Chapter Text
"Muichirou, there’s nothing here. Looks like we can head home," came the cheerful voice of a man with flame-colored hair
"Yeah," the boy replied shortly.
The two approached a parked car in front of a tall building and got inside. The spring landscape outside was bathed in the soft pink hues of sunset — sakura petals slowly drifted down, tinted by the sun's fading light.
"And yet," the fire-haired man spoke again, staring out the window, "what was that strange flash Iguro detected? It was so bright, powerful… and disappeared in an instant. I wonder if it’ll return."
Muichirou remained silent, his gaze fixed on the vanishing light. His face stayed calm, almost distant.
"We need to report to headquarters, then we’re free. You hungry?" the man asked as he started the engine.
The young man with long black hair tipped with turquoise and ocean-colored eyes glanced indifferently at his ever-optimistic companion and gave a small nod. The driver beamed with joy.
"Great! After HQ — let’s go to my place. Senjuro made sukiyaki. He’s been wanting to talk to you about university, by the way. I really hope he finds something he loves to do!"
"Alright," Muichirou responded briefly. "Let’s go, Rengoku-san."
Rengoku Kyoujurou laughed and pulled out of the lot."Good thing it’s evening — the roads are clear. Still weird that they built HQ in the middle of Tokyo. What do you think, Muichirou?""I haven’t thought about it," came the indifferent reply.
"Hah, should’ve known better than to ask you something like that," Kyoujurou chuckled and immediately switched topics: "Did I ever tell you about—"
Muichirou only half-listened. Kyoujurou’s voice was vivid, loud, impulsive — like fire. From mission stories to food spots, from his brother to random thoughts, the ride passed quickly.
"We’re here," Kyoujurou said brightly. "Time to report. Then — food. Ugh, I’m starving!"
"You’re right, let’s hurry. I hate reports," Muichirou muttered, stepping out of the car.
The organization’s headquarters resembled a private college in classical Japanese style — spacious buildings with tiled roofs, surrounded by carefully trimmed gardens and gravel paths. Wisteria branches reached skyward, their heavy flower clusters not yet in bloom. The atmosphere was both strict and tranquil — as if time itself slowed down here.
At the entrance, they were greeted by hunters in standard black uniforms with high collars — a contrast to the more personalized outfits of Muichirou and Kyoujurou.
Muichirou preferred loose-fitting clothes, slightly oversized. Today, his long hair was down, giving him a lighter, freer look.
Kyoujurou, on the other hand, was always put-together. His uniform fit perfectly, and on casual days, he favored button-downs or long-sleeves. His hair was tied in a neat bun, and a bright smile almost never left his face.
"Welcome, Rengoku-dono, Tokitou-dono!" the hunters said in unison, bowing.
"Good evening!" Kyoujurou waved cheerfully. Muichirou nodded.
"Iguro-dono is expecting you in his office."
"Perfect. At ease, guys. Let’s go, Muichirou?"
"Yeah."
Kyoujurou knocked on the door, then opened it without waiting for a reply.
"Iguro! Good evening!"
The office was buried in paperwork. Behind the desk sat a man with bandages on his face and a high collar — Obanai Iguro, the Serpent Hashira. He was in charge of assignments and missions, and one of the most organized members of the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Rengoku, Tokitou. Any news?"
"Absolutely none," Kyoujurou said crisply. "No signs, no anomalies. We didn’t even sense anything. That’s what struck me as odd — considering how strong that flash was. Usually, anomalies leave some trace. But this time, nothing."
Iguro tapped his fingers on the desk, gazing at them thoughtfully.
"Strange. I expected you two to find something…" He shifted his gaze to Muichirou. "Especially you… our genius who senses demons better than they sense themselves."
His words carried a cold, cautious undertone. But Muichirou remained unfazed.
Kyoujurou, sensing the tension, stepped in quickly.
"In any case, we checked thoroughly. If anything shows up, we’ll report back right away. For now, we’ve got one more thing. Muichirou, you need to pick up your sword, right?"
"Yeah. It was delivered this morning from the Nagano's forge."
"Perfect. Let’s not bother Iguro in his workaholic bliss," Kyoujurou said, already heading for the door. "See you!"
"See you," Iguro muttered.
He was alone again. Sighing, he leaned back.
"Tch. Not even Tokitou sensed anything. We’ll have to keep watching. So much for a weekend off… I wanted to ask Mitsuri out. Looks like I’ll be stuck here again till midnight."
The Forge was located in a separate building on the headquarters’ grounds.
Everything around resembled an ancient samurai estate — austere architecture, silence, stone pathways.
“We’re here,” Kyoujurou said. “Muichirou, stop daydreaming. Go grab your sword — I bet Senjuro’s already waiting for us.”
Rengoku smiled warmly, and Muichirou nodded, disappearing behind a door that smelled of metal and smoke.
“Tetsuido-san, good evening,” he said as he stepped inside.
An elderly man stood by the anvil. He turned and smiled.
“Tokitou-kun. I’ve been expecting you. Came all the way from Nagano just to deliver this sword personally.”
He handed over a black katana with a geometric tsuba. Muichirou drew the blade and looked at the steel. His turquoise eyes reflected in the metal.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, bowing low.
“Take care of yourself, Tokitou-kun,” the old man replied warmly.
When Muichirou exited, Kyojuro was already chatting with a flustered blond-haired boy — Zenitsu Agatsuma.
“Rengoku-dono! I nearly died! That anomaly tried to eat me! Drain me dry!” Zenitsu panicked. “It was awful!”
“Agatsuma, you survived — that means you did just fine,” Kyojuro laughed and ruffled his hair.
“I don’t want to hunt anymore! I want a quiet life!”
Muichirou approached. Zenitsu immediately bowed.
“A-ah! Forgive me, Tokitou-dono! I’m just on edge! Gods, I don’t know how to live anymore, what to do! Dying seems easier — and I’ve never even had a girlfriend!” he rambled. “Oh, by the way, we go to the same university, right? Aren’t you also taking that exam soon? It’s a nightmare! I—”
“Stop yelling. You’re annoying,” Muichirou said coldly.
Kyoujurou burst out laughing at Muichirou’s blunt response — that kind of straightforward honesty always amused him.
“Alright, Agatsuma, we need to go. Good luck,” Kyoujurou said as they turned to leave.
“I don’t need luck! I’m looser!” Zenitsu yelled after them.
“Funny guy,” Kyoujurou chuckled, catching up to Muichirou. “I didn’t know you two go to the same university.”
“I’ve seen him a few times. He’s always shouting. I don’t like noise.”
“Well, you’ve got a point. Still, he’s one of Kuwajima-dono’s best students. Promising.”
“The old man made a mistake,” Muichirou muttered.
Kyoujurou laughed again and said, “Alright, shall we?”
The Rengoku home wasn’t far. Their family came from an ancient bloodline that had served the Demon Slyer Corps for generations.
“We’re home, Senjuro!”
On the doorstep appeared Kyoujurou’s younger brother — a perfect miniature version of him.
“Tokitou-san! Good evening! We’ve been waiting!”
They were also greeted by the head of the household —Shinjurou Rengoku, a man with a stern face and tired eyes.
“Good evening, Tokitou. Kyoujurou, how are you doing?”
“Great! Father, you look better. Are Kochou’s medicines helping?”
“Yes. It’s eased up.”
“Good evening,” Muichirou said briefly, calmly meeting Shinjurou’s gaze.
He did look tired — the illness had worn him down. Kyoujurou noticed the awkward pause and beamed.
“We’re starving! Senjuro, how’s that sukiyaki coming?”
“All ready. Let’s eat.”
Dinner turned out surprisingly delicious. Senjuro had cooked — and he clearly had talent for it.
“Senjuro, this is amazing!” Kyoujurou exclaimed, scarfing food down. “Father, you’re a lucky man.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shinjurou grumbled.
Muichirou ate in silence, but with clear appetite.
“By the way, Senjuro, didn’t you want to ask Muichirou about university?”
“Yeah! Tokitou-san, you’re studying art, right? Do you enjoy it?“
“Yes, I do. Last week I drew a hand.”
“How was it? Difficult?”
“No. You just move the pencil. That’s all.”
Kyoujurou burst out laughing.
“Well, modesty and eloquence really are your trademarks.”
Dinner continued in a warm, cozy atmosphere.
After dessert and tea, Muichirou stood up.
“Rengoku-san, I should go.”
“Come by anytime,” Kyoujurou replied. “You’re always welcome.”
The Tokyo night was calm.
Muichirou walked along the streets near Sin Nakano's metro station. Stars shimmered in the sky. The April air was warm and fresh.
He reached a two-story white house and stepped up to the door.
“I'm back,” he said softly as he unlocked it.
He took off his jacket, removed his shoes, and slowly entered his apartment.
It was spacious but almost ascetic — nothing excessive. A few things were scattered about in creative disarray. White walls, some simple light wooden furniture, a large bookshelf, a desk buried in papers, textbooks, folders, and sketchbooks. In the corner stood an easel with an unfinished painting.
Muichirou walked into the kitchen, poured himself some water, and stared out the window while sipping.
The city lived its own life — neon lights, distant voices from bars, the faint hum of trains, and subtle vibrations of that same energy he had always felt. Since childhood.
But tonight, something was different.
By the park, for just a moment, he’d felt… a faint tremor.
Barely perceptible — like a flash just outside his field of vision. Not demonic, not magical, not human. Something else.
"Was it just my imagination?" he wondered, realizing the sensation had vanished in exactly one second.
He frowned, set the glass in the sink, and walked quietly to his bedroom.
Then lay on his back on the bed and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, he had classes. Then patrol in his district. Then, perhaps, another call from HQ. Same routine for the past few years. But Muichirou didn’t dwell on it — he simply did what he was best at: protecting people from what shouldn’t exist in the real world.
From monsters. From evil.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 🌸
Chapter 2: When Silence Breaks
Chapter Text
Muichirou heard an unpleasant, high-pitched beeping through his sleep — like someone slicing through the air with a metal needle. He grimaced, reluctantly opened his eyes, and tried to figure out where the annoying noise was coming from. A moment later, he realized: it was his own alarm clock — the one he’d set the night before with a tortured expression.
He reached for his phone, swiped the screen, and finally silenced the sound. For a while, Muichirou just lay there on his back, holding the phone against his chest and staring out the window. The sky outside was beginning to brighten, painted in pale shades of blue and pink.
“Beautiful sky today...” he murmured with a sigh. “I hate getting up early.”
He lay still a little longer, eyes drifting aimlessly over the ceiling, then reluctantly sat up. The day promised warmth, so he pulled on a loose black T-shirt and simple dark trousers. As always, he tied his hair up in a high ponytail.
He didn’t need to wear his uniform — today was patrol, and formal attire wasn’t required. Besides, he found the uniform restrictive despite its loose cut. It always drew too much attention, and he hated that even more. As a Hashira, he could get away with bending the rules.
Once in the kitchen, Muichirou opened the fridge and, as expected, found only the glow of the light and a faint echo.
"Empty. I’ll have to grab something on the way. Do I have... a drawing class today?” he frowned, trying to recall. A moment later, he brushed the thought aside and headed out toward the nearest store.
At the register, he glanced at the time — only fifteen minutes until class, and the university was a solid twenty-minute walk. He was used to running late by now.
He sighed — and then, out of the corner of his eye, spotted a bus pulling up. Without thinking, he left his money on the counter, grabbed the bag, and dashed out, catching the door just before it closed.
He took a seat by the window — and that’s when he saw her. A girl, out of breath, had run toward the bus but missed it by seconds. She stood frozen on the curb, clearly flustered. Something about her held his gaze. There was an odd, almost intangible feeling. A few moments later, the bus turned a corner and she disappeared from view.
Ten minutes later, he arrived. To his professor’s surprise, he made it just in time.
“Good morning, Tokitou-san,” the elderly instructor greeted warmly. “Today we’ll continue working with the anatomical plaster models. Take any open easel.”
Muichirou gave a brief bow and took his place. The pencil moved smoothly across the paper — just like he had told Senjuro. The act of drawing was simple, calming, easing him into a familiar rhythm and sweeping away intrusive thoughts.
He didn’t even realize an hour had passed.
“Excellent work, Tokitou-san,” the professor said as he approached. “Class is over. You’re free to go.”
Muichirou slowly pulled out of his focused state and nodded, slightly dazed.
“R-right. Thank you. Goodbye.”
He stepped out into the hall — and someone crashed right into his back.
“Ow— I’m so sorry!” came a soft, pleasant voice.
Muichirou turned around. It was her — the girl from the bus stop. She rubbed her forehead, wincing slightly. A delicate frame, white long-sleeved shirt, denim skirt, heavy boots. Her long chestnut hair spilled over her shoulders, and her bright emerald eyes locked with his.
“Did I hit you too hard?” she asked, noticing something on the floor. “Oh—”
Muichirou’s sketchbook had fallen at her feet. She quickly bent down, picked it up, and held it out to him.
“Looks like it fell when I bumped into you… Sorry again!”
She smiled awkwardly. Muichirou took the sketchbook without a word, his gaze unwavering.
“It’s fine,” he said quietly.
“Good! Sorry again!”
She bowed politely and hurried down the corridor. Muichirou watched her go. Something twinged in his chest — the same strange feeling he’d had yesterday, staring out the window. Only now it was stronger.
"That energy again... I felt it last night too." He frowned.
“Tokitou-dono!” came a loud voice. “Tokitou-dono! You're noticed something? Demons? What wrong ?”
Muichirou turned. It was Zenitsu.
“Don’t bother me,” he replied curtly and began walking toward the source of the energy.
“H-hey! Are you sensing something? Should we evacuate the students?”
“Stop it, you're too loud. I’m just going.”
His icy tone silenced Zenitsu, who followed a step behind. But soon, the strange energy faded. Muichirou exhaled, disappointed.
Meanwhile, the girl who had bumped into Muichirou was hurrying to the admin office.
"So begins my first day… and I’m already late," she thought, stopping at the door.
“I'm so sorry for being late!” she said as she entered. “My name is Amida Toki. I’ve just transferred and brought the rest of my documents.”
The elderly lady behind the desk gave her a kind smile.
“It’s alright, Amida-san. I’ll take care of everything. You can head to class — don’t worry.”
Toki sighed in relief and bowed.
“Thank you so much!”
She left and made her way to the history classroom. Her thoughts were all over the place.
"I’m lucky they even accepted my transfer. Usually they cut them off before the term starts… And I already missed a month. I’ll need to catch up, ask for notes…"
Then she stopped short.
"My bag…! Where’s my bag?!"
“Oh come on!” she cried, nearly in tears.
Realizing she’d left it at the café, Toki hurried back. On the way, she once again locked eyes with Muichirou. His turquoise gaze bore into her. She felt suddenly uneasy. Grabbing her bag, she rushed off.
Muichirou, still in the café, sipped green tea and finished his breakfast.
"That energy again. And again next to her…"
By the time classes ended, he was on patrol. It was around four in the afternoon. The sun dipped low, painting the streets in soft gold and copper hues. Muichirou walked the nearby districts for over two hours — all quiet. And yet… something at the university still felt wrong.
He ordered the other hunters to continue without him and, using his status, returned to the building. Enshrouding himself in mist, he became invisible — a fog-like veil cloaking him from all sight.
"Something’s definitely hidden here," he thought, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
Toki had stayed inside longer than planned. When she tried to leave, she realized — the doors were locked.
“What the hell?! I can’t get out!” she shouted.
The hallways were empty, the lights slowly dimming. The space around her turned eerie, oppressive. She hugged herself — it was freezing. Unnaturally cold.
“This is… strange…” she whispered.
A deep fear gripped her. She sensed it — someone was there. Someone dangerous. Something not human.
The darkness thickened, like a living thing swallowing the corridor in shadows. The chill sank into her bones, her breath fogging in the icy air. Then from the gloom, a shape emerged — a demon.
Its body was made of smoky shadow, warped and ever-shifting like darkness given form. Its eyes glowed crimson with a fire that paralyzed and terrified.
The creature’s claws scraped the stone floor, making a sound like metal teeth grinding. It crept closer, each step ringing with ancient menace. The air stank of rot and ash — as if death itself walked beside it.
“Got you,” it hissed, voice like dead leaves rustling in the wind.
“W-what are you?!” she gasped, stumbling backward.
Toki staggered, panic overtaking her. Her heart pounded wildly, her breath came in choking gasps, and no scream would rise from her throat.
The demon smirked and slashed.
“Maybe you’re one of them... Let’s find out!”
His claws ripped through her shoulder. Blood spilled. On her skin, a dark mark bloomed — the shape of a spider lily.
The demon's eyes narrowed like a predator that had its sights set on the distance.
Toki was fading. Her ears rang, her mouth tasted of metal. She tried to crawl away, convinced this was the end. She just closed her eyes.
And then — silence.
A figure stood before her holding sword in hand. The demon lay decapitated. Blood soaked the floor. Muichirou stepped forward, eyes cold and unreadable.
“So it really was your energy…” he said quietly.
Toki looked at him one last time before everything went black.
Chapter 3: The Point of No Return
Notes:
Hey everyone! Thanks so much for reading my fic. I hope you like this new chapter!🌙
Chapter Text
Muichirou realized the girl had fully lost consciousness. On her bare, bloodied, and battered shoulder, a strange pattern was slowly fading — a flower that resembled a spider lily. The petals melted away one by one, leaving behind only a faint trace.
This was no ordinary wound. His gaze narrowed.
“Tokitou-dono!” The voices of the demon hunters cut through the darkness behind him. “Are you alright?!”
“Report to Oyakata-sama immediately. Tell him I found the source of the anomaly energy.”
Muichirou’s voice was sharp, yet quiet. He lifted the girl into his arms — so effortlessly, as if he wasn’t carrying a body, but the weight of fate itself.
“I’m heading to headquarters.”
“Yes, Tokitou-dono!”
He exited the university building, leaving behind the hunters as they erased the traces of battle. A black car waited for him in silence. A shadow of doubt flickered across his face, but it vanished the moment he shut the door.
“Drive,” he said.
Tension hung heavy in the air at headquarters: the Hashira had gathered for an emergency council — for the first time in a century, such a powerful burst of energy had been detected.
Muichirou stepped out of the vehicle and immediately came face to face with Kyojuro. The Flame Hashira rushed over, his eyes darting between Muichirou’s face and the motionless body in his arms.
“You’re hurt...? Who is she?”
The questions came rapidly, one after another.
Muichirou didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed on Toki, filled with a detached, almost cold expression — he already knew she was different. Not a human. Not a demon. Something else entirely.
“I’ll explain later,” he said shortly. “Prepare that room.”
Kyojurou instantly caught the gravity of the situation. He turned to the hunters behind him.
“Get the chamber ready!”
“At once!”
Muichirou walked deeper into the headquarters, the girl's fragile body still resting in his arms.
Ahead, a door inscribed with ancient seals slowly creaked open. The markings pulsed red — reacting to a foreign presence — then faded mysteriously, letting the door unlock and swing wide.
He gently placed the girl onto a chair. Hunters entered behind him, carrying additional seals.
“Bind her. Keep watch. I need to report in,” Muichirou said calmly. Without another word, he turned and left the room.
In the depths of the headquarters, behind massive doors, the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps was already waiting.
Muichirou stopped, bowed deeply until his forehead nearly touched the floor, and spoke in a low voice:
“Oyakata-sama, this is Muichirou Tokitou…”
Meanwhile…
Toki’s consciousness was slowly returning. Her head throbbed with pain, and the air in the room felt heavy—woven from dampness and cold.
When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the dim flicker of candlelight and chains tightly wrapped around her wrists. The metallic clink rang in her ears, and a chilling fear curled inside her.
“W-where am I?”
Silence answered.
“Someone…” she whispered, her voice barely breaking the stillness.
Despair welled up within her. Memories flickered: a hallway, the demon’s rasping breath, blood, cold… and then — that boy with eyes like turquoise ice, who’d appeared again and again throughout the day.
Suddenly—footsteps.
She pressed herself back into the chair.
The door creaked open. Muichirou entered.
“You're awake,” he said flatly, almost without emotion.
Toki met his deep, unreadable turquoise eyes and asked,
“Why am I tied up? Who are you? What’s going on?” Her voice trembled, but she kept speaking.
Muichirou stepped closer and removed the heavy chains, leaving only cuffs on her delicate wrists.
“You’re in no position to ask questions. Come with me. Oyakata-sama is waiting.”
She tried to stand, but her vision spun. A warm hand wrapped around her waist.
“Don’t cause trouble,” he said just as coldly. “Follow me.”
Toki didn’t ask anything else. She simply nodded, the air around her pressing in like ice. She followed him in silence.
They walked through corridors where the walls seemed alive. Seals on the doors glowed faintly, then faded as the room with chains closed behind them. It had been so easy to believe it was just a dream — but the air she breathed was real. Cold. Unwelcoming. Like this entire place.
Toki looked around and felt déjà vu. As if she’d been here before. She couldn’t explain it, but each step sent chills down her spine.
They reached a tall, elegant building. Somewhere in the distance, ravens cawed — sharp and guttural. She flinched.
Muichirou didn’t look back. He simply walked forward, as if leading her to a place from which there was no return. For a second, she felt as though someone else was walking behind them — silent, touching only shadows.
Toki clenched her fingers. She was afraid of the dark. It always seemed to hide something waiting to kill her, erase her completely. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Not now..." she whispered to herself.
“Don’t stop,” Muichirou’s voice sliced through the tension like a blade.
She kept walking, not even realizing her legs were shaking.
Inside — a hall lined with wood the color of raven’s wings. A warm glow came from the lamps, but it did not bring warmth.
Eight people sat in a semicircle, like judges. In the center, slightly elevated above the rest, sat a man with a pale, scarred face. His smile was almost kind, almost saintly — which only made it more terrifying.
“Thank you, Tokitou-kun,” he said, then turned to her with a gentle, almost affectionate tone. “Welcome, Amida-san. I imagine you have questions?”
Toki clutched her hands to her chest.
“Where am I…? What… have you done to me?”
“You’re in a safe place,” Kagaya answered calmly. “We haven’t harmed you — but we must know if you might harm us. Do you know who you are?”
Toki looked up.
