To melt a heart

by Ghetsisbitch

Summary:

"𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗲".

 

She had felt everything for him. He was her family, her best friend and her first epic love. For someone foreign to emotions, he enjoyed her devotion.
Therefore, it did not startled him feeling a connection with that fragile human girl.

However, her past haunted her and their roads, eventually, parted. She held a sword in her hand, when they met again.

He scattered lethal ice shreds to the Corps members, praying the Gods he never believed in, that the fatal day when she became his opponent would have never come.

Notes:

Cross-posting on wattpad under the nickname of “Domaslut”.

Just a few informations before you start reading:

- the reader has a determined physical appearence;
- not using the ‘you’ pronoun;
- this can be considered a prequel to “Twisted desire”.

Chapter 1: A mother’s sacrifice

The fierce wind blew harshly on the battlefield. It was a moonless, starless night. A weeping lady limped around to find shelter, at least for her baby. She would have not made it out alive, she knew no one could save her. Crimson drops of blood oozed from her wounds, painting the snow laying thick on the ground. She did not fear death. As a member of the Demon Slayer Corps, she dealt with death daily. All she wanted was for her baby to survive. 

Her comrades were dead, her husband was dead. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stumbled down the hill, losing her grip on her blade. Still, she held her baby tightly in her arms, her maternal instinct forbidding her to give up. She had to fight. 

Her crow cawed aboved her and the helpless slayer flicked her gaze up to the sullen sky. 

«Let her live, please! I am soon going to die, but please... I beg you to spare her life!» she sobbed, her vision blurry. Her legs had long given up and her lungs were severely injured. Breathing was impossible. It hurt, yet not as much as witnessing the death of her child. 

«Tell him she is... Tell him she could be alive» she breathed out to her crow. The bird indulged her last wills, hastily flying away from the dreadful landscape laying behind it. 

The slayer watched her faithful companion disappear from her sight and planted a kiss on her baby's forehead. She did not deserve to share her faith. 

Still, how could she keep up with Upper Moon One?

«Forgive me, Yuki» she soothed, covering her daughter with the bloodstained blanket she had wrapped her in before taking her leave from their camp. 

The wind intensified and she winced, her eyes shut to defend herself from the piercing cold. He was there. He had found her. The woman stiffened, the intimidating aura of the demon overwhelming her once again. There was nothing she could do, but accept her fate.

«Stand up» the demon coldly said, towering over her. 

«I can't fight anymore. Execute me. Fulfill your duty, traitor» she blurted out, her eyes daggers on him. What was the use in keeping her thoughts for herself, when she was embracing death in less than a minute. 

The demon scanned her face, his gaze trailed then down to her wounded chest and to the baby she was holding in her arms. He knew she had stopped fighting to keep her daughter safe, he had sensed the dispair in her heart as she threw some wisteria poison in his eyes. The woman had taken advantage of his temporary blindness to grab her baby and ran down the hills.

«What's her name?» he asked, unsheathing his sword. 

The woman glanced down at the sleeping girl, a single tear ran down her cheek as she realized it was time for them to die. She could beg the Upper Moon to spare her child's life and she did. She sighed, gently laying her baby before her and she bowed her head down at his feet. 

It was a deplorable attempt to negotiate with a demon, but she yearned to persuade him. She hoped in something better for her daughter.

«Her name is Yuki. Please, please, she is far too innocent to die... – she whispered, coughing up some blood on the snow – Save her and you can feast on my flesh» she pleaded him.

Kokushibo mulled her offer over. A human baby was nothing but a burden to bear with. Still, he could easily oblige to her request. She was dying. Whether he beheaded her or not, her wounds had already compromised her life. She had fought until the very end. She was a strong woman and the Upper Moon respected her. A valid opponent, she had been. 

Further more, he could bring the child to the Paradise Cult. Tons of women could take her of her. He would have gotten rid of that baby pretty soon.

«So be it» the demon contended then, his deep voice awakening a feeling of unconditional gratitude towards her killer. The woman got on her knees, her eyes soaking in the delicate features of her beloved child for the last time, before glancing up at the demon.

She weakly smiled at him, teardrops falling from her dark eyelashes «I'm ready» she murmured. 

She did not flinch, her eyes wide open as the blade cut into the flesh of her tender neck. Her head rolled down on the snow, blood spilling from the mutilated body, dyeing the snow in dark blood. Dark brown locks sprawled around her head, her glassy eyes were still sheding a few tears. 

As if she was aware of it, as if she was aware of the tear in her heart, the baby started crying. How pitiful, how dramatic. She weeped in the winter storm, the demon slowly bending down to pick her up. He dusted the snow off of her tiny body and watched her blue eyes peeking at him, from her half-lidded eyes. Yuki did not seem to be scared of him. He could feel the warmth of her body seeping from the frozen blanket, fading away. She could die of frostbite. That was no place for a newborn baby.

She was a beautiful girl, just like her mother. 

«I made a promise to your mother... You shall live» the Upper Moon One said, ignoring her cries. He had long forgotten about the feelings a child could give to a parent. All he wanted was to leave her to somebody's care.

In a few hours, Kokushibo knocked on the Temple. A few women let him in, not even questioning his look. They led him straight to their Master, to the leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult. Kokushibo did not feel sympathy for the other Upper Moon. He despised his fake easygoing nature, but he knew he could leave that child at his Temple.

«Kokushibo-dono, what brings you here? – Douma chimed, smoke of his water pipe surrounding him in a pale mist – Is that a child you are holding? How considerate of you not to accidentally drop it to the tatami floor!» he asserted, eyeing his visitor in curiosity.

The Upper Moon One walked over to one of the maids and handed the baby to her. The woman parted her lips, shooting a perplexed glance at the former slayer. Was she supposed to take care of it? Who was that baby?

«I saved her from a painful death... All I ask is for you to give her shelter. I cannot look after her» Kokushibo sternly said, turning his back at the Upper Moon Two to take his leave. He did not have time to deal with the baby and Douma, for what could matter.

Douma, on the other hand, chuckled in amusement and called after him «Ah, thanks fir the gift, Kokushibo-dono! What's the name of the child? She seems cute... – he noted, biting his lower lip thoughtfully –  She will blossom into a beautiful woman to eat».

Nor shame, neither the faintest track of remorse filled his voice. He did not even care about the three women staring at him in horror. They were supposed to be his meal in a few. 

«Her name's Yuki. – Kokushibo said – And I do not care about her future anymore». 

 

                            ❆

 

Far away from the massacre of young slayers, batting her frozen wings erratically, a crow crawed out the death of Urokodaki's son, the new hashira, and his wife. The former Water Pillar fell on his knees. 

A father should never outlive his son.

The fate of his niece was uncertain, but she was most likely dead. He had lost his son. He owed him to look for their precious heir. He swore that very night that, if a chance for her to be still alive was there, he would have found her. Searching for that baby day and night was his life goal. 

«I pray the Gods for Yuki to be safe» he uttered, staring blankly at the wooden wall in front of him. He could not lose her too. She was the last thing worth fighting for.

Chapter 2: A frozen rose

Yuki Urokodaki was not a capricious child. She was a beautiful, lovely baby who rarely cried. Douma did not like children, yet he was remarkably talented in pretending to be a yielding, fond man around them. The Eternal Paradise Cult welcomed thousands of women escaping a miserable life, searching for shelter and pity. They were usually abused young ladies, pregnant or with little kids clamping the hem of their kimonos in fear.

Although Douma was a monster, unfazed by human emotions and feelings, people trusted him blindly. He could fool everybody with that smile of his, always displaying empathy and kindness. He was a manipulative devil in disguise. He could not hear divine voices, as his parents said. He did not hear anything at all, but on the contrary, if he was ever able to hear a voice, it came probably from the haunts of Hell.

It was like the devil himself crooned wicked melodies in ear.

When Kokushibo left that baby in his Temple, Douma narrowed his eyes at the human holding Yuki in her arms and gestured for her to come closer. He truly did not care about that child, but he believed he could somehow raise her to be his personal maid, a trustworthy and loyal slave he did not have to pretend to be a god in front of. When the time would have come, he was going to absorb her right away. She was beautiful and beautiful children grew up into beautiful adults. Having some kind of appealing presence around him would have made the time he spent in his Temple far way enjoyable.

«Isn't she cute? Oh yes, she is! I think she will make heads turn one day, don't you agree?» Douma beamed, propping his chin on his hand and looking up at the poor maid, standing in front of him.

She merely smiled and nodded her head sheepishly «She will, indeed, Master» she said.

Douma grinned and took the baby in his own arms, curious about what kind of feelings that creature could awake in his dull, apathetic soul.
As he suspected, he did not feel anything, but the smell of her blood was driving him mad. It smelt like hawthorn and raspberries. His mouth watered and he accidentally dag his fangs onto his lower lip. The urge to devour the humans became stronger and he scoffed, laying her carefully on the stuffed red pillow beside him.

'Oh, it looks like it's lunch time! Poor little thing, I will try not to wake you up, mh?' he thought, unfolding his fan.

«Now, love, don't you think it's sad?» he whispered, flicking his gaze up to the baffled maid waiting for him to make a move, or say something.

The woman blinked a few times, frowing at the sudden question of her Master. What was that supposed to mean?

«My Lord, what is sad?» she softly asked, sweat beaded her forehead. The air was suddenly thin and the temperature was extraordinary chilly. His expression clouded over, no sympathy sparkled in his eyes.

«Oh, my darling, isn't it obvious? – he asked, standing up from his throne – It's sad that you won't live long enough to see her be my wife!» he beamed, moistening his upper lip with his tongue. He was hungry. The animalistic desire to take chunks of flesh from the women around him was unbearable.

The woman took a step back, colors draining from her face as she opened her mouth to stutter out something. However, she did not even get the chance to beg for mercy that Douma had already slashed her throat open.
Blood spilled copiously out from her wound as she brought her hands to the cut, a desperate attempt to stop the flow. The other women screamed in horror, trying to reach the door to escape their fate.

Douma sighed and rolled his eyes in annoyance. He twisted his wrist in the air, roots of ice laced around the girls ankles and dragged them towards the cold-blooded predator fanning himself in amusement.

«Oh, please, stop crying! You're going to wake Yuki up... – he said, his kaleidoscopic eyes darting on the clueless, sleeping baby at his feet – And I don't want you geese to wake her up» his tone darkening all of a sudden.

Why did he care about that child? Did he want to make her a spoiled, arrogant brat? Or was it just a rather entertaining duty to fulfill? How confusing it was, yet his stomach claimed some fresh food and those pesky women were laying on the floor for him to consume them.

«You know, Yuki, I do not think you could quite remember any of this in the future. I am trying hard to be a good older brother! – he chimed, taking his hat off and discarding it on the pile of pillows behind him – I might make some mistakes here and there, devour some of your friends and, probably, going on a rampage if a man lays a finger on you. But I will make sure to treat you right, my little snowflake».

His chest rumbled in a riotous laughter as he bent down and pondered which girl he would have absorbed first. However, he felt utterly frustrated. He hated making a mess while feeding, yet he keened to tear those corpse apart limb by limb. He was not a person to rely on for responsibilities. That child was a liability. What if he failed to protect her?

«What am I supposed to do with you, huh? I will do my best, Yuki-chan! But do not make it hard for me, alright?» he breathed out, giving her a side-eye.

The baby, on the other hand, was still sleeping soundly and he ignored the speech of a nihilist, apathetic demon dealing with the first emotion he had ever felt in his whole life: worry.

«Anyway, it does not concern you, right? Ah, let me enjoy my meal now, I am so hungry Yuki-chan!» he crooned, a crooked smile adorning his lips. Pearly fangs protruding from his upper lip, Douma chuckled and sank his mouth onto his victim's calf.

Curiously, blood and flesh tasted bitter on his tongue.

❆

 

One year had passed. Douma had grown fond of that little creature. He never allowed strangers to hold her, or feed her and she slept in his bed. He was surprised to putting so much effort in trying to satisfy her needs. She was dressed in flashion, expensive clothes. Toys laid everywhere on the floor and he seemed to be the only one who could make her fall asleep. She looked so fragile and beautiful. Yuki was such a sweet child.

«Yuki-chan, I can't wait for you to grow up! It is a step closer to death for you, I know, but it means having someone to hang out with for me!» he beamed, picking her up from the soft grass she was playing on and strolling in his gardens. He loved doing that. It made him forget about his incapability to feel emotions.

'Sometimes I feel like a broken toy' he thought, glancing up at the moon. It was peaceful. A monster and a child were enjoying the summer breeze and no harm was intended. Was it a beginning of a fairytail?

«Ah, I wonder why I never felt anything at all. I mean, I could accept not feeling emotions as a demon. We are blood-thirsted creatures... – he trailed off, a small smile adorning his lips – But as a human was so annoying» he ranted, stopping by a bush of red roses. His eyes batted close for a moment. No smell was as sweet as her blood anymore. Everything was changing. He was changing too.

«It is not like I care. Things are so much easier if your heart is buried under ice, little one. Nothing can hurt you... – he added, picking the most beautiful roses of the bush – Maybe, I will teach you how to numb pain, how to fake joy and love» he I did not want her to suffer. Was it some semblance of love? Oh, but he was uncapable of loving.

Douma cocked his head to the side, Yuki stared at the flower in his hand and giggled.

«Humans, my snowflake, are as beautiful and full of life as flowers. Yet, they are easy to break» he crooned, freezing the petal of the flower in the palm of his huge, pale hand. The girl stared at it in awe and pulled a strand of his silver hair.

Douma grinned and clenched his fist, allowing the poor frozen flower to break like twig in his hand. Shreds of red frost were left in his palm and he blew them away.

«I am glad I have never felt sorrow and grief in my whole life. Empathy was not instilled in me. Why should I feel emotions now, huh? I am honestly living my best life! And I really shall not be scared of being a future crybaby... I mean, I feel nothing. Am I right?» he mumbled, sitting on a bench and pouting.

Yuki looked up at him, her tiny hands gripping the fabric of his cloak to catch his attentions.
That baby saw him as the only person in the world who took care of her. Douma chuckled, tickling her sides. Angelic laughters filled the air and the Upper Moon Two sighed, planting a kiss on her forehead.

'I don't love her. Really. Still, if someone hurts her, I am surely going to bring hell on Earth' he thought.

«Still, I have a feeling you will hurt me one day. Ah, I don't think I am ready for it. Don't hurt your big, sadistic brother, okay?» he spoke again, shooting a demanding glance at the baby.

Yuki grasped his index in her hand, big blue eyes staring at him. A single word escaped her lip and, for the first time, something truly chamged.

«Dad».

Notes:

Let me know what you think about the incipit :)

Comments & kudos are appreciated

Chapter 3: Muzan Kibutsuji

Notes:

Hello there!

Long time no see (?). Yet, exams require concentration and I have almost zero time to update.

However, thanks for reading my story! I hope you’re going to like this update.
Yuki is still a child, but it’s better this way, trust me :)

«Yuki, where are you? You've become exceptionally good at hiding from me! Yet, there is no place in the world I could not find you in. You cannot really hide from me, snowflake» Douma beamed, walking down the main corridor of his Temple. He was taking his time, but he enjoyed those moments of peace with the five-years-old girl he was raising since she was a newborn baby.

