Chapter Text
Giyuu
“It’s amazing! It’s really amazing! My recovery speed is increasing! Don’t you think that’s amazing, Giyuu-san?”
Tanjiro had been blabbering on for what Giyuu suspected was around ten minutes. Sometimes, the boy never found himself running out of topics to assault Giyuu’s ears with, which reminded him of a certain Love Hashira. They’d been moving at a steady pace to compensate with Tanjiro’s leg still being in a cast, a factor he was very conscious of, ever since he’d been lectured by Kocho about it– even though this trip hadn’t in the slightest been of his creation. He exhaled a soundless sigh and kept his gaze steady on the horizon line.
“Last time I was injured like this I was bed ridden for two months but now it’s only taken me four days to recover to an awake standard. Shinobu-san believes that I’m on my way to Hashira level strength because Tokito-kun and Kanroji-san are already healed and up after just two days. She is slightly concerned at the rapid increase and said that I’m fighting too many tough battles, but we’ll never defeat Muzan if we don’t fight tough, right? Right, Giyuu-san? Shinobu-san said you’d agree with me. Giyuu-saaaan! Are you listening?” Tanjiro hobbled quicker to match Giyuu’s increased speed, his crutch crunching against the dirt ground. Giyuu exhaled another breath and looked at the beaming face of Tanjiro out of the corner of his eye. Did he ever quit…? “I’m listening.”
The hand not occupied with the crutch raised to rub the back of his cherry-red hair. “Ey? You must be an amazing listener! You’re even better than Nezuko! When we were children, she was really quiet, but always said the right thing at the right time. In comparison with everyone else in our family, Nezuko was always the quietest, and since she has that bamboo in her mouth, I’ve barely heard her for over two years, but its so great that now she’s learning to talk! Isn’t that great, Giyuu-san? I’d nearly forgotten what she sounded like.” Tanjiro went straight back to yammering, switching from topic to topic faster than Giyuu could even process. How had they gone from medicine to recovery time to Nezuko’s speaking predicament? Giyuu raised his eyes slightly from the horizon-line, attempting to rerun the past one-sided conversation as Tanjiro spoke on. Now he wasn’t really paying attention, only offering a reply when the boy asked him if he was listening or not.
Giyuu hadn’t been imagining his day would run any different than it usually did, and he hadn’t been imagining that Tanjiro would come hobbling up to his front door, suggesting that they go collect the medical supplies Kocho found herself mysteriously out of. Giyuu had wanted to protest it, because surely, the Insect Hashira was more than capable of going herself, but she’d had an influx of patients to take care of what with Tanjiro’s friends returning from missions of their own so she hadn’t a minute to spare. Plus… Tanjiro was a very persistent boy and had followed him around for most of the day, trying to get him to accompany him. Why couldn’t he employ anyone else? Why was he the best option? Surely the Love or Mist Hashiras would have been thrilled to spend more time with the boy they both fancied so much. Perhaps it was because they were recently recovered. Giyuu hummed out loud, having forgotten for a moment that he was still being followed around by Tanjiro, only they were approaching the city now.
“Woah! Its so big? I didn’t think it would be this big. It’s almost the size of the entertainment district!” Giyuu didn’t agree with him, he’d had the chance to visit the entertainment district Tanjiro was gushing over for a mission, and it had definitely been bigger, busier and brighter. He adjusted the position of his head to look up at the lanterns with scented wisteria filtering out of them. Due to being so close in proximity to the Demon Slayer Corps’ headquarters, Oyakata-sama had instructed the neighbouring villages to prepare themselves for demon invasions, thus prompting the wisteria. Of course, most of the residents weren’t actually aware that they shared the planet with demons, they believed it was for a cultural reason. Though, occasionally, demon slayers would find themselves taking up residences in villages such as these for healing purposes. It wasn’t a common practise however, which was why Giyuu couldn’t sense any of their presences.
Along with the employment of wisteria, Oyakata-sama had enforced the rule of restriction; meaning no man, woman or child could leave the house past sunset unless of the unlikely event they were a demon slayer. Although, there was always one of those rebels that snuffed out the wisteria and broke the curfew rule, which ultimately led them to their predictable demise. Giyuu hadn’t personally observed this take place, he’d overheard it from Iguro who’d been so angered by people’s reactions that he’s purposefully left one of the boy’s corpses in the streets instead of allowing the Kakushi to clean it up. Naturally, that hadn’t flown too well.
