Chapter Text
(Cover: Luck Has Nothing to Do With Encountering Beasts)
All around, thorns of a deep red color were scattered in a secluded area far from civilization. Those thorns were buried into everything; the ground, the bark of trees fallen or otherwise, and even bore into stone. They shone in the full moon’s light before dulling and dissolving into ash, wafting away in the wind despite the calm weather.
In the midst of all the newly created ditches, stood a hunched over figure of a human. Their clothes were torn and full of similarly shaped holes, but those holes didn’t stop at clothing. They continued on into the flesh of the figure, revealing deep, bloody gashes that further tarnished their apparel. Then, in a fashion that was entirely inhuman, the bloodied skin around those gashes started to close up, like they were being stitched together with the air as its needle and thread.
“Hah… hah… Did I get’cha?” The demon asked through strained breaths, their strident voice echoing throughout the barren area. That question was only met with silence and the distant song of a cicada that hadn't fallen asleep.
“C’mon! I know that didn’t kill you, slayer!” Their tone turned accusing as they stood straight and tilted their hunched head up into the heavens, their nose twitching as they sniffed the air. Not smelling anything strange, they tensed and yelled- “Say something, dammit!” Their slitted, veiny eyes dashed around the scenery, quickly scanning the space between the perforated trees with a snarl.
Then, as if they were overcome with a sudden pain, they hunched over once more and hugged themself tightly. Small points started to form across their tremoring body, making their skin jut outwards unnaturally. Those points elongated further and further until they pierced and split the flesh around them. Sharp, deep red thorns protruded from the demon's body and under their remaining clothes as they huffed and puffed, drool leaking past their needle-like teeth and out of their slack mouth.
“Just try to get close! I’ll skewer you!” They goaded, a twinge of fear in their breathless voice.
The sound of grass rustling from behind alerted the demon. Their body keened inwards, every inch of their muscles tensing as a fizzing sound emanated from them, then a loud pop rang out. The thorns that stuck out of their back flew from their host like bullets and bore into anything that was in their path with a thunk. They then turned around, their back covered with bleeding holes, expecting to see delicious blood seeping out of their foe, but the only thing the thorns stuck into were trees.
They clicked their tongue and cursed, the sound almost drowning out the beating of dirt behind them.
“There you are!” The demon spun around and reached out their arm, the large spike in the middle of their palm hissing as blood bubbled around the edges. In the corner of their eye they saw that damned spiraling whirlpool patterned haori flutter from afar and they readjusted their aim further ahead. Another pop echoed throughout the clearing, but instead of the expected strike of human flesh, the thorn missed by a hair and hit and flew off into the distance.
Before the demon could curse once again, time slowed down to standstill and all but the slayer came to a stop. The slayer ground their foot into the dirt, pivoting towards the demon that had halted while they were pulling their arm back. The katana in their hands sparkled as condensation appeared on their blade, eventually forming into water droplets that trailed behind it, frozen in air. The slayer's mind and body were working overtime to make themselves catch up to time’s flow, to be faster than a minute, a second, until the slayer reached the cutting distance of the demon before they could even blink.
As the last syllable of their curse exited the demon’s lips, they immediately noticed something was off. That the slayer accosting them was much, much, too much closer to them than before. Their sword was poised beside them, a geyser of water sliding off the blade as the slayer parted their lips. The demon reacted too, stepping back and reaching their other hand out, their palm packed together with many small, bubbling, thorns, and screamed with all their lungs:
“Blood Demon Art: Bushel of Thorns!” With a series of pops, the spikes flew in the air in quick succession, all trained the slayer before them.
“Water Breathing, Tenth Form: Constant Flux.” The demon slayer said with a calm confidence, the words flowing out of their mouth with a familiarity as if they recited it a hundred times. Water spewed from the end of the blade like a ribbon, following after the slayer’s dance-like movement as they nimble dodged the oncoming projectiles, the thorns shot through their hair, snapping only a few strands as the rest fell in line with the slayer. Their sword passed through the demon’s arm like butter before changing direction just as smoothly. The water from the blade morphed into the form of a dragon’s head as it crashed into the demon’s neck, biting it through as the blade swiped clean through.
