Work Text:
The first rays of the morning sun shine over the top of the distant trees. It’s quiet, save for a few birds chirping from somewhere in the surrounding forest. Time is still as the sun grows warmer, continuing to rise slowly into the pale sky. A soft breeze blows the fiery bangs off of Kyojuro’s face as he closes his one working eye. He’s alive.
But so is Upper Three.
Akaza.
He clenches at the sharp pain in his right side, practically gasping for breath. Kyojuro was alive, but he was not in any good condition. If Akaza had a little more precision in his punch, it would’ve impaled his abdomen. Instead, he swung a little to the left, managing instead to puncture a few of Kyojuro’s ribs and cause some internal bleeding. He also has severe damage to his left eye and his hearing is deafened by a monotonous ringing. It was not ideal, but it could all be treated.
In front of him, Kyojuro could make out the sound of muffled yelling. He opens his right eye and sees that it’s Tanjiro, no longer holding his sword but angrily flailing his arms in front of the trees where Akaza had disappeared. He’s going to reopen his wounds. Kyojuro leans forward to call out for him, but he’s cut off by a sharp pain in his chest and an abrupt coughing fit. He chokes up some blood, covering his already bloody hand.
Tanjiro turns to him, his eyebrows arched with frustration and tears streaming down his face. The ringing fades for a brief moment, and though he’s still dizzy, Kyojuro is properly aware of his surroundings again: Tanjiro heaving back defeated sobs, the kid with the boar head and the other with the yellow hair visibly crying as well, and the distant sounds of the passengers helping each other retreat from the derailed train. Tanjiro rubs the anger off his face and it is quickly replaced with concern. He runs to Kyojuro, kneeling in front of him.
“You really shouldn’t--” Kyojuro was interrupted with more coughing. Now that the adrenaline is fading, he’s weaker than he thought. “You shouldn’t exert yourself like that. You’re…still hurt.” He tried to sound strong but it wasn’t working. He managed to get the message across to Tanjiro at least. The blood from the boy’s wound was already seeping through his uniform again.
Tanjiro’s face twisted with worry. “The Kakushi will be here soon, it’s fine. And…you’re in even worse condition than I am…” His voice trailed off as he struggled to speak himself. They both were breathing heavily through their pain.
“All of the passengers on the train survived,” Tanjiro quietly said after a moment, most likely trying to lift Kyojuro’s, and his own, spirits.
“Yeah…” One of the Twelve Kizuki is dead at least, though it was a lower rank. But still…
Akaza.
Kyojuro felt tears fall down his own face as they knelt in silence below the rising sun.
At least Tanjiro and the others are safe now.
He tilted his head to the empty sky, letting his eye fall shut again as the world began to spin.
They’re all safe for now.
•••
Kyojuro woke up from a dreamless sleep alone and in a plain room, lit brightly by the midmorning sun through the wide windows. He was stiff and sore all over but he could open his left eye again, although his vision wasn’t completely clear. There was a girl yelling on the other side of the door. He quickly identified the distinctive voice as belonging to one of Shinobu’s assistants, Aoi, who was most likely yelling at someone for disobeying her orders. The stubborn response he hears next only confirms his suspicions. Ah, the Butterfly Mansion.
“Get out of the way, I’m going to see aniki!”
A third voice timidly chimes in, “Y-you know Inosuke, maybe you should listen to h-her…”
Aoi yells over them, “I told you, you’re going to wake him if you go in there! Go back to your roo--!”
Before Aoi can finish scolding the poor sap, the door to Kyojuro’s room burst open and the kid with the boar head rushed in. The yellow haired boy runs in after him, wailing, “Inosukeee!”
Aoi peers in at Kyojuro and retorts, “Great, you idiots woke him up.”
They stop chasing each other around the room, their attention suddenly snapping to him sitting on the bed. They both start chanting, “Aniki!” as they jump onto the foot of the bed, seemingly incapable of being gentle. They couldn’t keep still while they tried catching Kyojuro up on what he missed. They’d only woken up about an hour earlier though, so they didn’t have much information.
