AN: Hey... How ya'll doing...
I know this is so sudden, but yeah, I'll be back in Febuary, but I completely forgot to post these chapters on , so uh sorry for such a long wait.
You can read the latest chapters that will be posted on my AO3 under the same name, but yeah. Sorry?
The other eight days went by fast, mainly due to Makomo spending the time training with Takemichi and finding new ways to style his hair.
Makomo clicked her tongue randomly as she tweaked and pulled on parts of his styled hair, asking, "Are you sure you like this hairstyle?" She paused to ask; Takemichi couldn't even see the style but hummed affirmatively.
"I mean, it's really girly; I don't think I've ever met a boy who was so willing to wear these styles beside you." She muttered worriedly as she tied a red bow tight, but Takemichi reassured her in broken Japanese.
"It's all good." Makomo hummed in response.
Finally, Takemichi felt her tug something tight in his hair as she stepped back. "Alright," she huffed, breathless at her work, "I think I'm done." Takemichi reached a hand up to softly touch the hairstyle.
"Braid..." A braid. Takemichi thought. A very intricate braid at that. As he turned to face Makomo, she placed two hands on her hips to smile at him. "Like it?" she asked.
Takemichi couldn't help but nod at her.
The planks creaked as someone stepped into their chambers, and both turned to Sabito, who looked at them. The boy quirked a brow up at Takemichi, who sat with his hair in a long braid.
"Oi Makomo, what are you doing to Takemitchy's hair?" He questioned face confused, Makomo huffed, "Braiding it obviously, since someone doesn't want me to do theirs." Her cheeks puffed out.
Their friendly argument faded away as Takemichi got up and exited the minka, sighing as the fresh and much cleaner air hit his face. He barely heard the soft wind chimes from an unknown source clanking together from the soft breeze while he was lost in thought.
Takemichi turned and hooked his eyes on the form of a man with an overly large straw-hat stalking down the small slope. As the man looked up, Takemichi could make out that he was wearing aHyottoko mask, which was odd because there was no festival in sight.
However, over the past two years, he got used to the seemingly random use of masks.
As he got closer, Takemichi could hear the man sigh, "Back here again... ", tiredly trotting along. Takemichi waved his hand and tried to politely say, "Ano, G-good morning!" The man cut him off.
"My name is Haganezuka, andI have forged the three swords for the residents of this home." Haganezuka introduced himself, saying, "Ah, thank you." Takemichi thanked with a lisp, "My name is Takemichi Han-.."
The strange Haganezuka pulls the bundle of swords from his back gently and holds it in front of Takemichi. "This is the Nichirin Sword. I forged it." The man spoke, and Takemichi nodded instinctively.
Sabito and Makomo lean out of the entrance of the minka, their faces calm as they look at the two outside. "Ah, good morning, sir!" Makomo politely greeted; she beckoned, "Please come in-."
"The materials for a Nichirin Sword can be obtained from the mountain closest to the sun." The man ignored her and explained the sword and its creation. It was actually shockingly intriguing to Takemichi.
Sabito snorted ignorantly and quite loudly behind Makomo at her existence being dismissed as he moved to open his own mouth. "Hey! Old man, you should come in—"
Then, he too was cut off as Haganezuka continued, "Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand and Scarlet Crimson Ore. They produce steel that can absorb sunlight."
Takemichi oohed at the explanation, eyes wide as he stared at the metal sword, the real deal. "How do you figure- it, sir?" Takemichi quickly asked, and the man looked at him. Under his mask, Takemichi could feel his curiosity about the other boy as well.
"Mt. Yoko is bathed in sunlight all day long, you see, never a cloud or rain in sight." He described it to him, and Takemichi was amazed at ever hearing of such a place. Was it a kind of spirit?
Sabito's face was lightly red as he was ignored, much to his plight. Makomo resisted the urge to tease him before Urokodaki-san stealthily walked up behind them.
As he realised who was at the door, he sighed, causing the two children—or, rather, adults in children's bodies—to jump.
"There he goes, always." Urokodaki-san rubbed his forehead as Haganezuka eventually finished his rant.
"Are you going to stay chattering outside or come inside?" The older man called out, causing the boy outside to flinch, while the man in the hyokotto mask merely shrugged.
"I'm not sure, but I quite like the conversation I'm having with this boy right here." The man paused.
"If he wanted, he could drop the demon slayer course and go for the swordsmith one, if you get what I mean." Haganezuka teased cheekily as Urokodaki-san resisted the urge to sigh again.
"Preferably not; he had already passed the final selection." The former pillar shot down as the swordsmith only huffed and moved to enter the building before pausing again and saying, "Hey..."
The man halted as he moved to step into the house. He turned to face the boy, looking at him intently. "Eh?" Takemichi sounded out as Haganezuka pointed a finger at him.
"Are you that boy that was in a coma here a few months ago?" The man questioned, and Urokodaki-san stiffened behind him, "Do you not know anything about personal space?" He gruffly asked as Haganezuka turned back to the house.
"What? I just asked." He whined immaturely, and Urokodaki-san ran a hand along his mask, "And you say your thirty-seven?"
Takemichi moved to sit down on the floor and responded in broken Japanese, "Yes, I a-m."
Haganezuka huffed, and he plopped to the ground cross-legged as he asked again, "See?" He nudged the older man and said, "The kid wasn't offended."
"I was wondering since the door to the room was open." He started, "And I saw you; your hair isn't exactly forgettable." He commented, his effusive hands moving to curl a lock of Takemichi's loose hair from his braid.
"Hah! Anyway, back to what I really came here for." He said, his mood dropping significantly from before, "The last time I came here with the hopes of a bright red sword, I got a black one." Haganezuka muttered audibly and moved to scrutinise the children in the room with a dissecting eye.
"Ah~ a shame really, and none of you have the red hair and eyes like the Child of Brightness before." He sighed, "A shame indeed." He mumbled as Takemichi looked at him oddly.
Sabito smiled and looked strained as he politely asked, as nicely as he could, "Can I draw my sword, please?" Haganezuka looked at him and quickly handed him a sword, saying, "Yes, yes, hurry, draw it, draw it!" The man urgently demanded childishly.
As Sabito drew the weapon, Takemichi watched in awe and surprise as the metal changed from a sliver and metallic colour to a much more ocean blue hue. However, Haganezuka slumped and snapped his finger in disapproval.
