Even though Sanemi was weak, his instincts somehow remained sharp, stirring him from nightmarish visions the moment someone nudged him. With a quiet groan on his dry lips, the white-haired boy's eyelids slowly opened, blinded by the overwhelming brightness of the day. After a few moments, his eyes finally adapted to the luminosity level, allowing him to see clearly. Beside him, a tall masculine figure with a black facemask crouched, inspecting Sanemi with his cold ashen eyes. His silvery shoulder-length hair combed back and bound by a deep blue ribbon. A snowy, sleeved haori was draped over a black fitted corps' uniform.
"Can you stand?" the masked boy asked.
"Not sure," Sanemi replied with a low groan, feeling surprisingly safe after recognising his saviour in the stranger.
If the situation differed, the wind user would push himself to stand up immediately. But as he had someone far stronger than him beside him, the boy gave himself a pass, at least for now. Looking around, he realised where he was lying. It was the exact area where these creepy children had welcomed him and the other participants a week ago. He swallowed a curse silently, remembering how little they cared, allowing them to venture into the mountain. The corps had sent – at the very least – some of them into inevitable demise, painful death at the demons' hand. Sanemi let a heavy sigh through his clenched teeth before standing up. Though, expectedly, the first attempt was an utter disappointment, no matter how hard he willed his body to move. A pang of embarrassment resided deep inside the wind user, fuelled by his refusal to come to terms with how frail he currently was. With regret burning brightly in his mind, he tried once again, but the result remained the same.
"Do not force yourself," the ashen-eyed commented after a while. "Here, take my hand," he added, extending his left hand hidden underneath a dark leather glove.
"Fine," Shinazugawa huffed, enduring another pain wave.
The masked boy stood up, steadily lifting the deadweight Sanemi had become. Even though the wind user could not muster any strength to help, it mattered not. The ashen-eyed slayer seemingly effortlessly dealt with the problem, going as far as to provide stabilisation for Shinazugawa once he was on his feet.
"Thanks," Sanemi whispered, too embarrassed to look at his saviour's eyes. "You helped me twice," he mumbled.
"I am glad you think so," came a reserved response. "But … I do not share the same viewpoint. If only I had reached you a tad earlier, I could have saved that girl," the masked boy added hesitantly as if trying to pick his words carefully.
"I failed her," Shinazugawa said in a dead tone. "I should have made her run away," he continued, allowing the survivor's guilt to taint his voice. "I should have been the one facing this monstrosity, not her," he concluded, hanging his head low full of guilt and regret.
"You did well," the boy commented. "I feared I would find you both dead, yet you still held your ground."
"I failed," a short snappy response was provided. "If I had made her run away, I could have done more. I foolishly thought I could protect her in the middle of the fight. I was wrong, and she paid with her life because of it," the wind user grumbled with regret.
"I see," came an emotionless comment. "It is not a time nor a place. Come, let's join the others who survived the selection."
"How many?" a bearably hearable whisper escaped the wind user's throat.
"I do not know," the ashen-eyed slayer said in a response. "But … I doubt more than five, us included," he added after a brief pause.
"Fine."
As nothing needed to be added, they slowly moved.
Soon enough, the white-haired slayers met the other survivors. As the ashen-eyed boy speculated, less than five participants reached the selection's conclusion. Two others stood there, trembling in fear, destroyed both physically and mentally. Even though Sanemi could not spot any missing limbs or nasty, life-threatening wounds, the uneasiness of their movements was enough for him to tell the whole story. They might have survived, but would the demons residing in their mind allow them to live, or would they suffocate them, leading to a tragedy or perhaps a suicide? No matter, it was not the wind user problem. He took the first step on his way to ensure his baby brother would never be threatened by these night creatures again. Even though bruised, weakened, and bloodied, Sanemi survived, killing or, at the very least, matching some powerful opponents.
A full minute elapsed before Shinazugawa realised that the creepy children were back, standing beside two crumbling, reddish stone pillars. Behind them, there was a pedestal with a wooden table allocated on its top. A large piece of fabric of a purplish colour lay there, covering some irregular shapes forming something akin to mounds. It got him curious, but he would not reveal what lurked in his mind's depths.
"Congratulations," the creepy children said in unity.
"We're pleased to see that you're safe," the dark-haired one continued. That must have been a really shady joke, Sanemi thought, clenching his fists despite the pain flaring across his body.
