All she wanted was some bread and all she had to do before her teeth could sink into an airy pillow of fluff was pay at the cashier. 

 

But no. A girl in an olive green tracksuit had to barrel through the automatic glass door, lunge for her neck, and only one thought came to mind. 

 

Damn, can't she just have her egg sandwich.

 

Leaping backwards, Sooyoung holds off the girl with her scabbard, sharp claws inches from her face. The cashier lets out a yelp, diving underneath the counter. "I'll call the police!"

 

The girl presses harder. White fangs snapping even closer. 

 

This is no ordinary girl and in her mind, a faint voice rings out the obvious. No , Sooyoung. You dumb or what. 

 

Focus. She can't die here in a dingy 7-Eleven at one in the morning. Not without having a taste of her egg sandwich. 

 

Remember your training. Breathe.

 

She inhales deeply, blood pumping, her muscles growing. A swift draw of the blade and she swings. Streaks of orange and yellow in the air. Flames dance, off the edge of the red steel.

 

The girl howls, shrieking. Staggering, left foot retreating. 

 

Pink slit eyes bulge at the greying right arm lying on the floor. Evaporating. Sooyoung grips her katana tighter.

 

Low feeble groans pour out the girl’s mouth, scarlet flesh growing from the stump.  

 

It's definitely clear that the girl is a demon. 

 

“It ain’t no cosplay. It’s real. It’s all real,” the cashier whimpers into his phone, eyes peeking over the counter, forehead lined with sweat. He ducks under again quickly. She has to end this fast before the police arrive. 

 

Bracing herself, Sooyoung lowers her stance. As close to the floor as possible.

 

Without warning, she charges at a high speed, flames whirling around her form. Launching herself into the air. Aim for the neck. 

 

The blade drives down and she hears it. The surge of waves. 

 

An ebony blade appears. Clashing against her strike, pushing her with equal force. 

 

"Don't touch her!" the newcomer yells, rage coursing through her eyes. Black hair billowing, bangs stuck to her forehead. A distinct face she’ll never forget.   

 

Memories flash through Sooyoung’s mind, her breath hitching.  

 

Jung Jinsol. The former Water Hashira, one of the most powerful top-ranking swordsmasters of the Demon Slayer Corps. Well, emphasis on former because the organization is dead. 

 

Having effectively disbanded.

 

Water spirals around Jinsol's katana, dying in intensity, brown eyes widening in recognition. Sooyoung senses it, this moment of weakness. 

 

She kicks Jinsol flat in the stomach, her sole making direct contact. Jinsol flies from the impact. Crashing into the nearby bun warmer. 

 

"Jung Jinsol. Of all people, you’re traveling with a demon." Sooyoung points her sword in their direction. Trained on Jinsol who gets to her feet. Both hands gripping her katana.   

 

“What does it matter to you?” says Jinsol. The demon behind her snarls, muscles bunching, but Jinsol holds out her hand. Blocking the demon from advancing. 

 

“It does. When your overgrown demon has wrecked my sandwich.” Okay. That didn’t sound very cool when she actually said it aloud, but who can blame her. She can only see the poor flattened and burnt egg sandwich. Sitting on the remains of the counter. 

 

And saying that doesn’t hurt as badly as the truth. 

 

“Grow up,” says Jinsol, frowning. Sooyoung hasn’t heard that in exactly six years. Not since the night the Demon Slayer Corps was wiped out. 

 

Veins pulse in her neck as she thinks. Running into Jinsol. The Demon Slayer Corps. The actual demon being protected by the girl. Why has thinking become so difficult? She should do what she does best. What she was trained to do.

 

Sooyoung readies her blade, exhaling smoke. She doesn’t miss how Jinsol’s eyes narrow.   

 

“Acting all high and mighty, you disgust me,” says Sooyoung. “Move away. Now.”

 

“No. Put down your sword.” 

 

“You leave me no choice.” Sooyoung rushes forward, heat gathering. A flaming tiger in her wake. Blinking to Jinsol’s side. Momentum bringing her blade down. She doesn’t hear anything. 

 

The sound of a droplet hitting water. It comes too late. 

