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Chapter Text

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"Why must it always snow in this sad world?" Mumbled the girl in the woods. It was June, yet frosted snowflakes nipped on her skin along with the cold, icy wind. She didn't seem fazed by it.

The girl had her face down, staring at the path below her. Her long, white tresses with bangs swept on one side slightly moved with each step. In her hands, she carried a basket– filled with herbs, money and wisteria.

The girl– even in the snowy weather– had a white kimono, speckled with circular blue designs. Her small sock feet, even when stepping deep in the snow, left no footsteps behind when they passed through the girl's kimono.

Her eyes were the color of an azure blue. Her skin was a pale white, and her features were soft. She almost looked like a child.

You wouldn't believe she was sixteen when she looked like a twelve-year old. You wouldn't believe it if you saw her eyes, and see the split cat-like pupils etched into them, nor you would believe the tiny fangs in her teeth.

She reached her hand into the basket and took out a handful of wisteria flowers. She took in its sweet aroma, unbothered that the substance should be hazardous to her kind.

A sigh of relief came from her mouth as she reached her home. At least, what she called home. She hung her basket from the branches of a willow tree. The girl took the wisteria flowers from the assortment of herbs, and spread then around her home.

Now holding a lesser amount of the mauve flowers, she took her basket from the branches and disappeared into the cottage.

The small house consisted of a single room. A bed was shifted to a corner. The remaining of the floor was empty.

On two tables were her materials. Cloves, spare wisteria, Turmeric, Cinnamon, water, ginger, honey, mint, castor, pine leaves and many other herbs were placed upon the smooth surface of the first table.

The other table was covered with a white cloth, and had a stone bowl, a cylindrical stone, glasses and more wooden bowls, along with spoons.

The white-haired girl took out her herbs and arranged them onto the first table. She took out her money, counted the notes, and hid them in her bed's mattress. She knew well enough no one would steal the money, but she had no other place to keep it in.

The snow outside kept falling like usual. The young dawn now changed to a soft morning. It didn't change the weather though.

The girl came out of her cottage again. She observed the woods. Everything seemed normal.

Then why does she have such an uneasy feeling?

Her onyx eyes scanned the woods. Then everything hit her at once.

The scent of blood.

The footmarks of shoes.

And the glint of metal in the snow.

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The girl stared at the metal. It seemed as if a part of it was coated in blood. She glided to it and picked it up with her claws. She observed.

The metal smelt familiar. Her mind flashed back to a while ago, when queer people entered her woods. They wielded long metal swords, and strange black clothing. Their only distinguishing features were their faces and kimonos.

The metal had the same scent to it; a sense of heat. The girl didn't like heat.

But she didn't like the snow either.

The footsteps also looked similar to the strange people's, so she assumed it must be the same crowd. She mustn't worry about humans who'd kill her without hesitation. She'd seen the people do this very thing to another demon like her who was camping in the outskirts of the woods. Moment he came in sight, the people closed and sliced his head, sending him to his demise.

She put the metal back where she found it, and turned away. The onyx eyed girl had no affairs in the human world anymore except for herbs and money. She didn't disturb their life, and they respond the same as well.

She almost took a step inside in her home, only the freeze dune to the sound of a faint groan, carried away by the howling wind and caught from the girl's sensitive hearing.

She whipped her head east and her long, white locks flew in courtesy. The groan, she sensed, came from far away. Someone was hurt.

She went into her cottage and grabbed the remaining wisteria. The sound could have probably been made by a demon, so she can use it to drive it far from her home.

She rushed into the woods, stuffing the purple flowers in her pocket.

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After sprinting for a few minutes, she reached the scene. The cautious girl avoided running straight into the clearing, and instead hid herself into the willow trees.

She'd came to this place before. The clearing was the only place in the forest where sunlight rays could peak through. They fell through the understories of the thick trees, forming small light patches on the snow and boy.

