#But he's not the fighting kind so he gambles for a sense of involvement

[iskratempestmadness]

Psychological analysis

This analysis was not performed by a professional!

Based on the manga, as in the anime some points were cut down.

Baki

Main character traits: determination, perseverance, sensitivity, calmness (mostly), sometimes aggressiveness, carelessness, gambling, resourcefulness, frivolity (in a sense, childish behavior)

with close people, the qualities are more clearly manifested: caring, wisdom, tenderness

Behavior in various situations:

• Negative (Stressful) :

When the hero was still a teenager, he reacted more vividly to stressful situations. The death of his mother was, of course, a stressful event for him, and affected him to such an extent that the boy sees hallucinations at the moment when the dead mother's duck is carrying. It seems to him that he is having a conversation with a woman, but she has been dead for some time.

At a more mature age, the hero's behavior changed. He reacts to stress, but not as vividly as before. The world around him is quite conflicted and fast, so that he gets used to a lot of stress with age.

Positive (Success) :

In the world surrounding the hero, success is equated with victory over the enemy. It turns out that the more victories a person wins, the more successful he is.

During the children's arch, the hero is quite successful and experiences positive emotions in this regard. But since the goal is to defeat the father, he does not fully experience these emotions. The hero is moving towards this goal, he could consider himself successful. Along this timely path to her, the hero naturally experiences emotions, feels his progress, but anticipating his feelings of victory over his father, he does not feel them fully.

At a more mature age, the hero experiences positive emotions less often. After being defeated by his father, and before him, the hero experiences boredom, which is why he gets involved in the story with Miyamoto Musashi, and later with Nomi No Sukune. However, in society, the hero is considered quite successful, he is a champion, fought with Pickle, Yujiro and other strong fighters and did not die, he can well be called successful.

Despite this, Baki does not feel happy, he does not feel positive emotions because of success. He knows perfectly well that he is successful, but it does not bring him positive emotions. They seem to fade.

Motivation:

• protection of loved ones

An example of this point would be Kazue's defense. It can be seen as in the case of the skirmish with Sikorsky, as well as the skirmishes with Yanagi (and Sikorsky). So, we can say that the hero is developing for this aspect as well.

• Father's love

Baki understood that he could earn his father's respect and love only by fighting him, becoming a rival for him. Only then could he admit it to her. This is perhaps the main reason why the hero is developing.

Contradictions in character:

• the desire for maximum comfort and the maximum amount of training (dedication)

Self-assessment:

Normal. The hero has no illusions about himself and at the same time he treats himself realistically.

Injuries:

• father

The absence of a father in the boy's life. Despite the fact that Yujiro was in Baki's life, but he did not perform all the functions as a father. He didn't help Baki settle into everyday life. He didn't teach him the usual things, other than fighting and training.

• mother

Non-recognition on the part of the mother, a kind of manifestation of love on her part. Emi, for a while, used the hero as a means to achieve love from Yujiro. However, she later protects her son from his father, but dies in the process. Which is also a hero's injury.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super Manga Ch. 59-63

Kind of wish this were ending for real, you know what I mean?

So after a lot of false starts and pointless runarounds, it finally comes down to Goku vs. Moro on Earth.  Goku’s been training with Merus to master his Ultra Instinct power, but the best he can manage is the “Ultra Instinct Sign” thing that he used to defeat Kefla in the anime.  Merus proposed a strategy where Goku relied on this incomplete UI, so Goku’s trying to fight carefully so as not to wear out his stamina, so he can use this ability as long as possible. 

And that seems to be all he needs at first.  Moro can’t touch Goku, and he can’t even drain his energy, because Goku is moving so fast that he’s dodging the energy drain effect.  But there’s just one problem: Moro hasn’t been using his full power.  He’s consumed a lot of planets since Goku saw him last, and he had no reason to show off his increased strength until now.

So Goku abandons Merus’ strategy and gambles everything on a more direct approach.  Instead of conserving his power, Goku uses his full strength, thinking he can still out-power Moro.  He just needs to finish him off quickly before his Ultra Instinct runs out.

While all of this has been going on, Vegeta is still on Yardrat, because he only just finished mastering the technique he came here to learn.  He doesn’t like cutting it this close, but since he can still sense Moro on Earth, he figures it’s not too late.  Once he’s finally ready, he asks Elder Pybara to teleport him to Earth, but Pybara says he can’t as Yardratti are forbidden from interplanetary teleportation. The fuck?  Also, Pybara says that they can only use it to go to someone they’ve met before.  The fuck?

So now Vegeta has to learn Instant Transmission on top of whatever he learned to use against Moro.  And this is bullshit, because even though I can buy Vegeta mastering all these Yardrat tricks in record time, it doesn’t add anything to the story.  Why not just have Pybara teleport him to Earth? 

Eventually, Pybara decided to break the rule and just teleport Vegeta after all, but then he thinks he’s finally figured it out.  Also, Goku got beaten up to the point where his UI form has worn off, so Vegeta can sense his energy again to lock on to his position. 

Wait, so how is Goku not dead during all of this?  Well, 17 and 18 pitch in, and since Moro can’t absorb their energy, they can hold him off for a little while.  I mean, it kind of makes sense in a post-Tournament-of-Power scenario that Piccolo, Gohan, Krillin, Tien, Roshi, and 17 and 18 could hang with an opponent like Moro.  They don’t have to beat him, but they ought to be able to keep him good and frustrated, just like Jiren.  But this arc doesn’t really play into that idea, at least not to my satisfaction.

All right, so Vegeta finally arrives, and he basically declares that he never intends to use Instant Transmission again.  What the fuck? The last few adventures he’s been on have involved teleporting across outer space or whatever, and he hates holding Goku’s hand in order to do it.  You’d think he’d be thrilled to be able to teleport under his own power.  Even if he hates teleportation on principle, he’s an idiot if he thinks he’ll never need to try this again, so why wouldn’t he perfect his technique so he can do it properly?

It’s like this whole thing was contrived to get Vegeta back to Earth as quickly as possible, and also show that he can do Instant Transmission, but at the same time, Toyotaro wanted to walk that back, because not doing Instrant Transmission is kind of a Vegeta trademark.  Personally, I don’t give a shit if Vegeta can do Instant Transmission or not, but if you’re going to write a manga story where he learns how, then you need to commit to that decision.   Toyotaro is trying to have it both ways, and I really don’t understand that, since the whole point of this Yardrat subplot was so Vegeta could learn a different cool technique anyway.  He doesn’t need Instant Transmission, so it would have been simpler to just have Pybara teleport him to Earth.  Fuck this story.

Now, I’ve been pretty hard on the Moro arc, but I will offer some positives about this thing.  The art has been on-point all along.  Moro’s got a cool design, and the action scenes are impactful.  Toyotaro has the skills that pay the bills, whether the haters want to admit it or not.  Also, I’ve noticed Vegeta is a lot sassier in this arc than in previous ones.  I approve of this. 

As to the fight itself, Vegeta starts off in Super Saiyan Blue, which ought to be no match for Moro at this level, and Moro seems to have the upper hand at first.  But every time Moro touches Vegeta, he loses some of the power he’s stolen from all those dead aliens.  That’s because Vegeta has learned the Spirit Fission technique, which is a Yardratti move that dissolves absorbed or fused ki.  For example, Vegeta claims that he can undo the fusion of Piccolo with Nail and Kami, which is an intriguing thought.  I guess if Super Buu ate Gotenks right now, Vegeta could one-shot him and separate him back into Kid Buu, the Kais, and Goten and Trunks. 

Meanwhile, all the dead Namekians come back to life?  What?  Bulma asks how that’s possible, since Moro absorbed their life force months ago.  Esca thinks it’s because the Dragon Balls on New Namek somehow preserved their bodies? Okay, come on.  Seriously?  Why is this page even in the story?  Why do the Namekians need to be revived in this moment anyway?  They were just going to use the Dragon Balls to revive everyone anyway. 

I mean, that’s a ridiculous explanation, because the Namekian Dragon Balls were deactivated when Moori was killed, and even if they were somehow still functional, they’ve never been established to have that sort of ability.  But more importantly, why is Toyotaro tossing out a bullshit explanation for this in the first place?  The revived Namekians don’t actually do anything at this juncture, so why bother with this at all?

So Vegeta clobbers Moro until he weakens to the level he was at when he first broke out of prison, I guess.  Then Vegeta asks Jaco if he should kill him.  What?  What? 

So Moro manages to slip away and escape to his spaceship, where he finds Seven Three and swallows him whole, absorbing his body and becoming...

... this guy!  Okay, so this is a major downgrade in design, but at least now I understand the context of it.  The idea is to combine Moro’s body with Seven Three’s, but the result ends up being shittier than the individual designs.  Plotwise, it makes sense, because it seemed weird that Moro would allow Seven Three to keep a copy of Moro’s powers.  But it turns out Moro wanted it this way because if he lost his powers for some reason, he could just eat Seven Three and get them all back.  Also, Moro now has the ability to copy other people’s powers, so that’s a thing. 

Vegeta isn’t too worried, since he can just Spirit Fission Moro all over again, except he’s lost the element of surprise.  Moro can just avoid his blows and not lose any of his strength.

Goku, Piccolo, and Gohan managed to do a cool trick to hold Moro in place long enough for a Kamehameha, but it doesn’t work and Moro punches a hole in Goku.  I really hate when they do this spot with characters who can’t regenerate or survive these kinds of wounds.  If you did this to Cell, then fine, because Cell could grow back, and if Goku was about to die after this scene, then you could do it to him.  But instead he’s just going to get healed up again and be just fine.  It’s dumb.

So then Merus jumps back in, even though we’ve established that he’s forbidden from interfering in mortal affairs.  Whis warned him against fighting Moro as he planned, and yet, Whis has curiously taken his eyes off the guy while all of this is going on. 

Moro doesn’t know Merus is an angel, and Goku seems to be the only one who understands what’s going on.  He pleads with Merus to stand down, since he’ll cease to exist if he keeps fighting with his angelic powers.  And that’s Merus’ whole plan.  Goku needs to use the complete Ultra Instinct to win this thing, and Merus thinks he can get Goku to reach that level by sacrificing himself in the battle with Moro.  So either Goku can rise to the occasion, or he’ll be forced to watch Merus disappear.

And I mean literally, because Merus starts to fade out as he fights more seriously.  I thought the Grand Minister was going to execute him or something, but apparently this whole thing is automatic.

So then Merus uses the last of his, uh... existence... to destroy the crystals in Moro’s body that came from Seven Three’s copy ability.  They were in Seven Three’s head before, but now there’s one on Moro’s forehead, and one in each palm.  Anyway, Moro tried to copy Merus’ powers, but Merus cut off that hand before it could take effect.  He smashes the other two crystals  and then disappears once and for all.

And we’ll call it there.  Next time we’ll go through the “epic” finale of the Moro Saga. 

[anx1oustig3r]

At the beginning point of Clean Slate, how do Lina and Mireska split household chores?

are both of them okay with how things are split, or is there any animosity or resentment on either end?

O VERY GOOD QUESTION

i think at the very very start, back when mireska was the one working, lina usually handled stuff during the day, so things that involved cleaning and looking after flint who was a pretty easy going tot (when he was an only child). she liked doing this, it kept her busy and feeling like she was needed but it also didn’t put her in a position where she could explode and hurt people. mireska usually cooked and cleaned up at night along with keeping track of their funds and taking over with their son. she was also fine with that. that’s stuff she was good at and she liked flint, he responded well to her as a parent.

but then later on, after ash is born and mireska loses her job, things start to go into a bit of a tail spin. lina takes some security work for the gambling hall which has her working late and dealing with all kinds of tiring shit, so mireska ends up with most of the chores that she doesn’t particularly like along with, having to watch both of her kids, one who is incredibly difficult and she also doesn’t like.

so she has flint start doing a lot of them “to help”, and then he starts getting ash to help him which mireska then uses as an excuse to shirk more if her own chores.

she still cooks but even then you can argue that’s not doing a lot since they’re financially in trouble and don’t get a whole lot of food in. she stops bothering to clean up after and just goes straight to the pub any chance she gets, leaving an exhausted lina and her two kids to follow up.

so initially when they moved in together, they had a system they were both okay with, but over time it kinda collapsed and now both are pretty resentful. mireska in the sense of she feels like she’s been overloaded, having no time for herself (at heart she’s still a spoiled rich child) and lina in the sense of she’s trying her best to keep things together and her wife is passively fighting her at every turn and making things worse for them all.

[manybcdthings]

CHARACTER UPDATES: CHAPTER 4

HUNTER CROSS - Thunder River

Focused on making sure Mason and Tyr is okay, refusing to admit his own emotions obviously.

Is heavily involved in formulating a plan of escape and later joins the group that makes a run for it.

Will be willing to do anything shady or defiant while in the camp, possibly starting up a gambling thing so people can win or lose supplies.

Thread Ideas: Gambling, loss/win of supplies. Fighting. Solitary or getting cuffed to someone he doesn't like. General plotting of escape. Muse level: Med-High

ETHAN JONES - Hollow Cove

He's once again stressed because of everything LOL

He gets JJ onto the first supply run that's sent out.

Is trying to help Everett navigate the return of Maren as well, while keeping everything afloat while Teddy is missing.

He will be against the revision of a three day grace period, simply because he understands the complexities that can happen out on the road and thinks it risks further supplies or risk to higher numbers.

Thread Ideas: Suspicions of being a little underhanded with his position on council to get Jackson on the first search. Push back of him not wanting to change the grace period. General stress threads too. Muse Level: Med-High

JACOB MARSHALL - Hollow Cove

Will be willing to help the Jones' pack join searches etc for Teddy

Doesn't particularly have opinions about the grace period

Is focused on working through the town and searching for his brother.

Thread Ideas: A search party thread where something happens, or after it's happened. Maybe a clue is found on a run that brings him closer to his brother. Injury, general chaos is kind of funny for him. Muse Level: Low-Med

GABRIEL RAMOS - Hollow Cove

Is still searching for Amaris and Cece whenever he gets the chance.

Starts helping the Jones' look for Teddy, could potentially get more sidetracked helping Charlie.

Will be helping with work around the town but is usually quiet and brooding I should stop writing characters like him.

Thread Ideas: Runs, working, and general formulating plans threads. Muse Level: Low-Med

CAS GRIMM - Hollow Cove

Will be working closely with the Vissers as always

Isn't at all willing to go on search parties for Thorin and Egil.

Still grumpy about Esje and Loki.

Thread ideas: Could potentially sabotage a run that Loki goes on, not the first one but another, he's petty enough. Is sent on a search for Thorin and Egil lol. Muse Level: Low-Med

ALEX DABROWSKI - Hollow Cove

Has no desire to search for Dominic

Will mainly be working around town and avoiding his own pack.

Thread Ideas: I haven't written him so I couldn't possibly say what would work. I think throwing him into some action is a good idea. Rose threads should happen with some angst for sure. Muse Level: Low-Med

FELIX RANSTROM - Hollow Cove

Has a lot going on that's plot specific sorry but it'll be on the dash.

Is generally hands on around the town.

Thread Ideas: Either making unexpected friends or even enemies works for him every time. Specifically, if he makes friends or an enemy with a high position through the town this could be something used later. Muse: High despite me writing nothing here that helps HAHAHA wow ok onto the next

RUBEN GRAY - Hollow Cove

Is no longer with the Vissers and will be trying to get into the Vaisman good graces, but with Kenzie gone it's difficult for him to be promised a place in the pack again.

He's befriending the Murphy's during this time period but offering help to search for Allie and Kenzie, while also continuing searches for his brother.

Thread Ideas: I think this will mostly be Visser, Vaisman and Murphy threads that make the most sense for him right now. Muse Level: Low-Med

HATI JANSEN - Hollow Cove

Obviously he loves his brothers so will be joining whatever he can to search for them.

Is not that interested in the goings on in Hollow Cove and will always follow Roan and Rineike's lead

Thread Ideas: Being put on a shift with someone would be hilarious but potential to turn nasty at any second. Searches and runs too work for him well. Pretty much anything goes. Muse Level: Med-High

MARLEY CARTER - Hollow Cove

Is kind of a reluctant team player in the town, doesn't get involved in the politics either.

Is focused on ensuring Maren is okay and slowly getting to grips with the fact they're staying with the Jones' and getting to know everyone.

Is generally talkative even if it's a one sided conversation and he talks his own opinions for hours.

Thread Ideas: Shift threads, easily argumentative ones too. Maybe surprising people that he's pretty resourceful and useful on a run or a search. Muse Level: Med-High

GUNNAR ALFSSON - Hollow Cove

Will be mainly helping his brother and Skadi find any kind of clues for their children, but it's a difficult situation as no one is a hundred percent sure they're alive.

Will be mainly working with the Vissers and for their vision with little to no interest in the rest of the town.

Thread Ideas: Similar to Cas but Gunnar is nicer and probably easier to thread with. Has the potential to be a little edgy. But anything goes for him much like Hati. Muse Level: Med-High

VALI 'JINX' NIELSEN - Thunder River

Will be willing to help formulate an escape from the camp, he's easy to talk to and can make friends well.

But also he's annoying so can easily make enemies as well.

Thread Ideas: Getting into a bit of a scrap, or causing a commotion by accident that alerts guards etc. Maybe he finds a good bit of intel from one of the soldiers that no one listens to at first until he's proved right. Anything goes with Vali too. Muse Level: Med-High

COLE FOSTER - TRAVELING

Has plot specific situations on the dash

NICHOLAS WINSLOW - Hollow Cove

Also will have plot specific situations on the dash

He's mainly focused on the things happening within the Belcourt coven but he's easy to interact with.

Will be for the revision of the 3 day grace period just because he's nice lol

Thread Ideas: Honestly, I can't come up with any that are outside of Belcourt interactions at this time but I'd be down for anything and he's easy to talk to. Muse Level: Med-High

MARULF CARHILDR - Hollow Cove

This man does NOTHING. He doesn't even think about anything other than his own world he lives in

Thread Ideas: Talking a bunch of bullshit, annoying people, being forced to work but ultimately talking his way out of it. Muse Level: Med-High

SILAS DEMPSEY - Traveling

Has plot specific situations on the dash

CRUZ MEDINA - HOLLOW COVE

This guy is an asshole that can easily appear as the best guy around so there's lots of potential.

Doesn't really give a shit about the happenings in the town, or people missing. He's more focused on finding more of his own pack

But he will be working HARD and helping ANYONE

Thread Ideas: Lots to be done with him, definitely if there's a situation that usually he'd resolve by punching someone in the face, but can't, and maybe we can plot out a sinister revenge story too. Excited to write him doing anything. Muse Level: High

[xoteajays]

That is your decision if you ever decide to watch the series again... I'm not forcing you. And I'm enjoying this series. Except if this series is so popular, then why is there rarely any content? There is rarely any form of content for this fandom. And it's angering me. So that means now I have to write for another fandom that has no content. What the fuck.

But the violent scenes really pick up by episode three. Though.. I have always waited an episode or two before judging a series, because any first couple episodes are always introduction to plots and characters.

Like I said.. I have a type. Apparently I would be attracted to the guys who have no problem harming men but are against any abuse toward women and children. Akaza, Gun-woo, Woo-jin, Rocky, Vincenzo may even be only some more obvious examples of these types of men too.

~

Obviously romance is part of their stories. Since that is definitely part of the reason for the story.. The H&L fandom needs some romance as it is, so why not write it yourself. No one else seems to be doing that.

Romance and smut.

~

Now that Halloween is getting closer, I will definitely have to get back into watching more horror shows and movies.. Not that I don't always watch horror series. But lately I have been into a lot of other genres at the moment, like action and crime right now. So I am going to search through the horror genres soon (including anime too) to watch next.

~

Smoky has always been a big brother to everyone in Nameless City in ways that people seem to forget that they are blood related, well, not that family is always about blood relations either. They are a founding family type of family. So no biological relationships for most of them.

Even though Smoky isn't in the franchise that often for more obvious reasons, I would like to involve his character more in some ways that I might be able to. But I'll have to figure out how to do that though.

And I can imagine that for Takeshi.. Since Smoky was huge presence, a huge presence, in Nameless City since he was a baby. He might feel like he could never live up to the same expectations Smoky, he might constantly compare himself to Smoky. Kind of like how Cobra always compares himself to his older brothers of Mugen, wondering if he is a good enough leader for his younger friends of Sannoh. So I can see it.

~

Are Ryuko and Hinami in the same story? Do they ever meet? I do not for sure if this is helpful, but I might have some ideas? Not good ideas though. My ideas might be too vague for you though. So I don't know.

~

Exactly. Common sense is not common anymore. What "common" is, shouldn't be common. What common is for most people.. Betraying a lot of their loved ones (whoever that loved one is), almost killing other people and business by consuming drugs and alcohol - depending on their vices, prostitution, gambling. I try my best not to be judgmental, but situations like these make it difficult for me not to be judgmental.

I know, I know.. Everyone's human. We make mistakes. Whatever. I've heard those comments. But, when people do things like these things, it's hard for me not to judge them when they're careless or reckless in a situation where people and even places are always harmed by them to begin with. And then people wonder why I always hate humanity.

This is why I prefer the company of animals over humans. Because so many humans do things like this.. It's always so rare for me, at least in my experience, to find people who are actually decent to be around.

it’s so weird when popular shows don’t have a lot of fanart. like what? did this just not hit with the artists and writers? where’s the fics?!

ok that explains it then because i only watched two episodes adghklfdhjklhjkl. will have to go back and check it out then, love me a good fight scene! i have seen some scenes from vincenzo in like, youtube videos and tiktok compilations (idc about most of tiktok, but the edits are pretty good).

~

romance and all the explicit stuff, exactly what i’ve been writing this whole time. and my favourite stuff to write besides character exploration stuff. half my ao3 works are explicit asgjjkl

~

yesss i’m hoping to dig up some horror movies by the time halloween rolls around. i’m hoping to find a good copy of ‘talk to me’ by then (australian horror!). also worst of evil is coming out soon, wi ha joon crime boss?? yes please!!

~

watching smokey slowly deteriorate over the movies is so sad. i can’t imagine how hard it was for all his friends to watch and not be able to do anything because they didn’t have the money :(

they ended h&l too quickly, i wanted to see leader takeshi! i wanted to see him struggle under the weight of the legacy smokey left! and then finally come into his own as a leader!

~

i didn’t initially intend for ryuko and hinami to be in the same group overall universe, but then i imagined the two of them and kizzy in some badass girl trio fight scene, and now they are. they probably meet briefly while ryuko is being passed around the cities to avoid kuryu, and then during fights, but they’re not overly close but they are friends.

they’re edges just don’t really line up well, if that’s understandable? like ryuko is very booksmart and kinda princess-y, and hinami is very streetsmart and kinda tomboyish; ryuko is angry at her mother for abandoning her, but hinami has become (mostly) indifferent to being abandoned by her parents (until it rains); so they kind of clash a little?

i would love to hear your thoughts tho!!

~

idk how it is in other places, but all around australia, there’s been a lot of disrespect, especially from younger people. there’s horrible cases of severe bullying, fighting, and stealing (including car theft and then joyriding).

and then there’s all the cheating and drug use, drunk driving. everything’s kinda going to shit and it’s getting harder and harder to find decent people. so many people care more about themselves than caring at all - even minorly - about the people around them.

[simplytheevebest]

Why Rosalind's plan is awful, and how I think Season 2 should go, even though it's not going to, because it's already too late:

Disclaimer: spoilers for s1 of Fate: The Winx Saga and the original Winx Club cartoon.

This is going to be a long one, apologies in advance but a huge thank you if you take the time to read it!

So as we all know, season 1 ended with Farah taking a nap, Saul getting arrested, and the girls returning to school to find Luna, Rosalind, and Andreas in charge. We know (as Rosalind explained to Farah) that this is essentially phase 1 of a plan Rosalind has spent over 16 years devising even before she was sentenced to magic jail. Here's the thing though:

It's a bad plan.

Whatever the rest of the phases are, whatever the end goal is, this first step of eliminating Farah, Saul, and Ben as threats is very poorly thought out, for multiple reasons.

First: the variables. Rosalind is relying a LOT on the suspension of disbelief, trust, and loyalty here. If we think about this from the perspective of an outsider -a student who has been involved in the chaos but is not a member of Winx or aware of the same details- then, essentially, your headmistress has gone on "sabbatical," your headmaster has been arrested, a long-thought-dead war hero has returned in his place, a woman you've never met is in charge, and the queen of the realm is backing it all up. Disregarding that Luna's word might carry enough weight to make any of this credible, it doesn't make any sense. Those students we see only in the background are Alfeans who have either witnessed the madness of this year alone, or been taught, mentored, and supported by Farah, Saul, and Ben for years now. This is a high school. A fairy high school, but a high school. The currency is gossip. If even one student has their doubts and suspicions, the whole thing falls apart. We're meant to believe that Rosalind is such a master strategist and manipulator that she is always one step ahead, yet she's relying a lot on teenagers accepting a massive change in authority with no comment. That, or she plans to rely on fear and threats to keep everyone in line, because otherwise, any plans to try and gain their trust is a long con she has no guarantee will pay off.

Second: the key players. Luna, the queen of Solaria, has an established appearance as the kind, compassionate ruler, and thus might have a chance of spinning things in their favor. However, it's also common knowledge that when the school took its last stand against the burned ones, the Solarian forces were not there. Whether the students knew this directly or not, it was obvious from the moment Saul and Farah had to rely on them to fight too. They might have thought the burned ones wiped them all out, but then that's a real blow to morale asking a bunch of teenagers to do what trained soldiers could not. It's not a good look. Rosalind, meanwhile, is essentially a ghost. The history of her time as headmistress was erased so she's coming in a stranger, which works in her favor because the students aren't aware of Aster Dell and her barbaric methods, blood witches or not. However, to establish herself as someone worth listening to, she's going to have to go directly against anything Farah, Saul, and Ben have told them, which means lying, which is another huge gamble considering that the Winx girls and Sky all know the truth. And finally there's Andreas, arguably the most trustworthy and least problematic of the three -to an outsider. Like Sky, they would've been fed the same stories of heroism because until recently, only the adults knew about Andreas' moral dilemma and his fight with Saul. His fame would proceed him and he would have the best chance of gaining the students' trust, especially because Saul was arrested for his attempted murder, but again, he, like Rosalind, is going up against the reputation of his predecessor, whom the students have a relationship with. Any maybe this is just me, but if a man I'd only heard stories about showed up claiming my teacher had tried to murder him (especially if he hadn't succeeded, but still left the teacher to raise his son) I'd be real suspicious. Like, where've you been man? And "raising Beatrix to secretly release Rosalind and take down Alfea from the inside," in any context, isn't really going to win him any points.

Third: the Winx girls (+Sky). Roll call! First up we have Aisha, the rule follower, the moral compass, who looks up to Farah, and is definitely going to take issue with this crude seizing of power. Then we have Terra, the voice of reason, who isn't afraid to speak her mind, and knows Farah and Saul as well as her own father, having grown up in Alfea with Sky and Sam (I just want Terra to call her Auntie Farah, just once, please). Musa, the empath, who might not be able to technically tell if Rosalind is lying, but she would be able to tell if her intentions are malicious, and if Rosalind blocks her out, that's immediately a red flag. Stella, who hates her mother, and whose self esteem has grown enough she could be persuaded to commit actual acts of defiance against her. Sky, the adopted son of Saul who knows the truth of his father's "flaws" and has no reason to hold more loyalty or allegiance to a man who abandoned him for 16 years (and also would have revered Farah as a maternal figure this isn't debatable). And finally Bloom, who is suspicious of anyone who keeps secrets from her and is also ready to commit anarchy at any given time, for whom the phrase "Bloom no" translates immediately in her mind to "Bloom yes."

Essentially Rosalind's plan is to Umbridge everybody, which originally failed because the remaining students and staff at Hogwarts held enough loyalty to Dumbledore and contempt for her that they all revolted either quietly or openly. And while Rosalind doesn't have the setback of any outright hostility from a majority of the students, she's taking a HUGE risk in trying to establish power by getting rid of Farah and Saul, which immediately looks suspicious, and introducing Andreas and Luna's influence, which puts everyone on the defensive. And while the promo for season 2 shows us that her reign is holding, Terra is unbothered by the thought that she might be caught and face consequences, which means either that Rosalind's hold over the school is weak, or her methods are gentler than they are implied to have been with Farah and Saul to gain the students' trust (the long con). And while I'm sure the show will end up addressing some of these issues, I couldn't help but feel there was a more effective way to gain the control Rosalind wants.

I'm not saying that Farah, Ben, and Saul didn't need to be neutralized as threats for her to succeed, because they do, if not because of their strength, then their influence over Alfea. Let's start with:

Saul: To arrest him is too public, too complicated, and invites too much speculation. Instead, I propose that Saul be the one to take a "sabbatical." I've seen a good few fics that speculate he still owns his father's hunting cabin in the woods, wherever that may be (locations vary), but to insinuate that's where he's gone, even indirectly, is enough information it satisfies curious questions while remaining vague enough not to invite more. There's no concerns as to where he is because he's "at his father's hunting cabin." Assuming it's a good distance away ensures no students will make the trek to check up on him. This also could've been an opportunity to introduce Andreas properly and use the ol' soap opera amnesia trope, that Andreas sustained head injuries and only recently "remembered" who he was. Inviting a reunion with Saul, Sky, and Andreas would help establish a connection with Sky and Andreas, because it would have Saul's endorsement (because why wouldn't he be relieved not to have murdered his friend?). Then, if Saul "leaves," he's not leaving Sky alone, nor is he abandoning his post: he's leaving it to his "trusted" friend. In truth, I think Saul should be locked in the undercroft like Rosalind was, kept close and on-hand for useful information. Andreas, who clearly has no allegiance to Sky, would I'm sure promise to make good on threats against Sky if Saul doesn't cooperate. This also invites the possibility for a rescue of spectacularly angsty proportions. So on to:

Farah: She can take a nap, so she can return well-rested. But rather than truly make her disappear, I propose that Fate take a page out of the OG Winx Club's book. In season 2 the character Avalon is introduced, a paladin who grows close to Bloom in the interest of helping her discover the secrets of her past, but it's revealed to the audience that he is actually an imposter working for the big-bad of the season, Darkar, and is instead slowly poisoning Bloom's mind to turn her against her friends. Assuming Rosalind is as powerful as she is, and could, I imagine, block out Musa's empathic abilities (as I assume Farah also can), I doubt it's any issue for her to manipulate light magic to create an illusion and take Farah's place. This way, she has access to the school in the same way Farah does so she can slowly make changes in her favor, implementing some of the tactics she used and secretly training the students however she sees fit. At the same time, this allows her the opportunity to get close to the Winx girls, Bloom in particular, without suspicion. She could continue to teach Bloom magic, while also manipulating her perception of Farah, and even destroy their tentative trust if she wanted. It's clear Rosalind has a vendetta against Farah, so to slowly destroy the bonds she's built with her students while also manipulating them for information and personal gain -even if she doesn't think Farah is coming back- is exactly the sort of revenge she might take. What better way, than to destroy the image Farah has crafted for sixteen years outside Rosalind's influence? And, when Farah does return, she will be forced to confront those broken bonds and the betrayal her students feel by her actions (if Rosalind's ruse isn't immediately discovered, and even if it is, it'll still be difficult for the students, Bloom especially, to reforge that trust Rosalind broke while wearing Farah's face). And finally:

Ben: Of the three, Ben is the least problematic for Rosalind because she is right when she says he's easily subdued because of his children. However that also makes him more likely to act against her, secretly, because his friends are incapacitated and his children are in danger. So the easiest way to keep Ben complacent is ignorance. And with Saul on "sabbatical" but Farah still at the school and not immediately behaving in a way that would call for suspicion, why would he assume anything is wrong?

Obviously, none of this is going to happen, because they've already forced their hand, but I just think it'd have been an interesting direction for the show to go. Especially because it would mean more screen time for the lovely Eve Best (pretending to be Rosalind pretending to be Farah) and it could also incorporate the use of flashbacks with younger Farah to really highlight the differences between the two headmistresses, and the comparisons between Rosalind's regime then and now. It would also have added depth to the relationships between those students who know Farah really well (Terra, Sam, Sky) to see "her" behave so differently, and might've given the opportunity for Terra to expose Rosalind due to her suspicions, or for Andreas to prey on Sky's loneliness when he feels "abandoned" by Saul physically and Farah emotionally. Because we know Rosalind doesn't think Farah capable of forming true, lasting relationships when she commented that Bloom needed "love" to nurture her magic and "Farah couldn't give that to [her], Vanessa and Michael could." How satisfying would it have been to see Rosalind defeated by her own misconceptions that Farah had stayed the same all those years, that Rosalind had succeeded in making her just like her, when in fact Farah has knowingly or unknowingly formed real connections with the people around her because she refused to be like Rosalind?

I'd also love to see Farah transform, as a treat.

[uvobreakmylegs]

Right Place, Right Time

wanted to write something with a little more humor in it but there’s still dark shit because phantom troupe

Warnings: mentions of death

“There's trouble, boss.”

Phinks' voice cut through the chatter of the busy casino. Chrollo didn't look up at first, relaying a few more instructions to Shalnark via text. 'Trouble' wasn't unexpected; as much as Chrollo could plan ahead, human nature could be unpredictable and would usually cause a few bumps in the road when it came to their heists.

“What sort of trouble?” Chrollo asked as he pocketed the cellphone.

“A Zoldyck.”

Ah.... That was a bit more trouble than usual.

Chrollo's gaze followed that of Phinks and Shizuku. Looking down at them from a second balcony stood Illumi, his face devoid of emotion as the black void within his eyes took in the group.

The second Chrollo made eye contact with him, Illumi gestured to his left with a sharp jerk of his head before walking off in the same direction.

“Does he want to fight away from the guests?” Shizuku asked.

“Maybe,” said Chrollo. He began to walk in the direction Illumi had gone, signaling for Shizuku and Phinks to follow. The three of them walked up one of the staircases located to the side. Phinks pulled on the collar of his suit every so often, while Shizuku walked slightly slower due to the heels that she wasn't used to wearing. But Chrollo could sense that the two were anticipating a fight (Phinks likely ready to use it as an excuse to get out of the fancy suit he hated so much).

“But it may not come to a fight with him,” Chrollo told them.

“Don't the Zoldycks hate us?” Phinks asked.

“Silva hates me specifically,” Chrollo corrected, “but Illumi can be reasoned with.”

Phinks snorted a bit at that, but didn't say anything else. Shizuku then asked what Silva Zoldyck had done to the troupe, to which Phinks gave a brief summary of the incident that had happened years prior. A very brief summary, but he knew there was no point in getting into details since Shizuku would forget almost immediately; this wasn't even the first time she had asked.

Perhaps he should have expected that one of the Zoldycks would be present – it was the opening night for this particular high-end gambling hall. But with how stingy the owner had been rumored to be, he would have thought that the price of a Zoldyck assassin as a security guard would have been more than she was willing to spend.

If it was Zeno or Silva there would be no chance of ending things amicably: Zeno was dedicated to his work and wouldn't be moved by a bribe or any words that Chrollo could offer. And Chrollo and Silva shared a very mutual hatred of one another, so a fight would have been inevitable in that case.

But Illumi, while also just as dedicated to his family as his father and grandfather, could be convinced to stand down if Chrollo could name a good enough price and ensure that the Zoldyck name wouldn't be tarnished in any way. The Zoldycks successfully completed every job they took on, but they couldn't be held accountable if their client terminated the contract before they could complete it. It had happened once before, in an instance where a man had hired Illumi to assassinate Pakunoda. Illumi agreed to hold off on going through with the hit for a short while in exchange for twice the amount the man had paid him for and to allow the troupe the time needed to get to the client and release him from the contract.

Though it would be nicer to just get to Illumi's client and kill her off, there was no chance Illumi would allow them to do that while still under his contract. And Illumi would be happier if he was able to leave with twice the amount of jenny he had been promised.

Illumi was waiting at the end of a hall that had fewer people in it, pointedly looking at him before entering into what looked to be a darkened room. Chrollo pulled out his phone to text an order for the troupe to wait as he spoke to Phinks and Shizuku.

“You two wait out here,” he ordered.

Phinks looked as though he wanted to question him on that, but he held his tongue, crossing his arms as he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment. If Shizuku felt that his actions were questionable, she didn't betray that fact to him.

Leaving the two of them behind, Chrollo made his way to the door Illumi had entered and pulled it open.

This room was darker than the rest of the casino, and without the electric lights that brightened the building and the bodies of the customers that increased the temperature with their own body heat, it was much cooler in the room as well.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, he saw that Illumi was leaning against a smaller circular table, toying with one of his needles as he watched Chrollo enter.

“I thought you didn't like the body-guarding jobs,” Chrollo said as the door behind him slowly swung shut.

“I owed my brother for his assistance on my last assignment,” Illumi explained, “so I'm filling in for him.”

Chrollo nodded, though he didn't particularly care all that much. Whatever the reason, the presence of a Zoldyck would hinder things. Best to get straight to the point.

“How much are you being paid for this job?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.

“You think you can pay me off?”

“It worked once before.”

“So it did,” Illumi conceded, “but it would start to look suspicious if I accepted your offer too many times, no? It would be a problem if people thought the Zoldycks could be bought out. Our reputation is everything.”

“Well, you can't help it if your client decides that your services aren't needed and lets you go, now can you?”

“Another inexplicable 'termination' with a job that involved the Phantom Troupe?” Illumi asked, “father was annoyed that I did that last time, though he was more annoyed that I took the job in the first place.”

Illumi sighed.

“But again, doing that too often would look strange, and I will not do anything to harm our business reputation.”

“Very few people knew about the previous hit on Pakunoda,” said Chrollo, “there would be few who would notice a particular pattern, and I think the two of us are both inclined to avoid an unnecessary fight if possible.”

“True. Killing you and the rest of your group would take some time. And it wouldn't be worth the amount that woman is offering. Really, she's low-balling us. I don't know what Milluki was thinking when he took this job. Didn't even make her pay upfront.”

“Then we can come to an agreement?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi closed his eyes in thought, his fingers still twirling around that needle. He was considering it.

Chrollo waited in silence. Trying to push Illumi to do one thing was unproductive and could possibly make him decide to fight after all, though he was certain that Illumi was already willing to take him up on the offer since the assassin hadn't sent his needles flying the second Chrollo walked in. Pulling out his phone, Chrollo checked the time: 8:54 PM. He had planned for this particular operation to begin at 9:15. The owner was part of a group that had begun to throttle the livelihood of Meteor City, and tonight she was the host of a party for that group that was taking place in the upper floors while celebrating the successful opening night of her casino. The main purpose was to send a message: kill the group and anyone else in the building so the rest of the world knew not to interfere with the business of his Meteor City. Whatever valuables they collected would just be bonuses for the troupe to divide amongst themselves.

Though Chrollo rarely went back to the city these days, it was beneficial for him if the city still existed. And though he would never admit it out loud, there was of that sentimental feeling of wanting to protect his old home, as harsh and cruel as it had been for him growing up.

Illumi opened his eyes and looked to Chrollo.

“3 billion and I'll leave.”

“That's quite a lot,” said Chrollo, “much more than I paid last time. Why such a steep increase?”

“So it's worth my while.”

Chrollo mulled it for a bit, checking his phone again: 8:57. He certainly had the funds to pay Illumi's price, but it did feel like he was being somewhat taken advantage of in this case. Still keeping an eye on Illumi, Chrollo couldn't help but notice that the assassin seemed to have something else on his mind that he was considering. Then, like he had come to a decision, he sat up a bit straighter as he addressed Chrollo again.