 

“Eleventh Form.” Sooyoung is flung to the shelves, back hitting the racks, knocking snacks to the ground. She can feel gashes over her hands. Arms. Torso. Legs. Her back stings in pain. 

 

Has it really been that long? How could she forget Jinsol’s specialty, her ultimate defence.  

 

“Give up, Sooyoung. You never beat me back then.” Jinsol’s voice is restrained, a little too caring. Get up. On your feet. Sooyoung tries to move, tries to stand. Jinsol walks to the bun warmer that fell over during their earlier scuffle. The girl grabs a bun at random, handing it to the demon.

 

Sooyoung grits her teeth, fingers twitching. Bracing the ground.  

 

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.” Jinsol pats the demon’s head, turning to leave, demon in tow. Sooyoung blinks and they’re gone.   

 

She hears the ringing of sirens and she curses. The cell at the police station is waiting for her if she doesn’t move. Looking at the cuts on her body, she figures she probably won’t outrun the police, considering who’s on duty at this ungodly hour.  

 

Tonight had not gone well to say the least. 

 

---

 

Sooyoung inspects the bandages wrapped around her wounds. She’ll be sore for a couple of days, but it’ll be fine.  

 

Jinsol had really gone soft on her. If this happened six years ago, her head would be rolling on the floor. She had made such a rookie mistake. Charging headfirst. Allowing her emotions to bury her rationality, to reduce her to a hot-blooded fool.   

 

Footsteps sound in the hallway, leading to her cell. 

 

She closes her eyes as the cell door opens, a chair being dragged in. The door slams shut. Well, it’s not like she had a chance at escaping. 

 

Sooyoung hugs her legs, brings her knees a little closer to herself. Struggling to get comfortable on the cold metal bench. She curls up, head against her knees, ignoring the wrath of the woman sitting in front of her. 

 

“This is your fifth visit this month. Don’t you get tired of coming here?” Sooyoung doesn’t reply. Talking is useless. She has learned that if she doesn’t say anything, she’ll be out faster. The other woman audibly huffs. 

 

“Sooyoung, tell me what happened and then you can go.” Silence. A few beats and the chair legs screech. Coming even closer. 

 

“I’ll have to go through the CCTV if you don’t tell me. I’m not letting it go this time and you won’t get out tonight.” A pause. “You might not be tired, but I am.” The defeat in her voice. Sooyoung feels sorry for a second, but the guilt disappears in less than a second. If they’re going to play this game, she can do it all night long. Haseul will surely give up soon.  

 

It has always been this way. 

 

“We know there was a female demon.” Hearing it confirmed only deepens the pit in her stomach. “And she wasn’t the only one. We found clean-cut slashes in the aisle so there was a Breath of Water user.” 

 

“Stop,” Sooyoung rasps. 

 

“Just like—”

 

“Stop.” 

 

“Like Jinsol. Our dear Water Hashira Jinsol,” finishes Haseul. Her eyes open, glaring at her old friend.

 

“Former,” Sooyoung snaps. 

 

“So she was there.” . She had basically admitted to Jinsol being on scene. Sooyoung runs her fingers through her hair. She has to calm down. 

 

Wisps of air leave . 

 

“No breathing in here,” says Haseul. The woman probably wants her dead on a daily basis, though she didn’t expect her to be this direct. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I mean, no Breath of Flame shenanigans. I let you have your katana as a sign of good will.”

 

“Because you’re afraid of the paperwork if you confiscate it,” mutters Sooyoung. She’s grateful Haseul didn’t strip her of her weapon and that it’s still hanging to her belt. However, that fact doesn’t remove the incoming headache. The twisting nervousness stirring incessantly.  

 

She doesn’t want to talk about Jinsol anymore. Nor has she wanted to in the past years.

 

“Fine.” Another huff from the woman. “We’ll do this the hard way,” says Haseul. 

 

“Attempted demon slaying by civilians is illegal under Article 31 of the Demon Act. This crime warrants a sentence in prison for up to three years.” Haseul stands, pushing the chair. Hand on the door handle.     

 

“I will not hesitate to throw you in jail if that’s what it takes for you to learn your lesson.” 

 

“Wait. I’ll tell you everything at home. Just not here.” Sooyoung doesn’t recognize her own voice anymore. 

