Higanbana

[higanbana-writer]

The Lady’s Mysterious Hatchling

Her home gone and family destroyed by a tyrannical empress, daughter of Baron Albrecht, Ilina flees to the neighboring empire. She stumbles across a mysterious egg and when it hatches a...baby comes out?? A really fancy, golden looking baby at that. Now Ilina must find a way to get her family back while raising a mysterious hatchling, forming new bonds, and dealing with a budding romance.

Come read The Lady’s Mysterious Hatchling on Tapas! 

[higanbana-writer]

Again, he didn’t come.

Your breath puffed from between your lips, slowly dissipating among the gently falling snow. Rubbing your hands together in an attempt to coax feeling back into them, you glanced at the paper lantern set besides you. Its once strong and guiding light now nothing but a weak glow as the flame inside flickered, threatening to go out and leave you with only the moonlight to illuminate your way back home.

You pursed your lips, debating whether you should return while the lantern was still lit or remain for a while longer. In that moment, a small gust of wind blew by, sending the tree leaves rustling and extinguishing the last of your flame.

“Alright, alright. I hear you. Stay I shall.” You muttered as you gazed up at the moon, a wry smile etched upon your lips.

Perhaps tonight was the night your beloved would finally show. You certainly hoped so, just like how you had hoped all those other nights before. It had been far too long since the two of you had last seen each other.

———

“It appears to be time for me to go now.”

You pouted at your lover’s words, encircling your arms around him to hold him captive as you whined, “Must you leave so soon?”

He chuckled, his gaze affectionate. “I’m afraid I must.”

“But this is the first time we’ve been able to meet in a while! Your recent mission kept you away for so long…” After a brief pause, your voice lowered into a dejected whisper, “I was really lonely, you know.”

His expression softened and he brought a hand up to your cheek, lovingly caressing it. “I know, my love. However, this next job shouldn’t take too long and as soon as it’s done, I will be right back here with you. I’ll request the Master to give me some away from my duties and we can make up for all the lost time. We can go anywhere you want and do anything you want. How does that sound?”

“Hmm…” You narrowed your eyes as you pretended to mull over his suggestion, though you couldn’t resist leaning into his touch. “Well… I suppose that sounds good enough. Do you promise?”

Another chuckle escaped him as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I promise.”

———

And so you waited.

Even when the flowers began to wither and leaves took their places, even when the trees shed them and snow began to fall, you waited, believing in his words. And you still did. After all, he would never break his promise with you. He must have simply run into some problems during his mission, that was all. You had faith he would return eventually. No matter how long it would take or how lonely it became, you could bear it.

For him, you would wait.

[higanbana-writer]

Everlasting Family

Pairing: Gyūtarō x Platonic!Mother!Reader x Daki Summary: Tanjirō fails to behead Gyūtarō after you intervene. Note: Based off the headcanon I did with Upper Moon!Reader turning Daki and Gyūtarō into demons.

“Brother! Do something will you, Brother?!”

Daki’s shrill shrieks sounded distant, muffled by the roaring blood in Gyūtarō’s ears.

How? How had things come to this? That Hashira and those other three demon slayers – all of them were supposed to be dead! So why was it that both he and his sister were on the verge of being beheaded by them?!

He’d been so confident in their victory not too long ago, but now, try as he might, he couldn’t suppress the fear that welled up within him. He could feel it so clearly, the way the cold blade sliced deeper into his neck as its wielder bellowed in desperation.

No. It wasn’t over yet. He could still fight back.

He had to.

Clenching his teeth, blood began to bubble at the stump of his severed arm as he tightened his grip on his kama, sinking it further into Tanjirō’s jaw in a last-ditch attempt to force him away. But the boy never faltered, not even seeming to register the pain. And a second later, Gyūtarō found his head flying through the air. Oddly enough, instead of the expected sound of Tanjirō’s blade slicing cleanly through his flesh, he heard the piercing screech of blades scraping against each other.

Rather than dropping to the ground as it should have, his head was suddenly seized by something and the next thing he knew, he was overlooking the demon slayers from atop a building.

“Wha-“

With everything happening the blink of an eye, he couldn’t understand what had just happened. Uzui and Tanjirō were still below, and he was certain Daki had been beheaded as well, so who’s hand was it that held him? It felt gentle and somehow extremely familiar.

“Goodness, I see that some pests have crawled their way into our home while I was gone.”

Upon hearing your voice, Gyūtarō inhaled sharply in surprise. What were you doing here when you were supposed to be away on a mission for Muzan? Had you completed it sooner than anticipated? Well, never mind that. Though your tone had been light and almost on the edge of playful, he could hear the simmering rage layered underneath it, threatening to boil over at any moment.

While he was unable to turn his head with no body attached to it, he was still able to catch a glimpse of you through the corner of his eye and what he saw sent a chill down his detached spine lying below.

A frigid smile graced your lips and your eyes, ever intimidating with the Upper Moon rank displayed, held nothing but a murderous fire as you gazed at the humans that had decapitated him. Never during the entire century he’d known you for, had he ever seen you this furious.

Just as Gyūtarō opened his mouth to call your attention onto him, he suddenly caught sight of an open folding fan clutched in your other hand. It was a weapon he was all too familiar with, having seen you using it numerous times during hunts for meals and times when you needed to blend in with the human courtesans. What he was unaccustomed to seeing, however, was the blood that dripped off its bladed edge. His own blood, to be more precise.

Had you perhaps… sliced away at the remaining flesh that had connected his head and neck before Tanjirō could fully behead him? That would certainly explain why he hadn’t started to disintegrate yet. Then, if it weren’t for you swooping in at the last second, both he and Daki would have been guaranteed to die.

He grimaced at the thought, shame quickly overtaking any and all relief he felt towards he and his sister’s narrow escape from death. The two of them had upheld their position among the Twelve Kizuki for almost as long as they had been with you, taking the lives of countless people along the way and continuously growing stronger. They were your pride and joy, demons whom you turned and taught yourself, honing them into the perfect weapons befitting of Muzan.

Or at least, that’s what he thought. But here they were, having been nearly killed by one measly Hashira and three brats not even old enough to be called men. An utter disgrace to their rank and to you. It would come as no surprise if you were to cast aside the siblings and leave for good, though he dreaded the very thought of his cherished family breaking apart.

“Gyūtarō.”

He couldn’t help but flinch when you called his name and while reluctant – perhaps even scared – to face whatever harsh words you had for him, he was left with no choice when you lifted his head to look him in the eyes.

Contrary to his expectations, however, you looked far from displeased at his and Daki’s loss. As a matter of fact, the burning ire you held towards the demon slayers mere moments ago was all but gone, replaced with a gentle concern for your children.

He had been prepared to plead with you, beg you for another chance if you decided to abandon them. But met with your worry and love, not a hint of anger or disappointment to be found, all he could do was croak out a quiet apology. “Mother, I… I’m sorry Daki and I couldn’t do better.”

You quietly shushed him, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. “You have nothing to apologize for. I know you and Daki did the best you both could, and that’s what matters. It’s that boy who’s the problem.” Your gaze flickered down to whom he could only presume to be Tanjirō, your lips curling into a disdainful sneer. “Those hanafuda earrings – he must be the one Master Muzan wishes dead. I’ll take over from here, so could you please check on your sister, Gyūtarō?”

“Of course, Mother.” His reply was quick and he blinked in place of nodding. As much as he wanted to kill Tanjirō himself for nearly beheading him not just once, but twice, he knew he was in no position to argue with you. He and Daki were already fortunate enough that you were so forgiving of their blunder.

Gyūtarō raised his body off the ground from behind Tanjirō and Uzui, and though the latter had lunged at it to prevent him from reconnecting his head, he was far too slow. Gyūtarō’s body leapt up and landed next to you on the roof side, taking his head back when you handed it to him and placing it back on the stump of his neck.

“Now then,” You narrowed your eyes as you looked down at the humans, a cruel glint mixing with the returning anger in them. “I believe you have reinforcements on the way, yes? I can see that most of you here are already on the verge of dying, but do try to stay alive until they arrive. I’ll have you watch as I slaughter them all.” As you let out a fiendish laugh, blue flames began to flicker behind you, taking on the appearance of nine fox tails.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Uzui muttered in disbelief, the ever-irritating confidant façade of his finally starting to break with dread peeking through its cracks.

But who could blame him? One glance at the younger demon slayer next to him was all it took for Gyūtarō to know that his poison had already taken effect. It wouldn’t be long now before Tanjirō succumbed to it. Uzui was now alone in his fight against you, Upper Moon Four. Oh, how the tables have turned.

A smug smirk slipped its way onto his face and as he began heading towards the direction where Daki’s head should have fallen, he heard the clashing of weapons and your voice snarling, “You should have never touched my children, human.”

Your children.

No matter how many times Gyūtarō had heard you say it, it still filled him with a warmth that almost seemed…human. With your words echoing in his head, he leapt from roof to roof, scanning the ground until he spotted his sister, clearly fuming. Daki seemed to still be in the process of reattaching her head, holding a hand to each side to keep it still as her flesh fused together.

She scowled when he dropped down in front of her, immediately beginning to whine. “Brother! What took you so long?! Those brats beheaded me again! You killed them, right? Tell me you killed them all!”

Wasn’t this the fourth time her head had been cut off that night? As exasperating as that fact was, he had to admit, after knowing that they would have died without your intervention, he was relieved to see her being so lively.

“Mother is home.”  

In an instant, Daki’s eyes lit up with delight. “Really? She’s back already? I have to go welcome her home then!” With her head now fully reattached, she rushed to her feet and started hurrying back to where they’d last been, eager to see you again.

As he followed after his sister, seeing how excited she was reminded him of the brief, mostly one-sided conversation he’d had with Tanjirō. It really was quite a pity that he’d refused his offer to become a demon. Gyūtarō had no doubt that if he had accepted, you would have welcomed he and his sister into the family. Well, not that it mattered anymore since the boy would be dead soon.

The three of you were a perfect family as it was and he knew that as long as you were together, nothing – no matter how many demon slayers or Hashira were sent your way – would be able to tear you apart.

[higanbana-writer]

Honeymoon, Un Deux Trois

Pairing: Kyōjurō x Fem!Reader Cw: Angst, implied character death Note: Inspired by the song Honeymoon Un Deux Trois, covered by dongdang

A demon’s dying screech filled the air, shattering the once tranquil atmosphere of the forest.

Kyōjurō sighed as he sheathed his blade, watching as the body in front of him crumbled away into ashes. This wasn’t the demon he’d been sent to kill; it’d been far too weak and confrontational than the reports had described.

Glancing at the starless sky above him, he was relieved to see that there was still plenty of time into the night to continue searching for his assigned target. Not bothering to spare another look at the demon he had just killed, Kyōjurō began walking through the dark mass of trees once more. He remained on high alert, keeping a hand on the hilt of his weapon.

After what felt like a while of trekking without any sign of the demon, he suddenly noticed a small glimmer coming from up ahead. Eyes narrowing wearily, he picked up his pace until he found himself in front of one of the many trees around, neck craned to look upwards. And there, hovering among the lower branches of the tree, was a small orb of light. He could sense a faint trace of demon from it, yet it didn’t seem to be doing anything other than just…being there.  It didn’t appear to have any intention of attacking him, so what was it for? Was this perhaps the demon’s way of observing its territory remotely?

He stared at it as he thought over the possibilities, his brows knitted thoughtfully. The longer he looked at the orb, the more he began to realize that it was actually quite pretty and it seemed to emit a rather comforting glow. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Kyōjurō caught sight of another shimmering orb just a few trees down. When he went over to check it out, he spotted yet another one further away. And it continued for the next few orbs he spotted, new ones seemingly popping up out of nowhere every time he neared the most recent of them.

It wasn’t long before he realized that they seemed to be leading him somewhere deeper into the forest. Though he would have preferred to find the demon on his own and catch it off guard, having the demon guide him to itself wasn’t such a bad option either. He was well aware that he was most likely walking into a trap, but he was certain he’d be able to handle whatever awaited him.

And so, he allowed the trail of orbs to guide him. The further Kyōjurō walked, the more orbs began to appear. Soon enough, they decorated the branches of the trees on each side of him, reminding him of a tree he’d seen once in a Western owned shop. A Christmas tree, that’s what the shop owner had called it. However, these golden orbs were so much more beautiful than the multi-colored bulbs of light from his memory. Everything looked so dreamy – the once dark and gloom trees now adorned with glimmering orbs of various sizes that casted a gentle glow, illuminating the path that seemed to have been set out just for him.

One foot after the other, it felt like his body was moving on its own. An irresistible urge to see what lay at the end of the light threatened to overflow from within him.

What was he here for again? Kyōjurō could have sworn it was something important. Yet, the answer seemed to slip further and further away from him as he thought about it. And in an instant, he was distracted by the faint sound of music that drifted through the air. He strained his ears to listen, his steps quickening.

As he got closer, he realized what he was hearing was the light and warm notes of a piano. Though he’d only heard the piano once before, there was no mistaking the distinctive sounds it produced. No sooner had he recognized the familiar tones, another instrument joined in on the melody – a woodwind of some sort.

It was a beautiful and captivating tune, completely foreign comparing to the traditional Japanese music he was used to. A soothing voice began to sing along to the music and it seemed to beckon him forward, towards the break through the trees he spotted up ahead.

Ah, finally. He couldn’t remember whom or what he was looking for, but he knew it lay just beyond. Without any hesitation, he threw all caution to the wind as he stepped through the trees and into a clearing.

"Everyone has gone. In our very own town, The mechanized clock Notifies us of night’s arrival."

Kyōjurō’s gaze was immediately drawn to a woman standing in the middle of the clearing, her back to him and head tilted up towards the full moon overhead. Upon hearing him, she immediately turned around and his breath caught in his throat when he glimpsed her face.

“Kyōjurō!”

While everything around him seemed hazy, as if he were in a dream, he could see that bright smile of yours as clear as day. The same smile that he’d long ago sworn to protect. Donned in a wine-colored Western styled dress and a diamond necklace that shone like stars adorning your neck, you were every bit as beautiful as he remembered.

“You’re late, you know. The music already started.” You walked up to him with an exasperated pout, though the smile remained in your eyes.

"The twilight dyes The sky the color of wine, And invites us inexperienced Two toward the stage."

“Well then, shall we dance?”

His gaze dropped down to your outstretched hand and before he knew it, his body was already moving to accept your offer. His hand slid into yours, fingers entwining with each other. Your skin felt cold and oddly smooth, almost like…porcelain. But he paid no heed to it, instead placing his other hand around your waist and pulling you closer to him. With your lips curled in delight, you settled a hand onto his shoulder.

"Chasse ‘n’ Whisk ‘n’ Natural turn I will do magic for you. Throwaway and Oversway The name of that is honey mead."

Kyōjurō had never danced before, at least not any kind of waltz. And yet, somehow, he knew exactly what to do. As he stepped forward with his left foot, you smoothly stepped backwards with your right in response. The two of you began to dance across the open space, seamlessly following along to the rhythm of the music.

"Honeymoon, Un Deux Trois, We entwine each other’s fingers. Singin’ Swingin’ Sweetest Song And play the dreams of us two."

Even in that clearing, all the trees that lined its edges were bedecked with glowing orbs which bathed the area in a soft, romantic light. But its beauty was left unappreciated by him, nothing but a blur as his gaze stayed on yours. All he could see was you and the way you looked at him with such overflowing love, as if he were your entire world. No words were spoken between the two of you, because no words were needed.

"Chasse ‘n’ Whisk ‘n’ Natural turn I will cast magic on you. Throwaway and Oversway The honey of fascination. Honey mead."

The two of you danced as one, each movement he made perfectly complimented by yours and yours with his. The skirt of your dress flared out as Kyōjurō spun you around, briefly giving you the appearance of a flower in perfect bloom. Pulling you back into his arms, time seemed to stop for a moment as he dipped you back, leaning in until your noses were almost touching and your breath ghosted across his lips. You stared up at him with eager anticipation and unable to resist that endearing look, he pressed a soft kiss against your mouth.

