsutako sighed, maybe she'll find her father next time. She doesn't have to be discouraged right now—more soldiers will return over time anyway.

"Alright, Giyuu, let's get something to eat," she smiled, letting her personal aspirations and expectations become secondary to the welfare of her baby brother.

"Yay!" little Giyuu celebrated, finally being granted official permission to vacate this mind-numbingly boring place.

Holding onto her brother's hand firmly, Tsutako turned around and began to depart from the vicinity.

However, just as the siblings were about to undertake this maneuver, they happened to be spotted by a certain someone.

"Ts-Tsutako?" a gruff, heavy voice croaked.

Tsutako, taking notice of this, hurriedly turned around.

It was then that she met this tall, disheveled old man donned with a large beard. The man's hair color was primarily black, but there were hues of white strands spread intermittently on his face and head—something indicative of either his age or the witnessing of certain things not meant to be seen.

Tsutako didn't recognize either the voice or the image, taken aback by the informality of the manner in which this seemingly obscure man addressed her.

"I'm sorry... Do I know you?" she asked politely, unsure of what to make of this situation.

"Tsutako... it's me," the man answered.

Her eyes widened.

Though not obvious at first, Tsutako was able to distinguish the innate physical and tonal characteristics of this man upon closer observation.

This man was her father.

"P-Papa," tears swelled from the corner of Tsutako's eyes.

"Yes... Tsutako..." he answered.

Despite the drastic change in appearance and demeanor, Tsutako still felt the sweet release of pleasure and happiness of meeting her father again—meeting the same man she bid farewell to all those years ago.

She quickly embraced her father and wept, "Papa!!"

"I'm... home..." he replied weakly, his face not changing one bit—superficially, he seemed unfazed by this reunion with his daughter.

"Papa... Oh, Papa..." Tsutako whimpered as she continued shedding tears, relieved beyond words at this fortuitous encounter.

Tomioka Isao, their father, then carefully raised his right hand and softly patted Tsutako on the back. However, he almost seemed reluctant or uncomfortable in doing so—as if he's begrudgingly greeting someone he would rather not see.

Even if he's interacting with his daughter for the first time in nearly four years.

Little Giyuu, meanwhile, was puzzled at the sight of his sister crying over this stranger—much less a scary-looking one.

Isao then glanced at the four-year-old boy. He almost recoiled at the sight.

He stared in disbelief at this boy.

"Is... is this...?" he pointed at Giyuu as his voice and hand both quivered.

Tsutako, wiping the tears from her eyes, took a moment to observe what exactly her father was directing his finger at.

"Papa, this is Giyuu," she smiled wholeheartedly, exuding a large degree of enthusiasm and warmth.

Father and son had finally united—a cause for celebration in Tsutako's eyes.

But for Isao, he could not evoke any form of delight at the thought of meeting his son for the first time.

Instead, he gawked at the little boy with an inscrutable countenance, unable or unwilling to express any hint of emotion at the image.

"This is the one Tsukiko birthed before her death..." he stated blankly.

Tsutako frowned at the mention of her late mother, "Yes... Mama entrusted him to me, just as you did..."

Little Giyuu, seeing the subtle glare from his supposed father, proceeds to hide behind Tsutako, "Nee-san... Who is this?"

"He's your Papa, Giyuu," Tsutako, kneeling down to her brother's height, replies.

"He is?"

"No," Isao abruptly declares.

"Huh?" Tsutako, perplexed by this abrupt statement, looks up to her father.

The lineaments on Isao's face tighten, his brows furrow, and he clenches his teeth in rage. His facial expression conveys rage and disgust of the highest order.

"This is no son of mine."

..

..

..

..

..

..

Giyuu

It was pitch black, like an infinite chasm of nothingness.

My senses were completely nullified; I couldn't see a single thing, hear a single reverberation, or feel the touch of a surface.

Instead, I am merely drifting through this chasm—through the emptiness of this hollowed space.

I don't know for how long I've been sitting on my knees, but the images are still burned into my memories.

The tears, the unadulterated sorrow, and the dejection I have witnessed.

The doleful expressions etched onto the countenance of my sister and Kocho.

All because of me.

I am the reason for their suffering, their grief.

