walk steady on this cruel world's path

By: Aviantei

Part Twenty-Five:

Interlude: "I Only Want What I Can't Have I"

Kaigaku knows better than anyone else that he didn't survive the demon attacking the temple where he lived as a child because he was strong. No, Kaigaku survived because he was lucky, because the demon was greedy and wanted to eat more, because the demon made him an offer of "Help me get inside, and I'll let you live," and Kaigaku agreed.

The demon was strong, so the demon got to make the rules. Kaigaku was weak, so he was at the demon's mercy.

There was the chance it could have been a trap, sure. The demon could have lied and killed Kaigaku anyway. But at least that way there was a chance—one clouded by terrifying uncertainty, but a chance.

Kaigaku needs to be strong so he doesn't have to make a choice like that again.

Kaigaku needs to be strong so he doesn't have to take a risk like that again.

(It horrifies him, that prospect: If you were in that position again, would you do the same thing? Would you sacrifice everyone again, just for the chance that you might live? That question slips into his thoughts at the most inopportune moments, at the slightest relaxation of his mental vigil, and Kaigaku is more frightened by the fact that he can't say he wouldn't than the possibility of having his life in danger again.)

With the demon attack comes the Demon Slayers, though they're too late to save anyone and, thus, useless. Even so, they carry swords with an aura of sheer confidence. They wear uniforms with the kanji for Destroy stitched into the backs, white thread on black fabric, like a ray of light melting through the darkness.

These people can fight demons. They are strong enough to not need to fear decisions like the one Kaigaku was forced to make.

They are a possibility.

In addition to Gyōmei-nii, who was everyone's caretaker, there is one other child aside from Kaigaku left, and Sayo is traumatized. This is a fact Kaigaku recognizes much later, when he has the words to describe it, when he will deny that term applies to him as well. He is strong; he has no room for something like trauma, and, if he acts as such, then it must be true.

But in the days following the incident, Kaigaku has a decision to make. He could go with the Demon Slayers now—but that would put him in a position involving unfortunate questions about why he survived. The other option is to disappear and to find his way to the Demon Slayer Corps another time, another day. He already has the money he took from the orphanage, the money he was planning to steal. He could survive, and then push his way into the Demon Slayer Corps another day—with his own strength, and not as a charity case.

Yes. I'll be strong enough on my own.

Kaigaku clutches the pouch of stolen money tucked inside his kimono, gives one last appraising look at the Demon Slayers, and runs.

Living on his own is not easy, but it's not impossible, either. So many other kids aside from Kaigaku are scrambling to survive in the slums, but that just means he has plenty of people to learn from. What to do when you want to make it to the top, and what not to do if you want to have a chance at staying there. All of it is out and in the open, and Kaigaku is a fast learner.

It doesn't take long before his growth spurt kicks in. Kaigaku gains height, muscle (augmented by the food he fights to secure), and the know-how to use both well. It's the first time he feels strong, and he vows to do whatever is necessary to secure that feeling forever.

The days and months and seasons and years roll into each other until Kaigaku finds himself in the presence of Kuwajima Jigorō. He's an old man, one leg's calf replaced with a peg, but Kaigaku can tell he's strong. The past half a decade and some change of Kaigaku's well-built confidence crumbles to pieces in the man's presence. Kuwajima stares at Kaigaku, as if he can see right into the pits of the boy's soul and every ugly little piece inside of it, from the food he's stolen to the selfish little core that made Kaigaku sacrifice seven other children for the chance to spare his own life. And then Kuwajima opens his mouth and offers an apprenticeship, and Kaigaku cannot refuse, not if he wants to get stronger.

Later, after he's been clothed and fed and bathed, Kaigaku will learn that Kuwajima Jigorō is a Cultivator who once was the Demon Slayer Corps' Roaring Hashira, and it will feel like fate.

Living in the custody of Kuwajima Jigorō feels like a goddamn joke compared to surviving on the streets. There's a roof over your head, three meals a day, clean clothes, clean water, a place to bathe, wisteria (and the smell makes him nauseous every fucking time) incense surrounding the estate so no demons can cross the threshold. No bugs, no rats, no dirt, no garbage, no risk of someone trying to gut you in your sleep on the off chance you were stupid enough to keep something valuable on you. Sure, there's sword training, and it's not easy—but it's for the sake of getting stronger, and Kaigaku will put up with any means if strength is the outcome.

(Kaigaku needs to be strong, so he can make the decisions he wants, instead of the ones he needs just to survive.)

And then there's them.

