Blood in Flame and Water

Blue Drowning in Honey

"Ya-chan? " 

The oni grumbled, the nickname grating on his nerves the more and more the child under his care calls him as such. It was undignifying, and it definitely blew at his ego that he couldn't stop a child from calling him such a thing. It irked him, greatly. 

Besides, he had only just crawled out of the makeshift tunnel he dug leading straight into the village and hadn't even been given a moment to shake off excess dirt. 

"What? " Yasha grumbled back, obviously not in the mood for some kind of childish question spree led on by the leading cause of most of the demon's headache at the moment. The dreaded 'Why? ' was something Akuma didn't think he'd ever be afraid to hear. 

Instead, he was mildly surprised to see Mitski pointing at the assortment of weapons and souvenirs Yasha had on the cave wall adjacent to the cave entrance. Yasha scanned them and waited for Mitski's question, which soon materialized in the form of, "Who did these belong to? Samurai? They don't look like normal swords. " 

The oni hummed in thought as he scanned over the weapons in his collection before tilting his head; the sound of clinking chimes following. His mouth opened for a moment, "No, not samurai. " 

Mitski copied Yasha's movement and tilted their head as well, "Then who did they belong to? " 

For a moment, Yasha only saw and felt flashes and phantom pain. There was blood everywhere, and sobbing echoed in his ears. It was muffled but so loud it hurt. Hands were on him, pushing and pulling, then suddenly his own were wet and sticky. They pressed around something soft that was struggling under his hold, then it was crushed with a garbled scream joining in on the sobbing cries. 

Akuma blinked back into the moment hazardously. He had gone rigid, and a small hand wrapped up in his haori was the thing that pulled him out of his daydream. Looking down, the child with silver hair and dainty hands was looking at him worriedly. Something fluttered in the demon's chest as he realized that look was directed at him, for him, not one of him. 

Pushing that feeling down, the oni wavered before answering with a scratchy voice, "They belonged to demon slayers. Trained murderers who kill demons with weapons made of a special material. I have come across only a few, as they passed along this village when it was still plentiful and sought to cause a ruckus or hunted me specifically. Here, " 

Yasha got up, deciding to pick up Mitski and carry them across the expanse of space in between their present spot by the fire and the cave wall. The little child squeaked before wrapping their arms around the demon's neck and held on tight. The oni paid no mind to it, but the fluttering in his chest came back and stayed there until he forcefully pushed it back down. 

Coming up to the wall, Yasha reached out and grabbed a chipped nichirin blade off of its place on his wall and presented it to Mitski. The blade was sunset orange in color and had no handguard. Yasha allowed Mitski to touch it, as it had been dull for a long time now, "This one belonged to a rather arrogant young man. He wasn't much older past his teens, but he was rather prideful on his new style of Breathing he conjured. " 

"Breathing style? " Mitski questioned. 

Akuma nodded, "Breathing helps demon slayers become on par with most demons, increasing their strengths, flexibility, and senses. Most slayers fall under the first taught five breathing styles, but others have branched off into their own. This young man for example, " 

Yasha put back the chipped sunset blade, "Had been bragging about creating a new Breathing style called Ash Breathing which diverged from the first taught Flame Breathing that has only ever lived inside of a particular family. He became rather hot headed and prone to mistakes when I told him Ash was only the dying reminder of Flame. I killed him easily enough. "