My agony pales in comparison to the anguish I have wrought upon them; I have no right to lament over my burdens when I have incurred upon others far worse.

I don't deserve the love and kindness of anyone...

"Indeed, you don't," a raspy voice calls out from the infinite blackness.

I caught a glimpse of a figure to my right.

My head aches at the memories of this particular individual.

"What do you want..." I say lifelessly, my essence devoid of any ounce of vitality or drive.

"I can't say hello to my own son?"

"You've already disowned me—I'm not your son," I rebuke.

"Then what would that make me?"

"A stranger, a drunken fool, a humiliating father..." I list off, not taking much interest in the conversation.

"Haha!" he chuckled. "And you wonder why you're so fucked up in the head!"

I merely glowered at the man, not caring to respond.

"Why be mad at me? I didn't cause your pain: I didn't run away like a coward as Tsutako's insides were being consumed by a demon, I didn't break my oath to Eito-san and Sabito, I didn't let Makomo and Sabito die due to my incompetence, and I am not the reason Kocho Shinobu will kill herself in a vain attempt to destroy an Upper Moon demon," a scowl manifests itself on his creased face.

He adds, "All of that, my dear son, is YOU. You are the reason; you are the reason why the people you care about the most die—one by one. Your incompetence, foolishness, and blindness are the cause of it all."

I know that...

I know all that... I've blamed myself for everything, and I am rightfully to be blamed for it all...

"But that doesn't atone for anything, does it now?"

It doesn't...

"You say you blame yourself, yet you live with no sense of obligation: you acknowledge that Sabito deserved to be a Hashira, yet you accepted the rank of the Water Hashira; you know that Tsutako was carrying all these burdens, yet you were willing to pronounce your hatred of her; you know you've broken promises—from promising to protect Tsutako for Eito-san or promising to protect Makomo for Sabito—yet you uphold yourself to a meaningless oath to protect others from demons."

I know...

"Are you doing it just because you feel guilty about the past? Is this your way of making up for all of your sins?" he mockingly queries.

It's my duty.

"Your duty, huh? The same duty that prevented you from protecting Kamado Tanjiro and Nezuko's family? The same duty that hasn't made a difference in the grand scheme of things? Your sense of duty is worthless!"

I can't protect everyone...

"Then why bother, you pathetic fool! You're just going to repeat the same mistakes like you always do! You've even done it with Kocho-san, lashing out at her for something you didn't even try to understand."

What I did to Kocho was unforgivable, and I'm not going to pretend it was something beyond my control—I alone am responsible for my actions.

"You like to indulge yourself in self-pity and shallow repentance, but nothing of use comes out of it."

The vitriol and rancor in his cadence reaches a high, "You're just a weak, little boy not willing to accept the fact that your very existence has caused untold pain and suffering. You've brought nothing good to this world, and your untimely death would've made things better."

My body feels terribly weak to the bone and the aching sensation in my head grows evermore.

I want to hide from it all.

To hide from the pain, the cries, the blood, the tears, and the grief.

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

I wish I could stay like this forever, ignorant of everything that is going on outside—unaware of the painful truths awaiting me.

I have always felt responsible for the sins of my past, and always felt guilty about what I've done.

But lurking underneath this surface is a more sinister revelation: giving up on living.

I had vowed to not let such notions disrupt my thoughts—otherwise, I might forsake everything I've committed to uphold.

It's not the first time the pernicious grasp of those thoughts nearly choked the life out of me. If not for my fateful encounter with Kocho Shinobu on that particular night in the forest, I wouldn't be walking on this Earth as I speak.

As a demon slayer, as a Hashira, I cannot let my mind fall prey to those conceptions, otherwise, I will have failed to preserve my obligations as a member of the Corps.

And if I fail there, then that means more innocent lives falling prey to demons. It means lives are at stake.

BASH

I felt a sudden rush of tormenting pain pushing against my back. It was strong enough to thrust me downwards.

"Ach!" I fell face-down, landing prostrated on the ground.

"Listen to me, you little shit!!" he furiously yelled while kicking me.

Go away...

Once again, I cover my ears and close my eyes.

BASH

He kicks me again.

