Chapter Text
Rengoku Kyojuro was embarrassed at how long it took him to find the junior Demon Slayers. The cave system was large and twisting, but he had trusted his ability to sense the demons perhaps a bit too much and used it to navigate rather than the common sense that one needed to exhibit in order to traverse caverns. He ran, sword in hand, and kept his eyes wide open. It was so dark that he could hardly see the ground in front of him, but he could hear the terrified screams echoing off the stone walls from up ahead. He forced his muscles to carry him faster, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.
One last turn and the Flame Hashira slid to a halt, sending small, sharp pebbles skittering across the floor. Two low-ranked Demon Slayers huddled against a wall, their swords nowhere in sight. Above them stood a malformed demon, abnormally long arms reaching for the juvenile slayers’ legs. With a deep breath in, Kyojuro launched himself forward, spinning in the air to land in front of the demon, sword up before him as though his body and posture were shields for the children behind him.
The demon scowled at him, its reflective eyes winking at him in the darkness. It reached out for its human prey again, only to stare at its own arms in confusion. They both lay beside it on the ground, cleanly severed just above the elbow. Kyojuro held his sword arm steady, waiting. The demon’s head rolled from its shoulders and onto the ground, the disintegration beginning. With a satisfied nod, the Hashira sheathed his blade and turned to the Demon Slayers behind him.
“Can you stand?” he asked them, kneeling down to their level. One of their legs was bent at an unnatural angle, and the girl it belonged to had her faced scrunched in pain. The other shook his head, eyes still wide with fear despite the threat being eliminated.
“I see,” Kyojuro said, and he leaned forward to see what he could do with the girl’s broken limb. It was a long walk out of here, so if he could just get it splinted, he could simply carry her and the boy without fear of the injury worsening.
Suddenly, the cave shook. Dust flew in every direction with the impact of something large landing. Kyojuro cast a suspicious, wide-eyed gaze over his shoulder and caught sight of a kneeling demon in the center of the cave, its yellow eyes gleaming in the low light. Quickly, Kyojuro shot up and into a defensive position, sensing waves of pure malice radiating from the new demon. His sword hissed as it was unsheathed, and once again his feet slid on the stone floor, taking a defensive stance.
The demon slowly stood up, a grin painting its face with horrifying glee. It took a few steps forward, closer to Kyojuro but not quite in reach of the katana. The darkness didn’t give Kyojuro much of an idea of what the demon looked like. Glowing yellow eyes, pale greyish skin, and dark symmetrical stripes all over. It seemed far more humanoid that the demon he’d killed only moments earlier.
“Such a strong fighting spirit!” the demon exclaimed, the grin widening to reveal wickedly sharp fangs. “You couldn’t be a Hashira, could you?”
Kyojuro frowned. He didn’t understand why this demon was speaking so much, or why it was standing so close and not attacking, but he supposed as long as it wasn’t harming the children or himself, he would humor it. “I am,” he said finally, voice steely. “The Flame Hashira.”
The demon nodded its head, eyes and grin still wide. “The Flame Hashira,” it said happily. “In all my years I must admit I’ve never killed one of you before. Tell me your name.”
That really confused Kyojuro. So much aggression behind those words and yet still it made no move to attack him. He strengthened his resolve, keeping his sword raised and his breathing regulated. “Rengoku Kyojuro,” he said.
“Kyojuro,” the demon said, drawing out the vowel sounds in an almost sensual manner. It shifted forward just a bit, and Kyojuro saw with alarm that it had the kanji for Upper Moon Three seared into its irises. “That was quite the technique you used to take down that other demon earlier. Very fast.”
“Thank you!” Kyojuro said. An Upper Moon? Down here? His mind raced for a conclusion. The mission these two junior Slayers had been given was of little importance, even by his generous standards. Surely their actions didn’t warrant this level of retaliation! He kept his head high and didn’t take his eyes off the demon, feeling the air between them pulse with danger.
“You’re clearly so much more powerful than those two behind you, but you still stand in front like you want to shield them. Can’t you see that they aren’t worth losing your life over? They’re weak.” The demon looked down its nose at the injured children, its eyes slowly trailing back up Kyojuro’s body to stare into his face.
The ground shook again, and a few small stones fell from the ceiling. Kyojuro deflected one off his sword and the demon sidestepped delicately to avoid a particularly sharp one. The injured Demon Slayers held on to one another, frightened and silent, clearly understanding the direness of the situation before them.
