Chapter Text
“MORE!” Inosuke bellowed, holding out his apparently third bowl.
“I also request another one, master!” Kyojuro called cheerfully the moment the owner passed by to collect Inosuke’s empty dish.
The owner gave a startled blink, then chuckled. “Misters sure have a big appetite. Understood — just wait a minute.”
They were seated at a modest soba shop near the train station.
There has been report about mysterious disappearance of train passengers across region, the casualty has been recorded to be over 60, the numbers were too high to ignore. Headquarters had sent other slayers, but most of them never reported back.
That was why Kyojuro ─ and his ‘tsugukos’ ─ as a Hashira, had been summoned to investigate about it alongside with the other two slayers who still didn’t arrive yet.
Sumihiko stirred the broth in his bowl absentmindedly, not really eating anymore. “Over sixty people…” he murmured. “For them to managed it this cleanly, I’m surprised that we can even catch and count that many.”
“I also think so,” Tojuro said, tapping one of the reports beside the bowl. “Every survivor says the same thing after all — people vanish in the middle of the ride, no signs of a struggle, no bodies. They’re just gone.”
“Middle of what?” Inosuke asked, mouth full of noodles. “Is this one of those... horse cart things again?”
Sumihiko tilted his head. “No, they said it was a train.”
“What’s a train?” Inosuke and Tanjiro said in unison.
Sumihiko froze, he forgot that Tanjiro and Inosuke is raised in the middle of mountain. And that he supposed to be on the same situation as the two because of their cover story.
“...You two don’t know what a train is?” Zenitsu asked flatly, already regretting this conversation.
“Is it some kind of monster?” Inosuke asked with growing interest. “Can you ride it into battle?”
“It’s… a vehicle,” Tojuro offered weakly. “That moves. Very fast and using… uh… steam.”
“A boiling monster!?” Inosuke gasped.
“That sounds dangerous,” Tanjiro agreed.
Sumihiko, utterly deadpan, said, “Yeah, It… is dangerous.” He nodded very seriously. “But I don’t think it’s a monster…”
Zenitsu gave him the most dead-eyed stare imaginable. “I can’t believe that Tanjiro is your twin.”
“Just think it’s like you and Kaigaku.”
“This and that is different!!”
Kyojuro let out a hearty laugh, full of warmth. “It’s fine. I’ll explain on the way. Consider this your first ‘urban combat experience!’”
At that moment, the shop door is opened and two figures stepped inside — one with calm, silent steps, the other with an angry scowl.
Tanjiro blinked in surprise. “Kanao!?”
Tojuro’s brow furrowed. “Genya too!?”
Sumihiko is smiled happily. “It’s been a while you two!!”
Kanao gave a polite nod in greeting, her eyes scanning the group calmly. Genya grunted in reply, brushing dust off his sleeves as he stepped closer.
“Why I always got involved with you guys.” he asked, frowning.
“Complaining to us won’t do anything you know,” Sumihiko said, motioning to the half-empty bowls. “Want some?”
The owner peeked around from the kitchen. “More guests? I can have a few bowls ready in five!”
Genya sighed. “I guess we’ve got some minute.”
Kanao sat beside Tanjiro without a word, accepting the chopsticks offered to her. Genya remained standing at first, arms folded — then eventually sat down across from Tojuro with a reluctant grunt.
“So,” Genya started, characteristically blunt. “Any updates?”
Kyojuro’s ever-present smile softened into something more serious. “We’re awaiting the full report from the Kakushi. For now, they’ve managed to narrow the target down into two trains.”
“That’s a huge break for us!” Tojuro exclaimed. “Can you imagine how painful it would be to search on every train?”
“Don’t,” Genya grumbled, looking weary just thinking about it.
“Precisely!” Kyojuro agreed. “We’ll split into two groups—one will investigate the Mugen Train, and the other, the Yugen Train.”
Inosuke perked up mid-slurp. “We’re riding two monsters!?”
“They’re not monsters,” Zenitsu groaned, already exhausted. “We’ve been over this!”
Genya looks confused, but Zenitsu shoot him a look pleading for him to not ask.
Sumihiko rested his chin on his hand. “Mugen is the one that went back to the shed after the last disappearance, right?”
Tojuro nodded. “Yeah. The reports say the rumour about Mugen train is so worse that it got pulled in for repairs.”
“And Yugen’s still running,” Tanjiro murmured. “That’s… risky.”
“It’s bait,” Genya said flatly, taking his own bowl as it was set in front of him. “They’re using Yugen train to draw people in again.”
Kyojuro took a sip of tea, gaze steady. “Which is why we need to be thorough! We’ll speak to the Kakushi, review the sighting, then decide who boards which train.”
“Are we doing it tonight?” Kanao asked quietly.
