"Good afternoon, everyone. The weather's so nice today—the sun is warm, and the breeze is fresh."
Though his eyes were clouded with near-blindness, Ubuyashiki Kagaya still stood tall, as steadfast as a plum blossom blooming in the heart of winter.
"It's been less than half a year since our last Hashira meeting, but I'm truly grateful that all of you could answer my summons and gather here today."
At Kagaya's appearance, every Hashira instinctively dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in respect.
Even Sanemi Shinazugawa, so ferocious just moments ago, now knelt quietly and greeted him with deference.
"Oyakata-sama, may you enjoy good health. We are most relieved, and we pray for your continued well-being."
"Thank you, Sanemi."
The moment Kagaya appeared, Nightingale recognized him immediately.
He was often described as possessing both the charisma of a leader and the warmth of a wise mentor—an exceptional judge of character who valued every subordinate. Even the roughest personalities, like Sanemi, respected him as they would their own father.
Especially in contrast to Kimetsu no Yaiba's true villain, Kibutsuji Muzan, Kagaya's presence was all the more compelling.
She'd seen him many times through a screen, but meeting him in person made those qualities even more striking.
Yet, what Nightingale couldn't ignore was something else altogether.
Strangeness. Decay. Revulsion… Like a venomous insect perched on a fragrant plum blossom, oozing noxious filth.
Nightingale knew exactly why Kanae had spent the whole walk here warning her again and again: Don't act rashly. Think before you move. If it can wait, wait until after the meeting.
Nightingale had agreed—after all, Ubuyashiki Kagaya's illness, while severe, had let him live another five years after this point in canon. She very much wanted to try treating him, but surely she could wait just a little longer.
That was her intention—right up until she met Kagaya in person.
Kanae miscalculated, and so did I.
Standing before her was a patient tormented by illness. Here, right in front of her, was a disease as vicious and stubborn as a curse.
How could any healer keep calm in the face of this?!
"Nightingale!"
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
While everyone else knelt, Nightingale alone remained standing. Instantly, every eye turned toward her, recognizing the change in her gaze and her aura.
The first voice—anxious—came from Kanae. The second, all fury, was from Sanemi.
His sword flashed out of its sheath in a split second. The wind howled, blades of air slashing in his wake, a hurricane's worth of killing intent ready to shred everything in its path.
The blade's arc was sharp as lightning, splitting the air with a piercing, almost draconic shriek.
[Wind Breathing, Second Form: Claws-Purifying Wind]
He felt the resistance vanish as his slash cut cleanly through Nightingale's silhouette—Sanemi's expression shifted instantly, twisting in shock as he snapped his gaze toward Kagaya.
Because, in the moment of the attack, Nightingale's coat fluttered gently as she landed before Ubuyashiki Kagaya, her crimson eyes meeting his.
"Unacceptable…"
Even from her voice, it was obvious she was struggling to contain herself. "I cannot accept the existence of such an illness! I cannot accept such suffering in this world! It must be treated! The patient's condition cannot wait another moment!"
"Oyakata-sama!!"
Now no one could stay calm.
Kanae buried her face in her hands, mortified, her grief audible in her muffled voice.
Help… I knew it, it happened anyway…
Gyomei's brows drew tight—clearly uncertain how to proceed.
"Get away…"
Veins bulged on Sanemi's forehead and neck as he barreled forward, savage wind darkening to black.
"Get away from Oyakata-sama, you bastard!!"
[Wind Breathing, Sixth Form: Black Wind Mountain Mist]
The whirlwind roared from behind Nightingale, aiming to tear her apart—its storming fangs expanded, shrieking to consume.
Suddenly, a wall of flame burst forth, crashing down and locking with the blackened wind. Scales of wind scattered, but could not breach the fire.
A cloak adorned with flames waved in the wind, reflected in Sanemi's bloodshot eyes.
Rengoku Kyojuro had stepped in, blocking Sanemi's blade.
For a moment, the world went still—the darkness of hatred blending into the wild wind.
Sanemi, lost in rage, didn't even think to ask why. He saw only betrayal in Rengoku's action.
At that moment, another figure slipped between fire and wind—a ghostly shadow, like a snake hidden in the grass, unseen until it struck.
[Serpent Breathing, Fifth Form: Slithering Serpent]
Obanai Iguro's sword danced with a chilling, snakelike fluidity, fangs bared toward Nightingale. Yet, at the very last instant, his blade froze, unable to advance.
Legs, waist, shoulders—Obanai channeled every bit of strength into his Nichirin Blade, but it was trapped in a vice-like grip, as if welded to her hand.
For a moment, Obanai felt as though he faced not a person, but an unscalable mountain.
"Disinfection is a must! Treatment is a must! Health is a must!"
Nightingale turned her crimson gaze on him—Obanai felt his shoulders sink under an invisible weight.
"Those unrelated to the treatment… step back!"
The next instant, the ground vanished from beneath Obanai.
