Chapter Text
The train platform was windy. Kyojuro carefully balanced his stacks of bento boxes as he boarded, each step deliberate and sure to avoid it toppling over and wasting so much food. His ticket was secured in his pocket and his sword hung at his side, and if his arms weren’t full of bento boxes, he could whip it out in less than a second.
The Mugen Train was long and sleek, its metal gleaming in the crimson sunlight. Kyojuro didn’t know if he truly appreciated it as so many others did, he wasn’t sure it was a marvel. So many innocent lives had been lost within its walls that its potential to impress was long gone. Instead, Kyojuro scrutinized the train, wondering how a work of machinery could be turned so demonic and deadly. There was some sinister presence wafting along the tracks, one that belonged neither to the train nor to any demon. It was puzzling.
As Kyojuro found his seat, he scanned the faces of the passengers aboard. None of them seemed inherently suspicious, mothers and children, grandparents, businessmen, couples. They were simply a crowd in transit, no more. But a Demon Slayer knew that the most dangerous creatures often disguised themselves as innocent, weak, and friendly. This was not something Kyojuro could forget.
Three days ago, he’d received new orders: return to Headquarters for a briefing. He’d given an account of his recent encounters (excluding any mention of a certain demon) and been sent on his way with a new mission — prevent the Mugen Train from devouring any more innocents. He’d briefly investigated the station and had in fact come across a single demon, but it was weak and not very noteworthy, certainly not the one causing so much trouble in Nagoya. After dealing with it and protecting some innocents, Kyojuro had continued his mission, and that led him here.
The seat of the train was not overly comfortable, but it was certainly not the least comfortable place he’d rested before. Carefully, he set his bento boxes down in front of him and opened one up, taking the disposable wooden chopsticks in one hand. Pondering the ultimate end of this mission, Kyojuro began to devour the food in front of him. The train began to move, and still he sensed nothing.
“Master Rengoku!” A familiar voice called from behind him, and the Hashira turned his head to the side. There stood Kamado Tanjiro, his green checkered haori wrinkled by the straps of the box that carried his demon sister. Alongside him were the boar boy and the slightly wimpy boy, looking enraged or excited (he truly couldn’t tell).
“Tanjiro!” Kyojuro exclaimed, setting down his chopsticks and rising to his feet to greet the boy. “It has been far too long! What brings you here?”
Tanjiro smiled. “We were sent to help you on this mission,” he said. “Something about how this train made a lot of people go missing? The Master thought you could use some backup.”
“Well, I do appreciate it!” The Flame Hashira said. “Although I do not appreciate children being sent into such a dangerous place when there are plenty of Corps members who are adults!”
Tanjiro’s face reddened. “We can handle ourselves, Master Rengoku,” he said. “Respectfully, we’ve survived an encounter with one of the Twelve Kizuki.”
“I mean no disrespect,” Kyojuro said kindly, patting Tanjiro’s shoulder. “I only wish your lives were not put in danger.”
“I understand,” Tanjiro said. The two of them took a seat, and Kyojuro offered the three boys a bento box each. They thanked him in unison, then the three of them ate. The boys seemed shocked by his loud proclamations of enjoyment, but they smiled fondly.
“How have you been, Master Rengoku?” Tanjiro asked, setting his emptied bento box to the side.
“Please, call me Kyojuro!” the Flame Hashira said, smiling. “I have been well! There have not been many missions lately that have taxed me.”
“That’s great!” Tanjiro exclaimed cheerily.
“How have you fared?” Kyojuro questioned, smiling at the younger Slayer.
“I’ve been doing well. I’ve been working hard during my rehabilitation training and I’m very glad to be back on the field.” Tanjiro patted the top of his sister’s box. “Nezuko and I have even been working on some moves that we can do together, although I really do wish she’d try harder to stay out of the fighting.”
Kyojuro’s eyebrows shot up. “Your sister truly does fight with you?”
“Yes!” Tanjiro said. “And not just to protect me, but also to protect innocent people that are in danger!”
Kyojuro nodded, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Would Akaza ever act in such a manner? He’d helped take down other demons before, but that was not because he wished to save others. It was only because he wanted Kyojuro’s attention sooner.
“You’re thinking about Upper Moon Three, aren’t you?” Tanjiro asked, lowering his voice.
“In fact, I am!” Kyojuro said. “I fear he is too selfish to ever be like your sister.”
It was Tanjiro’s turn to pat his shoulder. “Don’t give up, Master Rengoku!” he said. “Upper Moon Three has been violent for a very long time. You can’t expect him to immediately change his behavior. It’ll take work and dedication!”
“You are wise beyond your years!” Kyojuro smiled. He leaned towards Tanjiro, voice lowered. “As it happens, there has been a positive change.”
“Oh?” Tanjiro asked, eyes wide.