“We board after investigating some more!” Kyojuro answered. “I overhear something interesting earlier.”
“Understood!”
Inosuke threw his bowl in the air. “I CALL THE BIGGER TRAIN!!!”
“There’s no size difference idiot!!” Zenitsu yelled.
“Let’s finish up,” Kyojuro said, rising. “We have work to do!”
The bowls were stacked, the bill paid, and the group filed out into the settling dusk — the scent of soba clinging to them as the shadows of the station began to stretch.
…
The station was quieter than expected.
Despite the usual sound of steam hissing and metal creaking, the platform held a strange stillness. Few passengers lingered. The shop stalls were open, but no one was browsing. Even the sparrows nesting under the eaves had gone quiet.
Sumihiko glanced around uneasily. “They said there was always a crowd here,” he murmured.
Tanjiro nodded. “There should be more people.”
“It’s the Slasher,” Tojuro added, voice low. “The Kakushi said rumours have spread fast. No one wants to hang around after dark.”
Kyojuro, walking slightly ahead, turned and smiled. “Then we must ease their fears with swift action!” he declared, as bright as ever.
“Right,” Genya muttered from the back. “But there's nothing strange so far.”
They continued forward, sandals clicking against the wooden platform. That’s when a sharp voice rang out near one of the bento stalls.
“Obaa-chan, I told you — we’re not closing up early again!” said a girl in her late teens, arms crossed, cheeks puffed with frustration.
Her elderly grandmother hovered nearby, clearly worried. “Fuku, please. What if the demon shows up again?”
“There are no demons! You’re just letting rumours get to you!”
The group paused, watching the scene unfold. To everyone’s surprise, Kyojuro walked straight toward them.
“Good evening,” Kyojuro said cheerfully and absolutely no hesitation, “Nice weather tonight, isn’t it? I’m here searching for a demon.”
All of them jerked like someone had thrown cold water on their backs.
Sumihiko choked on his spit. “He said that out loud—!?”
Zenitsu shrieked. “WE’RE STILL UNDERCOVER, RENGOKU-SAN!!”
The bento girl — Fuku — turned and blinked at him. “What?”
“I believe the slasher is the demon in question,” Kyojuro continued with a calm nod. “Do you know anything about it!?”
Tanjiro visibly twitched. “Kyojuro-san, we were supposed to be subtle—”
Genya could only stare, eyes wide with disbelief. “He really just… walked up and said it… and here I thought Tojuro is the worst Rengoku.”
“I hear that −ㅿ−´).”
“Wha—!?” Fuku’s expression twisted and her body began to shaking. “Are you serious!? What are you saying!”
“Careful,” Kyojuro said, worried. “If you keep shaking like that, you’ll end up dropping your bean-paste bun!”
“Out of all things, that’s what you’re worried about!!?” Genya snapped.
“Get out of here,” Fuku yelled and threw the bun at Kyojuro’s face.
It landed perfectly on his face. Fuku’s grandmother gasped at her granddaughter actions, so does the group.
Zenitsu choked. “SHE HIT A HASHIRA!?”
Inosuke looked impressed. “She’s got aim!”
Tanjiro froze in place, his smile twitching in slow motion. “Ahhh… that’s a bean bun…”
Sumihiko, deadpan. “As Genya-kun said, that’s what you’re worried about?”
But Kyojuro took the bun off his face, and took a bite.
“Umai!!” he said out loud.
The group collectively facepalmed.
“There are no demons here,” Fuku muttered, flustered. “Because demons don’t exist!”
“Fuku,” her grandmother said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down, dear. I don’t think he meant any harm.”
Fuku’s shoulders sagged. She looked down, guilt washing over her expression.
“Sorry…” she mumbled. “Everyone’s been so on edge lately. With the Slasher rumors, and the missing people… it’s just—”
“If what I overheard is true,” Kyojuro said, stepping forward with that same steady energy, “then you’ve both been working since before dawn, preparing and selling meals for others.”
He bowed his head slightly. "I appreciate your efforts! People who dedicate themselves to helping others should be able to live their lives in peace."
Then he stood tall again. “I’ll make sure the Slasher never harms anyone again!”
Fuku looked up, stunned. “Just… who are you?”
“Farewell!” Kyojuro replied brightly, already walking away like he hadn’t just declared war on a local urban legend in the middle of a lunch rush.
Inosuke nodded sagely. “He’s got the spirit of a war. I respect it!!”
Tojuro muttered, “This really is a Rengoku thing, huh…”
Genya looked horrified. “I don’t like what you’re implying with that…”
Zenitsu groaned. “You can’t just drop a line like that and walk away! That’s not normal behavior!”
"To be fair, everyone in the Demon Slayer Corps is basically a protagonist. We're all main cast material." Sumihiko answered.
