[center][h1][color=salmon]RYUNOSUKE KAMADO[/color][/h1][/center]
Mentions: [@Digmata][@Randomguy]




[b]PRE-TIMESKIP[/b]

Why was everyone so official? 
Why are the other brats introducing themselves?
Why are the lights [b]so GODDAMN LOUD??!?[/b]

Ryunosuke's brain was still wracked with the pain of a hangover. He vaguely remembers Kairi ushering him along a hallway, a few familiar faces, and a few unfamiliar ones. To be honest, he lost himself in his own thoughts. Now, regaining some form of lucidity, he finds himself in the Hashira meeting. He sees his master, Takaya, addressing the penny crowd. He thinks he hears mentions of training, new faces, calls for him to fight his alcoholism? His inner self scoffs at the idea. He's not an alcoholic! He just likes the buzz it brings... Ok he might be an alcoholic.


Inner contemplation aside, he's silent and disobservant in his corner. Even when Takaya was listing off the names of the deceases, he was detatched from the wider conversation. Sure, he held his own reservations, but those were for himself only. He doesn't need any of them knowing his true thoughts. Hell, he doesn't need any of them! To Ryunosuke, the greatest insult he was ever given was being named a Hashira. His mother spoke of them like venerant gods. Legends in their own right. The best of the best of the best the Demon Slayer Corps had to offer. 

He hated them.

Nihilistic sycophants with a martyr complex. Those who would sooner squander their power in sacrifice than use it for personal gain. It was a waste of god given talent. You want a hero's end so much? Fine, let the little guy take the killing blow. Let the legend live on. Hunt demons, kill whoever's in your path. Don't pander to the small man. Don't be the leader. Be the weapon, the killer, the self-righteous prick you were meant to be. And, in a twist of irony, Takaya-Sama mantled the title onto him with little discussion. There was a reason Ryunosuke distanced himself from the Corps. More than just him hating to work with others.

He hated the Hashira. She hated the Slayers, the Corps, the whole lot of them

Well- all except one.

In his fugue state, he hardly gave Tenko any thought. A smallish-figure with a bubbling personality, and eyes that betrayed her youth. A paradox, if Ryu had to put a title to it. She was too happy, too demure, yet deadly all the same. Ryu still knows how to gauge an opponent, even in the stupors of a hangover. She was skilled. Some kind of switch in her... The longer he analyzed her, the more his head hurt. [color=salmon]"Look, kid-" he manages to mutter. "If its an autograph you want, tha-"[/color]

[quote]“Umm…Kamado-san? Are you all right? I have aspirin if you’d like.”[/quote]

He froze midsentence. He was stunlocked. What was this? A... genuine act of kindness? A heartfelt gesture. Not one of pity, or misplaced care, but undiluted kindness?

The paradox of Tenko Thompson grew to an unfathomable scale. Can this person... really be a Slayer? Is she a hallucination? An angel, sent by God to aid Ryu in his time of need? Was it an apparition? A joke? Anything??!?

But no. All it was was a genuine act of kindness. To Ryu, that bottle of water and packet of aspirin were like an oasis in a desert. Someone... was actually being nice to him. And without any prerogative to do so. He collected himself before he could leave his mouth agape for too longer. He grunted as he stood up and gingerly grabbed the water and medicine. The aspirin was almost as sobering as their short interaction.

[color=salmon]"Uhm- thanks, kid. I'm good, for now."[/color] For anyone who knew him, or even been around him, this must have been shocking. Ryunosuke is never this diplomatic to anyone. No snarky remark, no backhanded compliment, no unneccessary beligerance. It was almost too neutral for him. Something uncharacteristic.

[color=salmon][i]'Tenko... I gotta remember her.'[/i][/color]

[b]POST-TIMESKIP[/b]

His jailor turned into his sparring opponent... As if this day could get any worse.
The lingering effects of his night have all but subsided. Thanks to the efforts of that strange Kinoto, the Dragon was back in tiptop shape. [color=salmon]"Yknow something, Kai, there's a real fuckin irony about all of this. We, swordsman, are learning how to hamper an opponent using our fists. On top of that, that fuckin demon that's gaslighting as a regular human!"[/color]

He really wished he was back in Shinjuku. He never should have traveled to Tokyo. Buuuut, who was he to decline Takaya-Sama? He still curses to himself for listening to the pipsqueak. [color=salmon]"Soooo, what's next? We get [i]you[/i] hopped up on some iron dust?"[/color] he put a sarcastic emphasis on the 'you'. [color=salmon]"Who knows, that shit might give you a fighting chance against me."[/color]