Chapter Text
"I hope your arm is healed enough, Igarashi, it'd be a shame if it became a nuisance to the mission." Iguro quips as soon as he spots him approaching, his words come with the usual edge he carries with his speech.
Standing next to the shorter man is Muuichiro, the youngest Hashira is staring absent-mindedly at the sky. It still makes Sabito feel a little uneasy to witness the surviving Tokito twin by his own, it makes something dull sting in his chest. He averts his gaze when those mint-colored eyes drift from the sky towards him.
Instead of letting his thoughts circle around Tokito, Sabito ought to answer Iguro's comment.
"It could be better, but I'm sure this mission can't be worse than my last one." He answers nonchalantly, knowing deep inside that it will likely push Iguro's buttons the wrong way.
He's proven right when the Snake Hashira's mismatched eyes narrow and one of his eyebrows twitch.
He isn't sure why Iguro and Shinazugawa thought of him as some self-entitled asshole back then, but in all honesty he couldn't care less. And it may be immature of him to start with the wrong foot on purpose again, but Sabito is still bitter at the snarky remarks both men have been making towards Giyuu in the past reunions.
"You…"
"Are you two done with that useless chattering? We better get going." Muuichiro retorts, a stern undertone in his voice that doesn't last long. "… Who are you, by the way?"
Sabito presses his lips in a flat line.
"Igarashi Sabito, recently promoted Water Hashira… sort of." He makes a so-so hand gesture.
The long haired boy tilts his head, his dull eyes blinking slowly before his mouth forms a tiny "o" shape.
"Oh, you're the fox that hovers around the ornament and the frog…"
"Huh… yeah?"
He shouldn't be surprised by Muuichiro's antics, he's always been the weird sibling, if he recalls correctly. Still, it's jarring to see him speaking with some of the edge that's more befitting for his older twin.
Is this how Makomo feels every time she looks at Shinobu? Off-put and confused?
…
Nevermind.
"Anyway, we should get going." Sabito chirps, glancing at Iguro, the shorter male is still giving him a judgmental look. "We can talk about that mission once we're over, if you're still curious, that's it."
He places his mask over his face just in time so Iguro can't see the smirk curving his mouth. He caresses one of the chipped borders and his shoulders sag, Urokodaki will need to craft them new masks, it seems.
Speaking of Urokodaki, he wonders how is he doing with his latest student. It's truth that Senjuro was already training hard enough in the Water Estate and his trip to Mount Sagiri has been mostly to finish polishing his overall skills and stamina.
Maybe he should consider writing to them once this mission is over.
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He wanted to believe he was in good shape. Even if he had stopped his training for a brief period until Urokodaki and the Water Triad took him in as a student, he still had a busy routine taking care of his family estate back then. It hadn't been tough for him to get a grasp on the grueling training imposed by Sabito and then Urokodaki. So needless to say he was deeply ashamed to admit the trip up the mountain already had him sweating and panting as he tracked behind the older man.
Urokodaki's house was considerably smaller than what he was used to, and yet Senjuro found himself quickly feeling comfortable with the cozy atmosphere of it.
The room in which he settled was small and filled with traces of its previous inhabitants. He spotted old clothes carefully folded and piled alongside spare futons in a large wardrobe. There were some scattered wooden figurines, some of them in a perpetual state of incompleteness, and many journals and books were carefully lined up in a small bookshelf.
The small table nested in a corner caught Senjuro's attention, more specifically the dented corner that seemed like a stark contrast to its overall well-kept condition.
That night while they shared dinner, the young blonde couldn't hold back from asking about it —he had realized Sabito's encouragement for him to ask without fear was being fruitful—. The retired Hashira gave a low, gruff chuckle as he served him an extra portion of broth.
"That was Sabito's doing." The man with the tengu mask reached out to ruffle his unruly locks. "He learned the hard way not to train with his sword while being indoors."
The mental image of a younger, less experienced Sabito practicing his katas in that same room just for him to get later scolded by Urokodaki made Senjuro giggle.
"Hah… almost there…" Senjuro pants as he makes his way up the mountain, a heavy basket filled with stones and chopped wood weighing heavy against his shoulders.
Urokodaki had explained to him that, usually, his students began their training by running through the trap course that was set on the mountain until they could do it without breaking a sweat nor falling into the traps. However, considering Sabito had already implemented that exercise during his time training in the Water Estate, he shall try a different training regime for the flame haired boy.
It seems Urokodaki's main focus for now is to help him build up stamina and endurance, hence why he's been constantly running up and around the mountain, each time adding a little more weight to the basket Urokodaki makes him carry.
