#muse || Tokito Muichiro

[festivaloffire-a]

@ofmistnmoons Yuichiro says;;

Yells at for the babiest of brothers)))

❛  but  the  thing  is  ,  even  if  i  could  go  back  ,  i  wouldn’t  belong  there  anymore.

Did either of them truly belong where they were? After everything they had both went through? They were both lucky to be alive. That night.. They should have both been killed, and yet buy some sheer dumb luck here they both were here. Alive and well.

Muichiro can't help but to repress the shutter leaving his body. The fear he felt at the thought of losing his brother that night? That was simply what fueled the younger slayer to strive... to push himself so much. He needed to be better. Needed to be there to protect his brother if that were to happen again.

"Neither of us belong there anymore. We have both grown. Whether it be physically or mentally... It doesn't matter."

A huff leaves the younger brother. Irritation seemingly flashing across his face before it's gone just as quickly. Mui wasn't good at these sentimental types of things. He knew that, and yet... he still tried to be there. Whether it be a shoulder to cry on while he sat silently, or if he needed to be someone's punching bag for them to take their anger out on.

"It's best to stop dwelling on the past. We can't change it. We simply need to learn from it and let it shape us into better humans."

[romaritimeharbor]

i need to write platonic mui & reader fics asap. how are there so few platonic mui fics in this fandom. guys please he is literally my son 🙏🙏🙏

[fruitanddarkness]

New Muse Arrival: Muichiro Tokito || Koru-ko || Demon AU!

"Who are you..? Oh.. it doesn't matter..I still have to kill you."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Concept: Upon receiving information Kokushibo still had a living blood relative, Muzan assigned him to find his sole descendant and recruit him into his ranks. Not only to gain another demon who could utilize breathing techniques and bolster his own ranks but should this descendant of Sun Breathing learn how to master it.. Muzan could dispatch him personally. However, with loyalty secured and his memory loss making this former demon slayer is unable to even recall a single memory of his former humanity.. there is little worry.

Muichiro goes by Koru-ko, even though he often forgets his name and must be reminded. The kanji of Koru means 'to be left behind' and ko emphasizes smallness. "The small one who was left behind." Doma affectionately calls him 'Ko-Ko' only to have his head partially sliced off in response

He shows great promise as a potential Kizuki. Swift and efficient in combat. Hardly talks back.. and it seems he suffers from physical pain when any form of his humanity emerges to the surface. He does have a tendency to forget orders easily or become easily distracted.

Art credit: X

[loveswayed]

tag dump!

[whirlybirbs]

— THE FOOL ; KYOJURO RENGOKU ; 煉獄

summary: all you wanted was to pass out in your room, but no. here you are, dragging yourself (quite literally) up the mountainside to the ubuyashiki mansion's onsen. pairing: kyojuro rengoku / f!hashira!reader wc: 3.6k tags: set-pre season 1, rated T, hashira dynamics, kyojuro's impeccable manners, tengen uzui is a son of a bitch, good fluff, embarrassed flirting, slightly forbidden romance, retable reader insert who just wants to be left alone to bathe in peace a/n: don't look at me.

Your bones are tired. 

Not just your bones — but every ounce of marrow in those very bones. The expression 'bone tired'? Yea, it was written and smithed with you in mind. Tonight, you're the muse for true exhaustion — battered, bruised, and barely hanging on. 

The short walk up to the Ubuyashiki Mansion's onsen is proving formidable. 

Every muscle in your body aches and with each step closer, you pray you'll have a moment of quiet peace to yourself. After all, Shinobu insisted (read as threatened) that you soak in the hot spring after administering simple medical aid post-mission. 

Something, something, hot spring stimulates blood flow, blah, blah, strong healing properties.

All you wanted was to pass out in your room, but no. Here you are, dragging yourself (quite literally) up the mountainside through the willows of wisteria on a lantern-lit path to the hot spring.

Your geta catches on a root and you trip up, scoffing tiredly as you catch yourself and grumble a curse. Ow. Irritation simmers under your skin, and you wonder absently what's gotten into you. 

It normally takes more for you to be so... cranky. And openly so.

When you reach the gate of the onsen, your eye twitches.

Son of a —

There's Hashira abound tonight. 

"Look who's back from her little foray out East!"

Did Tengen need to be so loud? 

All the damn time?

The small, dimly lit spot is surrounded by wisteria and maple. The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you sigh and shut the red gate behind you, paying careful mind not to catch your fingers in the latch. Lanterns are perched on rocks, candles only beginning to run with wax in the evening air. The open-air bath overlooks the sprawling estate down the mountain. 

You sigh deeply from your chest, your eyes practically at half-mast when you turn around to snipe Tengen with an unamused look.

"Our dear Dream Hashira... you look like shit," comes the rogue commentary, "No offense, beautiful."

Tengen is at the far edge of the steaming bath with both arms outstretched along the edge. As always, he's taking up as much space as humanly possible. His silver hair hangs about his shoulders — and he even goes so far as to pin you with a rogueish smile. You stare flatly at him in response.

Then: the middle finger. 

"Woof. Tough crowd tonight," he rumbles as he slides a look towards a decidedly uninterested Sanemi. The Wind Hashira has his head hung back against the edge with a towel over his forehead — his eyes are closed. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was asleep. 

"Tengen, do me a favor," comes the gritted reply from the scarred man, "and shut the hell up." 

You motion plainly to Sanemi — the gesture says thank you — with your brows raising in silent agreeance. Even the act of speaking right now is all too much. 

"I must agree with Tengen," comes the wistful and soft voice of Muichiro Tokito as he lifts his chin from its submerged position; his hair is swimming about him. The Mist Hashira looks... almost peaceful; but his words are damning, "You do look like shit."

Somehow it's worse when Tokito says it.

That makes Sanemi lift his head and pry one eye open. 

You serve him an unenthused look from your spot by the benches. You hope for a bit of sympathy, but instead:

"...What the fuck happened to you?" comes his dry response to your current state of being. 

Which — fine, maybe it's fair. The others rarely ever see you in any state aside from perfect. You're meticulous about your appearance; from your uniform to your posture, you value perfection over all else. The devil that has always haunted you is the details. Perhaps it was your rigid upbringing, but regardless—

"Ah!" suddenly, there's a resoundingly warm voice booming across the small courtyard from the onsen's koshitsu, "I see you've returned, Lady— Oh... my, are you quite alright...?"

You've got to be kidding me.

Kyojuro Rengoku's face is twisted into genuine worry. He's standing in the middle of the path, his focus entirely on you. His hair is undone and the sunburst strands are spilling along his chest and back. There's a small cotton towel slung around his narrow waist. You purposefully level your eyes with his, not daring to let your gaze waver — and then you curse Kocho Shinobu a thousand times over for sending you here.  

(Tengen is smirking. You want to throw your sandal at his head.)

Finally, you speak. 

"I'm fine." 

You don't sound fine. You sound like a woman who'd endured being unceremoniously whipped about by a snake Demon in a swamp for three hours before she could finally land a killing blow. 

Kyojuro frowns. His eyes — like two gems of carnelian — are nearly glowing with concern. Those dark brows of his knit and you try to grit out a tight smile. It fails. It looks more like a wince than anything.

It's... pathetic.

"Perhaps a soak will help," the Flame Hashira offers gently. His tone is soft with pity.

Shit. Fuck. Damn it. Fucking Shinobu, fucking hot spring, fucking swamp demon, fucking—

Right. Right, a soak. It's the thing that Tengen Uzui is somehow singlehandedly making more unbearable — he's dragging Sanemi and Muichiro by the necks from the onsen — by leaving you alone with Rengoku. 

"Go on you two! We're just leaving anyways, right fellas?"

"Die," you spit hoarsly in his direction; your expression is flat.

Tengen throws you a wink. "Relax a little, pretty. You deserve it!"

You could still hit him with your geta. Maybe if you put enough force behind it, it could kill him. 

After all, he's been doing this ever since you let it slip about your little crush. 

And just when a girl thinks she can trust an ex-shinobi... never again. You don't care if Tengen is the one offering to buy the sake, you're never drinking with that man again. He's a gossip and a whore. A gossiping whore. A devoted husband-whore who gossips like no-fucking-other. 

Admitting to Tengen Uzui's stupid face that you've been avoiding Kyojuro Rengoku because of your feelings was the second worst mistake you ever made.

Your first worst mistake was not dragging your sorry ass back down the mountain after you and Kyojuro were left alone in the onsen. 

At least — at the very least — it's quieter now, even if the silence feels oddly intimate. 

You're thankful Kyojuro has retreated into the water of the bath; the distance allows you to ignore the burning pit in your gut at the thought of him and you together. In the onsen. Alone.

You've bathed alongside the other Hashira before. The whole lot of you are warriors. There's no shame in the body — and admittedly, you grew up around konyoku onsen in Tokyo. 

It wasn't the nakedness that was the problem. 

...Maybe it was a little bit of the nakedness. 

But, mostly the fact it's Kyojuro Rengoku: the kindest man you've ever met, a man whose smile is nearly as bright as the morning sun, a man whose laugh feels like a summer thunderstorm. A man who is tall, strong, and handsome. It's no small secret he's well-loved among the ranks; respected, admired, sought after... Who wouldn't make an attempt atcatching his eye? After all, he's capable, swift, courageous, honorable—

Having a heart attack.

He's having a heart attack.

I mean — it's you. And him. Alone. 

...Naked. And alone.

He himself could have strangled Tengen when the ex-shinobi scurried off, leaving him here — though he'd never admit it. That sneaky bastard is fully aware of Kyojuro's feelings towards you, and Kyojuro swears the Sound Hashira gets off on forcing him to confront the very thing he forbids himself to even dwell upon. 

Your voice pulls him from his enraptured internal monologue.

"I am fine," you break the silence as your fingers work at the obi around your waist in nervousness. Your back is to him, and as the grey kimono slips down your shoulders, he panics, "I swear."

"I'm not sure I've ever seen you in such a state as this," he tries to sound level, confident, as he turns in the water; suddenly the mountainside is very beautiful. Yes, very nice. Very... mountain-y. 

Kyojuro's eyes flick over his shoulder briefly, back at you.

He sees skin. More of your skin than he's ever seen. There are dimples at the base of your spine. Good god. He swallows tightly and turns his gaze forward once more. 

Even the act of shrugging your kimono off is enough to make you rasp. The ribs Shinobu had been so concerned about are protesting now. It's fine. Everything is fine. You peek over your shoulder. Relief floods you as you realize Rengoku's back is turned. 

Quickly, you slip into the onsen. It's the quickest you've moved all night. 

You plunge in deep, ignoring the burn of the water along of the more raw marks and bruises bitten into your skin. Your ribs wail in protest as you inhale sharply at the heat, and you try your best to coach your expression into unwavering when Kyojuro turns back around. 

"Better?"

All you can do is grunt from your submerged position.

That makes him laugh.

You try to memorize the warm sound and tuck it neatly into your heart. It's cute, the way his eyes scrunch when he laughs. You find yourself staring for a second before swallowing down your affections.

"Shinobu demanded I come," you explain slowly, lifting your hands and playing with the surface of the water, "If I had it my way, I'd be in bed."

Or murdering Tengen in his sleep.

"The hot springs are good for healing," Kyojuro chirps brightly, canting his head as he speaks almost as if he's going to reprimand you. His voice drops an octave, "You know that, Lady Hashira."

He's teasing you.

He's — he's seriously teasing you.

You're naked and he's teasing you.

You sink a little lower into the water and narrow your eyes at him — the act makes you look a bit like an angry, wet cat. Kyojuro can only grin. Truly this is rare form for you. Your disposition is usually sunny, if not well-manicured and mindfully well-mannered. You are every bit a Lady Hashira. Moreso than Shinobu or Mitsuri in a way. 

