HIII so i had like a cool idea right what if we get like individual hashira reactions to an ex hashira reader than turned into a demon and feels bad for it and find that the reader has been following them around cause they miss them but has to keep their distance and will avoid interaction at all costs until they’re cornered
so how we feeling guys 👅
Note: Feeling good! :] This can be read as platonic or romantic.
Contains: Hurt/Comfort (Giyuu, Mitsuri, Shinobu, Tengen, Kanae), Hurt No Comfort (Sanemi, Obanai, Kyojuro, Muichiro, Gyomei), death
Those Unwanted Wisps
Giyuu Tomioka
Your disappearance has haunted him for months by now. The mission you parted for was not meant to be difficult; it was supposed to be just another common check in to murders potentially related to demons. However, later reports hinted towards Upper Moon activity in that area. Although your body is yet to be recovered, Giyuu has found himself preparing for the worst. Sorrow sweeps over him in calm, cold waves, and he wishes the memories would stop crashing through him.
You saw past his aloof personality, being the only Hashira to bother with actively seeking him out. Neither his equanimity nor silence deterred you. The occasional sarcastic remarks never annoyed you, if anything you were entertained by them, and thus to his delight, you grew quite close. Over time, Giyuu found himself admiring you, the way you knew your limitations and shamelessly admitted to your faults. You were bright and bold and selfless, so much so that the depths of his soul may as well have been pierced by the rays of your light.
His expression twitches in a sudden burst of pain, the casual grip on his sword tightens. It would not have been like you to carelessly throw your life away. If you were alive you would have returned by now and apologized for causing worry, only to rush straight onto the next mission. Lately, like a tidal wave, Giyuu has been tearing into his enemies with quiet, careless rage. All because he knows you are gone.
To make matters worse, a strange presence has been following him as of late. The phantom stalks him through the trees, and part of him wonders if it may be your spirit chasing after him. Those thoughts are swiftly shaken off, Giyuu cannot afford to ignore the possibility of a demon just because he got sentimental. He grasps the pendant hidden beneath his uniform, a gift for him, you said, the aquamarine reminded you of his eyes. Allowing them to flutter shut for merely a second, Giyuu hopes holding onto the present will keep him stable as he finally snaps to face his stalker.
His eyes shoot wide open anyway, mouth parted as he finally gazes upon the creature's form. Your face, your complexion, your clothes, even your sword- the figure holds all of them. However, everything that made you yourself has been warped and his stare sharpens. This is without a doubt a demons doing. Giyuu readies his sword, more than eager to tear this crude illusion apart, but the being's reaction forces him to pause.
Although accompanied by a swift movement, your blade blocks his passively. Please, you plead of him to speak with you first. Torn between rage to cut down the creature for impersonating you and rushing to hold you, Giyuu's face betrays him as it twists in a surge of grief. It reverts back to its usual stone cold form as he demands an explanation. In spite of his disbelief, Giyuu can tell the demon is genuine when claiming to be you; the rumors of an Upper Moon having been in the area were true, and you were turned against your will.
His gaze drifts downwards to the damp grass, hand flinching against the hilt of his katana. Responsibility clashes against every memory he has tried to drown. Playing tsume shogi and talking late into the night, sharing rare smiles and eating fish together- everything Giyuu has tried to stifle crashes over him once more. His chest constricts as if his lungs were filled with water instead of air, but he knows now is not the time for distractions. He breathes in and forces himself to relax his shoulders. Face as emotionless as ever, Giyuu asks if you have ever devoured a human.
You deny it, and he knows it is the truth. Although still hurt and furious towards whichever monster made you this way, Giyuu approaches you as a friend. Wordlessly, he embraces you like the tides embrace the moon. Hands firmly pressed against your back as you return the gesture, he swears to make this right. Even if he needs to violated the Demon Slayer Corps' code of conduct, he will keep you safe.
Selfish as it may be, Giyuu cannot afford to lose another loved one. Your absence already left an abyss in his heart, and as wrong as it is, a sense of relief washed over him even as he saw your demonic form. Though a twisted visage, a warped reflection on the surface of water, it was still you, it is still you. His hold tightens, eyes half-lidded, actions speaking the words he could never say.
Giyuu was not there to aid you when you needed him most. Guilt claws in his chest at the thought, and it likely forever will keep doing so. He has never been good enough to save those who have always had his back. However, you are still alive, in his arms, speaking as the person you always have been. Although it is a horrifying and terrible turnout of events, Giyuu holds on tighter and decides this is his second chance. He could not save you then but he will protect you now even if it puts him at risk, and even if it means protecting your humanity instead.
