(kny!var x gn!reader)
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍.
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, l/n y/n is taken in by the stone hashira and trains to become someone like him - one of the best swordsman the corps has while trying to find out...
❝ oh, we'll be looking for sunlight or the headlights 'till our wide eyes burn blind we'll be lacing the same shoes that we've worn through to the bottom of the line. ❞
- roman holiday, halsey.
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[enjoyed writing this chapter hehe. it's been in my mind for a while. :)
also, updates for next few weeks will be extra slow. im housing a friend for a week and a bit starting sunday, then the day after they leave, i'll be going on holiday and won't be back till early july. i'll be bringing my laptop so i may be able to write a chapter or two whilst im chilling! :>]
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━
Y/N didn't know how long this fight had been going on... ten minutes? Twenty? Hours?
All they could feel were the cuts along their body, the slash on their neck burning from being irritated with sweat and blood, sweat dripping down their forehead and neck.
With each push, Kokushibo was putting more and more strength into the attacks and it was getting harder to defend against him.
In all the times the red-haired demon had attacked them, they hadn't even done half as much damage to him as he had done to them.
It was a losing battle.
They could barely get a second rest from the onslaught, each slash of his elongated blade creating injuries upon injuries. Each breath was short but rhythmic. They could taste the metallic blood and the salty sweat that had dripped down on to their teeth, their lips. The ear-piercing sound of swords clanking together. The shredding of trees breaking.
But even sustaining all these injuries... the fact that they were alive, even with Kokushibo using his breathing technique.
It showed that they had grown. Improved.
But it still wasn't enough. No. Not for Kokushibo. Not for themself, either.
They wanted to show just how much they've grown since he last trained them. Show him just who he, Akaza and Yoriichi had created.
Show him that they weren't some weak, useless, pathetic nobody that sacrifices their body to save others without thought. That they were a Hashira for a reason.
"You can do it, Y/N-san." The familiar timber of Yoriichi's voice calmed their nerves wholly. "Remember what we practiced. Trust in yourself and your blade."
"Moon Breathing, First Form: Dark Moon, Evening Palace."
Just as he had finished his sentence, Y/N could feel the demon's sword slice through their clothed left arm, deep enough to be considered a severe injury - one that would speed up the blood-loss of their already weakened body.
