Chapter Text
It’s only as Muichirou circles his patrol area that he stops in his tracks. There have been almost no demons in his perimeter, and the ones he’d run into seemed fearful. No, they were fearful.
But of what?
Yes, Muichirou is a Hashira, but no demon would pass up the chance to devour him. It almost seems like they were running from something else—
Run. Run. Run. You can’t win this. Run. Run. While you still have the chance, and Muchirou’s nerves are fried and he just wants to get out of this dark forest and his instincts are still commanding him to run but he’s a Hashira, Hashira do not run, and Muichirou has deserved his spot so what would the others think if he ran? That he is a coward.
Muichirou turns around. And what greets him is not just a measly bottom feeder, but none other than one of the Twelve Kizuki—Muzan’s most powerful.
An Upper Moon.
It’s not to say that Muichirou has never encountered an Upper Moon. In fact, it’s only been a few days since he had killed Upper Moon Five, Gyokko. That was interesting, but Muichirou barely struggled after he escaped the Water Basin Prison. Actually, he barely struggled after activating his Mark, which manifested as cloud-like symbols on both sides of his cheeks.
So this time can’t be too far from that, right?
But something in his gut makes him think that this time is different.
The demon is wearing black pants with a purple-and-black hexagonal pattern on his nagagi kimono. Muichiro sees something that vaguely looks like a sword sheath at his hip, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on that now.
When Muichirou meets his eyes—or one of the pairs—he freezes. He thinks his own eyes are deceiving him, but there is no mistaking the kanji engraved in the demon’s pupil.
Upper Moon One.
And then Muichirou’s thoughts go haywire. What are you doing, just staring at him? Unsheath your sword, turn and flee, do something!
And that’s when the demon opens his mouth and starts speaking.
“You came…demon slayer. Hm? You…For some reason…You seem familiar.”
This…is Upper Moon One…He’s so different compared to the other moons. He looks so dignified and majestic. And the blade. It’s warped…but he has a sword. Was this man a demon hunter before? Then he must be a user of some brea—I can’t stop this feeling of dread. My body is refusing to battle. This has never happened before in my life.
“Your…name…What is it…”
Muichirou doesn’t really think that matters now, not when he’s probably going to get diced up in a few moments. Still, he can’t find it in himself to turn down the question. After all, if it buys him more time, it is helpful.
“…Tokito Muichirou.” He finally forces out.
The demon’s face does not change. Muichirou has a hard time visualizing the creature in front of him to show any type of emotion on his face anyway.
“Alright…I see…the ‘Tsugikuni’ name has died out then…” He ponders.
Muichirou knows he’s going to die soon, but would it kill this guy to speak normally? And also, what is he talking about?
He takes the other trailing off as an invitation to speak.
“…Tsugikuni? Who is that?” He questions.
He hopes Upper Moon One won’t take the inquiry as disrespect and slit his throat. What an awful way to die.
“It has been…hundreds of years, after all…Quite inevitable…”
Yeah, just like my death after fighting you, Muichirou thinks to himself. He’d never imagined dying to Upper Moon One, of all demons.
Although, at least he’s not dying to a weakling. Small victories, Muichiro, he assures himself.
“My…name back when I was a human was Tsugikuni Michikatsu…”
Alright, maybe Muichirou can somehow use this information to get out of this situation ali—
“You…are a…member of the Tsugikuni family…that I left behind…My child’s…descendant…So you…are my offspring…”
That was not what Muichirou was predicting, and obviously not what his brain was thinking either, as it instantly starts screaming expressions of disbelief.
Offspring…!? Me!? To this guy!? Impossible…I can’t believe this. So this man is a user of the first breath!?
…
Calm yourself!! Don’t panic. None of this matters. Calm down!!
Muichirou gathers himself—or as much as he can, anyway—and resumes his usually blank expression.
He’s calm. Calm in the accepting way of chronically ill people who know their time is up, but calm nonetheless.
Apparently this is something to acknowledge, because Upper Moon One—or Tsugikuni Michikatsu, whatever—puts his hand on his chin and starts speaking again.
“Huh…” he says, as if he’s never seen this phenomenon before.
“Your mental strength…is worth some praise…”
Muichirou wants to scoff, but he can’t waste any more of his energy doing things that won’t aid him.
“You calmed…your panic…in a short moment…” he continues.
Seeing as he’s too busy talking, Muichirou takes the opportunity to attack, unleashing one of his forms.
