Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Run.

He has to run. If he isn’t quick, the people will catch him again. He can’t take anymore of it. He has to go. 

His legs are wobbling, his feet bruised and bleeding from moving barefoot in a forest filled with multitudes of its sharp nature floors. His mind and body aren’t cooperating. His hands sticking with splinters from grabbing onto the trees for support. The dark night and his drugged out mind isn’t helping on seeing his surroundings, he needs to be aware of where he’s going and who’s near.

Just a few more, just until he can know that they can’t reach him, then he can rest. Too into his head, too focused on keeping his body from falling into the muddy ground he doesn’t seem to notice a voice humming. 

He fails to notice a figure coming closer to him, its slow confident pacing coming towards him. He then only becomes aware of it when its claws slashes through his arm. The arm that was keeping him standing, he drops down hard. 

The ground hurts his already aching knees, the boy curses as he had failed to notice what was in his surroundings leading him to this predicament. Scarred from the place he had to rot in, marred in wood and dirt from escaping to the forest, and bleeding scared shitless from this entity that has slit its claws to his skin. 

Was it the demon that ruined his life on that night? Perhaps it had come here to finish its job. The demon was long gone when the villagers came to see his sister gutted up. The putrid shit was moving its mouth but he couldn't hear it, only ringing from the drop.

He’s going to die, isn’t he? He’ll be reunited with his sister, he silently hopes she can forgive him. He’s so useless. Even now, he’ll die to the horrors, just because he can’t fight. There's no one to save him now. His beloved older sister already did and where is she now? Dead. Her guts and blood was scattered, her body mauled to the point of unrecognizable. Her fiance tried to help too, but he ended up with the same fate. 

Why…is he so weak? He should have fought harder against the doctors. He should’ve thought of a smarter way to get out but no. Now, he’s gonna die the same way his sister did by protecting him. 

His eyes close as he welcomes the claws coming down to slice his throat. He stays still, he feels as though something dropped to the ground. The boy can’t open his eyes, he’s too exhausted.

What touches him isn’t sharp claws but a rough calloused hand gently palming his cheek, another is placed on his wrist.  His eyes burst open, confused. He sees a fox. One that has pink hair, the face is touched by a nice scar at one side of their face. and the moon behind gives the animal a majestic glow to it all. 

“Hey!” 

He can hear again. What was it saying? How was a fox able to talk? Did he stay in that wretched place for so long that the animals had evolved?

“Hey! Can you hear me?” 

“Uh- yes.” His mouth is troubled to speak, too tired and injured to continue. His eyes struggle to stay open. His body has been in survival mode for so long, if he isn’t going to die by that thing then he will definitely die by blood loss.

The fox notices that too. it lifts him up, doing it with no trouble as if he was just a bag of feathers. The fox is careful not to touch the bleeding parts of him, it’s arms cage him firm but gentle. Wait…how can a fox do that? He’s too tired to think clearly, the boy hears it speak one last time before he completely blacks out.

“Don’t die just yet, I’ll take care of you.” 

——

A boy bolts up but quickly goes down as he wakes up. His whole body aches, there’s not one part of him that isn’t causing him pain. His arms ache as he feels ghost needles punctuate him again, his legs lay painfully numb he fears he’ll fall down if he were to stand, stomach grumbles as if it isn’t used to the hunger, eyes strain as he labors his breaths, neck throbs with a sting of pain he has long been accustomed to, throat sore from everything, and his head pound as he tries to wrap around what happened.

Once the pain dulls down a bit -but not a lot-, he looks at where he is. It’s a wooden room, the brown walls are a contrast to the eye-soring plain white rooms he’s stuck in. That must mean he isn’t there, he escaped! 

Taking a deep sigh of relief and immediately regretting it once he feels the pain spike up once more. He remembers what occurred before he lost consciousness. That fox…

How did it carry him? What is it? He was so exhausted he didn't know what had saved him. Whatever it was…he can’t let his guard down, no matter what sugar coated lies it spews. The being might have saved him but that doesn’t mean his suffering is long over.

 Before the man -boy? What could he be called? Being used to getting called an experiment or a subject he can’t even fathom what he isn’t anymore. Is he even a he? Is he still considered human to the rest?-  could think more that he already has, the door slides open softly, the oh so saviour has blessed him. 

.

.

.

He feels dumb. Of course the fox wasn’t actually a fox! It was a human who had worn a fox mask, now standing above him, he saw it was a man. Not an it but a he. He still has his mask covering his face but he sees the pink hair surrounding it(Pink like salmon…) the man wears strange clothes. He can see he wears three layers of clothing(Doesn’t he ever get cold?) a black top that is wrapped in an eyesore geometric patterned clothing then is layered by a white haori, black hakama pants with the same geometric patterned fabric as leg warmers. 

