Tamayo placed the cup of steaming tea before Giyuu-san before taking a seat across from him with a cup of her own. He stared at it for a moment and then looked up at her curiously. She leaned forward and inhaled the steam that rose from the cup, finding it warming and refreshing in the way she always did. After a moment he mimicked her, and his expression shifted from uncertainty to contentment, and he settled himself so that he could continue to breathe in the scented tea. Tamayo was relieved, because it spoke volumes about his nature, that he could find pleasure in something simple, specifically, something that did not involve eating.

Over the course of her nearly five hundred year long life, Tamayo had met a handful of other demons who were not bonded to Muzan. She wondered now, if perhaps they too had stumbled across a blue spider lily under a stormy sky, and eaten it without knowing why. A few of them became something like they once were when they were human, capable of rationality and even humanity, while others, for one reason or another, remained just as cruel and gluttonous as any of the demon king's minions. To her knowledge, most of them had fled Japan either to the mainland or across the sea in order to escape the notice of Muzan. While the thought had occasionally crossed her mind over the years, she found that she could not leave her home. There were patients here who needed her, and besides, she had unfinished business with Muzan. The thought caused a ripple of rage to pass through her, and Giyuu-san flicked his gaze up to watch her. She looked back at him and mentally matched his calm demeanor, studying him with kindness and care.

The newborn demon who sat across from her had been sated with relatively little blood, and maintained his composure on a modest amount. Once his hunger was under control, he displayed very little predatory drive, though he was rather fiercely protective of his crow.

"You can try sipping it," Tamayo said softly. "It won't hurt you, it just won't do anything to quench your thirst, I'm afraid."

"I'm not thirsty," Giyuu-san murmured softly, continuing to inhale the steam (another interesting behavior for a demon, as breathing was not necessary for them to sustain life) and leaning into the warmth and scent.

"How are you feeling today, Giyuu-san?" she asked.

"Fine," he replied simply.

"Do you care to elaborate on that for me?" she prodded and gave him a small, inviting smile.

He looked up at her and scanned her face for close to a minute before offering a concise response. "I am not hungry."

"Hmm," she murmured, nodding her head, as she knew it was something she asked him quite often. Her smile widened. He was rather peculiar for a demon, but then, Urokodaki-san had said the human he once was had also been eccentric. "Urokodaki-san told me you were once a man of few words, and it seems that you've retained that attribute. It makes you rather a difficult patient."

His eyes widened slightly, and she detected what may have been a hint of guilt in his expression. Another promising sign. "What is it that you wish to know?" he asked, and his brow furrowed.

She softened her gaze, but then she heard the shuffling of feet in the hallway outside the door and the distinctive huff of her dear Yushiro, her offspring who had bonded so closely to her that he had fallen in love. She sighed, wishing that she had slid the door shut when she entered the room, if for no other reason than to not encourage the false rivalry Yushiro seemed to believe existed between himself and Giyuu-san. His eyes shifted to the door but he did not comment, and he appeared to be either unaware or indifferent to the whole thing. Either way she imagined he was becoming used to Yushiro's irritability.

"When you came here a couple of weeks ago, you were in quite a state, as you are well aware, and I just want to know how you feel now. What is different, what's the same, if you feel any discomfort. That type of information is very helpful to me."

He seemed to become lost in thought, so she waited patiently.

"As I said, I feel fine. I am not hungry, which I was for as long as I can remember, so that is different. I am not in any discomfort. What is the same…I'm not sure if that is the right word. There are things that are familiar. It is hard to explain."

Tamayo waited for him to elaborate for several moments before finally prodding gently, "Try."

He sighed, another rather unusual behavior for a demon, as it suggested that he was trying to alleviate some kind of stress or frustration brought on by the question. The fact that he would attempt to temper his response in this way spoke of his desire to be considerate of her feelings.

A curious creature, indeed.

"When I was bonded to Muzan, I was somehow less than I am now. And I was always hungry, so that felt normal. When the bond broke, there was a…," he trailed off and seemed to search for the words before lapsing into silence.

There was another irritated sound from the hall, but Tamayo maintained her silent equanimity. Yushiro would have to wait. He was concerning himself unnecessarily, and besides, they'd talked about this.

Giyuu-san tried again. "The memories–they are fragments–but they are clear and… I feel things. Even when I was hungry–once I remembered–it felt wrong to eat a human. And then once I saw Urokodaki-san–"

He cut himself off, stumbling on the name, and Tamayo wondered if this was the result of a fragment of a memory, likely relating to Urokodaki-san. She thought about asking the older man more about their relationship, but then, he already seemed disturbed by the situation, even as he outwardly maintained a careful stoicism. The tengu mask and its usefulness under these circumstances was not lost on Tamayo, and she did not wish to cause him any further pain.

He continued remorsefully. "I know that things are very different from how I've always known them to be, and that maybe my idea of 'always' is not quite right. And now I am disgusted by my actions…and I feel guilty. When I recall the memories of before and I set them against what I know about myself now… it's difficult."

He looked at Tamayo as though he was expecting judgment or disgust. Having been in his position, many, many years before, she sighed heavily, and spoke solemnly.

