Into the Darkness (A Demon Slayer Fanfiction)

Chapter 12.5: A Memory

Disclaimer:

I do not own nor claim all the rights to 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer; all rights are reserved to its respective creator, Koyoharu Gotōge. This is purely a work of fiction; names, characters, businesses, events, localities, and occurrences are all extrapolated from the author's writings and imagination or utilized in a fictitious manner. As such, any direct or indirect references to actual entities, dead or alive, or events do not, in any shape or form, resemble the opinions of the author.

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"..." = Dialogue

'...' = Internal monologues

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A memory:

It was a relatively dark, muggy day.

The dull, lifeless clouds had occluded the skies with their ubiquitous presence. This inclement weather promulgated a sense of subjugation that has scathed the very spirit of each wandering soul. The scorching heat of the summer months coalesced with the murky, oppressive humidity of a rainy day to deliver a climate of the most egregious kind. It was as if the gray overcast symbolized how the heavens looked down upon the material world with utter disdain.

And who could blame them?

For, misfortune has struck this very Earth. The ethereal beauty that once enticed the individual and galvanized the warrior was now dead. Tragedy has struck the very core of the Demon Slayer Corps.

..

..

Giyuu had arrived at the Butterfly Mansion.

He took a second to look up at the edifice and examine the configurations.

The once mesmerizing and grandeur, yet humble and welcoming structure had now evoked only a bleak ambiance.

The atmosphere of humility and soothing embrace had all but dissipated.

The torpid Butterfly Estate stood there, harking back to the days of comfort, to the days of old, but unable to bring salvation to itself or its residents.

He slowly proceeded towards the entrance, unmoved by the puddles of rainwater and mud he had to tread through.

Soon enough, he was already situated right in front of the door.

He rang the doorbell.

Giyuu wondered whether it was appropriate for him to be here in the first place. After all, it has only been a week since the obsequies and burial.

He knows that she is at her lowest point.

But he asked himself: Should I leave her be? Or should I intervene?

All he knows is from what he can extrapolate from his past experience. When his sister died at the hands of a demon, he didn't have anyone; he was either abandoned or ostracized.

It was a mentally torturous tribulation that could've had adverse consequences for his prospects.

And she's going through that right now.

He hasn't spoken to her for nearly a month now.

He's only been watching her from afar. Watching her lament, grieve, weep, and shed tears. Watching her prostrate in front of the Kocho family grave—unperturbed by the pouring deluge—as she expresses her sorrow.