Here's the next chapter, hope you'll enjoy it.

djinn - Thank you so much, it'll be very interesting to say the least. Michael hates demons, Tamayo and Yushiro are demons who help Slayers. It's...going to be difficult. Hope you'll enjoy the next chapter.

Guest - Thanks so much. From what I can find, there's no reason why an upper rank demon can't turn animals into other demons. The author hasn't never mentioned it and there's nothing in the forums, so I thought 'what the hell' and did it. Michael is going to have a difficult time trying not to kill them and, in this chapter, you'll see the effects that they'll have on him. Tomioka (fem) and Yae are going in the harem, if you would like to recommend anybody else then please do so.

I know it's late, but I hope you have had a happy Christmas and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

wellingtonlucas282 - No problem, thank you so much for reading.

Bel Gian - Thank you so much, you're honestly too kind. It's readers like yourself that encourages to make more so thank you. I do hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

Randomguy0110100100110 - It's definitely going to be interesting and very, very slow progress. Thanks so much for reading.

kynan99 - No problem, thanks for reading.

Thank you all for reviewing, I hope you'll enjoy the chapter :)

Chapter 8: The Doctor

Tamayo's Medical Practise, Tokyo

Michael slammed his fist into the demon's face so hard that he stumbled backwards into the house, but he quickly recovered and shot forwards. The Slayer had only just unholstered his katana when the demon grabbed at the hand holding the blade. He rammed his knee into hilt of the sword, making Michael lose his grip and drop it; the demon then kicked away from his reach. He didn't have time to pick it up before he sensed the demon swipe with his clawed hand at his head and ducked. The demon's hand hit the side of his jingasa and hissed in pain as the brim sliced through it, making him reel back; allowing Michael to kick him hard in the stomach.

The demon fell backwards, the wind knocked out of him, which gave Michael time to pull out his dagger and charge at him. The green haired demon's eyes widened as he leapt onto his feet and ducked under a swipe from the green blade. Michael did not give up and continued to stab, swipe and strike at him while the demon dodged left and right while retreating, not allowing him to get a moment of rest.

The eyes of the demon searched desperately around the hallway before finally setting his sights on a wooden table with a vase on it behind him. He leapt back, grabbed the leg of the table whilst gently placing the vase on the ground and threw it at Michael. Sensing the object flung at him, he battered it away with his arm. It only served as a distraction as the demon leapt at him with his claws aimed at his throat. Michael grabbed his wrists and the two entered a struggle; the Slayer tried to force his dagger into his throat while the demon tried to claw at his face as the fought over dominance.

Eventually, the demon was able to push him back hard and slam him against the wall so hard that the plaster cracked. Michael grunted in pain, but still held onto to his wrists as tightly as he could. He raised his foot and placed it on the wall behind him and took a deep breath; gaining as much power as possible with his Total Concentration Breathing. He felt the air fill his lungs, his muscles strengthen and his blood pump faster and faster around his body; the air around him whipped around them, earning a confused look from the demon.

With a fierce cry, he put the other foot against the wall and launched himself off it with incredible strength. He rammed into the demon and knocked him off his feet and slammed him through the shoji door opposite. They both fell into the next room with Michael pinning the demon beneath him; with a snarl stretched across his face, he raised his dagger over his head, aimed the point at the demon's neck and was about to bring it down...

...when suddenly a soft hand gently held his wrist, halting him from killing the demon.

He frowned in confusion and sensed somebody else a beautiful young woman standing over him. She had long dark brown hair braided back into a low bun and held together with a floral pin, pale skin, large, gentle lavender-coloured eyes and red lips. She wore a purple floral-patterned Homongi kimono and a cream-coloured obi around her waist. He could sense her smiling kindly down whilst holding a cup of green tea in her other hand and gave off an aura of welcoming despite the fact that he was about to kill a demon right in front of her. He did not know whether it was her strength or some unknown element he couldn't conceive, but he knew that she was a demon as well.

"Good evening, Michael. It has been a while, hasn't it," she softly said, "Can you please refrain from decapitating my assistant."

"Lady Tamayo," the demon that Michael had pinned barked aggressively, "Do not worry, I've got the intruder exactly where I need him. I'll deal with him now."

'Tamayo!?' Michael thought in shock.

The woman shook her head, "Now, now, Yushiro. I'm sure all of this is a misunderstanding," she looked down at Michael, "You must have come a long journey. Will you join us for some tea?"

'Yushiro!?' Michael, once again, thought in shock, 'These are the people Yamamoto were talking about? The medics who treated my injuries? They're demons!?' he shouted in his head before he sighed and lowered the dagger to his side, "You have got to be kidding me?' he muttered.

A Few Minutes Later

After retrieving his sword, Tamayo had poured Michael a cup of tea and they all settled down; kneeling on mats around a small table. He could practically feel Yoshiro's glare burn into him from the other side of the table, but kept his mouth shut since Tamayo ordered him to. The doctor was kneeled beside Michael having unwound his bandages to inspect his eyeless face; he only allowed her to do just as long as he was allowed to keep his katana at his side in case she does something suspicious to him. She finally gave a satisfied hum to signify she was done before she picked up a new roll of bandages and wrapped it around his head.

"I'm pleased to see they have healed properly. You have taken great care of them. Are you sure you don't want something else other than bandages? It's quite a bother changing them frequently?" she asked kindly.

"They're fine. Just get it over with," Michael grumbled.

"Don't you dare use that tone with Lady Tamayo!" Yushiro snapped, "How can you be so ungrateful after everything she has done for-"

"Yushiro," Tamayo warned with a small look, immediately shutting him up. She finally tied off the bandages and moved away back to her side of the table, "I can't say I blame you, Michael. I assume Yamamoto trained you to become a Slayer; fighting and taking missions for the past years thinking that all demons are evil; it must have been quite the shock when you arrived here."

"Yes it was," he admitted with a sigh, "however…I guess I am grateful for saving me. I would have died if it wasn't for you. Thank you, Lady Tamayo…and sorry for destroying your house."

"It's quite alright."

"What about me!?" Yushiro cried, "Aren't you going to apologise for attacking me!?"