“I… I’m a student. I don’t understand why I was restrained. What’s happening? Why are people after me?!”
“You’re no ordinary girl,” he said, and her heart skipped a beat.
“What do you mean…?”
“For several days now, we’ve detected a strange, incredibly powerful energy. It turns out, it’s coming from you, Amida-san. You bore a mark — a flower blooming on your shoulder. That makes you something unusual… perhaps an anomaly, a curse. And likely, the demons want you. Why, exactly, we don’t yet know. But this is more complicated than it seems. You see, demons are merciless. If they need you, anyone who stands in their way will die.”
She went pale.
“What...? An anomaly…? Needed? By demons? You’re… mistaken…”
Kagaya smiled gently, yet it felt like a blade beneath silk.
“We’re never mistaken.”
She shook her head, panicked.
“This is insane. I’m just—”
“I understand how hard this must be. But it’s the truth. And now you have a choice.” Kagaya leaned forward slightly. “Help us… or die.”
A lump rose in her throat.
She glanced from Kagaya to Muichirou. He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.
And suddenly—she understood. They had already decided everything for her.
Toki clenched her fists. Her eyes welled with tears, but she fought them back.
“F-fine,” she said. “I don’t want to die. And I don’t want anyone to suffer because of me.”
Kagaya smiled — this time, tinged with quiet sadness.
“Then, if any of you have something to say...” He looked each of the Hashira in the eyes.
Before she could take another breath, two warriors approached. Their expressions were stern, awaiting orders.
Behind them, the council was assembled.
A sharp voice rang out — Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Hashira whose eyes burned with fury.
“Oyakata-sama, she’s dangerous! The enemy will use her, and chaos will follow. Execution is the only answer!”
“We cannot destroy everything, Shinazugawa-kun,” said Shinobu Kochou softly, her smile gentle and calm.
Sanemi clicked his tongue, shooting her a glare.
“I want her to live,” said Kyojurou Rengoku, his voice steady and commanding. “Kochou is right — we can’t kill someone whose power is still a mystery.”
Gyoumei Himejima bowed his head in prayer, murmuring words of thanks.
“Life is sacred. We must preserve it,” he said solemnly.
Tengen Uzui laughed brightly, gave a thumbs-up, and grinned:
“I’m with them — let her live! Who knows, maybe she’ll change everything. Besides, killing a pretty girl like that? Very unflashy.”
"Execution is a necessity," Obanai persisted, his voice hard. "The threat is too great."
"I agree with Himejima-san," Mitsuri Kanroji said gently, her gaze softening as she looked at Toki with understanding. "We must give her a chance. We must preserve her life."
Giyuu Tomioka stood aside, silent, his eyes distant. He didn’t interfere, didn’t speak.
Kagaya raised his hand, and the murmurs in the room fell silent. His calm eyes gleamed with unshakable resolve.
"The decision is made. Amida-san will live. That is the council’s final judgment. No further objections."
A breath Toki didn’t know she’d been holding slipped from her lips. The tension lifted slightly — but the fear remained.
"What… will happen to my life now?" she asked in a hushed voice, unable to keep the tremor from her words.
"You will remain here. You’ll move into the headquarters and begin attending classes with the trainees," Kagaya said evenly. "You're free to continue your studies at the university, but Tokitou-kun will stay by your side at all times. Remember this, Amida-san: his blade never hesitates.
Fear coils in Toki’s chest. Just now, this man had assigned her both a warden and an executioner — in one person.
Muichirou bowed his head, his expression unchanged.
"I will do as you command, Oyakata-sama," he said quietly.
Two hunters stepped forward and fastened a thin silver bracelet around Toki’s wrist — etched with delicate, arcane markings.
This is a tracking artifact," Kagaya explained calmly. "Through it, Tokito-kun will always know where you are. Even if you end up in another realm, he will find you. This is for your protection. I trust you understand that."
Toki flinched slightly but didn’t resist.
"Now then," the leader announced, "this meeting is adjourned. You may return to your duties. Thank you, all of you."
Everyone but Toki bowed. Kagaya gave her a strange, unreadable smile before turning away and vanishing into the shadows. But she still felt it — a crawling dread that clung to him like a second skin. He was not merely tired. He was afraid. Deeply.
Toki stood frozen, convinced this was all still a nightmare. But when she pinched herself, the sting on her arm told her otherwise.
A voice broke through the stillness — warm, bright, and full of life.
"I'm glad you made it out alive. I'm Rengoku Kyojurou — it’s a pleasure to meet you!"
He smiled, the warmth of sunlight in his expression, and turned to Muichiro.
"Muichirou, let’s take Toki to her room, and after that, I’ll give you a ride home. Sound good?"
Muichirou gave a quiet nod.
"Let’s go," he said plainly.
Toki felt a chill crawl down her spine at the cold edge in his voice — so empty, so detached.
But she said nothing. She followed them. One step at a time, deeper into silence.
There was no turning back.
Chapter 4: No Way Back
Notes:
Hi guys! New chapter is up. Hope you enjoy it! ♥️
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Kyojurou stepped out of the main headquarters building and took a deep breath.
“Ahh, nothing like fresh air after a meeting!” he said with enthusiasm, then turned to Toki. Seeing her downcast expression, he smiled warmly. “Toki, everything will be all right, I promise. You need to get some proper rest after all you've been through.
"Hey, Muichirou...” — he glanced at the boy standing nearby — “...stop daydreaming! Let's walk her to the residential wing — she needs rest, urgently.”
Muichirou nodded, then turned to Toki. She felt his cold, piercing gaze — a stare that made her want to shrink away, disappear, hide from the world. She crossed her arms over her shoulders, as if trying to shield herself.
Kyojurou noticed her reaction and, still smiling, said gently.
“He’s a good guy. Just... not much of a talker. Always deep in thought. You don’t need to be afraid of him.”
Toki looked first at Kyojurou, then at Muichirou. The latter still watched her calmly — even indifferently. Kyojurou rolled his eyes.
“Muichirou, say something, at least.”
“I…” the boy looked at Toki again, but words didn’t come. Something held him back.
A strange, unpleasant feeling stirred in his heart. He remembered how just a few hours ago she was merely late for university — how she smiled as she handed him his sketchbook. Back then, she had no idea what awaited her that night. She had been just a normal girl — and suddenly, she had become a victim. A simple, innocent victim.
Still, he exhaled and said:
“I’ll stay close. There’s no point in running.”
Toki flinched. It was as if invisible cuffs had snapped around her wrists. Someone had assigned her a warden — and that warden had just told her he would always be near. And though she hadn’t planned to run, the feeling of freedom vanished.
“I don’t even know where I’d run to…” she thought bitterly.
Kyojurou laughed at Muichirou’s words. He was used to the boy’s odd way of speaking — Muichirou often said exactly what he thought, without filter or subtext.
“All right, everyone’s tired. Time to rest. Toki, may I call you Toki-chan?”
She nodded.
“Perfect! You need proper rest tonight, and tomorrow I’ll explain everything — about the headquarters and your role here. Naturally, he...”— the Flame Hashira pointed at Muichirou — “...will be with us.”
With his usual bright, warm smile, Kyojurou walked ahead.
Toki and Muichirou followed him.
Ten minutes later, they reached a long, single-story building in a traditional Japanese style. A small garden stretched in front, with blooming cherry blossoms. Toki loved flowers, and despite everything that had happened, the sight touched her.
“Well, here we are,” Kyojurou said, sliding open the shoji doors. “There are about twenty rooms. Only two girls are living here right now, so you can choose whichever one you like.”
Toki looked into the dark hallway.
“I don’t care where I stay,” she replied wearily.
“I noticed — you like flowers?” Kyojurou asked suddenly.
She looked at him in surprise.
“You were staring at the cherry blossoms, and your eyes lit up with joy for a moment.”
Toki nodded, feeling a little embarrassed… and warm inside.
“Then pick that one,” he pointed to the far corner. “It has a veranda facing the garden. You’ll see the sakura from there, along with other flowers.”
“Sounds nice,” she said quietly. “I’ll stay there.”
“Excellent! Muichirou, escort her. I’ll go start the car. Toki-chan, get some rest. See you tomorrow!”
He left, and the two of them remained alone in the corridor.
Muichirou took a step forward.
“Let’s go.”
She sighed heavily and followed him.
The room was, in fact, cozy. A sliding door opened onto a view of the garden where the cherry blossoms bloomed. Everything looked peaceful — as if what had happened was just a dream.
“I’ll come by tomorrow. Be ready,” Muichirou said, watching her.
“All right,” she replied, stepping into the room.
He lingered for a moment, watching her clutch her shoulder — as if trying to hide. Her emerald eyes were filled with sorrow. He knew she felt uncomfortable around him. He was used to it. People often kept their distance — despite his appearance, status, or skill. Few were truly close to him. Only the Rengoku family had become an exception.
He was about to leave… but stopped and said softly:
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight…” Toki answered, her voice quiet.
The room was dark. But it was quiet, and in its own way, peaceful.
She changed into a robe left in the closet — her clothes were torn and stained with blood. Her shoulder throbbed with pain, reminding her of the night’s events. She collapsed onto the futon, drained.
The cold air wrapped around her. Somewhere in the distance, a crow cried out. Her ears rang. The silence was oppressive. Every sound — a creak, a step, a rustle — filled her with fear.
She was afraid of the dark. Afraid to close her eyes.
“Where am I? Who am I now?”
She wrapped herself in the blanket, trying not to cry. The chill of the metal bracelet on her wrist felt like shackles. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
The dreams were painful: crimson eyes, blood, darkness. And at the end — pale turquoise eyes, glowing with quiet serenity. She reached out to them — and in that moment, light touched her.
She woke up.
“Is it morning already?”
Toki stood up and walked to the window. In the courtyard below, three boys were training. One had maroon hair and a scar, another was cheerful with messy black hair, and the third — with yellow hair — was nervously running away from the others. They were sparring with wooden swords.
She watched them, feeling like a stranger. That kind of life seemed so distant, so far removed from her own.
A knock at the door.
“Yes?” she asked, shrinking slightly.
“Your belongings arrived. I’ll leave them at the door.”
She peeked outside and saw boxes stacked neatly.
"They found them so quickly… as if everyone already knows about me. Good thing I hadn’t unpacked much after moving. Still, it’s unsettling to think someone’s been inside my home."
She changed clothes — straight-cut jeans, and a simple black long-sleeved shirt. She tied her hair into a low ponytail, leaving two strands to frame her face.
In the mirror, she saw a tired, pale version of herself.
“At least I’m alive. That’s something.”
Another knock.
She opened the door — Muichirou stood on the threshold.
“It’s time. Rengoku-san will arrive soon.”
“Y-yes,” she replied, a flicker of fear and hesitation in her voice. “I’m ready.”
He didn’t respond. He simply turned and began walking.
“Should I have greeted her properly?” the thought flickered through his mind. “Next time, maybe.”
They left the room. As they walked down the corridor, Toki noticed a girl with a black ponytail and violet eyes — wearing the hunters’ uniform. Her expression was blank, emotionless.
"She must be one of the residents here," Toki thought, slowing her pace.
“Come,” Muichirou said again.
Toki exhaled shakily and followed.
Near the entrance, Kyojurou was already waiting — this time dressed casually in a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
“Toki-chan! Good morning. Did you get some rest?”
“Good morning, Rengoku-san. Yes, I feel a little better.”
“Excellent! Let’s grab some breakfast. I haven’t eaten a thing since morning.” He turned to Muichirou. “And you probably haven’t either, huh? I know you — always skipping meals because you oversleep!” he laughed heartily.
Muichirou didn’t respond, only nodded. He was, of course, completely right.
The cafeteria was nearly empty — it was already eleven, and the students had finished breakfast.
Kyojurou sat across from Toki; Muichirou took the seat beside her. The flame Hashira noticed this — Muichirou usually sat apart.
“While we wait for food, let me give you the basics,” Kyojurou began. “Our organization has been hunting demons for centuries. We save people, eliminate monsters, and conceal their existence. As you’ve probably guessed, I — and this cloudy-headed dreamer here,” he glanced at Muichirou with amusement, who simply sighed, “we’re Hashira. The strongest warriors in the organization. The entire complex you’re in is our headquarters. The government prefers to call our activities ‘accidents,’ ‘collapses,’ or ‘fires.’ That’s why our base is disguised as an elite college for gifted students who attend regular classes.”
He noticed the flicker of unease on Toki’s face — she seemed confused.
“You see, the hunter’s talent tends to awaken early. We start training them here from the age of sixteen. Before that, most study in special prep facilities outside Tokyo — but more on that later. As of today, you’re also considered a student of sorts. You’ll take part in lessons when you can, and live here on site.”
Their breakfast arrived, to Kyojurou’s great delight.
“Thank you! Let’s eat!”
They began to eat — a warm meal of rice with omelet, miso soup, and grilled fish.
“Mmm, delicious! Now, where was I? Ah, yes — what you’ll be doing, Toki-chan.”
The hunter smiled at her — she was listening carefully, though eating slowly, as she still had little appetite.
“We’ll teach you the basics of self-defense and try to figure out what kind of power you possess. You’ll need to learn how to protect yourself, since, as we’ve learned, demons are after you. Muichirou will act as your...” , he paused, glancing up at the ceiling in thought, then at the boy beside her, “... your mentor? No, that’s too formal. Anyway, you’ll be going on missions with him pretty often.”
Muichirou looked at Toki.
“Just don’t get in the way.”
Kyojurou laughed.
“Don’t mind him. He’s got a difficult personality, but he’ll protect you from anything that threatens you, Toki-chan.”
Muichirou turned his gaze away. But inside — something stirred.
“And now,” Kyojurou smiled, “it’s time to introduce you to the others.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
I’d truly love to hear your thoughts.
See you in the next one! 🌸
Chapter Text
As Kyojurou had said, there were few students in the "Elite College" of the Demon Slayer Organization.
Toki stood in front of them — their eyes on her as if she were some rare exhibit behind glass.
“It feels like I'm on trial. Their stares cut deeper than any seal. Why is it so hard just to breathe...?”
“Well, I’m sure you've already been briefed, but I wanted to introduce her personally,” Kyojurou said with his usual bright smile. With a theatrical gesture, he pointed to her. “This is Amida Toki, and starting today, she’ll be joining you as a fellow student.”
The students didn’t just look displeased — from the very beginning, there was a chill in their eyes. Some even looked openly hostile. Though the Organization had promised Toki safety, Kagaya Ubuyashiki himself had admitted her powers could be dangerous. The others had been warned — treat her with caution. In practice, they treated her almost like a demon — one that had been granted permission to walk freely among those sworn to fight them.
Toki felt uneasy. She bowed slightly and said quietly:
“Good morning. It’s nice to meet you.”
Lifting her head, she found only judgmental gazes waiting for her.
Sensing the oppressive atmosphere, Kyojurou clapped his hands loudly:
“Alright, that's enough! Whatever you've heard about Toki-chan, make your own judgments only after getting to know her.”
At his words, one boy stepped forward — the same one Toki had seen training earlier that morning. He had burgundy hair and a scar across his forehead. He bowed and smiled gently:
“It’s nice to meet you. I'm Kamado Tanjirou. If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Now that is the right spirit!” Kyojurou said approvingly. “I expect everyone else to treat our new friend just as kindly.”
“She’s... cursed, isn’t she? Why’d they even bring her here?” the thought belonged to a girl with black twin ponytails, arms crossed, clearly displeased.
When no one else stepped forward, Kyojuro took it upon himself to introduce them:
“Alright, Toki-chan, let me walk you through the group. The one with yellow hair — that’s Agatsuma Zenitsu. He’s a gifted student of one of the old masters of thunder magic. But be careful — when he gets nervous, he can be... unpredictable.”
Zenitsu glanced at Toki with wary eyes, clearly afraid of her powers.
“The one with the black hair is Hashibira Inosuke. A bit... eccentric, but you’ll get along just fine. And that guy with the mohawk? That’s Shinazugawa Genya, younger brother of one of the Pillars.”
Toki flinched slightly, remembering the white-haired hunter who had demanded her execution.
“The girl with the violet eyes is Tsuyuri Kanao. Next to her is Aoi Kanzaki. Both of them are students of Kochou and live in the same dorm as you. I hope you get along.”
Toki remembered passing Kanao in the corridor that morning — and feels the cold stare her friend had given her.
“So, the group may be small, but we’re tight-knit,” Kyojurou continued. He smiled at Toki. “Your classes will begin next week. For now, rest. And as for the rest of you...” he looked around the group, “...head to the classroom. I’ll join you shortly.”
The students bowed and began to disperse.
Toki exhaled slowly. Kyojurou gave her an encouraging look:
“Don’t worry. They’re good guys. Oh, and by the way — we wear uniforms here. Yours will arrive soon.”
He turned to Muichirou:
“You’ve got class and patrol duty tomorrow, right?”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
Toki’s eyes widened — she'd just remembered she was still technically a university student.
“I-I have class tomorrow too. Actually... I was supposed to be at university today...” she said, glancing at Muichirou.
“Perfect! Then you’ll go together,” Kyojurou replied. “And don’t worry about missing class — the Organization took care of it.”
“I leave at ten,” Muichirou said as he stepped closer.
Toki hesitated before asking:
“C-could we go an hour earlier? My classes start at nine.”
Muichirou nodded without hesitation.
“I have patrol duty after class. You’ll return to HQ on your own.”
“Right! Toki-chan, you’re still recovering. Don’t overdo it — take the weekend to rest. If you have questions, call or stop by my office. I’m not just head of the Investigation Division — I also teach Demon Ability Theory, over there,” he gestured toward one of the distant buildings. “I’ll give you my number. You can text me anytime.”
He recited it, and Toki saved it in her phone with a nod.
“Alright, off I go! The students are waiting!”
Then, Rengoku turning to Muichirou:
“Show Toki-chan around HQ, will you? It’s easy to get lost here. Alright, see you soon!”
As he left, Muichirou turned his cold gaze to Toki.
“Follow me.”
They walked in silence. From time to time, Muichirou pointed things out.
“Academic building. Cafeteria. Main hall…”
They passed the training hall, where shouts echoed behind closed doors. The weapons storage was locked tight — its black metal doors looked more like prison bars than anything else.
Toki’s thoughts drifted.
“This place breathes war. Even the air feels sharp — like a blade.”
About half an hour had passed. At some point, he stopped — sensing they weren’t alone.
"Muichirou-kun, I was just looking for you," came the voice of Shinobu Kochou. She clasped her hands near her face and smiled sweetly. "I’d like to take a blood sample from her for research."
Muichirou noticed how Toki flinched at those words. She clearly disliked being treated like a test subject. He looked at Shinobu.
"Does it have to be right now?"
There was an unusual sharpness in his voice. Toki looked at him, surprised.
"Yes. By Oyakata-sama’s order, I must begin my research on her as soon as possible," Shinobu replied, equally surprised.
Muichirou exhaled quietly but gave a small nod.
At the infirmary, Shinobu drew Toki’s blood. The girl clenched her teeth.
“This is awful… I feel like a monster everyone wants to examine…”
Afterward, Muichirou walked her back to the residential building.
"I’ll come for you at eight tomorrow. Don’t be late."
"Understood," she replied and stepped inside her room.
“Finally, I’m alone. I just want my old life back… to be the ordinary Toki again.”
She spent the rest of the evening unpacking her things. Later, she went to bed, knowing she’d have to wake up early the next day.
To her surprise, Muichirou really did show up at exactly eight the next morning. Toki was already waiting at the entrance.
A car from the Organization took them to the university. Outside the building, Muichirou said:
"I’ll be waiting here. My classes end at one."
"Mine too," Toki replied and walked into the building.
Muichirou watched her go. He didn’t rush to class — his own lecture didn’t start for another hour, so he stopped by a nearby café for a bite.
He ordered a seafood sandwich and a honey latte, then opened his phone and checked his schedule: "Ancient Civilizations — Room 16."
After eating, he headed to class… and to his surprise, saw Toki already there, writing something down.
He quietly walked over and sat beside her. She was so focused, she didn’t notice him at first. Only after a few seconds did she sense his gaze and look up.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised.
"I have class here. And you?"
"Uh… same. Wait, are we in the same program? Are you studying history too?"
Muichirou leaned his chin on his hand and looked at her thoughtfully.
"No. I’m studying to be an artist."
Her pen slipped out of her fingers.
"You’re… an artist?"
"Yeah. What's wrong?"
”Nothing…"
The bell rang, and the lecture began. Toki took careful notes, occasionally glancing at Muichiro — who was sketching something in his notebook.
“When we first met, this sketchbook fell out of his hands… So strange. A demon hunter — and an artist.”
Muichirou suddenly looked her straight in the eyes. The intensity made her uneasy, and she quickly looked away. But he didn’t look away. He kept studying her face, as if trying to memorize every feature.
“She's so fragile…” he thought, before returning to his drawing.
The day passed quickly. The driver dropped Toki off at the headquarters first, then took Muichirou on patrol.
The city swallowed him in its restless glow, leaving Toki’s presence lingering somewhere far behind, like a fragile thread he wasn’t sure he should follow
Notes:
Thank you for reading and for the kudos 🫶
Chapter 6: First steps
Notes:
Hi everyone! New chapter is here! ✨
Hope you enjoy it!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The weekend had arrived — the first one Toki spent at the Demon Slayer headquarters. She hadn’t slept well and purposely left the nightlight on, afraid of the darkness and the crushing loneliness.
Waking up at dawn, she lay in bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Eventually, she got up, pulled on a gray hoodie, tied her hair into a messy bun, and headed toward the cafeteria.
On her way, she ran into Aoi, who scoffed quietly and looked away.
“Good thing I decided to come later for breakfast… I’d rather avoid unnecessary encounters,” Toki thought, trying to shake off the memory of Aoi’s disgusted expression.
She ate quickly, then decided to take a short walk — staying cooped up in the same room was starting to affect her.
Toki followed the same path Muichirou had chosen before, avoiding the main building and the eerie structure with the sealing charms. As she reached a steep staircase, she heard voices — students. The same ones she’d briefly met yesterday. Down below, in the training yard, young hunters were sparring. Focused, exhausted, yet burning with determination.
Toki stopped by the railing and watched.
