Disclaimer: Demon Slayer is not mine. This fanfic is a translation.
Enjoy Reading!
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"It's moving!" Muichiro exclaimed as his eyes never left the porcelain pot that was shaking angrily.
Then, the pot stopped shaking.
"...What did you say?! You little brat!!"
With a slippery splat, a sound came from inside the pot.
Gyokko stretched out a small hand from the mouth of the pot and slowly crawled out, his tall and pale back glistening in the moonlight. His body wriggling out like a fish.
The slippery mucus dripped down his body, his stitched-on little hands clenched tight, his eyes bulging as his comically rageful face stared in the direction of the voices mocking him.
"Huh?"
"The pot I made... is ugly?!"
Gyokko uttered out through his gritted teeth. The veins on his hands bulged out twitchingly, the eyes growing in his teeth also constantly searching for the mortals who are courting death, their sclera turned red by his anger.
"You little bastard! Your eyes seem to have problems!!"
"Gyokko-sama's pots are art! You brainless mortals!!"
Gyokko pointed out the Tokito family in front of him. He glared so hard at Soichiro, it's a miracle his eyes haven't popped out of their sockets.
He didn't pay any attention to his objectives anymore nor the approaching reinforcement at his location. His focus now was on the father and his two sons for pissing him off.
The Tokito family in front of him were just ordinary humans in his eyes.
And the two brats who don't have appreciation for arts were just ten years old.
Not a threat!
Even if they are brats, the words they spoke were blasphemy and annoying! Simply unforgivable!
'...A pot! Turned them all into pots!'
Gyokko swayed as the thought solidified in his mind.
"Huh...?"
Yuichiro frowned as he stared at the amalgamation of a human being that is Gyokko. He unconsciously took a step back from the terrifying form of the demon. His hand instinctively reached for the sword at his waist.
"Wha-What is this...?"
This thing was even stranger than that six-eyed uncle!
'Is it normal to have a creature like this in this world? It can talk!' Yuichiro looked incredulous at the encounter and quickly pulled his brother behind him.
"Muichiro! Get away from that thing!"
"Ah, right!" Muichiro quickly hid behind his brother. He occasionally glanced back at Gyokko's form. For the first time, he felt fear on a primal level.
Muichiro hesitated for a bit, then he held his sword and peeked out from behind his brother.
"Brother, that... thing... is wriggling..." Muichiro said timidly.
His face scrunched up as he pursed his lips, and a look of distaste appeared in his eyes. "How disgusting."
That word seems like the last straw that broke the camel's back for Gyokko.
"Stinky brat!!"
Gyokko screamed with murderous rage. The veins on his face burst out as he stretched his hands out and suddenly produced a white pot from his flesh and blood.
He raised the pot above his head and threw it violently at the family.
"GO TO HELL!!"
Click!
Soichiro has been observing and comprehending Gyokko's appearance to see if it matched the description that Michikatsu-san described.
He gripped his sword and took in a deep breath.
Soichiro had no intention of wielding a blade against others, but Michikatsu had reassured him with one sentence.
—'What you fight is not a person, but a moving tree.'
Soichiro was so fascinated by the possibilities of seeing a moving tree that he immediately took his sword and set off.
But...
'Michikatsu-san...'
Soichiro's red eyes reflected the angry Gyokko in his throwing motion. He was disappointed.
'This... this isn't the moving tree, is it...?'
He turned his attention to looking at the guy running behind Gyokko.
Drap drap drap!!
A flurry of footsteps and rustling leaves was quickly heard by the people in the plain.
"Hiss—!"
A sound like a teapot boiling screeched out as Shinjuro arrived with vengeance. His legs were tense as he prepared to launch himself forward. His eyes locked in on Gyokko's tall figure.
'I made it!'
)—Flame Breathing First Form—(
)—Shiranui!—(
(tr. Unknowing Fire)
He turned the hand holding the hilt of his sword. Instantly, a dazzling flame burst out from the blade.
Swish!
The fire traced a beautiful path in the dark of the forest as Shinjuro rushed and stopped behind Gyokko.
With a firm step of his feet, Shinjuro planted himself and swung his Nichirin blade with power toward Gyokko's neck. The red flame was hot and ready to burn all in its path.
The sword quickly cut through the pot in Gyokko's hands and continued to slash toward his neck!
Clang!
As the slash cut the air without any obstruction, the sound of porcelain falling into the ground rang out behind Shinjuro.
"...That was close~!" Gyokko said mockingly, as if his life hadn't been flashed before his eyes.
"You almost cut me!" He waved his hand as he emerged from the pot.
However, before his surprised eyes, Gyokko's new pot suddenly cracked in his hands.
Crack!
The porcelain pot was shattered before Gyokko could make any sense of how and why; the pieces slipped from his hands and fell to the ground, making a crisp sound, and turned to dust.
"My pot!!" Gyokko screamed in surprise and covered both sides of his face with his small hands. His eyes couldn't believe what happened!
Ignoring the screaming Gyokko, Shinjuro placed himself between the Tokito family and the Upper Moon Four. His blade pointed and ready at the demon.
Shinjuro glanced at his back. "It's very dangerous here; you guys should leave quickly!" He ordered the father and sons sternly.
In his peripheral vision, Shinjuro caught the sight of the scabbard on Soichiro's waist.
He quickly moved his eyes to take in Yuichiro and Muichiro's figures and the swords they were holding.
"Are you members of the Corps?" Shinjuro frowned as his eyes still hadn't left the Tokito brothers' appearance. 'So young?'
In this era where the ban of swords has long been issued, the one who dares to carry swords on their person and is located near the Swordsmith village could only mean one thing.
Shinjuro subconsciously addresses them as members of the Demon Slayer Corps.
'Although I didn't have knowledge of them stationed here, considering my decadent time...'
Shinjuro shook his head and focused on the present.
"You." Shinjuro addresses Soichiro.
"What rank are you?"
Hearing the question, Soichiro tilted his head at Shinjuro's back.
"Rank?" Hearing Soichiro's confused tone, Shinjuro's right eye twitched as he quickly asked another question. "How long have you been practicing your sword?"
"My sword?" Soichiro pulled up his sword from his waist. A contemplating expression dawned on his face as he thought about the question deeply.
"Probably..." His hand rested on his chin.
"...three weeks and a few days?"
Throb! 💢
"Don't ignore me!"
Gyokko was watching them exchange pleasantries while forgetting his existence. He instantly generated a pot from his palm again and threw it at Shinjuro.
Yuichiro, who never let his guard down, caught every movement that Gyokko made. His pupils shrank as he subconsciously gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
The next moment—
)—Moon Breathing First Form—(
)—Yamizuki - Yoi no Miya!—(
(tr. Dark Moon, Evening Palace)