𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 ; demon slayer

- 22. Fight

⨯⨯ WARNING ⨯⨯
this story WILL contain blood, violence, and murder!

if you are uncomfortable with any of the things above, do not read!

⨯⨯ NOTES ⨯⨯
I hate writing fight scenes.

༶•┈┈[ ]┈♛ ♛┈[ ]┈┈•༶

"HUH! This really pisses me off. You're good-looking, you have three wives, and on top of that, you're full of swagger." Gyutaro scowls at Tengen who stares back at him.

"You're different, aren't you? You're not like any of the other hashira I've killed. You must've been special since the day you were born. A chosen talent, right? That makes me so jealous! I need you to die as soon as possible!" Gyutaro grins, leaning towards us.

"Talent?" Tengen smiles, veins appearing on his forehead out of anger. "Do I look like someone with any talent. If someone like me gives that impression you really are living a blessed life."

I sigh, holding my head in my hand as my other stays on my hip, still clutching my sword.

I do not get paid enough for this shit.

"You may be centuries old, but if you've stayed shut up inside a place like this... I guess you can't help being ignorant of the real world." Tengen says to them, making Daki scowl.

"What do you know about it?!" She hisses at him, eyes narrowing.

"I know, all right. But you have no clue, do you? See, this country is vast. It's teeming it's people who'd blow your mind." Tengen says to them, still grinning.

"Some are complete enigmas." Gyomei.

"Some can take up a sword and become a hashira in two months." Muichiro.

"Me, chosen? Don't give me that crap!" Tengen yells at Gyutaro.

"Just how many lives do you think I've let slip through my fingers until now?" Tengen glares at the two demon's as Gyutaro's frowns at him.

"Then how do you explain it? My blood sickles are drenched with deadly poison, yet you simply refuse to die!" Gyutaro hisses, scratching himself enough to draw blood.

"I come from a line of shinobu. I've been resistant, so poison doesn't work on me." Tengen explains with a frown in their direction.

"The shinobi were wiped out back during the edo period! Don't give us that crap!" Daki yells at him, glaring daggers.

"That's no lie. The shinobi exist. I had nine brothers and sisters. Seven of them died by the time I turned fifteen. Panicked by our clan's decline, my father, just like a man possessed, forced us to submit to brutal training, and the only survivors were myself and my brother, who was two years younger. My brother was exactly like my father, the same mindset, the same mannerisms as my father... his subordinates were pawns. His wives were expendable so long as they produced heirs. No one else ever had any say. Resolutely indifferent. And I... didn't want to become like him!" Tengen seems to look back on a memory, grinning confidently as his breath speeds up.

Gyutaro grins, tilting his head to the side as he starts to chuckle.

Oh god that's creepy as fuck.