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prologue


It was much like a dream, fantastical imaginings that my feeble, human mind had conjured. Or rather, visions beyond the scope of my capabilities.

Because painted above was a beauty without equal.

And as a moth to the flame, I was drawn to it. Its essence, one so familiar, seemed strange; distorted, incomplete. As though it were the dying embers of a great fire.

I muddled through the motley waters that immersed my being; its varying elements of flame, of wind, of earth, and of thunder amalgamating its constitution. I wadded through the, as mightily as I could, but my power was not enough to overcome its depths.

Still, I persevered.

And I was rewarded for my efforts, a hallowed hand outstretched, beckoning that I approach. I reached into my being, drawing out a power so majestic, so wondrous, that many had named it a blessing.

Indeed, it was.

For my mother had prayed, begging the heavens to grant upon me a body to persevere. Such is strength borne of a mother's love.

"This is life, as you now live it, and have lived it, you will live it once more and innumerable times more."

As I struggled to reach for the hand, I retracted it. Before my eyes, the pure, unblemished hand, decayed, its flesh falling off as dust and revealing a terrifying skeletal underneath and a sickening visage; my hope waned.

A hope of a dream, a wish conjured by this ageless realm. A wish of one and more.

It was a simple hope; a desire to live.

But what is a man who lives countless lifetimes and some?

Immortality is not which I seek. No. Many years ago, I sought to end the life of such a being. One that claimed itself a god and wrought fear to the realm of Man.

Yet it was that terror which drove Man to rally, to adapt, before this false god, and its creatures of the night. I had joined the rally, fought alongside those men and women who desired to live in a world free of plight. And I had found my purpose, my reason for living.

I failed, again.

Within the depths of the raging waters, my body shook, its nature beckoning that I despair, that I grieve and agonise over such a life. One of constant misery, of death, and of rebirth. Of death and rebirth, of deathandrebirth.

I urged my throat to cry, begging to release a strew of curses despite having not uttered a single word in so long. I felt the desire to call the being a demon, monster, or evil. Because it offered that which I sought, but for a price.

Such a life is unbecoming of a human.

I had long since lost that, too. But even as I faltered, stumbled, I refrained from those dark desires.

Instead, I remembered the words that warmed my heart as my mother uttered them to me. It was those words that she, though stricken with disease, had repeated as she agonised over the lives her beloved sons would live. Those words of a prayer that remained in her heart.

I felt, with that epiphany, my voice return after so long. And I uttered those triumphant words imparted to me.

"You are god, and never have I heard anything more divine."

Raging waters stilled as the ephemeral being tapped across with an unmatched elegance, reaching a hand to my crown as the indescribable weight that had dragged me down dispersed.

"Thus, you must persevere, child."


Sumi no Kagutsuchi


Watanabe Hiroshi was having an especially wonderful day.

Earlier, his friends had invited him to an event prepared to celebrate. Even his boss, a stubborn old man with the bushiest of eyebrows, had granted him a number of days without field labour, a proud expression as he did so.

Because in the coming days, he was getting married.

His step was light, bouncing, as he walked across the fertile lands of his home. To the side and the broader expanse of the outer parts of the village, were beautiful and bountiful tea farms and rice paddies. Their make was so reputable in the province, that those who lived in the capital came by as often as they could, turning this small village into something of a tourist attraction.

With times being especially difficult, many still recovering from the events of the World War, it was a breath of fresh air to see people laughing so joyously as they hung up decorations over their homes and stalls in preparation for the coming festival. Even then, many of the townsfolk claimed it to be for their matrimonial service.

It was a cause for celebration either way, and his people ne'er shied away from one.

The ever-present celestial body that brightened many of their days was dipping just beyond the horizon. With its return to rest and the rising of its counterpart, it bid farewell by blossoming a montage of crimson, gold and whites to the darkening skies above.

It forced Hiroshi to halt his trek in reverie.

For as long as he could remember, it was a joy to witness the sunset, especially alongside his beloved, Kozue. That, even at this moment, he envisioned her basking in its glory, covering her with a halo belonging to a priestess of the highest orders.

However, the sun finally dipped, and Hiroshi returned to his trek with a comfortable smile dancing upon his lips.

