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Chapter Text

As part of a set of promising new Demon Slayer recruits, you knew all the horror stories. The Flame Hashira, Rengoku Kyojuro, didn’t have a Tsuguko because anyone who trained under him inevitably ended up running away. 

“But, why?” you asked aloud. There were four of you in total, sitting together in an abandoned barn and eating around a small fire. 

“Duh. It’s because if you don’t run away, he’ll train you to death!” Hasegawa was young but had the appetite of five fully grown men. He shoveled his third helping of rice into his mouth as he spoke. 

“I heard that on the first day, he makes you run across a pit of spikes while laughing the whole time and chasing you!” Hosoi shivered, imagining it. “And if he catches you–!”

You grimaced. “I mean, compared to us, Rengoku-sama is really fast, I bet. Of course he’d catch you if he wanted to. So, what does he do then?”

Hosoi grinned. “I dunno! But I bet it’s awful!” 

Ito, who was usually quiet, piped up. “Flame Breathing is really hard on the body. I heard there haven’t been many users at all outside the Rengoku family.” 

“Hmmm.” You pondered for several seconds, watching the flickering campfire. “Why do you think the Flame Hashira agreed to train new recruits like us, then? If we’re all just going to fail or run away?”

“I’ve heard he’s really eccentric,” Ito replied quietly. So far, his remarks seemed to be the only ones of any merit, so you listened closely. “He never turns down a request for training, but…”

“Everyone definitely runs away!” shouted Hasegawa. “Or dies!” added Hosoi. 

“Well,” you said, standing up. “If we’re all going to die tomorrow, we should get some rest so we can at least put in our best efforts.” You retreated to a dark corner of the barn and started piling together some straw to make a bed to sleep on. Surely, there were many dangerous ways out there to train, especially for the Demon Slayer Corps. But the biggest mystery of all was that the most common rumor about Rengoku Kyojuro was that he was nice.  

He didn’t seem like the type to be murdering recruits, so you continued to wonder until you fell asleep. 

“Welcome!!!” Your group reached the training ground just after sunrise and the subject of all the rumors, the Flame Hashira, Rengoku Kyojuro himself greeted you in the flesh. His expression was dazzling, grinning with a set of very white teeth. The four of you bowed wordlessly.

“Introductions!” he boomed, planting his hands on his hips. “My name is Rengoku Kyojuro! I’ll be training you into fine warriors!” His eyes fell on you first. “Your name?”

“Kujaku _____, sir! I’ll be in your care!” You bowed stiffly, overwhelmed to be in the Hashira’s presence. 

“Kujaku, right! That’s a unique name! I’ll remember it!” Rengoku folded his arms over his chest. “Next!” 

Your three companions introduced themselves in turn, each looking like they’d already lost all their nerve. We haven’t even started doing anything yet…

“Alright!” Rengoku turned around. “Let’s enjoy a morning run to get the blood flowing. Follow me!”

And so, you ran. 

And ran. 

And ran. 

“I– I mean..” you panted, staggering up next to Ito, who looked as though he was about to pass out. “I guess this is one way we could die.” 

Ito coughed into his sleeve. “I think Hasegawa already ditched us.” 

“No way.” Your legs were screaming bloody murder. “There haven’t even been any spike pits yet.” 

Ito let out a pained laugh. “That’s Hosoi, with the spike pits.” 

“Oh, my bad. Hasegawa ran away already?? We’ve just been running? He’s not even chasing us or anything scary like that.”

“I think he just psyched himself out.” Ito wiped his face on his sleeve. 

You didn’t stop running for four hours. 

It was the “4444 Purgatory Routine.” Four hours of running, four hours of sword drills, four hours of muscle strength exercises, and four hours of breathing and flexibility exercises for four months, every single day. That was Rengoku’s simple routine, “nothing special” as he’d described it, and so far, everyone who had tried to complete the regimen ran away. 

The point was, as he’d described, to reach a state in four months where one could start learning how to use Flame Breathing. 

Sure enough, after just four days, only you and Ito remained. Even without the spike pits, Hosoi gave up quickly. 

Surely Rengoku knew when someone was going to drop out, but he made no effort to stop them. 

It was during the sword drills on Day 5 when he really talked to you for the first time. 

“Kujaku, you aren’t accustomed to using a katana, am I right?” Rengoku’s face suddenly materialized right in front of yours, just a few short inches away. You startled, stumbling backward to avoid accidentally hitting him with the sparring sword. He caught you easily, hand splayed against your lower back. A feeling like an electric shock erupted there and you bounced out of his grasp, breathing heavily.

“Sorry about that!” He apologized lightly. You shook your head, immediately ashamed for your disrespect. 

“No apology is needed, Master!” you exclaimed, bowing your head. “You are correct. My Nichirin Sword is a wakizashi.”

“Because your upper body strength is less?” he immediately deduced, peering in close to look at your exposed forearm. “Very dangerous to use a wakizashi to fight demons! You’d have to get in this close–” His face appeared right in front of you again, his nose almost touching yours. “–to cut its head off!” His grin widened and you held your breath, unable to react. 

“Close enough to kiss!” He laughed and stepped back, removing the katana from his own hip. “I want you to demonstrate how you use this katana. If you continue on with a wakizashi, you’ll be dead within the year. And that would be terrible!” He held out the katana for you to take. 

You let the katana drop into your hands. It was so heavy. With an uncertain expression on your face, you unsheathed it and assumed a stance. It felt almost like you were wielding an iron club, not a sword. Rengoku set up several straw targets for you to practice with. 

“Alright, Kujaku! Let’s see what you’ve got.” 

Huffing and puffing, you managed to slice them all with some relative accuracy, but the effort left you winded and disoriented. Rengoku strode over to you, hands on his hips.

“Yes, that was not bad, but surely you feel like saying something like, ‘Rengoku, you jerk, give me back my wakizashi already!’ Haha! Well, you’re never getting it back, so you can give that up! I’ll send a crow to have a full length katana forged for you. In the meantime, you will do your sword drills every day with that sword!”

And so, that was that. Rengoku, you jerk. 

That being said, in hindsight, you knew what he said was probably true. 

But Rengoku wasn’t a monster. In fact, he was far from it. Despite being a bit eccentric, he was likable and kind. On top of that, he made soundly sure of one thing above all, and that was that you ate three very large, nutritious meals each day. 

“Thank you for the food!” he announced as the three of you sat down to supper that evening. After the meal, there would still be four hours of flexibility and breath training. You sighed, knowing that the food wouldn’t sit well with your breathing exercises. But the quicker you ate, the quicker you could get it done with and get to what you wanted the most: your futon. You stuffed rice into your mouth reluctantly. 

The philosophy of this particular exercise was that if one has the opportunity to eat well, they should, and get stronger for it. There was no particular reason, at least in Rengoku’s mind, that starvation or malnutrition should be part of your training regimen, so every day, three times a day, there was a feast. 

At least the four hours of running came before breakfast. You couldn’t imagine keeping a breakfast down if you had to run for four hours afterward. Sword drills weren’t much of a better follow, though. Rengoku did not go easy on you or Ito, and you often found yourself beaten up six ways to Sunday before the sun was high in the sky. 

But Rengoku was never unkind and after every beating, there was a pep talk, a painkiller, and a practice session on how to be the one to deliver the beating next time. Except, the next time, you’d get a different beating. And then, there would be a pep talk again. Again, and again, the wheel turned round, and eventually, there were more spots bruised on your body than not. It was proper of him to never land a strike too high, though he encouraged you to target his neck each time. It was hilarious to even consider landing a strike on him anywhere; you couldn’t so much as swat at a strand of his trailing hair. 

After four weeks, you were starting to wonder if you should run away. 

It wasn’t like Rengoku was going to stop you. Curled deep in your futon, you considered the prospect. What would you do if you ran away? You supposed that you could become a mountain hermit. Subsistence living! It didn’t sound so bad. You weren’t as strong as Rengoku, but you were strong enough to get by on your own. Fight a few boars here and there, that kind of thing. It could be easy. Of all the rumors, the one that Rengoku was nice had turned out to be true, but you understood why everyone ran away. 

Rengoku was way too strong and it was disheartening. 

The idea of attaining even a quarter of his strength within a lifetime seemed laughable. There was just something in his blood that made him that way. The fact that barely any users of Flame Breathing existed outside the Rengoku family for generations was an additional deterrent. This breathing style could not be learned, only inherited. You were beginning to grasp that. 

While you were sure you were getting physically stronger, the daily sparring sessions with Rengoku had become the most punishing part of your training regimen, the other regular exercises just existing to irritate your wounds. Literally. 

You had become fairly certain that he was holding himself back exactly to the point at which he would just barely not break your bones. And then after you took whatever magnificent battering he had on offer that day, he’d help you up, dust you off, sit you on a rock, and coach you while applying a fresh poultice to whatever bump or bruise he’d just inflicted on you. 

The repetition of this particular pattern was threatening your resolve simply because whether it was four months, four years, or four centuries, you could imagine being sat on that rock every single day with no change at all. And it unnerved you a little that Rengoku seemed perfectly happy to continue doing so, possibly forever, never blaming you for your weakness or demanding anything better. 

Ito was more or less the same, though he didn’t talk about it that way. He still felt confident that he was getting stronger and would be able to go head to head one day with your master. But you didn’t quite have his level of optimism. 

So, back to the question of whether or not you should run away. You crawled out of your futon, letting the cool night air soothe your bruised legs. The small house you were staying in was on a large plot of land the Demon Slayer Corps used for training purposes, located in a remote, mountainous area with rocky soil. A large potato farm operated nearby. 

You slid the door open, peering out into the night. If you ran away, it wouldn’t be tonight. There was no moon and the way would be pitch-black. Sighing, you closed the door and rolled back into your covers. Why did you agree to come train under a Hashira, anyway? 

Ah, that’s right. It was flattery. It had been flattery that had convinced you! 

After wiping out half your unit, a demon with a long tongue that was as sharp as a razor had been taken down by your wakizashi and a stroke of pure and complete luck. The remaining members of your unit were so shaken and traumatized and grateful for their lives that they all sent their crows back to headquarters to sing your praises. 

And then, you’d been summoned, along with three other promising young recruits, to go receive “special training” under a Hashira. You’d become a Tsuguko if you measured up, you’d been promised, and become a Hashira reserve, fighting alongside the cream of the crop one day. 

But did it really matter to be the cream of the crop? You gripped your pillow tightly, the calluses on your fingers aching. 

No, you decided, it didn’t. Your mind was made up. You’d make your escape after a week, when there was enough moonlight by which to see your way. 

Cheered by this, you were able to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Never had a week gone by so slowly. 

Two days later, your hands decided to fully split open and you watched, almost boredly, as your calluses popped all at once and leaked red all over the grip of Rengoku’s famous fire-red sword. 

“Heh.”

So, for the first time, you were sat on the rock without having to get beaten up and Rengoku started to wrap your hands for you in bandages. 

“Flex your hand? Yes, like that.” He pulled the cotton taut around where your fingers joined your palm. “You’ll wear these until your hands heal. Though, they will come off after they heal since you should have some calluses.” Rengoku patted your hand before standing up and offering his usual unflinching smile. 

“Thanks, Master,” you replied dully. “Apologies for dirtying your sword.” 

“It’s of no consequence. I’ll be watching you spar with Ito today! Winner gets rice dumplings!” 

Oh boy, you did not want rice dumplings after the massive affair that had been breakfast that morning. Rengoku had not let you or Ito leave until each of you had ingested six bowls of rice porridge. 

“Make sure to tell Ito. He loooves rice dumplings,” you suggested in a flat voice, knowing that the battle would be for who got to lose rather than win. 

It turned out that you were a loser, even at losing. 

The prize turned out to be not three, not six, not twelve, but twenty-four whole skewers of rice dumplings, drenched in sweet soy glaze. 

“Haha! How’s that, Kujaku! Sometimes, the spoils of war can be sweet!” Rengoku clapped you on the back and your knees buckled. Suddenly, you had an idea.

“Master, it would be awful of me to sit and enjoy these alone while Ito continues to toil as he has been doing.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ito glaring daggers at you. You grinned innocently. “I insist we enjoy these together! The three of us! You’ve been working so hard, Master! Surely you deserve a small break!” 

Rengoku laughed loudly. “That’s very noble of you, Kujaku! I don’t see the harm in us having a short rest. Let’s do that.” 

Eight skewers was still an awful lot. Ito looked as though he was going to throw up. 

It was during the flexibility training that evening that you had the first chance in a while to have a good talk with Ito. 

“I have something to ask,” Ito said, groaning as you put your weight against his back, trying to fold him in two. “Do you feel like Master Rengoku stares at you a lot??”

You frowned, grunting as Ito did the same to you. “No? I’ve noticed him staring sometimes but then realized that he’s just spaced out with his eyes pointed in my general direction.” 

“Oh, I felt like his eyes were burning a hole in my head the other day but when I looked over, I think he was picking his nose.” 

“That’s a weird thing to notice, Ito. Why were you watching him pick his nose?”

“I wasn’t doing it on purpose! But then after he was done, he turned away and started staring at you. I don’t think he blinked at all. For like five minutes.”

You snorted. “You watched him for five minutes?”

“No! Well, yes. I was curious because all you were doing was your 1000 sit-up routine.”

“Yeah? I bet he was mesmerized by my rock-hard abs.” You slapped your stomach. 

Ito laughed. “There’s no way. You’re a jelly compared to him.” 

“After those rice dumplings earlier, I do not disagree.” You leaned to the side, wincing as your bruised ribs ached. “Hey, Ito, are you covered in bruises too, or is it just me.”

“Me too,” he grimaced. “It’s amazing how Master never quite hits the same spot twice. Look.” Ito pulled open his collar to show a large purple splotch on his chest. Vaguely, it looked like a pair of butt cheeks. “He hit me twice on two different days, one right next to the other, and they merged together and turned into an ass mark.”

“Wonderful,” you commended him. “I have a big bruise on my actual ass, wanna see?”

“What the hell? No. Wait, Master got you in the–” Ito froze, reaching back to feel something. “Ah, he got me, too.”

You sighed, focusing on your breathing. “Master always looks so happy about it, too. I kind of wonder if he just enjoys it.”

Ito sat down next to you, folding his legs. “I don’t really think he’s that kind of person.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t say that. He’s a nice fellow.” 

Yeah, Rengoku was a nice fellow. But still…

That wasn’t enough to deter you from your escape plans. Just five more days…

Two days later, your new katana arrived. 

The person who forged your sword for you was totally mute. When he’d delivered your wakizashi, he had seemed awfully consternated about something but you’d been unable to conclude what it was at the time. The only information you’d been able to fully ascertain was that his name was Tetsuya. The fact that he wore a mask did not help communications much. 

You were about to find out, though, the cause of Tetsuya’s consternation.

This time, still wearing the usual hyottoko mask, Tetsuya delivered a full length katana, not unlike the one you’d been practicing with that belonged to Rengoku. It had a plain hand guard, though, and a plain wrap. You did not care much for ornamentation, but that was reserved for the higher ranks, in any case. Without any additional ceremony, you unsheathed it, examining the blade. 

To your shock and surprise, the length of it started to turn color the moment you put your hand on the grip, the blade taking on a deep, reddish hue. Tetsuya started to applaud. 

“What??” you exclaimed, holding the katana away from you as if it were a snake. “Why’d it do that?!”

Rengoku came up behind you. “Ohhh!” he said, his voice cheerful. “Look at that! It’s red!”

You whirled around. “Master, is it supposed to do that?!”

Rengoku gave you a perplexed look. “Yes, what color was your old sword? Was it not red as well?”

You spluttered. “No, it was… Regular? Medium?! Normal! Silver?”

Rengoku turned his attention to Tetsuya. “Is this true?” Tetsuya nodded aggressively, gesturing avidly with his hands. 

“Hm… Hmmm… I see!” Rengoku’s eyes went wide. “Kujaku, all Nichirin Blades take on a certain color when their wielder develops a high enough level of sword skill! It seems that you did not have the skills needed to change the color in your sword before! Without a colored blade, you would not have what it requires to learn a breathing technique.” He paused. “I’m surprised you’re alive!”

You sank to your hands and knees in despair. You’d been even weaker than you’d thought! No wonder your training seemed like such a hopeless endeavor. 

“Don’t be sad, Kujaku!” Rengoku slapped you on the back, again causing your knees to buckle and nearly making you eat dirt. “You’re alright now! Look at your flame-red blade! It is just like mine!” Sure enough, Rengoku’s sword was famous for its flaming red color. 

“And I could not be more pleased as your master!” he added cheerfully. “I have never had the pleasure of training someone with a red blade! It means you have an affinity for Flame Breathing, and that is wonderful! The fact that you survived and made it here to my side must be fate. I must take even better care of you!” His voice was very loud and Tetsuya started clapping again, seemingly relieved. He must have been worried about you when your sword didn’t change color. You looked up at both of them, now extremely conflicted. 

“Hey! You have a red blade!” Ito appeared, wiping his sweat on a towel. “That’s a surprise!”

“What color is your sword, Ito?” Rengoku asked, placing his hands on his hips. 

Ito nodded. “It’s also red! How amazing, we all match.” 

Rengoku started laughing. “Well, I’m shocked! This whole time, I’ve been blessed to have both of you. I feel even more fortunate now. I know! Tonight, for dinner, we will have a feast!!”

Both you and Ito groaned. 

The seventh day arrived and the conditions were perfect. For your escape, that was. The moon cast just enough light to let you slip away unnoticed but also to be able to see your way in the dark. On top of that, Rengoku had just accepted a mission to hunt down a demon in an area relatively far from the training ground, leaving you and Ito to your own devices for a couple of days. 

You felt faintly guilty leaving Ito alone but he was stronger than you. He would be fine on his own until Rengoku returned. 

That brought your thoughts to Rengoku, your master himself. 

Looking down at your worn and bruised hands, you remembered the feeling as he’d unwrapped the bandages just that afternoon. He’d been gentle as he examined your fingers for any lingering open wounds. 

But then he’d sent you off to immediately break them in with 500 strokes of your new katana before dinner. 

Fingers still throbbing with a dull ache, you thought about the new red sword you’d been forced to look at for countless hours this past week, reminding you with every swing that you were suited to learn Flame Breathing from Rengoku, you were meant for it, and it was your destiny. 

It would be awfully nice to go become a mountain hermit. 

Why had you become a Demon Slayer, anyway?

There wasn’t any special meaning to it, really. In fact, your first encounter with an actual demon hadn’t been until the third day of the Final Selection. You’d lived a lucky, demon-free existence up to that point. In fact, you’d fully believed you were getting involved in some hoax cult until the demon was in your face and you’d had a terrible realization that it was not, in fact, a hoax.

