Chapter Text
Become a demon, Kyojuro.
Hand outstretched, hopeful eyes. The clash of his blade against flesh and shockwaves, the smell of blood and the crackling of the flames in his ears.
The pain in his left eye and in his middle as he breathed to control his injuries. The silence broken by newborn rays of light that eclipsed the glow of Akaza’s eyes, round and yellow and bright like a full moon, forcing the demon to retreat in the dark of the forest. Tanjiro’s screams as he chased after the Upper Moon, angry, indignant, scared of what had happened and scared of what could have happened -
Kyojuro fell to his knees under the watchful eye of the sun, loosening the tight control he had over his body now that the danger had passed, safe in the warmth of the daylight. Tanjiro came at his side, face drawn tight in concern, eyes worried and shining with unshed tears. There was something Kyojuro wanted to tell him, something he needed to tell him, just in case…just in case. The boy begged him to stop talking, to conserve his strength, to focus on his breathing. Kyojuro tried to smile to reassure him, but his body was aching and he was tired.
He closed his eye and let the darkness embrace him.
The words echoed even as his consciousness slipped away.
Become a demon, Kyojuro.
Aoi closed the door behind her a bit more forcefully than necessary, heaving a deep sigh.
Zenitsu was always exhausting to deal with, even when there was no fight against bitter medicine to be had. But while the boy was a dreadful patient, she still cared deeply for him and she would not deny the relief she had felt when he, Tanjiro and Inosuke all showed up injured but very much alive, after that dreadful mission on the Infinity Train.
Two weeks had passed since they had been brought to the Butterfly Mansion along with the Flame Pillar, who had looked more dead than alive. While he was now out of immediate danger, his recovery would be slow. Crushed left eye, broken ribs, smashed innards… Without Shinobu’s miracle medicine and the crazy control Pillars had over their breathing, he would have died. As it was, Shinobu was confident Rengoku would make a good recovery, albeit slow. He could probably take up his sword again, if he so wished. A lot of training would be needed to make up for his lost eye but that was not impossible. Aoi could not begin to imagine how one could keep fighting after such a close call with death, but she never had the drive to begin with.
She went to get another candle and lit it swiftly. Rengoku was the last patient she had to check on before turning in for the day, at least for a few hours of sleep before she made another round. His temperature had started to go up steadily this afternoon, so they needed to make sure it would not spiral out of control. Shinobu had said it was to be expected and had left clear instructions should it start to get worse before leaving for another mission. Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho had all agreed on a schedule to watch over the Flame Pillar.
Aoi opened the door to Rengoku's room silently and took two steps inside before freezing, a feeling of dread washing over her.
The window, which she knew she had closed before the night fell, was now wide open. She could make out a silhouette perched on the sill, hidden in the darkness, the small flame of her candle and the rays of the moon catching on well defined muscles and pale skin. Even from where she stood, even with the darkness of the room, there was no mistaking the glowing yellow eyes and the kanji written upon them.
Upper Moon 3.
Akaza.
The one who put Rengoku into that same hospital bed.
Aoi tightened her grip on her light, mind whirring. How did she not sense him? The estate was surrounded by wisteria a few yards away, how did the demon even get there in the first place? And why tonight of all nights, when Shinobu was out on a mission with Kanao, leaving the estate without someone in any shape to fight? She had no doubt he would kill her before she could get to a crow, and even if she could manage it, by the time anyone would come to their help there would be nothing to save. Luck was not on her side today. Still, even as scared as she was right now, she had to try. She could not let herself and Rengoku die without fighting. The Flame Pillar's katana was laying on top of a piece of furniture close to her right, she could make it. She could make it.
Sorry, Rengoku, she apologized at the thought of borrowing his sword without his consent.
But before she could take one step with her newfound resolve, the demon cut her short.
“Come on in,” he said, eyes unblinking, voice soft and low like he did not want to disturb the peace of the room. “Do your job.”
Aoi stood there, her feet frozen in place, dumbfounded at being addressed directly.
“Do your job,” Akaza snapped this time, irritated at having to repeat himself.
She jumped and hurried inside, closing the door behind her at last. She had no idea what game he was playing, but she had no hope to defeat him anyway. If checking on Rengoku would be the last thing she did, well...at least she would die helping someone.
She went to the Flame Pillar's bedside, all too aware of the eyes following her every movement. Akaza's gaze was a burning feeling between her shoulder blades, and all of her instincts screamed at her what a fool she was for turning her back on such a foe. She fought against them and tried to lose herself in the repetitive gestures of caring for her patient. Checking his temperature. Wiping his forehead with a cool cloth. Getting him to drink some water. Changing the bandages around his head, applying an ointment on his eye before wrapping it again. Wiping his brow one last time. Gathering the old bandages to throw them away.
By the time she was done and steeled herself to turn around, Akaza was gone.
She did not see him again.
But there was a nagging doubt at the back of her mind. She kept finding the window in Rengoku's room open. The medications and the water basin subtly moved around the bedside table. She had come twice to the room the following nights to find Rengoku's forehead already cool to the touch. The other girls were mystified but didn’t seem to have an inkling of what - of who - was causing it.
They clearly had a pest problem, and a big one at that. Her anxiety levels had gone through the roof, but she kept the issue to herself and maintained her usual demeanor.
A full week after that fateful encounter, Shinobu and Kanao returned to the estate and Aoi thought she would cry in relief. She explained what happened to the Insect Pillar: the opened window, the moving objects, the weird care the demon seemed to have for Rengoku. Shinobu frowned, taken aback by such news and clearly unhappy with them. A demon, roaming freely in her estate? That was inconceivable. Inacceptable. While they never had any issue before, it seemed they needed to up their defenses to match an Upper Moon's strength...and potential tolerance for wisteria.
Together, they drew up plans to keep the creatures of the dark at bay. Wisteria was hung on the outside of the building. Incense was lit as soon as the sun set.
The window stayed closed. The medication never moved again. The water basin was never emptier or fuller than how she left it.
Rengoku opened his eye at last, and Aoi's happiness was tainted by the sinking feeling that whatever he had with Akaza, it was not over yet.
