Chapter 1: Snow
Notes:
Author’s Note:
There was an issue with the previous fic, so I had to delete it since I couldn’t post a new chapter. This is the new version, and it already includes the latest chapter—so enjoy reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The snow fell silently, covering the world in a thick white blanket. Each step Sae took crunched beneath his feet, his breath misting in the frigid air. Rin’s body felt unbearably heavy on his back, and the warmth of his younger brother’s blood seeped through his clothes, sending a chill down Sae’s spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
Sae’s face remained calm and composed on the surface, but inside, his thoughts were in turmoil.
How… did this happen?
His breathing quickened, harsh and uneven, both from the biting winter wind and the fear clawing at his chest.
“Rin… don’t die.”
The words came out hoarse, barely audible, but he repeated them, louder this time, as if his voice alone could keep Rin tethered to life.
“Don’t die.”
Adjusting Rin’s position, Sae gripped him more tightly, as though his arms could hold back death itself.
“I’m going to save you,” he muttered, his tone trembling. “You can’t die.”
The snowstorm roared around them, almost drowning his voice, but Sae shouted over the wind, desperation breaking through his usual coolness:
“Your nii-chan is definitely going to save you!”
---
Flashback
“Sae!”
The sharp call of his name stopped him just before he reached the edge of the village path. Turning, he saw his mother rushing toward him, her kimono sleeves fluttering in the wind, her geta clacking against the frozen ground.
“Come here,” she said warmly, kneeling down in the snow as she reached him. Her hands brushed lightly against his arms, checking him over as though she were making sure he was truly ready to leave.
“You don’t have to go today,” she said, her voice soft, almost pleading. “The snow is falling harder, and the roads will be dangerous.”
Sae’s dark eyes, steady and calm, met hers.
“I have to,” he replied evenly. “I need to go to town… to study, to learn. If I want to be the best, I can’t stay here.”
For a moment, his tone softened, and he added quietly, almost to himself, “…Even if it’s just a little improvement, I have to try.”
His mother’s lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “Thank you,” she murmured, pride and worry blending in her voice.
Just then, the sound of quick, light footsteps echoed through the snow. Rin came running toward them, his breath fogging in the cold air. But when he reached them, he said nothing.
He stood there silently, his expression unreadable, his eyes briefly meeting Sae’s before flicking away.
Sae didn’t speak either. Though Rin didn’t voice his feelings, Sae understood well enough. His younger brother was in that difficult stage of growing up, full of unspoken frustrations and quiet defiance.
It’s just his rebellious phase, Sae thought, keeping his face neutral. He’ll grow out of it someday.
Their mother glanced between the two brothers, the quiet tension hanging thick in the cold air. Then she turned to Sae, smiling gently.
“Hurry back, okay?” she said, her tone is light but firm. “Be careful!”
Sae gave a single, silent nod and lifted a hand in a small wave before turning to leave. His figure grew smaller and smaller as he walked down the snowy road toward the town, disappearing into the swirling white landscape.
Rin stood beside their mother, silent as ever, watching his older brother’s back fade from view.
Neither of them could have known how deeply this moment would be etched into their memories… or how quickly everything would change.
---
The snow crunched softly beneath Sae’s wooden geta as he made his way down the winding mountain path, his scarf fluttering in the biting winter wind. His breath misted in the frigid air, and his expression was calm, unreadable—but his thoughts were deep and heavy.
Our life isn’t easy, Sae thought, his eyes scanning the endless white landscape. But we’re happy.
A faint, wry smile almost touched his lips before fading as quickly as it came.
But life is like the weather… it’s always changing. It won’t always be easy. The snow won’t always keep falling.
His gaze sharpened, his steps crunching faster against the snow.
And when happiness ends… there’s always the smell of blood in the air.
The quiet of the mountain was broken by the distant chatter of the village below. As Sae stepped off the last slope and entered the town, he was greeted warmly by familiar voices.
“Oh, Sae!” an old woman called, waving at him as she shuffled over. “You came all the way down the mountain again just to study? You’re such a hardworking young man! But you’ll catch a cold at this rate!”
Sae gave a polite bow, his usual cool demeanor unshaken. “I’ll be fine.”
Another villager, a middle-aged man with a big smile, chimed in as he passed by.
“Thanks for fixing my shoji door the other day! You’ve really got a knack for that sort of thing!”
“Study hard, boy!” he added, patting Sae on the shoulder before moving along.
Before Sae could reply, a commotion broke out. Another elderly woman appeared, dragging a flustered man by ear.
“Aaah! Sae!” the man yelped when he spotted him, relief flooding his face. “You’re just in time! She says I broke a vase! Help me out here—smell it!”
The man held out a cloth-wrapped shard of pottery as if it were evidence in a trial.
Sae crouched calmly, his nose twitching slightly as he sniffed the object. “I smell… a cat,” he said flatly.
The old woman blinked in surprise. “A cat? Oh dear.”
The man instantly puffed up with vindication. “See?! I told you it wasn’t me!”
The old woman grumbled but released her grip, and Sae rose smoothly to his feet, giving a small nod before continuing toward the school.
---
Later, After School
The sun was beginning to sink, staining the snow in shades of pale orange and gray. Sae adjusted his scarf, preparing to start his trek back up the mountain, when a voice suddenly called out to him.
“Hey, Sae!”
He turned to see an elderly man standing at the edge of the path, worried etched into his face.
“You aren’t going back up there now, are you?!” the man asked, his tone urgent. “It’s too dangerous after dark!”
Sae’s voice was calm but firm. “I’ve got a good nose for trouble. I’ll be fine.”
The old man stepped closer, shaking his head. “Please, stay here for the night. Come back in the morning.”
“But—” Sae began, only to be cut off.
“It’s all right,” Girolan said, his voice softening. “You’re welcome here. You don’t want to run into any demons.”
At that, Sae’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing. He followed the man to his house.
---
Inside Girolan's House
The interior was small and simple, with paper lanterns casting a warm glow and wagasa umbrellas stacked neatly in the corner. The smell of miso soup and freshly cooked rice filled the air.
As Sae ate quietly, the old man sat across from him, continuing his warning.
“For ages, man-eating demons have roamed these woods after dark,” he said gravely. “So you shouldn’t walk around at night. Eat, then sleep. You can get up and go home early tomorrow.”
When the meal was finished, Sae settled into a futon laid out on the tatami floor. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts heavy, before speaking.
“But… can’t the demons come inside houses?”
Girolan paused, then nodded. “Yes… they can.”
“Then,” Sae asked bluntly, “why don’t they eat everyone?”
“Because demon slayers cut them down,” the old man said, his voice low. “They’ve been protecting us for generations.”
Sae closed his eyes, silent for a long moment. Old man Girolan lives alone because he lost his family, he thought. There’s no need to fear. There’s no such thing as demons.
But then… a memory surfaced—his grandmother’s voice, trembling and urgent before her death.
“Beware the darkness. Demons are real, Sae.”
---
The Next Morning
At sunrise, Sae bowed politely to Girolan, who stood outside his house.
“Thank you,” Sae said quietly, lifting a hand in farewell.
As he turned and began climbing the snow-covered path home, his thoughts lingered on his earlier words.
When happiness ends… there’s always the smell of blood in the air.
The village faded behind him. The crisp morning air stung his lungs as he climbed higher, the quiet mountain stretching endlessly ahead—until suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks.
His eyes widened.
His family home lay just ahead… and in front of it, Rin was sprawled on the snowy ground, unmoving. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the snow a deep, terrible red.
“Rin!” Sae’s voice cracked as he sprinted forward, his heart pounding in his ears. He dropped to his knees beside his brother and gathered him into his arms. “What the—?! Agh! What happened?! What hap—”
The words died in his throat.
The house’s sliding door was shattered. The interior was a scene of horror: blood splattered across the walls, soaked into the floor, even dripping from the ceiling. And there, amid the chaos, lay his mother’s lifeless body.
“…Mother,” Sae whispered, his voice breaking for the first time.
---
Present
Now, Sae trudged desperately through the snow, Rin limp on his back.
Only Rin’s body was still warm, Sae thought, his chest tightening. Maybe a doctor could save him.
His breaths were ragged, sharp in the frozen air. Tears stung his eyes as his mind spun wildly.
How did this happen?
A bear? he wondered, his thoughts frantic. Maybe… a bear too hungry to hibernate?!
He forced his legs to move faster, his lungs burning with the cold.
So hard to breathe! The air’s so cold it’s freezing my lungs.
“Keep going,” he muttered between gasps. “Move your feet faster.”
The village was still a long way off. Sae gritted his teeth, his body trembling from exertion and grief.
“I won’t let you die.”
Rin’s limp hand twitched slightly, but Sae didn’t notice—his focus entirely on the path ahead, the blinding snow, and his own desperate drive to save his brother.
I have to save you, he thought fiercely. Your nii-chan will save you!
Behind him, Rin’s eyes fluttered open. His breathing changed—ragged, guttural. His pupils narrowed unnaturally as a deep, animalistic growl escaped his throat.
“Grrrrraaaaaaah!”
Sae froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
i
“Rin…?”
Before he could fully turn, his foot slipped on the icy edge of the path.
“Oh, no! I’m slip—!”
Both brothers plunged downward, tumbling off the cliff as snow and ice gave way beneath them, vanishing into the white abyss below.
---
Sae groaned as he stirred, his body buried halfway in the soft snow. His head throbbed, but he realized immediately that he was alive.
The snow… saved me, he thought, staring up at the pale gray sky. But it also made me slip.
He scrambled to his feet, panic flashing briefly across his normally calm face.
“Rin!” he shouted, scanning his surroundings.
Then, just a few feet away, he saw Rin standing unnaturally still, his back to him. A sinking dread filled Sae’s stomach as he hurried forward.
“Rin! Are you all right? You shouldn’t be up!” Sae said, his voice sharp with urgency, though his expression remained oddly composed. “Let me carry you into town. We’ll get help.”
He reached out, his hand hovering near Rin’s shoulder.
“Rin…”
Before Sae could touch him, Rin suddenly lunged forward, pouncing on Sae with inhuman speed. The two crashed into the snow, Rin now on top, his teeth snapping as guttural growls escaped his throat.
Sae reacted instantly, shoving the wooden handle of his hatchet between Rin’s jaws to stop him from biting down. Rin thrashed violently, his eyes wild and unrecognizable, his entire body radiating raw, animalistic hunger.
What the hell…? Sae’s usually cool mind was racing.
A demon? Old man Girolan's warning… was Rin really—
“No,” Sae growled under his breath, shaking his head as he braced himself against Rin’s overpowering strength. That’s impossible. Rin has been human since the day he was born.
But then, Sae caught it—the stench. A foul, rotting smell of blood and death, clinging to Rin’s body like a shadow.
This isn’t just Rin. There’s another scent here. Someone else was there that night.
Images of his destroyed home flooded his mind: his mother’s lifeless body, the blood-soaked walls and floor, the shattered doorway.
While I was safely asleep in town… something horrible happened to my whole family. How they must have suffered.
Rin let out another guttural snarl, his strength increasing as his muscles bulged unnaturally. Sae gritted his teeth, struggling to hold him back.
He’s growing stronger… Sae realized. I have to save Rin, but he’s so powerful I can’t push him away!
“Rin!” he shouted desperately. “It’s me! Snap out of it!”
But Rin didn’t respond. His eyes were blank, filled only with hunger.
“And I wasn’t there to help them,” Sae thought bitterly, a rare flicker of pain passing across his face.
“Hold on, Rin!” he yelled, his voice breaking through the storm. “Fight it! Fight for your life! Don’t turn into a demon! You can do it!”
At that moment, Rin froze. His body trembled violently, and to Sae’s shock, tears began to spill from his eyes. For a heartbeat, Rin’s resistance faltered, and Sae’s hope flared—
—but then a flash of steel cuts through the air.
A katana.
A figure appeared behind Rin, swinging down to behead him. Sae’s instincts kicked in. He twisted, grabbing Rin and rolling through the snow just in time to dodge the lethal strike.
“Who… who is that?” Sae demanded, clutching Rin protectively.
The man straightened, his posture loose, his expression one of sheer exhaustion. His dark eyes held no anger—just weariness, as if this entire situation was a burden he had carried far too many times.
Sae’s gaze flicked to the weapon in the man’s hand. A katana… a demon slayer.
The man’s voice was cold and flat.
“Why are you protecting it?”
Sae’s chest heaved, his words tumbling out before he could stop them. “B-Brother… he’s my… little brother!”
The man’s gaze sharpened slightly, skeptical. “That thing… is your little brother?”
Rin growled savagely at the man, straining in Sae’s grip. Sae hugged him tighter, trying to shield him. But in a blur of motion, the man was suddenly right in front of him.
Before Sae could react, Rin was ripped from his arms, his wrists wrenched behind his back. The man held Rin effortlessly, even as the boy snarled and kicked wildly.
“Rin!” Sae shouted, his calm facade cracking.
“Don’t move,” the man said flatly, his tone carrying quiet authority.
Sae froze, glaring at him.
The man continued, his voice still cool and detached. “Killing demons is my job. So of course, I’ll take your little brother’s head too.”
“No!” Sae snapped, his voice sharp. “Rin hasn’t killed anyone! There was another scent at my house—someone I’ve never smelled before! That’s the one who killed everyone, not Rin!”
The man didn’t blink.
“That’s easy to explain,” he said lazily. “Demon blood got into his wounds. That’s how humans transform into demons. That’s why your brother is like this.”
Sae shook his head violently. “Rin would never hurt anyone!”
The man’s expression didn’t change. “A moment ago, he almost hurt you.”
“That doesn’t matter!” Sae shouted back, clutching his hatchet. “He knows me—I know he does! I won’t let him hurt anyone, and I’ll find a way to cure him. I’ll make him human again!”
The man sighed, sounding utterly unconvinced. “He won’t get better. A human who becomes a demon.. never goes back.”
“Then I’ll prove you wrong!” Sae roared. “I’ll find a way! I swear I will! Please, don’t kill him! I’ll also find whoever killed my mother! I’ll do it all, so please—”
His words died as he saw the katana’s blade gleam, now resting at Rin’s throat.
“Stop!” Sae cried, his voice breaking. I can’t lose Rin too!
He fell to his knees in the snow, bowing low. “Please don’t kill my little brother. I’m begging you.”
The man’s eyes hardened. His voice rose slightly, the weariness replaced with sharp reprimand.
“Never leave yourself so defenseless in front of an enemy!” he snapped. “Stop bowing so pitifully! If begging worked, your mother would still be alive!”
Sae’s body tensed, his hands trembling against the snow.
“A weakling who kneels in the moment of battle—how can someone like that save his brother? Or find the one who slaughtered his family?!”
Rin thrashed in the man’s grip, snarling louder, but the man didn’t even glance at him.
“If you want something,” the man said coldly, “you fight for it. The meek has no power and no options. The strong will crush them in every way.”
He raised his katana again.
“Demons might know how to cure your brother,” he continued, “but no demon will respect your whining and begging. And I don’t either.”
Sae’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing.
“You want to protect him? Then FIGHT. Throw your hatchet! Strike me down! Don’t just show me your back and pray!”
He tilted his head slightly. “Or else, I’ll cut you both down where you kneel.”
Rin let out a guttural roar. The man’s expression flickered for a brief moment—annoyed, maybe even pity. Then his blade flashed.
“No!” Sae screamed, hurling a stone at the man.
The man easily deflected it with his free hand, but his focus shifted for just a moment—enough for Sae to sprint into the trees. He circled wide, his breath controlled, his steps calculated.
He’s strong. I can’t beat him head-on. I need one chance.
Sae hurled another stone, deliberately sloppy. The man dodged again, bored, unimpressed.
Then Sae burst from the trees, charging in.
The man smirked faintly. A direct attack. Foolish.
In one swift motion, he knocked Sae unconscious with the flat of his blade. Sae collapsed, unmoving.
The man started to turn away—then froze.
Wait. Where’s his hatchet?
He glanced up—and his eyes widened. The hatchet was flying straight toward his head. He dodged at the last instant, the blade embedding itself in a tree trunk.
So that was his plan, the man realized, a flicker of respect breaking through his exhaustion. He distracted me with the stones, hid his hand so I wouldn’t notice, then planned to strike me down after I cut him down. Clever kid.
Before he could dwell on it, Rin snarled and kicked him backward, breaking free.
“No!” the man shouted, too late to stop it.
Rin lunged—not at him, but toward Sae’s unconscious body.
He’s about to eat him, the man realized grimly.
But then, something strange happened. Rin stopped. His trembling hands hovered over Sae, and instead of biting him… he turned, growling at the man.
The man’s eyes narrowed. Sae’s earlier words echoed in his head:
“Rin would never eat anyone.”
…He wouldn’t be the first to say that, the man thought. And then get eaten alive moments later.
But Rin didn’t attack Sae. He protected him.
These two… might be different.
The man exhaled sharply, stepping forward. In a single, precise strike, he chopped the side of Rin’s neck with his hand, knocking him unconscious.
Later
Sae dreamed of his mother’s voice.
“I’m sorry I had to leave you, Sae. Take care of Rin…”
His eyes flew open. He sat up abruptly, finding Rin lying beside him, still breathing. Relief washed over him.
“You’re awake,” came a tired voice.
Sae turned to see the man—Isagi Yoichi—leaning against a tree, looking completely drained.
Yoichi's tone was flat, like he’d said these words too many times before.
“Go see an old man named Marc Snuffy. He lives at the foot of Mount Sagiri. Tell him I sent you.”
He stood, sheathing his katana. “Your brother should be fine since the sun isn’t out today. But don’t let him into direct sunlight.”
Before Sae could respond, Yoichi was gone, vanishing into the forest without another word.
Later that day, Sae buried his mother beneath the snow, his expression stoic even as grief gnawed at him. Rin stood silently beside him, still unconscious.
When it was done, Sae took Rin’s hand and turned toward the path leading away from the village.
“We’ll find Marc Snuffy,” he said quietly, his voice calm but firm.
With the weight of loss behind him and his brother’s fragile hope ahead, Sae set out—ready to fight for both Rin’s life and vengeance for his family.
---
The mountain path was silently safe for the crunch of Sae’s geta in the snow. His breath drifted in pale clouds, his expression unreadable beneath the dim light of dawn. He had been walking for hours when he finally spotted a small village nestled between the trees.
He stopped at the edge of the fields, his sharp eyes falling on a farmer bent over his work.
“...That basket,” Sae said, his voice flat and cold. “And some straw and bamboo. May I take them?”
The farmer straightened, blinking in surprise. “Oh—uh, sure, but the basket’s no good. It’s got a hole in the bottom.”
Sae gave a curt nod, silent for a moment. Then, bluntly:
“I’ll pay.”
The farmer waved his hands quickly. “No need for that. It’s a broken basket—trash, really. You can have it and the rest.”
Sae’s brows drew together slightly. He didn’t want anyone’s pity.
“Take the money,” he said, his tone like ice.
“No, no, really—”
“I said take it.”
The farmer sighed in exasperation. “We don’t want it! What a stubborn kid you are!”
Sae rolled his eyes, his patience gone. He slammed a few coins into the farmer’s palm with a sharp smack. The farmer yelped, clutching his stinging hand.
“...Oww!”
Without another word, Sae grabbed the basket and supplies and walked away, his back straight and unyielding.
---
By the time he reached the cave, the sky had already shifted to a pale orange.
“Rin,” Sae called, his voice quieter now, almost soft. “Rin.”
No answer.
His eyes swept the empty cave—until a small rustle caught his attention. Rin emerged silently from a dark hole dug deep into the earth, his teal eyes glowing faintly in the gloom.
“There you are.” Relief flickered briefly across Sae’s face before it vanished.
He crouched, examining the hole.
...Did he dig this himself? he thought, mildly incredulous. Like a damn mole.
Rin stayed crouched low, silent and unmoving.
“Wait here,” Sae said curtly before turning his attention to the basket.
Working quickly, he wove bamboo and straw together, reinforcing the broken basket until it was sturdy. When he was done, he brought it to Rin and set it down.
“Get in,” Sae said bluntly. “We need to move during the day. I’ll carry you.”
Rin didn’t respond.
Sae’s tone sharpened. “Here. The basket. Now.”
Finally, Rin crawled toward the basket and tried to get in—but only his head fit.
“You’re too big,” Sae muttered, frowning.
For a moment, he just stared at Rin, his mind drifting back to when Rin was a small child—clinging to his sleeve, barely able to walk. I still think of him as a little boy... but he’s grown.
Then an idea struck him. “Rin,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a demon now. Can you… shrink yourself? Make your body smaller.”
Rin tilted his head slightly but didn’t move.
Sae scowled. He tapped Rin’s forehead with two fingers, then pushed lightly on his shoulders. “Smaller. Rin. Smaller.”
Suddenly, Rin shoved his whole body into the basket. It rocked violently side to side, threatening to topple, but Sae steadied it. When he looked inside, Rin was curled up—small enough to fit.
“...Good.” Sae patted Rin’s head once, then hoisted the basket onto his back. Without another word, he set off.
---
Hours later, he reached another village at dusk. A woman with a small child in her arms pointed toward the looming mountain.
“To reach Mount Sagiri, you’ll need to cross that ridge,” she explained, concern in her voice. “But the sun will set soon. Traveling with such a heavy load will be dangerous.”
Sae gave a short nod. “Thank you. I’ll manage.”
The woman’s eyes lingered on the basket. “People disappear up there… Don’t get lost.”
“I won’t,” Sae said simply before continuing on his way.
---
Night fell. Rin walked beside him now, his bamboo muzzle secure around his mouth—the one Isagi had given them. Sae knew its purpose: to keep Rin from harming humans.
As they walked, Sae’s sharp eyes caught a faint light ahead.
“There,” he said, pointing. “A way station. Someone’s inside.”
Still holding Rin’s hand, he approached. But as they neared, a coppery stench hit him. Blood.
Sae froze, his eyes narrowing. Blood stained the wooden door. Without hesitation, he slid it open—and immediately found himself face-to-face with a demon crouched over a corpse.
The demon’s head snapped up, lips curling into a snarl.
“Hey! This is my territory! Get lost, brat!”
Sae’s grip tightened on his hatchet. A man-eating demon, he realized coldly.
Rin, silent until now, trembled beside him. His pupils dilated at the smell of blood, and a faint growl escaped his throat.
The demon’s eyes widened. “Huh…? You two… you’re strange. Are you really human?”
Before Sae could react, the demon lunged. The flimsy door shattered as Sae was thrown back, pinned beneath its weight.
“Die!” the demon roared.
Sae twisted his body and slashed upward, his hatchet biting into the demon’s jaw.
The demon staggered, laughing even as blood poured down its chin. “A hatchet?! Ha! That won’t do a thing to me. See? Already healed!”
Sae’s cold expression didn’t falter, but a flicker of unease passed through his mind. It healed… so fast.
Behind him, Rin stared at the corpses, drool dripping past his muzzle. Sae’s heart clenched. Rin…!
The demon surged forward again, faster this time. It slammed Sae to the ground, a clawed hand closing around his throat.
“Now I’ll crush your neck!”
But before the killing blow landed, Rin moved. In an instant, he kicked the demon’s head clean off.
The severed head crashed into a nearby tree. Sae shoved the twitching body off and leapt to his feet. Rin crouched protectively in front of him, growling low.
Then—to Sae’s shock—the head began to move.
“Why, you…!” the demon’s head hissed. Arms sprouted grotesquely from its neck stump. “One of you’s a demon! I knew something was off! What’s a human doing with a monster?!”
The body lunged blindly at Rin while the head clawed toward Sae.
Sae’s mind raced. Two separate threats… focus on the head.
He swung his hatchet, but the head bit down on the blade with jagged teeth. Sae’s eyes widened.
“You little—!” He slammed his forehead into the demon’s skull with brutal force.
The demon’s thoughts rang in panic. His head… it’s like stone!
Sae headbutted it again, harder, until the demon released his hatchet with a pained howl. With a vicious motion, Sae pinned the head to a tree using the hatchet’s haft.
“Stay there,” he growled.
Then he turned toward Rin—just in time to see the demon’s body stomping on him.
“Rin!”
Sae threw himself at the body, tackling it to the edge of a cliff. They teetered on the brink, and for a heartbeat Sae almost fell with it—but Rin grabbed his hand and yanked him back as the body tumbled into the darkness below.
The head screamed in agony, its voice echoing in the night.
Breathing heavily, Sae drew his knife and stalked toward it. Different demon than the one at home. If I don’t kill it now, it’ll just keep feeding. I have to end it.
But before he could strike, a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder.
Sae spun, ready to fight—only to see an old man wearing a carved tengu mask.
“You can’t kill it with that,” the old man said calmly.
Sae froze, his breath visible in the cold night air, his blade still poised to strike.
---
A crow carrying a letter at its feet flew to Snuffy and landed neatly on his arm. Snuffy untied the scroll and read its contents carefully.
> Greetings, Lord Marc Snuffy,
I have sent a boy your way who wishes to become a demon-slaying swordsman. He had the courage to fight me with his bare hands. A demon slaughtered his family, leaving only his younger brother alive—though that boy has been transformed into a demon himself. And yet… he chooses not to attack humans.
There is something unusual about these two. Like you, the older brother possesses a keen sense of smell. Perhaps he may be worthy of carrying on your traditions. I humbly ask that you train him. Forgive me for the selfishness of this request.
May this letter find you in good health and spirits.
Sincerely, Isagi Yoichi.
Snuffy folded the letter, a low hum escaping beneath his tengu mask. Without hesitation, he gathered his belongings and set out to find the boy.
---
Sae crouched beside a trembling demon's severed head, gripping a worn knife in his hand. His breathing was heavy, his mind racing.
"How the hell am I supposed to finish it off?" he muttered, frustration seeping into his voice.
Snuffy stood a short distance away, his arms crossed. "Don't rely on others for answers. Think for yourself." His tone was cold and cutting.
Sae clenched his teeth. If stabbing it won't work, then… I’ll have to crush its head.
He grabbed a nearby rock, his mind whirling. But if I only bash it, it’ll suffer. Isn’t there a way to kill it in a single blow? It's too annoying to get blood on his clothes. How lukewarm.
Snuffy observed silently, his gaze sharp and disapproving. "This boy hesitates," he murmured to himself. "Isagi… you may have been wrong about him."
Suddenly, sunlight broke over the horizon. Sae froze as the demon’s flesh began to sizzle and smoke. Its agonized screech filled the air before its body crumbled into ash.
So sunlight is their weakness, Sae realized. No wonder Rin fears it so much.
His eyes shifted to his younger brother, Rin, who peeked timidly from behind the basket where he was hiding. Sae exhaled slowly, his attention briefly catching on the old man in the distance, quietly burying the victims of the demon attack.
---
Snuffy finally approached. "I am Marc Snuffy," he said. "You must be the boy Isagi wrote about."
Sae gave a small nod. "Itoshi Sae. This is my younger brother, Rin."
Snuffy’s voice turned razor-sharp. "Tell me, Sae. What will you do when your brother eats someone?"
The question struck Sae like a physical blow. "I—"
SLAP!
Snuffy’s hand cracked across Sae’s cheek. Sae staggered but glared back, his expression indifferent yet edged with irritation.
"You think too slowly!" Snuffy barked. "If you hesitate like that in battle, you’ll never slay a demon before dawn. You must answer without delay!"
Snuffy took a step forward, his presence suffocating. "When your brother devours an innocent soul, there are only two paths left to you: first, kill your brother. Then, take your own life. That is the price of traveling with a demon at your side!"
Sae stiffened but said nothing.
"But," Snuffy continued, his tone lowering, "it is your sacred duty to prevent that day from ever coming. Your brother must never harm a human. Do you understand me?"
Sae clicked his tongue, annoyed. He didn’t care for other people, but he gave a reluctant nod anyway.
Snuffy narrowed his eyes. He doesn’t mean it… but at least he agreed.
"Very well," Snuffy said at last. "Shoulder your brother and follow me. We will see if you have what it takes to walk this path."
---
The First Trial
The journey to Snuffy’s home was brutal.
Snuffy sprinted ahead with impossible speed, his footsteps silent despite the rough terrain. Sae struggled to keep up.
How can an old man move like that? Sae thought, panting heavily.
Once they arrived, Snuffy wasted no time. "Next task," he ordered. "Run the mountain path with this."
He pointed to a massive boulder. Sae’s eyes widened. "You’ve got to be kidding me."
But he said nothing, hoisted the rock onto his back, and began to run. His muscles screamed, his vision blurred, but he pressed on — because Rin was counting on him.
When he finally stumbled back to Snuffy’s house, drenched in sweat, he asked through ragged breaths, "Did I… pass?"
Snuffy didn’t even blink. "The trial has only begun."
---
Unseen Hazards
Snuffy led Sae into the woods that night. The air was cold and damp, moonlight barely breaking through the thick canopy.
Suddenly — THUNK!
A rock whizzed past Sae’s head. Before he could react, the ground gave way beneath him, and he tumbled into a covered pit.
"Damn it!" Sae snarled, clawing his way out.
The moment he surfaced, WHACK! A heavy wooden log slammed into his back, knocking him sprawling.
Every step of training was a trap, every lesson meant to sharpen his instincts and break his hesitation. Sae’s body ached, but his will held firm.
For Rin… I’ll survive this.
---
That Night
Later, back at Snuffy’s house, Rin slept soundly. Snuffy quietly draped a blanket over the boy and watched him for a moment.
The door creaked open. Sae entered, caked in mud and barely standing. His body trembled, his face a mask of exhaustion.
Snuffy’s gaze softened beneath his mask. In silence, he thought
Itoshi Sae… you’ve earned the right to be my student.
---
Before us stretches a solemn mural of countless warriors — the Hashira of past generations. They stand as proof of the hundreds of members who have sworn their lives to the Demon Slayer Corps. Though never officially recognized by the government, the Corps has endured since ancient times, hunting demons in the shadows of history. Even now, the true identity of its mysterious leader remains hidden from the world.
A horrific scene unfolds: a demon, drenched in blood, devours human flesh with feral hunger. Demons. Their staple food is humans. They kill and consume without hesitation. No one knows when or where they first appeared. Gifted with monstrous strength, they heal wounds almost instantly. Severed flesh reconnects, new limbs sprout, and some can even twist their very forms at will. Others possess powers beyond human comprehension. Only two methods can end them: the light of the sun, or a decapitating strike from a specially forged sword.
Now, the battlefield. A demon slayer, body torn and drenched in blood, fights on despite his fatal wounds. Unlike demons, humans cannot regenerate. Their bodies break, their blood spills, and their injuries linger. Yet still, they charge into battle. For the Demon Slayer Corps exists for one purpose alone — to protect the lives of ordinary people from the terror of the demons.
---
The Demon Slayer Corps. A hidden army of swordsmen who fight monsters most people don’t even believe in. Their leader is unknown, their recognition nonexistent, and yet… they’ve survived for generations. Hundreds of them have lived and died hunting demons.
And me? I’m stuck training under one of their old men.
---
Snuffy spoke, steady and calm.
“I am a trainer. Just like it sounds, I train swordsmen. There are many trainers scattered across the land, each with their own methods. But to join the Demon Slayer Corps, you must survive the Final Selection at Mount Fujikasane. Before that, you must first survive my training. Only then will I allow you to attempt it.”
I didn’t answer. Words mean nothing until I survive them.
---
Starting today, I’ve decided to write this for you, Rin.
Again, I descended the mountain. I trained until my lungs burned raw. If I don’t crush myself now, the Final Selection will. Simple math.
His traps are vicious. Planks swing to smash bones, blades whistle through the air, pits lined with knives open underfoot. I’ve stopped fearing them. I smell the iron, the oil, the wood. I dodge more, fall less. But he makes them worse every day, as if he’s hungry to break me.
Snuffy just smiles faintly.
“You’re improving, Sae. Bit by bit.”
I don’t answer. I don’t need crumbs of praise.
---
Today, I carried a katana while descending the mountain. The blade dragged at my balance. I tripped nets more than once.
Snuffy only laughed softly.
“That’s part of the lesson. A blade is both your weapon and your burden.”
I wanted to snap at him, but my teeth stayed clenched. Words wouldn’t cut him anyway.
---
I practice swinging the sword every day. “Today” is a lie. It’s just endless repetition—strike, strike, strike until my arms tremble like glass.
Snuffy explained patiently,
“A katana is strong lengthwise but weak from the side. Break the blade, you break your own life. Strike straight, without hesitation.”
I told him flatly, “If it breaks, it wasn’t worth relying on.”
He smiled, but his eyes were sharp.
“Then I’ll make sure your bones break just like the katana.”
---
Today, I trained in falling. Over and over. Rolling, breaking my fall, standing before my head stops spinning.
I faced Snuffy with a sword in hand, ready to carve him open. He was unarmed. Still, he threw me like I weighed nothing. Again. And again.
“You’ve got a strong spirit,” he said softly. “But your core is weak.” Then his fist hit my stomach—not cruel, just surgical.
I glared at him, voice like a blade. “Then stop lecturing and make me stronger. I don’t have time for your riddles.”
---
It’s been six months, Rin. Six months, and you still haven’t opened your eyes. Snuffy called a doctor. Nothing is wrong, the doctor said. Nothing wrong—liar.
I don’t say it out loud, but every night I check to see if you’re still breathing. Every night, I expect to find you gone.
Your hair’s longer now. I noticed it when the doctor checked you. Snuffy stood there, face unreadable. I sat beside you, touched your forehead.
You’re still warm. Still here. That’s all I’ve got.
---
I climb higher each day, where the air thins and death waits at every step. Sometimes, when I leap across cliffs, I wonder if this is the fall that kills me.
Snuffy always greets me at the end, saying quietly, “You endured another day, Sae. I’m proud of you.”
I never answer. Pride doesn’t weigh anything in my hands. Only strength does.
---
One day, Snuffy looked at me and said softly,
“I have nothing more to teach you.”
I was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down my chin. His words irritated me.
“Huh?” I snapped, glaring at him.
Sae’s POV
About a year after I first arrived at Mount Sagiri… that was all he said.
Snuffy’s expression stayed kind, but his words were firm.
“The rest is up to you. Can you take what I’ve taught you… and bring it to the next level?”
He led me deeper up the path. I followed, annoyed, until we stopped. Before me stood a massive boulder — taller than me, wider than a house.
“If you can split this boulder,” Snuffy said, his voice was calm but steady, “I will approve you for the Final Selection.”
Sae’s POV
A… boulder? Split this? What is this old man thinking? Split it with a katana? That’s a lukewarm joke. The blade would shatter.
Before I could protest, Snuffy turned his back and started walking away.
“Snuffy! This—!” I called after him.
But he didn’t answer.
---
Since that day, Snuffy hasn’t taught me anything.
Still, I practice. Every day, I work through what he drilled into me: my breathing, my flexibility, even the basics I once thought were beneath me. I’m glad I wrote everything down in my journal. Without it, I’d be lost.
I slice through bamboo with my katana, pushing myself until my arms burn. But half a year has passed… and still, I can’t split that damn boulder.
I stare at it for hours.
It isn’t enough. My training isn’t enough. I have to do more.
I run down the mountain with my katana in hand, dodging trees and traps, throwing myself into every obstacle. But the thought gnaws at me:
What if I’m no good? What if I fail? If I fail… will Rin die like this?
I slam my head against the boulder in frustration.
“Try harder…!” I mutter coldly through clenched teeth.
“Silence.”
The voice rang out suddenly, cutting through the stillness of the mountain.
I turned calmly toward the sound. A boy was sitting atop the boulder. He wore a white fox mask with blue markings curling across it, and strands of black hair framed the sides of his face. His posture was straight, his presence controlled — almost as if he had been waiting there the whole time.
“A man shouldn’t whine,” the boy said, his tone firm. “It’s unseemly.”
Whining? I hadn’t said a word. His assumption annoyed me, but I didn’t let it show. I kept my expression cold, my gaze steady.
The boy leaned forward slightly. “Whatever the suffering, bear it in silence. If you’re a man. Or are you still just a little boy?”
I met his hidden eyes without flinching, my voice flat and blunt.
“Who are you supposed to be?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he suddenly leapt down from the boulder, wooden katana in hand. His strike came fast, colliding with my blade in a burst of sparks.
The impact rattled through me, but I held my ground. His movements were sharp — practiced. In the next breath, he twisted, swept my balance, and kicked me hard to the ground.
“You’re slow,” he said coldly from behind the mask. “And weak. You’ll never be a Demon Slayer.”
---
Sae stood in the clearing, mud clinging to his legs, his sword drawn. Sweat ran down his temple but his expression stayed cool and indifferent.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the stillness.
“What are you doing?”
Sae spun, eyes narrowing. A boy sat on a boulder, fox mask hiding most of his face, black hair drifting across his forehead.
Sae’s voice sharpened like his blade.
“Where the hell did you come from?!”
The boy ignored the anger, his tone flat.
“How long do you plan to keep your butt stuck in the mud? Take a stance.”
Sae’s glare lingered, sharp and cold. But he rose anyway, straightening, katana steady in his hand.
The boy’s lips curved faintly beneath the mask.
“Now… attack.”
Sae blinked. Is he insane? Wooden sword against steel?
He scoffed, voice laced with venom.
“You’ve got a stick. I’ve got a blade. Do you have a death wish, you lukewarm idiot?”
The boy suddenly burst into laughter—clear, cutting. Before Sae could react, the wooden sword flashed.
Clang!
Sae barely blocked in time. His eyes widened.
The boy leaned in, grinning.
“How sweet—thanks for worrying about me! You think you can hurt me?”
Sae’s gaze grew colder. His voice dropped, blade pressing harder.
“Try me.”
But the boy whispered, sharp as a knife:
“Rest your poor, soft heart. You can’t hurt me. I’m stronger than you’ll ever be. I’ve already split a boulder.”
You split… a boulder?
Sae froze. …Soft heart?
No one had ever called him that. He was cold. Indifferent. A blade with no warmth. And yet—this boy…
The boy stepped back, suddenly sharp as steel.
“You’ve gained nothing. You haven’t mastered anything. Certainly not the breathing Snuffy taught you—Total Concentration Breathing!”
Sae’s eyes widened. He knows… Snuffy?!
The boy pressed on, voice unwavering.
“You just memorized it as fact. But your body—your blood—doesn’t understand anything!”
Clang! Another strike. Sae staggered.
“Beat it into your flesh and blood! Into the marrow of your bones! Until you embody it!”
Sae’s composure cracked, words spilling through clenched teeth.
“I do. Every day. Harder than anyone. But no matter what—I can’t move forward.”
The boy snarled.
“Don’t ‘try’—do it! If you’re a man, there’s no other choice! Either progress… or lie down and die!”
The wooden sword slammed against Sae’s guard, forcing him back.
“Attack! Show me your strength!”
Sae roared, cutting forward—but the boy’s counter sent him flying. His body hit the dirt hard. Exhaustion swallowed him, the weight of sleepless days pulling him under.
His katana slipped from his grip. Darkness claimed him.
---
A soft crunch of footsteps. A girl approached. She was quiet, her mask pushed up onto her head. It bore a simple pink flower pattern.
She gazed at Sae’s unconscious form, expression unreadable but gentle.
The boy turned, resting his wooden sword on his shoulder.
“I leave the rest to you.”
The girl hummed lightly in response, a small, calm smile flickering across her lips.
And then the boy vanished into the trees.
Sae’s eyes opened slowly. His body ached, his breath ragged.
A voice drifted to him—gentle, quiet, like the wind through trees.
“Are you all right, right?”
He shot up, alert, hand instinctively reaching for his blade. But the girl before him only sat calmly, mask pushed back, her pink flower crown swaying slightly. Her expression was serene.
Still, Sae’s voice came sharp, low, and controlled.
“Did you see what happened? That was an incredible blow. Not a single wasted movement. …But is that even possible? Can I do it?”
The girl smiled faintly, soft as the petals in her hair.
“I’m sure you can, can. I’ll watch over you, you.”
Sae’s gaze lingered, studying her carefully. Watch over me? Why?
“…Who are you?”
---
She said her name was Kurona. The boy’s name… Kiyora.
Kurona was the one who pointed out the defects in Sae's stance, the wasted swings Sae never noticed. Her voice was steady, calm, as if she had all the time in the world.
Kurona corrected Sae. Over, and over, and over.
Unnecessary movement. Bad habits. Even the way Sae breathed.
Why is she doing this for me? Where did she come from?
Sae asked her once, but she never gave him an answer.
She always says,
“We really like Snuffy, Snuffy.”
That's when Sae learn that they weren’t siblings. They were both orphans. Snuffy took them in, raised them. She told me there were other children, too. Always watching me. Always near.
Kurona was… strange.
She spoke softly, gently, but always repeated herself. Each word was like a whisper that lingered too long.
---
Kurona told Sae once:
“Total Concentration Breathing… accelerates your blood flow and heartbeat. And your temperature shoots up, up.
You’re still human… but you get strong like a demon, demon.
You expand your lungs… and bring lots of air into your blood, blood.
Your blood gets excited… and your bones and muscles thrill, thrill.
You get hot and strong, strong.”
Her voice was calm, almost dreamlike, even as her words pressed against me like a command.
Sae didn’t understand.
How could that be?
But Kurona only smiled, as if the answer didn’t matter.
“You must train so hard… that you could die, die. Basically, I don’t think there’s anything else you can do, do.”
So Sae trained.
He swung his sword until his arms and legs felt torn from their sockets.
Until his lungs screamed, until his heart threatened to burst from my chest.
But still…
Sae couldn’t beat him. Kiyora.
Not once.
Six months passed.
Training without rest. Blades clashing until the arms screamed, lungs burned, and strength threatened to give out. Failure repeated day after day.
Until one evening, the air shifted.
Kiyora stood waiting, this time with a real katana. His fox mask gleamed faintly in the fading light. His stance was perfect, unshakable.
“After half a year… you’ve finally got the face of a man.”
Sae’s hair had grown longer, falling against his shoulders. His gaze was cold, unwavering, his katana steady in his hand. Sae didn't say anything but his gaze, sharp.
The contest began.
No tricks. No wasted movements.
The faster, sharper blade would win.
Both surged forward at once.
Steel rang against steel, sparks breaking in the air. Kiyora’s blade cut downward, but Sae met it with a precise strike—calm, merciless. Their forms crossed, a single instant stretched thin.
Then silence.
Sae turned slowly. The cut was clean.
Kiyora’s fox mask had split in two, falling away to reveal his face beneath. A fleeting smile touched his lips. Peacock-blue eyes shone brightly, filled with a strange sadness—yet also pride, as if the strike had set something free.
For the first time, Sae’s blade had reached him.
A few steps away, Kurona watched with her flower crown swaying in the wind. Her voice was soft, calm, yet firm.
“Win, Sae… against them too.”
Her smile lingered as her figure faded like mist.
Sae’s breath caught. He turned again, Kiyora was gone. The mask halves were gone too.
And before him…
The boulder stood cleaved neatly in two.
The truth struck like thunder.
There had been no opponent. No duel.
Only the trial Snuffy left behind.
“A demon’s weak point is its neck.”
Snuffy’s voice carried the weight of old grief. “But a normal blade cannot kill one, even with the neck severed. That’s why the Demon Slayer Corps wields nichirin swords—blades forged from special steel, bathed in sunlight.”
Sae listened in silence, his face unreadable.
Training with Kurona had given him something more. A new sense. A way forward.
Thanks to her, something had awakened.
The scent of an opening thread.
When an opponent revealed a weakness, the air shifted. A thread appeared—red and taut—guiding the blade.
In battle, that thread ran from steel to target, pulling tight the moment the chance arose. The blade would follow it without hesitation. That was how victory had been claimed against Kiyora.
Snuffy’s expression softened as he looked upon the boy. His voice faltered, caught between relief and sorrow.
“I did not intend to send you to Final Selection. I had no wish to see another child die. I didn’t think you would split that boulder… But you did well.”
He reached out, rough hand resting gently on Sae’s head. The touch was soft, a caress filled with pride.
“Sae… you are an amazing child.”
Sae lowered his gaze, lips tight, but did not move away. Sae despised physical touch—yet he let Snuffy’s hand remained.
Then, without warning, Snuffy drew him into an embrace.
“Go to Final Selection. But be sure to return alive. Your brother and I will be waiting.”
Sae stood stiffly in his arms, but said nothing.
---
Before going to the final selection, Sae cut his hair short. And in Sae’s hands rested a fox mask. A warding mask, Snuffy explained, painted with a sun-shaped crest. It was said to protect against evil.
The younger brother lay asleep, untouched by all of it. Rin’s small hand was held one last time.
No words were spoken. Sae only looked once more before leaving him in Snuffy’s care.
---
At the edge of the mountain, Sae turned back. His voice was even, distant, yet clear.
“I’m on my way, Snuffy. Tell Kiyora and Kurona… that I thank them.”
Snuffy froze.
The wind carried silence.
His thoughts weighed heavy.
Sae… how is it you know the names of those two children? The ones who have long been dead?