Although he and his friends were well over sixteen summers, they had a secret location which they would often use to indulge themselves. Chōgorō decided that they meet there tonight, even though their village had a strict policy of not leaving the borders after sundown.

So, whistling as he passed a pair of elderly men – visitors – he ducked into the thick forestry beside the path. Hiding behind the shrubbery for a few moments, glancing to see if he had been followed again, Hiroshi found himself to be in the clear.

He grinned excitedly.

Following the usual path, Hiroshi quickened his pace to a jog, the wind whipping back his dark locks as he did so. He cackled with boyish, uncontained glee as he spotted a familiar figure up ahead.

He whipped past the figure, who sputtered curses of indignation, but soon caught up to him, smacking the backside of his head.

"Yo, Hiro!" The boy grinned at his grimace. "You aren't being tailed again, are you?"

Hiroshi laughed as he shook his head. "My parents haven't given up on me just yet, Yuki!"

Masayuki laughed at his friends words. While they were something of problem children, their parents hadn't given up on them. Rather, they merely distrusted their every action, especially since Hiroshi's parents were so overprotective of him.

Seeing that they were approaching their destination, Masayuki slowed to a light jog. While he could easily chase after Hiroshi, it wouldn't do well for the bottles inside the sack hanging over his shoulder – he had sworn to never make that mistake again.

The forestry widened the closer Hiroshi approached, and soon, he found himself basking in the myriads of light reflected off the crystalline lake below. True to the night sky, it glistened beneath the new moon and its corollary of stars. The waters were tranquil, their brilliance commanding a sense of peace from within Hiroshi's being.

It was strange to him, that, whenever he was near a body of water, he felt at peace. Even that one time, that his family headed south, the ocean had beckoned him to come forth. He placed a hand on the tree beside him and heaved a long, calming sigh.

He had been panting from the sudden rush of adrenaline, and it was exhilarating.

He surveyed the area, the small cliff he stood upon offering him a clear vantage of its entirety. The crystalline body was surrounded by tall, elder trees and an assortment of beautiful flora. As inhabitants of a farming attraction, they had planted what seemed to be a garden – a sanctuary to be cared for.

In fact, many of his first experiences had occurred here.

His very first attempt at swimming. His first time tasting the bitterness of sake alongside his best friends. Even his first tryst with his beloved had occurred here – a sudden blush creeping onto his cheeks as he recalled how they had been found out.

But as an eerie silence settled around him, it would birth another of his first experiences.

"H-Hiro!"

It was Masayuki. And Hiroshi had never known him to stutter.

He was enveloped with worry, trepidation sending a chill up his spine as he whipped around to face his friend. And he found him, frozen, yet staring at him with a fear stricken visage. But it was his shaking hand that alerted him of his truest terror.

And he heard something drip.

Hiroshi's breath hitched as he continued to study his friend's disposition, and began to panic, fearing what he might discover if he looked upwards. So, he reached out to Masayuki, shakily stepping towards his friend, but the ground squelched.

And he heard another drop, then looked to the forest floor in wonder.

He stood within a pool of crimson.

Hiroshi shrieked in terror, his dilated eyes tracing his bloodstained hakama. He felt something move beneath his feet and shivered, his instinct beckoning him to flee from where he stood. So, he ran, stumbling pitifully, and crawled away from the pool of fresh blood.

His panicked, searching eyes scattered about until he found it, the source of it all.

Oh, how he wished he did not.

Chōgorō, his gentle, bespectacled friend, hung from the branch of a tree. His battered, bloody and broken body bound by his entrails that excreted his lifeline and other substances, testing his sanity.

He retched.

Masayuki – or was it him? – fell to his knees, bones rattling from the nerve-grating wail of terror. His body was unmoving and his mind stricken with horror at the sight.

Broken. Battered. Slaughtered.

His screams of terror renewed.

And then, a soft voice spoke.

"Aww, you poor things."

Their eyes widened as a beautiful, petite woman suddenly walked into the vicinity, her mouth bloodied and her vulpine, crimson eyes glowing with malice within the darkness .

Hiroshi's breath hitched as he studied the woman, shivering as her head tilted to the side, her messily made buns falling apart and cascading her obsidian hair. Her grin widened, exposing her bloodied fangs that glinted beneath the moonlight.

"Is something the matter, dear children?" She cooed, her tone curious. "It is rude to walk in on a lady, you know?"

