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Chapter Text

Shouyou faintly wondered what death would be like.

The demon’s snarling, bloodstained grin approached, growing closer and closer with every millisecond. Shouyou wanted to close his eyes but he couldn’t- fear was keeping him completely still, collapsed on the ground. His sword lay broken five feet away, snapped in half by the demon’s steely claws.

Bokuto-san, Shouyou thought as the demon’s claws neared, I’m sorry. I couldn’t live up to your expectations.

All at once he felt a freezing chill settle over his skin. Before he could react, the demon shrieked in pain as a nichirin sword thrust its way through the demon’s head. 

Shouyou forced his neck to move, gaping in shock, as a slayer descended upon the scene. It was a man, an omega from the looks of it, wearing an icy-blue haori patterned with white waves. His inky black hair was tied up behind his head with a blue ribbon, and in his hand was a nichirin sword like nothing Shouyou had ever seen before. It was long and thin, a gleaming blue so pale it looked white, like ice shining under the moonlight. The blade itself looked more like a fire poker. 

The unknown slayer spared Shouyou and his partner only a single glance. His eyes were just as blue as his haori and sword, and his pale skin and delicate features cemented him as omega. The deep scowl and the furrow of his brows was very decidedly, however, un-omegan.

“Useless,” he spat in a harsh voice, and turned back to the demon. Shouyou blinked.

What? Is he talking about me?

“Huh?” Was all that came out of his mouth. The slayer paid him no more attention, instead leaping into battle immediately. The demon had recovered, snarling in rage, and the slayer leapt forward with inhuman speed. 

“Breath of frost, fifth form: torrential icestorm.”

In a single blink of an eye he’d moved forward, wielding the razor-sharp tip of his thin blade with extreme precision, and had struck numerous points on the demon’s body. With each strike, the tinkling noise of crystallising ice rang through the air like windchimes and frost bloomed at each point of contact with the blade.

The demon howled, collapsing into a heap on the dirt, and Shouyou realised with a gulp that the hits had been deliberate.

The joints. He went for the joints.

Before either the demon or Shouyou could react further, the slayer thrust the tip of his blade through the demon’s neck. The icy blue metal protruded grotesquely out from the back of the demon’s head, and with a sickening squelch the slayer twisted his arm roughly. The sharp edge of the blade cut in a neat rotation, spinning in a perfect circle and depriving the demon of its head.

He didn’t slash it. He… rotated his sword from inside the demon’s neck?

The slayer turned back to Shouyou with a disdainful look. “Who are you?”

Shouyou opened his mouth to reply, but a sharp, throbbing pain caught his attention first. He looked down at his torso, where the demon’s claws had left three neat slashes minutes before the unknown slayer had arrived, and his vision blurred. The slayer’s eyes widened in surprise as Shouyou felt the dizziness rise in his chest and blacked out.

.

“Oh, him? That was the water hashira’s tsuguko.”

Shouyou frowned down into his miso soup. “Really?”

Akaashi-san was sitting by Shouyou’s bed in the Butterfly Estate, his sword laid neatly against the wall. “You seem surprised.”

“He wasn’t using water breathing,” Shouyou explained, emptying the soup bowl with one final gulp. “At least it didn’t look like water breathing. I didn’t see any waves or anything.”

“That makes sense,” Akaashi-san said, humming. “The water hashira’s tsuguko doesn’t use water breathing.”

Shouyou nearly spat his miso soup out all over his blankets. “What?” He said, choking. “How is he the water hashira’s tsuguko then?”

“Have you met the water hashira, Oikawa Tooru?” Akaashi-san asked. Shouyou nodded slowly. “I saw him once when I went with Bokuto-san to the hashira meeting.”

“The slayer you met, Kageyama Tobio, has been his tsuguko for a long time. He used to practice water breathing, but a while ago, word got out he’d developed his own breathing style. He even got a new sword to go with it.”

“Woahh,” Shouyou breathed in awe. “That’s why his sword looked so weird! Oikawa-san doesn’t mind, then?”

Akaashi-san shrugged. “I’m not sure of the details. You might want to ask Bokuto-san. Still, Kageyama continues to be officially registered as his tsuguko.”

As if on cue, the flame hashira burst into the room. “Hey, hey, hey! Shouyou! I hear you’re recovering well!”

Shouyou beamed. “Bokuto-san! I’m doing great!”

“Good to hear!” The alpha boomed, clapping Akaashi-san on the shoulder and leaning over to ruffle Shouyou’s hair. “Hi Akaashi! I see you’re keeping my beloved student company!”

Akaashi-san inclined his head. “Hello, Bokuto-san. Hinata-kun here was just inquiring about Kageyama, the water tsuguko.”

Bokuto-san blinked. “Oh, right! I heard he saved your life!”

“Yeah, he arrived just in time,” Shouyou said, his mood dampening as he remembered how he’d had to be saved by a fellow tsuguko. Ugh! I need to train more!

“Have you seen him since?” Bokuto-san sat down in the empty seat beside Akaashi-san, taking his mate’s hand casually. “He’s quite the elusive guy!”

“No,” Shouyou said sadly. “I wanted to find him and thank him, but he’s never around the Butterfly Estate when I’m awake!”

“Ask Kita-san,” Akaashi-san suggested. “If he’s busy, then either of his tsuguko, the Miya twins. They’ll know if Kageyama has been around the Butterfly Estate.”

Shouyou squeaked at the thought of speaking to the insect hashira on his own. “U-uh, maybe!”

“Man, Kageyama is really interesting,” Bokuto-san mused. “I’m still wondering why they haven’t made him a hashira yet.”

Shouyou blinked. “Huh? He’s killed fifty demons?”

“Most veteran slayers have killed fifty demons,” Akaashi-san explained. “The requirements for becoming a hashira are generally stricter than that. Oyakata-sama decides, from among the pool of those who have killed fifty, who might be most fit to become a hashira.”

“He’s probably killed over a hundred by now,” Bokuto-san agreed, “but the real impressive task is that he killed a lower moon all by himself.”

Shouyou’s jaw fell open. “Huhhh?”

“It was just a few months ago,” Bokuto-san continued. “Kageyama and some other water breathing users ran into lower one. Everyone else was killed except for him- he battled that demon until sunrise and beheaded it just before dawn.”

“That’s also when he developed his own breathing style,” Akaashi-san added. “Everyone was whispering that he’d become a hashira, but it never happened.”

“That’s so weird,” Shouyou breathed. “Wow…” From what he remembered of how easily Kageyama had disposed of that demon which had nearly killed Shouyou, he was certainly strong enough to be a hashira.

“He’s actually younger than you, Shouyou!” Bokuto-san said, laughing, and Shouyou’s brain screeched to a halt.

“WHAT???”

.

So it turned out Shouyou was becoming a little bit obsessed with Kageyama Tobio.

The other slayer was just so mysterious! He’d never been able to catch even a single glimpse of Kageyama, even after mustering up the courage to ask the smirking Miya twins if he’d been around the Butterfly Estate (the answer had been a firm no.) The image of Kageyama descending like some divine intervention to save Shouyou’s life, the striking elegance of his frostbitten breathing style, and his stubborn ability to avoid any attempts to find him was driving Shouyou insane.

So he paid a trip directly to the water estate as soon as he was discharged. Kita-san’s attendants sent him off with a packet of medicinal tea (to be taken three times a week) and some well wishes, and Shouyou went right down the path to the water estate.

As the most common breathing style, the water estate was packed with people. Shouyou explained he was there to thank Kageyama Tobio for saving his life, and the two slayers at the entrance, who introduced themselves as Kindaichi and Kunimi, exchanged a loaded glance.

“I wouldn’t recommend trying to talk to him,” Kindaichi said lowly. “He’s a real asshole.”

Shouyou shrugged. “Well, even if he’s rude, I’d like to thank him anyway."

“Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” Kunimi sighed, and they let him in. 

The water estate was huge. Apparently the water hashira himself was there that day and was holding a training session for all his slayers, so Shouyou stopped by to watch. Oikawa-san was a tall, handsome alpha, the unofficial heartthrob of the Corps, and he stood in the middle of a gaggle of giggling omega attendants with a charming laugh.

To Shouyou’s surprise, Kageyama Tobio was right there, standing behind Oikawa with a scowl and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Though to be fair, he was the man’s tsuguko- it made sense he’d be there for whatever training session Oikawa was holding.

“-don’t have a secret, if that’s what you’re asking,” Oikawa was saying, laughing. “But I appreciate the flattery!” The three omegas in front of him squealed, blushing bright red, and Kageyama rolled his eyes.

“Oh?” Shouyou gulped as Oikawa’s gaze met his. “My, isn’t this Bokuto-chan’s tsuguko? What was your name again?”

“Hi-Hinata Shouyou, nice to meet you, sir!” Shouyou squeaked, and Oikawa laughed again. “Sir? No need to be so formal, Hinata-kun! What brings you here to the water estate?”

Shouyou tried not to stare too hard at Kageyama. “Uhhh- I’m here to see your tsuguko, please!”

Kageyama startled, his intense blue glare coming to rest firmly on Shouyou’s face. “Huh?” 

Oikawa looked surprised, but a moment later his face smoothed out. “Ah, Tobio-chan! Why don’t you speak with Hinata-kun over in the pavilion, hmm?”

Kageyama shot Oikawa a disbelieving look, as if shocked that Oikawa would even let Shouyou speak to him, but stepped forward with a scowl. Shouyou looked at him blankly until he clicked his tongue.

“Come on then.”

“Right!” Shouyou squeaked, and followed him out of the courtyard into a side pavilion where it was much quieter and devoid of people.

“What do you want?” Up close in the light of day, Kageyama looked different from how he’d been that night, bathed in moonlight. His skin was just as pale, his hair just as dark and his eyes just as blue, but Shouyou was able to notice several details he hadn’t seen last time. Kageyama wore a dark blue leather collar around his neck, standard for unmated omegas their age, which was adorned by a small charm in the shape of a dewdrop. He was tall, very tall, much taller than the average omega, dwarfing Shouyou in height. Unlike many of the omega attendants and kakushi, he wore no makeup, as evidenced by the visible dark circles under his eyes. His scent, which had been covered by the tang of blood during their last encounter, was clean and sharp, like freshly-fallen snow and jasmine.

“I wanted to thank you,” Shouyou blurted out, bowing his head hastily. “You saved my life.”

“Hah,” Kageyama scoffed. “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t so useless.”

Shouyou reared back, shocked at the abrupt insult. “H-huh?”

“That demon wasn’t even a lower moon,” Kageyama continued abrasively. “It was barely a threat. How come you, a tsuguko of the flame hashira, needed my help so badly? You shouldn’t have struggled against it at all.”

Shouyou lowered his head again, ashamed. “I- I was in pre-rut.”

That got Kageyama’s attention. “What?”

“I was supposed to be off,” Shouyou confessed, “But I took the mission for another slayer because he was injured at the last minute. I know it was stupid!”

“Stupid?” Kageyama asked coldly. His voice had gone from brash to frigid. “No, you weren’t just stupid. You made the conscious decision to go into a mission in pre-rut, knowing you could endanger the human lives nearby and yourself, even your hashira if the demon found out and decided it wanted revenge.”

Shouyou closed his eyes. “I know.” 

“If you’re an alpha, a tsuguko at that, you should know the dangers of fighting while incapacitated by our cycles,” Kageyama continued mercilessly. “Our minds are overtaken. Our bodies are no longer under our control. If the demon had been an omega, you might’ve even spared it. Our dynamics come before even our humanity.”

Shouyou flinched. “I- I wouldn’t have spared a demon even if-’

“You don’t know that!” Kageyama cut him off loudly, his voice rising. He stopped himself, seemingly having realised he was yelling. “You don’t know that,” he repeated quietly.

“Is everything okay over here?” 

Shouyou looked up to see, to his horror, Oikawa standing there. Luckily none of his admirers seemed to have followed him, but his handsome face was very artfully blank and his voice was pitched with a hint of alpha authority. Shouyou quickly ducked his head.

“It’s okay!” He said loudly. “We’re okay!”

Oikawa smiled stiffly at that, but he turned his gaze to Kageyama, whose expression was unreadable.

“Yes, we’re fine,” Kageyama said eventually. Oikawa inclined his head, and turned back to return to the courtyard, his long brown hair swishing behind him. Kageyama stared after him for a moment before his lips curled again, looking back at Shouyou.

“In any case, you’ve made your gratitude clear,” he said coldly. “You can leave now.”

“Wait!” Shouyou blurted out before he could stop himself. “Why aren’t you a hashira?”

If it was possible, Kageyama’s face got even more unfriendly. “None of your fucking business,” he snarled, and reached for Shouyou’s wrist as if to physically pull him out of the water estate. Hastily, Shouyou took a few steps back.

“I’m sorry if that was rude!” He cried, internally telling himself to shut up. He lasted maybe two seconds before his big dumb mouth opened again. “Bokuto-san told me you killed a lower moon by yourself but you’re not a hashira. I’m just curious!”

Kageyama’s gaze was absolutely frigid. “Why aren’t you a hashira?” His tone was mocking, as if it was a trick question, but Shouyou couldn’t figure out what the non-trick answer was supposed to be.

