Chapter Text
the snow began to fall in earnest just as giyuu’s mission came to an end. it fell calm and quietly, a soft and steady descent that blurred the edges of the world without so much as an announcement of itself. flakes gathered in his hair and along his shoulders, melting briefly before freezing again amidst the cold air, leaving behind a faint, persistent damp that crept inward. the forest hushed beneath it, branches bent low under the winter white with fatigue, the sky a dull, unbroken grey that pressed down on the mountain like fog. the wind whistled past his ears, slipping through the trees in measured, sharp breaths.
the demon hadn’t thrashed nor screamed as it died, only broke apart into dusky ash slowly beneath giyuu’s feet, eyes wide and glaring as if it’d have a scowl on its face, had it still been there. the contrast between it and the snow was stark, almost ugly, blackened ash against the pure white, bleeding into the cold ground. he stood and watched until the wretched being had faded entirely into the mist of the winter air. only then did he move.
the motion was slower than he’d anticipated it to be, not enough to alarm him, but enough that he noticed the faint delay between his thought and his action, the way his body hesitated as if beneath the skin it needed to be reminded to obey. he turned away from the clearing, boots sinking slightly into the fresh snow, and reached for the familiar, grounding comfort of routine.
his katana felt wrong in his hands.
the nichirin metal was too cold, leaching heat instantly from skin already struggling to keep it. his fingers curled swiftly around the hilt as he guided the blade back into its sheath properly, careful not to fumble. the sensation in his hands was becoming less reliable, numbing, dulled and distant. giyuu recognised the way it quieted down beneath his muscle, it’d happened many times before.
he flexed his fingers once, noting mentally as they moved a second later than expected. he told himself it’d pass, that he just needed to get back to the estate, to make his report, and it was over, lest there be no other slayers requiring his assistance against a stronger demon. his mission had been unremarkable, with no real threat to someone of his calibre. the master had sent him and him alone, and he’d accepted without hesitation. he always did. solitude was not unfamiliar to him, it was simply how things had always worked in his path.
the fight lingered in his body even now though, exhaustion settling deep into muscle and bone. the demon had been quick, forcing him to move constantly through snow that swallowed his legs and pulled more heat than he could regain from him with every step. the cold had made it easier for him to judge where the demon was at first, sharpening his senses beyond their typical strength, narrowing his focus until there was only breath and motion and steel. but by the end, itd settled into his core like a snake constricting at his spine, holding him in the frozen lake of winters skin.
as he began his descent, the path sloping downwards through the trees, his knees buckled. it was slight, barely more than a faint hitch in his step, but it sent a rippling effect of unease shooting through him. his balance felt uncertain, as though the the ground had shifted without telling him. he corrected himself immediately, posture straightening out of habit, shoulders pulling back as if discipline alone could stabilise him.
the sound of his boots against snow followed him faintly, muffled and distant like it belonged to someone walking just behind him. the mountainous forest seemed to swallow the noise whole. his shoulders felt heavy, his limbs slower than they had been an hour ago. his breath scraped harshly at his throat, shallow and quick, fog blooming thinly before his face.
the cold pressed closer now, or perhaps it always had, waiting patient for him to stop ignoring it.
giyuu kept his eyes fixed on the narrow trail ahead, the dark line cut through white by older footprints. he had walked this mountain before, many times, in different winters, under different skies. he told himself that movement would bring warmth, that if he kept going and endured, his body would remember what to do.
it had failed him once before, the memory slipped in without warning, carried on the same cold that crept beneath his skin now.
thirteen years old, knees buried in the snow, body battered in the winters accumulating frost, shaking so badly that he couldn’t speak. the way the pain had faded under the numbing cold, not gradually but all at once, leaving behind a dangerous calm that made the world feel distant and slow. leaning into the darkness of sleep without meaning to, thinking, briefly, that it was peaceful. waking days later wrapped in blankets that burned against his skin, nerves screaming as sensation returned too quickly. voices that told him he was lucky, telling him to be more careful.
no one had explained then that the cold would stay, that it would settle into him, making his body slower to warm and quicker to fail, that his nerves would misfire, pain arriving late or sometimes not at all, warning signs dulled beyond usefulness. he had learned those truth himself, through the repetition of its occurrence.
giyuu pushed the memory aside, jaw clenching.
his pace slowed only slightly, each step requiring more effort than the last, his legs heavy, and his joints stiff. the snow seemed deeper now, clinging to his boots, resisting his movement. time stretched strangely, moments losing their edges, blurring together. swallowing felt difficult, his throat tight and dry.
snow gathered along the hem of his haori, melting and freezing against into slim frosted icicles as it clung. he brushed it away with numb fingers, the motion automatic, unregistered by his conscious thought. the fabric felt stiffened, soaked through in places, cold seeping into his skin without resistance. he wondered, distantly, how long it’d been damp now, and how much heat it’d already stolen from him.
the trees thinned ahead, opening into a wide clearing where the wind moved more freely. it rushed in to meet him, sharp and cutting, slicing through layers that no longer did their job of maintaining warmth. the cold bit at his face, his ears, his neck, finding every place left exposed. his breath hitched painfully, then thinned again, as though his lungs could no longer pull in enough air.
the edges of his vision darkened.
giyuu stopped.
the snow beneath his boots was clinging to his soles, slick with ice. he stared down at it, grounding himself just to breathe, waiting for the dizziness to pass. it usually did. he counted his breathes without realising he had started; ‘one, two, three..’ each one felt smaller than the last, less satisfying.
