Episode 3: The Unrelenting Demon Slayer

ONE

The old man stuck a slender, clawed pinky into his ear and picked at an itch deep in the canal. He grumbled to himself. Something about the insufferable heat of the new day, even though every day on the fringe of a live volcano was equally as hot as the day before. With a grunt he plucked his finger out of his ear, inspected the white residue on the tip of his claw, and flicked it away.

"Master Totosai, please! Are you even listening?!"

He blinked as if he had forgotten she was even there, though they had been talking only a minute before. And then recognition faded back into his features and he grunted. "Eh? Are you still here?"

"Of course I'm still here! I've come on behalf of my Lord Ando to seek your assistance!"

"Bah. It's a damned inconvenience," he grouched.

"So you'll come with me?" the girl asked. She fidgeted behind him, still kneeling in the volcanic the earth. Her head nearly touched the rock floor at his feet as she bowed, pleading. "I must have your answer, Master Totosai! Time is of the essence!"

"Isn't it always?" he muttered, and with his both fists firmly planted to his hips he stepped out into the dawn. The heavy air cast by the rising volcanic gasses greeted him. "And what is it Lord Ando needed from me?"

"The legendary sword has resurfaced! Only you can track it!"

"Legendary sword, you say? You mean Yosue, the Vanishing Blade of the Vixen Queen." Totosai arched a brow as he studied the soot-covered ceiling. "That legendary sword?"

The girl let out an exasperated scream. "Yes! That sword! I've explained this to you!"

Totosai sighed, glancing back over his shoulder. "Look… Nanako is it?" She nodded frantically. He turned back to her, folding his slender arms over his chest as he gazed down at her. "I really don't know what you expect me to do. Goro of the fox demon clan forged Yosue, not I."

"Goro-sama is dead! But you are here! You still draw breath! Don't you see? You are the only one who can help us locate–"

"Wait… I think maybe you are misunderstanding something." He shifted about in his loose-fitting grey hakama before sinking into a cross-legged position before her. "It is true that swordsmiths of a demonic nature are intricately tied in ways you could not begin to fathom to his own work. But therein lies the key. You see, I am not Goro-sama. We may have shared similar interests and walked similar paths because of it, but our demonic signatures are quite different. His swords… they are not mine. I would offer any help I could, but I cannot help you in the way you expect. I'm sorry, but it's simply not possible."

"Lord Ando said…"

"That I would be able to track Yosue? I'm sorry, Nanako, but Lord Ando is mistaken."

She lowered her head with a sigh. "So… you won't come with me."

"I did not say that."

Nanako blinked, surprised by this response. She leaned forward. "You will help us?"

"Goro-sama was a friend and ally for many years," Totosai explained thoughtfully. "We studied the art of sword making for more than two centuries under the same master swordsmith. We were united as brothers, once upon a time."

Totosai rose from the floor and moved closer to the hearth, where he could cast flames to such a ferocious degree that it could melt the strongest of Earth's metals. He reached out and took in his hands the hilt of a sword. It was a familiar sword to him, the very first that he had ever forged. Under his Master Gogenki's watchful eyes, Totosai had forged this blade from his very own fang. It was nothing like Tetsusaiga, Tensaiga, or Sounga. This was a sword forged with no such purpose in mind.

It was merely a final test before being accepted into the swordsmith brotherhood. He thought about the friendly competition between himself and Goro, the race to see who could complete their initial sword first.

Things had not always been so friendly between them. At least in the beginning. During his younger years, Totosai had been arrogant and rash. Goro had been his complete opposite, hard and impassive. Neither was interested in forming a bond with the other. Totosai sought the fame and wealth of being the most sought-after swordsmith by the world's most powerful demons, and he was not shy about his intentions of being the best in the land. Goro, of course, was not interested in Totosai's plans, nor did he seem to have any true intentions of his own. He was only interested in his work, and continued to push forward in pursuit of the craft.

Totosai stared into the gleaming blue blade to the reflection of the old man staring back at him. He so longed to return to those days, when he was a strapping young man with all the world before him. He thought perhaps, knowing what he knew now, he would have approached the world differently. Even so, things had worked out okay. He had done all that he had intended to do, though it had not exactly occurred in the way he had anticipated.

