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@whirling-fangs
Indie, selective blog dedicated to HASHIBIRA INOSUKE from Kimetsu No Yaiba.
Penned by Powerup, they / them, 25+. Est. 08/2022. Caught up with the manga, so beware of spoilers! Please read my rules before you follow and have a nice day!
Trusted minions : @fallesto, @aoithebluenurse, @tanabota, @thunderbreathe, @whimscult, @fedua1era, @bodisattva, @starshinc
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"Well...maybe not, but the city has its own problems. that I'm sure he's dealt with." tanjiro recalls seeing many things in asakusa and even more in the entertainment district. originally from the mountains and far from most city life, he now knows that there are somehow worse things than bears prowling the busy streets he is unaccustomed to. for the first time, tanjiro really thinks about how far he is from home - how far he's come and how far he still needs to go.
blinking, he trots to catch up and barely misses one of the tossed sandals, smile easing back onto his face. no matter how homesick he is, he knows that he needs to keep looking ahead - there are still things he must do before he can even think of returning. for now, he focuses on inosuke and carefully toes the edge of the water.
"Be careful out there."
in truth, tanjiro knows that if any one of them can catch a fish with their bare hands, it will most likely be inosuke. after all, even though he grew up in the mountains, tanjiro had never had to resort to using his hands (though, that didn't mean he didn't try). from what little he knows, inosuke was raised by boars - not even humans. so, it makes a lot more sense that he has more...natural ways of catching his food.
"You know, I've never actually caught a fish by hand before," tanjiro chirps, walking the ledge of the river to follow the other, hands pushing up his own sleeves. the one thing he's learned about inosuke over time is that eventually, he's going to have to give this a try, too.
"So, what's the biggest fish you've ever caught? I mean, before today?"
Despite their experience in the city while hunting Upper Six, Inosuke struggled to think outside of his own narrow mindframe. He could only see the city-dwellers as pampered, sheltered weaklings who couldn't survive a day without having everything they needed directly handed to them. They couldn't even catch a single fish!
"Hah?! I know what I'm doing, big forehead! Stop worrying about other people all the time!" Inosuke bellowed, waving an angry few fingers in Tanjiro's direction. "Your forehead's gonna get even bigger from filling your head with all that worry!"
A puff of vapor poured out of the boar's snout, as he chased the annoyance away to focus on the task at hand. After he'd walked a little further into the waters, Inosuke grew unnaturally quiet and still, his feet firmly planted into the soil beneath them. He was listening in a way, with the skin of his ankles, analyzing every slightest ripple of the water around him.
It all unfolded in the blink of an eye. Inosuke's hands lashed down, and emerged with a fish longer than his forearm, and the width of his muscular bicep.
"I've caught much bigger fish than this one, that's for sure!" He claimed, unceremoniously tossing the writhing fish in Tanjiro's direction. "The water's too shallow here, though. But just you wait! I'm sure I can find bigger ones here!"
Well, Tanjiro is definitely awake now. The loud bang does the trick of chasing away the drowsiness from the days spent unconscious. Inosuke was right, seven days was a pretty long time; not that he can recall what had landed him in the Butterfly Mansion this time...
"Sorry, Inosuke..." He murmured weakly, blinking at the poke. "I didn't mean to worry you. Are you okay?" Of course that's his first priority, checking on the status of his friend.
Struggling, he managed to get himself into a sitting position. "Inosuke, do you know what happened...? I can't remember." It's worrying him that it's all a blank.
It took every ounce of restraint Inosuke had not to grab Tanjiro by the shoulders, and vigorously shake him awake for good. Relief quickly washed away the torpor and sadness that had clouded his heart, his smile so bright that it practically shone through his mask.
"Of course I'm okay! I haven't been sleeping for seven days, for starters!" Do not mind the bandages that lingered across the frame, and the blueish bruises that spread underneath. "Stop putting more worries inside that big forehead of yours, and focus on getting more rest! But not too much rest, you hear me?"
He plopped down at the end of Tanjiro's bed, arms and legs crossed.