The woman chuckled, her melodious voice rattling their bones.

"And to think that more of you youngin's would be coming. Ah! Such a travesty, a delight!" She purred, wiping Chōgorō's blood off her cheek. "But fret not, dear children. Mama Ubume will take proper care of you."

Masayuki ran, his broken screams echoing as he made a rushed escape. He had always acted as the bravest, the more athletic of his friends, but as he fled, it sealed their fate.

He ran; much faster than he ever tried to in his life, his body gaining the necessary strength to flee from the demon.

Hiroshi resigned himself to fate, his shaking body unable to move even a muscle. He was not bold nor was he brave or strong in body. Even as instinct told him to, he knew that he could not.

Not alone, not anymore.

Ever since he was a child, every venture had been alongside someone he trusted. His friends, family, beloved. Never alone.

He was powerless alone.

Unlike the ocean that served as his namesake, he was not bountiful. He knew little, owned less, but he tried to be as expansive as the sea itself. It was why he was so beloved, why the people of his village believed him to become chief after his father retires.

Because they loved him, and he loved them.

Yet he was going to die alone.

Ubume walked past him, chuckling in her amusement, and threw a limb into his lap. His breath stopped.

"Foolish boy." She muttered. "Does he not know that his mother will punish him for his disobedience?"

She kicked off the ground, shattering it, as she vanished from the forest.


Sumi no Kagutsuchi


Thiscantberealthiscantberealthiscantberealthiscantbereal!

Masayuki stumbled over a log, one he had forgotten to be in the path in his haste, and his body rolled onto the ground. He grunted as his back crashed into the base of a tree, causing him to cough out spittle and blood as he struggled to his feet.

Even as his body was wracked with pain, his arm broken from the landing, he gritted his teeth in his agony and still moved forward. He couldn't turn back, not now.

Not when a demon was after him.

Not when a demon was going to devour his other friend, too.

Tears pricked at the edge of his vision. He never believed the tales that his mother often entertained, but he listened because he loved to hear her stories. Yet those tales of demons that prowled the night only drove him to seek the outside.

It brought out an innate desire to be one with the winds, to live.

But it was a desire that forced him to abandon his friend.

He struggled through the foliage, his single, working arm facing a difficulty he had never experienced before. Soon, though, he tore through the shrubbery and found a figure standing near their usual entrance facing away, and hope blossomed in his heart.

Maybe, just maybe, if he found others, they would be able to drive off the monster and save Hiroshi.

But his hope was shattered when the figure turned to him, still dressed in a bloodied, olive-coloured kimono with umber accents.

Ubume grinned before grabbing the boy by his throat and disappearing into the forest.


Sumi no Kagutsuchi


Shirakawa-chō was as small a village as one could be, but due to its produce, it had a bustling business and a flare for tourism.

And it had become a hotspot for demon activity.

I followed the scent, one of a demon, and the other of a boy. I saw its tracks, depicting a vicious and uncaring creature. An aged demon, and a powerful one at that.

The scent grew stronger and I quickened my pace, praying to arrive before another life was lost. But as a scream echoed, I breathed evenly and ran.

Moments later, I saw it; the demon ready to devour the young, dark-haired man.

So, I acted.


Sumi no Kagutsuchi


Yuki is going to die.

His friend, the one who always stuck out his neck for them and protected them, was going to die. And there was nothing he could do about it except witness his friend's fate.

But, he was saved.

He blinked, his eyes tracing an ephemeral flame that tore into the demon's arm, causing it to wail. Then, the figure appeared next to him, settling Masayuki onto the ground.

Ubume screeched, falling to the ground as she backed from the swordsman who stood before the two she meant to devour. She tried to heal her arm to no avail, and her instinct to her to flee.

Gritting her teeth, she focused onto her stump and smeared the blood from the ground to begun her regeneration, but the wound remained the same; cut and cauterised in the same moment.

Hiroshi's eyes were now vivid with awe.

"A Demon Slayer!?"

Ubume shifted once more, her gaze focusing onto the swordsman. Strangely, he was familiar to her, yet she had never met this man before.

Her heart raced as she studied those dark locks that were hinted with crimson. As she watched him – stared at him – she realised that she couldn't sense him.

And that terrified her.

