Sorry the wait was long! This one is twice as long as usual since I couldn't find a good place to stop the chapter haha. Remember to vote and share your thoughts, I'd love to hear them!
(Due to popular demand I have decided on a Midoriya x Reader! I have an interesting plot premise in mind. I'll share a little preview with you as soon as I can!)
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You turned to your side and stepped back to avoid the vertical-running thread. The sound of it alone was intimidating enough, and you already knew a single one could fell a whole tree.
Taking one more look at Tanjiro's broken sword, you tossed it blindly behind you, hoping it'd land somewhere near him. It landed with a thunk into the barren soil before you heard him pick it up.
He needs it more than I do. Besides, cutting through the threads takes specific and difficult measures. We'll simply need to try something else.
An image of your mother and father practicing their breathing techniques surfaced in your mind. It was incredibly vivid, given that you'd pretty much memorized them to the smallest, most intricate detail. Your own fighting style mimicked the ones of those you admired, after all.
It could come to the point where your hand would be forced. Ideally, the Ninth or Tenth Forms would be enough, but there was no guarantee.
"Since you won't hand her to me, I'll just kill you both and take her."
Your eyes flicked over to Tanjiro's and met them with fierce conviction. Holding up his broken blade, he snarled, "We'll take your head off first."
At this, the demon chuckled. He brushed the large locks of white hair that framed and covered the left side of his face, so that it was now exposed.
In place of a pupil in his left eye was the character for 'five.'
"You can't beat me," he stated simply, and immediately, you realized why he had reason to be arrogant.
"As one of the Twelve Demon Moons, I cannot possibly lose to you."
He was confirmed to be one of them.
A powerful demon whose power came closer to Kibutsuji Muzan's than nearly all others.
In the back of your mind, you'd already known that truth. You just didn't want to admit it, for it meant that the father demon, with his incredible amount of physical prowess, was not even a Demon Moon himself.
It meant that Rui was and would be far superior to him in all aspects — it meant that you wouldn't stand much of a chance against Rui.
For thinking so negatively, you dug your nails into the palm of your hand.
Snap out of it. Even if it's a facade, show some strength. If you were okay with dying, you would've died a long time ago.
So despite the hesitation of your body, which was near paralyzed with injury and anguish, you stepped forward and extinguished any trace of fear from your expression.
You sucked in a full breath in between the gaps of your clenched teeth -- you could hear the air quickly enter your mouth.
For their sake.
Rui began to fiddle with his threads, prompting you to go in before he could launch another large-scale attack. Tanjiro ran right on your heel. But when you were five meters away, Rui stopped twisting the strings and instead tugged on them.
Full-Focused Breathing.
You scanned your surroundings, wary for any rustling leaves or reflected light that would betray the thread's presence. And the moment you thought you could take advantage of the opening,
Nezuko was yanked out from behind the tree, and into Rui's firm grasp.
The threads had been wound tightly around her wrists and neck, digging into them with a great amount of pressure. She growled from behind her bamboo muzzle and struggled to free herself, but all to no avail; Rui had her locked right in place as he pressed his forearm to her throat.
Your heart thumped in your ears.
Nezuko didn't deserve this.
"Guess you should've taken my offer, huh."
Tanjiro sped up and passed you, kicking up a violent gust of wind that carried your hair in front of your face.
"GIVE HER BACK!" the boy roared, an increasing sense of hatred and urgency imbued in his aura.
You were quick to follow up. Four meters away now. What was the best course of action? You didn't want to risk accidentally cutting Nezuko -- who, to your dismay, was at risk of being used as a shield if things came down to it.
Bones and muscles creaking at the sudden movement, you forced yourself down into a crouch. Your Nichirin Sword had begun its direct path towards the side of Rui's nearest ankle.
"How boring... How futile."
But thanks to Nezuko's disruptive movements, Rui's own were hindered and he could not dodge your steel.
Your blade crashed noisily against his ankle. It didn't spill a drop of blood.
No matter--!
With a grunt of effort, you heaved all of your weight onto your sword in order to push it further. His strong stance managed to last a second more before he stumbled off to the side in his attempt to not trip. From the corner of your eye you saw Tanjiro reach out for his sister, his blood-covered hand desperate to get her back.
Nezuko dragged her pointed claws across the demon's face.
Rui would not tolerate it. He simply released Nezuko, closed his fist,
and tugged.
"NO!"
It all happened so fast, you almost missed it; Rui had strung up Nezuko, upside-down, in a complex network of webs several meters above the ground. Her viscous blood dripped onto the cold, dry soil. A drop of it splattered onto Tanjiro's cheek.
In coming to that horrifying realization, his head tilted to the dark skies above. His sister had become a red-tinted silhouette against the moon.
His heart-wrenching cry for her
spurred you to action once more.
"Shut up," Rui demanded, watching your approach. "She's a demon; she won't die from something like this."
Your head instinctively moved back to dodge an incoming thread.
"I really have to teach her a lesson. I'll let her lose some blood for a little while, and if things don't play out smoothly, I'll keep this up until sunrise. And she'll... warm up a bit."
Your pulse quickened.
To think that this demon, with his sick games and pretend-family, was, at one point, just like you: a human.
Rui easily struck his foot out and kicked you away when you let your emotions get the better of you. The impact immediately made fresh bruises and sent you hurtling backwards, just barely missing several tree trunks.
You had gone for such a rash, straightforward attack, you'd have been more surprised if he hadn't repelled you.
You coughed blood, rising to your feet with an air of unease. With just a single kick he had created so much distance between the two of you.
Tanjiro shouted your name in concern and retreated several paces to check up on you.
At this rate, I'll only hinder him.
Undoubtedly, his hatred for the demon ran deep, yet he refused to let it take control of his technique. He clenched his wrist tightly, letting the pain from his own grip reign in his anger.
