At night.
Outside the dark forest, the moon hangs low, throwing silver light over the tangled trees.
Ren and Miyuki are trudging along the forest's edge, scanning the shadows.
"Hajime-Sama," Miyuki calls, irritation dripping from every syllable, "I told you to keep an eye on him. And—surprise, he's lost again. As always."
Ren's tone stays maddeningly calm. "He was with us the whole time. Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished. He's probably still in the forest."
Miyuki stares at the endless stretch of dark woods. "You realize it took us hours to cross this place, right?"
She glances sideways at Ren, her expression deadpan. "So… should we just leave him behind?"
Ren's eyes widened. "What?!"
She shrugs, completely serious—or maybe not. "He's been lost more times than I can count, but somehow he always comes back. I say we save ourselves the trouble and let fate handle it."
"Still, we should check. What if this time he's actually in real danger?"
Miyuki folds her arms. "He walks around with the smug confidence of someone who thinks he's immortal—probably because of Jigen's curse. But fine…"
The two turn back toward the forest, their silhouettes swallowed by the darkness once again.
——————
In the dark forest.
Moonlight dripped through the tangled canopy like molten silver, pooling on the forest floor in trembling patches. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and the hiss of dying demons.
Steel flashed.
At the heart of the slaughter, a man in a green-and-cyan haori stood unshaken — each sweep of his blade casting fragments of light into the dark.
————
Ryosuke
Crystal Hashira
Age — 35
————
The final demon crumbled into ash. Silence began to return, broken only by ragged breaths.
"Ryosuke-San," one of the younger slayers said, voice tinged with relief, "no demon remains here. The mission is complete."
Ryosuke exhales slowly, his breath clouding in the cold night air. "Good. We move to the next location. Stay alert—"
But then it comes—
A sound.
Soft, deliberate, and impossibly melodic — the chiming of anklets, drifting through the air like a ghost of music. Each note hangs unnaturally long, as if the forest itself is holding its breath.
The squad turns, slowly, almost against their will.
She stepped into the moonlight.
It was as though the forest bent back to let her pass. The mist curled away from her feet. The wind stilled, as if in reverence.
Her gown is a surreal, gothic-victorian ball dress, dyed in the deepest black yet shimmering faintly with strange starlight. Every fold seems alive, whispering secrets as it sways. Her silver anklets chime with each graceful step, echoing in rhythms that feel older than the earth. Star-shaped earrings sway at her neck, glinting like shards of a frozen constellation.
Every step rang with the soft chime of her silver anklets. Her star-shaped earrings swayed like they carried pieces of a far-off cosmos. The ornaments at her wrists and neck seemed carved from moonlight and shadow.
Their eyes widened, their hearts skip a beat — in both fear and awe.
Her skin glowed with the cold fire of moonstone, her hair a flowing abyss bound into a perfect ponytail, long bangs framing her face with unearthly precision. Eyes of crystalline blue held the moonlight prisoner, and in their depths, something ancient stirred.
A crown rested upon her head — not of gold or silver, but of a material that defied mortal craft, as though it had been hammered from the bones of fallen stars.
And on her crimson lips, a faint, knowing smile.
Even Ryosuke, the Crystal Hashira, felt the weight of her presence pressing against his chest.
It was Eliza
But not in her usual, white robes.
The silence in the forest was suffocating.
The only sound was the faint, unearthly chime of her anklets… until Ryosuke's voice cut through like a crack of thunder.
"Don't get distracted." His words were low, almost a growl. "She's a demon."
Several of the younger slayers jolted as if waking from a dream. "D-Demon…?"
Ryosuke's eyes didn't leave her. "Perhaps the one we saw that day… Her face… it matches the old drawings. One of the ancients. Perhaps… even an Upper Moon."
Eliza's expression didn't change. She merely lifted one hand — elegant, unhurried, as if conducting an unseen orchestra.
Her lips parted. The word fell like a whisper into the void.
"Erase."
The forest seemed to bend with the sound, and reality itself rippled.
In a blink, the other slayers were gone. No cry, no flash, no trace of their bodies.
Ryosuke's breath caught. His knuckles tightened around the hilt of his sword. "W-What happened?!"
She tilted her head slightly, the silver crown glinting faintly in the moonlight. Her voice was as soft as falling snow — calm, serene.
"They are gone. Only you remain."
Her eyes met his, and for an instant he felt as though he was sinking into an ocean that had no bottom.
"W-Who are you…?" he demanded, his tone sharpened by fury.
She took one measured step forward. The chime of her anklets rang like the marking of a ritual.
"I am the Witch of Fate…"
Her smile was faint.
"…the Upper Moon Four. My name… is Eliza."
Ryosuke's brows knit together. His voice hardened. "An Upper Moon, huh…?"
Ryosuke moved first.
A blur of motion —
Steel drawn in a single heartbeat, his blade carving a trail of blue light through the darkness. The ground splintered beneath his step, the air itself hissing as he closed the gap.
The blade swept for her neck—
But Eliza was already gone.
A sidestep. Smooth, unhurried. Like drifting silk in the wind.
Her lips curved, not in mockery, but in a quiet amusement.
"Too slow."
Ryosuke landed in a low crouch, his blade angled before him, eyes locked on her.
"You can still run," she said, her voice warm, almost concerned. "Put your ego aside. I'm not in the habit of killing Hashira anymore."
His reply came like ice.
"No thanks. I don't take recommendations from demons."
Her smile deepened — faint, knowing.
