Masaru woke up to fire. He jolted up after the fact, since, you know, being on fire isn't pleasant, and soon found that said fire was familiar. Nezuko's pink fire had burnt something on his arm...a restraint, perhaps? His wrists had rope burn.
By the time Masaru had gotten to his feet, Nezuko was already off, fighting against tendrils that seemed to have formed from.. the train? Masarus hand went to his side, where he pulled his sword out, facing the threat in front of him. The train itself was malformed and disguising, but more importantly, The people. All of the surrounding passengers were asleep or in some form of half-awareness. Masaru couldn't hesitate, or they'd lose lives.
He pulled his sword from its sheath and slashed at the strange tendrils, cutting as many as he could. As he sliced through row after row of the things, he noticed a commotion from somewhere outside the train. It seemed that his friends were trying to kill the train-demon. He turned his attention back to the fighting.
Masaru was no genius, but he wasn't stupid either. Wind breathing was known for its power, and that was a disadvantage to Masaru here, because his breath styles, besides the first, took up a lot of energy into one slash, which was particularly limiting in a battle where the deciding factor is endurance. Masaru needed to keep up the pace, which meant that using powerful slashes was just draining him of his power.
He was tired by the fire minute mark, and exhausted by the ten, however, the good news was that the others were around. By the time the dream demon was finally slain, most of the people had been evacuated. Masaru was tired...but he still had a lot of energy. It was an odd feeling.
He watched slowly as the strange muck encapsulating the train started withering away. Masaru picked up what seemed to be the final survivor, a woman who seemed somehow familiar, and left through one of the windows. He placed her down with some of the other passengers, and ran towards the front of the train, where he could hear the panicked voices of his friends. He drew his sword. You could never be too prepared.
When he arrived, he was greeted to a flurry of clashing sword and limb. Masaru felt a shiver go up his spine as his eyes caught the demon Rengoku was fighting. Something about him was eerie, and powerful. Masaru hated it. His eyes briefly swept over his friends—Zenitsu was still pulling people out, Tanjiro looked injured but alive, and he didn't see Nezuko or Inosuke anywhere.
He walked a bit further towards the fight, and stopped where Tanjiro was. "Tanjiro. The fight?" He was looking as the two clashed in a fury of power. He responded frantically yet clearly on adrenaline alone. "They're...can't see a spot to get in..and Rengoku is losing! What..can we even do??"
Masaru looked back at the fight, it was true. Rengoku was an excellent swordsman, but he couldn't easily beat a demon at his level without regeneration. The dawn was approaching, and Masaru realized that what they needed most was time. Rengoku was injured, but not fatally. Not yet.
Masaru thought back to when Tanjiro had changed his form. He thought about the different techniques used by his friends—modified forms, or breath styles, considering Inosuke and his unique breathing style.
Yurei had taught him about each wind breathing form in detail. The wind was dangerous and spiked, hitting everything in its way. There was only one "defense" form, and that was one that made a whirlwind of attacks surrounding you. In fact.. there was only one he could think of that would give them the time and space needed.
Masaru thought about the winds he used—about the sharpness that was a natural part of the breathing.. could he dull it right? If he did this wrong, Rengoku wouldn't die by a well placed hit from a demon, but one from him. However...he looked back at the fight that looked to be taking a turn for the deadly, and knew he had to try. Masaru took a few deep breaths, and pulled off his hat, which he had remarkably not lost, placing onto Tanjiro. He could hear a distant call from him as he ran towards the battle, trying to perfect total concentration breathing like Kanao had taught him when they trained together.
He jumped as high as he could, plummeting down between the two men who were fighting right below him. He yelled out the words in tandem as the wind picked up and started to swirl around him. He forced his mind to calm. Masaru couldn't take any chances. Not when he knew that A slight mistake could cost him and Rengoku's lives.
The wind created a torrent, pushing the demon and Rengoku far away from each other, as far as he could manage. The two were perhaps a hundred yards away from each other now. Masaru knew it wasn't enough. Demons weren't exactly slow, but it was enough for him to prepare his next move. He was exhausted already but he couldn't hesitate. The demon looked surprised at his entrance, his eyes wide and his stance defensive. When his eyes met the demon, he noted the kanji in them. Upper three.
Masaru wouldn't survive a minute with him head on, that much was obvious. However, he had a suspicion. With the way Rui had reacted to him, he expected Akaza would be facing the same confusion about now—which Masaru was banking on. By the time he had finished taking a breather, the demon was in front of him, taking a swing. He jumped back, but he could feel the force from the blow itself bruising him.
"What. Are. You?"
The demon look furious yet somehow Masaru knew he was as confused as he'd hoped. The sun was rising, and Akaza was running out of time, and he'd never get to Rengoku with Masaru standing in the way.
Masaru grinned at the man, looking and feeling a lot more maniacal than usual. It was probably the utter exhaustion and fear, but he could no longer care.
"...I am god."
He laughed, and pulled together the last bit of himself to look up at the bewildered Uppermoon, releasing another wind style, slashing the demon backwards. The demon seemed unamused, taking the violent slashes and seeming relatively unaffected. He seemed unamused.
"Pathetic. To think you share a resemblance with him."
The demon spit out the words as he jumped forth towards Masaru, the demon's arm narrowly missing his stomach, instead hitting his hip—and there was pain and Masaru registered the sun starting to make shadows around them. He laughed, grinning at the demon who had pinned him down. "Times up."
The uppermoon knew it too—he ran into the forest as soon as he noticed. He heard Tanjiro faintly yelling at the fleeing demon, but he didn't care. He had done it. His stupid, idiotic plan had worked. Masaru was bleeding, exhausted, and probably a little unhinged but he had saved Rengoku.. right?
Masaru's consciousness was fading quickly—he felt a pressure on his hands and then there was nothing.
A/n: Where does the time go, man? Next chapter should be a prelude which in theory will be released before the end of April but y'know I'm not the most consistent writer ever. In other news I think this ever so slight cliffhanger might be worse then the procrastination problems, but you tell me? Should I keep Rengoku dead? Should I not? Will it really matter? Who knows! Thanks for reading this disasterpiece. <3
(Also Masaru was a badass in this chapter we love him for that )
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I'm not Muzan Kibutsuji!
FanfictionMasaru is tired. He's tired of demons trying to kill him. He's tired of people calling him a demon for his red eyes. He's also tired of getting confused for the king of demons so often. Who was Muzan, anyways, and why do people keep assuming he's th...
