Chapter Text
PART ONE: The cage
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“Nee-san, you look amazing! When are we going?” Giyuu shouted excitedly as he stormed into the room, his eyes sparkling with admiration.
His older sister, Tsutako, turned to him with a soft giggle, adjusting the elegant kimono she wore for her wedding. “You seem more excited than I am, Giyuu. Are you sure you’re not the one getting married instead of me?”
“Nee-san!” he protested, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
She giggled again, reaching out to ruffle his hair as she always did when he got flustered. They continued chatting, sharing a few last moments of joy before she was to be wed. But suddenly, a faint sound echoed from outside—the shuffle of footsteps, barely audible.
Giyuu stiffened. “What was that, Nee-san?”
“Probably nothing,” she reassured him with a smile, though her hand instinctively reached for the wooden sword she kept in her room.
But the unease lingered, creeping into Giyuu’s heart like a whisper of something dark. Then, without warning, a deep growl rumbled through the night, accompanied by the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps.
His breath hitched.
The door slammed open with such force that it rattled on its hinges. A towering figure stood in the doorway, its hulking form silhouetted against the moonlight. The stench of rot and blood clung to the air, suffocating and heavy.
A demon.
Giyuu’s entire body is locked in place, fear seizing his limbs. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. The demon's glowing red eyes locked onto him, its grotesque mouth twisting into a grin as it lunged straight for him.
Giyuu squeezed his eyes shut, trembling, bracing for the inevitable. But then—
A scream.
His sister’s scream.
His eyes flew open in time to see Tsutako being thrown to the ground, her kimono stained crimson. The demon's claws tore into her flesh, and before Giyuu could even comprehend what was happening, the monster bit into her stomach.
“NO!” Giyuu shrieked, scrambling toward her, but his legs refused to move properly, buckling beneath him.
Tsutako coughed, blood spilling from her lips, but she still turned to him, her trembling hand reaching out. Her eyes, wide with pain yet filled with love, locked onto his.
“Giyuu…” Her voice was weak, but she forced a smile. “Your sister will always love you, no matter what you choose to do. Please… live for me.”
And then her eyes lost their light.
Her body stilled.
A blank, lifeless expression settled on her face as the demon continued devouring her.
Giyuu screamed, the sound raw, broken. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart as his body trembled violently. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave her behind.
But Tsutako’s words echoed in his mind.
"Live for me."
The sound of footsteps outside snapped him out of his daze. A familiar voice called out—cheerful, unaware. “Tsutako! It’s time to go—”
The door creaked open.
Her fiancé stepped inside, his eyes lighting up at first—until they landed on the horror before him.
He froze. “Wha—”
He never got to finish. The demon lunged at him in a flash. A sickening crunch filled the air as blood sprayed across the floor. His body crumpled, lifeless, his eyes frozen in shock.
Something inside Giyuu snapped.
His body moved before his mind could catch up. He turned and ran, bolting out of the house, his legs weak but desperate. He ran and ran, his throat burning as he screamed for help.
“Someone! Help!”
Villagers began emerging from their homes, their faces twisted with confusion and concern. Some were merely annoyed at being disturbed at such an hour. But when they saw Giyuu’s state—his clothes soaked in blood, his eyes wild with terror—their expressions shifted to worry.
“My—my sister—” Giyuu sobbed, struggling to form words. “She—she’s—”
The villagers murmured among themselves, but one of them, an elderly woman, stepped forward, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, child. What happened?”
“A demon,” he whispered. “A demon killed her…”
Silence.
The air seemed to freeze.
The villagers exchanged uneasy glances.
“A… demon?” one man finally said, his tone incredulous. “Boy, are you feeling alright?”
Giyuu shook his head violently. “I-I’m telling the truth! It was a demon! It killed my sister and her fiancé—!”
“Demons don’t exist,” another villager scoffed.
“He’s covered in blood,” someone whispered.
The strongest man among them, a broad-shouldered farmer, narrowed his eyes. “Boy,” he said sternly, stepping forward, “did you kill them?”
Giyuu recoiled as if struck. “No! No, I would never—!”
The murmurs grew louder.
“He must’ve lost his mind.”
“Poor boy…”
“What if he did do it?”
“No!” Giyuu screamed, tears spilling down his cheeks. “It wasn’t me! Please believe me!”
But their faces were already set in doubt.
One of the women, the same one who had tried to calm him earlier, now looked at him with thinly veiled disgust. “It’s your fault she died,” she said coldly. “You should’ve done something.”
Giyuu’s breath caught in his throat.
Each word stabbed into him like a dagger, deeper and deeper.
The villagers decided he was too young to be punished like a criminal. Instead, he would be sent away—to live with his only relatives, a wealthy couple who were psychologists. They would “fix” him.
Two days later, a large carriage arrived, drawn by two sleek, well-groomed horses. The villagers murmured in awe, their eyes tracing the elegant designs of the carriage’s frame and the fine silk robes of the couple who stepped out.
His aunt and uncle.
The woman—tall, slender, and regal—looked down at him as though he were something distasteful. His uncle, a well-dressed man with sharp eyes, merely assessed him, calculating.
“Is this the boy?” his aunt asked.
“Yes,” the village elder confirmed.
She crouched down to his level, her icy gaze boring into his soul. “Listen carefully, Giyuu. You are coming with us now. We will take care of you, but you must follow our rules. Do you understand?”
