"Giyuu-san!" she exclaimed, her voice young and sweet. "Giyuu-san, you are home! You are back with us!"

She clung to him, pressing her face into his shoulder, completely unafraid of him.

Giyuu realized something quite heartbreaking in that moment, and it caused his throat to pull tight with emotion.

He had no memory of ever being embraced like this, with such affection and kindness, and it was so affecting that he found himself raising his arms, wrapping them gently around her, pressing his face to the side of her head, clutching at the fabric of her clothing with his fingers.

After a time she pulled back from him and he looked at her face–

..snow and despair. she stood protectively over someone. new… brand new. how was she doing this? this was… this was something else… something very different… what if?

–and he knew her, not in clear detail, but in the vague way that he often did.

As he stared at her, the thing that had been alluding him about her spirit became clear. It was positively teeming with humanity! Its light was woven through every particle of her being, and it was wrapped around her as well, as if she was swathed in a thick fabric of it. It was astonishing, because he was certain that he was looking at the spirit of a demon.

Looking into her open expression and blushing-rose eyes, the feeling that he knew her overwhelmed him. It was like looking at a warm, welcoming light in the dark, like a beacon, and all he could do was stare at her in stunned silence.

What did it all mean?

The boy moved toward them, though he was still slightly obscured by the shadows where he stood among the wisteria branches, but his hands had relaxed away from his sword and fallen to his sides.

"Is it true, Giyuu? Have you returned to us?" the boy asked sincerely, and he finally stepped out of the shadows.

Before Giyuu could discern anything at all about the boy physically, he was stunned by the sight of another rather extraordinary spirit, though it was entirely different from the girl's. It pulsed with power, and it had a heartbeat of its own that echoed and reverberated with something that was quite old… far older than the boy by centuries. It appeared to Giyuu as a binary, but it was intertwined and layered tightly together, so that there was no way to discern one from the other.

When he could finally tear his eyes away from the boy's spirit, he looked at his face. There he saw an expression full of wonder and careful hopefulness, even as tears fell from his eyes.

… don't cry, don't despair… the boy with a scar and green and black ichimatsu haori kneeling in the snow begging… an axe thrown at his head… this kid!… these two may be different…

Giyuu still had not responded to his question, as his plans for everything remained completely uncertain, and he was too caught up in the strange barrage of memories that flooded him. The boy reached up and wiped the tears from his face, and his lips curved up into the start of a smile that even in its nascent state managed to light up his eyes.

… tell him that Tomioka Giyuu sent you… am I wrong? what if I'm wrong? if that demon eats him? it will be my fault!... don't waste pity on a demon that ate dozens of people…

(...wait…how many people have I eaten?)

When the question emerged in his mind Giyuu flinched, but even though the boy's brow furrowed slightly and his smile faltered, he still stepped closer. Giyuu felt completely overwhelmed as he was swamped with memories of the boy who was human, and yet something more , and the girl who was clearly a demon, but also unique in a way that he did not understand. He tried to swallow to let his voice loose, but all he could do was make a small, helpless sound in his throat.

… take your sister and flee…

They were siblings! And he had been… what had he been to them?

"You have found your way back to us," the girl said sweetly, moving her hands up to cradle his face. He looked back and forth between her and the boy, scraping the edges of his memories, trying to remember their names.

The boy seemed to understand.

"It's Tanjirou," he said, placing his hand on his own chest. "And Nezuko. We were… you were…. Well, you saved us a lot."

Giyuu did not understand it, but he sensed that there was something rather important about the story of the three of them that he was missing, and his heart clenched with grief over the loss of his memories. A tear fell from one of his eyes and splattered heavily on the girl's hand.

…why do you protect her?

"Oh Giyuu-san, please do not be sad. You are okay now… you are with us. And you are like me! You can walk in the sun!"

Giyuu looked at her wretchedly, and he knew to the core of his being that he was nothing– nothing like her. There was a purity in her spirit, and a resolve, truly, it was as pure and unbreakable as a perfect diamond.

And even though it was no longer so, he knew he had been weak and terrible, and he feared that even with his memories returned, were it not for Urokodaki-san's mercy and Lady Tamayo's kind intervention, he might still be little more than a rabid animal, willing to do anything to eat. Willing to kill people like Tanjirou, whose gaze was open with compassion and kindness–indeed it was like looking at the tones of a gentle sunrise that banished the night, bringing with it warmth and safety and the promise of a new beginning.