Breath of Mist: Second Form - Layered Mist!!
As eight slashes cut the air, he prays at least one of them scratches Upper Moon One. Because he surely won’t get a chance like this to attack again. Matter of fact, he surely won’t get another chance to take a single breath, probably.
Upper Moon One speaks from behind him. He’s unharmed. Muichirou can’t say he wasn’t expecting this.
He reminds himself of his training and continues observing because he can’t afford to make careless mistakes with this opponent.
Not even his clothes are slashed. His tone of voice hasn’t even changed. Is there anything in the world that can upset this guy?
“That is…quite a good technique…Mist…I see…not bad…”
Well, if this demon wants to keep talking, Muichirou will keep using the pauses to attack.
Fifth Form - Sea of Clouded Mist
Muichirou zigzags forward, slashing around himself.
The slayer misses again. He looks back, seeing Upper Moon One without even a hair out of place.
“Muichirou…So you are fourteen this year…and your technique is this refined at your age…Despite faltering against me, you had the courage to suppress that in order to cut me down. As I expected from my descendant…My blood may have been watered down a lot…but that’s trivial…Even if my name has died out…My cells increased and remained in you…”
For some reason, this makes Muichirou extremely mad. He did not spend two months becoming a Hashira from a woodcutter—or so Amane tells him—just for this guy to attribute it to his genetics, which is basically complimenting himself and not really Muichirou.
Before he can stop himself, he shoots back.
“Are you joking with me? Even if I am your descendant, if hundreds of years have passed, not a single cell or drop of blood remains inside of my body at this point.”
Maybe he said this to defend himself, but it’s true anyway.
As he thinks, Muichirou feels something strange yet familiar appear on his face. The Mark.
This gives him a burst of motivation and maybe even hope. Maybe he can actually get out of this alive. Muichirou doesn’t think he’s going to behead Upper Moon One, no, but he’s going to try his best to, and who knows, maybe someone will come to his aid.
Breath of Mist: Seventh Form - Haze.
Muichirou really hopes this works. He’d put his all into this last ditch effort—his own form, which he usually doesn’t even have to use against opponents.
To his shock and disappointment, not a single slash is even remotely close to hitting Upper Moon One.
“I should unsheathe my blade as well…or else it would be rude of me…”
Breath of Moon: First Form - Dark Moon: Evening Shrine
And then Muichirou’s missing his left hand.
Breath…of the Moon…!? So he can use techniques that require breaths despite becoming a demon? His speed is in another dimension.
But first he has to do something about his hand.
He can’t hold any sword in this hand now, matter of fact, he can’t do anything with it anymore. All that remains is a stump. Which is burning.
As Muichirou gazes at it, he feels dizzy and nauseous. The pain is intense, burning, crushing. There’s a deep, throbbing ache.
No time for that now.
Using the fabric of his sleeve, he ties his hand, holding one end in his mouth. If he lets go, his missing hand will be the death of him. Literally.
Anyway, that should do for now.
Breath of Mist: Advection Slash…
Things turn for the worse. As he’s making his strike, his own movement is interrupted and turned against him. Muichirou can barely process it as Upper Moon One flips his sword to impale the slayer, pinning him to a nearby tree with his own sword, which is only stopped from exiting his body straight through by his rectangular guard.
The situation has turned from bad to awful. Muichirou doesn’t think he has the strength to unpin himself right now, so he’s effectively at the mercy of Upper Moon One. He’ll probably get eaten, even if he’s pretty small—
“My descendant. Allow me to turn you into a demon. So you can be of use to that man.”
…
What!?
The demon resumes speaking, unaware of the struggle inside the Pillar.
“A descendant of my own cells…is something I never imagined…It moves my heart…”
Drops of sweat are trickling down Muichirou’s face. This is so much worse than being killed and eaten. He hates demons. Getting turned into one is a fate worse than death.
Upper Moon One notices and takes his silence as him pondering the decision.
“Yes…there is nothing to fear…If it’s about your arm…you can grow it again once you become a demon…and I believe that man…should also welcome you…” Upper Moon One reaches for Muichirou’s stump. “Let me stop the bleeding…Humans are so brittle…”
With that astute observation, Upper Moon One starts tying a tourniquet around Muichirou’s arm.
The injured Hashira is stunned.
How could this demon from a few minutes ago be the caring person that’s standing before him now!?