"First, we shall issue you all uniforms," the white-haired one took the lead. "We will take your measurements, after which your rank will be engraved," she added, keeping her sight fixed on the survivors' group.
"There are ten ranks in all," the black-haired girl said, naming them all.
"Currently, you are at the lowest rank, Mizunoto," the fair-haired girl stated. "Moreover, today, you will choose the ore for your swords. However, the swords will take ten to fifteen days to complete," she concluded.
"But first …" the dark-haired one uttered, clapping a few times.
Immediately, they could hear crows cawing, growing louder by a second. It took little than a few heartbeats for the dark-feathered birds to descend from the skies, each finding its resting place on the survivor's shoulder.
"We will now assign each of you your own Kasugai Crow," the dark-haired girl resumed. "These crows can be used primarily for communication," she added before turning around towards the table. "Now then, please choose an ore."
After a few minutes, the process concluded with each teenager picking up a roughly spherical object that would soon be transformed into a proper sword. Frankly, Sanemi knew little, if anything, about the art of swordmaking, but considering his upbringing, it was hardly surprising. No matter, he did his part, and all that remained was waiting patiently for his demon-slaying tool to arrive.
This moment marked the selection's end. The creepy children bid them farewell before storing the ore in a large bag and quietly leaving. A few minutes later, the trembling teens turned around and took their leave, not uttering a single word. Sanemi wondered whether he would see them ever again. Not that he cared, but it would have been an utter waste for them to survive, only to die immediately afterwards. So, in the end, the wind user and his saviour remained, waiting for god knows what.
"What is your name?" the ashen-eyed slayer asked unexpectedly.
"Shinazugawa Sanemi," the wind-breathing apprentice replied briefly. "What about you?"
"Yoshiyuki Nagato, it was a pleasure to meet someone of your calibre," a quiet response was provided. "Where does your path lead?"
"Eh," Sanemi exhaled heavily, thinking extensively. "I think … I think my master would appreciate me returning, if only for a moment, so he knows I survived the selection," he responded, mumbling. "Yet, I can not meet him with all this embarrassment and guilt imprinted on my face. He will read it in a moment's notice, and I would not like that to take place," he added, not knowing why he described the situation in detail.
"I see," Nagato commented. "You and I are alike. We both blame ourselves for the deaths of those we could not save: a survivor's guilt, a bane of my existence," he added, sounding exhausted.
"Yeah."
"Would you accompany me?"
"Where to?" Shinazugawa inquired, glancing at the fellow slayer.
"I think it is only fair for us to return the girl's mask to her master," the ashen-eyed teen mumbled, casting his sight downwards. "It will bring him pain, but at the very least, he will know of her bravery."
"Fine; it is the right thing to do."
With nothing more to say, they stood by the pedestal for the next ten minutes or so before finally turning around and leaving the wisteria-enclosed area. By the time they left the beautiful forest behind them, it was late morning, with surprisingly high temperature, given the timeframe.
It took them a few days to reach Urokodaki's house. At first, when Nagato had asked Sanemi to accompany him, he did not realise that he had no clue where the dead girl's master lived. However, as it turned out rather quickly, his companion had already considered it, sending someone his crow. Even more surprising was that it returned after a few hours, carrying a letter and a somewhat heavy satchel filled with coins. The wind user wanted to ask many questions but opted not to. After all, they were not exactly friends, not yet, at the very least. There was no reason for him to pry into Nagato's personal life.
Throughout these past few days, they shared a few long conversations regarding their goals, drives, and approaches towards being a demon slayer. They preferred to keep these talks professional, keeping their private lives hidden. Sanemi was more than content with this, as his past was tragic, to say the least. And … it would be shameful to scare away someone who could potentially be his companion or even friend in the future – someone he could rely on.
Urokodaki's house was located deep within a dark forest consisting of mixed trees. The building was hardly impressive, but compared to the wind-user family home, it was a luxury they could never afford. The walls were built of a mix of stone and wood, guaranteeing decent protection against the approaching winter. Even now, a thin layer of white puff lay all around. Inevitably, it would melt away as soon as the Sun rose, but it ruled the world during the night like this.