 

“Please,” she croaks. Haseul raises her eyebrow, staring through her. 

 

“You stubborn . If only I had started with that.” Haseul walks to her side, offering a hand which she accepts, pulling herself up. They fall into the routine once they’re through the cell door and in the hallway, Sooyoung leading the way out. 

 

Haseul likes to call this the ‘walk of shame’ whenever Sooyoung is released from the police station. Sooyoung normally disagrees with that label, except it certainly feels like it when they walk into the main office. She notices a new face in the corner, gaping at the sheer amount of bandages she’s sporting.

 

“Heejin! Get back to work,” says Haseul. The girl’s eyes shift to the paperwork on her desk. Heaving a sigh, twirling and spinning her pen. 

 

“She recently graduated from the police academy.” Typical of Haseul, offering an explanation without being asked. Sooyoung tilts her head, gaze lingering on the rookie. 

 

“Must be nice having another pair of hands around to help.” Her friend pulls on a coat, rummaging for her car keys. 

 

“You have no idea,” replies Haseul.

 

---

 

They don’t bother turning on the lights. Haseul doesn’t wait for her, heading for the couch wordlessly, throwing her keys in the direction of the kitchen table. The woman sits, crossing her legs. Elbow propped up, leaning on the sofa arm as if she had all the time in the world.

 

Sooyoung drags her feet, slowly sliding off her sandals. She puts her katana in its rightful place, next to the shoe rack. She goes to her room to change her clothes. 

 

She’s about to boil ramen in the kitchen when Haseul obnoxiously clears a few feet away.

 

“We’ll talk now unless you want to return to the police station. You clearly seem to be against the idea so park your here immediately.” It’s unfair that she’s withholding information from Haseul. Crucial pieces at that. Haseul was also close to Jinsol when they were all in the Demon Slayer Corps. As Tsugukos, the successors to the Hashiras. They were next in line should the Hashiras retire or die. 

 

Haseul deserves to know so Sooyoung goes to the couch without delay this time. She lets her weight sink into the couch, eyes wandering to the ceiling. 

 

She can’t help reminiscing. The memories return, crashing into her just because she saw Jinsol at the 7-Eleven. The entire group of Tsugukos frequently went on missions together, beheading demons at the crack of dawn. 

 

She remembers Jiwoo and Jungeun sneaking off together, claiming they would get a head start on saving defenseless citizens from demons. Chaewon, Yerim, and Hyejoo being forced to run up and down the mountain by their Hashiras as punishment. Haseul cleaning their messes after all of them, disposing of the bodies. Jinsol sharpening her blade every night. 

 

So she can cleanly slice through a demon’s neck with one swing.       

 

“Found anything interesting on the ceiling yet?” says Haseul. Sooyoung grabs the nearby cushion, placing it behind her own head before dropping down. 

 

“My therapist would be mad that you’re replacing her. She has three kids to feed, you know. Along with two disabled dogs, a cat, five albino fish. And an axolotl. It’s pale pink,” says Sooyoung. 

 

“Since when do you go to the therapist?” 

 

“Since my fourth visit to the police station this month. I ran into a woman offering discounted therapy sessions at the community centre. Fifty percent off.” 

 

“Of course you would trust a random stranger.” Sooyoung didn’t question it at the time. Maybe she should’ve. 

 

“She was very convincing. Although her Guy Fawkes mask paired with a voice changer evocative of a mall Santa was a tad disconcerting.” Haseul doesn’t respond right away and Sooyoung understands. It was only during the second therapy session when she got used to the faux deep voice. 

 

“What happened at the 7-Eleven.”

 

“I couldn’t sleep so I watched this Chinese-American guy visit 7-Elevens to buy their entire stocks of food. He really liked the egg salad sandwich in Japan. Very flavorful. Much umami. A little bit of hot oil would be perfect.” In the dark, she can’t tell what expression Haseul is wearing so she doesn’t explain her obsession with convenience store mukbangs further. 

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“I decided to go get an egg sandwich myself. There was no one there, but me and the cashier. I was about to make my wallet cry and pay for my nightly carbs.” Sooyoung spends a few more seconds gathering her thoughts. 

 

“Then a female demon in a cheap green tracksuit burst into the store, tackling me. The cashier was a wimp and called you.” 