"Honeymoon, Un Deux Trois, I put my lips on those of yours. Singin’ Swingin’ Sweetest Song And play the dreams of us two."

It’d been so long since he’d last felt your lips upon his and though they were as cold as your hands – giving him a slight sense of unfamiliarity – he still relished every moment of the kiss. By the time he had pulled you back onto your feet, the singing had faded away and only music filled the air. So instead of going back to dancing, the two of you simply swayed to the quieting tune. Kyōjurō held you in his arms while you rested your head on him, and caught up in the moment, three words spilled past his lips before he even realized it.

“I love you.”

It came out as no louder than a whisper, but you heard him clearly, nuzzling his neck as you echoed the phrase back to him. It was such a simple exchange of affection between lovers, but to him, it meant everything. Up until that point, to hear you utter those words to him even for just one more time was something he could only desperately wish for.

“We can stay like this, you know.” You murmured, placing a loving kiss against his jaw. “Just the two of us. That’s what you’ve been yearning for, right? So stay with me. Promise me you won’t leave.”

Your voice was like honey to his ears, a smooth and sweet temptation that took every ounce of his will to resist. He swallowed hard, arms tightening around you. No matter how much he wanted to give in and remain with you, he knew that he couldn’t.

“…Please forgive me, my love.”

With a pained expression, Kyōjurō forced himself to let you go and gently push you away. He ignored the confused and hurt expression on your face, instead whirling around to face the demon that he'd sensed sneaking up on him. It was dangerously close, arm partially outstretched with its clawed hand aimed at his throat. But its eyes widened in shock when it met his.

“How-“ The demon had only been able to utter a single word before Kyōjurō unsheathed his sword and swung it up in an arc, beheading it in one smooth motion.

Both the body and head dropped with a dull thud and no more than a few seconds later, the orbs began to flicker and distort all around him. The hazy fog that had clouded his mind the entire time began to clear up as well. Something loudly clattered to the ground behind him and he couldn’t help but flinch at the sound, already instinctively knowing what it was.

Bracing himself, he slowly turned to look. You were nowhere to be seen and instead, a life-sized doll lay crumbled at the spot you had been. The red dress you had danced with him in only moments ago now hung loosely from its frame as its glass eyes stared blankly ahead. Seating himself next to it, Kyōjurō carefully took the doll’s cold hand into his own. With the glow from the orbs now gone, only the moonlight was there to shed light upon the cracks that'd begun to form along the doll's porcelain limbs, and his heart clenched painfully at the sight. He took a shaky breath as he averted his gaze, choosing to look up at the moon instead.

“I’m sorry, but please wait for me a little bit longer.” He whispered, praying that his words would reach you somewhere up there. “I.. I cannot join you just yet.”

He could feel it now, the way the hand he held had begun to disintegrate. He looked down just in time to see the remaining fingertips crumble away, his hand left grasping at nothing but air.

This was almost too much to bear. Kyōjurō hadn’t expected this to be as painful as the first time he had let you go. It was just a doll, the mere product of some demon’s Blood Art. And yet, he felt so empty and powerless as it slowly vanished in front of his very eyes.

He watched as the last of the ashes rose up into the sky, leaving him with nothing but the shattered fragments of an already fading dream.

[higanbana-writer]

Wavering Gaze

Pairing: Kyōjurō x Gn!Upper Moon!Reader Prompt: [Soulmate AU where one of your eyes is the same color as your soulmate’s.] Kyōjurō has finally met his soulmate. But what was he supposed to do when you're an Upper Moon and he, a Hashira? C/N: Just Shinjurō being an ass during his brief screentime. A/N: Hoo boy. I was originally going to just make this a two part series, but I got a bit carried away and the 'second' part ended up being waaaay too long. So, three parts it is! Part: 1, 2, 3 (coming soon)

“Follow your heart, Kyōjurō.”

Those had been his mother’s last words to him and Kyōjurō knew that she’d been referring to his soulmate. How could he not? Though he had been but a mere child then, he could still notice all the grief his mismatched eyes caused his parents – namely his father. He saw how often Shinjurō would cast subtle glances at the eyepatch that hid his soulmate’s eye from the world. A conflicted expression would always rest upon his face whenever he did so, although Kyōjurō could never tell what exactly lay behind it. And he noticed it, how often his father would remind him more than he did with Senjurō, that demons were the enemy who preyed on the innocent and deserved no mercy. But he didn’t mind the extra reminders, always wholeheartedly agreeing with him.  

So, why had his mother left him with those final words? He’d always clearly expressed that he had every intention of following in his father’s footsteps to become the next Flame Hashira, and in doing so, rejected the very notion of his soulmate. Every time he picked up his practice sword to train, with the sole goal of being able to protect the weak, he was following his heart. Not once had he wavered over what he should be doing. So…why? He had puzzled over her words for the longest times.

He never harbored any grievances towards the fact that his soulmate was an Upper Moon. Sure, hiding his eye all the time was a bit tiring and troublesome, but it wasn’t your fault. After all, it hadn’t been as if you’d specifically picked him to be your soulmate. And it weren’t as if you had caused him or his family any harm. He had absolutely no reason to hold any personal grudges against you.

As a matter of fact, even though he’d see your eye reflected back at him on the occasions that he’d take off his eyepatch and gaze into the mirror, he always felt a strange sort of detachment. To him, you were simply a demon whom had taken many lives and needed to be killed for the future safety of many others. Perhaps your eternal life would be ended by a demon slayer before the two of you would ever meet, or perhaps Kyōjurō himself would be the one to end you. Soulmate or not, it was his duty to protect all the precious human lives out there from the likes of your kind.

At least, that’s what he’d told himself throughout his entire life. And yet, as you stood there before him, hesitant but captivating smile on your lips, all of that shattered into tiny pieces.

Kyōjurō had wondered from time to time about what you would look like, but never did he expect you to be so enchanting. Everything about you was perfect. Were you truly a demon? It seemed more fitting to call you a celestial being.

He stared at you with a wide eye, the right words to say completely eluding him. Then, all of a sudden, an intense heat flashed through his left eye. Though it was an extremely strange sensation, it was far from unpleasant. Still, he brought his hand up to his eyepatch out of reflex and you, almost simultaneously, did the same while lowering your head.

When you looked back up at him a few seconds later, hand dropping away from your face, he inhaled sharply at what he saw. Your eyes, which had appeared as those of a human mere moments ago, had now reverted back to their original demonic look, unnaturally vibrant with kanji etched across them. It felt so odd, seeing the eye that had been his since birth returned back to its rightful owner. However, the thing that shocked him most was the rank displayed on your right eye.

Three?!

Out of all the Upper Moons, his soulmate had to be rank three. That meant that as of the current moment, he had the fourth strongest demon in the entire country standing right in front of him.

“Is…Is something wrong…?” You hesitantly asked, not seeming to realize what had happened, but certainly noticing the way he was looking at you.

“Your eyes are, uh…” Still reeling from the shock, Kyōjurō wasn’t quite sure what to say. He tapped a finger against his eyepatch, “I can see your rank.”

Panic flitted over your face at his words and you immediately turned your face away. The next time you look at him, your eyes were back to their human appearance. The two of you stared at each other in silence, each trying to guess the other’s thoughts and waiting for them to speak first. Well, this was turning out to be one very awkward first meeting between soulmates.

“I, err… I apologize that you had to see that?” You ended up being the one to speak first, though you sounded completely uncertain about your own words.

Were you really Upper Moon Three? Were you really a demon that had killed numerous people? Your entire demeanor seemed so… So human-like. Looking at you, all he saw was someone elated at finally meeting their soulmate, someone who wanted to create a good impression and yet was nervous about making a blunder, someone who feared that their soulmate would reject them. All of those were emotions Kyōjurō would attribute to a human, not a demon. He couldn’t even sense a hint of malice from you.

But the memory of the kanji engraved across your eyes flashed through his mind, proving to be a harsh reminder that he couldn’t afford to let his guard down around you. Though he intended to question you about your motives behind acting so docile, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so when he saw your hopeful expression. Quietly clearing his throat, Kyōjurō gave you the brightest smile he could muster. “Come on now, you shouldn’t be apologizing during our first meeting! Besides, you have absolutely no reason to do so in the first place, especially since it was effect of our soulmate bond.”

Your face lit up at his positive response and in that moment, his heart melted. He watched as your gaze then drifted past him, trained on a large, noisy group of people passing by. Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly in annoyance and though he found that simple action to be strangely alluring, he couldn’t help but feel alarmed for their safety. You were a demon after all. Who knew what you were capable of? His hand tensed, ready to draw his katana if needed.

Much to his relief, however, you eventually looked back at him and suggested, “Shall we go to some place quieter, er…?” Trailing off, you tilted your head with a questioning gaze.

It was then that he realized he had yet to give you his name, and you yours. “Ah, I am Kyōjurō Rengoku, the Flame Hashira.” He gave a slight bow as he introduced himself, not missing the way your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Since he knew what rank you were as an Upper Moon, he thought it fair to let you be aware of his position in the Demon Slayer Corps. And if this piece of information changed the way you viewed him – such as being a threat that needed to be eradicated immediately, soulmate bond be damned – then it would be better to get it out in the open now, rather than later.

After a moment, you simply mirrored his bow and said, “It’s such a delight to finally meet you, Kyōjurō. You can call me [Name]. As you might have noticed earlier, I'm Upper Moon Three.”

No surname, he noted. Then again, none of the demons he had encountered before seemed to have one either.

“Well then, [Name]. Shall we?” Kyōjurō extended his hand towards you and upon seeing your puzzled expression, added, “Since it’s very crowded around here, we should try to avoid losing each other.” If neither of you intended to kill each other at that moment, then it would only be proper to behave as a gentleman towards his soulmate.

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with that, then…”

As he began to withdraw his hand, you hurriedly grabbed it. “No no! It’s a good idea.” Your skin felt cool against his own and though you seemed slightly flustered by his sudden suggestion, you also appeared quite thrilled.

Thus, the two of you set off through the heart of the city, remaining hand-in-hand while scouring for a decent place to rest and talk at. Eventually coming upon a teashop with few costumers – which you had pointed out – it was settled between you both to go there.

So there he was, sitting across the table from you with a cup of tea in his hands. You had gotten one for yourself too – much to Kyōjurō’s surprise, as he thought demons were unable to consume human food or drinks. However, whenever you brought your cup up to your mouth, you simply wetted your lips instead of actually drinking the tea. Was this your way of trying to be considerate and make him feel more at ease? Well, he was probably getting ahead of himself, but it certainly made for an unexpected and rather heartwarming thought.

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply taking in each other’s appearance. And then, with your gaze lingering on his uniform, you asked, “Were you in the middle of working?”

Kyōjurō shook his head, taking a sip of tea before replying, “I had actually just finished a mission before we met.”

“Ah, I see…” You pursed your lips, not sure of how else to respond. It must have felt odd for you, hearing a demon slayer – and a Hashira, no less – talk about killing your brethren through a calm conversation over tea. Shifting uncomfortably, you then brought up your next question. “Do you intend to fight me?”

He raised an eyebrow, finding your choice of words interesting. Do you intend to fight me, instead of, do you intend to kill me. Were you implying that you believed yourself to be much stronger than him, therefore there was absolutely no chance that he would be able to kill you? Well, he may have been a mere human, but he was by no means weak.

Although his answer should have been an instant ‘Of course!’, he instead shook his head once more, gripping his cup tightly as he answered, “…Not for now, no.”

Guilt had begun to grip his heart before he’d even finished his sentence. Just saying those four words were like a betrayal to everyone he knew: his mother, father, brother, master, fellow Hashiras, the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps, as well as all of its fallen members. And more importantly, by not killing you the very instant he'd met you, he had turned his back on his position as a Hashira and condemned innocent people to die by your hands in the future. Kyōjurō knew all of this and yet, somehow, for some reason unknown to himself, he couldn’t quite bring himself to kill you.

Clenching his jaw, he didn’t realize just how much strength he’d been putting into holding his cup until it shattered, hot tea spilling over his hands. You gasped, immediately reaching over the table and using your sleeves to wipe the liquid off his skin.

“They’re red.” With a concerned tone and a knitted brow, you carefully took his hands into your own and examined them. “It looks like you didn’t cut yourself, so that’s good.”

When a server hurried over to see what the noise had been about, you requested for some cool water and a clean cloth so that he could soothe his hands. Kyōjurō had tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t a big deal and he felt fine, but you stubbornly insisted.

“Humans are such fragile creatures. You have to take care of yourself or you won’t know what will happen.” You huffed, almost sounding like a nagging spouse. As Kyōjurō let out a small chuckle, you wetted the cloth the server had brought and began gently dabbing it over his reddened skin.

“Please have some faith in me, [Name]. I’m sturdier than you think.”

With a light laugh, you playfully teased, “Right, tell me that after the next time we’re able to have tea without you burning yourself.”

Kyōjurō exchanged an amused smile with you, the mood now more relaxed and lighthearted than before. The two of you continued to chat and though touching on various topics, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the both of you to refrain from bringing up any subjects on the conflict between humans and demons. Time passed quickly and before either of you knew it, dawn was rapidly approaching.

Glancing out the shop’s window, the grin you wore from his joke mere seconds ago began to fade.  “…I should probably get going now.”

Kyōjurō looked out as well and when he saw the sky’s dark beginning to gradually lighten, doubts which he’d managed to distract himself from through his conversations with you started to flood back in. If he wanted to, he could easily try to keep you here until the sun’s first rays were able to reach you. That’s what he should be doing as the Flame Hashira. And yet, something in him held him back. Was it guilt? Sudden fear of losing the soulmate he’d just met? Perplexment at how different you were from how he’d imagined you? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact emotions that prevented him from drawing his blade and all he could do was sit there, watching as you procured a small bag from within your sleeve.

The clinking of coins sounded from within the bag as you plopped it onto the table. His eyes widened when he realized what your intentions and he immediately began reaching for his own money.

“No, please let me-“

You raised your hand to stop him. “I insist. Consider this as my thanks towards you for giving me your time tonight.” The corner of your lips tugged back up into a playful smile at his reluctant expression and you added, “But if it makes you feel better, then you can repay me by meeting up with me again some time. I know your schedule must be busy with the kind of work you do, so when you have the time, come find me at that abandoned shrine near the western outskirts of the city.”

Not waiting for his response, you rose from your seat and bowed in farewell. “Until we meet again, please stay safe, Kyōjurō.”

Though slightly taken aback by your sudden rushed demeanor and having not been able to properly agree to your suggested rendezvous, he quickly got to his feet and bowed in return. “I pray that our next meeting will be as harmonious as this one.”

“…Indeed.” Was all you simply responded with before you hurried out of the shop, now in a race against the rapidly approaching sunrise.

Kyōjurō sat back down as he watched you go and remained there long after you’d left, all the while mulling over the soulmate bond he shared with you and the consequences that would inevitably result from it.

———

“Useless!”

A sake cup smashed against the wall next to Kyōjurō’s head, splattering its contents onto him. He didn’t even so much as flinch, however, simply letting out a soft sigh as he gazed on at his raging father in a steadfast manner.

Shinjurō gritted his teeth, his foul mood further spurred by the irritation he felt towards his eldest son’s calmness. He jabbed a finger towards Kyōjurō’s left eye, which no longer remained hidden away behind an eyepatch. “You come home, flaunting the fact that you’ve met your soulmate, and you’re telling me that you didn’t even kill them? You had an Upper Moon in front of you and you let them go.” Banging his fist on the table in front of him, he raised his voice into a shout. “You let an Upper Moon go! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Then, he suddenly quieted down as quickly as he had began yelling. Letting out a resentful scoff, he sneered at his son. “You’re always sprouting crap about doing your duties as a Hashira and protecting the innocent, but look at you now, going soft over a demon. Well? What rank are they? I bet they’ve killed more people than all of the demons you’ve killed combined.”