Mount Fujikasane.
The mountain stood silent, cloaked in darkness. Wisteria blossoms hung heavy, glowing pale beneath the moonlight. Their scent drifted across the air, strangely sweet… and suffocating.
Sae climbed the long stone steps. The mask Snuffy gave him sat against his face, its painted sun crest catching the faint light. Each step felt heavier than the last, but his expression remained cold, indifferent.
At the summit, the clearing opened. Candidates had gathered, silent and tense. Boys and girls, some trembling, some fierce-eyed. Sae stood apart, gaze fixed ahead.
Two figures awaited them. Girls, identical in face but different in hair—one black, one white. Their presence was ghostlike, their eyes void of emotion.
The black-haired girl spoke first, voice clear and monotone.
“Greetings, everyone. Thank you for gathering tonight for Final Selection. Mount Fujikasane holds demons that swordsmen have captured alive and trapped here.”
The white-haired girl followed, her tone equally flat, yet chilling.
“Demons hate wisteria flowers, which bloom here even out of season. They cover the mountain from its foot halfway up the slope.”
Then both of them spoke together, perfectly synchronized, their words echoing in the night.
“However, from that point on, the wisteria does not bloom. There, the demons roam free. You must survive within that territory for seven days. If you do, then you will have passed Final Selection. Now… go.”
The great iron gates groaned open.
The candidates moved as one, stepping into the mountain’s shadow. The sound of sandals against stone and dirt faded into the night.
Sae entered without hesitation, his blade steady at his side. The air beyond the gates felt heavier. No flowers. No scent of wisteria. Only silence.
Behind them, the twin girls stood watching, expressionless. The gates closed with a final, echoing clang.
The trial had begun.
The forest loomed dark and silent. Every rustle in the brush carried weight, every breath held danger.
Then—voices broke the stillness.
From behind a twisted tree, two demons slithered out, their twisted forms bent and hungry eyes glowing faintly.
“Hey! Hey! Get lost! This kid’s mine!” one snarled.
“No—you get lost! He’s my meal!” the other hissed, lips curled back over jagged teeth.
Sae’s gaze was cold, unshaken. His hand rested on his blade.
Two of them. Out of nowhere.
The demons argued louder, their voices harsh in the night.
“He’s my meal!”
“Shut up!”
And then—both lunged forward, claws outstretched, snarling in unison.
“The one who kills him first gets to eat him!”
“It’s been so long since I tasted flesh!”
Their words blurred into hunger.
Sae exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing.
Total concentration… Water Breathing.
The scent shifted. A thread appeared—red and taut.
I smell the thread.
Steel gleamed.
“Fourth Form: Striking Tide.”
In an instant, the katana swept in a smooth arc. The blade glided like water, guided by the thread’s pull.
Two heads flew into the air.
The demons’ snarls choked into silence. Their bodies collapsed before dissolving into nothing—vanishing as though they had never existed. Only tattered clothing remained on the forest floor.
Sae straightened, blade dripping, eyes calm.
Two demons were defeated. Sae's strength has grown. The training had worked.
He glanced once at the nichirin katana in his grip. Its steel pulsed faintly in the moonlight.
When this blade strikes… even bones crumble.
Without a word, he looked at the sky. Dark.
A stench rolled through the forest. Thick, foul, rancid.
Sae stopped mid-step, nostrils flaring.
What is that smell…? Rotten, unbearable…
Then—a figure burst past him, stumbling, screaming.
The boy’s face was pale with terror.
“Run! There’s a huge—deformed demon back there! I’ve never seen anything like it!”
His voice cracked. He didn’t look back. He just ran.
And then it came.
From the shadows, a massive shape lurched forward.
A demon—its body swathed in writhing arms. Dozens, maybe hundreds, fused and layered together, knotting its form until only two gleaming eyes peered out from the mass of hands.
One of those hands clutched a limp corpse by the throat. The body dangled, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Fingers squeezed until the bones cracked like dry twigs.
The stench of rot thickened.
The boy screamed again, too late. A hand shot out—long, sinewy, grotesque—and wrapped around his leg. His body slammed against the dirt as he clawed at the earth, shrieking.
Sae’s blade arm tensed. He could have walked away.
It wasn’t his concern.
But his thoughts steadied.
Help him. I must help him. I’m not powerless anymore.
He inhaled—controlled, sharp. The world slowed. The thread appeared, faint but true.
“Water Breathing, Second Form: Water Wheel.”
Steel flashed. The katana spun in a fluid arc, severing the grotesque hand that bound the boy. Black blood sprayed, sizzling against the earth.
The boy scrambled behind Sae, trembling so hard his teeth chattered. Sae stood before him, blade leveled. His expression calm, yet his eyes locked on the abomination.
The demon’s severed wrist writhed. Fingers twitched independently before the stump bubbled and reformed, birthing new hands like parasites.
Its gaze fixed on Sae.
And then, with a voice that hissed from beneath the layers of flesh, it spoke.
“Another of my dear… foxes has come.”
The words dripped with hatred, yet almost… familiarity.
Sae’s grip tightened.
On the boulder split in two, Kiyora sat in silence. His fox mask had been mended, faint cracks still visible along the edges.
From behind him came Kurona’s voice, soft yet uncertain, words rippling like a hesitant stream.
“Kiyora..? Do you think… Sae can really do it, it?”
Kiyora didn’t move at first. His gaze lingered in the forest far below. Then, in a calm tone, he answered:
“I don’t know. But… no amount of effort is ever too much. And you know that, right?”
Kurona lowered her head, as if the words pressed gently against her chest. Her fingers toyed with the flowers of her crown.
---
Far below, the scene shifted.
Sae stood firm, protecting the trembling boy behind him. His blade gleamed faintly in the moonlight, the stench of rot tightening in the air.
The demon’s many hands writhed and flexed, grasping the earth, grasping the air. Its eyes glittered with grotesque delight. When it spoke, its voice carried a mocking lilt Sae despised, a playful cruelty sharpened into madness.
“Tell me, fox boy… right now… what Meiji emperor sits upon the throne?”
The boy behind Sae whimpered, too terrified to speak. But Sae’s eyes stayed cold, his voice cutting through the night.
“The imperial family is Taisho.”
For a moment, silence. Then the demon threw its head back and roared with laughter—an eerie, broken sound that rattled through the forest like metal grinding against bone.
“Taisho?! Ahahaha! Dynasties have risen and fallen! Again and again! All while I have rotted here! Aaaaaghh! Unforgivable! Unforgivable! Damn Snuffy! Damn Snuffy! Damn him! Damn Snuffy!”
Its laughter turned to shrieks, rage spilling out like bile.
Sae’s eyes narrowed. His voice was flat.
“You know Snu—”
The demon cut him off, words snarled with venom.
“Oh, I know him. Snuffy, the one who captured me! I will never forget! Forty-seven years of torture in this prison! Back then, he was still a demon slayer. The Edo period… the Keio era!”
The boy behind Sae broke his silence, shouting in fear and disbelief.
“You’re lying! No demon lives that long! They only trap ones that ate two, maybe three people! And they get killed during selection! Demons eat each other too!”
The demon’s hands clawed at the ground, dragging the earth into furrows as it leaned closer, its grin stretching wide beneath the shifting mass of fingers.
“But I… survived. A very long time. In this prison of wisteria blossoms… I have devoured fifty of you brats!”
Sae’s chest tightened for the briefest second. His eyes flickered.
Fifty…?
Sae’s mind reeled back to Snuffy’s words.
“Remember… a demon’s strength comes from the number of people it has consumed.”
If it eats many people, it gets stronger?
“That’s right,” Snuffy had replied. “They grow stronger… and some change completely, gaining unnatural powers. If your nose sharpens, you’ll be able to tell… how many lives a demon has devoured.”
The lesson lingered. And then the demon began to count, each grotesque finger pointing toward Sae one by one.
“Twelve… thirteen… and you are fourteen.”
For the first time, Sae’s eyes flickered in surprise. His voice cut back, sharp as his blade.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
The demon giggled, many hands smothering its own mouth, laughter bubbling up in warped delight.
“That’s how many of Snuffy’s students I’ve eaten! His little foxes… all mine! Thirteen of them swallowed, thirteen fox masks broken! But above all—two I will never forget.”
Its voice grew almost nostalgic, sickly sweet.
“One wore a colorful jacket… strong, stronger than all the others. Black hair, scar by his mouth…”
Kiyora’s face flashed in Sae’s thoughts, the proud smile beneath the split mask.
The demon’s tone slithered lower, dripping with false tenderness.
“The other… a girl-brat. Her kimono was covered in flower- shark patterns. Her teeth are sharp like a shark. Small, not so strong… but agile, darting like a shark through water.”
Kurona.
Sae’s eyes widened, disbelief cracking through his stoicism. Impossible. They trained me… guided me.
The demon’s grin split wider, fingers twitching with hunger.
“I recognize you by those fox masks. I know the grain of the wood. The very way Snuffy carves them… the same as that tengu mask he once wore.”
In Sae’s mind’s eye, the mountain filled with scattered masks, all cracked, all empty.
“Did he call it a warding mask? Hah! I ate them because of those masks. Every last one! Snuffy fed them to me, one by one!”
Sae’s grip tightened on his katana. Rage burned beneath his calm, composure hardening into ice.
The demon’s chuckle turned jagged.
“Heh… the girl-brat trembled when I told her. Yes, she shook like a flower stalk in the wind. Her movements slipped, lost their rhythm. Then… hahahahaha! I tore the petals from her stem. One by one… I ripped off her arms and legs.”
In Sae’s mind, the vision came unbidden.
Kurona, delicate as the flowers she so often spoke of—now painted in blood. Her limbs torn, scattered like petals ripped away in a storm, her crown of blossoms trampled into mud.
The gentle echo of her voice—“strong, strong… brave, brave”—twisted into silence.
Sae snapped. The ice in his chest shattered into violence as he lunged, blade flashing. The demon’s swarm of hands surged to meet him—but Sae cut through them in an instant, steel carving flesh like paper. Fingers, wrists, arms fell in heaps around him, writhing on the dirt.
---
Above, on the broken boulder, Kiyora’s voice cut like a command.
“Stay calm, Sae. Your breathing is uneven. Don’t worry about us! Focus on what you must do!”
Kurona clutched her crown of sharks carved from wood, her soft voice echoing strangely against the night.
---
The demon roared, slamming into Sae with a tidal wave of limbs. The impact hurled him across the clearing—his body crashed against a tree, the trunk splintering. Blood ran down his temple, his vision shaking.
The boy Sae had protected earlier froze, then thought frantically:
While it’s beating on him, I’ll run! I’ll run away!
He bolted into the shadows, leaving Sae behind.
---
Sae staggered, barely upright, head pounding. The ground shook as a forest of hands clawed toward him. At the last possible moment, his eyes sharpened. His body twisted—and he slipped aside, the talons scraping past. The blade sang through the dark, cleaving arms one after another.
No matter how many I cut, more keep growing!
A sudden stench rose beneath him. Sae’s eyes narrowed—instinct snapped. He leapt skyward.
The ground split open. Hands erupted upward, snatching at empty air.
The demon’s thoughts snarled: He noticed! He leapt away! What a leap… but midair, he’s helpless! He can’t dodge this!
Dozens of hands thrust upward to smash him out of the sky.
Sae gritted his teeth—then rammed his skull forward. A headbutt. Bone against flesh. The impact broke a path. He kicked away, twisting free.
The demon’s thoughts spat fury: He escaped! I’m out of hands! I can’t grow more in time! The fox brat’s in striking range!
Its jagged grin widened. But my neck is hard. Impervious! Even the black-haired one couldn’t cut it!
In Sae’s mind, Kiyora’s smile flickered—his broken blade falling.
---
Now Sae was upon the demon. His blade arced, his stance perfect.
Total concentration…
The demon readied itself, anticipating curling into madness.
When he fails to cut me, I’ll crush his skull. Just like I did to the others.
---
From the boulder, Kurona’s voice trembled.
“Is it possible that Sae will lose too, too? That thing’s neck is so hard, hard…”
Kiyora’s reply was quiet, but firm.
“He may lose, or he may win. But one thing is certain— the boulder Sae cut was bigger and harder than anyone had ever cut before.”
Kurona’s eyes widened, hope threading through her worry.
---
Sae’s nostrils flared. A thread of scent. His vision narrowed. His blade moved.
First Form… Water Surface Slash!
Steel gleamed, moonlight bending around the edge as the strike fell.
Sae’s blade hovered an inch from the demon’s neck. His grip tightened.
That sound…
The demon paused. A rush of air hissed past his ears, like a storm in the trees.
I’ve heard it before. A raging wind.
The image flashed unbidden — younger Snuffy in his tengu mask, katana raised, about to strike the same demon decades earlier. But back then the creature still looked almost human: pale skin, wide eyes, no tangle of arms, only a man-shaped monster trembling before the blade.
The demon screamed into the memory:
“Snuffy!!!”
The vision snapped away. Sae’s sword moved. Steel met flesh.
---
The demon’s head rolled free.
“Curse you! Curse you! Die!!” the voice shrieked as its body began to crumble, dozens of severed hands twitching on the ground. Its thoughts twisted and unraveled as its form dissolved.
My body is crumbling away! I can’t stop it! And now he too will look upon me as something unclean. He will look at me with despising eyes. No! I’m too scared to close my eyes, but… I can’t change where my head is pointing!
Its vision locked on Sae’s face—the last sight it would ever have.
But Sae’s gaze wasn’t furious. It wasn’t even angry. It was cold, yes, but cold with pity.
The demon’s thoughts cracked apart.
How did this happen? I’m scared. I’m alone in the night. Hold my hand the way you used to. Why did I bite my brother and kill him? Huh? Who is my big brother…?
For an instant its human face surfaced beneath the monstrous mask—bloody, crying, eyes wide with confusion.
Sae stood silently before the disintegrating body. The smell of iron and rot curled upward—but beneath it, something else.
I smell… sadness.
Slowly, deliberately, Sae reached down and took the demon’s trembling hand.
The demon’s head wept as its fingers dissolved like ash, seeing Sae’s cold eyes still fixed on it.
When this demon is reborn, Sae thought, don’t let him become a demon again.
Inside its breaking mind, the demon’s memories spilled out like water:
Please… please, please! Hold my hand! Well, if I have to! You’re such a scaredy-cat…
A fleeting image: two boys as humans, one older, one younger, hands clasped, laughing by a riverbank. Then gone.
---
The demon’s body vanished completely, leaving only silence.
Sae remained standing, blade lowered.
Kiyora… Kurona…
On the split boulder above, Kiyora still sat, Kurona at his side. Around them stood the hazy silhouettes of Snuffy’s fallen students—watching, waiting.
I won. You don’t have to worry anymore.
The weight of the thought pressed against the night.
The other children the demon killed… probably became spirits… and returned as promised. To Snuffy, whom they liked so much. And to their home on Mount Sagiri.
Sae’s eyes hardened, but his chest felt heavy.
If I had died, my spirit would have returned… to Rin and Snuffy.
The wind blew through the wisteria above, scattering petals like soft rain. Sae tightened his grip on the sword, then turned away.
---
For the next seven days, Sae walked the mountain drenched in blood and moonlight.
Every night, the forest echoed with the shrieks of demons. Every day, the corpses of would-be swordsmen grew fewer.
Sae killed them all—demons that crawled, demons that leapt from the trees, demons with claws, with scales, with fangs that gleamed like knives. His blade drank from them again and again, until the smell of rot clung to his clothes and skin.
On the third night, he nearly collapsed—his body trembling, his lungs on fire from constant breathing techniques. But Snuffy’s voice echoed in his memory:
“Don’t whine, Sae. Keep breathing. Even when you think you can’t. That’s when you must breathe most of it.”
So Sae kept moving. Sword raised. Breath steady. Eyes sharp.
Eighth demons. Their faces blurred into one single mass of claws and teeth. But each time he cut, he thought of Rin. Each time he survived, he thought of Snuffy.
And when exhaustion clawed at him, he thought of the children’s spirits—those who had been swallowed, who returned to Mount Sagiri as whispers in the wind.
---
On the seventh morning, the wisteria parted.
The mountain was quiet. No more shrieks. No more claws. Only dawn breaking over the horizon.
Four figures stood together at the clearing—bloody, ragged, but alive.
And beside them, the two attendants in ceremonial robes, waiting with calm eyes.
The black-haired girl, Shin, bowed her head.
“Welcome back.”
The white-haired girl, Mio, smiled faintly.
“Congratulations. I am glad you are safe.”
Sae’s gaze swept the survivors.
Only four of us?
He remembered nearly twenty had entered.
He clenched his fists.
That one kid isn’t here either… The boy I tried to protect. I lost consciousness for a time and… he disappeared. I couldn’t save him.
The survivors stood in silence.
One girl with long, fluffy black hair tied in ponytails looked serene, her face hidden beneath strands of hair as a butterfly landed on her hand.
Another boy with dark blue hair streaked green at the tips stood tall, mismatched eyes—blue and green—steady with quiet confidence.
The third was a blond with yellow eyes. Restless. Sharp-tongued. He scoffed.
“So? What am I supposed to do now? Where’s my katana?”
Mio’s calm voice answered, “First, we will provide your Corps uniform. We will take your measurements and engrave your rank.”
Shin added with a solemn tone, “There are ten ranks: Kinoe, Kinoto, Hinoe, Hinoto, Tsuchinoe, Tsuchinoto, Kanoe, Kanoto, Mizunoe, and Mizunoto. Right now, you are all the bottom rank—Mizunoto.”
The blond boy narrowed his eyes. “Where’s my katana?”
Mio’s smile didn’t waver.
“Today you will choose the ore for your sword. It will take up to two weeks for your katana to be finished. Then, you will each be assigned a Kasugai crow.”
Right then, black shapes broke across the morning sky—wings cutting through dawn.
A flock of Kasugai crows descended, each one circling before choosing its master.
One of them landed gently in Sae’s arms, glossy feathers brushing against his sleeve. It blinked at him with sharp, intelligent eyes, tilting its head as if already weighing his worth.
Another landed neatly upon the fluffy-haired girl’s arm. She didn’t flinch—her calm posture unchanged—as a butterfly briefly alighted on her wrist beside the bird, the two creatures resting together in eerie harmony.
The boy with dark-blue hair and green streaks at the tips frowned when a much smaller bird fluttered onto his shoulder.
“…A sparrow?” he muttered, confused. “Huh? Everyone else got crows, but this… is a sparrow.”
Shin, the black-haired girl, finally spoke. Her voice was low, firm, but not unkind.
“Kasugai crows are generally used for communication… but not always. Some swordsmen are chosen differently. Accept what you are given.”
Sae glanced down at the crow in his arms. Its feathers were warm against his skin, its steady gaze almost… grounding.
Kasugai crow… so this is my companion.
But when Sae turned his head, the air suddenly shifted.
The blond boy had slapped his crow away, the bird flapping its wings in alarm.
“I don’t care… about crows!!” the boy shouted, his yellow eyes flaring with anger. His hand shot out, grabbing Mio—the white-haired girl—by her hair, yanking her roughly.
“Katana!!” he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. “I want my katana! And I want it now! A Demon Slayer Corps katana! A color-changing katana!!”
The other survivors froze. Even the dark-blue-haired boy, who seemed confident moments ago, stood stunned, his sparrow fluttering nervously behind his head.
The crow the blond boy had slapped away returned stubbornly, landing back on his arm, pecking at him anxiously as if to scold him. He ignored it.
For a moment, Sae told himself to look away—to let this play out. But the sight of Mio struggling, her pale hair caught in that boy’s fist, sparked something raw inside him.
Rin…
Before the blond could tighten his grip, Sae was there.
His hand clamped around the boy’s wrist like an iron. His voice came out low, sharp, burning with restrained fury:
“Let go of this child. If you don’t… I’ll break your arm.”
The blond boy bared his teeth.
“Huh?! Who the hell are you?! Just you try it!!”
Sae didn’t waste words. He twisted, shoving the boy’s arm away with enough force to stagger him back. The blond stumbled, nearly falling, his crow flapping to steady him. He glared at Sae, his chest heaving with rage, but something in Sae’s cold eyes made him hesitate.
Sae stepped forward, planting himself in front of Mio like a wall. His crow shifted its wings but did not leave him, as though acknowledging its master’s resolve.
Shin finally broke the tension. She hadn’t moved the whole time, but her calm presence carried more weight than shouting ever could.
“Are you done talking?” she asked simply. “Then come here. Choose the ore for making your katana. You will select it yourself—the ore that will become the blade to kill demons… and to protect you.”
The blond boy clenched his fists, but said nothing more.
The four survivors followed, the atmosphere heavy as they stepped toward the pile of gleaming ores waiting for them.
---
Meanwhile, far away…
A Kasugai crow soared through the sky and landed lightly on its master’s arm. The man, draped in authority, watched as the bird settled. His expression was unreadable, but his words carried both amusement and weight. His wife beside him said
“Oh… five survived? Excellent. My unpolished gems have increased in number again.”
The man said with his eyes narrowed slightly, voice lowering.
“I wonder… what kind of swordsmen they will become?”
---
The road stretched long and uneven beneath Sae’s feet. His shoulder bag swayed with each step, digging into his sore muscles. In one hand he clutched a long wooden stick, leaning on it to keep moving forward. His clothes were filthy, torn from battle, dried blood still clinging stubbornly to the fabric. Bandages wrapped his head, already stained faintly through.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
I was too optimistic. During the Final Selection, I encountered eight demons… but I wasn’t able to talk with any of them. Not once. They all rushed in to kill me… lukewarm, thoughtless. I never got to ask… how to return demons to human form.
A pair of villagers passed by on the dirt road—a man carrying a basket, and his young son. They slowed, staring at the ragged boy trudging by with hollow eyes, his body covered in dirt and blood, leaning on a stick like a wounded wanderer. The child’s wide eyes followed Sae silently, but Sae did not return their gaze. He only kept walking, shoulders sagging.
I’m sorry, Rin. I’m sorry.
For a brief, fleeting moment, Rin’s soft smile appeared in his memory. Not bright or wide, just small… gentle. The kind of smile that seemed to forgive everything without a word.
The image lingered in his mind even as his body screamed in pain.
I want to go back as soon as possible… but my whole body hurts, and I can’t. Even my uniform feels so heavy. Ever since I started descending Mount Fujikasane, this exhaustion has been crushing me.
The stick in his hand scraped against the stones as his knees buckled slightly, but he forced himself upright again.
Above him, a dark shape circled—his Kasugai crow, wings cutting across the orange sky. The bird called sharply, as though urging him to keep moving.
The sun was already slipping down the horizon, painting the road in dying light.
Sae’s thought:
Ah… the sun is already setting. But I made it. Rin… Snuffy… I’m coming home.
The dirt path gave way to the familiar clearing of Mount Sagiri. Sae raised his head, weary eyes locking on the sight ahead—Snuffy’s house.
But something was wrong. The front door had been kicked clean off its hinges. His body tensed, alarm surging through his chest. He staggered forward, hand gripping his walking stick tighter—
Then he froze.
A figure stepped out from the broken doorway. His hair, long and unkempt, swayed faintly in the breeze—dark moss green. His steps were calm, measured—until his eyes lifted and met Sae’s.
Sae’s breath stopped.
“Rin! You… you’re awake!!”
For only a heartbeat Rin stood still, blinking at him. Then, without hesitation, he broke into a run. His dark moss green hair trailed behind him as he sprinted down the path.
Sae tried to move as well, forcing his battered body forward. “Rin…”
But his legs betrayed him. His knees buckled, and his body crumpled.
Before he could hit the ground, warm arms wrapped around him—desperate, trembling, alive. Rin dropped to his knees, clutching Sae’s head against his chest.
For the first time, Sae’s eyes blurred. The cold composure he carried shattered as his chest heaved, and tears streaked down his face. For so long he had feared Rin would never wake—that his brother’s life had already slipped away in endless sleep.
He didn’t speak. Words would break the moment. Instead, he clung to Rin as if the boy might vanish again if he let go.
Then heavy footsteps approached. Snuffy’s familiar presence loomed before them, and without hesitation, the man’s strong arms pulled both boys into his embrace.
His voice cracked, tears spilling freely.
“You came back to us alive!”
For a moment, there was no training, no demons, no battles. Only warmth, tears, and the fragile, irreplaceable weight of family in each other’s arms.
---
Fifteen days later.
The air outside was crisp when Sae slid open the wooden door and peeked out.
“Snuffy—” he began, but stopped.
A tall man was approaching. His steps were deliberate, his presence commanding. A wide kasa hat shadowed his face, the brim decorated with dangling charms—omamori-like talismans tied with string, each ending with a small wooden piece. They swayed softly as he walked, adding a ceremonial air to his arrival.
The man halted before him.
“I am called Lavinho,” he said in a deep, rolling voice. “I am the one who forged Itoshi Sae’s katana.”
Sae blinked, then gave a small nod. “I’m Sae.” He slid the door wider to let him inside.
Once within the humble house, Lavinho lowered himself to the tatami mat, his kasa shifting slightly. He placed a long, wrapped bundle on the floor between them.
“This is a Nichirin blade. I forged it with my own hands.”
Sae knelt nearby, listening without expression. After a pause, he rose to the kettle, quietly preparing tea.
Unbothered, Lavinho continued speaking, his tone like a sermon.
“The iron sand and ore that form a Nichirin sword are gathered from the mountain closest to the sun. Scarlet iron sand, scarlet ore—both absorb sunlight. On Mount Yoko, the sun shines all year. No rain falls. No clouds gather. It is the mountain of unbroken flame.”
In the corner, Snuffy sat beside Rin, who was curled beneath a blanket. Snuffy’s gaze slid toward Sae, his thoughts heavy: As usual… he doesn’t truly listen to anyone.
When Lavinho finally looked at Sae, the boy noticed the man’s face concealed behind a Hyōtan mask, its strange and otherworldly features.
“You—” Lavinho’s voice dropped, almost reverent, “you are a child of brightness. What fortune!”
Sae frowned. “No.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Lavinho said, amused. “Your hair carries the red of fire. Children like you are rare. Be grateful—you may one day wield flame itself.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It means your blade may burn bright red,” Lavinho pressed, turning toward Snuffy. “Right, old man?”
Snuffy gave a quiet nod. “Yes.”
“Go on then,” Lavinho urged, his tone swelling with anticipation. “Draw your sword.”
Sae set down the teacup and approached the bundle. With deliberate calm, he slid the blade free. The light struck it—then the steel shifted.
The katana turned black.
Both Lavinho and Snuffy spoke at once.
“Jet black…”
Sae’s eyes narrowed. “Is black bad? Unlucky?”
Snuffy’s tone was even, though weighted.
“No. Not bad. But… jet black is rarely seen.”
“Uooooohhh!” Lavinho suddenly wailed, clutching his head like a child denied candy. “I thought I would see a bright red blade! At last! Damn it all!”
Before Sae could react, the man lunged forward and pinched his cheek hard.
Sae’s glare sharpened. “Let go of me, old man!”
Lavinho puffed his chest indignantly. “I’m only thirty!”
Before their argument could escalate, a sudden flutter of wings filled the house. Sae’s kasugai crow swooped in, landing on a wooden beam above.
“Kaw! Itoshi Sae!” it cried. “Head to a northern town! This is your first duty as a demon slayer!”
Sae stiffened, looking up. It’s talking…?
“Kaw!” the crow cried again, wings flaring. “Beware! In the northern town, young girls are vanishing—night after night!”
Its caws spilled into visions—
A boy and girl walking through lamplit streets, the boy holding a lantern steady.
“Kaw! Girls…”
The girl stumbles. When the boy turns to help her—
“Kaw! Girls…”
The boy spins around—the street is empty. The girl is gone. Only a sandal and a gift box lie on the dirt road.
“Kaw! Disappearing!!”
The crow’s cries lingered like an omen, sharp and terrible in the silence of the house.
Notes:
Kiyora and Kurona my baby...
Guess who is Kanao, Genya and Zantetsu
Guess who is the parents of Mio and Shin?
Guess who is ubuyashiki?
(Please correct me if anything is wrong.)
Chapter 2: The demon king encounter
Summary:
After surviving the horrors of the swamp demon, Sae finds himself standing before an even greater threat—the elusive and terrifying Demon King.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Snuffy’s voice still echoed in Sae’s head as he walked down the dirt road into the northern town. The autumn wind blew against him, carrying the faint scent of burning firewood, earth, and old rain. His hand rested against the hilt of the Nichirin blade at his hip, and the heavy silence of the memory came back to him as clearly as if Snuffy stood beside him.
> “Nichirin swords change color depending on their bearer, Sae. Each color has distinct characteristics, strengths that reflect the person’s nature. But…”
Sae had looked down at his blade then, freshly forged, the obsidian surface swallowing the sunlight instead of reflecting it. No luster, no warmth—only cold black.
> “…very few swordsmen ever awaken black swords. So few, in fact, that little is known about them. They are so unknown, so mysterious, that whispers say those with black blades die young. That unsuccessful swordsmen… carry black blades.”
The words had stung, though Snuffy’s voice was not cruel when he spoke to them. It was calm, factual, without the intention to discourage. Still, the implication clung to Sae’s chest is like a curse.
But Sae wasn’t one to falter over words. Unsuccessful? He thought bitterly as his hand tightened on the hilt. If I were truly destined for failure, Rin would already be dead. Snuffy would have abandoned me long ago. No—I’ll carve my own meaning into this black blade.
The villagers of the northern town turned their heads as he passed, whispering among themselves. His presence was hard to ignore: the demon slayer uniform fit him sharply, the dark fabric absorbing the dim light of the setting sun. His footsteps carried the steady rhythm of someone trained, someone hardened.
The uniform stretched and flexed as he walked, lighter than it appeared but sturdy as armor. Sae had tested it once already, cutting his own palm against his sword and dragging the bloodied hand across the sleeve. Not even a mark remained.
> “The Demon Slayer Corps uniform,” Snuffy had explained that day, standing tall and serious, his hand placed on Sae’s shoulder. “It is made from a fabric like no other. It breathes easily, keeping you swift and cool. It resists water and flame, and more importantly… even the claws and fangs of lesser demons cannot rend it.”
Sae had tugged at the collar then, skeptical, but he trusted Snuffy’s word.
And then there was the box.
Sae’s back ached slightly under its weight, though it was lighter than any normal wooden chest of its size should be. The lacquered Kirikumo cedar gleamed faintly as he adjusted the strap over his shoulder.
> “Also… take this,” Snuffy had said, placing the wooden box before him. His voice had been quieter that day, more deliberate. “It’s a box for carrying your brother during the day. I carved it from Kirikumo cedar—wood lighter than air, yet stronger than iron. I coated it in rock lacquer to harden the surface. It is tougher than any ordinary box, and it will endure the weight of your burden.”
Rin had been inside, curled like a child in sleep, his dark moss-green hair spilling around his face. The thought of sealing him into a box had struck Sae as cruel at first, but when he looked closer, he realized Rin’s breathing remained steady, peaceful, almost comforted by the dark.
> “…Instead of eating the flesh of humans,” Snuffy had said gravely, “there is speculation that Rin sustains himself through sleep. That he regains strength not from blood, but from dreams. Perhaps this is his way of resisting the demon within him. Treasure that difference, Sae. It may be his salvation.”
Sae remembered placing his hand against the box’s side. He felt warmth seeping through, faint but alive, and his resolve hardened. Then I’ll carry him, no matter where I go. I’ll be his legs in the sun, his sword in the night.
---
The streets of the northern town were narrow, lined with wooden houses that leaned toward one another as if whispering their own secrets. The lanterns swayed faintly with the wind, their orange glow fighting back against the evening shadows. Sae walked slowly, the weight of the wooden box digging against his back in rhythm with every step. His uniform brushed against his knees, the fabric firm yet surprisingly light, though the weight in his chest was heavier than steel.
Sae’s gaze shifted when he passed a boy leaning against a fence post, his shoulders hunched. His face bore fresh bruises, purple and green spreading across his cheekbone. His eyes, though open, were dull—sunken into a sorrow too heavy for someone his age. His lips moved slightly, but no sound came out, as though he had been talking to himself for days and no one cared to answer.
Sae slowed without meaning to. The boy’s presence lingered in his mind, but he walked past—until another sound caught him.
A cluster of women had gathered a few steps away, their voices carrying through the night air. They whispered in that particular tone of gossip, sharp enough to cut and cruel enough to wound.
> “Look at Kazumi… so pitifully haggard.”
“Of course he is. He was with Satoko when she disappeared.”
“Yes, yes. They say it happened right in front of him.”
“Night after night, another girl vanishes. It’s so creepy.”
“Awful. When the sun sets, you can almost feel it waiting. Another young girl will be gone before dawn.”
Their voices blended into the sound of the wind, but Sae had already taken it all in. His eyes returned to the boy—Kazumi.
So, he thought, this is the one who was last with the missing girl. That was enough information. The demons always left traces in rumor, in grief, in the scars of the people left behind. Sae had heard what he needed. He turned slightly, his body ready to walk away and continue his search.
But his steps stuck. Kurona’s face flashed across his thoughts—her quiet but unwavering gaze, the way she never looked away from people’s pain. Snuffy’s voice followed, heavy but steady, carrying lessons Sae didn’t want to admit had shaped him. Neither of them would approve of him ignoring this boy.
Sae breathed out slowly. Not for them, he told himself stubbornly. His chest tightened as he shifted the weight of the box on his back. For Rin.
Reluctantly, he stepped closer. His voice came low, quiet, almost unwilling.
“…Kazumi. I would like to speak with you. If I may?”
It was hardly more than a murmur, yet the boy’s head lifted at once. His tired eyes blinked in confusion at the stranger before him, but he nodded. Something in Sae’s presence—firm, controlled, different from the villagers—cut through his haze. Without a word, Kazumi motioned with his hand and began to walk.
Sae followed, his footsteps crunching softly on the gravel. The women’s whispers died behind them, replaced by the hush of night. The streets thinned into the outskirts, where fewer lanterns glowed and the shadows stretched long.
Kazumi stopped at a lonely stretch of ground, his hand gripping the sleeve of his worn clothes. His voice trembled when he finally spoke.
“This is… where Satoko disappeared.”
The place was unremarkable at first glance. Just a dirt path leading toward the woods, a scattering of fallen leaves, and the faint smell of damp earth. But Sae felt it at once—the emptiness that clung to the air, as if the ground itself remembered the fear. He set his jaw, scanning the spot with sharp eyes.
Kazumi’s voice wavered again. “I—I was with her. I turned for just a moment… and she was gone. I didn’t even hear a scream. Only her sandal and gift box was left.”
His fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. “Everyone blames me. They whisper behind my back. But I… I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save her.”
The boy’s shoulders shook, the weight of helplessness spilling out. Sae looked at him for a long moment, silent. The words reminded him of himself—standing before Rin, powerless, begging for something he could not change.
Sae didn’t answer with comfort. That wasn’t his way. But his gaze sharpened as he looked back at the path, and his hand brushed against the hilt of his blade.
“I see,” he said simply.
Kazumi glanced up, startled by the calmness in his tone, but Sae was already stepping forward, his mind turning. This was enough. He had the place, the timing, and the truth buried in the grief of a boy who could no longer bear the whispers of others.
As the wind swept through the trees, carrying the scent of nightfall, Sae’s thoughts hardened. A demon is here. And I’ll find it.
His voice cracked with shame and helplessness. “You may not believe me, but—”
“I do.”
Sae’s interruption was blunt, clipped, almost cold. But there was no hesitation in it, no doubt. He crouched low, his hand brushing lightly against the ground, and drew in a long, steady breath through his nose.
The faint odor of a demon remains… but it’s uneven. Broken, scattered, unlike the usual scent trails. Unnatural. Unusual.
Kazumi froze, staring. What is this kid doing? Who is he?
His thoughts wavered back to that day—the day Satoko was taken. The memory clawed its way through him: Satoko’s father lunging at him in blind fury, his fists landing again and again.
“Don’t joke with me!! You say she disappeared?!” the man had shouted, his voice raw with grief and rage. “Why you—!!”
And Satoko’s mother, weeping, pulling at her husband’s arms, crying, “Please stop! Please!”
Kazumi’s jaw clenched at the memory, shame and guilt crashing like waves. He had no answers, only the memory of her sandal lying in the dirt.
Night fell fully.
Elsewhere in the town, a girl closed the shutters of her room, the lantern beside her flickering. She folded her hands, whispering a silent prayer for those already lost. I wonder what happened to those girls… I hope they’re all right…
She slid beneath the covers, exhaustion finally claiming her. Her eyelids grew heavy—then, without warning, the floor beneath her bed rippled as if made of water.
A black swamp opened like a mouth.
Two pale hands emerged, cold and dripping, clamping over her mouth before she could scream. Her eyes snapped wide, terror blazing. The surface swallowed her whole, pulling her down into suffocating darkness. Within moments, the room was empty again—only the faint ripple of the swamp before it vanished, leaving nothing but silence.
Back at the disappearance site, Sae’s head lifted sharply. His nostrils flared. His eyes narrowed.
He didn’t hesitate. His body moved before his thoughts caught up, legs exploding into a sprint.
Kazumi gasped. “What happened?!”
But Sae didn’t answer immediately. His speed was startling, his movement so quick Kazumi’s eyes couldn’t follow.
He’s fast… faster than anyone I’ve ever seen…
At the last moment, Sae spoke over his shoulder, voice clipped but carrying. “The smell is getting stronger. It’s a demon.”
Kazumi froze where he stood. The words hit him like a hammer, locking his breath in his throat. A demon? The stories were true? Then, as he lifted his eyes, his disbelief shattered entirely—
Sae leapt.
Not like a normal man leaping onto a roof. His body sailed upward with fluid, effortless strength, landing on the tiled roof as if it were flat ground. He ran across the ridges with impossible balance, his eyes scanning, his breathing steady.
Kazumi’s chest heaved as he struggled to catch up, his mind reeling. That jump… it’s true. The Demon Slayer Corps… it’s real!
Sae’s expression, however, remained cold, focused. Almost as though this were not extraordinary, but routine. He stopped, crouching low, his nose to the air.
Here. It’s here. Two scents—the reek of a demon, thick and foul, and the faint trace of a human woman. But… where? I can’t see them… Yet the scent—
His grip tightened on the hilt of his blade. His gaze snapped to the earth.
The scent is strongest… right here.
He stabbed his katana down into the dirt with a sharp thrust.
The ground rippled.
A girl appear as a swamp opened beneath her, and pale hands clawed up, clutching her clothes. Before the swamp could drag her under, Sae lunged. His arms hooked around her, pulling her against him as he vaulted back, landing lightly on the street.
The woman clung unconscious in his grasp, her hair falling across her face, but Sae’s expression never wavered—cold, steady, almost detached. He placed her gently on her feet, though his eyes never left the ground.
From the black surface of the swamp, a demon rose.
Its body was slick, its eyes gleaming yellow. Three horns jutted from its forehead, curving upward like grotesque blades. Its mouth stretched wide in a snarl, teeth jagged, hands clawed and dripping.
Sae’s mind registered the details with precision.
A demon with supernatural abilities. A Blood Demon Art. Some demons wield powers that twist the laws of the world. If you face one like that, you must adapt… or die.
Kazumi stumbled into view behind him, panting, his eyes wide as he froze in horror at the sight of the horned monster.
Sae’s voice cut through the air like steel.
“Where are the girls you kidnapped?!” His eyes narrowed, a shadow flickering across his expression. “…Also, tell me about—”
The demon’s growl drowned him out, its teeth grinding as it sank back into the swamp, vanishing.
Sae glanced at the unconscious woman again—and for a heartbeat, his chest tightened. Her hair, long and dark, fell across her cheek in a way that mirrored Rin’s.
He clenched his jaw. …Rin.
“Kazumi.”
The boy jumped at the sound of his name.
“Take her. Stay beside me. If you stay within my reach, I can protect you.”
Sae placed the woman into Kazumi’s arms. The boy held her awkwardly, trembling, but nodded without argument.
Sae closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deep. The stench was everywhere, clinging to the earth. It can appear from the ground, the walls… even thin air. But even submerged, its scent doesn’t fade. That means—
His eyes snapped open. The surface of the ground rippled.
It’s coming.
He inhaled sharply. “Water Breathing… Fifth Form—”
But then his breath caught as three separate ripples split around him. His eyes widened slightly.
Three…?
From the swamp, three demons rose at once, their snarls shaking the night.
Sae’s grip tightened. His voice steadied. Stay calm. I can do this.
He drew in a breath so deep the air hissed against his teeth, his blade poised low.
“Water Breathing…”
The demons lunged.
“Eighth Form—Waterfall Basin!”
He spun, blade arcing in a powerful sweep, his katana carving through the night as water surged to life, crashing downward in a torrent meant to crush all beneath it.
The battle had begun.
---
Snuffy’s voice came back to him in fragments, like an echo that refused to leave his mind. Sae remembered the weight in his master’s tone, the deliberate calm that masked a truth darker than any night.
> “Only one demon in this world… has blood that can turn humans into demons. One being who became the very first demon over a thousand years ago. In other words, Sae—”
Sae had sat stiff, his fists clenched on his knees, his head lowered so his eyes hid beneath his fringe.
> “—it is that demon who killed your family.”
Snuffy’s words struck like the flat of a blade, sharp but controlled. They held no comfort, only truth.
> “And I think… he is the only one who knows the way to return your brother’s humanity.”
A pause. Even the crows outside the house had fallen silent then, as though the world itself braced for the weight of that name.
> “This demon’s name is… Bunny Iglesias.”
Sae’s head had lifted slightly, his expression unreadable. His eyes, however, burned like a smoldering coal.
Inside, though, his thoughts snapped sharp and bitter. Bunny Iglesias? That’s the name of the demon who destroyed everything? What a shitty name. Like a drunk priest tripped into a rabbit hutch.
His lips didn’t move, but rage rolled in his chest, hot and suffocating. I’ll carve that stupid name into my blade when I cut his head off.
Snuffy must have seen the fire, but he said nothing. He didn’t need to. The truth was enough.
---
Sae’s sword dripped faintly with water as he landed in a crouch, his breath even, his eyes scanning the air. The three swamp demons hissed, circling him from the shifting pools at his feet. Their yellow eyes gleamed with hunger and malice, their clawed hands twitching with eagerness.
Sae exhaled, narrowing his eyes. His chest still thrummed with the memory of Snuffy’s words, that cursed name burning at the edges of his mind. He tightened his grip.
Too shallow.
The last strike replayed in his head, his blade slicing through flesh but not bone, tearing through muscle but not vitals.
I missed all of the demon’s weak points because I switched forms mid-swing. Careless.
The demons growled in unison, their teeth flashing. Then, like ink spilling across paper, their bodies melted into the swamp.
The ground quivered. The black pools rippled. And in an instant—
They were gone.
The swamp itself vanished with them, leaving only damp dirt and silence.
Sae straightened, his sword still poised, his eyes darting across the empty street. His breathing remained steady, but a tightness tugged in his chest.
They retreated. Waiting. Testing me. They won’t stop until they’re forced to.
Behind him, Kazumi’s ragged breathing filled the stillness. He clutched the unconscious girl to his chest, sweat rolling down his temple, his eyes wide with fear.
Sae didn’t look back, but his words came flat, cold, carrying the weight of command.
“Stay close. Don’t wander, or they’ll drag you under before you can scream.”
Kazumi swallowed, his throat dry, and nodded shakily.
Sae’s eyes flickered toward the dirt again, scanning for ripples, his body tense like a drawn bow. Blood Demon Art users are never simple. If three of them share one swamp… then their tricks must run deep. No mistakes this time.
And in the back of his mind, the fire still smoldered.
Bunny Iglesias. If you’re the one behind all this… if Rin’s fate is tied to your blood… then I’ll make sure you regret ever letting me live.
---
Sae stood firmly in front of Kazumi, his blade angled slightly downward, his eyes fixed on the rippling ground. Kazumi trembled where he stood, clutching the unconscious girl tightly against his chest. His breath was shallow, but he did not move, too afraid to draw the demons’ attention.
All three smell exactly the same, Sae thought, his gaze narrowing. Demons don’t usually fight in packs. Which means… there aren’t three demons at all. It’s one, split into three. A Blood Demon Art.
His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. Protecting two people while fighting three bodies… Can’t let it get to me. I need to lure them in, end them quickly. But before that… I have to get them to talk. About Bunny Iglesias. About whether there’s a way to turn Rin back into a human.
The thought clenched his chest, but before he could pursue it further, the swamp rippled.
The Two Horns Swamp Demon burst out from the black pool, claws extended, its yellow eyes fixed on Kazumi. It lunged forward, aiming to slash the boy apart in one strike.
Sae’s eyes sharpened.
Total concentration breathing… Water Breathing, Second Form: Water Wheel.
He spun in a clean arc, blade flashing with water’s reflection. Steel met flesh—cutting across the demon’s chest. Black blood sprayed across the dirt, sizzling where it landed.
The Two Horns Swamp Demon screeched, recoiling, its chest torn open.