The air in Mount Sagiri is thinner than anything he'd previously experienced, he wouldn't have doubted that even Tanjiro —who now he knew was raised in a mountain— must have struggled to acclimate to the lack of oxygen. However, Senjuro also understands why these atmospheric conditions can be helpful for aspiring slayers to strengthen their lung capacity, something vital for their profession.
Whenever he's not running around while carrying stuff, Urokodaki splits his training in either running through the trap course, meditating under the waterfall or teaching him how to quickly recover from falling, among other smaller exercises that seem to have been suggested by Giyuu and Makomo (he's pretty certain Makomo has been the one to suggest him learning some basic survival skills, which he must admit never crossed his mind before).
After his first week staying with Urokodaki in the mountain, Senjuro gathered the courage to ask the retired Hashira something that had been bugging his mind for a while.
"Urokodaki-san, how do you make it to reset the trap course so quickly?" Because even if he no longer fell into the traps as much as he used to like how he had done in the Water Estate, the young blonde struggled to imagine just how could Urokodaki place the traps back in place so quickly when he remembered catching glimpses of Sabito and Giyuu running around their estate before dawn while carrying ropes and sticks.
Even with the mask on, Senjuro could guess the old man had a mischievous look in his face as a low amused huff escaped from his lips.
"I usually don't." The old man admitted. "I have some friends who happen to be hunters, they don't ask questions, and in exchange I help them to keep the zone free from demons."
"Eh?"
Senjuro gawked at his mentor as if the older male had grown a second head.
"Hn… now that I think about it, you may be the first child who asked me such a question." Urokodaki's voice suddenly got filled with a thoughtful undertone as the retired Hashira rubbed his chin.
"I-I'm sorry…? Is that a bad thing?"
Senjuro squeaked when one of Urokodaki's rough, wrinkly hands ruffled his golden red-tipped locks in an affectionate manner.
"Not at all, you are a clever one." The retired Hashira praised him. "Finish your meal, I will review your water breathing forms later."
"U… Understood!"
The first time Urokodaki reviewed his forms during their stance on Mount Sagiri, Senjuro wasn't sure how to even begin, which earned him to run laps around the mountain and practice his katas until dusk.
Overtime he's learned to polish his movements. The flowy nature of water breathing proving to be better suited for his lean body in comparison to his family's flame breathing.
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
Senjuro swings his katana in a single horizontal slash. He runs to take impulse against the bark of a nearby tree and takes a leap to perform the next form.
"Second Form: Water Wheel!"
Giyuu explained to him through letters how water breathing relied more on acrobatic, elegant and flowy moves in comparison to the straightforward approach of flame breathing. In the raven's words, it explained why Senjuro struggled to get a grasp onto some of the forms.
The first time he tried performing the second form, Senjuro ended up face planting against the ground. Now he can perform the front flip and land gracefully just fine.
The most analytical part of him wonders if the trap course training is Urokodaki's way to teach his students how to maneuver themselves gracefully and improve their balance and footwork. It's just a hypothesis, but Senjuro wouldn't be surprised if that's the reason as to why he can now perform the third and fourth forms without tripping over his own feet as well.
"Fifth Form: Blessed Rain After the Drought"
"A merciful decapitation? I didn't know there could be such kind of breathing form." He remembers saying that when Sabito taught him the fifth form.
"It is an oddity, even amongst the oldest techniques." He remembers Sabito's voice was unusually thoughtful that day. "Not every water breathing user gets a grasp on it, though, and many who do so deviate from its merciful purpose."
To give a crueler purpose to an otherwise merciful technique… it sends shivers running down Senjuro's spine. His thoughts make him stumble but he's quick to regain momentum, twisting his body to perform the sixth form.
"Sixth Form: Whirlpool!"
"Seventh Form: Drop Ripple Thrust!"
Makomo told him once that one of the strengths of water breathing is its adaptability, as such, their users should be able to quickly switch between offensive and defensive movements. Senjuro considers that the change in pacing between the sixth and seventh forms is a good example of what Makomo said back then.
Urokodaki, who has been overwatching his demonstration, triggers a nearby trap that sends a log clashing towards the fiery haired boy. During his first days of training, he would have panicked and rolled aside.
"Eight Form: Waterfall Basin!"
Now he uses the log to take impulse and perform the eight form midair to slow down his momentum. Still, he knows Urokodaki wants to see more of the knowledge he has gathered being put into practice.
"Ninth Form: Splashing Water Flow!"
According to the retired Hashira, it was Giyuu who suggested he should try learning the ninth form by jumping from pole to pole that had been dug into the ground. Somehow that's been the most normal training Senjuro has had so far, and the youngest Rengoku isn't sure what to think about that.