“There's one more thing,” Illumi said.

“Something more than 3 billion jenny, Illumi?”

“Just some time; give me four minutes before you start.”

Chrollo hummed. Illumi didn't need that much time to vacate a building like this. Was it an attempt to set some kind of trap? No, that was unlikely. It would be far too obvious and Illumi wouldn't go to such lengths unless he was being paid to do so. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Illumi would need that time for.

“Why four minutes?”

“Personal reasons.”

Ah. He should have sensed something like that would be the answer.

“A lot can happen in even a single minute, Illumi. And you want four?”

“Four minutes is unreasonable?”

“Not enough to end this deal, but I may want you to lower your price a bit.”

“Are you trying to haggle with me?”

Illumi frowned a little when Chrollo smiled at him.

“Maybe just by 60 million or so,” Chrollo said.

“So you'd rather pay two billion, nine hundred and forty million?” Illumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's still more than you'll get if you keep your current contract, correct?”

Chrollo saw the corners of Illumi's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, a small smirk on his face as he closed his eyes again and considered the offer.

“That's true. Even taking that out I'd still be much better off.”

Chrollo checked the time and found it to be 9:01 PM. If Illumi came to a decision soon the troupe's operation could still go as planned.

“Very well,” Illumi said after a moment of thought, “transfer me the money first.”

With a nod, Chrollo accessed one of his bank accounts through his phone, bringing up the necessary amount and transferring it to the account number Illumi gave him. Within a few minutes, the transaction was completed. Illumi seemed rather pleased with himself, Chrollo noted.

“Perhaps you should stay in here for a moment,” Chrollo said, “Shalnark is upstairs. I can order him to take control of the owner and have her officially fire you. Then there won't be any issues with your family, correct?”

“That won't be necessary,” Illumi answered.

“Oh?”

“I got fired before you got here.”

“..... Excuse me?”

There was a flat tone to Chrollo's voice that made Illumi chuckle as the latter continued “that woman felt like she was wasting her money, but she was pressured to hire one of the Zoldycks at the behest of her guests. Seems to me like she was looking for an excuse to get out of paying the full fee. Apparently I was 'unprofessional'. But I'm glad I caught sight of you, otherwise this evening would have been more of a loss for me.”

Chrollo said nothing at first. Illumi had been careful with his wording, Chrollo realized, and it hadn't occurred to him to ask if Illumi was still under contract.

The funds weren't that important to Chrollo, but he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. Had he known that the assassin was currently out of a job, there wouldn't have been a reason to pay a higher price than normal; Illumi would have been left between going home empty-handed or with whatever Chrollo would have been willing to give him.

But then again, how could he have anticipated that a Zoldyck would have gotten fired?

Realizing that he had been played, Chrollo checked his phone again: 9:07. At least they'd still be able to start on time.

“Your four minutes start now,” he said.

Nodding, Illumi stood from where he'd been leaning against the table. He made his way through the room, past Chrollo and to the door that lead to the hall where Phinks and Shizuku waited.

“Perhaps you could humor me,” Chrollo said as he walked by, “it shouldn't take you four minutes to exit a place like this. What exactly are those personal reasons?”

Illumi chuckled a bit as he placed his hand on the knob.

“I suppose you can see for yourself if you decide to watch me leave.”

With that, Illumi left, the door swinging shut.

Standing alone in the dark room, Chrollo wasn't sure what to make of Illumi's behavior. He was used to the assassin being more straight-forward. He was secretive, yes, but there was something about the way he had acted just now that seemed a bit more.... Playful.

Illumi and Hisoka had known each other before Chrollo had met the long-haired man, and the two had seemed like they were in frequent contact. Perhaps, Chrollo mused, some of Hisoka's less-than-ideal qualities were rubbing off on Illumi.

Phinks and Shizuku approached him immediately after he also exited the room.

“It looked like he was leaving,” Shizuku said, “were you able to talk him down?”

“Yes. It was more expensive than it needed to be, but he'll be leaving shortly,” Chrollo answered as he nodded at her.

“He required four minutes before we began, so we'll be able to stay on schedule,” he continued as he looked at his phone again. 9:08.

The two spiders nodded (though Phinks seemed somewhat disappointed to not have a chance to fight Illumi) and Chrollo updated the rest of the troupe. The three of them slowly began to walk back to the main hall before coming to a stop at one of the balcony's. Below them the crowd had only managed to have grow larger as more people had entered to try their luck in the new gambling hall. For the majority of the crowd it seemed to be more of a pastime as they looked more well-to-do, but there were a few individuals who already appeared to be reaching a point of desperation, sweating nervously while they looked to the indifferent dealers.

A grand clock at the top of the hall showed the time to be nearing 9:10, and they had yet to see Illumi leave the building.

“Why did he want four minutes?” Shizuku asked.

“He wouldn't say,” Chrollo answered her.

“Hm. I wonder what it was,” Shizuku said.

“It seems he wanted to collect some woman before we got started,” Phinks suddenly said.

“Huh?”

Both Chrollo and Shizuku looked to where Phinks was looking. Within the crowd they saw Illumi walking through, accompanied by you. He held your hand as he lead you through the throng of guests, and you were giggling at something he had said while you intertwined your fingers with his. Illumi smiled back at you as he continued to pull you forward.

It was not a sight Chrollo had anticipated, nor was he expecting to see the darkened marks on your neck when he squinted. Marks that could've been made by Illumi's mouth.

Remembering that Illumi had said he'd been terminated for being unprofessional, and suddenly the reason for his firing became clear.

“That's just a civilian, right?” Phinks asked, “what does he want with her?”

“I guess he doesn't want to leave her here to die,” said Shizuku, “that's sweet.”

Chrollo continued to watch as the two of you made it to the other end of the hall. When you were finally out of the crowd, you went to wrap your arm around the one that had been leading you, smiling up at him as you two continued your way to the entrance. There weren't many who could touch one of the Zoldycks like that and live to tell the tale. Phinks was most likely right in his assessment; you weren't anything special. You probably had no idea who the person was that you were so happily walking off with or how dangerous he was.

Illumi said something and smiled at you before the two of you began walking again, but Chrollo didn't miss the little warning glance the assassin had sent in his direction.

As Shizuku and Phinks talked amongst themselves on what all that was about, Chrollo found himself unsure of what to think of this particular turn of events.

Evidently to Illumi, you were worth at least 60 million jenny.

You had come to this event on behalf of your friend Kiki, who had been invited by her cousin who had wanted to spend a milestone birthday at the casino. Places like this had never done much for you; the odds were always stacked in favor of the house and you didn't want to lose your hard-earned cash by gambling it away. You only came to do a favor for your friend, and yet about an hour into the evening, she had left you to chat up someone at the bar, leaving you with a group of people you only vaguely knew in an even bigger sea of strangers. Most ignored you, but there was the occasional middle-aged man who would eye you up and make you feel uncomfortable enough that you felt like you needed to leave the general area.

And then you ran into him.

The handsome man with long black hair and dark eyes who'd been walking about. He caught your attention like he'd caught the attention of most of the people around him, though they had seemed more content to watch him and gossip about him from afar. Maybe it was because no one else was going for it, maybe it was because you were slightly jealous that Kiki had managed to find an actual date for the night, or maybe you were just tired of the gross older men that kept ogling you and you wanted to be able to enjoy yourself with someone that you were actually in to. Regardless of whatever it was that made you do it, you approached the man and asked if he wanted to get a drink with you.

He hadn't wanted any drinks, but your boldness had impressed him enough that he wanted to talk with you. In private. Leading you away from the crowd and noise, he took you to a staff-only hallway where he introduced himself as Illumi. You introduced yourself to him, and the two of you managed to hit it off, having a lengthy conversation that ended when he kissed you suddenly. It seemed like something that had been spur-of-the-moment for him, and he pulled away from you to ask if you had liked it. Your answer was to pull him back onto your lips.

Your make-out session had culminated in him pushing you against the wall while he sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck.

And then you got caught.

You were expecting that you'd both get kicked out, but Illumi had been asked to accompany some of the casino staff while you were taken back to the main hall. Being that they were more concerned about Illumi, they left you there while you tried to hide the marks Illumi had left behind. You hadn't been sure if you would see him again; you didn't realize that he'd been working for the casino, and you were worried that you had cost him his job.

So it was unexpected when he appeared before you and asked you to leave with him.

But you said 'yes' without any hesitation.

You slid into the backseat of the car that had pulled up, Illumi coming in after you.

“The Palazzo,” Illumi instructed the driver.

Wait....

“Isn't that the really expensive hotel on the riverfront?” you asked Illumi.

“Yes. I've been staying there,” he answered.

You were amazed that he had the cash to be able to stay at a place like that. Then worry hit you.

“I got you fired, didn't I? Are you sure that isn't an issue?”

With that same small smile you had seen several times now since he'd opened up to you, Illumi smiled back at you.

“I got a better payout leaving like I did than if I had stayed. So don't worry, there's no issue.”

That eased your worries a bit, and you settled yourself into the seat as the car began to pull forward. You glanced back at the illuminated casino as you drove off, and another pang of guilt hit you.

“What's wrong?” Illumi asked.

“I left my friend without telling her anything,” you said as you pulled out your phone, “I should text her about where I'm going.”

“Mm. Yes, that would be a good idea.”

Illumi's tone was always rather flat, so you didn't notice that he seemed slightly displeased as you messaged Kiki to let her know you had left. It seemed like she'd found her own date, so hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at you. It wasn't like she'd been left alone.

The instant you hit 'send', you turned your attention back to Illumi.

“Think she'll get it in time? The reception was a little spotty in some places,” you said.

“It was fine, but don't worry about that.”

With that, Illumi pulled you into his lap while you yelped. You wanted to protest, seeing as you two were in a moving vehicle and the driver could tell what the two of you were doing. Illumi held you securely, however, and when you looked to the front of the car, you found that a sheet of tinted glass now separated the front from the back. The driver must have been able to read the mood.

“Don't worry about what's going on back there,” Illumi told you, “from this point on, all I want for you to focus on is me.”

His order made you blush, and you shyly answered with an “okay” before his lips were on you.

The casino and the people inside it were the last things on your mind that night.

[kingdomoftyto]

So there’s this Chinese light novel I’ve been reading for the past few weeks and my partner and I are obsessed and the fandom for it is criminally tiny so please read CARD ROOM and suffer with us... please

First off, ignore the synopsis on the translator’s website; it’s terrible and useless. What the story is ACTUALLY about is a quiet, intellectual young man, Xiao Lou, dying in an accident and waking up in the “Card World”, a game-like reality where he has to complete a series of challenges to win the chance to return to life.

The type of challenge varies by the card suit assigned to each “room”. Hearts rooms are murder mysteries, Diamonds are puzzles and labyrinths, Spades are survival challenges, and Clubs usually deal with gambling and direct competition. Xiao Lou happens to be a professor of forensic science, so his skillset and reasoning ability make the first few Hearts and Diamonds rooms a breeze, but he’s also a bit of a frail nerd who’s less good at fighting off monsters and assassins in the survival-based Spades rooms. 

Enter Yu Hanjiang, stoic policeman and acquaintance of Xiao Lou’s before both of them happened to die in separate accidents on the same day. Yu Hanjiang isn’t as quick-witted as Xiao Lou when it comes to puzzles, but his reasoning abilities are strong due to his experience with investigating criminals, and when it comes to combat and survival he’s a fearless one-man army. He’s tough and heroic and most importantly has both a powerful sense of duty and desire to defend the innocent.

They team up.

They fall in love.

It’s really, really cute.

Along the way, Xiao Lou and Yu Hanjiang recruit several other teammates who are all equally quirky and great. Even the ones you don’t think you’ll care that much about will end up feeling like irreplaceable parts of the family by the end--and they really DO all end up as one big tight-knit family. Gentle Xiao Lou and reliable Yu Hanjiang are the hyper-competent glue that binds this ragtag group of people together in their shared goal of leaving the Card World and living peaceful lives back in the real world.

If you aren’t yet convinced and/or don’t mind some spoilers, check behind the cut for me gushing about a few of the fun tropes that come into play and also a couple of brief content warnings

I had a ton of stuff spoiled for me before I decided to give it a read but seeing it all happen in its proper context is so fulfilling and great that frankly it didn’t ruin the experience at all. With that said, in no particular order, this light novel contains such classic tropes as:

slow-burn mutual pining

overcomplicated magic/skills system

overprotectiveness

historical AU (yes, AUs within a story. it’s fine. keep up.)

BEDSHARING

no really there’s copious bedsharing both before and after they get together and it’s my favorite thing. they’re so dumb.

FAKE MARRIED ARC

oblivious teammates (except one dude who is also queer and spends the entire novel just kind of smirking in the background)

space travel AU

merfolk AU

crossdressing (only sort of played for a joke. mostly it’s... heartwarming? eventually. it’s hard to explain lol)

everybody playing Werewolf. just straight-up the hidden-role party game Werewolf.

hurt/comfort

mouth-to-mouth CPR followed by lots of angsty internal debate over whether that was too close to a kiss and ghnjadsghas they’re so STUPID

TELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION

honestly just a bunch of really wonderful, kind, compassionate characters who love each other and make me feel good to read about :)

And finally, a few quick content warnings/disclaimers. This is not an exhaustive list:

LOTS of blood and violence!! The very first Hearts room involves murder and dismemberment and it pretty much keeps going downhill from there. Some of the deaths in this get pretty brutal and twisted. Gunshots, poison, immolation, and even graphic parasitic infections happen frequently. Also, main characters are not exempt from major injuries and illness.

Paranoia and distrust are really prominent elements, especially later in the novel, as some villainous characters regularly try to impersonate members of the team. (However, Xiao Lou and Yu Hanjiang have a very strong bond and never lose trust in each other.)

Yu Hanjiang is very much a classic hero cop archetype, solving some of his problems with violence and always being praised for his skills at intimidation and interrogation, etc. It’s not really any different from what you’d expect to see in a typical American police procedural, but I wanted to be up front about it.

There’s a secondary pairing that gets very, very slowly built up in the background that involves two men with an age gap of about ~10 years. It’s... definitely a little weird, and doubly so because there’s also a wealth gap involved, but they are both adults by the time there’s any real attempt of getting together, so it... could be worse?

This novel is from China and, while there’s not a lot of overt nationalism or anything particularly uncomfortable in that regard, there are a handful of cultural differences that did still take me off guard. For instance, I guess all people convicted of murder are automatically sentenced to death in China, so that’s... uh, interesting! None of the characters have any reason to think this is weird and in fact treat it as totally normal and ethical.

[robininthelabyrinth]

anything with jin zixuan marrying into the jiang sect, instead of jiang yanli marrying out?

ao3

It wasn’t that Jin Zixuan didn’t love his mother – he did, he truly did. He loved her, he supported her, he stood by her side in every argument. He would do anything within his power to help her get everything that she wanted.

It was only that he took a very reasonable look at the circumstances and realized he couldn’t. He couldn’t get her the one thing she’d always counted for.

He couldn’t win the right of succession to be Sect Leader Jin.

Maybe if his mother had managed to stop his father from bringing home all his bastards – there were nineteen of them, all together, and those were just the ones that were willing to admit it so who even knew – he might’ve had a better chance, given that he was after all the sole legitimate son. But legitimacy only took you so far: he was neither the oldest of the children, nor the most capable, nor the most cunning. He wasn’t even the best connected, despite his maternal family’s support; that honor went to another one of his siblings, born to an especially well-connected family through unspecified circumstances that might or might not involve rape but which sufficient money had plastered over.

The only thing Jin Zixuan had going for him was his legitimacy, but his father had long ago taught him - however inadvertently - that there wasn’t anything magical about a wedding ceremony that made him better suited to the role of sect leader.

What’s more, in his heart of hearts, Jin Zixuan didn’t even want it.

He wasn’t – he didn’t really like fighting. Or politics, or scheming, or any of it. It just wasn’t his personality. He didn’t like games of influence, he didn’t like backstabbing people that trusted him, he didn’t like gossiping and slandering and not being able to believe in people’s good faith and any of that, and no matter how much his mom pushed him, he didn’t think he’d ever like it. 

But that was what Lanling Jin did, what Jilin Tower was like, and if he wanted to take up the Sect Leader’s seat and reside in the Fragrant Palace, he had to get over himself and accept that that’s what the rest of his life would be like.

Forever.

Until someone murdered him and took his place, anyway. It almost felt inevitable, sometimes. 

Or, because he really truly didn’t want the job, because he really truly didn’t want to die, he could try to think of something else. Some way out.

For example, he could, and did, go to Jin Ziyao and ask him for help.

Jin Ziyao stared at him, eyes narrow and calculating as they so rarely were – he was very good at keeping a bland polite smile on his face, the best at it of all the people Jin Zixuan had ever met, and he’d met a lot. 

“That’s an interesting thing to say, brother,” he said, gently eliding as always the fact that they were the same age, born on the same day to different mothers. “Very interesting indeed. I must ask, though - why are you saying it to me?”

“Because you’d be the best at the job,” Jin Zixuan said honestly. He really thought so: Jin Ziyao was smart and clever, cunning enough to wear a kind face and tricky enough to actually pull off the impression of actually being kind, since people were more willing to forgive kind people, but also ambitious and ruthless enough to survive and maybe even thrive in the political world the way Jin Zixuan wasn’t. “And because you’re smart enough to come up with a way for me to get out of this without dying, if you wanted to.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Why would I want to?”

And that was the rub, wasn’t it? Jin Zixuan was the legitimate son, the rightful heir, and his father, their father, was just as likely to name Jin Zixuan as the next sect leader no matter how unfit for the role he was on nothing more than that basis as he was to name anyone else with a much stronger claim. 

It was in everyone else’s best interest to kill him, if they were ambitious.

Maybe not his sisters. They wouldn’t inherit no matter what happened to him.

(Sometimes Jin Zixuan wished he was lucky enough to be born a nobody, little Jin Ziyu, who just wanted to play with make-up and avoid all contact with his maternal Mo family. Nobody cared about Jin Ziyu, and everyone liked it that way.)

“You know my position,” Jin Zixuan explained. He didn’t need to say it out loud; he was bitterly aware that it was basically his only personality trait: legitimate heir of Jin Guangshan, the rich boy everyone thought would be the next sect leader unless someone else got in the way. “My support could be worth something to you.”

“Especially if it’s sincere,” Jin Ziyao murmured, looking thoughtful, contemplative. It wasn’t an outright no, anyway, or at least not yet. “And you would be sincere, wouldn’t you?”

“There’s a reason I said that I’m not fit for the role,” Jin Zixuan replied, his voice dry to hide the fact that his heart was in his throat. Jin Ziyao was the one most likely to succeed in finding a way to get him out of this mess, but he was also the most likely to figure out a way to kill him without being blamed for it, too.  There was a reason he’d come to him, but that reason was the danger - who was to say that Jin Ziyao wouldn’t decide it’d be safer to kill him, and to use this to accomplish it? He could be signing his own death warrant. “And even if you’re smart, competent, good at managing things, well-connected, and well-liked, you can still use my help.”

Jin Ziyao had only a single fault: his mother had been a prostitute. People still judged him for that, something which made no sense to Jin Zixuan whatsoever – it wasn’t Jin Ziyao’s fault what his mother did before he was born – but it meant he lacked legitimacy even more than the others. 

Having the legitimate son backing his claim would be a strong argument in favor of overlooking that.

“You know your mother won’t like it,” Jin Ziyao said. Testing, probing; he hadn’t agreed yet.

“I know,” Jin Zixuan said simply. “But I hope that she’d like me being dead less.”

He wasn’t actually sure about that. His mother loved him, yes, but he had never entirely determined if she loved him for himself or as an extension of herself – a symbol of what she would be fighting towards. A sign that her struggles with her husband had a purpose, that all her humiliation would one day be worth it.

That one day, when he was sect leader, she would become the true power in Lanling through him. 

(Jin Zixuan didn’t know what she imagined would happen to all his illegitimate brothers and sisters in that situation, and he didn’t want to; it put a sick feeling in his gut to think about it – which he supposed meant he did know, after all, what she would want, but was instead choosing to ignore it.)

Jin Ziyao studied him for a long moment, presumably trying to analyze his sincerity and how firm he was on the idea. 

Jin Zixuan didn’t rush him, knowing it was a gamble on his side as well: it would be worse for him to help Jin Zixuan out of the line of succession only for Jin Zixuan to change his mind down the road. It would make him look bad, make him a target for the others, and the backstabbing nature of Lanling politics meant that luring someone in with a request for aid was exactly the sort of trap someone might lay out.

Sometimes, Jin Zixuan was really, really tired of Lanling.

Maybe something of that showed on his face, because just when he was starting to lose hope, Jin Ziyao abruptly nodded – almost to himself – and said, “All right. How about your marriage?”

“What about my marriage?” Jin Zixuan asked, puzzled. 

He’d been engaged to his mother’s best friend’s daughter since before he was born, and amazingly enough the engagement had held despite everything – probably because they had barely met, to be perfectly honest. And also the fact that being surrounded by brothers that hid daggers in their smiles gave Jin Zixuan enough experience to realize that he was being deliberately incited when his so-called friends started telling him that he deserved better than a girl most often described simply as being nice.

After all, he’d already started doubting by that time that he even deserved the accident of his legitimate birth, so forget deserving any girl.

Also, being nice sounded…rather nice, actually. Certainly a relief, assuming she was actually nice rather than just pretending to be the way so many of his sisters were.

(None of them liked her, which suggested she might be.)

“You should get to know your intended better,” Jin Ziyao said. “Visit her more often.”

Jin Zixuan really wasn’t seeing the connection between that and his request for assistance, and Jin Ziyao’s gaze softened a little bit, though Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure if it was with sympathy or merely pity.

“It’ll make it easier for you,” he clarified. “For when you marry in.”

Marry in?

Marry in. The Jiang sect was a Great Sect, with enough power and influence to make unreasonable demands – and his father desperately wanted the alliance with them. If they could be convinced to demand that he marry in rather than having Jiang Yanli marry out, pointing to their smaller numbers or the tragedies that had befallen their sect…

Jiang Cheng would like having his sister around. He was also notoriously standoffish around women, and had viciously rejected any effort to be matched with one of the illegitimate Jin girls; it might even be possible to suggest to his father that allowing Jin Zixuan to marry in would mean that there was a chance that Jiang Cheng would be willing to leave his sect to a nephew surnamed Jiang, winning the Jin sect both an alliance and inheritance all at once.

Best of all, it had to be him. The Jiang sect had only agreed to the engagement because of Madame Yu’s friendship with his mother, not for any political reason; if his father tried to substitute him with someone else, they might break it entirely…

And someone who married out couldn’t be the heir.

“You’re a genius,” Jin Zixuan told his brother, who smiled crookedly in acknowledgement. “What should I do? Do I just – go over there? Send a letter? I can’t write letters…”

“Let me think about it,” Jin Ziyao said. “I’m sure I can come up with something more subtle than you.”

[starry-skies-116]

The Demon Slayer Corps Initiative- Prologue

They were a peculiar bunch, those five.

A golden child, a young prodigy, a timid schoolboy, a rowdy delinquent, and an indecisive enigma.

Yet they, along with a school, an organization, perhaps even the entire damn world- must fight a resurfacing threat that have hidden in the shadows for too long.

Sacrifices have been made in their previous lives so long ago- tragedies have taken place amidst the blood red ocean of slaughter which humanity has scented upon for so long.

It counts on this generation to end it, once and for all.

"One chance, one last hope, one world for humanity. If we fail to protect our home and our kind, let us avenge it. Whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes.”

______________________________________________________________________________

They were a peculiar bunch, those five.

Attending one of the most prestigious high schools in Osaka, Kimetsu Academy- where the stakes weren’t too high, but high nevertheless. It was the in-between, the cultural melting pot of Japan- a strange, non-metaphysical limbo that words could somewhat haphazardly describe- and cookie-cutter perfect wasn’t an adjective to accurately depict the environment either.

Yet to the most popular students there, the matter was undecided on whether it was a hellhole meant for others to escape, or a secret hideout for their occasional shenanigans that would commence between them, as well as any other poor fool that got involved.

Tanjiro Kamado, seventeen years old- 2nd year at Kimetsu Academy. He has been shown to have been both somewhat a natural prodigy in both self-defense and tactical intellect, as well as frequent acts of charity and community service. He carries himself with dignity and unrelenting determination, and displays kindness to all whenever possible- a refined, well-raised son of the Kamado family. His most peculiar features were his unusually rock-hard forehead and uniquely impressive sense of smell.

Who was everyone kidding- probably all girls at the school fawned over him, what with his naturally toned physique, curly burgundy hair combed back to expose the flame-like birthmark on his forehead, and sparkling scarlet eyes that shone as bright as the sun: when it came to him, everyone spoke of cold hands and warm heart, the contrast between rough sandpaper and liquid gold evident.

Then, there was his brazen and beautiful younger sister which he thought the world of and held very dearly to his heart- Nezuko Kamado, fifteen and-a-half years old, 1st year. With split bangs fading from black to a flame orange, framing her delicate face, and the rest of her thick hair being tied into three low buns held up with endless pins and small pink ribbon bows, most fell for her upon first glimpse. This fact, being further enhanced by her flushed cheeks, rosy eyes, small pink lips, and hourglass figure drew a few unlucky souls to try and woo her- it was quite a gamble when talking to her, none of which have won yet. Her sharp tongue, quick wit and prodigious mind always have tended to repel other boys to make further advances- not that she minded in the slightest, of course.

Teachers didn’t know if they considered her a problem child or the ultimate teacher’s pet- it certainly didn’t help that she was considered one of the smartest in the world with a recorded intelligence quotient of 183, coupled with her being one of the technological savvies of the highest order in her time. With the combination of her hobby for needlework and her insatiable curiosity and expansive intellect in the STEM field, the young child genius could no more help but be the eldest daughter more than her dear older brother could be the eldest son.

The only boy that had not given up yet on trying to snag a date with Nezuko was Zenitsu Agatsuma, seventeen years old and 2nd year student- the blonde boy who was once struck by lightning: quite the subject of gossip around the school for a week or two ever since people caught wind of it- word travels fast in Japan. Most sources often say that being struck by lightning was why his hair turned such a stark shade of blonde- almost an electric yellow. Nobody can seem to fathom how he’s both a pervert and a coward at the same time- almost like a twisted combination of the people’s favored laughing stock. Even according to his daily “dress code” checks, it seems like his taste in women was for them to be smart, unique and beautiful- three simple requirements for Nezuko-chan, really.

Inosuke Hashibira, seventeen years old and a 2nd year student: rowdy, loud and short-tempered with poor impulse control and a large sense of pride to boot. He was typically known for the white jacket he would wear to school, unbuttoned and exposing the set of worked-out and refined muscles he had. In stark contrast to his body, there was his face- matching Nezuko’s in terms of beauty. Short, feminine black bobs that faded into blue, with glittering pale green eyes and long lashes, not to mention his mouth. Many despised his arrogance, yet respected his talents and could see why the little delinquent was excelling in PE class and was on many of the sports teams- his grades were dropping pretty badly, though.

Kanao Kocho, sixteen years old and a 2nd year student- youngest of the Kocho sisters and one of the three beauties of Kimetsu Academy. Not as compassionate as the postgraduate biology teacher, Kanae, and not as decisive as Shinobu, fencing club captain and aspiring pharmacist. She was recognized by her soft, gradient lilac-purple eyes similar to Shinobu’s lacking in pupils, and her black hair that faded into a gradient of purple and then bright fuschia tips at the end, styled rather oddly- half of it worn up into a yakai-maki bun held in place by a pink and green butterfly ornament. She was also characterized by the white western lace-up boots she wore every day that went up to her knees, the tan soles, heels and toes barely stained somehow.

Indecisive, tight-lipped and unusually polite- she is the most enigmatic among the sisters and the group, only her aspirations being known to everyone else- her unparalleled talent in forensics, human psychology and linguistics. Neither expressive nor humorous are the words to describe her, and her colleagues could only figure out her strange liking she has taken to carbonation bubbles and butterfly gardens merely by observing her. As monotone and dry as she would like to make herself, she is right in the suspicion that she would forever remain a mystery to all.

These unusual students came together ever since their first day of middle school at Kimetsu Academy, and despite their differences, the camaraderie they shared with each other was unbreakable, and they grew to become fast, long time friends, their relationship still persisting.

And as testament to that claim, here they were, despite their differences, rendezvousing at school early in the morning even though nearly every muscle fibre in their body screamed at them to go the hell back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that it would be better for our whole family if I sold my little trinkets to the government and… well, to anyone who wants to pay up and buy them- you know that I wish to leech off of meager paychecks no longer, and we need to have enough saved up for the college funds of both us and our younger siblings,” Nezuko stated in her usually brazen tone, fiddling with her bangs and tucking one behind her ear.

Tanjiro gave another sigh. “You know what Father says- you should be using that brain of yours to help the world, not help ourselves. He knows he has our welfare covered,” he replied, only to receive sharp pink eyes being rolled at him followed by a disappointed scoff.

“It’s either that or he finally makes up his mind, schedules a damn court date and chews out his lazy boss for not promoting him to engineering division supervisor despite giving him the responsibilities of one: oh, and also for paying him the weekly salary of some janitor. He said it himself when we were younger- just because it’s the way, doesn’t mean it’s right: you do right, you are right. Grandfather running a bakery for twenty years before he shut it down after grandmother died of leukemia meant that our ancestors left both him and us poor,” she responded before placing her hands on her hips and concluding her bold speech.

“Our father is a skilled engineer with an IQ above 100, and our mother is a housewife who bakes our family bakery’s recipes more flawlessly than anyone else. They gave birth to a fighter and a genius, as well as four bundles of sunshine with the brightest of futures. The Kamado family is a force to be reckoned with, onii-chan. Anybody that even dares to THINK about worsening our financial situation better pipe down and reverse their thoughts before they get a piece of this young woman’s mind in front of EVERYBODY.”

Tanjiro couldn’t help but breathe out a small “amen” to Nezuko’s voiced opinion. He knew that she always managed to be right about almost everything and even she knew that somehow.

Their father was a very skilled engineer and mathematician, Nezuko following in the footsteps of her father, Tanjuro Kamado. Their minds were both the product of revolutionary thinking, and their attitudes bore uncanny resemblance to one another in terms of intelligence and eloquent manners of speaking: they were angry enough to know what they wanted, and smart enough to know how to get it. They were the embodiment of genius- of what the future could bring to all.

Tanjiro, in stark contrast bore more resemblance to his mother, Kie Kamado, from his unmistakable kindness down to even his incredible cooking and hard forehead. The eldest Kamado siblings weren’t polar opposites, to say the least, but they balanced each other perfectly. Nezuko had Tanjiro to thank for providing her with food while she, cooped up in the garage, toiled away in the pursuit of knowledge and discovery: and Tanjiro had Nezuko to thank for providing him with newly designed cooking supplies, even though she smuggled the materials from the chemistry lab without anyone’s permission- in the middle of the night, no less. If she hadn’t told the elaborate lie to Obanai-sama that she was finishing up an important project for his class after school, she most likely would still remember the punishment she would have had to endure for stealing.

Of course, her lips told no true lies, even in the spur of the moment- she did finish that project in time. All the better to not linger on the nonexistent sores on her body that lingered before vanishing into nothingness once more.

Just then, obnoxious yelling interrupted the peaceful silence of daybreak, and the two siblings snapped their heads around to the source of the noise before an exasperated groan left their mouths. 

They’re at it yet again, aren’t they?

Nezuko and Tanjiro flinched as they heard loud crashing from the school courtyard, and hustled themselves through the gates to see that the commotion was coming from none other than Zenitsu Agatsuma and Hashibira Inosuke- fighting in the most immature way possible.

“Stop it- ow- stop!” Zenitsu wailed. He was already making the most buffoonish expressions of fear. Inosuke gave another unruly yell and delivered another punch in response.

“Button it up, Monitsu! You owe me twenty bucks, pay up!” Inosuke yelled back through gritted teeth, grabbing Zenitsu by the back of his uniform’s collar, eliciting even more frantic screaming from the blonde.

“I already told you! I forgot the money at hooooome- wah! That’s my foot- owww! Stooopp!” 

Nezuko could merely facepalm at the pitiful sight, while the surrounding spectating students desperately tried to break their incessant squabbling up to no avail.

These two morons, honestly.

“Great, just as I expected. Dandelion kid and the demon boar are once again stirring up trouble to lure the whole school here like cats to tuna. You can probably hear their whining from twelve miles away- honestly, is me and Kanao the only ones amongst our friend group with a smidgen of dignity intact?” the girl asked, her head inclining itself towards the sky almost instinctually. She recoiled backwards upon hearing Inosuke yelp at a scratch Zenitsu desperately landed on him in an effort to escape his grip.

Tanjiro meekly rubbed the back of his neck. “They just… don’t agree on some things, is all.”

Yeah, and that leads to full blown fights in the school courtyard.

And sure enough, crumpling to the ground and crawling like an injured maggot towards Nezuko was Zenitsu, who found her spine going ramrod straight as he wrapped his arms around her legs in a tight, squeezing embrace- the only thing preventing itchy fabric from rubbing against the skin of her leg were opaque, thigh-high black stockings with three thin white stripes around the thighs.

“Nezuko-chaaaaaannn~!” Zenitsu caterwauled in his usual frightened tone. “Help meeeee! Hashibira-san won’t stop beating me uuuuppp! I already told him I forgot the money!”

Inosuke gave another rather barbaric yell in response. “And I already told you to shut it!”

Zenitsu shot a wide-eyed stare at his classmate. “Just wait till I tell Tomioka-sama about this, he’ll kick your ass real good! That’ll shut you up about the money!”

Inosuke’s pale green eyes widened in response to the threat, most likely empty. “Why, you sack of chicken shit- come here-!” he exclaimed, storming forward towards the boy on the grass before a deadly piercing stare from sharp pink eyes stopped him dead in his tracks.

“If the both of you don’t stop making such a universal ruckus, you know by now that only those with good grades are allowed to participate in sports clubs and other school spirit activities. I’m not opposed to the idea of breaching the school network and changing all your grades to F’s,” she stated in a monotone voice.

The two boys gritted their teeth together. “You wouldn’t dare, Dizeko!” Inosuke yelled brashly, pointing at Nezuko. Tanjiro scratched the back of his head, round red eyes widening a bit.

“Wouldn’t you get in major trouble with all the teachers for both blackmailing and hacking into the system without permission?” he asked, to which the corners of the girl’s roseate lips curved slightly upwards into a mischievous smile.

“If it was for stopping a fight, no. They’d eat up that explanation like how kids gobble up Halloween candy.”

“Okay, okay!” Zenitsu exclaimed. “We’ll stop now… we’re sorry, Nezuko-chan!” he exclaims. Inosuke's arms crossed as he seethed through his teeth. "Fine. But you better have the money by tomorrow, got it Sizutsu?"

"It's Zenitsu, and fine! Now stop pestering me alreadyyyy!” he whines, and the siblings sigh, sharing a knowing glance between each other.

Just another ordinary day at Kimetsu Academy, they suppose.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Most of the teachers at Kimetsu Academy were known for being strict. Assigning homework on holidays was just one of their more merciful punishments- while some like Kanae Kocho, the biology teacher were known for her gentle and enthusiastic demeanor, there were teachers like Giyuu Tomioka, Iguro Obanai and Sanemi Shinazugawa- to say that they were strict instructors would be a rather comically large understatement.

One of Obanai-sama's punishments for a student failing a Chemistry test was to crucify said student to a post and fire at them with bottle rockets, for example. As Nezuko walked to history class, she could've swore that she saw Inosuke charging down the halls with the mathematics teacher, Sanemi, hurtling after him.

One unlucky soul even had been overheard by Sanemi whispering about how people didn't need math in the future- naturally, a fate of shattered glass and broken ankles awaited him as the enraged professor, quite literally, picked him up like a potato sack and THREW him out the nearest window.

Not that she was complaining against his actions, as radical as it was- they deserved it.

All human beings almost certainly needed some sort of math in the future. Not to mention that numbers were some of the things that helped her focus.

Only the clacking of shoes against the tile floor of the classroom and the obnoxious scraping of chalk against the blackboard filled Nezuko's ears. Her bleary pink eyes glanced to the blurred equations Sanemi was writing on the board, her restless tan Mary Janes tapping against the sides of her desk. She didn't know for how long she was blinking in and out of reality...

Until she was snapped out of her daze by a pinch to her shoulder and a loud knocking on her desk.

"Kamado, have some respect!" a gruff voice hissed. "Get your damn feet off the desks I paid for, this isn't your living room!"

Ah. Sweet mother of mercy.

Unfazed magenta eyes glanced back into irritated dark purple ones. "Apologies, Professor Shinazugawa. But I believe that clemency should be exercised."

She just barely suppressed the urge to flinch away from the teeth gritted at her.

"The only way I will exercise some damn clemency is if you tell me the equation of a quadratic function," he hissed in an abrasive tone.

This guy is kidding me, right?

Meticulously self-manicured nails drummed themselves against the desk as Nezuko forced herself off her chair, letting a slight yawn escape her throat. "A more simplistic term to make your students understand this concept would be a parabola, sir. And everyone knows that it's a(x) squared plus b(x) plus c, the non-x variables representing the numerical coefficients of the quadratic formula and thus the main aspects of the quadratic equation in graphed form. Have I missed any instrumental aspects of my explanation?"

Sanemi's eyes narrowed, and the two maintained eye contact in the form of tense glares for some time. Oh, how Nezuko enjoyed messing with virtually all the teachers- they still couldn't decide on whether or not she was a teacher's pet or a problem child. Then again, compressing oneself into a singularity would be virtually impossible.

"Tell you what- since you're such a goddamn smart-ass, Kamado brat, how about I make the entirety of your grade depend on how you teach this class today, eh?"

Huh. Well that was a first.

The corners of Nezuko's mouth curled upwards into a slight smile. "I must say, I’m flattered that you trust me this much. Truly is one honored to be the golden child of this class, Shinazugawa-sama," she stated smugly. Every clack of her Mary Jane shoes against the floor carried the dignity, poise and grace of a rich, smart young woman as she twirled the small chalk in her hands, walking up to the blackboard and entering her personal domain.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

"Okay, so can anyone tell me what a sideways parabolic equation is similar to in terms of how it is shaped?" Nezuko asked, eyes scanning the room full of confused faces upon hearing the words uttered from her mouth.

"I dunno... a sideways oval?" one boy called from the back of the class.

"You are partially correct!" she replied, tapping her foot against the floor. "More specifically, the graph resembles that of a half-elliptical shape, the sides only continuing on into infinity. Really fun fact- the full elliptical shape resembles how the orbit of a modern spacecraft is around the Earth. All manmade airborne space and aircrafts follow an elliptical and fixed flight path as per the itinerary provided to the pilots," she explained.

Many "ooh's" and "aah's" came from the plethora of students sitting at their desks, and Sanemi just barely restrained himself from letting his jaw drop to the floor- the amount of wit and uncanny sarcasm this young lady possessed was insane.

"On February 20th, 1962, during the Cold War- United States Marine Corps Aviator, engineer, astronaut, businessman and politician John Herschel Glenn Jr. became the first person to orbit the earth, accomplishing three orbits in ten hours," she continued, pacing back and forth across the classroom before chuckling.

"Tall, fair, handsome and golden. IQ above 100 and an American, no less- definitely my type, if you ask me."

Most of the students instantly burst into giggles upon the joke she cracked.

The explanation continued itself as the words seamlessly constructed themselves into sentence after sentence in her mouth, as if it belonged on her tongue, being told to the world on a little podium for her to stand on.

