Unwelcome King

by haaar2

On the night of the Shibuya Incident, Kenjaku seemed to misplace Ryomen Sukuna's 20th and final finger. However, the degree it was misplaced was far greater then perceived. Across into another world this finger travelled, to land in a village sink, that was under attack by demons. A course of events that would unleash a living calamity upon this world, demon nor man.

6. Chapter 6 - Memory Path

CHAPTER 6 - Memory Path

. . . . .

Hayara Ichinose is dreaming.

A baby was born on a cool Wednesday evening, his parents made trouble of remembering the exact date. The year was 1895, as Japan neared the turn of the century, great advancements in technology and culture were being made, rapid progress had propelled its self into all facets of Japanese life. The only exception seemed to be the large town in which Ichinose was born into, the family which ruled over the town originated from traditional daimyo roots, like most of the power still present in the country, however they've had to take on a more bureaucratic role after the large amount of reforms enacted in the middle of the 19th century, rendering all daimyos in Japan null.

This family used their influence to project their conservative ideas onto the town as much as they could, the modern technology seen all over was extremely limited inside, an unfortunate by-product of this traditional push would be a large portion of the town falling into poverty due to a variety of factors such as older methods not resulting in a sufficient crop yield.

The demon slayer opened his eyes to his mother gently resting him in her arms, a warm sentiment which helped to block out the piercing cold winds which whipped in from each and every crack and hole that seemed to be embedded on the walls of their house. His father was patiently sat, leaning over him with a wondrous expression.

"What should his name be, honey?" Ichinose's mother queried with a pleasant smile.

"The son of a great Ronin like me should be one of sole strength, riiiight?" The young father could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of his new son.

Both of them had barely turned 19, quite young to be having a family by modern standards. The two had a nervous yet passionate expression etched upon their face as they gazed in awe at the chubby cheeks of their baby, the surreal warmth of bringing such pure life into the world blocked out all the pain and worry from the outside, their sole focus was inward, looking at the new rather then the old. Both of them at this moment had made a pact to themselves to protect this child with all of their energy, before having this unwanted child they were already under money stress, the idea of a baby was daunting at best, however seeing this miracle melted all anxiety away for the pair. Only love remained for Ichinose.

"You're a bit late to be a Ronin don't you think? At least I wouldn't classify guarding merchant's stock as being one..." Ichinose's mother reciprocated his father's brag slyly.

"Uh huh... you seem so resistant to the idea of your husband being a great warrior don't you." He'd scoff, attempting to put on a fake frown to make it seem like he was offended.

Hayara began to cough. Setting in a panic within the pair, they'd thought he had caught a cold or something due to the prominent icy air permanently circling in and out of their house.

"Please grab the stove and bring it over dear, he's cold" The mother ordered with a worried inclination to her voice.

"Right away, of course!" Ichinose's father rushed over to the other side of the room, almost tripping over their dining table in the process, luckily he was able to clumsily regain his composure before falling face first onto the floor.

He bent his knees, lifting the heavy metal stove up, it would not be used often inside of the Ichinose household. Wood for burning was hard to come by in this town, however they'd use it without hesitation for their son. He set down the large black frame down with a small crash, if he put it down any harder it would have probably shattered their frail flooring, much to his mother's dismay. Wood would be slotted into the stove in an instant by rough and dirty hands, those belonging to his father. He blew gently on a small spark located in the centre of the cold metal case, it grew and grew, cultivating its self into what looked like blazing orange paint which licked and spit at the window of the stove, an attempt to escape and destroy and burn like fire does, however controlled just enough to instead nourish life. The baby boy's coughing ceased as the warm palette of the fire's light shone onto his plump face, casting a small shadow which crept throughout the room.

"Hayara." She noted.

"Hm?" The father questioned, a tad confused.

"Our boy." The mother continued, satisfied with her answer.

"What does it mean?" The boy's father commented once more, Japanese names often had intricate meaning based behind each of them.

"It doesn't have any meaning, it's his name to put meaning on as he lives his life, we shouldn't take that from him." She would re-assure her husband.

"Huuh, I didn't realize you were capable of such wisdom honey..." He'd snort, before lightly flicking her in the forehead, causing a small rowl.

"And I didn't realize you were a domestic abuser..." She huffed, garnering a guttural chuckle from her husband. They'd kneel in front of their son for a while longer whilst an icy air bombarded their small house, they didn't mind it so much though. The crackling of the fire mixed with his mother's sweet humming sent him into a deep slumber as all faded to black.

The boy spent the first years of his life in decent comfort, his father would often be absent, off on another mission, as it turns out, he was an actual bodyguard for merchant convoys, the man was well-versed in kendo and somewhat knowledgeable towards marksmanship, taking those contracts would earn the family enough money to get by, even if it was only by a hair.

Ichinose made a habit of looking out of a crooked window on the top floor, the sights and sounds of the world had become a great object of curiosity to the boy, who was now 4 years of age. He was a fast-learner when it came to his vocabulary, already a proficient user of the language, able to communicate about most things with his parents, well, mainly whine, he was a big whiner. His frail hands tapped against the splintered wooden frame of the window with which he used to observe the children playing outside, a slight melancholy as he was too scared to ask and join in, he was naturally shy after all. Large footsteps alerted him to the presence of his father, now 22 years of age, he had grown in some partial facial hair, and was looking even more rugged, like a hero of old, Hayara had from an even earlier age regarded his dad as an inspiration, he fights to protect others, and when he couldn't sleep his dad would be the one to often read him bedtime stories regarding his time guarding merchant convoys, about various altercations he had to solve and great problems he got into. Each story had the boy awe struck.

"Hayara, whatcha peeping at? Hmmmmm?" His father closed in, grabbing the boy and hoisting him up in the air, spinning him about whilst the child burst into wild spouts of laughter, until eventually he felt a little nauseous. His strength proved too much in the end, leading to him overdoing a lot. Hayara was set down gently to prevent him projectile spewing everywhere and after a couple of seconds the relieved father was luckily not covered in sick, he shot the boy a thumbs up and a great smile, he always would when he was proud of him.

"Thanks for not throwing up on me like last time..." The man ruffled his stiff yet wild hair, his head looked similar to a desert tumbleweed in how each strand of hair burst out of the roots.

"Something's up, even a muscle head like me can tell." He'd poke at the boy's head mockingly for a second, but it was really to get his attention.

"I'm too scared to play..." The boy responded with a near silent tone.

"When you take up swordsmanship with me, you won't be scared of anything, trust me!" His father would confidently shout, though it seemed to have worked to no avail on the boy as he was still woeful.

The father would clear his throat, bending down on one knee in order to reach Hayara's level.

"Look at me when I tell you this, it's important." The man stated seriously.

Hayara stared with a sharp nod in acknowledgment.

"Don't be afraid to go out there, you've gotta be like a big tree.." The father would extend his arms out as if he was an actual tree. This gained a small chuckle from Hayara.

"Big trees don't worry about scary things and even when they face lots and lots of difficulties, like a massive storm, they keep growing because of all that rain, I need you to be like that for me, do you think you can keep on growing?" He'd cup his ear with his hand as if expecting an answer from the boy.

"Yes, I can!" The child confidently snapped.

"Good! Now go on out there, just make sure not to bruise them up too much, you're my warrior son after all." The father brandished a thumbs up towards his son, they were finally able to make a breakthrough in their boy's development, moments later he would be sure to rush to his wife to tell her all the good news, and of course that it was up to his wisdom only as the catalyst to Hayara's social discovery. The child took his first steps to the front door alone, he went up on his tip toes in order to reach the handle, nervously sliding the door slowly open to reveal a sun-baked outside. Light glistened off of the boy's eyelids and shone towards the other children playing nearby, like a guiding beacon it carried him forwards with every step revealing a new confidence never seen before in him. A playful smile finally found its way onto his face.

"Can I play?" Queried Hayara his legs jittered slightly, he tried his very best to keep the nerves down, however they were on a constant assault, it was as though his emotions wanted to burst out of his skin.

"Huuh? I've never seen you here before." One of the children spoke, he was around 2 years older then Hayara. The hesitation in the boy's voice had almost broken down Ichinose, he was ready to burst into tears.

"Buzz off, go eat something before you come back to us, if you played with us you'd get snapped like a stick, in fact!" The largest kid would shout before running towards a petrified Hayara, the large boy struck him straight in the stomach and Ichinose's small frame was sent straight into the floor, children as old as 8 were now beating down on the defenceless 4 year old, his only option was to curl up like some insect and desperately wait for his father's help, he would come, he knew it, he'd get rid of all the bad things happening to him.

20 minutes later a bloodied Hayara stood up, he no longer had the energy to cry in response to the pain of his injuries. He limped sluggishly back towards his house whilst whining like a suffering dog, the only thought in his mind was that he should have never listened to his father. A mangy leg dragged in the mud as he uselessly slapped against the front door of his house. Hayara's mother responded to the constant banging on the door, her confused face peeked through the sliding door, the sight of it brought the boy immense comfort, even if he could only half see her due to the state of his eyes after the beating he had sustained.

"Dad lied to me, make me feel better please." Were the trembling words that fizzled from his bleeding lips.

The mother rushed instantly to embrace her son, tears like a waterfall rolled down and onto the floor, almost enough to turn the dirt underneath her into thick mud, in mere moments the boy was whisked inside and sat on the table, any make-shift bandage on Earth was attempted by the woman, due to their background they did not have a lot of medicine to work with, however Hayara's mother was both crafty and precise, fashioning bandages out of the cloth from her own clothing.

"You'll be alright, you'll be all better, I promise, I promise." The mother's shock at her son's state made her repeat herself, both for the comfort of herself and Hayara most likely. She was beside herself in torment for letting this happen to her joy.

"What happened?!" The Father burst through the backdoor, he was tending to the firewood behind their house.

"LIAR!" Hayara would scream at the top of his lungs, spit swirled with blood and lashed out from his mouth as he spoke, he began to thrash around, tears once again bombarded the child's face as he squirmed in a fit of rage and confusion. The father rushed over to tend to his son, but was brushed off by slaps from the spindly arms of Hayara, he wanted nothing to do with him, he wanted his father to pay for lying and letting those kids hurt him so much.

