6. Koketsu Arrows

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3 pairs of arms lay on the ground. Nezuko glared at Susamaru and her nonchalant, momentary expression of shock that shifted into an arrogant, malicious grin.

"Don't ever say those things to my brother again."

"Your traitor brother can go fuck himself."

As quickly as they faded to ash, her arms grew back. She didn't bother to brush off the dirt, in fact it seemed Susamaru rather enjoyed the way her ragged kimono stuck to filth like a badge of honour. "Harvest our blood, huh? Ha! I dunno what you're trynna do, but I won't allow you to enrage our lord."

'I don't care. Kibutsuji can be mad if he wants. I. Don't. Care.' The words had a sickly sour taste in her head but nonetheless were as digestible as candy. She could speak all the ill of Muzan and watch his pathetic self burn in hell with conflicting satisfaction.

"If you really think you can harvest my blood—one of the Twelve Kizuki—then come at me, coward!"

"Keep your eyes open! I'll aid your brother," Yushiro yelled from the gigantic hole in the side of the house. "Don't let your guard down. If they're really part of the Kizuki, this fight won't go easy on you."

"Got it," Nezuko replied. "I'll try my very best. I won't lose to her."

Susamaru only howled in laughter, and her temari appeared without a problem. Her regeneration was fast. Freakishly more than Tanjiro's—and if that arrow demon was any like Susamaru, then she couldn't simply rest upon taking her head.

--

Tanjiro and Yushiro circled around Yahaba. They bore their fangs at each other and kept low on their feet. "Tch, what a fucking disgrace," Yahaba growled, reeling at his opponents. There were better, more amiable sacrifices to offer his lord, in Yahaba's superior opinion.

He hadn't been this agitated in decades—what a mess he must've been. Susamaru was one reckless thing, but that bitch, who had cut him in half... A splatter of blood, that bled inch by inch and tainted his brilliant garb! How dare she! It didn't matter that these two slanderers of Kibutsuji's noble name outnumbered him, he would take them on expertly—and with gallant ease for that matter.

Tanjiro claws beelined for Yahaba's hands. But in the blink of an eye he was swept off his feet before he could get any closer. A painful stench dragged him to a tree like a bird to a window. He shouldn't have bruised but he did.

"That's what you get when you mess with the Kizuki!" He beamed and outstretched his arms for a field day of pleasantries. Slammed from the brick barrier, to the earth, too far for the dust to shower on Yahaba.

Tanjiro could hear his body tearing and sewing itself back together, stitch by stitch. At one point Tanjiro zipped between the low clouds. Rapidly rising higher and higher until the arrow just... dissipated.

"Aghk! Who was that," Yahaba yelled, losing the balance in his sandals.

"How dare you hurt Lady Tamayo," Yushiro said. A nasty snarl was plastered on his face as a slight mist gave way to him.

Yahaba blinked his palms of the dust. "Tamayo...?" He murmured under his breath. "Hey Susamaru! Isn't that the fugitive? We have ourselves a great souvenir!" All fighting paused, eyes shooting to Tamayo. Yahaba smiled, his gifted blood simmering at the sight of her familiar dainty, conniving face.

"Is that right?" Susamaru grinned. "4 heads to take back to our lord? Oh this is getting fun! This is getting fun!" She taunted and her handball hit Nezuko square in the face.

"No. Two heads is enough," Yahaba replied, scanning the battleground with his palms. "The girl and the fugitive. We don't need the other 2."

Yushiro disappeared once again. Tanjiro was slammed to the ground with a loud bang. "You! Heads up!" Yushiro yelled, flinging his seal and pin. Tanjiro disappeared in the blink of an eye and went in for an attack after him. Together they could corner him in a flurry of hits and their enemy would never see them coming.

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