Quietude

1

In tribute to a man who deserved the world, and so much more.

| Quietude - Chapter 1 - The Reserved Swordsmith

Kyojuro followed in his Kasugai's trail as it flew above the forest's treeline, trekking through the thick layers of snow that had coated the mountain white overnight.

The Demon Slayer was mindful not to lose his footing, as the snow, which reached up above his ankles, threatened to trip him over more than a few times. The cold of the mountain was as unforgiving as its layers of snow.

Kyojuro could feel his lungs crystalize with every lungful; echoes of minuscule glaciers puncturing his lungs sounded in his head upon each inhale. It was revitalizing, somewhat.

The Pillar exhaled a thick cloud of condensation as he glanced ahead, estimating the way left to go.

The little house at the mountaintop stood almost teasingly, taunting the swordsman with a sweet promise of warmth and rest. Several more meters up the stubbornly steep hill and he'd make it.

"Caw! You'll soon reach the [L/n] workshop! A demon has been sighted roaming near the area! Caw!" squawked the crow as it flew a little ways ahead of the golden-eyed swordsman.

Kyojuro's everlasting smile broadened. He unconsciously hugged his haori a little closer to himself, marching on with energetic shouts of "Forward! Forward!" each time his feet met the snow. His muscles had yet to sore.

Before long, the Flame Pillar was standing by the shack's entrance, nose and fingertips frostbitten. His grip on his sword remained firm regardless, on guard and aware. However, he couldn't help but feel as though the cold had numbed his senses somewhat. He lamented the poor people who lived in this harsh climate.

Kyojuro raised a hand to knock, meeting his knuckles with the wooden door in a rapid succession of rasps.

A short while later, a quiet "Come in" beckoned him inside.

Kyojuro didn't have to be told twice to walk in, wearing his signature grin. He shuddered in delight as a strong wave of heat caressed his face the instant he stepped inside.

He then noticed a boy hunched over an anvil, battering away at a piece of steel. A blade, Kyojuro aptly recognized.

The boy wore a black, snowflake-patterned robe, and had his face concealed by a Hyottoko mask. He had long dark hair tied into a high ponytail.

The boy hadn't bothered sparing his newly arrived guest a single glance—he kept pounding the metal diligently.

Rengoku's smile never faltered as he approached the boy by a few steps in an attempt to catch his attention.

"Hello!" he greeted. "I'm Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Pillar! I've come to patrol the area, as a demon has been reported wandering about these parts."

He received no answer but the toll of pounding iron.

"Have you," the Flame Pillar pried, his golden eyes gleaming with curiosity, "seen the demon in question anywhere?"

No answer. There was a slight waver in the boy's arm as he battered the steel now, a sliver of hesitancy. It was gone as fast as it had come.

Kyojuro tilted his head a fraction, observing the boy in his dedicated work.

Upon closer inspection, he noted how toned the boy's arms were, proof of the intense effort he put into his craft. Behind the mask, the Demon Slayer imagined, were a face and eyes of unwavering concentration. Rengoku could practically feel the boy's sheer intent radiate with every hit against the burning iron.