The whining child was sent to bed by his mother early tonight, his father was not present to read him another story, as it seemed at the moment the boy never wanted to look into his father's face again. The two parents downstairs sat opposite each other on the small dining table which occupied a large majority of their space despite its miniscule size. They say compact homes can be cozy, well not theirs. His wife sighed, causing him to speak up first, his voice thick with somberness.

"I'm sorry, this is all my fault, I wasn't there, and after saying all of that to him?" The usually rugged and proud man sat slouched, his head in his hands as he tore at his hair harshly.

"Dear, please don't apologize to me, you'd ought to apologize to him, I'm expecting you to be strong for him." His wife's every word left her mouth like a healing song, filling the man's ears with a harsh but true sweetness unlike he's ever heard from anyone else.

"Well, we'll see. As long as I still have you both." The father responded, his sombreness cleared up somewhat, but not enough to have absolved himself of being absent on this day.

It turned out Hayara holds long grudges. He openly ignored his father for over two years, sticking like glue to his mother who he would mainly tend to the garden with, the boy gained a great interest in each of the beautiful wild flowers that occupied each mound of dirt within their tiny box of a backyard. He would spend hours laying down and inspecting each one, down to the very petal. He'd assist with the watering, the re-planting and going with his mother to purchase things. Even on the father's side, distance accelerated due to his demand away from the house when it came to his occupation. He had to go in order to protect his family financially, above all else that was his goal.

On a soothing autumn night, a branch off of a tree would be displaced, belting off of the thin walls that composed their house, this loud sound awoke the 6 year old Hayara, who rubbed his eyes cautiously, he did not favour loud noises, nor the dark, so waking up at night due to a loud noise was certainly a cause for alarm, sweat beaded down his forehead as his head swivelled around the pitch black bedroom, his hand cupped to his ear so he could be extra vigilant against any noises. For him the dark set off all sorts of nightmare scenarios in his head, the void of black he saw was a dark canvas for anything to happen after all. Monsters, ghouls, demons, ghosts. Very scary.

A noticeable creak made its presence known as the sound echoed throughout the small house. Hayara froze on the spot, like an arctic tundra had possessed his body and sent his veins spiralling into icy cold. His nerves thawed out when he speculated it could just be his father or mother, just as he had finished thinking that. A shadowy figure filled the door-way in which he had affixed his gaze. It's black outline seemed both limited and unending at the same time, it stood out and blended in perfectly with the darkness it resided in.

"Fuck. There's some little brat up." The strange man spoke, his deep and guttural voice felt like it growled from out of his lungs.

Ichinose expelled a scream like no other, like some banshee shriek it resounded through every facet of the building they were in, and it was a whistle for his parents to finally awake, a flickering lantern sparked light through a crack in the parent's bedroom door, swift yet heavy footfall reverberated in the floorboards as something came down the hall. The shadowy figure had now entered the domain of Hayara's bedroom, it was truly over. He would be devoured by this monster. A bright flare cast its self and exposed the shadow, it was a normal man, he was middle aged and disfigured by what it seemed. However the man who had exposed him was none other then Ichinose's father, who was now barrelling towards the intruder. The culprit naturally extended himself, bending his legs and going in for a slugging punch with his right hand towards the man's face, however Hayara's dad ducked under this with ease, he had been honed in kendo for years after all. He was an extremely proficient fighter. And before another thought could be transmitted by the boy's brain, his father dashed into the intruder, his forearm folding over the man's neck like it was malleable putty, the headlock was tight, you could see the reddening of the man as his veins were seen squirming and bulging out of his skin like worms.

Both of the men began to lean over slowly, the intruder no longer had the strength to stand it seemed, and in the next moment the two were thrashing around on the ground, the man's once guttural voice faded into slurred gargles. The last death throes had erupted as he kicked about for the last time. There was only one man in the room now, Hayara's father. The expression on his face could only be described as pure vitriol, he felt hate, absolute hate towards the fiend that had attempted to harm his son, and he had dispatched that threat effectively. The man would and just has killed for his son. He was there this time, he was present. And even though a dead man lay in front of this 6 year old, there was no fear, all that remained was absolute adoration. A starry glint filled the boy's eyes, they began to glaze as tears formed at the corners of each.

"I'm so sorry... please forgive me, you were always my hero." Hayara spouted through his tears as he ran to his father, he practically leaped into his arms, and they shared a hug for the first time in two years.

"I promise to always protect you, do you hear that?" His father began to shed stark tears, rare for him. This was all a little too much, however he was beyond glad this was finally sorted.

"Please teach me the sword, I want to be a great warrior just like you." Hayara pleaded, his fists clenched hard in anticipation.

"Of course, but you've got something wrong, you won't be like me, I'm certain you'll be much better." He shot another one of his iconic thumbs up to Ichinose, it was clear he was proud of his son above all else in this moment, Hayara recognised that and the stream of tears running down his face only intensified at the realisation. His mother burst in straight after, intent on holding her child in her own arms as well.

"I've made up with dad... I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, sorry..." Hayara steadily repeated the apologies, that was the least he could do after all, he owed his family so much, he couldn't just take them for granted anymore just because they made mistakes. They're humans just like him.

"You do need to get to bed though young man!" His mother stated loudly, gaining a nod of attention from Hayara, who promptly tucked himself in ready for slumber.

He didn't need a story this time either, as he kept replaying that scenario earlier in his head, until he ultimately fell asleep.

'Dad is my hero.'

Over the next few months, Hayara had a newfound interest, one he invested a great deal of time and effort into, actually, at this point in his life it was his sole determination, it was to improve his swordsmanship. Even though he was six, a small wooden sword was given to him by his father in order to train properly. It was light enough to swing all around the place. He would practice the same swing over and over according to his father's instructions, the downwards swing. He was told that if you repeat one move over and over and over, then you would be unstoppable, and so he did just that. Day after day he would swing the wooden practice sword downwards, until either his arms or legs gave out. He would often deal with large aching pains now, however he shrugged it off, if he was to become a great warrior like his father, then pain needed to be something to ignore!

Not only would he train techniques as shown by his father, he would also openly spar with him from time to time, Hayara asked his dad not to hold back and that he would be able to handle a full-fledged fight, however he always did hold back by a great deal for obvious reasons. Progress was rapid with the boy, and he was soon actually making contact with his father during those frequent bouts, if only for one time during the entire session. All of this reached it's zenith on Hayara's celebration of his 7th birthday.

"Hayaraaa!" The boy's father shouted for joy, clapping his hands together to get his attention, him and his mother were all gathered around the table.

"Happy birthday to you, make sure to blow out the match." The soft voice of his mother resounded in his head, she had always been a comforting force in his life, he was glad for all he was given, even if he was not as well off as most other children in this world.

Hayara proceeded to blow out the makeshift matchstick candle on his cake, and all of them proceeded to chow down on it moments later, they absolutely demolished it, seeing as it was a rarity to have any sugary delicacies, save only people's birthdays. The treat was absolutely prized, the family enjoyed every bit of it.

"We can't wait, forget about your food going down, you're coming to spar me now!" The father insisted, a sly smile imposed on his face.

"If he throws up over you it's your fault." The mother coldly reciprocated.

"I'll just block it with my sword..." The man seemed a bit nervous about that scenario actually occurring.

"I won't throw up!" The boy seemed a bit irritated at the notion of him not being able to control his stomach.

The two stepped through their small abode, insistent on this duel, Hayara was going to put his upmost effort into this one, as he was excited to get it over with, and possibly get his first proper victory against his father. He had never won unless his father was caught off-guard. They had travelled out the front of their face, the boy being a bit apprehensive about sticking around near their house as he still had keen memories of the beating he had received at the hand of those horrible children. Nonetheless he charged through his fears, too focused on bettering himself as a warrior, his eternal goal. They both stood opposite each other, dirt audibly grinded against their shoes as they shifted on the spot, ready for a hard fought battle, Hayara was unbelievable for a seven year old, it was like his father was fighting some teenage apprentice in their local dojo, that's just how good he was. All the prouder it made the man though. The pale wooden poles they called swords were drawn respectively, and when they had finalized their preparations, the spar began. Hayara burst off, quick on his feet as he sprinted towards his father with a glint of excitement glazed over his irises. His old man had not moved, intent on impressing the boy by acting so nonchalant during the fight, however things transpired rather differently then what the father was expecting, the boy held his head high, his nostrils flaring as they took in as much air as possible, and the child seemed to take on a frown, however this wasn't out of anger or hate, his face was the picture of focus as he rushed forwards.

His father had predicted a lunge into his chest by the small child, and reflexively he pivoted his back foot, intent on rotating his entire body next in order to slide past the wooden stick that was about to poke him. The boy extended his arm and sword outwards for a split second, before his grip grew slightly limp, and his arm twisted around, followed by the sword to the side, carrying it upwards and diagonally into a slash.

'He went half in on the lunge and changed it? Did my boy just feint me?' Such thoughts would have probably bubbled inside the man's head over the disbelief regarding the performed move.

His father's footwork had shifted in order to avoid the predicted lunge, which meant at this moment, it would be impossible to roll out of a slash, and he'd also break a hip trying to duck under it. A million scenarios flashed through the seasoned fighter's head, he opted for a block instead naturally. The father's wooden sword was brought down in an instant, his wrist swirling to allow for the mock blade to find its mark on the surface of the boy's opposing sword. An audible whack resounded as they used this opportunity to respectively backpedal, distancing themselves a few feet from each other once more. Hayara's father raised his head in surprise as his son seemed to stop all his movement, observing his face drop as he projectile spewed on the floor.

"GAH!" The Dad raised his sword in a meagre attempt to block, none of the sick actually reached him anyway though.

"Sorry dad... my fighting fell short." Hayara spoke solemnly as he stared at his own sick pooling on the floor with a crunched expression of disgust on his face.

"Only thing that fell short was your stomach boy, you were incredible, though perhaps we should have listened to your mother's advice..." Hayara's father hooted, his cheerful smile maintained despite vomit almost finding its way onto his shoes.

The pair quickly gathered back inside in order to enjoy the rest of the night, and as Hayara stepped through the doorway, he noticed something peculiar, a large object was wrapped head to toe in cloth and propped against the dining table. The boy realised that this must have been his present and excitedly scuttled on over to tear off the coverings with haste. A finely sawed down wooden box was unveiled by the unwrapping, which he slid open the case to. It was his very own Katana. A glint reflected off of the shining surface of the blade as he drew it, a sparkle that was only matched by the glee in the boy's eyes.