The demon slayer followed the momentum of the blade afterwards, coolly ending their attack in a flourish as the demon slouched over. With a dramatic slowness, the decapitated head slid off the neck of the demon’s body while the slayer notched the end of their katana in their scabbard and slid it in in time. The head hit the wet grass with a thud, and next a click as the sword was successfully sheathed.
The body staggered without its head, the sliced area of its neck burning as it desperately tried to regenerate to no avail. The skin started to turn into ash, and then the meat, and then the bone, the remnants drifting off in the non-existent wind. The head gaped, its mouth opening and closing like a fish as the demon realized what had happened. Its side of the neck was going through a similar process, burning slowly, hellishly.
With a hidden smirk, the slayer adjusted their belt and hid their sword under their white haori and then silently went to leave without so much as a burial for their opponent. But the beheaded demon wasn’t going down without having harmed a single hair on their killer.
A quiet, fizzing sound echoed from behind the slayer who arrogantly ignored it, thinking it was just the body going through its death throes. They fussed with their hair as they walked away cluelessly. There was a loud pop and then…
“And that’s how I got this scar!” Your dad pulled down the shoulder of his yukata and turned his back to you and your sister as he finished his story of old. In the middle of where his left shoulder blade met his spine was a faded, circular scar. A visual punishment for his carelessness.
“Woah…” You, less than ten years old, gaped in astonishment at seeing the scar. “Does it still hurt…?”
“Of course it doesn’t, idiot. Your old man got it back when he still had hair.” A teenage boy, your aniki, corrected in an insulting tone while holding your toddling baby sister, Tokiko, in his lap. You pouted in response, not thinking that your question was anything stupid.
“Be nice, Tadashi.” Your dad reprimanded him with a pointed finger making the boy grumble and look down so he could distract himself by playing with your sister. You smirked and stifled a laugh which earned you a glare from your aniki.
You shuffled in place on the tatami flooring, debating whether you should ask your dad what you’ve been wanting to ask since forever. It was the perfect time, wasn’t it? Your mom wasn’t around, busy out selling her artisanal ware while your dad babysat, and you were sure aniki would back you up on what you wanted to ask your dad about.
“Dad, I want to be a demon slayer too!” You declared, looking up at your dad who was sitting on a stool. His expression twitched, a great reluctance appearing on his face. To counteract his worries, you opened your eyes wide into the best puppy dog eyes you could muster. “Can I, can I? Pleaseeee!”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know if you could handle that-”
“Why not? I started when I was her age.” Your aniki cut in, barely paying attention as Tokiko’s little hand clung onto one of his calloused fingers. “Just treat her like a boy and make her work, she’s barely a girl anyways…” He jibed with a smirk, not even looking in your direction as he insulted your femininity.
“I can be both!” You frowned and batted at his arm, barely doing any noticeable damage. Someday you were going to teach him a lesson. When you get big and strong, you’ll have him begging for mercy as you beat him up.
Your dad sighed and put his hand over his mouth in contemplation, catching your attention. With bated breath, you stared at him hopefully, your little body trembling in anticipation. He's really thinking it over, his hand rising up his face to scrub at his eyes as he let out another sigh, though this one seemed more… resigned.
“How about we start with some strength training? And then we’ll see if you’re really up for this.” Your dad acquiesce, his hand lowering to his lap to reveal a soft concern on his face. He wanted to test your resolve, did he? You could totally do that!
“I bet she’ll quit in a month tops.” Your aniki snickered and you immediately punched his arm as hard as you could. “Ouch! You little brat…” He growled at you while your baby sister giggled and your dad sighed.
“We’ll start at noon tomorrow, (Y/N).”
---
All of your life you’ve been hoping to become a demon slayer just like your father. He constantly told you stories of demons, wisteria, and the demon slayer corps to you and your little sister. The idea of becoming a demon slayer excited you while your sister despised the thought. She wanted to continue the pottery business with your mom. You too, liked making pottery, but your father had offered to teach you the art of the sword. Once you started, you couldn’t stop swinging the wooden blade. You wanted to perfect it sooner rather than later, even if the punishments for mistakes hurt. The concept of traveling around the country had excited you and made you determined. You couldn’t see yourself in any other job than this one.
