61
After some time had passed, your heavy eyelids fluttered open.
You groaned quietly, your body still aching but… not nearly as bad as before. The bandages you’d messily wrapped around yourself had stopped most of the bleeding, and the dull throb of your side was now manageable. Blinking away the haze, you peeked through the debris of your hiding spot—just in time to see the entire battlefield glowing in flickers of orange and red, the air thick with smoke and ash. The wreckage of buildings burned like hell’s backdrop.
That’s when you saw him.
Tanjiro.
Sitting just a few feet away, Nezuko’s box by his side, head bowed. His sword lay across his lap, and his face was marked with soot and dried blood. But he was alive. Breathing.
You stumbled out of your hiding spot, heart racing with relief. “Tanjiro!!” you hissed—not too loud, just enough for him to hear without alerting that sickle-wielding psychopath.
His head whipped around. “Y/N—!!” he gasped, eyes wide as he scrambled up. The second you reached him, Tanjiro threw his arms around you, gripping you like you’d disappear if he blinked.
“I was so worried about you!!” he cried, his voice breaking against your shoulder.
You smiled softly, ignoring the twinge in your side, and wiped the tears from his dirt-streaked cheeks. “There, there, don’t worry about me, Tanji!! I can protect myself. I’m built different.”
He sniffled, letting out a tiny laugh. “Of course you are...”
But the moment didn’t last.
Tanjiro suddenly pushed himself front of you, tense, protective.
“What’s this?” a voice slithered into your ears, low and grating. Gyutaro.
You looked up just in time to see him emerge from the shadows like a plague, scratching his forehead violently. His yellow eyes glinted like rusted metal, locked onto you and Tanjiro.
“You’re still alive? Seriously?” he spat, and then his eyes slid to you.
“And you... Me and Daki’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.” He took a step forward, his body twitching grotesquely.
Your spine stiffened.
“Where did you even hide, huh?!” he hissed, grin sharp with malice.
Tanjiro clenched his jaw, stepping closer to shield you completely. He let out a shaky breath—not from fear, but from relief that they hadn’t found you when he was unconscious. That they didn’t hurt you more.
Gyutaro tilted his head, smirking.
“You’re one lucky guy... But luck’s all you’ve got going for you. I feel sorry for you, really! Everyone but you two is probably done for. That blond crybaby? He’s trapped under the rubble and flailing. I’m gonna let him suffer until he dies. And that flashy hashira? The poison got to him—stopped his heart. He’s dead now. It’s over for him.”
Your eyes widened, stomach lurching.
Zenitsu—!
You slipped away from Tanjiro’s side quietly as Gyutaro kept talking, his voice full of smug decay. Moving as fast and quiet as you could, you darted across the shattered street, eyes scanning the rubble—
There!
A faint glow of lightning flickered beneath fallen timber.
You rushed to the pile and yanked the debris aside, hands burning from the sharp edges. “Zenitsu…!” you whispered desperately.
When you uncovered him, he was slumped over, body trembling slightly. You dragged him out gently and laid his head on your lap. You pulled a few spare bandages from your pocket—leftovers from your earlier mini medical miracle—and started patching up the blood seeping from his temple.
“Zenitsu…” you mumbled, your tone surprisingly soft for someone who usually called him a simp on sight. He may be dramatic. He may be a flirt. But you couldn’t deny it—he fought hard, and you cared about him.
You ran your hand through his hair, trying to soothe him.
Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. Unfocused at first.
“Mmm… am I in heaven?” he murmured, voice scratchy. “Who’s this beautiful angel holding me…?”
He blinked. Squinted.
“…Y/N?!” he squeaked, suddenly clinging to your sleeve. “It’s you!! It’s really you!! I missed you so much, angel-chan!! I thought— I thought my future wife was gonna die!!”
You blinked.
“…I carried you out of actual rubble and this is what you say?”
“I SAW THE LIGHT, Y/N! THE LIGHT!”
“Oh my god.”
“You saved me! You cradled me in your lap like the goddess you are!”
“…I should’ve left you under the wood.”
“But then I wouldn’t get this close to your face—"
You shoved his face away.
"Boundaries, Zenitsu. Boundaries."
Zenitsu turned his head weakly, eyes fluttering open just enough to catch sight of Gyutaro looming over Tanjiro.
“T-T-T-THAT—” he stuttered, voice cracking in fear, before promptly passing out again with a dramatic sigh.
You let out a tired breath and slowly rose to your feet. “Bro really just said nope and dipped into unconsciousness,” you muttered, brushing dirt off your hands.
Carefully, you crept back toward Tanjiro, making as little sound as possible, hugging the shadows. But as you got closer—your stomach turned.
Gyutaro was crouched in front of Tanjiro, his filthy fingers brushing against the boy’s hair in a mockingly affectionate way.
“Instead of being protected by your sister,” Gyutaro said with a grin, voice dripping venom, “you should be protecting her.”
Then his other hand reached out—long, sharp nails curling around Tanjiro’s fingers like they were fragile twigs.
“Devotedly. With this hand? See?”
SNAP.
Tanjiro groaned in pain as Gyutaro broke his fingers one by one. His head dropped, teeth gritted in silence. He didn’t scream—but you could see the agony in his shaking shoulders.
