They didn't give Saturo a choice.
"Up," the doctor said. "Slowly. Or don't, and let them drag you. I don't care, but your ribs will."
Saturo gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright. The room tilted once before it settled.
Outside, Marines were louder than yesterday.
"Form up!"
"Keep space from the edge!"
The crack still sat above the village. Thinner in the daylight, but there. A red line, like someone had scratched the sky and left it.
Saturo felt it pulsing in his chest again. Small pushes from inside, like his lungs were flinching before his mind caught up.
The captain waited just outside the clinic door, arms folded.
"We're going to the pier," he said. "I want to see exactly where this started. With all of you there."
Tanjiro stood with Nezuko's box strapped to his back. He looked tired, but steady. "Is that necessary?" he asked.
"Yes," the captain said. "You three attract whatever came through. I'd rather know how close we are to it."
The doctor muttered something under his breath that sounded like an insult to both sides, then helped Saturo to his feet.
"Try not to die on the way," he said. "It would ruin my morning."
Saturo managed a thin smile. "I'll limp slowly. For your sake."
Two Marines flanked them as they walked.
Every step down the street sent a dull ache through Saturo's chest. His lungs didn't like walking and talking in the same minute. He didn't try talking.
Villagers watched from doorways and alleys. Some stared at Tanjiro. Some at Nezuko's box. Some at Saturo, then quickly away.
Snatches of whispers followed them.
"That's him…"
"The boy who cut it…"
"Why are they taking them out there?"
The air grew colder as they reached the water.
The pier looked different in daylight. Same wood. Same posts. But Saturo couldn't shake the image of gray claws scraping over it.
He swallowed and stepped onto it anyway.
"Here," the captain said, stopping near the spot where the boards were still stained dark. "This is where the first one landed?"
"More or less," Saturo said, voice rough.
He could feel his lungs tightening just standing there.
The crack pulsed overhead.
It wasn't loud. It didn't flash. It just… pushed.
Saturo felt the pressure in his chest spike for a second, then ease.
Tanjiro tilted his head up, eyes narrowing. His hand brushed the side of Nezuko's box, grounding himself.
"It's stronger here," he said quietly.
"You're closer," the captain replied.
"That's not what I meant," Tanjiro said.
Saturo didn't answer. The air over the water felt strange. The waves were wrong—moving in short, stiff chops instead of smooth rolls.
One of the Marines near the edge frowned. "Sir… the fish."
Dozens of dead fish floated near the pilings. Not rotten. Just still. Their bodies bumped against each other and the posts with soft, dull sounds.
Saturo's lungs flared again.
The knock inside his chest sharpened, like a hand had tightened its grip.
Something moved under the surface.
Not a wave.
A shape.
Long. Thin. Snaking between the posts.
"Back from the edge!" the captain snapped.
The Marines stepped away. Saturo didn't move far. His legs wouldn't take him quickly even if he tried.
The water bulged.
A head broke the surface—not really a head, but the idea of one. Too many eyes that didn't line up. A mouth splitting in the wrong place. Its body followed, long and jointed like an insect, but bending like something boneless.
It clung to the side of the pier, dragging itself up.
Guns came up around Saturo. Rifles cocked.
"Hold," the captain said. "It's half in the water. You'll just splash it."
The creature turned.
It looked past the Marines, past the captain, past everyone.
Set its fractured gaze on Saturo.
His lungs seized so hard he coughed without air.
"Of course," he croaked.
The creature hissed and pulled itself higher, claws gripping the boards.
Two Marines fired anyway.
The bullets hit.
They just didn't behave.
The shots punched holes in its body, but the wounds didn't bleed. They folded, closed, then slid sideways across its skin and vanished, like the damage had been dragged somewhere else.
"Great," Saturo rasped. "It's cheating."
The thing lunged.
Saturo tried to step back.
The world blurred. His chest locked. There was no air to move with.
His body froze in the worst moment possible—
—and something deep in him panicked.
He dragged one breath.
One.