"You are worthless! Weak! Pathetic! Your very EXISTENCE has no value! No meaning!"

I reinforce the grip on my ears, not wanting to hear anymore.

BASH

Another kick.

"If you had died instead of Tsukiko, your mother, then Tsutako would be alive today! She would've had a complete family! A good life!"

That's not true...

"I wouldn't have been so fucked up! I wouldn't have to return knowing that my wife's life was traded for that of a disgraceful son!"

No...

BASH

Another kick

"If you had died, then Sabito and Makomo would be alive today! They wouldn't have been slaughtered because of your incompetence!"

Even as I press hard against my ears, I can hear his voice echoing in my head. The reverberations are unceasing to the point where they are ringing loudly in my head, inducing a throbbing sensation that is constantly stabbing my cerebral functions.

I can't keep the sounds out; they're invading my mind, tearing my sanity apart, imbuing poison into my thoughts, and gnawing away my consciousness.

BASH

Another kick.

"If you had only just DIED, then everyone you failed to protect would be ALIVE today!"

BASH

Another kick.

"Your life is built on the corpses of your friends and family! Don't you fucking dare forget about that!"

BASH

Another kick.

I feel the blood slowly dripping down.

"You have nothing to protect! You are weak! You're no Hashira, you're just a fraud masquerading as one!"

BASH

Another kick.

"You were always useless. You couldn't save anyone, and you certainly won't be able to save your beloved Kocho-san."

As I lie bloodied and bruised, I could feel my spirit wither away—the vestiges of my resolve and purpose being totally destroyed.

It was all a lost cause.

If I try again, I'll fail like always.

Besides, I don't deserve to live anyway. What right do I have to ask of others to live on?

What right did I have to be angry at Kocho?

What right did I have to demand honesty from her?

It all doesn't matter anyway.

I can't save her, no matter how hard I try. I won't be able to in the first place.

And yet, as the blood trickled down and coagulated, I wanted to escape the pain.

I still wanted to resist, to fight on.

It was a plea for help. A cry for mercy. Begging for my spirit to be pulled out of this crepuscular setting.

To be pulled out of the darkness of my own soul.

My soul felt hollowed, plunging my spirit into further decay and rotting the very essence of my being.

Just die already.

..

..

..

..

..

..

WHOOSH

Shinobu made a full dash toward the enemy, gaining greater momentum by the second.

'Butterfly Dance: Caprice,' Shinobu gave the incantation as she leaped into the air and summoned the apparitional kaleidoscope of butterflies.

"Fool," Kanashimi raised her right hand with the palm facing upward, then she promptly and swiftly turned the palm facing downward and swung the entire arm concurrently in the same direction.

Shinobu subsequently experienced a massive gravitational force that aggressively pulled her entire body mass downward.

CRASH

"Ach!" Shinobu crashed onto the ground.

The landing was not pleasant at all, given how the Insect Hashira alighted on her side—there now existed the risk factor of damage to the rib cage.

"Blood Demon Art: Fountain of the Illusory," Kanashimi chants, conjuring up her demonic powers once more.

The environment, much like before, had begun to transform at the utterance of Kanashimi's commands.

"Let's take this somewhere... more appropriate," the Demon of Grief chose her words prudently.

What was hitherto a caliginous void bereft of little to any light source was now converted into a concrete structure replete with welded steel wires and other metallic beams acting as support.

They were back at the abandoned classroom, or, more generally speaking, 1960s Yokohama.

It was nighttime already, but the luminescence of a full moon made its presence known—reflecting the rays of sunlight in order to bring light into the dead of night.

Thus, moonlight glistened across the endless tenebrosity. But the distant glimmer of city life in the distance stood as a reminder of how human ingenuity has beaten the undisturbed darkness of the night sky—with or without the moon.

The instant the area had completed its transmutation, Shinobu was released from the accentuated gravitational pull she was subjected to in the void.

Well aware that she was in an extremely vulnerable position, the Insect Hashira was quick to uplift herself and assume a Hasso-no-Kamae stance.

She scanned her surroundings. Kanashimi was nowhere to be found.

'Wait, the shadows!' she quickly recognized.

