CW: mentioned suicide, and manga spoilers for anime watchers!
01.
Like a Sunshower
bury me shallow, I'll be back
.
(Japan, Late Meiji Period, 189X - 190X)
Two days after their father's funeral, Kagaya finally tracks down his wayward brother.
The Ubuyashiki Estate is a maze of silvery silence and sliding doors, perfect for his brother to hide away in some undiscovered corner. Kagaya does not fault him for it. None of their siblings do. After all, it was Katsuya who found their father's cold body, hanging from the rafters in one of the many storerooms. A gruesome sight according to the whispers among the maids, the details thankfully left out.
So they gave him space. Mother leaves plates of rice-balls out along the corridors, and Kyoya-aniue adds bits of sweets whenever he thinks no-one is looking. It's only when Kagaya starts spotting little finger-holes in the paper doors close to the floor and bits of flower petals arranged into smiley-faces on the shelves that he puts his book down to follow. It leads him into the courtyard and through the back gardens, down the hidden path where wisteria flowers hang overhead in a kaleidoscope of lavender, growing thicker and thicker with each of his steps until it almost blocks out the sun, slips of paper talisman painting their trunks.
When he emerges into the clearing, squinting at the rows and rows of overlapping gravestones glistening under the sun, there's a single wisteria tree looming over them all like a picturesque centerpiece. And his brother is there, tucked against its roots.
His skin is pale. He's still in his mourning clothes. He is a monochrome respite in all this awful bright.
"Katsuya-aniue," Kagaya calls. He steps gingerly over the roots and undergrowth. Katsuya doesn't twitch, doesn't respond. A Seal of Sight is plastered on his forehead, hanging over his eyes.
His brother is quiet even as Kagaya reaches him, but he wordlessly holds up his arm and Kagaya takes the chance to squeeze into his side. Tucking against him, Kagaya pulls his knees up to compromise for the space. Katsuya's hand comes to rest around his shoulders, and they sit together, the faint afternoon sun washing over them like the early spring-rain.
"...Katsuya-aniue," Kagaya tries again. The frost from the last season has not melted in full yet, but his brother is warm. He's gently pulled closer to him as if in response to his shivers. "Mother is worried about you."
An exhale of air. Then, "...How many times do I have to remind you," as a hand comes down on his head, ruffling him hard. He can't help but yelp from the sudden force. "Just Katsu is fine. None of that aniue-bullshit."
"Don't let mother hear you or she'll feed you a bar of soap again," Kagaya winces. Then pouts, because that's unacceptable. "You're older than me. Of course I have to call you that!"
"We're literally just three minutes apart," Katsuya deadpans, no doubt rolling his eyes under the paper seal.
But Kagaya is nothing but persistent, an instinctive habit when they've both gone through this same song and dance over and over again. "Then Katsu-aniue."
"Just Katsu will do."
"Katsu-ani-sama."
"Just Katsu."
"...Katsu-niisan."
"Brat," Katsuya finally turns to look at him, tugging the seal off to narrow his eyes at him, the corner of his lips quirked in that exasperated way he does when Kagaya's caught stealing his sweets. But he is smiling for the first time in a week, and Kagaya takes that as a victory. "Fine, if you really have to, then Katsu-nii will do. None of those honorific-nonsense. I'll fucking throw myself into a pond if I have to remember another one of Nana-san's lessons."
"If Nana-san hears you she'll throw you into the pond herself," he sighs. She's their third Etiquette and Language tutor of the year, and Katsuya's mouth has already driven her close to the edge from quitting. Kazuya-aniue has already given up on correcting him. Mother too, but only because Katsuya promised her to never cuss around guests.
"God I fucking wish that were me," Katsuya grumbles. He smooths up the hair from his forehead to stick the seal back on again; mother's brushstrokes are crisp and elegant, the swirling red ink stark against the piece of white paper in the shape of an eye.
"Are you spying on the new recruits again?"
"Not spying, god, you make me sound so suspicious." Katsuya huffs. "Just watching. They're doing that gourd exercise again. Did you know that this breathing thing can apparently make you run faster?"
It can. Total Concentration Breathing, Jigorou-san had humored him once, after one of the Hashira meetings to answer all his questions with nothing but good-natured amusement. Where one draws in the maximum amount of oxygen in order to raise their physical and mental abilities to their utmost limits. Why, Kagaya-sama, care to join us? We'll be happy to teach you if you'd like, hahaha!
"It can clod blood and slow poison too," Kagaya slyly adds, recalling the retired Pillar's words.
It does the trick. Katsuya whips around to look at him, wide-eyed excitement plastered on full. "Fuck off- no way!"
"If you sat in during the meetings you'll get to talk to some of the Pillars too," he pats his brother's knee. "They're always willing to share. Nobu-san definitely would."
Katsuya rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, a faint blush blooming across the skin under his fingers. "No way, Kagamachi. They're just- No way," he gushes. "If I had to talk to one of them I'll probably explode on the spot, and then Kuuya- the bastard will never let me live it down!"
Their second-eldest brother would also announce it immediately if he ever learns about Katsuya's admiration of the Pillars, which would cement the resulting seppuku from his flailing twin. And because Kagaya would lose a reliable source of candy should it happen, he will save his brother from the embarrassment by keeping his secret.
(Katsuya had made him swear on his life, back when Kagaya had found him peering over the walls to the training yard a bit before their second birthday. It wasn't necessary when Kagaya owes him for the number of times he covered him up during their snack heists. Not that he will admit it.
And besides, it's just plain rude to disclose a secret that wasn't his to share. Mother has taught them better manners than that.)
"...Hey Kaga," Katsuya says, snapping him out of his thoughts. His brother gazes into the distance, lightly pressing on the seal. "Is there a Hashira meeting today?"
Now that he mentioned it- "Yes, mother had requested for it to be moved forward." Kagaya recalls. Then, tentatively, "...it's to brief everyone on what to expect, after… father's passing."
The familiar sting of tears pinches around his eyes, and Kagaya blinks them away. There's no way to sugarcoat this; Father has broken one of the iron codes of the Ubuyashiki Clan. As the current matriarch, mother will have to step in to run damage control. It wouldn't be pleasant; not just for the Hashira, but for their family too.
Everything is still so fresh, so raw. Kagaya spares a glance at his brother, but Katsuya merely hums in response. "No wonder they're gathering in the courtyard," he tucks away the seal, pulling himself up to his feet before holding a hand out to Kagaya. A slight quirk sits on the corner of his lips.
"Let's go then. Ma will have our heads if we're late."
.
.