“I disagree! They are quite strong to have held out as long as they did before I got here, especially if there was something like you lurking around. I commend their skills.” Kyojuro felt a small smile creep across his face, a burst of pride lacing his words.
The demon stole a glance at the ceiling, one of its brows raised curiously. It took a step sideways and backwards, the devilish grin returning full-force as it gazed into Kyojuro’s eyes. “Their skills are nothing compared to you.”
“At the moment, that is almost true. But you know nothing of my skills. You have seen me slay one demon. That is not much cause for so much praise.” Kyojuro glanced backwards at the children, worry invading his thoughts. He might not be able to protect them from both the demon and the falling rocks. He prayed that another downfall would not come.
“Then why don’t you show me, Kyojuro?” The demon looked at him with its eyes half-lidded, gazing along the edge of his sword and the ends of his hair and the tips of his haori. It made Kyojuro feel cold and uncomfortable, like a piece of meat that the demon couldn’t wait to devour. “Fight me.”
“If violence is what you seek,” Kyojuro began, “then just know that I will do everything I can to defend the innocent.”
With a laugh, the demon widened its stance, a strange, glowing blue pattern springing to life underneath its feet. Then, almost too quickly for him to follow, it surged forward with fists blazing a fiery blue. Kyojuro brought his sword up to block the blows, the hard metal vibrating from the impact. The demon simply pressed on, seemingly uncaring of the cuts the sun-touched blade left upon its skin. They healed over instantly, and Kyojuro felt a sense of dread weigh down the upbeat narrative in his mind.
“That’s a nice sword you got there!” the demon exclaimed, eyes alight with excitement. It seemed to be enjoying this fight far too much, and it was all the Flame Pillar could do to block the devastating punches thrown his way. “I wonder, would you be able to hold me off without it?”
Kyojuro grit his teeth, swiping at the demon in an arc of flames. The attack grazed off a few of the demon’s fingers, but it was too quick to catch anything more. The fingers sprouted back into existence from the demon’s knuckles.
“I would not, and you know it!” the Hashira said, twisting to the side to avoid another falling rock. “But I wonder the same about your demonic powers and your regeneration. Certainly, without those the odds would be evenly matched.”
Another laugh from the demon. “I doubt you’d be my match even if I was human,” it said darkly, its fist connecting with Kyojuro’s shoulder with a sound like bones crunching. His sword lowered a fraction as he allowed himself a moment to feel the pain, then he leapt back into offensive action.
“Perhaps not!” Kyojuro said. His sword danced through the air, leaving a trail of flames in its wake. The demon watched it with wide, adoring eyes, admiring the light that the Hashira’s battle technique put out. “But I would much prefer it if you were human!” He sliced the offending arm off a bit above the wrist, launching himself backwards to reassume his defense.
“Humans are weak,” the demon said, and it regenerated the arm while maintaining intense eye contact with Kyojuro. Its body was a whirlwind of deadly movement, every punch or kick packed with enough force to shatter the stone floor or walls when the blows didn’t connect. Kyojuro brought his sword up to strike and parry with equal speed, the children always in the corner of his eye.
“And yet you used to be one,” Kyojuro said, his sword braced in front of him. The demon grabbed the blade and yanked it backwards, the warm metal slicing through its fingers and sending blood flowing down its length. Kyojuro stared at him, wide-eyed in confusion.
“I became better ,” the demon said smugly, its face far too close to the Hashira’s for comfort. “So could you. Become a demon, Kyojuro.”
Kyojuro kicked the demon backwards and ripped the sword from its grasp. “I will never become a demon. My duty is to protect the weak, not devour them.”
“But what of the strength you hold? You would let it go to waste?” The demon launched itself into the air and sent strange blows raining down at Kyojuro, like ocean waves crashing down to shatter bones and crush skulls. He brought his sword up and breathed a defensive technique just in time, but the cave shook again and the walls were further damaged by the attacks that went astray.
“The fact that my strength will eventually fade is what causes me to cherish it,” Kyojuro said simply. The demon scoffed.
More blows traded back and forth. More flaming defenses and immediately regenerated limbs. The demon said nothing else of the absurd offer, instead wrecking both the edge of Kyojuro’s blade and their cavernous surroundings. The Flame Hashira stood his ground between the demon and the injured children, deftly dodging as more rocks fell from the ceiling. Kyojuro stole a glance upwards and saw large cracks forming in the ceiling. A chunk of it fell away and landed squarely on the demon.