"Blue? Damn it." Haganezuka mumbled, yet Sabito ignored the man's disappointment and instead admired his sword in the daylight. Makomo reached out to grab a sword afterward. She pulled the saya covering off the metal and lifted the now-drawn sword up to the ceiling.
Takemichi sat in awe as her sword changed from silver to blue as well. However, Haganezuka seemed still irked and sucked his teeth, creating a hissing sound as he snapped his head to Takemichi, the lone person left to draw a sword.
"You!" He called out loudly, causing Takemichi to flinch.
Taking it as a sign to take his own sword and draw it, Takemichi reached down for it and lifted the last sword up. He held his breath, and he slid the saya off the sori of the katana.
He lifted the sword up, and after a few seconds of bated breath... nothing happened.
His arms drooped as Haganezuka stroked his chin, just as confused as he was. "Ah? How is this possible? It should have changed by now." He asked rhetorically, reaching out his hand to grip the blade.
"Meh, whatever, I didn't like this place anyway; I'll go looking for that bright red sword at the Hashira's residence instead." Haganezuka dismissed him, picking himself up and scampering out of the house.
Takemichi blinked at Haganezuka's departure and looked back at the sword, moving to touch it gently with his finger. Yet it didn't shatter to pieces, so he furrowed his brows. Then what was wrong? Why didn't his colour change?
Makomo pressed her hand to his back and smiled at Takemichi with her calm face, and it grounded him a bit. It was scary how much she resembled Hina-chan...
Sabito jumped up without warning, putting his hands against his hips haughtily and said, "Well, since I'll be becoming a Hashira soon, I'll take both of you as my Tsugukos."
He twirls his pointer finger at them and asks, "Heh~ How does that sound? He asked with a smirk.
Takemichi nodded on instinct, unable to deny someone anything, while Makomo merely sighed at Sabito's antics.
Urokodaki-san huffed at them, "Now, now, not so fast, you still have to do that mission, yes?" He reminded them, and Sabito froze in place again. Takemichi snorted as Makomo covered her smile with her hand.
Then another set of "caws" settled in the air, and as they turned, three crows flew in. Takemichi nearly fell over as a crow hurriedly settled on his shoulder. "Caw Caw!"
Takemichi winced at the loud cries near his ears, "Ah, H-hello." Takemichi shakily greeted the new guest as they perched snuggly on his shoulder. "Takemitchy! North-northeast! Your first assignment is north-northeast!" The crow recited.
The other crow on Makomo's arm chirped, its voice more feminine. "The three of you are to go to Mt. Natagumo!" before the final one simply, yet tiredly repeated, "Head to Mt. Natagumo..."
Urokodaki-san grunted as he stood up and brushed his hands together to disperse dust, making a soft clap. "Well." He stated, straightening his back, "You three better get going now."
The three hurried into their room, only leaving when Makomo was getting dressed to give her privacy due to her being the other gender, obviously. While Sabito got his uniform on with ease, Takemichi didn't manage to, so in the end, he was the last one to get dressed.
"Takemitchy, hurry!" Sabito urged from outside with his sword already set up, and Takemichi muttered something back.
As he looked through his empty drawer, the only things in it were his uniform, his haori from two years ago by that old man, and the few letters from Tanjiro when he awoke from his coma.
As he tugged on the uniform shirt, he felt it fit snugly on his body, with enough flexibility to move yet enough strength and thick coverage for him not to feel naked.
The same couldn't be said for his pants, however; maybe this is what he got from saying that Sabito's and his were the same size to the tailor, when, quite frankly, they were not.
As Takemichi pulled them up, he noticed they felt tight around the thigh area, and yes, he was aware of how... well built? He was in such an area, which at first didn't seem like a problem, until he finally got it up.
They were... uncomfortably tight around that area, yet luckily, the way the pants flared out from that point down managed to hide the tightness.
Yet he did have to tie the belt around his waist—incredibly tight—to make the pants appear properly fit. Thankfully, his haori could hide the back of his pants where the fabric scrunched up oddly.
"Hurry! Hurry!" Sabito slammed the door open, calling Takemichi, who was now setting his sword on his belt properly. Sabito looked him over, pausing and clicking his tongue.
"Tch, that's wrong," he commented much quieter than previously, before moving to fix the way Takemichi set the hilt in the proper way.
"Thank you..." Takemichi thanked him, yet Sabito waved an unconcerned arm at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, no problem; let your head out now; your crow's waiting for you, man." He said that as they exited the house and began their trek away.
Takemichi looked back briefly, his gut churning at the thought that he might or will not see this place again.
However, he held his tongue as they went.
~
Kagaya Ubuyashiki sat down, shuffling mutely as the exhausted and bone-weary Kasugai crow laid in his lap. The bird let out soft chirps and cries, pitiful and weary, as the older, ill man gently ran his fingers over his bristled feathers.
Ubuyashiki held his gentle and caring smile, his voice calming and soothing those in front of him as he spoke aloud. "Oh~" he muttered, "You did well to return." He reassured the tired crow, who peered up at him with a tear in their eyes.
Ubuyashiki rhetorically asked again, "So, most of my children have been slaughtered?" The bird twittered affirmatively, and the man, although blind, looked up with shining, all-seeing eyes.
"We might find the Twelve Kizuki there, then." He hinted at the crowd, which stiffened here and there or gripped their weapons harshly, their strength so great that they bent the hilts of their swords. Some snarled like animals, while others let out a softly muttered prayer.
"It seems I'll have to send in some Hashiras. No?" Ubuyashiki cocked his head, his black, straight bob cut tilting diagonally as he thought for a moment. "Giyuu, Shinobu," he soon called out.
The teen let out a breath at her name being called, out of humour or despair, no one knows. The man in question simply sat silent. "As you wish!" They answered hastily, eager to obey.
The girl, Kocho, turned to her mission partner with a hushed voice and said, "If only humans and demons could get along." her gaze a fascia of calm and happiness, "Don't you agree, Tomioka-san?"
Giyuu turned his gaze down to look at her, her height less than superb, and responded quietly, "Impossible... as long as demons eat humans."
Kocho hummed, a smile pasted permanently on her face as she turned away. "I heard that the other half of your position as a Hashira is also there." She mentioned it offhandedly, causing Giyuu to stiffen minutely.
"To think, the younger generation sure is strong, aren't they?" Kocho praised, "I mean, I don't know their age, but if it's so recent, then they must be young."
The Insect Hashira turned upwards to look at the Water Hashira, who lingered behind her as they walked through the corridors of the mansion. Her eyes crinkled as she peered into the other's lifeless ones, "First Muichiro-kun, and now this... what do you think Tomioka-san?" She asked.