He shook his head and looked at the ground, more tears falling, as he could not bear to look at them any longer.

What was it about them that left him feeling undone?

"We heard you met with the Hashira today. It must have been hard," Tanjirou said softly.

Was it hard? Harder than this? No… the beheading had been unpleasant, but honestly, he was used to it from his time with Akaza. Maybe the conversation with Kochou had been hard, and before all of that, his first conversations with Urokodaki-san, those too had been difficult.

But somehow he'd known that he'd find the Hashira to be merciless, their hearts sterile ground where no pity bloomed. Of course they were unmoved by the fact that he'd once been one of them, when now he was a killer and the thing that they hunted. A small part of him remembered what it was like to feel so righteous, to be unyielding in his hatred toward the thing he was now.

(And had he not also hated himself back then for some reason he could not recall?)

He sighed heavily.

He heard rustling in the tree over his head, and without thinking he reached out, catching Kanzaburo as he fell out of the tree from above.

"Giyuu! Giyuu! The Wind Hashira tried to kill you!" Kanzaburo squawked indignantly.

"What?" Nezuko cried, and Giyuu realized that in the intervening minutes as he'd stood there in silence and been caught up in the tangle of his thoughts and broken memories of the siblings, she had slipped to his side and had his hair in her fingers, braiding a small section of it.

"Tanjirou, you must speak to Sanemi-san. He can be such a bully. So angry all the time…." She trailed off and continued working on his hair.

Tanjirou regarded him quietly.

"And was that okay… with Oyakata-sama?"

"He was not there as he is too ill—

… you are more worthy than you can imagine…

—but they were told not to attack me. He seemed unable to stop himself."

They were the first words he'd managed to say to either of them.

"Bully," Nezuko repeated under her breath.

"Bully!" Kanzaburo echoed, and Giyuu tucked him close, shushing him.

Tanjirou frowned but nodded his head in agreement. "He can be… enthusiastic."

"Tanjirou!" Nezuko exclaimed, tugging on Giyuu's hair for emphasis. "Giyuu-san stood for us at that Hashira meeting when Sanemi-san was bullying both of us! Do not dishonor his pledge to sacrifice his own life for us by minimizing Sanemi-san's cruelty!"

Giyuu's brow furrowed in question, and he turned to look at her, even though it was hard since she was gripping his hair quite tightly in her hands in her adamance, and had dragged his head down so that he was partially bent over. Kanzaburo was beside himself clamoring in protest.

She pulled her hands away and gasped. "Giyuu-san! I am so sorry! Sometimes I forget my own strength!" Tanjirou started to chuckle, and Nezuko shot him a look, but then she covered her mouth with her hand and began to giggle. Giyuu was bewildered by the entire exchange, but he was grateful for the shift in mood.

"You are very strong," Giyuu replied seriously, but this only made Tanjirou laugh harder, and Nezuko blushed and hid her face in her hands.

Kanzaburo climbed up onto his shoulder to get a better vantage point. Giyuu felt his mouth curve into a small smile. Even though he did not remember them very clearly, he appreciated how earnest and young they both were. It was a relief to hear laughter after such a serious day.

Unfortunately, it did not last, and after a while Tanjirou grew solemn again.

"Are you going to help us in our fight against Muzan?" he asked. The look in his eyes reminded Giyuu of the Flame Hashira, as his expression burned bright with purpose and a resolve that was pure and unrelenting. It was a stark contrast to the laughing face of the boy from only moments before, when he had seemed to be filled with such light.

Giyuu swallowed thickly before he gave the only response he could come up with, "It is complicated."

"Why?" Nezuko asked innocently, and Giyuu realized that without him noticing she had resumed fiddling with his hair, and having completed the first braid, had started on a second. He was vaguely aware that he enjoyed her proximity to him, the gentle intimacy of her playing with his hair–

…it's only a braid, you can pull it tighter, you won't hurt me…

–and it lulled him into being completely honest in his response.

"My maker will perish if Muzan is killed and I don't want him to die."

Tanjirou regarded him with careful seriousness. "But he took your life."

"He gave me another," Giyuu replied solemnly, knowing it was not an adequate response to give to a Demon Slayer.

