Super sorry for my Hiatus!! I've been procrastinating writing for a bit. And very unmotivated thanks to school aha :"(

Has anoyone seen the new kny episode? I saw it in cinemas and it was SO COOL!!! I'd love to talk to you guys about it on DM's :D

SPOILERS?!!!!

One thing I realised tho, THE SENGOKU PERIOD HASHIRAS WHERE REVEALED?!

AND THEIR MARKS.

MICHIKATSU'S MARK WAS ANIMATED

MWAH HA HAAA!!

That made me so happy ngl :33

Anyways! Take this new chapter, if I like it I might hopefully write more!! And GIVE ME IDEAS PLEEEEEASE !!!

Anyways let's go

PREPARE YOUR TISSUE BOXES!!!

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Michikatsu POV

"Kill him and I may move the wedding." That's the first thing I heard in between morning kisses.

I put my hand over his egar mouth.
"Kill Yoriichi? It's been 60 years, the old bastard is probably dead by now anyway" I said, sitting up and removing my hand. He sat cross legged in front of me. 

"But he isint. You and I both know that fact. He's still out there, very much alive. I heard whispers of him from town-folk. The call him the 'lonely samuri'. All the other corps have died off of the marks. You two are the only ones left. I also heard of his spouse." Muzan said

"Sumiyoshi?"

"Yes. Apparently he died. Of old age that is. His daughter, Sumire, is apparently Yoriichi's caretaker as such."

"How do you know all this?"

"Townsfolk. They are weary of him." Muzan said nonchalantly.

I hummed, slouching back

"So if I kill the bastard of a brother, you will move the wedding closer by..... 5 years? We could have it next year" I negotiated

"If you can find a place and pasture, it's on. I never said anything about it has to be there. I just left it up to you" Muzan said

"Because your lazy?"

"Yeah. Why do it myself when I'm powerful enough to get others to do it for me?" Muzan said

"It confuses me on how you have lived this long already. With that mindset I would have killed you in a heartbeat those 60 years ago." I said, getting up and grabbing my katana.

"So it's a yes?" Muzan asked

"Sure. I'll kill yoiriichi. As long as I have food when I get back." I said, ready to head out

"Deal. Don't die! I can't afford to loose you" Muzan said jokingly as I walked into the moonlight.

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[ I used my manga for this point! ]

One thing I didint put into account was where he was. I checked his old hut he shared with Sumiyoshi but it was understandable that he was not there. I checked random places, avoiding the night women and men out of fun.

I ended up secluded. In a plateau area, surrounded by trees. A large skyward temple lay Infront of me. I admired it.

The moon shone down a bloody red.

I felt a presence, but it was most likely a hunter.

"Brother..." His words spoke.

Although crippled and old, although crackling and sad, it recognised those vocal cords as I shared them aswell.

I whipped around, my hat covering my face. I removed it, throwing it to the side, allowing my new appearance to be made to Yoiriichi.

"Your hard to find." I said, my voice sounding clearer, deeper and younger than his current voice.

I faced him head on. My six eyes never leaving his body. Making sure he would not move.

He had a katana, his same old one from years. Either he walks around with it or he knew I would come tonight to find him.

We stood and stared at eachother for a while.

"It's Impossible, really. How are you alive?" I said bluntly.

"Everyone dies before 25. Why are you... Why only you?!" I asked, anger seething through Me.

Why was he so special?!

The rest of us had to perish. Why just him?!

It was unfair and cruel.

"My Sympathise..... My brother" He said, barely above a whisper

How dare he? Call me a brother.

I don't see him as one. Thats for sure. He's a holy being who happens to share my face, my blood.

That ugly old creature, who was once my brother, had pity for me?

But, I don't think it was anger.

Even though throughout 60 years, he was always an eyesore, sticking in the back of my mind like an embarrassing memory.

The voice of him calling me 'brother', was terribly hoarse. He had never shown the slightest emotion, throughout his life.
So the sight of him shedding tears, welled up in me for the first time In my life.

I was confused, confused at my own unexpected unease. I must kill, no, eradicate, this part of me from when I was human.
So he can torment me no longer
This old man of brittle flesh, past his prime.
He was a demon slayer. And I must cleave anyone who turns a sword upon me.

But this odd sentimentality, dissapeared with his next action.
His arm crossed his body, landing on the hilt of his blade. He adjusted his broken formation, tears spilling from his eyes. Was it pity? My mind was changed by his actions.
He would never feel pity. He can't feel anything.

