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kitcattales · 2 years ago

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Something There - Akaza x Fem! Reader Chapter 2: Wrapped in Lantern Light

Author's note: Here's chapter 2 of my Akaza fic, ya'll! c: If you're liking the story so far, please maybe consider supporting me and my work on AO3 and my other cross-post sites! c: Chapter 1 - 4 are all available on those sites! <3 Your support means the world to me! <3 If you've made it this far, thank you for keeping up with the story up to this point! As always, God bless and happy reading! <3

Please find information about warnings and the rating for the entire fic in the post featuring Chapter One linked below! I will also be doing my best to tag these posts with appropriate warnings as well!

CHAPTER ONE, CHAPTER THREE

Cross-posts: AO3, FFN, Wattpad, and Quotev (I am most active on AO3!)

Word count: 11,172

Chapter 2: Wrapped in Lantern Light

The forest had fallen into a peaceful silence when Akaza began to trek down paths familiar to him despite their unmarked existence.

His footsteps were quiet as they traversed the foliage around the cluster of cedars though he walked briskly with the unconscious woman in his arms. His bright golden gaze remained fixated ahead of him, trying to focus solely on the environment and the beings in the forest around them, but try as he might, he couldn’t dedicate his full attention on where he was going. There were subtle things about the girl in his arms which continued to cause his attention to stumble upon her repetitively, wordlessly beckoning those otherworldly hues of his onto her being.

The gentle, almost ticklish sensation of her hair brushing against his arm with every move he made when she’d sway just the slightest bit though he tried to maintain as stable a grip on her as possible; the rhythmic warmth of her constant, quiet breath blanketing the skin of his bare chest, causing gooseflesh to come to life along the length of his arms every so often; the occasional tear which slowly dripped and trailed from her cheeks to wet his flesh and soak into his open haori; the odd scent of her, so feminine and delicately mixed with the natural essence of the woods, something so foreign to him, it kept him wondering how long it had been since he had smelled something similar from this close.

In a word, the human woman was completely and utterly distracting.

He was normally much more focused and attentive when it came to his objectives, but this entire scenario with the Slayer in his arms was totally off-script from what he was accustomed to. It left him baffled with himself, almost at a complete loss on what he should be doing. He had some course of action to take for the time being, but whether that was the right move for him to make or not was still incredibly unclear to him.

As he pondered the thought, his walking slowed, and subconsciously, his gaze lowered upon the nameless woman swaying lightly in his arms. He didn’t really need to look where he was going. He had walked through the spaces in between the densely packed cedars so many times, he practically had every single seedling, adolescent, adult and fallen tree perfectly mapped out in his head. Effortlessly, he could sense the weaker beings which inhabited the forest alongside him, but he didn’t really care about their presences. Unlike the humans, he didn’t need to worry about the other demons. It truly had to be a mindless creature freshly born of rage and desolation with nary an idea on how the world around them works for one of them to charge at him like the weakling from earlier.

That in mind, he presumed he could devote a moment or two to observe the woman in his arms.

He found himself staring aimlessly at first, the sound of the breeze encouraging the leaves of the cedars to dance to the sound of the orchestrating crickets filling the space of existence around him.

Even asleep, she looked incredibly…sad. Somber. Distraught. Her brow was furrowed lightly, creasing her delicate skin on her forehead. Her lips, plush and softly reflecting the distant glow of the moon whenever the canopy allowed, were pulled downwards. A few of her tears had left their streaming trails on her skin alongside the corners of those lips of hers before they had dripped and disappeared beneath her chin.

He supposed it was only natural that she looked that way after what happened. He assumed most humans would be fairly distressed or troubled to have a confrontation with a couple of demons in the woods – but then again, she wasn’t just any ordinary human and he already knew he couldn’t have been the cause for her original strife.

Mimicking the expression on her face, Akaza’s brow had furrowed, perplexed once again by the thoughts running through his mind.

What a strange human, He thought to himself. Coming to me on her own like that. She must be out of her mind. If I had been any of the others, she would’ve been a pile of bones by now.

He frowned, stopping a moment to adjust his hold the slightest bit so he could carefully stroke a few strands of hair behind her ear the wind had blown astray. By then, the blood on his hands had dried and brushed off on the two of them, allowing her hair to remain dry this time when his ink-dipped fingers lightly tucked those silky strands back in place.

He stood still where he was, just staring at her, his eyes slowly trailing down her frame to take in the curves and contours of her plump, feminine figure before trailing back up to her face to take in the small detail of her long lashes gently brushing the tops of her wet cheeks. The world around them kept moving, the woods kept breathing life and eliciting excitement into the beings hiding amongst the cedar, but he felt like he was stuck in place despite knowing exactly where he had been going. Everything about what this woman was, what she represented and what he was doing with her was all completely against everything he knew and did throughout his lifetime as a demon. It caused things to stir in him which left him feeling unlike himself.

Uncertain.

Hesitant.

He didn’t like feeling like this. This feeling of instability on the ground he walked on no matter how firmly he planted his feet nor how sturdy he made his stance.

Tearing his gaze away from her figure, he turned to look towards the direction he knew led back to the village he assumed she came from. For an instant, he considered to just take her there. He could leave her at the edge of the village before any of the other humans saw him and disappear. He’d have saved her from death’s grip tonight and would be free of the uncertainty she planted in him.

Long, seemingly endless seconds passed him by as he considered it, his eyes staring into the distant empty foliage as far as his sight allowed him. Ultimately, he turned sharply on his heels, dismissing the idea and simply continuing along the paths he knew as well as the back of his hands.

Forward he walked with purpose and focus once more, the distractions of the woman in his arms pushed to the back of his mind for the time being. He didn’t want to linger on possibilities and open air anymore. He needed a sense of grounding, a sense of stability and concrete direction of the likes of which he thrived from. So, he kept walking, swiftly ducking and passing in between the gossiping cedars smoothly no matter how packed and dense the woods around them became.

Deeper and deeper into the dark he wandered, the two of them consumed in a world he knew she couldn’t survive on her own. Without him, she’d be a sightless, bloodied lamb, wobbling around and bleating in her lost, innocent ignorance until a starving wolf came along to do away with her life so as to stain the blades of grass beneath their feet with red. In that scenario, what did that make him? He could’ve very well been the wolf, and he very well still could be, technically, but he knew better than anyone that would never happen. So, what is he? What role is he supposed to take in this story?

He shook his head, deciding that the answer didn’t matter.

Thankfully, his hastened, quick footsteps made it so he didn’t have to wonder about it for much longer, either.

Before long, he had found the path of forest floor bordered by two twisting rows of thick, ancient cedars. The massive, impressive trees stood side-by-side, on guard, their canopies outstretched to keep all light at bay along the trek to the door of the old cabin at the end of the trail – the abandoned cabin he often called home when he needed sanctuary from the brilliantly scorching sun; something the humans looked at as a symbol of hope and happiness, and likewise, something demons like him looked at as a symbol of a cruel, painful death.

What did it feel like? He wondered absently. The warmth of the sun on my skin without the feeling of it blistering me like a burnt piece of meat…Did I like the sun when I was human too?

The questions made him frown again though he felt more at ease at the sight of the cabin’s inviting wooden structure. The feeling of walking below the cedars’ shadows had always covered him with a sense of safety and refuge; a place he knew he could rest in without worry of the sun’s burning rays hitting his sleeping body. Regardless of what he must have thought about it in his prior lifetime, the sun was now an enemy he would have to battle against for the rest of his eternal, immortal days. As long as she was in the cabin with him, she would be safe from the others on the outside even during the day.

Sliding the cabin door open with his right foot, he stepped into his home, greeted by a calming dark within. The dim light casting hazily from the open door allowed him to see the little furniture he had in the small room was right where he had left it last.

The cabin itself didn’t have a lot to look at on the inside. The structure was relatively small, primarily consisting of one main room and a small closet towards the back. There used to be two windows on opposing walls, but he had boarded them up when he first found the place to ensure it would be shrouded in complete darkness whenever the sun rose. Within the main room there was a simple one-person futon, tucked towards the center of the room away from said windows just as a precaution. Its comforter was thick, the edges bordered in white with an intricate pattern of waves displayed on the middle fabric. It wasn’t exactly his taste, but he wasn’t picky, either. He had stolen that from the nearby village, actually, not so long ago.

Beside the futon, there was a lantern with a recently replenished tall, white candle confined within the detailed metalwork. Naturally, it wasn’t lit. A few feet away from the futon was an irori pit with a cooking pot setup above it and two beige zabuton cushions on either side. In the irori pit itself, there were a couple of cedar logs haphazardly beaten down to size, edges jagged and misshapen. He wasn’t in the habit of cooking at home often, but considering his specific dietary lifestyle, he would sometimes simply hunt animals in the forest and cook the meat he harvested from them in his cabin. Of course, he didn’t have to do this, but he wasn’t really the type to go out of his way to kill off just any human for a meal, either. Consequently, the fact that the cabin had its own irori pit was actually a bit of a plus for him. Eating cooked animal meat whenever it was convenient to fill him was just…well, convenient. When he wasn’t cooking anything, however, he would light the irori anyway to better illuminate the entire cabin.

The walls themselves were barren, the natural grooves and rings of the wooden planks the only decoration offered in the room. Against the wall to his left, there was a basic wooden cabinet with a single door hiding what was stored within. Beside the cabinet, there was also a basic wooden dresser with two sets of three drawers. All in all, it wasn’t a whole lot that he had there, but it was enough for a being like him who never stayed in one place for too long.

The floorboards beneath his bare feet hushed out quiet creaks in greeting as he approached his futon. Kneeling down before the mattress, he carefully lowered the woman in his arms down onto it, one of his hands sliding to the back of her head to guide it tenderly to his pillow while the other straightened and adjusted her legs. Once she was settled in and his hands were free at last, he looked towards the Nichrin sword sheathed by the woman’s hip. He didn’t expect her to use it on him, and even if she did, he knew he could handle it, but he still figured it would be for the best for him to remove it from her person so she didn’t hurt herself if she started tossing around in her sleep. Taking care not to jostle her body too much, he detached her sword from her belt – sheath and all – and placed it on the ground beside him for the time being. After that was taken care of, he turned back to her and moved the comforter gently out from underneath her legs and hips to pull the warm blanket atop of her weakened frame. He took a moment to tuck her in loosely, making sure she was warm and well-covered by the comforter.

Only when she was completely settled is when he got back up on his feet and went to close the cabin door, the dark within the room completely consuming the two of them for a moment’s breath. Still, even in the pitch black of these four walls, he knew exactly where he was going and where he shouldn’t step. Instinctively, he walked towards the dresser against the left wall and pulled open one of the top drawers. He rummaged inside for a few moments, his tainted fingers feeling around various miscellaneous objects he had stored away until he eventually came across one of his matchboxes. He fumbled with the box, his thumbs pushing the lid open so he could pluck a single match out of the bunch. Closing the box and holding it firmly in his hand, he swiped the match

once,

twice,

three times

until fire sparked on its head.

He hummed, pleased, and tossed the matchbox back into the drawer before pushing it closed. He then returned to the woman on his futon and knelt down beside her to face the lantern at her side. He opened up the small cage’s door, a squeak of rusted metal groaning with the motion as it revealed the candle hidden within its framework. Pinching the match between his thumb and forefinger, he lit the candle, its graceful flame dancing to life bathing the cabin in a warm, orange glow. Once it was lit, he blew the fire out on his match and tossed it carelessly into the irori’s sands to swallow up the faded giver of light.

