THUD.

Another one of your fellow demon slayers tumbled down, a groan of discomfort leaving them as they hit the floor. This was the harsh reality of Muichiro’s Rapid Movement Training. One by one, each of your comrades would drop around you like flies, falling heavily on the firm tatami floors beneath them. You let out an agitated sigh, your stance grounded and the grip on your bokken firm. The ones who had gotten ‘killed’ by Muichiro were already resting by the side, chatting amongst each other and hydrating themselves with bottles of water, basking in the relief of not having to be tense for hours on end.

Despite your desire to rest; you remained focused, watching the Hashira at the center of the room as he continued to move around. In terms of rank, you yourself were a Tsuchinoe, which meant that maybe you could—

“You died,”

Muichiro suddenly announces as he took down one of the members behind you, in which you quickly prepared yourself as you knew what was coming next. Black hair obscured your vision for a second, and what followed next was the sound of wood clashing. Muichiro was right in front of you, his seemingly blank blue irises observing the both of your bokkens.

“Your grip is too firm.”

He corrects, and you almost sigh. Of course you were holding on tight, it’s been hours.