"What the hell is a 'protagonist'!?" Zenitsu shrieked. "And what do you mean 'main cast'!? Can you really stop saying strange thing!!?"
Tanjiro hummed in agreement. "Mm, I don't think any of us would blend into a crowd very well."
"DON'T YOU START TOO, TANJIRO!!"
Genya frowned, looking genuinely confused. "Background characters? Like… extras in a festival performance?"
"Something like that," Sumihiko said with a shrug.
"YOU'RE NOT EXPLAINING ANYTHING!"
“Wait!” Fuku suddenly called out.
The group turned back. She was holding a wooden tray of freshly packed box lunches, still steaming faintly in the afternoon air.
“Um…” she hesitated, eyes flicking between them all. “If you don’t mind… would you buy a few? We made extra this morning…”
Kyojuro turned around instantly. “Good idea!” Then, with both hands on his hips and fire in his eyes, “Then! I’ll buy them all!”
The entire group flinched again.
“ALL!!?” Zenitsu yelped.
“Like—literally all?” Genya asked, incredulous.
While Fuku’s mouth hung open.
“Proper eating is the foundation of strength!” Kyojuro announced, already opening his coin purse.
Sumihiko sighed and murmured, “This really is how the mission begins, huh…”
“As Kyojuro-niisan said, eating is foundation of strength!”
“Of course you of all people would agree with him…” Sumihiko hold his head while shooting a look at Tanjiro who nodding along.
…
Sumihiko’s POV
I adjusted my pace to match Kanao-chan’s as we moved between crates and tarped freight piles. Neither of us spoke at first.
The silence felt awkward and yet also... comfortable, somehow. I’ve been around Tanjiro and Tojuro-kun (two loud people) so long that I begin to feel restless when it quiet. But this silence… it feels like home…
"Do you think she'll be alright?" I look surprise at Kanao, I didn’t really think she’ll be the one to broke the silence.
"You mean, Fuku-chan?" She’s nodded. "I think so. She was scared, but she still had the guts to throw a bun at a Hashira. That's something."
Kanao-chan’s lips curved just faintly, almost like the memory amused her. It was so subtle I almost missed it — the same way Kanata-niichan’s smiles always sneaked up, small but warm enough to change the whole air around him.
The resemblance made my chest ache.
"You really remind me of someone," I said before I could stop myself.
Her eyes flicked toward me, questioning, but I shook my head quickly. "Ah — it’s not bad! Just… someone important to me. He always looked calm too, like nothing could ruffle him. But when it mattered, he’d move first without thinking."
Kanao-chan blinked at that. “…Sounds reckless.”
I laughed under my breath. "Yeah. But he’s reliable."
We walked a few more steps in silence, the sound of our sandals against the wood blending with the distant murmur of voices at the station.
"You’re like that too, Kanao-chan," I admitted quietly. "Even when you don’t say much… it feels like you’re always watching. Always ready."
For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer. But then she said, barely above a whisper, “…If that helps you feel at ease, then I’m glad.”
Her words were simple. But the way she said them — like she didn’t even realize how much weight they carried — made something tighten in my throat.
I wanted to tell her everything — about Kanata-nii, about our family… her future family. But that would've been selfish, wouldn't it? Putting my loneliness onto someone who'd only just started opening up.
So, I smiled instead. "It does."
I wanted to hold onto her presence the way Tojuro-kun has with Kyojuro-san. The way he's started to with Senjuro-kun too — carefully, filling up his loneliness with another version of his family.
It's not that Tanjiro or the Kamados aren't enough. They've been kind, welcoming, and patient with us in ways we don't deserve.
But they're not him.
And I miss Kanata-nii so much that it hurts.
Kanao-chan was quiet for a moment. But I can feel her gaze boring into me before she spoke again. "Since we already done checking outside of train. Shall we now check the inside as ordered?"
Ah, back to business then. "Yeah, we need to check it quickly before the train set off."
We still have mission to do…
The steam curling off the Yugen train was thicker now, swirling at ankle height. The platform lanterns cast long shadows between the cars.
"Let's start from the back," I said. "If something's hiding, it'll take the path with the least eyes. Although there's no one beside us and some workers now."
Kanao-san was already moving. She stepped lightly onto the train's rear platform, her hand resting against the door frame for balance as she pushed it open without a sound.
Graceful. Deliberate. Just like—
I shook my head and followed. Now is not time for nostalgia again. I have to focus!
Inside, the passenger car was dim and nearly empty. Pale yellow light flickered overhead, and the scent of oil and steel hung in the air.
The floor creaked faintly under my feet—louder than Kanao-chan’s steps. She moved like a shadow, checking under benches, behind curtains, above luggage racks with barely a sound.