"Not bad for a blade, is it son?" The Father spoke, his expression soft.

"Not bad at all, thank you so much!" Hayara resounded as he began to run around the Livingroom with the sword in his hand, much to the dismay of his two parents.

"Hayara, could you come here?" The father would gesture for the boy to come over.

"Uh huuuh?" The Boy playfully asked of his father

"I want this blade to not only be a present, but a small lesson to you, I'd like you to understand that it is a tool for defence, not utter violence, with it in your hands you are vowing to protect your loved ones, not to kill others who are also loved in some battle, it is only to keep the ones near to you safe, do you understand? This sword is an important oath, it is your heart, and how you use it really does reflect on your very soul."

"I get it, father." The boy passed off, wanting to spend more time with his sword rather then hearing his father's boring monologue.

"I know you don't get it, but you will in the future, at the very least keep these words in that great big brain of yours for now!" He'd ruffle the boy's hair, earning a hearty laugh out of him.

"Your father was always wise when it came to his words, I'd listen to him if I were you, even though he's stupid in everything else he does." Hayara's mother sputtered with a laugh.

"And your mother was always hurtful when it came to her words." His father hung his head in clear pain at the woman's remarks, earning a laugh from both the mother and son.

Gentle evenings passed by just like the breeze that they always brought along with them, Ichinose and his Father bided their time training with the sword, with the boy eventually learning how to handle the large metal blade without succumbing to its weight instantly. 2 years had passed without much notice to the boy, who was happily in his own world of family.

"So, boy, I know you've been interested in my job for a while, how about you take it for a spin? You're coming with me as my own personal guard for our next merchant convoy!" The Father enthusiastically asked.

The mother's expression turned rather glum quickly as she heard this.

"Won't it be dangerous?" She'd inquire with an earnest and concerned tone.

"It'll be completely fine, this isn't one hundred years ago after all, our job is essentially ceremonial at this point, no bandits to protect from anymore." The dad shot up a thumbs-up of approval towards the two, as if that'd convince them, well, Hayara was certainly convinced.

"Fine, but you stay close to your Father on this little trip, do you understand my boy?" The Mother would gently warn, though her words were soft, they certainly carried a hint of authority to them, making the child listen to her speech intently.

Hayara cheered, his Father egged him on by picking him up and flying him around the kitchen on his shoulders, almost knocking off a stray candle much to the Mother's dismay.

Training continued, sweat poured and injuries were suffered, however despite his young age the boy pushed through intent on finally going out in the world, properly. He knew how to defend himself after all, if those bullies came, he'd send them all off with a concussion. The labour paid off, as finally the day rolled around, Hayara had barely slept a wink, waiting for dawn to break over the hills and light to fill his small room for him to leap from his covers and rush down the stairs in a burst of energy, he wasn't a morning person usually, however such an event would roused him from out of his morning grogginess, as he reached the living room, he noticed both his Father and Mother already awake, as they usually were, his Mother tending to the kitchen as sweet smells of breakfast wafted out from it, and his Father at the table, a great big grin on his face as he looked at the boy.

"Someone's finally up, this lazy one has overslept." He'd spout out sarcastically much to the boy's confusion.

"But... I got up super early for this?! I promise I'm prepared." Hayara was trying to defend his 'oversleeping' in order to prove his worth and still be able to go on this trip with his father.

"It's a joke son, perhaps I've got to teach you some of your father's wit aye?" He'd shoot another grin, an audible scoff was heard echoing from the kitchen at this.

"Eat up." The Mother brought in a hearty, steaming pot of stew from the kitchen, a heavenly smell emanated from out of the bowls as the stew was poured in them.

The three would begin eating, the Father and Son respectively chowing down on their food in order to get out the door the quickest, the father's wife shot daggers at the grown man eating as if he was some kind of baby, this caused an end to the eating competition, which devolved into a quiet, respectful family meal.

"Done!" Hayara hopped up from the table, almost knocking his bowl off in the process, a quick reprimand from his mother before he sprinted for the door.

"Not without me you're not!" His father shouted after him, sprinting to reach the door as well.

"Just... be safe you too!" The mother sighed, these two were a great deal of work.

Hayara and his father wandered outside, his mother's flowers dotted the outside of their house, beautiful white petals, the boy looked at them for a moment, they were reminders of his phase where he gardened with his mother, whilst being a call-back to a painful time, they still retained great beauty to him, and plus, they are his mother's favourite flower. Each stem whipped and danced in a quiet breeze.

"There they are." His father's word rang out and disrupted the flower gazing, the boy looked up to be greeted by a creaking open air carriage, dragged along by two horses, upon it were a group of scruffy men and women, they looked like the sort of things that hid under rocks and logs, and when you lifted them up, they would scuttle away, in the nicest way possible.

"I'd like you to meet my noble samurai, responsible for protecting your food on its travels, day in, day out!" He seemed overly enthused about the group, he read their profession as if announcing for a royal's arrival.

The horses stopped with a sharp tug on the reigns, the doer of which was a crusted man of 40, he wore a straggly beard on his face already peppered with grey.

"Howdy Taro, this little scruff your son?" He'd smile through chipped and yellow teeth

"Sure is-" Hayara's father was interrupted by a resounding slapping sound.

"WHAT HAVE I FUCKING TOLD YOU ABOUT STOPPING THE HORSES SO SUDDENLY, MY PUSSY PRACTICALLY JUMPED FROM MY CROTCH AT THE JOLT." The hot-headed woman had slapped the man right on the centre of his bald head.

The man had to rub his head in pain at the sudden strike, the woman had quickly forgotten about her anger and instead refocused towards the two on the ground with an unexpected change in tone.

"Is that your son Taro!? Well isn't he such a little cutie, awwww." She was doe-eyed at the boy, but then once again switched back to hostile when she found her eyes on his father.

"I didn't know such an ugly fuck could produce something so cute." She'd slap the back of the man reigning in the horses as if to make her joke funnier, causing him to lurch forwards in pain once more.

"Hayara, this is Keiko, and perhaps she should stop swearing around children?" His father attempted to scold, only earning a laughing response by Keiko.

"Of course, but I'm doing it for your son, not you." She would reaffirm harshly, as she proceeded to point over to the bald man tending to the horses.

"And this is old man Masaru." Keiko spun with a laugh as she sat back down in the carriage.

"I can introduce myself, you know, and I am no old man." He'd argue back, daggers in his eyes aimed themselves at the woman now sitting with a smile.

"Wow! So i'm not even the youngest here anymore... what a shame." A young looking boy sighed, he was around 15.

"My name's Isamu, by the way! Nice to meetcha." The boy would cheerfully call out from the back of the carriage, that seemed to complete those who bothered to introduce themselves to Hayara, the rest were either sleepy or too drunk to respond, quite the group.

"Anyways, get up here, we don't have all day." Keiko reprimanded Hayara's father.

"Yeah yeah, quit bitc-" Taro stopped himself just out of earshot of the girl, both for his and Hayara's sake, luckily she hadn't noticed Taro's insult.

They both clambered onto the carriage, Hayara had his trusty sword gifted to him by his father on his hip, his father picked up a splintered bolt-action rifle from the floor and slung it around his shoulder.

"I like your sword, it's pretty nice, your father give you it? I have my own little thing, it's neat right?" The young boy would babble on to Hayara whilst waving his revolver around with a prideful grin.

"Well... it's nice to meet you all, my name's Hayara." He'd seem reserved, a steep comparison to the excited boy who stumbled out of his house.

"Welcome on, Hayara." Was almost said in unison by the group, with Keiko being the exception, as she was too busy swearing at Hayara's father for accidentally hitting her forehead with the butt of his rifle.

Hayaras coy nature melted off of him, being replaced by a bright and energetic boy brimming with anticipation for what was to come, Masaru pulled on the reigns softly, the horses began a trot, kicking up a small cloud of dust from behind the carriage as they carried it forwards. Ichinose felt incredibly cool sitting around all these amazing people.

"So who's our contractor for today?" Taro queried to Masaru, who turned to look at the man, almost crashing into a fence due to not focusing on the road, the group let out a collective shout at the man, who instead opted to talk to Taro whilst actually looking ahead this time.

"Seems we've got some out of town travelling merchants to convoy with this time, they're worried about bandits, we've only got to escort them fifty miles or so until they reach the next town along, pretty bog standard so don't expect a whole lot of pay this time." Another collective shout at Masaru after this terrible news.

"`Spose we've got to scrounge for whatever jobs we can these days." Keiko grumbled.

"50 miles is a whole day then, you've got to be brave my boy, we'll be riding in the night too, that's when all the scary Yokai come out you know." Taro attempted to scare the boy, however this only gave him more resolve it seemed, Hayara was just overjoyed to be here, ghosts or bandits didn't matter to him.

The carriage buckled and rocked as it traversed the jagged road towards two larger carriages, a group of eloquently dressed people lurked around them, all turning to look at their group who now approached.

"Some fancy ass merchants they are." Keiko scoffed

"Don't be rude, they could have you executed if they're nobles, but that wouldn't be so bad-" Taro would get clipped around the ear as he tried to finish, earning a laugh from Ichinose.

There seemed to be two groups, one was an affluently dressed collection of robe-wearers, they wore all kinds of expensive jewellery and seemed to be on edge, always shuffling or flinching, the other was much more interesting, all had swords upon their hips, ornate looking katanas, some of them different colours, however they all maintained a uniform, a standalone white belt and black coat, with words signed into the back of their clothes reading "DESTROY" this group was the first to react and walk up to the carriage as it stopped.

"Greetings, I assume you're the other group the merchants had called to help them be escorted?" A Slayer in a unique haori stepped up, his Katana was emblazoned by a mark of fire on its hilt.

"What the hell? These merchants hired others? Fuck this, we don't do shared jobs." Keiko spat, her rage palpable in the air.

"This got pretty interesting... they're all wearing the same stuff." Taro mumbled under his breath, Hayara was the most inquisitive of all, his eyes glittered at all the different people and their weapons, they were all swordsmen like him.