“Upper Moon Three will not kill and eat anyone ever again,” the Flame Hashira said proudly. “We came to an agreement!”
Tanjiro furrowed his brow. “Won’t he starve?”
Kyojuro flushed. “Well,” he began. “No, he won’t.”
Tanjiro’s face paled, and his expression changed to one of dread. “You aren’t . . . killing people for him, are you?” he asked in a small voice.
Kyojuro’s eyes flared wide, astonished. “Of course not!” he exclaimed, drawing the eyes of several passengers. The two of them waited for the attention to disperse before continuing. “No, it isn’t that. Akaza drinks my blood instead of killing humans.”
Tanjiro bit his lip, eyebrows crossed. “Well,” he said, “I guess that’s a definite improvement, but is it safe?”
“Quite,” Kyojuro said. “Akaza would never hurt me. Well. Unless we are fighting.”
Tanjiro nodded slowly. “If you think it’s an improvement, then I believe you. I haven’t ever met him, so I can’t be a judge of his behavior. I know that you know what you’re doing, so it’ll be all right.”
“I appreciate the confidence!” Kyojuro says with a laugh.
————————————
The train crashes. His mind still foggy from the effects of the invasive Blood Demon Art, Kyojuro kneels beside Tanjiro and instructs him to breathe. The boy had been stabbed by one of the train employees, but with the proper technique, the bleeding might be slowed.
“I’m sorry, Master Rengoku,” Tanjiro gasped, clutching at his stomach and wincing. “I didn’t expect an attack from that man and I wasn’t able to react in time.”
“You have not disappointed me in the slightest!” Kyojuro assured him. “Do not apologize. Not a single person has died tonight, and that is thanks to your efforts! If anything, you should be proud!”
Tanjiro glanced over at the mangled steel body of the train, likely listening for the passengers slowly picking themselves out of the wreckage out of sight. “It’s hard to be proud when this looks so disastrous.”
“I know that I am certainly very proud,” Kyojuro said. “For the second time, you have survived an encounter with a Twelve Kizuki. That is no easy feat!”
Tanjiro smiled, and Kyojuro couldn’t help smiling back.
Then the hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle, and a cold sweat broke out beneath his collar. Kyojuro turned and drew his katana just in time to parry a potentially fatal blow. The attacker flipped backwards and landed in a crouch, lifting its head with a toothed grin.
“Flawless,” it breathed, and Kyojuro relaxed his sword arm, although he didn’t sheathe the weapon quite yet. He pursed his lips, slowly standing and worrying over what to say, what to do.
“Akaza,” he said tensely, remembering that Tanjiro was already well informed of the situation between he and Upper Three.
“Kyojuro,” Akaza purred, striding forward and stopping three yards away from the Hashira. He looked down his nose at Tanjiro in disgust. “Don’t tell me you were protecting this weakling.”
“This boy is not weak!” Kyojuro insisted. “He is the reason that there were no fatalities tonight.”
“Well,” Akaza said, eyeing Kyojuro’s blood-colored sword. “The night isn’t over yet.”
Tanjiro tensed and made to stand, but Kyojuro shook his head.
“No,” the Hashira said. “I don’t want you to reopen your wound.” Louder, he faced Akaza. “Is that a threat?”
“Not necessarily,” Akaza said. He wrinkled his nose and stared right at Tanjiro. “What happened to you?”
Tanjiro seemed startled, but he narrowed his brows. “I was stabbed!” He admitted boldly.
“Pathetic,” Akaza snorted. “You wouldn’t have even been able to protect yourself from me. I would’ve killed you if Kyojuro wasn’t here.”
Kyojuro’s eye twitched. “That is why he is under my teaching now!” He frowned. “Do you wish to be a problem tonight, Akaza?”
“Oh, nothing like that,” the demon said. “You know I would never get in your way, Kyojuro. I was simply in the area.” He blinked his long, pink eyelashes at the Hashira, and Kyojuro felt his face get hot.
“Since I know you could not have been hunting humans, I take it you were here in case the train demon failed, no?” Kyojuro took a defensive stance.
“That’s right,” Akaza said. “My Master really wants that boy right there dead.”
“How unfortunate then, that the demon failed to kill him!” Kyojuro said. “Although if that is what you are here to accomplish, I must say that I will not allow it!”
Akaza’s expression darkened, something like disappointment crossing his features. “I thought you might say something like that,” he said with a sigh. “My Master will be displeased.”
Kyojuro took a step back, startled. “You mean to disobey him?”
Akaza immediately looked afraid, or nervous. It wasn’t a look Kyojuro was used to seeing on him. “Of course not!” he said quickly. “I’ll just have to be more creative with this!”
Kyojuro narrowed his eyes. “I will not let you kill young Kamado.”
“You’ll die if you try to stop me,” Akaza said.