“Uhhh… I haven’t met the criteria?” Shouyou wracked his brain for anything else he could say. Kageyama cocked an eyebrow. “Why else?”

“Well… I’m Bokuto-san’s tsuguko, and Bokuto-san is perfectly alive and well, so there’s no need?” As he said it, Shouyou’s eyes widened.

Kageyama scoffed. “Exactly. There are seven hashira- that’s all we need. Why would I become a hashira? I do the same work as a tsuguko.”

“Ohh…” Shouyou’s brain was feeling a little fried. Kageyama clucked his tongue and gave him a disdainful look.

“I can tell you’re one of those people who make it their life goal to be a hashira,” he said, his voice cutting. “Let me tell you this: there’s nothing glorious about being a hashira. Hashiras are just slayers like everyone else. They eat the same, they sleep the same, and they die the same. You can look up to them all you want, but in the end they’re no different than any other strong slayer.”

Shouyou’s mouth was probably hanging open at this point. “H-huh?”

“Those who get excessively caught up in being a hashira and allow their pride to overcome themselves… are weaker and more pathetic than the lowliest mizunoto,” Kageyama said firmly. “All that matters in the Demon Slayer Corps is strength. Ranks, titles… all of that is bullshit.” With that, he turned decisively and strode back towards the courtyard where his hashira was, and left Shouyou there, shellshocked.

.

“I just don’t get it!” Shouyou cried, sweat dripping off his brow as he forced himself into yet another push-up. “He’s a tsuguko! How can he be so disrespectful to the hashira?”

“I don’t think he and Oikawa have a bad relationship, at least.” Akaashi-san mused. “Hinata-kun, do the last one again, you didn’t go deep enough.” Shouyou groaned, but obediently repeated the push-up.

“They’ve known each other for a very long time. In fact, Kageyama’s grandfather was the last water hashira.”

“Huhhhh?” Shouyou was getting kind of tired of being surprised. “Wait- how did Oikawa become water hashira then?”

“Oikawa was Kageyama’s grandfather’s tsuguko- Kageyama was too young then,” Akaashi-san explained. “Kageyama’s grandfather died, so Oikawa became the next water hashira, and Kageyama became his tsuguko.”

“Ohhhh… what was Kageyama’s grandfather like?”

“I only met him once in passing when I was very young, before I passed my final selection,” Akaashi-san said thoughtfully. “He was a very gentle and kind man, from what I remember. He liked to laugh.”

Shouyou wrinkled his nose. “That sounds like the opposite of his grandson.”

Akaashi-san tapped Shouyou on the forehead lightly in reprimand. “Everyone deals with grief differently,” he scolded gently. “Kageyama watched his grandfather die in his arms. He’s bound to have some trauma.”

Shouyou’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“I don’t know the details,” Akaashi-san warned, “But Kageyama went with Oikawa as backup for his grandfather on a mission, and apparently they witnessed his death to a very powerful demon.”

Shouyou bit his lip, feeling bad for his previous words. “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like the idea of being a hashira. Because his grandfather was a hashira and he watched him die.”

Akaashi-san shrugged. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask Oikawa- there’s probably no one who knows Kageyama better than him. Alright, Hinata-kun, you’re done for the day. Go wash up.”

Beaming, Shouyou struggled to his feet, all of his muscles protesting at their rough treatment, and bowed hastily to Akaashi-san before hurrying to the baths to wash the sweat off his skin. 

The flame estate wasn’t quite as big as the water estate, but it held almost just as many people- flame breathing was also popular. The male alpha baths were crowded- there were about six other people inside, chatting. Shouyou greeted his fellow slayers before settling into the hot water with a sigh.

“Hinata-san, you’re going on a mission soon, right?” Sano asked. “I heard you recovered from your injuries!”

“Yup!” Shouyou cried. “I’m cleared to begin tomorrow! Can’t wait to get back out there.”

“Did Bokuto-san tell you where you’re going?” Murakami nudged him. “I’m curious!”

Shouyou hummed. “No, he didn’t give me the details yet, just told me that they’re dispatching two hashira and that it might be one of the Twelve Kizuki.”

There was a chorus of ooohs in the room, echoing off the walls and the water. 

“Wow…” Murakami said, shivering. “Twelve Kizuki! Hinata-san, are you scared?”

“Nah!” Shouyou said happily. “I’m not scared! Bokuto-san will be there, not to mention another hashira! What’s there to be scared of?”

Turns out there was a lot to be scared of. 

The other hashira they were sending, just because the universe was totally on Shouyou’s side, was Oikawa Tooru. And where Oikawa Tooru went, his tsuguko Kageyama Tobio went.

The five of them- Bokuto-san, Akaashi-san, Oikawa, Kageyama, and Shouyou- were scoping out the red light district in Tokyo. They would stand out too much with their uniforms and swords, so they’d dressed themselves in regular casual kimono before heading in. Shouyou felt out of place and nervous in this place, teeming with debauchery so thick he could practically taste it in the air, so he shrank back behind Bokuto-san’s broad silhouette. 

Walking in front were Oikawa and Kageyama. Despite his usual unpleasant demeanor, Kageyama kept his head held high even as passing alphas leered at him, and his face was artfully blank. Unlike Akaashi-san, who had Bokuto-san’s arm around him to ward off any perverts, Kageyama wasn’t touching Oikawa at all- they maintained a distance of around ten centimeters at all times. 

Eventually they came to a tea house and sat down for drinks to wait until the peak of the night when the demon would be most active. All of them had their swords concealed inside their clothes, but Shouyou felt tense anyway as they sipped their tea and watched the musical performances. When the clock struck one in the morning, Oikawa cut off the servants from pouring more tea- that was their cue.

Bokuto-san went to the front desk to pay for their drinks, and Akaashi-san and Kageyama, as the only two omegas, returned to their table from the information gathering they’d been performing while the alphas drank tea. 

“Three high-ranking omega courtesans have disappeared in the last two weeks,” Kageyama said grimly. “One from this house, two from the house next door. There have also been visiting omegas who have disappeared, too many to be simple kidnapping cases. Twenty in the past month.”

“Most were pale and dark-haired: this demon has a type.” Akaashi-san glanced at Kageyama. “Luckily, we might have enough bait here. The demon likely disguises themselves as a customer. A wealthy, handsome alpha able to convince the victims to run away with them overnight.”

“Wow, twenty-three victims in a month,” Bokuto-san whistled lowly, though the grip he had on his cup was evidence of his anger. “This demon is strong. Very, very strong.”

“Probably an upper moon,” Oikawa agreed, making cold sweat bloom along Shouyou’s skin. “Recently promoted, too. Otherwise we’d have heard of this long ago.”

“The two of us have received offers from the house next door,” Akaashi-san said, pulling out two pieces of paper. “We will reconvene there tomorrow at midnight.”

“Stay safe,” Oikawa said firmly. He looked Kageyama in the eye, who met his gaze without wavering. “If the demon makes a move, alert us via kasugai crow. Do not attempt to engage on your own.”

Shouyou, Bokuto-san and Oikawa left the two omegas to begin their undercover sleuthing in their tea house, booking rooms in a nearby inn for the night, though none of them slept much, keeping an eye out for any information. 

“It’s no surprise Akaashi got an offer so soon,” Bokuto-san said proudly in their room- Oikawa’s was next door, though they would be staying in the same room at night to avoid communication breakages. “My mate is the most beautiful omega in the world!”

Shouyou smiled. “I wonder how he explained his mating mark,” he said pensively.

“It’s fairly common for young omegas to be mated against their will and run away, only to have nowhere to turn but the entertainment district, unfortunately,” Oikawa said with a frown. “I’d say a fair amount of the courtesans in this place are mated.”

Shouyou shuddered. “That’s horrible.”

Oikawa sighed. “Indeed. Yoshiwara isn’t a pleasant place. I have no doubt that both Akaashi-san and Tobio-chan can handle themselves, though.”

“That’s for sure!” Bokuto-san laughed. “They’re the two most capable omegas in the entire Demon Slayer Corps!”

Shouyou was burning with curiosity, wanting badly to ask Oikawa about Kageyama’s past, but sensed that this probably wasn’t the best time to do so. Still, he couldn’t keep his mouth completely shut- “How many omegas are there in the Corps anyway?”

Oikawa looked pensive. “That’s a hard question. Not many, that’s for sure. Akaashi-san and Tobio-chan are the only ones ranked above tsuchinoe, as far as I know.”

“Kageyama is kinoe, right?” Bokuto-san asked. “That’s the same as Akaashi.”

“Yes, he was promoted to kinoe about two years ago,” Oikawa said. 

“Have there ever been any omega hashira?” Shouyou asked curiously. “There aren’t any right now.”

“Maybe from decades ago,” Bokuto-san agreed, “But there haven’t been any omega hashira for a long time. Longer than I’ve been in the Corps, for sure.”

Oikawa sighed. “Well, times are changing, and hashira get replaced all the time,” he said vaguely. “We might see one soon.”

The night passed relatively uneventfully, and during the day they took shifts sleeping and heading out to gather intel. Shouyou got the earliest day shift so he would be safest since he was lower ranked. The early morning crowd was nowhere near as intimidating as the late night one was- hungover customers who’d spent the night were heading out of the tea houses, groaning but mostly sober, as well as breakfast stalls. Shouyou stopped to buy himself a tamagoyaki, then continued on through the crowd.

When he returned to the inn, the sun was high in the sky. He relayed the scant information he’d been able to gather: that most vendors thought the demon was a kidnapping ring trafficking pretty young omegas into other entertainment houses, then promptly passed out from exhaustion.

He was awoken by Bokuto-san that evening, at about 9pm when the sun was already down. All three of them went out for dinner at a nearby udon restaurant, and then emerged into the night proper. When it was approaching time to go meet up with Akaashi-san and Kageyama, they were stopped by an oiran procession. An ethereally beautiful female omega was parading down the streets dressed in beautiful, heavy fabric, her face blank but demure. Shouyou’s lips parted despite himself, but he wasn’t the only one: nearly everyone in the vicinity had stopped in their tracks to observe as she glided past effortlessly.

“She’s heading to Tobio-chan’s house,” Oikawa said grimly, which snapped Shouyou out of his stupor, and they followed after her.

Kageyama and Akaashi-san’s house was enormously busy that night, or perhaps they were always like this. From what Bokuto-san told him from his intel gathering, it was the most popular brothel in the area. 

“Wait,” Shouyou said dumbly as they stood in the entrance of the brothel, “how are we supposed to ask for them?”

Bokuto-san and Oikawa froze dead in their tracks. “Right,” Bokuto-san said slowly. “Courtesans have… stage names, right?”

“Shit,” Oikawa mumbled. “Yeah, apparently the okami usually gives them a new name when they’re bought.” He took a deep breath, put on a charming smile, and sauntered up to the front of the house, where a young omega girl was checking in other customers and accepting payment.

“Good evening,” Oikawa said in a suave tone. The attendant glanced up at his face, blushed, and smiled. 

“How can we help you, okyaku-sama?” She asked demurely. “Perhaps you may want to take a look at the viewing galleries.” She gestured to a row of omegas, mostly female but some male, sitting neatly behind wooden bars on display. Shouyou felt a little sick, staring at their white-painted faces.

“I heard that your house recently came into possession of two great beauties just last night,” Oikawa continued, his stance and tone completely natural. “In fact, I saw them enter this house myself.”

The girl frowned. “Last night? Our only new additions last night would have been… Tama and Tsuru.”

“Tama and Tsuru,” Oikawa replied, looking falsely pensive. “What a name.”

The girl smiled gently. “Would you like me to fetch them so you can make a decision, sir?”

“Sure,” Oikawa said, laughing. “I’ll see if they’re really the omegas I saw last night.”

The girl gestured to another attendant and whispered something into her ear, sending her scurrying deeper into the house, presumably in search of Kageyama and Akaashi-san. Just then, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind them.

Shouyou turned around- it was Akaashi-san, dressed in courtesan’s robes with light makeup on his face, smiling wryly. He looked so different that Shouyou’s mouth fell completely open. 

“Aka-’ Bokuto-san started to say, before Oikawa pinched him hard and he cut himself off with a yelp. That’s right, Shouyou remembered. He’s supposed to have a new name now.

“I could not help but overhear you asking for me, sirs,” Akaashi-san said gently, cocking an eyebrow and urging them to play along with his gaze. “This one’s name is Tsuru.”

“Tsuru, right,” Bokuto-san said hastily, though his gaze was fixed firmly on Akaashi-san’s face and he looked even more lovestruck than usual. Oikawa rolled his eyes subtly.

“Tsuru, there you are!” The attendant girl called. “Have you seen Tama?”

“Yes, he’s just in our room, preparing,” Akaashi-san replied. Oikawa dumped a bag of coins in the attendant’s hand and she bowed neatly. “Welcome to our establishment, esteemed guests. Please follow Tsuru- he will guide you to where you will be staying for the night.”

Akaashi-san gestured at them to be quiet subtly, and then they began following him deep into the house, past a twisting maze of wooden hallways and stairs. Eventually, on the fourth floor, Akaashi-san led them down a hallway lined with rooms lit up in a soft, atmospheric light. Apparently, his and Kageyama’s room was at the end of the hall.

