Feet tripping over each other, haphazardly apologizing to the people he pushed through, trombone case hitting against his back, and breathing completely out of order…..
Tanjiro awkwardly skidded, not able to catch his balance from the high speed, and collapsed into a messy heap behind a short line of three people.
"I... made... it... before... them..." He breathed out, limbs slightly shaking from the exertion.
"Coooming throoough!"
Without lifting his head, Tanjiro mechanically stepped to the side.
Using his fingers and soles of feet as brakes, Inosuke skillfully stopped behind him. An evil grin stretched from eye to eye.
"Almost missed it, Ponchiro."
Tanjiro smiled through weariness and stood up.
"Yeah."
"Jesus Christ, why do you have to shout like that?" Zenitsu walked over to them. He was sporting a thoroughly displeased expression.
"I heard you from the other end of the platform."
"Kheh! As if these folks care," Inosuke retorted.
"Excuse me," a man, huddled in a large overcoat, muttered. The demon slayers easily moved apart, and the man scurried through the gap. Insouke straightened out and did a quick movement with his hand. The boar head bonked down on his face.
"Ain't matter. What are they serving?"
Tanjiro glanced over his shoulder. The cook was pouring some moldy oatmeal into the paper bowls, but for demon slayers like them, it was delicious.
"Good stuff," Tanjiro finally decided. Inosuke impatiently stepped from foot to foot, aching for the line to move forward.
"Damn, why are they taking so long?" He voiced his frustration. The people in the food line ignored them, too used to their daily commotion. Deep inside, Tanjiro was terribly ashamed, but after he almost got beaten up by the line for apologizing too much, he simply let things be.
The line shifted forward by one person. A family of cyborgs, incessantly discussing morning politics, got in line after the demon slayers.
"Yo!" A clear voice rang out.
Zenitsu looked to his side and smiled. Tanjiro also turned away from the food line and widely grinned.
"Hello, Rubikku!"
A lanky, average-height robot walked over to them. Several layers of kimono trailed after his feet. Thin, wired-laced fingers gripped the string of the basket, full of fresh fish. Red eyes amiably winked at Tanjiro, and a completely human voice echoed from the metal throat.
"I've got lackrels... and I'm discount-negotiable."
Even though the smell of fish was irresistible, Tanjiro sighed and shook his head.
"Do you see where we're at?" He longingly gestured at the food line. "We spent all our wages again."
"You mean, your salary covered three days' worth of subway tickets. That's the demon slayer corps' wage for you," Rubikku clarified, red eyes trailing to the other two demon slayers.
Zenitsu scrunched up his nose. "You didn't have to phrase it like that," he pointed out.
The robot laughed and swung his long arm over the demon slayer's shoulder.
"You bet, you bet."
Rubikku rotated his head one eighty degrees, and his red eyes blinked at Tanjiro.
"Once you get your breakfast, come to my stall, okay? Maybe some fish will accidentally swim into your oatmeal."
Tanjiro nodded and, smiling, waved. There was a short huff from the metal body, as if Rubikku smiled, and in the next moment, the robot was already disappearing in the crowd. Inosuke smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"That piece of metal scrap."
"He's smarter than you," Zenitsu absently noticed.
A heavy fist rapidly dropped down on his head. Zenitsu's eyes widened, body flinching in too late of a response. The fist stopped a millimeter from his hair, locks brushing the knuckles.
"I know that, stupid!"
Tanjiro grinned and turned around, facing the line.
Mitsuri tore off the metal covering, careful not to cut her fingers, and sniffed the can beans in satisfaction.
"Ahh, these smell so nice..." She eagerly dug the foldable spoon into her can and shoved a large heap of beans into her mouth. They were hot and, despite the preservatives, incredibly delicious. Mitsuri, noticing that Giyuu is rather unemotionally poking his own can, gestured forcibly with her spoon.
"You should eat too! They're really good, I promise!" She muffled through a full mouth. Not arguing, Giyuu took a spoonful, and since his face didn't change, Mitsuri contently figured that he had nothing against it.
The location they chose for respite was next to a wall, where the ground was relatively dry. The squat energy generator radiated dim blue light and heat. The dark-vision glasses transmitted it as a white halo.