"According to the complex equations calculated by hand by NASA's smartest mathematicians, the results depicted flight trajectories and the exact orbit path of the Friendship 7 space vessel. The apogee was the farthest distance it could go while still being within the field of Earth's gravity, and the perigee was the closest it could go to Earth without being pulled into the atmosphere before the orbit paths could be completed. Think of those flight paths as a sideways parabola, since everything in this world is three dimensional," she explained.

What in the hell? Was this math class or a bloody physics college course?

Despite Sanemi's internal protests, he listened to Nezuko continue to lecture on while she drew an example diagram of the intended flight path on the board.

"Now- when the capsule LANDS is when it shifts from an elliptical orbit... to a parabolic orbit. This is defined via Euler's Method. The 'go' point before the rocket launches into orbit can be anywhere on the globe, however- where it launches doesn't impact the 'no-go' point, rather, the amount of time it orbits impacts it. The spacecraft needed to be pulled down at exactly the right coordinates at exactly the right time, give or take only twenty square miles maximum of the exact location, otherwise John would've burnt up to a crisp in the Earth’s atmosphere, or he would've been lost to space forever after being launched from Earth's gravity."

Slight murmuring came from the students sitting at their desks, and Nezuko swore she saw 90% of the class crease their brows in fear.

"Luckily, the coordinates weren't approximated. The 'no-go' point's coordinates were calculated down to the last decimal, and the coordinates were verified: the location was confirmed as the Bahamas- thus, John Glenn's life was spared and he lived to once again go to the moon."

Sucking in a long breath after speaking, she turned to the students gawking in awe. Her pink eyes fixating on the one who's leg was wrapped in bandages and a brace, she smirked and winked.

Ah. The boy Sanemi threw out the window a few days ago.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you need math in the future. Thank you ever-so-much for attending my Ted-Talk, any questions?"

No questions, no clamor of unruly behavior or chatting without permission- nothing. Just stunned silence.

"Hehe, alright. Then I guess I get to keep my A+ for another day- until the next lecture, my distinguished peers"

As she walked back to her desk, she tapped Sanemi on the shoulder and flashed him a look. "Oh, and Mr. No-Eyebrows? That chalkboard of yours is incredibly squeaky- I think it's high time we replace it with something a bit more... practical. And advanced," she murmured.

Then she winked, and the finger that was tapping her teacher's shoulder then flicked it.

Needless to say, Nezuko was not spared from Sanemi mercilessly chasing her down the hallways before tackling her to the floor and pulling at her uniform collar to force her to apologize. Whereas most other students would burst into tears, she was in fits of hysterical, explosive laughter.

"Ahahaha! Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I'm sorry- just pleaseletmegoowwwahahahaha!"

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lunchtime eventually rolled around- the closest that the students would get to a break. It was amusing how hunger could effortlessly throw all human reasoning out the window and turn even the most cheerful and patient of personalities into starved monsters.

With a wistful look in his eyes, Tanjiro glanced to the potato and beef korrokes wrapped in fresh lettuce leaves, nestled neatly inside his bento- a classic that Tanjiro's mother, Kie Kamado, always packed for him towards the end of the school week. Winter was beginning to roll around the corner, and it wouldn't be long before he would begin to find tofu in somehow still-piping hot miso soup, intermixed with soft carrots and natto beans that would break upon merely poking them with his chopsticks.

Tanjiro then turned to Nezuko, who was beaming from ear to ear, her glittering pink eyes shining like precious, freshly polished gemstones. Her mouth was practically flooding at the appetizing sight of koraku bento, consisting of a multitude of ingredients- carrots, scrambled eggs, and cherry pink sekihan rice among roasted chicken chunks and peas. He could tell from the euphoria and hunger oozing from her every being, the smell evident in her movements, her emotions. 

The beasts deep within their stomachs were demanding a sacrifice, and they chose to feed it.

Zenitsu had brought a rather simple meal of salmon daikon, which he was quite disappointed in, while Inosuke was already gobbling down even the last crumbs of his yakisoba. Kanao was the only one with table manners at the moment, drinking her ramune normally at the circular black patio they were sitting at. A cool breeze was overhead, the clear sky bringing forth unobscured, warm rays of sun.

A peaceful afternoon to enjoy with those he loved- just how he liked it.

Merely just moments later, Nezuko had practically inhaled the meal that their mother packed for her and was soon seated crisscross on the ground, her unzipped pale pink duffel bag sprawled out on the ground in front of her. Scattered out on the ground and flooding from the practically bulging school bag were a plethora of folders, notebooks and loose, crumpled papers with illegible notes and writing on them, as well as a couple of pens and scattered sticky notes. Students began to gasp and stare in awe as she brought out the laptop Shinobu-san had gifted her a year ago, the silver case covered in miniature colorful stickers that Takeo, Shigeru and Hanako had designed for her.

A signature act of kindness from younger siblings- hackers always had stickers on their computer. It was part of the creed, after all.

Almost instantly after she installed multiple wires entwining around the legs of the tables to the multiple outlets surrounding her, small holographic interfaces began to formulate themselves into existence, their mystical green and blue glows depicting multiple images and lines of hexadecimal code next to scripted commands and countless lines of input code. Her fingers practically danced across the keyboard, each movement flawless, flaunting the grace and experience of a knowledgable schoolgirl stepping into her primary domain.

"At the rate you're typing, you might just get carpal tunnel," Zenitsu remarked under his breath.

Nezuko merely hummed in reply as students, awestruck, began to surround her as she lifted her hand to scroll across the many interfaces surrounding her. "Interface prototype," she explained, unfazed. "It's nothing to be proud of yet- it's a work in progress. Different from a Quantum computer- more practical, less expensive. Don't tell Professor Obanai I stole the leftovers from his lab."

Kanao tilted her head. "How do you plan on dissecting the program to pieces this time?"

"I'm planning on confirming and repairing the syncing issue between the two websites to properly input our grades," Nezuko replied. "This will save the teachers a metric crap ton of both time and energy in the long run- I’m fixing this myself so that they’ll thank me later."

"Couldn't you just hack straight into the thing or whatever?" Inosuke asked, to which Nezuko sighed in exasperation.

"Yeah, it's not that simple. Like I said, I can't let them discover any external presence while I'm rummaging around and about in their network, lest I want to trigger every alarm and send law enforcement wailing in my direction for a minor cybersecurity offense," she grumbled before biting her lip. "I could consider obfuscating a smokescreen first to buy me more time to fix the errors via the copy paste method… but I doubt that would work at all. It’s not like manually performing a check on the data would work without me breaking in to the teacher’s lounge."

As she continued to make strange swiping and scrolling motions across the interfaces while simultaneously typing on the keyboard with one hand, a robotic female voice piped up from seemingly around the entire school and the computer simultaneously: "Perhaps the best course of action is that you revert back to the main console and install a R.A.T. into their server to breach the more discreet firewalls- that way, you can implement a backdoor without their knowledge and issue a C2 command instead to restore the corrupted files."

Many of the students jumped out of their seats, and almost instantly, murmuring and whimpering could be heard.

"Ghost!" one student cried.

"Excuse me, how dare you. I am most certainly not an urban legend, nor am I a supernatural unidentified entity whose properties are unexplainable via known scientific accounts, and therefore I shall take personal offense to that insult until you apologize," the disembodied, robotic voice replied flatly. 

Nezuko shrugged and giggled sheepishly. "Atsuko is an AI system implemented into my personal device. Her basic functions include a hacking kit to exploit and gain access to basic functions in basic lines of code- at the basic level, she can gain access to electricity and water systems, turning on and off the lights, appliances and faucet at will- she can even play personal selections of music. I've given her root privileges of all the appliances in the Kamado household... and I may or may not have done the same with the school campus."

Tanjiro gave another groan internally.

They were going to be in so much trouble by the time the faculty finds out there's a talking "ghost" installed into the school... by his little sister, no less.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

The strike of the Biwa signified their arrival, the ominous note echoing throughout the halls of the complex castle.

The Infinity Fortress- a private pocket dimension. It wasn't a complex piece of magic, rather a small, twisted paradise that complied rather aggressively with Einstein's physics theorems. A space of solitude to inhabit whenever the troubles of the world grew too much for the outcasts to bear.

It gave off a small, peculiar energy signature, the likes of which puzzled most intelligence agencies responsible for satellite surveillance- yet the structure wasn't visible on even the highest tech satellites.

The interior consisted of winding staircases and pristine wooden pathways seemingly leading to everywhere and nowhere at the same time, as well as intricately adorned halls and lamps, the place adequately decorated and lit. If one's navigation skills were still polished, the best they could do was to lead themselves to countless dead ends of the various rooms that were inside this peculiar place.

It would have been a rather comfortable place of solitude had it not been the infamous headquarters of humanity's most dangerous enemy so far.

Demons- members of a species that were once human, yet so brainwashed and devoted to their lord, black in both mind and soul, so corrupted and pitifully so far detached from society out of the animosity they harbor in their hearts to the ones they used to walk among.

An ironic tragedy in and of themselves- all they sought was to bring about the destruction of humankind with their abnormal abilities and unquenchable thirst for the flesh and blood of their former kin. All they were... simply a nation of man-eating creatures. Hungry and afraid.

Afraid of their master's wrath- afraid of failure- afraid of the heroes meant to slay them.

Too long has their quarrel remained in the dark, unknown to the rest of the world- and ever since the burning sting of their near defeat and the demon lord's escape thousands of years ago, the Demon Slayer Corps was forced to disband... at least, publicly. All of demon-kind knew that the old masters "retired" and remained in the shadows, secretly keeping the art alive.

Oh, how his blood thrummed with rage at the mere thought. 

The thought... of the pesky persistence of humans. The pathetic worms who always somehow managed to leave a bad taste lingering in his mouth.

They smelled of the earth, the stars and their bounties, so different from the demon scent of blood. All comparisons never highlighted just how alien he felt compared to humans, the darkness encapsulating him even in the womb.

It was of no secret to the Demon King himself that the breathing techniques and forms were passed down through a select number of families that have cultivated these expert swordsmanship styles, elaborately masked as ceremonial, almost shamanic dances.

Japan was a devoutly religious country no matter how much it was modernized, after all.

However, Muzan Kibutsuji wasn't expecting the descendants of the dreaded Kamado bloodline to show the most promise and pose the most dangerous of threats among all of their offspring- in this era, no less. Nor was he expecting an influx of new information regarding the search for the Blue Spider Lily- ambiguous and explained in confusing wording, sure... historical information regarding past events, sure- but it still proved an instrumentally useful lead.

Tanjiro Kamado... a descendant of the bloodline bearing the familiar name- and the flame-shaped crest emblazoned so clearly on his forehead... a mark of skill, of inheritance, of destiny- the very birthmark that reminded him so vividly, so clearly... of that man.

He swallowed back the bile forming thick in his throat, clamping down violently on the fear rising and bubbling within his gut, threatening to explode. His face went straight as quick as the emotion slipped through momentarily.

And his younger sister... Nezuko Kamado, wasn't it?

His exhales grew shakier, dripping dangerously with ecstasy. The smile of a psychopath crossed his face, curling the corners of his mouth upwards ever-so-slightly.

A child prodigy, her intelligence ever-growing and mind as expansive as the likes of her predecessors- bearing the same blood as the chosen demon who conquered the sun as his more hopeful thinking had prophecised, yet was sadly turned back into a human. She carried herself with the grace, dignity and pride of some sort of aristocrat- a refined noblewoman, despite her family's precarious financial situation.

A dark, sinister chuckle pried its way out his throat.

Perhaps Muzan could twist her sharp wit and wistful eloquence to his own desires, make her mind one with his own. Perhaps he could mold her into the perfect super soldier, turn her into the ultimate pinnacle of perfection and urge her to accomplish what his other failed experiments could not- conquer even what he could not... so only demons can bask in the warmth of the sun's glow once more when the twilight they gazed upon was no more.

Perhaps, only then, shall the inevitable stop delaying itself after so long.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

When, all at once, darkness and despair fell over the world- it was usually the grand plot of some sort of diabolical group of villains, usually seeking the destruction of humanity.

In this world, it was because of demons- manufactured, flesh-devouring super soldiers rumored by the folklore of myth to exist since time immemorial. Some rumored the somewhat mystical oni to be guardians of hell, existing to punish the most tainted of human souls for the grave sins they have committed in the worldly realm.

How Ubuyashiki Kagaya responded to that topic was a mere scoff and a merciless turn of his head- nobody punishes innocents for crimes they didn't commit. The nature of demons was that of extinction- of slaughter, of endless hunger and the lingering aftertaste of blood. It was of distant screams piercing the cold night air underneath a full moon- it was of humans, innocent humans, wronged in life only to be mercilessly and cruelly twisted into being an organic super weapon meant to bring about the downfall of their own brothers and sisters.

The first human a demon always killed was themselves. His ancestors learned that the hard way.

Ever since the Sengoku era, a time of political unrest- when Japan was teetering on the edge of civil chaos- the Ubuyashiki family has made it their mission to take down the demon lord. Kagaya prayed to his ancestors every day alongside his five beloved children and his wife. Since he was but a child he commended and praised the actions and accomplishments of his predecessors every day, trained and toiled night after sleepless night, gritting and pushing forward despite his illness to prove himself a worthy heir... to become the next Director of the Demon Slayer Corps.

When a secret society turned into a non-government acknowledged, yet wealthy and powerful intelligence agency was far beyond him- he only knew it happened ‘officially’ sometime around when the Cold War ended and has only continued to grow and expand ever since.

For so long, demons and humans have kept the bloody and tainted history of their brutal and bloody quarrels as a secret from the rest of the world. It had been blades crossing with fangs and claws underneath the hazy, moonlit night, throats being slit from within the cloak of darkness that encapsulated both warring sides.

Yet the time of hiding in the shadows was over. At least, it was to him.

"Sir, two hours into activity monitoring and we still aren't able to get a proper numerical reading on the mysterious energy signature," one female agent with straight black hair and dark eyes piped up. She wheeled around in her chair, motioning to her computer. The interface on it was spitting out a plethora of randomized, garbled characters.

Kagaya's clouded white eyes flicked in her general direction to make eye contact with her as best as he could.

"You mean the energy signature coming from Mount Fuji?" he asked in reply.

"Affirmative, Director Ubuyashiki, sir."

Oh. Well, this could certainly be a cause for alarm. Or at least a worthy candidate.

"Well, keep an eye on the ones coming from Osaka, Tokyo and Hiroshima," he ordered. He barely suppressed the urge to bark out a laugh masked as a cough, lest his subordinates freak out over the fact that he wasn't too perfectly healthy, despite being able to walk and speak just fine. "The very second you get comprehensible values processable by both machine and man is also the very second you get up off that chair to come and report the news to me, are we clear on that?"

The agent instantly flew out of her seat into a ramrod-straight standing position, delivering a patriotic and dedicated salute to her superior. "Sir, yes, sir!" she declared passionately- a gesture of acknowledgement and complete dedication and submission.

They thought him to be a flawless leader- wise and regal, clever and quick-witted; tactical prowess, intelligence and proactivity flaunted seamlessly and flawlessly every day. If only they knew how inferior he felt feel every day compared to the ones that came before him.

He was willing to bet some hefty yen that they're facepalming in the heavens right now.

Acknowledging her overtly enthusiastic demeanor with a mere nod, he awkwardly walked away, hands pensively placed behind his back. He walked to the center of the agency office, unseeing eyes longing to gaze upon the expansive city of Osaka, a bustling coastal harbor that could rival even Tokyo itself- the diamond of Japan. The afternoon glow warming up his cheeks confirmed his suspicions that it indeed was daytime. The glass dome, nearly adorned with potted indoor shrubbery and floral decorations was a rather pleasing sight to behold- “easy on the eyes” was what he would describe if the world around him wasn’t consistently encapsulated in a never-ending abyss all the time.

“It’s okay!” Kagaya repeatedly told his wife and children on the night that the rotting purple curse mark spread to his eyes, permanently blinding him. The moment bright lavender eyes turned unfocused and sunless, they grieved and wept and wailed as though the end of the world had come. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine!”

Needless to say, it took quite some effort to calm them down, even despite his tactful manner of speech and his soothing voice.

He knew that the illness would soon spread to the rest of his body, and he did shudder at the thought of him bedridden and mute, his skin rotting purple and aflame with torturous pain and a maddening itch from the flesh and bones within. He did shudder at the thought of his wife, normally so charismatic and compassionate- as reduced to nothing but a sobbing wreck on the ground.

Every afternoon, clear or stormy, was an afternoon where he steeled himself to be strong for everyone soon to be watching him. Numbing himself to the blindness was merely a cake-walk compared to what he would have to endure tomorrow.

Kagaya turned around, recognizing the presence of his wife, Amane Ubuyashiki- not by her snow-white hair or her distinct dark eyes, but by her gentle touch of silken, slender fingers curling around his shoulders followed by the voice that always made his heart bloom with the inner peace his subordinates so often rumored him to symbolize wholly.

“The view is beautiful, isn’t it?” Amane whispered, that serene, teasing smile adorning her rose-red lips. She then trailed her fingers through her husband’s ebony black hair, to which he didn’t mind at all- they shared obscure gestures of affection all the time between each other, even in the workplace.

Kagaya, contrary to his normal demeanor, scoffed silently. “I’d know if I could see it,” he replied, crossing his arms. “It does get pretty hard when all people ever see you as is a blind, helpless old man- at least, everyone outside of the agents working here,” he corrected before the reckoning could crash down upon him for uttering such blasphemy.

A light pinch on his neck followed by laughter akin to the twinkling of bells received him. “‘Old man’? Darling, you’re not even past your thirties. Of course, it is the hard truth of the curse of our family, but that’s what all of this is for, right? Defeating the man that originally caused this whole conundrum…?”

Kibutsuji Muzan. That damned nobleman during the Heian era, his own family being the original victim of his grisly appetite. An absolute monster.

“While it is true that this mission has been entrusted to our family, all of my ancestors have only ever committed one fallacy in their logic,” he simply replied.

Despite his blindness, he could feel Amane’s muscles tensing up, practically smell the incoming doubt and uncertainty wafting from her demeanor.

“Are you sure that it is of paramount importance… to let the rest of the world know about the battle we’ve fought for centuries, let alone rally them to participate as well?” Amane asked. Her voice slightly shaked. “It was tradition for our family, our Demon Slayers, to be the hope of all of humanity. Would it truly do good to burden the world with this immense responsibility?”

Kagaya turned around to face his wife and secretary the best he could- he already knew that he was staring somewhere off into space judging by the way her fingers tightened their grip tensely. “Ms. Ubuyashiki… you’re acting like the government knows what is best for the people. You let your burdening sense of individual responsibility get in the way of your integrity,” he whispered hoarsely. “I mean, come on- they’re scared of the public flying into a frenzy when they have every right to, given the current circumstances we’re undergoing?” 

Before Amane could open her mouth to reply, he continued to speak- a rather rude gesture of him, but something he would have done nevertheless.

“You’ve seen the current scope on the situation around the globe- the anomalous energy signatures are coming from every single significant location in the world, the most prominent ones being around natural landmarks and global capitals,” he said, not caring if he was rambling like a madman at this point. 

“The lesser ones are coming from other significant cities, but that’s not the point- it’s happening around the entire globe. Moscow, Madrid, Beijing, New York, Jerusalem, Washington DC, Seoul, Tokyo, Jakarta- you put your finger on it, I’ve got a name for it. And that’s not all… demon appearances and populations are rising in these places- very slowly, but human populations are significantly dropping and military security has greatly increased. Political tension skyrockets by the day. Innocents in these countries are dying, Amane- I couldn’t care less if they’re foreigners. They are our brothers and sisters, and this is the time we put aside our differences in culture, religion, politics, beliefs- to fight against our one common enemy- the enemy of man.”

Once again, he felt that all-too-familiar spark of determination within his soul- a bone deep burn to wipe the scourge of the world out of existence itself.

“They deserve to know. Everyone deserves to know,” he solemnly stated. “Because this war isn’t solely our responsibility anymore… it’s the responsibility of all of humanity- the whole world- to be our own last hope. Because at the end of the day, we’ve made the promise to protect the world and avenge all we’ve lost to them- yet it’s up to all of us to uphold it- on our honor, on our blood… and on our lives.”

These were the words Kagaya uttered before his face softened, the corners of his mouth curling upwards and sagging at the same time- a time where he looked a thousand years older than his age. With calloused hands hidden behind the thin black fabric of gloves, he entwined his fingers around hers.

“Whatever it takes.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Click, clack, click, clack.

Only the sounds of her shoes tapping against the floor echoed throughout the night as she trudged home, exhausted yet a warmth tingling within her chest.

Now she felt the crippling shame and the weight of what she had done coursing through her body, coming back to dish out retribution in the form of horrible waves of guilt.

They hate me now, though they know it not. I know it.

The dissapointment crushed her even more when the image of their disappointed faces and furrowed brows surface to mind, and she suppresses the whimper bubbling in her throat.

What would Professor Rengoku and Kocho say? What would Father say? What would Tanjiro say if they knew about what a selfishly selfless thing I’ve done?

She usually let her pride get the better of her, making excuses to justify her actions- but this time, she couldn’t deny it. Her sensitivity had let her pent up emotions spiral out of control- and once again, her empathy for her classmates and the less fortunate had gotten the better of her as it always did and always will. She’d always be the poor kid, and the occasional bullying would never stop.

“I’m an idiot, I’m such an idiot!”

She felt her stomach churn with a feeling bearing some resemblance to a mixture of dread and relief once she arrived at her house’s front porch, lit merely by a flickering light, the bulb of which they didn’t have enough money to replace.

She should probably turn that off before the electrical bill skyrockets itself.

Another plethora of silent sounds echoed throughout the frigid night air- the sound of her fingers gently flicking the light switch off, enveloping the surrounding area in nigh complete darkness. The deafening silence that followed the two knocks carefully administered to the door caused Nezuko to bite her lip a tad bit too aggressively- yet she immediately straightened herself when the door opened with an agonizingly loud creak.

Her father, Tanjuro Kamado, stared back at her with the same kind, tired eyes that Tanjiro bore- not with the disappointment that she expected to crush her upon her late arrival, but with sympathy. He tucked a lock of curly burgundy hair behind his ear, all of which was tied up into a high ponytail, his gesture being followed by an awkward cough.

“Heard what happened at school today- and I heard about the punishment they decided upon without talking to you about it,” he murmured.

“I was just trying to help, Baba-” Nezuko spoke before she was interrupted by glancing back to the gentle smile forming on his cheeks.

“You work too hard. I should be the one coming home absurdly late, not you. You are doing everything you already can- the last thing I want you to do is to push yourself too hard in your pursuit to help others, Nezuko,” he whispered. Oh, how she wanted to cry when he gently cupped her cheek and escorted her inside, away from the drafty night’s breeze of the dark.

“I can see the resemblance between you and Tanjiro- besides the forehead birthmark,” she mumbled jokingly, rubbing the bags underneath her eyes that felt so similar to weights. “You let your individual sense of responsibility get in the way of- well, everything.”

Maroon eyes seemed to glisten with an almost youthful mischief in response. “I would be in denial, but now I see what you mean,” Tanjuro joked before the two erupted into a fit of silent giggles. The two spoke the same language and shared the same exhaustion seamlessly amongst each other, both of them collapsing onto the creaky chair back settee that substituted for a regular couch. By now, their back had grown used to the dull ache that it had caused.

“How was school? Besides the whole hacking part,” he asked.

Nezuko gave a light yawn. “Great, to be honest- I got to spend time with my friends today. A lot of people were clueless in history class today,” she murmured before her face shifted into a slightly incredulous expression. “Well, of course I know who Dorothy Vaughan is. American mathematician, impeccable Fortran programmer and one of the best human computers of her time, thank you very much,” she haughtily stated, crossing her arms and nonchalantly leaning back into her seat.

“Right,” Tanjuro replied, chuckling heartily. “Every scientist and engineer hails her as one of the messiahs of programming - I would’ve had posters of her hung all over my room had I not grown up in the lower middle class.”

Nezuko sighed. “She paved the way for older and modern programming languages as well… what wouldn’t I give to walk through the doors of the mighty Kasugai University to be as great as her? But alas, you need at least one Ph.D from Cambridge or Princeton or some other big-shot Ivy League school to even be considered somewhat worthy of walking through the door,” she grumbled before feeling a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Warm, just like the afternoon sun.

“We’ll get there, okay?” Tanjuro whispered. “We’re almost there.”

“No, father…” Nezuko replied, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace as though he were a lifeline. “In my mind… we’re already there.”

Their brief moment of peaceful silence was suddenly interrupted by loud crashing and the loud yelling of children’s voices upstairs- the phrases mingling together to form brief snippets of sentences such as “Ow!” and “Quit it- stop-” and “It’s not fair!”

Pink eyes sparkled with curiosity and doubt. “What were my younger siblings doing this entire time?”

Tanjuro shared an equally dubious look with his eldest daughter. “They were pretending to be asleep.”

An exasperated sigh left partially dried lips, and a soft, breathy moan left Nezuko’s mouth as she stood up and began to trudge up the stairs, flashing her father a knowing smile. “Well- looks like they weren’t pretending well enough.”

Guess it’s up to her to convince them to calm down.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Takeo grunted as a pillow barreled towards him and smacked into his ribs with such force that it knocked him backwards back onto the bed. Coughing and willing himself to stand up, he shot a glare at his younger sister Hanako, who’s dark red eyes glistened with tears illuminated by the lamplight- not that he cared, she was prone to childish temper tantrums like this.

“Hanako, I already told you! You can’t have the futon!” he exclaimed before another pillow from Shigeru smacked him square in the face. “You too, Shigeru, Rokuta! Mother’s going to kill you if she finds out about any of this!”

“No!” Hanako exclaimed in a particularly whiny pitch of her voice, which made Takeo recoil backwards a bit at the repulsive wail and grimace. “It’s not fair that you get to sleep on the only comfortable futon that we have!”

“Uh- yes it is!”

“Is not!”

“Is too! I’ll fight you on this one!”

“Oh, yeah? Bring it on!”

Their bickering was interrupted by the familiar sound of shoes clacking against wood, followed by a door creaking open. Instantly, they were met with the sight of stern fuschia eyes staring back at them. “Alright, now would someone care to explain to me what in Kami-sama’s name is going on up here? Why are you four clowning around at this hour when you should be asleep?” 

Almost instantly, their seething expressions instantly turned into puppy eyes gazing up at their beloved older sister. 

“He started it!” Hanako exclaimed, to which Takeo shot a glare at her from out of the corner of his eye. “No, she started it and then they all ganged up against me!”

Nezuko narrowed her eyes. “Explain the whole story, guys,” she signed, exasperated.

Hanako brushed the fringe out of her face, only for it to fall back over her eyes. “It’s not fair that Takeo gets to sleep on the only comfortable futon that we have just because he’s the middle child!” she exclaimed. The moment her older brother sneered out a “yes it is” and snuck his tongue out at her, her eyes widened before she nearly dove at him to tackle him to the floor. “No, it is not! I’m tired of waking up with an achey-breaky back every morning while you sleep like a baby and wake up feeling good every day!”

Oh, the repercussions of being slightly poor.

“Alright, then- short bedtime story, since you lot just simply can’t sleep,” Nezuko stated, clasping her hands together adamantly. That made the children seem to scurry like ducklings back to their respective beds and stare up at her, doe-eyed and ears ready to listen.

She took a deep breath in. “Alright, where do I begin… ah, right- I had the same fight with niisan when we were younger… I think it was when Takeo was still in mama’s stomach- we were… still children, back then. We had a bunk bed, and Tanjiro and I were fighting over the top bunk. Our father stated that only the oldest would get the top bunk, and whoever slept on that bed would have to do all the chores of the oldest. Needless to say, when my turn came, I did not enjoy it, and I seceded- gave up- the top bunk to Tanjiro.”

Hanako tilted her head. “Nee-san, what does that mean?” she inquired, curiosity evident in her expression.

Nezuko chuckled, already imagining their reactions to what she was about to say next. “Well, that means only the middle child gets the futon. And whoever sleeps on the futon has to do all the chores and take care of all the responsibilities of the middle child, including Takeo’s homework, washing the dishes, folding the clothes, wiping the tables and countertops when they get dirty, writing grocery lists for me and Tanjiro every Friday-”

Hanako’s, Shigeru’s and Rokuta’s eyes widened in fear, their jaws dropping open. “Okay, okay!” Shigeru exclaimed, fervently shaking his head and recoiling back. “Takeo, forget everything we said to you- we’re super duper sorry! You can have the futon, okay? We’ll never ask for it again!”

Takeo’s eyebrow raised, and he barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re forgiven… for now.”

Nezuko smiled. “Yeah… I did have quite the interesting day today. Anything particularly stand out to you today?” she asked, her back immediately slouching upon sitting down on the ground. 

Shigeru’s eyes immediately began to glisten with worry, and a primal instinct growled deep within her upon seeing the burden of worry being carried in such youthful eyes. “Are the big scary demons going to come kill us, nee-san?”

“Now, now, Shigeru- where did you get that happy thought?” she asked, struggling to hold back the bile forming in her throat. 

No child should ever have to live in fear, especially not her younger siblings.

Takeo straightened himself up in his futon, propping himself up on two arms. “At school, the alarm rang out of nowhere before we were about to go to lunch,” he explained, worry evident in his voice. “The teachers turned off all the lights and locked all the doors- they even told us to duck under the desks for some reason. Most of the girls were crying, we didn’t really know what was going on…”

“Well Takeo, sweetie, that’s called a drill. It’s for practicing what to do just in case something unexpected happens, okay? Nothing to actually worry about,” Nezuko explained, hoping this would calm their tension down. 

She remembered how her face twisted into a barely restrained grimace as she glanced at the old TV. She knew that the screen was just a multitude of red green and blue miniature LED lights, yet the live recordings of death and destruction happening due to some unknown supernatural force seemed almost too realistic- too much to bear. Tears and bile stung the back of her eyes and throat as her stomach churned and twisted with disgust and fear. 

Man-eating demons… this can’t be real, can it? 

Noticing Nezuko’s tense expression, Hanako wrapped her small arms around her in a wholeheartedly affectionate hug. “It’s okay, nee-san! Whenever the bad guys come, heroes will always defeat them and save the day!” she passionately exclaimed, eyes glittering with some newfound hope that Nezuko dared not extinguish by stating that it was a fairytale.

Shigeru nodded and grinned from ear to ear. “That’s how it is in the story books and movies, and now it’s happening in real life too! So exciting! Or, hey- maybe you’ll be the heroes!”

What.

“Yeah!” Rokuta interjected. Takeo opened his mouth to remind them that they were envisioning a futile dream but Nezuko shushed him desperately. Deep inside, she knew she wanted to hear more. “Nii-san is super strong and kind, everything a hero is! And you’re super duper smart and brave! You would be perfect to save the world and be super duper famous!”

Takeo rolled his eyes and scoffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah, and I bet they’ll be stalked by the paparazzi and get paid billions of dollars,” he grumbled before glancing back to them nodding enthusiastically. “My sarcasm flew straight over your heads, didn’t it…?” he murmured before he glanced to Hanako taking out a crumpled piece of paper, haphazardly scribbled on with crayons. She then handed it to Nezuko, who was quite startled by the gesture.

A… drawing?

“I even drew you and nii-san together as superheroes back at school!” she added, bouncing up and down and giggling.

Oh. Be still her beating heart.

On the drawing was stick figures of Tanjiro and Nezuko in gaudy superhero costumes, presumably standing on top of a roof and surrounded by enthusiastic people cheering for them, praising them and chanting their names with reverence. The sight made Nezuko burst into laughter, tears of pure joy threatening to stream down her cheeks- her heart nearly lept up inside her chest.

“Is that-” Nezuko stammered before regaining a small shred of her composure. “Is that me, Hanako? Oh my goodness… oh, sweetie-” she whispered out before leaning in and brushing Hanako’s bangs back to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I look so heroic… and so does nii-san Tanjiro! You did so well!”

Shigeru nodded in agreement. “You’re going to do even better, nee-san!  You’re going to save the world and protect everyone, including us!”

Those words spurred something inside Nezuko- a deep, primal instinct to protect and preserve. 

“Don’t worry, I will, Shigeru,” Nezuko whispered. “I’ll protect you.”

Every word of what she spoke formulated itself into a solemn promise- a promise that she meant every word of from the bottom of her heart, the depths of her soul.

Nee-san will protect all of you.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

There were many rumors circulating around the mysterious Sakonji Urokodaki, the humble and rather elderly school janitor. Most notable for being a benevolent and gentle soul- a mentor figure to many struggling souls, all while hiding behind that unusual red tengu mask of his. Compassionate eyes shadowed beneath the initial sterness and gruffness of his words to most.

Sabito and Makomo, the only two students who seemed especially close to him, were the only ones who seemed to know much about him- yet they refused to disclose any information about the quiet janitor. So naturally, nobody seemed to comprehend how, when even he had aged a great deal past his youth, his body remained perfectly healthy, his heart continuing to pump blood to his limbs with vigor and his lungs still remaining ever-so-strong. Unusually strong- somehow he even managed to outpace all the students in the gym by a great deal when running laps as instructed by Giyuu-sama- he managed to outrun even the most athletic ones. Urokodaki himself remembered Tanjiro’s bright red eyes gleaming with surprise as he ran ahead of him effortlessly, his breaths even and controlled, indicated by the slight flaring of his nostrils, and Tanjiro’s keen eye for details remembered his feat normally thought impossible.

Nobody truly knew who he was. He was a man that kept his secrets to himself and those he could trust. And he was a good judge of character, for he trusted the people he did with very good reason.

With nearly extrasensory perception, impeccable intuition, and an honorable heart, he was everything that secretly some students aspired to be- the spirit of a warrior, shadowed behind the mask of the tengu.

Nevertheless, it was still a surprise to him when he felt a light buzz in his pocket, followed by an all too familiar ringtone. He looked down to see that the light coming from his pocket wasn’t white, but rather a unique shade of bright aqua blue.

Ah. So they’re the ones contacting him during his lunch break hour. Whatever the matter may be, it must be important.

Discreetly slipping into the janitor’s closet through the door and slinking into the darker corners, making sure the lights were turned off, he slipped off his tengu mask and dialed in a code on the glowing touchscreen of the phone-like device. The harsh glow emitting from the screen forced him to squint, scrunching his brows together in an irritated expression.

“What is it now, Mrs. Ubayashiki? It’s my break hour,” he hissed through clenched teeth. Almost everywhere, he opted for discretion- his normally kind eyes were always filled with paranoia in public locations, and even one small slip of the gesture or tongue could blow his cover and force him to go dark, which he secretly hoped wouldn’t happen despite pretending not to care- he had grown accustomed to being an ordinary school janitor with no secrets whatsoever, after all.

“I wanted to contact you at a better time, but pressing matters warrant urgency, Urokodaki-sama,” the lady behind the screen explained: Amane Ubayashiki. Her snow-white hair and calming, dark violet eyes that glimmered with undecipherable serenity was all too familiar to him- it wasn’t too unlike her for her to call so suddenly. 

“Name it,” Urokodaki sighed out, pinching and rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation before the next few words spoken made his spine go ramrod straight with raw fear.

“We’ve recieved numerous reports of a 1-1-0, its general location being discerned to be right here in Osaka, Japan.”

An unidentified object, presumably created or affected by a blood demon art. The only reason she would call if it’s exhibiting any anomalous behavior of sorts that puts the public in danger.

Urokodaki didn’t realize until Amane nodded in solemn confirmation that he had uttered his private musings out loud. “Surely… you don’t mean ‘that’ 1-1-0?” he whispered. More and more questions began to pour out of his mouth, he couldn’t stop himself. “Was it verified by headquarters? What kind of 1-1-0 is it? How much of a threat does it pose to Osaka’s population?”

Amane gave a tense chuckle, her anxiety evident in her voice that normally flowed like honey.

“All we know is that it’s a peculiar device capable of manipulating energy and gravity fields inside of it to a dangerous degree. Its architecture is somewhat similar to a device from World War 1 itself, and no technology was ever that advanced in that period of time, so we assume it’s been tinkered with quite a bit by demons who found it,” she explained. “We also haven’t been able to geolocate its exact coordinates, so this mission is going to be one wild goose chase.”

She then took in a deep breath after uttering those words.

“I know you’re tired, Sakonji,” she stated in that gentle yet firm voice. A strange feeling of acceptance bloomed in his gut when Urokodaki heard her call him by his first name for once, throwing formalities to the wind. 

“I know you’re perfectly content with your life as a school janitor. But there is a reason why you didn’t refuse active duty and go into retirement- maybe it’s how you enjoy conversing with the distinctively British scientists that joined the organization in our efforts to manufacture more Nichirin swords and develop poisons to incapacitate them? Maybe it’s that you’re secretly begging for an assignment as you sit here in this congested janitor’s closet, talking to me with the device we provided you that you’re still keeping?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

Oh. So this was a personal attack on him now.

“Or perhaps you feel that it is humanity’s sworn duty to defend the Earth and their kin, their home from these kinds of threats. We are persistent, the flame in our souls undying. We swore to do whatever it takes to eliminate the demon race and save all of mankind- and we shall stick to that promise if it’s the last thing we do. And you… you adhered to that principle more than anyone else, even when you were a Mizunoto rank Demon Slayer. So, why here? Why now, does your resolve falter?”

Urokodaki’s mouth ran dry, a strange sensation pricking the back of his eyes. He had grown to greatly care for the students here- he couldn’t let them bear witness to his secret, but the thought of them- dead, because of his negligence… it was always too much to bear. He predicted that the last plea would be enough to goad him into being reassigned back on active duty.

Sure enough, he was right.

“Please, Sakonji Urokodaki. We need you back on the field.”

Something inside of him burst akin to how a dam would crumble apart- and the next thing he knew, raw resolve was coursing through his veins, a glint of determination in his eye visible before he slipped the red Tengu mask back on.

“Permission to bring my disciples on for risk assessment, ma’am?”

________________________________________________________

Sabito and Makomo were just finishing up lunch before they saw the school janitor on two feet walking towards them, and they immediately stood up, spines rigid and ramrod straight. Vacant, calloused hands- not holding a broom, and with a katana instead sheathed at his side. His outfit was changed entirely- a black jacket zipped up by gold buttons, and slightly less baggy black hakama pants. Replacing his dusty brown shoes were pristine tabi socks where the pants were tucked in, followed by blue-strapped Zori sandals.

Yet it was the blue, cloud patterned haori that caught their attention the most.

“Suit up. We’ve been called on the field, departure in ten- lock it or lose it,” was all he had to utter for the two of them to salute and nod. “Sir, yes sir!”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

“This is a terrible idea… oh, this is a horrible, horrible idea. We’re going to die out here for sure…”

Only the blonde boy’s quiet whimpers to himself could be heard throughout the sputtering and puffs of the van’s engine that they drove in. Nezuko was trying her best not to drive herself insane over Zenitsu’s quiet ramblings, Tanjiro equally straining to keep a cheerful and demure smile painted on his face. Inosuke, meanwhile, never beat around the bush- he was always blunt and straightforward with his feelings.

“Can you literally shut up for TWO SECONDS, Monitsu!? Nobody’s going to die!” Inosuke exclaimed, to which golden eyes shot him a frightened glare. “Literally everybody sane enough not to go to an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night for a three-day vacation says otherwise! Maybe you all want to suffer gruesome deaths on a Saturday, but I sure don’t!” he exclaimed before turning to his right. Kanao was awkwardly sandwiched between the two bickering boys, her normally serene compound eyes blinking in confusion.