"That is the curse of the bond to Muzan–what it takes–it is our humanity. Demons are tragic creatures, but fascinating in their own way, though it is hard to love something that is so corrupted. I think demons can have value, but it is very complicated, and for the few who have broken the curse and were at one time bonded to Muzan…." She trailed off and looked away, feeling her own deep regret for her family, for the lives she took, even centuries later. "It leaves a mark on our spirit that can never fully be erased. Which is why we must try to be of service, and to connect to others when we can."

Giyuu-san looked at her for a long time after she finished speaking, and seemed to be lost in thought. She was struck again by how relatively young he was, and that it would take him time to fully understand these things.

"I feel a connection to Kanzaburo…." His mouth turned up slightly at one corner in the beginning of a smile, and he looked down.

The crow was currently away on a mission. Urokodaki-san had told him that they needed Kanzaburo to take messages for them to a place that was secret and Kanzaburo knew how to find it–a fact which Giyuu-san had gently contested as he found the idea preposterous, because, in his own halting words, "Anyone with eyes can see that he is quite old and very confused."

To be frank, Tamayo secretly agreed with him. In the end he let them take Kanzaburo begrudgingly for this purpose. The crow left dutifully for the mission, but not before he came to sit on Giyuu-san's shoulder, leaning into his head and murmuring into his ear, goodbye and I'll be back soon and don't leave.

This also struck Tamayo as something unusual, as animals usually avoided demons. She might chalk it up to the bird's addled state, but somehow she knew there was more to it than that. When she asked him about it, he explained that when he was with Kanzaburo, it made him feel something warm and heavy in his chest, and though he couldn't put a word to it, it did not matter. He just wanted the crow to come back as soon as possible so that he could feel it again.

"What do you think the connection is with Kanzaburo?" Tamayo asked gently.

"I don't really know," he answered softly, and his gaze grew distant and melancholy. "I remember small things about him. Laughing and feeling… something. And even though I know that Urokodaki-san does not like me–I can see it in his spirit, he is sad, because he knew me before–some of my memories make me think that I felt something for him like what I feel for Kanzaburo. It may even… I think I felt more."

"What do you think it is, Giyuu-san?" Tamayo pressed, as his ability to explain certain feelings seemed hindered, as if he did not have the words to describe them. So many of the feelings that he was able to express were the more melancholic ones–sadness, guilt, worry. He lapsed into silence. Perhaps he had nothing more to say on the subject.

Tamayo switched gears. "Tell me about how you can see a person's spirit. I am very interested to understand how that works."

He cleared his throat, and seemed grateful to move on from questions about his feelings.

"I don't know if I had it before the bond was broken," he began, his voice bereft, looking down at his intertwined fingers as though the answer might be found in them. "If I did, I was too hungry to see it. Once the bond was broken, I don't know if I saw it in Muzan's presence…." he trailed off, and paused, like he was thinking. "The first time I think I may have seen it, was when Akaza walked me out into the woods. He seemed different to me… like there was a light in him that was guttering in harsh wind, and I sensed he was afraid…and sad."

Tamayo felt compassion for Giyuu-san, as again, it became clear that one of the few feelings he was clear on was sadness, and he often used it to describe Akaza, though he'd admitted that he wasn't sure if it was quite right.

He continued. "And then I was so hungry, everything was just red and raw. Even when I met Urokodaki-san, the hunger was just too overwhelming–blinding and loud–all of my senses were consumed. But then you gave me blood and it took away the hunger and so now I can see."

"And you can see all of our spirits, human and demon alike?" Tamayo asked, finding him fascinating all over again.

He nodded. "And crows," he added.

Tamayo laughed softly at that, and then heard something bang angrily into the wall outside of the door. She disregarded it, not looking forward to the conversation she would be having later with her beloved, if not, troublesome, offspring.

"Remarkable," Tamayo mused. "It never ceases to amaze me the variation in demon abilities. And you are very, very young–only six months old. I wonder if this is something that you got from your maker."

He shrugged and said nothing.

Tamayo knew from their conversations that talking about Akaza was difficult for Giyuu-san, almost more difficult than it was to talk about feelings, because their relationship had been so conflicted. And unlike his human life, his memory of his demon life was very clear to him.

When they first began talking, after he was freed from the grip of his hunger, his descriptions of Akaza were fraught with contradictions, but after a while Tamayo uncovered the thread of their story. That Akaza had been quite violent in the beginning, often raining destruction on Giyuu-san in his desire "to fight forever." And apparently he'd been merciless, seeming to derive true joy from tearing him to shreds. But then, Giyuu-san also remembered him teaching him to fight back, that Akaza had shown great attention to detail and apparent desire for him to get stronger, and also had defended him early on when he had been more vulnerable, mostly from other demons, but also Demon Slayers.

Giyuu-san told her about a time when Akaza took him to a rooftop to watch fireworks, a behavior that Tamayo thought was very unusual for a demon bonded to Muzan. Giyuu-san had wondered about whether or not Akaza was driven to do that by a memory he could not remember, which was a prospect that he found disturbing. Quite often, Giyuu-san expressed concern–that after telling him to run that morning–that it may have led to Akaza's death, and the fact that he did not know weighed on him heavily.

He once confessed that he felt an affinity for his maker and that it had been there from the very beginning, even when he truly despised Akaza for his brutality. Tamayo's experience with such a thing was limited to Yushiro, and so she did not doubt that it was possible that it was a consequence of the blood bond. Tamayo wondered if he was lonely, if he longed for Akaza. But she did not bring it up, because if the bond was anything like what Yushiro felt for her… she doubted her own offspring could bear it. (And if she was being honest with herself, neither could she.)