Giyuu absently slid the glasses on his forehead. His eyes watered, but refocused almost instantly. Blinking away the tears, Giyuu looked at his partner, outlines illuminated by the blue shining.
Mitsuri, still in glasses, tilted her head, responding to his thoughtful gaze.
"What is it, Tomioka-san?"
Giyuu lowered the can of beans on his knee and prepared to talk.
"We need to develop a strategy."
The young woman across from him blinked, but concentration spread across her face almost instantly.
"Mmm. Since I'll be fighting the demon," she briefly hesitated, but quickly finished her sentence. "I was thinking you could be on the defensive."
"Naturally." Inside, Giyuu was somewhat unsure why Mitsuri seemed so embarrassed about taking the offensive. As far as he remembered, she loved challenging Kyojuro and Sanemi.
"I wanted to ask if you'll be able to steer my techniques."
Behind the glasses, her eyes widened as she considered the offer. Lost in thought, Mitsuri swirled her beans with the spoon.
"I could probably use the wheel or the whirlpool," she finally admitted. "They'll give me extra momentum against the demon."
Giyuu nodded, then lifted the spoon to his mouth.
"Ignore any random demons. I'll deal with them myself."
Mitsuri didn't say anything and lowered her gaze on her can. The beans steamed inside, lazily bobbing in the mashed syrup. She hated the prospect of leaving the small fries to Giyuu, even though she knew he was being logical. Snuggling on her backpack, Mitsuri pouted and curled her legs closer to herself. Sometimes, logic irritated her.
Her eyes trailed to the gold ring glimmering on Giyuu's left hand. She silently took another spoonful, swallowing the uncomfortable feeling.
A small, red light flickered on their watches, and before Mitsuri realized anything, large, pixelated numbers flashed in front of her eyes.
Demon Location, Sector NW-32. Demon Location, Sector NW-32.
The syrup slowly poured out of the cans, rolling on the ground. The backpacks limply lay next to them, abandoned.
Mitsuri swiftly ran across the platform, leaping over the pipes and broken beams. Giyuu ran next to her, thumb nudging the katana's hilt. Mitsuri's eyes darted to the top right corner of her vision, indicating their position. The numbers dropped with unspeakable speed, NW-45, NW-43, NW-36...
At these moments, her heart always stopped beating, even though this was the time when it was pumping the most, energized by oxygen and spreading the blood across her veins. Nevertheless, Mitsuri never heard it, unlike everything else - the splashing of sewage water underneath, the light tap of their footsteps against the floor, the hum of the ventilators, and the hissing breath of the man running next to her.
NW-32.
Mitsur braked to a rough stop, and Giyuu slipped behind her almost immediately. They were standing back to back, swords exposed.
For an instant, it was completely quiet.
Mitsuri's eyes raced across the sewers, trying to find the demon. They darted from pipe to pipe, processing every unnatural movement. Behind her, Mitsuri felt how Giyuu's shoulders tensed, also not noticing anything.
The young woman gritted her teeth, feeling how frustration crawls up her socks. Her partner slightly leaned his head back.
"Don't get irritated," he whispered, voice strained.
"I know," Mitsuri threw back in a hushed tone. She glanced upwards, but the ceiling was empty.
Another minute passed.
Threat Clear. Threat Clear.
Rats. Mitsuri uneasily lowered her sword, unable to shake off the tension from her arms. Despite their reliability, she could never trust the network, especially when the target was so unspeakably close, and she doubted other hashiras did.
Still looking around, Giyuu lowered his sword as well.
They missed it.
The silver-scaled fish jounced around the cork, translucent fins swatting against the water. Head reclining on his arms, Tanjiro absently pulled the string, and the fish excitedly swam after the cork, gazing at the market.
Tanjiro sighed and turned his head to the right. Underneath the platform with the aquarium, squatting on his knees, Rubikku was actively selling his produce. Several baskets were laid out in front of him, as well as small bowls with freshwater fish circling inside.
A man with synthetic skin passed Rubikku some coins. Taking the wrapped fish, he accidentally noticed the young demon slayer several feet above him. For a moment, the man stared at him, then gave a gruff wave. Tanjiro lifted his head up and slightly waved back. Without another word, the man placed the fish inside his bag and walked away, mixing with the crowd. Tanjiro silently lowered his head back down, cheek pressing against the plastic frame.
