Chapter Text
The screams of demons were never your favorite.
It’s already a chore to collect their blood, but the fact that you have to kill them to get the job done made the feat all the more tedious. You’re not really a fan of disposing of them, but it’s the least you could do to repay Tamayo for her kindness.
As the fox demon you’d just put out of misery moments ago laid limp on its side, you took out the special syringe given to you prior to your departure from your hideout in Asakusa. You knew the drill: kill a demon that’s of a different species from the last one you hunted, collect its blood, and wait for Chachamaru to retrieve the sample.
Once the syringe was buried in its discolored flesh, it extracted just the right amount from the fallen demon. Sighing, you took a moment to stare at its lifeless form that’s slowly fading away, leaving a trail of ashes in its wake. The fact that this…thing used to be a human being hovered over your head like a harsh reminder that you didn’t really want to dwell upon on most days. Remembering what they used to be only made your job harder.
“I’m doing this for you,” you spoke as if it still had the means to respond. “Once Tamayo-san finds a cure, you lot will be free of that damn curse.”
A soft breeze blew past in the following moment. You let out a tired sigh as you wiped the blood off your sword with a flimsy piece of cloth you produced from your jeans. Hmm. You wondered what Yushiro was going to prepare you for dinner tonight. Donburi? Even if he’s a demon, the guy makes a mad rice bowl—
All of a sudden, you’re alerted by the presence of another person in the vicinity. There’s nothing particularly malicious about the aura you’re picking up, but it’s enough to unsettle you. That’s odd. You made sure to chase the fox deep enough in the forest so that no one in the city could pick up on what you were up to.
Frowning, you fumbled for your phone in the pocket of your jacket to check the time. Chachamaru didn’t usually take too long to show up.
With vigilant eyes, you slowly made a move to sheathe your sword should you have to make a run for it. But before you could even do so, a swift figure emerged from the trees above. His entrance caught you off guard and you ended up stumbling on the ground.
"Whoa!"
The sound of your sword skidding away from you was deafening as you scooted away from the man whose killing intent was practically oozing out of his person. How did he mask that from you? White noise rang in your ears as he stared you down with mesmerizing yet indifferent eyes; each step he took closer, a testament to what's coming.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck . Am I going to die for real?
You couldn't help but cringe when the leaves around the forest clearing were trampled underneath his boots. Your line of sight went from the lowly demon you were extracting blood from, to the slayer that's glowering at you with a promise of pain. His katana glinted in the waning sunlight that filtered through the thicket of trees, making you wonder how the hell he even discovered your location. You weren't exactly the most remarkable swordsman during your time in the Demon Slayer Corps but you knew how to conceal your presence when needed.
For some reason, the man's distasteful expression morphed into something calmer—confusion, perhaps? Nonetheless, the crease in his brow remained as he surveyed the area with keen-looking eyes. Those ocean blues darted around with discernment but once he confirmed that you're of no threat to him, he sheathed his katana back inside the scabbard strapped to his waist.
But still. Even if he put away his own weapon, that didn't ease your frayed nerves.
"What are you doing?" he intoned rather passively, nodding his head at the fox demon that's bleeding out underneath the shadow of a tall tree.
In lieu of an actual response, however, you clicked your tongue before darting towards your own sword. A jet black button-up? A Nichirin sword? Like hell you were going to sit down and have a chat with someone from the organization you deserted!
Yet again, the man exhibited a show of skill by displacing himself at lightning speed. Before your fingers could even grasp the hilt of your sword, he was already stepping on the blade, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What are you doing?" he repeated.
"Fuck off," you hissed, catching him off guard by sweeping his legs off the ground with your own foot. The slayer lost his footing for a fraction of a second, his eyes widening with surprise. But like all skilled swordsmen, he's quick to regain his composure and used his position mid-air to land a kick across the side of your neck.
Your mind blanked for a moment at the impact, but your eyes could only focus on the familiar cat that's giving you a dirty look all the way from where the demon was beginning to fade into ashes. Chachamaru took the blood extractor you accidentally left inside the demon's neck with his mouth and, from the look in the feline's amber eyes, you could only wonder how long Yushiro was going to scream your head off for being careless with Tamayo's syringes.
