The One We Couldn't Save

.+* Chapter 8 ~ On Our Way *+.

PoV: Zenitsu

The stone tiles under the Thunder Hashira's sandals clancked softly with each step as he walked through a small town in the centre of a river valley.

Zenitsu didn't know the name of the small town, he was led here by a crow to meet up with the two other Hashiras he was to be working with in his mission.

He listened carefully to conversations that drifted to him as the townfolk walked by, and was able to get a rough idea if where his too fellow Hashiras were.

He came to a small street jam-packed with stall after stall, each one selling something different that the rest. It was bustling with people, and it partially reminded Zenitsu of the Entertainment District.

It was loud, very loud, and he felt the need to cover his sensitive ears, but refrained from doing so. He spotted the two red-headed Hashira easily amongst the crowd, and quickened his pace to meet them.

Haruto appeared to be conversating with a stall owner, and Yukko was leaning on his back, presumably asleep like usual. Zenitsu assumed the two were related, most likely brother and sister, since they both look so similar.

Whenever he came closer to Haruto, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. The sound he gave off was not pleasant. It sounded like a normal human from afar, but as he gets closer, he can hear deranged demon sounds from him.

He knows however, that Haruto is not a demon, he's stood under sunlight many times, and doesn't immediately regenerate. After all, there's no way a demon could possibly become a Hashira. Or a Demon Slayer for that matter.

Zenitsu did always feel as though the two dressed quite oddly. Haruto wore a black sakkat, with purple charms dangling from it, similar to wind chimes. The hat reminded him of Uzui's old headband.

Not to mention, he also wore a blindfold for whatever reason. Zenitsu wasn't close enough to ask him. And to top it all off, he fought with a spear instead of a sword.

Yukko in the other hand, not quite as odd. She wore a wooden fox mask, with a single face painted on with calligraphy ink, fastened around her head with aging bandages.

Her kimono, which she wore over her uniform, was far too big for her, and covered her hands. Zenitsu didn't understand how she could possibly hold a katana, nevermind fight like that.

But alas, he didn't just the two, it was their life after all, so they could each do whatever they pleased. He was in no position to tell them how to live their lives. He wasn't the boss of them, or anyone really for that matter. Even if the other Hashiras respected him.

"Greetings Haruto, Yukko, I believe we are working together for now." The tall blonde said as he approached the two. Haruto quickly turned to face him, abruptly waking up Yukko as he did so.

"Greetings Agatsuma-san." Haruto responded, giving a quick bow. "Just a moment if you please." Haruto turned back to the stall owner, who seemed to be refusing the money Haruto was offering him, even though he'd taken something.

"Goddammit please just take the money!" The red haired young man snapped at the stall owner, dropping a few gold coins onto the wooden till. "No, just take it please, it's the least my family and I can do for you."

Haruto sighed with defeat, and took back the money. "Thank you sir." He gave a the man a small bow. Unbeknownst to the stall owner, Haruto had managed to slip a few coins into a painted clay jar the man seemed to be selling.

"Apologies for that Agatauma-san, where are we going for our mission?" Haruto asked, turning to Zenitsu. "Where we believe Tanjirou Kamado's hideout is." He responded simply, his sparrow, Chuntaro, giving a chirp in response.

"Chuntaro here will lead the way, he knows the route from here." The Thunder Hashira held out a finger, which the bird hopped onto, before taking flight, chirping at the Slayers, urging them to follow him.

"Chu chu! Chu chu!" The bird squealed. The three followed him, Zenitsu being the fastest obviously took the lead, and Haruto being the slowest took the rear, occasionally swapping out with Yukko.

Zenitsu didn't really know why, but Yukko seemed to fall asleep no matter what she was doing, standing up, in a meeting, having a conversation... The list went on.

He guessed her sleeping pattern was messed up, or maybe she had some sort of insomnia. It wasn't hard to see the huge dark circles and bags under her eyes. He felt quite sorry for her actually, she seemed so tired all the time. Zenitsu couldn't imagine loving like that.

The three Hahsiras raced out of the small town, heading to the destination of their next mission, Mt. Sagiri. "This mission is a death wish then, huh?" Haruto asked, plucking the thoughts directly out of the blonde's brain.

"Yes, most likely it is." He replied quickly and quietly, listening as the crickets began their song with the sub setting on them, casting a warm amber glow across the grass.

The three could feel the pinch of frost in the air, and their breath came out in small clouds. Winter will be here soon. Zenitsu thought to himself, in a feeble attempt to slow the stampede of thoughts in his mind.

Zenitsu knew how dangerous this mission would be. Possibly even more dangerous than the last time he went to Mt. Sagiri. He'd been lucky that day, Tanjirou let him go.

Thinking back to that day, five years ago, always sparked a glimmer of hope in his chest. He was sure that kind, loving boy he once knew was still in there. His best friend.

His thoughts then drifted to Nezuko. He felt a pang in his chest. He missed her so much, and he hoped she was happy in the afterlife. When Tanjirou escaped from them on that day, she was still clinging to him.

Everyone was looking for her for weeks and weeks in end. But alas, no one found her. After a year of searching, she was announced to be dead. Gone. Forever.

Zenitsu missed her terribly, and was sure he'd never find another girl he'd love the same way he loved Nezuko. She was perfect. In every way possible.

But this led to another thought, to do with the Uppermoon him and the two red-heads were to be dealing with. He remembered distinctively the description he was given.

It was a female demon, and she wore some sort of cloak, presumably made from an old haori of sorts. It had a black and green checkered pattern. And she used flame related Blood Demon Art.

Pink flames to be exact. Nezuko's blood demon art was some sort of pink flames, but he knew she was dead. So there was no chance it could be her. Not a chance in Heaven or Hell.

Although the cloak the demon wore made him think. Was it made from Tanjirou's old haori? Zenitsu had kept it safe after the incident, half believing Tanjirou would come back, alive and well, and human.

However, around six years ago, it disappeared. The door to Zenitsu's estate had been knocked down, and the haori was missing. All he could render from that night was his frantic searching and the stinging sensation of hot, salty tears in his eyes and on his face.

Well, Zenitsu supposed he'd just have to see how it played out. He guessed the three of them would arrive at Mt. Sagiri in a few hours at most if they kept up the current pace they were going.

He just hoped, prayed even, that nothing would go terribly, horribly wrong.