"I'm not sure. I know the masked guys found us and brought us here, but the battle is all foggy in my head..." He pounded his fists into his thighs. "It pisses me off!! How am I s'posed to get stronger if I can't remember my battles?!"
For a moment, Kanae simply stared at him. Then her smile grew.
Not the polite smile she offered strangers, nor the patient one she wore while tending to injured slayers. This one was softer, touched by genuine pride. "More tree than before..." she repeated quietly. A small laugh escaped her, warm and light as spring air. "I think you've understood it perfectly, Inosuke-kun."
Her hand rose instinctively, resting atop his unruly hair. The gesture was gentle, absent-minded almost, as though she hadn't even realized she'd done it. Her fingers smoothed through a few tangled strands before giving the faintest affectionate pat.
"You don't stop being a tree just because you grow taller. And you don't stop being Inosuke just because you learn new things." Her violet eyes softened. "In fact, I think becoming more yourself is exactly what growing means." She could practically see the gears turning behind those bright eyes of his, working through a concept that had once seemed impossible. The realization sat awkwardly on him, like a new piece of armor he wasn't sure how to wear yet. Yet he wore it all the same. Then came his declaration about bears. Kanae blinked once. Twice.
The image of a much smaller Inosuke curled up beside enormous sleeping bears surfaced in her imagination. "...I suppose that does make me feel a little better," she admitted with a quiet chuckle. "Although I think I'd rather not compete with a bear for who makes the better sleeping companion."
The teasing remark lingered between them before his next words arrived. Nothing bad can happen to me if you're nearby. The confidence behind the statement caught her off guard.
She watched the realization strike him moments later. The redness spreading across his face. The way his shoulders hunched. The sudden retreat. Kanae's expression immediately softened. "Oh?" There wasn't a trace of mockery in her voice. Only kindness.
She bent slightly at the waist so their eyes were level, making it impossible for him to hide completely behind his embarrassment. "I see..." A knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Then we'll call it extra safety." She spared him the indignity of forcing him to explain himself further. Instead, she reached out and lightly tapped the tip of his nose with one finger. "After all, even the strongest boar in the mountains deserves to feel safe while he heals." Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer.
"You know," she continued softly, "there's nothing weak about trusting someone." The room seemed quieter then. Calmer. Kanae straightened, folding her hands behind her back once more. "And for the record..." she added, a playful glimmer returning to her eyes, "I think the bears would be very offended to hear they're being compared to me." She paused.
"Though I suppose I should feel honored that I apparently rank among your preferred sleeping arrangements." The smile she gave him afterward was bright enough to take any sting from the teasing. "Now then, since you've already promised to rest harder than anyone else..." she continued, nodding toward his bedding, "why don't you start proving it?" Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Or was all that confidence just talk?"
Inosuke's smile beamed so bright that it could have outshone the sun itself. It wasn't often that he was praised for understanding something, let alone by someone as mighty and important as a Hashira. Or perhaps it didn't matter who she was - her smile and soft laughter alone could have kept him smiling for days.
"Then I gotta keep learning lots and lots of things, until I've found all the things that make me, me!" The prospect was as daunting as it was exciting. "There's still so many things I don't know... like reading. Or wearing a shirt."
He didn't recoil as she reached out, sensing no sort of danger in her motion. The image of Tanjiro reaching down to pat his sister's head sprung to his mind, a gesture he'd already associated to the gentle bonks of a wild animal's head against another's. He let the warmth fill him from the skull down, even pushing back slightly against her palm to better lean into her touch. Had anyone ever touched him so gently...?
"I think you're better that the bears, actually." Inosuke grinned. "You probably don't snore as loud."
For the entire duration of their discussion, Inosuke couldn't quite shake off a sense of familiarity. It wasn't in her words, or even in her gestures, but he could feel it prickling at his skin. Her entire demeanor, the way she looked at him, the genuine care that transpired from her entire being... Maybe this wasn't the first time someone cared about his that way. Inosuke's gaze involuntary flickered to the boar mask that rested near his bed.