Mitsuri Kanjori
She has tried her best to remain positive. Each day Mitsuri waits by the porch of your mansion, a box of handmade sweets in her lap. Daydreaming of all the topics she will get to catch up with you on, the Love Hashira kicks her feet back and forth as the hours pass by. Sometimes she falls asleep leaning against a pillar, sometimes she has to leave with a wistful sigh. No matter what it is that forces Mitsuri to leave, she has been eating her meals all alone.
There is no way she could accept someone as powerful, wonderful and beautiful could be out of her life just like that. In spite of Iguro's careful attempts at reasoning with her, Mitsuri likes to think you simply found someone to love wherever you disappeared. That person must be very important and in dire need of help! Ah, how truly selfless and radiant you are! Hopefully you will be back soon to visit.
Deep down, she knows this is all only wishful thinking. Mitsuri is not childish enough to believe everything went so perfectly for you, but she is not willing to accept your departure just yet either. Many of her colleagues have passed, and their deaths have left her trembling in anger and sadness. However, as someone so many depend on, she cannot afford to be distracted. Even if this is the first time someone so close to her has met the kind of horrible end many in this line of work do, she must keep her head on straight.
Besides, your body has not even been recovered yet! You could totally be alive! Mitsuri will ignore the ghostly presence following her around, it has got to be just her mind playing tricks on her. Ghosts very likely do exist, but that is not your spirit behind her, nope! See, she will prove it right here and now!
Mitsuri spins around with her green eyes barely peeled open, only to let out a loud gasp. Before her stands the very person she has missed so much. Sure, you look like you were hiding and now are hesitating, but there is no need to be shy! Mitsuri cries out your name and rushes towards you with her arms spread out. You both fall to the ground as she giggles in delight upon seeing you alive and well, but you spare no reaction to what should have been the air getting forced out of your lungs.
The silence shocks her and she apologizes for tackling you as her giggles die down. Soon Mitsuri pulls herself up by her arms to hover above you, cheerful tone replaced by worry. You avert your gaze as she scans you over for injuries, only for her breath to catch in her throat. The cute parts of your pretty face have become tainted by demonic features! You are still rather attractive though... but that is beside the point!
Panicking, Mitsuri rubs her eyes frantically and hopes it will make those demonic bits go away. When this does not work, she pleads you to tell her what happened. This is still you, it has to be! You have not eaten or killed any humans, the you Mitsuri knows would never do that. She believes you with her whole heart when you say you have not, and embraces you the same way she always has, like all the love in the world is hers to give.
Sweet like honey and warm like spring, her heart envelops yours. It is as if everything will be alright, just because Mitsuri loves you. Slowly, your shoulders go slack as your hands settle over her back as well. Mitsuri promises she sees you the same way she always has, and will invite you out to eat even though you need no food anymore. Maybe you will finally join her in taking care of her bees now that your skin is more durable and heals easier!
That earns a short burst of laughter from you and she giggles as well. Through some sort of miracle, you retained your whole consciousness in spite of your transformation. Mitsuri refuses to let an opportunity like this slip past her. Her friend is back and the Demon Slayer Corps has a cooperative reference for demon studying. The studying part is only if you agree, of course!
Mitsuri just needs an excuse to get everyone on board with keeping you around still. They all have good reasons for hating demons and she does not want anyone to get hurt. However, she cares about you far too much to allow you to simply be executed Besides, you have not even harmed a single human! Those months apart were nothing but pangs of hurt slashing through her heartstrings. Now that she finally has you back, she is never letting you go.
Obanai Iguro
The days muddle into a blur as he wraps himself up in work. Obanai curses himself for not having taken those rumors seriously. One Hashira was not enough, that is the only reason why you could have been gone for so long. He does not allow himself to grow close to people often, not that many are worth his time to begin with. However, through your persistence in befriending him, he grew to see your strengths.
Embarrassingly soon into knowing you, Obanai had to admit it. You are an ideal demon slayer. The rules and etiquette of the organization are engraved into your very bones. Not a shred of mercy lurks in your body, no sympathy at all wasted on those undeserving of it. Even so, you remain humble and lively, so assured in your cause and comrades that you speak eagerly of what you will do when the time comes that demons are no more.
Although he regarded your optimism as foolish at first, Obanai grew to respect it over time. In fact, it is how every slayer should function. The finish line is in sight, the Demon King will fall. Therefore, all energy should be expended towards training and working for that destination, that future. These weaklings the Corps has become infested with are all stagnant and cowardly, but now he finds himself wishing you would have shown more care for your own limits.