Rairi is a strange presence, like the scent of the air that tickles your nose before a thunderstorm: a sensation that sends a bolt of recognition through you while at the same time seeming ethereal. At first glance, they could be mistaken for a woman—or perhaps a rather pretty man—but neither of those terms fit quite right. Kaigaku tries to figure it out before deciding that it doesn't matter, considering that he will surpass them soon enough. Total Concentration Breathing feels like some sort of scheme to get Kaigaku to slow down, to stop rushing, but he grasps onto the fundamentals of swordplay with no major issues. When Sensei allows the two to spar, Kaigaku is more than ready to win, to have a victory to show off the fruits of his labor.

Rairi trounces him.

When they spar one more time, then another, and the results are the same, Kaigaku knows that it's not a fluke.

Rairi leans more towards technical skill than brute strength, but that approach doesn't seem to be a hindrance for them. Their deep brown eyes assess the situation before them, and their long braid flutters in the wake of their movements. With a style of elegance, they know just what to do to exploit Kaigaku's weaknesses, and they have the physical ability to pull it off.

"That," Sensei says while applying a bandage to the latest instance of bleeding forehead Kaigaku has earned from Rairi's bokuto, "is the difference between someone who understands Total Concentration and someone who does not."

So Kaigaku puts his all into it, and he starts to see results. Every day, he demands sparring matches from Rairi, and, every day—though not without the occasional "Aren't you tired of fighting me yet?"—Rairi acquiesces and fights. Kaigaku learned how to brawl on the streets by absorbing the examples of what the others around him did, and he intends to steal everything he can from his senpai to improve.

Kaigaku is a fast learner, and he does manage to achieve this goal.

The problem is that Rairi is learning, too. They're an ever-moving goal post that Kaigaku can't seem to catch up with, no matter how hard he tries. It's as motivating as it is frustrating. Kaigaku does not feel weak, but he also knows that he could feel stronger.

(Kaigaku needs to be strong.)

So he continues to train, practicing even when Sensei gives them days off. He continues to hound Rairi for sparring matches until they get fed up and impose restrictions. Kaigaku takes the matches he's allowed and milks them for everything they're worth. Slow, steady, and satisfying, his skills improve. And even if he can't beat Rairi in a one-on-one, Kaigaku has no doubt that he'll do it someday, so long as he keeps pushing, so long as he's still alive to fight.

(Kaigaku needs to be strong.)

He grips his bokuto tighter and swings.

Agatsuma Zenitsu is another matter altogether.

In short: he's weak. He cries at the littlest things and runs screaming from training because he thinks working up a sweat is gonna kill him. He has no fucking idea what staring death in the face looks like. Whenever he isn't sobbing over training, he's going on about the girls in town, not learning his lesson from when the last one dumped her debt on him. Kaigaku, sharing the duty with Rairi, spends half his training sessions on dragging Zenitsu back to practice, when the time would be much better spent on refining his own skills.

In short: Zenitsu pisses Kaigaku off, and the one saving grace about the whole situation is that Sensei's home is big enough that they don't have to share a room. Kaigaku's convinced he would smother Zenitsu in his sleep within a week if they did.

As far as Kaigaku's concerned, if the coward wants to run, let him run. It's not like he'd fare much better against a demon. But Sensei insists on keeping him around and drags Zenitsu back again and again—though not without smacking him around along the way. That makes Kaigaku feel at least somewhat satisfied.

Rairi, in comparison to Sensei, is an absolute saint with Zenitsu. They are not a one-hundred percent kind person. Rairi will sass back at Sensei, taunt Kaigaku whenever he gets cocky. But Kaigaku's never seen them do that with Zenitsu. Rairi is patient, and, somehow, they have a talent for saying things that get results.

A pep talk a few weeks in and Zenitsu's escape attempts decrease.

Two months later and Zenitsu stops becoming attracted to any girl who so much as breathes in his vicinity.

By the end of summer, Zenitsu follows Rairi around like a goddamn lost puppy, though they remain oblivious to why.

Kaigaku takes a vindictive satisfaction in the way Zenitsu fumbles any Thunder Breathing form beyond the first, that Kaigaku can decimate Zenitsu whenever they spar. He may not be able to win against Rairi, but he sure as hell won't lose to someone so pathetic.

(At night, sometimes that thought catches up to him, though it's been years:

If you were in that position again, would you do the same thing?

He thinks of his current life, the general ease of it, despite the frustration. Unlike the temple, he enjoys it here, and not just as a means to an end. He'd never say it out loud, but he likes the training, the meals together, the comfort of having a close-knit group of people, not unlike, dare he say it, a family.

