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trancylovecraft · 2 years ago

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(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro.

YSIK Masterlist // Next chapter

A Cherry Blossom is a pretty flower, Blooming in the spring and representing renewal and joy. However it is quick to die out in the winter, Shrivelling up with it's beautiful colour following with it. Leaving the memory of it gone yet never forgotten.

The moon shun bright in the obsidian black sky.

The light that came down illuminated a small, yet well kept gravestone.

It was old, Ancient probably, Cracks were illustrated boldly into the corners and wrapped around the granite like spider webs. it seemed it was about to fall apart at the seams, yet held strong.

Flowers of all colour bustled around the bottom, Fresh, Newly planted.

A man sat on his knees in front of the stone, the only motion he made was the light breeze running through his hair, making his ponytail sway in the wind.

This was no man but instead a demon.

All six of his eyes lay transfixed on the carving written dead-centre on the tombstone, Carved with great care and precision to get it just right.

'[F/N] Tsugikuni'

The mans face was stoic and unreadable, but his eyes were filled with great sorrow and regret.

Kokushibo's arm reached out to the stone, Clawed hands tracing over the lettering carved out.

He asked himself

'How did it come to this?'

☆♡☆

"Michi-Nii!"

A young girl in a blue dragon-patterned haori called out from a distance, She could of only been about four or five yet her little legs were fast and let her catch up to her older brother.

Michikatsu turned around, Mildly surprised at his sister's sudden appearance he stopped in his tracks letting her finally reach him.

"[F/N]. I thought I told you to stay at home and help mother today, You know she needs someone to help her out." Michikatsu said, A little white lie.

His mother, While she wasn't in the best condition, Didn't currently need any help and even if she did little [F/N] would not of been able to do much about it. After all, She was still very young.

[F/N] heaved trying to catch her breath from all that running.

"I know Michi-Nii! but I wanted to come watch you fight!" [F/N] said excitedly, A big expecting smile on her face.

Michikatsu looked into [F/N]'s big puppy dog eyes and sighed. He just couldn't resist.

"..Well alright.. But for the record it's not 'fighting' it's sword training, I'm not fighting anyone, Just preparing for the day when I do, When I become a samurai!" Michikatsu said triumphantly.

[F/N] squealed.

"That's so cool! When I'm a big kid I wanna fight with swords and become a sam-u-mai!" She exclaimed.

"Samurai" Michikatsu corrected.

"Samai!" She responded.

"Samurai" Michikatsu said, Extra slowly so [F/N] could pick up the syllables.

"Samrai!" She said with complete confidence.

Michikatsu snorted and ruffled the girls hair, Who laughed in return.

"Nevermind, Let's get a move on then."

☆♡☆

The sun was high in the sky naming afternoon.

[F/N] sat on the grassy hill next to her brother, Yorichii.

They sat together watching Michikatsu over yonder train his sword swings by hitting dummies out in the field. She watched in wonder at his determination and focus to his craft

Yorichii was the middle child of the family, Michikatsu the oldest and [F/N] the youngest.

Yorichii was a mute. Never spoke or made any motion to communicate, However that never stopped [F/N]'s undying attempts of trying to.

This mostly just consisted of [F/N] following him around, Sleeping in his futon when she had a nightmare or just simply talking her little heart out to him, To which he'd always respond with a little smile and a nod, Showing that he was listening.

He was usually a daydreamer, But today he seemed just as transfixed as she was at their older brother's training.

"Yor-Nii, Where are you going?" [F/N] asked as she watched Yorichii wander down the hill towards Michikatsu.

As usual she got no answer, So she got up and followed him down.

Michikatsu was so fixated on his sword swings that he never noticed Yorichii standing behind him.

So when the physics of one of his sword slashes brought him back stumbling into Yorichii that snapped him out of his training fever.

"Yorichii? What is it?" Michikatsu said surprised. His brother had never interfered while he was training

Yorichii stood still and took in a deep breath, He clenched his fists as if bracing for impact. He opened his mouth.

"...I want to be a samurai like you!" Yorichii stammered not only in his speech but also in his stance.

Michikatsu's sword dropped to the ground with a clang!

A shockwave went through both Michikatsu and [F/N], Their brothers first words to them leaving them speechless.

[F/N] however was the first to speak up.

"Yor-Nii! You can speak! Now we can really talk to each other!" She proclaimed excitedly, Making Yorichii wobble when she jumped to hug him.

Michikatsu stood there, It was hard to tell whether he was shocked at Yorichii's sudden speech or the proclamation of his goal which happened to coincide with both his and [F/N]'s.

"Yorichii.." Michikatsu said just above a whisper.

Yorichii looked back at him with a shaky determination, it shook and swayed but despite the odds it stood strong.

Michikatsu's form deflated, Going back to his calm and stoic demeanour.

"Yorichii. You know what will happen when you're ten, Right?" He said quietly, Only hinting at Yorichii's fate as [F/N] had no idea.

Yorichii nodded. Only taking a glance down at [F/N].

"I know. But I still want to be a samurai, I want to be like you." Yorichii said, Still not given up.

[F/N] perked up.

"Me too! I wanna be a.. samurai too! Like Michi-Nii!" She said, Making sure to pronounce 'Samurai' slowly to pronounce the syllables.

"Hey, You got it right" Michikatsu pointed out, Mildly proud.

Yorichii looked down at [F/N] who still was hugging his waist, He smiled.

"Really? All of us want to be swordsmen?" Yorichii asked now a bit more reserved. He scratched the back of his head.

"Swordgirl!" [F/N] said confidently.

"Swordswoman" Both Yorichii and Michikatsu corrected at the same time.

"Swordgirl?"

This will take a while.

☆♡☆

A good few years have passed since then.

The five-year old little girl [F/N] had grown into a blossoming young woman and is now a little younger than her big brothers were back then.

She still wore a resized version of her blue dragon-patterned haori, The only thing that really stayed the same and came with her through her walk of life.

"You know [F/N], I could convince your father to buy you a new haori" Akeno Tsugikuni, Her mother said to her while running a needle through her haori, resizing the fabric to fit [F/N]'s bigger self.

"This is about the fifth time I've had to refit this old thing. I'm sure your dad would prefer you to have a new one, You are coming up on marriage age after all" She softly spoke to [F/N], But her eyes were fixed on the fabric, Stitching with care.

[F/N] shook her head nonchalantly.

"No, Mom. This was a gift from you, It was homemade. You can't just buy that kind of thing from a tailor." She huffed.

[F/N] sat on the edge of her mothers sick-bed, Her mother laid propped up so she could

Akeno smiled.

"Besides, I don't even think I'd want to get married. I like how my life is right now and you know I still want to be an onna-musha, right?" [F/N] said.

True, Even after all these years [F/N] still held onto the goal of becoming a Female samurai, An onna-musha.

However it seemed like a pipe-dream. With her father's influence and strength she had never picked up a sword, No matter how hard or surreptitiously tried to steal or borrow one of her brothers swords she was always caught in the end and given a right punishment for it.

Still, This never changed her mind on the matter.

"I see... Still haven't given up on that dream, have you?" She hummed.

"Well anyways, If you're so invested into my own sowing then maybe-" Akeno broke out into a fit of coughs, She dropped the needle in favour of covering her mouth.

[F/N] quickly rushed over to her side.

"Mom? Mom, Are you alright" She said, Lightly patting her mothers back.

Akeno stopped sputtering out coughs but still softly wheezed during breaths.

"I'm.. Fine, Sweetheart" She spoke, However her hoarse throat said otherwise.

"No, You're not! You don't need to fix my haori, We can continue later but right now you should lay down." [F/N] worried.

Akeno shook her head.

"I said I'm alright but.. could you go fetch me.. Some water?" She breathed heavily as if all the air around her had thinned.

[F/N] quickly nodded and rushed out the room to complete the task.

She swiftly opened the shoji doors to her house and made her way over to the water-well sat upon the hill. She hoped to the gods above that the well hadn't dried up in the early summer heat.

She reached the small little well and peered inside, The water in the well was plentiful. [F/N] sighed in relief and proceeded to wheel the bucket on the rope down the stony passageway.

CLASH!

[F/N] jumped at the sound, Letting the rope slip from her grasp she watched the bucket fall from its steady pace and hit the water with a loud splash!

"No!" [F/N] yelled. The well was too far down for her to reach the bucket. She cried out in frustration and looked over at the source of noise that dominoed the bucket falling.

Over in the valley beyond the hill was Michikatsu, Still out training with his sword. It was fairly early in the morning and judging by the sweat-beads on his face and the mess of his clothes [F/N] could tell he's been up training since six at least.

That's right, Along with her, Michikatsu had changed as well.

From the strong yet stoic young man that [F/N] had grown up with he had festered into a more strength obsessed yet quiet young man than what he had been before.

[F/N] knew the catalyst well, He was her brother after all.

Yorichii from that day he proclaimed his want to be a samurai, Had demonstrated an inhuman talent for the skill. A man who was working with their father had humoured Yorichii and decided to teach him a basic stance.