For a moment, he considered lighting the irori, his eyes lingering on the pit and the cedar logs he had yet to use within it, but he shut the lantern’s door closed and decided against it for the time being. Instead, he took the woman’s Nichirin sword and went to rest it against the wall by the closet door before returning to kneel by her bedside once more. Bathed in the lantern’s glow, as he gazed upon her sleeping figure, he began to drink in her details in a different light almost without even noticing. He didn’t really know where to look at first, so many details long since forgotten suddenly pushed onto his lap out of the blue tonight having made everything somewhat confusing to the demon, but in time, his gaze began to focus on the small details again just as he had done out in the woods.

He took in the sight of her chest rising and falling consistently with her breathing first, the subtle motion causing for the comforter atop of her to ruffle quietly along with her shallow breaths. It was lulling to watch, a constant rhythm which made him feel somewhat…peaceful. Strange that he got a feeling like that just by watching over her like this. His eyes then traveled back up to her face, taking in the sight of her feminine softness bathed in orange light and brushed crimson where his hands had touched her earlier. Despite the macabre undertone, she actually looked quite beautiful with her thick locks of hair splayed out across the pillow around her. Womanly and graceful even in the state she was in.

He hummed at the thought as he took in, once again, the troubled and pained expression the woman harbored on her delicate features he caught himself admiring. Her frantic crying and pleas to be killed set aside, there had been something else going on with her that caused that look on her face to surface. She had been limping when she approached him, having practically dragged herself all the way to him from wherever she had come from. He wouldn’t be surprised if her body was littered with all kinds of injuries beneath that uniform of hers, considering her line of work and the humanity she couldn’t help.

“If you were a demon, that wouldn’t matter. You would have gotten over it by the time you blinked twice.” He commented lowly, hushed under his breath, an innate response which rolled off of his tongue instinctively. “…But you’re not. You’re human…You’re weak.” He remarked, gently reaching down to comb his fingers through a few locks of her hair. “You’re fragile…You can’t take care of yourself on your own like that, can you…?” He repeated the motion a few times, starting near her head without actually touching her and combing his fingers leisurely along until they carefully pulled themselves out of her luscious waves by the tips. He watched curiously as the strands gracefully fell from his fingers onto the futon and pillow, unused to the silky sensation and the odd sense of peace these simple, insignificant actions continued to bring him.

On the sixth time his fingers found themselves swimming in her (hair color) waves, his hand had paused midway. He stalled there to allow his thumb to rub those silky strands between the pads of his fingers, the smooth, honeyed sensation of it abruptly causing the inkling of a memory to shyly lift its head within his mind. He blinked a few times, his fingers stopping and his brow furrowing, the shy memory he didn’t know he had becoming bolder and extroverted, suddenly hitting him with a quick flash of images and words that forced him to stir from where he sat with a start. He straightened up, his brow creasing further, taken aback but actively motivated to move with the sudden information he had at his fingertips. Finally allowing her hair to fall from his fingers one last time, he stood to his feet and got ahead of himself, already rushing towards the door, but he stopped himself halfway with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Water.”

He turned back around and moved towards the closet, sliding the door open to reveal a pail set on the floor below the shelves he used to bring water to cook with and to refill the small outhouse outside. He grabbed its handle with his bloodstained fingers, and the sight of their bloodied state casually reminded him he needed to wash himself up after his encounter with the lesser demon. After he made a mental note of that, he closed the closet door and rushed out of the cabin, making sure he had slid the front door closed behind him.

He was sure she’d be fine on her own for a little while. After what happened earlier, he doubted any of the others would really dare themselves to come near her now that he’s taken her in, even when he wasn’t around – at least not tonight.

I’ll remind them why it’s an awful idea to try if they forget quicker than they should. At the very least, it would make for an entertaining couple of minutes.

~¤ ¤ ¤~

The evening air was warm, the cool breeze carrying the sounds of people conversing and traveling, caught up in their own bubbles and lives. The lights above were warm and golden, easy on the eyes, but bright enough to make the scenery come to life for those who walked along the station platform. Up ahead, the train tracks were empty, a wide and vast forest left in full display on the other side during its temporary vacancy.

_______ felt disoriented by the familiar sights and sounds of the Mugen Train Station, aware that she had visited a few times in the past, but she couldn’t remember visiting it recently, let alone coming tonight to sit on that metal bench she was on right now. She looked around her, eyes squinted, lips parted slightly as confused, labored puffs of air left her. The sight of the crowds of bustling people and the bright ticket counters illuminating the dark of night came off blurry to her, so she lifted her hands to rub her eyes in an attempt to bring the world back to clarity. She tried to orientate herself, remind herself on where she was and what she was doing, but her mind kept drawing a blank no matter how clear her vision became nor how focused she tried to make herself be. The only thing she was able to really acknowledge was that this was, in fact, the Mugen Train Station. She didn’t need to read the signs to know that. Still, that didn’t tell her anything about why she was there and how she got there to begin with.

“You’re awake, young _______!”

That voice…

That voice.

It shook her to her very core to hear it ring so vividly in her ear. It sucker-punched her in the gut to hear it clear, bright and warm like the comforting lights above her. It forced the air out of her lungs to hear the laugh which followed soon afterwards, full of vigor and life. Slowly, she turned in her seat, coming to face the side of the station she had neglected since her eyes opened in the midst of the hustle and bustle of common life. Upwards her gaze rose until it landed on those lively, unique golden hues and that brilliant, heartwarming smile she had burned in her memory to the very last detail. Right down to the dimpled creases and the fiery rings of color within his irises.

“R…R-Rengoku…? Is that…? B-but…but how can…?”

He simply widened his smile, chuckling further as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t trouble yourself too much with how right now! We have other things to discuss, don’t we, young _______? More important things.”

_______ shook her head, her hands trembling on her lap before they grabbed tightly at the hem of her skirt. Her nails tugged roughly at the fabric, so strong she swore it would tear, but that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that Rengoku was there.

He was alive.

“Tell me, why are you here?”

Still completely floored by the Hashira’s appearance, _______ slowly shook her head in response. There was so much she wanted to say, so many things she wished she had said, but none of it came to her tongue now that he was sitting in front of her like she thought he never would be again. Everything jumbled up in her mind in a large, convoluted knot, forcing her to hyper-focus on his presence as a whole instead.

“I…don’t know why I’m here…I don’t even know how I got here…”

“Yes, you do know why you’re here. I’m sure you do. Dig in a little deeper, _______, I know you can do it!”

Her lower lip began to quiver at his familiar encouragement, her eyes beginning to mist up.

“But I r-really don’t, Rengoku, I-I don’t know why I’m here…I can’t give you the answer you want…”

“Yes, you can! Search within yourself and you’ll find the answer you need!”

She shook her head again as it lowered, pulling her gaze away from his brilliant expression completely to instead stare at his flame emblazoned haori draped beneath him on the bench.

“You always had so much faith in me,” She whispered meekly. “Why…wh-why did you ever have that much faith in someone like me?”

Though she no longer looked at him, his smile softened and his head tilted gently to the side.

“I had many reasons to have faith in you, but there’s more to this.” He remarked softly. Vaguely. “Dig a little deeper.”

She shook her head one more time, tears now beginning to roll down her cheeks, clinging to the edges of her jaw before falling in fat droplets onto the fabric of her skirt and the metal of the bench.

“B-but, Rengoku, I don’t care why or how I got here, I-I’m just…I-I’m so happy you’re here…I d-don’t even know what to do with myself, my head feels so empty but so loud at the same time…There’s so much I want to s-say to you, but I’m…” She couldn’t completely end her sentence, a heartbreaking sob wrenching itself free from her gut forcing her to cut herself off. She bent forward, ducking her head down lower into her chest as she brought her pained, heavily squinted gaze down to her laps where it heavily blurred with her tears. All the while, the bustling, busy crowds around them continued on their ways, carrying on their own lives and business, completely ignoring the two of them in their shared bubble.

Roughly, she bit into her lower lip, surprised she didn’t taste blood from how brutely she had dug her teeth into the tender flesh, but she didn’t question it.

She just needed to try to compose herself.

She felt like it was crucial.

She had no idea how much time she had.

“Why are you here, _______?” Rengoku asked again, the feeling of his large, gentle hand reaching down to press and rub against her back forcing another devastating sob to rip through her throat no matter how hard she tried to swallow it down.

“Y-your hand,” She sobbed. “My God, Rengoku, your hand i-is so warm…Without saying anything o-or…or d-doing anything in particular, you’ve always made me believe l-like things will be okay at the end of the day…J-just like that…J-just because you’re so reliable a-and dependable…S-so strong…”

“_______...”

“W-why would you ever waste s-something so compassionate and k-kind on someone like me…? W-why, out of e-everyone you could sit with, did you come to m-me? I don’t deserve this – I-I don’t deserve you…!”

“Why are you here?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” She suddenly cried out loud, as loud as her lungs allowed her to proclaim. Her back straightened, bringing her to sit up and face the Hashira with an expression completely crumpled in heartache and every single sense the sentiment held.

“I don’t kn-know why I’m here, R-Rengoku…! I never did!”

Rengoku’s expression softened further, warm and full of compassion and care, not at all shaken nor deterred by her outburst.

“You wandered into that forest on your own,” He remarked. “You went in when you were most vulnerable. You dragged your feet across roughened soil and through shadows in the dead of night knowing fully well what you were getting into – but why? Why did you do that, young _______?”

She couldn’t answer him. Her trembling lips quivered heavily and broken, painful whimpers erupted pathetically from her throat as the tears distorted her vision of Rengoku further, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer that question.

Not to him.

She would sooner confess it to the entire world before she would ever confess it to him.

“I know it hurts,” He hushed softly when she didn’t reply, the hand he had rubbed her back with coming to slide upon her cheek where he brushed her tears away. His touch was gentle and thoughtful, the warmth of his skin reminding her again of the life beating in his heart in this moment in time. When he wiped all of her tears away, he brought his hand up to pet the top of her head in comforting strokes. “I know it’s hard to move on, but you can do it, ________. I’ve always known you could. I never had a doubt.”

Still, she could say nothing. All she could do was continue to fall apart right there in front of him, new tears taking the place of the ones he so tenderly wiped away for her as she reveled in the feel of his petting – something she almost forgot the feeling of. The way his large hand would lay flat against her head and gently stroke backwards towards the back of her head before lifting to the top to start over again. The way his fingers would sometimes get caught in her locks and the memory of how they would laugh when he pulled some of her hair out of place when he was done. It all only served to break the small pieces of her heart which remained into smaller, miniscule, jagged shards, devastated that she had really forgotten how this used to feel.

In the midst of his petting and encouraging words, she could hear the distant sound of a train’s whistle blowing. The sound caused for her heart to leap to her throat, the widening of her eyes clearly showing the panic she felt bubbling because of what it meant – because of the fate she knew it carried within its carts.

“Whenever you need me, I’ll be here,” Rengoku promised her, his eyes closing into gentle crescents as his smile splayed softly across his lips from ear-to-ear in his own unique display. “When you figure out why, I’ll be here too. I know it’s hard right now and the answers aren’t as clear as you’d like them to be, but you’ll get to them in time. Be patient not just with this, but with yourself. Be patient and be kind.” Giving her one last stroke of the head, he allowed his hand to slide to her cheek where it lingered for a few seconds before he stood to his feet as the Mugen Train came to rest at its station.

Instantly, _______ began to shake her head vigorously, her body moving on its own to stand her up along with him.

“R-Rengoku, please, don’t go! D-don’t get on the train!” She gripped at his arm desperately, trying to pull him back to her, trying to pull him away from the open maw of the Mugen Train and the destination she knew it would lead him to. “Stay! S-stay with me! J-just…j-just a little bit longer! You don’t h-have to go! We can think of something else! W-we can get backup from the Corps and m-make a proper plan! PLEASE, just stay with me…! Don’t get on that train!”