Among the fighters, she recognized the ponytailed girl she had bumped into in the hallway. The girl moved swiftly, cutting through the air with wide, sharp arcs of her wooden sword. Toki simply observed from above, not wanting to draw attention by going down.
“I wonder what next week holds for me. Will I be training like them? Fighting? What kind of missions will I get? Muichirou found a demon at the university, didn’t he...? That could happen again.”
A chill ran down her spine. Goosebumps rose on her skin. Uneasy, she turned back and headed for her room. To her surprise, upon entering, she found a black uniform hanging neatly on a hook by the wardrobe.
“Rengoku-san did mention they’d bring it today…” she recalled.
Taking it down, she laid the uniform out on the bed.
“It looks just like the ones the others wore yesterday… though each of them had small differences,” she murmured.
The uniform consisted of a high-collared jacket with unusual puffed sleeves. There were two bottom options: a long pleated black jumper skirt, or pants that slightly widened at the hem — vaguely reminiscent of hakama.
Toki tried on both. To her surprise, the outfit fit pretty well.
The jacket fit well around her waist, the tailored shape giving her a neat, elegant look. The puffed sleeves added a subtle touch of playfulness. The pants were comfortable and fit her frame just right. The skirt softened the overall impression, making her appear approachable and calm.
“…It’s actually kind of nice,” she whispered. And with that thought came a wave of unease. “Am I really becoming part of this system…?”
Suddenly, her phone rang, and a name appeared on the screen: Rengoku Kyojurou.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Toki-chan! Hey! How are you? Getting used to the headquarters?”
“Yeah… I think a little bit, little by little. Thanks for asking. By the way, my uniform already arrived.”
“That’s good! Do you need anything?”
“No, I have everything. But thanks, Rengoku-san.”
“All right, if you need anything — I’m always here. See you Monday.”
After talking to Kyojurou, her heart felt warmer. He was like the sun, warming everyone with his rays.
Muichirou returned from patrol deep into the night. Exhausted to the point of collapse, he immediately collapsed onto his bed and slept until two in the afternoon.
He would have slept longer, face buried in the pillow without moving — the accumulated fatigue had drained him completely. But a phone call woke him. Waking up was agonizing. His head was pounding, and his body felt heavy as if made of cotton.
“Tokitou,” came the voice of Iguro Obanai. “There’s a report of a demon appearing in the Nakano area. Several people are missing. Head there. The kakushi will pick you up soon. Seals and the barrier are set. The demon must not escape.”
“Understood,” Muichirou replied shortly and hung up.
He closed his eyes with his hand, shielding them from the sunlight.
"I have to get up."
Summoning all his willpower, he rose. His body ached, his eyes stuck together. After a cold shower, he headed for the fridge.
“Empty again…”
Through the window, he saw the Kakushi vehicle pulling up. Muichirou quickly put on his uniform, threw on his jacket, and went outside.
“Tokitou-dono, are you ready?”
“Yeah,” he nodded and got into the car.
They arrived quickly. Several kakushi and demon hunters surrounded the high-rise office building.
“The barrier is set,” one of them reported. “Everything’s ready.”
“Understood,” Muichirou said, drawing his sword, its steel pure white.
Despite the clear day outside, inside — because of the barrier — it was night.
The 26th floor. Something was pulling him there. He sensed a strange, sticky energy — demonic energy.
Muichirou stepped into the building, the barrier behind him sealing off the world outside. The sudden shift from bright daylight to unnatural darkness hit his senses like a blow. The stale air inside was thick with a heavy, oppressive presence — demonic energy clung to every surface like a suffocating fog.
His boots echoed quietly on the polished floor as he ascended the elevator. The numbers flickered rapidly — 26. With a soft ding , the doors slid open to reveal a bloodstained corridor. The metallic scent of iron filled his nostrils, mingling with something darker, more sinister.
He was not mistaken. As always.
From the shadows in the conference room came a voice — mocking, dripping with contempt:
“They sent a Hashira? How... amusing."
Muichirou’s gaze narrowed. The demon emerged, towering and grotesque, a twisted smile curling its lips as it cradled a lifeless body.
“If I eat you...” it taunted, but Muichirou had already vanished. “What the…?!”
The clash was sudden and brutal. Muichirou’s sword sliced through the stale air, gleaming as it met the demon’s claws. Sparks flew. The demon snarled, leaping back with unnatural agility.
“Predictable,” Muichirou murmured, voice cold and steady.
“Shut up! Portal!”
The floor cracked beneath his feet, forming a hole. The demon disappeared. Without hesitation, Muichirou leapt after it, landing hard on the technical floor below. The air here was colder, charged with volatile energy. Black blades shot from the surrounding portals, their edges gleaming ominously.
Muscles coiled, Muichirou deflected them all with fluid precision, his movements a deadly dance.
“Guess where I am? Or die!” the demon’s voice echoed from every direction.
His breaths came measured, controlled. Focused. He had to find the demon — or the mission would fail. Then, out of the shadows — a flash of pale skin, a flicker of crimson hair.
“Found you...” Muichirou said softly.
With a swift strike, the demon’s head tumbled to the floor, blood pooling beneath it. The silence that followed was almost unbearable.
Muichirou sheathed his sword and climbed the stairs back to the street level.
“Tokitou-dono, is it over?” came a voice.
“Yes,” he replied, voice low.
“Then let’s go back. Iguro-dono asked for a report.”
Muichirou didn’t like reports. Usually, he sent brief messages through other hunters. But surprisingly, this time the young man agreed. He sat in the car, staring out the window.
Iguro was surprised by the personal visit, but Muichiro gave a brief report and left quickly.
“At least he came in person…” Iguro thought, signing the document.
It was about five in the evening. The sky was painted in sunset hues. Muichirou walked through the inner courtyard, lost in thought. His head throbbed from fatigue. He almost passed the residential building but his gaze caught on a familiar figure.
On the veranda outside her room sat Toki. A light cardigan, her hair loose, a book in her hands. The wind lazily flipped the pages.
Muichirou froze. Then slowly approached. Toki flipped a page, blinked — and their eyes met.
She flinched.
“Gods… I didn’t notice you were here!”
Muichirou glanced away slightly.
“Hi,” this time he didn’t forget to greet her.
“Hi. You always show up so quietly?”
He shrugged. He wanted to say something — ask about her day, what she was reading — but stayed silent. Just looked at her.
Toki sighed.
“ He really doesn’t seem bad. Just strange. Okay… I’ll trust Rengoku-san.”
She noticed the katana.
“Were you on a mission?”
He nodded, gripping the sword a little tighter. Silence fell.
“Want to sit?” she offered, shifting. “I’m afraid to imagine what it’s like — fighting demons…”
He sat down beside her.
“Sooner or later, you’ll have to do it too. There’s no choice.”
She looked at him indifferently. Almost immediately regretted inviting him. The silence became heavy.
They both looked at the landscape. Muichirou — occasionally at her. For some reason, he was curious to study the girl.
Toki couldn’t bear it any longer.
“It’s getting cold. I think I’ll go. Bye.”
“Bye,” he answered, staying on the veranda for a while longer.
Muichirou gazed up at the sky, marveling at the stars that seemed ready to fall upon him at any moment. His mind was full of thoughts, unaware that soon everything would change — and most of all, he himself. The night was calm, broken only by the cawing of crows, as if warning of an approaching storm.
Kaguya Ubuyashiki looked up at the same sky, pondering.
”I need to learn about her abilities, as soon as possible — then maybe everything will change...”
Notes:
Thanks for reading! See you on Friday 🌙
Chapter 7: The Weight of the Blade
Notes:
Phew, I finally wrote it! 🫡
Chapters might get a little longer now, but I’m really enjoying it. Muichirou is so mysterious and interesting to describe, lol. Hope you have fun reading! 🫧
Chapter Text
Monday arrived — the very day when Toki was supposed to begin her first training sessions and receive an explanation of the hunter’s duties.
Muichirou remembered this and deliberately woke up early, not wanting to be late. Once again, he forgot to have breakfast — this time because he planned to take longer than usual. He looked great today: yesterday, finally, he had slept well on a day off from missions; in the morning, he took a long shower, dried his long hair, and tied it up in a high ponytail. He wore a black long-sleeve under his jacket. He smelled nice — something light and piney.
There was a knock at the door.
“Tokitou-dono, the car is waiting for you!” came kakushi’s voice.
Muichirou silently went out and got into the car.
“Oyakata-sama asked you to come see him when you arrive at the headquarters,” kakushi said.
“All right,” he replied and, as usual, stared out the window, resting his cheek on his hand.
"Training? Interesting... I’ve never been trained by anyone myself ", he thought, watching the spring landscape outside.
The car arrived at headquarters. Muichirou headed straight to Kagaya’s residence.
He bowed deeply at the door:
“Oyakata-sama, this is Muichirou Tokitou.”
“Muichirou-kun, come in,” came a calm reply.
He opened the shoji doors and saw Kagaya leisurely drinking tea, looking at the garden.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Sit down. Keep me company.”
Muichirou sat across from him and accepted the cup.
“Today Amida-san’s training begins. Have you decided how you will start?”
“No,” he answered honestly. “I’ve never taught anyone before. I’ll start with an assessment.”
Kagaya smiled mysteriously.
“I see. After the training, you will go on a mission. Take her with you.”
He set the cup down and looked Muichirou in the eyes carefully:
“The sooner we learn her abilities, the sooner we’ll know how to act. Do you understand?”
Muichirou nodded.
“Yes, Oyakata-sama.”
"Well, I expected no less from you. My faithful sharp blade.”
Muichirou bowed.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll go now. I want to check her first.”
“Of course. Good luck, Muichirou-kun.”
Kagaya watched him leave and quietly poured himself another cup of tea.
Muichirou headed to the residential quarters flower.
He stopped at Toki’s door. For some reason, he didn’t knock right away; his hand hesitated for a second.
"What am I waiting for?.."
Then he knocked.
Toki had long been ready. She opened the door and saw him — that cold look.
“Hi,” Muichirou said.
“Hi,” she replied.
She was already wearing the hunter’s uniform — jacket, pants, black sneakers. Her hair was braided. The uniform felt strange to her, as if she were betraying herself.
“Follow me,” he said shortly, put his hand in his pocket, and headed for the exit.
The training hall was empty. Muichirou entered first, took off his shoes, and stepped onto the tatami. Toki silently followed. He went to the rack and took two training swords. He tossed one to her.
Toki didn’t react in time, and the sword fell to the floor with a dull thud.
"Oh no!", she thought, shrinking a little.
Muichirou remained calm.
“Attack me. Use everything that comes to mind,” he said. He held his sword in one hand, the other tucked in his pocket.
Toki hesitantly raised her sword. Her hands were trembling.
“Is it… like this?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just attack,” he replied indifferently.
He wasn’t good at explaining; he always acted according to the situation.
Toki remembered a samurai movie she had watched long ago and couldn’t think of anything better than to run straight at him and attack head-on.
He dodged. She fell.
“Ouch…” the girl said, rubbing her elbow.
“Get up. Attack,” he said calmly.
She didn’t understand the point of this “training.”
Toki looked up and thought:
“This is nonsense.”
But she didn’t argue. She attacked and fell. He easily knocked her sword aside, twisted her arm, disarmed her. Half an hour passed like this.
Toki was breathing heavily, sitting on her knees before him.
He didn’t even twitch a brow.
“You’re extremely weak physically. That needs fixing.”
Toki looked up in confusion:
“I know. I’ve never held a sword before…”
“That’s not the point. Your body is like crystal — easy to break. Kanroji will fix that.”
She blinked in surprise — wasn’t he supposed to train her?
“I’m still your fencing instructor, and I’ll be constantly watching all your training,” he added as if reading her thoughts. “We’ve been ordered to go on a mission together. Let’s go…”
He didn’t hurry to leave the headquarters, but for some reason headed toward the armory with the metal door. It was sealed with magical symbols.
Muichirou passed his hand over it — the seal dissipated.
“Like magic…” thought Toki.
He scanned the room with his eyes and took out a wakizashi with magical markings.
“Take this; it should be enough for now,” he handed her the blade.
“What is this? Why does it have symbols?”
“It’s a wakizashi for killing demons. The symbols enhance the cutting power, especially against those fortified by magic.”
Toki shivered.
“I don’t want to use it...”
They were taken to the mission site. It was an ancient shrine.
“Tokitou-dono, everything is ready, the magical curtains are set up, we’ll be waiting for you. Good luck.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. Looked at the girl. “Don’t stray from me and don’t get in the way.”
“Sounds like two different orders…” she thought and gripped the blade tighter. She wasn’t going to leave his side. After all — he was the only one who could protect her.
The shrine was shrouded in fog. The stone slabs were slippery, omamori fluttered in the wind. Muichirou stopped.
“He’s here.”
Toki felt a chill run down her skin. From the darkness, a demon appeared.
Muichirou reacted instantly. A sweep of his snow-white, mist-like sword — and the pitch-black darkness flared with the blade’s reflections.
“A young hunter and a trembling girl? Ha! I’ve killed dozens; you’re just more humans!”
The demon vanished; his speed was abnormal.
“He moves faster than the others. Is that his ability?” Muichirou thought.
The demon burst into existence right in front of Muichirou, claws slicing the air. A sharp rip — his uniform tore, fabric fluttering where its talons had grazed his shoulder.
“Tch!”
It moved like a man, yet every step bent the world around it — twisted, jerking, wrong. Strong. Dangerous.
But to Muichirou, it was only another hunt. The fight was quick, his blade striking with unerring precision. Steel met flesh — a clean pierce, a harsh throw. The demon collapsed in the dust… but did not vanish.
“That’s it,” Muichirou exhaled, voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency. “He won’t get up. Finish him.”
He turned to Toki. His voice was even, but there was urgency beneath it: time was running out.
“W-what? Finish him off?..”
“W-what? Finish him?..” The words trembled on her lips, her eyes wide with fear.
Muichirou’s gaze didn’t waver.
“Do it.”
He was cold and harsh. There was no warmth in his tone, only a cold edge. He knew — sometimes fear forced the dormant to awaken. And she needed to awaken.
Her fingers closed around the hilt. One step forward. Her hand trembled violently. Then—she saw it. A human face. Distorted, blurred, like a reflection in rippling water… but unmistakably human.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “He… was human?”
Her breath caught.
Muichirou stepped closer.
“He’s no longer human,” he said firmly. “And never will be again. If you hesitate — he’ll kill you.”
But Toki didn’t move. The sword sank, her knuckles pale, tears spilling freely. She couldn’t cross that line. It was wild to her.
Silence.
Then, without a flicker of doubt, Muichirou stepped in and struck. One swift motion. The head fell.
Toki flinched as if the cut had split the air between them.
From the shadows came a rasping, violent snarl.
“Second one. A twin?” the young man thought, noticing a copy of the one he had just killed seconds ago.
From somewhere behind, from the shadows — just like before but more furious. Another shape — identical to the one he had just killed — lunged forward, faster, more vicious. Its claws aimed for the weaker prey. Muichirou turned sharply, taking the strike himself. Pain flared white-hot in his shoulder, blood spraying across the ground. Muichirou spun and took the blow himself, shielding Toki. Blood splattered, he staggered but stayed on his feet.
“Muichirou!” Toki shouted.
The young man quickly turned and repeated the action a second time. The demon was defeated.
Muichirou held on.
“Deep wound, losing a lot of blood,” he thought, feeling pain in his shoulder and neck.
He fell to his knees. Toki caught him, her fingers brushed against his shoulder, and the world seemed to pause. From her touch, a strange warmth spread, almost liquid, weaving itself through torn muscles and shattered tissue. The wound knit together as if the flesh remembered its original form, stitching itself seamlessly, yet with an ethereal glow—like moonlight caught in morning mist.
It wasn’t just healing. It was creation. A quiet force, instinctive and alive, that flowed through her like rivers of light. Tiny sparks, almost imperceptible, danced along her skin and along the repaired area, dissolving blood and agony into something fluid, pure. The air around her seemed to hum, as though acknowledging that the impossible had just occurred. She hadn’t even thought to use it; it came forth on instinct, a fragment of herself she hadn’t yet understood.
Muichirou stared, realizing not only the scope of what she could do, but the danger it carried. He recoiled, pushed her hand away.
“No need. I can handle it.”
He realized that Toki hadn’t even noticed when she manifested her abilities. She hadn’t even realized what she’d done. It had been instinct.
“But you’re bleeding! It’s my fault,” her voice trembled, “If not for me…”
He looked at her calmly, without the cold detachment that always lurked beneath the surface.
“This is my job, and I don’t ask for pity. Especially not from you.”
She froze. Her chest tightened at the words.
“Let’s go,” he ordered and walked ahead.
They walked along a narrow path from the shrine, and neither of them said a word. Muichirou kept his posture straight, but his step became a little slower, uneven. His shoulder was torn, and though the bleeding stopped after Toki’s touch, the pain remained. He felt her walking beside him, as if half a step behind. As if afraid to be close. As if sensing fear and pain. He rejected her support out of habit. Besides, Oyakata-sama had said she was a tool, maybe even cursed. But he protected her. He would do it again. But why did it hurt so much to see her tears, her gaze — that fear, that terror, when she looked not at the demon… but at him?
The car ride back passed without words.
When Muichirou sent his report to Oyakata-sama, it was longer than usual, each detail carefully chosen:
Spontaneous tissue regeneration; touch — wound closed...
Kagaya reread it, fingers still. His eyes narrowed.
“Amida Toki. Could it be?”
He remembered the day of her trial. The seal. The strange, impossible flower.
“Spider lily…”
The name burned on his tongue.
He moved to the window, the moon a cold witness above.
“One flower. One person. One mistake — and everything we’ve feared will come true,” he murmured.
Then his voice sharpened, a quiet blade in the dark.
“But who said I’d allow that? All we need… is a little more time. And then…”
The smile that touched his lips was unreadable — neither kind nor cruel, but something in between. Something dangerous.
Chapter 8: Echoes of Emptiness
Notes:
Hii guys! 💫 I finally finished a new chapter~ This one has a bit of Muichirou’s past and some extra world lore. Writing Kyojurou was such a joy, he’s honestly such a warm and kind soul!!🔥
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The nightmares haunted her again. She saw a sword slicing through a neck and the demon’s head flying off to the side. Then, blood soaked everything.
Toki woke up in terror—her heart pounding wildly.
“I’m going crazy… There’s no way to get used to this,” she thought, clenching her teeth and covering her eyes with her hand.
“Today I have my first classes. Looks like it’s going to be Rengoku-san’s lecture. That’s a relief. Rengoku-san is such a kind person, being around him feels warm and cozy. He is like sunlight after a cold winter.”
The girl glanced at her shoulder and noticed a strange shape like a lily.
“Hm, weird. Maybe it’s a scar left from a demon’s wound?”
Toki decided not to linger. She got ready, putting on her uniform. She dressed quickly, choosing a pinafore dress over a white shirt tied her hair back into a low ponytail and applied a light touch of makeup.
“Looks okay. A little blush should brighten up my pale face after those nightmares,” she whispered, then sighed.
She headed to the cafeteria. To her dismay all the students were already there. She let out a breath, grabbed a tray, and sat at the only empty table feeling a few uncomfortable stares on her back.
“Good morning, mind if I sit here?” came a familiar voice.
It was the same young man who had been the only one to show her kindness and greeted her back then—Kamado Tanjirou. Toki nodded.
“Good morning. Sure, have a seat.”
He smiled warmly and sat opposite her.
“Don’t mind them. They’ll get used to it. It’s just…”
“I get it. I’m kind of cursed. Not so different from the ones you hunt,” she replied coldly, her voice laced with sadness and bitterness.
Tanjirou sighed.
“Why did you decide to sit with me?” she asked directly.
“Well,” he smiled, “it’s sad being alone. I get how you feel.”
Toki was surprised. He continued.
“A year ago my sister and I moved to Tokyo. A demon attacked us and my sister was turned. Nezuko became a demon. But the organization decided to keep her alive for study. They hope to find a cure for these transformations. Nezuko’s kind of a failed sample—turned into a demon, but with side effects. Usually, such demons die, but she survived, that’s what they told me. I decided to become strong and joined the organization so I could have constant access to Nezuko, visit her even if she doesn’t remember my face. Many judge me, many hate my sister... but I don’t care. I believe she’ll come back.”
He smiled, but it was a sad smile. Toki realized that there were others here who didn’t want this either just like her. She felt a pang of sorrow.
“Thanks for sharing,” she said softly, then smiled. “You know, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. Help your sister.”
Tanjirou laughed warmly.
“Yeah! Rengoku-san’s lecture will start soon. By the way…” he said, taking a bite of fish, “…he was the one who helped me fit in here. Also, another Pillar Tomioka-dono protected me and my sister. He said he’d take responsibility for us and insisted that Nezuko not be killed but kept at the headquarters.”
“Wow...” the girl said in surprise.
“Are there really Pillars who don’t blindly follow orders but instead give chances even to people like his sister?..” she thought.
After breakfast, a strange guy with messy hair tipped in blue approached them. He was chewing a bun and loudly asked through his chewing:
“Hey, Kamaboko!”
“Kamaboko?” thought Toki, not understanding him.
“Inosuke-kun, we’re almost done. Want to go to Rengoku-san’s class together?”
“No! I wanna fight the demons!” he said, finishing the bun. Then swallowing the last bite, he spoke normally: “Let’s go! I’ll kick your butt!”
Tanjirou nervously smiled.
“Inosuke-kun, you shouldn’t train right after breakfast. Besides, we still have classes today. As far as I remember, you’re going on a joint mission with Uzui-dono tonight?”
Tanjirou skillfully changed the subject. Toki immediately caught on.
“Tch,” the other clicked his tongue annoyedly. “The teacher’s boring! He’s always unhappy and won’t let me thrash the demons! I keep telling him: I’m ready! I’m the god of battle, the great Inosuke-sama!”
“Maybe you should listen to Uzui-dono? After all, he took you as his tsuguku so you can learn from him personally.”
“That’s boring…” he declared. “Fine, I’ll ask Zunitsa if he wants to spar with me.”
The guy walked away.
“What was that?” thought Toki considering him more than a little strange.
Tanjirou noticed her reaction and laughed.
“Inosuke-kun is always like that but he’s a good guy.”
“I see...” she said, then asked, “Who are tsuguku?”