However to everyone's surprise, Yorichii had landed four blows on the man and swiftly defeated him. Which is something that Michikatsu never could.

From then on Michikatsu grew a bit darker, Maybe not noticeably. Not noticeable from her father, mother or even Yorichii. But [F/N] could tell.

She barely saw him anymore, Well it was more of she never talked to him anymore. She still watched him train, at least from afar.

An idea clicked in her head.

The bucket in the well was too far down for her to reach, Yes. However it wasn't too far for Michikatsu who was a foot taller than her.

She walked down the hill, Calling out for him.

"Michi-Nii!" She called out to him.

Michikatsu stopped swinging his sword and turned around to look at his little sister with an annoyed scowl on his face.

"What? Can't you see I'm a bit busy at the moment" Michikatsu hissed.

[F/N] froze for a moment.

"I just need a little help, the bucket in the well fell into the water" She explained softly, Scared to entice her brothers wrath.

Michikatsu groaned.

"Alright." He said simply and quickly headed over to the well. [F/N] followed after, Smiling.

"Thank you, Michi-Nii!" She said thankfully.

[F/N] grabbed onto his hand to hold it, But she was shaken off by Michikatsu.

"I told you to stop calling me that, It's stupid and childish" He said, grimacing.

[F/N]'s smile was put out like a light, But she nodded. Trying to respect his wishes.

They got to the well and Michikatsu fished out the bucket with ease and handed it over to [F/N] who bowed down in thanks but with much less emotion put into it.

With that, Michikatsu walked away without a goodbye. Off to go and continue training for the rest of the day and coming back home in the dead of night, Just to go to sleep and repeat the process over and over again.

[F/N] frowned but took the bucket of water back to the house.

Sliding open the Shoji doors she entered the house, remarkably more downtrodden than before.

As she walked the halls towards her mothers room she heard two voices arguing in a hushed tone.

"She doesn't want to get married."

"Too bad. She's coming upon marriage age and if she doesn't want to disrespect this family she will do as she's told and marry the man we've picked out for her"

The two voices, Her mother and father.

She slipped quietly behind the half-open shoji door, Intently listening in on their conversation

"She want's to be an onna-musha, You know." Her mother admitted.

"An onna-musha. Really." Her father responded, A tone full of disgusted shock ran through his voice.

"That girl is too weak to even tend to the horses. Not to mention the girl's only worth will be to marry her off to a nobleman. Her being a samurai along with the men would just be wrong" He said.

There was a silence not just between [F/N]'s parents, But her too.

She's known her father hadn't particularly paid attention to her nor did he show any affection but to think he thought this lowly of her was a gut punch to the stomach.

"Don't say that, Akuhei. She could be listening" Her mother said in a whisper.

"I hope she is. She needs to learn the truth sooner or later or she'll grow up and be delusional to the real world."

[F/N] let tears flow from her cheeks, Dripping down onto the floor.

If she couldn't even get a bucket out from a well, Could she really be a swordswoman?

☆♡☆

Something wasn't right.

It had been a good few hours after [F/N] had eavesdropped on her parents conversation and it had fallen into night-time.

[F/N] had long gone to bed but she wasn't able to fallen asleep easy. It was strange, No matter the situation she had always had no issue with falling into unconciousness.

She rolled and scuffled around on her futon uncomfortably. Could it of been the conversation earlier? No. Couldn't be that, It was something else.

[F/N] rubbed her eyes and got up from her futon. She shuffled on her sandals and quickly draped her newly-sized blue dragon haori around her figure for warmth.

She decided to go for a walk to clear her head.

[F/N] walked softly in the darkened hallways of her home, The soft moonlight illuminated her pathway through the house. She was lost in her own thoughts from the events of the day.

Her father's words, Michikatsu's attitude, Her mother's illness. It all swirled in her mind like a hurricane.

"..I like my life how it is right now"

The words she had told her mother. A lie.

She hated how everything was right now. Her dad saw her as an object to be bid on. Michikatsu acted like she was nothing but a burden to him and Yorichii was nowhere to be found.

Besides, Even if Yorichii and Michikatsu weren't talking either they were obviously the more important in the family.

They were the Sun and the Moon, Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi.

[F/N] wasn't a celestial deity or a celestial body, She was just the terrestrial afterthought. Yorichii and Michikatsu were both skilled and talented in their own rights, They were fawned over by the girls and even some of the boys in the village. They were praised and respected.

[F/N] wasn't even allowed to leave the house.

Now that she thought about it, There was only was her and her mother.

Her mother.

While walking she had stopped in her tracks. Light shone in through the hallway from an open door.

Her mother's door.

[F/N]'s brow quirked. Was her mother up this late as well? She should be asleep, She was very ill after all.

[F/N] peeked through the doorway, Her eyes widened.

Yorichii stood over the bed, Her mother layed motionlessly on the bed.

"Yor-Nii?" [F/N] asked.

Yorichii turned around, A strained look in his eyes. His jaw stood locked tight as if there was something painful he had to say.

"Mother has passed on" Yorichii whispered.

What?

No, No. No no no no no. That couldn't be right, No. It couldn't be right.

[F/N] stumbled over to her mother, Shoving Yorichii out of the way to whom backed off.

"Mum, Mum. Wake up, Hey. Hey, Do you hear me?" [F/N] cried, She grasped onto her mother's limp hand, She shook it in futile attempt to wake her.

"Mum you can't, Mum please." Tears started rolling down her cheeks now, Her breathing laboured.

"Yorichii, Please did you try-"

She turned around, Yorichii was nowhere to be seen.

He had left.

He had left and hadn't even bothered to try and comfort her.

She stared in shock, Not believing her situation

She was brought back by a hand squeezing her own.

She snapped her head back down to her mother, Whose eyes lain weakly on [F/N]'s. A soft yet painful smile appeared on her face.

"Mum!" [F/N] choked.

"[F/N]..." Akeno whispered. "Come closer.."

[F/N] Nodded and leant down closer to her mother, Kneeling down now to listen closely. Her eyes never leaving her mothers

"I never wanted to be married... My father had sold me off at a young age as well." Akeno started.

"I had a chance.. Once.. To leave this place, To get out of my marriage but do you know what happened?" She asked, Looking mournfully into the eyes of her youngest, Who was now choking on her sobs and tears rushing out from her eyes.

Akeno didn't wait for an answer

"I didn't take it.. I was too afraid." A sad smile came upon her.

"My life had ended right there since I never took that chance.. And the only good thing to ever happen after that... were you three."

"[F/N].. Yorichii.. Michikatsu. My beautiful children" Akeno let tears roll down her face now, Reminiscing on her life that was flashing before her now.

"Please.. You now have a chance. Get away while you still can.." Her other hand wiped the tears off of [F/N]'s face weakly, However her hand started to fall.

"Run.. and I promise I will see you again, The kami will reunite us... I love you, [F/N]" She whispered, Her hand falling to her side and the others grip becoming limp. The light in her eyes fading.

"Mum... Mum! No! no no!" [F/N] sobbed, Shaking her mothers now lifeless corpse she collapsed to the floor and cried out for her mum to come back, to speak to her.

"Run, You still have your chance"

Her mothers voice rang in her head, It echoed throughout her entire being.

And with love and tears, She kissed her mother on the forehead and closed her dead eyes. Akeno's face displayed rest, peace.

She said her final goodbye's to her mother and left the room to go back to her own.

And with a heavy heart and a rucksack full of essentials, She climbed out her rooms window and left in the dead of night.

☆♡☆

[F/N] trudged through the woodlands.

It was now daybreak, The sun rose upon the distance and shown through cracks in the tree's.

Through all that time [F/N] never stopped walking, Never took a break. The only thing on her mind was escape to a better place.

It was only once she appeared upon a clearing did she stop walking.

In front of her was a rundown Shinto shrine placed upon the mountainy and rocky terrain of the woods.

It had obvious that people hadn't been here in decades by the dust, cobwebs and poor conditions of all the archways and cracked stone lanterns lining the pathway up to the shrine entrance.

Back in it's heyday it would of been grand. A massive shrine that could of held a good few hundred people, As there was a large amount of corridors and a second floor.

Not to mention the vast courtyard [F/N] now found herself standing in.

She breathed in the highland forest air, Took in the birds chirping and the warm light of the sun on her skin.

She looked upon the sign hanging from the archway.

"Inari Ōkami"

The kami of Foxes, Agriculture, Fertility, Tea, Sake and Swordsmiths.

[F/N] frowned at the state of the shrine, Thinking of it as a great disrespect to Inari.

Another thought ran through her mind.

Home. A rundown one for sure, But nothing she couldn't fix.

And that's what she did.

For the next ten years that's what [F/N] did. She fixed the Archways, Refilled the stone lamps, Rebuilt the structuring, Cleaned up the cobwebs and dust all until it looked newly built.

Everyday since she came across it she would give offerings to Inari Ōkami. Ranging from nuts and fruit she would pick up while scavenging to Flowers and pieces of jewellery.

She'd light candles in their honour, Pray to them not for good fortune but for the reformation of the shrine.

