Chapter Text
Muichiro was hungry.
Muichiro was hungry.
Muichiro was hungry.
Muichiro was so, so hungry.
Hunger twisted into his stomach, cramping and burying itself inside. It gnawed at him, and Muichiro felt first-hand how demons were when they were starving. It was as if his body was being stabbed over and over again, until a dizzying sensation arose. He didn’t want to eat, but apparently he had to.
Trying to keep himself true to his will, Muichiro tried to avert his focus on other things. There was a person next to him. Muichiro already had a clue who it was, so their identity didn’t matter much.
The distant figures that stood at the mouth of the cave were a nice distraction. Okay, maybe not nice, but they were a distraction.
Until a pang shook through Muichiro again.
But who were they?
They exuded a presence of power, but it seemed…reserved. Like they weren’t really trying.
They had the same sort of aura of the nearby person, only milder.
There was some sort of commotion (during which there was a fast movement, so fast he barely saw it), so Muichiro squinted, then stopped.
He blinked. Again. And again. And one last time.
The motion felt strange, and Muichiro felt a sickening sort of dread in his being.
Finally remembering a bit of what had happened the last time he was conscious, Muichiro jerked upright. Running a hand over his face, he felt…growths. That was the best word to describe them.
Curiosity won and he dug a finger into one, hissing as some of his vision flashed and pain erupted in his eyes.
?
Could it be…?
Horror instantly swelled up inside of him, as did hunger pangs—a harsh reminder.
Oh.
That’s right.
He wasn’t human anymore.
He was a demon now, a flesh eating monster.
But maybe he wouldn’t have to be.
He would resist.
He had to.
The Kamado girl did, so he could too.
That’s what Muichiro told himself as nausea overtook him, eating at him until he was biting at his own tongue to make it stop.
There was a flash of fear at what was to come next, but Muichiro buried the feeling immediately.
Such emotions did nothing to help him now, so he wouldn’t let them take root in his heart.
Yelping as a cold hand closed against one of his wrists ( something about that fact seemed wrong ), he was pulled upward.
Muichiro staggered, unsteady on his feet before he was released, falling again to meet the ground.
There was a sigh from above, as if annoyed, before the being left and Muichiro was left alone.
For now, anyway.
It felt like he was missing something, a crucial part of the story…
Something to do with demons…demons! The Demon Slayer Corps! That’s what he was forgetting!
He fought a demon—Upper Moon One ( ! )—and he was brought to a cave before being turned.
He had to make it back now.
Now.
Before it was too late, and he would succumb to his instincts.
—
Kokushibo gazed in contempt at a human he had found stumbling around in the forest.
The pitiful man had collapsed to his knees, begging for mercy when he caught sight of Kokushibo. And then he started screaming.
This was why he so rarely ate humans, instead eating demons that challenged him or otherwise displeased him. Kokushibo had to resist the urge to sigh, reminding himself that it was all for his descendant.
But would his kin even appreciate the effort?
And would he still have his will intact?
Kokushibo had thought they were alike in more ways than one, but maybe his loyalty to the Corps was stronger. Stronger than his own, anyway. But it was all worth it. Yoriichi was dead, and Kokushibo was living and thriving . Maybe he still hadn’t surpassed his younger brother, but with a little more time he would, after all he had all the time in the world.
Another shriek pulled him out of his thoughts, and Kokushibo’s eyes narrowed as his patience thinned. There was no point in letting the man live, so Kokushibo slashed his claws around the other’s neck. With a gurgle and a spurt of blood, his victim collapsed forward.
His descendant deserved a better meal, but he couldn’t find any other choices in this vicinity, and time was ticking while Muichiro was starving—he must be so weak at this state, even collapsing when Kokushibo tried to pull him up. Which brought up the question, would it take long to restore his talents? What would his Blood Demon Art be? Would—
At any rate, he was bound to be hungry.
Grabbing the man and tossing him over his shoulder, Kokushibo ran back to the cave.
Miles blurred due to his speed, the pleasant wind rushing in his face, and it wasn’t the first time Kokushibo was grateful for his identity as a demon.
Glancing around to make sure he wasn’t being followed like last time (he was so distracted with his descendant’s transformation, he barely noticed. It meant nothing—the perpetrators got their punishment), Kokushibo entered the cave like countless times before.
What greeted him was a snarling, writhing newly-turned demon.
Walking up to his descendant, Kokushibo pushed the newly-cooling corpse in front.
As Upper Moon One expected, Muichiro immediately flipped to all fours like an animal, and Kokushibo could finally see the extent of his turning.
His descendant’s face had, surprisingly, changed.
Instead of two eyes, he now had four. His Mark had remained the same, except now it wrapped around his neck and arms—which were now intact and unharmed, and Muichiro had a horn on the left side of his face. His sclera was now black, and his pupils were now cyan.
His hair was different too. The black part looked normal enough, but the turquoise tips swirled even though the wind’s power wasn’t that strong.
It was as if Muichiro’s very existence changed, and Kokushibo felt the urge to rub his eyes. No—it wasn’t a trick of the light—it was as if his shape was blurry .
Well, it looked as if the transformation was complete, and more importantly, successful.
Muzan-sama had accepted Muichiro.
Of course, Kokushibo never felt doubt in his old heart, but it was reassuring nonetheless.
(In a way, it’s almost like Muichirou inherited most of his traits from Kokushibou. Kokushibou would never admit this to anyone, but he likes it.
Of course, he’s aware that Muichirou had no part in his own transformation and appearance, but it’s nice to think that their shared blood is made more obvious.
And again, Kokushibou would never admit this to anyone, but he likes how his family’s and his appearances bind them together.)
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