Giyuu's fingers dug into his hands as he held back from cursing out loud and instead turned his gaze to the floor. "Hm, it's great, I suppose."
Kanroji Mitsuri, The Love Hashira looked at the two from afar, her face fixed in a focused expression as she innately pressed her hand to her cheek. "Ngh..." She let out a despite herself, as her mind was deep in thought.
Rengoku Kyojuro, The Flame Hashira looked at her with his flaming smile, arms crossed in his usual stance, as he interrupted her train of thought with a hearty laugh.
"Hahaha!" He let out the laugh right from his chest, causing Kanroji to jump, the hairs on her body standing upright as she blinked. "Hah," Rengoku sighed, "isn't it great to see your comrades getting along, Misturi-chan?"
Kanroji smiled as she gazed at her mentor, feeling much better in his presence. "Y-yes, it really is!" She happily responded, before she remembered what she was worried about in the first place.
"Ah! Kyojuro-san, do you remember our last meeting with Oyakata-sama?" She asked awkwardly, and yet Rengoku, unable to read her or the mood in general, simply ignored her plight as he responded. "Ah, yes, the one where we discussed the idea of having double Water Pillars, yes?"
Kanroji nodded, "Ano, yes, w-what do you think about it?" She asked him, and Rengoku paused and looked down at her with a fixated expression, causing Kanroji to fidget.
"Hm, I was quite shocked to hear about a child, a newbie at that, being able to take down over fifty demons in final selection!" He started, "Truly, the next generation sure is formidable."
Kanroji couldn't help but agree.
"However, I am a bit worried about the fact that they are so young." The Flame Hashira's face took on a grave expression: "We should be protecting the next generation, not pushing them further into the battle." He stalwartly stated, while Kanroji was just happy that he had the same impression as her.
Her heart released the unspoken tension she never knew existed.
"Yes. We already have Tokito-kun. I'd hate for another child to be put on the front lines of danger." She muttered, and Rengoku looked at her for a moment before speaking up again.
"Ah..." He muttered something abnormally calm and quiet, and Kanroji turned her gaze back up as he spoke up, "You're worried about how the child will be." Kanroji blinked, then lit up pink at being called out.
Behind her, however, a man with hair as white as snow growled, teeth grating against each other as he all but barked at the two.
"Who cares how the kid will act?" He shouted, causing the two to recoil at the loud sound and turn toward him. "As long as they can hold their own, it's fine."
Rengoku stared at him with a strained smile and verbalized, "Yes, I understand Shinazugawa-san, but this is a child."
"Tch, child this, child that, if Tokito can fight well enough to become a Hashira, then this kid can too," The Wind Hashira huffed agitated, "I don't like that we have resorted to children either, but if they have the talent, we should use it."
Shinazugawa glared at them heatedly, crossing his disfigured arms.
"Also, you shouldn't be gossiping right outside Oyakata-sama's door." He chided Kanroji roughly as she looked over at the floor, her face red and ashamed, the two moles on her cheeks accentuating the fact.
Meanwhile, Rengoku nodded his head; his smile felt stiff. "Ah!" he interjected, "You have a good point, Shinazugawa-san! I apologize."
Shinazugawa merely huffed at his antics before turning away dismissively. His hands firm at his sides as he clenched and unclenched them.
His sweaty, slick palms caused the man to growl, his heart itching for a fight.
~
Tanjiro smiled softly as his ragtag team foraged onward. Truly, Tanjiro wasn't exactly sure where they were headed and instead placed his trust in the directions given by his crow.
... To which he had to say that they weren't the best character. a bit loud and harsh, yet nothing Tanjiro couldn't handle. As for his group, well, as his burgundy eyes flickered back, he chewed on his lips.
Agatsuma Zenitsu was a cry-baby at best and a coward at worst; as you can tell, there isn't that big of a change. Tanjiro, on the other hand, couldn't help but think of the older boy as a younger brother.
Not that he would ever betray his own younger siblings!
He just needed some time to get over them, and... it...
Either way, Hashibira Inosuke also had that aura of childish recklessness around him as well. Tanjiro felt a lot better staying with them rather than travelling alone with himself and his spiralling thoughts.
His thoughts periodically raced back to Takemitchy and... Sabito-san and Makomo-san. It rubbed him the wrong way, knowing Takemitchy was left alone on the mountain, training to become a slayer like him.
Tanjiro knew it wouldn't be a nice, flowery career, yet his first few battles were nothing short of awful. His treatment broke more of his ribs than he was comfortable with, but total concentration did help to relieve pain and speed up the healing process.
And it weighed on his heart to learn what had happened to Sabito and Makomo-san.
He rubbed at his chest, rough and awkward, as he ran, speeding up as the two behind him squeaked at his speed. "Tanjiro!" Zenitsu cried, "Don't leave me here!"
Inosuke gruffly and manically chuckled aloud, "Haha!" He grinned ferally under his boar mask. Tanjiro was at first a bit startled by the mask. the scent of a live, dead animal, yet knowing and seeing how attached the pretty boy was to it, he held his tongue.
"Gompachiro! I won't let you win!" He cackled, and as Tanjiro darted off, he followed behind him.
His chest ached and burned from the agitation of pressing on his fractured ribs, yet Tanjiro couldn't find it in himself to care. The technique was successful in repairing his bones to the point where he didn't have to worry too much.
They came to a halt in front of a building with a familiar plant on the main wall of the entrance. "Ah," Tanjiro muttered, "an inn, we can get some assistance here, what do you think?" He turned to the other two.
Zenitsu squealed like a pig while Inosuke began to ramble about something, so Tanjiro took those responses as a firm yes.
As they entered the building, a kind old woman greeted them. Short, stout, and sweet in every nook and smiled at her, and embarrassingly had to bonk Inosuke or Zenitsu, or a little bit of both, every time they tried to pick a fight with the saccharine old woman.
"Slayers," she lamented, "always so young, most don't make it to adulthood." Tanjiro blew the tea that he was offered.
"Mh, yes, I'm aware, but for the sake of protecting the weak, I will do what I can." He declared, and the woman chuckled, "Ah, of course, so kind of you."
He beckoned him into the room the three boys would stay in tonight. Spacious, with sleeping mats laid perfectly and neatly on the floor. Tanjiro turned to thank her before Zenitsu screeched in his sleeping robe.
