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Missions lately had been incredibly gruelling and had lasted far too long for Kyojuro's liking. Kibutsuji had clearly slowed the movement of the demons and, instead, had chosen to keep them closer to him, save for the few incidents as of late where Corps members would stumble across a rather powerful demon. Kanroji and Tokito had just battled two of the Upper Moons not too long ago, along with the Kamado boy and his friends, who all managed to scrape by with just a few minor injuries. However, a direct breach in the swordsmith village's security was made in the process; demons hadn't been able to access the area in a very long time. Longer than Kyojuro had been a Hashira for, he could say.
After that recent battle, security had been increased around the village to protect those living inside it while they worked to rebuild everything that had been destroyed by the demons. They were quick workers, even more so now that a few of the Slayers had volunteered to help, Kamado being the first one. Aside from security around the village, things were also tightened around the headquarters. More Corps members had also been withdrawn from the field and requested to stay behind and patrol the area. None objected, though there were a few younger ones who were admittedly disgruntled about having to miss out on the action.
As for the rest of the Hashira, their patrol regions had only grown, much like the threat of Kibutsuji's presence at times like these. The Master had gathered them all for a meeting, one that Kyojuro remembered quite clearly.
- -
"My children. I see you have all made it. I am glad that every one of you is in good health."
His voice, no matter how soft, held a commanding presence. Like statues, each of the Hashira held their bows with conviction, eyes closed in their silent respect.
"Master. I am pleased to see you are in good health as well."
Shinazugawa spoke, his voice unusually calm for someone as fierce as him.
The Master smiled in acknowledgment of his words, silently permitting them to release their bows. Slowly, the kneels transitioned to polite sitting positions, all of them resting on their knees and awaiting the Master's next words.
Kyojuro sat beside Himejima. He had arrived much quicker than originally anticipated. His patrol region was one of the further ones, making it difficult for him to arrive in a timely fashion on such short notice. Nevertheless, the train happened to be travelling in the direction he needed, so a lengthy train ride and far too many bento boxes for an average person later, he assumed his spot beside the other Hashira, who all had the same question: what could have been important enough to constitute such a meeting?
"As each of you knows, the threat that Kibutsuji poses has only grown over time. His demons have caused far more loss than not, and you have witnessed that destruction yourselves. Recently, it seems he has begun to cut back on sending his demons out to hunt."
That same pattern had been spotted by Kyojuro as well, and he imagined that his colleagues hadn't neglected to notice either. Demons typically roamed the streets, and, on average, most Slayers weren't likely to meet an Upper Moon; rather, they met a smaller, weaker demon that practically acted as fodder, simply taking up valuable time but never posing a true threat.
"I have concluded that he is likely storing his demons, preparing for a larger battle of some sort. Each of us must remain on our guard. I have decided to widen your patrol areas. It would be beneficial to have the Hashira watching out for any of the stronger demons since the Upper Moons seem to be the ones he has defaulted to."
Kyojuro nodded just as the others did. Bearing a little more weight was perfectly fine if it meant saving lives. The Upper Moons were far more dangerous than any other demon, apart from Kibutsuji himself—it only made sense to have the Hashira deal with them, should the need arise.
The rest of the meeting ran smoothly, with minimal questions or reassurances exchanged, though an unspoken dread weighed upon each of their shoulders, a quiet reminder of just how dangerous Kibutsuji was—and what might become of his power in the near future.
- -
Kyojuro quickened his pace, rounding the corner to another alleyway, one of the many that threaded around the town's houses. The scent of a demon was unmistakeable, sickeningly sweet, and very obviously nearby. Sprinting past a few of the buildings, he drew his sword, spotting a demon that had assumed the look of a young girl with bright red eyes, her hair trailing down her back and shoulders in stringy, uncombed patterns. She glanced at him quietly, blood trickling down her chin as she muttered.
"A... human?"