Blood spread through the white snow, tinting it a dark hue of red. A young boy lied on top of the snow. Well, what she assumed was a young boy.

The boy had a very muscular body. He wore no clothing in the chest area. The scars on them were visible. A large claw-like scar had struck him on the chest, red blood coming from it. He had the head of a boar, and pants similar to the strange people's. "So there are more humans like them..." the white haired girl thought.

What concerned her was that blood was seeping out of his head at a slow rate. The boy looked unconscious, as he gave no indication that he sensed her presence. In both hands were two swords, chipped from parts to form a design, but the tip of one seemed more chipped.

"That could be the origin of the metal." Thought the girl.

Moving slowly, she came out from her hiding place and into the clearing. She spread out her senses, searching for the slightest sound, movement or breathing. Alas, other than the rugged sound of the boar boy's breathing, there wasn't a soul in sight.

She sighed for the second time in the day. Today was going to last long. 

Chapter Text

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Inosuke tried to breathe. It was so hard to breathe.

He'd come with Tanjiro and Zenitsu under the Demon-slaying Corps orders, on a mission. Supposedly, there was a demon lurking in the forest, terrorizing a small village nearby. It had taken a few victims from the village every few weeks to go unnoticed. Unfortunately, the demon wasn't cautious enough.

He'd come into the cold woods, not worried from the snow and his bare chest. Tanjiro tried to give him a haori or a scarf to wear, even a shirt. Sadly, he was let down. Zenitsu kept on whimpering about the cold and the demon they were to face ahead.

Inosuke, having a haughty and brave yet callous personality, teased the blonde. He'd said that he'd take down the weak demon without 'Monitsu's' help. This reassured and angered the blonde.

It was early morning. Tanjiro and Zenitsu were sleeping. A wooden box was placed beside the red-haired boy, the box which contained his little demon sister.

Inosuke couldn't sleep. He had been staring out into the snow outside the room. He'd sensed the presence of a demon earlier, but he wasn't so sure. The sense came and disappeared in a flash, as if it hadn't been there. It made him uneasy.

Obviously, he went outside.

He had to find the demon. If he did, Monitsu and Gonpachiro would've finally treated him like the (delusional) king he was. As quiet as a mouse, he'd grabbed his swords, removed the stupid pyjamas and put on his pants. And being his typical self, ran out into the woods without telling anybody.

He was sure that he'd defeat the demon, come back and tell his underlings he'd killed the demon.

It never occurred to him that the demon could've defeated him instead.

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He was running. Running into the woods on the mountain ahead. Strangely, it snowed there all year, as he'd heard from Gonpachiro.

"Could it be happening from a demon blood art?" Inosuke pondered. "It's weak if it is. I'll show the demon who the king of the mountain is!"

That's when it hit him.

It was fast; too fast for the boar headed boy to see. The melee directed to his face wasn't hard enough to make him spit blood, but it did result in winding him.

The demon appeared out of nowhere. Bulging violet eyes, pale white skin, blue haired and ugly, the thing immediately plucked Inosuke from the air and threw him into a tree. That made him spit blood.

He estimated something had broken, but didn't heed to the pain. The boar-headed boy had charged. He spun as he used different beast breathing techniques. The swords whipped and slashed at the demon, occasionally cutting his hands.

After five minutes, the demon had no hands, many scars and blinded eyes. Inosuke had a few broken bones and a few bleeding cuts.

That's when the demon showed his blood art.

The shadows casted by the tree melted. They moved like inky liquid, moving from the ground to the demon's severed arms. The shadows materialized with each other, forming new arms.

"That explains how he's so fast," Inosuke thought. "If this fight drags on too long, I'll have to retreat. But the great Lord Inosuke doesn't retreat!"

"Who are you, demon?!" Inosuke spoke loud enough for the gross thing to hear.

"I am Rhim," the demon responded immediately in a far-away voice, "A past Lower moon. I known for my skills at my prime. Unfortunately, the demon lord disregarded me; sent me to this lonely place to feed on. I haven't had hashira blood in years....but you, young boy...WILL DO WELL!" He bared his fangs at the last sentence and leapt onto Inosuke.