Kyōjurō pressed his lips together, knowing that his father was right. Even now, as he sat in front of his father to be berated, he still felt conflicted over his choice of letting you go.

Taking no notice of his silence, Shinjurō took a large swig from his sake bottle before continuing on his rant. “You know, when you were born, I worried that other slayers might call you a traitor. Looks like I worried for nothing, since you really are one now. But who cares, right? Go ahead, continue being a Hashira! Whether you bed a demon or not won’t matter, since every other person in the Corps are fakes, just like you. All their breathing techniques are just cheap imitations.” He grumbled the last part, downing more sake at his rising anger. “And while you’re out there, parading around with your hypocrisy, why don’t you go dragging the Rengoku name through dirt? Help yourself in trampling on the family’s honor too! Go against everything that Ruka-“  

Shinjurō abruptly stopped at the thought of his late wife, a shadow of grief crossing over his face.

“Father-“ Kyōjurō began, only to be interrupted.

“Get out!” The older male snapped as he turned his back to him, emptying his sake bottle in an attempt to numb the old wound left on his heart by his wife’s passing.

Knowing that there was no use trying to carry on their conversation, Kyōjurō rose to his feet.

“Please take care of yourself and try not to overdrink.”

Leaving his father with those words, he exited the room. As he slide the door closed behind himself, a loud shattering noise could be heard coming from within. No doubt it was Shinjurō smashing the sake bottle out of anger towards Kyōjurō’s parting words.

Kyōjurō heaved a deep sigh as he briefly leaned against the wall near the door, tiredly closing his eyes. He’d expected this reaction when he decided to tell his father about his soulmate, but there had been the smallest spark of hope in him that Shinjurō would be more accepting of the news. He couldn’t help but wonder how his mother would have reacted, had she still been with them. Would she be as disapproving as her husband? Or would she have been more accepting and understanding?

“Brother?”

Senjurō’s timid voice suddenly broke his chain of thoughts. Opening his eyes, Kyōjurō pushed himself off against the wall as he smiled brightly at his younger brother. “Senjurō! What brings you here? If you’re looking for Father, I believe he’s just left to buy some more sake. I might have put him in a foul mood, though.”

He let out an awkward laugh and Senjurō shook his head. “I, um… I heard what Father said to you…”

Kyōjurō’s smile faltered for a moment. Well, their father had been loud. It’d be hard not to hear him, even from all the way down the hall. “Ah, pay him no mind. You know how he can get when he drinks.”

“I…I know. But…” The youngest Rengoku fidgeted, wanting to say something but seeming uncertain about it. However, at his brother’s encouraging gaze, he worked up his courage and came out with it. “I-I trust you, Brother! No matter what Father says, if you think what you’re doing is right, then you should keep going with it! Even if Father disapproves, I’m always here to support you!”

Caught off guard by the unexpected consolation, Kyōjurō blinked. His gaze then softened and he reached out, ruffling his brother’s hair. “Thank you, Senjurō. It makes me happy to know that I can rely on you.”

Senjurō’s cheeks reddened and a small, but happy smile appeared on his face. They stayed like that for a minute, enjoying the brief bonding time between brothers. That was, until Senjurō abruptly leaned in and sniffed him. His nose crinkled slightly as he drew back, “You smell very strongly of sake, Brother.”

“Do I?” Brows furrowed, Kyōjurō sniffed the parts of his hair and clothes where sake had gotten splashed onto earlier. “It doesn’t seem very obvious to me.”

With a small laugh, Senjurō shook his head and took hold of his hand, beginning to drag him off to the washroom. “Come on, I’ll help you wash your hair. And while I do that, you can tell me all about your soulmate!”

Kyōjurō obediently followed his younger brother, his lips stretched out into a grin. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, feeling at ease now knowing that no matter what choice he made towards his future with you, Senjurō would always be there for him.  

———

The following week, he met up with you at the abandoned shrine as planned and you had greeted him so happily, as if you hadn’t actually expected him to show up. Though Kyōjurō had arrived feeling uncharacteristically tense, not quite knowing what to anticipate from the rendezvous, the endearing grin you gave him put him a little more at ease.

That night ended up being rather similar to your previous meeting, with the two of you just chatting and getting to know each other further while enjoying a beautiful view of the stars twinkling above. It would have made for a rather romantic date, had Kyōjurō not remained on guard the entire time. He kept his wariness well hidden behind an easy-going smile, ready to defend himself the instant you decided to launch a surprise attack on him. It was true that at that moment, you lacked any animosity towards him. However, demons were fickle creatures who would kill at the simplest flick of a switch and he didn’t know when or if your attitude towards him would change.

But lo and behold, not once did there come a time where Kyōjurō needed to draw his blade and the two of you ended up parting with the promise of another meeting. And thus began the frequent trysts between you and he. With each night he got to spend with you, his guard began to gradually lower and his relaxed façade soon became genuine.

At some point, he stopped wearing his eyepatch whenever he met up with you. While he still wore it around others, like his fellow Hashiras to prevent them from asking questions, he figured there wouldn’t be any harm in going without it around you. It was much more comfortable, plus he could see better, and you seemed to enjoy seeing him without his eyepatch. There were times when he’d find you just randomly gazing into them and when he asked you about it, you told him how you loved his eyes and how comforting they seemed – like warm, gentle flames in which one could easily lose themselves in. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t been flattered by your words.

Being only a city away, the shrine was located at a convenient spot to get together. It was far away enough from the Rengoku estate that someone would have a difficult time following him and finding out about you, and it was close enough to get to – well, it'd be hard for an average person, but Kyōjurō was far from average. Not to mention, it had long been abandoned so people almost never came by. That being said, the two of you began going on dates in the city and the neighboring areas. Night festivals quickly became a favorite date spot for you guys and you'd often go whenever there was one. At some point, it became a mini competition between you to see whom could win the most prizes.

As an avid sumo fan, Kyōjurō would often invite you to watch matches with him. He took no offense when you declined, as everybody had their own preferences. But he’d always be delighted when you went to watch with him. After all, who doesn’t love sharing the things they enjoy with those close to them?

When he told you that he enjoyed eating sweet potatoes and salt grilled bream, he underestimated the effects it would end up having. Not too long after he'd shared that small bit of information with you, you had presented him with a bento you cooked yourself. Kyōjurō eagerly accepted it, touched that you had gone out of your way to make it for him. However, he neglected the fact that you were a demon whom had lived for centuries and hadn’t eaten a single morsel of human food during that time. So when he took a big and unsuspecting bite of your glazed sweet potatoes, he almost died.

Kyōjurō appreciated the fact that you had cooked for him, he really did. But your cooking was, to put it bluntly, absolutely horrible. Glazed potatoes were supposed to be both savory and sweet, not overwhelmingly bitter. Was that also a hint of sourness he tasted?? And the texture. Oh god, the texture. It was a mixture of mushy, hard, and even just pure goop at some parts. He had always thought he’d be able to love every sweet potato dish he came across, no matter how bad they may have tasted. This however… Could it even be classified as edible?

Well, no matter! You had been so proud when you presented it to him and he refused to let anything you gave him go to waste. Once he’d gotten over his initial shock, he finished his bite, gave you a big smile, and shouted his usual ‘Umai!’. Then, he turned his attention onto the included salt grilled bream. It looked good, just like the sweet potatoes had. Question was, would it taste as bad? Though hesitant, he took another bite, albeit much smaller than the previous one. Thank goodness he did, because it was somehow worse than the potatoes. Had you mixed up the salt with sugar? Because eating that one bite of fish was like eating a bowlful of sugar. The flesh was also crunchy and he was certain it wasn’t because of the bones. He was also quite sure you had forgotten to descale the skin before cooking. But just like with the sweet potatoes, he forced himself to gulp it down and attempted to finish the entire bento. It went relatively well, until it didn’t.

“Oh my god, Kyōjurō! You’re turning green!”

With a horrified gasp, you snatched the box away from him. Though he’d tried to take it back, insisting on finishing it, you refused to let go of it. Instead, you had declared that you would keep trying until you were able to create a dish that he would find delicious. And while Kyōjurō was moved that you were determined to put in so much effort for his sake, at the same time, he couldn’t help but dread the impending assault on his tastebuds.

For the next three months, every time he was able to meet up with you, you had a fresh batch of potatoes and fish waiting for him. Sometimes you’d change things up and cook other dishes, but they were always as bad. Kyōjurō still ate them all though. As much as you’d allow him to eat, that was. You didn’t allow yourself to be fooled by his shouts of ‘Umai!’ and would always stare intently at him as he ate. If his eyebrow so much as twitched, he would find his meal gone from his hands in an instant. And finally, the day came when the contents of his bento actually tasted like real food. It was, at best, just enough to be considered as decent, but to Kyōjurō, it was the best thing he’d eaten. He may or may not have shed a happy tear or two, which may not have been a very good idea, as upon seeing that, you were once more filled with determination and had declared that you'd make it your goal to master cooking all of his favorite foods.

———

One night, out of curiosity, Kyōjurō had asked you what your Blood Demon Art was. He hadn’t actually expected you to tell him though. After all, even if the two of you had grown close, you probably wouldn’t want to reveal what your fighting techniques to someone who was technically your enemy. But to his surprise, you’d happily answered and even went as far as to actually show him, withdrawing a pair of mai-ougi* from inside your sleeves. You explained that while the fans themselves were weapons – with the edges being as sharp as a blade – its true power lay in what was painted on them. Each fan had a different painting on them and whenever someone looked at them, they would be hit with different effects depending on which they looked at. To demonstrate, you opened up one and allowed him to take a look.

At first, all Kyōjurō saw was a painting of a woman dancing with a mai-ougi in hand, the background a sky of gold with faint cloud patterns. It was a beautiful painting, but nothing special particularly stood out to him. That’s when it happened; the moment he locked eyes with the woman, his surroundings instantly changed and he found himself on a stage with a golden backdrop, four women with appearances identical to that of the woman in the painting lunging at him from every side. The edge of their fans glinted dangerously and just as he drew his weapon to fend them off, he suddenly found himself back in reality with you, the previously open mai-ougi now closed. You grinned at him as he tried to calm his pounding heart, clearly proud of your Blood Demon Art.

“They’re clearly much better than those metal slabs that Dōma lugs around.” You had proudly proclaimed, although it was more to yourself than to Kyōjurō.

He had no idea who you were talking about but decided not to probe into it when he noticed the extremely fierce look in your eyes. Instead, he asked about the effects of the other fan. Happy to show him your powers once more, you spread open the second fan and revealed a painting of a daimyō* sat atop a pitch-black horse against a blood red background, tessen* in one hand. When Kyōjurō’s gaze met with the one in the painting, rather than finding himself in a different environment, he was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of fear so great that it immobilized him. Now, Kyōjurō was not a man who would typically freeze from fear. And yet, it took a great deal of willpower to even just move his eyes enough to tear them off the painting and free himself of its effects.

If there was one thing he had to say about your Blood Demon Art, it was that it was as every bit dangerous and powerful as he’d imagined, if not more. Though the painting had influenced him for no more than a few seconds, to him it’d felt like much, much longer. Had he been in a real battle with you, he most likely would have died the moment he froze up. Or who knows? Maybe his survival instincts would have kicked in and override the mai-ougi’s powers. Well, battle or not, it was good to know what exactly you were capable of.

Once Kyōjurō had regained his composure, you suggested that the two of you have a sparring match –with you fighting with your fans closed, of course. He immediately accepted, not wanting to waste the opportunity of being able to fight against an Upper Moon without it being a life-or-death situation. In the end, he lost the spar as expected. However, he found his loss to be an extremely fruitful one, as he’d been able to notice the weak points in his own fighting style much quicker than he normally would have by sparring with his fellow Hashiras.

Needless to say, it quickly became a common thing for the two of you to have random sparring sessions. Sometimes you’d be on the offensive with him on the defensive, and vice versa. Either way, Kyōjurō would always be able to learn a thing or two from each spar and you would also give him advice from time to time. Although you hardly gained anything from doing this – maybe except for familiarizing yourself with the Flame Breathing style – you were always more than happy to spar with him, glad that you could help him get even stronger.

———

Kyōjurō truly enjoyed spending time with you, cherishing every moment he could. Yet, no matter how many happy nights he shared with you, he couldn’t ignore the guilt that had rooted itself so deeply into his heart. Guilt that he felt towards neglecting part of his duties and at the thoughts of how many people fell prey to you the longer he left you alive. It became someone of a frequent occurrence for him to remain awake for hours during the times he was supposed to sleep, plagued with all sorts of gut-wrenching emotions. But no matter how much the guilt continued to pile up, he couldn’t bring himself to kill you. He finally understood now, what it truly meant to have a soulmate.

A soulmate wasn’t someone whom the universe had randomly picked out for him and whom he was obligated to love. A soulmate was someone who complemented him better than anyone else out there, who understood him and accepted him for everything he was, who stood by and supported him, and so much more. His better half, if you will. The universe was only there to help make identifying his soulmate easier; it was up to him whether he chose to love you or not. And Kyōjurō did. He loved you.

He didn’t know exactly when he had begun to fall in love, but by the time he realized it, he was in too deep to turn back.

He could still remember how clear the sky had been, each star twinkling like jewels and the full moon’s light bathing everything in a soft silvery glow. The two of you were on the shrine’s engawa to admire the view, his head resting in your lap and your fingers running through his hair. A comfortable silence filled the air between both of you with the occasional chirping of crickets being heard from off in the distance.

Basking in the peacefulness of everything, he closed his eyes in bliss. You continued to run your fingers through his hair for a short while, stopping when you quietly spoke, “…Kyōjurō?”

He hummed softly in response.

“I love you.”

Kyojruo’s eyes snapped open and when he looked up at you, he found you gazing down at him with a tender expression. Well, that was certainly one very sudden confession. Though the two of you had been intimate with each other for a while now – such as being physically affectionate, going on dates, and even buying gifts for each other that only couples would normally exchange – neither of you had ever vocalized your feelings towards each other. Even then, while he’d acknowledged to himself that he liked you, he never quite dwelled on the thought of whether he loved you. After all, it would unacceptable if he, a slayer of demons, were to fall in love with a demon, wouldn’t it?

And yet, after hearing your words, he knew without needing to think about it or question himself.

Sitting up, he brought a hand up to your cheek and gently caressed it, leaning in until your lips were almost touching. He paused, wanting to give you time to push him away in case you didn’t want this. All you did, however, was lean in into his touch as your eyes fluttered closed with anticipation. That’s when Kyōjurō closed the remaining space between the two of you, softly pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were cold against his, just like the rest of your body. But as you kissed him back, all he felt was a gentle, yet passionate warmth. In that moment, he let all his doubts and concerns melt away, instead allowing himself to be overtaken by his feelings for you and conveying those emotions through the kiss.

Eventually pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes with adoration as he softly murmured, “And I love you, [Name].”

———

*Mai-ougi are folding fans used in traditional Japanese dances *Daimyō were feudal lords who used to serve under the shogun *Tessen are also known as Japanese war fans and have varying looks and purposes

[higanbana-writer]

@kyojuro-ska

[higanbana-writer]

Wavering Gaze

Pairing: Kyōjurō x Gn!Upper Moon!Reader Prompt: [Soulmate AU where one of your eyes is the same color as your soulmate’s.] Kyōjurō has finally met his soulmate. But what was he supposed to do when you're an Upper Moon and he, a Hashira? C/N: Just Shinjurō being an ass during his brief screentime. A/N: Hoo boy. I was originally going to just make this a two part series, but I got a bit carried away and the 'second' part ended up being waaaay too long. So, three parts it is! Part: 1, 2, 3 (coming soon)

“Follow your heart, Kyōjurō.”

Those had been his mother’s last words to him and Kyōjurō knew that she’d been referring to his soulmate. How could he not? Though he had been but a mere child then, he could still notice all the grief his mismatched eyes caused his parents – namely his father. He saw how often Shinjurō would cast subtle glances at the eyepatch that hid his soulmate’s eye from the world. A conflicted expression would always rest upon his face whenever he did so, although Kyōjurō could never tell what exactly lay behind it. And he noticed it, how often his father would remind him more than he did with Senjurō, that demons were the enemy who preyed on the innocent and deserved no mercy. But he didn’t mind the extra reminders, always wholeheartedly agreeing with him.  

