Of Crescent Scars and Healing Wounds

1 | Tall Child

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"Leave me alone!" the demon shrieked, slashing his claws, unleashing gashes that were swiftly swerved by the Hashira. The attacks hit the trees surrounding them, its long-range striking trees of great distances.

Obanai spun his head back and his eyes widened at the sight. The trees that once stood tall and age-ridden, their wiseness illustrated on the crests of their bark, now shrunk to mere seedlings. They were de-aged.

It all happened so fast.

Fuck.

The demon's chest heaved, fear written on its eyes. "That—That's your...your final warning! Just leave me alone, you!" Its grip on the child hostage tightened like an anaconda crushing its prey. The child cried out, tears staining her cheeks. He stroked his claws again, red slashes wildly staining both Hashira's visions.

Sanemi dodged yet another one of its attacks, his teeth gritting in frustration. His head turned to see the tree behind him, the one hit by the demon's attack, rotting and withering, its wood decaying.

That didn't deter him from his goal to slaughter the demon, save the hostage, laugh in victory and have a nice bath at a nearby Wisteria House. He charged at full speed, his sword glistening under the moonlight. He looked over his shoulder to see Obanai catching up to him, their eyes met, and an unheard conversation sang in their minds at the same time.

"Iguro! You attack it from the ground, I'll attack it from up! Got that?!" Sanemi screamed, his eyes fixated on Obanai's firm nod.

The child's safety was their top priority.

Sanemi thrust himself up a tree, his legs locked in place and he leaped high into the air, his figure obstructing the gentle shine of the bright moon. The demon's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in utter horror. He was getting desperate.

"Blood Demon Art: Age Manipulation!" he screeched, unleashing a singular enormous slash, aiming straight at the Hashira. Sanemi could only see the red of the claws coming for him, could see the demon's terrified eyes turn relieved as if the battle was already over. Sanemi could see what the demon couldn't.

Obanai was conjuring an attack already.

Sanemi grinned, drawing in a breath. "Wind Breathing, Third Form; Clean Storm Wind Tree!" he released a whirlwind of slashes around himself, slicing the demon's attack and ultimately defecting the entirety of it.

"Serpent Breathing, Second Form; Venom Fangs of the Narrow Head!" Obanai seethed at the same time, his sword mere inches away from the demon's neck.

So close. They were so close to killing it.

"Blood Demon Art: Age Manipulation!"

The sound of Obanai's sword clanging on the ground filled Sanemi's ears.

What?

Sanemi couldn't see Obanai's form anymore, couldn't see the illusion of serpents encircling the demon. He gritted his teeth, "Eighth form; Primary Gale Slash!"

The demon emitted an excruciating wail as the gusts of wind shredded through his flesh and muscle, his body spasming in pain. His grip on the child hostage lessened as his body fell apart, piece by piece. Following suit, he disintegrated, a foul stench of ash and sin breezed the Hashira's nose.

The first thing Sanemi saw was the captured child. He crouched down, his scarred arms lifting her head and body into a sitting position against a tree.

Unconscious and still, she was unbearably pale, sweat beading her forehead, but her chest was gently heaving up and down. Sanemi released a breath he didn't know he was holding. She'd be easy to carry back to her village, he thought.