Scorching Sun
The sun bared down over the Swordsmith Village.
Kanroji Mitsuri stood breathless, heart pounding as giant snakes coiled and slithered through the streets. Each serpent was a towering monstrosity, and many villagers were dead. Mitsuri barely had a moment to understand what she was seeing before the one she was facing lunged toward her, fangs gleaming! “Mr. Swordsmiths!” she cried to the villagers she was protecting as she leapt back, “Please run!”
Her heart racing, struggling to maintain her usual grace, and confusion clouded her instincts, she nevertheless fought valiantly, slicing through the massive reptiles! Each of them seemed only as strong as a lower moon, but they were everywhere, and the stench of blood was in the air. " Where did they come from? Why here?”
Nearby, villagers scrambled in disarray, their screams mingling with the hissing of the snakes. Her focus, however, narrowed to the immediate threat as she swung at one snake’s eye, feeling the recoil as her blade struck true. The creature screeched and reared back, but a second lunged, forcing her into a frantic whirl to avoid its deadly jaws.
Realizing the snakes were spreading through the village faster than she could fend them off alone, Mitsuri gritted her teeth.
“EVERYONE!” she cried in her loudest voice. “PLEASE RUN!”
She ran to the village’s main gate, hoping to cover the evacuation as well as she could.
Love breathing, Second Form: Love Pangs!
A massive serpent was cut into sections before it’s fangs could reach her.
Third Form: Catlove Shower! A swordsmith and his son, huddling together were saved as Mitsuri lept between them and the multiple snakes who were attacking them.
This was the daytime, and these monsters were not disintegrating like demons did… and they came one after the other!
Each slash of her blade sent her spiraling through a frenzy of whipping tails and snapping fangs. Her breaths were ragged, her body stretched to its limits, yet she fought with every ounce of energy, defending her home with the fierce resilience that defined her spirit.
Before she knew it, she stood hunched over, both hands gripping her blade, completely out of breath.
There seemed to be a quiet, as the sun was now setting, and the villagers who survived were all gone. Mitsuri steadied herself to face the next wave of monstrous serpents. Her body tensed as a chilling presence descended... He was no serpent. Was this the man who had sent them? No... he wasn't a man... he must have been a demon, and yet... he stood there in the sun. A wave of foreboding washed over the Love Pillar as she watched him approach.
The setting sun to his back; A lean figure clad in a cream-colored robe and a thick purple rope belt tied in a large knot behind his back; stepped into view, hair dark and flowing, over his tomoe earrings, and eyes gleaming with a cruel intelligence. Orochimaru’s smirk grew as he watched Mitsuri’s labored breaths. “Well done child,” he purred. “Such skill for such a difficultly-shaped blade.”
Kanroji Mitsuri raised her sword defensively, struggling to keep her nerves steady. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice both shaky and defiant. “Why are you attacking us?” There were unshed tears in her eyes, for all of the swordsmiths whom she had been unable to save.
His lips curled in amusement. “An unfortunate necessity,” he replied, almost as if to himself. “I must prove my commitment to a new alliance.” He gave a slight tilt of his head. “Now, show me how you dance, Love Hashira.” At his words, more giant serpents slithered forward, their scales grinding against the ground like sandpaper on stone. They encircled her, towering above, and Orochimaru watched, seemingly curious to see how long she would hold her own. Mitsuri’s grip tightened, her breath came fast and uneven, but she steadied herself, channeling her Love Breathing with all her remaining strength.
With a fierce cry, Mitsuri launched into her technique, her blade a radiant blur against the monsters surrounding her. The serpent closest to her lunged, fangs wide, and she spun into an elegant arc, slicing through its jaw. Another beast snapped at her from behind, but she turned, slashing again and again!
But her movements were becoming less graceful, and more desperate.
The edge of exhaustion loomed, every movement straining her muscles. She could feel her breaths coming shorter, and her limbs grew heavier, each serpent cut down only bringing another to fill its place. Her vision blurred, but her spirit remained unwavering.
Finally, Mitsuri stumbled, a painful realization dawning that her strength was nearly spent. She gave one final cry, slashing at the nearest serpent, knowing this could be her last stand. Orochimaru’s cold smile lingered in the distance as he continued to watch, as though he were a theatergoer marveling at the climax of a play.
Mitsuri fell to her knees, and closed her eyes as tears flowed uncontrollably. “Everyone…” she sobbed, thinking of her friends and comrades… “I’M SORRY! THIS WAS ALL-” the final serpent’s jaws closed on her, as Orochimaru, watched with a smile on his face.
***
Kanao sat quietly beside Tanjiro, a rare sense of ease in the air. As she looked up to the evening sky, her crow, Isuzu, swooped down, landing carefully before her. Isuzu folded her wings, bowing her head low with a soft, solemn caw, as though grieving herself. Kanao’s brows knitted in worry, her hand unconsciously reaching toward the small, anxious tremor in Isuzu’s feathers.
“Kanao,” Isuzu began, her voice unusually heavy. “Kanroji Mitsuri… has fallen in the attack on the Swordsmith Village.”