‘you should keep moving,’ he told himself, but his legs didn’t respond right away.
there was a weight in his chest now, heavy and insistent, pressing inward with each breath. his heartbeat felt slow and loud all at once, each pulse echoing strangely through his body. sensation crept back into his fingers in uneven bursts, tingling sharply before fading again, damaged nerves waking briefly in the frost before surrendering once more.
the recognition settled into his head quietly, ‘this is dangerous.’
the thought carried no panic, panic required energy, and energy was something he’d learned to conserve.
‘it’ll ease,’ he told himself, because it always had before, because he had endured it once at thirteen and lived, because survival has been taken as proof that he could do it again. endurance was expected of him, and he had never learned how to refuse it.
he forced his foot forward. the movement was clumsy, delayed, his boot scraping against the snow instead of lifting cleanly. irritation flickered briefly, dull and tired. he adjusted his stance again, shoulders stiffening as though holding his posture would keep him upright.
the wind lifted loose snow into the air, stinging his cheeks and lashes. it clung to his hair, to his nose. he blinked slowly, eyes burning, then dulling. his hands had stopped hurting entirely.
that should’ve frightened him more than it did.
his descent grew slower, each step deliberate and measured as he tried to stay upright. his thoughts thickened, moving as though through water. he anchored himself to small details to keep him steady; the sound of his breath, the faint outline of the trail, the dark shapes of the trees standing motionless around him.
a fleeting thought crossed his mind, that someone might notice how long he was taking.
it slipped away just as quickly. the demon was dead, the mission was complete. that was what mattered.
the shivering worsened, sharp bursts running through his body without warning. his muscles jerked and clenched, fighting for warmth that would not come. he clenched his jaw again, teeth clattering despite the effort to still them. his body had never been good at holding heat after that winter long ago. it lost warmth quickly, quietly, and often without telling him until it was too late.
the clearing widened ahead of him, snow stretching untouched and painfully bright beneath the pale sky. light reflected harshly off its surface, forcing him to lower his gaze. he focused on the darker track of the path, willing it to stay steady beneath his feet.
his foot caught on something buried beneath the snow.
he lurched forward, arms flinging out on instinct. the world tilted violently, then righted itself. he stayed upright, but the effort left him breathless, chest tight as he struggled to draw in air. dark spots bloomed across his vision. he closed his eyes until they faded.
‘stay upright,’ he told himself.
he straightened slowly, his legs trembling beneath him, knees threatening to give way. the shaking had grown worse now, violent and uneven. he wrapped his arms around himself without thinking, palms pressing uselessly against his sides through layers that no longer insulated.
the cold felt closer again, not something lingering just outside his skin, but something that’d worked itself beneath it, into muscle and bone, settling there with quiet persistence. it ached, not sharply, but deeply, a heavy soreness that made movement feel pointless.
he took another step, then another. the slope pulled at him, gravity working against his failing balance. his centre shifted forward without warning.
this time, he could not recover.
his knee struck the ground, the impact dull and far away, almost as though he hadn’t fallen at all. snow soaked through his uniform instantly, cold seeping in where fabric met skin. he barely felt it. his hands followed, pressing into the snow as he caught himself. he stayed there, head bowed, breath loud in his ears.
his arms shook as he tried to push himself upright. they buckled immediately, strength draining away as though it had never been there. frustration flickered briefly, muted and tired. his body had obeyed him for so long, even when it should not have.
he tried again. failed.
the weight in his chest deepened, each breath feeling heavier than the last, the air resisting the entry to his lungs. his vision narrower, the world turning white at its edges. he shifted his weight back, settling onto his heels. the position felt easier, his body relieved to stop fighting gravity. his hands fell to his sides, and his fingers curled stiffly inwards. the shivering slowed.
unease stirred faintly at that.
his heartbeat faltered, uneven and sluggish. a false warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading outward, dulling the ache in his limbs and softening the cold until it no longer hurt. the sensation felt wrong.
familiar.
thirteen years old again, sinking into the snow, the world growing quiet as the peacefulness of the weighted pain left his body, silencing the screaming in his muscles.
‘no,’ he thought weakly, desperate to move further, to keep going. to get up, to do something, anything. to keep dragging on in the snow, to return and do his duty.
he tried to stand once more, but the effort barely reached his legs. his body swayed, then settled back into the snow as thought it’d found its place. his eyelids felt unbearably heavy, blinking took effort. when he opened his eyes, the light smeared and shifted. he fixed his gaze on the continuous line of trees ahead, willing them to stay there, to not wobble out of his vision as it blurred.
the wind brushed against his face, strangely gentle now, snowflakes settled on his lashes, dripping slightly onto his skin. he watched them fall, mind fogged as the cold crept further into his bones.
his thoughts drifted— water instead of snow, hands wrapped too tight in cloth, pain returning too fast, nerves screaming, voices reminding him he was lucky to live, that he shouldn’t have.
he had believed them.
his breathing slowed, shallow and faint, each breath feeling less necessary than the last. the cold no longer burned, only existed, a weight that held him still.
giyuu’s head tipped forward, chin resting against his chest. his shoulders sagged, posture folding inward. snow compressed beneath him, cooling where the last of his warmth met the ground.
it would be easy to rest, just for a moment.
the thought lingered, gentle and persuasive. rest promised some quiet, rest promised relief. his eyes closed.
for a brief instant, they opened again, unfocused, as if he had something else to look out for, gazing across the clearing without truly finding whatever it was he looked for.
then his eyes closed once more, and this time, stayed shut. his body tipped sideways, slow and unbalanced, and sank into the snow without sound.