Bury the Light

A child born of snow

After some time, the passing of time became dull and monotonous, as if fate was following some twisted pattern. Assuming Sanemi's mind remained mostly intact, it must have been the fifth day of the Final Selection – only two more before he became an official corp member. On the other hand, much could have happened throughout this span, so he stayed vigilant and cautious.

The more time he spent on this cursed mountain, the more confusing and conflicted his mind became. Amongst all this madness, only one piece remained constant; it hardly mattered how many demons he had cut down, as for each of them, there were two more ready and willing to take its place. It seemed like a fight against a rising and endless tide. Perhaps it was the reasoning behind the time restriction. Otherwise, the defeat was inevitable; the only question lingering was, how long would a unit – like him – oppose the odds stacked against it before succumbing to injuries, exhaustion, and sheer number of enemies?

As a stray ray of midday light stirred the teenager out of his dreamless sleep, he felt a cold as-ice shiver running down his spine. He overslept; what was meant to be an hour-long nap was unwittingly extended. Biting hard down his bottom lip, guilt and embarrassment washed over him. It was reckless, to say the least, he thought, spitting on the ground with a mix of saliva and blood to clear his mouth. Nonetheless, as the white-haired boy had no means of interacting with time, he concluded it would be his best option to get going.

Soon enough, Sanemi noticed another densely vegetated area filled with so many dark-barked trees overlapping and seemingly multiplying in his eyes. Considering his experience with demons, he halted, chugging generously from his half-empty beaker. Undoubtedly, the moment he would venture into the twilight zone, these children of the night would take the presented opportunity to surround him and attack. With it on his mind, Sanemi took a few additional moments to relax, mentally preparing for inevitable encounters.

It was but a matter of time before Sanemi's overwhelming hatred towards the night kind overruled his common sense, forcing him to enter the tangled area. As expected, the moment he stepped under the trees' cover, he heard a low yet clear snarl coming from the grove's depth. Unwittingly, the boy smirked mischievously; after all, some hungry and degenerated demon kept an eye on him. He continued his stroll without hesitation, progressing slowly, constantly scanning his surroundings.

Compared to the mysterious and somewhat thrilling wisteria forest, this grove was uninteresting and bland, consisting of either old or marked by the demons' claws trees. A scoff escaped the boy's throat, irritated with the destruction and suffering the children of the night left in their wake. Regardless of this feeling intensifying in him, it was pushed aside once he heard these savage beasts approaching him fast. Two of them if his hearing was still as sharp as it used to be. Even though he had found a somewhat reliable water source, the same could not be said about food. He kept looking for something edible during the daytime despite feeling like a vain endeavour. The growing hunger had already affected him, decreasing the teenager's overall strength and speed, but this was a problem for later.

Within a heartbeat, two shadowed silhouettes rushed Sanemi, eager to finish the fight as soon as possible. Even though he was aware of their incoming attack, he barely managed to step back, dogging the sharp claws. In the next heartbeat, he was forced to use his katana to block these. As sparks manifested, he groaned, frustrated at how easily he was being pushed back.

"He survived this, brother?" a young feminine voice sounded surprised.

"Tsk, a fluke or luck, or both," a tad older male voice responded, annoyed.

"Is that so, brother?"

"Of course it is, Kazue."

As the demons halted their attack for the time being, Sanemi got an opportunity to look at whom he was dealing with. Though, it would have been better if he had not been granted it. Before him, two children of the night stood. The taller of them was a teenage boy with short, dark-brown hair, more-or-less Sanemi's height. His face was slightly disfigured due to the transformation, yet it preserved its remnants of humanity; it was pale, long, and covered with numerous burnt marks. He wore a cramped beige shirt, tattered in some areas and matching pants. Beside him, a young girl sat. Sanemi loudly gulped, realising she could not have been older than seven when she had been turned into this monstrosity. Compared to her potential brother, she bore no visible downsides of the transformation apart from a pair of piercing, intense pair of crimson-red eyes. Kazue wore a pink, flowery embroidered yukata slightly stained with blood and dirt. Her hair was long and dark as the darkest night, allowed to fall in cascades on her tiny back. The white-haired boy did not want to confront them, as they reminded him about his dead siblings. As he took another step backwards, he thought about fleeing. But ... he could not do this. Sanemi had already chosen his path; he would become a full-fledged demon slayer, so backing down was not an option. He would face his nightmares and defeat them or die trying.