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romaritimeharbor · 2 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The boy sitting on the engawa smiled at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

A burn seared their aching muscles.

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

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

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

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

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

"Ew."

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

They huffed, contemplating their next action.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

Continue, they most certainly did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"[Name]!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aw..."

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

"...Sure."

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

Days were quick to become months.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Himejima Gyomei."

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

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

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

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

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

Gyomei's voice cut through the morning ambiance.

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

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

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

A large hand hovered over their back.

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

"Further..?"

"Further."

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

And inhaled.

And inhaled .

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

"Good. Release that breath slowly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

About another hour passed.

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

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

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

What an absolutely awe-inspiring man to train with.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

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

Yes, Himejima Gyomei was extremely proud of their growth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'You'll do great.'

'Good luck, kid!'

'Come back to us alive, yeah?'

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

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

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

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

In the Master's hands was a nichirin blade.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, as they had said, they were off.

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nervous?" he wondered.

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

Sabito nodded.

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

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

"Exactly."

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

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

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

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

"I live with him, for now."

"What?!"

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

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

"For now."

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

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

She gracefully motioned to the many wisteria trees.

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

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

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

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

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

He laughed.

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

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

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

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

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

"What breathing styles do you guys use?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was as Kagaya had told them, indeed.

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

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

Mist Breathing, Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Slash.

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

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

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

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

Then, Sabito turned to them, positively grinning .

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

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

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

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

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm glad, the—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get the hell out of here!"

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

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

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

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

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

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were undoubtedly the most ready for the Final Selection.

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

And yet they were helpless to save Sabito.

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

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

"Where's Sabito?"

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

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

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

"Yeah..."

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

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

For that, everyone was grateful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crow merely gave a curt nod of approval.

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

"You may now choose your ores."

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