He seemed to come out of his shell under her insistent gaze, not out of bravado or defiance, but out of genuine confidence. She had a way of swaying his thoughts with just a few sentences - possibly because her words were not just words, but manifestations of her genuine thoughts. It was a sort of gentle, benevolent manipulation that he was extremely weak to.
"Fine! I'm gonna show you how good I am at sleeping!" He slammed his back into the mattress, with enough force to make the entire bed frame groan in protest. "But if the blue nurse makes tempura for dinner, you better wake me up in time. Alright?"
She remembered then how awfully guilty and ashamed she was of survival, of how her hard work of ingesting poison, of being consumed by that rage was all reduced to point blank because she was saved by that young and bright girl who grew out of her shell and this boy before her who now eagerly waits for her presence, who was now appreciating the silken petals, admiring the gift of life ; something that she has not been doing much, it seems.
Her musings were interrupted as the boy had shoved a handful of said petals in his mouth, a habit that could only make her .. freeze and stiffen before bursting out into hearty laughter as he caught and offered a full flower, it wasn't even because it was funny, but the fact that he, a boy who was once so reckless, albeit a little troublesome to patch up before was now showing her his newfound zest for life in his own funny way, it is taken with gratitude as her laugh had receded before keeping it tucked against her lap, a little benediction for the loss of her mobility that life has sometimes a seemingly cruel way to remind you that while your life is yours, destiny sometimes gets in the grand scheme of things to usher in a path much more suited for you and destiny had enacted judgement that she must live on as a relic of a now-bygone era and not as a sacrifice, as such her hands are clasped together in a prayer-like stance.
"First, let's thank this tree for blooming so beautifully and pray it bear fruit." Silence had befallen her as she closed her eyes and thanked this world for all its liberty and cruelty, while she may not be reunited with family, it would not take any longer, for now she will live on with the people in her life just a little, selfishly longer.
There was a low growl from the young boar's throat, as a passer-by glanced a little too long in Shinobu's direction. The man jolted and hurried his step, face reddening, ashamed to have been caught staring.
"What are these idiots judging you for?! They should be praising you for being alive! I bet they've never even got a tiny cut in their life!"
Thankfully, he was quickly distracted by the petals again. What anger lingered in his chest was chased away at once, his emotions always a wild swirl that he tried to figure out day after day. He didn't like to sit down and let his mind drift away unchecked, but Shinobu's presence made sure that his thoughts didn't have time to reach the dark places.
"Huh? Thank the tree? Why?" His head tilted to the side, in his usual animal-like fashion. "It's just doing what a tree does. And we can't control if it'll have lots of fruits or not!"
He brought his palm up, facing the sky, and allowed a few more petals to come rest in the calloused crook of his hand.
"That's why I eat the petals. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. You never know how much food you'll have in the future."
A statement that had lost most of its truth, now that Inosuke lived amongst the humans, but that thought didn't brush his mind. There was no easy way to grow out of trauma.
He gives an amused chuckle as the boar headed lad began fishing--in the way he seemed accustomed to. As he fished, the Hashira began gathering tinder and dry wood, settling it in a place where it could be lit and not splashed by the fish being thrown on shore. he is patent, settling and preparing the fish that are caught, a smile on his face at the young one's enthusiasm. "Catch some for yourself as well!" Food is always better when it is shared, after all. And he would make sure it got made and cooked properly.
As fish are brought to him, he prepared each of them and made sure to start cooking them until there were enough for the both of them to eat. "Boar-headed lad, sit down. There should be enough." He was not as great at cooking as his younger brother was, but he was decent enough with what he had on hand here. "Your large fish catches were impressive! Very well done!"
Joyful sparkles seemed to light up in the dead boar's eyes. He would have pilfered the river's entire supply of fish, had Kyojuro not put a halt to his frenzy.
"Now this is a worthy meal! We're gonna have so much energy, I bet we can kill as many demons as we ate fish!" Not that Inosuke would remember how many that was. He had lost count after three.
He happily sat down next to the fire, eagerly watching his prized catches sizzle above the flames. A hand reached up to push the mask away from his face in a rare reveal of his features, as a warm and fuzzy feeling crawled across his chest, that had nothing to do with the campfire.