“Are you sure you want to go back already?” Kocho asked him, a week later. “You can still stay here until you're completely healed. We have enough space.”
“Thank you,” Kyojuro answered with a smile. “I've been far away from home long enough.”
“I see. You must also miss your family.”
Especially since you almost got to never see them again, she didn't add. The grief of losing a sibling was something she was well acquainted with.
“That too!” he laughed.
“Before you go, though, there is something you must know…”
She gestured to the empty chair next to her desk and Kyojuro, sensing her seriousness, sat down with a frown.
“When you were sick with that fever, I stepped away for a few days for a mission. During that time, Akaza came to the estate.”
“This is...Are you certain?”
“Aoi saw him. There was no mistake. He didn’t do anything...but be careful.”
“Well… That was certainly unexpected! You worry he's going to follow me back home?”
She nodded.
“I know you and your father can defend yourselves, but your brother is young.”
“I'll protect Senjuro. I survived him once, didn't I?”
“That’s true”, she conceded. “Just...promise me you’ll send for help if anything happens.”
“I will. You have my word, Kocho. Thank you for taking care of me.”
His welcome home was, as always, both tenderly warm and utterly cold. His father barely acknowledged his return but for a quip about his brush with death. Kyojuro could only hope this was his way of being grateful that he had indeed survived, but his father’s heart was too shrouded in darkness to be sure of the meaning of his words. Senjuro, on the other hand, hugged him while both crying and laughing and did not let go for a long time. Kyojuro returned his embrace tenfold and swore to himself he would get stronger. He could not stop his younger brother from worrying for him, but he could do his best to lighten his burden by ensuring this outcome would not happen again any time soon.
They spent the day together, training and talking. Senjuro told him of Tanjiro’s visit, how he had stood up to their father when he badmouthed them. Kyojuro smiled and recounted how the young demon slayer fought at the Infinity Train, and watched his brother get stars in his eyes and a jaw slack from awe. Having someone closer to his age around would probably be beneficial for Senjuro, and Kyojuro has grown fond of the boy himself. He still needed to properly ask Tanjiro about training to become his successor, but he hoped the young man would accept. He was full of potential, and Kyojuro wanted to help him unlock it even further.
The day soon turned dark and Kyojuro wished his little brother good night as they finished their dinner. Exhaustion was catching up with him, his body still weak after his last fight and the long time he had spent in bed.
When he opened the door to his room, his breath caught in his throat.
He had been expecting this. He had. After Kocho’s warning, and the way their fight has ended, it had been a given their paths would cross again -
And yet, seeing the form of Upper Moon 3 lazing around his room came as a surprise. Anticipation, excitement and a hint of fear washed over him.
I did not sense him at all, he thought dumbly as he slid the door back behind him. He’s right here and I’m barely getting anything.
Akaza was sitting on the path facing the garden, leaning on his arms in a backward fashion, head held towards the sky.
Towards the moon, if Kyojuro had to guess. He broke the silence first.
“I was told an uninvited guest had shown up at my room before, but I did not think you would be this desperate to see me again.”
The demon turned to face him at that, fangs glinting in the moonlight in a predatory smile.
“To see you? Always.”
Now, that was not the kind of attention Kyojuro was used to. He sighed, and deciding that Akaza didn’t seem like a threat at the moment but unwilling to trust him, went to sit on his floor close to where his blade rested.
“Why are you here?”
“Why else? I want to finish our fight.”
“This fight is over. It was over when you decided to run away.”
Akaza paused at that. He tilted his head like he was thinking his words over, and seemingly unbothered by them, shrugged before amending his answer: “Another fight, then.”
“Then you’ll be disappointed, because I am in no shape to give you my best.”
Akaza clicked his tongue.
“Humans are so slow to heal.”
“Is that why you came to see me at the Butterfly Mansion? To help me recover faster?”
“Of course. The quicker you’d be back on your feet, the quicker I could fight you again.”
“Not a bad reasoning...but not one I would expect your kind to have. Wouldn’t it be easier to just finish me then?”
“I don’t want to kill you, Kyojuro. I want to fight you.”
Kyojuro crossed his arms. The difference was lost on him.
“Well, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”
The demon frowned, narrowing his eyes, putting Kyojuro’s on edge. He didn’t seem the type to have much patience. That he was sitting here and indulging him in conversation already felt like a miracle.
“I could always give you an incentive to fight,” Akaza threatened, though his tone stayed light and playful. “You fight hardest when trying to protect someone, don’t you? How is that sweet little brother of yours called again?” His smile grew larger. “Or maybe I could see what the look on your face is like when you’re fighting for revenge.”
Dread washed over Kyojuro. Senjuro. Not Senjuro. He slowly uncrossed his arms, his right hand falling close to his sword’s handle, a move that did not go unnoticed.
“You didn’t kill Aoi,” he stated carefully. “Why start here?”
“Who?”
“The demon slayer who saw you, that night at the hospital.”
“The girl? Of course not,” Akaza scoffed.
“...why not?” Kyojuro prompted after a few seconds of silence, when it became clear that Akaza wasn’t adding anything.
The demon seemed taken aback.
“Why not what?”
“That’s it? That’s your reasoning? She’s a girl? So what, you just...don’t kill women?”
“That’s it.”
Kyojuro gaped, unable to grasp what he was hearing. A demon, not killing people?
“But why?”
“Because. Am I asking you stupid questions -”
“Do you see women as weak? Too frail? Too fragile? Unworthy of your time?”
“That’s not -”
“Because that seems like a very stupid thing to think! What are you gonna do if a female demon slayer attacks you? Run away with your tail between your legs?”
“I won’t -”
“That’s a huge weakness to me! Did you know there are two female Pillars? If you underestimate them because of their gender you’re going to have a very hard time -”
Akaza hit the floor with enough force to send a tremor through the whole house.
“I don’t know, alright?” he spat. “I don’t know why I don’t, I just can’t! They’re not weak. I know they’re not weak.”