Tanjiro walks in with Aoi, who had quietly left amidst the chaos to get some tea and food for Kyojuro. He bows almost immediately entering the room, quickly saying, “I’m so sorry Mr. Rengoku, I shouldn't have let them leave our room so soon.” Aoi slaps him on the back of the head at that, grumbling something about how those morons couldn’t be stopped. She pulled up some chairs for herself and Tanjiro while Zenitsu sprawled out on the foot of the bed and Inosuke sat uncomfortably close beside Kyojuro, practically breathing down his neck.
Kyojuro learns during their little tea party that it’s been a few nights since the Mugen train incident, and not much has happened since. He’s still groggy from being unconscious for so long, but he liked seeing everyone’s smiling faces again. It reminded him that not everything was horrible--things were good even--despite letting go of Akaza. He couldn’t help but chuckle a few times, even though it hurt his broken ribs to do so. Soon enough, it was lunchtime and the three boys were ordered to leave. They weren’t bedridden like Kyojuro, but they still weren’t permitted to go out training yet. As Aoi got up to leave as well, she pulled a folded slip of paper from her pocket and handed it to Kyojuro. “This came yesterday. It’s from your brother.”
He took it and immediately opened it as she left the room. Since becoming a Hashira, he didn’t get to see Senjuro as often, but his occasional letters were always something he looked forward to.
Reading the letter, Kyojuro isn’t surprised to see that Senjuro had gotten word of his injuries and was writing to check in. He goes on with his usual updates regarding his mundane life and their quiet hometown. At least, to an outsider it might be mundane, but Kyojuro is always happy to hear that his little brother is holding up okay. It’s relieving to him that he gets to live as normal of a life as he can, safe from demons. However, it’s the last few lines that catch Kyojuro off guard.
You should come visit soon. I know this sounds unlikely, but I think Father is worried too.
Kyojuro isn’t sure how to react. Father’s…worried? If he wasn’t already drowning in homesickness thinking about his brother, that would definitely drive him straight home as soon as he was well enough to. He feels a pit form in his stomach as mind drifts to his mother and he wonders if she saw everything. How he tried to be strong that night, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He couldn’t stop Upper Three. Akaza. He felt more like what his father had always said, like a pathetic failure. No…he protected everyone that night. He protected the weak, like his mother told him to. He was strong.
“Were you crying just now?”
Kyojuro looks up from the letter and sees that he’s not alone anymore. He lets go of the crinkling paper which he didn’t realize he had such a tight grip on. He hadn't heard her approach, but the Insect Hashira stood staring at him from the door, her voice light but her expression vague. He wipes the tear that had escaped his eye and forces a smile at her. “Shinobu.”
She offers a small, polite smile in return. “I heard you were up. I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Apparently she chose to come today instead of his assigned medic. As she does some routine checks on his vitals, he tells her about the fights with Lower One and Upper Three, although leaving out the immense guilt that was weighing on him. He could tell that she already knew about that though. She always had a knack for reading people.
“You did well. The others did too. I hear Tanjiro and his sister were especially good…to think there is a demon on our side. They really are unique, huh.” She said that calmly but Kyojuro could see through the layers of neutrality that she hid under and knew she was still dubious of the duo; she was talking about them as if she just heard that pigs were starting to fly.
“They were exceptional. The boy is surely on his way to being a Hashira…” His words fade out as he falls back into his mind, considering that last statement. With a little more training, he really could catch up to Hashira level…the others too.
“Shinobu.” She looks up, her expression flat again. “Don’t you think it’s time for someone else to take up the Flame Hashira position?”
Despite her attempts to remain unfazed, her eyes widened. “Is- Is that really what you want?” To her, no one could be a better Flame Hashira than the man in front of her; he even had the fiery appearance for it.
“I-” The pit in his stomach tightened with his insides turning. His mind flooded with conflicting thoughts that he couldn’t verbalize. The Hashira need someone stronger. But he is strong, his mother always said so. But his father always said he wasn’t enough. Though, he does nothing but drown himself in booze everyday. But he’s still Father…what would his mother think? That last thought silenced the rest; she would never doubt his capabilities because she knew he was strong. She wouldn’t want him to give up being a Hashira. After all, he’s now responsible for taking down Akaza in the future. How could he ever do that if he wasn’t a Hashira? Shinobu rested her hand lightly on his forearm, grounding him.