He let out a soft sigh lightly laced with a somber nostalgia, his eyes shifting to look at the Mugen Train with the smile still on his face before turning to look back at _______ once more.

“You and I both know I can’t do that,” He commented softly. “But that’s okay. I’ll be okay, and more importantly, you’ll be okay too.”

With that, he gently removed her hands from his arm, squeezing them strongly and reassuringly in his own for a few seconds longer. When he released them, he turned towards the Mugen Train and boarded it with the other passengers, flashing her one last smile before he disappeared in his cart. Suddenly, the entire train station was empty of the crowds and the atmosphere was silenced from the chitter chatter of the pedestrians. All the doors of the train closed and locked, the beast of iron and coal roaring to life once more with a loud blow of its whistle and a shrill screech of its wheels beginning to turn on its rustic tracks.

_______ shook her head desperately once more, watching as the train began to leave the station at a slow, leisure pace which gradually picked up speed the more its wheels turned.

“N-no, no, no, no, no…! Rengoku! RENGOKU!”

Despite the futility of the situation, she raced after the Mugen Train, trying with all her might to run alongside the cart he had boarded. She could see the top of his fierce mane of blonde locks with their bright red tips from one of the windows, the small sight of him beckoning her to kick her feet as fast and as hard as she was able against the platform floor – but there was only so much platform she was able to run on and only so much time she had before the train was traveling at a pace she could never dream to compete with.

Skidding to a clumsy stop at the very edge of the station platform, _______ watched the Mugen Train rush down its tracks, carrying Rengoku away with it to a fate she knew she couldn’t change no matter how strongly she wished she could.

From there, all _______ could do was watch from the lonely, empty platform as the train quickly grew smaller and smaller in the distance until it was completely out of sight. By then, she was sobbing openly into the blowing wind, orchestrating her deep, wrenching anguish to the vast woods – the only audience she had left.

~¤ ¤ ¤~

Orange.

Flickering, swaying orange delicately tinged with a golden inner glow casting shadows while performing on what seemed like a wooden stage.

That was what the world around her was gradually coming to be as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Her eyelids felt heavy, almost too heavy to lift, the weak effort she put into opening them causing for her lashes to tickle the skin of her cheeks. The world still didn’t make much sense to her in those senseless moments of groggy forgetfulness. She couldn’t tell where she was, couldn’t remember what had happened last in that very moment, but she did acknowledge the colors soothingly dancing on the foreign ceiling above her.

The colors were vibrant and strong, lighting up the space of the room she was in perfectly in its comforting glow though she made no move quite yet to look around. She could just tell and feel that it did from the intensity of the colors acting out their play on the ceiling. She felt safe watching them, wondering how it was they got there but having no real determination nor interest in finding out.

She didn’t want to question it.

She knew what happened was just a dream, but she wanted to pretend for a while longer.

She wanted to feel safe and comforted in a way she had long since forgotten for just a little bit longer.

It was a feeling the colors on the ceiling tried to mimic with their performance, and they did quite well, if she were to critique. The play they put on for her made the feeling linger for a while, though it was naturally diluted and nothing like the real thing. It was as though she were coming down from a numbing high, plummeted back into a reality she didn’t want to accept, but allowed a few more minutes in blissful ignorance and disassociation of the truth she hated to accept.

Her vision slowly began to mist and cloud as she watched the colors dance and flicker in the sporadic climax of their stories, but her expression remained the same. She didn’t grimace nor crumple nor pucker. The tears simply came to be in her eyes and slowly began to slide down the sides of her temples, because that’s what they were supposed to do. They were supposed to be there, welling and building up in her sore, tired eyes and marking her skin with their paths repeatedly until she was covered in well-worn tracks. For this instant in time, she was too exhausted to react, too battered to care and too far deep to struggle.

Thus, she simply allowed it to be.

Yet, despite all of that, something beyond the colors was beginning to seep into her current reality. She was gradually becoming aware of the sound of what she believed was bubbling water, consistent and lively somewhere to her left. Along with the bubbling was the occasional clang, pank, clang, pank of metal lightly bumping into metal. Lost in her vague awareness, she shifted her focus from the dancing colors on the ceiling to the shadows which surrounded them. Most of the shadows bore no defined shapes, constantly changing and altering with the movement of the bright glow. She assumed those shadows were stationary objects in the space she was laying in, though she still showed no interest in moving to see what they were.

Amongst the majority, however, was a more persistent shape. Naturally, it would distort and bounce gracefully on the wooden ceiling at the dancing glow’s demand, but through it all, the shadow itself owned its own fluidity. She could make out what appeared to be an arm steadily turning over and over in circles. There was something held in its hand, though she couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Occasionally, the arm would stop its rotating motions to pull on whatever it held – or was it lifting it? Yes, it was lifting it. A ladle of some sort. Shortly after she labeled the mystery object, a larger shadow came into view; a head and upper body bending forward seemingly peering into the ladle. The person who inspected whatever was on the ladle didn’t stay in view for long, already dipping the ladle back into what must be a pot of some sort to continue their stirring. It was then that she picked up on an earthy aroma warmly enveloping the air, reminding her of flourishing fields and endless plains of grass sprouting from earth recently bathed in cooling rainwater.

Where exactly was she supposed to be? The last place she remembered being in was the cedar woods. She had been close to death then, but had she actually died? Was that what the vision of Rengoku related to? Was that why she was in the Mugen Train Station with him?

No, that didn’t make sense. If the afterlife was really cruel enough to torture her with those kinds of visions, then it would be the same kind of hell she lived in day-to-day. Besides, even if that was the afterlife, why wasn’t she at the station now? This wooden ceiling didn’t belong to the modernized train station, that much she was aware of. It was much too rustic for a bustling, up-and-coming city like the one that station resided in.

That begs the question: if she hadn’t died and she wasn’t laying in the space between life and death, then where exactly was she?

She knew she should turn her head. She kept asking and wondering where she was while watching the shadows and lights on the ceiling, but she was fully aware she could begin to gather an answer if she simply looked around.

Pull her gaze away from the ceiling.

Lead her eyes astray from the calming, warm glow.

It’s such a simple action. If she just turned her head even the slightest bit, she would already have more detail and information to work with to piece together what had happened to her, but that one simple, minuet action felt harder for her to accomplish than the training she endured to become a Demon Slayer and every mission she ventured on up to this day. Turning her head away meant turning away from the warmth of the orange and bright golden glow which kept her company during their comforting play. Pulling her gaze away from the lights and shadows on the ceiling meant turning away from so much more than just absent, blissful ignorance.

It meant turning away from the vision.

It meant turning away from the comforting, temporary fake feeling of okay.

It meant turning away and simply allowing the door to close and lock again.

‘You’ll be okay.’

She grimaced lightly as his voice echoed in her mind. She could practically hear him laughing, could practically see him smiling down at her with reassurance from within the glow. He said that with so much confidence and faith in his voice for her, but how could he be so sure? How could he believe in her that much when she held no faith in her own self? Though he had been certain of what he said, she was convinced she would never truly be okay again, so she wanted to keep pretending. She wanted to keep existing in the pathetic copycat of the safety and encouragement he made her feel when he was still there. When he spoke to her. When he expressed so much belief in her when it was difficult to see an ounce of worth on her own.

When he was still alive.

She lingered a few moments longer, envisioning his smile and repeating everything he told her in the station, the clang, pank, clang, pank of the shadows having long since turned to soothing background noise. If it had been up to her, she wouldn’t move ever again, but deep down, she knew she had to – even if it was only to live up to Rengoku’s beliefs in her.

Though it was difficult, though it shattered her heart to watch his image dissipate and fade amongst the dancing lights, _______ began to turn her head in defiance against everything in her that told her to sit there and rot. Slowly, stiffly, she turned to the left, taking in the mostly barren sight of the room she was laying in. In the process of it is when she realized she was tucked into a futon, its thick comforter hugging her close to the thin mattress beneath her. Not only that, but her Nichirin sword had been taken away from her, although it was still close by, leaning against the wooden wall facing her. Being disarmed didn’t unnerve her. It simply was.

Beside the futon itself was a lantern, its metal frame housing a burning candle. For a few seconds, her gaze lingered on the intricate cage of the lantern, taking in its crisscross detail highlighted by the flame burning within. When she caught herself becoming too comfortable with the soothing glow once again, she forced herself to shift her gaze beyond the lantern.

Close by, there was an irori lit, the planks of wood in the pit of sand roaring with brilliant, lively flames which licked at the underbelly of a dark pot strung above them. The most jarring part of the scene, however, was the person who had been casting the shadows on the ceiling she was watching mere moments ago.

Of all things she expected to see, Akaza tending to something in an irori’s pot while she laid in a futon a few feet away from him was not one of them. He was stirring something he had cooking over the open flames, his dual-colored eyes focused on the broth. The glow of the flames danced and reflected off of his skin much as they had done on the ceiling, highlighting his features to her from the angle she observed him in.

He has long eyelashes…

It was an odd thought, but it was one of the first things she noticed, the very first being how much his eyes stood out even in the dimness of the room they were in and the fierce glow of the irori’s fire. The blue of his sclera was shattered with dark veins, the brilliant color reminding her of a cloudless, sunny day, his striking golden irises taking the role of the sun for themselves.

What does that make his eyelashes then? Pink and full…Maybe an oncoming sunset?

Again, a strange thing to think about. She was just soothingly fascinated by his natural colors and how much they actually stood out. His nature as a demon and the terrible things he had done set aside, Akaza was quite beautiful in his own regard, but maybe that was her artistic side talking. She used to be the type who appreciated that sort of thing, but every now and again, that side of her personality peeked up from the murky depths they now hid beneath to help her cope with the world around her.

He was, after all, the reason why Rengoku was gone.

“You’re awake.”

The comment startled her some, causing her to shift slightly on the futon as she turned her focus to the demon as a whole. Had he maybe heard her head moving? Or maybe he saw her eyes open from the corner of his? Who knows? He seemed the observant type, something that was taken to an extraordinary level when paired with a demon of his caliber.

“Good to see. I was starting to wonder whether you’d be out cold ‘til morning.”

He didn’t look at her as he spoke. His eyes remained on the pot and what he was stirring, his free hand resting in a fist upon his lap. The expression on his face was one of neutral concentration, not aggressive nor particularly friendly. He just…was. Paying attention not to burn whatever it was he was brewing.

“Wh…Where…” She began to speak, her throat feeling raw, her voice sounding not like her own to her. She frowned in distaste, weakly clearing her throat and swallowing the dry lump before continuing. “Where am I…?” Her voice came out in a murmured whisper, almost lost to the crackling of the lively flames of the irori, but not to Akaza.

“In an old cabin, I guess is the best way to describe the place.” He hummed thoughtfully, his expression softening with a light purse of his lips as he pondered his choice of words. “I found it a long time ago. Abandoned. So, it’s my cabin now.” He corrected himself, nodding his head, satisfied with the clarification.

“Your cabin…” She echoed, her eyes wandering away from him to take a better look at the cabin. There didn’t seem to be any signs of struggle anywhere she looked. No claw marks on the walls, no broken bits of furniture scattered on the ground, no old bloodstains forever soaked up by the wooden floor. The only thing that was slightly out of place was the fact that the windows were boarded shut, but seeing as he had come to claim the place as his own, it made sense that they would be that way. “Why did you bring me here…?”

“You weren’t making a whole lot of sense back in the woods, but if I had left you where you were in the state you were in, you’d be dead by now. I knew you’d be safe here until you woke up, so I just brought you with me.” He replied matter-of-factly as he pulled the ladle he was stirring with out of the pot to prop it on one of the handles. Turning to the other side of him, she watched him pick up a cup he had waiting on the floor before taking the ladle once again and dipping it into the pot. He poured a little over two ladles full of the broth he had cooking, steam wafting above the cup he handled with care. Once it was full, he propped the ladle back on the pot’s handle and stood to his feet. Her gaze followed him as he walked over to her, their eyes meeting while he closed the short distance between them until he was kneeling down by her bedside.