There were faint signs of earlier passengers — a half-folded blanket, a dropped handkerchief — but no blood, no presence of demon.
Just cold steel and silence.
"I don't like how quiet it is," I muttered.
Kanao-san paused near a window, her eyes narrowing.
I turned sharply, and then I heard it.
A low, wet dragging noise—like claws scraping along metal, just in front of us.
Then we hear a muffled scream, it’s not far. It’s coming from the next car.
My hand went to my blade instantly. "Kanao-chan—"
But she was already moving — a blur of motion disappearing through the connecting door.
I followed her, burst through the door — and froze.
A man slumped against the wall, eyes wide, blood trailing from a slice across his chest. His breath came in shallow rasps, each one weaker than the last.
And crouched just in front of him was the demon. Blue marks curled across its body like ceremonial paint, twisting as though they were alive. Its claws dripped fresh red, the scent of iron thick enough to choke on.
The demon grinned, eyes glowing like twin needles. "Ugh," it groaned, voice nasal and giddy. "This one didn’t even scream. So dull. What a letdown."
Its head tilted lazily, and then—its gaze slid toward me. "Oh!! A new one."
It lunged toward us, but Kanao-chan was already block and chase him away, deeper into the train. I wanted to follow, but the man gasped. Leaving a wet, desperate sound.
I dropped to my knees beside the wounded man and begin taking out all my first aid kit.
"Stay awake," I said quickly, pressing a strip of cloth to his wound. "You're lucky—the cut isn't that deep."
The man flinched, breathing fast. "H-He just appeared… out of nowhere—!"
"I know. You're safe now. Keep pressure here."
I reached into my satchel and pulled out a small vial—something that Tojuro-kun had given to us earlier, alongside the med kit.
"It'll sting for a second," I warned. “So please hold on.”
The man winced but nodded.
Outside, something slammed against metal. Probably it’s Kanao-chan forcing open the next car.
So the demon managed to run away…
I tied the makeshift bandage off with swift fingers and stood. My heart was pounding now — not from fear, but urgency.
"Stay low. Help is coming."
The man nodded, shaking.
And I turned and sprinted after Kanao-chan, sandals echoing down the corridor.
The demon's laughter still echoed faintly in the distance.
(I had to catch up.)
…
Normal POV
The rooftops stretched wide over the freight yard, tiles slick with moisture from the passing mist.
Tojuro moved in perfect rhythm behind Genya, keeping low and light on his feet. The wind tugged at his haori/coat as they crossed from one rooftop to the next.
"Why…" Genya growled under his breath, " why do I always get stuck with you?"
"Hm?" Tojuro glanced over with an innocent smile. "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean!" Genya's jaw tightened. "At final selection, Natagumo mountain mission, even at the butterfly mansion you guys always sleep and playing in my room! And now this!!"
"Oh!" Tojuro's face lit up like he'd just realized something wonderful. "You're right! We do get paired up a lot, don't we? Must be fate!"
"It's NOT fate!"
"Maybe Oyakata-sama sees how well we work together!" Tojuro continued brightly, landing beside him on the next roof. "It's really comforting to fight alongside a reliable friend! Wahahaha!"
Genya whipped around. "Stop calling me your friend!"
"Eh? But we've fought demons together multiple times now—"
"That doesn't make us friends!"
"—and you haven't tried to shoot me in weeks," Tojuro added thoughtfully, completely ignoring him. "I'd say we're making great progress!"
"I'm gonna shoot you RIGHT NOW if you don't shut up!!"
Tojuro just grinned wider, then moved ahead to the next rooftop.
Genya muttered something under his breath—probably a curse—but followed anyway.
They crossed another two rooftops in silence before crouched, his sharp eyes swept the alley below. "Nothing strange this side," he murmured.
"Hm, it's too quiet!" Tojuro said. His voice was low, focused. "They probably afraid of Slasher and didn't go out at night at all!"
Genya looked at him sideways. "Isn't that a good thing?"
Tojuro gave a short nod.
Then — a flicker.
At the far end of the alley, a figure stepped into the open. Broad-shouldered. Hairless scalp gleaming faintly under a hanging lamp. His skin was pale but traced with blue stripes, curling along muscle. His yellow eyes burned beneath black sclera, scanning the darkness lazily.
He stopped, sniffed the air — then turned his head slightly.
"Demon!!" Genya growled.
"How cute. You boys came all the way up there just to watch me walk?" The Slasher stretched his arms out wide. "Go on then. Take your shot."
Genya fired his bullet, aimed straight for the demon's head. And yet—
It hit nothing but empty air. (He's gone—!)
Tojuro saw the blur of motion — upward, arcing toward them like a hawk diving. "Genya, move!"
"Flame Breathing, Second Form: Rising Scorching Sun!"
