Unbound ♰ Kny x Fem!Reader

𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢. Who Am I If Not A Tragedy

Every step taken in the Infinity Fortress felt like a dead weight upon Y/N's chest.

Yet, she reluctantly dragged herself outside to get some fresh air, expecting the worst – another world-shattering realization or another waterfall of tears – and hoping it wouldn't come.

She carefully placed a single foot outside the fortress and away from the tatami-laid floors, peeking around suspiciously from side to side. No chances taken. The girl allowed herself a single minute of decision before finally exiting the walls of enclosed infinity, taking in the absurdly dark exterior of the place she had lived in for a few days or so. The difference from the bright mansion she once lived in was startling – a firm reminder of what was left behind in sacrifice for something else.

The damp, earthy scent of petrichor wafted towards her nose and she quietly made her way across crinkled leaves and broken branches. All around the castle, darkness had fallen and brought with it warm evening zephyrs, stirring up piles of dirt left by the remains of fallen willow trees. To storms, harsh and battering, or a demon's anger, she didn't know.

The world had lapsed into a state of quietude, and lively chatter met her ears no more. The girl could almost hear the distant beat of the grandfather clock near her old hospital cot in the Butterfly Mansion. Tick, tick, tick. Time went too fast for her liking.

She laid supine on the grassy floors, staring at the sky, painted with smears of navy blue – Tanjiro would see the same thing tonight when he looked up.

The thought of him, once again, stung. He was almost universes away now.

"Y/N." A voice broke the silence.

A pair of eyes etched with the kanji "Upper Six" met hers for a moment before her sight drifted to an outstretched hand. A hand that belonged to a female she had seen in a dream.

"Can you come with me?'

Y/N narrowed her eyes, standing up. "Didn't Muzan say you're not supposed to kill me?"

The demon's eyes dulled with melancholy. "I'm not here to kill you. I had a conversation with Akaza a few hours ago, and I want to talk to you."

"You could just kill me the first chance you get. I don't trust you."

"You heard Nakime. And you know it yourself. I'm not going to hurt you, Y/N L/N."

The girl was quiet for a moment. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"I think you may be able to guess," the demon replied.

Y/N sighed, although the uncertainty still lingered. She would have to be careful – not yet did she trust these demons who seemed to all have taken an odd liking to her.  "Alright."

The woman in front of her grinned. Appearance-wise, she didn't look much older than twenty but when she smiled, her eyes twinkled with maturity. It was the Hashira meeting all over again – meeting Kagaya for the first time and understanding that he knew more than anyone else. He had fought the wars and lived for years longer. The demons had too. From a different perspective.

"Thank you. You may call me Daki."

♱

The path ahead aglow with luminescent moonlight, Y/N walked in silence down a steep, meandering path, maintaining a significant amount of distance between her and the demon in front of her. She only quickened her pace when Daki turned a corner.

Just as the girl was about to speak up and ask where in the world they were going, Daki stopped in front of a wooden bench below a cherry blossom tree. She sat down without a word and the girl, although nervous, followed suit. She grimaced, recalling the cherry blossoms in the Butterfly Mansion.

"So," Daki muttered once Y/N had managed to settle herself down. "You really are his sister?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah. Uh, can I ask you an honest question, Daki?"

"Go ahead." The demon raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you and Akaza – maybe even the rest of the demons – care so much?" she muttered. "You guys are killers. I know that firsthand. So why do you even bother?"

In Daki's eyes held nostalgia. Reminiscence. Just a little bit of regret.

"We may be killers, but that doesn't mean we cannot feel."

She caught her gaze with an unwavering stare, overlaid with resolve. "And your brother taught us how to."

Y/N opened her mouth to speak. Daki's wistful expression made her decide against it.

"I wanted to talk to you about exactly this, Y/N. Picture this: you are a demon, taught to never show an ounce of emotion and live in utter solemnity. You don't laugh. You don't smile. Never truly. And then one day, your master brings in a boy, around 15 or 16 in age, and he knows nothing of this monochrome world you have been existing in. He knows of happiness, and excitement, and color, and he brings it all to you."

"Akaza talked with him the day he arrived at the fortress," Daki continued. "He wanted to leave and return to the Butterfly Mansion. He wanted to go back to the people who were like him, and no one expected him to stay in a place full of murderers. But upon hearing Akaza's words of just how dangerous it would be to escape, I guess he chose to stay for the time being. It worked wonders for all of us."

"It was kind of obvious that he would eventually leave us and that his loyalties always lay with the Demon Slayer Corps, no matter how much our Master wanted him on our side. But when he was here, it was like... like someone had taken a paintbrush, dipped it in some paint, and just smeared it all onto a blank canvas, making it art. He told us how good ketchup was, he taught us how to play these traditional Japanese games he used to play with his family, he told us all about his obsession with our world's Cosmic Address, and we smuggled things from the night markets, anonymously gifting them to each other so much that if you looked in one of the random Infinity Castle rooms there would be a high chance of you finding one of the gifts. He taught us how to live like people before he left and never came back."

"And now," Daki sighed, "He's gone."

She hung her head, eyes glistening. "Forever."

"Daki," Y/N began. If she could see herself in a mirror right now, her face wouldn't look too appealing, flickering between emotions of sadness, guilt, realization, and pity.

Her thoughts she had yesterday seemed to be painfully accurate. When you stripped down the layers of hatred for Demon Slayers and cold masks of murderous indifference, there was vulnerability – clear shreds of the very things that made people human.

And Daki was showing it to her right now, allowing herself to sink back into the longing for what had been reduced to memory. At the tip of Y/N's eyes, tears began to form.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry he left."

Upper Six seemed to have regained her senses again and she wiped her eyes promptly, attempting to shake it all off like nothing happened. She offered a small smile. "Don't be sorry. He chose his own fate. I respect that. But I just wish I could thank him for what he had done for all of us."

"I wish I could too," Y/N nodded. "I want to thank a lot of people for what they have done."

But it's just too late, right?

Daki's quiet laughter echoed around their surroundings. "One more thing – you've asked your question, now let me ask mine: are you going to leave this place just like your brother had? I know you miss your Demon Slayer friends. And their headquarters. It won't surprise me if you choose to escape as well. After all, your brother did the same and left unscathed. It's a tale Akaza often tells: how he was here one day, and gone like that the next."

The male demon's words echoed in her mind: "one day, he was gone. He left no tracks, no hints, no farewell message. He had... escaped." She pursed her lips.

"I don't know," Y/N finally replied, coming to a realization. "I miss them, but I want to do what he had done for you all too. I have no clue what to make of all of this. I'll choose. Not now, not ever, right?"

Daki's smile bled sadness. "There's a lot we don't know."