“And you, Kanao-chan! Just why did you agree to Inosuke’s plan!? I thought you and Nezuko-chan were supposed to be the most sensible out of all of us- I mean, you saw the news! Man-eating demons are prowling around and about at this hour- are we TRYING to get ourselves killed!?” he practically wailed, to which Nezuko sighed in exasperation and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“The common public call them man-eating demons, the government calls them immortal supersoldier experiments who gained reality-bending powers from some flower species that appeared and disappeared twice now. Quite the mouthful, if I do say so myself- and extremely unnecessary. The contrast between magical creature of myth and actually plausible science-fiction is evident in this real-life example,” she explained. “Do you really believe that I’d have the audacity to study them without the proper equipment?”

Kanao shrugged and gave a quiet, rather shy murmur of a response: “I just flipped the coin and it landed heads. That meant I could go with you guys on… whatever this trip is.”

“Of course. The coin would tell you to make the WORST possible decision!” Zenitsu practically shrieked in reply, his voice reeking of exasperation and frustration. Their bickering was soon interrupted by a purposefully loud sigh. “Alright- we’re here, gentlemen- and the only woman with a pulse in the car. Welcome… to the middle of absolutely fucking nowhere.”

“Language, Nezuko,” Tanjiro replied sternly, to which his Imouto nodded and exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Right. Sorry.”

The awkward silence that followed the brief exchange was uncomfortably palpable- glancing at the nearly broken down warehouse, only a light cough from Zenitsu temporarily managed to break the atmosphere.

The structural integrity of the large warehouse that lay in front of them seemed a bit questionable, what with the rotting pieces of wood present, just barely managing to hold up the windowless structure that towered over them. The scent of the building seemed old, must and aged- the bark of the wood was peeling off the frames, the outer ceramic and metal walls discolored and haphazardly torn apart in miscellaneous places. The inside seemed much more horrendous from a distance- in the mere fact that it was clouded in darkness, enveloping said interior like a thick fog. Only the overgrowth was visible- coming from inside, seeming to enshroud the walls and crawl outside the door from within the abyss.

“Cozy, isn’t it…?” Tanjiro murmured underneath his breath.

“Yes, perfectly so!” Zenitsu hissed. “At least we’re going to die with our bodies on top of a bunch of plants- that should serve as a perfect grave for us!” he groaned, spreading his arms in a rather overdramatic gesture before letting them fall slack at his side as he hid himself behind Kanao. “Ladies first,” he murmured, and Inosuke groaned. The looks they shared between each other communicated the exact same idea of sweet-talking Zenitsu, goading him into going inside with the rest of the group.

Nezuko’s hands practically shot up almost instantly in submission and denial of the task.

“Not it.”

____________________________________________

Only the pitter patter of footsteps could be heard through the darkness, but the silent huffs of breaths were only kept to themselves. The moonlit glow illuminated itself onto the verdant grass- a poetic sight for anyone to behold, really.

“The moon is quite beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” the raven-haired girl with the white and blue kitsune mask asked. Merely a serene smile was etched onto her face as she continued sprinting alongside her comrade and her master, barely breaking a sweat.

The redhead next to him merely grumbled in response. “Whether it’s night or day, we train to death, Makomo,” he muttered. “By both day and night we’re demon slayers and counter terrorists- sworn to protect all of mankind. Whether you’re in a bloody skirt or pants, we’re dressed like gentlemen and kicking ass like those US Navy SEALs if they were samurai- this is no time for idle chitchat when we’re on active duty again.”

That grotesquely honest response seemed to earn a playful pout from Makomo. “Awh, Sabito-san. You’re just no fun,” she playfully crooned, to which a scoff pried its way out of Sabito’s throat. “Don’t patronize me.”

The both of them suddenly swore they saw a playful smile cross their master’s face. “Master Urokodaki, sir…?” Sabito asked. “Whatever could the matter be? You’re… smiling, sir- did you find Makomo’s joke funny?”

The grin grew wider in response, accentuating the wrinkles on his face. “Ah, but who said anything about patronizing you? Even being as old as I am, I still have a sense of humor. I just wish I could say the same for you,” he states rather boldly.

Makomo just barely repressed a giggle, letting it out as a snort at the sight of Sabito’s incredulous gaze.

Did he just-

“I’ll race you there-!” he replied before his body shot up off the ground, taking off into the trees, his body flipping and doing all sorts of acrobatics unnatural to a normal person twice as young- even when they trained under him, it was surprising watching his body contort itself so effortlessly into letters.

Well shit, now we’re already losing sight of him.

“O-Oi! Master Urokodaki, sir, wait up!” they both called in unison.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

“No way… this thing’s alive! How?”

The device once again hummed and pulsated with a faint glow, and the gentle crunching of shoe soles against scattered bales of hay abruptly stopped.

“Wait- alive!?” Zenitsu practically shrieked. His golden eyes began to shrink and widen in terror- the poor boy swore he felt his heart plummet in his chest with an alarming sensation of dread sending sparks of fear to his stomach. “Surely, you don’t mean… as in- ALIVE, alive!?” he asked. 

The recent events of trudging through the utter darkness of the warehouse before Inosuke’s foot clanged against metal. The group had jerked at the sound of a thudding body and a yell of alarm from their friend echoing throughout the warehouse- yet the faint glow from the hay followed by a silent thrum of energy crackling around them unsettled them even more. For a brief moment, the air seemed to thin as they made their way over to the source… and uncovered the peculiar device.

Then here they were.

“Atusko’s synced to the Interface’s central grid,” Nezuko explained, fingers reaching out as if to almost run across the device buried deep in the gritty sediment they cleared up. “She’s picking up radiomolecules, the data being mapped in an exponential decay pattern to measure half-life of the atoms- but I can’t detect which isotope,” she explained. Almost as if to respond, the computer gave a series of trills and beeps before a female, robotic voice spoke. “Indeed. At this time, I am unable to zero in on a comprehensible isotope of this known world- the values of the proton emissions still remain a string of garbled characters.”

Ah, well that’s CERTAINLY not doing anything to reassure us, Zenitsu thought to himself rather bitterly, his lips curving into a scowl. “Then what are we even here for?” he groaned, dramatically falling down onto one of the hay stacks. “It’s freezing cold, my lips are drying up and my hands are probably frosting over right about now! I want to go home instead of being left here to be eaten by a demon in a place like this!” he wailed. Almost immediately he received a swift thud on the head in response from a very much disgruntled and annoyed Tanjiro.

“Calm down, Zenitsu!” the burgundy-haired boy exclaimed. “Nobody’s going to get eaten by demons because there are no demons!”

“Oh, yeah? How can you be so sure of yourself!?” Zenitsu retorted, to which Tanjiro pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation and sighed. “All of this drama on the news is probably just a hoax… it’ll clear up in a few days and the public’s going to calm down, stuff like this happens all the time! Trust me when I say that there’s nothing to worry about,” the other reassured, though there was a hint of doubt in his words that thickened the air with tension and uncertainty.

Memories of bloodshed flashed through their minds- the haunting screams of the dead, those who left too soon… in the field amidst the battle where countless sacrifices were made, and where claws and steel clashed relentlessly in the darkness- underneath the grim glow of the pale moonlight, a single lotus bud remains pure and white.

When the bell rings clear, marking midnight, two hours to dawn… the petals stain and bloom red. May they hope to put this beautiful cacophony behind them and forevermore bask in the sun.

Too many have they lost.

Suddenly, Atsuko nonchalantly began to spit out tidbits of scavenged information once more, startling the group out of their silence: “From the overall technological implementations on this device… its shaped like a broken off piece of a dashboard, vaguely resembling a battery. This device resembles another device, used in World War 1 by Russia. It appears vaguely Soviet as well, bearing an old and weathered USSR logo painted on the back.”

“Property of the Russians, eh?” Zenitsu mused under his breath.

Then a disembodied voice piped up from behind them that sounded very much familiar: “You wouldn’t be wrong to say so.”

The group swiveled their heads around so fast they almost snapped their own necks, only for their eyes to widen at the sight of the unexpected visitor. “Sabito!?” they exclaimed in unison.

“And… Makomo!” Nezuko added in shock, motioning to the petite black-haired girl behind the other. Her confusion only grew when she saw the school janitor- yes, the school janitor- also dressed in the same unfamiliar garb as their fellow students- the black gakuran jacket with the hakama pants and polished black shoes, not to mention two of them wearing kitsune masks. “Urokodaki san, you’re here as well?” Kanao inquired only to hear a shriek coming from behind her.

“Eek! The school janitor and the two other students are here! Did you guys follow us!?” Zenitsu shrieked in alarm.

“That is Sakonji Urokodaki to you, young man,” the man in the tengu mask expressed as he walked by them. “And I think the question that I should be asking is that what are YOU doing here? You are all compromising your safety just by being here, and this location is confidential,” he stated with the authority of a military official, to which Inosuke brazenly yelled a reply, unfazed: “HUH!? Whaddya’ mean we’re in government territory, old man! WE found this warehouse, finders keepers! That means YOU all shouldn’t be here!”

Tanjiro’s entire body tensed up with the fervor of a man on death row. “Inosuke! Respect!” he hissed through gritted teeth, upon seeing Sabito’s grey eyes spark with clear annoyance. “You still didn’t answer my Master’s question,” the pink-haired boy growled, the baritone in his voice all too sudden and sending shivers throughout Tanjiro’s being. In being confronted, the poor boy could only stammer out a response that bubbled to the surface of his mind amidst his internal panic: “...V-vacation… w-w-weekend...”

Explosive laughter echoed throughout the warehouse, and Zenitsu flinched, sobbing in fear. “VACATION!? You lot came here for a goddamn vacation!?” Sabito finally yelled, enraged. “What the hell is going through those minds of yours, honestly! One would think you’d go to the beach, or one of Osaka’s fishing towns, not to the middle of nowhere! And this equipment that your sister brought, Tanjiro? We ought to arrest her for espionage!” he exclaimed, an incredulous expression crossing his face.

Nezuko shrugged, ignoring the sudden spark of anger that flared in her older brother’s eyes. “Don’t blame the woman that lost the bet,” she nonchalantly replied to the older boy’s outburst, pointing to a rather pissed Inosuke in the background. Makomo’s gentle eyes of a deep cyan color almost curved themselves in response, her demure smile barely holding back a chuckle. “You heard the girl, Sabito. An agreement is an agreement, no matter the terms. Now wipe that frown off your face, you’re giving yourself premature grey hairs with how much you stress over things.”

“Am I wrong, though?” Sabito asked, spreading his arms in exasperation. “Master Urokodaki cares about these children a great deal. Seeing them put themselves in danger so wantonly is a valid cause to warrant growing grey hairs over, thank you very much!”

Makomo shot the group a weary glance that clearly said: There’s no winning with this guy. You’ll get used to it, though.

“Anyways,” Urokodaki stated, clearing his throat rather abruptly. “We need you and your friends to clear the premises, Kamado. We’re here on official duty to investigate a 1-1-0. It’s an unknown object affected by mystical demon arts- we still haven’t conducted a proper risk assessment, so we need you to do this for your own safety as soon as possible.”

Official duty? What...?

Zenitsu nodded. “Well, that’s wonderful to know, sir. You have yourself a nice evening- or night, whatever. I-If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be on our merry w-”

“No. We’re staying,” Nezuko stated boldly, stepping forward. A pleased look briefly flashed across Inosuke’s face before he yelled out a statement of agreement: “Me too, all of us want in! I demand to know what the hell is going on here!”

“You don’t understand,” Makomo added, narrowing her eyes. “You have to leave before they arrive.”

“Who?” the whole group asked in unison before the device pulsated and hummed with another faint glow, more aggressively this time. All eyes shot to the box wedged in the wall before a tremor made the earth beneath them quake, trembling with a ferocity as though the earth would open up any second, swallowing them whole.

“Nevermind. It looks like they’re already here.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kanao’s eyes resembled that of her sister’s- only a haze of gradient purple fading into lilac, somewhat similar to a bug’s compound eyes. Further accentuated by how well she caught on to visual details, such as the smallest crumb on a person’s shirt, or the individual linings of bark on a tree. She displayed little to no emotion in them, the demure smile she wore on her face never reaching her eyes.

Yet for the first time, albeit for a brief moment- they seemed to glimmer in fear as the earth rumbled.

“Who?” she managed to ask after silently deciding against what the coin had told her- to keep quiet like she always had. “Are we… under attack?” 

Her thoughts silently mused themselves to her as her lungs squeezed in on her heart. This emotion, she recognized- was fear. The emotion she thought was cowardly and pathetic of humans to display. Fear reduced people to nothing but quivering, sobbing wrecks- to what they were when they were newborns.

I want my older sisters. I want nee-san Shinobu and nee-san Kanae.

The words that Urokodaki muttered with disdain dripping from his voice made everyone’s blood run cold.

“Demons.”

That singular word somehow managed to freeze everyone’s blood solid and petrify them with fear for a brief moment. In that pocket of time, so short yet still feeling like forever- man only knew horror.

Ohhh, we’re done for.

Nezuko immediately scrambled to pack her devices scattered about the ground, a couple of dirt scuffs staining ivory-colored skin- especially on her petite hands. Specks of hay and dust were sticking to her light pink asanoha patterned jacket. “They geolocated us? Or were they in this area already?” she inquired, curiosity evident in her voice. Zenitsu practically shrieked, curling himself up into a ball on the ground.

“Who cares about that! We’re going to die either way”

Makomo brandished a rather strangely colored pale blue katana from the hilt, cool steel glinting in the moonlight against the blade. “Not as long as we protect you,” she solemnly stated under her breath. Zenitsu rolled his tear-filled eyes.

“You think a SWORD is going to help us get out of this situation alive!?” he screamed. It was clear that everyone was panicking- Zenitsu could hear everyone’s hearts quickening, their breathing coming in hastier pants. “Even if we did manage to get rid of the demons, that device looks like it’s going to detonate any minute now!”

Sabito nodded in agreement, eyebrows scrunching into a bundle of worry at the center evident in the creases and wrinkles. “The blonde crybaby’s right- we need a containment case for the 1-1-0 for safe transport back to Headquarters,” he stated, almost in a commanding voice. His grey eyes, tinted with a subtle violet shade darkened- like the storm clouds just before lightning struck. Inosuke let out a growl. “Who cares! We’re already under attack anyways, let’s just rip the damn thing out of the ground and get out of here!” he exclaimed. That seemed to to trigger a rather alarmed response in Nezuko, who whipped her head to him with wide eyes. “It has a fluctuating power core, frequencies way above ten exahertz! Even the smallest amount of external stimuli could cause it to detonate upon contact, and you want to disturb its slumber with your bare hands! Are you out of your mind!?”

Another rumble tore across the ground, forcing Tanjiro to his knees. Nezuko gasped, quickly running over to her brother and helping him up, murmuring a light ‘nii-san’ under her breath. Her momentary relief was immediately shattered when she heard Inosuke’s boisterous voice rumble out yet another retort, sounding finalized: “Whatever, Kazuto, but science class is over!”

Then he plunged his fingers into the ground and ripped the small battery-like machine from the earth.

“WHOA!” Nezuko shouted, jaw agape with distress.

They were doomed.

Sabito’s eyes widened in alarm and he rushed over to Inosuke as fast as his legs could carry him, mouth screeching incoherent phrases haphazardly stitched together by shouts of rage, Nezuko scurrying behind him. Finally he spat out the first comprehensible phrase: “What the HELL!”

“WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA, WAIT- you did NOT just pull an unidentified object out of the ground, what is the MATTER with you!” Nezuko shrieked out, her voice shrill with terror. “Do you not realize the amount of proton emmissions coming from this thing? We don’t know what’ll happen if it gets excited! We’ll all get blown to pieces by the high-frequency energy beams coming from this thing, you hear me? PIECES, and it’ll be ALL because of your blatant carelessness!”

Inosuke merely responded by grabbing Nezuko by the wrist and hauling her petite body over his shoulders like a potato sack of sorts. More humanoid figures dashed within the darkness- a mere slash of the sword audible against the howling of the trembling earth, and the thud of bodies could be heard against the ground, the moonlight illuminating beastly faces locked into a silent cry. The gaping maw revealing the rowfuls of countless fangs lurking within was sure to give everyone nightmares the next time they slept.

“Yeah, we’re getting out of here-” Zenitsu whimpered before a thud of feet landing on the dry soil echoed throughout the warehouse. Petrifying eyes with crimson sclera and ghostly irises seemed to shine through the dark, and figures with cream white skin dressed to the teeth in traditional garb seemed to growl and chuckle at them, almost as if taunting them from the cloak of the night. “Careful, children... on top of smelling your utterly delicious blood, we can smell fear~” one cooed in an almost raspy voice that seemed to utterly drip with an animalistic hunger. His tongue instantly moved to moisten dry lips, and he began to salivate as though he and the others accompanying him hadn’t eaten in days before they cackled in delight.

“I-I… t-t-think you a-already s...s-smelled m-my f-f-fear,” Zenitsu stammered out, shying further away from the starving beasts that seemed to encircle and surround them. “...Warm… l-liquid f-f-fear… in u-unsavory p-places…”

“Yuck, shut up already!” Inosuke hissed through gritted teeth, his pale green eyes meeting inhuman white ones with simultaneously aggressive and protective ferocity.

I don’t think they would find that particularly delicious, Sabito dryly comments in his mind, his face contorting into that of barely restrained disgust.

They were pulled out of their thoughts when they heard a low, guttural growl erupt through the silent air- the drum that marked the beginning of war. “DIE!” one demon shrieked. The speed at which she charged was blinding- yet Makomo seemed to react even faster. A ribbon of water seemed to apprate before the group’s eyes as she weaved effortlessly through the air, vaulting off the wall and instantly beheading the creature. The head thudded to the ground at Zenitsu’s feet, both it and the body crumbling almost instantly into ash upon contact and scattering in the wind. Makomo merely gritted her teeth in response and took another languid inhale, her chest rising. “We have to get out of here- breathing techniques aren’t meant to be used in an enclosed space like this.”

“Uh- just what are you talking about? That was amazing!” Nezuko exclaimed, motioning to the pile of ash on the floor that had not already blown away. Urokodaki facepalmed in exasperation. “Her words translate to ‘we need to get you to safety’, Kamado. You all packed?” he asked, the Tengu mask eyeing her. 

“Hmmm… yup!” Tanjiro nodded. “Packed and ready to gooOOOUWAAAH!”

Almost instantly, Urokodaki’s callous, wrinkled hand wrapped themselves into an iron grip around Tanjiro’s wrist as the two figures shot forward towards the exit like a blur through the air, plowing through the demons that desperately tried to block their path to no avail. Nezuko, grabbing for dear life onto Inosuke’s back, her nails digging into the fabric, gave off an alarmed yelp as he rushed forward alongside Urokodaki, albeit barely being able to keep up with someone of the janitor’s unnatural physical caliber. Zenitsu, Tanjiro and Kanao followed close behind, all of them praying that they would emerge from this predicament alive.

A thunderous boom pierced through the midnight, nearly tearing the heavens asunder.

The structure behind them gave out and crumbled, sinking into the ground- and coincidentally, the device in Inosuke’s hands pulsated with a faint thrum of energy that crackled in the air around them forebodingly.

________________________________________________

After a few minutes, the group glanced to Zenitsu on the ground whimpering and crying to himself, genuine sobs escaping from his throat. He heaved in another elongated breath, his chest trembling as it rose before he let out an exhale in a string of “ohmygodohmygodohmygod” that soon trailed into incoherent sobs vaguely glued together. For the entirety of the group- the image of gaping maws littered with countless fangs fangs and cold, inhuman eyes roving across their trembling bodies would forever be burned into the back of their minds- they nodded a silent agreement to that fact.

For now, all the kids wanted was to find shelter from the frigid breeze of night- away from the demons, away from chaos and bloodshed- and simply slumber underneath the warm sunlight offering its comforting embrace.

For all that the light touched was good, and they wanted nothing more than the good.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Usually the dinner table would be full of chatter- of bright conversations and eager children bustling about the kitchen and rushing to get to school on time even though it was merely a staircase followed by a ten minute stroll from the Kamado household. It would be filled with boisterous laughter and eager conversations. It was still the same this morning- save for a few anomalies in Tanjiro’s and Nezuko’s usual routine. 

The rolled omelletes that their mother made this morning tasted blander than usual and left an uncomfortable tingle in their mouth- merely swallowing bite after bite took a fair bit of effort. The texture ran dry in their mouths, yet they made no comment of it and forced the corners of their mouths into a smile.

They just couldn’t stomach food- not after the nauseating sights of blood so fresh in their mind.

Demons.

Why did they feel so familiar? Why did Nezuko understand their tragedy, their disposition, their emotion… their agonizing hunger, forever torturing them? Why did Tanjiro feel pity for these creatures that slew their brothers and sisters in cold blood and twisted glee?

Why did both of them feel it was their duty to protect humanity from these creatures?

They could do nothing but ignore the instinctual desire, deep down- wherever it came from. 

It had taken some convincing and especially carefully-crafted praise from Tanjiro for Inosuke to hand the strange ‘1-1-0’ device to Urokodaki, Sabito and Makomo. The others were still quite shell-shocked from the revelation of the janitor’s and his closest disciples’s secret occupations, to which they then confessed that it remained classified for the protection of the public and Kimetsu Academy. They then swore the group to secrecy on the topic of their identity as Demon Slayers, which, again, took some convincing for Inosuke to agree to, before Makomo apologized profusely for what they had to witness and left.

They need not use words- merely silent glances and nods of acknowledgement was enough to discuss the topic among them.

Right now, the avid chatter in the background is not enough to distract them from multiple stressors that was enough to drive the two siblings insane and make their temples nearly implode on themselves. Nezuko’s bleary eyes which fought to stay open to avoid nightmares for almost seven hours straight glanced to the mountain of paperwork sitting on one of the nearby tables- overdue bills, threats of cancellations and evictions, collections, among them being a few notifications for accidentally bounced checks and reminders to pay back debts and loans taken from their bank. Tanjiro has been sitting across from Nezuko at the dining table for the past hour, eyeing the monstrous pile of doom, both with their head in their hands.

“Father…” Nezuko mouthed to Tanjiro in a soundless whisper, to which he shook his head. 

“He’ll pay it all off. Trust him.”

Only their younger siblings clambering to the kitchen table to gorge down their food greedily kept them from drowning in their own irrepressable fretting- they could only wonder how long it would take before they could no longer afford electricity, water… or even food- they could only wonder how long it would take for their family to lose their house, their job, everything- and become beggars on the roadside.

Not for their siblings or their parents. Not for their family, no- they can never face that fate.

Suddenly, a rather firm and punctuated one-two knock at the door could be heard, the sound reverbrating throughout the entire house. Anxiety instantly flooded Tanjiro’s and Nezuko’s body- they swore they could feel ice climbing up their legs and rooting them to the chairs they were sitting in.

Knock, knock.

Nobody seemed to notice how the knocking grew more insistent, while still remaining that punctuated and careful patience- except for the two siblings who were more on edge than usual, of course. In the moment, they envied the carefreeness of the rest of their family.

Knock, knock. “Moshimoshi, is this the Kamado family household?”

Well, shit. That voice didn’t sound familiar at ALL.

Knock, knock. “I would like to request the presence of Tanjiro Kamado and Nezuko Kamado, please! There is something of paramount importance that I must discuss with them!”

Their father seemed to think nothing of it. “Tanjiro, Nezuko, can you go get the door? It sounds like whoever’s at the door wants to talk with you.” That seemed to almost instantly pull them straight out of their thoughts. “Y-yes, father!” they replied simultaneously.

Who the hell could it be at this hour? On the weekend mornings, no less…

Their eyes peeped through the keyhole, expecting to see a very much pissed off landlord ready to evict their family. Their breath hitched in their lungs as they braced themselves for the worst, only to see a stranger- an unfamiliar man with black hair in split bangs framing his face… dressed in the same garb as Urokodaki, Sabito and Makomo were in yesterday. The black gakuran jacket, neatly buttoned up alongside the matching hakama pants and zori sandals… there was no mistaking it- even a sword was neatly sheathed at his side. Was this man a coworker of the three that helped them escape out of that unforeseen situation? 

The incident happened nearly three weeks ago. They thought they would’ve forgotten about it by now.

The door finally creaked open with a couple rattles and a carefully executed twist of the knob. 

“Kon’nichiwa!” the young man exclaimed brightly.

Nezuko raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued by the unexpected visitor. “And, uhm… you are…?”

The man offered a pleasant yet nervous smile that did nothing to clear the two siblings of their suspicions. “Murata Fukunaga, Mister and Miss Kamado! I work at Ubuyashiki Corporations, and Director Kagaya Ubuyashiki has officially extended an open invitation to speak with the two of y-”

Clack.

“Tanjiro, Nezuko, who was that?” their mother asked, temporarily glancing away from the rice boiling on the stove.

“Some crazy person. Don’t worry about it too much,” Nezuko yawned out, leaning against the nearby table and nearly faceplanting in the mountain of paperwork on it. Tanjiro instinctively patted the folded flip phone in his back pocket that began to vibrate. It took quite a bit of fumbling around, but after a few seconds he managed to pick it up and answer the call only to hear Murata that didn’t seem offended in the slightest.

“Moshimoshi?” Tanjiro asked.

“Mister and Miss Kamado, please open the door-”

Beep.

Tanjiro sighed in exasperation before glancing to the confused looks on his parents’s faces, seemingly directed at the paranoid grimace written across his own face. “That… uh- t-that must’ve b-been my, uh… f-friend, yeah! My, uh, classmate from- school,” he blurted out randomly, cheeks burning with shame and internally slapping himself for responding with such a poorly constructed lie. “I-I’ll go talk to him outside. C-C’mon, Nezuko,” he said, discreetly shooting her an exasperated and stern glare as they walked back towards the door. “Did you really have to drag us both back inside and shut the door on him like that?” he whispered once they were out of earshot. Nezuko pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation, her eyes glinting with suspicion. 

“Really, brother? Ubuyashiki Corporations? Owned by the multibillionare and philanthropist, who is also friends with the head of the Department of Defense of Japan? He who is a famous noble family’s descendant, who’s lineage goes back beyond the Heian era, and he who serves as the wall of protection for literally the entirety of Japan? He who has the net worth of Scrooge McDuck, I daresay? Kagaya Ubuyashiki? THE Kagaya Ubuyashiki? Please, brother, don’t be so ludicrously droll,” Nezuko scoffed out, placing her hands on her hips in that comically dubious manner of hers. 

“We’re not big shots- and we’re obviously far from rich, given the mountain of paperwork we have to deal with every three months. Now you’re suggesting that a member of his company would clamber down the stairs all the way from ground level just to see us? I’m calling it that he’s either bluffing, or we’re in trouble from the higher-ups.”

Oh, did Tanjiro dearly hope it wasn’t the latter.

Closing the door behind them and gently pressing their back against it before glancing back to the anxious teenager in all black before them, Tanjiro offers a warm smile to hopefully ease the other’s quickening pulse.

“My sincerest apologies for before. Please, come inside and sit with us so we can serve you some tea-” he offers before his sentence is rudely cut of by Nezuko grabbing a fistful of the fabric on his arm as if to interrogate him. 

“Okay, buddy, first thing’s first. How in the HELL did you get my brother’s number?” his imouto growled through clenched teeth, spitting out the words dripping with venom. Tanjiro’s eyes widened and he did his best to wordlessly scold his overprotective younger sister while convincing her to at least let go of the poor boy.

“G-Gomen ne!” Murata stammered out, his skin going as white as bedsheets. “I’m sorry! I bear no ill intentions, nor do I mean to frighten you in any way! Director Ubayashiki has personally requested the presence of the two of you via the extension of a formal invitation- for what reason remains undisclosed to those of my rank. You are not in any danger, I assure you of this!”

“Ah, that is wonderful news! And now that Murata has confessed himself like you wanted, Nezuko…” Tanjiro said, shooting another stern and dissaproving look at his sister still glaring daggers at the poor boy. Nezuko sighed before crossing her arms and doing her best to at least somewhat soften her glare. “Fine. But what’s a member of a multi-billion dollar company even doing here?”

“Well, as you have heard, milady-”

“No, I mean, why are you here. As in, here, here. Here, as in the outskirts of the coastal city below the actual heart of Osaka, below ground level. In one of the most rundown districts in Osaka. Why would someone of your prestige clamber down a staircase just to see us and the mountain of paperwork that we as a lower middle class family have to deal with? What’s the big idea here?” she inquired, her questions becoming more aggressive by the sentence.

“Well, as I have said, milady, Ubayashiki Kagaya has personally requested your presence, and has thus extended an open invitation to Ubayashiki Tower to you. Know that he is a busy man, but also that he would like to meet with you at any time that works for you,” Murata explained once more, trying his best not to shit his pants from the silent daggers the slightly younger, rose pink-eyed girl was shooting at him.

“Ah, I see,” the two siblings said in unison, taking a step back. “That…”

“You are welcome at any time. We hope to see you soon!” he finished off cheerfully, nodding his head politely before making a swift exit. Seemingly, he didn’t care about the fact that he cut them off in such an abrupt manner.

Tanjiro and Nezuko merely stood, staring after the young man’s escaping figure, the lines between reality and ridiculous fever dream blurred. Maybe they were still asleep after all, there was no way of telling- even when Tanjiro asked Nezuko to pinch her, who complied maybe a little too well. When they’re left standing in the quiet neighborhood once more, jaws agape, they simply blink once or twice and duck back inside, no more words on their lips. They slink back into the hallway to meet the eyes of their family, narrowed into slits. “Who was that?” they ask, to which the siblings are tight lipped.

“We told you- just a friend,” they replied, hastily but gently guiding the others back to the kitchen. There were other issues, like their homework, and their steadily increasing mountain of paperwork piling up on the living room table. Temporary distractions from such issues couldn’t hold a candle to the more pressing matters at hand that they felt like was their responsibility.

They must not know.

They can never know.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Climbing back up the concrete staircase behind their home to ground level is like stepping foot into a whole new world entirely. Osaka, a colorful harbor city which never sleeps. The bustling port sitting on the coast was where they resided- essentially one giant commercial and cultural center, where the influx of imports and exports were at an all time high, more so than any other city. Tanjiro and Nezuko particularly attributed their home to its modern architecture, hearty street food, and most importantly, the nightlife.

Seriously, the city was blindingly bright- regardless of whether it was night or day. Once you entered ground level, beyond the poorer districts, there was never a moment of peace or quiet. Tranquility was practically nonexistent.

The hands of the two siblings were intertwined, since it was easy to get lost in the afternoon crowds bustling up and down the streets and across the intersections. They couldn’t help but marvel at the ingenious and grandiose architecture surrounding them, especially the magnificent skyscrapers- no matter how many times they would walk by them on the way to school, it never got old. The way the pristine windows glistened underneath the afternoon sun, and how these flashy buildings would sometimes twist and turn in on themselves, and how they sometimes connected to other skyscrapers via bridges, almost as if they were trying to show off. It was even better at night when their surroundings were lit up and sparkling with an elegance that only the higher class possessed. 

Of course, the most magnificent structure of them all was Ubuyashiki Tower, looming above even the tallest skyscrapers in the city with intricate, impressive landscaping surrounding the perimeter- worthy of a mansion. Nobody had quite seen the inside yet, except for the subordinates and employees of Kagaya and Kagaya’s family themselves. 

And now here they were, going to see Kagaya Ubuyashiki in the flesh.

Tanjiro was pulled out of his nervous milling when he hears Nezuko wince in frustration, almost instinctively lifting her foot up to hold it before deciding against it. “Gods, what possessed me to wear these heels?” she groaned. From the facial expression her grimacing mouth twisted itself into, she appeared just about ready to kick off the torture devices people called shoes. A mischevious smirk arose to Tanjiro’s usually kind face, glinting in his scarlet red eyes.

“Perhaps your sweet onii-chan’s puppy eyes?” he proposed playfully. He received a scowl and a weak thud on the arm in response, to which he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit- his imouto-san was too adorable for her own good sometimes. “You’re lucky I love you, and that I want to look good for you.”

She then subconsciously tugs at her hair swept to the side in a thick braid, tied together with one of her pink ribbons. She nor Tanjiro had no particularly luxurious threads for unprecedented events like this, so she merely settled for a floral cotton dress that she stitched spacious pockets onto the skirt of, along with black heels that Tanjiro persuaded Nezuko to lend from Shinobu. “She had told me she grew to dislike them, anyways,” he had said to her. “Plus, you’ll look good.”

She was coming to heavily regret that decision.

Tanjiro had merely settled for an insanely tight blazer suit with satin lapels stitched on, conveniently a loaner from Zenitsu. He had made an effort to polish the shoes that came with it, which resulted in what he would call relative success. His stomach was breaststroking in nervous backflips when he tried his best to explain the situation to Zenitsu, yet nothing could’ve been done to prevent him from screaming and freaking out that one of the richest multibillionares in the world had requested to meet with them.

They eventually arrived from a brisk seven-minute walk to Murata standing on the sidewalk next to an elegant black limousine parked near the curb, its shining exterior glistening underneath the bright, late afternoon sun with a lustrous sheen like no other. “I’m so glad you could make it! We’re very happy to be hearing from you again so soon, and also incredibly pleased that you accepted the invitation!” he exclaimed with a sincere grin on his face.

Tanjiro nodded, nervously shuffling his feet. “We both figured that we shouldn’t keep THE Kagaya Ubuyashiki waiting… I’m sure he’s quite a busy man.”

“That he is, but the two of you must be of great importance to him if he wishes to make time for you!” Murata replied enthusiastically. “Well? Come on in, Mister and Miss Kamado. It is fairly a long ride, after all!”

Tanjiro and Nezuko awkwardly assemble in front of the car door, wanting to climb inside… only to scramble backwards in surprise back onto the sidewalk. The car doors appeared hinged at the roof, lifting themselves up and detaching from the sides and the bottom to rather dramatically reveal the luxuriously designed insides. “Falcon doors!?” Nezuko exclaimed, the corners of her mouth caught in a stupidly wide grin. “Seriously!?”

She immediately scrambled inside the car, Tanjiro following closely behind as he awkwardly clambered into the comparment behind his enthusiastic younger sister. One mere click of the screen on the dashboard from Murata and the doors were back down again. All of a sudden, this situation became slightly more claustrophobic for poor Tanjiro. He’s once again pulled out of his thoughts by Nezuko blissfully inhaling the air once the car pulled away from the curb, as once again he’s reminded to gingerly buckle the seatbelt in. “Ohhh, that new car smell is simply divine, brother. I must say, anyone of our position could get used to this kind of life of luxu- shit, is that a mini-fridge!?” she exclaimed, eagerly opening one of the compartments to reveal a series of fresh, tantalizing snacks and beverages inside.

“Ramune, ohagi, konpeito, sakuramochi, coffee jelly and then some more!” she squealed, counting the sweets inside the fridge with euphoric anticipation. “Brother, we’re feasting this afternoon!” she exclaimed before Tanjiro shook his head and sighed in exasperation. “Not so fast, Nezuko- remember what we came here for originally.”

“Ah, right, right.”

Murata turned around to the burgundy-haired boy. “No need to be so formal, Mister Kamado- please feel free to help yourself to any refreshments you like!” he offered generously. The amount of sincerity this young man had warmed Tanjiro’s heart.

“Oh, no- no, thank you, really, we’re just surprised that there’s- Nezuko!” he exclaimed with a horrified expression, jaw agape as he turned to his sister already unceremoniously popping heaps of konpeito in her mouth. “Whght?” she asks with her mouth full. The wide, innocent eyes she gives her brother never fails. “Ih jgst culdn’n rsghst!”

Tanjiro couldn’t help but internally facepalm.

I’m so dead when we get back home.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

After around 24 minutes and 43 seconds of driving, which Nezuko counted down to the last second as a part of fulfilling one of her subconscious habits, they finally arrived at the front of Ubayashiki Tower.

And holy hell, it was HUGE.

Merely the technical term of referring to it as a high-rise skyscraper complex couldn’t even begin to describe just how much of an architectural wonder it was- they could see why most people nicknamed it the Tower of Babylon. Just the base of the tower must be enough to house a mansion within. The architects must have seemingly flexed their prowess when they decided to make this skyscraper into sort of an hourglass shape- narrowing and twisting slightly towards the center, before gracefully spreading out back on top. Tanjiro tries to gague how high up it is but only ends up making himself dizzy. “Gods, my head is spinning… just how massive is this thing?” he mumbled, too gobsmacked to say anything else. Murata gave a smug grin, somewhat cheeky in nature.

“Just wait till you see the inside.”

The two couldn’t even fathom what the insides looked like- just the landscaping here was already beyond their wildest dreams, with the marble and gold statues reminiscent of distinctively ancient greek sculptures. Even the shrubbery, from the purest of white roses to the colossal sakura blossom and wisteria trees encircling the small zen fountains decorated with other miscellaneous, gorgeously placed plants- suddenly, knots began to form in their stomach.

“We literally have no business being in a place as magnificent as this,” Nezuko breathed, not even realizing that they were walking forward of their own accord until the glass doors swept open before them to reveal a palatial reception area, expansive in practically all directions- although it was spacious mostly horizontally, it had quite an impressive amount of vertical room to boot as well. 

Stepping out of the crowded streets into the silent and spacious chamber makes the two feel like their center of gravity shifted to their feet. They squinted up at the blindingly bright golden lights, the warm rays filtering through the glass windows illuminating their tingling skin and at least doing a bit to relieve their goosebumps. The freshly polished marble tiles beneath them was still spotless, and a complimentary blend of both modern and traditional Japanese furniture was decorating the area. Silk brocades of beautiful patterns lined with expensive gold- genuine, glimmering gold- was what made up the lavish sofas and lounges. Neat bookshelves and potted plants dotted some corners and areas, sitting on top of and near the tables. There was even a mini pool constructed entirely of bricks with small fountains and LEDs that changed color every couple of seconds- Nezuko barely held in a squeal of pure euphoria when she learned that small koi fish could be seen swimming in the water. 

There seemed to be swathes of people milling about the reception room, dressed in the same uniform of the black gakuran jacket and the hakama pants with the complimentary tabi socks, zori sandals and the sword neatly sheathed at their side to boot- Urokodaki, Makomo and Sabito all shared the same white tabi socks that their pants were neatly tucked into. Some chatter among the agents could be heard, as formal and as brisk as their movements, the clack of their shoes echoing throughout the vast area with every step they took.

“Imperative Class 5 mission… not of urgency, overall nature seems to be location and recovery…”

“We need the intercepted encrypted messages containing the malware and Black Propaganda translated ASAP, I need all deadlines posted to the teams by tomorrow… be sure to run security diagnostics on the central middle floors while you’re at it...”

“Three slayers have gone dark, last known location found in the geolocated coordinates of Beijing, China: longitude 39.9042 degrees North… latitude 116.4074 degrees East… I need proper equipment and tracking beacons stationed in this area...”

It was like hearing another language entirely different from the common tongue they spoke- Tanjiro and Nezuko could barely place a finger on the contextualization of their scattered conversations and miscellaneous musings. The sliding glass doors almost never seemed to close- agents were going in and out, walking out onto the pathway outside, or stepping foot inside. “Nezuko, what are they saying…?” Tanjiro whispered to himself almost unconsciously, surprised to hear an equally breathy and confused response from her.

“You think just because I’m smart that I know everything? Of course I don’t.”

