Sunshine spilled into the white hallways, the city glimmering behind the large, panoramic windows. Cruisers passed lazily like whales in the sky. The hospital stuff bustled energetically, and conversations, beeping, and the clank of equipment rose to the ceiling.

"Iced tea. We hope you enjoy your drink."

Shinobu took the plastic cup from the machine's slot and stepped aside. The surgeon behind her moved next in line; the young woman heard how he fumbled in the pocket of his lab coat for the tokens.

Sipping out of her cup, Shinobu walked alongside the windows. Her eyes trailed her own reflection thoughtfully in the glass. The sky was blue and bright, and the sun hopped off the skyscrapers. Her lips moved up softly. Summer was always so irresistible and cheerful.

Nodding to a doctor colleague passing by in the hallway, Shinobu paused next to one of the patient rooms. Not bothering to knock, the insect hashira pushed down on the handle and walked in.

"Good morning, everyone, how are you—"

"You cheater!"

Something flew into her face, and she ducked immediately. A cardboard box crashed above her head into the door. It exploded, and cards cascaded around Shinobu like butterflies.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so, so sorry!" Sitting criss-crossed on the bed, Mitsuri gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Laughing, Kyojuro looked over his shoulder.

"Are you okay, Kochou?"

"Bull's eye, Kanroji," Giyuu said gently, a hint of humor in his eyes. Shinobu chose to ignore his words.

"Practicing marksmanship?" She joked instead, carefully picking up a card that fluttered squarely on the top of her cup. Mitsuri waved her hands frantically and turned red.

"No, no, no, it's not like that," she pleaded.

"I'm just teasing," Shinobu chuckled, placing both the card and the cup on the counter. Walking over, she sat down next to Mitsuri and pointed at the man across from them.

"I'm sure you were the target, right?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kyojuro grinned. The female doctor only rolled her eyes at that and nodded towards his arm. It was snuggled in a simple sling.

"How's your arm?"

"Fine."

C'mon, he could do better than that. Noticing her expression, the young man blinked before breaking out in an earnest laughter.

"What, did you want to hear something different?"

"It's certainly not unwelcome," Shinobu admitted. "I hear about fifty fine's a day."

Kyojuro smirked, but shook his head, indicating that he had nothing to say. Shinobu sighed and leaned back on her arms. Placing her head on her friend's shoulder, Mitsuri curled around the insect hashira's elbow.

"I'm so restless," she gave a small smile. "Everyone's at work, so it's just three all the time. Shinobu felt the love hashira's hair brush down her shoulder as the young woman lifted slightly to turn back.

"Although Muichiro-kun came to visit today."

Shinobu glimpsed over her shoulder. Muichiro sat on the windowsill, face to the city and legs dangling down from the window. He was blowing bubbles out of the electronic cigarette that Genya had reassembled for him. When Mitsuri called out his name, it seemed to fly over his head.

Shinobu turned back around. Involuntarily, her gaze shifted towards Giyuu. He was stacking up the remaining cards on the rolling tray that had been left from breakfast and that the injured hashiras had dragged out conveniently in between the beds. Most of his face was covered in bandages.

Shinobu blinked and averted her eyes. She didn't want to stir her feelings in front of her colleagues.

Placing his healthy arm underneath his head, Kyojuro reclined down on the pillow and gazed at the ceiling.

"How's the outside world?" He asked out loud.

Shinobu smiled as if she didn't hear the sad longing in his voice. It was tragically twisted, she thought in the back of her head, how they can't enjoy their breaks anymore. An image of a chubby hamster running in a wheel after a piece of cheese flashed in her head.

"It's quiet." That was true. There was an influx of patients from the Lower Level, but everything else, the blood chamber, the winged former Upper Moon, the invisible hacker, disappeared as abruptly as they occurred.

Holding Mitsuri's hand, Shinobu glanced behind her and gestured to Muichiro.

"Do you have anything to add?"

Muichiro flicked the cigarette away and, turning around, hopped down on the floor. Almost immediately, he plopped on a swiveling stool and, giving it a strong push with his foot, spun in circles.

"No."

"GLOBUS, SECOND CHANNEL!" Without any warning, a media drone zoomed in through the open window and hovered in the center of the room. A hologram tumbled off its little screen, and a clamor of voices instantly stuffed the air.

"...Sako Chiyo, Noguchi Hisashi, Matsushita Akira of model Kon3, and today's guest, Ogino Kaori..."

"Is it the talk show led by that cyborg?" Kyojuro squinted his eyes, sitting up. "Sabo or Saibo, he had a pun in his name."

"How do you know all of this?" From her position, Mitsuri peeked at the drone in curiosity. "The last time Obanai and I legitimately watched TV was when the boxing world champs were going on in March."

"The TV's always on in my place," Kyojuro confessed. "Father likes it."

Eyeing the drone, Shinobu tried to remember the last time she watched anything. It was so long ago.

"Really?" Mitsuri mumbled, still watching the drone. "Let's make it louder."

Giyuu reached over obediently and pressed the button on the drone's side. The muffled voices gradually strengthened in volume.

"... I have to disagree, Matsushita-san, the demon slayers were more than capable of neutralizing the demon. He spent his time in daylight for nearly twelve hours, when he's the most vulnerable, and if they weren't able to take advantage of that..."

"Forgive me, Ogino-san, but we all saw how the city aided, so to speak, the demon slayers. The amount of false alarms to the times when it actually appeared was ten to one..."

"Don't they have the Crows for that? Those were given special access to the city's security system..."

"If there was an outside force tampering with them..."

