"If you can bring Gyutaro back home, perhaps, just perhaps, I might find it in me to forgive you."
That was easier said than done - what greeted Kyoko when she finally smelt the familiar autumn decay was a mountain of bodies; and sitting above was her target.
"Gyutaro."
"Look who came crawling back," Gyutaro sneered, his tone laced with bitterness.
"Crawling? Please, I was merely taking a detour," Kyoko shot back, her voice holding a mixture of defiance and frustration.
Gyutaro's eyes narrowed, his fists clenched at his sides. "You left without a word, without any explanation. Do you know what it was like for us?"
Kyoko's jaw tightened, a storm of emotions swirling in her eyes. "I had my reasons, Gyutaro. It wasn't easy for me either."
"Reasons? Don't forget who taught me how to read people, Kyoko..... It was you," Gyutaro's voice echoed, the sharpness of his words underscoring the pain he felt.
Kyoko's eyes met murky pale blues, and for a moment, the air crackled with the unspoken acknowledgment of their shared history. The teachings she imparted on Gyutaro now stood as a testament to the bond they once shared, a bond that had been fractured by her sudden departure.
As the silence settled, Kyoko's shoulders slumped, and she took a deep breath, the weight of her choices pressing on her. "I know, Gyutaro. I know."
"You know nothing. If you pretend to be dead, you should stay dead."
The alleyway seemed to shrink as the tension escalated, Kyoko struggled to find the right words, grappling with the consequences of her decisions.
"I never meant to hurt you," Kyoko whispered, her voice laden with regret. "But I understand if you can't forgive me. I just... I was selfish, but I-"
"Shut up." Gyutaro's gaze remained fixed on her, behind them was only coldness. Like a puppet. "Shut up, and leave. Leave before you can hurt Ume and I even more."
Kyoko's eyes faltered as Gyutaro's words reverberated in the desolate alley. Despite the painful history between them, she needed Gyutaro's assistance to navigate the complexities of Muzan's potential connection to the blue spider lily. "Gyutaro, please. I need your help. There's something far more significant at play here, something that concerns all of us."
Gyutaro's gaze remained unyielding, but Kyoko saw a flicker of uncertainty before they harden once again. "Leave, before I make you."
".....Ume said you haven't been back home since last month-" Kyoko's heart skipped a beat as a gun, once a whimsical gift, now rested in Gyutaro's hands. The metal cold against her skin mirrored the chill that settled between them.
"I don't need your sympathy, Kyoko. And I certainly don't need your concern," Gyutaro's voice was sharp, each word a carefully measured blade.
Kyoko swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to steady herself. "Gyutaro, it's not about sympathy. There's a threat looming over the district, one that we can't ignore. I came back because I need your help."
He scoffed, the corners of his mouth twisting into a bitter sneer. "You think you can just waltz back in and ask for help? After abandoning us?"
Kyoko's gaze remained steady, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of regret and determination. "I know I messed up, Gyutaro. I can't change the past, but I can try to make things right now. The enemy we face is powerful, and I can't face it alone."
He tightened his grip on the gun, the metal creaking in protest. "I've moved on, Kyoko. Ume and I have built something without you. We don't need you."
A pang of pain shot through Kyoko's chest, but she held her ground. "This is bigger than us, Gyutaro. I'm not asking you to forgive me or take me back. I'm asking for your help, for the sake of everyone in the district."
Gyutaro's gaze wavered, the conflict evident in his eyes. After a tense silence, he sighed, releasing the grip on the toy gun.
"Leave, Kyoko. I don't want anything to do with you."
"Then don't do anything with me. You just have to do something for Lady Kyo."
Gyutaro's eyes flickered, torn between resentment and the undeniable truth in Kyoko's words. The air hung heavy with unresolved tension, and the weight of their shared history pressed on them.
"I won't force you," Kyoko continued, her voice softer. "But deep down, you know what's at stake. I'll do what I can to protect the district, with or without your help."
Without waiting for a response, Kyoko turned away, leaving the alley and the echoes of their fractured connection behind. The night swallowed her, and she ventured into the shadows alone, burdened not just by the threat ahead but also by the painful rift between her and the one person she had hoped would stand by her side.
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Kokushibo likes to think he's better than Yoriichi in everyway.
In his mind, he had transcended the limitations of humanity, achieving unparalleled power and immortality. The centuries of existence had allowed him to witness the passage of time and indulge in experiences beyond the scope of mortal life.
Yet, beneath the veneer of confidence, an underlying emptiness lingered—a void that no amount of power or longevity could truly fill. At the top, he no longer has enemies that can beat him.
The insatiable hunger for strength had fractured their once-unbreakable brotherhood. The very pursuit that Kokushibo believed would secure his superiority became the catalyst for their separation. He could surpass Yoriichi in strength, but the intrinsic value of their bond was irreparably damaged, just like the flute he hid in his sachet.
He has beaten Yoriichi, but only in terms of power.
Kokushibo doesn't remember how to love. No, more specifically -
He never knew how.
"You know," a young pinkette once poked at his cheek, "you kind of remind me of the Tennin* from the western culture."
Kokushibo's stoic expression shifted. His eyes, devoid of the warmth associated with genuine emotions, betrayed a hint of confusion.
"Tennin, you say?" he responded, his voice carrying an otherworldly grace. "I am no heavenly being, nor do I concern myself with the affairs of the West. My pursuits lie in the realm of strength and dominance."
The pinkette giggled, undeterred by Kokushibo's austere demeanor. "But Tennin are said to be beings of great beauty and power, much like you. Plus, they have eyes that survey everything around them, like how you're always on guard. Yet, they are often depicted as compassionate and capable of love."
Kokushibo's brows furrowed imperceptibly. Love – a concept that eluded him like a distant memory he could never quite grasp. His mind, honed for centuries in the pursuit of martial prowess, struggled to comprehend the nuances of such a seemingly simple emotion.
"Love?" he mused, as if testing the unfamiliar word on his tongue. "Love is but a trivial sentiment, a weakness that binds one to fleeting attachments."
The pinkette's gaze softened with sympathy. "It's not a weakness, you know. It's what makes us human. Even Tennin, in their divine grace, understand the beauty of love. Maybe that's what you lack, despite your strength. You should go home, see your family-"
"Yoriichi sent you to persuade me, didn't he?"
"...Was that too obvious?" The pinkett awkwardly scratched her cheek. "I agree with him. You shouldn't have left your family that loved you. If you go home now, it's still salvageable!"
Would things have turned out differently if he had listened to Yoriichi?
".....Sensei."
"You've performed admirably, Shinsai. You are free to proceed with your responsibilities as Upper Moon 5."
"Thank you, Sensei." The once stone Hashira bowed before departing from the training grounds.
Were it not for the impressive progress and the presence of a mark on the pillar, Kokushibo might have deemed him worthy of death for his rebellious thoughts. The decision to spare his sole student and sparring partner hinged on one specific reason.
He wanted to surpass Yoriichi's legacy.
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Author:
This chapter is just last chapter on crack. Looks like Gyutaro isn't the "HEY OLD WOMAN" boy anymore. I'm getting busy with work stuff so the chapters will be shorter than it usually is. Sorry for the inconvenience!
Tennin - angels/ heaven's messengers.