In this way, he was being an ideal warrior.
He took a deep breath, staggering his feet and making precise adjustments to his body position. Subconsciously, you held your breath, watching as he bent his knees, storing up energy in his powerful legs. A memory clicked deep within you —
one that revived the image of your late mother.
Rui simply looked on, the meager wounds on his face that Nezuko had inflicted already patching themselves up; he was confident in that Tanjiro's broken sword couldn't possibly do any harm. If you were in the demon's position, you'd have thought the same, with the odds stacked so clearly in your favor. In any matchup between a Demon Moon and a Rank Ten the outcome was obvious.
But...
Tanjiro was different.
No ordinary Rank Ten would've made it this far, in the first place. For despite all odds, despite the crushing fear and hopelessness that bore down on his shoulders,
He found it in himself to stand, breathe in deep,
And unleash the most precise, final Form.
Mother's favorite:
Dragon of Change.
Tanjiro kicked off, leaping towards Rui with a startling burst of speed. A torrent of water materialized and sloshed about his blade, twisting along with his flowing movements.
In retaliation the demon crossed both of his hands in front of his chest. The sound of his deadly wires returned once more, an abrupt warning of their approach.
With both hands, Tanjiro clutched the hilt of his Nichirin Sword and let loose a diagonal swing that parried an incoming thread. Safe for the moment, he pressed forward, not once missing his stride.
He's fighting without me.
You forced your aching body to move, wiping away the blood that slipped out from the corners of your mouth.
You'd follow him into the depths of hell, if you had to.
Full-Focused Breathing...
Your eyes flicked up to your ally.
Side-by-side with the boy who ran several paces ahead of you, the rushing water consolidated into the form of the mighty serpent. Power, pride, and bravery etched into its form, it fluxed, weaving through the air without a shred of hesitation, teeth bared in indignation, claws stretched out to pierce its foe.
A strange mixture of ecstasy and nostalgia rose within you, and with newfound strength, you sprung forward.
With your mind incapable of complete and coherent thoughts, only one word surfaced clearly:
Mother.
It was strange.
For so long, the ghost of your mother had haunted you.
Her memory could never be loved in peace, as you'd always remember how she died. How it was your fault. No happy memory of her could be called upon without the threat of grim afterthoughts.
But...
No more.
That wouldn't — couldn't — happen now.
Tanjiro, who performed her Dragon of Change before your very eyes, possessed her courage, her fighting spirit.
To you, he had become everything she represented;
The true embodiment of her voice.
So instead of hurting, instead of lamenting, you finally allowed it to lift you from the void,
whose dark tendrils were wrenched from your ankles,
freeing your spirit.
A biting coldness blossomed at the palm of your right hand, seeping steadily into the steel of your blade.
While you spoke not, your parched lips opened and gently mouthed
Breath of Snow, Fourth Form Modified:
Arctic Longslash.
As the sheet of ice crystallized to encase the entire length of your sword, it didn't stop at the point. It continued to grow, extending your Nichirin Sword by three times its original length, following its curved angle with precision.
Reinforce it.
With each forward step you dared to take, another layer of ice embellished your frozen sword.
More.
The addition of four more layers forced the ice to spread onto your sword hand as well, covering it near completely. The frost stung — no doubt you'd be frostbitten if this kept up for long — but the price was well worth the extra reach, durability, and overall strength.
Tanjiro had flourished in the heat of the battle, shifting through his rotations smoothly and gaining momentum as each occurred. Rui whipped two threads his way, but in a single downwards strike, Tanjiro cut the threads cleanly in the center.
At last, you matched strides with him.
You exhaled.
Think of the blade not as your tool, but as an extension of your own body.
Wanting to end the fight before either of you could pull any more surprises, the demon clawed the space in front of him, sending five threads your way with the intent to fully decimate you. He was not amused by Tanjiro's little improvement. He'd had enough play-time.
Your lead foot crashed into the ground; you pivoted the rest of your body around it and swung your extended blade in a wide arc in front of you.
"Haaah!"
A split second later, the loose ends of the strings sailed harmlessly away in the air, fluttering gently in the wind. The threads had been cut far before they could come close to you or Tanjiro.
You were both in the clear. You could sever Rui's threads.
Rui just stood there.
You narrowed your eyes, urging the blurriness from your vision.
"Hey," he spoke.
Time seemed to slow.
Deliberately, he showcased his hands. A small smile was set upon his lips.
"Did you really think those threads were at their maximum strength?"
The tips of his fingers turned a glorious, intense shade of red.
...His blood—!
The threads attached to those fingers turned the same crimson hue.
His hands made a movement too quick for you to follow with your eyes.
No.
You should've known. You should've foreseen something like this.
"Tanjiro!" you yelled hurriedly. "It's his Blood Demon Art—"
He looked over. By then, it was already too late.
A cage of the blood spiderwebs had been woven and instantly tightened in around the two of you. There were too many to count, and no gaps between them.
Maximum strength, Rui had said. If you'd just barely been able to cut the 'normal' ones, how could you ever hope to triumph over these?
Your heart dropped as you predicted your fate.
We're going to die.
As if in response, the faded image of your mother shook her head.
But she had no power.
She was only a ghost, the creation, the product of your wishful thinking. She was not real. Though she may have tried, she could not do anything for you.
You looked beside you, to Tanjiro.
To your beloved.
He was...
Scared.
His beautiful burgundy eyes were wrought with fear, and it pained you to see him suffer in such a way.
I'm sorry, you told him silently.
I should've done more to make you realize how much you did for me.
How much you meant to me.
As if picking up on your sentiment, his eyes locked with yours.
For a long moment, that was all there was in the world:
You
and him
Bidding each other goodbye.
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•* Tidbits *•
None.
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