The door, broken open by Mitsuri, led into a plain square room cut into three long isles by two perpendicular rows of columns. The space may have once been a shrine. At the far end of the room, there was what looked like a place for an idol. There was no idle, however; only Shinraku, who sat upon the old foundations with his helmet in his lap and sheathed sword leaning against his knee.
Around him were three healthier-looking demons with muscular bodies. They were clad in equally well-maintained O-yoroi armor. Their monstrous faces were hidden behind oni masks. One flanked Shinraku on the left. To the right were two warriors, one further out and about a yard forward.
Shinraku shook the room with irate laughter.
"You do not relent. Good, it's been ages since I've had good entertainment." The three warriors near Shinraku popped their katanas free of the sheath with a thumb press and loud rattle. The blades were then drawn in smooth motions with muted friction of steel against leather.
"Race you to the third," Mitsuri remarked as she drew her katana. The ribbon blade moved in a graceful twisting line that fell to the ground at Mitsuri's side.
The two Hashira then bolted forward and away from each other.
"Love Breathing," rang from one wall to the other.
"Serpent Breathing," scratched over the distant sounds of fighting outside and throughout the building.
"First Form." Mitsuri shifted her spring to run headlong at the warrior on the left. The warrior brought his hilt to his cheek, keeping the point out in a stance ready to swing or stab.
"Second Form." Obanai wound his way between pillars in a convoluted path to the warrior on the far right. The armor-clad demon shifted quickly between stances, his blade held before him in middle position. He struggled to keep up.
Mitsuri's blade snapped as she twirled the hilt in her hand. She effortlessly leaned around and jumped over her opposing demon's lunge. The Love Hashira continued past the demon as her blade became a blur. Her heels almost touched the demon's when she landed, the blade reappearing behind her like a scarf snatched by the breeze.
"Shivers of First Love." The demon stiffened before pink arcs burst outward from his body. Armor pieces scattered over the ground before ichor escaped its body in thin sprays from the many wounds. The demon dropped to one knee before turning to ash.
Obanai slipped away from his prey's vision. The demon spun one way and then the other, armor clattering each time. Then, from a blind spot over the demon's shoulder, Obanai struck. He swung his blade with a singular purpose for the demon's neck, a thin metaphysical snake striking with the katana.
"Venom Fangs of the Narrow Head." The demon's head fell to the side and struck the ground moments before Obanai's feet. The fading body dropped to both knees in a sound like a pot dropped into the snow. Darkened ichor seeped from the stump atop the demon's shoulders, running down the body till nothing was left but a few splotches upon the ground mixed with flakey residue.
The third warrior stepped toward Obanai but was interrupted as black and pink steel wrapped around the sword in his hand. Mitsuri then forced the blade from the demon, causing it to stumble toward Obanai. The Snake Pillar simply stepped around the taller figure as it fell, spun on his heel, and swung his sword down upon the demon's neck.
"Onore! Damn you! Damn you worthless swords." Shinraku was no longer concealing his anger; it boiled over as he rose from the old shrine foundations. The hulking figure grabbed his blade before it toppled over and unsheathed the odachi. The dark steel held the hint of a glimmer. "I will rip you two apart and eat every last strip of your flesh. I will turn each and every one of your soldiers into replacements for the army you recklessly destroyed."
"You'll see the sun before you see their bodies," Obanai hissed. Kaburamaru leaned forward with a threatening splay of his fangs.
"So you aren't without casualty." The thought had a smile warp Shinraku's features to reveal his twisted demon teeth. The challenge was then issued. Shinraku brought his odachi over his head, where his off-hand wrapped around the hilt. The blade was slowly brought down in both hands, putting Shinraku in the middle stance.
In tandem, the Hashira responded. Mitsuri swung out her ribbon blade to wrap around the middle of the odachi. Obanai held his blade low to the side as he sprinted at the demon general.
Shinraku whipped his blade through the air, the action so sudden and with such force that Mitsuri was wrenched from her feet and sent crashing through a pillar, her blade unwrapping from the odachi. Obanai was close, not close enough to strike but close enough to be reached with the much longer sword used by the demon. Shinraku slowed his motions, realigned the edge, and swung out for Obanai. Kris blade was brought up and into both hands. Obanai natively reacted, filling his lungs and holding his breath to strengthen his brace.