"AH! How could she have done this so fast!" He started, and Tanjiro felt a vein pulse. "A-a demon! She has to be-ACK!" Tanjiro chuffed him.
Inosuke huffed, "A demon! Argh! Fight me old hag!" He turned around and cried to the now shut door. Tanjiro snapped, "She's not a demon, Inosuke and Zenitsu, calm down!"
As they finally ended up snuggling into the sheets, Tanjiro buried his nose under them. Small sniffs here and there, and soon he stiffened.
It wasn't a case that the sheets were dirty; far from it, they were cleaner than anything Tanjiro could ever achieve. But, as he sniffed again, there was no denying it.
"Takemitchy-kun..." he mumbled quietly into the night as Inosuke snored and Zenitsu whimpered.
The faint stench of fresh snow, and grass lingered on the sheet. Extremely faint for the average nose, but, well, Tanjiro had anything but an average nose.
~
Takemichi cracked his knuckles with a sweet pop to his ears. He sighed, slouching down as he rested on his bedding, given to him by the sweet old lady that ran this manor.
He blearily stared at the Wisteria family crest, remembering how the woman first regarded them as "demon-hunters." He sighed; for such a secret organization, it seemed more and more people knew about it every day.
Takemichi was glad it was still morning. He turned to face the open door of their shared room. Makomo got her own room, obviously, so only Sabito and Takemichi resided in the quarters.
The boy in question was chewing up some good and tasty, let alone fresh, omurice, while Takemichi had already eaten his out swiftly, waiting for the meal to settle in his stomach before training out in the provided field.
The silence was nice, accompanied by the chirps of birds outside and the quiet noise of outsiders. Sabito's eyes trailed to Takemichi's prone position for a moment, his chewing slowing down as he swallowed down the food.
"Hey... Takemitchy?" He called out hesitantly, resulting in the boy shuffling to face him, his face squashed onto the sheets as he peered at the other. "Hm?" he responded.
Sabito's brows creased upwards, worry visible as his question lay heavy on his tongue. Eventually he spilled, "I know you might not want to talk about it, but... I wanted to ask about your scars." He dragged out and noticed in the corner of his eyes that Takemichi stiffened up.
The blonde pushed himself upright, staring at Sabito with wide, almost fearful eyes. Takemichi took a shaky breath, his eyes almost beginning to water.
"What of them?" Takemichi stammered out his words, his face flushed, and his eyes darted around to avoid making eye contact. "You don't have to tell me everything; I just want to know how." Sabito frowned. Takemichi gnawed on his lip, his eyes widening.
Truthfully, he hadn't wanted to confront past experiences so soon, and really, it made his chest constrict. Takemichi forced a shaky smile, whether by habit or instinct—he didn't know anymore.
"Ah-I see... Takemichi started, blinking away his tears. "I... I can't tell you-now." He wiped his eyes and looked up at Sabito, whose eyes sparkled softly with intrigue and worry at the same time. Takemichi internally huffed as he tried to articulate his words properly.
His eyes burned as he maintained eye contact; he knew that the other's curiosity could lead to death.
Having been in the front row seat of such a tale.
It's a bit funny, isn't it? Normally, such drama and tragedy don't spring up in a matter of weeks, but when Takemichi was present, it was prominent and widespread.
He resisted the urge to laugh darkly and returned his gaze to Sabito, saying in broken terms, "I - you I will... when I have - courage." It wasn't exactly a lie, per se.
Takemichi knew that the boy wouldn't be around long enough to tell his worries to Mikey; there would be too much of an age gap, and most likely than not, Sabito would be long gone. Six feet under, if you will.
However, the idea of telling someone again so soon made him fidget uneasily. Memories of Chifuyu cursing him out provided some firm evidence for this point in his mind.
Sabito coughed into the open yet awkward silence left by Takemichi's refusal to speak; although polite, the other was expecting some form of acceptance. Never the less, he held his tongue again.
"I... see. Takemitchy, I didn't mean to push you." He bowed his head and said, "I was just worried; I'm sorry."
Takemichi accepted Sabito's apology quietly, surprised by his new, more subdued tone. Takemichi's eye turned to the open door of the room again, eyeing the small outdoor area, just as he was about to make some lame comment about the weather to distract themselves.
The door on the other side of them creaked open softly, and behind it Makomo stood fully dressed already. "You two!" she huffed at the improper sight of them. "Get dressed!" She all but ordered, her hands reaching for a pillow on the floor.
Takemichi weakly shielded his head against the onslaught of hits she landed on him with the pillow as Sabito snorted at them.
Makomo stopped to look at him before emotionlessly saying, "You aren't dressed either; why are you laughing?" before turning to hit him as well.
She sighed, "You better get ready soon. We should be able to reach the mountain by dawn today."
The two boys moved quickly, but not hurriedly. Sliding their straightened and ironed clothes over their heads and tightening their straps, they avoided looking at each other to preserve some semblance of privacy, mostly out of respect for one another.
Soon, the soft taps of their feet were heard as they slid on their shoes and got properly fixed their uniforms. The road ahead of them is significantly shorter than last time.
Takemichi's gaze shifted sideways to the forest, the dense clusters and abundance of trees reminding him of his training. His feet thumped as he jogged at a swift yet not slow pace behind the other two slayers.
The other side of the path was only moist farmland, and with fields so wide, it seemed to go on forever. Takemichi chewed on his lip again, the visage reminding him of home and the future.
Sabito returned his gaze with a smile and a challenge: "Oi!" he called out, "Takemitchy, let's race!" His fuzzy hair flickered in the wind, and his pace never slowed as he challenged.
Makomo nudged him, "Sabito." She spoke, her face and tone clearly unimpressed, yet Takemichi nodded his head as he sped up. Takemichi inhaled through his nose, his posture instinctively straightening at the feeling running through him.
As he ran past the two who had stopped bickering, he immaturely puffed his cheeks out like a chipmunk as he held his breath.
Sabito gawked briefly before fixing his expression as he noticed the distance. He pushed off with his feet, leaving a dust cloud behind. "Hey, I didn't say go!" He yelled as he sped up behind Takemichi, who was now in the lead.
Takemichi felt a grin spread across his face, the memories of this morning fading from his mind as he cackled aloud for the first time in the years of being here. Sabito and Makomo, who were picking up their pace as well, blinked behind him.
He didn't look back to see their reaction as he sprinted towards the foot of the mountain. Realistically, he knew he might wear himself out by the halfway point, but it was the fun that mattered.
Right?
