I'm back and ngl y'all i have no idea how to write fights as you could tell in the Rengoku vs Akaza fight
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Quick warning ⚠ This chapter contains smoking to which I don't condone if you want to smoke go ahead if ya don't then you don't have to either way it's your choice and as literally EVERY school says smoking isn't cool ok back to the chapter.

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Regret

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I lay in bed knowing that what was most likely to be a nightmare awaiting me in the reality beyond this world.

It's been about a month since the Flame Pillar perished, Kyojiro Rengoku, the man I looked up to, the one who mostly shaped my moral code. My friend, if I dare say.

Though I can't really tell time anymore other than day and night, the each day has been blured until I can't even tell anymore.

Although for a while I was in denial that he was dead I've accepted that fact by now, even if it hurts like a sword through my heart.

Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and everyone else has been mourning as well.

They recovered much more quickly than I did.

Though I got little to no injuries on that train, the pain of his death feels like my heart was ripped out and crushed in front of my own eyes.

I could barely leave my bed for weeks often having to be reminded to eat or drink by someone, mostly Nakime and Rui, every once in a while it was Shinobu if she wasn't on a mission or tending to a injured slayer.

I finally started training again, was it five or three weeks ago? I can't seem to remember.

I finally close my eyes, letting my exhausted body rest, waiting for the usual nightmares, even if I'm used to them I always wake up crying and scared like a child.

This time though, it was different. Instead of opening my eyes to see the train or Rengoku with a disappointed look on his face, telling me it was my fault without even saying it aloud. Or my family looking at me with a disgusted look. No.

This time I'm in a room, the sweet scent of lavender incense, I see many boxes beside the door tags that say it's from someone but I can't quite make out the name because of the small handwriting.

I somehow just realize I have control over my body instead of what normally happens to which I'm more of just a spectator than anything else.

I turn around to look at more of my surroundings to see a woman sitting in front of a vanity, she wore beautiful pure silk clothes that only someone of high establishment would wear, large hair pins with roses hanging from them.

From what I could tell she looked like an oiran.

"Are you just going to stand there and oogle at me or are you going to sit here and we can have a much needed conversation?" she looked at me through the reflection of the mirror and gestured to the spot beside her.

It wasn't a rude tone per say but she most definitely wasn't delighted either.

I sat down beside her and muttered a small apology and looked down.

She glanced at me and and took out two brown clay smoke pipes, lit both of them, and handed me one.

"I- I'm underaged" I told her quietly.

She she blew a some smoke away from me and looked at me with a blank stare.

"Well to you this whole situation is a figment of your imagination, although I certainly am not, this is a 'reality beyond this world' as some would put it. So knock yourself out if you so please." she stated, wait, what did she mean that she's real but the rest of this isn't?

I looked at the pipe and out of pure curiosity tried it even though I've never smoked before.

Immediately I started coughing a ton, even though this is a dream my throat starts to burn.

The woman seemed to be entertained by this but pats my back trying to help. Still holding back a laugh though.

"So you really aren't that much different from me after all huh?" she giggled.

After I finally regained my composure I asked her what she ment by that statement.

"Oh, right I should probably explain before I started lecturing you hm?" she hummed.

"Alright summary is, you reincarnated from me, or specifically one of my reincarnations. I was an oiran, fell in love, later became a demon by said love, and now I refuse to truly die until he's dead as well." she explained, it was blunt, serious and quick to the point.

Before I could ask any questions she moved on.

"Now that's done I'm gonna start with the whole lecture thing the others suggested which by the way be prepared for that in the later future from the others as well." she warned me.

"With all do respect this has gone out too far. No demon that want you dead is gonna feel bad for you just because your hero died. If you continue to go down this path of self pity and curling up in a ball in the dark than sooner or later you'll either end up dead or a lonly husk of a being."

She paused making sure I was paying attention and to smoke from her pipe. As I began to tear up she sighed and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, it felt true, like when my mother would hug me.

"I'm not saying you can't be sad or mourn his death but what I am saying is that you need to pick yourself up, also I've been watching your journey so far and they've noticed that in their opinion you need to stop being the therapist and put yourself out there. Stop being someone who's convenient to be around and be someone to look up to."

She paused once more. Took a puff of the clay pipe.

"That's what about six of seven of em' said personally me, I think those friends of yours are pretty cool especially that boar guy and the biwa girl. Also don't try to change your attitude about everything you've ever known about after this one conversation. One last thing by the way.. " she looked back at me

"Tell that Shinazagawa guy to piss off for me next time he gives you any sort of trouble." she smiled.

She looked away and we sat in silence for a good minute.

She sighed fairly loudly and muttered how she always hated lecturing kids

"Ok let's change the subject! What's something that you want answersed I might know." she queried.

I thought about it and wondered why I'm in this dream or is it even an actual dream?

Or should I ask something that would be more useful to corp?

She was a demon so maybe there's something that could help?

Or how does the afterlife work?

"Hmm, does the demon king have any specific weakness? Like is he allergic to peanuts or something? Oh! Who's this love you talked about? Orr what's it like to be a demon? OH, how does reincarnations work? Scratch that how does the afterlife work?-"

I didn't realize that I just asking a million questions and she stopped me for a second

"Ok slow down, slow down. Let's start with the first one. Oh boy,-" she mentally prepared herself and puffed her pipe, blowing out a ring of smoke.

"Woa how did you do that?" I asked yet another question.

"I'll teach you after the rest of the questions." she answered.

"No, Muzan doesn't have a peanut allergy good joke though. Just like any other demon he can't go into the sun. He also has a weakness to wisteria but it's a more physical contact thing."

She answered

"As for the second question, my love was the demon king."

The moment she said it I gave her a very confused look to which she most likely expected.

"Wait! Let me explain! And stop giving me that look!" she yelled, probably embarrassed or something along that line.

"The Demon King aka Muzan Kibutsuji was the man who turned me into a demon. He was also the man I fell in love with. In those years I was an oiran and he was just some random who wandered into the district, frankly I don't know how he didn't immediately realize he was in the red light district but whatever."

She slightly questioned.

"At that time he was human, he played the shasmin for money at the entrance of the district where the house I worked in was. He was kind and his songs sounded like a melody from the heavens. The moment we locked eyes we fell in love."

She reminisced, clearly those memories where nostalgic.

Just by the look in her eyes alone I could tell that she would like to go back to those days.

"He would play many songs but at the end of the night he would play a song for me at the end of the night. Made by him. In fact those many boxes at the door are mostly from him! He didn't have a lot of the money so he played music for a living to buy food and if he had any spare which he did almost every time, he would buy a gift."

She put her hand to her face trying to hide her blush.

"In fact I forged this small place with what little power I had after I died, here follow me." she suddenly got up and went to a door to the side of the vanity.

It led to a balcony and she leaned into the rail, looking to the people below.

"I usually come to this place for some sense of nostalgia, either that or the others are annoying me a little more than usual."

She lightly smiled, truly she must have liked the others for one reason or another but I guess they can get tiring as well.

I look down to the people below, they look more like an illusion than people really. They look slightly blurry except one.

A man with raven black hair, he was pale, and was holding a shasmin,

Muzan before he was a demon.

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Word count: 1743

Guess who's back, back, back, back again- missed y'all lol