“Sit up.”

She knew what he said was more of an order than it was a request, but the way he said it and the gentle way he looked at her confused her by suggesting it came from a good place. It was bizarre, to say the least, the way this demon spoke to her with such…decency despite the unwavering firmness of his voice. Her brow furrowed slightly at the detail, her lips parting the slightest bit more so in bemusement than with intention of speaking.

“Ah,” He seemed to realize something when she didn’t react after a few seconds. “That’s right. Human. You’re human…” He muttered to himself, carefully setting the steaming cup on the floor beside him before turning back to her, his hands coming to rest on his laps again.

“Do you need help?”

Do I need help…?

What was going on? This is the demon that killed Rengoku? How? He was treating her with respect and even offering to help her sit up if she couldn’t do so herself. She had heard of the other demon on the Mugen Train, Enmu, who had lured people in with false kindness of sweet dreams before he plunged them into horrific nightmares, but Akaza didn’t have that kind of profile. From what she was told, he was an abrupt and upfront fighter; someone who didn’t beat around the bush and got straight to the point. He wasn’t a manipulative demon. He was a close-range demon who fought for the sport of it, starving for the thrill of a challenge like the one Rengoku had to offer that night.

This demon isn’t at all what she expected to be confronted by when she set out to the woods tonight.

Even in her baffled silence, he patiently waited for some kind of response from her, no annoyance or hasty agitation in the way he looked at her. His hands remained on his laps, not moving an inch to touch her, but his striking stare did remain on her face, studying her the same way she studied him. That is, until his gaze had shifted towards the cup at his side, his head nodding in its direction as well before he refocused on her.

“It’s an herbal tea. I went to fetch some water and to find the herbs and roots I needed to make it for you while you were asleep. You’re weakened from your work with the lessers. I noticed. This should help.” He informed her, offering a small smile to appear friendlier. He understood her apprehension. If their roles were switched, he’d be apprehensive too. From a human’s perspective, what was a demon supposed to be serving them from a pot of a boiling brew they couldn’t even see because of their incapacitated state? It really could be anything, so it’s not like he expected her to fully believe him the moment he brought it over and explained it to her.

Hell, even he couldn’t believe he had this herbal remedy stored away somewhere in his faintest memories.

He supposed it made some sense. He was human once, but that was centuries ago. Yet, he somehow remembered the recipe and what he had to look for as if he had made the tea every day since he was turned.

Something about her triggered the memory, that was all he was sure about.

“…How do I know you’re not lying…?”

He let out an amused breath, his head tilting again in his good humor.

“I guess you don’t. You just have to take my word for it.”

She shook her head the slightest bit at him, a distant look befalling her as her lips angled into an exhausted frown.

“Why didn’t you kill and eat me…?” She asked, the question leaving her so naturally, it unsettled her; unsettled her how much she wanted to know; unsettled her how much she had wished he had been what she had expected. Something in her told her he had ulterior motives. That he was keeping her alive to make the thrill of the kill more exciting in some way or another. Maybe he thought if he gave her the idea of being spared, she would take back her death wish and be eager to escape to the village. Then, he could enjoy the chase, too, before inevitably sinking his fanged maw into the tender flesh of her neck when he tackled her onto the ground.

Akaza, however, didn’t answer her question. He simply stared at her, the small smile he had given her straightening the slightest bit but retaining its foreign friendliness despite it. Genuine.

“Would you like me to help you sit up so you can drink your tea?” He repeated his question instead, making no move to place his hands on her if she didn’t answer him. She considered denying him, but she supposed she didn’t have much to lose either way she went about this. So, she finally gave him a small nod of her head.

“Please…”

His smile widened up a bit once more when she accepted his help, giving her a curt nod of his own in return. Reaching over, he folded the futon’s comforter halfway so the upper half was resting on her legs. Once he did, he turned to her as she began to prop herself up carefully on her elbows. She would wince with each move she made, he noticed. As gently as he could, he slid one of his hands down her back until he had it pressed against the middle of it, slowly pushing her upward while his other hand took a hold of hers to help give her more support.

His hand felt warm to her. Probably warmer than it should be, since he had been holding the steaming cup of tea. Looking upon his larger, masculine hand, taking in the feeling of his calloused palm wrapped around her own, she took notice that the blood from the other demon he fought earlier was gone from his skin. Her eyes traveled up his arm, across his chest and down his other arm. Nothing. The blood was gone, cleaned away probably while she was asleep. For a second, she wondered if the fight had actually happened, but the speckling of blood around what she could see of the ends of his white pants told her otherwise. Images came to mind of the short-lived confrontation he held with the lesser demon as she stared at the bloodstains on his clothing. It was a stark reminder of how powerful this man actually was.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” She repeated her question, her gaze slowly lifting to meet with his once more when he helped her sit up properly. “If you wanted to, you could have done away with me just as easily as you did that other demon…Why didn’t you…?”

His small smile had fallen entirely this time, morphed to a bemused look of his own.

“Why did you want me to kill you?”

The retort caught her off guard. She hadn’t been expecting any kind of questioning on his part of this. He’s a demon, after all. Demons kill and eat humans. That’s just what they do. That’s what they’ve always done. Why would he care for her reasoning? Why did he want to know? She didn’t know, but being put on the spot like that so curtly made her squirm in discomfort, her gaze dropping to her hand he still had gripped in his own.

She had spilled a lot of what she thought about her predicament when she approached him, she knew, but…telling him exactly why was something she didn’t want to do. She didn’t want to tell anyone why. Nobody knew. Nobody had the slightest idea that she had these thoughts running across her mind, and the one person who came closest to uncovering her inner turmoil was dead now. It was an accumulation of a lot of things which caused this spiral in her person, and the thought of saying all of those things aloud left her feeling unbearably shameful and vulnerable in a way she absolutely abhorred.

Akaza didn’t press. He simply pulled his hand away from her back and picked up the cup of herbal tea, bringing it down to their joined hands. There, he released hers and placed the cup in her grip, wrapping both of his hands around her own this time to make sure she held onto it properly. When she didn’t lift her head nor squeeze the cup on her own, he leaned down and peered up at her, offering a gentle, patient smile.

“You should drink it while it’s warm. It’ll be good for you.”

At first, as soon as his face came into her line of sight, she turned her eyes away from his, looking off to the wall on the right of them. When she felt him lightly squeeze her hand in both of his, however, she hesitantly looked back again. His eyes were softly narrowed, masking some of the kanji in both of his irises, and through them, he still gave off that friendly vibe he’s been carrying from the start.

His hands completely covered both of hers, enveloping them in a warmth she didn’t expect him to radiate. She had assumed it was from the cup of tea, but both of them felt the same way and it wasn’t changing after he put the cup down. She had always expected the touch of a demon to feel…cold. Chilling. Yet, his wasn’t. It was the kind of soft warmth you’d seek out during a cold winter’s day. The type of warmth you’d want wrapped around you when you feel scared and need comfort. The type of warmth you’d hide in during a stormy night to help lull you to sleep alongside the melodies of pattering rain. How could something so…wholesome radiate from someone like him? She didn’t know how she was supposed to take this nor how she was supposed to react. Should she really believe in that friendly gaze and patient smile? Should she buy into the kind act he was showing her?

Without a doubt, she would be a fool if she did.

She gave him a small nod of her head and squeezed the ceramic cup in her hand. He pulled his hands away from her own when she did, bringing them back down to his laps as he straightened up his posture again. She followed his lead and straightened up a bit as well, her gaze dropping again to peer into the cup she brought close to her chest in both of her hands. There were herbs floating in the amber-tinted brew, partly living up to the demon’s explanation. Bringing it closer to her face, she took a curious whiff of the drink, noting that the earthy aroma she picked up on earlier had come from the tea. Letting out a shaky breath, she dropped her shoulders and caved, finally deciding to bring the edge of the cup to her lips to take a gulp of the warm brew.

After the first two gulps, she pulled the cup away from her and grimaced heavily, making a face of clear distaste. It certainly tasted like a medicinal tea, that’s for sure. Actually, it tasted almost identical to the remedies the medics at the Butterfly Estate often had her take whenever she was brought in with injuries. Granted, she may be wrong about that. All those herbal remedies tasted the same to her: like dirt. She never liked drinking them, and this tea Akaza had given her tasted just like the others. She didn’t want to take another sip, but when she peeked over in his direction, he was staring at her pointedly, lifting an eyebrow at her in question. She didn’t need to be told what that look meant. The medics gave her similar looks whenever she reacted this way…It was just jarring to receive that look from a demon of the twelve Kizuki.

Deciding not to try her luck as she often did with the Butterfly medics, she tentatively brought the cup back to herself, stalling in awkward pauses until she eventually pressed it to her lips once again. She wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, so she just went for it. She shut her eyes tight and drank the warm tea in large gulps, slightly tilting her head back to take in all the liquid while doing her best to avoid the leaves in her way. When there was barely anything left, she pulled the cup away from herself again and dry-heaved to the right, a short series of coughs following soon afterwards.

Akaza chuckled a bit at that, taking the cup away from her and setting it to the side once more before leaning over to pat at her back with minimal strength in the gesture. Only just enough to help her get over her coughing fit.

“I take it you’re not a tea type?” He questioned, smirking lightly in amusement.

“Medicinal tea tastes like mud…If that is what that was…”

She replied without missing a beat this time once she had calmed down, shakily bringing her hands up to wipe at her eyes and face. When she pulled them away, she looked at her palms and narrowed her eyes in confusion for a moment. There were…red streaks covered all over them. When she realized it was blood – dried blood she must have dabbed onto her hands when she wiped the tears off of her skin – her hands began to tremble before balling up into tight fists and quickly falling to her sides out of her sight. All of a sudden, she became all too aware of the scent of blood on her person – the demon’s blood Akaza had wiped on her back in the forest before everything went dark.

“Oh, that’s right,” He commented, beginning to stand to his feet with her cup in his hand. “You probably want to wash off after what happened earlier, right? Let’s go do that now.” She looked up at him when he said that, watching his back as he walked to the other side of the cabin to place the cup on the dresser before he opened up one of the top drawers. He pulled out an old towel from within, gray in color. Then, he wandered over to the closet and pulled out a small wooden washing basin which he tucked the towel into.

When he heard no kind of reaction or response from her, he turned around and lightly waved the basin in her direction.

“You do want to wash away the blood, don’t you?”

Again, he was being so polite and considerate. It threw her off, and perhaps in the right state of mind, she would’ve rejected his kindness and labeled it a manipulative fraud. Right now, however, she simply saw it as an odd direction life was taking her in, completely skewed from the one she had chosen to walk upon earlier this evening. Maybe it was also because she was desperate to get rid of the scent of blood on her. Normally, she was completely accustomed to it, but having it on her person like this, mixed with her tears, with what she had dreamed of still in her head? It was suffocating.

“…Yes, please…”

“So polite~” He mused lightheartedly, walking over to her bedside once more, but this time, he simply bent down by the knees, his legs spread on either side of him with ease, his free hand resting upon his left thigh. Offering her a more playful grin this time, he handed her the basin with the towel, and once she accepted them, he propped both of his hands on his knees as he looked her in the eyes once again. “Right, then. I figure you can’t walk much right now, can ya? ‘Course not. You’re pretty beat up. So, do you want me to help again?”

“I…I-I suppose I need your help, yes…” She really couldn’t deny it. She had been a wreck when she wandered into these woods, and right now? There was no way she could do much of anything without it hurting her like hell. Acting like she could walk without support through the woods on her own again would be a pathetically obvious display.