The reasons for you joining were arrogant and you knew it– you were bored and wanted to get screwed up by something. Overall, your life lacked a sense of trauma. No passion. No drive. No motivation. There was just morning, noon, and night. 

You hadn’t changed. 

As you folded up your futon, the idea that you hadn’t changed made you stop. Hadn’t you changed after all you’d been through? 

The idea that you were the same and would be going back to the same paralyzed you. 

But wasn’t that what you were trying to escape? Being sat on that rock day after day with no sign of improvement, the evidence of your unchanging weakness stacking up on your body as visible, painful bruises. Rengoku’s never-changing smile, the same smell of the same poultice, just in a slightly different spot, day after day after day. You chased him relentlessly but he might as well be a ghost for how close you felt to ever landing a point on him. 

The idea of leaving, for some reason, left you with a bad feeling. 

Completely absorbed in your inner debate, you crouched in the open doorway for hours, futon folded neatly behind you. It didn’t even occur to you that someone was standing right in front of you until he stuck his face right in front of yours. 

“Waaa!” You scrambled backward, letting out a surprised shout. It was your master, returned from his mission. Rengoku just smiled at you, holding up a finger to his lips. 

“Sorry,” you whispered. “You surprised me. I didn’t expect you back so soon, Master.” 

Wordlessly, he handed you a fresh apple that you didn’t want. He sat down next to you in the doorway, still smiling. 

“Um.” You weren’t sure what to say.

“Were you going out for a walk?” he asked, looking at your feet. You’d already put on your shoes.

“Not really,” you replied hastily, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “Just running away.”

“Ah. I see.” 

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the partly obscured moon slowly inch across the sky. 

“Master?” You finally broke the silence, turning to look up at his face. The moon reflected in his glowing eyes mysteriously. You found yourself captivated.

“Hm?”

“Why do you think I’m so weak?”

Rengoku’s eyebrows raised. “I don’t think you’re weak at all, Kujaku,” he replied simply. “Why are you having those thoughts?” His eyebrows lowered again to crinkle in a concerned frown. “Is that why you were thinking about running away?”

You explained how you felt about the rock. 

“The rock is going to crumble before I ever get strong enough to land a point on you, Master,” you sighed. “I’m just going to be sat there every day and you’re gonna have to patch me up like that.” You scowled. “Aren’t you tired of me? Dawdling around, unable to take a step forward…”

Rengoku looked momentarily stunned but then he started to laugh. 

“Kujaku, you’re very hard on yourself,” he said gently. “We’ve been together only five weeks! If nothing else can prove to you that you are growing strong, just look at your sword! You were able to turn the blade red and the strength to do that doesn’t come from here.” He laid his hands on your forearms. “It comes from here.” He pointed a finger at your chest. He smiled at you and you felt suddenly bashful. 

“Strength comes in countless forms! For us Flame Breathing users, it comes directly from a cry of yearning, deep inside our souls. Our desires stir the flames in our hearts! For some, it is a yearning to save others! To defend our convictions! To protect our families! Or even to save ourselves! There are many ways to stir the spirit into action. For you, only you yourself can truly determine how best to stoke your inner flames.”

The look in Rengoku’s eyes as he watched you could only be described as earnest and your cheeks heated at his grand words, unsure of how to react. Slowly, you took off your shoes and drew your knees in, feet now back up on the wooden floor. At this, Rengoku’s face brightened. He stood up and unfolded your futon for you. 

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Kujaku? Don’t worry. You can also run away in the morning when the sun is up. In fact, if you are going to run away, I’d prefer you do it in the daylight!” 

You laughed sheepishly.

“Thanks, Master.”

Chapter Text

“Ooo…”

“Wow! That feels great!” 

“I don’t know, it kind of hurts for me…”

“You just have to get used to it first!” 

All kinds of suspicious noises rose over the tree line.

You, Ito, and Rengoku had decided to take a three-day break at a nearby hot spring. Recognizing that the constant harsh training was starting to take a toll and progress would be hard to make without recovery, Rengoku had announced a “spiritual retreat,” though you wondered if this wasn’t some kindness he was offering because you’d almost run away. 

That brought you to the current moment, submerged to your chin in a steaming pool, watching Rengoku and Ito arm wrestling on a rock. Rengoku’s arm was about twice as thick as Ito’s, but the winner was supposed to get to eat a sack of hot spring eggs and you were quite certain that Ito did not want them. 

You wished you could somehow tell your master that non-food prizes would likely be more effective incentives. 

You wrapped your arms over your stomach in the water. It was uncomfortably full, you having eaten sixteen pieces of tempura about forty minutes previous. You’d already lost your own arm wrestling match against Ito in what you hoped was a convincing way, swiftly pulling his arm down on top of yours and feigning surprise. 

With a grunt, Ito lost his match too. 

“Oh nooo,” he said, voice laden with obviously fake disappointment. 

Rengoku laughed, standing up in the water, hands planted on his hips. You kept your eyes fixed on an interesting tree in the distance. 

“Don’t worry! We can share them!”

Your head snapped up. “Oh nooo!” You and Ito moaned in unison for real this time. 

Not feeling relaxed in the least, you clung to a rock, self-conscious. Communal bathing wasn’t a big issue, but stewing in your own bathtub in your home would have been infinitely more calming than this because your two companions both failed at the concept of relaxation. Rengoku and Ito started singing a song together, way too much energy still built up. 

“Heave-ho! Heave-ho! What a big catch I’ve got!” 

An imaginary fish was shoved into a basket. “Even if I row fifteen shaku, my darling won’t notice me~”

Your soul leaving your body in increments, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. 

“Come on, Kujaku! Don’t you know the song?” 

“Aaaargh…..!” 

Fully quiet now, the three of you reclined solemnly in the water, meditating on the steam slowly rising into the night sky. In the silence, it was apparent to you that Rengoku’s breathing had an unusual tenor to it, though it was so subtle that you wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. 

“Master?” You interrupted the quiet hesitantly.

“... Hm?” Rengoku looked your way and you wondered if he’d fallen asleep. 

“Your breathing sounds odd.” You sank deeper into the water, just barely peeking up over the surface. 

“Hmm!” Rengoku’s expression brightened and you were hit with a deeply ominous feeling. “Do you know how someone becomes a Hashira, Kujaku?” 

You shook your head. 

“There are many steps on the path to becoming a Hashira! But one of the first ones is to learn a technique called Total Concentration Breathing! To do this, you have to maximize your lung capacity and make your breaths reach every fiber of your whole being. This will surely make you much stronger than you were before, so the higher ranks definitely do Total Concentration Breathing all of the time!” He looked as though he’d been struck with a bolt of inspiration and the ominous feeling in your chest grew. 

“Let’s try it together!”

You really regretted saying anything. 

After almost drowning in the pool, you and Ito were laid face down on a large wooden drying board, wheezing. 

“Please–” Ito coughed, “never ask Master any questions ever again, Kujaku.” 

“Yeah, agreed.” Your limbs tingled unpleasantly. “Who knew breathing could be so crazy.” 

“Master just does that all the time without thinking about it!” 

The gulf between you and Rengoku grew a hundredfold in your mind and you found yourself really regretting not running away when you’d had the chance. 

“So, when you feel like your muscles are about to explode, you have to use all your strength and stop it! That’s when you breathe out! So, breathe in… Yes! Like that. And now! … Oh. Your eyes are bleeding, Kujaku!” 

You let the whole breath out at once, the pressure on your insides relieving suddenly. 

“Great, cool, awesome.” Several blood vessels in your eyes had burst, filling the white space with red. 

“Good progress!!” Rengoku clapped you on the back and you pitched forward, back onto your face. Deciding it’d probably be best to just stay like that, you remained motionless.

“Don’t stop, Kujaku! Even if you’re lying down, you can do Total Concentration Breathing! You can do it while you sleep, too!”

You groaned. 

A damp towel was placed on top of your head. “Let’s go to the dry heat room! Maybe it will be easier there. Or harder! We will see!”

In the dry sauna, you felt your entire body shriveling up from the inside out as the heated air poured into your lungs, filling your blood. Rengoku had procured a wooden practice sword from somewhere and as he loomed over you and Ito, you felt the stakes for failure rising rapidly. Even though it was so hot inside the room, you shivered from the strain, struggling to control the flow of your breaths. 

The tiny capillaries in the delicate tissues of your gums started to leak, sending a faint taste of blood around your mouth. You focused on stopping your breath with more precision, the strain of controlling it testing even the smallest muscles in your trunk. Glancing over at Ito, you could tell he was experiencing the same thing. He was even drooling a little from his focus, the blood from his mouth running down his chin. 

After what felt like the longest of eternities, Rengoku lowered the wooden sword. “That’s five minutes!” he announced. “You can stop!” 

You panted hard, arms wrapped around your stomach and chest. Taking the towel off your head, you spat some blood into it, your whole body heaving. 

“M-Master,” Ito groaned, peeling himself from the floor. “I think I’m at my limit.” 

Rengoku knelt, taking a close look into Ito’s face. “Yeah! I’d agree with that.” He turned to you, smiling faintly. You knew you were likely a sight. The whites of your eyes were fully red with blood, as were your lips and teeth. Your whole body was covered in a layer of sweat. 

“You, too, Kujaku.” He held out a hand and you shakily put yours into it, allowing him to pull you up. “Let’s go eat those hot spring eggs!” 

You wanted to cry but you were afraid that if you did, your tears might come out bloody.

After eating half a dozen hot spring eggs, it was time for another soak.

The three of you found yourselves again in the hot pool, gathered around for some invaluable Hashira advice.

“In the Demon Slayer Corps, your crow keeps track of your body count for you, to help inform your ranking.” Rengoku crossed his arms over his chest, smiling helpfully. 

“Body… count…” you repeated slowly. You were a virgin and not ashamed of it but you wondered if there was something more to it. 

“Yes, and if that number reaches fifty, you become a Hashira!”

You stared. “Master, did you…”

He grinned. “You can also become a Hashira if you kill a Twelve Kizuki! So, that is how I became a Hashira.”

Somehow, you felt relieved, though you supposed it didn’t really matter what Rengoku’s personal habits were like. You couldn’t imagine he’d have so much free time, anyway. 

Ito seemed to be on your train of thought. He raised his hand.

“Yes, Ito!”

“Is your rank determined solely by body count?” You really hoped not. At this rate, you’d be a Mizunoto forever. 

“Until you reach the higher ranks, it is the most significant contributing factor! But once you learn a breathing technique, you will find that you are given more opportunities to increase it! So, don’t worry!” Rengoku let out a low chuckle. 

“Uh, Master?” You raised your hand this time.

“Yes, Kujaku!”

“What would you estimate your, uh, body count at?”

His expression brightened. “I’m not sure! My crow stopped counting once I became a Hashira! I never bothered to count myself. But there are others who count obsessively! They are very proud!” Your mouth dropped open. 

Ito looked thoughtful. “I think I’m at four,” he murmured, sounding dejected. “I have a long way to go.”

Rengoku laughed. “You’re still a rookie, Ito! You’ll get there!” He turned to you with a considerate expression.

“Zero,” you said immediately, looking terrified. “Waiting for marriage.”

“.....”

Ito made a noise like he’d busted a rib. “Kujaku, no…”

“How many!” Rengoku’s smile froze on his face. “Demons have you killed!” He seemed to shrink in on himself. “Kujaku!”

Slowly, you lowered yourself below the surface of the water to drown yourself. 

After that, you weren’t allowed to take any more baths. 

The three of you dried off and returned to your quarters, but Ito and Rengoku were getting on like a house on fire, continuing to chat as you fixed up a pot of tea, hoping it’d settle your stomach and your embarrassment. 

“I joined the Demon Slayer Corps to help others!” Ito proudly explained his motivations. His voice became somber as he described his inevitably tragic backstory. 

“My neighbor had two beautiful daughters and a beloved wife. He was so proud of them. But they were killed and eaten by a demon one night. The demon only took the wife and daughters and my neighbor was inconsolable. He had no sons to avenge them and he felt that he was too old to join the Corps. I volunteered to join and avenge them in his place!” 

“How noble!” Rengoku looked really impressed. You recoiled, more self-conscious than ever. They both turned to you expectantly.

“Uh, I have my own reasons,” you said through tight lips. 

“Too hard to say. I see. Well, that’s alright, too, Kujaku.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell them that your reasons for joining the Corps could be described as something along the lines of “just because.” Quiet, you turned away and sipped some tea. 

Rengoku seemed to sense that you were unsettled. “Well, it’s time for you two to go to sleep! We have a full day of Total Concentration Breathing practice ahead of us tomorrow!” 

Both you and Ito made a strangled sound. 

After Rengoku was gone, you started to pull your futon out. You felt Ito’s eyes on you.

“What is it?” You turned to look at him and found him watching you closely. 

“Nothing!” Ito busied himself with pulling out his own futon. 

But his curiosity seemed to get the best of him. As you lowered yourself into the covers, he spoke up.

“Kujaku, you’re bothered by something. Mind saying what it is?”

Your hand stopped as it reached out to put out the lamp. 

“Um.” 

A wave of shame washed over you again and you faltered. 

You weren’t sure if you could fully tell Ito about your ambivalence, the lack of a good reason to fight, or about your overall feelings of inadequacy. You’d thought about how to “stoke your inner flames,” as Rengoku had put it, but still had nothing but a flame-red blade and a general sense of regret. 

Ito was a different breed from you, so this was just something you would have to figure out on your own. You finished putting out the lamp and pulled your arm into your futon. 

“It’s nothing, Ito. Thanks, though.”

You heard him shift around, trying to get comfortable. 

“I think the breathing exercises earlier might have bruised a rib,” he said with an audible wince. “Tomorrow’s going to be hell.” 

“We’ll barely survive, like we always do,” you replied, unable to even consider yet what tomorrow would bring. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

The room was exceptionally silent. None of the walls faced the outside, so there weren’t even any sounds of insects or the wind. You found it hard to fall asleep. 

Apparently, Ito did, too, as he started to talk again. 

“At the Final Selection, only two people survived in my group,” he commented into the darkness. 

You sighed. Of course you knew Ito was strong and had a lot of potential. 

“I survived, and so did one other person, and that person died just two weeks later on her first mission. We stuck together after the Final Selection, but she never came back after she went off on her assignment. Only her crow came back to let me know. I was so devastated, and scared.” 

Listening fully now, you rolled onto your side. As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you watched Ito as he spoke to the ceiling.

“The reason she and I survived the Final Selection wasn’t because we were strong. We were probably the two weakest people there. All of the others died fighting, and because they died, we were left alone. I didn’t kill a single demon on the mountain that week. When we came down at the end and I saw there was only us left, I thought I should commit seppuku and die, too.” 

Ito’s voice grew heavy with a familiar emotion that you recognized as regret. “I thought if I didn’t take my life, I’d at least die from the shame. But that child, the Ubuyashiki son, told me not to do it. And for some reason, that was all it took for me to go on.” He paused. 

“But sometimes I still think that maybe I was just too cowardly to die.” 

You sighed again, through your nose. “But look how strong you are now, Ito,” you said, fidgeting with your pillow. “You’ll be able to learn Flame Breathing soon for certain. You have noble intentions and a firm resolve. It’s a good thing you lived, because you’ll be able to save even more people with the strength you got from moving forward from all of that.” 

Ito chuckled. “I know,” he said. He rolled over to face you. “But it seems like maybe you don’t.”

You frowned, confused.

“I don’t know what’s bothering you, but it really doesn’t matter how you got here, or why. We’re here now and a Hashira is personally cultivating us. A Hashira! Can you even believe it? If we learn his techniques and can gain even a fraction of his strength, think of how many people can be saved.” Ito stared you down in the darkness, but your confused frown didn’t go away. 

“I didn’t join the Demon Slayer Corps to save people’s lives,” you admitted, the words sounding even worse said aloud than they sounded in your private thoughts. “I don’t know why I joined. I was bored. I don’t have a reason to fight. I never saw anyone get eaten or massacred. I just kind of ended up here.” Your frown deepened, your own words confusing you even further. 

“I want to get stronger but I don’t know why. I want to be of some use, but I don’t know what for. I don’t know why my katana is red. But I’m weak because I have no purpose. That’s all.” You rolled over, prepared for Ito’s judgements. 

He just started laughing.

You scowled and threw your pillow at his face. 

“Sorry, Kujaku,” he chuckled. “I just didn’t think that was what you were gonna say. You sounded so depressed.” 

“I am depressed!” you insisted, snatching your pillow back to throw at him again. “I don’t have any grand revenge scheme or dead neighbors or survivor’s guilt! I was just… just tired of my stupid life! But what do I even do with that?!”

Ito sat up, placing your pillow back in your lap gently.

“Those are all good things, Kujaku,” he said quietly. “You’re not complacent. You stood up against an unseen injustice. When you came to know it, you didn’t quit, either. You’re still here, and you’re strong! Just because you’re not scarred, or traumatized…” He paused. 

“Just because you’re not, it doesn’t mean your efforts are for nothing.”

“I wanted to run away…” You shook your head.

Ito tucked himself back into his futon. “But you didn’t.”

“Only because Master convinced me not to.”

“As is his job. I heard attrition is pretty bad these days.”

You shoved your pillow back under your head and pushed your face into it. “That’s not helping, Ito.”

He laughed again. “Sorry. But I think you’re super refreshing. This job sucks and when you think you’ve heard one tragic story, another immediately one-ups it. So to hear that you just kind of wandered in, looking for something to do, it lifts my spirits.” 

You grumbled. “Glad to be of service?!”

Ito pulled his covers up to his chin and smiled. You could see his teeth in the dark. 

“You’ll find your way, Kujaku. Master will definitely help you find it. In fact, maybe that's why you're here. It’s your fate.” 

You didn’t feel more confident, but somehow, you felt at least a little cheered. 

“I’m not seeing any red strings, Ito.”

He laughed again. “Good, because I’m pretty sure neither I nor Master are interested in marrying you. You’re funny, Kujaku.” 

Your face heated up. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You rolled onto your back and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Good night, Kujaku.”

“Good night, Ito.” 

Chapter Text

All good things must come to an end. 

After spending a “restful” week at the hot springs, the three of you traveled back to the training ground to resume the 4444 Purgatory Routine with one important addition of Total Concentration Breathing practice. 

The last four hours of your regimen now included this bone-searing exercise, leaving you and Ito barely able to drag your bodies into your futons at the end of the evening. For the first few days, Rengoku had to put you there himself, both of you left totally immobile.

But the good thing about Total Concentration Breathing, the only good thing really, was that it was easy to measure your progress by how long you could maintain it. After a couple weeks of practice, your capillaries had at least mostly stopped bursting. 

Ito had become especially skilled. He was not only able to maintain it for longer than you, but he’d even started to radiate a strong heat when he did it. 

Rengoku explained that users of Flame Breathing gave off heat from their bodies while in a state of Total Concentration Breathing. Ultimately, the heat came from the body’s metabolism. As he explained, he gave each of you a huge cauldron of chicken and egg on rice. 