"No problem, we aren't here on a specific job, we're simply tagging along with these merchants in order to survey the area at night, increased bandit activity and things of that nature." The man in the haori would explain calmly, defusing the situation rather skilfully

"Ah, you're here, sorry for the confusion, we're giving you the full pay to escort us, these kind man simply asked to follow along, they said they also needed you to guide us through the roads, as obviously we don't know where we're going, and you're locals." One of the ornately dressed merchants stepped forth to inform.

"No worries then! We'll be happy to assist you, lead the way." Masaru grinned, these rich merchants were a path to a fat pay check.

Both groups reconvened in their large carriages and set off promptly into the woods, despite the size of the convoy, they covered ground quickly, they would likely arrive in the next town by early morning, however evening drew as time passed quickly, Masaru's group passed the time by playing various games, one was to the concern of his father, Keiko hanging Hayara over the edge of the carriage to be a pretend bird. Light hid its self under the treeline, and another couple of miles later it was no longer present at all, all sorts of insects would buzz around in the brush, and starlight filled a canvas of black above, to the wonder of Ichinose, who laid at the centre of the cabin to look up into the night sky.

"For an idiot, you have raised your boy well." Keiko hesitantly congratulated.

"Except for the sword part, should've handed him a gun." The young boy with the revolver chuckled.

"We'll ask to set a camp down the next few miles, I know you all must be getting hungry." Masaru said, to the relief of all in the cabin.

A great scream erupted from deep within the forest. All carriages stopped dead in their tracks, the one with the Haori seemed to walk out and with a strange calmness towards Taro's team.

"What on earth's going on?" Masaru asked, concern glistening on his slightly wrinkled face.

"We're going to go off and investigate, since we're the bigger group, we'll be back in half an hour, don't worry." The one in the Haori spoke with slight urgency.

"We'll protect the convoy then, obviously." Masaru replied, motioning the group behind him, they all jumped up, and off the cabin, much to Ichinose's confusion, he just stayed in the cabin, humming all the while.

The man in the Haori would rush back towards his carriage, and swiftly rush it off onto a forest path that stretched away from the main road. They disappeared into the night in moments, leaving only two carriages, the merchants and Taro's team.

"You all okay? Don't worry, we're trained professionals when it comes to this bandit nonsense." Masaru attempted to comfort some distraught younger merchants who were cowering within their carriage.

Keiko withdrew a small tobacco pipe from her coat, stuffing some of the crushed tobacco leaf inside and lighting it with a match, she inhaled, a small cloud of smoke appearing as she puffed out, Taro motioned his hand forward, being given it, and also taking a puff.

"Never heard bandits scream like that, you think it was to intimidate?" Keiko wondered, they all were still on guard, the young boy was in fact on top of the merchant's carriage with his revolver drawn at the ready.

"Probably, but you'd have to be mad to be a bandit these days, so much security around now and all." Taro responded, another puff from the pipe.

"Don't waste all my tobacco, you bum." Keiko snatched it away with a growl.

"You can't blame a man when there's smoking involved, its so relaxing." He tried to justify his actions, to the woman's great annoyance.

A small rustling from the bushes either side of them caught all of their attention, they all froze on the spot, individually drawing their weapons. Figures blasted out from the treeline without warning.

"What the fuck?!" Keiko shouted, the entire group laying into the shadows with gunfire which blasted the very air with noise.

Hayara looked towards the carriage in front, covering his ears at the loud noise, he was incredibly confused, and scared. The shadows approached the group in front easily, and as they drew nearer, their fear inducing appearances became more apparent to the team, gnarly fangs glared at them, a horrible madness was present in the eyes of all of those things. The boy on top of the carriage nailed one in its head with his revolver, only for it to pick its self back up moments afterwards to all of their shock.

"What the fuck are these freaks?" The boy cried, however, the things also charged out from the other treeline, with that horde already being upon them as one leaped up, tackling the boy off of the roof of the carriage. He was sent hard into the floor with the being already digging into his abdomen with its sharp teeth, the young man sobbed as he unloaded into its mouth, to no effect, a horrible slosh of flesh and fire as he turned the gun, and his last bullet, on himself.

"FUCK!" Keiko withdrew a rifle, firing at multiple who neared them.

Taro had his priorities straight, unlike Masaru who was desperately warding the demons off with his sword at the entrance of the merchant's carriage, he dashed towards the one behind them, where Hayara hid, he had to protect him, whatever the cost, he had to.

"Hayara... keep your head down, it'll be alright, let's get out of this." Taro softly reassured the boy as he leapt into the carriage, his sword drawn, the boy was shaking, being partially hidden by a small blanket with which he covered himself with as some kind of cover.

"TARO! GET BACK HER-" Keiko was overwhelmed by multiple of them, Taro witnessed her limbs being torn a strew, like a rough kid playing with its beat up toy, there was no compassion in her death. They piled into the carriage in front too, meaning Masaru and the merchants were likely dead, the others of Taro's team littered the floor as well. It was just him and Hayara.

The boy's father shuddered at the thought of now being alone, however he had to do something.

"Hayara, slap some sense into your father." Taro asked of the shaking child.

"But... what?" He was incredibly confused by this ask.

"Just do it boy, your father needs a reality check." Hayara nodded, quickly slapping his father as lightly as he could.

"You can do better then that! Slap some sense into this shitty father." He'd point to his cheek to give some motivation.

A large slap rang out in the air, Taros cheek was enflamed and red. "That's more like it." He'd pat the boy on the head.

"You've made me not scared, you did amazing son, now I need you to do the same, I'm going to go outside of this carriage, however if anything goes wrong, I need you to pull on this rope as hard as you can, it'll allow the horses to get you to safety, do you understand?" Taro spoke incredibly clearly, he needed Hayara to be safe.

"No, please don't go!" The boy begged, tears marked his face a deep crimson.

"You'll be okay." Hayara's father leapt off of the carriage, sword drawn with a sharp noise crunching at the cold night air.

The demons noticed the movement, ceasing their feast on the various corpses scattered around to finish their newly found prey.

"Doesn't matter what these things are, they're feral, instincts will tell them to go for my jugular, so I've got to-" He could barely react as one was already upon him, it aimed for his threat with its claws, ready to rip at hit, however Taro was ready, sword ground against nail as he successfully blocked the swipe, shoving the small demon back with his blade. He gathered all of his might to slash forwards, the sharp edge cutting into the throat of the thing, blood spilled out and the demon was disorientated. Taro used the momentum of the slash to carry onwards, pivoting his body and unleashing a horizontal cut which rended the neck of the demon, separating it from its body. It's head did not vanish however, instead it kept thrashing around, like a rotten apple rolling on the floor.

A second demon was upon Taro, he was not fast enough this time, and it sunk into his arm, it's fangs piercing straight though his flesh, he grunted in pain, stabbing his sword into the top of its skull, still, it did not release, and more demons rushed him. One sunk into his right leg, another into his left one. And as the demons pulled, the father's left leg separated from his body, red gushed out like a river.

"DAD!" Hayara screamed out, as if that would help.

The demon's crowding him were suddenly blown backwards, two became stiff, as their heads fell to the ground. Their bodies beginning to vanish into dust. Like flame a great slash purified them both, a raging inferno sparked from the dark, carrying its self forth onto more and more of the demons, as it left them a pile of ash. A movement of sword so eloquent that Hayara believed he was dreaming. The flame Hashira burst forwards, executing each and every fiend that found its way towards his blade. A fluttering haori the only sign of his movement.

"I'm so sorry we were late." The Hashira's face froze in sympathy for the only two alive.

"Just... tend to my son, I'm fine...!" The man spurted blood from his mouth as he laid there, his leg a few feet from him.

The medics gave him the unwanted attention anyway, patching what remained of his leg into a stump that no longer bled. Stitches were applied where they needed to be, however he would not walk properly or do anything properly again it seemed.

"Are you okay?" A demon slayer questioned the shivering boy, however as soon as he came too, the boy charged from the carriage into his father's bloody arms, sobbing uncontrollably all the while.

"Dad, you're my hero, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault, you tried to protect me, I'm sorry, you can't die, you need to teach me more of the sword, please." Hayara managed through tears.

Taro just grinned with his now red teeth, ruffling the boys hair.

"Do you have any immediate family who can take care of you?" The Hashira asked.

"Just my wife-" Taro was interrupted by a scream.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU COME EARLIER! NOW DAD IS LIKE THIS!" The boy cried out, running towards the man in the haori, he proceeded to repeatedly punch his leg in a tantrum.

"Stop Hayara..." The father did not have the strength to shout.

"It's fine, I have brought this upon my self, it's my responsibility to protect and I have fallen short." He gave a deep sigh, though having remained stoic up until now, his emotion seemed to spill out just by the gestures he made.

Hayara tired from his tantrum, and instead opted to sit by his father cross-legged, to ensure he was okay. Taro chuckled at the boy's tenacity after all of this, however his memory kicked back in at this point, causing him to realise his dead comrades who now lay only a few metres away. Tears brimmed on his pupils, however he had to keep up appearances for his boy. Plus it would be embarrassing to cry around all of these people.

"Who are you anyway, not any regular human, like those things back there, that's for sure..." Taro was inquisitve, he eyed them all with suspicion, still with gratitude for saving his and his son's lives of course.

"Demon slayer corps, and those were demons, not just of mythology." The man nonchalantly replied, both Hayara and Taro were start struck by such an incredible answer, they were not expecting the paranormal in this.

"Huh..." Taro could not believe himself right now, he had fought demons.

The boy's father was quickly lifted up with the help of two demon slayers, and lead over with Hayara towards his now empty team's carriage, a stark reminder of what had unfolded tonight.

"We'll take the bodies back on our carriage, you'll be able to bury them Taro, and if you or your son need anything, I owe you deeply for my mistakes tonight, so I will assist you in anyway, simply send a letter addressed here." The Hashira motions to a demon slayer, who hands Taro a small card, it appears to have an address written on it.

"We'll rendezvous back at your town, and of course, we'll tow your carriage along with us so your father can rest." The Hashira glided over, ruffling the boy's hair.

The slayers' carriage had lurched forward, hauling both Hayara and his father behind them back into the inky night. Taro was clutching the note, a neutral expression etched onto his face.

"You're okay, right? Hayara?" The Father spoke with an edge of concern on his every word.