Michael cocked an eyebrow, "Apologies for what? You attacked me?"

"You attacked me first!"

"Consider it payback for trying to get rid of me when I was brought here," he calmly replied.

"How the hell do you remember that!?"

"How could I not remember such a snivelling, pathetic voice?"

"Why you little-"

"Now, now you two. That's enough,," Tamayo sharply said, cutting of their argument before it could escalate. She sipped her tea before looking over at Michael, "Now what brings you here. I can only guess that it is important."

Yushiro sniffed crossly, "It's not about your father, is it?"

"Actually, no it isn't. I assume that you two also have no idea where he is either."

"I'm afraid so," the doctor confirmed with a saddened frown, "Edward is as secretive as the Corps. We sometime don't hear from him for months or years."

"Good thing too. He brings nothing but trouble," Yushiro muttered, but shut up when Tamayo sent a glare at him.

"I'm beginning to think that nobody knows where he is," Michael muttered in English, "Anyway, this is something else. I was battling a demon on the outskirts of Yamamoto's village…"

He proceeded to explain to them what had happened that night; everything from the shadow demon kidnapping Satoshi, his battle and how he defeated it the first time. However, it was the part after that the two demons keenly listened to. How his blood dripped into the shadow demon's mouth and regenerated him even after his head was cut off. Not only that, but he seemed to have some control over the demon, making him follow his commands by merely talking. After he was done, Yushiro was frowning irritably at the floor while Tamayo gently sipped her tea.

"This is...troublesome," Yushiro muttered, "I can't believe we are burdened with another one of you."

"One of me? What are you talking about?" Michael inquired.

Tamayo put her cup down, stood up and went into the other room. Once she came back, she was carrying a tray holding a few test tubes sitting in a holder and a gauge needle linked to one of the test tubes by a longer rubber tube. She placed the tray beside him before she kneeled down by his side.

"I hope you don't mind, but I need to take a sample of your blood," she kindly requested. Michael obviously didn't like this and it made it clear by shooting her a vicious snarl. However, the doctor nodded in understanding, "If you suspect anything from me then do please feel free to decapitate me. After all, I wouldn't want one of my patients feeling uncomfortable."

Michael maintained the snarl for a few more seconds before sighing and started to take off the top part of his uniform so he could show her his arm.

After sterilising the needle and setting up the equipment, Tamayo softly inserted the needle into his left shoulder and kept pressure on it as the blood flowed into the needle, through the tube and dripped into the test tube. Michael, completely unfazed by the process since he's had way worse injuries, couldn't help but sense the anger radiating off Yushiro. He seemed to glare daggers at him at the fact that he was half topless right next to the doctor.

"How shameful," he could hear him spit under his breath, "Exposing your chest right beside a lady like Lady Tamayo. Go die, you cretin. Go die. Go die."

Michael gave a ghost of smile at that before he gave a fake hiss as if he was pain, "Ow!"

"Oh," Tamayo uttered in surprise, "My apologies this isn't hurting you, is it?"

"It just stings...a little," he lied, "Do you mind if I hold your other hand? It might relieve the pain a little," he asked, making Yushiro's eye twitch in fury.

Tamayo gave a small giggle, "Why, of course," she said, reaching out and softly holding Michael's other hand.

"Thank you," he said as he felt her cold, but comforting hand in his.

He waited until she had turned her attention away again before shooting Yushiro a mischievous and mocking smirk. The male demon looked as if he was going to explode in rage as a ferocious fire blazed in his eyes, but kept it under wraps. Tamayo hated being distracted while performing any medical procedure and so opted to silently snarl and curse the Slayer under his breath.

"We have come across this before," Tamayo said, snapping the two men out of their spat, "And if this is what I fear it is...then it can be both a blessing and a curse."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"A few years ago, way before you were born, Yushiro and I came across a man that had similar traits that you have described. At first we assumed that he was a Marechi, gave him some items to ward of demons and suggested that he be more careful when traveling around the country. But when he told us that the ward were ineffective and the demons kept on coming, he insisted that I run some tests on his blood. That's when I found something...very interesting. Michael how much do you know about blood types?"

"I know it's a fairly new study," he admitted, "Blood can fit in one of eight categories. Positive or Negative A, B, AB or O."

"Indeed," Tamayo confirmed, "The classification of blood depends on presence or absence of antibodies and antigens in a red blood cell. The eight categories are a simplification as there can be numerous amounts of antigen combination that a blood cell can fit into. However, when we tested the man's blood...we found that his blood type did not fit in any combination at all. This is something that has never happened before in terms of medical history," Michael cocked his eyebrow in intrigue at that, ushering her to continue as she took the needle out of his arm, "This means that his blood type is incredibly rare...so rare that it isn't recognised to exist by anybody in the medical field. We called it Golden Blood."

"Golden Blood," Michael murmured as he put his top on again, "Is that bad? Does that mean it's more valuable to demons then a Marechi?"

Tamayo carefully began to pack up her equipment, "Not entirely. The lack of antigen combination means you blood is compatible for any blood transfusion, but if you require a transfusion yourself...well, then it'll be impossible. However, it is worse when you are Slaying demons. Golden Blood is also compatible with the blood that...that man gives to transform humans into demons. It strengthens them way past their limits with a few drops; they are faster, stronger, quicker to regenerate. With enough blood, a simple demon can be as powerful as upper class demon," she gave a tiered sigh before looking at him with saddened eyes, "Michael...that man that we tested on was your father, but his blood could simply bring demons back from the brink of death. If what you say is true...then your blood will be much more powerful than his."

Michael face turned pale at this revelation, "Is this why Muzan needs me so much?"

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT MAN'S NAME!" Yushiro roared, slamming his fists down on the table.

Michael ignored him and turned towards Tamayo, "That's why, isn't it? Why my father went into hiding and why he's looking for me...he wants to make his demons stronger using my blood," he uttered in horror, 'I can't imagine what this would do. I know Tomioka was able to defeat the stronger shadow demon, but what he makes them much stronger. It could put more people in jeopardy, maybe obliterate the Corps. If I get captured then it could even mean the end of the world.'