His feather-like footsteps did not make a sound. He looked like a God, his eyes sparkling into the almost dark alley. He perfectly knew where the child had found shelter. She was curled up in a ball right behind the third golden column on his right.

Hands behind his back, the Upper Moon Two chuckled. Her heartbeat was his favorite lullaby. When she fell asleep at night, he loved listening to it as he caressed her cheeks or played with the brown locks of her hair. He felt a odd feeling, making his stomach twist and he could not mend it with eating innocent people.

Something was changing. He was changing.

No one ever had made him feel that way, though. Nor women, neither their children. He was unconditionally enticed by this little girl. He purely cared about her and her health.

However, not even that little child had melted his heart. At least, not yet. He was still the cold-blooded killer who had chased after Kotoah a month ago: he was still the monster that had devoured her to the bone, fake tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched Inosuke fall down from that cliff.

Inosuke. It had been so hard telling Yuki that "he was gone in a better place with his mother". His heart ached with every whimper leaving her trembling lips. She sobbed all noght long. That stupid woman, kind and beautiful, had picked his interest from the moment she had arrived.

Also, Yuki loved her. He did not mind the help of a goodhearted woman in dealing with a kid.

To snap him out of his stream of consciousness was a chill running down his spine. In a nick of time, he found himself on his knees. Eyes staring at the marble floor, the Upper Moon Two inhaled sharply.

He was here and, if he was here, his thoughts were not safe. Yuki was not safe.

«Muzan-sama, it's a honor receiving a visit from you» the silver-haired man said, a gentle tone in his voice as a polite smile made its way on his lips. Fake, it was fake.

Muzan Kibutsuji, the Demon King, stared blankly down at him. He despised the Upper Moon Two, he loathed his apparent easygoing nature.

However, Douma was a living menace. Pillars could not keep up with him and, as long as he kept on getting stronger and digging graves for the slayers bumping into him, Muzan could bear with him.

«I heard you killed another Pillar. I'm not here to praise you. I am not going to congratulate you for fulfilling your duty. That is, indeed, your side mission. – Muzan bluntly said – Where's the blue spider-lily?» he asked, quirking his dark eyebrows up. The Upper Moons had to be his eyes and ears across the Nation.

Still, those useless and incompetent demons kept on forgetting the main reason wht they were created. What was their use, if they could not even help their Master in finding a flower?

All they did was slaughtering slayers, a task he could deal with himself.

«Muzan-sama, I beg your pardon for I could not find the flower you are looking for. If you please to punish me, my body belongs to you» the leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult chimed, his keleidoscopic eyes widening as he offered his body to the Demon King. It was degarding, wicked, something only a masochist would do, yet Douma did not feel anything at all.

Keeping his Master busy for a while would have probably helped Yuki to run off somewhere else in the Temple.

Muzan scowled, his nails sharpening as he raised his hand in the air to slash him to pieces.
«Sir, no! Please!» a mild, childish voice chirped out, echoing through the walls of the desert alley.

Douma gasped, his arms wrapped protectively around the tiny body of a kid who had rushed to the Upper Moon in a seemingly unhuman speed. Was she a demon? No, she smelled of blood. Her puffed rosy cheeks and the tears sparkling in her eyes were unconfutable proof that she was just a mere human.

«It's okay, Yuki! What are you doing here, hm? Go join your friends, your brother has some business to take care of...» Douma chimed, his voice breaking slightly at some point. He had to protect her. While he knew other Upper Moons and Lower Demons would have never laid a finger on her, his Lord did not care about the age of who had had the audacity of standing on his path.

«Don't hurt him, please...» Yuki cried out, her hands clamping his brother's robes in dispair.

What was that kid up to?

«Get that prick out of my sight» Muzan simply barked, staring down at the girl in disdain. Still, he could not resist the temptation of reading her mind. If his Upper Moon had learnt to shield his thoughts in his presence, that innocent kid was aloof from even knowing that he was a superior being capable of reading people's mind.

Pure thoughts of love and happiness welcomed him in her mind. What did he expect? She was child. Yet, there was a dark pit of sorrow and saddness locked up in the depths of her mind. Some flashes, she probably could not remember, of her first days of life.

Her parents, her real parents were dead. Kokushibo had slaughtered them and took her to Douma. There, she had started seeing him as her savior, as someone who cared about her: a father, a brother.

Muzan darted his eyes on the Upper Moon «So that is what you do instead of searching for the blue spider-lily? You play around with a child? – he started, cocking his head to the side – One day, she will find out what we did to her family. She comes from a line of slayers, I see. Watch out, scum, I don’t have time to deal with that writhing thing» he blurted, before disappearing from their sight.

Douma gulped, his arms still holding Yuki in a iron grip. He could have her lost her.

"What is that? My stomach keeps on twisting and turning... I am about to throw up. Oh, don't tell me it's another emotion! That is fear... Ugh, damn it" he thought, burying his nose into the crook of her neck.

She was still there, he had not failed in protecting her. Muzan was far away and they were now left alone in a desert alley. The child, Yuki, sniffed and her tears damped the fabric of his black cloak.

«Hey, little snowflake, it’s okay! I’m fine, do not worry about me» he cooed, peppering her face with affectionate kisses. He was right back in time: that child would have hurt him sooner or later.

Yuki, on the other hand, looked up at him. Her blue eyes searched his rainbow-colored ones, they were so calming and deadly beautiful.
«That man was going to hurt you, oni–chan! What would happen to me, if you died? I don’t wanna be alone. I love you…» she cried out, as the Upper Moon tucked a strand of her brown locks behind her ear. His heart skipped a beat again. Did he really deserve the pure love of child?

He smiled and cocked his head to the side «Your brother is strong, Yuki-chan. You don’t have to be scared of me getting hurt, I’m a God. And what did I taught you a while ago?» he asked, a smile curling his lips.

The child nodded and chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully before giving him an answer «All it takes to kill a God is a nichirin blade or the sun!» she said, her eyes softening.

Douma was truly forging her into a strong, brilliant woman. When the time would have come, he counted on instructing her with fighting techniques. If she was going to stick around for a long while, she would have had to deal with the real world and fight by his side.

«Ah, that’s my girl! Now, give me a kiss and join the other kids. I heard they were going to play “hide and seek” too» he suggested, standing on his legs and gently patting on her head with his fan.

Yuki giggled and turned on her heels. She ran straight to the end of the corridor, then she stopped. His eyes never trailed off of her. Before disappearing from his sight, she turned around and yelled something to him, something the demon was not expecting «Promise me you will live forever!».

Douma’s breath itched and unfolded his fan hastily to cover his baffled facial expression «Until death do us apart!» he joked, making the kid laughs.

After that, the demon was left alone once again. He did not know much about Yuki’s past. She was just s newborn baby when Kokushibo brought her over. Now, having learnt from his master that she came from a line of slayers, he understood why she was stronger and faster than the other kids. It was all in her genes.

«My, my… Is my child my natural born enemy? That is indeed unfair!» he scoffed, fanning himself in irritation. Still, who was she related to? Where were her parents? Oh, he knew what he had to do.

An excited laughter rumbled in his chest as he strolled down the corridor «It’s time to pay a visit to Kokushibo-dono!».

Notes:

You can find me on Wattpad under the nickname of “Domaslut”

Chapter 4: Blood and tears

Notes:

I wanted to update this story so badly!
I hope you like the chapter. It's longer, but I have big plans for it.

Yuki is growing up! A badass eleven-years-old girl ready to freeze the world over :)

WARNING: DOUMA DOING NSFW THINGS WITH A POOR WOMAN IN THE END

«You did not tell me her parents were slayers! She is an adorable and exceptionally disciplined child, but she is hardly bonding with other kids. She is stronger and faster, Kokushibo-dono! – Douma ranted, the loud twack of his fan being folded back echoing through the silent forest – Now, that's an issue! What if, when I am not around, she loses her temper and snaps their necks like twigs?» he charted, rubbing his chin in distress. 

No answer came from his interlocutor. The Upper Moon One really stack up to his oath five years ago and, from the moment he had left the child at the Eternal Paradise Cult, he had lost interest in the matter. 

«I am even surprised to know she is still alive...» he commented after a few seconds, contemplating the shimmering Moon above them.

Douma chuckled, fangs protruding from his gums «Just wait a little longer for that... – he simply stated, unfolding his golden fan again – However, what if she goes through a killing spree time just like her dad?» he asked, half-lidded eyes staring at the back of the other Upper Moon. 

It was hard for him to even admit it, but the idea of devouring Yuki to the bone once she was mature enough was repulsing him. The more time he spent in her company, the stronger his feelings were growing. When Kokushibo had brought her over to his Temple, she was nothing more than a little toy for him. He was not used to care about people.  Let alone feeling like a protective brother.

The Upper Moon One did not turn around to face him «Just... Dig some graves. I... don't care about her. Neither should you. She is destined to be a slayer. You should let her go» he stated. 

Douma eyes grew round and he gasped, clasping a manicured hand over his mouth. Never, never in a life century he would have let her go. Was it a sign of his dawnfall? The cruel Upper Moon Two, the one detached from the world, from emotions, the demon foreign to empathy was becoming a slave to love. What a tragedy.

"No, I will never let my baby go. I–I care about her. She is the only creature who has ever made me feel something. Not my precious Yuki" he thought, batting his eyes shut in dispair. He was not ready to let her go.  

«Her father was a Water Pillar... Her mother was close to be one herself. Train her...» the Upper Moon One added, before vanishing into the night. 

How was someone as cold as ice supposed to distance himself from the only person in the entire world who had made him genuinely smile for the very first time ever?

When he went back to his Temple, she was there, waiting for him with that lovely smile of hers. Puffed cheeks and shimmering eyes, she ran up to him.

«You're back!» she beamed, his tall figure towering over her. She was too good for him.

«One day I am going to be your bride! Will you make me your wife?» the little girl piped out again, her arms reaching out above her head.

The man chuckled and picked her up, peppering her face with kisses «Oh, I will! But you have to prove yourself worthy to be my wife! I am a god, little snowflake, do not forget about it!» he joked, his tone unnaturally sweet and cheerful.

Yuki pouted and tried to grasp the golden tessen he was holding in his free hand. The man, on the other hand, tried his best to draw it away from her. 

«Ara-ara, snowflake! Those fans could hurt you! They're as sharp as a razor blade, you know?» he rebuked her lovingly, kissing her forehead. He would have always protected her.

 

 

❆

 

Yuki was laying down on one of the puffed red pillows of Douma's room. She missed her brother. He had been clear right from the start with her. She knew they were not related in any way, she knew she had been left in his Temple by a stranger during a stormy winter night and that for the first years of her life he loved playing the part of her dad.

However, as the years passed by, he felt another kind of connection. A different string tied their hearts. It was similar to what brotherhood might have felt like: he loved her, he would have given up on his life for her, but he realised she was growing up and that she did not need him to constantly watch over her like a father. 

Now, as a eleven-years-old girl, she saw him as a friend, as her companion. He was her "divine brother". Douma did not age. He was ethereal, frighteningly divine at times. His eyes a mystery she lost herself into, two pools of unholy rainbows. He had told her he was not a common human and that, indeed, explained why thousands of people worshipped him as a God, kissing the ground he walked on as if their lives depended on it.

And, actually, they did.

«If they fail in properly worshipping me, they shall not be sent to the Paradise» he had told her once, on their daily stroll in the gardens under the dim moonlight.

She sighed, rolling on her side to watch the folding door he would have crossed any minute. It was midnight. Everyone was asleep, except her. She never wented to sleep before two o' clock in the morning, unless Douma told her he had some important meeting to attend.

His brother loathed the sun. Not a day passed without him cursing his impossibility to escort her out in the gardens, or downtown because of that lethal star shining in the sky. Sunlight could turn him to ash, or injure him badly as a nichirin blade. She had seen a katana before. She remembered the day he came back to their chambers holding it triumphantly in his hands. A month had passed since that day, still she could never forget the damage she had caused him with that weapon.

 

A MONTH AGO.

 

«It has just been forged, my dear! I have 'bought' it for you from a swordsmith. I think it's time for you to swing it around during our training sessions!» he had said, handing her the katana. She stared at the shining, deadly weapon, both in excitment and fear. 

She had never fought with a blade before. 

She had been training for years in martial arts, trying her best to keep up with Douma's hard training sessions. He wanted her to get stronger, to "best her skills", still she never understood why she was supposed to train if she was not meant to fight.

«Yuki-chan, my snowflake, take it! Hold it in your hands, I wonder which color the blade will turn into...» he encouraged her, patting on her head. He was slowly embracing the idea of her becoming a slayer, however he did not know how to teach breathing techniques. He could have asked Kokushibu to teach his one to his precious baby, yet he did not trust anyone around her. Plus, she did not have to be a professional demon slayer, right? 

He just had to empower her and make her able to defend herself when he could not slash her enemies to pieces

She sighed, cocking her head to the side perplexedly «Why did you get me a blade?» she asked, big doe eyes boring into his keleidoscopic ones. 

The Upper Moon Two grinned, placing it down on the tatami floor «Because I want you to become stronger, Yuki-chan! – Douma beamed – Now, be a good girl and unsheathe it» he instructed her, half-lidded eyes soaking up the unreadable expression plastered on her face.

She nodded, her tiny hand drawing the silver katana from her sheath. In a nick of time, the blade slowly changed its color: a dim shade of powder blue enveloped the sword. Douma gasped, clapping his hands in awe.

The brunette parted her lips in disbelief, her grip on the sword tightening «What... What am I supposed to do with this? I have never–...» she noted, but a sudden attack from Douma's lethal tessen made her senses awaken. Her sword clashed against his fan, blocking his attack. 

Her mouth ajar, she goggled at him in shock. How dare her defensor, her brother, her best friend charge at her? 

«What are you doing? What if I was not ready?» she babbled out, her hands shaking in fear and anger. How stupid of him.

The Upper Moon Two shrugged «But you were, my little snowflake. Cut my arms off, now» he ordered, staring deeply into her blue eyes. He was pushing his innocent human girl to her limits, she was utterly devasted by his actions, yet he had to teach her the hard way.

She scoffed «I am not going to hurt you, I can't do it! Please, stop it!» she barked, stomping her foot. Why was he trying to make her inflict him pain?

Douma took a step forward, then another and she beckoned him to keep his distance. Her hands were tightening the grip on the hilt of the sword, until her knuckles turned white. Sweat beaded her forehead and a knot formed in her stomach. Her brother, her savior, her best friend was acting like her enemy. It felt as if the world was crumbling around her.

«That is a nichirin blade, Yuki-chan. You learnt a long time ago what kind of damage it can cause me. Still, I want you to see it yourself» he said, discarding his fans carelessly on the floor. His arms outstretched in front of him, inviting her to slash them off.

She gulped, a shake breath left her lips in discomfort. That was a nightmare. 

«Do it» he pressed, a devious smile curling his lips up. Chills ran down her spine as tears peaked at the angles of her eyes.

«No!» she protested, choking on her own words.

«I am not the only 'God' walking this Earth, darling. – he continued, his voice lower and far away more serious than before – I have swore to stick by your side forever, to protect you from whoever tries to lay a finger on you, but there will be times in which I will not be around. The other 'gods', however, might hurt you... And you will have to chop their heads off of their shoulders with that blade» he insisted, eyeing her from behind his dark eyelashes.