The boy smiled lightly, attempting to reassure his now disabled father, a newly made stump was present on his arm and leg. A makeshift crude crutch was constructed out of sticks by one of the slayers', which now rested at the father's side. Dried blood clung to his bandages which hung loosely around his amputated wounds. Despite all this, he seemed calm, too calm.

"I'm okay..." The boy managed, he had yet to fully come to terms with this idea of death, the only concern was his father, who had luckily come out of the situation alive, even if not unscathed, he was still thankful at the very least.

"Mm, good-" Taro snatched his mouth shut, staring blankly down at the floor, it was as if deep pits of black had replaced his eyes, the leech that was grief had devoured all life from them.

What was the cause of the Father's focus was a small pile of crushed tobacco leaf, only one was a big smoker in the crew, her favourite kind of leaf was one you could only get in Tokyo, it had a deep muddy brown, and made your lungs hack up tar, but it became bearable as he continued to smoke it with her. Her. The old man would constantly tell him not to go to overboard with the new addiction, laughing all the while before getting blasted in the face with a slap off of Keiko. Him. And the sweet kid who used to attempt gun tricks, almost blowing peoples' heads off whenever it went wrong. Him. All of them. Memories unable to repeat. Taro sat in silence for the rest of the trip, Hayara had decided to do the same, aware that something had happened, he just kept his head down, not wanting to stare at the shrivelled frame of his grieving father. Night turned to dawn as they continued back.

The Carriages had stopped relative to each other, outside of the quaint abode that the two called home, really, it was just an arrangement of sticks held together by meagre rope. Slayers had supported Taro off of the wagon and onto solid ground, his partial leg had touched the ground for but a moment, earning a deep wince from the man. Hayara kept close to him as he was supported over to the entrance of the house. A small knock to let them know they had returned. Taro's wife was at the door, her warm smile evaporating into a deep, cold expression as she witnessed the injuries sustained by the man, and the worriedness of the boy.

"Chiyo, I'm so sorry." Taro pushed Hayara forward with his remaining arm, the boy sprinted and jumped up to hug his mother, tears rolled down his face like a raging stream as the child dug his face into the woven silk of his Mother's clothes, his only comfort in this dire experience.

The woman had been shocked into stillness, still processing what had happened. However her hand extended outwards, striking Taro across the cheek in a flash, a deep red mark embedded its self on his cheek, though, he barely reacted to this, emotional pain often cuts deeper then the physical. Chiyo had grown enraged, a good hour was spent trying to get her to calm down, the Hashira extensively apologised to all of them for stirring up this situation in the first place, however he was soon on his way with the rest of his company, leaving only the three, deeply affected, alone in their small home, Hayara watched as the one thing that glued them together, love, seeped out from every nook and cranny of the family. That night, the boy went to sleep early, the sound of shouting from downstairs rumbled across the miniscule and thin house.

In the morning, Hayara ventured downstairs to find his mother still by the kitchen, having not made anything. He would naturally speak up.

"Are you okay?" His ask was coy and quiet.

"I'm fine dear, but there's something we're all going to have to do from now on, food has become a bit less, there's a food demon going about stealing it all!" She waved her arms about to make light of the situation. Hayara was able to give out a small chuckle at this.

"This means we're going to have to eat a bit less, but that's all, I'm going to get the job to fight off the scary demon and return all of our food, so please don't worry!" She gave another one of her warm smiles, it always made things seem alright.

Hayara noticed his Father wasn't up, never in his entire life had he woken up before him. This was off.

"Your father is still sleeping." Chiyo replied with a hint of grumble to her voice. Before continuing to tend to the meagre breakfast she was making.

Taro woke up several hours later, proceeding to start another argument which warranted Hayara to run upstairs and nestle himself to sleep. This routine seemed to not end however, he woke up to his father not being there, him and his mother ate breakfast, his father woke up, and then the arguing began. The only thing that truly stood out to him in this period of endless days was the one time that Chiyo took him gardening once more, every memory was vivid, his favourite part was tending to those wonderful white flowers that his mother loved so much.

"Hayara, do you know why I love these flowers?" Chiyo chortled softly whilst picking a petal.

"Why?" He asked, a quizzical gaze.

"The white petals are beautiful, if you think of flowers like us, they blossom in young age, giving us beautiful views, and then even as they wither, they selflessly give back to the earth, the white is representative of its good, if you follow the very same principles, act beautiful, give back, then you will appear as that very same pretty white flower. I carry one of its petals in my pocket always, because when my finger touches its softness, I am reminded of human kindness, and I'd like you to be soft to the touch for all those around you, Hayara, don't lock yourself away and be someone who is rough even if the worst was to happen, and remember, such flowers bloom in fields together, you won't be alone if you choose to blossom, many are kind." Chiyo would stand, humming all the while as she sauntered over and back into the kitchen, there was no shouting as Taro had not yet awoke, and as all was quiet, Hayara really did think on what his mother said, even though he didn't quite understand all of it, he was able to get the gist.

If things continued like this, they were manageable, they all got just enough food, enough warmth, the shouting was fine as long as Hayara rushed upstairs so that it wasn't too loud. He could do this. Then winter bared its icy fangs. The markets were closed as a great frost swept over the town.

Chiyo caught a cold. It gradually persisted, until her condition declined.

She was found dead in the afternoon by a waking Taro.

As Hayara had spent the day attempting to keep her flowers alive, he had no idea of what had happened until he was informed.
A silent boy walked over to his laying mother, digging something out of her pocket. The white petal was coated in a glistening frost, as perfect as the still face of his resting mom. He'd put the petal in his own pocket, before retreating to his room. Taro was too incapacitated to carry the woman's corpse anywhere, so he had to ask a favour of some distantly related family. Her ashes were returned to the small house a few days later in a little wooden box, a small painted flower impressed upon the wood, she asked for it if she were ever to be buried in passing as a joke one time to Taro. She was kept at the centre of the small table in the living room. The house was made ever more untidy after each passing day, food became scarcer as any storage was emptied out by the two remaining family members.

Hayara would often catch himself staring daggers at his sleeping father, utter hatred projected from his guts towards that man, if things didn't change, he'd likely murder him in his sleep. Winter had left in its place a void in that household, a separation of true and honest emotion, concocted into venom which seemed to seep out at every corner of its interior. The boy was the source of this grief, for his father had not a care for anything anymore, he often times sat motionless for hours, staring at what seemed to be collections of dust, or the odd fly that buzzed around. The child had decided, that on a cold morning, he would go out in order to clear his head.

His hands brushed against the splintering entrance of their house, three marks were etched prominently on the woodwork above the door, three hearts, three lives, now only two. The boy looked down to frosted mud beneath his feet and squelched forwards into the open air and away from his residence. He clutched his mother's petal, now a brown, shrivelled thing. If white was pureness, and black evilness, what was brown? Just shit? He clenched his hand, observing the surroundings. The group of boys were parading around near the house opposite him, it seemed they were roughing each other up a bit, violence in the name of fun, for the sake of simply violence. The boys acted like they were rudely interrupted by the introduction of Hayara's presence to them, and they all gradually sauntered over, the child, who had faced this before, knew what was to come.

"The Cripple's boy ventures out, thought maybe it was hereditary? Guess you can walk, unlike your pops." A larger boy mocked.

"He's off to kill himself, I would if I was in this little fuck's situation." Another jeered, rather loudly.

Hayara tensed a fist, throwing it up and into the jaw of a little runt in front of him, sending the older boy reeling backwards with a surprised snort. However, considering his situation, the boy's quickly jumped on him, their numbers and superior strength made it an incredibly painful experience for Ichinose, each took a turn kicking or pelting him with a fist as he was thrown to the floor. They were like maggots to an infected wound as they gathered around him to continue their beatings. However, unlike maggots, they were children, they eventually got bored and left the broken boy on the ground like some lost toy. He mustered up the slight strength to stand. Carrying himself with a limp bloodied towards wherever he could go. His face red with injury and rage. He half-stormed over to a strangers' house, picking up a small rock from beneath him, before taking a throwing stance.

He extended his arm out, waving it into a throw-

"You shouldn't do that, you know." An older girl spoke.

"Throwing shit at windows is all I can do, don't take this from me, go away." He growled, not wanting anything to do with others.

"Yeah, and also throw your life away, sure, you know they'll take you in for the damages." The girl snapped back surprisingly quick, leaving Hayara further annoyed at her presumptuousness.

Hayara now turned to face the girl berating him for seemingly everything he did, she was quite stumpy, but the way she looked down upon him it seemed as if she was on top, like she was standing on a step-stool, or something. However, her clothes were far from small, she was adorned head to toe in the finest silks he had ever seen, it was almost as if he was staring on that strange swordsman once again, something about that was incredibly catching to the boy's eye. He furrowed his brow at the girl's clear attitude.

"You're pretty short for that big personality to fit in there." He'd joke, his tenseness eased ever so slightly.

"Well you've got bigger problems then me, if you have to throw rocks to feel good about yourself fool." She shot an even more judgemental look towards Ichinose.

"My name's Hayara Ichinose, and yours?" He gave his full name, like he was meeting nobility he tried to remain as formal as possible, though the sarcasm was clear under his tone.

"Tsutaume." Her first name was unique to say the least.

"Ivy... Blossom?" Hayara was confused at the name choice, clearly her parents had no love for her.

"Can say the same for yours, who names their son Hayara? What does that even mean?" She aimed for the throat.

"Leave my parents out of this." The boy grew angry, his face scrunching up.

"My apologies, Hay hay." She had already coined a mocking nickname for him, this was met by another growl from Ichinose.

"Sure thing, little Tsu Tsu." Hayara hit right back, earning a laugh from the two.

"I forgot to ask but what's with the blood, you lose a fight?" Tsutaume questioned, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, but I kicked one of their butts at least." He mimicked flexing his muscles, though he had none to flex, though it still coined a chuckle out of the girl.

"Mhm, I really doubt it, reckon you fell flat on your face, maybe that's why your so ugly!" She stuck out her tongue mockingly, the insult cut deep, and ensued a chase between the two.

"I'll get you for that!" He ran after her at full speed, they both giggled all the while.

"Wait, wait truce!" She put her hands together at the last moment before being caught, causing them to both stop and for Hayara to hear her out.