Kanao blinked, and for a moment her expression was frozen. Her throat tightened, her vision blurring as Mitsuri’s smiling face flashed through her mind…. Her hand trembled as she struggled to comprehend the avalanche of emotions that now crashed down on her. Without realizing it, she turned to Tanjiro, seeking something… stability, comfort, anything that might lessen the weight crushing her heart. He was right there, his eyes widened, filled with pain and sorrow as well, yet he extended his hand, steady as an oak tree, grounding her in the midst of her storm.
Slowly, she leaned into his shoulder, her face buried in the warmth of his haori, sweating as she felt the feeling of a cry bubbling up, and then being involuntarily forced back down…
Tanjiro meanwhile, clenched his fist, grief gnawing at him, the urge to rage against the loss of Mitsuri almost overwhelming. But he kept his emotions in check, forcing himself to remain steady for Kanao’s sake. He wrapped an arm around her, offering her a silent strength, his fingers gently brushing her back. “I’m here, Kanao,” he whispered.
Kanao did not cry, but she allowed herself to lean on Tanjiro. She nodded weakly against him, as Isuzu looked on…
All across Japan, the Hashira were one by one, informed of the news. Tomioka Giyuu, accepted that these things were inevitable, as did Uzui Tengen. Kanroji Mitsuri was not the first comrade they would have lost, nor would she have been the last.
Even still, it calcified their resolve.
In a further corner of the Island, tears fell down the face of Himejima Gyomei as he recited the Nembutsu for the soul of his fallen comrade, and Rengoku Kyojuro, climbed to the top of a tree branch to be alone for a while. “Mitsuri…” he said to himself… “I am so proud of you.”
***
Sanemi and Obanai clashed fiercely in the training court, their strikes ringing out as they pushed each other to the edge. Suddenly, Sorai and Yuan swooped down, summoning each man to the far ends of the courtyard.
The snake and wind pillars exchanged a glance, and then each walked across the length to their respective crows. Sanemi’s jaw tightened as Sorai relayed the message of Mitsuri’s death… killed not by demons, but by a “sorcerer” named Orochimaru. Fury blazed in his eyes, but his thoughts immediately turned to Obanai. When Sanemi glanced across the courtyard, he saw Obanai in rigid silence, his head lowered, but his fists clenched so tightly they shook. Obanai’s aura radiated with an intensity that Sanemi had never seen before, an expression of raw, consuming rage that made even him uneasy. The grief and pain were obvious, yet Obanai was beyond words, his rage churning like a barely contained storm.
Sanemi took a step forward, cautiously approaching his friend. “We’ll make both Muzan and Orochimaru regret every second they drew breath, Obanai. We’ll rip them apart…. We will drag them to hell…”
Obanai’s voice was low... “I will watch him die slowly…,” he said, barely more than a whisper, “...if it is the last thing I do… that I swear.”...
***
There was silence between the Kocho sisters as they sat in the room of their inn. Kanae sat pensively in the seiza position, her Katana which was usually lined neatly at her right hand, was now in front of her. Shinobu sat by the window, watching as people in the town outside began to close up their shops for the day. A few families were still outside, taking advantage of the day’s temperate weather, and the later afternoon sunlight.
The outdoor pleasantness seemed to mock their mood.
The Ubuyashikis were now safe, at an undisclosed location. Kagaya had refused to leave Japan, and in a rare exercise of his authority, ordered Himejima to leave his side, and return to his post. Kanao was safe, as were the rest of their colleagues. Kanroji Mitsuri was dead, and though both sisters wanted nothing more than to comfort their friends, especially Rengoku and Obanai; they couldn’t even do that at the moment. The Hashira would gather again the next day at the earliest, but in these moments, the wait was agonizing.
“Shinobu,” Kanae suggested, “would you like to come with me for a walk?”
“I was just about to suggest that myself Nee-san,” Shinobu replied. “I think we both need some fresh air. Besides, I was thinking we should buy some sweets or tea before the last shops close.”
Kanae nodded in agreement. Under normal circumstances, she would have pushed for both of them to go to bed early and be as well rested for the next day as possible, but she knew to expect sleeplessness for this night. “Shinobu, are you taking that?” Kanae asked with surprise in her voice.
Shinobu looked down at her Katana. “I just feel like I need it Nee-san… I know we’ll be back before dark, and we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves but…” She couldn’t bring himself to say his name. “He attacked the swordsmith village during the day. I’ll wrap it up so that no one sees its a sword.”
Kanae nodded understandingly.
They stepped out of the inn and into the gentle sunlight. Shinobu exhaled softly as she was able to release some of the pent up anxiety as of late, allowing the gentle breeze and the smell of the nearby forest to comfort her. “Even if we can’t find an open shop,” Kanae said, looking back and giving her a reassuring smile, “the walk is certainly doing us good, yeah?”
“Yes Nee-san,” Shinobu agreed, returning a weary smile of her own.
Kanae strolled quietly alongside Shinobu, her gaze drifting over the soft hues of the sky, whose blue was beginning to mix with a steady orange glow from the western horizon.