Your father made you do hellish tasks for a child. Carrying heavy objects hurt your arms, running around the forest for hours on end made your legs sore, those previous two combined caused you to faint several times, and you had to spar with your already experienced father.
Even after all of that, even when your father had suggested that you should quit, you kept going. You went as far as to carry your sister around with you during your daily runs to make him spar you again. The face your father made after a long day of training and how he would pat and hug you made the hellish experience worth it.
It wasn't until you were fifteen when your father taught you about total concentration breathing. You thought the idea was stupid, you could already breathe on your own! But he insisted that this was different. Learning how to put rhythm into your breathing would determine if you could live as a demon slayer.
---
“This is stupid!” Your voice rang throughout the garden. Frustration flared through your body as you tried breathing the ‘correct’ way. “I don’t even know what to feel!” You fell onto the grassy floor, letting yourself curl into a ball.
“(Y/N)...” Your father sat next to you “It… total concentration breathing… you’ll feel your blood rushing through your veins, you’ll feel tougher, agile, almost invincible. Your strength and agility will be comparable to that of a demon’s. This is how we can stand a chance fighting them.” He moved your hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear.
“You won’t succeed on the first try.”
His voice ran through your head again and again, even affecting you after your session. How could you become a demon slayer if you don’t get it on the first try!? If you couldn’t perfect this, then you couldn’t become what you’ve been working so hard for. You’d die in the middle of battle.
---
It took a year until you could keep up total concentration breathing for an hour. Any more would make you nauseous. This stung. It had felt like you had already reached your limit, that you weren’t destined for demon slaying. A person with no talent in the art of total concentration breathing could never become a slayer.
Your mind constantly told yourself to quit, and to make a decent living off of selling bowls and vases. After all, it would be easier. But your heart didn’t want that.
When you were finally ready, your father talked to you about total concentration breathing combined with sword fighting. The idea was cringeworthy, but you had to do it in order to be a demon slayer.
---
“Tomorrow we’ll be using the breathing in tandem with sword play.” Your father patted your back assuringly. “It’s called the Breath of Water, it’s the easiest to master and the most versatile.” His hand gravitated to his sheathed katana.
To you, the Breath of Water sounded weak. Your father said it was the easiest, and what could water do anyway? You scoffed mentally. Tickle your ankles? How scary.
You were quickly proven wrong once he demonstrated the first of the attacks. The way he moved was as fluent as water and as quick as a current. However, when you tried it it felt awkward. Even though your father could do the moves in quick succession, trying to do the same made your arms and legs feel clunky.
Once again, you found yourself frustrated with your body. It was the easiest to master goddammit!
In the end, you decided that you’d just have to do it until your hands and body were ragged.
---
“(Y/N), can you still make bowls?” Your sister asked during one of your few days off of training.
You haven’t made a bowl in years. You were busy during that span of time, sparring with your father and getting hurt during various activities.
“Of course I can, I wouldn't be part of the (L/N) family if I couldn’t!” You said confidently, keeping the doubt from your voice as you strolled inside the shack with your sister.
The potter's wheel felt sluggish to you. Was it this slow when you were starting?
Your hands collided with sticky, wet clay. You wanted to at least make a chawan. While the half circle shape was easy enough to mold, making it into an actual bowl was difficult. You tried to thin the inside but each time you got close to the wanted width, your fingers went through the clay.
Comparatively, your sister's delicate hands could make the bowl as thin as she wanted without her fingers breaking through. She giggled when she saw your exasperated face. That had hurt your confidence a bit, but not enough that it made you quit!
When you were both finished with the bowls, you both went to the kiln. Your sister was the one to put the bowls inside. Her bowl looked professional, while yours didn’t even look amateurish. At least in your eyes.
Your bowl exploded in the kiln. The kiln was lucky not to break, but the bowls not so much.
It felt awful, doing something that you were ok with when you were little then realizing that you’ve forgotten everything that made you good. After all these years, you were too focused on becoming a demon slayer to even make a simple pot.
Your sister tried to comfort you but you just shrugged her off. You didn’t need to make a bowl to become a demon slayer anyways.
