Arms of Amaterasu

II: Still Waterfalls

Their eyes stare at his back, staring at the groves of his orange and white checkered Kimono. It blew in the dewy wind, billowing of strands of silk that came undone as the wind blew hard.

The demon slayers stayed close: their hands had given out far too much to fully grasp their blade-he might attack-they were weak, too slow to attack-too exhausted to fight back.

….there are a hundred reasons. “Ugh,” Inosuke breathed in sharply as his swords dragged down behind him. Other than that small breath, he hadn't responded to much of any stimulation. Unable to overcome his fear.

Giyu was more well off, but his hands and legs shook incessantly. He could hold his sword no more than a child could a thick tree branch. He might as well be dead already, Tomioka is weak. And weakness is death.

Beside him stands Tanjirou, blood matted to his dirty and wood ridden hair. He smelled terrible. Looked even worse.

He'd stagger every few miles, keeping himself up with sheer will, it is inspiring…had they not been on the brink of death in the middle of a wheat filled far from anyone important.

Behind the Kamado, his sister and the yellow haired boy walked surrounded. Zenitsu held Nezuko's hand protectively, the demon had gone for her far more than he did the others.

Shoved his tongue down her—”smche,” Zenitsu smacks his teeth, his anger grows remembering yesterday’s events. Nezuko looked up at him concerned, Zenitsu sighed and shook his head. “It’s noth–”

“How far until,” the demon looked back. How blue eyes appeared bright beneath the cloudy covered sky. “The first village?” It asked, Zenitsu pulled Nezuko closer and glared at the boy as he turned to face them.

His eyes took the Hashira first, and then rolled to Tanjirou. Zenitsu looked down, Nezuko’s grip slacked slightly as she peered past her older brother. The Lightning Breather sneered, he did something to her.

And whatever it was, Zenitsu isn't a fan. “We are not familiar with this area,” Giyu gained his attention, “none of us have ever been out this far before.” The demon frowned.

“None of you?” He said, filled with suspicion, “for bugs, “you sure haven't traveled far.” Disgust hit them hard as the boy looked at Zenitsu, “you'll have to put her away, the sun, it's coming out.”

Zenitsu looked towards Tanjirou, “she was able to step in the su—”

“Was, that was then.” He spat, “the girl cannot step in the sun.” He smirked suddenly, a clawed finger scratched his lips as he smiled at Zenitsu. “Give ‘er back,” he licked his lips, “and I'll give her immunity for the rest of her life.”

Zenitsu’s teeth ground against each other, “nevermind.” Tanjirou slipped the newly wozen container down. Bamboo from the base of the mountain yesterday night.

The thick lid was untied and opened, he placed it in the ground. “She's more of an animal than she is a bug,” Nezuko shrunk down and got in. The demon chuckled, “take ‘er out when the going gets rough.” He mocked: Zenitsu tried to ignore him. “I'm assuming she's your sister.”

He said to Tanjirou, and then looked back at Zenitsu. “And you must be the parasitic barnacle leeching yourself to her wrist…like the little parasite you are.” It turned around, “but ‘o knows?” He laughed, “I'm not a parasite doctor.”

Laughing at his own joke.

And then it all got quiet again, a few minutes later, as the demon said it would: the sun came out. Heat sunk into their clothes, steam emitted from the water drawn clothes.