He felt a Tamayo's soft hand on his wrist, snapping him out of his thoughts, "However, there's a silver lining. Please follow me."

She and a bitter Yushiro led him out of the room and down a flight of stairs to the house's basement; Michael had to be careful with where he was going as there was no wind there for him to sense and relied mainly on Tamayo's instructions. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the chilly, stone-walled basement, he began to hear the unmistakable growls of demons echoing off the walls and reached for his katana.

"No need for that," Yushiro muttered as he saw his actions, "these are our patients and, for the safety of others as well as their own safety, they are kept in cells."

The growls of the demons turned into blood-thirsty roars as they caught sight of the human that entered. They began to shake the metal bars that contained them, biting them and poking their arms through in order to snatch at him. Michael clamped his jaws shut to control himself; if his will was any less stronger he would have slaughtered every single one.

"What is this place?"

"You could call it our ward," Tamayo answered as she led him deeper into the basement "We keep recently transformed demons who had yet tasted human flesh. Yushiro and I also reside here whenever there is daylight. There are three of them; two men and a woman; their names, back when they were humans, were Rei, Aoi and Kenji. Without our help I'm sure that they will kill the closest human they can find."

Michael frowned in confusion, "Why the hell would you keep them here? What if they escape?"

Tamayo gently patted his shoulder to gain his attention, "I assure you that they cannot escape. We made sure of it. We brought you here to demonstrate your Golden Blood capabilities. In the wrong hands, your blood can be used for devastation, but it could also help humanity win over the demons," she explained, "You told us that you were able to take control of the shadow demon. If my theory is correct, then maybe your blood is too compatible with that man's own blood to the point that his influence is overwhelmed. If more of your blood is transfused into a demon then it might mean that that man's blood can be suppressed and his hold on them loosens," "With these three test subjects and your permission of course, we can transfused a single dosage of your blood into their tainted blood stream. We'll note down the effects, how long they last and try to see if there any side effects. Over a space of a few months or years, we will increase the dosage and study its effects. We attempted to do this with your father, but...it was not enough; his blood was overwhelmed by the power of that man's blood. However, we have another chance," her gentle smile turned into an excited grin, "We can finally turn the tides of this war and bring in a new age of peace where humanity does not have to fear about going out after dark. Michael, with enough study and tests, we could cure every demon from their curse. You can be the answer we are all waiting for. Isn't that wonderful?"

Michael's stomach dropped as she said that; feeling unsettled by that fact. It was one thing being able to control demons, but curing them...that didn't sit right with him.

"Yes...wonderful," he simply said.

It was clear by the way Tamayo's grin dropped from her face that she knew exactly what he felt; a small glint of disappointment evident in her eyes; she didn't voice her thoughts however, but instead turned to Yushrio with a pleasant smile.

"Yushiro, would you mind packing everything away and store the blood sample in a safe place."

"Of course, my lady," he replied as he walked back up the stairs.

She turned back to Michael with a polite look, "My apologies, but we are planning on going out shopping before you came along and we need to do it during the night. I hate to ask you to leave, but-"

"No, no. I understand," he said hesitantly, "Thank you for your hospitality."

"You are most welcome. I'll see you out."

Tamayo helped Michael lead back to the front door; the both of them didn't say a word to each other until she opened the door for him.

"Thank you and please feel welcome to come again," she told him as he stepped out of the door outside, "I'll continue to experiment on your blood more. If something arises, I'll be sure to alert you."

"Right," Michael grumbled over his shoulder, "Thank you again for having me."

He only took one step before she spoke out again, making him stop, "I hope you don't mind me asking...but I can't help but feel that you are...uncomfortable with the idea of curing demons. Isn't that what you want?"

Michael looked back at her with a questioning look, "Does it matter what I want? If it's for the betterment for everybody then I can't argue with that. You do your experiments...if you want more blood then send a crow to me."

"I see. My apologies for asking, but, like I already said, I wouldn't want one of my patients feeling uncomfortable," she told him calmly.

The two fell silent once again; only the soft whisper of the wind made any sort of sound. Eventually, Michael spoke up once again.

"Lady Tamayo, I hope you don't mind me asking, but how long have you been a demon?"

The doctor gave a forced smile, "Not at all. I was transformed over five hundred years ago."

"Five hundred years," he repeated, "And you have survived that long without feasting on humans."

"No. At first I ate animals and human corpses, but I have never killed and eaten a live human being."

"And why is that?"

"Because I didn't want to."

"Is that it?"

"What other reason is necessary. If I don't want to then I don't want to," she cocked her head to the side, the polite smile vanish from her lips, "I prefer curing others than causing more harm to those already suffering under the demon's curse...do you not agree?"

Michael gritted his teeth together, "I don't think I do," he said as he turned back around again, "I think some of them are too far gone to be cured. I have witness what a demon does. They deserve to suffer."

A flash of disgust flashed over Tamayo's face as she fought down a snarl, "Do you enjoy killing those weaker than you?"

He stopped in his tracks once again and called out over his shoulder, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's only a question," she coldly replied, "Surely, you can answer it without any trouble. During your initiation into the Corps, how many demons that you manage to kill? Ten? One hundred? One thousand? Was it enough to satisfy your appetite or are you still hungry for more bloodshed?"

He turned fully around and snarled, "I had no choice. It was part of the test."

"And I bet you loved every single moment of it."

"Every last second," he agreed with anger in his tone, "And I do not regret killing a single one. The were so many of us to begin with and at the end there was barely a handful. They were children...children who should be at school and enjoying their youth...and the demons slaughtered and ate them. Demons not care about us; they will consume and consume until there is nothing left. I want to live in a world where children don't have to go through what I have. And if that means facing an army of demons then so be it."

"I understand. Kill the enemy before they kill you."

"Isn't that how the world works?"

"It shouldn't have to be," she answered in a deadly tone, "You still haven't answered my question. Do you enjoy killing those weaker than you?"

"I enjoy killing demons."

"There are demons who are stronger than you and there are demons who are weaker than you. It's is the same with the human population. The instinct that because you are stronger, faster, smarter or superior than somebody else is a common one. But it is far stronger for those who have a history of being weak once."