The strike of sword against sword was sharp, the bitter clash of metal echoing through the room, through Obanai's ears, and along his bones. The swing had enough force behind it that the dark-haired Hashira slid back along the ground for a meter and a half. His shoulders and biceps were so tense that it felt like they had cracked from absorbing most of the impact.
Obanai's attention briefly flitted to his breathing and nothing more. The acrid, warm air pulled through his nose with a scent of smoke so thick it lingered on his tongue. He was conscious of his chest expanding, pushing against his uniform, as his lungs filled. A familiar warmth filled his body, tensing his muscles one after the other. The breathing technique soothed the ache in his arms and brought new energy fueled by the seething resentment for harming Kanroji.
No, he had to stay focused. He couldn't let his worry distract him. Mitsuri was a skilled warrior capable of taking a more potent hit than this demon could deliver.
"Tsuki," Kaburamaru whispered the move from the Kenjutsu style in a clipped syllable.
Obanai knew what that meant, and a quick fix of his gaze upon Shinraku confirmed the comment. The demon had brought his hilt up to one shoulder and was leveling the tip at Obanai's abdomen. Legs tensed in preparation for the lunge needed to execute the strike.
Before even the trained swordsman's body could respond, Mitsuri was jumping over Shinraku. "Cat-Legged Winds of Love," she cried out. While Mitsuri arched over Shinraku, her ribbon blade became a flurry of spinning and spiraling strikes, which she had intended for the demon's head.
Shinraku rivaled the Hashira's speed. He shifted lower, off-hand lifting from his blade to hold his forearm above his helm in protection. The arm severed at the elbow and fell to the ground, the only notable damage of the attack. As she continued her tumble through the air, the demon's hand expertly rotated his blade with a sharp clatter of the hand guard. He swung the sword out for Mitsuri before she could escape his range in a single diagonal slash, carefully aiming for where neck met shoulder.
"Hey!" Mitsuri yelled as she lashed out at the attack. Slayer steel met demon steel, keeping the Love Hashira unharmed.
"Surprised," Kaburamaru muttered, clarifying the distorted features of the demon kept just out of clarity.
The snake was correct; Shinraku was surprised as his blade was forced back. He underestimated Mitsuri's strength.
"Pressure," Kaburamaru encouraged, and then Obanai was away.
The slithering blade sang as Obanai put renewed vigor into closing the distance. Shinraku twisted his torso to face the new attack. With one remaining hand on the blade, he contorted his forearm and shoulder to lead his edge into an attack for the assaulting Hashira.
"Ashibarai," the albino snake upon Obanai's shoulder warned.
The oni swordsman was swiping his blade out for Obanai's legs, a technique some quick footwork effortlessly evaded. Then, the distance was shut. Obanai tilted his dominant shoulder forward, leaning into a single-handed slash. Shinraku stepped back, causing his heel to press against the old shrine foundation. He snapped his sword up and swiveled it through the air so Obanai's strike would halt against the blade's edge.
Shinraku grinned, a fresh arm emerging from the stump that Mitsuri had left. Pale gray skin strained against convulsing muscles, hands practically bursting at the knuckle.
"Shomen Uchi," came the warning as the new hand returned to Shinraku's blade. The odachi was brought above the demon's head, the sudden gesture knocking Obanai's blade down to the side.
As the blade came down for his head, the Hashira gripped the blade firmly in both hands and brought it up to lay horizontally above him, body twisted to better brace the defense.
The floor below Obanai groaned with a pain his hips and knees felt.
"Again," was the following warning for Obanai.
Teeth gritted, breath halted.
Obanai felt his shoulders and knees threaten to give as the second downward swing bounced against his blade. The demon was not going to provide another chance to escape or attack.
"Again."
"Will you stop that?" Mitsuri's voice echoed through the room. Her ribbon blade tugged upon Shinraku's blade to force the attack to the side and slow its momentum.
Obanai saw a chance and unwound his body and arm into a swing, seeming to bend stance and blade away from and around Shinraku's diverted assault.
Suddenly the butt of a fist was crashing into Obanai's chest, the hand having momentarily abandoned the odachi. The Hashira flew back, stopped by a column he was too light to notably damage. Instead, Obanai fell to the floor.
Head swam, chest ached like a boulder had been set upon it. Breath was gone, lungs emptied, and pain caused Obanai to struggle to inhale.
The next moment was consumed by a sound that wiped away all other sounds and left ears ringing. The room shook, and Obanai returned to the ground, only starting to regain his footing.