“Right. Okay, hold tight.” When she had been expecting him to help her to her feet so she could walk with her arm over his shoulders, he had surprised her by instead pushing the comforters of the futon completely off of her before scooping her up in his arms, one hooked beneath her knees and the other coming to wrap around the back of her waist. Easily, he propped her body up against his chest, secure in his grip. Tight and cozy.

_______, in response, stiffened up something fierce, ignoring the ache it forced to spread throughout her body. Her arms hugged the basin he had given her tightly against her chest, her nails digging into the wood while she stared up at him wide eyed.

“Comfortable enough? Is it okay for my hands to be where they are?”

His…hands?

What kind of a question was that? He cared about something like that?

“I-I…Y-yes, this is fine…”

“Okay, good. Tell me if that changes on the way.”

She really couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This man – this demon – had gone from crushing and dismembering one of his own kind brutally without an ounce of remorse, to making her medicinal tea and caring about the way he touched or held her. It totally, completely contradicted everything she thought she knew and left her floating in a strange feeling of vacillation and gray areas.

This wasn’t how the night was supposed to play out.

Yet, there she was, being carried out of this demon’s cabin, snug in his arms.

On the way out into the cedar woods, she even became acutely aware of his large hand pressed firmly against her waist, propping her up against his chest. She could feel each individual inked digit of his digging securely into her waist to keep her close to his person and safe from falling. She could feel his palm splayed on her side, radiating with that surprising warmth of his even through her uniform. Come to think of it, pressed up against his bare chest like this, she could feel his body radiated that same warmth as well.

She could have told him to move his hand if she wanted to, but decided against it.

The warmth felt soothing.

Familiar.

Instead, she allowed her head to lull against his bicep and for her eyes to slowly close as she watched him walk them away from the cabin, the light of the flames within still somewhat visible through the sliding doors.

Instead, she decided to keep pretending.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for making it this far and supporting me and my work! I hope you've been enjoying the story up to now and that it's been meeting expectations! <3 Your support encourages me to continue with this series, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for caring and interacting with it! <3 God bless you all and til next time! <3

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kitcattales · 2 years ago

Text

Something There - Akaza x Fem! Reader Chapter 1: Something There

Author's note: So, I'm trying this for the first time, please bear with me for any mistakes, but PLEASE read the warnings and tags before reading as this fic d o e s touch on very mature and sensitive topics in mental health ;w; My purpose in writing this series is to tell a story as well as to give readers a relatable, realistic experience with bad mental health struggles along with a loving message in regards to that, so please be sure you're doing alright enough to proceed ;w; <3 I've never shared any of my fanfics on Tumblr before nor am I super apt at using this platform, so I'm not sure how this will turn out, but I thought maybe I should give it a try ;u; I hope you guys like the first chapter to my Akaza fic! ;w; <3

If you'd like to continue onto the next chapters available so far, you can find the rest of my fic cross-posted on AO3, FFN, Wattpad and Quotev! Links are down below! c: <3

Synopsis:

Loneliness and guilt can lead people down a painful spiral of darkness which is often times difficult to crawl out of. It can be suffocating to the point of which your thoughts are no longer your own. At least, they're not what you would recall them to be now that the person you once were is gone. Mourning and grievances can escalate and deepen the slope of self-destruction and self-loathing, pushing you further into an abyss of quicksand your fingers can't claw into no matter how hard you try to pull yourself out to make things right.

No matter what _______ did to reconcile for her mistakes, nothing ever made the emptiness and hurt within her go away. Life lost its meaning, and with it, the Slayer's will to continue had faded as well.

She had become so desperate, she convinced herself a demon of the twelve Kizuki was her only solution to make the torment end; to pull her from the quicksand and let her slip in a senseless dream.

To most, it would have been crazy, but to her? It was the last chance she had to make things right and to pay for the sins she could never undo.

Funny how a demon was the answer to prayers like that.

Rating: M for Mature.

Warnings:

THE FOLLOWING FIC CONTAINS THOROUGH DIALOGUE ABOUT SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND TENDENCIES ALONG WITH DIALOGUE OF SELF-LOATHING. IF YOU'RE IN A DARK OR VULNERABLE PLACE RIGHT NOW, PLEASE DON'T CONTINUE PASSED THIS POINT.

This fic also contains depictions of violence and gore. Don't know to what extent I should label it, so I'll just say that it's definitely in there (not that it would really stand out in a series like Demon Slayer).

The fic also goes into details about the Mugen Train arc so, spoilers ahead. It also slightly hints to stuff about Akaza's background - not in tons of detail, but there's hints.

CHAPTER TWO

Word count: 9,671

Cross-posts: AO3, FFN, Wattpad and Quotev (I am most active on AO3! <3)

Chapter 1: Something There

There was a light breeze this evening, blowing with the lovely scent of not-so-distant blooming wild flowers. The sky was cloudless, unobstructed and ornamented with an endless array of dazzling stars which freely blinked with detached innocence amongst their vast, endless world of obsidian depths. The moon – large and full – rested right in the middle of the spectacle, shinning its soft, ethereal light onto the earth’s plane of existence like a blanketed gift from Heaven. Underneath its brilliant light was an open plain of grass, long and feather-like with the blades which fluttered and danced hand-in-hand with the wind whom swept them from their rooted dance floor. All the while, from a distance, an audience of ancient cedar watched, their leaves restlessly enthused to join and encourage the ballet from where they stood so admiringly.

In all respects, the setting was awe-inspiring. A place most people would envision when thinking of a landscape bathed in peace and serenity. A place one could run away to so as to fall amongst the swaying blades, to roll along with them in their reality and giggle out joyous fantasies with the nearby cedar in a private, heavenly world of their own. A place where one could lay back, arms splayed, eyes to the sky, dreaming of an exciting, blissful (maybe even euphoric) future.

It should be a place drizzled in otherworldly wonder.

It should be a place of refuge.

A place people can go to by choice for a night of delight and mindful wondering – but there on the ground, viewing it all from a perspective so polar opposite from the view from Heaven, the scene came off in a completely different light.

The grass was coarsely grabby, edged with sticky little weeds which clung at her clothing as she dragged her feet across the hardened soil. Her body screamed cries of overexertion, protesting wildly and cacophonously against its owner, begging for a rest like the one the stars and moon dreamed of, but she knew she was beyond that point of grace.

The soft, white glow from the seemingly engorged moon only served to illuminate her path. It was leading her towards a destination every sane thought in her head told her to run away from, but the stronger voice in her edged her to strive for even beyond the painful exhaustion she felt seeping into her very bones.

The stars may as well not even be there. To her, they certainly weren’t. She never bothered acknowledging them when she stepped onto the plain. She knew they were there, by logic, but to see and actively acknowledge them would be a cruel reminder of the beauty of life that was so fleeting.

The sweeping wind reminded her of that sense of inescapable mourning for something that was lost long ago, the way it pushed through the spaces between her fingers even as she let them hang loosely by her sides, mocking her weakness and fragility. It reminded her of the things and moments she allowed to slip through those very gaps time and time again before this very moment in time within that desolate field.

The audience of cedar, much closer now than they had been before, swayed in precarious gestures, almost as if whispering amongst themselves before – suddenly – waving at her with urgency as a warning not to enter the land they shielded her from.

She, however, paid no mind to the warnings they attempted to heed her. Her eyes, though vacant and void of emotion, simply stared forward beyond the gaps in between their thick, barky bodies into the inky black deep within the land of densely packed cedar. The only time she listened to her aching body to stop for a moment was when she reached the edge of the forest.

Her right hand weakly pressed against the bark of the nearest tree, rough against her palm. Her body greedily leeched off of the support the chivalrous cedar provided by collapsing against it a mere second or two afterwards. She whimpered pathetically as her battered side collided with the rough bark, her breaths coming out heavier for a moment while she tried with the miniscule amount of willpower left in her to compose herself.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

Her teeth gritted painfully, her eyes shut tight, but she focused her breathing. She focused effectively, just as she had been taught and trained to, successfully alleviating some of the pain which screamed from deep within her core. When the world around her began to make more sense to her sightless senses beyond that of the pounding in her ears is when she allowed herself to gaze into the darkness once more.

Likewise, it was then that she had picked up on the pungent scent of blood creeping into her reality like invisible tendrils of poisonous vines come to destroy the idea of anything like a flower in a world like hers.

Flowers.

HA!

What a silly idea for something like that to exist in a moment like this.

Still, she was undeterred by the iron-noted scent. She had grown eerily accustomed to it over the course of time she had dedicated within her uniform. It was simply a sign of a cruel world; a reminder of how temporary everything was.

She was well aware the scent typically spelled out ‘danger’ and a definite threat within the near vicinity, and for a person like her who was so worn and tattered, it urged for her to turn back to run almost in an audible whisper.

Was it the cedar talking in the blood’s behalf? The chitter-chatter of their leaves fluttering deterrently, begging for her to reconsider?

Blatantly, she ignored.

She pushed herself off of the tree she leaned against and forced her body to continue forward. Quickly, as she slipped beneath the thick canopy of the forest, the moon and stars ceased to exist. Though she hadn’t actively acknowledged them when passing through the field, their absence was prevalently notable as soon as the branches of cedar roofed her within their mysterious home. The world around her grew as dark as the one thriving in her head, teeming with a life she was unaware of and instinctually afraid of.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

The fear was quickly swallowed up by the inky sensation of disassociation. It had only served to exist a few moments in the back of her head, wondering aloud what she might run into on the way to the finish line she had drawn for herself, but it just as quickly fell to a numbing silence. Her head filled with fog and quiet, aiding in the subsiding of the gooseflesh which had momentarily sprouted along the length of her arms.

There was nothing to be afraid of. She had planned this shortly after she found out about what dwelled in this area. For a long time, she had been dreaming of a way out of the nightmare that is her daily life she could not escape from, and just like that, as destined by fate, the solution had fallen onto her lap through speculating whispers and murmurs from people in the nearby village about the things which sometimes dwelled in the cedar forest. It had been a hunch, a possibility with an equal possibility of it being something else entirely which the villagers spoke of, but something inside of the young woman told her this was definitely what she had been hoping for since everything had first started going downhill.

As she dragged her feet and trudged deeper and deeper into the abyssal world she walked through like a stranger in a town she didn’t belong in, she picked up on the sounds of creatures moving in the dark. Creatures she didn’t come here to see today. She could sense their presences in her flesh and bone, humming and vibrating with their being to force her awareness on them. She, however, chose to force her awareness of them into silence.

No, she didn’t come here for just any demon.

She came here tonight for a very specific one.

One she knew was stronger than any other she had ever faced or heard of thus far.

The one that would be the perfect and quick solution to her problem.

I could just stop walking, she thought as she dragged the top of her foot along the dirt beneath her to force it in front of her for another agonized step forward. It hurts to walk, anyway. I could just stop here, let any of the ones following me right now do away with me. End the nightmares already…She shook her head, forcing her steps to gain a bit of haste, though she made no move for her Nichirin sword sheathed at her side – her only true form of defense in the midst of an infestation like the one she ventured into. No. The weaker ones are cheekier than all hell. They like to play with their prey and food. They’ll make it worse for me than it needs to be. No, I’ll get to him and have him do it fast. I’m fairly certain he does it for sport, and with a demon as ridiculously strong as him, I probably wouldn’t even feel it when it happens. If the worst happens and the rumors are wrong…well…the others still remain an inescapable option at this point. One way or another, I’ll be able to pay for my weaknesses. I’ll make it up to them all. The nightmares will end and I’ll slip away like I should’ve so long ago.

