...
In Caring Arms
Chapter XIV
"I will accept no advantage"
The mist's hallucinogenic affects made this a severe, almost insurmountable, task.
Shinobu had realized this the moment she, Kanao, Giyu, and Mitsuri entered the fog. At first, they'd assessed the situation carefully, tried to find another way into the great forest of Natagumo, hoping to avoid contact with the smoke-like gas flowing in every direction. But there had been no other way in, but through.
The entire terrain was bathed in an eerie, white mist that made them stiffen in preparation of a fierce battle.
Even from afar, she could tell that something had gone horribly wrong on this mission, something far worse than Master Kagaya speculated. There were powerful demons residing within the mist. Shinobu knew. And her two companions knew as well, for the senses of a Hashira had been sharpened to their utmost limits, to such a degree that even the mere presence of those creatures sent warning tingles down their spines. At least, it did for her. It always had. Back then too, when she'd held her older sister as she died, assaulted by an icy wind she could never forget.
They'd talked, all three of them, debating whether it was wise to enter this blatant trap.
The debate was short lived, however. Because as Hashira, as pillars of the corps, it was their duty to lay down their lives, to take deadly risks, if it meant protecting their subordinates.
Giyu had agreed. Mitsuri, albeit nervous of the mist, had agreed as well. Shinobu, along with her student, did not protest.
They entered the mist, not knowing what awaited them.
Then, chaos.
Assaulted by creatures of ice minutes into their assignment, Shinobu had lost Giyu and Mitsuri in the confusion. They'd run off in different directions, fooled by the mist, fooled by things that were not there.
To her regret, and great shame, she also lost Kanao in the fog as well. The forest had changed and spun, twisting, turning, tricking her sense of direction as she tried to find her student, her little sister.
Kanao was strong. She had even greater potential than Shinobu. But she was still so young, still inexperienced, and Shinobu feared for her safety.
Now, Shinobu was alone. She walked through a world of white, plagued by what she assumed was a Blood Demon Art.
It was one of the most peculiar abilities she'd ever faced. Not offensive in the usual manner, not defensive either. It was something else. Something cruel and unusual and very, very effective—for even they, the Hashira, had been fooled into running off like lost children in a dark forest.
Her older sister was here too, standing beside her.
That was the worst part.
Shinobu ignored her, heart thudding with a strange mixture of anger and sorrow.
Kanae was just as she remembered her: tall and happy and beautiful. That same beaming smile, those same lavender eyes.
Shinobu could hardly bear the thought of this being fake. It was just so real.
And the thing that pained her the most was the fact that she'd almost forgotten what her older sister looked like.
She could hear her. Kanae was busy chatting about her day, as if she hadn't been brutally murdered four years ago. She spoke happily, without a care in the world, oblivious to the emotional turmoil that raged through Shinobu's mind.
This was torture. A different kind of torture. It was psychological warfare, meant to have Shinobu let her guard down just enough for—
A pair of arms burst through the mist, intent on grabbing her.
They were strong, powerful, and made of ice. Shinobu avoided them with a swift motion. She leapt back, then saw another creature of ice wielding a spear. It attempted to stab her through the legs, a non-lethal attack.
Shinobu dodged again, deeming them slow. Most things were to her. Most people were. As one of the fastest among the Hashira, if not the fastest, being caught was the least of her concerns.
After all, few could ever hope to match her speed in combat, let alone exceeded it—well, except for one person.
Images of that whiskered blond flashed before her mind as she avoided more arms bursting from the mist. She shook her head with a small smile, then drew her sword.
Really, Shinobu, she mused. Thinking of him now of all times.
Shinobu shot forward, skewering the ice-creature with her rapier-like katana. Her sword struck the head of her foe, ice spraying from the puncture site.
Nothing.
It didn't die. Not even her stronger poisons worked against these things, because they were inorganic. Controlled by a demon, yes, but inorganic, nonetheless. She frowned, leaping away before it could seize her.
She may not be as strong as Mitsuri, or Kanae, but she was fast, and most of that speed came from the power of her legs.
In moments, she shattered the ice-creatures with a series of kicks, turning them into fine particles of ice, nearly indistinguishable from the mist.
Landing, Shinobu continued moving. She didn't know where she was going, but she kept forward. Her sister materialized once more, this time, angry, a look that did not suit her normally jovial features.
"You let me die…" the ghost whispered.
Shinobu froze, eyes widening.
"What?"
Kanae gazed at her, brows furrowed. "You heard me, Shinobu. You. Let. Me. Die. You didn't avenge me in the end, did you?"
Shinobu took in a shuddering breath, but said nothing.
"You're a failure," Kanae continued grimly. "You've given up. You've given up on killing the demon that murdered me. I know you have. I can see in your eyes. Was four years not enough time to find them? Were you so incompetent that you couldn't locate one demon?"
Shinobu did not respond. What was the point? It wasn't like she could reason with this false apparition.
Even then, their words struck home, turning her stomach.
That feeling of disgust gave way to unbridled wrath. She gritted her teeth, fists clenching so hard she thought she'd draw blood.
"I'm going to kill you," Shinobu hissed to the mist. "Whoever you are, you will suffer for tarnishing the memory of my sister."
…
Soon after, still plagued by images Kanea, Shinobu followed the sound of thunder. Or what sounded like thunder. A loud boom had echoed through the forest. A distinct crack she could not ignore.
She ran there, following the noise.
And she found him. A blond boy, crippled by poison.
His spider-like foe lay dying below, burning away in the mist.
Leaping high above, she landed on a small wooden house suspended by what she assumed were webs, tiny, nearly invisible webs.
Despite all that she'd seen, despite being tortured by the sight of Kanae, Shinobu plastered on a winning smile as she helped the boy who had fought so fiercely.
He'd given it his all. She was sure he'd been seeing visions too, probably of a loved one. Still, he set his feelings aside and did his duty, while poisoned and clearly weakened.
Shinobu synthesized an antidote on the spot with her tools. She administered it, then held the boy's hand between hers.
He blushed vibrantly, and her smile became genuine.
"You were very brave," she whispered to him. He didn't respond, too tired, still under the poison's affects. So, she sat with him for a time, listening to his breathing ease, becoming less labored as time passed.
"T-thank you," he finally spoke, voice hoarse. He was a lot smaller now, his limbs swollen and misshapen, but with her antidote working through his system, he should return to normal with extensive physical therapy and continued medication. After all, this wasn't her first time dealing with demons that used poisons.
Shinobu held his hand tighter. He flushed again, looking at her like she was some kind of angel. She found it adorable. But deep down, Shinobu knew that she was far from angel. Kanae had been, though. Her older sister had been a genuine, caring person who never masked her true emotions behind a false smile.
Shinobu introduced herself and learned that his name was Zenitsu. He'd been one of the four recent graduates of Final Selection, along with Kanao.
"I know you're tired," she said softly. "But please, try to remember. Were you the only one poisoned? Were others with you?"
Zenitsu thought for a moment, fighting exhaustion. "N-no. There were others here. I ran into a lot of demon slayers after being fooled by the mist. It was like… they led a bunch of us to this spot."
Shinobu leaned closer. "What happened to them?"
"Some were killed. Some were captured—not poisoned. I saw it happen. And I was the only one left standing in the end, poisoned because I was too much trouble for the spider girl and her brother to handle."
She frowned.
Capturing?
What was happening on this mountain?
"D-did I do something wrong?" Zenitsu asked meekly. "Should I have tried harder to save the others?
Shinobu hushed him with a comforting smile. "You did fine, Zenitsu."
She ran her fingers through his hair, gently, until he fell asleep.
Good. The anesthetic had finally set in, and he would be out for some time. Hopefully, long enough for them to put this mess to an end.
Shinobu glanced at Zenitsu, biting her lip. She hoped he would be hidden up here, away from any demons below. But just as a safety measure, she reached into the inner pocket of her haori, which contained her medical supplies, and left a particularly potent strand of wisteria in his pocket.
I'll come back for you, she thought, then leapt down from the house.
When Shinobu descended, she didn't expect to land on top of a familiar demon with orange streaks in her hair.
…
Inosuke was too slow. That was expected, since he was still injured. So, Naruto hoisted him up, carried him, and ran, much to the teen's embarrassment.
"Hey! Put me down, blondie!" he bellowed from behind, riding piggy back. "I can run with my own two feet, dammit!"
"Yeah, but not as fast as this."
Naruto moved. He tore through the forest, a bubble of wind still swirling around him, cutting through futile attempts to fool him with the mist. Inosuke screamed. At first with alarm, then with sheer, unbridled excitement.
Naruto took to the trees, leaping branches as he once did in the forests of Kohona.
He laughed, felt the teen's hold around him tighten. Inosuke was laughing now too, and Naruto weaved past every obstacle that came his way, every tree, every stray branch, until, surprisingly, he spotted another settlement of injured Demon Slayers.