Unlike the Higher Level, almost everyone here was able to tell demon slayers apart, even as they tried hiding their swords and wore casual clothes. This was the Border Rim Level - the cutoff between the Middle and Lower Levels. However, everyone knew it as the "Wisteria District." The purple-laced trees spiraled from the slits in the platforms, the clusters of flowers crunching underneath the crowd, and yet - there was the incessant feeling of fear. It hasn't turned into resigned darkness like in the Lower Levels, but it was enough to create its own taste in the air.
Tanjiro's gaze slowly dropped to the robot, the joyful voice resonating through the metal cords. Rubikku was human, cardiovascular system too poisoned to function. Body pierced with tubes and medicine, he slept in a coma inside a basement leftover from his grandparents. His brain was working, but that was all. Tanjiro never saw the boy in person.
Rubikku sighed and propped his head on his fist, red eyes melancholically pacing over the crowd.
"They'll establish artificial trees next week," he apathetically commented, poking the fish with a stick. Legs locked around the platform's edge, Inosuke swung upside down towards the robot.
"Are they, what, not blooming?"
"Wisterias bloom only once a year, dummy," Zenitsu tiredly noted. He was lying on his stomach and blankly staring at one of the bowls. "Though I thought these ones were chemically enhanced."
"They are." Rubikku reclined against the platform and folded his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes.
"Some of them are old. Others are cut down by poachers. In any case, there has been an increased amount of breaches and incidents this past month." There wasn't any sadness in the robot's voice.
The string lay limp next to Tanjiro's fingers, and the fish swirled around the fork in disappointment. Tanjiro was quiet, watching the people scurry past each other, the wisteria petals falling on their shoulders.
Zenitsu's watch suddenly rattled, and the demon slayer jumped in surprise, nearly knocking over several bowls.
"Watch it, or you'll toss over the fish!" Inosuke barked in warning. Rubikku silently held the rim of one of them, calming down the water.
"I'm so, so so sorry..." Zenitsu stumbled, gripping his wrist with the shrieking watch. He quickly tapped in some numbers, activating the screen.
A hologram of a young boy with chestnut-colored hair, a beak-like apparatus around his mouth, and a very sour face glared back at Zenitsu.
"Seriously, what takes so long to answer?"
"I'm so sorry, Chuntaro!" Zenitsu passed a hand through his hair. Calming down, he frowned and brought his face until it nearly touched the hologram.
"But please don't scare me like that again!" He enunciated. Slight irritation lingered in his voice. "For real, I can't take your damn peek-a-boo calls anymore!"
"Gross," Chuntaro recoiled in disgust. He shuddered. "Whatever, scaredy cat. I have a new mission."
"Again?!"
"What do you mean again?!" Chuntaro flared up. He leaned in his chair, and his face became larger. Zenitsu winced and stretched his arm forward, trying to get the infuriated expression as far away as possible.
"How many times do I have to persuade you to get you moving? Are you what, ten?"
"That's demeaning."
Chuntaro rolled his eyes. "Will you ever stop complaining?!"
"Well then give me a break," Zenitsu instantly brought the watch back to his face. "You're driving me to death with your schedule."
Rubikku quietly smirked, wrapping the fish. "It seems we've hit the point of contention," he softly commented.
"Chuntaro-san," Tanjiro carefully intervened, lifting up from the aquarium. Giving Zenitsu a displeased look, Chuntaro glanced over at the other demon slayer.
"Yes, Tanjiro-kun?"
"You mentioned a mission."
"Yes, I did." Chuntaro slightly shifted his shoulders. It seemed he was glad for the change of topic. However, his lips almost instantly dropped into a frown.
"There has been a demon sighted in the Otinohe District."
"Otinohe?"Rubikku's tone was doubtful. "Isn't that the Upper Level?"
"Aight, time to check maps!" Inosuke sprung off the railing and, landing next to Rubikku, leaned on the robot's shoulder. "Rubu, pull it up!"
The robot pressed the chip embedded on his wrist, and a pornographic magazine panel glimmered into the air.