"I know, right?! I learnt it all from the bears! Maybe I don't have any claws, and my hands aren't as big as their paws, but I just need sharp nails and a really strong grip!"
Bankotsu barked another laugh as the splash hit him square in the chest. Water ran down the hard line of his jaw, dripping from his chin, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “There you go. Now you look more like a proper beast,” he drawled. The undead corpse settled back against the stone again as the demon disappeared beneath the surface for a second time. This time, there were no twitching ears left behind, no obvious sign of him beneath the clouded water save the faint shadow of a wiry body crouched stubbornly at the bottom of the spring.
Bankotsu began to count slowly, his voice rolled lazily through the steam. “One…Two… three… four…” Truthfully, the boy had already lasted longer than he expected. Most children would have given up the moment their chest began to ache. Most adults, too, for that matter, but the halfbreed was all teeth and pride and sheer, the kind of creature that would run headfirst into a cliff just to prove he could break it. The ravenette’s grin tugged a little wider, though something sharper flickered behind it. He remembered when he met his other brothers with that same look in their eyes. The ones who threw themselves into fights too hard, too fast, because nobody had ever taught them there was a difference between being strong and destroying yourself. The human leaned his head back against the rock, pretending not to notice. “Twenty. Maybe you’ve got some demon blood in you after all.”
Blue eyes slid sideways through the steam before, in one smooth motion, he pushed off from the rock and crossed the spring in two strides, sending ripples through the steaming water. He caught Inosuke by the back of the neck and hauled him upward like a drenched, hissing cat. “There,” Bankotsu snapped, though there was more irritation than anger in it. “You win. Congratulations. Strongest mountain idiot I’ve ever seen.” He kept a firm hand on the back of the boy’s neck until the coughing eased, until he was certain the brat was breathing properly instead of trying to drown once again, as he wasn’t sure if the teenager had passed out or not. The ravenette reached over and flicked Inosuke hard in the forehead. “Use your head, can’t become king of anything if you drown in a puddle,” he muttered.
There was always a fine line between courage and idiocy, between determination and foolishness. Inosuke liked to trample all over it, his oversized pride clouding what better judgement he supposedly had, buried deep underneath layers of childish stubborness.
For a creature who had spent his entire life fighting for survival, night after night, he showed a strange lack of self-preservation. Perhaps this was because he sensed no immediate danger around - at least, none of the usual dangers he was used to. There was no youkai breathing down his neck, no predator wondering which limb of his it would tear off first. His companions were dangerous, without a doubt, but they weren't a danger to him.
Which, unfortunately, meant that his stupidity was granted free rein.
He was dragged coughing and spluttering out of the water, the color gradually returning to his face as he hacked his lungs out. Victory tasted sour on his tongue, bile and water mixing at the back of his throat, his ears pitifully drooping above his cranium.
"Told you...!" Inosuke had to keep his claims to the bare minimum, his entire efforts redirected to making his lungs function again.
His hands finally recovered the strength to rise, and try to claw himself free from Bankotsu's grip. The black patches were finally fading from his vision, his blurry gaze focusing on the faces of his comrades, and the smirks that lingered on most of their lips. Inosuke wasn't quite sure whether he'd impressed them at all, or made an even bigger fool of himself.
"I wasn't gonna... drown...!" He protested, with a vigorous shake of his head. A yelp escaped his lips at the forehead flick, his jaws snapping in an attempt at biting the offending fingers right off.
"Just you wait! Now that you know I'm a real youkai, I bet you'll be eager to see me fight more! Every kill makes me even stronger! Next time, I'll hold my breath for... thirty seconds! No, fourty! That's even more, right?!"
THE DEPTH OF HIS SLUMBER WAS NOT MERELY A PAUSE IN CONSCIOUSNESS; it was a geological event. He had descended into a state of stillness so profound that the very air around him seemed to thicken, slowing down to match the glacial pace of his resting heart. His chest barely rose, and the rhythmic wheeze of his respirator had softened to a ghostly, INTERMITTENT SIGH, as if the machine itself had fallen asleep. He was no longer a man in a room; he was a monument to inertia, A CREATURE SO UTTERLY SURRENDERED TO THE VOID OF SLEEP that the world could have ended in a cacophony of thunder and he would have merely shifted his weight to find a more comfortable angle for his chin.