Shocked, Kyojuro watched to see if the debris had spelled the demon’s demise, but then there was a flash of blue light and the glowing eyes sought his own. The demon stood, dusty but alive and grinning.
Before they could launch back into their fight, however, more of the rocks fell down. Kyojuro darted towards the children to protect them from the rubble, but it was too dusty and the distance was too far and suddenly the world went dark.
—————————
Kyojuro blinked awake to a pair of yellow eyes. He startled, reaching for his sword and finding nothing. Upper Moon Three was bent over him, eyes wide and face comically configured in some strange imitation of worry.
“Looking for this?” The demon asked, holding up his sword by the hilt. Kyojuro’s face hardened and he prepared himself for another fight, but the demon simply handed it to him without a word. Kyojuro took it cautiously, eyes never leaving the kanji-emblazoned ones.
Sensing no apparent aggression from the demon, Kyojuro sat up carefully. His head pounded, and upon further inspection he realized that half of his hair was wet with blood. He must’ve been hit by a falling rock. With a grimace, he glanced around the room.
The passageway leading out was gone. The cave appeared considerably smaller, with large piles of jagged rock strewn about. With a cold horror, Kyojuro realized he could only see one of the other Demon Slayer’s bodies, the head crushed. Underneath a pile of rock, the girl’s ruined leg peeked out. Realizing he hadn’t been able to save them, the Flame Hashira placed a hand over his mouth.
“All of that fighting to protect them, wasted,” the demon said, taking a step closer to Kyojuro. “And now you can’t even leave, either. That was the only way out.”
Kyojuro took a deep, steadying breath. If he perished now, it would be deserved, but he didn’t imagine that dying here would honor the memories of those two children. He fought to stay calm.
“That may be true, Upper Moon Three, but you forget that you are also unable to leave!” Kyojuro stood up, using his sword sheathe as a prop. He glared at the demon, readying himself for a violent outburst.
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” the demon said. “Any moment now my master will free me from this place, and you’ll be free to rot down here alone.”
“Rotting alone is preferable to being trapped in a cave with you!” Kyojuro said, wary.
“Well, with or without me, you’re still trapped, Kyojuro,” the demon whispered, smirking.
“Yes. I will likely die down here, but at least I did not allow you to be the thing that killed those children.” Kyojuro examined the heavy debris in front of the exit and realized quickly that Upper Three had not been lying. He would not escape this.
“There is a way that both of us could walk out of this alive,” Upper Three said, its eyes still glowing eerily in the darkness of the cave. “If you become a demon, my master will save you, too.”
Kyojuro gave the demon a long look, frowning. “No,” he said simply. “You are more hopeless than I thought if you assume I would prioritize my own life over so many others. I would rather die here than become a demon.”
Upper Three laughed, the sound echoing harshly across the cave. “I could force you,” it said. “I could turn you right now, with no regard for how you feel about it.”
“You could. But it would not be of my own free will. And I would put up quite a fight.”
“I’ve no doubt about that,” the demon said.
It was silent for a long time. The demon made no move to attack Kyojuro, so he focused his attention on finding some escape route. Even with all of his senses reaching out desperately, he found no clear exit. He could attempt to move the rubble, but it would take days for him to get it clear and he would likely run out of energy long before then.
Giving up, Kyojuro went and cleaned up the exposed Demon Slayer, folding the boy’s hands over his chest, then covered him with stones in his best imitation of a burial. He said a quick prayer for both of them, then sat there in quiet contemplation.
“Kyojuro,” the demon said, breaking the silence. It had been quite a while since they’d last spoken, and despite all the claims of being saved, the demon still sat exactly where it had been before.
“Yes?”
A few pebbles scattered as the demon got up and walked closer to where the Hashira sat. Kyojuro watched it carefully, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
“Fight me,” it said.
“No,” Kyojuro said. “I wish to preserve my energy in case I get an idea on how to escape this place.”
The demon growled unhappily. “What if I attack you?”
“Then I will defend myself,” he said.
“Even if you do get an idea, you won’t get out.”
Kyojuro smiled. “Maybe not. But at least I will have died trying.”
He resumed his meditation, thinking back to stories he’d read. Nothing provided a solution to this, however, and he resigned himself to his fate. The demon did not speak. Kyojuro did not speak, and the scent of piss and blood coming from the two bodies sickened the Hashira.
At last, the silence became too much to bear. Kyojuro cleared his throat, and the demon perked up, watching him.