"My bad," Rubikku unashamedly said and flipped the screen over to the general site. He quickly scrolled through the network, and a web of streets and airways appeared under his fingers. Inosuke peered over his shoulder.
"Huh," he finally made out. "There're no warning signs."
Tanjiro sat upright, swinging the legs from the railing, and pulled up his own hologram.
"The news don't cover it either," he said after a brief moment of scrolling. Zenitsu eyed them, before transferring them to the boy.
"What's with the lacklusterness, Chuntaro? Usually you put up so many warnings that everyone trips over them."
"You're so annoying," Chuntaro mumbled under his breath, rubbing his forehead.
"I was asked not to spread the information."
"Asked? By whom?... sorry," Zenitsu added, noticing Chuntaro's face. "You we're getting to it."
"Yes, right." Chuntaro scratched the tip of his nose, collecting his thoughts. "The security guards caught traces of a demon at the YSEPC headquarters."
Zenitsu started in surprise.
"Oi, Chuntaro, are you sure?" He positioned his wrist so that the honorary crow was at eye level. "A demon at the top electric company in the country?"
"Those losers. They always overbill me." Inosuke leaned over and swiped Rubikku's magazine, panels scrolling across the screen. Tanjiro lowered his watch and gave the communications boy a concerned look.
"The highest recorded breach was in the Onda District, Middle Level, around five thousand kilometers above this place. The detectors are practically embedded in the city, and it's impossible for any demon to get that high."
Even with his demon slayer privilege, he couldn't take Nezuko beyond the highest floor of the Lower Level.
"Well, apparently this is the new record," Rubikku absently commented, shutting off the magazine. Inosuke lightly punched him in the shoulder, indicating his disappointment, but the robot didn't notice.
"And?"
"The demon matches this region's blood type." Half closing his eyes, Chuntaro massaged the bridge of his nose. "We would've preferred to send a hashira, but unfortunately, both are on missions."
"And guess who's going?" Zenitsu mumbled. Chuntaro cleared his throat and straightened out in his chair.
"Consider it an honor, Zenitsu. You'll be introduced as tour guests invited to see the building to avoid any suspicion. So dress formally."
"Yes, yes." Zenitsu didn't sound too convinced. Eyeing his dejected face, Tanjiro switched off his watch and jumped down from the platform.
"We'll get right to it. How much time do we have?"
"The tour starts ten minutes before three." The hologram shrugged. "Get to it however you see fit."
"Nezuko?" Rubikku guessed, moving the bowls away from the crowd.
"Mmmm." Tanjiro helped him rearrange the bowls. "I want to tell her personally that I'm leaving. I need to change as well."
"Always so eager..." Zenitsu gave a huge sigh, before standing up as well. "Alright, Chuntaro, I'll be hanging up now."
"Don't mess up."
"Honestly, what was that for?" but the boy already hung up. Dropping his arm, Zenitsu craned back his neck and stared desperately at the city stretching into the sky.
"He's relentless."
Tanjiro ignored the complaint and fixed the trombone case over his shoulders.
"Zenitsu, Inosuke! Meeting up at the station, okay?"
"Bet I'll get there quicker than you do" Insouke tossed on his way, walking away into the crowd. For a moment, he stopped and slightly turned towards them.
"You owe me the next edition, roby."
The robot curtly saluted with two, long fingers. "Request processed."
A slight grin flashed under the boar head, and the demon slayer disappeared in the current of people.
Rubikku stretched his arms in satisfaction and lowered his index finger into the bowl. The fish swirled around it in interest, slightly batting it with the tail.
"He has a point, though. This volume is good."
Zenitsu sighed and swung his own trombone case by the strap.
"I guess I have no choice." He gave a glum wave to the robot. "I hope to see you again."
"Gotcha."
Zenitsu trudged into the crowd. For a few moments, his yellow jacket stood out among the people. Tanjiro followed him with eyes, before turning to the robot and sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.
"Sorry we ate your fish without paying."
"I brought it upon myself." Rubikku took out his finger and wiped it with the sleeve of his kimono. "But it's not like you guys robbed me of anything, you know I can't sell it all anyway."
He lifted his head up, and his red eyes amiably narrowed, mimicking the skin folds forming around the lids during a smile.
"Best of luck. My regards to Nezuko."
"Ah, sure!"