The thought caused her brow to furrow as the sorrowful emotion she seemed tied to the hip with washed over her. It felt suffocating, like she had been forced down a waterfall and the harsh waves just kept battering onto her over and over, leaving her sore in every possible way. Before everything got as bad as it had, when everything was still so fresh and explicit in her mind, the feeling would’ve caused tears to surface in her eyes. She would’ve collapsed and bawled, a soul-raking kind of cry that shook her to her very spirit, rattling the human frame caged within her skin. A mournful sound and act of hopelessness to help her cope and allow her body to wash out the pain that was so endless and vast.

Not this time, though.

She hadn’t cried like that in a very long time.

The last time she had shed those kinds of heartbreaking tears was when her best friends had died on the field, a small group sent out to protect the very village she trekked from right now. There were demons terrorizing the villagers for weeks, people going missing in the forest leaving nothing behind but their screams in the night. Her squad arrived, eager and confident in their abilities to aid the people they had been sent to save…Yet, in the end, the ones who needed saving were them.

She could remember it as though it had happened just yesterday. The blood of her friends slowly dripping from her hands as she had desperately tried to stem their bleeding when the demon had coward off because of the rising sun. She could remember how loud she had cried for help to the point that her throat felt bloody and raw, how desperately she had begged with her friends not to die on her. Not to leave her. Not to let her weak and feeble attempt at protecting them and the villagers be the reason they were going.

Not to let them jumping in to save her be the reason they died in her arms.

Unfortunately, it was a request neither of them could fulfill for her.

By the time help arrived, they were gone. Nothing left but corpses in her arms staring blankly towards dawn.

She cried harder than she ever had that day. The only people she had ever considered family – the only people she had close to her left in a world so bleak – had been ripped away from her when they came to her aid; all because she couldn’t defend herself.

All because she allowed herself to believe she had the upper hand.

All because she allowed herself to get cocky.

All because she left her blindside wide open.

PATHETIC, PATHETIC, PATHETIC! You don’t deserve to be alive! It should’ve been YOU who died that day, not THEM!

Her head lulled from side to side as the harsh thought rang in her mind, reminding her time and time again that she wasn’t worthy of their sacrifice; that they had bestowed a value on her insignificant life she had no clue what she did to earn.

“I know…” She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes fluttering for a moment from the pain radiating in her with each step she took. The recent fight to defend the village from demons had left her body a tattered and bruised mess beneath her uniform, barely able to do anything without nearly collapsing every few minutes. It had been going nonstop for many nights now, these harsh, numerous battles. Battles she felt tied to finish in memory of the ones she lost during the original mission. A sort of reconciliation she was aware would never amount to wash away the sins she’s committed towards the ones who loved her most, but the beating her body received every night…it felt well-earned.

“I know…” She repeated, her lip quivering as the shaken breath left her. “I-I know I don’t…”

The forest around her began to giggle and chuckle through the dark. Cheeky, mischievous whispers floated from cedar to cedar as the sensation of a million pairs of eyes staring her back down crept through her veins. By instinct, her senses had heightened again, becoming more and more aware of the things following her and gossiping about her, laughing about how easy it would be to rush in and end her right there, but deciding to play around with their food to prolong the inevitable through a torturous mind game.

I’m not scared to die. I haven’t been for a long time. I’m not afraid. None of this scares me. They can’t do anything to me I haven’t felt already in a million different ways. I. Am not. Afraid.

The laughter in the woods grew louder, almost as though they had peeked into her mind and read her thoughts. Mocking her. Gossiping about the reality she tried to hide behind her lies.

She tried her best to ignore the gossip. Her nails dug into bark as her hands pressed and pushed her feebly from tree to tree, each one she passed by close enough aiding on her course of self-destruction despite their previous warnings. The grass and weeds around her feet clung to her clothing just as they had done on the open plain, tugging at her harder and with more persistence the deeper into the void she propelled herself. Her dragging feet pulled away from them each and every time, deadest on reaching the end of what the woods attempted to protect her from.

Nothing could deter her from her quest, and the only thing which caused her pause and hesitation in her trek so deep within the darkness was the sound of a collapsing cedar a short distance away.

The timber was dissonant and jarringly crackling like booming thunder. When the massive cedar collided with the ground, the entire forest appeared to shake and tremble in protest of its fallen extremity. The living cedars chittered and waved in anxious, shrill cries before the world around her plummeted into deafening silence. Even the laughter and gossip had ceased from the demons she knew remained close by. She was sure they had been toying with her, but from the sound of the collapsing cedar, it appeared she had found what she sought, and the affirmation of his existence deep within the desolate forest forced them into fearfully respectful silence.

She stared ahead, leaning against a tree once more, watching intently through her vacant gaze for further movement. Her panted breath was all she could hear for a few moments, and her heart had plummeted into the abyss of her stomach when a thought crossed her mind.

Maybe it was just a random tree that was about to fall. Maybe nothing really caused it to fall other than an old injury to its bark. Maybe the rumors are just that: rumors. Maybe I’m stuck with my terrible plan B after all.

The thunderous sound of yet another falling cedar, however, told her she was wrong. The quick succession didn’t sound natural, nor did the way the woods reverberated with the collapse. There was something else there, something else that caused a third tree to quickly fall right afterwards as well.

Her heart jumped to her throat with anxious hope that the rumors were true after all. The silence around her from the demons whom followed her up to this point also inclined her to believe it to be so.

It has to be him. She pushed herself off of the tree she rested against, quickening her steps towards the trembling trees and earth-shattering commotion ahead. Please let it be him. Please don’t be another lesser demon. Please don’t play with my emotions like this. Not now. Not again.

Her breaths puffed out faster now, shaken with the effort from her quaking, hobbling form. She could barely keep going. If this wasn’t him, whoever it was would have to do away with her, because her body couldn’t carry her much further. No one would miss me, anyway. The village would be better off with a different Slayer there to defend them. I’m useless to them. I’ve been able to keep the demons at bay thus far, but I can’t anymore. They’ll be fine until they send someone else tomorrow. I would be a hindrance if I had stayed behind. At least with me being here, the demons can entertain themselves watching me with him instead – or coming after me themselves if it really isn’t him. GOD, please let it be him.

Unsettled by her desperate thoughts, she shook her head as firmly as she could before forcing herself to focus once more so she may sense the beings in her surroundings. As soon as she did, the vibrations in her bones shook her like an earthquake, nearly toppling the already beaten woman onto the forest floor like the falling cedar ahead. She reached out, clawing her nails deeply into a nearby tree one more time, her arms hugging tightly around it as her knees buckled beneath her. She whimpered with struggle, trying with all her might to stay on her feet against the mighty cedar, but through it all, her eyes had stayed fixated on the area the fallen trees were plummeting from. The strength of the demon ahead was…terrifying. She knew he had to be, considering he was of the higher ranks of Muzan’s twelve Kizuki, but that it felt like this without any kind of confrontation? For a second, it caused the thought of reconsideration to cross the woman’s mind as freezing fear raced through her being to solidify her in place. Her eyes were widened despite their vacant state and her teeth clattered and chattered together with her trembling.

Remember what’s waiting for you outside of this forest even if you do somehow manage to make it out alive. The life you chose to leave behind. None of it is worth it anymore. You’re pitiful to feel this damn afraid of something you’ve plotted so thoroughly, but it’s a natural response. I can’t think of many people who wouldn’t shake at the sense of this ridiculous amount of demonic presence…

She took a deep, calming breath at the thought, the sound of the falling cedar becoming background noise to her. Nodding slowly to herself, she pushed forward one last time and began to drag her feet towards the man she now had no doubt was there. No lesser demon would even come close to the essence she picked up on, so at least that thought was calming in its own regard.

Keep walking. Keep going. You’re almost there. You won’t feel this pain or fear for much longer.

She pushed herself through a few bushes now, her shoulder bumping against another cedar as a small clearing gradually came into her line of vision through the foliage ahead of her.

Within the clearing was the finish line.

The demon she had come here to see.

The end of her quest.

The answer to her prayers and the consequence of her sins.

Akaza.

The name rang in her mind from memory at the sight of his muscular frame and head of short, disheveled salmon-toned hair. His back was facing her, his concentration mainly set on the cedars before him which his fists continuously connected with, causing for them to fall one after the other. Sometimes, he’d mix things up with kicks as well, his form rock solid and unmovable with each strike he landed. It appeared as though he were training a form of martial art which, in retrospect, came off rather odd to her if she really thought about it. A demon training his skills as though he were human when the amount of strength he actually harbored was beyond humanity in all definitions of the word? Maybe it was just something he enjoyed to do, beating the life out of tree after tree. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter. What mattered is that he was really there. The rumors were true and the finish line was now within reach.

She had heard of his battle and unfortunate victory against the Flame Hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku, through her Kasugai Crow. It had been widespread news when it happened. It spread like wildfire from Slayer to Slayer, the heartbreaking loss of a man so kind and great like Rengoku leaving a gaping hole many knew not how to fill.

In all regards, she should hate him. This demon. This disgrace and mistake on the face of the planet which only lived to cause pain and suffering to humanity. She should despise him with every fiber in her being – and when the news first reached her, she did. She wanted nothing more than to gain news of his defeat and demise while she mourned the death of the Hashira amongst fellow Slayers at the time.

Right now, however?

He was an antidote to her.

A sweet remedy she was desperate to taste.

A consequence she knew she fully deserved – and the desperation she felt for him to give it to her already only made her feel even less worthy of living on than she already did.

How could she want this so badly?

How could she be this desperate?

How could she be so disrespectful to the memory of Rengoku and the entire Demon Slayer Corps as to seek this demon out for the sole purpose of taking away the breath from her lungs?

Something anyone who knew him would quickly give up in return for Rengoku’s life.

If I could, I would trade places with him in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even have to think about it. I know I’m unworthy and completely incomparable to him, but if it were possible, I would give my life in exchange for his. He deserved to live. He deserved a happy life. He deserved a lovely future. He deserved every good thing in the universe because of how much of an amazing man he truly was. So, why is it fair that an extraordinary person like Rengoku had to die, but a pathetic excuse for human life like me is allowed to keep going? It isn’t fair. God…please let me trade…Take me instead. Give us back Rengoku, let me rewind time, put me on the Infinity Train and let me take his place against Akaza. Let me give the world that kindness before I go…

Alas, even if it were possible to do as such, she knew Rengoku would’ve never allowed it. He would have saved her just like he had everyone else on that train.

Just like he had given his life to accomplish for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

I’m sure if he were alive, he’d probably scold me for the thoughts I’m having. He’d probably start giving me one of his zealous pep talks, too, about not giving up so I can keep moving forward in the memory of them…He always had such a warm energy to him…So much hope, courage and perseverance in a world so bleak and scary. I wish I could’ve been like you. I’d like to believe I might be lucky enough to meet you in the afterlife…but…I don’t feel like I deserve to go where you’ve gone.

Her head lowered in shame, the quivering of her lip returning with vengeance. It was then she noticed just how many fallen trees were scattered in this clearing Akaza was training in. So much so, it made her believe the small clearing only existed because of him now, quickly growing in size with each massive cedar he brought to its knees. From up close, the shattering wood caused her ears to ache, the actual quaking fall forcing a flinch from her out of reflex.

Looking up from the litter of fallen trees, she watched as the demon stood up straight and rolled his shoulders after the last cedar he had beaten into submission. He turned his head to one side with a satisfying crrrrrack before turning to the other with the same result.

In his momentary pause, she found the will in herself to force her feet to walk forward again. She found it a bit difficult to maneuver around the fallen trees, her aching body screeching at her now with painful protest each time she jumped herself over one of them. There was no way at this point that the demon of the Upper Moons hadn’t become aware of her presence. She was sure he knew she was there long before she even showed up at this clearing he was making, but if he hadn’t, the raucous of her fumbling over logs and crunching leaves and twigs beneath her feet had certainly alerted him of her approaching presence.

