She leapt down from the top of the tree with force and speed,
already forming a plan—
something that could buy her time until a Hashira arrived.
The Seventh is the weakest… if I'm not mistaken.
And if memory serves me right, the Swordsmith Village isn't that far from here.
Getting support from Mitsuri—she's there—would be perfect.
"Lui," she said sharply,
"deliver my request to any Hashira you find inside the Swordsmith Village.
If you can't locate one quickly, return to headquarters and inform Sanemi-san."
She issued the command to her crow,
which instantly changed its course toward the Swordsmith Village—
or rather, following the faint trace of Tokito's scent that had lingered on the horizon moments ago.
As she ran, worry etched across her face,
a sudden blast of air swept through the area.
It was unbearably hot—
hot enough to make breathing difficult.
This is going to be rough until someone arrives.
The moment she tried to enter,
the wind hurled her violently away from the village.
She crashed into a tree behind her,
a sharp pain tearing through her ribs.
She forced herself upright, her legs visibly shaking.
"What— I'm shaking? Damn it…"
The words slipped out in a whisper,
only then realizing her excitement had twisted into fear and tension.
And she couldn't blame herself—
everyone's lives were at stake.
I have to draw him away…
toward the village entrance.
She climbed the very tree she had slammed into moments earlier,
pulled an arrow from the quiver strapped to her back,
and set it against her bow.
After making sure the Upper Rank couldn't see her,
she released it with all her strength.
It pierced straight through his neck in an instant.
The scorching air ceased,
and she hastily dragged in a breath.
She leapt to the next tree before he could turn toward her,
continuing to rain arrows down at his head.
To an untrained eye, her shots might have seemed random—
but they were precise,
targeting every vital tissue in his neck that could lead to his death.
Yet he devoured them.
No—
he absorbed the arrows.
He turned toward the tree she stood on
and sliced it apart with a razor-sharp gust of wind—
something that could have severed her head in seconds without effort.
"His neck isn't as tough as I expected.
My arrows pierced it easily,"
she muttered as her feet hit the ground,
locking her gaze onto him,
forcing her trembling body to calm itself.
He was grotesque—
countless mouths, five ears,
and a single eye embedded in the center of his forehead.
"Disgusting… so what's the answer?"
He fixed his lone eye on her
and exhaled from the mouth beneath his chin.
The wind surged again—
this time twisting into a spiraling force of energy.
It seized her, crushing her lungs,
forcing her to choke.
Her bow slipped from her hand as her grip failed.
The pressure intensified,
burning through her chest
until breathing itself became a desperate wish.
Everything turned black.
Is this… the end?
I didn't buy time… I didn't do anything.
What I do is my responsibility… I trained hard—for revenge.
I just have to…
With immense difficulty, she grasped her sword
as numbness crept up her neck.
Her head threatened to fall forward—
but she refused to let it.
Clutching her blade with the last of her strength, she spoke:
"Moon Breathing, Second Form: Twin Crescent Strike."
She broke free and collapsed onto the ground,
dragging air into her lungs in ragged gasps.
"Damn it… that was close."
She wiped the blood spilling from her mouth
and looked up with a defiant, arrogant smile,
then charged at him—
reckless, fearless,
like someone who had already accepted death.
"Moon Breathing, Fifth Form: Final Light Arrows."
The strike was aimed to sever his neck—
but without warning,
the mouth beside his eye opened wide
and spat back the arrows he had swallowed.
"Shit!"
She twisted her stance instantly,
barely dodging the arrow aimed for her eye—
but her arm wasn't as lucky.
One of her own arrows pierced straight through it,
from the front of her shoulder to her back.
A strangled scream escaped her lips,
the pain sharp and searing deep within her arm.
The Seventh advanced, gripping her wounded arm
and lifting her off the ground.
She struggled with everything she had,
but he tightened his hold,
causing heavy bleeding.
She coughed up blood,
a strange pressure crushing her chest.
"This isn't the end… yet,"
she whispered,
swinging her legs up to kick his ear.
A scream erupted from the mouth positioned where his left eye should have been,
and a violent gust flung her far away.
She was airborne—
weightless, powerless—
waiting for the fall…
and for death.
I lied, Sanemi-san…
It's embarrassing to admit,
but it would've been amazing to see you here finishing him off.
She smiled upside down in the air,
a bitter smile meant only for herself,
as memories flooded her mind—
a relentless reel she couldn't stop.
"Ni-san, that's not fair!
You keep winning every time!"
"I'm just better. Not my fault you're weak, Ryo."
"Those days were nice…
full of your whining, Ryo."
"I didn't know how to give up."
"Even when I won, I kept playing—
until you finally beat me."
"Clover beat you! Look
I told you I could win!"
"I was childish enough to walk away in anger—
but your shouting pulled me back to my senses."
"Ni-san, will you really let me defeat you?
You—the one who never lost?
Let's go again."
"Ryo, you idiot…
Fine, then. I'm coming."
She opened her eyes as she fell into someone's arms.
She couldn't see who it was—
he stood before she could focus.
But what she could grasp was this:
a calm, piercing aura,
a barely audible, sarcastic voice,
and strands of green-tinted hair.
It was… Tokito-san.
I did it…
She smiled in her final moments of consciousness,
closed her eyes,
and gathered what little remained
of her scattered soul.