A rising slash of fire cut upward to meet the demon mid-leap, but the Slasher twisted, claws catching the edge of the rooftop, redirecting himself sideways.
He landed between them in a crouch.
The roof tiles beneath them exploded. The Slasher landed like a hammer strike between the two boys, the impact kicking up a shrapnel storm of shattered clay and splintered wood.
Genya spun, blade out — but the Slasher was faster. "Gotcha." The demon's claws raked across his cheek in a clean diagonal.
A searing line of fire bloomed across Genya's cheek. Blood instantly welled and streaked down his face in a hot, crimson line.
Genya staggered, blood streaking down his face. "Damn it—!"
The Slasher stood his ground, examining the blood beading on his own claw. His smile never wavered. "A scratch for a shot. I think that's a fair price."
He dashed again to the right, trying to slip past again. But Tojuro stepped in. He took a breath — short, sharp.
"Flame Breathing, First Form: Unknowing Fire!"
The strike blazed through the air in a powerful horizontal arc, chasing the blur of the demon's body—
But it missed. The Slasher corkscrewed midair and landed on the roof's edge, crouched and laughing. "Ooooh, that was pretty! Let's see that again!"
Genya growled. "You want a show—fine." He lunged, breathing hard. His blade flashed—
But the demon spun low and slammed his palm across Genya's jaw with a crack.
"Tag! You're it!" He bounded away again, bouncing off roof like a dancer.
Tojuro pursued instantly — but a shadow fell between them.
Kanao descended from above, blade outstretched. She was already mid-form.
"Flower Breathing, Sixth Form: Whirling Peach."
"Water Breathing, Seventh Form: Drop Ripple Thrust!"
Her blade spiraled with delicate precision — while Sumihiko suddenly surged in beside her.
Twin strikes boxed the demon in. For a second, it looked like they had him.
But the Slasher bent at the waist, twisted his body between the narrowest of gaps, and slipped out.
His voice echoed behind them. "Too sloooooow~!"
"Sumihiko!" Tojuro called, pushing forward. "Left!!"
But the demon was already gone from the edge, his form flickering across the next rooftop, foot tapping tile with taunting rhythm.
Genya spat blood and lifted his rifle again, but his hands trembled — too shaken from the earlier blow to get a clean shot.
"Too late," the Slasher called from a rooftop ahead, lounging lazily like a cat.
Kanao's gaze narrowed. She was already calculating.
Tojuro took another breath, steadying the breath in his lungs. "If we're going to corner him—"
Sumihiko was already ahead of him. "We surround him, and not chase."
"Got it!" Genya muttered, repositioning higher, leaping across a broken awning with a pained grunt.
Below, Kanao disappeared into the narrow alleys, silent and fast. While Sumihiko and Tojuro flanked left and right, kicking off in sync.
The Slasher watched all of it. "Ohhh," he purred. "Trying to box me in again? I'm flattered."
Tojuro didn't respond. He dropped into the next roof with a controlled slide — eyes locked, breath steady.
"Flame Breathing, Sixth Form: Raging Flame Wave!"
A sweeping barrage of flame slashes rolled forward like a crashing tide—wide, relentless, cutting off the demon's escape route to the right.
The Slasher's grin faltered. He leaped left — straight into Sumihiko's blade.
"Sumihiko!"
"Water Breathing, Second Form: Water Wheel!"
A spinning arc of water crashed toward him. The demon twisted mid-air, claws sparking against the blade, deflecting just enough to avoid a clean hit.
But it forced him down onto the narrow street below.
Where Kanao was waiting.
"Flower Breathing, Fourth Form: Crimson Hanagoromo."
Her blade whispered across his back in a clean, elegant stroke. The demon shrieked, spinning and slashing wildly — catching nothing but air.
For the first time, the Slasher didn't grin. Instead, he glared at his wounded arm. Blood dripped to the grounds.
"…I see," he murmured. "You're not as pathetic as the last ones."
He turned toward the darkness at the far end of the yard. "Unfortunately," he said, voice turning cold, "this act is over."
"No you don't—!" Genya started to shot.
But the demon moved. Vanished into the mist.
The rooftops were quiet again.
He growled, chest heaving. "Damn it…!"
"He's hurt," Sumihiko said, wiping his mouth. "He won't go far."
"No," Kanao murmured. "He won't. But he knows this area better than us."
Tojuro exhaled sharply and sheathed his sword. "Next time… we don't let him run."
…
His blood painted the rooftop tiles behind him, every step a splatter, every breath shallow and sharp.
The wound across his ribs burned — not just from pain, but from insult.
The Slasher dropped to the edge of a station roof. His hand trembled as it pressed to his side. Sticky warmth seeped between his fingers.