Tanjirou was surprised by her question.
“Well... Some students are taken under personal training by the Pillars usually because of similar magic or personal interest. It doesn’t happen often. There are three of us like that: Inosuke-kun is the tsuguku of Uzui-dono, the Sound Pillar. They’re similar in some ways, and Inosuke’s fighting style kind of resembles Uzui-dono’s style. Tsuyuri-san is the tsuguku of Kochou-dono. Actually, she was the tsuguku of Kochou’s older sister, Kanae, a former Pillar. She taught her magic but after an accident the younger Kocho took her sister’s place and continued training Tsuyuri-san.”
Toki listened with interest.
“And who’s the third?”
Tanjirou smiled awkwardly.
“Amida-san, you’re the third tsuguku. Tokitou-dono took you under his wing. Of course, it’s a bit of a stretch... but basically, you are his tsuguko…”
Toki nearly choked on her tea, coughing in shock.
“What? Me?!”
“Yeah,” he smiled. “Exactly. Alright, it’s time. The class is about to start. Shall we go?”
The girl sat with a stone face, still processing reality. Tanjirou noticed and smiled.
“Let’s go or we’ll be late.”
The lecture took place in one of the spacious, bright rooms at headquarters — with matte rice paper partitions and rows of low seats. Outside the windows, the garden whispered: the rustling of leaves and birdsong sounded unexpectedly peaceful, as if pain had never touched this world.
“Greetings!” Kyojurou’s voice rang out, loud and cheerful. He stood tall, arms crossed, his black uniform slightly loosened by an open button. His voice carried warmth without pressure — steady, confident, reassuring.
The Flame Hashira noticed that Toki looked more lively today. He guessed that Tanjirou was helping her manage her anxiety.
“He’s a good kid… The hardships he’s endured gave him a depth of understanding, enough to imagine himself in Toki-chan’s place.”
Everyone settled into the available seats.
Their teacher began.
“Today, since we have a newcomer among you I’ll tell you a bit of theory: how a hunter works, what demons are about. In general — how our world functions.”
Kyojurou looked at his students and continued:
“Demons prey on people consumed by strong emotions. Those they turn often die, unable to endure their new nature. Only a few survive”
Kyojurou glanced toward Tanjirou, who exhaled quietly.
“Muzan Kibutsuji, the strongest among them, is hundreds of years old,” Kyojurou continued, staring into the distance. “He is the one who started the cycle of turning with his sinister powers. He created most demons. Around him are many demons. The strongest among them we call the Moons. Though Muzan himself has long gone unheard of, his creations continue to appear.”
After a brief pause, he straightened up. His voice grew sterner:
“It’s important to understand: not all demons are the same. Some descended directly from Muzan — through his blood. These we consider created demons.”
He took a step forward, his gaze darkening.
“But some are different. Primordials. Not born of Muzan, but born from distortions in the world itself. Muzan was one of them. And others still walk the earth. One such being is Douma, Upper Rank Two. We don’t even know if he was ever human. His existence feels closer to a curse than a life.”
Kyojurou swept his hand through the air, as if trying to grasp an invisible thread.
“Besides demons, there are… anomalies. Shadows. Those we call curses. They have no flesh but influence the world. They do not always follow logic and are not always linked to demons. But they are no less dangerous. Also, I want to remind you about some very important people who don’t even realize their uniqueness — the Marechi.” Kyojurou glanced at one student with a mohawk and continued, “They are special individuals whose blood makes demons much stronger. That’s why we protect them like the apple of our eye, keep strict records, and check regularly. Their safety is our safety. Remember that.”
Toki felt uneasy, but the Flame Hashira smiled brightly and continued:
“But then—there are us. The Demon Slayers. Thanks to us, the world has known years of fragile peace. People can breathe easy, even at night. We don’t fight because we are strong. We fight because we must. Even when we’re afraid. Even when it hurts. Even when no one else is left. That is what makes us hunters.”
He paused, as if recalling what else he wanted to say.
“We use swords forged from a special alloy. They are made from metal harmful to demons. Some use other means — spells, charms, special magic, or different weapons. But the sword remains universal. Weak demons cannot heal their wounds and die. With the strong ones it’s more complicated. We fight them — the Hashira — and you, those gifted with special magic.”
He smiled faintly.
“Among us are not only swordsmen. Summoners, assistants, scouts, specialists in cleansing and barriers — all are important. But those who fight demons directly follow a special path. Not everyone can see magic. But that doesn’t make them weak. Without the regular hunters, our work would be impossible. Just as without the kakushi who help us with routine, logistics, and all sorts of red tape. So train hard, everyone, and become stronger! Any questions?” Kyojurou asked with a smile.
Silence answered him.
“Good. That means you understand.”
For some time, he spoke about the nature of magic and how it arises. He used his own clan as an example — the Flame clan, possessing the power of flame magic.
Toki listened. She realized how fragile the world was and how it was protected — at the cost of lives. She felt sad. She remembered that demon… and Muichirou’s cold composure. Gradually, she began to understand him. To feel for him. Because this work really mattered more than many things in this world.
That’s all for today!” Kyojurou declared, his smile bright as fire.
Everyone began leaving, and he noticed Toki looked upset.
The Flame Hashira approached her.
“How are you, Toki-chan?” Kyojurou’s voice was soft, lacking its usual fire.
“I…” she lowered her head. “It’s all… complicated.”
He asked her.
“Would you like some tea? My brother made mochi with adzuki. Food always tastes better in company, don’t you think?”
Toki smiled and nodded.
They walked to the lounge, Kyojurou poured them tea and laid out the treats.
“Enjoy!” he said.
Toki also wished him a good appetite and began eating.
“It’s delicious.”
“My brother is a culinary genius.”
He noticed she seemed troubled.
“Tell me, Toki-chan.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds, until the ripple in her gaze turned into restrained words.
“On our mission with Muichirou… I couldn’t even touch the demon with my sword,” her voice came out almost a whisper. “He wanted me to kill him. But it was… it wasn’t a creature. It was a remnant of a person. I… I can’t be like you hunters. This world isn’t mine… I’m not a killer, even if there’s a demon in front of me…”
Kyojurou lowered his eyes, lifting the cup to his lips but didn’t drink. Warm steam rose, dissolving into the cool air.
“Muichirou,” she continued. “He was… merciless. Calm, as if he felt nothing. For him, it was just… work. For me — shock. Fear. Disgust. This isn’t my world.”
She closed her eyes as if in pain.
Kyojurou didn’t answer immediately. He only looked ahead, where evening shadows began gathering behind the trees.
“Toki-chan,” he finally said. “I’ve known him for many years. Muichirou Tokitou… he’s like a younger brother to me. He was always cold as if his heart had frozen.”
Kyojurou took a sip of tea, but there was no bitterness in his voice — only warm sadness.
“I met him when he was only thirteen. A scorching summer. The headquarters was in panic: a demon attack on a regular family. Everyone died — mother, father, brother. Only Muichirou survived. They said he killed the demon with his bare hands. A boy covered in blood and terrible wounds with empty eyes.”
Toki was silent, as if holding her breath.
“At that time, Kanae — the elder Kochou — was still alive,” he continued softly. “She diagnosed him with amnesia. Complete. No memories of the past. No words, no faces. Only coldness, fear, and absolute emptiness inside. I decided to take him under my wing and did just that.”
Kyojurou looked at Toki, his voice lowering. He fell silent again. Somewhere in the garden, an old bamboo lattice creaked.
“Tokitou turned out to be a genius. He quickly surpassed everyone. In his very first sparring he knocked the sword out of my hands. He barely needed training — knowledge seemed to live inside him already. But at the same time — not a single sign of emotion. I spent a lot of time with him, sometimes taking him out of class dragging him around cafes and parks during free moments. But he remained himself — cold as a wall. Over time, I noticed Muichirou was good at drawing. So I started giving him little things, trying my best to support his hobby. I have a younger brother myself, and it hurt to see a kid whose only skill was holding a sword and training nonstop. I think it surprised him a lot back then, and he continued drawing, sometimes even sharing the results with me. Damn, he was really good! Only then did something appear in his eyes… something besides fog.”
Kyojurou looked down at his tea. His palms were calm but clenched.
“At fifteen he became a Hashira. The youngest. A demon slayer without hesitation. Without mercy. Even if they begged for their lives. Especially then: during a joint mission, one demon — he cried saying he remembered being human… Muichirou just slit his throat. Didn’t even blink. Said hesitation was weakness.”
Toki looked at him with pain in her eyes.
“That’s very sad…”
“Yes,” Kyojurou confirmed with a faint, sorrowful smile. “But maybe, deep inside… he’s different. Even if he doesn’t admit it. So, Toki-chan, don’t blame him for his behavior or words — that’s just who he is. He doesn’t know any other life. It’s not his fault.”
Kyojurou smiled.
Toki nodded, and they continued drinking tea.
On her way home, she noticed a familiar silhouette against the fading sky. Tall, in a black uniform, with long hair.
“Muichirou…”
Her heart clenched. He walked slowly as usual — as if he didn’t feel the weight of time.
Thoughts of Kyojurou’s story, his voice full of quiet pain, gave her some confidence.
“He can’t be any other way.”
She gathered her courage and approached.
“Hi…” Toki stopped a few steps away and looked up at him.
Muichirou turned around. For a few seconds, he looked at her silently, as if trying to remember.
“She… was crying then. Because of me.”
“Hi,” he answered softly, almost uncertainly. For the first time, there was no coldness in his voice.
She took a step closer.
“How’s your shoulder?”
He lowered his gaze, as if about to say something important but just shrugged.
“Fine now.”
Suddenly she realized how tight her throat felt from the tension she hadn’t noticed before.
“I learned a lot today… about hunters,” she said, swallowing hard. “And also, I wanted to ask… can I go out without permission? To the store, for example? I thought I had to ask all this time.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
“You have the bracelet. You can go out whenever you want.”
“Right…” She shivered.
“So I was just sitting here like a fool, afraid to leave…”
Muichirou looked at her silently. Then suddenly said,
“I want to buy something at the café nearby.”
Toki blinked.
“What?”
“Let’s go,” he put his hands in his pockets and started walking forward.
“Y-yeah,” she hurried after him still hardly believing this was really happening.
When they found themselves in the shade of trees under the warm glow of street lamps, Toki spoke to him again.
“So… Am I really your tsuguko?”
He walked a little ahead then turned his head over his shoulder.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Toki paused for a second.
“Damn… it’s true.”
She didn’t want to be anyone’s possession, part of a system that breaks people into roles. But his voice wasn’t commanding. Not someone stamping a label. Just stating a fact. Muichirou turned around.
“I wouldn’t train you if it wasn’t an order. You’re weak.”
“Eh?” She froze as if struck by electricity.
He shrugged without taking his eyes off her.
“I never take apprentices. But since it turned out this way…”
“How should I address you then? Formal? Like with the others?”
She recalled the respectful form used with Hashiras and students.
He stopped and looked toward the café windows.
“Whatever you want.” He noticed the confusion on her face and added: “I don’t like formalities. You can call me by my name.”
“Alright,” she replied quietly.
They went inside. Without hesitation, Muichirou went to the counter.
“Honey latte.”
He turned to her — she was a little surprised by his sweet choice.
“Will you have anything?”
“I… black coffee, please.”
He nodded, paid, and pointed to a table by the window.
“Sit.”
Toki settled at the edge of the couch and at that moment realized — she’d forgotten her money.
“How embarrassing.”
While she was nervously sorting through her thoughts, he was already back with the tray.
“I’ll pay you back at the headquarters. Definitely.”
He placed the cup in front of her and sat opposite.
“No need.”
“But…”
“You’re my tsuguko,” he raised his gaze. There was no irony or harshness in his eyes. Just a fact.
Toki lowered her head.
“Why do his words sometimes make it even harder to breathe?”
They drank in silence. Muichirou occasionally glanced at her. For the first time, he noticed how uniquely beautiful the mole under her cheekbone was. Or how her pupils softly blended with the greenery pattern in her iris.
“That’s all,” he said, standing up. “I need to get back to headquarters. Let’s go.”
They left together. Muichirou didn’t look back, but today he walked slowly so she could keep pace.
She didn’t know how to end this evening but didn’t want him to leave silently.
“Th-thanks for the coffee… Muichirou.”
He looked at her — briefly, without a smile. But his gaze lingered on her face a little longer than necessary.
“See you, Toki.”
He walked ahead dissolving into the twilight. She stayed standing, feeling a little lighter inside.
Notes:
I kinda mixed a little Kimetsu lore with Jujutsu-style magic, sooo it turned into this funny blend lol. This chapter feels soft and a bit sad at the same time, but it was really comforting to write.
The next one will be very warm and gentle 🤍
Chapter 9: Tangerine lemonade
Summary:
A gentle chapter filled with warmth and a touch of romance — quiet moments, new encounters, and just a hint of mystery. 🌸
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Today Toki was supposed to meet her new physical training instructor.
“I think he mentioned something about Mitsuri Kanroji back then. From what I gathered from the other students’ conversations, this girl is also a Hashira. At the trial there were only two women. The one who took my blood, and another — with bright pink hair and green tips. Could it really be her?”
Toki got up from her bed and decided to put on her training outfit right away. She wore dark leggings with shorts over them, a slightly cropped loose white T-shirt, and tied her long hair up in a messy bun so it wouldn’t get in the way. On her feet, she slipped on sneakers. As she dressed Toki caught sight of a faint silhouette on her shoulder — the shape of a lily.
“That flower again… it’s appeared on my shoulder. I should ask about it…”
The girl stepped out of her room and headed toward the training grounds. From what she understood, Mitsuri was supposed to have an individual session with her—for now she was nowhere near the level of the other trainees.
On her way, she passed the dojo where swordsmanship classes were held, the same place where Muichirou had tested her abilities. Toki caught sight of the disheveled-haired swordsman who during her trial had demanded her execution. He swung his blade sharply, striking a blond-haired student—Zenitsu—with a painful blow.
“That’s horrible. Are my sword lessons going to be that brutal too?” she thought, her eyes stinging with tears.
Toki hurried along making her way down to the circular track field in the hollow of the headquarters. A girl was already waiting for her there.
Mitsuri was tall and noticeably curvy with soft lines and an impressive breast that was impossible not to notice—especially in her tight pink sports top with a deep neckline. Her matcha-green biker shorts hugged her thighs snugly highlighting her figure, while pink sneakers added a sense of girlish charm and energy. Her long hair was braided into two thick plaits fading from strawberry pink into mint green—like a scoop of strawberry and pistachio ice cream.
“She looks… so bright...”
Toki thought as she approached the girl who was in the middle of stretching.
She bowed politely.
“Hello. You must be Mitsuri Kanroji?”
“Oh!” Mitsuri gasped cheerfully, pressing her palms to her cheeks. “You’re adorable! Back then, it was too dark, I couldn’t see you properly! I’m so happy we have a new trainee! I can’t believe it—aww!” She trembled with excitement. “Let’s go to a café together sometime and have some cake! Promise me, okay? I love sweets! And I already love you!”
Toki stood frozen like a post unsure how to react.
“O-okay…”
Mitsuri suddenly remembered that Toki had greeted her.
“Oh, sorry! I’m Mitsuri Kanroji, the Love Hashira! Muichirou-kun told me you need lots of training to become stronger so I’ll be the one to take care of you!” She pressed her fingertip against her lips, tilting her head. “By the way… if I think about it, Muichirou-kun has never taken on a student before. Could it be…?”
Her cheeks flushed red and she grabbed her face with both hands shaking her head quickly.
“Oh my gosh, that’s just so cute! Muichirou-kun is amazing!”
Toki stood there utterly bewildered not knowing how to respond to such an outburst.
“Excuse me… What are we going to do today?”
The pink hair girl snapped out of it, still blushing, and announced the plan.
“Today we’ll start with a light warm-up so I can see what your body is capable of. Basically,” she stood straight across from Toki, “just follow me.”
Toki straightened up, and Mitsuri began the stretches.
“Doesn’t seem too hard,” Toki thought, smiling faintly to herself.
“Okay, now that we’ve warmed up a little, it’s time for some real exercise!” Mitsuri said cheerfully, eyes closed as if it was nothing.
“You’ll need to run ten laps around the track. Just a little. Then, about fifty push-ups and pull-ups should be fine.”
Toki’s jaw nearly dropped—that was insane.
“Fifty push-ups and ten laps?!”
"Yep! That’s not too much. You can do it!” Mitsuri gave her a thumbs up and winked.
Amida sighed heavily but didn’t argue. She looked at the field and realized ten laps meant more than ten kilometers. Just the thought of it nearly made her cry but she steeled her resolve and took her place at the starting line.
Mitsuri whistled and Toki began to run.
The first lap went by relatively easily. By the second, her legs started to cramp. On the third, real problems began—her breathing grew ragged, her legs felt like lead, and her head throbbed. Toki had never done sports in her life. For her, this was almost impossible.
By the fifth lap, she stopped—barely able to breathe.
“Tired already? You’ve never done sports before, have you?”
“Never…” she gasped out.
“Ah, you should’ve told me from the start.”
“So he didn’t explain anything to her…” Toki thought, remembering Muichirou, shaking her head faintly.
“Well then, let’s take a break. Afterward, I’ll show you a few basic exercises. They’ll be the foundation for your training.”
Toki nodded, dreading what else might be waiting for her.
But in the end, Mitsuri really did turn out to be a caring instructor. She showed her a set of exercises meant to build muscle strength.
“You’re so cute, just like a spring flower,” Mitsuri said with a smile. “It looks like the wind could blow you away at any moment. Such a cutie.”
“The wind could blow me away…” Toki repeated softly a little sadly.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it over time—it’ll get easier. I think that’s enough for today. Go rest.”
Mitsuri waved and jogged off toward the students coming back from sword training—all of them covered in bruises.
“Guys! I’m coming!”
“God, I’m going to die here,” Toki thought. “I just love history and science… not this. Ugh… but I don’t really have a choice.”
She stood up and immediately felt a sharp ache all over her body from the strain.
“I need to make it to that bench. Let’s go.”
Muichirou arrived at headquarters. He wanted to check on his tsuguku’s training so he immediately headed toward the practice field.
From a distance, he noticed Toki sitting on a bench, clearly exhausted. Her face looked worn-out, her posture awkward, as if every muscle in her body ached. She had her eyes closed and her hands resting limply at her sides.
Nearby, Muichirou spotted a vending machine.
"She won’t mind, will she?"
He chose a drink that caught his attention: a tangerine-flavored lemonade. The bright orange bottle seemed cheerful enough to lift her spirits.
Toki was so tired that she didn’t even notice him approach.
“Here.” He pressed the cold bottle lightly against her forehead.
She looked up meeting his turquoise eyes, then realized he’d bought her a drink — probably because he’d noticed her exhaustion.
“Th-thank you,” she said, taking the bottle. A moment later, she jerked her head in surprise. “Ah! I forgot to say — hello!”
“Hello,” Muichirou replied calmly.
He sat down beside her watching as she eagerly drank.
“This is so good! I’ve never had tangerine lemonade before. Is it new?” She examined the bottle then turned back to him with a soft smile. “Thank you, really… I feel so much better. So refreshing!”
He kept his eyes on her. On that gentle smile. Something inside him stirred — unusual, almost tender. Someone was thanking him simply for a small act of care. It felt… strange.
Toki stood, stretching lightly under his gaze.
“I feel much better now,” she said.
He watched her closely — her bare neck, her collarbones, the way her shirt lifted slightly to reveal her ribs and slender waist.
"She’s so delicate… like marble."
Her gaze shifted aside, and the sleeve of her shirt slipped off her shoulder, exposing the scar.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
He blinked out of his thoughts. She sat back down and tugged the fabric up, showing the mark.
“This morning… I saw something. For a moment, it looked like the outline of a lily on the scar. Today it’s fading, but… is it connected to a demon somehow?”
Her voice trembled.
Muichirou lowered his eyes to his hands, fingers intertwined.
“I didn’t tell you back then…” She stared at him in confusion. “That night, near the temple,” he recalled the mission, the memory unpleasant, “you manifested your ability for the first time. You… helped me.”
“What? How did I help you?”
“You healed me. That cut closed in seconds — it left no scar. I think you have the power to heal wounds. And that lily… it must appear when your ability is released. Why it takes that form I don’t know yet.”
Toki fell silent, frowning.
"Why didn’t you tell me?..”
“I don’t know.”
The words hung between them, heavy. He felt strangely uneasy.
She sighed, giving a faint, bittersweet smile.
“At least… I can heal people. That’s not so bad.”
Muichirou exhaled and then noticed someone with flame hair approaching.
“Hey there! Toki-chan, how are you?”
“Hello, Rengoku-san. I’m fine, thank you,” she answered with a smile.
Muichirou glanced at her again.
“Muichirou,” Kyojurou said firmly. “Come with me. We need to talk.”
He stood.
“See you,” he told Toki.
“See you.”
Following Kyojurou, they moved far enough away to be unheard. Then Rengoku asked in a serious tone:
“So… you’ve seen her powers?”
“Yes,” Muichirou replied calmly. “I reported it to Oyakata-sama right after that mission.”
“Strange. Nothing’s been passed to me,” the Flame Hashira frowned. “And I’m the one in charge of Toki-chan’s case.”
He fell into thought, his brows furrowing.
“Rengoku-san? Is something wrong?” Tokitou asked.
“I’m not sure… but I have a bad feeling. Always stay on guard, understood?”
Muichirou blinked a bit unsettled.
“…Alright.”
Kyojurou let out a breath, then smiled.
“Help me with something? It’s been a while since we worked together. I need to sketch a portrait of a potential enemy.”
Muichirou agreed, and the two of them spent the rest of the evening working side by side in Kyojurou’s office.
“I’ll head out,” the young man said, handing over the drawing.
“Yes! Thank you! Oh, by the way—could you give these mochi to Toki-chan? I think she really liked them.”
Muichirou glanced at the table where a box of sweets stood.
“You bought them for her?” he asked, his tone a little unusual even for himself.
“No. Yesterday, after my training, we had tea together. Toki-chan seemed very down. Senjurou had made these for me but I’d like her to have them instead. She’s really going through a lot...” Rengoku explained. “So? Will you take them to her?”