Ubuyashiki Kagaya is born the fifth in-line to inherit his family's legacy. His father, Ubuyashiki Kenya, was a kind man who spoke with a smooth tenor that rings like a clear bell across the courtyard. In Kagaya's memory, his voice never wavered, never ran hoarse, which is impressive when Kagaya sometimes hears him crying for the entire night, low and keening, followed by his mother's light padding across wooden floors.
Ubuyashiki Kenya dies at the tender age of nineteen, taking his life with his own hands, the tragic consequence of a bleeding heart broken too many times. He leaves behind a grieving wife, and five young sons with milk still on their breaths.
Contrary to most beliefs, the Ubuyashiki quintuplets are… not actually quintuplets, despite their uncanny similarities to each other. No, they are actually two sets of siblings a year apart. And one of them will one day inherit and lead the Demon Slayer Corps in the thousand-year-war against Demonkind.
(In one-many-infinite universes, their memory will be erased, burned from existence alongside half of the estate from an explosion, a carefully laid trap made for the Demon King himself.)
There's Kazuya, Kuuya and Kyoya, the triplets, who smiles and laughs and nags in Kagaya's fleeting memories. Then there's Katsuya, older twin brother to Kagaya by two minutes and forty-six seconds. Who never sits still, who gardens with Mother and reads with Kazuya-nii. He sings ballads and rhymes along with Kuuya-nii as they both run from a fuming Kyoya-nii, sticking their tongues out and blowing raspberries in sync. He skips Hashira meetings no matter how much he's nagged at afterwards, but Kagaya covers his tracks because he sneaks him sugar-candy whenever no one's looking.
But today, Katsuya sits in a perfect seiza next to him, back ramrod-straight, quiet and still. They're side by side to Kazuya-nii's left, with Kuuya and Kyoya on the other side. Mother is in front of them all as she bows, lowering her head until it rests against the floor, spilling apologies and prayers off her tongue to the frozen Pillars kneeling before them in the courtyard.
"Chihiro-sama!" One of them protests, and it breaks them out of their stupor. Like cresting waves of the ocean, they rise from their seats in twos and threes. Even the retired Water Hashira is here; Urokodaki-san sweeps forward onto the engawa to pull their mother up by her sleeves.
Kagaya keeps his face painfully neutral, despite the hitch in his chest, and focuses on the warmth of Katsuya's arm where his own is pressed against.
"Chihiro-sama," Urokodaki-san says, low and smooth, the barest hint of distress in his undertone behind his tengu mask. "Chihiro-sama, you have no need to- it is none of your fault, please raise your head-"
"It is," Mother says, voice cracking but firm, cutting off any protest. "It is. We have failed in our duty and broken the sacred code, and it is only right for me to ask for forgiveness on behalf of Kenya."
A series of pained inhales sweep across the group. Kagaya watches, catalogs each instance, each click of the jaw and clenched fists among the Pillars. His own eyes burn with unshed tears.
"Do not say that, Chihiro-sama!" Ryota-san hisses, grief and anger and something akin to shame in the Rain Hashira's voice.
Urokodaki-san finally pulls Mother up, both hands digging into her sleeves as he holds her steady. "Oyakata-sama would be rolling in his grave if he's watching over us now. It is not your fault- it is never your fault. Nor Oyakata-sama's. Not for this."
Then he lets go, shifts back, and knocks his forehead into the ground right in front of her, mirroring her bow from before. All the Pillars do, all at once. They lower themselves in sync into the same position, bending so low to press onto the ground with no mind to the gravel and sand.
"Never on you, Chihiro-sama." Comes the somber, low baritone of the Flower Hashira.
"Oyakata-sama would be rightfully ashamed of us!" Says the Flame Hashira, choking on his words. His fingers are turning white from how hard they're clenched into the ground.
"The blame lies entirely on us alone." Urokodaki-san murmurs.
"No, no- get up. Get up, you fools," Mother hisses. And this time it's her turn to surge forward, to pull at Urokodaki-san's sleeves, to raise her voice over at the rest of them. "It is not on you. Kenya would never blame it on you- never. You hear me? He would never-"
There's a hand on his trembling thigh. "Breathe with me," Katsuya murmurs, and Kagaya obeys. He curls his own hand over his brother's, inhales and exhales in steady intervals, feeling Katsuya do the same. Until his body stops shaking and the tears recede behind his eyelids.
Kagaya knows the importance to keep their composure at times like this. Morale in the Corps is at an all time low, rumors of the truth of their father's passing already spreading through their ranks like wildfire. As the acting Corps Commander, Mother already has her hands full in quelling the rising-dissension despite help from Kuuya and Kouya-nii, and gentle Kuzuya-nii has steeled himself in preparation as the current heir to their father's legacy. It's the least Kagaya can do, to show his support by swallowing his grief for the time being. There's a better time and place later.
Still, he is exhausted by the time the meeting is dismissed. Katsuya too, who had to pull himself up with the door frame before reaching a hand out to Kagaya, steadying him from how wobbly his legs are, numb from the seiza.
"C'mon," Katsuya whispers. Kagaya follows his gaze to catch their Mother's eyes, where she is quietly conversing with Urokodaki-san. She gives a single nod, and then Kagaya is being pulled along as they slip out the side-doors.
He only starts breathing again once they're a good distance away and tucked around a corner. Katsuya presses a pouch into his palms. Upon opening, little pieces of konpeito candy spills out into Kagaya's hands like multi-colored stars. "You look like you're gonna pass out," He says. "Get some sugar in you before you do."
"Only if you eat some too," Kagaya smiles.
Katsuya rolls his eyes, but he catches the piece of candy with his mouth when Kagaya flicks one at him.
Some of the Hashiras are still here, lingering in the courtyard and mingling among each other. There's the short-haired Harata Saito who carries no less than four hidden tantos on her at all times. Water Hashira Kawakami Jun, golden-haired and blue-eyed; a master swordsman from a distant samurai clan who wields his nagamaki as smooth as flowing water. Uchiyama Fuyuko, a red-haired lady who cannot hear but has the highest kill-count among the current group, whose senses are so sharp that no demons can escape her blade. Fujiwara Nobu, a tall man with a gentle voice that does not undermine his ruthlessness in a battle; a seemingly common trait among all Flower Hashiras throughout each generation.
"Has Shichiro-san and Ryota-san left already?" Kagaya murmurs, a statement to himself more than a question. The seldom-seen Wind Hashira and Rain Hashira has been awfully busy for the past few seasons. Even the Flame Hashira Rengoku-san is gone, no doubt already departing for his next mission.