He didn’t smile this time. “… Next time, I’ll definitely kill you… brat!!” he muttered to himself.
He sniffed the air. No trace of them anymore. They weren’t chasing, good. That meant they thought he was done.
He ducked down behind a smokestack and waited. Waited for the footsteps. For some food to recover his injury.
And there it was.
Soft sandals. A woman. His eyes lit up. A flicker of gold under the black sky.
“Found you.”
He melted back into the shadows and dropped soundlessly from the rooftop.
…
The smell of medicine and fresh porridge lingered faintly in the room.
Bandages were being changed. Clothes laid out in neat piles. The light filtering through the paper windows was pale and cold — not quite day, not quite cloudy either.
Sumihiko sat against the wall, arms draped loosely over his knees. Across from him, Genya leaned on the edge of the room, a fresh bandage taped over his cheek.
Kanao was seated by the window, quiet as always, eyes trained on nothing. Beside her, Zenitsu sat slumped below the window, arms wrapped around his knees.
And lastly, Tojuro stirred his tea without drinking it. The news of what happen had affected them all.
Footsteps approached down the hallway. Then came Inosuke’s voice, blunt and loud as always. “She’s alive! That’s what matters, right?”
The door slid open, and Inosuke stood there, arms crossed. Behind him, Tanjiro entered with a bow. His face was drawn, eyes tired, but steady.
“Luckily, we found her in time,” he said. “But… the demon had already eaten her. And her arm was—”
He stopped. A second passed.
Sumihiko’s throat tightened. “But she’s alive?”
Tanjiro nodded. “She passed out from shock, but we stopped the bleeding and called for a Kakushi team. She will be moved to another facility after this.”
“She won’t be back here,” Inosuke added. “She needs to calm down.”
Tojuro asked, “Did you kill him?”
Tanjiro shook his head. “He ran away before we could see him. He was healed enough to move fast, and we couldn’t risk fighting and abandoning an injured woman.”
Inosuke cracked his knuckles and grin. “Next time I see that striped freak, I’m tearing him apart! He’s not slipping away again!”
Genya grunted. “Should’ve shot his teeth out while I had the chance.”
“You did try,” Sumihiko muttered.
“I was distracted!”
Tojuro finally sipped the tea. “I thought we had him last night,” he said. “We actually managed to injured him.”
“He’s just too fast,” Kanao said softly.
The room settled into silence again. Even Inosuke didn’t speak — just paced to the corner, arms crossed tight across his chest. His brows were drawn, not angry exactly, just frustrated.
Genya adjusted the bandage on his cheek. “And now he’s healed. Again.”
“He would’ve healed eventually,” Zenitsu murmured. “He’s a demon, after all.”
Sumihiko’s eyes dropped to the floor. “We should have finished him. If we hadn’t split up—”
“We might not have made it in time,” Tanjiro said gently. “If we hadn’t been there initially and found her…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. The silence is heavy through the room.
That’s when the sliding door opened again.
Kyojuro stepped in quietly this time. No booming voice. No confident laughter. Just calm, measured steps.
“The Kakushi confirmed it,” he said. “She stabilized this morning.”
Everyone looked up.
Kyojuro set the letter down on the table. “She was able to speak briefly. Enough to describe him. It matches the demon you four had encounter.”
Kanao bowed her head slightly. “It was the same one.”
Genya scoffed. “Of course it was. Who else do you think it is beside that bastard.”
Kyojuro didn’t deny it. He moved to the center of the room, kneeling beside Tojuro. “You all did well. You made the right choice.”
Tojuro looked at him, expression unreadable.
Kyojuro’s voice dropped slightly. “You don’t always get to save a life. That is just the reality.”
Tojuro exhaled — not quite relief. Just less tension.
“Tonight, we try again!” Kyojuro continued.
He looked to each of them in turn — Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Genya, Kanao, Sumihiko, Tojuro, and finally Inosuke.
“Let’s start devising plan!!”
…
Genya’s POV
Kanao didn’t say a word.
She never did, unless you counted glancing at you like she knew what you were thinking. Well, it’s not like I’m the most sociable person either to be honest. That’s title go to the duo sunshine, although I kinda notice that Tojuro has been quitter than usual during this mission.
The two of us moved along the east of the station. The mist was thin tonight, but the shadows stuck around — always deeper where the lanterns flickered.
“We should’ve had him last night,” I muttered, not looking at her.
No reply.
“…I had a shot. He moved like he knew it was coming.”
Still nothing. She’s seriously not gonna reply?
I finally glanced over. She was walking just behind me, posture perfect, hand resting lightly on her sheathed blade. “You always this quiet?”
“Yes.”
“…Right.” Apparently, she’s worse than me…
We stopped near a stack of broken pallets. I raised a hand and crouched, checking a trail of marks on the ground.