“Metabolism means food!” he exclaimed, tucking into his own meal. “Delicious!”

It was during your mid-morning strength exercises a few days later that you first met Ito’s crow, Harumi. 

“Takahiro-kun~ Oh, Takahiro-kun~!” A slightly choked-sounding sexy lady’s voice came calling from overhead, causing both you and Rengoku to jump. 

It was a crow. 

She flew low over you and Rengoku, coming to a stop in front of Ito, who offered his arm for her to perch on. 

“Takahiro-kun, my darling, you have a mi-ssion! Go south until you reach a river fork. Then, head west to the nearest village. At the foot of the mountain, you will meet your unit and head together to the underground cavern! Make haste, because you’re due at nightfall~” 

“Thanks, Harumi,” Ito said. “I’ll leave straight away.” 

You went up behind Ito as he started heading inside to change into his uniform. “Ito, your given name is Takahiro? … That is so weird.” 

He gave you a look. “What did you think it was?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. Ito?”

“Ito Ito??” 

You laughed. “Yeah, that sounds right.” 

After dressing, Rengoku pulled Ito aside for what you guessed was a pep talk. You gave them some privacy, returning to your 1000 sit-up regimen. 

This was the first mission either of you had been given since starting to train with Rengoku. Ito had become much stronger, you could easily see that. He was stronger than you for sure, and now halfway through the 4444 Purgatory Routine, he even had a touch of the confidence that radiated off of Rengoku in great waves. He could maintain Total Concentration Breathing for two whole hours while you still hit your limit at just one. 

But Rengoku didn’t seem concerned about your different rates of progress. Rather, he seemed more motivated than ever, thrilled to have not just one, but two promising apprentices. 

Peeking over between repetitions, you noticed that they appeared to be doing some kind of synchronized dance routine. Never mind the pep talk, then. 

Sun still high in the sky, Ito took off, saddled with ten bentos.

“Good fortune to you in battle!” You called after him, waving your practice sword. He waved back and as you watched his silhouette grow smaller in the distance, you knew he’d be unloading those bentos as soon as convenience allowed. Silently, you prayed that he’d run into a hungry traveler as soon as possible. 

Suddenly, you found yourself alone with Rengoku. A truly terrifying prospect.

“Alright, Kujaku! Since Ito’s going to be occupied for a while, I’ll be your sparring partner!”

Your lunch started spinning in your stomach at the thought. “B-Bring it on, Master!” you called weakly, unable to fully hide your fear.

Rengoku grinned and he looked like a devil. “Here I come!”

That night, when you finally made it to your futon, you thought that you’d be lucky to wake up in the morning. 

But you did wake up, or rather, you were awoken by something. The sky was still dark outside and, as you brought aching hands to your face to rub your eyes, you heard urgent voices speaking from the other side of the sliding screen door. 

Abruptly, the door slid open and it was your master standing there, not in his sleeping clothes or his training clothes, but in his uniform, his patterned haori thrown over his shoulders. His eyes glowered intensely in the darkness. Something was terribly wrong. 

“Kujaku, you don’t move from here until I come back. That’s an order.” 

With no further explanation, he was gone. 

Clutching the covers to your chin, you were frozen with apprehension. What could have happened that would cause Rengoku to look like that? You turned to pull your katana from its stand and did the only thing you knew you could at that moment.

You waited. 

The sun rose but you did not move from the room, nor did you go back to sleep. A feeling of intense foreboding stuck with you, even as the day grew bright. 

Your master did not return until late in the morning. You did not dare move, even when you heard his footsteps approach outside. But you scrambled to your feet when he opened the door.

He looked very pale. You reached out for the first time to support him as he lowered himself to his knees on the tatami. 

“Kujaku,” he managed in a weak voice that you would never have expected from him. “Ito is dead.” 

You felt as though you had been struck by lightning.

“What?” Your mind went numb. 

“Ito was killed. By Lower Moon Four.” Rengoku let out a deep sigh and his body went slack as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“He fought a Twelve Kizuki?” Your eyes filled with tears. “But that’s so…” Your eyes met Rengoku’s. He seemed to stare right through you. 

“Unfair…” you finished dumbly, lowering your face into your hands. 

A hesitant hand settled on your back and though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell your master was lost. Unable to bring yourself to look directly at him for fear of the uncertainty and grief you might find there, you gripped his arm, the other still hiding your eyes as they stung furiously with your tears. 

You didn’t do any training that day.

But the next day, it was almost like nothing had happened and your master’s seemingly nonplussed attitude frightened you into a state of submission.

“Faster, Kujaku! If you can’t catch up with me at this pace before the four hours are up, you’ll run an extra two hours before you can rest!” 

You sprinted after Rengoku as fast as your legs could carry you, weaving between trees. Your morning run took place in the forest today, and instead of a normal jog, Rengoku had instructed that you would somehow have to catch him, but it was impossible. 

On top of that, he wasn’t running in a straight line at all, even hurling himself into the tree tops at times to leap from branch to branch. 

If you didn’t follow his movements closely, you would easily lose him. 

Chest heaving, you let out a frustrated gasp. The gap between you widened and you skidded along the forest floor as he abruptly changed direction. 

“Kujaku, you have six minutes left to catch up!” Rengoku called to you, sounding not even the least bit winded. 

At this realization, your nostrils flared with anger. Balling your hands into fists, you launched yourself forward, strides as long as you could manage. 

“Master–!” You reached out with one hand to gather even more momentum by shoving yourself off a tree trunk. 

“Gotcha!” With a loud thud, you tackled him with your full force. 

Well, at least you thought you did. Coughing out a mouthful of dirt and leaves, your consolation prize was that you had managed to land the tips of your fingers on Rengoku’s shoe. As he hauled you to your feet, he started laughing.

“Good, Kujaku! I didn’t expect you to catch me! We’ll go faster tomorrow.”

You just coughed violently in response. 

Next was sword drills but it was the same story. 

“If you can’t land a point on me today, you’ll do an extra thousand sword draws before lunch!”　

Again, you had four hours to achieve this, but that meant you got beat down for four hours, too, and after your desperate chase in the woods, it proved to be too much. You performed worse than ever, and, aching and bruised, failed to land your point. 

Though you had never done so before in general, so you weren’t surprised.

“Master, should I do the draws with the wooden sword, or the katana?” You wheezed, falling to one knee with exhaustion. 

“The katana! You must have the sheath to do a proper draw, after all.” 

Legs trembling, you stumbled to get your katana. A thousand draws would likely all but rip your arm and elbow from their joints by the end of it. But you were used to it. 

After finishing, your arm was inflamed with pain and there were some new marks worn into your hand that hadn’t been there before. Rengoku wrapped a bandage around your hand again as you shoved a rice ball into your mouth with the other one.

You didn’t have the time or the capacity to even wonder why he was doing this to you, but you certainly weren’t numb to the effects. Ito’s death still fresh in your mind, you were only conscious of how alone you felt as Rengoku seemed to actively attempt to train you into an early grave yourself. 

Now and then, from the corner of your eye, you noticed him staring at you with a haunted expression on his face. But then, he’d just smile and task you with extra push-ups, as if dishing out a punishment for catching him looking at you like that. 

Ten days passed before anything changed. 

At dinner, you were trying to consume about a liter of oden that Rengoku had piled into a huge bowl for you when he revealed that the two of you would be traveling together the next day.

“Where to, Master?” you asked, secretly hoping there would be no sparring tomorrow as a result.

“We’re going to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters! There is a Hashira meeting occurring tomorrow. Also, we should visit the Corps cemetery.” 

Unable to eat another bite, you nodded silently. 

The next morning, you headed out at daybreak. 

Of course, the method of transportation would be “running!” and you had no idea how far it was, but Rengoku instructed you that you would need to keep up. He seemed to run at an earnest pace, though the terrain was grassy, so you found that following him was easier as you weren’t dodging trees. 

To your shock and relief, it only took two hours to reach your destination. But it also meant that it only took two hours for your feet to carry you to Ito’s grave, a sight you hadn’t had the time or energy to prepare yourself for. 

You allowed Rengoku to pay his respects first and you watched from a short distance as he lit incense to set on the fresh grave marker. Blinking, you also watched as he removed his shoes and left them there. 

He walked over to you in his socks. You frowned. 

“Master, I have to ask…”

He just smiled and patted your shoulder. 

“The meeting’s about to start. I’ll come back later, so please take your time.”

With no explanation for the shoes, he was gone. 

Sighing, you took your turn to approach Ito’s grave, seating yourself next to Rengoku’s discarded shoes. 

“Hey, Ito,” you said, noting the characters used to write his name. You’d never known them. 

“Some inside joke?” you asked, nodding toward the shoes. “You two really got along well. Sometimes, I felt like a third wheel. But I get it. You were just a great guy.” You stuck a hand into your uniform pocket, taking out a rice ball wrapped in bamboo leaves. 

“It wouldn’t be right not to leave any food,” you said, setting it on the corner of the smooth stone marker. You smiled. “We three never go hungry, you know.” 

Holding your knees to your chest, you took a shuddering breath, the smell of the incense filling your lungs. 

“Pretty sure Master’s been trying to send me to heaven to keep you company the way he’s been training me lately. You’re not missing out. But I’m…” You felt acutely aware of the miserable look on your face. 

“I’m pretty lonely without you, you know.” 

A breeze blew the incense smoke sideways and you adjusted your legs, taking another deep breath.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be bad, if we practiced together one last time?”

Letting your eyes slip closed, you started Total Concentration Breathing, not knowing what else to do. You missed your friend, even though you mostly just suffered together, trying to get stronger. Maybe that’s why you missed him so much. Suffering alone was bad for the soul. 

The cemetery was silent and the air there felt easy on your strained lungs. Deep in your focus, you didn’t even notice when Rengoku returned until he called your name. 

“Kujaku.” 

You opened your eyes slowly and turned your head. 

Rengoku stood there with a young woman at his side and your eyes immediately scrambled for something to look at other than her chest. The uniform she wore gaped completely open in the front, her large breasts threatening to spill out. 

But you found that her other features drew your attention even more when you looked at her. She had bright pink and green hair, gathered into three thick plaits. Her wide eyes sparkled, even as the sun disappeared on the horizon. 

“This is Kanroji Mitsuri. Kanroji, this is my apprentice, Kujaku _____.”

You scrambled to your feet and bowed low, embarrassed. Rengoku had just come from the Hashira meeting, meaning this woman was likely a Hashira, too.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance!” You shouted your greeting too loudly. 

Kanroji let out the softest of giggles. “How proper you are, Kujaku-san! Can I call you _____-san? I’m terribly sorry to hear about your friend, by the way. We all heard what happened at the meeting today.”

Her voice was so delicate and sweet that it made your cheeks heat up. To say it was unexpected would be an understatement. How could such a small and sweet-looking young girl be a Hashira?

“You can call me whatever you’d like,” you replied vacantly, mesmerized by how cute she was. Continuing to stare, you didn’t even realize that Rengoku was saying something until–

“–and so, you’ll be staying with Kanroji for a little while until I–”

“What?” You frowned, peeling your eyes away from Kanroji and turning to look at Rengoku. “Sorry, what did you say, Master?”

Rengoku grinned. “I was saying that I’ll be investigating an incident for a little while, so Kanroji here has volunteered to oversee your training until I come back! Kanroji has trained under me before, so she is familiar with your regimen. I think you will be able to get even stronger, so I am looking forward to seeing you afterward!”

The next thing you knew, Kanroji had your hands clasped in yours and she was vibrating with excitement. 

“I am so excited and honored that Rengoku-san is entrusting you to me, _____-san! You’ll come live at my house, too, so I can’t wait for us to talk a lot! Let’s go right away!” 

As you were led away, you looked back at your master. In the twilight, his eyes glowed after you mysteriously. Somehow, he painted a lonely image. 

Struck with a new type of fear you’d learned after bidding Ito farewell for the last time unknowingly, you tried to burn his image into your mind. 

“Master!” you called. “I won’t forget you!”

He waved after you. “It won’t be that long, Kujaku.” 

Your eyes watered. What if you never met again, though? The thought wouldn’t escape your throat since it felt like a curse. Your eyes moved to Ito’s grave.

“Ito! Protect our master!”

You didn’t move your gaze back to Rengoku’s face, but if you had, you would have been met with his intense stare, as he tried to burn your image into his mind, too. 

Chapter Text

Kanroji Mitsuri’s home reminded you of your aunt. 

Your aunt, who never married or had children, but who had the same boyfriend for twenty years, lived a certain lifestyle that could only be described as “self-indulgent.” Secretly, you envied her. 

Her home was full of cute toys and treasures, every nook and cranny containing some tasty morsel or frivolous tchotchke. She ate sweets for breakfast and would probably die early from her general lack of self-discipline, but you felt confident that she’d die happy. 

Kanroji Mitsuri’s home reminded you of her. So did the “welcome pancakes!” that she placed in front of you when you arrived, stacked half a meter high and soaked with butter and honey. 

You hadn’t been able to quite believe that Kanroji had trained under Rengoku in the past, given her girlish looks and demeanor, but faced down by the teetering pancake stack, you suddenly changed your mind. 

You looked up, cheeks stuffed with pancake, to find Kanroji eyeing you. She cut her own stack of pancakes into quadrants and managed to slide one whole quadrant into her mouth at once, looking immensely satisfied. You couldn’t help but stare.

“Kanroji-san,” you said, laying down your fork. “I am so sorry to be rude, but I’m just so tired that my eyes won’t stay open.”

“A lot has happened to you, hasn’t it _____-san?” Kanroji offered a kind smile. She stood up from the table, her whole stack of pancakes magically disappeared. 

“I’ll prepare you a bath! Want me to wash your back?”

You followed her gratefully. “No, thank you,” you replied, wanting to sleep as soon as possible. Your aching legs quivered as you were led. 

“I can see that you’ve been training hard! Do you want to spend some time relaxing tomorrow? I’ll give you a massage!” Kanroji let out a tiny laugh and you eyed her suspiciously. She was dainty, but also a Hashira and the image of her accidentally breaking your bones from squeezing you too hard appeared in your mind’s eye. 

“Th-That’s alright, Kanroji-san. Master has been working me harder lately, but I shouldn’t let up.”

“You can call me Micchan, if you want!” 

You coughed. “There’s no way I can address a Hashira like that!” you insisted, lowering your head. “In fact, ‘Kanroji-san’ is even a stretch!” 

She frowned. “Aww, that’s no fun. I was hoping we would be friends! But, I guess that might be scary for you. Anyway, you know, Rengoku-san talked a lot about you after the meeting was over! It made my heart beat so fast, hearing how concerned he seemed! You know, he’s really a ‘greater good’ kind of person, so it’s unusual to hear him talk about someone in particular aside from his little brother.” 

As she chattered on, you noticed that she’d picked up a whole bathtub, already full of water, from somewhere and was carrying it down the hall over her head as if it were a tea tray. Not a single drop of water sloshed out. You stared in terrified silence. 

“Sometimes, it’s hard to tell what Rengoku-san is thinking. Well, you can ask him anything, and he answers honestly every time, but maybe he doesn’t interpret his own intentions that hard? Anyway, at least he definitely doesn’t want you to die. That poor man. He doesn’t have a Tsuguko because they all run away, you know? Did you know that? So, he was so excited to have some good apprentices but then your friend died, which is truly horrible. I think he’s beside himself, trying to come up with some way to make sure you don’t go the same way, _____-san.”

Barely paying attention to Kanroji’s words, you followed her to a large, Western-style room and watched her set the bathtub down on a fancy-looking electric contraption. She busied herself with it and continued talking.

“Rengoku-san has a little brother named Senjuro-kun! He’s so cute and sweet and makes great snacks. So I was surprised to hear that Rengoku-san left home to train some people. He really thinks about Senjuro-kun all the time, so it was a surprise to see him worrying so much about someone other than him. Not that you’re not cute, too, _____-san! Actually, maybe Rengoku-san really likes cute things? … I’ll have to test that theory out sometime. Hehe!” Kanroji added a sack of what looked like rock salt to the bathtub and stirred it with a long spoon. 

“Rengoku-san searched for your friend and his unit when he got the report from one of their surviving crows, but…” Kanroji stopped talking abruptly. 

“I’m sorry, _____-san. I’ve gone too far.” 

Your face heated up and you felt your eyes quiver but you wanted to know.

“Do you know what happened, Kanroji-san?” you asked quietly. “Please, I want to know.” 

Her eyebrows creased with concern. “He didn’t find much,” she said, putting aside the long spoon and turning toward you, grasping both of your hands in hers. “Just the… the remains.”

You took a shaky breath. Kanroji squeezed your hand. 

“Ito was a great guy,” you said, voice steadier than expected. “It just really bothers me, the thought of Master having to go through that alone. He must have been shocked and horrified. I can’t imagine what he must have been thinking. We both… really liked Ito a lot.” 

Kanroji handed you a towel and a piece of soap. “Rengoku-san has great strength, both physically and mentally.” She paused. 

“He is always so reliable, just like a cool big brother, so I’m glad.” She smiled at you. “I’m so glad he has someone like you thinking about him that way.”

She left you alone, then. To your surprise, the bath water was steaming hot. 

After your second week with Kanroji, you started to wonder how long you would be staying with her. Training with Kanroji was hard, but in a different way. She focused heavily on body flexibility exercises, which you weren’t great at. But it didn’t take long to start seeing results. The change in focus even seemed to improve the progress you were making with Total Concentration Breathing. 

But Kanroji insisted on two things that continued to wear on you the whole time.

The first was that you had to eat not three, but five meals per day. The meals were inevitably enormous. You hated to waste food but were starting to wonder if you could make an exception in this case. 

The second was that she absolutely wanted you to master a move that she called the “Reverse Kitty Paw Screw Kick” before your master returned. The reasoning wasn’t that it was particularly important or good for you, but rather that it “looks super cool!” and “Rengoku-san will love it!” and “it makes your legs look awesome!”

You really tried hard, but it required that you be able to do the splits while doing a handstand at the same time and you couldn’t do either one, much less both. But for as hard as you tried, Kanroji tried even harder, stretching your legs to their screaming limits. 

“Wow, _____-san, you’re super stiff! I wonder if Rengoku-san can do the splits? I’ve never asked! Well, if he can’t, soon you’ll be able to do something he can’t!” 

You let out a choked sound from the horrible sensation in your hamstrings.

In your mind, doing something Rengoku couldn’t do and it being something like doing the splits was as if you were able to do something like “tickle a penguin” and then were super proud of it because Rengoku couldn’t do it. 

But on the seventeenth day after arriving at Kanroji’s home, you were able to do the splits and manage a handstand. Kanroji was overjoyed. 

The Reverse Kitty Paw Screw Kick had two parts to it. 