So, why had his mother left him with those final words? He’d always clearly expressed that he had every intention of following in his father’s footsteps to become the next Flame Hashira, and in doing so, rejected the very notion of his soulmate. Every time he picked up his practice sword to train, with the sole goal of being able to protect the weak, he was following his heart. Not once had he wavered over what he should be doing. So…why? He had puzzled over her words for the longest times.

He never harbored any grievances towards the fact that his soulmate was an Upper Moon. Sure, hiding his eye all the time was a bit tiring and troublesome, but it wasn’t your fault. After all, it hadn’t been as if you’d specifically picked him to be your soulmate. And it weren’t as if you had caused him or his family any harm. He had absolutely no reason to hold any personal grudges against you.

As a matter of fact, even though he’d see your eye reflected back at him on the occasions that he’d take off his eyepatch and gaze into the mirror, he always felt a strange sort of detachment. To him, you were simply a demon whom had taken many lives and needed to be killed for the future safety of many others. Perhaps your eternal life would be ended by a demon slayer before the two of you would ever meet, or perhaps Kyōjurō himself would be the one to end you. Soulmate or not, it was his duty to protect all the precious human lives out there from the likes of your kind.

At least, that’s what he’d told himself throughout his entire life. And yet, as you stood there before him, hesitant but captivating smile on your lips, all of that shattered into tiny pieces.

Kyōjurō had wondered from time to time about what you would look like, but never did he expect you to be so enchanting. Everything about you was perfect. Were you truly a demon? It seemed more fitting to call you a celestial being.

He stared at you with a wide eye, the right words to say completely eluding him. Then, all of a sudden, an intense heat flashed through his left eye. Though it was an extremely strange sensation, it was far from unpleasant. Still, he brought his hand up to his eyepatch out of reflex and you, almost simultaneously, did the same while lowering your head.

When you looked back up at him a few seconds later, hand dropping away from your face, he inhaled sharply at what he saw. Your eyes, which had appeared as those of a human mere moments ago, had now reverted back to their original demonic look, unnaturally vibrant with kanji etched across them. It felt so odd, seeing the eye that had been his since birth returned back to its rightful owner. However, the thing that shocked him most was the rank displayed on your right eye.

Three?!

Out of all the Upper Moons, his soulmate had to be rank three. That meant that as of the current moment, he had the fourth strongest demon in the entire country standing right in front of him.

“Is…Is something wrong…?” You hesitantly asked, not seeming to realize what had happened, but certainly noticing the way he was looking at you.

“Your eyes are, uh…” Still reeling from the shock, Kyōjurō wasn’t quite sure what to say. He tapped a finger against his eyepatch, “I can see your rank.”

Panic flitted over your face at his words and you immediately turned your face away. The next time you look at him, your eyes were back to their human appearance. The two of you stared at each other in silence, each trying to guess the other’s thoughts and waiting for them to speak first. Well, this was turning out to be one very awkward first meeting between soulmates.

“I, err… I apologize that you had to see that?” You ended up being the one to speak first, though you sounded completely uncertain about your own words.

Were you really Upper Moon Three? Were you really a demon that had killed numerous people? Your entire demeanor seemed so… So human-like. Looking at you, all he saw was someone elated at finally meeting their soulmate, someone who wanted to create a good impression and yet was nervous about making a blunder, someone who feared that their soulmate would reject them. All of those were emotions Kyōjurō would attribute to a human, not a demon. He couldn’t even sense a hint of malice from you.

But the memory of the kanji engraved across your eyes flashed through his mind, proving to be a harsh reminder that he couldn’t afford to let his guard down around you. Though he intended to question you about your motives behind acting so docile, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so when he saw your hopeful expression. Quietly clearing his throat, Kyōjurō gave you the brightest smile he could muster. “Come on now, you shouldn’t be apologizing during our first meeting! Besides, you have absolutely no reason to do so in the first place, especially since it was effect of our soulmate bond.”

Your face lit up at his positive response and in that moment, his heart melted. He watched as your gaze then drifted past him, trained on a large, noisy group of people passing by. Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly in annoyance and though he found that simple action to be strangely alluring, he couldn’t help but feel alarmed for their safety. You were a demon after all. Who knew what you were capable of? His hand tensed, ready to draw his katana if needed.

Much to his relief, however, you eventually looked back at him and suggested, “Shall we go to some place quieter, er…?” Trailing off, you tilted your head with a questioning gaze.

It was then that he realized he had yet to give you his name, and you yours. “Ah, I am Kyōjurō Rengoku, the Flame Hashira.” He gave a slight bow as he introduced himself, not missing the way your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Since he knew what rank you were as an Upper Moon, he thought it fair to let you be aware of his position in the Demon Slayer Corps. And if this piece of information changed the way you viewed him – such as being a threat that needed to be eradicated immediately, soulmate bond be damned – then it would be better to get it out in the open now, rather than later.

After a moment, you simply mirrored his bow and said, “It’s such a delight to finally meet you, Kyōjurō. You can call me [Name]. As you might have noticed earlier, I'm Upper Moon Three.”

No surname, he noted. Then again, none of the demons he had encountered before seemed to have one either.

“Well then, [Name]. Shall we?” Kyōjurō extended his hand towards you and upon seeing your puzzled expression, added, “Since it’s very crowded around here, we should try to avoid losing each other.” If neither of you intended to kill each other at that moment, then it would only be proper to behave as a gentleman towards his soulmate.

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with that, then…”

As he began to withdraw his hand, you hurriedly grabbed it. “No no! It’s a good idea.” Your skin felt cool against his own and though you seemed slightly flustered by his sudden suggestion, you also appeared quite thrilled.

Thus, the two of you set off through the heart of the city, remaining hand-in-hand while scouring for a decent place to rest and talk at. Eventually coming upon a teashop with few costumers – which you had pointed out – it was settled between you both to go there.

So there he was, sitting across the table from you with a cup of tea in his hands. You had gotten one for yourself too – much to Kyōjurō’s surprise, as he thought demons were unable to consume human food or drinks. However, whenever you brought your cup up to your mouth, you simply wetted your lips instead of actually drinking the tea. Was this your way of trying to be considerate and make him feel more at ease? Well, he was probably getting ahead of himself, but it certainly made for an unexpected and rather heartwarming thought.

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply taking in each other’s appearance. And then, with your gaze lingering on his uniform, you asked, “Were you in the middle of working?”

Kyōjurō shook his head, taking a sip of tea before replying, “I had actually just finished a mission before we met.”

“Ah, I see…” You pursed your lips, not sure of how else to respond. It must have felt odd for you, hearing a demon slayer – and a Hashira, no less – talk about killing your brethren through a calm conversation over tea. Shifting uncomfortably, you then brought up your next question. “Do you intend to fight me?”

He raised an eyebrow, finding your choice of words interesting. Do you intend to fight me, instead of, do you intend to kill me. Were you implying that you believed yourself to be much stronger than him, therefore there was absolutely no chance that he would be able to kill you? Well, he may have been a mere human, but he was by no means weak.

Although his answer should have been an instant ‘Of course!’, he instead shook his head once more, gripping his cup tightly as he answered, “…Not for now, no.”

Guilt had begun to grip his heart before he’d even finished his sentence. Just saying those four words were like a betrayal to everyone he knew: his mother, father, brother, master, fellow Hashiras, the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps, as well as all of its fallen members. And more importantly, by not killing you the very instant he'd met you, he had turned his back on his position as a Hashira and condemned innocent people to die by your hands in the future. Kyōjurō knew all of this and yet, somehow, for some reason unknown to himself, he couldn’t quite bring himself to kill you.

Clenching his jaw, he didn’t realize just how much strength he’d been putting into holding his cup until it shattered, hot tea spilling over his hands. You gasped, immediately reaching over the table and using your sleeves to wipe the liquid off his skin.

“They’re red.” With a concerned tone and a knitted brow, you carefully took his hands into your own and examined them. “It looks like you didn’t cut yourself, so that’s good.”

When a server hurried over to see what the noise had been about, you requested for some cool water and a clean cloth so that he could soothe his hands. Kyōjurō had tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t a big deal and he felt fine, but you stubbornly insisted.

“Humans are such fragile creatures. You have to take care of yourself or you won’t know what will happen.” You huffed, almost sounding like a nagging spouse. As Kyōjurō let out a small chuckle, you wetted the cloth the server had brought and began gently dabbing it over his reddened skin.

“Please have some faith in me, [Name]. I’m sturdier than you think.”

With a light laugh, you playfully teased, “Right, tell me that after the next time we’re able to have tea without you burning yourself.”

Kyōjurō exchanged an amused smile with you, the mood now more relaxed and lighthearted than before. The two of you continued to chat and though touching on various topics, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the both of you to refrain from bringing up any subjects on the conflict between humans and demons. Time passed quickly and before either of you knew it, dawn was rapidly approaching.

Glancing out the shop’s window, the grin you wore from his joke mere seconds ago began to fade.  “…I should probably get going now.”

Kyōjurō looked out as well and when he saw the sky’s dark beginning to gradually lighten, doubts which he’d managed to distract himself from through his conversations with you started to flood back in. If he wanted to, he could easily try to keep you here until the sun’s first rays were able to reach you. That’s what he should be doing as the Flame Hashira. And yet, something in him held him back. Was it guilt? Sudden fear of losing the soulmate he’d just met? Perplexment at how different you were from how he’d imagined you? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact emotions that prevented him from drawing his blade and all he could do was sit there, watching as you procured a small bag from within your sleeve.

The clinking of coins sounded from within the bag as you plopped it onto the table. His eyes widened when he realized what your intentions and he immediately began reaching for his own money.

“No, please let me-“

You raised your hand to stop him. “I insist. Consider this as my thanks towards you for giving me your time tonight.” The corner of your lips tugged back up into a playful smile at his reluctant expression and you added, “But if it makes you feel better, then you can repay me by meeting up with me again some time. I know your schedule must be busy with the kind of work you do, so when you have the time, come find me at that abandoned shrine near the western outskirts of the city.”

Not waiting for his response, you rose from your seat and bowed in farewell. “Until we meet again, please stay safe, Kyōjurō.”

Though slightly taken aback by your sudden rushed demeanor and having not been able to properly agree to your suggested rendezvous, he quickly got to his feet and bowed in return. “I pray that our next meeting will be as harmonious as this one.”

“…Indeed.” Was all you simply responded with before you hurried out of the shop, now in a race against the rapidly approaching sunrise.

Kyōjurō sat back down as he watched you go and remained there long after you’d left, all the while mulling over the soulmate bond he shared with you and the consequences that would inevitably result from it.

———

“Useless!”

A sake cup smashed against the wall next to Kyōjurō’s head, splattering its contents onto him. He didn’t even so much as flinch, however, simply letting out a soft sigh as he gazed on at his raging father in a steadfast manner.

Shinjurō gritted his teeth, his foul mood further spurred by the irritation he felt towards his eldest son’s calmness. He jabbed a finger towards Kyōjurō’s left eye, which no longer remained hidden away behind an eyepatch. “You come home, flaunting the fact that you’ve met your soulmate, and you’re telling me that you didn’t even kill them? You had an Upper Moon in front of you and you let them go.” Banging his fist on the table in front of him, he raised his voice into a shout. “You let an Upper Moon go! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Then, he suddenly quieted down as quickly as he had began yelling. Letting out a resentful scoff, he sneered at his son. “You’re always sprouting crap about doing your duties as a Hashira and protecting the innocent, but look at you now, going soft over a demon. Well? What rank are they? I bet they’ve killed more people than all of the demons you’ve killed combined.”

Kyōjurō pressed his lips together, knowing that his father was right. Even now, as he sat in front of his father to be berated, he still felt conflicted over his choice of letting you go.

Taking no notice of his silence, Shinjurō took a large swig from his sake bottle before continuing on his rant. “You know, when you were born, I worried that other slayers might call you a traitor. Looks like I worried for nothing, since you really are one now. But who cares, right? Go ahead, continue being a Hashira! Whether you bed a demon or not won’t matter, since every other person in the Corps are fakes, just like you. All their breathing techniques are just cheap imitations.” He grumbled the last part, downing more sake at his rising anger. “And while you’re out there, parading around with your hypocrisy, why don’t you go dragging the Rengoku name through dirt? Help yourself in trampling on the family’s honor too! Go against everything that Ruka-“  

Shinjurō abruptly stopped at the thought of his late wife, a shadow of grief crossing over his face.

“Father-“ Kyōjurō began, only to be interrupted.

“Get out!” The older male snapped as he turned his back to him, emptying his sake bottle in an attempt to numb the old wound left on his heart by his wife’s passing.

Knowing that there was no use trying to carry on their conversation, Kyōjurō rose to his feet.

“Please take care of yourself and try not to overdrink.”

Leaving his father with those words, he exited the room. As he slide the door closed behind himself, a loud shattering noise could be heard coming from within. No doubt it was Shinjurō smashing the sake bottle out of anger towards Kyōjurō’s parting words.

Kyōjurō heaved a deep sigh as he briefly leaned against the wall near the door, tiredly closing his eyes. He’d expected this reaction when he decided to tell his father about his soulmate, but there had been the smallest spark of hope in him that Shinjurō would be more accepting of the news. He couldn’t help but wonder how his mother would have reacted, had she still been with them. Would she be as disapproving as her husband? Or would she have been more accepting and understanding?

“Brother?”

Senjurō’s timid voice suddenly broke his chain of thoughts. Opening his eyes, Kyōjurō pushed himself off against the wall as he smiled brightly at his younger brother. “Senjurō! What brings you here? If you’re looking for Father, I believe he’s just left to buy some more sake. I might have put him in a foul mood, though.”

He let out an awkward laugh and Senjurō shook his head. “I, um… I heard what Father said to you…”

Kyōjurō’s smile faltered for a moment. Well, their father had been loud. It’d be hard not to hear him, even from all the way down the hall. “Ah, pay him no mind. You know how he can get when he drinks.”

“I…I know. But…” The youngest Rengoku fidgeted, wanting to say something but seeming uncertain about it. However, at his brother’s encouraging gaze, he worked up his courage and came out with it. “I-I trust you, Brother! No matter what Father says, if you think what you’re doing is right, then you should keep going with it! Even if Father disapproves, I’m always here to support you!”

Caught off guard by the unexpected consolation, Kyōjurō blinked. His gaze then softened and he reached out, ruffling his brother’s hair. “Thank you, Senjurō. It makes me happy to know that I can rely on you.”

Senjurō’s cheeks reddened and a small, but happy smile appeared on his face. They stayed like that for a minute, enjoying the brief bonding time between brothers. That was, until Senjurō abruptly leaned in and sniffed him. His nose crinkled slightly as he drew back, “You smell very strongly of sake, Brother.”

“Do I?” Brows furrowed, Kyōjurō sniffed the parts of his hair and clothes where sake had gotten splashed onto earlier. “It doesn’t seem very obvious to me.”

With a small laugh, Senjurō shook his head and took hold of his hand, beginning to drag him off to the washroom. “Come on, I’ll help you wash your hair. And while I do that, you can tell me all about your soulmate!”

Kyōjurō obediently followed his younger brother, his lips stretched out into a grin. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, feeling at ease now knowing that no matter what choice he made towards his future with you, Senjurō would always be there for him.  

———

The following week, he met up with you at the abandoned shrine as planned and you had greeted him so happily, as if you hadn’t actually expected him to show up. Though Kyōjurō had arrived feeling uncharacteristically tense, not quite knowing what to anticipate from the rendezvous, the endearing grin you gave him put him a little more at ease.