If he could, he would find you and coil around you, keeping you beside him at all times. The number of people he cares for has been at an all time low for years now. The more Obanai thinks of it, the more grief and hatred slither within him like his veins. Even if only for a while, the way your sights were locked onto the future made him wonder if even someone as filthy as him could move forward. In spite of your own struggles, which you never attempted to mask, all you ever said was that the past is dead and gone, only today is worth considering... but today, you are gone.
The bandages over his mouth shift with his subtle grimace, eyes narrowed. There is no way he can move on from your death. Obanai has never had much to himself, has not had the chance to lose something so valuable. Now he knows how to hold on, but it is far too late. So, to turn his shortcomings into something of value, he snarls and decides to finally deal with the creature he knows has been following him since your disappearance, close enough at last to prevent it from slipping away.
He whips himself around, only to freeze. You stand before him, face devoid of life. At first Obanai cannot believe what he sees, then forcefully steadies himself. Demanding an explanation with a threat, it surprises him when you speak calmly. Your fate was even worse than he thought; you lost and became a demon.
Handing over your weapon to him, you offer a faint smile, telling him to give it to a slayer he deems worthy of it. Obanai grasps it in his hands, then stares at you with wide eyes as you ask him to end you. That is what he should do, what would be natural to do in spite of your intact consciousness and memory. The past flashes through his eyes and he falters. Sharing poems, watching shows of artistry together, sparring, and walking beneath the silence of the stars- no, how is he meant to let it all slip away from him?
His hands tremble over his sword. He should not hesitate, he should not waver. This is his duty as a demon slayer. Church bells seem to toll in the distance as you wait with half-lidded eyes, reflections of tired grief and wasted dreams. Tears prick at the corners of his own, and Obanai knows if he allows himself to dwell on this, he will never go through with it.
The cut is sharp, fast, and clean, like the bite of a gaboon viper. He stops right before you, stumbling in the position his strike landed on. A bittersweet and grateful smile grazes over your lips as you mutter a thank you. Your head falls off from your shoulders before your body collapses. Obanai stands still as the skin flakes, cracks, and disintegrates, but you are not a shedding snake. No new skin will peek out from beneath after the old one is gone.
Soon, whatever remained of your corpse is gone. Obanai's stoic expression falters, eyes squinted with unshed tears, face scrunched in despair. Everything about demonkind is utterly unforgivable, but even after becoming one you remained true to yourself, offering up your life rather than clinging to that mangled form of existence. No matter what you have told him about the act of moving on before, he will never forget you. The future you had hoped for may have been robbed from your deserving hands but he will ensure your dream will come true nonetheless- even if you will not be there to see it.
Sanemi Shinazugawa
He is not the type to sit still when something is bothering him. He is the wind that picks up and rises to a hurricane, which shows in the way he searches for you. All of his patrols are directed near the area you were meant to visit, but nothing turns up. Wrenching off the head of demon after demon, Sanemi still comes up empty handed. Frustration rages inside him, and that storm is what he tries to focus on rather than the fear floating in like dark clouds before rain.
Someone with your level of power would not have fallen to some measly demon. Sanemi refuses to accept that as even a possibility, anyone who says it is so can run off and die for all he cares. You are still alive, he just needs to find you. Only after seeing your corpse would he even consider the thought. He mulls over what you will do together once he finds you instead.
One of his beetles gave birth recently. Sanemi knows you would enjoy seeing the little ones grow and change over time. Once you recover from whatever has kept you from him for this long, he wants to spar again. Nothing thrills him more than testing which one of you will come out on top, strengths matched. Maybe he will even take some time to cook for you, depending on how bad your condition is.
All he needs to do is find you, but he keeps getting distracted by the burning feeling that someone is watching him. For the entire duration of his search operation he has been catching glimpses of a shadowy figure and hearing the creaking of branches. Each time he has tried to confront the creature, it has slipped away from him. Since the noises only follow him at nighttime, the thing is undoubtedly a demon, a particularly fast one. For whatever reason all it has done so far is following him, but tonight Sanemi would dig out the truth from the demon itself.
He set up a trap and although the demon narrowly avoids it, Sanemi finally gets a look at his stalker. His eyes fly wide as they settle among a figure that looks eerily like you. Sword raised, he scowls and strikes. The figure parries on instinct, form an exact replica of your breathing technique. Jumping back, Sanemi slices his arm and grins, deceivingly offering to give the creature some of his rare, valuable blood in exchange for answers.