“No, that’s not what I want.”
Her face flashed with relief before settling back to a small smile. “Good, because we’d certainly have a difficult time finding someone close enough to your abilities to replace you.”
After feeling content with his current condition, she prescribed him some medication for while he heals for the next several weeks. She leaves him alone once again, flashing a small wave and a matching smile as she starts down the hall.
•••
Nearly a month later, Kyojuro is sent out on his first mission since the night of the Mugen train. He’s not entirely healed, but it’s enough for him to go out again and besides, the Demon Slayer Corps was short on strong members. The demon he was tasked to kill isn’t one of the Kizuki but it’s proved to be decently strong, having killed several lower ranked Corps members so far.
However, Kyojuro was quick to accept the mission for other reasons. The area this demon resided in was close to his hometown, the home of his brother and father. If he dealt with the demon efficiently, then he could stop to visit them for at least a few hours.
That was how Kyojuro found himself walking alone along a silent mountain trail. He had only the light of the full moon to guide him. It’s a chilly night, a sign of the approaching winter. The girls at the Butterfly Mansion had worked laboriously to patch up and wash the blood out of his haori, which he was grateful for, however the thin fabric didn’t do much against the late autumn chill. On top of that, his ribs still ache when he exerts himself too much; it’s just another reason why he hopes to get this mission over with. Stopping along the edge of the path to lean against a tree, he lets out an exhausted sigh. Maybe he was pushing it. Ubuyashiki wasn’t actually making him go on this mission, he could go back. He looks up at the clear sky, taking in the countless white specks lighting up the darkness, flickering down on him. No. It’s all just excuses…a month old injury never stopped him before. Why is now any different? Supposedly this demon found a home in an old stone temple, abandoned long ago by whatever villagers had decided it was time for a change of scenery. It shouldn’t be too much farther. He started back up the path again, though much slower this time.
He was right; after not much further, he saw steep stone steps beneath a collapsing archway, overgrown with weeds and roots. A scraggly cat appears out of nowhere and bolts across the steps, back into the trees. Kyojuro thinks of Mitsuri and her love of cats. She visited the Mansion the day before and bid him luck on his returning mission. In and out. He knows the others are worried; he can’t let them down. He barely stepped on the first step when he heard a loud cackle echo down the path.
“Oho, have they sent another one? That’s four in a row, I wonder if this one will taste any good!”
Ugh, it’s a cocky one. This just needs to be in and out.
Kyojuro steps through the decrepit arch and looks up, seeing the silhouette of the demon. It’s dark but he can make out a masculine build, stocky but athletic, and short hair- Wait could it…no that doesn’t make any sense. Unsheathing his sword, he runs up the remaining steps and sees the demon rush aside to dodge any incoming attack. Sure enough, after seeing him in the moonlight Kyojuro can see that he resembles almost nothing of Akaza, save for the build and hair. Still, he had hesitated, costing him a quick and easy blow. The demon’s eyes glint in the moonlight, giving him a malicious look. Damn it, he’s a Hashira. This is just some lousy demon.
“Wow, I was kinda hopin’ you’d be faster than that.”
“Well that’s funny, I was hoping you’d be a little smarter. What kind of demon sets up in a place so isolated from humans?”
The demon hadn’t let his guard down, but he was moving through the surrounding trees lazily. Kyojuro stands in the middle of a small courtyard surrounded by overgrown weeds and collapsing statues. The silence from the temple and the demon’s relaxed composure led Kyojuro to assume that he had held no captives tonight. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Still, he couldn’t identify the demon’s blood art yet, so he couldn’t let his guard down either.
Kyojuro hasn’t moved, but he hears the demon’s response from right behind him. Wait, wasn’t he just behind that statue right there?
