The cool, morning air rolled through the open window, the old curtain completely motionless. The dull, neon-blue digital numbers shivered on the alarm clock. They were the only source of light in the room.
Three hundred and fifty-five, three hundred and fifty-six, three hundred and fifty-seven...
Pressing his tongue against his teeth, Giyuu bent his arm, lowering down. His mind was completely blank, the darkness of the room and the early hour pushing out any thoughts. His nose brushed the floor, and the air slid through the clenched teeth with a low, carefully measured hiss. Slowly, Giyuu straightened his arm back up.
Three hundred and fifty-eight.
Taking in another breath, Giyuu lowered down again. The soles of his feet were steadily slipping from the sweat, and he tightly held his core to keep the balance. Giyuu stared at the floor. There was only one more left... which tended to be the quickest.
Three hundred and sixty.
Giyuu quietly dropped his left knee on the floor and deeply exhaled. Turning around, he sat down and reached for the glass of milk on the desk next to him. He drank half of it in the first gulp.
The monitors softly buzzed in their sleep. Wiping the milk off his lips, Giyuu eyed the rectangular, black pad on the top of the desk. Even though he couldn't see it, Giyuu knew that the small, translucent slip of paper gave off a faint glimmer, indicating that it's charging.
Not wanting to wake his friend, Giyuu stood up and noiselessly placed the glass on the table. Edging in the narrow space between the desk and the bed, the hashira made his way to the bathroom at the end of the room. On his way, he took the case with the metal prosthetic arm off the metal shelves rack.
Five minutes later, Giyuu was fully showered and dressed. Slipping the strap of the tennis bag over his shoulder, the young man quietly stepped outside the apartment and closed the door. The automatic lock system smoothly clicked, indicating full security.
The moment he took the next step, gas exhales burst through the slits in the asphalt, swallowing the hashira. Coughing into his fist, Giyuu walked forward, eyes searching the alleyway for the familiar figure. After a few seconds, he found it: the cubic news robot was further down the alley. It was sitting on top of the railing separating airway traffic from the living quarters. The only non-metal component of its body was a conical straw hat tilting slightly to the side.
Waving away the residue steam, Giyuu quickly walked towards the robot. Sensing his footsteps, a spherical eye rolled over from the top plane of the cube to the side. It curiously blinked, and the robot dangled its legs in excitement.
"Good morning, sir!" It greeted with an optimistic ring. "All the lanes are clear of traffic. The weather forecast for today is overcast, with a sixty percent change of precipitation. For more specific news, please..."
Coughing out the remainder of the smoke, Giyuu stretched out his card. The robot blinked and absently scanned the PIN. There was a short beep, and a hologram bursting with colors and images dropped before Giyuu's face. The robot self-consciously hemmed, as if clearing its voice.
"The Senate is debating a new bill regarding the tax on virtual reality usage. The Twenty-Fifth party is vociferously opposing..."
Not listening, Giyuu scrolled down to the end of the feed. The robot fumbled: it was switching gears between content, but it almost seemed like hesitation.
"The death rate resulting from demon attacks for June 17th, 2503 is around one hundred and three individuals. The peak was between two hours and forty-nine minutes and six hours and twelve minutes, with ten percent occurring between the aforementioned time slot."
Surprise appeared on Giyuu's face, but not an unpleasant one. The expression was gone the next moment as he turned away, fixing the tennis bag on his shoulder.
"That'll be all." The hologram blinked and vanished. The red eye swept back on the plane hidden from the view. Walking away, Giyuu heard a happy shrill: the robot looped over the railing, the hat falling into the void.
The flight ended with a narrow, wide-stepped staircase winding to the lower level. Giyuu, carefully watching his step, quickly ran down.
The lower level was, like always, poorly lit, the sunlight filtered out through the gaps in the floor above. The electricity lightly zapped, blue sparks shivering on the wires damp from the puddles. There were more people, irregularly moving around the platform and hastily eyeing one another. Giyuu indifferently passed by them, firmly heading towards his destination.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boarding is in process. Please remain behind the yellow line. Ladies and gentlemen, boarding is in process. Please—"
The hashira stepped over the faint, crumbled yellow line. The doors softly swooshed in front of him. The cabin was empty, and Giyuu sat right next to the entrance.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boarding is in process. Please remain behind the yellow line. Ladies—"
People continued hurrying outside, but no one entered. After a few moments, the doors slid together and quietly clicked together. A silence, like in an aquarium tank, unraveled inside the cabin. The train delicately rocked and moved forward.
Sighing, Giyuu stood up and, hands in pockets, walked up to the large windows.