The demon licks its lips on reflex, then shuts its eyes and shakes its head. When it speaks, its voice is a carbon copy of yours. Sanemi freezes as the creature, the one he has been looking for, explains what happened. An Upper Moon turned you into a demon, but you have continued your duties in spite of your ongoing metamorphosis. However, your hunger has been growing stronger with each passing day. Although you want to keep going, you are not sure how long your self-restraint can last.
This is a transformation neither one of you wants to see through. Sanemi grits his teeth, eyes squinted in pure frustration. He wants to cry and scream, he blames himself for letting you go alone. There is already so much loss he has endured. He knows he must do this, but dammit he does not want to! Steeling his resolve as he blinks the fog out from his eyes, for the first time in his career, Sanemi presses the blade gently against a demon's throat.
One swift, clean slice, and he hopes he did not cause you any pain. His hands tremble and he drops his sword, rushing to hold your crumbling body. Sanemi's breath shakes as he buries his head into your shoulder. A quiet mumble leaves your lips. You would have liked to stay with him, just a little longer.
Tears roll down his face in fat streaks as he grits his teeth. When the final remnants of your body disintegrate, Sanemi slams his fists into the ground. Uncaring of the rocks and branches that tear into his skin, he lets his red, marechi blood pour out. Even so, the pain is not enough to distract him as rage tears him to shreds from the inside out. Fist grasping at his uniform, chest burning with wrath, he swears to eradicate every single demon in this world, all in your name.
Gyomei Himejima
Each morning and every night, he prays for your safety. He fulfills his duties and sticks to his routines as devotedly as always. However, his days feel undoubtedly emptier. Without you to contrast his easily shaken soul, Gyomei has found himself weeping even more than usual. Calm and comforting, your presence was steady as the earth beneath his feet.
He longs for the soulful talks you shared, the distinct echo of your voice and every intonation of your words. Even the quiet moments, relaxing in a field of damp grass and flowers filled him with peace. His flute lays dormant within his robes, waiting for someone eager to hear it be played. Of course with Gyomei being the strongest Hashira, many would be honored to watch him do anything. However, he cares not for empty praise. What he misses are the deep, detailed insights to the melodies he would play.
Gyomei trusts you to be honest with him. That was why when you said the mission would not be a problem, he let you go alone. It was meant to be nothing but a routine check-up on rumors. Those do not often lead to battle at all, and if they do, it is nothing a Hashira could not take care of. However, your absence can only mean one thing; the situation's severity was vastly underestimated.
Only an Upper Moon could have kept you for so long, could have killed you. Still, Gyomei has committed himself to finding you. As unwavering as steel, he searches for your kind voice and familiar heartbeat. Each disaster has you have endured has only proven your true nature as determined and brave. Although being in the Demon Slayer Corps means there is no guarantee of tomorrow, he hopes to meet you once more in one of his future days.
However, one peculiar thing has been distracting Gyomei from his tasks as of late. A presence stalks him through the trees, fast enough to flee before he can face them. It owns the footsteps and aura of a demon, yet its heart beats with purity. It is a demon indeed, but one that has never taken the life of a human being. Such a strange thing warrants an explanation, which he shall finally get tonight.
As he faces the demon, however, he pauses, unconsciously lowering his weapons. There is no mistake when your voice gently breaks through the silence, you are this demon. His pale eyes are quick to start shedding tears; this is why you have been gone. Gyomei understands when you reveal why you did not come to face him immediately. Allowing oneself to die is against the very nature of any living being.
These past few months, you have been tying up loose ends and ensuring his safety. Now that you are done, there is no reason to stay in this world as such a hideous monster. Although you have held in your hunger for now, that could change at any moment. Gyomei loathes that you are right. His heart breaks as you lower yourself to the ground, to your knees, the back of your neck open to him.
If there ever was anyone you would have liked to be beheaded by, it would have been him. You know he would give you a graceful death. Salty tears slide down his face, brows furrowing in pain. Gyomei commends your resolve; you retained your humanity, even until the bitter end. Mumbling a quiet prayer, he does his best to keep his voice from wavering, blessing your soul. Although your body may have failed you and yielded to the demon blood forced upon you, he assures you will die as a human in spirit, your dignity intact.
Your heartbeat thrums in your neck, veins and nerves tensing in anticipation. Raising his axe like an executioner, Gyomei knows he cannot listen to this for much longer. Your head severs from your body in such a quick flash, you feel nothing at all. It all fades to black as he kneels before your fading corpse. He remains seated in the silence for a long while.