She wasn't strong; her scent was weak, and it was clear she would be easily defeated. The demon was likely to be a newborn, judging by the multiple bodies that lay on the ground, the puddle of blood that had resulted from their injuries growing slowly. She held the severed arm of one of them, crimson staining her blouse as it dripped down from the appendage.
Kyojuro lunged forward, sword angled back in preparation to swing. The demon screeched, scrambling to get away before he managed to reach her. She began running down the alleyway, leaving bloody footprints in her wake before dropping to the ground. A thin red line had appeared on her neck, the product of Kyojuro's clean slash that had occurred moments ago without her even noticing.
"No! No, no, no! Please, you can't do this to me!"
She continued to scream, mumbling incoherently as she writhed on the ground before her voice died out, her body disintegrating, the smouldering remains carried away by the night's breeze.
Pity was not an emotion that Kyojuro deemed worthy of extending towards demons. A species that had taken so much from humans, killed so many innocent people... they were not deserving of such mercy. Still, he did not make another move to further silence the demon nor speak to her as she died; despite his hatred for their kind, Kyojuro was aware that demons had their own troubles, had been forced to deal with things in their human lives that had corrupted their souls, twisting what should have been default morals until they were no longer recognizable.
The scent of a demon did not entirely vanish, however. Whisps of sweetness still clouded his senses, poisoning his lungs with its repulsive nature. Once again, Kyojuro took off running, pausing at the end of the street as the smell became more potent. He raised his sword, setting his arms back as he prepared to fight...
"Shit—"
... and felt his fist make contact with something behind him. He swung around, sword by his side in preparation.However, what stood behind him was not a demon, at least not that Kyojuro could tell. Instead, a man, around the same age as himself, clutched his nose that was now dripping blood. He had dark, black hair that was cut short, as well as some of the lightest blue eyes that Kyojuro had ever seen. His eyelashes were tinted with a lighter colour, and he was adorned in a grey robe and matching trousers. He seemed to be human, even if he was a little paler than average. He certainly didn't give off the scent of a demon, though that wasn't saying much considering that it was hard to pick up much of a scent off of him at all.
"Ah! My apologies, I was in such a rush! Allow me!"
Rummaging through the satchel at his side, Kyojuro pulled out a handkerchief and passed it to the other man, who silently accepted it.
Within an instant, the air around them chilled, the breeze picking up and ruffling through their hair. Carried within it was that same repulsive scent. The second demon, wherever it had been, had returned.
Drawing his sword, he turned away from the black-haired man and darted forward at precisely the same time as the demon. This one was far stronger than the girl, though not quite on the level of a Kizuki. Its claws were enough to pierce through the flesh of a human like tissue paper, shaped like long, thin daggers. The edges were smooth, providing a short means of death should the demon choose to aim for the throat.
The demon itself wouldn't be the problem, but rather the presence of an unarmed person behind him; he would have to move him away from the demon as quickly as possible, lest he be responsible for injuring the same poor man once more!
"I suggest you make a run for it! Get as far away from here as possible!"
The sound of footsteps came from behind him, seemingly getting further away. Thankfully, the man didn't seem to resist against his order, which made things much easier. Kyojuro inhaled, angling the tip of his sword towards the demon's neck.
Flame Breathing, Third Form: Blazing Universe.
A trail of fire snaked across the sky as he started forward, concentrating every bit of his energy into the force of his swing. The demon, who was also much quicker than the young female demon, lunged at him as well, baring its claws as it growled. Kyojuro threw his legs to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike as the demon rose once again, nearly foaming at the mouth as it stared back at him.
Suddenly, it folded, screeching as its skin began to bubble. Flesh stretched further than it should have been able to, and the beast almost doubled in size. Its fangs were nearly as sharp as the claws, both of which had lengthened considerably. This. This was the power of a Kizuki. Sure enough, its eyes rolled back to reveal an ink-black kanji etched on its right iris. "Lower Rank Four."