Sae’s expression didn’t change. Too shallow again. I need to stop splitting my forms mid-strike.
The demon snarled, clutching its wound before dissolving into the swamp once more, retreating fast along with the inky pool beneath it. Sae clicked his tongue, his teeth gritted.
Urghh. I can’t chase too far, not while protecting these two. I’ll have to lure them back in… make them slip.
From within the darkness, the Two Horns Swamp Demon’s voice erupted, ragged and hateful:
> “You bassstard! Don’t interffferre! You’ll rrruin the girl’s fffressshness! She’s already ssssixteen yearsss old! With each passing moment, she gets less tasssty!”
Another ripple. A second figure rose—this one the One Horn Swamp Demon, bearing a single crooked horn from its forehead. Its grin stretched unnaturally wide as it dragged itself from the swamp.
> “I mussst calm down,” it hissed. “Oh well. Nevermind. There’s alwaysss tonight. I’ve eaten quite a few sixteen-year-old girlsss in this town. They were all meaty… and quiet tasssty. Good enough for me.”
Its tongue slid across its teeth with a wet sound.
The Two Horns Swamp Demon snarled back, its voice full of hunger.
> “Not good enough for me!! I’m still hungry!! I won’t stop until I’m full!!”
Their voices echoed hideously in the night air.
Behind Sae, Kazumi’s grip on the unconscious girl shook, but he raised his voice despite the fear.
“You monster… let Satoko go! You took her two nights ago!”
His words cracked at the edges, but the strength behind them was real.
Then, from above, came another presence.
Sae’s eyes flicked up. On the rooftop, crouched in the moonlight, was the Three Horns Swamp Demon, its growl rumbling through the street like rolling thunder. Its three twisted horns curved like blades, its grin filled with jagged teeth.
The One Horn Swamp Demon chuckled darkly, stepping closer.
“Satoko? Who isss that?”
It pulled open its ragged haori, revealing what hung inside: rows upon rows of glittering trophies. Hairpins, ribbons, trinkets—the belongings of countless victims.
“If her hairpin is among this collection,” the One Horn Swamp Demon sneered, raising one delicately between clawed fingers, “then I’ve already eaten her.”
Kazumi’s eyes widened. His breath caught as the world seemed to collapse.
There, nestled among the grisly collection, was Satoko’s ribbon.
The sight tore through him like a blade. His knees buckled as tears blurred his vision, spilling freely down his face.
“Satoko…”
A flash of memory—her smile, her laugh, her warmth. Gone. Devoured.
Kazumi clutched the unconscious girl tighter, shaking as grief and horror overwhelmed him. His voice cracked, but his sobs still clawed into the night.
Sae’s eyes burned, his composure finally cracking. His chest rose and fell faster, breath hissing between clenched teeth. For so long he had kept the storm locked inside, cold on the surface, silent in his rage. But the swamp demons’ words, their sick laughter, their trophies of the dead—it finally shattered his restraint.
Mother’s blood, her lifeless hands…
The memory rushed back to him with cruel sharpness. His mother’s face, gentle and tired, stained with red as the demons tore into their home. And then—Rin. His younger brother, smiling like sunlight even in the poorest of days. That smile… replaced by blood.
Sae’s grip tightened around his Nichirin blade until the leather creaked. His jaw locked, his body trembling with fury he could no longer contain.
Suddenly, the Three Horns Swamp Demon surged beside him, bursting from the ground with terrifying speed. Its claws whipped through the air, aiming to carve him apart.
But Sae moved like water itself—sliding away in a breath, his body twisting with grace. The demon’s strike slammed into a wooden wall behind them, splintering it apart with a thunderous crack.
Sae’s blade slashed instantly across its body, water arcing like a silver crescent.
But as the demon shrieked and slipped back into the ground, Sae cursed inwardly.
Missed again! It sinks into the swamp too quickly…
Before he could reset his stance, the Two Horns Swamp Demon lunged straight out of a wall at his flank.
“Urghh—too close… to the wall!”
Sae barely twisted away, the claws grazing his sleeve as he rolled aside. His blade lashed back in a counter, but the strike only cut air as the demon slithered into the shadows.
Then, a new danger.
The One Horn Swamp Demon rose before him, its crooked horn catching the moonlight. Sae planted his feet, inhaled deep, and steadied himself.
Total Concentration. Water Breathing.
He raised his sword, muscles coiling. His eyes fixed on the demon’s neck—his mark for death.
But just as he was about to strike, the Two Horns Swamp Demon appeared again, this time behind him. Its jagged mouth widened, claws raised, ready to pierce straight through Sae’s unguarded back.
Sae hadn’t noticed.
The claws fell—
And then—
A thunderous crack erupted from behind.
The wooden box strapped to Sae’s back exploded outward as a pale leg burst free. In one swift, devastating motion, the leg slammed into the Two Horns Swamp Demon’s head. The demon’s skull twisted, its body jerking violently before its head tore clean off its shoulders. The pieces dissolved into black ash, scattering into the night.
Kazumi gasped aloud, frozen in shock as he clutched the unconscious girl tighter. His wide eyes darted from Sae, to the broken box, to what had emerged from within.
From the settling shadows, a figure began to stir.
The Three Horns Swamp Demon snarled in annoyance, its eyes narrowing.
The One Horn Swamp Demon hissed, taking a cautious step back.
> “Why issss… a human… carrying a demon?”
Sae’s eyes widened slightly. Slowly, he turned his head, looking over his shoulder.
And there he was.
Rin.
His moss-green hair spilled around his face, longer now, his eyes faintly glowing under the night. He sat upright in the broken box, his body coiled with quiet strength. For the first time since falling into that endless sleep, Rin was awake—fully awake.
He rose without a word, stepping lightly out of the shattered cedar box. His bare feet touched the ground softly as he walked past Sae, past Kazumi.
The demons hissed in confusion.
What’ssss going on? the One Horn Swamp Demon thought, its eyes darting between Sae and Rin. Who ate thessse people? A swordsman… and a demon… traveling together? I don’t underssstand…
The Two Horns Swamp Demon’s body was already gone, fading into ash. But the two remaining demons crouched lower, ready to strike again.
Rin, however, didn’t look at them first. He walked slowly, steadily, toward Kazumi and the girl. His expression was calm, but his gaze lingered on them with something unreadable.
He reached out, touching Kazumi’s shoulder first, then brushing his fingers across the girl’s cheek.
Rin touched Kazumi and the girl gently, and in his mind, he thought of their cousins. That night, their cousins had come to play, insisting to stay just one more night. But they had been killed. By the same demon. Sae had never looked at their bodies, his cousin’s broken body—couldn’t. His world then had narrowed to one thing: Rin. Rin, still breathing, still warm. That had been all he could see. All he could save.
And for years after, the regret festered. He had buried their bodies beside his mother's grave.
Rin’s fingers trembled as he touched the humans, then dropped his hand away. His jaw tightened. His teal eyes flicked to the demons.
“Rin…” Sae whispered, his throat dry.
But then—Snuffy’s words returned to him.
> “It may only help to console him, but while Rin slept, I placed a suggestion deep into his heart. All humans are your family. Protect them. Guard humanity. Demons are your enemy. Never forgive demons for the harm they do.”
Sae’s chest tightened. He watched his brother’s back, shoulders trembling.
Rin’s face twisted, his lips pulling into a snarl. His eyes burned with rage, a demon’s fury but aimed not at people—at demons.
He turned toward the swamp, toward the One Horn Swamp Demon and the Three Horns Swamp Demon.
And for the first time, Rin showed his anger.
Rin sprang into action, launching a flurry of precise kicks at the three horns swamp demon, targeting its head with ruthless speed. The demon roared, staggering back as Rin’s attacks made it reel.
“Rin! Don’t follow it! Come back!” Sae shouted, panic lacing his voice.
Rin froze for a heartbeat, then turned, sprinting toward Sae. His movements were fluid and practiced, but before he could reach him, the two horns swamp demon burst from another patch of swamp, lunging at Rin with claws outstretched.
Instinctively, Rin leapt backward, performing a flawless backflip over the attacking demon. The demon’s claws tore into the swamp behind him, narrowly missing Rin. Landing gracefully, Rin continued running toward Sae without hesitation.
Sae’s mind flashed to the lessons and warnings from Snuffy and Lavinho:
> “Rin is a demon now, Sae. You must remember… he isn’t weak. He doesn’t need your protection.”
Sae clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. As if I care. Rin was still his little brother. No matter what, he had to protect him.
But then Sae’s gaze shifted to Kazumi and the unconscious girl. The thought tightened around his chest: Is it all right? Can I really leave this to Rin? If he can protect those two, then maybe I can focus on the fight…
Before he could answer, the swamp churned violently beneath him. Thick, black water exploded upward, and multiple hands erupted from the depths, wrapping around Sae’s legs and arms.
“ARGH!” Sae struggled, slashing at the swamp, but the muck clung like iron chains. The pull grew stronger, dragging him down mercilessly.
Rin skidded to a stop, eyes widening in alarm. He raised his hand instinctively, preparing to dive in—but Sae’s voice cut through the chaos:
“Rin! I’m going under! Protect them!”
Rin’s legs tensed, but he hesitated, understanding the weight of Sae’s words. Sae’s hand gripped the hilt of his katana tightly even as the swamp’s grip consumed him. Slowly, inexorably, Sae began to sink beneath the surface.
His face remained calm, even as panic licked at the edges of his mind. He could still smell the faint, sinister odor of the demons around him. I can’t let this stop me. Protect Rin…
The last thing Rin saw before Sae disappeared into the murky depths was his older brother’s calm expression, his unwavering resolve. Rin’s eyes burned with determination, fueled by the promise embedded in Snuffy’s words and Sae’s own example: to protect, to strike, and to never waver against the demons that had haunted their lives.
Sae’s descent was swift. The swamp’s hands tried to pull him down deeper, but he twisted his body, slicing at the muck with Water Breathing techniques, his strikes precise and desperate. Every slash was measured, cutting through the unnatural appendages that sought to claim him.
Above him, Rin’s form blurred as he positioned himself between Kazumi, the unconscious girl, and the approaching two horns swamp demons. The air was thick with the coppery scent of danger, and the ground trembled under the demons’ unnatural movements.
Sae’s mind focused solely on the immediate threat. I must survive… I must surface… I must end this.
And as he sank deeper, he could already sense the presence of the swamp demons coordinating, their movements strange and fluid, their intent deadly. But Sae had no fear—not yet. His mind, his body, his resolve, were all sharpened by the countless battles he had survived. This was just another test, another moment to prove that he could overcome what seemed impossible.
---
Sae sank deeper into the bog, his eyes sweeping over the murky, dark waters. Scattered across the surface and half-submerged in the muck were kimonos, gift boxes, sandals, and other remnants of lives torn apart. The faint, coppery scent of blood mixed with the earth, making his stomach twist—but he remained unnervingly calm.
I’m inside a bog… and these… are the clothes and belongings of the people the demon took? He killed all these innocent people.
A cold fire lit within him. I can’t forgive that. I’m going to kill this damn demon.
From somewhere beneath the water, the one horn swamp demon let out a low, eerie chuckle.
“Are you sssuffering, boy? There isss almost no air in this bog! Indeed… the darknesss of this bog sssurrounds you and weighss you down! Ha ha ha ha!!”
The three horns swamp demon surged forward, his bulk pressing through the muck, the weight of the swamp amplifying his unnatural movements.
“You can’t move like you do above ground! So take that!!! You plunged in without a second thought, you fool!”
Sae’s eyes narrowed. Where do you think I trained at? Don’t underestimate me, you dumb half bake excuses of demons.
He inhaled deeply, feeling the thick, heavy air pressing against his lungs. Mount Sagiri… the windless peaks, the thin air… I trained there. I know how to generate strength even in unstable conditions.
The two demons moved wildly, weaving through the bog in unpredictable bursts. Sae’s eyes tracked the ripples and disturbances in the water—tiny shifts that betrayed their positions. Is it possible to move like that in a bog? he thought. But it doesn’t matter. They’re dumb demons. I’ll just kill them when they close in.
He adjusted his stance, muscles coiling. There’s a form to use in unstable footing… a forceful twist of the upper and lower body to generate a strong spin. The mud and water clung to him, tugging at his clothes and making every movement heavier, but he remained steady, almost indifferent to the danger.
The one horn swamp demon lunged, claws slicing through the thick, stagnant water, while the three horns demon bore down from another angle. Sae’s mind locked onto the opening—the faint scent of the demons, their positioning, their overconfidence.
There’s its scent… the opening thread… total concentration…
He unleashed Water Breathing: Sixth Form, Whirlpool, spinning his body with the precision of a practiced swordsman even as the bog pulled at him from every angle. The motion became a massive, cutting arc, slicing through the water, mud, and the demons themselves.
The whirlpool of his strike dragged both the one horn and three horns swamp demons into its path. Flesh and sinew gave way, claws and arms severed, heads toppled, their bodies shredded and tumbled across the water. The remnants of their forms hit the bog with wet, heavy splashes.
The spin becomes a large, sharp blade… dragging in anything around it and cutting it up.
Sae’s lungs burned; the thick air barely reaching them. I better get going… even I’m almost out of air. Rin!
---
Meanwhile, Rin fought fiercely against the two horns swamp demon, his fists striking the demon’s stomach with brutal precision. The demon growled in pain, its hide stretching and tearing under the impact of each strike.
This boy is strong… the demon thought, frustration seeping into its monstrous mind. He doesn’t seem to have any supernatural abilities yet, but he is still strong! He must have received a great amount of blood! He moves so fast I can’t submerge into the bog… but I’m getting used to his simple attacks. Even if he kicks hard enough to take my head off or rupture my guts… I can immediately heal!
Rin’s foot slammed into the demon’s torso, sending a ripple of agony across its body. The demon staggered, its gurgling growl echoing through the misty bog.
Suddenly, Kazumi gasped in shock. “Ah!” His voice barely carried above the demon’s roar as a sharp claw grazed Rin’s forehead, leaving a scar and a trickle of blood.
Yes!! I’ll ventilate your face!! the demon thought with a manic thrill, preparing to strike again.
But before it could get close, Sae appeared like a shadow of fury, standing firmly in front of Rin. With a precise and powerful strike, both of the demon’s arms were severed in one swift motion. Sae’s voice rang out, shaking the swamp itself.
“Hands off my brother!”
The demon froze, looking at Sae with a mix of disbelief and rage. Its thoughts raced in panic. Did he… kill me? He killed two of me!
Behind Sae, Rin having his forehead still bleeding stood there letting Sae take over the control. For the first time, Sae’s raw anger—the kind that came from protecting someone he loved, unyielding and terrifying in its intensity.
Sae’s fury did not waver. He shouted again, his voice slicing through the humid swamp air.
“You guys stink like rotten oil! It’s a foul smell! How many people have you killed?!”
The two horns swamp demon hissed in defense, teeth bared, voice dripping with malicious pride.
“If you let women age, they get ugly and taste terrible! That’sss why we ate them!! You should thank usss!”
Sae’s eyes narrowed, burning with cold fire. His blade flashed in a precise, merciless arc, tearing through the demon’s mouth and shredding it apart. Blood and saliva mixed with the swamp water, hissing as it fell. The demon’s scream was cut short, replaced with raw, terrified gurgles.
Sae, still standing in front of Rin, kept his gaze fixed on the demon, his voice now low, menacing, and unrelenting.
“That’s enough. Tell me about Bunny Iglesias.”
The demon, now dismembered, scarred, and bloodied, froze. Its voice trembled, cracking under the weight of fear.
“I… I c-c-can’t…”
Sae’s eyes narrowed further. He could see the fear radiating from the demon, the way it cowered, realizing it was utterly powerless.
Sae finally lowered his blade slightly but did not release his death glare from the demon. The two horns swamp demon, broken and terrified, slumped into the water, realizing it was completely at Sae’s mercy.
---
The two horns swamp demon trembled violently, its once defiant sneer replaced by a twisted mask of terror. Sae’s blade hovered before it, gleaming faintly in the dim light of the swamp. But the demon’s fear wasn’t just of Sae — it was something far older, deeper.
In its mind, an image burned: a towering figure cloaked in darkness, eyes like twin pits of endless night. Bunny Iglesias. The Demon King.
The demon could feel Bunny’s hands around its neck even now, a phantom choking that made its throat constrict and its heart hammer with dread.
> You must not speak, Bunny’s voice echoed in its skull, cold and absolute. You must never tell anyone about me. If you do, I will know immediately. I’m always watching you.
The demon’s claws dug into its own skin as if trying to claw out the memory. It could still feel that suffocating grip, the suffocating aura that promised annihilation. Even in the swamp, even under Sae’s blade, it could feel Bunny’s gaze.
“I can’t tell you!” the two horns demon screamed, voice breaking into a shrill, animalistic wail. “I can’t tell you! I can’t tell you! I can’t tell you!”
Sae’s eyes narrowed. His breathing steadied, his blade unwavering. I smell it, he thought. Fear. Shaking, deep down in its bones. This half-baked demon is terrified — not of me, but of something else.
The demon’s body convulsed violently as it regenerated, fresh arms bursting from its torn shoulders. It raised its claws high, spittle flying from its snarling mouth as it screamed again, louder, more desperate:
“I CAN’T TELL YOUUUU!!!”
Then, in a blur of motion, the two horns demon lunged at Sae with everything it had left. But Sae was already moving, body flowing like water. He sidestepped effortlessly, his blade flashing once, a clean arc through the swamp air.
The demon’s head flew free from its body, spinning away before splashing into the dark water with a muted thud. Its body toppled after, twitching once before falling still.
Sae straightened, his blade dripping with water and blood. His eyes stayed cold. Again, he thought grimly. I’ve learned nothing.
Silence fell over the swamp. The mist curled low around Sae’s legs as he turned, scanning for Rin.
Then he saw him.
Rin was slumped against the wall of a collapsed shack at the swamp’s edge, his small body leaning limply against the wood. His forehead still bore the wound from earlier, but the bleeding had stopped. His chest rose and fell steadily — he was sleeping, recovering.
Sae’s heart clenched. Asleep to heal himself…? He sheathed his blade and knelt in front of his little brother, the anger and steel in his eyes melting into something softer, heavier.
“I’m sorry,” Sae whispered, voice barely audible. His hand hovered over Rin’s head before gently resting on it, fingers brushing the dark hair. “So sorry. Just give me a little more time…”
He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead briefly to Rin’s. “Because your nii-chan… is going to make you human again.”
Sae carefully placed Rin back inside the wooden box, ensuring his little brother was secure and comfortable. His hands lingered briefly on the box, a quiet exhale escaping his lips before he turned his attention to the other two. Kazumi sat slumped against the wall, his body trembling, shoulders hunched over as though the weight of grief might crush him entirely. Beside him, the unconscious girl rested against the same wall, her breathing slow and steady.
Sae approached with measured steps, his expression calm but resolute. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly, voice low and even, a soft contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded.
Kazumi lifted his face, and tears streaked his cheeks. His voice cracked with raw anger and sorrow as he spat, “…I’ve lost my betrothed… do you think I’m all right?”
Sae nodded slowly, understanding the depth of his pain. “You may lose again and again,” he said reluctantly, his voice steady, almost too calm for the gravity of the moment, “but you still have to keep living. No matter how beaten down you may be, you still have to walk forward.”
Kazumi’s hands shook, and in a sudden burst of emotion, he grabbed Sae’s haori tightly. His voice rose, desperation and anger mingling. “What do you know?! You’re just a kid!”
Sae’s dark eyes met Kazumi’s with unwavering coldness. Without a word, he pushed Kazumi’s hands gently but firmly away. The motion was enough to make Kazumi gasp, the heat of his grief clashing with the icy composure of the boy before him.
“I’m going now,” Sae said calmly, stepping closer to Kazumi, his eyes scanning the tears-streaked face of the boy with quiet intensity. “Here,” he continued, lowering a small bundle into Kazumi’s hands. “I hope you find… something of Satoko’s in here. To remember her by.”
Kazumi looked down at the bundle and saw a tangle of torn clothes and hairpins, mementos of the girls the demon had claimed. He choked back a sob, gripping the items as if holding onto them could somehow bring back the lost lives. Sae turned on his heel, his steps deliberate and unhurried as he walked away without another word.
“..!” Kazumi whispered, still crying, clutching the items. His thoughts churned in confusion and sorrow. Did this happen to you too? Did it? he wondered, the pain of loss mirrored faintly in the boy who had just left. Desperate, he called out, his voice cracking as he ran after Sae, “I’m sorry for saying such a mean thing! Please forgive me! I’m sorry!”
Sae didn’t turn around, but he raised a hand in a subtle wave of acknowledgment, the faintest nod of his head answering the apology without a single word. The gesture was small, almost imperceptible, but it carried a quiet weight that spoke volumes.
Kazumi looked down at the bundle and saw a torn demon’s haori, shredded and stained, but inside it were numerous hairpins, scattered like tiny relics of the lives the demon had claimed. One of them, delicate and slightly frayed, was unmistakably Satoko’s ribbon. His chest tightened, and he choked back a sob, gripping the haori as if holding onto it could somehow reclaim the lives that had been lost.
Sae turned on his heel, his steps deliberate and unhurried as he walked away, the weight of the day’s horrors and his responsibility pressing down on him. He offered no words, only the small, silent gesture of leaving the haori with Kazumi, allowing him to have a tangible connection to Satoko, a piece of her memory to cling to in the midst of grief.
Meanwhile, Sae’s steps carried him steadily forward, his jaw tightening, fists clenched at his sides. Anger coiled within him, controlled but potent. It isn’t just me, he thought. How many people has he killed? How many more have suffered at his hands?
His mind hardened at the name he spoke aloud under his breath, low but filled with venom. “Bunny Iglesias… I will never forgive you.”
At that moment, a familiar flapping sound broke his focus. A crow landed on his shoulder, wings ruffling against the weight of the wind. Its sharp, commanding voice cut through the air. “Next, go to Asakusa in Tokyo! Rumors tell of a demon hiding there! Kaaaaaw!”
Sae’s eyebrows furrowed, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Huh? I’m off on my next job already?” he muttered, glancing down at the crow perched firmly on his shoulder.
The crow cawed again, insistent and unwavering. “Yes! Go!”
Sae stopped, crossing his arms over his chest, lips pursed in disbelief. “Wait a second!” he protested, voice carrying just enough exasperation to betray the faint weariness beneath his composure.
“No waiting!” the crow repeated, sharp and commanding, flapping its wings as though to emphasize the urgency.
Sae exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. With a resigned shake of his head, he muttered under his breath, “Very well…” and began walking toward the next city, the weight of the wooden box on his back and the memory of the destroyed lives fueling the cold determination in his heart.
---
...
Two days later, Sae found himself in the chaotic streets of Asakusa. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, his body aching from nonstop travel and battle. Pulling Rin along, who was half-asleep against his side, Sae muttered under his breath, frustration lacing every word:
"This damn crow… why the hell is my mission in this kind of town?! It's night, but it's so bright out. The buildings… so tall. Too many people. My head… I’m getting dizzy."
Rin holding hands with Sae as Sae lead him, his long dark moss-green hair flopping into his eyes, drifting toward sleep. Sae shook him lightly and guided him through the throngs of people, only to stumble upon a narrow alley. There, two people were entwined, clearly too absorbed in each other to notice the world around them. Sae’s eyes widened. Without a second thought, he slammed his hand over Rin’s eyes.
"Rin! Don’t look!" he hissed, yanking him back.
The couple noticed him and yelled, calling him a kid and demanding he go away. Sae barely spared them a glance, muttering a string of curses under his breath. Without a second thought, he dragged Rin away from the alley, keeping his focus sharp.
Once they were a safe distance, the enticing smell of cooked udon reached Sae’s nose. He motioned to Rin.
"Let’s go over there, Rin."
A bald man stood behind a small cart, steam rising from a pot of simmering noodles. Sae approached and said simply, "Yamakake udon." The man nodded, and Sae set Rin down on the low curb beside him. Rin’s eyes fluttered sleepily as he leaned against his brother, and Sae took a slow sip of kelp tea, letting the warmth soothe his fatigued body.
Sae’s eyes roamed the streets, the chaotic brightness of Asakusa making him uneasy. "I’ve never been to a place like this… too many people… too many distractions…"
Then he stopped abruptly. His nostrils flared.
"No… that smell…"
The familiar, infuriating scent hit him with brutal clarity. Panic sharpened his senses. He stood, eyes narrowing, and moved swiftly through the crowd.
"That smell!!! Why here?! At the crowd… it’s the smell that was lingering at my house… Bunny… Iglesias!"
People around him barely registered his sudden bursts of movement, but Sae’s focus was unyielding. His hands shoved through the crowd with precision, clearing a path as he advanced. There, at the edge of the market square, stood a man with light purple hair, calm, human-like, utterly oblivious to the storm building behind him.
Sae’s blood boiled. He seized the man’s shoulder with a strength born of fury and frustration, spinning him around.
"It’s him! It’s him!!"
The light purple-haired man’s expression shifted from annoyance to mild surprise as Sae’s hand clamped firmly around the hilt of his katana. His grip tightened, ready to strike at any sudden movement, but the blade remained sheathed—until a child’s voice rang out
"Daddy! Who’s that?"
Sae froze, his rage colliding with shock. The demon before him, Bunny Iglesias, was masquerading as a human, surrounded by what appeared to be his family: a woman and the little girl. Sae’s mind raced.
"They’re human… completely human… they don’t know… they don’t understand… He’s a demon. He eats people!"
Bunny’s voice was smooth, almost casual
"Is there something I can do for you? You appear to be quite upset."
The woman beside him, feigning concern, added, "Oh dear… what’s wrong?"
Sae’s hands tightened on the hilt of his sword, but he couldn’t act—not with the innocent family so near. The little girl clung to Bunny, her warmth and life obvious to Sae’s senses.
"Do you know this boy?" the woman asked, tilting her head at Sae.
Bunny’s reply was immediate and composed
"No. Not at all. What a nuisance. I don’t know him at all. Perhaps he has mistaken me for someone else?"
Then, in the blink of an eye, Bunny’s true nature revealed itself. His hand shot out faster than any human could perceive, clawing a passing man. Sae saw it instantly, his heart sinking. The man’s neck convulsed unnaturally, throwing him off balance, while the man's wife said,
"Honey… what’s wrong?"
Before Sae could react fully, the man lunged at his wife, biting her shoulder. Rage, terror, and urgency surged through Sae. He sprinted forward, yelling
"Stop!!"
Every step was precise, calculated, his focus razor-sharp. Sae’s anger burned with every fiber of his being, and the crowded streets of Asakusa became a battlefield in miniature, his mission clear: protect the innocent and stop Bunny Iglesias before more blood could be spilled.
The passing man—now a demon—gnawed at his wife’s shoulder with a wet, slavering greed. Her scream cut through the market: “Kyaaaah! Agh!” People froze, then surged, a tide of horror and curiosity. Voices rose in a chaotic chorus: “What the—?!” “What’s going on?!” “Blood!”
Sae didn’t hesitate. He shrugged off his shawl in one swift motion and barreled through the crowd. The demon’s jaws snapped, but Sae slammed the cloth over its mouth, muffling the snarls. With a grim, practiced motion he wrenched the creature away from the woman, dragging it free of her while hands reached to pull the bleeding wife to safety.
“Ma’am, don’t worry about him—take care of yourself!” Sae barked, voice low, controlled. He felt the damp, hot press of the demon’s breath under the shawl and forced his body between it and the wounded woman. His mind raced, cataloguing the wound. It’ll be all right. I’ll handle it somehow. Her wound isn’t fatal—this man hasn’t killed anyone… yet.
From the edge of the crowd, the purple‑haired man—Bunny in a human skin—said coolly to the woman at his side, “Rei, this is dangerous. Let us move away.” He took the child’s hand and began to step back, his posture casual as a cat slipping from a room before the vase falls.
Sae watched them go, every breath coiled like a spring. No. No. I can’t let him go. The city’s lights reflected off the blade at his hip; his fingers tightened on the hilt but did not draw it. He kept the sword sheathed, grip hard enough to leave a white crescent on the leather.
“Bunny Iglesias!” Sae shouted, voice cutting across the market like a thrown stone. “Wherever you go… you won’t get away from me!”
Rei murmured, puzzled: “Tsuhikihiko, what’s wrong with that boy?” Her tone was small, the worry of someone separated from the truth.
Bunny halted, then turned slowly. For a moment there was only the clamor of the street and Sae’s steady breathing. Sae advanced a step, the shawl still draped over the subdued demon’s mouth, eyes burning.
“I’ll follow you to the depths of hell,” Sae called, every syllable a promise. “And your neck will feel the edge of my sword.”
Something changed in Bunny’s face as those words struck air. His expression darkened like sky before a storm. A shuttered memory flickered in his eyes—brief, fierce: a man standing over him long ago, sword in hand, a vow lodged at his throat. I will never… forgive you!
Bunny’s gaze dropped, snagging on the small, simple earring that Sae wore. For a heartbeat the market fell away; the past slammed into him—scenes of a man with the same hard mouth and the same cold promise. In his mind a single thought uncoiled, quiet and poisonous
Those earrings…
Then the police arrived, pushing back the crowds that had gathered around the chaotic scene. Shouts and alarms filled the air as officers forced their way through, shouting commands over the clamorous noise. "Move aside!" one officer barked. Another yelled, "You! What are you doing?!" A third voice rang out, "Are they drunk?! Break it up!" The crowd was in disarray, people scrambling to avoid the surging officers. "Step back! Step back! Move!!" The policemen’s voices grew louder, sharper, cutting through the tumult of the massed onlookers.
Finally, the officers reached Sae, who was still firmly holding down the demon. Sweat glistened on his brow, and his muscles strained with the effort, yet his focus remained unbroken. Sae shouted over the noise, desperation lacing his voice, "No! Handcuff him! Please! Please, stop! I'm the only one who can subdue him!" His plea was filled with urgency, his awareness of the danger acute. Every second counted, every wrong move could cost lives.
Then, from within the chaotic crowd, two mysterious figures emerged. Their sudden appearance seemed almost ethereal, as if they had materialized from the shadows themselves. The police officers, momentarily distracted by the demon’s contorted, wild expression, froze in shock. One of them blurted, "Agh! What the..?? Look at his face! He's lost his mind! Get him off this guy!"
"Yessir," came the automatic response from the other officers, moving to comply, though caution and fear were evident in their movements.
Sae, however, did not waver. His grip on the demon tightened, his voice rising even more fiercely as he shouted, "Stop! I don't want this person to kill anyone! Don't interfere!" His calm demeanor masked the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Every instinct screamed at him to maintain control; he could sense the threat not just to himself, but to everyone around.
Then, one of the mysterious figures stepped forward. She raised her arm deliberately, tracing a line through the air with her finger. As her fingertip moved, a thin line of blood appeared along it, trickling slowly yet unnervingly. Her eyes, cold and calculating, flickered with intent. She observed the scene with quiet precision, her inner thoughts reflecting in a single, taut line: Scent of… illusory blood, visual dream.
Sae’s senses, already heightened, picked up the faintest trace of something unusual. He thought to himself, What is that smell? It was different from the metallic tang of ordinary blood, heavier, more visceral, and strangely intoxicating. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear the thought, but the sense of unease only grew stronger.
The crowd, meanwhile, was reacting to something none of them could fully comprehend. "Whoa! What's this pattern?" someone gasped. Another cried out, "I can't see anything!" Confusion and fear rippled through the bystanders, their eyes darting back and forth, attempting to make sense of the inexplicable phenomenon unfolding before them.
Sae, though still focused on holding down the demon, lifted his gaze upwards and saw it: the blood demon art. It was a series of intricate, hauntingly beautiful patterns that seemed to hover in the air like a living tapestry. Each curve and line was vivid and intense, a visual manifestation of power that was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Sae’s mind raced as he tried to interpret what he was seeing. Is this some sort of attack? he wondered, the question hanging in the air with heavy uncertainty.
Then the two mysterious figures revealed themselves fully, stepping into the open. Sae’s expression remained calm, indifferent even, as he assessed them. He did not flinch, nor did he betray any hint of surprise.
The woman spoke first, her tone clipped yet carrying a weight that demanded attention. "You.." she began, her eyes locking onto Sae with an intensity that seemed to pierce through him.
The woman had black hair that was tied in a bun, her blue eyes cold and apathetic, reflecting nothing yet observing everything. Beside her, a man stood, his cyan hair and matching cyan eyes striking against the chaos around them. His long eyelashes framed his gaze, giving him an almost ethereal appearance that contrasted sharply with the violent scene.
The woman spoke again, her voice now steady and precise, carrying an unsettling calm. "..Still use the word 'person'… for demons. And you try to help them. So I shall help you."
Sae, though outwardly calm, felt a ripple of confusion pass through him. His brow furrowed faintly as he studied her carefully, his senses alert for any sign of deception or threat. "You… your scent…" he said quietly, a trace of recognition—or perhaps realization—in his voice.
Before he could finish, the woman cut him off, her tone firm and uncompromising. "Indeed. I… I am a demon… and also a doctor. And I would also see Iglesias obliterated."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Sae, still maintaining his hold on the demon, absorbed the information with measured composure. Though confusion and curiosity mingled with the tension of the moment, he did not lose focus. The woman’s declaration was both a threat and an alliance, a paradox that demanded careful consideration.
The air between them seemed to thrum with energy, the faint scent of blood, both real and illusory, weaving through the tension. Sae’s grip on the demon remained firm, every fiber of his being attuned to the unfolding scenario.
The mysterious figures, calm and imposing, did not advance further yet. Their presence alone reshaped the scene, a silent assertion of power that altered the dynamics of the conflict. Sae, still steady and composed, knew that this was only the beginning of an encounter whose consequences could ripple far beyond the immediate chaos.
---
Bunny’s daughter’s voice cut through the quiet of the morning, sweet and innocent. “Daddy… aren’t you coming?”
Bunny’s eyes, dark and distant, lingered on the thought of the chaos from earlier. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried the weight of something far heavier than exhaustion. “I’ve got to go to work. I have some meetings. I’m still disturbed by what we saw earlier.”
Rei, Bunny’s wife, stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Dear…” she began, concern lacing her tone.
Bunny cut her off abruptly, a cold decisiveness in his words. “It’s all right. I’ll just ask the police to keep watch.” He turned away, dismissing any further argument, his mind still anchored to the darkness he had witnessed.
Rei nodded, a trace of unease in her eyes, and together with their daughter, they went inside the Taisho-era car and drove off, leaving Bunny alone in the near-empty corner. The air smelled faintly of smoke and dust, mingling with the lingering tension of the city outside. Bunny walked through the dim, deserted space, his steps silent but purposeful, until someone collided with him.
“Oww… what’s your problem?!” a man slurred, clearly intoxicated.
“My apologies,” Bunny said, his voice even, almost rehearsed, as he tried to sidestep the man.
But the drunk man was insistent. He grabbed Bunny by the shoulder, swaying slightly as he tried to assert himself. “Hey, wait!”
Bunny stopped and turned slowly, his tone calm but razor-sharp. “Excuse me, but… I’m in a hurry.”
The drunk man sneered, taking a menacing step closer. “Hey, hey! Those’re fancy duds you’re wearin’! And I don’t like it! And with that pale face of yours… you look half-dead.”
Something snapped inside Bunny. In an instant, his hand shot out, connecting with the drunk man’s cheek with a resounding crack. The man’s head slammed against the wall with a sickening thud, blood bursting from his mouth and nose. He collapsed, trembling, barely conscious, a red stain spreading across the tiles behind him.
From the shadows, another figure emerged—tall, imposing, bald, with a presence that immediately commanded attention. “Hey! What’re you doin’ to my little brother?!” the man roared, his voice sharp and desperate.
Before Bunny could respond, a girl approached the scene, her voice shrill with panic. “He’s dead! Ya-chan’s not breathing!”
Her words froze mid-air as Bunny moved with impossible speed. In one fluid motion, he kicked the bald man with such force that he flew across the room. The sound of cracking bones echoed as blood sprayed through the air. The man vomited violently, a fountain of dark red misting the ground before he collapsed, motionless.
Bunny’s gaze turned to the girl, and the room seemed to darken around her. His face, pale yet radiating an unnatural vitality, leaned closer. “Does my complexion look poor to you? Is my face pale? Do I look sickly? Do I look like I’m dying? Does it seem like I don’t have long to live?”
The girl trembled violently, fear locking her limbs in place. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as she tried to retreat, but her body betrayed her, frozen by the sheer malevolence emanating from him.
Bunny’s voice grew lower, more resonant, dripping with cruel amusement. “Oh no, no, no… I am an entirely different creature.”
In an instant, Bunny extended a single finger, cold and deliberate, and pressed it against the girl’s forehead. Without warning, he drove it deep into her, piercing through the flesh, forcing his own blood into her veins. Her eyes widened in abject terror as the burning sensation of transformation began.
“Do you know what will happen if I give you a large amount of my blood?” Bunny asked, his voice a whisper now, but heavy with malice. The girl could not respond, could not comprehend the horror already coursing through her.
Bunny withdrew his finger slowly, deliberately, letting the crimson droplets drip like a morbid rain. “The human body cannot withstand the speed of transformation. Your cells will rupture.”
Her screams were immediate, piercing, agonizing, a high-pitched chorus of human suffering. Her skin twisted, stretching and tearing grotesquely. Her features contorted into something unrecognizable, a hideous parody of a human face. Muscles and bones warped as she convulsed violently, the room filled with the scent of burning flesh and iron tang of blood. Within moments, she collapsed, dead. Silence followed, except for the echo of her final cries, lingering in the air like a curse.
Bunny snapped his fingers, sharp and deliberate. From the shadows, two figures materialized, emerging like shadows from the corners of the room. Their eyes glimmered with loyalty and unnatural devotion. They both spoke in unison, voices void of emotion yet suffused with reverence. “We will do as you wish.”
Bunny’s gaze hardened, calculating and merciless. His presence alone seemed to warp the space around him, filling it with an oppressive aura of fear. “Bring me the head of the demon hunter with the earrings that look like Hanafuda cards. Got it?” His command cut through the air like a blade.
The two demons bowed their heads, acknowledgment immediate and absolute. “Understood,” they murmured, the words devoid of hesitation.
Bunny stood alone for a moment, the carnage around him a silent testament to his power. The blood on the floor, the twisted form of the girl, the two unmoving men—all of it was a scene of calculated brutality, yet he moved with the calm precision of someone entirely in control. His face, pale but alive with an unnatural vitality, betrayed none of the fatigue or hesitation one might expect after such violence.
The space around him seemed to shrink, the shadows bending subtly toward his presence. Every sound—the creak of the floor, the distant wail of the city, the drip of blood from the walls—was magnified, yet he remained unaffected, untouched by the terror he had sown.
His mind, sharp and focused, already raced through the implications of his command. The head of the demon hunter was not just a target; it was a symbol, a promise of chaos and retribution. The world around him had shifted subtly, the scales of power tilting toward his will alone.
And as he turned, stepping over the bodies of those who had dared challenge him, his presence alone radiated a promise of more cruelty to come. Every step was deliberate, measured, and horrifyingly calm, like the approach of a predator savoring the fear in the air.
Even in silence, Bunny’s aura spoke volumes. Death, transformation, and dominance flowed from him like a dark tide. The room itself seemed to hold its breath, as if the very walls were aware of the malevolent force he represented.
And with that, the demons behind him readied themselves, silent yet fully prepared to carry out his every command. The world outside, oblivious to the true horror unfolding within, continued as normal, but Bunny’s shadow loomed over everything, promising destruction, cruelty, and a darkness that no human could withstand.
Notes:
Bunny is finally here!!! To terror Sae :3
Author’s Note:
I might not be able to post for a while because I’m busy with my year-end exams. I really need to focus on studying since next year I’ll be choosing a stream—probably the science stream, maybe even something like sport science stream. Thanks for understanding!
Chapter 3: The demon king's curse
Summary:
Bunny Iglesias places a supernatural curse on all demons he creates. Those who have taken in his blood.
The key condition is: if a demon utters or says his last name “Iglesias” aloud, the curse activates.
When the curse triggers, the demon’s regeneration stops, and Bunny's own cells inside them take over, destroying them. In essence, it’s instantly fatal.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The bald man who sold Udon scowled, watching the strange boy sit quietly with a bamboo muzzle strapped across his mouth — and a perfectly good bowl of steaming Yamakake untouched in front of him. His patience snapped.
“Listen here, kid!” the vendor barked, veins popping at his temple. “This isn’t about the money! What I can’t accept is that you won’t eat my Udon!”
He stomped forward, grabbing a pair of chopsticks with the righteous fury of a man personally insulted. “First thing, you take that bamboo thing off! What even is that? A chopstick case?!”
Rin blinked at him, wide-eyed and expressionless. His head tilted slightly, the faintest hum in his throat — confusion or curiosity, it was hard to tell. The vendor leaned in closer, ready to "teach" him how to eat, when a low, cold voice froze him mid-step.
Sae stood behind him.
The older man didn’t say a word at first — just glared. The sharp glint in his pale eyes said enough. Then, without another glance, Sae sat beside Rin and picked up the other bowl, eating in calm, deliberate bites. The tension in the air was enough to silence the entire stall.
After finishing, Sae quietly placed coins on the counter, stood, and took Rin’s hand as they began to leave.
The bald vendor, still half-frightened but too proud to admit it, yelled after them, “As long as you get it, fine! Come again!”
Sae looked down at Rin as they walked. “Sorry to leave you alone, Rin.”
Rin’s response was small — he tugged gently at Sae’s haori sleeve. Sae followed his gaze and froze. Standing not far from them was a tall man with cyan hair and matching eyes, his lashes long and his posture perfectly refined.
Sae frowned, unimpressed. “Were you waiting for me? I could’ve followed your scent, but—”
“We’re under a concealment spell,” the man interrupted smoothly, his tone polite but faintly patronizing. “There’s no way you could have traced us. Besides…” — he gestured toward Rin — “isn’t she a demon? What’s more, she’s a hag.”
Sae blinked.
Then, very slowly, his brow twitched.
“Hag?” he repeated flatly in his head. Hag? Does he mean ugly? Who the hell is he talking about? There’s no woman here, idiot.
He turned to follow the cyan-haired man’s gaze — and realized it was fixed on Rin.
Sae’s composure cracked.
“What the hell did you just say?” he shot back sharply, voice laced with disbelief. “He’s not ugly! Rin’s a boy, you lukewarm halfwit! He was known as the town beauty — and you call him a hag?!”
Hiori — for that was the cyan-haired man’s name — blinked at the sudden outburst, then sighed quietly. “Lady Nijiro is waiting. Let us proceed,” he said, his tone cool, unbothered, and impeccably polite.
But Sae didn’t drop it.
“Oh, so now you’re running away? Coward! Calling someone a hag and walking off? What, afraid to look properly? Maybe find a lantern next time before you start judging people, you blind lukewarm—”
Before Sae could finish, they stepped past a talisman-covered doorway that shimmered faintly — a hidden passage of some kind. Sae’s argument cut off when his eyes landed on the black-haired woman seated within.
Nanase sat gracefully in a chair, her calm presence filling the room like still water. Beside her lay the injured woman from earlier — the one bitten by her husband. Her face was pale but peaceful.
“Welcome back,” Nanase said softly, her voice warm but composed.
Sae’s temper simmered down just enough for him to speak, though his tone was still edged. “Are they all right?”
Nanase nodded. “This woman will recover. But her husband… it’s unfortunate, but he must be confined to an underground cell.”
“Isn’t it hard,” Sae said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “treating wounds when you’ve got to fight the urge to drool at the smell of flesh?”
Before he could blink, Hiori’s fist slammed into his stomach. “How dare you imply such a thing in Lady Nijiro’s presence!” he hissed, still perfectly polite despite his fury.
Nanase raised a gentle hand. “Yo, enough. Why must you always be so violent?”
Sae straightened, unbothered, dusting off his haori. “I didn’t say she was drooling. Just asking a question,” he said coldly.
Nanase only smiled faintly, her tone serene as she shifted the subject. “I did not tell you my name. I am Nijiro — but please, call me Nanase. And this boy is Yo, though you may call him Hiori. Please, try to get along.”
“Sure,” Sae muttered, glancing at Hiori, who looked ready to throw another punch.
“It isn’t hard,” Nanase continued, her voice soft but resolute. “It’s easier for us than for normal demons. I have… altered my body. I removed Iglesias’s curse.”
Sae blinked. “Altered your body?”
Nanase nodded. “I no longer need to feed on humans to survive. It’s enough to drink just a little blood.”
“Blood?” Sae echoed, tone sharp with disbelief.
They walked together through a narrow corridor, Rin rolling lazily along the floor behind them. Nanase continued, calm as ever. “We buy blood from those who need money — claiming it’s for transfusions. We never take more than they can afford to lose.”
Sae thought, So that’s why they don’t smell like demons… though they still rely on human blood. Maybe Rin could—
Nanase’s next words pulled him back. “Hiori needs even less than I do. I made him a demon myself.”
