Our first stop was at a Wisteria House. My memory isn't the best, but I recall—these are the places that will help out any Demon Slayers, without any cost.
It's why they listen to the requests of that man—Himejima Gyōmei—when he speaks to them. I don't pay any attention to it, of course. I'm too busy trying not to bolt when an older woman approaches me. She gives me a smile and tries to coax me out from behind Himejima's leg, but…
Hiss!
Yeah—that's new.
Just like a spicy kitten waiting to be socialized…
"Andou…she just wants to help." Gee, I wonder why no one thought to tell my brain that?
Th-Thump, th-thump!
Th-Thump, th-thump!
Holy fuck, my heart feels like it's going to explode—god, my anxiety cannot take a fucking chill pill. "Hhhh…"
I latched onto Himejima's leg and buried my face into his hakama, hoping it would be enough to ground me. I could feel the tears pricking the corners of my eyes, my heart refusing to calm down. Everything around me was falling apart—even the floor felt like it was suddenly going to collapse on me.
Gasp after gasp after gasp left my mouth. It was so hard to breathe, that my head started to feel lightheaded…
I think I passed out, because I don't recall ever changing into a lilac-colored yukata. It was soft, and comfortable—as was the futon I was resting on. I felt oddly refreshed, despite the meltdown I had…
Did someone bathe me?
That would explain the milky scent covering my skin.
Sniff, sniff.
Sniiiiff.
Huh…it's oddly comforting.
"Do you hate it?" Ah shit—Himejima's in the room! "Are you…mad?"
Hmm?
"I did not mean to put you under such duress." Oh, yeah…I did pass out from that, huh? "If you wish to never speak to me again…then that's fine. Just know that I did not have any ill intentions."
He looked so apologetic, almost hanging his head low in shame. He kept his distance, likely expecting me to avoid him at all costs. Though…
"Aahh!" I guess he still hasn't gotten a clue, from the way he jolted from my touch when I climbed onto his lap. He didn't know how to react, his hands just hovering over me. He paused for a moment, furrowing his brow in thought. Then…he reached down to ruffle my hair.
The warmth behind the action led me to lean into his touch. It was comfortable—it reminded me of home, when everything and everyone was still there. It reminded me of Kasuga…
I miss her—I really do. The tears won't stop once I start thinking about her. About her and everyone else in Fujisaki House.
Why did I survive?
Why me, out of everyone else?
It's hard not to cry. Hard not to push it all down… It was so much easier, back then—back when I was still an adult. But I don't think my brain can handle the weight of all these emotions so well. It's so easy for them to overflow, the same way these tears do with my eyes.
Smiling doesn't work—especially not when Himejima can see through my façade. It's funny, that the one person without sight can see so much more than anyone else…
And yet, the one thing he seems to ignore is how much I trust him. The way I refused to let go of his yukata when he tries lifting me off of his lap. Like a cat that has sunk its claws into a cushion.
He exhaled, likely frustrated and confused with my behavior. Though, he doesn't say anything else. The most he does is pat my head when the lady of the Wisteria House drops by to give us our meals.
He tries to coax me out with food, but I'm far too comfortable to budge…so I grabbed the bowl of rice from his hand and started eating from the comfort of his lap. It's spacious and safe…
More than that, I feel comfortable in my eating etiquette that I don't have to worry about making a mess. That still doesn't stop Himejima from scolding me lightly when he noticed how fast I was eating.
"There's more where that came from if you're still hungry." Quite a lot more—so really, there wasn't any reason why I should eat so fast.
Maybe it was just an oversight at Fujisaki House, since I always did my best to stay out of sight from other customers. I never wanted any of them to see me eat. And because of how much food I was given…I guess it never occurred to me with how fast I would often eat.
No one ever corrected me, either. Everyone left it as is—but not Himejima, who acted in a way that showed previous experience. As though I wasn't the first child that he had to correct.
More than that—more than that…this food…
"I believe that's tempura—have you had it before?" I wanted to say yes, that I have—but then I realized that that was a lie in this life.
