"Flower breathing, fourth form. Dance of falling petals."
You spun through the delicate form. Once again you memorized each and every movement like you hadn't already decapitated a hundred demons with the complex twirl.
"Practicing again?" Said a calm voice behind you.
You finished the form, landing the blade gently against the trunk of a tree so you would not harm it. Quickly, you turned and bowed to the dark haired man.
"It's alright to feel nervous, you know." Kagaya Ubuyashiki told you with a soft smile. "Plenty of the others felt the same way when it was their time."
"I know but..." You almost felt too embarrassed to say it.
"What is it my child?"
He eased your anxieties somewhat. Despite not actually being his child, you felt the warmth of his words.
"I just don't think I'm ready." You told him honestly.
Ubuyashiki held his hand out to you. Knowing what he wanted you placed your hand over his and guided it to your cheek. His fingers memorized the lines of your face, lingering especially on the raised claw marks that disfigured the left side. His thumb trailed down from where the lines started, from your eyebrow, along the damaged eye, to your jaw.
"I miss seeing your face, y/n."
"It hasn't changed much since you last saw it."
His hands finished tracing your features and left to rest on your shoulders. "You have grown so much, it seems you do not realize it. Nearly all of the others were younger than you when they became Hashira. Take young young Muichiro for example, he is only fourteen."
"My age doesn't mean I'm good enough."
"I would have made you the Flower Hashira years ago if not for your own self doubt."
You knew it was useless to argue with him. But still, you felt unworthy of the position. Something still ate at you though, silly though it sounded to you.
"What is it my child?" It was impossible for you to hide anything from him.
"I'm just afraid..." you sighed. "They won't like me."
A clear note of laughter resounded through the forest. You looked up at him, startled. He wasn't making fun of you, he would never have done that.
"Oh my dear y/n, perhaps you should stop worrying about things that may not be true. Besides, your own brother will be there." His smile was wide and made the corners of his clouded eyes crinkle. "Now come, sheath your sword and help me back to the house."
"Yes sir." You did as he asked, sheathing your lilac colored blade and taking his hand.
____
While in your rooms you prepared yourself to join the others. Over top of your uniform you pulled on your usual Smokey gray haori, the pattern faded from light gray tones to almost black at the bottom. It was noticeably too large for you, it hadn't been made for you in the first place. The fabric was marked with numerous places where it had been mended over and over again, a testament to the many years you had owned it. You fastened your sheathed nichirin sword in your belt and looked in the polished silver mirror on your desk.
The reflection that stared back at you made a bubble of revulsion grow in your stomach. The thick claw marks clearly visible on your face along with your one clouded eye. Quickly you tied a strip of deep purple fabric around your head in order to obscure it. Another, even stranger scar poked out of the neckline of your uniform. Harsh lines formed the tip of a noticeable design. The rest was thankfully obscured by the collar of your uniform.
YOU ARE READING
Tale of the Flower Hashira
FanfictionY/N Shinaguzawa, the first Flower Hashira of the Demon Slayer corps, has lead an all but peaceful life up until now. Being a marechi like her brother Sanemi, demons were always chasing her since childhood. What choice did she have then to become a d...