Everyone felt a sudden gust whip past, and by the time they looked up, Obanai was already a distant dot on the horizon.
Until now, Sanemi and Obanai had two main suspicions: Nightingale's strength, and whether she posed a threat to Ubuyashiki Kagaya.
At least one of those doubts vanished forever.
Her actions stunned the entire gathering, but Nightingale herself seemed not to notice. She turned her attention back to Kagaya, her words heavy with unwavering will.
"Leave everything to me. I will cure you."
…
Obanai had been flung far, but she'd pulled her punch—he wasn't really hurt.
As a Hashira, a fall like that wouldn't even scratch him; besides, the surrounding woods provided plenty of cushion.
The only problem was that he'd landed so far away that even at full speed it took him some time to sprint back to the estate.
Worried for Oyakata-sama's safety, Obanai raced back with everything he had, using his Breathing Techniques without restraint.
But when he arrived, the once-elegant courtyard was a wreck.
Part of a cherry tree lay shattered, white walls had collapsed in places, and the stone courtyard was pitted with clear signs of battle.
Many familiar faces stood in the yard—except for Ubuyashiki Kagaya, Nightingale, and Sanemi.
Sanemi, he didn't care about. But Nightingale and Oyakata-sama missing? That was unacceptable.
Obanai drew his Nichirin Blade, his presence as cold as a white serpent, mismatched eyes gleaming with icy fury.
"You—where have you hidden Oyakata-sama?!"
"Namu Amida Butsu…"
Gyomei pressed his palms together. "Put your weapon down, Obanai. We are not your enemies. Let's sit and talk—clear up this misunderstanding…"
But his answer was a blade flashing toward his neck.
Rengoku had anticipated it, stepping in to intercept Obanai's furious strike.
"I have nothing to say to traitors like you!"
Obanai's mismatched eyes blazed with hatred, as if he'd burn everything to ashes. "Traitors!"
He broke away from Rengoku, both swordsmen moving with frightening precision—the clash was explosive.
[Serpent Breathing, Third Form: Coil Choke]
[Flame Breathing, Fourth Form: Blooming Flame Undulation]
Fire and serpent clashed in a blur, crimson blade churning flames skyward, the cold serpent weaving through, hissing in the fire. In a flash, they exchanged dozens of blows.
CLANG!
A shower of sparks exploded from the fierce clash of blades.
"Obanai! Fighting among Demon Slayers is forbidden!"
Rengoku's shout only fanned the flames of Obanai's anger.
"You have no right to call yourselves Demon Slayers!!"
Obanai exploded with strength even Rengoku hadn't expected, pressing his blade down and forcing Rengoku's sword into the ground. In the same instant, he twisted, the blade whistling past Rengoku's neck—a few strands of hair drifting down.
The cold brush of steel at his neck made Rengoku's eyes widen—Obanai's killing intent was sharp as ice. Rengoku instinctively lashed out with a kick, forcing Obanai back.
Obanai's brow furrowed, but years of training steadied him. He bent low, shifting his weight, blade angled, muscles tensed like springs.
Rengoku, sensing something from Obanai's stance, grew cautious, gripping his sword tighter.
Obanai now regarded everyone present as an enemy. If he was to save his master, he'd have to defeat—or kill—all of them.
He knew just how slim his chances were.
Even Rengoku alone was a match; though Kanae could no longer fight, Gyomei was here—strongest of the Hashira.
Most of all, there was that woman—a monster who'd tossed him aside like it was nothing.
He saw no hope of victory, but… running away had never crossed his mind.
Born into a family of scoundrels, everyone living off demon-tainted money, his kin would offer up their own children as sacrifices to demons. He himself had been chosen as such a sacrifice.
But he'd run away in fear, and as a result, his family had been slaughtered by the demon. When the demon was defeated, he found his only surviving sister—who slapped him and spat: "Because you ran, everyone else died. Fifty people dead—all your fault. If you'd just let yourself be eaten, this wouldn't have happened."
To Obanai, the blood in his veins was tainted. His cowardice had doomed his family; he was scum.
But Oyakata-sama—Ubuyashiki Kagaya—was different. He had once saved Obanai's life, and Obanai believed he would go on saving many more.
So—Obanai truly believed: this was a battle worth staking his worthless life on.
Rengoku's nerves screamed a warning, his whole body tense.
Obanai's overall skill might not have been the highest among the Hashira, but his desperation made him terrifying.
Rengoku braced himself, mind racing for a way through—when suddenly, all the tension vanished.
Obanai heard footsteps at close range—but hadn't sensed anyone's approach.
"Enough…"
Nightingale's eyes sharpened. With a simple, unadorned palm strike from above—
"Value your own life more!"
Obanai's raised blade snapped instantly under her hand; her palm struck his face, and Obanai's world went black.
What else could you expect from Head Nurse Nightingale—telling you to value your life while almost slapping you to death…
---
T/N: heh literal face slapping