Some of the amber glowing lanterns that did not possess any wisteria were cascading light down into the dirt-streets below, almost as a replacement for the sun, whose golden dew drops of sunlight were slowly being consumed by the dark, shadowy mountains that surrounded the area. As the sky was a light peach colour, the town still had fair amounts of activity, much to Giyuu’s dismay. “This is amazing!” Tanjiro gushed, waving to a passing woman and her small child. The woman smiled in surprise and waved back before hurrying down the streets gushing about the politeness of Tanjiro. Judging by the boy’s unwavering ecstatic energy, Giyuu suspected he hadn’t heard the woman. They kept moving through the haphazardly arranged city, the amber light growing more abundant as the sun slid further out of view. Giyuu eyed it wearily. Even though the city was engulfed in a barely visible sheet of wisteria, a lurking demon was still on the spectrum, especially as they’d be out of the city for at least twenty minutes, taking in account of Tanjiro’s leg.
His gaze filtered between the two objects for a moment. They should remain relatively hale, he doubted a stray demon would be spotted in such a remote location devoid of humans. They kept moving.
“It’s beautiful! The architecture is simply stunning!” Tanjiro was blabbering to no one in particular, but a random man in a grey haori stopped to explain the history of the carved archway Tanjiro had been admiring. Giyuu wasn’t about to stay around for that when he was on a deadline and Kocho was involved. He left the boy with the man and carefully plucked the thin, stained material of his map from a pocket inside the side of his haori. He pulled it out so it unfolded neatly and scanned the surroundings areas. He’d have to be quick about it, and precise.
Tanjiro met back up with him the moment the medicine was purchased and Giyuu found himself wondering exactly why the boy had decided to tag along in the first place. “You found it?” Tanjiro was asking, his hands forming into small fists which he waved around in the air. Giyuu stared at him for a moment, “Yes…” he answered, becoming very much aware of the rapidly decreasing amount of sunlight at their disposal. The amber of the lanterns acted in its stead, but even the rows of them could not match the power that the sun held. He didn’t understand why the city’s people bothered. If it was to create an atmosphere of warmness and comfort they failed. Giyuu only felt on edge. Though he suspected that Tanjiro did not share his worries or short-comings.
“It’s such a shame! We should come back here another time, hm, Giyuu-san? We could get soba! Or some simmered salmon with daikon!” Tanjiro smiled up as they made their way out of the city’s protective sheet. People’s wooden doors were clicking into place and the amber lanterns were being taken down behind them. Giyuu observed with varying levels of interest. The dirt crunched softly underneath the weight of Tanjiro’s crutch as distance between them and the village grew. “Or perhaps once this whole war is finally over, we could all come back here and eat some time? Without worryin– ” Tanjiro cut himself off, his bubbly nature disposed of. Giyuu looked down at him, finding that the boy had scrunched his nose up in horror. He frowned. What could Tanjiro smell that he couldn’t? And what could be that vile that it caused him to react in such a manner? Giyuu raised his gaze.
The night’s air had descended on them, the trees at the boarder of headquarters were shrouded in darkness and he could barely make out their shape when he looked at them. The faint amber glow from the city had vanished and the night was quiet. Eerily so. Giyuu hooked his fingers underneath the guard of his katana, which he’d hidden beneath his haori upon their time in the village, and scanned the area once more with his eyes. He couldn’t sense the presence of a demon, but some small whisper in the back of his mind was telling him that something was transpiring. After all, why would Tanjiro react in such a perturbed state? Giyuu flickered his gaze back to the boy in question, he was now pinching his nose, and his lips were pressed together as if he was in pain, but his eyes were wide open and his brows were drawn. Giyuu frowned deeper.
He turned half a fraction around; the city was still in view, albeit very dimly what with the amber lanterns having been taken down for the night. The streets were devoid of any lifeform– not even a stray cat wandered the dirt path. Giyuu’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. A brief gust of wind passed through the area, swirling the sheet of wisteria into spirals. His katana clinked under the pressure he was applying to it. He couldn’t sense anything. But there was no doubt about it, something was here, something so powerful that Tanjiro was frozen at his side, pinching his nose in assumed agony. Slowly, Giyuu dragged his nichirin katana out of its sheath, the carefully forged metal scrapping against the inside of the carrier. He held it out purposefully, unsure of what direction the supposed danger would appear from.
“I was waiting for you, Kamado Tanjiro.”
