Companion piece to Wilting Petals.
Path of Thorns
The memories haunted him like the moon's glow over the midnight sky. They flashed through his mind constantly, reminding him of his traitorous deeds. Even if it wasn't entirely his fault, he could still remember what it felt like to take another person's life.
He could clearly recall the dark crimson blood that splashed across the grass, the gasps of pain that came from his victims' throats as they released a final breath, and the way his father's eyes widened in disbelief upon the fatal stab to his throat. And then his sister's tears as she cried over their family and comrades' deaths.
Sango had told him countless times that he was not to blame. Naraku had possessed him, causing him to act against his will like a puppet and complete the demon's every wish. It was Naraku who murdered their friends that fateful night at the castle, not the young boy who barely managed to survive.
But still, in his heart, Kohaku had yet to accept it. Naraku had made him forget the incident, respecting the boy's own wish, simply because it hurt too much to bear. His heart would clench in his chest as he thought about all the lives he had taken. Not just of the demon slayers, but of innocent villagers that had gotten in Naraku's way.
Kohaku had been given a second chance at life thanks to Kikyo's kind heart. And it was with this life he was plagued by the blood on his very hands. Could he ever forgive himself? He wasn't sure. But he refused to ask for others' forgiveness.
No, Kohaku had to walk this path alone. These were his burdens, his mistakes, and the weight on his shoulders he had to carry. This path of thorns was his, and no one would be able to help.
The wind rippled through his hair as he flew over a village upon Kirara's back, telling himself not to look back. If he did, all the distance he put between him and his sister would have been for nothing.
He knew Sango missed him dearly, that was for certain. But he couldn't bear to see the pity in her eyes, or hear the sorrow in her voice. He wouldn't be able to stand the forlorn glances she threw his way when she thought he wasn't looking, and the hushed words behind his back. He couldn't face her. Not until he was able to forgive himself for his horrible deeds. It would take some time. However, he would continue to grant her reassurances with flowers from their childhood. It was all he could give for now.
"Come on, Kirara," he mumbled into the cat demon's ear. "Let's go home."
His faithful companion quickened her pace with a soft growl and headed toward the sunrise in the direction of the abandoned demon slayer village. Since Kohaku had parted with his sister, he had made it his home. After all, with new townsfolk to protect and a baby on the way, she had no time to visit the graves of their fallen brethren. So he had taken it upon himself to lay flowers near their final resting place.
As the tall, broken fence came into view, he felt a familiar tug on his heart. He would forever walk a path of thorns when it came to his past. But maybe someday, he could look forward to a future in which the flowers bloomed.