“Movement,” I said. “A minute ahead, maybe less.”
Kanao only nodded.
I clicked my tongue, shifted the gun into my hands. “Bet he’s looking for food again.”
She tilted her head slightly. “We won’t let him.”
“Right.” I exhaled through my nose. “Let’s make sure he regrets it.”
That’s when I heard it — not a footstep exactly, more like something slicing through the air just fast enough to disturb the stillness.
Then a scent hit my nose.
Blood.
“He’s there,” I said.
I turned the corner and saw a flicker of movement dart between the alley shadows.
The Slasher.
“Oi!” I raised my gun.
Boom.
The shot cracked through the still night — clipped his shoulder. He snarled, teeth flashing, and turned our way.
Kanao was already in motion. She breathed in — soft, controlled — and disappeared from my side like a wisp of wind.
“Flower Breathing, First Form: Cherry Blossom Whirlwind.”
Her blade swept in a wide, elegant arc. The Slasher twisted away, barely missing the edge of her steel.
The bastard’s grin dropped for half a second. Not because he was scared — just annoyed. He skidded back, crouched low, one hand clutching his bleeding shoulder.
“You again!” he hissed, eyeing us both. “Didn’t I defeat you already!?”
I raised my rifle again. “In your dream!”
Kanao slid back beside me, not panting, not blinking — like it had been a warm-up stretch. I don’t know how she does that. She’s like a damn shadow with legs.
“Think he knows we were waiting for him?” I asked quietly.
“He does,” she replied without hesitation.
The Slasher laughed. “Of course I do. You’re not the first ones to try this trick.”
Then he moved, back down the alley the way he came, zigzagging between crates and beams like a snake on fire.
I didn’t shoot.
Not anymore.
… After all.
“Go on. Run west, you striped freak.” I grinned. It goes as planned.
Conveniently so if I want to complain.
Kanao didn’t chase either. Just watched his form vanish between the narrow gap in the stone wall, heading straight into the next sector.
“He’s falling for it,” I said.
She nodded. “Tanjiro and Inosuke will catch him.”
I checked the special rounds Tojuro had given me before we left. The bullets had been soaked in that weird concoction of his — looked like purple sludge, smelled like burned wisteria and something bitter.
[One shot,] Tojuro had said, dead serious for once. [Just one clean hit. It'll start burning through his energy. Every healing attempt will drain him faster.]
Remembering the scene, I chambered the special round, feeling its weight. Heavier than normal. Like it was soaked in more than just poison.
“Man, Tojuro sure have a good idea sometimes. If only he always serious like this. Although… what do you think?”
“What is it?”
I honestly don’t know whether to tell her or not. It’s not my problem in the first place, “Nothing, forget it.”
“… You care about him, don’t you?”
“HAH!!? Who cares about him!!? Not me! Definitely not me!! I don’t care about him!! Tojuro has been nothing but annoying, loud, talkative, and an airhead. And I definitely didn’t think him being silent now is worrying!!”
Kanao didn’t flinch, she just blinked again. As if saying that she’s not convinced that is the case.
“Tch—!!” I looked away sharply. “Shut up.”
Silence fell between us again. The kind that prickled a little, like a rock in your shoe.
I crouched, checking the alley one more time. Though the Slasher was long gone, I just want something to do.
Kanao knelt beside me. Her presence was quiet but solid, like a second shadow.
Finally, I muttered, “He’s not acting like himself.”
She nodding, but didn’t say anything.
“Normally I can’t get him to shut up for five seconds,” I went on, scowling at nothing. “Now he barely talks. Doesn’t joke. Doesn’t ramble. And when he smiles... I don’t know, it just feels… different.”
Kanao didn’t answer right away. She just watched the mist roll past the station lights. Then softly, she said, “Some people get quieter before they break.”
My fingers tightened around the gun stock.
“…Yeah,” I murmured. “I noticed.”
We stayed there for a moment — just long enough to hear a distant thud echo in the next sector.
I stood, chambered a fresh round, and slung the rifle back over my shoulder.
“Let’s move,” I said. “We still have job to do.”
Kanao nodded once, already following.
We didn’t speak again. But I knew she understood.
…
Inosuke’s POV
This rooftop was the worst.
No trees to climb, no branches to hang off, no beasts to tackle. Just bricks, tiles, and a stupid breeze that smelled something called city. I hated city! The wind didn’t roar right!!
I was squatting low, ready to pounce for the eighth time when I looked over and saw ─ what is his name again? Seimaro? — just sitting there.
Doing nothing!!
“Hey,” I whispered. “What if he’s already dead?”
Kentaro didn’t even blink.
“Or what if he turned into a rat? A STRIPED RAT. With knives for teeth.” Still nothing.
