My Instincts Never Lie || Demon Slayer Nezuko

13. You Deserve It

"Just die already you filthy insect!" Kyogai growled as the papers fluttered to the floor, and saw that she was still intact.

Nezuko huffed, tip-toeing between the papers where the floor peaked out, landing rather wobbly at the corners of the room with her legs shaking terribly. 'Dammit, this is bad. I can't handle the pain any longer.' Sweat trickled down her skin. She didn't know whether it was the dizziness of being tumbled around like a ragdoll or landing badly on good footing---either way, until then she'd been surviving on instinct and a dash of good luck.

"This's an incredible a blood demon art, Kyogai!" she yelled. He held her gaze for a blink or two, sneering at the glint in her eyes.

Kyogai then roared. The drum beats thrummed with a bang, and waves and waves of giant claw marks tore up the surfaces beneath her feet. The room rolled like a dice in backgammon. Half the hanging lamps, the mountain's worth of paper, the contents of the cabinets swirled around like a lost swarm of bees, until Nezuko felt like she could puke. Nothing in her vision made sense.

'Aghk, I can't focus! It's too... There has to be some way to start my approach like this...' A claw striked. 'There's a slight rotten hue that aligns to a drum beat---then that should be my basis. Quick breaths, Nezuko, quick breaths.

She launched herself into the rotation of the room. Just keeping pace with the change of direction was a struggle. Maintaining enough momentum to keep her short intakes of air took several tries, stumbled over ledges and evaded the furniture with quick hops and splashes. Gradually her movements took shape. They traced the walls and floors, the roof and even chunks of wooden finishing that floated around, fighting to keep herself on stable ground.

'Ninth Form: Splashing Turbulent!'

Kyogai stumbled back, his hands remained stagnant over the drums as the rolling slowed. Simply staring as she came closer and closer.

'There!' she thought, the opening clear as daylight. The room halted, and amidst her freefall, she pushed off the ceiling and dashed straight for him.

With a fwoosh, the battle was over. Her blade cut through and blood spewed from where his head should've been. Kyogai's vision saw the world upside down, landing on the floor with a thud.

Nezuko landed square on her legs, a sharp bolt of pain shooting up her spine. "Ack! I shouldn't have taken a deep breath--" she wheezed, finding relief on the floor. Nezuko nearly went limp. The quick splashes of the ninth form were still ringing in her ears.

"Hey brat," Kyogai heaved. Catching her breath, she turned with her head hung. The demon had a glazed look over his face, facing the now tattered ceiling, pale and deflated. "Answer me, is my art... truly good?"

Nezuko straightened. She took to one knee beside the decapitated head, leaning on the support of her sheathed blade. Heavy pants turned into quiet yelps; they sat quietly and Nezuko nodded. For all his unforgivable crimes he was at least owed that much. With every spell-casting demon she encountered, she was repeatedly reminded how much of the world she didn't know. "You're technique, it's amazing," Nezuko muttered and the last bits of Kyogai's face were wasted away into the cracks of the mansion.

His presence had shifted dramatically the moment death became apparent, it filled the room with a yearning and lingered without an ounce of anger left. He gave up at the last second. She pitied him---all he ever was was drab and grey, looking at the piles of his work scattered across the floor. Some had blood soaked into the tips, others were ripped, and there they would lay for years and years to come. It made bringing out the syringe Lady Tamayo had given her, awkward. It felt off to use someone's fading remains for the medicine, but she remembered Lady Tamayo's words. There were battles a great deal more gruelling than this ahead of her, and if her resolve shouldn't waver then, why must it now?