"Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor. "
Biwako Kazeyama was always like the calm before the storm, steady and quiet.
When her family got murdered, she got silent, buried her grief, her pain, her hatred...
disclaimer: I do not own the anime or manga called Demon Slayer, but I can dream, right? *snoozes*
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THIRD POV THE KAZEYAMA FAMILY wasn't one full of riches or luxury, instead they had happiness and love. Every day the children would wake up grateful and content with their given lives. The parents cherished their little life in the seclusion of the mountain. The three kids would run through the field, whether it be in the flowers during spring or in the snow of winter.
And that didn't change, despite them being older now.
Biwako, the middle child of three and the only daughter, listened to the daily routine of her brother's yelling and causing a commotion. Although the siblings loved each other, they could still get on each other's nerves. For her, they bothered her by pulling at her hair, taking her food, and by forcing her in the middle of their arguments. She would annoy them by siding with her younger brother and blaming the oldest for something he obviously didn't do, or by siding with her older brother and forcing the youngest to do their chores.
As much as she despised being the middle child, she also loved the advantages that came with it.
All and all, they loved each other in the end.
So as she sat inside her bedroom, sewing the sleeve of her red floral haori, she sighs as she hears the incoming stomps of her brothers rushing to her door. Of course they would bring her into their petty arguments. When the door slides open with a slam, the brunette ignores them as she stitches the cloth carefully.
"Biwa-nee! Tell Geiren-baka-sama, that you're making my haori first! I asked you yesterday, remember! When Otou-san brought us the fabrics," her younger brother - Jushiro - states with an irritated pout as he points at the oldest sibling.
"Who are you calling, idiot, you kusuyarou?! But seriously, Biwa, can you make mine first? I told you I needed it for something important. Please," the sixteen year old pleads, after slapping his brother's finger out of his face.
Turning her head away from her sewing, she sees that they're both holding their respective fabrics. Geiren holds one that is a royal shade of purple. Despite it being simple and with no design, the color is so rich that it catches the eye's attention. Jushiro holds one that is equally rich, a shade of sapphire almost like the ocean. Though, the design is lined and one of white clouds.
She shakes her head, silently amused.
"First of all, Nii-san, that's some foul language you're using especially in front of us, you wouldn't want Kaa-san to find out, now would you? Second of all, I'm working on mine right now, so you two have to wait until I'm done with it. So in other words, this disagreement can be postponed until a further time, yes," she tells them with a closed eye smile.