She faltered, a tear ran down her cheek «I am not a murderer, Douma. What makes you think I can hurt someone, or you, out of everyone around me?» she asked, staring up at him. There was no sympathy in his eyes. He was giving her a order. 

«We are all potential murderers, sweetheart. All it takes to become one is being in danger and it does not matter who is your opponent. You will kill whoever is trying to kill you» he contented, before throwing himself upon her to slash het throat open.

She squaked in terror, hastily avoiding his basic attack and, before she could even realise it, Yuke had cut his arms off in swift swing of her katana. 

Blood splattered on her face, drenching her lilac kimono and dripping from the blade. Douma's arms were laying at his feet, slowly vanishing as dust as he hysterically laughed in happiness. She had done it. This little girl, his baby, had so much potential within her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her grip on her sword loosening. The blade darkly clattered on the floor as she ran up to him. What had she done? Hurting the only person in the world she cared about! Somethinh was clearly wrong with her.

She wrapped her arms around his torso, expecting nothing in return as she sobbed oj his shirt. However, she felt his strong arms wrapped around her tiny waist and she looked up at him in amazement.

«How... I have sliced them off! How is it even possible?» she quipped, her hands touching them in pure shock. The demon chuckled and picked her up, holding her close to his chest.

She was so pure, so innocent.

«My little snowflake, didn't I tell you that the only way to kill a 'God' is beheading him? You have to go for his head, not his limbs. We are capable of regenerating them. Now, let's get you cleaned up...» he soothed, planting a kiss on her forehead. 

NOWADAYS.

 

Yuki huffed, climbing down from the pile of cushions and pillows and made her way to the door. When she slided it open, she did not expect to see her former wetnurse talking to Douma. He was there, then. 

She decided to wait for them to be done and she sat behind the door, peeking through it to watch them and, luckily, overhear some bits of their conversation.

«Douma-sama, you should probably stop training the girl! She has a tendency on picking up fights with the other kids and they always end up badly beaten up. She is too strong even for the boys!» the woman cried out, eyes downcast as she ranted about Yuki's short temper. Well, she was growing up and mood swings were daily after she had gone through her first period. 

The poor girl felt so ashamed to ask Douma for help that day, in the middle of the night.

On the other hand, it was so hard for him not to devour her. The smell of her blood drove him insane.

«Maybe they should stop bothering her, shouldn't they?» Douma pointed out, fanning himself as the woman sighed.

«Actually they asked her about that katana... She always stroll around with it. Isn't it–» she tried, but she was silenced when a string of ice laced around her neck, strangling her. Yuki's eyes widened, yet she was not surprised about it. She knew about Douma's magic tricks and she loved watching him using them.

When she was younger, he sat her on his lap and created icy lotuses, or small puppets for her. He could manipulate ice and she always begged him to teach her how to do it too. Yet, it was impossible. 

"If you are not born with magic rushing througb your veins, you cannot do it", she reminded herself, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully.

«You are up for a talk, huh? – he said loudly, just to lower the tone of his voice to continue the sentence – How about you use this mouth of yours for a far way more important duty?» he purred, smirking down at the lady. The woman whimpered, her cheeks turning red. He always did that. Whenever he felt frustrated he dragged a maid in his private baths and demanded to be served.

Yuki did not hear what he had said and she retired back in her chamber, yawning. She was tired, tired to wait for him. However, maybe, she would have waken up in his arms the morning after.

Even though Douma was moaning sinfully, thrusting into the woman mouth as she praised her Master, he would have joined his baby later. He always kept his promises.

He grunted, his fingers tangled in her dark hair as the woman tried her best to suck him off. She felt her own flower clenching around nothing, the desire to be filled up by him was unbearable, but he did not care about her needs. That is why she dipped her hand between her tighs, fingers rubbing at her clit to relief the hunger devouring her. 

She moaned around his shaft and he scoffed, yanking her head back in anger «You little whore, what do you think you are doing?» he asked, his fangs protruding from his upper lip.

She gasped, her breath uneven and drool oozing from her mouth «M–Master, I am sorry... I just need my release too» she stuttered in fear.

The Upper Moon Two sighed, pushing her down on the floor. He did not say a word and gladly oblige as he parted her legs and lined his shaft at her entrance. In a few minutes, she was climaxing around him, him filling her up to the brim as he mercilessly pounded in her.

It was not enough. He did not feel love, or anything. He was irritated. That is why when the woman tried to cuddle him up, he snapped her neck. What was wrong with him? 

No one could be compared to Yuki.

Notes:

Thank you so much for the support and for motivating me with your comments!

Let me know what you think about this chapter

X O X O

Chapter 5: She hates the sun

Notes:

Hi there!

I’m sorry for the late update, but I loved writing this chapter.

Yuki is definitely growing up :)

«I don't like you» Yuki blurted out, narrowing her eyes at the guy in front of her. 

He sighed, his grip on the small bouquet in his hand loosening. Technicolor flowers falling at his feet and blown away by the feather-like gusts of wind were all that remained of his juvenile attempt to ask her out. 

«Wait, I did not mean to sound rude. – she added shortly – I'm not invested into relationships» she said, a small smile curling her lips. Was it the truth, though?

It was the fourth guy in a few months that had settled down and asked for her hand. Yuki, however, turned their offers down without even pondering on whether they deserved a chance, or not. She did not like them, she had never lied about it. Yet, her heart was not unclaimed. She refused to admit it, God, she was far from swallowing her pride and let the name of the man she loved falling from her rosy lips.

The guy nodded in defeat and took his leave in embarrassment. She did not feel any kind of remorse for breaking hearts throughout the Temple. No one deserved her, but him.

She sighed and glanced up at the sun. Another sunny day. She loathed the sun. During the hot summer days, when the scorching heat of the sun blessed the Earth with its rays, she was forced to spend most of the day alone. He could not walk by her side, stroking her cheek as they sat on a bench, or going downtown to buy whatever he thought would suit his faithful companion.

What was she to Douma?

She was going to turn seventeen in a few months. She was not a kid anymore. Most of her friends had already gotten married, some of them were even pregnant. Still, there she was, waiting for him to keep the stupid promise he had made years ago.

"When you will grow up, I'm going to marry you". 

His words rang in her head day and night. Maybe, she should have stopped waiting for him. Maybe, she should have moved on. All he had ever done was controlling her, gently imposing his authority on her and compelling her to become what she learnt was a slayer. 

She had million reasons to hate him, yet she held on the only one which gave her hope: her love for him.

She heard light footsteps making their way to her for quite a bit now. Her senses had become sharper. The hard training sessions she had been attending had forged her into a skilled warrior. No one could keep up with her, no one except him. However, her physical abilities were not enough to keep up with gods. That is why she had been attending other lessons with another God. Every single time she was in his presence, she found it hard to breathe.

 

ONE YEAR AGO.

 

«May I introduce you to Kokushibo-dono?» Douma purred, his cold breath fanning the shell of her ear. His hands were resting on her shoulders, gently squeezing them, and his tall figure towered over her from behind. His shadow loomed into the mostly dark room and overlapped hers.

The only visible track of her shadow was the hilt of her katana, protruding from her left hip. A white snowflake.

«He is a powerful God, darling. Even stronger than me!» he crooned, sending shivers down her spine. Her blue eyes widened as a man emerged from the dark. Six bloodshot eyes locked with hers and something within her cracked. Danger, she felt danger and a mystical track of sorrow enveloping her heart. What was it? Did she know that man? 

If they had never crossed paths before, he had not hurt her in any way. Still, where did this arcane feeling of hostility come from? 

She did not even realise it. Her legs moved before she could even process it. Her hand reached for her katana and she leapt towards him, her blade held up next to her ear, ready to slash him.

The next thing she knew, though, was that Douma was screaming her name and that she was on her knees, blood oozing from her chest. How? What did he do? Her eyes did not catch his attack. She winced and pressed her hand over the wound, trying to impede the flow of blood.

«There is going to be a scar... – a deep voice stated – That is your first mark as a slayer...».

She gritted her teeth and tightened the grip on her katana, not turning around to face her interlocutor as she tried her best not to falter. 

«What do you want?» she spat, inhaling sharply. She felt their gazes boring holes in her now arched back.

«I am here to train you...» he calmly replied. She did not flinch, her eyes sparkling in tears as she allowed a pair of strong arms to envelope her tiny waist. His cold breath tickling her neck stung for the first time ever that night.

 

 

NOWADAYS.

 

«Yuki-san, the founder is asking for you» a mild voice said. The brunette did not say anything in return. She waved her a goodbye and headed to his bedroom. The same bedroom she had grown up in, the chamber she spent her days in playing, reading and making those blissful memories with Douma.

The same bedroom in which people mysteriously disappeared. The same bedroom in which Douma invited women to entertain him. 

She did not bother to knock on his door before entering his reign. She did not expect anything, but him to kiss a worshipper or undressing her. Still, she was left agape when she spotted him shirtless, unbuckling his belt in the middle of the room. A celestial sinful vision. She had never seen a man undressing before. Let alone the one she had grown up with, the one she now ardently loved. 

His chiseled chest and defined abs were set off by the dim candlelight. His trousers were draped over his hips, loosened, and the v-shaped valley under his navel exposed to her innocent eyes.

«Oh, there you are, my snowflake!» he beamed, not even bothering to meet her gaze.

She cleared her throat and bowed her head at him, cheeks bright red «I demand your pardon. The maid  you sent has told me you were looking for me. I will come back later» she said, motioning to take her leave. 

The cheerful laughter of the silver-haired man, however, stopped her in her tracks. The melodic sound of his voice creeped underneath her skin, engulfing her aching heart in a cold embrace of love. His frosty love, his glacial breath.

«Ah, Yuki-chan, stay! I appreciate your company. I'm about to take a bath and... I'd love you to join me!» he crooned nonchalantly, folding his arms over his chest. Malice dripped from each and every word falling from his lips.

"Typical of Douma. Teasing me and manipulating me as a lifeless puppet" she thought.

She blushed and tried her best not to lock eyes with him. That was inappropriate and wrong. Still, the butterflies in her stomach told her otherwise. It was an invitation from him, from Douma, the love of her life. She knew nothing could work against him, it was pointless, but she was the only one who could always make him reason. She was rational, he followed his instinct as a feral animal. 

«I can't, Douma. And we shouldn't bathe together anyway» she stated, her blue eyes trailed on the black floral patterns decorating the walls. 

She expected her interlocutor to talk back and make her drown in his sarcastic remarks, yet she was aloof from knowing how deep his words would have cut this time.

He scoffed, cocking his head to the side «Why? – he asked, half-lidded eyes inspecting her frame – Are you too busy rejecting another potential husband? I'm running out of lambs to offer to your slaughter...» he deadpanned.

If the sound of a heart shattering into a million pieces could be heard, the whole Temple would have definitely been able to hear her one exploding. Douma, the one she loved, had just confessed that he had encouraged those people to ask for her hand. He was selling her as a doll, as a prostitute. Further more, he still claimed his right to force her to join him in his activities. One, that given evidence, implied being naked in the same room. 

She unsheathed her sword, her eyes full of tears, as she disappeared from his sight. Maybe she was still not strong enough to fight him off, but she was evene faster than him. Wind blew through her long, brown locks as slashed his throat open. 

Douma laughed, blood spilling from the fresh wound and splattering on her kimono, on her face. Fury in her eyes as she kicked him down. He landed on his back, fangs protruding from hos upper lip as she shook her head in disgust.

«Fight back, you coward! – she spat, ignoring his lack of clothes as she straddled him – How could you do that to me?» she cried out, pressing the blade down on his already open cut. 

Douma chuckled, his arms sneaking around her waist as he licked his blood off of his upper lip «Oh, Yuki-chan, I'm sorry! I thought you would have appreciated some attentions from a man!» he purred, smirking down at her. 

She screamed in frustration, her grip on the hilt tightening at his words «I thought you were the only one I could trust blindly! You knew I don't care about anyone, except you...» she hissed, tears running down her rosy cheeks.

«Oh, I see... – he whined, smiling up at her – You love me, Yuki-chan, don't you?» he asked her, quirking his thick eyebrows up. 

The slayer flinched, her eyes closed, as she started sobbing. The grip on her blade loosened and Douma took the chance to scatter the deadly weapon away from them. It was intense, intimate, weird, but when he flipped them over and smashed his lips on her ones, she felt her heart beat again.

Could the one who destroyed your heart put back the pieces to rescue you? 

It was brief, a blissful and soft first kiss. The kiss she would have never ever forgotten in her life, but his words stil ran through her head for years.

«You are mine, Yuki-chan».

Notes:

Let me know what you think about the chapter!

X O X O

Chapter 6: The heir

Notes:

Hello there!

Finally a new update! Grab some tissues, this is a pretty angsty chapter.

Enjoy the reading!❤️

X O X O

A FEW WEEKS BEFORE THE PREVIOUS EVENTS.

 

He had never given up on her. He trained children during the day and searched for her throughout the land all night long. Sixteen long years of agony did not break him. Urokodaki Sakonji, the former Water Pillar, never lost hope. 

The day he arrived in a village buried deep in the mountains, in a green valley, he finally recognized a scent. He had always had a keen sense of smell and, the moment he had held his niece in his arms for the first time, he could perfectly discern the different scents mixed in her blood. Yuki's scent was bittersweet: hawthorn and raspberries. 

When that peculiar fragrance pierced his nostrils, the world stopped revolving for him. He had found her. Yuki Urokodaki was alive. That crow had not spread a wrong information, a false illusion. The heir was soon coming back home, where she actually belonged.

Urokodaki spent weeks in that village, waiting for her to show up. The scent was there, always flinging around him, yet he could not find her.

It was a lovely day in the mountains and he was back at his daily stroll around the village. The sun was shining bright above him, when he bumped on someone. 

A brunette girl, blue eyes and pale skin gasped and quickly bowed her head. Eyes trailed on the ground, she apologetically spoke out «I beg your pardon, sir. I did not mean to cause you any trouble». 

That voice. That color in her eyes, those irises, and the elegance in her posture. A gust of wind was all it took to confirm his hypothesis. The missing member of his blood-line was standing right in front of him. 

«Nagi... Is that you?» Urokodaki breathed out. She looked like her mother, except for the blue pigmentation of her eyes and the luxuriant head of brown locks. Those belonging to her father, instead. 

Yuki's gaze flicked up to meet the one, hidden behind the mask, of the stranger she had bumped into. Who was Nagi? Her lips parted and she frowned at him, a glint of kindness sparkled in her eyes as she shook her head as a response.

«You must have mistaken me for someone else, sir. I'm Yuki and I have never heard of someone named Nagi around here» she stated, a small smile curling her plumped rosy lips.

The former Water Pillar halted, his eyes travelling up and down her figure, soaking in even the small details his eyes could catch. She seemed to be fine, no visible injuries and the robes she was wearing were expensive and clean. Whatever had happened to her the day she went missing, she had never been held captive. Whoever took her in their house that stormy night had grown fond of her, they loved her.

Her hand shifting up, resting on something hanging on her left hip made him falter, though. That was a hilt, she owned a katana. 

Her hands were not as smooth as the ones of a common civilian. They were coarse, callous. Did she know about demons? Did a Demon Slayer save her that very night and trained her? Too many questions pestered his mind and he knew he still had to dignify her with a proper answer. 