"But he made you into a demon, Giyuu. You were one of the best of the Hashira, and he took that from you… and turned you into the thing you hated. How can you not want him dead?"

Giyuu could not think of a response that would satisfy him.

"He is his family now," Nezuko responded with a forthright and gentle tone, as if this was a matter of fact, and she reached down and took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Does that mean your maker is my family too, Giyuu?" Kanzaburo asked brightly, and along with Nezuko he began to groom Giyuu gently, taking a bit of his hair and tucking it behind his ear. Giyuu reached up to gently pet his old addled crow, and he dropped his gaze. His heart was heavy with conflict.

Tanjirou pressed carefully. "I recall another family of demons, Giyuu, and you slew their maker without a second thought."

Giyuu was unsurprised by Tanjirou's words, and he tried to remember what had happened, but the memories wouldn't come, so he merely stared at him.

"What makes your maker different from any other?" Tanjirou asked, looking troubled as he gripped the back of his own neck.

Giyuu knew that Akaza was essentially indefensible, so an argument on his behalf was useless. No one wanted Akaza freed except for him. It did not matter if he thought that Akaza might be helpful in this fight. He didn't know whether or not he was still alive, and if he was, if he would even be willing to fight against Muzan.

But he was haunted by the memory of Akaza's body physically pinned to the floor at his feet, like an animal prepared for vivisection.

"When I was freed from the bond to Muzan, he tortured my maker right in front of me," Giyuu said softly, staring out into the night. "Even after that torment, my maker was afraid for me , and he wanted me to escape Muzan. I am sure he was punished for it."

He shook his head, shuddering, and Nezuko patted his shoulder gently.

"He may already be dead… I don't know. But if he is alive, I want him to be free like me."

"Would he be like you, though?" Tanjirou asked gently. "Your scent is not so different from how it was before when you were human. I can tell you are a demon, but I can detect only minor differences in your basic nature. Do you know what your maker was like before he was a demon? Do you know what he'll be like if his bond is broken?"

Giyuu had grown weary of the question, as he'd been asked some version of it by everyone, but he was struck by the oddity of the things Tanjirou had just said, so he hesitated in his response.

As if she could sense his confusion, Nezuko piped up gently in a sing-song tone, "Tanjirou, Giyuu-san probably doesn't remember things from his human life in great detail, so your special nose might be new information for him."

And then to Giyuu–

"It is alright Giyuu-san. I may not understand exactly how you feel, but I know how it has been for me. In the beginning it was like being stuck under dark, murky water. And when things finally did start to become clear, it made no sense because it didn't come all at once and it was all out of order. It still feels like I am trying to put my life back together from the fragments of a dream. I forget words and my memories are jumbled–sometimes it's just voices and faces without any meaning. It's exhausting," she sighed, shaking her head.

(When she spoke, Kanzaburo jumped onto her shoulder and started fussing with her hair, making soft supportive sounds in her ear. She reached up and patted him lightly on the head before resuming the current braid she was working on.)

Giyuu added new questions he had about Nezuko's demonic journey to the list he had about Tanjirou's extrasensory abilities, but set them aside in order to answer Tanjirou as truthfully as he could relating to Akaza's character. He supposed the fact that he felt compelled to do so, was a sign of what Tanjirou must have meant to him in his human life.

"There were things about him that I know now are unusual for a demon–he didn't want to kill women. And he had behaviors and habits that were… sentimental. I didn't realize at the time that they could have been tied to his human memories because I didn't realize either of us had ever been human."

He paused, and looked over his shoulder at Nezuko, who was nodding her head sadly.

"There is nothing that absolves him from the things he's done as a demon, nor is there anything to absolve me. But if the Demon Slayer Corps's leader does not want me killed, and I am just a young demon who knows so little, a demon like my maker, who knows so much about Muzan and his empire, could be very helpful."

Giyuu was silent for a moment before he spoke words that he knew were true for no other reason than he felt it in the marrow of his bones.

"And I think my maker will want to see Muzan defeated. The fact that he defied him for me that morning, knowing there would be consequences… there is rebellion in him."

Giyuu went silent, and Tanjirou stared at him for a long time. Nezuko continued to braid his hair, humming softly to herself.

"Is there–" Tanjirou began quietly, so quietly that his voice was barely above a whisper. "Is there a way to free him?"

Giyuu was about to respond, but Nezuko beat him to it.