Muichirou nodded and walked up to the table.
“Alright.”
Rengoku smiled and pushed the box closer.
“She’s probably resting in her room.”
Tokitou nodded again, picked up the box and left the office. It was already late—the night sky was covered in stars. He always loved looking at the sky.
When he reached the women’s quarters, he found Toki’s room. Luckily, no one crossed his path in the corridor.
She opened the door and blinked in surprise.
“Muichirou? Did something happen?”
He shook his head.
“No,” he said, holding out the box. “Rengoku-san asked me to bring this to you.”
Toki accepted the box from his hands and quickly realized what it was—the same sweets. She smiled softly; the gesture from Kyoujurou felt truly comforting.
Then she looked at Muichirou—who was quietly watching her.
“Do you want to keep me company? I doubt I can finish them all by myself.”
He agreed. Quickly. Almost too quickly even for him.
“Come in then. I’ll make us some tea. Wait just a little, okay? I need to grab something from the hall.”
He nodded and sat down on her bed. It feels peaceful here, he thought, letting his gaze wander across the room.
Though Toki hadn’t lived here long, she had already filled the simple space with warmth and comfort. Books were everywhere—so many books. On the desk sat a computer, clearly used for her studies. Muichirou noticed an open book lying on the bed.
The Epic of Gilgamesh.
"She studies history… maybe she’s reading it for university."
His eyes landed on the small lamp glowing on her desk.
Toki returned and caught his gaze.
“Since that night… when the demon dragged me into the darkness, I think I’ve been afraid of it. That’s why I don’t turn the light off,” she explained, handing him a cup of tea.
She then opened the box of mochi—two pieces inside. It was almost as if Rengoku had guessed she’d invite Muichirou to share them.
Placing the box between them she picked up one.
“They really are the tastiest,” she said.
He nodded then asked quietly.
“Why do you like history? Personally, I think it’s pretty boring.”
Toki laughed.
“I noticed at the lecture you were drawing in your notebook instead of taking notes,” she teased. “I’ve loved history since childhood—probably inherited that love from my grandfather who raised me. History draws me in with its mysteries; there’s still so much humanity has yet to uncover. That’s fascinating. Oh, by the way, you’ve been drawing since forever, right? Rengoku-san told me you’ve loved it since you were a child.”
Muichirou guessed that Kyoujurou must have mentioned a few things about him, but he didn’t mind.
“Yes, I’ve been drawing since I was little. It calms me.”
“That’s so interesting,” she said, resting her cheek against her hand. “You must draw a lot, then?”
“Yes. I have plenty of sketches at home,” he replied, glancing at the book on her bed. “What book is that?”
Toki blinked, then smiled.
“One of the earliest books in human history—the Epic of Gilgamesh. About a hero, a demigod king, who gained wisdom through a difficult journey.”
Muichirou looked at the book once more.
“I’m writing research paper on ancient literature. My field is centered around the history of ancient civilizations.”
“I see…”
He watched her as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He realized he liked looking at her—though he didn’t know why.
A faint discomfort stirred inside him. Finishing his tea, he stood up.
“It’s late already. I should go.”
“Thank you for bringing me the mochi. Good night, Muichirou.”
He said his goodbye and asked a kakushi to escort him home.
After a shower, he sat at his desk, which was cluttered with papers. Taking a pencil in hand, he absentmindedly began to sketch. When he finally looked down, he realized—it was her. His hand had drawn her wrapped in lilies and stories. He stared at the picture for a while, then sighed.
This night Toki had already fallen asleep. This time no nightmares came to her—only a dream of a field, covered in blue spider lilies.
Meanwhile in the park near the university something strange and dangerous had taken root. It lingered in the shadows, biding its time.
“My master’s blood makes me stronger with each passing day… which means the true hunt will soon begin.”
Notes:
Chapters like this feel like a little island of peace for me, a moment of rest before something more intense. 🌙
Chapter 10: Shadows of Ueno. Part I
Summary:
Hey guys! The new chapter is here 🫶
Muichirou and Toki set out on a mission where people have been mysteriously disappearing. Will everything go well? And who is watching them from the shadows?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Time went on. April ended, along with the season of blossoming fruit trees.
The wisteria had now taken over, coloring everything in soft, mysterious shades of violet. IIt grew in abundance around the headquarters. According to ancient tradition, the plant was said to protect humans from demons. That was why it had been planted there so carefully, in such numbers.
Muichirou sometimes trained Toki. Over the course of a month, her physical abilities improved slightly—at the very least, she could now run three kilometers without collapsing. Mitsuri often praised her and shared sweets with her after training.
“By the way, Toki-chan, I heard that Rengoku-san helps you out a lot and always cheers you on. Isn’t he amazing? I’m so happy I was his tsuguko!” Mitsuri once confessed while sitting on a bench after practice.
“You were his tsuguko?” Toki asked, surprised.
“Uh-huh! Not for long, though. We share the same type of magic—flame! Though mine is different, of course. I’m not a descendant of the Rengoku clan. Back then, Muichirou-kun was also living at their estate and even went on missions with us. A few times—together with me. It was so much fun! I wish I could go back to those days and enjoy tea at Rengoku-san’s home again…” Mitsuri’s eyes sparkled with dreamy nostalgia, until her cheeks suddenly flushed bright red. “Wait—you’re Muichirou-kun’s tsuguko, right? You know, he’s so cool! Handsome, and also a genius. He was always popular with girls, but never let anyone get close. But, Toki-chan, I feel like he treats you differently…” Her whole face turned red as she pressed her palms against her cheeks. “Could it be that he…?”
She shook her head furiously. Toki blinked in confusion and asked:
“Kanroji-san, are you feeling alright?”
“Y-yeah… sorry, I just imagined something…”
“Something?” Toki tilted her head.
“Yes! He’s so cold and strong, and she’s so gentle and fragile! Oh my gosh! I can’t—!” Mitsuri shut her eyes tightly with a blissful smile.
Toki tilted her head a little further and silently waited until the Love Hashira calmed down.
“Alrighty! Toki-chan, it’s time—you’ve got sword training with Muichirou-kun. I’m sure he’s waiting! Off you go!”
“R-right…” Toki felt Mitsuri pushing her toward the fencing hall, clearly excited about something.
"She’s so strange," Toki thought as she went to find Muichirou.
When it came to swordsmanship, though, things were different. Muichirou still held himself back, knowing she wasn’t cut out for it.. The problem wasn’t really Toki. The real reason he never took disciples… was himself. Muichirou was a genius, and his overwhelming level discouraged students. They always ended up feeling worthless in comparison. That was why he had never taught anyone—and as a result, he had no idea how to teach. His abilities seemed to have been born with him, as if the god of war himself had placed that power in his hands.
Toki didn’t mind. She never aimed to be anyone special in the Corps anyway. On missions, she carefully observed and sometimes even helped—like distracting an enemy. Though Muichirou never really needed her help. Still, duty was duty.
One thing never changed: her power hadn’t manifested again.
One day, Kyojurou asked Muichirou to come to headquarters—he wanted to discuss an upcoming mission.
“Hello there!” Rengoku greeted him cheerfully at the entrance. He was dressed in a classic suit and white shirt. “How are you? You seem happier these days, Muichirou.”
Muichirou gave him a questioning look and shrugged.
“Hello. I haven’t really thought about it.”
Kyojurou smiled.
“Well then, let’s go. We need to talk.”
They entered his office. Kyojurou sat down at his desk and gestured for Muichirou to sit on the sofa opposite.
“Lately, troubling reports have been piling up. The number of victims is rising, demon activity is increasing. But most importantly, we’re seeing more demons with unique abilities. In some cases, there are suspicions of Lower Moons among them. We’ll be going on a mission connected to one of these cases.”
“And what’s unusual about that?” Muichirou asked calmly. “It seems like this has happened before.”
The Flame Hashira let out a breath and smiled faintly.
“I hope you’re right. But still, we should treat these missions with greater caution. And by the way, Toki-chan will be joining us—it’s an order from above.”
Muichirou felt uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to be involved in a mission where a Lower Moon might be present. But an order was an order. Even as a Hashira, he couldn’t change everything.
Kyojurou noticed the shadow on his face.
“Anyway, today we need to head to a certain place. Near Ueno Park, people have been disappearing mysteriously over the past week. And the hunters sent to investigate haven’t returned. We need to find out the source of the attacks and try to save anyone we can. The demon is to be eliminated on site. Please go fetch Toki-chan. She should already know she’s assigned to this mission, but just in case, I’d like you to go to her yourself.”
Muichirou stood and made his way toward the women’s quarters.
Toki was already ready, as if expecting this. She understood she’d be going on a mission today—though what kind, she couldn’t imagine. Since becoming tsuguko, she had been obliged to accompany Muichirou even on the most dangerous missions. It was mostly symbolic, but the Corps wasn’t quick to break its traditions.
He knocked. She opened the door almost instantly, as if she already knew who it was, and gave him a gentle smile.
“Good morning, Muichirou.”
“Morning. Let’s go—Rengoku-san is waiting.”
They walked in silence. Muichirou didn’t bother to explain the details of the mission. But Kyojurou understood, so when Toki arrived in his office, he briefly explained what lay ahead.
“I’d like you to record witness testimonies,” Kyojurou said.
Toki nodded. She was nervous—encountering a Lower Moon could mean anything.
Catching the unease in her eyes, Rengoku reassured her warmly:
“Toki-chan, you don’t need to worry. Muichirou and I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He glanced at the Mist Hashira. “Right?”
“Yeah,” Muichirou answered curtly, looking into her eyes.
His gaze told her there was nothing to fear… but not to let her guard down either.
They arrived at the park around noon.
It had been closed off; the Corps hunters told civilians that a lion had escaped from the zoo nearby. Everything was well organized—there was no panic. People strolled past, oblivious to the real danger. Nothing supernatural was suspected. The secrecy was perfect, as it should be.
Toki held a tablet with maps and forms. Muichirou walked beside her—silent, detached. He didn’t like such assignments, never good at dealing with people. But Toki handled it well.
“Excuse me,” she approached a middle-aged woman holding a poodle. She clearly lived nearby. “Do you often walk here? Have you noticed anything unusual over the past week?”
The woman raised her brows.
“Well… no, not really… though… there was that girl. A student, I think. Purple hair. She always jogged here in the mornings. And then she just disappeared. About a week ago, I suppose. I thought she simply went away.”
“Where did you last see her?”
“By the old pavilion near the pond. She often stretched there, blasting music in her headphones—you could hear it across half the park.”
Toki jotted it down.
The next was a man in his forties with a camera—a hobbyist photographer. He looked uneasy, as if waiting to see how this all would end, whether the ‘lion’ would be caught.
“I was taking pictures of the wisteria by the water that day. Wanted to catch the reflection… And then—I saw a figure. I thought it was an animal. I even took a shot, I think…”
He nervously flipped through his photos. But the one he remembered wasn’t there.
“That’s impossible,” he muttered. “I know I pressed the button…”
Muichirou listened quietly, then cut him off in his usual cold tone.
“This conversation is over. You may leave.”
“But—”
The Mist Hashira’s icy gaze froze the words in his throat. He quickly decided not to argue.
Toki looked at him questioningly.
“It happens,” Muichirou said softly. “Some demons distort technology. Cameras can’t always capture them.”
They then spoke to one of the hunters who had been sent out earlier. A thin young man with a bandaged arm began to recount his story.
“We went scouting three days ago,” he said, staring at the ground. “Everything was quiet… until my partner approached one of the burrows. He just… vanished. No sound. I didn’t even have time to draw my sword. I ran.”
He looked at the Mist Hashira with shame and fear of judgment. But Muichirou said nothing.
“Did you hear a voice? Sense anything?” Toki asked gently.
“No… just like… someone else’s breathing. Cold. And silence.”
Muichirou, standing a bit aside, was listening carefully.
“No blood?” he asked.
“Not a drop.”
“I see.”
Just then Kyojurou joined them, thinking aloud:
“This could be a Void-Space technique, demon domain” he said. “Only Moons can sustain it consistently. Especially if they’re in contact with the ground. What do you think, Muichirou?”
Muichirou nodded.
“The demon hides them in its own dimension. Otherwise, the bodies—or at least parts of them—would have surfaced by now.”
A chill went down Toki’s spine.
Nearby, a specialist in seals approached and bowed slightly.
“Tokito-dono, Rengoku-dono, the sealing array is almost complete. Only a few points remain on the eastern side. Would you like to inspect them?”
“Of course.” Kyojurou smiled. “We’ll be right there.”
Toki glanced at the map, biting her lip.
The day was leaning toward dusk. The hunters were doing their work. Headquarters had assigned several spellcasters who were now placing seals—fixing them to trees, lampposts, even beneath benches.
Muichirou walked silently ahead, while Toki followed close behind, glancing around. Despite the ordinary park — thickets, a pond, worn paths — everything felt… wrong. As if someone were watching them.
“Tokitou-dono, the seals have been placed,” one of the spellcasters reported quietly, bowing slightly as he approached.
Muichirou gave a short nod.
“Good.”
Toki hugged the tablet with the map of placements to her chest and turned toward Rengoku, who was in the middle of discussing barrier arrangements with another hunter.
“Excuse me, Rengoku-san… What about the barrier? Aren’t we going to use it?”
The Flame Hashira turned to her, his warm smile making it seem as though the question hadn’t surprised him, but pleased him.
“A good question, Toki-chan. The barrier isn’t always effective against powerful demons. They…” He paused briefly, searching for the right words. “They can sense the difference between an artificial night and a true one. Some even manage to find a gap, slip outside the barrier, or avoid being caught at all. We can’t risk that. So tonight—we work under natural conditions. We’ll wait for the real night to fall.”
“I see…” Toki whispered, clutching her sleeve between her fingers.
Muichirou said nothing. But sensing her unease, he stepped closer so she wouldn’t feel alone. She noticed, felt his elbow brush lightly against her arm. Strangely, it calmed her.
By evening, the clouds had thickened. The sky sagged heavy and gray, as if burdened by what was coming. The park sank into a deep, viscous silence. Only the branches of wisteria stirred, as though shivering.
“Rengoku-san,” Muichirou suddenly said, pointing to the ground beneath one of the trees.
Toki bent down. A small, almost unnoticeable hollow. Nearby—another. And another. They stretched deeper into the park.
“These look like… mole burrows?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Rengoku replied, crouching beside her. He ran his fingers over the soil. “But no animal made these.”
He grew pensive, staring into the distance where the chain of burrows disappeared.
"Could it really be that this demon has its own dimension? Like a Moon…" The thought flickered with unease.
“It’s time,” Kyojurou commanded.
The three of them moved on. The seals had begun to shimmer with a faint glow—like fireflies marking the border between worlds.
Muichirou walked without a word, his gaze sharp and focused. He could feel the air itself tense. The sensation of being watched would not leave him.
“Mist Hashira,” Kyojurou turned to the young man, his tone half-serious, half-encouraging, “I believe you’ve already guessed that your concealment in the mist will be crucial for this mission. The demon must not realize it’s being watched. If it does… we risk losing it.”
“Yeah. Got it.” Muichirou calmly drew his snow-white blade from its sheath.
They reached the location mentioned in the reports — the very place where people had gone missing.
“They’ve done a fine job! No unnecessary traces, everything prepared for the investigation. We must give Iguro’s men their due — they’ve handled their part excellently!” Praising the team aloud, Rengoku then turned to Muichirou. “Well then, are you ready?”
“Yes,” the boy replied simply.
Suddenly, the space around them was swallowed by a thick mist. Toki’s eyes widened in surprise. She had accompanied him on missions before, yet never once had he revealed this technique.
Muichirou walked ahead, his movements steady, while Rengoku, smiling, gestured for Toki to follow. Inside the mist, everything was silent — soundless, weightless, as if they had stepped into another dimension. The whiteness seemed natural, like a true phenomenon of nature.
They moved in silence, scanning their surroundings with sharpened senses.
Muichirou stopped first.
“There’s something strange here. I’ll check.”
“Wait! You feel it too — that’s a demon’s dimension. Don’t tell me you plan to jump right in?”
Muichirou didn’t answer.
“Muichirou! The first thing they teach every hunter — never step into a demon’s domain! You don’t know its power. Getting out may be far harder than entering. I shouldn’t need to explain something so basic to a Hashira!”
“I know,” he said flatly, continuing deeper into the mist without hesitation. “I didn’t become a Hashira by cowering. I have my own way of destroying demons, Rengoku-san. I dislike wasting time.”
“Ahh… what am I to do with you,” Kyojurou sighed, then relented. “Fine. Do as you will — but be careful.”
“Should I… go with him?” Toki asked softly.
Muichirou shook his head and vanished into the haze.
Rengoku looked down at the girl.
“Toki-chan, stay close to me. It’s growing dangerous here — you can feel it too, can’t you?”
She nodded. The air was heavier now, charged with menace.
“Good.” Kyojurou’s tone softened. “It’s no easy trial, being his tsuguko. But even so, he would never take you into a place like that. It’s too perilous. He has his own ways… and he’s strong. Do not worry for him.”
“…Alright,” she whispered.
He still charges ahead, never thinking of his own life. And yet… I still believe. Someday he’ll change. Someday he’ll learn to care about himself.
Kyojurou watched the place where Muichirou had disappeared, then turned away, scanning the area.
Fifteen minutes later, he and Toki found something unsettling at the park’s center: a hole in the ground.
“So. Exactly what I was searching for… Toki-chan, step back.”
At the same time, high upon a nearby building, someone was standing — human or not entirely human. But one thing was certain: there was no hiding from their gaze.
“Well, well! Two Hashira at once!” the watcher exclaimed with childlike delight. “And they look genuinely frightened. They must suspect something.” A bright, ringing voice carried into the air, though no one below could hear it. “How sweet, almost touching… So serious, so eager to protect the innocent. Ah! I do love watching hunters perform their noble duty. What could be more delightful than watching professionals at work? So then—what will you do? No, no, no, that’s not what matters. What are you hiding yourselves?”
The iris of their eye gleamed in the night, and a kaleidoscope of vivid colors cast a predatory gaze toward Ueno Park.
Show me everything and do not disappoint me—I’m ever so sensitive…”
Notes:
Finally reached this point and introduced a new character — he’s pure charisma and definitely plotting something very intriguing.
Chapter 11: Shadows of Ueno. Part II
Summary:
The battle in Ueno Park rages on, with demons and hunters clashing in a deadly struggle. All the while, a mysterious figure watches from the shadows… What will be the outcome of this encounter?
Notes:
Hi everyone! I post the new chapter later today — it’s been a busy day. The chapter came out long, but I got so carried away while writing it. Although writing battle descriptions is still a bit challenging for me 😅 hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Text
Kyojurou watched the place where Muichirou had disappeared, then turned away scanning the area.
Fifteen minutes later, he and Toki found something unsettling at the park’s center: a hole in the ground.
“So. Exactly what I was searching for… Toki-chan, step back.”
Toki obeyed. Kyojurou unsheathed his sword. The blade flared in his hands, glowing like molten steel. Driving it into the earth, he forced the hole to widen, spreading like a wound in the ground. With swift reflexes, he scooped Toki into his arms and leapt aside.
“That was close. Are you hurt, Toki-chan?”
“No…” she shook her head, wide-eyed. “Rengoku-san, what is that… enormous hole?”
“As Muichirou said, the demon truly is there he went. And this…” He pointed at the expanding pit. “This is its lair. Where it hides its victims. Without doubt — the work of a Lower Moon.”
“Lower Moon…?” Toki repeated, not fully grasping the term.
“Ah, right. I didn’t explain before. We Hashira hunt demons of greater strength — those born strong or those who have refined their monstrous power. Among them the most dangerous are the Moons. We don’t know exactly how many exist but their numbers grow. There are Lower Moons — newer demons gifted with overwhelming power — and Upper Moons, ancient ones, centuries old. Few but each one… is terrifying beyond words. In decades past, none of them have ever been slain… though they rarely appear themselves.”
“I see… And, Rengoku-san, what makes a Hashira different from the others? Is it just strength? Talent? Or is there… something more?”
Kyojurou smiled faintly.
“Hm. Often, yes, it’s talent — people like Muichirou become Hashira. But in truth: every hunter has a limit. We must train endlessly to awaken our abilities. It’s usually clear who has the potential — such hunters are often taken as tsuguko. But strength alone is not enough. When we cross the line… there is always a price. The peak of our strength can cost us dearly.” He paused, something shadowed flickering in his bright eyes. “…Though, there are exceptions.”
Toki lowered her gaze, lips pressing together, but she dared ask one more question.
“Rengoku-san, what do you mean by ‘cross the line’ and—”
She never finished. From the hole, twisted shapes began to crawl, grotesque things that were once human.
“Toki-chan! Stay by my side!”
Rengoku’s sword flared like fire as he took his stance.
Meanwhile, Muichirou advanced through the mist, attuned to every shift around him. This demon’s dimension was different — nearly identical to the real world. The only difference: the ground was littered with stones, jagged and countless, as if he stood on a mountainside.
The true danger of higher demons lay in this ability — reshaping reality into their own battlefield. Their domains always favored them, and the destruction left behind inevitably bled into the human world.
“There’s no point hiding. I know where you are.” Muichirou raised his gaze to the treetops.
“…Impressive, Hashira. Then there’s no need for me to conceal myself.”
A hulking figure emerged before him, a massive demon whose shadow seemed to crush the space around them. Muichirou took a step back, katana steady in his hands.
“You realize you are inside my domain?”
“Of course. I came here myself.”
“So young… and so fearless. Admirable. I am newly named a Lower Moon. Already, I’ve killed countless hunters. But you—” the demon’s eyes gleamed, “—you are the first Hashira I’ve faced.”
“How tedious.” Muichirou’s voice was cold. “Your chatter is dull.”
In an instant, he lunged, blade flashing. The demon dodged, laughing.
“Impatient little one. Very well — I won’t hold back!”
The beast’s attacks rained like lightning, his massive arms striking with terrifying speed.
“Fast. Strong. But with such a body, there’s no way he can escape me,” Muichirou calculated swiftly.
“Sea of Clouds and Haze,” he intoned.
The fog thickened, swallowing the demon’s sight. Muichirou vanished from view.
“Hide-and-seek?” the demon sneered.
