walk steady on this cruel world's path

By: Aviantei

Part Eight:

"A Break in the Storm"

Autumn had always been my favorite season, and that hadn't changed since I got dumped into an anime. In fact, I had more reasons to appreciate it now: Autumn meant that summer was over, and life without an air conditioner was a little more bearable, which also meant traveling from town to town was much less exhausting. The other bonus was that I got to see even more breathtaking views as the forests I crossed through transformed from green to gold and red and orange.

"Shit, I love fall," I said, biting into a fire-roasted yam I'd bought from a street vendor after arriving at my destination. The subtle sweetness was pretty much paradise, let's be real. Tadashi, having delivered me to the location of my next mission, had already flown off to wherever he went while I did my job. There were several hours until evening, but I would need to gather up some information in the meantime. The good news was that it wasn't that hard to overhear rumors about people going missing, even while I munched on my snack. With all that groundwork, by the time evening fell, I had found the neighborhood that had the most issues and a pretty decent roof to use as a vantage point for my stakeout.

I liked to think that I'd gotten somewhat decent at hunting demons with a few months of practice under my belt, and I at least had experience to recognize the movement patterns of one in the dark. Which was why when I hadn't noticed a thing and a scream still ripped through the air in the distance, I was pretty damn confused.

Are you fucking kidding me?! I shouted in thought, running across the rooftops towards the area where I'd heard the sound before it broke off. I wasn't about to just let myself sit there in shock. I was looking this way until two seconds ago! There wasn't anything there!

Over the past few months of fighting, my brain had adapted enough that I had started to be less impacted by the deaths of people who'd passed before I arrived—we could save a lot of people, but saving everyone was impossible—but it fucking sucked whenever I showed up and couldn't even protect the people in front of me. My eyes darted across the streets, searching for a sign. I may not have Zenitsu's ears, but I know I heard something. Where are you?!

And then I saw it: a flicker of shadowy movement on one street, which disappeared and reappeared several meters away, and then again, dark puddles of what had to be blood left behind in the spaces where it once was—and I realized just what kind of Blood Demon Art I was dealing with.

Short range teleportation.

Aw, hell, this is gonna be an absolute bitch.

I was okay-ish at best when it came to picking out patterns in people's movements and guessing what they would do next (I could do it with Kaigaku and Zenitsu, but that was because I'd picked up their habits thanks to how long I had trained with them), so I didn't waste too much time on trying to do that here. Instead, I trusted my gut and put my hand on my sword, breathing like always.

"Kaminari no Kokyū—Ichi no Kata: Hekireki Issen."

I launched off the rooftop with enough force to break the tiles, and I swung my sword down towards the road as the dark shape manifested nearby. I didn't land right on target, but the tip of my katana did catch some resistance, which I considered good enough. I dropped my free hand to the ground to slow myself down as I skidded across the road, at last getting a good look at the demon I was hunting.

This one had morphed farther from its original human shape than others I'd fought so far, its arms and legs both thin but long in an extra length that gave them a wide reach, and its face was starting to move out into something that looked closer to a horse's muzzle—you know, if it weren't for the line of razor-sharp teeth between the lips. I could see a piece of clothes stuck in the gap between two of those suckers, not to mention the blood, and that usual godawful taste was in the air.

The demon narrowed its neon green eyes at me and snarled, "Demon Slayer—"

"Shimizu-chan's right. Why do you things always try to monologue?!"

There wasn't a point in it; we weren't going to come to a sudden, magical understanding and just go on our separate ways, not when it had just killed someone. I'd charged as soon as I had a target, but, as I should have guessed, the demon flashed away, my blow hitting nothing. I, on the other hand, took a heavy blow to the back of my head, and I stumbled before lashing back out at the point of impact. As expected of going up against a teleportation user, that attack was pointless, too, and I got to have the experience of being a human punching bag, which was every bit as delightful as you'd suspect it to be.

I spat out the blood from the elbow I'd taken to the face. "Roku no Kata: Dengō Raigō!"

The sixth and final form of Thunder Breathing was another ranged form, but it was a little different from the fourth's approach. While Enrai had a concentrated target, the Dengō Raigō was much more of an area of attack move, and the lightning followed my sword swings. Since it hit a lot at once without much discrimination, it wasn't the best option for team fights, but against an enemy that could be anywhere, it was a good match.