From a run, you had to launch yourself into a handspring. While upside down, your legs were supposed to split and your whole body had to turn like a corkscrew, sending your legs out in each direction. The second part demanded that you support your whole weight on one hand while the rest of your body went parallel to the ground, kicking out like a lever. 

The whole move ended with Kanroji poised on all fours like a cat and you poised like a piece of trash, crumpled on the floor of the training hall. 

“Hmmm. I think you need to get more momentum, so you can get at least three rotations when you’re doing the splits-kick. Let’s do some handstand push-ups!”

The handstand push-ups were as awful as they sounded. 

But Kanroji wasn’t as accepting of failure as Rengoku was, you found, and whether you liked it or not, you had the Reverse Kitty Paw Screw Kick mastered just ten days later, and artfully filed under “List of Cool but Useless Techniques.” 

The unexpected side effect of learning it was that your upper body strength had increased dramatically, much to your delight. 

With a big red blush on her face, Kanroji asked you, “Have you ever seen Rengoku-san naked?”

You gaped at her. “Yes?”

She let out a squeak and covered her face with her hands. “Well, you can probably tell then, that Flame Breathing umm… It uses a lot of upper body strength.” 

You sighed. “Yeah, Master has really thick arms.” You held up your own forearm. It was probably a third of the size of his. Despite training hard, your arms were always the last to get stronger. 

Kanroji squeaked again. “You are so brave, _____-san! Anyway, if you want to learn the Flame Breathing forms, you should try working on your shoulders and arms, too. The Second Form is really hard if your elbows aren’t super steady.”

“That’s actually really good advice, Kanroji-san! Thanks a lot.” You raised your eyebrows. 

“Yeah! Wait, what do you mean by ‘actually’?!” 

You laughed. “Well, when am I gonna use the Reverse Kitty Paw Screw Kick?”

Kanroji puffed her cheeks at you. “Maybe it’ll come in handy one day! You never know!”

You sat back on your rear, frowning. “Speaking of Master,” you said, deciding to voice your concerns. “He’s been gone an awfully long time.”

Kanroji patted your arm. “Sometimes, when a Hashira is sent to investigate something, it takes a long time because the stronger demons are able to hide themselves so well that they’re almost undetectable. Rengoku-san was sent to search for the cause of some disappearances but the weird thing is that all these people disappeared while they were riding a train! It is a very strange case.”

You frowned. “I hope he’s alright.” 

“Rengoku-san is super reliable, so he’s probably fine! Do you want me to inquire?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t want to bother anyone. I’ll be patient.”

Kanroji laughed. “You’re always so proper, _____-san! It’s fine if you want to do some poking around. I’m sure Rengoku-san would be happy to know you’re worried about him.” 

You scrunched your face. Somehow, you couldn’t imagine it.

“Maybe in the morning.” 

Kanroji visibly brightened. “I’ll bring some stationery to your room!”

But you never actually got to send your letter.

Just past sunrise, you awoke to someone shaking your shoulder hard. 

“_____-san, please wake up!!” It was Kanroji. 

You sat up slowly and as you realized about what time it was, your heart dropped into your stomach. A dreadful feeling of deja vu spread through your body. 

“We have to go, _____-san. Can you get dressed?”

You gripped Kanroji’s arm as you slid out of the covers. “What is it?” you asked, panic in your voice. “It isn’t Master, is it?”

Grimly, she nodded and in the dim light, you noticed small tears gathering in her eyes. You put on your uniform as quickly as you could and grabbed your katana. 

“He’s not dead,” Kanroji reassured you, leading you out to the road. “But he’s badly hurt. The crow said they’re not sure he’ll make it.” 

Numb to the tips of your fingers and toes, you ran with her, as fast as you could. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to Shinobu-san’s place, the Butterfly Mansion,” Kanroji held your hand as you ran and you couldn’t tell who was setting the pace. “It’s a hospital for Demon Slayers who are really injured.”

You weren’t sure who Shinobu might be and you weren’t sure how long it took to get there but it felt like too long. Kanroji led you inside without hesitation, though it looked just like someone’s house, albeit very large and spacious. 

It was easy to tell where you could find your master. 

The house bustled with a flurry of activity, shouts echoing down the halls as several dark-clothed Kakushi dashed back and forth, carrying boxes of medicine and basins of water. All the hustle seemed to lead to one place. 

But you wouldn’t see him for a while yet.

A Kakushi with kind eyes led you away, insisting it wouldn’t do you any good to see. Reassuring you that he was still alive, she wrapped a firm arm around your shoulders and sat you on a sunny veranda. Not as easily deterred as you, Kanroji disappeared somewhere. 

“What happened?” you demanded, your nerves bunched in tight knots throughout your body, a faint buzz resounding in your ears. “Is.. is Master going to…” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. As you tried to scramble to your feet, the Kakushi pulled you back down. 

“Let me go!” you shouted, your hand closing around her wrist. “I have to talk to him! I have to…”

I have to say goodbye.

The words failed to come out of your mouth aloud but tears pricked your eyes and you started shaking all over. You tore your hand from the Kakushi’s grasp and turned to run back down the hallway when an unfamiliar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Ara, ara… Might you be Kujaku-san?” 

A young woman’s voice, quiet but with the barest hint of a threat under it interrupted you and you froze, your mind going blank. 

“That’s who you are, right?” The voice was right beside your ear now, sweet like honey. “Kujaku-san?”

From behind you, the Kakushi who had grabbed you scrambled onto her knees. 

“Kocho-sama! You’ve returned.” 

Eyes wide, you turned to face the woman, finding her right beside you, far closer than expected. You stumbled backward, your defenses automatically going up. 

“I’m Kujaku _____,” you replied, your brow crinkling. “Who are you and why do you know my name?”

The Kakushi spluttered and the woman smiled gently, though something was off about her to you. Your skin prickled. 

“My apologies,” she said, withdrawing her hands into her painted haori. The design made it look like a pair of butterfly’s wings. “My name is Kocho Shinobu. I’ve heard so much about you from Rengoku-san, that I almost feel that I already know you! But of course, this is the first time we’ve met! How careless of me.” 

You felt your cheeks grow hot. This person was a Hashira and you remembered her name from your conversation with Kanroji earlier, meaning you were currently in her house! You sank into a deep bow, sweating.

“I’m sorry!” you shouted, louder than you’d meant. “Hashira-sama, I owe you my respect.” 

She giggled and you flushed redder, the strange, threatening quality in her voice and smile not going away. Somehow, Kocho gave off a pressure that you could only think must be related to her strength as a Hashira. Either that, or she just hated you. Gulping, you wondered what the chances were of that being the case. 

“Please raise your head and don’t worry so much about the formalities,” she said, seating herself on the veranda. The Kakushi who had been so assertive with you earlier was visibly shaking. Kocho turned to her with the same frightening smile. 

“Hello! Thank you so much for bringing Kujaku-san here. Would you mind if we had a couple of minutes alone…?” 

The Kakushi seemed to disappear into the floor a little bit at this before rapidly backing away, head still bowed to the floor.

“Yes, ma’am! I will take my leave!”

With that, she was gone. 

Still rather unnerved, you sat beside Kocho on the veranda, a healthy distance between you and her. 

“I’ll tell you about Rengoku-san, so please calm down, Kujaku-san,” Kocho said in an even tone that made you feel that whether you could calm yourself or not, you didn’t have a choice. 

She explained that your master had been investigating a case where more than forty people had vanished while riding a certain train that was taken out of service shortly after. On the first day back in service, Rengoku and his team boarded it in hopes of finding the demon behind the disappearances.

Not only did they find it, but the train derailed with more than 200 passengers inside, necessitating a wide-scale rescue effort after the demon responsible had been eliminated. 

The cherry on top was that Upper Moon Three showed his face after the derailing, apparently having been drawn in by the promise of a fight with a Hashira. 

And, as a happy result, as Kocho explained with a neat little smile on her face, Rengoku had a hole the size of a fist blown straight through him that just barely missed his vital organs!

“Hmm, and that’s why we are so busy here today! The Master has spared no expense in rushing the best surgeons to Rengoku-san’s bedside.” Kocho folded her hands in her lap. 

“And, I hate to add this, but surely his left eye won’t recover at all. But when the surgery is complete, he can recover most of his functions with plenty of rest, recuperation, and care! We will tie him to the bed if he is too energetic, so there is nothing for you to worry about Kujaku-san!” 

She patted your shoulder. You gulped audibly. 

The surgery took a number of hours but you were finally allowed to see him when it was completed, late in the night. Kanroji came to get you, tears running down her cheeks with such fervor that you almost pissed yourself from fear. 

The sight of him, his face half-covered in bandages and the rest of him fully bandaged as well, brought you to your knees at his bedside, sobbing unabashedly. 

Despair clawed at you. How could there be someone out there who could bring your indomitable master to this state? 

You felt so powerless, your efforts rendered futile. 

The look on Rengoku’s face was peaceful, as if he’d been caught and frozen, having reached a state of nirvana on the brink of crossing over to the other side. 

“It’s not time for that yet, Master,” you said hoarsely, too afraid to touch him, so you just laid your hand next to his shoulder on the mattress, instead. 

Your tears turned very hot and threatened to choke you as you realized how alone you were now. The memory of Ito’s grave flashed in front of your eyes, incense smoking away in front of it. The smell stuck in your nose like a curse, the sight of your master’s shoes left there a distant memory that seemed to have happened in another life. 

As a gesture of the prayer that you still didn’t understand, you retrieved your own shoes from the entryway and left them next to Rengoku’s bed.

“I’ll come back,” you choked out. “Get your rest, Master.” 

He was so still that you couldn’t look at him any longer, fearing he was dead. 

Chapter Text

The girl named Aoi had found you some new shoes. When she’d left them for you wordlessly at the front door with a note, you’d marveled at her silent kindness, watching her retreating back. 

You knew that you should be training but what Rengoku didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

You wanted to watch over him while he recovered but he frightened you. He was so still that from afar, you would have guessed he was dead. Very, very quietly, you could still hear his breathing, as if it came from a place very deep inside his chest. Nothing else moved. 

But his skin was hot as fire. You wondered if he was feverish, but his cheeks remained pale. When you asked Kocho, she only said that it was a product of his breathing technique. It was only then that you noticed the familiar sound that indicated that he was still doing Total Concentration Breathing.

“Are you kidding me,” you said aloud, dropping your face into your hands as you sat in the chair at his bedside. “On the brink of death, and you can still do that?!” 

Left almost alone with your thoughts, you listened hard for Rengoku’s breaths, counting them in your head. They were so slow and quiet that it put you on edge. 

“How could this happen to you, Master?”

Of course, there was no answer. 

But really, what kind of demon could have done this to your master? He was the strongest person you had ever known in your life. To obtain even a fraction of his strength would render you superhuman. To think there was someone out there in the world who could bring such a man to this state chilled you to the bone.

His hair was spread out across his pillow, undone from its usual queue. Even though he was perfectly still, it seemed to ripple in the light like a proud flame. Silently, you watched his sleeping face. 

He was beautiful. 

Disgust struck you like a punch to the gut. This was your master that you were regarding like that, and he was lying there half-dead. The best thing you could think of was that he looked pretty? You stood up and backed away, scowling, completely revolted by your own disrespect.

“I must be getting stir crazy,” you said aloud, turning toward the door, suddenly motivated for a run. “I’ll come back later.” 

The run didn’t help. 

Possessed by the thought that your master had looked beautiful in that vulnerable state, on the verge of crossing to the other side, you ran and ran but the thoughts didn’t go away. You were a pervert! 

After five hours of running laps around the premises, you were both winded and dizzy. 

But the gross part of you that wanted to go back and confirm… something… in Rengoku’s room hadn’t gone away. 

That was the last straw. You knew it for certain this time.

It was time to run away for real. 

With any luck, Rengoku would have selective amnesia and not remember that you existed when he woke up. Horrified with yourself, it took nothing to solidify your resolve this time. 

But, passing by a room that seemed to be Kocho’s office, you overheard something that twisted your stomach yet again, in another direction.

“How long will he be unconscious, do you think?” A man’s voice that you didn’t recognize came through the door.

Kocho responded. “It’s hard to say. But if he wakes up, he’ll probably be able to move in a couple of weeks. Ten days, if lucky.” She paused. “Why are you asking?”

The man’s voice spoke up again, soft but shrewd. “He’ll need to return to action right away. Things are escalating fast since an Upper Moon has revealed itself. The Master doesn’t want to let up while we have this chance.” 

You didn’t stay to hear Kocho’s reply. 

New resolve burned inside of you and you turned on your heel, rushing back to Rengoku’s room. You were so stupid. It didn’t matter if you thought he was pretty or if you were a pervert, or anything that happened in your own head as long as it stayed there. 

You let yourself back into his room. 

There was no way he was going back into battle like that. Clenching a fist at your side, blood pounding in your ears, you decided at that moment. You’d become Rengoku’s successor and take his place. It sounded so absurd, but watching him lying there, somehow hanging onto his Total Concentration Breathing, still pale from blood loss, you realized that your master was human. 

A little flame flickered to life in your heart.

As you watched color slowly return to your master’s face over the following days, you worked yourself to your limits, continuing your training regimen with renewed zeal. You conducted your Total Concentration Breathing exercises at Rengoku’s bedside, synchronizing your breaths with his quiet ones. 

In the middle of the night, eight days later, your master woke up. You had fallen asleep in the chair by his bed while you had been practicing your breathing. 

“Kujaku…?” His voice was just a tiny, strained whisper but your eyes snapped open anyway. 

“Master!” you exclaimed, jumping to your feet and knocking the chair over with a clatter. “Hold on, I’ll get Kocho-san.”

“Wait,” he said, his voice gaining strength by the second. “Don’t go.” 

“Master,” you said, turning around, your eyes full of tears. “I thought you were gonna die. I still think you might die. Please let me get Kocho-san. I couldn’t bear it if you died. I just couldn’t.” You excused yourself from the room. 

Kocho was nowhere to be found but you managed to locate Aoi, who was up early peeling radishes in the kitchen. She almost outran you back to Rengoku’s room, a tray of supplies in her hand.

“I’m going to sedate him,” she warned. “So he won’t move.”

“What?” you asked as you opened the door. “Why?”

She gave you a sharp look. “He’s probably in immense pain, but if he moves around or panics, he could bleed out.” 

“Oh.”

Sure enough, in the minute it had taken for you to get Aoi, he’d started to bleed again from the abdomen. Aoi cut the bandages away and you squeezed your eyes shut, unprepared for how the wound looked. He’d been pierced clean through and while the hole had started to close up, it still wept with fluid from his damaged organs. 

But Aoi seemed unaffected as she injected his arm with tranquilizer, “enough to put out a horse,” she’d noted dully. Sure enough, he passed out while she cleaned the wound and pressed it with a powdered gauze, the blood stopping in short order. 

“Can you help turn him, Kujaku-san?” She went around to the other side of the bed. “The wound goes through to the back.”

Silently, you helped turn him onto his side while she did the same routine to his back. The man literally had a hole in him. You fought back tears.

While Aoi wrapped his torso in fresh bandages, you helped move him around gingerly, terrified he might start bleeding again. 

“It’s best if he stays asleep for a little while more,” Aoi commented quietly. “Then, his blood pressure will stay the same. He’ll bleed if he wakes up too soon. Come get me if he wakes up again.” 

Left again in the quiet, you closed your eyes, troubled by the idea of looking at your master’s face, sleeping peacefully again. 

Rengoku slept for another three days, uninterrupted. 

The next time you saw him, Aoi was watering him with a teapot as if he was a plant and you stared from the doorway as she stacked pillows behind him, instructing him to let her move him instead of trying to sit up on his own. 

“I’ll help, Aoi-san.” You walked over and the two of you pulled him into a sitting position. 

Rengoku still seemed groggy and his eyelids were half closed as Aoi took his temperature. 

“I don’t know why I do this. This man has a fever whether he’s sick or not.” 

You could also feel the heat radiating off his skin from where you’d pulled him upright. “Kocho-san said it is because of his breathing technique.”

“She’s right,” Aoi confirmed, sticking the thermometer at you. “I’d bet you’re the same and you just didn’t notice.” You let her put the end of the thermometer under your tongue.

“Thirty-eight point six,” she hummed, pulling the thermometer out of your mouth. Not as high as him, but pretty close.” 

“I don’t feel like I have a fever,” you remarked. “I guess it really is the breathing technique.” 

Almost three months passed before you left the Butterfly Mansion. Kocho had informed you that while the other Demon Slayer Hashira were anxiously awaiting Rengoku’s return, they’d simply have no choice but to wait until he was recovered and rehabilitated. The look in her eyes informed you without a doubt that she wasn’t going to let him out until she was satisfied. To you, that was a relief. 

The day he was cleared to leave, you were glad to find that no one was waiting to drag him away outside the front gate. Peacefully, the two of you made your way back to the training ground, the little house waiting for your return. 

You hadn’t been back since the day you’d been to Ito’s grave. A feeling of loneliness ached inside and you knew there wouldn’t be a return to those days of training together. 

It was just you and your master, now, and the thought made you both lonely and determined. It would be only you now who could protect him. 

However, it turned out that Rengoku probably didn’t need protection. At the least, not from you.

Enthusiastic about sparring with you, he laid you out no fewer than thirteen times that afternoon with seemingly little effort. Again, you were sat on the rock as he cheerfully tended to your bruises and you stared up into the sky, beyond frustrated again at your own weakness. 

“Master, have I gotten weaker?” you asked, sighing as he pulled up your sleeve to get to a swollen lump on your forearm. You’d foolishly blocked his wooden sword with your arm. 

“No, not at all! In fact, you’ve become even stronger, Kujaku. I am so pleased to see how you’ve grown!” He gave you a familiar smile. 

“Though if you blocked a real sword with your arm, your arm would get chopped off, so please don’t do that again.” He seemed to be remembering something unpleasant. You made a face. 

“I won’t,” you promised.  

You watched Rengoku demonstrate it for the sixteenth time that day but no matter how many times you watched him do it, it didn’t result in you being able to generate enough force to turn a regular sweeping cut into the first form of Flame Breathing, Unknowing Fire. 

“Your Total Concentration Breathing is not reaching down to your blade,” he patiently explained as he tied your hand to the handle of your sparring sword with a sleeve tie. “Perhaps this will help you envision it. Focus.” 

Skeptical, you looked down at your hand, firmly bound. You took a deep breath. 

“The breath goes all the way to the tip of the blade.” He knelt and pressed his palm against your collar. “Breathe.” 

You closed your eyes and took in another breath, trying to envision it going past the tips of your fingers, into your sword. 

Seeming to consider something new, Rengoku stood up, his hand tightening around his own sword. 

