Heart Of Fire; Veins Of Ice | Kimetsu No Yaiba Fanfic (Kyojurou's POV)

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A/N: Some manga spoilers but I guess it's kind of unavoidable at this point of time...

Arctic Silver splintered into two large halves, where the small, microscopic and miniscule cracks accumulated into pressure points and grew as it enveloped the sword with every move of the sword they had made against the demon.

Nobu shook his head as he dusted off the small, dust like shards of ice from the sword's blade from his neck. It was as if he had known all along, and had simply waited for the two of them to wear their own weapon out.

The broken sword was heavy in his hands.

It was the only thing he could feel other than his own blood, her blood, both of their blood pouring out onto the snow.

Keep fighting.

Even with a broken sword, he, she, they would keep fighting.

Numerous thoughts raced through his mind, flirting from the idea of incompatibility, exhaustion, the possibility of decapitating Nobu's head with Arctic Silver's current state, how he could feel every metal rod lodges in his throat, cutting through his arteries, muscles, bones and organs.

But he wouldn't die.

Nothing would turn out the same way it did in his fight with Akaza.

It would not.

Pulling back Arctic Silver back to himself, he leapt far away from Nobu, nearly collapsing to his knees as he pushed the silver rods through his limbs, coating them thickly with his blood as he pulled and removed the bloody rods. The cold aided in numbing his pain, toning it down to a far more bearable sensation, but he could hear the sound of steel scraping against bone, muscles rubbing against the metal, the quickly evaporating warmth of his blood as his blood turned to ice.

Limbs failing.

Their blood across the snow.

Where heat once thrived, the cold consumed.

He coughs up blood, feeling the metallic liquid fill his lungs, throat and his mouth.

From his nose blood drips down, pooling at his feet and on his clothes as he forces his eyes open to watch his opponent.

Taking a step forward, she catches him as he nearly falls.

You've done enough.

She whispers in his ears, as he can feel her hands pulling him up, as she helps to adjust his grip on Arctic Silver.

No. He could keep fighting.

He could and he would.

He would -

He coughed up more blood, warm, steaming before they immediately froze in and solidified in the cold. Focus. Focus on the feeling, focus on his surroundings, take in every small movement, the minute changes of the wind, the air pressure, open up his senses. Focus on everything but the pain. Picture the image and the sensation of water on his skin. The wind was like the water which flowed over his skin. Any change, no matter how small, was like the water parting.

With the presence of any projectiles, it would part the air like cutting through water.

He wanted to keep fighting.

Forcing himself to stand, Kyojuro tightened his grip on the sword, as Nobu raised a hand, holding it out to him. He would burn the pain away. Force his limbs to move, because he wanted to live to return.

He took another step forward, as he felt her hands pushing and supporting him.

Ninth Style: Purgatory