"Giyuu's blood. It is very special now. If his maker had Giyuu's blood, he would be freed."

Giyuu looked at Nezuko in surprise, amazed that she could know something like that, but then, she was a rather extraordinary demon.

Again, as if she could read his mind Nezuko said matter-of-factly, "All demon Blood Art has its basis in blood. We are free because our blood is different from Muzan's. Your blood is special–it can cut bonds. I can sense it. But not because I can smell it," she quipped lightly, throwing a playful look at her brother.

Kanzaburo jumped back to Giyuu and settled into his arms. "Giyuu, your blood can cut bonds? Does it hurt?"

Giyuu looked down at the crow, shaking his head and shushing him gently.

Tanjirou smirked at his sister and shook his head lightly. But then his gaze shifted to Giyuu's and there was something different–he was no longer just a boy, or even a young man–there was something ancient and unknowable in his gaze. And his spirit was also changed–the binary had separated into a true dyad, and it appeared as though the older part of it had shifted forward, flaring bright and hot as a summer sun.

"I wonder… such strange demons," Tanjirou murmured softly, and his gaze shifted between Nezuko and Giyuu. He fixed Giyuu with a look that was older than his years by centuries. "You started something Giyuu–I don't know if you can recall it–but you spared Nezuko when you should have killed her. It was a rather bold departure from the rules of the Corps. And then you saved us and stood for us–you staked your life for us. I cannot imagine it was for nothing. Nor can I imagine not doing the same for you, demon or not."

Tanjirou's words stirred something old in Giyuu, something from before , and it flared in him where his demon heart beat.

"I happen to know a couple of demons who took no oaths to the Demon Slayer Corps," Tanjirou said cryptically, looking at Nezuko. Giyuu felt her hands grip his hair tightly again. "And I may be able to help in other ways."

Giyuu nodded at Tanjirou in gratitude, and Tanjirou gave him a gentle smile.

Nezuko pulled a fresh lock of Giyuu's hair free from the other side of his head. "Now, Giyuu-san, I heard you had a long visit with Shinobu-san today at the Butterfly Mansion and there was a lot of gossip about it everywhere. So tell me, how did that go?" she asked innocently in a way that was anything but.

Giyuu turned toward her with a raised brow, ignoring her when she yanked lightly on his hair to try to keep him in place.

When he did not offer a reply, she chuckled softly, "See! Nothing's changed. I don't need a special sense of smell to be able to tell you that, Tanjirou."

"What hasn't changed?" Tanjirou asked, his eyes shifting from Giyuu to Nezuko, a curious look on his face that hinted that he had no idea what she was talking about.

Nezuko shook her head. "Hopeless," she sighed while chuckling softly.

They had been at headquarters for close to a week. Urokodaki had spent time in meetings with various members of the Ubuyashiki family, as well as the demon, Lady Tamayo. His role in the battle Oyakata-sama believed was coming would be supportive in nature, which he accepted mostly due to the fact that he would be caring for Nezuko, who he considered to be one of his own dear children. He was reflecting on the nature of life, with its unexpected twists and turns, when he entered a room to find Giyuu (another one of his children) sitting and looking out of the window. He was attached to some kind of apparatus that appeared to be collecting his blood.

"Are you alright," Urokodaki asked hesitantly.

Giyuu looked up at him for a few moments before he answered. "I am fine. This is for an experiment."

Urokodaki had learned that many experiments were being conducted by members of the Corps in conjunction with Lady Tamayo. It was yet another example of the unexpected complexities of life that Urokodaki was learning to accept.

He elected not to ask any questions about this particular experiment, as he suspected it had something to do with Giyuu's maker. He had never been one to turn a blind eye, however, just as the thought had come to him on that day a little over a month ago when Giyuu had inexplicably returned to him in demonic form, he was again reminded of the grand clockworks of which he'd often mused they were all a part. He believed now more than ever, that the workings were complex beyond his imagining. And since Giyuu's reasoning had always been unfailingly sound, Urokodaki chose to trust him.

Suddenly the Insect Hashira walked into the room.

"Ah, Urokodaki-san, it is good to see you," she said sincerely.

He nodded in her direction.

"Tomioka-san, what are you doing?" she asked in an exasperated tone, eyeing the tubing connecting the vein in his arm to the bottle of blood at his feet.

"Experiments," he replied cryptically.