A heavy silence fell around them after his outburst. Kyojuro felt he had gone too far, crossed a line he didn’t know was there. But he felt no guilt at having done so. Demons had no need to prove their cruelty, with the way they’d been gruesomely killing humans for the past centuries. He was not going to thank Akaza for being kind enough to spare half of humanity. And yet...he couldn’t help being curious. It was unusual. He’s heard more than his share of demons openly sharing their eating preferences for a type of humans, but the opposite? That never happened.
Soft footsteps echoed outside his room, followed by a cautious knock.
“Brother? Are you alright?”
Kyojuro sent a warning look to Akaza, whose gaze was now fixed on the door. He got to his feet and went to reassure his brother, opening the door just so to make sure Senjuro could not get a glimpse of his unwanted guest.
“What is it? Can’t sleep?”
“Um, no, I thought I heard voices...and there was this...some kind of earthquake? Didn’t you feel it?”
Kyojuro was an honest man. He hated lying. But he knew the truth was not always the best thing to say. Especially if the truth meant bringing up Akaza.
“Are you sure you didn’t dream it as you were falling asleep?” he chuckled, ruffling Senjuro’s hair at the top of his head. The boy reddened, now unsure of what happened.
“Ah...maybe…”
“We don’t have earthquakes around here! Now, go back to sleep, everything is fine.”
“I will do that. Good night, brother!”
Kyojuro waved him goodbye and made sure Senjuro had disappeared into his own room at the end of the corridor before turning to face Akaza again, throwing him an accusatory glare. The demon was unfazed by it.
“You’re the one who started it.”
Kyojuro huffed and went back to sit next to his blade, even if Akaza had shown no harm so far. He took a deep breath. Be the adult, Kyojuro, he encouraged himself.
“I...apologize for taking things too far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
A complicated whirlwind of emotions flashed on Akaza’s face as the demon was clearly taken aback by the apology, before he settled on a neutral expression. He went back to looking outside, leaving Kyojuro with a view on his profile.
“I just don’t remember,” he said quietly. A peace offering. Kyojuro took it, gently.
“Well...it seems it was pretty important, then.”
Akaza said nothing in response.
“If you don’t kill them...does that mean you don’t eat them either?”
“Pretty hard to eat someone without killing them, you know.”
“No,” Kyojuro answered in a flat tone, “I wouldn’t know.”
This startled a laugh out of the demon.
“No, I guess not,” he smiled as he got to his feet and turned around to face the Flame Pillar.
Kyojuro tensed.
“Become a demon, Kyojuro,” Akaza offered once again, all bright eyes and sharp fangs, like he did so many nights ago when they met for the first time.
Now, this was a dance he was familiar with.
“Never,” he swore in return.
Akaza’s smile widened, like Kyojuro’s words were a challenge he couldn’t wait to overcome.
“We’ll see,” he taunted before jumping outside, fading into darkness.
Kyojuro stayed in his sitting position for a long time after his departure, mulling over the odd meeting that just happened. Then exhaustion caught up to him once more, and he changed slowly into his sleeping clothes before sliding into his bed.
Sleep claimed him as soon as his head touched the pillow, void of dreams and of nagging demons.
The next morning, Kyojuro wondered if last night had not just been a dream. Senjuro didn’t mention that tremor again and their father did not comment on it either. There was nothing to prove him wrong.
...There was also nothing to prove him right.
Senjuro was happy to keep him company during his training, joining him even for some exercise when he had nothing else to attend to. He may not have been especially gifted with a sword, nor clung to the dream of being a Pillar himself anymore, but training had always been a precious moment to share together. Full of success and failure, of laughter and tears, of hardships to overcome.
Kyojuro was strictly stuck with breathing exercises for the moment, though. Kocho had been very clear about it, all sweet smiles hiding promises of death should her rules not be followed.
“Come back for a check up in one week,” she had asked. “Then I’ll reconsider whether you’re fit enough for anything more physically demanding.”
One week breathing day and night.
After running around hunting demons for so long, Kyojuro felt as if time had stopped. There was so much of it he didn’t know what to do to fill his days. The medication he had been put on during the worst of his injuries was also starting to wear off, and with it came a constant dull pain in his middle. Running or raising his arms in any way made it worse, like Kocho warned him of. He knew time and sleep was what his body needed right now, but he couldn’t help feeling restless.
And frustrated.
As he navigated the house and did small everyday tasks, Kyojuro was acutely aware of his new depth perception and smaller visual range. He kept being off when grabbing something, and bumped into furniture daily. Senjuro did not let him pour anything that was not cold water.
“I have started playing shogi these past months. I found an old board when cleaning up one of our guest rooms, and well...I had time to try it. Would you like to play with me? It may help you learn how to aim in a calm way?”
“That’s a brilliant idea, Senjuro! You’ll have to explain the rules to me, though. I have no idea how to play!”
“Of course!”
And so they played, and as the hours passed Kyojuro thought one week of full rest would not be so bad, after all.
Then night came, and with it promises and threats.
Kyojuro had been meditating cross-legged on the veranda outside his room, enjoying the fresh air before calling it a day. Breathing deeply, in, out...in...out…
A breeze caressed his face, and his ears picked up the sound of soft crunching.
In…
“Kyojuro,” purred a voice he was starting to become too familiar with for his own taste.
He sighed. Out… So last night was...truly not a dream.
“Akaza,” he acknowledged. “I didn’t think you would be here every night.”
“I was close by,” the demon answered, like that was enough of an excuse. “Feeling better?”
Kyojuro opened his eye. Akaza was crouching in front of him in the garden, eyes as bright as ever. Curious. Waiting. As patient as a child who could not grasp what time truly meant.
“Not really.”
The smile fell, turning into disappointment.
“You’re probably a month too early for me to be able to swing a blade correctly again.”
Which would still be nowhere near his previous level of skills. The demon frowned and said nothing in return, watching him. Gauging him. Kyojuro wondered what he hoped to find that had not already been said.
“Become a demon, Kyojuro,” he finally said. “Heal those injuries in the blink of an eye.”
“I won’t become a demon. Isn’t it too late for these wounds anyway? It’s been quite some time since you gave them to me.”
“Time doesn’t matter when you’re a demon. You could have only one leg and one arm and still be reborn whole.”
