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The moon was high, and Giyuu was hyperaware.
He felt a familiar tug at the back of his throat, and closed his eyes, etched with the kanji for Kizuki Three. He’d learnt his lesson of keeping them open when Zenitsu played his shamisen, which brought demons to his own dimension, the Ubuyashiki Castle. There was always a huge flash of blinding light, almost like lightning, when demons got transported, which could leave vision black for a good few minutes afterwards if eyes remained open.
He’d opened them slowly, to ensure that he was truly through, before looking around. It was the same fortress, traditional patterns and polished floors, hallways stretching out forever and stairs crawling all over the place. Giyuu took a breath, and felt a figure’s blood pumping behind him. “Homura.”
The Kizuki Seven’s bright eyes flared. “Hello, Giyuu! It has been a while! How have you been!”
Giyuu remained silent, slowly turning around. The other demon hadn't changed a bit, his hair still a golden-red colour, matching his irises, surrounded by charcoal black. The demon’s sword lay at his hip, the flame tsuba faintly glowing like dying embers.
“This is a very nice conversation!” Homura said after another beat.
“Ara ara, don't waste your breath on him, Homura-san!” Giyuu’s mood soured as a light voice sauntered over. “He’ll only remain silent, per usual! Talking to your inferiors will help with popularity, Giyuu-san!”
“I have no intentions of being popular, Kochou.” Giyuu deadpanned. She also hadn't changed a bit, her butterfly wings still cascading down her back with antennas on her forehead, a purple sheen to her skin and an extra set of limbs, or a set of insect-like legs.
“That’s very boring of you, isn't it?” The Kizuki Nine laughed. “Such a sad, eternal life to lead.”
“N- nee, Kochou-chan, you shouldn't bully him!” Another feminine voice, from above. Giyuu turned to look as Kizuki Six jumped down, her pink kimono swirling around her legs as she stood upright again. “It’s a bit mean, and all of us demons should stick together!”
“Mitsuri-chan, it’s alright!” Kochou bounced back. “Just some fun teasing, right Giyuu-san?”
Giyuu only looked between the two. Mitsuri also hadn't been touched by time, her hair up and showing a fair amount of skin on the back of her neck. A rip in the front of her kimono showed her heart beating, where there should've been skin and bones lay an easy access to view the organ.
“R-right!” Giyuu had no idea why Mitsuri, a superior to Kochou, would act as if she was inferior, but as long as their hierarchy wasn't disturbed…
“Well, if you’re all not looking absolutely flamboyant!” Giyuu felt a harsh slap on his back, from Kizuki Eight.
“Hands off, Tsuma.” Giyuu said monotone, cleaving the other demon’s arm off.
“Woah, woah!” Tsuma quickly backed away, jewelry jingling against each other. With how much the demon wore, Giyuu could only guess how much weight he tugged around, especially with the three instruments he also slung around. “No need for that kind of thing! Right Mitsuri!”
“Uh- right!” Mitsuri chuckled as the demon put a hand on her back.
“Get your grubby hands off.” Tsuma’s arm got twisted off yet again, as Giyuu recognized Kizuki Four slithering towards them, serpentine tongue flicking around as his multi-coloured eyes glanced around. His bottom half was the same milky-white snake tail as well.
“That is twice today you have gotten your arm ripped off, Tsuma!” Homura cheerfully announced.
“But seriously, you shouldn't go around touching your female coworkers like that!” Kochou warned with an innocent smile. “You could be seen as a pervert!”
“Just stay away from her.” Obanai huffed, coiling his tail around to keep it out of the way.
“Okay, okay, gods.” Tsuma huffed, raising his hands in surrender, before looking around. “Any idea why we were called here?”
“Something about the Demon Slayer Corps.” All six present turned around to see the owner of the voice.
Giyuu felt a small pang when he saw Kizuki Five- definitely not older than twelve, forever. Half his face inky black, the other a milky white. A fan held in his tiny hand, showing white and the kanji for truth. A light blue kimono that went down to his thighs, and six clouded eyes.
“Oh! I wonder what happened!” Mitsuri gasped.
“It better be something good.” Obanai snarled.
“It could be practically anything!” Homura exclaimed.
“I would hope it is information!” Kochou clapped.
“Better be flamboyant, then!” Tsuma grinned.
“Something about the Corps, eh?” Giyuu huffed as he heard the growly voice, along with more blood circling through demonic bodies.
“Ibuki.” Giyuu pronounced slowly, not even turning around. “You understand that pets are not allowed at Kizuki Meetings, correct?”
Kizuki Two scoffed. “Course I know. I was literally ordered to bring the brat along.”
Giyuu finally turned around. Kizuki Two, covered in marred black scars and an open shirt, eyes an inky black with his skin a nauseating green. Next to him, a figure curled up in a tense but polite stance, eyes the same as his brother but just one matching scar on his cheek, skin a strange purple tone.
“It is nice to know you are all alive,” a booming voice from below and to the left, on another hallway, “namu-amida-butsu.”
They all looked over to see the huge figure making its way swiftly towards them. The Kizuki One stood at a stop, and Giyuu could properly see that he hadn't noticeably changed either, his eyes still pitch black and hands still clasped around those praying beads, as if the two were connected.
“Hello, Himejima-san!” Ibuki's pet and younger brother, Genya, bowed formally which was replicated by the most powerful kizuki. Once that interaction happened, the other Kizuki got to greeting the demon, each with mutual respect to just how strong the demon was, along with his benevolence towards inferiors.
Giyuu looked between them all, each face, each demon mark, each kanji scrawled onto their eyes. Had he changed at all, since the last time they’d met up? They would sometimes bump into each other in Japan, accidentally meeting when they went around to devour humans.
The last he’d seen was Kochou some year or so ago, when they’d slaughtered a small, remote mountain village to consume together. Originally, Giyuu meant to do it by himself with the water supply, but Kochou had also gone in with her poison Blood Demon Art to make it quicker. They’d split evenly, and nobody missed that village.
Some time earlier, maybe half a decade earlier, he’d run into Ibuki and Genya arguing in the slums of some prefecture, but decided not to get into it and quickly left what Giyuu assumed was their feeding territory. Only a little while before that, he’d spotted Mitsuri and Obanai feasting together on a family of what was maybe six or seven, each with their own food preferences from the family.
Giyuu didn't eat children. It was a solid fact. He didn't know why, but it felt slightly sickening when he’d seen Mitsuri dig into a child’s leg with her fangs baring out. He’d left before Obanai could spot him.
But Giyuu was sure he hadn't noticeably changed at all. His fox mask still hung at his side, and the blue kimono he wore with wave patterns hadn't differed. The colour of his skin remained the same, and he could probably slip around as human if it wasn't for the fangs and demon mark on his cheek.
“The Oyakata-sama…” all ten of them quickly sunk onto their knees as they heard the two childish voices, “has arrived.”
“My sweet children,” Giyuu felt slightly at ease when he heard the Demon King’s voice, “it is so nice to know you have lived another half century with no personnel changes. It is time to discuss a critical attack against the Demon Slayer Corps.”