Sanemi noticed a bright hue coming through the only window he could see. The retired Water Hashira must have been inside. Yet before the young slayers could close the distance, the ajar door slid open, revealing an elderly man whose hair turned snowy. He had a red wooden face mask with an extended, seemingly comical nose. Aside from that, he wore a cloud-patterned kimono with navy-coloured pants. A katana was firmly attached to his belt, ready to use at the moment's notice. He might be old, but it would have been foolish to treat him as crippled, bent down by the inevitable time. No … as a retired Hashira, he preserved most of his capabilities. The age might slow him down, but the experience and wisdom were undeniable. Undoubtedly, he had been aware of their arrival long before they even saw his house.
"What brings you here?" the man asked, putting his left hand on the sword's handle.
"We are sorry for the unexpected intrusion, mister Urokodaki," Nagato opted to lead the conversation. "We are here as messengers of tragic news."
"Iwamoto was killed? That's the news you're bringing?" Urokodaki asked, allowing sadness to taint his voice.
"If it were the name of this mask's owner, then yes," Yoshiyuki retorted, retrieving the fox mask from his bag before handing it to the older man.
"How?" a short question sounded, filled with pain.
"A hand demon killed her," Nagato replied. "She fought bravely, but in the end, was not a match against this monstrosity."
"Please, come in and tell me more," the masked man said, barely keeping his composure, gesturing towards the still-opened door.
Taking on Urokodaki's offer, the slayers' duo stayed for the night, for when they finished their story about this year's selection, it was already a late night. The following day, Nagato's crow came early, waking them with its cawing. It was an early morning, Sanemi realised after glancing through the window. The shadows still ruled between trees whilst the Sun only started stirring from its slumber. The shades reluctantly receded as the first rays of light pierced through the darkness. It was going to be a relatively sunny yet cold day, the pale-purple-eyed boy thought, seeing all the snow lying on the ground.
Yoshiyuki wasted no time, retrieving the package his crow had brought. It turned out to be a lengthy letter soaked with a strong lavender scent. Not saying a word, Sanemi kept glancing at his companion as he went through the parchment, his face mostly emotionless until the end. As Nagato furrowed his brows, Shinazugawa knew something was off; he rarely displayed his emotions openly.
"I need to come back to my family household," the ashen-eyed slayer whispered so only Sanemi could hear him.
"Something happened?" Sanemi asked, confused when his companion mentioned his family. Throughout their journey, he had never done so, treating the topic as if it were some taboo.
"My … nothing bad happened," Nagato mumbled. "My parents want to see me," he added, but his voice lacked its usual confidence. He seemed vulnerable, not like himself. There must have been more to it than he was willing to share, the pale-purple-eyed boy concluded.
"Your parents? Are they part of the corps?" Shinazugawa questioned, intrigued by the happening.
"Yes, they are," the ashen-eyed slayer whispered. "They are both pillars, snow and winter. However, my father is not actively serving at the moment," he explained in a troubled tone.
Sanemi stared at Nagato, shocked with the revelation, but said nothing. After all, there was nothing he could say. Perhaps it was the best moment to say goodbye, for the letter marked the end of their shared journey, at least for now. If the wind-user survived, he was confident he would meet with his prodigy peer at some point.
Getting back to his master's mansion proved more challenging than Sanemi had thought. Even though he had to make up the road due to his journey with Nagato, he did not mind. Having someone like the ashen-eyed slayer as a friend was worth this little extra effort. However, the weather only worsened, treading increasingly closer to a full-blown winter with each concurrent day. As the temperature kept decreasing, he needed to force his weak and exhausted body to speed up. With no suitable, warm clothing, each passing day only increased his chance of freezing over. A slight scoff escaped the white-haired boy's throat, remembering when he refused to take a small satchel from Nagato. These coins would have proved useful now, he realised. As his stomach began burping, he sprinted forward, trying his hardest to forget about the increasingly harder-to-disregard hunger.
His fellow apprentices noticed him far sooner than he did. Exhausted beyond comprehension and starving, Sanemi entered the courtyard, not daring to lift his gaze off the ground, fearing he could stumble and fall. With his energy bank wholly used, there was no telling whether he could stand up if it happened.
The snow was no longer melting away throughout the day, usually amassing further during the cold nights. If his memory served him well, Shinazugawa's boots had been drenched five days ago. And … even though he had dried them by the fire each night since then, they could no longer hold the water, making him shiver every few minutes. How did he survive? Sanemi had no clue. Given everything he had gone through, he should have died of hypothermia or hunger, and yet he pushed forward, yes weakened, but still alive.