Barely giving him time to react, the demon darted forward again, managing to cut the side of his arm. It stung, but it wasn't deep enough to stunt him in any way.
He continued slashing at the demon, cutting off each of its limbs as it regrew them. The demon made a few horrible sounds, grabbing for him as another limb generated, this time from its stomach—this demon could generate extra limbs?—and attempting to crush his skull.
A sickening crunch sounded throughout the air, followed by the splatter of blood. The demon's arm had been cleanly torn off, the same man whom he had injured earlier now standing on the opposite side of him, his clothes stained crimson by the demon's blood.
"Thank you! That was an incredible move!"
The man braced himself, clearly ready to leap forward again should the need arise. He made no sign of acknowledgement toward Kyojuro's compliment.
"Behead it!"
Turning to focus on the battle ahead, Kyojuro faced the demon again, who had already regrown its limb. However, it seemed... almost afraid. Gladly taking advantage of the demon's sudden preoccupation, Kyojuro closed his eyes.
Flame Breathing, First Form: Unknowing Fire.
Almost as quickly as it had begun, the demon's now-severed head fell to the ground, lost, like many others, to Kyojuro's sleek blade.
He exhaled, sheathing his sword. The scent of demons had completely disappeared, its place now filled with the copper tinge of his blood. He turned to face the other man, who, surprisingly, seemed uninjured, save for the dried blood that covered his lips from their earlier interaction.
"Are you alright?"
He looked up, pale blue eyes meeting red and gold ones.
"Fine. You're bleeding."
"I will live!"
The man was silent, then nodded. Kyojuro, taking that as a sign that he was willing to speak, continued.
"I never learned your name!"
His words were met with a vacant look, as if nobody had ever thought to ask for his name before.
"It's... Akaza."
"Akaza! Where did you learn such moves?"
Akaza tilted his head, pausing for a moment.
"I took Soryu classes when I was younger."
You are incredible! I am grateful you stayed behind to help; I would likely be dead if you didn't!"
Akaza smiled wryly.
"You don't sound too afraid of the prospect."
Kyojuro simply smiled in return.
"Allow me to walk you home as a token of my gratitude!"
His words seemed to surprise Akaza for a moment before he recovered.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm sure I can make it home, Kyojuro."
Akaza was certainly odd. Hardly anyone referred to him by his first name, especially not so soon after meeting him. Not that he minded, of course; it was a formality thing that had remained throughout time, not something he particularly cared about.
"I insist!"
He looked to be on the verge of denying the offer once more but seemed to give in, beginning to walk back in the direction he had presumably come from. Kyojuro followed closely, determined to make it up to the man whom he had just accidentally punched in the face.
"Do you live around here?"
Akaza nodded, turning the corner and stepping onto another street.
"A few streets down. It really isn't far."
The blood was still smudged beneath his nose, a reminder of Kyojuro's earlier lack of regard during the fight.
"We should get you cleaned up! After all, it is my fault that you were hurt to begin with! I can take us to a good yakisoba stand nearby!"
Continuing to walk beside him, Akaza stayed quiet for a long moment.
"Thank you, truly, but I'm really not hungry at the moment."
Although surprised at how he couldn't be hungry after such an eventful night, Kyojuro chose not to push, and they walked together in silence, returning to Akaza's home rather quickly.
As he walked up to the gate, Kyojuro felt Akaza gently take his wrist, if only for a fraction of a second.
"I appreciate your help tonight."
He paused as he felt this grip of the other's hand, a sudden chill overtaking him, then smiled.
"I was only helping a fellow citizen! It's the least I could do!"
Akaza watched as he stepped back, then gave him a barely noticeable smirk.
"You are a strong person, Kyojuro."
The click of the gate shutting behind them is the last shared sentiment in their conversation, leaving him to ponder Akaza's final words.
It was only when he noticed that the spot on his wrist where Akaza had grabbed him had a whiff of that horrifyingly similar sweetness that Kyojuro realized he had never given him his name.