━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter 27 ━☂

❁ཻུ۪۪ ━ ❝ 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙

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A comfortable fire warmed at the tender flesh of (Y/n)'s body—their wounded hand now covered rigidly in bandages. Sitting on the ground—dried blood left behind—was (Y/n). Along with Sabito, of course, but he was more... distant now. Not that he preferred to be held at a length from his beloved. Of course not... but it was (Y/n)'s request. At least... a silent one.

The moon hung high as (Y/n) continued tending to his battered body. The crackle of the dried wood was seared by the roaring flames like a hushed lullaby as it whispered to the drained mind held in turmoil within (Y/n)'s mind.

All was silent... No one dared to speak. After (Y/n) managed to come to, Sabito could now worry about something other than (Y/n)'s life, but not a word was exchanged in (Y/n)'s end. Whatever (Y/n) may have experienced while passed out... It frightened Sabito. Their eyes—once so spirited and filled with valor... Now a hollow shell. (Y/n)'s once indulged skin was now tainted with mud and dried blood, and even some streaks left behind by dried-up tears. It seemed like (Y/n) needed a bath, but neither craved to acknowledge it. (Y/n) needed much more than just a bath to cleanse him of his revulsion.

Blankly staring at the quivering flames of the fire, (Y/n) stiffened the bandages around his hands as his fingers tenderly caressed over the tattered flesh of his scar. When he came to... his face was bleeding quite a bit. Although his flesh did heal swiftly thanks to the blood distribution to his head, (Y/n) would have wished to have remained knocked out rather than experience the anguish it was to look at his wound. Recoiling as he felt his nails dig into his cheek, (Y/n) snapped out of his stupor before letting out an unsteady breath.

Being a good person was so... challenging. You could think you're doing something right, but then the next moment it turns out that the vulnerability you showed had done much more harm than good. People had given up so much time and effort to make sure he became something more... Only for his body to up and fail him.

'Tsukiyomi... was right. What right do I have to try to bring myself some sense of compassion when there are thousands of others out there that don't have such comfort under the threat of the demons...? What right to humanity do I have if I have cheated in life, and still ended up a mess... What's wrong with me...?'

Gnawing down at his lower lip, (Y/n) placed a hand around his neck as he began to lightly stifle himself to coax down the sobs that clenched at his chest. (E/c) eyes smoldered with tears as he felt like he was just about to cry again—only for him to grab a miniature pocket knife as he dug the tip of the knife against his palm. Holding back a hiss in the abrupt agony, (Y/n) bit down at his tongue before his breath calmed and his body stilled.

(Y/n)'s impassive eyes stared peacefully down at the wound he inflicted upon himself—the crimson blood dripping down his battered skin as the stark contrast between his flesh and the liquid was... humbling, in a way. 'I... I must remind myself of my mortality... the coaxing of a god can only go so far as to make me a greater man—I must remind myself of who I am... and what I have to do...'

Placing the pocket knife back inside of his hidden pocket, (Y/n) kept silent for the remainder of the day as he went around the deteriorated village and coddled his shaky hands to the dead and somewhat rotting bodies of the past villagers... and buried them.

The demons did this to them... why give mercy to them if no mercy was given first?

Harsh rain gushed down the hazy skies upon the bloodied ground with (Y/n) mumbling a tender prayer to the last funeral he had finished. This was the... thirty-eighth? (Y/n) lost track after the fifteenth... The fifteenth was an infant. It was difficult to even remember how to count afterwards. Grimacing at the sight, (Y/n) yearned to bring solace to the wounded... to give mercy to those who knew none of it. However... as he stared at the countless burials distributed around the wrecked village... (Y/n) found it tedious to think.

Why?

Why?

Why?

(Y/n)... had to admit. It was so challenging to embody the teachings of his family when he had to constantly deal with... all of this? The question wasn't if he was strong enough to handle it, since it didn't matter either way. (Y/n) had to be strong enough... If not... there wouldn't even be enough time to answer that before (Y/n) passes.

Everyone was counting on him. People trusted in him. It wasn't time to think of oneself—such a thing was selfish. Draw out your sword and kill. Kill them all. End them. Cry to yourself later, but kill the enemy. Does it matter if they hold others dear? If they hold emotions beyond their race?

Kill them, (Y/n).

But... Oh... How it pained him thinking about it. Even as he witnessed all of this—even as he had to deal with being physically maimed and his soul sapped of energy... The inkling of hope lingered around in his very core as if it were a part of him. It was troublesome to be complex—it was difficult to be... something.

Sometimes... not even a god can make you better.

Sometimes... the only person you can rely on is yourself.

As his exhausted eyes bore into the image of the surrounding gravestones that he had engraved by hand, (Y/n) drew out his sword as he ignored his hair that stuck to his skin in an uncomfortable manner and instead focused on what mattered.

