░『Zephyr』░(KNY OC STORY/ KNY OC X KNY-OLD/DISCONTINUED)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹𝟶: 𝙱𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚎𝚍

"Over here! Across the field!" Hana flaps her wings above Fukurō, gusting her direction around. 

"... Are you sure? It looks normal to me..." Fukurō mumbles, scratching the back of her neck. "Ah.. Nevermind."

Stepping through the dry fields, Fukurō tugs her uniform pants over the vine-coloured cloth around her calves, making sure there was not a patch of skin exposed to demon claws, from her pants to her zōri*.

".. Hana, how powerful is that demon supposed to be?" She asks, smoothing her fingertip over her chewed-up nails.

"The only information we were able to gather about them is that they primarily feast on adult women and young children! From infant children to women who have just been married, this demon makes this variety it's next meal!" 

Fukurō's excited demeanour completely dissolved, an anger building up from the pit of her stomach. 'Those who have only begun their life? How crude!'

"I'm going in." Fukurō states, voice low in pitch. "In the meantime, Hana, you can enjoy yourself. Don't worry about me, just think about how you can spend the rest of the night." She reassures her crow.

Hana looks at Fukurō with worry, and follows silently behind her despite her orders.

* * *

'... It's so... Dusty. And rough, like wax..' Fukurō irks, itching her arms uncomfortably. It was dead silent, except for one sound..

'... Buzzing? Are those...bees..?'

It wasn't just bees. Something eerie about the buzzes bothered her, and it wasn't the fact that bees were freely thriving in a waxy, possibly abandoned house. The buzzing was distorted, too deep and off-key to consider alive. The sound was like a cry for help.

Peeking around sliding, rough-textured doors, Fukurō wipes her hand on her pants, setting for opening the doors with her foot. Ah, there was even a beautiful mirror. Who would leave such a pretty thing like that? 'There isn't even one demon here. Was Hana given the wrong orders? Did I mishear her?'

After more itching and shuffling, Fukurō grumbles in disappointment. She considered giving up, but a stomach-turning smell reaches her nose before she can even decide such thing. The smell was familiar to her; blood and rotting flesh.

'A lead.' She believes, unsheathing her green Nichirin blade. Not only did the smell get stronger, but the buzzing got louder as well. Her senses grew more aware the closer she came towards the back door.

.. buzzz ..

Clear, glassy wings flash in front of her vision as Fukurō takes a step out the door.

"... Hmm.. Onee-chan, I think we have a visitor.." 

Fukurō freezes in place, heart beating out of her chest. She felt sharp gazes all over her, as if she was the centre of attention. 

"Ah. Tell me, miss. How old are you?" A mature and curious voice inquires.

Fukurō swallows the lump in her throat, pulling the sword closely to her. Where did the brave, fear-concealed Fukurō go? The girl who would jump through trees for fun? The one who assures everyone that she'll be okay?

".. I—.."

Multiple pairs of pitch-black, shining eyes stare back at her. "It's okay, Onee-chan. She looks too young to challenge you."