At the door, a servant girl was waiting- she bowed to them neatly.

“Hana, you’re free to leave now,” Akaashi-san said gently. The girl- Hana- bowed again, then scurried away quickly. 

“Hurry, inside,” Akaashi-san hissed, and slid open the paper door. They tumbled into the room- it was decorated beautifully, clearly meant as a private retreat, and Akaashi-san shut the door behind them. On the opposite end of the room was a large set of windows with a beautiful view out into Yoshiwara.

“You’re here,” Kageyama said flatly. He was sitting beside a mirror, also wearing courtesan’s robes, though he didn’t have any makeup on and his hair was still in a ponytail compared to Akaashi-san’s meticulous updo. 

“Where did you put your swords and uniforms?” Oikawa asked, and Kageyama gestured to a closet at the far end of the room.

“We pried up the floorboards in the closet and hid our swords inside,” he said. “The okami checks all the rooms for contraband every day so we couldn’t just keep the swords in our trunks.”

“We learned something new during the day,” Akaashi-san revealed, crossing the room to where Kageyama pushed a bucket of water towards him. Wetting a rag, he began to wipe off his freshly-applied makeup. “The demon likes to target omegas in groups. Plenty of the courtesans in this house serve customers in groups of two or three, and none of the recent victims were working on their own when they died.”

“This is a good setup then,” Bokuto-san said seriously. “Anything else?”

Kageyama and Akaashi exchanged a look. Kageyama blushed, then coughed. “Well- usually they disappear during… the peak hours of the night,” he said stiffly. “Right when they’re supposed to be… serving the client.”

Shouyou squeaked and felt his face go red, and Oikawa smirked. “Damn, what a perverted demon.”

“We suspect the demon might be coming in through the windows, so we requested a room with a window,” Akaashi explained. “No one’s died in two or three days, so the demon will likely be out hunting tonight. We should be prepared.”

They all retrieved their swords, and waited in tense anticipation. The minutes ticked by, then hours- initially the five of them made light conversation, but as the clock struck one in the morning, peak hours for the red light district, they gradually grew silent. Then, at around one thirty, Bokuto-san and Oikawa tensed up.

I hear something approaching on the rooftops, Oikawa mouthed, and Shouyou placed his hand on the hilt of his sword carefully. He took one, two, three deep breaths, and yes, he could hear it now too- the slow creaking of something making its way across the roof, ready to ambush a pair of courtesans and their clients, asleep after a night of debauchery.

The windowsill shook a little under the weight of the demon approaching. Just as Shouyou narrowed his eyes to try to find where it was, the entire room shuddered.

Oikawa, sitting closest to the window, was the first to move- his sword, a clear, glistening teal blue, flashed out of its sheath so fast that Shouyou could barely see it, and what seemed like a tidal wave erupted out of his blade. The demon growled loudly and emerged into view as it ducked from Oikawa’s swing- it appeared like a human male. As it curled up to its full height, snarling, Shouyou shuddered.

It looked almost strikingly regular. Tall, alpha, handsome- just like Akaashi-san had predicted, wearing a finely-made kimono and a pair of round, tinted glasses. It had smooth brown hair, luminous skin and almond-shaped eyes, which would have fooled Shouyou into thinking it was another charming young alpha if not for the inhuman stench of demonic malice rolling off of it, the sharp fangs under curled-back lips, and the claws now exposed on its fingers.

Most dangerous of all were the characters carved into its eyes. Upper Six.

“So,” it said in a smooth, sonorous tone. “The new beauties of the Fukushima house are not regular courtesans after all.”

Kageyama’s face was twisted in rage. “You,” he said, his voice trembling with anger. “It was you?”

“We should’ve known,” Akaashi-san said, his face blank but his voice tense with barely suppressed emotion. “It’s the perfect cover. You trade in young omegas.”

Shouyou licked his lips, thoroughly confused, but he was fairly certain Kageyama and Akaashi-san had met the demon at some point last night. He had a feeling, though, that this was not the time for introductions, because the demon lunged.

In a flash, Bokuto-san was in front of Shouyou, and his blade cleaved a wheel of scorching flames through the room. Akaashi-san was on his other side, fending off the demon’s other arm, and it snarled in frustration.

“Lure it outside to the roof!” Oikawa yelled as he leapt into the fray. “Don’t harm the other humans!” He was right. The house was overflowing with clients and courtesans alike, resting after their respective activities had concluded. A fight involving two hashira, two tsuguko and an upper moon would cause massive casualties. 

Bokuto-san, Akaashi-san and Shouyou, who were closer to the door, pushed forward, trying to force the demon out the window, while Kageyama and Oikawa kicked open the windowsills. Something on the demon’s face changed minutely- then its lips stretched into a malicious smirk and it held out its hands. 

“Blood Demon Art!” Was all Kageyama managed to scream out before a thick cloud of… something exploded out of the demon’s fingertips- it was powdery, like flour, and tinged a shimmering golden colour. Shouyou reared back in shock, instinctively shoving his hand over his mouth to cover his nostrils.

That instinctive act had saved him. Akaashi-san, who had both hands on his sword and thus received a full dose right to the face, coughed and stumbled back- immediately Bokuto-san fell back a few steps to support him as Oikawa, Kageyama and Shouyou surged forward, holding their breaths to take their places. With a torrent of flames from Shouyou’s sword, the demon leapt nimbly back on its haunches and out the window. Without a second word, Kageyama and Oikawa gave chase, but Shouyou hesitated, turning his head back.

Akaashi-san was coughing, hunched over on the floor, his cheeks flushed and a hand over his mouth. His sword lay abandoned next to him, and Bokuto-san was crouched by his side, looking worried. Akaashi-san’s face was a bright, lurid red. 

“Too… hot,” Akaashi-san rasped, and Shouyou tensed. “Go… get out of here!” 

Shouyou didn’t need to be told twice. Bokuto-san would take care of Akaashi-san: he turned and leapt out the window as well.

Up on the rooftop, Oikawa was engaged in a ferocious battle with the demon, who fought using what looked like a fan in the shape of a branch of willow leaves. From its fingertips it continued to disperse that strange, shimmering powder, and with each flap of the fan the powder exploded outward. 

“Clear the civilians!” Kageyama, from where he was assisting Oikawa with the fight, yelled at Shouyou, so Shouyou leapt down into the street where civilians were staring up at the battle on the rooftops.

“There’s a fire! There’s a fire! Run!” Shouyou screamed at the top of his lungs. It wouldn’t matter that not everyone would believe him- if even one person did, the panic would spread among the crowd and they’d all evacuate the area. Sure enough, several people were already hurrying their way out of the district, and as others began yelling fire too, soon enough hundreds of people, alphas and omegas alike, were streaming out of the tea houses. Both courtesans and customers were rushing to the gates of the district, so Shouyou deemed it safe to return to the battle and leapt back onto the rooftops.

The battle had migrated a good few hundred metres south, judging by the flashes of light and the sound of clashing blades. Kageyama and Oikawa were locked in deadly combat with the demon, but Shouyou could tell that without total concentrated breathing, they wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Are you feeling a bit warmer, Tama?” The demon asked Kageyama in a mocking voice. “Perhaps a little flushed?”

“Shut up,” Kageyama snarled, his eyes flashing. “Shut up!” Indeed, even though they were now out in the open, the air felt unusually warm.

With a bang, the demon jumped back a few metres, grinning at the momentary reprieve.

“I got ever-so-lucky today,” it sang. “Is Tsuru the mate of that big burly one? My, how fortuitous! I do love it when they’re mated!”

Oikawa sneered. “You exclusively target omegas then, I presume?” His brow was cocked in a mimicry of mocking laughter, though his mouth was set in a hard, firm line.

“I eat beautiful things,” the demon laughed. “No different from you humans decorating your food with colours.”

Kageyama let out a cold laugh. “What’s that powder made of then? Can’t believe an upper moon would need to drug its victims.”

The demon’s smile widened. “Oh, my, Tama-chan, you haven’t figured it out? I suppose you’ve been very careful not to breathe too much of it in yet, but you’ll be feeling it soon, I’m sure! This is an inducer.”

Kageyama’s face went deathly pale. Now that Shouyou focused, he could see the beginnings of a flush creeping up Kageyama’s collar and onto his face. 

“The powder raises your body temperature, and once you reach a certain degree of warmth, it’ll activate your mating cycle!” The demon sang. “You’ll taste much better when you’re desperate!”

Oikawa growled, his handsome face almost unrecognisable with fury. “You bastard!” He leapt forward again, and soon he and the demon were once again fighting, but to Shouyou’s horror, it was evident the powder had begun to affect him as well- his face was red and he was panting hard. Shouyou, who’d just recovered from the last effects of fighting while in pre-rut, knew how awful it was to be consumed by that flickering fire while trying to focus on battle. Still- he had to help, so he tried his best to assist Oikawa in battle while avoiding the powder. 

It was no use. The Blood Demon Art was everywhere: scattered in what seemed like every breath, no matter how tiny. The entire rooftop section they were in was now faintly glimmering gold with the effects of the powder, and Shouyou felt feverish- he was sweating not only from the fight but also from heat. 

“You’ll reach that temperature threshold soon!” The demon said mockingly. “When that happens, I’m going to enjoy eating Tama-chan right in front of you!”

Shouyou gritted his teeth, feeling the tinges of despair creeping up into his chest. Was this how the demon had become upper six? By infecting its victims, all the slayers that had come after it, watching them slowly give way to their cycles and lose their ability to fight back? 

All of a sudden, there was a sharp snapping sound, like the cracking of an icicle. Shouyou’s vision flashed blue- it was Kageyama, his poker-like sword flashing as it clanged against the demon’s willow-leaf fan. The air went crisp and in a flash, all the sweat on Shouyou’s body cooled. 

The demon jumped back, frowning. On its fan where Kageyama’s sword had made contact, there was frost slowly forming, creeping its way across the leafy surface.

“What’s this?” The demon asked in a low, ominous tone. “So chilly.”

The previously warm air had gone frigid for just an instant- it was now once again becoming too hot for comfort. So this is Kageyama’s self-developed breathing style, Shouyou thought in awe. 

“You say your Blood Demon Art raises bodily temperature to simulate a mating cycle,” Kageyama said, one eyebrow cocked in determination. “So what if our bodies never get hot enough to enter that cycle?”

The demon’s grin turned malicious. It snarled wordlessly, brandishing its fan, and Kageyama leapt forward. He was fast- unbelievably fast, faster than Oikawa or Bokuto-san. His blade moved so quickly that its blue glare seemed like light, flashing through the night. The demon, however, was just as fast, and much stronger too- slowly but surely it forced Kageyama backward. Even if Kageyama could counter its Blood Demon Art by forcing the temperature to remain low, he couldn’t overpower it without brute strength.

That would be Oikawa’s job. Afraid to use his flame breathing and raise the temperature again, Shouyou kept away from using his breathing style, sticking to parrying blows which knocked away the demon’s stray attacks from reaching Kageyama. A torrential wave from Oikawa’s blade knocked the demon off balance for just a moment- Kageyama moved to unleash the same flurry of devastating immobilizing attacks he’d used against the demon that had nearly killed Shouyou. 

This demon, however, evidently wasn’t an upper moon for nothing. Growling loudly, it raised its fan and slammed it down harshly- Kageyama, who’d been right in its way, was sent flying back by the force of its blow, crashing into a chimney a few hundred metres away. As soon as his presence was gone, the air went steaming hot again, making Shouyou and Oikawa’s movements slow immediately. 

Just then, a burst of flames cleaved an enormous section of the rooftop in two- it was Bokuto-san, panting and flushed. 

“Bokuto-san!” Shouyou cried in relief. “Akaashi-san-’

“-Is safe and stable,” Bokuto-san cut him off, his face tight with rage. “So you’re the one who messed with my mate’s heat cycle. You’re going to pay.” As he was speaking, there were flames already collecting at the edge of his blade. Shouyou shouted in alarm, but Oikawa beat him to it.

“Bokuto-chan, don’t use your breathing style!” Oikawa yelled. “His Blood Demon Art works off heat!”

Bokuto-san froze, his face going even darker. “I see,” he said. “All the better, then.”

Shouyou could only watch in awe, then, as the battle intensified enormously in a single instant. Oikawa and Bokuto-san proved, very, very thoroughly, why they were hashira: even without flame breathing, Bokuto-san’s every attack was devastating, smashing entire buildings with one sword swing, and Oikawa’s smooth, undulating movements cut off the demon’s every attempt to reach further.

Still- an upper moon was an upper moon, and with every second the air grew hotter and hotter and Bokuto-san and Oikawa’s movements were slowing. The demon’s smile grew wider and wider and his attacks began landing, slicing deep cuts into the two hashiras’ bodies. Bokuto-san let out a grunt when he was knocked back by a particularly brutal blow, blood immediately seeping out of the gash on his chest. Shouyou caught him hurriedly even as Oikawa continued the battle. 

Just then, that same azure flash of cold air arrived, and Shouyou could have cried in relief. It was Kageyama, whose breathing style could counter the crippling Blood Demon Art. 