She'd grown attached to the shrine, So much so that she had completely forgotten her goal of becoming a swordswoman in favour of being the sole shrine-maiden.

And in that time she had finally bloomed into a beautiful young woman and if anyone should come across her they would describe her as such.

Not that anyone came along though, The shrine was in the middle of nowhere and [F/N] had seen no one in the past decade.

As [F/N] got up for another day to tend to the shrine she wondered what her brothers were doing now.

☆♡☆

[F/N] carried her basket full of fruits, Satisfied from a successful scavenge.

She headed back up towards the large archway that was there to greet people into the temple. It use to be covered in splintered wood but thanks to the efforts of [F/N] the archway was restored with a fresh coat of paint and smoothing of the wood.

When she got up there she stopped, Her eyes widened.

The massive wooden doors to the thick stone wall gate were left wide open.

She was sure she had closed them when she had left.

Her body stiffened and her palms became sweaty.

Who could be in her shrine? Nobody came up the mountains and the nearest village was a good few dozen kilometres away on the far other side of the forest. No one who was just wandering could come across the temple.

[F/N] slowly put the basket of fruit onto the ground, Making sure not to make a sound.

She unsheated her Kaiken from her obi and slowly made her way inside to the courtyard, Which seemed empty.

But she looked upon the main building and just like the gate doors the shoji to the main building were left wide open.

[F/N] confirmed her suspicions. Someone was definetly here.

She made her way inside, Checking the main hallways she found no one around however that never made [F/N] let down her guard.

THUMP!

[F/N] flinched. The sound of an object knocking over came from just down the hall she was facing. Gripping her Kaiken tighter she moved forward towards the sounds

As she got closer, She heard a duo of voices arguing.

"Stop moving, Brother."

"Argh, If you'd let me do it by myself this would go much faster."

"No. You're injured, let me do it."

Wait..

"I'm told you I'm fine. It's just a cut."

Those voices..

[F/N] lowered her Kaiken. She stood, legs shaking. Heart pounding as she slowly called out.

"Michi-Nii? Yori-Nii?"

A sudden shuffling was heard in the room across from her.

The semi-shut shoji doors slammed open and out first came Michikatsu, Who had a semi-wrapped bandage around his arm with Yorichii following close after.

They were in their twenties now and were much older and their faces had changed a lot. But no matter how much they had physically changed [F/N] recognised her brothers, Who both now had surprised yet unrecognisable expressions in their face.

[F/N]'s mouth was open, Her eyes wide and sparkling with recognition.

"[F/N]..." Yorichii said.

"Yori-Nii! Michi-Ni-" She was cut off by the sudden arms pulling her into a tight hug. Michikatsu had moved so fast that she didn't see him move.

"[F/N].." He stuttered, Swaying back and forth while hugging her.

"Nii-san.." [F/N] cried, Gripping the back of his purple hexagonal hakama tightly as she buried her head into the side of his neck.

"You've grown so much.. And look at that" [F/N] grazed the hilt of of his sword, taking in the craftsmenship.

"You've both become swordsmen. I'm so proud, I wish I could've been there to see your ceremony" She whispered.

Michikatsu never responded to her words, instead going into a speech of his own.

"[F/N].. I lost you. You disappeared out of nowhere.. I searched for you for years.." Michikatsu was lost for words. If [F/N] didn't know better she could of sworn he was crying.

"I'm sorry, Michi-Nii. I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I went" [F/N] whispered.

The bear hug grip on her got tighter.

"Never. And I mean never leave me again. You have no idea what you put me through... You better promise" He scolded. [F/N] nodded vigorously.

"I promise."

☆♡☆

"So this is where you've been living for the past ten years?" Michikatsu asked, Looking around the haiden.

The place was a massive hall dedicated to worship of Inari. at the very end was the main worship shrine, Which was bustling with hand-woven straw baskets filled with offerings and lit candles in Inari's honour.

"Yeah.. When I ran away ten years I came across this place and made it my home. Been like that ever since." [F/N] smiled, Proud of the hall.

It was indeed very pretty, The new refurbished decorations of flowers, candles and banner-work created a grandiose appearance. The wooden pillars supported the tall height of the room and had beams at the top connecting them all with baskets filled with flowers hanging from them.

The entire room looked like it was built and cared for by an entire team of shrine maidens, Not a single dust spot to be seen.

Yorichii and Michikatsu stared in awe at the work.

"And you maintained this place all by yourself?" Yorichii asked, Genuinely in wonder at the décor.

"Well.. Apart from the occasional seller I meet when I'm scavenging for food nearest the road.. They sell me candles, Banners and other things needed for maintenance.. It's all done by me." [F/N] explained.

"It's.. Impressive. To think how you learned all this.." Michikatsu said.

"I get all my information from the shrine's library, From then on you figure it out on the way." [F/N] responded, Completely humble to the praise she received.

She turned around to her brothers with a smile.

"What about you two? Tell me what's been happening, And how'd you get that cut?" She asked innocently, Pointing to Michikatsu's bandaged arms

The two twins looked at each other, Having a silent conversation with each other. Contemplating what they should tell. Both of them very apprehensive, they shared a knowing look between them.

[F/N] frowned.

"..Is it not something you want to tell me?" She asked.

"Well.. It's hard to believe but-" Yorichii started.

"It’s just a mistake from sword training. Don't you worry about it." Michikatsu finished.

Yorichii looked over at him, Surprised at his sudden interruption.

[F/N]'s eyes narrowed. She felt curious but decided to drop the subject.

"Well anyways.. I need to go retrieve my fruit basket from outside and do my morning rounds around the shrine. Feel free to have a look around, Just please don't touch anything " [F/N] said, bowing her head low and heading towards the exit.

"Hold on, I'll come with you" Michikatsu said, He went to follow after his sister but was stopped when a hand pulled him back.

"Go on ahead, [F/N]. Michikatsu-Nii will catch up." Yorichii said. [F/N] nodded.

She said goodbye in the form of a hug, Michikatsu then Yorichii.

Michikatsu shot Yorichii a scorning look.

"What do you want?" Michikatsu hissed, The usual irritation of his brother turned up a notch.

"We need to tell her, Nii-san. So we can help her set up wisteria around the place." Yorichii argued.

Michikatsu gritted his teeth.

"Wisteria would be a good idea. But we don't need to tell her about demons, I mean look at her! She's still young" Michikatsu said, exasperated.

"She's eighteen, Nii-san. More than old enough to know about demons, about how to protect herself." Yorichii countered.

"She won't need to learn how to protect herself If I'm there to do it for her" Michikatsu hissed.

Yorichii's face scrunched up. He took a step forward towards Michikatsu and stood steady.

"Nii-san, I know you and [F/N] were attached by the hip when she was young but you can't always be there for her, She's strong enough to survive on her own but not strong enough to survive a possible demon attack, So we need to inform her. She won't let us plant wisteria around the shrine without a very good reason " Yorichii argued, His point stood stronger than he did.

Michikatsu's teeth gritted and his face was a visage of concealed anger like they were standing in the eye of the storm waiting for the inevitable onslaught.

"You always need to know better, Don't you Yorichii?" Michikatsu spat in a low tone.

Yorichii was surprised at Michikatsu's sudden animosity towards him, He was confused. This had never happened before.

"What do you mean to imply by that, Nii-san?" Yorichii asked, Slight worry coming over him for his brother who seemed restless.

Michikatsu suddenly became aware of his sudden outburst, His shoulders dropped from their previously stiff position. He sighed.

"Nothing... I shouldn't of spoke out like that." Michikatsu said, Quickly bowing his head to Yorichii he began to leave the shrine hall.

"Where are you going?" Yorichii called after him.

"To go find [F/N]. And make sure she's alright" He responded, Leaving the hall in search of his little sister.

☆♡☆

Michikatsu looked around the shrine for [F/N].

He walked the halls, checked the empty rooms, searched the courtyard, looked around the perimeter of the shrine and scoured through the shrine's impressively large and overflowing gardens but turned up empty.

He was frustrated. Where could she be? The forest surrounding the temple was fairly thick and shading and who knows? A demon might of been able to cover itself in the foliage and maybe she had left the shrine to pick up her basket only to come face to face with the monster and-

Michikatsu couldn't think anymore about it.

Sweat beads started forming on his head, What if she ran away? She couldn't, she sworn to him that she'd never leave him again. She couldn't of done that to him! What if she wasn't happy to see him and took the chance to leave while he was being lectured by Yorichii?

Yorichii.

Did she favour him over Michikatsu? When you were hugging him to say goodbye he could of sworn you had hugged Yorichii just a little bit tighter than him, Smiled a little bigger, Looked a little happier.

As he searched the halls for a second time he felt another burst of envy rise up in him, Something that had been occurring more and more lately.

His thoughts stopped when he stepped on an uneven dip in the ground. He felt around with his foot and outlined a frame of sorts.

He looked down to see he was standing on a rug. He then looked up realising that he was at the end of the hallway.

He reached down and pulled away the rug revealing a trapdoor, Assumedly leading down to the basement of the shrine.

A basement? Shrines don't usually have basements, He thought to himself.