Reborn. How different their views were, for Akaza to praise it as rebirth when Kyojuro could imagine it as nothing but death. Death of the body. Death of the mind. Death of the soul. Until nothing remained but this hunger for blood, hunger to fight.
“I won’t become a demon,” he repeated, standing his ground. He’ll say it a thousand times, and then a thousand times more.
He closed his eye and focused back on his breathing. In… Out… In… Out…
He didn’t know how long Akaza kept him company in silence. When the gravel crunched under new footsteps and Kyojuro opened his eye again to find the garden empty, the moon had since moved in the sky. The demon slayer breathed a few times more before returning to his room, heeding sleep’s call.
The rest of the days passed in a similar fashion.
He meditated, went through his breathing exercises, played with Senjuro at both shogi and some card games to get used to his new range of sight. He cooked with his brother and ate with his brother, and resolved to come back here more frequently once he was back on missions. He hadn’t noticed how much he had been missing those small moments.
The days were warm and full of light, lit by Senjuro’s smile. The nights were cold and sharp, bringing Akaza’s form to his doorstep.
Ever since that first night, their conversations went the same.
“How are you feeling, Kyojuro?” the demon would ask, like he truly cared and was not only after a fight. “Become a demon,” he would press over and over again, like one day Kyojuro would slip up and accept his offer.
“Not good,” he would answer in return when the pain had been too much that day. “Better,” he would say when he was able to maintain total concentration breathing for hours without any strain. “I will not become a demon,” he would repeat and end the conversation there.
Sometimes Akaza would leave immediately. Sometimes he would stay, a silent shadow, until Kyojuro retired for the night.
One week passed.
“Your injuries are looking better, Rengoku. Have you worked on your breathing? How is your range of movement?”
“I have! I cannot yet hold total concentration breathing for a full day, but it’s becoming easier. Stretching my torso still hurts, but it’s not a sharp pain like before.”
Kocho nodded and took some notes.
“You can start working on getting your muscles back, if you wish so. I’d recommend to keep it to a few hours a day of training for now, you can increase it gradually once your body gets better. Leave the sword for now, too. You’ll know when you’re ready to pick it up again.”
“I will.”
“It may be good for your left eye to be in the open air, now, too. When you’re not kicking dust around, at least. Keep putting the ointment on it. Does it still hurt?”
“Sometimes. It’s not too bad.”
“I noticed you were more confident when walking around today. What about handling items?”
Kyojuro nodded. “Senjuro has suggested playing some games to improve on this, and it’s definitely helping!”
“That was a great idea,” Kocho praised.
“That it was! He’s been very helpful. I’m lucky to have such a kind younger brother.”
“He must be very happy that you’re recovering well. Alright, I’ll get your medication and you can be on your way. I will be away for a few days at least starting tomorrow, so if anything arises you can ask Aoi for help.”
“A mission?”
“Yes, it seems one of the demons we talked about in the last Pillar meeting has been active in this area of late. There’s no solid lead yet, so I am going to investigate.”
Kyojuro wracked his head to remember which demons had been brought up that time. The Infinity Train had been part of it, and at least three more if he hadn’t forgotten anything.
“Which one is it?”
“I am not going to tell you, or you’ll be out at night sneaking around to find clues yourself.”
Kyojuro laughed, embarrassed. That was…probably what he would do if he knew.
“Be careful if you’re moving around at night, that’s all I ask,” Kocho told him. “Speaking of demons, I take it Akaza did not show up again? You never sent word.”
Kyojuro was an honest man. Lying to his brother to protect him once was one thing, but lying to a fellow Pillar was a different matter altogether. He didn’t have to settle on a choice in his internal debate though, Kocho taking his hesitation as an admission and fixing him with an angry stare.
“You promised to send for help if he ever showed up again!”
“Well it just kind of...happened? He’s not...he’s not dangerous -”
“An Upper Moon, not dangerous?” the Insect Pillar scoffed in a disbelieving voice.
“That’s not what I meant to say - It’s just...he wants a fight. A fair fight. He won’t try anything before I recover enough to give it to him.”
“This is playing with fire, Rengoku. You’re just a toy for him! Even if he’s willing to wait now, it will be months, if not years, before you get back to the level you were at. What tells you he won’t drop you the moment he finds another plaything? He’ll kill you in a heartbeat.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Kyojuro mused. “And yet he hasn’t shown any interest in getting information about the rest of the Pillars. If he just wanted a good fight you guys would be his best bet. Not me.”
Kocho sighed.
“Promise me you’ll be careful. We almost lost you once already. Kanroji will be in the area for a few days, so send her a crow if the need arises, alright? Demons experience time differently...and they are full of trickery. Don’t forget that.”
“I know. I promise. I’ll ask my crow to go to her if any kind of fight starts.”
This seemed to placate Kocho enough for her to drop the discussion for now - even if Kyojuro could feel he would be subject to a closer scrutiny when she got back from her own mission.
She went to get his medicine and he thanked her profusely, before leaving the Butterfly Estate. The guilt gnawed at him as he walked. He didn’t wish to make her worry. Yet somehow, he felt drawn to Akaza, the way something horrible could be both terrifying and fascinating. His encounters with demons were pretty much always the same: finding them in the middle of killing, a few sentences that would confirm how crazy they were, and then fighting. His first meeting with Akaza was not too far off either.
But now, with those regular meetings, he was seeing another side of those creatures. He learnt things. Akaza did not kill women. He did not remember who he was as a human. His presence could barely be felt when he was not readying for a fight. He was chatty but didn’t mind the silence. Little by little, the demon turned into something more than just a human eating monster.
Kyojuro didn’t know if that was a good thing. Yet, he couldn’t help being curious.
It made him think of Tanjiro Kamado and his sister, whose bond had not been severed even with her turning into a demon. How she chose not to kill, not to eat, but to protect instead, even at the cost of her own safety.
What would demons do, he wondered, if they were aware of such a choice?
“Welcome home, Kyojuro!” Senjuro greeted him when he arrived at the Rengoku Estate. “Did it go well?”
“Yes, it did! Kocho has given me her permission to start working out!”
“This is good to hear! Do you...do you still want to play with me?”