"How you keep track of all their names is beyond me."
"You can describe their faces from memory, nii-san. You're already halfway there."
"Human faces are easy to tell apart, Kagayamatachi. Names are not. Pretty sure you just have freaky strong memorization skills." Katsuya pops another candy into his mouth. "Not an insult of course, it's very impressive-"
"Ah, Kagaya-sama!" Comes a jolly bellow before he can finish. Retired Roaring Hashira Jigorou-san stops beside them, digging his walking stick into the soil with a sharp crack. His grin is as bright as his yellow kimono as his gaze lands on them. "And Katsuya-sama too, how long has it been? Still sneaking away from the meetings?"
To anyone else, Katsuya is the picture perfect look of a cheeky, mischievous kid. "Yo, old man!" He greets, flicking a mock salute at him. But Kagaya knows better. There's a pinch near his eyes that Katsuya does when he's nervous, no doubt excited at the chance to speak with a Pillar. "And you can't prove anything yet!"
"Ha!" Jigorou-san chortles. "That's what I'd like to hear!"
"Jigorou-san." Kagaya greets, whapping his brother lightly on the shoulders. "For the sake of our mother and our siblings, please do not encourage him."
"Hey!"
"You know I'm right," Kagaya sighs. "Also, watching via the Kasugai Crows doesn't count. Asuka has been complaining about you overworking him."
"Oh c'mon," Katsuya merely waves a hand, mirth twinkling in his eyes. "All that exercise is good for him with how fat he's getting. At the rate he's going we'll end up with a Kasugai Chicken instead."
Which is true, considering that Kagaya himself has been sneaking him kitchen scraps because he has a soft spot for the birds. But his brother doesn't need to know that.
"Please don't let him hear you calling him that."
"You know I'm right!"
A chuckle cuts in to their banter. Jigorou-san's eyes are soft as he looks upon them, in stark contrast to the fierce aura his bushy eyebrows usually does for him. "It's good to see the both of you in such spirits," he says, half-leaning against the ledge of the engawa. "I hope you boys are faring well. It has not been an easy season."
It has not. For both their family and the Corps too; Demon attacks has been on the rise in recent years, almost as if in response to the rumors of the Emperor's failing health. They've lost two Hashiras in the span of eight months, their positions yet to be filled, and several upstanding recruits to an unexpected ambush along one of their routes.
"Thank you," Kagaya says. "And it warms my heart to see you still around too, Jigorou-san. May Amaterasu shine over you in the coming days."
Jigorou-san blinks. Then shifts his walking stick to his other hand, reaching forward towards Kagaya. The hand that rests on his head is warm and calloused. "It seems just like yesterday when you were both just a couple of wee-babes in your mother's arms." He smiles. Up this close, the scar under his left eye crinkles with the quirk of his lips. "Your brothers too, already up and running the corps. Oyakata-sama would have been proud of you."
Kagaya opens his mouth to deny it, to say that he is still learning the ropes, that he's still coming to terms about everything that has happened. Wants to say that it'll be a long way before he is as wise as Kazuya, focused as Kuuya, or determined like Kyoya. Katsuya too, who still knows how to smile even in times like this. And that's not even including Mother's sharp judgment and Father's kindness. He's only barely passed his second birthday, and there's already the weight of the world upon his shoulders.
But he finds that he can't say anything. Because Jigorou-san's words are true, because he knows instinctively that father was proud of them all, no matter their achievements. The meaning behind your name is to Shine, Mother once told him, because you'll always be the light of his life.
(Their father was a sentimental man, who had carefully picked each of their names respectively to what he had hoped for his children. Kazuya, Kuuya and Kyoya; To Peace, to the Expanding Sky, to the Coming Dawn. Katsuya and Kagaya; to Victory, and to Shine. Perhaps it was this softness that resulted in his downfall, but Kagaya can never fault him for it.)
"He wouldn't want us to wallow around like this too," Jigorou-san pops a stolen candy into his mouth, pulling himself up to his feet. There's a wistfulness from the light catching in his eyes. "I suppose I have to hurry up and train a successor. There's an uptick in recruits these days- hopefully they'll forgive me for being harsh on them." He tilts a glance back at them, nodding. "Thank you for listening to this sentimental old man, waka-sama. May Amaterasu's light watch over you and your family."
Kagaya watches him go. It's faint, but the exhaustion clinging onto the retired Hashira's back seemed to weigh him down with each step, a dragging gait of his peg leg. It occurs to him that among the casualties of the ambush months ago includes Jigorou-san's student; Akimitsu Yuu, a soft-spoken but hardworking boy who once may have the potential to reach Tsuguko.
Something shifts in his peripheral vision. Jigorou-san makes it to the willow tree before his brother cups his cheeks, and speaks up from beside him:
"They will, Jigorou-san," Katsuya's voice rings clear across the courtyard. "Your students adore you. He'll be your pride and joy."
One any other occasion, the words would sound like a common reassurance. But something in Katsuya's tone makes Kagaya turn to look at him, taking in his expression; his brother's eyes are firm and sharp, posture straight as he leans forward, holding Jigorou-san's gaze. There's a conviction burning as sure as fire in his voice. As if he is simply speaking the truth.
Kagaya bites onto his tongue.
"Oh?" Jigorou-san raises an eyebrow. "Is that the famed Ubuyashiki Foresight talking?"
Katsuya flashes an outstretched fist, first and middle finger raised and parted in a strange V-like shape. "Call it a gut feeling."
Jigorou-san laughs at that, a deep and hearty chuckle from his chest. "I appreciate it, Katsuya-sama. I hope to see you both again in five months."
Later, long after he's gone, Kagaya leans against his brother and rolls a piece of candy in his fingers. "How do you know?" He can't help but ask.
Katsuya merely shrugs, a tiny smile on his lips, as if he's keeping a secret. "Like I said; just a gut feeling."
.
.
Their lessons increase thrice-fold in the following weeks, after all is said and done.
Kagaya is awed to discover the number of topics they were already exposed to. Basic arithmetic, language and writing are a given, but politics and history too, supplemented from their time shadowing their mother in her daily routines since birth. He shouldn't be surprised; perhaps the both of their parents planned it this way, keeping the load light while also ensuring that no ugly surprises awaited them on the other side.
The youngest master in their long-line of family history was fifteen, and in the wake of their father's passing none of the Ubuyashiki siblings are ready to take over in full yet. But Kazuya sits in front of them all during strategy meetings, as calm as stone. He listens and provides his inputs, while Mother only cuts in when it's necessary. The rest of them flank behind him, spreaded out like migrating birds dressed in colorful kimonos.