The city, colorful and sleeping, raced behind the glass. The flashing images helped the man wake up, connecting his senses with the outside world. He was still young, but the nearly ten-year job had its effects. Besides, the reflexes of a twenty-seven year old were slower than of a twenty-year old: a millisecond difference. Well, it's not like he was supposed to enjoy his job. It was duty, not a hobby.
Giyuu automatically reached into his inside pocket and took out a compact, black earphone. The watch on his wrist blinked, and he quickly typed up the memorized number. The static trembled inside his year, before cutting into a high and energetic voice.
"Yes yes?"
Giyuu had no idea how she managed to combine shyness with outgoing cheerfulness.
"Kanroji-san? This is Tomioka."
"Ah, Tomioka-san! I'm already at the location. Will you be arriving soon?"
Giyuu slightly started; he didn't expect Mitsuri to be there so quickly. Fumbling, he glanced at his watch, then at the digital map on the cabin's wall.
"Give me ten more minutes."
"Alright," the voice on the other end easily agreed. Giyuu passed his hand through his hair, uncomfortable that she had to wait for him - even though he tried to stand up as early as possible.
"Do you have the equipment with you?"
"Y-yes. The typical one, right?" The cheerfulness was instantly replaced with worry. "Sleeping bags, lightoscope, blue-fire…."
"Yes, that's right," Giyuu quickly replied, regretting that he asked. He didn't want Mitsuri to get anxious over nothing, especially that he also brought equipment "I'll be there soon."
"Okay. See you!"
Giyuu hung up and, sighing, tucked his hands into pockets. The light rail smoothly turned on the bridge across the buildings. Giyuu felt the soft, familiar nervosity tightening inside his stomach and that, despite everything, reassured him: he wasn't going numb. The young man closed his eyes and forcibly relaxed. Slowly, the emotion spread over his body and steadily churned into strength.
Mitsuri doubtfully tapped her speaker, staring down at the large backpack at her feet. Did she take everything? She was pretty sure she did until Giyuu asked. Mitsuri gave a deep, hopeless sigh and rubbed her forehead. Well, even if she did forget anything, there was no point lamenting it now.
Swinging her stretched-out hatbox with the katana from side to side, Mitsuri curiously glanced around. Decades ago, this place must have been a plaza. It was open and circular, graffiti splattered over the walls. It was very dark, even with the dimly glimmering steer lights. And the air stenched of demons.
There was a weak gust of wind, and a crumpled flyer nestled up to Mitsuri's boot. The young woman tilted her head, reading it in curiosity.
"Kanroji-san?"
"Tomioka-san!" Feeling embarrassed and flushed for being caught off guard, Mitsuri quickly straightened out. She moved her shoulders, trying to keep her voice even.
"You frightened me."
"I'm sorry."
Giyuu was now standing next to her, and Mitsuri held her breath. Inwardly, though, she scolded herself. Years of knowing one another and still blushing like crazy...
"Is this your first time here?" Giyuu continued, seemingly not noticing his partner's distress. He lowered on one knee and carefully nudged the sewage lid.
"Mmmm," Mitsuri shook her head, looking around once more. The morning curled around her. "I've been at this Lower Level with Shinzugawa-san." She gave a small giggle, remembering the details.
"We killed the demon, but it was a disaster."
Giyuu smirked and grasped the rim of the lid. Flexing his arms, he hesitantly lifted it up. The young woman stared at him, at his slick tie, the metal hand, and the unbelievably cool, unemotional eyes...
Mitsuri absently lifted up her hand and slapped herself. Giyuu jolted in surprise and dropped the lid. It wincingly clung against the asphalt.
"I'm so, so sorry!" Mitsuri gasped, covering her mouth and quickly stepping forward. "I didn't mean to startle you, I just..."
"It's alright." Giyuu unnoticeably shook his head, trying to get the ringing out of his ears. Face completely red, Mitsuri hurriedly crouched down and pushed the lid to the side. The poster loudly crumpled underneath.
The wind rolled across the plaza, echoing in the manhole. Giyuu wordlessly began climbing down the ladder. Mitsuri quieted, watching him and the last bits of cheerfulness slowly disappearing. She silently handed him one backpack after another, before descending herself. On her way, she carefully slid the lid back over the entrance.
The damp, heavy odor of the sewage lowered on the hashiras. Feeling the ground with her feet, Mitsuri cautiously stepped down. The concrete was slippery, and Mitsuri hesitantly moved her feet somewhat apart to hold balance. Judging by the quiet rattle, Giyuu was fumbling with the backpacks. Mitsuri blinked into the darkness, then raised her fingers to the speaker.
"Thirteen seven, right?" She clarified.
"Yes."
With her free hand, Mitsuri quickly typed the numbers into her watch and shared the connection with Giyuu. The static cracked, and a familiar, dry voice resonated in the young woman's ear.
"Hello, Mitsuri-san."