“Of course! I’ll train in the morning, and focus on breathing in the afternoon. We can still play together during that time, not only does it help with focusing my aim but I have also grown fond of the game. It was an excellent idea, Senjuro!”
Senjuro laughed happily as they went inside the house.
“I received a letter from Tanjiro this morning. He says training is getting pretty hard for him too! His two friends won’t stop complaining. He was relieved to hear you were doing fine.”
“You should invite him to come by, when he has some time. Father won’t mind, he doesn’t leave his room much anyway.”
“I will! Thank you, brother.”
“Are you still going to ask him to be your successor?” Senjuro asked him during their game this afternoon. Kyojuro had confided in him how he would like to teach the young demon slayer, how full of potential he was.
“Tanjiro? I would like to. Even if with the state I’m in, I’m probably not going to be the best teacher… By the way, was he able to find the records from the old Flame Pillars? I forgot to ask.”
Senjuro nodded.
“I found the books, but… They had been torn out and were unreadable… Do you think Father..? He stopped being a swordsman so suddenly… Could it be related?”
“I don’t know…” Kyojuro pondered over this. “How could a book make him lose faith in himself?”
Senjuro’s eyes went sad for a while. It was a look Kyojuro disliked to see on his brother’s face, one that showed up too frequently to his tastes lately. Yet in a way, he preferred to see it instead of a fake smile, the kind they sometimes wore around their father, pretending everything was fine.
“I think you should still ask Tanjiro,” Senjuro piped up at the end of their game as he crushed Kyojuro relentlessly. “Even if you can’t fight yourself right now, you can still teach him some moves. Don’t you agree?”
“That’s true! I’ll ask him the next time we meet. Care for a rematch? I think I am onto something. This time I’ll defeat you!”
“If you say so, brother,” Senjuro laughed, eyes shining in anticipation of the challenge.
“So, how does it look?”
“Well it’s not so bad if you keep your eye closed...but below… It looks like it hurts. Are you really fine?”
“It looks worse than it feels, I assure you. It’s not pretty, isn’t it! I’ll probably need to look for an eyepatch! What do you think?”
“If you do, it needs to have a flame pattern!”
“That it does!”
“You look awful,” Akaza greeted him that night.
Kyojuro was sitting on his veranda again, contemplating the sky. Keeping his left eye shut with the bandages had been easy, and he found himself struggling to do the same without it. An eyepatch would be the best idea in the future.
The demon walked up to him and stood close to the wood path, staring intently at his face.
“This is your handiwork,” Kyojuro reminded Akaza, shrugging off the sudden proximity. “If you don’t like it, you should think it through next time before attacking someone.”
“I don’t need to. They’ll either be dead or a demon by the end of the fight anyway.”
“I thought nobody ever agreed to that offer?”
“Until now, maybe. But in the future, who knows? Surely you can’t all be this stubborn.”
“If someone offered to turn you back into a human, would you accept?”
“This is not possible.”
“Humor me, would you?”
“Of course not,” Akaza scowled. “It would be illogical. Humans are inferior to demons on every level.”
“Don’t you miss the sun?”
“I can’t miss what I don’t remember. It’s just an annoyance, nothing more.”
Kyojuro couldn’t imagine a life without the sun. Its light, its warmth. Watching the colors painted on the sky when it rose and set. The vast expanse of blue and the soft clouds that would dot it on sunny days. The night had its appeal, quiet and shimmering with the stars and the moon, but ultimately it was always the same. Nights didn’t change colors depending on the weather. It was a unique state, unchanging. Demons were frozen like this, too, plucked from the circle of life. Doomed to be the same forever. Death was a scary thing to think about, but forever? In Kyojuro’s eyes, it was even worse. It must be a blessing, for demons to lose their memories, so they did not have to watch their loved ones die while they kept on living year after year. Every relative, every acquaintance, gone from the world while they still stood, stuck in time.
“Aren’t you lonely?”
Akaza crossed his arms and tilted his head.
“Fight me forever and get stronger together with me, you told me that night,” Kyojuro continued. “Now that I think about it, it’s...pretty sad really. What good is it to live forever if you have no one to share it with?”
Akaza did not react strongly to the personal question this time. He looked thoughtful, like this never crossed his mind before.
“Then become a demon, Kyojuro,” he said at last, “and I won’t be lonely anymore.”
“The human me doesn’t like you, what makes you think demon me would change his mind?” Kyojuro chuckled.
“Well, I like you.”
“Why?”
“Why don’t you?”
“I asked first.”
“Tell me, and I’ll tell you,” the demon smiled, standing his ground.
Kyojuro shook his head slightly at the immaturity he was showing, but accepted to answer first.
“That’s easy. You eat humans. You attack the weak when they can’t even protect themselves. You insult people even when complimenting them -I don’t know how you manage that, by the way. You’re at Kibutsuji’s boot. You’re full of yourself and you’re selfish.”
“Harsh,” Akaza said, looking otherwise unbothered. “Aren’t you at the boot of someone else yourself?”
“The Master may be the one at the head of the corps, but he is just a member like the rest of the demon slayers. His family has taken the initiative against demons, and we have followed. He has earned the respect we show him, unlike the Demon King who rules by fear. Are you even free to make your own choices?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
And wasn’t that true. What did Kibutsuji think of this, of his Upper Moon 3 having a friendly chat with an enemy? Surely he would rather have all demon slayers killed sooner rather than later. Akaza failed to kill him that first night and now he was biding his time. Maybe Kibutsuji was more lenient with his Upper Moons, sure of where their loyalties lay and of the power he had over them.
“Kyojuro?” Shinjuro’s voice cut through the night.
Kyojuro stood up quickly and grabbed Akaza’s arm, pushing the demon behind his back as he turned to face his father, who was rounding the corner of the wooden veranda. Akaza was slightly smaller than him but of a bigger build, so he hoped that the surrounding darkness and Shinjuro’s clearly inebriated state would be enough to keep him hidden.
“Father?” he called back. “What are you doing here at such a late time?”
The man stopped and leaned on the wall.
“Talking to yourself is a sign of madness, you know.”