The trek was, predictably, divided into intervals due to the need for a break. Makomo reprimanded them for letting themselves get worn out so quickly and ended up taking the rest of the journey much more slowly to preserve energy.
The night had taken hold of the sky soon enough. The blues and whites were now covered with cascading and warm tones of pink and red, with a hint of yellow in the mix as Takemichi gazed at it.
He held his breath; the beauty of it all curled around his heart in a vice-like grip. Truly, no matter the time or era, the sky above will always be the same, no matter what.
Sabito quickly slowed his pace as they reached their destination, huffing as he took in the mountain they had been sent to.
There was still a small chunk left to walk, yet as they moved closer, Sabito halted, a hand instinctively reaching out to shield them from something. He whispered, audibly, to only them, "There's something stronger here; this isn't your average demon."
His eyes turned to them, and the crows above them hushed before one soon flew down. They hooked their talons onto the sleeve of Sabito's uniform.
"Caw! Caw! Many people have gone missing on this mountain, even a few slayers." They cried out loudly, relaying the most important part of their message that they had somehow forgotten to relay.
Sabito hummed, "See?" He urged his gaze on them. "This isn't your average demon; if it were another, they would have already slain them."
Makomo and Takemichi soaked up his words; the dourness of the situation shocked them momentarily.
The trio turned back to the mountain. They pushed forward silently, moving tautly, their eyes much more vigilant than before as they scanned the area.
The shuffling of bushes as they neared made them get into a defensive stance quickly.
They finally entered the forest floor, and the shrubs nicked and tickled their feet. They breathe in the clean and earthly air, shaky and hesitant, mainly in Takemichi's case.
Takemichi couldn't help but cast anxious glances around the forest, the nervous-wrecking feeling in his head about fighting strong as usual.
As they moved deeper into the forest, another human's groans became suspended in the air. This time it was another person, not from their group.
Sabito quickly began to run forward, but before he could make any further distance, Makomo reacted and grabbed the scruff of his uniform shirt. "Mako-" he tried to say, but the girl pressed her hand to his lips, making a shushing motion with her other hand as he let go.
He huffed and moved back, and Takemichi continued to follow them to the source, swords out of their hilts and tightly gripped in their hands. They finally pushed aside the lower branches of the trees after what seemed like an eternity.
They were greeted with the sight of a girl with wide, dark brown eyes that faded to a lighter colour at the bottom and shoulder-length black hair that she tied up in a mid-ponytail. Strands of her hair flicked outward like bangs.
She wheezed, gripping her sword tight, as another slayer came into view. This time, a male with squarish eyes and small black irises, both wore the standard uniform.
Behind them were other slayers, yet as Takemichi squinted, he could see thin, pearlescent threads grasping onto them. In a way, he was reminded of a puppet, and as they moved, his eyes widened.
They moved unnaturally; the faces of the living slayers that were tied up in the threads were scared and fearful, while the faces of the dead ones were blank, limp, and gushing with blood from many orifices.
It was much more brutal than any gang fight he'd seen. Takemichi gulped as his hand quickly pressed against his mouth.
He felt bile climb up his throat, and for a split second, he thought he would throw up.
Sabito pushed him, snapping him out of his reverie for a moment. "Focus." He hissed, and Takemichi straightened his back, a bead of sweat sliding down his sideburns, his gaze returning to the corpses that were tied up.
Sabito rushed forward the moment the puppet moved to land a blow on the boy, whose sword was slightly cracked and bent from how long he had been fighting.
Makomo glided along as well, her weapon raised as she slashed, while Takemichi pathetically stayed behind. He ran up to the boy, who was shivering in fear. Takemichi reached him and said, "Takemichi Hanagaki, rank..., unde-ci-ded." he choppily stated.
The boy stared at him and said, "Undecided..." He muttered, "Undecided! Why couldn't they have sent a Hashira?" He declared loudly, his voice timid and scared, but his eyes were fiery.
He trembled, saying, "No matter how much Mizunoto they send, it won't help; it's pointless." He gasped, "P-please." Takemichi reached for the other person's back, but they backed away.
The girl on the floor sobbed softly. "Why, why..." Her sword lay in pieces on the ground, dangerous to those who might walk on it. The boy sucked in a breath and said, "The crow gave us the order! And ten of us demon slayers came here."
He winced. "Not long after we entered the mountain, the Slayers... started killing each other!" He cried out, but the commotion around them drowned it out.
Then a strange sound echoed through the forest, loud and clear, temporarily stopping the puppets. Sabito and Makomo stopped, confused as to why the slayers would still act so suddenly.
Takemichi examined the situation before a small tingle was sent up his bare arm. His blue eye trickled down to small, wine-colored spiders curled around this arm.
As it crawled around his arm, its spinneret twitched and puckered in the air; he barely registered the small and barely noticable tension and pressure that was now on his arm until it was too late.
Then a force pulled upwards, and Takemichi let out a distressed sound. It was loud and instantly caught the attention of the other slayers. "Takemitchy!" Sabito called out in fear, and Takemichi hurried to cut the thread as soon as he realised where it was.
"What the hell was that?" Sabito asked as he pulled Takemichi up, and quickly Takemichi turned to slice another spider in half. "Quick! The spiders are together with the demon!" He told them as he moved to cut up some more spiders.
Sabito followed in pursuit quietly, as did the other two. "Ozaki-san, are you alright?" The boy asked, and the girl gritted her teeth and said, "Yeah, thanks, Murata-kun. Quick, let's get rid of these spiders quickly."
They moved quickly, and to their relief, the slashed spiders couldn't reattach themselves afterwards. Sabito wiped his brow, leaving Makomo to slice the threads on the puppets.
The peach-haired boy turned to the two seniors. "Thank you so much for allowing us to help senpai!" Sabito politely bowed to them in respect. "My name is Sabito, and I'm undergoing Hashira testing, so my rank is unknown," he pushed himself up.
Murata looked at Sabito, shock written clear on his face. "You!" he pointed at Sabito, who blinked at the other, before the adult responded again, "You're in Hashira-testing! You're a child!"
Takemichi could see Sabito's jaw clench tight and unclench, most likely angry at being called a child when he knew the man wasn't. Though... it was hard not to call the guy a boy when he looked so young.
As introductions were made, Takemichi turned away and looked up, where he saw Makomo gracefully land from the sky and tilt her head sideways to observe them.
She spun her sword with ease, almost like a pen, as she smiled. "Hello senpais!" She said jocosely, "My name is Makomo; I have no last name."