Luckily, that talk gave the boar-headed boy time to regain his bearings. The two fought, viciously, shadows versus swords.

Alas, Inosuke's only human.

At some point, the demon overpowered him. The white thing's shadowed hands split into two more; two grabbing Inosuke, and two grabbing the boy's swords.

He threw the boy far into the forest, far enough from the border of the woods and deeper into it. He'd fallen in some clearing, empty of vegetation. His head had hit a tree branch hard, leaving his mind crumpled and in pain.

"I can't move my body...my mind's gone sluggish...is this how I'm going to die?" Inosuke mumbled to himself. The demon's claws had scratched his chest area, leaving a dark gash of blood seeping through it. The red liquid made him nauseous. It never made him nauseous before though.

The demon came to the clearing. The thing was about to continue with its barrage, when the first rays of sunlight came through the trees. The demon's head whipped in the direction, only for his shadow hands to vaporize. He bared his fangs in annoyance.

"You won't survive till the next night." The demon had said. "I've made sure of it. Pity I couldn't kill you with my own hands."

The thing had left Inosuke in misery and agony, staring at the green canopy of trees above him. Small flakes of snow fell and they glimmered like glitter from the sunlight, making them beautiful.

"It's getting colder...." The boy noticed as his eyes fluttered closed. He groaned a bit from the pain and gave in to the darkness.

The last thing he felt before falling unconscious was the light touch on his chest.

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Inosuke was moving. He could tell that much.

He seemed to be in the air; he could feel two soft hands tugging on his arms, dragging him across the snow. The pull was light, as if the person didn't want to hurt him.

He opened his eyes a peek. Glaring white light came; he immediately closed his eyes. He risked opening the again. This time his eyes adjusted to the white. The first thing he noticed was the blood.

That was a lot of blood coming from his chest. He felt light-headed; as if he'd ran through the rain and fought fifty demons at the same time, or when he'd drank a carbonated beer with Tanjiro and gone hyper (don't ask). He also felt dizzy, and each movement he did with his limbs hurt like hell. He wondered if this was how demons felt when someone severs their head...

His chest felt like fire. Every breath he took made him feel winded. He wasn't getting enough oxygen and it was slowly making him fall asleep again. The thin air only made it worse. It was getting hard to breathe.

Then his eyes registered the hands. Pale white hands were dragging him by his arms with feather-like touches, trying hard not to make the boar head register any pain.

Then his eyes moved up to the owner and he almost gasped. Which was surprising, since he'd never gasped in his entire life.

A person, with long white tresses, was dragging him. Warm, sparkly brown eyes were focused on the destination ahead. Inosuke could tell the difference between genders now; Tanjiro had taught how to identify a male and a female.

And this female, to Inosuke, looked so kind.

It made him remind of Tanjiro...those warm brown eyes...a fluttery feeling in his heart cut through the pain, giving him ease for a moment. Yet the sensation came and went too quickly, making him whimper.

He was aware he felt hot all over. Which was weird, since it was snowing all around. The boar-headed boy felt drowsy all over again. He gave in to sleep, trying to believe the pain would go away if he did...

Chapter Text

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She finally got the boy to her cottage. After finding him, she'd dragged him out of that clearing and into her cottage. She had no idea why she did that; she was only getting more risk.

Yet the white-haired girl had this feeling she couldn't explain...

She lugged the boy inside. Due to her small body, it took much more time to carry the boy as it would have if she'd carried him in her actual 16-year old body. The onyx eyed girl could change her size and age to any form; probably a side effect to not being drinking human's blood...

The girl removed the white cloth from her table. She placed it on the cold floor, and placed the boy on it. She then assessed the damage again.