Giyuu stiffened, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotion flood his field of vision. The voice that spoke was in front of him, walking smoothly out of the haze of shadows. The voice was dressed in all white with a black blouse, and didn’t look all too threatening what with the lanky young human man form the demon had decided to assume– until Giyuu got a glimpse of his eyes; they were pure scarlet with a cat-like slit down the very middle.
But there was no number etched into his eyes. So why? Why was Tanjiro so horrified? This wasn’t even a Lower Moon– “Kibutsuji Muzan…-” Tanjiro gritted out, breathless almost.
Giyuu’s lungs filled with air as he sharply spun to look at Tanjiro, whose eyes had been clouded with rage. Never before had he seen someone so apoplectic with anger before– not even the likes of Shinazugawa could match the expression Giyuu found himself staring at. It was almost like his feet had been trapped by roots, binding him in place, as though he was a tree. Before him stood Muzan. The Muzan Kibutsuji. The Demon King. The reason for it all. The source of so much loss and despair… and he was frozen in place. Unbelieving.
A pale hand extended out towards them and Giyuu felt himself stiffen. The hand was upturned, with the palm facing the jet coloured sky, the Demon King held it out, as though he expected something. “Well?” The voice spoke again, and Giyuu had never before felt so rooted in place by the heavy tone. The condescending yet level voice of Muzan struck the air, plummeting a cloud of fear and uncertainly over him. It was really Muzan.
“I do not suppose, you would have been so kind as to bring Nezuko out with you?” The Demon King mused, his scarlet coloured eyes glinting in the silver dust of moonlight. Beside him, Tanjiro was fuming, he was shaking and trembling, the dirt around his sandals vibrated in response to his movements. Giyuu flickered his gaze down once more. Only his eyes could move. He was unsure if his lungs were still registering oxygen or not.
Muzan stepped closer, his polished black shoes crunching loudly against the path. “I cannot sense her presence. You must have kept her hidden.” His head dipped forward and the rest of his face was revealed from the shadows. It was blank, with an air of an unspoken rage concealed behind it.
For the first moment in his life, he was overcome with fury at the sight; this was Muzan in the flesh and he had a chance to put an end to this senseless war. He had a chance to give all those deceased people justice. He inched forward, covering a slice of Tanjiro’s form with his own.
The material of the hilt pressed against his palm as he tightened his grip on it, ‘Water Breathing, First Form; Water Surface Slash’ in an instant, he sent himself flying forwards, aiming for the outstretched hand of Muzan. “GIYUU-SA-” Tanjiro’s shout was drowned out by the influx of pressure inserted on his body and he was sent plummeting towards the ground.
‘Water Breathing, Eighth Form; Waterfall Basin’
Giyuu landed back on his toes and flung himself towards once more, ready to exert his previous attack. He felt hot as he jumped in almost what seemed like slow motion. Muzan’s cold, carmine gaze was fixated on him– yet he couldn’t feel any angrier. Rage was spilling out of him uncontrollably and he felt the desire to yank Muzan’s skull off of his clavicle– it did not even occur to him how preposterous his desire was. The scarlet tinted eyes of the Demon King flashed and there was a spurt of blood in the air. For a second, Giyuu thought it was his own. “GIYUU-SAN WATCH OUT!”
Giyuu rushed an inhale of breath as the previously amputated arm of Muzan’s shot out and clutched his throat. He gasped, feeling his throat close off.
“GIYUU!!!” He choked, finding the scarlet eyes overtaking his vision in a blur of face-paced motion. Nails dug into his skin, and he felt rivulets of thick blood carve their way down his throat, staining his uniform. He gasped out, desperate for oxygen in his lungs. Giyuu’s gaze locked on Muzan’s and in a last ditch effort to free himself, he swung his katana in an upwards arc, but the tip of the blade was caught effortlessly by Muzan’s thumb and index finger.
The Demon King then erupted into a horrendous explosion of mocking laughter– it shook the ground and the trees, causing crows to take off in fear of their lives. Giyuu felt the tremors echo throughout his body.
He struggled to yank his sword out of Muzan’s grip and with his lack of oxygen he couldn’t preform any breathing techniques. Black smoke ebbed at his field of vision and Muzan’s eyes glinted. “LET HIM GO, YOU BASTARD!” Tanjiro appeared, his crutch raised and aimed directly at Muzan’s midsection. Giyuu’s eyes widened– what was he thinking!? Before he could even protest the action, Tanjiro was being sent half a mile away, crashing into a nearby tree. Giyuu couldn’t even yell his name.