It's the only time Kagaya gets to see his all siblings in one place, after they've been divided into two groups to maximize efficiency in their accelerated homeschooling. Together, they sit and learn.
(Katsuya wasn't quite the same after that tragic morning. A little sharper, a little bit more. But he still disappears before any of the Hashira debriefs, much to Mother's headache. But Asuka, their family crow, is always somewhere in the vicinity. For all that he complains, he still carries a Seal of Sight with him each time Kagaya spots him among the trees.)
The only new additions include Estate Planning and Finance, broken down into digestible bits by their tutors sent by the priest clans. Kazuya, Kyuuya and Kyoya pick up swordsmanship, tiny hands and tinier feet adjusted by selected masters, while Katsuya and him opt out.
The shame eats at him each night. As much as Kagaya would like to, the first time he was given a sword his fingers were cold and clammy as his heart pounded in his ears, like the roar of a waterfall. The guilt stays the same despite how much Katsuya assured him that he enjoys keeping him company instead of learning the way of the blade.
Mother does not force him, does not force any of them to, merely patting them on their heads before steering them away to another room.
"Everyone has their strengths," she tells them, pouring three cups of tea. Katsuya sips at his while Kagaya lets his warm his hands. "There is no shame in discovering your weaknesses and to redirect them to something else."
Then she resumes her lessons on Demonology, and the family art of Onmyōjutsu.
The Ubuyashiki, since declaring war against the Demon King centuries ago, has allied with many Onmyōji clans in their mission. With their names kept in utmost secrecy to prevent spies from sniffing them out, their families had intermingled together, marrying into and out of each other. And with the priests comes their Onmyōjutsus; each clan having their respective specialty seals that took several generations to perfect, all of which had gathered together over the centuries into a set of what is now known as the Ubuyashiki Ofudas.
The clan where Mother came from specialized in a set of them. They called it the Gokanfuda, the Five Senses Seal. Shikaku, Kyuukaku, Choukaku, Mikaku, and Shokkaku , or Sight, Smell, Hearing, Taste, and Touch; the very seals that the Kasugai Crows were bred alongside for. The ink used to draw them are prepared from a slab of special inkstone bathed under sunlight for no less than a hundred and ninety-two hours, mixed with a drop of blood from the family. But each seal has its own variation of brushwork and design, and Mother drills them in all of them in equal measures. She does not stop until they can draw one in a single unbroken brushstroke while blindfolded.
Katsuya loves them, despite not being very good at it. His handwriting is neat, but he adds too many looping strokes that disrupts the seal.
"Ma's so cool, but not as cool as the Pillars, of course. No offense." He beams, waving a needle around. They're seated by the engawa and sewing uniforms, the late summer breeze cooling the hot tea and handmade Karintō, courtesy from the swordsmiths a week ago.
Kagaya traces his fingers over his half-finished stitches. It's tradition for members of the Ubuyashiki family to embroider new uniforms and blessing them before distributing it to the slayers. 滅, it says on the backs of their members. Or metsu, an archaic term for destroy. A symbol of gratitude and good-luck, the very least that they can do when they're sending able-bodied men to fight on the frontlines on their behalf.
(Like the swordsmiths who carves akki Messatsu to each of their forged blades, the words 惡鬼滅殺 flashing when one tilts the blade at a certain angle; the last thing any demons would see before it sinks into their necks. Destroyer of Demons, Kagaya had traced the carvings on an incomplete sword when they were shadowing mother on a trip to the village, memorizing its strokes. It's both a warning and a promise, born from the shared determination of their ancestors.)
"Are you insulting your own mother, you ungrateful idiot!" Asuka says, perched on his shoulder, feathers half-ruffled from the earlier drizzle. "And take a break already! All that hunching isn't good for your flimsy back!"
"Aww, Asukatamawara," Katsuya simpers in a sing-song. "Is that concern I'm hearing?"
"I hope you choke on your tea, you bastard."
Kagaya stifles a laugh. They've been at it since breakfast; their older siblings are busy elsewhere in their efforts to support the corps, while Mother is preparing for the blessing ceremony. I used to be a shrine maiden before I met your father, a small smile on her lips in his memory, I was one of the best at performing the cleansing dance.
Katsuya has already finished five sets; each kanji sharp and neat, cloth pulled taut within their embroidery hoops. He takes to the maiden arts like a duck to water, the fastest out of them all. His shamisen skills are catching up to Kyuuya's koto, as are his steady hands in makeup and painting lips, though his manners and etiquette are as crude as ever.
Still, Mother is very pleased. May the arts ward off bad luck from you, my loves. And they are quite fun, a different sort of pace from your usual lessons, don't you agree?
He does. Kagaya is also happy that his brother has found joy in something; he himself has discovered a fondness for raising and breeding Kasugai Crows.
"Again, nii-san," Kagaya says, threading another needle into his stitch. "It doesn't have to be the meetings. You'll get to speak with them even during the occasional debriefs. Jigorou-san would be happy to see you again."
"No way!" Katsuya half-yells, Asuka squawking along to a flurry of beating feathers. "I was already dying when Jigorou-san walked up to us that one time. I don't think I can handle my excitement and they'll all think I'm a weirdo."
"You're already a weirdo," says Asuka, followed by the telltale crumble of him pecking at a half-eaten Karintō. "You make me spy on them almost every day."
"How many times do I have to- It's not spying! There's nothing wrong with admiration from afar. And I usually just have you just take a peak on the new trainees too!"
"Still a weirdo, but okay." A shuffle. "By the way, your breathing pattern is off, stupid."
"Oh shit, really?"
"No shit, dumbass. You're off by one second and you don't stretch out your stomach enough." Asuka squawks, batting a wing over what's probably Katsuya's head, judging from the thump. He hops over to Kagaya, climbing onto his shoulder. "C'mon, Kagacchi-sama, show him how it's done."
"Oh, so he gets a Kagacchi-sama while I'm stuck with idiot and stupid and dumbass." Katsuya deadpans. "You traitor. I'm disowning you as my partner."
"Bold of you to assume you have a choice. But I might reconsider if you get me some of Chihiro-sama's crumb-cakes."
"Asukacchi, my love. At this rate you're gonna get too fat to fly."
"Die, you diagonally-sleeping bi-"
"Alright, alright," Kagaya breaks up the argument before it escalates into another tussle yet again. He sets his needle and pincushions to the floor, tucking his legs under him. "...I am unsure if my breathing is correct, though. Are you sure about this?"