You are the Dream Pillar, after all, and a woman composed purely of romanticism in his eyes. It's the way he could see you, in another life, in a fine silk kimono and delicate make-up; he could see you in gold and pearls, pouring tea worth more than his monthly salary into fine ceramic cups. Suitors abound.

Though, perhaps that's not so different than now.

Not with the way you're delicately pouring yourself a helping of Tengen's abandoned sake at the edge of the onsen. You'd think it was the most expensive liquor in the land with the care you take to not spill a drop. 

You slide him a hesitant look over your shoulder, the water lapping at your bruised back. Kyojuro lifts a brow.

"What?" you ask, feigning innocence as you turn back to the task at hand, "It'd be a shame if it went to waste."

"I didn't know sake had healing properties," Kyojuro offers slowly, his lips twitching upwards as he watches you take a long sip from the cup.

"Something, something, blood flow," you murmur mostly to yourself, tossing back the rest with a scowl and a wince, "I'm sure Shinobu would agree."

Kyojuro leans back against the wall, sinking a little deeper as he settles onto the seat beneath the water. The ends of his hair are soaked, turning an even darker shade of crimson. His shoulders flex as he relaxes his arms against the stones. 

His own body is tired. Beneath the water, he absently stretches his legs and pays careful mind to the twinge of pain in his left knee.

"Whether she agrees or disagrees is none of my business," he supplies diplomatically.

You reach for the jug, giving it a light shake. It's nearly empty anyway. 

You extend it, offering it to Kyojuro.

The Flame Hashira shakes his head. "No thank you. I reserve drink for special occasions only."

You quirk a brow. Your tone is light. Airy, almost. "I didn't know that about you."

He hums. You place the sake down, sink lower into the water, and try to focus on his face — not the strength in his forearms, nor the water running in rivets down his chest. 

"My father has quite a love for the stuff," he admits with a controlled frown, "I avoid it when I can."

Ah. 

Right. 

Your own father, also a retired Hashira, voiced many a feeling about Shinjuro Rengoku when he was given the chance. You'd visited home months ago and when you mentioned serving alongside Kyojuro, his eyes narrowed dangerously and impeccably sharp. His tongue lashed out at you — as if you were the retired Flame Pillar himself. 

There's a history there, it seems.

"I apologize."

"Don't," he says; firm yet soft.

"It is better that way, really," you mumble in an attempt to soothe the ache you can see across his face, "Liquor leads to making many a fool."

Kyojuro's brow quirks. "You sound as though you're speaking from experience."

"Perhaps," you say slyly, wandering to the far end of the pool. You're nearly submerged to your nose, "A lady shall never tell."

"And if I asked Tengen?"

"You wouldn't dare." The water splashes as you whip around and glare — though Kyojuro senses no real malice. 

It was no small secret you'd been dragged through the mud after you and Tengen's night on the town. Why the Master called a meeting that morning was beyond you, but there's a part of you that wonders if he was slightly amused at your less-than-pleasant state. You swore you were going to puke all over the engawa when you bowed — never mind the fact the morning sun's brightness was enough to nearly drill your brain into a pulp. 

Kyojuro had never seen you so... disheveled. 

Second to tonight, that is.

The Flame Hashira smirks. "If the lady forbades it, then who am I to ignore her wishes?"

Fucking Tengen, fucking Shinobu, fucking Kyojuro—

Fucking honorable, respectable, polite Kyojuro.

"Well, this lady does forbade it," you say with narrowed eyes, "So there."

"You really are in rare form this evening."

He's smirking. That's new.

"Yes, well," you mumble as you lull your head back and wet the rest of your hair; the warmth seeps through the strands and feels soothing on your scalp. You already feel better. Less like a swamp demon's plaything, more like a girl trying her best not to let her petal-mouthed feelings slip out, "We can blame Muzan Kibutsuji for that."

"I surmise it has been a difficult day?" he rumbles quietly from his spot in the onsen.

"You haven't the slightest idea."

"Care to enlighten me?" 

"And embarrass myself?" she mutters, splashing absently, "I'd prefer to remain capable in your eyes, Rengoku. I'll spare you the details. And anyone else who asks."

He's grinning. That sort that appears in an optimist's dream. Bright, sunny and so enrapturing it feels like your heart is being scorched by its warmth. 

"Your capability will never waver in my eyes," Kyojuro supplies as he flicks the water absently; his gaze has fallen to the sway of the wisteria in the evening air, "You are amazing. One particularly bad day does not diminish that fact."

Maybe it's the sake.��Maybe it's the compliment. Either way, the tips of your ears feel warm. 

That little, nibbling feeling is back in his chest. The very one he's been trying his best to ignore for months. 

"You are only being kind," you mutter, "Because, as the other's made very clear, I look like shit." 

Kyojuro finds himself smiling a bit at the jest — his fingers glide along the top of the water, tracing idly patterns into it as he watches you sink deeper and deeper into the hot spring. Finally, for a moment, you descend below the surface.

Then, you break the surface slowly. Your hair is swimming around you, clinging to your bare shoulders. You exhale, brush water from your lashes, and inhale. You look... beautiful. A different sort of beautiful than he's used to. This sort of beauty is relaxed. Tired. You seem a bit freer than usual — unrestrained by the image you aim to keep well protected amongst the others. 

Kyojuro sinks a little deeper himself.

He's still watching you.

Your eyes find his. 

There's a moment where all you two can do is blink — Flame and Dream mingling for a breath beneath the stars. Wide eyes bound by a moment of silence, a moment of hesitation. He feels like all the breath has been swept from his lungs. All Kyojuro can do is stare into your eyes.

Then, he speaks.

Blurts, more aptly.

"You are beautiful."

...Did he just say that? 

Your lips part in quiet shock.

Suddenly, his posture is more rigid, and his expression a bit panicked — perhaps because your own eyes widen a mile at the words that spill from his mouth. Kyojuro raises his hands as he inhales sharply, the heat of the bath inching a degree hotter. Whether it's from the sudden admission or a misfire of his breathing technique, you're unsure. 

His cheeks are hot. He leans forward, shaking his head.

Damn you, Tengen. Damn you, damn you—

"I-I simply mean — you... You do not look like shit—" He attempts to explain.

"Oh—"

"Yes, yes, I—"

"Thank you," you say quickly, trying to calm your own racing heart as he swallows down a bought of embarrassment and offers a pained smile your way. It's enough to quell his panic.

"Of course," he breathes out, sagging a bit deeper into the water as he fiddles with his hands. He has a habit of rubbing at his callouses. Kyojuro swallows, then hoarsly admits: "One might think that I was drinking the sake with the way I'm making a fool of myself."

Your laugh is like a balm. 

"Hardly," you offer as you sink into the water with a smile; your eyes are glimmering with something a bit mischievous as you swim towards the water's edge. You pause, then slip a look his way over your bare shoulder, "...Do you mean it?"

"That I'm a fool? Of course."

You scoff quietly. Kyojuro's smile is tight — knowing. 

Then, he speaks warmly and kindly. He confirms your question with ease. His arms are wound across his chest. "You are truly beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever had the grace to lay eyes upon, my Lady." 

Maybe you could drown yourself here. 

You're not entirely sure how you'll ever recover from this — not from how tender he says it, not from how honest his words sound. So suddenly you feel as though he's hung every star in the sky for your eyes only, having wished upon them, time and time again, for nothing more than a moment of your time. It's reverent is what it is.

You're about to open your mouth and say something when a bright, girlish giggle cuts through the tension—

Kyojuro Rengoku has never been more thankful for Mitsuri Kanroji's ill timing. Behind her is Lady Shinobu. 

The pink and green-haired Hashira is ecstatic to find both yourself and Rengoku in the hot spring — her delight is palpable as she waves her arms and cheers brightly into the air. Her crow caws overhead. Her darker-haired counterpart levels them both with polite smiles.

"Oh, this is just lovely! My friends!" she's chirping as she closes the gate, "I am so glad to see you both back safe and sound—"

"Heading my advice, it seems," Shinobu says slowly — almost like she knows something you don't. Her pale, lilac eyes flick between you and Rengoku. For a moment, you almost suspect she's about to ask something.

"How are you feeling?" Mitsuri cries in your direction, shrugging her kimono off with ease — unbothered entirely by Rengoku's presence. The two are like brother and sister, and Mitsuri has never batted an eye about nudity, "How are your ribs?"

Kyojuro levels you with a look. 

You offer a sheepish grin. 

"Yes," Shinobu mutters as she slips out of her geta, "Four broken ribs."

Kyojuro's nostrils flare. "You said nothing about the sort."

You lift your chin in defiance. "I told you I was sparing you the details."

Mitsuri's bright eyes dart between the two of you — a little bit of giddiness blooming at the sight of Kyojuro looking so worried about their fellow Dream Hashira. 

He slides a look towards Kocho. Then rolls his shoulders. With a sigh, he moves to stand, the water lapping at his waist. You decidedly find the edge of the onsen very interesting as you try to coach yourself through the overwhelming urge to stare. 

"I trust you'll monitor her condition, Kocho," he murmurs as he moves through the water; the words sit nicely in your heart and you feel a little pride swell at his indication that he cares if you're alright, "I'll let you ladies have some time amongst yourselves."

You catch his eyes for a second. A moment. A lingering little breath that mingles between you — like Kocho and Mitsuri aren't there. Then, he stepped from the bath and gathered his robe.

For now, the two of you will pretend earlier never happened.

For now.

Just a little thing between the two of you — and suddenly, you're not so cranky. Once the muse for exhaustion, you're now the muse of lovesickness. 

When the gate closes behind Kyojuro, Kocho speaks.

"...What was all that?"

Nevermind. The crankiness is back.

"Shut up."

[hashekyu]

──★ ˙IN LOVE ̟ !?

MUICHIRO TOKITO, the stoic, uncaring and cold mist hashira... in love with you!?

NOTES: made this at 2 am 👍👍 hopefully its ok!!

Muichiro is in love. 

With you.

He doesn't quite know the way it works, and why he's in love with you. At least, that's what Shinobu had told him when he went to her for a supposed remedy to his problem. She only looked at him with a quizzical expression as he explained what troubled him. She had been concerned at first with his descriptions, but when she finally realized it wasn't a sickness making his heart beat faster, his face heat up and his breathing hitch, but love, she didn't know whether to feel relieved, confused, exasperated or happy. But what a shock it was, indeed. 

"Tokito-" Shinobu found herself at loss of words as she smiled awkwardly at the boy staring down at her. She bit her lip. "I don't quite know how to say this to you..." 

"Say what?" his brows furrowed. 

"You see, you aren't sick, you're completely fine, actually." 

He was even more confused, she could tell by his silence.

"You're in love."

And so, Muichiro stared at her blankly, then let his gaze drift away. "In love, huh?" he mused, seemingly unfamiliar to the term. "How odd."

He crossed his arms. "Do you think Y/N has ever been in love as well?"

Shinobu was a little startled, dizzy with his unending questioning. "Y/N?"

Muichiro nodded. 

Shinobu hummed, chewing her lower lip. "I suppose so."

"What happens if two people are in love with each other at the same time?"

Shinobu felt it all click together. "You're in love with Y/N?"

He shrugged. "I guess I am. That's weird."

"I can't help you with this, I'm sorry," Shinobu was embarassed, and quite overwhelmed, if she was being honest. "But I wish you well, Tokito."

And so, he thought about it for a moment. Then he thought about you. 

He smiled a little.

He was in love.

With you.

[demonslayerunhinged]

hello! tis me once again.