Living creatures, no matter whether they were intelligent or not, had a semblance of emotion, of life. It was why she loved to toy with her prey, abusing and tormenting them whichever way she pleases because they expressed their selves – their true selves.

Yet she could feel absolutely nothing from this Demon Slayer.

Her mind was curious, her instinct fearful, demanding her to flee, despite never having felt the need to ever do so. It wasn't her, she realised. She wasn't fearful of humans. But his blood was. It was her Master who begged her to flee from this man.

Gritting her teeth, she tried again. To heal her cauterised wound to no avail.

"I see. You are of the Twelve Kizuki."

Ubume froze.

Her group was sworn to secrecy, even then, it was impossible to divulge the truth of the demonic society hierarchy.

Yet this Demon Slayer knew of them.

"He has grown cautious." He spoke, his soft but strong voice terrifying her. "Tell me, Lower Moon One."

The Demon Slayer approached her, taking a step and another towards her. Ubume bared her fangs and hissed at him, causing the man to stop.

"Being born into this world is a blessing in itself." He said. "Yet you continue to trample upon the lives of others. Why do you do so? Were you not human yourself?"

A little girl giggled as she tussled with a blanket.

Ubume tried to speak – to do anything to buy herself time. "What foes that matter?" She spat. "Decades, centuries, have passed and I have abandoned that disgusting humanity you praise."

She seethed as she felt her blood act, but he procedure was excruciatingly slow.

"You have not answered my question."

Ubume paled as she felt a fury like no other overwhelm her entirety and, only now, was she able to sense his presence.

It was as boundless as the sky.

"What do you think lives are?" He asked once more.

Her nerves rattled and her body chilled to the core as she remembered.

"You, who are you?" She breathed. "What are you?"

He was long dead.

Yet he looked the same, only younger. His tinted hair following the cascading winds as though he was one with the wind itself. His garb was of colours reminiscent of the glory, of the sun that she and her others dearly missed.

It cannot be him.

"I am but a man without value." He whispered honestly. "But I desire to find my worth in this world once more."

It is him.

Despite knowing it to be futile, she tried. Mustering her Blood Demon Art, she intended to trap the man in an illusion, however temporary it may be.

But she knew that she could do nothing to spare her life.

Before she could even act, she felt a swift, burning sensation from her throat and wondered why the would seemed to have become a kaleidoscope, rotating in its multitudes of colours as each portrayed visions of her many deaths.

She remembered the beauty of life, one that she had lost. And realised its beauty once again as she died.

"Hi no Kokyū, Hirin Kagerō."

Several moments of silence passed as the two young men watched the swordsman flick his blade to the side, before sheathing it as the demon behind his scattered into ash. He turned to them, his figure bowing to them.

"I am sorry for your loss. Truly, I am."

Masayuki placed a hand on Hiroshi's shoulder and pulled the boy towards himself, embracing him in a desperate, yet strong hug.

They had survived, and they would mourn their loss until they could not. But they had survived.


Sumi no Kagutsuchi


It was sunrise once more and the streets of Shirakawa-chō were bustling with activity again.

Though as busy as any other day, there was a sombre atmosphere amongst the villagers. It had been revealed that, the previous night, Kainonji Chōgorō had been slain by a creature of the night.

The villagers were not superstitious, however, they were a very cautious group. To the point of having men patrol the village whenever visitors came to. And the heeding that they must not leave the village at night was amongst many precautions.

Hiroshi now knew their words to be true.

Chōgorō's mother, the poor woman, had wept through the night. His aged father, in disbelief, had collapsed, only able to bare so much in his advanced years. It had been a terrible affair, one of insults and curses being flung towards him and Masayuki.

It was necessary.

It had become a day to agonise over for the rest of their lives.

His body was returned and preserved, with most thanks being offered to the swordsman who saved them. However, whenever they tried to, he would only shake his head.

"Please, do not thank me."

But Hiroshi felt the need to thank him, personally.

So, he sought him out, hoping to meet with him before he left the village. Though he had been called a Demon Slayer by that monster, he seemed to be more of a ronin, or perhaps a wanderer.

Rumour has it that Demon Slayers wielded fantastical blades that feasted on the sun, yet his seemed as a normal blade. There was also the uniform, yet he was dressed as a mere traveller of moderate standing.

With that image in mind, he spotted the man heading out of the village.