The demon let out a howl of rage, and I'd managed to sever one of its nightmare fuel legs in the strike. I moved in for the counterattack, but one of its spindle-fingered hands shot out, catching my arm and slamming me back to the ground.

Now, the Demon Slayer Corps' uniforms were fucking tough. Through some technique or another (again: secrets lower-ranking Slayers like me weren't privy to), they could resist most cuts and tears, and even some basic Blood Demon Arts like flames. Sure, they wouldn't get out of a fight with a powerful demon like a member of the Twelve Kizuki—the toughest demons out there after you discounted Kibutsuji Muzan himself—unscathed, but lower ranking demons were another matter.

Except the problem was that the fabric was durable, and my human bones were a little bit less so, and thus, when the impact hit, my forearm snapped.

I'd broken my arm once, back when I was in elementary school, and I'd cried all the way to the hospital. Since so much else had been happening then, though, plus it had been a decade ago, I'd forgotten just how much a break like that hurt, and a sound of pain ripped out of my mouth. Making matters worse in comparison to my eight-year-old self's circumstances, I still had to deal with a demon who was trying to kill me.

Fucking fun times, all around!

With a snarl, the demon's other hand went for my neck, and I just managed to jerk out of the way in time. The one goddamn saving grace in this situation was that it was my right arm that had snapped, so I still could grasp my sword in my dominant hand, and you bet that Sensei's training included bullshit like how to keep fighting with one less limb than a full set.

I cut off the hand that was holding me down and managed to roll out of the way—which turned out to be a stupid idea with a broken arm, as said injury further hurt like a bitch, even with the adrenaline to dull it. But I was still alive, so that had to count for something? I managed to get my feet back under me, and my limp forearm slapped against my side. The demon readied itself into a pose very much like a frog from hell before leaping straight at me.

"Ni no Kata: Inadama!"

The resulting attack was so sloppy I should have been ashamed as a Thunder Breathing user to even think about slapping an official technique name on it. But it borrowed enough from the sword strike patterns to be close, produced some feeble sparks in effect, and the demon fell apart to pieces regardless, so I was going to give myself a pass and never ever mention my sins to Sensei.

Stabbing my sword into the ground for support, I caught my breath first before dropping to a sit, at last able to cradle my broken arm against me. It didn't feel like the bone had broken through the skin, so that was good? Fuck it, being optimistic in this situation was so not worth it! I straight up wanted to cry, but I managed to hold on for a minute to shout, "Tadashi!" My Kasugai Crow squawked from a nearby rooftop, and I looked up where I thought I could see his outline in the dark. "Can you get me a Kakushi? Please and thanks, sweetie."

The supporting Kakushi Corps had medical care skills that could help out in this situation way more than I could. Hating every single movement that even so much as nudged my broken bone, I managed to get my sword back in its sheath and crawled my ass over to the nearest wall to wait.

The next steps on my to do list happened to be try not to cry and cry a lot. At least by the time the Kakushi arrived along with the light of the dawn, I'd worked that shit out of my system, but I might have been just a little delirious from the far too delayed panic as the person in their own dark uniform and white face covering tried to give me a temporary splint.

"Hey, hey," I said, trying to tug on their sleeve, "fun bone fact: my arm is broken!"

"Rairi-san, please stop flailing around; I'm trying to help."

In retrospect, the fact that they knocked me the fuck out seemed like the best course of action.

When I woke up, my location had been elevated from a random street in some town to a proper bed. The air smelled like medicine, which left a bitter taste along my tongue but was still a good sign for me at the end of the day. Sure enough, I could feel my arm wrapped up tight under the blankets, which was another good sign. Out of curiosity, I traced my fingers along my forearm, not even feeling anything. Whatever painkiller they'd stuffed in me was some good shit.

Now I just had to deal with the fact that I was a Demon Slayer with a broken bone.

I groaned, throwing my non-injured arm over my eyes. I wouldn't be on any field missions in the coming weeks, and I had the feeling that picking up a sword to practice would be frowned upon. Sure, there were ways to stay in shape with a broken arm, but there would be limits, and I could see myself getting antsy in the recovery period. Not to mention I'd have to write home to tell everyone what had happened; Sensei wouldn't be beyond writing me back a lecture, Kaigaku would be unimpressed, and Zenitsu might even cry…

Not looking forward to the response I'd get back in the slightest, I groaned a second time, and much louder than before to boot. To my side, there was a rustle of fabric, and I turned my head slow (not because it hurt, but because I was being cautious of doing anything that could set back my healing time) to find someone in my face.