Giyuu nodded silently.
Satisfied, she straightened, and his uncle gestured for him to follow.
As he climbed into the carriage, he cast one last look at the village—the place where his sister had been murdered, where no one believed him.
Then, the wheels began to turn.
They traveled in silence for hours. The further they went, the heavier Giyuu’s chest became. He couldn’t live like this. Cold. Controlled. Unloved.
He had to escape.
Slowly, carefully, he inched toward the back of the carriage. His uncle was staring out the window. His aunt was adjusting her sleeves.
Now or never.
Heart pounding, he launched himself out of the carriage.
Pain exploded through his body as he crashed onto the dirt road, tumbling over himself. His ankle twisted painfully, but he forced himself up, ignoring the burning in his limbs.
“Giyuu!” His aunt’s shriek cut through the night. “Get back here now!”
But he didn’t stop. He ran.
Through the trees. Over the hills. Farther and farther until the voices faded.
Eventually, his legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the harsh ground.
"I have nothing left."
His sister was gone. His home was gone. The world had turned against him.
Maybe it would be easier to close his eyes. To stop fighting.
"But I promised."
He got up with difficulty his lungs were hurting his legs were hurting. He glenched the fabric over his heart and kept walking. The sun started setting, casting long shadows through the trees. The golden light bled into deep orange, then crimson, before fading into the creeping darkness of night.
The forest grew colder. The warmth of the day vanished with the sun, replaced by a biting chill that seeped through his torn clothes. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, but he kept walking.
Then came the sounds.
Distant rustling in the underbrush. Twigs snapping under unseen footsteps. The wind whispering through the branches like voices just out of reach. His heart pounded, his breath uneven. He was a child—alone, exhausted, and afraid.
A hoot echoed above him. He flinched, stumbling back. His tired mind twisted every noise into a threat, every shadow into something waiting to devour him. But he couldn't stop. He couldn't let fear win.
"I promised," he reminded himself again, forcing one foot in front of the other. His body protested, but he clenched his fist over his heart and pushed forward.
The deeper he went, the more the forest swallowed him. The world behind him had already turned against him—there was nothing left but the path ahead.
After what felt to him like an eternity of walking he saw an estate deep hidden into the forest. a large wooden structure with tiled roofs and sliding paper doors. The architecture is intricate yet simple, with wooden beams supporting the roof, and the walls made of wood and plaster. It was a scary building it looked abandoned.
Giyuu stood at the edge of the clearing, his breath shallow and uneven. His body ached, his limbs were trembling, but he could not take his eyes off the eerie structure before him. The estate loomed in the moonlight, its dark wooden frame blending with the night. The paper doors, though intact, looked as though they hadn't been touched in years. The air around it felt… heavy.
It was silent. Too silent.
Giyuu’s heart pounded in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was from exhaustion or fear anymore. His fingers dug into the fabric of his bloodstained yukata, holding onto it as if it could ground him, as if it could keep him from falling apart.
He swallowed hard. He had nowhere else to go.
His feet moved forward before his mind could protest. The ground was damp beneath his bare feet, the cold seeping into his skin with each shaky step. As he reached the wooden steps of the estate, the worn planks creaked under his weight. The sound echoed in the emptiness, making his skin crawl.
He hesitated.
What if someone was inside? What if they chased him away? What if—what if it was another demon?
His breathing hitched at the thought, his fingers twitching at his sides. He couldn't face another monster. Not again. Not after Tsutako.
But if he stayed out here, the cold would claim him before morning. His body was already weak, and he was so, so tired.
He took a breath. Shaky. Shallow. Then, gathering what little strength he had left, he slid open the door.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
The air inside was thick with dust, the scent of wood and time pressing against his senses. The moonlight barely reached into the room, casting faint silvery beams onto the wooden floor. His breath was loud in his ears. Every little creak of the house made his muscles tense.
Cautiously, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
The silence felt deafening.
His legs nearly gave out beneath him. His body screamed for rest, but his mind refused to let go. He slid down against the nearest wall, pulling his knees to his chest. The worn wood was cool against his back, grounding him in the present. But his thoughts wouldn’t stop.
Tsutako’s voice. Her laughter. Her blood.
The way her eyes had locked onto his in those final moments, filled with love even as her life slipped away.
His throat tightened. His chest ached so much it felt like something inside him had cracked, something that could never be put back together.
And the villagers. Their cold eyes. Their cruel words.
"It’s your fault she died."
Giyuu sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he clutched his arms tighter around himself.
"I didn't do anything wrong."
Then why did it feel like he had?
Why did their words dig into him like barbed wire, wrapping around his heart and pulling tighter and tighter?
Why did it feel like maybe—just maybe—they were right?
A shudder ran through him. He felt small. So, so small.
Tears welled up in his eyes, but he forced them back. If he let them fall, he might never stop. And he couldn't let himself break. Not here. Not now.
He sniffled quietly, curling in on himself.
The house groaned in the wind, the wooden beams shifting slightly. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted. The sound felt oddly distant, like the world was slipping away.
Giyuu closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
Just long enough to forget.
The stillness of the room was suddenly broken by the sharp creak of the door. Giyuu jolted upright, heart slamming against his ribcage. He had thought, for a fleeting moment, that he might be alone. But the feeling of being watched was inescapable. His senses tingled with dread, and his head snapped to the door.
Two figures stood in the doorway.