---
Your father had been giving you more and more breaks over the last month. You wondered if he’s ok? Instead of fretting, you waved the worrying thought out of your mind. Your main goal for today was to work on your flexibility! And perhaps your martial arts… Honestly, you just wanted to look cool while slaying demons. The only issue you had was the sparring partner you were using. The tree you’re kicking at was stagnant and not at all comparable to a demon, you assumed at least. You haven’t gotten to see a demon yet. The only info about them you’ve been given is that they’re fast, vicious, and ugly.
You kicked the beaten tree, watching as it swayed side to side. Taking a step back, you reared your foot, aiming for the trunk. When you had gathered all of your strength into your foot, a battle cry erupted through your dry throat.
“AUGH!!” Your foot passed through the weak tree as its top sways over, hitting the ground with a startling thud. Your breath hitched, and your foot came back to the ground. You staggered a few steps backward before pulling yourself together. Guess you would need a new sparring partner for your training now. Ah maybe you should just work on stretching and getting your leg behind your head. Yeah that's less destructive... you hoped.
---
One day, your mom asked you to help her carry pottery down the hill. Of course, because you were a good daughter, you agreed.
“ I have such a good daughter~ ” Your mom mused in English. She would often, if not all the time, speak to you in complete English. Your mom was a foreigner, originating from the distant country of America, and wanted you and your sister to speak in fluent English. If you were to be honest, you were more familiar with English than Japanese. Being a sheltered kid, you never really interacted with anyone who spoke the latter language besides your father.
“ And I have such a good mama~ ” You replied in a sing-song voice, balancing clay pots on your arms. She giggled at that, shyly waving you off.
“ Awwh you’re too nice.”
Before your mother could notice, a delicately painted blue bowl fell out of her arms. You saw and reacted immediately, letting the pottery in your hands drop in order to save the bowl. You had to save it! Yelled your brain. What if it smashed on the ground and hurt mom? A loud crash came from below you once you caught it.
“ Shit .” You cursed and looked down at the various broken pottery of all colors. A familiar feeling of shame and guilt combined hit you.
“ I’m so sorry .” Tears built up on the edges of your eyes, not yet falling through sheer will.
“ Oh, don’t make that face .” Your mom reprimanded lightly. “ It’s fine sweetie. This happens all the time .” She reassured you with a smile.
“ But look at you! You caught it before I could even think! You got that quick brain of yours from your father .”
“ Bu- but I still dropped all these pots …” You clutched the blue bowl onto your chest, not letting it have a chance at falling.
“ Just because you think quickly, it doesn’t mean you’ll always make the right choices. A hurried mind is a stupid mind after all, but it’s still useful .” Your mother concluded and started walking down the hill again.
“Just because I think quickly doesn’t mean I’m smarter. It just means I’m stupid faster, got it!” That was what you took out of your mother’s words.
“ I can still understand Japanese, you know! And you are plenty smart! Quick thinking just doesn’t smartly apply to harder subjects. Your father still does the same things as you do, not to mention your sister. Let me tell you about the time your father proposed to me …”
---
When your father told you that he couldn’t teach you anything more, you froze. Nothing more? What would you do next? Could you become a demon slayer after all this time? Did you finally pass! Or did you fail…miserably.
---
“I cannot teach you anything more.” Your father turned away from you. It was a windy day in the garden. The plants were vigorously shaking and the clouds seemed to be moving quicker than usual. Covering the moon every so often. It was a late day of training, but the darkness didn’t stop you or your father.
“Wh- what? Did I fail? I know I can’t swing my sword as fast as you but…” You immediately went for the worse possibility as you curled your fists, self-doubt clawing its way into your mind. Suddenly, you dashed over to your father to face him. His expression was blank, but something had to go through his mind.
“No, you did well for as much as I could teach.” That was good wasn’t it? All you had to do now was… wait, how do you become a demon slayer again?
“But” Your father continued, interrupting your thoughts. “I want you to do one last thing to prove yourself.”
“I’ll do anything! Just tell me what to do!”
“You must use all your breathing techniques in succession. You will only have a minute break between them. Your target will be the forest. If I see less than ten trees cut down, you fail.” He grabbed you by the shoulder. “Once you do this, I’ll let you go to the final selection”
All the techniques in succession… that’s too much! You can’t even do one after another! And what the hell was a final selection?