"What are you thinking about right now, Giyuu-san?" Tamayo asked, when she realized she'd been lost in her own thoughts for some time.

He answered without seeming to think, his voice pitched low and grave. "If he is still alive, I want Akaza freed from Muzan, like I am. I want him to remember why he went to that rooftop to see the fireworks."

His response hit Tamayo like a dagger to the heart, and she regretted asking him immediately. That he'd responded without hesitation and with such vehemence was rare for him, so she knew it was likely something that was often on his mind. It caused a feeling of despair in Tamayo, for she knew that freeing Akaza was dangerous, that it should not be done, and she quickly averted her gaze because she knew Giyuu-san would see the sadness in her spirit.

"Yushiro will be in to take some samples," she stated stiffly, rising from her seat, and although she was sure that he sensed the change in her affect, he did not comment on it.

At the sound of his name, Yushiro practically burst into the room. Tamayo gave him an exasperated look before preparing to leave.

"Let's get this over with shall we?" Yushiro sniped sharply.

Tamayo paused at the door and turned to see Giyuu-san give him a resigned look as he merely pulled up the sleeve of his kimono and waited for his blood to be drawn.


A week went by and Urokodaki left to go Headquarters in order to discuss what was to be done about the demon who had once been Giyuu. Oyakata-sama was quite ill and unable to leave his quarters, but they'd talked about the situation at length and in the end, it came down to one very simple thing. Demons had become a part of the Demon Slayer Corps over the past several months. It had begun with Nezuko, and not long after that, Lady Tamayo and Yushiro began to visit from time to time in secret.

"I cannot say anything with certainty, Sakonji-san," Oyakata-sama said softly, his voice weak, "But it seems to me as though the emergence of these rather unusual demons is significant. They may be important to the coming fight, which I believe is imminent. I know that he is not who he once was, but there are too many things about him that are similar. He should be brought here… I wish to speak with him."

Urokodaki had been silent while he processed this information, none of which surprised him, but which disturbed him nonetheless.

"This demon has killed humans. It is not like Nezuko."

"Hmm," Oyakata-sama murmured. "You are not wrong to be concerned about that fact, but still, based on what I've heard from Lady Tamayo, it sounds like he mastered himself right away once his hunger was tamed. An unusual demon to be sure…." he trailed off.

"The Hashira will not accept it," Urokodaki stated firmly.

Amane-san came to Oyakata's-sama's side, placing a cool cloth on his forehead. He looked in her direction with unseeing eyes, and he smiled gently in gratitude. His voice was tinged with exhaustion when he spoke, "No. You are right, old friend. I will send word to them that he is not to be harmed, but I think it is unlikely that some of them will be able to accept it.

"They can all sense it… the end is drawing near, and they are eager to fight, each in their own way. With him being such a young demon, I know, he will be an easy target."

Urokodaki was confused and waited for several moments before asking, "Am I bringing him here so that he can be killed?" He was aware of his choice of words but things were becoming complicated in his own heart. He'd seen him with Kanzaburo and heard of his conversations with Lady Tamayo. And he'd been watching him closely–his mannerisms, his affect, even the way he moved. He was not Giyuu, but he was not not Giyuu, a fact that was heartbreaking and unsettling.

Oyakata-sama shifted so that now he was facing Urokodaki's direction, and he sighed heavily before responding weakly, "As a man, Giyuu was a rather reluctant survivor. That survivor's spirit continues on in his demon form. And to be frank, he is not so easily killed, is he? In fact, I don't actually know…." He trailed off, and Urokodaki was saddened to see that he had fallen unconscious, such was his exhaustion from their simple conversation.

Urokodaki bowed deeply to both Oyakata-sama and Amane-san before he took his leave. He collected Kanzaburo, who had asked incessantly to be returned to Giyuu as soon as possible.

"Are we finally leaving to return to Giyuu?" Kanzaburo asked as Urokodaki tucked him into a basket. He gave the crow a curt nod. The bird seemed to study him for several moments before he said. "You were so sad when we thought Giyuu was lost, but now you are angry and sad. Why, Sensei?"

Urokodaki did not deign to try to explain his feelings regarding the situation, as they were far more complex than simple anger and sadness. He picked up the basket holding Kanzaburo and a walking stick before committing to the journey that would bring him back to the small clutch of demons who were becoming quite familiar to him, apparently to fetch one who would be brought back, to what end he was truly unsure.


Giyuu was sitting on the engawa sunning himself when Urokodaki-san returned and was elated when Kanzaburo was returned to him. The emotion that swelled in his chest when he saw the crow again was so pleasing that it caused him to smile and he took the bird into his hands to cradle him near his face. Urokodaki-san watched all of this without comment, and due to the mask Giyuu could not see his facial expression, but his spirit had flared with something painful and conflicted–

"… you've suffered tragedies, Giyuu, but you must persevere"… and then his own voice, feverish with grief and despair, "Sensei, this I cannot bear… it should have been me… it should have been me… not Sabito… never him…"

–before he turned to walk away without comment.