"Are you implying the existence of a hacker? You think there's someone skilled enough to crack the government's surveillance network?"

"What outside force? Demons work alone."

Shinobu felt Mitsuri's fingers squeeze her arm. She herself felt uneasy and flustered, each word hammered her down to the bed. This wasn't the first accusation about their incompetence, and they've learned to filter it out more or less. However... with difficulty, Shinobu forced herself to slant her eyes.

Mitsuri was trembling slightly, unable to look away. Kyojuro was gripping the sheets with uncharacteristic force, and thousands of emotions flickered across his face. Giyuu's expression was completely unreadable.

"... we cannot discount that the people are terrified right now. The demon was never beheaded, right? What if something similar happens again?"

"There's a concerning tendency of demons becoming bolder. Just over a month ago, the electric company suffered a demonic attack in the middle of the day . And with this one, the entire Lower Level went loose..."

Muichiro spun on the stool, eyes locked on the drone. Without disturbing the rotation, he carefully leaned back and poised his leg.

"... if you look at the polls, the current approval rate for the corps is—EEEEEEKKK!"

There was a loud crash when Muichiro kicked the drone straight in the eye. The force of the impact thrust the drone across the room, through the window, and several meters outside. The drone wobbled clumsily in the air, the entire front smashed into a mess. For several moments, Muichiro watched it hobble away into the distance, before turning around to the stunned hashiras.

"Don't listen to those chatterboxes," he said simply. "You shouldn't be focusing on them."

The boy pointed at Mitsuri. "You need to rest."

"You especially," he added, moving his finger to Kyojuro. He looked at Giyuu.

"And you need plastic surgery."

An entire minute passed.

Giyuu blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Mitsuri snorted and collapsed in giggles. Hand on his forehead, Kyojuro laughed as well. Shinobu breathed out, tension leaving her shoulders. Leave it to Muichiro to discharge the situation. She smirked and stood up. Mitsuri stopped laughing and grabbed her by the arm.

"Where are you going?" She asked in worry.

"We are going," Shinobu corrected her. "Oxygen replenishment."

Mitsuri immediately relaxed. Kyojuro stretched his arm and cracked his neck.

"Finally. The only good part," he joked.

Giyuu was already squatting next to the beds and taking out two folded wheelchairs from underneath. Standing up, he leaned over to Mitsuri.

"Ready?"

The love hashira blushed when he took her up nonchalantly in his arms and glanced apologetically at the female doctor. Laughter bubbling in her throat, Shinobu shook her head. Mitsu spent way too much time with a partner who would burn anyone displaying physical contact towards her.

She and Giyuu helped Kyojuro together. All this time, Muichiro watched them, eyes widening in amusement. When Kyojuro sighed in exaggeration as he lowered into the wheelchair, the mist hashira even gave a small giggle, hand covering his mouth. The boy hopped up enthusiastically behind the man's wheelchair and pushed him forward.

"Can I, Shinobu-san?" He gave another push. Kyojuro laughed, glancing over his shoulder.

"Shouldn't you be asking me instead?"

The latter stared blankly at the older hashira.

"She's the doctor, not you."

"Tokito-kun, it's alright." Shinobu answered distractedly as she adjusted the height in Mitsuri's wheelchair. For some reason, the lever was jammed. "Just remember that hallways aren't track lanes and that the speed limit is four kilometers per hour."

Muichiro tilted his head, lips pursing in thought, and he seemed weighing options in his head. Shinobu stopped what she was doing and looked at the boy.

"Muichiro, you have three tickets already. The next one will get you suspended."

"Those are real tickets—"

"Doesn't matter." The lever jerked in her palm, and Shinobu carefully lowered the seat of the wheelchair. "Comfortable, Mitsuri-san?"

"Yup. Thank you."

Satisfied, Shinobu straightened out and looked forward. Giyuu was already at the door, holding it open. His eyes met momentarily, but she averted her gaze.

The center of the Kaunan District was a spacious, far-reaching courtyard created for patient excursions. Boulevards zigzagged around the flower beds, and small fountains tinkled down in wide streams next to the pebbled floor. Aided by robot nurses, patients walked around, enjoying the fresh air and the sunlight.

In the middle of the courtyard was a large, hanging installation of house-like cubicles stacked on top of each other. Shadows shivered on the window blinds as someone occasionally ran by inside, and a buzz-like commotion rang from the open door: it was the orphanage.

Kyojuro and Muichiro paused several meters behind them when the mist hashira noticed a caterpillar on one of the leaves. The man didn't complain and easily went along with the boy's wishes.

One hand on the wheelchair's handle, the other in her pocket, Shinobu gazed silently at the two. It was curious to see how they found a common language despite the difference in age and attitude.

The wind strengthened, but her hair remained tightly clipped in the bun on her head. Shinobu turned away and glanced at Mitsuri.

Her friend was leaning slightly forward in the wheelchair and scattering dry crumbs into the pond. Orange, veil-tailed fish circled in the dark water, and their nibbling mouths created ripples along the surface.

"How are your goldfish doing?"

Shinobu jolted slightly from suddenness. She didn't expect that Mitsuri would speak, given that she was so absorbed in her activity. Even now, the love hashira wasn't looking at her.

"They're okay." Shinobu gave away her goldfish to Aoi after one of them died from unintentional neglect. The last she heard from the girl was that they were fat, lazy, and terrified of Inosuke. Mitsuri chuckled.

"You're so serious."

Shinobu smiled in defeat. "Maybe."

Mitsuri clapped her hands sideways against each other, and the crumps drizzled into the water.