She raised her brow and a smile spread across her face that Urokodaki could see was not the least bit sincere.

"Hmm… experiments indeed," she scoffed. "That is probably enough blood for one day. You look quite pale, and I have no idea how to treat a demon for blood loss."

Urokodaki looked at her in shock, grateful for his tengu mask. A Hashira treating a demon?

He watched as Giyuu gazed at her with an unabashed expression on his face and she responded to it with a long-suffering sigh, shaking her head slightly.

"Honestly, Tomioka-san, you are hopeless."

Urokodaki looked between the two of them, wondering exactly what he was seeing, and wracking his brain for any information he'd ever gleaned about the Insect Hashira, particularly in relation to Giyuu. He knew they had been colleagues, but beyond that Giyuu hadn't intimated anything else. But Urokodaki knew, when it came to Giyuu, what he expressed out loud had very little to do with his thoughts and feelings.

"I am fine, Kochou," Giyuu sighed.

This had the effect of causing her smile to grow sharp.

"Yes, of course, you are fine. 'My intestines are hanging out, I'm fine Kochou' and 'My collarbone is broken, I'm fine Kochou.' Honestly Tomioka-san, if I had a yen for every time I've heard you say that while you were bleeding out on my floor, I'd be a very rich woman."

The words were sharp to match her smile, but Urokodaki sensed something beneath them that did not match her expression.

And he watched in stunned silence as Giyuu's demonic face grew guilty. It was subtle but plain to Urokodaki, as he's seen the very same expression on his face as a child, when he and Sabito had gotten up to no good.

Kochou looked triumphant, though there were hints of something else. Could it possibly be true concern? And perhaps even affection?

Urokodaki could not believe his eyes. And his heart clenched with sorrow, for it was clear that there had likely been something between them, perhaps not in bloom, but a nascent bud.

And now it could never be.

It was very sad, and he cleared his throat. The sound seemed to startle the Insect Hashira, and she looked at him as though she'd forgotten he was there. Giyuu merely gazed at him in his taciturn way.

"I am sorry Urokodaki-san," she sighed. "He has always been rather exasperating to me."

Urokodaki swallowed to loosen his voice before he responded. "Occasionally, yes. But I have always found him to be more remarkable than anything else. Even as a demon, he continues to surprise me."

Giyuu looked down, his expression self-conscious, so he missed the small smile that appeared on the Insect Hashira's lips.

This one was true.

Shinobu stood outside of the Ubuyashiki family's private quarters and practiced her meditative breathing techniques. But it was hard, because the meeting with Oyakata-sama, Tomioka-san, Urokodaki-san, and Tamayo had been going on for close to an hour, and she was tired of waiting. She understood, of course, that the master was weak and could not handle many guests, but how a demon had managed to get herself invited when no Hashira had been allowed was a mystery.

Perhaps the master was angry with all of them for not stopping Shinazugawa-san from attacking Tomioka-san? It seemed ridiculous, as she had never known Oyakata-sama to get angry over anything, but so many strange things were happening, and she felt very uneasy, and she didn't think it had anything to do with the queasiness she'd been dealing with as of late.

Finally the door slid open, and out walked Tomioka-san and Tamayo. Shinobu leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of the room, but before she could see anything, the door slid shut.

"Where is Urokodaki-san?" she asked irritably, but the question came from a place of deep concern.

"Ubuyashiki-sama asked for him to stay with him for a little while longer. It seemed like… perhaps he wanted to say goodbye," Tamayo murmured, her eyes downcast.

Shinobu's breath caught in her throat, and her gaze shifted to Tomioka-san.

He had been hard to read in life, and his demonic face was no different. Still, there was something vaguely mournful in his expression, for his face held the shadow of a frown, and his gaze was averted.

"Is he so near to the end?" Shinobu whispered, clasping her hands to try to hold herself together. She thought suddenly of Kiriya-kun, and shuddered at the thought of the weight that was poised to fall upon his small shoulders. (She knew something of the feeling, though the scale of the Butterfly Estate was nominal in comparison to the entire Demon Slayer Corps.)

He would soon be the next Ubuyashiki-sama, and they would all depend on him to lead during what his father believed might be the last battle in this terrible, long war.

Tamayo bowed her head further, perhaps to hide her face, and Tomioka-san shifted his gaze to hers. Though he said nothing, the look he gave her was all she needed to understand.