"Genya," Kaburamaru mused. Obanai nodded. Something was going right.
On his knees, propped up with one hand, Obanai forced his breaths. They had to be even, counted in groups of four.
Inhale, 'one.' Exhale. Inhale, 'two.' Exhale.
Shinraku's foot pounded as he rose to low stance, the tip of his odachi threatening to cut into the floor. Mitsuri was the first back into the fight. She kept moving while passing in front of her opponent. She intended to use the range advantage her blade gave her. She opened with a swing like a tongue of fire for Shinraku's exposed elbow.
Inhale, 'three.' Exhale. Inhale, 'four.' Exhale.
The odachi popped up to the side to halt the pink and black blade. A twist of the odachi stopped Mitsuri's attempt to have her sword flutter around the demon's and finish the attack. The Love Hashira's weapon whistled a rising note as it pulled from the odachi despite Shinraku's attempt to keep the blade tangled around his own.
The room shuttered. The wood and stone creaked and tumbled. Obanai felt the floor warm before he rose up with a sharp inhale. Dry, warm air flooded through his nostrils.
Mitsuri had her blade swing around behind her before slashing out for Shinraku's neck from the other side. It was simple for the demon to swivel his torso and have his blade once more block the attack. Hashira and demon both twisted their blades to try and grab a hold of the other, but in the end Mitsuri retracted her Ribbon blade before running by a column.
The crackle of open flames accentuated the noise of steel clashing and feet striking the ground.
"Serpent Breathing, First Form. Winding Serpent Slash," Obanai grumbled to himself as he rushed at Shinraku. His blade curled through the air, a pale ghost serpent unfurling behind it.
Shinraku's sweep for Obanai's side was repelled by swordsmith craft. Shinraku then stepped forward, shifting into an upward swing. A scaled body marked the path Obanai took around the uppercut.
Obanai then jumped up, hand guiding blade and spirit to Shinraku's neck. Shinraku leaned to the side as he adopted a high stance, odachi swerving to block the strike.
Sparks flew as the Nichirin weapon slid down the curved length of the odachi, only pulling away as Obanai rolled over Shinraku's shoulder. Hashira leaned into the momentum, so as he started falling behind the demon, the blade, and its chasing serpent doubled back toward the demon in a swipe that at least managed to carve through armor and shoulder blade. Sode was severed from the demon by a phantom snake's curled body, removing yet another piece of armor.
Blood fell to the ground in thick globs, splatting into pools that immediately began to steam.
Black and white Haori billowed up around Obanai, heavy layered locks swinging around his chin. Crouched low, Obanai began to spin on his heel, slithering blade bringing fang to bear upon Shinraku's ankle.
The first curved edge had met flesh when Shinraku spun on the injured foot, away from the attack. The other foot came around to hammer against Obanai's chest and pin him to the ground.
The spirit snake faded away, Obanai winded, breathing technique halted.
The odachi plunged down for Obanai's head. Kaburamaru remained defiant, neck curled in a threatening strike. Kris-katana was spun up with just enough force to divert the odachi, causing it to plunge into the ground. Burning scraps of wood and smoldering stone fell from the ceiling and bounced against Shinraku's armor.
"Weakling," Shinraku roared down. The blood from his back had already stopped flowing.
The demon general's attention was immediately stolen by the specially forged metal wrapping around his armored wrist. He responded quickly, wrenching his arm back and rolling his wrist, his fingers wrapping around the weapon.
Stinking blood flowed from between his fingers, yet he retained a grip on the blade. A tug forced Mitsuri to move close.
Shinraku abandoned his odachi, sticking up from the ground so his bare hand could swing a fist out for the Love Hashira's head.
Despite the force that would break bone and spirit, Mitsuri caught the blow.
"Disgusting!" Shinraku bellowed. "You would dare show such a base nature? Have you no honor as a woman?"
"You know nothing of honor," Mitsuri yelled back, voice just as loud even if lighter and higher-pitched. She yanked her blade back, severing the fingers on Shinraku's armored hand. She let her blade go to swing a fist back at the demon that towered over her. The blow slammed into the demon's finger-less palm. From Mitsuri's strength, the arm buckled.
"What are you?" Drool ran past Shinraku's sharp teeth, and foam collected on the sides of his mouth.
"I am the Love Hashira," Mitsuri boasted as she tensed and leaned into pushing against the demon. "Mitsuri Kanroji!"