TO HIM, THE CONCEPT OF "DANGER" WAS A DISTANT, BUZZING INSECT, easily ignored in favor of the velvet warmth that wrapped around his mind. He cared little for the trajectory of the blades, THE INTENSITY OF THE BOAR-MAN’S RAGE, or the physics of the strike. Sleep was the only currency that mattered in this moment, a luxurious wealth that he guarded with the fierce indifference of a king who knew his treasury was bottomless. The impending impact of the swords WAS NOTHING MORE THAN A FLICKERING SHADOW ON THE PERIPHERY OF A DREAM ABOUT FLOATING ON A SEA OF WHIPPED CREAM.
The strike landed with a violence that should have cleaved through bone and sinew, a dual-pronged arc of steel designed to separate head from shoulders. To any observer, the impact was catastrophic; tHE AIR SHRIEKED AS THE BLADES MET THE RESIN BUBBLE WITH A SOUND LIKE A HAMMER STRIKING A CRYSTAL BELL.
Yet, within the sanctuary of his slumber, he perceived the attack as nothing more than a distant, irritating hum, the ghostly vibration of a fly bumping against a windowpane. THE FORCE OF THE BLOW DIDN'T EVEN JOSTLE HIS RESTING POSITION; it merely rippled the air around his neck, the kinetic energy dissipating into the void of his indifference.
THE BLADES DIDN'T CUT. THEY DIDN'T EVEN SCRATCH.
They simply stopped, frozen millimeters from the pale, dark skin of his neck, held back by a barrier that felt less like a physical shield and more like a fundamental refusal to be harmed. HE REMAINED UPRIGHT, A SLEEPING TOWER OF NOBILITY AND LETHARGY, HIS BREATHING REMAINING SLOW AND RHYTHMIC. He was a paradox: a man whose physical posture suggested a complete collapse of will, YET WHOSE EXISTENCE WAS GUARDED BY AN ABSOLUTE, IMPENETRABLE STILLNESS.
It was like trying to to move a mountain. No matter how much strength he put into the strikes, no matter how much he willed the swords to find purchase, to slice through skin and sinew, to shred and devour as they were meant to... nothing. Not even a scrape. He might as well be blowing bubbles at the dragon's own.
There was nothing he could have done to stir the dragon-man from his slumber. For a moment, Inosuke wondered if he wasn't the outlier here, awake and thrashing instead of peacefully resting. Which one was the natural state of things? Which one was the anomaly?
He was barely a mosquito buzzing in the man's ears. Hardly an annoyance, not even strong enough to qualify a a joke. He might as well be a figment of one's imagination.
He was left winded by his repeated attempts, vapor fogging up the inside of his mask, dark patches splattered across his vision. He had pushed himself to the limit, lungs on the brink of explosion, muscle fibers screaming for mercy.
There was no enemy he couldn't beat. He had spent his entire life living by those words, by that absolute truth, a mantra that kept him standing in the most arduous of situations. As long as he remained convinced that he stood a chance, even slim and minuscule, he would never truly lose hope.
But how could he defeat someone he couldn't even hurt?
Inosuke slammed his blades into the ground in rage. The two swords practically rippled, as he redirected all his energy into a much more simple attempt - a solid right hook to the dragon's bubble.
"But of cooouurse!... And my name is Haruko."
Haruko tiptoed around Inosuke, brush still hidden behind her back. Once at his shoulders, she carefully ran her fingers through the messy dark mane, getting them stuck halfway.
"It just might... Be a bit strong." She started to run the brush through the ends and progressively higher, trying to disentangle that nest. "But you're a tough one right?? I'm sure you can endure it!"
"It's what I said!" Inosuke protested, while trying to shake off the slight unease that crept across his back. Why did he feel like she was hiding something from him...?