The blood burning away from his large hands stings as it goes. Hurting living beings is hell. Ending the life of someone so close to him... infernal flames may as well be reaching for him from below. Even so, Gyomei will not let those get to him. Your sacrifices will never be forgotten, not as long as he lives, and in your next life, you will be reunited.
Muichiro Tokito
Something is missing, he can tell. Pangs of emptiness run through him but he does not know why. At times Muichiro wonders if that something may be someone. That guy with blonde... or was it red hair, asked him about someone earlier. The name that loud stranger mentioned sounded familiar, but he can only connect a blurry face to it.
Muichiro finds items that bring up quiet whispers of the past. A painted birthday card rests on his nightstand, that smudged name written in the back with a personalized message to him. Your thoughts seem kind, and your handwriting is pleasant on the eyes. On top of his drawer are a couple of origami, but much more sloppily made than his. That makes sense, in one of your letters you thanked him for teaching you. Hm, he should find this person... maybe tomorrow.
Although each day he wakes up having forgotten, everything in his daily life to leads him back to you, whoever you may be. Muichiro should not care, emotions of this nature should not distract him from his duties. However, he finds himself more and more troubled with each passing day. Knowing of this only due to his notebook, yet another thing brought upon him through your influence, he decides to get this over with and reach out to you.
Someone scolds him again for forgetting a meeting, then sighs in exasperation. The lower ranked slayer, a kinoto, complains about a Hashira needing another by his side, how inefficient this is. Though the evident dislike towards him slides past him like fog through trees, his eyes narrow on instinct when the slayer questions your bond with him. With cold and cutting words, Muichiro harshly tears the slayer to shreds. By the end of it, the insignificant moron shakily apologizes and hurries off.
If all the other proof was not enough, this confirms it; whoever you were, you were someone important to him. He needs to find you, but as he tries to figure out where you could be, Muichiro notices a figure following him from behind the trees. Oh, he mentioned this in his notebook too... or maybe it is more of a diary now that he thinks of it. Anyway, he turns around fast and faces the one following him.
Part of his mind clears upon seeing your face. Ah, this is the one who has been haunting him, physically and mentally. Well, a demon is a demon and therefore should be slain. Muichiro takes a stance and a deep breath, mist gathering as he readies his blade. However, an intense squeeze of his heart freezes him in place.
At first Muichiro wonders if it is a Blood Demon Art at play, but that is quickly ruled out. His body forced him to stop as if hurting you was inherently wrong, against his very nature. At first it frustrates him, then he gasps, eyes soon glossed over. For a moment all of it shrouds his senses, overpowering the fog. Your fingers brushing through his hair, struggling to fold paper with an embarrassed smile, playfully competitive games of shogi- all of that and more flows back into the forefront of his mind.
No, he cannot kill you. He could never kill you, let go of someone like you. Never have you berated or looked down upon him for his forgetfulness. Your endless patience engraved you into his dazed mind. At times Muichiro even found himself laughing with you under clear skies.
A sheer layer of water shrouds his vision as he shudders. Your gentle hands brush the soft tears from his eyes as a quiet sob escapes his trembling lips. The hollow wrath plaguing all that he is takes a side role as horrible grief sets in, suppressed emotions rushing in like a tsunami from a broken floodgate. All Muichiro recalls from these upcoming moments are your familiar voice telling him it is fine and comforting hands wrapping his own around the blade. The rest is a blur that he can never remember, but Muichiro can recall a horrifying, soul-crushing pain, so maybe it would be better for him to remain ignorant.
Time seems to pass by as it always has the moment he wakes up in the morning. Not even thunderstorms have kept him up, yet something strange kept him from falling asleep last night. Muichiro cannot quite put his finger on why that is, nor why his normally good appetite is gone as well. Though most importantly of all, as he wanders through the mist with his head in the clouds, he wonders why he his heart sounds so empty again. All he knows for sure is that the persistent rage within his soul, it has grown tenfold as of yesterday.
Shinobu Kocho
She has grown used to the silence. The heaviness that settles soon after a loved one has passed, brought out by the tapping of a deathwatch beetle. Hatred boils within her, fluttering with sharp edges and bleeding cuts. The smile on her painted lips remains ever-present, but it grows tighter, even more maintained. Shinobu's words turn into jagged scalpels, though passive-aggressive derision can only alleviate pain so much.