Ahead, Naruto could still sense the demon he'd been chasing down. They'd disappeared into the mist, retreating further away as he decided to slow to a halt.
They were in a large field, as far as he could tell. The mist wasn't nearly as thick in this area, and ten Demon Slayers huddled together. Some were injured, some unconscious, some still holding their swords in defiance.
They were being protected by a single person.
It was a woman with vibrant pink hair. She alone faced down a massive creature of ice, the largest he'd seen so far on the mountain. Even from afar, Naruto could tell she was no ordinary Demon Slayer. Her sword was the most peculiar thing about her. It was whip-like, extending forward with every swing she took, a crack of air resounding through the clearing.
What she fought was not a typical ice-soldier.
Naruto's eyes narrowed.
For one, it was floating above her. Shaped like a complex snowflake, with intricate patterns running along it's frozen surface, the ice-creature hovered over one hundred meters in the air, high above the woman's reach.
It spun rapidly, releasing a strange buzzing noise. Then, it launched hundreds of ice-bullets.
They rained down on the huddled Demon Slayers. The woman standing in front swung her sword, teeth gritted. She batted away the offending projectiles as best she could. Her blade, now extended, was almost invisible, blurring through the air as she swiped, destroying most of the bullets. But more kept coming. Some nicked her side, her face, and one even pierced her shoulder.
She screamed in pain, but kept up the assault.
If she were alone, Naruto was sure she would have defeated this creature. Yet she was using herself as a shield, protecting the frightened slayers behind her with a bravery and resolve that touched his heart.
Naruto changed course and ran toward her. He stretched forth a hand, gathering chakra for a larger-scale Gale Palm.
A pressurized blast of wind tore forward, ripping up the ground and parting the mist. The gust sailed upward, slammed into the giant snowflake, and caused it to change course, where it continued firing those ice-bullets elsewhere. The winds carried it far away, into several trees, slowing its onslaught for several minutes.
He was at the woman's side moments later, letting Inosuke clamber off his back.
"Are you okay?" Naruto asked.
Panting slightly, but otherwise uninjured, she nodded, then paused. The woman studied him closely, pale-green eyes fixed on his own. She was looking at him strangely, almost as if she knew him. He took a moment to study her as well, from her interesting cut of uniform, to her vibrant pink and green hair. She was very pretty, her aura pleasant and inviting.
"Wait," she suddenly said. "Who are you? Are you a Demon Slayer?"
Naruto smiled. "Nope. Just a doctor who happened to find himself in another mess with you Demon Slayers."
She studied him again, a smile of her own lighting up.
"You're him!"
"Him?" he inquired.
"The doctor! Shinobu mentioned you. Blond hair, with whisker-marks," the woman spoke excitedly. "She didn't say much, but she told me about meeting you in Tokyo. Your name is—wait, don't tell me—it's Naruto! Right?"
"Yeah." He chuckled at her boisterous constitution. So, Shinobu mentioned him, huh? And not just to her Master, either. She'd even gone as far as describing him to her colleague.
I wonder what else she said about me.
Probably something amusing or untrue. Probably both.
"Silly me. I didn't introduce myself," said the woman. "I'm Mitsuri Kanroji, one of the Hashira. It's nice to meet you."
Her bright, amiable personality was a wonderful contrast against the dullness of this mountain, and Naruto found himself grinning in return.
"It's nice to meet you, Mitsuri." He looked her over with a practiced gaze, took note of the cuts and bruises from that hail of ice-bullets. The one that struck her head-on hadn't managed to penetrate her shoulder, even though it seemed so from afar. She was a tough one, as all Hashira were, he assumed.
"Hey! Don't forget about that thing," Inosuke bellowed. "It's coming back."
Naruto turned. The giant snowflake was returning from the trees, hovering even higher now.
Then, an instant later, another snowflake began to form, pulling moisture from the mist to create something identical to the first one.
The fog began to lessen, and Naruto could see the field even more clearly now.
A realization came to him in that moment. This mist, he mused. A demon was using it to fuel these ice-creatures. With so much free moisture in the air, creating them was far easier, supplying their enemies with a great number of troops.
Truly, it was the perfect combination of abilities. An annoying combination at that. That explained how the creatures seemed to appear from thin air.
Finally, another floating creature of ice materialized, making them three in total. As more moister was pulled, the mist around them continued to dwindle.
"The mist…" Mitsuri whispered.
"Yeah," Naruto noted. "A demon must be using it to create all these creatures. But the source isn't infinite by the looks it. The more of those things they create, the less mist there is to use."
Mitsuri nodded, pink braids falling over powerful shoulders. Even draped in her haori, Naruto could tell she was physically strong. It was evident in her stance, in the way she held herself. If swinging that whip-sword was any indication, she'd be perfect for taking these creatures down.
The first snowflake started to spin again, releasing a dull humming sound as it ascended. Now, it was over one hundred meters in the air. Normally, he wouldn't have been able to peer that far ahead, but since the mist had been cleared, Naruto could almost see a subtle glow above—the moon, once hidden behind a thick blanket of fog.
Suddenly, the snowflake let fly a hail of bullets. They descended in a flash, a shower of death, unrelenting and brutal.
Naruto flew through hand seals. Tiger - Ox - Dog - Rabbit - Snake, in that order. His fingers were a blur; his chakra spiked as he breathed out a gust of wind so great Mitsuri staggered back in alarm, her hair billowing behind her, mouth opening soundlessly.
Hurricane force winds burst forward, intercepting the hail of bullets, shattering them upon contact, then pushing the giant snowflake away once again, causing it to expend its bullets, shooting them off course.
The others two snowflakes began spinning at once, gathering gallons upon gallons of moisture from the air in preparation for another attack—this one more deadly than the last.
His technique ending, Naruto turned to Mitsuri.
She stood there, wide-eyed, speechless.
"How did you…?"
Naruto shook his head. "Never mind that for now. We need to move. And fast." He turned to the spinning snowflakes in the sky, which were high, much higher than ever now, staying out of range of normal Demon Slayers. "How far does that sword of yours reach?"
"P-pretty far," she began, still mystified by his earlier display. "I haven't measured, but I'd say at least five meters? Further when striking the air."
"That'll be enough," Naruto affirmed, looking ahead.
"But what're we going to do?" Mitsuri asked. She'd moved to stand beside him now.
"No time to explain. Just follow my lead." He glanced at Inosuke. "Keep those Demon Slayers safe, Inosuke. I'm counting on you."
The boy stiffened at those words, tilting his head, as though confused, unused to such words. Then he bellowed, jets of steam shooting from his boar-mask's nostrils. He grabbed an injured Demon Slayer's sword, then another's, until he had two nichirin blades at the ready.
"Don't tell me what to do!" Inosuke howled, then got into a stance of his own.
"Let's go." Naruto gently placed the scroll around his shoulder on the ground. "Keep up, Mitsuri."
She nodded.
"Right."
…
He. Was. Fast.
Mitsuri was caught off guard. The blond shot forward, already several feet in front of her.
Wind howled violently as they ran, her hair swaying wildly. Alarmed, she took in a sharp breath, filling her lungs, then her body, with life-giving oxygen, strengthening already powerful muscles. Thick veins and arteries bulged along her body—along her legs, her arms, even her face and neck, energized blood circulating through ever capillary, through every organ of her being. Dirt rose and fell, her feet destroying the ground beneath her, punching deep holes into the dirt.
Only then could she finally keep pace with him.
Naruto said nothing. Neither did she. And she understood. She could now see why Shinobu had mentioned him, could truly accept that he was no ordinary civilian in need of protection.
With this realization, she focused on one thing.
Their enemies.
Naruto pulled out two kunai—the same weapons Tengen used—and glanced at her, motioned to the first snowflake above them, which they were now approaching at breakneck speed.
It took notice of them—instantly. So did the others.
Now finishing their spin-cycle, now finished collecting enough moisture from the air, the bullets began to rain.
Thousands of them fell, rods of indiscriminate death, and Mitsuri drew her sword.
Naruto saw them coming as well, but he was unfazed. So, she faced forward and swung her blade, no longer concerned for his safety.
Her sword cracked the air with a sonic boom, intercepting ten bullets off the bat, shattering them. It extended many feet in front of her, a metallic nichirin-snake flowing with the sun's power. Naruto, using both kunai, destroyed dozens of icicle-bullets in an instant, the air spraying with shards of freezing ice.
She pulled her sword back, then struck anew. This time, without stopping. Her blade became a blur, then her arm did as well, almost invisible as she whipped it through space.
Together, they plowed through a wall of bullets, spinning and flipping around each other like two acrobats that had trained together for years.
In moments, they were in sync. They'd found a rhythm. She swung her sword over three hundred times in thirty seconds, destroying all that lay before them.
Mitsuri glanced at Naruto. He was smiling. He marveled at her technique, at her ability with the sword, and she felt excitement, a certain thrill, swell in her chest.
Finally, the barrage ended. They were just below the first snowflake now.