"I've got something to do, want some get back on those boys i'm guessing?" A mischevious smile now covered her face, Ichinose was in understanding of what she meant.

"Sure, I'll hear you out." He replied, a smile also forming on his own.

"So here's how it goes..." Tsutaume had begun a long explanation, the boy followed along, nodding.

Around half an hour later, Hayara comes on to wander down his house's street, whistling without a care in the world, bruises and red still fresh on his skin. Eventually coming across the boys, who, had spotted him almost instantly and were actually rather perplexed he'd come back here just to get beat up. Still they sauntered over with those sneers that they always had covering their faces. The boy steeled his resolve, although he still remained a tad nervous about the whole situation he was now facing. As they got close enough, he took off running, as fast as he possibly could, a trail of dust in his wake.

"FUCK YOU!" Hayara blared at the top of his lungs as he sprinted off, the boys obviously gave chase, incredibly angered by this stupid display of disrespect.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" The larger boy stomped through his friends to the front of those who were chasing him, displaying surprising agility considering his size.

Hayara rounded a corner with an elegant twist of his ankles, leaving the boys behind in a flash, however as soon as they also turned the corner, a shouting order erupted out of Ichinose.

"NOW!" He called over.

A rope, laid on the ground across the path loosely was pulled at one end by Tsutaume, the other end was tied to a post, it stretched out, stiffening into a trip-wire, the boys had barely been able to process what happened, let alone stop, until they were already upon it, the rope caught their legs, sending them flying into the floor with painful speeds. Pebbles had been scattered and dotted along where the boys were projected to fall, and so their faces made contact with many tiny rocks upon impact. The boys clutched their faces and screamed with pain subsequently, a rather malicious prank intent on inflicting harm, however in both of their eyes', it was a deserved revenge. Hayara and Tsutaume both sprinted off while the bullies were left in utter torment on the floor, shouting obscenities as they went.

"I've got something to show you, come here!" Tsutaume tugged on Hayara's clothes, guiding him through the various alleys of their tiny town, for a miniscule place it sure was cramped in with buildings that suffocated them like water, her hair whipped around as she ran forwards, each step she and him took seemed to clear Hayara's mind little by little, he wasn't sure what was going on, the fog that was his thoughts had just grown more tumultuous since he stepped out of that door this morning, however, this girl, Tsutaume, seemed to be the remedy, she was his medicine. A strange feeling came over him in this moment, had he made a friend? They continued to rush forward unobstructed, their travels made steeper and more difficult by going up a hill. As they reached the summit, Tsutaume flopped over and under the shade of a tree, her ornate clothing fluttering as she did so, letting out a sigh of relief.

"You going to join me? Don't be so tight." She'd mock, though a hint of concern glistened her tone.

"Uh huh..." Hayara lisped as he sat, his injuries were at the height of their bruising, causing his face to look all busted up, earning a gleeful chuckle from the girl, much to Ichinose's discontent.

The boy now had time to observe his surroundings, and his eyes seemed to glaze with wonder as he did so, he hadn't even realised but he was practically on top of the town, this hill overlooked all of it, and everything in its miniature formed looked so beautiful, the buildings and trees various brushstrokes which culminated in a masterpiece of a painting, a warm sun only just rearing its self over the horizon this late in the day.

"This is where I go to run away, I always sneak past my guards to get some alone time here, lucky you caught me when I just did." Tsutaume mouthed off, rather casually.

"You've got guards? And those clothes, gosh, you must be high and mighty, who are you?" Hayara questioned, he was genuinely curious.

"Oh, I'm not much, I've just got a protective father is all, you know how they can be." The girl would complain.

"Mhm." Hayara's opinion of his father was clouded, but images of that bed-ridden cripple were overridden by a hero who had saved him from monsters, even if it was just momentary.

"You're quite well-spoken for some little peasant boy as far as I can tell." The girl redirected the conversation to something more negative, Hayaras face twitched with annoyance at the obvious insult.

"You're quite ill spoken for a pompous fairy noble girl who sits on her ass all day." He'd spit back, the two were about to descend into an argument until Ichinose stopped himself from saying another word. This was because a warm stream of light had covered his face, it's form changing as the leaves of the tree above the boy simultaneously blocked and revealed the sun to him.

"You never told me why you were about to throw that rock, were you angry about something?" Tsutaume asked with a newly founded genuineness to her voice which just made the boy sigh.

"It'd be long to explain." He spouted, an empty excuse not to say.

"I don't mind, we've got all day." She'd smile, her stubbornness as clear as day.

"Fine, but don't say I'm a liar after!" He'd frown, expecting the obvious to happen.

"Yeah, sure, sure, just explain the damn story." Tsutaume blared.

Hayara sighed, beginning to construct a summary of his experiences as a child so far, taking breaks every so often to stare at the grass, which just seemed to make the story more melodramatic. He included the details about how his father became crippled, and that it was at the hands of demonic beings, which, naturally earned a bit of a scoff out of the girl listening intently. In a few minutes Ichinose was wrapped up with his explanation, and they both sat in relative silence for a few moments.

"You're probably bluffing." The girl said mundanely.

"I'm no-" Hayara was cut off.

"Let me speak. But if you're not, then." She'd pause, before shuffling closer to the boy, and suddenly enveloping him in warmth and comfort, a surprising feeling welled up inside Ichinose, one that he hadn't felt in a long time, actual safety. A tear or two rolled down his cheek silently, a recognition of the negative actions inflicted on him dissolving in a mere hug. The embrace was held for a few long seconds, before it broke apart, and both observed a gathering moisture in each others eyes, deciding to laugh it off.

"Come meet me here again, tomorrow, same time as when you tried throwing that rock, if you even know what time it is, peasant boy." She sharply lifted herself out of her sitting position, beginning to slowly walk away.

"You're leaving?" Hayara was slightly perplexed, after sharing that longing moment, she's just deciding to up and leave.

"Well, obviously, I've got to get back to my guards before my Father has them executed, before you ask, that's a joke." She'd state very clearly, waving as she picked up the pace down the hill.

"See you tomorrow then!" Ichinose called, speaking was easier as a lot of the in the moment swelling had gone down, though it'd probably get worse again in the morning when he woke up.

Hayara rushed down the hill, almost slipping and sliding down it. He'd pass through the alleyways as day-fall's light pierced orange into every wall and surface, as well as illuminating the gravel under his feet to look like colourful sand at a beach. A deep derivation from it's normal grey colour. This could only be a sign of change, a sign of hope for the boy, his endless routine of drab that had been drilled into him ever since his mother's death faded ever so slightly, though his heart still became heavier, as he was out of the presence of Tsutaume, he was most certainly going up to that hill tomorrow. It was his only medicine.
The boy was quickly upon his house, no bullies in sight, most likely cleaning their wounds was the thought that bubbled in Ichinose's mind. He blast through the door with half-force to an awake father, sitting at the table, his amputations showing very clearly.

"Good evening son." Taro said dryly.

"Taro." The boy did not do him the respect of calling him father, though it cut Taro deep, he could not scold his son for it, as he has done much worse, as his son tells him, he was the reason for mother's death. Ichinose has matured greatly after the catalyst that was the attack, and his mother's death, he seems to know about emotional wounds, and how best to inflect them upon his father as punishment.

"There's no food left is there, we both haven't eaten in two days." Worry struck Ichinose's face, they only had so much food to go on, the garden which provided vegetables was destroyed when that horrible winter came, it also took the only one in the house with the experience to resurrect it.

"No, I've got something, here, I already ate mine." He brought out multiple portions of fruit and a slice of bread, setting them on the dusty table.

"You don't have a job, how did you get this? Don't tell me..." Shock glistened on the boy's face at what he was envisioning.

"No, I wouldn't steal, god no, vendors gave me these out of the kindness of their hearts, I simply need to ask." He explained.

"Well... thank you." The boy responded apprehensively, this small act was obviously not enough to redeem. He'd quickly snatch the portions of food and run upstairs for the night. Settling into bed as quickly as he could.

Dawn soon rose, changing into afternoon and Hayara burst out of his bed after purposefully sleeping in, charging downstairs into an empty and cobweb infested living room, his father was obviously still sleeping. The boy hurriedly fitted his shoes on, and retrieved his Katana from his room, he was meaning to practice some swordsmanship in front of the girl in order to impress her today. After getting all he needed, he burst out of the entrance of his tiny and dilapidated abode, once again, the street was vacant, no group of boys to be seen, I suppose it must've caused them some truly long term damage, though Ichinose had no time to reflect upon his morally ambiguous actions, as he had to be there, at that spot, at that exact time, if he was to meet her again, Tsutaume. Mirages of her whipping hair in the great gusts of wind that sailed through their bodies as they sprinted away from those boys filled his body from head to toe in what seemed like sparks. Tinges of numbness travelled across his fingertips as he rubbed them together in both nervousness and anticipation, going from a jog to a run as stones were trampled underfoot as he travelled down the gravel path. He tried his best to remember the route, weaving in and out of the small alley paths which snaked through the centre of the town and finally out onto the clearing where the hill laid.

Hayara was expecting to see a wonderful waving girl atop, there was a void where she was supposed to be, and a confusion washed over him, such confusion quickly descended into doubt that she actually came, perhaps she was a liar like every other that had come into his life after all. A small muffled scream alerted him to something being truly off.

"Be quiet you bitch... Or we'll really fuck you up." One of the boys said under a growling whisper to the girl who was currently being held on the ground just on the other side of the hill, only metres out of sight. They were planning on exacting revenge today, nothing would get in their way.

Ichinose had began to saunter up the hill, the boys caught wind of this, and they begin to appear from the other side, catching Hayara's attention, as his eyes met the bullies, his face dropped into an expression of deep anger.

"Holy shit, he's got a sword..." One of them spoke, surprise and shock were obvious on each of their faces, they dropped from smug to concerned as one of them backed out a small knife in retaliation.

The kid with the knife rushed forward clumsily, using a loose reverse-grip of some amateur kind as a means of scaring Hayara off, Ichinose simply replied by rushing forward, katana drawn with metal scraping against sheathe, the sword's container being thrown aside as he charged with a two-handed grip towards the attacker, twisting his hips right before reaching his target, and delivering a precise, swift horizontal slash, the tip of his katana only just reaching the bully. It was intentional. His knife-holding hand, specifically the flesh around his knuckles, began spurting out with blood, Hayara had just nicked his hand with his sword, the attacker was sent barrelling on the floor in a fit of absolute pain as he hollered out. Back-up attempted to approach the bully on the floor, as he was the only one with the knife, and if they started punching or doing harm to the girl, they feared that Ichinose would rush them with the sword.