Later, Giyuu was in an examination room with Yushiro as he administered medicine to Giyuu that was designed by Lady Tamayo to help combat some of the effects of being a demon. She recently made great strides in perfecting this treatment and she had hope that it would further diminish Giyuu's desire for blood and also reverse some of the effects on his physical appearance in order to enable him to move through the world more freely. While Giyuu did like the idea of requiring less blood, he was less concerned about his appearance, but that may have been due to the fact that he never bothered to look at himself to have an opinion about it one way or another.

Yushiro was in a mood. He was always irritable with Giyuu, but today he was out for blood, literally, often stabbing Giyuu with the needle with murderous intent. He kept complaining about the presence of Kanzaburo in the laboratory, that it was not proper, or some such thing, but it was tiresome, so Giyuu tuned him out. He did not want to be parted from Kanzaburo, and the feeling appeared to be mutual, so he kept the crow with him most of the time.

"You are so preoccupied with that damn bird! Who has ever heard of such a thing? Why do you not long for your maker?" Yushiro asked irritably.

Giyuu knew all about how Yushiro felt about his beloved maker.

He described everything that he felt for her in such detail that it made Giyuu's head spin. In the beginning he'd paid close attention to everything Yushiro said, as he hoped to glean some understanding about his own feelings, but he found that he did not seem to harbor the same fascination with Akaza as Yushiro did for Tamayo, which, quite honestly, Giyuu found overwhelming. After a time he grew bored of hearing about the Lady Tamayo's beauty and radiance and brilliance and wholeheartedness–the list went on and on–that no one else could ever be like her, that every color of the rainbow was made for her skin, that no kimono was too expensive, that flowers and nature and the very world, paled in comparison to her.

"Did you hear my question?" Yushiro snapped, " You know you can be rather airheaded sometimes!"

"I did hear you, but I do not have an answer to the question."

"What do you mean? I could not go a day without seeing the beautiful Lady Tamayo!"

Giyuu tilted his head to the side, thinking.

"I am not sure that I feel the same way about my maker."

"Well you should try to figure it out! Is he not beautiful to you?"

Giyuu considered the question. He supposed that Akaza was subjectively beautiful to him in certain ways, but how he looked was not the aspect of Akaza that he had feelings about. And as the feelings he did have were so difficult to parse, he found that he was rather protective of them. Sharing them with Tamayo seemed reasonable as she was so kind and thoughtful. Telling them to Yushiro felt like a betrayal of some sort.

"He is more beautiful to me than you are," Giyuu answered honestly in a laconic tone. (Dry humor had, in fact, returned to him after all!)

Yushiro's eyes narrowed and he jabbed Giyuu mercilessly with the needle for the fifth time.

Giyuu, who was beginning to realize that he needed to give Yushiro more information if he was ever going to escape this abuse, tried to sum it up in as few words as possible that lacked any real information about his true feelings.

"I hope that he is still alive. I don't like the idea that something I did led to him being harmed. I wish to see him again. And if he could be freed…." Giyuu trailed off. It all made Giyuu's head (and chest) hurt.

Yushiro was leaning forward, his chin leaning into both hands, gazing dreamily at Giyuu. Giyuu noticed that his spirit, which was normally agitated and red in nature when he was near him, had mellowed somewhat and faded toward pink.

"So do you love him?" he asked in a tone that held equal measures of exasperation and hope.

Giyuu stared at him blankly. Was the affinity he felt for Akaza love? Did Giyuu know what that word meant?

"… is the moon not lovely tonight, Tomioka-san?"

He sifted through the fragments of memories in his mind, looking for something that might help him answer the question, but he came up with nothing. He imagined that love was a feeling of great consequence, not something relatively fleeting like anger or fear. His thinking lasted for close to a minute.

As if he could read his mind, Yushiro asked with a pitying tone, "Do you even know what love is?"

Giyuu continued to stare.

"...that's why everyone hates you."

"You are hopeless," Yushiro sighed, but he was marginally nicer to him after that.

Giyuu hoped he was not correct about him being hopeless. Perhaps he could ask Lady Tamayo what love was like. Or maybe Kanzaburo.


One afternoon, Urokodaki-san approached Giyuu as he sat petting Kanzaburo. Giyuu shifted his gaze from Kanzaburo to the man, wishing very much that he would take off the tengu mask–

"…it was my smile…I appeared too kind to be a threat…" … and then… "but you were the Water Hashira, Sensei! How could they not be afraid?"

–but knew he would not. He had maintained a consistent distance from Giyuu, which made him feel uneasy, as it was a reminder. Even though he no longer wanted to eat humans, there was a lingering feeling of being other than them, and there was also a nagging sense of guilt over what he was like before the tether was broken and his hunger had been tamed by Tamayo's intervention.

Urokodaki-san began to speak without preamble. "We will soon travel to the headquarters of the Demon Slayer Corps. Lady Tamayo has been visiting it frequently, and she plans to relocate there for a time. We will go ahead of her."

Giyuu said nothing, but he nodded.

"Knowledge of a few things will serve you."

Urokodaki-san paused for so long that Giyuu wondered if he was going to speak again.

"When you were human, you were the Water Hashira in the Demon Slayer Corps."

"... I am not worthy of such a thing Oyakata-sama…"

Giyuu did not know what a Water Hashira was, but he did not interrupt, and gave Urokodaki-san his full attention. Kanzaburo hopped up onto his shoulder as he leaned forward to listen.

