The Month of Love: Demon Slayer Oneshots

My Love, My Life (SanemixKanae)

Can you believe it? 

Everyone in the world has a soulmate. 

Tied by fate, woven together into an invisible red string at the pinky. 

But it wasn't meant to be, was it?

No, instead I had to watch you die. Over and over and over again until I can't handle it anymore. 

That's my curse. 

Watching my love die over and over again. Reborn into the same world until it ends. 

"Is something wrong?" 

I had found you again. You were reborn into the life of a doctor. A woman who protected those she loved. 

"No. Of course not." 

There were a few glitches in the curse. 

I'd get a scar every single time you died. 

You were reborn into the same hospital every single time. 

And you'd always die the same way. 

In my arms, bloody, and reassuring. 

Why were you reassuring me?

I'd always be too late. Too soon. 

I'd avoid you. Truly, I tried. But instead, you and your beautiful smile always found a way back into my life. 

"Sanemi-kun, talk to me, you know I'm always there for you." she smiled, skipping to stand in front of me to prevent me from ignoring her question. 

Give up. 

She's going to disappear. She's at that age, and she's going to die in your hands. 

"Of course you are, Kanae. But please, take more care of yourself." 

The eyebags under her eyes had grown bigger, darker. More noticeable. More late nights at the hospital. 

"It's nothing!" she waved me off like she always did, bright and unassuming. 

BOOM. 

A-A bomb?

No.

No. 

NO. 

"Kanae!" 

There she stood, amongst in the flames, looking down at herself again. Pieces of debris were scattered in the breeze. 

"Sanemi! Don't move!" she warned. 

W-What?

"You're injured!" she cried out, running towards me. 

N-No. Don't do that. It'll end in your death. 

But my throat was dry. Parched. 

"Sanemi! Stay awake!" she pleaded. 

Your pleading is useless.

"Get the money out of here!" an unknown voice yelled. 

"Kill any survivors!" 

"Stay here, I'm going to get help." Kanae urged, pressing the cloth to my abdomen. 

BANG.

A searing pain ripped through my arm as a scar, about six inches, was scarred across my forearm. 

N-NO! 

It happened again. 

S-Stop.