"So how was the fight?" I asked, arms crossed as I leaned against the balcony railing overlooking the now-settling amphitheater.
Sanemi groaned as he dropped onto a cushioned bench, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It wasn't a fight. It was a one-sided massacre." He looked at me with disbelief. "Like… what is he? He's huge, sure—but he moves like mist."
Rengoku, laughing even through the bruise forming on his jaw, chimed in, "Magnificent! It's been ages since I've felt this outmatched. His strikes were heavy but precise—like he was aiming to humble, not harm."
Muichiro, barely winded despite the chaos, stared thoughtfully at the floor. "I couldn't even follow all his movements. One moment he was still… The next, my blade was gone."
"He didn't even look serious," Giyu added quietly, nursing his forearm where his sword had been disarmed. "It was like we were just… testing his reflexes. Not fighting him."
Gyomei nodded in agreement. "His strength wasn't the most terrifying part. It was the restraint. That creature could have killed us all in less than a minute—and he chose not to."
Tengen Uzui, usually flamboyant, looked surprisingly subdued. "I've fought demons, things that moved fast. But I've never seen something that big move like a performer on stage—graceful and brutal in the same breath."
Obanai looked grumpy. "We never stood a chance. He reads us like books. No wasted energy."
I smirked. "Now you know what I meant when I said you'd enjoy the amphitheater."
Sanemi scoffed. "Enjoy isn't the word I'd use."
"You're still breathing," I said, "and he respects you for that."
Nezuko clapped her hands cheerfully from her seat beside Mitsuri. "That was amazing to watch!"
Aoi handed a cup of tea to Rengoku. "I was terrified the whole time. But... it was also beautiful."
Mitsuri, nestled beside me, nodded in agreement. "It was like watching a dance."
Behind me, the heavy, deliberate steps of Cocytus echoed across the amphitheater floor. His towering figure loomed, the mist from his cold aura swirling gently in his wake.
He approached slowly and began to lower himself into a bow.
"Don't bother, Cocytus," I said, stopping him mid-motion with a raised hand. "No need for formality."
He halted, straightened, and turned his attention to me. I gestured toward the group of Hashira, some still catching their breath, others sitting in thoughtful silence.
"So," I asked with curiosity, "what do you think of them?"
Cocytus turned his gaze toward the demon slayers, his expression unreadable behind his insectoid helm.
"They are weak," he said plainly, then paused. "But... their resolve is admirable. They do not flee from overwhelming odds. Their courage in the face of certain defeat, their ability to adapt mid-battle—these are traits of true warriors."
There was no malice in his tone. It was cold analysis wrapped in a rare thread of respect.
I nodded, pleased. "High praise, coming from you."
Cocytus gave a slight nod. "Given time and training, they may yet become worthy opponents."
The Hashira had heard every word. And instead of taking offense, many of them looked determined—like warriors who had found a new peak to climb.
•••
After that, it was lunchtime.
One by one, the groups that had previously split up began to return, gathering in the grand dining hall of Nazarick's 9th floor. The room was enormous—polished obsidian floors, golden chandeliers shaped like blooming lotuses, and a long table that looked like it could seat a royal court.
Servants had already prepared everything. Plates of steaming food lined the length of the table—roasted meats, exotic fruits, perfectly prepared fish, and dishes from all corners of the world. The scent alone was enough to silence even Inosuke's usual shouting.
"I've never seen food like this!" Zenitsu cried, eyes wide with awe. "Is this even edible for us humans?!"
Inosuke had already leapt into a seat and started stuffing his mouth. "Don't care—it's delicious!"
Tanjiro smiled politely. "It's incredible. Thank you for inviting us, Alex."
Ubuyashiki and his wife were seated at the far end, speaking softly, marveling at the order and elegance of the place. Their calm presence gave the whole group a grounding sense of peace.
The Hashira slowly filed in next—Sanemi was still wiping a cut on his cheek from the Cocytus fight, while Giyu said nothing, silently settling into his seat. Gyomei offered a soft prayer before eating. Uzui, of course, loudly declared, "Now this is flamboyant! Even the table's probably worth more than my entire estate!"
Shinobu arrived a moment later, holding a book she'd picked up from the Nazarick library, eyes sparkling with curiosity as she took her seat beside Aoi.
I sat at the head of the table. Mitsuri sat on my left, beaming, while Nezuko and Aoi were on my right, quietly chatting.
Renner had joined in as well—though she kept close to me, her gaze carefully watching the others. Clementine, in contrast, was grinning like a kid in a candy shop, clearly enjoying the atmosphere.
"Welcome, everyone," I said once we were all seated. "I hope the tour has been enjoyable so far. Consider this meal a celebration of peace… and of the new connections we've built."
There were murmurs of agreement, smiles shared, and the clinking of glasses as lunch began. For now, there was no war, no demons, no missions—just good food and unexpected friends breaking bread under the same roof.
~~~
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