"Of course I'm tough! I'm not 'bout to be scared of some head scratches!" And he had no reason to be, right? Even if it felt like she was trying to rip the scalp right off his skull...
He didn't turn around to check. Her fingers did feel a bit weird against his scalp, but he trusted her to be doing exacty what she'd said she would do. Why wouldn't he?
She was constantly in awe of his healing abilities, in his ability to jump back into action following intense injuries. Part of her felt almost envious of it, and often wondered what it would be like if she had that sort of ability to heal when she had been with her 'mother'. Absently, she reached up and touched the small crescent marks on her cheeks, slowly getting lost to her own mind...
Before his sneered words brought her right back.
Unable to help herself, she laughs softly at his suspicion, her kind gaze leveling on him once again as she smiles a close lipped smile. "It won't make your limbs feel all numb, I promise you. It just soothes the wounds," she assured him.
And with his permission given, she scoops a glob onto her finger, tenderly running it along his injuries. As soon as she does he'll feel a slight cooling sensation, as if it was soothing away the stinging hurt of the wound itself.
With that done, she wraps his wounds up once more, securing them so they wouldn't move or unwrap themselves. "There. All done."
It was hard to tell where his gaze truly rested, but she might feel it's weight prickle along her visage for a few seconds. Every day was a learning opportunity for him, each silence, each twitch of a person's traits a new mystery for him to solve.
He gave a nod to her reassuring words, the tension visibly lifting from his limbs. Inosuke's heart was easy to sway, all the more when he had a particular liking to the person.
"Cold!" He hissed, his body seizing up for a split second before the sensation grew more gentle. He could almost feel the torn skin mend, the combined effects of the salve and her soft motions a better medicine than anything he'd tried (or been forced to try) before.
"Already?" The question escaped his lips, his mask hiding the red tint that crawled across his cheeks. "I- I knew it was gonna be that easy! Because I'm really strong, and... I trusted you!"
Kikyo did not move when his voice broke, as the woman had seen this before plenty of times, the precise moment when anger lost its shape and collapsed into something far more dangerous. It became grief, raw and unguarded, spilling through cracks that had never been allowed to exist, and was quieter than rage, but heavier. Her gaze remained fixed on him, steady as stone, even as his shoulders shook and his hands pressed desperately against his face. There was no flinch in her posture, no instinct to hush him or pull him back together. Hospitals were full of people who tried to silence pain because it made others uncomfortable. Kikyo had long since learned that silence, forced too soon, only sharpened the wound. So she let the teenager cry as the fluorescent lights hummed faintly overhead, their sterile glow flattening the world into pale whites and tired shadows. Somewhere, a monitor beeped in a slow, measured rhythm. The ravenette stood within it like a fixed point, allowing the storm in front of her to run its course without interruption.
Kikyo stepped closer, not abruptly, not in a way that would startle him, but with the same quiet certainty she carried into every crisis. Her hand rose again, slower this time, giving him space to pull away if he chose to. Her fingers came to rest lightly against his wrist, not restraining, not guiding, simply present. “Those things can exist together,” she said softly. The nurse’s voice did not try to soothe him with false gentleness. It was calm, grounded, something he could lean against if he chose. “Anger does not erase your concern, and your worry does not make your anger wrong.” Her eyes lowered briefly to his hands, to the way they trembled as if trying to hold something that refused to stay contained. Her grip shifted, just enough to draw one of his hands away from his face. “Look at me, Inosuke.”
It was not a command spoken with authority, but an invitation that left little room to refuse. “You are not the only one who has stood outside that room feeling this way,” she continued. “I have seen sons who shouted at their mothers hours before holding their hands and begging them to wake. I have seen daughters who walked away in anger and returned too late to speak again.” Her voice lowered, threading something quieter through her words. “What you are feeling does not disqualify you from being with her.” Kikyo released his wrist then, but her hand did not fall away entirely. Instead, she turned her palm upward again between them, the same silent offering as before. “You do not need to be calm,” she said. “You need to be in control of yourself.” Her gaze flicked briefly toward the hallway that led to the ICU rooms, then returned to him. “If your voice shakes, she will still hear you. If your hands tremble, you may still hold hers.” A pause, measured. “However, if you let your anger lead, you will regret it, and regret is far more difficult to carry than fear.” The woman tilted her head slightly, watching him with quiet intensity, as if weighing not his words, but his resolve. “Take a breath,” she instructed, softer now. “Not for me, but for her.”
