She laid against a forest tree and beneath a cloudless morning sky, the sunrise casting bright light upon an ineffably beautiful canvas of blue and orange.

Lines of delicate purple wisteria flowers cascaded down branches of trees that towered above her, blanketing her trembling frame in a curtain of shade. As Y/N L/N's eyelids drooped closed, unable to be forced open anymore, she wondered if she would ever open them again.

Her head ached, and she grasped a lock of H/C hair with a bleeding hand to calm her nerves. A single tear droplet formed at the bottom of her eyelid, and slowly as ever, it trickled down her cheek and dampened a single blade of grass. The hand weakly returned to her side and tainted the side of her clothes a dark maroon.

Seeing the gore covering her only shirt, she bit back a wave of nausea, gulping down the metallic taste of blood. Her breath shallowed.

Please, she begged silently, doubling over in pain. Please, please. I don't want to do this anymore. Take me already.

She was weeping uncontrollably now, and when she coughed, blood seeped from the edges of her mouth. Two years of constant hunger, lack of sleep, and shelter — it could do a lot to a person.

From her stomach came a low grumble and it only made her shake even harder, wishing she would be fortunate enough to be discovered by someone who could give her help. Death would get to her soon and the inevitable truth would sink in completely: she wouldn't make it any longer.

She looked up sadly, moonlight illuminating the tear streaks upon a bruised, crestfallen face.

Is this how death feels like? she thought, feeling her sight go hazy and her arms weak.

But even if it was, she might not live to tell the story.

♱

Bloodcurdling screams of victims echoed in Shinobu Kocho's ears.

She was returning from a sanguinary battle against an oddly powerful demon with an even odder ability to manipulate hair. Almost the entire lakeside town was choked to death by the demon, and it proved to be quite a match for the two Hashira as they fought for the lives of the people who resided there. Rumor has it that the demon was even on her way to become one of the better Lower Ranks.

The unsheathing of a blade made her jump slightly, and her current mission companion, Mitsuri Kanroji, smiled at her surprise. She held her own specifically altered Nirichin Blade in her hands, the handguard inlaid with gold glinting in the light.

"You're really on edge, Shinobu," she said brightly — her usual demeanor. Cheerful, composed, and carefree. "You should calm down. The demon's dead, and we can report to the Master that we killed it."

Shinobu let a sigh escape her parched lips. "We weren't able to kill it as fast as we normally would, though. Demons are truly getting stronger, aren't they?"

Mitsuri's smile flickered, but only for a moment. "They are." Her green eyes, normally twinkling with love and vitality, showed the slightest hint of sadness this time.

"But we shouldn't worry!" she added, snapping out of her stupor. "Right? We'll get stronger too. It's only a matter of time before they're wiped off the face of the earth."

"Mitsuri, they've been alive for a thousand years, slowly but surely killing every era of brave Hashira and Demon Slayers. What makes you think this generation can do it, when no other generation could?"

Now the pink and green haired female was at a loss for words. They fell into silence, and each could only hear the shuffling of each other's shoes.

Suddenly, after a few moments of walking in quietude, Mitsuri frowned and urgently tapped Shinobu on the shoulder. "Shino... somebody's there. I hear it."

And indeed there was a noise, almost inaudible yet so distinct amidst the silence — the soft crinkling of leaves. Quietly, the two Hashira vigilantly made their way across the forest they were in, swords drawn.

But then Mitsuri lowered hers, clasping a delicate hand to her mouth in bewilderment. There was a figure slouched before them, but it wasn't moving an inch. "Look. In front of you."

Once the silhouette came into focus, Shinobu's eyes widened at the sight of a girl, slumped against a large oak. Her eyes were shut loosely, as if she was worried that if she shut them too hard, they wouldn't open. Her head drooped to one side, leaving a trail of blood on the tree trunk.

How odd, Shinobu mused. A young girl in this desolate forest? Certainly not a place for someone like her.

"Mitsuri, do you still have those glass vials I told you to bring?" she asked, turning to her friend.

The Love Hashira rummaged through the pockets of her Haori. "Right here."

"Who was she fighting?" Mitsuri questioned with uncertainty, watching Shinobu prick the unconscious girl's skin, drawing small beads of blood and putting them into the vials. "One of the Twelve Kizuki?"

The Insect Hashira carefully dropped a drop of white liquid into the blood flask, and the substance inside turned jet black.

"She's alive." Shinobu sighed, gently caressing the girl's cheek. "I thought she was dead. My, thank the stars."

"Who was she hurt by?" Mitsuri asked again. "Which demon?"

This time, Shinobu emptied out half of the black liquid and dropped a single, azure-colored pill into the vial. The substance inside turned completely transparent. Both of their eyes widened.

"Interesting." Shinobu muttered in disbelief, shaking her head and holding the vial up to the light.

Mitsuri was nearly jumping up and down now. "Who?!"

"Fate." the Butterfly Hashira announced at last, much to her companion's surprise. "She was fighting fate."

♱

𝕻𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝕿𝖜𝖔

It's an awful feeling,

Wanting to run but having no one to run with.

Being wounded but having no one to tend to your scars.

Wanting to laugh but having no one to do it with you.

Being alone.

And unfortunately enough, it's all I've ever known.

──────    𝖄𝖓/𝕷𝖓