#kyofusho x reader

[tnsophiaonly]

WTFFF, Kyo sounds so tragic that adero might have a competition frfr

❝WHERE SHADOWS CLING TO LIGHT❞

⌗ -⪼ Kyofusho, a shadowed and tormented soul, finding solace and obsession in the light of the merchant's —your— kindness. It acts as both a statement of their bond and a poetic reflection of the tragedy that threads through the universe.

—–-–-—⟩»⟩ In the dusky amber of twilight, where the horizon bled into shades of violet and gold, a solitary figure wove through the cobblestone alleys of an ancient marketplace. The air was thick with the scent of sun-warmed spices and the faint, distant melody of a minstrel's lute. This was no place for shadows, and yet Kyofusho moved like one—a specter unnoticed in the bustling crowd. His cloak, tattered and frayed, billowed behind him, a phantom in the light of day.

He was no stranger to hunger, its gnawing ache a constant companion since the days he first woke in a world that had long since cast him out. A child, reborn and forsaken, with the memory of a name—Kyofusho, Nightmare—but nothing more. His hollow, pitch-black eyes, void of pupils, mirrored the emptiness that clawed at his soul. They whispered of otherness, of monstrosity, and the world, in its cruelty, had responded in kind.

Today, hunger drove him again, a relentless torment that urged his hands toward forbidden acts. The stalls brimming with ripe fruit and glimmering trinkets called to him, their abundance mocking his scarcity. Yet, his target was not a bauble or a loaf of bread but something far more alluring: a merchant whose wares gleamed with the promise of plenty, their presence radiating a peculiar warmth through the cold indifference of the crowd.

You.

Your stall was a modest haven amidst the opulence of the market. The cloth canopy above you rippled in the gentle breeze, casting dappled sunlight upon your wares. Handmade goods, carved with precision and care, lay neatly arranged, each a testament to your craftsmanship. There was a softness in your demeanor, an open kindness that drew people to you. You spoke with warmth, your voice a melody that seemed to calm the restless hearts of all who approached.

Kyofusho watched from the shadows, his gaunt figure pressed against the cool stone of a nearby wall. He had chosen you as his mark, but as he observed, he found himself hesitating. The lines of your face, the gentleness of your movements, they stirred something unfamiliar within him—a longing not for sustenance but for understanding. Still, desperation was a cruel taskmaster, and so, steeling himself, he moved.

In a blur, his hand darted toward your stall, fingers brushing against the edge of a cloth pouch heavy with coin. But you, sharp-eyed and perceptive, caught the motion. Your hand shot out, gripping his wrist with surprising strength.

“Halt,” you said, your tone firm but devoid of malice. The single word hung in the air, an invocation of stillness.

Kyofusho’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to fracture. He expected scorn, anger, or fear, but your eyes held none of these. Instead, they reflected something alien to him: compassion.

“Thou art hungry,” you murmured, your voice low, as though speaking to a wounded animal. “Why dost thou steal, stranger? Speak thy troubles, for the world may yet offer thee reprieve.”

The old tongue, the cadence of your words, struck him like a thunderclap. He had heard it before, in fragments of dreams long forgotten. His mouth opened, dry and trembling, but no sound emerged. Shame gripped him, its icy fingers tightening around his throat. What could he say? That the world had marked him as its enemy before he had ever drawn breath?

You released his wrist, stepping back, and to his utter astonishment, you offered him a small loaf of bread. “Take this,” you said, your tone softening. “And shouldst thou need more, return not as a thief, but as one in need.”

He took the bread with trembling hands, his blackened eyes searching your face for some sign of mockery, but finding none. In that moment, something fractured within him—a dam holding back years of bitterness and despair. He turned and fled, the bread clutched tightly to his chest, but your voice lingered in his mind like the fading notes of a song.

Kyofusho returned the next day, drawn not by hunger but by something far more consuming. He lingered at the edges of the market, watching as you worked, your presence a light he could not look away from. Days turned to weeks, and though he never approached, he became a constant shadow in your life, his gaze always seeking you out. He began to understand the rhythm of your days, the small habits that marked your routine. The way you hummed as you arranged your wares, the way your lips curved into a soft smile when a child tugged at your sleeve.