“What’s the final selection?” You mumbled, voiced dulled by the thought of spinning around so much.
“You’ll see”
---
It had been a few months since your father told you about the test. You’ve been able to do at least five techniques in succession. So, recently you’ve been working on your stamina and consistency. You were pretty sure that you could do this test properly by now. If you failed, you would just get up and do it again and again.
You mentally assured yourself, holding a scratched katana your father gave you long ago for sparring purposes. It was a long walk, past the garden, to get to a place with enough trees to cut down, and to a place where the locals wouldn’t get pissed at your deforestation.
It was slowly getting darker, and rain started to pour in. Perhaps that was a sign of good luck. Maybe the rain will inspire you to do better! Yeah!! You were getting pumped up!!! You could see those trees clearly now!! Time for a deforestation spree!
You took a deep breath and yelled at the top of your lungs.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
---
You did it! You fucking did it! Those trees didn’t know what was coming! You used all the techniques your father had shown you. All ten of them! Your body collapsed in exhaustion while your sight dulled and your hands bled. It would have been easier to not cut down more than ten trees. But you felt you had to prove to your father and yourself that you could cut through something that thick, twelve times in a row.
The grass and mud felt cold on your skin, though it didn’t feel weird. Rather, it felt amazing! All the anger and frustration left your body just like how the trees left their roots when you cut them down. How tranquil.
Perhaps you should sleep now along with the stumps and logs. Maybe your dad- wait no, father, yeah, would collect the logs and sell them for extra cash. You really wouldn’t mind a big dinner after this. God, anything food related sounded appetizing.
You started hearing sloshing footsteps from behind you. Poor guy, the mud probably got all over their shoes! The rain had been violent the last few days, enough to make the rivers flood. But to you, the rain made you feel better, it was something to keep you from overheating.
The footsteps stop close to you and you feel warm arms curl around you.
“You did great (Y/N).”
You did great, that’s what the figure said. Did you do great? Cutting those trees was hard but… you groaned out, thinking about that made your head ache. Maybe you’ll sleep. Yeah that’s a good idea, sleeping in a stranger's arms. You inwardly rolled your eyes, good idea (Y/N).
---
You felt yourself being pushed awake, but your sore joints rejected it. Waking up means moving around, and you really don’t want to move anywhere.
“(Y/N)! Wake up! Please wake up!” A feminine voice called out to you, but you really didn’t want to listen. If you woke up you’d also have food to eat buuuut you were content with the way you felt now.
“Yousuke! Why the fuck did you make her do that, she could be paralyzed!” The voice cursed in English.
“I didn’t think she could do it. I didn’t want her to go to the final selection!” A masculine voice angrily retorts.
“What the hell is a final selection? Are you sending her to death?!” The first voice screamed. Wait… you really need to pee, oh god this was super uncomfortable.
“No I-”
Your body shot up. Bones cracked and joints ached, but nothing felt more awful than the major stomach ache you were having.
“(Y/N)” The feminine voice hugged you. You tried to make them let go of you, but the voice wouldn’t stop. Opening your eyes, you could see your mom and father surrounding you.
“My poor sweet (Y/N), it’s going to be alright! Mommy’s here ” She patted your back a few times while your father looked away.
“I found you unconscious in a field of decapitated trees.” Your father had a slight tremble in his voice, but you couldn’t care less! You needed to go to the bathroom immediately.
“You… passed my test and you are eligible to go into the final selection.” He paused. “The final selection is where you’ll finally become a… demon slayer” His teeth gritted, making an awkward scratching sound as he waited for your response.
“Pee.” You slurred as you jumped out of your mom's arms, shocking her enough to let you go. Your father flinched at the sound of your steps as you ran out of the house.
---
“So what’s the final selection anyways?” You chewed through your curry rice almost immediately when it was placed before you. The food tasted so good to your starving stomach. When you tried to reach for seconds, your sister pulled away your bandaged hands from the savory food.
“It’s where you’ll fight demons in order to prove yourself.” Your father stated bluntly while your mom almost spat out her food.
“What! Fighting demons!? Do you want our daughter to die in a damn death trial?” Her voice sounded appalled, wait no, angry.