"Don't lose focus, boy." Urokodaki chides him. As soon as he lands on solid ground, the old man begins throwing pebbles at him as he circles around him.
Senjuro takes a deep breath.
"Tenth Form: Constant Flux!"
He swings his blade in a continuous flowing attack as he chases after Urokodaki while dodging his attacks, the momentum he gains is used when Senjuro takes a leap high to perform a downward slash once he's certain he'll reach his opponent. Constant Flux has been one of the hardest techniques for him to learn. Where most flame breathing forms are based in singular strike attacks, water breathing consists of being in constant motion, and Senjuro has found the third tenth forms particularly taxing. Yet now he can say he's (mostly, he hopes) mastered them.
The sudden realization that he's holding a very real katana that is swinging down towards his mentor makes him momentarily falter, but it's more than enough for the retired Water Hashira to grab him by the collar and toss him over his head. The young boy yelps as he barely prevents himself from ending up rolling over the ground.
"Eek!"
Even when he tries to cushion his fall, Senjuro ends up falling butt first against the ground. Sakonji has to give him the credit that the boy has improved in his reaction time, as he's back to his feet in no time, wincing as he holds back a tiny grunt.
"You can't hesitate in the middle of a combat." His gruff voice comes stern. "Doubt will only lead you to failure, and failure in our field of work only leads to death."
Senjuro lowers his head, his scent sours temporarily with something akin to shame before the young boy composes himself.
"It won't happen again, Urokodaki-san."
Sakonji won't say it out loud, but it reassures him to see how the flame haired boy is getting more confident in himself. Weeks ago, Senjuro would have profusely apologized for his failure and would have silently sulked until he or Sabito dragged him back to train. Now, although the youngest Rengoku may not have his big brother's enthusiasm, Senjuro is starting to feel less like the fickle flame of a candle and more like a small but steady bonfire.
"Caw! Caw! Message from Water Hashira Tamura Makomo!" Makomo's crow comes flying until she gracefully lands on Sakonji's outstretched hand. There's a small letter tied to the bird's leg.
Under Senjuro's curious but polite stare, the retired Hashira unfolds the paper to read its content.
Upper Moon Six has been defeated. Giyuu and Sabito may stay at the Butterfly Estate for their recovery from minor injuries. Tanjiro's case is more delicate, I shall tell you the details the next time we meet.
I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirit.
Yours sincerely, Tamura Makomo.
…
"Uhm… Urokodaki-san?"
He hasn't realized his breaths have become shaky until his current student talks to him.
An Upper Moon has fallen, at last.
The old man takes a look at the boy who's curiously glancing at him. Even if his family has served the corps for generations, he knows Senjuro is too young to fully understand the importance behind such an event. They haven't defeated an Upper Moon for over one hundred years while their Hashira keep dying at their hands.
Sakonji still remembers the moment when he ascended to the role of Hashira. His predecessor had died at the hands of Upper Moon Three. Being one of the most skilled kinoe ranked water breathers, it was a matter of time for him to take over the empty slot. Back then, the most superstitious and frightful members of the corps would rumor that it was a matter of time until Upper Three went after his head, too. He never got to encounter an Upper Moon during his time as a Hashira, and by the time he retired he already had his own demon hunting him, snatching his students.
His latest children survived an encounter with Upper Three, and now they have beheaded Upper Six. They have already told him that Kibutsuji shall be defeated in their generation, yet only now that the signs are becoming clear does Sakonji have the chance to fully let the realization sink.
Of course they couldn't leave unscathed, and Sakonji can still perceive the faint bitter notes of hesitance in Makomo's letter, his oldest living student must have refrained from telling him more details. Foolish girl, is she worried that his old aching heart might not deal well with the news? He shall pay her a visit one of these days to remind her not to underestimate her seniors.
He barely reacts when Senjuro's fluffy hair brushes against his hands as the boy tries to take a look at the letter.
"It is impolite to pry on other's matters." He hears the boy mumbling an apology and his posture softens. "… Tanjiro, Giyuu and Sabito helped defeat Upper Moon Six."
"Eh?!" Senjuro's eyes widen comically as he tightens the grip on his training sword. "That's… great news!"
Sakonji lets out an amused huff upon seeing his student's reaction. The older man places a hand against one of Senjuro's small shoulders —maybe they're not so small anymore, as Senjuro is now shyly around Tanjiro's height; the boy has started to hit his growth spurt, something tells Sakonji that the youngest Rengoku may get to grow even taller than his brother—.
"Let's stop the training for today, we may need to write some letters."
"Y-Yes, Urokodaki-san!"
