"Big sister? Big sister, are you okay?"
Tanjiro waved a hand in front of Chika's face. She was standing motionless, her head lowered, lost deep in thought. When she didn't react, his voice rose in panic.
"Big sis—!"
"Ah—don't yell so loud, my ears…"
Chika clamped a hand over his mouth and rubbed her ear with the other, grimacing slightly. She'd been so deep in thought that she'd completely forgotten Tanjiro was standing next to her.
"Come on," she said, straightening her back. "Let's regroup with everyone first."
Tanjiro nodded with relief. As long as his sister was fine, that was all that mattered.
Once the Mugen Train screeched to a halt, everyone gathered in one of the cars.
When Nezuko walked in holding her sword wreathed in burning Exploding Blood flames, the entire group froze.
"E-everyone, don't panic!" she said quickly, waving her hands. "The fire's mine!"
The others exhaled in unison.
Right—Nezuko was a demon, but a special one who neither feared the sun nor thirsted for blood.
A Blood Demon Art suited her perfectly.
Chika, however, was quietly astonished. So her Blood Demon Art awakened here…
That was actually a blessing—Exploding Blood was one of the most versatile techniques in existence.
Against demons, it burned their flesh; on a Nichirin Blade, it acted like a crimson blade, amplifying damage; and when used on humans, it could even purge demonic toxins.
A literal all-purpose divine skill.
Beside her, Rengoku Kyojuro studied the burning sword with sharp eyes. He didn't yet understand its nature, but he could tell—it was far more than a simple fire.
They rested and chatted briefly. The clean-up work wasn't their department anyway; someone else could deal with the wreckage.
Their job was simple: get hurt, fight hard, and move on.
But their brief calm shattered a second later.
Both Chika and Rengoku's expressions darkened.
Without a word, each grabbed the people beside them and leapt aside—just as the roof of the train car above exploded like it had been hit by artillery.
The shockwave split the entire car in half.
Smoke and debris filled the air. From within the swirling haze, a single figure stepped forward—
unhurried, confident, and suffused with killing intent.
There was no background music, of course—
but in Chika's mind, the ominous Akaza theme from the anime started playing anyway.
Oh no… not this track…
Her pulse quickened as the melody in her imagination grew louder—right on cue with the figure emerging from the smoke.
Akaza. Upper Moon Three. The Demon of Combat.
His hair was rose-pink, his eyes golden and predatory.
A maroon vest hung open over his bare torso, revealing intricate blue markings—tattoos that symbolized sin, painted across muscle like chains.
Chika had imagined many ways he might appear—
but dropping straight through the ceiling like a meteor was not one of them.
His gaze didn't even linger on her.
He looked past her—straight to Rengoku.
The demon's pupils gleamed with delight.
That fierce aura, that unshakable composure—
He'd found a warrior worth killing.
Akaza lived for strength.
He admired it, craved it… and despised weakness with equal passion.
"You're a Hashira, aren't you?" he said, smiling as he extended one hand.
"I can feel it—your aura is leagues beyond the rest.
Become a demon.
Train for a hundred, two hundred years!
I know you can grow strong enough to stand beside me!"
Rengoku's brow furrowed. His answer came without hesitation.
"To age… and to die… that is what makes human life precious. I have no desire for eternity.
And besides—what you said isn't quite right, is it?"
Akaza blinked. "Oh?"
"You said my aura is beyond everyone else's," Rengoku continued, his tone firm. "But that's not true."
Akaza turned his head ever so slightly—his eyes cutting toward Chika.
"…You meant her."
He tilted his head.
"Her aura's strong, I'll admit. Remarkable for a woman. But I don't kill women—and I don't eat them.
So, woman, if you have any sense, you'll leave now. I swear I won't chase you."
Chika gave a little wave. "That's very generous of you~"
A beat of silence.
"However," she added with a grin, "I refuse."
Her tone dropped—firm, almost metallic.
Her posture shifted from casual to razor-edged.
Even Tanjiro froze at the sudden change in atmosphere.
Chika smirked. "I've always wanted to use this line."
Rengoku blinked. Akaza raised an eyebrow.
Then she declared, voice ringing clear:
"One of my favorite things to do is to prove those who think they're stronger wrong!
Upper Moon Three, you'll regret those words soon enough."
Her Nichirin Blade burst into flames as she lunged forward, leaving a scorched trail behind her.
Akaza frowned, mildly annoyed but intrigued.
He stomped a foot—the ground beneath him glowing with a twelve-pointed sigil of ice-blue light.
"Technique Deployment: Destructive Death – Compass Needle!"
In an instant, the air around him trembled.
He could feel every thread of fighting spirit in motion—each pulse of intent in the radius around him.
When Chika's blade came slicing from behind—
he turned with effortless precision, slipping past it like wind around a cliff.
Under the Compass Needle, his body moved with absolute instinct.
The stronger his opponent's aura, the sharper his reactions.
Her sword carved only air.
Akaza sighed. "Such a waste. You're fast, but—"
He reached out to grab her collar, intending to fling her aside—
But before he could even touch her, Chika twisted backward in an almost inhuman dodge, narrowly evading his grasp.
"What—?!"
His eyes widened.
That reaction speed wasn't human.
He landed lightly several meters away, wary now, staring at her.
"What was that move? You… you are human, right?"
Chika turned, resting her blade on her shoulder, eyes glinting with mischief.
"Ahh, looks like we're the same kind of fighters after all…"
She tilted her head and smiled.
"Fellow Stand Users."
Akaza: ".........?"
Three massive question marks might as well have appeared over his head.