Murata then casually guides the two awestruck teens to an elevator, placing his thumb on a small screen that seemed to resemble a ridiculously futuristic scanning interface. The thin white line blooming on the electronic shade of blue seemed to emanate a strange trilling noise before beeping twice in approval, the pristine and smooth steel doors opening to reveal the inside. Even the elevator was anything but ordinary- the sleek and futuristic appearance is a nice change of pace from the clunky and malfunctioning deathtraps that most elevators in their area of Osaka were, specifically in the apartments of the poorer provinces. Even the air conditioning was divine- serving perfectly to combat the sweltering heat of the afternoon.

Tanjiro chooses, against the more polite side of his personality, to cull a bit of information out of Murata.

“So, why exactly do you think the Kagaya Ubuyashiki has requested to meet with one of our standing?”

Murata gives a freespirited shrug. “I’m afraid the details of such a matter have not been disclosed to someone of my clearance. Our whole infrastructure is based on the hierarchy and compartamentalization of intelligence- this matter isn’t elaborated on for even Kinoe rank slayers with Clearance Level 10.”

“Ah… I see.” Suddenly the fabric draping Tanjiro’s skin becomes a bit itchier than usual, and he sucks in a sharp breath before releasing another shaky exhale. Murata seemed to take notice of the eyebrows on Tanjiro’s forehead creasing together and sighed. “No need to be nervous, Mister Kamado- we’re almost to the designated meeting point.”

Then, Tanjiro, like an idiot, smiles and lies through his teeth to cover up how much his stomach was twisting into knots: “I’m fine,” he reassures, though the words are empty and he knows it. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have pried.”

The moment they reach the top floor sooner than expected, they’re once again stunned into silence by the sheer majesty and formality of the room bustling with the people- the “slayers” that presumably worked here. The marble floor had a strange symbol carved into it, solidified further to the human eye with black paint that possessed no trace of being chipped or scratched at even once. Gorgeous potted plants were scattered about the room along the walls in an effort to make the room seem less imposing than it already was. Several white desks with monitors displaying fancy interfaces galore could be seen along with the uniformed officers crowding around them, typing away at the keyboards. The moment one noirette with a slightly tousled ponytail darted her eyes to them, the entire room followed suit and fell silent.

“Are those the two kids the Director wanted to personally meet with…?”

“I think so, Ozaki. They look so young and confused… are we sure that the Director made the right decision?”

“The girl looks quite intelligent… and the boy looks strong. I still have my doubts, but the Director must have high hopes for them. They both have the potential.”

The chatter did nothing to settle the questions that the siblings had, if it didn’t already pique their curiosity further.

...Director!? Okay, just what the hell is going on here!?

Murata motioned to a spacious open balcony, draped in shade courtesy of a luxurious pavilion, the clear glass and metal-rimmed fencing ending only where the chest began. Multiple bushels housing a colorful variety of flowers seemed to decorate the fencing. “This way, if you’d please.”

“Okay,” Tanjiro said, Nezuko following behind him but both of them turning their heads back around, checking over their shoulder to notice a particularly odd detail.

Why wasn’t Murata following them anymore?

“Uh… aren’t you coming?” Nezuko asked.

“I’m afraid this is where we part ways temporarily. Have a nice stay, Mister and Miss Kamado,” Murata stated, bowing before fleeing the scene before either of them can even remotely open their mouths, let alone protest or ask for an explanation.

Why.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sucking in a breath of the fresh, unfamiliar air of faint jasmine and pine, the two siblings began to wander forward, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat dribbling down the backs and sides of their necks. The few egg rolls in their stomach weren’t agreeing with them at the moment- and there couldnt’ve been a worse time when their organs refused to just simply cooperate.

The balcony pavilion was massive, with stone tiles and an actual hot tub built off to the side, enough to fit three people squeezed together in comfortably close proximity, the pleasantly blue pools glimmering and steaming like how the waters of a hot spring would. Tanjiro and Nezuko were still in awe at the wonderful architecture and gorgeous flowery plants galore.

“Gods… I would kill just for our family to live in a cupboard up here,” Nezuko breathed, fuschia eyes still widened and sparkling with childlike wonder. She kept walking forward, heels clacking against stone, not paying much attention to the sight in front of her until her nose planted itself in soft silk fabric, and her vision finally concentrated itself onto white overlapping a black satin blazer suit, to which she stumbled back in response only for her breath to find itself caught in her throat, all apologies instantly dying on her tongue.

A real life, honest-to-goodness Kagaya Ubuyashiki was in front of them.

And mere pictures couldn’t hold a candle to just how their stomach twisted with indecipherable tranquility in his presence.

They should’ve felt intimidated, should’ve felt the blood coursing through their veins run cold- yet instead, their quickening heartbeat calmed down with every steady, trembling inhale Tanjiro and Nezuko took in of the gentle scent of pine, the aura around them immediately entrancing them to focus on clouded eyes staring right back at them.

The man was of average height yet still slightly towered over the two kids, and donned a black collared shirt and pants held up by an authentic leather belt, as well as a white haori woven from exquisite and pricey silk brocades, judging from the simple yet stunning pink and purple flame pattern woven at the hem of the ridiculously expensive clothing article. A formal white tie dangled from the collar of his shirt, neatly tied around his neck with elegance and sophistication that Nezuko secretly envied. Black hair that trailed down to the lower neck just barely inched down to his shoulders, and otherwise flawless, pearly white skin was tainted by a purple curse mark that spread over his eyes, making it appear like the top half of his face was aflame and rotting off flake by flake. 

Yet perhaps the most notable feature of Kagaya Ubuyashiki was the corners of his mouth curled upwards into the barely perceptable hint of a smile- merely glancing to it sent a wave of serenity and a sensation of inner peace in the area.

And then he spoke, and his naturally pleasant and melodious voice instantly drew their attention.

“Welcome, Tanjiro Kamado and Nezuko Kamado. I can see you’ve recieved and accepted my invitation,” he inquired respectfully, bowing briefly to the two, even though there was really no reason to- lowly lifeforms such as them should be the one bowing to him. How on earth was he honored to be in their presence, like they were important people?

“Oh… oh!” Tanjiro exclaimed, snapping out of the daze he was initially put in. “I’m… thank you, Director- er, sir… I’m- honored… to be here,” he blurted out in an awkward string of words, swearing to himself that the corners of Kagaya’s smile could be seen faintly twitctching even further upwards in a sort of fond amusement, his serene white orbs gazing at them with a strange light of familiarity. It was almost as if the head of Ubayashiki Corporations hadn’t formally requested the presence of the eldest Kamado children, rather the three were merely old friends sitting down for a casual chat.

“Come now, there’s no need to exercise such formalities- relax, my children. Sit, make yourselves comfortable,” he proposes in that same voice that flowed like honey, gesturing to two nearby seats across from him. Even though they were significantly calmer than they were when they first walked into this architectural masterpiece, jitters still convulsed throughout Tanjiro’s and Nezuko’s body. Every nerve in their body was furiously pumping blood to their brain, as if storing a fight-or-flight reaction for later circumstances. Nevertheless, they tried to appear less frazzled than they were, which they were failing miserably at.

“Alright then,” Tanjiro stated in that usually exuberant tone of his, back upright tighter than a bowstring. Nezuko, awkwardly shifting the skirt of her dress in her chair, willed her gaze to flick back up to Kagaya, who was still smiling silently at them as he passed them piping hot tea individually poured into exquisite, ornate cups intricately decorated with Japanese designs- most likely antique. The blend faintly smelled of a particularly watered down sencha green tea, barely just infused with a sprinkling of matcha powder.

The calming scenery and smells don’t prevent them from sitting a little straighter. “So, what did you want to discuss?” Nezuko asked, trying her best to look ahead across the decently sized rectangular table, conveniently supplied with a small deckered platter piled copiously with miniature confectioneries, as well as a tea set for three. “I wanted to meet with you at a better time, but dire situations warrant immediate action,” Kagaya explained, a grim look on his face which immediately made the hairs on the back of Tanjiro’s neck stand up. Nezuko merely leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow, curiosity evidently piqued as Kagaya continued speaking. “I will try to explain the situation as best as I can to the both of you, so that you may understand exactly what I intend on doing to counter this demon threat.”

Tanjiro’s eyes widened. “You’re…!? But…!” he protested before Kagaya held out a hand to stop him from speaking any further. “I know- my current condition renders me physically unable to fight the threat out on the frontlines- your concerns are perfectly valid, but that is what the slayers under my command are for, no?” he asks, the placid smile returning to his face one more.

Oh.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place as multiple suscpicions were confirmed in simultaneous succession- the swords, the computers, the uniformed agents filtering in and out of the building and bustling about around them… even the fact that Ubayashiki Corporations wasn’t exactly a private organization.

“The whole company thing was utilized as an improvised front,” Kagaya explained. “My actual title… is to be the director of a government-initiated division meant to counter the global demon phenomenon that threatens mankind with extinction- specifically initiated by the security, defense and logistics divisions.”

Tanjiro and Nezuko knew what he meant by mankind’s extinction- thousands of innocents slaughtered needlessly, victims to an insatiable appetite. Yet what surprised them more was that the government had decided to actually do something about it instead of sitting back and watching their own people become devoured and torn apart.

“Aha! So you are actually one of the scary men in black suits!” Nezuko exclaimed, pointing an almost accusatory finger at Kagaya, to which Tanjiro made a strangled cry of sorts, clearly startled. 

“Nezuko!” he hissed, harshly elbowing his little sister in the arm. However, Kagaya merely chuckled upon witnessing their petty bickering. “You are partially right about that. I am a particularly high ranking individual in the security division of the japanese government- I don’t have my lineage tracing back to a family of wealthy nobles for nothing, after all,” he joked before his collected demeanor immediately dropped to a deathly serious expression. “However, that is not what I have contacted you for. We are running dangerously low on frontline slayers, and since this threat is happening globally, we’re spreading ourselves thin. Every day, more and more operatives stationed around the world are being reported killed or compromised,” he explained, grimacing as though the words induced utter digsust. He then pensively placed his hands in his lap, his eyes flicking down to his lap.

“Since then, I have concluded a bitter truth- there are more demons than those willing to fight them. We need more manpower to support our current operatives…” he stated before hesitating, noticing the crease in Tanjiro’s brows and the protective gaze he flashed his sister- they were still as attentive as ever. “However, I will never be the man to use intrepid innocents as canon fodder to our enemies- I am looking for individuals with promise, with a credible history and a potential to not only serve the greater good, but defend humanity and ensure the safety and welfare of generations to come… which led me to you.”

Eh?

The flabbergasted appearance on the siblings’s faces only made it harder for the normally composed man to suppress even more laughter- although they thought there was no need, his voice was the textbook definition of euphonious. “Of course- I have already achieved a part of this goal of recruiting two particularly gifted warriors into our organization… they are the rightful successors of elite swordsmen, the best of the best,” Kagaya admitted. Tanjiro and Nezuko assumed that Kagaya Ubayashiki was referring to Sabito and Makomo when the keywords of ‘gifted warriors’ and ‘elite swordsmen’ reached their ears.

So it was no surprise that their jaws dropped even further from their mouths in awe when a uniformed middle schooler and their frequently-absent civics teacher walked up to them, weapons sheathed neatly at their sides.

“H-Himejima-sensei and Tokito-kun!” Tanjiro exclaimed. “You work here?” he asked in a breathy whisper, to which he received the boy’s bored mint green eyes glaring back at his own.

���Well, first of all, that’s ‘Tokito-senpai’ to you, before you give me the ‘I’m still in middle school’ crap,” the shorter and younger slayer sassed. “Secondly, does it look like I have anything better to do with my life?” he demanded before the other giant beside him, practically towering over everyone, shot him a dissaproving look in his general direction with a whited out and blind gaze as best as he could. “Muichiro.”

“What, Gyomei?” Muichiro commented defensively, spreading his arms before letting them fall limp at his sides once more. “Am I right or am I right?” he asked, earning a sigh of defeat from his colleague. Gyomei proceeded to flash an apologetic smile at Tanjiro and Nezuko, patience wearing slightly thin from the younger’s antics. “Forgive him- he’s a bit antsier than usual today,” he said before turning to Kagaya. “Director, would it be appropriate for us to assist in explaining the situation to our guests?” he asked politely, to which his superior merely gave a nod of confirmation and smiled. “Permission granted.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Long ago, the sun goddess, Amaterasu, retreated into a cave, plunging the world into eternal darkness. Monsters and malevolent spirits ran rampant in the dark, hungering endlessly for blood, and it was a time of chaos and bloodshed for humanity as our home was overrun with disorder, the smell of rotting corpses and bloodcurdling screams tragically common. Desperate to prevent the early extinction of humanity, Ame-no-Uzume, the goddess of reverlry and dawn, danced tirelessly in the darkness as an act of devotion, pleading for the sun goddess to come out. Thankfully, she reluctantly agreed, thus starting the cycle of night and day in our world. From these events, the ritualistic dances that honored our gods were birthed in the form of Kaguras, which the people would perform in organized segments from dusk till dawn tirelessly to ward of threats and diseases, and to pray for a bountiful harvest and good luck in the coming of the new year.

The oni first came into existence in the Heian Era of Japan, when the gods of old had been forgotten, and people bustled about the streets amidst their own daily lives. A wicked being, darkness and malice incarnate who was condensed into the flesh of a sickly human, came into contact with a lily with mystical properties. The lily grew in scarcity, so when he consumed the herb, frightening power enough to topple empires fell into his hands: he had become the first oni, the progenitor of demons. Yet there was one flaw in the nigh-invincible being he had become- sunlight. When the demon glimpsed the first rays of dawn, the dew shriveling up into nothingness underneath the morning, the coward retreated into the shadows because he knew he would end up similarly- burned and shunned by dawnlight, the mother of humanity and one of the many specks of starlight in the universe- our rightful home. Furthermore, the sheer strength that his body strained to contain required sustenance- more specifically, humans. The monster had no qualms about slaughtering his own family- many had fallen victim to his grisly appetite. In order to achieve his twisted perception of perfection, he began his tireless search for the blue spider lily so he could walk under the sunlight once more.

The man’s name was Muzan Kibutsuji, King of Demons. Both humanity and the gods foresaw the destruction of the world underneath his heel if nothing were to be done. And thus, a group of humans, particularly trained samurai, were assembled to defend humanity and to put an end to the existence of the demon race.

Amaterasu’s champion, Yoriichi Tsugikuni, was a gifted swordsman of the Sengoku Era, and the progenitor of the breathing styles- specialized forms of swordsmanship created to slay demons by specifically utilizing the potential of the human body to the fullest extent, maximizing blood flow and oxygen intake in a unique way to grant humans superhuman abilities previously unavailable to them. However, his personal creation, Sun Breathing, was unable to be performed by many other gifted samurai that he worked alongside due to their lack of skill and present weaknesses. 

This caused Yoriichi great internal tumult, for he was having a harder and harder time finding a worthy successor capable of inheriting Sun Breathing. On the brighter side of the situation, many of the slayers improvised, and many breathing forms were created- such as Water Breathing, Thunder Breathing, Flame Breathing, Wind Breathing, Stone Breathing, et cetera. And out of those styles came more breathing forms personally cultivated by more gifted swordsmen to suit the needs of their body, such as Flower, Mist and Beast Breathing, and more. 

For generations upon generations, our kind have existed in the shadows, battling with demons whilst the rest of the world remained none the wiser to the threat we were defending them from. It would always end the same- the moment we think we had victory within our grasp, Kibutsuji would retreat into the shadows once more and flee like a coward- it would always end two minutes to dawn. Years of hard work, intel gathering and planning- countless lives sacrificed, only for it all to be for naught. Multiple times the Demon Slayer Corps have failed, time and time again, and nearly disbanded in the Taisho Era due to the number of crippling losses suffered at the hands of demonkind, the breathing styles disguised as kaguras to prevent the deaths of the ones who could defeat Kibutsuji.

But from today… that changes. With this generation, this madness ends here.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Nezuko raised her hand, snapping Tanjiro out of the intrigued state he was in. “That’s a wonderful story that I can use to put my rowdy younger siblings to sleep, but just exactly what does this have to do with us?” she asked, glancing to her brother gingerly sipping a cup of tea.

“With the past events that Gyomei recounted in mind… the Kamado family remains the only worthy successor to Sun Breathing, and the eldest son remains next in line to inherit the Kagura- which, as of now, is you, Tanjiro,” Kagaya finishes, promptly received by an unceremonious spray of tea to the face.

Tanjiro coughed hard into his fist, tears welling up behind his eyes and blurring his vision, not noticing the exasperated sigh Gyomei lets out, or the hardened stare of Muichiro’s eyes boring into his soul- all he saw in his peripheral vision was stars as his throat burned up from the inside out, hot tea still dribbling down his lips which he struggled to wipe with a nearby napkin that he clumsily fumbled for.

Nezuko flashed a nervous smile at Kagaya in response, flashing a sideways glare at her brother. “This is the most secondhand embarrassment you have ever given me in my life so far,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“I-I’m sorry, sir- I-” -his sentence was interrupted by a rather awkward series of gargled hiccups and coughs- “-think I misheard you?” Tanjiro asks. “Hinokami Kagura and… Sun Breathing? W-With all due respect, there’s no way we can possibly be the descendant of a legendary swordsma- oh. Oh.”

“Now you realize, don’t you?” Muichiro asked. “They’re the same thing- but you wouldn’t know that, since the almighty Yoriichi Tsugikuni has a successor who spits hot tea into other people’s faces.”

Nezuko’s eyes narrowed into slits, teeth bared in rage. “Well of course he knows they’re the same thing, just because we’re poor doesn’t mean we’re illiterate- he’s just in shock because you’re just telling us about this whole global operation and swordsman-successor-conundrum you’ve got going on literally right now. How were we supposed to know my nii-san was the successor to some Sengoku superhero without the breadcrumbs you didn’t drop till now, dipshit?” she demanded, assuming a suddenly protective stance over her brother.

“Try me, smartass.”

“Meet me downstairs then, Junior. I’ll ruin you for insulting my brother’s name.”

“Children, children, let’s all calm down and take a deep breath,” Kagaya spoke in that melodious tone of his that instantly dispelled the tension in the atmosphere. He was already wiping off the tea in the dictated, methodical manner of his with a pocket handkerchief, proceeding to then sip from his own cup like this was the most normal thing in the world. “There’s no need to fight- our point is that being the carriers of powerful swordsmanship techniques is one of the things that make you and your friends crucial to our plan.”

Nezuko adjusted the position in her seat and raised an eyebrow, muscles still a tad too tense, to which Muichiro merely scoffed silently and turned his head in response. “Oh? And what would the other thing be?” she asked tersely, a glint of dubiousness in her eyes.

Needless to say, she was pleasantly surprised when Kagaya pointed a finger at her. “You.”

Her? What was so special about her?

Gyomei merely raised an eyebrow in response to the facial expression she made, as if he knew, word for word, the question she was about to ask. “You do realize you’re proven by statistics to have an intelligence quotient of 183, right? Which essentially means you’re the smartest in the country, and quite possibly one of the most brilliant minds of our world. You’re essentially an invaluable and irreplaceable resource to everyone that knows of your talents and brilliance- I’ve seen your talent and hard work firsthand every day at the school.”

It was Tanjiro’s turn to choke on tea once again, struggling to not drop the cup because it was probably worth three month’s rent. Nezuko, however, didn’t look as fazed as her poor brother.

“Ah- I mean, if statistics prove it, then I believe it. Words can be manipulated and easily bent to other people’s wills- incidents can be sugercoated and memories can be altered through rewording. Numbers are more trustworthy, not to mention badass- especially ones and zeroes. I love ones and zeroes, the foundation of our existence today,” Nezuko confidently declared, leaning back into her chair and flashing that signature smug smirk of hers. 

Muichiro sighed. “Not only that- I’ve been to the Kamado family residence multiple times, I saw the stuff scattered about your room- uniquely designed computer chips from 1973 or 1981, salvaged from a nearby landfill and adjusted in ways that words fail to explain. Several hackathon trophies and other smuggled miscellaneous items you somehow melted down and incorporated into devices- like Obanai’s steel and silicone leftovers, on top of the prize money from said hackathons you kept hoarded in a secret compartment in the room,” he supplied with an exasperated glare, to which Nezuko chuckled sheepishly. 

“Ah… hehe, I mean… it is my dream to go to Kasugai University, after all…! Education won’t pay for itself, ahaha…!”

“Save your nervous stuttering for later- point is, even famous scientists and universities haven’t been able to replicate your level of eruditeness- hell, I mean, you managed to design an entire hyperintelligent AU assistant housed inside an INTERFACE utilizing the Internet better than even Siri or Google can?” Muichiro demands, spreading his arms. 

“You’re also the only person in high school who’s taking all advanced STEM courses- and passing all of them with A’s, the only difficulty being the absurd amount of coursework. Our best engineers are already struggling with designing a prototype of a training simulation within a deadline of six years, and here you are completing a personal project on that in five months? Of course you’re going to be a target of significant value to literally everyone- not even a price tag can be placed on your head.”

The full gravity of the situation began to sink in with every word the shorter boy spoke. “Oh…” was all Nezuko could respond with by the time the normally indifferent, forgetful middle schooler had finished his unusually passionate rant.

Kagaya nodded in agreement, taking the final sip of his tea before gently placing his cup down on one of the saucers. “We have been observing you and your technological endeavors for quite some time now, which includes your personal projects. Forgive us for so carelessly taking such liberties,” he confessed rather bluntly. “We are now supplied with the information that you are essentially a child prodigy, exceptionally skilled beyond our wildest expectations in mathematics, engineering, aerospace, physics, computer science and chemistry, among a vast plethora of other STEM fields. You can do mind math for arithmetic and basic algebra in a matter of mere seconds,” he explained, to which Tanjiro lets out a small groan.

“Yeah- Kami-sama essentially set my sister up to be a human supercomputer.”

Gyomei further continued the outlandish story that the two siblings could barley keep up with processing. “You two, as well as your friends, are high-value bounties for demons. Why exactly do you think, back at the warehouse three weeks ago, the demons ambushed you at precisely the time you arrived? To retrieve the 1-1-0?”

Ice practically shot up their legs upon the stark realization blaring in their minds like a foghorn. 

They came for them.

“And with all that in mind…” Kagaya interjected with finality gradually sliding into his tone, sliding the two siblings a disk of silicone lined with silver in various places. A hologram bearing the Demon Slayer Corps logo popped up, seemingly fabricating itself into existence out of thin air, the hypnotizing blue glow illuminating the awe on Tanjiro’s and Nezuko’s faces- childlike and wondrous as they were thrust into a world so foreign, and yet so familiar.

“It is with my greatest honor that I introduce to you… the Demon Slayer Corps Initiative.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tanjiro was utterly shocked by this revelation sugercoated in heaps of words, to say the least. So was Nezuko.

A million thoughts were running through their head, screaming and shrieking and protesting from within in a multitude of a thousand more voices and chaos- it was a struggle to silence them, one that they lost.

The Demon Slayer Corps Initiative.

“Considering that we could not save our own multiple times, we have no right to ask this of you… you have your own demons to fight, your own family to take care of. However, we are next to powerless powerless now, and the time has come for us to come together and turn the tide of the war in humanity’s favor,” Kagaya pleaded gently, and suddenly, saying no seemed like an impossible task- all on a logical, ethical and emotional level.

How long would it be before demons would come after their family?

Before they could even ponder over such words, a default, haphazardly-formed response spilled from Tanjiro’s mouth: “I don’t know… we need some time to think over this- y’know, evaluate the risks and rewards, make a plan for if we do agree… this is not a decision to be taken lightly in any manner, after all!” he said, hacking out a dry, humorless laugh. Nezuko could merely nod in response, which she hated- hated the way her mouth refused to speak its own mind.

The disjointed apologies they mumbled were still received well by Kagaya, who they decided to themselves might as well be the most damn patient person alive so far, taking into account the amount of trouble they had given both him and the Demon Slayer Corps. 

They were immediately grounded back to reality once more by Kagaya turning his head to Muichiro and Gyomei. “Tokito, Himejima, may you escort them home and pay them occasional visits until they make their decision? Of course, the invitation I extended to them is open, after all- they’re always welcome here whenever they please.”

They’re VIP guests now?

Tanjiro spat out another string of incoherent and nervous word vomit simultaneously with Nezuko, the recollection of the past hour and a half still freshly emblazoned into their mind.

“Er- no, no, it’s… fine, sir… we’ll be heading home now. Should we… spread the word to our friends while we’re at it?” they asked, to which Kagaya chuckled lightly in reply.

“The decision to join is also accompanied by the decision to speak of this meeting to your companions. Let your heart and mind work as one to guide you, my children. It will do wonders for you.”

Before they knew it, they were descending in the spacious, futuristic elevator once more, Gyomei’s head just barely touching the roof of the small compartment that Nezuko, Tanjiro and Muichiro were squeezed in between, still remembering the goodbyes they mumbled before stepping back inside away from the sun. The awkward silence settling thick and tense into the air didn’t help the situation either, as Gyomei huffed out an embarrassed sigh, sounding ashamed of himself.

“I… apologize for the lack of room I’m providing at the moment,” the white-eyed man mumbled, his hands still locked together in prayer whilst still displaying the ojuzu beads wrapped around his palms and arms. “However, I am utmostly truthful when I make the proclamation that you two should consider the offer- and it would be tremendously beneficial of you to accept it. You two have much talent and potential to become something more than you already are, as all humans are- and from what I’ve observed from my time as your civics and homeroom teacher, your friends are also quite formidable.”

Tanjiro didn’t know if he hated the bigger man’s sincerity or desperately wanted to accept it- no matter what, his parents, his siblings, and especially his sweet little sister Nezuko mattered more than duty, more than potential, more than anything else in the entire universe and beyond- raw, primal fear pulsated through him at the thought of losing her and their family to the malevolent forces that now plagued their world. “This is absolutely crazy…” he murmurs to no one in particular, leaning back against the walls made entirely of pristine glass lined with equally stainless steel. Reaching out to meet Nezuko’s equally nervous eyes, he grabs her hand as though it’s entirely out of reflex, their fingers interlocking and their gazes communicating paragraphs that no amount of words could summarize. They purse their lips and scoot closer together, their grip tightening as if they were afraid to let go- displaying a forever tightly knit bond that only siblings could share.

That should give them enough time to wake up from this fever dream, right?

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Three weeks passed. No words or conversation exchanged between the both of them, nor to their friends. Zenitsu, Inosuke and Kanao, ever perceptive and ever observant Kanao, immediately knew something was wrong- they knew their friends like they knew their own minds.

Tanjiro and Nezuko remained silent, throwing themselves into their activities and daily lives to avoid thinking about what Kagaya had revealed to them. 

Children of the sun, champions of man, ever grit your teeth and continue to burn bright. 

Amidst the chatter of the densely populated halls of Kimetsu Academy, no one seemed to notice how the unnerving sounds of clanking and whirring grew substantially in frequency after hours, during cleaning time. No one seemed to notice how Nezuko paid more visits to Obanai’s classrooms than usual, and how she would seldom not come out with a plastic bag overflowing with carefully engineered metal gadgets of unique design and even more expert craftsmanship. 

The descent into darkness shall never be easy for even the most courageous- steel clashes with flesh underneath the dusken yawn of heaven’s black.

No one seemed to pay any mind to how Tanjiro seemed more “fake cheerful” than usual, or frequently chatted with Sakonji Urokodaki, as well as the school janitor’s adopted grandchildren, Sabito and Makomo. No one seemed to care how Tanjiro became increasingly tight-lipped around Giyuu, who was basically the two’s childhood friend and like a surrogate distant brother to them.

Press onward and persevere- shine down hope upon the desolate land once again.

Rise, children of the sun- the brightest of the stars.

And Tanjiro and Nezuko themselves seemed to try their best to pay no mind to how incoherent whispers seemed to worm their way into their ears, until they were never alone with tranquil minds ever again- and almost immediately, they knew it was their subconscious trying to convince them that they couldn’t run from this decision forever.

Or perhaps their minds were never tranquil to begin with- the chaos ever present, swirling inside- and they were trying to pretend that they could… that everything used to be fine and was fine. Whatever ‘fine’ meant.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Three more weeks passed. The current time was 12:32 in the morning, judging by the glaring red lights intricately shaped into numbers displaying the time on the nightstand’s digital clock: the clock sitting next to Tanjiro’s and Nezuko’s beds. The nightstand still sat silently in the middle of the room, backed up against the wall underneath the window sheltering them from the tumultuous rumbling of the thunderstorm outside.

All was not completely silent- the rage of lightning spider-webbing with violent, ephermal flashes streaking across the sky in their white glow was accompanied by the furious pattering of the relentless rain coming in torrential downpours. The environment was far from silent, in fact- every rumble of the ground and every howl of the wind pulsated through the body and rattled both muscle and bone in kind. The wrath of Mother Nature outside was the only thing filling the void without conversation as the two siblings anxiously held their breath, accompanied by the occasional boom of the rolling thunder and the frightened yip that followed shortly thereafter- nobody dared speak, yet nobody dared sleep either.

“The clicks of adult sperm whales are measured at around 200 decibels, whereas thunder averages around 120 decibels in close proximity to a lightning ground stroke,” Nezuko finally mumbled after what felt like an eternity of agonizing silence- her voice sounded strained, yet not the slightest bit drowsy.

Tanjiro gave a light sigh of exasperation before giving a nod. “Uh-huh, glad to know I’m not going deaf up in this little attic-slash-bedroom for the older kids,” he mused dryly.

It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.

More uncomfortable silence filled the void before an interjection from Nezuko piped out among the darkness they were enveloped in, earning a strangled, mostly silent yelp out of Tanjiro: “Equilateral… Isoceles… Scalene…”

Gods- some people are trying to sleep, here!

“Tetrahedron… dodecahedron… ellipsoid…”

Tanjiro couldn’t help the words that came out of his mouth after Nezuko had begun to open hers to notice more shapes: “I’d prefer it if you sung me a lullaby and didn’t count three-dimensional shapes instead to calm my nerves.”

Even more seconds stretched out into a seemingly infinite eternity until numbers began to form themselves on Nezuko’s lips again, weaving themselves into her voice like it was second nature all the way from her impeccable eye for detail. “Four… prime… six, prime… eight, nine, ten, prime…”

The rustling of cheap and sweat-drenched fabric could be heard before Tanjiro’s eyes met Nezuko’s. “Would it kill you to let others sleep? Not everyone’s scared of thunderstorms,” he scolded before his scowl slowly cracked into a slight grin. “Okay, okay- maybe you might be, and that’s probably why you’re Takeo’s finest laughingstock.”

Nezuko rolled over in response, propping her arms up and sitting up in bed, half-buried underneath the quilt blanket that their mother stitched with their own hands. “What with Mother Nature on her period and taking a massive piss on our planet, I don’t think I can sleep at this hour, thank you very much,” she replied, rolling her eyes- her brutal honesty was something Tanjiro always appreciated every once in a while to counter his habit of sugercoating everything and being too kind to speak in a simple manner, courtesy of the tendency to mask. 

Her eyes then shifted to the scattered papers, gadgets, and other miscellaneous objects placed haphazardly atop their tables and across their floor- most of the papers were messily sketched blueprints and mathematical equations scribbled off to the side- Nezuko was always uncoordinated and rather unorganized when it came to her scientific endeavors, especially for research and engineering purposes- Tanjiro always found that, along with everything else about his sister, quite endearing.

Nezuko was one in a million- out of all the little sisters he could have had, he found her, and she found him- having a brilliant and unique scientist of a sister who was also quite the looker was considered in his own right to be a substantial advantage.

He was, still is, and would always be proud to have family like her.

“What say we kill some time and warm ourselves up downstairs? Because Kami-sama, it is windy as hell up here- thunderstorm or not, I don’t think I’d be able to sleep without a heat conditioner on nights like these,” Nezuko suggested, practically slithering out of her bed before gaining some semblance of a footing on the frigid wooden floor beneath her.

Tanjiro had to agree with her- they weren’t barely scraping by- far from it, in fact, but they were still lower middle class, and a heat conditioner was beyond what they could afford. Furthermore, the more he felt the cold of the drafty air seeping in and climbing up his legs like the winter’s ice, the more he simply sighed and internally ridiculed the whole situation in the first place- it was nearing summer vacation, for God’s sake- why on earth would summer midnights be this rainy and damp, not to mention cold and utterly miserable?

Ah, whatever. Better to go downstairs now, he thought- if the roof blew off, at least they wouldn’t go flying along with it.

The two eldest children were careful not to yawn a tad too loud, or to let the fourth or seventh wooden steps creak too boisteriously, lest they wanted their younger siblings downstairs with them not a moment sooner.

After all, wild nights like this were unknowingly their glory, whether Tanjiro and Nezuko liked it or not.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Nezuko was still counting numbers under her breath.

Well, numbers would be a poor way to accurately describe it- mathematical sequences were more the correct term for her incoherent, mumbled out ramblings that remained dialed down to a hushed, throaty whisper: “Twice one is one… twice two is four, twice three is six… twice four is eight…”

Tanjiro quirked an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t twice three and four be nine and sixteen, respectively?” he inquired, to which Nezuko shook her head dissaprovingly, peering further into the cabinets. “It’s easy to get them confused,” she replied, her diction cleaner, clearer and more sophisticated than most fifteen year olds. “The conditionals you stated were three squared and four squared, respectively. ‘Twice’ and squared in terms of existing mathematical nomenclature utilized for common educational purposes aren’t necessarily the same thing- but disregard the rules of the cultural dictionary entirely and you wouldn’t be wrong.”

Her speech was always perplexing, whether it be obscure or plain. It was what made her unique- because just like that, after speaking insightful words of her expansive intelligence and curiosity, her desire that hungered for knowledge and growth and the ability to learn- she would immediately revert back to common tongue just for the sake of speaking random sentences.

“In the outdated fridge that smells astronomically atrocious, we have… some leftover umeboshi onigiri… some expired kompeito bags from Shinobu’s birthday… some tonkatsu sauce, some mayonnaise, some packaged mochi dough, all gifted by Kanao… aaaand… the standard groceries- eggs, fish, chicken, potatoes, milk, vegetables, fruits- y’know, everyday stuff,” Nezuko observed, and Tanjiro smiled to himself and nearly heaved out a sigh of relief- at least they weren’t poor enough to go broke upon one grocery trip. “We even bought cheese and fatsia sprouts at a discount… your favorite,” she teased, pinching his nose playfully and retracting her arm before her older brother could smack it away. 

“Should we heat up the onigiri and milk?” Tanjiro asked, before answering his own question: “It wouldn’t hurt. As long as it doesn’t make too much noise for our siblings to hear and come down.”

He had only realized now that they hadn’t shared a heartwarming moment like this together with his younger sister in almost two months- and only now did he realize that two months felt like forever.

Nezuko smiled and raised her arms in a gesture of submission. “Okay. You’re the boss, nii-san.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hanako and Shigeru were fraternal twins that looked identical, the only difference being in gender, and Takeo was the middle child. Rokuta was the youngest, only being four years old, whilst Nezuko and Tanjiro shouldered the responsibilities of the eldest son and daughter on their backs. For Nezuko, it was a strange limbo- to have to shoulder responsibility, yet being babied all the time by Tanjiro- she felt like that tradition would continue no matter how old she became- old habits die hard, after all.

There was a side of her that was strong-willed, strict, motherly and independent- a side of her that took pride in the prodigious girl that she was, knowing that she had every right to be self assured and beautiful in her own unique and weirdly wonderful ways. Yet there was another side that acted like a spoiled, doe-eyed child in front of Tanjiro and her parents- the side that reminded her of her vulnerabilities and guilty pleasures, most of which she took in the joys of life, much to her shame and own internalized embarrassment. She hated the vulnerable side of her… until it reminded her that love was anything but an empty, meaningless word. That she, especially from Tanjiro, deserved love.

Until it reminded her that she deserved to be loved despite everything, and that her friends and family do love her very, very much.

That was why her beloved nii-san heated up onigiri and milk for her after all, while she leaned rather lazily on the couch completing Calculus homework because she had nothing better to do in the meantime.

So they could eat and talk together, even if it was one in the morning and they should’ve been sleeping.

Because she loved her nii-san and he loved his imouto to the ends of the universe and back.

The warmth and golden, gentle glow of the kitchen light had since healed their attic bedroom fears and thawed their clammy, frigid skin that once trembled. The room smelled of freshly boiled fatsia and melted cheese- an aroma almost enough to make Tanjiro’s tongue salivate inside his mouth. He wanted to throw himself towards Nezuko in gratitude- he could’ve made it himself, yet it was one of the only dishes Nezuko could cook (the other two being scrambled eggs and cold picnic sandwiches, mostly consisting of leftover tuna and cabbage). She had steadily taught herself how to make it through trial and error, and through pouring her blood, sweat, tears- and most of all, her love and care into the ridiculously simple dish made Tanjiro sigh in contentment with every breath he took in of the scent. The fact that she made it was enough to warm him up from the inside out.

Looking to the counter to see a plate piled with neatly arranged, fragrant and tantalizingly green boiled fatsia sprouts sprinkled copiously with bubbling, melted cheese could only serve to feed his happiness.

“Be sure to check the milk boiling on the stove,” Nezuko warned, eyes narrowing slightly. “As much as we both forget things, we both know that we don’t like it with any skin on top.”

“Have I ever told you that I’d be hopeless without you?” Tanjiro asked, taking the steaming onigiri out of the microwave and turning down the heat on the stove where the milk was boiling in a saucepan, thick, white and creamy, filling the room with a comforting scent that the two had never been more excited to devour. Nezuko once more peeked up from the small blue spiral-bound notebook she was writing in, multiple loose-leaf papers irregularly stapled to the notebook pages. “I beg to differ. You’re the oldest son,” she replied, simple and terse.

And yet again, she can’t help being the oldest daughter more than him the oldest son.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Tanjiro and Nezuko sat and ate in silence for the first few minutes, the comforting atmosphere gave them some time to survey their kitchen. Colorful geraniums bloomed on the windowsills of their old, yet somewhat urban home down in the poorer districts of Osaka, and inside the comfort of their kitchen, the alit and crackling hearth purred and thrummed with a protective radiance that emanated safety, warmth and energy- almost like a sleeping beast. A bouquet of red-and-yellow streaked tulips tucked neatly inside a glass vase sat on the kitchen table, the decoration courtesy of a gift from Kanao who politely denied any repayment in return for her generosity. The curtains- a comforting shade of magenta with plum blossom patterns meticulously stitched onto them, were drawn open, reminding the residents of the kitchen that they were safe, warm and alone from the dark.

Perhaps the most comforting detail Tanjiro observed was that the mountain of paperwork and overdue bills that was previously present on the kitchen table had vanished without a trace.

“In all honesty,” Nezuko starts saying to no one in particular, her mouth full of chewed up onigiri. Tanjiro was about to tell her to eat with her mouth closed before she spoke her next sentence, catching him off guard: “The opportunity that Director Ubuyashiki has provided us is a golden one.”

Tanjiro forced his fatsia sprouts and melted cheese down in a hurried swallow before flashing a glare at Nezuko. “Please don’t make me choke on my food next time, maybe?” he asked, red eyes simmering with slight annoyance.

“No, seriously, nii-chan!” Nezuko exclaimed, swallowing her food before getting up out of her seat. “I’m not one to believe in prophecies or succession or whatever- modern problems require modern solutions. Think about it from this perspective- you said I could utilize my talents to the best of my abilities to help the world and better society, and not to use it for selfish purposes. This it it, Tanjiro! This is what I have been waiting for!” she whisper-yelled, spreading her arms. Tanjiro appreciated that despite her stubbornness and enthusiasm, she was careful not to wake up their younger siblings still slumbering upstairs. 