“Let’s try a variation first. Usually, this would come after you master the regular form, but perhaps it will be easier for you.” He assumed a stance and charged toward a straw target but ran straight past it. As his back aligned with it, he abruptly turned, the form turning into a sweeping attack that arced in a half-moon. 

“The turning motion may help you gain more force.” He gestured for you to stand. “Try it, Kujaku.”

You drew in another deep breath, a radiant heat flowing all the way through you. 

“Flame Breathing, First Form! Unknowing Fire!”

You turned swiftly, the blade of your sword arcing out into the target. It wasn’t perfectly straight across, but you knew you’d done it, feeling the chipped wood move through the straw target like butter. The force sent you skidding across the dirt, a small cloud rising under your feet. 

You looked stunned. 

“Yes! That’s exactly it!” Rengoku grasped your shoulders and shook you with excitement. Your brain rattled around in your head as your bones and blood boiled from the heat of the technique. 

“Now you can easily cut off both your opponent’s arms like that.”

You looked confused. “Not the head?”

“Oh!” Rengoku looked confused, too. “Yes, you could do that!” 

You supposed that he must have cut a demon’s arms off like that once. The thought made you shiver. 

“Well, this is nice,” you concluded. “As long as I’m spinning the whole time, I won’t be defeated.”

Your master laughed, his hands on his hips. “You’ll become able to do the other forms, too! I believe in you!” 

Determined and delirious, you gripped the handle of your practice sword tightly.

“Again!” 

Chapter Text

Over the coming days, you struggled to master Flame Breathing, First Form and its variations. 

Frustrated with yourself as ever, though, there was no way you were getting anywhere with the Second Form. 

Elbows quivering from the effort, no matter how many times you tried, the attack failed to quite follow through in the way it was supposed to. It could be initiated from a few different stances, but even starting from the most stable one didn’t help you. 

On your forty-sixth failed attempt, Rengoku’s hands settled on your elbows, your arms still poised in the air, on the upper end of the cut. You panted heavily, sweat dripping down your face. 

“Don’t brace your elbows like this,” he suggested, moving them to bend slightly. “Let more power come from your shoulders. … Hmm.” He palpated your shoulder. 

“Let’s do some handstand push-ups.”

You sobbed. 

Feeling like you needed a boost, you panted, “Master? Can you… can you do the splits??”

He looked thoughtful. “Maybe! Hahaha!” 

You put your face in your hands as he hiked up the legs of his trousers and started sliding down into the splits. 

“Tada!! Hahaha! I didn’t know, so this is so interesting!”

Your tiny advantage slipped away like a fleeing butterfly. You stifled another sob, turning yourself upside-down to start doing the handstand push-ups. 

“Oh! Kujaku, you can do a handstand! That’s amazing.”

“K-Kanroji-san taught me,” you replied, feeling the blood rushing to your head. “One… ufff..”

It was on the sixth handstand push-up that the unthinkable happened. Arms trembling with fatigue, you lost your balance. Prepared for the hard smack of the ground, you clenched your eyes shut.

Except it didn’t come because Rengoku caught you in his arms, the look on his face as surprised as yours. 

He never had a problem with letting you fall flat on your ass before, so this was odd for the both of you. 

Clutched in his arms against his chest, you experienced a terrible, horrible premonition that started as a warmth in the pit of your stomach and spread in a flash with a heat faster than anything Total Concentration Breathing ever did for you. 

As it happened, you were developing some feelings for Rengoku. 

“Oop…” he muttered, tipping you back onto your feet. A wave of intense nausea washed over you and you clapped a hand over your mouth, overcome with self-disgust. 

Shooting him a terrified look, you did the only thing you could think of at that moment.

You ran away to go find a bush to puke in. 

The situation didn’t get any easier for you as the day went on. 

Rengoku, who thought your sudden nausea was related to the vertigo caused by the handstand push-ups, decided it was a good idea to put you through “Purgatory Vertigo Training” after you’d conveniently emptied your stomach. That was why, instead of weight training exercises, you had to do a whole ton of cartwheels instead that day.

You had the realization that the moment the littlest weakness appeared in you, Rengoku was there with a smile and a grinding stone to rub your nose on. 

But no matter what he put you through, you only wished you could dislike him. 

You found yourself sneaking glances at him more often in spite of yourself. With no apparent regard to his recent brush with death, he radiated more energy than ever, his pep talks even peppier and his blazing faith in your strength becoming so hard to turn away from. 

It was that faith that culminated in the final nail, pounded into your metaphorical coffin. 

“Kujaku,” he said at dinner two nights later, filling a deep noodle bowl with meat and potatoes. He plunked it onto the table in front of you and placed both of his hands on yours, causing a cold sweat to break out across your whole body. 

“I have something important to tell you.”

Tears welled in your eyes. 

“I knew it, Master,” you sniffed. “You’re about to die, aren’t you?!!”

He scowled. “No!! Why would you think that?!”

You wailed. “I think about it every day, Master! Are you unable to poop?! Your intestines were pierced! I saw them!”

He looked horrified. “You’ve seen my intestines?!”

“Yeah! And… and they were leaking this weird liqu–”

Rengoku squeezed your hand hard and you stopped. “I’m not about to die! So please don’t think like that, Kujaku.” You looked at him with quivering eyes, now hyper aware that he was holding your hands and that it felt nice. He smiled at you. 

“Have some faith in me.”

You nodded, biting your lip to try to pull your tears back in. 

“What I need to tell you is that I’ve decided to officially take you in as my Tsuguko.”

Your breath let out shakily. “I don’t know, Master. I can only do one form.” Inside, you were sure that the reason he was doing this was because he’d become overly acquainted with his own mortality in recent days. 

His hands tightened around yours again and his gaze, though half-obscured now with the patch he now wore over his left eye, burned into you, down to your core. You shrank before him. 

“Kujaku, I need you to have some faith in yourself, too.” 

You closed your eyes. Wasn’t this what you wanted? This was just the first step. You’d become Rengoku’s successor, and go to fight in his place. Was it that you thought that you weren’t strong? 

You knew in your heart of hearts that you’d grown. 

The flame in your heart wasn’t a raging conflagration like Rengoku’s. But it could at least be called steady, unwavering, and you understood that you’d grown stronger. 

You grasped Rengoku’s hands back, for a moment forgetting yourself and your feelings, only the look of resolve remaining. 

“I understand, Master. It’s my honor to become your Tsuguko.” 

His whole presence lit up. “Kujaku, I couldn’t be more honored to have you as my successor. From now on, I consider you a member of my family! It is the greatest honor of my life to be your cultivator. I am fully confident you will surpass me one day! It is only a matter of time!”

You gulped. Somehow, the idea of being considered as your Master’s family member intimidated you more than the idea of trying to surpass him. 

Also, now…

It would be impossible for you to run away. 

The thought of running away almost made you laugh out loud. After all of this, it would just be evil of you to run away. You recognized immediately that becoming Rengoku’s successor chained you to him for life and was not such a lighthearted thing to accept. 

The idea of being connected to Rengoku for the rest of your life both bothered you and didn’t bother you for the simple reason that you were harboring deeper feelings for your master. But this was an even more unspeakable matter now. 

You regretted it for a moment, agreeing so quickly. 

Of course, there had to be a special feast in celebration. It turned out to be the next evening’s dinner, after you’d nearly torn your arms from their sockets from another couple hundred fruitless attempts to execute the Second Form. 

It just wasn’t happening. But what was happening was that an avalanche of soba noodles was coasting toward you, topped with about fifty pieces of tempura. You squeezed your eyes shut. If this was going to be the rest of your life, you had to finally say something. 

“Master, there’s no way I can eat this much.”

He immediately scooped some of the noodles back into the strainer. 

“Oh! Sorry about that.”

You dropped your face into your hands. That was all it took!?

Three days later, you had an encounter with a ghost. 

Your father had interesting ideas about ghosts. Growing up, you always had to listen to his theories. 

One of his more enthusiastic ideas was that when you die and become a ghost, your ghost appears as you when you were at the best point in your life. 

“That’s why when I die, I’m going to be a hot, young twenty-two year old stud,” he’d explained, sounding like he was already looking forward to it. 

This was the first thing that popped into your mind the day you met Rengoku Senjuro, your master’s younger brother. 

Just returning from your morning run for breakfast, you saw him standing out by the road that led up to the guest house, and you skidded to a halt, clapping both hands over your mouth, your eyes pricking with tears.

Master died! Oh God, he died last night and I didn’t even notice! And now he’s a ghost!

You stared from a distance at Rengoku’s mini doppelganger, horrified. You didn’t even know where Rengoku went at night or what he did. Did he get called on a mission without your knowledge while you were asleep? You crept slightly closer. 

It was definitely him, but small. 

Choked up, you fell to your knees. The thump alerted mini-Rengoku to your presence and he started trotting toward you with a concerned look on his face. 

“Are… are you alright?” he said in a boyish voice that made your tears start to fall in earnest. 

“M-Master…! You wailed, grabbing the boy by the forearms. “I’m sorryyy! I couldn’t protect you and now…!” Your wails drowned out any other words. 

“H-Huh?!” The boy looked shocked and confused but he pulled one of his arms from your grip so he could pat you gently on the head. 

“There, there…”

“Wahhh!!! WAAAaahhh!!!”

Up the path, the door to the little house slid open. 

“Senjuro! You came all this way by yourself? … What did you do to Kujaku?!” Rengoku called down to you and you startled, looking up. Your master stood in the doorway, very much alive. 

“W-Well, I came to spar, but…” He looked down. You were now in a puddle at the boy’s feet. Rengoku ran over and tugged you upright. You turned your head to face him, aghast.

“I thought you were dead, Master!!”

He grinned but it was scary. “Stop thinking I’m dead! And, why?!” 

“I thought you became a ghost!”

He shook his head, looking confused. “Kujaku, this is my younger brother, Senjuro. Senjuro, this is uh… my Tsuguko, Kujaku _____-san.” 

Hearing Rengoku say your given name for the first time in a while got your blood pumping. You bowed low. 

“It’s a pleasure, Senjuro-kun.” 

Still looking very confused, he bowed to you. “Likewise, Kujaku-san.” 

Senjuro was so cute. You stifled your excitement. “You can just call me, _____, Senjuro-kun.”

“No way, I can’t do that.”

What a serious young man. 

He wore a serious expression as he faced you down, holding a sparring sword, too. You wondered if your master had looked like this when he was younger. So cute. 

But something seemed different about Senjuro. His stance was tense. The look in his eye, while focused, lacked any sense of aggression. He faced you down as if you were an arithmetic exercise in a notebook. Somehow, you felt completely unmotivated to spar him. 

Why were you sparring Rengoku’s younger brother all of the sudden, anyway? 

“Begin!” 

It was over before it really began. 

You hadn’t meant to put the boy on the ground but he somehow ended up there anyway, taking your strike to his completely unguarded left side as if he’d gotten run over by a bull. He skidded fantastically on his face along the ground for an impossible distance. Horrified, you rushed to his side, rolling him over and propping him up on your arm.

“What the fuck, I mean, what the heck?!” He winced in your arms and you pressed the clean side of your sleeve against the long scrape he had on his cheek. “I am so sorry, Senjuro-kun! I didn’t think you…”

Would be so weak?!

Rengoku strode over, the tin of ointment in his hand. 

“Hahaha! I see you’ve been training hard, Senjuro!” 

You stared incredulously, the boy’s body as limp as a rag doll against your shoulder as Rengoku dabbed on the ointment. 

Training… at what?! Eating the ground?!

Eh, you really didn’t have any stones to throw there. You were very familiar with the taste of dirt. 

It seemed Senjuro had failed to inherit the monstrous Rengoku strength. 

He sat, quiet and respectful on the rock as you faced his older brother this time in a match. Somehow, you felt compelled to show off and win, now having a little audience. 

Unfortunately, it seemed your master had the same idea, your round against him lasting about as long as the one you’d had against Senjuro, but not in your favor. 

“Can’t leave your left flank open like that, Kujaku!” 

Ah, he’d gotten you the same way you got his brother. Karmic justice. You joined Senjuro on the loser rock. 

Rengoku held up a finger. “Since I win, I get to choose what we have for dinner.”

You scowled. “You always choose what we eat for dinner, Master!”

He beamed. “That’s because I always win!” 

You grumbled quietly, though you always liked the things you had for dinner. Senjuro laughed next to you and you felt bad for whining because he was so cute. 

Dinner was beef hot pot. Unlike his older brother, Senjuro had a small appetite. You stared as you chewed a slice of konnyaku. The two brothers were nearly identical except for their ages but their insides seemed to differ dramatically. You thought about how you would describe it and it came to you as you swallowed.

“Yeah, Senjuro-kun is normal.” 

“Hm?” Rengoku perked up. “This is delicious!! Let’s add more!” He shoved another platter of meat into the simmering pot. 

“Brother, if you put it in all at once, it’ll get overcooked.”

Rengoku laughed. “It won’t if we eat it fast!” 

Hm, yes. You realized you’d fallen for a weird man. The thought bubbled up to the surface as natural and unintended as a sneeze. But the disgusted look on your face couldn’t be ignored. 

“Kujaku-san, did it not taste good…?” Senjuro’s small voice interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes moved to him, blinking.

“No, it’s quite good. Why?”

Senjuro looked concerned. “No reason, I guess.” The expression faded from your face as your thoughts gratefully moved on, and you put some mushroom and chrysanthemum leaves on your dish. The bitterness of the greens dragged you back into the moment. 

“Anyway, I’m glad.” Senjuro raised his eyebrows at his brother, who was stacking meat onto his dish too enthusiastically. “Brother, I can’t possibly eat that much!”

Rengoku put some of the meat back. “Sorry!” 

That’s really all it takes!

Senjuro gave you a shy smile. “I’m really glad Brother has a strong Tsuguko like you, Kujaku-san. It puts my mind at ease.” 

You coughed. “I still have a long way to go,” you said, touching a hand to the bruise you now had on your left ribs. “As you can see.”

He shook his head. “You’re amazing, Kujaku-san! I wish I could be strong like you, but it just never seems to work out…” He wore a disappointed look on his face. “I just have to accept that I wasn’t meant to be a swordsman. But after meeting you, I feel a lot better.”

The pressure was on, now. 

Senjuro stayed the night and for the first time since you met your master, you struggled to sleep. Conflicting thoughts filled your mind, whirling around and refusing to stop. 

How could you be the successor to Flame Breathing? Bitterly, you realized in a part of your mind that you didn’t want to revisit, that it should have been Ito. You wondered how many forms he would have mastered by now if he were still alive. You envisioned him performing the vicious upwards arcing slash that was the Second Form, Rising Scorching Sun. Still, you couldn’t manage it. 

You rolled up into a ball inside your futon, holding back tears. 

It should have been him. 

You knew what your master would say if you shared these thoughts. 

“You’ll be strong for the both of you! I have complete faith in you, Kujaku!”

Yeah, that’s exactly what he’d say. But being as strong as Ito was no meager feat in itself. And not only that, you were sure in your heart that Ito wouldn’t do something so stupid like fall in love with your master. No, that stupidity was specially reserved for you. 

Gripping your knees to your chest, you really wished you could run away. 

Senjuro left the next morning after breakfast, reminding you how relieved he was that his brother had “such a strong and reliable Tsuguko.” You waved after him, nursing a new kind of stress that you were unfamiliar with: the pressure of being depended upon. 

After Senjuro was gone, Rengoku turned to you with an inquisitive smile on his face.

“Hm! Something appears to be on your mind, Kujaku.” He waited for you to explain yourself.

But it was impossible for you to say anything about any of the thoughts that plagued you. You searched his face for an answer to your stress and longing but didn’t find it there. So, you just shook your head.

“It’s nothing, Master,” you replied, walking away.

Chapter Text

“Master, stop!” You shouted as Rengoku’s sparring sword deflected off yours with a hard clap. The impact sent your arms flying over your head and you leapt backward with the force, trying to gain distance. But he was in your face again in an instant, the edge of his wooden sword hurtling toward your shoulder. 

You ducked and felt the wind pass not an inch over your head. 

“Come on, Kujaku!” Rengoku sent you flying backward again with a barely blocked blow from the tip of his sword. “If you have something to protect from me, then defeat me!” 

Now angry, you swung back at him recklessly, teeth gritted. “Don’t be an ass, Master!” You continued bashing at him, though he defended off each strike with ease, staring you down. 

For the first time, you sensed irritation coming off of him in waves, which just served to annoy you more. “I don’t want to talk about it with you!” 

Your sword clacked hard against his, the wood chipping slightly from the force. 

This scene was the outcome of a terrible, half-assed decision you’d made that morning when you’d woken up from a guilty dream, to Confess Your Forbidden Love.

Still half-asleep, you’d served Rengoku his miso soup at breakfast, mistakenly seeing hidden meaning in every little gesture. As he accepted the bowl, his hands had brushed yours. 

In hindsight, it was so stupid. But that tiny feeling of his skin on yours turned you on so hard that you’d foolishly blurted out that you had something to say to him and it was important. 

Taking him by the hand, you led him to the rock and sat him on it, prepared to dish out a full monologue and proclaim your undying feelings for him.

And with that, you finished waking up and promptly realized the horrible thing you were about to do. 

No amount of backpedaling would fully get you out of the hole you’d dug yourself into at that point, though, and still staring down into your master’s patient face, you’d told him that it was nothing, you had absolutely nothing important to confess to him, and since it was such a lovely day, you were going to hide yourself in the forest and it would be best if he didn’t come looking for you. 

Of course, as your master, it was Rengoku’s responsibility to expose and polish away even the littlest vulnerability in you. And this was a big one. 

As you’d balked, a terrifying, closed-lipped smile spread across his face and the next thing you knew, he was coming at you with all his strength. 

“There’s no hiding from me, Kujaku!”

Rengoku frowned. His angry expression, complete with thick furrowed brows, made him look like a wild animal and you fought back your apprehension. He was as strong as ever, despite his injuries, and any thoughts of holding back for them escaped you as he raised his arms, preparing for what would be a definite killshot if he had a real katana in his hands. 

“Flame Breathing, Third Form! Blazing Universe!”

You met his strike with the edge of your own sword but underestimated the force that came behind it. Elbows aflame with pain as they absorbed the shock, you turned your body, hoping he’d somehow fail to follow through and fall on his face, but he wasn’t anywhere near such an amateur. Realizing this immediately, you turned tail and ran. 

It seemed your master hadn’t expected you to turn your back to him and the moment of hesitation he showed before running after you gave you the distance you needed. You abruptly switched directions, launching yourself back toward him off a rock. 

Hurling yourself forward, you dove into a handspring, your legs splitting apart as your body whirled around upside down like a corkscrew.

“Reverse Kitty Paw–” 

You balanced yourself on one hand, the rest of your body parallel to the ground, kicking out like a lever.

“Screw-You Kick!” 