"Let's go back to the mansion," she said quietly. As she walked away she was aware that they had fallen into step behind her, but her thoughts were a tangle of sadness and foreboding. She felt the dizziness and nausea swell, but she fought to maintain her balance.

Soon she would rest, but now was the time for strength.

When they reached the Butterfly Mansion, Tamayo made her excuses to return to her work. Tanjirou and Nezuko met them at the door.

"How is–" Nezuko began, but then she stopped speaking after taking one look at Tomioka-san. "Oh Giyuu-san!" she exclaimed softly, and she rushed to his side, taking his hand in hers. Tanjirou walked toward them, his gaze finding Giyuu's and they shared a look. Shinobu marked the way that they looked at one another.

What a strange little trio they made.

Tanjirou soon made his excuses and left to go train with his comrades and one of the Hashira, though Shinobu had lost track of who it was. Hashira training had been going on for some time now, and she wasn't sure when it would be complete. She looked at Tomioka-san.

His house would have been the last, but now the Water Estate stood empty.

"I am going to see what Yushiro-san is up to," Nezuko said quietly, and Shinobu saw an odd look pass between the two demons.

When Nezuko was gone Shinobu turned to him.

"You and Nezuko have become quite close, I've noticed," she stated carefully.

"Hm," he responded, although he was clearly distracted.

His reticence irritated her (as it always did), and she felt her face shift into her mask, fortifying her to face her sickness and concern over what was to come.

"I hope you are not drawing her into whatever plans you have regarding your maker," Shinobu said in her singsong voice that was anything but sweet. "Nezuko has only recently regained some of who she was before she was made into a demon, and the ability to speak only returned after she conquered the sun. But I do not think she is quite her human self yet. Which means that I am not sure that she is making decisions the way she would as a human. I do not want her to do anything that she might regret later, Tomioka-san."

He remained preoccupied. "I understand, Kochou," was his reply.

"Do you?" she asked sharply, her irritation with his distraction intensifying. "I wish that you too would reconsider. You know Tomioka-san, it is possible that the work that Lady Tamayo has done for Nezuko could be applied to you… perhaps you too could be restored to your former self."

Tomioka-san's attention snapped to Shinobu, his expression cold.

"No."

"No?" Shinobu asked, surprised by his quick and rather vehement response.

He regarded her in silence.

"Why not?" she pressed, feeling confused and angry.

He seemed to be considering his words.

Finally, after some time, he responded, "Nezuko is different. She has been different from the beginning. That is not the case with me," he replied quietly.

"But why could you not at least try?" she asked, her smile becoming tighter in her frustration.

Again, he lapsed into silence, and when it stretched too long, Shinobu lost her patience with waiting.

"Tomioka-san!?"

He turned his back to her before he spoke.

"Because I've killed. I am nothing like Nezuko," he replied bitterly.

Shinobu felt the smile freeze on her face, and she suddenly felt as though she was going to be sick. This was not new information to her, of course. But perhaps in the brief time since he'd returned, she'd somehow managed to repress the fact of his crimes.

Because she had a lot on her mind.

But it was more than that, and Shinobu felt ashamed when she realized the reason for it. The words came out of her mouth without thinking.

"You are right Tomioka-san. You are nothing like Nezuko," she said quietly. "Still, it is rather strange, because I find it easier to like you now."

He turned back to her slowly, his face contorting in confusion, but he did not otherwise respond to her confession.

Which was rather typical.

"I suppose it is because you are more willing to put words to your thoughts and actions, and so I understand you better," she said, suddenly feeling quite tired, and her mask slipped from her face, leaving her vulnerable.

He looked at her, and his brow furrowed in concern. "This plan of yours is killing you, Kochou. There is…." he trailed off.

"What?" she asked.

He looked at her, and Shinobu detected a slightly mournful expression on his taciturn face.

"I can detect the scent of death coming from you. The damage you've done… it may be irreparable."

Shinobu smiled softly, but this time it was not her mask. "Ah Tomioka-san, that is almost definitely true," she said wistfully. "The battle has been to try to keep myself alive long enough to see this thing through."

He blinked at her, but did not reply. Perhaps he did not know what to say. But then–

"What if I was there to help?" he asked softly, all of his former coldness giving way to what looked like concern. The offer took her by surprise and she gazed at him for many moments as she tried to put words to her feelings.