"You'll die forgotten and without family with such crude behavior," Shinraku grumbled as he strained against Mitsuri's strength.
Obanai's body convulsed as it tried to cough under the pressure, but nothing was left in his chest to expel.
"I'll die married," Mitsuri contested as she forced a step forward. She shoved Shinraku back off of Obanai.
"Gyah!" Shinraku's new fingers burst from his blood-soaked palm and wrapped around Mitsuri's hand. He leaned back, forcing Mitsuri off the ground, then spun into a throw, sending the pink-haired girl through several columns.
Chunks of the ceiling collapsed inward before falling to the floor in heaps. The doorway crumbled and loosened stones buried in burning wood. Arms of fire flailed around the chunks of stonework.
Obanai rolled to his feet, renewed, and found a new indignation to fuel refreshed fury.
Shinraku flowed from his throw into pulling his odachi from the ground. He then stepped forward and went into a cut for Obanai's neck. Kaburamaru saw the subtle shift in speed that betrayed the true nature of the move.
The room began to flicker and quiver, rising flames deepening the shadows that glided around the room like a flock of birds.
"Swallow Counter." Fork tongue advised. Bright red eyes remained glued to every detail of movement on the demon before them.
It was no surprise to the swordsman when Shinraku's attack suddenly shifted back and fell into a swipe at his gut. The feint wasn't going to fool him. Obanai leaned his weight into the deflection. With the feint averted, Obanai lunged forward, sliding into a middle stance before swinging his blade out in a fluid horizontal strike for Shinraku's chest. The blow was batted away with the flat of the odachi.
Before Shinraku could reclaim the offense, Obanai let the deflected momentum of his blade slide into a low sweep for Shinraku's shins from the other direction. Shinraku swiveled a leg so the blade would glance off his armor. He then performed a sharp, shallow strike.
Breath escaped Obanai's lips in a single barking exhale as pain radiated in a spider-web of agony from his shoulder. Several inches of thick demon steel had buried into his shoulder, Kaburamaru barely moving enough to avoid injury.
A foot neither Obanai nor Kaburamaru saw was up, plunging forward for Obanai's knees to break them out from under him.
There was a thud, then the crack of steel igniting black powder. Next was the bellow of an insulted demon and the heavy crash of Shinraku falling to the ground, odachi sliding from the Snake Pillar's body.
Obanai breathed heavily, awkwardly stumbling back while desperately maintaining balance. He doubled over to lower his center of gravity, and through his own dark hair, he made out a figure he was becoming a bit too familiar with.
Atop debris from the ceiling was Genya. Thin gray clouds billowed from the pistol in his hand, katana casually gripped in the other. Bathed in the growing flames, the difference in his features was clear. They weren't just tense; they were that of a yokai. His eyes were dark, his teeth like a demon's, and even his hair had adopted new tones. Yet he was still human, and he looked under substantial strain. He was already reloading, stepping from the rubble. The gun spun to his thumb as the break snapped open and spat out spent shells.
A stream of blood was slowly cutting a path down dual-toned haori, sliding between the bars of black and white. Enough Total Concentration Breathing would let Obanai keep the pain at bay and heal enough of the wound to keep his arm mobile.
All attention was back on the demon as a new bare leg stomped the ground, and Odachi returned to the high stance.
Though not a word or gesture betrayed it, Obanai and Kaburamaru were desperate to check if Mitsuri was safe. Yet they knew their duty and could not let Shinraku gain any advantage.
"Kusomushi! You filthy insects!" The insult was flung through the air with frothing spittle.
Shinraku ran with surprising speed and form. From his appearance, one would expect him to charge like a bull; instead, he was like a horse. He blitzed Obanai, shifting his odachi to point at the Hashira's heart.
"Tsuki," Kaburamaru confirmed for his friend.
The attack was wild, executed from a near full-tilt run. Yet it was carried out with experience; the demon's form from chest to shoulder and through the arm to the wrist was flawless. The hot air whistled around the odachi's honed edge, a feint red glow tinging the blade's tip as it ripped through the air for Obanai.
"Right," was suddenly hissed into Obanai's ear. He barely caught a glance of Genya before he slammed himself, sword and gun first, against the odachi and threw it and Shinraku off course. Genya was screaming, putting about as much pressure on his diaphragm as he did upon the demon.