With each passing day her frustration grows as no news reach her. Although Shinobu remains composed on the surface, those who know her better can pick up on how she clenches her jaw or taps on the paper when she writes. If only her body had grown strong like her sister's. The tip of her pencil breaks at the thought and she curses her fragile, dainty form. Alone, Shinobu drops her smile and allows her expression to warp into a grimace, deep in turmoil as she trembles in anger, tears running down her reddened face.
By the time only her lashes are damp with her grief anymore, Shinobu has successfully forced down her emotions. A practiced mask settles over her features, certainly eerie to any outsider. She must remain focused, she needs to push forward. Wisteria poison pumps through her veins, lethal to any demon yet she injects more. One way or another, she will be useful.
Even if it is against her late sister's wishes, she cannot bottle her wrath without taking action. Remembering the innocent lives lost- her parents, her only sibling, her apprentices, their families- there is no way Shinobu could ever live a normal life. Helping to defeat the demons is the least she could do, and even as she gives it her all, she wishes she could do so much more. Though even her all is never enough, Shinobu will at least make way for the true saviors that will come, all those stronger than her. Her eyes reflect only hollowness as she watches her goldfish flounder in its tank.
So unburdened by life, Shinobu wonders if she herself would have been happier taking to the oceans rather than the dark sky like her little friend. However, that is not the fate meant for her. She knows that on her patrols, she knows it when dealing with the side effects of her own poison. Perhaps she truly will fill herself up with her own venom, she hums alone, wholly uncaring of the habits that will inevitably lead to her doom. However, even in this somewhat distracted state, she notices the figure trailing her.
Shinobu appears behind the demon with the stealth of a ninja, whispering sweet vitriol into its ear as always. The monster remains strangely still as she trails a manicured hand down its cold cheek. Something about this seems eerily familiar. Her eyes widen before she freezes. You are the one who stands before her, you with sharp teeth, discolored claws, and an unnatural stare.
She knows she should embed her sword into your flesh. To follow her vows, she should sink this blade into your guts and let the poison flow through you. However, Shinobu does not. Memories flash between her violet eyes. Your carefree laughs, feeble attempts to stifle your fear when telling ghost stories together, even cooking with the Love Hashira- all of her love crashes over her.
Although her sister's wish never made sense to her before, Shinobu understands it better than ever now. Stepping back, she allows you to explain yourself. When you reveal the gory details of your battle, she recalls what she always has known. The road of happiness lies upon a thin sheet of glass. In spite of all her wishes and effort, she could not stop you from falling beneath your feet.
A frown falls to her lips, facial muscles straining not to show more emotion. Taking in a deep breath, Shinobu steadies herself as you speak of your own future, offering to have yourself be slain willingly. She is swift to reject your suggestion, tone firm and decisive. You have retained your humanity despite your transformation, and that is far more valuable than gold, rarer than the Wind Pillar's blood. This is something that must be studied.
Shinobu does not let you argue, her decision is final. As the chief executive of the Demon Slayer Corps' medical and scientific research department, she more than has the authority to do this. All of this talk of experiments is nothing but a front though. Shinobu cannot handle any more grief, even this scare was far too much for her. Even if you are a demon now, she has you back and won't be letting go; creating a cure for you is her utmost priority now.
Kyojuro Rengoku
The sun has risen and fallen far too many times in your absence. As Kyojuro pushes on forward, he does his best to ignore the dread flickering in his chest. In moments of doubt such as these, he truly is grateful for having embraced the way of the ancient swordsmen. He enjoys every meal as his last, lives each passing day like he will die tomorrow. So far he has survived, but that does not mean no endings will come to pass him by.
Nothing lasts forever, such is the fleeting beauty of all things mortal. He knows what your absence means and as he closes his eyes, he recalls your face. Like Kyojuro does with all that he loves, he has pressed its visage into his memory. Your bright eyes, tired yet hopeful smile, every pretty crease and bump and scar- any moment he gets to do so, Kyojuro makes sure he remembers each and every one of them. If he knew how to paint he could recreate yours with no reference, and perhaps he should commission an art piece just to be safe.
Though as much as he tries to remain focused on the present and what he still has, his thoughts trail to their old paths. He turns to you with a smile as he watches a dance performance to see your mesmerized eyes, only to come face to face with no one. The expression remains as a shallow reflection of its original self as Kyojuro tries to enjoy the show on its own. He finds himself always trying to seek you out, to ask you about food and flowers and anything he has not heard you express your opinion on. Everything about life is short-lived, and in spite of his best efforts he still did not get to know you as well as he would have liked to.