I was wondering if you had any hc's to how the other hashira would react if sanegiyuu ever became canon (while everyone is still alive 😭😭😭) bc so far the kny fandom has been nothing but angsty and I crave fluff

Hiiiii! I don't have any stashed headcanons, but I'll make one right now just for you.

When Sanemi confessed about the true nature of he and Giyuu's relationship, Obanai was annoyed, but to be honest not all that shocked. Sanemi wasn't slick, he's noticed the longing looks and exchanges between him and Giyuu when they thought no one was looking. But why did it have to be Giyuu?? Sanemi always gave him flack for his love for Mitsuri, but then goes on to date Giyuu, of all people!

"I can't believe that guy." he huffed to himself.

But he noticed how calm Sanemi was lately, the little glimmer of light in his friend's perpetually bloodshot eyes, and on more than one occasion he caught the way Sanemi's eyes softened as he read what Obanai presumed to be one of Giyuu's letters. His friend was in love, he was happy and who was Obanai to take that away from him.

"Oi, Tomioka."

The evening after a brief Hashira meeting at the Master's mansion, he walked up to Giyuu much to the other man's bewilderment. He paused for a few moments, which made Giyuu more uncomfortable than he already was.

Then with a deep, resigned sigh, he fixed his gaze at the Water Hashira.

"Take care of him." he said. "Don't make him upset....or else..." Kaburamaru huffed in agreement at the unspoken threat as Obanai turned away sharply and walked away with Giyuu staring after him.

...

Obanai, unable to keep the huge news to himself, sent a letter to Mitsuri. The pair had discussed Sanemi and Giyuu's relationship on more than one occasion, and he knew Mitsuri would be thrilled to learn that her suspicions had been right.

It wasn't until he got a letter from Gyomei requesting for a meeting that he realized he had made a huge mistake. He made his way to the gazebo beside the Master's mansion, wondering why the Stone Hashira had wanted a meeting. When he there he saw not only Himejima but Rengoku, Kocho, Tengen, Tokito and Kanroji who had an apologetic smile on her face. His eyes widened in realization.

"Oh."

"Forgive me, Iguro-san!" cried Mitsuri, her face as red as a tomato. "I couldn't help myself!"

Gyomei turned to face Obanai. "We heard the news about Sanemi and Giyuu."

Obanai gulped slightly. Although romantic relationships between corps members wasn't exactly forbidden, he was still unsure about how the others would react.

"What should we do for them?" the Stone Hashira asked.

Obanai's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?" he said, "You're not angry?"

Now it was Gyomei's turn to be confused. "Of course not," he said. "Although I have to admit I was shocked at first"

"As was I!" said Tengen, as he folded his arms, he made his expression into one of exaggerated sorrow. "I can't believe Shinazugawa would court such a plain man!"

"Right!" exclaimed Obanai without thinking. "That's what I said!"

"I'm just shocked that Tomioka-san can feel love or any sort of affection." Muichiro mused half-jokingly.

"Mmm!" agreed Rengoku "I was shocked as well! But I'm happy for them!"

"I'm happy for them too!" squealed Mitsuri.

"We should celebrate!" said Tengen. "With a flashy party!"

"Yes! A party!" said Rengoku, cheerful as always.

"With lots of food!" added Mitsuri.

"Yes, food." said Iguro, happy to agree with anything Mitsuri said.

Shinobu, always the voice of reason, raised her hand in the air. Her soft voice cutting through the excited chatter.

"Umm," she started. "I don't think Tomioka-san and Shinazugawa-san would appreciate any attention brought to this."

"Nonsense!" said Tengen "This is love and love should be celebrated flamboyantly!"

"Agreed!" said Rengoku. "We need to celebrate!"

Even Muichiro nodded his head in agreement. "It's only right."

Shinobu gave up then, it was no use. Everyone was already excited, and a small part of her wanted to see how the pair would react to their colleague's antics.

"We have to make plans now." said Gyomei with a determined expression on his face as he clapped his prayer beads together.

They all agreed and gathered around in a circle as they came up with ideas for the ideal wedding party.

Somewhere on their respective patrols, Giyuu and Sanemi sneezed at the same time.

...

They both laid on the futon, their bodies flushed and covered in sweat that gleamed slightly in the moonlight. They were spending the night together at Sanemi's house at Giyuu's suggestion to prevent any interruptions from one of Tanjiro's surprise visits.

"Shinazugawa" he said. "Have you noticed the strange way the others have been acting lately?"

Giyuu turned and laid on his side to face Sanemi, who was panting softly with a scarred arm thrown over his damp face.

"Yes." replied Sanemi, his gruff voice was soft with sleep. "I have."

Of course, Sanemi had noticed, and strange was an understatement when it came to the behavior of the other Hashira over the last couple of days. Gyomei, Mitsuri and Muichiro were always smiling conspiratorially as he walked by, Tengen always greeted him with a clap on his back while smiling more broadly than usual. Rengoku just said, "Congratulations!" every time they crossed paths.

Yes, it was hard not to notice.

"Tch." Sanemi clicked his tongue in annoyance as he turned to face Giyuu. His expression slightly apologetic. "I told Obanai not to tell anyone."

"What do we do?"

He sighed and he put his arms around Giyuu. "We'll just have to tell them, properly."

...

"They're coming! They're coming!" squealed Mitsuri as she rushed to carry the platter of Sakura mochi. "Everyone get ready!"

The Hashira all took their places ready with platters of food and gifts. Sanemi was the first to enter the room followed by Giyuu.

"SURPRISEEEE!!!"

The strength of the voices of all the Hashira was so sudden it had Sanemi almost reaching for his katana out of instinct.

"Congratulations on your marriage!" cried Rengoku and Tengen. Mitsuri threw fistfuls of sakura petals over their heads, while Gyomei played some lovely tunes on his flute, tears of joy streaming down his face.

"Namu Amida Butsu." he said. "Love is always a joy to witness."

Giyuu looked like a startled deer and Sanemi, who had recovered from his initial shock, turned to glare at Obanai who was suddenly very interested in the wall beside him.

"Ah" Giyuu started, "We're not -" His sentence was cut off when a piece of tempura was shoved into his mouth by Rengoku who held a bowl filled to the brim with a neatly arranged stack of tempura.

"Eat! Eat!" he said excitedly, already pushing another piece into Giyuu's mouth. "This is a time to celebrate!"

The other Hashira then got out their gifts and surrounded the couple.

"Open mine first!" cried Mitsuri as she shoved something large wrapped in a Furoshiki cloth into Giyuu's tempura-stuffed face.

"No, open mine first!" cried Tengen.

"I have mine here, too." said Muichiro.

Giyuu looked over at Sanemi whose face was slightly obscured by his bangs, he shoulders shook slightly, and blood vessels popped up on his face. Shinobu feared that Sanemi was about to burst out in a raging fit, but instead he shouted with an intense blush spreading across his face.

"ONE AT A TIME, DAMMIT!"

Shinobu sighed in relief and smiled at the couple. Maybe this wasn't a bad plan after all.

...

"What is this?" Sanemi said, as he shook a tiny green silk pouch Tengen had given him, scrutinizing it with suspicion.

"Gingko nuts!" Tengen replied excitedly, "For your flamboyant wedding night, of course!"

Sanemi stared at the Sound Hashira in disbelief, a deep pink flush appearing across his face.

"Are you trying to be funny?" He gritted his teeth, ready to rip Tengen a new one when he heard Giyuu's soft voice behind him.

"Shinazugawa."

Sanemi quickly hid the pouch in the breast pocket of his uniform, much to Tengen's amusement, and turned to face Giyuu who stood with a shy smile on his face and his hand outstretched. In his palm was a single ohagi.

"Would you...like to share some ohagi with me?"

Sanemi's features softened at the gesture. He made a show of rolling his eyes, but gave Giyuu a smile as he gently took the ohagi from Giyuu's hand, "Sure" he said.

"He's going to share much more than ohagi with you tonight!" Tengen snickered.

There was a pop sound as Sanemi's blood vessels snapped.

"You!" he roared and lunged at Tengen.

"No, Shinazugawa!" cried Rengoku as he struggled to hold Sanemi back. "Not on your wedding day!"

"We're not married!"

Watching the ruckus that ensued, it brought a smile to Giyuu's lips. He was going to have to tell Tanjiro about this during their training.

I hope this is ok, it's not much and my writing skills are not very good 😖

*Gingko nuts are said to be an aphrodisiac.

[slayfics]

so uhmm what if like muichiro x reader and like the reader keeps getting like hit on and like the reader is uncomfortable and muichiro like conforts the person who is hitting on the reader and drags her away?

Muichiro becomes upset when other Demon Slayers hit on you.

"Come on, just give me a chance," The demon slayer pressed further. A fellow demon slayer was pressing you to go out on a date with him.

“I'm flattered really, but I'm sorry I have to decline," You stated for the second time, beginning to feel uncomfortable now.

"I'll take you anywhere you want though!" He pleaded.

"She said no," an icy voice came from the distance as another approached. "Do you really need to hear it for the third time?" it asked.

You turned to see Muichiro who was now beside you staring daggers at the other demon slayer. If looks could kill this demon slayer would definitely be dead.

"I-I m-my ap-apologies!" The demon slayer yelped and quickly turned to run away knowing better than to quarrel with a Hashira. 

Muichiro let out a big sigh, "That's the second time this week a corp member has taken interest in you."

Your cheeks flushed at the Hashira's observation, "I suppose it is." 

"Why can't they just focus on their missions," Muichrio expressed with a flash of anger in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I don't mean to create complications on our missions," You said looking down at the floor.

"You don't need to apologize! It's them that need to keep focused on battling demons. I just wish there was a way I could help. I know how uncomfortable it makes you," Muichiro said, tilting your head to look up at him. "Please don't stare at the ground, you deserve to hold your head up high always."

"I suppose they would leave me alone if they thought I already had a boyfriend," you mused.

"Tell them that then."

"I'm a terrible liar though," you said, laughing nervously.

"So then don't lie," Muichiro said and turned his gaze to look past you, nervous to take in your expression.

"I'm sorry I don't understand?" You said tilting your head to the side and studying Muichiro’s expression. He suddenly had a nervousness to him that you hadn't seen before. It was a vast contrast to his usual stoic expression.

"Well, just don't lie when you say it... if you want.." He said, still looking past you, refusing to make eye contact. 

"Tokito- are you... asking to be my boyfriend?" You said fumbling the words on the way out. You must have been misunderstanding. There was no way the Hashira could be asking what you thought. 

Muichiro responded by nodding his head swiftly, too nervous to speak.

Overwhelmed by emotion you wrapped your arms around the Hashira, "Do you really mean that?" You asked, face buried in the warmth of his chest.

Muichiro wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tight, "Yes, I would be honored." He spoke and you felt the words rumble in his chest. 

"The honor is mine," you said, barely fighting back tears of happiness. "Muichiro Tokito, my boyfriend... this doesn't feel real."

Muichiro gently kissed the top of your head, "Mhm, and you make sure to tell anyone who gives you a hard time again." 

Thank you for the request! I loved this idea! I hope you enjoy it~

Tags~

@aeolia18 @yandere-kou @sakurasunkiss @hashiroses @plvuii @snowmist-hashira

[angelic-dew]

Hiiiii! I really love your recent works and I kinda stalk your posts, [i am so sorry.] but I've never gotten enough courage to interact with your blog before!

so if it isn't too much can I be known as 🍄 anon?

But besides my aimless rambling, can I please request some mini headcannons of giyu, rengoku, muichiro [and others you can think of!] with a s/o who died? [cause of death: demon]

Thank you so much!! if it isn't too much of a bother, drink water please! <33

# deceased s/o headcannons !

୨ 🫧 ୧・author's note :: no problem at all, I tried my best to keep these short, I failed! And I hope yk to take care of yourself as well! I tried my best with these lol, but this will unfortunately be in 2 parts.