"There are only eight Hashira left… and you are one of them. Do you truly wish to die?"
The words struck him. For a fraction of a second, his blade wavered.
How does she know…?
But he straightened, his eyes hard. "I promised Oyakata-sama I'd return after completing my mission. I won't face him empty-handed — even if he would forgive me."
In the same breath, he was on her again.
The strike came for her neck with killing intent, steel cutting the night in two—
Clang—
Her hand rose lazily.
One pale pink nail met the edge of his Nichirin blade… and stopped it cold.
Her azure eyes narrowed like a winter sky.
"This pride has killed Hashira before… humans… even demons. Yours will end the same way. Stupid human."
He broke free and attacked again — fast, furious, relentless. Strike after strike blurred into a storm of steel.
But Eliza's body was a dance of impossible grace.
She leaned, pivoted, stepped aside by inches — each movement measured, as if the battle was a waltz only she knew the rhythm to.
And all the while, her smile never faded.
——————
Somewhere else in the forest, Kasumi strolled along like he had all the time in the world.
His thoughts wandered lazily.
"Still lost… totally not my fault. I was walking right next to Hajime-san, minding my own business, when this bird caught my eye. Thought it might be some rare species. Nope. Just a sparrow."
He sighed, kicking a twig.
"And when I turned back—poof. Hajime-san and Miyuki-san had vanished. Honestly, they should know better than to leave me unattended."
That's when a gust of wind roared from somewhere ahead, ruffling his hair and nearly stealing his scarf.
Kasumi froze. "Uh… okay, that didn't sound like 'peaceful forest breeze.'"
Another gust — stronger this time, carrying a faint whooshing rhythm.
Kasumi squinted toward the sound.
"Could be danger. Could be adventure. Could also be an angry raccoon with a fan."
Curiosity got the better of him. Adjusting his sword at his hip, he began tiptoeing toward the source, muttering,
"If I die, it's your fault, sparrow."
Meanwhile—
Ryosuke's attacks blur into streaks of light, his movements shredding the air.
In an instant, he's behind her, katana gleaming with an icy radiance.
"CRYSTAL BREATHING, FOURTH FORM: ICEBERG POLARON!"
The blade arcs for her neck—
Clink.
Two delicate fingers stop the edge cold without her even turning her head.
A single, mocking glance over her shoulder—then—
CRACK!
The sword snaps like glass, shards scattering in the moonlight.
Ryosuke's eyes flare in disbelief, but his body moves before his mind can catch up.
He snatches her wrist, spins her to face him, and drives a crushing kick straight toward her temple.
Thud.
She doesn't flinch. Doesn't even sway.
His kick dies mid-impact, as if striking the side of a mountain made of starlight.
Her voice lowers, quiet enough to make the trees lean in to hear.
"I don't like being touched. You shouldn't have done that…"
She moves her fist—slowly, almost lazily—yet the world bends around it, leaves spiraling toward her knuckles as if drawn by gravity.
Then—
BOOM.
The forest convulses. The ground ripples outward like water under a dropped stone. Ryosuke is flung away—not just thrown, but erased from where he stood—his body vanishing in a streak of light before smashing into the cliffside.
Stone erupts into dust, rock faces split apart. Blood and limbs scatter across the ground.
Silence falls. Even the wind seems too afraid to return.
She turns away, walking as if nothing in the world could touch her—each step measured, calm, almost regal.
Then—
SLICE!
A flash of steel cuts through the darkness toward her back.
She tilts her head slightly. The blade misses, slicing only a single strand of her hair before she steps aside, unruffled.
A voice comes from behind.
"Long time no see, sis!"
Kasumi lands in a crouch, mist curling around him like ghostly ribbons.
Her lips curl upward.
"Oh my~ It's Matsunaga-kun… I wasn't expecting you. You've grown since the last time we met."
Kasumi squints at her.
"At first, I thought you were Jigen. What's with the… cosplay?"
She lifts her skirt slightly in mock courtesy, the gothic layers shimmering unnaturally.
"I'm trying out new fashion styles. Do I look good?"
"None of my business. Go and ask him."
She lets out a faux gasp.
"That's harsh…"
Her eyes narrow, glimmering with that otherworldly hue.
"Anyway… tell me, what brings you here?"
Kasumi slides one foot back, his blade already humming in the moonlight.
"Your death."
Mist gathers at his feet, twisting into shapes like coiling dragons.
"MIST BREATHING, FIRST FORM: LOW CLOUDS, DISTANT HAZE!"
He vanishes from sight—reappearing right in front of her, sword thrusting with enough speed to blur.
In a heartbeat, something shimmers in her hand—her divine pen, its sleek silver tip catching the moonlight.
CLASH!
The tip meets his sword's with a sharp chime, halting his strike effortlessly.
"Too bad…" she says sweetly. "After all these years, your first greeting is to attack me?"
Kasumi leaps back, boots skidding against the damp earth.
Tch… I still stand no chance, even after years of training. I have to stall her until Hajime-san arrives.
He rushes in again, blade flashing—
Ping.
Her pink nail taps the flat of his sword, stopping him mid-strike like she's swatting away a fly.
Her tone turns playful.
"Matsunaga-kun… can you repeat your brilliant plan for me?"
"W-What plan…?" he says, already sweating.
She tilts her head, smiling like she's telling a bedtime story.
"You know… your dumb little idea of sabotaging me, sneaking into the Infinity Castle, and killing every demon inside."
Kasumi freezes.
His expression darkens.