He would not need to worry about Sensei or Rairi. Sensei may be a retired Hashira, but he can still stand on his own. Rairi is always a step ahead of Kaigaku and can take care of themself. Zenitsu is the problem, the weak link that needs protecting, the piece that could tear everything apart.

Kaigaku needs to be stronger.)

"And it's for those reasons that I will entrust the three of you to carry on for me when the time comes."

Kaigaku has put up with a lot of bullshit in the past year and a half since he became Kuwajima Jigorō's apprentice. Sure, most of said bullshit involves Zenitsu in some way or another, but it's still bullshit, nonetheless. Both Rairi and Sensei have vouched for Zenitsu's supposed ability, and, for a while, Kaigaku believed that it might be there, but if it hasn't shown up by now, when will it?

Sharing the successorship with Rairi, the two of them working together to cultivate others—Kaigaku doesn't think he's ever wanted something so much before. And of course he'd be okay if Sensei had chosen Kaigaku alone, and he would have also stepped aside if Rairi had taken up that honor. But this? This bullshit idea that the three of them will carry it on together?

That Zenitsu is somehow worthy to be part of that, when he still cries at least every other day and hasn't been able to complete a single Thunder Breathing form beyond the Hekireki Issen?

It's an insult to all the work Kaigaku has put in. Even worse, it's an insult to Rairi, who wields all six forms, who's already achieved the title of Demon Slayer.

So he protests. Rairi argues back, and then Kaigaku's shouting, as if a maelstrom has been unleashed from the depths of his heart—and when he realizes that Rairi's going to keep defending Zenitsu, despite it being pointless, Kaigaku storms out of the room before he can let them lower themself any further, Rairi yelling curses at his back before their voice cuts off.

Even now, after all this training, Kaigaku still hasn't managed to beat Rairi in a fair fight. The losses sting, but he knows Rairi is worthy of his respect. And because he respects them, Kaigaku doesn't want to see them make excuses.

A few days later, when he asks to spar, it'll be the best way he can think of to show that he still respects Rairi, even if Sensei's decision still stings. Kaigaku knows that what he should be doing is apologizing, but the words get stuck in his throat every time. So he asks to spar and hopes it'll be enough.

Rairi accepts his challenge, and it feels like it is.

Still, the weeks after they leave for a Corps mission are rough. Kaigaku thought it might be easier to deal with Zenitsu if he didn't have to watch Rairi doting on the piece of scum all day, but he's wrong. Now there's no buffer between the two, nothing to catch and absorb Kaigaku's feelings before they break out and attack others, and not a day passes without Kaigaku shouting about the fact that Zenitsu's crying or Zenitsu crying about the fact that Kaigaku's shouting, and it's a negative feedback loop that never ends. What's even worse is that Zenitsu doesn't fight back, though he's more than capable of it—when Rairi is there to boost his confidence. Even more infuriating is the way Zenitsu still calls him Aniki, like he looks up to Kaigaku. It's pathetic, it's frustrating, and Kaigaku's pretty sure he'll tear down Sensei's home if he has to put up with this for six more months. It'll be much better if they stay away from each other, and Kaigaku tells Zenitsu as much.

"Get out of my sight.

"You know what I'm talking about.

"Aren't you ashamed of crying like a baby all day long?

"Any time spent on you is wasted."

And of course that day Rairi comes home. Of course that day Rairi sees what Kaigaku's doing. They lay into him, and Kaigaku argues back. Because, sure, it's nice to think they all can play pretend forever, but they're all going to have to face the real world sooner or later. Rairi can be idealistic all they want, and Zenitsu can cry at every little thing—but if they both keep that up, some demon or another will tear both of them to shreds.

Zenitsu may piss him off, but even Kaigaku doesn't want to see him die. And Rairi—he shouldn't have to worry about it because Rairi is strong, but if they ever did die like that—

(The anger that bubbles out of him has its roots in pure fear, but he will never admit that, not even to himself.)

And so the two of them fight again, with Zenitsu behind Rairi like some pathetic princess waiting to be saved by the hero of the story. Kaigaku has no problems being the villain if it will make them understand, that Rairi can't protect Zenitsu forever—that if they make that their goal, they'll just end up heartbroken when something happens outside of their control that takes it all away.

"Maybe you're right," Rairi says, and Kaigaku's so floored by the admission that he forgets to press the advantage. "I won't always be there to protect Zenitsu, Kaigaku. I've come to terms with that. But—

"I know that I won't have to, because both my kōhai are strong enough to take care of themselves wherever they may end up."