He didn't remember pulling the sword partway clear of its sheath. He didn't remember his intent to simply gaze upon the shiny blue steel.

"Master Totosai!"

He didn't even remember that he had company standing right behind him.

He blinked in surprise when she called his name.

"Hmmm? Who are you? What do you want?" He looked around with a confused expression on his face. "Is this my house?"

TWO

The boy was a lot faster than Shippo had initially given him credit for. His blade was probably more accurate than any blade wielded by a mere human had a right to be. Then again, there was a reason for this: the boy was a trained demon slayer. Shippo had seen demon slayers in action before, and when comparing this kid to the likes of one of the very best, his skillset was significantly diminished… He was no Sango. Even so, he was impressive in his own right.

Of course, Shippo had no intention of hurting the boy. He was young, younger than Kohaku had been when they met years ago. He probably thought Shippo had brought harm to the people of the village. Shippo could respect his desire to defeat the demon responsible for so much grief, though he didn't exactly appreciate the idea of being tried, convicted, and sentenced to death without a chance to prove his innocence.

He could hear… even feel… the blast of wind against his pointed left ear as the demon slayer's kusarigama whizzed just past his head. Had he not sidestepped the weapon, it could have done him considerable damage. As it were, he was able to avoid the blade and snare the chain in his fist, just as it went taut. Before his opponent realized what was going on, Shippo gave the chain a tug.

It didn't require much effort. The boy gasped in surprise as he was yanked from his feet. He landed face first in dirt at Shippo's feet. The fox demon gazed down for a moment as the kid quickly tried to gather himself.

"Not done, eh?" Shippo asked patiently as the kid gathered up his chain and started reeling in his weapon. "Come on kid, I'm not just your average run-of-the-mill demon. You can't beat me."

Plus, he really didn't feel like pounding the kid into submission. He had a friend who would never have hesitated, of course, but it wasn't Shippo's way.

Already he was set to hurl the kusarigama again.

"Persistent," Tsume mused calmly.

"And predictable," Shippo added. "A little too reliant on that blade of his."

"Do you wish to continue analyzing or are you going to fight me, demon?!"

Shippo raised a brow. "I'm not exactly looking for a fight here, if that's what you're asking. This is your war, not mine. I mean only to survive."

"Bloodthirsty demon! Time to face judgment!"

"Bloodthirsty?" That accusation actually stung his heart.

The boy dashed forward, his blade twirling at his side. Shippo dropped into a warrior's stance, eyes flashing dangerously as he watched the weapon's arc. Again the demon slayer let it fly, only this time to the right as he himself dashed left and forward. Shippo knew the intent of the maneuver. As the chain rushed for his midsection he calmly leapt up and out of the line of fire. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of the demon slayer as he gave a tug on his chain, calling the blade of the weapon back to him.

He's no novice, but that doesn't make him a threat. At least not to me.

"He's really quite good," Tsume noted, echoing his thoughts. "For a child."

"He's no Sango. He's no Kohaku, either."

"He's still young. Younger than either of the siblings when you met them."

Though Shippo didn't reply, he knew his companion was right. He caught the trunk of a rather tall tree and spun about within the branches, coming to rest upon a branch just strong enough to support his weight. He set his eyes on the ground, where the boy should have been. A small smile took shape as he looked back where he had been.

"What's this?"

The demon slayer was gone.

"Quick on his feet indeed," Tsume mused. "What will you do next, Master Shippo?"

The smile fell from his face as at the sound of a sudden and shrill scream. "Maika…"

He leapt from the tree with his hands balled into tight fists.

"Maika!"

THREE

Maika's heart thundered in her chest as she backed away from the blade spinning mere feet from her face. The demon slayer stood before her, glaring. He took a step forward, kusarigama twirling diligently. The blade hummed like a swarm of wasps as it sliced the air around it. The young dragon's eyes darted this way and that, searching for a path to escape, but she saw nowhere to run.