SWOOSH

Kanashimi emerged from the floor, and, with the swing of her arm, something sharp nearly slashed Shinobu's very face.

However, Shinobu's reaction time proved to be fruitful in eluding this threat.

Whoosh

Shinobu forthwith backed away at an astonishing speed, all the while maintaining her battle stance and preventing Kanashimi from imposing a lethal injury upon her.

With Kanashimi essentially in front of her, Shinobu initiates another breathing form.

'Dance of the Dragonfly: Compound Eye Hexagon,' she sprang ahead, targeting the opponent's weak spots in order to complete this six-strike maneuver—with the purpose of injecting a large dosage of wisteria poison within each of the denoted weak points.

DASH

With increasing velocity, Shinobu reached her target in under a second, and she proceeded with the technique.

However, Kanashimi was gone within the blink of an eye—making it appear as if she wasn't there in the first place.

Nevertheless, Shinobu anticipated this—given her earlier engagement with the enemy—and was quick to make adjustments to her movements.

'Behind!' she surmised, swiftly turning the full 180 degrees.

And, sure enough, Kanashimi was there, about to launch an assault against Shinobu.

Shinobu raised her blade.

CLANG

Kanashimi's razor-sharp claws collided with the Nichirin Blade.

SKRRT

The disquieting noise of metallic scraping resonated throughout the expanse, neither the claws nor the blade were able to outdo the other in terms of material strength.

"You're a smart one," the demon comments.

'So its main weapon is its claws,' Shinobu mentally notes.

"But still foolish," Kanashimi added.

Shinobu felt a presence behind her. Something was about to attack her from the rear.

'Not good!' she was caught between a rock and a hard place. If she dared to move, then she would leave herself exposed to Kanashimi's frontal assailment. However, if she didn't do so, then she risks a more fatal assault from the back.

But Shinobu quickly improvised. She sensed that the focal point of the strike was going to be somewhere in the back of her head—after all, a blow there would mean instant death for her.

So, as the unknown 'thing' from behind was about to make contact, Shinobu tilted her head slightly to the left, narrowly evading the attack.

Then, with awesome speed and an impeccable response time, Shinobu activated the trigger for the knife hidden within the sole of her geta sandal—which was, of course, doused in Wisteria Poison.

Swoosh

She swung her foot backward, intending to impale the enemy while keeping an eye out for Kanashimi in front of her.

Jab

The small knife stabbed the enemy, infusing large amounts of poison into their system.

The course of these events all transpired in under five seconds. The Insect Hashira briskly avoided the two-prong attack.

Kanashimi immediately withdrew and sunk into the ground, becoming a 'pool' of shadow once again.

Witnessing this development, Shinobu instantly turned around to deal with the enemy behind her.

Upon doing so, though, she was stunned to find Kanashimi behind. Except, this Kanashimi was violently convulsing and reeling from the effects of the concoction, with purple bruises materializing throughout her body and blood oozing out of the surface of her skin.

"Arcch!!!" the demon squirmed.

'There wasn't much wisteria concentrated in the blade. Either this copy of Kanashimi is weak or I might be finding my winning formula...' Shinobu gains valuable insight from the scene before her.

Whoosh

The poisoned Kanashimi then dissolves into a pool of shadow, which promptly retreats from Shinobu's line of sight.

"Not bad," Kanashimi—the one not poisoned, Shinobu assumed—reveals herself. "But you will have to do better than that."

Suddenly, five 'puddles' of shadow rapidly shot out of Kanashimi's black-colored kimono, like bullets emerging from the barrel of a gun.

These puddles then situated themselves in a concentric circle around Shinobu, with a radius of about 6 feet (1.8 meters). Each of these puddles then formed identical silhouettes before taking up the form of Kanashimi herself.

There were six Demons of Grief encircling the Hashira.

'So it can clone itself,' Shinobu continues gathering intelligence.

Knowing full well that she was situated in a disadvantageous disposition, Shinobu devised an exit route for this situation.

"Dance of the Centipede: Hundred-Legged Zigzag,' Shinobu begins sprinting toward the 'original' Kanashimi—the one where all the other copies emanated from.