She could tell, because he made no move to continue his training against the cedar no matter how much closer she got to him.

No, he didn’t move until she was right behind him, having somehow managed the hurdle of the final cedar at their feet.

If she hadn’t been before, she was definitely passed the point of no return now.

From up close, she could take in his details a lot better. Markings ran all across his skin, many of which disappeared under the cover of his baggy clothing. From behind, the ones which caught her attention most were the rings encircling his throat, visible still from the back of his neck. That, and the stained ends of his fingers and bare feet, his nails all tinted in a deep red color. All of it contrasted heavily with his pale skin tone and softly colored locks of hair which swayed just the smallest bit with the light breeze sweeping through the woods, offset even further by the reddened pearls ensnared around his ankles.

It was an odd thought, but the combination of his natural colors was a pleasant one. It was a strange sentence which floated in her mind for several moments because of how bizarre it actually was.

She supposed if she would give herself up to a demon, she would rather he didn’t look as terrifying as they come.

At the very least, there was something soothing about the softness in his palette. It almost felt like he belonged in this landscape, really, jumping out of the scenery like a painting in a black and white book.

“This is a surprise,” His rough, masculine voice broke through the silence, causing for the woman’s eyes to shift sharply to the back of the demon’s head. “You Slayers sure are interesting. Coming after me in my own domain like this? Can’t say you’re very good at sneaking up on the enemy, though. Might want to work on that.” He remarked, noticeably disinterested.

Why would he be interested? He didn’t even need to look at the Slayer to know they were weak. Their sounds of struggle as they traversed the fallen trees behind them told him all he needed to know. He had never been interested in fighting weakened opponents. Where was the fun in that? No, he wanted a challenge. Always seeking a new rival to combat and train with for years to come.

It’s a shame those damn Hashiras never chose to turn.

They really would’ve made the centuries so much more fun.

“I’m not interested in facing off, if that’s what you came here for.” He blatantly remarked. “You’re not worth the time, I already know that. If you want to pick a fight, have at it with any of the others in the woods, human.” With that, he readied his fighting stance once more, just as he had prepped himself with earlier. A few seconds after, quick as lightning, he struck the tree directly in front of him with his fist. No sound of effort emitted from him, but the mighty cedar fell backwards with agonized creaks and shatters from the single strike.

She, once again, flinched from the sound of the fall, her eyes turning to look at the defeated cedar before turning back to Akaza once more. A part of her was somewhat surprised that he didn’t care that a human was standing behind him as a perfectly easy target, but another part reckoned that might have been to be expected from someone of his prowess.

It simply reaffirmed the facts she already knew to be true.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to do next. Something in her hadn’t expected to make it this far. She had been convinced, in the back of her mind, that the night would end with her devoured by some random lesser demon in the woods before she could ever hope to stumble upon Akaza. Somehow, someway, fate had listened to her begging and delivered, but now that she found him, what exactly was she supposed to do? Wasn’t this supposed to be as easy as she always envisioned it to be? Wasn’t handing herself over to a demon supposed to quickly fall into the same pattern of blood, violence and gore?

Another tree fell in the midst of her thoughts, this time vanquished by a curt kneeing from the demon. This time, she didn’t flinch, stuck in her head, her eyes focused on the markings on the back of Akaza’s neck.

“You’re still here.” He remarked with a deep sigh, annoyance laced in his tone as he straightened to stand up tall. “Why are you still here? You’re no challenge to me. I assume you got business with me, but let’s be real here, you and I both know how things will end if you really want to try, little Slayer.”

“I…I-I do. That’s why I’m here…” She finally found her voice, deciding she would follow the flow life decided to toss her way right now.

Akaza’s entire demeanor shifted at the sound of her. He startled in place, stiffening from the unexpected feminine voice which carried itself so dimly through the breeze. By instinct, he had assumed the Slayer whom came to so (stupidly) boldly stand before him was a man looking for a fight. He had made a few short guesses in the moment he had spoken to her, wondering if maybe it had been someone from the Corps come to avenge someone he had taken down. He wouldn’t have been surprised; it’s happened before. Nevertheless, he certainly did not expect a woman to approach him for battle tonight.

Slowly, he turned on his heels, his odd, golden hued gaze, marked by the beast, coming to meet with hers. It didn’t take him long to take in the state she was in and to guess she was in no condition to put up any kind of fight, let alone with him if that’s really what she came out here to achieve. She had a noticeably heavy limp, most of her body weight balanced on her left foot. Her facial expression looked worn, spent and drained of all energy. Her Nichirin sword, a blade lethal to demons like him, remained sheathed at her side and she showed zero interest in pulling it out in any form of defense. Her uniform was one he was all too familiar with, having already guessed she was a Slayer long before he ever came to face her because of the distinctive scent of the cloth and the sound of her blade hitting her leg with each move she made.

Despite the roughened exterior, she was extremely feminine. A woman in all forms of the word. Her face was full, cheeks lusciously round with large doe eyes adored by long, fluttering lashes. Her lips, though pulled into a desperate frown due to the state she was in, were plush and pink, lightly pursed with the face she was making. Her hair was thick and tinted in (hair color) which shimmered in the light from the moon he had allowed entrance into the forest within their plain. Her uniform consisted of a knee-length skirt and the typical top he was accustomed to seeing on the Slayers, though it definitely filled out more with the curves of her womanly figure, the color of her legs contrasting heavily from her attire as well.

A woman. He thought to himself, dumbly.

He remained silent, completely taken aback by this predicament. He simply stared at the woman with his widened dual-colored eyes, trying to figure her out from where he stood.

“I know I’m no challenge for you,” She eventually spoke up again, her voice quiet, just there for him to hear. “I know you could…so easily do away with me…You could just…j-just end it all in a second if you wanted to, really…” She muttered, trailing off for a moment as her gaze shifted to the side despondently. “But that’s why I’m here. I…I-I don’t want to put up a fight…” Her gaze shifted back to look him in the eye, her composure quickly faltering and falling as she, quite literally, stared death in the face.

“I want you to kill me…Do what you will, eat me or just do it for the sport of it, b-but…kill me…”

Tears were beginning to surface in her eyes now, quickly blurring her vision before overflowing down the curve of her cheeks. All the while, her expression fell with them, her lips pulling into agonized whimpers as she forced the words out of her raw throat.

“I-I don’t want to be alive anymore,” She openly sobbed at the demon, a creature she knew wouldn’t care, but letting out the thoughts that had been screaming in her head for so long to anyone who would listen was better than letting them die in her head with her. “I d-don’t deserve to be alive, s-so just do it…Do it…!” She was sobbing now, her knees buckling heavily, causing for her sword to clatter loudly at her side. Out of desperation, she reached out to tightly grip at the demon’s loose haori in both of her fists, her legs finally giving out from underneath her.

Just like the mighty cedar, she collapsed with a loud thud that caused her world to quake, and through her blurred vision, she stared up at the man who would finish the job to let moonlight shine through when she was gone.

“K-kill me, take away my breath, wipe me out of existence! P-please, just make it stop! M-make the pain stop! I should’ve died ages ago, but I’m here and it isn’t fair! I don’t deserve to be here! Please, p-please…! I came to you myself, o-on a silver platter, it w-would be so…s-so easy to make it all end here tonight…! PLEASE! DEVOUR ME!” She pulled tightly on his haori, her eyes never leaving his in her pathetic state. She pleaded with him in all ways she thought she could, hoping to elicit some excitement and thrill of the kill in the powerful demon she clung to.

Anything to make the pain stop.

Anything to do away with the agony.

Anything to make the nightmare end.

Anything to stop the loneliness and guilt.

Anything to get what she so rightfully deserved.

Akaza, in turn, stared down at the human woman feeling an uncomfortable sense of foggy nostalgia. It wasn’t in the things she was saying or the desperation in her pleading, but from the tears and the hopeless look in her eyes. There was something…there. It was just out of reach in his mind, tickling his memories, whispering to him of times that never came to be nor came to exist. Yet, the nostalgia still rang.

Why did the nostalgia ring?

He didn’t know, so he continued to stare at the young woman, at a loss on how to react or respond. He made no move to touch her, simply looking down at her with an unreadable expression which more so teetered in the direction of bewilderment. After a moment’s consideration, he raised his hands hesitantly, confused on what he was supposed to do about the sobbing woman who now lowered her head deeply towards her chest as her body curled closer to the ground. Her arms remained outstretched above her, clinging to his haori as she openly cried her tears into the grassy ground of the woods.

He thought about removing her hands from his haori, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His hands lingered just above hers, his tainted fingers slightly trembling with indecisive energy, but he couldn’t bring himself to place them on hers to pry her off of him. In all his years of living as a demon, he had never had anyone so desperately seek him out to kill them like this. In battle, sure, when his opponent was mangled yet conscious enough to feel it all, but never so forward, out of the blue nor on purpose like this.

His lips parted with the attempt of speech, but no sound came from him. His mouth simply remained slightly agape before coming to a close a few seconds afterwards. The woman’s sobs had grown louder now, letting everything out she had buried within, and the sound of her heartbreak and loss of a will to go on caused for him to feel an incredible sense of growing unease and discomfort.

Was it pity he felt? He didn’t know, but he definitely felt something through this moral code of his.

Despite her distraught and the odd sensation it caused to bubble in him, Akaza had still caught on to the stirring of life in the woods around them. The sound of the woman must have caught the attention of the demons nearby. Did they really think it was such a good idea to encroach in his space? Apparently, at least one of them did. His eyes darted to the left as it shifted fast through the foliage before leaping out a second after in a bellowing flash of mindless hunger.

The sound of its heavy footsteps and soul-shattering bellow reached her viciously, jarring her in place as her eyes widened to stare at the ground beneath them through her constant tears. She only had seconds left to look up and see the beast that was running towards the two of them on all fours, all sense of sanity completely lost from the monstruous maw it held outstretched and salivating for her flesh.

Its fingers dug deeply into the ground each time its palms slammed onto it, booming repeatedly like massive drums straight out of the deepest depths of Hell. Its skin was covered in bulging, bright red blisters, pulsing and shifting with its savagely brusque movements. When its feet propelled it forward, it caused the fallen trees in its way to scatter wildly on either side of its massive rampaging form, slamming into the sides of the standing cedars near its position. It had three eyes – two where you expected them to be, and the third on its forehead, all of which stared wildly ahead of it. It sunk and registered in her the moment she saw them that its sights were primarily set on her, the only human in the forest, frail and vulnerable like a newborn lamb with a broken ankle left for dead.

Plan B was literally stomping towards her at the speed of sound and brutally forcing itself into her reality, whether she wanted it to or not.

In those split seconds before the collision, Akaza had moved before either of the two could notice. He had found the nerve in him to push her hands off of his haori for the sole purpose of planting his feet wide and strong on the ground in front of her. The sound of the earth cracking beneath his soles filled the air as his face morphed to one of sickened anger and his breath steadily left him through his nostrils. His hands moved so quick, their figures seemingly disappeared into thin air until they came to grapple onto one of the charging, deranged demon’s reaching arms. Without flinching, he lifted the massive creature into the air with little effort, the veins in his muscular arms bulging underneath his skin as he turned and slammed the beast into the cemetery of fallen cedar beside himself and the woman at his feet. A massive crater formed beneath its bulky, writhing body when it landed, the impact forcing the shattering of the earth beneath them to deepen and worsen dramatically.