His katana was forcefully ripped from his grip and tossed away, with the now freed hand, Muzan slammed it down on Giyuu’s skull and sent him driving into the Earth. Blood ejected out of his mouth and he gasped in whatever fleeting breathes he was able to. “You fool!” Muzan snarled, his white fangs glistening in the moonlight. The hand wrapped around his throat was released, but before Giyuu could properly acquaint himself with oxygen, a burning influx of white, hot, scalding pain exploded throughout his limbs and body, rattling his organs and bones in agony.
A thump and a spurt of smoking, crimson liquid followed his affliction. Giyuu barely held back the wail of crippling anguish. His hair was yanked upwards and he found his body suspended in the air once more, only his skull was splitting in pain. He sputtered, blood leaking out of his lips. He went to move his arms to free himself, but only one complied. His only one. His eyes widened in horror as through shaky vision, he spotted his arm, laying on the ground, oozing scarlet liquid on the dirt.
Muzan’s face appeared before his once more, the sickening fanged smile bursting rage through his veins. “Never before, have I met such a foolish Water Hashira. What did they do? Breed a new type of foolery?” Muzan’s unoccupied hand exploded Giyuu’s guts onto the dirt path. Giyuu spasmed in agony. His vision gave out for a half a second and he found himself consumed with panic. Tanjiro–!
Muzan snarled down at him and yanked his arm free of Giyuu’s midsection before dropping him to the ground. He crumpled forward, trembling. He had to get to Tanjiro. Tanjiro– Tanjiro was injured. Tanjiro– Where had Tanjiro gone–? He felt Muzan’s nails pierce the open, cascading wound of his left arm. He went rigid and erect, engulfed in a series of pumping pain.
“I wonder!” Muzan snarled, peering closer. “What a so called Hashira, such as yourself, can offer my cause?” Giyuu couldn’t register the Demon King’s words through his agony. He felt a surge within himself and the walls of his throat were coaxed in thick blood and slimy bile, which soon found themselves splattered in chunks on the path. “Accept it. You have no choice.” Muzan growled furiously, and Giyuu found himself aware of the nails that were slitting the skin of his cheeks open. He raised his head upwards, feeling another wave of vomit course through his body. “You cannot possibly hope to protect him without your arm… or your innards, no?” Giyuu wheezed in response and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. No…– he couldn’t protect Tanjiro, he could never protect anyone. He was too weak. He was no match for the overwhelming strength that oozed from Muzan. He could feel individual sections of his body become unresponsive. “Accept it.” Muzan’s voice demanded firmly, the nails inside his arm digging deeper into the tissue.
Giyuu swallowed and hung his head. He couldn’t– it was against… but what would happen to Tanjiro, should he die here? How could he possibly allow another person to die on his watch, when he could do something about it? How could he possibly allow another person to die on his watch? How pathetic was he? How useless was he? With one last swallow, he trembled and felt a burning energy rippled his veins, tearing them apart. He threw his head back in agony, feeling blood pumping through him, unrelenting and un–
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When Giyuu came to there was the stench of blood. His head was heavy, like it was filled with lead and it didn’t lift off the ground when he wanted it to. He sighed out a long, sputtered breath. Exhaustion crippled his bones and his limbs, every part of him was throbbing with a burning sensation. Giyuu moved his body forward against the dirt, attempting to rub the agony away. He only succeeded in getting dirt in his mouth.
He was stuck on the ground, weighed down by an unseeable force, or perhaps that was just his haori. He groaned, as if that would release the coil of pain that strangled him. Where exactly was he? And where was his katana?
Giyuu tried to drag his arms towards his chest but his muscles were drunk with fatigue and did not comply. He groaned again, and rubbed his cheek against the cold, flacking pieces of dirt that lay beneath him. His eyelids were heavy and glued shut. All he felt like doing was sliding into an abyss devoid of life or memory. Had there been a squabble? Giyuu ejected another long sigh from this body, what kind of slayer was he, getting knocked out so easily when Tanjiro–
His eyelids shot open.
All Giyuu could see was the slanted view of the Earth, with the grey dirt stretching for miles, blobs of shapeless trees stood mighty and proud in the distance, and the silver-bathed clouds dotted the jet coloured sky here and there, making room for the massive, glittering full moon that hung in the sky, demanding attention.