CRACK CRACK CRACK

Moving at blistering speed, each one of Shinobu's strides made toward the enemy was enough to cause noticeable damage to the concrete flooring—attesting to the degree to which Shinobu's speed was one of her greatest assets.

Shinobu raised the hilt of her blade, aiming for Kanashimi's neck.

Kanashimi, however, was just as fast.

Just inches before Shinobu's Nichirin Blade made contact with Kanashimi, the Demon of Grief disintegrated into a viscous shade of murk.

Thereafter, the other five Kanashimis converged on her—providing a strategically dangerous situation for the Insect Hashira.

Predicting this, Shinobu merely stomped on the floor; a very odd course of action given her predicament, but it ultimately paid off.

Thud

Crack Crack

Fissures appeared and multiplied in numbers along the floor.

BAM

The already-weak concrete foundations subsequently crumbled into hundreds of different pieces.

It appears Shinobu had anticipated the flooring to be weakened by the battle and her powerful treads.

And since shadows are merely projections of the outline of a physical object blocking rays of light, thus making them derivative of whatever surface the outline eschews light from, depriving the enemy of a tangible, stationary surface would do well in obstructing their motion.

Unfortunately for Shinobu, she was also to be affected by the absence of a 'ground' to stand on.

Thus, as the particulates and blocks of concrete abruptly fell onto the second floor—as the abandoned classroom was situated on the floor—Shinobu fell victim (get it?) to this general collapse.

However, making use of her haori, Shinobu was able to gracefully glide amid her descent—making for a dignified landing.

Almost like she's flying through the air like a butterfly.

As the front tip of her geta sandal lightly touched the second floor, Shinobu alighted herself gently onto the ground, with the haori quietly slumping downward since the strong air resistance pushing it upward was no longer present.

Nonetheless, the Insect Hashira remained alert of her surroundings, knowing all too well that a demon of this caliber isn't easily defeated.

Although, it didn't help that clouds of dust—the byproduct of the recent demolition—were impeding her vision, especially in the pitch darkness of this late hour.

WHOOSH

All of a sudden, six pools of shadows hastily approached Shinobu, and they solidified into sentient beings without a moment's hesitation—all of them assuming the form of Kanashimi's physical body.

Within two seconds, the first of the clones attacked Shinobu with their steel-like claws.

CLANG

Shinobu parried the blow by holding her sword vertically.

Then, as another approached her, she deftly dodged the attack and instead permitted the shadow to accidentally attack its comrade.

SPLASH

The shadows collided and dissipated into puddles once more.

The third and fourth copies arrived shortly after, each poised to launch a violent attack on Shinobu.

The Insect Hashira rebuffed their assault by kicking a wooden stool at the third shadow, which forced the shadow to delay the attack by temporarily reverting back to its puddle form again.

As for the fourth shadow, Shinobu swung her sword at the enemy, forcing it to also regress to its antecedent physical state as a way to avoid the strike.

Right when this occurred, the fifth and sixth shadows entered the fray.

What's more, the first and second demons—-which were momentarily put out of action due to the collision—had returned to exact revenge.

Seeing these developments, Shinobu opted to undertake a moderately high (for a Hashira) leap into the air—setting her body aloft relative to the enemies.

The fact that the roof was also missing—due to the third floor collapsing for that particular section of the school—proved to be highly convenient for the Insect Hashira's current endeavors.

Right as she jumped, Shinobu narrowly escaped a six-prong attack.

Yet, even in midair, Shinobu wasn't safe from another offensive maneuver.

All six shadows dropped down into puddles and made their way up the walls, intending to somehow reach Shinobu without having to detach themselves from the concrete surface.

'They can't leave the surface, whether that be the ground or the walls,' Shinobu astutely observes.

Shinobu's leap landed her on the ceiling of the third floor—the uppermost ceiling of the entire building—with the shadows speedily following behind her to that destination.

Before they could reach her, though, Shinobu propelled herself downward.

Except, this time, she hurled herself off the ceiling with all the power her muscle strength could muster—producing a stupid amount of accelerating motion toward the ground.

BOOM

The sheer strength of her ejection from the ceiling ruptured the rooftop, leaving a large, conical indent onto the previously impermeable concrete ceiling.

'Dance of the Bee Sting: True Flutter.'