“You did?” Sae said bluntly. “But how?”
“Yes,” Nanase said. “They say Iglesias is the only one who can create demons — and that’s true. In over two hundred years, Hiori is the only one I could turn.”
Sae raised a brow. “Over two hundred years, and he’s your only success? How old are you, Nanase?”
“Don’t ask Lady Nijiro such a question, you insolent fool!” Hiori shouted, throwing a punch that Sae sidestepped elegantly.
“Yo!” Nanase’s voice snapped sharp for once. “If you hit him again, I won’t forgive you!”
Hiori immediately bowed his head. “My apologies, Lady Nijiro.” Even her anger is radiant, he thought dreamily.
Nanase exhaled softly. “One thing I don’t want you to misunderstand,” she said. “I’m not trying to increase the number of demons. I only help those who are terminally ill — people who wish to live just a little longer. But I always ask them… if living longer means becoming a demon, will they still choose it?”
Sae’s sharp gaze softened. She smells… pure. Honest. She’s not lying.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low.
“Nanase,” he said. “Once people become demons… is there a way to make them human again?”
---
In the shadowed forest far from the city streets, two figures crept across the uneven ground — the demons Bunny had sent to hunt. The boy among them crouched low, his palms pressed to the earth. Upon each hand, a single glaring eye opened wide, the irises shifting and gleaming like compasses. He whispered, voice thin and eerie,
“I can see… I can see… footprints.”
A faint pulse shimmered from his hands, and glowing arrows began etching themselves across the dirt, twisting and darting like serpents, pointing ahead. “That’s them. They went around there… three of them, carrying a large box.”
The girl beside him — a small demon with an unnervingly playful grin — tossed a temari ball up and down with effortless grace. Her laughter rang soft and high, like a child’s but far crueler.
“Can you see?” she teased, spinning on her heel as the ball rebounded from a nearby tree with a crack.
“I can see everything,” the arrow-eyed boy replied, licking his lips. “They can’t hide from me.”
The girl’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with madness. “How shall we kill them? Tee hee hee hee! Power burns inside me… I just drank the blood of that big shot. I can feel it coursing through me!”
The boy smirked. “How will we kill them? Brutally, of course. The blood will guide us.”
Their laughter mingled — one soft and lilting, one hoarse and jagged — as they followed the glowing arrows deeper into the night.
---
Back in the concealed house, peace reigned for the moment. Rin lay sprawled comfortably on the tatami, his long dark green hair fanning out behind him, swinging his legs lazily in the air as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
Nanase sat nearby, quiet and thoughtful. Her black hair framed her delicate features as her hands folded on her lap. “A way to turn demons back into humans…” she murmured hesitantly. “It does exist.”
Sae’s head snapped toward her instantly. “Tell me!”
He took a step closer — too fast, too eager — and in an instant, Hiori stepped between them, his expression polite but his movement sharp. With effortless grace, he seized Sae’s arm and tossed him backward.
“Yo…” Nanase sighed, her tone both exasperated and fond.
“I didn’t hit him, Lady Nijiro,” Hiori said, smiling sweetly as Sae caught himself mid-fall. “I merely threw him. There’s a difference.”
“Same difference,” Sae muttered darkly, brushing off his haori as though nothing had happened.
Nanase only shook her head, the faintest smile tugging at her lips before her tone softened again. A faint, dark aura rose around her, shadowing her gentle features. “Every injury, every illness… has a medicine or treatment. However, at present—” she paused, her expression sad “—making a demon human again is impossible.”
Sae’s jaw tightened, fists curling against his sides.
“But,” Nanase continued, her calm voice cutting through his frustration, “we want to establish a treatment. To do so, we need to study many kinds of demon blood.”
She looked straight at him. “I want to ask two things of you, Sae. First, I wish to examine your brother’s blood. And second, I need you to gather a sample from a demon with a high concentration of Iglesias’s blood.”
Rin, still rolling lazily on the floor, turned his gaze toward them — his expression blank but his eyes full of quiet curiosity, his long hair pooling around him like silk threads.
Nanase’s tone softened again. “Right now, Rin is in an extremely rare and special condition. You said he slept for two years, correct? His body must have changed during that time. Normally, if a demon cannot ingest human flesh or meat for such a long period, it grows violent — uncontrollable.”
Hiori, meanwhile, wasn’t listening at all. His thoughts drifted hazily: Lady Nijiro is beautiful again today. I bet she’ll be beautiful tomorrow too.
“But Rin,” Nanase went on, ignoring Hiori’s lovestruck stare, “does not show those symptoms. He’s calm, gentle… and that is unheard of. This miracle may be the key to everything.”
Sae looked down at Rin, something flickering in his eyes — relief, maybe hope. Slowly, he knelt and wrapped his arms around the boy. Rin blinked but didn’t resist, resting his head against Sae’s chest with quiet trust.
Nanase watched the scene, her expression softening, admiration glimmering in her eyes. “The other task, however,” she said quietly, “will be difficult. A demon with a high concentration of Iglesias’s blood means one close to his strength. It will not be easy to steal blood from such a being.”
Her gaze rose to meet Sae’s. “But will you still try?”
Sae’s voice was steady, sharp with resolve. “Studying blood from demons to make a medicine — if that’s the only way, I’ll do it. If it helps Rin…” He paused, his grip on Rin tightening slightly. “Then I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Nanase nodded. “It will help others as well,” she said softly.
Sae didn’t realize he was staring — not at Rin now, but at her. The way the lamplight caught in her dark hair, the calm steadiness of her voice. Something about her presence was… grounding.
Hiori noticed immediately. His eye twitched. His polite smile strained. How dare he look at Lady Nijiro like that!
Before he could say a word, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air.
Nanase’s head turned just as the tatami floor exploded — a temari ball smashed through the wall, tearing through furniture and wood like paper.
The shockwave rattled the entire house.
Sae reacted instantly. Without thinking, he twisted around, pulling Rin into his arms and shielding him beneath his body as debris rained down. The wall behind them shattered under the next impact.
Hiori spun around, his cyan eyes narrowing. “Lady Nijiro!” he shouted, throwing himself forward, placing his body between her and the falling rubble.
The floorboards cracked under the force. Dust filled the air.
Outside, the eerie laughter of the temari demon echoed faintly through the wind.
“Heeheehee! There you are… I found you!”
Nanase’s eyes narrowed, her calm mask slipping into grim determination. Sae slowly lifted his head, eyes burning with fury. Rin clutched his sleeve tightly, trembling.
The peace inside the hidden house was gone.
The hunt had begun.
The Temari demon girl laughed, the sound sharp and echoing through the ruined street.
“Kya ha ha!” she cackled, spinning her Temari ball in one hand as the moonlight glinted across its lacquered surface. Her voice rang high and shrill, full of mockery and delight.
“Just like you said, Aku! A building appeared where there was nothing before!”
The scene before her was chaos — the once-standing house was now half destroyed, one side still upright while the rest lay in splintered ruin. Walls crumbled, dust choked the air, and a faint trail of smoke curled upward from the wreckage. The Temari ball rolled across the broken floorboards, leaving circular indents wherever it struck.
In the debris, a single paper talisman fluttered down from above — its eye, drawn in ink, blinked weakly before dimming.
Aku, the arrow demon, crouched near the rubble, his long black hair sweeping the ground as he placed both palms against the dirt. On each of his hands were eyes. The irises glowing faintly like guiding stars. The eyes twitched, darting in all directions as if alive.
“Seems like they’ve learned to use the Blood Demon Art well,” Aku murmured, voice low and even. His tone was thoughtful, almost bored, but there was curiosity beneath it. “And is the demon slayer with them? What does this mean?”
He straightened slightly, looking toward his companion. “Still, Yami… the way you do things is childish, impetuous — but most of all…” His thin mouth curled with disdain. “…messy.”
Then he clicked his tongue in annoyance and brushed at his sleeve. “My kimono got all dusty. Tch.”
Yami smirked, the corners of her crimson lips curling upward. Her golden eyes gleamed with amusement. “Hush,” she said playfully. “Thanks to my Temari ball, we found them right away. Great! More time to play. And your kimono isn’t dirty. You’re too fussy.”
Her tone was teasing, but she didn’t look away from the wreckage, from the figures that had survived her attack.
Sae stood among the splintered remains, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana. His breathing was calm, but his eyes burned cold beneath the moonlight. Behind him, Rin stood motionless, his expression blank, his long dark green hair brushing his shoulders. Dust coated his pale skin.
Sae’s jaw tensed as he looked at the two demons before him. His mind calculated their movements, their auras, their scent. His grip on the sword tightened.
Two demons… and both are strong. The girl’s aura is violent. The other one— steady, sharp.
He muttered under his breath, irritation flickering across his face. “A Temari ball… she can smash up a house just by throwing a damn ball?”
Yami laughed again, her voice echoing.
“Kya hah hah! Found you!”
She began tossing the Temari from hand to hand, the ball spinning at impossible speed as her claws tapped its surface with precision. Each flick of her wrist sent a shockwave through the air, the faint hum of energy vibrating across the ground.
Hiori stood nearby, positioned protectively in front of Nanase. His expression, usually calm and kind, hardened slightly as his eyes followed the Temari’s motion. That woman, Hiori thought, is she one of Iglesias’s minions?
Yami’s grin widened. “Let’s see how fast you move, little ones~”
Then she threw.
Sae didn’t answer — his body already moving.
The Temari ball shot forward at a speed that tore the air apart. He shifted his stance, shielding Rin with his arm as the projectile whistled past — missing him by mere inches but smashing into the wall behind, splintering it into flying shards.
Then another followed — faster, deadlier.
Sae gritted his teeth. Protecting Rin made it harder to dodge. The ball curved midair, unnaturally — moving like it had a will of its own. He pivoted, narrowly avoiding it again.
The Temari shot forward like lightning, the air snapping from its speed. Sae reacted instantly, shifting his body to shield Rin. The ball cut through the wind with a shrill whistle, missing them by an inch as Sae twisted away. His movement was sharp but constrained — every motion calculated so Rin wouldn’t be touched.
But Yami didn’t stop. She flicked her wrist again. The Temari curved midair — unnaturally — bending around Sae’s dodge and veering toward the others. But this time, the ball ricocheted upward and struck Hiori’s head clean off before anyone could react.
It struck Hiori’s neck with a sickening crack.
A blur of silver and red — and then silence. His head rolled, landing on the ground with a dull thud. His body remained upright for a moment before collapsing beside Nanase, who froze in shock.
Sae’s gaze snapped toward them. For a brief instant, his breath caught — but then his expression hardened, cold and controlled.
Nanase immediately dropped to her knees beside Hiori’s fallen body, her hands trembling as she reached toward him. “Hiori…!” Her voice cracked through her usually steady tone.
Sae turned sharply toward Rin. His voice came out firm, commanding.
“Rin! Get the woman asleep back there — take her outside, somewhere safe!”
Rin’s eyes widened slightly. He nodded once, quietly, and turned. His steps were soundless as he lifted the unconscious woman from the bed.
Sae exhaled slowly, the air leaving his lungs in a controlled rhythm. He could still hear Yami’s laughter, shrill and wild.
“Ha ha ha! I killed one!” she exclaimed gleefully, twirling another Temari in her hands. Her head tilted as her eyes caught Sae’s movement — the way he was standing protectively before Rin. “Hm?”
Her amusement faltered briefly. “You’re protecting… a demon?”
Sae’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. He didn’t answer, but his thoughts burned. She smells different from the others so far… stronger. It’s an intense smell. It’s settling heavy and deep in my lungs.
Yami’s grin returned, wider than before. She lifted both Temari balls in her hands and began to play with them like toys, spinning them on her fingertips.
“So the demon slayer with the earrings… is you.”
Sae’s expression remained unreadable. She’s after me?
He glanced briefly over his shoulder at Nanase, who was now kneeling with Hiori’s head resting on her lap.
“Nanase! Fall back and hide!” he barked.
Nanase shook her head, clutching Hiori tightly as she looked up at him. Her tone was gentle but firm. “Sae… don’t worry about us. Just fight. We’ll be fine even if you don’t protect us. We are demons after all.”
Her words were steady, yet sorrow shadowed her eyes.
Yami’s laughter rang again, spinning her Temari with renewed excitement. “Let’s see if you can still talk when your head rolls~!”
She threw.
The Temari streaked through the air, faster than before. Sae’s instincts screamed — he could feel the pressure, the trajectory — but something was off. The ball followed him. Every time he moved, it curved, like it had eyes of its own.
Even if I dodge, the ball follows me.
He inhaled deeply.
Total concentration — Water Breathing.
His muscles tensed, his blade sliding upward in one smooth motion.
Among the ten forms, the fastest thrusting technique is…
“Seventh Form — Drop Ripple Thrust: Curve!”
He thrust the blade forward in a precise arc, slashing through the air. The Temari struck the sword head-on — sparks erupted, the sound sharp like glass shattering. Instead of ricocheting, the ball stuck to the blade, trembling violently at the impact.
Yami’s eyes widened slightly.
He struck in an arc from an angle to lessen the impact. Hmph. Clever human.
But before Sae could counterattack, the Temari shuddered — and then moved again.
The ball spun faster, dragging the blade forward. The other Temari balls rose into the air, circling him like spinning moons, their motion erratic and unnerving.
Sae’s eyes darted to the side — the one still impaled on his katana began pulling itself loose, spinning harder as if guided by an unseen force.
How does this ball move? he thought, his grip tightening on the sword. It was moving unnaturally when it hit Hiori too. It isn’t spinning a special way, but… this…
His instincts screamed danger.
He twisted just in time — the freed Temari zipped past his face, slicing the air where his head had been. The sound of it tearing through space was deafening.
Behind Yami, Aku watched in silence, his hands still pressed to the ground. The eyes across his arms blinked, glowing faintly with each shift of direction. Invisible trails of arrows flickered in the air, pointing toward Sae from every angle.
The Temari balls obeyed the arrows, bending their flight with impossible precision.
Yami’s voice was full of laughter again. “Ha ha ha! My Temari will chase you forever! No matter where you run — they’ll always come back!”
The air rippled again as another Temari shot toward him, grazing his sleeve and slicing through the fabric. Blood ran down his arm in a thin line.
He didn’t flinch.
Yami twirled with delight, throwing again. “Come on! Don’t die too soon, slayer!”
Sae exhaled, his mind steadying, his voice low and calm despite the chaos. “You talk too damn much.”
He lunged forward, blade glinting as it caught the moonlight. The movement was fluid — graceful — the style of a swordsman honed through pain and purpose. He closed the gap between them in a blink.
Yami’s eyes lit up. “Oh? A fast one~”
The Temari in her left hand swung upward, blocking his strike with an explosive clash. The shockwave cracked the ground beneath them, dust billowing outward. The second Temari flew in from behind him, curving toward his spine.
Sae twisted his body mid-swing, letting the ball pass by inches from his ribs. The air pressure tore a strand of hair from his temple, but he didn’t falter.
He landed lightly, sliding across the dirt as the Temari smashed into a broken wall behind him.
For a heartbeat, everything was still.
Then Yami began to laugh again, her grin feral. “Kya ha ha! You’re fun! Let’s keep playing, earring boy!”
Sae wiped blood from his arm with the back of his hand, his expression cold. His eyes met hers, sharp and unflinching.
“Keep laughing,” he muttered. “It won’t last long.”
---
Nanase’s hands never stopped moving. Even as the world around them tore itself to pieces, she kept tending to Hiori, murmuring in a low, steady rhythm that was part chant, part check of vitals. The boy’s head, severed and shocking just moments before, lay in her lap like a heavy, bloody thing. Slowly, almost painfully, the flesh knit, the jaw stuttered, and a thin film of skin crawled over the wound like a pale tide. Hiori’s lips twitched. His eyes, however, remained blank sockets for a terrible beat; his left eye had not yet formed. The regeneration was imperfect and grotesque and miraculous all at once.
“Lady Nijiro!” Hiori croaked, his voice thin and strained as he pushed himself into a sitting position with Nanase’s help. His breath came in ragged pulls. “I… told you, didn’t I? From the start — don’t get involved with the demon slayer. My concealment spell isn’t flawless! I can hide a building, I can muddle the scent of a place, but I cannot erase existence. The more people, the more traces… and that draws Iglesias. Draws him in.”
Sae’s brain burned with a dozen small questions at once, everything rattling together like broken machinery. He had not smelled anything before Yami’s attack; the scent had struck him only at the instant of impact. Was Hiori’s Blood Demon Art shielding them? Sae wondered. Or was the smell simply buried beneath the talisman’s veil until someone tore it? The thought was a thin, dangerous needle in his chest.
Hiori’s voice turned bitter, edged with an animal’s rage. “I hate it, lady Nijiro. I hate when anyone interferes with our time. I’ll never forgive those who tear that away from me.”
Yami laughed — a bright, jagged sound that made the splinters on the ground tremble. She had stripped the marred kimono from herself and now wore a sarashi around her torso, six arms flexing into the moonlight. In each hand a Temari ball spun like a dark planet. Her grin was a manic moon. “Kya hah hah! This is perfect! So much fun! Consider it an honor that I, one of the Twelve Kizuki, will take your life.”
“Sae,” Nanase breathed, and the word was both warning and answer to Sae’s unasked thought.
“Twelve Kizuki?” Sae said aloud, and the name landed in his ears like a hammer. Then Nanase answered for him, voice steady despite the blood smeared on her palms. “She reports directly to Iglesias.”
If her face held any more sorrow, Sae could have sharpened it into a blade. Instead his jaw locked. He straightened, feeling the weight of the fight press against his ribs. Around them the ruin crackled like a cage matched to their breath.
Yami finished with a flourish and revealed the six balls in all her hands, each one alive with hunger. “Let’s keep playing until dawn!” she taunted, voice made rough with bloodlust. “Until your life ends!”
She launched the six Temari in one gorgeous, cruel arc. The balls ricocheted and spun through the ruined room like knives, bouncing off the broken rafters, folding their trajectories around pillars and posts and every shard of splintered wood. Sparks flew where they clipped metal. Dust rose in a choking curtain.
Hiori moved first, muscle memory honed by a thousand tiny gestures more human than not. He threw himself over Nanase to shield her with his body. The balls struck him again and again. One sheared across his cheek and neck. Another took the side of his skull. Each impact lashed out holy and hot; the sound of them hitting flesh and bone was a hammering that seemed to slow Sae’s thoughts.
Nanase’s mind raced — but she was careful. “If I cast a full barrier here,” she thought aloud with a thin smile that did not reach her eyes, “it will swallow Sae, too. Yo needs time to calibrate an attack.” Her voice held the logic of a doctor balancing doses: harm with purpose or harm without hope.
Sae sliced. He moved like a man who had already died a dozen small deaths and refused to let them count. The first three Temari met his blade and split with sizzling precision — not a clean, effortless sweep, but teeth and effort, the sort of cuts that took steel and nerves, and for a second the balls lost momentum: they shuddered, spun oddly, and fell to different arcs.
His curse came out like breath. “Tch — when I cut them they lose force, but they keep coming. There are two distinct scents: two demons. I can place them by smell, I can tell their rough position, but I don’t have time to cover everything.”
He felt it in the edges of his mind: the path of each ball, the whisper of their direction, as if the world had been turned into a net and his blade into a pair of sharp hands trying to tear a hole.
Another Temari slammed at him. His katana took it and snagged, the ball embedding on the blade again, vibrating as if alive, as if contained by the cold edge of his steel yet still tugging toward its mistress. It did not hit anything, yet its path changed, Sae thought. There’s an unseen hand, guiding it.
The balls continued their dance like an exultant storm. Hiori took most of them, bracing, taking blow after blow until his body stuttered with pain. Sae had to admit it — the boy’s endurance was obscene. Hiori’s kind eyes remained gentle even as the blood varnished his hair.
Nanase slid to the ground as another Temari grazed her temple, a sickening, hot shock. The sound was wet and wrong as one side of her face was nicked; for a beat Sae thought she’d been split cleanly open. She did not scream. The blood pooled and gleamed; her hands were white with effort.
“We will heal,” she forced out through the haze; words to anchor everyone. “So — don’t mind us!”
Hiori looked at Sae. His voice suddenly tightened into a bark of strategy. “Hey, demon slayer!” he shouted — and the sentence came out as advice, because even in pain he was practical. “Read the arrows! Watch them! If you follow the arrows you’ll know the ball’s path. Avoid where the arrows point, then — then cut the woman’s head off! You can do that, right? Here — take my sight!”
He hurled the paper talisman at Sae with all the force he could muster. The talisman, ink eye unblinking, struck Sae square on the forehead and stuck there for a breath — the adhesive of ritual strong as truth. Sae tasted iron with the suddenness; the talisman’s faint scent melted into the air around him like oil on stone.
Suddenly Sae could see.
The world had the thin overlay of the other demon’s will: arrows drawn across the air, glowing faintly, each one an invisible current pushing the Temari balls along, guiding them with minute adjustments like a puppeteer pulling strings. The arrows were Aku’s hand, his voice through ink and motion.
“The tree,” Sae said bluntly, teeth grinding. “Up in the three.” He pointed with his katana blade at a tree.
Aku, perched with a loose grace on a broken branch outside the hole in the wall, felt the impact of the kick like a sudden wind. Rin, small and silent, had not been told to move — he had simply moved. He saw the demon’s position and leapt. His long dark hair streamed like a banner behind him. He landed on the trunk with feline speed and, without hesitation, his tiny foot slammed into Aku’s face with a dull, resounding crack.
Aku’s hands blinked as the arrows flickered — the demonic eyes on his palms spasmed with pain. He staggered but did not fall. The boy’s kick was a bruise of fury; it made the arrow-lines stutter in the air for the instant Sae needed.
Back inside, Yami laughed and wove more Temari as if she were stitching the air. Her six arms made them spin and fold in ways that would have been beautiful if not for the malice. Sae centered his breathing like a blade in water. Water Breathing: Third Form — Flowing Dance.
He moved through the chaos with the grace of a river re-routing itself around rocks. His blade sang, a clean arc that met six balls in a single percussive sweep; each Temari exploded the air. The sound lodged in Sae’s chest like a bell.
His motion slid into motion; he launched toward Yami like a coiled thing, energy whipping from him in bared determination. The floor shook under his feet. He struck hard and fast — a concentrated strike meant not to slay, but to wound and to seize a trophy. The balls were not the only moving parts anymore; the arrows above the room now cast their shadows like knives across Sae’s chest. He felt their pull and pushed through, the talisman’s vision guiding him.
“Nanase,” he called between breaths, steady as a metronome and cold as a blade. “Are these two close to Iglesias?”
Her breaths were quick, but her voice was clear, because her mind had always been steadier than her body. She tasted pain and mapped it. “I believe so,” she said. Her words were careful, like a doctor confirming a grave prognosis. She pressed a hand against Hiori’s neck; already the youngster’s blood was congealing like quickening frost. “Their blood — the scent — carries Iglesias’s mark. Close. Closer than I’d hoped for.”
Sae said nothing, he only looked at her once — an indifferent, flat-slit assessment — and then said the only thing that mattered. “Then I’m going to get you some of their blood.”
There was no grand flourish in his words, no heroic cadence. It was a promise, a plan, a cold fact announced like a wound. The air around them buzzed with the unsettled hum of a hive, with the broken, half-sparked life of demons still hungry and dangerous. The talisman throbbed, the arrows snapped like brittle thread, the Temari threatened to rise again. But as the moonlined ruin shuddered under the weight of that threat, Sae’s eyes had become little knives themselves — precise, unyielding.
He did not speak of salvation. He did not speak of vengeance. He only remembered his brother, small and silent and warm against the world, and the faces of the cousins he could not bear to see again. He thought of Nanase’s voice promising research, Hiori’s broken loyalty, and the name that tasted like rot on the back of his tongue: Iglesias.
He stepped forward.
---
The night air hung heavy with the scent of ash and iron. What remained of the house smoldered quietly, the ruins illuminated only by the pale gleam of the moon filtering through drifting dust. Sae stood with his hand on the hilt of his katana, his gaze sharp, calculating. His breathing was steady, but beneath that composure burned something fierce — a tension that only grew with every second the demons remained standing.
Hiori’s voice, though strained from regeneration, cut through the silence. His head was still only half restored — hair matted with blood, skin pulling back over muscle as his eyes hadn’t yet fully formed — but even in that grotesque state, he forced out a warning.
“Be careful! Don’t let your guard down even a little! If they really are in the Twelve Kizuki… at the very least, they’re stronger than any demons you’ve faced before!”
Sae gave a brief, curt nod — his answer unspoken but clear. His grip tightened on the katana’s handle as he dashed forward, the ground cracking beneath his step. Every movement of his was precise, driven by instinct honed through countless battles.
Behind him, Hiori turned toward Nanase, his tone soft but urgent. “Lady Nijiro! We could use this diversion to flee—”
Nanase’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her lips parted, horrified that Hiori would suggest abandoning someone. But before she could protest, Hiori smiled faintly — even without his eyes fully formed, there was kindness in his expression. “Just joking,” he said softly, though his voice trembled. “I’d never leave anyone behind.”
A loud crash interrupted them. Rin’s frame came flying from the treeline — thrown by the arrow demon, Aku — tumbling through the air. In the next instant, Sae’s head snapped in his direction, instincts taking over.
Without a thought, Sae sprinted across the clearing. His katana clattered briefly in its sheath as he reached Rin in time, his arm hooking around the boy’s waist before Rin could even hit the ground. He landed hard, boots sliding through the dirt, but his hold on Rin was firm — protective.
From above, Yami — the demon with six arms — let out a manic, shrill laugh that echoed through the clearing. “Kya ha ha ha ha! What fun this is!” she cried, her voice dripping with insanity. The six temari balls she wielded pulsed with energy, the air cracking around them as they spun in her hands. “Let’s keep playing until dawn! Until your life ends!”
Sae’s jaw tightened. This demon’s laugh is disgusting, he thought coldly. And her regeneration… faster than any I’ve seen since Final Selection.
He barely finished the thought before Yami hurled a temari straight at them. Sae’s reflexes were instant — he twisted his body, clutching Rin close against his chest as he sidestepped. The ball tore past them, shattering a tree behind them into splinters.
“Now die!” Yami sang as more balls flew.
A blur moved from the ruins — Hiori, his voice commanding. “Demon hunter! You take out the arrow one! We’ll handle the ball demon with your brother!”
Sae met his half-regenerated gaze and gave a single nod. He released Rin carefully, setting him on his feet. “Be sure not to overdo it, Rin,” he said lowly, his voice quieter now but firm. Rin’s wide teal eyes lifted to him, shimmering.
But Rin’s gaze shifted — for just a heartbeat — to Tamayo, who still lay bleeding, her eyes carved cruelly by Yami’s earlier strike. The sight burned into his memory; it reminded him too much of his mother, her face pale and wounded, her eyes filled with that same quiet pain.
Sae turned sharply, breaking into a sprint toward the arrow demon. Rin darted in the opposite direction — straight toward Yami.
---
The forest’s breath grew still. Dust rose with every step Sae took, his expression unreadable, save for the faint flicker of wrath in his eyes.
I need his blood, Sae reminded himself as he approached Aku. To make the medicine… to finish this fight. I’ll fight any demon if it means saving them.
The arrow demon waited for him among the branches — slender, almost graceful, his pale face calm and expressionless except for the twitching eye embedded in his palm. He tilted his head slightly as Sae approached.
“Such a filthy little hunter,” Aku murmured disdainfully. “You reek of steel and desperation. Stay away from me.”
Sae lunged, blade slicing upward with deadly speed. I can see it, he thought — the opening thread glimmering faintly before his eyes. Now—
But just as he swung, Aku’s hand turned, revealing the strange eye with an arrow-shaped iris. The eyelid shut in a blink — and the opening thread snapped from Sae’s sight.
“The thread… broke?” he hissed, momentarily thrown off.
Before he could reorient himself, an arrow of pure force formed beneath him, its glow burning red — pointing backwards. Then, suddenly, he was yanked violently through the air. The world blurred; walls, ground, sky all spun as he was slammed backward into the remnants of the wall behind him.
Pain shot through his ribs. He barely managed to get his feet beneath him when another arrow appeared, dragging him in every direction — spinning, slamming, tearing through the battlefield like an invisible storm.
Finally, the last arrow vanished — and gravity took hold. He plummeted.
Sae drew in a sharp breath. A technique… I’ll use a technique to soften the fall.
“Water Breathing: Eighth Form — Water Gall Basin!” he shouted as he swung downward. His blade sliced the ground, water surging outward to absorb the impact — but the force still sent him sprawling, dirt and blood mixing beneath his palms.
He pushed himself up, spitting dust from his mouth, his eyes flashing with fury as he glared at the demon before him.
Aku tilted his head. “You’re persistent,” he said calmly, his voice tinged with mockery. Then he smirked. “Yami. Isn’t that one over there Nanase — the runaway? She’ll make a fine present for Iglesias.”
---
Across the clearing, Yami’s laughter grew louder. “Really?” she purred, her voice sickly sweet. She raised her six arms high, temari balls spinning faster and faster, their arcs blurring into streaks of color.
One of the balls dropped to the ground near Rin. His instincts kicked in — he darted forward, aiming to kick it back — but Nanase’s voice tore through the air, panicked.
“No! You mustn’t kick it—!”
But it was too late.
The temari connected with Rin’s leg mid-motion. There was a sharp, sickening sound — and then blood sprayed across the ground as his leg was severed cleanly below the knee.
“Rin!” Sae’s voice roared across the battlefield, breaking the night. His composure snapped in an instant. The calm, indifferent mask he always wore was gone — replaced by raw, unfiltered rage.
The young boy crumpled to the dirt, pain contorting his delicate features. Before he could even stand up, Yami was upon him. One of her feet struck his stomach, the impact brutal. The air was knocked from his lungs as Rin was thrown backward, slamming through the broken remains of the house.
Sae’s breath caught in his chest — not from pain, but from fury. His hand trembled as he gripped his sword. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears.
“Rin! Roll!” he shouted, but Rin didn’t move.
The sight of his brother — motionless — made something inside Sae fracture. His teeth clenched until his jaw ached. His glare fixed on Yami, who only laughed again, delighting in the suffering she’d caused.
“Kya ha ha ha! He’s so fragile,” she taunted, spinning another ball in her hand. “Will you cry if I crush him completely, Demon Slayer?”
Sae’s expression darkened. The shadows of the ruins seemed to close in around him.
“Try it,” he hissed, voice low and trembling with quiet wrath. “And I’ll rip out your tongue before you finish laughing.”
The words came out cold — no shout, no fury in his tone — but the killing intent behind them was unmistakable. Even Yami paused, her grin twitching for a second before returning.
Meanwhile, Hiori and Nanase stood side by side. Hiori’s head had almost finished regenerating, though blood still trickled from his temple. He placed a trembling hand on Nanase’s shoulder, his eyes gentle despite the chaos.
“Lady Nijiro,” he said softly, “I’ll cover you. We’ll protect them both.”
Nanase nodded weakly, her own body still healing from the temari’s slashes. She turned her gaze to Rin, helplessness flickering in her usually calm eyes.
Sae’s knuckles whitened around his sword. He drew in a breath that shuddered between his teeth — then stepped forward, each movement heavy with purpose.
The arrow demon sneered. “You think your anger will save you?”
Sae didn’t answer. He simply adjusted his stance.
Water flowed beneath his feet — not literal, but the illusion of it, the rhythm of his breathing transforming his presence. His aura shifted; the air around him rippled faintly, deadly calm.
In that heartbeat, all noise seemed to fade.
Sae spoke at last, his voice low and ice-cold. “You two made the wrong mistake tonight.”
The katana gleamed as he lifted it.
“You hurt my brother.”
And though Sae’s expression remained emotionless, his eyes burned bright with something fierce and human — an unspoken vow.
He would kill them both.
No matter what it took.
The battle raged under a pale, broken moon.
Ash drifted across the ruined courtyard where the two demons laughed — their laughter sharp, echoing like a cruel melody. Yami twirled her six temari balls in delight, her long hair fanning out behind her. She was soaked in blood, but her grin never faltered. “This is fun! This is fun!” she sang. “Kemari is good too! Aku! Wouldn’t it be nice to take back four heads tonight?”
Aku, lazily still controlling the arrow, didn’t share her amusement. He brushed the dust from his dark kimono, his long fingers tapping against the fabric with mild distaste. “No,” he said flatly. “Just two. The demon hunter’s and the runaway’s.” His tone was bored, but his sharp eyes — one in his face, one embedded in his palm — gleamed faintly with malice.
Sae’s gaze flicked between the two demons, irritation pulling at the edge of his calm. His hands tightened on his katana’s hilt until his knuckles whitened. Loud, arrogant bastards, he thought. Just keep talking. The more you talk, the more openings I’ll find.
He glanced briefly to his side — to where Rin lay motionless against the wreckage of the fallen house. Nanase had reached him, her long hair streaked with ash and blood. Her hands trembled slightly as she touched Rin. “Hold still, Rin,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the chaos.
Rin looked up at him. Steam rose faintly from his severed leg, regeneration.
Nanase’s thoughts twisted with worry. The blood’s still flowing too fast… His regeneration is slow, slower than demon usually is. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a small syringe filled with a faintly glowing liquid. “This drug will help your leg heal faster,” she murmured, though Rin’s eyes fluttered at her. She injected it near the wound, whispering a soft chant under her breath.
Behind her, Sae turned away — jaw tight, anger burning beneath his composure. Rin is suffering because of that shitty demon. Because I let my focus slip.
He forced himself to breathe evenly, to bring his thoughts back to the fight. Aku’s arrows still swirled faintly in the air, glowing crimson against the dark.
What should I do? Sae thought, narrowing his eyes. I can’t afford to lose — not now. But even if I can see the opening thread, he’s so damn hard to hit. His jaw flexed. A technique, maybe. But if I can’t land a solid hit, it’s useless. He’ll just redirect my blade with those cursed arrows.
He glanced at Aku’s hands — each palm holding an eye that blinked independently. The sight made his skin crawl. Half-baked eyes… disgusting.
Suddenly, one of the eyes blinked.
And the air screamed.
Invisible arrows tore through the ground toward him, the pressure alone cracking the earth. Sae moved instantly — ducking, sidestepping, his body flowing like water. Every time he dodged one, another appeared, faster, closer.
The speed of those things… His teeth clenched. And they don’t vanish until they hit something. Even my sword doesn’t cut them — the moment I touch one, it redirects me like a puppet on strings.
He leapt over the next volley, landing on one knee. What can I do?
Before he could finish the thought, one arrow curved sharply, wrapping itself around his forearm like a serpent of red light.
Aku smiled faintly. “Everything goes where I want it to,” he murmured. “Your arm will twist and tear off.”
The arrow pulsed — the force pulling at Sae’s limb, threatening to snap it backward. But Sae moved first, spinning sharply midair. The momentum of the arrow shifted — and instead of breaking him, it swung him around in a full circle.
Aku’s eyes widened a fraction. That monkey—he spun in the same direction as the Kotetsu arrow?
“Tsk!” the demon hissed, slamming his palm shut, breaking the arrow.
Sae landed lightly, panting faintly. He didn’t even look at Aku. His attention had drifted — his eyes tracking something fluttering through the air.
His haori.
The white-and-green fabric, stitched with even seams, fluttered down near the broken fence. Rin had sewn it by hand — the first and only one he’d ever made. Sae’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment. He moved, lightning-fast, to catch it before it touched the dirty ground. His hand caught the sleeve gently, folding it inward. It won’t rip apart, he thought. Not again.
Then his expression hardened. He straightened, facing Aku once more, his blade raised. I can’t keep fighting defensively. I need to fight back.
He took a slow breath. His pupils narrowed, focus sharpening. I wonder… Can I redirect those arrows without touching them?
His breathing deepened — water breathing form setting in, his muscles coiling. If I combine Form One’s winding with Form Three’s footwork… I might be able to use his own momentum.
He dashed forward.
Arrows streaked toward him from every angle — a storm of red light. But Sae’s movements were different now — no longer frantic, but fluid. He ducked low, spun left, twisted his blade mid-swing. His sword whirled through the air like a current of water, drawing a spiral that pulled the arrows into its path.
“Water Breathing… Whirlpool: Flow!”
The water-like energy coiled from his katana, dragging the arrows together — redirecting their path back through the air. For the first time, Aku looked alarmed.
“What—”
Sae didn’t stop. The arrows still clung faintly to his sword, glowing against the steel, but he didn’t care. The weight of them only made his strike heavier. He stepped in close — too close for Aku to react.
The demon’s hand eyes blinked, frantic. “Stay back—”
“Second Form,” Sae whispered, his voice like frost, “Improved Lateral Water Wheel!”
He twisted, blade slicing in a clean, circular arc — so fast it blurred. The impact exploded through the air, the sound sharp as thunder.
Aku’s eyes widened — not the ones on his palms, but his real ones. For a moment, he tried to twist the arrows again, to redirect the blow. But Sae’s timing was perfect — his attack struck faster than the demon could command.
The blade tore through Aku’s shoulder, splitting deep into his chest. Dark blood sprayed across the dirt.
Sae successfully cut the arrow demon’s head — Aku’s head — cleanly. His breath came heavy and fast as water splashed in a spiraling arc behind him, the last echo of his technique fading into silence.
Sae thought. I did it, out of the water, whirlpool’s force is usually weaker. But his own attack increased its power, and it wound the arrows up.
Aku’s head bounced off the ground, rolling several times before it stopped upright, glaring at Sae with sheer hatred. His mouth twisted as he yelled angrily, “Agh! You no-good... dirty... bastard! If I’d only brought back your head, he’d have recognized my value! I’ll never forgive you! Not ever! Never! Plus, you got dirt on my face! I’ll crush you!”
The voice echoed through the half-destroyed street, harsh and filled with venom. Sae’s eyes narrowed, his body tensing — that tone still carried power, and the markings on Aku’s severed hands began to glow.
Sae looked down and saw the countless glowing arrows still stuck to his body, pointing in several directions.
Sae thought: His attack got me. We’re gonna take each other out. I’m being pulled by his strongest attack yet. I gotta keep my guard up and think of a bunch of techniques or this damn demon will crush me.
The arrows pulsed once — and suddenly Sae’s entire body was flung backward with tremendous force. Dust and debris scattered in every direction as he slammed into the broken walls. He gritted his teeth, blood dripping from his lip.
Sae thought: The first direction... is the wall again.
He twisted his body midair, forcing his breath into focus.
“Fourth Form: Striking Tide!”
The blade cut through the air with precision, redirecting the momentum and narrowly dodging the collapsing wall. His shoulder still scraped against the broken wood, sending a shock of pain through his ribs.
Sae thought: This fuckass demon...
But before he could even land properly, another surge of energy shot through the arrows — this time yanking him violently upward. His vision spun, the sky and rubble mixing together in dizzying blur.
Sae thought: Ugh. So much pressure... can’t swing my katana. Gotta... use... a technique chain! I better get this right... the first time.
His eyes hardened, his breathing deepened — Total Concentration.
“Striking Tide!”
“Water Wheel!”
“Drop Ripple Thrust!”
“Waterfall Basin!”
“Water Surface Slash!”
Each name tore from his lips like bursts of determination. His body flickered through the air, twisting and cutting, redirecting every arrow with perfect timing. The water-like arcs danced behind him, creating a web of blue trails that lit up the darkness.
Sae thought: I’ve never done back-to-back techniques like this before. I feel like my arms are tearing off. How many more? How many times? Don’t think. Keep up the techniques!
“Waterfall Basin!”
“Water Wheel!”
“Striking Tide!”
“Whirlpool!”
Finally, the final strike exploded with such force that it ripped the air itself. The arrows disintegrated one by one, their glowing trails fading.
That was the final straw.
Sae dropped to the ground with a loud thud, dust rising around him. His body trembled from exhaustion, his breathing uneven and ragged.
He gasped, air scraping his throat, his mind clouded with pain and adrenaline. There was only one image in his mind — Rin.
Sae thought. Rin...
The sound of faint explosions and laughter echoed in the distance — Yami’s voice. Sae’s eyes widened slightly as he realized the battle wasn’t over yet.
He pushed himself up, his muscles screaming. I broke.. my ribs... and leg...
He tried to reach his katana, but his trembling hand refused to close around the hilt. His fingers shook uncontrollably, blood dripping from his palm.
Sae thought: Too tired to swing my sword. No use. Gotta go fast... there are still demons...
He clenched his jaw, bit down on the katana’s handle with his teeth, and began crawling forward. Each drag of his body left a faint trail on the dirt.
Sae thought: I’ll be there soon. So please... just stay safe, Rin!
---
Rin finally moved.
He had been standing still, silent all this time — his eyes dim but focused. His wounds were closing slowly, steam rising from his body. His hair clung to his face, his expression empty yet determined.
Yami smirked at him. “Kya ha ha! You again? Going to kick my ball back like a little brat?”
She hurled a Temari ball directly toward Rin’s face — but Rin didn’t flinch. His foot shot up instantly, striking the ball midair with perfect timing.
BAM!
The ball flew back toward Yami, who caught it instantly, though the force made her slide backward several feet.
Yami blinked, surprised, sweat beading her forehead. G-gonna show... this brat!
She kicked it again, this time with double the power, the air cracking from the speed. But Rin met it again with a stronger kick, the impact resounding through the air like thunder.
The Temari ball bounced between them — Yami’s manic laughter echoing as the ball’s speed increased each time.
Kick after kick — faster and faster.
Each impact sent shockwaves through the street, shaking loose debris from the broken walls.
The ball blurred between them, a storm of motion and sound.
Finally, one last impact — so strong it cracked the ground beneath Rin’s feet.
The Temari ball dropped to the dirt, motionless for the first time.
Both Yami and Rin stood still — eyes locked.
Dust drifted slowly through the air.
And for a moment, everything was silent.
Yami stood there, her chest rising and falling as she gripped one of her Temari balls tightly. The air was thick with the remnants of destruction — broken walls, cracked beams, the faint scent of dust and demon blood hanging in the air. Her once-playful grin had turned rigid, and a flicker of irritation trembled across her face.
Okay… no more kemari, she thought darkly, clutching the Temari ball tighter. The veins in her hand bulged slightly, her long nails digging into the leather. “This time,” she hissed, her voice trembling with excitement, “no more games.”
With a violent swing of her arm, she threw the Temari ball at Rin. The air cracked as it sliced through, spiraling with an almost invisible force. This time, the speed was much greater, the impact meant to shatter bone and destroy anything in its path.
But Rin didn’t flinch.
His frame remained still until the very last moment — and then, with a sudden burst of strength, his foot rose and kicked the ball straight back. The contact boomed through the space like thunder, rattling the broken wooden beams. The Temari ball shot back at Yami with blinding speed, forcing her to jerk her head aside just in time. The ball grazed her cheek and struck the wall behind her. The wall cracked open with a deep, echoing thud.
Yami’s eyes widened. She blinked in disbelief, feeling the faint sting on her cheek. The playful glimmer in her expression faltered. “Wh–what…?”
The wall behind her splintered like paper. Chunks of debris fell, rolling onto the cracked floor. Hiori, watching from the corner, was frozen in awe. His mouth opened slightly as he turned to Nanase. “Lady Nijiro, this—”
But Nanase, already anticipating what he would say, cut him off. Her voice was calm but firm. “The drug I used was just a recovery agent for demons,” she said, her eyes never leaving Rin. “It does not have the effect of strengthening the body. This is Rin’s strength. He’s growing stronger on his own… without eating any human flesh.”
Her gaze softened for a moment, but worry quickly replaced it. He’s growing stronger, yes, she thought, but his opponent… she’s far too powerful. The faint glow of blood around Yami’s hands shimmered ominously. If that demon attacks at full strength, Rin will surely fall. I must do something.
Yami lowered her Temari ball, her lips twisting into a grin again. “You sure are interesting, little boy!” she called out. Her voice was sing-song, high-pitched and almost giddy. “This time, I’ll throw the mari with my full strength!”
But before she could move, Nanase’s voice rang out, cold and clear. “Girl of the Twelve Kizuki,” she said evenly, her eyes sharp as glass. “Do you know the truth about Iglesias?”
The question hit Yami like a slap. Her smirk faltered. Her six arms tensed, the Temari balls in her hands stopping mid-spin. “What?” she spat, her tone defensive and sharp. “What would you know about it?! You’re just a runaway!”
Nanase’s expression didn’t waver. “That man is always terrified of something,” she said softly, but her words carried. “He is nothing more than a coward.”
“Be quiet, you witch!” Yami screamed, rage bursting from her throat. “Shut your mouth!”
But Nanase didn’t stop. “Do you know the reason demons are forbidden to group up?” she continued, her tone cutting through the air. “He tells you it’s because you would attack and eat each other. But that’s not true.”
Yami froze, her six hands trembling slightly. “W–What?”
Nanase’s eyes glimmered with cold light. “He tells you that to manipulate you. He’s afraid of demons teaming up and attacking him. He’s afraid of you.”