Both my kōhai, they say without the faintest traces of hesitation. It's not just about Zenitsu, but both of them, and Rairi believes in him, Rairi thinks he's strong enough, even like this, and it's such a wonderful thing to hear that Kaigaku almost can't bear how happy those words make him, despite the fact that he's bunched in with Zenitsu, despite how he was so angry before, and he has to leave before he breaks then and there.

(If it were just the two of them, if he and Rairi were the only ones there, maybe it would be different, maybe Kaigaku could let himself split apart and show vulnerability, because even with that, Rairi wouldn't look down on him, but he can't, not with Zenitsu there, he cannot—)

(Kaigaku needs to be strong.)

Not even ten minutes later, he regrets storming off; it has to be coincidence that Rairi was able to see them today. Who knows when they'll be able to stop by again, if they'll even live long enough for Kaigaku to see them one more time—and he cuts that thought off with a vengeance as he stomps his way back to the clearing, just in time to overhear Rairi and Zenitsu talking in a conversation that would interrupt if he intruded. So he waits and listens for a moment to come back in while the two of them talk about what drives them.

Of all things, Rairi wants to learn Thunder Breathing because they think it's beautiful. Zenitsu wants to be strong enough to save people. And Kaigaku? What can he say in comparison to that?

(Kaigaku needs to be strong, because he wants to survive.

Kaigaku needs to be strong, because he can't stand the feeling of helplessness that paralyzed him that night outside the temple and sometimes still creeps up on him in the dark.

Kaigaku needs to be strong, because he has no idea how to accept that it's okay to be otherwise.)

In some world out there, maybe Kaigaku could have stepped forward and said those things. He could have joined the conversation—let himself be part of what Rairi calls their chosen family, let their collective camaraderie draw them closer, down the path where the three of them could stand proud at each other's sides as Kuwajima Jigorō's successors.

But then there's a rustle of movement, and through the trees Kaigaku can see how close Rairi gets to Zenitsu without hesitation, sees the flush of red on their kōhai's cheeks, and a dark feeling catches his heart in its grasp, and Kaigaku can't move. All he can do is watch, as Zenitsu performs his twofold variation of the Hekireki Issen, as Rairi beams with a pure and unadulterated excitement.

"I think your Hekireki Issen is absolutely beautiful."

(Never once has Rairi said something like that to him; they've hardly praised his efforts whatsoever, and the jealousy he feels is so fierce that Kaigaku storms off back the way he came without saying another word to either of them, ripping a fresh peach of the branch with such force that it rattles the rest of the tree and sends a bird retreating into the unfair azure sky above. When he tears an angry bite from the fruit, it's rotten, and he spits it back out to the ground.

It will be over half a year before he sees Rairi again.)

The day Sensei approves him for Final Selection cannot come fast enough.

Somehow, Kaigaku manages to not outright murder Zenitsu by winter, though he's not quite sure how he pulled that one off. Kaigaku counts down the days until it's been two years on the dot since he began his training and gets up early in the morning to talk to Sensei. He doesn't even need to say anything before his teacher sighs, "Yes, my boy. We'll go tonight."

Killing that first demon feels just a little bit like killing a piece of the pathetic child that he was that night back outside the temple.

Final Selection is just as cathartic, and Kaigaku achieves nothing more than scraps of sleep during the days for the anticipation of fighting, of proving his worth. Rairi mentioned that they completed Final Selection with the help of another candidate, which might have been the best move considering the powerful demon that they encountered in the process.

Even so, Kaigaku has every intention of surviving this test alone, and he succeeds, though several other participants also manage to make it through. Passing Final Selection feels like a victory with all the demons that he managed to defeat, without ever getting a handle on the Hekireki Issen. He doesn't need it to be victorious, to stand as a Demon Slayer.

He doesn't return home after the test concludes, instead waiting for his Nichirin katana in the closest Wisteria House. His new Corps uniform is a perfect fit, and he wears it plain, without any adornments or decoration. Kaigaku has no problem openly bearing the kanji for Destroy on his back, with boxing up his former ensemble and setting it aside as a symbol of a period of his life completed.

(The golden magatama pendant he was left at the temple with stays tied around his neck, just visible through his open collar.)

When his swordsmith arrives, it's Hanai, the same person who forged Rairi's blade. "You sure made me travel the extra distance, didn't you?" they ask as they offer the sword, its sheath shining with a black lacquer, the ornamentations an accented gold, with the triangle-patterned tsuba still white. Kaigaku makes a noncommittal grunt as he tries not to tear the blade from their hands. "No matter. Since Kuwajima-dono has named you all his successors, I made the hilt, tsuba, and scabbard designs a matching set to his and Rairi-san's. That said, I hope the blade is to your liking."