And that’s when Gyutaro slapped his head like it was some kind of punishment. Mocking. Repeated. Cruel.
Yeah. Nah. You weren’t letting that slide.
You stormed up and grabbed Gyutaro’s wrist, your grip vice-tight and burning with fury.
“The hell do you think you’re doing, Gyattaru?” you snarled, the nickname slipping out before your brain could stop your mouth
You thanked god this was the Taisho era—no one here knew what "gyatt" meant.
Gyutaro blinked. “...Gyatta-what?”
“Shhh. Don’t worry about it.” You glared down at him, still holding his wrist. He was crouched, so your eyes met, sharp and steady.
Then, you turned your head.
“Tanjiro,” you said, calm but firm. “Run.”
“What?! No, I’m not leaving you”
“I said 𝙍𝙐𝙉.”
Your voice rang out like a command Tanjiro had to obey.
Your grip on Gyutaro’s wrist faltered slightly as Tanjiro hesitated, then finally grabbed Nezuko’s box and darted off. He looked back once—eyes full of guilt—but didn’t stop.
Good.
That meant he trusted you.
As soon as Tanjiro was out of range, Gyutaro yanked his arm back, rising to full height.
His smile dropped.
His eyes sharpened.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he growled, dark energy practically radiating off him.
You rolled your shoulders, cracked your neck, and smirked despite the ache in your ribs and the blood soaking your sleeve.
“Are you blind or some shit?” you snapped, eyes narrowing as you stared Gyutaro down.
He didn’t respond—his gaze flicked past you, zeroing in on Tanjiro running with Nezuko’s box clutched to his chest.
And then—he ignored you.
Ignored you.
Gyutaro lunged past you like you weren’t even there, and in one brutal swing, he punched Tanjiro square in the gut, sending him flying across the battlefield like a ragdoll. Tanjiro’s body crashed through the air and slammed into the burning wreckage nearby, ash and embers shooting into the sky like sparks from hell.
You stood frozen for a second, mouth falling open.
“…Did that bitch just ghost me mid-fight?”
Gyutaro stalked toward the debris as Tanjiro struggled, coughing and clawing his way out of the rubble with shaking limbs.
“So disgraceful,” Gyutaro sneered, his voice laced with disgust. “You really are pathetic. Letting her protect you?”
Tanjiro winced but kept crawling, grabbing a chunk of broken wood and chucking it at Gyutaro, weak but determined. It bounced harmlessly off the demon’s arm.
Your eye twitched.
Your hands clenched into fists.
"—Oh HELL no."
Your footsteps thundered as you sprinted toward them, your voice ringing across the flaming battlefield.
“DON’T YOU DARE IGNORE ME, YOU ROTTEN PIZZA-FACED DUMPSTER DEMON!!”
With a full-speed run-up, you drop-kicked Gyutaro in the side of the head so hard he spun like a Beyblade and crashed into the ground.
“BOOM, BITCH!” you shouted as he hit the dirt.
Then, you dramatically put a hand over your chest like a wounded princess. “My pride my actual pride how dare you skip past me like I’m a background character?! I have main character eyeliner on!!”
Tanjiro blinked up at you from the rubble, bruised and winded.
“…Y/N…?”
You held up a finger. “Shhh. Let me have this moment.”
Then you glared down at Gyutaro.
Gyutaro growled, the side of his face twitching where your kick had landed. Black veins pulsed under his skin as he stood up again, crooked and furious.
“You little—” he started, sickles dragging on the ground with a screech.
But before he could finish, a high-pitched shriek echoed from above.
“𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐄𝐄𝐑!!”
Daki’s voice pierced through the smoke as she launched toward the two of you, obi ribbons whipping through the air, her expression twisted in rage.
You instinctively stepped in front of Tanjiro, ready to swing again when a yellow streak of lightning crackled out of nowhere.
SWOOSH!
“𝘋𝘖𝘕’𝘛. 𝘛𝘖𝘜𝘊𝘏. 𝘠/𝘕-𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘕!!”
Zenitsu lunged from the flames, asleep but deadly, his blade a blur of light. His sword sliced clean across the air, narrowly missing Daki’s neck—but enough to shred two of her obis and send her flying back mid-scream.
Her body hit the rooftop with a thud as Zenitsu landed silently, his body still in that dreamlike stance, sword drawn, face blank.
You blinked. “Okay, not gonna lie, Sleeping Beauty’s kinda slaying right now.”
Gyutaro snarled at the distraction—but didn’t stop. His sickles whirled through the air with deadly precision as he turned and charged Tanjiro, who barely managed to block one of the incoming strikes.
“𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐦!!” you screamed, preparing to throw yourself forward again—
But you didn’t need to.
CLANG!!
A flash of silver and a wave of pressure exploded between Gyutaro and Tanjiro as a new figure entered the battlefield.
Tengen Uzui.
Bloodied, bruised, and missing one arm—but standing tall.
His eyes glinted with a feral sort of confidence, teeth gritted in a smirk. He held one nichirin blade in his mouth, the other clutched tightly in his remaining hand.
“You seriously thought I was dead?” he said around the handle, his voice muffled but cocky. “That’s not very flashy of you.”
You gasped. “Uzui—?!”
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