Halfway Gone

Her fingers tightened over the fabric at her chest, as if gripping something unseen beneath it.

"Don't you have better things to do?"

Giyuu didn't answer her question.

Because no, he didn't have anything better to do.

Not when she was walking toward something she clearly didn't expect to return from. Not when she had that same look in her eyes—the one he had seen in too many slayers before. The kind that meant they weren't afraid to die. The kind that meant they were already halfway gone.

"Alright..."

She knew there's no running away from this.

He simply nodded.

She exhaled, looking away, fingers still clenched in her uniform. Something about her posture made it seem like she was holding herself together—like if she let go, even for a second, she might shatter.

But she didn't.

Instead, she finally met his gaze, her expression carefully neutral.

"Tonight."

Giyuu accepted this without a question. No protest, no hesitation. He would be there.

. . .

As she turned to leave, disappearing into the flow of slayers preparing for their own missions, Giyuu caught the faintest glimpse of something—a thin chain around her neck, barely visible beneath her uniform. A necklace.

A detail that didn't belong.

Because demon slayers don't carry things like that. Not unless they had a reason. A memory. A weight they refused to put down.

Giyuu didn't know what hers was yet.

But tonight, he intended to find out.

Next question is... Will he?

The night air was cold, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and distant rain. The only sounds were their quiet footsteps against the forest floor, the rustling of leaves in the wind, and the occasional distant chirp of nocturnal insects.

She followed behind him in silence, her periwinkle haori shifting with each step. Always keeping a careful distance. Always walking a half-step behind, as if to remind him that she wasn't here to walk alongside him.

Giyuu didn't look back. But he was aware of her presence. The steady rhythm of her breathing. The tension in her movements—not from exhaustion or fear, but from something else. Something heavier.

She had accepted his presence on this mission, but she hadn't accepted his reason for being here.

**Not yet**.

"*How far*?"

His voice was quiet but firm, cutting through the silence without breaking it.

She didn't hesitate.

"*Not much longer*."

A vague answer, but not dismissive.

The terrain grew rougher as they moved deeper into the forest. The trees thickened, casting long shadows beneath the moonlight. There was something about this place—something off.

It wasn't just the usual tension of approaching a demon's territory. It was her.

The way her posture stiffened. The way her fingers twitched slightly at her sides. The way she moved with purpose but carried something unspoken in her silence.

She knew this place.

She had been here before.

"*This isn't just a mission to you*."

Not a question. A fact.

She didn't respond right away.

Then—

"*Does it matter, Hashira-sama*?"

The same words she had thrown at him before. But this time, her voice was quieter. Less like a challenge. More like a defense.

Giyuu exhaled softly, but he didn't push.

**Because the truth would come soon enough**.

And when it did, **he would be there**.

Once they met a clearing.

"Wait here."

"You don't take orders from me." — "You said so."

... "This is not an order. More like..." — "A plea."

She took off her haori that she loves so dearly; Folds it. Placing it on a rock near them.

"Please stay here, Hashira-sama."

Her voice distant, cold, but softer than he ever heard.

She turned her back against him. Walking away.

Giyuu's gaze flickered to the haori she had left behind, neatly folded on the rock.

It was deliberate.

A silent message. A reassurance. A promise.

She was coming back.

But the fact that she had to leave that promise behind in the first place meant something else.

She wasn't sure if she would be able to.

His fingers curled slightly at his sides. He could stop her. He could demand to know what she was about to do, refuse to let her walk into whatever this was alone. But he didn't.

Because she had asked him to wait.

And for now, he would.

But he didn't sit. He didn't relax. He simply watched her retreating figure, his senses sharp, his body ready to move at any moment.

Because if she didn't come back—

He would go after her.

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