But with this growing attachment came a gnawing fear, a voice in the back of his mind that whispered of inevitability. You will ruin this, as you ruin all things. They will see you for what you are, and they will turn away.

One evening, as the market emptied and the sky turned to ink, he found the courage to approach. You were closing your stall, the light of a single lantern casting a warm glow over your figure. He stepped into the circle of light, his presence a jarring contrast to the warmth.

“Thou return’st,” you said, your tone neither surprised nor fearful. “Hast thou come to speak thy truths?”

Kyofusho’s voice, hoarse from disuse, rasped like the wind through dead leaves. “Why dost thou not fear me?”

Your brow furrowed, and you tilted your head, as though considering his question. “Fear is oft born of ignorance. But thou art no stranger to me now. I see thee, not as others see. Thou art… lost, aye, but not wicked.”

The words struck him like a blow. He wanted to believe you, to let your kindness wash over him and erode the walls he had built. But the years of scorn, the names, the torches and ropes, they loomed large in his memory.

“I am a monster,” he whispered, the words tasting of ash. “I bring ruin to all I touch.”

“Thou art what thou choosest to be,” you replied, stepping closer. Your hand, warm and steady, reached out to touch his arm. “And I see in thee a soul yearning for more than this darkness.”

The warmth of your touch burned against his skin, and for the first time in years, he felt the sting of tears. He fell to his knees before you, his gaunt frame wracked with sobs. You knelt beside him, saying nothing, only offering your presence.

But the world is not kind to monsters, nor to those who dare love them. Word of Kyofusho’s presence in the market soon spread, and with it, the whispers of fear. The knights came, their shining armor a stark contrast to the grim reality of their intent. You tried to protect him, to speak on his behalf, but your pleas fell on deaf ears.

They bound him in ropes, silencing his protests, and dragged him away. But even as they took him, his void-like eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw not fear but a promise—one that sent a shiver down your spine.

Kyofusho would return. The world may see him as a nightmare, but to you, he was something far more tragic, far more dangerous. He was a man who had tasted the warmth of your kindness, and in doing so, had become utterly, irrevocably yours.

- The prison walls were as cold and unyielding as the world that had condemned him. Days blurred into nights, and Kyofusho sat in the shadows of his cell, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. Your face, your voice, the way your hand had lingered on his arm as if he were not an abomination—these memories burned brighter than the dim torchlight that flickered outside his door.

He whispered your name in the darkness, the syllables a prayer and a curse. You had given him something he had never dared to dream of: hope. And now, in the confines of this cage, that hope twisted into something darker, more desperate. The world had taken everything from him, but it would not take you.

“I will return to thee,” he murmured, his voice a vow carried on the wings of the night. “Even if I must rend the heavens and the earth asunder, I shall find thee once more.”

Meanwhile, you could not rest. The sight of him being dragged away haunted your every waking moment. The market, once a place of joy and connection, now felt hollow without his shadow lingering on its edges. You found yourself wandering the paths he had once tread, searching for traces of him in the quiet night.

- The marketplace felt barren, as though the vibrancy of its colors had been stolen away with Kyofusho’s absence. The days passed in a haze, each one bleeding into the next, until you could no longer bear the weight of your inaction. Your heart was a restless tide, surging with the need to make amends for your failure to protect him.

You began asking questions in hushed tones, seeking any information about where they had taken him. The guards’ gazes turned suspicious, the merchants whispered behind your back, but you cared not. The world might see you as foolish for aiding a man like him, but they did not understand. They had not seen the anguish in his eyes, the way he clung to the fragments of humanity that remained within him.

Finally, your persistence bore fruit. A sympathetic stablehand, who had overheard the guards speaking, whispered to you of a fortress far beyond the hills. It was a place where the unwanted were sent, a prison for those deemed unfit for the light of day. You knew the journey would be perilous, but the thought of leaving Kyofusho to rot in that desolate place filled you with a resolve stronger than fear.

The fortress loomed before you, a monolith of stone and shadow. Its jagged spires pierced the heavens, and the air around it seemed heavy, suffused with despair. You had traveled for days, your body weary but your determination unshaken. Clutching a satchel of provisions and a heart full of hope, you approached the gate.

