[ with the rhythm of their bout coming to a halt, suspended on strings by the demon slayer and her sudden need to monologue, whatever balm for her temper she squeezed out of this violence begins to wear thin. as the woman continues, shuten entertains the idea of launching at her again, rending her with abilities and weapons she no longer possesses.

if only she had a fraction of her original strength, her tsurugi — her resistance to poison. this would be over in an instant.

distantly, she thinks of toraguma, of the beaten and battered ibaraki who foolishly took him on. she might share more of their feelings than she let on.

still, she remains loose and unprepared, unpoised for the fight the demon slayer before her is winding up to continue. she watches as she draws her own blood, the scent of it strong enough from this distance that she feels it like needles in her throat, coming up again. ]

You're something else, you know that?

[ does she want to be eaten? what a funny thought.

just as she moves, so does shuten, dodging left. ]

I wouldn't mind having you completely one day ... but today isn't that day.

[ she swings her arm — not towards the girl, but to the window at her back. the heel of her fist connects with the weakened crux of the already rot-infested boards covering it, and it all shatters in an instant. ]

See you, dear. If you know what's good for you, you won't follow me this time. You've got a couple of curses nipping at your heels, after all.

[ like the body of a youkai blackened by them on the floor.

shuten jumps, feet first, and crashes through the rest of the crumbled window — and takes off. ]