«My apologies, dear. You two look exactly alike. I miss that woman quite terribly» he said, his tone of voice nostalgic. It sent shivers down the brunette's spine. She was not keen to talk to strangers. Some of the people in the village addressed her as the glacial slayer. 

She patrolled the village and the nearby forest, chasing away the bad Gods and saving as many lives as she possibly could. However, despite being thankful for her excellent job, not everyone liked her. No one stopped by to talk to her, but this man did. There was something in him forcing her to stay and listen to him.

«I suppose she was someone you care about. Where's she?» Yuki said, her grip on the hilt tightening. She was nervous. 

Sakonji nodded his head «She was. A demon killed her. She was my son's wife» he explained, mentioning the existence of those monsters on purpose. 

Her breath itched and he knew he had hit a nerve.

«Are you talking about the Gods infesting the Earth, when the sun goes down? I happen to hunt them. If you seek revenge, I could help you. I am a slayer» she said, taking a step forward and staring up at that mysterious man. She was born to be a slayer, he could see it in her big doe eyes. The thrill of the hunt drove her insane. She was painfully reminding him of her parents.

Urokodaki Sakonji stiffened at her words. How could she be aware of the demons but identify them as Gods? Who was her Master? How could a respectable man, a Master, teach such a blasphemy about their natural born enemies to a student? 

«Tell me, young slayer, why do you refer to them as Gods? They eat humans, they feast on our flesh, they have been known among the Corps as demons for a thousand years...» he inquired, anger eveloping his heart.

Yuki narrowed her eyes at him, her heart skipping a beat at his words. Each and every of them causing a knot to form in her stomach and cold sweat to drip down her spine. Gods were not demons. 

Douma was a God, he was not a demon. Was he?

The girl blinked a few times, trying to ease off her mind from the sudden anxiety fogging her thoughts.

"Would he lie to me? What is Douma? If he is a demon, why hasn't he killed me yet? No, no, he is not a demon. Douma is a God. He loves me, doesn't he?" she thought, clenching her hands into fists. 

The familiar sting on the palms of her hands and the warm liquid dripping down her knuckles made her realise what she had done. Crescent bloody moons surfaced on her once flawless skin. It was not a good thing bleeding outside the Temple, or so she had been told.

«I have no idea of what you're talking about. I have been told of the weak gods roaming this Earth by my Master. Those are envious creatures, hating the powerful ones who do not harm people. Not all the Gods are evil. They are... They take good care of humans, they don't eat them» she replied, her voice breaking at some point.  

Urokodaki felt his heart bleed. She was clearly not trying to convince him, but herself. A gust of wind, blowing through her hair made everything clear. Yuki, her niece, Yuki Urokodaki lived with a demon. Her life depended on him. Still why did that monster give her a nichirin blade? 

Why did he make her a slayer? 

He needed to gain her trust. He wanted her to trust him and if he harshly dragged her away from that monster, she would have never firgiven him.

«Listen, young slayer, which breathing style have you chosen?» Sakonji asked her, staring at the horizon.

The brunette, eyes downcast, played with the hem of her white haori and sighed «I am learning a few forms of the Moon breathing. Still, it's like I can't master it. I feel like a...failure» she confessed, a faint blush reddening her cheeks.

Urokodaki Sakonji felt his heart shattering, still he boldly grasped her hand and held it among his ones. Saddness veiled the eyes of his niece and he nodded his head, taking the chance to offer her the opportunity that could have saved them both from living a life of misery.

«I am a retired demon slayer. My name is Urokodaki Sakonji. Would you like to be trained in the Water breathing style?» he asked her, soothingly drawing circles on the back of ger cold hand.

 

 

❆

 

 

The bendages around her torso fell down at her feet, allowing her to finally breathe. A bath could have helped her to make the right decision. Urokodaki Sakonji was a good man. Having grown up believing that Douma could not do wrong was restraining her from accepting the offer right away. A night, all she asked for was a night to mull his offer over.

She dived into the limpid water, her fingers tracing the edge of the scar over her clavicle. 

Kokushibo, the God who was training her until she collapsed on her knees spitting blood, or she fainted, had taught her not to falter. Nor on the battlefield, neither in the ordinary choices life put on your road.

«If only... If only I had nothing left here for me, I would have already fled away» she murmured, batting her eyes closed before tears could fall down from her dark eyelashes. She failed, however, and she gritted her teeth in anger. She hated crying, especially when the one who was throwing her to the haunts of Hell was the one she loved.

She took a deep breath and slithered down onto the water, holding her head beween her shaking hands. Tears mingled with the water as she sobbed. Memories of a specific night tormenting her.

Douma laughed as Yuki slumped down on their shared bed. Silky bedsheets gripped in her hands as she stared up at him. 

«Perhaps, I should have stopped you before you got that drunk!» he said, brushing his thumb soothingly on her cheekbone. She moaned, half-lidded eyes scanning his face in amazement.

«Have you ever been in love, Douma?» she slurred, enjoying the way the silver-haired man was stroking her cheeks. 

He quirked his thick eyebrows up, fangs protruding from his upper lip as he tried to avoid the question «Nice question. What about you, my little snowflake?».

She groaned in frustration, rolling on her side not to face him «I don't know... I mean, does loving hurt? Because if it does, you fucking bet I am. It sucks!» she blurted out.

Douma laid down, his arm wrapped around her waist as his frozen breathe tickled the back of her neck. A feeling she loved and loathed at the same time but that, somehow, made her feel safe and loved. Not alone, at some point.

«Love is not supposed to hurt. Love is a feeling of unconditional gratitude towards someone who had not made you feel out of place from the day you first met... – he began – Because, right from the start, you know that the place you belong to, your home, is exactly where they are. Wherever they go, you go. Whatever hurts them, you would love to destroy. Whenever they're happy, you are too» he had said, tightening the grip on her tiny body.

Oh, God, how she wished to be asleep by the time he had made her realise that she was irremediably in love with him. 

When she resurfaced she heard someone enter the baths and she folded her arms against her chest to cover her breasts from the eyes that always screwed up her plans, her certainties.

«Here you are, my snowflake! – the mild voice of her crush said – Your training is about to begin! Now, we wouldn't want Kokushibo-dono to have a look at your flawless, naked body... Would we? No, we wouldn't!» he beamed, glacing down at her body lustfully, before turning on his heels to leave. 

His fan hid his mouth as he chuckled and left the room «But, above all, I wouldn't want that. You are mine».

 

Chapter 7: The first love

Notes:

Here we go with another chapter!

Yuki's personality is kicking out. She is pretty wicked, geez. And, of course, this is going to get worse!

Plus, Douma is feeling emotions because of her. YES, because she is his weakness. But don't worry, he is going to be a real snake in the future. After all, this book follows the manga events. All of them.

Let me know what you think about it❤️

X O X O

The demon writhed in fear as the slayer hysterically laughed. Since when had she become a sadist? She stepped over his slashed abdomen, staring down at him in disgust. Her blue eyes were full of tears, but she refused to let them spill out. 

«Before I kill you, and you know I will, let's have a chit-chat, mh? – she said, sniffing –  What exactly are you?» she asked him, blade pressed down on his throat and drawing blood.

She had started training with Urokodaki Sakonji. She had mastered the Water breathing in just two weeks. He told her everything about the Corps, the Final Selection and the ranks she would have been able to climb, if she signed up for that exam. Still, they had never talked about demons. After all, she knew which were the creatures she had hunt.

"You are strong, Yuki. Whoever your 'Master' was, he did not train you to be a slayer. You are soon going to be a Hashira".

However, she had to know the truth. She was in love with Douma and the thought that he could have lied to her about his true nature was tearing her apart. That is why she chased after demons, torturing them until they were nothing but a mass of blood and flesh, and asked them what they actually were.

"They owe me nothing, why would they lie to me?" she thought, cocking her head to the side and pursing her lips.

The demon growled, sweat beaded his forehead as he tried to escape her grip «You are sick in the head, what do you want from me?!» he yelled at her face, tossing and turning beneath her iron grip.

She rolled her eyes and flashed him a fake smile «Poor little thing, I must have startled you... How rude of me! However, I have asked you a question, if I am not mistaken» she said, brown locks tickling the monster's cheeks.

The demon glared at her and finally regenerated one of his arm. He aimed to her face, but she sliced the limb off without even turning her attention to it. Her eyes were still scanning his face in disgust and she found his screams of agony utterly annoying.

«Now, was that really necessary? Come on, I'm trying so hard to be polite! Answer me and I will cut your cute little head off of your miserable shoulders!» she beamed, her face dangerously close to his one. 

Her breath, her glacial breath fanned his lips and the demon shivered. It was still summer, he had heard people complaining about the scorching heat of the sun, while he was hidden in the shadows. Still, if it really was summer, where did this piercing cold air came from? 

His half-lidded yellow eyes peered at her angelic face, then he felt it. Her body temperature was freezing cold. He had never felt something like that before.

«What's wrong? Did the cat got your tongue? Mh, let's check it out, shall we?» she whispered, slicing his mouth open. Blood splattered on her face as the demon groaned in pain once again and she giggled, wiping the drops staining her face away with her back of her hand.

«Oh, but your tongue is right here! Maybe I should cut it off too then...» she chimed, still someone stopped her. That touch, that grip. She knew who it was and her cheeks turned into a bright shade of red. What was he doing here? Was he not supposed to attend a meeting?

«Ouch, little snowflake, what's going on here?» Douma inquired, his silver hair glowing under the dim moonlight. He indeed looked like a God. And, actually, he was the only one she had ever believed in.

Eyes downcast, she shrugged «I am... Well, I'm hunting, isn't it evident?» she said, her grip on the hilt loosening as she was pulled away from that demon by the leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult. The creature sighed in relief and crawled away from them, in hope to be able to regenerate his limbs and escape his fate.

«No, Yuki. You were not hunting. – Douma noted, unfolding his fan – You are torturing him. You were enjoying seeing him in pain. I have never taught you that» he stated dead serious. 

 

Was he right, back in time, when he thought that she could develop a sadistic side, quite similiar to his one? He grimaced at that thought and pointed at the agonizing demon in demand «Kill him» he said.

 

She quirked her eyebrow up and, in a swift motion, she carelessly beheaded the demon. Her eyes watched the way his body and his head turned into ash, blown away by the summer breeze.

Was Douma upset? What had she done to anger him that much?

«Spit it out. Are you angry, or disappointed? I can't quite read you, Douma» she said, sheathing her sword back into its scabbard. 

The Upper Moon Two bored into her back and he huffed, hiding the lower part of his face behind his fan «I am just wondering what is wrong with you. Where is your humanity, Yuki? Where's the mercy you once showed?» he asked her, watching the girl run her fingers through her brown locks.

Yuki sighed and shook her head slightly, a limp forming in her throat forcing her to gulp forcefully «I'm doing just fine. – she started, her eyes burning from holding back her tears – Go home. I'll catch up with you later» she added, before motioning to leave the forest. 

The demon's eyes grew round and parted his lips in disbelief. Was Yuki avoiding him? Was she mad at him for something he had done? He thought that kiss had somehow mended her wounds, but apparently he was wrong. She had not forgiven him. His baby had never pushed him away. Where was the little girl that awaited for him to come back in the middle of the night? And the one who loved strolling down the gardens of his Temple with him?

He loved her. He had learnt to do that through the years, yet he was scared of letting her fully in.

"Loving makes you vulnerable. I was not expecting to feel any kind of emotions, but she made me feel the only one I am scared of: love. I have been trying so hard to persuade her, the  only woman who truly knows who I am, that I am not able to feel anything. I feel like I have always failed, though. She knows me, she owns me. And I, a monster, own her fragile human heart. I will have to play it cool in front of the other Moons and Lord Muzan, for I cannot help but love her. I give up, she won this wicked game" he thought, dashing towards her.

In a nick of time, Douma was standing right in front of her. His sharp visage softening at the sight of his Yuki crying silently for not letting him know what she felt like. She was in pieces. 

She halted, head turning to the side not to allow him to see her rosy cheeks and puffed eyes. However, he took another step closer to her and gently grabbed her chin to force her to look up at him. 

Yuki shivered and stared into his kaleidoscopic eyes, the beautiful cursed orbs that had made her fall deeply in love with him «Douma, I...» she whispered, her lower lip quivering. 

«Yuki, stop... Stop running» he murmured, sliding his hand up to her cheek and brushing his thumb on her cheekbone to wipe away a tear. 

Could the world stop revolving? Could a moment last forever? According to them, to the lost souls wandering in a universe in which they were not even supposed to talk, in which they were not meant to coexists, in which they should have allowed themselves to fall in love with each others, it could.

It was ancient history, it was the surreal event repeating itself. Sixteen years ago, a monster and a child were becoming friends. Now, after all this time, the same monster was giving his frozen heart to that magnificent woman. The child had grown up, though. She knew that, sometimes, your heart commanded you to chase after an illusion. Wasn't their love an illusion? Maybe it was to the world. Maybe it was for Urokodaki Sakonji, but not to her.

She was embracing her fate.

She did not know how long it would have lasted, yet she ardently wanted it. Their love was the only loophole she could dive in to remind herself that not all monsters were evil and that, perhaps, there could be at least an exception. And he was her exception.

«There is no coming back from it, right?» she whispered, allowing him to cup her face in his huge hands. 

Douma cocked his head to the side «Are you truly in love with a soulless creature? How can I, out of everyone, deserve to be loved? I am not used to it. I don't know how to love, Yuki».

She sobbed, one of her tiny hands reaching up to cover his right one «You are wrong. – she said, a small smile curling her lips – You do, Douma. You have always showed me love. Always» she said, before standing on her toes and trying to reduce the distance between their faces.

He faltered, for the first time ever in his life. Or so he assumed, he thought to remember it.

The Douma sighed, leaning down towards her, and finally sealed his promise to love her with a real kiss. She closed her eyes as their lips connected. She had never kissed anyone, but him. The first kiss was his, although this was the real one. Her heart exploded into her chest as their lips moved in sync, Douma leading the way. He was so experienced, she was so innocent. And when he nipped down on her lower lip she abandoned herself into his arms.

After a minute, or two, she felt his tongue pressing against her swollen, plumped lips and she parted them in confusion. The Upper Moon explored her mouth, a strange gentleness in the way he stole every inch of naïvety left in her. She did not fight him, not even when he picked her up and flattened her back against the tree. She wrapped her legs around his waist, as her fingers ran through his silky hair. 

When the kiss broke, Yuki was panting. 

Douma pressed his forehead against hers and held her close to his body, his urge to sink his fangs onto the crook of her neck was unbearable and felt sweat running down his spine. A growl escaped his lips and he lulled his head back, eyes revealing the kanji for the first time in front of her.

She weakly smiled, half-lidded eyes peering at his face «D-Douma? Did I... Are you alright? Have I done something wrong?» she stammered, concerned about her lack of experience.

The demon exhaled through his nostrils, releasing his breath as he tried to collect himself. He was close, he was so close to rip her to shreds and he felt a strange sense of nausea engulfing him.

«No, you haven't, my darling! – he quipped hurriedly – It's just the thrill of the taste of your lips on mine. You are divine» he purred, grinning.

She giggled, her eyes sparkling in joy. She felt light-headed and in overdose of the feeling that would have tormented her for her whole life: love.

The same love that had made her forgive him for having played with her heart, the same love that would have caused grief, death and hatred.