“So be it,” Kyojuro said, although he still was not sure if the demon actually meant to fight him or not. The two of them had had standoffs like this before. This did not guarantee that their arrangement was over. It might simply be a roadblock. But however much Kyojuro tolerated Akaza, he would not let him kill others, especially not a person the Hashira was sworn to protect.
Akaza took a fighting stance. Kyojuro could see the energy building up in the demon’s tense muscles, he could see the intent to fight in the demon’s golden eyes. He widened his own stance, his blood-red sword rising up in a defensive position. The Hashira held his eyes wide open, and in the fraction of a second it took for him to blink, Akaza had leapt forward.
Kyojuro was fast enough to parry the demon’s devastating fists, fast enough to redirect the force behind Akaza’s punches away from himself and Tanjiro. The edge of his sword busted Akaza’s ink-stained knuckles, sending blood running along its length. The demon laughed gleefully, sidestepping Kyojuro and aiming a harsh kick at his knees.
Akaza was a blur, and Kyojuro could scarcely keep up with his blows. His eyes caught the glint of tiny pieces of metal fraying away from his sword, the edge becoming chipped against the Kizuki’s force. How could something as soft and pliable as skin be so damaging? Kyojuro swirled his blade in a flaming arc, severing the fists that swing for his head. Akaza’s disconnected hands flew away into the darkness and were replaced with a sound like tearing flesh.
“Your fighting is so beautiful, Kyojuro,” Akaza purred, leaning too close to his face. Kyojuro had his sword buried in the demon’s wrists, effectively holding him back. Akaza stared at him through half-lidded eyes, his pink eyelashes fluttering. Kyojuro’s face heated up and he kicked Akaza in the chest, freeing the demon from his sword and sending him a few feet backwards.
“Your compliments mean nothing when your goal is to kill a child!” Kyojuro shouted, taking in a deep, steadying breath. “I cannot appreciate them!”
“That’s a shame,” Akaza said, doing a flip and landing perfectly on his feet. “Because regardless of our situation, I can always find a way to appreciate you.”
The Hashira sputtered, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. “This is not the time nor place for your foolery!” He surged forward, aiming for Akaza’s neck. Maybe a brush with mortality would knock some sense back into the demon — Kyojuro had thought that they had some sort of truce. Perhaps the Demon Lord’s orders transcended any form of personal motive? He couldn’t be certain.
Akaza caught his blade with little effort, seemingly ignoring the cuts that were immediately present on his hands. He attempted to yank it from Kyojuro’s grip, but the Hashira refused to let go and the two crashed into one another, sprawling on the dirt. Hastily, they both scrambled apart, although Akaza was predictably the first one on his feet.
“You’re playing dirty!” Kyojuro seethed, repositioning himself so that he stood between Akaza and the train. Out of the corner of his eye, a green-checkered haori flashed beyond his defensive range. He remained silent, unwilling to reveal Tanjiro to the demon who wished to kill him.
Akaza grinned. “You were aiming to kill me! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say —!” The demon suddenly stumbled, then twisted to gaze at something embedded in the back of his calf. It was a short projectile dagger with a glass collection chamber inside, and the two watched in confusion as it filled with Akaza’s blood.
The demon jerked it from his flesh and tossed it aside. “What was the meaning of that?” he hissed. A beat passed, and the hostility faded from his eyes, replaced with a look of awe. “I didn’t even see you throw it.”
Kyojuro shook his head. “I did not!” he attested, equally confused.
The small contraption was collected by Tanjiro, hobbling onto the clearing while clutching his stomach. “It was me!” the young Slayer said bravely, tensing as Akaza stepped towards him.
“What did you do it for?” Akaza wondered aloud. “It contained no poison, and the wound it inflicted is already gone. What were you hoping to accomplish with such a pathetic weapon?” He sneered.
Tanjiro stood up straight, tucking the blade into his belt. “It’s a blood sample!” he answered, and Kyojuro’s eyes widened. He remembered now.
“For what?” Akaza asked, tilting his head to the side.
“To make a cure for my sister!” Tanjiro exclaimed. “She’s been turned into a demon!”
“Oh,” Akaza said, sounding disappointed. “I remember you telling me about this,” he added, turning to Kyojuro. “Well played. I told you that you’d have to catch me off guard.”
Kyojuro stood still, realizing that Akaza stood between Tanjiro and he, and that he could not hope to protect the boy if the demon chose to attack now. “In truth, I had forgotten!” the Hashira said, stepping slightly closer to the Kizuki.
Akaza laughed, then turned fully away from Tanjiro, his eyes zeroed in on Kyojuro. The Hashira noted with dismay that every cut and bruise he’d left on the demon was gone. Still, he dug his feet into the ground and rushed Akaza, sword alight with fire that burned only to purge the world of evil.