Kyojuro laughed sheepishly. His heart was beating like mad in his chest, Akaza thankfully silent and still behind his back.
“I find talking aloud is a great way to sort out my thoughts.”
“Senjuro told me you were going back to training tomorrow. Here is my advice: don’t.”
Kyojuro managed to put a smile on his face and clung to it.
“Why do you say that?” he asked, knowing fully well he would not like the answer.
“Because it’s useless. You don’t have talent, Kyojuro. None of us Rengoku do. You can train as much as you want, but you will never amount to anything.”
It was not the first time he heard those words, or a variant of them. Still, he burned with shame with each sentence, that familiar feeling of not being enough never being enough suffocating him from the inside. A low growl came from behind him and he squeezed Akaza’s arm to make him stop. The noise cut abruptly and the demon answered by grabbing his hand in turn. Kyojuro didn’t know if it was supposed to be a silent threat should he apply any more pressure, or a soothing gesture.
“I am the Flame Pillar,” he declared loud and clear. “Even without talent, I swore to protect innocents, and that’s what I will do.”
“You’re delusional,” his father spat out. “The only thing you will achieve is dying. It was pure luck that allowed you to survive this time. It won’t happen again.”
Shinjuro peeled himself off the wall and took a swing of his bottle, before turning back the way he came.
“Goodnight, Father!” called Kyojuro. Please take better care of yourself, he wanted to say.
There was no answer.
Kyojuro released his grip on Akaza’s arm, shoulders sagging as his smile fell. He did not dare to look the demon in the eye as he went back to his former sitting position.
“Kyojuro…” Akaza started before the demon slayer cut him short.
“Please, don’t… I’m not in the mood to hear what you’re going to say right now.”
“So you’re just going to let that bastard walk all over you?”
“Don’t insult my father,” he sighed. “He’s just… He’s worried.”
“What a charming way to show it. I should have his head for this.”
“Don’t you dare touch my father,” Kyojuro growled as he finally met the demon’s stare. “You have no right to be angry for me.”
“Then get angry for yourself,” Akaza bit back, snarling. “Because he’s wrong.”
Deep down, Kyojuro knew the demon was right. He was the Flame Pillar, and his actions spoke enough of his strength in battle. He had earned this title through blood, sweat and tears, talent or no talent. He could not compare to the likes of Tokito, who was an actual prodigy, but this didn’t matter. As long as he could still protect the innocents, he was good enough. But his father’s words always found a way to his insecurities, making him feel small and lacking.
And yet…
“But is he, though?” he wondered aloud. “If the sun did not rise when it did, if you still had a few hours of night at that time… Wouldn’t you have killed me? Be honest with me, Akaza.”
The demon frowned, the line of his mouth turning downward.
“I would have. I would have ripped a hole through your stomach. I would have torn off an arm or a leg. I would have watched the light fade away from your eyes, and I would have hated every second of it. I would still be regretting it today, tomorrow, in a month or a year.”
The demon's unblinking stare was piercing as he held Kyojuro’s gaze.
“You asked me why I like you. Here’s why: you may not see it yourself, but your fighting spirit is sharper than your blade. Your presence in battle would make Lower Moons shake and cower. You have technique and finesse. You’re confident. You’re fearless. You don’t back down and you live your life the way you decided. You’re a bright flame, Kyojuro, one I can’t help but want to get close to.”
Kyojuro closed his eye, tightly, grasping his head. He was confused and he was lost, and the demon wasn’t making any sense. Akaza would kill him in a heartbeat and yet praised him at the same time. He would kill him and grieve in his own, strange way, but never stopped to consider why that was the only option.
“You’ll only burn yourself, that way.”
“It’s too late already,” Akaza replied in a quiet whisper, like a secret not meant to be shared.
Kyojuro lifted up his head as the demon merged with the shadows.
“Pick up your sword,” the Upper Moon called from the darkness. “Let’s fight again.”
Morning came and chased the last remnants of his father’s words. Kyojuro set out to the garden part where he had trained for years, a smile on his face and confidence in his steps as he strode outside the house.
It was early still and the birds were his only companions, chirping happily with the rising sun.
He went through his breathing exercises before moving on to stretches, testing out how his body reacted. The drills his father had taught him and the ones he had learnt on his own were coming back to him as easily as breathing, and he took the time with each form. He had brought a wooden katana with him, but as Kocho warned him it proved to be too stressful yet, so he discarded it on the side.
Pain sometimes flared in his middle, bright and intense, breaking his concentration and making him fumble through the set.
He was no stranger to pain, but fighting with injuries during a fight where he could not afford to be distracted was proving to be a different kind than the constant one he felt during his recovery. Still, it was only temporary. He just needed to be patient - even if patience had never been his strongest point.
Senjuro joined him with water and fruits and Kyojuro welcomed the break.
His brother kept hovering nearby and checked on him every now and then. Kyojuro could feel his worried glances as he strained through a form or let out a grunt of pain, but did not comment on it. Senjuro was no stranger to the harsh reality of training himself, but Kyojuro hated that his worries would grow instead of being led to rest, watching him training.
Offhandedly, the Flame Pillar wondered if he would be able to land one single blow on Akaza if the demon suddenly decided to start a fight that night. If he fought like he had that first time...probably not. Kyojuro knew he would not be magically cured as soon as he started to train again, but he could now clearly see how deep the difference of strength was with his previous state.
Still, he was a demon slayer.
A Pillar.
He would soldier on, day after day.
The evening came and Kyojuro kept his breathing ritual, enjoying the rustle of leaves and the silence of the night. He felt like he had barely done any work that day and yet his muscles ached with exhaustion. Sleep sounded very welcoming.
He exhaled deeply for the last time and opened his eyes. There was no sign of Akaza. The thought troubled him. The demon had become a constant in his life, an odd one for sure, but Kyojuro had come to find their small meetings enjoyable. Akaza was a link to the demon slayer world, a world he was removed from at the moment. He was a reminder. The goal at the end of this journey of self recovery.
With one last look at the trees outside the estate’s property, Kyojuro stood up and returned to his room. He had just begun sliding the door back when the soft crunching of gravel echoed.