"Muzan made sure that word of… your death and transformation was leaked to the members of the Demon Slayer Corps, and two of your possessions that had been lost were sent to headquarters. It was… a blow to them. To us all."

The man fell silent again, and even though Giyuu could not really attach much meaning to what his human death meant to anyone, he did understand the loss of someone, and his mind turned to acknowledge the pain he felt regarding the unknown fate of his maker.

"The loss of a Hashira is very difficult for the members of the Corps, and to have one turned into a demon… it is rather rare." Urokodaki-san said heavily.

Giyuu still wanted to ask what a Hashira was, but he did not want to bother the man with his questions, as he could tell from the way his spirit guttered and flared that he felt great emotion as he relayed this information.

"Your maker, was he one of the Twelve Kizuki?"

Giyuu did not know what that was either (Hashira and Kizuki, who used such words for humans and demons? Naming them after structures rather than the flesh and blood of which they were composed– it bothered him for reasons he could not perceive) as it had never come up, so he shrugged and shook his head.

"Did he have the kanji of a number on his eyes?"

The memory of Akaza's face flashed in Giyuu's mind, and it caused him to feel pain in his chest, but he set it aside. "The number three."

"Hmm," Urokodaki-san murmured, shifting in such a way that it appeared that he was looking at the ground. "That would place him rather close to Muzan, I imagine. Did he tell you much about him?"

"... we don't speak of him… put him out of your mind and focus on getting stronger."

Giyuu shook his head.

Urokodaki-san regarded him for several moments before he continued. "Lady Tamayo told me that you stood before Muzan. What do you remember about him?"

threat as big as a mountain… as furious as a volcano… a malevolence unlike anything he could have imagined…

He tried to relay this to Urokodaki-san, but he found that there was little concrete information he could provide. Still, the man appeared to be listening intently, and when Giyuu was finished he looked at him for a long time before he spoke.

"The human you were… he was important to the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps, Oyakata-sama. All of the Hashira are. Regarding the Hashira themselves, I am not privy to all of the details, but based on my knowledge of Giy–" he cut himself off, looking away and clearing his throat. He was silent for several moments before he continued, and the way his spirit flared and shivered–

"... here, it is cold, take my blanket tonight"… and then his own voice, young and small, "...but won't you be cold, Sensei?"

–gave Giyuu the impression that he was warring with himself.

"He may have had relationships of some sort with at least a few of them. The nature of those relationships, for better or worse… I don't know."

Giyuu was silent, trying to understand what he was telling him.

"...you are hated…"

"Regardless, our presence at headquarters will be difficult for them to accept. You should prepare yourself for hostility, if not outright violence."

Giyuu nodded. He'd sensed it from Urokodaki-san himself, especially in the beginning, whereas now he perceived little more than resignation tinged with sadness.

"Do you have any questions?" Urokodaki-san asked wearily.

"...what am I to do there? Why am I going?"

Urokodaki-san sighed. "I think Oyakata-sama wants to see you, to speak to you. I think he wants to see what you know. He has a special form of perception, and perhaps he wonders if he can use it to see things that you are not even aware of knowing.

"But he is also nearing the end of his life… and the human you were was rather important to him–there may be some lingering affection for him… I know that it is not in your demonic nature to feel such a thing–"

But Giyuu cut him off, as the word clicked into place in his chest (again, in the place that had once been his heart). He spoke in halting tones, trying to pick his words carefully. "I think… that is what I feel for Kanzaburo… affection. I couldn't find the word. I want to be with him and protect him and take care of him. Is that affection?"

Urokodaki-san looked at Giyuu, staring for several moments that stretched long, until it was likely close to a minute, maybe more. He tipped his head once in what might have been an affirmation, but Giyuu couldn't be certain. The only thing he knew was that Urokodaki-sans's spirit flared white and bright for several moments in an unbearable way, to such an extent that it was hard for Giyuu to look at it for long, such was its intensity.

"... you are worthy of the title, but never forget that you are worthy of more than that… that you are dear to–"

"You said you felt hostility when you faced Muzan. Do you still feel the same?" Urokodaki-san asked, and there was an odd tone in his voice.

Giyuu nodded. "I wish for him to die."

"Hmm. And would you act against him?"

Giyuu did not hesitate. "I would kill him myself if such a thing were possible."

"Why?"

Giyuu paused to think about it, gathering the words to make himself clear.

"Muzan is a plague–he creates demons who are slaves with no memory of who they were and their hunger is an extension of his own. The terrible destruction they cause is an expansion of his cruel designs… he is the evil in the world and he must be snuffed out."

Urokodaki-san stilled to such a degree that Giyuu could not perceive if he was still breathing. But now his spirit burned bright and hot as a flame. "And would you… would you fight with–with others against him?"

"Yes," Giyuu replied without hesitation.

Urokodaki-san said nothing more that day, but his spirit changed after that whenever Giyuu was around him. He didn't quite understand what it was he saw in it, for it was complex and conflicted, but it held a rather fragile hope at its core.


Eventually it was time to travel to the place called Headquarters.

Tamayo came to Giyuu then and had him sit alone in a room with her, though the door remained slid open fractionally, as always. She ministered to him as she spoke, giving him a tonic of some sort that she injected directly into his bloodstream again and again, and it burned, but it was not so terrible, and anyway Giyuu's attention was focused on her, as she seemed very serious.