Feeling your leg hit something unexpectedly, you realized you didn’t know how to land when this move that Kanroji had taught you actually struck something. Somehow, you righted yourself, your fist tightening around your sparring sword as your feet skidded along the ground. 

Not sparing a moment to consider where to strike or with how much force, you hurled your sword down toward the blur that you sensed was your master’s body and–

Had you realized a split second later, you would have crushed his windpipe with it. 

Stopping not an inch away, you stared, chest heaving, at what you’d done. 

Rengoku was laid out flat on his back, your wooden sword barely touching his exposed throat. He stared up at you in shock, his eye wide with surprise. 

But then his face softened and he smiled at you as he sat up. Tugging you down to him by the wrist, he hugged you tight.

“Kujaku, that was amazing!! I am so proud! Well done!” 

You froze, unable to believe what had just happened, your cheeks very hot. He grasped you by the shoulders, pushing you back so he could watch your face, and he beamed at you, pride shining in his flushed expression. 

For the first time, he’d broken a sweat sparring you but all you could think about was how close your face was to his. 

Without thinking, you put the lightest little kiss on his cheek before you pulled yourself out of his grasp and stood up, reaching down to help him to his feet.

“A kiss?” Rengoku asked as you helped him up, still smiling. He put his hand to his cheek, looking thoughtful. 

You tried to smile back but it just looked like an awkward grimace.

“Happy birthday,” you said, trying to be casual. 

Rengoku laughed. “My birthday is in May, but alright then!” 

Of course, it was now September. 

“Happy belated birthday,” you corrected yourself, walking away since you weren’t able to look him in the eye any more. 

But you had to go back to him, because your victory wouldn’t be complete if you didn’t sit him on the rock and paste over the bruises you caused when you’d kicked him. The feeling was so satisfying that you couldn’t stop grinning as you applied the poultice. 

As you wrapped cotton over the ointment to keep it from rubbing off, you noticed that your master was staring at you intently. 

“What is it?” You tucked the ends of the cotton under the wraps neatly. 

He smiled politely at you. “May I have another one?” 

You frowned. “Another what? Another bruise?” You picked up your sparring sword again. “I’m not sure I can get that lucky twice, Master.” 

His smile widened. “No, not that! Another kiss.” He pointed to his forehead. “Right here.”

Your frown turned into a scowl. “Master! It’s rude to make fun of people.”

He laughed. “I’m not making fun of you, Kujaku! I just never had a kiss before and it was nice!” He paused, regarding you still with the same polite look on his face. “But if it was a special, limited, one-time present, I understand!” 

Your heart pounded in your chest as he continued to watch you, hopeful but patient. You couldn’t bear the innocent look on his face. You felt like some evil pervert!

“Erm…” 

He held up his hands. “It’s alright, Kujaku!” He started to look flustered. 

You leaned forward and pressed your lips against Rengoku’s heated forehead in just the spot he’d asked for. 

But when you backed away, he had the most bizarre, conflicted expression on his face: red and dizzyingly bright, completely flustered, and weirdly happy. You slid off the rock, backing away rapidly. 

It wasn’t you who was the pervert! He was!

“Ahhhh!!!!” You started sprinting in the opposite direction, avidly aware of the fact that you were trapped and alone with this person and he could easily catch you if he really wanted to. 

“Thanks, Kujaku!” he called after you and you sprang into a tree, clambering up it as fast as you could. 

“Ask Senjuro-kun next time!!” Screaming, you clung to a branch, hating everything. 

“What? I guess I could do that…” Rengoku started to slowly climb up after you and you held your breath, every muscle tensed like a trapped cat. He hoisted himself easily onto the branch adjacent to the one you were on. 

“But I think a kiss from you is much more exciting!” 

You gaped at him. “Why?! I’m your Tsuguko! I might as well be your child! I’m going to puke!” The revulsion you felt, though Rengoku wouldn’t know, was mostly directed at yourself. 

He looked confused. “I don’t think of you that way at all, Kujaku!”

Fully panicking, you asked, “Then, how do you think of me, Master?!”

Rengoku just started laughing again, seeming completely relaxed. “I think of you as my equal, of course! And, I love you!”

Feeling more catlike than ever, you leapt from the tree, landing on all fours. Your instincts took over and you regretted the words the moment they escaped you as you started running away again. “Well, I don’t love you! That’s weird!” 

A thud from behind you informed you that he was chasing you. Absently, you thought that the thing that would make this activity complete would be the simple addition of spike pits. 

“That’s really unfortunate, Kujaku!” He called after you again as you dove into the forest, trying to throw him off. “Being a Demon Slayer is much easier when you have a heart that loves people!”

“I’m a stone cold lone wolf who needs no one besides the steely light of the winter moon!” 

Now ranting some nonsense, your feet slid along fallen pine needles as you sped up. You could hear Rengoku laughing a short distance away and your heart leapt into your throat. 

“That’s not true at all, Kujaku!” Suddenly, his voice was right next to your ear and you skidded to a halt, going as stiff as a board as you felt Rengoku throw his arms around you. 

“Captured you!”

You let out a terrified squeak. 

“Oh, calm down, Kujaku, it’s just me.” Rengoku sat you down on the forest floor, holding you firmly, your back pressed tight against his torso and your arms pinned to your sides. 

“I’m not going to eat you. Now, I’ll talk, and you can listen until you settle yourself.”

You were shocked into silence.

“Flame Breathing has a long history within the Rengoku family. In every era, there has undoubtedly been a Water and a Flame Hashira.” His voice was slow and it was right by your ear, not helping you steady your racing pulse much. 

Of course, you knew this. It was common knowledge that a member of the Rengoku family held a position within the Demon Slayer Hashira at all times. That was why you’d never be able to completely succeed your master. You knew this, but the truth didn’t help you move forward. 

Rather than calmed, you just felt sad. 

“I can’t properly succeed you, Master,” you said dully. “But I didn’t want you to return to the Hashira after you were so badly hurt. I thought that even if I couldn’t succeed you, I could at least try to fight in your place.” 

“Well,” Rengoku started, his voice gentle. “That isn’t your decision to make, Kujaku.” 

You hung your head. “You’re right, it was arrogant of me.” 

His stare bored into you and you felt intense shame build in your stomach. It wasn’t just that you lacked enough strength to protect Rengoku. Of course, your master’s life was his own. 

“That being said, you are so admirable for wanting it! And working hard toward it. Also, I am so gratified to know that no matter what you say, your heart definitely loves your master! How exciting!”

Your mind ground to a screeching halt. 

“Wait, that’s the conclusion you’ve made from that?!”

Rengoku chuckled. “Well, it’s obvious!” 

“Believe whatever you want, Master.” You were sure he was just playing with you at this point.

“... Can I?!” His voice was right next to your ear again. Your heart leapt and you knew he felt it because he didn’t wait for you to come up with a reply.

“Hahaha, alright then!” 

You started wriggling. “Can you let me up?!”

“Nope!” He stared out into the distance, arms still locked around you. “This is a good use of our time right now! Think of it as part of your training!”

“This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me!” You wailed. 

He let out a lighthearted chuckle. “There are so many worse things I could do to you than this, Kujaku! So, don’t say that.”

Your blood ran cold. “I knew it! You are a pervert, Master!”

He gripped you tighter. “What?! Why would you ever think that, Kujaku? But, thank you! I suppose that my passion for training you into the ultimate Demon Slayer comes across in all sorts of interesting ways! Hahaha!”

There was no rebutting him. 

Though you wouldn’t admit it aloud, this wasn’t bad at all. You just couldn’t be totally honest about it. Rengoku had painstakingly burned away every single barrier you could possibly put up against him as he’d trained you, exposing every little weakness and vulnerability. 

Surely, this secret was the last thing, if anything, you could protect from Rengoku’s searing strength. 

But, sitting there on the forest floor in his arms, you almost didn’t want to. 

Chapter Text

No matter how many times you explained, he just didn’t understand. 

“I think it is possible!” he exclaimed, holding up a single white chicken’s egg between his thumb and forefinger. “I cannot do it on my own, but if we both concentrate hard, we can probably cook it!”

You sighed. “Master, if we were really able to raise our body temperatures enough to give off enough heat to cook an egg, the egg wouldn’t be the only thing cooked.” 

You and I would be cooked, too!

“Hmm…” Rengoku beamed. “Well, maybe we can’t cook it as fast as a stove can, but if we let it sit between us for a long time, maybe it will be cooked that way!”

You stared, really wondering where this conversation was supposed to lead. It wasn’t until that evening that you found out, as you found yourself sharing your futon with your master. With a raw egg lodged between your shoulders. 

Egg or no egg, there was no way you were sleeping like that. Frozen stiff, you stared up at the ceiling, your breathing too erratic to properly concentrate. Ironically, your blood felt cold as ice. Contrary to you, Rengoku was peacefully resting, his breaths deep and even. An intense heat radiated off his skin. Somehow, in his sleep, he was totally concentrating on cooking the egg. You found it even harder to relax, one side of your body unnaturally warm and the other quite cold. 

Your master had a childish side to him. It was one of the things that made him likable but if this went on much longer, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to bring your heart back to normal. 

That was when you decided to single handedly crush your master’s dreams. Literally.

You rolled slightly in the futon toward him. A tiny cracking sound confirmed your success– you’d broken the egg. Now he could give it u–

At the sound of the shell breaking, Rengoku’s eye flashed open. 

“Ufff!” Suddenly, you found yourself crushed against his chest as his arm flew from the covers and captured you, in the middle of committing your tiny crime, smashing your face down against his body. Your heart nearly escaped through your mouth. 

“Master, wha–”

“Kujaku, what was that sound?” Despite the speed of his reaction, his voice was shockingly calm. 

“I broke the egg,” you admitted. 

“Oh! Hm. What a mess.” Rengoku sat up, still clutching you tightly. Helpless, your back bent at an awkward angle. 

“Can you let me go?” Your voice was muffled against your master’s clothes. His skin still felt unbelievably hot. As if he didn’t even realize you were there, he pulled his arm away and you rolled out of the futon, your shoulder now wet with raw egg. 

It took a while to clean the egg out of your clothes and futon, but as Rengoku happily pointed out for you, the two of you could go back to sleep in his futon while yours dried! You allowed yourself a quiet sob. 

No sleep for you. But at least he seemed to have given up on the egg for now. 

That left just you and him, pressed shoulder to shoulder, and you felt hotter than ever. 

If you weren’t going to sleep, you might as well go on a walk or do something productive. It seemed like a good idea to take a walk in the dark for once, to test your night vision. After all, demons only came out in the dark. 

As carefully and silently as you could, you shimmied out of the covers. 

But a warm hand closed around your wrist and you knew that it would be just too easy if you’d been spared this one hardship, after all. 

“Don’t go,” Rengoku muttered, seemingly awake but not all the way. You remembered when he’d woken up, still gravely injured, asking you to stay.

You sat outside the covers, wrist in your master’s grip, fighting with yourself. 

“Why?” You asked aloud, your voice clear and loud in the silent dark. “Why shouldn’t I go?”

You heard Rengoku take a deep breath and sit up in the futon, definitely awake now. “I want you to stay, Kujaku.”

“Part of my training?” Your shoulders trembled at the complicated mixture of emotions you were experiencing. 

Rengoku didn’t answer right away, but when he did, his voice sounded sure.

“No.”

“Then, what?” Your brow creased and you were sure that you were wearing a very conflicted expression on your face. 

His hand tightened around your wrist, almost too hard. As he moved toward your back, you felt the warmth radiating off him, though he wasn’t close enough to touch you. 

“I just want you to stay, Kujaku.” His voice was almost as heated as he was. Somehow, it made you furious. 

“That’s not right, Master,” you rebutted, eyes squeezing shut. You’d suppressed your feelings for a real reason, allowing them to get twisted up and confused inside of you. You’d be damned before you allowed Rengoku to get away with having the same type of feelings for you so easily in spite of your efforts. 

And what reasons were those? Your heart ached with longing and you closed your fist around nothing.

“It’s about having integrity,” you thought aloud. “Loyalty before love. Greater convictions before personal feelings.”

Rengoku stopped, his hand loosening from your arm. You stood up, pulling yourself free. 

“Sorry, Master. I’m going to take a walk.” You let yourself out, leaving no room for further discussion. 

The next morning, it was as though nothing happened. 

You returned from your four-hour run to a generous breakfast. Rengoku, in exceedingly good spirits, piled rice into a bowl for you and handed you a towel to wipe your sweat on as you sat down at the table, decidedly much less cheerful than him. Not only had you not slept a wink, but you felt terrible, for what you’d said and what you felt. You ate in silence, punctuated only by your master intermittently expressing his appreciation for the meal. 

Sword practice included no sparring. Instead, your master instructed you to move on from the Second Form, which you’d failed to successfully execute, and learn the Third Form, Blazing Universe. 

This was the first time your master had ever given up on something with you. The realization of this brought your spirits down even further. 

The noon hour brought a crow, who silently descended onto the head of the straw target you were practicing with. 

“Lawrence!” you exclaimed, recognizing the little violet ascot he’d asked you to tie on him the day you’d met him after the Final Selection. “I haven’t seen you in ages. I thought you were dead.”

He seemed to give you a stern look. “Not dead, _____! Simply becoming more cultured!” 

You frowned back. “You’re a crow, Lawrence. Why do you need to become cultured?” Lawrence (he’d named himself), fancied himself a dandy and strove to be a worldly, educated gentlecrow, fashionable both inside and out. Rumor had it, he also spoke fluent English. Of course, this was totally useless to you, so you ignored it, much to Lawrence’s chagrin. He was a very proud sort. 

“The world favors the Renaissance Man, _____! A simpleton such as yourself wouldn’t possibly understand, though. Anyway! You have a mission.” 

“Again, you are a crow. And I’m not a simpleton, Lawrence! You’d think you could be a little nicer, considering you haven’t seen me in months…” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Anyway, that’s a surprise. I haven’t had a mission this whole time.”

“You haven’t been physically well enough for a mission,” he harrumphed, turning up his beak at you. “You’re always covered in bruises, so you were the last choice on the list. But putting that aside, you need to head north. You can reach the destination on foot. Go due north until you reach a craggy mountain. Then, head east to the village at the foot near the seashore. A demon hunts there!” 

You stuck out your arm. “Are you going to come with me, Lawrence?”

“But, of course.” Lawrence’s tone suddenly became weirdly submissive. He hopped onto your arm obediently. 

“Er, alright then.” 

Your master had gone back to handle some correspondence he’d recently received from headquarters, though you did not know what it was. You hiked back to the house, your sparring sword still clutched at your side. You wished you didn’t have to face him. 

As fate would have it, you didn’t have to. 

Sliding the front door open, you suddenly thought you were having a nightmare. 

Your master was sprawled facedown on the tatami, a puddle of blood soaking into the mats. 

“Shit!” you cursed, throwing aside the wooden sword with a clatter. Without removing your shoes, you dashed over the threshold and threw yourself to your knees, rolling him over onto his side. He coughed gently and blood spurted from his lips. 

“Master!” Your attention switched to Lawrence, who was thankfully still with you. “Lawrence, fly and get help! Please!” 

“But, your mission, _____?”

You scowled. “If you don’t go right now and come back immediately with a doctor, I will boil you into soup! The mission can wait.”

Lawrence bobbed his head with irritation. “Your orders were to go immediately, _____. I will fetch assistance when you depart, but–”

You cut him off. “Lawrence, this man is a Hashira!! Don’t you make me repeat myself, I am warning you!”

As if weighing the options in his mind, Lawrence hesitated but then spread his wings before hopping back out the door and taking to the sky without another word. 

With Lawrence gone, your eyes scanned over Rengoku’s body and you found yourself at a total loss. Silent, you listened for his breathing. It was there, but shallow and wet. It sounded like there was blood in his airway. 

“Master?” You shook him lightly, but he did not respond. You knew how to help someone who was choking, but the spot you would need to apply force to was so near where he had been wounded that you were too afraid to do anything. Panicked, you rolled him onto his other shoulder and struck him hard on the back with the heel of your hand. 

Why was this happening?! You could only guess that he was bleeding somewhere inside, but there was nothing you could do. 

Rengoku coughed again, a little harder this time, and blood leaked from his mouth and nose. Horrified, you watched, and though it had only been a minute, you surged with frustration that Lawrence hadn’t yet returned with help. You reached forward and tried to help him clear the blood from his nose so he could breathe, but the same ominous rattling sound was audible when he took in a shallow breath. 

You clutched him tightly, helpless and on the brink of tears. All you could do was wait and make sure that you could hear his breaths. 

After what felt like an eternity, a pair of Kakushi burst through the front door. Lawrence followed them in as they wordlessly began to administer first aid. You silently vowed to learn how to do some of these kinds of things for the future. 

“The doctor is on the way in a car,” said one of them, unceremoniously scraping fluid out of Rengoku’s mouth with a finger. “Five minutes away.” 

“Thank you,” you sobbed, feeling totally pathetic. You turned to your crow. “I’m sorry, Lawrence. I was just panicking. Thank you for helping.” 

He puffed up his chest, the purple ascot fluffing out. 

The doctor came and went, your master with him, and you found yourself alone suddenly, deeply unsettled. Lawrence perched at your side.

“Are you ready, _____?”

You were anything but ready. The events of the day you parted with Ito played out in your mind. Your first mission in months, an encounter with a man-eating demon all but certain, and you were alone, your master’s life yet again an open question. 

You remembered turning away from him the previous night, leaving him alone despite that he’d wanted you to stay. To this point, you’d done it twice. You buried your face in your hands with the premonition that he wouldn’t be there before long. 

Numb all over, you changed into your uniform and slid your katana into its place on your hip. 

“Yeah, let’s go, Lawrence.” 

You ran as hard and as fast as you could. With your delay, you would need more speed to reach the village before sundown. The more time you had to gather information in the daylight, the better. 

Your thoughts tried to focus on the mission at hand but strayed inevitably to your master, the image of him on the floor, the vulnerable look on his face when he asked you to stay by his side. 

You frowned. The more you thought about it, the more you doubted your own interpretation. Your master couldn’t possibly have feelings for you in that way. You’d misread him completely, led in the wrong direction by your own feelings of attraction. 

But in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter. If you didn’t hurry it up, there would be lives other than your own utterly lost. Your feet quickened to a reckless pace. 

You didn’t know it, but as Lawrence watched you from above, you looked like a blur of flame. He flapped hard to keep up with you, his ascot waving in the wind.

Chapter Text

Why would a demon hunt in such a desolate place? 

You’d thought that the area the training ground was located in was rural, but this was on another level entirely. A tiny fishing village rose humbly before you as you ran and you wondered if you’d gotten the wrong place. You looked up to the sky to find Lawrence keeping pace. By the look of the light, you had about three hours left before the sun would set. 