After he’s content with the quality of the medical care (or at least Muichirou assumes; he doesn’t know what’s going on through the demon’s head), Upper Moon One pulls away and keeps yammering on. Muichiro wants to say something in response, but he sees some movement behind the demon.
It’s at this moment that Genya, of all people, appears behind some bushes. And is he holding a gun!? This is not what Muichirou meant when he was hoping for someone to help him!
Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be insulting a person that’s trying to save him, but personally, Muichirou thinks that Genya is no way going to succeed in rescuing him. If a Pillar couldn’t even stand against Upper Moon One, what makes Genya think he can?
Still, Muichirou is not an exceedingly bad person, and he wants his acquaintance and the brother of one of his fellow Hashira (even if Shinazugawa is always denying it) to survive, so he keeps quiet and tries not to be obvious in ogling at Genya so as to not alert the Upper Moon.
“But if…you die from losing too much blood…or that man doesn’t accept you…and you die…then death is your fate…Thus…it means that you are a man who can only go so far…”
Bang!
And contrary to a few seconds ago, Muichirou can’t tear his eyes away from Genya, because Upper Moon One is suddenly behind him.
“Don’t you think so…as well?” He says in a low tone.
Faster than Muichirou can blink, Genya’s arm is lopped off, and his pupils become small and scared.
Blood keeps gushing, and Muichirou is so surprised by Upper Moon One’s speed and action, that he doesn’t even realize he’s screaming.
“Genyaaa!!”
Forgetting his predicament, he tries to run to his fellow slayer’s aid, but instead he meets the guard of his sword. Again.
Muichirou holds back a yelp as the rectangle pushes against his wound, but he keeps watching.
Genya reaches behind himself and grips his sword, but that arm is flying off too.
Muichirou wants to scream. At least if he was killed it would only be him. But now, another person is getting hurt because of him.
Genya falls to his knees, but Upper Moon One does not attack. At least, not yet.
“Hm…I see…So you’ve been eating demons, huh…”
It’s with these words that Upper Moon One slices off Genya’s legs below the knees.
Like last time, the sight is too much for Muichirou to bear, and he again tries to run to Genya. Like last time, he’s reminded of where he is. Genya is definitely going to die, and if by some miracle he doesn’t, he’ll be confined to a wheelchair and a caretaker for the rest of his life.
With his remaining hand, Muichiro rests it on top of his sword handle, trying to pull it out or at least get it to budge.
Can’t pull it…!! Shit!! I can’t pull it out!!
“…Oh. You aren’t dead yet…Even though your torso has been sliced in half…Around three hundred years ago…there was a swordsman who ate demons just like you…He died when I sliced his body…So perhaps for you, it’s your head…?”
?
He can’t let Genya die. He can’t.
Upper Moon One still isn’t paying attention to him. He has to take this shot.
Muichirou grips the sword and pushes against the tree with his feet. It’s not enough. He doesn’t have to take it out of himself right now, he just has to get it out of the tree. He arches his back and trembles, eyes widening when he falls, meeting the forest floor with a sound of pain.
Help Genya! His mind yells, but Muichirou doesn’t think he’ll be able to do anything without his sword, which is—surprise surprise!—currently lodged in his shoulder.
His fingers clasp onto the blade, slipping because of the blood and slicing on the sharp edge. He ignores the pain in his fingers in favor of trying again, begging inside his head for this to work, and ripping the sword—which lands on the ground with a clang!—out of himself and keeling over in pain to the point his forehead touches the ground.
He can feel blood gushing and smell iron in the air; after all, what was he thinking, pulling out something that acted as a plug for his wound.
There’s a sharp, agonizing pain in his shoulder and his remaining complete arm feels very hot and cold at the same time where his shoulder connects with his arm.
Muichirou thinks it kind of reminds him of swimming in water so cold that it feels boiling, but he can’t be too sure.
His memory is better after Swordsmith Village, but it’s still considered awful to the average person, and keeping new memories is still nearly impossible for him to do.
There’s a ringing in his ears and he can distantly make out another sound of a person, but Muichirou doesn’t know if someone is actually shuffling over to him or it’s just his imagination. The footsteps stop, and Muichirou can barely get himself to lift his head to see who it is.
To his horror, it's Upper Moon One.
And then everything goes black.
—
It’s not every day that Kokushibo meets his descendant.
It’s not every day that Kokushibo meets his descendant, who’s actually a Hashira at fourteen years old.
And it’s certainly not every day that Kokushibo meets his descendant, who’s actually a Hashira at fourteen years old, and who manages to surprise Kokushibo at the end of their fight.
