𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗗𝗘

19

ıllıllı 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚 ıllıllı

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

This demon was going to be a problem. Y/N could tell by the way a chill settled in her bones, and how she wanted to protect everyone around her. This would be a battle to remember.

"Even as a Hashira, your strength is not enough. Because you're merely a human— destined to grow old and die eventually," he extended his tattooed hand forward, "become a demon, Kyojuro." The disrespect to not even ask for permission in using his first name was enough. Y/N could feel her blood boil at the blatant dismissive attitude. She wanted to rip his throat out. Not only that, but he wasn't even acknowledging her. It made her want to end his life so fast, that he would've wished he spared a glance at her.

But she kept her calm. She kept the angry, furious tremble of her fingers in control. She would let it build up, pile, and burst like a dam when it was necessary. Because right now, her only option was to seethe in silence.

"Both growing old and passing away, those are things that make being a human beautiful. Those may seem like weaknesses to you, but our lives are all the more precious because of them. You see, true strength does not just refer to the physical body. This boy is not weak. Do not insult him. Let me be clear. You and I will never see eye to eye. No matter what twisted reasons you give, I will not yield." Y/N felt a flutter in her stomach, one that made her smile.

Sometimes she forgot that this Hashira wasn't always just blunt and peppy. He was wise, and he was smart. He had a soul like fire, and a spirit willing to share his passions through his words. They would spread like a torrential flood.

Akaza's face dropped.

"I see."

And then the ground beneath them began to shake as his foot broke through it, creating a snowflake-like pattern. Her stomach dropped. The pure power wafting off of it was enough to make her sweat. 

"Destructive Death: Compass Needle."

Y/N studied him. His form.

He has no weapons. He is taking a stance commonly used in hand-to hand combat, preferably martial arts. Does he seriously intend to fight with his bare hands? No, he does. He has to. There's nothing around him to manipulate that I can sense has a demon's power over it. So this will be a close-range battle.

Kyojuro readied his sword, and they were at each others throat in an instant, rushing to meet in the middle of the barren dirt. They spun and moved around like tops, kicking up dirt and small rocks as they exchanged blows. Y/N didn't step in yet.

She needed an opening.
A move.
A strategy.
Something.

Akaza was faring well, despite all odds. His fists were like metal, as he easily deflected the blade repetitively. The only thing Y/N had on him was her speed and reflexes. When it came to those, she had demon-like qualities. She might not be as strong as the other Hashira, but she knew how to catch someone off guard. She needed to integrate that into her plan. If she could form one, that is.

Her eyes darted from body to body, tracking them with ease. Kyojuro was fast, but Akaza was multiple tenfold times faster. They were exchanging words, definitely provocative, as the Flame Hashira looked like he was about to be livid. Akaza just grinned. But Kyojuro sliced off his arm... only for him to regenerate in a mere second. This was going to be tiresome.

Destructive Death: Air Type

Y/N watched as her comrade took blows that came out of thin air, Akaza taking another stance that showed his prowess for the arts. Kyojuro retaliated.