“Breath of frost, third form,” Kageyama cried, sliding smoothly underneath the demon and thrusting his sword upward. “Glacial spear!” The sharp tip of his blade struck the demon right in the chest so quickly that its force sent the demon a good ten metres straight upwards into the air. 

“Breath of water, eighth form: waterfall basin!” Oikawa had leapt up, fast enough that he was now above the demon, and swung his sword down to send it smashing back onto the rooftop, sending a spray of shingles in all directions.

The demon, thoroughly incensed, screeched in rage. “You pathetic humans!” It screamed. “You should be bowing at my feet!” 

Kageyama paid it no mind. “Breath of frost, fifth form,” he said, and Shouyou’s heart leapt into his throat. That was the technique which had saved his life. “Torrential icestorm!”

That same unrelenting storm of blows came, striking at the weakened demon’s joints. Frost bloomed at each of the points of impact, racing outward to immobilize the demon, and Oikawa’s blade came rushing forward a heartbeat later.

“Breath of water, first form: surface slash.” Just like that, the demon’s head dropped dully to the ground. Its handsome alpha face was frozen in anger and shock, and even though its mouth was open, it didn’t say a word as its luxuriously-dressed body slowly faded to ashes and fluttered away in the wind. The shimmering golden gleam in the air from its Blood Demon Art faded bit by bit, until the only sound left was their panting.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa finally said. He ran a critical eye over all of them.

“We’re all good,” Bokuto-san confirmed. He curled his lip wryly. “Man, we really made you two do all the work there, didn’t we? Sorry for the inconvenience!” He climbed to his feet steadily and bowed lightly despite the blood pouring out of the wound on his chest. Shouyou hurried to bow as well, mindful of his own injuries, which were beginning to truly hurt as the adrenaline faded.

“Your breathing style was a bad matchup for the demon, it’s not your fault, Bokuto-chan,” Oikawa said, sighing. “We need to get you to the Butterfly Estate.”

“I have to check on Akaashi first,” Bokuto-san said seriously. “The Blood Demon Art got to him.”

“The effects of the Blood Demon Art should have faded with the demon’s death,” Kageyama said quietly. He was sheathing his sword, his gaze fixed to the ground. “Akaashi-san should be alright.”

Bokuto-san flashed them a quick grin. “We should head back anyway.” With that, the four of them began hurrying back across the rooftops to the tea house they had originally been in. The once-bustling red light district felt strange being so deserted, even with the multitudes of destroyed buildings around them. 

“Who was that demon?” Oikawa asked as they ran. “Tobio-chan, you seemed to recognise it.”

“He was the so-called hiring manager for many of the brothels in the area,” Kageyama said through his teeth. “He was the one who approached Akaashi-san and I. Basically, he sold omegas to the houses. They all respected him- the okami called him Amanai-sama.”

“Amanai-sama… its name was Amanai?” Bokuto-san asked. “What a disguise.”

“It makes sense,” Oikawa said, his brow furrowed. “It was the perfect cover. It masqueraded as a human and had the freedom to scout for whichever omegas it wanted to eat. Then, it would sell them to brothels and eat them. What I’m confused about is how you couldn’t tell it was a demon.”

“I don’t know how, but it managed to conceal its scent and demonic presence,” Kageyama scowled. “Both Akaashi-san and I agreed that he made us feel uneasy, but we figured it was just the nature of his work.”

“It wasn't upper six for nothing,” Oikawa said grimly. “Still- we got very, very lucky. It was probably only recently promoted to the Twelve Kizuki, replacing the previous upper six that Kuroo-chan killed last year.”

“Yeah, it obviously hadn’t completely mastered its new strength yet,” Bokuto-san agreed. “It wasn’t much of a fighter, either. It was only so deadly because of its Blood Demon Art.”

“Still, what a terrifying Blood Demon Art!” Shouyou cried. “It basically made us super weak!”

When they arrived back at the original tea house, Akaashi-san was sitting on the rooftop, still looking pale but not smelling like heat-scent at all.

“You’re all back,” he said, relief dripping from his voice. “I’m very sorry that I wasn’t able to help with the battle. I let the demon get the better of me.”

“Don’t say that, Akaashi!” Bokuto-san cried. “That wasn’t your fault at all!”

“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi gasped. “You’re injured! And the rest of you as well! We have to get you to the Butterfly Estate now!”

Indeed, Shouyou was now in a lot of pain. By his own estimation, he probably had numerous broken ribs and was losing blood rapidly out of several gashes the demon’s razor-sharp fan had opened into his arms and legs. Luckily, the kakushi arrived soon after that, and they were all in the Butterfly Estate within a few hours of the battle ending.

“How irresponsible,” Kita-san said, his gaze completely blank as always as he leveled Bokuto-san with an even look, which made the normally exuberant flame hashira curl in on himself in shame. “To continue to run and exert yourself after sustaining an injury like that, just to confirm the practically-guaranteed health of someone who hadn’t been injured at all in the battle.”

Bokuto-san smiled sheepishly. “Aw, Kita! It was Akaashi, how could I not worry?”

Kita-san sighed. “Very well, then. I would ask you not to do it again but I suspect you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” The Butterfly Estate’s attendants were setting Shouyou’s ribs painfully, making him gasp every time they gently touched his chest to try and feel for where the breakages were.

“The effects of the Blood Demon Art are completely gone from your bodies,” Kita-san continued. “All that’s left is your physical injuries, which should generally heal to limited mobility in two weeks’ time.”

“We’ll go report to Oyakata-sama after we’re discharged,” Oikawa said, not wincing at all even as an attendant reset his broken bones. “Still, we haven’t seen hide nor hair of the other upper moons beyond six.”

“Our generation of hashira have now managed to kill two upper moons,” Kita-san said mildly, raising an eyebrow. “As Oyakata-sama said in the last meeting, that in itself is a remarkable feat.”

Kageyama was silent as the attendants fussed over his injuries. He was staring down at his sword.

“Well then,” Oikawa sighed, glancing at his tsuguko. “I need to talk with Oyakata-sama about something else anyway. Tobio-chan, accompany me for a private meeting with him when we’re discharged.”

Kageyama lifted his head. He was scowling as usual, but his blue eyes were downturned. 

“Okay,” he said quietly. He wasn’t wearing his icy blue haori- it was being fixed by some kakushi after it had torn in the battle. His hair, too, was let down from its usual ponytail and was draped over one shoulder as the attendants worked on treating a wound on his back. 

Strange, Shouyou thought. Kageyama had been so instrumental to their victory: why didn’t he look happy? 

Chapter Text

Oyakata-sama looked the same as he always did, Tobio thought. His face was curved into that familiar gentle smile, and his hands were folded demurely in his lap. His comforting omega scent settled over the courtyard like a warm blanket.

“Rise, Tooru, Tobio,” he said gently. “You are still injured from your last mission. Do not exert yourselves for propriety.”

Smoothly, Oikawa and Tobio rose from their bows but kept their heads ducked.

“I am very proud of the two of you, as well as Koutarou, Keiji and Shouyou,” Oyakata-sama smiled. “Your generation is proving to be remarkable. Killing yet another upper moon is no small feat.”

“We have been unable to locate upper moons five and above,” Oikawa said. “I’m deeply sorry for our incompetence, Oyakata-sama.”

“None of that,” Oyakata-sama admonished. “Do not punish yourselves for crimes which have not been committed.” He turned his gaze on Tobio. 

“Tobio, I commend you on yet another great accomplishment by Tooru’s side,” he said, cocking his head slightly. “I will ask you once again; do you not wish to become a hashira?”

“No, Oyakata-sama,” Tobio said decisively, like he had the two other times he’d been asked. “I am alright as a tsuguko.”

Oyakata-sama sighed. “Very well. Still, your frost breathing style is remarkable. I would ask you to please consider teaching it to another slayer, so that we may begin to incorporate another breathing style into the Corps.”

Tobio shifted uncomfortably. “Oyakata-sama, only hashira take students…”

“There is no need for you to set up a school,” Oyakata-sama said gently. “I merely ask you to consider teaching the basics to anyone who asks.”

Tobio bit his lip, then nodded. “Very well, Oyakata-sama. As you wish.”

“Tobio-chan, there is something I must discuss with Oyakata-sama in private,” Oikawa said. “Do you mind waiting for me by the entrance?”

It wasn’t really a question. Tobio refrained from asking then why’d you even ask me to come with you and nodded silently, rising to his feet and bowing to Oyakata-sama before making his way out of the garden. The gates of the Ubuyashiki residence were lined in wisteria blossoms, as beautiful as ever. It was late spring- they were in full bloom, swaying gently in the breeze.

A few minutes later, Oikawa came out of the meeting, sighing. He glanced at Tobio in that strange way he’d been using ever since Tobio’d killed lower one, and then sighed again.

“Well. Let’s head back.”

The water estate was ripe with slayers, who burst into congratulatory applause as soon as they returned. 

“Congratulations, Oikawa-sama!” They cried in unison, and the clapping and cheering grated on Tobio’s ears. He grimaced, which didn’t go unnoticed by Oikawa, who pinched him lightly.

“Thank you everyone,” Oikawa laughed charmingly. “Let’s all endeavour to do better next time. When one of you slays an upper moon and takes my place, I’ll be right with you celebrating!” He winked, to another thunderous round of applause.

“It’s been a month since you killed upper six,” one of the slayers, Watari, said excitedly. “Oikawa-sama, you’re the second hashira to ever kill an upper moon!”

Oikawa laughed it off. “Well, we came behind Kuroo-chan anyway. Besides, it wasn’t just me: Bokuto-chan, his tsuguko Hinata-kun and Tobio-chan helped too!”

The slayers in the pavilion ooh-ed and aah-ed, none of them making reference to Tobio, which he was grateful for. Among the water breathing slayers, Tobio was greatly disliked, and he preferred it that way- even as Oikawa’s tsuguko, everyone ignored him, which meant he was largely invisible.

Still- if he was to obey Oyakata-sama’s orders, he’d likely have to start with someone learning water breathing. After all, his own breathing style was derived from water breathing. To find someone among these slayers that didn’t hate him would be much more a momentous task than simply killing a demon, though. 

Oikawa was being pulled away to join the celebrations, but he caught Tobio’s eye, clearly having read his thoughts on his face.

“Try the cadets,” he said seriously. “The ones who haven’t passed the final selection.”

Tobio opened his mouth to say that there was no way he was going to the training fields, but before he could say anything Oikawa was gone, swallowed up by the masses of his adoring fans, and there was nothing he could do. 

.

Tobio figured he could allow himself one day of procrastination before he’d go to the training fields to begin the grueling task of finding a student, but he wasn’t about to spend that day slacking off. Since his discharge his muscles had weakened slightly- he practiced his sword forms for six hours. 

The sky was darkening by the time he was finished, and his stomach was gnawing with hunger. His arms were shaking a little. He shook his head, dislodging several beads of sweat clinging onto his bangs, and trudged into his wing of the estate. 

“Announcement! Announcement!” Tobio looked up in shock, the sound of the kasugai crow outside echoing through the estate. He dropped his sword, hurrying on tired feet through the wooden hallways, out into the main courtyard where all the other slayers were gathering, murmuring amongst themselves. Oikawa was standing there too, frowning slightly.

“Announcement! Battle at the swordsmith village! Battle at the swordsmith village! Upper Moon Four, Upper Moon Five have been killed! Stone hashira Ushijima Wakatoshi and his tsuguko Goshiki Tsutomu have killed Upper Moon Five! Insect hashira Kita Shinsuke and his tsuguko Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu have killed Upper Moon Four!”

Tobio’s jaw dropped to the ground. There was a moment of disbelief, and then the courtyard erupted into cheers. 

“Three upper moons killed in a month!” Kindaichi cried, which set off another round of cheers, so loud and so catastrophic Tobio had to clap his hands over his ears. There were too many people in the courtyard. He felt a little overheated.

Oikawa caught his eye over the people crowding around him and celebrating. Go, he mouthed, and Tobio ducked his head in respect before squeezing past the others back into the now-deserted estate. It felt strangely eerie to walk through a place normally bustling with so many people, which was now empty except for the muffled sounds of cheering behind him.

Along the way he found his sword, which he took into his room before picking out his things for a bath. The others would likely be celebrating for a while longer, so he had the baths all to himself- it was a nice feeling. He washed his body and hair thoroughly in the hot water in silence.

By the time he made his way to the small private kitchen to make himself a small dinner, the others still weren’t done celebrating. He cooked rice and fish and soup by himself, the kitchen lit only by a few lamps. He felt a little bit like he wasn’t quite in his body. He still hadn’t come to terms with the news.

Three upper moons killed in a month. He was happy, he knew, but in a muted way, as if he was still in disbelief. 

Four, five and six, gone in quick succession just like that. Slowly, the corners of his mouth turned up the slightest bit. 

“I forgot what that looked like.”

Tobio looked up from the grilling fish on the stove so quickly that he nearly banged his head against a cabinet. Oikawa was standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe. His face was flushed slightly, as if he had been drinking.

“What?” Tobio’s mouth was dry.