“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Yami screamed, clutching her head as if trying to block the words out. Her eyes burned with fury. “He isn’t that weak! His abilities are fearsome! He’s stronger than anyone!”
Yami’s voice cracked as she shouted, “Iglesias is—!” but the rest of her words died in her throat. Her eyes widened, trembling as if the air itself turned cold around her. She clutched her mouth with shaking hands, breath hitching. A bead of sweat slid down her temple. Fear paralyzed her completely.
Hiori turned his head toward Nanase, his brow furrowed. Lady Nijiro… she’s using her ability.
Nanase raised her hand, the cut she had made earlier reopening. The blood from her arm flowed down her pale skin. The metallic scent thickened in the air. Her voice was low and rhythmic now, the tone steady like a chant.
“Magical Aroma of Daylight,” she whispered. The crimson blood began to release a faint, shimmering mist that swirled around her. Magical Aroma of Daylight… it acts as a truth serum. It subdues brain functions so stating falsehoods or keeping secrets becomes impossible.
As the scent spread, Yami stumbled back a step. Her breathing hitched. “Wh–What are you—” she started, but her voice cracked.
Nanase’s gaze hardened. “You said his name,” she said quietly. “Thus triggering the curse.”
Yami’s pupils shrank. Her breathing grew ragged. The veins in her neck bulged as she clutched at her throat. “No… no…” she rasped. Beads of sweat rolled down her face. Her body began trembling uncontrollably.
“I pity you,” Nanase murmured. “But I had no choice.”
Yami suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream. “YAAAAAAAH!” Her voice tore through the air like glass shattering. Her back arched unnaturally, her six arms convulsing as if pulled by invisible strings. Her claws dug into her flesh, drawing thick streams of blood.
“Please, forgive me! Please, forgive me! Please, forgive me!” she cried, her voice breaking between each desperate plea. Her body trembled violently, and she threw her head back, shrieking again. “Forgive—!”
That was when Sae arrived.
He was still crawling, his movements sluggish and heavy. His breathing was shallow, each exhale shaking. Dust clung to his clothes, blood dripping from a cut across his forehead. He froze when he saw the scene before him.
Yami’s body was twitching and jerking violently, her head thrown back, her mouth open in a soundless scream now. Sae’s eyes narrowed slightly. His mind couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. What the hell is happening to her?
And then—
the air thickened.
The sound was wet and heavy.
Splrch.
A grotesque noise tore through the silence.
From Yami’s mouth, a long, pale arm shot outward — thin, sinewy, slick with dark blood. The clawed hand twitched as it reached upward, its fingers curling like they were grasping for the air.
Yami’s eyes rolled back.
Another arm burst through her stomach with a violent crack of bone and flesh, tearing her kimono apart.
And then a third — this time through her chest, snapping ribs as blood splattered across the ruined floor.
Nanase didn’t move. Hiori stood frozen in horror, his usually calm expression wiped clean, replaced by raw shock. Even Sae, crawling closer, stopped completely, the blade in his hand trembling.
The blood pooled beneath Yami, steaming slightly as it mixed with the dirt. The hands twitched once, twice—
—and then went still.
Yami stood, impaled by her own curse, her head limp, the Temari ball rolling from her hand and clattering onto the floor.
The hand that had burst through Yami’s mouth suddenly tightened its grip — clutching her head.
Then, with one brutal motion, it crushed.
A wet, dull crack echoed. Blood sprayed against the floor and wall as Yami’s head was destroyed in an instant, her body falling limp.
Sae froze where he lay, still on the ground. The katana that had been clenched between his teeth slipped free, hitting the floor with a dull clang.
He didn’t move. His expression stayed calm, but his eyes told another story — a silent horror that twisted behind his usual composure.
Hiori stood rooted in place, face pale, eyes wide with disbelief.
Nanase turned away, her jaw tightening. She couldn’t bring herself to watch.
And Rin — Sae’s precious little brother — stared at the scene, frozen. His eyes widened, reflecting the faint light of dawn seeping in through the cracks.
Nanase exhaled softly and walked toward what was left of the ball demon. Her movements were calm, deliberate. She knelt beside the body, examining it closely.
Her eyes moved to Yami’s remaining eyeball, its surface dull but still faintly glimmering with demon blood. Then she turned her head toward Sae.
“Is she dead?” Sae asked quietly.
“She will be soon,” Nanase replied. Her tone was steady. “It’s the curse. Iglesias’s cells remain in the body to destroy the flesh. Basically, fighting between demons is meaningless. It’s impossible to strike a fatal blow — unless it’s done by sunlight, or the katana of a Demon Slayer. However…” she paused briefly, “Iglesias can destroy a demon’s cells.”
Suddenly, Hiori stepped forward quickly. His voice carried urgency. “Sae-kun!” He crouched down, pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve and pressing it over Sae’s mouth and nose. “Don’t fall prey to Lady Nijiro’s power… or you’ll die too!”
“Yo,” Nanase said looking at Hiori before sharply, cutting him off. “Sae…” She looked at him directly. “She is not one of the Twelve Kizuki.”
Sae blinked once, his expression shifting — a faint sign of annoyance showing through his otherwise calm face.
Nanase pointed toward the fallen demon’s eye. “The numbers of the Twelve Kizuki are engraved on their eyeballs. Her eyes are not marked. The other one wasn’t among them either. He was too weak.”
Sae thought quietly: Figures. That’s why he was weak and dumb when I fought him.
Nanase drew a syringe from her belt, inserting it carefully into what was left of the demon’s body. She filled it with blood and stood.
“I have the blood,” she said evenly. “I’ll tend to Rin. Unfortunately, while treating his wounds, I also allowed him to inhale some of my spell. I’m sorry.”
Hiori huffed, folding his arms, though his relief was clear. “What a dumb demons,” he muttered. “Serves them right for threatening Lady Nijiro.”
He glanced back at Sae, still crouched, still holding the handkerchief. His expression softened with worry. “Are you okay, Sae-kun?”
Hiori’s voice was sincere now — he trusted Sae completely, just as Nanase did.
Sae looked at him briefly before replying, calm as ever. “Go to Nanase. It’s almost dawn.”
Hiori hesitated for a second, his gaze lingering on Sae. Then she nodded faintly and turned away. Nanase and Hiori walked back toward the ruined house, the air heavy with silence.
Sae sat there, holding the handkerchief to his face, his breathing steady. Slowly, he crawled over to what remained of the demon’s body. He reached out and picked up one of the Temari balls lying nearby.
He placed it gently in front of the corpse.
“Here is a Mari,” he said quietly.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then a faint, broken voice slipped from what was left of Yami’s mouth.
“Let’s… play… pl…”
Sae froze. His eyes didn't soften even for a moment but he nodded his head.
She’s like a small child, he thought. But she’s killed so many people.
The sun rose slowly, the first light touching the bloodstained ground. The demon’s remains began to disintegrate, fading into ash that drifted away with the wind — leaving behind only the tattered clothing and the Temari balls.
Sae sat quietly, watching until nothing was left.
She was fooled into believing she was one of the Twelve Kizuki and forced to fight… and then Iglesias’s curse killed her. There was no hope for her. After dying, even her bones disappeared without a trace.
Is that the price for taking human life?
He lowered the handkerchief from his face, his jaw tightening.
This time, his thoughts burned with anger.
Iglesias… he mistreats even those who admire him. He is undeniably… a true demon.
Sae forced his broken body to move. Each breath ached, but he pushed through, steadying himself with one hand against the wall. The ruin house stood in front of him, quiet except for the faint creaking of its broken frame. He stepped forward, dragging his injured leg as he slipped through a hole in the wall.
“Nanase…” Sae called, his voice low, tired, but steady.
A voice answered from somewhere deeper inside.
“This way. Underground.”
It was Nanase’s voice — calm but faintly strained.
Sae nodded out of habit, even though she couldn’t see him. He made his way to the half-collapsed door, pushed it open, and descended the creaking stairs.
The air below was cool, damp, and faintly filled with the scent of medicine. The faint glow of a lantern revealed Nanase kneeling near Rin, Hiori standing nearby.
The moment Sae’s foot touched the last step, Rin suddenly looked up — and before Sae could say a word, the boy rushed forward.
Rin flung his arms around him tightly, almost knocking Sae off balance. For a second, Sae froze — then, slowly, he placed his hand on Rin’s back and returned the hug.
“…Rin,” Sae murmured softly.
Rin didn’t say anything, just clung to him a little longer before letting go. Then, without a word, Rin walked past him toward Nanase and Hiori.
“Rin…?” Sae said quietly, his tone uncertain.
Rin didn’t answer. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Nanase. The doctor blinked in surprise, her hand hovering awkwardly before resting on his shoulder. Then Rin reached out and patted Hiori’s head like Hiori is younger than him which Hiori wasn't.
“Rin has been like this for a little while,” Nanase said softly, glancing at Sae. “Is it… normal?”
Sae exhaled faintly, his usual indifferent tone returning. “It’s all right. He probably thinks of you two as part of our family.”
“Family?” Nanase repeated, puzzled. “But… doesn’t the hypnosis you placed on Rin only make him see humans as family? We’re demons, Sae.”
Hiori tilted his head slightly as Rin patted him again, his expression unreadable.
Sae replied without hesitation. “Rin sees you as humans. That’s why he tried to protect you.”
Rin hugged Nanase again tightly. Sae watched, his eyes softening just slightly. “I didn’t like putting him under hypnosis,” he said, his voice quiet. “So I’m glad he seems to still have his own—”
He didn’t finish.
Nanase had begun to cry. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, glistening in the dim light.
“Rin, stop,” Sae said, his tone firm but not harsh. “Let go of her. It’s rude.”
But instead of pulling away, Nanase wrapped her arms around Rin and held him close. “Thank you, Rin,” she whispered through her tears. “Thank you…”
Hiori smiled faintly at the sight. His thoughts drifted away — back to a different time.
Do you want to live?
He could still hear Nanase’s voice, the night she turned him.
Truly? Do you want to live, even if you cease to be human?
He had been sick, dying slowly, his body wasting away.
As a human, you will probably lose your life to disease. But… to stop being human… is even harder.
He had accepted then. And now, he was here — alive, though not quite human anymore.
The memory faded.
In the present, Hiori’s gaze shifted toward Nanase. He thought of the price she had paid for saving him — the loneliness, the guilt.
Sae then looked beside Hiori. The passing man from before now the man is with pale eyes, now a demon, locked inside a small wooden cage. Outside it, a woman — his wife — sat sleeping, wrapped in a thin blanket, her face still streaked with tears.
Nanase looked away from Rin, her voice steady again. “We are leaving this city,” she said quietly. “We came too close to Iglesias. If we don’t hide ourselves soon, it will become dangerous for us.”
She stood and began to gather her things — medical tools, vials, a few small books bound in cloth.
“Besides,” she continued, “even though we were well hidden, as a doctor I dealt with humans. Sooner or later, someone would have noticed what we are. Children and the elderly are particularly sharp.”
Sae listened silently, nodding slightly. “You’re right,” he said.
Nanase turned to him again, hesitating before speaking. “Sae-kun… may we take care of Rin? I can’t say he’ll definitely be safe, but the danger will be less than if he continues to fight beside you.”
Hiori nodded in agreement, his eyes sincere.
Sae froze. His hand trembled slightly as he looked at Rin, who stood quietly between them.
She’s probably right, he thought. It’d be a nicer life for Rin too.
He opened his mouth to respond — but before he could speak, Rin moved.
Rin reached out and grabbed Sae’s hand firmly.
Sae blinked in surprise, meeting Rin’s eyes.
Then Rin gave a small, determined nod — a silent answer that needed no words.
Sae’s expression softened. “…Thank you for the offer,” he said finally, looking at Nanase and Hiori. “But we’ll continue to travel together. We aren’t going to split up. Never again.”
Nanase looked at him for a moment, then smiled gently through her fading tears. “I understand. Then I pray for good fortune in your war.”
She turned away, beginning to pack the last of her supplies. “Goodbye, then. We’ll erase all traces of our presence. You should go too.”
Sae nodded. “The sun is up,” he said, glancing toward Rin’s box. “I’ll need that.”
Rin stepped toward the box quietly, and the two brothers turned to leave.
As they reached the stairs, Hiori called out, “Sae.”
Sae stopped and turned his head slightly.
“Your brother,” Hiori said with a small smile. “He’s beautiful.”
Sae didn’t respond with words. He just gave a single nod and walked away, the faintest flicker of pride hidden behind his calm eyes.
They stepped outside. The early morning light spilled across the ruined street, touching the debris with soft gold. Behind them, Nanase and Hiori’s presence faded quietly into the shadows.
The journey ahead was long.
---
Hours later, Sae and Rin were far from the city — following a dirt path that led through wide open fields. Villagers were already working, bending knee-deep in the water of the rice paddies, their reflections wavering in the flooded plots. The sun shimmered on the horizon. Sae carried a large wooden box on his back, each step steady despite the weight. Inside the box was Rin — hidden away from the sunlight that would burn him.
The familiar, grating voice of the crow echoed beside Sae’s ear.
“South–southeast! South–southeast! South–southeast! Your next goal is to the south–southeast!”
Sae sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I got it,” he muttered, his tone flat and tired. “Could you quiet down a bit, you damn crow?”
The crow squawked indignantly, but Sae ignored it. His gaze shifted ahead — to the narrow path that wound between the paddies.
A few villagers were passing by, carrying bundles of grain. Among them, a boy stood out — tall, with hair the color of deep blue streaked with green. He leaned casually against a fence, speaking to a young woman who looked uncomfortable and annoyed under his attention.
Sae slowed his steps. The crow tilted its head.
The man’s voice carried across the open air — smooth, teasing, too confident.
Sae’s expression didn’t change.
He didn’t care who the boy was — but if he kept bothering the girl, Sae wasn’t going to just walk past.
Sae’s gaze lingered on the boy who was still trying, rather pathetically, to flirt with the girl. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared — as long as the kid knew his limits, Sae preferred to stay out of pointless drama. But then, a sigh escaped him as familiar faces flashed in his mind — Snuffy’s disapproving frown, Kiyora’s quiet scolding, Kurona’s disappointed sigh, Nanase’s and Hiori’s subtle shake of the head. And Rin… Rin’s sharp eyes he used whenever Sae 'ignored' something he shouldn’t.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling in mild irritation. He could already imagine their collective judgment if he just walked away. With a resigned groan, “Tch… I really don’t get paid enough for this,” he muttered under his breath.
Notes:
Author’s Note:
This will probably be the last update before I take a break for exams. I’ve been improving my writing a bit—especially my English! Oh, and I have my English exam and art exam tomorrow. Wish me luck, I guess!Also Sae soften around Rin <3
Chapter 4: New friends?
Summary:
Sae never expected that demon hunting would mean babysitting two disasters. Sae is just tired—but despite the chaos, he can’t help feeling that, for the first time since losing his family, he isn’t alone on this journey.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The sparrow’s chirping was relentless.
Sae didn’t need to understand the language of birds to know what it meant — annoyance. The tiny creature darted around his shoulder, wings flapping so fast they blurred, its voice shrill and impatient. He exhaled through his nose, glaring at it.
“What?” he muttered flatly.
The sparrow chirped again and zipped ahead, stopping midair before turning toward him as if to say follow me. Sae pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d had enough of strange birds giving him orders for one lifetime.
Still, the sparrow persisted — even tugging lightly at a strand of his hair with its beak.
Sae’s jaw ticked. “Fine,” he hissed, brushing off invisible dust from his uniform as he started walking.
He followed the bird down a dirt path lined with withering grass and the faint scent of rain still clinging to the soil. A few paces ahead, he spotted the reason for the sparrow’s frantic insistence — a man with dark blue hair streaked with green, standing far too close to a young woman. The girl’s expression was clearly uncomfortable; her shoulders hunched, and she took a step back for every one the man took forward.
Sae’s irritation spiked. He sighed, rolled his shoulders, and muttered under his breath, “Unbelievable…”
The sparrow chirped loudly, almost like it was saying yes, exactly.
Sae didn’t think. He just moved. He reached out, grabbed the blue-haired man by the back of his haori, and yanked him backward with enough force to make him stumble.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing in the middle of the road?” Sae said coldly, his tone sharp as a blade. “Can’t you see this girl doesn’t like it? And quit upsetting your damn sparrows.”
The man blinked in surprise, but instead of apologizing, he grinned — wide and unbothered. “That’s a Corps uniform,” he said, voice light and teasing. “So you were at Final Selection too?”
Sae’s brows twitched. “I don’t know anyone like you.”
The man’s grin faltered for half a second, then he made a mock-hurt face. “Ouch. Harsh. We’ve met, though. The problem is your memory.”
Sae’s glare was sharp enough to cut through bone. It shut the man up, though the grin didn’t completely leave his face. He seemed amused — like Sae’s anger was entertaining him.
Ignoring him, Sae turned toward the girl and spoke, his tone more formal, though clearly forced. “Go home.”
The girl blinked, startled by the shift in tone, then bowed politely. “Thank you,” she said — and before Sae could step away, she slapped the blue-haired man. Hard. Then again. And again.
Sae stood there silently, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. He wasn’t going to interfere. The guy deserved it.
The girl’s voice rose in frustration. “When did I ever say I liked you?! You were crouched at the side of the road — you looked sick, so I asked if you were all right!”
The man — clearly not reading the room — blinked and said, “You didn’t come over because you thought you might like me?”
Sae audibly groaned.
The girl turned red, from anger rather than embarrassment. “I’m engaged! So definitely not! If you’re healthy enough to flirt, you’re fine. Goodbye!”
And with that, she stomped off, her sandals kicking up dust. Sae just stared after her, his face blank. Then he turned back to the man, visibly disgusted.
“You’re pathetic,” Sae muttered. “And you made me watch that.”
The man just rubbed his cheek and laughed sheepishly. “Ah, my bad. I guess that didn’t go how I thought it would.” He extended a hand like they were old friends. “I’m Oliver Aiku.”
Sae didn’t take it. “Sae,” he said simply, his voice flat. “Itoshi Sae.”
“Nice to meet you, Itoshi,” Aiku said brightly, completely ignoring Sae’s dead tone. “You’ve got a strong grip, by the way. That hurt.”
Sae ignored him and started walking away. “Then don’t make me use it again.”
Before he paused and shot him a flat look, eyes cold beneath his fringe. “Don’t call me Itoshi,” he said sharply, brushing past Aiku without slowing his pace. “Just Sae.” His tone left no room for argument, but Aiku only chuckled behind him, clearly amused by how serious Sae sounded.
Aiku followed like an annoying ghost, hands behind his head, humming. “You’re not exactly the talkative type, huh?”
Sae’s response was a quiet, unimpressed, “Lukewarm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Means you talk too much for someone who’s barely useful.”
Aiku chuckled. “You’re a tough crowd.”
The sparrow chirped again, flapping near Sae’s face as if scolding him for being rude. Sae side-eyed it. “Don’t upset your sparrow,” he muttered, tossing a rice ball from his pouch toward Aiku without even looking.
Aiku caught it midair, blinking. “...This for me?”
“You look like a homeless man,” Sae said bluntly. “And old. Like someone who’s been married and divorced three times.”
Aiku barked a laugh. “Wow. You really know how to compliment someone, huh? And for the record, I’m just one year older than you.”
Sae didn’t react, but the faintest twitch of surprise flickered in his eyes. “You look worse.”
Aiku bit into the rice ball with a grin. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The sparrow fluttered above Aiku’s head, chirping angrily again. Aiku tilted his head. “The sparrow’s upset? How do you know?”
Sae glanced sideways at him, unimpressed. “It said you’re always like this. So it doesn’t want to rush you off to a job. Besides bothering girls, you also snore loudly.”
Aiku blinked. “You… understand bird language?”
Before Sae could answer, his own Kasugai crow swooped down, landing on his head. Its voice was sharp and urgent.
“Kaw! Quickly! Quickly! Sae! Aiku! Run!”
Aiku froze mid-bite. “Wait, run? From what?”
Sae’s expression shifted — cold, focused. He scanned the horizon. “Something’s wrong.”
They followed the crow’s lead up a mountain path until they stood before a large traditional mansion — the kind built in the Taishō era, with dark, weathered wood and sliding shoji doors that creaked even without the wind. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and something else. Something metallic.
“I smell blood,” Sae said quietly, his hand resting on his sword. “And something else.”
Aiku tilted his head. “Smell? What smell? I’ve never smelled anything weird before.” He cupped a hand to his ear. “But there’s… a sound. Drums? Like a tsuzumi.”
Sae didn’t answer right away. His eyes darted toward the bushes — two small figures huddled there, trembling. A boy and his younger sister. The older one was trying to shield her with his body, even though he was shaking himself.
Sae’s expression softened, just slightly. It reminded him of Rin — of how they used to be before everything went to hell.
He approached carefully, crouching down to their level. “Children,” he said evenly, voice calm but firm. “What are you two doing in a place like this?”
The boy flinched. Sae sighed and opened his hand — the sparrow perched there, chirping softly, harmless. The two kids stared at it, wide-eyed.
Then they broke down crying, trembling harder.
Sae frowned. “Did something happen here? Is that your house?”
The older boy nodded weakly, tears running down his face. “It’s a h-house… of m-monsters!”
The little girl sobbed into her brother’s arm. “It took our older brother! We were out walking at night, and without even looking at us, it took him!”
Sae’s jaw tightened. “So he’s in that house?”
“Y-yes!” the boy stammered. “H-he was hurt, so we followed… h-his spilled b-blood…”
Sae clenched his fists. Wounded, he thought grimly.
He straightened up. “I’ll save your brother.”
The little girl looked up, tears streaking her face. “R-really?”
“Yes,” Sae said. “I promise.”
Aiku, standing nearby with his hands still in his pockets, glanced at him sideways. “Sae. Hey, what is that sound? It’s starting to bug me. And it won’t stop — like a tsuzumi.”
Sae paused. “Sound? A sound?”
Before he could finish, a window shattered above them — and something fell. A young boy, covered in blood, crashed onto the ground in front of them. Aiku didn’t hesitate; he caught the boy mid-fall, his usual grin gone.
“Hey—hey! Are you all right? Hang in there!”
The boy’s lips trembled, blood pooling at the corner of his mouth. “I… got away… a-aagh… I got out… but… am I… dying?”
Sae turned the kids away, blocking their sight. His voice was calm but tight. “Don’t look.”
Aiku looked up, eyes narrowing. “Sae…”
The ground rumbled. The air shifted. Then — from the direction of the mansion — came a low, rhythmic beat. The sound of a drum.
The air was still heavy with the smell of blood.
Aiku crouched, lowering the limp body of a man to the floor. His movements were unusually careful, almost gentle — a rare moment of quiet from someone who always had a smirk on his face. Sae approached, each step deliberate, his expression unreadable. The sound of his own breathing filled the silence between them.
Sae knelt beside the corpse, placing a gloved hand against the man’s cooling skin. His fingertips pressed lightly against the chest, though he already knew there was no heartbeat.
He’s dead…
The thought was calm, almost detached. He was in great pain. He must have suffered.
The man’s body told the story — deep gashes, broken bones, fingernails torn. Aiku didn’t say anything; even he knew when to shut up.
Then, a trembling voice cut through the quiet.
“Th-That’s not my brother… My brother was wearing an orange kimono.”
Sae looked up at the little boy standing a few feet away. His face was streaked with dirt and tears. The words hit heavier than they should have. Sae’s eyes flicked back to the body.
So… several people have been captured.
His gaze softened, just for a moment. When I come back… I’ll see you get a proper burial.
He laid the man’s body flat, adjusting the arms neatly before standing. His movements were precise, controlled, like he was performing a task he’d done too many times before. He turned to Aiku, who was watching him with that half-smile again.
“Aiku,” Sae said, his tone flat. “Let’s go.”
Aiku’s smirk deepened slightly. “Right behind you.”
Sae didn’t waste another second. He crouched beside the wooden box he had been carrying — the one with careful engravings on the lid. He placed it on the ground in front of the two children. The box was quiet, but Sae’s eyes lingered on it for a second longer than usual.
Rin was inside.
Daylight filtered through the trees, scattering gold across the dirt. Sae’s jaw tightened. It wasn’t safe to let Rin out — not when the sun was still high. He couldn’t risk it. Not for anything.
He looked down at the two kids, his voice calm but sharp enough to make them focus.
“While I’m gone,” he said, “stay close to this box. It’ll protect you if anything happens.”
The boy and girl nodded shakily, clutching each other’s hands. Sae gave them one last look before turning on his heel, his haori swaying with the motion.
Without another word, he entered the mansion. Aiku followed, his usual easy grin returning the moment they crossed the threshold.
“You’ll protect me, right?” Aiku joked lightly as they walked deeper into the hall. “If anything happens, you’ll protect me.”
Sae didn’t look at him. His tone was cold, almost bored. “I broke my ribs and leg in my last fight, and they haven’t healed yet. So—”
“What?!” Aiku cut in, his voice full of disbelief. “Broken bones? You’re serious? If you’re hurt, then I guess I’m the one who has to protect you now. Damn, Sae — why didn’t you take a break or get treated?”
Sae opened his mouth to answer, but something small and fast interrupted.
Two figures came running toward them — the same children from before, faces pale with panic. The boy pointed behind him, gasping for air.
“Uh… mister! Your box is making scratching noises!”
Sae froze. Then his expression hardened, voice sharp as a blade.
“I said to stay near it. That box holds the thing I value most. More important than my life itself!”
Aiku blinked. The boy opened his mouth to respond — but before he could, the sound echoed again.
Thud.
Thud-thud.
It was faint at first, like a heartbeat buried deep in the walls. Then louder. A drumbeat.
Sae didn’t think — his instincts moved first. He grabbed the little girl, pulling her close to his chest. At the same moment, Aiku snatched the boy by the arm. The air vibrated with the next beat.
BOOM.
The floor seemed to twist beneath them. The walls groaned, the entire mansion shuddering violently. In a blink, Sae and the little girl were ripped away from Aiku and the boy — swallowed by the shifting corridors.
The world spun.
And then — stillness.
Sae landed hard on one knee, still holding the girl in his arms. His grip was firm, protective. She clung to his haori, shaking.
He glanced around. The room was different. Smaller. The floor pattern had changed.
Did we move?
No — his eyes narrowed. The room changed around us… in time with the drum.
The girl’s small voice broke through the silence, trembling. “Wh-where’s my brother?”
Sae hesitated, then — almost awkwardly — placed a hand on her head. His fingers brushed lightly through her hair.
“Sorry to split you up from your brother,” he said, voice low. “But don’t worry. I’ll protect you. And Aiku will protect your brother. It’ll be all right.”
She nodded through her tears. “Miri… My name’s Miri.”
Sae gave a curt nod. “Good. Stay close, Miri.”
But then, something changed in the air.
His nose twitched — a scent thick and vile, crawling into his lungs like rot.
He turned sharply toward the doorway.
A figure stepped out of the shadows — tall, muscular, its skin pale like wax. Three drums were embedded in its body — two on its chest, one on its stomach. The flesh around them was scarred and twisted, as if fused by force.
Sae’s body moved automatically. He set Miri down and stepped in front of her, hand resting lightly on his katana’s hilt.
Of all the smells that cling to this mansion, he thought, this one’s the strongest. This demon has eaten many people. It must be the mansion’s… lord.
The demon’s eyes glowed faintly, lips curling into a sneer. But before it spoke, the scene shifted again.
---
Elsewhere
Aiku stumbled as the walls rearranged themselves, barely keeping his balance while clutching the little boy’s hand.
“Damn—!” He gritted his teeth. “What the hell was that?!”
“Mi-Miri!” the boy cried, struggling in his grip. “Miri!”
“Shh!” Aiku hissed, crouching down so their faces were level. “Don’t be so loud! We’ve gotta get outside, you hear me? She’ll be okay. Sae’s with her.”
The boy’s lip trembled, but he nodded. Aiku squeezed his hand once, then straightened.
They ran.
Every hallway looked the same — sliding doors, paper walls, the faint echo of drums. Aiku yanked one open after another, muttering curses under his breath.
No way. He looked around, bewildered. This was the entryway — but where did outside go?
He tried another door. Nothing. Just another empty room. His frustration grew.
“Maybe this one…”
He pulled another door open — and froze.
A human figure stood inside. Shirtless. Wearing only pants, with a strange wrap of deer hair around his waist and bear fur over his legs like rough socks. And on his head — a boar mask, crude and cracked, with lifeless eyes.
The figure crouched low, muscles coiled like a spring.
Before Aiku could speak, the man launched forward — roaring something unintelligible as he flew past them, tearing through the opposite wall like a beast let loose.
Aiku blinked, completely dumbfounded. “…What the hell was that?”
---
Back with Sae
“Miri,” he said quietly, eyes never leaving the demon. “Try not to scream. The room will move, so don’t go into the hall. Slide back — hide behind the shelves.”
The girl nodded shakily and did as told, crawling toward the back corner. Sae waited until she was out of harm’s way before focusing entirely on his opponent.
The demon was muttering under its breath, pacing like an animal. Its voice was deep, raw with frustration.
“Why?! Why does everyone keep sneaking through my house?! It’s so aggravating. It’s my prey! It’s my prey! Found in my territory! That bastard! Those bastards!”
Sae didn’t move, his hand still on his sword. His tone when he spoke was indifferent, cold as stone.
“I am Itoshi Sae, rank Mizunoto of the Demon Slayer Corps.” His eyes glinted like steel. “And I’m here to kill you.”
The demon snarled, glaring at him. This boy… can’t pull off a surprise attack, it thought, smirking.
“I found children with Marechi — rare blood — but…”
The creature’s words cut off as it slammed its hand against one of the drums on its chest.
BOOM.
The world lurched.
Sae barely braced himself before the entire room spun again — the tatami mats sliding up the wall, the ceiling tilting sideways. Gravity betrayed them.
Miri screamed as she lifted off the floor, spinning through the air. Sae lunged, but the force pulled him back. He watched as she hit the floor — but luckily, she landed safely, only shaken.
The tatami mats are on the wall…? he thought, quickly adjusting his stance. The room rotated. That must be this demon’s Blood Demon Art. The whole mansion is the demon’s territory.
He exhaled through his nose, sharp and short. His muscles tensed.
Then he caught something new — faint but distinct. Another scent, wild and alive. Not human. Not demon.
Another scent… and it’s getting closer.
He turned his head slightly — just in time to hear a thunderous crash above him.
CRACK.
The ceiling shattered into splinters.
And through the dust and debris came a figure — the same one Aiku had seen — bursting into the room mid-leap.
A man with a boar’s head strapped to his face, deer hair wrapped above his pants, and bear fur covering his feet. His body was scarred, lean, powerful. His twin blades glinted as he spun through the air.
“Comin’ through! Comin’ through!” he shouted.
The voice was wild, unrestrained — the kind that didn’t think before acting.
Sae’s eyes narrowed.
The dust settled slowly around them, light from the holes in the ceiling spilling across the ruined tatami.
And then everything went quiet.
---
Dust still floated in the air from the ceiling’s collapse. Sae blinked, steadying his footing as the newcomer landed with a heavy thud that made the tatami tremble.
Who the hell is that? Sae thought, eyes narrowing at the figure. He’s wearing a boar skin… and wielding Nichirin swords.
The strange boy straightened his stance, blades gleaming faintly under the dim light. His bare chest was marked with old cuts and bruises, every muscle wound tight with reckless energy. Then he pointed one sword directly at the demon.
“All right, monster!” the boar-headed boy shouted with absurd enthusiasm. “Come die in battle! I want to get stronger and go even higher—so you’re my stepping stone!”
Sae blinked once, deadpan.
This idiot came here to make speeches?
The demon snarled in fury, its three drums vibrating with a low hum. “Aggravating… so aggravating!” it growled, veins standing out along its neck. It slammed its clawed hand against the topmost drum.
BOOM.
The room twisted violently. The walls spun, the ceiling dropped, the floor rolled like a storm. Sae grabbed onto a wooden beam with one arm and instantly looked toward Miri, who was trying to cling to a nearby cabinet.
“Miri! Hold on to the furniture!” Sae barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Before he could move to secure her, something slammed against his shoulder — a solid weight using him as leverage. His eyes snapped sideways just in time to see a bare foot plant against his side.
The damn boar mask boy had jumped off him.
Sae’s jaw tightened. His ribs flared with pain, his patience snapping like thread.
“You damn boar!” he hissed through his teeth. “The demon has a supernatural ability—stop attacking it so wildly!”
But the boar mask boy didn’t even seem to hear him. He was too busy laughing like a maniac as the room spun again, moving in unpredictable directions. The demon struck another drum, its voice echoing in anger.
“Aggravating! Insects infesting my house!”
The floor tilted again, and Sae caught himself against the wall this time. The air disoriented him for only a second — just enough to hear Miri scream.
He turned sharply. The boar mask idiot had just landed on her.
Her small body was half-crushed beneath his weight for a moment before he jumped off again, laughing as though this entire nightmare were some kind of amusement ride.
“Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! The room spun around! What fun! What fun!”
Miri whimpered, clutching her arm. The sight alone was enough to make Sae’s temper finally crack. He lunged forward, kicking the boar mask boy squarely in the chest. The impact sent him flying backward across the tilted floorboards, hitting the opposite wall hard enough to splinter it.
“Don’t go around stepping on people,” Sae said coldly.
The boy rolled once, then pushed himself upright with a bounce that defied the hit he’d just taken. He tilted his head, the boar mask facing Sae now, twin swords raised again.
“Who are you…?” the boar mask boy asked, voice muffled under the hollow snout.
Sae’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the big idea of stepping on this little girl?” His tone was flat but carried enough venom to slice through the chaos in the room. “You got a death wish or are you just stupid?”
The little girl was sobbing softly now, curled up behind a broken shelf. Sae crouched slightly, placing himself between her and both idiots—the demon and the loud-mouthed stranger.
But instead of apologizing, the boar mask boy started laughing again, doubling over like Sae had just told the best joke in the world.
“Ah ha ha ha ha ha! Good, good! Nice kicking move!” he said between laughs, clutching his stomach. “No one’s ever thrown me before!”
Sae stared at him blankly.
What the hell is wrong with this guy?
The boy’s laughter echoed through the mangled room, the boar head bobbing slightly as he kept chuckling. The demon growled from across the chamber, glaring at the both of them, its claws tapping irritably against the skin of the drums embedded in its flesh.
Sae didn’t move. His sword was drawn halfway, his focus divided between the unstable room and the unpredictable boy.
“Oi,” Sae said coolly. “If you’re done laughing, we have a demon to kill.”
The boar mask turned toward him again, the hollow snout seeming to grin. “You’ve got guts,” he said, voice full of excitement. “I like that. You and me—let’s see who gets its head first!”
Sae gave him a long, unimpressed stare. “…Do whatever you want,” he muttered. His focus shifted back to the demon, hand tightening on his blade’s hilt. His breath steadied, his ribs still aching from before.
Miri whimpered softly behind him. Sae’s ear twitched slightly at the sound — he didn’t look back, but his voice softened just enough to be heard.
“Stay behind me, Miri. Don’t move unless I say.”
She nodded, her small hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the shelf.
The moment the boar mask boy’s laughter faded, his stance shifted. His feet dug into the tatami, and before Sae could blink, he was charging — straight at him.
Sae’s eyes narrowed.
Why the hell is he rushing at me now? Isn’t he in the Demon Slayer Corps?
The boar-headed boy lunged, his twin jagged swords slicing forward with a reckless, wild precision that carried no hesitation — only hunger for movement, for violence.
Sae caught the glint of the steel in his peripheral and reacted instantly. Without a word, he scooped the little girl into his arms and sidestepped, the air slicing open where his body had been a second ago.
The blades cut the air with a low whistle. The boy stopped only long enough to throw his head back and laugh through the mask.
“My swords bring pain!” the boar-masked stranger shouted proudly, voice echoing off the warped walls. “They aren’t like the katana a little boy uses! I’m so proud of their cutting edges — they rip and tear!”
Sae’s jaw clenched. He held the little girl tighter, keeping her head pressed against his chest so she wouldn’t have to look at the chaos. His voice snapped across the room like a whip.
“Stop! There’s a demon over there!”
The boar mask boy’s laughter only grew louder. “What do I care?”
Sae’s patience snapped.
“Idiot,” he muttered under his breath, already shifting his weight as the drum demon roared from the opposite end of the room.
“Insects! Begone! Die!”
The demon’s claws slammed against its stomach drum — the sound thundered through the house. The walls twisted violently, floors flipping. The little girl screamed, clutching Sae’s uniform. Sae’s feet skidded, but he kept balance, his movements controlled even in the chaos.
Then came another slash — not from the demon this time, but from that same damned boar-masked fool. He lunged again toward Sae with a wild grin.
Sae dodged smoothly, expression unreadable, his blade still sheathed. The other boy’s sword missed by inches, but the vibration of air was enough to stir dust off the tatami.
“Good! Good!” the boar mask boy laughed manically. “Ah ha ha ha!”
Sae’s eyes flicked downward, ignoring him entirely. Something about the sound below his feet felt wrong.
The tatami suddenly shredded… in the shape of claws. In time with the drums.
The demon played again — boom, boom, boom — and the room tilted left, then right. Sae’s body moved instinctively with the rhythm, his eyes staying sharp, his breath calm even as Miri whimpered into his haori.
The demon hissed again, the vibration of its voice almost a growl. “Insects! Damned insects!”
Rotate right. Rotate left.
Sae’s sharp mind mapped the rotations as they happened. I’m starting to figure this out.
Another boom echoed — but this time, something else crashed. The boar mask boy’s body flew across the room, slammed against the far wall, and then—vanished—dragged into another hallway as if swallowed by the house itself.
For a moment, the mansion fell eerily silent. Only the echo of Miri’s trembling breaths and the faint drumbeat of Sae’s pulse filled the room.
He blinked once, adjusting his grip on her. The room changed again. But what’s going on? The demon didn’t strike the drum just now.
The smell hit him next — thick, clotted, iron-rich air that clung to his lungs.
This room smells like a bunch of different demons.
He frowned, scanning the floorboards, the walls, the ceiling. Does another demon have a drum too?
But then he stopped.
No. Wait. I smell blood.
He looked down at Miri, her small hand clutching his sleeve. “Stay behind me,” he ordered, voice low but firm.
“O-okay…” she whispered.
He pushed open the door carefully, his hand never leaving the sword’s hilt. The hallway ahead was warped, faintly spinning from the aftershock of the Blood Demon Art. The smell of blood grew thicker with every step, sticky in the air like syrup.
And then he saw it.
A man’s body — or what was left of one. Torn apart from neck to thigh, his torso shredded, his limbs thrown across the tatami in disarray. The air was still wet with it.
Sae’s expression didn’t change, but his stomach turned slightly at the brutality of it. He was devoured… but not completely. That means the demon was interrupted mid-feed.
“Don’t,” Sae said softly, eyes still fixed ahead. “Don’t look at it. It’s all right. There’s no demon. Let’s go somewhere else.” His tone was calm but absolute — the kind of voice that didn’t invite argument. “Don’t look back. Just face straight ahead.”
He guided her by the shoulder, walking steadily past the corpse without flinching. She followed, squeezing her eyes shut like he’d told her.
As they moved down the hall, the smell changed again. The scent of blood — but thinner now, almost faint. This one’s different… smaller… the loss isn’t as much.
He stopped at a door. Carefully, Sae slid it open, ready for another attack.
Inside was a small room — and in the middle of it, a boy. His hands shook violently as he clutched a blood-smeared drum against his chest. His eyes were wide and glassy with fear. And slowly, he reached for the drum’s surface, fingers trembling.
Sae’s eyes narrowed.
That drum… it smells the same as the demon’s. But weaker. Maybe one of its fragments.
He didn’t move yet. The child looked too terrified to even speak.
---
Elsewhere,
Aiku trudged through another hallway, his hand gently wrapped around the wrist of the other child — the older brother, pale and wide-eyed but silent now from exhaustion. The boy’s name was Kiyoshi.
The corridor tilted every few steps, though not as violently as before. Dust drifted down in slow motion from the ceiling. Aiku’s clothes were scratched, his hair messy, but his grin remained stubbornly in place.
“Hey,” Aiku said lightly, giving the boy’s arm a small swing, “you holding up all right, kid?”
Yuto didn’t answer at first. His lower lip trembled. “…I can’t find Miri.”
“I know,” Aiku said, softer this time. “We’ll find her. Sae’s got her, remember? That guy looks mean, but he’s good with kids. Kind of like a grumpy old man.”
The boy gave a tiny sniff. “Is he… really a demon slayer too?”
Aiku chuckled, brushing dirt off the kid’s sleeve. “Yeah. The best kind — the scary, serious type. The kind who pretends not to care but would rather break his ribs than let someone get hurt.”
The child blinked up at him. “You’re friends?”
Aiku tilted his head. “Hmm. I’d call it… forced teamwork.”
Yuto managed the faintest giggle. Aiku smiled at that — even in a house filled with blood and demons, he could still pull a laugh from someone.
“See? You can still laugh. That’s good. Means you’re braver than most adults I’ve met.”
Yuto's small hand tightened around Aiku’s. “You… you’re not scared?”
Aiku raised a brow, pretending to think. “Of course I’m scared,” he admitted easily. “But I’m not letting it stop me. Fear just means you’ve got something you care about, right?”
The boy blinked, then whispered, “I just want to see my sister again.”
“You will,” Aiku said, and for once his voice dropped all its joking tone. “I promise.”
They walked a few steps further before Aiku’s ears caught something — a sound like a wet scrape beneath the floorboards. His grin faded immediately.
“…Hey, kid,” Aiku murmured, pulling him slightly behind. “Stay close.”
The boy frowned. “What’s—”
Before he could finish, a low gurgling sound came from the cracks of the floorboards ahead. The wooden panels creaked, then splintered. Something long and pale slid through — claws first, dragging across the surface like knives.
Aiku’s instincts flared. He pulled the boy back just in time as the floor exploded upward.
From beneath the corridor, a creature emerged — its body crawling out like a centipede made of human parts, arms and faces stitched together, eyes blinking in random places. It hissed, its mouth stretched wide and dripping black saliva.
“Ah, crap…” Aiku muttered, shielding the boy behind him. “Couldn’t it be a small one for once?”
The demon growled, dragging itself forward, its claws scraping deep gouges into the wooden floor.
“Don’t look,” Aiku said quickly, crouching low as he unsheathed his sword. His usual grin was gone now — his expression calm but alert, a flicker of sharpness behind his easygoing eyes. “I said don’t look, okay? Just keep your eyes closed till I tell you.”
The boy obeyed, trembling, hiding his face in Aiku’s sleeve.
Aiku exhaled once, rolling his shoulders. “All right, ugly. Let’s make this quick.”
The corridor groaned under Aiku’s boots, each step echoing softly through the empty mansion. Dust hung in the air like fine ash, swirling in the faint light that leaked from the cracks in the ceiling.
He walked with a casual, confident gait — like someone who’d done this a thousand times before — his hand resting lazily against his sword’s hilt. But under that easy grin, his eyes were razor-sharp, scanning every shadow for movement.
The little boy followed close behind, clutching Aiku’s sleeve with small trembling fingers.
“Keep your eyes close but be aware of your surroundings,” Aiku said, his tone light but steady. “If you see anything that moves — anything — you tell me. Okay?”
The boy nodded nervously. “O-okay…”
“Good.” Aiku flashed him a grin. “You’re my little scout, then. Congratulations, kid. You just got promoted.”
The boy blinked, too confused to smile, but Aiku’s tone at least loosened the fear a little. That was the trick — talk casually, even when death could crawl out from under the floor at any moment. If the boy believed he was safe, maybe Aiku could believe it too.
He drew in a breath, his senses prickling. The air had changed again — thicker now, faintly sour, like something rotten hiding just beneath the wood.
“...Stop,” Aiku murmured, his arm stretching out protectively in front of the boy.
The boy froze.
A low squelch echoed from beneath the tatami. Then — a wet slither.
Aiku tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “There you are…”
The floor split open with a sound like tearing flesh. From the darkness below, a figure crawled out — long, sinewy limbs dragging itself upward. Its body was thin but stretched grotesquely long, skin gray and sticky, its tongue lashing like a whip.
The demon’s voice gurgled as it straightened, its mouth wide enough to split its jaw. “Humans… trespassing… my hall…”
Aiku stepped forward, drawing his blade with one smooth motion. “And what a lovely home you’ve got. Really brings out the murderous energy.”
The demon’s tongue flicked toward him, fast as lightning. Aiku parried it with the side of his blade, sparks flying as the wet muscle struck steel.
He grinned. “Bit rude to attack before introductions.”
He shifted his stance, one foot sliding slightly back — confident, easy, practiced. The boy behind him watched, wide-eyed, as Aiku moved like he was dancing. Every movement was graceful but grounded, his breathing calm.
The demon lunged again, claws first this time, but Aiku pivoted and deflected it effortlessly, his movements clean and deliberate.