"... you really need to be more careful, Tomioka-san… a broken collarbone to save a crow …honestly…"

"Giyuu-san, there are things we need to discuss regarding your state of being, and also, some things you should know about where you are going."

She stood and walked to a table with drawers. She opened one and pulled out a handheld mirror. She returned to the table and placed it face down on the table between them. "Have you looked at yourself since you were turned into a demon?"

Giyuu shook his head, and something about this made him feel very uncomfortable for reasons that he did not understand.

"I'd like for you to look at yourself, please," she said gently.

Giyuu eyed the mirror for a few moments before he picked it up and turned it over. He paused for a moment before tilting it toward himself, feeling a small flutter of anxiety. Then he looked at his face–

fucking blank stare… empty-headed asshole… everyone hates you… oh, you didn't know?

–and though the memories came he did not know the eyes that looked back at him. He did not recognize himself, and he had no flash of memory regarding what he had once looked like, which for some reason was a relief. He merely saw a face that was demonic in an ordinary way, far less so than Akaza's, but definitely not human.

He put the mirror down and shifted his gaze to Tamayo, who was studying him closely, though her expression was kind. When he did not say anything she began speaking quietly.

"I've been giving you treatments to try to recapture something of what you may have been before. I did this for myself so that I could move through the human world with more ease. I do not think I will ever be able to erase all traces, unless–" She cut herself off and stopped speaking, seeming to think better of sharing whatever she'd been about to say. "I'm not sure if it will be enough for you to be able to truly blend in, you will likely always need to be careful if you wish to live among humans."

Why would he want to do that?

Giyuu was perplexed by this proposition. He was no threat to humans as drinking the blood they purchased was enough to keep him sated, and she had made sure that he understood how that transaction worked. Of course he wished to understand his past, but the memories were slowly returning, and he imagined that it would be a long time before things were clearer. But even if he were to recover all of them, he could never go back to being human, so to live among them seemed unwise.

Something of his confusion must have shown on his face, because she sighed before she continued. "It is important for you to understand that your physiology–your cells–are very different from samples I've received from other demons. It seems that eating the flower has severed the connection to Muzan completely, even at the cellular level."

She paused then, and studied his face for several moments, and Giyuu got the impression that she was steeling herself for something.

"...this means that if the Demon Slayer Corps is successful in killing Muzan, and I have been working closely with them on several plans to help make it happen, you will likely survive."

She allowed the words to hang in the air, and Giyuu was aware that this statement was important, and it weighed heavily on him as the ramifications began to coalesce. He recalled the flash of heat that had spread through his body after he'd swallowed the flower, at the sensation of something severed, something that had been a terrible burden. But–

"...are you saying… any demon with cells like Muzan's won't survive if he is killed?" Giyuu asked, his voice held steady, though something was starting to unravel in his chest. "Isn't that most demons?"

Tamayo nodded her head, a grave expression on her compassionate face. "Yes, Giyuu-san, most of the demons in the world will perish if the demon king is killed. It will be an almost total extinction. I know of very few who might survive, though there might be others that I'm unaware of."

The distressing sensation of something unwinding in his chest shifted into a clenching seizure.

a blood soaked ribbon held in his hands, cold and sticky… please… please don't leave me…

"... so… Akaza…"

If Giyuu had breath it would have left him. Somehow, this was a step too far. All at once he understood why Lady Tamayo wanted him to look at his own face… so that he would know that he did not look quite human enough to blend in. And Urokodaki-san had intimated that he might be hated by the humans at the Demon Slayer Corps who knew what he was (though, apparently, it was more like he'd be hated again ), and so he'd be alone–no humans and perhaps no demons. That information was very difficult but still somehow bearable (and also not unfamiliar on several levels).

But Akaza… if he was even still alive … the loss of Akaza was something different… it was worse.

"Giyuu-san, I–"

Giyuu cut her off. Suddenly the matter of whether or not his maker was still alive was immaterial. At this moment he still had hope he was alive, but with this new knowledge, he knew that Akaza was ultimately doomed.

"What of Akaza?" he asked, his tone urgent. "What can be done?"

Tamayo regarded him silently for many moments, seeming to weigh her words carefully. When she spoke, it was uncharacteristically halting. "If he were exposed to enough of your blood all at once… perhaps he could be saved. But to make a Twelve Kizuki into something like you is a dangerous proposition. They are very powerful. He may not be like Muzan toward you, but that does not mean that he is not a threat to the world."

Giyuu did not know how to respond to that, as his own understanding of Akaza was conflicted and incomplete. But in the end it did not matter and a desperate rhythm beat in his chest–( yes! fine! in his heart) –and he knew that even though he wanted to kill the demon king, the fact that it would inevitably lead to the loss of Akaza tore at him.

"I see," he said flatly, and he looked down at his hands, which appeared much more human than they had just a couple of weeks before.

Tamayo's countenance softened.

"I know that the bond between a maker and their offspring is… intense. I'm sure you've surmised that there is a bond between Yushiro and I. It is… complicated.

