Nobility (Kimetsu no Yaiba x OC)

Chapter 9

Kanjō did most things with neutrality. She didn't want to put forth too much effort and be rewarded with nothing, the disappointment wasn't as harsh that way. But once in a while, she would get "fired up", as Kyoujuro describes, and seemed to be more motivated than the other day.

Kyoujuro thinks she's an enigma. A yokai, not demon mind you, who never needed sleep or food, had been training him for the past nine days. It was peculiar, with how she was never there during meal times and how he would wake up at night to see her sitting on the porch outside his room.

Her words were only a few, holding a more refined tone than even Oyakata-sama's voice. 

"Pay attention."

Kanjō was currently sparring against the Flame Hashira, moving her wooden training sword to parry his nichirin blade. She felt no threat of being hurt by him, not many could injure her anyways, and the purpose of the exercise was to improve his reaction speed.

Though, the sword she held seemed to move like a whip itself. When Kyoujuro tries to block a swing, her attack always changed direction to hit another part of his body.

He flinches as he's met with a strike to his ribs, painful, but not too serious of an injury. He moves forward, ignoring the forming bruise at his side, swinging his blade up.

It's the second form of his breath of flames, a deadly upward strike that he practiced years of perfecting.

But Kanjō does not look worried and casually flips backwards to avoid it, her clothes followed in a streak of brilliant white.

"Strong, but should be used when the opponent is moving forward. Momentum will carry them into the strike."

She explains the flaws of his attacks, carefully analyzing ways others could avoid or evade. 

He launches himself at her, hoping to catch her off guard with a quick hit, but is sorely mistaken. With a simple shift to the right and a foot at his ankle, Kyoujuro finds himself falling. He reacts quicker this time, twisting his body mid-fall and attempting to at least graze her legs. Kanjō notices a bit late, uncharacteristic of her personality, and moves too late, the white material of her pants getting cut to reveal pale, almost white, flesh.

The flame haired man crashes to the ground a second later, smiling all the while. He's overwhelmed with pride and starts to laugh gleefully. A whole week and two days to land just one hit.

"I've done it!! I've finally done it!!!"

Kanjō stands, watching over him with an indifferent expression, but is mostly unfazed by the ripped fabric as it begins to mend itself back together. She's proud of the man, taking only a few steps to reach his side and crouch down to look at his face. The man himself looks curiously at the silver haired woman.

"Kanjō-san? Is something the matter?"

A pale hand enters his view and Kyoujuro feels a light touch on his forehead, but he is petrified in awe as he stares at her face.

A smile.

Such a gentle, serene smile formed on her pink lips.

It's beautiful, he thinks to himself.

"This Kanjō is proud of your efforts."

She reminds him of his own mother during times like these, his eyes softening to something intimate as if lost in memory. It's not fair, nor is it right, but he sees traces of his mother. The want of such motherly affection that he pushed back all those years ago resurfacing in giant waves.

He desperately feels like crying.

Is this what it's like to feel loved by a parent again?

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Kanjō has made the porch outside Kyoujuro's room her living quarters now.

There's a cushion for her to sit on that's been there since the second day of her stay at the Rengoku estate and a small table for her nightly drinking.

Shinjuro, the father of the two younger Rengoku's, has not exited his room since the time she visited. Though, Senjuro would place a tray of food outside his door during meal times, coming back to find the contents eaten.

Kyoujuro finds it soothing to watch Kanjō sit outside at night, sleep came to him easier that way.

She knows, she can feel his stare on her back, but chooses to let it happen. Maybe it's because of his mother's yūrei and the fact her presence lingers around the daiyokai, if not for the obvious difference in appearance, she could easily be mistaken as that woman right now. 

Kyoujuro blames it on his weariness when he sees his mother's figure blur into Kanjō's silhouette. Silver hair turned to a glossy black and the white cloth became a sunset orange. It's a strange phenomenon, of a person becoming another, so he quickly shuts his eyes and forces himself to sleep.

The single belief that the dead can't come back alive kept him sane, from reaching out to take hold of the orange sleeve. He berates himself for even thinking of it.

Kanjō is her own person.

So he holds himself back, far away from those thoughts. He was born strong to protect the weak, not to wallow in his past.

Kyoujuro's mother left him with the duty of protecting, of being strong. So when Kanjō reminds him of his mother, he feels small and insignificant. Back to his he felt when he was young.

His weakness was his mother after all.

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{[ Taisho Secrets ]}

Kanjō wore Kyoujuro's cape and stood outside just to watch it flutter with the wind.

Was later caught by Senjuro....