Even though I was raised without ever once experiencing hunger, save for those times when I couldn't even bring myself to eat. Without ever knowing what it was like to want anything so trivial, despite the luxuries I was given… There are still so many things I've missed out on, because I was born in Fujisaki House.
Something as simple as tempura shouldn't trip me up so badly, but it just reminds me of how much I lost out, due to living such a sheltered life in Yoshiwara. I know too much, and yet, I also know too little.
All I know is what was within the gates of Yoshiwara, within that life I had in Fujisaki House. So safe and warm, though not always—because even under the glow of the red lanterns, there was always danger around.
How easy was it for a demon to take all that away from me…
Really, just what kind of life was I living?
The more I think about it, the more it hurts to realize that even though Fujisaki House has given me so much… Even with the friends I've made, and warm memories I have of that place…
It was still a terrible place to raise a child. With the customers that always looked at me, with thoughts of my mother on their minds. Or the close calls I've had…
Now that the rose-tinted glasses have come off, I can see everything for what it was. And it hurts so fucking much…
"Hey…it's okay—it's okay…" Himejima did his best to console me through the salty tears that dripped down my face.
I really wish I could believe him, but it's hard enough trying to come to terms with everything. I can't deny the happiness and warmth that I felt in Fujisaki House, but I also can't ignore the damage that has been done to my psyche. That night only pushed me even further, from what I could've recovered, had I just left like Minato…
Is she still Minato?
I wouldn't know, but it does give me some sort of comfort that there's someone out there, who still knows of life within Fujisaki House. Who also carries similar memories as me… The good, the bad, and those in between…
I'm glad she's not alone. Because whatever it is that I'm feeling—I'm certain that she's also going through the same thing. I can only hope that Amane stays with her, throughout it all.
As for me…I have a lot to unlearn, but I think I'll be okay, so long as Himejima is around. He might not be Kasuga, nor Tachibana, but the way he pats my head, trying his best to comfort me…
It reminds me of them. So where I failed with them and everyone else, I'll do my best not to lose him. This man who doesn't seem to understand why I feel safest around him, instead of the lady who genuinely tries to reach out to me.
The lady of Wisteria House meant well, though it's hard to break away from something that has since become a habit for me. She passed on the message to Himejima—saying something about my kimono?
I don't really understand, nor do I really think much about it in the passing days. In the calm of the Wisteria House, I'm left mostly alone, though I often hide behind Himejima, who still acts so alarmed, each time I grab onto his yukata. Each time, he looks as though he wants to say something…
But he never says anything.
Of course, neither do I, even when the lady of Wisteria House tries to get information out of me involving my favorite food, though… She gets a clue, based off my subtle reactions. It's rather involuntary, the way I perk up over certain suggestions. Though, I'm not too annoyed when I am given a plate of onigiri, with salmon and umeboshi fillings.
I take my time eating, if only to avoid Himejima's light scolding. It's nothing too serious, but I don't think my rejection sensitive dysphoria is willing to listen to reason. Beyond that, there's the fact that it served as a constant reminder to the things I have to unlearn, because of how I was raised in Fujisaki House.
It's not anything that I want to think too much about—not yet. Not when it makes my chest hurt as much as my head…
…
…
A doctor came by to examine me, though based on what I heard in the background, this isn't the first time he's looked me over. I'm doing a lot better than my first day—ignoring the fact that I still hiss at him, and everyone else who approaches me, save for Himejima.
The instant Himejima freed me from his hold, I bolted. So I wasn't able to hear the diagnosis, but…honestly, I don't think there's anything wrong with me.
That's a fucking lie.
Himejima had to fish me out of the farthest corner of a closet, hidden well behind quite a few lacquered boxes. Surprisingly, I got comfortable, so getting me out was a bit of a challenge…but he managed.
I could hear him exhale when I buried my face in his chest, his hand soon patting me on the back.