The guards stationed there eyed you with suspicion. “State thy business, traveler,” one of them barked, his voice sharp and unyielding.

You drew a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I come to visit a prisoner,” you replied, your tone steady despite the fear coiling in your chest. “A man named Kyofusho.”

The guard frowned, exchanging a glance with his companion. “The void-eyed thief? What business hast thou with such a wretch?”

“He is a friend,” you said simply, meeting the guard’s gaze. There was no point in crafting elaborate lies; the truth was your only weapon.

After a moment’s hesitation, the guard waved you through. “Thou art allowed entry, but beware. Monsters oft bring ruin to those who care for them.”

› The prison’s interior was even more oppressive than its exterior. The air was damp and stale, carrying the faint metallic tang of blood and despair. Chains rattled faintly in the distance, a discordant symphony that set your nerves on edge. A warden led you through the labyrinthine corridors, his lantern casting flickering shadows on the walls.

“He is dangerous,” the warden warned, his voice low. “Many have tried to tame beasts like him. None have succeeded.”

“I seek not to tame him,” you replied, your words firm. “Only to remind him that he is not alone.”

The warden said nothing more, but his skeptical glance spoke volumes. Finally, he stopped before a heavy iron door. Producing a key from his belt, he unlocked it with a grating screech and gestured for you to enter.

Kyofusho sat in the far corner of the cell, his frame hunched and gaunt. The dim light revealed the bruises that marred his skin, a testament to the cruelty he had endured. His hands were bound, his movements restricted by chains that clinked softly as he shifted. But it was his eyes that broke your heart the most. Those pitch-black orbs, once filled with a flicker of defiance, now seemed hollow, as though the darkness within them had consumed him entirely.

“Kyofusho,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He lifted his head slowly, and for a moment, he stared at you as though you were a ghost. Then his lips parted, his voice a rasp barely audible above the pounding of your heart. “Why hast thou come?”

You stepped closer, kneeling before him so that your faces were level. “I could not leave thee here. Not like this.”

His laughter was bitter, a sound that cut through you like a blade. “Thou art a fool. Dost thou not see? This is where I belong. The world hath no place for monsters such as I.”

“Thou art no monster,” you said fiercely, reaching out to touch his cheek. He flinched at the contact, but you did not pull away. “Thou hast suffered, aye, but suffering doth not define thee. There is more to thee than pain.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching yours. Then, as though a dam had broken, the words spilled from him in a torrent. He spoke of his torment, of the chains that bound not just his body but his very soul. Of the voices that whispered to him in the dark, telling him he was unworthy of kindness, of love. Tears streamed down his face, and he trembled beneath the weight of his anguish.

You listened, your heart breaking with every word. And when he could speak no more, you pulled him into an embrace, holding him as though your arms alone could shield him from the world’s cruelty. “I see thee, Kyofusho,” you whispered. “And I shall not turn away.”

› That night, as the fortress slumbered, you made your decision. You would not leave without him. The world may see him as a nightmare, but to you, he was something far more precious. He was a soul who had been battered by the tides of fate, a man who had endured so much and yet still clung to the fragile hope that someone might see the humanity within him.

The path ahead would not be easy. You would face dangers, betrayals, and hardships untold. But as you looked into Kyofusho’s eyes, now glimmering with the faintest spark of hope, you knew one thing with absolute certainty:

You would face the darkness together, you both thought, such an idea swirling within the depths of your mind, but Kyo - Kyofusho,

❝I'LL MAKE SURE OF THAT.❞

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑

‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑

╰┈➤ kyofusho (Kyo) x reader

╰⪼ yet again, my deepest apologies if my English doesn't harbor such mastery as some authors do, English isn't my first language! And so - I am absolutely elated to find out that my favorite author has noticed me! @tnsophiaonly I hope that you aren't bothered by this at all!

And @saikowatermelons I am so delighted to find more OCs! It's amazing! And very interesting, I wish to be an active participant of this little fanfiction! Also seeing Adero's appearance has some what gave me motivation to do some art, if you don't mind! That saying - enough adero, kyofusho is actually quite interesting! He has the most potential of being a really tragic yandere! This one isn't really a drabble, but instead a full on fanfiction, I hope I did well, sorry it's not that long.