"It's not perfect, but it is close." Asuka says. "I will correct you as you go."
"Okay then." Kagaya inhales. He has only started learning Total Concentration Constant alongside Katsuya just recently. "C'mon, Kagatama," his brother had grinned, pleading with him for a week when he has found out that it can strengthen the body. "Maybe it'll help us- can't stay weak forever, y'know, when you become the Corps Commander."
"It seems unlikely, as much as I hope it would." Kagaya had told him then.
"Psh, no harm in trying, right?" Katsuya lightly baps him on the head. "Come spend some time with your favorite older brother."
Kagaya had rolled his eyes good-naturedly at him. "We already spend all our time together," he said, just to have Katsuya put a dramatic hand on his chest before flopping onto the floor. But Kagaya sits and Breathes with him afterwards, trying to make each other break concentration through making funny faces.
It was hard, at first. Total Concentration Constant demands both physical endurance and the discipline to maintain the training, and it had left him trembling and gasping in cold sweat on multiple occasions. It's the reason why recruits run laps and lift weights. The moment you break your streak, the harder it will be when you try to resume.
But Kagaya has persisted with the routine together with his brother for four months now. His body always has been frail, but Katsuya had let him piggyback on him as they jog around the compound, Breathing as Kagaya recites the history of Nichirin swords and cremation rituals to him. Perhaps it's thanks to the fresh air and practice, but Kagaya's record is up to forty minutes now, an hour if he pushes himself. So the familiar burn that blooms in his lungs as he begins is nothing but an afterthought.
So he straightens his back, closes his eyes, and steels his core. Taking a long breath in with his nose, then out through his mouth, Kagaya focuses on the cool air filling his lungs in a rotating cycle.
"You've gotten better," Asuka beeps into his left ear. "But you're not using the whole of your lungs. Take a deeper breath. Hold it for a few seconds longer before letting them go. Put your whole body into it- you should be feeling the air reach your diaphragm."
He obeys, tweaking his stance to each of Asuka's points. It's a bizarre feeling, twenty minutes in; the muscles around his neck and back loosens considerably, and the clear beat of his heart echoes in his ears. The stiffness in his fingers fade, leaving only a faint burning at their tips.
"Enough," Asuka says, and Kagaya eases himself from Concentration to regular breathing. By the time he opens his eyes, he feels refreshed, his vision sharp and clear. The drowsiness from before is gone, though he is sweatier and dampier than before. Ew.
Asuka hops off his shoulders. "Hope you caught all of that, idiot."
"So it basically comes down to using your lungs and body in its entirety, huh." Katsuya rubs his fingers on his chin. His gaze is tacked onto Kagaya's chest, considering and thinking.
"Of course you have to put your entire back into it. Your body is a closed-circuit and all that nasty fluids and organs are working together to keep you alive." Asuka squawks, throwing his wings up in a manner akin to unimpressed exasperation. "Stop wasting them and use them all!"
"I'm sure you'll grasp it soon, nii-san," Kagaya smiles. "I have no doubts that you will."
"You think so?" Katsuya beams at him. "Thank you!"
Of course Kagaya believes in him. Out of all their siblings, Katsuya has the stubbornest persistency. He pushes and keeps going, and when things isn't working out he doesn't give up, instead circling around to work at it in another angle, trying something new each time. Failure does not scare him. Instead, it propels him forward out of spite.
…and Katsuya can already maintain Total Concentration Constant for up to three hours at this point, despite the minor adjustments needed. Whether its out of determination or sheer spite against Asuka, Kagaya does not know. But it has done its job as an effective motivator, so there's nothing to complain about.
"Of course, nii-san," Kagaya nods, returning his grin. "Now let's finish up the rest of the uniforms, or Mother would have our heads."
"Shit, yeah- oh fuck it's almost eight -"
.
.
All in all, it's a slow yet busy year.
Kagaya goes to sleep each night, exhaustion weighing on his mind, but the fulfillment and satisfaction of mastering a subject or another minute added to his breathing presses sweet in his dreams. His confidence and resolve grows stronger, his voice firmer each time he speaks up during discussions and mock-political debates. His mind runs smooth like a thawing river, his thoughts clearier with each passing day.
(And if he sometimes catches Katsuya up in the middle of the night pushing through Breathing to the point he's gasping on the floor and half-throwing up, well. He says nothing but leaves water and snacks by the engawa.)
Then their brothers die the following summer, and he doesn't know what to do anymore.
.
.
An accident, Asuka had reported. It was, supposingly, an arranged trip to one of their many operations. Not even the details had been disclosed to Kagaya, the only information he knows is that it has something to do with overseeing the cultivation of medical herbs from a brief chat with Kuuya.
Their bodies were found at the bottom of the cliff along one of their lesser known routes, scattered among the rocks and river, and the retrieval team had to cremate them immediately before the dying rays of sunlight disappeared into the trees.
He can't think. He can't breathe.
(-Kuuya, his brother, the second oldest. Who smiles as bright as the sun and laughs as loud as ringing bells. Who plays his koto whenever Katsuya asked. He can play just about any song just from listening once, or compose a new one entirely from the few notes Katsuya hums for him. He burns his tongue easily from hot soup but he doesn't stop, because Mother's miso soup is his favorite-
-Kazuya, the eldest, the gentlest voice out of them all, who is unable to wake before dawn without Kyoya's help. Once, he shut himself in the estate library for half a day, memorizing their entire section of medical and herbal records, all to nurse a spider back to health from it's broken leg. He nearly cries when it wriggled across his hands as he releases it into the garden. Kuuya never stops teasing him about it-
-and Kyoya, the youngest out of the triplets, who's internal body clock is so impressive he rises with the sun. What isn't so fun is that he tends to wake the rest of them up by yanking their blankets from them, then chases them to breakfast. He has the best form out of them all in seiza, and always corrects Kagaya's with a nudge of his hand as they sat behind father during meetings. He's the one who can drag Katsuya to these meetings too, no matter how hard Katsuya hides-
All of them gone, just like that.)
The timeline is too coincidental, too suspicious. No one except for the immediate family and the inner ranks would have known that the carriage was making a detour through the mountain pass instead of around the farmlands on purpose, varying their routes to make sure there are no ambushable patterns. Kagaya suspected foul play; someone must had fed information to the outside. There is a mole in their ranks and he doesn't know what to do.
Mother realized it too, as sharp as ever.
"My loves," she says. She's seated before them in the inner sanctum of the Estate, kimono as impeccable as always with her hands folded neatly across her lap. "Perhaps it is time you learn the family history."