"I do not want your help, Tomioka-san," she said vacantly, shifting her gaze away. "I want my vengeance. It is the thing that I long for more than anything else."

"Even more than your own life?"

She turned to smile at him bitterly.

"Yes."

"It makes no sense, Kochou. Surely Tamayo could have come up with another option–"

She cut him off, "So are we both looking to Tamayo now to intervene in the interest of the other? As if freeing your beloved Kizuki maker is sensible?" she asked ruefully, pushing to change the subject.

His jaw snapped shut, and his expression resumed its coolness.

"You forget, Tomioka-san, that we are on rather different paths. And I am fairly certain that neither of them are advisable. But now it is clear to me that perhaps we are not so different in our stubborn ways," she said, and her tone turned mournful.

He was silent for a time, but then he said quietly, "Perhaps."

He did not go on, and even though she wished he would, she recognized that there really wasn't anything more to say. She felt dizzy enough to faint, and she wished suddenly to sit quietly in the fresh air.

"Accompany me to the engawa, Tomioka-san? The moon is quite lovely tonight, and I wish to look upon it."

He merely nodded at her, and shifted to allow her to take the lead.

When they reached the engawa they sat side by side and looked out into the night. Shinobu wondered at the strangeness of life, that she could find contentment sitting quietly in the moonlight with a demon.

Would Kanae be proud?

She supposed, with more regret than she would have likely experienced a week ago, she would soon find out.

Akaza walked toward the building, placing one foot in front of the other efficiently, mechanically. It was how he did most things now. He moved through the world without much thought or feeling, just a creature on a mission, one he shunned and kept walled off at the back of his mind. Best not to think at all. He simply glided forward with no interest in the future and a firm self-created mental block between him and the fractured memories of his past.

But the building called to him as it often did at this time of year, and though he was certain he could get in trouble for taking a detour from his mission, he had come here in a manner that seemed coincidental, even to him, drawn closer like a magnet pulled toward its opposite pole. He leapt from the ground onto the roof, moving to the edge. He could smell the sulfur of the gunpowder, and it called to mind memories that were now so tangled into a snarl of hurt, that he could not separate fiction from reality. He stilled, waiting for things to begin.

Suddenly he sensed another demon very nearby. It leapt up on the roof and stood still, waiting. He looked out of the corner of his eye in its direction.

"I do not wish to be bothered. Go away and I will let you live," he said tightly.

"Are you the demon called Akaza?" came a soft female voice. He turned to look at her. She stood at the other end of the roof, and Akaza could see that she was a young demon who had been turned when she was still just a child. But something was peculiar about her. Her fighting spirit was different from any he'd ever seen before, and he found this rather odd. Curiosity, a feeling that had been lost to him since his torture in the Infinity Castle, curled its finger at him, beckoning him to look closer.

"What are you?" he asked, as many questions popped into his mind. For the being before him was definitely a demon, and yet there was something else there, something that clung to her fighting spirit. He took a few confident steps in her direction, staring at her and trying to sense something–anything that would help him understand.

"There is something rather odd about you… it is entwined with your spirit, like there is something wrapped around and within, vining through you, holding your…." he trailed off.

Humanity . He could see it there, a bright warmth that threaded through her, but it wasn't anything near as fragile as thread–what he saw had the strength of steel.

"If you are Akaza, you must come here right now," she commanded, and her voice was firm, but careful, as if she was afraid to spook him.

But Akaza wasn't one to be spooked, and now he was rather curious, for he could see that although she was young, there was strength in her body that shouldn't be there. Demonic strength took decades to build, and he estimated she was no more than two or three years into her demon life. And it was only achievable through killing and consuming human blood. How had a demon with so much humanity been able to kill? Or had she somehow been able to accrue strength without it?

What was she?

He continued to walk towards her, and although he was perplexed by the things he saw in her, he sensed no danger.

"I am Akaza. How did you come to be like this?" he asked, and he could not help but be drawn to her. He knew he should be trying to wrest his mind away from her spirit, for he was mesmerized by it.

His interest could draw attention to him… attention he did not want.

She stood her ground as he approached, and he realized that she appeared to grow younger the closer he came, as though she was trying to appear to be less and less of a threat. He understood something then, just as the first fireworks exploded over their heads.

He was being lured.