"If your maker truly is one of the Twelve Kizuki, I am rather surprised that he told you to run when he'd been ordered to bring you back. I would have thought that his bond to Muzan was stronger than his one to you, but perhaps…" She trailed off and was silent for a few moments, her expression turning somber, before she continued carefully. "Without knowing him, I can make no judgment one way or the other. Still, I'm not sure that it matters in the final calculus, as we do not want to cut off the head, only to have another rise to take its place."

Giyuu could not respond to that.

Would Akaza be like Muzan? Would he be a threat to the world if he was free? He did not know, but some part of him believed ( uncertainly, hesitantly) , that no, Akaza was not a threat to the world, that his path lay in a direction away from destruction. But Giyuu thought that his opinion was likely unreliable on the subject, as he had so much at stake in the matter.

He remained seated when Tamayo rose to leave.

"Try to be patient with the Hashira, Giyuu-san. Drink the blood I send with you. And beware of the wisteria. It is poisonous to our kind. The tonic I put in your blood should help, but you will still be uncomfortable. Do you have any questions?" she asked.

He could not bring himself to speak so he shook his head lightly.

"Then I wish you good luck. I hope…," and she paused, seeming to search for the words. "That this is over soon."

She left the room. Giyuu heard a sound at the door and he looked up to see Yushiro standing in the doorway looking at him. His gaze shifted in the direction Tamayo had gone, and at first it was filled with nothing but its typical mix of possessiveness and adoration. But when he looked at Giyuu again, his stare was bleak and sober and forlorn.

After a time, he said cryptically, "I've sometimes found… that it is necessary to make one's own luck." He left the doorway without another word, and Giyuu did not understand what he meant, so he was left to ruminate on his own thoughts.

Self made luck or otherwise, it turned out that Giyuu needed it.


Shinobu stood in the line of Hashira under the bright summer sky, her eyes trained on the ground. It was oppressively hot, and she felt nauseated and dizzy, as was often the case these days. Her left hand had a tremor now, and she focused her attention on trying to steady it so that no one else noticed. She heard a derisive hiss from one of her colleagues and she lifted her gaze to see if it was finally time, if the reason why they were all standing in the blaring sun was about to arrive.

just need this to be over… just a little longer

She swallowed thickly and took a steadying breath, reaching up to wipe a drop of sweat that had gathered on her brow. It took a moment for her vision to focus, and she felt herself sway slightly–

need to adjust the dosage of wisteria…

–before her eyes locked on the two figures who approached. Shinobu did not know what to expect when what had once been Tomioka-san walked into the courtyard, but it was not the surge of ambivalence that flooded her veins, all at once setting her blood on fire and turning it to ice.

Rage.

and grief

Anger had been her companion for a long time, years and years in fact, but it did not often tip over into all encompassing, burning rage like it did when she caught sight of him trailing Urokodaki-san. The slayer in her flared to life and she realized that her hand had moved to her sword. But a lump formed in her throat, and though she tried to swallow it down, she found she could not, so instead she sighed, sharp and bitter.

She spared a look down the line at the other Hashira. Her eyes first lifted to Himejima-san. He had been deeply saddened by the loss of the Water Hashira–she knew because he was the only other Hashira who she'd actually spoken to about it.

"His heart was pure, though his spirit was cleaved," Himejima-san said.

"Cleaved? she asked, her own heart heavy. "What do you mean?"

"Did you not see that he was a man that battled demons that lived inside his own soul?"

"We all suffered losses, Himejima-san," Shinobu sighed in agitation.

"That is true Shinobu-san. But most of us use those losses to fuel the battle against the demons in the world. Tomioka fought a battle against himself and the demons. Which means he fought twice as hard as most."

She'd thought it a rather interesting perspective, and it troubled and gnawed at her in the time since their conversation nearly seven months before, but when she looked at Himejima-san now, gone was the mourner. As he gazed at the demon, his countenance was grim, hands not held in prayer, but in fists at his sides.

After him stood Shinazugawa-san and Iguro-san, both with their hands on their swords, vibrating menacingly, the former's body language suggesting that it would take very little provocation to cause him to burst forth with violent intent. While she had not witnessed their reactions to the news of Tomioka-san's death, she could imagine that it had been met with some level of apathy. Losing any one from their number was always unfortunate, and Hashira respected one another for their combat abilities. He had been a formidable fighter, and thus garnered respect for that. But nowhere was it written that they must like one another, and she knew that the Wind and Serpent Hashiras had never cared much for him, as they had not understood him at all.

(She pushed that thought away. Himejima-san had perceived something about him that she had not, and she'd known him better than any of them. No one really understood Tomioka-san. And now… it did not matter one bit. )

She bit back a surge of nausea and shifted her gaze in the other direction and saw that Tokitou-san appeared to be looking in the direction of Urokodaki-san and the demon, but his face was indifferent, and she imagined he'd worn the same look when he'd heard of Tomioka-san's loss, as it was his manner. However, he too had his hand on his sword.

She wondered what Uzui-san's reaction might have been to seeing the demon, as he was retired and home with his wives. Inexplicably, he had sought her out in the Butterfly Mansion after hearing the news of Tomioka-san's death, and although they did not speak, they had shared a look, and she had seen an uncharacteristic darkness ripple across his expression. It was in that moment that she perceived that something depthless and serious lived in the man despite his impervious and garish affect. And although she suspected that he'd kill the demon without any outward sign of disturbance, she doubted he would do so with his typical verve.