Obanai focused, his vision struggling to perceive the orange and gray-tinted world. "Right, out," Kaburamaru guided the first step of the Hashira. The advisement let Obanai put all attention on his body. Every muscle moved, fueled by breath that strained to pull oxygen through the smoke and a focus that had muscles moving beyond their usual physical limitations. Step after step brought Obanai around Shinraku in a blur as the demon struggled to get his Odachi from Genya. Obanai lifted through the air like a cobra's head, haori flaring around him. Blade glistened hungrily in his hand as the edge was aligned and brought over his head.
'Venom Fangs of the Narrow Head.'
A slim translucent viper darted through the air with Obanai's sword.
Dark ichor splashed over Genya, a wet sinking 'chop' emanating from Shinraku's neck. Then, a gargling laugh. The viper had already vanished. The lavender Nichirin sword was lodged partway into Shinraku's tense neck.
Obanai was quick to plant his feet against Shinraku's back. He tugged his blade free, most of the strength coming from his legs. As he returned to the ground, he fell back into a tumble.
Shinraku grabbed Genya by the head. The younger slayer flailed, his sword hacking shallow cuts into the exposed arm. A blind fire of his gun took a chunk out of Shinraku's chest, armor flying away from the new crater filling with blood.
The demon general hurled Genya across the room; the column the slayer crashed against caused sections of the burning ceiling to fall upon him.
The gorge rising in Obanai's throat felt and tasted like rage—anger that quickened his breathing and leaned into impulses of violence.
Bristling, fangs born, Kaburamaru mirrored the emotion outwardly. Yet his cooler mind prevailed. "Kanroji safe, help," the snake managed. It was enough to keep Obanai from attacking on instinct alone.
"Where?" Obanai held his sword in front of him should Shinraku turn upon him. The shuffle of armor as the demon turned toward Obanai demanded caution. Any threat the demon posed was momentarily removed as a column slammed into him like a battering ram.
Shinraku stumbled and eventually fell into a pile of rubble. He propped himself up and glowered at Mitsuri, the source of his current plight. This was a mistake.
"Heeyaahh," The Love Hashira cried out as she successfully threw the architecture at Shinraku's head. Mitsuri's haori was torn at the edges and closer to gray than white. Her braids were still done tight, but wild hairs were hanging free. Her cheeks were smeared with burned wood and stone dust.
"There," Kaburamaru finally replied.
Despite his struggle to see through the room, Obanai could still see Mitsuri's gem-like eyes as their gazes met. The hard edges of her expression melted into a smile, the pink of her cheeks visible even through the dirt. "Keep him busy?" She asked.
"Yes," the snake hissed even though she couldn't hear him. Obanai nodded to his fellow Pillar. Whatever sludge of anger and pain had been brewing in the smaller Hashira's chest vanished in a warm blaze. Concentration was refreshed, awareness radiating through his form, ready for a new fight. Obanai then turned toward Shinraku as the demon rose with a roar. He scattered burning rubble around him in his rage, odachi striking against ground and debris.
The demon hadn't steadied itself or put eyes on its enemies when Obanai rushed in. The Hashira swiped out for Shinraku's legs. The deflection was hasty and sloppy but enough to bounce Obanai's blade away. Obanai then dashed back to avoid the downward swing Shinraku replied with.
Shinraku let the evaded swing maintain momentum as he circled the hilt back toward his shoulder and tip swung up to aim at the significantly smaller swordsman. A step forward that cracked the floor let Shinraku move back into range and plunge his sword toward Obanai's chest.
With clear direction from his reptilian companion, Obanai slid one foot to the side and leaned away from the attack, holding his other foot up off the ground. As the thrust reached its zenith, Obanai slammed his foot down on the flat of the odachi with a ragged exhale. Even with inspired strength, he had no effect on Shinraku's grip or form.
Shinraku jerked his blade back up and to the side. He forced Obanai off his sword but was clearly displeased when Obanai naturally transitioned into a defensive low stance, blade held forward with tip toward the ground. Shinraku took another dominating step forward as he snapped briefly into the middle stance. He then sent out a snappy strike for the body, the same one he had success with before.
Obanai was ready this time. His body twisted away from the blow as his kris katana jumped to meet the blade. The curves of the katana kept the odachi from sliding. The Hashira kept twisting, spinning under his arm to send the odachi harmlessly off to the other side. Attack diverted, the katana sprung like an angry viper.