"Mitsuri!" Naruto yelled above the howling wind. "Your hand. Give me your hand."
She didn't hesitate, extending her free arm to him as they ran, their feet rising and falling in unison.
He grabbed her hand, his grip like a vice. Then she felt her body begin to spin. She was lifted from the ground, and Naruto spun her wildly. Her stomach lurched, a yelp rising from her lips.
Naruto let go, throwing her into the sky.
Eyes watering against the wind, she soared through the air. Mitsuri was a bullet, tearing upward, until she was high enough, until she was over three hundred feet in the air, face-to-face with the first snowflake.
Third Form: Catlove Shower.
Mitsuri swung her sword downward, cutting the creature cleanly in half. Before it even began to slide apart, her whip-sword sliced it twenty more times, turning it into fine particles of ice.
One down, she thought.
Now falling, she turned, finding Naruto had jumped up to meet her.
She laughed. "Hey!"
"Hey!" Naruto grinned. "Up for one more ride?"
"You bet."
Mitsuri stretched out her arm, and he took it again, and like last time, he spun her, once, twice, three times, then launched her to the nearest snowflake. Hands at her sides, she glided forward, punching through air. Before the ice-creature could gather enough moisture for another attack, she was upon it, slicing it apart with a precise set of strikes.
Two down, Mitsuri thought.
She descended, fell from above, eyes scanning her surroundings for the final snowflake.
Landing with a thud, Mitsuri turned to see Naruto had already destroyed the last one—she didn't know how he did it, perhaps by using the wind again—but he was gliding down now, wind swirling around him, until he hit the ground like she had, albeit much gentler.
Mitsuri ran to him, giddy with excitement.
She stretched out her palm, and he clapped her hand with his own.
"That was incredible, Mitsuri!" Naruto exclaimed. "I knew the Hashira were amazing, but that was something else. I didn't even need to tell you what I was going to do, yet you followed my crazy idea flawlessly."
She beamed happily. "Me? Incredible?" She held her arms up and apart, gesturing wildly. "What about you? What was that just now? I've never seen anyone do something so amazing—with the wind, and then the throwing. Gah! It was awesome. You were awesome."
He rubbed his hair sheepishly, and she moved closer, headed tilted and eyes narrowing.
"Say…" Mitsuri began. "You're not a demon, are you?"
"Nope," he answered frankly.
She nodded.
"Okay! Then there's nothing to worry about."
"You believe me?" asked the blond.
She clasped both hands behind her back. "Of course, I do. Why would a demon fight against their own kind? And why would Shinobu hold you in such high regard? It wouldn't make sense that you're a demon."
"You'd be surprised," Naruto answered. "Demons fighting against demons might be more common than you think. Regardless, thanks for believing me. That'll make you the first Demon Slayer that did, after seeing my… abilities."
"How were you doing that anyway?" Mitsuri asked. Genuinely curious, she hoped she wasn't prying by asking. "S-sorry, you don't have to tell me if it's such a—"
"It's fine." Naruto smiled again. Mitsuri realized she liked that smile of his. It was nice and pleasant and inviting. They began walking back to the settlement of Demon Slayers across the field as he explained: "Think of it as a breathing form. But instead of me using the air outside to strengthen my muscles and fuel my techniques, I use the energy already in my body when I fight. Almost the opposite of what you do. Does that make sense?"
Mitsuri nodded slowly, then blushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Sort of?" she shrugged, laughing nervously. "I don't know."
Naruto laughed as well. "Don't worry. The concept can be a bit complicated to grasp, even for me sometimes."
While they walked, Mitsuri noticed that the mist had yet to return. She could see much better. She was no longer plagued by unsavory images. She scanned the field with sharp eyes. What was so pervasive, so annoying, had seemingly been used up by those snowflake creatures. At least, in their immediate area.
So, the demon causing this had a hard limit. They could not produce mist indefinitely. Likewise, the one responsible for using ice, while strengthened by the mist, was also a detriment to the one creating it.
"How long have you been on the mountain?" inquired Naruto.
"Maybe four hours? Five at most," she began, then admitted, "The mist. It got to me, sadly, tricked me into running around attacking those ice-creatures, or even attacking nothing at all. I'm embarrassed to say that I wasted too much time."
"With the mist messing with our senses, who knows how much time has actually passed?" Naruto considered. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Anyone could be fooled, even someone strong. It wasn't a physical battle. Only a mental one."
"Yeah…" Mitsuri replied softly. She was still shaken by the things she'd seen. Horrible, horrible depictions of her loved ones—especially of her five younger siblings. "If only I hadn't been separated from Giyu, Kanao, and Shinobu, maybe we could have done something more substantial together."
"So Shinobu's here, then," Naruto whispered. A spark of concern seemed to run through him, but left as soon it came. He looked up, and she followed his gaze. "For all we know, it could be nearing sunrise. This mist is still too thick for us to see the sky, but I have a feeling that the demons responsible are going to make a major move before daybreak. Especially now that the fog is slowly disappearing."
Mitsuri frowned at the thought. He was right, though. All this time, the demons had been toying with them, sending them on a wild chase, fighting creatures of ice, picking them off slowly, without revealing their true motives.
She was worried for her comrades. After all, Mitsuri had been less susceptible to the fog once realizing she could distort the images by rapidly swinging her whip-sword through the air. But what about Kanao? What about Shinobu? Giyu, too. What about all the other Demon Slayers trapped here?
Her heart ached with concern. It was a miracle that she found this small group of survivors in the first place.
She imagined a few other groups existed on this mountain as well.
"Say," Naruto began. "Did someone named Muichiro Tokito happened to come with you?"
"Muichiro?" she glanced at him. "No, he's not here. Why do you ask?"
He waved her question off. "Ah, personal reasons." At the same time, relief made his shoulders sag slightly.
Now curious, Mitsuri wondered what his relationship with Muichiro was. But she refrained from asking, as this was hardly the time to do so.
Instead, she thought of what should come next. She wasn't a great strategist like Shinobu, or as quick witted as Giyu, yet she wracked her mind incessantly, wondering if she ought to leave this small group behind in search of the demons responsible.
Mitsuri shook her head. No, she couldn't do that. Not when they were so injured.
But then, what options did she have here?
Just sit and wait?
It wasn't like she could carry all these people, could she?
She was strong, but not that strong.
When they finally arrived, the boar boy—Inosuke was his name, she recalled—stood there, frozen like a statue, watching both her and Naruto in awed silence. Shocked by their recent battle, maybe.
Naruto patted him on the head with a smile.
"You did well," he praised, and the boy nodded slowly, as if his whole perception of the world and his standing within it had suddenly changed. "Mitsuri, are you trained in field medicine by chance?"
She nodded hesitantly. "Somewhat. I know a thing or two about treating injured people. Not as much as Shinobu though…"
"That's fine," he said. "Basic knowledge is all you need."
She watched as Naruto stooped down and unraveled the strange scroll he'd been carrying earlier. Within were even stranger symbols, a language completely foreign to her. He placed a palm on the paper, focusing. A blue glow flashed for an instant, then various tools, bandages, antiseptic, sutures, and other medical equipment, materialized in a puff of smoke.
Mitsuri watched, eyes growing wide.
Even the Demon Slayers behind her, injured as they were, shrunk back in alarm. She could tell what was going on their heads without even hearing them say it.
They were thinking Naruto was some kind of demon.
However, no one tried anything impulsive—probably because Mitsuri was present.
Despite her surprise at his display, she did not feel Naruto posed any danger to them. Not even the slightest bit, even when factoring his Hashira-level skill and demon-like abilities.
He'd proven himself an ally by not only fighting with Shinobu in Tokyo, but by entering into this absurd situation, and for helping these scared, injured Demon Slayers without worrying how they perceived him.
Mitsuri smiled to herself and wondered if she could be friends with Naruto.
She took a knee by his side, then asked, "How can I help?"
For the next half hour, or what she assumed was a half-hour, Mitsuri was his assistant. She was an assistant to someone who's skill in medicine was just was amazing as Shinobu's. Maybe even more so, for he mended wounds in a manner that seemed outright impossible. While watching him work, she could hardly believe her eyes. He sutured lacerations with incredible precision, preforming, in his own words, "first-aid."
This was first-aid?
She'd thought he was joking.
While she handed him the appropriate supplies, or helped clean the wounds of their current patient, he told her of two people, named Sakura and Tsunade, who were even better than him.
Mitsuri found that thought incredible.
There were ten injured Demon Slayers in total. Naruto saw each of them.
Mitsuri found that, as they worked, her mind was much clearer. The panic and concern she had for how she would complete this mission had faded. If anything, she realized that what they did now, in the form of protecting and treating her subordinates, was the very essence of being a Hashira.
Punching and kicking and slashing was not the only thing she could contribute to the corps.
Moments like this, seeing the relief in the eyes of scared Demon Slayers, talking to them, soothing their fears, felt just as fulfilling as destroying those floating snowflakes.