The man moves to sit beside the futon he was in, he says nothing. He spent too much time staring but he didn’t see the tray the mysterious man brought with him. The tray holds simple onigiris and water. The mask stares at him, he stares back. 

What is he going to do with him? Will he be like those nurses who only treat him nicely and then show their true side once he trusts them? Maybe he’s looking for a favor in exchange for saving him? Before he could think of more reasons on why he was saved, the man spoke.

“How are you? Your injuries are pretty bad. The butterfly mansion- I mean, the hospital was quite busy yesterday so I had to stitch you myself.” The masked man finally spoke.

What is he planning? Butterfly mansion? He was the one to heal his wounds? He stops thinking clearly once he registers one thing.

Hospital. 

The man wants to take him back. He just got away. There’s no way he only suffered outside just to go back inside that hell hole.

  He has to go. He has to. He can’t go back. Not there. He won’t survive the penalties they’ll give him…

He needs to leave. Leave. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. He can’t go back. HE CAN’T GO BACK

Before his mind can comprehend, his body moves. Pushing back the savio- liar- hunter- with all his strength, no matter how much it pains him to force his body, he goes. Scrambling to stand, to get anything to support -or better yet, something to stop the man that’s going to take him away- his head and mind break, he can’t hear the shouts from the man, he only focuses on getting away-

He can’t breathe. Eyes flashes at every corner, too fast he can’t see anything. Mouth can’t close, the drool irks him as it drips to his neck. The feeling in his chest deepens to the point he doesn’t think it’ll ever let go. Ears are ringing. He was thrown to the ground. His arms flare as his legs kicks the thing keeping him down. 

He can feel everything and nothing at the same time, his eyes tear as his body wishes to rest but his mind is bent on surviving. Finally the black seeps in vision, body loses stamina, the ringing fades…He sees pretty lilacs as he fades away. Inside, he hopes it’s the last time...

Chapter Text

The water hashira didn’t expect this to come from a normal patrol. Save a few people? Easy. Slay a demon? That’s literally his job, he could do it in his sleep. What he did not expect to see is a rouge patient roaming around, injured. There was a hospital- that could hardly be called one- Urokodaki had told him to not trust those types of hospitals.

The demon was about to devour them but he quickly ended it’s breath and went to check on the victim. Claw marks tear through the skin and drips their blood, rough wood in the jaded skin, and using his hand to open their eyes further, he can tell the person has a concussion. The person’s hair makes it hard to tell what gender they are, long, greasy, roughed up and all over the place from venturing into the woods and the body is too unassuming. The patient slurs something so low he could barely hear it, “...a fox…?”

The demon slayer wears a fox mask given by his teacher, he wears it with pride. He tries to gather their attention, but they don’t answer. He tries again, he’s got an answer. Their voice is hoarse, it's too rough for him to distinguish how deep or high their voice actually is. They are still bleeding out, he’s careful to lift them from the ground. He had thought of running straight to the butterfly mansion but quickly remembered that it was packed, a lower moon had attacked multiple lower ranking demon slayers. A bothersome they are. Demon slayer corps’ requirements are getting too slack. What good are they if all they do is get injured and have a hashira go deal with their mission?

He picks them up, careful of the many lacerations on their skin. The body is too light. It’s a miracle they’re still alive, not to mention how severe their injuries are. He doesn’t know if the other can still hear him but still he reassures them.

“Don’t die just yet, I’ll take care of you.” 

The walk to his home is uneventful from there. It’s brutally slow for his style but he can’t quicken his pace unless he wants to bury a body the first thing when he reaches his manor. The slayer sighs, if he’s too slow they die, if he’s too fast and uncaring they die. He is not getting any rest tonight, not like that’s rare.

Finally, he can hear the waterfall of his estate. Reaching the gate and hurrying to get inside to save the person in his arms. By the time he lays them down, he can see how close to crossing the river the other is. Cracked light blue lips, skin even paler than the cotton in his aid box, and blood snaking around their body slowly breaching the mats and cloth surrounding them. He hurries to close wounds, gone is his mask and haori. The hands that wields the needle and thread does not hesitate nor tremble, after years of stitching his own and others’ it almost never happens. 

An hour that felt like multiple, he thinks, until the bleeding is minimal. Where warmth slowly creeps into the body and blue turns to light pink. He rests, a moment of breath till he has to clean the blood and then he can finally go to sleep.