The boy must have ran into a demon. Demons lurk on the outskirts of the woods, but don't pass through it often. The snow falls all year, but the cold is too much for weak demons like them to come into. Some manage, some just stop camping there. She's seen some of them, but doesn't offer to help.

The boy must have ran into a demon stronger than her, judging from the wounds. A normal demon would've eaten him alive. The thing must have ran by the time the sun's first rays hit the snow.

Her concern was his body. Humans tend to have frail bodies, getting wounds every so often. Even as a sword-wielder and a very tough looking man, the white haired girl could hear his shallow breathing, the small whimpers escaping his mouth. The man had an animal-like tendency; even the strongest animals get frightened when injured.

She placed her palm on the chest of the boy and made a mental note of his condition.

Scars she could heal? Check.

Irregular heartbeat? Check.

Serious injuries? Check.

A fever? Judging from his overly hot temperature, check.

Broken bones? Check, for now.

The onyx-eyed girl removed her palm. First, fix the simple scars.

She took a few rolls of gauze and bandages, along with human antiseptic, and carefully applied it on the simple wounds. She used the bandages to fix those.

Now came the chest scar.

The thing was about a finger's length and bleeding. It was (luckily) not where the heart was located, but somewhat lower.

She'll have to stitch that one.

She checked the mattress of her bed. Does she have needles? Yup. Does she have string? Nope.

Uh oh. She can't go in the village below at the moment. The sunlight would kill her. She'd have to wait until dusk to stitch th wound closed. But the thing was bleeding alot.

She sighed. A lot of problems to deal with in one day. Great.

The girl applied some antiseptic and wrapped the thing in more bandages. Hopefully, he wouldn't bleed to death.

Now to deal with the other potential injuries.

Feeling her arms on the boy's arms and legs, she pressed them very lightly to try and feel any break in them.

And she found it in his arm. Yay. Luckily, she could fix that. After more inspection, that was the only broken bone she found.

Now, deal with his head.

The boar-head was caked in blood, dirt, leaves and snow. The white haired girl cringed; no way could she fix his head without removing the skin.

With delicate fingers, she inched the head off his face without rowsing him up. The mud and snow fell of and clumps of black hair fell of his face as the mask came off, and the girl's eyes widened.

His face...was built...very handsome. He had dark blue locks which faded into a sea blue. He had long, black eyelashes. A somewhat female face, but the girl couldn't help but stare at it in awe. The boy had such a good face? And he hid it with this mask?

The girl came to the conclusion that the boy must be attached to the mask in some way. Similar to her attachment to wisteria, even though she doesn't remember why.

She kept the mask beside the boy's bed. "I'll clean it up later." Thought the girl.

The girl forced her onyx brown eyes to look at the boy's face again, and tried to ignore his hair and eyes. The boy's face was unnaturally pale, and beads of sweat were breaking on his brow. His cheeks were flushed and hot, but his teeth were lightly gritted in pain. Small whimpers escaped his mouth, barely audible to hearing, but detected by the girl's hearing.

"He seems to have a fever," thought the girl as she placed the back of her palm on his forehead. The boy's breathing was still heavy and irregular. For now, she dipped a cloth in the snow, and placed it on his forehead. She'll need to get human medicine for that too.

Then came the big problem. His head wound.

Turning his head a bit and moving his hair out of the way, she‍‍‍‍‌ could see the wound‍‍‌; blood trickled through it, staining the cloth below a deep red. She sighed again. "That'll be hard to wash off..." she mumbled.

She treated the wound as best as she could with her skills. She needed to buy a few more materials from the village. After a half-hour, the boy was sleeping and the girl was washing her blood-stained hands in the snow.

The white-haired girl took a few herbs, some ginger and some honey, along with some water (melted snow), and mixed them all together. The sweet, spicy scent made the cottage aromatic. She added more water until the thing became a solution. She poured the concoction into a glass.

The girl hadn't noticed the boy behind her open his eyes, nor had she noticed his movement. She was startled when a voice said, "Who are you?"