She had taken refuge within the hollowed out log of a fallen tree, only to learn that she wasn't at all hidden from her pursuer. Rather she had made herself a bird in a cage, the perfect target for an angry demon slayer.

She inched back as far as she could until her shoulders were pinned squarely to the back of the hollow, and then, tears streaming down her cheeks both out of fear and frustration, the young dragoness squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable.

The boy in turn lifted his kusarigama high over his head.

He did not strike.

"Just a kid…" he mumbled. "A kid."

Maika let out a sob. She squeezed her balled fists so tight that her own claws dug into the flesh of her palm. Hot liquid dribbled through her fingers and splashed softly on the ground at her feet. She dared not hope, and his next words confirmed her fear.

"But still a demon. I must do this!"

She flinched waiting for the endlessness of death.

Cold steel pressed against her throat. "Forgive me…"

One heartbeat, and then a second.

"Die demon!" he bellowed.

Presumably a battle cry of desperation, to give him strength. Maika realized that this wasn't his intent. He was not here to kill children. She was adolescent, not really a child but not yet an adult, and she was short in comparison to the demon slayer. She wondered if his blade had ever tasted the blood of a demon before. Not that it truly mattered, as it was about to taste hers. She was lost. She wondered what it would be like to die.

"No!" a voice bellowed.

The earth seemed to shake with the weight of another landing on the forest floor beside her. Cold steel sliced her throat and her eyes bulged in fear and surprise and she opened her mouth to scream. Her sweet terrified voice filled her ears, and she knew the cut was shallow. He had not cut her windpipe. She had been spared an early death… at least for the time being.

The blade of the kusarigama, having tasted dragon's blood, was flung effortlessly through empty air. The hand on the other end released the chain, not of free will but out of terrified surprise. The weapon sliced deep into the bark of a nearby tree where its journey ended with a soft thwack.

Maika opened up a single eye and saw a pair of feet dangling in empty space, just above her head, kicking at the ground.

Her eyes traveled up until she saw a powerful hand clamped around the boy's throat.

"Enough!" Shippo growled. He had pinned the slayer's back to the hollow of the fallen tree, their noses inches apart. "I was willing give you an opportunity. I was prepared to let it go. But you just had to be stubborn. Damn it, kid. Are you that ready to die?"

"I'll have your head, fiend!" The slayer continued to struggle. There was a fierce determination in his eyes. Shippo might have admired his will if not for the seething anger burning within him. "You are the one who insists on spilling blood! Right is on my side!"

"You think so? And what blood do you think I've spilt this day? Or are you referring to the blood spilt last night at the village? If that's what you mean, I can assure you that had nothing to do with me."

"Liar!"

"It's true. I seek the one responsible." Shippo cocked his head and leaned in with a snarl. "You, on the other hand, have made a deadly mistake. You've spilt blood today. Innocent blood."

"Demons have no innocent blood!"

"You're lucky the girl will live, brat. I should take your head as a souvenir. A reminder of what happens to slayers who cross the line. But I'm not going to do that."

"Damn straight!" the boy growled back. Shippo hadn't been prepared for his next move. A hand burst out from beneath the boy's rags and hurled a powdery substance into his face. It was a strong move with precise aim, and the powder burst into a short-lived flame upon contact. Shippo stumbled back with a cry of surprise, barely realizing that the boy had slipped through his fingers in the same instant.

"Master Shippo!" Tsume called. His first words in some time.

Shippo clawed at his eyes. The stinging sensation was enough to knock him to a knee. He could not see, but he felt a hand at the back of his neck, and then his head cradled against a soft warmth. Maika's gentle breath filled his ears.

He heard one other thing as she held his head against his chest.

The sound of racing footsteps as the young demon slayer fled into the forest.

The battle, for the time being, was finished.

"Cunning little twerp," Shippo grumbled to himself. Then he sighed and allowed the tension inside to fade. He reached up and patted Maika hand. "You okay, kid?"

He could hear the soft smile in her tone as she murmured, "Yes. Thanks t-t-to you, Shippo. My hero."

"Your wound," Tsume started.

"Shallow," she replied. "Painful, b-b-but shallow. I'll live."