That night ended up being rather similar to your previous meeting, with the two of you just chatting and getting to know each other further while enjoying a beautiful view of the stars twinkling above. It would have made for a rather romantic date, had Kyōjurō not remained on guard the entire time. He kept his wariness well hidden behind an easy-going smile, ready to defend himself the instant you decided to launch a surprise attack on him. It was true that at that moment, you lacked any animosity towards him. However, demons were fickle creatures who would kill at the simplest flick of a switch and he didn’t know when or if your attitude towards him would change.

But lo and behold, not once did there come a time where Kyōjurō needed to draw his blade and the two of you ended up parting with the promise of another meeting. And thus began the frequent trysts between you and he. With each night he got to spend with you, his guard began to gradually lower and his relaxed façade soon became genuine.

At some point, he stopped wearing his eyepatch whenever he met up with you. While he still wore it around others, like his fellow Hashiras to prevent them from asking questions, he figured there wouldn’t be any harm in going without it around you. It was much more comfortable, plus he could see better, and you seemed to enjoy seeing him without his eyepatch. There were times when he’d find you just randomly gazing into them and when he asked you about it, you told him how you loved his eyes and how comforting they seemed – like warm, gentle flames in which one could easily lose themselves in. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t been flattered by your words.

Being only a city away, the shrine was located at a convenient spot to get together. It was far away enough from the Rengoku estate that someone would have a difficult time following him and finding out about you, and it was close enough to get to – well, it'd be hard for an average person, but Kyōjurō was far from average. Not to mention, it had long been abandoned so people almost never came by. That being said, the two of you began going on dates in the city and the neighboring areas. Night festivals quickly became a favorite date spot for you guys and you'd often go whenever there was one. At some point, it became a mini competition between you to see whom could win the most prizes.

As an avid sumo fan, Kyōjurō would often invite you to watch matches with him. He took no offense when you declined, as everybody had their own preferences. But he’d always be delighted when you went to watch with him. After all, who doesn’t love sharing the things they enjoy with those close to them?

When he told you that he enjoyed eating sweet potatoes and salt grilled bream, he underestimated the effects it would end up having. Not too long after he'd shared that small bit of information with you, you had presented him with a bento you cooked yourself. Kyōjurō eagerly accepted it, touched that you had gone out of your way to make it for him. However, he neglected the fact that you were a demon whom had lived for centuries and hadn’t eaten a single morsel of human food during that time. So when he took a big and unsuspecting bite of your glazed sweet potatoes, he almost died.

Kyōjurō appreciated the fact that you had cooked for him, he really did. But your cooking was, to put it bluntly, absolutely horrible. Glazed potatoes were supposed to be both savory and sweet, not overwhelmingly bitter. Was that also a hint of sourness he tasted?? And the texture. Oh god, the texture. It was a mixture of mushy, hard, and even just pure goop at some parts. He had always thought he’d be able to love every sweet potato dish he came across, no matter how bad they may have tasted. This however… Could it even be classified as edible?

Well, no matter! You had been so proud when you presented it to him and he refused to let anything you gave him go to waste. Once he’d gotten over his initial shock, he finished his bite, gave you a big smile, and shouted his usual ‘Umai!’. Then, he turned his attention onto the included salt grilled bream. It looked good, just like the sweet potatoes had. Question was, would it taste as bad? Though hesitant, he took another bite, albeit much smaller than the previous one. Thank goodness he did, because it was somehow worse than the potatoes. Had you mixed up the salt with sugar? Because eating that one bite of fish was like eating a bowlful of sugar. The flesh was also crunchy and he was certain it wasn’t because of the bones. He was also quite sure you had forgotten to descale the skin before cooking. But just like with the sweet potatoes, he forced himself to gulp it down and attempted to finish the entire bento. It went relatively well, until it didn’t.

“Oh my god, Kyōjurō! You’re turning green!”

With a horrified gasp, you snatched the box away from him. Though he’d tried to take it back, insisting on finishing it, you refused to let go of it. Instead, you had declared that you would keep trying until you were able to create a dish that he would find delicious. And while Kyōjurō was moved that you were determined to put in so much effort for his sake, at the same time, he couldn’t help but dread the impending assault on his tastebuds.

For the next three months, every time he was able to meet up with you, you had a fresh batch of potatoes and fish waiting for him. Sometimes you’d change things up and cook other dishes, but they were always as bad. Kyōjurō still ate them all though. As much as you’d allow him to eat, that was. You didn’t allow yourself to be fooled by his shouts of ‘Umai!’ and would always stare intently at him as he ate. If his eyebrow so much as twitched, he would find his meal gone from his hands in an instant. And finally, the day came when the contents of his bento actually tasted like real food. It was, at best, just enough to be considered as decent, but to Kyōjurō, it was the best thing he’d eaten. He may or may not have shed a happy tear or two, which may not have been a very good idea, as upon seeing that, you were once more filled with determination and had declared that you'd make it your goal to master cooking all of his favorite foods.

———

One night, out of curiosity, Kyōjurō had asked you what your Blood Demon Art was. He hadn’t actually expected you to tell him though. After all, even if the two of you had grown close, you probably wouldn’t want to reveal what your fighting techniques to someone who was technically your enemy. But to his surprise, you’d happily answered and even went as far as to actually show him, withdrawing a pair of mai-ougi* from inside your sleeves. You explained that while the fans themselves were weapons – with the edges being as sharp as a blade – its true power lay in what was painted on them. Each fan had a different painting on them and whenever someone looked at them, they would be hit with different effects depending on which they looked at. To demonstrate, you opened up one and allowed him to take a look.

At first, all Kyōjurō saw was a painting of a woman dancing with a mai-ougi in hand, the background a sky of gold with faint cloud patterns. It was a beautiful painting, but nothing special particularly stood out to him. That’s when it happened; the moment he locked eyes with the woman, his surroundings instantly changed and he found himself on a stage with a golden backdrop, four women with appearances identical to that of the woman in the painting lunging at him from every side. The edge of their fans glinted dangerously and just as he drew his weapon to fend them off, he suddenly found himself back in reality with you, the previously open mai-ougi now closed. You grinned at him as he tried to calm his pounding heart, clearly proud of your Blood Demon Art.

“They’re clearly much better than those metal slabs that Dōma lugs around.” You had proudly proclaimed, although it was more to yourself than to Kyōjurō.

He had no idea who you were talking about but decided not to probe into it when he noticed the extremely fierce look in your eyes. Instead, he asked about the effects of the other fan. Happy to show him your powers once more, you spread open the second fan and revealed a painting of a daimyō* sat atop a pitch-black horse against a blood red background, tessen* in one hand. When Kyōjurō’s gaze met with the one in the painting, rather than finding himself in a different environment, he was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of fear so great that it immobilized him. Now, Kyōjurō was not a man who would typically freeze from fear. And yet, it took a great deal of willpower to even just move his eyes enough to tear them off the painting and free himself of its effects.

If there was one thing he had to say about your Blood Demon Art, it was that it was as every bit dangerous and powerful as he’d imagined, if not more. Though the painting had influenced him for no more than a few seconds, to him it’d felt like much, much longer. Had he been in a real battle with you, he most likely would have died the moment he froze up. Or who knows? Maybe his survival instincts would have kicked in and override the mai-ougi’s powers. Well, battle or not, it was good to know what exactly you were capable of.

Once Kyōjurō had regained his composure, you suggested that the two of you have a sparring match –with you fighting with your fans closed, of course. He immediately accepted, not wanting to waste the opportunity of being able to fight against an Upper Moon without it being a life-or-death situation. In the end, he lost the spar as expected. However, he found his loss to be an extremely fruitful one, as he’d been able to notice the weak points in his own fighting style much quicker than he normally would have by sparring with his fellow Hashiras.

Needless to say, it quickly became a common thing for the two of you to have random sparring sessions. Sometimes you’d be on the offensive with him on the defensive, and vice versa. Either way, Kyōjurō would always be able to learn a thing or two from each spar and you would also give him advice from time to time. Although you hardly gained anything from doing this – maybe except for familiarizing yourself with the Flame Breathing style – you were always more than happy to spar with him, glad that you could help him get even stronger.

———

Kyōjurō truly enjoyed spending time with you, cherishing every moment he could. Yet, no matter how many happy nights he shared with you, he couldn’t ignore the guilt that had rooted itself so deeply into his heart. Guilt that he felt towards neglecting part of his duties and at the thoughts of how many people fell prey to you the longer he left you alive. It became someone of a frequent occurrence for him to remain awake for hours during the times he was supposed to sleep, plagued with all sorts of gut-wrenching emotions. But no matter how much the guilt continued to pile up, he couldn’t bring himself to kill you. He finally understood now, what it truly meant to have a soulmate.

A soulmate wasn’t someone whom the universe had randomly picked out for him and whom he was obligated to love. A soulmate was someone who complemented him better than anyone else out there, who understood him and accepted him for everything he was, who stood by and supported him, and so much more. His better half, if you will. The universe was only there to help make identifying his soulmate easier; it was up to him whether he chose to love you or not. And Kyōjurō did. He loved you.

He didn’t know exactly when he had begun to fall in love, but by the time he realized it, he was in too deep to turn back.

He could still remember how clear the sky had been, each star twinkling like jewels and the full moon’s light bathing everything in a soft silvery glow. The two of you were on the shrine’s engawa to admire the view, his head resting in your lap and your fingers running through his hair. A comfortable silence filled the air between both of you with the occasional chirping of crickets being heard from off in the distance.

Basking in the peacefulness of everything, he closed his eyes in bliss. You continued to run your fingers through his hair for a short while, stopping when you quietly spoke, “…Kyōjurō?”

He hummed softly in response.

“I love you.”

Kyojruo’s eyes snapped open and when he looked up at you, he found you gazing down at him with a tender expression. Well, that was certainly one very sudden confession. Though the two of you had been intimate with each other for a while now – such as being physically affectionate, going on dates, and even buying gifts for each other that only couples would normally exchange – neither of you had ever vocalized your feelings towards each other. Even then, while he’d acknowledged to himself that he liked you, he never quite dwelled on the thought of whether he loved you. After all, it would unacceptable if he, a slayer of demons, were to fall in love with a demon, wouldn’t it?

And yet, after hearing your words, he knew without needing to think about it or question himself.

Sitting up, he brought a hand up to your cheek and gently caressed it, leaning in until your lips were almost touching. He paused, wanting to give you time to push him away in case you didn’t want this. All you did, however, was lean in into his touch as your eyes fluttered closed with anticipation. That’s when Kyōjurō closed the remaining space between the two of you, softly pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were cold against his, just like the rest of your body. But as you kissed him back, all he felt was a gentle, yet passionate warmth. In that moment, he let all his doubts and concerns melt away, instead allowing himself to be overtaken by his feelings for you and conveying those emotions through the kiss.

Eventually pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes with adoration as he softly murmured, “And I love you, [Name].”

———

*Mai-ougi are folding fans used in traditional Japanese dances *Daimyō were feudal lords who used to serve under the shogun *Tessen are also known as Japanese war fans and have varying looks and purposes

[higanbana-writer]

Accidentally Scaring Them

Characters: Kyōjurō, Zenitsu, and Tanjirō A/N: Inspired by that time I scared myself when I saw my own reflection at night, face hidden behind a curtain of hair like Sadako from The Ring, lol.

Chirk.

The match struck against its box, setting itself alight and softly illuminating the dark room. You held it over the candle you’d set up on the table centered in the room, careful to not let the wig you were wearing catch fire. Once the candle had been lit, you put the match out and grab your hand mirror. In it, you could see your deathly pale complexion, gaunt cheeks, and dark circles under your eyes. Of course, everything you saw in your reflection was nothing more than the work of makeup, done by Shinobu herself.

Earlier that day, she’d sought you out for help in scaring Giyū. During a recent meeting of the Hashira, Mitsuri had mentioned how it was almost that time of the year for the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons to start, and Shinobu had gotten inspired by it. Her plan was to have some people – namely you and Kanao – dress up as traditional ghosts and scare the living daylights out of the poor Water Hashira.

You had agreed to let her dress you up and the prank ended up going rather well. It certainly hadn’t been fun for Giyū, suddenly being approached by two ghostly figures while walking down a desolate alley; even though he hadn’t screamed or anything of that sort, you saw how he blanched and the way all life left his eyes. Shinobu had a blast though, popping up behind Giyū shortly after and almost giving him a heart attack.

And with the day now over, you’d returned back to your room, still dressed in your costume. But before you removed your makeup and changed clothes, you wanted to admire your ghastly appearance for one last time. Holding your mirror at different angles, you had to admit, Shinobu did a great job at making you look terrifying. To add on to the makeup she’d done, she made you wear a wig with extremely long, black hair and don on a simple white kimono. Very traditional indeed.

Wanting to experiment with your current attire, you moved all of the hair from your wig to the front, fully covering your face. At that moment, you heard your door slide open and your beloved calling your name as he entered your room.

---

Kyōjurō Rengoku

- “Oh, I’m sorry.”

- Kyōjurō apologizes like he’s just walked into the wrong room and immediately steps right back out, politely sliding the door closed. He stands there for a good half minute, trying to process what he just saw.

- That was your room he just walked into, right?

- After double checking, he confirms that indeed, it is your room. Huh, either it’s haunted or he’s seeing things. Well, it has been an extremely long day for him. Maybe he’s more tired than he thought and really is just seeing things.

- Figuring that there’ll be nothing there when he looks again, he opens the door.

- Annnnnd, he comes face to face with a curtain of black hair, the flickering candle on the table casting an eerie glow in the background.

- A smile freezes on his face as his soul promptly evacuates his body.

- “….Kyōjurō?”

- You wave a hand in front of him and receive no response. It isn’t until you part your wig and reveal your face to get a proper look at him, that he snaps back into motion.

- “It was you, [Name]? I got startled for a moment there.”

- With a shaky laugh, a look of utter relief enters his eyes as he wraps his arms around you. At least he can rest assured now that your room isn’t haunted.

- Maybe he should suggest that you add more candles in your room.

---

Zenitsu Agatsuma

- He lets out the shrillest scream you’ve ever heard come out of him. Honestly, it’d be a miracle if his vocal chords still worked after this.

- “Zenitsu-“ You begin as you rise to your feet.

- Bad move.

- “GYAAAA, IT KNOWS MY NAAAAAAME!!!”

- May your eardrums rest in peace. Somehow, he gets even louder and before you can even blink, he's out cold on the floor.

- Of course, due to all the commotion he made, other residents of the Butterfly Mansion come flocking to your room in no time. You explain what happened and unsurprisingly, nobody is shocked, all but used to Zenitsu’s antics by now.

- Shinobu gets a great laugh out of the situation. Not only were you able to scare Giyū, but Zenitsu as well. An unexpected, but great bonus!

- After Zenitsu wakes up, he immediately begins clinging to you like a piece of gum stuck in your hair. No matter where you go, he’s right there with you. Even when you tell him – multiple times at that – that the ‘ghost’ he saw had simply been you dressed up as one, he refuses to let you out of his sight.

- Seeing how scary your ghost costume was must have traumatized him, as it took him an entire week to tentatively venture away from your side. And even then, he refused to walk through the mansion alone at night for the following couple of months.

- You made a note to never, ever dress up as a ghost again while within Zenitsu’s vicinity.

---

Tanjirō Kamado

- The two of you stare at each other for a moment.

- Well, it was more like Tanjirō stared at you while you did your best to squint past all the hair. Then, all of a sudden, he rushes over like a solicitor on a mission. He kneels down across the table from you, his back straight and hands clasped in his lap in a respectful manner.

- “Miss Ghost!” He begins in complete earnestness.

- ???

- Does Tanjirō really believe you’re a ghost right now??

- “I understand that to be here, you must have died with many regrets. But I must ask you to vacate this room! You see, this is my partner’s room and I don’t think they would be very happy sharing it with a spirit. I will be more than happy to help you move on! Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you!”

- To finish off his mini speech, Tanjirō brings his hands together in a prayer and chants a short mantra.

- You’re not even sure where to begin. Should you be more surprised that he just said all that to someone whom he believed to be a ghost, or at the fact that he even knows Buddhist mantras?