“You're smiling,” Oikawa said. He pushed off the doorframe and came into the kitchen, peering over Tobio’s shoulder into the pan. Tobio felt the strange desire to shield his dinner from sight, even if it didn’t matter. “Haven’t seen you smile in a while.”

“Not much to smile about,” Tobio grumbled. His lips were straight again.

“Plenty to smile about now,” Oikawa countered, grinning. He leaned back against the counter this time. “Just three left, and then the big guy.”

Tobio swallowed sharply. “Why aren’t you out there with everyone else?”

“They started really getting into the drinking,” Oikawa sighed. “Didn’t exactly feel up to it.” He glanced down at the fish, grilling steadily in the pan. “Any for me?”

Tobio bit his lip. “There’s another piece in the icebox.”

“Great.” Oikawa pulled out the other piece of fish, and Tobio lowered it into the pan. The two of them ate in relative quiet, sipping soup and chewing rice. 

“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa said, looking at him seriously, when they were done with their food. “Have you been to the training fields yet?”

Tobio swallowed with difficulty. “Not today.”

Oikawa sighed. “Alright.” He didn’t say anything else, but he looked faintly disappointed. Tobio hated that expression.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” Tobio said through gritted teeth, and Oikawa raised an eyebrow at him.

“Will you?”

“I will,” Tobio said with emphasis. “Really.”

Oikawa clucked his tongue. “Okay, I believe you.” His tone made it clear he didn’t really. It pissed Tobio off how easily Oikawa could get under his skin. This was all obviously an act, meant to motivate Tobio to go out of spite. It was working.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Oikawa said. “Get some sleep.” 

Just to be contrary, Tobio washed the dishes, though he supposed that was probably part of Oikawa’s plan too. “Jackass,” he mumbled under his breath when he was sure that Oikawa was gone. 

The next morning, Oikawa was called to a pillar meeting, and Tobio didn’t go inside with him. None of the other tsuguko did- they all lingered outside the meeting room, talking amongst themselves, though to be fair he didn’t know all the tsuguko so he wasn’t sure if they were all there. Tobio remained quiet, staring at a branch of a wisteria tree. He felt a little sick with the knowledge that he’d have to go talk to the trainees today.

“Hey!”

Tobio glanced to his side- it was Hinata, the flame hashira’s tsuguko, the one with the annoying orange hair.

“What?” He knew his tone was too brusque and didn’t care. 

“Have you recovered yet?” Hinata asked brightly. “Upper six did fling you pretty far!”

Tobio scowled at the memory of the burning pain along his spine he’d endured that night. “I’m fine.” He pointedly didn’t ask after Hinata’s injuries, but it was like the other tsuguko didn’t care that Tobio obviously didn’t want to talk to him.

“What do you think they’re meeting about?” Hinata asked curiously. “Bokuto-san didn’t know either!”

“No idea.” Tobio said curtly, hoping Hinata would take the hint.

“I think it’s gonna be a plan to kill the other three upper moons!” Hinata crowed. No luck. “We’ve been successful so far!”

Tobio scoffed. “Don’t get cocky,” he said harshly. “We got lucky against upper six.”

Hinata frowned. “Still- taking out upper four and five in one go was huge!”

Tobio turned his face away. Hinata was right- it was huge. Oyakata-sama’s daughter emerged then, and they all lined up and bowed to her. She bowed neatly back.

“Oyakata-sama requests the presence of the water tsuguko,” she said in her dreamy, eerie tone. “Please follow me.”

Hinata’s eyes bugged out of his head, but Tobio bit his lip and followed her. He’d never sat in on a proper, serious hashira meeting before.

“The water tsuguko, Kageyama Tobio,” Oyakata-sama’s daughter said when they reached the meeting room. Tobio bowed deeply. All the other hashira were in the room- two of them accompanied by their tsuguko.

Tobio straightened up, meeting Oikawa’s eye. He went to sit behind him, catching a glance of the other three tsuguko in the room: the Miya twins with the insect hashira Kita-san, and… he didn’t know the name of the purple bowl cut sitting next to Ushijima the stone hashira.

“Tobio,” Oyakata-sama said, smiling. “I’m sorry to pull you into this meeting like this.”

Tobio bowed his head, keeping silent. He didn’t know what to say.

“When you fought Lower Moon One,” Oyakata-sama continued. “Did you feel as if your body changed?”

Tobio frowned. “What?” His memories of his battle against lower one were spotty at best- it seemed his mind had blocked everything out, or maybe he’d just been so exhausted it hardly mattered.

“When we fought upper four, Tsumu and I unlocked something called the demon slayer mark, and this happened to Kita-san, Ushijima-san and his tsuguko too,” Miya Osamu said to him, his face serious, though white bandages covered one side of his face, clearly from his recent battle. “Our bodies heated up past 40 degrees, our heart rate surpassed 200 beats per minute, and there was this curious… mark on our faces.”

Tobio scrunched his face up. “I… I don’t remember what happened exactly, but my temperature definitely didn’t reach 40 degrees. I was… I was pretty cold the whole time.”

Oyakata-sama hummed. “Yes, of course- the nature of your breathing style. It is, for now, the ultimate goal of all hashira and their tsuguko, as well as any slayer above the rank of hinoe, to activate this mark.”

Tobio stiffened. He and Oikawa, along with everyone else in the room, bowed their heads promptly. “Yes, Oyakata-sama!” They chanted in unison.

“In the meantime, Kibutsuji Muzan has recalled all demons from across the country. I have reason to believe he is preparing to launch an all-out attack,” Oyakata-sama said grimly. “Thus, I’d like to propose a hashira training period, of sorts. Our aim will be to rapidly and significantly increase the overall skill level of the entire Corps by organising training camps with each hashira.”

Tobio’s eyes widened. There was a general murmur that swept through the room, but it fizzled out quickly in respect.

“This hashira training will begin in two days,” Oyakata-sama continued. “Please take these two days to design a training plan you believe will help your slayers.” He sighed. “One last thing. According to records we have long-since kept, any slayer who activates their demon slayer mark… will not live past the age of 25.”

Tobio felt his blood run cold. What? He glanced at the two hashira and their tsuguko, who didn’t look surprised but rather resigned. 

“The demon slayer mark is effectively a death sentence,” Ushijima said impassively. “Still, that is what we signed up for when we entered the Corps.”

Tobio stared down at his lap. He was, in the back of his mind, a little relieved that he hadn’t activated the mark in his battle against lower one, but he was also ashamed of himself for thinking so. He was a slayer- he should have had no fear of death. 

“Many of our tsuguko are very young,” Oikawa finally spoke up. Tobio was sitting a little behind him, so he couldn’t see his face, but his form was tense and his scent was faintly unhappy. “This is… quite a hefty price to pay.”

“I understand this is too much to ask of you,” Oyakata-sama said gently. “To those that wish not to activate the mark, I would not demand it of you.”

“No, no,” Oikawa replied quickly, shaking his head. “If this is the price to pay to defeat Kibutsuji, we would all gladly give up our lives right this moment.” Everyone in the room bowed their heads in assent. 

“Somehow it feels a little freeing,” Kuroo-san, the wind hashira, said lightly. “Before, we didn’t know when we’d die or if we’d make it to the next day. To have a set price to pay… it’s not so bad to think about.”

The serpent hashira scoffed. “Leave it to you to simplify the situation so immensely,” he said mockingly. “We could still die at any moment, Kuroo.”

“Man, Daishou, why do you have to put it that way!” Kuroo-san said in a falsely annoyed tone. “You’ll never get a tsuguko at this rate!”

“Tetsuro, Suguru,” Oyakata-sama said mildly, and the two of them settled down immediately, bowing in apology. “I won’t keep any of you for much longer. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today.”

“Thank you, Oyakata-sama,” everyone chorused, bowing again. “Goodbye.”

All the other tsuguko were gathered by the entrance to the estate, each of them branching off to go to their respective hashira. Oikawa stopped to chat with Kita-san and Sawamura-san, the thunder hashira, so Tobio lingered awkwardly beside him.

“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa said absentmindedly, “Now might be a good time to visit the training fields.”

Tobio could feel his face go pale. “Yes, Oikawa-san,” he replied numbly, and then turned around and headed back towards the water estate.

The water breathing cadet training fields were a good three miles away from the estate. There were two teachers, each responsible for ten or fifteen students a year. Tobio hadn’t been back here since he himself had trained in these fields.

One of the instructors, Sato-san, stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Tobio.

“Kageyama-kun, what brings you here?” He asked warily. Tobio shifted his weight onto his other foot uncomfortably.

“I…” He wasn’t sure how to say that Oyakata-sama had asked him to find a student- it’d be like poaching slayers from water breathing. “I came to observe the students. Oikawa-san asked me to.” If Oikawa was going to be a jerk he could at least be a jerk whose jerkiness Tobio could exploit.

At the mention of Oikawa’s name, Sato-san relaxed a little. “Very well.”

There were six students on the field at the moment. Five were male, three of whom were alphas and the other two betas, and the last was a petite omega girl with short blonde hair who looked so terrified you would think she was staring down Kibutsuji Muzan himself.

“Who are they?” Tobio asked. Sato-san sighed. 

“In order from left to right, we have Miyamura, Iida, Nagata, Iwasaki, Tanizaki and Yachi.”

Tobio frowned. “The last one… Yachi… she looks very young.”

Sato-san shrugged. “I honestly don’t think she’s going to make it past the final selection. Poor girl- she joined because she had nowhere else to go after her family died to demons, but she doesn’t have the strength to even cut a straw dummy, let alone a demon. I think she was malnourished as a child or something, because no matter how much she trains she doesn’t get stronger. Timid, too. She’ll probably go to the Butterfly Estate or the kakushi.”

The trainees caught sight of him and they all tensed, except for Yachi, who squeaked and scrambled back a little. Tobio scowled- was he that scary? 

“How is their training progressing?”

“Except for Yachi, the others are on track to pass the final selection,” Sato-san said. “None are particularly exceptional the way you or Oikawa-sama were, but they’ll make competent slayers.”

Tobio gritted his teeth. He didn’t like the sound of that- that meant they would be fully committed to water breathing. There was no point in tearing someone already excelling in a specific breathing style away to make them adapt to a new one.

“Pull Yachi out of practice. I want to speak to her in the side field.”

Sato-san looked at him strangely and pursed his lips. “Alright.”

Tobio waited for Sato-san to pull Yachi out in a field which was seldom used- it was too small for full classes, so it was really only the overzealous students who ever went there. A few moments later, Yachi stumbled onto the field, looking even more terrified than before. Her face was snow-white from nerves and she was gripping her training sword so tight her veins were bulging out.

“H-hello Kageyama-sama!” She blurted, and bowed ninety degrees. Tobio almost choked on thin air.

“Don’t bow!” He yelled, and she squeaked and bowed even deeper for a second before snapping straight upright like someone had pulled a drawstring on her spine.

“Sorry!” She cried, and to Tobio’s horror there were tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t cry!” He said loudly in panic, and she looked even more terrified. 

“I’m so sorry!”

Tobio took a deep breath. He was scaring her- he’d expected this. 

“I- okay,” he said, trying to sound gentle, and it obviously wasn’t working but at least she didn’t look like she thought he was going to kill her on the spot anymore. “You’re- you’re not in trouble or anything. I wanted to ask you something.”

“O-okay!” Yachi said, clearly trying to be brave. “A-anything at all!”

Tobio shifted uncomfortably. “Are you… having trouble with water breathing?”

Immediately she tensed up again. “N-not at all! Wait, but sort of? But not really,” she babbled, stumbling over her words. “I mean- I’m not as strong as everyone else in the class but it’s just my problem! It’s not Sato-san’s fault, he tries really hard to help me and I train a lot but I can never get anything down, and I’m probably going to die in the final selection and I’m scared of demons so I’m probably gonna get sent to the Butterfly Estate or become a kakushi but I don’t want to and I-”

Tobio was having trouble keeping up with her endless stream of words, and clearly she could tell, because she tried valiantly to stop herself and ended up almost choking on her tongue. After she’d gotten over her coughing fit, she slumped a little and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said glumly. “I don’t know- I’m sorry, Kageyama-sama.”

“Don’t call me that, we’re the same age,” Tobio said, grimacing. “I- okay, look.” He took a moment to try and organise his thoughts.

“Do you want to be a demon slayer?” He asked her slowly. She nodded back, just as slowly, though the resigned look in her eye made it clear she didn’t think she could do it.

“You say you’re not as strong as the others in your class, and that you’re scared of demons. Why is that?”

“Well,” she began hesitantly, “I don’t really have muscle. I have no swinging strength, so I can’t cut the head off a demon. Demons move so fast, and they’re so strong- I always tense up and freeze.”

Tobio breathed out. He could work with that. “What if there was a way you could kill demons without swinging strength or cutting their head off? And that you could make them stop moving so it doesn’t matter if they’re fast or strong?”

Her eyes went wide. “What?”

Tobio tried to gather all the courage he had. If he could kill a lower moon, he could do this.

“I think you should try my breathing style.”

.