She tells them about the Curse. She tells them that all boys born into the Ubuyashiki clan always died, leaving only one successor. Girls too, must be married and change their surnames by the age of thirteen, otherwise they will die in accidents or from illness, no matter how careful they are. She tells them that everyone in the family always married young, because no one has ever passed the age of twenty-six. Thirty, if they're lucky.
"The dead are dead," Mother says, not unkind. "Honor them, remember them. But you cannot shackle yourself to them. You breathe, you move on, you move past them," she inhales. "You move forward."
Her voice is low and warm and soothing, but it does nothing to the numbness growing in his chest. All Kagaya focuses on is leaving only one successor, the words repeating over and over again in his mind.
Only one successor.
Only one.
"Oh." Katsuya blinked. He sips on his tea, shifting in Kagaya's peripheral vision. "Huh, alright then."
"You're taking this remarkably well," Mother eyes him.
Katsuya shrugged, setting his cup aside. "I have a lot of feelings, Ma. There's only so much more I can fit in here. I'll freak out later."
Her eyes soften. It hits Kagaya for the first time how exhausted she looks, the circles under her eyes gaunt against her too sharp cheekbones. She takes their wrists, slender fingers curled around each hand. Then she's pulling them into a hug, Katsuya's weight pressing into his side at the same time.
"No matter what happens," Mother says. "Remember this; hesitation is defeat. Hold firm to your own values and never fear failure. Treat each breath you take as if they're your last, and live each day to your fullest."
She tucks her chin onto his head, and rubs gentle circles onto Kagaya's back. Kagaya instinctively brings his own arms to wrap around her. There is an uncertainty, a desperation, now that he's aware of the mark of death looming over them all.
"And I will always love the both of you." Mother murmurs into his ears. "Nothing will change that."
His fingers bunch up in her tidy kimono, crumpling the ornate fabric.
"I am so, so proud of you."
.
.
Later, when they're rolling out the mattresses, Katsuya says, "So, uh, can we have a talk?"
"What is it?" Kagaya ask. It feels like cotton has invaded his mind, soft and muted and suffocating, the pressure pressing in from all sides. His eyes hurt. Mother had sent them to bed early and they have some time to spare before they have to sleep. They have to tag along with her in the morning for an audience with the Kakushi.
Katsuya rubs the back of his neck. "I'm not sure if it's a good time, but I feel like if I don't get to speak with you now I'll never get the chance to. We'll be pretty busy for the rest of the week."
Something sinks in his stomach, but Kagaya nods. "Sure, nii-san."
"Alright," Katsuya says. He opens his mouth, closes it, glances to the side then back at him, and blurts: "The Demon King cannot die from beheading."
Kagaya blinks. Opens his mouth, but Katsuya continues.
He talks about how the Demon King- Muzan, has the ability to shapeshift; from man to woman, young and old, and he turns humans into demons by gifting them his blood. Too little, and the resulting demons will be weak. Too much, and they'll die from toxic shock. The ones who survive the process are strong, and most if not all are among the Lower and Upper Moon rank. Muzan desires the power to walk under the sun, and he has been experimenting for centuries, searching for the perfect demon or the mythical Blue Spider Lily to serve his purpose.
Muzan has seven hearts and five brains, which he can shift their locations within his body at will. He has the ability to read minds, the thoughts of demons who share his blood. He can transfer his consciousness into another, can talk to them through his mind alone, and can sense the location of other demons. His last name is Kibutsuji, and any demon who speaks of it will activate the curse implanted into them and die. And in twenty-or-so years' time, the Demon Slayer Corps will launch an assault on him that ends the war, but with several irreversible casualties.
Katsuya gets side-tracked two minutes in, zeroing in on how flawed some of their processes are. "Don't get me fucking started on the Final Selection Test," he grumbles. "Why are we sending kids to die for no reason? Why not assign examiners to supervise the Test? Just a squad or two or something. The ones who didn't meet the standards can try again next year, or we can simply transfer them to other divisions better suited to their needs. A recruit not strong enough to kill a demon doesn't fucking mean they're can't coordinate missions or fieldwork with the scouting squads. We're already losing people to demons, we don't need to lose more."
They'll have to revise the requirements and come up with a rotating schedule of those who are eligible to oversee the selection test. Perhaps the Hashira too, once or twice every two years, and it might let them take in promising students and even a Tsuguko.
Kagaya isn't really listening. Oh, he's taking in each point Katsuya is telling him all right, stockpiling them away into a corner of his mind. How Katsuya even knows all of this is beyond him. But his brother's voice is foggy. His own chest hurts. His legs are growing numb.
It isn't until Katsuya is halfway into a rant on how pretentious it is for the Pillars to receive an unlimited amount of wages that it hits Kagaya. That his brother is speaking as if Kagaya is the heir, the next-in-line as the Corps Commander.
"-illars have forgotten the spirit of why we're slaying demons in the first- actually no, nope, I don't really care if they're here for revenge or fame or doing good for the sake of mankind, but an unlimited wage paves way to corruption and an imbalance of power-
"Katsu-nii-san," Kagaya says. His own voice sounds distant even to himself. "What's all this?"
"Why," his brother raises an eyebrow at him and grins, soft in the candlelight. "It's for when you take over as the commander, of course."
Kagaya can't help it. He bursts into tears.
It's as if a dam is bursting from the weight of everything from the past year. The skin of his face is pulled inwards, a sort of pain flaring between his eyes and within his nose as he sobs. His cheeks are wet, his hands are sticky. He's shaking and his chest hurts, and it takes a moment for the ringing in his ears to subside enough to hear Katsuya panic, voice curving up in a pitch. There are arms wrapped around him, loose but firm, as light rhythmic pats start on his back.
"-oh shit oh fuck," Katsuya says, pressing in close as he tucks Kagaya beneath his chin. "Shh- Shhh- Why are you crying? Don't cry!"
"Stop that!" Kagaya only cries harder, and thumps on his brother's arms. He doesn't bother trying to sound coherent- he wants to punch his brother until he shuts up. "Stop saying that! You've always said when I become the heir, not if-" The words come out in fits and starts. His throat burns with the memory as hiccups claw their way out from his chest. "Stop saying that you'll die!"
"HAH?" Katsuya exclaims. "Who fucking said I'm dying?"
He sounds so genuinely confused that it snaps Kagaya out from his tears briefly to glare incredulously at his brother, despite the sobs still wrecking him. Katsuya's hair is plastered across his forehead from the sweat. "Weren't you listening to Mother earlier?"