Rengoku-san was standing completely still, his expression serious. He and Kanroji-san were the only two Hashira who regularly displayed any outward evidence of warmth or good humor in their lives. But now all of it had drained away, and the Flame Hashira's face was set as cold as steel. Kanroji-san also stood hard and sober next to him, though there was the barest hint of sadness in her eyes. Shinobu knew that of all the Hashira–other than herself–these two had taken the most interest in trying to connect with Tomioka-san, as it was in their natures to be friendly and kind. Now they just looked like soldiers, ready to face whatever horror was required of them.

She'd watched from a distance as Rengoku-san consoled the Love Hashira on the engawa of the Butterfly Mansion when the news of his death had reached them.

"It is alright Mitsuri-san, do not despair," he'd said, taking her hand gently, much in the way that a kind older brother would. "I too am sad that Tomioka is gone. But I believe that he must have put up a fantastic fight against whatever Upper Moon did this. We must honor his memory."

Shinobu was bitter when she thought of Tomioka-san's honor, as she turned again to look at the thing he'd become.

As she studied the demon, she thought of her own reaction when she learned about his death and defilement. She could not recall who spoke the words, nor did she have a clear memory of her initial response, she just remembered that she had suddenly felt very ill, and it had nothing to do with dosing herself with wisteria, as she had not yet begun that grim task. She had locked herself in her private quarters and stared out the window into the wisteria gardens. She did not know at what point she started crying, but once she realized it, she allowed herself one hour to grieve. At the time she'd told herself it was for the loss of a valued colleague, one with whom she'd gone on many missions–that it was normal to feel a sense of loss–and she never felt any inclination to question that reasoning.

Now she looked up to see that Urokodaki-san and the demon were closer, standing before them in the hellish light that hurt her eyes so much, but Shinobu willed herself to focus on the details of what he looked like. He was different from what she'd expected (dreaded), because while he was clearly demonic, he'd somehow retained many of his human features. She wondered if this was the work of Lady Tamayo, another rather unusual demon in her own right. Shinobu tried not to think about why she felt it, but some part of her was relieved by his appearance. He was dressed in simple dark clothing, and she suppressed an ill-timed chuckle when she had a wry thought, that as unsettling as it was to see him in demonic form, seeing him without his haori was almost just as bizarre.

(The haori resided in the Butterfly Mansion in a paulownia box. Oyakata-sama had insisted that she take possession of it after Tomioka-san's death, a choice that perplexed Shinobu, as it seemed to her that it should go to Urokodaki-san. Still, when she visited the altar where the box sat and lit incense, she felt a bewildered sense of gratitude for its presence.)

He appeared to be bigger–what had once been a slighter, more lithe body had been reformed into a figure with broader shoulders and strong looking hands tipped with claws that appeared to be retracted. His hair had gone wild and long, falling all the way to his waist, and gone was the leather tie with which he'd tamed it (often with little success). There were strange wave patterns that marked the skin on his neck, and she imagined that he was likely covered in them–

There was an eight inch long hole in his abdomen, slashed deep enough to expose a slick rope of intestine, and the blood was bright against his pale flesh–so much of it–and she pressed a compress against it to staunch the flow of blood, looking at his face as it grew paler.

"Tomioka-san! Not today… today is not that day!" she said with calm authority, even as her heart beat wildly in her chest.

And he looked at her through slitted eyes, his voice quiet and resigned when he spoke.
"It might be Kochou… if it is…."

He lost consciousness. She looked at the young lines of his face and the pale, scarred flesh of his shoulders and chest that bore evidence from previous battles, and beneath it all his heart beat a stuttering rhythm.

But it was still beating!

"You must not get sidetracked by looking at what might be lost!" Kanae's voice rang inside her head. "Look at what must be saved!"

–and she felt sick at the thought that the elegant and mortal body that she knew quite well as his doctor, was now alien to her.

When she looked at his face, her stomach (which was already in a rather precarious state) turned sharply. Much of it was as it had been in life, perhaps a bit more severe, his cheekbones more pronounced, and Shinobu could see that something about the set of his mouth was different, likely due to the fact that he now had fangs.

She shuddered.

But it was his eyes that unnerved her. They were slightly larger, just enough so that it was clear he was not human, and the blue that had always been the color of a stormy, sapphire sea, was now an unnatural ultramarine, the pupils turned into feline slits in the bright sunlight.

She felt sick with bitterness and a heavy fatigue settled on her shoulders, threatening to drive her to her knees.

She heard the sound of a door slide open and imagined that Oyakata-sama's wife, Ubuyashiki Amane, was walking toward all of them, about reiterate to them the decree that had already been sent in writing from her husband–who was now too ill to come speak to them himself–things that they all already knew–that this demon would not be harmed, that there were things that they needed to understand, that just as it had been with Nezuko, this demon was different. All of this information swirled through Shinobu's head as the sickness and rage–

and grief

–threatened to swamp her.

She was just shifting her wavering gaze up to look for Ubuyashiki-san, when she perceived a blur of movement to her right. She instinctively drew her sword and moved her feet into a fighting stance, but she was slow and unsteady, so before she could do more, she watched in disbelief–

and horror

–as Shinazugawa-san launched himself into the air, and in one swift, brutal swing, decapitated the demon that had once been Tomioka Giyuu.