Your parents bickered away while your sister refilled your plate in small portions. She said that if you ate too quickly your stomach would burst. But you think she’s just doing it to distract herself from the arguing. You wished you could tell her to stop and let you feed yourself but another argument would have been even louder.
---
It had been a week since you had completed your father’s test. He told you that the final selection was this week. Then suddenly told you that the trial was starting tomorrow and that you had to walk all the way over there.
You’ve never had the opportunity to walk outside the city before and it was an exciting thought, but ultimately terrifying. A nightmare came true, you could say.
“Once you reach the circle of wisteria trees then you’ll know you're there.” Your father explained. You nodded your head violently at his directions. “Give a moment to grab something that you’ll need.” Your father walked away to his room. Your sister passed by him and ran next to you.
“You’ll be back right?” She questioned. Honestly, you had no idea if you’d come back, maybe they’d send you off to somewhere you’d never come back from. Or maybe you would die…
“I’ll be fine Tokiko. Once I’m done I’ll head straight home!” That was rather optimistic of you considering the odds with demons. Tokiko opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut up when your father entered once again with a plain black scabbard. Tokito quickly shuffled away from the small ceremony.
“This was once my old blade” Your father presented the scabbard. “This is called a nichirin sword.” He unsheathed the sword. The sword had a lavender-blue shade to it and it looked sharper than the katana you used to cut those trees. Looking closer at the blade, you could see delicate waves etched on the edge. Its handguard was oval like and minimalist in its design but its silver coloration made the blade look even better. It looked way too pretty to ever be used in battle.
“It’s one of the most effective weapons against demons, aside from wisteria poisons.” Your father mumbled, letting the nichirin blade slide back into the scabbard. “I’m sure you know that demons regenerate at a faster rate than us humans. But...” He held out the scabbard. “This will cut through them and burn their flesh. The burn it causes is comparable to the sun for a demon. Cutting their neck with this blade will leave them inactive and ultimately dead. The body will burn up, leaving them as ash and shrapnel.” Your hand trembled as you grabbed the scabbard. Nerves were getting to you. Once you took the sword you could never go back.
“I-I already know, father. That was the first thing you taught me.” You laughed nervously and gripped the scabbard
“I’m just reminding you. It has been a few years after all.” Your father’s grip loosened, letting you bring the scabbard towards yourself.
“Ah… but where do I put it?” You motioned to your clothing. You were only wearing pajamas with not many convenient places to latch the scabbard. Your father coughed anxiously.
“I’ll… give you one of my old kimonos.”
---
Put that in there annnnnd… done! Your father gave you a haori to go over your black kimono layers. The haori probably came from his youth considering how he gave it to with such reverence. Though made for a boy, it fitted perfectly on your body. You don’t know what that means but you really hope that it was just loose fitting. The outside was white with threads of blue twirling into individual spirals like whirlpools. The lining on the inside had various patches that didn’t disturb the outside pattern. Despite the patches being different fabrics it didn’t seem itchy... lucky you. The pants, however, were baggy and had a striking black color compared to the white top and you had to tuck most of the length of your kimono under your obi to actually put the thing on. On your calves you wore brown leather kyahan that tied in the front, and on your feet were white tabi socks, matching your haori top. You could have honestly slept in this getup and would have been completely comfortable, if not a bit overheated. Now onto the final part...
“Are you done yet,” You tightly tied the scabbard onto your side. “(Y/N)?” Your father asked from outside the room.
“Uhm yes!” You walked out of your room while tying your long hair into a low ponytail. “Do you know where mom is? I want to see her before I go…”
Your father looked at you up and down, eyeing your blade “She’s out in the town selling vase’s. You… look like a real demon slayer.” He said his words carefully, making you wonder what he was originally going to say. But that didn’t matter as much as saying goodbye to your mom.
“Well I have to go, father. I’ll see you once I get back from the final selection.” You put on a wide grin, jogging to the front door. Your father simply nodded and turned away, as expected. He was probably crying. You would have comforted him but you were busy busy! You hopped down into the genkan and put your zori on quickly so you could get out of the house sooner.