"Alrightie. Where can I get more crumbs?" She asked, looking over her shoulder and giving the doctor a beaming smile.

"There should be a machine giving them out somewhere." Shinobu turned away and pressed her hand to her forehead. She scanned the surroundings; there were several patients resting on the benches, as well as a robot trotting around and passing out water. Shinobu's eyes lingered on Giyuu, standing a little away from them and looking at the sky, before moving on to the red machine on the side of the boulevard.

"There." What in the world was he looking at? "Next to the maple tree."

Shinobu lowered her hand and turned to Mitsuri.

"How much do you need?"

Mitsuri snorted and pushed the wheels. "It's close, I'll get it myself. Be right back."

Shinobu followed the trundling wheelchair with her eyes. When the love hashira stopped next to the line that had formed next to the machine, she turned around and waved. The female doctor's features softened, and Shinobu gave a small, but genuine wave back. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Mitsuri's sanguineness… was truly contagious.

Sliding her hand into her pocket, Shinobu turned around and looked again at Giyuu. His suit jacket was thrown over the hospital garb, and it flapped around his shoulders when there was an especially strong gust of the summer wind. The strands of hair poking out of the bandages that wrapped around his head swayed slightly.

Shinobu walked up to him quietly. Even though they agreed to keep some form of distance, she was tired. She wanted to hold a conversation for once with someone who knew all her secrets.

She stopped next to him and tilted her head. Silent, Giyuu continued looking at the sky. Her eyes slanted upwards. Clouds. Her eyes dropped back down, and Shinobu couldn't help the soft smirk forming on her lips.

"What an airhead," she whispered with a gentle tease in her voice. Giyuu moved his shoulder, acknowledging her. His eyes flickered to her side, but before she could look into them, his gaze was focused back on the sky. A low chuckle escaped her throat, and she reached out with her arm to poke him in the arm.

"You sure don't change your hermit attit—" the suit jacket and empty pajama sleeve underneath gave way under her fingers until they hit the side of his ribs. Shinobu froze, mortified by her blunder. A moment later, he shifted next to her, and his warm, left hand clasped around her fingertips.

Giyuu gazed silently down at her. Nervousness blocked her breathing. With difficulty, Shinobu swallowed, and a tremble raced several times down her body. She could hear the blood thumping in her temples.

The bandages cut the corners of his lips as he smiled slightly. His fingers wiggled in between hers, before closing tenderly on her knuckles. Giyuu tilted his head slightly, and his eyes softened in understanding.

It stung in her nose. Face threatening to contort from emotion, Shinobu clenched her free hand. Her chest was extremely tight, and her mind seemed to be in a panic attack. What was he trying to imply? The question rang in her head, but all she could do was gaze at him.

Laughter cut like a knife through the air. The door banged open, and thousands of young, high voices filled the courtyard at once.

Not caring for the patients, the hospital rules, propriety, or the rest of the world, the orphans flooded the boulevards. They hopped over each other's backs, hid behind benches in a game of tag, and tackled the staff robots.

"Shinobu-san!" Laughing, a four-year old boy ran right towards her. Shinobu felt all her worries unravel as if they were thread on a spindle. She slipped her hand out of Giyuu's and, taking several steps forward, outstretched her arms.

"Come here, Koichi-kun!"

With a delightful squeal, the boy jumped into her arms. Smiling, Shinobu picked him up, and he immediately smooched her in the cheek. Immediately, two other kids skidded in their tracks and glared at Koichi.

"Hey, that's not fair!" A girl, probably no older than seven, raced up to them and hugged Shinobu by the leg. "Why do you get to sit in Shinobu-san's arms?"

"I want to give Shinobu-san a kiss toooo!" Another boy whined, tugging the doctor by the coat.

"C'mon, you pipsqueaks, don't you know what sharing means?" Dribbling a basketball, a twelve-year old walked up to them. He grinned, revealing the gum stretching over his teeth. "Hello, Kochou-san."

"Hello, Hajime-kun," Shinobu squinted her eyes in a mischievous manner. "Do you want to sit in my arms too?"

The little girl's eyes lit up in amazement. "Hajime wants to sit in Shinobu-san's arms?"

"That's so funny!" The boy giggled, bunching the young woman's coat into a fist. Hajime's face turned red as a tomato, and he smacked the boy on the back of his head.

"Shut up!"

Everyone laughed. More children started to crowd around the doctor, asking to play, pick them up, or simply sneaking little goodies into her pockets. Shinobu only laughed back, trying to hear out specific voices from the clamor attacking her. For a moment, she allowed herself to let loose.

"Oh look!" A girl with whipped-up braids squeaked suddenly. She pointed. "It's a mummy!"

Shinobu turned around in surprise to look where the girl was gesturing.

Giyuu stood several feet away from them. At the girl's exclamation, he tilted his head slightly and gave the faintest of smiles. The girl gasped and hid behind Shinobu's back. The other children weren't as timid.

"A mummy, a mummy!" A five-year old boy abandoned the doctor and zoomed straight to the water hashira. He skidded in front of Giyuu and placed his fists on his hips. He squinted his eyes professionally.

"Hey, mummy-san, can you see me?" The boy asked suspiciously. The young man looked down at him before nodding, slowly.

"Yes."

The boy smirked, before suddenly losing all his pompous demeanor, and stretching out a hand.

"I'm Igarashi Will. I'm half American," he said proudly. Giyuu crouched down carefully.