Sure enough, the ornamentation matches what Kaigaku remembers of Rairi's sword, save the darker color. Though he's been using a live blade for at least the past year, the weight of this one feels different in his palms, a much better fit. Kaigaku draws the katana, prepared for the change in color and hoping for the same metallic yellow as Rairi and Sensei's.

He does not get that result. Instead, a branching bright yellow lightning bolt crawls up the middle of the blade. Kaigaku blinks, not sure how he's supposed to react to that—but Hanai sucks in an excited breath, which means it's at least something good? "You're lucky, Kaigaku-san," Hanai says. "Generally only powerful Thunder Breathing users manifest a pattern like this."

Kaigaku swells in pride—not even Sensei nor Rairi had this pattern, which means Kaigaku has the potential to surpass them both. Sure, it will take work, and it won't be easy, but Kaigaku's more than willing to put in the effort necessary to achieve just that. Maybe he can make Sensei recognize that he's much more suited to be the successor than Zenitsu is.

If I become a Hashira, then—

It's a goal, and that's all that Kaigaku needs to push on, to march forward.

(Kaigaku is going to be stronger.)

Life as a Demon Slayer is different from his lifestyle at Sensei's home, and Kaigaku's more than okay with that. While it's not all that much as a Mizunoto, the Corps gives at least enough money for food and lodging when out on missions, so his quality of life doesn't deteriorate much. In fact, without having to deal with Zenitsu's presence day in and day out, Kaigaku might even say that day to day life is much improved, even when you factor in the demon battles.

Not every fight goes as smooth as the ones on Fujikasane-yama, where the strength of the opponents was kept under a certain level. Kaigaku earns his fair share of injuries—but he emerges alive and victorious, and that's what matters most.

Until you die, you haven't lost.

The one thing that doesn't change is the letters. Rairi was good about writing home all the time, and they're just as good about writing to Kaigaku on his own now that he's traveling as a Slayer. The first one is a note of congratulations for passing Final Selection—and then the missives come often, Rairi's neat little script telling stories of their own missions, of asking after his wellbeing, and Kaigaku tries to pretend that whenever he sees their Kasugai Crow approaching that he doesn't get a little excited.

Zenitsu also writes, though less often and never at the same length.

Kaigaku reads all the letters that Rairi and Zenitsu send him, though he's never replied—but not for lack of trying. At first, he tries to make the excuse that he doesn't have anything to write back with, but Rairi's crow just gives him a look of such pure judgement that Kaigaku gives up and goes to purchase a travel kit of ink, brush, and parchment that can fit in his uniform jacket's inner pockets. Except when he sits down and tries to write a response, all he ends up with is drops of ink on the page, because what is he supposed to say after the fight they had in the orchard all those months ago? Even if Rairi's writing to him, it's not like he can just ignore that it happened.

You should have better things to do than cling to home, Demon Slayer-sama. What the fuck was he trying to prove?

Why the fuck can't he just suck it up and write that he's sorry?

(Apologies never fixed shit when everyone at the temple was dead, never had a place in the slums unless you wanted to get crushed into the damn ground.)

So he starts and stops and crumbles up dozens of pieces of paper into balls that land in the garbage across the various inns and Wisteria Houses he stays at, and he's almost disgusted by the money he's wasted, despite being able to afford anything he wants now, thanks to his promotions. The unimpressed looks that Rairi's crow gives him whenever Kaigaku chases the thing off don't help, and even Momo keeps staring at Kaigaku whenever he sits down to try writing something. Getting the summons to go on missions is a godsend, because when he's hunting down and fighting demons, Kaigaku doesn't have to think.

Except this is some ridiculous joint mission or another, which means Kaigaku has to wait on the edge of the stupid forest for whoever else the Corps is sending to "help." He resents the idea of needing backup, no matter how many other Slayers have gone missing on this assignment, but Momo's annoying as all hell and will make him regret it if he doesn't at least meet with the person, so he waits it out underneath a cloudy sky.

And of course that day Rairi arrives as his backup.

This is good news, because Rairi is competent and won't slow him down in the slightest. This is bad news, because Kaigaku never did manage to write back, and now the comparative ease of their former relationship as senpai and kōhai is strained to the point where they can't even talk to each other. He suggests splitting up, and Rairi agrees.