“No.”
The boy appeared from the void of whiteness, blade slicing across the demon’s left shoulder.
“Missed… The next strike will be the last.”
Howling, the demon staggered back.
“Pathetic human! You’ll regret that!”
He slammed his fist into the ground. The earth crumbled beneath Muichirou’s feet, forcing him to leap upward onto a branch. Without pause, a massive stone hurtled at him. He twisted away, only for more boulders to follow, one after another, crashing through the mist.
“Little pest! I’ll tear away your footing!”
Slamming both fists down, the demon shattered the ground. Trees toppled like brittle sticks. Muichirou landed lightly on the bare earth, blade gleaming in his hands.
Dozens of demons lunged at Kyojurou, knocking the swordsman off his feet. One of them, taking advantage of the chaos, slipped through and grabbed Toki.
"Aaah!” the girl screamed — but she managed to dodge the strike. Her training had not been in vain.
“Toki-chan, run!” — Kyojurou shouted, beheading the demon. — “I’ll hold them off!”
Toki got to her feet and quickly ran into the thick mist.
Rengoku slashed his palm with the blade, letting the scent of blood distract the horde and give the girl a chance to escape. The demons immediately turned to him, their hungry eyes fixed on the blood dripping from his hand.
“Perfect! Over here, all of you! I’m all yours!” — Rengoku yelled, eyes blazing with fervor as he gripped his katana tightly.
But when he prepared to unleash his fire — his clan’s secret ability — he noticed that many demons were sniffing the air turning toward the mist where the girl had vanished. As if obeying some command, they surged in that direction.
“What the hell…?”
The swordsman wasted no time and rushed after Toki.
Toki was running with all her strength. When she finally stopped, she checked that no one was chasing her and caught her breath.
“Thank goodness, they’ve fallen behind. I hope Rengoku-san is safe…”
Thinking the danger had passed, Toki lowered her guard. A demon leapt at her, knocking her to the ground.
Muichirou hadn’t remained down for long. He moved instantly, springing from collapsing pits underfoot. His movements seemed chaotic, yet Tokito had chosen his path with precision — swiftly closing the distance to the demon. Once close, he struck the Lower Moon with relentless attacks.
The demon grinned, animalistic and cruel.
“There were three of you. The red-haired one is fighting my puppet army — he’s a Hashira, strong enough. The girl is weak and waiting for her fate,” — he said, licking his lips with delight.
Muichirou’s eyes widened. Toki was in danger.
In the next instant, he vanished into the mist, becoming completely invisible.
“Where do you think you’re going?!”
A powerful blow crashed into him, sending him flying and smashing him into a fallen tree. Opening his eyes, he saw a barrage of boulders hurtling toward him.
Without hesitation, the hunter rose and dodged the rockfall — but it was impossible to avoid them all.
Dust mingled with mist. A sharp pain pierced his side.
“A rib… broken. I need to finish him quickly. He won’t let me leave his dimension. Rengoku-san was right — this place is dangerous.”
The boy got up, eyes fixed on his opponent. Gathering all his strength into the blade, he spread the mist over his sword, rendering it invisible.
He pointed the katana at the demon. His hand trembled from pain and bruises, but he was no novice. With a deep breath, he whispered.
“Shifting Flow Slash.”
He vanished — as if he had become mist itself.
The demon tensed, readying another rockfall, but failed to notice when the hunter appeared at his side.
The boy was visible — the sword was not.
The demon dodged, but the blade’s arc was wider. Pain tore through his chest — the sword pierced his heart.
“You won’t be showing off anymore,” Muichirou murmured.
The demon tried to speak, but his words were cut short as the blade sliced through his neck.
Muichirou fell to his knees, gasping, clutching his side.
“Tch…”
The demon's dimension shattered. No more stones or monoliths — only the battlefield littered with uprooted trees.
“I need to hurry. I’ve already wasted too much time.”
Toki stumbled — a monster loomed before her, approaching slowly.
“Am I really going to die like this?..” she thought, retreating.
She covered her face with her hands and didn’t notice a lily bloom across her shoulder. The demon froze.
“Toki-chan, move aside!”
She opened her eyes and saw a horde of demons. Twenty, maybe thirty — she couldn’t count. Kyojurou’s voice filled her with strength. She leapt away.
“Blazing Universe!”
His blade erupted in fire, so bright it was blinding.
Toki ran behind a tree for cover.
The noise ended quickly.
When she emerged, all the demons were beheaded, their bodies consumed by fire.
“Unbelievable…” The crimson flames danced in her emerald eyes.
“Toki-chan, are you hurt?”
She looked at the hunter. His face was marked with fiery tattoos, which faded almost instantly. Kyojurou understood her unspoken question and replied.
“You asked about 'crossing the line'. Thev ‘mark’? Once a hunter manifests it…” — he pointed to the last glowing ember on his skin, — “their strength multiplies. We become similar to demons. But a human body cannot endure such strain — our lives are shortened. Worse still, if we lose control of the mark, we fight like rabid dogs… until death.”
Rengoku’s tone was grave. His smile had vanished. His words carried the weight of fate — tragic, inevitable.
Toki understood the peril of these marks. Guilt twisted inside her — he had used such power for her sake.
“Rengoku-san… isn’t there anything you can do?”
“No. But Toki-chan”—he smiled—“don’t worry. We only call on this strength as a last resort.”
He ruffled her hair gently.
“Everything will be fine! Some hunters never awaken a mark, even as Hashira. Muichirou, for instance, is incredibly strong without it.” He glanced around. — “Speaking of which, where is he? He killed the demon, but hasn’t returned yet.”
As if on cue, Muichirou emerged from the mist, holding his ribs.
“There he is!” Rengoku went to him. — “Didn’t I tell you not to go alone? Now we’ll have to treat that rib.”
Toki saw his condition. Exhausted. Injured. In pain.
She reached toward him, silently begging the pain to ease, even for a moment. A faint warmth flared inside her chest — but vanished instantly, as if frightened.
“Muichirou, are you alright?” she asked worriedly, noticing his bruises and unsteady steps.
“Y-yeah,” he answered, catching her concern.
He could feel the power inside her pressing to break free — the same power that had saved him before. He wasn’t afraid of it, but he knew: if anyone else sensed it, Toki would become prey.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
She nodded, then turned to Kyojurou.
“Rengoku-san, thank you so much!” she bowed, hiding her face.
“Don’t dwell on it, Toki-chan.”
“Let’s go,” Muichirou said, wanting them taken back to headquarters quickly.
Toki glanced once more at Kyojurou and followed.
The Flame Hashira didn’t leave yet. He turned toward the battlefield and approached the massive hole.
A kakushi squad was pulling survivors out of the demon’s lair, giving them first aid.
Rengoku frowned.
“Muichirou killed a Moon… yet the demons still chased after her, even after his mist vanished. And why Toki-chan? I deliberately left my wound to distract them with blood, but they ignored it… This is strange. Too strange. I need answers. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Rengoku-dono! We rescued the last victim and administered treatment. We’ve also been informed that Tokito-dono’s injuries aren’t serious: bruises, abrasions, and a cracked rib. Nothing life-threatening!”
“Good job. Move quickly. Kochou should already be preparing everything for restoring the unturned.”
“Yes, sir!”
Rengoku lingered a moment longer by the black, night-like burrow, then finally turned back toward the car. Muichirou and Toki were waiting inside with the Kakushi unit.
They had been watched all along.
He sat cross-legged, like a child on a carpet, running a finger along the rim of a porcelain cup. A smile played on his lips, but his eyes remained narrowed, attentive—like a cat before a leap.
A small circle of paper covered with red sigils trembled on the surface of the water inside the cup. A faint pulse flickered, fragile as a moth’s breath, then vanished. A trace of power. Subtle, elusive, yet not false. Alive.
“Ah, there it is,” he whispered with a smile, never lifting his eyes.
He rose and walked unhurriedly to the window. Night had spilled over the city, Tokyo drowned in lights, but he was interested only in one glow—the fleeting spark that had flared and gone out in the heart of Ueno Park.
“So the hunters really are hiding something…” His fingers brushed the glass. “But no secret can stay hidden from me forever. Soon… we’ll finally meet.”
The white walls of the infirmary smelled sharp and clean—antiseptic and cloth. Toki sat on the floor with her knees drawn to her chest. The trembling in her body had not yet left, as though remnants of that foreign magic still clung to her skin.
The door clicked. She lifted her head.
Muichirou stepped out from the treatment room—shirt and jacket loosely draped over his shoulders, chest and stomach wrapped in fresh bandages. Toki’s gaze dropped instantly. It hurt to see him like this.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said suddenly. “It’s nothing. Just bandages.”
“I… I wasn’t—” she pressed herself tighter against the floor.
He lowered himself beside her, resting his head against the wall. For a few seconds, silence. Then:
“I felt your power.”
Toki’s eyes widened. He was staring straight ahead, voice calm, but tense.
“It was there,” he continued, “weak, but alive. At first I thought it was a trace of something foreign. But it was you.”
She nodded.
“Yes. But it fades quickly. I can’t hold it. It… comes on its own.”
Muichirou fell silent, fingers curling slowly against his knees.
“I fear someone may have noticed,” he said quietly. “Someone who mustn’t.”
Kyojurou’s warning echoed in his mind—that Toki must be protected, kept safe.
“You need to learn to control it,” he said at last, still not looking at her. “Otherwise they will find you.”
Toki listened in silence, eyes fixed on the floor. In the corner of her eye, something gleamed—not a tear, just a glint of light. She remembered Kyojurou’s words again. The Marks. Power. The cost.
“Muichirou…” her voice was fragile. “Do you know what Marks are?”
He nodded.
“Everyone seeks to awaken them,” he said, “Everyone who wants to grow stronger.”
“And what about you?”
He didn’t hesitate. He only nodded.
She hesitated, then whispered:
“But then… your life is in danger. The Marks shorten it.”
He met her gaze. Direct, without pity.
“Everything has a price.”
He said it so simply, so calmly. But Toki felt a sudden cold settle in her chest. The words spread through her like ripples beneath her skin. “Everything has a price.” He lived so close to that truth it was frightening.
She hugged her knees tighter. Cold… or maybe it only seemed that way.
Without a word, Muichirou slipped off his blazer and gently draped it over her shoulders. It was warm, carrying his scent—rain, something evergreen. He didn’t touch her, didn’t add another word. He just stayed beside her.
“Thank you, Muichirou… I will become stronger. I don’t want anyone to sacrifice themselves—their life, their time—for me. I promise…”
He said nothing, and in that silence, Toki heard his quiet support.
That night, Toki could hardly sleep. She pressed her face into the pillow, clutching Muichirou’s blazer close, her fingers gripping the fabric as if it were the only shield against the dark.
In her dream, she stood among spider lilies. An endless field—blue, mist-shrouded, barely visible. Petals quivered in a windless air, heavy and still. The lilies stretched to the horizon, and far away—almost at the edge of the world—stood a lone figure.
She walked toward it. Through tall grass, through flowers that felt alive. They opened and turned toward her, as if following her steps.
A chime rang through the sky—like a thousand tiny bells. The lilies swayed as if in farewell. From the mist, from a fracture between worlds, a dark silhouette tore free.
Toki woke, gasping for breath. The room was dark, a thin line of light seeping through the doorframe.
She wiped her face, feeling cold cling to her skin. Muichirou’s blazer lay beside her. Her fingers trembled, but she clutched the fabric tighter. In her head, the words echoed:
“Everything has a price...”
Chapter 12: Suspection
Summary:
After the heavy mission in Ueno everyone needs rest. But Kyoujurou thinks otherwise—and it seems he has begun to suspect something.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It had been only a short while since the battle in Ueno.
After everything that happened it felt as though Toki had exhaled—only to gasp again right after. The fear remained inside her, but along with it, something else had awakened: determination. From that day on, she trained desperately, refusing to be a burden.
The truth about the hunters’ Marks had opened her eyes: the world was far more complex and merciless than ordinary people could ever imagine. A fragile balance was held together by those willing to pay for it with their very lives. And now she understood—there was no turning back. She no longer belonged to that naïve world.
Something was growing within her. Power. Unfamiliar, yet inevitable.
She was running, lost in these thoughts, so absorbed that she almost missed Mitsuri’s whistle.
“Toki-chan! That’s enough for today!”
Toki stopped, leaning on her knees, breath heavy.
“It’s all so complicated…” flashed through her mind.
“Are you alright?” Mitsuri came closer.
“Yes, I’m fine. I was just… thinking,” Toki answered softly, straightening her shoulders.
“Mmm.” Mitsuri hummed thoughtfully, then turned at the sound of voices. “Looks like someone’s coming our way.”
Indeed, students of the Corps were approaching. Toki let out a short breath, straightened, and greeted them.
“Hello, everyone.”
Some walked past without a word, others gave her a nod in return. She sat down to rest, quietly watching them. Someone settled beside her on the bench—a young man with bright yellow hair.
“Agatsuma Zenitsu? I think that was his name…”
He looked a little nervous, but still managed to speak.
“I h-heard you were on that mission. Was it… scary?”
“Yes… it really was,” Toki admitted honestly.
He fell silent. His body seemed to relax slightly, tension fading. He sat more comfortably, then suddenly asked.
“You… also study at Tokyo University, right?”
Toki blinked in surprise. She had never seen him on campus.
“Yes, that’s right. I study the history of ancient civilizations. Why?”
“I go there too,” he nodded. “Same faculty as Tokitou-dono. Though in different departments—he’s in fine arts, I’m in sculpture.”
Now she was even more surprised.
“Really? I’ve never seen you… And Muichirou never mentioned you.”
“Not surprising. I rarely show up there. After the last mission, I spent a long time recovering,” he sighed with quiet gloom.
“Well then, maybe we’ll meet there sometime,” Toki said with a polite smile.
The boy froze. His face suddenly lit up with pure joy. His eyes shut tight from excitement, and above his head—small sparks of lightning burst out.
“You… you actually want to see me more often?!”
“W-what?” Toki blinked, staring at the crackling air above him.
“A beautiful girl tells me she wants to see me more often!” His grin widened ridiculously. “Maybe we should start dating?!”
Toki barely heard his nonsense—something else caught her attention.
“You… you have lightning above your head,” she said, astonished at the sparks.
He flinched.
“What?! Again with the lightning?! I hate it so much! All I want is a quiet, peaceful life… a girlfriend! Love! But instead—demons, training, pain! It’s just a nightmare! Toki-san, you understand me, right?!”
Toki just blinked at him. He was very strange. Then again… almost everyone in the Corps was strange.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated. Ignoring Zenitsu’s wailing, she checked the message. It was from Muichirou.
“We’ve been assigned a new mission. Come to my place after training. Here’s the address…”
A faint unease stirred in her at his words, but she didn’t hesitate. She quickly showered, got ready, and set off toward the Mist Hashira’s residence. On the way, she stopped by a shop and bought rice balls for tea.
“Just in case—he might not have anything at home,” she thought.
Muichirou lived not far from Nakano Station, in a quiet residential area surrounded by a small park.
"What a charming place," Toki thought, hardly noticing how quickly she had arrived at the right house.
She stopped at the door, hesitating before reaching for the bell. For a moment she lingered, uncertain, then finally pressed it.
The door opened a little. Muichirou, sleepy and disheveled, yawned as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Hey,” he murmured. “Come in.”
He stepped further inside, leaving her at the entrance.
Toki entered cautiously.
The young man’s home was bright and comfortable, yet it held something she hadn’t expected. The living room table was covered in sketches. Some drawings were crumpled and tossed aside; pencils and erasers lay scattered everywhere. On the table sat an empty cup-noodle container. Another one rested on the floor.
“So this is what creative mess looks like?” Toki asked, surprised.
“I think better this way,” he muttered, already sinking down onto the couch. His hair was tousled from sleep, his T-shirt slightly wrinkled.
Toki walked around the room, noticing one particular sheet. A silhouette—elegant, almost ghostlike, with long hair—surrounded by lilies and figures from old legends.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Muichirou cracked one eye open but said nothing. He had drawn it that evening, but he offered no explanation.
She sat on the edge of an armchair. In that odd, careless silence, she suddenly felt at peace.
“How are you feeling? How’s your rib?” she asked, breaking the quiet.
“Fine. I feel better.”
Muichirou was never one for words—just as always.
“So… what’s waiting for us on the mission?” she asked again, her gaze flicking back to the sketch.
He leaned deeper into the sofa, closed his eyes, and replied:
“I haven’t eaten. I don’t want to talk about work.”
His gaze shifted to her, quietly studying. Toki’s hair was loose, catching the warm sunlight, carrying with it a faint, almost imperceptible scent—citrus and delicate flowers.
“O-oh… alright,” she said hesitantly, then added, “By the way, I bought rice balls for tea. If you’d like, we could have them?”
He lingered on her eyes before nodding.
She moved to the white kitchen counter and set the kettle on. By the window stood an easel: an unfinished nightscape, the thin curve of the moon painted against a brooding sky. Beautiful—and quietly unsettling.
Muichirou came closer.
“Can you grab the cups?” she asked.
He complied. Tea was brewed, rice balls were set out, and soon they sat across from one another, sharing a simple yet comforting breakfast.
When Muichirou went to get ready, Toki was left alone for a moment. He tied his hair into a low knot—the loose strands at his nape shimmered with turquoise, drawing the eye to his gaze of the same shade. His outfit was plain yet striking: a loose black T-shirt, a soft cardigan with turquoise patterns reminiscent of mist, black trousers that emphasized his tall frame and effortless movements, and understated boots completing the look—subtle, yet magnetic. Toki’s eyes lingered without her realizing. With his hair tied back, Muichirou looked almost unfamiliar. The turquoise strands near his neck deepened the color of his eyes, making them colder, sharper. Something in her chest tightened.
Soon after, a car pulled up outside. The kakushi rang the doorbell to let them know they were ready to drive Muichirou to his mission.
“So… what’s waiting for us?” Toki asked once more.
He met her eyes and gave a short reply:
“Nothing difficult. Just another assignment. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“I see… I understand.”
The car carried them swiftly to the assigned area. Today’s mission was to eliminate a demon on school grounds. Since children were involved, a Hashira was usually dispatched, though the demon turned out to be harmless—it hadn’t even injured anyone. Muichirou dealt with it quickly, entirely on his own. He never once suggested that Toki interfere. That, too, was a deliberate choice.
The mission was complete, the veil dispelled. They were finally free—free enough to allow themselves a whole day of rest.
A sudden ring broke the silence. Muichirou pulled his phone from his pocket and answered.
“Muichirou, I hope I’m not interrupting?” a cheerful voice came through. “Listen, I’d like to invite you over for dinner tonight. Senjuro’s cooking something special, and he really wanted you to join us.”
“I don’t mind, Rengoku-san,” Muichirou replied.
Kyoujurou added warmly,
“By the way, I heard you were paired with Toki-chan on today’s mission. Come together. Things haven’t been easy for her lately—I’d like her to relax a little.”
Muichirou ended the call and glanced at the girl.
“Rengoku-san invited us for dinner. Will you come with me?”
“Y-yes,” she answered softly, a little flustered.
They soon arrived at Kyoujurou’s home. Towering before them was a vast estate in the classical Japanese style: heavy beams, dark wood, finely carved walls, a garden with a fountain and a small pond where the trembling moon shimmered in reflection. At the heart of the courtyard burned a flame that the servants had tended for over a century—symbol of their clan’s magic, the heart of the Rengoku bloodline, a fire that had never been extinguished, even against the storms of time.
Toki caught her breath.
“It’s beautiful…” she whispered.
Muichirou only nodded.
“You made it quickly!” A bright, sunlit voice cut through the stillness. From the house emerged Kyoujurou, radiating his usual cheer.
He himself had arrived not long ago, straight from his apartment where he preferred to work.
“Good evening, Rengoku-san,” the two of them greeted almost in unison.
Their synchronicity amused him—the corners of his mouth tugged into a good-natured smile. Tonight, Kyoujurou looked different: instead of his uniform, he wore a simple black T-shirt and jeans that emphasized the strength of his shoulders, his fiery hair tied into a high knot with strands falling freely across his brow.
“Come, Senjuro has already finished cooking,” he said with a grin. “By the way, Muichirou, he remembers how much you like furofuki daikon. He made it especially for you.”
“Thank you,” Muichirou nodded curtly.
Inside, the house proved no less impressive. Everything breathed warmth: the soft glow of lanterns, the scent of wood, and the gentle aroma of soy sauce and ginger wafting from the kitchen.
At the entrance, they were met by the head of the household—Rengoku Shinjurou. His figure radiated strength, yet his shoulders carried the weight of years, bowed under an invisible burden. His gaze was piercing, stern.
“Good evening,” he said in a low voice, eyes lingering on Toki. “Tokitou—I heard you slew a Lower Moon. Congratulations.”
“Good evening,” Muichirou ignored the praise, responding with a dry nod.
“And you must be Amida Toki,” His voice was strict, almost uncomfortably attentive.
The girl hesitated, but answered nonetheless:
“Yes, that’s right. Good evening.”
An awkward pause lingered, until Kyoujurou quickly broke it apart.
“Father, who welcomes guests with questions right at the door? Let’s go to the hall instead.”
Shinjurou gave a short nod, and the tension eased.
In the hall, they were greeted by Senjuro, his face lighting up with genuine joy.
“Muichirou! And… Amida-san?”
“Just Toki,” she smiled gently.
“Then, good evening, Toki-san!”
Dinner was already waiting on the table: fragrant rice, miso soup, grilled fish, pickled vegetables. A place of honor was given to the furofuki daikon, carefully served apart.
"He really is almost like part of their family," Toki thought warmly as her gaze shifted to Muichirou.
The dinner turned out exquisite. Senjurou had cooked everything himself, and each dish carried more than skill—it radiated kindness, the warmth of a home.
“Senjuro-kun, this is incredible!” Toki exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “I could eat this every day!”
“Thank you, Toki-san,” the boy blushed, but his smile was bright with happiness.
Muichirou ate in silence. The taste of pickled radish stirred echoes of childhood within him, but, as always, the memory broke off midway. His gaze slid toward Toki. He caught every little movement: the way she laughed, the way she raised her chopsticks to her lips, the way her head tilted slightly when she listened. His eyes lingered on her, and in his heart, calmness slowly but inevitably began to bloom.