People continue to greet him with grins and enthusiasm to which he responds as he always has, only to wish you would be there to welcome his presence with the same delight. The apricot sky seems to be taunting him, Kyojuro thinks but shakes the idea off fast. How rude of him to insult such a beautiful sight. Wherever you are, he is sure you would have loved the visual. He hopes the sunsets are just as beautiful there, and that you have the best paintbrushes at your disposal, the smoothest of canvases.
Even if the rest of the world were to forget you, he would keep it all in mind. Your determination and hard work, persistence in spite of struggle, the meaningful passion your words always exuded, they would all remain in his burning heart. Above all, Kyojuro would keep your love the closest to his chest, your innate need to shield others. Truly, you lived and died as true warrior, fulfilling your duties with honorable grace and dedication. If he could, he would sit beside the flame of your memory for the rest of the evening but alas, life simply does not work in such a generous way.
The shadow he has been trying to face since your disappearance shows itself at last, and his suspicions are confirmed, it has been you all this time. Your explanation scorches his heart into ash, golden eyes hazed over as he listens. To think all of this could happen in his absence... no, Kyojuro must not dwell on the past. All he can do is ensure the same mistakes will not be made again. Knowing you cannot live any longer, you step closer and carefully wrap your arms around him.
Assuring him that it is alright for him to perform his duties, you press your cheek onto his own, leaning into his warmth. You wish to die as human as you possibly can, and only he can grant you that peace. His eyelids droop as he engraves this one last memory of closure into his very bones. Only then does Kyojuro press the blade through your throat. The movement is swift and painless. All he sees is your sad smile and grateful eyes, a heartbreaking and bittersweet display.
With a deep breath, Kyojuro sheathes his sword. Not even a single muscle shifts as he watches your body fade to dust. All of those moments have turned to memories now. Being prepared does not make his heart hurt any less. However, this ephemeral nature of life is something he must continue to accept over and over again as a demon slayer.
Kyojuro does not cry. Weeping after taking a life would be the most utmost selfish thing to do. Even so, his heart sinks further in his chest with the weight of another lost future. His usual smile is gone, as much as he tries to continue living day by day. Memories are not something he can shake off but he hopes to keep on living for you, dreaming for you.
Tengen Uzui
What an unsightly, dull emotion. Grief should be suffered through with elegance, devotion, and promises. He should only kneel before your grave with the humility of a warrior, dedicate himself to carrying your wishes, and vow to never let another one so close to him slip from his grasp. However, that is not all Tengen does. As much as he tries to keep his head held up and his resolve firm, the burdensome weight over his chest tries to pull him down with just as much intent.
Truly, Tengen deserves the most heartfelt of apologies from you. What, do you think you can distract him from his duties with no consequence? If you return, that is what he will demand. He knows too well you would only cackle at his request, well-maintained teeth flashing in the sunlight. This would serve as nothing more than a way to bring out more exasperated yelling from him.
That was the routine you had fallen into. After years of the same cycle, of teasing and mocking words with no bite at all, it was difficult to slip out of old habits. At a certain point it stopped being bickering caused by genuine dislike, what it had started off as. For a long time, it has been a way to call out each other's flaws. Stumbling in battle, poor manners, forgetfulness- you would tear into another for just about anything.
To an outsider your relationship could have easily been mistaken as one built on hatred, but that was far from true. On the occasion you would praise his skill in combat, and Tengen would be gracious enough to commend you for being able to stand beside him. In the end, the jabs became only a way to keep your pride intact. Your bond built itself on mutual respect and genuine enjoyment of one another's company. As infrequently as he would say it, your honesty and confidence were far more than flamboyant enough.
You were mind-blowing and outstanding, never struggling to choose in difficult situations. Hard work and dedication were all it took for you to rise to your rightful rank of Hashira. In comparison to you and many of his other peers, Tengen felt like an utter bumbling fool at times. With all the lives he has let slip through his fingers, there is nothing else he could be. Even now he cannot seem to catch that one single demon who has been trailing him.
That figure has continued to evade Tengen for months by now, almost mocking him with how it slips away. Frustrated, he finally turns to face that shadow, catching it off guard. With how surprised the figure gets, he can tell he could have easily beheaded it if he had chosen to. However, Tengen is not cowardly enough to do so, no matter what those old fools from his past tried to teach him. Now, seeing your shocked face connected to the demon who has stalked him, he is more than grateful he is not.