He spends the whole day half combing the forest for any signs of the demon, half thinking back to Rairi's expression when they recognized him, the way their smile froze and their tone shifted to pure awkwardness. He doesn't like it in the slightest, and not just because it's their reaction to him. Rairi is at their best when they're at ease, their smile small but with plenty of joy in the expression regardless—and Kaigaku's the one that messed that up, the one that caused them to—

He pauses, a hand resting on a nearby tree trunk as the sound of the stream in the middle of the woods burbles in the background, the rough bark scraping against his calluses. Why does he even care? If Rairi wants to defend Zenitsu enough that they don't even want to deal with Kaigaku anymore, that's their goddamn business.

It doesn't change the fact that Kaigaku hates the idea.

What he hates even more is that he comes up empty on finding anything helpful to hunting down their target. There's a frustration building up inside him, and cutting a demon to ribbons would be the perfect stress relief. Except the dark of night falls first, and Kaigaku resigns himself to another unbearable conversation as he heads to meet up with Rairi—and their silence when he sees them just makes everything even worse.

He tries to say at least something, he does, but then there's a flash of metal as Rairi draws their sword on him, and shock like the cells throughout his body are screaming rips through him. Kaigaku knows that he tests Rairi's patience, but it's never been bad enough for them to attack him outside of sparring—except Rairi's swordplay is sloppy, and he realizes a bit too late that their blade is in their right hand instead of their left.

Whatever's attacking him isn't Rairi, and the fact that it's using their image like that adds just another spark to Kaigaku's already raging fury. He roars as he unleashes a Thunder Breathing form, his Netsu Kairai decimating the strange shell in the shape of his senpai, and the sound of a different rumble of thunder in the distance gives him a clue to Rairi's actual whereabouts.

This time, the first thing he checks is that Rairi's sword is resting on the correct hip—but even that is just so reassuring. It's when they exchange questions that Kaigaku lets himself feel relieved, but the best option for luring the thing out is separating, and if the demon's any form of intelligent it'll realize its mirroring mistake. It's not like it's hard to put a sword in the other hand and move a sheath around. But if the thing's a shell, then—

"Undo your collar," Kaigaku says, already getting started on untying his choker. If nothing else, he can make sure he doesn't lash out at the wrong person. Rairi looks at him in disbelief, scowls, but acquiesces anyways, and Kaigaku's cold fingers brush against the warm softness of their neck as he ties the magatama into place. Even after he closes the buttons back up, the image of his accessory on them lingers in his mind—at least while he has enough space to think before Rairi's pulled the barrette from their hair and is clipping it to his collar. He doesn't even have the words to describe the sensation that rushes through him when their fingers tickle against his skin, and he swallows before getting a grip on himself.

This is a mission, and there's always the chance of dying on a mission. He cannot, cannot, cannot get distracted like this.

Discussing a plan eases the tension between the two of them, both focused on the situation at hand. There's enough time to share banter—and then Rairi and Kaigaku split up to get caught. The following battle is annoying thanks to the demon populating the area with fakes instead of owning up and fighting itself, but at least it gives Kaigaku a ready outlet to vent all the irritation that's been festering inside him since this stupid mission began.

It also gives Kaigaku an opportunity to watch Rairi in action.

As long as Kaigaku's known them, Rairi's always outclassed him in battle. Sure, Kaigaku has a bit more muscle to his advantage, but Rairi's a much more balanced all-rounder. They control the Thunder Breathing forms with precision, and they've become all the more graceful with in-field experience to refine their skill. Rairi dispatches the replica shells around them, their breathing measured and their instincts helping them choose the best moves as their braid flutters behind them, halfway unraveled.

Fighting beside them feels good, even if it's a reminder of all the room that Kaigaku still has to improve if he wants to surpass them. But there's the moment when they move in unison to score the kill, the grin and the happy cheer that Rairi has whenever the fight's over, and Kaigaku can't even care that he hasn't beat them yet.

This. This is why he would have been okay with it being the two of them as Sensei's successors, this almost feels like what Kaigaku's been chasing after for years, and he—

If he thinks about it, the mission is over now. If he thinks about it, it wouldn't matter if he got distracted.

Focus. Breathe. Priorities.

It's not a perfect aftermath by any means, and Kaigaku's head is throbbing from getting smacked around when he dived in to guard Rairi earlier, while Rairi's ankle that caused their slip up in the first place isn't in the best condition, either. When Rairi suggests it, Kaigaku considers just calling a Kakushi to take care of it, but—nope, that's not happening. It's not like he can't carry them, plus, without another mission to call him off elsewhere, he would have gone and rested at the closest Wisteria House anyways.