“I have my reasons. Say, you’re a Hashira aren’t ya? Why haven’t you sliced my head off yet? Don’t tell me I’m that good.” He lets out another excited cackle. “Hey, I bet if I took down a Hashira then he would give me a dose of his blood! Maybe I could even join the Kizuki! How does that sound? Maybe I could-”
Kyojuro swings around behind him, raising his blade to neck-height. As he spun, he realized the voice no longer sounded like it was behind him but rather all around him. But no, the demon was there, not even in a defensive position, his amber eyes dull but urging Kyojuro to attack. Is he really that cocky? As his sword connected with the demon’s neck, he finally realized something was off. Normally, when the blade hits flesh, there’s a push back as it fights to cut through. However, the instant that Kyojuro’s sword hit the demon, he vanished into a cloud of smoke and the sword continued swinging as if it never collided with anything. As if the demon was just a hallucination. A hallucination…ah. So that’s his game. “Hoho, there’s that Hashira speed! Ya coulda got me there, huh.”
Kyojuro spins around again, now fully aware that the voice was coming from no particular direction. He’s already winded just from the one attack. This mission was definitely too much. He should still be training at the Mansion. He sees the demon walking between two trees to his left. At the same time, in his right peripheral there’s the demon again. He furrows his brows, trying to figure out the best strategy. “How many of you are there?”
The demon laughs, apparently finding amusement in Kyojuro’s confusion. “Heh, since ya asked, there’s only one of me. I’m the one and only Aoki! Although I’m sure you were referring to them, of which there are many. Can’t tell ya just how many though, wouldn’t wanna ruin the fun now would I?” As Aoki speaks, he steps out in front of Kyojuro in the courtyard, his arms out, making a grand spectacle of himself. Kyojuro already knows it’s not the real one, only another effigy, and that is confirmed when it starts radiating a gentle light, allowing Kyojuro to see for the first time exactly what he looks like.
Aoki’s skin is pale, almost white with a faint blue tint, and his short hair is dark blue, gently sweeping over his hairline. His eyes are a deep amber color, almost matching the warm moon, sharply contrasting the blue tones. His demon marks appeared like small stars, speckled all over his face and body; he resembled the night sky. He wore a loose checkered haori that covered his arms but no shirt underneath, and he had on tattered shorts appearing like a skirt that hung to just below his knees.
Kyojuro doesn’t allow Aoki too much time in the spotlight before charging forward, piercing his chest with his sharp red blade. As he expected, the figure before him exploded into a cloud similar to the first. Kyojuro took a deep breath in, not allowing himself to succumb to the aching in his side. He runs to the edges of the stone floor and pierces every effigy he can reach. It seemed as though behind every tree and statue there was another copy of Aoki, and more kept appearing the more he slashed. This was Aoki’s blood demon art: he could make massless duplicates of himself that appeared as lifelike as the real thing. He couldn’t tell the difference between the real and a fake until he hit it. On top of that, many of the effigies started fighting back with a modified form of martial arts unfamiliar to Kyojuro.
He knew that this was going to be a test of stamina. Either he runs out of energy and collapses, or Aoki runs out of the strength to keep up his blood demon art. If it was daytime, he could probably tell by the shadows, or rather lack of, which figures were fake. But it was nighttime, away from any light source strong enough for anyone to cast a clear enough shadow for Kyojuro, still with one bad eye, to see in the battle. He was getting swarmed by Aokis and running out of strength quickly. Stamina was the one thing he didn’t have tonight. He spots an opening to run out of the swarm and he takes it, knowing he couldn’t possibly fight off so many at once.
Using his little remaining strength, he sprints as best he can to a spot behind two thick trees and keels over. He’s heaving loudly and he knows he can’t last much longer. He’s out of stamina and spirit. He knows he should probably leave, retreat before it’s too late. Is he even able to do that? It was stupid to even come here in the first place. After all that’s happened, how had he convinced himself that he wasn’t weak after all? Looking at himself now, he knows there is nothing strong about him.
He looks up at the sky again. A void of darkness interrupted only by the small specks that match Aoki’s skin. First Akaza, now Aoki. That’s two demons in a row that he’s lost to. Raising his gaze further above him, Koyjuro sees the full moon. It glows yellow, like the flames in a fire. A fire, set ablaze in the sky.
“Set your heart ablaze.”
Wasn’t that what he always told his subordinates? Yet, had he ever set his own heart ablaze? He must’ve at some point, otherwise he wouldn’t be where he is now. But right now he can’t even remember what it felt like. The flame went out at some point along the way and he didn’t even notice. That’s why he couldn’t beat Akaza. Set your heart ablaze. Rise again like a phoenix within the flames. It’s not over until the sun rises.