Shippo smiled. He put a hand to his eyes and rubbed them. His vision was blurry, but it was clearing up after the boy's surprise attack. No permanent damage, at least not for a demon. A mortal would not likely be so fortunate. "One of two things will happen now."

"Which is?" Tsume asked.

"Either he'll be back or he'll leave us be."

"Do you think he b-b-believed you when you said we d-d-didn't attack the village?" Maika asked.

"Doesn't matter," Tsume said. "Even if he did he might be back. We're demons and he's proven his hatred for us. But he may accept the fact we weren't responsible and go after the actual culprit."

Shippo at last pushed himself to his feet. His vision was nearly back to normal. He blinked and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "He was hired for that purpose, so really there're only two outcomes. He'll think we're responsible and come after us, or he'll believe what I said and move on. He's a demon slayer, so he should at least act like a professional."

"You're probably right, Master Shippo," the dagger at his hip said thoughtfully. "Assuming the kid can be reasonable, of course."

Maika considered it all with a frown. "Don't you think we'll f-f-find out one way or the other anyway? We're after the s-s-same target."

"Probably so," Shippo said with a smile. He reached down and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Looks like that wound is already closed. Let's go get you cleaned up."

The young dragoness gave a small nod. She smiled weakly. "Sure. Th-th-thank you, Shippo."

FOUR

Osuhi stood naked in a dense, dark patch of forest, hands on his hips as he gazed off into nothingness, listening to the gentle sobs of the half-demon nearby. How much time had passed since he'd lost himself to his animalistic desires? An hour or two? Perhaps more than that. He didn't know for sure. He did know, due to the fading light of day, that he had lost precious time. If he was still being tailed, he had risked a great deal for the sake of foolish pleasure.

Oh, it had certainly been worth it. And now that it was over he could concentrate on moving forward. His eyes drifted to the sword that had been his true purpose for pursuing the girl. He'd succeeded in capturing a worthless relic.

At least he still had her. She was worthy compensation.

He turned then and walked over to her. Like he, she was still naked, coated with sweat and other bodily fluids from their joining. He reached down and hauled her up by the wrist. She didn't struggle. Nor did she remain upright when he set her on her feet.

He growled in frustration, catching her as she started to fall. With one hand on her upper arm and the other clenched tightly about the back of her neck, Osuhi snarled in her ear. "You behave if you know what's good for you, half demon."

She stared off at nothing, as if to ignore him, but she found her footing nonetheless. Osuhi nodded at the results.

"That's right. This doesn't have to be entirely unpleasant for you." With gentle fingers he brushed her bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead from her eyes. She averted her gaze, but he placed two fingers on her chin and gently forced her to look at him. She didn't fight him.

"There, you see? This is not all that bad, is it?"

There was a tear in her eyes. She had spirit, he had to admit. That was good. That would be enough for now. Eventually he would break her. "Now then. We have a long road ahead of us." She didn't respond, but he didn't require a response. He smirked and gave her bare rump a slap. She yelped softly and her tears began to flow. "Get dressed, and we'll be on our way."

FIVE

After a long, exhausting sprint, Shou sank to the soft earth and leaned back against the thick trunk of a towering cherry tree. His breath caught in his throat. He coughed and wheezed, fighting to gain control.

The fight with the fox demon had been rough. Rougher than he'd anticipated. Somehow, miraculously, he was alive. He wanted to believe it was some kind of miracle, anyway. He knew the truth however. It had been no miracle. The fox demon hadn't intended to kill him. He'd simply been fighting to protect himself and his friends.

Not exactly how a murderous demon would behave, one that butchered a young woman and her father in the middle of the night. No, whoever they were, Shou knew they had not attacked Lord Hanabishi's people. The fox demon had spoken true. But why had they gone to the village to begin with? Did they know the demon responsible? That seemed a likely explanation.

That said, he didn't think it likely they were companions of the murderer. It seemed much more likely that they had their own score to settle.

They were dangerous, Shou knew. Too dangerous to remain unchecked.

Sooner or later, they would cross paths again. He was certain of that much.