“I know, but I’m more concerned for your safety than anything else- I mean, c’mon, slaying demons? Don’t you think that this request being asked of us and our friends is a bit much?” he asked. “Demons, with incredible strength beyond our understanding? Demons, who eat humans? Nezuko, you and I are human, very much so, in case you’ve forgotten already!”

He already knew what his imouto was going to say- “Ah, but nothing is forever beyond our understanding!”

Give me a break.

“Humans,” Nezuko supplied with a knowing look, bright pink eyes aflame and burning with a fierce resolve that could make anyone shiver upon glimpsing it: “Tanjiro, you of all people are to be known as an uncharacteristic optimist- I know you’re concerned about me, but you of all people should know the gravity of this situation, and I don’t know about you, but I am delivering my expertise to whomever may need it whenever necessary. Himejima-sama and Muichiro, our teacher and a middle schooler, are fighting on the frontlines alone, with slayers ready to risk their lives for the cause of humanity. And now what, we’re supposed to let it go!?” she asked incredulously- clearly she wasn’t going to let this go herself.

“Kamado Nezuko, do you have any idea what you are sayi-”

“What happened to the too-kind boy that my brother is!?” Nezuko hissed, abruptly cutting Tanjiro off. “What happened to the charitable, humanity-loving soldier that would march to war to protect his family? Slaughter is happening as we speak- everything we’ve ever known and loved is at stake here! How long must we stay and sit around and do nothing? How long will it be before they come after our family, huh!?” she exclaimed a bit too loudly before her eyes filled with tears and her voice, now barely audible, began to break, her lip quivering.

“H-how long will it be... before they come after you?”

From the moment his crimson eyes met gentle pink ones on the day Nezuko was born, that was all it took for him to fall in love with everything about her. He swore he would protect and care for her and spoil her rotten, treat her better than an older sibling could ever treat their younger siblings- sure, he dearly loved his other siblings, but Nezuko and Tanjiro were connected in a way that they couldn’t quite describe, even today.

And as Tanjiro locked Nezuko into a tight, comforting embrace with her clutching onto the fabric of his shirt, both of them afraid to let go, he affirmed the vows he made when he first saw his baby sister blink her eyes open and take her first breath of life.

The heavens would have to collide into the earth and hell would have to freeze over before he’d let his sister out of his sight, his safety, his arms.

The sky would have to fall before his beloved baby sister would have to cry.

This was about her, but also more than her- this was about saving the earth, saving mankind to ensure not just a brighter tomorrow, but that the people would get to see tomorrow in the first place.

And in a solemn promise, finalizing their decision, their pinkies intertwined in a tight knit bond.

“We can do anything if we work together, okay?” Nezuko asked, her grip tightening. “You and me. Together. Whatever it takes.”

Tanjiro nodded solemnly.

“Whatever it takes.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Zenitsu Agatsuma was not expecting to be awakened from his slumber to his phone exploding at ten in the morning. Groaning and feeling the joints in his back crackle and pop as he snapped them into place, he willed himself to roll to the other side and fumble for his phone, still vibrating and ringing in that infuriating manner. Pale golden eyes, tired and dry, squinted at the blindingly bright screen he held in his hand, the light nearly as brilliant as the radiant morning glow outside filtering through the windows. The multitude of texts he was met with as he scrolled through his friends’s group chat sent him more and more into shock the more he read:

GROUP CHAT:

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍: whats up my axolotls you criminals of society

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: That’s not how you’re supposed to talk to people Nezuko

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍: how else am i supposed to tell yall to get up and come over

Feral Boar🖕🐗: wait u have a phon

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: *phone

Feral Boar🖕🐗: whatever gonpachiro

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: *Tanjiro

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍: yea i won it in yet another bet on saturday cool right

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: This is a cry for help to yall (just joking I love my sister)

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍: but anyways thats not what we came to tell yall get up off your lazy bums rn and come over to our house we have something extremely important to tell yall and i cant summarize all that shit in a single text

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍: because then it would be a large ass text that clogs up storage and i hate large ass texts that clog up storage

🌸charged with espionage🦋: I flipped the coin and it landed heads… I’ll come over.

Feral Boar🖕🐗: and why ecsactly is this impoirtant

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: *exactly *important

Feral Boar🖕🐗: 🎶fuck you🤌🎶

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: inosuke thats not nice :(

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍: ew u still use emoticons

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: people still do that though?

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍: and u still like plain ass boiled vegetable sprouts. Thats more proof ur an old man lmfao- but anyways get yall asses over here asap

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: you’re treading on thin damn ice nezuko- wait oh no I cursed

Feral Boar🖕🐗: serves u rigt mf

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: *right

Feral Boar🖕🐗: i will com over to ur house to personally beat your ass monjiro

Feral Boar🖕🐗 is offline

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍: kanao you might wanna come over to prevent vodka boar from breaking our door for the 5th time 

🌸charged with espionage🦋: On my way, don’t worry.

🌸charged with espionage🦋 is offline

😍💖✨GODDESS NEZUKO-CHAN✨💖😍 is offline

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️ is offline

And merely moments later, Zenitsu knew that they must have noticed him come online because yet another notification popped up on his phone, making itself evident with an obnoxiously loud ping.

Feral Boar🖕🐗: @clinicallyanxiouslightning⚡💡Yo dandelion mf get your ass over here- im already here an the others are already on rout

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: *and *en route

Feral Boar🖕🐗: OH MY FBRUKING GOD

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: *f-cking

Feral Boar🖕🐗: AND U EVEN SENCORED THAT SHIT IM

Goddess’s brother🍘☀️: *censored

Feral Boar🖕🐗 is offline

Gods, was he about to simply collapse right then and there. The Kamado family lived in the lower district neighborhoods of Osaka, meanwhile here he was living with his adoptive brother and grandfather in some skyrise apartment that didn’t help his fear of heights at all- how was he supposed to descend the clunky old deathtraps of the elevators they had here without promptly suffering a mental breakdown? Kaigaku was probably storming up the stairs to beat the shit out of him for letting his phone go off throughout the night. Just then, a figure with unruly black hair and a muscular figure, turquoise eyes glinting in annoyance- with distinctive black bags underneath.

Speak of the devil.

“Oi, crybaby- I wake up at three in the morning to your phone blowing up from half a mile away, and then I get up to beat your ass only to find you sleeping like a damn baby! What gives!?” Kaigaku exclaimed, spreading his arms only to let them fall slack at his side.

Ah, yes, Zenitsu thought. Kaigaku Agatsuma. 

His adoptive brother was two years older than him, which he simply loved to brag about every waking second of every day for some unknown reason- but no, he had to make this very clear- he was not abusive. Abrasive and aggressive with an attitude of firecrackers to boot, yes- but he knew his limits, and had a more civilized side as well. His gestures of kindness to Zenitsu were rather obscure most of the time, but they still helped him out immensely, and every now and then, he’d make it clear that he loved Zenitsu- but most of their daily interactions did nothing if not annoy and immensely frustrate him.

So Zenitsu merely shot Kaigaku a sleepy glance with a haphazardly smoothed out bedhead. “You want me to make the walls less thinner or somethin’?” he mumbled out drowsily before a splash of cold water to the face sent waves of shock and alarm down his body and instantly jolted him wide awake, his back instantly going ramrod straight.

“AIYAH! I’m awake, I’m awake, please no more cold water!” Zenitsu shrieked out in a string of semi-coherent words, body quivering and trembling from the electrifying and dripping wet feeling coating his body now- he felt like a kitten in the rain, if he was being perfectly honest with both himself and Kaigaku- and judging from the scowl on the latter’s face, he could tell that he looked the part perfectly.

“Whatever, just go down and grab something to eat! Your girlfriend’s going to murder us both if you don’t get up off your ass!”

Oh. No.

A blush slowly begins to creep across Zenitsu’s face, trickles of red and simultaneously burning white hot heat slowly trekking across the skin of his cheeks until the blood beneath his skin was boiling all across his face, now as red as a tomato as his face ducks and burrows itself into his arms, wishing he could crawl into a hole right about now and start crying.

When did Kaigaku find out about my love for Nezuko-chan?

Multiple possibilities were already racing through Zenitsu’s head- did Nezuko-chan text Kaigaku? Did Nezuko-chan become friends with Kaigaku when he wasn’t looking? Or, even worse… DID NEZUKO-CHAN LIKE KAIGAKU MORE THAN HIM!?

He bit down on his lip to prevent himself from screaming in horror at the thought, lest he wanted yet another splash of water to the face.

“Hey, what did I just tell you to do, ya big horse’s ass!?” Kaigaku’s gruff voice called from downstairs, followed by the sounds of his adoptive grandfather scolding him, probably for ‘using such strong and improper language in the first place’.

Zenitsu would never admit it in person because he had no right to, but thank god for Mr. Kuwajima for keeping me and Kaigaku in check every now and then.

Practically throwing himself off the bed and into the shower, most of his attempts of trying to get ready afterwards were hasty and half-done as he haphazardly grabbed a jacket and shorts from the closet and squeaked nervously, struggling to slide them on. 

Only when he unceremoniously crashed into the ground and swore he nearly broke his back was the moment his cheeks burned with even more humiliation. The rest of the morning within the skyrise apartment was a blur, grabbing a piece of partially burnt toast off his plate on the dining table and sprinting towards the entrance. He barely heard Mr. Kuwajima’s slight cries of alarm at Zenitsu’s unusually hasty attitude, his pet bird Chuntaro’s incessant yapping as it flew after him out the door, and Kaigaku’s shouting for him ‘not to be late’ if he heard correctly. He had even followed his instinctual habit of running down the stairs three steps at a time, tripping over himself and stumbling and nearly face-planting onto the ground a time too many.

This just isn’t my day at all, is it?

________________________________________________________________________________________________

By Kami-sama, was it torridity incarnate outside.

Puddles of rainwater and partially caked mud lined the asphalt roads in copious amounts, staining the soles of his boots- every waking moment came with Zenitsu praying that a car wouldn’t coincidentally whizz by and splatter mud all over his clothes, lest Kaigaku murder him when he gets back home.

So instead he keeps his head down and continues walking, trying his best to ignore the putrid stench of death and decay, the sight of fleas feeding on the rotting corpses of dragonflies and frogs even making Chuntaro gag. At one point he was bold enough to tease her about picking up the disfigured bodies of worms off the ground with her beak- one glance back at the improptu worm graveyard, covered in worm carcasses crawling with fleas and maggots made Chuntaro deliver a swift and sharp peck to Zenitsu’s cheek, rightfully so.

What was he supposed to greet them with when they saw the miniscule red monstrosity inflamed and swelling on his neck like some mutated pimple? 

“Hi, my pet sparrow Chuntaro is sentient and almost killed me.”

No, Zenitsu thought to himself bitterly, pursing his lips and grinding his teeth together in a momentary flash of heated frustration. Who on earth would ever believe that? Get it together, Zenitsu!

Now the blonde merely rubbed his cheek and whimpered in pain, his pet sparrow’s beady dark eyes glaring daggers back at his own. Descending down the waterlogged concrete steps to the lower districts of Osaka did Zenitsu nearly double over and almost vomit at the vile odor, muttering to himself about how the dreaded smell of spring showers never got old, and probably never will. 

Arriving at the Kamado family house- the one with a distinctively navy blue roof and licorice red and cream white painted walls- his boots squelched through the mud as he trudged up to the door of the rather small abode, gently sighing before he pushed the already slightly ajar door open…

…and was instantly met with the blurred figure of Inosuke rushing forth at him, tackling him into the mud.

“INOSUKE!” a plethora of voices shrieked, tones incredibly shrill as a barbaric shout reverbrated throughout the air merely seconds later in response. “MONITSU! Why are you late!?” the feminine-faced menace practically screeched in his face before being hauled off of Zenitsu’s body by Kanao and Tanjiro, flashing apologetic looks to the blonde whose raincoat and boots were now caked in mud and grime. The poor boy knew he must have looked shaken, pale golden eyes practically widened in fear and muscles still trembling violently from surprise. 

“Inosuke,” Tanjiro reprimanded sternly. “We don’t tackle people.”

Gradually but surely, Nezuko hauled the shaken boy to his feet. “C’mon, up, up! Up and at em’!” the love of his life told him, and his jitters were instantly washed from his body like cool waves of gardenhose mist- merely the sound of her sonerous voice sternly scolding him was immensely therapeutic.

“I’m alright, Nezuko-chan~” he crooned almost out of subconscious habit before slender fingers grabbed the fabric of his shirt along the back of his neck, dragging him inside. “He’s intact, don’t worry!” the pink eyed girl called to the others behind her before her eyes fell back to the pavement and her voice instantly dropped several notches to a barely audible whisper, almost as if she was mouthing the words. “At least I should infer he’s somewhat intact.”

Walking past the kitchen and upstairs to where a miniscule pantheon of miniature crayon-drawn murals were scribbled on the walls, presumably by Hanako, Shigeru and Rokuta with Takeo desperately trying to stop them to no avail, they eventually entered the attic after a couple strides- forty nine, to be exact, according to Nezuko- it would’ve been twenty six had they been sprinting and hastily clambering up the stairs, skipping two at a time per each long-legged tread.

“Your attic is drafty,” Kanao dryly remarked, to which Tanjiro quirked his eyebrows in surprise- everyone was too busy being surprised at the fact that the youngest Kocho child said anything of her own volition at all. Usually she never spoke unless spoken to; and that rule applied practically everywhere.

The attic was messy as well, Zenitsu noted- with papers and blueprints and scribbled diagrams scattered across the floor alongside fancy tidbits of microchips and miscellaneous computer parts such as a PC machine balancing itself on a nearby coffee table as well as two wifi pineapples, both appearing as though they were salvaged from the garbage. Loose leaf papers and notebooks with random math equations, solved riddles and ciphers and encoders for many obscure languages, as well as meticulously measured geometric shapes and carefully drawn graphs scribbled in both graphite and black and blue ink were also piling themselves high on the tables and scattered about the floor. Nezuko merely paid no mind to it, skillfully navigating her way across the paper-strewn floor of the attic. “Apologies,” she expressed, though she didn’t sound terribly sorry- she sounded indifferent, more than anything else. “Don’t mind the mess. I’ll clean it up. Eventually. Someday. Somehow.”

Everyone doubted the truthfulness behind that promise.

The second-eldest Kamado child didn’t let a single second of awkward silence settle in before she spoke up. “But that’s not why I’ve requested a formal audience with you today. I’ve a matter of great importance to tell you, and it may or may not be up to us to save the entire world due to this discussion…”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

“ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” Zenitsu shrieked after a moment of stunned silence, finally picking his jaw off the floor to speak. The Kamado siblings, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed- Inosuke had a barely containable, almost childlike smile on his face, eyes glittering with excitement at the notion of fighting demons, while Kanao’s brows were upturned, mouth in a slight ‘O’ shape before she pursed her lips and let an exhale escape through her nostrils.

“Well… these are, ah- interesting details you’ve provided us,” she finally spoke, and some could see the emotion of hope glinting ever so slightly in those compound lilac eyes of hers for the first time in a long time. Inosuke elbowed her harshly, to which naturally no reaction was forced out of her.

“C’mon!” Inosuke exclaimed rather incredulously, beginning to pace around the room with a rather hyperexcited stance. “If what this ‘director guy’ says is true, we can destroy all those puny demons with cool ass superpowers!” he yelled. Zenitsu’s eyes widened, and golden eyes met pale green ones in an exasperated glare- this guy could NOT be serious.

“Well, riddle me this, Inosuke- just how were we supposed to know that we’re the descendants of a group of Sengoku superheroes!?” Zenitsu asked, half-yelling. “This Ubuyashiki guy comes along on a sunny afternoon inviting you to his palace and goes: ‘Hey, want to join a public organization of superheroes? You’re actually a part of their family tree, so it’s technically your destiny!’ Oh, reeeeally? Since when did I ever express the desire to be a part of the goddamn knockoff Avengers!? I CEEEERTAINLY DID NOT, POR FAVOR Y MUCHISIMAS GRACIAS.”

The heavily emphasized english accent on the spanish phrase did nothing to induce laughter in the others- if anything, it made them roll their eyes. Nezuko couldn’t help but nod in agreement to some parts of the sentence. “Right. Riiiight right right right, see?” she asked, pointing to Zenitsu in an almost accusatory manner. “Exactly what I was thinking during the whole discussion. Apparently we’re also the descendants of some Taisho Era secret service that operated underground before it was forced to stage its public disbansion,” she explained, leaning over to make grabby hands at her laptop, before finally getting ahold of it and dragging it over to herself before propping it neatly on her lap and beginning to open and type away furiously at the keyboard.

“I tried digging around the internet for the purpose of researching the Demon Slayer Corps that operated around the Taisho Era. Y’know, for useful information, including the profiles and biographies of the people that worked for this organization- but the keyword here is tried. Almost NO information is popping up on any of the websites or scholar articles I search for, and in the physical world, all traces regarding their existence has been either erased or cloaked in order to be invisible to the public eye,” she noted with admanace and fascination evident in her tone, the computer screen and multiple tabs pulled up on her browsers and holographic interface showing the same results she spoke of. Nezuko then brought up a finger to swipe at one of the holographic glowing screens as though it were second nature to her- as though she were merely using a phone.

Tanjiro then opened his mouth to speak. “Therefore, when I discovered Nezuko’s slightly fruitless quest to gather intelligence, I opted to go out and ask Muichiro and Himejima-sama about the Demon Slayer Corps and how they operated in days past,” he concluded, not quite looking smug, but still appearing proud of Nezuko and himself judging by his facial expression.

Zenitsu let out an audible sigh in response. He still couldn’t believe that Himejima-sensei and that sass-mouth middle schooler kept a secret from quite possibly the entire world- just how much more could they be hiding? He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Tanjiro’s voice- contrary to his normally kind and enthusiastic demeanor, now explanatory and focused.

“According to their information, we learned that they were much more of a private organization before their disbansion a few years before World War 2- we also learned that the partial reason of their downfall was a few, er… technological restrictions, if that’s the most appropriate term at the moment,” he tightly said, glancing back to the flip notebook in his hand. “For example, Himejima-san noted that their primary use of communication were specially trained birds called Kasugai Crows that were trained similarly to English homing pigeons in order to provide information, carry letters and give slayers directional support,” he noted before he was interrupted by Kanao’s clear and smooth voice- as cold and as informational as usual.

“Bad choice,” she mused. “Horrible choice, actually, if I’m being perfectly honest with you all. Practically nobody knows calligraphy nowadays because it’s not required, and letters even with high protection envelopes and tightly imprinted and stamped wax seals can be soaked up if not blown away in heavy precipiation in less-than-ideal weather conditions, smearing the ink beyond comprehension and and tearing apart the already-wet-by-then paper- or parchment, if we’re being accurate to time periods, locations and historical circumstances in Taisho Japan,” she explains, not stopping for even a visible intake of breath.

“Communication nowadays is instant, and most critical information must be a maximum of three days accurate and delivered in order to be considered valid. Letters delivered via homing pigeons- or in this case, Kasugai Crows- can very easily be intercepted by either demons or larger predators midflight, assuming they have impressively superhuman acrobatic abilities, which is how demons can potentially gain easy access to intel and can easily counter carefully crafted plans and calculations of slayers back then, which means they’re back to square one without even knowing because they didn’t even encrypt the sensitive information contained within.”

And with that being said, the youngest Kocho child closed her mouth after uttering those words, the whole room knowing they’d never hear a peep the extent of a paragraph out of her until much, much later.

“True,” Tanjiro snickered. “Especially when Muichiro noted that Kasugai crows were often noted to scream out information- he had collected a couple of leftover parchment letters and preserved them well enough, most of them being about young slayers complaining about how loud and annoying their respective assigned Kasugai Crows were,” he chuckled. 

Nezuko nodded. “A better option would be to encrypt the letters via invisible ink or convert the content into different, more publicly obscure languages such as written morse code, or thorough ROT-13,” she explained. “For maximum ensured security, it would be better to go with a cyclical ROT encryption, with the first character following the rules of ROT-13, and the second character following the rules of ROT-14, and so on- until on the tenth character, that’s when it cycles back to ROT-13 to ensure that the pattern per sentence would be slightly randomized every now and then.”

The moment Nezuko finished speaking was when Tanjiro got up to reveal a large white board with multiple bullet points of information scribbled down on it. “We also talked to Old Man Saburo for some information, since Himejima-sama pointed us towards him as a useful lead.”

Now, that sentence almost immediately caught Inosuke’s attention like a firefly in a spider’s web. “Old Man Saburo? Don’t you mean that widowed old nut who stays up all night crocheting and reading in that old shingled and probably haunted house?” he asked before Zenitsu shot a glare at him. “That’s no way to speak about your elders, let alone one who lost a probably beautiful wife, damnit!” the blonde hissed through clenched teeth, evidently pissed. “Show some respect!”

“Can you let us finish?” Nezuko asked, clearly annoyed by the two’s incessant banter. “Please? Okay- anyways, going off the meager bits of knowledge that we were already going off of, apparently the guy was one of the many descendants of a family who ran an underground network of inns and medical rehabiliation centers called the Wisteria Trails,” she explained. “Severely wounded slayers could stop at any one of the Wisteria Inns present on the roadside where they would be treated in accordance with the wounds they had from fighting demons- due to the medical expertise of those whom previously staffed it, a plethora of antiserums and antidotes were developed for many of the strange abilities the demons had cast on these slayers, such as hemolytic, cytotoxic or neurotoxic venom, et cetera. They also served as graveyards to slayers who couldn’t make it due to their affliction. The Wisteria Inns even served as storage houses and armories to house the swords of slayers, and were even in cahoots with another established secret district known as Swordsmith Village, which Old Man Saburo said he’s paid a visit to a few times.”

Nezuko, pacing around the room, continued her speech. “In summary, I see a pattern- the whole elaborate setup was an underground secret society shtick meant to aid slayers and essentially make life instrumentally harder for demons. Some practices were eliminated, reference homing pigeons for more details, and some were carried over, such as the inn network in more remote areas of the world. This little research project my brother and I have co-initiated still remains open for further details to be added- any questions?” she asked, clasping her hands together and letting her eyes fall to scan across the room at the others sitting criscross on the frigid attic floor.

Zenitsu barely held in yet another despondent sigh. What was he, a soldier of some sorts? Mr. Kuwajima had always told him that he and Kaigaku were special, that they were both destined for greater things than the mundane bleakness of ordinary life. Most times it had just resulted in moments where Zenitsu was at his limit, at his breaking point, everyone around him telling him to quit, that he was no good.

He remembered the sound ringing white in his ears, as the noises around him swarmed him and encroached on his small and vulnerable figure as he covered his ears and cocooned himself, frail and screaming and begging for it to stop.

And despite everything… why was Mr. Kuwajima so supportive? And why was Kaigaku practically yelling at him that he would kill him if he didn’t keep going?

The sounds of failure and overstimulation were unbearable- deafening. White and ringing and pulsating in his bones with every beat and every aggressive thump and clash against his eardrums that made the sides of his vision thrum with agony. He screamed for it to stop, that he surrendered, that he wanted the pain and the crushing weight hunkering and pressing down relentlessly on his chest to just fucking end for the love of god-

And yet, the sounds of their voices… the voices of Mr. Kuwajima and Kaigaku were unmistakable, drowning out all the other noises once they spoke, almost as if cleansing him. Grounding him, reminding him that reality was still intact and that getting stuck in a tree did not mean the end of the world. That it was okay to be afraid.

That it was perfectly and completely human to be anxious- because even though their primary display of affection was tough love, not once have they ever cracked a rude joke centered around his hypervigilance or nervousness that was primarily meant to offend him- not once did they scream at him or blame him for being the way he was.

Not once did they ever tell him to stop.

Eventually, Zenitsu began to bond more with Mr. Kuwajima, who repeatedly insisted that Zenitsu call him Grandpa Jigoro or Gramps- anything other than Mr. Kuwajima, really- but Zenitsu felt like he didn’t deserve such a privilege of dropping formalities… or as amazing of a caretaker as Mr. Kuwajima, for that matter. Kaigaku would often respond to this by throwing a random stuffed animal or soft-cover book at Zenitsu and yell at him to ‘shut up with the annoying titles and whatnot’.

That was when he was four years old- when he turned five, he met Tanjiro, Nezuko and Inosuke. One year later and they all met Kanao, the youngest child of the Kocho family. Initially, Zenitsu completely freaked out and cried since Kanao was the oldest child- and rightfully so- her silent and perculiarly inquisitive demeanor was a little off-putting. It took quite a bit of convincing to learn that beneath the robotic exterior and stoic expression was a knowledgable, practical and a rather shy teenager- and that just like Nezuko, she sometimes struggled to make the pencil move as fast as her mind. Eventually, their voices began to comfort him whenever the sounds became too much- and that was the moment he knew it was time to welcome them into his family… into his own world.

And now that they were there beside him, even a cowardly man knew that hell saw no fury like an angry hormonal teenager scorned. And the devil would have to fistfight him in person before he’d allow himself to lose any of his friends, especially his one true love- Nezuko-chan; because they were all a bunch of nerds whom occasionally quoted references from books and movies and used weird cultural references as jokes, and he was a pile of nerves who grew up with a sagacious and supportive grandfather and his brother, who was the best gold-hearted asshole he could have ever asked for.

His life was fine- yet he understood that if no action were to be taken, it wouldn’t be anymore. And by god, by god did he hate it, by GOD did he hate responsibilities and expectations and crushing pressure because it was just so so so unecessary. And yet, this was different- like he was imposing this duty upon himself because he felt so strongly about this, felt that he had to do something alongside his friends who so willingly agreed to this stupid plan because yes I want to save humanity’s skin- we all want to save each other and protect the Earth because we’re the idiots that want to protect our own home that we live in.

So he nodded in agreement, knowing that he would probably regret his decision for the rest of his life, but didn’t care. “I know. Trust me, we all have families to take care of, chores and homework to do, futures to look forward to… but if what you say is true… society as we know it could be in serious danger here,” he stated firmly in agreement, voice solemn and far from his usual nervous mumbles or shrill cries. “If we let this go on… there won’t be chores or homework to do… schools to go to, food to eat or mouths to feed… there won’t be a home to go to or a life to enjoy anymore,” he declared, newfound confidence and determination surging into him. He hated it, hated the feeling of unfamiliarity, thought it strange and scary- but he chose to accept it, to relish and prize the fear unlike so many times before where the fear left him shivering and in tears.

Not this time. Because now, with newfound clarity and newfound courage was the time where he knew what to do.

“This one’s on us.”

Inosuke was flabbergasted by Zenitsu’s solemn expression, surprised at the fact that someone - yet he chose not to ruin the moment, lest he wanted to shatter the atmosphere.

The group nodded in agreement.

Whatever it took, they would get it done. All for their families- all for their friends and for humanity.

All for their tomorrow.

[ultimatedemonsimp]

It's come to my attention that there is not a lot of t-word content on Obey Me! And as a member of both communities, I am expected to provide what is lacking. This has MC as a switch.

Obey Me! Shall We Date? Tickle headcanons!

Lucifer

Whether you want to believe it or not, he didn't get into tickle fights much.

That being said, when he did, he was a ruthless ler through and through.

He didn't get involved because none of the brothers, not even Mammon, are dumb enough to provoke him.

Then MC comes along.

With their lack of self preservation instincts and common sense, provoking Lucifer into tickle fights, no matter how one sided they are, becomes almost a daily occurrence.

Finds himself now beginning to identify more as a ler-leaning-switch.

Main spots are his shoulder blades, sides, ribs, and hips. Rough tickles get the loudest responses, though reactions to light scratching, fluttering, and/or pinching his ribs are absolutely adorable.

Though he is a ler-leaning-switch, that doesn't mean he has at all left his ruthlessness at the door, he could still probably kill someone if he wanted to.

Uses all kinds of tickles depending on who and where it is. (Will die before telling anyone, but he really like to give and receive sillier stuff like nibbles and raspberries)

He was/is a bit gentler with MC because he, originally, though that the human was too fragile for what he normally does. If MC straight up tells him that they don't want him to be easy on them, then, believe you me, he won't. Do be prepared, MCs that believe they can take it, to be almost killed every single time.

8/10 for ticklishness.

Mammon

If he says his middle name is gambling, he's lying, it's actually switch.

As a playful tickle monster of a ler and a blushy, flustered mess of a lee, this man can not take what he dishes out.

This mf growls in the most teasing way possible, the three times in at least a dozen millenia that Lucifer found himself in the position of lee even he found himself blushing at the second born's antics.

MC comes along and this man almost dies on several occasions.

He doesn't need to breathe, but gdi, he wish he did so he could use that to make them stop.

Don't worry about what gets the best reactions, all of them do.

Even though... go for the middle section (right where his wings pop out) of his back if you want him to beg, ribs+sides if you want frantic laughter, and thighs+ass if you want high notes.

Did I mention that he's a brat? 'Cause he's a brat.

He will do anything but what you tell him to, if he knows you'll tickle him. He's the kind of brat that thinks they can take it, but start begging before you even touch them.

Over all, 13/10 on the ticklish scale.

Leviathan

This mans...

Right off the bat, baby's a lee-leaning switch.

He lers to get revenge on some people and lees most of the time.

He ended up on the losing side of tickle fights nine times outta ten.

When he does ler though...

The tail in his demon form isn't just for direction and decoration, oh, no, no, he'll pin you with it so he can use both hands. If a majority of it is free, he'll use it to help tickle you, too.

His preferred method of tickling people in poking bc it doesn't require to much physical contact, but if he's really trying he'll go all out. Squeezes, raspberries, nibbles, pinches, and that's not even the end of the list.

Teases his lee by pointing out obvious shit, like how red their face is, how they've been bested by a "dirty otaku", how much their laughing, etc, etc.

Then Mc comes along and he just can't-

Malfunctions 75% of the time he's suddenly touched, and when Mc appears outta nowhere to start shit that gets bumped up to 80%.

Tease him, trust me.

He'll whine about it, but he wants it.

Lower back damn near kills him, underarms are torture, and stummy turns him into the giggly-ist, blushy-ist, adorable ball of mush you've ever seen.

12/10 for ticklish asf.

Satan

You can't even attempt to tickle this man.

Right below Lucifer when it comes to who wins the family tickle fights.

He's in a full on war with Lucifer for the No. 1 spot.

He has yet to win against his brother/father, and probably never will-

Ler all the way, and he's RUTHLESS.

Like, more ruthless than Lucifer, because Lucifer will let up so you breathe after a while so you don't suffocate.

Satan has spells that will force oxygen into and out of your lungs and, if he uses them, that's it. You're fucked. You pissed him off, now he's gonna get you back until he feels satisfied.

When Mc comes along, he's actually kinda happy when they challenge him.

Finally! I worthy opponent! Our battle shall be legendary!

Teasing will result in immediate termination by tickles.

He cackles like an evil mastermind if you squeeze his hips, will attempt to fist-fight you if you start poking around him back, and,- just,-... gives tf up if you go for the outer side of his thighs.

7/10 but just can't take it.

Asmodeus

Careful, now! Asmo is just about anything and everything.

This baby is 100% a switch and changes for whatever his partner wants.

Lees, you want a ruthless ler? Merciful? Something else/in between? Asmo's got you.

Lers, you want a brat? Obedient? Something else/in between? Asmo's got you!

Fellow switches? Anytime, anywhere, Asmo. Has. Got you.

Asmo often tries to use tickle fights to feel people up, but it's kinda hard to do that when your arms are pinned above your head, so he'll just sit there and take it.

However, he has accidentally started them from attempting to feel someone up.

He's ticklish just about everywhere, but his thighs, knees and underarms deserve some special attention.

Absolutely the demon to tease his 'lees with compliments (unless it's Mammon, to which then it's straight up lecturing or insults)

NAILS.

Watch out for this man's nails because they're deadly.

That being said, he know just how tickly his nails are and uses them every chance he gets, so you really can't watch out for them.

I've said before that he'll be whatever the other wants, but when he wants to tickle, he's mean. The kind of mean that makes lees keyboard smash.

6/10, but it can and will change depending on the person.

Beelzebub

Tickle monster 2.0

Tickle bear hugs!

He is a ler, but he's a very sweet ler.

Light tickles, nibbles, chomp-ies, kisses, the occasional raspberry here and there.

He teases by asking questions that would be normal to ask in any other situation, but it's flustering in this one.

Gets into tickle fights all the time!

He's the one holding the person who started it down, while the others go ham on them.

Hungy Sweetheart just wants to be helpful!

He's almost never lee'd!

Then MC comes along and figures out that's because he's only ticklish in very certain spots that's no one'd really checked.

The only other person to know where those are, is Belphie bc it's Belphie-

Baby is very scared of hurting you, so he doesn't try to fight you off, or buck, or anything.

Doesn't really laugh, but he does giggle. When you find those spots near his neck and stomach, he's giggling like a mad man.

4/10 but is very sweet.

Belphegore

Our poor, tired, murderous calf...

Yeah, in an alternate universe, he killed us with tickles.

We've got another ruthless ler on our hands.

You'd think he doesn't care about tickling people bc tired, but that's how he gets ya

If you're getting chased, you're more likely to run to the one place you know there's a person who wouldn't wanna tickle you, but, secretly, that person does want to tickle you and once you've locked the door and hunkered down with them, you've dug your own grave.

The ler that's gonna tell you to be quiet while they attack your worst spots.

He's a ler, but that doesn't mean he's not ticklish.

Over all, he's not insanely ticklish like Levi or Mammon, but he's pretty bad.

His neck, thighs and belly make him laugh desperately, but anywhere else is light giggles and squeaks to yelps and squeals.

Squeezing is his favorite, giving and receiving.

6/10 for the 7th born

That's it for now, I've had this sitting in my queue for months now and I had to get this out of it. Consider this a part 1 and part 2 will be the "Neo Dateables" or side characters.

[lightdancer1]

One of the things that could work for a more morally ambiguous element of Iroh based purely on his canonical past and interpretations

At the one hand yes, he is a hedonist who could have done a bunch of things and elected not to do them. The immediate aftermath from 'Siege of Ba Sing Se' to 'returns to the Palace' is vague enough that any given element of the immediate background can hinge on where and how Iroh acted and just what he did and was doing in the spirit world.

At the other hand in the series when he made those infamous 'she's crazy and she has to go down' statements, he's fully involved in the war again, and he's facing the simple reality of an officer in a war. War means fighting, fighting means killing. Sentimentality in wartime is a good way to die.

Since he elected to let the kids do the bleeding and dying, he's stuck with the simple reality that his niece and nephew are locked in a dance of death. Yes, a moral man would try to get them both out of the situation and as the adult with presumably far more power and experience than either this is exactly what he should have done. In a setting less reliant on 'the kids are not all right and they get stuck cleaning up their elders' mess' that is exactly what he probably would have done if not slotted into 'Obi-Wan that didn't die' roles.

So at the end of the day, he has to keep Zuko focused on not-dying and the reality that relying on Azula to show mercy (which in the end is precisely what she did do) is a foolish gamble. There were no particular reasons to see the end of Season II as the only path events could have taken.

So I believe in this sense a morally ambiguous and ultimately relatively neutral view of Iroh's decisions is his acting like an officer instead of an uncle, and a responsible adult. He is keeping his subordinate in line and motivated, because he wants him to live. Is this saying 'good uncle Iroh', well no. Is this saying 'good General Iroh'? Well, also no because Zuko is so hilariously unreliable that he might as well hurl a rock at people and it'd be more reliable than that.

It does, however, give a context for Iroh's actions that can work at a meta level, without neglecting that he is in fact enabling bad situations. And it also hinges at a Doylist level that a responsible adult would have dragged the kids out of a war zone at all and done things themselves, which would be a very different kind of story. Kids' cartoons center children as characters because that's the kind of stories they tell. So in that sense there are no good interpretations allowable because it's a necessary weasel for the kind of story to exist at all (short of aging everyone up to young adults, though this is an approach used in fanfiction).

[cerastes]

Among many things in Darknight’s Memoir, I love how the themes, and their effect on the cast, get touched upon in a manner that isn’t entirely explicit but isn’t as crystal clear as you’d expect.

For example, at one point, W was entirely willing to blow herself up to take out the enemy. She didn’t particularly want to, but she was going to do it if it came to it and if she had no other way out. When Ines understandably asks her “are you serious?”, W simply answers “well, if there’s no other way out of this, a kill is a kill, right?”. Contrast this with her attitude later, where her demeanor is as playful and caustic as we’ve come to expect from her, but her decisions, however, her courses of action, change entirely. No more thrill-seeking by riding the Catastrophe’s wind, no more gambles, no more unnecessary risks, she’s come to put a value on her own life beyond being a mercenary in the endless war game of the Kazdel barrenlands, she’s got a mission, something she less needs to accomplish and more that she wants to accomplish.

And that’s an important narrative thread in Darknight’s Memoir: To want. Sarkaz mercenaries, by and large, fight for the next paycheck more than anything, to get by, a client that pays is a good enough client. W herself initially came to Hoederer with the intent on killing him and claiming the bounty on his head. Seeing her prey firsthand and noticing she can’t kill him, she joins him instead. And that’s just natural: Why take on a foe that will likely injure you irreparably or even kill you? Better join up, and go for bigger fish. There’s literally no stakes in that fight. There’s nothing beyond the paycheck, but that also means there’s nothing except the paycheck: You can take it, but you can also leave it. The longer lived Sarkaz know when to take and when to live.

W, at this point, Wanted Nothing. Just being able to go through the motions, through whatever fights came next, was good enough. One of the first scenes we are treated to involves W throwing a team of her own mercenary corps under the bus to make it out alive. As a reader, our first reaction most likely is “wow, what a bastard”, but then you see Hoederer and Ines’ reaction, and it’s simply “oh, yeah, that happens”. It’s completely normal. That just happens in Kazdel and among Sarkaz, it’s the norm. That’s not to say it isn’t appalling, but in the context of Kazdel, that’s just another day in the job.

There’s no Want. Or technically speaking, there’s a very superficial, utilitarian, soulless Want: The next day, the next paycheck, the next meal, the next fight. Who cares about whatever the trillion of ‘noble’ Sarkaz clans are fighting for or peddle? They have their flags and their sigils and their plastic speeches, but they are all the same: The same warriors, the same traitors, the same devils. Whichever pays you, it’s all the same.

That changes when W meets Theresa. The full breadth of their dynamic is not explored in Darknights’ Memoir, but it’s made very clear that seeing the King of Kazdel, the sovereign of all Sarkaz, the noblest of nobles herself, Theresa, hunched over clumsily trying to fix a janky door, had an effect on W. Well, that, and their subsequent dialogue. Theresa was likely the first Sarkaz W met that wasn’t at least romancing a few ways to kill her, that simply wanted to know her name, and a little more about her. To us, Theresa showed the barest of cordialities with a kind demeanor, but to W, it was likely something that sent her brain into a blue screen of death state. She took an interest in Theresa, unlike she ever did with any other Sarkaz, or noble, or even any other person, and she observed her and served her.

And that there is when a pivotal change occurs: Want.

There is now Want. W No Longer Wants Nothing. She wants to see Theresa interact with others, she wants to see her alone, she wants to see how she does this and that, she wants to see her ideals through, she wants to actually believe in what she has to offer, because for the first time, it’s not a paycheck on the other side of the table that’s motivating her, it’s being able to see someone sincerely working towards a noble goal without ulterior motives and without betrayal, someone who actually believes what she preaches. Not long before this particular cutscene, Hoerderer mentions having killed someone that was trying to assassinate him, a guy he knew and that called him his friend, that even said he’d love for him to marry his daughter. This is the Sarkaz Normal. Literally everything is meaningless to the Sarkaz, even camaradeire. Not on Babel, not on that landship. W might as well have seen paradise in Babel, and in Theresa, a Messiah.