It’s not over yet. It’s not even close.
He drops his head back down, looking at his arm that he had wrapped around his abdomen to cover the pain. “Set your heart ablaze.” He hears the familiar words echo quietly in front of him. The voice was gentle but reassuring, and very familiar. That’s right…it was his father that first said that. Before his mother died. Before he became a demon slayer. He feels the ghost of a muscular arm wrap around his shoulder, feeling the nonexistent warmth behind it. He hears the memory of his father’s voice say, “It’s not over until the sun rises. You have to learn to last that long.” His father never thought he was weak before, when he couldn’t even hold a sword right. So why would he think he’s weak now? He knows he doesn’t mean everything he says now; he lets the alcohol talk for him. He’s stronger now than ever. On his other shoulder he feels another ghost, this of a much softer hand. He promised her he would protect the weak. Mother…
He finds within himself a new strength. They never doubted me, not for a second. He needs to defeat this demon, for the sake of the innocent villagers and swordsmen he killed, and for the sake of those he will if he’s not stopped. He rises up, stumbling between the trees and crushing several dried leaves and twigs beneath him. He’s no longer heaving but he’s still making a racket.
Aoki’s voice, still coming from all directions, taunts, “Y’know I can hear ya.”
There goes any element of surprise.
Kyojuro makes his way back to the courtyard, slicing a few of the fake Aoki’s along the way. He would have been at a major disadvantage had he stayed in the forest. With a clear battlefield around him once again, he called out, “Are you going to come and fight me now, or continue hiding like a coward?”
At that, several figures started to appear from behind the trees. They seemed slower than before; it was possible that Aoki was reaching his limit. That’s when Kyojuro noticed it. It was so subtle he nearly missed it. One of the figures had a glint in his eye, reflecting the moon above. The same glint that the first Aoki he encountered on the stairs had. None of the others had it; they were nothing but an illusion. They couldn’t reflect any light like that. That one had to be the real Aoki.
Clutching his sword tight, Kyojuro charged towards the figure with all his might. With a single, confident slice, he felt the familiar feeling of steel against skin and knew he had the right one. The blade went through Aoki’s neck in a clean slice. His hands instinctively went to block the strike but he was too late; his head rolled on the ground and his body collapsed, slowly disintegrating into the breeze while the clones vanished in an instant. In his final breath, he sputtered, “Hah…ya did it. The Hashira got me…”
Kyojuro fell back to his knees, adrenaline running out. He’s back as a demon slayer…though maybe he should hold off on missions for a while.
•••
It’s the next morning and Kyojuro stumbles through a familiar street towards his family’s home. He is incredibly weak from the previous night’s strains, but the trek wasn’t too far, all things considered. He spent a long time kneeling at the temple the night before, gathering his breath and what little strength he could while he prayed for all of the lives that the demon had taken. Someone from the town must have seen him slowly approaching and ran to warn his brother of his return, because as Kyojuro reached the house, Senjuro was already standing outside waving to him.
“Senjuro!” He coughed out, barely containing the wide grin on his face despite how sore he felt. Senjuro ran up to support him while they made their way back to the house. By now, their father was leaning against the door frame, unkempt and a jug of sake hanging from his hand. Looks like nothing’s changed after all.
“Father…”
“You battled an upper rank an’ lived?” Shinjuro’s speech was slurred but he didn’t sound hostile. Kyojuro nodded in response, not afraid of maintaining eye contact with his father like his brother was.
Shinjuro responded indifferently, “Hmph. Let’s talk later.” With a swig of sake, he turned and went back inside.
Senjuro turned up to look at Kyojuro. He couldn’t hold back his smile. They both knew that even though he had sounded indifferent, it was a sign of approval that neither of them had seen since their mother passed. Normally he lashed out much more aggressively. Senjuro mentioned in his letter that Father was finally softening up. It’s true. Things are different.
Kyojuro was already planning what he was going to say when they got to talk again. He wasn’t sure how many more missions he was going to survive, especially as long as he was going to continue hunting down Akaza. But he did know that what he wanted more than anything else right now was for his brother and father to be happy, taking care of themselves.
He was going to make sure they lived safe lives, no matter what.