"Are you calling me a bully?" Michael growled, "This isn't a children's playground. It's either kill or be killed. There is no such thing as weak or strong demons, just demons that need to be exterminated."

"We use to be humans once."

"Well, you're not now," Michael spat as he turned and walked away, "I'm more concerned with protecting those who are living rather than those who already are dead."

"Are you!?" she called out angrily, "Or perhaps you are using it as an excuse to take revenge for every misfortune you have had. Or maybe because you don't want them to think you're that poor, frail little boy who was blinded because he was too weak to protect himself."

A breath of wind flowed over and the next thing she saw was Michael standing before he with his katana pointed at her throat. He wore a cold, stony expression as he loomed over her; fury evident in his action. However, Tamayo barely flinched from his action and simply glared back at him.

"You may frighten some demons...but I see you for who you really are. A scared little boy who takes his anger out on demons," she leaned in closer, the tip of the sword almost brushing against her throat, "A human who is given a gift of power and uses it to get revenge on others for mistreating them...do you know what you reminds me of? A demon, Mr Buchannan," she glanced up at his emblem on his jingasa, "Or is it...Timere now?" she stepped back and turned around to go back into the house, "Demons are created, not born. The demons you slay were human once upon a time. As soon as you learn that the reality you created yourself is fake and you discover that some things are not always in black and white, then you are more then welcome to return. Otherwise, stay away from here and never call on me again. I will continue my research on your blood out of the goodness of my heart, because I truly care for the wellbeing of all...not just pretending to be," she glanced over her shoulder, "The quicker you learn your lesson, the less painful it will be...good night, Mr Timere."

And with that, she closed the door behind her.

Michael gritted his teeth as he seethed with rage. He holstered his blade, turned around and stormed off back to where the exit was.

Streets Of Tokyo

Half an hour later and Michael was still livid.

Kaze and Angellos were waiting for him outside, but he immediately told them to go away and not bother him; he decided to walk down the backstreets of the ward so he could cool his head. The roads were empty and the few streetlights present only lit up the area dimly; he only encountered a few people; drunks, beggars, couples who wanted some privacy; however, once they caught sight of Michael stalking past with his head low and his hands shoved into his pockets, they quickly avoided him like the plague. Michael snarled and ground his teeth in rage as her words echoed in his head.

'Damn her! How dare she say that to me!?' he thought bitterly, 'Demons are nothing but scum who deserve to die. She and that other one may be exceptions, but I know that can kill anytime they want. There is never going to be a demon that will truly care about the innocent; they only care for themselves. I've worked so hard and for so long; I don't need this shit from her,' as he went between two houses, he slammed his fist into the wall of one of them, 'That was nothing more then a waste of time. Why the hell did Yamamoto send me here,' he gave a weary sigh and pushed himself off the wall, 'I guess I'll leave and think of my next step. It's too dangerous being in a major city anywa-'

He stopped suddenly when his senses alerted him to something; he used his Breathing and turned his head to the right down the alleyway; a vicious snarl appeared on his face...

...there's a demon close by.

He slowly crept down the alleyway and came out on another road; on the other side was a wooden, portable kiosk with steam from a pot of boiling broth billowed out the back. An elderly man was inside it chopping up vegetables to add to the pot, but that was not what caught his attention. Sitting on a wooden bench in front of the kiosk was a young petite girl who looked to be in her mid-teens maybe even younger. She had long black wavy hair, the ends of which were a dark orange, which reached to her waist, fair skin, and bright pink eyes that seemed to shine despite the lack of light in the area. She wore a light pink kimono with an asanoha pattern, a red and white checked obi and a dark brown haori; however by far the most distinct feature was the green bamboo muzzle in her mouth secured by a red cloth wrapped around her head. She glanced up and down the street as if she was waiting for somebody to return, but other then that made no other movement.

Michael gripped his katana tightly in his grip; he knew that this was a demon. He just wondered why the wind didn't whisper danger to him like it usually does when he encounters one.

'What the hell is it doing?' he thought, 'It's just sitting there. Maybe it's too weak to fight alone and is waiting for another demon to come along. Either way...' he drew his katana and held it to his side, '...I need to dispose of it before it kills anybody.'

He calmly cross the street towards the demon so he didn't draw attention from the elderly kiosk owner; the last thing he needed was an bystander witnessing something like this. The demon immediately noticed him as he walked up to her; she glanced down at the blade in his hand before looking up at him and tilting her head innocently. Michael loomed over her and frowned in confusion; she was a demon and she saw his katana, surely she should at least do something. After a few seconds of nothing, Michael growled in annoyance.

"Well, come on."

The demon stared up at him in curiously like a fascinated child.

"Aren't you going to attack me?"

Because of her muzzle, she merely gave a muffled sound in confusion.

"You're a demon. Do I need to slit my wrists to show what you need to do," he muttered.

The demon, however, blinked blankly before, to his utter shock, shook her head.

'What the hell?' Michael thought before he realised what was going, 'She's lulling me into a false sense of security. This must be a trap,' he used his Breathing to check if there are any demons in hiding; ready to spring out from the rooves or run out of the alleys to attack him...however, there was nobody; just the one demon right in front of him, 'This doesn't make sense. Why isn't trying to kill me!?'

Unaware to Michael, as he was turning his head left and right in search of demons, the young demon happened to look up to see underneath his jingasa and the bandages around his face. She frowned sadly, stood up and slowly approached him; Michael jumped in shock as he saw the demon coming towards him and snapped his blade up so it pointed at her chest.

"Stay back now," he growled, "Or I'll end your miserable life right now."

However, the demon, to his astonishment, didn't seem to be deterred by neither his threat nor his blade and moved around to get closer to him. What surprised him even more was that he let her do it; for the past few years he had trained to react to any threats that were got too close to him, but now it seemed like it didn't want to react to her approach; it was as if his body knew she wasn't a threat.