The two adults turned to her with wide eyes and asked curiously, "Are you in Hashira testing too?" The woman asked her, but Makomo only chuckled and said, "No, I'm only here for the ride, you see."
"Y'know, Sabito, you remind me of a boy in my Final Selection test," Murata commented softly as he returned his gaze to Sabito, who stiffened.
"Such a shame; he was so strong, I'm not sure how he didn't make it." He trailed off, and Sabito chuckled mutely. Takemichi made no comment on the lack of emotion in it as he whispered something to reassure the other person under his breath.
Makomo clapped her hands and spoke loudly, "Now, let's move on." She turned to the near-invisible pathway made by the slayers before; "unfortunately, there might not be any more survivors, so we should get going," she said.
The quintet moved along, the sticks beneath them cracking under the weight of their feet.
Above them, the squeaks of something were heard, and the group quickly turned their heads up. A white-painted demon stood above, precariously balanced on a thin spider's web suspended by the treeline.
"Don't disturb my family's peaceful life." The demon warned ominously, sounding cold and fierce despite its childlike appearance.
"Mother will kill you all right away." They urged, fingers dripping with red.
Sabito didn't wait a second; his feet kicked off the ground and he leaped firmly onto a tree before soaring upwards. However, his sword barely managed to reach the demon's neck and instead only cut off a concave piece of his shoulder.
The demon fled, and as Sabito landed, he clicked his tongue. Murata gasped in awe, whispering quietly behind them, "No wonder he's in Hashira-testing; even I can't do that."
They pushed onward, "Does anyone have the ability to scope out the forest?" Sabito asked into the tense air, "To find the demon."
Takemichi nodded negatively, his wiry yet lithe arms getting goosebumps in the cold winds of the forest. Before a figurative light bulb appeared over his head, he looked up, unsure, before finally putting two fingers in his mouth and whistling.
It was high-pitched, yet soft and contradictingly loud in volume. Like a thin stream of water flowing from a tap. The group turned to face him, brows raising in confusion as he looked up.
They gazed upwards after him, the flaps of a bird now palpating in the air. Finally, three crows glided down and landed on their partners' shoulders. Takemichi scratched the crow's neck softly and mutely asked, "Ano-, can you search for the demon?"
"P-please?" Takemichi's lip jutted out habitually.
The crow blinked at him before nodding with a small chirp and beckoning the other crows to follow him, who let out whines of displeasure before actually soaring off after the crow.
Takemichi let his arm down. As he turned to face the group, they looked around. Sabito smiled at him. "That was smart of you," he lauded. Takemichi flushed and rubbed his hand on his nape, stuttering out a thank you and focusing on the path again.
They trekked forward, and as they moved forward; they were forced to slash more corpses free of their bindings and bisect even more spiders.
Finally, the crows soon came back and cawed out the demon's location.
They were as silent as they could be as they moved through the forest floor, their shoes cushioning their heavy steps. As they approached the location, they could see a demon, just like the one they had seen before.
They brushed up against the forest's understory leaves and shrubs, lingering in the shadows as Sabito stepped out into the seemingly only moonlit area of the forest.
The demon was top-heavy; her body was curvy and hourglass-like, and her hair and skin were as white as the demon before her. She trembled in fear or anger, her hands moving in agitation and in desperation as she muttered aloud for the group to hear.
"No!" She exclaimed, causing Sabito to freeze behind her, his sword firm in his hand. "No, where are they?" She cried softly, biting her lip as her hair swished with her movement.
His eyes narrowed, and in a clean motion, he slashed. Her head slid off diagonally, rolling to the ground, and she rolled over, facing the group. The demon blinked and said, "Ah." She let out a shaky word before her situation dawned on her, her head starting to turn to dust.
"Ah, w-what?" She asked rhetorically, in a confused manner. Tears having begun filling her eyes in a similar manner to Takemichi's, she cried, "N-no, h-how I had you!"
Sabito looked down at her as she sobbed.
Takemichi moved forward to get a better glimpse of the scene with his sad, almost pitiful eyes. Truly, no one deserves to die at another's hands. But he knew he couldn't let her crimes go unpunished and unspoken, so he turned away.
Her head quickly dwindled away as she stopped blubbing. Ozaki mumbled behind them, "S-so easy." She gazed at the spot where the demon was laid to waste aloofly, her eyes stultifying in color.
"Everyone died at her hands, and she went down so easily," she said again.
Makomo returned a subtly worried look to the two adults behind her as Takemichi moved to her side. Sabito huffed, "Alright, now forwards."
Then, the demon's soft voice resonated in the air, its words loud, just as they were about to move off.
"Twelve Kizuki, be care- ful..." She warned them before fading away completely. The group stilled and the air around them went rigid with fear and nerviness, and Takemichi stood slightly confused.
"A genuine Twelve Kizuki is in these forests," Sabito exhaled. Murata gripped his sword and choked out, "Well, no wonder we couldn't beat them!" He gritted his teeth.
Takemichi took in their faces; from them, he could tell that this was not something good.
Sabito looked at them and verbally nudged the two adults that lingered behind, "Maybe it would be better if you stayed back and left until some more help arrived." He suggested politely, but anyone could tell it was an order.
Murata opened his mouth, looking like he was going to object, before snapping it shut. His clenched fists rested against his thighs, trembling with emotion.
Ozaki shakily smiled, much more accepting of the order than her partner, and shook her head. The Kanoe agreed, her sword trembling in her grasp. "Yeah," she started softly.
"Maybe it would be better." Ozaki muttered under her breath. Murata twisted his head toward her with a flabbergasted and betrayed look but held his tongue.
Sabito glanced at them, brows upturned docilely. "I understand your worry," he started, smiling softly. "But it would be great if you stayed by the edges of the forest, to warn any slayers that might come forward." He urged.
Murata's face was red as he closed his mouth and finally spoke, "Fine!" before huffing and puffing back through the path they came from.
Takemichi turned back to face the now-trio, puzzled. "Ah-" he stuttered; hand raised shakily. As he looked at the other, Sabito shifted on his feet, ready to flee.
"Something wrong? Takemitchy?" Sabito asked, staring at the other's uncomfortably visible face. Takemichi flushed slightly and fidgeted on his feet.
"What is the Twe-luh Ki-saki?" He butchered and choked out, his face contorting slightly in frustration as he struggled. Makomo and Sabito stood still and slowly twisted their necks to look at him carefully.