"Alright, Mina, we're finished," Naruto said, suturing their last patient's fingers—which had barely been hanging by the bones when they first started the treatment. "With rest and medication, you won't lose those fingers."
Mina, a brown-hair young woman, wiped tears from her eyes. "Thank you."
Mitsuri rubbed her back comfortingly. Naruto stood to rinse his hands with water and alcohol, which he'd also packed in his odd scroll. She cleaned the blood from her hands as well.
With that done, they stood side-by-side and looked at the forest ahead, now less blanketed by mist.
"This can't go on any longer," Naruto stated. He crossed his arms, peering ahead into the forest. "I'm going to end it."
Mitsuri frowned. "Alone? But you can't. It's our responsibility, not your—"
Inosuke shoved his way between them, holding two stolen nichirin blades in his hands.
"No, I'm going to put a stop to this!" he hollered, his confidence somehow renewed. "I'm tired of all this damn mist." He looked up at them. "Blondie, Pinky, where to? What's the plan?"
Mitsuri and Naruto shared a glanced, amused despite the situation.
Inosuke's soo cute, and his mask, while scary, is also kind of cute? she suddenly thought.
Mitsuri quickly shook her head, focusing, fighting her tendency to latch unto unimportant things.
Focus, Mitsuri. Focus. We need a plan, something that'll work for sure. You can't let Naruto, who's not even a Demon Slayer, be burdened with our problems.
In the end, however, she did not get an opportunity to formulate a plan.
Because all of the mist started to retreat, right then and there.
It happened suddenly, without warning, as if a great hand had swept the clouds of white back.
Mitsuri stiffened. A heavy chill crawled down her spine, freezing her in place.
Someone emerged from the forest. A single figure. Male. Average height. But composed of pure muscle.
He walked slowly, ignoring everything else in the world—all except for one person.
Naruto.
The demon, with markings, tattoos, all over his body, approached, stepping through the field without blinking, without looking away from the person standing next to her.
Mitsuri glanced at Naruto, then at the demon, then at Naruto again.
"So, he's not dead," the blond said. He looked on curiously.
And Mitsuri wonder why.
After all, based on the words etched into this demon's eyes, the reality of their situation just became bleaker.
"Upper Moon Three…" Mitsuri whispered.
…
Susamaru grunted.
A woman landed on her from above, and they all fell to the ground, a mess of tangled limbs and startled yelps.
She groaned, more so in annoyance than pain, wondering who had tried such a ridiculous stunt. It didn't feel like a demon, but she still readied herself in case of an attack.
"What the hell are you thinking?" Susamaru blurted, only to come face-to-face with the familiar face of Shinobu Kocho.
The Insect Hashira blinked, staring at her. She looked shocked. For the first time since meeting her, Susamaru witnessed this woman in a state of genuine surprise—not that fake persona she always seemed to put on. No, she was exposed here, completely at a loss as they both locked eyes, purple orbs against amber pools.
"It's you," whispered Shinobu.
Susamaru smirked, strangely enjoying this side of Shinobu.
"Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"
"Why are you here?" asked the woman, then she glanced to the side—where an unconscious male Demon Slayer lay, bandaged and unmoving. "And who's that?"
Susamaru rubbed at her untamed hair. She really needed a haircut.
"That is the idiot who tried to run into the mist, even when we had a good system going," she murmured. "Me, being a bigger idiot, went after him, even when Naruto wanted me to stay put."
Susamaru cursed her impulsivity, her stupidity in that moment. The mist was still here, still as potent as ever. Sure, Naruto's clone kept it at bay with a constant wind-shield spanning twenty meters, but outside of that sphere was nothing except a cloud of white.
She sighed.
Chasing after this Demon Slayer, who had gotten so sick of the mountain that he decided to make a desperate run for it, had caused her to be separated from Naruto's clone.
She'd caught him, yes, but had been ensnared by confusing mirages in the process, mirages that twisted the terrain, making it impossible to find her way back to them. And she doubted Naruto's clone would come looking for her, either. One, because he had his hands full, protecting so many people, and two, because Naruto believed she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
Even then, this separation presented the perfect opportunity.
The opportunity to confront an Upper Moon alone.
"So, Naruto's here then…" Shinobu whispered.
Susamaru nodded. "Yeah."
A smile bloomed on Shinobu's face. Susamaru watched her closely. As far as she could tell, this one was a genuine smile too.
She's changed, Susamaru thought.
That wasn't a bad thing, though. Just surprising.
"If you're wondering, the guy is fine." She pointed at the unmoving Demon Slayer. "I knocked him out. He was going to get himself killed if I hadn't."
Shinobu nodded, then finally stood. Susamaru did as well. She picked up her "companion," carrying him piggyback. Still unconscious, the young man felt limp, but his breathing was soft and unlabored. Takeuchi was his name, if Susamaru remembered correctly. He had been jumpy since she and Naruto first arrived, eyes darting about at every little sound, every small shift of the mist, until he'd finally lost it.
Susamaru didn't blame him. Takeuchi was an idiot, yes, but he was a traumatized idiot. Being trapped here for a week sounded like a nightmare, even after help had arrived.
He must have finally broken, finally buckled under the stress.
"Why did you run away?"
Susamaru stiffened, turning to her left. That voice. It wasn't Shinobu's. It wasn't Takeuchi's either.
It was…
She shuddered, tried to ignore the three figures standing beside her, whispering to her.
"W-where to?" Susamaru asked, voice breaking just a bit. She hoped Shinobu didn't hear it, but by the knowing look the Hashira was giving her, Susamaru knew she could tell.
The mirages were back. For both of them.
"I don't really know," said Shinobu, thoughtful. "But I'm after the demon responsible for this mist. Is it possible for you to locate them, by chance?"
Shifting Takeuchi on her back, Susamaru nodded slowly. "Yes and no. I can sense demons that are nearby, sure, but not distinctly enough to tell the difference between them. If we find someone, we can't be certain it'll be the one causing the mist."
"That's good enough." Shinobu glanced her way. "Are you up for hunting more of your kind?"
Susamaru nodded firmly. "As long as it means less people being hurt, absolutely."
"Then I trust you'll have my back when we encounter a demon?" Shinobu inquired.
"Obviously," Susamaru responded, rolling her eyes in a playful manner. "A friend of Naruto's is a friend of mine."
"Ah, so we're friends now," Shinobu teased, smirking. "How surprising."
Susamaru grumbled. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"Fine then, friend." Her companion continued to look amused. "Where do you suggest we go first?"
"It depends," Susamaru said. Still holding Takeuchi, she shut her eyes and focused, tried to spread out her senses. In a way, all demons were connected, joined together by that man. Save for Tamayo and Yushiro, who had completely severed their ties with Muzan over hundreds of years, they were all linked to him.
Her connection to Muzan, though more blurred, was clearly present, allowing her to locate the presence of his cells, especially when close enough to a particularly powerful demon.
And they were close. Very close to one.
"Depends on what?" asked Shinobu.
"If you're ready to fight with your life on the line," Susamaru said, more serious than before.
Shinobu didn't bat an eye.
"Lead the way. We're putting a stop to this madness."
Susamaru nodded. She wasn't afraid. She was stronger now. She had a powerful Demon Slayer by her side.
If she was going to confront Upper Moon Two, then now was the time.
I'm sorry, Naruto, she thought. For not telling you... everything.
…
Upper Moon Three walked across the field.
Instinctively, Naruto placed a hand on Inosuke's shoulder. He gently pushed the teen behind him. All this, in a protective manner. At first, he expected Inosuke to protest, to squirm in defiance, maybe even raise his voice, but a newfound calm had descended on the youth, as if now, finally, he understood his place in this vast, vast world of monsters.
Inosuke wasn't weak. Not even close. But he was still far from the strongest. So, he acquiesced, allowing someone to stand at the forefront for a change. Because the air had shifted. A sudden pressure filled the atmosphere. Naruto sensed it first, yet it seemed as though everyone else could feel it as well.
Naruto assumed he'd killed this demon hours ago with a sage-enhanced rasengan. However, he'd somehow survived.
Probably by escaping before his head was engulfed, Naruto thought.
Upper Moon Three paused thirty meters away. Naruto prepared for anything, for any strange blood demon art he might possess. Mitsuri stiffened as well, reaching for her whip-sword.
The demon began to shake, to shudder, his mouth watering. He stared at Naruto directly, sheer bloodlust on his tattooed features.
As expected, Naruto's blood had already begun to take effect. Which would lead to another instance of a demon attacking him mindlessly, driven to a rage by an unquenchable desire for his flesh.
Tsuki and Nezuko had just been an anomaly, then, Naruto thought. Resisting his blood's affects was still a rare occurrence.
But wait.
