Chapter Text
Murata had been a very isolated man since he first became determined to join the demon slayer corps. He had zealously worked his whole youth, motivated by exterminating the demons that took his family from him. Rage scorched his veins just at the thought of demons outliving him.
Murata had found a new challenge, one that became a focal point in his life. Since he witnessed Giyuu, the boy he had kept safe during final selection, become a Hashira, his inspiration and determination to kill demons led him through his job as a Demon Slayer, motivating him to become a Hashira one day.
Though, that was of course a dream. Murata was a Kanoe, he had a long way to go before he even had the chance to be considered a powerful demon slayer.
He kicked at the gravel under his feet, picking up a pebble and knocking it a few feet before him. He sighed as his muscles relaxed, sore from the battle he had the night prior.
What a horrible mission. I’m so exhausted.
The heat excreted from the blazing sun piercing through the leaves, the intensity leaving Murata feeling a bit miserable as he wiped sweat from his forehead.
He groaned as he walked down the path, taking off his demon slayer corps jacket and rubbing it across his damp face, desperate to escape from the heat.
Murata jumped as he heard his crow scream, startled by the annoyingly loud voice.
“New mission details!!” Murata internally groaned, agitated to face another task so soon after such a strenuous mission.
Murata held his arm up, allowing his crow to perch on him as he spouted the information.
“You will be partnered with a kakushi meant to gain intel! There is no immediate danger—protect your partner!” He screeched at Murata.
“A partner?” He glanced at his crow a bit confused. “Why—?”
“Protect your part—!!!”
“Yeah, I got that!” Murata shouted back at his crow, angered at the unclear instructions. “Who is my partner—?!”
“That would be me.” A nasally voice spoke from behind Murata, causing him to jolt back in shock. A kakushi stood behind him, in the brush of the forest along the path he had been taking.
The kakushi had tired eyes and some small tufts of hair could be seen from under his mask. He stared at Murata, reading him so intently, as if he was an open book of a man.
“The f—?!” Murata screeched, taken aback. “Dude! You scared me!”
The kakushi stepped out of the foliage, brushing the bottom of his pant legs, cleaning it of the leaves and dirt that it had picked up. He glanced back up to Murata — his face blocked by his uniform mask.
“My name is Goto. I’m the Kakushi you’ll be accompanying.” He stood in front of Murata, who wore a strange expression as he took the new information.
He glanced down at the hand Goto had extended to him courteously.
Murata sighed, grasping his hand in a shake. “I’m Murata.”
“Your hands are very calloused.” Goto commented.
Murata looks at him strangely, then down at his own hand. “Yeah, I just got off a mission…”
Goto nodded dismissively and turned to look down the path. He stood silently before taking a step.
“We need to visit a village out west. Supposedly, there has been a large amount of people going missing.” Goto explained as Murata followed beside him. “It’s unclear whether or not there is demon activity. They just want me to confirm if it’s something the demon slayer corps should be concerned with. You won’t have much to do other than make sure I don’t die in the case a demon appears.” He spoke so robotically, with his nasally voice — it made Murata yawn.
Murata stared at the clouds as Goto explained — in a banal tone — their mission.
“I’ll be honest.” He broke the character that Murata had expected, causing him to turn and stare at the masked man. “I don’t think I need you to keep me safe. I’m perfectly capable. But, they insisted I have a demon slayer by my side.”
Murata hummed in understanding, attempting to read the kakushi’s eccentric behavior. “So what do you do? You just analyze the village?”
Goto made a strained sound as he thought. “More or less, I’m meant to determine if there is a threat, and if there is I have to figure out what to do about it.“ He sighed, almost as if he was constantly exhausted. “Depending on the work load, it shouldn’t take too long.”
Murata let out a defeated sigh, staring at the gravel below him.
In that moment, they both shared the same though.
Let’s just try to make this quick.
—
“No, I don’t think that’s the right way.” Goto scolded.