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Giyuu stares at the blue eyes of his broken kitsune mask, the bright blue eyes stare back at him as he carefully pieces back together the shards that Kyojuro was kind enough to retrieve from the cleaning of the district. Maybe he should consider showing his gratitude to the flame-haired man once he's deemed free to resume duties.
"Don't you know Urokodaki-san will send new masks for you, Igarashi-san and Tanjiro-kun?" He hears Shinobu's melodious voice next to him.
It seems the Insect Hashira has taken a liking in sticking around his room while he recovers. Giyuu doesn't get why, though. Does she fear he'll attempt to run away like Uzui did two days ago?
"Tomioka-san, do I need to double check your ears to make sure Uzui-san's techniques didn't hinder your hearing?" One of Shinobu's slender fingers teasingly pokes him on the shoulder. "I didn't know you were a crafty person, you know? You're quite full of surprises, as I've come to know."
Giyuu purses his lips.
"I'm fine, Kocho." He averts his gaze, pausing the task at hand. "Urokodaki-san encouraged us to find activities that could help us clear our minds when we're not on duty."
Sabito found an interest in reading, while Makomo learnt to make remedies and take care of plants while he remembers vividly asking the retired Water Hashira to teach him how to carve figurines and other wood crafts. And he's pretty certain Tanjiro's journals for his little sister were quietly encouraged by their mentor as a way for the boy to clear his mind after training.
Shinobu hums, her eyes crinkling the slightest as her smile turns into something more genuine. If he had to be honest, that smile suits her better than Kanae's, but even as dense as he knows he is, Giyuu is certain Shinobu wouldn't like that comment.
"My, my, it never ceases to surprise me how much have I learnt from our dear Water Hashira in such a short span after years of knowing each other."
Of course she'd find a way to throw a jab at him. A long sigh escapes his lips.
"It wasn't relevant before."
"Oh? And why is it relevant now?" He's momentarily taken aback by the soft frown etched on Shinobu's forehead, as if she's trying to understand the meaning behind those words.
He resumes his task of piecing the mask back together.
"I am the only person who can provide you of more context regarding them"
His fellow Hashira deserve to know more about Makomo and Sabito, the fact that he's attached to their shared background is only an addition no one should care too much about —he gets once again the distinctive gut feeling that Sabito would slap him if he could read his thoughts—.
Shinobu looks at him in that way that makes her purple eyes feel even more scrutinizing. He tries to appear nonchalant about it as he leans forward to reach for another piece of the mask when a stinging pain spreads through his midsection, it causes him to wince in pain; his bandaged arm does little to cooperate, as some of the stitches rub uncomfortably against some loose bandages.
"My, my, Tomioka-san, you really are hopeless." Despite her words, there's an odd fondness on Shinobu's voice as she carefully coaxes him to rest back against the soft pillows.
He tries to protest when the female pillar puts his restoration project aside and goes to the nearest cabinet to fetch clean bandages and medical supplies.
"Kocho…"
"Some habits die hard, it seems." Shinobu chirps while checking on his wounds. Luckily his torso is fine, and the doctor has no issue readjusting the bandages on his arm. "Try not to push yourself too much, it'll only slow down your recovery."
"… Hn," he acknowledges her with a small grumble. His eyes wander to the half-finished project and then the door. Is she implying he should refrain from going anything in the meantime? "So am I not allowed to move?"
He receives another of Shinobu's chuckles for an answer.
"Not really, you're allowed to visit Tanjiro-kun and play with Nezuko-chan when she's visiting, and if you can work with one hand only, I suppose you can keep up with this, though…" the petite woman carefully takes the broken masks. "I don't know if I can trust you won't ignore my advice and push yourself too much."
"Oi." Giyuu can feel his ears burning in embarrassment as his colleague's smile turns more playful.
"Don't worry! What about this? I keep this with me, and you can work on it when I come visit you for your checkups?" She chirps, that playful tone never dropping. "I'll even make sure to visit as often as my schedule allows me."
It makes Giyuu frown on mild annoyance, the purple haired woman has always been like that, sharp and cunning even before Kanae's passing.
Still, he must admit Shinobu's company isn't unpleasant nor unwanted. Sure, the petite woman often gets on his nerves, but she's always been one of his few fellow Hashira who stubbornly kept talking to him.
"Tomioka-san?"
"Okay," he mumbles, yet he can feel his features softening a little and the corners of his mouth lifting. "… Thank you for taking care of me, Kocho."
He hears a startled sound coming from her mouth, but he isn't sure if that's one of her angry sounds or if it's something else.
"I'm only fulfilling my duty, Tomioka-san." She mutters, her carefully crafted mask once again back on her face. "My, my, time sure flies, I should resume checking on the other patients before my night patrol."