“I was starting to think you would not show up today.”
“Would you have missed me?”
Kyojuro turned back to face the demon.
“No,” he lied.
Akaza smiled in response.
“How was training?”
“Slow. Draining.”
“You and I both know the easiest way to get over that.”
“No.”
“Come on, Kyojuro… What would be so bad about it?”
“What wouldn’t? I’ll tell you a million times: I will not become a demon.”
Akaza extended a hand towards him.
“Then fight me,” he asked.
Kyojuro shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
There was something in that word, something shining in the demon’s eyes, that drew a fond smile on his face.
“Maybe.”
He slid his door shut. He listened to Akaza jumping away before falling into bed, sleep claiming him immediately.
The next few days passed in a similar fashion.
Senjuro kept sending him worried glances. His father did not spare a look in his direction. His hands yearned to hold a sword. Akaza now kept pestering him with two questions whose answers were not likely to change anytime soon.
At the end of the first week since he took up training again, Kyojuro decided to include basic sword forms to his list of exercises. But he couldn’t bear the thought of worrying Senjuro more nor the shame of having difficulty, maybe even failing, such basic forms in the light of the day. He would keep his training as it was, he decided, and add this new set to his evening, far from prying eyes.
Mindful of the noise he would make, he went to the far end of the estate, where trees made everything dark in their shadows. He set up a few bamboo training puppets and grabbed his wooden sword. The double handed stance strained his body, but it was bearable. He kept slashing at the air as the moon above moved in the sky, all controlled breathing and precise movements.
“There you are,” Akaza’s voice rang out above him.
Kyojuro stopped and wiped his forehead with his hand. The demon was sitting on a branch in the tallest tree. Annoyance was written all over his face. Kyojuro wondered if he had been looking for him all over the estate.
He went back to his forms, conscious of Akaza’s eyes now following his every movement.
When he finished the last one and put down the training sword, Akaza dropped to the ground.
“Fight me,” he asked, expectant.
Kyojuro chuckled. Somehow, knowing Akaza would still bug him for a fight after seeing him barely get basic sword forms right was a relief.
“Not yet,” he answered.
Soon, he hoped.
It was the middle of the next day when Kyojuro suddenly took notice that Akaza had not asked for him to turn into a demon.
Extending his schedule into the night made him more tired, so he started sleeping in a bit more. Senjuro came knocking twice in the morning, surprised by his lateness and worried it had something to do with sickness. Kyojuro reassured him that everything was fine, so his brother ended up accepting his new waking time. It was becoming easier to go through stretches and to run around without gasping in pain after a short time. The sword felt better in his hands too, now, and his strikes were getting some strength back. Akaza had found a favorite spot in the high tree, where the foliage kept him hidden but allowed him to look all he wanted. Not knowing if the demon was there or not kept Kyojuro’s senses fully awake until the end of his session, where Akaza would jump at the bottom of the tree without fail. Sometimes Kyojuro got a glimpse of his body through the leaves, strokes of white and yellow, and couldn’t help but think of a predator watching its prey, waiting for the best moment to pounce.
A few days later, his morning training session was interrupted by a guest.
“Kyojuro !” Senjuro called him enthusiastically, his head popping out of the corner of the house in a comic way. “Tanjiro has come to visit!”
Kyojuro perked up and stopped his exercise. He grabbed a towel and dabbed at his forehead as he followed his brother to the front of the estate, where Tanjiro was waiting. They both greeted each other with big smiles, happy to see they were both doing well.
They sat next to where Kyojuro trained, Senjuro giving them some privacy to talk.
“You haven’t brought your sister?” Kyojuro asked when he took notice of the missing wooden box.
“No, she’s sleeping at the Butterfly Estate. She has been since we went back from the train mission, and she’ll probably sleep for a few weeks more. I trust the people there to take care of her.”
“I see… It must be lonely.”
“I miss her, but I have everyone else, so it’s alright. Training is keeping me quite occupied anyway!” he laughed. “Senjuro told me you have started to train too?”
“Yes! My injuries have been getting better. I am still keeping to basic forms but it is a relief to be doing something again!”
“That’s great to hear,” Tanjiro nodded. He gestured towards his own left eye. “How is...that going?”
Kyojuro touched his own gingerly, feeling the fabric of the eyepatch he now wore.
“I’m still not completely acclimated, but it is not that much of a bother. With my field of view halved, I need to move my head more though. But it won’t stop me!”
They fell silent for a while, enjoying the sounds of nature around them.
“Senjuro told me about the books. I’m sorry it couldn’t be of any help. Those were precious legacies from the previous Flame Pillars so...I could never have imagined they would end up in that state,” Kyojuro apologized. “But my offer still stands, you know! To train you.”
“Thank you!” Tanjiro immediately answered. “Thank you, really… But… You were right, when you said wielders of black blades had trouble choosing a breath style to master. I’ve learnt Water Breathing, and I got my Dance of the Fire God...I don’t know if adding Flame Breathing on top of that would be a good idea…”
“I understand. I could still teach you a few moves if you were to change your mind. You never know, maybe it would help you with your own style! Kanroji created her Love Breathing after she learnt Flame Breathing!”
“The Love Pillar? She was your student?”
“She was! I was not a Pillar yet myself, so really we trained together more than anything, but I taught her everything I knew.”
“That’s incredible!”
“Yes, she is incredible. You should see her in action, her skill with her blade is magnificent!”
Senjuro came to bring some tea with a few treats, sitting on the other side of Tanjiro.
“Will you stay for lunch, Tanjiro?” he asked the young slayer, a hopeful note in his voice.
“Oh, I…”
“You should!” Kyojuro exclaimed. “Senjuro is a great cook!”
His brother blushed and dipped his head, happy but embarrassed by the praise in front of someone else. His skills weren’t recognized outside the house, after all, something Kyojuro felt was quite a loss considering how good he was. Senjuro had always been on the shyer side.
“Of course,” Tanjiro smiled brightly. “I’d be happy to.”
Senjuro lit up at the words and got to his feet, tea forgotten, wanting to see what he could do with the ingredients they had in stock.