"Tomioka Giyuu." He shook Will's hand. Seeing that the mummy was not as scary as he seemed, more kids began running over to Giyuu. The water hashira remained crouching, allowing little hands to touch his hair and bandages. Several boys hugged him around his neck from behind, climbing his shoulders, while others showcased their oxygen masks, broken wheels, and anything else they could salvage from the hospital. Slightly propping the ones climbing the back with his arm, Giyuu listened to everyone with genuine interest.

Shinobu observed him, and the lightness inside her chest sank slowly.

Someone poked her in the cheek, and Shinobu turned her head to look at Koichi. The boy's eyebrows were wrinkled in a funny frown.

"Shinobu-san, are you sad?"

Shinobu shook her head and turned her back towards Giyuu. What was done is done, and there was no space for regrets.

"No." The wind strengthened, adding a chill to the summer warmth. "I'm not sad."


Blasting at a specific angle, the sun roasted his temple, but the demon slayer didn't move from the windowsill. Eyebrows arched, Genya watched with mild curiosity how the little kids tumble around the insect and water hashiras.

The room was poorly lit. There were fourteen beds, seven against each wall, all empty. The night tables in between them were unadorned with anything.

He immediately heard the sliding of the door down the frame. Genya didn't react to that, didn't even brace his body, only slanted his eyes in the direction of the sound.

"What is it?"

"You're one fucked up jerk, Shinazugawa." Hands in pockets, a young man about his age walked into the room. He was gaunt and stooping, and his eyes had a grim glint in them.

"Your aniki wants you back. So why the hell are you here?"

"You and I are the only ones assigned to this room." Even though he knew exactly what Soga was implying, Genya had no desire to expand the topic."I don't see any spatial constraints with me staying here."

Soga narrowed his eyes. Wordlessly, he walked around the beds and sat down on the windowsill across from the demon slayer.

"It's not about space, Shinazugawa. You're a pain in the ass, that's why."

"Screw off," Genya grimaced. He wasn't in the mood to listen to Soga's dark remarks. "If you got anything else to say, blurt it out and piss off."

Soga watched him for a second, before turning away and looking out the window. He watched the children running around without any amusement on his face.

"Yuki's beat up."

Genya jolted from suddenness and looked wide-eyed at the man across from him. He didn't expect that.

"What?"

Wordlessly, Soga slid off the windowsill. His slippers hit the floor with a low squash.

"Let's go," he motioned jerkedly with his shoulder. "He's with Mimarin."

Grabbing the jacket off his bed, Genya followed Soga out of the room.

The hallways were empty. Muted sounds came from above and below. The two young adults walked in complete silence down the corridor, up the walls, and along the ceiling as the cubic architecture of the orphanage twisted along the axes.

Jumping down from the ceiling, Soga landed all the way on his knees. Standing up, he opened the door leading to the kitchen. Genya grabbed it, correctly predicting that the other man wouldn't bother holding out the door for him.

Plates stacked in the sink. Single water droplets dripped slowly from the faucet, creating a hollow, echoing ring.

A young man, around eighteen years old, sat stiffly in a chair. His forehead was shattered, and one eye was closed. A young woman was silently pressing a cotton ball to his face. Beads of blood shivered on its thin, web-like fluff.

When Soga and Genya walked in, she looked up. She smirked quietly.

"If there's anything going for you, it's your timing… Gen-chan."

"What happened?" Genya said bluntly, squatting down next to the chair. Raising his hand, he snapped his fingers in front of Yuki's face. "Oi, Yuk-kun, look at me."

The iris in the open eye did not move. An uncomfortable foreboding stirred inside Genya's stomach. Outwardly, however, he scoffed and, lowering his hand, jerked Yuki roughly by the knee.

"Don't go shitting me, Yuk-kun, at least make a noise or something."

"They've hit him on the head." Genya glanced over his shoulder at Soga. He was rummaging through the cabinets. "A brick or a pipe, I've got no idea." The young man yanked out a soup pot from the cupboard and turned over to Mimarin.

"Will this do?"

"Yeah, it's good enough." Mimarin sighed and tossed the cotton ball away. Leaning against the counter, she crossed her arms and squeezed her hands tightly underneath her armpits.

"It's those jerks," she winced. "Yuki was bartering some crap down below... they rolled up to him, obviously... he refused to give up the goods, and you can see the rest for yourself."

Genya listened to her wordlessly, not taking his eyes off the limp man. In a delayed motion, he reached out and rubbed the collar of Yuki's checkered shirt. The blood crust crumbled under his fingers, and he carefully brushed it off the soft fabric.

"You want me to beat them up, right?"

Mimarin didn't answer. Soga was also silent, the water splashing in the pot as he filled it up.

Genya stood up and started towards the exit. "No big deal, I'll do it. Out of us four, I have the most chances taking all of them down." Halfway through the door frame, he stopped and smirked. "But really, Yuki's an idiot for picking a fight when he's so scrawny."

"He was never bright to begin with," Soga noticed quietly, looking down at the pot. His reflection rippled across the water. Genya stared at the opposite wall. His fingers twitched, and for a moment, it seemed as if they'd clench into a fist. The next second, they relaxed.

"True." Without another word, Genya walked out of the kitchen. He banged the door on his way out.

Anger mixed with pain flared inside his chest. Gritting his teeth, Genya wrenched his arm through the sleeves of the jacket. They're using him again, that Soga and Mimarin. It began ever since he got on good terms with his brother. Genya knew that they were fueled by nothing bigger than jealousy and bitterness; they themselves had no family left, and Heiwajima's love wasn't enough because Heiwajima loved everybody. He really shouldn't be paying attention to details as small as this...

Several little kids crashed into his knees.