His intimidating aura made the air feel heavy. Like a sack of stones resting on my shoulders.

His stance had no opening. Solidified. Strong.

Three words is all he muttered. All he said.

"Here I come"

I didn't even know what had happened until I tasted an all to scarily familiar taste in my mouth.
It's metallic undertones came to the top, filling my senses with fear, and respect.
Blood was appetising, but not in this scenario.
Not in the context.
In the context, blood was terrifying.

He slit my throat, like it was a plum. With such smooth and gentle ease it did not pain me. It was soft, and welcoming. Something I haven't felt for years. It was a feeling I somehow craved.
Although it did hurt. As it came from his hands.

But, something confused me.

There was no heat. No burning sensation. 60 years ago, we had a quarrel. He sliced my arm off with sun breathing before I retreated. It burnt alot, and stumped my regeneration.

But, this slice, was plain. As if it was unseasoned. It needed something more. A kick. One it could not reach, one it could not get.
His breathing technique was absent. His body radiated that. It radiated his weakness. As the slice never even reached the bone. Just opening the flesh.

It was weak. But still angered me.

Why where you, always so special?!
You where marked, but lived long. Even without breathing, the technique the old man used, was identical to that when he was in his prime.

I seethed. Anger and blood dripping off my lips.

I hate you.

I want to kill you.

But I was intact certain, his next blow would chop off my head. So I was weary.

His sword technique, that even pressed Muzan, was hevanly. Godly. A blessing, as cursed as it sounds.
With these feelings of unrest and defeat, it felt like my insides would explode.

However, he never did release the next blow.

Standing upright and proud,

Yoriichi died.

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If Yoriichi's life had lasted one breath longer, I would have lost. And I would have had to carry that guilt and anger on my back for the hundreds of years to come.

Because Yoriichi died, an honourable death, it will not visit me.

Now this cursed blessing had died, I must not loose.

I set my head straight, facing his dead corpse, standing up mechanically like a Zombie.

Noone. Not even Muzan could defeat you. Let alone harm you.
Why? Why do you always make me feel miserable? Like I'm the worthless one, the weak one. Second to you in everything.

Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Fear. Worry.

Emotions built up. I gritted my blood soaked teeth and unsheathed my blade.

I sliced, cutting the corpse in half.
Similarly, I didn't use any breath. Weather it was intentional or not, it was a sort of respect I didn't want to show.

Hate.

Hate!

Thats it.

I hate you.

...

...

However. You where always stupidly sentimental.

"I think of this flute you gave me, as you"

SHUT UP!

Get out of my head! Your stupid childish whining. Leave me be!

Enough already!

*Drop*

I hate you!

*Three more drops*

Why.... Why do I cry?

Crying over you? The flute? The... The....

I dropped my blade. It landed next to yours.

Tears flowed. And I didint know why, or how to stop them. I hate you. I hate you so much!

But I can't help but mourn....

Falling to my knees, I landed Infront of the flute. My lip quivered, as I picked it up. I blinked in a few of my eyes, my crystal vision blurring slightly.
The wooden parts made sweet noises as the two halves hit against one and other. The small cloth they where wrapped in sliced aswell.

I put the parts in the cloth, and tied the cloth with gentle hands. Your body had nothing left of it. It was completely gone, disinterested into air.

I placed the flute package into my Yukata, never wanting to remove it.
Your sword remained.

I dried my eyes, sniffed and stood up. My lip stopped quivering. My face turned a mournful stoic as I sheathed my blade, and picked up yours. I brought it along to your cabin.

The cabin was worn down, mould and caving in on itself. Although the sword stand remained. And the cot used for Sumire those years back.
I placed your sword on the stand, for it to stay there for years to come. And as a shrine for you to move on.

I hate you.

I bowed down.

I hate you.

I cried, praying to you.

I. Hate. You.

I left.

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Hello!! Sorry for the angst and time skip aha.

I talked at the start, so go read that!!

Anyways, I hope you do enjoy this. It was more a michikatsu/yoriichi brotherly situation than MichiZan but eh, it was good.

I even whipped out my Manga to get it correct

( Volume 20 if your curious )

Anyway! The usual, sorry for spelling mistakes!!

I.NEED.IDEAS.PLEASE!!

I don't know what to write aha.

Anyway! Bye bye!! Until next time :3~~