Demon Slayer; Kyameron Kamado

Chapter 53.

'Well? What is it this time?' Snarled a frustrated Kyameron, 'Wanna hear about my mission?! Yeah, it went greaaaaaat! Everything went off without a hitch! You ask me the same goddamn thing every single time I get back, and every time it's the same goddamn answer!'

'I was just curious...' Tanjiro squeaked, leaning back on Kyameron's doorframe, 'I like knowing how they go.'

'Yeah, I figured that out when you asked me for the forty-sixth time! If it ever goes awry, I'll come back with a fractured arm or something! Until that happens, quit barging into my room and asking me!!!' Kyameron roared at the top of his lungs, sending a resonating screech around the mansion's vast corridors. It seemed he'd withdrawn into himself, unwilling to allow happiness to deter his goals.

Tanjiro weakly opened the door, slinking through the passageway like a fearful feline. Gently closing the door, he ran off with tears in his eyes, leaving a trail of discarded emotion behind him. Kyameron spun back to his desk, reopening his physics book and flipping to page 246, titled "Muscles; mass or minuscule?" Recklessly turning the pages, he knocked over a cup of steaming hot tea onto a copy of "Swordsmanship 101", which he'd been vigorously reading the night before. 'For god's sake!' He shouted, hastily picking up the cup and making for the tea towel he used to wipe away sweat during exercise. He wiped away the stray bits of boiling hot liquid, but the book was beyond repair. Grasping it with rage, he hurled it out his open window and into the vast woods exceeding the borders. It might have struck a chipmunk, but who cares? They're diminutive and aggravating. Steaming from the ears and metaphorically foaming at the mouth, Kyameron attempted to recenter his focus on the physics book,

"When approaching swordsmanship, one can go many routes with their styles. One may be a powerful, overwhelming attacker with heavy strikes and staunch deflections. Another may be defensively oriented, preferring to force their opponent into errors with their near-infallible stronghold of defence. Some may be quick, agile strikers who tend to strike critical blows to conquer their competitors before they can intercept them. But the question is, what kind of swordsman are you? Is you willing over, staunch with wills and miracles? Undefeated but yet blubbered?"

Kyameron shook his head, trying to purge his mind of all distractions.

"Dost thou desire to ride like a donkey? Drink whistle berries while slurping a cobbler?"

'Fucking- what the hell is this crap?!' Kyameron exclaimed, slamming the book shut and trying to catch his focus. To him, the book had spiralled into incoherent babbling when in reality, he was simply too frustrated to understand. Putting the book away and sliding onto his bed, a knock on the door broke the silence, 'For- I can't get a rest in this crap chute,' Kyameron thought, 'Come in!' He said disinterestedly.

The door opened, revealing Shinobu with Kanao in toe, 'Hello, Kyameron,' Shinobu said, holding the door for Kanao despite it not shutting on its own.

'What brings you two here?' He questioned, sitting up at the head of his bed, 'Speaking of, hello, Kanao,'

'Hello.' She stated mundanely.

'We're here to ask about the fulfillment of your Tsuguko duties. Have you spoken with the master about the matter?' Shinobu asked calmly.

'I have. I don't intend to take it,' Kyameron answered firmly.

Shinobu's smile twitched for a moment before returning to its static position, 'Why not? Haven't you wanted to be a hashira since the day we met at the master's mansion all that time ago?'

'I did then. You're correct; it was a dream of mine,' Kyameron replied, shifting to the side of his bed, 'But that's long gone now. Who am I to replace a man who I let die? Who I let battle an upper moon demon on his lonesome? The man to who I owed so many debts but can never repay?' he continued, staring at the floor as if analyzing every tiny chip in the oak, 'I'm not worthy of replacing a man like that. No way in hell would I allow myself to do that; I refuse to be known as the Hashira who can't save anyone and can't even force an upper moon to leak blood.'