"You mean the 'all boys will die except for one' thingy?" Katsuya raises an eyebrow. "Bold of you to assume I will meet a mortal end- oh, oh god stop that. Kaga, Kagaya, I'm sorry, shhh-"
They stay like that, Katsuya hugging him tight and rubbing circles into Kagaya's back like how Mother does. When Kagaya's sobs finally dies down to sniffles, Katsuya pats a hand on his shoulder to look at him in his eye.
"...to be honest, Kaga," Katsuya tells him. "I don't really plan to die, but we gotta be realistic in case god has other ideas for my stupid ass. It's why I'm telling you all this stuff in case the worst ever happens."
Kagaya sniffs. "How are you so calm about this?"
"No, I'm already freaking out." Katsuya scrunches. Now that he mentioned it, there's that familiar twitch under his right eye. "I just hadn't settled on any particular thing to be most freaked out by. How are you not freaking out about this? I just told you stuff about Muzan that I shouldn't even know about."
"Okay. How did you know all of this?"
Katsuya opens his mouth, shuts it, and rubs his neck. "If I told you if I sorta know what's gonna happen in the future, will you think I'm crazy?"
Kinda, if he has to be honest. But it's not something surprising. "You mean you have the Foresight already?" Kagaya raises an eyebrow. It's earlier than expected.
"Sure, let's keep it at that." Katsuya shrugs. "It's just… I can't explain it without sounding like I'm off my shits, but I just know things, alright? I saw what's gonna happen in the future, and while I don't really feel comfortable messing with fate- because we're just, what, three? I'm pissed off because some of the shitshow that's gonna come is so stupid, and I can't just sit here and let it happen."
Typical Katsuya, who can't sit still. How befitting of him.
Kagaya rolls the thought on the tip of his tongue. His cheeks are no longer wet, just slightly sticky. "Okay," he says, and Katsuya whirls around to look at him in surprise. "Alright. If our lives are really set in a certain direction- if Muzan really will die in twenty years, I think actively changing events will not turn out well. We won't be able to predict what happens after the changes."
His brother blinks at him. "You are taking this kinda well now, huh."
"The crying helped, I think. I'm just tired and angry now."
"Understandable," Katsuya nods, then scoffs. "Dying to an accident is kinda fucking stupid, so I'm not doing that. If our curse is gonna kill us eventually, then it better drag us kicking and screaming into hell itself."
Kagaya sniffs. There's the ghost of a plan already forming in his mind, a fire burning in the pits of his stomach as he digests the words. All the tears has washed away the fog, leaving nothing but clear-cut clarity. He grips Katsuya harder instead, looking at him in his eyes.
"Muzan has been a constant thorn in our side for over thousands of years," He decides then. "Either we win, or we'll die trying. And in the meantime, I guess we can be just as persistent as he is." Kagaya cocks his head, a tiny smile spreading across his lips. "We did came from the same bloodline as his, after all."
Katsuya grins, baring his teeth. "Hell yeah, Kagatachi."
.
.
They spend the following weeks talking deep into the night.
They plan, they scheme, bouncing off contingencies after contingencies each other, what-ifs and even-thens spilling faster than oil across water. Katsuya recites the issues he mentioned before; where they can change the Corps for the better, while Kagaya nods and rebutes. There is no argument, no quarreling. Just debates on strengths and weaknesses, of things to expect and consequences. They iron out enough for Kagaya to work with if he becomes the last survivor, or even Katsuya if fate decides to be a bitch.
("Why not you, though?"
"Kagakuma, look at me," Katsuya deadpanned, pointing at himself. "Which part of this looks like leader-material to you?"
"We both look the same-"
"Don't sass me now, brat. But really," Katsuya sighed. "You're resourceful and grounded. You know how to separate emotions from decisions, yet you're able to pull yourself back from the brink when things get rough. I work better with instructions- at least some of it, otherwise I'd go crazy from stress in about a year."
Like father, goes unsaid.)
The changes won't be possible yet. Or at least, not for another few years. They need funds and resources and trustworthy allies. Kagaya mulls on the groundwork, and disguises them as innocent questions during their day-lessons. The future where demons no longer terrorize mankind seemed so far away before, but now that he knows it's possible and not a fruitless dream it seems foolish to even think of giving up. That alone is enough motivation to keep him going.
And honestly, despite everything, Kagaya can't help but feel a little excited. The Pillars Katsuya had briefly described - the finest generation in centuries - sounds promising, and he's looking forward to meeting what sort of people that Katsuya actually has faith in.
("They're a bunch of goofy ass weirdos who're just really good with swords," Katsuya said. "You'll also have a wife and she's cool as hell. I think you'll both get along.")
So they eat, they sleep, they continue with their classes. Kagaya throws himself into the wonders of the art of debating, learning how to argue and deflect disguised behind a gentle smile and polite questions. He doubles down on the history of seals as he throws a wooden sword at Katsuya. "You won't survive through sheer will alone, nii-san," he sighs. "At least learn some self-defense. I have some books here on basic katas but you'll have to watch the dojo-students in the mornings for everything else. Asuka will be there."
Katsuya whistles. "I can't believe you're actually growing up to be a mastermind."
"Not yet," Kagaya winks at him, a finger on his lips. Then pushes Katsuya out to the courtyard to practice while he figures out how to sew wisteria blossoms into the seams of their kimonos.
Four months in, Kagaya hits the two hours mark for his Breathing and doesn't advance anymore, but he keeps it up alongside his brother anyways. Six months in, Katsuya finally reaches eight hours of constant Total Concentration Constant, and tells Kagaya to hit him with a broomstick if he stops when he's asleep. He lasts another two months before breaking through out of sheer will and the desperation to get one cycle of uninterrupted sleep.
Then after everything is said, after Katsuya had walked him through the events in the Future, they sit down to talk about what happens if Katsuya really survives.
To deceive Muzan, they had to deceive everyone outside of their immediate family, so all of the Demon Slayer Corps and the Hashiras must believe this lie; that Kagaya is the only one left from his generation. If Katsuya really encounters an accident or ambush and comes out of it alive, then they will make the best of the situation in order to turn the tide in this war.
"It's gonna be the longest charade of the most elaborated long-con in the war against demon history," Katsuya looks at him. "Think we can pull it off?"
Kagaya smiles. "We won't know if we don't try."
"True!" Katsuya beams. "Though I'll have to ensure that none of them will mistake me for you in case I outlive you- don't you dare die before me, you hear?"
"Or else you'll drag me out of hell to kill me?"
"Nah," Katsuya snorts. "I'll send you straight to heaven so Ma can kick your ass herself."