It looked effortless — maybe too effortless.
But Aiku’s eyes, sharp as ever, betrayed the faintest flicker of hesitation.
His heartbeat quickened. He’d fought demons before, but this one… this one was strange. The aura it gave off was heavier, more oppressive. His grip tightened on the hilt.
He hesitated — just for a heartbeat — and the demon noticed.
“Scared?” it hissed, its voice crawling under his skin.
“Not yet,” Aiku said with a smirk. “But you can try harder.”
The demon grinned wide. Then the air shifted.
The temperature dropped in an instant. Aiku’s breath came out white.
And then — the demon’s tongue split into five. Each one writhed in the air like snakes before slamming into the walls, the floor, the ceiling — forming sigils that pulsed red.
Aiku’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s new.”
The sigils flared.
Blood Demon Art.
The entire corridor warped, folding in on itself as the red light spread like veins through the wood. The air grew heavy, suffocating.
Suddenly, a sharp pressure slammed into Aiku’s chest — invisible but crushing. He staggered back, his hand instinctively moving to push the boy away from the source.
The demon’s laughter echoed. “Let’s see you laugh now, human!”
Aiku gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright. The world tilted; the walls seemed to pulse like a living creature. His muscles screamed from the force pressing down on him.
Behind him, Yuto clung to the wall, his eyes wet with fear. “Aiku!”
“Stay there!” Aiku shouted, voice strained. “Don’t move!”
The demon slithered closer, its claws dragging grooves in the floor.
Aiku tried to raise his sword — but his arm felt like it weighed a ton. His breathing hitched. Damn it… it’s like the air itself is fighting me.
He looked over his shoulder, his grin returning even through the pain.
“Hey,” he said softly, his tone suddenly calm. “Listen carefully. Leave me. Run away. Save yourself.”
Yuto's eyes went wide. “Wh-what?!”
“I said run.” His voice was firm now, no longer playful. “You’re small. You can slip through the cracks. I’ll distract it.”
Yuto shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. “No! I can’t do that!”
“Don’t argue,” Aiku muttered, his voice lower. “You’ll just—”
The red sigils flared again. The air shuddered — and the next instant, Aiku’s body was thrown violently backward, slammed against the far wall. The impact rattled through him. His vision blurred.
“Aiku!!” Yuto screamed.
Aiku tried to push himself up, but his limbs felt like lead. The demon laughed, its grotesque face hovering inches from him.
“Pathetic human,” it hissed. “So much talk… now look at you.”
Aiku’s fingers twitched. His eyes fluttered. Then—
He stopped moving.
Yuto stared, horrified, as Aiku’s chest rose and fell slowly — too calmly for someone facing death.
“Aiku…?” Yuto whispered, voice trembling. He crawled closer, shaking his shoulder. “Aiku…?”
A faint snore answered him.
Yuto froze. “…He’s… asleep?”
The demon tilted its head, confused. “What’s his problem?!”
Then it laughed, a horrible gurgling laugh. “Bwa ha ha ha! Die!”
Its tongue shot forward again, twisting midair like a spear aimed at the little boy’s chest.
“Waaaah! Aiku, please wake up!” Yuto screamed, eyes squeezed shut.
The sound of air splitting filled the hallway.
A wet thud echoed — the tongue hit the floor, severed cleanly in two.
The demon’s laughter stopped. It looked down — then back up.
Aiku was standing.
His sword arm hung loosely at his side, the blade dripping faintly with black blood. His eyes were half-lidded, the usual playful glint gone — replaced by a calm, focused stillness.
The boy gasped. “Aiku…?”
But Aiku didn’t answer. He inhaled once — slow, deliberate.
Hhhhhhhh—
The breath deepened, steady and rhythmic. The faint crackle of electricity hummed around him, small arcs of yellow light flickering across his shoulders. The air itself seemed to tense.
The demon flinched, instincts screaming. Wh… what’s that sound?
It took a step back. He feels different now!
Aiku’s head tilted slightly, his body lowering into a stance — one hand resting on the sheath, the other gripping the hilt.
The boy could feel the static crawling along his skin. The moment stretched thin, quiet. Even the air held its breath.
Then—
“Serpent Breathing,” Aiku whispered.
The demon’s pupils shrank.
“First Form.”
The sound that followed wasn’t quite thunder — it was faster, sharper, a crack that split the silence apart.
“Winding Serpent Slash!”
For an instant, Aiku vanished. The demon’s eyes darted wildly, searching, its tongue whipping in panic — but there was no time to react.
A single silver line sliced through the air.
The next sound was the shick of a blade sliding clean through flesh.
The demon froze mid-step. Its tongue twitched once. Then its head slid neatly off its shoulders, rolling across the floor before bursting into ash.
Silence.
The boy stood trembling, his hands covering his mouth. His eyes darted to the fallen body, then to Aiku, who stood motionless, sword still extended.
For a long moment, Aiku didn’t move.
Then, finally, he exhaled — a slow, almost casual breath. The lightning flickered out.
He sheathed his blade with a single fluid motion.
Yuto blinked, still processing what had happened. “I-It’s dead…?”
Aiku turned slightly, looking over his shoulder with that familiar lazy grin returning to his face as if nothing had happened.
“It’s dead?” he repeated, feigning confusion. “He just suddenly died?”
Yuto gasped. “Wha— but you— you—!”
Aiku tilted his head, smirking faintly. “Yuto… you didn’t somehow…?”
He looked up at the ceiling as if speaking to someone unseen. “Thank you for killing it. You should’ve told me that you were strong!”
Yuto blinked in disbelief. “B-but… you killed it…”
Aiku stretched his arms lazily, pretending not to hear. “Man, what a workout. Remind me never to nap mid-fight again.”
He glanced down at the boy, who was still trembling. The grin softened just slightly. “Hey. You okay?”
The boy hesitated, then nodded, wiping at his face.
Aiku crouched in front of him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Good job staying put. Most grown men would’ve bolted.”
Yuto was stunned into silence.
His small hands still trembled where they clutched the edge of Aiku’s haori.
He’d seen a real demon — its fangs, its blood, its twisted face. He’d watched Aiku fight faster than his eyes could follow, the sound of lightning tearing through the air still echoing in his skull.
But more than the demon or the swordplay, what confused Yuto most… was Aiku himself.
The man who had been snoring seconds before suddenly stood, cut the demon’s head clean off, and then had the audacity to grin and act like nothing had happened.
Yuto's mind spun.
None of it made sense.
So, he stopped trying to understand.
His thoughts simply shut down, leaving him blank and dazed, staring up at Aiku like a child watching a thunderstorm from beneath a porch roof.
Aiku brushed some dust off his shoulder and looked down at him with his usual lazy smile. “Shall we go?”
Yuto's voice came out small, uncertain. “Yeah…”
And that was that. The two of them continued down the corridor, stepping over ash that had once been a demon, the boy still blinking in quiet disbelief.
---
Oliver Aiku’s strength manifests only when he sleeps.
While awake, he’s almost too self-aware — his confidence so excessive it freezes him in place. His body tenses, his mind overthinks, his muscles seize. But the moment his fear overwhelms him, when his nerves short-circuit and his consciousness slips into the dark, something in him unlocks.
A calm so complete that his breathing deepens, his heartbeat steadies, and his movements become pure instinct — untangled by thought.
In sleep, Oliver Aiku becomes the kind of swordsman who moves faster than reason itself.
---
Elsewhere, chaos reigned in another part of the mansion.
A crash.
The sound of heavy footsteps and splintering wood.
The boar-masked boy thundered down the hall, twin blades glinting with jagged edges. His feet hit the floorboards with a rapid rhythm — the sound of a wild animal trapped in a maze.
“Tsk!” he spat, kicking open a sliding door that led to yet another corridor identical to the last. “I lost him again! Argh!”
His voice echoed through the shifting halls, equal parts frustration and excitement.
“Just when I was about to attack! It’s been like this for three days!” he shouted, turning sharply down another passage, his twin swords scraping against the walls. “Three damn days! I can’t make progress in these cramped halls! I’m no good at this!”
His mask — a boar’s head with empty eyes — glared at the walls as if they were mocking him. His breath came in short, hot bursts.
“Damn this maze! I’ll just tear it down!” he roared, raising his swords.
But just as he moved to strike, something shifted.
A chill.
A whisper of movement behind him.
He didn’t turn — he simply ducked.
A massive hand, claws slick with blood, swept through the air where his head had been, smashing the wall instead. Splinters flew like shrapnel.
The boar-masked boy grinned. “Heh.”
He turned around, eyes shining behind the mask.
The demon before him was huge — a bulbous stomach that quivered with every breath, its skin stretched tight, mottled with red. Blood drenched its mouth and dripped down its chest, soaking into the tatami.
“You dodged!” the fat demon said, a grotesque smile splitting its face. “You’re awfully lively for a human! It’ll be a treat to carve away your flesh!”
The boar boy didn’t flinch. He rolled his shoulders once, blades crossing before him.
Inside the hollow of his mask, he grinned wider. Self-style Beast Breathing, he thought. My way or no way.
Then he spoke aloud, voice sharp with excitement: “The bigger the target, the more rewarding it is to slice it up!”
The demon’s small eyes gleamed. “Ho ho! You’re a bold one to charge at me head-on!”
But the boy was already gone.
Two slashes of steel whistled through the air.
In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the demon’s thick arms fell to the floor with heavy thuds, blood spraying in twin arcs.
The creature screamed, eyes bulging. “Ow!”
The boar-masked boy landed lightly, blades dripping, laughing uncontrollably.
“Ha ha ha ha! Die in battle and be my stepping stone!”
He spun, his wild breathing syncing with the rhythm of his movements.
“Beast Breathing — Third Fang: Devour!”
His swords crossed in a brutal X, cleaving through flesh and bone alike. The demon’s head flew, rolling once before dissolving into ash that scattered across the hall.
The boar-masked boy gave the corpse a contemptuous kick.
“Comin’ through! Comin’ through!” he shouted, as if announcing himself to the entire mansion.
And off he went again — wild laughter echoing down the corridor as he ran to find another fight.
---
Elsewhere still, deep within the heart of the twisting mansion, the drum demon stirred.
The air in his chamber was thick and stale, filled with the smell of old blood. Human bones littered the corners. The drums embedded in his flesh — two on his chest, one on his stomach, and several smaller ones along his back — trembled with every movement, each emitting a faint, ominous hum.
He sat hunched over, breathing heavily, eyes wild.
“Marechi…” he muttered, his fingers twitching against the nearest drum. “Marechi… I must eat more…”
He looked down at the blood-stained tatami before him, where scraps of clothing lay — remnants of his victims.
“Fifty people… a hundred people…” His voice shook with manic hunger. “I just need to find and eat more humans with Marechi… then I can return…”
His gaze drifted to the far wall — cracked and dark, but in his mind’s eye, he saw something else entirely. A memory burned there.
The memory of power.
Once, long ago, one of his eyes bore a mark — the kanji of a number. A symbol of his status.
He had been among the Twelve Kizuki.
A lower moon.
A demon of rank and fear.
But now…
His claws dug into the floor. The mark was gone — crossed out, carved over by the symbol of failure.
A jagged “X” slashed through the place where his number once gleamed.
The humiliation burned hotter than hunger.
He slammed one of his drums in rage — BA-DOOM!
The sound shook the room, rotating it violently. Blood sloshed across the floor.
“Those wretched humans— those insects— they ruined me!” he screamed, the veins on his forehead bulging.
He struck another drum — the walls twisted, the floor turned to ceiling. His fury pulsed through the mansion itself.
“Marechi… Marechi… bring them to me!” he hissed. “I can smell them! That rare, sweet scent… I’ll consume it, devour it, until my name is feared again!”
He pressed his clawed hand against the drum on his stomach. It quivered, glowing faintly.
The rhythm of the drums became erratic, violent — a distorted music of madness.
---
Flashback
As time passed…
The mansion grew quieter. The scent of human blood that once filled the air began to thin, fading into emptiness.
“I’m eating fewer and fewer humans,” the demon thought, sitting slumped in the corner of a room darkened by shadows. The drums embedded in his flesh—once proud and glowing—were dull now, the wood dry and splintered.
“Of course, I eat them whenever I can…” he muttered aloud, voice rasping like torn parchment. “But… I don’t see as many as I used to. That’s why…”
He trailed off. His hunger gnawed deeper than ever, twisting in his gut. It was not the hunger of the body anymore—it was the hunger of fear. Fear of being forgotten.
Then… footsteps echoed down the hall.
Soft. Unhurried. Yet heavy with a presence that made his veins freeze.
A shadow entered through the doorway — tall, graceful, with eyes so sharp they sliced through the gloom.
“Kyogai,” the figure said, his tone calm yet cold. “Why are you looking so thin? Have you lost your appetite?”
The demon stiffened. He recognized that voice instantly. His claws dug into the floor, trembling.
“L… lord.. Iglesias…” he whispered. The blood drained from his face as he turned, seeing the familiar smile—the terrifyingly gentle smile that never reached his eyes.
Bunny stepped closer, his pale hand brushing against one of the drums embedded in Kyogai’s shoulder. “You were one of the Twelve Kizuki once. A proud Lower Moon. You carried my blood.”
His hand tightened suddenly, nails pressing into flesh. “But look at you now.”
Kyogai shook his head quickly, voice rising in desperation. “No… no! I can still— I can still get stronger! Please, just give me a little more time! I can—”
But before he could finish, searing pain exploded through his body.
“Gyaaahhh!” he screamed, clutching his face. His eye—the one that bore his number—burned with unholy fire. Blood poured from it, thick and black, as the number dissolved and was slashed through by an 'X' mark.
“P-please!” Kyogai cried out, falling to his knees. “Just wait a little longer!”
Bunny’s voice remained smooth, almost sympathetic. “No, that’s enough.”
He looked down at Kyogai the way a man might look at a broken instrument. “You’ve shown me your limits. I’m stripping you of your number.”
The words echoed through Kyogai’s mind like the final beat of a dying drum.
The air was still.
Then Bunny turned and left, his figure fading into the corridor’s shadows.
Kyogai collapsed forward, gasping. His trembling hands touched his face, feeling the scar where his rank once glowed. His chest heaved. His drums vibrated faintly, almost whimpering with him.
He stayed that way for a long time — motionless except for the faint trembling of his shoulders.
Finally, his voice broke the silence, low and bitter. “The more I ate… the stronger I could get. When Lord Iglesias saw improvement, I received blood from him. The power of his blood was incredible…”
He closed his eyes, remembering the sensation — the searing, intoxicating energy of demon blood flooding his veins.
“My new strength was incomparable to how I was before,” he whispered. “He recognized me… as one of the Twelve Kizuki.”
His claws tightened until they bled.
“I continued to ravenously eat people. I thought I would continue to grow stronger. I truly believed that.”
His voice cracked, breaking between pride and despair. “But now… even my drums sound hollow.”
---
Somewhere above, the drumbeats rolled faintly, echoing through warped halls.
Miri ran through a corridor, her small feet slapping against the floor. Her voice rang, trembling but loud enough to pierce the eerie silence.
“Kiyoshi!”
Her brother’s head jerked toward the sound. His fingers, which had been resting on a taiko drum embedded in the wall, froze mid-motion.
He almost struck it — instinctively ready to change the room again — but the voice made him stop.
“Miri?” he whispered.
And then, before he could think, she was in his arms.
“Kiyoshi!” she sobbed, her small hands gripping his torn clothes.
Kiyoshi’s throat tightened. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her. “Miri… thank god… you’re safe…”
Tears streamed down both their faces as they clung to each other, their trembling shoulders pressed together.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the fear in Kiyoshi’s chest loosened.
Then he noticed the tall figure standing nearby.
Sae.
The boy's expression was calm, eyes steady, his Nichirin blade resting loosely in his grip.
“Who… who is that?” Kiyoshi asked cautiously.
Sae answered simply, his voice low and even. “I’m Itoshi Sae. I came to defeat the evil demons.”
Kiyoshi exhaled shakily, holding his sister tighter as relief washed through him. His knees almost gave out.
Sae stepped closer, crouching beside them. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a small tin — the salve Snuffy had given him long ago.
He soften a little, just enough to look approachable. “You’re both hurt. Hold still for a second.”
He opened the tin, the scent of herbs mixing with the faint smell of blood and dust.
“My master made this,” Sae said conversationally as he dabbed the cream gently onto Kiyoshi’s arm. “He wears a tengu mask.”
Kiyoshi blinked through his tears. “Tengu? Really?”
Sae nodded. “Really. You wouldn’t think so, but he’s a kind man. Talks too much, though.”
He looked away. The children relaxed, if only slightly.
Once he’d finished tending to them, Sae straightened, slipping the tin back into his belt. His gaze sharpened.
“Can you tell me what happened here?” he asked quietly.
Kiyoshi’s expression darkened. He looked down, his hands trembling.
“A monster kidnapped us…” he whispered. “It was going to eat us. Then another monster came — and they started fighting. Over which of them would get to eat us…”
His voice cracked. Miri pressed her face into his shoulder, shivering.
Sae’s eyes narrowed slightly. “More than one?”
Kiyoshi nodded, his face pale.
“There were three,” he said, voice shaking. “One had a long tongue… one was really fat… and the last one…” He swallowed hard. “He had drums growing out of his body.”
Sae’s jaw tightened. His mind pieced the fragments together quickly.
“Go on.”
“When the fat one hit him, one of the drums fell off,” Kiyoshi continued. “So I grabbed it. When I hit it, the rooms… changed.”
He gestured toward the taiko drum clutched tightly in his hand. “That’s how I survived.”
Sae’s eyes flickered toward the drum. A clever trick — but one that came with its own risks.
“The demon said something about ‘Marechi,’” Sae muttered.
Kiyoshi’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Yes! That’s right. He calls me Marechi!”
Before Sae could respond, a loud kawww! echoed through the room.
Sae blinked, then sighed heavily as a black crow swooped down from a broken beam above.
He muttered under his breath, “How the hell did you even get in here?”
The crow landed dramatically on his shoulder, puffing up its feathers. “Kawww! Marechi means human who has rare blood!”
Kiyoshi and Miri both jumped.
The crow hopped closer, flapping its wings. “Kaw ha ha! Kids! I’m gonna peck your eyes out!”
Sae immediately smacked the bird lightly on the head. “Cut it out.”
The crow cawed indignantly, but Sae glared, and it shut up—mostly.
“What does that mean, ‘rare blood’?” Sae asked.
The crow puffed up its chest again, eager to explain. “Kaww! Humans have many types of blood! Some rare kinds are exquisite to demons—like fine wine to nobles!”
It hopped around in a circle on Sae’s arm. “Eating one human with Marechi blood equals a hundred ordinary ones! A feast fit for a demon!”
The words hung in the air like poison.
Miri whimpered softly, clutching Kiyoshi’s sleeve. Kiyoshi’s grip tightened protectively around her shoulders.
Sae looked at the crow. “Enough.”
But the crow had already spread its wings. “Kaww! Farewell, swordsman! I’ll report your progress!”
And it was gone — fluttering out through a cracked window, its cackling echo fading into the distance.
Sae exhaled through his nose. “Annoying bird.”
Then he froze.
A faint smell — bitter, coppery — drifted through the air. Blood. And behind it… something fouler.
The demon’s scent.
It was close.
Sae’s eyes sharpened, his hand moving automatically to his sword.
“I’m going to leave the room,” he said quietly.
Kiyoshi looked up, alarmed. “What?!”
Sae met his gaze. His tone remained calm, steady — the way a teacher might address frightened children.
“Stay calm,” he said. “I’m going to fight the demon.”
He turned to Miri, kneeling so they were eye-level.
“And you, Miri…” he said gently. “Your brother’s really tired now, so you have to help him. As soon as I leave the room, hit the tsuzumi and move the room — just like Kiyoshi was doing.”
Her eyes widened. “Move… the room?”
“That’s right.” Sae soften faintly. “If you hear anyone trying to open the door, hit the drum again and flee immediately. I promise I’ll come back for you. I’ll follow your scents.”
He rested a hand briefly on her head. “Before I open the door, I’ll say your names. Hang in there just a little longer. Can you do that?”
Kiyoshi and Miri exchanged a glance. Then both nodded, in perfect sync.
Sae nodded once in return. “Good.”
He rose smoothly, his blade whispering as it left its sheath.
And then — he froze.
A presence. Just beyond the door.
A shadow.
A flash of a drum’s glint.
Without hesitation, Sae lunged forward, kicking the door wide open.
“Now!” he shouted.
Kiyoshi struck the drum — DOK!
In an instant, the room spun, the walls shifting, the air twisting. The children vanished, the space they occupied folding away into another part of the mansion.
And Sae’s sword met the demon’s claws in a single, explosive clash.
The drum demon roared in frustration, veins bulging beneath his ashen skin. “Bugs! Hateful insects!” he spat, his claws digging into the tatami floor as he slammed his palm against the drum embedded in his chest. Instantly, the entire room twisted on its axis. Walls became ceiling, floors became walls. Sae’s world spun violently — but he landed cleanly, toes gliding across the shifting tatami like water flowing down a mountain stream.
“You can spin all you want,” Sae murmured, steadying his breath, “but I’ll read every move.”
The demon’s yellow eyes flashed. “Read this!” he snarled, slamming the drum on his left chest, spinning the room left, then immediately the right, reversing the direction. The air cracked with force.
Sae adjusted midair, twisting his body with effortless precision, his feet barely brushing a sliding door before flipping upright again.
His gaze followed the demon’s hands.
Right shoulder drum — rotates right. Left drum — rotates left.
He caught the pattern.
Right leg — forward rotation. Left leg — backward. Stomach drum — claw attack.
Every hit, every motion, had rhythm — a predictable beat.
Just like Snuffy’s lessons.
Still, pain lanced through his ribs with every movement.
He winced, feeling the burn of reopened wounds under his uniform. His breathing faltered for a heartbeat.
Nanase treated my injuries, but I’m not fully healed…
The memory flickered across his mind — Nanase’s careful hands wrapping his ribs in soft bandages, Hiori watching silently with a furrowed brow, and Rin sitting cross-legged nearby, toying with leftover bandages like a kitten.
In this condition… every step hurts. Even pulling Aiku away earlier sent pain shooting through my bones.
But I’m used to pain. I’ve had to be.
A faint grimace crossed his lips as the demon spun the room again. Sae rode the turn, his knees bending fluidly with the motion.
I’m the eldest. I learned to bear everything.
If I were the youngest… maybe I could afford to be weak.
He remembered Aiku’s smug grin beside him on the road — too confident, too loud, always pushing him to respond.
Even now, that idiot’s voice echoed in his head.
“A broken Sae won’t do!”
The demon’s claws lashed out — slicing air where Sae had just been. Tatami shredded. Wooden beams cracked.
Sae landed light, breath steady. He could taste iron on his tongue, the ache of his wounds screaming for him to stop. But he wouldn’t.
He recalled Snuffy’s voice again — calm, heavy like the ocean.
Water can take any form. It is square in a box and round in a bottle. But it can break rocks, and flow anywhere.
Sae exhaled deeply.
That’s right. Water adapts. It bends, but never breaks.
He crouched slightly, one hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.
There are ten forms of Water Breathing. Ten ways to fight. If my bones can’t bear the strain, then I’ll flow around the pain.
The water never stops. Neither will I.
The demon slammed his drums again, spinning the room so violently that even the walls seemed to scream. But Sae flowed with it, body moving like ripples — never fighting the current, only gliding through it.
But it’s not just my body that’s cracked.
My spirit… it’s frayed too.
He could see flashes of the past — his failures, the loneliness of standing ahead of everyone yet feeling left behind. Then Rin’s calm, steady eyes surfaced in his mind.
Do it for Rin.
The room spun wildly, every drumbeat cracking through the air like thunder. Dust, splinters, and fragments of paper spiraled through the chaos. Sae gritted his teeth as he twisted midair, his sword catching glimmers of flickering lantern light. The floor had become the ceiling, the walls flipped again, and his sense of direction was dissolving.
Sae’s thoughts raced between breaths:
I can do this. I know I can.
Broken bones or not—I can still fight.
But the basic situation hasn’t changed… motivation alone won’t do the trick.
My head—use my head! But there’s no time to think things through—
The next beat came faster than before.
A violent spin hurled him toward the ceiling.
“That was close!” he hissed through clenched teeth, twisting just in time to plant his foot against a wall.
The drum demon’s laughter echoed, rough and grating. “How long will you crawl, little insect? You’ll never reach me!”
The rhythm of the drums changed — not just faster, but wilder, syncopated and uneven. The pace wasn’t simply rhythm anymore — it was rage.
Sae braced himself, sweat dripping down his jawline, his ribs screaming in protest. But even as he moved, his focus fractured for an instant — his eyes narrowing as the demon’s claws slashed toward him, sending another gust of air like a blade.
Then the demon froze, its pupils dilating, its breathing ragged — trapped momentarily in a hallucination of its own making.
---
Inside the Demon’s Mind — Nightmare, Not Memory
The demon saw a man standing above him, dressed in fine robes, his shadow long and cold. A pile of papers — hundreds of them — were scattered on the floor.
The man sneered, holding up a sheet between two fingers as if it were filth. “Boring. It’s all boring. Everything you write is garbage.”
He threw the paper down, the sheets fluttering across the tatami like fallen leaves.
“No beauty. No value. No greatness. You’re wasting paper and ink.”
The demon — once a man — knelt silently, trembling. His ink-stained hands clutched his knees.
“You should give up on writing.” The man’s voice was cold, cruelly steady. “You never go outside during the day anymore. You’ve turned into a shut-in. You’re dull. You’re worthless.”
He turned his back, stepping on the pages as he walked away. Each step crushed words that the demon had once written with trembling pride.
“You like the tsuzumi, don’t you?” the man mocked as he reached the door. “Then play it — but only in the house. Even in that, you’re not good enough to share it with others.”
The door slid open. Light poured in. The man didn’t look back.
Behind him, something snapped.
The writer’s trembling fingers reached for the tsuzumi drum lying beside him. He struck it once — a dull, heavy sound that vibrated through the air. Then again.
The man turned, frowning — just as three lines of crimson appeared across his torso. His body split apart, collapsing in silent, graceful pieces.
The drum demon sat there, breathing heavily, eyes wide with horror and release. His trembling stopped. His heartbeat steadied.
And from that moment onward, his nightmares were painted in blood and rhythm.
---
“Begone, insects!” the drum demon roared, shaking itself from the hallucination. The drums thundered faster than ever, each beat sharp enough to rattle Sae’s bones.
Sae’s breath hitched as the room rotated at a blinding pace, the world spinning so violently that his vision blurred.
Tempo increasing… can he drum even faster?!
He tried to gauge the motion, but it was nearly impossible — the rotations were random now, unpredictable.
My eyes… they’re spinning.
The speed of this rotation—he went from three claw attacks… to five!
The next moment, Sae’s jaw burned — a shallow cut opened across his cheek, blood trickling down. He’d dodged, but barely.
“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, landing against a vertical beam before the world rotated again.
That was when he saw them — papers scattered all over the floor. Yellowed, dusty, some torn and brittle. Ink stains bled across them, ancient calligraphy warped and smudged.
Sae’s eyes flicked across them in midair. He noticed his own body instinctively avoiding them as he landed.
Paper… there’s something on it.
The moment his feet touched down, he felt it — a pattern. A rhythm. His movement had aligned with something natural, flowing.
The demon hit another drum — but Sae was already moving again, this time deliberately avoiding every sheet.
Avoiding the paper when I dodged showed me… how to move without pain.
How to breathe again.
He inhaled through his nose, slow and steady.
Exhaled sharply, synchronizing with each dodge.
If I breathe this way… it strengthens the muscles I need to move my injured legs.
And before each claw attack… there’s that smell.
He caught it now — faint but sharp. The scent of mold.
His eyes narrowed.
There it is. The signal. Every time before he slashes.
The scent grew stronger —
Here comes… the claw attack—above me!
Sae flipped backward, narrowly avoiding a set of invisible claws that split the air where his head had been. The rotation followed immediately — but he was ready.
“Water Breathing — Ninth Form: Splashing Water Flow, Turbulent!”
His blade sliced the air as his movements turned fluid, adapting perfectly to the chaos. His body twisted through each rotation, his balance flawless even in the madness.
The drum demon’s eyes widened, his rhythm faltering for the first time.
He’s dodging… all my attacks?! How—how can he keep up?!
Sae’s thoughts sharpened into a singular focus.
Go inside. Almost there.
Forward. Get close to his torso.
Of all movements… the Ninth Form minimizes landing time and movement waste.
Perfect for this unstable ground.
He was closing in now — each motion precise, graceful. The demon’s claws slashed again, shredding walls, but Sae slipped through like a flowing stream.
He could feel the rhythm — not just the sound, but the flow of it. The world’s violent spinning had turned into a dance.
Sae’s body arced midair — his head below, his body above, the world upside-down around him. The demon loomed before him, fangs bared, eyes wide with fear and hatred.
And then —
he saw it.
The thread.
A faint, gleaming line connecting the demon’s neck to his blade — the opening thread of death.
Sae’s breathing steadied one last time.
There it is. The opening thread.
He whispered softly, his tone calm, almost respectful:
“Your Blood Demon Art was incredible.”
Then, in a blur of motion — he swung.
The blade cut through the thread — through flesh, through rhythm, through rage — and the demon’s head flew free, spinning in slow motion before hitting the wall with a dull thud.
The body staggered, collapsing backward.
Sae hit the ground a second later, his knees buckling. His sword clattered beside him. For a moment, the world tilted, but he caught himself with one trembling arm and sank slowly down onto his back.
Hah—took too deep a breath.
He laid still, chest rising and falling unevenly. Sweat trickled down his temple. His hand moved to his ribs, feeling the ache.
I’m a nii-chan.
That’s what I am.
He turned his head slightly, glancing at the demon’s severed head, which still hadn’t fully disintegrated. Its lips twitched faintly, as if it wanted to speak.
Sae’s breathing was heavy, his pulse a steady drum inside his ears. The last echoes of battle faded, leaving behind only the faint crackle of dust settling in the ruined room. He kept his sword lowered but ready, eyes still sharp as he turned toward the dying demon.
The drum demon’s head lay on the tatami, its expression twisted with exhaustion and confusion. The light of its life flickered, dimming by the second. Yet, even in its fading form, the demon forced out a rasped, wavering voice.
“Boy… tell me…” it croaked, its claw trembling weakly against the blood-stained floor. “Was my… blood demon art… truly that good?”
Sae, silent for a long moment, finally nodded. His face remained calm and unreadable, his tone steady and cold — but not cruel.
“It absolutely was,” he said evenly. “But… I cannot allow the death of innocent humans.”
The demon’s fading eyes softened — there was no fury now, only acceptance. “I thought so…” it murmured, voice barely a whisper. The edges of its form were already breaking apart, flakes of its body crumbling like ash.
Sae reached into his uniform and pulled out a small metal syringe-like device. The handle gleamed faintly with inscriptions that glowed blue in the dim light. He gave it a slight shake, the needle clicking softly as its inner mechanisms aligned.
He crouched beside the demon’s body. “Forgive me,” he muttered quietly, more to the silence than to the demon. Then he pressed the needle into the demon’s neck.
The instrument whirred faintly. Thin veins of red light pulsed along its handle. The barrel began to fill slowly — drop by drop — with the demon’s blood.
Sae’s thoughts steadied as he watched it.
It’s drawing blood. Just stick it in, and it automatically draws.
If Hiori can make such an item… he’s more skilled than I thought.
He waited until the chamber filled completely. The handle glowed faintly before sealing itself with a soft click. He exhaled and pulled the needle free. The blood shimmered faintly within, swirling like liquid fire.
Then — a soft sound echoed through the quiet room.
“Meow.”
Sae turned slightly, eyes narrowing — and there it was. A small cat, its fur immaculate and eyes bright, materialized out of thin air. The creature’s tiny bell jingled faintly as it stepped forward, tail curling neatly around its paws.
He recognized it instantly. Nanase’s familiar.
The cat meowed again, this time louder, its form becoming faint — translucent. Hiori’s spell worked flawlessly. When it meowed, it appeared. When it meowed again, it would vanish.
Sae crouched and gently tucked the blood-filled needle into the miniature backpack strapped to the cat’s side. “Take it to Nanase for me,” he said quietly.
The cat blinked once, as if acknowledging the order. It meowed again — and its form shimmered before disappearing completely, leaving behind only the faint rustle of air.
Sae stood and looked down at the demon one last time.
The demon’s eyes fluttered. Its final thoughts drifted, soft and mournful.
My writing… it isn’t garbage.
At the very least, the boy valued it… enough that he wouldn’t step on it.
My blood demon art… my drumming… he admired them. He admired… me.
Its mouth twitched into a faint smile before the last fragments of its body turned to dust and scattered. The room grew still.
Sae sheathed his sword and sighed quietly, his hand brushing against his ribs as pain rippled through him again. “Rest,” he muttered to no one in particular, then turned toward the exit.
He followed the scent — faint traces of the children’s presence carried through the halls. His footsteps were soft but steady, despite the stiffness of his wounds. Every rotation of his breath echoed against the hollow corridors until he reached a narrow sliding door.
He could hear frightened whispers on the other side.
Slowly, Sae slid the door open. “Kiyoshi. Miri.”
The instant his voice broke through, a barrage of random objects came flying his way — paper weights, wooden blocks, even a small pot. He barely had time to tilt his head, dodge, and step back. Despite the pain that flared through his side, his movements remained swift and precise.
“Stop throwing things,” he muttered, irritation flickering briefly in his eyes.
The two children froze. Kiyoshi’s eyes widened, realization dawning. “S-Sae?! Sorry! The tsuzumi disappeared, so we panicked!”
Sae exhaled through his nose, brushing dust from his shoulder. His glare softened slightly. “Next time, make sure you’re actually throwing at a demon.”
Miri clung to her brother’s sleeve, trembling. Kiyoshi, despite exhaustion, managed a nervous smile. “We… we thought it was coming back.”
“Understandable,” Sae said shortly. Then, noticing Kiyoshi struggling to move, he knelt in front of him. “Get on.”
Kiyoshi blinked in surprise. “W-what?”
Sae didn’t repeat himself. “You can’t walk properly. So get on.”
Kiyoshi hesitated for only a moment before obeying. He wrapped his arms weakly around Sae’s shoulders, resting his chin near the older boy’s shoulder. Miri followed close behind, gripping Sae’s haori sleeve as they started walking.
Sae’s steps were careful — he adjusted his breathing to suppress the sharp pain shooting from his ribs.
“I smell Aiku and Itsuki,” he said after a while. “They’re outside. Both safe and—”
He winced mid-sentence, pressing a hand briefly to his side. “—ugh.”
Kiyoshi’s voice came out small, worried. “Are you okay?”
Sae gave a small shrug. “I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t. His body felt heavy, his muscles stiff. The fractures from earlier battles screamed with every step. Still, he pressed forward, focusing on the scents ahead — the smell of blood, dirt, and… Aiku’s faint cologne.
When they finally reached the exit, daylight hit Sae’s face. He narrowed his eyes, adjusting to the brightness. But the moment his vision cleared, his body went rigid.
In the clearing outside the mansion, a brutal sight unfolded.
The boar mask boy was standing atop someone — his foot pressing down hard on Aiku’s stomach, pinning him to the ground. His wild twin blades gleamed under the sun, and his laughter carried through the air.
“Draw your swords and fight, you coward!” the boar mask boy shouted. “If you don’t, I’ll crush you flat!”
Aiku, bloodied and bruised, didn’t move. His breathing was shallow. His knuckles were white as he clutched a wooden box tightly against his chest — Sae’s box. The box that held Rin.
Despite being stomped on again, Aiku refused to let go.
The boar mask boy growled in frustration, lifting his foot and slamming it down again. “Fight back!”
Aiku coughed roughly, blood splattering onto the dirt. Still, he smiled weakly. “Sae…” he muttered, voice hoarse and broken.
Sae’s eyes darkened, his steps quickening.
Aiku continued, words spilling out in gasps. “I… protected this.” His hand tightened around the box even as the boar mask boy kicked him again. “Because you said… it was more important… than your own life.”
From a distance, Yuto sobbed, covering his mouth with his hands. “Aiku!”
But Aiku didn’t hear him. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, yet his grip on the box didn’t loosen. His entire body was battered — bruises lining his arms and chest, blood running down the side of his face — but he refused to let go.
Sae’s calm expression finally cracked. His jaw clenched, eyes sharpening to a razor edge.
---
The wind whispered faintly through the broken trees surrounding the mansion. The world still trembling from the aftermath of the battle inside. Shattered tiles, bloodstained soil, and faint smoke from the demon’s fading energy drifted in the cold air.
Aiku lay sprawled across the damp grass, his eyes half-open as he stared up at the sky. His chest rose and fell unevenly, but he was alive. The pounding of his heart was slow, steady — the sound of someone who had narrowly escaped death. His fingers twitched, brushing against the soft earth beneath him as he tried to gather his thoughts.
I've always… had very good hearing, he thought faintly, his inner voice quiet but clear against the ringing in his ears. People thought it was creepy that I knew what they'd said while I was asleep.
A faint smile tugged at his lips despite the dull pain in his skull. They’d whisper behind my back — say things they thought I couldn’t hear. But I always did. Always.
He blinked slowly, focusing on the sky — endless, dark, and still. Somewhere behind him, the mansion groaned as if finally surrendering to gravity.
Then, amidst the fading silence, his sharp ears picked up the faintest traces of sound: footsteps, slow and deliberate. Sae… he thought immediately, recognizing that calm, measured pace. He must have won.
The demon’s thunderous heartbeat — that heavy, bestial rhythm — was gone. All that remained were the quiet rustles of the forest, and another noise, faint but distinct: strange, noisy footfalls, quick and erratic, like someone running barefoot over gravel.
Before he could turn toward the sound, a voice cried out — shaky, high-pitched, and frightened.
"Aiku!"
He turned his head slightly and saw Yuto stumbling toward him, eyes wide, tears glimmering under the moonlight. The younger boy dropped to his knees beside him, breathing hard.
"Aiku! Are you all right?" Yuto gasped, his hands hovering uncertainly over Aiku’s shoulders, afraid to move him too roughly. "The force from the rooms changing tossed you outside! You fell from the second-floor window!"
Aiku blinked at him, processing the words slowly. He lifted one hand to his forehead, feeling the stickiness there — warm, wet. He pulled his fingers back into his line of sight and frowned when he saw the blood glistening between them.
Then, surprisingly, he chuckled.
"You protected me, so I’m fine," he said, his voice quiet but teasing despite his injuries. "But… that’s good. Why are you crying?"
Yuto sniffled, shaking his head violently, tears spilling over. "You—you’re bleeding!"
Aiku looked at his hand again, tilting it in the faint light, the crimson reflecting faintly. He blinked, the realization dawning late.
"Wait," he said dumbly. "Did I fall on my head?!"
"Yes!" Yuto wailed, as if it were the most obvious and tragic thing in the world.
Before Aiku could respond, a loud crash! thundered through the clearing — the mansion’s front doors exploding outward in a storm of splinters and dust.
"Boar rush! Boar rush!" a deep, savage voice shouted, echoing through the forest.
Both Aiku and Yuto froze.
The figure that emerged from the wreckage was wild — a young man, shirtless, muscles taut under the moonlight, dual Nichirin blades strapped to his sides, and a massive boar’s head mask covering his face.
"Ah ha ha ha ha ha!" the stranger bellowed with manic glee, spinning his blades. "I sense a demon!"
Aiku’s eyes widened in recognition, his memories flashing back to the final selection exam.
That voice… I remember that voice.
He pushed himself up onto his elbows, wincing. That’s the fifth survivor! He was the first to climb the mountain… and the first to descend. He’s a real hothead!
The boar-masked boy’s wild eyes darted across the clearing — until they locked onto something behind Aiku.
The wooden box.
The box that held Rin.
"Aha!" he shouted, grinning fiercely beneath the mask. "I’ve found it!"
In an instant, Aiku’s body moved before his mind caught up. He rolled, planting himself between the box and the approaching figure, his arms outstretched protectively.
"Stop!" he barked. "I won’t let you touch this box!"
The boar-masked boy froze, tilting his head. The silence that followed was tense — then shattered by his booming laugh.
"Hey, hey, hey… what’re you saying?!" he said, his tone incredulous, almost mocking. "There’s a demon in there! Don’t you know that?!"
"Of course!" Aiku snapped back, his voice firm, unwavering.
Yuto flinched beside him, looking between the two in shock, but Aiku didn’t move. His eyes were steady, the moonlight reflecting the fierce determination in them.
I knew he was with a demon, Aiku thought, feeling his pulse quicken. Demons and humans make completely different sounds.
For a moment, he could hear it again in his mind — the quiet rhythm of Sae’s breathing, calm yet burdened, and another gentler sound, the steady pulse from the wooden box.
But… Sae was making another sound. A sound like he was on the verge of tears.
He could almost see it now — Sae walking ahead of him through the mist, the wooden box strapped across his back. His indifference was the same as always, but underneath that stillness, there was something else. Something quiet, fragile.
In all my life, I’ve never heard a sound that was… so full of kindness.
Living things made countless sounds — the rustle of lungs expanding, the tremor of blood flowing, the soft whisper of the heart. He’d always listened carefully. Those sounds told him things words never could.
But people can deceive me.
The thought burned bitterly in his mind as faint images flickered — three faces of girls from his past, smirking, whispering lies. They’d told him sweet words, but their hearts had sounded hollow. Empty.
I’ve always trusted people that I want to trust.
But Sae was different. Sae never lied, not even with his silence.
Sae is in the Demon Slayer Corps, but he’s with a demon. There must be a reason for that.
He glanced back at the box, its dark wood glinting faintly.
I trust that it’s a worthwhile reason.
He turned back to face the boar-masked slayer, standing tall despite his wounds.
"And I plan," Aiku said slowly, voice unwavering, "to ask Sae about it directly."
He took a deep breath.
"Until then… you better back off!"
He crouched low, wrapping his arms protectively around the box, his body a human shield.
The boar-masked boy paused, his blades twitching at his sides, his animalistic breathing audible through the mask. Then he threw back his head and laughed — loud, mocking, wild.
"Fool!" he shouted. "You talk tough, but you didn’t even draw your blade! If you’re in the Demon Slayer Corps too… then show me how you fight!"
Before Aiku could respond, the boy lunged forward, the ground cracking beneath his bare feet. His kick connected squarely with Aiku’s chest, sending him sprawling backward.
The impact rattled through his ribs, pain shooting across his torso — but even as he fell, even as the air burst from his lungs, his hands never left the box.
He hit the ground hard, coughing, the taste of iron filling his mouth.
But his grip didn’t falter. Not even for a heartbeat.
He clutched the wooden box tighter, curling his body around it as if his life depended on it — because it did.
The boar-masked slayer towered above him, blades glinting, his laughter echoing through the night.
"Come on!" he roared. "Get up, coward!"
Aiku’s breathing was ragged, his vision blurred. But his thoughts were sharp.
Sae… I kept my word.
He smiled faintly through the pain.
Because you said it was more important than your own life.
His fingers tightened on the box.
No matter what, he wasn’t letting go.
And under the pale glow of the moon, as chaos swirled around them, Aiku stayed there — bruised, bleeding, unyielding — the sound of his heart steady and true, like a drum that refused to stop beating.
For Sae.
For trust.
For the fragile promise between human and demon.
---
The moment Sae arrived, the air shifted. The scent of blood was still heavy — metallic, raw — mixing with the damp earth. The forest was quiet except for the ragged breathing of the survivors and the soft hum of cicadas waking with the dawn.
Sae’s sharp gaze immediately locked onto the sight before him — Aiku, lying sprawled on the ground, arms wrapped tightly around the wooden box, shielding it as if it were a precious life itself. His body was tense, his shoulders trembling slightly from the weight of exhaustion, but his grip did not falter. His breathing came out uneven, his head still bleeding faintly from the earlier fall.
For a split second, Sae’s world froze. The image burned through his mind — Rin, lying motionless in the snow years ago, blood soaking through his kimono, his cold hands still clutching onto something that mattered more than his own life. That same sight — that stubborn, selfless act of protection — flashed like lightning through Sae’s memory, and it ignited something deep within him.
That unhealed fury. That pain that still twisted his chest every time he thought about that night.
His jaw clenched tightly as his eyes hardened.
The boar-mask boy stood before Aiku, his sword gleaming in the faint sunlight filtering through the broken mansion windows. The serrated edge of the blade trembled slightly in the boy’s grip, not from hesitation but from excitement — a predator’s thrill before the strike. His body was low, muscles coiled like a beast ready to pounce.
“I’ll skewer you along with that box!” the boar mask boy roared, voice raw, wild, unrestrained — filled with a kind of reckless energy that felt almost feral.
The sound cut through the air like thunder.
Before anyone could move, Sae’s body reacted on instinct. His foot slammed into the ground, propelling him forward with blinding speed. The wind split around him. In the next instant, his leg collided with the boar-mask boy’s chest, sending him flying backward into the dirt. The impact cracked like a whip.
