𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒 𐑺 ֗ ִ ˖ kimetsu no yaiba

𝘁𝘄𝗼

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢 ╱ the searing mark of the red spider lily

     The sun was warm today, at least Sayuri had that going for her. Except when a wind chill shot across the blood dried and caked into her shuddering skin. It felt like she was wearing her dead parents... and in a sense, she was. Another person was staring her down angrily, covering her children's eyes as they walked across the gravel street. The small humans asked questions about Sayuri's placement and why she was here.

     And just where was she, one may wonder? Well, after the loud calls for help alerted those closest to the Fukunaga home, about five of the men from the village ventured to check on the family in the dark of the night when the sun was just revealing itself on the mountainous horizon. They would've never seen the demon that attacked the family with their poor human eyesight as it escaped through the roof of the home. It was out there somewhere, likely tricking more children just as it had done hours earlier.

     What they did see was Sayuri. The young, alive, girl without a single scratch on her, yet battered in blood and gore. In her lap was the greyed and mutilated body of Michi Fukunaga, her husband Tetsuya in the same condition a few feet over. He'd died reaching for his wife and daughter, bloody hand stretched toward them. The image painted before the startled men was clear, in their view at least, that Sayuri Fukunaga had killed her parents with no mercy. A little girl who never showed hatred for her parents, who was grateful for every gift they laid in her hands, and always thanked them for every meal. Perhaps it's easiest to simply turn a blind eye to the hideous truth.

     Tying Sayuri to a post by her wrists had been the first idea that came to the village when alerted of what supposedly happened, and she'd be branded as a murderer by evening. She wasn't cleaned or freshly clothed, just left to stand against the post until the time would come. People stared viciously all morning into the now afternoon, and Sayuri simply wanted to vanish. Her chest hurt from constant uneven and labored breaths, and now not a single tear could manage to slip out of the dried tear ducts. Her face was puffy and pink from the sobbing that emitted through every window and crevice. A boy had stopped by to feed her warm bread for lunch, blushing furiously when Sayuri recognized him as the pant ripper.

     "My parents say it wasn't you," He had whispered after shoving too large of a piece of cake in the other's mouth. His mother had made it the evening prior and told her son to bring the girl a piece so she didn't go hungry in her restraints. He looks to the ground, "-I'm sorry I can't do anything."

      "'ou caf he-" Sayuri tried her hardest to speed-eat before trying to talk again, "-You can help me."

     "No... No, I'm too afraid."