Chapter Text
Chapter 1: What a Horrible Day
Mitsuri Kanroji was really tired of having thick hair. Yes, she enjoyed having her pink and green locks in braids that almost touched her waist, but honestly, two braids would have sufficed. Three braids was simply too much, especially with the third one currently stuck to a particularly heinous tree branch.
“For the love of all things good!” Beautiful hair be damned, Mitsuri was about 2.5 seconds away from losing her ever loving shit. “Deep breaths, it's ok, hehe this is fine.” Unfortunately, the reassuring laughs were not doing their job.
If the current "damsel" in distress were to look up, she would see five rather grotesque demons sprinting towards her. Below her lay the disintegrating body of the sixth one. Not for the lack of trying, Mitsuri’s hair was so tangled in the branch that she could barely lift her head above her shoulders.
“This cannot be happening!” She grabbed her braid and gave it a tug. The branch gave no indication of its imminent movement. Another tug and a few more curses later, nothing. “Fine. Fuck the branch. I’ll take it with me.” A sharp snap filled the air as her sword swung behind her head, cutting cleanly through the tree's limb as she fell to her feet.
“Pft. You bastards are going to pay for this!” Mitsuri could feel the anger rising. She might have the breathing form of love, but that did not stop the ever increasing fire that was tightening in her chest. The only love she had in that moment was the love for killing useless vermin.
There were large bumps covering the red-grey skin of the demon that led the pack. Its jagged teeth had several missing slots, through which drool steadily dripped down. If the smell of its breath were a color, it would have been a repulsive green. The rest of the demons varied in size, shape, and color. The one to the left ran on all fours, its silver, scaled skin highlighting the bright yellow slits in its eyes. Its tongue swiped its lips as the claws of the beast dug into the soft ground with each stride.
The one to its right was a mix of multiple colors. On the top it was a milky white, which gradually blended into a dark purple: the color of a corpse. It reeked of death and decay. When a body first begins to decay, all the blood in the body gets pulled down by gravity. Whatever, or whoever, this demon had been must have had an unfortunate transformation.
The last two cautiously dragged behind their callous leaders. Really, they could have been considered one demon. It was a horrid sight, how human they looked. The demon was wide-set, with a broad chest and thick neck that diverged into two heads. Pulling themselves along by a shared set of upper limbs, they had two arms where their legs should have been.
Perhaps it was because of the odd set of arm-legs, but the two back limbs dragged along the roots and stumps of the forest. The right head had tears streaming down its checks, “It hurts, it hurts. Please, help me!” Its cries were buried beneath the malicious snarls of the left head, “So good, I can taste it all ready! Your blood, your brains! I’M GOING TO FEAST ON YOU! HAHAHAHA!”
“What the fuck.” Misturi had seen many demons in her time as a Demon Slayer. They had many different faces, but the one that crawled towards her stopped her in her tracks. Half of its body hid behind the three emboldened demons, the other half’s eyes bloodshot with the strain of attempting to surpass the others and, in the midst of it all, an odd feeling of remorse. Remorse that this thing, that had once been human–that still looked mostly human–would have to be struck down by her.
The demons circled her. It had been a long day, and Misturi wanted nothing more than to soak in the hot springs at the Swordsmith Village. I wonder if he will be there. I’d definitely love being with him a lot more than having a branch stuck in my hair and smelly demons surrounding me. The recent reports of demons had warranted a special visit by the Love Hashira to the Swordsmith Village.
She sighed, her shoulders deflating, “Well, I guess it can’t be helped.” Her head tilted to the side and she made eye contact with the faces of the combined demons. “This is out of love.” Her left leg swept behind her, both hands tightly holding her sword.
“Second form: Love Pangs!” Her blade sliced through the necks of both the silver scaled demon and the corpse-like monster before a single scream could leave their throats. “Oh for fucks sake, it smells horribl-ugh” There was bile making its way up her throat. The acidic taste caused her to lose focus for a split second.
“SON OF A BI-” From the outside, Mitsuri might have looked like a sweet and docile lady. Her breathing style, after all, was Love. But no matter the breathing style or how many times Rengoku tried to clean her mouth of foul language, the curse words flew without a care in the world.