She was merely a few centimetres away that she stopped before he sensed her reach both hands up to his face. She wasn't tall enough however and gave an annoyed huff in response. She then suddenly began to slowly grow in height and in age; she transformed into a small girl of twelve to a young woman of seventeen in only a few seconds. Once she was tall enough, she calmly reached up and felt the bandages that covered where his eyes should be and gave a sad whine as if she was upset about it. Michael was still in shock by her actions, but soon snapped out of it and pushed her away; he raised his katana above his head; poised to strike it at her neck.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, "I don't what the hell you are doing, but it's not going to work on me. Attack me now."

The demon simply cocked her head, frowned in concern and made a saddened noise from behind her muzzle.

"I'm going to kill you," he snapped, "Don't look at me like that. Do something! Anything! Don't you demons want to eat humans! Isn't that all you do!?"

Despite his threats, even he knew that they were nothing but empty. He didn't know why he was reluctant to slay this demon in particular. Was it because she wasn't attacking first? Or was it the look of sympathy she was giving him? Or was it simply because she looked more human than demon? For the first time since he became a Slayer, Michael Timere was starting to doubt whether he should kill a demon.

"I'm…I'm going to give you to the count of three to…do something. Run, fight, beg for your life; anything except looking at me like…like that…" he told her in a shaky breath, "…1…"

The demon didn't move an inch as she stared up at him with a gentle look.

"…2…"

His mouth fell dry and he began to shake; sweat began to pour down his forehead nervously.

"…3!"

At the last second, the demon finally moved, but she didn't try to dodge or attack him like he had hoped for…the small demon stepped up to him and hugged him around the waist.

Once again, Michael was overcome in shock and stood still, trying to process what was happening. Her small arms were not enough to wrap all around him, but it was comforting all the same. She pressed the side of her head to his chest and made a soft cooing noises.

Michael lost his concentration and dropped his Breathing so he was back to seeing nothing…but he didn't feel alone this time.

He couldn't remember the last time he was warmly embraced by another person. His mother had never hugged him before and it had been years since his father had done it as well. It felt wonderful; the simple gesture of knowing that somebody cares for him felt like a weight had been lifted of his shoulders even if she was a demon. In a split second, the hardships he had been through, the nightmares of the war that still haunt him and the pain of never seeing again seemed to disappear; for the first time in years, Michael felt at peace.

His grip loosened and the sword fell out of his hand, the tip embedding in the soft ground behind him. His face turned from a vicious snarl to an expression of utter disbelief. There was a sob threatening to leave his throat but he managed to fight it down; if he still had eyes, he was sure that he shredded some tears. His mind was completely numb, but he managed to push her off of him and stumble back away from her.

He had faced many demons before; ones three times the size of him, one's faster and stronger than him and, on a few occasions, groups of demons all attacking him at once.

But this was the first demon that made him retreat.

"W-what the hell-" he uttered, "w-what-"

"Hey!" he jumped at the sound of a new voice, using his Breathing he sensed that the elderly man had finally noticed him, "What are you doing talking to that girl!? Get away from her!"

Michael didn't hesitate, he turned stiffly around and fast walked back into the dark alleyway he had emerged from, leaving his katana behind. He noticed that the demon watched him leave, but he just ignored her and ran down the backstreets until he couldn't sense her anymore.

Once he knew he was far enough, he stumbled and fell upon his knees and knees onto the hard ground; his entire body trembled and sweat began to roll down his face as if he had a fever. His mind was clouded in confusion and it began to make him feel sick.

'W-what?' he thought, 'I don't get it. Why didn't she attack me? That's what all demons do?'

Tamayo's words echoed in his mind, getting louder and clearer as he thought of them.

'Demons are created, not born. The demons you slay were human once upon a time.

Michael shook his head to rid himself of the memory, 'But they're not human anymore. That's the point. It is the duty of a Slayer to kill demons before they harm anybody. Surely I can't be doing something wrong if it's for the greater good of everyone. This is what we have to do,' he told himself before he thought back to his encounter with the demon from before and his meeting with Tamayo and Yushrio, 'But…they are not like the other demons. They are civil. Kind. Even caring. So, what does that mean? Am I supposed to kill demons or not? I want to protect the innocent from demons, but the people who were turned into demon were innocent victims. So, is what I am doing right or wrong?' he felt a sob rise up from his throat, 'Does that mean…the demons I killed…tortured…and mutilated…were just innocent people who fell victim of Muzan? Does that make me as bad as him?'

He felt the cold wind blow over him which sent chills to roll down his spine. He began to tremble more as his legs couldn't find their strength. He was completely paralysed, pathetically kneeling in the middle of the deserted backstreet. Before he could make the effort to do anything, he suddenly heard a voice whisper from down an alleyway.

"Hello...is somebody there?"

He used his Breathing to sense who was there, but, strangely enough, he couldn't detect anybody. He raised his head and turned towards where the voice came from and gasped in shock. Not too far away, walking out of the shadows of the alley, was a young man with short black hair wearing a simple green kimono. His skin was a sickly pale colour as if the life had been drained from him and there were dark rings around his eyes; he looked as if he had been recently raised from the dead. However, what shocked Michael about him wasn't his gaunt appearance, but the fact that he was seeing him as if he still had eyes, colour and all. He knew it was impossible, but he wasn't an echo image that he was used to see.

The shock was enough to allow him to push off the ground, get up onto his feet and back away from the young man. He used his Breathing again and yet he still did not detect him.

'Is he some sort of ghost?' Michael thought as he stared at the man, 'An illusion? A mirage? My mind must be playing tricks on me.'

The young man looked back at him and spoke to him again in a hollow voice, "Excuse me...have you seen Master Yamamoto? I'm trying to find him."

"Yamamoto?" Michael muttered in confusion.

That was when his mind flashed back to a conversation he had with Yamamoto many months again; just after the shadow demon had been killed.

'The last confession, some Slayers say they hear the last confession from human they once were as they die. They tell tales of regrets, misfortunes and dreams they once had before they were turned. If you can listen carefully and open your heart...you can hear them speak.'

'Was this what he was talking about? This is a demon's last confession,' Michael thought in astonishment.