After catching his breath Shou pushed himself to his feet. He raked both hands through his hair, combing it back off his forehead. It was heavy, damp with sweat. He grumbled to himself. His bandanna was gone, and his long hair kept falling in his face. Frustration, along with the beginnings of a splitting headache, made it hard to concentrate, and when a demon slayer couldn't concentrate, he ended up dead.

One of Yataro-sensei's most important lessons. Shou remembered it well, but he had been distracted by his recent battle. Now that it was over—at least for the time being—he was able to think straight. He drew a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. With both hands on the side of his forehead he rubbed his temples using slow, circular strokes.

Slowly the headache began to recede. "Mind over matter," the demon slayer mumbled.

Then he took a deep breath and rose to his feet. He gathered the chain of his kusarigama and put the weapon in its usual place, strapped to his back.

He heaved a heavy sigh, stretching tall and reassessing his physical condition. The fight had been rough, and he had received a few bumps and bruises, but he would live. Most importantly he could still fight if need be.

Still, he reasoned it would be wise to seek out his actual target. He didn't necessarily have to confront the demon yet, but it was important that he locate the enemy as soon as possible. He could figure out the next step afterwards.

His next step was important. He had a lot of ground to make up and he wasn't sure of the destination. No time to eat or to rest. It was time to act.

He checked the small leather pouch on his belt and then darted off into the forest.

SIX

Momo soared up and over a forest that Totosai had not seen for many years. The old man stared down, scarcely noticing the small, lithe frame of his young companion, clinging to him from behind. His mind had taken him back, back to a memory of his early years, when as a student to Master Gogenki he had come to this place.

This forest had been Goro's childhood home.

With a heavy sigh, Totosai gave the side of Momo's neck a gentle tap, signaling a change of direction. When the three-eyed demon cow suddenly shifted in midair, Nanako let out a surprised yelp. "Muh… Master Totosai! This is the wrong way!"

"Just a minor detour, Nanako. Everything is fine." Totosai fell silent, though he could feel the girl's questioning gaze from behind.

Momo needed no more direction than what he had given. He flew over a large hill—or perhaps a small mountain—and began to descend into a valley so thick with vegetation it was impossible to see anything but treetops from overhead.

"The Valley of Vixen Queen," Totosai murmured.

Nanako squeezed his arm. "I… Master Totosai, we can't go here! It's forbidden!"

"So I hear."

"Then… what are we doing here?"

The ghost of a smile graced the swordsmith's lips, though he knew Nanako couldn't see it. Momo slid down and below the treeline, and they were cast in the shadow of the forest.

The world below was quite familiar. In fact, from this perspective, nothing at all had changed. Everything appeared precisely as it had been all those hundreds of years ago. This was a timeless world, virtually untouched by the outside. Totosai breathed in the sweet air of the forest, relished in it. The moment Momo touched the ground and the cloud at his hooves faded into nothingness, he began to graze happily. The old man hoped down onto the ground and scurried on into the darkness, his long-handled hammer propped against his shoulder.

"Master Totosai!"

He ignored Nanako's call, which had become a plea of frustration. After a moment he heard her light feet scurrying through the forest after him.

Up ahead came a gentle breath of wind. He felt he warmth of the invisible power but thought nothing of it as he trudged on through the darkness. It was no concern of his. He had felt this same breath of power once before, on this precise path. It had been "forbidden" in those days too. Of course, in those days, it had been a livelier place.

He had been a strapping young demon of no more than three hundred years, two centuries into his rigorous training. He had even earned the friendship of the fox demon Goro, his partner in crime and his peer swordsmith-in-training.

In his memories he saw movement in the forest. A rippling wave of red. Fascination seized him. Against the wishes of his friend, he had followed the children along this same path…

SEVEN

Before him there was a path of light. Two children with red hair rippling in magnificent waves behind them, pranced on ahead, lilting laughter cutting effortlessly through the shadows. A third child with short arms and legs pumping furiously to keep up with her sisters, was clearly the youngest. Her hair was considerably shorter, falling just above her shoulders, and her head was nearly dwarfed by adorable fox ears poking through the silver locks.

