Demon Slayer One-Shots (Part 2)

Set Your Heart Ablaze (Rengoku Survives x OC)

HI! I'm back from my headcanon phase, which only lasted about two chapters. So, sorry if you guys disliked the headcanons and wanted more one-shots. However, I am still open to the idea of doing more headcanons, and I wouldn't mind any suggestions of what kind, or doing different headcanons for individual characters.

In case you may have noticed, I am a HUGE shipper of Giyushino (GiyuxShinobu), and I LOVE this pairing. I may be doing a separate story for these two. If you dislike the pairing, feel free to tell me (politely please) and comment below about what kinds of ships y'all would like to see in a one-shot (or headcanon).

ON TO THE ONE-SHOT!!!

"You've done perfectly, my son. But you aren't done yet." his mother says quietly, crouching down before him as if to say that it was normal for it to hurt. The pain would subside.

The bleeding had stopped.

It had stopped and it didn't hurt anymore.

A look of surprise crossed his scar-ridden face as he realized that it didn't hurt. He was completely healed with the exception of several scars, scratches, and a limp in his right leg that remained from falling off the train.

"You'll return once you are done. But for now... it's only right that you return and live the life you deserve." his mother was affectionately wiping a tear from his cheek, as if he was a child, sitting in her lap and he had just scraped his knee.

The wound that had remained previously in his stomach was gone.

His brain was racked with the sound of wailing and the screaming of a familiar boy.

What was his name?

The sun was rising. The trees were shining, and the pools of blood that were there before were gone, presumably cleaned.

I-It was familiar.

The sound of the clashing of swords, a memory was gone from his brain entirely. The suffocating aura of anger filling the space before it was replaced b grief.

He picked himself up, dressed in an unfamiliar uniform and a white haori. There was a broken blade laid down next to him, the scabbard missing.

It was cleaned and restored to its former glory, although the ground was damp, as if someone had visited to water something.

Was he... dead?

No.

It couldn't be.

Because he was alive. he was sitting here, no memory except one of a familiar smile.

A familiar smile that...

He needed to go back to.

...

The path was flat.

Flat enough so that he didn't need to struggle climbing over rocks and jumping down from cliffs. Though there was no indication that he had been stabbed or otherwise, a dull ache attacked his hip as he jerked to the side from the invisible attacker.

It was dusk. The sun was beginning to fall back into slumber before appearing on the the other side of the Earth, and he familiarized himself with the pattern of the hours of the days.

"Fresh meat."

He glared at the shadow behind him, though its threatening gaze did nothing to waver his confidence.

What was this feeling?

The need to slay this creature that had appeared before him so suddenly to attack. The duty to fight for someone.