୨ 🍚 ୧・pairing :: Muichiro T. x g/n reader ⁞⁞ Sanemi S. x g/n reader — {you/your pronouns | separately done} pt. 2 here

୨ ✖ ୧・trigger warnings :: death. grieving. body mutilation. cannibalism. vengeance. angst. grammatical errors. manga spoilers. || proofread.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

꒰☁️꒱. Muichiro can't cope at all with this, in short. In fact, he doesn't even want to believe that you're dead, despite your corpse being mangled and mutilated beyond recognition. Blood painted the floor around your lifeless body, crimson streaks flowed slowly by the masses to create a bloody pool in which you rested in.

꒰☁️꒱. Though your eyes were blank, lifeless, defunct. This couldn't be right, he left for his nightly parole, thinking you would be safe, that you would be well taken care of within that time; oh, how he was wrong. The sight before him would be engraved into his memory for the end of his days, at best. The love of his life, his muse, his only reason to keep going, fell from him at that very moment.

꒰☁️꒱. How could he cope with this one? First were his parents, then his only brother, and now his beloved (name). Was life supposed to be this cruel to him? He meant well, he had a passion to protect others, he fought for what was right and that all was because of you. You inspired him to be who he is today, and if he doesn't have that special person once more, he might as well give up on living. What's the point of it anymore, he can't have you. He can't ever see your loving smile again, the one Tokito cherished so much.

꒰☁️꒱. Disbelief was like an overwhelming force, consuming him at every second it could, toying with his mind as if it were its own pawn, specifically made for enjoyment. Salty, little tears welled up in his now dull eyes, they were almost as empty as yours. He inched closer to your figure, stepping slowly into the pool of blood that encaved around what was left of your mutilated carcass.

꒰☁️꒱. Your beloved felt his stomach churning as he held what was left of your remains in his arms, your blood beginning to stain his clothing. His tears were filled with hurt but a vengeance boiled within his very being. He held your hand gently, the cold touch sending shivers up his skin; his tears began to stain your corpse, but he didn't care. He had to be with you as long as he could, even until you began to rot.

꒰☁️꒱. it wasn't your time to leave just yet. He won't accept it. But yet he had to. You were left in his warm embrace for hours on end - into the late hours of the evening. It was only then his crow notified the other members of the corps. Even they too, were surprised by your death. Tokito was desperately clinging onto your body like his life depended on it, your wounds were full of maggots and your body was starting to deteriorate. Eventually, Tengen along with Kyojuro would have to pry him off of your corpse despite his refusal.

꒰☁️꒱. Muichiro could never accept this defeat. He will never move on, he still believes you two are still together in some shape or form. He tends to visit your grave each day which offers him an opportunity to do so. Delivering a fresh flower of your favourite kind and colour each time, always replacing the wilted one. Only the freshest and best for you. A part of me 100% believes that he would talk to your grave as if it were a person.

꒰☁️꒱. The mist hashira only has one purpose to live at this point, to slay every demon he comes in contact with, in hopes that's the one that stole his happiness away. Fighting with brutality and skill. He dreams of the day that he could join you once more; he desperately hopes you're waiting for him wherever you are. For if he could sell his soul to hear your angelic voice one last time, he would be done for.

❝ My dear, we shall meet again. Death will never do us part. ❞

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

꒰🌪꒱. From his backstory, we can gather that Sanemi cannot comprehend loss and tragedy; it's more or less the reason he became so cold as of his present age, having witnessed as well as being involved in such a traumatic event during his childhood, he tends to block off others. Losing the ones he cared about most, all that he ever loved. Even losing Kanae left a mark on him until he met you.

꒰🌪꒱. It was only up until he met you that his luck changed drastically. You made him feel complete, wanted and loved more than ever. Shinazugawa loved you, he truly did, with all that he ever had in him; you were his light in his darkness, the person he knew he could rely on whenever tragedy struck his heart. He cared for you, loved you with everything he ever had; he wanted to be yours, forever.

꒰🌪꒱. Sanemi was never reliant on others besides himself, therefore, he never sought the need for others to give their aid even when he did in fact need it more than ever. Yet, you changed that, the one person he loved more than anything, the one person he cherished with every fibre of his being.

꒰🌪꒱. So one could only imagine the sheer terror that painted his face that day. It was as if his heart shattered beyond repair into minuscule fragments of love he had for you; his eyes were almost hollow, dead in fact. There wasn't even a source of any emotion, not even anger, no fear, no hatred.

꒰🌪꒱. The only good thing that came into his life slipped away from his grasp at that moment, again. That was just his luck. I mean, it had to happen at some point but he never expected for you to be torn to pieces by a dreaded demon. Your screams of terror could only fill his ears then, as he failed to do the one thing he swore to always do. Protect others.

꒰🌪꒱. Emptiness turns into guilt and guilt turns into blame. The wind hashira was dumbfounded as his gaze was steadily fixtures onto your mutilated corpse. Crimson streaks slowly make a border around your body, he could only watch on as your haunting screams ring in his ears, your last breath was used to scream for your life. For help. Yet he did not save you in time. What kind of hashira was he supposed to be if he couldn't protect the one person that meant the world to him?

꒰🌪꒱. At this point, I see Shinazugawa not even putting up a fight with the demon that brutally took your life from his hands. Though he craves the enticing thought of revenge, he needs to see you before he decides to take his own life. He'd rather die out of shame on the battlefield rather than the fact he is willing to ever commit it.

꒰🌪꒱. But isn't there a light at the end of the tunnel? Surely, shame is brought upon his name, one of the strongest hashira's last dying breath being taken away by a lonesome, pathetic demon; but it was in his best interests, how could he go with the guilt of your death weighing him down every breath he took? It would be too much for him to handle.

꒰🌪꒱. But at last, his dying moments were peaceful, as all the cheerful memories of you filled his mind, the good ones were the best for there rarely were any horrid ones to begin with. He's thankful that you came into his life, he cherished every second of the time he spent with you. You gave him purpose, the only choice was to die if he didn't have a true purpose. Sanemi's final moments were enjoyed, a smile plastering his face as he crossed into the afterlife, in hopes to be met by your angelic beauty one last time.

❝ I hope you're waiting for me, angel. ❞

© angelic-dew 2023,, please don't translate or plagiarize my work. Although support and reblogs help a lot! <3

[romaritimeharbor]

HYDRANGEAS, CH. 2. — After training for about a year, the Final Selection arrives.

— series synopsis. Hydrangeas, in some cultures, have been known to symbolize apology. The Hashira Tokito [Name] has many things to apologize for, indeed.

— trigger and content warnings. canon-typical violence, blood, death, minor (?) canon character death.

— author's thoughts. hydrangeas is also on ao3!

        Their stay with the Ubuyashiki family was nothing short of pleasant.

        Both Amane and Kagaya had always treated them very kindly whenever they would run into either one of them, and the Kakushi constantly running around the estate would occasionally stop by their room to ensure that they had eaten that day and that they were comfortable (somehow, they felt that Kagaya may have had something to do with the doting nature of the medics, but they didn't want to be presumptuous and ask). The days gradually built up and turned into a week.

        Mid-morning light kissed their heated face, the cool breeze serving as quite the refreshment during the break they were instructed to take. Their chest heaved as they gathered their breath, but there was a little smile that seemed to be permanently affixed to their face, eyes gleaming with youthful joy and determination at what was held between their fingers.

        "Do your brothers like origami?" the soothing voice that, in the past seven days, they had grown quite used to hearing asked. Kagaya's expression was indecipherable as he observed their deft hands fold the paper he provided, though there was something unquestionably positive in his face as he watched. It was never an easy feat to read him, despite his age, and perhaps that was the point; for him to lead the Corps, they did not doubt that he would have to be exceptionally unwavering or enigmatic in both expression and demeanor.

        "Yes," they answered, holding up the little paper airplane they made with pride. It was messily folded, but ultimately, it was more about the sentiment. "Muichiro likes paper airplanes quite a lot. Though, I have to say, he's a lot better than me at making them, but I think it'll make him happy when he gets it with the letter. Even if I'm not that good at it. Hmm... Yuichiro likes paper stars more, I think. He has all the ones I made him in a little box by where he sleeps. He doesn't know I know this, but he fidgets with them when he's upset."

        The boy sitting on the engawa smiled at that.

        "You are a very attentive sibling," he mused, to which their face heated up somewhat; the earnest nature of his compliment didn't catch them off guard, per se, but it was unexpected and sudden. Perhaps the fact that it was coming from him of all people also made it more embarrassing. "It's good that you're maintaining contact with them. It is nothing short of a blessing to have living family while also being a member of the Corps. Many who join do so because their families became victims of the cruelty of demons."

        "Yes, so I've heard. I'm going to do my best to cherish them. I want them to feel loved, even when I'm so far away, and for a reason that they probably can't even understand yet... I never want them to feel abandoned."

        Before Kagaya had the chance to respond—before he had the chance to even think of a response—one of the Kakushi ran up to him, bowing.

        "Good morning, Master! A few Kasugai crows have arrived to receive their Slayers' mission assignments!"

        "Ah, I see. Thank you. You are dismissed."

        The Kakushi shouted a quick, enthusiastic 'Yes, sir!' before leaving to return to their other duties.

        "I am quite sorry, young one," he apologized steadily as he rose to his feet. "We will have to finish this discussion another time."

        "N— no, it's fine! I know you have many things to attend to! I don't mind at all," they immediately insisted, setting the paper airplane off to the side with their unfinished letter that they had started a bit earlier in the day. Carefully, they stood up from their place situated on the stones in the center garden. "Thank you for your time, Master. I will continue training, then, if that is alright with you?"

        "Of course. Go ahead. I believe you have rested quite long enough," he replied, nodding. 

        With that, he turned elegantly and left, disappearing into the estate.

        They turned their attention to the wooden sword sitting neatly against the perimeter of the engawa. It was a comfortable weight in their hands, they thought, as their fingers curled around the handle. A gentle roll of the wrist to ensure their grip was not too tight nor too loose, and they turned to face the garden with a smile.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        A burn seared their aching muscles.

        They did not stop, however—they did not so much as falter even in spite of the pain they felt. Breathlessly, they swung the practice sword again. The structures that their upper back was composed of were all exceedingly tense and hot to the touch, evidence of the strain they were putting their young body through.

        A choked breath entered their lungs, and suddenly, the sword was no longer in their hands. 

        The splaying of their fingers across their chest seemed beyond their control. Their knees buckled, the ground underneath them swaying and making it extremely difficult to remain upright. Everything was spinning.

        With a huff, they gingerly sat down; perhaps the decision was wise, for the second they did, a series of violent coughs wracked their body, and they raised their freehand to their lips in an attempt to suppress the unexpected fit. Blood rushed through their ears and their heart pounded ferociously in their chest. The spinning of the world around them seemed to diminish somewhat.

        And finally, when the world completely stopped spinning, when the floor felt solid again, when their coughs subsided, they carefully let their hand fall from their lips...

        "Ew."

        A bit of blood and spit coated their palm; they grimaced, actively restraining themselves from shaking the fluid off of their skin. They didn't want to just... splatter it rudely on Kagaya's property. It felt wrong to even think of doing so, but wiping it off on their clothes seemed gross.

        They huffed, contemplating their next action.

        Just as their heart rate was calming down, it leapt again in surprise when a cloth was gently held out to them by a large hand. Their gaze followed the arm up until they could see its owner's face. Bright, youthful eyes that had yet to truly witness the horrors of the world met purely white ones that somehow carried a sense of wisdom that they could not possibly hope to understand at their young age. He had seen things they had yet to—that much was evidently clear.