He noticed the padlock on the handle was unlocked It was also spotless without a trace of dust, Indicating that it was used often.

He opened the door with a small creak of the wood. It revealed a short stone staircase which lead down to a low-ceiling hallway.

Michikatsu raised an eyebrow. He looked left and right before going down the stairs slowly. One step at a time.

He got down to the bottom of the stairs. The ceiling was certainly low as it grazed the top of Michikatsu's head making him feel uncomfortable in the small passageway.

He walked along the tunnel, each of his footsteps producing a faint echo as he went along. The tunnel was comparably cold to the early summer heat from up top.

At the end of the passageway was a wooden door, It looked old and rigid. Looking at the rest of the shrine this was a surprise for Michikatsu as the rest of it was pristine and in perfect shape compared to the derelict looking door.

He reached the door which he now realised was opened just a slight amount.

He pressed his ear to the door, Listening intently.

The sound of cloth on metal sounded on the other side. It was a sound he recognised well, It was polishing of a sword.

He pushed the door open to find [F/N] sitting on her knees with a strange looking sword in hand, a dry cloth in the other.

"Michi-Nii!" [F/N] jumped in surprise and dropped the cloth.

She sat in a much wider room than the hallway. The stone walls were filled with holding frames and shelves, The majority of them empty but still a good few holding rather precious looking trinkets.

At the end of the room which was facing the door and [F/N] held a sort of table harbouring a headpiece stand, Which was obviously suppose to hold the sword in her hands. It was also home to a kitsune mask hanging above it with eyes that looked like it was staring right through him.

"How'd you find the room?" [F/N] said rather surprised.

"Never mind how I found it. Why are you here?" He asked sternly, As if he was scorning a misbehaving child.

"Why am I in a room inside my own shrine?" [F/N] scoffed lightly.

"More of why didn't you tell me where you were, I was worried and I couldn't find you anywhere." He asked more forceful in tone.

[F/N] seemed confused at his reasoning but chalked it up to him still being a little shaken by their reunion.

"...I'm sorry... Coming in here to tend to the artefacts here is apart of my weekly rounds." She explained. A meek look appearing on her face.

Michikatsu sighed.

"Alright then. But please, Tell me next time you wander off into some hidden basement." He said in a softer voice leading to [F/N] calming down.

"What is this room anyways?" Michikatsu asked, Examining the room.

[F/N] peaked up, A sparkle of excitement in her eyes.

"Oh! Well according to the blueprints and builders logs I've found in the library this room was specially built to hold the shrine's treasures. Oh! Wait, hold on!" [F/N] exclaimed.

She reached over to the table in front of her and pulled out a fairly tiny roll of parchment paper, Unfolding it she displayed it to Michikatsu who looked down reading it.

"Apparently one of the noble-clanswoman paying for the building of the shrine here had a really steamy affair with some hot-shot samurai who use to gift her a TON of gifts" [F/N] explained with a passion, Her eyes held a glint of story.

"So to hide them away from her husband she built this little hidey-hole so he wouldn't discover them" She finished.

"What happened to her?" Michikatsu asked, Entertaining her passion.

She only shrugged though.

"No clue, The rest of the parchment was torn and I haven't found the other half..." She said, Disappointment filling her voice.

Michikatsu nodded and looked towards the sword in [F/N]'s lap.

"I can understand the other little objects around here but a sword?" Michikatsu said dumfounded.

[F/N] shook her head.

"No! No. The only two items in the room that weren't a gift was this sword and the kitsune mask hanging over there" She said, Pointing towards the kitsune mask hung by rope.

"Then what are they doing here?"

"They're the shintai that were suppose to be worshipped here at the shrine." [F/N] stretched over and tugged the hanging mask off the rope and presented both it and the sword to Michikatsu, Signalling him to take it.

As he did she told him to be careful while holding them.

The sword was nothing similar to any Katana he's wielded, Nor was it like anything he'd seen in the country. Instead it was built like a very large medieval English sword with the only hint of Japanese influence being the blue hilt which resembled the typical katana.

One side of the sharpened blade was covered in a sort of second sharper metal which glimmered azure in the dim light of the room.

The mask however was oddly designed compared to the usual festival mask. It was made of porcelain and its eyes were carved in a sort of wide eyed stare, The whites of it being a dark black and the pupils sapphire.

Thick cerulean marks adorned the mask, Swirling around the mask and centring at the bullseye of the mask. Except for the ears which were deeply patterned with swirls and flower-esque designs culminating at the covered tips.

The two items radiated a sort of energy from both which Michikatsu couldn't place.

"They're twin artefacts. It's said in the shrines folklore that they belonged to Inari Okami themselves gifted to them by their father, Izanagi. And from the heavens above they dropped them on accident and both the sword and the mask fell to here, The mortal realm" She explained with low wonder.

"The sword is named very bluntly as "The Soul Sword". It's called that because it's said by the previous shrine maidens that when a person is killed by the blade the soul of the person is absorbed into it and prevented from passing onto the afterlife. An eternity in the blade." She told as if it was rehearsed, It probably was.

She pointed to the Mask

"The mask however isn't named but it's said to warp the body of the user to their desire, Disguising themselves completely." She said.

"And does it work?" Michikatsu asked, Studying the mask.

"Haven't tried. It's a sacred artefact of the shrine. It would be a disrespect to Inari if I did." She stated.

Michikatsu examined both of the artefacts as [F/N] rambled away on the tale of the two, They were very well kept.

"You really know a lot about this stuff. Don't you?" He said more of to himself.

[F/N] nodded.

"Yeah. I guess it's just something I'm passionate about" She muttered.

Suddenly, Their conversation was interrupted by a voice upstairs calling out.

"Nii-San! [F/N]!" Yorichii called out from up above them, Voice faint and muffled from the thick stone walls.

Michikatsu groaned being mildly annoyed at being interrupted by Yorichii. [F/N] perked up however.

"That's Yorichii. Better go see what he needs!" She said. [F/N] grabbed both the sword and the mask from Michikatsu's grasp and settling them back with care onto their designed positions, As well as rolling up the parchment paper and putting it under the table

She dusted off her beryl coloured haori and got up from the tatami mat she was sitting on.

"Come on, Better not keep him waiting!" [F/N] said making her way out without waiting for Michikatsu, Who quickly followed after.

They made their way back up the stairs to find Yorichii a few metre's down the hall. He was standing there watching them come up with an arm stretched out, A crow perched neatly on it with a small roll of parchment paper tied to its neck by a string.

"What is it, Yorichii?" Michikatsu asked eyeing the crow.

"Oyataka-sama has summoned us to the headquarters, Urgent meeting." Yorichii said, a tint of unhappiness in his voice.

Michikatsu's face scrunched up in resentment, Obviously not excited by the news.

[F/N] frowned.

"..You've got to leave?" She asked looking up at Michikatsu who looked back with her with an expression saying that he didn't want to. But Yorichii's voice maintained importance.

"..I suppose so.." He said reluctantly. Not wanting to leave his sister alone. His eyes expanded with an idea formed in his head.

"Why don't you come with us, [F/N]?" Michikatsu asked going to stand next to Yorichii. The crow once perched on his arm squawked once. And with a flap of its wings it took off out an ajar window.

[F/N]'s palms suddenly got sweaty at the thought. Her shoulders felt heavy and slumped down with her face portraying one of heavy adversion

She shook her head, Michikatsu's face fell.

"It's not a long trip if that's what you're worried about, If you get tired we can get a horse or I could carry you-" Michikatsu was cut off by [F/N]'s hum of disapproval.

"It's not the trip. It's just I really don't want to leave the shrine unattended y'know?" She asserted. Evidently after spending an entire decade in it's walls she had grown dependant and attached so much to the point she couldn't journey far out of it.

"You can leave the shrine for a few days. Just please come with us, It'll be fine." Michikatsu reasoned, a small ounce of anxiety rising up into his chest at the thought of her being left.

[F/N] shook her head again.

"No, I'm sorry. But it's not forever, You can still come visit!" She spouted in an asking tone, Waiting for him to confirm.

Michikatsu shared a look with Yorichii. Yorichii's look told him he agreed with their sister while Michikatsu's only told of aversion.

However feeling outnumbered in the situation he reluctantly sighed and agreed to [F/N]'s proposal.

With a heavy heart and bag of food [F/N] prepared for their journey, Michikatsu spared one last look to see her before heading out into the forest.

☆♡☆

In the five months that passed from that day forward were probably the happiest days of [F/N]'s life.

Every few days her brothers would come and visit her at the shrine after a mission and they'd stay for around two days before the crow came along and the process started all over again.

She'd even arranged them their own little rooms and the crow would come in advance to announce their arrival so she could prepare them food.

It was nice to be reunited with her family after a decade of solitude. The routine they got into was nice and became sort of domestic.

Though, Over the months [F/N] couldn't help but notice a sort of tension between Michikatsu and Yorichii however it was one-sided. Only Michikatsu initiated it while Yorichii was none the wiser.

