The Descendant (A Retelling and love story of Demon Slayer)

Seven

The soft crackling of fire is what pulled Akari from the all-encompassing sleep she had been consumed in. Slowly her consciousness began to return to her, but her mind, it was taking a lot longer to catch up. Almost like she was stuck in a thick fog. With all her strength she tried to open her eyes, but all she could manage was to crack her lids open a small bit. Just enough to take in the bleary glow of what seemed to be the ceiling of a cabin. Or was it a wall? She couldn't tell. Her eyes wouldn't work correctly and she felt a bit feverish if she was being honest. Trying to move any part of her body left her pulsing in silent pain from just attempting, she couldn't even scream her displeasure; she was just that tired.

"Ah, so you're awake? Good, you almost died, you know..." Her body went on high alert, or at least it tried to. Without being able to move, there wasn't much she could do except attempt to turn her head in the direction she thought the voice was coming from. It was painful, but she managed to let her head fall to the side. A soft whimper escaped from the pulse of what was probably the largest headache she had ever had the displeasure of experiencing. When she gazed upon the owner of the voice, she was shocked briefly to find a red-faced long-nosed demon staring back at her from across the room. It wasn't until she took a longer look and calmed her rapid heart that she noticed it wasn't an actual demon, just a man wearing a demon mask. For a second she thought the gods were playing a cruel joke on her before she realized that her entire life was just one big joke to the gods she prayed to. To say it bothered her would be an understatement.

Akari attempted to speak, her mouth opening a small bit, but nothing came out. Her brows furrowed slightly as she tried again. Only able to produce a small crackling sound that was anything but a full word. He seemed to know the problem and had moved to her side with a small ceramic cup. Assisting her head in tilting to sip on what she then realized to be warm tea. At first, she didn't know how thirsty she really was, but the first sip had her practically chugging the whole cup. Yet another feeling of Deja Vu overcame her, and she wondered briefly if this would become a recurring thing. She hopped not.

"I'm not surprised to see you so thirsty, you've been asleep for close to four days. I've treated the worst of your injuries, but most of them will take some time to heal."

"A-Arigatou..." It hardly came out, even with the tea easing the soreness of her throat, talking was difficult. "-o're y-you..." She cringed at her inability to speak. Feeling dizzy just from the effort. He took a moment, as though thinking of something, but ultimately answered her question.

"My name is Urokodaki Sakonji, and you are in my home." She hummed a reply. Not wanting to speak any more than she had to. His name sounded awfully familiar to her but she was unable to place why. Surely she would have remembered an older man with white hair and a bright red demon mask like that. Her eyes became heavy again. She could feel the pull of sleep as it lulled her to an almost meditative state. The only sounds remaining were the crackling of the fire and the sound of wood being carved. It was pleasant...

She didn't know if she had dozed off or not. She just remembered her eyes closing and reopening when she noticed Urokodaki had moved to replace the wet cloth on her forehead. Noticing that she was at least slightly awake. He took the chance to ask something that he had been wondering about since he brought her to his home.

"Your katana, it's a nichirin blade right?" His question pulled her back to reality and she hummed a yes. Curious as to how he would know what kind of katana it was. "Yet you do not seem to be part of the Corps." Her eyes widened a bit. 'He knows of the corps?' She stared owlishly at him as he checked over her thigh wound. He was surprised to see it was healing faster than he had been expecting. She stayed silent, but he didn't need her to answer anything to know he was right. He had a good nose, and he could smell her trepidation wafting off her. He had also sent off a letter to the head of the Corps and it was only a matter of time before he heard back from Oyakata-sama. Lost in thought, he hadn't realized at first that her scent had changed. From trepidation to realization. He looked at her only to see her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open slightly.