And, see, this is what I love about Darknights’ Memoirs: W doesn’t suddenly turn soft. W doesn’t do a 180. W supports the lofty goals of Theresa in the ways she knows, no doubt dyed by Theresa’s colors, but nonetheless using the skills and temperament that comes natural to her. W was born and nurtured by the battlefield, it’d make no sense for her to suddenly discard all of it, but the colors of Theresa are evident from this point on, even after Theresa’s passing.

W never becomes any less ruthless to her enemies, but there’s clearly a change to the melody of her percussive explosives. It’s no longer about the next battlefield, it’s no longer about the next paycheck, no, every move, from there on, has one clear objective: Kill Theresis, for having Theresa killed.

Now, revenge is nice and cold, but there’s a difference in how she’s going about this: As Hoederer mentions he wants out of this sordid lifestyle, W’s first reaction is to lament the loss of a capable hand, but to otherwise tell him that, if he’s getting out, he might as well Take This Specific Route She Knows Is Safest. It’s not the first farewell she’s given her blessing to: In this very conversation, Hoederer muses that W’s turned soft for letting Flamebringer leave without repercussions. While W’s Sarkaz ended up directly killing Scout’s team, Ines herself outright says to Scout that W didn’t have the heart to kill her old Babel ally (and this is an important distinction: Remember that W is loyal to Babel, not Rhodes Island), with W likely half counting on The Ghost of Babel to be able to make it out with his considerable skills (although if we recall what Scout had to say in Operational Intelligence, he seems to have been pretty aware he was going to die one way or another, and accepted this; his lack of regrets make more sense when you consider he IS the reason why RI was able to rescue Doctor at all, thanks to his deal with W so she’d let Rhodes Island pass). W, at this point of Want, is at that point where she’s not losing any sleep if she has to off someone so her cover in Reunion is believable and isn’t blown, but if she can avoid killing RI Operators, she’ll try and take that road (such as her not killing Adnachiel). Obviously, it’s not exactly the most altruistic or heroic of attitudes, but it’s about as good as it gets for, again, someone who used to believe that using her own teammates as cannon fodder to cover her retreat was perfectly normal and expected, even.

Recall the talk Ines and Hoerderer had about flags. Hoerderer says he’d rather forget about their flag, because it’s an empty symbol, and there’s no real flag for him to believe for... Instead, he believes in the flagpole: You could take that to be a very pure representation of Kazdel as a concept, as this eternal, meaningless warzone, where meaningless people wage meaningless conflict for meaningless rewards, create meaningless bonds and ultimately die a meaningless death: The very same man that throws his arm around you, calls you his friend, and tells you to marry his daughter will take a contract on your head the next day. It’s just the flagpole. It’s meaningless. It holds nothing but useless air. A flagpole with no flag is representative of something that has no meaning and no essence, a lone flagpole is exactly that: An ode to being devoid of, bereft of what should be there, but isn’t.

In many ways, as you may have noticed, Hoederer is meant to be a foil to W, and this is no exception: W has a flag, and again, it’s extremely telling that W’s affiliation as an Operator is not Rhodes Island or Kazdel, it’s Babel.

If we can consider Kazdel to mean more than just a physical location, if we can consider Kazdel to represent that meaningless, cruel, harsh style of life and way of death, then so we can consider Babel to be more than simply “Rhodes Island before Rhodes Island”, we can consider Babel to mean the ideology of Theresa, that style of life and way of death, full of meaning, with a clear objective, with a rocky path well worth the bloody trek.

If whenever Hoederer talks about about wanting to “leave Kazdel” as wanting to leave this sordid lifestyle behind once and for all, then thus, W being a part of Babel, despite her contact with Rhodes Island’s Kal’tsit, despite her undercover status as Theresis’ representative of the Sarkaz in Reunion, despite all affiliations, then that means something. And it’s changed her to some degree, sure, but the important change here is not W as a person, but rather, what W chooses to do with what she is and what she can do, successfully breaking out of the endless cycle of meaningless, vapid warfare, participating in it only in order to eventually crush it. Whereas W initially joined Hoederer because she saw herself outgunned, W is actively going against Theresis, even if she is more outgunned than ever, because now she has something she Wants. She could very easily submit to Theresis, but that’s what the past, Want-less W would do, not the current W, driven by Babel.

Because maybe, that’s all that the Sarkaz needed: Not something to believe, because words are cheap and nobles have those a dime a dozen, but someone to believe in. And not just anybody, but someone that can actually promise you more than a meaningless battle the next three weeks, and then deliver with their actions.

Maybe all they need is to Want.

Because sometimes, many times, Wanting is what breaks the stagnant cycle, but do not underestimate how easy it is to forget to Want... Or to never have learned to Want, in the case of the Sarkaz.

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 14 ~The Element of Surprise ~

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in The Reunion

They fitted perfectly, her softness cradling his boneless heap, making him hard as steel again. Some part of his brain must have still been functioning because he jerked and reached out for her bra to cover her when his doorbell rang. Christ!  Forcing his body to move with marginal success, he yanked her up and pulled up his jeans.

Claire slid off the table and grabbed her clothes. "Who could that be?"

"That better not be yer uncle or ..." Jamie trailed off, muttering curses under his breath, annoyed at the disturbance as he was just revving up for part two of their lovemaking. When he opened the door, a sense of deja vu hit him when he saw Mrs Fitz standing there with what seemed like a plate of a lemon meringue pie. What the fuck?

"Mrs Fitz!"

The older woman didn't bother to hide her curiosity this time as her eyes tried to peer past his shoulders. "Heard ye have company, lad, and I havenae seen Miss Claire the last couple of days."

  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

  Six Days Later

Claire's heavy eyelids fluttered open, her brain still addled by sleep. It took her a while to gather her thoughts and remember how she'd made it to bed last night. She shifted slightly in bed, but there's a two-hundred-fifty pound of hard-muscled, naked male restricting her movement. Jamie's arm was draped across her waist, securing her against his chest, her legs confined under his heavier ones. She could feel his soft, steady breathing blowing warm air on top of her head, reminding her how well he'd been sleeping the last few nights. There had been no night terrors or unpleasant dreams interrupting his sleep, and she put it down to his workload during the day and their physical activities between the sheets at night.

Today was Friday, and the realisation caused a huge smile to spread across her face. Last night she'd worked late until past ten, and Jamie had found her fallen asleep in front of her laptop in her studio shed. He'd scooped her up in his arms and helped her get ready for bed, and just before sleep claimed her, he'd whispered he had a surprise for her today. 

She wondered what the surprise was and guess it would probably be a long lie-in for them and breakfast in bed. Looking back, the past few days had flown by in a blur, packed with work and catching up with her uncle Lamb during nights. Ever since her emotional reunion with Jamie, her work-related things had gone from a shamble of mess to running smoothly. It's as if the universe had decided to grant her reprieve as everyone went out their way to appease her. Even her boss John seemed to have given her space and was allowing her to work in peace. Somehow, deep down, she had a sneaking suspicion Jamie had something to do with it. 

It had all began at the start of the week when Jamie had been at work. Tom had stopped by the cottage to hand her a signed contract agreeing to his book's publication. By the time she'd told John the good news, he'd been in his element detailing his main point plan for getting the word out and announcing the book deal to Tom's adoring followers. She'd thought her boss would demand to get her and Tom on the next plane to London, but instead, John had told her he'd arranged a team to fly to Inverness for a formal meeting with their new author. As if that wasn't enough, two days later, Mary had produced enough drafts for Claire to work on and promised there would be more on the way. Her uncle, sensing work was piling, would occasionally stop by either to whip up something to eat or bring food while she'd been ensconced in her studio shed. Not that it was unusual for her uncle to perform domesticated pursuits; however, it's still surprising that he was going the extra mile to help around the house when he had the Highlands at disposal for his adventures being an outdoor person that he was.

It's becoming clear this week was proving to be a period of many turning points. She had no idea what the future had in store for her and Jamie, but she knew something had shifted in their relationship, and it was definitely for the better. Though she's still the same girl who's still trying to find her place in the world and fit in, she knew she'd changed, too. A few months ago, she would have probably backed down from any forms of conflicts, citing life as complicated enough without adding more complications. But she'd learned how to respond, choose fights that are worth fighting for and cast aside that wasn't deserving of her peace of mind. She'd also learned that once in a while, it's good for her sanity to give propriety and rules the middle finger when a situation called for it. 

It's hard to believe she's planning her life in the Highlands, the place where her parents had met and found love in each other. In her quest to get to know them more, she'd spent her holidays here to be closer to their memories and live that adventure they'd so craved. Now, she was involved with a man tormented with demons. If her parents were still alive today, she wondered how they would receive Jamie. Would they have been like Jenny or her uncle, suspicious and sceptical of their relationship? Or would they have been happy with her choice just like Willie, Brian, and Ellen have been with Jamie's?

Deep in her heart, she knew that her parents would have taken one look at them and understood that Jamie was special and meant to be her life adventure. From what Claire had surmised from uncle Lamb's stories, her parents have been that kind of people, magnanimous of spirit and always saw the best in others. Jamie was like that too. He'd taken a gamble with her despite their differences and the geographical challenges ahead. Though it seemed she was helping him with his condition, unbeknownst to Jamie, he too was helping her heal the part of her that became an orphan. In some invisible way, he was repairing something in the fabric of her world that had been torn down the middle when her parents passed away. She absorbed that thought and was reminded of what Uncle Lamb once told her, that her father always had a peculiar sense of humour. With that in mind, she'd like to think that just maybe her father had sent Jamie her way on purpose. His way of telling her to let go of the past, not over-think, embrace the Highlands as much as he had and just love.

Lying next to Jamie in bed, she felt totally at peace. They might have had a crisis of faith, but she was confident they'll find their way through whatever path was laid before them. Their love wasn't and probably never going to be easy, given their journey had been emotional, tangled with roadblocks, denials and self-preservation. Still, she wanted to find her way with him. She'd just discovered this strength she didn't realise she had, and Jamie continued to surprise her with his single-mindedness purpose to be cured. Someone once said there's no fulfilment without a bit of struggle. Just like in the stories she hoped to publish one day, the heroes had to break down first and bleed before earning their happy ending. Well, if that's the rule, she couldn't envision facing life's trials and tests with any other person to stand beside her other than Jamie.

Her smile was still in place when her thoughts were suspended by a rush of heat as Jamie's hand coasted over her hip to disappear between her thighs. A sudden thrill shot through her, making her breath catch in her lungs. He shifted the leg holding her thighs down and deftly opened her to his touch, stroking the sensitive flesh in between. She felt his shaft stir against her bottom as she scooted closer to him, eliciting a guttural sound to escape his lips.

"I can practically hear the cogs turning in yer head, Sassenach," he muttered thickly, his breathing turning shallow at the back of her neck. He nipped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged. "What's going on in that mind of yers?"

"Oh, this and that and how you've been sleeping soundly ...these last few nights." She gasped out loud when he rubbed her nub with a calloused thumb. She tilted her head back to look at his face, and her lips were met by a long-drawn, possessive kiss. By the time their mouths parted, she was panting for air and squirming against him mindlessly. 

"Christ, ye're ready for me. Why did ye no' wake me up?" He thrust his finger deep inside her, fondling the spot he knew drove her wild and frantic. "Next time ye want me, wake me up."

"I-I couldn't. You were sleeping so peacefully." 

He paused his ministrations. "That's no' the answer I was hoping to hear."

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! "Y-yes, next time, I'll wake you up!"

"That's my lass." He sank another finger into her entrance. But as she tried to clench around him, his fingers slid out, using her wetness to coat her nub and gently rub her aching flesh. She wanted to scream at him for teasing her, but he only softly chuckled against her neck. At that moment, she needed to come more than she needed air. She hoarsely whispered his name in a plea for release. "Ach, no' yet, Sassenach ... ye listen better when I'm touching ye." She yelped when he suddenly yanked the covers away and flipped her on her stomach, the crisp morning air caressing her heated skin. "Let me see first that beautiful arse of yers." He shoved a pillow beneath her hips, putting her in a highly arousing position, her face mushed against the mattress and her bottom in the air. "Such a beautiful bum."

"Jamie ..." 

He kneaded the curves of her buttocks as he let out a frustrated male groan. "Let us talk first. This is the only time I'm pretty sure ye're no' gonnae argue with me with what I'm about to say. Ye listening?"

"Yes, yes ...get on with it, damn it!"

He laughed out loud just before his lips travelled along the path of her spine, kissing and nibbling her flesh. One hand slid around her belly and down the apex of her thighs, slipping blunt fingers into her folds as his mouth moved to her neck. He lingered there, biting hard and then soothing the sting with a lick of his tongue. Anticipation pulsated within her body, and goosebumps erupted on her skin as the weight of his erection slid against her upturned bottom, and Jamie positioned himself behind her. When he hefted her higher with his forearm, she let out a squeak. "Ye'll no' be working this weekend."

"Jamie," she whimpered. "B-but I can't."

"Oh yes, ye can." Skilled fingers stroke her sensitive nub, and with one thrust of his hips, he completely filled her, taking her by surprise. She nearly screamed, pressing her mouth against the mattress, suddenly mindful of nosey neighbours. She remembered what Jamie had told her about Mrs Fitz and muffled her moans on the covers of the bed.

"Oh, God, this is not fair," she breathed on an uneven exhale.

"I told ye last night, I have a wee surprise for ye. Ye've worked long enough this week. Ye're taking a wee break this weekend." When she didn't respond, he stilled his hips and took out his fingers from inside her. "You need a break, Sassenach. Now, for the love of God, just say yes, Jamie."

When Jamie drew out his hardness and plunged deeply back into her, heart-stopping sensations coursed through her whole body. Something about how he positioned her, the fluid, smooth drives of his movement made her mad with need. She wanted to urge him to go faster, but she clamped her mouth shut. He was deliberately torturing her and forcing her to agree with him. So she decided she was going to get her own back. Contracting her inner walls, she clenched around him. From experience, she knew the more he had to work to push into her, the wilder he would become. Just when she thought she finally got the upper hand, he paused and dropped his weight, stopping just short of squashing her. "No, no, no! Please don't stop!" she wailed.

"Oh, aye." He pushed his lower body tight to her bottom, his erection throbbing inside her. When she tried to wriggle her bum to urge him to start moving again, he firmly gripped her hips in place. "Ah, I ken what ye're up to," he whispered hotly in her ears. "I'm no' taking no for an answer. Ye owe this break to yourself."

"You don't play fair."

"Neither do ye."

Thinking she could compromise later after spending the whole morning with him, she finally conceded. "Fine. Just keep moving, for God's sake!" she hissed.

He let out a pained laugh and pressed his lips on the crook of her neck. "Good lass, ye ken it makes sense." Then cursing under his breath, he moved all the way out in one smooth slide before deliciously gliding deep back. "Christ, I can feel ye want to come, but ye're going to stay with me a little longer. Ye fell asleep on me last night, leaving me with a painful cockstand." 

"Jesus, Jamie."

"Aye," he rasped hoarsely into her hair. "I said the same thing when ye wriggled that pert arse against me and fell asleep immediately."

The way his thickness was invading her from an angle almost sent her hurtling over the edge. And it gave her a new appreciation for math. The thought almost made her laughed out loud if it wasn't for the pulsing pleasure between her legs.

"Christ ...look at ye," Jamie gritted, his voice sounding raw and almost severe. "So bloody perfect." 

He nudged her legs wider and changed his movements to short, strong strokes, increasing his pace with primitive energy that left her gasping for breath. With the sound of their slapping bodies, the earthy scent of arousal, the sweaty slide of skin, her belly began to tighten and coil.

"I just want to make ye happy, Sassenach," he groaned, bearing down his upper body more, his hips relentlessly pounding into hers. "So just say yes to my wee surprise, aye?" 

"Yes, yes, yes." Their voices sounded so far away, and her initial hesitation about taking a break from work almost forgotten. Not entirely, though. She tried to grasp that mental note about emails to be sent, but the hand gripping her hips moved, and fingers slid to rub her nub, stroking and pushing her further towards her peak. She gave in and widened her thighs to let him fill her more. But it left her no time to prepare for the release that shattered her apart, her love for him and the physical pleasure fusing to intensify the sensations blasting through her. It threatened to overwhelm her, but Jamie's presence anchored her as he followed her over, groaning her name, gripping her hips with a fierceness as he claimed her for his. 

Moments later, he pulled her boneless body in his arms and tucked her into his chest, tugging the covers over them and curving his front to her back. He held her tightly as the morning light streamed through the windows. 

Battling to keep her eyes open, thoughts of work slithered in, but it kept flittering away with her consciousness before she could dwell on it. Maybe just for a minute, she thought. But Jamie smelled so good, and his tender strokes enticed a hazy sleep to claim her muscles, dragging her down into the dark. Just one minute. 

As she eased into sleep, his whisper drifted toward her unconscious. "It's still early, Sassenach. Sleep a wee bit more. Your wee surprise will come soon enough."

..........

Claire woke for the second time that morning with an unladylike shriek when the mattress dipped and moved. Muddled, she jackknifed into a sitting position, eyes scanning wildly around the curtain-dimmed room for a trespasser. Claire knew someone was there, her gut instinct telling her it wasn't Jamie. Summoning her eyes to refocus, she collapsed with relief when she realised who it was sat at the foot of the bed.

"Surprise!" Annalise squealed, clapping her hands.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" She swiped her bedraggled hair out of her face. "You scared me bloody witless."

"Bloody hell, you're jumpy." Annalise shifted a hip on the bed. "Jamie's bad dreams rubbing off on you now, are they?"

"That's not something to joke about," she glowered at her friend, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Annalise' smile waned a bit. "Hey, what's up? I'm not making fun of Jamie's nightmares, and you know that." Her shoulders slumped. "In case you don't know, bad dreams can happen to anyone. In fact, I had a bad dream a few days ago. I was being chased by a pirate."

Suddenly feeling bad for snapping at her friend, she mentally dispersed the sleep fog in her brain and gave Annalise an apologetic smile. So this was her surprise, she thought. Not that Claire wasn't happy to see her friend, but she'd expected Jamie's surprise to be a romantic weekend with him. She let out a sigh. "Chased by a pirate, huh? Let me guess ...sunken chest and no booty?"

Annalise perked up at Claire's feeble attempt to sound less grumpy. "Har de har har! I didn't realise you could be funny before coffee. A total package for a marauding pirate if I may say so."

"Tell that to Captain Beard," she mumbled, getting out of bed. 

"Aye, matey!" Annalise mischievously winked. "That's if he happens to be in Isle of Harris this weekend. Which is where, by the way, we're going, as in, now! So get packing!"

Claire stilled and shook her head. "Wot?" She began to shake her head, tugging the covers around her as she made her way to the dresser. "Oh no, no, no! I'm not leaving this place for any man or woman, including you, blondie! I've got a pile of work to do. You know I have deadlines."

"Oh no, you don't. You stop right there, missy! Have you forgotten you agreed with Jamie to take a weekend break?" 

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh, did he also tell you how he got me to agree?"

"No. But you can tell me later on the plane."

"Plane?" Claire dropped her face in her hands. "Oh, God, I can't believe I agreed to this. Jamie never told me anything."

Annalise stood up from where she was sitting and crossed her arms across her chest. "Hmmm, you don't look too happy to be spending time with me."

She puffed out a breath. "It's not that ..."

"We haven't had girly time in ages, Claire. Jamie thought it would do you a world of good to have a bit of fun."

"So now what? You and Jamie plotting and ganging up on me behind my back, is that it?" Claire accused. "What about Willie? Surely, you miss him more than me. When was the last time you saw him?"

Annalise grinned. "Don't worry about Willie. We have been doing a lot of catching up all night last night, and you want to know what he did?"

Claire's face crumpled in disgust as she held up a hand. "Oh, gross! Too much information. I don't want to hear about your sex life."

Annalise laughed out loud. "Fine, I won't discuss our sex life if you start packing now. Besides, you wouldn't want to waste the tickets Jamie worked so hard for, now, do you?"

Oh dear Lord, save me from well-meaning friends! She didn't really want to leave, but if Jamie had spent money organising this trip, she wasn't about to let it go to waste. But ... "How about uncle Lamb? He came to see me, and I can't just leave him."

"He knows all about the trip, and I've been told he's got a few excursions planned around the Highlands." 

"Oh, well ...if that's the case, I need to call Mary and John and let them know what I'm up to this weekend."

Annalise grinned. "Jamie's sorted it already."

"Wot?" she exclaimed with disbelief, her hands landing onto her hips. "Jamie's been planning this with you all along, hasn't he?" She shook her head. "I-I can't believe it!"

"You better believe it."

Claire blew out a breath of exasperation. "Fine! Grab my suitcase. It's in the airing cupboard."

"Yay!" Annalise whirled on her feet and pumped her fist in the air. Claire couldn't help but smile as enthusiasm began to wiggle its way through her system. Maybe Jamie was right. She owed it to herself to have a break, and probably a change of scenery was what she needed. After Mary had delivered the goods, Claire had worked herself to the bone all week and sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. She was already in her second round of edits on the extensive manuscripts Mary had submitted and must admit they were indeed making progress. As for Tom, her job with him was done, and the team organised by John should be arriving next week. It was definitely time for a bit of fun. 

On second thoughts, though it was generous of Jamie to arrange the trip, it would have been nice if he could come along too. But the idea of Jamie's condition worsening with something as simple as weekend trips away brought a feeling of melancholy to descend upon her. She had no doubt Jamie would be cured, and they'd be able to travel together one day, so she forced herself to shake off the momentary bout of wistfulness when Annalise came bounding back with her small suitcase.

"So ...you talked to Jamie. Where is he, by the way?" she asked, grabbing clothes from the dresser and throwing them in the bed. "He left early this morning."

"Oh! Jamie said he needed to be somewhere important, and he'll see you when we return. Willie will be driving us to the airport." When Claire frowned, Annalise came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, we'll only be away for two days, and you'll see him again Sunday night."

It was apparent to Claire she'd been at a disadvantage waking up to the news of the weekend trip because if Jamie had suggested it a few days ago, she would have definitely put her foot down and refused. Unfortunately, Annalise and Jamie knew her too well; hence they'd planned this trip in secrecy.

Claire absorbed that for a few heartbeats and felt a tad of guilt. It had been a while she'd spent time with Annalise, and once her job was done in London, she'd be living with Jamie. Plus, who knew when she'd have another chance to hang out with her best friend ...just the two of them and in the Isle of Harris at that. Besides, they always had a great time together. There was no sense in spoiling their spontaneous weekend with her stubbornness. She might as well make the most of it.

Claire turned to face her friend and smiled. "Do I have time to shower?"

"Plenty of time," Annalise beamed. "While you get ready, I'll make some coffee. I know what you're like without your cuppa first thing." And with that, she danced out of the room, whistling, leaving Claire to shake her head in amusement.

Later that morning, as they drove past the motorway exit for the airport, Claire shifted restlessly in the backseat of Willie's car, watching the familiar structure pass by in a blur outside her window. She frowned. Willie must have forgotten to take the turn. Uh oh! But before she could say anything, Willie veered to a different dual-carriageway. She tried to relax back into her seat, thinking there was probably a different route to the airport she didn't know of.

Eventually, they pulled to a stop in front of a building that didn't resemble a terminal, but there was an airfield and a charter plane coming out of the hangar. When Willie stepped out of the car, a man with worn jeans, a black leather jacket and a pair of aviators waved. He looked kind of familiar, but Claire was unsure.

"Who is that?" Claire asked quietly.

Annalise followed her line of vision. "Oh, I thought you knew that guy." She frowned when Claire shook her head and squinted to get a better look. "I was told the guy flying our plane was the soon to be famous Highlands' ultimate guide to Scotland." As if on cue, the man removed his aviators and started walking towards their car, a smile plastered to his unshaven face. When he waved at them, Annalise giggled, and Claire's eyes widened in confusion. "You probably can't recognise him from afar ...it's your author, Tom Christie," Annalise announced with a satisfied smile and to her utmost shock. "He's flying us to Stornoway."

What the bloody hell? Jamie arranged this?

 Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your readership and the feedback from the previous chapter. I'm super thrilled a lot of you enjoyed it after what I put you all through with Jamie and Claire's roller-coaster journey. I hope it was worth it all in the end.

Speaking of the end, the next chapter will be the last for this arc, and after taking a break, I will start arc three of the WONDERWALL series. I'll keep you updated here. Meanwhile, feel free to speculate what the next chapter will be. Until my next update, wishing you all good health and vibes. X

[commentaryvorg]

Digimon Savers Commentary Episode 11 - Bring Back the Bond Between Father and Son! Evilmon’s Bewitchment!

In this episode, the father of a friend of Masaru’s is suffering from a gambling problem, causing a rift in their father-son relationship – something Masaru is very invested in fixing. Fortunately, this problem happens to be being exacerbated by a Digimon’s involvement, so Masaru is able to help.

Following on from the conversation Tohma and Satsuma had at the end of last episode, about how the Digimon appearances might be related to human emotions, this episode begins on Tohma asking Satsuma for some time off to research this further. Though, really, since he’s doing research that directly relates to his work at DATS, this shouldn’t be considered “time off” and should be a fully-funded business trip.

The next morning, the rest of the DATS members are discussing the fact that Tohma’s disappeared off to America.

Masaru:  “Why’s he the only one who gets a vacation?!”

Yoshino:  “I wonder how easy-going he can get…”

…which apparently Satsuma has officially logged as a vacation and isn’t even bothering to tell his subordinates that Tohma’s doing some important research there. Geez, Satsuma.

Though, Masaru, I don’t know why you’re so mad. Vacations are nice, sure, but do you get to fight Digimon on one? Not usually.

Agumon:  “So, what’s this America? Is it tasty?”

Agumon, as ever, has his priorities straight. And is still pretty new to how the human world works. What are “countries”.

Today appears to be a slow day at DATS, giving us a glimpse of some of the casual banter and interactions between the members when there’s not a Digimon emergency. Miki and Megumi come over, offering to share some manju – a type of Japanese sweet made of bean paste – that they bought from Kyoto. Except the box turns out to be empty.

Agumon:  “Yeah, I already ate those.”

Agumon is really brazen about admitting this, seemingly not realising he shouldn’t have. Apparently his aniki has not yet taught him about not taking things that aren’t yours, no matter how hungry you are.

Megumi:  “Agumon-chan, follow me for a second.”

Megumi displays some very threatening politeness. She and Miki are Not Happy; this type of manju was very rare and hard to get hold of. They demand that Agumon should take responsibility and make up for this somehow.

Agumon:  “The follower’s failures are his aniki’s failures. Aniki’ll take responsibility for me!”

Well. There are certain situations in which I would enthusiastically agree that this should absolutely be how things work. But that shouldn’t quite extend to situations in which the s—ahem, follower has actively done something wrong that they need to take responsibility for and learn from.

Though in some sense this is still partly Masaru’s responsibility anyway. He did assert back in the first episode that he’ll be responsible if Agumon rampages. That was him accepting the responsibility to look after Agumon and teach him how to behave in the human world so he doesn’t cause any trouble. Since this incident appears to have happened because Agumon genuinely didn’t realise that it’s not okay to eat other people’s food without their permission, it is kind of a bit on Masaru for not having taught him that yet.

Not that that doesn’t mean that Agumon also needs to accept he did something wrong and promise to do better in future, which he is absolutely trying to get out of right now by saying this and isn’t really thinking about that initial promise Masaru made at all (which he wasn’t even there for).

Masaru:  “Huh? Me?!”

And for his part, Masaru doesn’t seem to have picked up on the fact that this happened because Agumon didn’t know better and is therefore partly his fault, so he’s bewildered to hear that this supposedly even falls under his aniki’s responsibility.

But he gets over it pretty quickly, because conveniently it turns out that he happens to be friends with a guy whose dad runs a famous manju store here in town, so he can just go and get some more for them, easy. (Who knows what Masaru would have done if he hadn’t been friends with this guy – but then, this whole mishap was just setup for this episode dealing with that manju store, so of course things worked out this way.)

Masaru:  “I’ll buy Japan’s best manju there for you.”

Masaru is never one to undersell anything. This manju store may or may not actually be better than the fancy one in Kyoto that the ladies originally bought some from, but it’s at least well-liked enough for Masaru to be able to insist that its manju is totally the best ever.

Or, well, the best in Japan, which is amusingly like how Masaru calls himself the best street fighter in Japan. I bet that’s on purpose. The dork.

Masaru:  “It doesn’t matter how popular they are. They’ll make 10 or 20 manju for me whenever I ask.”

Masaru must be on pretty good terms with his friend there if he’s this sure they’ll be willing to do him a favour.

He shows up at the store, only to find its owner, Shiratori, being harassed by a loan shark and his muscle-bound thug for not being able to pay what he owes them. As things escalate to threats of physical violence, Masaru steps in and grabs the thug’s arm.

Thug:  “Who’s that?”

Masaru:  “Just a customer who came here to buy manju.”

I love how Masaru’s not even approaching this as Japan’s number one street fighter Daimon Masaru-sama. He’s totally just an ordinary guy who wants some manju and would really like it if these dudes would stop harassing the one who can make it for him.

Masaru throws the thug to the ground effortlessly, despite the guy being significantly larger and heavier than him.

Masaru:  “You’re making the manju lose their flavour! Get lost!”

Masaru is great. Knowing him, he really did this not just because he wants some manju but more because he can’t stand people using their strength to attack someone weaker than them who can’t and doesn’t want to fight back. But nah, it’d be a waste of his breath here to tell those jerks that or act like it’s about anything but the manju.

Seeing that they’re out-muscled, the loan shark and his thug run off.

Shiratori: “Thank you very much.”

Masaru:  “Nah, they just looked like troublemakers…”

He’s so casual about it, too. Driving off troublemakers who are intimidating the vulnerable is basically just Tuesday for Masaru.

Shiratori’s son, Koichiro, shows up – this is the friend Masaru was talking about.

Shiratori: “Koichiro, do you know him?”

Koichiro:  “Yeah, he’s my friend. It’s been a while. What’s up, Masaru?”

Though it seems, from the fact that he’s never directly introduced Masaru to his dad before and that they haven’t spoken in a while, that they’re not super close friends or anything. Still, based on the fact that Masaru expected Koichiro to be willing to get him manju for free if he asks, they must be on reasonably good terms.

Koichiro doesn’t especially seem like the kind of guy you’d expect Masaru to be drawn to making friends with. He looks pretty ordinary, maybe a little nerdy, nothing like the reckless fighty person Masaru is. You’d also think that an ordinary person like Koichiro wouldn’t be drawn to being friends with Masaru, either. Masaru’s street fighter reputation probably makes most of his schoolmates kind of intimidated by him, if they don’t know him well enough to realise that actually he’s just a big ridiculous dork who wouldn’t hurt you unless you were looking for a fight.

So my headcanon for how these two know each other and consider each other friends is that Masaru once defended Koichiro from bullies, and Koichiro’s felt indebted to him ever since. It’d follow that they wouldn’t have ended up super close friends because of this if they otherwise don’t really have any interests in common, but it would at least have led to them caring about and respecting each other to the point of an unspoken agreement that Masaru can get free manju from Koichiro’s place every now and then.

(Protecting people from bullies is, of course, absolutely the kind of thing Masaru would use his fighting abilities for, whenever he saw the opportunity to do so. We literally just saw him do the same thing to help Koichiro’s dad out just now.)

Away from his dad, Koichiro sadly explains to Masaru that they’re not able to make him any manju right now. Although their store was featured on TV a few months ago and was briefly popular, the rush ended quickly, and on top of things his mom got sick and they had to close, which made business even slower after they re-opened. Now his dad’s lost his motivation and doesn’t want to make manju any more.

Masaru:  “But in the past, he looked like he had a lot of fun making sweets…”

While Masaru hasn’t been properly introduced to Koichiro’s dad before, he has apparently at least seen him work while visiting the shop in the past. It is very, very Masaru that, despite barely being acquainted with Shiratori himself, he would still have noticed and remembered something like this about his friend’s father.

Agumon:  [from the Digivice] “We can’t go back until we get Japan’s best manju, Aniki.”

Koichiro:  “Huh?”

Masaru:  “Ah, nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

Yes, Masaru, very convincing. Do you always call yourself Aniki when thinking out loud?

(It really doesn’t matter because Koichiro is a one-off character who’s going to get memory-wiped about Digimon at the end of this episode, but I wonder if he totally noticed something was weird about that and yet decided to trust his friend and not pry into it if Masaru obviously wasn’t willing to share. You’d kinda have to be an idiot to buy Masaru’s claim, and Koichiro doesn’t seem like one.)

Masaru:  “I’ve got to do something to encourage the old man and make him bring back the Shiratori manju!”

Koichiro:  “But…”

Masaru:  “Don’t worry. Just leave everything to the great Daimon Masaru-sama!”

It’s very cute how Masaru is getting all grandiose and “arrogant” about himself in a context like this, which isn’t even about fighting, just about persuading a guy to make sweets again. And it’s also neat that he’s willing to do so at a friend of his, who isn’t complaining or exasperated about him acting this way at all. It sort of feels like a bit of an in-joke between them – maybe Masaru actually presented himself that way when first defending Koichiro from bullies, and Koichiro quickly learned that it really isn’t Masaru being arrogant and self-absorbed and is more just him being a ridiculous dork who always tries to do the right thing in his over-the-top way.

Meanwhile, Shiratori has retreated to a storage shed behind his house, still worrying about those loan sharks and desperately looking for something he can sell for money.

Shiratori:  “I need money!”

[a Digital Gate opens up in the floor; Evilmon and three PicoDevimon appear through it]

Evilmon:  “Need money!”

This would be me doing my usual thing of pointing out, hey, look, it’s just echoing his words, this Digimon isn’t lucid or thinking for itself at all. But, uhh… that’s going to be the only example of that this episode. Stay tuned for me complaining about this later.

Also, there’s an old-timey radio in the shed that starts flickering just before the gate opens, again potentially implying that electronic devices have something to do with making these gates open, and again I assert that’s definitely not the main point. As has been made pretty apparent by now, the gates are really opening because Digimon are being drawn to this world in response to human emotions, such as Shiratori’s desperation for money here.

I suppose, since the show has so often made a point of these electronic devices acting up, it could be possible that something electronic needs to be nearby in order to facilitate the gate opening, because something something digital something? But the devices are very definitely not the initial cause of it.

Evilmon’s eyes glow purple, and then there’s this shot of Shiratori’s eyes going weird, implying he’s not just freaking out at it but is actually being, like, hypnotised or brainwashed or something. However, despite the “bewitchment” in the title of this episode, I really don’t think this is supposed to be the deal here. It is the humans who influence the Digimon, and not the other way around. That is how this works.

If this episode were an exception for some reason because I dunno Evilmon is just evil or something, it should actually mention somewhere in the episode later on that it’d been hypnotising Shiratori, which it won’t. It would also simply be unwise for the writers to suddenly have an exception to the usual rule right here when we’ve finally got to the point of explicitly establishing the rule at all, because that’d make it way too easy for people to get the wrong end of the stick. So I’m glad that the implied hypnotising thing is kept to this one shot that can easily be glossed over or interpreted like he’s just freaking out and nothing else.

Now that it’s Masaru’s turn for one of these sorts of filler episodes, here’s his opening shot of Agumon’s evolutions. This one was harder to get a decent single screenshot of, since, being the last and longest of such shots of the trio (because Masaru is firmly the central protagonist), it has some actual animation on Masaru, Agumon and GeoGreymon to give it extra emphasis.

Back at DATS HQ, it’s still a slow day, and Miki and Megumi are wondering why their manju is taking so long to get here.

Miki:  “That Masaru… when he comes back, he’ll be severely punished.”

Don’t tell me you actually bought Agumon’s deflection of responsibility and decided that this really was 100% Masaru’s fault, Miki.

They notice a very brief Digimon signal on their monitors, but then it disappears quickly enough that they wonder if it was nothing but static. Evilmon entered a dormant state almost as soon as it showed up and currently looks like a statue. For once, this is a fairly reasonable handwave as to why the DATS detection equipment isn’t letting them immediately rush in and solve the problem.

Megumi also notes that it was detected in the area where the manju shop is, but since they don’t know they’re living in a Digimon anime that is currently having a Manju-Themed Episode, they have no reason to assume this means anything. From an in-universe perspective, this appears to be just a coincidence.

Miki:  “We ended up having no snacks today.”

Yoshino:  “Kurosaki-san, don’t be so bitter.”

Miki:   [irritably] “Did I hear something?”

Yoshino:  “Oh, nothing! Since I’m a little worried, I’ll go patrolling in Sector C!”

A little glimpse into the dynamic between Yoshino and the computer ladies here. Yoshino uses Miki’s surname with a -san, whereas back in episode 8 they just called her “Yoshino”, so it seems like she feels junior to them. They probably are a bit older than her, although it doesn’t look like it’d be by too many years.

This also kind of explains why Miki and Megumi called Yoshino “meek” back in episode 8. While Yoshino is really actually quite far from meek when it comes to putting up with Masaru and Tohma’s nonsense, it seems like in this sort of girls-only context, she is kind of meek and not especially comfortable being on the receiving end of Miki and Megumi’s frustration. She is after all kind of outnumbered in that context by the other two, who always seem to act as a pair.

(Maybe they remind Yoshino a bit of her older sisters. She has two older sisters, and we will get a little into her relationship with them in a later episode.)

Sector C is specifically the place where they detected the static and where the manju shop is, so what Yoshino means when she says this is that she’s going to see what the hell’s taking Masaru so long (and if there is any Digimon activity there).

Back at the manju store, Shiratori has taken some money that’s meant to be for this month’s bills, despite Koichiro’s protests, and driven off with it with a kind of fervent desperation.

Masaru:  “What’s happened to your old man? He’s acting kinda weird…”

Koichiro explains that he must have gone to gamble again, which is why they’ve gotten into so much debt with the loan sharks. Koichiro doesn’t explicitly say so, but this gambling is most likely something his dad fell into during his depression after his wife was ill and the store stopped getting many visitors.

Masaru:  “I see. But there’s something else…”

Masaru is presumably picking up on the fact that there was something weird about Shiratori’s behaviour that wasn’t just his gambling addiction – something that subtly indicated that he’d just seen a monster appear out of the ground in front of him a few moments ago. Though it’s actually kind of surprising for Masaru to be noticing something that has to be very subtle like this. As we went over last episode, he can often be kinda bad at picking up on others’ feelings.

(This better not be an attempt at hinting that he’s picking up on Shiratori being hypnotised. No. That’s not what’s happening.)

Yoshino drives up, just here to ask if Masaru has got the manju – and Masaru sees this as the perfect opportunity for Yoshino to be his driver, so he hops right into the passenger’s seat.

Masaru:  “C’mon, go after that car!”

Yoshino:  “Go after *which* car?”

Yoshino is so exasperatedly confused. She came here to bring back that manju already, not to let Masaru drag her onto some weird wild goose chase he’s decided to follow.

And also, yes, which car, because Shiratori’s car is out of sight by now. I guess Masaru knows the general direction it went, and also that he’s headed to gamble, so between that and him recognising the car, they should be able to end up in the right place eventually.

Koichiro:  “Masaru?”

Koichiro is left staring after him as they drive off, probably wondering in bewilderment how his friend knows this young woman in a strange uniform and an official-looking car.

