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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 1

"𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 1"

Japanese is normal

English is underlined.

TW: Swearing, Slight Manga Spoilers (just information about Kokushibo)

REWRITTEN

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If someone were to ask me, "What is the meaning of life?" my real answer would be, "To die," but of course I would say "I don't know."

My life had no meaning, no significance to anybody. I never did anything special, or had a special trait of some sort.

My parents were mean, I can't remember my childhood, and I was fairly rich I suppose. I like clothes and Demon Slayer.

I don't mean anything. And I was born to die, as simple as that. And that is literally what I did.

I thought.
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↳SECOND POV

You open your eyes, finding a lush green forest surrounding you. 'What the.. fuck?' Panic blossomed in your chest, snapping your eyes fully open.

Slapping yourself, pulling your hair trying to see if you were real. 'Is this heaven? Where are all the women..' you pondered.

Standing up with shaky legs, your teeth chattered. Partly from anxiety and from the slight cold nipping at your skin. It wasn't cold enough to be winter, but definitely not warm as the sky filled with clouds, covering any sun rays.

Cursing yourself for not wearing a (thick) jacket of some kind, you started walking in any sort of direction, you have no fucking clue.

'Come on Y/N! You're a professional, you read Hunger Games for fucking sake!' Looking for mud or animals of some kind, hoping to find a river or other to drink water.

The ground was dry, and only a squirrel or so could be seen. Losing hope, you called out. "HELPPP!" Hearing no response, you cursed any stupid cunts that were to lazy on their fucking asses to yell back.

You just decided to run, water was a pretty common thing right? And if there wasn't water anywhere there wouldn't be trees, right?

Your plan fell flat when you had to pause, leaning in your knees after a minute of running. (fatty🫵/j)

You forced your legs to move, after an eternity of moving more than you probably have in the last year you spotted a house in the distance. Or, a shack could describe it more accurately.

Making your way towards the shack you almost collapsed at the realization of your sheer luck upon sight of a small river beside the house.

Sliding open the dusty shoji door to the shack, it had one singular room. It had a kamado stove and countertop, a futon, and a side table. It had a layer of dust and cobwebs in the corners but it would have to do for now.