The demon stepped back, the tip of the Pillar's katana etching a line into what remained of the armor over his chest. The retaliation, a kiriage called out by Kaburamaru, was simply avoided, the odachi swinging into an uppercut harmlessly as Obanai moved just out of range once more.
More distance was put between Obanai and the demon as Shinraku jumped back. Obanai would have suspected deceit if not for the twirling blade of pink and black left in the demon general's space.
Mitsuri landed at Obanai's side, her blade drawn back over her shoulder.
"You-" Shinraku began before being cut off by the discharge of a firearm. His already exposed leg buckled as most of his knee was removed in a spray of iron and gore that scattered against his other leg and the heat-warped floor. The floor whined as Shinraku's weight shifted, and his Odachi warbled as the tip was stabbed into the ground for some support while the leg healed.
"Shut up, you ugly bastard!" Screamed Genya, standing from the pile of ruin he had finally emerged from. He slammed the butt of his sword on his gun to crack the back open, removing spent shells from the break. He smacked the weapon against his hip to force rounds from his belt into the gun before it was closed once more.
"Do you want to sit through another demon speech," teased Mitsuri in a voice that was obviously kept loud enough to insult Shinraku. Her smirk to her admirers caused Kaburamaru to briefly lose the appearance of threat.
"Certainly not," Obanai said, eyes shutting in false exasperation.
Mixed eyes met with green. There was a pause, a barely detectable moment. Obanai emptied his lungs, Mitsuri paused at the end of her exhale. Then the two Hashira breathed. In unison, they drew the oxygen they could from the air. The pain in Obanai's shoulder fell away, replaced with a warmth like a sauna. He felt lighter on his feet.
The Hashira exhaled in unison, gazes turning upon Shinraku. The Demon general roared as his leg healed, splotches of blood staining his exposed leg and simmering on the floor.
As they inhaled together, Obanai and Mitsuri rushed at their prey.
Mitsuri jumped to pass over the crouched Obanai. Dancing on the air, she sent a steam-spitting blade at Shinraku's neck. Sliding along the ground, slithering blade weaved through the air to conceal a swing for the shared opponent's still armored leg.
The attempt to evade and deflect had limited success. Though the demon moved most of his leg away from Obanai, he was too slow, and several inches were carved from armor and flesh. His odachi met with Mitsuri's ribbon katana, letting him keep his head, but the blade could not be entirely deflected. It cut his still attached Sode in half and sliced through his collarbone.
Genya's charge straight for the demon was more easily handled. Mitsuri landed, and Obanai's slide halted, leaving the two behind and off either side of Shinraku. Genya's sword was rammed into Shinraku's, and the hulking figure was visibly swayed off-center by the force of the ram.
Genya brought his gun up for an aim right at Shinraku's face. The barrel was grabbed and jerked upward as the trigger was pulled. Fire and shrapnel were spat at the ceiling, already weakened stonework sprinkling dust on the clashing figures. Genya screamed incoherently as his body strained, sharply cut muscles practically threatening to crack the bones beneath.
A kick at Genya's chest had him slide back, but Genya remained up and balanced in defiance. Shinraku took a step forward, avoiding the Hashira's next unified attack. He wasn't fast enough, both unique Nichirin katana's carving lines in his back that let the blood run and had armor hit the ground like out-of-tune woodwinds.
Genya went for a swing, but he wasn't fast enough. Shinraku was bringing a lethal strike to the younger slayer's body from the side. The attack was stopped with a scream of metal and sparks, Obanai sliding in from under the attack with his lavender sword.
Genya stepped back to reload his pistol.
Shinraku began to scream, hollow eyes adopting a purple glow.
Obanai's brow creased in indignation.
Shinraku stepped forward, and Obanai dashed back. Mitsuri's ribbon blade cut a section into the demon's side that healed even as droplets of blood ran to the surface of the wound.
A downward cut for Obanai's head was deflected. The Hashira responded with a lunge for the heart, but the odachi kept the attack at bay.
The two were moving faster and faster, attacks and deflections blurring together. Shinraku stepped forward again, swinging for Obanai's legs. The Snake Pillar jumped over the attack to swing unexpectedly from lower right to upper left, the attack meant for Shinraku's arm.
Mitsuri's ribbon blade flew around Obanai. The demon moved away to the side to avoid both attacks.
Shinraku's scream continued to shake the room. He forced his odachi into an uppercut for the midair Obanai. A flash of the Twisted Nichirin Katana forced the odachi off its path and let Obanai return to the ground.