—
Kokushibo blinks as the slayer in front of him freezes and turns around.
The slayer meets his eyes, a feat that’s certainly not easy for most.
As Kokushibo gazes upon him and his blank but not quite expression, he gets the feeling that something this time is different. Not bad—just different.
And then Kokushibo makes a discovery.
Transparent World tells him that the blood pumping through the slayer’s body is none other than Kokushibo’s.
How great! Kokushibo came here just to hunt, but perhaps he can leave with more than a full stomach.
The demon is delighted.
This is the first time meeting a descendant of his, and he shows so much promise!
His descendant is clearly a Hashira, obvious with his reaction and also the unique quality of his uniform.
His descendant has blue hazy eyes, long black hair with turquoise tips, and loose black clothing with a greenish tint.
Well, it’s time to finally speak to his blood.
“You came…demon slayer. Hm? You…For some reason…You seem familiar.”
‘Seem familiar’ is an understatement, because the boy in front of him is family.
He must know his name.
“Your…name…What is it…” he asks, giving none of his intentions away.
The boy’s face barely changes, but in the centuries Kokushibo has been alive, he has become an expert in reading his opponents, so Kokushibo knows the boy is contemplating giving the demon his answer.
“…Tokito Muichirou.”
Kokushibo is surprised his question was met with an actual answer, but he doesn’t let any of that show on his face.
They battle, but Muichirou is the only one throwing strikes. It’s impressive how he’s still trying even when he knows that he is no match for Kokushibo.
When Kokushibo starts talking about his cells in Muichirou’s body, it seems to trigger something in him.
“Are you joking with me? Even if I am your descendant, if hundreds of years have passed, not a single cell or drop of blood remains inside of my body at this point.”
And as Kokushibo looks at him, symbols appear on Muichirou’s cheeks.
The Mark…I see. It appeared.
After the Mark manifests, Muichirou unleashes an interesting form. It’s unfamiliar.
I’ve never seen this one before. Breath of Mist users have never used techniques like this.
It looks as if the whole area is covered in fog, but Kokushibo knows better.
Muichirou makes a few more moves to try to behead him, but it doesn’t work.
A unique tempo. It’s hard to read his movements. A technique that uses disturbance tactics.
It’s actually quite impressive. It’s flowing and beautiful. Muichirou must have been the one who created this.
His time of complacency has come to an end.
“I should unsheathe my blade as well…or else it would be rude of me…”
Breath of the Moon: First Form - Dark Moon: Evening Shrine
Kokushibo draws his katana and performs a singular horizontal slash before sheathing his sword.
Muichirou’s hand comes flying off. The boy looks stunned, before he quickly ties it, holding the other end of the fabric in his mouth.
Wonderful…He has the guts to immediately stop the hemorrhaging after losing his arm, then come at me for another attack.
As Muichirou moves to strike, Kokushibo flips his sword and pins the Pillar to a tree.
As Kokushibo is persuading his descendant to turn into a demon, telling him it doesn’t hurt, etc., some pesky brat interrupts their pleasant conversation.
And Kokushibo hates having his conversations interrupted.
He had pretended not to notice the other slayer for Muichirou’s sake, but now he will make the other pay the price.
He cuts off the brat’s arms, then legs, and then finally cuts his torso in half.
When Kokushibo is about to cut off the intruder’s head, he hears sounds in the area where he trapped his descendant.
He turns back around, ignoring the creature on the floor for now.
He sees Muichirou fall from his place in the tree, and then grip the sword, pathetically trying to pull it out.
As Muichiro fails, Kokushibo is reminded of just how young his descendant is. The expression on his face is desperate.
Muichirou still hasn’t noticed Kokushibo watching him and walking over. He finally pulls the sword out and curls up in agony. Kokushibo doesn’t blame him, he can sympathize with Muichirou’s pain. But when his descendant finally becomes a demon, he could avoid this pain altogether!
After a few moments, Muichirou looks up and meets the eyes of Kokushibo once more.
Kokushibo nudges his head with his own fingers, and Muichirou’s eyes close as he falls unconscious.
He hears a gasp from behind him.
The brat is still alive, and he seems shocked. He looks downright furious, likely because Muichirou was his friend or something equally trivial as that.
He doesn’t have time for this. He really doesn’t.
So he leaves the faux-demon alive and gently picks his descendant up.
The next second, the Mist Pillar and Upper Moon One are gone.