“Upper Three,” he said.
“Yeah?” the demon replied excitedly.
“Why are you still here? I thought your master was going to save you.” Kyojuro didn’t see what purpose Muzan Kibutsuji would have for leaving one of his Upper Ranks in a dark cave. Unless it was to ensure his own demise, it seemed pointless.
The demon went silent, staring at Kyojuro. Finally, it sighed. “I’ve probably done something wrong again,” it said simply.
“This is the punishment you get? Your master truly is evil.” Kyojuro shook his head in disapproval.
“Like yours is much better. Sending children into battles they can’t hope to win. That is detestable.” The demon didn’t look remotely amused anymore.
Kyojuro gives him a deep, considering look. “Do not preach to me of morals when your kind are the ones who slaughter those children.”
“Well, if we’re being fair,” Upper Three began, raising one pink eyebrow. “Your kind do nothing but hinder our survival. We can only eat one thing, and you all act like we’re monsters for wanting to be alive.”
The Flame Hashira considered this for a long moment, rethinking all of the ideals he’d formed based on his parent’s values. “I have never thought of it in that way,” he said, tilting his head to one side with a pensive expression. “What is your name, Upper Three?”
The demon’s lips split into a grin, leaning forward. “Akaza,” he said.
“Akaza,” Kyojuro repeated.
“Yeah?”
“You are the first demon I have ever had a conversation with,” the Hashira said simply. It was a fact, no emotions bled into the words.
“I’ll be the last, you know,” Akaza said, his grin fading again.
Kyojuro stretched his arms and then placed them in a fold across his chest. “I am well aware.”
“I could change that,” the demon said.
“I will not allow it.”
“You’re a fool,” Akaza spat. “You’re going to die in this stupid cave without even raising your sword against me again? Someone like you deserves to die in battle , with honor !”
Kyojuro hummed and shook his head. “There is no honor in needless violence.”
“It isn’t needless,” Akaza insisted, crossing his own arms indignantly. “Every fight you win makes you stronger.”
“Only if you are fighting for a cause that is worth getting stronger over,” Kyojuro said. “You can simply fight for the idea of getting stronger, but if it is only for yourself that you fight then you can never be truly satisfied.”
Akaza tilted his head to the side, a disdainful expression on his face. “What do you fight for?” he asked, the raised eyebrow lowering slightly. Kyojuro thought that the demon’s eyes looked quite like the sun glowing in the sky.
“I fight for those who cannot,” the Hashira informed him. “I fight to rid the world of evil so that mothers can put their children to bed and not worry about the nightmares they have becoming reality. I fight so that fathers can go off to work knowing that their families will still be there upon their return.”
“How very noble,” Akaza said thoughtfully, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile. “But they should be able to fight for themselves. They’re weak, and they don’t deserve your attention.”
“I disagree! It is because they are weak that they demand my attention, and it is my duty to see them protected.” Kyojuro tapped the sword lying in front of him. “As long as there is air in my lungs, I will fight for those who need me.”
Akaza fell silent again, watching Kyojuro like he was prey. A cold sensation began to spread throughout Kyojuro’s limbs, and he quickly realized he was uneasy. The demon was trapped down here with him, and even considering his powers of regeneration, it was increasingly likely that Kyojuro would die first. Would Muzan take Akaza away from this cave, or would he leave the demon to starve and suffocate? Kyojuro didn’t know if either of those were things that could kill demons, perhaps that was the reason for the dalliance.
A ringing started in the Flame Pillar’s ears, dull at first but gradually taking over his senses. Kyojuro squeezed his eyes closed, feeling the wound on his head pulse to the rhythm of his heartbeat. His mind went blank.
—————————
He awoke with his head in Akaza’s lap, the demon staring down at him with a blank but vaguely surprised expression. The Hashira jerked in alarm, attempting to roll away but finding his limbs strangely delayed and lethargic.
“Kyojuro!” Akaza exclaimed, holding him still. “I worried you wouldn’t wake up.”
Kyojuro glared at the demon, then sighed in resignation. Closing his eyes, he sent a silent apology up to whatever gods or ghosts might be looking on. The demon shook him, calling out his name with growing desperation. Exasperated, the Hashira opened his eyes.
“What reason do you have for your worry?” he demanded, frowning. This must be some odd hallucination brought on by his apparent blood loss. “I am your enemy.”
Akaza shook his head. “I don’t want you to die like this,” he said quietly.
