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

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What had he done?

In a haze of sheer pain, confusion, a miasma of blood, black ice and cold steel, a demon with yellow hair smiled at him, leaning over his still alive corpse, slitted eyes hungering for his suffering as she tore out the vocal cords in his throat. Even when he was supposed to be dead, he still lived, and it hurt even more.

Why had he done that?

A brief respite from the pain before demon blood slowly began to fill his veins. Her spirit, her blood demon art summoned from the sheer amount of her blood being exposed to him, to the room, was enough to enable her to speak to him, if not only a few brief words. Numb his pain she had, but not without a cost.

He should have seen that it was a way to coerce him into making a contract with her.

Without his blade, and knowing that he was supposed to be dead, no one would come for him. Neither of the demons seemed to be intent on letting him die, so he made the next best choice he could. To avoid turning into a weapon against the Corps, by joining forces with a demon, regardless of the cost.

"There's no point regretting now, Hashira. What's done has been done. Nobu's revival was an unfortunate scenario, which has hindered the more physical aspects of our contract, but there are other ways you can fulfil it."

Kyojuro did not know if he should feel relieved or not. A demon's regeneration would certainly help him survive, but with most of her blood spilled, and not enough energy to regenerate any new limbs without consuming human flesh, they could not heal. He could die a human, there was a very much big possibility of death hanging in the air, but she had mentioned other ways of fulfilling this. He...he had to honour his end of the contract, even if it was with a demon.

"What do I have to do?" He spoke, as she looked at him.

"You currently don't have anything you can do to help yourself at this point of time. Accept my memories while you have the time to," She spoke, as she held her hand out to him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Just like that?" He didn't know she could be that civil. She was insulted at that thought, as she shot him a cold glare, informing him that she was still able to read his thoughts, seeing how they shared the same pool of memories.

"It will be like slipping into a dream."

He took her hand.

A dream.

He opened his eyes to find himself kneeling on the ground, within a large, ornate room covered with low, glowing lanterns, rich, lavish silk padding the ground, the colour of gold and silver, speaking of luxury, elegance, and pride. A strange heat clung to the walls of the room, radiating from the being before them.

There were two other individuals in the room.

"Rise," A commanding voice spoke, so powerful that it resonated through his bones, as he looked up to the eyes of Kibutsuji Muzan. He wore a black coloured yukata with the patterns of swirling, patterned leaves so intricate that there was no end nor was there a beginning, and his presence was so, suffocatingly heavy even with their own current abilities.

His plum red slitted eyes glanced and scrutinised each and everyone of them, as he stood up, as did the other demon in the room. He was a demon with on, spiky black hair, tied up in a ponytail which hung down past his waist. The tips of his black hair were a crimson orange, with red markings resembling flames seen on his face and neck.

Wearing a purple and black patterned kimono and black hakamata pants tied with a white cloth around his waist, the hilt of his sword consisted of a long row of demon eyes which seemed to blink at her. This demon, he was strong. A swordsman, and she could feel a different type of pressure radiating off of him as compared to their lord. It was the gaze of the moon, cold, casting, its light mocking travellers in the dead of the night. Enveloping all around it, he was a moonlight swordsman who would slaughter all in his way.