The love detrimental to the lovers themseves.

Chapter 8: A demon’s rage

Summary:

Hi there! I’m sorry for the late update, but I have tried to make it up to you with a slightly longer chapter!

Notes:

Warnings: underage sex, however it is consensual. Please, read the note at the end of the chapter for more informations ❤️

Sweat beaded her forehead, her vision blurry as she slumped down on the soft grass tickling her ankles. She had mastered the Water-Breathing in a few weeks. Urokodaki Sakonji knew she was special, she was different. Her skills were matchless. He had never felt his heart so full of pride and hope for someone, not after having sent his students to the Final Selection and not having been able to welcome them back home. Not after he had lost his family.

Being a slayer and dealing with feelings could be detrimental right now. He deeply cared about Yuki, his niece. Yet, he knew he had to act as a regular master and that is why he had made up his mind: he would have not told her who he truly was, until she had returned back to him, back as an official slayer.

She was ready to serve the Corps, there was no pretending anymore. Therefore, he had announced her that she would have been sent to the Final Selection the next month. She was excited about it and she did not stop thanking her Master for the opportunity he had given her.

However, worry and nostalgia had taken over her heart. She knew that, in order to fulfill her duty, she would have been forced to leave that place and leaving the village, the Paradise Cult, meant leaving him behind. How was she supposed to tell him that, not only she was about to leave for a suicidal mission, but that she may have not been able to come back to him in one piece.

«It looks like time is running out...» she whispered in the scorching summer wind, making some strands of her hair stick to her forehead. 

She was learning to lower her body temperature to keep herself always cool and refreshed, even if the heat of the sun made it hard to focus. She had realised it while practising the water forms. Sometimes, some ice shreds were unleashed by her slashes. While she did not do it on purpose at first, she was now trying to figure out a way to spread ice perpetually. A new breathing-style, a unique one. 

A breathing-style based on the meaning of her name, on the season she loved and themagical tricks Douma used to show her when she was a kid.

She sighed, sheathing her katana back carelessly. She knew no human being could manipulate elements, practise magic, if not under the influence of demon blood, thus making them demons. She knew what he was, then, she had known it all along. She had always fucking known it. However, blinded by love, she had always refused to turn him into her enemy.

"Sometimes, I wish I was still a little kid ignoring what's going on around her. The one who gasped in awe at the small ice puppets he made. I miss the old version of me" she told herself, fighting back the nausea threatening to overwhelm her.

The brunette rubbed the back of her neck in distress and stared up the sun, cursing it for it was the main cause of her disgrace. From all the men she could love, she had fallen in love with her natural born enemy. Still, if evil to the core, why was he so kind to her?

When she arrived at the Temple, the sky was tinted of orange and purple stripes, a sign for her to join Douma for dinner. Since the day they had kissed, he never left her side. A week had passed since that fatal day, a week in which he had tried his best to accomplish her desperate need of space. No kisses, no lingering touches over their skin.

However, it was unbearable looking the love of your life in his eyes and convince yourself he is nothing but a monster. She loved him. Did he truly love her, though? She knew Douma, she knew he lacked empathy. She remembered the stories he told her, when she was a toddler and she did not want to sleep. She thought the characters were just imaginary people, spirits at best, only to come to the logical coclusion now that the people he told her about were them. Still, why did he seem to be capable of loving her? Why did it feel real, if it was just a cheerful, empty shell he put on as a façade?

She remembered what he had told her eight years before. She was tucked under the soft, warm blankets of her futon, her lids droopy for having played around the Temple for hours. Every kid had got tired of chasing after her, she was unstoppable, her stamina reached peaks no one could, not even the boys. It was amusing at times, but eventually she felt utterly alone. They stopped playing with her, but Douma was there. She had slurred out something about not being loved by anyone and he had smiled at her lovingly, before saying an unexpected thing.

"It is impossible not to love you, Yuki-chan. You would even make the cold-hearted prince I have told you about feel something for you. It is rational, you could be loved by monsters too".

And, as a matter of fact, was he not a monster?

The moment she stepped into their chambers, she saw Douma smoking his water-pipe on his oversized bed. He was deadly handsome, his rainbow-colored orbs obscured by the smoke finging around him. His hat adorning his head, silver strands set off by the dim candle-light. He would have truly fooled people in believing he was a God. An ethereal monster looking like an angel.

«Ah, Yuki-chan... – he chimed, watching her discard her katana on the tatami floor – I've missed you all day long» he added, smiling brightly at her.

The human blushed and bowed her head «I'm sorry, Douma. I promise to join you as soon as possible. I really need to take a bath, first» she said, only to find herself involved into a tight hug. His scent made her breath hitch in her throat, her cheeks turning into a vivid shade of red as he slided his cold hand behind her neck.

«We need to talk first, darling» he purred, each of his word tasting like honey dripping down from a sinful tongue and coating her in a mawkish mess of love she could not escape. She was stuck with him, with her feelings and his elusive love.

Her hands gripped the red fabric of his turtleneck instinctively, their lips only a few inches apart as he intensively stared into her eyes, piercing her soul and forcing her to give up on her purpose to dive into a pool of tepid water. She cursed herself, she cursed her feelings and her weakness in that very moment. 

If she could not resist him, if her willpower crumbled at the most vapid of his requests, how was she supposed to point her blade at his throat one day? Little did she know he would have been her death.

«You are right, we do... – she whispered then, gulping forcefully down the limp in her throat – There's something I have to tell you and I honestly don't know how you're going to react» she blurted out, heart thrumming against her ribcage as if it was trying to break her ribs and jump right out of her chest.

Douma cocked his head to the side, reclutanly loosening his iron grip on her. For his whole life he had never been capable of feeling anything. Emotions were foreign to him. However, he had been a good listener to his followers. He had witnessed to various manifestations of what human beings felt. Thus giving him the chance to observe them, understand them and ever fake them. Further more, he had learnt to read Yuki's facial expressions, the tone of her voice and the shadows of her eyes switching to fit her mood.

And he could tell she was bloody worried.

While he was not capable of manifesting his emotions, whenever she was close to him, he felt everything. His mood, his feelings depended on her. If she was happy, he was too. If she was hurt, he felt like he was going to die.

«What's troubling you? I can tell something is bothering you» Douma said, unfolding his golden fan mechanically.

The blue-eyed girl averted her eyes on the floor, her breath uneven. Why was it so hard confessing that she knew about it, about everything, that she knew he was not a God? She could not. Not now, at least. But telling him that she was going to leave for the Final selection was the least she could say.

«You have been training me for years, but you never told me that I could make my ability to slay gods an actual profession. Recently, I have met a man. He is a retired slayer... – she began, tormenting her hands as she allowed the words to roll out of her tongue – He has told me that there is a Corps of slayers using different breathing-styles all around Japan. To become one you have to take a test, the Final Selection».

Douma stood silently before her. His eyes gloomy, the air around them turning thin and colder. She shivered, her hands shaking, but she did not take a step back.

It took a moment for the Upper Moon Two to properly reply something. He had tried to protect her from demons all this time. He wanted her to stay with him forever, maybe turning her into a demon in a few years, but he had failed miserably. Not only she was going to leave him, but she was about to wear that uniform she ripped to shreds while fighting.

She was going to be his potential opponent.

«Do you want to leave? Do you really want to risk your life in the Final Selection and probably... – he trailed off, some words could not escape his throat – Why? Haven't I loved you enough?» he asked her, his eyes burning.

And, for the first time, the tears spilling out from his eyes were real tears of pain.

Yuki parted her lips in disbelief, her stomach clenching at the sight before her eyes. She felt not so different from the soulless demons she slayed, in that very moment.

«It's not your fault, Douma... – she paused, grasping his free hand hastily and frowning as he flinched under her touch – I just believe that's my path. They need someone like me, someone with potential. I can save people... And you know that I love you. It does not have to change anything between us» she murmured, looking up at his towering figure, now looking extremely fragile despite everything.

The silver-haired demon stiffened, taking a step away from her «Don't you think that I need you too? Everything is already changing! – he retorted, turning his back at her – What's happened to you? Your skin is colder than a stone! You are so cold, where's my warm Yuki? I will kill the bastard that is taking you away from me!» he thundered, slicing one of his potrait into a million pieces. He was furious.

She yelped and watched the stripes of the canvas she used to stare up to for hours, as a kid, when he was not around. Maybe that was the side the demon had been shielding her from for years.

However, she knew that he would have never layed a finger on her. As she perfectly knew that, no matter how strong she was, Douma could rip her apart without blinking, before she even had time to realise he was going to charge at her.

Tears streamed slowly down her cheeks and she sobbed silently, watching the man she loved straightening his back and finally twirling his torso to take a look at her. What had he done? What a wicked monster he was for having made her cry like that?

«Yuki–...» he tried, his feet leading him towards her trembling form.

She shook her head vigorously, cutting him off «No! It's okay... – she choked out, puffed eyes boring into his kaleidoscopic ones – I am leaving in a month. I just want you to know that this is always going to be my home, no matter what» she blurted out, before storming into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

While undressing herself, head empty but filled with pain and regrets, she heard him knock on her door a few times. Why? Why did love hurt like that?

"It wouldn't hurt, if you fell in love with a human" she mentally noted, diving into water.

«Leave me alone!» she yelled out then, lulling her head back as her muscles finally relaxed after the long training sessions.

Douma did not listen to her, he walked in, not caring about her privacy, about her willings, he was the emotionless selfish monster who wanted to talk to her. He felt the sour taste of guiltiness on his tongue and weird urge to apologize with her. Emotions truly devasted him.

«I am sorry, but I can't let you go to sleep without a proper apologize!» he declared, discarding his cloak on the floor and approaching her in the bath.

Yuki's eyes snapped open and she gasped in contempt and embarrassment, her cheeks hot as she tried to cover her chest by folding her arms tightly against it «What an insufferable, egocentric, rude brat! Fuck off!» she protested, staring up at him in shock.

«Woah, calm down! I have never taught you to swear like that, young lady!» he joked, rolling his eyes and couching down to he at her eyes level. She was gorgeous, his beautiful and irreverent Yuki.

«Well, I did it myself! And guess what? You are the exact definition of a jerk!» she fired back, pursing her lips.

He cocked his head to the side, amused by her attitude «Ah-ah! Watch your tongue, or I am not going to be responsible for what's happening in a few, alright?».

She fumed in anger and took a step closer to him, until their faces were only a few inches apart «Sometimes, I curse myself for having fallen in love with a donkey like you! I truly–...» but it was his turn to cut her off.

Cold, plumped lips captured her ones in a fiery kiss. His hands cupping her face in his large hands, as she melt in his arms. A kiss was all it took for her to forget about his outburst earlier. She felt like they were floating and, when he hopped into the bath, not caring about his clothes, she allowed him to trap her between his arms.

«Forgive me, Yuki...» he pleaded her, burying his nose onto the crook of her neck. It was degenerating. He softly bit down the tender flesh of her neck, the love he felt for her, the need to feel her flesh against his one sent shivers down his spine. He was losing control of himself.

She winced, her eyes shut as she felt her legs jelly. Where was it going? Was it not inappropriate crossing the line before marriage? Still, she did not have the strenght to push him away and her heart desired nothing but him, his presence, his touch. She wanted him. Most of the girls of her age were married, some of them already pregnant, was she going to be the only exception?

«Douma, I... I would forgive you, even if you slaughtered me in your shrine. I love you» she whispered, tangling her hands in his hair. It did not matter anymore, nothing mattered. She knew her chest was exposed to his lustful gaze, she knew he was barely keeping himself together.

«Yuki, if I start now, I won't be able to stop» he pressed, kissing her lips as if they were made of ambrosia.

«I don't care. I want it... – she breathed out – I might not be able to experience anything else in my life. I will probably die at a young age on a battlefield, so please, please, Douma. Make my wish come true. I trust no one but you» she cried out, a constellation of tears on her lashes making her eyes heavy to watch.

«But I will ruin you, Yuki» he insisted, concerned about her future. A woman could be repudiated, if she was not pure. Her innocence, Gosh, he was going to steal the last ounce of innocence left in her.

"Better me than anyone else" the voice in his head said, half-lidded eyes peeking at her angelic face. He was not good for her, he was a devil relentlessly crushing her heart in his his sinful hands. But she was his humanity, his addiction.

«You are not the villain in my story» she reassured him, soft eyes staring into his ones.

Her delicate fingers traced the sharp features of his visage, a sweet smile cracking the last piece of ice enveloping his heart.

Yuki truly knew how to melt a heart.

 

 

                           ❆

 

She was sleeping peacefully in his bed, naked, a vermillion blanket draped over her waist. Something had changed. He had taken her virginity, her sweet blood mingled in the crystal-water had driven him crazy, to the point he had left the Temple and had chased down some poor slayers patrolling the area to satisfy his insatiable hunger. He resembled a beast, growling in the night. He was covered in blood.

It was dripping down his chin, it was plastered over his cheeks and hands. Half-chewed limbs and broken blades were scattered all around him, his golden fan reflecting his true nature: in his eyes a number was craved now, a number, he preyed the Gods he had never believed in, that Yuki should have never seen: Upper Moon Two.

«Slayers... I hate slayers. – he spat, swiftly chopping a girl's head from her dead body. – They are indeed unbearable pricks who never learn their lessons».

Notes:

I would like to clarify just a point about this chapter. As I have mentioned in the "INTRODUCTION", this story will contain descriptions and/or hints to sex scenes. Yuki is sixteen in this chapter, turning seventeen in the incoming winter. Obviously, this can be classified as "underage sex".
Since I do not particularly feel comfortable with writing descrptive scenes about sexual intercourse between a minor and and an adult, I have just decided to hint about it and focusing on the "virginity theme" in ancient Japan. As many of you know from Ume/Daki's backstory, prostitution and sexual encounters between men and young girls were, unfortunately, a widespread practise and Douma knew that losing virginity to a man that was not the girl's husband could have caused Yuki serious issues in the future.

With that, I would just like to point out that I do not accept in any way pedophilia. I am a law student, how could I? I am just a writer working not only on facts about the fandom but the ancient time reality.

Until next, I love you

Chapter 9: Akaza

Summary:

Hello there!

Here I come with another update. I am going to he honest right from the start: you are probably going to need some tissues and a pillow to hug. I am not going lie about the fact that I have shed a few tears while writing this chapter. However, I hope you are going to enjoy the reading!

X O X O

Notes:

Warnings: angst, murder, blood, violence and gore+ slight nsfw between Douma a woman (which implies cheating).

«I heard you're leaving tomorrow! How long will you be gone? Or better yet, will you come back to marry our gracious founder?» a woman casually asked Yuki.

The brunette sighed, combing her hair absent-mindedly and shooting an interrogative glance at the meddler of the hour. It was time for her to leave for the Final Selection, that was indeed true. However, she was surprised to hear that this woman knew about her incoming travel. Douma had always told her that most of the worshippers loved being fed with gossip by the maids, but while he kept on simply firing the guilty women spilling tea to their friends, she usually made them scatter away with a just a glance. Yet, she was genuinely curious about who was the backstabber who had blabbed out everything about her future plans.

«Who told you that?» Yuki said in return, a small, polite smile crossing her face.

