Amnesia: The Taste Of Solitude (SaneGiyuu)

Prologue

The world around Giyuu Tomioka was an expanse of boundless darkness, a vast ocean where time had lost all meaning. He floated weightlessly, adrift in an endless, starless night, where days, weeks, or even months melded into a hazy blur. In this abyss, he was enveloped by an overwhelming silence and a profound emptiness.

Occasionally, shards of memories pierced the void—flickers of the past that drifted by like fragments of a forgotten dream. He glimpsed his fellow Demon Slayers, their faces etched with determination and fear, and relived the fierce battles against relentless demons, the clash of swords, and the spray of blood. These memories felt like distant echoes, mere shadows of a life that seemed almost unreal.

Among these spectral visions, one face emerged more vividly than the rest—a pair of stormy eyes brimming with a mix of fury and sorrow. The eyes belonged to Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Wind Hashira, whose intense gaze seemed to resonate with a significance Giyuu couldn't quite grasp. Each time Giyuu reached out to grasp this memory, it slipped away, like trying to catch water with his bare hands.

In the real world, Giyuu lay still, his body a stark contrast to the vibrant activity of the Demon Slayer Corps. The room around him was filled with the hushed murmurs of his comrades and the soft shuffle of footsteps. Among them, Sanemi was a constant presence, his visits marked by a silent vigil. He sat by Giyuu's side, his eyes fixed on the still form, occasionally whispering words of encouragement or sharing memories of their shared battles in the hopes of stirring some reaction.

Sanemi's heart ached with the fear that Giyuu might never awaken, that their hard-won bond could be lost forever in the void of his coma. This uncertainty drove Sanemi to remain by Giyuu's side, a steadfast beacon of hope in the midst of despair.

As time marched on, the world outside continued its relentless pace. Demons prowled the night, battles raged, and lives were lost. Yet, in the quiet room where Giyuu lay, time seemed to stand still, a testament to the enduring strength of friendship and love.

Then, one day, a faint light began to emerge from the depths of Giyuu's unconsciousness. It started as a weak glimmer but steadily grew, pushing back the darkness that had held him captive. A strange sensation pulled him toward consciousness, and the fragmented images of his past began to coalesce into a clearer picture. He felt the stirrings of awareness as the encroaching light brightened and the silence receded.

The murmur of a voice and the rustle of movement began to filter through the haze. The sounds grew clearer, and amidst them, one voice seemed to anchor him, calling him back from the brink. Giyuu fought against the chains of his coma, each effort met with resistance but driven by a fierce determination.

As the light grew ever brighter, Giyuu's vision slowly sharpened. The disorienting swirl of shapes and colors began to resolve into clarity. Giyuu had returned, but the journey of rediscovery had only just begun.