I tapped my mask. “Or he burrowed under the train station, and he’s already escaped through the floor and is halfway out of Kyoto!”
Finally, Gonojiro looked at me. With that annoying kind of calm that makes you want to bite something.
“He hasn’t escaped,” he said. “I can still smell him.”
“Smell is weak,” I growled. “My sense is better. And my sense says he’s doing something sneaky.”
Monjiro raised an eyebrow. “Your sense also said the tree was a demon.”
“That tree was suspicious and you know it!”
He smiled — smiled! — like this was all a joke!
“Maybe you should try waiting quietly,” he said.
“Hah!? Inosuke-sama doesn’t wait! He’s pounce!” He gave me a look. Not mad. Just... tired.
“Fine,” I muttered. “But if he doesn’t show in the next thirty seconds, I’m flipping this roof upside-down!”
That’s when I sensed something wrong speeding to us. Like a predator bleeding into view.
My whole spine lit up.
“There he is,” Mashiro said softly, already standing.
I roared. “FINALLY!!”
The demon burst into view like he was shot out of a cannon — streaking across the rooftop two levels below, shoulder bleeding, eyes wild. He glanced up, saw us—
And scowled. “Seriously!? Another slayer!? Just how many are you in here!!?”
“BOAR RUSH!!!!” I bared my blades, dropping from the ledge.
He twisted, claws flashing, tried to leap away — but Amajunko was faster.
Steel scraped across skin — not deep, but enough. The demon howled, flipped backward midair, and skidded across the roof tiles.
I landed hard beside him. “You run like a weak worm!”
“Get out of my way!” he spat.
“Make me!!” He slashed. I blocked. He spun. I chased.
Arijuro cut again from the side — his breathing sharp and focused.
But the demon was slippery. One more exchange — and then he was off again, vaulting from the roof, disappearing into the west.
“Heh. He's scared.” I stood at the edge, panting.
Tanjiro landed beside me. “We drove him the right direction at least. Next team’s waiting.”
I puffed out my chest. “Of course we did! Because I was here! He ran because he saw the great Inosuke-sama’s FANGS!”
Sumiro just smiled, brushing dust from his haori. “Or maybe it was the blades.”
“Same thing!!” I barked. “Blades are just fangs for hands!”
He hummed thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense…?”
I flopped onto the roof tiles, arms spread wide like I owned the whole sky. “Still. He’s fast. Faster than last night.”
Mochiro sat beside me, cross-legged. “He fed. Probably just enough to recover, but not enough to fully heal. That’s why we were able to land hits.”
“Still didn’t cut deep enough,” I muttered. “Next time, I’m going for the spine.”
There was a pause. Then he said, “You really care, don’t you?”
“Hah!?” I rolled over and glared at him through my boar mask. “Care about what?”
“The people he hurt. The ones we didn’t get to save last time.”
I didn’t answer right away. The mist was starting to creep back across the station lights, soft and ghosty.
“…He made someone lose an arm,” I finally said. “That’s not just running away. That’s stealing.”
Asaro looked at me, something warm and sad in his eyes. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. Inosuke-sama is always right! I’m the leader after all!!”
“I thought Kyojuro-san was the one leading this mission?”
“I let him lead. Because I’m generous like that.”
He snorted. “Very humble of you.”
“Exactly!!”
I sat up again, shaking the mist off my shoulders. “Besides, if it weren’t for me, that demon would’ve clawed a hole through the middle of this whole plan!”
“And yet he still got away,” Tanjiro said gently.
“Tch. Yeah, but only because we let him. That’s part of the plan, right?”
He nodded, "Genya already poisoned him. Right now, every time his body tries to heal those cuts we're giving him, he's burning energy faster than normal."
I sat up, suddenly interested. "So he's getting weaker?"
"Exactly. But if we let him stop to rest or ambush someone to feed, he'll recover. We have to keep him moving, keep him desperate."
Aijuro eyes were sharp now, focused. "Every team has the same job - intercept him when he tries to hunt, land a few hits, then let him 'escape' in the direction we want."
"Toward the station!"
"Toward the station," he confirmed. "Where Kyojuro-san and Zenitsu are waiting."
I cracked my knuckles. "So we're not hunting him. We're herding him to the slaughter."
"...That's one way to put it."
I grinned under the mask. “Like cornering a wild boar in a canyon!”
Konjiro tilted his head. “You’ve… done that before?”
“Once. But the boar cornered me instead. So, I punched him and he’s became my uncle.”
“…I see...”
I slapped my thighs and stood up. “It means we’re almost done!”
Tanjiro stood with me. His smile faded into something more serious. “He’s close to the end of the line now.”
I cracked my knuckles, then leapt to the next rooftop. “Tonight, we gut the stripes!!”