Three hours would be plenty in such a sparsely inhabited spot. You counted the huts. There were only seven of them. Your heart dropped, wondering if it was possible that no one would be left alive by this point. 

But there was a noise and the hairs on the back of your neck prickled. You dove to the ground just in time to hear a loud crack above your head. 

“Stop!” you shouted. You immediately knew you’d been shot at. 

You heard the distinct sound of a rifle being reloaded. Shit. 

You really thought it would be pathetic to get killed by a human on your mission before the sun even finished going down. Throwing all caution to the wind, you hurled yourself toward the sound, trying to reach it before the shooter could take aim at you again. 

It was the broken window of an old shed. You hoisted yourself inside. 

To your surprise, you found just a young woman wearing an apron and she startled as you grabbed her by the arms. The rifle and cartridge clattered to the ground and you kicked it away into the shadows, as far as you could. 

“Let me go, foul demon!” she screamed, wriggling defiantly as you pinned her arms from behind. “I’ll kill you!”

“That’s my line, idiot!” you retorted, irritation building. “Do I look like a demon?!” 

She twisted her head to glare at you and you scowled back, grip tightening on her wrists. 

“No…”

You sighed. “Well, that makes my explanation a little faster, then. Can I let you go? Are you gonna flip out on me? You’re probably not going to win.” Lawrence swooped in through the open window. 

“Recon!” he announced. “Rendezvous in twenty minutes!”

“Yeah, go on Lawrence,” you said, ignoring the woman’s exclamation of surprise when he talked. You let go of her arms and she rubbed her wrists, still glaring daggers. 

“I’m Kujaku _____,” you said. “I was sent here to investigate a demon attack. I’m a member of the Demon Slayer Corps. Can you explain what’s going on here?” 

The woman visibly slumped. “My name’s Arai Fumiko. As you can see, this is a small fishing village.” She squinted at you in the dimness of the shed. “Let’s go to my house. It’ll be better than this old shed.” 

You gathered the rifle off the floor gingerly but you didn’t hand it to her. “Why were you camping out in this shed, anyway, Arai-san?” She led you from the shed and down a path that led closer to the shore. A small hut stood there and she beckoned you inside. 

“The villagers are taking turns guarding from that shed,” she explained, immediately putting on a kettle. You leaned her weapon against the wall of the earthen kitchen. Sniffing, you noticed a familiar smell. A pig-shaped incense burner sat on top of a cabinet. You peeked inside. 

“Wisteria incense. This didn’t work, Arai-san?”

She just shook her head. “No, not against this one.” 

“It sounds like this isn’t your first experience with a demon.” You looked around the hut curiously. It was just one room and a kitchen, but it seemed comfortable enough. 

Arai gestured you down onto a cushion and gave you a cup of hot tea. “This village has always known demons. Wisteria charms and incense are usually enough to keep them from our homes at night, but no one who has grown up in this village would ever be caught out after dark.” Arai’s voice was low and troubled. 

“A Demon Slayer who came here many years ago taught us to use the wisteria incense to ward away attacks, and since then, as long as we don’t wander out at night, it’s been safe here. But this time, it’s not working.”

You glanced back at the incense burner in the kitchen. “Is there a reason demons like to come here, Arai-san? No offense, but it doesn’t look like there are many people living here.”

Arai brought a hand to her throat and the expression on her face looked lost. “The Demon Slayer said one other thing. That this village’s people all have something called ‘marechi.’ Apparently, the demons like our blood. But we can’t do anything about our blood…” 

Ah, the power of inbreeding. 

“How long has this new demon been seen for?” You swallowed a mouthful of tea. 

“The past two nights. Last night, it stole and ate a little boy from a home a bit down the shore from here, Mori-san’s son. He was just a few months old.” Arai’s hands started to tremble as if she couldn’t quite believe her own words. 

Lawrence appeared in the kitchen. “Nothing to report!” he noted, looking around for snacks. 

“Can you walk me around the village, Arai-san?” you requested. You wanted to know how large the perimeter was. It was likely that you would just have to patrol until the demon appeared. 

Agreeing, she took the arm you offered her and walked you down the shore, showing you the homes that were there, including Mori’s house, that had just lost its little boy. The smell of funerary incense wafted out of the house and you turned your head away, the scent dredging up unwelcome thoughts of Ito. Thoughts of Ito led to thoughts of your master and you couldn’t afford to be distracted from the task at hand. 

The best place to keep watch was probably the roof of the shed from earlier, so you instructed Arai to go home and burn twice the normal amount of wisteria incense. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you settled a hand on your katana, your general sense of overwhelm layering everything with a fine haze of numbness. 

Stars studded the clear night sky and there was even a large moon that cast a bluish, silvery glow over the village. The sound of the ocean waves calmed you in spite of yourself. It would be so easy to just not return after this. You knew your master was in good hands. Your presence would do nothing for him at this point. 

Honestly, it would have been impossible for you to ignore it even if you’d wanted to. 

A huge, slimy mass was dragging itself onto the shore, just slightly south of where you were standing on the roof of the shed. You could tell in spite of the distance that it was the size of three men put together, and lacked a well defined shape, but as it dragged itself up onto the beach, you could hear it huff with the effort. 

You drew your katana warily. There was a distinct possibility that it was not as slow as its body size and movements indicated. Sliding down the sloped roof of the shed, you crept forward as you assumed a stance. 

The one who strikes first wins.

You sprang forward like a cat, katana raised. 

“Flame Breathing, First Form! Unknowing Fire!”

As you’d feared, the monster raised its arm to protect its neck much quicker than anticipated, letting out a grunt of pain as your blade went through its tough skin, severing the arm at the shoulder. It landed in the waves with a crash, dark blood spilling out into the spray. Even though you’d cut it, you could feel how hard its skin was. You frowned, knowing you only had one breathing technique fully available to you. 

“Will you… feed me???!” The demon grunted in your direction and you could see its horrible face clearly. “I need marechi.”

“You’re not even a Twelve Kizuki,” you said, assuming a new stance. “So, you’ll give me your head!”

“Flame Breathing, First Form! Unknowing Fire!”

You took aim for its neck again, its arm still regenerating in its socket. But something hard impacted you from the side and you shouted, getting shoved down face first into the shallow water. Immediately, you had a mouthful of sand and a throat full of seawater, but you couldn’t breathe or cough it out, held down by something hard and heavy. 

Through the water, you heard two quiet cracking noises, muffled gunshots, and you knew Arai hadn’t stayed in her home as you’d ordered her to. Your fist tightened around the handle of your katana and you turned it in your hand to stab backwards, blindly. 

The pressure loosened just slightly from your back and you managed to fight yourself free, coughing out sand and water. A third gunshot rang out and you heard it ricochet futilely off the demon’s skin. You shouted through a hacking cough as you tried to rid your lungs of seawater.

“Get back, Arai-san! It’s not going down like that!” 

You couldn’t see a thing and you rubbed salt from your eyes desperately. But you could hear a fourth gunshot and then a scream of terror. Panicking, you threw yourself in what you hoped was the right direction and raised your katana over your head. 

Tripping over yourself in the wet sand, you clambered over a rock, leaping from it as hard as you could. As you closed in, the image appeared finally before your eyes– the hulking mass of hard muscle and deformed limbs, caging in its prey, a helpless Arai, the empty rifle lying beside her in the sand. 

“Marechi!!!!”

“Flame Breathing, Third Form! Blazing Universe!”

Your fire-red blade hissed through the air, down into the demon’s neck. You grunted from the impact, its skin so hard that it slowed your blade and sent some of the force reverberating back into your arms. 

But your training finally pulled through for you and in the next moment, the head rolled off the body into the surf. You landed next to it, your heart still racing, as the enormous form dissipated into ash. 

You heard Arai burst into tears. 

“Are you injured?” You helped her to her feet, which were not very steady. 

“No, I was just so scared!” Crying, she clung to you heavily, and you wrapped your arm around her shoulders. “You’ve saved my life! How can I repay you?!”

“Why did you come out?! You should have stayed inside like I told you to.” 

She sniffed. “I heard the commotion and just couldn’t leave you. I’m sorry.” 

You felt sheepish, your irritation dissipating. “That’s very nice, but if something had happened to you, I hope you know I would never forgive myself, Arai-san.” You guided her back to her hut, the strong smell of wisteria wafting out from the open door. Her tears soaked into your shoulder and you settled her onto the tatami mats, but she continued to cling to you, weeping with fear. 

I guess this is what it is to save a life. 

“It’s alright now, Arai-san,” you comforted her. As if on cue, Lawrence appeared around the doorway. 

“Can you survey the village, Lawrence?” you asked. “I killed one large demon down the shore, but please make sure it was alone.” 

“Understood, _____.” He hopped away. 

You took your handkerchief from your pocket and wiped away some of Arai’s tears. 

“If you let go of me, I’ll make you something hot to drink, Arai-san.” 

Reluctantly, she let you go. You busied yourself with the kettle and produced a fresh cup of tea for her. 

It had been so long since you’d done anything besides train, even after all that had happened. Absently, you realized that there was life outside your training, outside your master, and outside the Demon Slayer Corps. The realization felt more freeing than you wanted it to be. 

Lawrence didn’t return for more than an hour but brought news that a Kakushi would be coming in the morning to speak with the village people and assist Arai. You leaned against the wall, your katana propped by your side as Arai huddled next to you with her cup. 

As promised, a single Kakushi arrived close to daybreak, jogging to the front door in short order. He carried a black leather bag that you guessed was full of first aid supplies. 

Just a few hours prior, you’d laid Arai’s futon out for her and urged her to sleep, so it was a pity to wake her, but she got up without hesitation to speak to the Kakushi. You were free to leave now, so you put the katana back on your belt and bowed to her, bidding her farewell. 

“Kujaku-san…?” she asked in a soft but clear voice. “Will I see you again?”

Um, hopefully not?!

You gave her what you hoped was a confident smile. “Keep yourself safe, Arai-san,” you responded without a real answer. “A life without the Demon Slayer Corps in it is the best thing for you.” 

You turned to go but she grabbed your sleeve.

“Thank you, Kujaku-san. I owe you my life. I won’t forget that.” She smiled at you and you observed that she seemed to be trying to look pretty. 

“Yup. Well, goodbye then.” Awkward now, you pulled your arm free and trotted away into the direction of the rising sun. 

When you were outside the village, you shouted for Lawrence.

“Lawrence! Any way you can find out where I can find Master?!”

“Who’s that?” He squawked down at you.

You frowned. “This is what you get for disappearing all this time, Mister Renaissance Man! Rengoku Kyojuro! The Hashira! Where was he taken?!”

“Alright, alright,” he seemed to sigh before gaining altitude. “I’ll find him.” He parted off into another direction. 

You jogged at a leisurely pace, enjoying the clean fall breeze. Despite that you were in no rush, you found yourself back at the training ground by noon. Neither Rengoku nor Lawrence were there, so you resigned yourself to waiting. 

A cold autumn shower passed over the house slowly, leading you to light the stove. It occurred to you that you hadn’t eaten in over a day, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel hungry. You also hadn’t slept, so you brought out your futon, the idea of forgetting your current burdens a more appealing option than food. 

Sleeping while doing Total Concentration Breathing surely counted as training, right? 

Guiltily, you remembered the egg exercise and wondered if that had been some kind of test, rather than a childish experiment. But you wouldn’t know until your master returned. And if he didn’t return…

You worked to relax your face and empty your mind. It would be of no use to have those thoughts now. Breathing evenly, your futon filled with heat as you kneaded the thoughts out of your head and allowed the strain of Total Concentration Breathing to work you into an oblivious, well-earned sleep. 

It did the trick. When you finally awoke, you opened your eyes and there was a pair of knees facing you diligently. Half-delirious from the lengths to which your breathing exercise had taken you, your hand shot out of the covers to grab one and give it a confident squeeze. 

Indeed, the knee was real. 

“Having a daytime snooze, Kujaku?” Your master’s face swam into view, smiling kindly. 

You pulled your hand back into the covers and rolled away, grumpy.

“Master, I thought you were dead.”

“I would normally tell you to stop thinking that, but I’m sorry, Kujaku. For giving you such a scare! But they were able to fix me right up.”

“What happened to you, Master?” Still facing away from him, you felt your eyes fill with hot tears you didn’t want to show. 

You could hear the sheepish smile in his voice. “Apparently, I’m supposed to stop eating so much in one sitting. Part of my stomach had to be stitched when I was injured and it opened up. But I’m fine now!”

You frowned, repeating yourself. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m fine, now!” Rengoku repeated himself as well. 

An awkward silence settled over the room. You could feel your master watching you closely, your back still to him. 

“Congratulations on your successful mission,” he finally said in an uncharastically soft voice. “I heard you defeated a strong demon preying on a village north of here while I was gone. I hope you know that the people in that village were saved thanks to you, Kujaku.”

“Yeah.” 

Another silence followed. You leaned your face into the covers, letting your tears soak into them. 

“I’ll leave you alone, then.” Rengoku stood and turned to leave. 

“Don’t go,” you said, your voice suddenly clear. You rolled back over to face his retreating back. 

He didn’t turn to face you, but rather just asked, “Why not?”

You swallowed a lump in your throat, feeling how the tables were turning. 

“I just want you to stay, Master.” Ashamed, you turned your eyes to the floor. 

But then there were knees there again as he sat back down beside your futon. You looked back up at him and he wore a kind smile. 

“Very well, then!”

You laid on your back and felt a smile of your own spread across your face. 

“Thanks, Master.”

Chapter Text

Overwhelmed with the simple joy of your master being alive, and coming down from the adrenaline of your first mission in a long time, you managed to put aside your unwelcome feelings for Rengoku for a whole week. You were just glad to have landed on your feet as you continued to hone your mastery of the Third Form, Blazing Universe. 

Eight days passed in this way before you got a reminder of how you felt, in an unexpected way. 

Lawrence interrupted your breakfast that morning, holding a folded letter in his beak. He spat it out onto the table, ruffling his feathers.

“For the record, I am NOT a mail carrier,” he announced, helping himself to your rice bowl. You frowned and opened the letter wordlessly. Who would be writing to you?

Dear Kujaku-san,

I hope this letter finds you well. I was not sure how to reach you, so I commissioned a certain courier who claimed he could guarantee delivery. 

Ever since we met, it has been hard for me to move on from things. I don’t mean to impose on you, but it would make me happy if I had the chance to see you again soon. I have been thinking about you often since that night. Oddly, my heart aches. I wish we could talk. 

If this letter finds its way to you, I hope you will pay a visit again at your convenience. I know you must be very busy, though. 

Even if you can’t visit, please know that I am cheering you on! I can assure you that my heart is with you. 

Fondly,
Fumiko

Rengoku watched as a disgusted expression developed on your face and his eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. 

“Ransom letter, Kujaku?” He chuckled, sneaking another scoop of miso soup into your bowl.

“Wh… who the hell is Fumiko?!” You squinted at the page, unable to remember having ever met anyone in your whole life named Fumiko. You looked up at Rengoku, your expression turning from one of disgust to horror. 

“Fumiko loves me.”

You handed him the letter, totally confused. He read it quickly, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Her heart is with you, it seems!” 

You dropped your face into your hands. 

Your master just laughed, sliding the letter across the table back toward you. “Don’t worry about it, Kujaku! Sometimes, Demon Slayers get letters of appreciation from those whom they have saved! It is an honor, so don’t be embarrassed.”

“Wait.” You snatched the letter back up off the table. There was only one person you’d ever saved in your whole life. “Is that what this is?! A letter of appreciation?” You concentrated as hard as you could. Was Arai’s given name Fumiko? You couldn’t remember. 

“Well, either it is that, or you have a special admirer!” Maybe you were imagining it, but Rengoku wasn’t smiling any longer. He immediately hid his face behind his tea cup. You stared. 

“If I have an admirer, I’ll disappoint them,” you responded, folding the letter back up and tucking it into your sleeve. Somehow, the mood was sobered. You sipped your soup loudly. 

Rengoku nodded. “When I was fourteen and just starting out as a Demon Slayer, I got a letter from a girl I rescued, asking me to marry her.”

You coughed, having inhaled a bit of your soup. “Fourteen is young to be a Demon Slayer, Master,” you observed. “And pretty young for marriage proposals, too.” 

“I was eager to prove myself,” he said quietly. “But yes, I was young. I just sent a short letter back saying that I didn’t feel the same way. It didn’t occur to me to be more considerate of her feelings. I had a very simple view of my duties at fourteen. Things like love and personal affairs seemed inappropriate and frivolous.” 

Guilty, you realized immediately that was exactly how you currently felt. “Are they not, Master?” You questioned him, glaring as he tried to add rice to your dish. He stopped. 

“Our duties are our duties,” he explained. “But everything outside of them are the things that make us human. Without them, how does a Flame Breathing user like me,” He paused, smiling now, “or you, find the fuel to feed our inner flames?” Rengoku regarded you carefully, seeming to be thinking hard. 

“If you really feel that way, let’s take a day off from training. Go live life for a day and remember– there is a lot more to it than training and fighting. So many things make life, and being human precious! We serve our calling and fulfill our duties because we understand the value of life. If we can’t do that, we can’t do our duties!” He traced a circle in the air, cheerful again. “It’s a cycle, see?” 

“Nope,” you replied, a smile on your own face now. “But thanks for the day off.” 

Rengoku laughed. “There will be a test later, so be ready for it!”

And so that is how you ended up sprawled in a beautiful meadow, watching the brilliantly colored autumn leaves float past, doing absolutely nothing for a whole day. 

The idea that you were supposed to be learning something from this really bothered you. What was it?! And what was Rengoku’s test going to be? You couldn’t help but agonize. 

What was the value of life?

It seemed like such a simple and yet complicated question. Of course lives had value and were worth saving. It went without saying. 

The day came and went with no particular revelation on your end. You trudged back, afraid of what your master was going to ask of you. 

“So, did you have a fun day, Kujaku?” There was daikon salmon for dinner. You stared at him with apprehension.

“I guess so,” you replied, trying not to look him in the eye. “It was nice.”

“What did you do?”

You pursed your lips. “Nothing, really. Enjoyed the weather.”

“Hmm! And did you realize anything?”

“No, I just had anxiety the whole day over how you were going to test me.”

Rengoku laughed. “I admit, that’s my mistake! Let’s start over, then, tomorrow. There will be no test, so don’t worry about it! Also, you can stay out as long as you want, even if it takes multiple days. If you want to go home, that’s fine, too!”

Home. That was an unfamiliar concept. Again, not that there was anything much to it. You had a mother, a father, and a brother living very peaceful lives there. But it had been a long time since you had seen them. 

“Maybe…” you mused, splitting a piece of daikon with your chopsticks. You seriously considered the option. It might be good to get a change of perspective. 

You went home for two days and came back, completely bewildered. 

