The silent demon hunter: Kiyotaka Ayanokoji

SS.kanao: what did he mean?

I stood there. The sun slowly beginning to blind me. I watched his footsteps as he left me there. To my own thoughts. It was unusual to say the least, I'd never experienced such a direct challenge to my mentality or at least.. not one that had put me in a state of shock.

My brain ran over the same dialogue again and again. It inevitably forced me to reflect. In the back of my head I've always known that they didn't want me to live like this but they hadn't said anything about it in a long time so it's ok.. I think?

I've never really wanted anything, well at least not since I was extremely young. It was repeatedly beaten out of me so like any animal I adapted. In the end I just want to help those who care about me. It was what I was already doing.

So in a strange way I was doing what I wanted. But is that what I want or a set of programming that forced me into that mind set. Because that's how I survived.

I just didn't know. The same question began to loop itself into my thoughts. What do I want? Not what's better for myself but what I truly want. It felt like I had hit a wall. I went blank. I had came to the conclusion that nothing like that really mattered so I had never reflected on it any further. Now I was forced to think about it. Regardless if I wanted to or not.

I believed for awhile that I was free. Out of my cage. But I wasn't. My mind has always been looked up. It was a startling realisation. I wasn't really a person. I was shell. What was my favourite food? What was my favourite colour? What was my favourite anything?

I knew nothing about myself. Nothing. Any views I had formulated, I'd realised were just the ones that best suited me.

Did I want to help people? Risk myself in order to help them. Again my only answer was I don't know. I reached out to the sun. The light drew me away but just for today I wanted to look at it. I wanted to see it's strength. A butter fly landed on my finger.

I looked at its brilliant colouring. It was sweat. Almost poetic. Maybe ironic. It was quite the oddity that this existential crisis had been caused by someone I only had met twice. Ayanokoji kiyotaka. Why did he help me? Did he want to? In the end my final question was..

What did he mean?

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A/N: this was quite the short chapter but I just wanted to summarise kanaos thoughts.

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