The demon sidestepped it and one of his fists connected with Kyojuro’s skull, sending him stumbling a few steps backwards. He felt hot blood trickle down the side of his head, but it did not deter him. As if the blow had not happened, Kyojuro continued his advance, eyes narrowed into slits that followed Akaza’s every move.
“Master Rengoku!” Tanjiro exclaimed, unsheathing his own katana and glancing between the two of them.
“Stay out of the way,” Akaza hissed at him, and Kyojuro was glad for the demon’s attentiveness. Tanjiro would no doubt be pulverized in a fight between the two of them. At the very least, Kyojuro would have to reduce the swing of his blows to accommodate for his presence, and Akaza would not appreciate him appearing to be “weaker”.
Tanjiro’s face paled, but he seemed to have come to the same realization that Kyojuro had — he would be in the way in this fight.
A slice on Akaza’s neck, a punch to Kyojuro’s ribcage, a severed arm here and there. The fight carried on until they were both bloody, although Kyojuro remained the only one who was injured. He gasped for breath, glaring at the demon across from him as he effortlessly regenerated all damage that had been done.
“Not bad,” Akaza said, leaning close again. Kyojuro swiped his blade and lodged it in the demon’s throat, but no matter how much effort he put into the blow, the cut did not widen and Akaza’s head remained attached to his body. The demon shook his head and kicked Kyojuro squarely in the chest, sending him sprawling. Akaza kicked his sword from his grasp and stood over him menacingly.
Is this the end? Kyojuro wondered, staring up at the Kizuki. The moon outlined Akaza’s hair like a silver halo, and in the demon’s eyes, Kyojuro saw himself reflected.
Before Akaza could step any closer, Tanjiro and Inosuke ran forward. Kyojuro didn’t know at which point the boar-headed boy had shown up, but the valiant disregard for the boys’ own safety both warmed his heart and sent a cold shiver of dread down his spine.
Their swords flashing, the two junior Demon Slayers attacked Akaza, yelling and screaming with each blow. Even with both of their concentrated efforts, no blood was drawn. Akaza stared at them with a blank expression on his face.
“Get away from Master Rengoku!” Tanjiro shouted, his eyes hard and determined. “Don’t you have enough honor in your body that you’d wait until he’s on his feet? How dare you? You coward!”
Akaza took Tanjiro’s black nichirin sword from his grasp and tossed it across the clearing, eyes squinted in disgust. “Me, a coward?” he snarled.
“Stop!” Kyojuro shouted, getting to his feet and retrieving his katana. “Akaza, please!”
The demon held Inosuke by the head at arm’s length, keeping the boy from landing a single hit on him. His attention turned at once to Kyojuro when he spoke.
“These boys are my apprentices!” Kyojuro said, frowning. “I would appreciate if you did not put them out of commission before they can reach their full potential.”
Akaza looked the boys up and down distastefully. “My Master wants that one dead,” he said, pointing an inked finger at Tanjiro.
“That may be, but can’t you spare him for now? His survival is crucial to me. If you kill him, I will no longer associate with you and any hope of convincing me to become a demon will be lost.” Kyojuro fought to keep his face stern, hoping that his bargain seemed fair enough to entice Akaza. The demon could be so particular.
“You should have started with that,” Akaza said. “But that doesn’t fix the biggest issue here. I’m supposed to kill the Kamado brat.”
“Can’t you delay it?” Kyojuro asked pleadingly. He did not wish to grovel, but there was little choice left. “Imagine what your master could do with a former Hashira as a demon! So much information could be shared. If you see so much potential in me, surely your master would see the same?”
“Hmm,” Akaza said. “You don’t know him the way I do.” The demon grit his teeth, staring at the ground. Finally, he met Kyojuro’s eyes again, nodding. “Fine,” he said.
“Thank you, Akaza,” Kyojuro said, sheathing his sword. The two junior Slayers seemed confused, but they followed his example and put away their weapons.
“Don’t get it wrong,” Akaza growled, glaring at Tanjiro and Inosuke. “This is only because Kyojuro asked me. If I ever see one of you try to get in the way of us again, I’ll tear you apart!”
They did not seem intimidated in the slightest. Kyojuro smiled fondly.
The demon glanced at the sky. “I have to leave,” he said, likely due to the impending sunrise. He eyed Kyojuro. “You should heal up. I think I might’ve broken a rib or two, and I want you to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
“I will be fine!” Kyojuro affirmed, smiling still.
Akaza shook his head, mirroring the look. His fangs gleamed in the moonlight, and Kyojuro found himself thanking the gods that he’d survived yet another encounter with the Kizuki.
“I’ll see you around,” Akaza said, and he vanished into the night.
The three Demon Slayers watched him go. Kyojuro turned to Tanjiro with a smile.
“Isn’t he wonderful?” the Hashira asked.
Tanjiro grimaced.