The pressure was maintained. Obanai dashed forward, leaning forward to claim the exposed leg with steel. Shinraku swung a foot in a threat to kick Obanai, and both motions were so fast it would be hard to say which would land first. There'd be no answer as Obanai darted to the side, abandoning his attack to avoid the foot that slammed to the ground.
Mitsuri's ribbon blade was kept at bay by a shift of the odachi.
Swing. Deflect. Dodge. Parry. Obanai weaved around Shinraku as the demon maintained immaculate balance, his fury continuing to flow from his lips mixed with steaming breath and blood-tinged spit.
A gunshot into Shinraku's hip caused his waist armor to fall away, but the chunk of bone and meat removed were instantly healed.
To the Hashira, the world slowed. The gentle coo of breathing consumed the bandwidth of their ears, and all other sounds were dull mutterings. Together, they inhaled. One did not dare exhale without the other. For the moment, they did not need eyes or words to know where the other was or what they were doing. Mitsuri felt like an extension, like another blade perfectly fitted to his hand, even if he would not risk holding her.
The connection wasn't shattered as Genya charged Shinraku while Obanai leaned away from the Kesa-giri for his throat. It was shattered as the attack transitioned into a Swallow Counter that cut deep into Genya's side.
Hazy vision wildly swept the room to confirm that Mitsuri couldn't see the attack. Genya's scream faltered, blood spraying over his chin from his mouth. Shinraku took the slayer by the head and wrenched him from the blade.
Then …laughter? No. Why was Genya laughing? Even Shinraku seemed confused.
"Stupid bastard," Genya said as he placed his gun against the demon's chin.
Panicked, Shinraku tried to tilt his head away, but the trigger was pulled. Helm flew off, the demon losing his lower jar and part of his throat. In a rage, he threw Genya away.
Shinraku gargled a fury that bubbled through the blood streaming from his missing features and down his front.
"Genya!" Mitsuri screamed. It was impossible to miss the lower rank hurtling into the old shrine and bringing down part of the wall upon himself.
"Focus," Obanai commented, noticing Mitsuri start toward Genya. "We kill this monster first," he clarified. He also didn't want to risk her getting too close. She hadn't noticed the change in Genya yet, and if he could spare the boy that much, he would.
"Right!"
The two locked eyes.
"Love (Serpent) Breathing (Breathing)," The two recited their own mantras in unison.
"First (First) Form (Form.)" Feet left the ground, Obanai came from behind, and Mitsuri attacked from the front.
"Shivers of (Winding) First (Serpent) Love (Slash)." Shinraku reared back, the odachi hilt cracking in the force of his grip. His other hand formed into a blunt claw.
Shinraku stepped to the side, the assailants following. Pink and white sparks dancing around Mitsuri approached as threateningly as the serpent on Obanai's heels.
Shinraku spun and spun, odachi swinging from attack to attack. The onslaught was overwhelming, blood spraying again and again in bursts halted by rapid healing. Obanai and Mitsuri fluttered around Shinraku, one going high when the other went low.
Shinraku screamed, his jaw returned. He grabbed the ribbon blade and pulled it, forcing Mitsuri to slide close. She stopped herself by slamming her hand against Shinraku's sword hand.
Like smoke in a strong wind, Obanai was gone, and the dual assault stopped. Then the demon heard it—the shift and rush of air from behind.
Shinraku, disregarding the girl clinging to his hand, went to spin around and swing his odachi despite the Hashira's grip. He coughed at the sound of tearing flesh. Mitsuri hadn't moved like Shinraku expected. Her heels had planted to the ground, and she used her strength to rip his sword arm off.
Glowing dark eyes met Obanai's near-perfect white.
"Venom Fangs of the Narrow Head," Obanai and Kaburamaru hissed.
Shinraku tried to block the attack from his right with his remaining arm. He was mistaken. Obanai swung his blade in from the left.
Shinraku tensed, neck muscles bulging.
Obanai's edge alignment was flawless.
Fang, steel, and fury combined in a slice that severed muscles, skin, and bone.
A stillness took the hot air. Dark smoke gathered along the ceiling before silently escaping the various holes in the construction. Fabric rustled from black and white haori wavering behind angular motions. A soft thud resounded as Obanai landed on his feet.
Shinraku's head was removed. The body that remained fell to its knees with a heavy crash that quickly faded away.