The woman shrugged and handed a silver hairpin to the aspiring slayer «A little bird, you could say... – she trailed off, glaring at her – Anyway, it doesn't matter. Will you come back soon?» she inquired, malice glowing in her dark eyes as Yuki cocked her head to the side in contempt. She knew where the conversation was going. She knew what this woman craved. Everyone was infatuated with the Leader of The Eternal Paradise Cult. Lately, it was getting annoying, though.

"Alright, she's making me jumpy".

The brunette grinned at the cheeky woman and hastily snatched the hairpin from her hand, puncturing her palm in the process. The woman gasped and took a step back in horror, her eyes reduced to mere splits as she watched incredulous the crimson trickles of blood running down her wrist, her forearm, in irregular lines.

«The gracious founder will be surely glad to be informed that not only his worshippers are dumb, gold-diggers whores, but that also all of his maids are not trustworthy. It looks like some people are going to be kicked out of the Temple by the end of the day» Yuki explained, winking at the woman staring at her thunderstruck. Yuki felt better, she felt oddly satisfied.

Where did that acrimony come from? Was it the outcome of loving Douma? Was it jealousy? Or was it the anxiety for heading to a mortal exam without knowing whether she was coming back or not? Was that the real Yuki?

The woman fell on her knees, her frame shaking in fear as she stammered out an apology «I beg your pardon, my lady! – she yelled out, teary eyes glimmering under the dim candlelight dully enlightening the room – I didn't want to offend you or the gracious founder. I am nothing but an impudent, insignificant woman who went too far. Please, please, don't make my friends pay the price of my mistakes!».

Yuki frowned, eyes downcast, as she pondered what was the best decision to make. She was not used to opinionate about humans, she killed demons and demons did not deserve second chances. She knew that people who crossed her, or Douma himself were immeditely banished from the Cult. While she had never seen Douma escorting them out, she knew they were never coming back. No one ever did, not even that beautiful woman, who had willingly decided to leave, Kotoha, and her lovely child had visited the Paradise after their sudden departure. Yuki scoffed, she remembered how she wanted her to be her mom, back in time. The truth was she still missed her and her sweet baby. She had never had a mother.

However, she was irritated, indisposed. Kotoha was a good person, this woman was just a viper in disguise.

Yuki sighed, her hand secured on the hilt of her katana as her eyes landed on the bloodstain expanding beneath the woman's hand, flatly laying on the floor «Tch, you are staining the floor. Douma hates it when our chambers get dirty: he believes they become rather stuffy» she blurted out, before storming out of her bedroom.

She heard the woman crying out pitiful excuses and, probably, panicking over the consequences of her actions. However, she could not care less. Yuki had other plans. She needed to get ready for her travel, she needed to find Douma and inform him that she was going to the village to buy something and that she would have gladly spent the night at the Hot Spring with him.

After the blissful night they had spent in the bath, after she had given herself to him, things had changed. She had accepted her feelings for him. She had somehow menaged to subside her fear of not coming back to him, of believing that he did not love her for real and that whatever they had was nothing but an illusion. 

Douma loved her, because he was capable of feeling emotions only when she was around.

They had collected joyful memories together. He was scared to lose her and, after a few attempts of dissuading his snowflake from going through the Final Selection, he had eventually given up and helped her to train.

Now, as she strolled down the luxurious corridor towards the Throne Room, her heart skipped a beat at the thought of what awaited for her once she had become a slayer. 

It was a sultry summer night, she was straddling his lap and staring into his mystical eyes, when he cupped her face in his hands and renewed his old promise, the promise that had almost made her lose her sanity and question her morals.

«There is no one I want to spend my life with, but you. Allow me to make you my wife, Yuki. You are my humanity» he had whispered suavely, his lips hovering over hers. That gentle brush caused shivers to run down her spine and the thrill of an old dream coming true made her seal his promise with a kiss.

Now, always, in a few years, or in another life, she would have chosen him because there was no life worthy to be lived without him.

When she entered the room, she was welcomed by a small of group of people on their knees, chanting preyers to the Gods, tears effortlessly streaming down theit haggard faces. She was used to this kind of scenery and all she did was showing indifference and striding straightly to her lover. Hat on, his expensive black cloak draping on his shoulders, Douma welcomed her with a warm smile and open arms. He did not even mind dropping his golden fans on the ground for her. Nothing mattered when the only goddess he truly believed in made her appearence before his demonic eyes.

«Now, isn't that a vision I'm witnessing to? You look flawless, love» Douma chimed, causing the brunette to stare at her feet in embarrassment.

«You know I don't like it when you compliment me in front of your followers... – Yuki mumbled, glancing briefly over her shoulder to check on the crowd – Yet, despite your tendency to ignore my likings, you are still the standoffish, childish and lovable man I have fallen in love with. I guess I should accept the compliment and not complain about your shortcomings» she stated, winking up at him.

Douma grinned, hooded eyes inspecting her visage, and grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips. His pupils bored into hers as he planted a chaste kiss on her knuckles. What a tremendous casanova he was. He knew all her weaknesses and toyed with them easily.

«Whatever you say, my snowflake... – he crooned, sliding his free arm around her waist to pull her closer to his body – I want to make amends, though. What does it take for you to forgive me?» he asked, smiling brightly down at her. His fangs, his sharp and pearly fangs shimmered ghostly in the mostly dark room.

They were a constant reminder of his true nature and she gulped down forcefully before dignifying him with a response.

Yuki shook her head and reclined her head back to take a better look at his marmoreal face «A kiss, a kiss is all I demand» she whispered, locking eyes with him.

The Upper Moon chuckled and picked her up as he used to do when she was a kid. He missed those golden days of peace, far away from the agonizing moments of terror he was going ti experience in day. He entrusted her and her skills, yet he would have gladly taken that test instead of her, if he was a human.

«Kissing you is the equivalent of being able to amble through a field of spider lilies, blessed by the sun» he stated, before pressing his cold lips against her ones.

Yuki smiled against his lips, her heart-rate increasing notably under his touch. She even forgot about the inconvenience with their maids, too focused on savouring their little moment, too lost into his embrace. However, eventually she had to let him go with the promise to enjoy the last night before her departure together.

Douma watched her leave, her flawless, pale skin almost glowing under the sunlight as he stared at her from the shadows. Everytime she left and he could not follow her, protect her, he felt himself burning in sorrow and guiltiness.

The latter feeling derived from being a demon, a being not supposed to exist, a monster unworthy of her. She deserved purity, something that, as a matter of fact, he could not provide her now, but also back in time as a human. He was the definition of an abomination.

He felt impotent.

"I cannot chase after her in the sun and, perhaps, that's a sign I should not chase after her when the night sets. I don't deserve her. I never had and never will", Douma thought, unfolding his fan and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He had to do something to keep himself busy, while she was gone. He had to punish the defiant maids and that woman who had tested Yuki's patience. Oh, yes, he knew about their argument. He had witnessed to their quarrel and he admired his precious human for not having reported their misbehavior. Despite that, she did not have to know about the fate those women were going to face.

«Enough about your preyers! – Douma suddenly stated, a cheerful grin adorning his lips – You're all dismissed! I will now retire in my chambers. Please, spread the word that I do not wish to be disturbed unless you want to buy a ticket to Hell... I am talking to the beautiful women of the Temple, of course!» Douma evocatively mused, each and every word of his sentence dripping sarcasm.

He was definitely going to spend a lovely afternoon surrounded by marvelous women heading to Hell.

 

                            _

 

It did not take long for the three maid to gather in his bedroom. Finding Yuki's challenger had not been hard either: the poor woman was still trying to clean up the bloodstain on the floor, when he walked in. A minute of his attention was all it took for her to discard the rag carelessly behind her and join him in his private room.

She had had the privilege to sit on his lap. He could feel the bittersweet scent of her arousal and the sound of her heart thrumming in her chest, when he grazed his fangs on her neck.

«Gracious Founder, w-what about Yuki-dono?» the dark-haired woman asked him, melting under his touch. Her white yukata had easily pooled around her waist, her chest exposed to his hungry eyes.

"She talks too much..." Douma noted, twirling his tongue around her nipple and pinching the other one between his fingers. Humans, the were slave to lust and easy to manipulate.

The woman moaned, the maids watching the scene in both disbelief and shame the unholy show their boss was putting on in front of them. Why were they there? Why was the Founder touching Kimie in such an inappropriate way?

«Ara-ara, darling... – Douma crooned, pushing her down on the floor – Calm down, please. Won't you be a good wife for your Founder, hm?» he asked her, the cheeky grin plastered over his face making the woman falter in fear. Something was off and, therefore, she wriggled her way out of him, trying to scoot as far as possible from the very man she worshipped and craved.

The demon quirked an eyebrow up, an hysterical laughter erupting from his throat as he smirked at her «What's that fuss about, huh? Didn't you want to get rid of Yuki for spending some quality time in my company? Are you scared of me, you shameless slut?» his tone darkening second by second, each step he took towards her. He was furious, anger rushing through his veins and then, fans unfolded, he realised that for the first time ever he was dead serious in a fight. 

He was not killing as a duty, or to fulfill a mission. He was about to devour these women to the bone based on pure rage, to avenge Yuki. He actually wanted to murder them.

Screams of agony soon echoed through the walls, blood was splattered everywhere. The cieling looked like white sky of bloody red stars. The sticky substance dripped down his fans, droplets of it staining his angelic face. He did not used his blood demon art. He slashed them, tearing their limbs one by one in madness.

«Who would have thought I was going to wipe out an insult with blood today...» he charted, absorbing the half-eaten corpse of a maid.

The anger slowly faded away: the more he consumed their bodies, the more there was no trace of their existence left. His mind was dramatically chasing the ghost of his lover, wondering where she was, who she was talking to and he just fell on his knees. 

"She could never be proud of me, of this".

Tears streamed down his cheeks, migling with the blood of his victims. The salty water oozed from his eyes uncontrollably, there was no turning back from it. Was he now able to feel emotions even without her presence? Or was it a signal that he was slowly turning back to feel nothing, to be a numb, empty shell.

He was so focused on himself, on the trembendous taste of fear that he did not pay mind to the person standing on the threshold until he spoke. Yellow eyes, pink hair and the mark of "Upper Moon Three" were craved into his eyes. 

«What did you do? – the other kizuki sternly asked, scrunching his face in disgust – That's not even your eating style. I thought you absorbed people» he noted, arms folded over his chest.

Douma stared at him blankly, sitting the middle of the room, not in the mood to tease his fellow kizuki «Is there any particular reason why you are here? You despise me, right? I'm not in the mood for a blood battle, if that's what you are seeking...» the silvered-haired demon slurred, licking dried blood caking on his fingers.

Akaza frowned, squinting his eyes at his rival «Does it concern the brunette girl who terrorize the local demons? – the Upper Moon Three inquired, leaning against the doorframe – How can you, a freak without a bloody heart, care about a human? Don't tell me you have fallen for her...» Akaza pressed, but the moment Douma's glacial gaze met his one he knew he had hit a nerve.

The Upper Moon Two did not give a chance for his companion to retort something, in a blink of eye he pinned him up against the wall. Akaza struggled under his chokehold, Douma's sharp nails piercing his flesh and drawing blood. He should have not mentioned her name.

«Listen up, Akaza-dono, are you in the mood to be burnt under the sunlight? Do you want me to show you why I am the Upper Moon Two, while you are a mere Three?» Douma hissed, his fangs bared and a demonic, cold smile curled his lips.

Douma was never serious, not even while training. His true potential was kicking in.

What he did not know was that Yuki had spent a lovely day at the village, saying her goodbyes at the local employers, buying some white flowers and spending the rest of the afternoon thinking about how to make him happy, how to make sure their last night together was unforgettable.

Her blue eyes, eventually, stared up at the sky, now veiled by the night. It was time to get back home, it was safe for him to stroll outside now.

However, on her way back to the Temple, her dreams were inevitably smashed into pieces, the fragments of her hopes turning into mere illusions. That was the day she realised she was going to be disenchanted forever. 

The cynical, jaundiced Yuki rose up.

The smell of blood, of an unknown demon pierced her nose and she froze solid in fear. Did someone attack the Paradise Cult? She drew her katana and she dashed towards the entrance of the Temple and, when a man wearing white pants and yellow eyes emerged from the darkness, standing on the path, she did not hesitate to attack him.

«Breath of ice, first form: piercing cold» she stated, blinded by rage.

She leapt up to the sky, slashing the air in front of her aiming to the pink-haired man. Gusts of cold wind mixed with ice shreds invested him and, in a nick of time, Yuki's blade was a inch away from his neck. The blade merely scratched his skin, though, as Akaza, barehanded, grasped the katana and prevented it from cutting him any further.

The demon grinned at Yuki and she felt colors draining from her face. Did she just fail? How could she not slice his neck?

"Is it too late? Am I going to die? Did Douma die?" she asked herself, as the demon gently shoved her a few feet away from him.

Once she had landed back on the ground, she pointed her sword at him, eyes locked with her opponent. She felt the air getting thin and she knew that he was not just a lower ranked demon. Still, his aura was nothing compared to the one of Douma, or the even heavier one of the only Moon-breather user alive.

«Who the hell are you? Where's Douma?» she yelled out, her body temperature so low that her breath ended up in white, smoky puffs. It reminded her of the smoke hanging around her bedroom when Douma smoked his water-pipe.

«I've never seen a ice-breather user! You are incredible, kid! Now I see what he sees in you... Such a pity you don't want to become a demon» Akaza mocked her, cocking his head to the side. Her eyes were something he would have never forgotten, not in a few years.

Yuki scoffed and tried to charge at him again, but he just dodged her attack «I don't like to kill women, sweetheart. However... Your holy friend does» Akaza asserted, jabbing his finger at the Temple and stressing the 'h' in holy. 

The brunette knitted her eyebrows together, her blood running cold. What did he mean by that?

«You don't know him! What are you talking about?» she quipped, her voice faltering.

Akaza laughed and threw his hands in the air «He eats women, young lady! Have you ever wondered why he takes care of the poor ladies searching for shelter? And have you ever wondered where they go, when they suddenly disappear? Oh, come on, you are brilliant. Don't let me down, I have high expectations on your future as a slayer!».

His words felt like being stabbed relentlessly through the heart. She lost her grip on the blade, her lower lip quivering as her world crumbled into pieces around her.

«Oh-oh, don't cry, little girl...» Akaza taunted her, before turning his back at the girl and walking away.

Yuki choked on her words, her eyes shut as her own tears turned into ice «I will kill you, one day! I promise you we will meet again, you scum!» she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The demon did not reply and she was left alone in the darkness, to cry her eyes out.

That was not the way she planned her last day with Douma to be. When she made her way to his chamber, when she saw what he had done and he stared at her covered in blood, her own heart turned to ice. The white flowers she had bought fell down in a pool of blood, their petals turning red. It was a massacre.

Did the very man she loved do that?

«Yuki, I–...» he tried to apologize, but she shook her head and fell on her knees in front of him. Her clothes stained in blood, her body trembling as she stared down at the floor in dispair. She wanted to die.

Inosuke, his mom... Only now she realised where they went.

«Leave me alone, please...» she sobbed, refusing to look at him in the eyes. There they were then, Douma's fear coming true. They were doomed.

Yuki had just become his opponent.

Notes:

Let me know what you think about the chapter❤️

Chapter 10: The saddest part of her

Summary:

Hi there!

It’s that fatal chapter, yeah. Angst down here, guys. Please, bear with a sucker for angst!