“I wanted to apologize,” Kyojuro said as his brother went back inside the house. “About my behaviour the first time we met.”
He had looked down on the boy with a cold detachment that day. He had been ready to sacrifice him to make him pay for his sins - when there had been none. He now felt only shame upon reliving those memories.
“Thank you, but...I don’t think you need to. I would probably have done the same if I had been in your place.”
Kyojuro had no doubt he would not have, though. Tanjiro was compassionate through and through, he would have extended a hand to help - he would have wanted to understand.
“You’ve all had painful encounters with demons before, and here I was travelling with one. I don’t blame you for reacting like you did, because you never imagined a demon like Nezuko could exist.”
“Yes...demons brought pain and misery to most of us, on different scales.”
“You had only seen them as enemies to be defeated. Nezuko has always been my sister, demon or human. I think I’m feeling more sympathetic towards them because of that, for me they’re still… there is still a human, somewhere, inside. It won’t stop my blade, but I have felt their grief.”
“You empathize with them.”
“I do. I know Tomioka does not approve but… I can’t help it. Some were probably awful people as humans too, but others… It’s like they’re trying to make up for something they lost, or could never achieve, even if they can’t remember why. They go at it in the wrong ways but it almost feels...desperate. It must have been something important in their human lives.”
That was a train of thoughts Kyojuro was starting to become familiar with, ever since he started exchanging words with Akaza instead of blows.
Tanjiro paused and scratched his head in a bashful way.
“Ah, sorry! You probably don’t really care about that. It’s not something I get to talk to with others...I got a bit carried away.”
“No, that was enlightening. Like you said, I had never encountered a demon outside of a fight before. Now… I’m thinking about it more. I’ve learnt there is more to them than just...bloodthirsty monsters.”
They talked some more until Senjuro called for them for lunch, where they had a lively meal full of silly training stories. Then it was time for Tanjiro to leave, and the two brothers saw him off at the gate of the estate.
“Come back whenever you want!” Kyojuro told him. “You will always be welcome here! Your friends too, if they want to visit.”
“Thank you! We’re starting to get back on missions so it’ll probably be a while before I can, but it’ll be my pleasure. I’ll bring them next time!”
He waved them goodbye and started the trip back to the Butterfly Mansion, and they watched him grow smaller and smaller on the horizon.
That night, Kyojuro brought his nichirin sword with him. Meeting with Tanjiro had reminded him he had a duty to the people out there and he could not hide behind injuries forever, especially not with the young ones being sent out to the front lines again. Even if he was not strong enough to fight the likes of Upper Moons yet, he could still protect people and improve at the same time.
He put his sword against the trunk of one of the trees and went to fetch the training one. He went through the training forms as usual, his mind clear and his breathing steady, at the same pace he always did.
Once he was satisfied, he swapped the training sword for his real one, light in his hands. He put the sheath through his belt and revelled in the familiar weight.
He went to stand in the middle of the space he had claimed for his training grounds, and mentally flipped through all his Flame Breathing techniques. He settled on the last demanding one.
Breathing deeply, Kyojuro dropped into the correct stance and grasped his sword’s handle with a steady hand.
He closed his eye and emptied his mind of anything else. Breathe in, breathe out.
He opened his eye, feeling the power surge through him. His grip tightened.
Flame Breathing, Second Form: Rising Scorching Sun!
His blade arched upwards in a perfect circular motion, fire burning in its wake. Pain blossomed in Kyojuro’s middle with an intensity matching the flames, like he was suddenly shot by a lightning strike. His sword fell flat on the ground as he dropped to his knees, clenching his abdomen as he gasped for breath.
Everything around him felt dark, and he startled badly as a hand came into contact with the skin of his neck, the cold touch a stark contrast to how hot he was running.
“Shh,” soothed a familiar voice. “Breathe, Kyojuro. That’s it. Breathe.”
A second hand was placed on the middle of his shoulders, the firm pressure grounding. Kyojuro focused on it, trying to match his breathing pattern to the words, and after a while the dark receded.
“I thought...you hated weak people,” he managed to ask in-between sharp breaths.
“I do,” the demon answered. “Being sick or healing is not being weak.”
Kyojuro thought about Tanjiro, now ready to go on missions, remembered him as he was lying bleeding on the ground and how Akaza had targeted him first.
“You tried to kill that wounded demon slayer back at the train because he was...because he was hurt and unable to fight.”
“I tried to kill him because his level was laughable. He had barely managed to defeat that Lower Moon. Why would I care if he was injured? I knew he was going to be annoying if I were to fight you. Killing him was the easiest option.”
And I was right, was left unsaid.
Kyojuro managed to push himself upright on his knees and Akaza’s hands fell away. He looked sideways at the demon.
“Everyone starts out weak. Me. You. Every slayer has potential, so much more than what you’re seeing. You will never find strong people if you kill the sprouts before they have bloomed into maturity. You’re short-sighted, Akaza. Demons are supposed to have all the time in the world, don’t they? So why do you rush things out?”
This took the demon aback.
“I don’t have time to fret over every demon slayer I encounter, just to see if they have potential,” he scoffed.
Kyojuro fixed him with a piercing gaze, a new fire burning inside him, drowning even the pain.
“Then what are you doing here?”
“This is different. You are different, Kyojuro. I know your worth.”
Kyojuro bristled at that.
“You have no idea what a human life is worth.”
He dropped his head and sighed, exhaustion visible in the line of his shoulders.
“I told you already. You and I have very different values. Go away, Akaza. Leave me alone. I don’t care what you’re looking for here, but you won’t find it.”
The dismissal echoed into the cold of the night, the words as sharp as the sword the Flame Pillar wielded. Akaza already knew intimately how deep words could cut, in a way that made his regenerative power useless and left him with nothing but hatred for himself.
Pathetic, Akaza, Muzan’s voice hissed in his head.
Worthless. Failure. Disappointment.
Get out of my sight.
The demon clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood. He withdrew, silent, Kyojuro’s eye following him until he disappeared over the fence and into the dark of the night.
Kyojuro stayed kneeling in the dirt for a long time after his departure, angry at Akaza, angry at himself.