It all felt more bearable behind the safety of his trembling hands. He wished he could have worn a shield, a mask, anything to shield him from the cold reality of these hallways. As long as he didn't have to look around, to show his face to this place that he so hated, to let her see the devastation that devoured him whole...
It's not like she needs to see my face to know how I feel, Inosuke realized. He felt her hand approach his wrist, and made no attempt at pushing her away. Unkempt nails sought that final chance to dig into the skin of his own face, pain to help him focus, to channel his overflowing emotions into something palpable. If he couldn't physically keep the tears inside their ducts, he might as well give himself a tangible reason to cry.
More than her words and their meaning, it was her tone of voice that slowly seeped into his brain. As brash and abrasive as his personality may be, Inosuke was easily influenced, a sort of youthful naivety that he'd clearly inherited from his mother. He listened to the steadiness in her voice, to the cold, hard facts that she delivered, with no attempt at feeding him falsely uplifting lies. Slowly, he allowed her to guide his hand downwards, revealing a single bloodshot eye that stared back at her, like a wounded animal on the side of the road.
"I don't wanna... shout at her..." Or at the very least, he no longer felt the urge to. He could already imagine the weight of regret, a cold hand crushing his heart like a vice, the sort of mistake that one carried on for eternity.
His other hand followed the same downwards course, and found purchase around the bloodied hem of his shirt. His gaze remained partly hidden behind unruly bangs, tears keeping the wild locks of hair melded to his features.
He did as he was told, for once in his life. His head tilted backwards, shoulders spread, a deep inhale through the nose, then exhale with a wide motion of his entire frame. He repeated the sequence twice, until his lungs stopped threatening to blow.
Inosuke made a poor attempt at wiping the tears from his face, before his hand hesitantly made its way to hers. A motion so simple, closing a gap that had felt wide as a canyon just moments prior.
"I don't want to be... the sort of son... who causes more harm than heal." His fingers curled around her, crushing at first, then slowly growing more gentle, a mirror to his attempt at controlling his emotions. "I just want her to know... that I love her so... so much!"
[[ i'm going to Finally release the queue into the world starting tonight!! it's got about a week's worth of replies loaded, and I'm afraid I won't get much of a chance to fill it up in the meantime.
We are facing our third catastrophic heatwave, just one week after the last, and this one has absolutely no end in sight. It hasn't rained in over a month and there are already multiple gigantic fires breaking out, because the 40°c-45°c last week dried everything up. There's a high chance of no reprieve until the end of July, with zero days below 30°c and zero rain... I'm truly at my wits' ends. I'm trying to be happy about going to a big convention this week, but they just cancelled my train because of the heat, and it's gonna be HELLISH in the halls orz
But I guess I gotta survive anyway!!! I gotta make it to when it finally rains again, to when I can wear sleeves again, eat something warm without actively dying, and have One Single Night of decent sleep with the windows closed :'))))) AND play video games without making my computer melt... ]]
His eyelids fluttered open to the gentle glow of late afternoon light streaming through the estate’s arched windows. His neck twitched, lifting his head from where it had sagged against his chest during his slumber. And then, he froze.
There, just inches away, stood the boar-headed slave, arms crossed, legs locked, head tilted to the side in a perfect mimicry of his own sleeping position. A thin line of drool dripped from the corner of Inosuke’s mask, pooling on the marble floor. He blinked once, twice, then tilted his head the other way, as if changing the angle might reveal this to be some strange dream.
It wasn’t.
He stepped closer, his elongated neck curving downward until his snout nearly brushed against the boar’s mask. His respirator wheezed softly, fogging the resin bubble with each breath. The silence stretched, interrupted only by Inosuke’s occasional snort, a sound that, in any other situation, might have been dismissed as a hog rummaging through mud. But here, in this ridiculous standoff, it felt like a challenge.