- “Err… I appreciate you trying to make my room ghost free, but it’s just me.” You take off your wig, giving him a rather awkward smile.

- Tanjirō flushes and lets out a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his head. “…Can we please forget this ever happened?”

- After getting over his initial embarrassment, however, he becomes fascinated by your costume and even asks you to perform a mini runway walk for him. Needless to say, the two of you had quite a fun night goofing off with your ghostly appearance.

[higanbana-writer]

A Glimpse Into Eternity

Pairing: Soulmate AU Muzan x Fem!Reader Warning: Spoilers for Muzan's past Prompt: Every so often you will get flashes of what your soulmate is seeing at the time, however your soulmate does not know when it happens.

Same. It was always the same.

Those baby blue clusters of hydrangeas paired with the white, wide-petaled gardenias that bloomed so beautifully around that vast yard during the spring and summer.

Those well-read pages of various medical books and constant views of the ceiling and intricately painted folding fans during the autumn and winter.

Always, they were viewed from the exact same spot: the futon set up in the middle of the room.

You would see those every year during every season without fail. At first, you didn’t understand.

Why?

Why was your soulmate always looking at the same things? Why was he always in bed, when he clearly yearned to walk under the sunlight that shone in the yard just beyond those open doors?

But slowly, as you grew and your knowledge of the world broadened, you began to understand. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to step out of his room. He just simply couldn’t.

The previous frustrations of having to see the same sights every time you were given the opportunity to view the world through your soulmate’s eyes now melted into sympathy.

You had gone to your father, asking him for advice on how to comfort an ill person. Yet, all he did was give you a gentle pat on the head, accompanied by a pitiful gaze. He knew whom you were asking about. He’d known about the sorrowful fate that awaited your soulmate ever since the first time you’d told your parents about what you saw from his eyes.

You then went to your mother, presenting the same question to her. And she, just like your father, looked at you with eyes full of nothing but pity.

“Oh, my dear.” She’d said as she hugged you tightly. You knew she was trying to comfort you, but you didn’t understand why. “My poor, poor daughter. To think that you may lose your soulmate before you even get a chance to meet him. Why must the gods be so cruel?”

You were puzzled by their behavior, but as far as your young self was concerned, if they weren’t going to answer your question, then you’d just try to figure it out yourself.

And that’s exactly what you did. After pondering over it throughout the week, you decided that if your soulmate couldn’t experience the many joys in life himself, then you would just help him experience it through your eyes.

Thus began your goal of gaining as many new and exciting experiences as possible. You began going out to explore the city and nearby forest, unlike your peers whom remained at home, learning the arts of poetry with hopes of entering the royal court in the future.

Your parents were well aware of your purpose behind your frequent outings, though perhaps out of pity for the pair of soulmates whom were fated to never meet, they did nothing to stop you. As a matter of fact, when you began requesting lessons on horseback riding, archery, and even swordsmanship, they obliged. Money was of no importance, as your family belonged to aristocracy. They turned a deaf ear to the rumors that began circulating about how they were trying to raise you as a son instead of a daughter. In their eyes, you would stop pursing these activities meant for men once your soulmate died, and they were quite certain his illness would claim his life at any moment now.

However, their predictions fell short when you reached fifteen years old and your soulmate persisted in his battle to live. Of course, you still studied the subjects that noble women were expected to learn, such as music, literature, calligraphy, as well as the art of dressing beautifully. At the same time, you continued to enrich yourself by continuing to pursue male-dominated pastimes and constantly sought out new experiences.

You were always busy, as you never knew when your soulmate may be viewing your life through your eyes, and you wanted him to be able to experience something fun whenever he did. Since you got to take a glimpse into his life at least once every month, you could only assume that it was the same for him.

At one point, one of your many tutors decided to make an offhanded remark on how your actions may only end up causing more harm than good for your soulmate. Perhaps he would not appreciate you learning all these things in his place, and instead, would be envious of how you were able to do the things that he was unable to. Maybe your tutor was right. As you had been young when you started all this, it never occurred to you that your actions could have come off as extremely insensitive. You ceased most of your activities after that and mainly focused on poetry, not wanting to cause any further distress to him.

But as it would turn out, you ended up being in for a surprise after that. When you found yourself viewing the world through your soulmate’s eyes, you had expected to see the same things that you always had. It was winter, so you'd predicted that he’d either be sitting up and reading a book, or simply laying in bed and staring at the ceiling.

Both guesses turned out to be wrong. Now seeing through his gaze, you watched as snow that slowly drifted down outside through a small gap between the sliding doors. You panicked, immediately worrying for his health. What was he thinking? What if he caught another cold?? The last time you ‘saw’ him suffering through one, he had been coughing practically none stop and a concerning amount of doctors had crowded around his bed – clearly, he too, came from nobility.

After a few seconds, he turned his gaze away from the door as he began coughing. Ah, see! You knew it! But no matter how worried you might have been, all you could do was watch in helpless frustration. When he raised a hand to cover his mouth, you could see how pale and frail it looked. As his small coughing fit began to subside, he lifted his head and that was when you noticed a scroll hanging on the wall across from him.

Why did you stop?

The odd question had been written in such neat and elegant strokes that you ended up taking a moment to admire it before finally wondering why it was even there. Was this some new trend going around that you weren’t aware of? Or… Could this possibly be a direct question meant for you?

Long after your short glimpse into his day had ended, the question on the scroll weighed on your mind. Perhaps you were over thinking things, but you decided to write a reply on a scroll of your own.

I thought that maybe doing all those things would bother you.

Hanging it at a very obvious spot in your room, you made it a habit to look at it as often as possible, hoping that your soulmate would at least be able to see it at least once.

The next time you found yourself looking through his eyes, the scroll on his wall had changed.

I actually rather enjoy it. Although, is it not too late for you to be asking, considering how you started doing all these things years ago?

A sheepish smile found its way onto your lips when you had read that. Even if your tutor had overstepped their boundaries, you had to thank them for bringing the potential issues in your actions to your attention. Even though your soulmate was fine with it, what if he hadn’t been? It was always better to ask, no matter how late it may be, rather than remain ignorant forever.

It certainly delighted you to hear that all your efforts of attempting to help him experience the many joys in life – even if they had only been a brief taste of the actual thing – had paid off. But what delighted you even more was the fact that the two of you had discovered a way to converse with each other. Albeit, neither of you could write very much on one scroll and it always took about a month to see each other’s response. And since you began to resume your adventurous activities, which meant you had less time to spend in your room, you started writing on slips of paper instead of scrolls, and would take them with you to read on the go.

Of course, on more than one occasion, one of you would end up missing the other’s reply and would have to wait another month to view it. It was extremely inconvenient, especially since the only way one of you could get a chance to read the message was if the other happened to be reading it at that exact same moment. But it was the best the two of you could do and it did work, to some degree at least. Over the course of your correspondence, you were able to learn quite a bit about him, and he about you.

You’d been shocked when he first told you his name, Muzan – meaning miserable, pitiful, or merciless. How could his parents have given him such a cruel name? It was like condemning him to a bleak future, where nothing but death by illness awaited him. Could they not have at least held some hope by bestowing him with a name that signified longevity or good health? You absolutely refused to call him that and instead wrote his name with the kanji 六参* – literally meaning six and three. Though the pronunciation was slightly off, it was much better than always calling him miserable or pitiful. He didn’t seem to mind either, even joking that he’d now live to sixty-three with his 'new' name.

Eager to meet him in person, you had asked him for the address to his residence. Naturally, since the two of you were soulmates, you were under the assumption that he also wished to meet with you in person. So imagine your surprise when Muzan refused. Even after you had asked him for the reason several times, he never elaborated and remained tightlipped. Perhaps he didn’t want for you to see him while he was ill? Left to wonder and guess, you stopped pestering him about it, instead sharing the address to your family’s household.

Only a week after you did so, a servant of the Kibutsuji family appeared on your family’s doorsteps, bearing a letter from Muzan. The relief you felt at finally being able to communicate with your soulmate in a much easier way was tremendous, to say the least. No longer did you have to read your own messages over and over, hoping that Muzan would see it too. You immediately began to pen a letter back, giving it to the servant when they returned a couple days later.

Even if you didn’t get to see him person, at least you could exchange letters now. It always made your day whenever you received a letter from him and you’d always stay up on those nights, busy writing back a reply. Often, Muzan would talk about his joy in being able to experience the world through your eyes and how much he appreciated everything you were doing for him. Though he rarely mentioned his illness, sometimes when he happened to be feeling extremely vulnerable and down, he would open up to you about it and how he greatly feared his impending death.

As the time passed and the two of you continued to converse fervently with each other, your feelings towards Muzan gradually began to shift from simple pity and concern, to constantly wishing to learn more about him and grow closer, to eventually developing into the flowering buds of love. You would subtly express your blossoming love through poems to him, and much to your elation, he would reciprocate your feelings through poems of his own.

During your eighteenth summer, you received a letter detailing how a doctor had begun treating Muzan with a new type of medicine and that there were high expectations for it. As it seemed his illness had been worsening in the recent two years, you were thrilled by the news and quickly wrote back. However, that ended up being the very last time you heard from him. No matter how long you patiently waited, you never received another letter from him. Your only source of comfort was your most recent view through his eyes, where he had been standing in his estate’s yard, gazing up at the moon. You couldn’t believe it at first. Muzan, whom had been bedridden for so long, standing outside and seemingly perfectly fine? Whatever medicine he had taken, it must have been a miracle cure, allowing him to move about in such a healthy way in a short period of time.

Now, you could only continue to wait and pray that you heard word from him again.

---

Your lungs burned with each breath you took, and even the action of doing so took great effort. Flames licked at the walls around you, smoke filling the air and muddling your mind. Collapsed in the hallway directly outside of your parents’ bedroom, you could see them through the broken down door. They laid motionless on the floor, their throats both slit. Though your eyes felt dry from the heat that surrounded you, tears still welled in them.

To think that just earlier during that night, the three of you had been happily chatting away over a harmonious meal. And now, the entire mansion was up in flames and you were close to joining your parents on the other side.

If only it hadn’t been for that damn government post your father recently obtained. He’d been well aware of the jealousy he’d receive along with the job, but he had underestimated the extent of how much jealousy could influence a person’s actions. A man from the Tachibana clan* had been vying for that very post, desperate to claw back up the ranks and help restore his clan’s former power. He’d been more than displeased when your father ended up taking it, and in an attempt to empty the position for himself, had sent assassins to your family’s home.

Though your father valiantly fought back, he ended up being outskilled and outnumbered. You did your best to fight back as well, your swordsmanship lessons finally being put into use for once. You most likely would have met the same fate as your parents, had it not been for the assassins fleeing due to the spreading fire, which they themselves had set.

While they may had left you with your life, they did not leave you unscathed. You could feel it, the amount of blood you were losing from the deep gash in your side. Now, it was only a matter of time before you either succumbed to smoke inhalation or blood loss. Neither sounded like a pleasant way to die, but you had long been sapped of the energy required to flee.

As you lay there, watching as the foundation of the house begin to slowly fail and collapse in on itself, you thought back on the life you had lived up to this point. It had been filled with so much fun and excitement, and you had Muzan to thank for that. Had you not decided to experience the world for him, you would have ended up like most noble women, staying hidden from the gaze of others and focusing solely on poetry, music, and fashion.

How ironic it was. Muzan, a man whom everyone had expected to die long ago, was now healthy and able to live the life he’d always wanted. And here you were, about to die after living a short but fulfilling life. Perhaps one thing you truly regretted was being unable to meet your soulmate at least once.

You could feel your consciousness slipping now, your eyelids unable to remain open anymore. You waited, hoping that death would come soon and release you from all this pain.

Suddenly, something cold touched your cheek and it provided the tiniest amount of relief from the smoldering heat around you. Forcing your eyes back open, you were met with the sight of a man kneeling in front of you.

Though he was incredibly pale – unnaturally so – he was absolutely stunning, like a work of art. He exuded an air of elegance and cruelty. His long curly hair had been let down and perfectly framed his face, making his eyes look appear like shining rubies against the curtain of a dark and starless night. He was donned in the luxurious garb of nobility, which oddly enough, remained unaffected by the fire around him.

You knew. The moment you laid eyes on him, you knew. This man in front of you was none other than your soulmate. Even though you had gone all these years without knowing what he looked like, something in you told you that this was, without a doubt, him.

Why was he here though? Were you hallucinating? Was he nothing more than something your mind had conjured in an attempt to comfort yourself during your last moments? Well, whatever it was, you certainly felt comforted. Seeing him distracted you from the pain that assaulted your body.

His eyebrows, which had been knitted together in worry, relaxed when he noticed you looking at him.

“You’re still alive. I worried that I may have been too late.”

Oh god, his voice was as beautiful as his appearance. Maybe this was God’s final mercy to you, allowing you to have such an ethereal being by your side before you died.

“Muzan…” Though it’s excruciating, you force yourself to speak. " I’ve been…waiting…"

While his eyes held a frigid coldness deep within, they softened at your words. He caressed your cheek and the gentleness of his touch nearly made you melt. “I apologize, my love. I know I’m late and I have every intention of making it up to you.”

How? You wanted to ask him that, but your vision began to cloud and your body refused to listen to you. He noticed and ever so carefully moved you into his lap, cradling you in his arms. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt, but I promise you, it will be over very quickly.” He whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

The next thing you know, his lips are pressed against yours. Though they're as cold as his hand, they filled you with a soothing warmth. As your eyes closed for the final time and you fell into the darkness that awaits you, you felt the vague sensation of something warm and coppery slide past your lips and flow down your throat.

“After this, we’ll have eternity to spend together.”

—————————————————————————————

*六参: Literally translates to 六 (six, pronounced 'mu' in this case) and 参 (three, pronounced 'san').

*The Tachibana clan was one of the four powerful families that existed during the Heian era. After a conflict with a particular court noble between the years 939-941, the Tachibana clan lost most of their power.

[higanbana-writer]

hello, it's the anon! my idea was inosuke reacting to his s/o taking the blow for him mid-battle and getting seriously hurt, yet wanting to keep going to protect him

Hi again! Unfortunately, I'm going to decline on this as I'm not very confident in writing Insokue's character. But I'm sure there are plenty of wonderful writers on here who'd be more than happy to accept your request and create something fantastic w/ it! ❤️

[higanbana-writer]

That soulmate au, yikes… that hit me right in the feels ya know

Aww, thank you! I wasn't expecting much since I wrote it on a complete whim, so I'm flattered to hear that abt my writing! 💕💕

[higanbana-writer]

hello, are your requests open?

Hello! I'm actually not taking any requests, but I am open to suggestions! You're welcome to send in an idea or prompt you may have and if I feel inspired enough, I'll be more than happy to write it out. No guarantees though ;)

[higanbana-writer]

Hidden Gaze

Prompt: Soulmate AU where one of your eyes is the same color as your soulmate’s. Pairing: Kyōjurō x Gn!Upper Moon!Reader Part: 1, 2, 3 (coming soon)

“Congratulations on your healthy baby boy!”

The midwife beamed as she placed the crying newborn into Ruka’s waiting arms. She gently cradled her son and despite being clearly exhausted from having just given birth, her eyes shone brightly with pure, unadulterated love and joy as she gazed down at him. Shinjurō, whom had been kneeling by her side during the entire ordeal, now softly wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“He’s ours...” He murmured, looking at their son with a mixture of pride and awe.

Ruka smiled, leaning down to place a light kiss on her firstborn’s forehead. “Welcome to the world, Kyōjurō.”

Perhaps her actions helped to calm him, as his crying began to subside. His eyes, which had been squinted shut up until that point, began to open.

It should have been another heartwarming occasion for the parents to witness their son’s first look at the world, but what Ruka and Shinjuro saw when his eyes fully opened sent chills down their spines.

Now, it was obvious to anybody who looked at Kyōjurō that, even as a baby, he completely resembled his father. He had a head full of bright yellow hair and forked black eyebrows that even slanted downwards, just like Shinjurō's. So naturally, his eyes would be just like his father’s, right?