What an obnoxious voice. The demon slayer clenched his fist around the hilt of his sheathed blade.
“What?! You said it was west, right?” Murata felt his eyebrow twitch with some aggression.
“Yes.”
“West is this way.”
Goto huffed, turning and walking in a different direction.
“Hey!” Murata shouted after him, running up to walk beside him. “I’m telling you this is the wrong way.”
“I assure you it isn’t.”
Murata grinded his teeth with some frustration. “Goto, this path doesn’t take us to—“
Goto stopped, causing Murata to freeze as well as he looked forward. A village could be seen in the distance as Goto turned to lock eyes with Murata.
Despite the mask covering his visage, Murata knew he wore a stupid victorious grin.
“I told you it was this way.” Goto said with some sass. He continued walking.
Murata groaned and matched his footing with Goto, walking alongside him and muttering with scorn.
They continued walking down the path, exhaustion infiltrated them but they knew they’d have to hold on.
“You’re a Kanoe, right?” Goto asked after another beat, as if trying to start a conversation. The sun had begun to set, and the sky resembled a mix of orange and blue, like a koi fish swimming in a clear pond.
Murata snapped out of his daze and glanced over at his partner, thinking over the question with some suspicion.
“Yes. I am…”
Goto hummed a bit in understanding before finally speaking again.
“A Kakushi and a Kanoe. What a weird combination.”
—
Once they stepped foot in the village, a strange apprehension took over the two men. The village was tiny, homing barely 300 civilians.
Murata glanced around, noting the faces as they walked past.
Woman, man, woman, child, woman, child, man, woman, woman, woman, man, woman.
He dismissed his nerves and stayed by Goto’s side. Their appearance drawing in strange glances.
“We should find a place to stay the night. The sun will set soon.” Murata mentioned to Goto, his head turned as he locked eyes with a woman — malice dripping from each of her steps.
Murata felt a shiver travel up his spine at the eye contact, grimacing at the milieu he faced in the new territory.
Goto hummed as he took one final view of the small town, turning to walk into the forest with Murata.
“Setting up camp might be our best bet.” Goto stated, relaxing his tense shoulders as they left the lit village. “There is something off about this place.” He determined.
Murata nodded in agreement — a bit eagerly. “This village is freaky.” He searched the area for a good location to stay.
—
After they found a comfortable location, a good distance away from the village, they set up camp. Murata groaned as he finally laid down, enjoying the brief moment to unwind.
“We need food.” Goto grumbled, preparing a campfire. “I can go hunting if you want to set up the fire.”
Murata sat up, his hair ruffled a bit by his previous comfort. “No, it’s fine. I’ll go find something.”
Murata stood up and began trudging into the brush before hesitating, glancing back at Goto, who continued setting up the fire.
“Goto.” Goto turned his gaze to the kanoe, an unusual softness in his eyes. “Stay safe.”
Goto’s gaze dropped into one of a friendly annoyance. “I plan on it.” He waved him off as he created a spark against the dry leaves in his pile.
Murata rolled his eyes, returning to his path in the darkness of the forest.
As Goto heard the crunch the Murata’s footsteps dissipate with distance, he felt his shoulders tense with anxiety.
He pulled out a small knife — nichirin, of course — he kept hidden on his person, and placed it beside him.
As he cared for the flames, assisting them in growing, the overwhelming apprehension made his blood go cold every moment that passed.
He kept his attention on the flames, though finding it increasingly difficult as he felt like he was being stalked, as if he was prey.
Something is wrong.
He brought his hand down to his side, gripping at the blade.
Something is very wrong.
Goto jolted as he heard footsteps and the sound of brush moving from behind him, he turned, startled.
“Dammit, Murata—! I thought you were a—“
Goto felt his face lose all color as he stared at the demon before him, a lady who stared down at him with the most menacing expression he had ever faced.
Oh shit.
———