"Fucking watch your way!" Genya barked, dodging at the last second. The kids, terrified, dashed to the side and sprinted past him.

... but their attitude pissed him off, Yuki included. But Yuki was dumb as a rock and couldn't hold a grudge for too long.

Genya slammed open the back door of the orphanage. He ran down the courtyard boulevard and into the hospital halls. Disregarding the red sign, he pushed straight through the emergency exit and jogged down the stairs.

The distance he had to cover was seventy flights, but it meant nothing to him. Genya hissed, getting a better control of his breath as he skipped five steps at once. It should mean nothing to him.

Tripping slightly when he skidded out to the last floor, but regaining balance almost immediately after, the young man shoved the handle of the wide, metal doors and tumbled outside. The familiar stench of smoke and chemicals filled his lungs. Genya straightened out and fixed his jacket. A small shoot of pleasure burst through him that he didn't even perspire, but he quickly suppressed that guilty emotion.

Two cyborgs sat on overturned crates. Their med coats were dirty and crumpled; one cyborg had a respirator. It was missing a filter canister.

"Yo, kid," the cyborg frowned. Small needle pricks peppered the line from his elbow to his wrist. "Got a smoke?"

"Where's Niyaniya?" Genya asked quietly, taking out a lighter from his back pocket. The cyborg tilted his head, positioning his joint up to the flame. The other one leaned wordlessly on his friend's shoulder to smoke off.

"Should be three blocks up ahead," the cyborg exhaled slowly, savoring the taste. "They're hanging out at the garages recently."

Without thanking him, Genya turned around and walked down the alley.

Synthetics sloshed out of the pipes, collecting in viscous, shimmering puddles. The air stung of rusting metal and expired antiseptics. Shattered prescription bottles lay on the concrete.

An automatic stretcher drove in circles, a light blinking erratically on its handle. Walking past it, Genya kicked it roughly against the wall. It crumpled from the inside, and its wheels spun for a long time before coming to a stop.

They must know that I'm coming, Genya thought, eyes slanting to the side. A mattress from one of the medical beds lay in the alley. Its belly was ripped open, and feathers soaked in the filthy puddles. It was always an eye-for-eye thing. The demon slayer stepped over crackling wires and turned around the corner.

A circular clearing spread out in front of him. Garages adorned the entire perimeter. Genya stopped and squinted.

Some orphans stood on top of the garages. Others sat, legs swinging from the edge. A young man around Genya's age stood in the center of the clearing. A scar ran from one cheekbone through his lips and up to the opposite cheekbone.

"Look who's here."

Instead of replying, Genya took out an e-cig and placed it in his mouth. He sucked on the tube, but no smoke came out. The battery was depleted.

"You haven't been here in the past month. What happened?"

"Quit playing stupid, grin-mug." The cigarette bobbed between his lips. "I ain't friends with you to come on weekend visits."

The wind blew through the clearing, and Niyaniya's blond hair swayed around his temples.

"That's a shame. You were good at stealing opiates, better than your friends. Did you finally start feeling guilty for duping Mister Giant?"

Genya spat the cigarette on the ground and glared at Niyaniya. Despise and shame scratched nervously at his consciousness, but he threw them aside. He didn't have time for this.

"I didn't come here to rub tongues with you, grin-mug," he snarled. "I'm here about what you did with Yuki."

"So what about Yuki?" Niyaniya raised an eyebrow. "You're not part of them anymore."

Genya clenched his teeth. Part of him agreed with the young man, but he silenced it immediately.

"That ain't your business. You should be more concerned about being reduced into pulp right now."

Niyaniya squinted at him, before scoffing with a hint of hilarity in his voice.

"How pathetic," he noticed softly, taking his hands out of his pockets. Genya didn't wait for an invitation.

He felt Niyaniya's nose squishing against his knuckles, but in the next moment, the young man twisted on his ankle and dodged the blow. As if on cue, the people leaped off the garage roofs. With lightning speed, Genya pulled out the guns from underneath his belt and aimed. He didn't bother replacing the magazine with paralyzers.

The skin exploded at their hips as the bullets sliced through. Genya skidded off his place, and the blood splattered onto the concrete where he was moments ago. The wound was shallow to prevent them bleeding out - provided they'd withdraw. Tossing the gun in his right hand to his left, Genya lowered his fist onto one of the attacker's head. He knew they'd withdraw.

"Genya, you shit." The demon slayer ducked down, avoiding the leg that split the air above his head. He somersaulted backwards and, landing firmly on his knees, lifted both the guns on the grin-slashed man.

"You're playing fucking dirty," Niyaniya growled, wiping the blood trickling under his nose. The orphans around him stilled, hovering menacingly but not daring to take a step towards the demon slayer.

"Sorry, bad habits," Genya retorted dryly. "I don't play fair with demons either."

His index fingers curled slightly around the triggers.

Before, fights like this were exhilarating. The orphans from the hospital against orphans from the slums. Hatred spilled from their mouths like teeth when they knocked each other in the jaw, contempt blazed in their eyes, and their mutual massacres were rich and succulent. It was primitive and animalistic, and he loved wallowing in it.

Niyaniya darted forward. Genya pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Until he started living with his brother.

The two blasted fingers whirled up into the air like firecrackers. Blood gushed onto the ground, peppering Niyaniya's boot. The man let out a guttural, suppressed howl and dropped down on his knees.

"Shit." Niyaniya hissed, face contorting in agony. "Ah, fuck."

Genya gazed at him coldly, guns still aimed for his head. He wanted to get this over with, and maiming was the quickest way. Two fingers should do the job. After all, humans don't regenerate.