"If you touch that knife, I'll open your neck." Hayara warned, mustering as much courage as he could to not stammer and therefore prevent himself looking like an idiot.

The bullies seemingly complied, rather compelled by the massive sword he was carrying instead of the person himself speaking being convincing. They dragged their friend on the ground away, rather than picking up the knife, rushing off to god-knows-where. As soon as they did so, the boy rushed over to tend to Tsutaume, glistening concern etched deep into his expression as he observed for any wounds on the girl's body. A wave of relief submerging his brain as she appeared to be spotless.

"What'd they do to you?" Hayara queried, a serious tone.

"Oh nothing much, I was waiting here for you and they just came from out of nowhere, just got subdued and threatened is all, they called me a lot of rude words though." She'd grunt, rather annoyed at the whole situation.

"Though I can assume it would've been much worse if you hadn't been here, so you have my gratitude, little peasant pissant boy." Tsutaume approached, giving him a small peck on the cheek, flushing up the boy a bright red on his cheeks.

"That isn't a sign of interest by the way, you're too poor." She'd joke.

"Whatever, just be glad I saved you..." Hayara replied, clearly a bit worked up and frustrated.

"Didn't know you were such a great swordsman though." The way she had inflected it seemed sarcastic, though she was dead-serious.

"Mhm, want a demonstration?" He'd nervously ask the girl.

"Sure thing, try your best at least, don't you dare mess up." Tsutaume responded rather enthusiastically, as she sat down beneath the tree to watch, Hayara nodded, backpedalling a few steps in order to remain a good distance away from her.

He'd hold the Katana by both hands, and as he was still on the spot, he performed a massive vertical slash, his forearms exploded with force and the air was heard being cut as it was brought down, very well executed. This would earn a little clap from Tsutaume, who watched on with a idle glee. This very simple movement would quickly shift, Ichinose would transform his still footwork into a flurry of movement, as he twirled his entire body around, gathering momentum through rotational movement into his sword to perform a large horizontal slash which covered a 360* circumference around his body, even separating a falling leaf in two upon its performance, once again garnering a small applause from the girl.

"God, you're actually incredibly good? Who taught you?" A flurry of questions spilled out of Tsutaume's mouth at the surprising display of skill with the sword.

"My father, actually, you should come by our house, I want you to relax at the very least." Hayara would ask of the girl.

"You're not going to court me there are you?" She'd joke.

"Of course not?!" His face went bright red at the insane accusation she now spouted.

The two would laugh over it, getting up and travelling back down the hill, the sun had not yet fallen under the horizon, so the girl must have had plenty of time until she had to get back. They once again traversed through tight-knit alleyways, and back towards Hayara's small abode. At first he was a tad nervous, not knowing why he had actually asked the girl to come with back to his house, it was just a learning experience he supposed. As they moved into the front of the building, embarrassment welled up inside him, she was some sort of high and mighty girl, what would she think of such a lowly and shitty house?

"Looks cosy." The girl said, fully serious.

"Thank you!" Hayara almost called out with how surprised he was, she hadn't even said it sarcastically to be rude, she was genuinely complimenting the place.

"Let's go in then!" She said, with an interesting amount of anticipation.

The two entered in through the entranceway, being greeted by the naturally dusty living room, and Taro sitting at the head of the table, chowing down on a small slice of bread, he'd raise his head and almost spit out his bread all over the table he was eating at in surprise due to the sight that befell him, his boy had brought a girl into his home.

"Hayara!? Is that a girl?" This comment amused Tsutaume deeply, the boy clearly got none considering the father's shock.

"Yes... it is, we're going up to the room." The boy responded to his father sharply.

"Nice to meetcha, I'm Tsutaume, what's your name sir?" She'd politely address Taro, Hayara sort of just stood there a bit slack jawed at how his father was being treated.

"It's Taro Ichinose, you're certainly respectful, maybe Hayara ought to pull a thing or two from you."

"You killed my Mom, Taro." He'd reply bluntly to his father, Tsutaume widened her eyes, simply following the boy as he walked upstairs with a quiet sorry from her to Taro.

"Well, you've got a point." He'd sigh, once again choosing to dig into his bread.

"Make sure to leave your door slid open! I don't want to be a grand-" Taro was interrupted.

"Go fuck yourself sideways." Hayara slammed the sliding door shut to his room.

"You'd probably cry if I swore at you, my god!" Taro shook his head in annoyance.

This occurrence of bringing Tsutaume over, or meeting her on the hill happened more and more often, over the course of a year, actually. Hayara had already turned 14, however they had stayed close as friends, rather then ascending into a romance, perhaps for better or for worse, due to the mysterious nature of the girl's situation. Whenever a conversation was brought up about her, in specific her living conditions, she'd avoid it, even speaking about who her parents were. An instance stood out to Hayara in particular when they were walking back from the hill towards her house.

"Hey, you can split off from me here." Tsutaume asked.

"Why? We're almost at your house surely? I haven't seen it before!" Hayara reasoned with a perplexed gaze.

"Sorry, I'm super busy at the moment, maybe next time?" She'd excuse herself rather swiftly and scurry away into the distance.

Hayara would stare at her disappearing silhouette, slouching as he turned the other way to walk back to his house. His time spent with her was fantastic, however an empty space remained in whatever their relationship was, it's like he didn't truly know her, she wasn't letting him know her, it was strange. The gravel below his feet crunched as he took sombre steps forward, closer to his cramped little space which he called home, he entered his familiar street, the small abode resting still on the side of the road, he passed through the entrance way of his house, calling out to his father, who should've been awake by now, there was no answer. He called again. No answer. Hayara had decided to go up the stairs to check if he was still sleeping, he slowly slid the door open to Taro's bedroom, a vacant bed laid. He travelled back downstairs into the living room, noticing a few scraps of food thrown under the table, all of this stood out as somewhat odd to Hayara, as though something had happened. That's when he heard a cacophony of words pour in his house from outside, accompanied by a firm banging at the door.

"Come out! This is the Town's guard, we need the son of the accused!" A gritty voice resounded through the door.

Hayara's heart pulsed, his mind darted towards every single conclusion he could think of to figure out why the town guard would be here, and what the 'son of the accused' means. He slowly approached the door, sliding it open. Sunlight flowed into the otherwise dark room, as he was greeted by the sight of multiple of the town guard, each had a gun slung over their shoulder, or a revolver by their hip. The one in front stared at the boy with a scrunched and angry expression as he called him forward.

"Boy, you're coming with us, your father is in the town hall to stand trial, as a witness you are expected to attend and give your case." The soldier spoke his orders to Ichinose.

He'd blink, perplexed by the words that were uttered from the man's mouth, everything buzzed incessantly for a split second as the weight of the situation fully bared onto him. He clenched his fist, half-assuring himself to sock the guard in the face, his hand relaxed as routes of thought entered his head as to the outcomes of his father, he cooled himself with thoughts that his father would be alright, scum as Hayara thought he was, he still didn't want him to meet an end.

"O-okay, I'm coming." The boy could hardly conceal his nerves behind the lowness of his voice as he stepped out of the door to follow the guards along.

The boy walked along in silence, surrounded by the towering figures of the men around him, if he was a prisoner, then they would be the walls preventing him from freedom, he imagined how his father felt being escorted like that, such thoughts made Hayara's teeth grind with a mixed feeling unlike any he had ever experienced. Spectators gathered at the edges of their residences, their eyes pinpointed on him as he was brought down the centre of the road.
A large silhouette dwelled in the distance, growing ever larger as they approached it. A European-style building, popular at the time of western influences flowing into Japan. It was simple in construction, though, it's white concrete reflected sunlight, making the walls of the building shine brilliantly, as if it housed only purity. As they were now upon the large wooden doors, one of the guards went forward to knock on it, the sound reverberated on the great wood, as the large entrance creaked open to allow them in. Hayara and the escorts then continued inside, and the boy looked around to be greeted by a semi-large gathering of people, his father was kneeled, in the best way he could, considering his lack of an arm and a leg, and at the centre.

"FATH-" Hayara attempted to scream, his voice was drowned out by the resounding slap across his face from one of the guards in response.

"Don't disturb the court" The rough soldier spouted with limitless aggression.

His father turned towards the source of the noise, their eyes now met as he faced his son, his eyes wide with regret as he softly stared ahead, he mouthed some words through cracked lips, from what the boy could assume, it was the mouthing out of the words 'I'm sorry.', followed by a single tear which rolled down his cheek. Hayara began to break down as silently as he could too, the only thing preventing him from lashing out was thoughts of his father beating whatever he had been charged with.

A regal man, adorned with the most expensive of fabrics, entered through the side and stood in front of the court, carrying a certain gravity to him, all in the room who now noticed his presence bowed with a great respect. He was the current chief of the town, though, that only being because his family belonged to a long line of Japanese countryside nobility. He was known for ruling with an iron grip, commanding fear from the subjects under him. His steely gaze judged Taro with a profound deepness. He raised his hand, the court had begun, and he withdrew something from his pocket, unfurling it into paper.

"Taro Ichinose, you are charged by this town with thievery of multiple counts, how do you plead?" The man's voice had a sickening neutrality to it, he was neither angry or composed about the situation.

Hayara's father seemed to open his mouth in order to say something, however no words came out as he rethought his actions, opting to stay in silence.

"We shall say you are pleading non-guilt then. We will verify from our witnesses whether this is true." The leader of the town, who presided over the case motioned for multiple people to stand, they were market stall owners, and they each stated their case of what had happened. The man had stolen their fruits and other consumable goods for days on end. He was caught multiple times but let off because of his condition, however his relentlessness made them unbelievably angry. They would sit down after their angry rants towards the crippled father.

"Hayara Ichinose, son of the accused, as witness and possible co-conspirator to these events, what is your case?" The judge spoke again, his regal robe fluttered elegantly as he seeped his hand across to motion the boy upwards. The boy stood, contempt the only thing in his eyes.