Once you stepped outside your jog turned into a slow paced walk. Your nerves were getting to you once again. You were really going to miss home. The garden, the house, your room, the family dinners… you’ll be missing all of that. But this is what you have to do to become a demon slayer. If you had to sacrifice all of this then you’ll have to become the best demon slayer ever!
Your train of thought got interrupted when you heard loud and fast footsteps behind you. You turned around to see Tokiko running at you full force. You braced yourself for the impact but it never came, instead Tokiko spoke up.
“(Y/N)! Before you go I want you to have this!” She shoved a light jade haori onto you, making you step back a little from the weight. “Ah! This is heavy! What did you put in it?” You gasped, regaining your balance.
“I lined the inside with some soft cotton I bought in the market! And- and the bottom of the sleeves, the top of the neck piece, and the bottom! I really, really don’t want you to freeze out there!” Tokiko sputtered out, pointing out all the areas with cotton.
“I can feel myself getting warmer already.” You deadpanned, putting the fuzzy haori on. Sadly, the sleeves were too big for you. The lining had made it longer than it needed to be.
“Oh no! I got your measurements wrong! I’m so sorry (Y/N)!” Tokiko grabbed the sleeve and stared at it distressingly.
“No, no it’s fine I’ll just do-“ You removed your arms from the sleeves and let the haori hang from your shoulders. “-This! All better!” You gave your sister a thumbs up and the haori slipped off one of your shoulders.
“Hhh it’s going to fall off once you start running.” The younger one grumbled. “You’ll need a clip…” She paused for a second. “Wait right here!” Tokiko ran off into the house once again, leaving you alone to wait. Though it didn’t take long, because soon after she came rushing back with a shiny clasp.
Tokiko clipped it onto each side of the haori “Ta-da! There! It won’t fall off now!” She proudly stated.
“Where did you get this clasp?” You touched the clip. It looked to be made of silver with a clover shaped jade embedded in the middle of it.
“Oh, I uh... bought it from one of the vendors…” She shyly swayed from side to side giggling a little. “It was hehe... on sale! And it looked so pretty! I just had to have it.” You had to admit, the clasp did look fetching. Especially with this color of haori! Though both didn’t match at all with your outfit… you kind of looked a little… tacky.
“Thanks Tokiko! I’ll treasure both of these items!” This time your grin was soft which made Tokiko ecstatic.
“Well hehe, you should probably be going! I love you!” Your younger sibling pushed you towards the city, which thankfully was also the gate to the outside and where your mom currently was. Tokiko could be annoying, well she’s annoying all the time, but today was special, you guessed. Maybe you’ll miss your annoying little sister too.
---
It was surprisingly rough going down the hill to the main part of the city. While you were glad that your family had a high enough status and could afford having a house outside the residential area, the trek downward had many mossy rocks that you could slip down on. It’s not like a path could be made to your house since nobody ever visited. Your extended family were either in America or dead, your parents never invited anyone, and neither you nor your sister had any friends. But who needed friends when you lived with three other people?
You dodged, weaved, and jumped down the hill with familiarity, avoiding broken pot shards and poisonous plants. You had traveled down the hill many times for training, you just didn’t go any farther when the hill ended.
Eventually you end up in the commercial area of the city. Buildings and houses lined the edges making straight paths with very few alleyways. Children were playing along the streets causing it to look livelier than normal. Women, presumably the kid’s mothers, were watching them from afar. Everything in the city was normal from the last time you visited.
Nostalgia pricked at your heart as you walked along the familiar pathways to the marketplace near the port. You could see some kids gasp once they realized you were carrying a weapon with you. They ran to their moms, sputtering quick words while others just stared at you. In the corner of your eye you could see a child rushing their grandparent into their house. It hurt to see them be afraid of you just because you had a sword, but that’s to be expected. You weren’t wearing a guard outfit and the only times you’ve frequented town were when you were a child. Even then, it was less often than most would think. You were practically a stranger to these people.
You hiked up your belt, trying to hide the sword in your haori. You couldn’t wait to tell your mom goodbye and to get out of here. This was really uncomfortable.
---
The marketplace was brimming with outsiders as per usual, if memory had served you right. Living near the port as well as a trading center was good for business, but it also could get extremely crowded. That’s what your mom said anyways, it’s not like you would know.