.
.
The official records of the deaths of Interim Corps Commander Ubuyashiki Chihiro, her son, and their three-man-guard goes like this:
Eight bodies, seven of which are unrecognizable by the time the retrieval team arrived on scene. Squad leader Minami Tsubaki of the Camellia team reported no other witnesses, and nothing was stolen from the wreckage, but there were some signs of struggle from the fractures in some of the bodies, broken arms and slashes and deep lacerations.
Ubuyashiki Chihiro was cremated separately from the rest, as it is ill-advised to transport bodies across long distances and risk demon attacks. Her ashes were scattered along the breeze across the forest floor, resting forever under Amaterasu's warm cradle.
To Kagaya, it goes like this:
One night during the late autumn season, before their scheduled bi-annual visits to the countryside plantations and farmers, Mother had held them as she sang them to sleep. Something is coming, Kagaya feels, and he commits the memory of her voice into his memory. He wakes up next morning to see them off, despite the fever and flu wrecking his body, waving as he watches their carriage disappear into the fog of the early dawn.
It's a blur, afterwards.
When the sentries at the third checkpoint reports that the carriage did not arrive despite the estimated date, teams were dispatched; slayers and investigators sent as security clamp down tight. No less than two Pillars were present at the Estate at all times. Urokodaki-san sits outside his door each night, sword in his lap as he stands guard despite Kagaya's refusal.
They find his mother three weeks later, deep in the forest surrounded by the remains of a burnt wreckage. They're charred beyond recognition, and they can only identify her by her wedding ring, tucked away beneath the remains of her kimono. His brother's body is unidentifiable among the many unrecognizable remains.
The funeral was an easy affair; Mother had arranged everything preemptively, almost as if she had predicted her fate. Her wedding ring returns to Kagaya. Jigorou-san is appointed as his chaperone and advisor alongside Urokodaki-san, as per her will, to support Kagaya until he's officially ready to inherit the position of the Corps Commander.
"Our swords are yours to command, Kagaya-sama." Jigorou-san says to him in the following meeting. His eyes are somber, but he doesn't say I'm sorry for your loss, and Kagaya is grateful. He steels his composure as he looks upon each of the Hashira in attendance, all seven of them ready and at attention.
Kagaya takes a deep, deep breath.
Seasons come and go. Kagaya moves onto advanced strategy and politics. He familiarizes himself with each branch of the Corps, catalogs down each loophole and weakness; visits and speaks to members, from slayers to scouts to janitors and tailors, and quells the growing dissertation down after three tense months. He thumbs through mission reports until their edges are frayed and yellowed, memorizes faces and names until he can recite each active corps member by memory alone, and narrows down the pool of traitors into just three groups. He gives nothing away but doubles down in secret, poking and prodding, feeling his way around for a chink in their armor while smoothing his face into a serene smile.
(You move on, Mother had said. You move forward.)
He maps out the businesses allied with the Ubuyashiki clan, and sees the potential to expand. The morning after his Foresight bloomed in his dreams, he makes plans to start investing into rice farms and crop plantations. He convinces, he negotiates, polishing his speaking and charisma with each successful contract and partnership. He doesn't stop sewing uniforms by the engawa, recalling nimble fingers on looping brushstrokes and nimbler on shamisens.
And then he receives a letter before his seventh birthday.
Kagaya is alone, tracing names on the headstones in his daily rounds. Urokodaki-san and the rest of the Hashira had excused themselves earlier, giving him space in the Estate graveyard. A Kasugai Crow flutters down before him, a sprig of wisteria around her talons. In her beak is an envelope.
There's no signature nor name. Just the faint sweet scent of wisteria, as Kagaya opens it up.
Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.
Kagaya exhales for the first time in two years. He traces the familiar handwriting once, twice, before he's laughing until tears are wetting his cheeks.
Then he's hurrying back to his study, eager to pen down a response to his lucky bastard of a brother.
.
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A/N:
TAISHO SECRETS - KATSUYA
The combination of Katsuya's vulgarities and their nuances has different meanings to them. In the future, once a certain young recruit and his demon sister has enlisted into the corps, Kagaya remains the only person who can tell them apart.
Ah Fuck = "Haha whoops."
Aw Fuck = "I can't believe you've done this"
Oh Fuck = "I've made an irreversible, fatal error."
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Additional trivia - Names
It was revealed in the databook that Kagaya's father was a sensitive man who committed suicide at 19 because he couldn't stand watching his troops getting hurt or dying. His kids were all boys, and all of them died except for Kagaya. I basically decided their names in corresponding to the meaning alongside Kagaya's.
Kenya (謙哉): humble, modest
Kazuya (和哉): peace
Kuuya (空哉): sky
Kyoya (暁哉): sun, dawn
Katsuya (勝哉): victory
Kagaya (耀哉): shine
Family crow Asuka: a double pun name. From Japanese 明日 (asu) meaning "tomorrow" and 香 (ka) meaning "fragrance", or from 飛 (asu) meaning "to fly" and 鳥 (ka) meaning "bird".
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Additional trivia - Seals
In Shinto and Buddhism in Japan, an ofuda, or its non-honorific form fuda, is a talisman made out of various materials such as paper, wood, cloth or metal. Ofuda are commonly found in both Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples and are considered to be imbued with the power of the deities or Buddhist figures revered therein. Such amulets are also called gofu (護符).
Onmyōjis in animes, unlike their boring irl-counterparts, are often portrayed as exorcists who fights demons. Onmyojutsu is what anime calls their techniques, which I borrowed. I thought it was such a shame that they didn't get to utilize the seals they use in the final battle more because of the manga's rushed plotline, so I expanded on their concept
(I know the seals came from Yushiro in canon but theres gonna be an explanation in later chapters)
Names of the seals are just kanji pronunciation of the terms in japanese.
Five senses - Gokan (五感)
Sight - shikaku (視覚)
Smell - kyuukaku (嗅覚)
Hearing - choukaku (聴覚)
Taste - mikaku (味覚)
Touch - shokkaku (触覚)
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anyways, what was supposed to be a joke idea and an experiment in writing from multiple POVs had spiraled out of my control. Kagaya has a lot of potential that couldn't be shown in canon due to the rushed plot, so here i am determined to give him scenes that actually portrays him as a competent leader instead of a constantly smiling frail Buddha. As well as side characters like Amane and Tamayo.
SIOC Katsuya is just here to vibe. mostly, i guess. we'll see :)
and finally, thanks for reading!
(I'm crossposting this from AO3, so if you'd like to catch the latest update you can find me there!)