“Senjuro, did you know? Muichirou has entered university,” Kyoujurou said, visibly excited. “And Toki-chan studies there too!”
“Really?” Senjuro’s eyes went wide. “Toki-san, what’s your major?”
“History. I study ancient civilizations.”
“Wow! I love reading about pyramids!”
“Seriously?” Toki laughed. “That’s my favorite topic too.”
“I want to go to university as well…” Senjurou breathed dreamily.
“Senjuro, you’d better learn to hold a sword,” Shinjurou muttered.
“Father…” Kyoujurou sighed heavily. “Let him live as he wishes. Besides, he’s such a clever boy!”
Toki lowered her gaze. That fate—to be born into a family of slayers with no right to choose—felt painfully close to her own.
To break the silence, Kyoujurou said brightly:
“Senjuro, did you know Muichirou plays shogi brilliantly?”
“Really, Tokitou-san? I barely understand the rules.”
“Just move the pieces across the board,” Muichirou replied flatly.
Toki smiled inwardly.
"Yes, just like that… A game for true strategists. He really is a genius."
“Tokitou-san, will you play with me sometime?” Senjuro asked hopefully.
Muichirou gave a simple nod.
Outside, darkness had already settled; the pines in the garden swayed in the wind. After dinner, tea was served with red bean paste mochi.
Later, when everyone had dispersed, Toki found herself next to Shinjuro. He was drinking tea, staring into the garden.
“You have a beautiful home,” she said.
“Thank you. My wife loved it… We only try to preserve it,” he replied with a hint of sorrow.
“I see…”
“Amida-san,” his gaze turned serious. “What is it like—to live under the constant control of the Hashira? I know you did not choose to become a tsuguko yourself. But even if you are cursed… I do not see danger in you. The organization, however, may think otherwise.”
“At first it was difficult,” she admitted. “But I’ve grown used to it. Muichirou… he is a good person, despite his strangeness.”
“He lived with us for a long time. My son became his mentor and tried to break through the chains of apathy and past pain. Until he came of age, Muichirou was almost part of our family,” Shinjurou said. “But children should not have to endure such cruelty from such an early age.”
“Would you want Senjuro-kun to become demon slayer too?” Toki asked softly.
“He’s no swordsman, but he is a Rengoku. One cannot escape duty. We do not choose our fate.” He stood and bowed. “Thank you for the conversation.”
On the veranda, Muichirou lay gazing up at the sky. The moonlight reflected in his eyes.
Toki approached and leaned slightly over him.
“May I sit with you?”
He looked at her.
“Do as you like… I don’t mind.”
She settled down beside him, and in the silence they shared the same sky. Muichirou kept lying down, but the stars now held less of his interest. He turned his gaze toward Toki—and noticed that she, too, loved that same sky. In that silence lay everything: closeness, acceptance, peace.
Soon after, Kyoujurou stepped out.
“It’s already nine. I’m heading back—shall I give you a ride home? It’s on my way.”
After Kyoujurou had driven Muichirou and Toki home, he returned to his own appartement. The door closed behind him with a quiet click, and the night seemed to fold shut, pressing him inward—into a silence that offered no relief.
He walked into his study. The lamp flickered with a wavering flame, painting unsteady shadows on the walls, like traces of someone else’s breath. Everything remained in its place: books, archives, neatly arranged folders. Only the air had changed—watchful, hollow, as if the house itself sensed it was time to lift the veil.
Kyoujurou sat down at the desk, ran his palm across the cold surface, and pulled open the lower drawer. The creak of metal sounded almost like a warning. On the very top lay a folder with a gray cover, marked with a code.
The report on Toki’s first appearance.
He opened it. The first pages were dry phrases, standard formulations. Yet among them lay a sketch. Rough lines, as though the artist had not tried to capture appearance, but the feeling itself. A woman’s silhouette, surrounded by light.
Kyoujurou leaned closer. In the margins, a note:
“On the left shoulder—a glowing mark. Resembles a lily.”
His heart gave a sudden jolt.
"Muichirou had spoken of her ability to heal… but it was not the healing of a doctor. It was something else—something inexplicable. A flower. A symbol. A power."
He turned the pages.
Not a single word about her gift. Not a single remark on what happened after the mission. Yet Muichirou insisted he had reported everything to the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. Then why had nothing reached him, Kyoujurou—the one leading the investigation? Why was he kept in the dark? He leaned back in his chair. The lamp’s cold gleam reflected in his eyes.
"Oyakata-sama… is hiding something."
Kyoujurou rose, clutching the folder, and left the room. The house sank into a hollow silence, like a locked chamber.
“I need the archives,” he whispered.
The heavy door yielded with a long creak. The scent of dust and dried herbs met him, like the breath of memory itself. The archive—a place where the past did not die, but whispered in the half-light.
He walked between the shelves with steady steps, though inside him a troubled echo grew louder. Words circled in his mind: flower… power… the demons sought her…
At the shelf of ancient chronicles, his hand froze. Among the brittle scrolls, one stood out, fragile to the point of crumbling in his fingers.
On the parchment it read:
“…Descendants of the Binding World. Those who tread between life and death. Their bodies are marked with symbols. Their blood heals. Their flower—the lily. Only they can reach what is called the Panacea—a substance that cures any curse, even nonexistence itself. But for this, the eternal price must be paid.”
The page trembled in his hands.
A lily. A symbol. The spirit world. The Panacea…
Too much aligned. But why the silence? Why had no word of this ever been spoken at their gatherings? This was not secrecy for the sake of protection. It felt like a carefully hidden game.
Kyoujurou clenched his fists.
"If she truly is the key… then to which door?"
At that time, in the HQ.
The laboratory drowned in silence, as if inside a crystal well. Only the flutter of a butterfly’s wing broke the stillness.
Shinobu leaned over the table. Her face had lost its color. Repeated tests left no doubt. She set the sheet aside and rose—her movements slow, almost viscous.
Some time later, she stood before Kagaya. He sat by the window, unmoving, as though carved from stone. The moonlight turned him into a phantom, a figure outside of time.
“It’s her...” Shinobu said, her voice was quieter than a rustle, “her blood… matches all the data. She belongs to that clan. There is no mistake.”
Kagaya did not stir. He only inclined his head slightly.
“I see. Interesting.”
His gaze shifted to her. His eyes were calm—too calm—like the surface of water, beneath which something always lurks.
“No one must know.”
Shinobu nodded silently.
Kagaya turned back to the window. The branches of wisteria stirred in the wind, and the curtain swayed open and still again, as if the world itself hesitated—whether to breathe in, or to hold its breath.
“So, I was right. She is the key,” he said quietly. “But even a key cannot be set into a lock, if the door is not yet ready to open.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading my fic! In the next chapter I’m finally planning to introduce our beloved Upper Moons 🌒 I hope everything goes as planned 🤞
Chapter 13: Night of the Moons
Summary:
The demons gather in Douma’s luxurious apartment to discuss their plans, while Muichirou learns that the students’ exams are drawing near. Soon, they will be forced to take on missions alone. A heavy unease settles in his chest. Toki was nowhere near ready for this. And beyond that… was such a trial even necessary?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Night wrapped Tokyo but its darkness was not merely the absence of light—it was like a beast lying in wait. The city drowned in shadows, while neon lights scattered across glass facades, multiplying into a thousand colored reflections.
At the heart of Ginza among lavish restaurants and glittering boutiques, inside one of the district’s most expensive buildings, a spacious apartment became the meeting ground. Tonight those who shaped the world from the shadows had gathered there.
The Upper Moons—brothers by blood, the strongest of all demons.
At first silence ruled the room. Narrow windows stretched nearly to the floor, revealing the restless glow of the city outside. By the wall stood a short youth with pink hair, staring indifferently into the neon haze. Akaza. His cold gaze swept over the others.
“Only two missing,” he thought.
"And where are they? I’m sick of waiting!" snapped a beautiful girl with snow-white hair. She seemed like a goddess but her impatience flared brightly. "Brother! Why aren’t they here? We have things to do too!"
"Daki, calm down," her brother Gyutaro said.
A demon of peculiar shape—a pale, human-like figure crawling from a pot—joined in:
"Kokushibou always arrives when he pleases. But Douma… to invite us all here and then be late? That’s highly disrespectful."
"I will wait as long as it takes. Everything—for the Lord’s return," muttered a trembling voice. It was Hantengu, shaking in fear.
Only one stayed silent: Nakime. Sitting in the corner, she waited quietly for the owner of the apartment—and the one stronger than them all—to appear.
Suddenly the door burst open.
A demon in a golden suit entered, smiling as brightly as ever. His kaleidoscope eyes shimmered with a thousand colors. Carefree, he closed them like a cat full after a feast.
"Oh, forgive me, forgive me! I got a little distracted," he sang cheerfully, glancing around. "Business is such hard work… not that any of you would understand, of course… Well, except maybe Gyokko. You still selling junk? I hear no one wants your antique pots in a modern city."
"You’re insufferable, Douma!" Daki snapped. "You drive me insane!"
"Ah, Daki, still as beautiful… and still as foolish. Always consistent—that’s almost admirable!"
"What?! How dare you insult me! Brother! Gyutaro! Do something!"
Douma lifted his hands innocently, smiling sweetly.
"Gyutaro! He hurt your sister! Defend me!" Daki whined, clinging to her brother.
"Enough, Daki! That’s not why we’re here."
The air grew heavy.
At last the final presence entered. Kokushibou. Silent, towering, a statue of cold power. Six eyes, staring through time itself. Long black cloak, hands always gloved in leather, hair pulled into a strict tail. He greeted no one—just stood by the wall, arms crossed, his aura suffocating.
Now they were all gathered.
"At last! Everyone’s here!" Douma sprawled lazily on the luxurious sofa in the center. "So, how are you all? Anything new?"
Akaza’s voice cut through. His eyes locked onto him.
"We’re not here for your games, Douma."
"Oh, little Akaza! So impatient. I’m at my own home—I have every right to ask my dear siblings how their immortal lives are going," Douma replied slyly.
"You haven’t been killed in far too long," Akaza muttered.
"Ah, how rude!" Douma clapped his hands in mock offense. "And I was so happy to see everyone…"
Rolling his eyes, Akaza pressed on.
"He’s gone," he said, folding his arms. "Our scout, the only one attuned enough to sense what even we cannot… vanished. As if he fell off the earth. Time is slipping away. The Lord must awaken, and to do that—we need the key. We can’t afford delays."
"I wouldn’t say he vanished," Douma said idly. "He was… removed. Perhaps he met someone special. Talented. Maybe another Hashira with uncanny intuition. What do you think, friends?"
He lingered on the word friends, hiding a smirk.
"Someone who could see her," whispered Hantengu, eyes to the floor. "Someone who…"
Kokushibou’s six eyes turned toward Douma. Akaza stiffened—sensing Douma was holding something back.
"Douma," Akaza growled, "you know more than you’re saying. Don’t you? We know each other too well. You, the informant, the one who always knows everything. You’re aware of what happened, aren’t you?"
"Oh, stop it. I was just speculating. Sharp intuition—that’s all. I enjoy watching people. It’s fascinating."
"Enough! Stop talking in circles!" Akaza’s temper flared. Hatred for Douma burned in him, threatening to break loose. "Speak plainly!"
Douma spread his arms.
"I didn’t see anything. But I heard whispers. Our “unique” scout was killed during a simple patrol. By hunters. Such pitiful losses."
"Hunters, then… I see," Akaza muttered.
"But have you considered," Douma continued smoothly, inspecting his claws, "that he may have found what we’re looking for? Perhaps the very person with the power to awaken our Lord. Maybe on patrol. Maybe just some random passerby. Either way, I’m certain that person is in the Corps headquarters now. And of course they’ll hide them from us at any cost. They’re not fools."
"At headquarters?! You know who it is?!" Akaza slammed his fist against the wall.
The others remained silent, listening.
"Nope," Douma said lazily. "Reports like that don’t just leak. If I knew, I’d have acted already. Unlike you lot, stuck with your outdated methods. Honestly, you’re so old-fashioned and useless."
He smiled sweetly.
"Bastard!" Daki screamed, held back by her brother. "Tell us what you know!"
Douma sighed.
"Come now, think for yourselves. A gift like that could only belong to someone… exceptional. And how many of those do they have, hm? A handful at best. Hashira? No, too obvious. Kakushi, ordinary hunters? Useless. That leaves seal masters, barrier keepers… and students. Still a broad pool, but workable. You never use your brains. Or maybe with age you’ve lost them entirely?"
Kokushibou, back me up. You understand, don’t you? He smirked at the six-eyed demon, then at Akaza. — Draw your own conclusions, little Akaza.
The nickname made Akaza’s blood boil. He nearly struck, but then felt the atmosphere shift.
Kokushibou rose, and without a word, left the hall. The others exchanged glances.
"Boring, and always keeping to himself," Douma chuckled. "He doesn’t like games. But me—I adore them."
"Enough!" Akaza burst out. " We will act. Rui will monitor headquarters. His spiders are nearly invisible. We’ll soon know the truth."
"If someone holds the power to awaken the Lord… we will find them," whispered Hantengu.
The space trembled. One by one, the demons vanished.
When the last of them was gone, the apartment lay silent. Only its master remained. Neon lights shimmered across his pale golden hair, reflected in the wide glass panes, scattering across the walls. Douma walked slowly to a massive mirror, where the city’s glow pulsed like a restless lake.
"How fascinating…" he murmured with a sly smile. "Everything is fascinating. Who will you be, little spark? Though I already have my guess… telling them all would be boring. Let them play a while. Chaos is such a delightful game. And until then… I’ll rest."
Toki sat in the training hall beside Muichirou. He tried to teach her, but soon realized it was hopeless.
“Damn it…” she muttered, sinking to her knees and leaning back against the wall. “This is hopeless…”
Muichirou nodded silently.
“You don’t have the strength for that...” he confirmed in a flat tone.
Toki looked at him, her eyes shimmering with the threat of tears, and exhaled heavily.
“So… what are we supposed to do now?”
He tilted his head slightly, thoughtful, then stood and said simply:
“Come.”
She gave him a puzzled look but knowing him, didn’t ask questions and followed in silence.
They walked toward one of the most secluded corners of the headquarters — a distant shrine where almost no one ever went. Toki unconsciously slowed her steps. The air here was truly still, peaceful. The silence didn’t suffocate but wrapped around her, like a veil. And then — cats.
There were many of them. They wandered along the steps, perched on ledges, watching the two visitors.
“And what is this place?” she asked suspiciously.
“Himejima Gyoumei often spends time here. The Stone Hashira,” Muichirou replied, as if that explained everything.
“Uh-huh…” she murmured. “And?..”
“You have magical energy, but channeling it into a blade is nearly impossible. And even if you succeed… you still won’t be able to cut off a demon’s head. You’re physically too weak.”
She sighed. It was hard not to agree with that.
“And Himejima-san could help me?”
“I don’t know,” Muichirou admitted, which made her glance at him in surprise. “He trains those who use seals and barriers. I thought… maybe that would suit you.”
“You don’t know how to?”
“I do. But I rarely use them, and I doubt I could explain it to you.”
“As always,” Toki thought with wry fondness, and couldn’t help but smile.
When they stepped inside, the silence embraced her at once. The atmosphere felt almost sacred. Cats padded soundlessly across the hall.
“How strange…” she thought. “And yet… how endearing. He keeps cats…”
“Good afternoon, Tokitou-san. Amida-san,” greeted a man of towering height, his voice deep yet astonishingly gentle.
“Hello, Himejima-san,” Muichirou answered, without even looking at Toki.
The girl hastily bowed — and then noticed. He was blind. Completely. The realization struck her.
Gyoumei stepped closer.
“Tokitou-san, why did you bring your tsuguko?”
“I thought you could explain to her how to use seals,” Muichirou said calmly.
Gyoumei gave a short nod and turned toward Toki. He looked at her with such piercing attention it felt as though his gaze went straight into her soul. Uneasy, she gripped the hem of her skirt.
“Amida-san. Judging by the flow of energy within you, you truly are capable of channeling it into seals. I will show you how.”
He guided her to sit on the tatami. The room was quiet, broken only by the cats’ purring and the soft rustle of fabric with each movement.
“Amida-san,” he began, gentle but unwavering. “You fear the dark. But within you is light. The magic you hold is not for destruction, but for protection. Seals are an ancient form of control. They bind, they lock, they purify. They shield. At times, they can strike back — but rarely against powerful demons.”
Toki listened, not fully understanding.
“Look,” he set a paper slip inscribed with signs before her. “You’re not a swordswoman. But you can immobilize a demon until your partner severs its head. You can close a passage, prevent escape. Or create a barrier to protect the wounded.”
She nodded. Her heart beat dully, as though answering something vital. He picked up an old scroll and unrolled it. Symbols rippled across it, like water rings.
“Try. Place your palms here. Breathe evenly. Don’t think. Just feel.”
Toki placed her hands on the scroll. Inside her, everything wavered — fear that she would fail gnawed at her. But then — a quiet pulse.
It was as if her own energy stirred and touched the paper. One of the circles glowed, as though alive with light. Yet the sensation was different from the healing magic she knew.
“What is that?..” she whispered.
“That is your power,” Gyoumei answered gently.
She inhaled, focused. Her fingers trembled. Another circle lit up, the pattern began to shift. The seal awakened. She felt it — her power could truly take form.
Muichirou watched intently. He, too, sensed the difference in her energy, and felt a muted relief that Toki had managed to channel her magic into a seal.
Gyoumei smiled and pressed his hands together in prayer.
“Seals fall into three types,” he said, his voice low, almost like a chant. “First, the protective. Against demons, they are like dawn — slow, inevitable. Being near them is painful. They cannot easily break through.”
He touched the floor beside the symbol.
“The second type — binding. They are a trap. In battle, they buy time.”
He drew his hand, and another symbol glowed on the stone — intricate, full of crossings.
“And the last — offensive. They are will, forged into a mark.”
A little apart, leaning against the wall, Muichirou stood in silence. His gaze — detached, almost absent — followed her every move. Gyoumei’s words echoed like fragments of an ancient ritual. Muichirou remembered his own first lesson with seals. He had felt nothing then, had destroyed them with his energy, which had only drawn a kind smile from the Stone Hashira. He had never believed his strength lay in symbols. His only faith was in the sword. But she listened as if hearing music.
As if the seals were already within her. As though some part of her had always known them, long before her hands learned the patterns. He tilted his head, eyes falling on her hands — thin fingers trembling with emotion. Not from fear — but from the weight of meaning.
“If she learns to use them, she can protect herself.”
The thought should have comforted him. Yet by some strange logic of the heart, it only deepened his unease.
Toki succeeded in channeling energy into all three seals. It was a small victory — but her own.
“I think I did it,” she said with a bright smile. Gyoumei nodded and raised his hand in prayer before his face.
Then he turned quietly to Muichirou.
“Tokitou-san, are you aware that the students’ exam is soon? They will be sent on a mission alone.”
Muichirou tensed. He hadn’t known. Or rather, he had half-listened when Iguro mentioned it — Iguro had always seemed too much of a bore to him.
Toki glanced between them, startled. Muichirou looked grim. He, too, was troubled.
Some time had passed.
Nighttime Tokyo. Somewhere in the heart of the city stood a club where everything and everyone seemed to blur together. Thunderous music, blinding flashes of light, shadows and restless bodies—a Babylon, a modern Babylon. The very center of 21st-century sin. People vanished here, forgotten by the world, as if erased from existence.
Through the main entrance walked its master. Douma. Primordial Demon. Upper Moon.
As dazzling as ever—designer suit, a smile painted on his lips, the trail of expensive cologne. A light hum under his breath.
A call rang.
“Oh, little Akaza! It’s been so long since you last called. Missed me? What’s that? More marechi blood, to keep our Lord’s body from falling apart? Got it, got it. But why so gloomy, hmm? Find yourself a woman, have some fun! How many times must I tell you—you’re only weak when you… Hm. Hung up. Well, never mind!”
He strolled easily through the club, exchanging greetings, drawing both admiration and fear with every glance.
Until suddenly—his gaze caught. A young girl, sitting alone at the bar.
He approached.
“I don’t like seeing beautiful girls so sad in my club. It’s like a knife to the heart.”
“Oh, sorry… I was just bored. Came here to dance, that’s all. Are you the owner?”
“Yes. And if you came to dance…” He extended a hand with a dazzling smile. “Would you join me?”
She was enchanted. He seemed perfect—handsome, wealthy, confident. And those eyes… a kaleidoscope in which reason drowned. He already knew everything about her. Leaning closer, skin against skin, he whispered at her ear:
“It’s far too loud here. Why don’t we slip away… somewhere quieter, just the two of us?”
“Yes…”
Of course she couldn’t refuse. He led her by the hand, gentle yet firm. His lips curved into a predatory smile.
Once in the room, he was upon her—kisses, caresses, pulling away her clothes. She was on the edge—she wanted him. And he wanted her, but in his own way. His hand closed around her throat. Her body went limp.
“I like you better this way,” he said sweetly, sinking his fangs into her neck.
Her blood was hot.
Then—a call.
“Ah… Sorry, darling. I need to step away for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
He wiped his lips, waved a hand, and vanished into the next room—a spacious, shadow-filled hall.
Someone was already waiting.
Rui. A small demon, face of a child, but eyes older than a century. He had gone personally to each of the Upper Moons.
“I learned something,” Rui whispered, voice barely more than breath. “The students’ exam. They’ll be sent out alone. Real missions.”
Douma’s smile widened.
“How… delightful.”
“This is our chance,” Rui added.
“Then we won’t waste it, will we? …Exams, you say? How delightful. What a perfectly convenient little day for a party.”
Notes:
Douma, Douma… I’ve realized I really enjoy writing him. His dialogues, his sarcasm...he’s pure charisma 😈
In the next chapter comes the exam. The organization seems to have everything under control. But… will everything truly be all right?
Chapter 14: The Exam
Summary:
The day of the exam has come—and with it, something the Demon Slayers never expected.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The day of the exam had come.
The hunters gathered all the students at the headquarters’ main building. All the Hashira were present. Muichirou stood off to the side, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed on Toki. The girl was nervous. For the past two weeks she had been training, learning to use magic seals. And truth be told, she was doing well. Himejima often praised her, telling her she had a natural talent for that kind of mystical energy.