        "It is normal to spit up blood if you are not used to exerting yourself to this degree."

        His voice snapped them out of their daze, and they were quick to take the cloth from his hands.

        "Ah... I see. I was almost worried for a moment. Thank you," they said, smiling up at him despite knowing that he probably could not see it. As silly as it would've sounded, had they said it out loud, they hoped he could feel it.

        He nodded, then turned. He was gone before they could so much as think of getting another word out.

        ...Huh. Maybe he just wasn't the social type.

        It was not their business to ask nor was it particularly polite to speculate (though, they could not help but wonder; that, however, could be blamed on innocent, childish curiosity), so with the gratefulness still flickering in their chest, they gently wiped their hand and face before tucking the dirtied cloth away and getting up to continue.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        Continue, they most certainly did.

        They continued even when the sun's rays, combined with their exertion, bore down on their body and boiled their skin. They continued even when the evening chill set in, nipping away at the sun's previous harshness on their skin and burrowing into it in the sun's place. They continued even when pinpoint black dots littered their vision...

        ...And they probably would've pushed even harder, had one of the Kakushi not noticed their stumbling and intervened. That person—a woman, they thought, based solely on the feminine tones of her voice through her mask—had insisted that she was only acting upon the Master's orders. 'Lord Tokito, the Master said you should stop now,' she had said to them, gingerly helping them inside and rushing around to gather food and water for them.

        It was now the following morning and, with a clearer mind, they thought she was simply lying through her teeth to get them to stop.

        (Not that they didn't appreciate it, but she didn't have to go through all the trouble; a simple 'I think you should call it a day' would have been more than sufficient for them. If she was worried, they would have been more than happy to stop, since they wished not to trouble anyone with worrying over their wellbeing.)

        Morning sun, as always, kissed their skin in greeting when they had stepped outside with their wooden sword to begin training. The entirety of their upper back was still sore from the day before, but it did not deter them; all it meant, to them, was that they should perhaps focus on refining a different muscle group today. With that thought in mind, they gingerly set the sword off to the side. Their upper body would probably appreciate the break.

        Stamina it was, then. They did think that their lower body—primarily their legs—could use some kind of work, but they weren't quite sure how to go about it other than running. Maybe they would ask for advice later, but for now, this was more than sufficient. They had to work on their stamina, regardless. Running perhaps would not really do much for the muscles themselves, but there was no doubt in their mind that it would improve either their endurance, stamina, or both.

        About an hour into sprinting around the inner courtyard's expanse—sprinting around the entire perimeter of the estate might've been too much for their body as it was in its current state, so they settled for something that they knew they could manage for a longer period of time without feeling winded—a familiar, booming young voice called out for them:

        "[Name]!"

        It wasn't as if they had known him for years, but somehow, they did not even have to turn their head to know who was calling out to them before a little grin broke out on their features.

        "Kyojuro! Good morning!" they called back, raising their head to look in his direction and waving brightly. Since they were friends, they felt it was appropriate to address him so casually; if he didn't feel the same, then he surely would not have done so to them. His presence inexplicably made them feel more joyful. Some of the vibrantly positive energy that practically rolled of his being in waves must have already rubbed off on them, they thought.

        Behind him stood his father, expression and face in general as intense as ever. He said something they could not quite discern to his son, before his sharp, soul-piercing gaze turned back to them. He gave them a firm nod in what they assumed was his way of greeting them. Then, he turned on his heel and disappeared behind one of the estate's many extensive walls. They could only assume he was going to seek out Kagaya—Rengoku Shinjuro was a Hashira, after all, so they would not be surprised if he had important matters to attend to with the boy. He must have brought his son along to visit.

        ...Had Kyojuro asked to come along to see them? The idea made a bit of fond warmth bloom in their chest.

        Snapping out of their thoughts, they focused back onto the present moment.

        ...But it was then that they took notice of the smaller dark-haired boy standing awkwardly beside Kyojuro, as if he wasn't completely comfortable with the situation he was currently in. His heterochromatic gaze was intense, boring into their skull and attentively observing them (and their surroundings, they noted, based on the way his eyes flicked around; he must not have ever seen Kagaya's estate before now) with what they assumed to be paranoid precision. What they found to be his most notable feature, though, were the bandages wrapped securely around the bottom half of his face.

        Was he wounded? Scarred, perhaps? Maybe he was just shy and preferred not to completely show his face. There were an infinite number of possibilities that might explain why his face was covered, but...

        Regardless of the reason for his bandages, they did their best to brush it off and pay it no mind. It was easy for them to recognize that it may very well be a sensitive topic, and therefore was not something they should pry about. Curiosity was never an easy beast to tame, but they nonetheless did their best. No amount of curiosity could justify being so rude as to  speculate, let alone ask. No, it was not their place to do so.

        With slightly trembling legs—an hour was a long time to constantly run without any breaks whatsoever, but it wasn't quite near their limit; it was merely enough to make them feel a bit weak in the lower body area that they had been neglecting to train recently—they walked over to the two, the grin on their face growing into a smaller, more calm smile. 

        One thing they had taken notice of was how fidgety and nervous the boy beside their friend was. Therefore, they did their best to remain calm and steady as to not overwhelm him.

        Kyojuro was quick to squeeze them in an enthusiastic hug. They did their best not to wheeze at the utter strength he was exerting upon their body, patting his back both in a fond greeting and in a desperate attempt to get him to loosen up slightly. He did not seem to catch the hint, though thankfully, he did let go. "How are you? How's training going?"

        "I'm doing well," they replied, still trying to catch their breath after he'd knocked it out of them. "Training's good, too. Though, I'm not really sure what to do to get my stamina up, so I've just been... running. Since I worked on my upper muscles yesterday, I want to focus on something else today. Give them a chance to breathe, you know?"

        "Let's go on a run together!" he suggested brightly, nodding. "I'll put light weights on your legs to help build muscle."

        "Oh. That's... really smart. Huh. Why didn't I think of that?"

        He laughed, the joy on his face thoroughly comparable to the sun's bright warmth. Actually, it was probably even brighter than that. Kyojuro was a sun of his own; there was no need to compare him to another existing one. As he calmed down, his gaze flickered over to the silent boy at his side, and he perked up, as if it had finally occurred to him to introduce the other boy.

        "This"—he motioned to the boy, though mindful to never actually make unexpected contact with him—"is Iguro Obanai! He also wants to become a Demon Slayer!"

        "Oh, right. I was going to ask." They turned to address him directly. "Hi, Iguro. I'm Toktio [Name]. It's nice to meet you."

        They held out their hand as an offer, but he did not take it; they did not so much as flinch, merely letting their arm fall back to their side as they offered him a kind smile instead.

        "...You too," he finally said, nodding curtly. He was not the talkative type, it seemed.

        "Want to come on the run with us?" It seemed natural, effortless even, for them to ask such a thing. His preference towards being quiet had little to no impact on the way they treated him; though it did not show on his face, he was extremely grateful for that much. "Maybe if you come, Kyojuro won't be mean to me and put weights on my legs," they joked.

        "Haha!" the boy in question laughed again. "I'm still putting those weights on you."

        "Aw..."

        Obanai watched as they bantered with him, silently, weighing his options in his head. Something indecipherable flickered across his expression, but it was snuffed out as fast as it had shown itself. Bewilderment, discomfort, appreciation... it was hard to know what exactly he had felt in that moment, but it could not have been anything overwhelmingly bad, since the response that he gave made them beam:

        "...Sure."

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        Days were quick to become months.

        Kyojuro and Obanai would return to the Master's estate (with his permission and the guidance of many different Kakushi to keep the location a secret, of course) one or two times a week without fail to go on runs with them; it became something that could only be called a routine. Initially, the frequency of their friends'—were they friends with Obanai? They liked to think so; he seemed to slowly grow a bit warmer towards them the more he interacted with them—visits were much higher. It didn't particularly surprise them that the visits eventually dropped down to one or two weekly. It was difficult and time consuming to train.

        (Vaguely, they were reminded of how their visits to their home had dropped equally as significantly—they managed to go once every two weeks, if they were lucky. Usually, they were not, and their visits most commonly happened once every three weeks. The frequency of said visits would probably only continue to drop.

        ...They tried not to linger on it.)

        Around six months had passed since their arrival at the Ubuyashiki estate. They hadn't been counting particularly closely, too occupied by their training to pay it much mind.

        Crisp morning air enveloped their senses as they breathed out a gentle sigh. The sun had yet to rise, but they were already outside going about their preparations for the daily training they were committed to. The garden's stones dug into their knees, but they remained unbothered by it as they stretched their arm out and hooked their other arm's elbow around it, tugging their arm towards the opposite shoulder until their bones popped satisfyingly. The same treatment was given to their other arm.

        Just as they were about to get up, their ears picked up the sound of unfamiliar footsteps. It was easy to know who was walking and when—Kagaya's steps were light and tentative, while Amane's were also light but far more steady, and any one of the Kakushi's typically just sounded frantic and rapid as they dashed across the estate to attend to their duties. These steps were heavy , though nonetheless surprisingly quiet, as if the person they belonged to felt compelled to sneak around the estate instead of outright making their presence known. Subsequently, they turned their head back, curious about who else besides Kagaya, Amane, and some Kakushi was up and at the estate this early.

        A vaguely familiar hulking figure of a man, very clearly in his youth despite how utterly muscular he was, stood just beyond the sliding doors leading into the estate. Their expression rapidly shifted from brief surprise back to its usual look.

        "Hello," they greeted softly, offering him a smile, despite knowing that he most likely could not see it. They hoped that he felt it, at the very least. His reluctance to coexist in the same space as them did not go unnoticed, so they did their best to make him a little bit more comfortable. "I don't believe we've ever properly met."

        His greeting came slowly, hesitantly , even, as he seemed to scrutinize them despite being unable to really see them. Maybe he was looking for some kind of ill intent. Whatever it was that he was seeking, he did not seem to find it. "...Good morning," he replied. "No, we have not."

        "My name is Toktio [Name], Demon Slayer in training." They now fully turned to face him. "What's your name?"

        "Himejima Gyomei."

        "It's nice to meet you, then, Mr. Himejima." They then took note of his uniform. "Are you a Demon Slayer?"

        His tense demeanor seemed to ease up ever so slightly, and it was then that he stepped out onto the engawa, not quite approaching them but not quite avoiding them any longer either. He tucked his legs underneath his body as he sat down nearer to the edge and nodded. "Yes. Pay me no mind, I am merely enjoying the morning air."

        "Of course," they replied as they stood up, stretching their body further and humming at the sound of pops and cracks. With that, they set off, running laps around the garden. Running around the entire state was... perhaps within their abilities, but its expanse was great, and they still needed to warm up before they put their body through that kind of strain. To immediately begin with something so intense would be to injure their muscles. That was something they wanted to avoid, if at all possible.

        Thirty minutes into their laps (during which they were fairly certain Gyomei was watching them, but they did not mind) and they had lost count of how many they'd run. A huff slipped past their lips as they came to a stop, a few stones being flicked forwards due to the force with which they stopped. Their chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and they cursed themselves for having what they felt was poor stamina.

        It wasn't terribly poor, but they had been stuck at this level for about two months, and the lack of improvement was slowly driving them mad.

        Gyomei's voice cut through the morning ambiance.

        "Do you know Total Concentration Breathing?" the man spoke up, seeming to analyze their hunched-over figure as they caught their breath. Finally, once they did, they straightened up and replied:

        "No. I think I've heard of it... maybe..? I'm not too certain, to be honest," they admitted, chuckling, embarrassment evident in their tone. "I've read many of the books about breathing and breath styles, but I don't really remember a lot of it."