"We'll be leaving in a few days." I assume it has something to do with the return of his Kasugai crow. The way it remains perched on his shoulder, never once straying too far from his side.
Caw, caw!
I haven't heard it speak yet, which is disappointing, because I know it can talk. How else can it pass on messages? Actually…how the fuck does it get around in the first place? Isn't he…never mind.
I'll only give myself a headache if I linger too much on this. This world is strange enough as is. Even ignoring the unique hair and eye colors, you still have characters like Tanjirou, with his extremely keen sense of smell and oh fuck—I wish I hadn't thought about him.
He's not a character anymore!
I want to scream over the vivid memory I have of the first episode and chapter. It hits too close to home, that it practically makes me nauseous. I could only imagine the look of horror on Himejima's face when I jumped out of his arms and grabbed the nearest pillow, so as to scream into it. And by god, did I scream.
And I screamed again, when I had a nightmare that night.
Needless to say, the doctor came back to check on my throat. And whoops—there goes my ability to speak for the next week. It hurts too much to say anything, so I may have gone overboard…
Just a bit.
Thankfully, no one expects me to talk much. Not even the little girl that the lady of Wisteria House sends my way—I'm pretty sure that her daughter? Anyways, she does her best to reach out to me, and by that, I mean she sits next to me and continuously throws a temari up in the air and catches it.
She's not that much of a talker either, so this is as good as it's going to get…until she accidentally bonked me in the head with a misaimed throw of the temari. She laughed, so I bonked her right back with it—making her laugh even harder.
I think I've made a friend, throughout the mess we caused afterwards, just throwing around the temari. It's a pretty solid temari too—one that her mother made her recently for New Year's. Very pretty, and…
"You want to make one?" She doesn't give much time to respond, immediately running off to fetch her mother, who is more than happy to give me a crash course in making temari.
And that's how I spent most of my time, making temari with the mother-daughter duo, while Himejima had simple discussions with the lady's husband. Whatever it is that they're talking about, it sure looks interesting, based off the faces Himejima often makes while the lady's husband laughs.
During this time, I found out that the white kimono I was wearing was beyond repair. I really put it through a lot, while I was still at Fujisaki House. With how often I struggled to climb up the wisteria tree. The trials and errors that resulted in many bruises and tears in the white silk. The bloodstains that left an unsightly red tint…
I still have my other kimono, though…it still feels sad to see how easy it is to ruin something so pretty. Luckily, I can still salvage the undamaged silk, repurposing it for other uses. Maybe I can make a little bag for myself?
I use some of the scraps as the basis for the temari that I want to make. The past few I've made have been pretty simple and small, but I want to go a little further with this one. Pink and violet thread over white, like the colors of the bracelet I wore on my left wrist. It all comes together into a chrysanthemum pattern, both at the top and the bottom, with a ring of blue thread not unlike the color of the obi I once wore.
The size fit decently in my hand, and due to how tightly wrapped it was, it could actually bounce. Beyond that, it was really pretty… Not as pretty as the temari that the lady of Wisteria House made, nor the little bag she made me, but…still pretty on its own.
I felt elated over what I had made, going off to show it to Himejima. He couldn't exactly see the details, though that didn't stop him from feeling the texture of the chrysanthemum pattern—which I have to admit, is pretty nice. After all, I worked hard…and I'm glad he seems to like it.
"You certainly worked hard." The warmth I felt from his hand when he patted my head brought out a few tears.
Yeah…this is fine.
It still hurts.
But it's fine for now, even with the nightmares that still pop up and remind me of that night. Of that demon who killed everyone and ate Kasuga…
That same demon who intends to see you again.
As soon as the lady and her daughter had finished helping me into my wisteria-patterned kimono, I ran over to Himejima and latched onto his leg. I refused to let go, even when he tried pulling me off. He had his concerns, especially since we were leaving the Wisteria House today…
But I made my decision, and I was sticking with it, for however long it takes for this anxiety to die down in my chest. I can feel it trying to drag me down, with the rest of these unpleasant thoughts and memories that were suddenly flooding my head. I'm doing my best not to freak out, but the tears have since started flowing from my eyes.
