𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝐤𝐧𝐲

嘘 | lie

~仕始める~ 

You had become relatively famous, a mini celebrity within the literature community. Even though it had been released years ago, you still always see the title or events mentioned in newspapers or on posters. It makes your pride swell, the fact that a story you told, that you wrote makes your stomach feel fluffy.

You kicked your legs in excitement under the low table after seeing your pseudonym in the paper for the second time this week. Yushiro watched your outburst with a neutral face, used to your sudden bursts whenever you read the paper. The television wasn't on, which became a common habit since Yushiro watched so much of it at first.

"What are they saying about you now?" Yushiro asked, looking at you.

"They said I redefined the fictional universe inside realistic fiction novels!" you cheered, lifting your fist above your head in a cheer.

He squinted at you, "Is the novel series even labeled as realistic fiction?"

You shook your head, "At first it was plain fiction, but when the owner of the publisher company changed it was labeled realistic since it took place in real settings."

"I guess our story will only ever be fiction to them won't they?"

You hesitated to answer him, "Yes."

Inevitable frustration and sadness filled his body. All of the slayers and the innocents of victims who died because of the carnage of demons. Most labeled murders as'missing'— though the both of you were prepared to be labeled as lunatics for speaking of it so seriously. You wanted to do justice to the thousands of soldiers and citizens who'd been killed during the demon rampage, tell their story.

Even under the label of fantasy or fiction.

Yushiro's face soured, his jaw clenched.

You remained silent at his sour expression, you tried your best to stay on the brighter sides of things. Like the fact they even let you publish the book in the first place, even though women authors were considered taboo. The full series was released now, and people apparently wanted more-- interviews with the author, or just a sequel. You'd read about their cries and begging inside the paper and couldn't help but laugh when a rumor started that you were dead.

You'd tell these things to him, read them aloud. Distract him, make him laugh. Even if it was just a little, if you could get these troubled feelings off his chest you would be satisfied. This outcome was inevitable, you both knew that and it frustrated you.

That is the struggle with being unique, and having a story to tell with it. (Despite over thousands of people from the early 1900's telling the same story.)

As you read through the articles more out loud, you could feel sweat form on the back of your neck.

"Kamado Tanjiro is a recurring character, we've discovered that many of the characters inside the novel share extremely similar qualities to deceased men and women," you paused, as you read skimming your eyes over the barrage of text before you, "All deaths were labelled as mysterious murders, all names inside these unknown deaths along with appearances have correlation to the people present in the story."

Yushiro commented before you could continue, "All remaining survivors from the Corps are dead, except what remains of the Ubuyashiki family. I don't think you mentioned any surnames connecting them from when I read it," his voice wavered, "It's interesting how they got a hold of those records to begin with, some dedication to a fictional novel."

Nodding, your eyes dipped down at the text once more. The article was written by a young looking woman around your physical age, maybe a little older. She was one of your "superfans" that had been barraging the publishers for your identity.

"I can get it if you like a book, but this is a little extreme," you commented, Yushiro nodded his head.

You sipped the warm tea from the mug in your hand and then sighed, yawning at the very dull morning.

"I wanted to start writing again, but I already have enough theorists on me. Maybe you should post your paintings, then they'll study you in things like art history classes," you suggested, a smile on your face as you leaned forward. "Then I can write a story behind it or something, partners in crime!"

You can sketch and draw perfectly fine on your own, both he and you knew that.

He sighed, "I've actually been considering it," your smile dropped to a more serious look, "What's the point of carrying her memory if people won't be able to see her face?"

"Where will you post it? Instagram?"

"What's that?"

"Don't worry about it."

You lit up, "You should bring them to a display! Like the small fairs they have for children!"

"Those are for children. I don't look like a child, I wouldn't blend in. Not to mention, no child would be able to paint as much as I do."

You snickered, "I said 'like', there's plenty of fine art fairs for adults. I just happened to think of children's festivals, like the kind you see on Children's Day or culture festival fairs. I recently paid a visit to a middle school during a culture festival and it's been on my mind."

Yushiro sighed, "Oh, so that's where you went."

You never invited Yushiro out on your outings because he'd always try to stop you and it'd just turn into a small dispute. So you didn't give much warning when you'd leave.

The newspaper was full of what seemed like exaggerated stories of normal mundane things, but you lived your life surrounded by mundane things. You should be the last person to complain.

Your village had turned into a city. The bustling cities and the headlights of cars rushing past your windows was no unfamiliar sight. The little town you had moved into was nothing more than old ladies who would talk about their daughters and sons in the military, as the population grew so did that little town. Yushiro adapted, he almost never went outside. He found the crowds and the media chasing you around infinitely annoying.

While you did miss gossiping with older women about local housewives, the city lights at night never failed to inspire you. Your eyes saw things in broad strokes of pastels and acrylic streaks on the backdrop of the world. The glowing lights filled with the watercolor splash and the bleeding of color.

Yushiro adored the light in your eyes whenever you'd see the city basked in snow or red leaves, despite the fact he might never experience that sort of light himself. He'd stick to entertaining himself with stargazing into your pupils.

He didn't want to limit the things you could do, because he knew how much you valued the life of mortal beings. As if he didn't see your mournful smile each time your vegetable plants die every time winter came around, even fake plants couldn't last as long as you did.

Your smile never faded, neither did your bubbliness. He was so happy, so happy after the eternity he's spent with you-- despite all this time and the seasons change. You remained the same.

The same dumb and loveable (Y/N).

He watched you skim your eyes over the politics section, entertaining yourself with the likes of humans.

"They're opening an art fair next month, you should apply," your suggestion made his chest feel warm, "I'll go with emotional support!"

Yushiro smiled, "Sure, sign me up."

He was so excited to spend a thousand eternities with you. 

~終了~