Dark secrets ~ Rengoku x reader

𝑵𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍

In the wake of chaos, where the tumultuous echoes of the battlefield still lingered in the hearts of those who survived, time became a balm—a year, an expanse that allowed both wounds and memories to heal. The shifting sands of the calendar marked a transformation, a turning point where life sought to reclaim its semblance of normalcy.

Tanjiro, as resilient as ever, returned to his family house. The outward appearance was that of continuity, as if the trials and tribulations of the past had not left indelible marks on both body and heart. Yet, beneath the veneer of familiarity, the scars were silent witnesses to the battles fought and the losses endured.

The ties that bound the survivors persisted, an unspoken agreement to keep in touch, to bridge the gaps that war had carved into the fabric of their lives. The messages exchanged, the occasional gatherings, all whispered of an unspoken understanding—an attempt to traverse back towards a semblance of normalcy, though the path was fraught with the haunting echoes of the past.

No more demons prowled in the shadows, and the world outside bore the semblance of peace. But for those who had faced the horrors, there lingered an uncertainty about how to navigate the normalcy they had once taken for granted. The residue of battle clung to them, a specter that refused to fade, a stain that had permeated deeper than the skin.

In the Rengoku household, life carved a niche of happiness. Kyojuro, a silent pillar of strength, never delved into the depths of the battlefield horrors. An unspoken pact hung in the air—an understanding that some wounds, both physical and emotional, were better left undisturbed. You, too, had learned to tread lightly, knowing that certain questions bore the weight of unspoken burdens.

Your family, now including three vibrant souls, danced to the rhythm of a semi-normal life. The scars etched into the tapestry of existence were not worn as burdens but as symbols of resilience. The children, blissfully unaware of the shadows that once haunted their parents, reveled in the love that enveloped them.

Kyojuro, with his bright spirit, immersed himself in the mundane joys of family life. His laughter, a testament to the healing that transpired in the quiet interlude of days, echoed through the halls of your home. Yet, a shadow lingered in his eyes—a silent acknowledgment of the battles fought and the sacrifices made.

Conversations rarely veered towards the memories that were better left undisturbed. The stories you told your children from the days of the battlefield were carefully curated, leaving out the darker hues that painted the canvas of your past. Even within the sanctity of your home, some truths remained unspoken, the echoes of battles fought and demons conquered left in the annals of silence.

As the seasons changed and life flowed forward, there existed a shared understanding among the survivors—a tacit agreement to let the past rest, to allow the scars to heal in their own time. In the quiet moments of a year that marked both an ending and a beginning, the survivors navigated the delicate balance between remembrance and release, understanding that healing was a journey with its own pace, and time, a gentle guide towards restoration.