Makomo's gentle eyes examined his face up and down before slowly asking him, in a soft and slow manner, "Do you not know about them?" Sabito's eyes narrowed before he stepped closer to Takemichi and grabbed at his shoulder tightly.
Takemichi flinched back, his lips beginning to tremble as he did so. Sabito nearly pressed up against the other, yet his aura was threatening.
"Takemitchy, the Twelve Kizuki are the strongest set of demons to ever exist, under the control of the progenitor of the demons himself," he finally breathed as he spoke.
Takemichi swallowed and couldn't help but look away, just as Sabito was about to speak again and Makomo drew the other back.
"Enough, Sabito; let's hurry," she said with a strained smile. The other bit his lip yet agreed, clearly wanting to say more yet deciding against it.
He beckoned them to follow quickly, and they sprinted off.
The muffled sound of fighting filled their ears, but it was difficult to pinpoint the battle's location.
The darted off, leaving Takemichi behind without any thought. "Ah!" the boy said subconsciously. Their speed quick and hasty making it hard to tell where they had darted off too.
Takemichi held his sword tight and swivelled his head 180 degrees, trying to figure out where he was. His navigation skills weren't exactly the best; had he been in Shibuya, it would have been different, but he wasn't.
It wasn't even like he had some sort of spatial awareness to help him here.
He soon arrived at a dirt road after trekking and traversing the winding, twisting, bushy, and shrubby path. Takemichi hummed.
He was left with a choice, and just as he was about to move, he heard a soft rattle.
He narrowed his artic blue eyes, his sword poised to slash and cut, before his gaze was drawn to a massive spider... with a human head! Takemichi paused, inhaling deeply as he prepared to draw his weapon and sever the damn thing in half.
Its eyes bulge out like a squishy toy, and its head is hairless and bald. The scent that permeated the fresh air made him gag. He wasted no time dashing forward to the thing before it skittered away and quickly decapitated it, only to watch as a purple sludge oozed out of its head.
Takemichi panted; the air was so filthy that he couldn't help himself. He gulped and moved forward at a jogging pace, staying vigilant with every step.
He took a few pauses here and there to slay the near-thigh-sized spider-humans that came into his vision and hopped off a few low trees with sturdy bark to quicken his travels, trying to avoid using Time Stop to aid him.
Then abruptly a flash of lightning hit; it was a loud roar of sorts, and it stunned Takemichi for a moment, and he was forced to use his time abilities to return his pure white vision to normal.
Without pause, Takemichi quickly hopped over to the source, knowing there was bound to be human activity, and when he did... the sight wasn't exactly a welcome one.
Unlike the previous sight from this night, Takemichi needed to keel over and vomit out his vital, yet pygmy breakfast from this morning; the sourness burned on his tongue.
He swallowed, somehow, someway, he discovered that he could bear the gruesome scenes of violence and cruelty before, but this... this was just awful.
The weight of reality finally bared down on his soul, like a giant's maw over his heart. Takemichi trembled, his bottom lip warblling as tears threatened to spill.
Despite his rigorous training and encounter with a true demon, the world around him had little impact on him to truly solidify his view of his position in it.
and in it, he a was mere mouse, a mere needle in a hay stack.
He hesitantly peered back up at them, only to gag, "Hrk-!"
The scent didn't help either. Takemichi gasped and heaved. Not even the gangs he was in before had this cruelty; sure, they were literally children (as if the thought didn't make him shudder).
But, in the end, not even they had the guts, the proverbial "balls," to hang someone up, live like that, and experiment on them. He had never seen a gangster do such a thing in all his years of time-jumping.
Even Kisaki and Mikey eventually put their victims out of their misery quickly, if you can even call being pummelled to death and being forced to bleed out by gunshots "quick."
The treatment of these people teetered along the lines of barbarous—no, it was barbarous.
Takemichi's blue eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the dangling, mangled, and mutated, human corpses dangling from what appeared to be threads from a spider's web.
Human, his mind spat.
Some of which even resembled the very things he slashed in the forest on his way here. Had he killed humans—not even demons, but humans?
Takemichi felt a sinister feeling breathe down his back and began to sweat again.
Takemichi gulped, shaking his head. "N-no," he shakily muttered out, trying to reassure himself that he was right. He had never killed someone with his own hands; sure, he may have unintentionally led some to their deaths.
e.g., Mikey, Draken, Emma, Izana, Kisaki, and others
But in the end, he wasn't the one to deliver the final blow. The one to end the life. The one to… murder another, another man, human.
It hurt like the constant whipping of a bag full of bricks across his bare chest; he knew he was irredeemable. Yet, now that he had finally managed to kill someone with his hands, it was a disgusting and contradicting feeling.
He had grown accustomed to being the weakest link—the crybaby, the runt of the litter. Essentially, he was the one to be babied and pampered by the biggest bad of them all, Mikey. But now...
He was strong, and for some reason, he didn't like it. Was it the fact that he didn't need any protection anymore? Or was it because he could no longer consider himself human with a good conscience?
Humans did not kill others because of their humanity; it was common sense. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and for some reason, a sensation bubbled up in his chest.
Laughter.
Takemichi laughed like no one was watching. It wasn't stomach clenching, but wheezing. "O-oh god!" He wheezed out, "I-I really am unredeemable, a demon in disguise." He cackled and whipped a tear from his eyes.
The scent of disgustingly far-gone, rotting flesh was strong, and it caused his eyes to water even more at its potency.
He had little time to think about the cause of such mutations and dehumanisation when the literal cause fell to the ground in front of him with a loud thump, its body following after.
The body of a large, dark, wine-purple, similar-looking spider slumped onto the ground, its head humanoid like the others. It skreiched as it realised it was dying and began to scream and babble unintelligently, yet Takemichi swallowed hard and innately tuned it out.
He looked around; none of the vandalized and crucified corpses strewn about like décor were alive, so the only living human would most likely be...
He glanced upwards, zooming in on the small wooden house that was suspended in the air.
Takemichi shuffled back, ready to take off at full speed, allowing the heat to course through his veins. Small crackles and sparks sprang up here and there in his blood, but he remained firm.
His arctic blue eyes glowed with neon electricity.
He kicked upwards and off, and as he made the leap, his legs instinctively flailed in the open air. Takemichi gasped and scrunched his eyes closed, imagining the heat coursing through his feet in an attempt not to fall flat on his face, and felt solid ground hit his feet as he leapt up again.
By the time he peaked out one eye, he had nearly jumped over the house. He frantically leaned back as he stabilised himself on the roof and stood still, panting.