Making his way out of the village; Sabito followed behind him... although he still remained silent. This... this was a part of (Y/n) he had never seen before... and such a part of him Sabito knew not on how to soothe.

Letting out a nervous sigh, Sabito let his eyes settle onto the back of (Y/n)—his Kitsuné mask long discarded to his satchel. Walking behind him diligently... Sabito had no idea as to where they were going as it was in the opposite direction from their assigned mission that was given to them two hours prior by Crow. It was just becoming morning now... but the same frigid temperature still clung to the very clothes of the two as the rain didn't once let up.

Turning their head to the side, Sabito furrowed his brows as he looked back over towards (Y/n) before slowly opening his mouth—contemplating his next words with great care. "Hey... (Y/n)? Where... where are we going...?" Sabito questioned, his voice polite but meek. To his dismay, (Y/n) hadn't responded as he kept silent. This silence went on for another five minutes before a hoarse voice faintly responded back.

"Mount Natagumo... I need to... to prove myself..."

Two hours ago when (Y/n)'s crow went and dropped by to inform them of their next mission was when the idea for this began to blossom beautifully. However, before Sho could go off and show them the way did (Y/n) whisper to them a question—to which did Sho happily replied back with a very charming answer. Although Sho was now a tad vigilant around their friend, as he was acting rather... peculiar, Sho saw there was no reason to ever have unwillingness or resignation when it comes to interacting with their friend. Sho believed with all of his soul that his friend could do no wrong.

With this new piece of information, (Y/n) sent Sho off for a little day to himself as he told the crow he needn't give guidance—that he knew the path to his next mission well enough. That was a lie, and as each passing second went by (Y/n) felt like an utter fool to lie to his very own friend with such an unhealthy thing, but he had to do it... (Y/n) needed to show that he was stronger and more capable of thwarting a semi-high-ranking demon along with proving that he was much stronger than Tanjiro.

"Come on, Sabito—power waits for no one."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Morning diminished into nightfall as it was quite the expedition from the village to Mount Natagumo, but it was worth it in (Y/n)'s eyes. Although his feet ached and his stomach swirled and groaned from the lack of food, (Y/n) knew he had to grow accustomed to the lack of nutrients. If he is going to massacre each and every demon... Taking a time for a break is redundant. (Y/n) took numerous side quests, and when such a thing is said, it means that whenever (Y/n) sensed a demon, she would go out and capture it.

The tip of his blade dragged across the dirt floor as blood from the most recently slaughtered demon continued to evaporate and smoke away from the steel of his hardened blade and (Y/n) clothes. Their lengthy hair swung side-to-side like the elegant sway of a cloud of mist—the hair framing around his face caked in his own blood along with mud as (Y/n) continued making his way towards the front lines of the mountain's edge.

(Y/n) could see it... the fighting and each and every strike of a sword and claw. It was all a bit hazy as it was still far away... but the fact that (Y/n) could see it made him feel a sense of pride soften his body—only for that pride to change into sorrow once the image disappeared and now was clouded by a sense of the unknown. It seemed (Y/n) could only keep up such an action for so little time before he weakens...

'At least it worked for a little while...'

Turning his body to the side, (Y/n) gave Sabito a hesitant smile before making his way towards the ghost. At this, Sabito felt his eyes broadened as a certain sense of happiness washed over him... Was (Y/n)... better now? Did he wish for help now? Can he—

"Sabito... please, stay behind. It'll be far too dangerous for you... I wish to do this by myself. I know... you may not trust me, but please—let me show you what I am capable of... please..." Pleading to his friend, (Y/n) didn't know why he was saying all of this... maybe it was more to himself than to Sabito. How funny...

Shifting his fatigued eyes back up towards his friend, (Y/n) watched as Sabito kept his hands to the side as he tried his best to offer Sabito a sincere smile. "I'll be back in no time—just, please, stay here." Whispering this underneath his breath, (Y/n) turned back around as he shuddered to himself. He was so scared... but he had to do this. Whether or not he was strong enough—he was going to find out today.

Either (Y/n) survives this in glory... or dies in shame. It didn't matter.

Clouds formed a shadow over the mountain as the faint sounds of wails and sobs mirrored back towards (Y/n)... along with the ever-feeble tone of Tanjiro's voice.

'Tanjiro... At times I feel as if I am an inferior thing compared to you. An ugly feeling... I admit. I am an awful man... and I apologize, but I must be awful. If not... how will I overcome myself and surpass you? Surpass you... surpass everyone... and surpass myself?'

Running his roughened hands through their dirty hair, (Y/n) let out a shaky breath before he began to recite a prayer as he walked inside of the forest lines...

"Grand light... Mercy of life and death... Guide my blade by the righteousness of your will—for my hand shall be guided by your own to bring upon peace to those without it..."

"Mercy be upon me and my enemies."

𑁍┊𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 ˎˊ˗

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ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ!

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