Still shivering, still ensnared by the scent of his blood, Upper Moon Three plunged a fist into his skull, into his very brain. Mitsuri turned green, unnerved by the gruesome display. He reached deep, forearm sinking into his cerebrum. He crushed something deep within his frontal lobe, alerting it, reshaping his brain matter, until…
Until he stopped shaking, stopped drooling. By sheer willpower and a bit of creativity, he'd momentarily suppressed his desire for Naruto's blood—when most other demons would have done nothing but reveled in the feeling, in the pleasure of bloodlust.
He's insane, Naruto thought, but an unexpected feeling of respect entered his mind.
"What's he doing?" whispered Mitsuri. A bead of sweat trickled down her brow; her hands quivered, the pressure of this encounter testing her confidence. She glanced behind her, at all the people still injured, doubting her ability to protect them from harm.
As expected, she worried about others. Not even herself. Naruto smiled at that.
"He's 'clearing' his mind of anything that might distract him," he speculated.
Mitsuri unsheathed her sword, getting into a unique stance.
"Distract him? Distract him from what?" she asked hastily.
"From anything that might hinder him from giving it his all against me."
Mitsuri's eyes grew wide.
"I don't understand."
It was clear as day, to Naruto at least. After all, Upper Moon Three's gaze hadn't left him. Not once since he emerged from the mist. He didn't even pay the people behind them any mind, people that were easy targets if he wished to attack.
No. He was after one thing, and one thing alone.
"He's here for a rematch."
Then, Upper Moon Three disappeared.
A cloud of dust was left in his wake.
He cleared the distance between himself and Naruto in a blink.
Naruto shot forward to meet him halfway, Mitsuri calling out his name in alarm.
Crack!
Naruto's fist met Upper Moon Three's fist. A shockwave of air erupted, propagating outward with such force that it knocked Inosuke and the other Demon Slayers to the ground. Mitsuri held fast, withstanding the sudden pressure wave, even as it reached multiple trees at the edge of the field, rattling them with shocking intensity.
Knuckle against knuckle, in an oddly nostalgic fist bump, Naruto locked eyes with Upper Moon Three.
And the demon smiled. A huge grin spread across his face. His features, youthful as a young man's, displayed nothing but pure, unbridled joy.
A second passed, then he leapt several feet away from Naruto, landing with the grace of a seasoned acrobat.
Naruto glanced at his fist.
The feeling he'd gotten when they clashed was different, different from any other demon he'd ever fought.
"My name is Akaza," he introduced without hesitation. "What is yours?"
…
The air grew colder, more chilling.
And as they moved forward, tracking the demon closest to them, Susamaru finally let herself relive those memories. Those awful, painful memories of her youth—before she'd been turned into a demon.
The moments were still fractured, still incomplete, yet she forced the images to her mind.
She saw a great temple. It was grand, indescribable, seemingly crafted by the hands of a god. There was a beautiful garden here, kept clean by daily maintenance.
Surrounded by high walls made of iron, the grounds were almost inaccessible, hidden from prying eyes or curious onlookers.
A glistening, silver stream flowed through the main building, glinting beneath a moonlit sky. But instead of moving, instead of twisting or turning like a normal body of water would, the gentle liquid was frozen solid.
It had always been frozen, as long as she could remember.
The temple was surrounded by many houses. These were smaller habitations where specially handpicked followers would stay, living close to their glorious Deity.
This was the Paradise Faith Cult.
She'd been born into a religious group that worshiped a demon, disguised as a god.
"You did this to us," her mother whispered.
"Why did you run away?" her father hissed.
"We died because you ran away!" her sister cried.
Susamaru looked forward, eyes devoid of emotion. She shoved any ounce of feeling aside. She channeled all her focus ahead.
Shinobu was the same. She didn't speak, but Susamaru could tell she was also being tormented by her own personal demons.
The mist created an image, one unique to each of them. Though Susamaru saw a silhouette following Shinobu, she could not see or hear what they said—since your own mind filled in the blanks. But judging by the calm Hashira's clenched fists, it must have been a particularly torturous mirage.
Using one arm to support Takeuchi, Susamaru reached out, searching for Shinobu's hand in the mist.
The smaller woman glanced up, not quite shocked, but still genuinely surprised.
Susamaru blushed, embarrassed. "Just so we don't get separated by the mist."
Expecting to be teased, she braced for a taunt from the Hashira.
But none came.
Instead, Shinobu reached out and held her hand.
"Yes, of course," Shinobu whispered. She smiled softly, almost thankfully.
Neither of them mentioned it, but having someone to lean on through the mist's horrible images was a blessing.
…
Every sentient creature possessed a Battle Spirit.
Even babies, newly brought into this world, leaked it like steam rising from a boiling pot of water.
The vast majority of people displayed small amounts of this energy. Minuscule amounts. Because the average person was weak. Unskilled. Untrained.
Of course, the stronger one became, the more powerful their Battle Spirit grew. It was a linear growth, correlating with one's muscularity, conditioning, physical gifts, and most importantly, their will.
Akaza could glimpse this Battle Spirt. He could see it as clearly as one saw the full moon on a cloudless night sky. Such was the sharpness of his gaze.
He looked forward, golden eyes narrowing. The ten Demon Slayers cowering on the ground showed poor, almost nonexistent spirit. He hardly saw it radiating from their bodies—it was that pitiful.
The boy wearing a boar mask was better, though. His Battle Spirit, though crude, was more refined than the other ten, with potential still left to be tapped.
The woman with pink hair was second best. Waves of coral-colored energy rose from her, whipping about, akin to flames ruffled by a gentle wind. She was a Hashira. He could tell with a single glance. She was strong, her body far removed from the normal populace. Surprising still, was the fact that she had yet to reach her peak. Given a few more years, she would be even more powerful.
Then, there was him.
In his one-hundred thirty-three years of life, Akaza had never seen a human quite like this. One with such splendid Battle Spirit.
Akaza stared, appraising him.
It seemed as though he had two separate Battle Spirits. One blue. The other, red.
The blond man was on fire, engulfed by an absurd amount of energy. While the woman was a roaring flame, he was a raging forest fire, surging, crashing, unbound by human limitations.
Akaza looked up, stunned.
Not only that, but his energy was rising. Risinghigh into the sky, where it seemed to shoot off into the distance, filling the night sky—like an aurora borealis. Like a great amount of his energy was being channeled elsewhere, somewhere far, far away.
Wakuraba had cleared the mist in this area, so the moon was more visible, and Akaza could see the extent of this energy, unhindered.
The blond man had refined himself to the utmost limit, reaching heights no human should be able to attain.
Chills engulfed him. Chills of awe. Chills of anticipation.
Finally, he would once again battle this monster that should not exist, this anomaly among the human race.
"My name is Akaza," he introduced. "What is yours?"
Their initial clash had shattered every bone in Akaza's arm. It had healed in moments, of course, but the sheer force contained in those fists was splendid.
"Naruto Uzumaki," the blond answered. He'd moved closer, just to keep those behind him out of the line of fire. "I'm surprised you're still alive."
"As am I." Akaza grinned. "I don't know what trick you pulled back there, but I guarantee it won't work a second time."
"So then, you're here to fight," Naruto stated.
"Of course," he said, glancing past him. "I don't care for those weaklings. I won't lay a finger on them if you agree to a rematch."
"Are you the one controlling the mist, or are you creating the ice?" Naruto questioned, taking another step forward. "If you're either of them, one, you're a total piece of shit. And two, kindly end it."
Akaza laughed. "Unfortunately, I'm not the one controlling the mist or the ice. I do agree, though. At least with one of your points. The one creating the ice is a piece of shit."
That surprised the blond, and Akaza's smile broadened.
"Honestly, I'm not concerned about what's going on this mountain," Akaza admitted. "I only want to fight the strong, to test my skill against them, to reach greater and greater heights."
Naruto relaxed slightly, a perplexed, yet somewhat curious look crossing his features.
"So, if I fight you, no matter the outcome, you'll leave everyone behind me alone?"
Akaza nodded. "No matter the outcome of this battle, I will not lay a hand on the people behind you."
"Do you swear it?" Naruto asked.
For some reason, Akaza felt like this man was testing him, trying to discern something about him.
"I swear it," he answered simply. "No harm will come to them."
Naruto nodded slowly, then said, "You're very strange. I've never met a demon who—"
An icy gale suddenly blew through the field, cutting him short.
Suddenly, vast swathes of mist retreated, sucked deep into the forest.
Moments later, a great army of ice-creatures began to emerge from the trees.
Akaza seethed, unbridled wrath rising from the depths of his soul. There were at least a hundred of them, sculpted to appear like samurai. They stood higher than Doma's typical creatures, many of them fifteen feet tall, wielding a variety of weapons.
"No!" Akaza growled. "I told you not to interfere!"
Doma had used up most of the mist on the mountain to do this. Akaza could tell, judging by the clearing skies above them. Light shined down from above, brighter than ever before. The full moon was displayed in all its splendor, revealing the sheer number of constructs Upper Two had created.
Without preamble, the creatures began to charge, a wave of ice ready to smash the remaining Demon Slayers into oblivion.