“You have no say in the way I live or die,” Kyojuro said. “I only wish this had taken place on the surface. Then at least my crow could have carried the news of my passing to my family and friends.”
“You aren’t going to die here,” Akaza repeated, his brows set firm in determination. “I need to fight you again.”
Kyojuro pushed himself up and away from the demon, groping around for his sword. The moment his fingers grazed the hilt, he had the sword out in front of him, assuming his defensive stance again. “If it’s a fight you want, I will give it to you. I cannot allow you to leave this cave and continue killing humans. It is my duty as a Hashira to bring you down. Forgive my lapse of judgment.”
Akaza leapt to his feet. “You can’t possibly beat me in that condition,” he whined. “You only want to fight now because you don’t want to die from your injuries. You want me to kill you.”
Kyojuro said nothing.
“I won’t do it,” Akaza said.
“Why not?” Kyojuro demanded, confused.
“Because there’s no honor in winning a fight if the odds aren’t fair,” Akaza explained, crossing his arms.
“You told me I deserved to die in battle. Give that to me.”
“No, you aren’t going to die here, and I certainly won’t be the one who kills you.” The demon shook his head.
“Your master demands that you kill Hashira, just as mine demands that I kill Upper Ranks. Why won’t you do it?” Kyojuro had never met such a demon. However twisted they seemed to himself, Akaza clearly had something of a set of morals. It must’ve been the last traces of his humanity clinging to life. The thought was tragic, and even in his pain and frustration, Kyojuro found himself feeling remorseful that no one had been around to save Akaza from demonhood.
“Why didn’t you fight me after you woke up the first time?” Akaza countered.
“I was curious,” Kyojuro explained, growing impatient. He could feel blood begin to trickle down his neck again.
“So am I,” Akaza said. “I haven’t ever spoken with a Hashira to the extent I have with you. I want to learn more about you. I want to spar with you. And maybe I’ll even convince you to become a demon.”
“I will never become a demon,” Kyojuro said. “And I will never leave this cavern.”
Akaza shook his head, turning to the blocked escape passage. His fists lit up with the dangerous pulsing energy from their fight, and he struck the rocks again and again. The debris splintered as his fists struck the stone, and blood splattered with each blow’s impact. The rocks shattered and rolled away, but it only revealed more obstructions. Kyojuro lowered his sword, slowly realizing the motive behind the demon’s actions. Each time he punched the stone, his knuckles would tear open only to heal over the moment the stone and his skin broke contact.
“Won’t you be punished for this?” Kyojuro questioned, marveling at the inhuman strength.
“Without a doubt,” Akaza said, and he continued his assault of the rocks until sweat lined his forehead and his knuckles no longer healed over.
Kyojuro had sat down on the stone floor, helpless to assist the demon in their escape. He glanced up when the sound of crumbling rock ceased. Akaza was on his knees, breathing heavily. The Hashira could see the white of the demon’s bones underneath the ruined flesh of his hands and he winced. Akaza didn’t see to be healing, and Kyojuro briefly considered exactly how much energy the demon had already consumed.
Slowly, the demon turned his exhausted gaze on the Hashira, something desperate alight in his eyes.
“Akaza?” he called cautiously, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword.
“I need—“ the demon hissed in pain, breaking their eye contact to glare at his own hands. “I can’t heal. I need food.”
Kyojuro stood there, frozen, ready to whip his sword back out in a moment’s notice.
“You put up an excellent fight earlier,” Akaza breathed, leaning backwards against the wall. “Regenerating that many limbs and attacking you with such force really took a toll on me.”
Still the Hashira remained silent. He honestly had no idea how one was even meant to respond in this situation. He kept his cautious expression trained on the demon.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Akaza pleaded, offering Kyojuro a smile. “I tried to get us out. I’m sorry it wasn’t good enough.”
Something in the demon’s expression relaxed Kyojuro. He was apologetic, sorry that his efforts hadn’t been enough. It was such a familiar notion that Kyojuro couldn’t help considering Akaza’s lost humanity again. He let his arm drop, sighing deeply. It seemed they would die down here after all.
Eventually, Akaza began to breathe easier. Kyojuro could feel his eyes on his body and he wondering if the demon was considering eating him. Instead, Akaza stood up. The Hashira stared at him, heart racing, but the demon wasn’t looking at him. He faced the wall again and began to chip away at the stone, shouting with rage and pain as his hands still didn’t heal.
There was only so much pain Kyojuro could tolerate seeing, even if it was a demon. Akaza was hurting himself for his sake, and he would not stand for it. “Akaza, stop!”