By the end of the day, after a lot of stressful discussion with Sato-san, Tobio had a student. Yachi was following him back to the water estate awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of her light pink haori and shuffling her feet. Tobio didn’t know what to say, so he stayed quiet- though he suspected his silence wasn’t helping either.

“U-um, Kageyama-san…”

“What?” He winced- his voice had come out a little harsher than intended, but he was stressed and tired and wanted to train and eat.

Yachi flinched a bit, but soldiered on bravely. “I was just wondering why you wanted to train me?” Her voice was shaky but it was clear she truly wanted to know.

“Oyakata-sama wanted me to teach my breathing style to someone.” Tobio said. “The slayers that are already doing well with their breathing styles won’t change it easily. So I picked you because you said you’re having trouble.”

Yachi squeaked in embarrassment. “Ah- I’m so sorry!”

“Why are you sorry?” He asked, confused. “It’s a good thing. I wouldn’t have been able to complete Oyakata-sama’s request otherwise.”

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at water breathing,” she said glumly. “I don’t want to bother you. I’m probably hopeless anyway.”

Tobio shrugged. “I think frost breathing might work for you. If you end up being a kakushi or an attendant at the Butterfly Estate anyway, you might as well try all your options first.”

She looked at him strangely for a second. “Okay,” she said quietly, but she seemed a little more stable.

Tobio showed her to one of the spare rooms in his wing of the estate, and sent an attendant to bring her basic things beyond what little luggage she’d brought from the training facilities. 

“Tomorrow morning at seven, in the field behind this wing, we’ll begin your training,” he told her. “Get enough rest and food.”

.

Training Yachi wasn’t fun.

She actually wasn’t doing too bad. She was clearly smart and determined, and even if she flinched and cried every time he corrected her she never gave up. Still, he didn’t enjoy making her flinch and cry just because he tended to yell. It was hard toning himself down, especially because he had no idea how to teach.

She was actually making good progress. She had good instincts and reflexes, even if she was weaker and slower than Tobio had been when he was seven.

Before long, though, there were others.
Apparently, as shy as Yachi was, she still often talked to other young omega slayers struggling in their respective breathing styles. There was a reason why high-ranking omega slayers were so rare- total concentrated breathing was harder for omegas, and many of the conventional breathing styles called for a measure of brute force that simply wasn’t attainable. The Corps wasn’t totally bereft of omegas, it was just that omega slayers never tended to survive long enough to attain hashira status, or a higher rank.

Tobio knew he was lucky. He had been born tall and strong, perhaps even taller and stronger than many of the alphas he’d trained alongside. It was part of the reason he’d been so disliked- a mere omega, attaining better training results than the alphas and betas in his cohort? It was almost unthinkable. In some cases, his omega physiology helped him- he was lithe and fast, flexible and strong-limbed. 

Still. He would never be as physically capable as Oikawa. Even the annoying orange flame tsuguko, Hinata, was physically stronger than he was, even if he was half Tobio’s height. Worse, he would always be looked down on, even by those weaker than him.

Perhaps Tobio preferred being looked down on than being looked up to, he thought, horrified, looking at the five young omegas lingering in his courtyard nervously. Apparently, after they’d heard about Yachi’s progress and potential in frost breathing, they’d all come to ask if they could give it a try too.

“Frost breathing may be more suited for omegas than alphas or betas, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be good at it simply for being an omega,” Tobio said harshly. He saw no reason to mince his words. “Anyone who just gives up on a breathing style they’ve been training in their entire life simply because they can’t find fault with themselves is pathetic." He was aware his words were mildly hypocritical, but frost breathing had broken through a ceiling he’d been pushing against his entire life- that maddening feeling that he’d reached the peak of his potential with water breathing and still couldn’t beat Oikawa, still wasn’t worthy of being the next water hashira after his grandfather.

The omegas flinched, but they held determined steel in their eyes.

“I’ve been training in wind breathing since I was four,” one of them said. He gripped his red-and-yellow nichirin sword tightly. “Kuroo-sama was always kind to me, but no matter how hard I pushed myself, I could never be as physically strong as the others.” His green eyes were cold with resolve. “I refuse to give up on myself, Kageyama-san!”

Tobio breathed in deeply. “I’m not a good teacher,” he said, his voice low with warning. “I’ve never had students before. If you train with me, I’ll work you harder than any hashira ever would and I’ll offer no comfort when you fail.” He swept a challenging gaze over the omegas in front of him. “With that in mind, you’re free to leave.”

“No!” The five of them chorused loudly in unison, and Tobio sighed, exasperated. 

“Fine.” Fifteen minutes later, he’d gotten them ready to begin training. 

“Frost breathing was developed as an offshoot of water breathing,” Tobio began, his six students (wasn’t that a weird thought) lined up in the field, holding wooden swords. “It takes advantage of flexibility, speed, and thrusting strength instead of swinging strength. With frost breathing, you can incapacitate a demon, rendering them unable to move, without brute force. The essence of this breathing style is detail and pinpoint accuracy- you must strike precisely where the demon is weakest, and you must strike with such speed and accuracy that they can’t react in time.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s much harder to wield and master than water breathing, but isn’t necessarily more effective or stronger. Keep that in mind.”

He drew his nichirin sword, the pale blue gleam shimmering in the sunlight. “If you stay with this breathing style, you’ll need new swords. A traditional katana is too heavy and thick.”

“How did you come up with frost breathing, Kageyama-san?” One of his students, Kataoka, asked. She tilted her head slightly, her blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder and revealing a half-faded mating mark. Tobio tensed, but paid it no heed.

“I had no other choice,” Tobio said shortly. “Water breathing wasn’t working, so I had to adapt. The demon I was fighting split my nichirin blade in two right down the middle.”

Lower Moon One had been a brutishly-strong alpha demon, covered head to toe in gleaming cords of muscle. Still, it wasn’t stupid- it struck with unmatched precision, and a mocking grin had stayed on its face the entire battle.

“Silly omega slayer,” he’d taunted as Tobio stared down in despair at his broken weapon. “You’re no match for me! In terms of strength, speed, and endurance, I win every time! Why don’t you submit like you’re meant to, and I might keep you alive for your pretty face!”

When Tobio was at his absolute angriest, his face didn’t get red like the others’ would. He didn’t swell up in rage, his body didn’t heat up, and his temper wouldn’t flare like normal. On the contrary, ever since he’d been a kid, whenever he was truly, truly consumed with anger, his entire body would cool down like his emotions could no longer sustain themselves, like the very blood in his veins was freezing with cold rage.

Was it because he was human and not demon, omega and not alpha, that this utter piece of shit was talking down to him like his strength meant nothing? Was it because the broken bodies of the same slayers that had sneered at him during training were strewn, bloodied and bruised, around him? Was it because Tobio would never be the water hashira?

It didn’t matter. All he knew was that his skin was tingling with ice, and when he breathed out his breath crystallised in the air. His vision went red, and he remembered nothing else of the resulting battle, only the eventual, satisfying thump of the demon’s severed head hitting the ground as the sun slowly rose over the treetops.

“You must move on instinct,” he told the omegas. “Feel where your opponent’s weak spots are, and block everything else out. Go right for where it hurts, but don’t linger there- move on to the next weak spot immediately.”

He could tell they were confused, and his face scrunched up. He didn’t know how to explain how he could see his enemies’ weak points, only that it was as natural and instinctive as breathing. 

“Frost breathing has ten forms,” he continued. “You won’t start learning them until you can prove to me that you have the necessary speed and instincts to pull them off without making me want to claw my own eyes out.”

So he had them run laps, chased them with the same relentless ferocity that a demon would show, beat them until they were black and blue to get their reflexes up to speed, and stretched them out on makeshift torture machines to loosen their joints and muscles. There were more than a few tears, and the butterfly attendants he called over to the estate to help tend to their wounds every night kept shooting him dirty looks, but he didn’t care. None of them had complained or given up, so he wasn’t about to go easy on them.

Their training was going well. Within a month of intense practice they’d begun learning the first few forms, and they were even doing relatively well. New swords had arrived to match Tobio’s, and he allowed them ten minutes of ooh-ing and aah-ing over the unique designs before he sent them all off for drills. 

Every single one of the blades had turned icy blue. Some had been lighter than others, some had been darker, but he could breathe out a sigh of relief that they were all at least somewhat suited for frost breathing. As a reward, he went out into town and bought them each a snowflake hairpin to wear. The glimmering, excited gratitude he’d gotten in return had been very uncomfortable. 

Even if all of them (including Tobio, at times) ended each day exhausted and sore, the hashira training period felt relatively idyllic, because there was no fear of death. Still, the looming threat of Kibutsuji Muzan’s mounting all-out attack was approaching. The night the other foot dropped was a night like any other, a night Tobio had foolishly made the mistake of letting his guard down on.

All of his students had just gone to sleep- it was late at night, and Tobio was making his last patrols before heading to get some rest himself. The water estate, particularly his wing, was quiet. Just as he passed the last gate before his wing, he ran into Oikawa.

“Have some tea with me,” was all Oikawa said, and Tobio nodded numbly. They sat in a room looking up at the moon, sipping dark tea. 

“How are your students doing?” Oikawa asked, and Tobio gave him a concise report. “They’re progressing," Tobio said, scowling, “but not fast enough. They’re definitely more capable slayers with frost breathing than with their original styles, but even the most skilled of them won’t last ten seconds against an upper moon.”

Oikawa sighed. “Same here. The water breathing slayers are definitely much stronger than they were before, but I still worry.”

“What was hashira training like?” Tobio asked curiously, still a little upset he hadn’t been allowed to participate. Oikawa gave him a half-grin, shrugging.

“I had them practicing how to think of their blades as an extension of themselves,” he said, sighing. “You remember what it was like. The same exercise Kazuyo-san had us do with the ropes.”

Tobio fell silent. He did remember. It had been one of his grandfather’s favourite training drills- he’d tied their blades to their hands, making them unable to grip the swords as if their arms had simply elongated. It was unnatural and awkward and grueling, but it made fighting with a regular grip seem a hundred times easier and smoother in comparison.

“My training was probably paradise compared to Ushiwaka’s though,” Oikawa said, wrinkling his nose in the way he did whenever he talked about Ushijima. “I think he literally just beat them up the entire time. Ugh, how uncouth.”

Tobio bit back a laugh. Sometimes Oikawa reminded him of a middle-aged housewife, with how dramatic he could get at times.

“Tobio-chan…” Oikawa sighed out of nowhere after a few seconds of comfortable silence. “Don’t hold yourself back.”

Tobio turned to look at him, confused. “What?”

Oikawa’s gaze was unflinching, his brown eyes hard. “You always let your anger control you.”

Tobio bristled. “Hah? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you should be a hashira,” Oikawa said coldly, and Tobio tensed up. 

“We’ve talked about this! I don’t want to be a hashira! I’m fine being your tsuguko!”

“It’s not about what you want!” Oikawa thundered, and Tobio’s mouth clicked shut. Oikawa had never been truly angry at him before- he’d certainly never raised his voice. He wasn’t the kind of man, wasn’t the kind of alpha, to have a temper that could turn on a moment like that. Tobio had never really thought too hard about the implications of Oikawa being an alpha beyond their physical differences and the unfairness brought with biological capacity, but from the burning scent in the air, he would have to acknowledge it now. He shrank back instinctively and hated himself for it.

Oikawa clearly noticed his reaction, and softened a little with noticeable effort. “You’re not my tsuguko,” he said firmly. “To be a hashira isn’t about what you want or don’t want. I didn’t choose to be a hashira, to carry all of water breathing on my shoulders. It’s a duty.”

To his horror, Tobio could feel his nose start to burn. “It’s not fair!” He yelled, knowing he sounded like a little kid. “I’m already fighting and risking my life! Why do I have to be a hashira?”

“Because you and I have the power to relieve the burdens of others,” Oikawa replied immediately. His voice was unwavering. “You are Kazuyo-san’s grandson. I’m not going to ask you to be the water hashira, but you have students. People like those omegas who look up to you.”

“Being a hashira doesn’t even mean anything!” Tobio cried. “Even though you’re a hashira, you could die just like that!” He tried desperately not to think about his grandfather’s blood soaking through his haori, warming his skin. He tried harder not to think about the nightmares he had every single night, of Oikawa’s throat slashed open, his brown eyes dull and unseeing, being devoured by a faceless, snarling demon.

“I could,” Oikawa agreed. “So could you. So could any other slayer. You can’t hide behind my back forever, Tobio-chan.”

“Fuck you,” Tobio spat. “I’m not a coward.”

“Prove it,” Oikawa said, lifting an eyebrow. “As I said, you’re not my tsuguko. You do little other than follow me on my missions. We don’t even practice the same breathing style. You use me as a protective shield.”

“I’ve never run away!” His eyes were burning, and he tried hard not to sniffle, but he knew Oikawa could tell anyway.

“Are you scared?” Oikawa asked calmly. “If so, then of what? Responsibility?”

“To hell with responsibility!” Tobio screamed, and his skin was cold and his blood was cold, and his fingers twitched, going numb with frost. “Responsibility doesn’t mean shit! Do you think jii-chan fulfilled his responsibility when he went and died on us and left us with nothing? Do you think he was a proper hashira?”