Despite himself he smirks, teasing you for thinking he could not have noticed you. He is the Sound Hashira, you foolish trash! Your expression of surprise, guilt, and sadness morphs into an annoyed scowl. Still, your voice rings with no bloodlust or threat as you call him a slow, frail old man for failing to catch you. Tengen shouts out a response in faux offense, berating you for being weak enough to get yourself turned into a demon.
However, that causes the both of you to pause. The gravity of the situation sets in, silence falling over the empty forest. Tengen adjusts his posture and places his weapons away. You say nothing as he approaches. There was an Upper Moon, is all that you reveal when he stops before you.
Tengen does not need to hear anything else. A rare moment of sincerity unveils beneath the quiet stars. The bells on his uniform jingle as he embraces you. His heart hurts as he holds on like you may die the moment he lets go. He swears to fix this with a low, almost desperate tone and somehow, in spite of your doubts, you cannot help but believe him.
Above all, selfish as it may be, Tengen values those he cares about. No mission is important enough for him to forsake those he loves. There is far too much he has lost already. The two of you can work this out, he is sure of it. Even if a bitter, tragic end may be all that this will lead to, he promises to see it through with you.
Kanae Kocho
The gentle smile on her lips remains as ever-present as it always has been. Her eyes, however, gloss over with a watery sheen, reflecting nothing but pain. Kanae plants white lilies in her garden and brushes a few into her stygian hair. Her grief is silent: dewdrop tears, whispered prayers, and averted gazes. There is much left to do, being left behind is far from an option.
As expertly as Kanae hides her wrath, the thorn-covered vines of rage wrap around her heart as well. She is not so different from her peers, no matter how much they marvel at her empathy. The moment you were declared Missing In Action, Kanae swore to personally slay the demon that took you from her. Once a Kocho decides to defeat a demon, she will defeat that demon. When she decides to win, she will win whatever the cost.
Perhaps one day there will be a demon she will lose to, forsaking the promise she made with her sisters. That, however, cannot hold her back. Thinking of her own fragile body would only be an excuse. Anything Kanae can do she will, with all her might. So, she pours all of her energy into finding you.
Your jokes, banter, and silly smiles bloom in the depths of her mind. Kanae asks around if anyone has seen someone of your description, and remembers all the details herself. Her smile trembles when comes across another dead-end. However, Kanae does not give up, knowing you would never have done so either if she were to disappear. The girls miss you too, and anything she can pull more determination and strength from, Kanae keeps in mind with the utmost clarity.
As she searches, she slays the demons from the surrounding area. Being active at nighttime, Kanae picks up on the branches shifting oddly every once in a while as if something abruptly fled from her gaze. Kanae's brows furrow in confusion; this is a phenomenon that has followed her for a while now on her patrols, even in her everyday life. It disappears in daytime, but if a demon were following her, why would it not have attacked by now? Perhaps it is a peculiar way for a demon slayer to approach the situation, but Kanae calls the demon forth from the shadows, saying she only wishes to talk.
The hope Kanae has had for a peaceful interaction with a demon shatters and blooms into desperation as she recognizes the figure. Although buried beneath demonic traits, this face still holds all of your pretty features. Kanae knows the answer when she asks if this truly is you. The truth wounds her heart, pruning shears cutting off her dreams of watching you flourish as a human. Even so, she can tell you are starving.
Stepping forward, Kanae approaches you with concern in her glossy eyes. Her warm, soft yet calloused fingers gingerly trace your cold features. Kanae's hands settle to cradle your face in a familiar gesture. She used to examine your body for wounds with the same gentleness. Although unnecessary, the act keeps the both of you grounded.
Kanae treats you with the same carefulness as before, like handling an orchid. Her observing touches are softer than whispers as she memorizes your new face. Hope swells in her heart once more as the minutes pass by. Time slows down as you cautiously explore your new predicament. Kanae's curious smile grows into one of relief and delight.
In spite of the changes in your body, you are fully human by mind. This is wonderful news! Her dream of peacefully coexisting with demons seems more possible than ever. Kanae wishes you would have shown yourself to her earlier, but understands why you had your reservations. Still, she assures you that she will vouch for you when you return to the Demon Slayer Corps, so will the rest of the Butterfly Mansion.
Although an unconventional situation, it is also a source of hope for change. It is far too soon to be getting too excited over it, but a sense of happiness flowers in her heart. Kanae does not have to let go and say goodbye for once. Not only do you still live, but offer answers to so many questions everyone has about demons. No matter what happens from now, Kanae has chosen to defend you- and once she decides to do something, that decision is final.