Akaza didn’t respond. Kyojuro narrowed his eyes and tossed his sword to the ground.
“Stop!” he shouted again, rushing forwards and throwing himself in front of the stone wall. Immediately the attacks stopped, Akaza staring at him in thinly veiled confusion.
“What are you doing?” the demon asked incredulously, letting his battered fists fall to his sides. “Don’t you want to get out of here?”
“Obviously I do!” Kyojuro said. “But not at someone else’s expense.”
Akaza scoffed. “I’m a demon. It isn’t like these wounds are permanent anyways. Once we’re out and I’ve eaten, they’ll be gone.”
“I still cannot allow you to cause yourself so much pain,” Kyojuro insisted. “Demon or not, you are still worthy of my sympathy. I will not allow you to continue this.”
“You’ll really die down here, in that case,” the demon hissed.
“So be it,” Kyojuro said.
Akaza glared at him, clearly very furious. Kyojuro glared right back, determined.
“I don’t want it to be this way!” Akaza shouted. His blood dripped from his hands to the ground and he swayed slightly. On instinct, Kyojuro reached out a hand to steady him. Akaza blinked and stared at him.
“I do not think you will die, but you will certainly suffer from those wounds, won’t you?” Kyojuro asked, his hand firmly resting on the demon’s shoulder. His skin was cool to the touch, and Kyojuro marveled in the back of his mind at the hard muscle he felt there.
“I’ll get better,” Akaza said.
“That does not answer my question.”
“I just need to eat,” Akaza said.
Kyojuro fell silent. “I suppose. . . I’m the only sustenance for you down here, aren’t I?”
The demon glanced backwards at the makeshift grave. “Not necessarily. I could always just eat him.”
“Absolutely not!” Kyojuro exclaimed, angry at the mere idea.
Akaza swallowed loudly. “Then. . . yeah. You are.”
Kyojuro blinked.
“Don’t worry!” The demon said, and Kyojuro could’ve sworn he became even more pale than usual. “I’m not going to hurt you. I know it’s hard to trust me on that, but I can control myself, I promise.”
The Flame Hashira’s hand shook where it rested on the demon. Looking directly into Akaza’s eyes, he rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm wordlessly.
“. . . What are you doing?” Akaza’s face was unreadable.
“We both want to live. I will also heal.” Kyojuro felt his face heating up.
Akaza brushed Kyojuro’s hand off his shoulder, leaning close. “What are you saying?”
Kyojuro took a deep, steadying breath. “Akaza,” he began carefully, fighting to keep his voice level. “I give you permission to drink my blood, however much you require to heal yourself.”
They were both quiet, Kyojuro in a patient standby, Akaza frozen with shock. The demon’s eyes flickered between his face and his exposed arm, but he made no move to indulge in the offer. His eyes traced the Hashira’s veins hungrily, however, and Kyojuro could tell how hungry he really was.
“Don’t spend too long thinking about it,” Kyojuro said. “I could succumb to my head wound at any moment.”
“Right,” Akaza said. He took the offered arm in his ruined hands and gazed into Kyojuro’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
At the Hashira’s nod, the demon lowered his face to the inside of his elbow and cast one last searching glance upwards. Then his sharp fangs pierced Kyojuro’s flesh. It wasn’t nearly as painful as he’d been expecting, but he wondered what his fellow Hashira would say if they knew he’d willingly fed a demon, and an Upper Rank at that.
It seemed like it took forever for Akaza to finish, but at last he pulled his mouth away from the wound and met Kyojuro’s eyes, licking his lips with a grin. Kyojuro stared at him, fighting to stay upright. The pure satisfaction radiating from the demon was overwhelming, and the look in Akaza’s eyes excited the Hashira.
“Thank you, Kyojuro,” Akaza said. Kyojuro grunted in dissent. The demon leaned Kyojuro against the wall and then ripped a long strip of white cloth from his own pants, tying it around the wounded arm. Kyojuro noticed that his hands were fully healed.
Akaza tied the makeshift bandage up and stepped back, facing the obstruction again. Seven quick, devastatingly powerful hits and the wall crumbled away, revealing the night sky.
“Oh, good,” Kyojuro said. He felt faint yet again. “We’re free.”
The demon turned and brushed a strand of Kyojuro’s fiery hair from his eyes. “Stay awake for me, Kyojuro,” he said.
The Flame Hashira passed out.