Oikawa’s gaze was firm and smooth, but his eyes blazed like he’d stripped Tobio bare, like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. Tobio hated him with a passion at that moment.

“You blame Kazuyo-san for dying,” he said. “That’s okay, I do too. I was scared just like you. I’m scared every day.” He reached out, taking Tobio’s hands in his. 

“I’m a hashira, but you’re right that I could die any day.” He stared right into Tobio's eyes. “I don’t want to leave you behind. Worse, I don’t want you to leave me behind. You’re all I have.”

“What about Iwaizumi-san and Kindaichi and Kunimi,” Tobio said weakly, even though he knew that wasn’t the point. He gave up on holding back and sniffed loudly, making Oikawa smirk a little.

“Iwa-chan is Iwa-chan, Tobio-chan is Tobio-chan,” Oikawa said simply. “I’m scared for you and I’m scared of you, but I don’t want you to run away. It’s not like you. Did you know I was jealous of you?”

Tobio froze, staring up at him in shock. “What?” Oikawa had always been so much stronger than him, and not only because he was an alpha. He was older, wiser, better, and he always seemed to know everything even if he was a jerk. 

“You had such natural talent,” Oikawa said distantly, like he was recalling old memories. “You picked up water breathing so easily even though you were younger than me. I was actually relieved when you stopped improving, even though I could tell how angry it made you. Then you went and developed your own breathing style overnight.” He gripped Tobio’s hands tighter. “Do you know how angry I was, how frustrated, when I saw you were willingly stunting your own potential because you were scared?” His voice was dark and deep. For the first time in his life, Tobio was a little afraid of Oikawa.

“Even if you don’t hold the same title I do, you have the burden of your students’ lives on your shoulders,” Oikawa said almost desperately, leaning closer to him. “Everyone who breathes the same way you do relies on you. That makes you a hashira.”

Tobio stared at him, shell-shocked. Then he came to a realization that made him colder than he’d ever been in his life, and the worst part was that he only realised it because he knew Oikawa so well, and Oikawa likely didn’t even know himself.

“You want me to be a hashira so that if I die, it won’t be on your shoulders.” Tobio’s voice was ice. Oikawa’s face went sheet-white and he reeled back.

“What?” His voice was shaky, and Tobio knew he’d struck the jackpot.

“You’re the one who can’t bear responsibility!” Tobio cried, and the first tear spilled out of his eyes and rolled down his cheek. “You just don’t want me to rely on you! Well, guess what! I won’t! I’m not going to be a hashira, but if you want me to absolve you of your responsibility, then fine! I won’t be your tsuguko anymore either!” He struggled to his feet, his task made difficult by the iron grip Oikawa maintained on his hands, and tugged hard, trying to escape.

“No,” Oikawa said weakly. “Don’t leave.” His grip grew tighter. “Tobio!”

Tobio hardly registered that he’d dropped the ever-annoying chan. He pulled hard, trying to break free, but couldn’t escape Oikawa’s alphan strength. Frustration welled up in his chest and he strained until his wrists creaked in alarm.

“Let me go!”

“Never!” Oikawa bellowed, and then with a single caw, a kakushi crow arrived to turn Tobio’s world upside down.

“Emergency summons!” Oikawa’s crow screeched, waking the entire compound. “Attack on the Ubuyashiki estate! Attack on the Ubuyashiki estate!”

Red-hot horror swept through Tobio’s body. He hardly realized that Oikawa had let go of him in his shock before instinct took over and he drew his sword from its sheath in one smooth motion. The two of them leapt into action immediately- the distance from the water estate to Oyakata-sama’s mansion wasn’t far. They could make it in time- they had to.

Dimly, Tobio registered the other slayers from the water estate rousing and beginning to run after them, but he didn’t think of anything but to hurry. He ran faster than he ever had before, overtaking even the heavier Oikawa, but even as his heart leapt into his throat as the mansion came into view, he knew for a split second he’d been too late.

The mansion exploded into flames, sending out a shockwave that nearly knocked Tobio off his feet. Despair crawled its way up his throat. 

“Oyakata-sama!” He screamed, his throat raw, but nothing would change the fact that the smiling, gentle head of the Corps was dead, dead, dead.

In the middle of the blasted earth where the mansion had once been was a man with curly black hair. Tobio’s heart leapt into his throat- Ushijima was there, locked in deadly combat with the unknown man.
“It’s Kibutsuji Muzan!” Ushijima roared, and ice spread across Tobio’s veins. “This is Kibutsuji Muzan! He won’t die if you cut off his head! We must stall him until sunrise!”

A primal scream ripped out of Tobio, and he felt Oikawa at his side as they sprang forward at Kibutsuji. The source of all their pain, all their grief, all their fear- the demon himself was right there.

“Breath of frost, fifth form!” His sword glowed bright blue as he approached.

“Breath of water, third form!” The swishing of Oikawa’s waves roared through the night as the other hashira, having also arrived, converged upon Kibutsuji’s snarling form.

Kibutsuji’s foul mouth curved up in a hellish smirk. There was the twang of a biwa- and the ground fell out from under Tobio’s feet. 

.

In the resulting chaos, Tobio stuck by Oikawa’s side. The two of them raced through the infinity castle, killing every demon that crossed their path. Rage still coursed icy-cold through Tobio’s veins, and he swore he could see his breath clouding the air when he exhaled. Along the way they came across his students and about ten water breathing users, including Iwaizumi-san, Kindaichi and Kunimi, and their group slaughtered their way through the castle, in mad pursuit of the upper moons and Kibutsuji himself. 

“Breath of frost, second form: creeping winter chill!” Tobio spared a moment of pride for Yachi, whose bright sword produced a two-inch layer of ice across a snarling demon’s legs, immobilizing it as Shimabukuro appeared behind her.

“Breath of frost, third form: glacial spear!” Shimabukuro, the physically strongest of the lot, thrust his sword straight forward and through the demon’s chest, forcing it to lean back and expose its neck. Barely a heartbeat later, Iwaizumi-san’s sweeping blade decapitated it neatly with a rush of water.

“Nice, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelled, and Tobio glanced at Shimabukuro and Yachi, who were glowing with pride and happiness.

“Grip your sword tighter, you two!” He screeched, making them tense up. “You’re going to drop your weapon, idiots!” It wouldn’t do good to coddle them. 

“Yes, Kageyama-san!” They cried in unison, and their group continued on their relentless search.

Soon enough, they came upon a huge demon, its Blood Demon Art resembling the legs of a gargantuan octopus, tentacles twisting through the air and seizing slayers to slam their prone bodies against the walls of the castle. Its body was so huge that it blocked their way forward, and it was clearly much stronger than any other demon they’d encountered, though perhaps not strong enough to be an upper moon. It wouldn’t be a challenge for them.

In unison, Tobio and Oikawa leapt forward. Oikawa’s blade cut in a curling ribbon and Tobio struck it right in the roots of its tentacles, severing six of the eight immediately and carving out an opening for Oikawa to lunge forward and slice off its head neatly. 

“Woah,” Kindaichi said almost on instinct. Then he caught himself and shook his head like a dog. 

“Yes, yes, woah,” Iwaizumi-san laughed. “Way to show off, you two.”

Tobio shifted, still uncomfortable after he and Oikawa’s earlier fight, but this was clearly no time to be dawdling. They went on. 

Out of the blue, a paper screen erupted out of the wooden floor between him and Oikawa, cutting Tobio off from the rest of the group. Before he could react, the ground beneath him had disappeared, leaving him falling and screaming. He looked up in panic as Oikawa reached for him, but a building slammed out of nowhere into his side, knocking him hundreds- no, thousands of metres away. 

“Tobio!” Oikawa’s desperate roar of his name was all he heard. He was on his own.

What felt like an eternity of falling later, he managed to catch himself on a platform and pull himself to his feet. He was evidently much, much deeper in the castle than before. The area he was in was unfamiliar, of a markedly different style than the traditional buildings and sliding doors he’d seen earlier. A gleaming pond of lotus flowers stretched out in front of him, covered in wooden walkways like bridges. He slowly ascended the steps to an enormous red and blue building, glamorously painted. Inside, there were less lamps. The entire building was dimly lit, the walls glazed opulently with bronze and gold. It looked more like an exotic palace than a washitsu. 

An enormous set of heavy doors leaked a crack of bright white light into the dim hallways. Tobio pushed open the doors hesitantly and froze.

In the middle of yet another lotus pond covered in an expanse of the same wooden walkways as outside was a demon. Like most powerful demons, it was very obviously an alpha male. It had fluffy white hair immaculately styled into curling waves which fell perfectly around its face, smooth pale skin, and luminous shining pupils swirling with red and brown. It wore a gorgeous gold and black haori patterned with clouds and dragons. The zori it wore on its feet looked to be also made with pure, solid gold. 

More importantly, it was holding a severed leg covered in blood and was happily chewing away with its sharp teeth. At the sound of Tobio’s sharp inhale, it looked up. Its face was unnaturally handsome, so beautiful it almost hurt to look at, and its scent was so strong that Tobio’s nose burned even from almost fifty metres away: dark sandalwood and thick, heavy blood. Worst of all were the calligraphic words inscribed in its swirling eyes: Upper Two. 

Beside the demon was a sobbing omega. He was exquisitely pretty, dressed in a pure white wedding kimono stained dark with his blood. His severed leg stump was pouring blood onto the wooden walkway. The ceremonial white tsunokakushi headdress was lying a few metres away, stained with blood as well. The omega’s long dark tresses were decorated with lavish gold jewelry and combs, as if he was a bride from a noble household. 

“Ara, what’s this?” The demon asked, cocking its head curiously. It had a lilting, melodic voice. “How rude to interrupt a wedding ceremony.”

Tobio could barely find words. “Wedding ceremony?”

“Yes, this is my lovely bride, Hiroki-chan,” the demon sang. “We’re very happy together. Now, if you could just shoo, and leave us to our married life.”

“You’re eating him,” Tobio said distantly, rage creeping slowly up his chest like frost. “What do you mean, married?”

“We’ll be together forever this way,” the demon sighed. “Isn’t it romantic?” It ran an appraising eye down Tobio’s figure. “Though if you’re jealous, I can confidently say I’m quite flattered and tempted. You’re very beautiful, and I would be happy to consider you if I wasn’t quite so enamoured with Hiroki-chan.”

Hiroki moaned lowly from where he lay prone on the walkway. “Help,” he said weakly. “Help me…”

The demon made a shushing noise. “Hiroki-chan, we’re supposed to remain quiet during the ceremony,” it said in a tone like a teacher speaking to a young child. “Otherwise the gods may not recognise our union.”

“The gods,” Tobio said lowly, so incandescent with rage he could barely think. Blood was rushing through his veins and he gripped his sword tight. “Do not speak of the gods… with your insolent tongue!” He sprang forward and snatched Hiroki up in a tight grasp, landing neatly on a bridge far away from the demon.

“Are you alright?” He asked Hiroki worriedly, but the omega only looked up at him frantically. His mouth opened and he let out a bloody gurgle, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he died just like that. Tobio gasped sharply.

“We’re mated,” the demon sang. “You’ve killed him. How unfortunate.”

Indeed, there was an enormous bloody bite on Hiroki’s neck, leaking blood into Tobio’s uniform. To forcefully separate an omega from their bonded alpha was usually such a traumatic experience that it would kill the weaker ones, but surely just a few metres of physical separation wouldn’t count as a bond death! This bite, however, was deep and poisonous, so heavy with blood and claim that Tobio felt sick just looking at it. The demon’s teeth had carved so deeply into Hiroki’s neck that he could almost see bone. The claim did look toxic and strong enough to cause death in an instant.

“Are you surprised?” The demon asked mockingly, tilting its head. “I’m a very attentive alpha. So of course I’d like my omega to stay close to me.”

“If you hadn’t mauled him, nearly torn out his neck, severed his leg and eaten him…” Tobio said lowly, trying hard not to lose his temper even as frost began creeping over Hiroki’s dead body where his hands were gripping onto him, “He wouldn’t have been so weak and traumatised that a few metres of separation would’ve killed him!”

“Well, I wasn’t the one who pushed him over the edge,” the demon sighed. “Though you’ve made this much easier for me. Would you mind bringing him to me so I can finish our marriage ceremony?”

Tobio only stared at it in disbelief. “What?”

“Oh, well I suppose I’ve been rude,” the demon said as if surprised. “My name is Giran. It’s very nice to meet you. What’s your name, darling?”

“Don’t call me darling,” Tobio said quietly. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Ah, yes, you’re a slayer, of course. I can tell from your uniform,” Giran said gently as if it was talking to a child, in the same tone it’d used on Hiroki. “But you’re an omega. I’m very proud of you for making it this far in the infinity castle and not dying, but how can you hope to defeat me? From the looks of your uniform, you’re not even a hashira.”

Tobio bared his teeth. “So? An insignificant weakling like you doesn’t require a hashira to kill.”

Giran was silent for a moment, then it threw its head back and laughed. “Wow, so confident! I like your spunk, pretty omega! Too bad I don’t kill omega slayers, so you might want to move on.”