Through the smoke, surprisingly soft words in a voice like cracking clay muttered, "I lead them …to …death. They deserved another…" There was a strange sadness to the tone, not one Obanai felt much sympathy for.
The remains of Shinraku, the demon general, became a fine powder lost in the swirls of smoke and burning detritus.
The battle was over, but the trial of the Hashira wasn't.
Cracks and groans marked the movements of the shuttering room. "Escape," Kaburamaru encouraged into Obanai's ear.
"Can you get us a way out?" Obanai questioned of Mitsuri.
She nodded. "Yeah!"
"Alright, I'll find Genya." The two then parted, the Love Hashira darting toward the entrance. Kaburamaru guided Obanai through the smoke and wildly fluctuating light. Sharp words kept the two from stumbling into open flames.
The debris pile the snake was certain was correct was chunks of solid stone, cracked ceiling tiles, and large splinters of beams. "Genya," Obanai hesitantly called out.
The pile grumbled.
Obanai began pulling plaster, stone, and wood away through heavy breaths and strained muscles. "We have to get out of here," the frustrated Hashira complained. A mostly intact beam swiveled back and forth before it, and a large portion of the pile collapsed to the side. It left Genya hunched over, a hole in his chest from where some wood had impaled him closed slowly. The wound on his side was gone, only the oddly separated stains of blood on his side and uniform indicating something had been wrong. The younger slayer's characteristics were still that of a demon's.
"What did you do?" Obanai asked under his breath.
Genya refused to make eye contact.
Obanai elicited questioning looks from Kaburamaru and Genya as he began to undo his face mask. The smoke-smelling, blood-stained cloth slowly slid from Obanai's face. The ragged scars that stretched from cheek to cheek were exaggerated against exhaustion-drained skin. His sharp, pointed chin shifted side to side as Obanai uncomfortably ground his teeth.
"Put this on," the Hashira demanded, holding out the bandages.
"I can't-" Genya began, voice scratchier than usual.
"Unless you want questions from Mitsuri and the others, put it on." As he rebuked the protest, Obanai's pensive expression quickly returned to its natural contours of annoyance.
Genya relented and took the bandages, wrapping them around his head, hiding most of his face but one eye that was partially swollen shut and hard to make out. Once the wrap was secured, Obanai helped Genya from the rubble. The lower rank then stumbled on his first step.
"Come on, give me your arm," Obanai said.
"I'll be fine," was the sheepish comment in reply. The glower the remark received from Kaburamaru and Obanai caused Genya to reconsider. He was broader and much heavier, but he needed the support. Reluctantly, Genya put an arm over Obanai's shoulder and let some of his weight press against the Hashira. Obanai didn't expose how the weight reignited the pain in his shoulder that radiated through his body.
The two hobbled toward the entrance. As soon as their shapes were visible through the smoke-filled room, Mitsuri rushed to help.
"Iguro-san! You two are okay!" She pushed herself under Genya's other arm. Obanai could feel Genya tense, leaning more of his weight toward Obanai, away from Mitsuri. The three walked in clumsy cooperation through the smoke. The exit was a dark, jagged hold. Mitsuri had removed enough of the destruction for the three to escape. Chests shook, and breaths turned to coughs even as the three approached the balcony's edge. It was mostly intact except for the half-wall, which was crumbled away from the edge.
Without warning, Mitsuri grabbed the two warriors and jumped back to the courtyard.
The three breathed heavily as they recuperated away from the burning room. Genya had taken to leaning against Obanai again. The night air sounded like rustling paper and snapping rocks as the fortress around burned. The grind of shifting masonry marked the slow crumbling of the structure. All of it was lost under the loud cheer that erupted from the Slayers gathered breathlessly in the courtyard together. Their presence surprised the trio, who still had to gain their bearings. Mitsuri began to laugh. Genya seemed frozen in shock. Obanai tilted his face down to the side, hoping his hair and the shadows could hide enough of his face.
The lower ranks crowded closer, their combined voices refusing to hide their enthusiasm. It was over, and their champions had returned victorious. Obanai stole a glance over at Mitsuri, who was close enough that he could almost make out the tears of relief and joy gathering in her large eyes. She began cheering with the assembled.
"Proud?" Kaburamaru whispered.
Obanai nodded.
"Let them know?"
Obanai shook his head. Kaburamaru didn't push the matter. Not even Obanai's aloof appearance would dissuade the celebration of victory.
Next time: Recovery