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"Kamado! Leave with your sister and comrades! Evacuate with everyone else!" Kyojuro ordered as he leapt back to avoid an incoming fist.
"But, Rengoku-sa—" Tanjiro started, just to be abruptly cut off by the heavily injured man, who turned his head ever so slightly to look at him.
"Leave me, young Kamado. I will fight him... in the honour... of the Flame Hashira title," Kyojuro panted, soon after running back into battle, leaving no room for argument.
Tanjiro hesitated, eyebrows creased, but still complied. Even if he stayed behind, he wouldn't be able to fight well in his injured state and would only weigh down his senior. He turned around, clutching his wound and sprinted as much as he could, but not before sparing the hashira one last glance.
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Kyojuro took a quick glance back, smiling ever-so-slightly once he knew Tanjiro was safe. The fight ensued, and as it went on, it was clear that Akaza had the upper hand against the tired and weakened Kyojuro.
The Flame Hashira's attacks were slowing down, his mind beginning to black out while his muscles weakened from fatigue. Being well trained in martial arts, Akaza was quick to notice the window chance as Kyojuro sluggishly brought his sword up. He took the opportunity and aimed his fist forward forcefully, puncturing a hole in the slayer's stomach.
Kyojuro's eyes widened in pain, his mouth slowly opening to cough up blood. His orange-tinted uniform grew heavy for his weak body, the area above his previously clean white belt now soaked and stained with crimson blood.
Maybe he should have been surprised, then again, he'd expected this, after all.
The moment Akaza appeared, he knew he stood no chance. He may have been a Hashira, but he didn't stand a chance against such a highly-ranked Twelve Kizuki. He was doomed the moment his sword landed in Akaza. Nonetheless, he knew he could potentially hold the demon back until sunrise. And that was what he did. Or at the very least, what he hoped he succeeded in doing.
Akaza retracted his arm from his victim, letting the soon-to-be corpse fall to the ground. He stood over the fallen Hashira, looking down on him.
Kyojuro's wide eyes remained staring ahead, seemingly paralysed by the pain. His mind, however, was racing. It flashed through his memories. Some were back when he was but a child, aware of the gruesome monsters sharing his world, others recent, of his fellow Hashiras and juniors. Memories and regrets raced past, until his mind finally settled on him. Senjuro, his sweet little brother, forced to grow up too fast in that toxic household (Not like Kyojuro himself didn't either). He wished he had taken the chance to leave a letter to Senjuro, remind him to take it easy on his young body. Alas, he never did, even despite the fact he very well knew he may never return back.
Senjuro, I'm sorry your brother wasn't strong enough. I hope you know your big brothers love for you will always burn for centuries to come. Please, don't overwhelm yourself with expectations. You aren't obliged to carry on the family's legacy, your life is your own choice. I'm sorry to leave you to it, but please, take care of Father.
"Kyojuro, are you really not going to join me?" Akaza pouted mockingly, only for the expression to morph into an emotionless one, "After all, you do realise you will, one way or another, and let me tell you, the odds are already in my favour."
Kyojuro felt something in him tick. He thought he knew what Akaza was implying, unable to hold back the soft but audible "What?" that left his mouth, earning a malicious grin from the Uppermoon.