Naruto sprang into action. The pink-haired Hashira did as well. So did the boar-boy. They began hacking away, destroying the constructs as best they could, overtaken by the sudden charge.
"Play time is over, Lord Akaza," said a voice as the army of ice creatures flooded the field.
He looked down, teeth gritted. A miniature clone of Doma, completely made of ice, stood just below him, barely reaching his knees.
"Nakime will be transporting us soon—before the sun rises," the clone announced. "We've captured enough. We've killed enough of them. Now, it's time to go out with a bang, maybe even snag the Hashira and that man before we leave."
Fists clenching so hard that blood fell, Akaza hissed, "I told you not to interfere. This is my battle, my victory to earn. Not yours to trample."
"Oh, Lord Akaza, you can be too serious sometimes~"
In a split second, he brought his fist down on the clone, destroying it. The ground cratered, shards of ice misting the air.
Then, Akaza did something unthinkable—even to himself.
He leapt into the fray.
…
Air Type.
Akaza punched twenty times, generating supersonic missiles of air that crashed into numerous ice-creatures. They shattered to pieces. Then, sprinting forward, he unleashed a flurry of techniques that destroyed five more of Doma's soldiers.
Ahead, Naruto took note of this, eyes growing wide with shock. The blond fended off five soldiers as well with a technique—blades of wind—similar to Akaza's own air type.
The field devolved into utter chaos.
In the heat of battle, they ended up near each other, back-to-back, even.
"What the hell are you doing?" asked Naruto as he shattered an ice-solider with a single kick.
Replicating his kick, Akaza destroyed another one.
"Defending my word, my agreement with you." He looked up. "I will accept no advantage!"
He screamed those words—so that Doma could hear it. So that all, even Master Muzan, could bear witness to his unwavering resolve. Because his purpose, his reason for fighting, for living, was epitomized in this moment.
"To reach greater heights, to achieve strength I was not aware I had. That is why I continue to exist. That is why I fight," he avowed. "No one will sully this victory. Not even a member of the Twelve."
And Naruto chuckled.
"You really are crazy."
Seconds passed. Together, they laid waste to most of Doma's creatures. Shards of ice swirled around them. Remnants of a once great army, reduced to mere particles.
What was meant to be a brutal, final assault was rendered useless as both he and Naruto halted the wave.
The pink-haired Demon Slayer handled the few remaining creatures. She panted, slightly wounded by some of their bladed weapons. It made sense though. Alone, she was strong. But protecting ten others, she'd taken some blows, enough that she wouldn't interfere with the coming battle.
Once the sounds of fighting died down, all was silent.
A tense moment washed over them.
Every Demon Slayer watched with unease, confusion, or apprehension, wondering what had just happened, and why he'd chosen to fight against his own ally.
Akaza ignored them, turned to Naruto. They were feet apart now, eyes locked in silent agreement.
The blond slid into an unfamiliar stance, Battle Spirit roaring. A portion of his energy, which was still being pulled into the sky, suddenly returned to him, ready to be used.
His energy spiked one last time, striking Akaza full force. He shivered, shaking. It was like being in the midst of a storm, wearing nothing, pelted by sharp rain and heavy hail.
Such was the feeling of his Battle Spirit.
Small rocks and pebbles rose from the ground, floating, lifted by the surging power within Naruto.
"Yes. Yes! Show me the limits of humanity, Naruto!"
Akaza entered his own stance as well, a staple of the Soryu Style.
"Technique Development," Akaza stated, activating his Blood Demon Art. He slammed his foot into the ground, pulled his left fist inward, then extended his right palm outward, grinning madly. "Destructive Death: Compass Needle."
A snowflake pattern spread out beneath him, glowing brightly, brighter than the moon's overpowering light.
Akaza didn't waste another moment. He blurred forward, disappearing from sight.
Once again, Naruto matched him, in speed, in strength, meeting half-way.
They clashed.
Fist against fist, like before. The force was immense, rattling him to the bone.
Then, a lightning-quick, Battle Spirit-enhanced punch sent Akaza flying into the forest behind, a cloud of debris left in his wake.
…
Akaza soared away, far away, felling four giant trees in the process.
Naruto breathed out, prepared to go after the Upper Moon.
Mitsuri stopped him then, strong hands wrapping around his arm. He turned to her, frowning in concern as he noticed the cut on her shoulder. It wasn't life threatening by his estimation, but still deep enough to warrant treatment.
She'd done so well, first keeping her wits in the mist, then finding and protecting her subordinates from those floating, unreachable snowflake-creatures, then defending them from a final, chaotic wave of ice-soldiers.
"You don't have to do this alone," Mitsuri said. "I can help you fight. You're strong. I can see that. But you're a not Demon Slayer. This isn't your burden to carry. I… I can't have you risking your life for something you never trained for."
She was right, in a way. Now that Naruto knew for certain Muichiro wasn't on the mountain, he didn't have a strong reason to be here.
However…
He glanced at the frightened Demon Slayers, at Inosuke, at the people who had been tormented by this ordeal on Mount Natagumo.
"I don't have to be a Demon Slayer to help those in need," Naruto replied softly.
Mitsuri looked down. "I know…"
"You can join me if you want—I won't stop you. However, look at your colleagues. The mist is clearing, but danger might still lurk on this mountain. They need you. They need your protection. Many of them are injured, despite my first-aid treatment." Naruto had returned to his scroll, Mitsuri following. "According to Akaza, there are at least two more demons here, one controlling the ice, and one controlling the mist. Following me, splitting your focus, might not be the wisest decision right now."
She bit her lip, but nodded.
"You'll be fine?"
"Of course." He grinned. "Shinobu didn't tell you how I beat the hell out of three Lower Moons?"
Mitsuri didn't seem surprised. "She hinted at it."
"Then trust me," Naruto implored. "There's more to these demons' plans than we're seeing. I heard one of the ice-creatures mention capturing Demon Slayers. Something else is going on here."
She glanced behind her, at her weaker colleagues, deciding.
"I… I have to stay. For them. As their superior. To protect them."
"Yeah," he agreed, grinning. "I'm not a Demon Slayer, so that rule doesn't apply to me."
She smiled. "Do you have a plan to deal with Upper Moon Three?"
"Sort of." He patted the hostler attached to his pants. "I can't use a nichirin blade, so I gotta be more creative."
Mitsuri looked confused, yet didn't question him on the matter.
"Inosuke," Naruto called. He hoisted his scroll and handed it to the boar-boy, who had been awfully quiet. "Hold this for me until we meet again. I'm counting on you."
Inosuke nodded slowly, then took the scroll, almost reverently.
"And our fight?" asked the teen.
Naruto patted him on the head. "After we get off this mountain, after you recover, we'll fight."
Inosuke grunted.
Mitsuri placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze.
Naruto turned, then broke into a sprint, plunging into the forest.
You're going to try and save him?
I don't know, Naruto thought.
In Caring Arms
…
..
.
Akaza was just ahead, walking, then running to him with an excited smile.
Naruto ran toward him, mind focused, eyes darting about, expectant of any peculiar blood demon art.
The forest blurred as he leapt forward, the distance between them slowly, slowly shrinking.
Time appeared to move at a sedated pace, compressing down to mere moments. Moments where motion was so clear, so crisp, it almost seemed scripted by the universe itself, by some outside force beyond his comprehension.
Akaza, by all accounts, was moving fast. To a normal person, he would be imperceptible. But to Naruto, he was moving almost normally. He could see Akaza drawing near, could see the subtle shifts in the demon's posture as he prepared to strike.
Inches away from his opponent, Naruto let go, let his body take over.
Nothing else existed. Only him and this odd, yet intriguing demon.
It began.
Naruto launched a kick—which Akaza blocked, forearm coming to his face, blunting the impact.
Naruto threw a punch, and Akaza ducked, his body bending impossibly to the ground.
Then, springing upward, Akaza's fist came careening toward Naruto's face. He deflected the blow with a swift movement of his palm. A missile of air erupted from Akaza's clenched hand, crashing through the thick trunks of three trees. Splinters of wood exploded outward, pelting them as dust rose.
"Spectacular," said the demon.
Now up close, they exchanged a shower of blows. Their arms blurred. Their fists were distorted by sheer movement speed alone. Each attack was not random, either. They were purposeful, aimed with the intent to maim, destroy muscle, and shatter bone.
Naruto was perturbed, keeping his stance as he continued to send punch after punch.
In seconds, two hundred precise strikes were thrown by both of them. All attacks connected, fist against fist, finding only one point of contact.
The ground beneath them began to crater, stones and dust rising due to the constant vibrations their barrage created.
Finally, Naruto broke the impasse, launching a brutal haymaker. Chakra pulsed through his arm, and his fist crashed into Akaza's face, hard.
The demon's nose and cheek bones shattered with a crunch, blood jetting from an opened wound in his skull. Bone fragments flew from his face. Akaza's body went flying downward. But as he was launched to the ground, the demon's left arm came forward with a deadly upper cut.
