6 Interlude: The Sun
Last Time on
What Does It Take… To Move Forward?
The inferno that threatened to consume him gradually began to subside, the warmth seeping into his bones and cheek soothed the rumbling storm that his heart had become as it finally began to slow down. Giyu didn't know if he'd live to regret this. He didn't know what these strange feelings were. He could barely handle the storm of emotions he usually ignored, let alone this strange power that pushed him forward. What he did know was that this wasn't over yet.
It had just barely begun.
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Sumiko was a good child. When she was young, she had followed after her thin father on his trips to and from the mountain to deliver coal. She'd watched her father grow thinner and thinner with every winter that passed until she had taken up the responsibility of taking the trips alone. When she'd finally managed to convince her father, who stood ready to leave even on shaky limbs and shivering form, he'd looked at her with such a heartbroken gaze, as if he'd failed somehow. He'd sat down on the porch as her younger twin sister rested her feverish head on his lap, and asked her to do only two things for him.
He came for them. Just when her own personal slice of hell was about to reach its peak, they were saved. A warrior came to save them, when her sister had been forced to stand against the monster and save her and their father. He beat the beast back in a single move, and kneeled before them, stoic and calm, compassion buried deep shining through as he spoke to her sister.
He'd first asked her to be a good older sister.
He stood once more, from the minute flinches and the way her teary eyes snapped wide open, his words slammed into her with the force of a landslide as they did her sister. The small and warm smile he offered under what remained of their home, framed by snow and wind was as breathtaking as he was. A warrior, a samurai spirit for who else could face a beast but something beyond men themselves, raised his blade in defense of her family.
And then he asked her to be happy.
The wind carried his scent to her, its weight overwhelmed her as the monster's had, however that was their only similarity. The monster's scent was old, stale, and reeked of rotting fish. She could only feel his glee at the pain he caused, and his ravenous hunger for her flesh as he spoke of his art. The desecration of corpses and their suffering put on display like some play or great story was his only joy; a demented artist and her suffering was his paint. The spirits scent couldn't have been more different; a cool breeze on a sunny afternoon, a still pond unaffected by the ripples, home and warmth, regret soured the scent, until an undertone of hope brought it all together. Strength and conviction stole her breath, even as pain and loss made themselves apparent.
She'd resolved to do her best.
They fought back and forth, the warrior's blade screaming as it lunged for the beast's throat again and again, burning it as he flowed like water through a dance that ensnared her heart through its beautiful motions. They were shadows on the edge of her vision, flickering in and out of vision too fast to truly perceive, roars ringing out as the samurai's glowing blade cut through great beasts, through air, and through her family's fate seeking to end a tyrant's reign.
So she had made the trips. Sold as much coal as she could. She'd bargained for medicine to cure her father's illness. She asked for stories of her mother, he gave them freely even as pain lanced through his eyes again and again. She learned of the mother who loved her and her sister so completely, so wholly, that she'd refused to allow Nezuko to die before she could live, and asked the wet nurses to cut the trapped infant out of her. Her father had told her as Nesuko slept in his lap. His wife, their mother, had made enough time to hold both of her children and name them before she had passed. She'd chosen her children's lives over hers before they'd even have the chance to love each other.
The beast left its minions to contend with their protector, however all were cut down in an instant, and then the monster turned its attention towards them, pelting them with gargantuan trees to crush them. However he was there to shred them into kindling, falling into piles around them, providing more protection from the elements as they gathered themselves into a corner and she began ripping old clothing apart to treat herself and her father, her changed sister's wounds slowly disappearing as the monsters did, refusing to turn her eyes away from the great battle before them.
She'd grown up knowing that her little sister always came first for her. No matter what, she would always be there for her. Their father had raised them both the same way, never once favoring the other, however she had grown up watching over her little sister under his tender eyes.
Craters were formed, limbs were severed by a glowing blade, insults and roars were thrown viciously by the macabre artist.
She'd decided not to make the trip that night down the mountain, and this monster calling itself a demon had destroyed her home.
The monster changed, somehow becoming more disgusting, her protector remained unaffected as he thanked it for its secrets. A roar and yet more destruction was wrought to her home.
He'd laughed at her attempts to protect her family, ranting on about their despairing corpses and how he'd make them beautiful pieces of art. He'd poured his blood into Nezuko and thrown her through their home. Her father had taken up their family axe, an axe that had been passed down in their little family for generations, once more and danced as he slashed through the army of mutant fish monsters again and again and again. Until the axe had broken, just as their home had been and her father fell to the ground.
They were too fast to be seen, scaled limbs and dark blood flew as the silent warrior withstood the demon's onslaught, blade and fist meeting again and again.
She'd thrown herself in front of the blow that would have killed her father, blood sprayed from the claw wound on her back as she kneeled before her father, tears fell from both their eyes as yet another mindless monster reared back it's scaled hand for the final blow under the mocking laughter of the demon. Until Nezuko tore out of the house, collapsing it around her to shred the fish monster to ribbons. She'd been changed, now sporting claws and fangs as she howled for the blood of the demon. Only to be tossed around and mocked again and again. The demon had grown bored and had turned to her and her father, ranting about how he'd feed them to her little sister. He'd raced forward to drive a fist into her clawed back as she struggled to move, the only reason she still lived was because Nezuko had copied her actions and taken the blow for her.
A tune began to make itself known to them, the warrior had closed his eyes and began to hum, his blade moving in tune with the beautiful melody… no the lullaby.
The fist was inches from her head, slowly pushing through her sister's body to grasp at her with horrible noises resounding each time the wound was opened even further. Until it wasn't, the arm had been severed and her family had been saved. He stood there, broken and compassionate. Furious and calm. Young yet experienced. Everything about him, even his scent, was contradictory, and yet he remained utterly breathtaking in what remained of her home's light.
He gave her sister compassion for her condition. He knew what to say to keep Nezuko focused on the present, to keep her grounded from the hunger that flared in her eyes as she eyed the fallen blood on the ground to help bandage her and their father's wounds even as her own steadily began to disappear. He drew his blade without hesitation to defend them from the invader.
The blade tore everything before it apart, deceptively flowing like water and crushing like a waterfall. The demon retreated over and over, hurling insults and vitriol as it tried to leave.
So she prayed. Even as she did her best to wrap her and her fathers wounds, she prayed. For him to be safe. For his health. For the old heartache that bled from his scent. For her sister. For her father. For her mother. She prayed…
..to the fire god.
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Sorry guys, a smaller chapter today, feeling like shit and need to get some sleep so i can actually contribute to my work tomorrow. I'll feel better in a few days and get the next chap for my unordinary fic sunday. Review, if you would?