Tobio froze. “Huh?” It made no sense. It’d just been eating an omega a second ago, so any possibility of some twisted moral obligation wasn’t possible.

“You heard me,” Giran continued. “I don’t kill omega slayers. I think it’s very commendable for omegas like you to try so hard to be strong, so I don’t want to discourage you all by killing you. After all, omegas are so weak.” Its tone was dismissive but encouraging, as if the bullshit it was spewing was mainly a fact.

“You were eating Hiroki,” Tobio said lowly. “What the fuck are you saying?”

“That’s different,” Giran clucked its tongue in admonishment. “Hiroki-chan and I were mated, about to be married. I wasn’t killing him. It was love.”

“Love,” Tobio choked. “You call that love?”

“It’s my obligation as an alpha to keep my omega safe,” Giran explained calmly. “So I kept Hiroki-chan with me, as close as possible. Now no one can hurt him. Well, except for you- but I’ll give you a pass since you’re so pretty.”

“Cut the bullshit!” Tobio yelled in rage. “Love? Married? Keep him safe? What a load of shit!”

Giran’s eyes widened, and it laughed in delight. “Oh, I see! You’re jealous! That’s why you keep wanting to attack me even though I’m letting you go!” Its eyes darkened with desire and hunger, licking its lips. “Well, darling, if you’d really like to be my next wife, then I’m perfectly alright with that. As I said, you’re very beautiful, so I’m excited for our loving marriage! Let’s be together forever. Still, to have a happy marriage, I must insist you tell me your name first.”

Roiling disgust rose in Tobio’s chest and he had to fight to keep the bile in his throat down. Icy rage was gathering in every inch of his body. The air around him was so cold that the warmth from the adrenaline in his veins was taking a backseat to the frost under his skin.

“My name?” He asked coldly. His lips curled into a small smile, so angry he couldn’t even act like it. “Very well. I’ll give you my name. I am Kageyama Tobio. Remember the weak omega who’s going to kill you.” Just as he leapt forward to attack, the demon cried out in recognition, stopping Tobio dead in his tracks.

“Kageyama!” It said in shock. “Oh, I recognise that name!”

“What?” Tobio’s tongue was heavy in his mouth at the implication. 

“Maybe he was your father? No, you look very young… your grandfather then?” Giran looked contemplative. “He was a water hashira… quite strong too! Not strong enough, but that’s alright.”

Jii-chan.

“You… you’re the one who killed jii-chan,” Tobio breathed slowly. His grip on his sword slackened in shock. 

“I don’t think you use water breathing, from the weird way your sword looks,” Giran said musingly, peering at Tobio closely. “Hmm, strange. Perhaps it’s because you’re an omega. Your grandfather was quite protective of you, you know? He wanted you to have a good, long life. He said these words to me: I fight disgusting demons like you so my beloved grandson can grow up safe and happy. Wow, how fate works in mysterious ways!”

Tobio’s body was stiff with fiery shock. His breath was coming out too fast, heating his entire body. This was the demon that had left his beloved, strong grandfather bleeding out in his arms.

“Where’s that alpha that came rushing to his aid?” Giran asked, cocking its head. “He was quite handsome. Obviously he was weak, so weak that I had no problem escaping, but from the way your grandfather yelled to him I was assuming he was your mate. What was his name- Tooru-kun, was it?” It adopted the deeper tone of an older man in an instant. “Tooru, run! Take care of my grandson, don’t be foolish! ”

Giran took a closer look at Tobio’s face. “Oh, no,” it said in a sad tone. “You look upset. Is Tooru-kun dead? Or did he leave you for another omega? Don’t worry, my darling Tobio-chan. I’ll take care of you. You’re going to be happy and safe by my side. I’ll show you how a loving alpha takes care of his omega.”

“Take Oikawa-san’s name…” Tobio said, “out of your fucking mouth!” 

Breath of frost, fourth form: Freeze-thaw weathering! 

There was a sickening squelch as Tobio’s blade sank deep into Giran’s chest. Its eyes widened in shock, before narrowing in something approximating pleasure.

“Yes, just like that!” It cried. “Show me your passion!”

Gritting his teeth, Tobio wrenched his blade out of its chest and braced himself. First form: Cruel stalactite! Shifting back on his feet, he thrust his sword forward in three quick jabs, aiming at its shoulder joints and pelvis, where movement would be the most restricted, but it danced out of his way, lightning fast.
“Oops! Gotta be careful,” it said lightly, white hair swaying. To Tobio’s ire, it wasn’t attacking back at all, merely dancing out of the way of his blade just in time, like it was toying with him. Growling, he upped his speed. Sixth form: Unrelenting frost heave! This time, his blade finally nicked Giran’s cheek- in a flash, the demon disappeared, and Tobio’s heart leapt into his throat. What’s going on?

“My, my, so aggressive,” a voice sighed in his ear. Tobio whipped his head around to come face-to-face with Giran’s grinning mouth, baring sharp teeth. “Wouldn’t want to hurt your alpha, darling. You won’t be able to please anyone like that.”

“Shut up!” Tobio snarled, pivoting immediately to match the demon’s speed. Second form: Creeping winter chill! Ice crystals bloomed across Giran’s arm, which had come up to block the attack, growing outward rapidly as the temperature plummeted. 

“You really are fast,” Giran said in a mock-admiring tone. Its face was dreamy and besotted, its eyes hazy. “Woah… I think I really am in love. You’re so capable… for an omega, that is.”

“Go fuck yourself!” Tobio screamed, moving so fast his blade was a blur. Eighth form: Absolute zero despair! 

“You know, I’m proud of you, darling,” Giran continued in that infuriating, patronizing voice. “You really have made it so far. Your grandfather wasn’t nearly this naturally talented, you know. Oh, he was stronger- but you’re much faster, and you have good reflexes too. Still, pretty omegas like you should know your place.” Its tone deepened with danger- Tobio tensed, settling back on his heels to dodge, but he wasn’t fast enough. In a flash, Giran was up in his face, delicately touching two fingers to Tobio’s chest. 

“Blood Demon Art,” Giran whispered intimately, smiling. “Blood Blossom.”

For a second, nothing happened. Then Tobio gasped, agony cracking across where Giran had touched him. He looked down as the demon leapt back nimbly a few metres. On his chest, over his uniform, tiny crimson flowers were blooming, unfurling from his skin. They burned like frostbite, or fire- either way, it hurt. 

“Those are my blood blossoms,” Giran sighed happily. “Aren’t they pretty? They’re poisonous, you know, fatal. Soon they’ll be leaching all the strength out of you and you’ll collapse right into my arms.” Dreamily, it licked its lips. “How romantic.”

Snarling, Tobio wiped the flowers off his chest with his sleeve, careful not to let his hands touch the soft petals. They didn’t bloom forward again, but the pain lingered. The flowers had corroded right through the fabric of his uniform, leaving a small hole in the fabric, and he could see the skin underneath was turning a sickly purple-red colour. Poisonous indeed. That meant he didn’t have much time.

He looked up, at where Giran was standing lazily in the centre of the bridge. All around him, the flowers that had initially looked like lotuses in the ponds were blooming outward, gleaming a bright, dangerous crimson. Instinctively, Tobio knew that if he touched a single one of those flowers, he would be facing the effects of the Blood Demon Art again. 

“Breath of frost, third form: Glacial spear,” Tobio said quietly, taking a deep breath. Giran tilted its head. “Hmm?”

Scarcely a heartbeat later, Tobio’s sword was buried deep in Giran’s chest. The impact of the blow was enough to send the demon flying backward, slamming against the wall at the far end of the room. Tobio’s momentum carried him forward, and he refused to give Giran a second to recover. Fifth form: Torrential icestorm! His instincts, which had always told him which weak points to strike, couldn’t read the demon in front of him, but it would have to be fine. After all, everyone had common weak points- the joints.

He struck once, twice, three times, four then five and twenty-three times in total, slamming the tip of his blade into all of the demon’s joints over and over. It didn’t react much except to gasp and twitch, but Tobio knew better than to think it would be that easy. Just as he’d predicted, as he went in for a single harder thrust, Giran’s hand shot up and gripped his blade tightly.

Shit. Tobio tugged back with all his strength, but it evidently wouldn’t be enough. Not only was this an alpha, it was upper two: there was no way he would be physically strong enough. Crimson flowers and vines began creeping up the length of his sword. Horrified, Tobio pulled harder, and twisted his sword from side to side, but Giran’s grip wasn’t budging. 

“Good effort,” the demon sighed. “You did so well, it truly moves my heart.” It smiled up at him menacingly. Those vines began extending out from behind it, curving dangerously in the air as flowers exploded outward from where it was slumped against the wall. Cursing, Tobio abandoned his sword, leaping back to safety, as the entire area where Giran was sitting burst into bloom.

Giran stood up casually, discarding his sword to one side. It cracked its neck lazily and smiled at him again. “You can do this,” it encouraged, and narrowed its eyes sensually. “I’m waiting for you.”

Tobio’s eyes flicked over to his sword and he made a mad lunge for the hilt. Giran laughed mockingly as the vines flashed forward, but Tobio was faster. He used his flexibility to his advantage, ducking lower under the vine even as his waist twinged, and rolled over to pick up the hilt just in time to counter the burst of flowers in his face. Gripping the sword tight, he swung, slashing every single petal to a thousand bits. 

He just had to wait a little longer…

Just on time, Giran’s eyes widened in surprise as it tried to take a step forward and found it couldn’t. Tobio smirked. The ice he had planted in its chest with those deep strikes earlier was beginning to creep out of its flesh and skin even as the wound had long healed, stretching slowly out across its kimono. Where Tobio had struck his joints, frost was blooming even quicker than the crimson flowers, immobilizing the demon.

Now’s my chance! “Breath of frost, seventh form: Herald of spring!” Tobio slammed his sword forward fast enough that the energy from the swing produced a wave of heat, flash-melting all the ice on Giran’s body and sending sharp crystalline ice shooting through its muscles. The demon grunted in pain as Tobio crouched in front of it, willing his leg muscles to move faster. “Ninth form: dewdrop crystal!” He jumped up, as high as he possibly could, until he was looking down at Giran from above, and thrust his sword straight down vertically through its head, sending ice crystals deep into its brain. The demon choked, blood spurting from every orifice on its head, and Tobio gripped his blade and twisted his sword harshly to break up those ice crystals and further liquify its insides.

“Tenth form: Hoarfrost finality!” Come on, come on, come on, he screamed to himself, pushing his muscles to move faster, faster, before Giran could react and regenerate and move, before the demon could push past the ice keeping its joints in place. Tobio didn’t even wait to land from his jump. He thrust his blade as fast and hard as he possibly could, generating all the cold he could muster, through Giran’s soft neck. Frost enveloped the neck in an instant, making the flesh hard and brittle. Tobio gripped his sword tight, ready to twist and rotate as hard as he could to decapitate the demon.

There was a harsh pressure against his sword wrist and he cried out in pain on instinct, crashing to the ground and nearly dropping his sword. Giran was looking down at him with something resembling pity. The ice on its joints had long cracked, its head wound was healing, and the newly-formed frost on its neck was dripping and sluicing into water. Tobio’s blood boiled.

“Wow, you almost got me,” it said contemplatively. Its smile was gone, replaced by something very empty in its eyes. “It seems I healed just in time. You know what I hate most in an omega, darling? Betrayal.”

Tobio snarled, yanking his blade out to try again, but it wouldn’t relinquish its grip on his wrist. The familiar sharp agony of the crimson flowers blooming against his skin was coming again, and the poison from earlier was hurting more and more. 

“You really scared me, Tobio-chan, my darling,” it said mournfully. “I guess I’ll have to skip the romantic courting stage and go right to keeping you by my side, then.”

Tobio froze. No- it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t. A demon wouldn’t do that to a human.

This one would, his traitorous mind supplied. You saw it doing just that a few moments ago, to that poor omega Hiroki.

Giran twisted its hand sharply and Tobio cried out in pain as his arm was forced into an awkward angle to avoid breaking. It grabbed his other wrist before Tobio could react, gripping him firmly in place as it turned him around so his back was to its chest.

“I’m glad you’ve worn your hair up today,” it sighed as a crimson vine lovingly brushed his ponytail out of the way to expose the back of his neck. Terror, plain and simple, was all that Tobio felt in that moment. He struggled and fought with everything he had but there was no combating pure, raw strength. 

“I don’t normally do this so soon after the last marriage, but this must be divine intervention,” Giran mused to itself. “It seems we truly were meant to be together.” Hot breath fanned across the back of Tobio’s neck as it opened its sharp jaw, ready to tear Tobio’s life apart like it’d done to Hiroki. Tobio’s eyes welled up with tears. He tried desperately to free himself, primal instinctive fear taking over his body, but he couldn’t move one inch in the demon’s unforgiving hold.

There was an enormous creak as the doors to the courtyard were thrown open. Tobio’s heart leapt into his throat and he looked up in desperation, horror overtaking him at the last face he wanted to see.

Oikawa-san’s brown eyes were blown wide open in shock and his mouth opened to scream in rage, but Tobio didn’t get to hear what he was saying before Giran’s sharp demonic teeth descended upon the back of his neck, and pain was all he knew.