Within a second, a testament to her insane speed back down to the second floor, Shinobu's blade assails an unsuspecting Kanashimi hiding in the darkness.

JAB

With one powerful blow, Shinobu employs a single thrust against the demon's neck and administers large doses of wisteria poison.

BOOM

The impact was so fierce that the entire second floor collapsed as well. In fact, it was nearly strong enough to nearly sever Kanashimi's head as well.

"ARRRGH!!!" Kanashimi yelped in pain as she incurred both the potency of the wisteria concoction and the sheer, raw power of the Nichirin blade's penetration.

BAM

The two eventually landed on the first floor, with Kanashimi having to experience the additional pain of the irregular landing.

Kanashimi lay in a supinated position, and Shinobu stood atop its stomach with her blade still carved into the demon's neck.

"What's wrong? Too scared to fight? Letting your clones do the killing instead?" Shinobu mocked, clearly relishing the image of a beleaguered Kanashimi.

The Demon of Grief was unable to respond due to the blade piercing her esophagus. Furthermore, blood was leaking out of her orifices and dark contusions enveloped her body, all symptoms of the concoction.

Indeed, the original body had been hiding in the shadows whilst her copies were engaging Shinobu.

Thankfully, the Insect Hashira's sharp senses in the midst of battle were quick to discern Kanashimi's location—and, therefore, allow her to draw up an impromptu plan to deal with the threat.

WOOSH

The six shadows swiftly traveled down the walls to come to their creator's aid.

Shinobu released the blade from Kanashimi's neck, as she presumed that the poison would do its job in due time, and readied herself for the oncoming confrontation against the clones.

As the puddles morphed into clones of Kanashimi, they rushed to skewer the Insect Hashira.

Correspondingly, Shinobu bolted forward, taking the initiative as well.

The first, second, and third shadows all made a lunge at her with their claws.

For a normal slayer, it would've been an insurmountable task to somehow evade and counter three attacks all at once—all the while maintaining a proper stance in order to parry more assaults from even more demons.

But, alas, Shinobu was the Insect Hashira. And Hashiras are almost like creatures of their own.

CLANG

Using her blade, Shinobu redirected the motion of the first shadow's claws toward the second shadow.

SLASH

This action managed to effectively maim the second clone.

"ARGH!" The second Kanashimi dissolved into a puddle of shadow and promptly returned to her progenitor's black kimono.

Concurrently, Shinobu initiates a somersault to her anterior as a means to dodge the third demon's assault.

With this maneuver, however, she situates herself closer to the other three assailants. Nevertheless, the Insect Hashira hastily altered her disposition into a more battle-ready posture.

She then briskly swings her katana horizontally to parry the fourth and fifth shadows' pummel.

CLANG CLANG

Both pairs of claws clash against the steel blade.

The friction between the materials is so great that it inadvertently creates a series of lustrous sparkles. These sparks from the metallic impact incandescently coruscate the room—bringing a semblance of light into the dim space.

However, the first, third, and sixth shadows all closed in on her. Plus, she had two more in front of her.

Shinobu shifts her feet slightly to purposefully allow the fourth and fifth shadows to follow through with their attack, something neither of them would be expecting given the aforementioned deadlock with the Nichirin Blade.

*Slip*

This causes both demons—both of whom concentrated too much tension onto the blade—to slide forward and lose their balance, forcing them to assume the incapacitated form of the pools of shadow again.

'Dance of the Dragonfly: Compound Eye Hexagon,' Shinobu begins this six-strike maneuver.

One.

WHOOSH

She deftly eludes an attack by the first clone as it swung its arm.

With the arm now situated in front of her, she moves her blade along a curved path that lacerates it deeply, poisoning the demon.

SLASH

"ARHH!!" The clone disintegrates into a pool and returns to its original body.

Two.

Around this time, by following through with the sword's curved movement that eliminated the first clone, Shinobu is able to simultaneously parry the third and sixth shadows.

CLANG CLANG

Sparks erupt again.

With unimaginable speed, Shinobu skillfully flanks the enemies by readjusting her battle stance—thereby allowing herself to be positioned near the demons' exposed spots.