        The man nodded. For a moment, he was still. It was almost as if he were contemplating his next move. Then, he gingerly patted the space next to him, a wordless invitation extended their way. They were quick to climb up onto the engawa and sit next to him, though they did leave a bit of space between his body and theirs. He seemed to be rather kind but nonetheless very hesitant to trust them, so they wanted to ensure that they did not make him uncomfortable by overstepping any silent boundaries.

        A large hand hovered over their back.

        "Breathe deeply. Expand your lungs to the fullest extent that your body will allow." He paused. "...Further than that, in fact."

        "Further..?"

        "Further."

        Though hesitant, they earnestly doubted that his intentions were anything other than to help. Therefore, despite the nervousness that such a new (and painful sounding) concept instilled in them, they inhaled.

        And inhaled.

        And inhaled .

        The tightness in their chest almost deterred them, but Gyomei seemed to believe in their abilities despite not knowing them very well, so they felt that they should too. If nothing else, then they should at least try to.

        "Good. Release that breath slowly."

        Of course, that fact did not make it any less uncomfortable, so they were more than grateful to be permitted to let the breath out.

        He drew his hand away, allowing it to settle back into its previous position in his lap. "How did that feel?"

        An ache resounded through their chest cavity, and they grimaced, reaching up to rub at their breastbone through their clothes. "Achy. Overall, not terrible, but it makes my chest sore."

        "It should, and it will until you grow used to maintaining that state. Maintaining Total Concentration Breathing constantly, in and out of battle, in wakefulness and rest, is an advanced technique that will benefit you for years to come if you are able to master it."

        Eyes wide with awe at their newfound knowledge, they nodded. "I see..."

        "Go," he said, motioning to the practice sword they had left strewn off to the side. "Learn to put this skill into practice, young one."

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        About another hour passed.

        They were fairly sure that their lungs were about to explode and that their heart was climbing up their throat to leak out of their ears. The only sound ringing in their head was that of their racing heartbeat, and every breath they took was fire, searing the insides of their lungs and spreading to burn the entirety of their chest with its ferocity. 

        Gyomei had been kind enough to offer to train with them, and they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not using even a small portion of the strength that he was capable of exerting. It was easy to tell how much stronger he was compared to them. If his muscular build was already not enough of a clue, then the fact that he was easily able to cast a shadow over their entire body and then some would surely be an adequate indicator. He was larger and stronger than they would ever be. 

        Even so, he did not put out even a fraction of his strength, and that was something they were immensely thankful for. He must have been very aware of what he could do to another person, they thought, and yet... they did not feel threatened, not had he even hurt them in any way (not counting the radiating soreness of their muscles from parrying his strikes). It was admirable. If they ever grew to have even a quarter of his strength, they hoped they would also be that aware of what they were capable of.

        What an absolutely awe-inspiring man to train with.

        A gasp was torn from their throat, and their body folded forwards, one hand clasping itself over their mouth and the other one clutching their side. Their eyes squeezed shut as they coughed, choking up enough blood for it to spill from the slightest of cracks between their fingers.

        The man towering over them paused momentarily, but then placed a tentative hand on their back, soothingly rubbing away at the ache he knew for certain that they must have been feeling.

        It was not the first time they had spit up blood—it was one among many, in fact, but admittedly they did produce more than usual this time around.

        "It is normal to spit up blood when learning this technique for the first time," he murmured to them, seeming to tear up at their pain. "Do you feel otherwise unwell?"

        "No..." they huffed, slowly standing up straight as to not agitate their body any more than they already had. He passed them a cloth, just as he had done that time six months ago. They were quick to clean off their hand and face using it. "Thank you. No, I feel okay." Then, their eyes glimmering with hope and determination shifted up towards him. "Can we keep going?"

        For the first time, Gyomei smiled at them. It was soft and befitting of the type of person they believed him to be, but seeing it still astounded them in the best of ways, and they could not help but grin widely in return.

        "As long as you are feeling well, we may."

        If either party were aware of Kagaya's affectionate gaze, originating from an opening in the sliding doors just wide enough for him to sit comfortably and observe, neither paid any mind to it.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        For the next few months, Gyomei loyally continued to train with them, guiding their every movement and assisting them in growing stronger. Subsequently, he also began to train them harder as he found himself needing to put more force behind blocking their attacks and landing some of his own. It was a source of great pride in his mind—a young one such as themselves growing strong enough (though ultimately still as weak as a tiny kitten in comparison to him) to where he could feel the impact of their strikes?

        Yes, Himejima Gyomei was extremely proud of their growth.

        Still, he was as conscientious as ever, and he never wounded them too terribly. The worst he had ever given them was a large bruise on their side that bloomed on their skin the day after he had hit them; he had wept that day, guilt-ridden when he discovered it, though they had insisted that it was alright. His sensitivity was something they quite adored, though they sincerely wished he would not drown himself in guilt over something like that. 'It's only natural to get hurt while training,’ they had insisted. 'I'm not mad at you, and I'm not hurt that bad. If anything, I'm glad, because all it means is that you're taking me more seriously now! And anyway, it's kind of my fault... I hesitated. You told me not to, and I got hurt. That's on me... Next time I won't make that mistake!'

        In that time, they had also worked extremely rigorously on learning the forms of Mist Breathing. Kagaya still had little news in regards to Sun Breathing, so instead, he often spent time correcting their stances based on what he had seen others do in the past.

        'Utilize your entire body. If your goal is to defend yourself from projectiles, then you must be able to slash a large area and do so with great strength. This is only possible by using every part of yourself—not merely your arms alone.'

        'Don't be afraid to lower your body as far as possible, young one. You will not fall, and if you do, then you must learn not to. Balance, I have observed, is greatly important in learning Mist Breathing. You must maintain great control over your body at all times.'

         'Learn to move swiftly and change directions equally so. I'm fairly certain that no amount of training will prepare you for the moment you must do so in battle while also delivering continuous slashes, but it does help.'

        The kindness of all those around them was oftentimes overwhelming, though not in a negative manner. It simply made them so, so deeply grateful that the people of the Corps were so earnestly good. It made them all the more dedicated to the cause, the goal of the Demon Slayer Corps.

        The months passed rapidly. With how hard they were working, it was no surprise.

        The Final Selection seemed so far away at one point, but the morning they needed to leave for it had finally arrived.

        The Ubuyashiki estate was considerably active, even in the early morning. It was unsurprising; it did function as the headquarters of the Demon Slayer Corps. So long as demon activity failed to cease, so too would the operations taking place within the estate they had grown so familiar with.

        Getting ready on that morning in particular was nerve-wracking. Their fingers trembled as they secured their clothes around their body and grabbed their shoes to bring with them outside. Anxiety and anticipation mingled together in their chest, despite breathing so deeply all the time. Deep breathing was said to be useful in calming oneself down, but now, it did naught to soothe their nerves.

        They supposed that was fair. What they were preparing to walk into was no normal event—it was life or death, the ultimate triumph or ultimate failure. There was no margin for error. As such, they did believe that their fear was valid.

        As they delicately traversed the halls, seeking to not disturb anyone else who may have been resting, many Kakushi wished them well, and all they could muster was a nervous smile in response each time.

        'You'll do great.'

        'Good luck, kid!'

         'Come back to us alive, yeah?'

        Once they quietly stepped out of the estate and onto the engawa, gingerly closing the sliding doors behind them with their one freehand, they were greeted by Amane, Kagaya, and Gyomei.

        Gyomei was the first to speak. His eyes shone in the dim morning light with the gloss of tears yet to be shed. "I will pray for your safety," he had said, large hand situating itself firmly on their head for a moment before withdrawing. They smiled up at him.

        "Thank you for everything you have done for me thus far."

        It was at that point that the tears finally fell. They reached up, placing a gentle hand on his arm as a momentary expression of comfort. After a few seconds, they pulled away, turning to Amane and Kagaya. 

        In the Master's hands was a nichirin blade.

        "You may borrow this blade until you receive yours," he said, holding it out to them. With what was probably excessive caution, they took it, gazing at him with awe in their eyes. They knew he was going to give them one; he'd told them in advance and even provided a sheath for it, but somehow they still believed that nothing could have prepared them for the moment they had it in their hands. He smiled kindly. "Come back safely, [Name]. We believe in you."

        Newfound determination bubbled in their chest. "I will," they replied, sheathing the blade.

        Amane's demeanor, though professional and smooth as ever, was warmly fond, as was the smile she directed at them. "Good luck, young one," she began. "I am sure that you will make us all proud. I will see you at Mount Fujikasane."

        That surprised them more than anything else, really, and they're sure it showed in their expression, because she immediately went on to explain.

        "I will be initiating this Final Selection. You will see me at the beginning and end."

        "I see," they replied. "Well... I'll be off, then!"

        With that, they stepped off of the engawa, waving at those behind them with a bright smile. Finally, they put their shoes on.

        Then, as they had said, they were off.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        For the location of the final selection, Mount Fujikasane was astoundingly beautiful.

        Wisteria trees went up the mountain as far as they could see from the angle they were at, the purple flowers seeming to glimmer bathed in the moon's gentle light. The stone steps leading up to where they assumed they were meant to head were in considerably mixed condition; some appeared to be stunningly pristine, as if they had only just been laid down, while others looked as if they would crumble at the slightest weight placed upon them.

        Petals tickled their cheeks as they made their way upwards in something of a daze, overwhelmed by the intensely strong scent filling their lungs to the brim (it was hardly any wonder demons did not dare cross the threshold of the flowers; they knew it was deeper than simply disliking the scent, but honestly, they're fairly certain that they would not tread through a path so heavily draped in wisteria either, since the smell could be immensely overpowering). The feather-light touch was soft and soothing, almost comparable to the touch of a loving parent caressing their child's face.

        Bumping into someone's back was what snapped them out of the dazed state they were in. A surprised squeak was drawn from their throat, and they immediately stepped back to put appropriate space between themselves and whoever they had run into. 

        "I'm so sorry," they apologized, a tentative smile gracing their features as he turned to face them, peach-colored hair swaying somewhat as he did. It was then that the massive scar running along his right cheek came into their view, and they stumbled briefly, before recovering from their shock as fast as they could manage. "I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been.

        It was a young boy, presumably around their age, that they had run into. His pale lavender eyes seemed to burn with determination, only being illuminated even further by the glow of the surrounding wisteria. Situated on the side of his face was a fox mask. At his side stood a boy with a far more timid demeanor with deep blue eyes, vaguely reminiscent of the ocean, and black hair tied back into a short ponytail. The former studied them for a quick moment, before grinning. "Don't worry about it," he said, offering a hand for them to shake. They gladly took his offer. "I'm Sabito. This is Tomioka Giyu."

        "It's nice to meet you two, Sabito, Giyu," they greeted kindly, smile now growing more certain and confident. "My name is Tokito [Name]."

        Upon completing their ascension up the stairs, all of their confidence dissipated in an instant. Sabito did not neglect to notice.

        "Nervous?" he wondered.

        "A little," they admitted with a shaky laugh. "I mean, who wouldn't be? This is pretty huge. It's the kind of event that determines your future. I feel like it's only reasonable to be a bit afraid."

        Sabito nodded.

        "Yeah. It's an understandable reaction. Keep your head up; I don't doubt that we'll all be fine."

        "You're right. Suppose being nervous won't do much other than hinder me, right?"

        "Exactly."

        Nervousness somewhat—though not entirely—sated, they nodded. Before they got the chance to reply again, to continue the conversation they were having with Sabito, they took notice of Amane stepping into view of the crowd of around twenty Demon Slayers to-be. Her eyes seemed to thoroughly scan the crowd; it was as if she was searching for someone. When her gaze finally landed on them, her lips pulled upwards into the vague ghost of a smile, and they could not help but return it—simply with a far more blatant grin and wave.