With a polite bow, the petite woman rushes out of his room, leaving him deeply confused.
… Did he say something wrong?
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Thud
"You idiot! It's all your fault!"
"Hah?! How's it my fault when it was your plan ya' stupid bitch?!"
"Say that to my face again?!"
Sabito resists the urge to groan when the decapitated heads keep arguing as they disintegrate. Fortunately, in no time there's nothing left but the echoes of their bickering.
They had been quite the annoying pair. While the female demon could launch projectiles by moving an abacus, the male demon seemed able to launch shockwaves with the small drums attached to his hips. As much as they were a rather troublesome combo, Sabito managed to deal with them with relative ease.
The peach haired slayer wipes the remaining blood from the blade before he sheathes his katana. He notices the blade is getting dull, it might be a sign to contact his bladesmith for its required maintenance. Kurobe-san won't be happy to know he's being careless with his sword, but at least his children seem very polite and tame in contrast to him, at least from what Makomo and Giyuu told him.
He looks back to the path where he came from, surely Iguro and Muuichiro are dealing with their part just fine, still, it never hurts to double check.
The three of them were sent on the pursuit of an elusive demon that hunted near a relatively big city. Somehow, the demon turned out to be formed of four separate demons, two males and two females, each one with their own Blood Demon Art. Sabito isn't sure why it has been labeled as a single demon in the reports; cases of demons that manage to evolve and split their beings on different bodies, albeit rare, are not impossible, what is unusual is for each one of them to wield its own skill set.
The memory of what Mitsuri and Takeo told from their fight against Upper Four makes him wonder if this demon (demons?) was aspiring to that same level of power. After the defeat of Lower One, Tamayo had guessed that relatively strong demons might want to climb up the hierarchy now that the Lower Moons had been wiped out, it shouldn't be much different for them to want to aspire for the sixth rank left vacant after the defeat of the former Upper Moon Six.
Maybe he should consider asking her opinion during their next visit…
Sabito keeps thinking about that incoming task until he reaches a small clearing where he spots Iguro's familiar striped haori alongside Muuichiro's long hair.
"Mist Breathing, Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Slash"
He manages to overhear the youngest male muttering just as the demon's head falls with a soft thud, his body quickly disintegrating.
"Was that the last one?"
"Hn, I assume then that you dealt with the other two without further problem."
"They were a pain in the ass, not much of a trouble to behead them since they kept arguing with each other, though."
"Hm…"
Iguro hums as he secures his curved blade in its special case, Kaburamaru flicks his tongue against the pillar's cheek in an affectionate gesture, to which the older raven answers by patting the snake's head.
"The one with the incense burner?"
"I took care of her." The serpent pillar explains nonchalantly. "Tokito dealt with the last one… I still don't understand why Oyakata-sama would request three Hashira to deal with such weak demons."
"Are we done here?" Muuichiro asks no one in particular, his crow already boasting over her slayer's greatness.
"Not yet. It wouldn't hurt to make sure there's not a fifth demon hidden somewhere." Sabito answers. "Oyakata-sama must have considered the threat significant enough for three Hashira to intervene, it doesn't hurt to be certain it's gone for good. "
Iguro narrows his eyes, while Muuichiro blinks slowly, lost back in his mental fog. Nevertheless both comply with his suggestion.
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Once he's sure Senjuro is fast asleep Sakonji resumes his latest crafts.
Makomo had added an extra note explaining that both Giyuu's and Tanjiro's masks have broken during the fight, and she added that Sabito's mask looked pretty roughened as well. There are still traces of grief in the letter, and Sakonji can only huff.
His children really treasure the masks even if they probably already know the ugly secret behind them. The grudge that he unknowingly helped feed for so long.
At first he considered refusing to make them new ones, but the sweet scent akin to fondness that came from them whenever they seemed to reach for their masks made him consider that, maybe, now that the threat was over the warding masks could keep protecting them, especially now that they are bound to face bigger challenges.
Next to Tanjiro's new mask is a blank one, it already has the design drafted on its surface. He'll need to double check if he's got enough yellow and red pigments.
The next final selection will be in a few months, and he has agreed on giving Senjuro the boulder test after the mission in Yoshiwara, only if he deems him ready.
Given the proper guidance, the boy has significantly improved, and something tells Sakonji he could pass this test without much struggle. And still, he can't help but feel anxious at the prospect of sending the child to the Final Selection after that.
Hopefully Makomo's plan will be fruitful. He should trust more in his children.
Giving a weary sigh, the old man pushes those thoughts aside to focus on his current task as he keeps carving the masks.
