The Blacksmith's daugther was a witch (Tomioka Giyuu x reader)

Special Chapter: Her Last Year

  Okay, so it's my birthday today and I decided to give you all a gift of a short special chapter! Sorta weird, right? I know we usually recieve presents on our birthday but I actually just want a reason to throw in an update. Plus, your support and love are something that always makes my day better and I thought that it would be a great thing to feel on my big day. After all, I've just turned 18 today. Anyway, enough of rambling, let's get to the chapter.

I would like to confirm that while this is a special, it still fits into the story and is important for the plotline.

Summer slowly turned into autumn as leaves started painting themselves in warm colors of gold, copper and scarlet. And yet, bamboo always remained green, even when other plants decided to put on their best clothes before the death and monochrome of winter reached the mountains. (Y/N) always found it strange, how bamboo kept its color all year round, the same way as the wisterias up on the Witch Mountain. Many things about the world fascinated the young girl but she knew there was no escaping the fate which had been set up for her. She would have ages to discover new secrets but at the same time, her life was nearing its early end.

Just like the leaves of a changing season, she would soon put on her best dress only to lay it down to rest for eternity while she would live on even after death, reborn as something new, yet growing ancient with the passing time. It was the Edo Period in Japan and the country was swarming with samurais enforcing the shogunate's will. And yet, she only rarely saw the legendary brutes. Maybe it was because of how deep in the mountains her village was, how unimportant to the country it was... not that she wished to encounter one. And at the same time she did, hoping to learn as much as she could before meeting her inevitable end.

(L/N) (Y/N) knew she wouldn't die on the day of her 19th birthday but at the same time, she would. Her body would continue its functions for decades to come, maybe even centuries, and yet the chance at normal life she had would be gone. The blacksmith's daughter didn't like to be alive... The idea of continuing her existence even after death didn't appeal to her and yet, she chose that path for herself. To be honest, she didn't understand why. It seemed so incredibly foolish but still so right. How come a girl, that wanted nothing but to die, chose the path of eternal life? She herself didn't know.

"You should stop walking around the forest with your head in the clouds, (Y/N). Terrible things could happen." sounded a light voice behind her.

The girl stopped her stroll and looked at the sound's source, a humorless smile stretching on her lips.

"If only they did." she answered simply.

It was an ongoing game between the two, (Y/N) never caring about her safety while her teacher chastised her for being too lax about her wellbeing. To be honest, sometimes it would seem that the pretty girl tried to get herself hurt on purpose. But be it a curse or a blessing, she always ended up with a few scrapes at most.

"What are you thinking about this time, if I may ask?" her mentor walked over curiously.

She was very different from (Y/N). Her voice was always filled with energy and if she showed her eyes, the girl was sure they would never stop sparkling. But even after 8 years of knowing each other, she still didn't know her master's face. It was tradition, she once told her. A witch was to wear a fox mask in front of everyone, hiding her face and becoming more of an entity than an individual. It stripped her of her personal characteristics, making her a witch and no longer the girl she once used to be. (Y/N) would soon meet the same fate.

"I was looking at the leaves..." she trailed off dreamily and gazed up into the treetops, "Do you not find it strange? During the other seasons, all of them are the same green, but when autumn comes, they all dress up in different colors. Birch, the lady of gold, dances in the wind along with the shorter maple, lord of red. They sing a melody together as their leaves fall to the ground in a mosaic no one but the nature could compose, so full of color and purpose... I wonder what they converse about. Are they afraid of the death that awaits them with winter's arrival? Or are they celebrating the time when they can finally rest?"