Takemichi leaned over the ledge of the roof he came from, and his eyes widened at the sight of snow, white and clear in the night.
"Now, how did I do that? Ah..." He muttered, curious, before shifting his gaze to the other person on the roof with him.
He came to a halt and kneeled on the wood planks, scooting closer to the body and pressing a hand to their neck, relief filling him with the signature pulse of life.
Takemichi took them in silently. They had the same neon blonde hair as he did! Yet their eyes were dull and yellow too, unlike his. Takemichi looked over the body. "H-hello!" he pathetically called out, and to his surprise, he saw them slowly focus their gaze on him.
The boy groaned out a single name, "N-nez...ko..." Takemichi's fingers twitched above, his eyes widening as his bangs loosened and covered his eyes.
Nezuko, she's here? Then that would mean Tanjiro was here as well.
Takemichi paused before returning his attention to the boy. How did he even know her?
Takemichi pondered before he shook his head to disperse unneeded thoughts and focused, taking in the dark purple infection that had taken over the other's face.
He grimaced—it was an ugly sight for sure. But...
He could have helped fix it; he could have prevented the infection from starting in the first place. It was probably less than a year old, so it might only give him a migraine at best or a bloody nose at worst.
Takemichi swallowed again and scrunched his eyes closed, exhaling as he sent the energy to his nerves in his fingertips. He decided quickly to "heal" the boy before he could mentally back out.
Hastily, he made gentle contact with the boy's bare skin and pulsed the heat through his skin. Takemichi closed his eyes to focus, and after a few minutes he let go, the air feeling as though it had been sucking him dry as he panted and threw his head back.
The air around them was slightly colder, as was the boy's now uninfected body. The boy blearily blinked and squinted at Takemichi, then murmured, "G-gramps?"
Takemichi quirked a brow slightly as his chest rose and fell, trying to collect himself. "Gramps?" He thought aloud and hesitantly touched his own face.
Surely he didn't look that old, did he?
Takemichi looked at the other boy, who was still on their back, as they looked around, their eyes wide, yet unfocused. "G-gramps, you told me to survive, I..." they mumbled miserably, trailing off.
Takemichi felt something click in his mind as he took in the boy's words. It had to have been his life that flashed before his eyes during his near-death experience.
"Your live- ngh- life, it, ano-" Takemichi stumbled on his words, trying to find a proper way to articulate his response to the boy. "It… shined? Before your… ah-."
However, he could only explain so much; his vocabulary was limited.
After a few minutes of silence, the boy blinked quickly as Takemichi worriedly leaned over the edge of the building they were stuck on, looking for any sign of help.
Then, after a moment of seeing none, Takemichi turned back to the boy and leaned over them. Takemichi hummed, watching the boy's eyes dilate and shrink before finally adjusting to their natural size.
The boy looked up, their eyes widening to an obnoxiously large size as they shot upright, knocking Takemichi on the forehead.
The other recoiled and whimpered, "Ah!" Takemichi jolted back and rubbed at his forehead. The boy hissed and did so too.
"S-sorry I-" They stammered before squinting their eyes at Takemichi again. Their fuzzy eyes then suddenly sparkled, and Takemichi felt a bead of sweat trail down his back.
The boy cried out abruptly, just like his previous actions, "A-a girl!"
Takemichi flushed and blinked back at the boy, the other's eyes widening at the other, "Wait! P-please, marry me-" they jumped near him and gripped Takemichi's hands in a vice-like grip.
Then they paused, their formerly blurry vision now becoming more and more refined as they took in the "girl" before them.
Yes, the person before them had luscious lashes and soft eyes like a girl, as well as plump lips, but everything about his face was much more masculine, though holding some (read: a lot) feminine qualities.
The boy jumped back, dangerously close to the edge, as they let out a screech, "AH!" grasping at their own face. "ANOTHER PRETTY BOY, THEY'RE ALWAYS AFTER ME~!" They screamed, horrified.
Takemichi winced at their volume, their cries nonsensical.
As their screams slowly subsided, Takemichi huffed immaturely with puffed cheeks, and motioned for them to listen, which they reluctantly did.
Finally, Takemichi opened his mouth, "Are you acquainted with Tanjiro Kamado?" the long-haired blonde inquired the other in broken Japanese.
The boy stiffened and looked at him with dull eyes. "Huh?" He let out an emotionless sentence. "Tanjiro, yes, I do; he left me here." Then he shivered. "Ngh, he's probably going to yell at me when I get back," he whined.
Takemichi stroked his chin, unsure; he'd never seen Tanjiro angry at him, so why would he be angry at the other?
The other slayer glanced at him. "H-hey, did you tend to my infection?" he asked. Takemichi jumped, having been startled, before he tilted in head confused, before brightening in realisation and nodded.
"O-oh, wow, you're really good; I thought I'd die from it!" exclaimed the boy, his yellow haori distorting as he moved. Takemichi flushed again at the compliment, still unaccustomed to it, and nodded affirmatively, "Y-you're welcome."
Takemichi looked up at him and said, "I-I saw what you did; you're strong t-too!" He shakily reassured the other, who also blushed at the praise in return.
They curled in on themselves and said, "Gh-R-really?" He questioned, tears welling up in his eyes, and Takemichi felt tears well up in his as well as he nodded.
The boy laughed, "Wow, you're really nice, uh-" "Takemitchy!" "Takemitchy-kun."
He pressed a hand to his own chest as they waited for help to arrive: "My name is Zenitsu Agatsuma." He—Agatsuma-san—smiled softly and almost sadly.
Just as they were about to figure out a way get down, a soft flutter of fabric hit Zentisu's ears, causing him to look up.
The stranded two stared to the dark night sky as a butterfly the size of a human glided down elegantly, their shoes mutely tapping the wooden planks.
"Yoo-hoo!" The girl called out above them, hands curling around her mouth. She called out again, "Are you two all right?"
Takemichi nodded at her affirmatively, and she chuckled in response, "Ah~ That's great now-" the girl spoke, before cutting herself off, staring to where Zenitsu was and-
Takemichi blinked and rubbed his eyes before looking at the other blonde—who was slumped onto the rooftop, now pale and passed out.
She pressed a hand to her mouth, eyebrows upturned in worry. "Oh, dear..." she muttered, and Takemichi huffed again, this time in exasperation at the other newbie slayer.
His hand moved to rub his cold nose, a soft wet feeling trickling down it. As he pulled his fingers up to look at them, he noticed red blood.