Someone with a very pretty face and teal eyes, and wait, I knew her— "Shimizu-chan?!"

"Rairi-kun! You woke up!" Yeah, that was Shimizu alright; even the sound of her worried voice was pretty. "How are you feeling? Do you know where you are?" She helped me sit up, propping some spare pillows behind me and the headboard, and my back was grateful for the new angle. I was much more of a side sleeper, but I guessed that wasn't going to be the best option for a while. "The Kakushi brought you to one of the Wisteria Houses to recover."

Yup, that was a logical move. Run by a family that aided the Demon Slayer Corps, Wisteria Houses were safe points for members to recover between missions—and they would provide long-term housing whenever we had injuries to deal with. It was free food and a bed with medical care included, which was an overall sweet setup, as much as I didn't want to be out of commission for the next several weeks.

Of course, it also presented a rather important question:

"Shimizu-chan, why are you here?"

Shimizu's smile had an undeniable nervous tinge to it. "Oh, you know. About the same reason as you." I glanced over her arms, but I didn't see a matching cast. Noticing my gaze, she pulled up the front of her top, revealing a vast expanse of bandages with the faintest traces of blood starting to come through. "Kinda got messed up real bad."

Hissing, I grimaced. "This is no offense to you, but I'm now feeling super lucky for just having a broken arm." Shimizu laughed as she pulled her clothes back into place, and the sound sent a pleasant little flip through my stomach. Could I still stay in denial over this? Maybe blame the drugs? Stay tuned to find out! "Are you gonna be okay?"

Shimizu nodded, flexing her arm and patting the bicep. "I'll be alright, but I'm stuck on bedrest for the next few weeks." Her smile was still warm, so I supposed she was at peace with the situation. "Did you know, Rairi-kun? It can take up to and over six weeks for a broken arm to heal at a normal rate, but Total Concentration users tend to heal faster than the average, so you should be better at least a little bit early! Hooray!"

"Hooray," I echoed, sounding drained, which was accurate. I did get time to eat and sleep as I traveled between jobs, but I hadn't had any proper time off since I'd gotten started. To be fair, since it was now my job to keep people safe from demons, I didn't mind devoting myself to the cause, but I guessed this was one way to get a vacation. "Well, at least we'll have each other's company until then?"

"Mmhmm! I know this sounds bad, but I'm kinda excited." Shimizu scratched at the back of her head, looking apologetic, but I was too busy thinking she looked adorable to judge her. "I super appreciate everything you did to help me out during Final Selection. And while exchanging letters is nice, it's great to see you again in person, Rairi-kun."

Um, excuse you. Please don't make me any more gay than I already am. This is bad enough as it already is! For once, I was able to stop that thought from popping out of my mouth, instead saying, "Me, too, Shimizu-chan. Though maybe next time we should try not getting beat up before we see each other again?"

"Hmm, noted. In the future, I'll try my best to refrain from sustaining major injuries just to see you, even if it would be worth it. Eh, Rairi-kun, are you coming down with a fever? I hope it's not an infection or anything. I'll get the doctor; your face is burning red—"

For one reason or another, this was going to be a very long term of bedrest.

"Rairi-kun, do you know about Total Concentration: Constant?"

A few days had passed since I'd woken up at the Wisteria house, and Shimizu-chan and I had been delegated to bedrest. I was allowed to get up on my own to use the bathroom and stuff, but training was a no-go, so I ended up in bed for the whole day (at least there were books, and dear lord I was glad my Japanese knowledge included a perfect mastery of kanji, because what a complicated writing system and a half that was) aside from when I got up to take a walk to stretch out my legs. Shimizu often came with me, and today was no exception as we followed the walls surrounding the grounds.

I tilted my head at the question. "No, but I mean, I can kinda guess based on the name." And then the implications of what said name meant hit me, and I grimaced. "By 'constant,' do you mean the dictionary definition of 'constant'? Tell me the kanji used and the number of strokes it has!"

Total Concentration was all about breathing in the correct pattern and intention to elevate the body to its utmost potential. If you did it wrong, overloading yourself, you could break down your body because of it. And even if you didn't run up against that limit, pushing yourself was exhausting; even after all the training I had done, pulling off multiple breath techniques in one fight was enough to wind me and leave my limbs feeling heavy.

So the idea of doing that constantly? I was sure even Kaigaku would balk at the concept, and that was saying something considering his sheer stubbornness.