Except as he runs and piggybacks Rairi, he knows that's not the reason at all. What's the most annoying part is that he's not even surprised by this. Rairi has always been someone he's respected—for their dedication, for their skill, for their strength—but that's not all there is to it, is there? Otherwise, why would he care so much about what they think of him, why did he get so upset whenever they gave all their attention to Zenitsu, when they moved so close to the little shit under the peach trees? Like any of that was ever just about their compared skill at Thunder Breathing.

He does not groan out loud, though he wants to. Kaigaku has a general distaste for feelings of any kind. Feelings just made it hurt after everyone at the temple died. Feelings didn't keep him fed on the streets, didn't let him rise up to be in charge of the slums. Feelings didn't make him complete his training under Sensei, didn't get him through Final Selection, haven't kept him alive on his missions. He's been convinced this whole time that, if anything, it will be Rairi's compassion that will catch up to them and kill them, one way or another.

But Rairi's still here, their arms wrapped around his shoulders as Kaigaku carries them, and the closeness makes him feel warm, even as he dashes through the winter air. If feelings do make you weak, then why is Rairi still around? They're strong, and it's that thought alone that makes Kaigaku consider that this sensation squirming around in his chest might not be so bad. Rairi is strong enough that he shouldn't have to worry about them disappearing, about having to feel that anguish and despair all over again if they died.

His acceptance of his feelings forgets to account for the fact that there's still a chance that Rairi doesn't want anything to do with him, and the once again strained silence when they both stop to eat shows that possibility. It's beyond easy to get caught up in the rush of battle; outside of the mission, there's no reason for them to cooperate anymore, and Kaigaku should have just kept his stupid feelings trapped away under the protection of denial, because what's any of it matter if Rairi never wants to deal with him again?

But that's not how it is. Rairi breaks the silence, Rairi compliments his improvements, Rairi rises up to his challenge and displays their rank ahead of his, Rairi smiles and says, "You're doing a great job, Kaigaku. I'm proud to call you my kōhai, and I'm glad that you're my fellow successor."

Kaigaku thinks he can count the number of times he remembers blushing on one hand, but the blood rushes to his face, and the heat on his neck is uncomfortable under his uniform. Having Rairi tangle themself up in his choker cord and needing to extract them from the mess only makes it worse. He thought it before, but their skin is soft, their neck is enticing, and the lack of distance between him and them is overall excruciating. He remembers their barrette clipped to his jacket, and he pulls it free first because the idea of Rairi plucking it off themself is far too much to bear.

Whenever the thing turns out to be cracked, Kaigaku decides to get them a new one—though the two of them end up bickering again, and Kaigaku can't help but think it sure would be stupid if this is the topic that turns into the fight that rips their relationship apart—except Rairi ends up laughing, and Kaigaku's so frustrated by everything that he ends up snapping before he can control himself.

"To be honest, I was worried that you'd end up hating me," Rairi says as they explain, and Kaigaku's stunned. He's been worried that they might hate him—he's the one that picked a fight last time, after all. And it's almost enough for Kaigaku to laugh himself, because what he feels for Rairi couldn't be further from hate if he tried.

In some world out there, maybe Kaigaku could say it outright, because the feelings he's acknowledged now are so powerful that they make his chest start to ache. But all he can get out is "I…don't hate you," and talking just gets harder as Rairi undoes their braid, one link at a time, until their hair falls free, faint waves spilling over their shoulders. The sight renders Kaigaku speechless, because the growing light of the dawn highlights their hair, creates a sparkle in their eyes, makes them look even more elegant than he's ever seen them, and it's a wonder his heart hasn't burst with every new emotion coursing through it.

Kaigaku can't help but think in that moment what it would be like to kiss Rairi, to pull them close and to let the weight of every single bit of suffering over the past decade of his life melt away for a few moments. He doesn't do it, though; he's been in the vicinity of enough of Rairi's lectures aimed at Zenitsu to know better. Even if he wasn't the target of the instruction, Kaigaku is a fast learner. He doesn't have permission for that—but Rairi is comfortable with casual touches, and they won't protest if he takes their hand, and, maybe, if he asks—

"Rairi-senpai—"

"Rairi-kun!"

The voice brings with it a person, a Corps member with their teal hair cut short and a wave-patterned haori over their Corps uniform. Their smile is radiant—and so is the smile that breaks out on Rairi's face at the sight of them, like the warmth of morning washing over the world after a cold and dark night. "Shimizu-chan!" Rairi calls with a wave, and the joy in their voice is almost suffocating, as if their expression weren't telling enough. Kaigaku recognizes the name from Rairi's letters, and those letters did justice to Shimizu's appearance and general disposition.