But Muichirou was not reassured. He didn’t put much faith in seals. He knew they could protect her from weaker demons, but someone far stronger was hunting her — and that thought gnawed at him. Even more troubling was the fact that she would have to remain alone for a long while — without him.
Kyoujurou, too, was lost in thought.
“I understand the exam is a necessary step on the path of a hunter. But as far as I know, Toki-chan only joined headquarters so she could be kept under supervision and control. Why is she participating in this? Did the organization see some use for her? Do they want to exploit her powers?.. Oyakata-sama must have read about her abilities in Muichirou’s report. Even so — it feels strange.”
Iguro Obanai spoke first.
“Today you will receive your first assignment without our supervision. You’ll divide into groups and head into different parts of the city, where surges of demonic energy were reported. The demons should not be strong, so your abilities ought to be sufficient to banish them. You may use whatever you wish — magic, seals, spells, swords — the choice is yours.”
He went on to explain the details of the mission. Then the students began to split into groups.
Aoi cast Toki a displeased look.
“What is she even doing here? Stupid cursed girl…”
Suddenly, Inosuke shouted.
“I’ll go alone! I don’t need help — I can handle it myself!”
Tengen strode up and smacked him on the head.
“Inosuke! Stop showing off… Although—” He glanced over the groups and noticed there were more students than pairs. “Fine, go alone. I don’t mind. Better than sending the girls by themselves, right?” He raised a finger and flashed a dazzling smile.
“Toki-san, let’s go together,” Tanjirou asked the girl.
He knew she relied on seals, and decided to accompany her, since it would be difficult for her to face demons on her own. The others’ attitude toward her was still far from welcoming.
“Ah, yes… Let’s. Thank you so much, Tanjirou-kun,” she replied softly. His kindness moved her.
From the sidelines, Muichirou watched. Something about the situation unsettled him.
The groups finally formed: Tanjirou with Toki, Inosuke on his own as he wished, Zenitsu with Genya, and Aoi with Kanao.
Everyone was ready. Iguro gave the command.
“Begin.”
The students filed into cars that would take them to different districts of the city.
Muichirou walked up to the car Toki was entering. She looked uneasy, clutching her seals tightly. His turquoise eyes met hers.
“Toki, be careful.”
She lifted her gaze — and in that fleeting moment, she caught something unusual. As though a crack had appeared in the ice of his expression.
“…Alright.”
Tanjirou bowed respectfully to Muichirou.
“I’ll stay close to Toki-san. I’ll make sure to help her.”
Muichirou only gave him a cold glance, saying nothing. The car sped away with her inside.
He remained behind, as the Hashira were instructed to. Their duty was to wait until the cars delivered the students to their hunting grounds, then observe from afar. The rule was meant to ensure the students did not rely on them — yet still remained under their protection. It was the first time such a method was used.
Kyoujurou approached him.
“Let’s take a walk in the garden. There’s something we should talk about.”
Muichirou nodded. One last time, he cast his eyes toward the departing car — and then followed.
“Muichirou,” Kyoujurou began once they were alone among the trees. “Lately, I’ve felt… something heavy in my heart. A kind of unease. Perhaps it’s just age speaking — I’m not certain. But it feels as though something dreadful is happening. Something we don’t even realize we’re already caught in.”
Muichirou looked at his former mentor.
“What do you mean, Rengoku-san?”
“I don’t know yet. But when I do — I’ll tell you. For now… Protect Toki-chan. Even if it means protecting her from ourselves.”
He left with those words, a trail of unease and mystery hanging in the garden air.
The vaulted ceilings of the underground hall were draped in black velvet. The air smelled of iron and incense.
They had gathered there: the Upper Moons.
Rui knelt in a circle of light cast by an antique lamp. His voice was calm, yet tinged with unease.
“Among the students, there is someone they are protecting. Through my spiders I sensed far too much security. Barriers have been placed not only around headquarters, but also over the examination grounds. Even the Hashira are watching closely, as if they fear they cannot handle it.”
From the shadows, Akaza emerged, his eyes burning like twin embers.
“Enough of watching. Enough of guessing. We will draw their attention away. I will strike near the headquarters. You will observe closely. Remember, our goal is not to slaughter them — not yet. Our goal is to discover who they are hiding. And if we do move… we must capture her or him. Let them believe the target is their precious Demon Slayer Corps headquarters. Meanwhile, the students will be left unguarded.”
“In chaos, everything becomes clear,” sang Douma as he appeared beside them. “True nature reveals itself when order collapses. We shall see who she is. Or what she is.”
Somewhere deep within the hall, behind the pillars, Kokushibou stood. He seemed to melt into the darkness itself — black cloak, black hair, black suit. He said nothing. But his gaze was intent, unwavering.
It was close to midnight. To better test the students’ abilities, headquarters had decided their assignments would take place at night — when demons were most active.
The car carrying Toki and Tanjirou stopped in the eastern district of Tokyo, near Asakusa Station.
Asakusa was a crossroad of past and present. Beneath its ancient arches ran not just the trains, but the very breath of history itself. By day, crowds of tourists and passersby filled the streets; but at night, the bustle shifted into something uneasy. Shadows stretched longer, and the city’s rhythm faltered into a hushed, foreboding beat.
That night, the historic district was sealed off by the Corps. To the public, it was explained away as an “unexpected accident” — urgent pipeline repairs. But Toki knew the truth. Evil itself lingered here.
“Something doesn’t feel right…” she thought, clenching her fists.
Tanjirou noticed and spoke gently.
“It’ll be alright.”
The Corps’ car — sleek, black, its windows tinted — glided to a halt at the station entrance. The door opened softly. Toki stepped out first, clad in the dark, severe uniform of a hunter. Tanjirou followed, his own attire just as black.
“Good luck,” the driver said before speeding away.
“It feels like everything’s holding its breath here…” murmured Tanjirou.
Toki listened. Indeed—the silence was too thick, almost suffocating. The air itself carried a faint metallic tang.
“Something’s not right,” she whispered.
Before them spread Asakusa Station: the old temple, the crimson torii gates. Between them shimmered an unseen tension. The hunters’ barriers pulsed faintly within the fabric of space, sealing the district, trapping demons inside.
Tanjirou drew his sword, his voice steady but gentle.
“We’ll be fine. Let’s start searching.”
Toki nodded.
The streets greeted them with an unsettling emptiness.
They wandered for a long time through narrow alleys lit by neon, through ancient temples where the wind whispered forgotten prayers across empty corridors. They swept their flashlights across carved wooden beams, then stepped out again into abandoned souvenir stalls and wide stone squares where tourists once gathered.
Now, the streets were empty. The public had been evacuated under the excuse of a gas leak. Deep below, the subway hummed like an underground heart—yet no trains arrived. The stillness was too heavy, too oppressive.
“Strange,” Toki muttered. “Hours already, and not even a weak demon.”
“They can feel us. They’re just not showing themselves,” Tanjirou frowned, tightening his grip on the blade. “And yet… someone is watching.”
Time stretched, slow and viscous. At exactly two o’clock, something shifted.
The air rippled—like water when a stone is cast into it.
“What is that?” Tanjirou raised his head.
From the alley ahead, a figure slid out—woven from the night itself. A demon. Gaunt as a dried husk, skin ashen, eyes sharp as a bat’s.
“So, here you are,” it hissed, stretching its neck unnaturally long. Its voice grated like rusted iron. “Sending children to do your work? A delightful supper awaits me.”
It laughed—and from its mouth poured a cloud of thick black smoke, as if ink had spilled across the air. The haze devoured the street, choking the lamplight.
“Blindness sorcery!” Tanjirou shouted. “Stay alert!”
But it was already too late. The world vanished into viscous fog. Sound dulled, muffled, as though they stood underwater.
Tanjirou lunged blindly, tracing movement by faint echoes—but the demon’s claws struck first. A cry, blood, a fall.
Toki was alone.
Through the dark she caught fragments—the clang of steel, Tanjirou’s ragged groan. Gritting her teeth, she stumbled toward the noise, fumbling for her seals, forcing panic aside.
She dropped to her knees. Her fingers trembled like compass needles in a storm. She pressed energy into one seal—the last she had trained with. An offensive one.
A flash burst forth, searing through the haze. Light ripped the night apart, exposing the demon’s silhouette. It shrieked, recoiling, clawing at its face.
“Now!” Toki shouted.
Barely standing, Tanjirou surged forward. His sword gleamed in the radiance of her spell—and in one clean stroke, severed the demon’s head.
Silence fell. The head rolled across the cobblestones, disintegrating into black dust. The body crumbled soon after, leaving only the faint scent of ash.
“We did it,” the young man said, raising his hand with a weary smile. “Thank you, Toki-san.”
“Think nothing of it, partner.” She nodded and returned his high-five.
But then Tanjirou glanced around, unease flickering across his face.
“What is it?” Toki asked softly.
“The barrier hasn’t faded,” he replied. “Normally, it lifts the moment a demon is destroyed.”
“Then that means…” Toki’s voice tightened.
“There’s someone else.”
The darkness lingered over the street—thick, listening, almost sentient.
Toki rose slowly, clutching her seal.
Blood slid down Tanjirou’s arm as he strained to peer deeper into the night.
“Stay sharp, Toki-san,” he rasped.
He never finished the thought.
Somewhere beyond the buildings, a door creaked—or something like it. A low hum rippled through the air, like the breath of something vast.
Toki stepped closer to him.
“This feeling… it’s worse than before,” she whispered. “Like we’re being watched. By someone… different.”
“I feel it too,” Tanjirou said quietly.
Their breaths mingled with the dark. Then—footsteps. Quick. Certain.
From the empty alley to their left, a figure emerged. Slender, straight, as though carved from the mist.
“…Muichirou?” she gasped, recognizing him.
He approached silently, scanning the shadows with cold precision.
“Don’t leave my side,” he said at last, voice low, firm. “We’re not alone here.”
Everything was unfolding according to plan.
The demons scattered, each chasing its prey in five directions. Only one of them set course for the headquarters.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a proper fight,” Akaza said with a faint smile. “I suppose it’s time I pay the hunters a visit. Wouldn’t do to be late.”
01:00 AM
The moment the vehicles carrying the students crossed the barriers and the wards began their work, the headquarters shook with a hollow roar. The guardian seals shuddered—then snapped, one after another, like breaking strings.
“Attack!” someone shouted.
From the sky, demons descended. More than a hundred—of every rank and level. One burst straight into the main hall. Several hunters fell at once, the rest fighting tooth and nail.
“How dull,” Akaza murmured, glancing around. “Is there truly no worthy opponent here?”
Only three remained at their posts.
On the northern side stood Iguro. He had been observing the students’ progress from afar, reading the reports transmitted through a special device the kakushi used. Then—suddenly—an oppressive surge of demonic energy spilled down the staircase. He drew his blade. The small white serpent at his neck pressed tightly against his skin.
“It’s alright, Kaburamaru. Don’t be afraid. I won’t need you for this.”
Hundreds of demons surged toward him, and Iguro leapt to meet them.
At the southern edge remained Mitsuri Kanroji.
Like her late mentor, Rengoku Kyoujurou, she carried a special flame-like energy in her blood. That was why she had stayed in the headquarters: her strength could be unleashed at range, guarding the perimeter in case of an assault.
She sat on a bench, idly swinging her legs.
“I wonder how the others are doing? I hope they’re safe… though, they’re such good kids,” she murmured with a smile.
Suddenly, the ground vibrated with a crushing aura. Mitsuri froze. Her eyes widened; a spark of fear flickered in her pupils.
“Why are they attacking…?” she whispered, drawing her whip-like blade.
The instant she saw the horde swarming toward the compound, she shifted into battle stance.
“Well then, I won’t let you through! You won’t ruin our exam! The flames of love will burn you all away!”
She hurled herself into the mob. Her blade cracked and lashed, and demon heads vanished in bursts of searing pink fire.
03:00 AM
At the heart of the headquarters, only the wind remained—until footsteps echoed from the dark.
Akaza emerged.
Rengoku Kyoujurou stood at the stairway, shoulders taut, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. He had just cut down another demon, and now his eyes fixed on the true enemy.
“A rotten system,” Akaza said coldly. “A degenerate tradition. You train children to die for a fabricated duty. For centuries you’ve repeated this cycle. And you dare to call us evil?”
“I think about it myself, often,” Kyoujurou answered, steady and calm. “Time spares no one. But as long as you exist, the sacrifices will never lessen. Now tell me—why are you here?”
The fire in his gaze sharpened.
“Rengoku Kyoujurou, Flame Hashira. Your family has carried this name for what—over a hundred, perhaps two hundred years? How many of your clan have we slain?”
“That means nothing. Each one fell protecting life, however fragile.” His voice rang with steel. “Answer me, Akaza!”
A predator’s smile cut across the demon’s face.
“So, you do know me.” His pupils thinned. “And the one you protect… they’re not just another student, are they?”
Kyoujurou said nothing. Only the blaze in his eyes flared brighter.
“No need to answer. Your silence is enough.”
Kyoujurou stepped forward.
“I will not let you leave alive, Upper Moon—Akaza!”
His skin lit with marks, fire surged through his veins. His blade ignited like a miniature sun, pouring light across the ruins. He vanished from sight—reappeared an instant later, already at Akaza’s side.
“You are serious,” the demon remarked, raising his fists.
“Rising Scorching Sun!”
The blade arced upward, trailing a blazing circle. Fire engulfed the demon, burning deep into his flesh.
"This flame… it’s like the sun itself. Dangerous. Too dangerous. My regeneration… it’s slowing," Akaza thought, leaping back.
But Kyoujurou pressed forward.
“Flame Tiger!”
He slipped into the demon’s blind spot, slashing horizontally, nearly cleaving Akaza’s torso in two. But the demon caught the blade in his hand, losing several fingers in the process.
"I have to kill him. Even if it costs me my life. They came for her… they’ll soon realize the truth!" Kyoujurou thought, forcing the marks deeper into his flesh. His speed multiplied again.
Akaza’s playful stance broke. He sprang into the air.
“Disorder!”
Blows rained down, shattering stone, opening a crater beneath them. Kyoujurou barely rolled aside—then lunged once more, his strikes relentless.
Flames clung to Akaza’s body, slowing his regeneration, forcing him to struggle for each limb.
“Sooner or later, your body will fail! I’ll burn you down with the flames of my soul! Blazing Universe!”
His sword tore upward from ribs to throat, severing an arm and nearly cleaving Akaza’s neck.
"One more strike—!"
“Blazing Universe!”
Kyoujurou raised his blade for the final blow—
"Leave, Akaza. Dawn is near. We will find the target another night," a woman’s voice whispered inside the demon’s mind.
In the blink of an eye, Akaza vanished.
“Where are you going?!” Kyoujurou roared, unleashing his blade. “Blazing Universe!”
But the demon had already turned his escape into an opening. His fist slammed into Kyoujurou, who twisted just enough to avoid death—yet blood burst into his eye.
“A fine duel… but my time is up. Farewell, Rengoku Kyoujurou.”
“Stop!”
Too late. The demon melted into shadow and was gone.
Kyoujurou pressed a hand to his face. Blood trickled down his cheek.
Could it be… they’ve discovered something? Toki… are you safe?
Elsewhere, atop the roofs of the sleeping city, Douma laughed—like a child seeing something amusing for the first time.
“What a day! What a spectacle!” he squealed. “At last—entertainment! The world without Muzan was so dull, but now—intrigue, fear, hidden potential…”
He calmed, slightly, only to whisper again.
“How long before these fools put the pieces together? And how long before she reveals herself? Will she collapse in hopeless tears? Or ignite in furious rage? Either outcome suits me perfectly.”
And then the barriers dissolved. The seals shattered. The screams quieted. The demons withdrew. Suddenly. Abruptly. As though distracted—or as though they understood their true target was not here. They left behind only silence. Ash. Blood. Shattered blades.
The hunters stood in the wreckage of their own stronghold—some clutching wounds, some desperately pressing on fallen comrades. Several bodies lay still, beyond saving.
In the dust-filled hush, someone whispered.
“They… were looking for someone. But they didn’t find them.”
And that truth was worse than victory. Worse than defeat. It was the herald of something far more terrifying.
Watching from afar, Kokushibou remained still. His eyes saw everything. He lifted his gaze toward the sky, wordless, as darkness thickened around him.
Toki was watching Muichirou.
“Muichirou? Did something happen?”
He silently approached them, scanning the space around.
“Don’t move a step away from me. We’re not alone here.”
“Tokitou-dono, is someone watching us?”
Muichirou nodded. It was around three in the morning. They were heading toward the edge of the barrier—when suddenly, it vanished.
“How strange,” Tanjiro muttered. “It’s gone…”
Every nerve in Muichirou’s body screamed: something terrible had just happened. He waited until Tanjiro walked a bit ahead and then quietly asked Toki.
“Your power… it hasn’t surfaced, has it?”
She looked at him.
“It tried to. But I stopped it. Thanks to the seals I’ve learned to control.”
The young man exhaled in relief—then felt his pocket vibrate.
“The exam is over. Muichirou, return to headquarters,” said Kyoujurou before hanging up.
When they returned, Toki’s steps slowed. The car stopped right at the entrance to the headquarters, and she stepped out into a near-silent stillness. The scent of burning stung her nose. Dust hung in the air like smoke after fireworks. Only this wasn’t a festival. It was more like a funeral.
She saw the remains of broken buildings. Slayers with bandaged shoulders. Shattered seals. Her heart clenched.
“What happened here?” she asked.
“Tokitou-dono!”—a huntress rushed over. “Are you all right?” Seeing his nod, she sighed in relief. “Thank God, the other students are safe as well. It seems the demons who broke in were searching for something—or someone. They left as soon as the first rays of sunlight appeared.”
Kyoujurou approached them. One of his eyes was covered in bandages soaked through with blood.
Toki realized he had fought someone dangerous. She realized he had used the Mark again. His face was deeply exhausted, his hands trembling. She had never seen him so weak.
He looked at the Mist Hashira and asked.
“Is everything… all right?”
The young man understood immediately what his former mentor meant. He was asking about Toki’s power. Muichirou gave a slight nod, assuring him that she had held it back—that the demons hadn’t sensed her.
"This was because of me," Toki realized with a sudden chill.
The demons could have been searching only for her. After all, it had already happened once before. Her eyes grew hollow. Her hands trembled. Her knees gave way. For a moment—she was once again a child, afraid of the dark, hearing the breath of horror itself.
“Toki.”
His voice pulled her out of the suffocating haze. Muichirou. He stood close by, not touching, yet creating a space where she could breathe. She lowered her head.
Slayers were bustling all over the grounds. The damage was not catastrophic, but there had still been casualties. Students returned from their assignments—horrified by what they saw.
Toki remained near her mentor. Muichirou stayed beside her.
“Come. You need to rest.”
She agreed—quietly, without unnecessary words. He led her to her room. They were alone. Only the silence rang in their eardrums, like a muffled scream.
“I…” the girl whispered. “If not for me, it would have been different… It’s all my fault…”
Muichirou’s eyes widened. Something stirred in his chest.
He didn’t hug her. He wanted to—but didn’t allow himself. Some last fear, some forbidden line still held him back. But he stood with her. His voice steady, restrained as always.
“It’s not your fault.”
She didn’t answer. Only gripped the fold of her uniform sleeve tighter.
“But if it weren’t for me… They wouldn’t have come… They’re after me… They destroy because of me… They take lives…”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her teeth clenched.
“Even if they’re after you…” Muichirou’s gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not your fault. You are you, Toki. In what’s happening, there is no blame on you. Don’t carry the entire weight of this world alone.”
“If I didn’t exist… If I just disappeared…”
Something inside Muichirou stirred again. He guessed what she meant.
“Then I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
He didn’t often speak this way. Not restrained. Not cold. Not detached. Toki lifted her tear-stained emerald eyes to him—and wept even harder, hearing those words.
And it warmed her more than any touch ever could.
Muichirou sat with her until she fell asleep. He left the night lamp on and went to the men’s quarters.
Tonight, he remained at headquarters. He couldn’t sleep for a long time. But eventually—he did. And found himself in a yellow forest.
The ginkgo branches swayed overhead, leaves swirling in a golden dance. It was quiet. And strangely warm. Muichirou walked, feeling the spring of the ground beneath his feet. He walked—until suddenly, he stopped. He was standing before himself. Only… not quite himself.
“You’re still the same fool, Muichirou,” said the reflection with a faint smirk. “But you know what… I take back what I once said. ‘Mu’ doesn’t mean ‘useless.’ It means ‘infinity.’”
The reflection caught a golden leaf in its palm.
“Muichirou… don’t you dare die. Live for both of us.”
Muichirou’s eyes widened. He realized it wasn’t just a reflection.
“Wait… who are you?”
“You really are an idiot. I’m Yuichirou. We’re twins.” He raised a brow, teasingly. “Guess I made my judgment too early.”
He turned around. Leaves swirled around him, carrying him away.
“Well then. I’ve got to go. Until next time.”
“Wait!”
But everything vanished. A bright flash of light—then Muichirou jolted awake, sitting up straight in bed. His heart was racing. Sunlight poured into the room.
The clock showed: 12:13 PM.
He rubbed his face with his hand. Then exhaled.
“That was… my brother. I really did have a brother… Yuichirou.”
He went silent, staring at the ceiling.
"I need to ask Rengoku-san."
Notes:
Phew, this chapter turned out really tense. I can’t wait for the next one… let the investigation begin.
KazenoKokyu on Chapter 11 Sat 30 Aug 2025 02:38AM UTC
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Lilooloo on Chapter 11 Sat 30 Aug 2025 01:19PM UTC
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KazenoKokyu on Chapter 11 Sat 30 Aug 2025 01:31PM UTC
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KazenoKokyu on Chapter 12 Tue 02 Sep 2025 04:54PM UTC
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KazenoKokyu on Chapter 13 Fri 05 Sep 2025 11:34AM UTC
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KazenoKokyu on Chapter 14 Tue 09 Sep 2025 01:15PM UTC
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KazenoKokyu on Chapter 14 Tue 09 Sep 2025 05:45PM UTC
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