Naruto's eyes widened—impressed by the skill needed to counter like this.
He could barely see it. A distortion in space. Slight. Yet unyielding.
Another missile of air erupted from Akaza's fist.
It blasted Naruto's face, just as his haymaker plowed into Akaza's nose.
A normal person's head would have been blown to pulp by the demon's air pressure punch. But Naruto's eyes narrowed. He took the blast of wind full on. It stung, surprisingly. The blast continued at supersonic speeds, punching giant holes through several more trees.
Akaza's body struck the ground, Naruto's fist driving his head into the dirt, destroying large chunks of his brain—blood and gray matter painting the forest floor.
Naruto recovered quickly from Akaza's airburst, bringing his palm down, attempting to shatter Akaza's ribs.
The demon recovered as well, twirling his body. Even with half his head missing, he did a handstand. Then, using his arms to control his movements, Akaza spun his legs like rotors.
A barrage of whirling kicks came toward Naruto's midsection. He dodged them all, bobbing and weaving.
Akaza flipped back unto his feet, grinning. His skull was already healed, almost instantly.
Once again, inches apart, they stared each other down.
That was just a preliminary exchange, a way to feel their skills out, to gauge what needed to be done to prevail. Naruto could tell. Akaza had only been testing the waters, based on their initial bout.
"In all my years, I've never met a human quite like you, Naruto," the demon said. "Are you even human?"
"Of course I am," Naruto replied, smiling despite himself. "And I could say the same thing of you. You're a strange demon, Akaza. Not just in strength, but in motivation."
Akaza tilted his head. "Motivation?"
"You don't seek blood randomly. You said it yourself. You're here to fight, to grow stronger. Why is that?"
Akaza frowned.
Memories seemed to flicker before his mind, and the demon hesitated for an instant.
Then, his eyes narrowed. Akaza said nothing in response. Instead, he sprung back into action. Leaping high, he punched dozens of times.
"Disorder!" he yelled.
One hundred supersonic bullets of air flew toward Naruto, blasting forward. Again, he could hardly see them, but he could feel them as they headed toward him.
Naruto stretched forth a palm, summoning the wind. A dome of compressed air shielded him, taking the barrage.
The forest around him shattered. Like a meteor shower, giant holes were punched into the ground. Trees were uprooted, tossed into the air, dust and debris littering the surrounding area.
Akaza appeared within the sudden dust. His leg came careening toward Naruto. He dropped the dome, kunai in hand. Wind chakra streaming, extending from the edge of his blade, he sliced Akaza's leg off.
The upper moon didn't flinch. He kept on with the kick, and by the time it struck Naruto's face, the leg had already regenerated.
A shockwave toppled more trees. Akaza's kick was powerful. Anyone else would have lost their head.
Unharmed, Naruto sliced again, cutting Akaza to pieces with his wind-aided kunai.
But his regeneration was so fast, so absurd, that every time his blade sliced a portion of the demon to pieces, a new body part had already grown to replace it.
He's like an Edo Tensei, Naruto thought, amazed by the Upper Moon's biology.
The rasengan was forming in Naruto's hand before Akaza could make his next move. He thrust it right into the demon's chest. For the first time, Akaza's face scrunched up in pain, and he was sent soaring deeper into the forest, carving a trench in the dirt, blasts of chakra following as he slammed into a rushing river.
"Don't prolong this, Naruto."
Kurama almost sounded exasperated, clearly focused on other things—mainly gathering natural energy at a steady, controlled, uninterrupted pace. In fact, he was collecting even more now, compensating for Naruto.
"Fine, fine," he said, rubbing his hair.
He was, after all, using more chakra than usual, which said a lot about his opponent.
Naruto reached into his holster, pulling out four seals.
He placed them back, already knowing when to attach them.
When the demon least expected it.
Naruto had to admit, Akaza was, indeed, incredible. Every move he made was nearly perfect. His skill in martial arts alone could rival even the monsters of the great nations.
He wasn't as powerful as the strongest people Naruto had ever faced. He couldn't cut mountains in half, or blow cities to pieces. Yet, the demon's precise control over his body, his ability to counter and predict attacks, even when faced with a physically superior opponent, was akin to watching a true master at work.
Who was Akaza, really?
And what had driven him to such maddening devotion—to such a degree that he would jeopardize his mission, destroy his ally's army, indirectly protecting Demon Slayers, just to keep his word and test his skill in battle?
Surprisingly, Naruto wanted to know.
…
A man.
A beautiful, yet sickly woman.
Training.
Their love.
Their deaths.
Him. Murdering scores of people.
Leaking blood. Shattered bone. Brain matter painting his fists.
Akaza stood, images flickering before his mind. The river rushed onward, soaking him. He looked forward. The wound in his chest was already healed, muscles, then skin, closing in a blink.
Why did hurt so much? he thought. Why did that specific, spherical technique hurt more than the others?
He healed, no doubt. Yet, it had been agonizing. One of the worst pains he'd felt as a demon. That grinding, drilling, energetic sensation that left him aching, even as he recovered.
Akaza smiled.
Nevertheless, that pain made him feel alive.
"A human like this cannot simply fade into history. He can't die. I won't allow it."
Unbidden, a memory crawled up to the surface, and he saw someone with long, red-tinted hair. They held a nichirin blade, a flame-shaped tattoo on their face. This person moved with grace unparalleled, striking down demons in a fashion similar to swatting flies.
It wasn't his memory, but Muzan's.
Akaza's body trembled at the similarity.
So, Naruto was just like this long-dead swordsman, an anomaly that defied logic or reason.
Instead of this realization discouraging him, however, Akaza only grew more eager to fight.
Because no matter how powerful Naruto was, he was still human. He still tired. Still took time to recovery from injuries.
"I will win," Akaza stated.
He readied himself. For this time, Naruto was on the offensive.
Akaza sensed the blond's trajectory before he emerged from the trees, eyes following his battle spirit. Naruto rocketed downward, fist crashing into the riverbed. A massive crater formed beneath them, Akaza leaping away, dodging the blow.
Splashes of water flew, then froze in midair.
Akaza moved.
Time slowed to a halt.
His blood demon art reactivated, a snow-flake pattern forming beneath his feet.
Compass Needle.
It was the epitome of his techniques. His demon art wasn't like Doma's or Kokushibo's, or any other demon's for that matter.
He didn't rely on supernatural manifestations like mist or ice. No. His power focused on sensing the battle spirit of his opponent, using it to predict their attacks, to find their weak points, and deliver death with all impunity.
Akaza could feel everything in that moment. The flow of water beneath him. The rustle of grass against a subtle breeze. Naruto's kunai, parting the air to stab through his skull.
Akaza weaved out of the way, spinning on his heel, water churning at his feet.
Leg Type: Explosive Fury
His legs were like flashes of lightning, each kick shattering the sound barrier, releasing bursts of compressed air.
Incredibly, Naruto dodged them all, bobbing and weaving past one hundred kicks, and their accompanying wind-bullets.
Then, Naruto's battle spirit coalesced into his fist as he punched, blowing a hole in Akaza's torso. His already monstrous strength, coupled with a concise control of inner energy, was a potent mix.
It was unlike anything he'd ever seen a human do. To shape one's battle spirit and manifest it in the physical world—this was unheard of. Impossible, even.
But here he was, witnessing the impossible.
He coughed up mounds of blood. Something about Naruto's recent attacks were painful beyond belief.
Why?
Hissing, Akaza used both fist and leg. He ran through a set of forms. Low attacks. High attacks. Long range attacks. Sweeping kicks that cut swathes of forest in half from a distance.
They danced about each other, unleashed techniques that would put most martial artists to shame.
At certain points, their attacks almost seemed choreographed, almost like an artistic display, beautiful as it was deadly.
Akaza's arms moved on their own accord, pulled to Naruto's organs, his weak points, like a magnet to metal, a predictive byproduct of his blood demon art.
Still, the blond avoided him, twisting around like a snake, countering each strike with a deftness that defied reason.
A sudden kick struck Akaza under the chin, sending him flying high above the trees, so high the moon was all he saw.
His jaw regenerating, Akaza was greeted by the sight of three different Naruto's surrounding him.
Was it a trick?
An illusion?
It had to be. A human couldn't—
They attacked him midair, fists blurring, each one as real as the original.
It wasn't an illusion, then.
Akaza's body was broken. The moment he regenerated, his body was broken again. And again. And again.
He was tossed about like a doll. Akin to a ball in a children's game.
A kick shattered his skull, sent him flying to another replica's fist, then sent him flying into another blow that broke his spine, blood and viscera spilling from his midsection.
He healed, of course. The moment he was damaged, his body recovered. But it wasn't pleasant. Something about these attacks hurt. Terribly. Like they were targeting his nervous system, sending horrific bolts of pain throughout his body.