The girl jumped. Head jolting to the boy, she saw the boy, eyes wide, trying to get up. He still looked too pale for being normal, yet he repeated, "Oy, are you deaf? Who are you?!"

She didn't respond. The white haired girl just stared at the boy. His features were beautiful, but his manners were unruly. Teeth bared and brow scrunched, the boy got more annoyed. Her warm, brown onyx eyes stared right into his emerald, shining green eyes, still deciding whether to respond or not.

"Why you-" the boy took a step towards her, before grunting and collapsing in pain. In a flash, the girl was there, supporting his body, preventing him from falling face-first into the wooden floor. She hoisted him up by his arms and placed him on the white cloth from before. The boy was still awake. He barely had any energy, the girl could see, yet he'd tried to attack her.

"I know you're a demon," said the boy, making the girl turn her face towards him, "So why aren't you eating the flesh off of me already?!" He yelled. The white haired girl flinched at the volume. She wasn't used to hearing high-pitched voices.

The flinch being the only reaction she'd given, the boy exclaimed, "So you CAN hear me!"

"Obviously, yes." Mumbled the girl in a very low volume, barely catching the boy's ears. She'd hope that sufficed. It didn't.

"Speak louder, why do you have such a small voice?" The boy said loudly. She flinched again. Without a sound from her mouth, she grasped the glass she made, and handed it over to the boy before he could say anything else.

The boy stopped, stared at the cup, then glared at the girl. "You think you can make me, Inosuke– lord of the mountains– drink poison or something and get away with it?! Fat chance!" He yelled and would've dropped the cup if the girl hadn't caught it in time. She'd held her palm straight and the base of the glass slightly wobbled before being straightened by the girl's other palm. She placed it on the floor.

Without a word, she went out. She gathered a bit of snow in a bowl. She added some liquid from a tiny glass bottle concealed in her sleeve. The raven-haired boy was trying to wriggle his way out of the cottage, but by then the girl had returned. She then made a ball with the snow. The boy tensed up and paused from escaping.

His face met with a snowball.

The powdered ice shattered when it touched his face. Pellets of ice fell and melted, and the girl giggled. The boy's surprised face morphed into one of surprise, then of red-hot rage.

The emerald eyed boy fumed. He thought, 'How dare she dishonour me with such a petty act! I'll show her! Just-'

It was then he noticed how the world swayed around him once again. His eyes closed slowly as he gave in to sleep. His body fell, and he was out like a light before his body could come in contact with the ground again.

The girl gave out a quiet sigh. Atleast that prevented her for taking extreme measures against the boy. If he'd have moved any of his arms once more, they'd either dislocate or break, and would cause extreme pain. She knew the boy was a demon slayer, but even normal humans have pain receptors. Pain does register to demons too, but somewhat dulled on their end. Except if they hit the sun.

One of the many reasons she chose to stay in the forest.

She cleaned up the powdered snow put it in a grinding bowl. In it, she mixed a few sweet and spicy herbs, removed their leaves and twigs, and drank the concoction. The herbs were special and dulled the effect of the sedative considerably.

After her drink, she kept away all the utensils and rose to go outside, but was stopped by a hand of the emerald-eyed boy clutching her leg.

"You...didn't...answer....me..." his grip loosened round her ankle as his eyelids drooped. The white-haired girl glanced at the boy's feverish face with her warm brown eyes.

She then bent down on her knees slowly, put her lips to his ear and whispered in a beautiful, melodic voice that seemed so faraway, accompanied with her cool breath.

"Lumi." She said. "I am called Lumi."

And that was the last thing Inosuke heard before the darkness swallowed him.

Chapter Text

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She finally got the boy to her cottage. After finding him, she'd dragged him out of that clearing and into her cottage. She had no idea why she did that; she was only getting more risk.

Yet the white-haired girl had this feeling she couldn't explain...