There was a slight pause in Himejima's movements before he let out a quiet exhale in defeat. He spoke one last time with the lady and her husband, their conversation fading in the background as their daughter reached out to me. She said her goodbyes before running off to play with her temari, never once looking back as she did.
Knowing the life of those who managed a Wisteria House, she was likely used to the faces that often came and went. Whether or not she would see them again…whether or not she wanted to see them again…
Well, I doubt she ever thinks too much about it—unlike me, who can't stop thinking about everything as it happens. It's hard not to, when I know so little about the future, due to the choices I made in my past life. Just how much could have changed, had I just decided to keep reading Kimetsu no Yaiba?
Would it really have mattered?
It's hard to say, with how little I actually know.
I don't even know how fighting works in this world.
And it'll stay that way, unless I go down that path myself. Which…is what I want to do, if only to avoid being so helpless. Never again, do I want to be in that position. Where all I can do is watch, as a demon takes away everything from me, deciding only to let me live on a sheer whim.
Just the memory of him, calling me a little flower bud makes my skin crawl. The way he acted so amicable, despite the heinous things he'd done to those I've known and loved…
Never again.
I have so much to say, when we reach our destination. I have no idea where we're headed…but Himejima does. I'd ask, but my vocal cords wouldn't stop trying to strangle me. So I stopped…because it fucking hurts.
Ow.
I did my best to distract myself from the pain, taking in the sights we passed by. Honestly, it was overwhelming. The blue skies, the open space…it's a lot different from what I was used to, within the walls of Yoshiwara.
There were people working in the fields, barely paying us any attention—even when I climbed up Himejima's leg and back, in order to hide underneath his haori. It caught him by surprise, and though he tried to pull me off, he decided it wasn't worth the hassle when I kept a tight grip on the back of his blazer.
I suspected that he was waiting for me to tire myself out, though I'm a lot more stubborn than that. Even when he's offering me the onigiri that were packed for us, I kept my grip on his blazer as I ate. Of course, by the late afternoon, my arms were starting to give out and…
Thud!
Yeah, I fell flat on my face, causing Himejima quite a bit of distress. He brought a handkerchief to my face, fussing over the way that my nose wouldn't stop bleeding. Luckily, it wasn't anything serious—just a minor inconvenience that left me gagging on my own blood. Afterwards, Himejima carried me in his arms, having had enough of my shenanigans.
I was tired of my own shenanigans as well, so I just pressed my head against his chest and fell asleep. I didn't wake up until late in the evening, when clusters of stars lit up the night sky. Everything was so different without the glow of the red lanterns to light up the way.
It's so eerie without so many people walking by. So quiet, too, without the crowd gathered around to watch the oiran dōchū. There are no kamuro running about, in their colorful eye-catching kimono. No alleys to hide those who are willing to break the unspoken rules of the yūkaku…
The footpath that Himejima walked on was mostly empty, save for the few people that were huddled around a yatai that by the town that we were approaching. As we got closer and closer, the smell of food grew stronger. Before I knew it, my stomach started growling.
"Are you hungry?" Himejima asked almost at once. Obviously, he wasn't expecting an answer, though that didn't stop him from walking over to the yatai.
The yatai in particular was selling oden, which…I never had before. Not in this life, nor the one I left behind. As a result, I couldn't help but stare at the bowl I was given. It felt warm in my hands, staving off the slight chill from the evening breeze. There was something comforting about the smell…
Growl.
I wanted to eat, but the owner of the yatai wouldn't stop staring at me. He was likely waiting for my reaction, wanting to know what I thought of his food. The longer he stared, the less hungry I felt as I tried my best to ignore this intense urge I had to bolt.
Thankfully, Himejima took the attention off of myself by asking for a bowl for himself. It was just enough of an opening for me to start eating. Once I started, I couldn't stop.