"Hello, Kanzaburo-san," Mitsuri merrily greeted him. Giyuu remained silent, repacking the provisions between backpacks. The old man didn't greet him either.
"I presume you've entered the sewers, dear?" He politely inquired Mitsuri.
"Yes, Kanzaburo-san."
"Sector N-24," Giyuu quietly noticed, handing Mitsuri over the dark-vision glasses. Mitsuri hurriedly took them and slipped them on her face. Her eyes defocused, the darkness diluted with red and the details coming through. Mitsuri blinked several times, adjusting her vision, and looked around. They were standing on a platform, murky water swaying underneath.
"I see," the voice in the speaker inaudibly said. "Neat choice, Giyuu." He cleared his throat. "Mitsuri-san?"
"Yes?" Mitsuri sprang in attention. At the same time, she took out her sword from the hatbox and hung it on her hip.
"I know you're aware of what the mission is, but I'll retell it to you again, given that it's an internal problem."
"Sure, Kanzaburo-san." Mitsuri slipped her arms through the strap of the backpack that Giyuu was holding out for her. "Repetition never hurts."
Giyuu wordlessly gestured with his hand towards the south, and Mitsuri nodded. There was the clicking of the keyboard in the speaker.
"Perfect. I told you how we classify this sewage right?"
Their footsteps echoed against the hollow concrete, the splashing water creating a quiet accompaniment.
"Training ground?"
"That's right." Coordinates flashed on Mitsuri's vision; Kazaburo was setting up their controls.
"In other words, this is the domain of the lower rank slayers." The man smirked. "Feeling nostalgic, Giyuu?"
"Not in the least," that one unemotionally answered. So cool, Mitsuri sighed in her head, feeling hopeless. She was so distracted in her thoughts that she almost missed what Kanzaburo said next.
"The sewage is pretty much low-life, and our demon slayers have the advantage. This entire past week, the number of demons has been going down."
The platform ended with a staircase, leading up to the banks of the river. Mitsuri quickly hopped down the steps after Giyuu.
"By your tone, it seems that you're not telling something, Kanzaburo-san."
Maybe it was her hearing, but she thought that the man in front of her sighed. There was a silence in the speaker.
"Our numbers have been going down as well, unproportionally quickly, just like the demons."
Mitsuri shivered, hand involuntarily falling on the hilt of her blade. Nausea, partly caused by the odor, partly by the statistics, churned in her stomach.
"There has been a heightened activity by one blood type - AB." There was a pause. "Not to throw shade on you, Mitsuri-san."
"It's alright," Mitsuri shook her head with a brief smile. Her eyes traveled to Giyuu. The deaths must be hard, she sadly thought, and her fingers tightened on the hilt. The demon was clearly strong, and it is one thing when the monster's blood type matches your own: you can avenge. But if there was any suspicion that the demon is a Moon - the rule was unbreakable. No hashira was allowed to fight a Moon of a different blood type. The risk was too high.
A mismatched Moon killing subordinates on one's territory... that was another level of ridicule.
"The last activity of AB-4527 was seen in between Sector S-11 and S-10. I hope we can cap it in twenty-four hours, but you have provisions if you don't."
"Understood." Mitsuri squinted at the coordinates. They were steadily going south.
"I'll check up every three hours. If we track the demon's location, the coordinate system will update accordingly." Kanzaburo seemed to think something over on his end. "Well, you know this stuff. Best of luck."
"Understood." Mitsuri clearly enunciated, pressing the speaker to her ear.
"Understood," Giyuu followed, for a moment looking away from the river and touching the speaker. The static beeped, before cutting off. Mitsuri waited for a moment, before meekly taking out the speaker and dropping it into her inside pocket. Folding her hands behind her back, she looked at Giyuu and gave a wide, sincere smile.
"Off we go now, Tomioka-san."
A/N: Hi folks, I'm back with chapter 2!
I realized that I have to add several clarifications, otherwise the story may be too confusing:
One. I took several aspects from the manga. (slight spoilers) For instance, Giyuu has a metal arm because he lost it; Uzui is also missing an arm and an eye. However, that doesn't have any relation to the manga plot.
Two. The demon-hunting is slightly different in my story. Demons are sorted into 4 blood types - A, B, AB, O - and, generally, allocate in certain regions. the demon slayers with the matching blood type are assigned to that region (I'll tell the groups later in the story, feel free to guess them in the comments :)) The matching blood type matters only when the slayers are fighting the Moons or any exceptionally strong demons because their chance of defeating the latter is stronger. (They have "blood chemistry" or whatever ;) )
Ok, that's it! Other details will be revealed over the course of the story! Thank you so much for the feedback and stay tuned, Tanjiro & Co. are making an appearance next chap!