X O X O

Notes:

Let me know what you think about the chapter! For the fanart I’m making, check out my Wattpad profile: Domaslut

He had heard her cry for hours. He did not foresee their relationship to expire in a pool of blood. He held on the forlorn hope of her forgiving him, of his precious Yuki to see past the monster he was. She did not call him anything bad. Yet, the sorrow in her eyes, the way her voice cracked, displayed nothing but disappointment.

Yuki knew. She knew what he was, she had known it since the very beginning and, despite that, she had chosen to love him regardless.

The Upper Moon Two was staring at the dark sky above him. It was a moonless, starless sky. Dawn was approaching. No clouds, no light, nothing at all. Just a blue ocean above the world, resembling a bottomless pit full of sapphires. 

The fatal day had come then. She was coming to him now, he could feel her heartbeat and the frather-light footsteps. However, she was coming to him not to kiss him. His snowflake had realized what he was. The saddest thing enraging the demon to a whole different level, one he had never experienced before in his life, was that it was the second time. He was meant to lose her again and again.

He knew their love was always meant to be, but never to blossom.

Their love was fleeting, yet effortlessly destructive. But he could not do it, no, he could not hate her. Not to mention he would have never ever hurt her, not now, not even in another life.

«Douma» she chimed, her voice merely audible. His heart ached and he shut his fan close.

«My snowflake is here» he stated, turning around to face her. Her eyes were dusted with fear, puffed and reddened. She had cried. He had heard her whimpers all the night, but he could not enter her chamber and comfort her. 

He was the eye of the storm. The cause of her grief.

«Kiss me» she whispered, her eyes closing in tiredness.

Douma frowned, half-lidded eyes trying to figure out why she keened to taste his demonic, sinful lips once again. Was it a goodbye kiss or another way to self-destruct?

«I thought you were going to leave me» he murmured, hesitantly walking towards his trembling, precious snowflake. Oh, what he had done to her. She was permanently damaged and he was the one to blame.

She sobbed, a few tears running down her cheeks «Shouldn't I, Douma? – she whispered, his glacial breath now tickling her lips – It's time for me to go. You know I'll never forget you. We were not meant to be friends, but I'll never curse the time we spent together. You've been my family, my home, my first epic love».

She paused, cupping his face in her hands and pressing her forehead against his one. It hurt like dying. She was dying, indeed. That man, her grandfather, the former Water Pillar had crushed her poor heart. Then, her lover had just proceeded in showeing her his true colors.

«I know who you are. I've known it for a while, but still I could not bring myself to hate you. I hope we will never ever meet again. I will make sure our paths won't cross. But if it shall happen, I will stand tall. I won't back down. Maybe, in the afterlife, we are going to meet again. You burning in Hell and me holding your hand, for I could not help loving you» she breathed out, her nails scraping his cheekbones slightly as he captured her lips with his ones. He did not deserve her.

Urokodaki Sakonji had just made his lover realise she was a natural born enemy for him.

Still he had been her first. She did not mind giving herself to him. A sixteen-years-old, a pure angel, slaughtered by a monster on his bed. But she was not scared of him. She wanted to give herself to him. He treasured those moments they spent together. He wished they had more time.

When Douma held her close to his body, backing her gently against the golden column behind her, she did not protest. And when he slided his hands behind her legs, lifting her up, she wrapped them around his waist. 

Oh, what a sin, what a tragedy. Was it not enough being infected by his tongue? No, she needed him one last time. Only then she could bury her love for him, let it perish underneath a thick mist of pain and snoflakes.

She would have made him her breathing style: a perpetual reminder for her not to love him ever again.

«Run from me in the daylight, for I can't chase after you. Promise me you will» he stated, unfastening his belt with one hand, careful not to let her fall down.

«I promise» she murmured, allowing him to enter her once again. Sinful moans filled the air, frost eveloping them as Douma started crying on the crook of her neck. Each thrust, each moan, each teardrop a stabbing pain through his 'emotionless' heart.

 

 

                         ❆

 

She had had enough time to write him a letter. She had covered herself in blood, when he had left her alone. Dipping her trembling fingertips into one of the pools of blood around her, she shivered and tears welled up in her eyes. She stared at the sticky liquid staining her milky skin and violents sobs shook her body.

She could not spend another minute of her life with him. Deep down, despite being conscious about the fact that Douma was a demon and deserved her hatred, she had already forgiven him. Her love for him kept on blaming his demonic nature and not him for what he had done. She would have always forgiven him.

How can someone, who causes pain and put you through Hell, be the same person who sends you to cloud nine and seems to love you?

«I hate you!» she choked out, clenching her fists so tightly that crescent bloody moons surfaced on the palms of her hands. She wished she was strong enough to let him go, to truly mean what she had just said. In the end, nevertheless, she loved him. He was like a disease she could not get rid of.

Yuki had no idea of how many hours she spent crying her eyes out, but she eventually grabbed a piece of paper and dipped the brush into the small bottle of ink on her desk.

 

"Dear Douma,

when you are going read this letter, I am probably on my way to the Final Selection.

I wish things worked out for us. I have been taught that demons and humans can't get along. I am not sure about it, but I am certain that leaving the Paradise and serving the Corps is the best decision ever.

I love you, Douma. You have been my family, my first friend and now my lover.

It's not going to be easy getting over you. I don't care if you lack empathy, if you sometimes can't deal with feelings and end up mistaking them. I will always love you. I am so glad that I've had the honor of being a small part of your life. Maybe, hypothetically, you truly are a gift from the real Gods. I do not believe in them anymore, however. If a real God existed, he would have let us be two common humans, two people in love. You were my personal God, Douma.

I want you to know that I forgive you. There is surely not going be a universe in which I cannot forgive you, or believe in your redemption. Be a better man in the next life. Be the man I know.

I promise you that if we are going to meet again, I will purify your soul with my blade and kill myself right after that. You'll be the saddest part of me.

Don't forget me, please. That's all I ask of you.

Love,

Your snowflake, Yuki."

She folded the paper and settled it on her favorite red pillow. It was time to say her goodbyes, for real. It was time to taste his lips for the last time. She took a bath, before. Clean clothes waiting for her and the splendid haori Douma had bought for her a few months ago.

It was white, just like the snow. A sky-blue pattern, resembling a liquid dripping down on the candid fabric, made it patently clear that it was meant to match with Douma's one.

When they made love again that night, something inside her heart cracked. She felt kind of numb, she felt frightened by the idea of losing him. No one could ever compare with him. She was alone, she was going to be a lonely, broken girl for the rest of her most likely brief life.

«Douma... – she breathed out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear – There's just one thing I want to know before I go» she said, a faint blush tinging her cheeks of a vivid shade of red.

The silver-haired man stayed silent, his rainbow-colored hues darting on her absent-mindedly as a sign for her to continue.

«Did you kill my parents?» she blurted out.

Douma grinned, lulling his head back against the column of his Temple «I did not. – he admitted, batting his eyes closed – Don't be reckless, Yuki. Don't go after him. I can't keep up with that demon too» he warned her.

It did not take a lot for her to realise who had killed them. She would have never forgotten those six bloodshot eyes. Her fingertips lightly brushed over the scar on her cleavage and she held her breath not the let some tears to spill out of her eyes. She had been trained by the very demon who had slaughtered her parents and she did not know it. She felt miserable.

«Promise me you'll stay alive» Douma spoke out again, snapping her put of her stream of consciousness.

She stood up, her hand wrapped around the hilt of her katana «I'll do my best».

 

Chapter 11: The final selection

«I'm not fit to become a slayer. I have never met a demon in my life, there's no way I'm going to make it out alive» a petite girl piped out, tears streaming down her face as she banged her tiny fists on the ground.

Yuki stared down at her, furrowing her brows in discomfort. She could tell the crying girl was younger than her by her soft appearence and the childish whimpers falling from her lips. If she thought she was not fit to become a demon slayer, why was she even here in the first place?

«Why don't you just go back home?» Yuki inquired, cocking her head to the side in contempt. According to her, it was just an ordinary question. However, only when she felt some eyes on her, she realised that maybe she had been a little too rough with a most likely terrified person. Nevertheless, she shrugged it off and rolled her eyes at them. 

She was probably still upset about what had happened earlier with the only person in the world, who had always taken her under his protective wing, the one who drew figures eights soothingly on her back and mended her bleeding heart, during her break-downs.

Yuki was not capable of conforting people, because she had never had to do it for her whole life. Plus, the small bits of humanity left in her were now frozen over in her chest. She felt numb. Empathy was something buried deep into her soul, a feeling she could not confide in for the future.

When she had arrived at the Mount Fujikasane, approximately two hours ago, she knew only one thing for sure: from now on, she could have only trusted herself. She was alone, only looking forward to show up at Urokodaki's place, if she menaged to survive the Final Selection. She had nobody on her side.

And that was most likely what she was thinking about, when she spoke out again.

«Hey, listen up... – she said then, glancing down at the still weeping girl – Stand up and fight, if you wish to survive. There's no one watching your back, you are going to be alone in the woods. The only person you can rely on is yourself. If your Master thought you were not ready for this, you wouldn't be here» she rebuked the girl, earning some other looks of disdain from the other swordsmen around them. Once again, she ignored them. Did she inherit Douma's incapability to feel emotions? 

The raven-haired girl did not even bother flicking her gaze up to the brunette, hiding her face behind her shaking hands instead.

"What a coward. She is surely going to die" Yuki thought, batting her eyes closed to clear her mind.

Perhaps, she should have just minded her business and waited alone for the exam to start on her own. However, when she had spotted that fragile girl shaking and praying for the Gods to spare her life, she had felt the urge to check on her. Why? The truth was she had cried for hours on her way to the Mountain and hearing someone crying got on her nerves, or clenched her stone cold heart in her chest.

«Damn it...– Yuki groaned out in frustration, eyes snapping open and hand outstretched towards her fellow slayer – I will protect you. I promise, you are not going to die in there» she announced, lips reduced to a thin line and eyes peeking down at the poor girl.

Then, all of a sudden, green leaf eyes bored into her blue ones, as the girl hesitantly grasped her hand and feebly asked «Why?».

«Because you're helpless and... – she paused, almost giving in to her human nature – Nevermind. Just quit crying, it's irritating» Yuki shortly replied, pulling her back on her feet easily.

The younger girl weakly smiled up at her and threw her arms around her neck, involving the apparently cold stranger into a tight hug. Yuki gasped, hands raised and not finding a place to settle on as she heard people laughing at the pitiful scene before their eyes.

Why being hugged felt so weird to her? A foreign sensation, indeed.

"It's because she is not him, that's why". 

After a few seconds, Yuki rolled her eyes, her fingers grasping her shoulders and pushing the girl away, causing her to stumble back and tripping on a rock. Yuki grimaced at her and watched as the black-haired girl, wearing a nice, golden hairpin landed on her back with a loud thud. That girl was a mess.

«You're way too clusmy... – Yuki noted, arching a eyebrow and jabbing her finger at her  – You better do exactly what I say, or you're going to get us both killed» she coldly stated in contempt.

«Argh... Well, I'm not a great fighter. I've already told you that. – the girl murmured, dusting away some dirt from her yellow yukata – Yet, you are hella strong... How is it possible?» she questioned the brunette, fixing the rest of her clothes, once she was standing back on her feet.

Yuki felt a sharp pain through her heart, but she kept her head high and flashed a thin-lipped smile at her interlocutor «I've trained hard. I'm Yuki, by the way» she hastily changed the topic.

"I cannot let myself remember the way he touched me, when his nails scraped my hips to adjust my pose" she mentally rebuked herself, tucking a strand of her hair behind her left ear.

«I'm Inoue Kichi... – she introduced herself – And, I mean... Are you just Yuki?» the petite girl asked, rubbing the back of her neck in confusion.

"Right, Kichi. These are the perks of being an orphan and living with a demon" Yuki would have loved to say. However, she bit her tongue and nodded her head firmly.

Kichi smiled happily and fumbled with the hem of her sleeve, probably going back to pray. From what Yuki had heard before approaching her, it was probably the only thing she was good at. Yuki had never prayed in her whole life. Maybe, just once or twice, but the Gods had never listened to her. After spending years of her life believing divinities walked the Earth and that Douma was actually one, she had lost hope. However, she had witnessed to the religious ceremonies back at the Temple, she had heard Douma's loyal followers whispering praises and glorifying him in such a devoted way that she was now capable to tell whether or not someone was a believer and, as a matter of fact, Kichi was one.

"Such a pity she does not believe in herself, but in uncertain icons" she scornfully mocked her, not speaking her thoughts aloud.

Sighing, Yuki unsheathed her katana, and crouched down to inspect it. Never in her life she had broken her sword. It was still as intact as it was the day he had gifted her with it. How ironic was it that she was going to slay demons with a weapon she had received from one of the very creatures she was asked to kill?

Absentmindedly, she tilted the sword sideways, looking for possible cracks and chips, but what her eyes were met with were no cracks. It not after long that, indeed, that she saw a guy's reflection on the shiny blade. Two piercing red and yellow hues, wild blonde hair and a wide smile curling his plumped lips, he was curiously peeking at her.

Before he could even speak, her head whipped towards him and a questioning look spread on her face «What do you want? Who are you?» she bluntly asked, quirking a long eyebrow up.

The stranger chuckled and bowed his head at her «I intend no harm, I promise! – he declared, holding his hand out for her to shake – I'm Rengoku Kyojuro, nice to meet you» he cheerfully introduced himself, rounded eyes locked with hers.

Yuki stood back up, sheathing her sword back into its scabbard, and shook his hand firmly «Pleased to meet you. I'm Yuki. Before you proceed in asking me inappropiate questions, I am just Yuki. – she stated, darting her eyes briefly on Kichi, who was now trying to catch up with their small conversation – How can I help you, Rengoku-san?» she added, her characteristic thin-lipped smile adorning her lips.

Kyojuro waved his hand at her and softly smiled «Oh, there's no need for formalities. Call me Kyojuro. – he corrected her, before gesturing at her katana – Actually, I was just admiring your blade. I have never seen such a light and peculiar color. What's your breathing-style?» he asked, folding his arms against his toned chest.

Yuki wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword, her heart jumping out of her chest in a sudden realisation that she was probably a rather uncommon slayer «Uhm... My breathing-style is based on ice. It's derived from the Water breathing-technique» she timidly answered, staring down at her feet.

Kyojuro's eyes grew round and a mild voice squeaked out from behind her, as a sign that Kichi was apparently about to join the conversation «Ah, did you really master a breathing-style to the point of creating a new technique? No way! I knew you were strong!» the raven-haired girl piped out, sliding her arm around Yuki's waist. 

No, not again. It was enough.

«Argh, alright, it's time to set another rule! No hugs!» the brunette snapped, abruptly shaking Kichi's arms off of her and backing away to put a relatively comfortable distance between them. She used to love physical contact, once.

Kichi pouted and nodded her head, as Kyojuro chuckled and cocked his head to the side «There's no need to be that jumpy, Yuki! I look forward to get to know you better. Luckily, we'll meet again in a week» he cheerfully added, a slight shade of red tinging his cheeks.

"Why are people so kind, although I keep on pushing everyone away?" Yuki asked herself, but before she had a chance to reply something about how it was up to fate, a soft voice chimed in and a defeaning silence swallowed the group of trainee slayers about to enter the deadly forest.