The boy’s ribs gave a faint snap.
Aiku’s wide eyes followed the motion — the shock too sudden to process. The box in his arms trembled, but he did not let go.
Sae landed between them, his expression sharp and furious. His usually calm face twisted into something rarely seen — real, unrestrained anger. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath visible in the morning chill. His voice thundered across the clearing
“AREN’T YOU IN THE DEMON SLAYER CORPS?!”
The words echoed. The forest seemed to go silent for a moment. Even the crows stopped calling.
Aiku blinked, still holding the box tightly. His ribs ached, but his mind kept running, trying to piece everything together. He just… broke his rib! he realized, feeling the weight of Sae’s power even from the ground.
Sae took a step forward, glaring down at the fallen boy who was now struggling to get up, coughing violently. His voice grew louder, harsher — each syllable struck like steel.
“Don’t you understand why Aiku hasn’t drawn his sword?” he barked. “A Demon Slayer Corps member can only draw their weapon for combat! Do you really get into deadly fights just for fun?! Are you… really such a coward?!”
Aiku winced as the intensity of Sae’s anger rippled through the air. Even in pain, he could feel it — Sae wasn’t shouting because of pride. He was shouting because this situation was dragging him back to something personal, something that hurt.
The boar-mask boy, however, didn’t seem to care.
Still lying on the ground, he coughed once, twice — then began to laugh. It started as a wheeze, but quickly grew into a manic, booming cackle that filled the forest. “Ah-ha-ha-ha! Is that your problem?” he said, voice dripping with excitement instead of pain. “Fine! We’ll fight barehanded then!”
Sae narrowed his eyes.
The boy sprang to his feet in one wild motion, moving like an untamed animal. His mask — crude and scarred, shaped like a snarling boar — glinted under the light. His chest heaved, blood trickling from his mouth, yet his grin was wide behind the tusks.
“It’s wrong for members of the Corps to fight each other at all!” Sae snapped again, his tone cold but tinged with disbelief. “It doesn’t matter if it’s barehanded!”
But the boar-mask boy didn’t listen.
He lunged.
His movements were unlike anything Sae had ever seen — inverted, unpredictable. He threw himself forward with his head nearly scraping the ground, his feet whipping through the air in a wild arc. His body twisted mid-motion, and for a heartbeat, he looked more beast than man — as if instincts, not reason, guided his limbs.
Sae dodged easily, his reflexes honed through endless battles, but even then, he felt the wind of the strike rush past his cheek.
Aiku, watching while clutching the wooden box protectively, could barely comprehend it. Yuto was beside him, crying quietly — fear, relief, and confusion mixing all at once.
Aiku thought, Whoa! What kind of move was that? Even after Sae broke his rib…! He hesitated, glancing toward Sae. And now… hasn’t Sae broken the code too? He broke that kid’s rib!
The thought barely formed before Sae was already analyzing the strange boy’s technique. His sharp eyes traced every movement, every bend of the spine.
His attacks are usually low, Sae realized. This is just like… just like fighting a four-legged beast.
The boar-mask boy dropped to all fours, his hands pressed against the dirt, muscles shifting under his skin like coiled ropes. His breathing was heavy, but his grin widened beneath the mask.
Sae bent lower, shifting his center of gravity. Aim low, he thought. Even lower than he is…
The boy suddenly flipped, spinning his legs in the air again — his movements fluid yet erratic, impossible to predict. His joints moved too freely, almost unnaturally, the way his body folded backward and sprang forward like an elastic spring.
But even then, one of his kicks managed to connect.
Sae staggered slightly, feeling the hit slam into his side. Pain rippled through his ribs, but his stance didn’t falter. The boy straightened, laughing manically.
“Ain’t I awesome?! Ain’t I awesome?!” he shouted — twice, just to make sure everyone heard.
Aiku, despite the chaos, thought faintly, He said it twice. Praising himself.
Behind them, Kiyoshi, Yuto, and Miri. Their faces were pale, eyes red from crying, but relief flooded them as they reunited. They ran toward Aiku, who shielded them instinctively with his arm while keeping the box pressed against his chest.
Meanwhile, the boar-mask boy was laughing even harder now — an unhinged sound that echoed off the trees. His body twisted again, grotesquely flexible. He bent backward until his spine arched so far that his hands gripped his own ankles, his head nearly touching his legs. His body formed a sharp, unnatural curve, like a drawn bow ready to snap.
Sae glared, unamused. “You’ve got cracked ribs,” he said flatly. “You’ll make it worse.”
The boy lunged again, wild eyes flashing from behind the boar mask. “Then it’ll be worse! All that matters is the pleasure of this moment!”
That sentence broke Sae’s patience.
He moved faster than anyone could blink. The two collided — not with swords, but with pure will.
Then came the crack.
Sae’s forehead slammed against the boar-mask boy’s skull in a brutal, bone-shaking headbutt. The impact echoed like a thunderclap.
Aiku gasped. “Did Sae split his skull?!” he shouted, unable to believe what he just witnessed.
The boar mask shattered down the middle, splitting open and falling to the ground in pieces. Dust rose from the impact, swirling in the morning light.
When the air finally cleared, the face beneath the mask was revealed.
Blonde hair — streaked with faint pink at the tips — tumbled down in messy strands, glinting faintly in the sun. His skin was tanned, roughened by training and battle, but what stood out most was the manic spark in his eyes. His grin was wide, showing a row of sharp teeth, and though his face was undeniably youthful, something wild and dangerous still lingered in his expression.
He looked completely different from what Aiku had imagined.
The boy blinked once, tilting his head. “What? You got a problem with my face?”
Silence.
Aiku stared in silence, blinking slowly as the dust settled and the tension hung heavy in the air. His breathing was shallow, his arms still curled protectively around the wooden box pressed to his chest. Behind him, the three children huddled close, their eyes wide and unsure — glancing between Sae, who stood like a stone pillar, and the strange boy who’d just had his mask shattered.
The blonde boy stood there, chest rising and falling sharply, his messy hair shining faintly under the sunlight filtering through the broken canopy. He was built strong — broad shoulders, a defined chest, solid muscle. Everything about him screamed “fighter,” and yet his face…
Aiku thought: What a strange guy… He’s all buff, so I thought he’d have a more masculine face.
He couldn’t help but stare a bit longer. The boy’s sharp, wild eyes had an odd gleam — something between pride and chaos. He looked more like someone who lived by instinct than logic, more beast than man. The boar mask fragments scattered near his feet like broken tusks, and for a moment, the absurdity of it all nearly made Aiku forget how tense things had been just moments before.
Aiku adjusted his grip on the wooden box, tightening it slightly. The weight was familiar now, and he could feel the faint vibration from inside — quiet, steady, alive. He positioned himself between the children and the two older boys, ready to shield them again if anything went wrong.
Then, cutting through the silence, Sae spoke — his voice low, sharp, unbothered.
“I have no problem with your fuckass face.”
It was blunt, cold, and so casually delivered that Aiku almost choked.
The boy’s expression twisted instantly into outrage, his brows furrowing, his lips curling into a snarl. “I’ll kill you!! Bring it on!”
Sae didn’t even flinch. His arms crossed loosely over his chest as he stared back at the boy with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. His tone was flat, dismissive. “I won’t fight with you more, idiot. You’re wasting my time.”
But the boy either didn’t hear or refused to. His body shook with restless energy, the tension of someone who needed to fight just to breathe. His eyes glimmered like a challenge was the only thing keeping him alive.
“Headbutt me one more time!” he shouted, voice echoing through the quiet woods.
Sae’s eye twitched. His patience, already worn thin, stretched to its limit. He simply glared at the boy — a silent, sharp look that said more than words could. His stare was icy, piercing, a quiet kind of fury that made even the air feel heavier.
The boy didn’t seem to care. Instead, he jabbed a thumb at himself proudly, grinning. “Listen, forehead dude, I’ll tell you who I am! My name is Shidou Ryusei! Remember it!”
Aiku blinked, baffled. Forehead dude? He didn’t know whether to laugh or to hide.
Sae, clearly unimpressed, raised a brow. His tone was dry, edged with mild contempt. “How do you write that?”
Shidou froze, confused for a moment, before bursting out in a laugh. “Write?! I can’t read or write!” he said proudly, as if it were something to boast about. “My name is written on my waistband though…”
His words trailed off suddenly. His body stiffened mid-sentence. His eyes went blank for half a second, and his whole posture froze like a statue.
Aiku frowned slightly. He turned toward Yuto, who was still kneeling beside him. “He stopped…” Yuto whispered, his small voice trembling.
Then, before anyone could react, Shidou swayed — once, twice — and fell backward with a heavy thud, dust kicking up around him.
His limbs sprawled out awkwardly on the dirt. His jaw hung open slightly, foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth.
Aiku blinked in horror. “Is he dead? Is he dead?”
The panic in his voice made the children flinch.
Sae didn’t move from where he stood. He looked down at the unconscious boy with the same detached calmness as someone inspecting a broken rock. “He isn’t dead,” he said evenly. “But he probably has a concussion. I gave him a pretty strong headbutt.”
Aiku stared between the two — one calmly standing there, the other twitching faintly on the ground — and swallowed nervously.
He thought: Huh? Scary… Sae’s head isn’t even bruised. But the boar — Shidou — was knocked out! His skull must be tough.
The minutes dragged slowly. The forest had gone still again, the faint chirp of birds returning in the distance. The children finally relaxed enough to breathe normally, and Aiku knelt beside Shidou, checking his pulse just to be sure.
“Still alive,” he murmured softly, then sighed.
The sun had shifted slightly, spilling dappled light across the clearing. Aiku, with a faint sense of pity, took off his haori and gently laid it over Shidou’s chest. The boy was reckless and loud, but he’d fought demons too. He deserved at least a bit of kindness.
Sae, however, did not follow suit. His haori remained neatly draped over his shoulders — spotless, undisturbed. He didn’t even glance at Shidou. That haori meant something to him. Aiku knew. It wasn’t pride or vanity; it was attachment. That fabric carried memory Sae thought— Rin’s gift. Something irreplaceable.
Time passed in uneasy quiet. The breeze rustled the trees, carrying faint scents of blood and earth.
Then, without warning, Shidou gasped — a sharp, sudden inhale like a drowning man breaking through the surface of water. His eyes flew open wide, wild and bright again.
“C’mon! Bring it!” he shouted, leaping to his feet as if the concussion had never happened.
Aiku stumbled back slightly, startled. “You just woke up! What’s with you?!”
But Shidou didn’t stop. He stomped the ground like a charging boar and lunged at Aiku, who narrowly sidestepped. The children squeaked and ducked behind him.
Aiku rushed over toward Sae, seeking distance from the chaos. Sae didn’t even flinch at the commotion — instead, he crouched down, carefully lifting a large stone in his hands. Around him, the three children worked quietly, placing smaller rocks beside a patch of freshly dug soil. Their faces were solemn now.
Shidou paused mid-charge, blinking. “What’re you guys doing?!” he demanded, voice rising.
Sae’s reply came with his usual sharp, annoyed tone. “Laying a body to rest. Ryusei, help us. There’s still a dead body in that mansion.”
Shidou’s eyes widened, his expression twisting into disbelief. “What’s the point of burying a living thing’s corpse?! I won’t do it! I won’t help! Fight me instead!”
Aiku pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. He really is crazy… he thought.
Sae didn’t even look up. “Your wounds are painful,” he said plainly. “So you can’t help.”
“Huh?” Shidou grunted.
Sae’s voice softened slightly, though the sarcasm was still there. “Each person’s pain threshold is different. Carrying dead people out of the mansion, digging a hole, and burying them is really hard. But I’ll work hard with Aiku and these boys, so don’t worry.”
Kiyoshi blinked, his small hands clutching a pebble. He thought: He does get it…
Yuto, however, frowned, tilting his head. He doesn’t get it…
Sae looked over his shoulder with an indifferent clueless look. “You can just rest, Ryusei,” he added, his tone dry.
Shidou froze for a moment, his body tensing, before his face twisted in frustration. “Huuuuuuuh?! Don’t mock me! I can bury a hundred people! Two hundred! More than anyone!”
He stomped his foot like an angry child.
Aiku sighed under his breath. Sae said nothing.
---
After a long while — the sun now high and the scent of earth thick in the air — they finally finished burying all the demons. The graves stood neatly in a line, the ground freshly packed. Aiku exhaled deeply, wiping sweat from his brow, while Sae stood tall, quiet, his expression unreadable.
Then, without hesitation, Sae reached for the wooden box — that held Rin, his precious little brother — and slid it securely down his back, tightening the straps. His movements were careful, deliberate, respectful.
They began descending the mountain. The air grew lighter the further they went, sunlight spilling through the trees in soft, golden patches. The forest, though scarred from battle, seemed to breathe again.
Aiku reached out, patting Yuto’s head gently. “You did well,” he murmured.
The crow perched above them suddenly croaked loudly, flapping its wings. It spat out a small, scented pouch that landed neatly in Kiyoshi’s hand.
Kiyoshi blinked, eyes wide. Inside was a small sachet of wisteria flowers — faintly purple, their fragrance sweet and sharp. It shimmered faintly in the light.
“Kaww! It’s a demon ward,” The crow said. “Carry it with you from now on. You have thin blood — it’ll keep you safe.”
Kiyoshi nodded, clutching the charm tightly. Yuto immediately took his arm, wrapping it around him protectively. Miri, standing beside them, bowed deeply.
“Thank you very much,” Kiyoshi said, his small voice trembling slightly. “We can go home on our own.”
Miri smiled gently as she echoed the gesture.
Sae gave a curt nod, lifting his hand in a small wave — a rare softness crossing his otherwise stern expression.
Meanwhile, Shidou was a different story entirely. Off to the side, he slammed his forehead against a nearby tree with a loud thunk. Once. Twice. The tree shook. Sae rolled his eyes.
Then Sae’s crow swooped down, perching on a branch above. “Kawww! Now come with me! Kaw!”
Sae sighed, straightening his haori. He glanced toward Shidou, who had stopped his headbutting just long enough to look back at him.
“Did you grow up in the mountains too, Ryusei?” Sae asked, half serious, half exasperated.
Shidou snorted. “I’m nothing like you! I have parents! Siblings too!”
The crow let out another sharp cry — “Kaw!”
Shidou puffed out his chest. “My only pleasure is to match my strength against others!”
Sae blinked once, unimpressed. “Oh,” he said flatly.
Aiku, standing beside him, echoed at the same time. “Oh.”
The narrator’s voice cut through, low and matter-of-fact:
Shidou took on a Demon Slayer Corps member and stole his sword. He then heard about Final Selection and the existence of demons. He faced Final Selection without the help of a trainer, and somehow, by sheer brute instinct, made it into the Demon Slayer Corps.
Shidou smirked, turning toward Sae, his wild grin returning. “When I spot an opening in you, I’m gonna take you down!”
Sae exhaled sharply, turning away. “I’m Itoshi Sae.”
Shidou pointed dramatically at him. “Okay, under lashes! I’m gonna beat you!”
Sae spun back around, visibly irritated. “Stop giving me nicknames, idiot!”
The echo of their voices faded into the trees as sunlight poured over the mountain path — one calm and cold, the other loud and untamed — both walking away from the chaos, side by side, their fates reluctantly intertwined.
---
The crow took them to a house with the wisteria flowers crest of the Fuji family.
Before them stood a large traditional mansion at the edge of the forest, its old wooden gate framed by thick blooming clusters of pale purple wisteria that swayed lightly in the warm afternoon wind. The sun glinted off the polished wooden beams of the entrance, where a faded nameplate carved with elegant brushstrokes read “Fuji Family.”
Sae, Aiku, and Shidou stopped before the gate — their uniforms dirty, their bodies bandaged and stained with the grime of battle.
The crow, black feathers glinting like ink in the light, fluttered down and landed neatly on Sae’s open palm.
“Kaaaaaw! Rest! Rest! Rest until your wounds fully heal!” it cried, flapping once for emphasis.
Sae blinked in disbelief.
Aiku glanced at his tiny sparrow perched timidly on his arm, while Sae frowned. “We can rest?” he muttered under his breath. “I had to fight a demon while I was hurt... now you just told me I can rest... Why the hell didn’t you say it earlier, you damn crow—”
But before he could finish his complaint, the old wooden door of the mansion creaked open.
Out stepped an elderly woman, small and frail-looking, her silver hair neatly tied behind her head. Her kimono was a faded lavender, patterned faintly with the same wisteria flowers that grew around the gate. Despite her age, her movements were graceful and calm.
She peered at them with kindly eyes. “Hello?”
Sae instantly straightened up, his earlier irritation vanishing as if it had never been there. “Sorry to arrive so late,” he said politely, bowing slightly.
Aiku, however, froze. His face paled. “A ghost! It’s a ghost!”
Sae immediately snapped, “Knock it off.”
The old woman chuckled softly, unfazed by their odd behavior. She bowed deeply and said, “You must be demon slayers. Please, come in.”
Shidou, still slightly hunched from his injuries, eyed her carefully. She looks weak... he thought, though something about her gentle calm put him on edge.
She led them through a narrow hallway lit by old lanterns, the air carrying the faint scent of herbs and clean tatami. When they reached the dining room, the old woman slid open the door with a quiet hum.
Inside was a low dining table, short and broad, carved from dark cedar wood. Cushions surrounded it neatly on all sides. Upon the table were laid out dishes — bowls of steaming miso soup, glistening rice, pickled vegetables, freshly fried tempura, and warm tea that sent up small curling wisps of steam.
“Here is a meal for you...” she said softly.
The sight made Aiku’s stomach growl. Shidou’s eyes gleamed with instant hunger.
But before they could say anything, the old woman led them further into the hall and slid open another shoji door, revealing three futons neatly arranged side by side on the tatami floor. The futons looked soft, their white fabric freshly washed and neatly folded, and beside each lay a thick quilt.
“And a warm bed...” the old woman added kindly.
Aiku immediately pointed an accusing finger at her. “She’s a ghost! Sae, that woman is a monster! She’s unnaturally fast! She’s a ghost!”
Without even looking, Sae smacked the back of Aiku’s head lightly. “Shut it.”
He sighed, watching as the old woman left the room. According to the crow... he thought, the wisteria flowers crest belongs to a family that the demon slayers once saved. They take care of demon slayers free of charge.
Not long after, the old woman summoned a doctor from the nearby town. The doctor — a quiet man with a white beard — examined them carefully under the glow of the paper lanterns.
“All four have broken ribs,” the doctor said finally. “Rest is essential.”
Aiku had two broken ribs.
Sae had three.
Shidou had four.
Now, the three of them lay on the futon bedding, soft cotton layers spread over tatami mats. Soft but firm underneath, keeping their backs straight. The faint scent of fresh linen and herbal ointment filled the room.
Shidou groaned, pressing a hand to the top of his head where a large, round swelling — a goose egg — bulged under his hair. “Those goose eggs hurt...” he muttered.
Sae turned his head slightly on the pillow and said calmly, “Apologies to Aiku.”
Shidou glared weakly at him. “No.”
Aiku sighed inwardly. Shidou was a very messy eater, he thought. He always tries to prove something to Sae.
Earlier, during dinner, Shidou had been tearing into his tempura like a starving boar, crumbs flying, sauce smeared near his mouth, his grin wide as he smirked at Sae between bites — a silent challenge.
Sae had simply sighed, resting his cheek on his hand. “If you’re hungry, you can have this too,” he said, pushing one of his plates toward him.
Aiku had blinked. But Shidou wouldn’t take the bait, Aiku thought now. He’s completely forgotten about the box. If this jerk can forget his grudges so quickly... why did he beat me up so much? This jerk.
Aiku clenched his teeth slightly, watching the two. If he won’t ask... then it’s up to me.
He took a quiet breath, then turned toward Sae. “Sae... no one asks, so I will. Why is it that you’re traveling with a demon?”
The room went still.
Sae froze mid-breath. For a moment, even the rustling of the wisteria outside seemed to pause. Then he turned his head toward Aiku, his voice low. “Aiku... You knew, and you still protected it?”
Sae's cold indifferent looks cracked— faint, almost grateful. “Aiku... thanks.”
Aiku shook his head dismissively. “Don’t flatter me so much.”
“I have a keen sense of smell,” Sae said after a pause. “From the very start I knew... that you were good and strong.”
“Don’t tease me,” Aiku muttered, turning away. “I’m not that strong. I still haven’t forgiven you for leaving Yuto behind.”
Before Sae could respond, a faint creak echoed through the room.
The wooden box at the corner began to shake softly, its latch rattling.
“It’s trying to get out,” Aiku said, his eyes narrowing slightly.
On the far side of the room, Shidou was half-asleep, his mind wandering lazily. He won’t accept my challenges? he thought groggily. I took his food! He got mad a few times, but what about? I don’t remember...
The latch snapped open with a small click.
The box lid creaked open, and a small figure crawled out.
Rin — small, delicate, and silent — stepped out of the box in his smaller form. His long dark green hair fell over his shoulders, brushing the tatami as he lifted his head.
Then, in a faint shimmer of movement, he straightened and returned to his normal form, standing gracefully in the dim light. From Aiku’s perspective, Rin looked almost ethereal — his eyes calm, his features soft, the bamboo muzzle still secured gently around his mouth.
Aiku blinked in surprise.
Across from them, Shidou mumbled incoherently. ...Too much thinking... Then he turned over, and within seconds, soft snoring filled the air.
Sae exhaled slowly and began, “This is Rin, my—”
But before he could finish, Aiku leaned forward with a teasing grin.
“Sae,” he said. “You were with such a cute girl every day? And traveling in pure bliss. I never thought you had a girlfriend.”
Sae froze completely. His expression went blank for half a second — then his irritation began to rise, slow but visible.
This motherfucker didn’t even let me finish talking and just assumed things, he thought darkly.
He watched Aiku, who only continued talking, oblivious to the growing tension.
Sae’s temple twitched.
Rin tilted his head slightly, eyes blinking in quiet confusion as Aiku kept rambling, his tone half-mocking and half-serious.
The night stretched into dawn, the faint blue of morning filtering through the paper screens.
Sae didn’t even bother correcting Aiku anymore — it wasn’t worth the effort. Let him figure it out himself, he thought with a faint sigh. Anyone with eyes could tell the truth if they actually looked. Rin and Sae looked nearly identical; if someone couldn’t recognize they were siblings, that person had to be both blind and stupid. The same sharp teal eyes, the same facial structure — it was painfully obvious.
But then Sae’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Girlfriend? GIRL? The word echoed in his mind, and irritation flared instantly. How many times did he have to say it? Rin was a boy. A boy. Why the hell did everyone keep mistaking him for a girl? The thought alone was enough to make Sae grit his teeth in frustration, his patience wearing thinner with each passing second.
---
Sae was troubled.
Aiku had gotten along surprisingly well with him—much to Sae’s dismay. The man had a way of talking endlessly, laughing too loudly, and teasing him without pause. Every morning, Aiku’s chatter followed him like an echo he couldn’t escape.
But worse than Aiku’s constant friendliness… was Shidou.
Shidou didn’t talk as much, but he acted twice as loud. He would headbutt Sae at the slightest provocation, grin afterward as if it were the funniest thing in the world, and then challenge him to another pointless contest just to watch Sae’s patience slip away.
Sae was annoyed—no, beyond annoyed. Yet, despite his irritation, there was a strange, reluctant rhythm between them. Their constant bickering had become almost normal, a rowdy kind of peace forged through noise and bruises.
When their broken bones finally healed, Sae's crow swooped through the open window one morning, its sharp voice breaking the fragile quiet of the Fuji family house.
“Kaaaaaaw! Urgent directive! Urgent directive! Head for Mount Natagumo at once!”
The three slayers looked up instantly, and the room that had once felt warm now turned heavy with tension. Sae rose first, adjusting the hem of his haori as he exhaled slowly.
“Mount Natagumo…” he murmured. His teal eyes narrowed. “Understood.”
There was no hesitation. They dressed quickly in their Demon Slayer Corps uniforms, their movements automatic—tightening belts, adjusting the wrappings of their swords, sliding on their boots. The quiet rustle of cloth and metal filled the air.
Sae then turned toward the wooden box resting in the corner. The box was still and silent, but he could feel Rin’s presence inside—calm, breathing softly in his small form.
“Rin,” Sae said quietly, kneeling beside the box. “It’s time to rest for a bit.”
He fastened the lid carefully, slinging the box over his back with the practiced motion of someone who had done this countless times before.
The three made their way toward the front of the mansion where the old woman from before was waiting, lantern in hand. The wisteria flowers hanging from the eaves swayed gently in the wind, their faint fragrance lingering in the air like a protective charm.
Sae bowed deeply. “Thank you for everything.”
The old woman’s voice was soft, warm. “Good luck,” she said simply, her eyes glinting in the lantern light.
Sae nodded once before turning to leave. His footsteps were steady, echoing faintly on the stone path leading away from the house. But of course—Shidou couldn’t let the moment pass quietly.
“What’re you doing, you old hag?!” Shidou barked, pointing dramatically. His voice shattered the calm night like a thunderclap. He raised his arm as if to strike, his grin feral and reckless.
Before he could take another step, Aiku darted forward, planting himself squarely in front of the old woman.
“Are you stupid?! It’s a ritual! It’s purification because we’re going into danger!”
Sae grabbed Shidou by the collar and yanked him back, his tone a sharp hiss. “Cut it out.”
The old woman didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled softly at their chaotic energy, her wrinkled hands folded in prayer.
“At all times,” she said, her voice calm but firm, “please live with high pride. I wish you good fortune in war.”
The three slayers stood there for a moment, the wind brushing against their uniforms. The soft glow from the lantern made the wisteria crest gleam faintly.
As they turned to leave, Shidou frowned, glancing back over his shoulder.
“High pride? What’s that mean?”
Aiku sighed inwardly. He’s completely clueless.
Sae replied bluntly, not slowing his pace. “That old woman is praying for our safety.”
Shidou tilted his head. “What position is that? And why would it be embarrassing? What exactly is ‘behaving appropriately’? Why does she care about us? She doesn’t have anything to do with anything, so why? She doesn’t understand our position, does she?”
Sae, already fed up, increased his stride. “...You talk too much.”
He left both Shidou and Aiku trailing behind him, their voices echoing faintly through the trees as they hurried to keep up.
---
After hours of walking, the landscape shifted. The peaceful, open fields slowly gave way to darkness. The air turned colder, thicker, and the trees loomed closer together, their branches tangled like reaching fingers.
They had arrived at Mount Natagumo—and the mountain was alive with something unnatural.
A full moon hung above the treetops, casting thin, pale light through the canopy. Every step forward made the ground crunch with damp leaves and broken webs.
Aiku’s breath trembled. “Wait. Will you please wait… we’re getting close to our goal, and I’m kinda scared…”
Shidou turned his head sharply, eyes gleaming with mockery. “You’re disgusting!”
Aiku bristled. “I don’t wanna hear it from you, pig head! I’m normal, and you’re abnormal!”
Before Sae could sigh again, his expression changed. He paused, sniffing the air. A strange metallic scent—blood.
Through the darkness, a figure appeared. A Demon Slayer, crawling across the dirt, his uniform torn and soaked crimson. His fingers clawed at the ground.
“H… help…” the man rasped, his eyes wild and empty.
Sae immediately moved forward, kneeling beside him. “He’s wearing the Corps uniform. He’s one of ours. What happened to him?”
The wounded slayer tried to speak, his voice shaking. Sae leaned closer, concern flickering in his teal eyes.
“Are you all right? What happened—?”
Then, in an instant, something yanked the man upward. His body lifted off the ground as if pulled by invisible strings.
Both Sae and Shidou froze, heads snapping upward. The man’s scream pierced through the forest.
“Aaaaahh! I was still connected! Heeeelp meee!”
He vanished into the trees. Silence fell, broken only by the rustling of leaves.
Sae stood frozen for a moment before tightening his grip on his sword. “I… I’m… going in there.”
But Shidou stepped forward, pushing Sae aside with his shoulder. His grin returned, savage and eager.
“Me first! You can tremble in fear and follow behind! I’m hungry!”
Sae blinked, tilting his head slightly. “Hungry?”
Aiku groaned. “He means he’s hungry for battle.”
Without another word, Sae and Shidou stepped into the forest’s shadow, the darkness swallowing them whole, leaving Aiku behind.
---
Inside, the mountain was a maze of webs and whispers. The moonlight barely reached the forest floor; everything was coated in silvery threads that shimmered faintly with each movement. The air smelled musty, damp—alive with the faint hum of insects.
Shidou moved ahead, his steps loud and impatient. He swung his sword in wide arcs, slicing through the sticky webs that clung to the trees. Each strike left faint trails of lightning-like energy across the threads.
“Hmph!” he grunted. “This place is full of spider webs! And they’re in my way!”
He turned toward Sae with that same mischievous smirk, brushing a stray web off his shoulder before leaning closer—far too close.
His voice dropped, teasing. “You sure you’re not scared, pretty boy? I can stick close, y’know—keep you warm if you start shaking.” His tone dripped with playful, eyes glinting even in the dark.
Sae shot him a sideways glance, unimpressed. His composure never wavered. “You flirt even in a place like this?”
“Maybe I just like seeing your face twist up like that,” Shidou replied, his grin widening.
Sae didn’t take the bait. Instead, his voice softened—unexpectedly calm. “Thank you for agreeing to come along. The twisted, ominous smell from the mountain was really disgusting. But you calmed me down.”
The words were quiet, almost too sincere, and for a fleeting moment, Shidou’s smirk faltered.
He blinked, his mind suddenly flashing back—not to the forest, not to Sae—but to the old woman at the Fuji mansion.
“Your clothes are very dirty,” she had said, holding out a fresh uniform with trembling hands. “Let me wash them for you. I’ll bring them back. Please wear these now. They have a nice texture, so they’ll feel good.”
He remembered her smile, the warmth in her eyes as she added softly,
“Let’s have tempura for dinner. Yes… that food with batter on it.”
The memory contrasted sharply with the suffocating darkness around him now—the sticky webs, the smell of decay, the distant echo of cries.
For a rare moment, Shidou felt something shift in his chest. A strange warmth—foreign, almost uncomfortable.
But before Shidou could think more Sae said "Ryusei.." while pointing behind them and they saw another demon slayer boy falling from a high tree.
The sound of branches cracking echoed through the dense, humid air of Mount Natagumo. The forest was thick with mist, a heavy veil that swallowed the moonlight and made every shadow stretch unnaturally long. The boy crashed through the lower branches, tumbling violently before hitting the ground with a painful thud. Leaves and dirt scattered in all directions, the faint smell of blood and spider silk mixing in the night air.
Sae’s sharp teal eyes followed the movement in silence. He didn’t flinch, only adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword as he approached the fallen boy. His movements were precise — silent steps across the forest floor, not a twig snapping beneath his sandals.
Sae paused behind the demon slayer boy, his expression unreadable. The boy turned, face pale and smeared with dirt, eyes wide with panic. When he noticed both Sae and Shidou standing there — one calm, one menacing — he instinctively flinched backward. His sword hand trembled.
Sae said calmly, “I've come to help. I'm Itoshi Sae, rank Mizunoto.”
The demon slayer boy’s voice cracked as he blurted out, “Mizu-noto... Mizu-noto?! Not a Hashira?!” His face twisted in despair. “It doesn’t matter how many Mizunoto come! It won’t make any difference! There’s no point!”
His desperation spilled into the night, the sound bouncing against the twisted trunks around them.
But Shidou, who had been glaring with barely restrained aggression, finally snapped. His jaw clenched, a feral grin curling across his lips. The veins in his neck bulged as he snarled, “What did you just say about my Sae-chan?”
Before the boy could react, Shidou lunged — fast, explosive. His hand gripped the front of the boy’s uniform, then his fist slammed into his face with brutal force. The impact echoed like a thunderclap. The boy flew backward, hitting a tree and crumpling to the ground, coughing blood and dirt.
“Shut up!” Shidou barked, stomping closer. His teeth were bared, eyes burning with chaotic delight. “Hurry up and explain the situation, weakling! If you disrespect under lashes again… I’m going to punch you. And if you want to talk about pointless things…” He grabbed the boy by his hair, yanking his head up roughly. “Let’s start with your existence!”
The boy whimpered, pain written across his face, but he quickly stammered out between ragged breaths, “A... A crow brought an order, so ten Corps members came! Not long after going up the mountain... the Corps members... began killing each other!”
Sae’s brows drew together slightly, his expression tightening with subtle concern. “Killing each other?” he repeated softly, his tone unreadable.
As the trembling boy spoke, his eyes widened — memories flashing violently behind them.
Flashback.
Under a silver-gray sky choked with spider webs, ten demon slayers had ascended Mount Natagumo. Their swords glimmered faintly under the moonlight, their uniforms dark and clean. They moved cautiously, blades drawn, eyes scanning the thick webs that hung like ghostly curtains between the trees.
Then, one of them suddenly stopped mid-step, his eyes going vacant — as if something invisible had seized his will. His sword turned, flashing once, and plunged into the chest of the comrade beside him.
“W-what are you doing?!” someone screamed — but before they could react, two others turned their blades as well, movements jerky, inhuman. Screams filled the forest. Blades clashed. Blood splattered across the damp moss and tangled roots.
The boy — younger than most — had fallen to his knees, horror twisting his face as the chaos erupted around him. He watched his comrades cut each other down, their eyes empty, their movements controlled by something unseen.
And then — he saw her.
A woman’s laughter echoed through the forest. “Tee hee! Tee hee hee!”
From the shadows emerged a demon — a woman with long, glossy white hair that shimmered blue under the moonlight. Her pale skin glowed faintly, her crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. Her hands moved gracefully, fingers curled around glimmering threads that caught the moonlight — spider silk.
“Now, my darling dolls...” she cooed, her tone dripping with childlike mockery. “Dance! Dance like mad until your arms and legs fall off!”
Her fingers flicked, and the demon slayers — puppeted by thin, silvery threads — began to twitch, then move. Their broken bodies stood again, arms lifting unnaturally, and they attacked one another in a grotesque imitation of combat.
The boy had fallen backward, trembling, trying to crawl away as the blood mist thickened. The last thing he saw before running was one of his comrades coughing blood violently, web strings tightening around his neck like a noose.
---
Elsewhere, a crow arrived, panting heavily, its wings tattered from exhaustion. The small creature flapped unsteadily through the mist before landing on the arm of a woman standing beneath a tall cedar tree.
The woman had long black hair, loosely at the nape of her neck, her face calm but severe. Her eyes — sharp — scanned the crow’s trembling form as it croaked out its report in broken caws.
“You fought hard to make it home,” she said quietly, her voice steady and composed. “Most of my swordsmen were done in.”
“This may be the work of the Twelve Kizuki.”
The air around her grew heavier. Behind her stood three figures — tall, poised, radiating quiet authority.
Hashira.
The woman’s expression softened slightly, though her tone remained commanding. “It seems... I must dispatch the Hashira. Yoichi... Seishiro... Reo...”
The three straightened.
Isagi, Reo, and Nagi — the swordsmen who stood out even among the Corps — bowed their heads slightly before answering in unison, “Understood.”
The moonlight caught on their Nichirin blades as they are still sitting, the steel glinting coldly.
Reo exhaled softly, his expression almost wistful. “It would be so nice if humans and demons could get along,” he said, a faint smile curling his lips. “Don’t you agree, Isagi?”
Isagi turned his head slightly, blue eyes cutting through the mist with their calm, steady light. “As long as demons eat people,” he replied bluntly, “it’s impossible.”
Nagi yawned, his pale hair swaying slightly in the breeze. “Hassle...” he muttered under his breath, eyes half-lidded.
Reo’s smile widened faintly at that, as if amused by their contrasting moods. He shifted his sword onto his shoulder, turning to look at Nagi with a soft, teasing expression.
“Don’t be so tired up, Treasure,” Reo said playfully, his tone both affectionate and provoking.
Nagi only groaned again, clearly already exasperated despite the coming mission. His hand brushed lazily at the sleeve of his haori, brushing off a speck of dust.
Meanwhile, Reo turned his gaze back to Isagi, unable to resist continuing. He stepped closer, poking Isagi’s shoulder repeatedly, his grin widening with each jab. “Hey... Don’t you think? Hey, Isagi? Hey, hey... It’d be nice if we got along... but... hey...”
Isagi didn’t respond.
Reo sighed dramatically, lowering his hand and glancing up at the moonlight breaking faintly through the mist. “You’re so cold, Isagi,” he murmured. “You’d think being around me would’ve softened you up by now.”
No response.
.
.
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Hi, it’s me, Miya! I’m back from my exam break!
As an apology for not updating for so long, I’ll be dropping a side story—hope you enjoy it!
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---
The sky was painted in soft amber as practice ended. The field shimmered faintly under the sunset, blades of grass bending in the cool evening wind.
Kiyora Jin stood near the goalpost, silent as always, his black hair falling over calm, peacock-blue eyes. He watched as Kurona Ranze laughed with a few teammates before jogging over — light, graceful, with pink hair catching the last rays of the sun.
“You stayed behind again,” Kurona said gently, his voice calm but full of warmth.
Kiyora gave a small nod. “Just wanted to practice my aim a little more.”
Kurona smiled. “You always push yourself quietly. I admire that, Jin.”
Kiyora's gaze softened. “…You make it sound like a good thing.”
“It is,” Kurona said, his tone light as the wind. “That’s why we’ll both get there someday — the top of the world.”
For a while, they stood in silence, listening to the rustle of the field and the distant chirp of evening crickets. Then they began walking home side by side, their steps matching naturally.
Kurona’s voice was soft, thoughtful. “When we make it big… let’s still walk home together sometimes. Even if we’re busy.”
Kiyora looked at him, the faintest smile forming. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
They continued down the quiet road, the sunset fading into violet and blue. Their shadows stretched long and close behind them.
And then — unseen — two faint figures emerged from the air.
A boy with dark hair and blue eyes stood beside a girl with soft pink hair and kind eyes. Their translucent hands reached for each other as their forms shimmered like starlight.
They looked at the two boys walking ahead — the new versions of themselves, reborn and happy.
Their fingers intertwined gently.
“This universe,” they whispered together.
A warm light enveloped them, and they vanished into the wind, leaving only a faint, comforting breeze behind.
Kiyora paused for a moment, feeling it brush against his cheek.
“Strange,” he murmured quietly. “The wind feels… peaceful.”
Kurona looked at him with a smile. “Maybe it’s the world cheering us on.”
Kiyora glanced at him — at that soft smile that somehow always felt familiar — and nodded.
“…Yeah. Maybe it is.”
They walked on together, two souls bound by dreams and something deeper — something carried through this universe.
Notes:
Ryusae!!!!
Isagi third wheeling nagireo soon.. soon..
I was a little unsure about deciding their ages, but here’s what I settled on:
Sae: 18
Rin: 14 (physically)
Aiku: 18
Shidou: 18
Reo: 18
Nagi: 21
Isagi: 17Yes, I’ve decided to mostly stick with their canon ages. (Except for few)
For those of you who were curious: yes, Ego is the headmaster of the Demon Slayer Corps. And yes… Ego is a woman—heh.
I just realized how much I’ve already written, and it’s only Chapter 4… I’ll try to keep it shorter from now on
Chapter 5: Spider (1)
Summary:
Sae battles a terrifying puppet controlled by the Demon Spider Mother, pushing himself to his limits to protect others. After killing her, he is confronted by the Demon Spider Father, who overwhelms him and throws him through the forest. Sae crashes deep into the mountainside, where he finally comes face-to-face with a demon and the Demon Spider Sister—realizing that the true nightmare is only just beginning.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Aiku sat on the cold ground, his legs folded awkwardly beneath him, the forest air thick and damp around his skin. Moonlight broke through the canopy in fractured beams, streaking across his face, catching the distant shimmer of fear still lingering in his eyes. He stared at the direction Sae and Shidou had gone — into that suffocating darkness, swallowed by silence.
Do they... hate me? he thought, the question whispering in his mind like the rustle of leaves. Is it normal to just leave someone behind? His fingers tightened against his knees. The smell of pine and damp moss filled his lungs, grounding him, but his chest still ached faintly. If we were real friends... wouldn’t they try to convince me?
He glanced down, frowning softly. If two of them had asked... I would have gone. His gaze rose again, fixed on the direction of the mountain. But the three of them went up that scary mountain... in such a hurry. His throat tightened slightly. Did they even care how I felt, being left behind?
The quiet was broken suddenly by a sharp, cheerful chirping.
Aiku blinked. His small sparrow — the messenger bird assigned to him — fluttered down from a low branch and landed on his shoulder. The tiny creature puffed its feathers and chirped insistently, hopping in agitation.
“Cheep! Chirp! Chiiiirp!”
Aiku tilted his head slightly, exhaustion shadowing his expression. “Hm?”
The bird hopped closer, wings flapping, and chirped louder — a series of frantic squeaks that to any other demon slayer would’ve been clear.
Sulking doesn’t do any good! Go help your friends! Quickly!
But Aiku only heard noise — high-pitched, relentless noise. He blinked, watching the tiny creature with mild confusion. Then, slowly, a soft smile tugged at his lips.
“I envy how relaxed you are,” he murmured, voice low. “You don’t understand a thing about humanity.”
The sparrow froze. Then, as if deeply offended, it pecked his hand — hard.
“Ah! Ow—hey!” Aiku jerked back, shaking his hand as the bird continued to nip at him, its feathers puffed like a tiny, furious warrior. “Alright, alright! I get it!”
He sighed, rubbing his bitten hand, a faint chuckle slipping out despite himself. For a moment, the weight pressing against his chest loosened. He looked toward the mountain again, the darkness beyond now less suffocating — and more like a challenge.
“I guess... I can’t stay scared forever,” he whispered. “I’m a Demon Slayer, after all.”
He rose, brushing dirt from his uniform. The sparrow fluttered up, landing lightly on his shoulder again, still chirping but now softer — encouraging.
Together, they disappeared into the forest, Aiku stepping into the darkness of the forest with newfound resolve.
–––
Deeper within the woods, the air was heavy with decay and silk. Pale webs stretched between trees like ghostly curtains. A figure staggered among them — a young demon slayer, eyes lifeless, movements jerky and unnatural.
Sae’s blade gleamed as he dodged a clumsy swing, the wind from it slicing through a thread of web.
Nearby, Shidou’s laughter rang out — wild, unrestrained. “Ah ha ha ha ha! Ha haaa!” His sword crashed against another demon slayer that was control's blade, sparks scattering into the dark. “These guys are all idiots! Don’t they know it’s prohibited for Corps members to fight each other?!”
Sae shot him a look — sharp, unimpressed. Even as he twisted his body to avoid another strike, he muttered, “No... they’re moving strangely. Something is controlling them.”
Shidou grinned wider, swinging his sword up, the moonlight flashing along its edge. “Good. Then I can cut ’em up!”
“No!” Sae barked, deflecting a blow. “Some of them are still alive! And we mustn’t defile the corpses of our comrades!”
Shidou groaned exaggeratedly, lowering his sword slightly. “Tch. Stop bossing me around, pretty boy,” he said, smirking through his messy hair. “You sound like my wife.”
Sae ignored him entirely, rolling his eyes before lunging forward — his blade cutting through a web that stretched taut between two trees. The puppet slayer attached to it fell limp, landing hard against the ground.
Two more controlled slayers rushed forward — their faces blank, their bodies trembling under invisible strain. Sae and Shidou moved at the same instant, kicking them away with coordinated precision.
Sae’s nostrils flared — the faintest trace of sweetness on the air. His gaze flicked behind him, his breath steady. Behind me... a sweet, unsettling smell.
His blade sliced downward — clean, precise — severing a thread connected to one of the slayers. The boy dropped instantly, body collapsing, the thread snapping in the moonlight.
“They’re being manipulated by the threads!” Sae shouted, pivoting sharply. “Cut the threads!”
Shidou’s grin widened, eyes gleaming like molten gold. “Well sure, pretty boy! I saw that before you did!”
With a roar of laughter, he swung his blade in a wide arc, slicing through three threads at once. The bodies attached to them fell like dolls with their strings cut.
Sae’s mind raced. Where...? Where’s the demon that’s controlling them?
He sniffed again — sharper this time. A really strong odor... but just for a moment—
Then something pricked at his arm.
He looked down. Two small spiders, their bodies pale and glistening, crawled up his sleeve, fine threads trailing from their legs.
A faint tug — his muscles jerked involuntarily as the web tightened.
Without hesitation, Sae’s sword flashed once more, cleanly severing the threads before they could take hold.
The spiders dropped to the ground, twitching weakly.
Sae exhaled quietly, eyes narrowing into the darkness.
Sae’s sharp gaze swept the forest floor — his boots crunching lightly against layers of fallen leaves. Then he saw them.
Spiders.