"I guess you have a point…" Sweat dripped from Niyaniya's forehead, but he was smiling with his mouth open. Genya frowned. Something smelled off, different from the typical chemicals and dirt. His eyes raced across the clearing, trying to find the source of the stench. Niyaniya continued breathing loudly, eyes bulging on the ground.

"Well, those were your words, not mine."

Genya's gaze stopped on the wounded man several meters away from him. The injured hand was resting on his knee, blood streaming down the stumps.

Two rapidly elongating stumps, muscles and veins wrapping around the bones as they grew back into fingers.

"Fucking hell!" Genya slammed down the trigger, but Niyaniya already leaped off his spot, and the bullets struck the orphans behind him. Genya jumped up in panic and, swiveling at an angle to avoid Niyaniya's blow, poised the guns. This time, he was pointing them at the man's face.

Suddenly, a loud whistle broke through the clearing. A teen ran across the garage rooftops and, skidding down on his knees, leaned over the edge.

"Chief, danger! Cop patrol!"

Niyaniya immediately staggered back. The orphans behind him dashed all in different directions. Cocking his guns, Genya pivoted around and raced into the closest alley he saw.

When the black and white drone drifted excruciatingly noiselessly into the clearing, it was completely empty. Crates were overturned. Torn canvases swayed over the garage rooftops.

Several blocks away, Genya pressed his back against the wall. His chest was moving heavily up and down, but his mouth was closed, shutting off any unnecessary sounds of his breathing. His hands clutched the grip of the guns with unusual force.

In front of his eyes, a human regenerated two of his limbs like a regular, commonplace demon.


"Nezuko? Nezuko, open up!"

Tanjiro knocked miserably on the wooden door and paused. Not a sound came from the box. The young man sighed and glanced down at the watch lying on the floor. That was the only time Nezuko had peeked out of her box during her week-long seclusion: to toss out her watch to prevent Sabito from infiltrating her thoughts. Before, she seemed to tolerate Tanjiro's nonstop text messages, but sending the AutCo turned out to be the last straw. And, of course, she was much nimbler than Tanjiro, and before he could wedge in his hand or a tablet, she shut the door into his face.

Currently, the watch was switched off. Sabito was surfing the cyber dimension; he was atypically busy these last few days, and it was harder to catch him.

"Nezuko! C'mon, I know you're not sleeping." Tanjiro slouched his back against the door. Stretching out his feet, he threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. Despite the strong demonic scent clouding around her, he could clearly smell her jitteriness. It diminished into a nervous haze periodically - Tanjiro guessed those were the moments when his sister sincerely dozed off. But most of the time…

"Nezuko," Tanjiro said softly, turning his head closer to the crease in the door so that she could hear his voice. "What happened?"

Inside the box, Nezuko snuggled deeper into her knees, until only her nose glimpsed from underneath her folded arms. She knew she was being more than obvious, but she couldn't face her brother; seeing him would burn her up on the spot.

The scene replayed once again in front of her eyes. When she first saw a demon instead of the comatose boy, she had thought that the latter was devoured. Only a second later did she realize that there was no human to begin with.

Nezuko?

Nezuko clapped her hands over her ears. A barely perceptible, high-pitched whimper escaped her lips as she tried to push the memory out of her head.

What should she do?

The moment Rubikku called her name, that question crashed in front of her. Not having an answer, she fled. Or rather—

Nezuko trembled, digging her nails into her hair. She was a demon, but what difference did it make? She sided with humans all the time; besides, she never regarded herself as anything other than human.

Suddenly, the young woman froze; she heard Tanjiro shifting outside. Judging by the shadows, he was leaning right close to the creak. Trying not to make a sound, Nezuko lowered her hands.

What should she do?

The dark red eyes gazed back at her from the darkness.

Tanjiro jolted slightly when he heard a thump on the other side; Nezuko dropped her head against the wall of the box.

"Nezuko?" He tried again carefully.

It's been seven days. There was no point in sitting any longer.

After a minute of silence, Tanjiro heard how his sister scratched quietly against the latch. Not believing this was happening, the young demon slayer hastily scrambled out of the way. The door swung slowly open, and Nezuko, about forty centimeters shorter, stepped out. Her legs and body immediately grew back to their nineteen-year old selves as she straightened out.

"Nezuko," Tanjiro said carefully, trying to catch his sister's gaze. She picked up her watch silently and strapped it around her wrist. For a few moments, she stood with her back towards him, before slowly typing something into her watch. His screen blinked, and Tanjiro looked down at her message.

... I had a bad day... days. I don't want to talk about it. Is... is that okay?

Tanjiro stared at the text. It was the first time Nezuko did something like that. Uncertainty billowed like a wave, but he forced himself to calm down. She was nineteen years old. She must have her own reasons.

"The next episode of Kvoa is airing in ten minutes." His features softened. "Want to see it with me?"

She truly had the best brother in the world.

Nezuko turned around and squinted her eyes, mimicking a smile that he couldn't see because of the muzzle.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Lounging on the pillows, she and Tanjiro watched the TV. Nezuko felt that he was not really paying attention, taking in the moving images without registering them, but didn't dare switch the topic. In mutual agreement, they watched the cooking show that played after. In the middle of it, Tanjiro went to the kitchen to find something chewable. Lying belly flat on the pillow, Nezuko stared at the screen and sensed with acute awareness that her brother was taking far too long. Her fingers tightened around the ends of the pillow.

It was six o'clock. They switched off the TV a while ago. Sprawled over the pillows, Nezuko scrolled aimlessly through her watch. It was a waste of time, but it distracted her somewhat. A mug of tea in his hand, Tanjiro stood next to the window and gazed at the passing traffic.