Meanwhile at some university campus, Tohma is meeting up with a professor who seems to know him. It was Stockholm where he studied and got his degree, but he’s apparently in America right now. I guess it could just be that this professor moved universities since Tohma studied under him?

Masaru and Yoshino have made it to the horse racetrack that Shiratori headed to, but it’s crowded and they have no idea where to find him. As the race begins, back in Shiratori’s shed, the three PicoDevimon stop pretending to be statues and teleport away to the racetrack. Seems some Digimon can just teleport, which actually could explain how Soulmon got to the boat so fast last episode.

Shiratori is betting on three specific horses to win, so the PicoDevimon are here to cheat for him, spurring those horses to run faster by firing their Pico Darts at them. They’re not invisible, and yet somehow absolutely nobody in the huge crowd watching this race is going to see this happening.

PicoDevimon #1: “Pick your animal.”

PicoDevimon #2 and #3: “Sir! Yes, sir!”

What bothers me more about this is the fact that the PicoDevimon are speaking. They’re consciously aware of the fact that they’re here to help these three horses win, and they even have a hierarchy, with one of them being the leader and the other two answering to him. They seem fully in control of their actions.

Which is not how this is meant to work! BomberNanimon aside – but I can let that one slide a little bit more because that entire Digimon encounter was silly and extraneous to the episode anyway – none of the other “rampaging” Digimon we’ve seen up until now have come across as anything other than wild beasts, vague forces of nature acting on a certain human or humans’ thoughts without thinking for themselves. It’s a really interesting concept that’s been pretty deliberately set up by the writers, so it’s disappointing to me that on the last of these episodes that exists to set up this concept of how humans influence Digimon, they drop this entirely and get really lazy with it.

As the PicoDevimon are causing their mischief, Lalamon pipes up from the Digivice that she can sense a Digimon’s presence.

Yoshino:  “Where?”

Lalamon:  “I don’t know… There are too many people here for me to pinpoint…”

I guess this is a reasonable handwave as to why she can’t immediately lead them to the problem, though it still doesn’t really explain why nobody can see the PicoDevimon flying around somewhere above the horses.

Agumon:  “I don’t feel anything… Aniki, I’m hungry!”

This line serves to, uh, sort of explain why we’ve almost never seen Agumon having these same Digimon-sensing skills that Lalamon has, if his hunger is a factor that can get in the way of it. After all, he’s hungry pretty much all the time!

Despite a brief mishap, the PicoDevimon succeed in getting Shiratori’s three horses to nab the top three spots in the race, and then they disappear, back to pretend to be a statue in his shed.

Lalamon:  “It disappeared! I can’t sense it any more!”

Yoshino:  “Something’s odd. Let’s go back to HQ and investigate this.”

At this point, having detected blips of Digimon signal near the manju store and then at the racetrack, they should have enough information to realise that this might be connected to Shiratori, because he’s the common thread between both places. But alas, since this is Masaru’s designated “a one off character I know is having Digimon issues” episode, just like episodes 8 and 9 were for Yoshino and Tohma, Yoshino is not going to actually get to show her investigative skills and figure that out.

Masaru:  “I’ll stay here. I made a promise. Until I find the old man and get him to make manju, I won’t go back!”

I feel like this is only partly about his promise to Miki and Megumi to get them the manju – they ought to be professional enough that they’d rather he help them with this case than mess around trying to get them their sweets. It’s probably more at this point about the fact that Masaru promised Koichiro he’d help, after seeing how down he was about his dad being like this.

Yoshino:  “Hey, do you understand what you’re saying here?”

Masaru:  “A man doesn’t go back on his word!”

Of course that’s a part of Masaru’s concept of manliness! Keep your promises to people! Don’t say something in the first place if you don’t absolutely intend to follow through on it! It’s such an actually genuinely healthy concept of manliness.

Agumon:  “Lookin’ good, Aniki!”

[Masaru strikes a cocky pose]

Lalamon:  “Let’s go, Yoshino.”

Yoshino:  “Yeah. I can’t deal with any more stupidity.”

…Though I don’t blame Yoshino for having had enough of Masaru’s ridiculousness. From the outside, this does just look like Masaru being unreasonably stubborn about getting hold of some sweets.

Meanwhile with Tohma, he appears to be doing some kind of experiments in human emotion, having test subjects engage in different activities while a machine on their head is presumably measuring how they’re feeling or something. I suppose that, sure, we can imagine that in this universe it’s possible to measure emotion like this. But still, since Tohma is supposed to be investigating the effect of human emotion on Digimon, or vice versa, you’d think he wouldn’t be able to get very far without involving Digimon in the experiments – but there aren’t any. I don’t think his professor even knows about Digimon; Gaomon isn’t out.

Also, look, they are wearing lab coats, because they are doing SCIENCE, you guys. That’s definitely how lab coats work. Never mind the fact that this experiment doesn’t remotely have any chance of contaminating their clothes – it wouldn’t be science if they didn’t wear them!

Miki:  “A Digimon signal hasn’t been detected.”

Megumi:  “Except for the static when Yoshino left for patrol, nothing has been confirmed today.”

You’d think that DATS’s Digimon signal detectors should be better than Lalamon’s vague sense for it – we know that DATS can usually detect Digimon at long-range – so I don’t know why DATS didn’t pick up on the PicoDevimon when Lalamon did. These signal detection methods are continuing to be very plot-dependent.

Satsuma:  “Yoshino. Keep an eye on Sector C where the static first appeared.”

At the very least, Satsuma is deciding to take this seriously and not write it off as meaningless static and Lalamon being mistaken. Just like he immediately bought into the thing with Chika’s words coming true last episode instead of writing it off as ridiculous nonsense. I appreciate his professionalism.

That night, Shiratori is in his shed, praying to the Evilmon-PicoDevimon statue that he’s created a bit of a shrine around.

Shiratori: “It’s all thanks to you, God of Good Fortune!”

He doesn’t seem to be aware that the race was literally cheated for him; he just thinks that Evilmon is some kind of god who’s magically made him lucky. (Though, if a god of luck decides to help out one particular gambler, that should still basically count as cheating in a sense. Just less obviously fraudulent.)

It’s a little unclear whether Evilmon outright told him it was a god of good fortune when it appeared. All we saw was the moment it showed up, and then it cut to Shiratori rushing off to the racetrack and pretending nothing had happened. Possibly Evilmon actually told him he’d be able to win with its help. But it’s also possible that Evilmon immediately became a silent statue, then Shiratori, realising it wasn’t going to hurt him, shrugged and headed off to gamble only slightly freaked out – and then when he actually won for the first time in forever, he concluded that it must have been because of this thing that appeared to him beforehand and decided it was a god.

I’d rather go with the latter option, because the less talking and thinking for itself Evilmon does, the less frustrated I am with this aspect of the episode.

Shiratori: “Please lend me your power once again! I beg you!”

He’s already got enough money to pay off his debts to the loan sharks from this one win, so really Shiratori doesn’t need to gamble again and could go back to happily making manju without any more stress. But nope, it seems like he’s just got a real problem with gambling, and this win has only made him more addicted to getting to feel that way again.

Thus ensues a brief montage of more gambling, the PicoDevimon continuing to cheat for him behind the scenes and Shiratori grinning increasingly fanatically over larger and larger piles of cash. A few days presumably pass during this – Tohma’s going to arrive back from his trip at the end of this episode, so these events need to span long enough to believably last as long as one would expect Tohma’s experiments to take, which is, I dunno, maybe like a week or so? (Speaking as an Actual Scientist: really, though it depends on the experiment, I feel like such experiments would be likely to take way more than a week to properly complete and finalise the results in. But this is fictional science, which is very rarely any good at being realistic.)

Masaru is still hanging around the manju store. I guess he really has kept his promise of not going back to DATS until he fixes this problem. Meanwhile, I guess DATS still hasn’t managed to pick up any signals from the PicoDevimon for some reason (because the plot says so, shush), and Evilmon has kept being a statue, so it’s a slow week over there and they probably don’t miss Masaru that badly anyway.

Koichiro:  “My dream to run our Japanese sweet store… I’ve already given it up.”

Masaru:  “Well, I won’t! I’m not leaving until he’s made manju for me!”

Koichiro:  “Even if you say that, I think it’ll be impossible to fulfil.”

Masaru:  “No, it won’t! It’s the end once you give up!”

I don’t think this is really about the manju to Masaru any more. It’s about not wanting to let his friend give up, because that’s just not something that Masaru himself ever, ever does. And he especially can’t let his friend give up on his dream to be just like his dad.

Shiratori drives up in a fancy sports car, wearing expensive-looking new clothes. Dude, do you not think that if the authorities noticed an owner of a humble sweet store that has been out of business for weeks suddenly driving a car like this, they might consider that something fishy is up?

Koichiro:  “Can you really afford an expensive car like this?”

Koichiro seems to still be well in the mindset of “we barely have any money; we can’t waste it”, not realising that his dad has actually been winning all of his gambling for the past several days. If he knew that, that’d also be a clue to Masaru that something’s up and maybe it really is a Digimon. But that’s not the angle that the writers want Masaru to take this episode, for very good reasons, so Shiratori just isn’t directly mentioning that he’s been winning.

Shiratori ignores the boys’ pleas to get back to making sweets and insists that he’d much rather gamble, shoving some money at them while he’s at it to drive the point home. It’s probably still quite easy for Koichiro to assume that his dad’s fallen further into denial and has only done this by borrowing even more from dangerous loan sharks.

Koichiro has a very angry, bitter look on his face as his dad drives off. Going by that look, it doesn’t seem like he has given up on his dream of making sweets like his dad does, not really. Maybe Masaru has intuitively picked up on this and that’s part of why he’s still trying to help – if there’s one thing he would be good at picking up on like that, it’d be a person’s determination (to be like their dad) – but even if he hasn’t, of course he’d still be encouraging Koichiro not to give up anyway.

Masaru and Koichiro go and hang out at a riverbank and talk about this – maybe Koichiro wanted to get away from the manju store and the complicated feelings it gives him right now. Koichiro explains that he tried making some manju himself yesterday, but it was a lot harder than it looks to bake it in the bird-shaped mould and not have it fall apart. (Shiratori means “white bird”, and since their manju is named after the family name, they make it bird-shaped to match, which is cute.)

Koichiro:  “Dad made it look easy. It just shows how good he is… He looked really cool when he was working.”

Koichiro really looks up to his dad! (or did, before all this gambling stuff ruined everything.) Masaru is watching him attentively as he talks about this. He can absolutely relate.

Masaru:  “‘Dad’, huh?”

As he says this with a kind of pained, wistful look, Masaru clutches at his pendant – the pendant that he’s always been wearing, all the time. A pendant that keen-eyed people might also remember seeing around his dad’s neck in the Daimon family photo we saw in episode 7. Masaru received that pendant from his dad before he disappeared, and he’s clung to it ever since as a symbol of his missing father.

Masaru’s dad disappeared ten years ago, when Masaru was four. It’s been a long, long time since he’s seen him, but that doesn’t mean his feelings about his father have faded one bit.

Koichiro:  “So, this is it, Masaru. Since I can’t make them myself, just give up on the Shiratori manju.”

Masaru:  “I told you, I won’t give up.”

There’s absolutely no way this is about the manju any more. Like the title of this episode indicates, this is about Masaru wanting to fix Koichiro’s relationship with his father. Masaru knows better than anyone what it feels like to look up to your father like he’s the best person in the world, and he’s not going to let anyone else lose that. This isn’t even especially because Koichiro is his friend at this point – of course that helps, but Masaru would be invested in doing this for anyone he saw was having troubles like this with their dad.

Masaru’s extremely strong and complicated feelings about his father, and his father’s absence, have given him a very big case of what I like to call a “dad complex”, which is one of my favourite things about his character. This episode, the first one that really starts to explore it – though episode 7 had a few brief moments of it, too – felt like the most appropriate time for me to explicitly introduce this concept in the commentary. Get ready, because I am going to be talking a lot about Masaru’s dad complex as we continue through the series.

Anyway, with his renewed determination to do something about this, Masaru asks Koichiro about the “God of Good Fortune” that Shiratori mentioned when he showed up in his car earlier. This leads to the two of them investigating Shiratori’s storage shed, despite Koichiro not being allowed in there.

Upon seeing the statue, Masaru really ought to be able to figure that maybe this is some kind of Digimon. He even flicks Evilmon on the nose and gets a yelp of pain, which he somehow assumes was Agumon from the Digivice. Come on, Masaru, even if you don’t recognise this species, you know Digimon are a thing, you know this is an option, it would begin to explain the weird way Shiratori’s been behaving lately.

(Maybe it doesn’t cross his mind because he’s mentally in This Is About Dads mode right now, which feels like an entirely different part of Masaru’s life than the Digimon stuff he’s been doing lately. Hah. Little does he know.)

As Masaru inspects the statue, realising that it spoke but somehow still not picking up that this probably means it’s a Digimon, Shiratori rushes in and insists that they get away from his precious God of Good Fortune.

Masaru:  “I don’t need that weird statue thing. I just wanted to see it because it looked suspicious.”

Masaru, come on, how have you not realised it’s obviously a Digimon yet. You do need this statue, because it is your job to turn it into an egg and send it back to the Digital World.

Koichiro asks his dad why he won’t make sweets again, and Shiratori manically insists that he has money now, so he doesn’t need to work any more and can mess around doing whatever he wants.

Masaru mentioned earlier that Shiratori seemed to really enjoy making sweets, which means he should want to do so just for the love of it, regardless of money. But it seems like in his fanatic gambling spiral, and perhaps also the slump that preceded it, Shiratori’s kind of forgotten that.

Masaru:  “Hold it! There are things you can never get with money! You can’t buy hope with money! You can’t just buy a kid’s dreams with cash!”

Masaru is so good. This is about so much more to him than something like money. And look at that fervently determined expression – he’s not just doing this to help his friend, he is personally invested in this kind of thing, so much.

(…I mean, technically, when a kid’s living in a poor enough family that they’re constantly worried about just getting by, enough money for financial stability is definitely a good start in helping them have hope and pursue their dreams. But that’s not what Masaru’s talking about; he only means that having this excessively much money doesn’t make a difference.)

(Masaru himself isn’t familiar with the feeling of not having enough money like Koichiro is, because the Daimon family seems reasonably well-off… despite Sayuri being a single mother who doesn’t even appear to have a job. I can’t really talk about how I think that’s possible just yet, but I will find an excuse to do so in a later episode once more things have been established.)

Masaru:  “Koichiro’s dream is to follow in your footsteps and make Japanese sweets! And yet, here you are trying to crush his dream! Children grow up watching their parents’ backs! So, you know… That’s why parents can’t turn their backs on their children’s dreams!”

This whole speech is great and delightful and so very transparently Masaru projecting his own feelings onto this other family’s issues. I love Masaru’s dad complex.

The “Children grow up watching their parents’ backs!” in particular is my favourite part that I want to draw special attention to – because we will hear this exact sentiment from Masaru in a very important moment, much, much later on in the series. The writers definitely knew where they were going with this and what they were alluding to when they wrote this episode.

Even from just here, there’s something very telling about the way that Masaru describes kids looking up to their parents as watching their backs, which is the part of them you’d see if they were walking away.

The rest of this speech is about him asserting that parents ought to be there to help fulfil their kids’ dreams, which you’d think might be him projecting some kind of resentment about his own dad having left him. But, knowing Masaru’s dad complex and where the rest of the series is going with this, I don’t believe that’s actually it.

Masaru misses his father terribly, but he never seems to actually resent him for leaving. Remember the promise mentioned in episode 2 that the remaining Daimons apparently made to one another: to tell each other everything until Masaru’s dad comes back. Sayuri, for her own reasons, has always been pretty sure that her husband will be back one day, so she’s managed to talk about it in a way that lets her children believe it too and feel reasonably assured that their father didn’t just up and abandon them. Masaru has been very determined to keep believing that as he grew up. It’s not his dad’s fault; it can’t be.

All I think that’s going on here is Masaru expressing his belief that, if a kid’s father can be there for his kid’s dreams like Masaru’s own dad somehow can’t for reasons definitely beyond his control, then he absolutely should be. No kid deserves the pain of not being able to fulfil their father-related dreams, so no father should be callously choosing to take that away from their kids when they could just as easily choose not to.

Unfortunately, Shiratori is in too much of a gambling-obsessed fervour for any of Masaru’s impassioned dad-complex-projection to get through to him, and he simply snaps.

Shiratori: “Who gives a damn about dreams?! This store can be destroyed for all I care!”

…Whoops. That’s not the kind of thing you should say when there’s a Digimon nearby that’s being influenced by your emotions; we’ve learned this by now.

At this outburst of emotion, Evilmon grows larger, smashing its way through the roof of the shed. Shiratori’s “shrine” to his god happened to include his entire stack of ill-gotten gambling winnings in front of it, right next to some candles. Guess what’s about to happen to his money.

Now that Evilmon is no longer a statue, Lalamon senses it very clearly from Yoshino’s car – I guess she’s out patrolling or something – and they head over to help. DATS HQ have also finally picked up the signal, not that Yoshino needed that when Lalamon could sense it anyway.

Digimon Analyser: “His special attack is Nightmare Shock. Those who are hit with it will have a nightmare they’ll never wake up from!”

Yeah, uh, keep this in mind for later in the fight.

Evilmon:  “Destroy it!”

PicoDevimon: “Destroy it!”

This bit alone could sound like they’re just doing the echoing thing here, but alas, no.

Evilmon:  “What selfish brats you are!”

PicoDevimon #1: “We’re just doing what we’re told!”

Masaru:  “What?”

PicoDevimon #1: “We’re destroying it because he said to destroy it!”

PicoDevimon #2: “We’re giving him money because he said he wanted it!”

PicoDevimon #3: “Man, you humans are so selfish!”

Because here they are, talking and thinking for themselves again.

We still don’t have any proper sense of why they apparently consciously chose to help out this one particular human and grant his somewhat sketchy wishes. It’s possible that, for some reason, these Digimon are slightly more able to voice what they’re doing in terms of mindlessly carrying out one human’s wishes. But then again, the comments calling Masaru and Agumon selfish for trying to interfere sound a lot more like actual people: they’re having an actual opinion on this situation and seem to believe they’re in the right. Or, at least, they’re being dicks enough to want to make it sound like they’re in the right even if they know they’re not.

It’s just weird and sticks out like a sore thumb when every other rampaging Digimon (lalala who’s BomberNanimon I can’t hear you) has not done this at all. You could sort of try to handwave that ehhhh this is because these particular Digimon species are usually “evil” or at best tricksters, which somehow gives them some resistance to the human-emotion-influence thing and makes them be partly doing this on purpose just to stir up trouble??? But that is definitely me grasping at very thin straws here.

Shiratori himself happens to be too busy scrambling to rescue his money from the fire to be able to think clearly and express that wait, no, maybe he doesn’t actually want his entire store (which is also his house) destroyed. In this particular case, since things are not working like they’re supposed to, grr, maybe the Digimon would actually have listened to him and stopped if he’d asked them to.

Yoshino and Lalamon show up in time for Lalamon to be helpful (hooray!), as Evilmon has grabbed Masaru in its hand and Lalamon fires off a Nuts Shoot to get it to drop him. She… doesn’t do much else in this fight – Lalamon appears to kind of panic and freak out when the PicoDevimon start attacking her. But still! She contributed!

Masaru gets his punch in, which involves climbing up some rubble onto the store’s rooftop to get high enough. That’s going to start being a running theme as the enemies he fights get larger and larger (when they don’t just resort to anime physics): Masaru finding creative ways to get high enough and close enough to punch.

Evilmon uses the aforementioned Nightmare Shock on GeoGreymon, surrounding him with a twisted aura and causing him to grimace and cry out in pain like he’s having a horrible nightmare… only for that image to shatter, and actually GeoGreymon is totally fine.

GeoGreymon:  “I won’t get fooled by something like that!”

Really? So much for “a nightmare they’ll never wake up from”. Apparently GeoGreymon gets to exert his Protagonist Power to not have to worry about that without making it interesting or a struggle. It’d have been really fun to see the kind of things GeoGreymon – Agumon – would have nightmares about! Probably being locked up alone and treated like a monster, with his aniki nowhere to be seen! I’d have loved to see him try and fight to overcome that! But it didn’t cross the writers’ minds that they could do something fun with this and I am sad.

(As it happens, we will see an enemy Digimon use an ability to trap its victims in inescapable nightmares in an upcoming episode, but that Digimon is not an Evilmon and its power to do that is not called Nightmare Shock, so I don’t know what’s up with this here.)

Also, for those watching along, did you notice something about this fight? No Believer, for the first time in an episode’s climactic battle! Now that we’re coming to the end of the series’ opening string of episodes before the main plot kicks in, they’re going to be saving Believer for some of the really significantly big moments coming up in the plot. This means not using it in every single episode, to give it more impact when it does show up. This is something I really appreciate about Savers’ use of its evolution song. I love Believer, but it would really stop feeling like it had any impact at all if we got used to hearing it all the time.

As the enemy Digimon are turned into eggs, Shiratori laments his burned money in the ruins of the storage shed, but the manju store itself ended up mostly undamaged. Koichiro tries once again to tell his dad that manju is more important to him than excessive piles of money, reasserting his dream to learn to make manju like him. This time, with the money gone, and perhaps in light of how much damage his obsession nearly caused, Shiratori finally listens.

Koichiro:  “I really want to make Japanese sweets for a living!”

Shiratori:  “Is that so…”

Koichiro:  “Dad…”

[Koichiro hugs him; his dad hugs back]

Shiratori: “Okay, I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you everything!”

Masaru watches this exchange – the son earnestly expressing just how much he wants to be like his dad, and the two of them hugging as the father promises to teach him everything – with this Look on his face, and I adore it. It means so much to Masaru to have been able to help with this. Even if it’s someone else’s dad and not his own, feeling this vicariously is the best he can do right now and he’s making the absolute most of it.

(Koichiro and his dad are presumably about to get their memories wiped about the whole Digimon thing. But like the ending of episode 9 implied, memories aren’t so insubstantial. The Digimon will be forgotten, but the important stuff will remain.)

The next morning, Masaru finally has some manju to deliver to Miki and Megumi, and they’re thrilled. Apparently it really is just as good as the expensive stuff from Kyoto that they missed out on thanks to Agumon.

Masaru:  “Because of the Digimon, these delicious manju were about to disappear forever.”

Yes, how dare those Digimon, depriving the world of delicious sweets. (Though really, the manju were in jeopardy because of Shiratori’s already-existing gambling problem, which the Digimon only made worse.)

Masaru:  “I figured it out! The Digimon may be appearing because they’re reacting to human greed.”

This is the only reason I can think of for why this episode had Evilmon and PicoDevimon think and speak for themselves: from a writing standpoint, it gives Masaru the chance to be able to figure this out. He’s straightforward enough that he wouldn’t have ever picked up on why this is happening without a Digimon outright telling him so.

But that shouldn’t have been necessary anyway, because as soon as Masaru says this, Tohma suddenly shows up back from his research trip with much more complete and carefully-studied findings about this issue that he’d already picked up on last episode. Masaru didn’t need to figure anything out on his own at all!

I do love the face he’s making at Tohma, though. He finally actually figured something out himself and contributed something useful that isn’t just fighting, but of course Tohma has to come along and upstage him by being way too frustratingly smart, as always.

Tohma:  “Please send out an emergency notification to all DATS divisions!”

Masaru:  “An emergency notification?!”

This is a little bit melodramatic – sure, it’s kinda important that they all know this, but it’s not exactly an emergency. That’s probably because this is the last line of the episode, and they wanted to make things dramatic for something vaguely resembling a cliffhanger, even though they’re just casually going to go into exposition at the beginning of the next one.

Overall thoughts

Well, if nothing else, this episode is definitely my favourite of the three “a one-off character connected to one of the main trio is having Digimon issues” episodes. Unlike how episodes 8 and 9 barely gave us any more insight into Yoshino and Tohma despite their investment in the character-of-the-week, this one gives us a lot of very nice insight into Masaru. Koichiro and his dad aren’t massively interesting in and of themselves and aren’t going to show up again, but what is far more interesting and relevant to the rest of the series is what Masaru’s response to this tells us about him. That’s what this kind of episode should be for, and this is the only one of the three that properly manages it.

So, of course, the best parts of this episode are how deeply invested Masaru gets in fixing his friend’s relationship with his father. You can pick up a lot about how Masaru feels about his own father from what is very clearly him projecting his feelings about fathers onto Koichiro’s situation, even though it’s really quite a different situation from Masaru’s, and even though Masaru never actually mentions his own dad once across the whole episode. It’s great. This will not be the only time Masaru does something like this. I love Masaru’s dad complex a lot.

The rest of this episode… eh, yeah, I’m not huge on it. The gambling storyline is very whatever and takes up more of the runtime than it probably needs to, and it frustrates me that Evilmon and PicoDevimon don’t fit how this human-emotions thing has otherwise been established to work, in the literal last episode before this phenomenon gets explained. Come on, writers, you’re better than this.

---

[Dub comparison]

[thenixkat]

HCs and OCs for a fic

Toyomitsu family: Descended from one of the first giant mutants in Japan. Tend to have monster or animal related transformation quirks in addition to being huge. Own farmland and forested areas all over the Kansai region. The family founded the Devil’s Market yakuza group which has been extremely long-running and focused on buying and selling illicit goods, general goods, and general supplies and labor for larger people. A Toyomitsu has been either the boss or first lieutenant of the Devil’s Market for as long as it’s existed. They had to move out of their Osaka base when All For One set up shop, their current main base of operations is in Esuha city. The family also runs a franchise of butcher shops across most of Japan under the name of Oni Meats which carries a vast selection of animal protein from around the world. Nearly all members of the family have prey drives from their monstrous transformations.

Ma- Manami- (Quirk) Bugbear- transformation quirk. If the user is sufficiently fat then they can transform into a hybrid bear/reptile monster. Has great senses and night vision as well as enhanced strength. Can induce fear by staring someone directly in the eyes. -->Prefers not to be involved with the less legal dealings of the family and Devil’s Market. She’s more than capable of being as much of if not more a terrifying mob boss than her little brother. She just likes farming better. -->Generally doesn’t look people in the eyes unless she doesn’t like them b/c her terror-inducing power stays active regardless of her form. She prefers not to scare folks who don’t deserve it. -->Gets on very well with her sister-in-law, if she wasn’t married she’d steal her brother’s wife. -->Met her husband in a fighting ring. She eviscerated him with her claws and he broke one of her arms and several of her ribs. They started talking while getting patched up. -->Is about 7’10” and built like a well-padded brick house. -->Is the one who judges new recruits into the gang. Tends to have them do farm work for at least a month to get a bead on their personalities.

Pa- Noel ‘Blue Devil’ Diablo nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Energy absorption- emitter quirk. Can absorb, temporarily store, and redirect kinetic/thermal/electric energy. Too much energy kept in the body for too long causes reckless and impulsive behavior and hyperactivity. Devil- mutant quirk. Has devil-like horns and a tail. -->Used to be a nomad b4 settling down with his strong beautiful wife. Supported himself on his travels with fighting, gambling, handyman skills, and musical skills. -->Brings nothing to the table in his household other than his good looks, good nature, and knack for fixing things and a broad range of skills. -->Holding in excess energy makes him glow blue, especially his horns. -->Loves his family just so much. Is the goofy dad and great flirty husband. -->Loved to carry his kids until they got waaaay too big for him to pick up. Stands on a char to talk to his kids and wife on their level. B/c they are just so damn tall. -->Is 6 ft tall with a strong build with very little body fat b/c of a side effect of his quirk. He gets cold easily b/c of this and it bothers his joints.

Grandpa- Ryuji ‘The Dragon/ Dread Emperor of Giants’ - (Quirk) Dragon- transformation quirk. Can transform into an eastern dragon or humanoid eastern dragon with the severity of the transformation depending on percentage of body fat. Can also control the weather. -->Controlling the weather means that his farms never have a bad year. He does sell this service on the black market through the Devil’s Market. -->Wanted to be a hero when he was young and stopped when his mom got sent to jail for vigilantism and murder for stopping a serial killer from preying on women in the community -->Retired after a betrayal from some too ambitious underlings lead to a crippling knee injury. Still acts as a source of wisdom for the family and the gang. -->Is the go-to babysitter. -->Prefers to be in his transformed state and hates the anti-public quirk use laws with a passion. -->His full dragon form is as long as a bus and can fly. His humanoid dragon form/human form (sans antlers) is 8’5”

Grandma- Akane- (Quirk) None. -->An ex-mercenary who beat Ryuji in his prime AND in his full dragon form with nothing but some rope and her bare hands. -->Very good with guns and knives -->Takes advantage of the fact that as a plump quirkless woman she tends to get overlooked by people with powers to end fuckers. -->Was the one who got rid of the over-ambitious underlings who attempted a coup against her husband. -->Is about 5’10”, very chubby, wears glasses, and is rather soft-spoken. -->Is an icon to the quirkless members of the Devil’s Market and teaches them how to fight people with powers.

Uncle- Wani ‘The Butcher’- (Quirk) Crocodilian- transformation quirk. Similar to grandpa but crocodile instead of dragon. Has a great sense of smell and hearing as well as night vision. Is bulletproof at full strength. -->A strong proponent of community defense to the point where more people came to him about community issues than go to police or heroes. He gets problems handled permanently. -->Also heavily invested in technology and occult studies to see if there was a way to make life easier for people -->Also prefers to be in his transformed state -->Caught and ate 3 quirk diagnosing doctors in the area who were trafficking children into human experimentation. Managed to rescue most of the kids. -->Was arrested and sent to Tartarus for a string of killing corrupt cops and heroes fucking around in his neighborhood. His family often visits him. -->Fell for his wife when she bet him she could drink him under the table with the loser paying the tab. She won. -->Is about 8 ft tall and at least half as wide b4 going to jail. In prison he rapidly lost weight, the family is planning a jailbreak.

Auntie- Jay ‘Jaybird/Hummingbird’ Johnson nee Toyomitsu- (Quirk) Fast Twitch- emitter quirk. A speedster type. Can move and think at superhuman speeds for a few minutes at a time every hour. Has a very high metabolism and needs to consume large amounts of food in general. -->Was a villain before settling down. Still pulls off a robbery every now and then and has a fondness for gems. -->A Black American who came to Japan to hide from law enforcement after a heist gone wrong. -->Thinks that the way people throw the word villain around to just about any fucker committing any kind of crime while using a quirk really dilutes the word. Thinks that villains need fun costumes and proper themes and intent. -->Her sister-in-law was one of the first women she’s ever met who never criticized her eating habits and she would kill for the other woman. Ride or die friendship. -->Is constantly hungry due to her speedster metabolism and has to eat a lot. -->About 5’8” and leggy with plenty of visible muscle.

Sister- Onini ‘Oni/Gargoyle’- (Quirk) Gargoyle- transformation quirk. Can transform into a stone-skinned gargoyle with the severity of the transformation being dependant on amount of body fat. Heat Sink- emitter quirk. Can absorb, store, and release thermal energy. -->Tried to become a hero but was bullied out of school -->Named after one of her mom’s friends -->Considers cousin Kenji to be effectively one of her brothers -->Became a firefighter and uses her quirks on the job even tho it’s illegal. Not like the people she’s saving are gonna complain. -->Tends to flirt with strong women. -->Actually tends to stay partially transformed b/c she likes having a tail and passes herself off as a mutant -->If she gets too hungry and loses control she can become a heat vampire and freeze things to death while feeding on their body heat. -->Spends a lot of time helping out on the farm and her mother is most likely to pass ownership of the family land to her once she retires. -->The most likely person in her generation of the family to have biological kids. --->Keeps teasing Fatgum about when he’s gonna officially adopt his interns. -->Is about 7’5” and technically is too heavy to fly but she glides pretty well.

Cousin- Kenjiro ‘Kenji/Ken/Shuten’- (Quirk) Fast Oni- transformation quirk. Can transform into an oni with enhanced speed and strength. Transforming causes his metabolism to speed up and he burns fat to stay in oni form. Has a speedster metabolism in regular form, if he doesn’t eat a substantial meal every 5 hours he starts losing weight (fat and muscle) rapidly and is consequently always hungry. -->Would love to stay in his transformed form but can’t due to the timer. -->Is jealous of Taishiro’s height and metabolism so he makes fun of the way Tai’s face looks when he’s transformed. Also jealous of Onini’s ability to not be constantly hungry. -->Is constantly hungry from the day his quirk came in and had to take appetite suppressants during puberty to keep from losing his head and chowing down on anything and anyone in reach during his growth spurts. -->Has been mistaken for Fatgum more than once due to their similar-ish size and clothing choices. It frustrates him to no end b/c he’s way darker than Tai and prefers wearing blue or white. -->Has intentionally eaten people. Most notable example being him ending a war with a rival yakuza group by capturing, butchering, and cooking the rival leader and openly serving him for dinner at the peace treaty/gang merger. -->Strongly supports Fatgum as a hero and the two combine resources to help the community whether that is through funding housing for the homeless or getting a very good tailor the resources to make clothing for specific clientele or sending the other to deal with a situation appropriately. -->Brings a knife to a gunfight b/c he’s a superstrong speedster and a gun ain’t go do shit if you ain’t got no hands. -->Thinks Overhaul is a stupid asshole b/c it’s not that hard to get blood out of a kid or train a kid to be ok with it. -->Is about 7’10” and has heard every short joke under the sun from Tai

Fatgum-Taishiro ‘Tai’- (Quirk) Fat Absorption- Transformation quirk into an uncanny valley cartoony blob man that is as strong as the amount of body fat he has. Can absorb, neutralize, or release kinetic energy. Eyes glow in the dark like a cartoon when his quirk is active. Has a great sense of taste and is incapable of feeling sated/is always hungry. Also has an extremely efficient digestive system that breaks food down in seconds. Can also convert fat into muscle as well as generally having enhanced strength and speed while transformed. -->Was a late bloomer. His quirk didn’t start coming in till he was 8 and it took a while b4 he was fat enough for it to have notable effects. -->Preferred being in his skinnier form during middle and high school due to bullying and self-esteem issues that he didn’t work through until his early twenties. -->Started high school at 5’7” (170 cm) at 14 yrs old and was 8’2 (250 cm) when he graduated at 18 yrs old. Puberty was hell and pants were his enemy. -->Had a friend in hero support who took it as a personal challenge to make him clothing that he couldn’t destroy, that would grow and shrink with him, and that he couldn’t outgrow heightwise either. Ended up inventing ‘indestructible pants’ and making bank. -->Does not have canine teeth due to a mutation related to his quirk. Does have several rows of teeth that can replace themselves like a shark’s due to the same mutation. The fuckery of his mouth is only really noticeable if he’s ‘stretching’/pushing his transformation to its fullest extent or if someone’s feeling around inside of his mouth for whatever reason. -->Does not have a gag reflex -->Has been constantly hungry since his quirk emerged and like Kenji had to take appetite suppressants during his growth spurts to keep control of himself. An asshole classmate once replaced his appetite suppressants with appetite stimulants to see what happens. Several people ended up hospitalized, Taishiro still has nightmares about it and said asshole student actually managed to get expelled. Has a restraining order against said asshole classmate who fucked off to England to be a hero there. -->Is so glad he’s done growing. Went through clothes like water when he was a teen. -->Going several days without getting enough calories in tends to activate his prey drive and he really doesn’t like that b/c heroes shouldn’t murder or maul people. Figured out this aspect when he mauled a bully after his quirk just came in and later during a survival training exercise in hero school in which he ended up eating a live bear after several days of living on trail rations (scared his teammates for life with that one). -->A lot of aspects of his costume with the bright colors and friendly mannerisms is to reduce the intimidation factor/terrifying aspects of his appearance. He is aware that in his transformed state he’s a giant uncanny valley cartoony egg man monster that can fucking absorb people into his body. -->While transformed his limb, mouth, and eye proportions are extremely fluid and change nearly at will. If he wants to his face can be entirely mouth, which he knows is terrifying to other people. His arms and legs can rubber hose it though they aren’t as strong when he does that, does mean he can grab from angles that shouldn’t be possible. -->Was bullied as a kid for being ‘quirkless’ b4 his quirk manifested and then he was bullied for being fat. It did a number on his self-esteem as a teen leading him to prefer using his thinner form as his default. -->His thinner form was considered a heartthrob in school to his frustration. Didn’t mean he didn’t take advantage of the fact people found him hot to make money or flirt a free lunch off of someone. Was in a hot guy calendar made and distributed by one of his classmates. -->It absolutely gets on his nerves when people only find his skinny form attractive. -->After graduation, he lost muscle b/c that starter hero paycheck ain’t shit and the Hero Commission refused to let him write off food costs as business expenses. Had to save his food money for patrols leading to him losing weight. -->Participated in underground fighting rings to both make some money on the side and get better at using his quirk -->Has tried Trigger b4 and carries a small vial of the good version of it just in case he really needs it one day. (Listen, you ain’t finding shit trying to pat down fucking Fatgum) -->While transformed the absorbing things into him thing is automatic, put too much pressure on the flabbier parts of his body and you’ll just sink in. It takes effort to release things and took him a while to learn how to do this as a kid. Before he learned how to release things, he’d just turn off his quirk to get things out of him. -->Was blackmailed into working for the cops after getting caught during a raid of one of the fighting rings he was participating in. Decided to be a double agent and give away info on cases to the Devil’s Market to help them stay ahead of the cops. Also blew a decent chunk of the Osaka police force’s budget on his feeding since they wanted to use him. Ultimately this is what caused the police to break their partnership with him b/c he was too damn expensive to keep on the payroll. -->Once he became decently popular he and the Devil’s Market started funding a superhero trade school to get people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to get into hero schools for various reasons trained up and educated enough to get a hero license. -->As a hero he just doesn’t enforce the dumber laws like anti-public quirk use laws b/c who cares if people use their quirks if they aren’t hurting anyone. Also prefers not to label criminals as villains unless they’ve done some truly heinous shit b/c he knows that villains get harsher punishments in the justice system. Is also a strong proponent for rehabilitation for criminals. -->Once got caught in a scandal where he and a close friend and classmate managed to get a quirkless friend of theirs enrolled in their hero school with the help of a hacker. It took months for the school to catch on, during which said quirkless friend excelled in the hero classes. Fatgum and his friend nearly got expelled when caught. Later he helps that quirkless friend get a provisional hero license to become Japan’s first quirkless hero. -->From his family history, to his accent, to his size, to his ancestry Fatgum got torn apart by the media when he first started making waves. It took years but his image as a fun friendly beloved hero won out over ‘loose canon with criminal ties who’ll probably turn villain any day now’ -->Most of his sidekicks are folks he knew in his underground fighting days or rehabilitated criminals. Sidekicks and interns from actual hero schools are picked based on both potential as well as ‘how well can you bend the law/see in shades of grey instead of black and white?’. Essentially interning with Fatgum is a long process of unlearning propaganda and a practical application of morality on a case by case basis. -->Is aware of the hornier corners of his fandom and doesn’t know how to get them to understand that death via snusnu is not a way they want to go out (“How do you know this?” “...No comment.”) and telling them that they would def either die or require medical attention only makes them hornier. He finds it distressing and tries to avoid these people. -->Only found out that his name and birthday were puns when he was in middle school. He was not pleased. His parents had a blast since they were waiting for him to figure it out. -->When transformed his face, hands, feet, knees, and elbows are the most vulnerable parts of his body. Hence the leg armor (and occasionally arm armor). -->Due to his size, he’s got a few glaring blind spots, the main one being that he simply can’t see past his belly when looking down. He has tripped over short people b4 b/c of this. At least one of his friends from school would take advantage of this when he was in his larger form to sneak up on him.