Chapter Text
When your mother heaves her head from the snow, you barely recognize her. Cuts and bruises marred her face, and a broad gash through her kimono empties her bowels onto the snow-covered ground. Her face contorts in agony as blood spills from her lips. You’re hesitant as you step closer—wanting to mitigate her suffering, but not knowing how—and watch as her chest falls with her last breath.
She is dead.
You meander your ruined village. It is a bloodbath; everywhere you look, you find gore and dismembered bodies. Their lifeless eyes follow you as you stagger down the footpath guiding through the village. Something had murdered everyone, and a lone explanation comes to mind.
A demon was here.
As you realize you may be the one and only survivor, you panic. You backtrack, thinking you neglected to look properly. After entering countless abandoned homes and sobbing out the names of people you know—to no avail—you grow disheartened. This feeling solidifies when you return to the stiff body of your mother to check for a pulse.
This can’t be happening.
From the corner of your eye, you see a figure stumbling in the distance. You run towards it, hopeful someone is alive after all. But as you draw near, your stomach churns. Its skin is cadaverous and bathed in blood. When it turns, it drops a gnawed on arm. Your heart sinks when you realize it belonged to a child. You’ve never seen a demon before, yet it’s as sickening as you’ve envisioned. It brandishes a clawed hand and you force yourself to run.
You hadn’t the vaguest idea of where you are heading, nor where you can go. The sun had set, so it was becoming difficult to see. Peering over your shoulder, you note the monster is hunting you down. It stalks you from rooftop to rooftop, adjusting its pace to tire you out.
Your limbs tremble in exhaustion, but you press onwards. The treeline marking the end of the village comes into view and you bound towards it. Before you can set foot in the forest, you're stopped by the demon. It slashes at you, but you veer to the side to evade it.
In doing so, you stumble over a snowbank and plunge down a hill. The force brutally propels your body until you slam headfirst into a tree. Your ears ring as you become dizzy.
The demon looms above you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of your death.
At least I’ll be with my family again.
A blood-curdling scream jerks your eyes open. Through blurred vision, you see the angry face of your brother. In one hand, he held a sword. The other, the decapitated head of the demon. As the head crumbles, your eyelids drift closed.
. . .
There’s a tense silence between you and your mother. You glare at your uneaten dinner to hold back from aiming it at her. There had been another argument, and it culminated in you feeling irritated yet again.
Years ago, through rumors spreading throughout the village, you learned of the existence of demons. Frightened by the possibility of an attack, the villagers reassured you the last one happened years ago, and that there is a group seeking to eradicate them. A group called Demon Slayers.
Now brimming with curiosity, you’d ask around for more information about them. Most of what you got were speculations, but it satisfied your fascination until you one day vowed to become one. When you shared your dreams with your mother, she became vehement, as she forbade you from saying the name.
Then came the day your brother asked.
"I just don’t understand. How come you let my brother become a demon slayer, but not me?"
Your mother sighs, setting her chopsticks down next to her bowl. She moves to sit beside you, resting her chin on your head and pulling you into a tight side hug.
"I didn’t want your brother to leave, but he felt it was his duty to protect the village, and foremost, you," she whispers. "We both want you to live a long, happy life. I'm sure you’ll find new goals for your future."
It wasn’t what you wanted to hear at all, but you don’t push her away. You didn’t want to lose her again. You hide your face on her shoulder and tell her you love her. She continues speaking.
"Besides, do you really think you’d make a good demon slayer? You couldn’t even protect me."
Your heart skips a beat. Her embrace is no longer comforting. Her nails pierce your arms and when you look around, you notice you are no longer in your home. You are out in the snow.
"T-That’s not true."
You struggle to wrench her fingers off you, but she embeds her fingernails in your skin.
"It is. You let everyone die because you’re weak and selfish. You’re nothing but a coward."
Your mother becomes incoherent as she gurgles and coughs up blood all over you. The more you writhe around, the weaker you become as you drown in her blood.
. . .
You awaken in a cold sweat.
The nightmare was so realistic; you swore you could taste your mother’s blood. Unfamiliar with your surroundings, you look around. It’s pitch-black, save for a fire going in a sunken hearth. You are resting on a futon with a thick blanket tucked around you. As you move to sit upright, your head throbs, reminding you of the fall you took. A damp cloth slides off your forehead and plops in your lap.
Where am I?
"So you’re awake," a gruff voice says. "And I’m sure you have questions."
Startled, you turn and see a man sitting across from you. A tengu mask obscures his face. He stands, making his way to a cauldron suspended over the flames. The savory aroma of what he is preparing fills the room. He holds out a bowl and you tentatively take it, keeping him in your line of sight.
"Who are you and where is my brother?" you demand.
"My name is Urokodaki Sakonji," he introduces himself, sitting across from you again. "Your brother traveled back to your village in search of survivors. My sincerest apologies, but no one else appears to have survived."
Your nose stings with unshed tears. You take in deep breaths to drive away the feeling. The last thing you want is pity from a stranger, though he didn’t seem like the type of person to give any.
"When will he be back?"
"I’m not sure. He was sent off on a mission afterwards. Once you recover, he asked me to take you to a nearby village."
You understood being a demon slayer came with endless responsibilities, but you’re saddened it wasn’t a priority of him to stop by before leaving. To distract from your disappointment, you shift your thoughts to Urokodaki.
Your brother must’ve had a close relationship with the masked man for him to entrust you with his care. However, you don't recall your brother mentioning his name whenever he came to visit. Though it wouldn’t be unusual, as ever since he left home, he hadn’t been as talkative.
"How do you know my brother?"
He explains he trained him years ago, referring to himself as a "cultivator of swordsmen". His responses inspire more questions, but your stomach rumbles, signaling the end of the conversation.
"Eat and get some rest."