ABYSS B
Chapter 1: The Silence That Survived
The night my village died, it didn't scream.
That was the first thing I noticed. No fire. No chaos. Just silence—thick, heavy, unnatural. I walked through streets where doors were open, bowls of food untouched, footsteps frozen mid-step. People stood where they fell, eyes wide, mouths open, like time had stopped and only I was allowed to move.
Blood didn't pool. It hung in the air, trembling.
At the center of the village, carved into the stone well, was a symbol glowing faintly purple. When I touched it, my lungs seized. My chest burned. Then—instinctively—I inhaled.
The air felt wrong. Cold. Empty.
Somewhere behind me, something whispered: "So it still works."
I turned.
A demon stood there, but it didn't attack. It bowed.
Chapter 2: The Demon Who Refused to Kill Me
Demons don't bow. They laugh. They taunt. They tear.
This one lowered its head like I was royalty—or a funeral.
"You survived the mark," it said calmly. "That's… unfortunate."
I grabbed a broken axe. My hands shook. My legs didn't move.
"You should be dead," the demon continued. "Everyone else was."
I screamed and charged.
It vanished.
That night, my breathing wouldn't return to normal. No matter how hard I tried, every inhale felt deeper than before—like I was pulling air from somewhere beneath the world.
And when I slept, I dreamed of falling into darkness that never ended.
Chapter 3: Giyu Tomioka Almost Kills Me
Three days later, I felt killing intent before I saw it.
A blade rested at my neck.
Giyu Tomioka stared at me with the coldest eyes I'd ever seen. "You smell like demons," he said. "But there's no blood."
I told him everything. The silence. The symbol. The bowing demon.
He listened. Then he listened to my breathing.
His expression changed.
"…That style shouldn't exist."
For a moment, his sword trembled. Not from fear—from hesitation.
Instead of killing me, he knocked me unconscious.
That decision would haunt the Demon Slayer Corps.
Chapter 4: Judgment of the Corps
I woke before the Master.
Hashira surrounded me like executioners. Shinobu smiled too sweetly. Sanemi looked ready to strike. Rengoku burned with curiosity.
Ubuyashiki Kagaya spoke softly:
"There was once a Breathing Style erased from history."
Silence.
"A style so destructive that its users didn't die in battle… they disappeared."
Their eyes locked on me.
"Abyss Breathing," the Master finished.
"And if the boy truly uses it—Muzan will come."
The verdict: Train me. Watch me.
If I lose control—kill me immediately.
Chapter 5: The Hashira Who Quit
My trainer was a man with one arm and dead eyes.
Former Hashira. Former legend.
He made me breathe once—and slammed me into the ground.
"Stop," he snarled. "That style eats people alive."
He told me the truth: Abyss Breathing wasn't based on water, flame, or wind. It mimicked nothingness. Each form erased part of the user—pain, emotion, memory.
Past users didn't scream when they died.
They simply stopped being.
I trained anyway.
Because every demon I sensed recoiled from my presence.
Chapter 6: First Mission — No Ash Left
My first mission should've been easy.
Lower-rank demon. Forest. Midnight.
I decapitated it cleanly.
It didn't regenerate.
It didn't burn.
It folded inward, collapsing like a shadow being crushed—and vanished completely. No ash. No residue.
The ground cracked beneath my feet.
Back at headquarters, silence followed me.
Far away, Muzan Kibutsuji screamed.
Chapter 7: The Demon Who Remembered
The bowing demon returned.
He was once a Hashira.
He turned himself into a demon to escape Abyss Breathing's final cost.
"You are walking toward an ending," he warned. "The final form doesn't kill demons."
"It kills origins."
Muzan didn't fear Nichirin blades.
He feared me.
Chapter 8: The Hashira Divide
The Hashira argued for days.
Weapon. Threat. Sacrifice.
Tanjiro spoke once:
"He smells like grief… not hatred."
That scared them more than rage ever could.
Upper Moons began to fall—not by battle, but by proximity. Regeneration slowed near me. Fear spread through demonkind.
Hell was remembering.
Chapter 9: Final Form — Abyss Breathing, Ninth
Using it felt like drowning forever.
My heartbeat vanished. My thoughts unraveled. Space bent inward.
Muzan tried to flee.
There was nowhere left to run.
He didn't die.
He unraveled—every cell failing to remember what it was.
Across Japan, demons collapsed simultaneously.
The curse ended.
Chapter 10: The Slayer Who Didn't Die
I didn't disappear.
I didn't age.
I didn't dream.
The Corps never spoke my name again.
Sometimes, demon slayers feel something clear the dark ahead of them—quietly, efficiently.
A breath without sound.
A style never meant to survive.