"Please," the man whispered again, "I need to find. Tell him I'm sorry for disobeying him. I should have never gone after that demon all on my own. Please will you help me-" the man stopped suddenly as soon as he got a better look at him. His eyes widened in fear as soon as he saw the bandages around his face and backed away, "It's you! It's you! You're the one who tortured me!" he screamed in terror.

"W-what?" Michael uttered, "I-"

"It's you! It's definitely you! You stabbed me in the eyes fifteen times! You monster!" he screamed as he pointed accusingly at him.

He frowned in confusion before he gasped as soon as he realised who he was, "You were the shadow demon," he uttered as he took a step closer to him, "you're...Hiroshi, right?"

"Don't say my name!" he yelled in fear and rage, "Don't come near me!"

"But I had to," Michael said, "You were going to kill people."

"You tortured me! You're a monster!"

"I'm not a mons-"

"Hello," another voice appeared from behind him, he turned around and saw a middle aged man with greying hair dressed like a rice farmer. His was just as gaunt and sickly-looking as Hiroshi and seemed to be just as confused as he was as well, "Do you know where I am? I think I'm los-" he stopped and gaped in fear as soon as he caught sight of Michael, "You! I know you! You...did something with your sword that made me vomit up blood and then cut off my head!"

Michael flinched at that, "The six armed demon from the Final Selection," he gasped, "He's here as well."

"Why are you here!?" another voice, this time a woman's voice, yelled at him, he turned around and saw a young woman with braded brown hair staring at him in complete horror, "Isn't killing me enough for you. I was so scared and you killed me!"

"W-what's happening!" Michael stammered as more and more ghosts appeared out of the darkness.

Fist there were five, then ten and then twenty men, women even children emerged from nowhere. Some yelled at him for what he did to them, some got on their knees and begged for him to not hurt him anymore, while others cowered in the back and hoped that he didn't see them.

"You're the one who stuck my head on a pike!"

"How dare you do that to me! I was scared! What did I do to you!"

"Please! I'm sorry! Don't cut off my hands again!"

"You monster! Go and die already!"

They surrounded him on all sides; shouting, cursing and pleading so loudly that it began to deafen him. Some of them he recognised, while most of them he didn't, but he knew that he did meet them at one point. From out of the crowd of ghost, he heard a bellow of a animal; he turned around and saw a bear cub looking up at him. His ears were pressed against his head and he was cowering away from him. The cub roared again, but somehow he knew what it was saying.

'Mama! Where's my mama! I'm really cold and scared!'

Michael was at his breaking point, he clutched his hands over his ears and tried to block out the riot around him, "Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" he roared, immediately silencing the ghosts, "Don't you see...this is what a Slayer does! We slay demons...you were all demons! I...I didn't mean to hurt humans...please..." he tried to walk over to them, but they instantly backed away in fear, "No, no! Don't be frightened of me!" he shouted at them, attempting once again to approach them, but once again, they moved away, "I WAS ONLY TRYING TO HELP! DON'T BE SCARED OF ME! PLEASE! I'M SORRY!" he desperately cried.

Silence fell once again. The ghosts merely stared down at him in fear, judging him with the empty cold eyes.

Michael couldn't take it anymore. He ran. Ran down the alleyway as fast as he can and turned a corner.

"HEY!" shouted a man who he almost ran into, "What the hell are you playing at!"

He used his Breathing and was relieved that he could sense him; he was actually there and not a ghost. He turned his head back the way he came and saw that the ghosts had vanished. He sighed in relief and sensed that the main road was just down on the other side of the alleyway before him.

"Were you the one who was yelling?" the man crossly asked, catching his attention, "What the hell? Are you drunk or something?"

"N-no," he stammered, "I-"

He stopped suddenly when he sensed something coming from the main road. A taxi motorcar had just driven slowly by and its passengers startled him so much that he felt his stomach drop. The were three people in the back of the motorcar; a woman and a small girl, but the last passenger was one he recognised. He remembered his sharp face, his piecing eyes, even the way he dressed. There was no mistake, he was the man of his nightmares, the reason why he had become a Slayer, the monster that took his sight away from...it was Muzan Kibutsuji.

Michael was stunned for a few seconds, but then his confusion turned into seering rage. He pushed the man out of the way and sprinted to the end of the alleyway. He burst out into the busy main street, surprising a few people with his abrupt appearance. He used his Breathing and searched the area for the motorcar and growled as he sensed it speeding away down the street. He quickly pursued as fast as he can; pushing and knocking over people out of his way as he did so earning angry cries from them. Michael could not care less about them, nor that he had left his main weapon behind, nor how powerful Muzan was; the demon; that monster who had caused him and many others pain throughout the years was close by and he was not letting him get away. If he killed him now then it will be all over; everything he has trained for will pay off; every sacrifice he had gave will be rewarded; every life he had taken will be for something and the nightmare will finally end.

"MUZAN!" Michael roared as he pushed an elderly man with a cart over as he sprinted down the street, "GET BACK HERE AND FIGHT!"

He was so blind in his rampage that he didn't notice ramming into a police officer onto the ground and knocking the wind out of him as he ran past. His fellow officer who managed to avoid Michael glanced down at his partner on the floor before glaring at Slayer and blowing his whistle.

"STOP THAT MAN!" he bellowed as he chased after him, "IN THE NAME OF THE LAW, STOP THAT MAN!"

Michael sensed the motorcar only a few meters away and reached for his dagger when he suddenly felt somebody slam into him. Caught unawares, Michael stumbled but managed to push the man off of him, but before he could sprint again another man grabbed hold of his neck and attempted to drag him down.

"I've got him!" the civilian yelled, "Somebody help me! He's strong!"

"NO! GET OFF ME!" Michael shouted as he struggled against the civilian's grab as more and more men held him down, "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I NEED TO GET TO HIM!" he sensed the motorcar get away and so, despite the six men trying to stop him, stumbled after him; surprising them and the other civilians by his strength, "GET OFF ME! I HAVE TO GET TO HIM BEFORE IT'S TOO LA-"

SLAM!

Michael gasped in shock as a hard object smacked him at the back of his head right beneath his jingasa. The shock of the attack was enough to knock his concentration and dispel his Breathing, but he still mustered enough strength to struggle against the civilian's grip.

