𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

PART THIRTEEN; THE EFFECT

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 ー muzan kibutsuji

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 ー kokushibo

"KOKUSHIBO... I heard you draw your sword... and I heard something fall to the ground," (Y/N) hummed once they were settled inside one of the rooms of the inn, she having watched as he once more came through the window so he wouldn't have to interact with other humans. "Did you kill those men?"

    "Would you feel sympathy for them if I say that I did?" The demon murmured.

    "No."

    "Then, I did," he said as he set his basket of coal down, then turning so he could kneel down on one of the zabutons present.

    "Thank you..." (Y/N) let out a slow breath as she sat down across from him, watching as the low flame of the candle on the table between them flickered  and drew long shadows across the room. "I'm not sure how many times you've helped me these past few months. Each time, however, my gratitude for what you've done is endless."

    Kokushibo didn't say anything at first, however her words making a type of warmth spread throughout his chest. He realized that this was most likely the first time that he was ever thanked for something after turning into a demon. Then again, he never did anything where there would be reason for him to receive gratitude—that is, obviously, until (Y/N) entered his life.

He let his gaze lower to the table.

Is this... guilt?

Lamenting over his life choices, Kokushibo questioned if what path he had chosen was correct.

There (Y/N) was, sitting before him, smiling at him and thanking him for saving her. She was a human, and he was a demon—nothing about their relationship was normal, nor would it ever be looked upon favorably if it was known by his master or others. Yet, at the same time, to Kokushibo, nothing else mattered in those small moment when he was by her side, the world bleeding away where it was as if he had no problems.

(Y/N) was an anomaly.

If he had never encountered her, he would not be questioning himself the way he was doing now.

It was strange—the effect she had on him.

Lifting his eyes up to look at (Y/N), to see the way she gazed so peacefully out the window, the moon shining down on her lustrous (S/C) skin, Kokushibo wished to protect her smile. The reason he wished to become a samurai before his transformation as a demon at all was to protect the smiles of the innocents.

He needed to grow stronger.

To be faster.

To be ruthless.

To be better.

In his pursuit of such advantages, he could see the heavy cost reflected back on him.

(Y/N) might have never looked upon him with fear, but she was the only one out of thousands of humans he'd encountered that hadn't. He had become a grotesque demon that fed on human flesh and did anything but destroy, highlighting how his ambitions and resentment had twisted him.

Kokushibo closed his eyes.

Resentment... huh?

One of the reasons why he became so attached to (Y/N) was because of their shared resentment: the resentment of one who they were compared to because they were better in every aspect.

He wanted to scoff.

The place where a broken, handmade flute hidden within the folds of his kimono burned.

Yes...

He opened his eyes.

Even if were to go back... I would make the same choice, because...

He flicked his gaze towards (Y/N).

She met his eyes.

She smiled once more.

...every time, I would be able to meet her.

    "It's getting pretty late, so I'm going to retire for the night," (Y/N) let out a soft yawn that she hid behind her hand before standing. "Kokushibo, considering demons have no need for sleep, I apologize for not being able to keep you company. Regardless, I hope you'll keep making these nightly visits..." Trailing off, taking another breath as if to continue that thought, she merely let out a small exhale before turning away to continue, "And... thank you again for helping me at the risk of your life. It truly does... mean the world to me, Kokushibo."

    The demon stayed silent, instead resorting to watching as she slid under the covers of her futon set upon the tatami-matted portion of the floor.

    He stood.

    His steps were slow and heavy, and (Y/N) could feel her heart beat thrumming faster in her chest each time they grew closer to her. And as his shadow cast along the floor where she could see, she blinked when it disappeared just as quickly. About to sit up to see if he had exited via the window, her body only stiffened when feeling her back pressed against his chest and his arms twining around her body to hold her close. He exuded no warmth, nor could she hear his breaths or feel the rhythm of his heart. Kokushibo had mentioned before that blood still ran through his veins along with a heart and brain and other organs, but they were useless to him as an immortal and undying monster of the night.

    Even when knowing this, (Y/N) let her muscles unwind and her breathing even, feeling safe in said monster's hold.

    Eventually, she fell asleep.

    Kokushibo didn't move, even upon realizing she was sleeping.

    His eyes were lidded, his expression as cold and unchanging as stone, but all the same, he tightened his grip on (Y/N)'s body. Laying there on the ground, his hair splayed out around him like a darkened halo, he wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment forever.

    To hold (Y/N).

    To feel her warmth.

    To listen to her breathing and the steady beating of her heart.

    It was a symphony to him.

    One that he closed his eyes to and drifted into a slumber that he hadn't been able to have in over four hundred years.

つづく | to be continued