Each of the girls had creamy-white skin. Their vulpine legs and bright bushy tails were clear telltales of their origins. While the older girls had reddish-blond, almost golden tails, their sister's thick tail was a marvelous shade somewhere between white and silver.

They ran in the buff, perfectly at home in the forest of their heritage. Totosai watched the fox demons not with perverse lust in his eyes but rather admiration for something few would ever see. According to legend, female fox demons were a rare sight because so few were born into the world. To have more than one born to the same generation was said to be a rare event, and the vixen queen had birthed three in two litters. Totosai marveled at the rare gems of nature.

Occasionally the trio peered back and giggled at him. Sometimes they would double back only to dash out of sight into the forest. It was a mischievous game of hide-and-seek. Totosai remained on the path, waiting and watching as they played their game.

They did not speak to him, but their laughter was enough. He was soon on the verge of laughter himself, and when at last they urged a chuckle from the swordsmith-in-training they doubled over with a fresh, almost paralyzing burst of laughter. A golden sound, so utterly brilliant. Perfection, if the truth be told.

And just like that, they somehow gathered themselves and darted out of sight, seemingly to begin the process all over again. Totosai smiled.

"You have returned to me."

The silky-smooth voice reached Totosai's ears, and he turned his gaze to the light ahead of him in the path. He stood silent, closing his eyes and breathing in the forest. The cool air was crisp and sweet, so different from his volcanic home.

"I have, Lady Pimiko." Goro's heartfelt reply was deep and smooth, bestowing deep reverence in its gentleness. "The years have been kind."

"Only two hundred years as I recall," the lady responded. Totosai had yet to see her, but he could imagine the wondrous smile that graced her flawless features. "You, however… you have changed. For the better, I might add."

Totosai waited out of sight and in perfect silence as his friend spoke to the one known as the Vixen Queen. The children had vanished into the forest, though he could still hear them nearby, even feel their eyes as they watched him from the shadows.

An exchange of pleasantries. An update regarding Goro's training. All short but sweet. And then silence, followed by a breath of power.

EIGHT

Totosai shook away the moment and drew a slow breath before stepping into the one place in the forest where the magic of light once touched. That power no longer dwelled in the valley. It had survived for a few decades following Pimiko's death, but something had changed.

Rather, everything had.

Here, in the exact center of the valley, stood a throne of stone, covered over by decades of foliage. Nobody had kept house here in a long time. Here was the first visual evidence of change since their arrival, Totosai mused thoughtfully as he paused to stare into the past. He imagined the great and powerful Pimiko in all her glory, the gentle queen of the fox demon tribe, reverently draped over her throne.

Nanako trudged up behind him. "Master Totosai?"

"In her time, you never would have seen the outside of this place."

The girl turned her gaze from him and swallowed hard. "Yes. I know."

"The world has changed, I suppose," the swordsmith murmured. "The wheel of life is constantly turning. Time marches on."

"Lady Saya thought so."

"As did Goro." With a gentle snort Totosai trudged on into the forest just behind the stone throne. Nanako gasped and followed after him. "Queen Pimiko was another matter."

It was a short walk until he came to what he sought.

"Master Totosai?"

He glanced down at her and smiled thoughtfully. Then he turned his gaze to the row of stones stretching off into the distance before him. He twirled his hammer against his shoulder as if it were a parasol, gazing at the first stone in the row, right at his feet. Or rather, the last stone.

"Nanako, do you trust me?"

She looked up at him. "I have no choice in the matter, do I?"

He smiled thoughtfully. "Well, no. I suppose not. But I need your trust, fully and implicitly, without fail. If we are to find Yosue, that is."

She gazed up to him. "So there is a way?"

For a moment, he didn't answer. He gazed down at small stone once again and considered the question. Then he drew a deep breath. "Perhaps."

"What exactly are we doing here?"

"Defiling Pimiko's grave," Totosai replied calmly, and then, before she had a chance to protest, he lifted his hammer up and over his head, bringing it down over the stone with all his might.

On contact there was a brilliant flash of white-hot light and a crack of jaw-rattling thunder. Nanako screamed in panic, but he could not hear her. She could not even hear herself.

NEXT EPISODE: Osuhi's Startling Discovery