She then extricates her blade from engaging the claws, allowing her to move it freely in accordance with a stance that leaves her enemies vulnerable within a disadvantageous orientation.

She swings it vertically upward against the third shadow's stomach.

SLASH

With each strike carrying a very concentrated dosage of poison, the enemy is quick to capitulate.

"ARRH!!" The third Kanashimi dissolves as well.

Three.

The remaining shadows—four, five, and six—all simultaneously charge at her.

As if it were an intricate dance, Shinobu gracefully deflects, parries, and counters each one of the strikes—her agility and skill with the blade on full display.

Since Shinobu couldn't rely on her physical prowess alone, she had to fight with her mind. From utilizing her environment to exploiting her enemy's jagged movements, she proved to be resourceful when it came to compensating for her shortcomings as a demon slayer.

It was an impressive display of Shinobu's nimble movements and adroit swordsmanship.

CLANG

WHOOSH

SLASH

Four.

CLANG

WHOOSH

SLASH

Five.

CLANG CLANG

SLASH

Counter. Parry. Attack.

Parry. Dodge. Attack.

Repeat.

With each successive combination of moves, the Insect Hashira appears to be blurred to the naked eye; she's so fast and reactive that the average human couldn't possibly follow her motion with precision.

This whole sequence, from when the confrontation on the first floor began to now, lasted a good half a minute.

Six.

She leaps back to the original Kanashimi and stabs her once more, just to ensure that there is enough poison.

JAB

Kanashimi was vomiting blood, her dying physique appeared all contorted and enfeeble

The battle was as good as over.

"Any last words?" Shinobu awaited the poison to fully decimate this demon's soma.

"Oh dear, that's right! You can't speak because I gouged out your esophagus! My apologies, but it appears you won't be able to say farewells," Shinobu gave a half-hearted, contemptuous small talk, taunting her enemy further.

"Haha..." Kanashimi chuckled, choking on her own blood.

"What appears to be amusing, demon," Shinobu, returning back to her scornful self, derided.

'Blood Demon Art: Oblivion.'

Even if Kanashimi internally chanted the ancient runes, Shinobu could hear it as if by design.

'What? Is it casting spells?' She was left perplexed, unable to conceive a reason for this course of action.

The setting began to change...

..

..

"You are strong, there's no doubt about it."

It was the black void of nothingness again, except Kanashimi appeared to be completely unscathed.

As if the entire sequence of events never occurred in the first.

'What the hell? How did she heal? What happened to the poison?' Shinobu was utterly dumbfounded by this sudden change.

Instinctually, Shinobu promptly raised her blade.

"Kneel," Kanashimi commanded.

And, like numerous times beforehand, Shinobu's entire musculature was forced onto the ground by a strong gravitational pull.

*CRASH*

'Shoot! I wasn't fast enough!' she fell for the spell once again.

"Wondering why I'm not affected by the poison at all?"

'I need to somehow escape this position, otherwise she might attack me right here—-... wait, why hasn't she yet? In fact, why didn't she in all those other times? Why did she make us leave the dark void before fighting me?' Shinobu was coming to a revelation.

"Let's play a little game, Insect Hashira. I acknowledge your power and abilities, so I will grant you the privilege of knowing the rules of this game."

'Is there something about being in the void that prevents her from fighting me? And also heals her beyond a reasonable doubt?'

"First, neither of us is able to harm the other in this void, meaning we can only fight in the illusions I create by will. HOWEVER, my wounds heal easily when I return to this empty dimension while yours won't..."

'Meaning—' Shinobu was beginning to understand the gravity—or, rather, the difficulty—of the situation.

"Meaning that I can reset our duels as many times as I please. But, while I can replenish each time, you'll be stuck with that good-for-nothing mortal body that is unable to regenerate."

'A battle of attrition, except wildly in the enemy's favor...' the Insect Hashira concludes.

"Still regretting that brainless decision to not accept my offer for immortality?" Kanashimi smirked.

Shinobu shot a glare back, "Not at all."

Nevertheless, she felt uneasy with this information.

'This is going to last longer than expected... Giyuu, I'm sorry, please hang on a bit longer...'

She prayed that the Water Hashira was working under better circumstances.

Otherwise, she might be too late.