His muscles overcame their fatigue and lifted his body shakily onto his knees, with what little force they could muster. Giyuu jumped to his toes but quickly found himself being dragged back to the Earth, his vision swarming with black tides. He scowled. Tanjiro had been with him– hadn’t he? Yes, he had the crutch that Kocho– Kocho’s medicine. Giyuu’s head whirled to the side, finding that the purple liquid he’d purchased shattered and staining his haori, which found itself missing the left sleeve. Tiredly, he blinked in confoundment. Why was his haori torn on his left side? He raised his left arm to observe it properly which was when he discovered that his arm was completely missing the sleeve of his demon slayer uniform.
He cycled his breathes through his lungs properly, not allowing panic to overtake his rational mind. Maybe it was the squabble. Giyuu swivelled his head around, focusing on the horizon line. Tanjiro. Where was Tanjiro?
Giyuu dragged his right leg up from his kneeing position, slowly but surely, it stayed in place. He gritted his teeth, feeling one of them poke agony into his gums. Had he broken a tooth? The demon slayer shoved that thought away, it wasn’t important, not as important as finding Tanjiro. Giyuu raised his left leg up and carefully, he raised himself up to his full stature. The Earth below him wavered and exhaustion rippled his veins the longer he stayed standing, but he couldn’t let that be the reason Tanjiro remained unfound. He wasn’t a Hashira, but he imagined that he was stronger than this.
His trembling legs carried him forward in a senseless direction, his vision swarming once more. Tanjiro could be anywhere, did he go back to the village? Or back to headquarters to get help? Giyuu didn’t know which one he’d prefer; if Tanjiro went to the village there would be no one to help him, but if Tanjiro went to headquarters the Hashira would appear and Giyuu could practically see Shinazugawa and Iguro’s judgemental stares of disproval.
His stomach turned inside, twisting and churning uncomfortably. He grunted and wrapped his arms around his midsection, fury bubbling up inside him; what had happened? Why had he been knocked out? Where was Tanjiro? Who had attacked them, if they’d been attacked at all?
Giyuu managed ten stumbling steps before he collapsed on his face, blood sputtering his from his lips. He winced as his stomach became committed to performing backflips and forward rolls, even when he was not moving. He felt famished and his thirst crawled up the back of his throat, making it go dry with lust.
Giyuu groaned and rolled his head forward against the dirt; his mind was going insane. He was hurting all over, and bile was simmering from his liver, ready to surge up his throat and decorate the path. He sputtered as another round of blood coughed itself up from his mouth, where it had been pooling without his knowledge. Giyuu hacked, more and more crimson liquid dripping down his chin. He wheezed, feeling his head go dizzy. He found himself laying on his side after a moment, exhaustion oozing out of him. He scowled in frustration.
His eyes slipped back inside his eyelids and for the second time that night, Giyuu lost all thought.
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When Giyuu came to there was the stench of blood. He sputtered and coughed, prying his eyes forcefully open. His lungs felt weak from overuse. The horrid, vile reek of scarlet liquid churned his stomach and his limbs felt moulded from lead. Giyuu raised himself to his knees, echoing the position he’d been in however many hours ago.
He coughed up a single thread of blood as he stared up at the glistening moon that had moved across the jet coloured sky and was now approaching the rows of looming mountains; its silver dust particles were slowly vanishing from sight and Giyuu found himself not in the slightest bit comforted. He raised himself to his legs, he had to be quick this time, before he ultimately passed out again. Tanjiro. He had to find Tanjiro. Tanjiro was his only priority.
Giyuu stumbled forwards, shoving away thoughts of his hunger, thirst, exhaustion and burning sensations. They didn’t matter. Tanjiro mattered, and if Tanjiro had somehow… Giyuu clenched his jaw so tightly he felt the muscles in his cheeks turn over numbly. He stumbled for longer than he’d like to admit, and his vision was slitted to only what was in front of him, but he found himself not caring in the slightest. The stench of blood seemed to trail behind him and assault him on all sides. Giyuu’s mouth was watering dangerously by the time he spotted a crumpled figure beside a large spanning tree only illuminated by a scattered ray of the moon’s pearly light.
He stumbled forward and thudded to his knees beside Tanjiro, whose crutch was nowhere in sight. Giyuu went to open his mouth to wake the boy from his involuntarily elected slumber but his words were frozen in the back of his burning throat. Tanjiro was covered in fresh, smoking blood from a gash on his forehead. Giyuu went rigid and saliva cascaded down his jaw at the sight. His stomach yearned for it uncontrollably, his hunger peaking.