She lugged the boy inside. Due to her small body, it took much more time to carry the boy as it would have if she'd carried him in her actual 16-year old body. The onyx eyed girl could change her size and age to any form; probably a side effect to not being drinking human's blood...

The girl removed the white cloth from her table. She placed it on the cold floor, and placed the boy on it. She then assessed the damage again.

The boy must have ran into a demon. Demons lurk on the outskirts of the woods, but don't pass through it often. The snow falls all year, but the cold is too much for weak demons like them to come into. Some manage, some just stop camping there. She's seen some of them, but doesn't offer to help.

The boy must have ran into a demon stronger than her, judging from the wounds. A normal demon would've eaten him alive. The thing must have ran by the time the sun's first rays hit the snow.

Her concern was his body. Humans tend to have frail bodies, getting wounds every so often. Even as a sword-wielder and a very tough looking man, the white haired girl could hear his shallow breathing, the small whimpers escaping his mouth. The man had an animal-like tendency; even the strongest animals get frightened when injured.

She placed her palm on the chest of the boy and made a mental note of his condition.

Scars she could heal? Check.

Irregular heartbeat? Check.

Serious injuries? Check.

A fever? Judging from his overly hot temperature, check.

Broken bones? Check, for now.

The onyx-eyed girl removed her palm. First, fix the simple scars.

She took a few rolls of gauze and bandages, along with human antiseptic, and carefully applied it on the simple wounds. She used the bandages to fix those.

Now came the chest scar.

The thing was about a finger's length and bleeding. It was (luckily) not where the heart was located, but somewhat lower.

She'll have to stitch that one.

She checked the mattress of her bed. Does she have needles? Yup. Does she have string? Nope.

Uh oh. She can't go in the village below at the moment. The sunlight would kill her. She'd have to wait until dusk to stitch th wound closed. But the thing was bleeding alot.

She sighed. A lot of problems to deal with in one day. Great.

The girl applied some antiseptic and wrapped the thing in more bandages. Hopefully, he wouldn't bleed to death.

Now to deal with the other potential injuries.

Feeling her arms on the boy's arms and legs, she pressed them very lightly to try and feel any break in them.

And she found it in his arm. Yay. Luckily, she could fix that. After more inspection, that was the only broken bone she found.

Now, deal with his head.

The boar-head was caked in blood, dirt, leaves and snow. The white haired girl cringed; no way could she fix his head without removing the skin.

With delicate fingers, she inched the head off his face without rowsing him up. The mud and snow fell of and clumps of black hair fell of his face as the mask came off, and the girl's eyes widened.

His face...was built...very handsome. He had dark blue locks which faded into a sea blue. He had long, black eyelashes. A somewhat female face, but the girl couldn't help but stare at it in awe. The boy had such a good face? And he hid it with this mask?

The girl came to the conclusion that the boy must be attached to the mask in some way. Similar to her attachment to wisteria, even though she doesn't remember why.

She kept the mask beside the boy's bed. "I'll clean it up later." Thought the girl.

The girl forced her onyx brown eyes to look at the boy's face again, and tried to ignore his hair and eyes. The boy's face was unnaturally pale, and beads of sweat were breaking on his brow. His cheeks were flushed and hot, but his teeth were lightly gritted in pain. Small whimpers escaped his mouth, barely audible to hearing, but detected by the girl's hearing.

"He seems to have a fever," thought the girl as she placed the back of her palm on his forehead. The boy's breathing was still heavy and irregular. For now, she dipped a cloth in the snow, and placed it on his forehead. She'll need to get human medicine for that too.

Then came the big problem. His head wound.

Turning his head a bit and moving his hair out of the way, she‍‍‍‍‌ could see the wound‍‍‌; blood trickled through it, staining the cloth below a deep red. She sighed again. "That'll be hard to wash off..." she mumbled.

She treated the wound as best as she could with her skills. She needed to buy a few more materials from the village. After a half-hour, the boy was sleeping and the girl was washing her blood-stained hands in the snow.