        Giyu glanced towards them. For the first time since they had met him and his friend, he spoke to them: "Do you know her?" he wondered softly, as to not speak over her, should she begin to talk.

        "Yes," they confirmed. "She is Lady Ubuyashiki Amane, the Master's wife. She and her husband are both really nice people."

        Sabito immediately turned to look at them. "You know the Master?"

        "I live with him, for now."

         "What?!"

        Their smile suddenly became shier, though that did not stop them from giggling a little bit. A twinge of embarrassment was more than clear in their voice, but it was largely overwhelmed by amusement. "It's only a temporary thing..."

        "I've only heard legends about that guy. It's apparently rare that people get to see him," the peach-haired boy mused, "and you live with him?"

        "For now."

        Before either boy could say something—Giyu looked as if he was going to, but they couldn't be sure, since he did not have the chance to—Amane began to speak.

        "Good evening, everyone," she greeted, the gentle tones of her voice seeming to be carried across the crowd by little more than the wind. A hush fell over the crowd, chatter dying down into nothing more than a few whispers here and there. "Thank you for finding the time to attend the Final Selection tonight. On this mountain, there are many demons, who were all captured alive by our most talented Demon Slayer swordsmen. These demons are unable to leave."

        She gracefully motioned to the many wisteria trees.

        "This is because wisteria, which demons hate so much, blooms year-round from the foot of the mountain to approximately halfway up. From this point upwards, there is no longer any wisteria. In order to pass the Final Selection, you will need to survive for seven days."

        She then turned somewhat, motioning to either side of the platform she was on before her hands settled back, neatly tucked at the front of her body. "Now, be on your way. Good luck."

        There was widespread hesitance among the crowd. Some seemed to be reconsidering their choices. Others simply seemed understandably frightened, though did not look as if they were about to flee back to their home. Still, they eventually began to filter through either entrance and disperse.

        Before they could follow along, Sabito turned to them, holding out a hand. "Let's stick together, Tokito."

        They grinned, giving his hand a firm shake. "I should hope you aren't saying that just because I live with the Master," they teased. "I don't think you get special privileges for knowing me, since I don't get that treatment either."

        He laughed.

        "Hardly. I was just surprised; I don't particularly care. What I do care about is surviving, and we're all far more likely to if we tackle this event as a group." He stopped speaking, but then added on, "Good that the Master doesn't treat you any differently though. It tells me a lot about him as a person."

        "Well, I do hope it tells you good things. Anyways, you're certainly right about that," they agreed, attention shifting to Giyu. "Do you mind me coming along with you guys?"

        He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then paused for a brief moment, as if thinking. Then, he shook his head, offering them the slightest of smiles. "That's fine by me."

        Sabito nodded firmly, determination seeming to emanate from his being. "Right. Then, let's get going."

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        "What breathing styles do you guys use?"

        Hushed, quiet chatter was surprisingly common among the little group that they had found themselves a part of; they imagined that Sabito would be far more stringent about staying focused, that he'd think it impossible to converse so casually while also remaining completely alert, but they turned out to be quite wrong. He was actually quite willing to engage, quite the talker if given the opportunity to be so.

        Therefore, they did not feel nervous or awkward asking a question of their own.

        "Water breathing," Giyu answered just as quietly as they had asked.

        "Oh, that's cool," they mused, grip firm around the handle of their sheathed blade, ready to unsheathe it at a moment's notice. "You know, I was thinking about learning Water Breathing, since I genuinely didn't know what style I should pursue. The Master said there was even an active trainer for it."

        "Yeah, that's Mr. Urokodaki," Sabito said. "Apparently he was a Hashira before! I think he retired a while ago. Anyway, we both use Water Breathing, and we learned it from him."

        "Maybe I would have met you two before if I had decided to learn that style, huh?"

        The lavender-eyed boy nodded. "It's definitely not unlikely," he agreed. "What style did you end up learning, then?"

        Just as they opened their mouth to respond, the snap of a twig resounded through the relative silence, alerting all three of them without fail. It seemed to come from behind. With practiced speed and precision, their blade was unsheathed in an instant. Sabito and Giyu both followed suit on what seemed to be mostly instinct. The group turned to face whatever it was that had been trailing behind for—presumably—quite some time now.

        In their chest, their heart seemed to pound sporadically as their mind tried to figure out whether to be terrified or excited . They lowered their body close to the ground in preparation to deliver what was to come to the foul thing before them, adjusting their footing when they felt even a little bit unbalanced.

        It was as Kagaya had told them, indeed.

        The demon paid them no mind. A fatal, irreversible mistake on its behalf.

        "Aw, man," a hoarse voice drawled, sounding thoroughly disgruntled over its mistake. Unnaturally slender, lengthy limbs seemed to drag on the floor as it moved. Sharp nails reached up to scratch its cheek. "Shoulda been paying more attention... Oh well, I'll be eating well tonight anywa—"

        Mist Breathing, Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Slash.

        Its head rolled off in an instant, leaving it with no chance to finish whatever it was going to say. Pride swelled in their chest as they stood straight once more, sheathing their blade as they did. There was no suppressing the giddy smile on their face as they turned back to their companions.

        Behind them, the demon—astounded by its easy defeat and dreading its rapidly approaching arrival to Hell—dissipated into nothing but ash to be blown away by the nighttime breeze.

        "Mist Breathing," they answered Sabito's question cheekily, as if they did not just produce a great show of strength. "I taught it to myself."

        Both boys turned to one another, making eye contact, as if to ask one another 'What just happened?'

        Then, Sabito turned to them, positively grinning .

        "That was so impressive. You didn't even hesitate . I barely saw you move."

        "I was taught not to," they giggled, suddenly feeling extremely sheepish. "Hesitating gives your enemy a chance to hurt or even kill you. No hesitating—I learned that the hard way. And I was taught by someone so much stronger than me, probably stronger than I'll ever be, so if I couldn't reflect his strength at least a little bit, I would be ashamed..."

        Neither boy could get another word out before the distant cry for help from another Slayer to-be reached their group's ears.

        In an instant, they all took off running in the direction of the call.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        Sabito, as an individual, turned out to be quite similar to themselves.

        He was a boy with a great sense of justice, always seeking to send as many demons to the afterlife as he could manage, always seeking to protect as many of his fellow Demon Slayer trainees. Giyu was also more than happy to follow along, though they did not fail to notice how nervous he seemed to be regarding how willing his friend was to fling himself into danger. He nonetheless seemed to care just as much about the safety of others as his friend did—he merely expressed more caution.

        It was understandable, really. The only real way to "fail" the Final Selection would be to die .

        Giyu, no doubt, would not want to see such a fate befall his friend. They therefore felt that it was only right for them to back Sabito and Giyu up as closely as possible and cover their blind spots with only the utmost effort.

        After all, they also weren't especially keen on seeing either of their new friends die. It was in their nature to help people—it always had been. It was just how they were raised.

        Given that fact, it was hardly any surprise that most of their time with the two ended up being spent rescuing others during the nights and sleeping in shifts during the day.

        (There were more than sufficient trees to create lines of shade for demons to stalk safely through during the day, so sleeping two at a time with one serving as a guard was the most effective way to ensure that no-one got hurt. There were quite a few instances of other sleeping Slayers being attacked during the day due to such methods, which made theirs and their friends' sleep rather... poor. None complained, however. Saving a life was worth being a bit sleep deprived.)

        Spending so much time in their company also allowed them to learn a bit more about the duo.

        Giyu was quite the quiet child—always following along, silently focused, though Sabito had told them that he was just shy, really. He was far more joyfully expressive in Sabito's sole presence, though he did seem to be gradually warming up to them and their presence. They probably just made him a bit nervous, being a stranger and all.

        Sabito, on the other hand, was far more bold and confident in his ways. He was quite the stern one when it came to slaying demons and staying alert. He did not seem to take cowardice lightly. They vaguely wondered if Yuichiro would grow up to be something like him; that boy was terribly stern when he wanted to be for a child his age.

        (Somehow, they hoped that Yuichiro would grow up to be a bit more lenient, because they felt that if he did not, they would be in trouble once he was old enough to properly stand up to them...)

        The moon was slowly but surely approaching the horizon, making way for the sun to rise once again and mark their final day on the mountain. Sabito's attentive nature meant that, if they were not saving another person from demons, they were patrolling the circumference of the mountain as thoroughly as possible. He could perhaps even be called restless; they did not particularly mind, however, and Giyu seemed to be very used to it, so they assumed that such behaviors were normal for him.

        "It's almost the seventh day, right?" they mused aloud, peering up at the star-riddled sky swirling with various shades of blue, all gradually growing lighter near the east horizon from which the sun would rise.

        "That's right," Sabito confirmed. "We get to leave tomorrow morning."

        "Then... once the Final Selection is over, would you two like to keep in touch?"

        Giyu seemed to perk up at that, and—surprisingly—was the first to reply. "I would like that."

        The other boy nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. Maybe we'll get assigned missions together in the future?"

        "I'm glad, the—"

        A shrill scream cut them off, and all of the group's blades were unsheathed in the blink of an eye. Sabito ran off in the direction it originated from first with them and Giyu following close behind.

        "A large demon!" a boy shrieked, his feet pounding desperately against the dirt and grass as he fled. He looked down, almost seeming to curse his body for being unable to run any more swiftly, before turning his head back towards whatever was chasing him. Wide eyes dilated with fear only seemed to widen impossibly more as he whipped his head back forward and focused on fleeing. "No-one told us there would be one this big here! What the hell?!"

        A green, vaguely circular amalgamation of hands with a head poking out from what must have been the top chased slowly after the boy, though its utter size made it easy for it to keep up its pursuit. A large body like its own could cover significant ground with one or two steps—significantly more than what a small, inexperienced Demon Slayer in training could.

        Hands shot out to grab the poor boy. Just as one wrapped around his leg, Giyu tried to react, dashing forward and—

        He was flicked away in an instant like nothing more than an annoying fly, his body slamming violently against a tree, though the demon did release the boy from its grip when its attention had briefly shifted. 

        The boy then continued to run, and the demon continued to pursue.

        "Sabito!" they called out, rushing over to Giyu's side to support the trembling boy, quickly putting their blade back away. Blood dripped down from his hairline, and they panicked. "He's bleeding! He has a head injury!"

        Lavender eyes stared motionlessly for a moment. Then, his expression hardened, as did his grip on his blade. "Get him out of here!" he yelled, turning to run in the direction the demon went. "Go!"

        "I can't—" they gasped as Giyu pulled forward somewhat, reaching out towards his friend desperately. However, they were far stronger than he was (a pang of fear rippled through their chest as that reality settled in— they were stronger than Giyu, and probably Sabito, too) , and they gripped his injured body tightly, unwilling to let him stumble into danger. "No, we can't leave you!"

        "Get the hell out of here!"

        "N— no—" Giyu gasped, barely conscious or coherent.

        In that moment, it became blatantly clear to them that they had no other choice. They could not leave Giyu vulnerable and chase after Sabito, but they also knew there was no way possible for Giyu to walk on his own, let alone keep up with them. He needed to rest for the remainder of the Selection, not chase after Sabito with them. 

        ...But they could not do those two things at once, and Sabito entrusted Giyu's safety to them . If they could not chase after him, then at the very least, they could fulfill his wishes. They had to protect Giyu.

        With that thought in mind, they hoisted the boy up, situating him on their back before hooking their arms underneath his thighs and dashing away. His sword was forgotten, left behind exactly where he had dropped it in the grass when he was injured. It was the only remaining thing that indicated that their group had ever been there in the first place.

        As they dashed away, they could only hope Sabito knew what he was doing.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

        Bright blues, characteristic of the daytime, danced in the sky, mingling in with wispy clouds.