What they didn't do justice to is how smitten Rairi is with her. Shimizu says something or another, and Rairi's laugh peals through the air in absolute joy. There's even a blush skimming over their cheeks, the kind that Kaigaku wants to pretend he's the cause for. It's uncertain whether Shimizu recognizes or shares Rairi's feelings. Kaigaku's tempted to say to hell with it and ask Rairi if they'd kiss him right then and there, just to show dominance. This woman may be part of the Demon Slayer Corps, may be part of the same "class" of Final Selection Candidates as Rairi, but Kaigaku's willing to bet he can take her in a fight.

What for? a voice in the back of his mind asks. You know how protective Rairi got of Zenitsu. You think they won't do the same for someone they like? You think they'll forgive you again if you dare to start something? And even if they did, would there be a point? Admit it: they've never looked at you like that, and they sure as hell won't if you fuck up here.

Nothing, and Kaigaku means nothing, has knocked the breath out of him this hard since the night that the demon made him choose, and the discrepancy between the two situations is so massive that it's laughable.

You've become weak.

(And Kaigaku needs to be strong.)

No, he tries to catch the thought, this isn't about weakness or not. All of Rairi's doting on Zenitsu shows that they don't care about such things—but Rairi's just about the only person that Kaigaku feels even somewhat inclined to trust with his vulnerability, and this Shimizu, friend of theirs (because he doesn't even want to think about what else she could become) or not, isn't someone he's going to allow himself to lose to whatsoever. So he piggybacks Rairi once more and maybe just a little tries to run fast enough to leave Shimizu in the dust.

It's a pointless endeavor, considering that they're all headed to the same place, but Kaigaku takes pride in the fact that outpaces Shimizu without even trying, even while carrying Rairi on his back. The Wisteria House lets them all in without trouble, the doctors present doing their thing. To be honest, Kaigaku's more than ready to just lie down in a futon and recover from the long night and the following emotional exhaustion—but also if he has to watch Rairi make that adoring expression any longer at Shimizu, he's going to fucking lose it, and snapping at her isn't going to earn him any points in Rairi's book. So he tells Rairi he has a mission to take care of, and then he doesn't have any other choice but to step off the Wisteria House's grounds and into the sunlight, trying to remember where the closest town is so he can find an inn to crash in.

"Liar, liar!" Momo caws from above, sounding far too joyful at the concept as she leads the way.

"Shut the fuck up, you stupid bird!"

[Author's Notes]

I have been waiting for literal months to share this interlude. Just ask beta Noiz. They know.

Thanks to rolearm,ILikeFoxes828, mgabbadon, Malqueen310, susaku312, APZ21230, gg (Guest), 365PumpsAMinute, AsuraNight, and rainybluee for the favorites, follows, and reviews! You're all as fabulous as ever. I really enjoy this chapter, and I'm curious about feedback, so I'd love if y'all dropped off a review so I can see your thoughts.

As you can guess, I have thoughts about Kaigaku's backstory. It is beyond infuriating to me that so many other demons get fleshed out stories, and Kaigaku we get scraps and pieces of. We don't even see his POV on what happened at the temple! Now, obviously, letting demon in bad, but the only indication we have of why is what the demon tells Himejima, and, yeah... I don't know if I trust that. Either way, though, these are my thoughts, and this version is my headcanon, so yeah.

Also I see a lot of people being like "Oh, Kaigaku was a bastard all the way back at the temple" but like? He's probably a small kid at that point so? Like it was ten years before canon, and, considering that the Gakuen bonuses put him as a third year, I don't think it's too out there to assume he's eighteen in canon, too? But, yeah, Kaigaku does bad things later, but judging him for shit he did when he was, like, eight, drives me up the wall. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk?

All that said, I'm gonna wrap up this author's note so I can go a-conning. I get to meet Aleks Le today, so that's cool. I'll try not to die from fangasming.

It's time for a Taishō Era Secret! The chapter title for the Kaigaku interludes comes from Fall Out Boy's "From Now on We Are Enemies," which was one of the first tracks I dumped into this story's playlist. It's not a one-hundred percent match with the lyrics, but it's got the right energy for the fic, so it's still a foundational part of the project.

While I didn't cover Kaigaku's life before the demon attack at the temple, I imagine he got left there when he was young, possibly too young to remember his parents. However, the magatama pendant was something he was left there with, so it's important to him, and he's kept it ever since.

Next Time: Interlude featuring gift buying, aftermath of rumors, and some poor alcohol decisions during the Hashira dinner. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[12.04.2021]