"My stupid father is innocent." Is all he could manage out, his teeth felt as if they would explode with how much pressure he was putting on them out of pure, unadulterated rage.

"Then how do you explain the two of you being alive? If the reports are correct, your father was unable to provide due to his physical state, and your mother had passed on, leaving you with no sustainable income to purchase food, am I right in thinking this?" The man gave a fair point.

Hayara kept his mouth shut, his eyes would just dart around the courtroom to various faces filled with the venom of prejudice towards him and his father. 'How could they know what I and him had been through? Fucking bastards.' Such thoughts swirled in his mind like a typhoon.

"That's all I need, you can sit." The boy did not sit for a moment, so the guards forced him to the floor in order to properly do so.

"Taro Ichinose, I have deemed you guilty of the crimes committed, and am to sentence you to execution via sword, effective immediately." A swift and brutal punishment. Not a hint of emotion in that man's eyes as he said it. Lives ruined with this action nothing to him in the face of his justice.

"NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! PLEASE! SOMEONE! ANYONE! HE'S NOT GUILTY! HE'S MY FATHER!" A plead was made to all in the room as Hayara darted up, struggling against the various guards holding him back, thrashing around like a wild dog amidst his shock. And he saw as every face refused to meet his, eyes diverted, necks turned. They all ignored him.

Small footsteps pressed against the wooden floor and echoed out across the hall. A young woman appeared in front of everyone, standing by her father.

"My daughter, you're late for the court, though, I'll excuse you for this time." His father reprimanded her, though his voice was full of care and affection, unlike his previous actions.

Tsutaume looked at her father with a smile, before turning her neck to observe the accused. This smile drooped down into a deep frown, her ears were also subject to a familiar voice. Their eyes would lock, a trance of emotion interchanged between the two as they met gazes, Hayara and Tsutaume had recognised each other in the crowd. The girl quickly put the two together. His father was being executed. 'Oh god.' She echoed in her head. The boy was subdued down, the back of his head beaten until he caved to a silent sob. He'd mouth the words 'help', a cry for assistance, everything rode on her. The girl ran to her father tugging on his gown.

"You mustn't execute that man, PLEASE!" She broke down into a mad sob in her father's arms.

"There, there, we have to, it's justice, don't you understand?" He'd attempt to reassure her, rather confused at why her daughter was giving this random man so much mercy.

"You don't understand, that man means everything to him, you'd be taking everything, you don't know what's happened, just for once, please, I'll do anything you want, just spare him, he won't ever do it again, if he knows what's good for him, you just must." She'd blurt out with whatever convincing words she could think, madly listing them out.

The man would stare at his daughter, confused, then changing his gaze to that of Taro, then to Hayara. A large sigh erupted from out of his lungs.

"Fine, but you must follow some rules from now on." He would note.

"Father... thank you... of course I will..." Her tears could hardly let her speak, though this was now through a wave of relief, and this wave spread and drowned out the anxiety in the room beforehand.

Hayara stared gobsmacked, so did Taro. Tsutaume was his saviour. She was everything to the boy in that moment, infinity, it was as though she could do anything under the heavens without consequence, a goddess. His eyes glistened with an emotion hidden under the surface for so long, it bubbled out unstoppably. He was in love with this girl. And as they stared at each other, all other distractions blurred and phased themselves out of existence. This bubble would be popped when his father would point for her to go outside.

"You'll be spending a lot more days inside now, little lady." He'd demand of her.

"I suppose so." She accepted reluctantly, though she had to for Hayara's and Taro's sake.

As Tsutaume was escorted out, their last eye contact was finished by a wink on behalf of her towards the boy, making his cheeks fuzz with a hot red.
He and his father would be escorted out shortly afterwards, left to their own devices, Taro dragged himself along with a crutch, they remained silent for part of the journey.

"Can we stop here for a moment." Taro pointed over to a little clearing off the side of the path they were walking home on.

"Mhm." Hayara replied rather coldly, he was still on the out with his father, especially after this escapade.

They both sat, taking in the air of silence, until his father once again broke it.

"I'm sorry, this stubborn father has put you through too much." He spoke with a bottomless sincerity, his voice was raspy as he attempted to hold back tears.

"Oh, I see." Hayara responded the most neutral way he could, though he was surprised by this show of emotion. Taro hadn't opened up to him until now.

"I put you through so much, this stupid person that I've become, your mother would give me another great slap if she saw me and the way I had treated you." He'd say with an icy sadness. A little tear up was roused in Hayara.

"I'm going to do my hardest from now on, for you, my boy, I have to prove myself to you, and I know that, but I promise things will change." He would assert, absolute confidence in him.

"I think I might be able to actually forgive you if you'd be able to pull off something as stupid as that." The boy let out a weak smile, the first towards him father in years.

"I'll help you with replanting your mother's favourite flower." Hayaras cool demeanour melted off of him at this notion, he'd burst into a sob, Taro would give him a reassuring hug, and then the two would sit in a much calmer silence for a while, before getting up to continue home.

Things had begun to improve little by little with Taros composed mindset once again. The house was cleaned, he even got a job to provide, white petals bloomed in the garden and outside their house. And one day, whilst cleaning out a shelf, Hayara noticed a small note lip out from the bottom of it, a thick grey dust that coated it flew off as he blew on it. The address of those people who helped him and his father that day. A voice spoke out from deep in the boy's mind, as if to take it as an opportunity, do something with it, after all, what could bother him if he became as strong as them? He could protect Tsutaume all he wanted. The boy took the note to his father, explaining his intentions with a certainness.

"If that's what you think is best, I don't see why not." He shrugged, a comforting smile covered his face. Hayara would respond with a grin as well, though sadness did lurk, as it would mean having to leave what was dear to him for a time. Though it was a small price to pay.

"I'll help you pack for it then, you ought to be prepared, though I'm sure your sword skills with prove yourself worthy for whatever those lot have going on." Taro would explain his words filled Hayara with long forgotten comforts, like when he used to coddle the boy as a baby to sleep.

"Thank you so much, father." The boy's every word was filled with genuine gratitude. A lot had changed.

The boy quickly got himself packed, his sword, food for the journey, other amenities, all fitted within a massive bag which he would have to lug around for the coming days. As soon as it was on he darted out of the front of the house, waving goodbye from behind as he went, Taro stood out the front, a single tear streaming from the corner of his eye, it wasn't like Taro to cry, though in this situation, seeing such growth, it must've felt very necessary to him to do so.
Hayara's silhouette vanished in the distance, though he would not be gone yet, he was still set on another location to go before travelling.

Tstuaume was busy inking off a blank paper, making some kind of notes whilst alone in her room, when she saw out of the corner of her eye, a strange shape poking through her window, it was Hayara's head.

"Busy?" He questioned playfully.

He was hit square in the head with a small pebble, almost knocking him off the roof.

"Are you crazy? We're on the second floor." She'd growl in anger.

"My bad, but I couldn't come here without saying goodbye." Hayara spoke as he slinked through the window into her room.

"Goodbye? Where are you going?" She'd quiz him, a confused brow raise.

"Going off to those people I told you about, those who dealt with the demons that day." He'd state without a pause.

"You're really serious about it then? Well, I always knew demons were real but. You're seriously pretty fucking dumb." All she'd spill out with were insults, Hayara would pretend to be her mouth with his hand, making it flap about in order to mimic it, causing Tsutaume to dash towards him, they'd chase each other around the room, before stopping.

"I'll only be gone for a time, I'll be back, of course, and strong enough to be with you." He'd go bright red.

"What are you saying? Be with me?" Her face flushed up in turn.

"You know what I'm trying to say. Here." He'd quickly peck her cheek. Their heads might as well have been on fire with how red they were.

Hayara would dart back out the window as soon as he had done it. Knowing the consequences of doing so.

"You know, I'd have slapped you if you hadn't run away for that..." Her words and actions spoke differently.

"I know, I know, but still, see you later, I'll miss you dearly-" He was interrupted.

"Wait, I've got something for you, just a little gift for all those missed birthdays, since I never have got you a present." She'd go up to the window, handing him something, Hayara looked at it with inquisitiveness.

"It's a little white ribbon?" He'd observe it in his palm.

"Yeah, I used to use it as a hair tie when I was young, it's made of some really expensive fabric, but I just keep it around as it reminds me of a different time, don't you think the white represents my innocence and purity?" She'd began going off about her own characteristics, earning a disapproving nod from Hayara, who had to lurch backwards to avoid an attempted slap by the girl.

"Thank you for this though." He'd seem grateful enough.

"Though I've got two things to remember me by, my dreamer boy." She'd go in for a kiss, their faces a heated crimson as they then withdrew, as swift as it had started, it was over. They exchanged last glances, and Hayara hopped down from the roof, continuing off.

Hayara began walking on a long and straight path, his future would be with the demon slayers, and he was ecstatic for what was to come.

"Hayara?" Tsutaume's familiar voice appeared behind him.

"Tsutaume, did you follow me?" He turned to see an odd sight.

Tsutaume was dressed in strange attire, unbefitting of her, they were in a strange place, there was blood on the floor, or whatever else.

Her head detached from her body, rolling on the floor like a ball.

"Time to wake up, brat." An impending doom overwhelmed the boy's body as he turned to meet the familiar face.

Sukuna was behind him, dressed in a white flowing robe, an evil grin on his face as the world blurred and fuzzed around him. All went black.

A cold air was the first thing he noticed as he was startled awake. The last thing he had remembered was a recounting of his memories, as he thought past that, he recalled being knocked unconscious by that lower moon. And of course, Sukuna's actions towards him. He was seemingly unharmed as he looked around his bed, though his left arm was missing in place of a newly reformed right one. A figure appeared from out of the bathroom, it was the calamity himself. The King of Curses gave a dismissive look towards Hayara causing his blood to ice over cold.

"Get up, we have a lot to do today." Sukuna bared his fangs into a crooked smile, his favourite expression to display a twisted joy.

Hayara clutched a small white ribbon in his pocket, he was living a nightmare.

---

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Apologies for the MAAASSIVE delay, my pc was bricked forever and the mobile app for this thing is unreliable as hell.

Hopefully you could get through this massive chunk of a chapter alright, I have a lot of events planned past this point so I hope some of you have stuck around.

Until next time!