The village was cloaked in darkness as Yamato, still reeling from the loss of his Family, gently laid them to rest. He looked down at the fresh grave, tears mixing with the dirt on his hands. His world had crumbled, and all that remained were the memories of their laughter and warmth.
In the days that followed his mother's burial, Yamato struggled to piece together the remnants of his shattered life. He found himself drawn to his mother's room, the one place that still held a whisper of her presence. There, hanging on a wooden peg, was her blue haori with gold and white stripes.
Yamato's fingers trembled as he reached for the haori. He could almost feel his mother's warmth as he draped it over his shoulders. The familiar scent of her filled his senses, and he felt a rush of bittersweet comfort. In that moment, he made a decision. He would wear this haori as a reminder of the love and strength his mother had given him.
Draped in the blue haori, Yamato left his home, the memories of his family echoing in his heart. The village was still reeling from the recent tragedy, but life moved on. As he walked through another town, the haori billowed around him like a protective cloak, shielding him from the sympathetic gazes and hushed whispers of the villagers.
His path took him past the bustling market, where colorful kites fluttered in the breeze. Amidst the vibrant kites, he spotted a small shop that seemed out of place, its window adorned with a gleaming katana.
Yamato's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon. An inexplicable urge washed over him, drawing him closer to the shop. He couldn't explain why he felt such a strong connection to this katana, but it was as if destiny had guided him here.
He reached out, his fingers hovering just inches away from the glass that separated him from the katana. The weapon seemed to call to him, a silent promise of power and justice.
But as he contemplated the unthinkable—stealing the katana—he was interrupted by the sharp voice of the shopkeeper.
"You!? What are you doing?!" The shopkeeper's words were filled with both surprise and concern.
Caught in the act, Yamato froze. His eyes met those of the shopkeeper, and in that moment, he felt as though the man could see right through him. His face, still stained with tears and blood from that fateful night, betrayed his recent ordeal.
"Wha... What happened?" The shopkeeper's voice trembled with curiosity and alarm.
A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by Yamato's hesitant words. "A demon..."
The shopkeeper's eyes widened, and his shock deepened as Yamato recounted the gruesome events that had unfolded in their once-peaceful village. His mother's lifeless body, the demon's horrific attack, and his relentless, desperate struggle until the first rays of dawn had driven the creature away.
The shopkeeper listened intently, his heart heavy with sympathy for the young boy who had endured such a tragedy. It was a tale that shattered the village's illusion of safety.
The shopkeeper's shock gave way to a solemn understanding. In this quiet village, demons were considered the stuff of nightmares, rarely seen and even more rarely believed in. The shopkeeper hadn't expected that such a sinister creature would breach the protective barrier of the wisteria tree, a guardian that had shielded them for generations.
As Yamato continued, his voice filled with raw emotion, the shopkeeper posed a question that would change the course of his life. "Why do you want this sword?"
Yamato's response was immediate, his eyes blazing with determination. "I want to find that thing."
"So, you want revenge?" The shopkeeper's voice held a weight of understanding.
Yamato's eyes flared with anger. "Why are you asking me that? What would people do when creatures like them exist? He killed my mom and my little brother."
The shopkeeper, having seen the depths of Yamato's resolve, made a proposal that caught the young boy off guard. "Alright, I'll give it to you, but on one condition."
Yamato's curiosity piqued. "What condition?"
"Become my student," the shopkeeper said firmly, arms crossed.
Yamato hesitated for a moment, torn between his desire for vengeance and the uncertainty of this new path. But ultimately, he nodded in reluctant agreement.
The shopkeeper revealed the katana's name—a Nichirin sword, a weapon specially designed to slay demons by cutting their necks. Yamato's determination blazed even brighter. "I need it. I want to kill them, to ensure no one ever feels what I did."
The shopkeeper introduced himself as Urokodaki Jumonji, and in that moment, as he led Yamato into his humble hut, a new chapter in the young boy's life was about to begin.
To Be Continued...
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(OC x Kanae Kocho) My Precious Butterflies "Kimetsu no Yaiba"
FanfictionThis Story is for entertainment purposes only no Money will be made or any will be sought Demon Slayer is owned by Koyoharu Gotouge In the world of Demon Slayer, an 13 -year-old boy named Yamato, with striking white skin and hair, lived happily with...