"I...must-"

Another hard blow to the back of his head was enough to knock him down to the ground and he felt the weight of several people weighing down on his back. His mind was spinning and he was feeling nauseous from the hits, but still he dug his fingers into the ground and dragged himself towards the direction of the motorcar.

"Muzan...come back..." he muttered before he grunted in pain as he was once again hit on the back of the head.

He lost conscientiousness for a few seconds, feeling the cold road beneath him, the weight of the civilians anchoring him down and the muffled shouts and gasps of onlookers.

The police officer from earlier shook his head in disappointment as he put away his jitte baton which he used to knock Michael out; sending a glare at Michael underneath the pile of civilians.

"Lousy drunks. That's the second time tonight," he muttered before turning to the civilians, "You keep him there while I get the wagon. A night in the drunk tank should fix him," he ordered before he went back to retrieve his partner.

Motorcar

As the car drove down the bright streets of Tokyo, Muzan glared at the back of the car to see a group of civilians surrounding something in the middle of the street. He thought he heard somebody call out his name, but when he checked, he saw there was nobody there he recognised to be stupid enough to call out to him...well, not again in under twenty minutes. As the ruckus grew smaller in the distance as the car drove away, he had hoped to see who the person the police were arresting when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

"Father," he looked down at a young girl wearing a pink dress sat on her mother's lap; she had black hair tied up in pigtails, fair skin and bright brown eyes that looked up curiously at him. Her pretty mother who had the same coloured hair, but cut short and hidden beneath a cloche hat and wore a white dress and pearl earrings was also looking at him, "What's wrong? Is the weird boy still there?"

Muzan shook his head and gave her a warm smile, "No dear. Don't worry he and the other gentleman are gone."

The mother frowned in concern, "I wonder what happened. People are acting rather strange tonight."

"Not to worry, Rei. I'm sure they will get the help they need. I'll contact the police once we get home," he reassured her before he once again glanced out the back window with a sinister look, 'That boy with the earrings earlier. I need to find him as soon as possible,' he thought darkly.

Police Station

Once Michael had fully woken up from periods of falling in and out of consciousness, the first thing he registered was the splitting headache and the fact that his equipment was gone. His jingasa know longer was perched on his head nor was wearing his coat nor did he feel the blade of his dagger on him. He shakily raised himself off the cold hard ground he was lying on and rubbed his aching head. He took a deep breath and tried using his senses, but found that there was no wind, meaning he was in an isolated room somewhere. He stood to his feet and, with no other choice, began to feel his way around the room; he felt a cold metal door that was locked from the outside, four solid walls all around him and a single wooden bench and nothing else. He groaned and sat on the bench and held his head in his hands, remembering the events that happened before.

'Stupid, stupid,' he berated himself, 'What the hell was I doing? Chasing after Muzan like that and creating a scene. Our Corps needs to remain incognito; I wouldn't be surprised if I was kicked out,' he muttered to himself. His thoughts gravitated to the ghosts he had seen and sadness began to settle in; he lowered his shoulders and gave a depressed sigh, 'I know they were not real...it was just my mind tricking me...but that doesn't make it any less false. I became a Slayer so I can get stronger, to leave my life behind me and be, for once in my life, useful in something that could make a difference,' he clenched his fists tightly, 'But all I have been doing is taking my anger out on demons...I may have got physically stronger, but I am still very weak and pitiful. If that's the case then...what was the point in all the training I went through? Did I just waste all of Yamamoto's time for nothing? What is the point in becoming a Slayer if I'm not making any difference in anything? And if that's the case then...what is the point of me? What am I doing that is useful in the slightest?'

His thoughts were shattered when he heard the clattering of keys and the sound of the cell door opening. A grim looking police officer stood at the door and gave Michael an annoyed grunt.

"Morning you piece of shit. Have you've sobered up now?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer as he grunted again, "Follow me. The captain once a word with you."

Michael sighed before he stood up and stepped towards the open door and allowed the officer to grip his shoulder and lead him down the dimly lit corridor. They went up three flights of stairs, walked through the main foyer where officers and other employees rushed about and then down another corridor before stopping outside an office door where upbeat music was playing from the other side. The officer knocked on the door before he opened it and pushed him into the office before closing it gently behind him. Michael could now feel a gentle breeze seep in from somewhere and used his Sense to have some idea of where he was; the office was quite large and lined with dull metal filing cabinets on either side; at the far side, right in front of the window where the breeze coming in from, was a wide ebony desk cluttered with papers and pencils and a single desk lamp. In the corner there was a wooden stool where a record player was perched upon playing the upbeat music. Sat behind the desk with his feet resting on it was a tall man wearing a brown suit; he looked to be in his late forties with short dark hair, small brown eyes and a pencil moustache above his upper lip. He had crow's feet wrinkles over his eyes and yellow teeth which was probably a product of the Cuban cigar he was smoking. He was simply staring in to space and only acknowledge his presence with a simple wave of his hand.

"Sit down and shut up. We'll talk after Armstrong stops playing," he muttered before he took another drag of his cigar.

He sensed the wooden chair in front of the desk and sat down on it; with no other option, he listened to the record as well. After a few minutes, the music finally ended. The captain took one last drag of his cigar before extinguishing it in an ashtray; he coughed a few times before pulling out a file from his desk and placing on the already cluttered desk. He flicked it open before he finally looked up at him.

"Have you heard of jazz?" he grunted, "It's what I was playing now. It's a new thing all the way from the U.S."

Michael cocked an eyebrow at that, "No. I haven't exactly been keeping up with the newest cultural trends," he turned his head towards the record with an indifferent shrug, "Can't say I like it very much."

"Well, I like it," the captain muttered, "And I really don't appreciate it when I'm listening to it and get interrupted to deal with a Slayer who thinks they can cause an uproar in the middle of the busy high street."

"Slayer?" Michael muttered, "Wait...do you work for-"

"I work for the Taisho government," he snapped, "And only the Taisho government. As far as you and everybody else is aware, I, Captain Tanaka of the Tokyo Police Force, am not associated with any external groups. It would be pretty stupid of me to declare that I was in involved, don't you agree? Especially since it could mean jeopardising my job and probably get me killed."