Tiny, pale bodies crawling over the dirt in thick clusters, their legs twitching as they scurried across the roots and bark, weaving endless threads that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. Sae’s eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
Spiders? he thought, watching one of them crawl over a severed thread. Is the spider thread controlling them...? His stomach sank slightly as he straightened, his eyes shifting to the controlled slayers ahead. Then that must mean—
He turned sharply.
The four demon slayers whose strings he and Shidou had just cut off — now stood once again, their limbs jerking unnaturally. Thin new threads stretched from their backs into the shadows above, glistening like veins of silver.
Sae’s expression hardened. “It’s not enough just to cut the threads,” he said quietly. “The spiders will just spin more. So—”
He stopped mid-sentence, nostrils flaring slightly.
That smell again. Sickly sweet, like rotting flowers carried on the wind. It slithered into his senses, thick and nauseating.
Ugh— that smell again, he thought, lips curling faintly. It’s on the wind, but what is it...
His irritation spiked. With a grimace, he crushed a few of the tiny spiders under his heel, the sound sharp and faintly wet.
Shidou laughed from behind him, sword still in hand, eyes alight with reckless amusement. “Then we just gotta kill all these spiders!”
Sae didn’t even look back. “Impossible. Spiders are tiny. There must be hundreds of them.” He turned slightly, the edge of his sword catching a glint of moonlight. “We have to find the demon controlling them. But with this wind blowing, I can’t sniff them out.”
His voice sharpened with command. “Ryusei! If you have some way to pinpoint the location of the demon... then do it. And, um—” his eyes flicked toward another figure in the dark, “Igaguri. Igaguri and I will handle the people being controlled. Ryusei, you have to—”
He didn’t finish.
The forest went still.
From the canopy above, threads shimmered down — and a small, pale figure appeared, descending gracefully as though walking on air.
No, not air. Threads.
He was a demon — a boyish figure with snow-white hair that curtained one of his eyes, and faint red dots patterned like markings across his cheeks. His skin was the same ghostly hue as his kimono, making him almost blend into the webbed forest behind him.
The boy’s voice was quiet, almost eerily calm. “Don’t disturb the peaceful life of our family.”
Sae’s eyes followed the motion of his bare feet — resting on invisible lines of silk stretched across the air. Is he floating? he thought, gaze narrowing. No... he’s standing on threads.
Family?
The white-haired demon tilted his head, expression blank. “Mother will waste no time... killing you.”
Sae barely had time to process it before Shidou’s laughter broke through again.
“Mother, huh?” Shidou’s grin flashed wide. “Then I’ll just kill her first!”
He lunged, blades flashing like twin fangs. But the demon boy merely stepped aside — a ghost gliding across his web — and began to walk away, threads trembling softly beneath his feet.
“Damn!” Shidou snarled, skidding to a stop as his strike missed completely. “Where are you going?! Fight me! Fight me! Why did you even show up?!”
Sae exhaled through his nose, calm amid the chaos. Watching Shidou hit the ground in a crouch, he said, “Ryusei. I don’t think that boy is the demon. So first—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Shidou interrupted, flashing him a teasing grin. “I gotta find where the demon is.” His tone dipped playfully. “You worry too much, pretty boy.”
Sae’s only response was a quiet, unamused sigh.
Shidou stabbed both his swords into the ground before sitting cross-legged between them. The air seemed to shift around him, his breathing slowing into a steady, feral rhythm.
Beast Breathing: Seventh Form — Spatial Awareness.
Shidou grew up in the wild mountains, surrounded by predators and silence. His senses were honed sharper than any blade — his awareness attuned to the faintest shift in the air, the smallest tremor in the earth. When paired with his beast-style breathing, it allowed him to feel what others could not — the movement of distant life, the pulse of hidden demons, even the air stirred by threads of silk.
Now, his awareness spread like ripples across the forest. The threads... the trees... every vibration in the still air became part of his senses.
Then, faintly — an image flickered in his mind. A figure. White, graceful, eerily calm. The faint outline of a woman whose skin glowed pale as moonlight.
Shidou’s eyes snapped open. “Found it!” he shouted, pointing into the dense tangle of webs. “There!”
---
Above them, the white-haired demon child spread his hands — and from his palms, threads began to form, weaving into a glistening web.
“I won’t let anyone disturb us,” he murmured, voice trembling with a fragile devotion. “The five of us are a happy family.” His red-marked eyes darkened, filled with quiet fury.
“No one will ever... cut our bonds.”
---
“Leave this to me! You go ahead!”
Igaguri’s voice rang out over the rustle of webs and the muffled cries of the possessed demon slayers.
Sae halted mid-step, glancing back over his shoulder, while Shidou froze — his eyes narrowing with that usual mix of amusement and annoyance.
“What’s that bed-wetter talking about?!” Shidou barked, his voice echoing through the trees.
Igaguri spun toward him immediately, face red and sword trembling in his grip. “Who’s a bed-wetter, you stupid pig?! I wasn’t talking to you, so shut up!”
Shidou blinked, then growled in outrage. “What’d you call me?!”
But Igaguri cut him off, slashing through a glowing strand of web before shouting again — this time, his tone desperate yet determined. “You saw me defeated, but I’m a Demon Slayer Corps swordsman too! I’ll handle this! I know cutting the threads works — and their bodies move in simple patterns! I’ll watch out for the spiders! There are probably stronger fighters being controlled closer to the demon! Both of you, go!”
The conviction in Igaguri’s voice surprised even Sae for a moment. Then, with a curt nod, he turned on his heel.
“Fine,” Sae said. “Don’t die.”
Before Shidou could argue, Sae grabbed him by the back of his haori and began dragging him away.
“Hey! Hey! Let go, Lashes!” Shidou flailed, his voice rising indignantly. “First, I’m gonna punch you out! Who you callin’ a pig?! When we get back, I am so gonna knock your teeth in! I’m gonna beat that chump silly!”
Sae sighed, visibly annoyed, and finally shoved Shidou off as they broke through the web-covered clearing.
“Knock it off, will you? You damn horny demon,” Sae muttered under his breath, brushing dust off his sleeve.
Shidou glared. “He called me a stupid pig, Lashes!”
Their bickering was abruptly cut short.
Because right in front of them — standing in the middle of the path — was a girl. A demon slayer.
Her hands trembled violently as she held a katana slick with blood. Two corpses lay near her — one impaled on her sword, the other slumped at her feet, his hair tangled in her trembling grip.
The girl’s wide, tear-streaked eyes darted toward them. “No... don’t come this way,” she sobbed. “Bring someone with a higher rank! If you don’t, I’ll kill them all!”
Her voice cracked, and her sword swung wildly through the air as she screamed, “Please... please!”
Her movements were erratic but strong — unnaturally strong.
Sae’s gaze sharpened as he dodged the next slash with swift precision. She’s fast, he thought.
Behind her, glints of silk shimmered faintly in the dim light — the telltale threads of control.
The girl cried out again, her words broken by sobs. “I’m being controlled! So my moves are different! We weren’t this strong before!”
—
Elsewhere, deep within the forest, the demon spider woman tugged her web-covered fingers with manic delight.
“Tee hee hee! The closer you get to me, the thicker and stronger my threads... and my dolls!”
Her laughter died when a shadow appeared behind her — the white-haired spider boy, silent and expressionless.
“Mother,” he said softly.
The woman froze mid-laugh. Her eyes widened in dread. “Naruhaya...”
“You can win, right?” Naruhaya asked quietly, stepping closer.
Her hands trembled. “Am I... taking a little too long?”
Naruhaya's tone was cold. “If you don’t hurry... I’ll tell Dad.”
Her face drained of color. “It’s all right! I can do this! Count on me to protect you! You don’t need to get him! Not him!”
Naruhaya's gaze lingered for a moment — then he vanished into the shadows.
The mother spider demon’s hands quivered before she snapped — her voice breaking into a hysterical scream as she wove her threads with desperate speed.
“Aaaargh! Die! Die! Die now! If you don’t, I’ll suffer an awful fate!”
Her threads lashed outward, tightening around her puppets — and on the battlefield, Sae and Shidou could see the madness deepening in the girl’s eyes as the invisible strings forced her to move again.
The demon slayer girl’s eyes were wide with panic as she swung her blade wildly, her movements unnaturally sharp and powerful. “Run! Ruuuun!” she screamed, tears streaking her face. Sae easily dodged her frantic slashes, his expression tense, while Shidou sidestepped with an exasperated snort. She’s fast, Sae thought, studying the unnatural precision of her attacks. Between sobs, the girl shouted again, her voice breaking, “I’m being controlled, so my moves are different! We weren’t this strong before!” Her body trembled violently, fighting against the invisible threads that forced her to attack, her bones creaking from the strain.
The demon slayer girl suddenly jerked forward with a strangled gasp — her arm twisted unnaturally backward until a sharp crack echoed through the forest.
“Aaah!” she screamed, her voice raw with agony as her elbow bent in the wrong direction, bone snapping under the strain of invisible threads.
Sae’s eyes widened, his breath catching as he froze mid-step. The demon’s threads are forcing her to move in ways that are breaking her bones... what a damn cruel demon.
The girl’s head lolled forward, trembling from pain. Then, with what little strength she had left, she pointed shakily behind Sae.
He turned — and saw two more demon slayers stumbling toward them, their bodies jerked about like lifeless puppets.
One of the boys could barely stand, his body covered in bruises, eyes glazed from exhaustion. The other was trembling violently, his sword dragging against the dirt. Between choked sobs, he gasped, “K–k-kill m-me! Our hands and feet... our bonds... even stab our guys... when we’re moved... such pain... can’t stand it... no matter what... we’re dead. Help us... please end... our misery.”
Before Sae could react, Shidou grinned sharply.
“Okay! I will!” he bellowed, already leaping forward with his twin blades flashing.
“Wait—Ryusei!” Sae shouted, reaching toward him. “Maybe we can help!”
But Shidou was already swinging. His strikes were merciless, fast, brutal — each blow filled with the savage rhythm of his beast-like breathing.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” he roared, kicking one of the controlled boys back. “They want to die! They said so themselves! These guys’re fast! If you drag your feet, they’ll kill us!”
Sae clenched his jaw, anger flaring as his patience snapped. “I need to think! Wait—!”
The clash of steel and flesh filled the clearing, the smell of blood mixing with the sticky scent of web silk.
I don’t want to use a special technique, Sae thought as he ducked another swing from the possessed girl. But if I only cut the threads, the spiders will just reconnect them... How can I immobilize them..?
He sidestepped a slash — her blade sliced through the air where his head had been a moment ago.
I’ve got it.
Without hesitation, Sae dashed off between the trees, moving fast and silent.
“Hey! What’re you running around for?!” Shidou shouted after him, frustration echoing through the woods. “Stop messing around!”
Sae ignored him, leading the girl away. Her feet stumbled and dragged behind him as the threads forced her to chase him.
Then — Sae stopped abruptly, spun on his heel, and charged toward her. He seized her by the collar and, with incredible strength, lifted her effortlessly and hurled her skyward.
Her eyes widened in surprise. What strength!
The threads attached to her wrists and ankles snapped taut — and she was immediately tangled mid-air, crashing into a web of silk hanging between the trees.
She’s completely tangled up, Sae thought, exhaling.
Behind him, Shidou laughed manically. “What did you do?! I wanna do that too!”
Before Sae could answer, Shidou sprinted toward another approaching demon slayer boy. The boy lunged clumsily, and Shidou caught him by the arm, spinning him overhead before flinging him high into the air. The boy too became ensnared in the glowing strands and stuck on the tree.
“Did you see that?!” Shidou shouted proudly. “I can do anything you can do!”
Sae brushed his hair back, utterly unimpressed. “I wasn’t watching.”
“What?!” Shidou barked indignantly, but Sae was already moving, checking on the remaining slayers.
—
Deep in the forest, the Spider Demon Mother trembled violently. Her long, web-covered fingers twitched with agitation.
“I have no choice...” she muttered, her voice quivering as she yanked at the threads that glowed crimson in the moonlight. “No choice... but to bring out that doll!”
Her eyes gleamed with madness — and fear.
Because she knew Naruhaya would be watching.
---
Sae’s breathing steadied as he wiped a streak of blood from his cheek. The forest was unnervingly silent—just the faint rustle of the trees, the creak of strained threads still lingering in the air. Shidou’s voice shattered it.
“Good! Only one more! I’ll do it again, so get a good look this time!”
Sae’s gaze flicked toward him, calm but sharp. “Don’t be too rough, Ryusei.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shidou muttered, swinging his blades in wide arcs as if showing off.
Far away, deep within the webbed forest, the spider demon mother yanked at the silken cords strung between her fingers, her hands trembling. “I no longer need those fragile human dolls!” she hissed, voice cracking with frustration. “They’re useless—useless!” Each pull made the threads glimmer faintly, pulsing with her rage.
The air around Sae and Shidou suddenly tightened—every web trembled at once.
Sae’s eyes widened. The three human bodies before them jerked violently, their limbs twisting unnaturally. The exhausted demon slayer boy’s head twisted first, turning in a grotesque spiral—360 degrees—with a sickening crack. Then, one by one, the others followed. The girl’s spine bent backward, her body collapsing as if the strings had torn her apart from the inside.
The forest is filled with the sound of snapping bones.
Shidou froze, staring, disbelief written across his face before anger replaced it. “Aaargh! Dammit!” he shouted, slamming his blade into the dirt. “They’re all dead!”
For a moment, neither of them moved. The air smelled of blood and iron. Sae knelt beside one of the fallen demon slayers—his hand hovered just above the boy’s chest. His expression didn’t shift, but something in his eyes did. A quiet, flickering sorrow.
When he stood, the weight of it lingered in his voice. “Let’s go…”
Shidou looked at him, surprised by the subdued tone, but didn’t press. “…Okay.”
They dashed forward again, weaving through the thick forest. Leaves and threads brushed against their faces, faint whispers echoing from every direction.
“This way!” Shidou shouted, leaping over a tangle of roots. “We’re getting really close!”
Sae inhaled deeply, his sharp senses cutting through the forest’s heavy air. The wind shifted… good. My nose is useful again. His eyes narrowed. Two scents left—one faint… one strong. There!
They burst through the trees and stopped short. A tall, muscular demon stood half-hidden behind the thick brush, motionless. For a moment, it seemed lifeless—then its body twitched.
“Ryusei—” Sae began.
“I found it first!” Shidou barked, already stepping forward.
Sae’s hand lifted to stop him—then both froze. The demon turned toward them. There was no head.
“What the hell…?” Shidou muttered. “It doesn’t have a head! So it doesn’t have a weak spot! We can’t cut what isn’t there!”
Sae’s jaw tightened. “Ryusei… that means—”
“Whadda we do then?!” Shidou snapped.
Sae exhaled, patience thinning. “Use the kesagiri maneuver. Slash from the right side of the base of the neck through the left armpit. It’s a broad strike—it’ll be tough, but—”
Before he could finish, Shidou launched himself forward.
“Ryusei—!” Sae followed immediately, his blade already drawn.
The demon moved faster than expected, muscles rippling beneath its pale skin. Shidou’s blades clashed against its torso, sparks flying. But then—the ground shifted, and something sticky and cold latched around Shidou’s arms.
“Uh-oh. A spider!” Shidou grunted, twisting, but the threads tightened. His limbs locked. I can’t move! He’s gonna skewer me!
The demon raised a massive fist—its blow aimed to crush him.
Sae’s eyes flared. “Ryusei!”
He moved before thinking. The demon’s punch collided with Sae’s blade instead, the steel shrieking under the force. Sae’s body trembled from the impact, but he twisted his wrist, slashing through the threads holding Shidou captive in one clean motion.
Shidou fell back, free, gasping. Sae didn’t even look at him—his focus was still locked on the enemy. “Ryusei. To beat this demon, we have to combine our strength. Cooperate. This one time—let’s fight together.”
Shidou scowled. “You say cooperate, but you jump in front! I won’t let you embarrass me anymore!”
Sae didn’t glance back. “Then go over me.”
In the same breath, Sae pivoted—his heel striking the demon squarely in the chest, sending the massive creature staggering backward.
Shidou’s grin spread wide. “Fine by me!”
He sprang off Sae’s shoulder, blades gleaming in both hands. The world blurred as he descended, shouting with exhilaration—
“Beast Breathing—Sixth Form!”
Two clean slashes crossed the demon’s torso, cutting through its thick arms. Flesh split. Blood sprayed. Both of the demon’s limbs fell heavily to the ground.
From below, Sae shouted up at him, “Jump, Ryusei! Jump!”
Sae’s body spun in the air, upside down—both legs suspended high, his head pointing toward the earth. For a heartbeat, gravity and motion balanced on the edge of control. Total concentration, he thought, his breathing steady even as blood roared in his ears. Water Breathing: First Form—Striking Tide!
The air cracked as he twisted mid-fall, sword cutting through the air in a smooth, fluid arc. “Kesagiri,” he murmured. The blade sang—a single, clean note—and its pressure burst outward, pushing against the wind itself.
Below him, Shidou was already in motion. The moment Sae’s blade passed, it shifted the current of air, creating a small vacuum. Sae’s form was perfect—his posture, his precision—his body flowed like water. The motion carried Shidou upward in its wake, launching him into the air.
Shidou’s eyes widened as his feet left the ground. Damn. What’s with him?! he thought, anger and awe clashing inside his chest. I’m so mad! Does everything have to go his way?! His teeth clenched, but there was no denying it—the way Sae moved wasn’t arrogance. It was inevitability. He acts like it’s inevitable… like water flowing down a river’s course!
Up in the air, Shidou twisted his grip on his katana. He isn’t trying to be the guy up front, Shidou realized. He’s watching the flow of the battle—the whole battle.
Sae’s words echoed in his memory: “Slash from the right side of the base of the neck through the left armpit.”
Shidou growled, his body spinning. The blade traced that exact path—right side, neck to armpit—ripping clean through the demon’s flesh. A wet tearing sound followed by a hollow groan echoed through the forest. The demon froze, its massive frame quivering before beginning to crumble. Dark ash scattered, carried away by the forest breeze.
Sae landed lightly, his breathing steady as he sheathed his sword. He nodded once—barely noticeable, but it was there. The fight was over.
But Shidou wasn’t done.
Before Sae could even turn, Shidou shouted, “I can do anything you do, Lashes!” and rushed toward him, recklessly grin wide across his face.
“Wait—Ryusei—!”
Too late. Shidou grabbed Sae by the waist and, with explosive strength, threw him upward—hard. The air whooshed around Sae as he was sent soaring into the canopy, leaves spiraling in his wake.
---
The spider demon mother's hands trembled. Her face twisted between fear and something else—longing, maybe. That demon lost! He lost! she thought, panic clawing through her. But that one… was my fastest and strongest! Her fingers clenched around invisible strings. Why did Naruhaya have to threaten me? So upsetting…
Her body shuddered as she felt a new presence above her. The air shifted—cold and sharp. Her head tilted up, and her eyes went wide.
High above, cutting through shafts of sunlight, Sae descended—blade first, eyes calm and resolute. Sae was midair, his body poised between breath and motion, the moon glowing behind him like a silent witness. Silver light traced his blade’s edge as he steadied his breathing. His mind sharpened, calm and unwavering. First form… he thought, before descending like water flowing from the heavens.
Above me…! she realized. He’s going to cut off my head!
Terror flashed—and then, unexpectedly, peace. Her shoulders loosened, and her lips curved into a faint, almost tender smile. But dying will free me, she thought. I’ll finally be at peace.
She raised both arms toward the sky, surrendering.
Sae’s eyes widened slightly mid-descent. He felt it—the absence of malice, the surrender in her body. His grip tightened on his hilt. No resistance…?
His breathing shifted, soft and measured. Water Breathing: Fifth Form—Blessed Rain After the Drought.
The blade moved like falling water—gentle, silent, inevitable. A single, graceful arc. The sword passed through her neck as though slicing through mist.
The demon mother’s head fell lightly to the forest floor, landing without a sound. Her expression was serene—peaceful, even.
Sae landed, his knees bending as he exhaled slowly. He looked back at the fallen demon, his sword still in hand.
With the Fifth Form, he thought, the slain barely feels a thing. It’s only used when the opponent offers no resistance…
His eyes softened slightly, almost imperceptibly. A merciful sword stroke.
The demon spider mother thought weakly as her vision blurred, It feels like standing in a gentle spring rain… It doesn’t hurt, not even a little. There is no suffering. It’s simply warm. I never expected such a gentle death. Now… I am free. Her severed head drifted downward, silver moonlight softening her fading form before it touched the earth.
---
A shrill, pained scream tore through the dark forest—“Gyaaah!” Blood trickled from the demon spider mother’s left eye as she clutched her face in agony. Looming before her was a tall, muscular demon—her husband, the spider demon father. His expression was twisted with fury, threads of silk glinting between his fingers. The trembling woman fell to her knees.
“I’m sorry… I apologize,” she cried, voice cracking. “Please forgive me! What is he angry about? What don’t you like?”
From above, a calm, cold voice descended like the whisper of steel. Naruhaya—stood lightly upon a silken string, his pale eyes glinting faintly in the gloom. “Your offense,” he said, each word sharp as a knife, “is not knowing why he’s angry.”
The woman flinched, shaking. “But… but…”
A rustle in the bushes made her freeze. Then, a childish laugh echoed—a chilling, echoing giggle. A small boy with a spider’s body and a human face crawled out, his expression bright with cruel amusement. “Dad’s angry at Mom again! Hee hee!”
The father’s expression twisted darker. With a brutal motion, he grabbed the mother by her hair, yanking her upward as she whimpered. Her legs kicked helplessly in the air.
Up in the trees, the demon spider sister sat quietly, legs drawn to her chest, eyes void of emotion as she watched the scene unfold like a nightly ritual.
---
Sae stood in the aftermath, his sword gleaming faintly under the moonlight as the demon spider mother’s head slowly crumbled to dust. His gaze softened—not pity, but a quiet, somber acknowledgment.
Her fading thoughts echoed one last time. Those eyes… kind eyes… practically transparent… I bet when someone looked into him lovingly… that… seems familiar… who was it? I don’t remember…
For a fleeting moment, an image flashed in her dying mind—a faceless boy smiling, a hand drenched in blood—and then everything faded to black.
Her last, trembling whisper escaped the dissolving lips:
“...The Twelve Kizuki are here… so beware…”
Her head dissolved completely, leaving only her tattered kimono fluttering against the cold forest floor.
Sae’s eyes narrowed. The Twelve Kizuki… here, in these mountains? His mind raced. Their blood contains a high concentration of Iglesias’s power. If I can obtain it… I can get closer to restoring Rin’s humanity.
He turned, quiet and resolved, and made his way back to Shidou.
“Did you defeat her, pretty boy?” Shidou asked, half-grinning, though his arms and torso were slashed with deep cuts.
Sae nodded, frowning at his injuries. “Are you all right, Ryusei?”
“What?” Shidou smirked. “You want a cuddle, lashes?”
Sae clicked his tongue in irritation. Shidou continued, laughing, “Okay, got it! I can do anything you can do! Pretty soon my head’ll be harder than yours! And—”
But Sae barely heard him. His gaze was distant. Those wounds… terrible. And I couldn’t save the others either… The memory of the mother demon lingered—the scent of fear, despair, and resignation thick in the air. She wanted death. What kind of curse twists demons to this point? The Twelve Kizuki… could a clan of demons truly live on this mountain?
Shidou kept talking, his teasing tone fading against Sae’s silence.
---
Aiku crept through the forest, katana drawn, his eyes darting between the shifting shadows. The air was thick with moisture and decay, every sound sharpened by the eerie quiet.
I still can’t find either Sae or Shidou… Where did they go? Which way? His brow furrowed as he sniffed the damp air. It stinks around here. The skittering sound those spiders make… it’s disgusting. I know they’re just trying to survive, but still…
Something rustled to his right.
Aiku turned—and froze.
There, crouched on a web-covered log, was a spider the size of a cat. Its long, thin legs twitched silently, glistening with sticky silk. But it wasn’t the size that made Aiku’s stomach turn—it was the face.
The creature’s body was that of a spider, but its face was unmistakably human—bald, with a few wiry strands of hair clinging to its scalp. The eyes were milky white, the mouth too wide, stretched in a trembling grin that whispered like wet paper.
It tilted its head at Aiku.
Aiku’s hand tightened on his blade. His heartbeat quickened.
This mountain… really is hell.
Aiku’s breath caught in his throat as he froze, staring at the grotesque thing before him. The faint moonlight filtering through the trees made the creature’s pallid, human-like face glisten with a wet sheen, its milky eyes twitching, mouth slightly ajar.
Is that even possible..? he thought, his mind blanking for a moment. That’s a human head! A human-headed spider. What the heck? Am I dreaming?
The creature tilted its head, the human face twitching as if trying to smile, though the gesture looked more like a spasm. Aiku took an involuntary step back, his stomach twisting. The air was thick with the stench of decay and rot. He could almost taste the sourness of death clinging to the damp wind.
“Nope,” Aiku muttered under his breath, his hand tightening on his katana. “Not dealing with this.”
He turned sharply and bolted through the undergrowth. His heart hammered against his ribs as he vaulted over twisted roots and ducked beneath low branches. Forget it, he thought. It’s not worth finding out. I need to find Sae and Shidou. They’re what’s important. I need to know if they’re alive or not.
He sprinted deeper into the forest—until something ahead made him skid to a halt.
Hovering in the dim mist was a house suspended in midair, its structure dangling at a crooked, unnatural angle, held up by thick, white spider webs that stretched high into the canopy. The entire building creaked and swayed, its wooden frame warped and dripping with strands of silk.
Aiku’s eyes widened. “What… the hell…”
All around the hanging house were bodies.
They were suspended in the air, cocooned in spider silk—some twitching faintly, others hanging lifeless. Two of them had faces identical to the spider-human creature he’d just seen, half-transformed, their distorted human mouths moving soundlessly as if muttering prayers or screams. One body, however, caught his attention—it wore a demon slayer’s uniform. The slayer’s face was still human, still intact, eyes closed as though he had simply fallen asleep.
Aiku’s chest tightened. What? Humans turning into spiders?
Then his gaze lifted back to the crooked house. A floating house?!
Something gleamed faintly from within, catching his eye—a flicker of steel, maybe. But before he could take a step closer, a foul, suffocating stench hit him so hard his throat seized up. He gagged, stumbling back, covering his nose.
I see something glinting… and it stinks! he thought, grimacing. That makes me remember something.. With a sensitive nose like Sae, he must be dead if he came this close! It smells so bad my throat hurts… it stings and it’s making my eyes water!
Then—a voice.
“Heh heh…”
Aiku’s blood ran cold. Slowly, he turned.
From the shadows behind a thick veil of webs emerged a monstrous figure—the demon spider brother. Only now, he was far larger. His massive spider body glistened, his human-like upper half pale and grinning, his white hair sticking up like broken needles.
Aiku clenched his teeth, stance lowering as he pointed his blade forward. “I’m not gonna have a conversation… with whatever you are.”
He pivoted, ready to run again. But before he could take two steps, that shrill, childish laugh echoed through the woods.
“Heh heh! It’s no use running. You’ve already lost!”
Aiku stopped. The tone sent a shiver crawling down his spine.
The demon spider brother’s grin widened unnaturally. “Look at your hand,” he said, tilting his head. “Heh heh heh!”
“What about my hand—” Aiku began, glancing down.
Then he froze.
His fingers had started turning purple. Veins pulsed and bulged beneath the skin, the flesh around his wrist swelling and hardening like it was being filled with poison—something that twitched.
Aiku’s breath hitched. “What… what is this?!”
The demon’s laughter grew louder, bouncing through the trees like cruel music.
“You were bitten, right? By a spider?” the spider demon brother crooned, voice gleeful. “That spider’s poison will make you a spider too! Heh heh! Heh heh heh heh!”
He leaned forward, his long, segmented legs bending at impossible angles, his fanged grin widening until it nearly split his face in half.
“In just a couple hours,” he hissed, “you’ll become my slave—crawling across the earth!”
Aiku stumbled back, his breath trembling, his eyes wide. He could feel it—the slow pulse of the venom burning under his skin, creeping up his arm toward his chest.
And behind that monstrous laugh, the entire forest seemed to come alive—every tree trembling with the faint, synchronized scratching of countless legs.
The demon spider brother’s grin stretched unnaturally wide, his sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight. From one of his hairy, chitin-covered hands, he held up a small, round pocket watch—its bronze casing dulled by time and web silk. Inside, the hands ticked faintly in irregular motions, a soft click-click-click echoing in the thick silence of the forest. A single strand of spider silk dangled from its side, glistening like a thread of fate.
“Look at this watch,” the demon said, his tone a twisted mockery of gentleness. His human face smiled while shimmering with malice. “Do you understand? When the big hand reaches here”—he pointed one spindly claw at a mark on the clock—“you will join the spiders. When it reaches here, your hands and feet will begin to tingle. When it reaches here...”
He shifted the hand slightly, his grin widening as his voice deepened. “You’ll feel dizzy and nauseous. And here…”—the claw moved again, scraping against the cracked glass—“you will feel intense pain. Your body will shrink… and you’ll lose consciousness. And when you wake up…”
He trailed off, the faint, guttural laugh that followed making the trees seem to shudder.
Aiku stood there frozen, eyes locked on the pocket watch as the rhythmic tick… tick… tick seemed to seep into his bones. His stomach twisted, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t death—it was torture stretched over time. A slow, deliberate decay.
He exhaled shakily, half a sigh, half a mutter. “I should’ve just stayed where I was… not worried about Shidou and Sae. Those two are strong—they can handle themselves.”
Aiku looked around quickly, then glanced upward. Maybe if he got higher, he could buy himself time. “All right… tree it is.”
He scrambled up the trunk, his breath ragged as he pulled himself onto a branch. Bark scraped his palms, and the burning sensation on his infected arm pulsed stronger now.
Below, the demon spider boy tilted his head, watching. Then, he started laughing again.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he cooed. “When the poison runs throughout your system, and you become a spider, your mind will be gone.”
Aiku looked down, glaring at him. “I don’t want that,” he snapped, his voice cracking slightly. “I bet you don’t even have any friends! People must hate you!”
The laughter stopped. The demon spider boy blinked, his expression faltering for the first time.
Up above, Aiku sighed and leaned against the trunk. Why did I even think climbing this stupid tree would save me? he thought bitterly.
And then—his mind drifted.
---
“Pull yourself together!” Nio shouted.
Aiku sat high up in a tree, swinging one leg over a branch. Below him stood his comrades—Darai, Hayate, Nio, Wakatsuki, Cho, and Teru—looking up at him with various degrees of annoyance and concern.
Darai crossed his arms. “Stop blubbering. Don’t run away, captain. There’s no point in such behavior.”
Aiku shook his head. “I can’t with this training anymore. It’s going to kill me.”
Nio called back, “This isn’t going to kill you. Get down here, captain!”
“Thank you, but no.”
Teru frowned. “Thanks for what, captain?”
“When I was drowning in debt,” Aiku muttered, “because I gave money to a girl I fell in love with—and she ran away with another guy—who helped me? You guys did! Maybe you were just buying my affection, but… still.”
He chuckled weakly. “You all trained with me to become swordsmen. I want to meet your expectations—but I can’t.”
Wakatsuki scowled. “Captain, without you, we’ll fail!”
“Don’t flatter me!” Aiku snapped. “I practice secretly, too! I barely even sleep. But I don’t get results. I’m too weak—”
And then lightning struck.
A blinding flash, a deafening crack. The tree splintered, and Aiku’s body was flung backward. His squad screamed his name.
What a miserable life, Aiku thought as he fell. Even the heavens want to strike me down.
---
Aiku clenched his fists. “I… had absolutely no faith in myself,” he whispered. “I always try to do a good job—but I get scared… and then I run away.”
He looked down at the demon, fury in his eyes. “I want to change! I want to be a better person!”
Then he screamed, voice raw with defiance and panic
“I’m working as hard as I can! But now I’m gonna turn into an ugly monster without any hair?! No way! It’s the last straw! How can I take this?!”
The demon spider boy twitched, confusion flickering in his many eyes. “What is with this guy?” he muttered.
Below, the human-faced spiders began to crawl up the tree, their pale limbs twitching. Aiku, panting, raised a trembling hand to his head—only to see strands of hair falling into his palm.
Is it… falling out already?
He froze.
He never even said anything about my hair falling out…
Then everything tilted. His breathing slowed. The ticking of that cursed watch echoed in his head.
And Aiku passed out—falling limp on the branch, his last thought full of bitter horror:
I’m going to be ugly… and alone.
The demon spider brother tilted his head, eight gleaming eyes narrowing as he watched Aiku’s limp body lying motionless on the tree branch. What’s up with him? he thought, disgust curling in his tone. Isn’t he a Demon Slayer sent here to kill my family? He just passed out? What a coward!
He clicked his mandibles, amused. “Pathetic,” he muttered. The branch creaked ominously—and then Aiku slipped. The demon spider brother’s grin widened. He’ll fall on his head and die! How ridiculous—
But before the thought even finished, Aiku’s lips moved faintly. His breathing steadied. His grip tightened around his sword’s hilt.
“Serpent Breathing: First Form — Winding Serpent Slash!”
In a sudden flash of motion, Aiku’s body coiled and twisted like a snake awakening from slumber. He spun through the air, his blade gleaming with deadly precision, slicing through the night. The demon spider brother’s eyes widened—his instincts screamed danger. He reacted, spewing a thick stream of purple, poisonous sputum from his mouth, the fumes sizzling against the air.
Aiku twisted midair, slipping through the deadly mist like water running through cracks. He landed soundlessly, crouched low, his blade poised forward, eyes burning with fierce clarity.
Twisting in midair to dodge..? the demon spider brother thought, stunned. Such a skillful move! He’s like a different person now…
The air filled with skittering sounds as the human-spider hybrids began crawling toward Aiku, hissing and screeching. “Get him!” the demon spider brother barked.
But Aiku pushed off the ground with fluid strength. His blade flashed again, sweeping the grotesque creatures aside.
“Serpent Breathing: First Form — Winding Serpent Slash!”
Again and again, the same technique—but each stroke grew sharper, more refined, more alive. The demon spider brother sneered. Ha! He strikes the same pose every time. Obviously… he only knows one technique!
Inside his fading consciousness, Aiku’s mind drifted to a memory—his comrades’ voices echoing through his thoughts.
“Okay, Captain! You managed to learn one, and that’s something,” Teru had said.
Nio grinned, admiration bright in his eyes. “You truly are amazing, Captain!”
Hayate’s tone was firm, resolute. “If you can only do one thing, then do it superbly! Polish it to the utmost of the utmost!”
Aiku’s breathing steadied. No… until this moment, I only mastered one form, he thought faintly. But maybe that’s enough.
“Do you know how to forge a katana, Captain?” Darai had once asked.
Cho had laughed softly. “You strike it and strike it to drive out impurities. That’s what makes it strong.”
Aiku smiled weakly. Is that why they hit me every day in training? To drive out my impurities? I’m not steel… I’m flesh and blood.
The demon spider brother’s laughter rang out. “Heh heh heh… this fool is nothing! The poison’s already spreading. You’ll be mine soon.”
But Aiku’s body didn’t falter. His eyes snapped open, fierce and unwavering.
“Master it, Captain. You may cry and run… but never give up. Become a blade stronger than anyone!”
Aiku raised his sword once more—his stance unwavering, his spirit burning brighter than ever before.
Aiku’s vision blurred slightly. His breath came ragged and uneven, his pulse pounding painfully in his temples. The poison had already begun to work its way through his veins, burning like liquid fire. The edges of his haori were ripped and stained, but he still stood firm, katana steady in his hand. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, the practiced flow of a Demon Slayer breathing through the pain. From behind his lashes, his eyes tired yet unwavering watched the demon spider brother’s every move.
Aiku’s memory surfaced again, faint and flickering like a dream. A voice echoed from the depths of his mind calm yet firm. You must master... a single thing. The words were a memory of his training, a reminder of what had shaped him into who he was now. But before he could sink deeper into that thought, the demon spider brother opened his mouth wide and released another stream of thick, bubbling poison that hissed through the air like a whip.
The attack was fast, but Aiku was faster. He leapt aside, his haori flaring out as the poisonous liquid grazed only the edge of the fabric, eating away at the torn cloth. His landing was rough, but precise. Before he could catch his breath, the swarm of human spiders twisted abominations with limbs bent at unnatural angles leapt at him again, their needle sharp tongues extending, their hollow eyes reflecting the faint moonlight.
Aiku gritted his teeth. The poison is working. I'm in pain. My hands and feet are tingling. I'm slowing down. Now, the pain will increase... and I'll be nauseous and dizzy. His mind spun back again to the voices from his past.
Teppei’s harsh words rang out, as clear as the night wind. "Get lost. You hear me, right? Aren't you embarrassed? They all look up to you. But you are actually weak. Loser!" His memory showed a peach flying through the air, hitting his head. "Why are you even here?! Why do you haunt this place?!" Those memories used to hurt him, used to break him down, but now they only fueled him. He remembered the others Miri, Yuto, Kiyoshi, the people who had once believed in him. The people who saw worth where others saw none.
The demon spider brother shouted in frustration, “Stab him! Inject more poison!” One of the human spiders opened its mouth and extended its tongue long, glistening, and tipped with a needle like point. It lunged toward Aiku. He dodged again, but blood poured from his lips, splattering onto the ground.
The demon spider brother smirked cruelly. He can’t move anymore. But because of all that running around, he’s puking blood. He might die before he becomes a spider. Oh well... Even if he does, he won’t be of any use. He’s bad raw material.
But Aiku did not fall. The human spiders clung to him, biting into his torn clothes, yet one by one they began to drop lifelessly to the ground. The air around him began to vibrate, rippling as if the wind itself feared to move. His grip tightened on his sword, his stance shifting.
The demon spider brother’s eyes widened. What?! The very air is vibrating!
Aiku’s voice was steady, calm, and cutting through the stillness. “Serpent Breathing: First Form... Winding Serpent Slash.”
His blade curved gracefully through the air, slicing in a spiraling arc that glimmered in the faint moonlight. The demon spider brother barely had time to release another cloud of poison before Aiku’s strike reached him. In a single, elegant motion, the demon’s head was severed.
The demon spider brother’s world tilted. Was I cut? Me? Cut... by him?! His body fell backward, the spider like torso collapsing with a heavy thud, and his severed head rolled across the dirt, eyes wide in disbelief.
Aiku landed on the floating house’s roof, the wood beneath him creaking faintly. The moon hung behind him, full and pale, painting him in a silver glow as he whispered, Time to dream. A happy dream. I’m strong. Stronger than anyone. I always help weak people and those in trouble. The time they spent teaching me was not a waste of time...
His eyes softened as he felt the exhaustion settle in. Now... I’m done for.
But from the depths of his memory came a familiar voice "Don’t give up. Use your breathing. Slow your heart rate. Slow down the poison even just a little... Even if it hurts, even if you suffer, don’t go down the easy path."
Aiku smiled faintly. They would pound me... and Sae would be disappointed.
---
Sae turned sharply, his teal eyes narrowing. “That sound... did something just strike?”
Shidou scowled. “How should I know?!”
Sae sniffed the air. “I don’t think I smell anything. But that awful stench is so strong, I can’t tell. Ryusei—”
“Haaah?!”
“I’m going to take a look over there.”
“Do whatever you want, pretty boy!” Shidou snapped.
Sae pointed down the mountain. “Ryusei, go down. You’re badly hurt.”
“I’m not hurt! I’m fine!”
Before either could continue, a rustle from the river drew their attention. The demon spider sister frail, terrified ran across the shallow water, crying out,“Father!”after noticing both Sae and Shidou.
Then, with a deafening crash, the river exploded upward as the massive demon spider father descended from above, his grotesque face twisted with rage, seven eyes glowing red. “Stay away... from... my... family!” he roared, slamming his fist into the riverbed. The water surged, crashing around Sae and Shidou as they leapt away, blades drawn, ready for another impossible battle.
Sae swung both of his swords with sharp precision, his expression focused and cold under the moonlight that gleamed faintly behind him. The water beneath his feet rippled violently as he leapt into the air, body twisting like a dancer in motion. Water Breathing. Second Form: Water Wheel, he thought, channeling his breathing into his blade. The motion was fluid, elegant, and deadly. His katana sliced through the air in a perfect arc as he aimed straight for the demon spider father’s head. The attack met resistance with a heavy clang! The blade struck, biting into flesh, but not deep enough. The demon’s massive arm had intercepted the strike, and though it was gashed halfway through, it refused to yield.
Sparks flew, and Sae’s katana was stuck in the thick, sinewy limb. My blade... won’t cut through, he thought, eyes narrowing in frustration. His body froze for only a moment but that moment was enough for danger to come roaring toward him. Another massive arm swung from the side, aimed straight at his face.
But before it could connect, Shidou appeared, his movements wild and fast. “Haaah!” he roared, slamming his katana into the demon spider father’s arm, pinning it down against the ground with brute strength. Water splashed violently from the force. Both of Shidou’s katanas sank deep into the demon’s flesh, but even he couldn’t cut through completely. “He’s tough!” Shidou spat, struggling to wrench his blades free.
Their eyes met briefly. Sae’s cool determination against Shidou’s fierce glare. Without needing words, they both kicked off at the same time, their legs striking the demon’s massive abdomen. The blow wasn’t enough to hurt the creature, but it sent both slayers flying backward. They used the recoil to pull their blades free, flipping mid-air before landing. Sae on the river’s surface, his sandals barely disturbing the water.
Even using my forms, I can’t cut him, Sae thought, his grip tightening on his sword hilt. What should I do?
The demon spider father growled, his seven eyes glinting with fury. “Stay... away... from my family!” he bellowed, the sound echoing through the forest. He lunged at Sae, the water erupting beneath his massive weight. Sae dashed backward, his movements swift and deliberate. The demon’s enormous fist slammed into the river where Sae had stood a heartbeat ago, sending waves splashing outward.
From behind, Shidou lunged in with a fierce shout. “Gyaaah!” His blades sliced the air, but the demon spider father was ready. One arm swung out like a battering ram, catching Shidou mid-charge and slamming him into the ground with a thunderous crash. The earth split beneath the impact.
Water Breathing. Second Form: Improved... Lateral Water Wheel, Sae thought, eyes flashing as he turned to the side. His blade cut horizontally, slicing through the trunk of a nearby tree. The sound of wood snapping filled the air as the massive tree began to topple. Shidou groaned, staggering to his feet. I wasn’t strong enough! He knocked me for a loop with one arm!
The falling tree came crashing down, landing directly on the demon spider father’s back and forcing him into the river. The monster let out a furious growl. Shidou blinked, shocked, then grinned. Did he cut down that tree?! He’s damn good!
Sae didn’t hesitate. Total concentration... Water Breathing. Tenth Form! he thought, his breathing steady and sharp. But before he could strike, the demon spider father lifted his head again, muscles bulging as he grabbed the massive fallen tree with both hands.
“Look out!” Shidou shouted, trying to get up. His knees gave way, blood dripping from his side. Uh-oh! I’m weak from blood loss!
The demon spider father swung the tree like a club, hurling it toward Sae. Sae lunged forward, but in that instant, he saw the attack coming. He kicked off the air itself, using his legs to push against the incoming trunk. His blade absorbed some of the blow as he twisted upward. The impact sent him flying, soaring high through the moonlit sky.
“Laaaashes!!” Shidou shouted, watching helplessly.
I absorbed the blow with the hilt of my katana, softening the shock to my body... and used my legs to jump up... but it didn’t lessen the impact, Sae thought, his body aching as he flew through the night air. The moon glowed behind him, his silhouette cutting through the clouds.
He turned his head and shouted down to his partner, “Ryusei, be careful! That’s one of the Twelve Kizuki! I’ll be back as soon as I can! Just don’t die! Whatever you do... don’t die!”
Shidou looked up at him, his breath ragged, watching Sae disappear into the distance.
---
Aiku lay on the floating house roof, barely conscious. Getting harder to breathe... I’m sorry... Sae... Shidou... His eyes fluttered open weakly. Suddenly, a butterfly drifted down, glowing softly beneath the moonlight. Even the human spiders below paused to look.
The butterfly shimmered, transforming into a graceful figure descending gently through the air. Aiku squinted. Who... is that?
The figure landed lightly. Mikage Reo, the Insect Hashira, his beauty almost unreal under the moonlight. He smiled warmly. “Hello there! Are you okay?”
---
Sae twisted midair, controlling his descent. Water Breathing. Second Form: Water Wheel! he thought, spinning once before landing perfectly on the water’s surface. His breath steadied, but then his expression froze.
Before him, the demon spider sister knelt on the ground, her face covered in blood. “Gyaaah! Aaah!” she screamed, clutching her face in agony. Standing in front of her was Naruhaya, who turned to look at Sae with cold eyes. “What are you looking at? This isn’t a stage show.”
At Naruhaya's hand was a spider web, the thread connecting to his fingers.
Notes:
Sorry for not posting in a while! Like always, this chapter ended up pretty long. I might not post as often from now on, especially next year because school is going to keep me really busy.
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