He sighed through his respirator, the sound resembling a deflating bellows, and allowed his eyelids to drift shut. If the boar was intent on this absurd charade, then so be it. The resin bubble fogged with his slow exhale as his knees unlocked, his body swaying gently like a sapling in the wind. His tail coiled loosely around one ankle as he yielded to the inevitable pull of sleep, once more.
The marble floor chilled the soles of his boots. Somewhere beyond the haze of drowsiness, he sensed the faintest tremor of the ground beneath him, the boar shifting his weight, no doubt. How quaint. His chin dipped toward his chest, his neck bending at an angle that would have snapped a human spine. He didn’t bother to stifle the yawn that stretched his muzzle wide enough to reveal every needle-like fang. As he succumbed to sleep, he did so just like his slave.
What should have been a short, pretend nap, turned into a long and somewhat restful slumber. Inosuke was used to sleeping in the most uncomfortable spots, yet he still felt his joints groan in protest as he finally stirred awake.
His mind struggled to piece reality together. The noodle of a man was still there, snoring away peacefully, a sight that had a nerve twitch along Inosuke's forehead. That bastard! He outdid him again!
Inosuke opened his mouth to bellow any insult that came to his mind, only to realize what sort of opportunity offered itself to him. This impossibly strong monster was lying there, fast asleep, completely oblivious to his surroundings. If there was ever a time to try and defeat him, it was now.
Now, there was no fun in taking down an enemy that wasn't even fighting back... but that didn't mean Inosuke wouldn't try.
"Stupid noodle lizard..." Inosuke grumbled, as he picked up the abandoned swords. "I won't miss this time!"
He would bring the blades down with every ounce of strength he possessed, as if there was the slimmest chance of this same old technique working this time. Maybe the dragon-man needed to be awake for his invulnerability to work! Maybe his neck was inexplicably softer while he slumbered! Or maybe... just maybe... that power nap had decuplated Inosuke's strength!
@whirling-fangs 🌕 starter call'd!
he insisted on growing so quickly, yet kiba carried far too much inexperience still. there were times kokushibō worried in her own way, knowing he would be too apt to run headfirst into something far over his head without even thinking twice.
hopefully himiko and hikari don't pick up any bad habits...
but how does one teach something like patience to one with so little interest in learning such a thing? kokushibō is certain she'd have to trick him somehow for that to ever land.
"...you'll wear yourself out if you fuss so much."
a distracted tone from where she's sitting, watching kiba's reflection in water's surface and via eyes upon kyokokukamusari.
A little shudder ran down the youngling's spine. He was like a kitten caught in the middle of mischief, back arched and hair standing on end, staring around to try and locate the source of his discomfort. He was entirely alone, yet he couldn't shake the feel of being watched.
So be it. His plan was already in motion anyway.
The unsuspecting slayers were sleeping in a circle around the embers of a campfire. One of them was keeping guard, or at least attempting to, their head dangerously lolling to the side in harmony with their comrade's snores.
This would be like picking berries from a tree. He would only need to kill the guard first, and slit the seven other throats in a swift motion of his claws. So what if he'd never tackled a group that large? There was a first to everything, wasn't there?
@whirling-fangs liked this post for a quick starter
"Now... Who is a good boar boy?"
Haruko slowly approaches Inosuke with an affable smile, the hairbrush hidden behind her back.
"Who is a good boar boy who wants a nice head scratch...?"
Said boar's fluffy ears perked up in excitement. If he'd had a tail, it would have been happily wiggling behind him.
"Me! Me! It's been itching like crazy!"
The matted pile of hair that sat atop his cranium was probably to blame. It looked as if a bird had started building a nest in there, a forest of twigs, moss and leaves tangled up in his locks.
"Scratch it real good, Natsuko! I'll give you some shiny acorns as a prize!"
[[ what it feels like plotting with @whimscult & @occultage ]]
Some people can rotate a cube in their mind. I can rotate multiple cubes. In my stomach. I swallowed some dice