I kept eating and eating and eating, much to the delight of the owner. Himejima had to scold me a few times to slow down, but the owner only encouraged me.
"Your daughter has quite the appetite!" He gave such a boisterous laugh as he served me another helping.
Daughter?
I turned to Himejima, who looked like he was about ready to cry. He tried saying something, but the owner interrupted him with another bowl of oden—free of charge for the proud father.
Oof.
The tears slid down his face as he ate his oden in silence, not knowing how else to react to the boisterous man. Certainly, I wasn't helping his case at all when I patted him on the arm. But hey—what can you do, when you can't talk?
Besides, free food is free food. Himejima should enjoy it while he can, considering how much he has to pay for my food costs. And geez, do I eat a lot…
By the end of the hour, I had reached my limit. My stomach was pleasantly full, and the heat of the broth had soothed away some of the pain in my throat. A yawn left my mouth, my eyes soon growing heavy with sleep. I did my best to remain awake, but…
Thud!
Yeah, better luck next time. I'll likely be feeling that when I wake up later.
Surprisingly enough, I don't—I'm too disoriented to make much of anything. From the futon I was laid in, to whatever conversation was going on around me, everything was a complete haze. I barely even registered the movement I was making as I stumbled my way over to the solid wall that was nearby. The warmth it gave off was comforting enough for me to press against it, my hands gripping tightly onto the green fabric that hung from it.
My consciousness began to slip away as my body grew lax. Laughter startled me awake, though it didn't last too long as I drifted off again.
What really woke me up was force at which I was lifted by the back of my kimono.
"You're going to catch a cold like this," spoke a boy with hair and eyes that were not unlike the colors of a flame. His smile was of a similar intensity, though instead of making me feel at ease, it set me off.
A hiss left my mouth almost at once as I started flailing my limbs in the air. I tried reaching out for the boy, but he had the sense to keep me at a distance. A look of confusion replaced the smile he had on his face. He blinked a few times, not really knowing how to react to my behavior.
After about a minute, it finally hit him. "Oops."
And then he dropped me.
Thud!
Today is going to be a great day—I can just feel it in my bones.
…
…
…
A/N Hello everyone, it's been a while, but we are back with updates AND WE ARE LITERALLY AT THE START OF SEASON 2 COME SUNDAY!
I am beyond excited, especially since I'm back on my bullshit again. More than that, we have reached the elusive chapter ten! Now let's try to aim for twenty, y'all!
We've come a long way, since I first started this fic, just weeks before my encounter with truck-kun almost isekai'd me. Will I ever stop joking about that?
Naaaaahhh. This is what I do to cope, so y'all are never gonna hear the end of it from me. Especially since I got traffic school to get through. Though, before that, I get my booster shot today for the vaccine and I have no doubt that I'll likely get my ass kicked around by the side effects.
Moving on, Andou has been going through a lot. Even with the happy memories she has of Fujisaki House, it still wasn't the best place for her. And honestly, I think that's what hurts more with her realization.
Pray for Himejima—he is slowly coming to terms with how clingy Andou can be. Give it more time, and he'll eventually realize that there is no escape. He is the Dad. The Dad is him.
Side note, the whole situation with the oden was a bit of a shout-out to some art of a male Okita Alter from Fate/Grand Order that I came across after I got told that, based on the picrew visuals I made of Andou's parents, her father looks like a male Okita Alter… And honestly? They weren't wrong. :V
Anyways, this is all I have for now. I really do hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think in a review, especially considering that little encounter Andou had with a certain good boy. :V
Feel free to spam my inbox on tumblr, we got AUs of this fic being bounced around and honestly? They kinda slap. Shout-out to the blursed AU that is demon Andou, which came to be after I brought up Sakamoto Ryouma from Fate/Grand Order, because he and Muzan share the Michael Jackson nickname. It ended up putting Andou as Oryou, should she ever become a demon, which somehow got validated with the release of Lancer Sakamoto Ryouma. You had to be there when it happened.
Until next time, y'all! Stay safe!