He was punched above, higher. Then a clone, hands clasped, struck him down. A sonic boom resounded as he fell from above, hitting the ground with such force that every bone in his body shattered.
Already recovering, he got to his feet, only to be surrounded once more by three Naruto's. They encircled him, and Akaza received the thrashing of a lifetime.
He was punched, kicked, cut, sliced, and ripped apart.
It was surreal, to be so thoroughly bested. And by a human, too.
The fists rained down for what felt like hours.
For what felt like an eternity.
This—this is it, he thought.
The battle he'd longed for.
And it was glorious.
A kick broke his neck.
Akaza recovered.
A kunai cut his arms off as he tried to counter.
Akaza regrew them.
He wouldn't die. No matter how many times his body was wounded.
But the pain.
It was absurd.
He couldn't do anything, couldn't counter, either. When he tried to escape the deadlock, a clone would notice, stopping him, sending him back into the fist of another.
And so, in that moment, teetering between consciousness and oblivion, Akaza grew.
He changed. He evolved.
For the past few decades, Akaza feared he'd reached his peak. Over time, the battles against Demon Slayers had become easier, to the point that he never became stronger. He never grew to the level needed to defeat Doma and Kokushibo. Especially because he never ate women, like the others did. He gained strength through battle, not by feasting on weaklings. That was his way. His path to power.
Now, this.
This is what he had longed for. Someone to push him to the brink, then beyond. An insurmountable challenge to break him down, and build him anew.
Beaten to a bloody mound of flesh, Akaza lifted his head and roared. Roared to the sky. To the heavens themselves.
The ground shattered beneath him; a shockwave of air blasted outward, toppling trees, tossing boulders, kicking up dust as a tornado ripped through the forest.
He saw Naruto's eyes glimmer, widen.
Was that admiration he saw?
Perhaps. Because Akaza also admired his foe—more than anyone he'd ever faced since becoming a demon.
More than Kokushibo.
More than Muzan himself.
When the dust settled, when the tornado slowed to a halt, they were standing in a crater fifty meters wide, and several meters deep.
The clones puffed to smoke, dispelled by the original, who stood before him with a fascinated look.
Akaza smiled. He'd never smiled so many times in a single day. He was just so enamored with this battle, with all the new experiences he was gaining. His wounds were already healed, damage gone, replaced with fresh skin and new bones.
"You have to become a demon, Naruto," he implored. "Look at me. After that brilliant display, after all that effort, your attacks were meaningless in the end. I recovered. I survived your onslaught. And I'm stronger for it. But you? You'll tire. You'll weaken. It might take hours. Maybe even a day. But eventually, you will. By then, you will fall by my hand, as so many humans have in the past."
"Are you really offering to turn me into a demon?" Naruto asked.
Akaza nodded.
"Well, that's a first," he said, laughing. "Nearly every demon I've met has only wanted to eat me."
"Then they were fools," Akaza stated, teeth gritted. "They do not understand what it means to live, to battle a foe so powerful that you don't resent them. You applaud them, instead."
"Is that all there is to life, though?" Naruto asked. His gaze softened, surprising Akaza. Such kindness in those sea-blue eyes. "Fighting. Growing stronger? Is that it?"
"Yes," Akaza answered resolutely.
"What about friendship? Companionship? Love," Naruto listed. "What about becoming the best at something other than violence?"
"Meaningless," he replied. "The very reason for life is survival, Naruto. The primal state of man is to fight, to best the next enemy in order to live, or die trying. That is the essence of existence."
Naruto tilted his head. He listened, even though he didn't agree. Akaza respected him more for that. Instead of denouncing him, as all others he fought had, Naruto tried to understand his perspective on the matter.
"But why do you fight?" Naruto continued. "Very few things in this world can kill you. As an Upper Moon, as a demon, you aren't fighting for survival alone. You're only fighting because you enjoy it."
Akaza nodded once more. "That is true. I won't deny it." He placed a hand to his once human heart, speaking honestly. "There's something within me, something that pushes me every day. I don't know what it is. Yet it urges me on."
Akaza extended that same hand to Naruto. Even he was surprised by how earnest his voice sounded.
"Become a demon, Naruto. We can fight forever. Both of us. We can become stronger forever. We can taste a level of fulfillment mortals can never know. Imagine it. Imagine how powerful you can become in one hundred years. You're already strong enough to be an Upper Moon as a human. You'd be far more powerful if you became a demon. Maybe powerful enough to defeat Upper Moon One. Don't throw this opportunity away. Don't grow old and fade into history."
"Old people can be strong too, you now. I knew one personally. My late village leader." Naruto crossed his arms, then smiled. "Besides, I don't think my buddy would allow me to be become a demon. He's a grumpy furball, that one. He'd burn away any foreign blood in my system, anyway."
Akaza arched a brow, wondered who Naruto was talking about.
"I want to provide you a way out, Akaza," the blond spoke. "Still, I can tell you've killed scores of people, untold numbers of people. For years, too. As an Upper Moon, such mass murder is a necessity. I've helped a few of your kind at this point. But there has to be a limit, you know?"
Naruto sighed, seeming to struggle with those words. Why was that?
Did he actually think he could "help" him?
The blond rubbed his hair. "However, you still protected those Demon Slayers back there."
"Only because I wished to battle without any distractions—not to save those weaklings," Akaza countered.
"No matter your reasoning, you protected them, Akaza. We all saw it. You saved many of them."
"And?"
"Maybe you can still change," Naruto ventured.
"Change…" he repeated, images of a human life flashing before his mind.
Naruto smiled then.
It reminded him of someone.
Someone long dead.
"Here's my offer," he continued. "Give up now. Put this endless pursuit of power to rest. There is so much more you could do. You can fight to protect, instead of harm. It's well within your power, Akaza."
Silence.
Akaza closed his eyes, then opened them.
"I refuse your offer," he stated.
Simple, to the point.
Naruto nodded, respecting his decision.
"And I refused your offer to become a demon."
"Very well." Akaza got into his staple stance, that of the soryu style. He reactivated his blood demon art, and the snow-flake pattern was larger now, more complex, evidence of his growth. "I will have to kill you then."
Naruto slid into his stance as well. There, he held strange slips of paper in his right hand, etched with even stranger symbols.
Senses sharper than ever, he knew the blond was planning something.
"This will be our last exchange, Akaza. I won't hold anything back."
Akaza grinned, genuinely excited for the conclusion of their battle.
"Wouldn't have it any other way. Let's end this," he said, then added softly, "I promise to remember you, Naruto. Until the end of time."
Naruto only chuckled in return.
No more words were spoken.
They blurred forward, on one final collision course.
One final clash, like when they'd first met.
That glorious blue sphere began forming above Naruto's palm, growing, growing without end, and Akaza could do nothing but laugh with joy as he brought his hands together, pulling massive amounts of air from his surroundings.
This was what it meant to be alive.
"Annihilation type!"
"Odama Rasengan!"
In Caring Arms
..
.
.
Most of the mist cleared in that moment, revealing a sickening sight.
Shinobu let go of Susamaru's hand, eyes growing wide.
The palace of ice was as horrible as it was beautiful, rising high above the trees, crafted with dramaticism in mind, emanating from a being that feared not excess, but reveled in it.
And inside it's cold, crystal walls lay dozens of Demon Slayers. They were trapped, imprisoned within the creation of a twisted, evil creature.
"Welcome!" a cold, horrible voice proclaimed. "I was starting to grow bored, wondering when someone would find me."
Beside her, Susamaru stiffened. Then trembled. Not in fear, but in rage.
Shinobu glanced at her companion, who had gently placed Takeuchi on the ground. She took off her orange haori and draped it over the unconscious Demon Slayer, who had been shivering because of the cold.
Susamaru stretched out her left hand, and something began to form just above her palm. It grew, swirling orange-red with glowing energy. It was hot, too. Shinobu could feel the heat, like being near a roaring flame, like being near the sun itself.
She remembered this technique. Naruto had used it once to attack that rampaging Lower Moon Four. And Susamaru had somehow replicated it, staring daggers into the creature that lounged high above, seated on his lofty perch, a cruel, dead smile on his lips.
"Shinobu?" asked Susamaru.
"Yes?"
"He has to die. Tonight."
End.
One last cliffhanger. Sorry! But I promise, the arc ends with the next chapter.
I've been hinting at Susamaru's connection with Doma since chapter 3, as well as chapter 11 and chapter 12 (when Doma recognizes her in Muzan's shared memory). The Paradise Faith Cult was something I wanted to explore, as it seemed like an interesting topic that was never really fleshed out in canon. She's a blank slate – backstory wise – so why not have it be a little more.
Naruto vs Akaza. What can I say? This was a beast to write. Listening to Akaza's theme by Samuel Kim while writing was just icing on the cake. Props to anyone who can spot the Invincible reference during their "team up" against Doma's Ice creatures.
Naruto and Mitsuri. They were super fun to write together.
And poor Inosuke, surrounded by a sea of monsters!
Thanks for reading, everyone.