Giyuu trembled, reaching forward with a hand he didn’t recognise. His jaw chattered, his teeth sending echos throughout his skull. It smelt delicious. He was starving. Saliva pooled on his tongue as he stared, rooted in place by the overwhelming desire to consume– “Kaw! Kaw! Kaw!” Giyuu’s neck snapped upwards as he watched Kanzaburo land unbalanced on one of the towering tree’s stray branches. “Kaw! Kaw!” His crow kawed softly, tilting his large head to the side as he eyed Giyuu with his good eye. “Kaw! Are you okay, Giyuu? Kaw!” Kanzaburo kawed again, puffing his wings out.
Giyuu’s gaze snapped back to Tanjiro and he retracted the hand he didn’t recognise sharply. What was he doing?! He shuddered, spotting the long, filed azure nails that extended from the hand he didn’t recognise as well as the large sea-blue water like swirls that covered it. Giyuu trembled and caught the hand he didn’t recognise with the other, keeping it pinned on the ground. He shuddered, swirling thoughts sending his mind over the edge. What was that? What was that? What– Why had he done that? Who–
“Accept it.” A cold, shudder-inducing voice demanded firmly.
Giyuu choked and coughed up a large blob of blood that splattered to the ground. “Kaw! Kaw!” Kanzaburo kawed in concern, flapping his wings. Giyuu felt every part of him turn cold and still in a tidal wave of sickening realisation. He was hungry. Starving. Famished. Yearning. Desiring. He hacked and doubled over, coughing up large doses of burning blood that just kept coming. He wheezed as blood seeped through those long nails on those hands he didn’t recognise. “KAW!” He spasmed, uncontrollable fury and despair boiled inside his veins. He scowled, his face contorted in such a manner that it was physically exhausting him. He’d done it.
“KAW!” The hands clenched and the nails were driven into the frigid temperature of the Earth. Smoking blood covered those hands and those demonic patterns. Black clouds of disgust clouded his vision and blood rung vigorously inside his eardrums. “KAW!” He wheezed, feeling saliva and blood mix on his tongue, forming a terrible substance of terrible making. Giyuu hacked and hacked and hacked, seeing only the thick, scarlet liquid that coated the dirt, coated those hands, coated– “KAW! Giyuu! KAW!”
“Ko– Kocho–” Giyuu sputtered, streams of blood and saliva cascading down his chin, slowly dripping and plopping into the pile he’d created on those hands. “Get a message– message to Kocho. Tanjiro injured. He needs help, quickly!” He shouted at Kanzaburo, who took off in flight a moment later, his senseless kawing making Giyuu’s blood circulate in his ears. He choked and spasmed, feeling his stomach yearn ferociously for the meal– for Tanjiro. Giyuu pushed off those hands he didn’t recognise and shot himself onto his feet, he needed– needed to escape.
He tripped over himself; he was face first with his katana, glinting cyan in the moon’s vanishing rays. Hunger assaulted his insides, thirst scaled his throat and exhaustion weighed him into the ground. Those hands clutched the hilt’s material and he took off again, blood ejected from his mouth as he sprinted, sprinted, sprinted senselessly, in a direction he didn’t know. The blood grew thickly, swarming his vision and clogging his windpipes. Giyuu choked and sputtered, but it was too much. It was too much. He couldn’t breathe–
He collapsed on those hands and his knees, feeling his futile gasps shudder through his body. Blood mixed with saliva, mixed with dirt, mixed with blooming resent. Giyuu hunched forward, his tongue felt severed, and he couldn’t feel his mouth. Blood was everywhere. Encircling him, trapping him, holding him. He lurched and vomited again and again, but it just didn’t cease. He cried out. Wheezing, sputtering, coughing, choking.
A sandal gently clinked on what sounded like stone, and then, two soft hands cupped his jaw and lifted his blood-covered face up gently, so gently. Giyuu squeezed his eyes shut and he didn’t plan on opening them again. Shame crippled his insides and he felt his body flatten against the ground from fatigue.
“Shh… shh…” a nice woman’s voice hushed gently, her gentle fingers combed gently through his hair. Giyuu hacked, his mouth going numb from sickness. “You’re a demon slayer… Shhh, it’ll be alright. Hold on in there, alright?” The woman asked, her voice was like honey, and it made Giyuu recall Tsutako’s similar tone of voice, for just a moment though. Tears welled in the back of his burning eyes. The hand in his hair and on his jaw vanished and he felt himself slip into a chasm of despair. What had he done? He felt his eyes droop, even though they were closed. ‘Tanjiro…’
Had he failed?
Again?