If you get back, that is.
This is okay, you told yourself as Chachamaru faded into the shadows with the help of the talisman strung around his neck. As long as the sample gets delivered, it's perfectly okay if I die here.
"I will only ask you one more time." The slayer joined you on the ground, posing as if ready to unsheathe his katana once again. "What are you doing?"
"What's it to you? Demons die every day."
He scrutinized your answer for a moment before saying, "You're not one of us."
You swallowed thickly, deciding at the last minute to just carry on your act. "I have a Nichirin sword. Isn't that proof enough?"
His mouth downturned into an obvious grimace, but instead of taking his sword out to decapitate you like you expected him to, the slayer began pulling up the sleeve of his button-up. (What was he even doing?) But once he exposed the skin of his forearm, the he squeezed it hard enough that the veins in his hand bulged.
The Wisteria Family crest slowly painted itself on his pale flesh, along with the mark of the Water Pillar.
"You're from the Wisteria family?" you asked, voice coming out more breathless than you thought. No...that can't be. You haven't seen this man in your life. And there were no Breath of Water users in the history of the Wisteria clan. He couldn't be part of—
"All members of the Demon Slayer Corps are mandated by Oyakata-sama to have the crest inked on their bodies. It's to confirm that a person is a bonafide member." His blue eyes narrowed once more as he released his arm—both the crest and mark disappearing at the loss of his firm grip. "You should have been aware of that information if you really were one of us."
Damn it. Of all the places Yushiro could have told you to hunt, it just had to be in some slayer’s turf! Just before you could let yourself be devoured by the fear of getting killed by this man for curving the truth, an angry caw distracted you from your thoughts.
"The fugitive, Wisteria (Name) is to be brought under custody!" A lone crow screeched in the twilight, its shrill voice grating at your ears. "I repeat, Oyakata-sama has ordered the fugitive, Wisteria (Name) to be brought under custody! Tomioka Giyuu is to escort her to Headquarters immediately! I repeat, Tomioka Giyuu is to—squawk!"
The crow only managed to dodge the rock you threw at it by a hair's width. In response, the slayer—who you assumed was Tomioka Giyuu—shot you a dirty look you chose to ignore as he pulled his sleeve back down.
"Why the hell are they still using these good-for-nothing crows?" you ranted, taking advantage of Tomioka's distraction to sheathe your sword in its scabbard. "Don't they use more advanced tech these days? What are those called again? Drones?"
"Tomioka Giyuu!" the crow raged on, flying lower so it could peck you. "You're to arrest this fugitive and kill her on the spot!"
"Hey! That wasn't what you said earlier, you pest!"
"Oyakata-sama will have no use for a barbarian like you! Fugitives are better off dead anyway!”
With its beak beginning to nick your skin with cuts, you harshly grabbed the crow by its neck. The shriek it unleashes reverberated across the surrounding area, disturbing some of the birds perched atop the nearby trees. A litany of curses spilled from your lips as you tried to make the stupid crow shut up permanently, but before you could even get close to your goal, the sound of a sword being unsheathed cuts through the undisturbed silence of the forest.
“If you let go of the crow and come peacefully, your life will be spared,” Tomioka imposed with a monotone so serious, you actually shivered with anticipation. The feel of the tip of his katana grazing the nape of your neck made the threat all too real, and you didn’t have the energy to fight for your own freedom at the moment either.
Tamayo-san, forgive me. I know I just promised to keep out of trouble two days ago, but now I ran into the last bunch I’d want to encounter.
You sighed, easing your grip on the crow, who immediately slipped out of your grasp. It hopped unsteadily on the ground before glaring at you with its beady eyes.
“So,” you began, turning around carefully to face the man holding you at sword-point. “Is this the part where I say ‘take me to your leader’?”
“Fugitives have no right to talk,” he deadpanned, forcibly digging his blade deeper into your skin.
Frowning, you told him, “You must be fun at parties—whoa! It’s a joke. A joke!”