Morning came and his slumber went away with the moon. The first thing he does is check on his new guest from last night, still asleep, the exhaustion and stress is clear on his face. He finally knows that there are two men in his home from him having to scope his body for injuries and to stitch said injuries. The slayer goes to bathe, dawns on his uniform and mask with pride. He prepares breakfast, soup, something light to the stomach. Perfect for his new friend.

Speak of the devil, he hears movement from the spare room he got him in. A tray in his hands, he goes to them. Once he opened the door he was greeted with a, thankfully, alive human that was breathing like he just discovered how to breathe. Moving slowly, careful To approach, like one would do to a wounded feral animal. He places the tray of food to the side of the tatami mat and sits near them. He stays still, waiting for the other to calm down while said other was looking at him like he's seeing a ghost, unaware of what's he going to do.

Can't take it with the head-aching silence, he speaks, “How are you? Your injuries are pretty bad. The butterfly mansion- I mean, the hospital was quite busy yesterday so I had to stitch you myself.” 

…

Already he realized he made a mistake. Shit. Hospital. The thing they call the building he just escaped from. He's used to calling the butterfly manor a hospital to civilians whenever they are in dire need of medicine specifically for blood demon art, unable to acquire in normal hospitals. Before he could say anything else, to embarrass himself even further or calm them down, he gets pushed, hard, down to the floor.

 The wounded man had dashed pass him, trying to escape, the slayer tries to think as he hurries to calm him down. Trying to soothe them back to normal, the results were nought, he tries to calm his worries with pleasantry that he doesn't think the other can hear.

All through this, he's only been standing. Not wanting him to panic further when he clearly can't survey his environment. He steps in the moment he sees an inkling of the patient's wounds opening. Efficiently taking him down to the floor, careful not to be too harsh, maneuvering him to lay down properly instead of his face on the ground. He checks his body, luckily, he didn't aggravate the stitches too much. The slayer takes off his mask as he notices the other fading conscious.

Is he cut out for this?

As the other sleep in restless slumber, the slayer thinks on their situation. He finally placed him back on a tatami mat, and currently he's sitting with his back against the wall. Whenever he's too late to save one's family and they're left on their own, he usually gives them to the kakushis or the butterfly mansion if they were injured but this times he couldn't. It's a no brainer the mansion is a no go, he doesn't know how well the other will handle being given off to random masked people, no matter how welcoming or nice they appeal to him.

A sigh leaves his mouth. There's no other choice than to house him for a while, it's dangerous to let him get out in his mental state, for others and himself, and there's no way he's putting him back to that wretched place. While he was treating him, he noticed that most of his injuries aren't even from him escaping. He has seen so much during his time as a demon slayer but never has he seen this many damage to one's body, and to think it was all done by humans…

His conscience wouldn't let him rest of he were to just leave the other but what could he do? He isn't known to be emotionally welcoming, he has no clue on how to deal with this type of person. He could ask Kocho's tsuguko for advise? He does need to make a letter to her anyways, seeing if she could visit the water estate to see his new companion's health.

As he currently sits down with writing materials in front of him, he can't help but feel slightly embarrassed, he's eight-teen and he's asking a newly turned fifteen years old for advise! Whatever, he shakes his head before focusing on his new objective: making the letter.

" To the master of the butterfly estate, Shinobu Kocho,

As I was doing my nightly patrol, I came a across a demon terrorizing a human. The victim was escaping from a medical institute not too far from where we stood. Currently I have fixed up all his wounds to the best of my abilities but I was hoping if you could spare some of your time to come by my estate so you could evaluate his health.

Normally I would have sent him to you but this case is different, he does not deal well with hospitals. If you're able to come I suggest taking off any smell of any medicinal of the sorts, as to not trigger him.

I also wish to know if you have any thoughts on how to help him, he'll be staying with me until he's safe enough to be relocated. It's clear he has suffered a tremendous amount of abuse, and as the one who first helped him, I wish to see his recovery to the full end. I'd rather we meet in person to discuss on what has happened to him before the attack, I'm a bit lost given I am not familiar with these types of…situations, but I still wish to help. Any advise or tips will be appreciated.

Please notify me on your response,

Water hashira, Sabito Urokodaki. "

He looks out the window to see his crow take flight, the letter fluttering in the wind but anchored to it's leg by a tie, he relaxes before he notices something.

"KANZABUROU! WRONG DIRECTION! IT'S TO YOUR RIGHT, DON'T GO TO THE LEFT!"