He had a small travel bag hoisted over his shoulder, the cream-coloured pouch revealing an intricate floral pattern in gold. His hair that cascaded down to his upper back was continuously being swept by the wind.

Hiroshi approached the young swordsman, but before he could speak, he turned to him with a solemn expression.

He dipped his head in greeting. "Good morning, Hiroshi-dono."

Hiroshi was surprised that he knew his name despite no formal introductions occurring between them. Regardless of that, he fell to his knees and bowed.

"I cannot thank you enough for saving our lives!" Hiroshi cried, garnering the attention of the nearby villagers. "I thank you. Even though you told us that you desire no thanks for your actions, I thank you!"

The swordsman was silent for a few moments, seemingly assessing the young man bowing before him. Another passed before he spoke.

"Please, Hiroshi-dono. Raise your head." He spoke softly, encouraging. "You needn't bow to me."

Hiroshi was hesitant, but heeded his words. As he looked up to the swordsman, he found that they were not so dissimilar.

He was young, perhaps younger than himself, but he was of a tall stature and lean build. His wavy hair framed his sharp but delicate facial features, especially the maroon eyes that peered at him with such kindness. He was beautiful, mystifying even by normal standards, but a sole feature stood out the most.

Adorning his forehead, moving down below his left eye, was a flame-like marking that seemed to be a tattoo, yet Hiroshi could tell it was not.

It was beautiful, godly.

"I should be the one to apologise for my lacking. Had I arrived sooner, perhaps, I may have been able to save the life of your friend." His gentle yet strong voice carrying over the cacophony of the marketplace. "None of you deserve to have experienced that which cannot be forgotten."

You were not lacking, we were.

Hiroshi watched as the young swordsman settled a hand on the pommel of his blade that was currently sheathed within a dark scabbard. There was nothing special about it, a standard katana owned even by farmers, yet the mastery in which he wielded it was truly a spectacle.

Hiroshi could tell, even with his meagre experience with the blade, that this man was unparalleled.

"It was to be a beautiful evening, one of merriment and joy amongst brothers. It is such a joy that I wish to preserve in this world." He smiled wistfully. "Do not stumble nor fall to your knees in gratitude, Hiroshi-dono. Rather, give praise to life and live one that you and your friend wished to live in honour of his memory."

Hiroshi was stunned and felt tears blind his vision as they streamed down his face. He hadn't expected such profound words from someone so young, yet at that moment, the swordsman seemed as though he were an ageless spirit.

He bowed once again. "I wish you a beautiful and prosperous life, Hiroshi-dono. As precious as life is, one only lives it once, and at times once more."

As he turned to leave, Hiroshi remained rooted, his visage stained with wet tears. He felt an immense gratitude towards this stranger, one he desired to act on, yet understood to not be needed. Instead, he called to him and asked of a single thing.

Not whether he could accept the monetary gift held within a pouch. Nor if, someone like him, had the makings to become a Demon Slayer.

Rather, it was a simple, concise query that would burn itself into the pages of history.

"May I, at least, know the name of my saviour?"

The young swordsman paused his trek, turning to Hiroshi with a solemn smile adorning his lips. And like the breeze that surrounded them, he uttered his name just as gently.

"Tsugikuni Yoriichi."

Then, he returned to his journey.


prologue: end


Hello, hello. It's me, again.

This is a little story I came up with several months ago, which I have now decided to give a proper shot on my main account on here. It shouldn't be a long story, but I hope it will be fulfilling.

Truth is, I love Kimetsu no Yaiba. And I've always wanted to write a complete, and possibly, unique take on it. And the best way I see it is to write about one of my favourite characters from there, Tsugikuni Yoriichi.

His tale tugged at almost all of my heartstrings, and for one granted a seemingly divine power, he has never experienced a joyful or remotely happy life. He was admired, even loved, but he lost many of those things in his life. I weep for him, truly. Thus, here I am with a new tale about such a character and I hope you will enjoy it.

In regards to my other story, such as Bileygr and Heaven's Joker, you may expect new chapters there as well. It's been a gruelling experience of discovering what I want to do with my stories, which paths to take to lead towards their desired endings, and what to do with each character. It was a tedious but thrilling experience, I cannot lie.

Anyway, thank you for reading and hope that you have good days until our next meeting.