It seemed more aggressive as the months went on. Michikatsu focused more on his training similar to what he did when they were younger. He'd have more hostility towards Yorichii and weirdest of all he seemed much more clingy and possessive towards her.

However [F/N] didn't like to think of it. While she knew it was there and she knew they'd have to talk about it at some point, She decided that it'd be better to wait for the right time to bring it up.

Everyday [F/N] would get up at around seven in the morning to do her rounds, Collect food and pray to Inari for an hour or two before going out to the main wooden shrine steps to sit and wait for her brothers to return.

When they did they would eat together, They'd tell stories of their mission no matter how surface level and vague they described it. They'd train outside in the courtyard while [F/N] watched from the steps in awe at their skill.

She recalled back to her childhood and her dream of becoming a samurai like her brothers, While it was true she now favoured the shrine over that old fairy-tale it didn't mean that she still didn't ponder over it often, Daydream while she brushed the floors, Envision the swing of a sword when she spun the brush around.

However of course, It was just a pipe dream. Just a silly pipe dream. But often she asked herself: Why not both?

[F/N] watched Michikatsu from the steps as he practiced sword swings in the shrine courtyard, Taking occasional glances at his sister to make sure she was watching him. The thought ran throughout her head. While she hadn't picked up a sword before other than The Soul Sword (Which at times, She lightly swung it around before setting it down. Then right after feeling ashamed for using a sacred artefact she proceeded to pray for forgiveness at the altar)

She was sure she could try.

While Michikatsu was swinging his sword she had got up from the step with a stumble. She wobbled a little and grabbed the handle bars to steady herself.

She took a deep breath and slowly walked down the stairs which suddenly seemed like a herculean task.

She set her sandal-covered feet onto the courtyard with an unnecessary effort and started walking towards Michikatsu who was only a few metre's ahead of her.

With every step she took her body seemed to get heavier. It felt like weights were being tied to her ankles every time she lifted her foot.

The distance seemed to widen between her and her brother. Her eyelids seemed to get heavier too.

And with another single undignified step her knees collapsed on her. She fell down to the floor with a thump! as her body relaxed and crumpled over on the ground.

Her eyes got blurry as she saw Michikatsu rush over to her tired body and listened to him shout out something she couldn't hear

She closed her eyes and untensed her body. Falling into the pitch black void of unconciousness.

☆♡☆

[F/N] lay motionless in her bed.

A wet cloth lay over her forehead and a light blanket was lain on top of her.

It was two months since that day she collapsed. She was carried by Michikatsu and was rushed to the nearest village where she was seen by a doctor who gave her the diagnosis.

It was her mothers illness, Turning out to be hereditary and passed down onto [F/N]. However this seemed to be more severe and had developed into later stages quickly.

The doctor had said that she should be put in bedrest but despite Michikatsu's yelling and paranoid yelling there was no cure.

The first few days consisted of Michikatsu being hunched over her bed refusing to leave her side. Over the two months he had grown even worse than he did before.

He was angry before. Competitive, Hostile, Aggressive you name it. But now?

Now he was paranoid, Jumpy, Clingy piled on with all of those traits before.

Yorichii couldn't get through to him, He didn't hide his ire towards Yorichii now and hissed insults at him whenever he tried to speak to Michikatsu.

The first month was Michikatsu searching for a cure. He'd travel from village to village trying to find a doctor who could cure [F/N]. He scoured the Shrine's libraries and had gone mad trying.

Four days ago he had told [F/N] that he was going out again and that she was not to leave her bed unless she was going to get food or do her prayers, Which [F/N] had begged to be allowed.

He had stocked up enough food and water in the pantry for his trip when he left.

He told her that he would be back in two days, It was four now. Yorichii had been with her the first month but after he was called out on a very important mission he never came back.

When she asked Michikatsu what happened to him, He wouldn't tell her.

To say [F/N] was worried was an understatement. Michikatsu was never late, He'd always sent his crow to let her know even if he was.

Suddenly she was aware of a loud creaking. The main shrine gates.

Michikatsu must be back, [F/N] thought. A rush of excitement ran through her and overpowered the cold sweat of her sickness.

She'd gotten up from her futon and wrapped herself in her blanket to prevent the cold winter air from bothering her too much.

It was snowing outside. A blizzard had grown strong while she had slept earlier. Before when she was well in the health department she had prepared well for the winter and could survive during it, Making the inside of the shrine warm all throughout the season.

Now however that she depended on her brothers who were nowhere to be found the cold permeated the hallways and stung the tips of her fingers and nose.

She shivered and slid open the shoji doors to hobble through the hallways towards the courtyard, Ready to greet Michikatsu.

However when she quietly opened the door she wasn't greeted by Michikatsu. But instead two strange men with swords standing in the snowstorm. who hadn't seem to notice her yet

"This is it? Seems rundown." One of the men said

"According to his crow this is where he has been staying for the past few months. He must be here, Someone must pay for what he did and hiding here won't prevent what's coming to him." The other growled, Anger etched onto his features.

[F/N], A little insulted at her shrine being called run down, Made herself known by letting out a loud cough.

"Who are you? And what are you doing at my shrine?" The girl asked

The two looked up at the source. Their hands jumped to their sheathed swords as they looked up at her in antagonism.

They slowly approached her, So much so that they were now standing under the wooden porch roof.

[F/N] stumbled back in a way of getting distance between her and the men.

The one that called her shrine rundown stepped forward. He bowed down in respect to her.

"Greetings there. We're sorry to trouble you but we're looking for a man. His name is Yorichii Tsugikuni. He wears hanafuda earing's and his hair in a ponytail. Have you seen him anywhere?" He said.

Swords. Right. These must be Yorichii's colleagues. [F/N] relaxed slightly.

"Oh, You two must be his co-workers!" She exclaimed, Relief flooding her system.

She curtsied in respect.

"My name is [F/N] Tsugikuni. I am his younger sister, Unfortunately I haven't seen him for a month or two and I don't know where he's been. Apologies." I sighed.

The two men looked at each other.

"Sister? You're his sister?" The angrier one said, A hint of hostility in his voice.

Suddenly a chill ran up her spine, Something was wrong.

"Uhm.. Yes." [F/N] said with caution. Though she was tempted to lie, It just wasn't in her nature.

The angrier man now referred to as Man A gripped the hilt of his sheathed sword tighter.

"Well. I don't know if you know this but two months ago your brother... Messed up, Per se. Causing a great loss towards the demon corps..." He said. His words implied something unknown to [F/N]. The corners of her lips twitched. Demon corps? Messed up? The meaning eluding her.

"A lot of people got hurt. Including our father." Man A sneered. His face the exact visage of vengeance.

Man B behind him wasn't as such but still held a face of stone.

The realisation of what was happening hit [F/N] like a freight train. Her hands grew sweaty as they quickly rushed the shoji doors.

"I... I am so sorry to hear that. B-But unfortunately my brother isn't here right now... I've got to go tend to the haiden. Please, Come back later." Her voice trembled and shook despite how much she tried to keep her tone steady and confident.

As her hands tried to quickly shut the shoji doors the metal of a sword stopped the doors from opening fully.

[F/N] yelped and stumbled back from the door. The two men forced their way into the shrine hallway. [F/N] felt her back hit the wall.

"I'm sorry about what is to happen. But Yorichii Tsugikuni needs to pay for what he did and the death of his sister will bring about our revenge. Please forgive us." Man B said finally unsheathing his sword.

Run.

[F/N]'s feet grew light as she took off down the shrine hall, The two men hot on her tail as she careened round the corners and throughout the shrine.

She felt her heart pound heavy in her chest. Both from the almost paralysing fear and the illness coursing throughout her system.

Her legs felt weak but carried on. Her pace just a little bit faster than the men behind her despite all odds, She unconsciously thanked the hours she spent out in the woods running around for resources.

Tears burst like a dam from her eyes and flew from her eyes as she sprinted. Choked sobs periodically interrupted the heavy breaths she took from running.

The faster she ran, The more corners she turned the more thoughts ran rampant throughout her head.

Exits? Only the main gate which she was currently running away from and were closed on the way in, It takes too much time to open those doors and the men would catch up to her in no time. Convince them to stop? Impossible. The men seemed determined in their goal and no amount of talking would change anything. The hidden room? On the other side of the shrine and she didn't have the key on her

[F/N] had gained a bit of distance from the men at this point, Having shook them off her trail for a very short amount of time.

She ran to where her heart took her, To the place she felt safest.

The offering hall which use to look bright and full of flowers, baskets of food and was spotless now was empty and cold. The candles went long unlit and a bit of dust built up and went into the air when she slammed open the doors, Making her cough.

[F/N] ran to the altar with her legs trembling. She fell to her knees in front of it crying her eyes out. Her body positioned into its usual prayer formation as she choked out her sobs.

"Please! Inari. I-I'm going to die... I haven't asked for anything from the day I've got here... Please spare my life.. L-Let me live! I don't want to die, Inari. Please.. Please.." [F/N] broke down in front of the altar as she chanted please over and over again like a sacred sutra.

She wailed quietly in front of the shrine letting all her emotions out from her eyes.