 

 

                            ❆

 

 

Screams of agony spread through the area. The moon shone bright above them, a celestial vision which seemed to remind the slayers that there was still hope. The first hours spent in aimlessly walking down the desolate path, making their way through the matted brenches were strangely peaceful. Nor demons, neither slayers were around. There were just Yuki and Kichi, searching the road for any possible attack.

«I'm glad we've not met a demon yet. We're so lucky! Not that I don't feel safe with you by my side, but I think I'd be a burden anyway...» Kichi commented, slumping down to rest a bit.

Yuki handed her a mochi and shrugged «Actually, I crave some blood. Plus, they're not too far from here. Have you heard those screams earlier? – she said, inspecting the area suspeciously – Can I ask you something?» she added then, settling the box of mochis on the small space between them.

Kichi took a bite from her snack and nodded her head «Anything».

«Why do you think you are a burden?».

«Because that's what I've been told since I was born. My mom kicked me out of our house, as soon as she found out I can't see with my left eye... — she trailed off, wiping her mouth with her sleeve – A retired slayer brought me to his Estate and took care of me as if I was his daughter» she explained, a gloomy expression dusting her usually sparkling eyes.

Yuki averted her eyes from the sky to her new companion. She knew what pain was, then. Maybe, her jovial nature was just a façade to mask her sorrow. The brunette nodded, fluttering her eyes close for a few seconds before switching the topic from her past, to her skills.

«What's your breathing-style?» she asked Kichi.

The girl snapped her head towards her, mouth stuffed with food and a baffled expression on her face. It took all of Yuki's willpower not to burst out laughing at her face and she was forced to occupy herself with tying her hair in a ponytail. What was that? Amusement? Where did it come from?

«I am a flower-breathing user. It's not that powerful, I know... But I'm fast and precise! I could be a good sidekick, I guess» she beamed, blushing slightly and lolling her head back to admire the navy blue sky over them.

It was peaceful, maybe too peaceful, and Kichi could not see the clawed hand trying to slash her face from the left, but Yuki did. She moved faster than a shotgun, wrapping her arms firmly around Kichi's waist and hastily dodging the attack aiming to the girl's throat.

Kichi skrieked in fear as they landed a few feet away from where they were sitting, the demon's claws smashing the huge rock behind them instead. A low growl escaped its throat as the demon made its appearence before them. 

«I told you I'm a burden! I'm sorry!» Kichi sniveled, sweat beading her forehead.

Yuki scoffed and unsheathed her sword, eyes locked with the red ones of her opponent «Rule number three, Kichi: shut your mouth, when I'm engaging a fight».

Kichi flinched and reached for her own katana, only to see the demon charging at them. Drool dripping down its chin, teeth as sharp as a razon blade, it was ready to tear them apart limb for limb. She tried to move, she really tried, but she could hardly take a step back. Her feet were glued to the ground, her eyes full of tears. Was it going to kill them both?

She closed her eyes, praying the Gods their souls to keep, when a throaty growl pierced her ears. The fatal blow she was waiting for never came. Where was the demon? And Yuki? The raven-haired girl slowly lifted her lids to check on her new companion, but she was not expecting to witness such an improbable scene.

«Gosh, you're truly hideous. Hasn't anybody ever told you?» Yuki blurted out, a ounce of amusement permeating her voice. Blood was splattered all over her face, a malicious grin adorned her lips as she twisted the blade into the demon's mouth.

«Yuki... W-What are... What's going on?» Kichi stammered, clasping a hand over her mouth in shock. Was Yuki fooling around with that monster? Why wasn't she scared? If she had blocked its attack, why had she not beheaded it right away?

Bad habits don't die.

Yuki cocked her head to the side, kicking the demon in the middle of its chest to shove it away «Come on! Entertain me!» Yuki chimed, eyes void as she twirled her katana above her head in excitement. The thrill of that infamous night when she had tortured a demon and only got stopped by Douma played on repeat in her mind. He had stopped her, back in time. Now, however, he was not there and she could finally take out her rage on whoever crossed her path.

«Yuki, don't mess around, please... J-just kill it!» Kichi pleaded her, folding her arms against her chest.

The brunette ignored her suggestion and watched as the demon got back on its feet and flicked its gaze up at her once again. The irk mark on its forehead was evident as it took a step forward and spat out an answer.

«What's a Pillar doing here? And why haven't you killed me yet?» it roared, 

«Ouch, you are really that dumb, huh? I'm no Pillar, you scum. I was just hoping to have some fun with you... – Yuki said, smiling brightly at her interlocutor – But you are way too weak and ugly, darling. Do you mind if I cut you into smithereens and watch you turn into dust? I think my friend Kichi here would enjoy the show too!» she beamed, tightening her grip on her katana.

«What?!» Kichi shouted in disbelief.

The demon eyes grew round and it bared its teeth at her «What an arrogant brat! You're too rude to be a girl».

«And you fucking stink» Yuki complained, a smug smile plastered over her angelic features.

It was enough. The demon charged at her and Yuki smiled at it, before sprinting towards it and leaving a trail of ice and snowflake behind her. The point of her sword froze over as she hastily pricked the demon's throat with it.

«Breath of ice, third form: frozen kiss» she whispered, gracefully landing behind her victim.

It was crazy how a mere scratch could freeze someone over. The demon choked on its words,  its hand reaching up to the wounded flesh of its neck as if it was trying to figure out what was happening to its body. Ice covered its body, that was happening, cracking its skin open and, in a nick of time, its head exploded.

Ice shreds mixed with the dust of its decaying body filled the air and Kichi fell on her knees in amazement. Never in her life she had seen something like that. Was it an hallucination?

Yuki turned around and sighed, her thumb wiping away some blood still staining her pale cheek «Shall we go?».

«Yes, Yuki-sama...» the astonished kid said, blushing slightly at her new idol.

Notes:

Hi, my dear readers!
Long time no see, but I have been hella busy. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. I will try to do my best to update again in a few days.

Kyojuro is in the final selection with Yuki! Also, Kichi will be a good sidekick, I promise!

X O X O

Chapter 12: Swordsmen

Notes:

A new update! Woah, I can’t believe it!

Anyway, another turning point. Let’s enjoy these peaceful moments before the storm crashes our hopes

X O X O

«Kichi, it's over...» Yuki softly announced, a small smile crossing her face. Seven dusks, seven dawns, twelve demons killed. They had made it out alive. She had kept her promise.

"You don't have to worry about me, Douma", she thought, watching as her ally bursted out into tears. Most likely tears of joy and gratitude, though. 

The brunette sighed, batting her eyes close to inhale the sweet scent of wisteria surrounding them. How could such a beautiful paradise border a grim forest, where people succumbed to blood-thirsted monsters? Well, maybe it was a metaphor, something that denoted how there is no peace without war, a perpetual reminder that, after all, good and evil coexist and there is no Paradise without Hell. Were they not the same religious concepts Douma denied the existence of? 

Douma. He kept on pestering her mind like a disease she could not get rid of. 

And as if she had no control over her own thoughts, her mind started wondering, until the memories of that lovely night in Douma's private garden played before her eyes like a lucid dream.

She was sitting on his lap, as he was combing her hair gently. The idea of him being a demon and of them being parted forever in the afterlife was consuming her like one of the candles Douma loved to light up in his bedroom. She was melting down like wax.

«Do you believe in Paradise?» Yuki had asked Douma out of the blue, causing him to stop his maniacal ministrations with her hair. He loved her hair, he loved buring his nose into them, when she slept next to him. How could he deny himself the plesure of being the big spoon, when she curled up in a ball next to him?

«I don't, darling. – he chimed, propping his chin on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist – Do you?».

«I like to think I can see you on the other side, one day. – she confessed, lolling her head back onto his shoulder – The thought of losing you makes me want to hope I was never born» she added, watching the graceful dance of a few fireflies among the daisies and dandelions docorating the refined garden.

Douma took a moment to answer. The butterflies in his stomach were not easy to deal with. He had come to the conclusion that he loved her, that he would have done anything for her. But it was hard discerning what were the things she would have appreciated him to do or say and the ones that could have caused her to push him away. Lying, still, was not an option. He wanted to tell her exactly what he felt and thought.

«No, no, Yuki-chan. Don't say such a blasphemy ever again. If you were never born, I would have never laernt to love! – he said, planting a kiss on her cheek – This feeling you instilled in me, the way the idea of spending my life with you makes me ecstatic are, most likely, the closest representations of what Heaven must be like for those who believe! You see, I don't believe in the existence of an etheral, empiric Paradise in the afterlife, because you are my Paradise and, as long as I am with you, I am glad to experience my personal Heaven» he said, a toothy smile framing his angelic features.

She glanced at him in disbelief, big doe eyes scanning his multicolored ones in search for the slightest ounce of deceitfulness, but all she found were sincere orbs and her lips connected with his ones in a passionate kiss.

«Promise me something then» she whispered, cupping his face into her hands, once their mouths parted.

The demon blinked at her, his hands settling over her ones as he waited for her to continue «Anything, my snowflake!».

«If you are wrong, if there are such things as Heaven and Hell and we are, for some reason, not going to reunite, promise me you are going to look for me in another life. If we reincarnate, I want you to search the world for me and spend another life by my side» she demanded, her eyes glimmering under moonlight in a candide hope that he was not allowing the world to crush their love.

How poetically tragic she was. She loved him unconditionally and he felt guilty about it, but he had to lie to her. Douma knew that if Heaven and Hell existed, he was going to be thrown into the depths of Hell. He was a murderous demon, the infernal demension was devised for him. Despite that, though, he had experienced what was denied to most of the other demons: love and the bliss of being blessed by the pure touch of an angelic being.

But he would have been damned, if once he had reincarnated, he was not going to claim her back. Maybe he would have even been a better man, who knew?

The silver-haired demon smiled brightly at only woman he had ever loved and wrapped his arms around her waist «If I was cursed to die at midnight and come back to life every single day, for the test of my pathetic life, I'd spent every minute of my time left on this Earth looking for you».

It was someone gently elbowing her rib that snapped her out of the catatonic status she had fallen into. When she darted her eyes on the disturber of the hour, she was not even surpised to realise it was Kichi. However, living or, better yet, trying to survive by her side had somehow helped her to bear with the childish antics and nagging mannerisms of her fellow slayer.

«Yuki-sama, are you alright? We need to catch up with the others!» Kichi entusiatically cheered, grasping Yuki's hand and tugging at it.

"Look at her. Does she not mirror a child dragging their parents to a sweets stand?" the brunette thought, rolling her eyes at the younger girl and gesturing for her to go ahead.

«Stop calling me 'Yuki-sama'. It's disturbing. – she tiredly grumbled, punching the bridge of her nose with her free hand – Just go ahead. I'm a step behind you» she added, wriggling her hand out of her raven-haired girl's grip.

Kichi huffed and shook her head «Ugh, you're so grumpy at times, I can't truly comprehend why! You know, I'm chagrined, but not suprised... – she trailed off, a sly smile creeping on her pink lips before she turned her back at her – See you later, Yuki-sama!» she chirped out, irking the brunette on purpose.

Yet, a dry laughter escaped Yuki's lips as she watched Kichi jogging towards a small crowd of ten people gathered a few feet away from them. Ten people. The blue-eyed girl remembered that the number of candidates enetering the woods was about fifty. Apparently, the majority of them had been devoured throughout the week.

Her attentive eyes analyzed the group of people drained, covered in blood and dirt, and her heart skipped a beat. 

Where was he? Was he one of the victims too?

She had thought about him in the last few days. They had not crossed paths, but she had the weird feeling of being constantly watched. While in the nights it could have been one of demons lurking in the shadows, in the mornings it must have been a human being. She had not told Kichi about her doubts and forebodings, she was all nerves and she would have probably freaked out. 

Why did she think it was him? Her good sense of smell granted her the chance to recognize people by their scent. Rengoku Kyojuro smelt like a campfire and, every time she felt eyes boring holes on her back, her nostrils were pierced with that peculiar scent.

«That's sad...» Yuki commented, her grip on the hilt of her katana tightening as a coping mechanism to deal with irritation.

Was she upset about his departure? How? She had barely exchanged a few words with him. Maybe it was the way he seemed to radiate such a passionate energy that had empowered her before entering the woods. Or maybe the bitterness indulging on her tongue was solely due by the broken promise to "know each others better in a week".

Then, a gust of wind blew her delusion away and the booming voice of the swordsman she had longed to see again pierced her ears. He was alive then. He had made it too. She twirled around, her eyes locking with the red and yellow hues full of life she could not shake from her memories. 

«Ah, Yuki-san! It's so good to see you again!» Kyojuro beamed, approaching her with a rather atypical enthusiasm for someone who had spent a week fighting for his life. However, she knew he was built different. He radiated warmth, something she was definitely used to.

«Oh, Rengoku-san. – she greeted him, a thin-lipped smile adorning her lips – It's good to see you too. I hope you have not endured too much stress during your permanence in the woods. Then again, we knew exactly what we had signed in for» she said, bowing her head at him. He did not appear to be tired at all, the flame-breather user probably had good stamina. Well, exactly like her, naturally. 

Urokodaki Sakonji would have not agreed with her humble way to degrade herself, though. He believed she had honed her skills almost to their peak. The Final Selection could have been labeled as a superfluous formality, according to him. Perhaps, he was right.

She did not expect him to be that cheerful, insofar as he had faced death.

«I'm doing great! I assume you are doing just fine yourself. I'm glad you are not injured! – he promptly replied, dusting away some dirt from his white haori – It has been an amazing experience, actually. Adrenaline, glory, willpower. I have never felt more alive in my life!» he chortled, thag glorious smile of his always plastered over his face.

He made her feel almost uncomfortable. She could not reckon a day passing by without seeing Douma smiling, or trying to make her smile. If she closed her eyes, she could clearly hear him joyfully chuckling, filling the air with a merry atmosphere. However, the demon's smile was fake, Rengoku's one was spontaneous.

«Are you always so energetic?» she curiously asked, cocking her head to the side to study his persona.

«Are you not, Yuki-san?».

She pursued her lips, eyes focused back on the small group of survivors waiting for them to catch up with them «I am, indeed. I admire you, Rengoku-san. There's nothing wrong with being positive. I wish I could just smile a little more, you know?» she stated, watching as Kichi was hugging every single person she bumped into.

"What a child".

Rengoku Kyojuro glanced at Yuki, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuring. She flinched under his firm grasp, he could feel the way her muscles tensed under his fingers and he hesitated, before going any further. She had never been touched by any man but Douma. Especially in this way.

"Still, he left frost on my skin. This guy is quite the opposie. Being touched bt him feels like boiling lava is sizzling my skin" she noted, glancing up at him almost bashfully.

Once their eyes met again, he blessed her with a friendly grin «Then, Yuki-san, I think it will be my duty making you smile from now until I take my last breath».

And they did not know it then, aloof from realising how dearly Yuki would have treasured his words and painful it would have been trying to forget them.

But right now, they were just swordsmen and they were glad to be alive.

Notes:

Hello there!
Please, don't mind me crying for this chapter. No, no, I feel like Kyojuro's crow...  Anyway, thank you so much for the views, the comments and the votes.
Honestly, reading your thoughts truly motivate me! So, please, let me know what you think about this chapter.

Until next,

X O X O