She began to feel something strange… a faint pulling sensation, like an invisible hand gently tugging at her thoughts. She shook her head, sensing an odd fog clouding her mind. “ This is… strange,” she thought, her instincts alerting her that something wasn’t right. She slowed, trying to focus, but her own mind felt distant, unresponsive to her subconscious… Her vision blurred, the quiet street seeming to stretch and warp before her eyes. Kanae’s heart quickened. She recognized her growing daze but felt powerless to resist, her thoughts slipping further from her control. “ What is this”… her mind whispered, her body already beginning to wander on its own.
She was vaguely aware of Shinobu’s presence just a few steps away, but her voice couldn’t reach her, she did not even think to attempt to call out to her. It was as though a heavy fog had isolated her, sealing her off. Kanae stumbled forward, leaving Shinobu behind without a word, her movements slow and dreamlike, as though following a distant, haunting call.
Shinobu meanwhile had found to her pleasant surprise; a vendor’s stall that was still open for business. She approached, appreciating the warm scent of freshly made sweets wafting through the air. The vendor, a cheerful, gray-haired man with a friendly smile, nodded in greeting. “Good evening, young lady. Out late for a little treat?” he asked, his tone light and inviting.
“Yes, just something small,” she replied, glancing over the colorful display of sweets. “Nee-san and I were—”
She turned, expecting Kanae beside her. But as her eyes scanned the quiet, empty street, a chill settled over her. Kanae was nowhere to be seen.
“It's awfully late to be out shopping for treats, isn’t it little girl?” The vendor asked. There was nothing paternal or friendly about his tone. Shinobu tensed... his tone was predatory.
The man stepped out from behind his stall, and more men now emerged from the shadows, surrounding her.
“Where is Nee-san!?” Shinobu opened her mouth to call for Kanae, but the vendor’s rough hand clasped her mouth shut from behind with such force that it hurt!
“Your so weak!” He cried with surprise. “Not even putting up any resistance! I don’t know why Lord Orochimaru hired so many of us to do this job, I could have done it alone, easily-GAHHHH!” He cried out in pain, his grip on Shinobu breaking as he collapsed to the ground, and Jinobu leapt out of his reach, landing on the top of his stall.
The dagger that stuck out of her Tabi was bared, and she unwrapped the cloth around her sword, which she now spun into her attack stance. “You think me weak?” she hissed, livid anger glowing in her eyes. “Is your Orochimaru such an idiot that he sends pathetic lowlives such as yourselves to face me!?” She was brimming with anger, but not too angry to observe the men… there were eight of them, including the vendor. She could tell right away, just by looking at them that they were cheap thugs for hire, and they were overconfident.
“Good!”
She sprang from the roof of the stall, not even needing to use her breathing dances! She zig-zagged from target to target, each of them unable to keep up with her ferocious speed, as she stabbed the tip of her blade into their thighs, their necks!
They staggered and fell, as the poison took its toll.
Shinobu now stood in the field, the setting sun set on her back, as the drugged attackers lay in the dirt around her. Without sheathing her blade, she marched over to the youngest, a man perhaps a year younger than she was. She stood over him, and held her blade pointed at his neck… “I’ve injected you all with a relatively harmless tranquilizer. Its effects should wear off soon, and you’ll all be able to move you again, but it's not the only poison I have. If you don’t tell me what I need to know, I’ll inject you with something much worse. Understand?”
The boy looked up at her with eyes as defiant as ever.
“Where is my sister?” Shinobu asked venomously, “what did you do with her?”
“What sister? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb! She’s a girl in her early twenties. She has the same hair and eye-color as me, and wears two green and pink butterfly hairpins and a white haori that fades to pale turquoise then pink toward the cuff and hem. Have you seen her!?”
“I swear I haven’t seen anyone like that!”
“Neither have we,” grunted one of the older thugs. “Lord Orochimaru told us that we would find you alone here.”
“Alone?” Shinobu asked, as the implication sank in.
“Your beloved sister is safe.”
The voice that now came from the Shadows made Shinobu nearly jump out of her skin. A tall man now made his appearance… though Shinobu was not sure whether or not to call him a man. He was not like a demon, yet… he did not appear to be human.
Suddenly, she found herself even more paralyzed than the thugs were. “She is safe,” Orochimaru repeated. “This would be far more interesting with sweet Kanae alive. Though I must say, I am a bit disappointed in Sasori’s students. To interrogate your attackers, you only needed one of them alive, and yet you were willing to spare all of them.”
“I’m… I’m not a murderer,” Shinobu stammered, finding her voice. “Just tell me where Nee-san is… p- please.”
Orochimaru gave a low chuckle in response, and brought his hand with his long index and middle finger’s pointing upward, to his forehead, the way she had seen Sasori do when releasing a seal.
Shinobu’s vision was now tunneled, and her head was focused forward. She had no way of seeing what was happening to the bodies of the men around her, but she both smelt, and felt the blood as it spattered onto her.
The boy she had hoped to interrogate, let out an inaudible scream, as he watched his comrades combust… And Shinobu slipped into darkness.