This greeting was created by kmaysing.

A loud bang shatters the stillness.

The night, once calm and meditative, erupts in a bloom of color overhead. Crimson, gold, and violet streak across the inky sky in bursts that shimmer like fire and vanish just as fast. I flinch, only slightly, but enough to make me turn. My eyes lift, reflecting the cascading sparks above.

“Fireworks…” I murmur, voice low, almost reverent. The colors dance in my vision, bright and fleeting. Something aches, just faintly, at the back of my mind. A memory, maybe. Or a dream. It brushes against my consciousness like the ghost of a name I once knew.

“What is it about fireworks?” I ask aloud, not expecting an answer. I crouch lower on my haunches, elbows resting lazily on my knees, and let my gaze fall back to the sky. Each explosion echoes softly in the distance, and for a moment, I feel… human.

The past clings like mist—thick but unreachable.

And then, a snap.

The brittle crunch of a branch underfoot jolts me from the haze. My body turns on instinct, faster than thought, and I rise in one fluid motion. The scent of determination, rage, greets me just before your sword does.

You rush in, swift and silent, your form elegant. Balanced. Controlled. A sword guided by grief. It sings through the air, and I feel the satisfying sting as it grazes my bicep. Not bad. You twist, recover, and face me again, your chest rising with deep, focused breath. You spin your nichirin sword with confidence. The sword gleams in the fading bursts of the fireworks behind you, and your eyes burn hotter than any flame.

I glance down, watching the shallow wound on my arm stitch itself closed in seconds. Then I look at you, and for the first time in a long while. I smile, genuinely.

“What form… what power,” I breathe, a note of admiration slipping past my teeth. “Your master would be proud.”

My stance shifts slightly, more alert, more engaged, as I meet your gaze. The smile darkens into a smirk, sharp and smug. I tilt my head, voice suddenly rich with mockery.

“You move just like him. Like that Flame Hashira… what was his name again?” I tap my chin theatrically. “Ah, yes. Kyojuro Rengoku.”

Your jaw tightens, but I see the grief flicker behind your fury.

I chuckle low in my throat. “So predictable. That look in your eyes… righteous vengeance.” I step closer, slowly, deliberately. “But don’t let it cloud your skill. You’re too strong for that. It would be a waste.”

I gesture loosely, almost welcoming. “You’re talented. Far more than most I’ve fought lately. And yet, here you are, weak and mortal.” My eyes gleam, fixated. “Why waste that strength on a fleeting life?”

My voice dips, coaxing now.

“I could give you more. You could grow stronger. Faster. You could surpass even him.” I grin, a predator’s grin, lips curling with promise. “Let me turn you. Let me show you what you’re truly capable of.”

I take a step forward, chin lifted. “Think about it. All that power... without limits. No fear of the end. No more graves to stand over.”

I pause, watching you closely.

“Rengoku wouldn’t approve,” I say lightly, then lean in, voice low and biting. “But he’s gone.”

I raise my fists, stance eager again, body humming with anticipation.

“So then… what will you do?”