"I'll be heading out."

Nezuko lowered her hand in surprise and lifted on her elbow.

Heading out? Where?

Fear rippled through her, and she nearly coughed on her breath. Did he suspect something?

Tanjiro looked over his shoulder.

"I've been helping in the reconstruction efforts of the Lower Level." His look became somewhat reproachful. "I've been telling you that every single time. Did you not listen to me when you were in the box?"

A pillow landed on his face. Whirling around, Nezuko buried her face into her pillow, pretending to pout, even though she was actually relieved. She heard her brother laugh. The mats squeaked under his feet as he walked over.

" Now you're angry?" He shook her gently by the shoulder. Nezuko refused to look up, but the tiniest of smiles appeared at the corner of her lips. Tanjiro kissed her on the hair, then stood up and took his coat off the hanger.

"I'll be back in about three hours. So like a typical patrol but without the demons."

The last word stirred something uncomfortable in Nezuko. Out loud, however, she hummed something indistinct.

"Later!"

Head buried in the pillows, Nezuko lifted her arm as a goodbye gesture. She heard the jacket ruffle as her brother returned the gesture. The front door banged shut, and the room lapsed into silence.

Cautious, Nezuko raised her head. The emptiness was unnerving. It reminded her of an outstretched hand, waiting for her to take it.

It wasn't benevolent.

Nezuko bit the straps with her fangs. The acute awareness that this was her chance to sneak out paralyzed her. The young girl swallowed with difficulty and forced herself to stand up. She didn't even have a clear idea of why she was doing this, but the idea already programmed itself into her brain.

On numb legs, Nezuko walked up to the window in their bedroom. If she walked out the front door, Tanjiro would detect her scent on the doorknob. Her hands shook as they shoved the window frame upwards. If she wanted to confuse her path... of course, she could always lie that she went to her delivery work... but he was already suspicious...

The wind scraped her cheekbones, the cold current burning against her heated face. Wide-eyed, Nezuko stared down at the skyscrapers dropping abruptly into the abyss. Her knees bumped against each other, shuddering in hysteric fright. She had no idea how she did this with Sabito.

Relax. Nezuko forced herself to tear her eyes away from the precipice. She dug her heels into the frame, and the muscles in her leg flexed with an unwieldy spring. You're a demon. You won't die even if your head is smeared all over the concrete.

The self-hypnosis made her shake even more. Knowing that she'll lose it at any moment, Nezuko inhaled and leaped out of her window.

The resulting jump was scared and clumsy. Breath knocked out of her chest, Nezuko landed on her side. Pain flared through her ribs and knees as the concrete tore off her skin. Holding back the tears, the young demon girl stood up and limped down the alley. Slowly, as her body healed, her stagger easened into a jog before breaking into a sprint.

People dashed away from her, robots zoomed off with a shrill. The construction vehicles blinded her with their orange lights, shooing her away from obstruction zones, and beeping rang through the air. Warm steam blasted off the pipes, clogging her lungs, but the muzzle prevented her from taking a proper breath. She didn't bother putting on shoes, and now her feet were black with rocks and glass stuck in the skin.

Nezuko tumbled down the staircase and collapsed down on the cool asphalt of the lowest level. Her heart was thumping like crazy in her chest, but she didn't allow herself respite. Lunging forcefully upward, Nezuko sprang up to her feet.

The blue fog hovered, like usual, around the abandoned buildings. Murmurings and slurps were heard in the background, and demonic stench hung in the air.

Rubbing her arm, Nezuko walked hesitantly down the pebbled ground. Something about her destination made everything look different. In a jerking motion, the demon girl passed her hand across her face. Taking it off, she saw that it was damp from sweat.

Relax. Her toes curled from the chill as she walked down the alley. The neon light bulb flickered above her head. He can't possibly do anything to you.

Nezuko saw the familiar corner, and everything inside her froze from fright.

Her shadow drifted along the wall and shattered window cases. Nezuko pinched her skin, trying to squelch the shaking. It was unreasonable. Regardless of anything, Rubikku was their friend.

Her hand wrapped around the door handle. So what if he was a demon? So was she.

Nezuko pushed open the door and walked inside.

A second later, she breathed out in relief. The room was empty.

Not closing the door all the way, Nezuko stepped carefully among the aquariums. Her eyes lingered on the fish swirling lazily in some of the bowls. They weren't there before. That meant he continued to head out.

Nezuko looked away at the corner of the room.

The long hands of the robot were folded neatly on his lap. The kimono was still on him, but the hat was missing. The metal lids were dropped over the glass eyeballs, casting the impression that he was asleep.

Nezuko crouched in front of the robot. Reaching out slowly with her hand, the demon girl hooked her finger underneath the lid and gently pushed it upwards. The eyes were dark and lifeless.

"What are you doing here?"

Nezuko jerked, and the eyelid slammed down on her finger. She yanked it out, simultaneously whirling around on her toes, but underestimated the force; losing her balance, she toppled back on the robot, and her back hit against the metal chest.

Nezuko stared in fright at the demon in the entrance. She swallowed unevenly. Her mind searched frantically for words, but there was only a terrifying void. Her legs, digging into the opposite walls of the corner, trembled from the strain.

Netted bowls tossed over his shoulder, Rubikku gazed wordlessly at her. His eyebrow was slightly arched, and bloody red eyes gave off a cautious, cold glow. Pressing her sweaty hands into the wall, Nezuko didn't dare look away. I'm going to slip, she realized with growing horror. Even though Rubikku wasn't doing anything suspicious, looking vulnerable was the last thing she wanted to happen.