The white-haired girl took a few herbs, some ginger and some honey, along with some water (melted snow), and mixed them all together. The sweet, spicy scent made the cottage aromatic. She added more water until the thing became a solution. She poured the concoction into a glass.

The girl hadn't noticed the boy behind her open his eyes, nor had she noticed his movement. She was startled when a voice said, "Who are you?"

The girl jumped. Head jolting to the boy, she saw the boy, eyes wide, trying to get up. He still looked too pale for being normal, yet he repeated, "Oy, are you deaf? Who are you?!"

She didn't respond. The white haired girl just stared at the boy. His features were beautiful, but his manners were unruly. Teeth bared and brow scrunched, the boy got more annoyed. Her warm, brown onyx eyes stared right into his emerald, shining green eyes, still deciding whether to respond or not.

"Why you-" the boy took a step towards her, before grunting and collapsing in pain. In a flash, the girl was there, supporting his body, preventing him from falling face-first into the wooden floor. She hoisted him up by his arms and placed him on the white cloth from before. The boy was still awake. He barely had any energy, the girl could see, yet he'd tried to attack her.

"I know you're a demon," said the boy, making the girl turn her face towards him, "So why aren't you eating the flesh off of me already?!" He yelled. The white haired girl flinched at the volume. She wasn't used to hearing high-pitched voices.

The flinch being the only reaction she'd given, the boy exclaimed, "So you CAN hear me!"

"Obviously, yes." Mumbled the girl in a very low volume, barely catching the boy's ears. She'd hope that sufficed. It didn't.

"Speak louder, why do you have such a small voice?" The boy said loudly. She flinched again. Without a sound from her mouth, she grasped the glass she made, and handed it over to the boy before he could say anything else.

The boy stopped, stared at the cup, then glared at the girl. "You think you can make me, Inosuke– lord of the mountains– drink poison or something and get away with it?! Fat chance!" He yelled and would've dropped the cup if the girl hadn't caught it in time. She'd held her palm straight and the base of the glass slightly wobbled before being straightened by the girl's other palm. She placed it on the floor.

Without a word, she went out. She gathered a bit of snow in a bowl. She added some liquid from a tiny glass bottle concealed in her sleeve. The raven-haired boy was trying to wriggle his way out of the cottage, but by then the girl had returned. She then made a ball with the snow. The boy tensed up and paused from escaping.

His face met with a snowball.

The powdered ice shattered when it touched his face. Pellets of ice fell and melted, and the girl giggled. The boy's surprised face morphed into one of surprise, then of red-hot rage.

The emerald eyed boy fumed. He thought, 'How dare she dishonour me with such a petty act! I'll show her! Just-'

It was then he noticed how the world swayed around him once again. His eyes closed slowly as he gave in to sleep. His body fell, and he was out like a light before his body could come in contact with the ground again.

The girl gave out a quiet sigh. Atleast that prevented her for taking extreme measures against the boy. If he'd have moved any of his arms once more, they'd either dislocate or break, and would cause extreme pain. She knew the boy was a demon slayer, but even normal humans have pain receptors. Pain does register to demons too, but somewhat dulled on their end. Except if they hit the sun.

One of the many reasons she chose to stay in the forest.

She cleaned up the powdered snow put it in a grinding bowl. In it, she mixed a few sweet and spicy herbs, removed their leaves and twigs, and drank the concoction. The herbs were special and dulled the effect of the sedative considerably.

After her drink, she kept away all the utensils and rose to go outside, but was stopped by a hand of the emerald-eyed boy clutching her leg.

"You...didn't...answer....me..." his grip loosened round her ankle as his eyelids drooped. The white-haired girl glanced at the boy's feverish face with her warm brown eyes.

She then bent down on her knees slowly, put her lips to his ear and whispered in a beautiful, melodic voice that seemed so faraway, accompanied with her cool breath.

"Lumi." She said. "I am called Lumi."

And that was the last thing Inosuke heard before the darkness swallowed him.