She never noticed the men standing behind her as she prayed. Their expressions serious and unaffected by the girl's unheard prayers.

Man A raised his katana. Holding it in his grasp he raised it high above his head.

And with a yell he swiftly brought it down.

Blood splattered the offerings room. Drenching the two men and the girl below, The blade going straight through her back.

☆♡☆

Cold.

It was so cold.

The men had left her there bleeding, How long ago she didn't know.

She had made her way out of the shrine. Past the main doors, Past the entrance gate and the pathway and out into the main part of the forest.

The blade had went right through her chest out the other side, She gripped it tightly while the blood stained her dragon-patterned haori colouring it crimson.

It was a miracle she had got this far out into the blizzard. The tip of her nose had frozen and her jaw chattered letting out cold air.

She weakly turtled into her haori for warmth however it proved futile.

The white snow behind her left a red trail as she walked.

Soon enough it was too much.

Soon enough, She collapsed.

☆♡☆

Quickly throughout the forest, Kokushibo ran quickly up the mountain through the unrelenting blizzard, Which never stung him in the slightest.

It had only been a few hours since he woke up from consuming that man's blood. His appearance now changed from the transformation which took three days to complete.

He carried a vial of that mans blood in one of his hands. He remembered the deal vividly in his mind.

Strength for him, A way to become stronger. Stronger than his brother. A way to avoid the eventual fate of all those who bore the demon slayer mark.

And a vial of that man's blood to save his dying sister.

He ran like hell. Snow crunching from the rapid footsteps behind him.

He stopped however, When the faintest scent of blood invaded his senses.

All three sets of his eyes widened.

He picked up his pace again. Now heading toward the smell.

His heartrate picked up. It couldn't be. It can't. [F/N] was alright. She was okay. Even now after becoming a demon, He still felt possessiveness affection towards his sister.

He came to a halt.

His heart dropped to his stomach as he tried to comprehend the sight in front of him. His eyes widened and his jaw slack open.

There in the snow, Lay a body curled up in a fetal position.

Snow had built up on it. It lay motionless buried in the snow.

He recognised it as [F/N].

"[F/N]!!" He yelled, running over to the body.

He fell to his knees in front of her and shoved off all the built up snow.

He pulled her body so her head was laying down on his lap. He shook her gently.

"...[F/N].. Wake up. Come on." He whispered. His shaking now growing more frantic to her lack of response.

He looked at the vial in his right hand.

Opening her mouth he popped open the seal and poured the red liquid into her mouth.

He watched it pour onto her tongue and down her throat. He waited for the reaction.

However, Nothing came.

He waited and waited. Nothing.

He felt his eyes water and flow out from them as the dawning realisation hit him.

He was holding his little sister's corpse in his arms.

He couldn't protect her. She had died and he wasn't there to protect her.

He yelled, Screamed and cried. In anger, Frustration, Sorrow, Guilt and mourning for his loss. He couldn't do anything.

However when he finally noticed the stab wound he realised this was murder. He could do something.

He carried his sister's body in his arms and pulled her close to his chest as he quietly grieved for her.

He brought her body back to her beloved shrine and set her down at the head of the shrine where she loved the most.

He'd deal with her body later. But for now he had to get revenge for the death of his little sister.

Using his blood demon art to make a sword he gripped it tight.

He set off into the blizzard already with a scent on the targets.

He looked back once at the shrine. The last remaining parts of his humanity dying in there with his sister

And with that he left. Never to look back again.

☆♡☆

It was five hundred years ago.

Kokushibo began reminiscing when he sat in front of her gravestone. What he did that night.

He had gotten his revenge, The two slayers slowly tortured and then eaten by him. Their screams and their pleads for mercy when they showed [F/N] none.

He had started with the fingers and toes, Then he moved up to the lower limbs, Slowly he ate them alive. He made one of them watch him while he ate, All before he moved onto them.

He made them confess who killed her to which after a little persuasion they admitted easily.

They got the worst of it, He didn't even eat him after the torture. Just left him pinned to a tree bleeding out. He had put him up high only giving him the options of freezing to death, bleeding out or dying from the fall.

The memories rewound in his head like a film. Flashing memories of when she was born and he got to cradle her in his arms. All the way up until he only held her lifeless corpse, Killed too soon.

He had mourned for a long time after that, Never really getting over her death, Not even now as he set down the new flowers on her grave built near the house they grew up in.

He couldn't bring himself to consume her body, He could never. It was too much.

He got up and dusted himself off, Just like she use to do.

He turned away and walked into the night, Melding into the shadows as he went off to find his next meal.

☆♡☆

The morning rays shun down on the Ubuyashiki Estate. Flowers in full bloom with wisteria ripe in the air.

Birds chirped and grasshoppers hummed in the bushes. The neatly trimmed and well kept garden a fit home for them

The Hashira had gathered and stood in front of the porch awaiting the arrival of their master. They talked amongst themselves in the meantime.

Mitsuri, The Love Hashira tugged on the hand of another. A soft smile gracing her face.

"Fujimori-san! You should really come out with me sometime, It's been ages since we've done something together!" Mitsuri teased lightly.

Fujimori laughed lightly from behind the kitsune mask with cerulean markings he (he?) wore. The medival english looking sword positioned in front of him pointing downward, His two hands gripping the katana-like hilt.

He was tall and muscular but had more of an athletic build. He had tattoo's from his neck to his lower arms describing pictures typically seen in shrine art.

His blue dragon-patterned haori that was draped around his lower arms lightly wove in the wind along with his [H/C] locks tied into a ponytail.

"What do you mean? We went on a mission together last week!" He chuckled.

Mitsuri huffed and lightly gripped his hand

"When I mean spend time together I mean like we should go to a hot spring or go out to eat together or-" Mitsuri continued rambling on as she listed off possible activities they could do together.

Fujimori, [F/N] listened intently onto her as she talked.

She (She? She.) however was only thinking of his visions: A sick woman, A woman with fox markings and a man in a purple hakama.

She'd need to figure it out later.

Next chapter

1K notes · View notes

helloescapist · 1 year ago

Note

I'm so sorry to send another request so soon, especially since my other one hasnt even been answered yet, but I got an idea recently too good to pass up. That doesn't mean you have to do it soon, you can do it whenever you want. But basically, heres the idea:

Headcanons of Gyutaro (KNY) and (Michi) Reader's reincarnations in the modern world still living with congenital syphilis, but this time they become close friends instead of enemies? Like, they still get targeted for their condition, but despite that, support and help each other through the dark times?

Basically a sequel of sorts to Parallell Paths

I love this! I love this! I love this!

Converging Paths | Gyutaro

Word Count: 4284

Setting: modern!Gyutaro x gn!reader (platonic)

Content Warning(s): mentions of psoriasis, child neglect, abuse

Summary: an unlikely meeting between former opponents.

A/N: due to the modern world’s perinatal care, congenital syphilis is not as likely to occur in the majority of first-world countries such as Japan, I’ve opted for a non-specific skin condition as there are a number of conditions that can easily be confused for syphilis (and an attached stigma) to express a more modern experience.

Fresh and earthy, the crips scent that carried the impending summer weather touched upon the breeze that drifted between the slips of sheer curtains. Rolled with each breeze, touched upon citrus, and unnamed flowers, small touches of salt that carried upon the light air. Air that pressed against your skin, the small touch of sweat that threatened its way through your bangs, as the scent of bamboo caught upon your nose. Warmed your breast and dampened the mundane task of paddling the musk from classroom. Stroke the fibers one against another, paused breaths as the fine dust formed clouds upon the drafted classroom air.

The small respite of a breeze that greeted the crept of the windows, pressed between fingers that grasped upon the panes. Locked at the tips, as your classmates greeted the summer day. Small clips of commodity pressed between giggles, squeezed into the idle chatter from behind you as the distinct stifled yawns caught on the edge of another. Your own gaze drifted at the task of hand; nose slightly wrinkled at the press of the coarse material between your fingers. Stale, and uninterested in entertaining the gossip of the remaining assigned cleaning crew. Chatter that spewed latest gossips, delighted in rumors of recent lovers, cooed over split pairings, tossed in flirtatious remarks, and purred wishful encounters. The humdrum of junior high school girls fantasizing of unlikely rendezvous unremarkable amongst the drifting summer day. Routine and mundane expected as the small hushed utters that had fallen as you rolled up your sleeves, subjecting yourself to the task at hand as well as the murmurs that passed between clasped hands.

Though the school year had passed without incident, the consistent shuffling of those assigned club activities, cram schools, and drawn repeated rough drafts had ensured your cleaning companions were rarely repeat classmates and remained subjected to the onslaught of pressed smiles. Murmurs whispered at the catch of the bumps that kissed at your flesh, splattered amongst your skin in abstract formations. Raised edges of blossomed bumps that met the day’s air, less inflamed than the remainder of patches touches of salmon that dipped into shades of China rosed. Agitated hues of carmine red and blistered at the scrape of your school uniform that clasped at your elbows, the scratch of the collar pinned and aching. Dry and irritable abrasions that littered your forearms, the depths of your condition had always surprised your peers despite the notable fall of scars that lined your cheeks, touched beneath your eyes as though the fallen beauty of spring, succumbed petals of winter seared into your skin.