"You've succeeded," a disembodied man's voice said. The white-haired slayer knew it very well. Yet, he remembered the man's tone as harsh, not warm. "You've survived, Sanemi."
"I did what was necessary, master," Sanemi said, too spent to look at his teacher's eyes directly. All he could see was a pair of warm winter boots standing at the edge of his vision.
"Children, help Sanemi," the voice ordered. "When you're ready, I'd like to talk with you," he added, referring to the pale-purple-eyed boy.
"As you wish, master," a quiet response came from Shinazugawa.
In a matter of seconds, he sensed numerous hands reaching out towards him. In other times, it would have annoyed him, but now, it was an appreciated effort as Sanem's eyes closed, finally giving in to the sheer exhaustion. His family house might have been gone; his little brother might still hate him, but he was still standing, steadily following his goals. Being here alongside his fellow students and master imitated a home to him, a temporal one, but one nonetheless.
Author's notes section:
[2023-11-11]: Hey, here is a preview of the story's next chapter. Please, bear in mind that it is, as mentioned, a preview. Some parts of it might not be included in the final release. I will try to finish this chapter as soon as possible. I would like to clean up some of the tasks in my schedule, and right now, there are many chapters queued there.
[2023-11-14]: Hey, I have a major update for you.
[2023-11-17]: Hey, the chapter is finally concluded. It might not be as long as the previous one or as I would have liked it to be, but I will try to update the story soon.
Don't forget to comment. I really appreciate your feedback.
Note that the dialogues written in italic are thoughts.
As always, I would like to thank you for everything. See you soon :)
Changelog:
[2023-11-11]: A preview has been released.
[2023-11-14]: A major update applied, focused on extending the piece.
[2023-11-17]: A major update applied, focused on concluding the chapter.
Info: Please note that I will be approaching the canon events loosely. I will try to use them to my advantage, but please be not surprised if I decide to change them so they fit the story I am trying to tell better. As you might have already noticed, I will not use Japanese forms as I would inevitably make mistakes.
Info: I have included more stories in the schedule as I'm not 100% certain what I want to write next. Please, keep in mind that I might add or remove positions from the list. I might rewrite some of the older stories or extract some of the longer stories from `The story of one lost soul`.
Schedule:
- See the world through my eyes (finish the WIP)
- Hidden in the mountain's shadow (new chapter)
- The rise of the Blood Moons' servants (new chapter)
- Black Diamond (new chapter)
- When the clock is ticking (Warhammer 40k new story)
- Sometimes it's just better not to know (new chapter)
- My home is where my heart lies (rewrite chapter 4)
- The heart not so cold (rewrite chapter 2)
- The family tree (revisit the previous chapters and apply adjustments)
- The Prisoner of Your Eyes (new chapter)
- Lifetime of war (new chapter)
- Hope is the last one to die (new story in SW universe)
- Sometimes it's just better not to know (finish rewriting the second chapter)
- Life is full of surprises (new chapter)
- Exiled you say? (new chapter)
- Until my last breath (new chapter)
- The family tree (new chapter)
- The story of one lost soul (new chapter)
- The broken heart (new chapter)
- My home is where my heart lies (new chapter)
- A new story in JJK universe - focused on Gojo/Geto/Shoko/Utahime
- A new story in Bleach universe (potentially a one shot) - focused on Byakuya and Yoruichi
- A new story in Demon Slayer universe (modern au, school)
- A new story in Demon Slayer universe (moder au, divorce setting)
- The shadows can be deceiving (new chapter)
- Forgotten World (a new story - translation of an old polish text that I wrote years ago)
- The silence of the shackles (new chapter)
- The war call (new chapter)
- Will you look past my mistakes? (new chapter)
- The Breaking Point (new chapter)
- Bury the light (new chapter)
Bonuses' section:
A new story taking place in the Warhammer 40k universe.
Story of one lost soul: The war call: rewrite.
An entirely new story (possibly Akali x [Irelia, Syndra, Katarina]).
A new short story (Vi x Cait).
An entirely original story (possibly even two stories, one taking place in medieval times, the other in the far future)
Bleach story. (Byakuya x Yoruichi / ?)
Naruto story. (Neji x Hinata / Neji x TenTen / Nagato x Konan)
Fairy Tail story. (most likely Erza x Mira)
Maybe some Star Wars?
References:
*bonuses will be worked on when I don't feel like writing the chapters pointed out in the schedule :D
End of the author's notes section.