“How was it, Kujaku?” Rengoku had a mild expression on his face as he conversed with you. It was unusual to watch him training his own body, but you couldn’t help but stare as he danced around the straw targets, carefully avoiding destroying them as he struck them in extremely close sequence. 

“It was very weird. My mother told me off because I have a sunburn. Who even cares?” You plopped down onto the rock impatiently. 

“She cares about the health of your skin! How kind of her.” 

“My brother said a bunch of rude things and called me a ronin. Then, he tried to school me about some nonsense about the League of Nations. That seat at Waseda has gone to his head if you ask me.” You sighed. It was like they lived in a completely different world. 

“You brother is an educated man! How admirable!” Rengoku flashed a grin your way and your cheeks heated up. His motions were so fluid and beautiful. 

“I just felt like we were living on two different planets. It was hard to believe we used to all live together.”

Rengoku stopped moving, his sparring sword dropping to his side. “That’s a shame, Kujaku,” he said in a serious tone. He gave you a pointed look. “I think you are beginning to see my meaning.” 

You frowned. “Don’t be so cryptic, Master.” 

He laughed. “You’re right that it wouldn’t do for you to not fully understand your lesson.” He walked over and sat beside you on the rock. 

“What you saw, and the lifestyles you felt so estranged from, those are the things that we strive to protect, Kujaku.” Rengoku surveyed you with an amiable expression on his face. “If you feel as though you are on a different planet as them, I’ve done you a great disservice during your training! I’ve allowed you to forget the important things in life that are worth protecting.”

“But that’s…” You stared down at your hands, not comprehending. “Wrong, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“Take my brother, for instance. I could never be so preoccupied with his silliness.”

Rengoku laughed. “Well, I am sure he feels the exact same way about you!”

You scowled. “I’m sure he does, but that doesn’t make him right. And what about my mother? The only thing she worried about was the fact that my cheeks looked too red for her liking. Meanwhile, it’s the least of my worries!”

Rengoku nodded. “And so?”

“And so…” You didn’t know. 

He smiled widely at you. “We protect people to preserve their lives! But for what? The value of life is the sum of so many things. The contributions those people bring to society. The love and care they have for their families. Their livelihoods and potentials, all of it! We put ourselves on the line to protect.” Rengoku hummed gently, spinning his abstract thoughts into words. 

“But if we don’t put in the effort to appreciate and internalize that value, then what weight can we put behind our blades?” 

You made a face. “I kind of get it, Master. But I don’t get how it relates back to when you were fourteen and rejecting marriage proposals.”

He laughed again. “I’m surprised you remember that, Kujaku. Was it on your mind?” He teased you gently and you looked away, frowning. 

“There’s no great revelation there! I would still reject her, even now.” He looked way too cheerful saying this. “But at the time, I rejected her because I thought it was unnecessary. I was wrong! All of those experiences are necessary to really appreciate what life has to offer! You shouldn’t push people away, just because you want to fight! You should try to understand the beauty of life, so you can fight to defend it!”

You were starting to get confused but you nodded, kind of following. 

“Hmm, alright then,” you said thoughtfully, your hand closing tightly around the fabric of your trousers. “So if I have a feeling or a hunch, is it best to chase after it instead of making it go away?”

“If it intrigues you, then go for it!”

“I’m going to write back to Fumiko-san and reject her.”

Rengoku looked at you curiously. “If that is how you feel on the matter, then you are free to do whatever you like! Though…” He paused, stony-faced. “When she says you ‘have her heart,’ it may mean she just wishes to be your friend. Maybe not that she is in love with you!”

You proceeded to lose your mind. “How would you know that?! Master!! And besides, I wasn’t assuming she is in love with me! That’s absurd! I just think she likes me a little too much! And I don’t want that!!”

“Hmm! Very well, then. Good.” His mouth was still set in a line. He hadn’t answered your question. Apparently, he had some history. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. 

“... Master?” You wondered if it wouldn’t be bad to at least tiptoe around the subject.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Hmmm!” His face brightened and he looked thoughtful. “Yes, I suppose so!” 

You watched him carefully, but he just looked amused, so you moved your gaze back down to your fidgeting hands. You guessed he was thinking of something that happened a long time ago. 

“I… think I might be in love.” The admission came out half complete because it lacked the words “with you.” You felt completely useless. 

“That’s great, Kujaku! It’s a blessing to be in love!” He did not pry at all. You realized he was being polite but you wished that he would be at least a little curious. 

There was a long and awkward silence. 

“I think it might not be a blessing,” you finally said in a quiet voice. “But it’s like you say, Master! I should try to have more experiences. Even sad ones.” You gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace of pain as you slid off the rock. 

“Do you want to spar, Master? I feel really pissed off right now.”

Rengoku looked surprised. “Why are you angry, Kujaku? Something I said?!” He tossed you a sparring sword. 

“Yes, it’s your fault, Master!” You leapt at him, your sword flashing out in his direction like a spark. He dodged you easily, a satisfied grin on his face. 

“Well then, perhaps you’ll feel better if you can win against me, Kujaku!”

You laughed, aiming your fist straight for his smiling face. “I’m sure I would!” 

Chapter Text

“Flame Hashira, Rengoku Kyojuro! Tsuguko, Kujaku _____!” An unfamiliar crow flapped in circles overhead and you shielded your eyes from the sun, watching it.

“Message! Message! A town to the southwest! Several people have been eaten! Eaten by a demon!”

You ran to the house to change into your uniform. Rengoku was already there, fastening his haori over his shoulders. 

“A mission together?” you asked, seizing your katana from its stand. 

“Certain to be a challenge!” Rengoku grinned, his voice full of enthusiasm. He slid his own katana into its place on his hip. “But I have full faith that we will prevail! Let’s make haste!”

“Yes, Master.” 

You ran at full pelt, pushing yourself to the limit to keep up with Rengoku’s searing pace. To be certain, this would be the first time you would ever see your master in actual combat and the promise of it both excited you and filled you with trepidation. 

You arrived at the small town quickly but by the time you got there, you were already fully winded. 

He wasted no time. Spotting a ramen stand, he strode right over to do some business. Sighing, you slumped after him, in no mood for noodles. 

But to your shock and surprise, neither was he. 

“Good day!” He poked his head into the stand and the owner visibly jumped, startled by Rengoku’s sudden appearance and loud voice. “Have you seen any demons around lately?”

You choked. “Master, what are you doing?!” 

Your shock and surprise doubled when it turned out that yes, indeed, the ramen stand owner did know about a demon, and the demon had managed to abduct an entire family of six people just the evening previous. Eyewitnesses swore they saw both the demon and the family disappear into thin air, the family seeming to be in a sort of trance. 

You stared in disbelief as the owner pointed out exactly where to go and described who the eyewitnesses were. Then, for all the efforts that he hadn’t made yet, the owner offered Rengoku a bowl of ramen on the house. 

What kind of mind control did your master have that led to this?! 

Eyeing him suspiciously, you made your way to the neighborhood street where the family had disappeared. Conveniently, two of the aforementioned eyewitnesses just happened to be outside, loitering around. 

“Good day!” Rengoku greeted again. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen any demons around lately?”

Those must be the magic words. 

Indeed, there was a demon afoot. It was confirmed. The two eyewitnesses led you to the exact spot where they’d seen the demon and the family it abducted vanish. 

“Hm! Indeed, faint traces of a demon remain.” Rengoku’s eye seemed to see something yours did not. He reached out to touch the air, as if there was something hanging there. 

You stared at the air, seeing nothing, as Rengoku continued to talk to the eyewitnesses. They described that family that had vanished. It was an elderly couple, their son, their daughter-in-law, and their two grandchildren. Three generations disappeared into thin air. Rengoku looked as if deep in thought. 

“Are there any other families like them in the neighborhood?” he asked.

Indeed, there was one other family of five, two streets over. The Sato family had an elderly grandmother, her son, daughter-in-law, and also two young grandsons living in the same household. 

“Then, we wait.” Rengoku bowed, thanking the pair for their help. “Thank you. We will handle it from here.” 

“Who are you?” For the first time, you noticed they looked uncomfortable. Your master turned to you, smiling. 

“We’re just here to help,” you explained lamely, turning away so they wouldn’t fix their eyes on your katana. “Thanks for your information.” 

You scouted the neighborhood while Rengoku briefed the situation to a crow. On one side of the street there was a fire tower that would serve as a good lookout. You climbed up. It was easy to see the Sato house, as well as most of the neighborhood. 

As you waited for the sun to set in the tower, your master offered you a rice ball that you accepted gratefully. 

“Have you ever fought a demon that used a Blood Demon Art, Kujaku?” He bit into his own rice ball, seating himself beside you, eyes fixed down onto the roof of the Sato house. 

“No…” You’d barely fought any demons at all, much less any with special powers. “You really think it’s going to be the Sato family tonight, don’t you? Even though we just talked to three people?”

He gave you a calm smile. “It’s just a hunch.” He polished off his rice ball quickly and placed a finger under his chin, still smiling serenely. “We’ll make short work of this, Kujaku. But I need you to do one thing.”

“What’s that?” 

“It would be best if we cut off our senses before we fight this demon.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Do you mean… like…”

“Your eyes and ears especially. But we may want to avoid smelling, too. I’m not sure yet!” He offered you a strip of thick black cloth torn from a uniform to bind over your eyes. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. How do we fight an enemy we can’t see, hear, or even smell? And how do you know that’s what we are up against? A hunch?”

Rengoku’s smile widened. “No, there are plenty of clues, Kujaku! The first one is in how Demon Slayers are assigned to missions. A major factor is geographical distance. We were the closest to this particular case. But then, if this was just an ordinary demon, why not just send you, like last time? You proved to be excellent and reliable! No, this demon can’t be handled by you alone.” He tapped his chin, seeming to enjoy putting together the puzzle. 

“So, they’ve sent not only you, a capable Tsuguko, but also me, a Hashira! Meaning that the threat this demon poses could be best mitigated by someone with the skills of a Hashira. Of course, that does not limit what kinds of powers this demon has that much, it could still be anything, so we must turn to our other clues. Any thoughts, Kujaku?”

Your brow crinkled. “The family that vanished last night was led away in a trance. The demon did not seem to take them by force.”

“Very good, Kujaku! Yes, that’s the biggest clue by far. They were hypnotized. For effective hypnosis, especially the type I’ve seen demons use, your senses must be open and receptive to the hypnotic effect the demon’s Blood Demon Art gives off. It could be your sight, your hearing, or perhaps a poison you inhale. We must tread very carefully!” 

You sighed. “Still, that doesn’t quite settle how we fight without any of our senses. And we are at a disadvantage if we cannot even breathe! How can we unleash our techniques without breathing?” 

“That’s why we are up here, Kujaku! We need more information so we can determine which of our senses will be safe to use.”

The expression on your face could only be described as incredulous. “So, we have to let the Sato family get hypnotized?”

Rengoku grinned. “Unfortunately, yes. But if the situation starts to look dire, I can fight without any of my senses, so we are guaranteed to win!” 

“You can what?”

“I can fight without my eyes, ears, and without any breathing techniques!”

You shot him a dubious look. “I’d really like to see you try, Master.” 

He laughed loudly. “Perhaps you will, tonight! If the Sato family is led by more than, say, six shaku beyond the front gate of their house without us getting any more information, I’ll dispatch the demon immediately. But I’d like to see what you’re made of in battle, Kujaku!” 

“Likewise, Master.” You offered him a soft smile and could swear his cheeks looked a little pink. 

The sun set and two things happened. 

The first was that Rengoku was frustratingly right and the demon immediately targeted the Sato house. 

The second was that it was almost too easy to guess which of your senses to block as the demon came traipsing down the alleyway along the side of the house.

“I mean, do you think it’s a trap?!” you hissed, stuffing cotton into your ears. “The demon is literally a giant fucking ear?!”

Rengoku trembled with laughter beside you as he blocked his own ears. “Something you will find is that demons are usually very earnest when it comes to their appearances!” 

As you descended the fire tower, you leapt off a railing to take the first strike. But as you sailed through the air, the wind whistling into your nose and mouth, you realized that you had no idea where the demon’s head was. After all–

It was just a giant ear. 

“Flame Breathing, Third Form! Blazing Universe!”

Your blade sizzled through the air, aimed at nothing in particular. It sliced through the outer shell of the ear-shaped creature. A miss. You searched desperately for the head as monstrous teeth sprouted along every edge of the weird fleshy mass. It flung itself toward you on a million tiny legs and you sprang backward, horrified. 

“Flame Breathing, First Form! Unknowing Fire!”

Your second cut went shallow, serving to force the disgusting beast away from you as you fought to gain distance, buying time to search for its head in the darkness. 

But you didn’t have to do anything further. The hairs prickled on the back of your neck and you leapt to the side just in time as Rengoku burst forward, his brow furrowed, eye glowering in the dark, and as he flipped his blade to face skyward, drawing it back, you knew it was over.

“Flame Breathing, Second Form! Rising Scorching Sun!”

A nub of flesh, the size of an orange, was severed from near the ground as Rengoku’s sword traveled up in a beautiful arc, sparks and flame erupting from the blade as he struck. You watched in awe, tears prickling in your eyes from sheer admiration. The ear demon immediately burst into ash and embers and you trembled as you sheathed your katana. You pulled the cotton from your ears.

“Well done, Master,” you said, breathless. You wished you could watch it again. You’d never seen such a display of sheer power in your life and it truly occurred to you for the first time, the strength of a Hashira. 

Rengoku sheathed his own katana, the flames dissipating off it as the demon’s ashes finished rising into the air. He hummed with satisfaction.

“Yes, we made quick work of it! Very good!” 

The crow from earlier swooped back around to give the all-clear and your master turned to you, beaming, bright even in the darkness. 

“Kujaku, do you know what time of year it is?”

You frowned. “It’s late autumn.”

“Indeed! And late autumn is the season for roasted sweet potatoes!”

“Yes?” What a random thing to say, especially at this adrenaline-packed moment. But he crossed his arms over his chest and looked impatient.

“Let’s stay up all night and roast them in front of the house!” 

“In the dark?!” You followed him down the street, breaking into a run as he did. 

“Whether it’s day or night, the taste is the same!” He was running so fast you could barely follow him. 

“You… you glutton!” you wailed as you struggled to make your legs go fast enough. “You’re just impatient! Slow down!”

“Hahahaha! No!”

“Master, you’re terrible!!” 

Upon your return, you were a puddle of sweat and tears, and your legs were like jelly. You sobbed as Rengoku handed you a rake. 

“Time to gather the leaves!”

“Nooooo…!” You crumpled to the ground in despair.

“Oh, what a reaction! It makes me so glad as your master to inflame your passions so, Kujaku! Hahahaha!”

Sooner than later, you had a fire going on a large stack of leaves and fallen sticks from around the yard. Your master eagerly stuck about fifteen sweet potatoes into the middle of the pile. 

“They might not cook if you put so many, Master.” You laid on the ground, your ghost starting to escape your body a little bit. “By the way, what made you want to eat sweet potatoes so suddenly? Couldn’t we have had them in the morning?”

Rengoku burst out laughing. “It was the flames!”

“The flames?”

“Yes! The flames from my technique, mixed with the cool autumn air! Doesn’t it stoke your appetite for roasted sweet potatoes?”

You imagined the ear demon you were fighting earlier. “No, Master, that does not make me hungry in the least.” 

His cheer wasn’t depleted in the slightest. “Well, more for me, then! Hahaha!” He prodded the pile fire with a stick. 

“Master, you can’t. Your stomach.” You reminded him with a stern look. The expression he gave you in return looked so disappointed that you instantly regretted saying anything. 

Sweet potatoes took a long time to roast, so you gathered yourself up and sat on the ground to wait, your back against the side of the house. Stars winked at you in the night sky, partly obscured by the wisp of smoke rising. 

The air had grown cold and you could see your breath as you sighed, a pleasant feeling of nostalgia settling in your chest. Rengoku joined you, his warmth not unwelcome. Unconsciously, you leaned into his side, enjoying the quiet moment. 

It was you who broke the silence finally.

“Master, I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you said, a hand falling softly onto the sheathed katana at your side. 

”Hm! What is it?” Rengoku crossed his arms over his chest and met your eyes with a smile. 

You gave him a sincere look, your eyes crinkling with gratitude. 

“Thank you, Master.” 

You were surprised to find that he looked surprised, so you continued.

“I’m so glad to have met you,” you said, speaking directly into his face, your expression earnest. “Thanks to you Master, I could grow stronger. I learned more about my purpose in this life. All the times we’ve shared, both happy and sad, have become so precious to me.” 

You watched your breath rise into the cold for a moment before you reached out and placed your palm on Rengoku’s shoulder. 

“When I joined the Corps, I felt like my life didn’t have meaning. But that’s changed.” You paused, watching Rengoku’s look of confusion soften and turn into a warm smile. 

“Thank you, Master, for taking me in as your Tsuguko. It’s the biggest honor of my life. I’m so thankful to you. And I just wanted you to know.”

You sighed, feeling satisfied. It would be enough, like this. You drew your hand back from Rengoku’s shoulder and relaxed, content with watching the sweet potato-studded fire as it snapped embers into the air. The potatoes started to smell good. 

“Kujaku…” Rengoku unfolded his arms and took your hand back in both of his. “I’m so moved!” His face split into a smile of genuine happiness and your heart skipped a beat.

“I’m so happy to have you as my Tsuguko.” 

You froze as he stared at you, now seeming to be searching for something in your face. A deep ache blossomed in your chest and you wished, selfishly and with all your strength, that maybe he loved you back, and his gentle smile was from something other than care for his Tsuguko. The truth that you had come to love your master, whether you welcomed it or not, spread as a heat that reached from your chest into every last inch of your body. 

But when it came to saying anything about it, you were paralyzed. What if he dismissed you? You would regret it for your whole life. 

You were content with the way things were.

As you were thinking this, he let go of your hand but then his palm appeared at the side of your neck and settled there, his thumb resting near the junction of your ear and jaw. His expression turned unforgivably tender and you realized with a sharp intake of breath, that in spite of everything you felt and feared, it was happening. 

Without missing a beat, his eye closed and he brought his lips to yours, so warm and fleeting as he gave you a soft and gentle kiss. As soon as you noticed how wonderful it felt, he pulled away and it was over. Your heart was beating so rapidly that you felt dizzy. Slowly, you brought your hand to your chest, wondering if you’d just been dreaming. 

“Master?” you finally murmured, afraid to blink. 

He smiled at you, his expression kind. “Happy New Year, Kujaku!”

You immediately frowned. “It’s still November, Master!!”

He laughed. “Happy early New Year, Kujaku!” he corrected himself, and then you were in his arms, your whirling head planted between his throat and collarbone. Weakly, you raised your hands and hugged him back. 

“I think the sweet potatoes are probably about ready, Master.”

“Not yet, Kujaku.” You felt his smile. “Just a little while longer.”