The hush of the girls piercing and low, small, pressed whispers amongst each other. One that expressed concerns, questioned your condition and ability to complete the chore of cleaning the chalkboard and erasers. While the disgust met the other girl’s, clear and reprimanding recoiled her willingness to offer further interactions. Openly berating the kindness of her friend for the harrowing realities such conditions could bear, hissed well intended warnings to her confidant, insisted horrors of shared medical conditions. Bore similarities to the ostracizing of lepers, uneducated disgusted dripped in fears of unfamiliar circumstances.

The small sigh pressed between your lips as your eyes met at the sleeve rolled to your elbow as your worked in discomfort. The tip of her voice tainted with repugnance though you had known all too well that her ire was born of miscomprehension. Drawn in silence, pressed at your lips, whispered the small touch of a bitter smile. All too familiar and understandable. The pressed smiles of customer service employees who did their best to maintain a professional air between close encounters; mothers who hushed manners and disbursed their children’s inquiries. The shock of would-be suitors whose attraction and devotion changed at a moment’s notice. Confusion and ill ease, fears born of contamination, admirers distraught at your growing disfigurement as they mourned your delicate features. The sympathies of the educated, melancholy smiles that shattered with pity. Though you knew all too well your classmate’s concerns and understood all too well that it was born of fear, but the pain that it bore was all too familiar as you allowed soft sigh to release between your lips, your shoulders to relax, as you scrubbed the board.

“Oi, Takahashi, take a look at this,” Morita hummed, fingers pressed against a cloth between the windowpanes, having slid the windows in his duties. Dark eyes drew forward the tilt of his head, beckoning his friend forward.

One of the few reoccurring encounters you had had in the school year, Takahashi nonchalant in his interactions with you lent itself to the bored yawn he tucked not his hand. Disconcert at the tilt of his own head, eyes that found the courtyard. “Hmm?” Mused and jaded as the stale gaze as his brown eyes fluttered out the window. “Geez, you think he’d just ignore them.” The sigh pressed and sympathetic at the toss of his head.

“How can he? They never leave him alone,” Morita sighed, shaking his head.

“Hey, [LN],” Takahashi waved you over, “do you know this guy, you know with—well…” small gesture that wiggled over his own cheeks. Absolutely lacking in any situation awareness despite the dig of Morita’s elbow in his side.

Gestured to the windows, the sigh evident on your breath shaking your head, placed the erasers to the board before allowing your uwabaki to scrap against the flooring. Heavy foot that bore your unwillingness to endure whatever drama the school yard to drudge up for entertainment. Hand against the window seal fingers touched upon the warm glass at the scene before you. Four third years considering the size difference against one second year, the small details of their school motifs, a small indicator of their class year. The older boys standing a bit taller, the jostle of their laughter crude and near unbearable.

Mocking, and antagonizing, taunting that drew inspiration from the lower classman’s physical. Small gestures of drawing attention to the under dog’s facial features. Another upperclassmen, Okada from 3D if you remembered correctly—a real ass slumped over, as if to mock the natural dip of the boy’s shoulders that folded down. The tuck of his head, the small of his chin sharp from what you could tell as it dipped to his collar bone. Bones that met at joints, skin that plunged into the gaps, wary and tired as it endured the weight of its own skeleton. Muscles that strained, rocked from heel to heel, the dip of thin, spindle fingers that caught at his elbows. Tucked into himself, paper-thin eyelashes that attenuated round eyes. Sunken inwards, exhausted, and warn down. Trembled lips that caught on jagged teeth, the junior high boy anxiously surveying the older boys, searching for an escape. The touch of nervous chartreuse eyes that strayed, averted gazes, and jumbled at the clear snip of a voice that wrangled from his bones. A mop of hair that captured a spring bud’s emerging warmth, touched upon a shade only pears could envy. Hs voice graveled, and nervous, the small reveal of anger beginning to furrow. Purce flesh bumped against abrasion. The litter of corrosion, rashes, and bumps that marred his complexion gave way to scars. “Shabana, Class 2C,” Morita sighed sympathetically. The met of his eyebrows as he shook his head, “poor guy really knows how to attract them.”

Shabana’s clumsy steps drawn backwards, shattered at the back of the schooling as your eyes followed the scene through the second-floor window. The snippets of conversation leave little to the imagination—it would appear the second year had made the mistake of growing brave in the past week. The staunched remarks a common form of entertainment for the upperclassmen, was unappreciative of the sudden growth of character of their target, called into action the audacity of the boy daring to retort back to his senpais, now corralled the mid classman as though he were livestock. Flanked from all sides, jeers, and taunts open and available with only onlookers offering sympathetic regards. None daring to impart intervention nor step their foot into the affairs-- Okada was notorious for his fowl temper, a junior high student that stood a near foot taller than everyone else. The rumor mill had circulated him for some time, murmured mentions of gang activity, others depicted that he had been held back (not that you would be surprised, he lacked any form articulation, and his grades were…), and the occasional swore that he was in fact a grown man with a wife and child at home masquerading as a junior high student. Yet, there was a quiver in Shabana’s bones, the nervous ache that met a small snarl, a pup with a little bite left to bear. “Take it back,” he growled, his eyebrows quivering as they met the height of his sunken state. “Take back what you said about Ume, now.”

“Ha,” the grin blossomed across Okada’s features. Met at a crude state, snickered shamelessly. Eyes that met his lackeys with a scoff, “nah, little bastard. Everyone here knows what a slut your little sister is, it’s only a matter of time before she’s screaming my name.”

The crack was shattering. Cracked knuckles, threatened to shatter on contact. The snarl undeniably, suddenly dripped with distain. Tainted in wrath and coiled as a snake that threatened to strike a second blow furrowed at the gnash of his jagged teeth rolled in the sway of his collar bone and uneven at the rock of his bones. “I said. TAKE IT BACK.” Rolled at the sway of interlopers, Okada’s features morphed and surprised. The bruising already beginning to set. The odds of four against one as clear as the track of the window wretched open beneath your hands, and the memories that flooded your senses. Drew you backwards, as though stepped through time, through memories left in another life, your reaction no longer your own, but of a ghost who guided your movements as you slipped out the second floor window.

His head hurt. His head, really hurt. The ache across his cranium came in waves, thundered against the cap of his skull. Slammed as though he had rattled his brain, his teeth shook with each breath as his thin eyelashes batted lazily. His thoughts felt jumped, Gyuutarou struggled to grasp his surroundings. Grappled with his cognition, the faint recollections… a fight? No? Ah wait, there had been something. He had been made, madder than he had been in a long time. The last time he could recall being dragged to the depths of such hatred had been at the hands of one of his mother’s temporary flings, and before that… Who had it been?

The press of memories, small and insignificant in away he could not grasp. The mangle of chartreuse hair, jaundice in appearance. Sickly and deformed, jagged teeth dipped in blood. Revenged as a nightmare amongst the night sky—no, it wasn’t that he could not recall. When he squeezed his eyes, when his conscious threatened to fade to sleep, when his mother had slapped him harder than expected, or the shake of her boyfriend enough to rattle his teeth—there were glimpses. Fleeting. Small recollections of a battle, of morbid curiosities and a misplaced soft smile that met his blade. A tender smile, soft and understanding, far more connected than a stranger passing on the street, but in his entire life, he had never been able to place whose smile it had belong to, and to be greeted with the faint recollection dipped into his groggy state as his yellow-green eyes traced the clouds above, it left a gnawing impression. Ume, that’s right. He had gotten his ass handed to him.

Gyuutarou needed to get up; he knew this. Knew his little sister was likely waiting for him at the school gates, if she had not already gone home to prepare dinner. He could feel the crack of dried blood that met his pursed lips—he needed to wash up. Needed to scrub all evidence of the scuffle from his complexion. It was something, he couldn’t quite put in to words. Displaced understanding, but ah, it may have been the concussion forming at his temple. The touch of the blades of grass beneath his hands, it had always been this way, or at least so he thought. Some small touch of a promise, a soft smile—he didn’t want Ume to see him this way. He wanted to grow, to ensure they left their mother’s dingey apartment. College, Gyuutarou wanted his little sister to go to college. The crushing sigh that slipped between his lips.

“Awake?” your voice resonated in his ears. Soft, curious, but its sudden intrusion left him off center. Nervous. Drew him from his laid-back position. Shocked and furrowed, back arched as an irritated, cautious cat that threatened to yowl. Positioned to his side, unbothered by the pass of day to night. The quiet of the school yard, students slipped home from clubs, bid farewell to friends and retreated to home. The touch of a popsicle between your lips as you peeked at him curiously, “You’ve been out for a few hours.”