It was. Well, sort of. His right eye was a brilliant gold and red, as it should be. His left eye, on the other hand… The iris was a vibrant hue of [color], which, in itself would have been no problem since something called heterochromia existed. No, the problem lay in the fact that the kanji for Upper Moon was etched into that eye.

The warm, loving atmosphere that once filled the room had all but vanished now as Ruka and Shinjurō stared down at their son in horror. Noticing the change in the air, the midwife stopped whatever she had been doing and began heading over to them in concern. “Is something wrong?” She asked, hands reaching out to take the infant.

Shinjurō immediately blocked her, turning his shaken gaze onto her now. “Please leave the room.” It was a simple request, but his tone left no room for argument.

The midwife hesitated for a long moment before slowly nodding. “Very well. I shall be right outside if you need me.”

He watched her leave, making sure she properly shut the door behind her before instantly focusing back on his wife and child.

“His soulmate-“ Ruka stopped, unable to bring herself to finish her sentence.

“…I know.” His grip on her shoulder tightened as he stared into his child’s mismatched eyes. “He’ll have to hide that eye until he meets them.”

Fate must have been playing a cruel trick on them. A baby, born into a family of Flame Hashiras and destined to become a Flame Hashira himself in the future, having an Upper Moon demon as a soulmate. Shinjurō could only imagine the kinds of accusations that would be thrown at Kyōjurō if anybody saw his eye.

Traitor. Demon spy. A fake Hashira.

And as horrible as this was, they both knew; there was nothing they could do to change their son’s soulmate bond.

A single tear rolled down Ruka’s cheek as she felt for her son, knowing the hardships that lay ahead of him. Not only would he have to hide his eye from his peers, but he would also have to one day face his soulmate, a creature that was supposed to humanity’s sworn enemy and someone he was meant to kill.

Shinjurō pressed his face into his wife’s hair, unable to bear looking at their child any longer. “Everything will be alright.” He whispered in reassurance, though it instead sounded as if he were trying to convince himself.

Kyōjurō, blissfully unaware of his parents’ distress, let out a soft coo as he snuggled up against Ruka.

---

Seven centuries.

You had been alive for over seven centuries. That was a long time to stay alive for. And during all those years, not once had there ever been an indication that you had a soulmate somewhere out in the vast world. So why was it that after a whole seven centuries, your soulmate suddenly popped into existence??

It had been like any normal night for you: eating people, hunting down demon slayers, and looking for any clues about the blue spider lily. It’d been completely normal up until the point when you happened to catch a glimpse of your reflection and saw that your left eye had become a completely different color. No, we’re not talking about the ‘getting a bit red because your eyes are strained’ kind of different color. It went from being [color] to suddenly being two shades of red and gold.

But the most important thing was, your eye no longer had the Upper Moon kanji in them. The very thing that had been bestowed upon you by Muzan was now gone.

You panicked. You knew what had happened and spent the entire week trying to think of ways to regain your left eye back. Nothing you tried work, obviously.

Why now? Why had your soulmate decided to show up after seven centuries?? You had been perfectly content working under Muzan as an Upper Moon before they decided to be born. Well, if there was one thing you were grateful for, it’d be the fact that you still had your other eye which showed your rank. Better to be known as Rank Three, rather than to be just as a Upper Moon.

You absolutely dreaded the next time you would have to face Muzan. This rarely happened to a demon, but the last time it did – and that demon happened to be a Lower Moon – Muzan killed them. Maybe he had been in a bad mood or maybe he simply didn’t like the concept of soulmates. Well, whatever the reason was, you just prayed that the same fate wouldn’t befall you.

Thankfully, when Muzan finally saw you with your ‘new’ eye, he didn’t behead you. Yay for that! He simply gave it a disdainful look before addressing other matters. Somehow though, that disdain of his bothered you a lot more than the thought of getting killed.

After all, you were Upper Moon Three for a reason. You were powerful and dutifully carried out everything he asked of you. When you did well, he praised you. So naturally, you did your best to always meet his expectations and more. For him to show contempt towards you for something you couldn’t even control was simply unbearable. You wanted to be praised again. You had to please your master.

Following that incident, you tried your best to track down your soulmate. Once the two of you met, both of your eyes would go back to the way they originally looked. Then, you’d kill them for putting you through such a thing. You prided yourself in being a demon and demons didn’t need soulmates. Demons were perfect creatures all on their own.

Yet, even after two decades had passed, you hadn’t been able to find your soulmate. But over the course of the years, you’d learn to grow fond of your soulmate’s eye. At first, it had been a source of shame for you. An Upper Moon without their proper title? Preposterous! However, the more you had looked at it, the more you began to realize how beautiful it was. The vivid gold that wrapped around the red reminded you of a flame. A warm and inviting flame.

At some point, you realized that you’d actually begun to look forward to meeting your soulmate. What were they like? Perhaps they’d be cheerful and affectionate. Or perhaps they would be more on the mellow side. Well, whatever they were like, you were certain that they couldn’t be anybody bad. After all, such a gentle looking eye could only belong to somebody with a noble soul – somebody unlike you, whom had killed a countless number of people to get to where you were now.

Did your soulmate wonder about you, too? Did they like your eye, or were they repulsed by it? Were they even aware of the meaning behind the kanji etched into them?

You let out a despondent sigh, only to look up at your surrounds with a start. Oh, you’d gotten so absorbed in your thoughts that you failed to notice where you were going. Heaving another sigh, this time one of annoyance, you glanced at the buildings around you.

Having taken on your human form, you were currently in the heart of a bustling city, looking for somebody to prey on. However, it was taking you longer than usual as you were feeling rather picky tonight.

Maybe you would try another street – see if there was someone suitable there. Weaving through the crowd of people, you made your way to the edge of the street and towards an alleyway, planning to take a shortcut through it. But before you could enter the alley, a flash of orange caught your attention from the corner of your eye. You turned to look and saw a man with hair the color of fire walking past. Under the white and yellow haori he wore, you were able to catch a glimpse of a Demon Slayer uniform.

He was clearly a demon slayer, so why did you feel the need to stop him before he disappeared into the crowd? You hadn’t been in a fighting mood when the night began and certainly weren’t right now. But something about him seemed to be calling to you, begging you to reach out before it was too late.

So that’s exactly what you did. Before you had any time to process what you were doing, you had grabbed onto the back of his haori.

“Wait!” The words left your lips in a desperate plea.

The man stiffened upon hearing your voice and when he turned around, his hand was on the hilt of his katana. Except, you didn’t see it. All you saw was his eye and those exact same colors you’d seen numerous times in your own reflection. His left eye was covered by an eyepatch, but you knew exactly what was hidden behind it.

As you looked at him, warmth spread throughout you and suddenly it was like the piece to your heart that you didn’t even know had been missing, had been fitted in at last. From the way he stared back at you with widened eyes, hand dropping away from his weapon, you could tell he felt it too. And in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of you there, the busy street fading out into nothing more than a dull buzz.

You didn't know how long the two of you were standing there and gazing at each other, but you were the first to break out of your stupor. Though you weren’t sure how to feel about him being a demon slayer, the one thing you were sure about was that you no longer held the desire to kill him. Instead, you wanted to get to know him, to bond with him, to fall in love, and to spend eternity with him.

Tentatively, you smiled at him.

“Hi there, soulmate.”

[higanbana-writer]

Imagine being the Upper Moon who discovers Gyutaro and Daki, instead of Douma

Pairing: Platonic!Mother!Reader x Gyutaro, Platonic!Mother!Reader x Daki Note: After rewatching the 2nd season, this idea stuck with me so I decided to write it out. It’s a bit self-indulgent, but I hope you enjoy this imagine/headcanon mix nonetheless <3

With each step that Gyutaro took, despair rooted itself deeper and deeper into his heart. The slight spark of hope he’d felt when he discovered his sister, whom had been so cruelly burned alive, was still breathing, had all but disappeared now. Even with life-threatening injuries of his own, he continued to carry Ume through the streets until he simply couldn’t anymore, his legs giving out beneath him. Laying on the freezing ground, his arms remained wrapped around his sister’s charred body as if to shield her from all of the world’s evil in their final moments.

So this was it, huh? They were just going to die in the middle of the Hanamachi district, out in the open for everybody to see. How long would their bodies be left there after they died? He couldn’t help but wonder as a sleepy fog began to settle over him. Perhaps the district’s residents would swiftly dispose of them the moment they were sure they were dead. After all, everyone there was cold-hearted in that way.  

Close to death’s door, all he could feel was resentment towards the world and guilt of not being able to protect the only thing he treasured. Gyutaro had lived a shitty life, and now he was going to die a shitty death. Moreover, he’d doomed his sister to the same fate.

“Oh? What’s this?”

A mildly surprised voice cut through his haze and he cracked open his eyes.

Standing there in the falling snow, the moonlight giving her an almost ethereal glow, was a woman. She was dressed in only the finest of silks, her hair adorned with only the most elegant of accessories. A sharp fang poked out from between her lips and her eyes shone brightly in the night, the kanji Upper Moon Four engraved clearly in them.

She was absolutely breathtaking. Far too beautiful to be standing in front of such a dirty being like him.

Gyutaro could tell she was no human, but whether she was an angel or devil that had come to collect their souls, he only cared for one thing.

“You poor things.” She gazed down at them in pity. “How could anybody do this?”

Though he wished to speak, his lips remained shut, his body refusing to listen to him. Mustering up the remaining of his strength, he forced his mouth to move. “Please…save my…sister…”

He stared at her desperately as he pleaded, certain that such an otherworldly being like herself would be able to save his sister. He didn’t care about his own being, as long as Ume could survive.

She fell silent and looked back at him with an unreadable expression, seemingly pondering over something. And just when Gyutaro was bracing himself for fate to play another cruel prank on him, a gentle smile suddenly broke out across her face. “Very well. You’re both so young and deserve another chance.”

Kneeling on the ground and paying no heed to how dirty her garments may become, she placed a soft hand on his head. Despite he and his sister’s dire circumstances, in that moment, Gyutaro felt comforted and reassured.

“Make it through and show me your determination to live.”

With those words, everything faded to black.

~

- The next time Gyutaro opened his eyes, everything had changed. He and Ume were no longer humans, but creatures that prowled the night. He didn’t mind, however. The only thing that mattered was that his beloved sister was well and alive again. He definitely shed a few tears when he’d first laid eyes upon her new, demonic self. They pretty much spent those first few hours together just hugging and confirming that the other was actually alive.

- As the demon who turned them, you took it upon yourself to take the siblings under your wing and teach them everything there was to being a demon. You hadn’t been obligated to – just leaving them there to figure things out for themselves would have sufficed. As Muzan would say, if they didn’t make it, that was on them for not being strong enough. But something about the two seemed to awaken something in you, something akin to maternal instincts, if demons could even have that.

- So in the first couple of months following their transformation, you taught them how to hunt, how to fight, how to avoid detection from demon slayers, and so much more. The two were quick learners and gained plenty of power much quicker than you’d initially anticipated. Perhaps they would soon be able to join you among the ranks of the Twelve Kizuki.

- It wasn’t long before Ume, or more accurately now, Daki, began to see you as a mother figure. Despite being an Upper Moon, you were gentle with them. You never raised your voice or hand against them, and not once did you punish them for doing something wrong. You treated them with respect, sincerity, and dare I say, love. Yes, just like how Daki viewed you as her own mother, you viewed she and Gyutaro as your own children. It would only take a month before she actually began to address you as her mother.

- Gyutaro on the other hand, took a bit longer to accept your maternal feelings towards him. Don’t get him wrong, he couldn’t even begin to express just how much he appreciated you saving he and his sister. It’s just, even as a demon, he couldn’t shake off the way he negatively viewed himself. How could he, someone so ugly and miserable, ever allow himself to accept anything you gave him? His sister was far more worthy of receiving your love and kindness. As long as Daki was happy and safe, he didn’t mind if you ignored his existence altogether.

- His resistance to open up to you certainly did not go unnoticed. You had a pretty good idea as to why, especially since Gyutaro didn’t hesitate to openly deride himself. You took it upon yourself to begin complimenting him at any chance you got and every time he said something negative about himself, you’d counter by saying something positive about him. Of course, Daki would chime in along with you and list off all the things she loved about her brother. But if there was one thing you told Gyutaro that really stuck with him.

- One night, when the three of you had been sitting on a roof and taking in the magnificent view of the full moon, you’d suddenly begun talking to him about the beauty that could be found in everything, even the smallest of things. “I may not have been there to witness how much you had struggled as a human, but I know you suffered greatly. The world was not kind to you and you had every right to resent everybody and everything. Yet, you decided to care for Daki and raise her with all the love you had. You could have simply died that night, along with her, but you chose to fight. You kept going, all so she could have another chance. And I can see that right now, you’re still doing the best you can for her. That love you hold for Daki, the burning desire to protect her no matter the cost, I find that truly beautiful. Your unconditional love for her shines more brightly than any star or moon out there.” Maybe it was the sincerity in your voice, but that night, Gyutaro’s walls came crumbling down.

- Congrats! Now you have two kids whom see you as their mother! And what does that mean? Family activities, of course! You’d overheard from patrons of Yoshiwara about how fun festivals were, so you’d wanted to take Daki and Gyutaro to one. Daki was absolutely ecstatic when you brought up the idea. She had never been to one after all. However, Gyutaro highly opposed to it. Or, at least, to the part about him going. He was certain he’d ruin the mood with his appearance alone; even when he shifted to his human form, he thought he still looked as ugly. But you had anticipated his reaction, so you proposed a solution: festival masks. Nobody would be able to tell what any of you looked like and it’d make for a great chance to further immerse yourselves into the festivities. Though you were able to hide your presence well as an Upper Moon, the siblings still weren’t powerful enough to do so, so there was a high chance of running into a demon slayer at the festival. Not to worry however! You’d just kill them off if they dared to interrupt your family outing.

- So with those problems out of the way, once the sun had set, your trio set off to a festival at a nearby city. Daki and Gyutaro were absolutely captivated by lively and cheerful atmosphere, as this was their first time outside of the red light district. Though, in the beginning, Gyutaro stuck to your side like glue. But perhaps realizing after a while that nobody seemed to be paying attention to him due to his mask, he began following his sister as she darted from stall to stall. The siblings appeared to be enjoying themselves and at one point, you joined them in a mini competition at a goldfish scooping stall to see who could scoop up the most fish. In the end, thanks to everyone’s demonic reflexes, the three of you ended up scooping all the goldfish at the stall – much to the stall keeper’s utter dismay. The results was a tie between you and Gyutaro, which left Daki sulking until Gyutaro won a doll for her at a different stall. Legend has it that the next day, many residents of the red light district woke up to find a goldfish left in front of their doors.

- If there’s one thing Daki loves to do when spending time with you, it’d be giving each other makeovers. She admires how beautiful you are, as well as the elegant way you dress and would often try to mimic you. She’d frequently ask – or more like demand – that you do her hair and makeup for her, always delighted with the results whenever you did. You’d let her do the same to you, sometimes chatting away with her and other times just enjoying her company in silence. Gyutaro would usually sit at the side, watching with fondness at the display of familial affection between the two of you. Except, more often than not, he’d end up getting dragged into getting a makeover by Daki. Sometimes, when there was a particular accessory of yours that Daki seemed fond of, you would give it to her. She absolutely treasures anything she receives from you and even has a special drawer dedicated to storing your gifted accessories.

- It’s a well-known fact that demons absolutely loathe sharing their food. However, it is a fact that fails to apply to the three of you. While other demons would be tearing each other’s throats out – quite literally – over their prey, your trio would be sitting around and happily sharing a tasty human. If you ignore all the blood, you three would be the very picture of a harmonious family dinner. 

