Seiji vs Kokushibo

[Seiji's POV]

The forest stood in eerie silence, the air thick with a creeping, unnatural chill. Moonlight filtered through the tangle of branches above, casting long, jagged shadows that seemed to dance with every flicker of movement.

And move we did, relentlessly. I had never met someone who could hold a conversation with me before.

The Upper Moon One spoke the language of the body like me. Every shift of muscle was a word, each attack a sentence as we talked in a long winding conversation.

It started with immediate intensity, there was no build-up, no rise and fall of momentum. Perhaps perfection does not have a beginning, perhaps that was a flaw.

Fighting against Kokushibo was the most enlightening experience I ever had. I nearly forgot with my exceptional eyes but halfway through the fight, I realized I couldn't hear anything,

Indeed I was deaf.

There were six dimensions of movement, there was up and then down. There was left and then right. There was forward and then backwards. Kokushibo was a master of all these dimensions and he had an eye for each of them.

He had domain over everything. It felt suffocating,

Indeed I was drowning in space.

"HAAAAAAAAA.....HUUUUUUUUUU.....HAAAAAAAAAA.....HUUUUUUU..." My breath was like a man pulled out from an ocean. I, a breathing master, could barely breathe.

I put a hand over my chest, feeling the ache inside. I was so focused on the fight that I even forgot to breathe. There were so many other things to think about, so much other information for my brain to process that it slipped my mind I had to breathe.

"Is that it?" Kokushibo asked with his sword in hand.

My gaze locked onto the sword. It wasn't a blade - it was a nightmare given form. The katana seemed alive, its dark surface rippling with vein-like patterns of deep crimson as if blood flowed just beneath its skin.

An unblinking eye near the base of the blade stared at me, following every movement I made, sentient and unnerving. Each subtle throb of the sword's grotesque flesh resonated with Kokushibo's own breath, making the weapon feel less like an extension of his arm and more like a piece of his very being.

Our first exchange had gone by in a flash. There was no destruction around us, not even one leaf on the trees was disturbed. We exchanged blows perfectly.

I looked at the katana in my hand, my gaze lingered on its pink handle which reminded me of Mitsuri and her sweet smile. I was reminded of what I was fighting for.

That's right. Beyond just out of hate, I was fighting for something. I was not sure what but I was fighting for it.

"Don't relax, I'm just getting started," I said and as if believing my words, he nodded and got ready.

"..."

I fixed my breathing into a pattern once more and I inhaled sharply, making a whistling vibration in the air.

"Storm Breathing,"

My body groaned under my own strength as I gripped my sword with my left hand. I pushed through all that was trying to stop me land aunched towards Kokushibo, sparking another conversation.

"Third Form : Symphony of Thunder,"

My blade turned into twelve streaks of giant purple lighting that slammed at Kokushibo one after another. Each attack released a thunderous sound that shook the world.

The sounds of each thunder were also distinct, like the twelve notes octave. It gave off a reassuring vibration to my skin.

It was perhaps the strongest combination of attacks I had ever unleashed on an entity. But Kokushibo showed no panic nor fear.

"Moon Breathing : Eight Form," every swing of his sword left the air quivering, as though reality itself recoiled from the blade's presence.

"Moon Dragon Ringtail," 

Each of my twelve attacks and every streak of lighting that came along with it, was met with a massive arc of moon blades. It was unlike a normal clash of wind blades, there were smaller moon blades inside the arc of the moon blades.

The attack not only cuts through things but it shreds everything in the process. It was a cut inside a cut. The concept barely wrapped around my mind even as I witnessed it.

At last, our attack matched in intensity and died down into thin air.

My shoulder sagged in defeat but only for a moment before I blitzed at him with the utilization of Thunder Wind Breathing,

He responded in kind and moved along with me. He was able to match my speed while I was in my fastest form. We were a streak of light as we shot around the forest, unleashing destruction in our exchange of blows at last.

We were moving so fast that even a single step created a permanent crater on the ground. I ignored finess like Thunder Breathing and Wind Beathing was in their concept and became violence personified.

A small smile tugged at Kokushibo's lips, a hint of excitement at the battle but he was able to contain me all the same. He replied to every attack I threw at him.

I felt deaf in a fight with him. I couldn't communicate. He understood me but I didn't understand him. The fact that we were not equal sank deeper and deeper into my heart.

Kokushibo was comparable to Muzan in power with the latter maybe being a bit stronger in terms of raw power. But Kokushibo was leagues above him in skill.

For the first time in my life, I had been outclassed in terms of skill.

Kokushibo was my superior in both raw power and skill. I was absolutely no match for him.

..

No, even deeper than that. There was something more that made me so helpless against him. I didn't know what.

In a display of something extraordinary, Kokushibo predicted my movement and sliced open a deep wound in my abdomen. The slash ground the meat off my body, leaving a gaping line.

I knew it crystal clear how I was outmatched and how I was predicted. I was so very conscious about it and that made the defeat worse.

I stumbled on the ground, my momentum continued as I tumbled on the earth like a ragdool. I only stopped when my body crashed on one tree, sending splitters around as my body destroyed the thick trunk.

I lay there, unmoving and staring at the full moon as I slowly bled out from my wounds. Usually, I would have a longer time to enjoy my slice of life but this time the gods really fucked me over.

I could still feel Kokushibo's looming presence not far away from me. I did not even have to look to know where he was.

My only relief lay in the fact that I felt no killing intent or malice from him.

What a sad situation I found myself in. To be at the mercy of a demon once more.

But hey, at least I knew now why I was so outmatched.

I should not be so outclassed in terms of skill like this. And this was not arrogance speaking. The truth was that the ceiling of the concept of mastery was not high enough for us to be this far apart. I was at the very pinnacle of technique in my own right.

My eyes, although they were only two pairs against multiple, had never failed me before. The intensity in them would not submit to his demonic ones. I refused.

So there could only be one answer to this hopeless situation.

It was not me but the techniques I had perfected.

"You crazy bastard....just how much did you train to beat him?" I questioned while still lying on my back.

I knew the answer to that question.

He did everything.

He sacrificed everything.

...

It was an undeniable truth that I, including every demon slayer in history, was living on the legacy Yoriichi created. He invented not only the Sun Breathing but also the five major breathing styles.

Every other warrior that followed afterwards had been living through this legacy. You could say they gained power by walking at the footprints Yoriichi left behind.

Even I had done the same thing. Sure I invented mixed breathing but that was just a combination of the five major breathing styles. It was nothing new.

So here is the problem.

My current opponent was the bane of that. The entity that stood before me had turned his entire existence into a counter to that.

He was the nemesis of Yorichi and all his legacy.

You could say he was the Anti-Demon slayer. He was a counter to the power system of the Breathing style itself.

He had turned himself into such a being in an attempt to defeat his own brother.

So of course, he who dedicated his whole life to defeating Yoriichi would have no problem dealing with the weaker version which was me.

"Are you going to get back up?" he said as he walked across the forest.

Was that even a question?

"Just when my racism was fading too...." I pushed myself up once more, it was not my first time nor would it be my last.

"Water Breathing : Eleventh Form,"

"Living's Malice,"

..

..

..

[IMAGE]-

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Author : I was wrong. Its three chapters to complete the fight so this will be all for the week. I'll see you next week.

Thanks for reading and do give stones

A reminder that Seiji doesn't have his sword right now, is not activating his DSM and is still not fully recovered from his fight with Muzan