Michael frowned at that, but nodded in understanding.

"Good," Tanaka grunted as he looked down at the file, "You have been arrested for public intoxication, assaulting civilians and a police officer and disturbing the peace. Since these are all minor offences and the fact that nobody was seriously hurt, we are charging you with a fine and a formal warning," he turned his eyes up to him, "Lucky for you, somebody has paid off your fine, so all I have to do is give you the warning. Don't do it again or I'll throw you in prison with the rest of the scum. You got that?"

"Yes," Michael muttered in surprise, "Wait, who paid off my fine?"

"They wanted to remain anonymous. But, on the form, they put their relation to you as...family member, if that helps."

His eyebrows raised at that, "My father was-"

"I don't know anything about that," Tanaka grunted, "All I got is what is written on this form. You can collect your items from the reception desk. It's illegal to go around with daggers, but since it's highly decorated, I can only assume that it's an antique you picked up from an auction, right? It'll be a shame to be arrested again."

"Yes...yes it would," Michael sighed in disappointment.

"Oh and another thing," Tanaka said as turned around in his chair, picked something up and placed it on his desk. Michael gave a gentle gasp as he recognised that it was his katana and eagerly picked it up, "A young woman wearing a floral kimono last night happened to find this and give it to me. I assume that's an antique as well."

'Tamayo,' he thought, knowing who he was talking about, "She gave it back even after what happened."

"You're free to go," Tanaka muttered as he pulled another cigar out from seemingly out of nowhere, "Now get lost. I've got a lot of work to do."

Michael gently caressed his katana for a few seconds before he turned his head up at the captain, "What's your angle?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you doing this for me? For...my organisation."

Tanaka gave him a bored look before he sighed wearily, "Look, the only thing I want now is to get you out of my office and out of my city. I don't want any more trouble or to be involved in your business. If it helps you get out of here quicker...let's just say that the same person who paid your fine also helped me and my family when we were faced with...a very dangerous criminal. So, I like to think that what I am doing is favours...as thanks for his kindness. Now get out of here."

Michael remained silent for a few more seconds before he stood up and headed to the door. He had placed one hand on the door knob when he stopped.

"One last question."

Tanaka had already snipped the end of his cigar and was about to light it when he grunted in annoyance, "What now?"

He hesitated slightly before he spoke, "You see a lot of criminals every day. Some who cause minor offences while other commit terrible crimes...how can you tell if they are actually bad people or if they turned to crime because they had no choice?"

The captain raised an eyebrow at this, "Hate to tell you this, boy, but that ain't my job. We arrest those who break the law and give out the appropriate punishment. No matter what they have done, a criminal is a criminal."

"I see," Michael murmured in disappointment, "Thanks."

He was about to turn the knob when Tanaka called out to him again.

"Hey, I ain't finished," he snapped before he leaned back in his chair, "I've been an officer of the law for twenty years and...I may have picked up some clues," he said, making Michael turn back to him, "You see, the one major difference between the two is whether they regret their decisions. When their backs against the wall and they have no other choice but be lead to a cell, you simply ask them if they regret the crime they committed. If they don't, then that's fine. They can go to hell for all I care. If they do...then maybe you'll ask them if they want redemption for their acts. If they do...well, that really depends on the situation. What ever you do now is decided by you and only you. You're the one who decided your own path and once you find who you want to be...then maybe you'll have some piece of mind."

Michael listened to his words carefully before he gave a firm nod, "I...think understand."

"Good," Tanaka said as he lit up his cigar, "Now get the fuck out of my office."

The Slayer couldn't help but chuckle lightly at that before he opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind him. He stood there in the middle of the corridor for a few moments as he wondered his next move. After coming up with a plan and how he was going to follow through with it, he sighed, smiled gently and headed to the reception to pick up the rest of his gear.

Tamayo's Medical Practise

From within the basement of the clinic, Tamayo and Yushiro were hiding away from the sun's dangerous rays. While the male demon was sleeping on his bed, Tamayo was kneeling before her equipment; with a pipette filled with Michael's blood in her right hand and a petri dish in the other, she allowed a few drops of the blood to fall on the dish before placing the pipette in its holder. She frowned sadly at the little sample of blood she received, but she convinced herself that it was more the enough; it wasn't as if she could ask for more of it. Suddenly, she heard the fluttering of feathered wings and looked up in time to see a crow land before her; she raised a single eyebrow at it before she saw that it was carrying a box wrapped up in a bow. She took the box, opened it and pulled out a glass jar filled with blood; it still felt warm as if it was drawn fleshly from the body.

"Message from Michael-CAW!-" the crow squawked, "He says- CAW!- 'Thank you for the sword,' and 'That's all you getting' -CAW!'

Tamayo blinked in surprise before a gentle smile appeared on her face, "I see...tell him I said thank you."

The crow nodded before he spready his wings and flew off into the darkness. Tamayo watched the crow leave before she looked down at the jar of blood in her hands.

"Perhaps...there is still hope after all."

Outside Tokyo

Michael rode on Kaze's back down a dusty road between two rice fields, leaving the capital city far behind him. He stroked the horse's mane comfortingly before tightening the bandages wrapped around his arm where he had extracted the blood. This was not a way of apologising; he still held onto his convictions strongly, but it was a sign to say that he was going to be a little sympathetic to demons and their curse. After all, he didn't want to see ghosts again and go insane; next time he was sure he would be in prison for much longer. Tamayo can do whatever she likes with his blood; if it means for the best then who was he to stop her.

The road before him was long and winding and he will be many miles until he reached his next destination, wherever it may be.

'We have a long journey ahead,' he thought as he petted Kaze's mane once more, 'I wonder if I'll be able to figure out what sort of a Slayer I should be before I reach it,' he wondered wistfully as the cold breeze flowed over him calmly.

And that's it! Thanks for reading.

I planned to update last week, but I was on holiday and didn't have access to my computer. Hope you don't mind. I'm planning to write one more chapter before moving onto the Mount Natagumo arc which will lead to Michael meeting the other Hashira at the Corps HQ.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you next time.