- Much like what you had first predicted about the siblings when you began teaching them the ins and outs to being a demon, as time passed, they soon become powerful enough to enter into the ranks of the Upper Moons. You’d been surprised that Muzan had actually given them special permission to share the title of Upper Moon Six. But at the same time, you felt proud, like a mother seeing her children achieving great things that others could not. Gyutaro was probably the least excited out of all of you about becoming part of the Twelve Kizuki. After all, rank or not, you’d still be their mother and would love them the same, and he’d be able to protect his sister just as well. But, if it made you and Daki happy, then he’d continue to work hard to become more powerful and maybe even move up the ranks.

- Now, as much as you wanted to continue staying with Gyutaro and Daki, you had your own duties to attend to as the fourth Upper Moon. And that meant you would have to venture to different parts of Japan for long periods of time. You weren’t worried about leaving them on their own, since they had each other and were perfectly capable of fending for themselves. What you were worried about was how Daki would react. She’d probably throw a fit, right…? Right indeed! When you broke the news to the two, she immediately burst into tears and insisted that she and Gyutaro tag along with you. And thus, you spent the entirety of the night attempting to calm her down. Gyutaro was of no help, as he neither joined Daki in trying to get you to stay nor did he join you in getting her to stop crying. He simply sat there and glared, looking both betrayed and angry. The three of you were a family! How could you decide to just leave?!

- When you finally succeeded in getting Daki calm enough to listen, you explained to the both of them why leaving was so important. It wasn’t because you no longer liked them, it was because Muzan hated when his subordinates couldn’t do their jobs well and nobody wants to see an angry Muzan. That, plus if he disapproved of regular demons grouping up, how would he react to three Upper Moons together? Daki couldn’t exactly refute anything you said, so with nothing else to do, she sulked. She sulked a lot. It took about a solid week and a makeover before you could coax her into talking to you again.

- Come the time you were to depart from the red light district, Daki was bawling once more. It’d be a lie if you said it didn’t make you feel guilty for leaving, but you had a job to do. You tried your best to comfort her, reassuring that you would come back before she knew it. Gyutaro himself looked reluctant to see you go, but he refrained from saying anything that Daki would say, and instead wished you safe travels and promised that you’d return to find them with a body count that’d make you proud. Not a very typical farewell, but then again, the bond shared between all of you was anything but typical.

- That was how the three of you settled into a pattern. You’d leave for periods of time, sometimes a month, sometimes a few years, and on occasion, even a decade. But you would always come back, bearing gifts and ready to shower them with love. The siblings would happily welcome you home, eager to make up for all the lost time. And Gyutaro, whom often spent his time dormant within his sister, would remain out whenever you came back. Daki would always be excited to tell you about everything she’d done while you were gone, especially if she or her brother had managed to kill a Hashira. Later on, you would learn from Gyutaro that during your absence, to help with the loneliness she’d wear one of the accessories you had previously gifted her. The red light district always seemed to have an increase in missing people every time you returned...

- It was always hard for you to part with them again when the time came to depart once more, but you were comforted by the fact that the siblings had each other. If anything happened while you were gone, they would look out for and protect each other. Nothing could ever ruin the family the three of you had built together.

[higanbana-writer]

Better Than Money

Pairing: 1920s Police!Mammon x Crime Boss!Fem!Reader Note: Inspired by this post

Jazz music floated softly through the air, mixed with the quiet murmurs of patrons. Though the club usually hosted a lively environment, on this particular day, everybody there acted as if they were dancing upon the tip of a knife. They had to behave as if they were enjoying themselves, and yet make sure they were not being a nuisance to a certain person present.

And that person in particular happened to be the very owner of the club. She lounged at one of the VIP tables close to the stage, all tables nearest to her devoid of any patrons. Of course, the unease of everybody there was very evident, but she didn’t mind. As a matter of fact, she liked it. After all, that’s how things were supposed to be. She couldn’t very well run a criminal organization if nobody feared her, could she?

Taking a drag from her cigarette holder, she glanced up as a man approached her table. His tousled white hair seemed to shine even under the sim lights and his yellow-blue eyes gleamed as he took in her appearance.

She was donned in a black, floor-length cocktail dress with a plunging neckline and long slits on the sides to show off her legs, finished off with delicate gold chains that draped across her bare shoulders and adorned her waist. It was exactly what he liked and she knew it.

A sly smile spread across her painted lips when she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down. She let out a soft exhale and whisps of smoke curled up towards the ceiling. Then, she spoke, her tone teasing.

“Well, Mammon? Are you going to just stand there and ogle at me all day, or will you join me and sit?”

He coughed awkwardly, the tips of his ears flushing red as he slid into the seat across from her. “Is that how you’re gonna talk to the guy who cleaned up your mess for ya?” He puffed arrogantly, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

How cute.

“Ah, yes. I must thank you for that. Beelzebub got a bit too worked up when that shop owner refused to pay his protection fee.” She grimaced when she recalled how messy the aftermath ended up being. “I suppose it must have been rather difficult for you to deal with.”

Mammon scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Pssh, who do ya think I am? Cleanin’ up after that big oaf was nothin’. Give me more credit, would ya?”

She let out a light laugh before she slid a thick envelope across the table towards him. “Indeed, it’s true that you have not once let me down. Putting a copper like you on my payroll was an excellent choice. Here, your payment as promised.”

“Oohh, now we’re talkin’!”

Instantly, his expression lit up and he grabbed the envelope, opening it to check the contents. She could practically see the money signs floating around him as he counted the cash. Just when he began to pocket the envelope, he suddenly paused and looked up at her, appearing conflicted about something.

Tilting her head, she questioned, “Is something the matter, Mammon?”  

“Well, ya see…” He chewed on his lip, staring at her intently as he thought hard. Finally deciding on something, he hastily placed the envelope back onto the table and shoved it towards her.

Her eyebrows rose in astonishment. Mammon, rejecting money? Why, that was unheard of! What in the world had gotten into him?

“See, I love money, I really do. But this time I want somethin’ different…” Trailing off, he seemed to struggle with saying the next sentence.

Suddenly realizing what he was trying to do, she took another drag from her cigarette holder, attempting to suppress a grin.

Perhaps feeling a bit overwhelmed, Mammon took a deep breath before practically shouting, “Let me take ya out to dinner!”

Ah, seriously. This man was such a darling!

Everybody had turned to stare upon hearing his request, fearing that he had angered her and a murder was about to take place. She paid them no heed, however. Unable to hold back her smile anymore, she leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand, giving him a sultry gaze. “Dinner, hm? Goodness, what a bold request you’re making~”

“W-Well… Ya don’t hafta, i-if ya don’t wanna…! I was just…just-“ He stumbled over his words as he rushed to take back what he said, perhaps assuming that he was overstepping his boundaries or that she was going to reject him.

Before Mammon could go any further, she grabbed his tie and pulled him towards her, placing a chaste kiss upon his lips. He froze in shock and she giggled, teasing, “Why, I thought money was your only love. I’m flattered that you’d ask for me instead.”

Releasing his tie, she then stood from the table and pushed the envelope back to him. “Regardless of that, however, you’ve worked hard so I insist that you take this.” With a wink, she added, “As for dinner, I expect you to pick me up at seven sharp. I’m looking forward to seeing what you plan out~”

Leaving him with those words, she sauntered away and all the while, Mammon stared after her in a daze.

What just happened?

[higanbana-writer]

The Lady’s Mysterious Hatchling

Chapter Two preview:

As Ilina dashed through the forest, not even paying attention to which direction she was going, she could hear the creature chasing after her. Even though she was weaving through trees grown closely together, it seemed to have no problem following her. With its large build, it was probably just bulldozing its way through, but she didn’t bother turning to check. She continued running as fast as she could, barely noticing all the cuts she was gaining on her feet nor the way her dress kept getting caught on things. She simply functioned fully on her flight mode, letting instinct take over.

She ran and ran until her lungs were burning, always feeling the creature right after her. And suddenly, she burst out of the trees and into a small, moonlit clearing. Stopping, she gasped for breath as her eyes darted around, looking for anywhere to escape to.

Come read the rest now on Tapas!

[higanbana-writer]

The Lady’s Mysterious Hatchling

Chapter One preview:

The empress of the Azentelle Empire. With a slender and elegant figure like a swan, hair as brilliant red as flames, sharp eyes the color of gold, and skin as pale and smooth as porcelain, she was the very epitome of beauty. Yet, however beautiful she may have been on the outside, darkness and cruelty was all that existed within. Corruption overran the royal court. Wars were wagered against any kingdom or empire weaker than Azentelle. Anything the empress desired, she acquired. Nothing was unobtainable to her.

And right now? She desired nothing more than Ilina‘s father, Baron Florian Albrecht.

“I shall take this man on to be my concubine.”

Ilina‘s head snapped up at the empress’s declaration, and she broke the curtsy she had been doing when she was met with the sight of the empress pointing her closed fan at the Baron, her lips curled into a fiendish smile.

Come read the rest on Tapas!

[higanbana-writer]

Soulmate AU (Ferid Bathory X Reader)

So this is a soulmate AU where streaks of your soulmates’ hair color start to appear in your hair and vice versa. Also, be warned. This is a quite long one shot with 1,642 words.

____________________________________________________________

You had been quite surprised to wake up one morning and find yourself with a streak of silver among your (H/C) hair. Of course you were been happy that you were finally getting clues about your soulmate, but there was just one problem. Just where were you going to start looking for that soulmate of yours? Silver hair was very uncommon and the only person you knew who had hair color similar to that was Shinya Hiragi. You pondered on that idea for a while, staring at the silver streak in your hair through the bathroom mirror. But you quickly brushed away that idea. After all, you had been on the same squad as him for years. If he really was your soulmate, you would have found out ages ago. You sighed heavily in frustration while running a hand through your hair.

“God… Why does it have to be so hard to find some so called soulmate?!” Frowning, you stared at the silver streak again. Despite your frustration at the situation, you had to admit that it actually looked good. Fashionable even.

Pursing your lips, you weighed your decision of styling your hair and being late to your squad’s meet-up and looking good while having the slim chances of running into your soulmate, or, getting to the meet-up on time and risking the chance of looking well…normal if you ran into your soulmate. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips as you reached for your comb and hardly used hairspray, “Well, might as well try a new style today. Those meet-ups always bore me to death anyways.”

·

Half an hour of painstakingly doing your hair to make it look amazing with the silver streak standing out and what do you get? A ten minute lecture from Guren, or more like shouting session, then an announcement that your squad was going out onto the battlefield today.

“I did not do my hair just so it could get ruined while I’m out fighting those bloodsuckers..!” You growled quietly under your breath in frustration as you sat in the squad car, heading straight for your hairs doom. Aka, the battlefield.

Sayuri patted your shoulder in sympathy, trying to cheer you up, “I’m sure that your soulmate will like you no matter how you look!”

Simply letting out a grunt to let her know you heard her, your gaze wandered over to the back of Shinya’s head. He was sitting in front of you and happily chatting Guren’s ear off. And for what seemed to be the hundredth time, your gaze was glued to his hair, desperately trying to find even a single strand of your own hair color. And for what seemed to be the hundredth time, you were disappointed when all you saw was a head full of white hair. Of course you had already ruled him out as your soulmate, but you just couldn’t help yourself when you saw the color of his hair.

·

Twenty minutes later, and you were still mourning over the coming doom of your amazing hairstyle. But this time you and the rest of your squad were actually standing in the middle of the battlefield, preparing yourselves against a large group of vampires. Really, nothing that Guren’s squad couldn’t take care of.

Unknown to the group, however, was a certain sassy vampire noble standing on the roof of a nearby building, observing everything that was going on down there.

“Oh? What’s this? A little human dressed up while on the battlefield?” Ferid let out a small hum of interest as he focused his gaze on you, a curious and amused expression on his face.

That was until he spotted the streak of silver that stood out in your (H/C) hair, his expression now morphing into one of shock and disbelief.  His hand fluttered up to his hair, lightly touching a spot where a streak of (Y/H/C) ran.

“I-Impossible…” For the first time in what was probably centuries, he had stuttered. But who could blame him? After all, he was a vampire noble and being him, he was expecting his soulmate to be around his level. Not some weak human that could easily get killed by him. Heck, he didn’t even know that vampires could have soulmates.

He had started seriously debating on killing you, now moving to the edge of the roof where he was getting ready to join the battlefield. He had spent years alone. What difference would it make now?

·

You were currently facing up against a surprisingly strong vampire, your arms trembling slightly under the strain of holding up your weapon to block a strike from the vampire. Gritting your teeth, you planted your feet firmly into the ground, refusing to get overpowered by some bloodsucker.

Unfortunately for you, the vampire had a trick up their sleeve; kicking you in the side of your legs and sweeping you off your feet. Landing on the ground with a pained grunt, your weapon flying out of your grip, you accepted your fate right there and then that you were going to die without ever meeting your soulmate. Closing your eyes, you waited for the final blow to finish you off.

Clang!

The sound of swords clashing caused you to open your eyes in confusion. The first thing you noticed was the gorgeous silver hair, styled into an elegant pony tail. The second thing you noticed was that the person with the silver hair was wearing vampire noble clothing. And the third, final thing you noticed? That noble vampire had just blocked the strike that was just about to end your life. You were frozen to the ground, staring up at the very unusual scene in front of you with wide eyes.

That silver hair… The shade matched perfectly with the silver streak in your hair. And that streak of your own (H/C) hair color among the vampire’s silver locks confirmed it. You had found your soulmate. While you were grateful that it didn’t take you years to find your soulmate like some people, you were certainly not grateful that your soulmate happened to be a vampire noble.

You were suddenly snapped out of your shocked stupor when the silver haired vampire raised a hand and sliced through the lower rank vampire as if they were made out of butter, the latter bursting into ash a few seconds later. Today must have been your bad hair day. First, your carefully styled hair had gotten ruined during the fight with the vampire. Then, some of the said vampire’s ashes had ended up floating into your hair, earning a loud noise of disgust from you.

You raised a hand to brush the ashes from your hair, only to freeze when the vampire turned around and stared at you with his piercing red gaze. Surprisingly, rather than feeling fearful when your eyes had locked with each others, you felt calm. And happy. Very happy.

The vampire stared at you for a moment longer before reaching out a hand down to you, offering a cocky smirk, “Need help, dear?” You opened your mouth for a moment before closing it again, hesitating for only a slight moment before raising your hand and lightly placing it over his, allowing him to help you up.

“You are not hurt, right?” While the cocky smirk had remained on his lips, his eyes scanned you with worry, slightly surprising you. Who knew that vampires could even worry about someone besides themselves?

“I-”

Just as you were about to answer him, a shout came from a distance. Both of you turned your heads to see what was going on. And there was Mito, running towards the two of you, glaring murderously at the vampire.

He chuckled quietly before turning his attention back to you and raising your hand which he was still holding, placing a light kiss on the back of your hand, “I suppose I should take my leave now. Take care, my dear. If you would like to arrange a time for the both of us to meet up, simply ask Guren Ichinose over there.” He paused for a moment to jerk his head towards the direction where Guren was finishing off killing the last of the vampires, “He knows how to contact me.”

The vampire then placed another light kiss on the back of your hand, “Ah. How rude of me. I almost forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ferid Bathory, the seventh progenitor. I must say, my dear, you certainly have an interesting road ahead of you to have a vampire as your soulmate~”

Ferid sent you a small wink before disappearing before you in a flash. And just in time as Mito had came skidding to a stop in front of you no more than a few seconds later, asking a flurry of questions at you about why that bloodsucker had acted so friendly towards you.

You simply tuned her out, a smile starting to slowly spread across your face. As Ferid had said, you certainly had an interesting road ahead of you. But you were eager and looking forward to the things that would come in the future. Ferid, he hadn’t seemed to bad. Perhaps it would be better then you thought it would be.

·

Ferid stood on another roof top, watching as your teammates worriedly lead you back towards the squad’s car. A small sigh escaped his lips. Why had he bothered saving her? He just couldn’t help himself when he saw that his soulmate was in danger. That woman, (Y/N), as he had heard her teammates call her. He couldn’t help but think how that name really suited her. The silver haired vampire watched her for a few more seconds, a rare, gentle smile appearing on his lips.

“(Y/N)… I certainly look forward to seeing you again.”