The demon broke the gaze and, stepping over the bowls, shoved one of the aquarium lids with his foot. The lid slid off and fell on the floor with a dull thump.

"Try to be careful, okay?" Rubikku said nonchalantly, lowering the nets into the aquarium. Nezuko nodded feverishly; she wasn't sure if the demon was referring to her precarious position or the possibility of her breaking either the bowls or the robot. The fish wiggled out of the net, and droplets splattered on the young demon's face.

Letting the nets droop halfway in the aquarium, Rubikku straightened out. The hat struck him lightly on the back as he walked in her direction. Nezuko inhaled deeply, pressing her arms into the walls and trying to look as small as possible.

Wiping the water off his face with the backside of his hand, Rubikku stopped and looked at her from top to bottom. Gliding slowly but gradually, Nezuko stared at him. A simple, weak thought swirled somewhere in the recesses of her mind, before extinguishing feebly.

I hope he doesn't notice how afraid I am of him.

Rubikku outstretched his arm. Nezuko took it automatically. She immediately lost balance, but the demon pulled her up silently to her feet.

Without another word, Rubikku released her hand. Turning away, he sat down on top of one of the aquariums. Nezuko remained standing. All her muscles were shaking slightly from the pressure they experienced a moment ago, but that didn't matter.

"What are you doing here?" The question was the same, but his voice was quieter than before. Nezuko felt her throat clasp dry and didn't answer. She didn't know. Rubikku glanced at her, and Nezuko felt her feet glue to the floor.

"Did you tell Tanjiro about me?"

Nezuko shook her head quickly. Rubikku nodded slightly at those words and lowered his gaze. His shoulders rose faintly, and, wrapping his right arm with his left hand, he looked away.

If a demon slayer were here, he would execute him. She represented the demon slayers. Nezuko stared unmovingly at the lanky figure several steps away from her.

Do you... do you know other demons?

She should at least find out whether he presents a threat or not. If he wasn't acquainted with anyone, then she could let him go... maybe...

Her heart seemed to stop when the red eyes traveled right to left as they read the hologram her watch projected. With stifled nervousness, Nezuko watched the small fluctuations in the demon's expression. She had no idea how to interpret them.

Rubikku glimpsed up at her.

"I know some. I don't tell them anything, though."

Nezuko squeezed her arm, subduing the shaking. What?

Rubikku continued looking at her with piercing eyes. "I don't reveal what you guys tell me."

Nezuko felt that she was blanking out. She gritted her teeth, frustrated at her weakness. Why, why exactly now? What do you mean by everything?

"Missions. Patrol locations. Patrol times. Their blood types."

Why should I believe you?

"Tanjiro is still alive, right?"

The fish splashed loudly inside the aquarium. Nezuko's eyes darted involuntarily towards it. Even though she couldn't see him, she felt the demon's gaze leaving her as well. The sensation was similar to getting a stack of bricks off the shoulders.

"Forget it."

Nezuko jolted and looked at Rubikku. For the first time, he couldn't seem to meet her gaze. Although, it may have been just thoughtfulness.

"You… you weren't supposed to find out about me." The demon watched the fish with a strange, absent expression. "I still can't walk in the Wisteria District without my robot form." He smirked suddenly, and the metallic timbre strengthened in his voice. He looked at the demon girl, and the dips at the ends of his eyes softened.

"Right, Nezuko?"

Nezuko gazed at him. The trembling had stopped, but her mind was still empty.

I'll spare you.

A faint ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "Spare me."

Trying not to look back over her shoulder, Nezuko walked towards the door. Her watch blinked.

I'll pretend nothing happened.

" Agreed," was the soft reply behind her back. Nezuko slammed the door behind her back.

Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest she was afraid it'd break through the rib cage. Quivering, her hand rose upwards and pressed forcefully on her chest. Not taking it away, Nezuko walked slowly down the alley.

That didn't even take long. She should probably return home... no, Tanjiro will pick up on another demon's scent... In a detached motion, Nezuko lifted her fingers to her nose and sniffed. It was very light, and she couldn't even classify properly what if reminded her of, but it was there. Yes, it was better to wander around a little.

Hugging herself by the arms, Nezuko leaned against a lamppost and gazed up at the disappearing skyscrapers. Images of their time together with the robot flashed in her eyes, and each one increased the steadily growing bitter taste in her mouth.

A gleeful cackle, followed by nauseating chewing, rang somewhere from the distance.


A/N: Yoohoo! I'm back, and welcome to the new arc in his story!

(Technically, it's a mini-arc that flows into a larger arc, but those are specifics).

There were three scenes in this chapter, all thematically connected. I'll admit, Shinobu is the most difficult character for me to write. Despite watching the anime, scouring the fandom online, and reading a ton of giyuushino, I just can't seem to find an anchor point in her personality to launch off of. I don't know how many times I've rewritten the first scene exploring her nature: and even though I found an interpretation that I like to write (at least, theoretically), it wasn't demonstrated in this chapter. So bear with me, and hopefully by the end of it all, I'll give Shinobu the justice that she deserves.

This chapter also featured an unusually large amount of OCs. I typically try to avoid them since there are already so many canon characters to deal with. This time it was kind of inevitable because our characters (naturally) don't only interact with their KnY buds. Besides, there is only one OC in this chapter that actually matters to the plot and its themes.

And again, thank you so much! I'm so happy that this story is being read, and reviews always were, are and will be welcomed :) See you next update, and all the best!