Dispassionate

25

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25) End of the Sparing Match

Sanemi looked at Tanjiro as the boy glared at him. Sanemi had to admit, they were beating each other's asses. This wasn't even training or sparing anymore. Just land a blow and take three of them.

Right now their actual swords were clashing, the sound of metal echoing throughout the room. The Hashira kept his chihuahua looking ass smile on the entire time. I mean his very, very charming and not psychotic smile.

The two had made several blows on each other with wooden swords and their own fists, but now this was intense. 'Try your hardest.' The man had said. Should he? The see through world would be him trying his hardest, but it nearly suffocates him.

It's fine.... He just needs to focus on his breathing this time.

☆彡

Is he zoning out again? This kids not cut out to be a Hashira after all. This is just a waste of time. "Hey—!" I got cut off as I tried to fend off a sword. His aura was suffocating, yet it's like he doesn't even have one.

I blocked it but he just kept attacking me. This kid is fast. To fast. I can't keep up! This isn't even sparing at this point!

I used my forearm to block a kick. I could feel his sword clash with mine, pushing it away slightly. What makes this worse is that he's managing to overpower me, even while he's recovering. Is this some type of sick joke?

This kid doesn't appear strong in any way. In fact, his eyes remind me of Tokito's when he doesn't find anything of importance.

Unfocused. It's like he's not paying attention or anything. And he's still managing to hand my ass to me?

I pulled my katana up to block his attack, then landed a direct punch to the face. He stumbled, before coming to attack me again. I held my katana in front of me, but he wasn't there in the next moment. I turned around and blocked another kick.

I punched his chest and he flew back and let his arm protect him from the floor. He rolled onto his stomach and stood back up. I shot towards him to clash with his sword, but I just struck air. I looked down. This kid is flexible too....

He took the chance of me being distracted he get away from me, kicking my back almost as hard as he could. I felt myself stumbled as I turned around a bit.

I grabbed his leg and threw him a good few feet away. He hit the wooden floor and I could hear him cough as he stood up.

He looked at me with nothing. No determination, or fear, or confidence. It was as if he was looking straight through me. I just stood there for a few seconds, processing what the fuck to do.

It's clear he's waiting for me to attack him again, or is he planning his attack? Whatever, think Sanemi!

He's inhumanly fast, like Uzui. He's quiet and calm like Tokito. He's almost as flexible as Kanroji, and every attack is nearly unpredictable. I stared at him, and noticed an attack point near his abdomen.

☆彡

I just stood there. I can't hold the transparent world up for much longer, it's getting to hard to focus on my breathing while I fight him. My breath keeps getting stuck in my throat. Everything is overwhelmingly hot and my mouth is dry.

I blinked and the moment I opened my eyes I was met with a hit directly in my gut. I flew back as I continued coughing, looking up at the man who was now a good distance from me. My eyes focused once again as I could actually see him, not the structure of muscles and bones.

His movements wouldn't be known to me. I'm going to lose. Do I even need to win this? He was panting and I was basically at my limit.

We're both leaving ourselves wide open. Any attack would defeat either of us.

Maybe I was too concentrated before, or I couldn't smell her, but I finally did. I glanced over to where h caught the scent of wisteria, and sure enough Kocho stood there, quietly watching us. Was this some sort of test?

Win. A voice echoed. He said to try your hardest, Tanjiro. It sounded like my father, somewhat. Should I? I'm tired and still recovering, and the only thing that got me here was the Transparent World. I can't win.

Try your hardest.

The man's words echoed in my head again. I tightened my grip on my katana and stood up, bringing it out in front of me. Try your hardest, treat him like a demon, and do not fail.

☆彡

He stood strong again, as if he was ready to take another hit. I could feel myself grinning again, so much that my face started to hurt. His eyes were more focused now. This is what I was looking for.

I ran over to him and kicked his chest, making him stammer, before he lunged forward, bringing sword down on mine, making me drop it.

Oh well, I wouldn't need it to beat him. I was about to chop his neck, when he once again vanished from my line of sight.

This motherfucker had ducked down, and was sweeping me under my feet. I felt my back his the ground as I groaned. I stared up at the kid, his sword pointed towards me. No points were open for me to attack.

I had lost.

He fucking beat me.

"Oh my, Shinazugawa! That's a nasty bruise! Should I ask him to apologize?" Kocho looked down at me from where I sat. I rubbed the blood off of my upper lip. My nose had started bleeding a few minutes after our little battle.

I looked at the drowsy kid who sat some feet away from me, probably littered in cuts and bruises as well. "No, Kocho. It was a fair match. Nobody needs to apologize."

"Hmm." She nodded her head in approval, smiling. "So, what do you think?" She asked me. I raised one of my eyebrows (bitch what eyebrows?) at her. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb." I wasn't but okay. "Do you think he has what it takes to be a Hashira?" She asked me in a more specified manner. I looked at her in semi annoyance.

"Tch, it's not my decision. A demon slayer is promoted to a Hashira after either neutralizing one of the Twelve Kizuki or defeat 50 demons while undergoing intense training. The only exception would be if a Hashira died or retired and Kinoe took their place."

"Okay, but do you?" She looked at me with expectancy. What the fuck does she want me to say? It's not my fucking decision.

"Answer."
"He has the potential."