But Shimizu just nodded. "Yeah, like, all the time. Not just in battle, but all day. Even when you sleep." I came to a dead stop and had to prop myself up on the wall to stay on my feet. Even when you sleep? Shimizu-chan, I thought I was the one of us who keeps ending up with head injuries! Shimizu giggled, waiting for me to recover. "It's a level of skill that can change take you're capable of to a whole new level. Anyone who's ever achieved the level of Hashira can do it!"

That caught my attention—not because I had ambitions to become a Hashira or anything, but because Sensei had been one. No wonder I hadn't even been able to come close to replicating his unparalleled style; he was operating on a different physical level than I'd been able to imagine. Come to think of it, Sensei never said that Total Concentration as used for Thunder Breathing was the be all end all. It was just the level that we were capable of, the level necessary to become a Demon Slayer. Turning so my back could rest against the wall, I sighed.

This is so going to fucking suck, but—

"How do you do it?" I asked, trying to pay attention to my breath as I did so. Like, you had to keep up Total Concentration even when you talked? What fresh hell was this supposed to be?! "I mean, uh, besides the obvious."

Shimizu tucked her arms behind her back. "Well, I haven't been able to do it yet, but I know the theory? It is just going to be trial and error. But every split second longer you can do it, then that's another split second closer to always, right?" And there were just tens of thousands of seconds in the day; no big deal! Shimizu smiled, pumping both her fists with enthusiasm. "Let's try it together, then! I'm sure we can just practice the breathing part without making our injuries worse."

I nodded. Total Concentration was exhausting, sure, but I was stuck in bed all day anyways. Might as well wear myself out to make the time pass faster. "Alright, we can help each other out, Shimizu-chan. I look forward to working with you and all that."

"Mm! I'm in your care, Rairi-kun!"

And so began the innocent and misleading introduction to the beyond obnoxious next three weeks of my life.

[Author's Notes]

Hi, folks, I hope that you're all having a good day, or at least that this chapter adds some good vibes to your goings-on.

Thanks to WhiteKnightPendragon, , amgs, Chronic Guardian, Cadmus8, ILikeFoxes828, gomezluis298, listen-to-the-melodys, JayAttano, flowersky, pandragonic, runelt99, ShuLuo, Grey Book, GenericUserName9, and Nameless Angel 00 for the faves, follows, and reviews. You're all champs, as per always. This story has already passed 100 followers and favorites!(?!) What the actual heck, everyone, you're gonna make me cry. Rairi's adventures are just getting started, so let's keep on going together.

Also please know that if you leave a question in a review, I have plans to answer those in future author's notes so that everyone can benefit from them. I really do want to answer all reviews personally, but work and such is busy right now, and I'm putting a lot of time into maintaining my mental health, too, so that might have to wait for summer. For now, just know that I see what you all are commenting, and I often a read a lot of these a couple of times for a mood boost, so your words are worthwhile.

It's time for a Taishō Era Secret! According to the manga, Total Concentration Breathing brings humans closer to the levels of being a demon. For the purposes of this fic, we're operating off my headcanon mechanics, so buckle up!

All Total Concentration techniques do produce the effects given; it's not just a visual effect. While Demon Slayers don't necessarily develop powers on their own, the focused breathing can enhance the body, while also creating a sort of "channel" effect that impacts the elements and such of the world, thus producing a literal effect whenever performed properly. I meant to have Rairi explain something along these lines, but it never happened in the narration of any of the chapters, so here we go!

Because of this, partially formed techniques can still have an effect, but it's much weaker—like Rairi's half-assed Inadama in this chapter! Often, learners of a certain Breathing technique will manifest smaller, unfocused elemental, etc. bursts that don't take concrete form until performing a form correctly. These extra effects manifesting can also give those developing a new breathing style guidance in creating a new technique!

Additionally, since Total Concentration use does make it so humans are closer to demons, that means even basic users see some enhanced healing benefits, though this is more thanks to the enhanced blood flow through the body. This effect is just minimal, though, slightly boosting healing times; it takes much more mastery of the technique and intention to achieve the level of rapid healing utilized by Hashira. However, pushing one's body past it's limits before it has full time to adjust can have negative effects on a person, such as straining their heart or body to the point of collapsing.

Next Time: Shit, this is an awkward reunion, is it still a joint mission if you split up, and there's danger in familiar faces. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[04.10.2021]