Too deep. Too fast.
His vision sharpened for a heartbeat.
The creature's path slowed. Not by much. Just enough.
His right foot slid sideways instead of back. Not a technique. Not grace. Just instinct and fear and that strange, stolen clarity he'd felt once before on the pier.
Claws sliced past where his chest had been.
A blur crossed between them.
Tanjiro.
He wasn't fast like Nezuko, but he moved with a purpose that cut straight through the chaos. Sword in hand, feet planted on the boards.
"Tanjiro, don't—" Saturo started.
He caught the quiet inhale.
Water Breathing, Saturo didn't know the words for it, but he felt how it shaped Tanjiro's body.
Not a full form. Not a named technique. Just the beginning of one, clipped short for lack of space and time.
Tanjiro stepped in and cut down.
The blade sliced across the creature's side. Its body buckled, part of it folding wrong, parts phasing out and back in around the wound.
It shrieked.
Its tail whipped around, catching Tanjiro in the shoulder. He slid back, boots scraping wood, teeth bared in pain.
"Nezuko!" he shouted.
The box thumped.
She burst out a moment later, landing on the pier with bare feet skidding but not losing balance. Her eyes went straight to the creature.
It went straight back to Saturo.
He felt that focus like a hand around his lungs.
Nezuko didn't waste time.
She slammed into its side, driving it away from him and toward the edge of the pier. Wood groaned under the impact.
The creature twisted in her grip, body bending in ways that hurt to look at. One clawed limb still reached for Saturo even as she hammered its head down.
Her heel came down hard.
The head cracked. The long body spasmed.
It tried to drag itself forward again.
She stomped a second time.
The creature came apart.
Not like flesh.
It broke into fragments that looked like ashes mixed with glass dust, scattering across the boards, then sinking through the gaps to the water below.
The crack in the sky flickered once.
Saturo leaned on the nearest post. His chest burned from that one deep breath more than it had from nearly drowning.
The pier was suddenly too quiet.
Marines stared at the empty boards.
One finally spoke. "Sir… that was… like the first one. But wrong."
"Smaller," another said. "But it went right for him."
His eyes landed on Saturo.
Saturo coughed, trying to clear the dryness in his throat. "I noticed."
The captain's gaze moved from the dust, to Nezuko, to Tanjiro, then finally to Saturo.
"Twice," he said. "Two different creatures. Same target."
"Not my favorite pattern," Saturo said.
The captain ignored that. "Your breathing," he said instead. "Right before it reached you. It changed."
Saturo frowned. "I moved."
"You were about to fall," the captain said flatly. "Then you weren't. How?"
Saturo didn't know what to tell him.
I took a breath felt stupid.
So he didn't answer.
Tanjiro stepped in quietly. "He reacted to the crack," he said. "Again. His lungs… line up with it when it pulses."
The captain's eyes narrowed. "Line up?"
"Like it's pulling him into its rhythm," Tanjiro said.
Saturo felt his chest tighten just hearing it said out loud.
A faint pulse brushed through him again.
He couldn't tell if it came from the sky or from his own ribs.
The captain seemed to reach a decision.
"Bring them back to the clinic," he said. "Double the guard. And send word to the ship—this isn't just a local problem anymore. Headquarters needs to hear about all three of them."
One of the Marines hesitated. "All three, sir?"
He looked at Saturo, Tanjiro, and Nezuko in turn.
"All three," the captain repeated.
Saturo let the Marines help him turn away from the edge. His legs felt heavy, but his lungs were worse—too aware now, like they had heard something they weren't meant to.
He risked one last glance back.
The fish still floated near the posts.
The crack still hung above the water.
His chest answered it with one small shiver.
For the first time, Saturo felt less like someone watching a storm…
and more like someone the storm had noticed.
AUTHOR'S NOTE — BONUS & EARLY ACCESS
This is my original work. Please support if you like, Suggestions are welcome
◇ I'll drop one bonus chapter for every 10 reviews(leave a review/comment!)
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.