The scene in the forest was most definitely a sight to behold. The red-grey, foul breath demon pulled the branch that was currently stuck in the hair of a mighty Hashira, while the double demon fought itself, one half hesitantly pulling away and the other desperately lunging forward.
“Third form: Catlove Shower!” Mitsuri flipped backwards over the demon slashing the arm that had a deathgrip on her new hair accessory. She unleashed a multitude of slices upon the pungent demon. “DIE MOTHER FUCKER!” Honestly, Mitsuri was an easy going person, and there were only a couple of things that greatly angered her: someone stealing her food and anyone, besides those she loved, touching her hair.
“What’s wrong? Can’t handle this much love? Ha! You really are worthless vermin.” Her right heeled foot rested on the decapitated head of the red-grey demon. The braid at the back of her head was in shambles; the branch even more twisted now. Aw man, I'm so not going to be able to get this out by myself.
“Please stop.”
“Shut your damn mouth!”
“But–”
“What did I tell you? Gods, I wish I had never been reborn with you! You useless, pathetic piece of–”
“You know, that’s not very nice to speak that way to others.” Mitsuri’s hands were clasped together next to her smiling face. Crouching down, she came to face level with the double demon. “Surely you can see how frightened this little one is! Hmm, can’t you?”
The double demon was a sight to behold. The two faces resembled one another. Undoubtedly, they must have been siblings.
“Nagh, who are you to speak? You just slaughtered our comrades with more profanities flying from your mouth than a sailor on a ship! Tsk, who are–” The angry head was interrupted.
“S-sorry, please don’t hurt me.” The head on the right pleaded without shame.
It was a pitiful sight, the demon(s) pulled this way and that. Its own body betrayed itself, each head having different feelings and emotions. This time Mitsuri’s throat tightened out of sadness and not anger. It really is a shame, what they’ve become. I wonder who they were before this.
“Shhh, it's okay. It’ll be over soon and then you can rest. How does that sound?” She rose to her feet, a smile still plastered to her face. “Were you siblings?” Mitsuri’s hand rested on the handle of her blade.
“W-we are-” The crying head was viciously headbutted by the angry one.
“As if I could ever share the same blood as you. I’m just unfortunate enough to be attached to you. But one of these days, I swear to our Maker, I’m gonna separate from you if I have to rip us apart with my teeth!”
“But, sister-”
“HA! You two are a funny little creature. If you remove her from your body will you run around on one leg and one arm? HA, that’s so stupid!” Cheerful giggles escaped her lips. She could barely contain herself; it had been a long day after all. A branch in her hair. Rancid smelling demons. A relentless ache between her shoulder blades. The list of grievances went on and on.
“Fuck you! I’m gonna kill you, bitch!” The left side of the creature lunged towards Mitsuri with enough force to propel its other half.
“HAHAHA! DIE! DIE! I’M GONNA SUCK THE BLOOD FROM YOUR EYES! DIE YOU WHOR–”
“Second Form: Love Pangs!” She exhaled and with a single swing took both heads at once.
“FUCK! YOU BITCH, YOU WHORE! NO NO NO!” The decapitated angry head rolled too close to Mitsuri’s feet for comfort.
“Man, that one sure was annoying.” She roughly kicked the screaming head into the surrounding trees.
In the wake of the fight, the other decapitated demon cried silently, “I didn’t want to die, please.” Regardless of how the Love Hashira might have felt, the pity she might have had for the crying demon, there was nothing to change the fact that it was a demon, and in the end, all demons must die. Well, all except Nezuko. She allowed herself to have sentimental feelings in that case.
“Ow, my head hurts.” Clutching her temple, she looked at the crying head one last time before turning and walking away. The farther away from the disintegrating bodies she got, the quieter it became. The branch swung behind her back as she dejectedly walked in the direction of the Swordsmith Village. Fuck this fucking branch.
It has been a long day and the sun was finally beginning to set. A soft breeze danced through the tree tops as she made her way to the Swordsmith Village. Mitsuri was in desperate need of food and, most importantly, a bath.