Tanjiro raised his hand in a goodbye gesture to the robot and, turning around, blended in with the crowd.
It was early, and the market was only waking up. The sellers were dragging out their tables, mechanically laying out their goods. A robot with eight arms curtly spread out ceramic dishware, lowering each piece on the table with a short clink. A man and woman, both with air tubes in their noses, indicating weak lungs, were carrying out crates of dry fruit. A hologram was directing two workers how to set up the tent.
Laughing and giggling, two stray kids circled around Tanjiro, bouncing a ball back and forth. For a while, the young demon slayer played around with them, before they, stumbling over their thanks from immense laughter, ran away.
Smile fading, Tanjiro walked up to the elevator, situated in the middle of the platform. A hologram blinked in front of him, bodiless and deformed.
"Authorification."
Tanjiro silently held up his residence card. The hologram disappeared, and the doors of the elevator slid open. The demon slayer stepped in, and the doors clicked shut.
It was quiet in the elevator. The rust was peeling off, paper advertisements and bulletins shivering on the walls.
"This elevator only travels downwards. Which floor are you heading to?" The bodiless voice inquired.
In a memorized motion, Tanjiro pressed one of the buttons.
"Third District, Lower Level."
The elevator rumbled and swiftly dropped downwards. Tanjiro patiently waited.
"Third District, Lower Level. Please be safe."
Tanjiro practically ran out when the doors swooshed open. His eyes, like usual, refocused from the lack of light, and he glanced upwards: the purple aura from the wisterias shimmered in the sky. Gripping tightly to the strap of his case, Tanjiro skipped across the platform he knew practically by heart.
The Third District was residential, small compartments huddling inside the walls. Several doorsteps were lucky enough to have a pot of wisteria next to them. Others were tightly sealed, metal screens on top of windows. The alleyways were empty.
Tanjiro swiveled around the corner. The alley was tight, pipes puffing out steam. The neighbors' clothes were softly swaying on the electric lines. Tanjiro stopped next to one of the metal doors and quickly typed in the code into the door lock.
The lock snapped, and the demon slayer quietly slipped in.
"Nezuko? I'm home!"
Tanjiro gently shut the door. It automatically locked behind him.
The apartment smelled of rich coffee and perfume. Tanjiro breathed it in in satisfaction and, slipping out of his shoes and lowering the case next to the shelves rack, made his way to the kitchen.
Nezuko, hair tied up in a bun, was energetically filling up plants with water from the sink. She was wearing a pink, comfortable T-shirt and plush shorts.
"Nezuko?" Tanjiro tried again, taking a step towards his sister. Nezuko threw him an impatient glance and swatted her hand, letting him know that he was being a nuisance.
"Fine, fine," Tanjiro laughed, grabbing a stray towel from the counter. "I'm heading off for a mission, okay?" He tossed over his shoulder, leaving the room. Nezuko nodded, not really listening to him, and enthusiastically slid another pot into the sink.
In the bedroom, the young man quickly changed into a clean shirt and haphazardly brushed down his hair. He walked back out into the living room, on the way glancing into the kitchen.
"I'm off!"
This time, Nezuko paid some attention. She followed her brother to the entrance, grabbing the case before him.
"Thanks." Tanjiro took the case and smiled, looking into her eyes. "Don't get into trouble."
Nezuko snorted, eyes wrinkling at the sides. With a final nod, Tanjiro opened the door and stepped outside.
A/N: Hello folks! I was really busy the last two days, but here's the chapter!
I tried to make all the characters slightly more mature than in the anime/manga without losing their personalities because everyone is older in this story. Tanjiro and Inosuke are twenty, Zenitsu is twenty-one, and Nezuko is nineteen. The hashiras range from twenty-four to thirty-five (Muichiro is the outlier. The little dude is nineteen).
Also, since this is really important and I don't really elaborate on it in the story, I'll repeat the note from the last chapter: the demons are sorted by blood types (that's just my spin on the story because it kind of works for plot). It doesn't really matter for daily carnage, but if a demon slayer is posed against a Moon (or any exceptionally strong demon, really), types begin to matter because they're basically your chance-of-survival probabilities.
As always, thanks for reading, and let me know what you think in the comments. Happy Halloween, everyone!