You shuffled your way through foreigners and natives alike, occasionally bumping into them when it got too crowded. Looking through the cracks of people, you could see vendors with foodstuffs and odd pieces of jewelry. This area was getting too loud for your liking so you hurried on over to your mom’s area. It was near a popular inn where mostly foreigners stayed. Good for business as your mom, yet again, said!
Was ‘Yasumu momo’ the correct inn? Well it’d suck if it wasn’t because you were already there. You huffed and walked past the bustling inn. Was it always super hot here or were you remembering wrong? Damn crowds...
Wait! There it was! You quickened your pace once you saw the familiar vendor. Your mom was there! You could feel yourself getting more nervous the closer you got. Would your mom force you to stay here? She definitely did not like the idea of you going out on your own, if she says anything like that you would ditch the place as soon as you could! But... doing so would leave your stomach in a knot. Your mom finally looked over your way and waved her hand.
“Oi! (Y/N) get over here now !” She yelled in English, shooing the potential customers off. You made a bee line over to your mom’s stand and stopped in front of the counter. She leaned over and gave you a lung crushing hug, you responded with a tough hug of your own.
“ Ack! Sweetie you're crushing me !” Your mom choked out. You released your grip when she ended her sentence, leaving her gasping for air. Perhaps you went too far?
“ So… You’re leaving now to fight… demons .” Your mom grabbed your shoulder and looked down to hide her face. Your own face contorted into a strained sadness, you didn’t want to see your mom like this. You placed your hand on her shoulder and leaned in to touch her forehead with your own. The warmth radiating off of her forehead was comforting to say the least.
“ I’ll be okay .” You quipped in your mother’s native tongue and removed your head from hers, letting your mom stare back at you “ Those monsters don’t know what's coming to them !” She nodded and took a step back along with a deep breath.
“ I have something for you, I hope you like it .” She sighed out and crouched down, grabbing something, presumably, and came back up with an Omamori.
“An Omamori? What’s it for ?” You questioned while your mom shoved the charm onto you.
“ They said it was for good luck. Keep this on you at all times. ” You took the threaded charm and examined it. The word kaiun was inscribed on the omamori along with white bells embroidered in the corners. It was a striking red color with golden threading. You were sure that Tokiko would appreciate the loud colors.
“ It’s great, thanks mom .” You grabbed the hilt of your katana and tied the string of the charm onto it. “ I definitely feel luckier with this on me !” You give your mom a thumbs up with a big smile. But instead of facing you, she looked longingly at the scabbard on your hip.
“ Y’know, I met your father when he was still slaying demons .” You perked up at the story. “ I guess you could say I was the reason he left. I don’t know how the process works, but he retired during my first month of pregnancy .” She sighed longingly. This was news to you, neither of your parents ever told you why your father quit his job as a Demon Slayer.
“ Ah, I’m getting off topic! You should get going !!” She lightly shoved you and pointed to the gates of the town. “ The exit is over there, be sure to let the guards know you're leaving. And lastly, don’t let any of those damn boys touch you! My gorgeous girl isn’t hooking up with some scarred up beef boy from lord knows where !”
“I get it, mom! No boys!” You nodded vigorously and leaned in to give your mom one last hug. “I love you.”
“ I love you too sweetie, now off you go !” You released the hug and started to walk off to the gate.
“ Remember! If a boy touches you, give them a swift kick to the crotch !”
Behind the Scenes in the Taisho Era:
*(Y/N)’s dad’s name is Yousuke (L/N)
*(Y/N)’s mom’s name is Cora (L/N)
*(Y/N) does half the stuff she does because she thinks it’s cool.
*This follows the main story but there will be timeline divergences.
*(Y/N) clothes consist of old hand me downs from her parents and uncle. Tōkiko gets hand me downs x2.
*(Y/N) is extremely sheltered and socially awkward. Tōkiko is the exact opposite.
*(Y/N) calls Yousuke, father, because at age 8 decided that dad was too informal and somebody as cool as her dad needed something better. Yousuke misses the informality.
*(Y/N) is not neurotypical.
*Yousuke took Cora’s last name in the marriage to separate his family from the Demon Slayer Corps. It didn’t work.
*Tōkiko is materialistic and often buys things she doesn’t need with borrowed money.