 

“I can’t imagine why. The police must be good for something,” mutters Haseul. 

 

“Shut up. So I fought the demon and I was a second from beheading it. Then—” She falters, her breathing becomes shallow. 

 

Warmth envelopes her right hand, Haseul squeezing gently. Encouraging her to continue. 

 

“Jinsol. Jung Jinsol appeared out of nowhere. Protecting the demon.” Sooyoung laughs, sounding more and more like a broken tape on rewind. 

 

“Jinsol who spent her entire life killing demons with a vengeance. The woman who watched her whole family die from a demon attack. The girl who laughed at me for having sympathy for those creatures.” Sooyoung throws her head back, cackling. Stopping only when Haseul doesn’t join her. 

 

“Can you believe it?”

 

“Am I supposed to answer?” says Haseul. 

 

“No. Don’t.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I think you can guess what happened next.” Exhaustion suddenly descends upon her eyes, weighing heavier, her body finally catching up to today’s events. “She beat my .” 

 

Her consciousness fully slips, succumbing to the darkness.    

 

---

 

2pm. Sooyoung tosses the clock after a single glance. She feels the familiar soft bed underneath her, the fluffy blanket coddling her. She must’ve been really tired last night, to not even wake when Haseul carried her to her room. 

 

Padding to Haseul’s room, she stops in front of the door. Wondering whether she should knock and thank her friend. 

 

She decides against it, heading into the kitchen. She’s halfway through her ramen when she spots a yellow note taped to the table. Won’t be back until 9pm. We’ll talk more then. 

 

Sooyoung lazes around for the rest of the day. She embraces her full potential as a human potato. She watches The Office for the nth time, scrolls through her twitter feed every five minutes, naps the remaining hours away on the couch.   

 

At 9pm sharp, Haseul comes back in her full police uniform. Looking haggard like a single mom driving her triplets to soccer practice. 

 

“More demons?” says Sooyoung. Haseul throws her shoes off with a grunt. They soar above Sooyoung’s head. Their landing reflects Haseul’s mood. 

 

“Wannabe demon slayers. Causing more harm than good,” says Haseul, making a beeline to the fridge. Pulls out a beer.

 

“They don’t even know how to handle a sword properly. Who the manages to accidentally slice off their own arm when fighting a demon? Incompetent fools, all of them.” Haseul cracks open her can, taking a swig.  

 

“We can’t just save people from demons, we have to save people from themselves!” continues Haseul. 

 

“Hey, I can help you guys out. I’m a qualified demon slayer,” says Sooyoung. Haseul knits her eyebrows together. 

 

“Then join the police force. It’s that easy, Jungeun did it a few months ago.”

 

“She did?” Sooyoung hasn’t bothered staying in touch with their group. There wasn’t a reason to. 

 

“Yes, she passed police academy with flying colours. You would too, it’s easier than final selection for entering the Demon Slayer Corps.” 

 

“But you’re not allowed to use your katana to fight demons. What’s the point then?” says Sooyoung. 

 

“I get to kill them legally.” Done with her beer, Haseul chucks the can at Sooyoung. It bounces off harmlessly.   

 

“You need to stop throwing things when you’re angry.”

 

“Excuse me. You’re also part of the problem. I have to bail you out of the police station 24/7 and you don’t even pay rent here! You’re a freeloader who I see at home and a delinquent who I see at work.” Haseul turns to the fridge again, forcefully swinging the door open. Shaking her head. 

 

“No more being a parasite. No more freeloading. I talked to Jungeun today and she’s found you a job,” says Haseul.  

 

“Are you serious?” Sooyoung is trying to keep up with Haseul’s rant. Processing everything being rapidly spat out. 

 

“Go meet her tomorrow or else I’m throwing you and your stash of apples out the apartment. The biggest and the reddest ones.” 

 

Sooyoung has found her answer. Haseul is the most serious she has been in ten years. 

 

AN: All of Loona will eventually show up somehow and it was really fun planning what Breath styles each of them would have. For those of you familiar with Kimetsu no Yaiba, I'd love to hear your opinions on what Pillars they should be. Though Jinsol = Water pillar is perfection.  

Thanks for reading.