Nonchalant and smooth, pressed between the blue popsicle. Comforted against summer, allowing your fingers to rummage across the remainder of the package. Procuring its partner and probing it forward. Offering to share. The littler of your scars at the high of your cheeks, the soft gaze of your eyes as your eyes met their own. Blisters that formed marred the soft roundness of your cheeks. Dainty features that would draw the envy of his mother, and furrow of his sister. Black hair as luminous as spilled ink, and thick eyelashes could make a mockery of any doll. The small press of the popsicle, as he cautiously eyed the offering before allowing you to press the stick between his fingers. His eyes left to wander from the treat, back to you, and back again. Confused? Was it his head? No, no this was weird, odder was the touch of nostalgia. The touch of peace that threatened to dull his senses, whispered comfort and reassurance in a way he could not trace. Nor comprehend. The frayed edges of his nerves slipping from his fingertips oblivious to the way the corner of his mouth caught at the kind offer. Drew forth a shy smile, as his eyes traced the popsicle given by a complete stranger. “It appears not much has changed in 200 years.”

Gyuutarou Shabana could feel his soul quiver. As though a broken piece of himself had been set to a flame, vibrated in a frequency unheard amongst any other as his eyes met your own. Shattered memories. Mashed together, slowly than quickly. Rattled his consciousness, slammed his bones, left his thoughts reeling. As though it were a track that threatened to skip. Small snippets as though a movie tape that had been torn from its hinges. Scenes of blood, of battered bones, shattered ribs, reeked of lavish perfumes, and the soft glow of a smile that met his gaze. Recollections slowly glued back together as the soft glow of your smile upon him once more, just as it had so many years ago.

“But I have to say… Oni-chan, you look beautiful when you smile.”

Modern Day Headcanons | Gyuutarou Shabana

Since reincarnating, Gyuutaro has tried his hardest to turn things around. He has done his best to ensure that Ume is raised properly this time around, but that doesn’t mean that the stars have aligned for him.

Once again, fates have left him in a neglectful mother’s care. One who would opt to entertain her current boyfriend, even if it means abandoning her children to their own devices for weeks on end. The earliest back he can recall being left to fend for Ume and himself was when he was only six years old. Terrified and doing his best to cook packaged ramen on the stove using his step stool. His mother had sold the microwave to chase her addiction.

He caught on early on through his school education, that what a mother was, or what a mother should be was not what he had been given, and though he was little and could not understand the abuses he endured, and often faced at the flare of her temper, or those of her most recent fling, some small part of Gyutaro clung to the faint reminders of a soft smile.

In the hopes that one day, someone might smile for him like those of his memories.

So, he pressed forward.

Gyutaro continued to get rise early every morning even in his first years of elementary to prepare Ume for the day. He would wake up long before his little sister’s alarm went off, crept throughout the small run down apartment for fear of waking his mother, and gather small breakfast items together.

Then, he would wake his sister, brush her hair, do his best to style it in a way she liked he melted with pride when she delights in her hairstyle. Gyutaro helps dress her, and often if she’s too tired from listening to their mother’s arguments with her supposed lovers, he would carry her to the babysitter before taking off for school.

Skipped meals to be able to buy her a birthday cake.

When she entered elementary school, he realized that all of the other children had bentos lovingly packed by their parents. Up until now, he simply skipped lunch to ensure he had money for Ume. So, he set to work doing his best to clumsily peel apples, cook rice, and pack lunch. It- It wasn’t cute at first, and at one point he felt a deep sense of shame before wandering back to the babysitter who had cared for Ume all of those years, a little granny in the neighborhood before asking her to teach him.

He swallowed his little pride.

Ume never cared how messy her lunches were, she would punch any kid in the face who said anything about her brother’s bentos.

His skin condition is miserable, without proper care, Gyuutarou has been left to suffer the symptoms of his condition. He’s often itchy, blistered, and his bones ache, but he has never allowed Ume to catch him feeling this way.

His mother never prioritized taking care of him, and so, Gyuutarou simply did his best with the basic hygiene knowledge he acquired through television cartoon shows, and remedies offered by the school nurse. At night when Ume is already in bed, he will slip out frozen cooked rice to place on his recent flare ups for just a moment of peace.

As you can imagine, even in the modern era, Gyuutarou has not lived an easy life, but he clings to the small snippets of a memory, one in which a stranger smiles at him, and another person sought better for their sister. He tells himself he can do it too.

He’s clinging.

As a child, Gyuutarou is… well, he’s what you would expect as a child of abuse and impoverish areas. He’s quite, withdrawn from his peers. Any opportunity to connect to others is nearly snubbed out, and as his flareups began to occur with no medical care, his isolation hit a peak. He grew accustomed to his classmates either pretending he didn’t exist, or prayed they would forget him.

Frequently a victim of bullying.

Did his best to hide his face when he would pick Ume up from school, worried he would embarrass her.

A really, really sweet kid who just wanted attention. Clung to the first teacher who gave him attention. Regularly continues to greet them, even after he has long since left their class.

Really, he tends to cling to anyone who showed him any attention, or kindness in his youth. Routinely greets Ume’s old babysitter, has really just adopted her as his old grandma.

Let’s be honest, no matter how good of a friend you are, Ume and Gyuutarou have hit a delinquent era in their later junior high to early high school years. I wouldn’t say they are as dark as their pat life in the Meiji Era (I mean, they’re not eating anyone).

It’s- It’s to be expected.

For Ume, you can expect a lot of behaviors to dance into her prior life as an oiran.

However, for Gyuutarou, there will be moments where he slips into his old self. No so much out of pride, but rather as a protective layer. The easiest way to cope with rejection, is more often than not to reject those around you.

So, he does.

He becomes louder, noticeably bristled when people stare.

Fowl language, is known for casually using obscene language. Tattoos, piercing, finding comfort in the alternative aesthetic. Let’s be honest—the prep look will not work out for him. There is also the issue of his own skin conditions, the starch often used for the fine lined clothes are more likely to irritate him. Where as the vintage clothes have a tendency to have the “worn out” affect, softer material, and tension pulled from them.

They just don’t irritate his skin as much as the more mainstream clothing.

Actually, I would believe Gyuutarou has an anxiety disorder of some sort causing him to pick at his blemishes, further irritating his rash.

Scratch that, Gyutaro in the modern world very well could have Sensory Processing Disorder. Sensitivity to the noise and blusting around him, agitated by the noise and lights, distaste of perfumes, or sticky textures. Being TOUCHED. Wearing shoes! I can see it I can see it, but this could also be a manifestation of abuse. Must be investigated.

Gyuutarou takes a lot of your advice seriously. If you are the more rational type, he at times may use you as a sort of guide—a conscious to consider if this is the best course of action. The truth is that he has no real guardian in his life, and without a proper guidance, he’s worried that he will (again) ruin Ume’s life, and because of this, he takes any of your counsel into great consideration.

However, this is not always the case.

There are times, where his anger gets the best of him, where his circumstances, his upbringing in this life and the last overwhelm him, threaten to drown him indesolation. He becomes biting, lashing out to those around him, even his little sister. Desperate to flee, eager to seclude himself. To turn away from the outside world, from school, from his sister, from his duties, and even you, his best friend.

Depression is a common issue for Gyuutarou, and one that he will grapple with admitting to. It’s not that he’s embarrassed per say, but—who would really care how he feels? Struggles with self-worth for obvious reasons.

I headcanon that the reader from parallel paths was reunited with their mother in the modern world, born to her in a healthy condition, one in which she does not have to bid you farewell. Fiercely protective of you--- fretting if you are remembering to take your medicine, your ointment for your skin condition. Ready to beat anyone who dares say anything about your blemishes.

She’s beautiful, as lovely as the oiran of the past, but there’s an unspoken beauty. A softness, warmth in her regards. Life that was not there, she has fully adapted to the modern expectatiosn of a house wife—in fact, finds a joy in having the opportunity to actually RAISE you. An overly doting mother.

Happily welcomes Gyuutaro and Ume’s drop ins when they visit, without so much a comment to their odd state of dress, or the new jewelry addition to Ume’s tongue. Rather, her first response is to look Gyutarou over, touch his cheek, and inquire if they’ve had dinner yet. Of course they haven’t. Always happy to welcome them to the dinner table.

Frets when they insist on leaving—shamelessly pulling out reserved frozen cooked rice, curry, snacks, whatever she can think of. Has taken to having a few snacks on hand for when they pop in.

The obvious pout when Gyutaro and Ume do not spend the night--- she knows that more often than not their mother is not consistent with paying the water bills. Worries about their wellbeing, and frequently slips ointment into Gyutaro’s backpack when no one is looking. Accepts the boy does not want his sister to know, but also understands your own condition enough to know. He. Is. Miserable.

As friends, Gyutarou needs someone who can feel at peace with the world. That can remind him of the simple beauties in every day. The sunrise, and the sunset. The welcome of spring, and cherry blossoms. The touch of snow upon your finger tips, or the tip of your tongue. The small smile upon witnessing the arrival of butterflies, or the crunch of leaves beneath your feet.

He’s stressed, and far too captivated by adult responsibilities, that having a friend who reminds him that—well, he’s still a child is essential. Even more is having someone to listen to him. To notice him.

To smile at him.

#🍡tsuyospeaks #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #gyutaro x reader #kny modern au #parallel paths

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