Selective and private rp blog for KYOJURO RENGOKU from DEMON SLAYER: KIMETSU NO YAIBA.

                                 GUIDELINES && ABOUT (WIP)

                                       Luna | 26 | she/her | EST 2022

&& his first instinct is to bolt in front of the demon, to pull his blade in one fluid motion. That doesn't happen, but instead of the expected tearing teeth or hands breaking bone, Kyojuro instead finds himself caged within a set of massive arms.

" I— Do you... need something? "

HE  TRIES  TO  PRETEND  HE'S  NOT  SOFTENING,   pink brows turning up at the middle in shame as he averts his gaze.     it’s hard to see kyojuro looking so  vulnerable  & not do something about it,  which perhaps bothers him more than anything else :why  is  he  suddenly  feeling  so  many  of  these  human  emotions?

it’s not like him to … care.

he cracks far more easily than he expects.     silently the demon drops from the tree & into the grass,  where he crouches before the hashira & bends to look into his eyes,  his own gaze guarded.

“  … kyojuro.  ”

a slow,  lazy,  almost  predatory  blink is offered as inked fingers touch the underside of kyojuro’s chin to tilt it up a bit.

“  i’m not  testing  you or anything,  & he didn’t tell me to say shit :    he doesn’t know that i come out here,  y'know.     & i don’t plan on lettin’ him find that out.  ”

which is,  of course,  nearly  impossible:    kibutsuji will  EVENTUALLY  FIGURE  THEM  OUT.     the crescent moon can only run from his gaze for  so  long,   after all.     akaza regards him quietly for a moment,  his expression unreadable & his posture tense  —  he’s trying to gauge kyojuro’s honesty,  even though he knows that he  DOESN'T  HAVE  TO.     the flame pillar has  never  tried to deceive him.

“  … this is really what you want,  then.     not ‘cuz you hit your head or 'cuz i fucked you up or something.  ”

His cheeks are still alight with the flames of guilt, his singular gaze turning to become more interested in the grass in front of him. It hurts to hear those words- they sting him to the very core of his being but the soft sound of feet landing distract him if only temporarily.

Oh how Kyojuro wanted to SOB as he looks in those gilded eyes. He can hear Akaza- but the words are but an echo alongside his worried thoughts. 

“Then why are you saying these things?” he asks into the space between them. Kyojuro so desperately wants to close that space, to pull his demon into his arms but he knows that look on Akaza’s face and it puts a little FEAR into him.

Hard not to be afraid of the thing that almost killed you.

WHERE  DO  YOU  DESERVE  TO  BE  KISSED ?

knuckles

it feels as though you have fought every day of your life. sometimes, you cannot even tell how much of the blood on your hands is your own... and how much comes from those who've tried to hurt those you defend. you deserve the gentleness of a kiss to your bruised knuckles and broken skin, a reminder that you are not only made of violence.

⇒ Lyric wasn’t as focused on speed as they were efficiency of the matter—run all you like but if you can’t take a hit you’ll just be a glass cannon at the end of the day. Durability was more important, in their opinion; so they took hits without flinching, and they struck rock with no wince even if they could feel the crushed sections of their knuckles and cartilage when they squeezed a fist. Though their knowledge is still vague, Lyric understands a bit more now why there were so many breathing styles: it was just as important to make something your own as it was to learn its roots. ( they can see the red edges of his haori in their vision when he comes closer. for some reason, it makes them twice shy in his proximity. )

“Now I can’t trust my eyes either? I mean, I already kind of knew that, but geeze…”

⇒ They hesitate. Keep their palm just out of his reach in an isolated habit before slowly relaxing and giving him their hand, reddened scuffed skin pricked with little pinholes of blood, but nothing any worse than what their own action warranted. Despite that thought that everything they get is what’s coming to them, his hand is warm.

“…It’s fine. I’ve busted something way worse than this and worked through it.”

"If you think I'm fast, wait until you spar with Tengen. Not even I can keep up with him!"

&& Kyojuro is so gentle as he reached for their palm. His hands were big and kind of calloused and scuffed too, from years of hard work and training. After gently inspecting their rapidly swelling knuckles, the hashira frowns.

"We need to take you to see Shinobu. Just because you have doesn't mean you deserve to suffer."

Unprompted || Always welcome!!

" Oh. " A flutter of golden fan alerts one to their presence, its sharp gilding catching the moonlight's glow. Then, an innocent, bubbly chuckle spills from his lips, hidden beneath the fan. Only a pair of prismatic eyes remains exposed. " - Pft-tee hee hee... I'm sorry. "

The weapon lowers, revealing his fanged grin. "I just had to see what all the fuss was about."

It's the arrival of that mist that has the hashira's head whipping around to face his assailant. He might be one less and eye and still healing from prior injuries but that doesn't make Kyojuro any less aware of his surroundings.

The chill surrounding him is nothing compared the startling clack and fluttering of that fan that almost makes him jump, ember gaze immediately settling into something that is SMOLDERING the second those fangs reveal this stranger's true identity.