        "Morning already..." they murmured to themselves, peering down at Giyu's unconscious—but alive, thankfully—body. His head rested comfortably in their lap. It was better than leaving him to sleep on the cold, dirty ground, and it didn't bother them at all. Their brothers tended to sleep on them all the time when they were ill, so letting their injured friend do it was almost like second nature.

        The night passed with no sign of Sabito. In fact, they didn't even hear a single sound all night; it had been eerily still and silent. Then, the seventh day arrived, and there was still no sign of him. The seventh night came and passed in the same manner. When the sun rose on the eighth morning—the day they were to descend the mountain—there was still nothing. Throughout it all, Giyu remained unconscious.

        How they wished that wasn't so. They could not help but wonder how he would process the tragedy when he was informed of it. For now, though, he simply continued to sleep through it all, unaware of what was going on around him.

        Right after they had taken him away from the area in which everything happened, they discovered a river and used it to cleanse his wound, though they had nothing to wrap it in. Something was better than nothing, they supposed; at least it was temporarily cleansed of dirt and debris, thereby lowering the risk of infection.

        With a sigh, they stood up, gingerly moving the boy's wounded head from their lap as they did. He did not even stir.

        ...Was that worrying? God, they hoped he was okay.

        "Up you go, Tomioka," they whispered as they hoisted him up onto their back, much like they had done on the sixth night. "Maybe we'll see Sabito down there..?"

        Something deep down inside of them knew better, but they still clung onto the hope that maybe, just maybe , he was alive and simply could not find them and chose to descend on his own.

        Tears of frustration welled in their eyes, but they were quick to blink them away as they began to walk. Grass, leaves, and sticks crunched and cracked underneath their reluctant steps.

        A person with so much strength... someone like them should have been able to do something. How many times had Gyomei praised their strength? How many times had they trained until their arms felt just about ready to fall off, until blood seeped from their lips, until their ears rang loudly? How well-prepared were they for this event? Hell, how likely was it that anyone else knew Total Concentration Breathing: Constant?

        They were undoubtedly the most ready for the Final Selection.

        So much strength and so much preparation—it was very possible that they were the strongest person on the mountain that week, and yet...

        And yet they were helpless to save Sabito.

         'So much for protecting everyone,' they thought bitterly as they finally arrived at the wisteria tree threshold, stepping carefully down the stairs onto the platform at which everyone had begun. 

        Many pairs of eyes stared at them in anticipation, and they stared back, scanning the crowd.

        "Where's Sabito?"

        Everyone was there. Everyone except for Sabito . Many faces in the crowd fell upon seeing that there was no-one else with them.

        "We were hoping he would have been with one of you, but if you two are here, then..." one murmured.

        "Then, that's everyone except for Sabito."

        "Yeah..."

        "I see," they murmured. "...May he rest in peace. Many of us probably wouldn't be here if not for him."

        Murmurs of downcast agreement rolled across the crowd in waves. Sabito's contribution to the exceedingly high turnout was undeniable; that boy, that just and righteous boy, had saved an outstanding number of people throughout the length of the week.

        For that, everyone was grateful.

        Amane's presence alone hushed everyone almost instantly, though it did very little to ease the somber mood of their fellow Demon Slayers. They walked up to her. They knew that they probably should have waited, but Giyu was still injured. How much longer could they wait before his injury turned for the worst? They were not keen on pushing their luck and finding out.

        "Lady Amane," they greeted, bowing at the waist level despite the weight on their back. They huffed as they straightened out their spine. She met their gaze, concern evident—at least, to them—in her eyes. "He has a head injury. He otherwise performed well, so— so I hope this does not mean that he has failed, but..."

        "I understand. You need not explain to me; every member of the Corps will attain injuries at one point or another, but that does not make them any less valuable of a swordsman," she said, softly cutting them off. With a simple wave of her hand, two Kakushi dashed to her side. Where did they even come from? They decided that it was better not to ask, since it wasn't really a priority to know where those two had magically manifested from. She turned to them. "Take this boy to the nearest Wisteria House for immediate medical treatment."

        "Yes, Lady Amane," the two said in unison. Giyu was removed from their back before they could even process what happened. The Kakushi dashed away with him, leaving them standing there dazed and shocked at how utterly fast they moved under Amane's command.

        She nodded to them. They took that as their sign to return to their place among their peers.

        "Congratulations on surviving," she began. "First, I will take your measurements for your uniforms and have your ranks engraved. There are ten ranks in total—Mizunoto, Mizunoe, Kanoto, Kanoe, Tsuchinoto, Tsuchinoe, Hinoto, Hinoe, Kinoto, and Kinoe. You are currently the lowest rank, Mizunoto. Today, you will choose the ore that will be used to forge your blades." She tugged a cloth off of a nearby large table with a graceful flick of the wrist, revealing various ores on top of it. "The blade itself will take anywhere from ten to fifteen days to complete. Now, we will assign you a Kasugai crow."

        Crows circled above, cawing as they all glided or barreled down towards their respective masters. It must have been dependent on the birds' individual personalities, they thought; hopefully theirs did not end up being one of the more... aggressive crows. Theirs, thankfully, was gentle and delicate in its landing on their outstretched arm. It seemed cautious, wishing not to dig its nails into their skin and bring them harm. Purely white wings fluttered as it landed, tucking into its equally snow white body once it had made itself comfortable. Inquisitive, piercing red eyes stared into theirs.

        "You're pretty," they cooed, steadying their voice as much as they possibly could despite the sense of grief weighing on their chest. With their freehand, they reached up, gingerly stroking the calm crow's feathers. "Fuyuki... How do you feel about that name? Is that okay?"

        The crow merely gave a curt nod of approval.

        "Fuyuki it is, then," they murmured, gently ushering the bird to their shoulder. It obliged, resting on their shoulder rather than their arm. Then, Amane began to speak once more:

        "You may now choose your ores."

reblogs with comments or tags > likes. tags: @soleillunne <3

[knightinsourarmor]

test / under request muses

Muses you can ask for and chances are I’ll attempt to write. All my muses can be found here.

Bahar Yavuzoğlu (Bahar, Turkish TV Drama)

Uraraka Ochako (BNHA)

Suguro Geto (JJK) (AU: Jujutsu Sorcerer)

Tokito Muichiro (KNY)

Kanroji Mitsuri (KNY)

Christian Troy (Nip/Tuck)

Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Minamoto Kou (TBHK)

[kagakumo]

a study of ... APATHY, the love for everyone, in search of lilies, the messenger, raised as god, inhumanity, the beauty in being human, the fear of death, welcoming death as much as life, craving family.

kimetsu no yaiba DEMON SLAYER multimuse frozen by nami

basic rules!!

this blog is not spoiler free!! i will be tagging all of my threads and posts that have spoilers with "kny spoilers" so just block that if you aren't caught up!!

i am not my muses!! please don't equate the beliefs of my muses to my own :'D

i won't hold back my muses, especially my villains.

you are welcome to injure and kill my muses!! all i ask us that we plot it out!!

formatting wise i use small text and i italicize my dialogue. let me know if you need normal sized text or anything else adjusted c:

nami is a freelance animator actively looking for jobs, so my activity might be spotty!!

i will never rush you for a reply. i will wait forever and a half and even longer!! we all have lives outside of rp and this should be a hobby, not a job! so no stress c: let's have fun and write our silly guys!!

muse list

canon.

doma | upper moon | primary

rui | lower moon | primary

kagaya ubuyashiki | demon slayer corp | primary

aoba hashibiri | botanist | primary

muichiro tokito | hashira | secondary

kokushibo | upper moon | secondary

oc.

silva | sun-eyed demon | primary

[itashiro-hitsuchiha]

New OC on the horizon

Because I have a character creation problem. I figured I'd do some more tinkering on an idea. A brother for my Bleach OC Haruka. Cuz we need more boys on the muse list. Can you guess what the face claim is for him? If you said another demon slayer character, you'd be right. (Not my fault they have near perfect design for Soul Reaper characters XD) Specifically I'll be going with Muichiro Tokito for the inspiration and foundation for this character. More info to be added later. Let me know if you're interested and if you are curious about anything regarding him. XD

[ask-the-hashira]

Welcome!

This is a roleplay blog dedicated to the Nine Hashira (and Kagaya!) from Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba! 

This blog will most likely drabble with manga spoilers! Stay safe!

You can ask all together, one character in particular, or a few select people at once! Please clarify when asking who it is you’re speaking to.

RULES (READ BEFORE SENDING ASK)

Character info links are listed below!

❆ Kagaya Ubayashiki

❆ Gyomei Himejima

❆ Sanemi Shinazugawa 

❆ Mitsuri Kanroji

❆ Kyoujuro Rengoku ❆ Tengen Uzui

❆ Shinobu Kocho

❆ Giyuu Tomioka

❆ Muichiro Tokito

❆ Obanai Iguro

Out of roleplay/mod’s tag: #muse-talks

[kits-ships]

more google translate

[Saena goes to Ananta’s house to look for the moon. ]

The Senate decided: Do you have any questions now? How can I find anything here? !

[With the room on the right covered in sweat and blood, he arrives in time to find Duma dead of pneumonia. She held his head and looked at him and his limp body as tears streamed down her face.

If: A thousand steps…? [Bring her head close to his and pet her until she calms down. Her eyes filled with tears. ]

The Senate decided: You’ll have to wait for me. What would I do without you? Who am I without you? (Two young men are watching him, smiling.)

Consider this: Unity; [Sana turns to them. ]

Inosuke looked into her eyes and thought: In four hours? ! What does it say?

Consider this: Not you…

Canada: Tokito’s partner? ! [Looks at your real name with interest, then turns away. ]

The Senate decided: Don't tell him. (wait) Who? Tokyo;

Inosuke thought: to leave

Consider this: I have to fight -

[Cena shrugs and raises his hands above his head as if to speak. ]

The Senate decided: [Turns and runs out of the room. The girls giggled as he entered the Infinity Castle. ] Tokito. Tokyo.

[First, you have to escape the castle. ]

The Senate decided: My name is Nat. April Brad Kirkus. But… there’s more. 【Looks like you heard something. It smells like blood. damn you He looked around the garden and saw Guozhibu and Zhu. Guozhi had turned into a monster, and the two little assassins fell to their deaths. Her dark hair was dyed pink and the sight of it made her smile. Yoshimi started laughing as he turned to Kakuchibo. Cena gets angry and runs at them, dropping his stuff. ]

[Saneya breaks down, Yoshimi looks at Sen as blood drips onto his kimono. Oh, now he knew he shouldn't hurt them. ION doesn’t allow them. Sanami wakes up and talks about Genia while Sena looks at her dead brother. ]

On the back, a picture: Go, God! Please, my brothers! Please!

GOMEI approaches him quietly until GENYA is satisfied.

clothes: Enjoy Nasukawa River. Look up. [They all turn to you. He was still looking at his brother's body. Even if there’s blood everywhere, he doesn’t care].

On topic: Greetings, Sī Akali Aloo! [Sena finally turns towards them, faceless but eyes open. for ions. Sanemi had a chance to respond, but Giomi put a hand on his shoulder. It’s not a choice. He can't do that. He didn't understand. Who speaks it? No; who doesn’t love MUICHIRO? Oh my god, what happened? He looked down at his hands and his old friend. there are a lot of them. To Sanem’s surprise, the top four left. ]

[Cena doesn’t kill him, but that doesn’t save him from going berserk when he finds out Muse has survived. Still distraught and excited, he drew his sword and dismissed the men. But instead of attacking, he placed the Hirano Katana on the right side of his chest and began to use it on his body. In his mind, he committed seppuku and in theory he stabbed her to death. Sanami then appears, grabs her sword and screams.