Chapter Text
You stand at the edge of your ship, watching as the land grows closer, closer, closer. In your right hand you clutch a carefully folded letter, worn from much reading. In your left, a golden compass fixed on a chain. Your long dress is pale blue and neatly cut, though still elegant, with a plain white collar--a practical choice. The War puts a strain on resources. You train your eyes towards the horizon as the sea breeze whips loose strands of hair across your face. You shift your weight, trying to find a position that makes your knees feel more comfortable; you’ve been standing in the same place since sunrise, when you woke from a dream and found you couldn’t go back to sleep.
I’m here. I’m finally, finally here.
“Miss,” comes the gruff voice of the captain behind you. “We dock in an hour. You can get off then. Now, if you remember our talk, you’ll know I can’t help you get settled or anything, so I hope you know whate’er you’re getting in to, we won’t be there to help you figure it out…” He sounded reluctant to let you disembark, despite your long standing agreement. You take his concern as a mark of kindness.
“No, sir,” you respond. “I can find my way. This is not my first time being alone. Thank you very much, for everything.” You said it sincerely. During the many languid days at sea you’d prepared your mind for the task ahead. As a final thanks, you reach into your pocket and fish around for several bills which you proffer the captain. He backs away, waving his arms in refusal.
“No, Miss, you already paid, I can’t take anymore—” You seize one of his waving arms and press the bills into his palm.
“I insist,” you say. “You took on a great inconvenience, coming so far out of your way all for my sake, and I am deeply grateful. I could not have made it here without you.” You turn away quickly, before the captain can push the money back into your hand. “And if you still don’t want it,” you continue, “Consider it as payment for bringing my father word of my safe arrival.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see a bob of grey as the captain bows his head in acknowledgement, then walks away without another word. You study the approaching harbor, and Japanese buildings that, up to now, you’ve only seen in pictures. You think you see fishers pulling in to dock, and people milling about the shops, beneath the slanted roofs used in Japanese architecture. Mountains rise in the distance, gleaming in the morning sun, looking down on the cities below like watchful guardians. You’ve waited so long to come to Japan. You knew it would be beautiful, but you never realized just how much. Still, your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of leaving the boat, and you wonder if you have what it takes. I’m ready, you promise yourself, over, and over again. You aren’t sure if you believe it.
One hour later, true to the captain’s word, you are standing on shore, surrounded by a sea of kimonos. You clutch the unfolded letter as you wave it about, trying to catch someone’s, anyone’s attention.
“Excuse me,” you call in Japanese, “can you tell me where to find the… Demon Slayers?”
You get a couple strange looks. Most simply walk on by.
“Excuse me, where do the Demon Slayers live?”
No response. You try again.
“Please, where are the Demon Slayers? I need help, my home—” A careless shoulder bumps into you, throwing you off balance and onto your backside, dropping the letter. You run to catch it, jumping into the air to snatch it from the wind, then hold it to your chest. There’s something comforting about your father’s handwriting. A wave of guilt washes over you for feeling homesick so soon, but there’s nothing you can do. In all your life, you’ve never felt so alone. One thing’s for certain: your feet will not hold you for a moment longer.
You sit by the side of the road, still calling out to passersby, considering what your next step should be. You think back to the dream you woke from, early this morning. It probably meant nothing. At first you thought it was a nightmare, for the air was thick with screams and the floor beneath your feet was covered in blood. Around your feet lay the dead and injured, and those standing beside you wore faces of sheer and frozen horror as they stared ahead. Just a hundred yards away, monsters approached unlike anything you had ever seen, each one almost human-like save for one or more distinct features like extra eyes, distorted limbs, snake tails, horns. But just when you thought there was no hope left, a figure leapt in front of you, bright as the sun. Flames seeped from his lips as he grimaced at the demons, fiery hair and cloak streaming behind him, sword held out in front in both hands. You feared there were too many, that he would be overtaken by the monsters before your very eyes, but he stood his ground. One after another he slashed their necks, unperturbed by their shouts of rage and the attacks they launched until all of them lay dead, dissolving into a dark ashen substance before being blown away by the wind. Without turning to say a word, he began to stride off the way he came, but you ran after him, tugging on his flame-colored cloak so that you could thank him for saving your life. He paused. Turned. You never saw his face. Not before you woke up. You wished you could…
How could you get so distracted like this?
“Excuse me! Please, point me where to find the Demon Slayers!” you called.
It was just a silly dream. At this rate, you’d never find the Demon Slayer base. Yet the image of the flaming warrior haunts your thoughts. With all your heart you wish, desperately, someone like him would appear, and finally end your nightmare.