With ease, he tugged strongly on the demon’s arm until it riiipped and tore from its socket. The atmosphere filled with its ear-shattering screech as blood splattered through the air with his curt yank of its enormous arm, but Akaza was unconvinced. He tossed the dismembered appendage into the woods as the beast roared in outrage and began to stand itself up, but before it could get itself very far, he had stomped his foot down ruthlessly on its chest, crushing bones beneath its skin from the force of the leisure blow. He pushed and pushed until the struggling monstruous being was buried in crackling earth. Meanwhile, its remaining arm attempted to reach for him and the woman while the other slowly began to regenerate at the bloodied stub. Promptly, Akaza gripped at its wrist, his fist crushing the bones in the demon’s arm as he, once again, ripped it from its socket as easy as ripping a paper in two.

“You’re new,” He let out in a low, husky, rough tone, eyes wide and staring into the mindlessly violent gaze the demon stared back into his as its own blood steadily began to pool in its crater. “So, I guess your stupidity in thinking you can rush into my space to take something from me is something you can do without an issue makes sense – but that isn’t the case anymore, is it?” He cocked his head to the side, raising his foot and stomping it back down onto the struggling, incoherent demon beneath him. Its bellows had never stopped from the moment Akaza had pinned it to the ground, the sound rattling the foundation of the forest, but it didn’t affect the Upper Moon in any way other than through annoyance and rage.

“I should give you a warning,” He mused, tutting as his foot stomped into the beast once again, forcing its chest to cave in on itself, blood pooling much faster in its crater; a morbid puddle of grotesque proportions. “Let you off with a tap on the wrist,” He reached down, eyes widening up further as the frown on his face deepened when his hand came to grip at the demon’s scraggly head of hair. It came off as though it had been a man before it was turned, and naturally, that made it even more enraging to him. Roughly, he tugged on the demon’s hair, forcing it to raise its head to properly look at him in the midst of its feral, bloody struggles. “That sounds fair, doesn’t it? Maybe I would have if it had just been me. Maybe I wouldn’t have thought twice about you. Maybe I would have let you scurry off without a second thought – but it’s not just me, is it? No, it isn’t. You came out here and charged at her, didn’t you?” He nodded his head, answering his own question as he reached down with his free hand to grip onto the beast’s jaw which hung wide at its snapping, open maw.

“Yeah, you did.”

Mercilessly, his grip tightened on its jaw and yaaanked backwards, tearing the bone and flesh right off of its skull in his iron grip. “You wanted to attack her, didn’t you? Eat her alive? Swallow her whole? Alleviate that disgusting salivation dripping from your mouth? Can’t say I’m surprised, but really,” He laughed humorlessly, tossing the bloodied jaw in his hand into the forest. “You should seriously know better with me here.” Pulling his bloodied foot out of the demon’s concaved chest, Akaza let out a heated breath and scowled deeply. “You sicken me. I hope your regeneration is quick,” He remarked, looking towards the stubs of the demon’s arms and the unnatural groove in its chest where his foot had once been. They were yet to heal, leading him to believe its regenerative abilities were not that strong. A lesser demon in all regards. “You’re gonna need it. Now,” He reached down and grabbed at its twisting body, listening to the gurgled sounds it produced with the lack of a lower jaw. Lifting the beast into the air on both of his hands, Akaza planted his feet firmly on the ground once more, facing the forest ahead.

“Get the hell out of my sight!”

With a mighty heave, he sent the demon hurtling forward through the air, quickly colliding with a path of cedars, easily smashing right through several rows of the thick, ancient trees long before the beast came to a brutal stop a good distance away. Akaza maintained his readied fighting stance, bringing his hands to the ready in front of him in case the demon was senseless enough to look for an actual fight.

It seemed that the beast was smarter than he thought, though, because as soon as it landed, it scrambled on its pathetically bubbling limbs before rushing into the forest to disappear in the dark.

After that, the world plunged into silence once more.

Not even the sound of insects minding their business in their microscopic world could be heard.

The young woman stared up at the Upper Moon’s back with a widened, horrified gaze. She was a crumpled heap on the forest floor, completely at this demon’s mercy, and the spectacle he had shown the Plan B demon was something that caused ice to crystalize through her veins. If he could be that vicious to one of his own kind, what’s to say he wouldn’t be equally as cruel with her? What’s to say he wouldn’t toy with her and inflict as much pain on her as he could just to watch her writhe and cry until he eventually got fed up with her enough to let her die? He was enraged so easily, so quickly…How would it feel? To have his strong hands wrap his ink-dipped fingers around her extremities similarly to how his pearls ensnared his ankles until he crushed her bones? To have him stomp down on her until parts of her caved in? To have him hurtle her through bark and cedar until she was nothing but a mess of human flesh and blood being soaked up by the soil?

She came to Akaza for a quick, painless death – but had she miscalculated?

Would a lesser demon like the one he just pulverized into submission have been more merciful?

Will a confrontation with him be unbelievable agony?

Would she feel every single thing he did to her until the life seeped out of her, or would adrenaline sink in and numb some of the pain by the time things got that bad?

The tears started flowing again, dripping down her chin and clinging to her eyelashes until she blinked them away. Her body started trembling violently as Akaza straightened to stand normally once more. When he turned to face her, a pitiful whimper forced itself out of her lips, her instincts making her kick her heels into the dirt to push her a few feet away from him uselessly.

COWARD, COWARD, COWARD! THE OTHERS HAD IT A MILLION TIMES WORSE THAN YOU! FACE YOUR FATE! ACCEPT THE CONSEQUENCES YOU SO RIGHTFULLY DESERVE!

When he started walking towards her, easily stepping over the carnage of blood and cedar, her heart sank for the millionth time tonight. It was happening. It was finally happening. He was going to heed to her request. He was going to give her what she came to him for – whether it was for better or for worse. Her crying came out broken and choppy now, her chest quickly puffing in and out from how hard it was for her to maintain a composed breath. When he was standing right in front of her, she shut her eyes tightly and allowed her head to hang low again, her shoulders heaving as she waited for the inevitable.

Several long, agonizingly slow seconds passed where nothing happened. She felt nothing, sensed nothing, heard nothing. She didn’t know what was scarier – the actual act of the kill or the anticipation for the blow that was to come. She supposed it wouldn’t matter either way soon enough.

The sound of crinkling leaves is what first broke the silence. The sound of movement. It was abrupt and didn’t last very long, but it was there and it was definitely caused by Akaza. Then, all of a sudden, in the dark of her tightly blocked vision, she felt his hands gently brushing his fingers along her wet cheeks until her face was cupped in a pair of roughly calloused, warm palms slickened with blood. A moment after, the feeling of his thumbs brushing her skin and painting it red tantalized her senses, causing for the eruption of gooseflesh to spread all over her arms. Despite the morbidity of it, the gesture from the demon somehow felt so…gentle. Soft. Tender. Almost…kind.

Could that even be real? Could that seriously even happen? A kind demon? A demon kind towards a human?

She knew of Nezuko’s existence, but from her vague understanding of the circumstances, she was a special case.

Akaza was in an entirely different category all on his own, not to mention his ranking with the twelve Kizuki.

No, this kind touch has to be a cruel joke…His palms, rough-skinned from his training and stained crimson from his brief, sadistic fight, cupping her tear-stricken face with this level of…compassion? Comfort? She didn’t even know how to label the feeling, but it was definitely something she had never envisioned herself labeling upon a demon’s touch.

Was he toying with her? Giving her a false sense of safety before he’d rip her head clean off of her body the way the Slayers’ blades cleanly sliced those of the demons off of theirs? After all, through the touches, she still felt that blood being caressed softly on her face, a cold and honest reminder of what exactly she was dealing with. Though the thought terrified her of the unknown oblivion which waited beyond living, curiosity bested her fear and willed her to open her eyes to look upon the world one last time.

Before her, Akaza had gotten on his knees to better stare down onto her frightened expression with a look of perplexed curiosity of his own. She struck what felt like olden memories in his head by the way she cried and sniveled. The sound strummed cords in him he didn’t know existed, long since dissolved in a past he couldn’t be entirely sure was once reality or something his dreams came up with when he rested in refuge away from the light of day – and now, as he gently stroked the skin of her face out of his own curious nature, the feeling brought other unknown instincts to life in him.

It had always been his moral code not to involve himself with human women. He wasn’t to fight with nor eat any of them, because that was simply the way he chose to live his life. It was a moral code he fiercely followed – what first brought it upon him, he wasn’t so sure. When he looked at the Slayer before him now, however, the image of her crying, frightened state answered a few of his questions in choppy phrases. Nothing linked quite well just yet, but he knew from the look of her that she came off…defenseless. He knew there had to be something strong in her by human standards, of course, that would amount to her becoming a Demon Slayer, but it was more than that. It was just…something else he couldn’t put his finger on. A strong desire to save the life she was so desperate to throw away.

Why would I want to do something like that? His brow furrowed slightly at the thought, his perplexed expression deepening. I don’t know you. You’re just some random human woman who stumbled into me with a ridiculous request. Why would I care? If you were anyone else – any other man I’d faced – I would have ended you on the spot…but there’s something in your eyes. Something…there.

But it was gone before he could grasp it in his mind. The memory dissipated like dust, drifting into the dark of his subconscious, leaving him only with the woman in front of him to make sense of the strange, growing protective feeling he had swelling in his chest.

“No.”

“…N…N-no…?” She repeated meekly, her voice forced out of her throat in a cautious, shaken tremble.

“No, I won’t kill you.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion and her lips parted, taken aback, surprised by the sudden answer to what she had begged him for. She stared at him for numerous, silent moments through the blurring tears in her eyes, unable to shake off just how bizarre that sentence sounded coming from a demon’s lips. Any demon would’ve leaped at the easy catch she came to offer tonight – one of which quite literally did. She had been completely positive that Akaza would have been similar. Maybe not as mindless nor deranged, but she had been convinced he would’ve reveled in the chance to play with easy prey. So…

“W-why not…?”

Akaza didn’t respond. He simply stared at her, one of his bloodied hands sliding further back on her cheek to allow his fingers to weave through her (hair color) locks. His striking dual-colored eyes practically stared right into her soul from how intently he observed and drank her in.

“Relax,” He spoke in a soft murmur. “I won’t hurt you.”

As the words left him, he pulled his hand back from her hair and stiffened it tightly, fingers straightened, before bringing it down firmly over the back of her neck.

She barely had a moment to really register what had just happened. The only thing she was able to notice in those few seconds before she lost consciousness was the powerful blow to her neck and the gentleness in the demon’s eyes. After that, the world slipped out from under her, gravity taking its toll and greedily pulling her towards its core. Akaza, however, caught her against his chest, having brought his arms down to wrap them around her waist so he could properly hold her to his larger figure. For a moment, he just held her, staring at the forest floor as his bloodied hands stained her uniform and her head lulled onto his shoulder. Again, there was something there. Something poking at his subconscious. Knocking at the door of his mind, cooing at him in seductive whispers to open up, but the door disappeared as soon as he attempted to reach out to let it in.

He turned his head to look at the woman in his grip and he squeezed her in closer to himself. This human woman felt…soft all over to hold. Warm. Plush. It was something he was unused to in contrast to his rigorous training, finely toned physique and all of the battles and missions he had been sent on over the course of the centuries he’s lived through. She was the complete polar opposite of everything he knew, really.

Not wanting to dwell too long in the confusing thoughts, he shook his head clear of them, bringing his focus back to the here and now. He stood up with her in his arms, shifting her in his grasp until he had her cradled in both of his arms up against his chest with her head resting on his bicep. Once he carefully settled her in, he began walking deeper into the forest of whispering cedar.

Any other demon would’ve devoured her on the spot, but he had no such desire.

For now, he had to get her the hell out of the forest to start saving her life.

Saving her life…What a strange thing for a demon to consider.

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Thank you so very much for making it this far! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to my fic! c: I appreciate it tons and I hope you're all doing well on your ends of the world and that you guys have loving support systems <3 Much love and hugs, God bless you all! \nwn/ <3

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