The Butterfly's Embrace | Demon Slayer x Male OC

Chapter 1

Meiji Period Year 1906

A young boy, clad in an indigo haori adorned with a delicate tree branch and leaf pattern, trudged down a desolate dirt road under the pale light of a full moon. The path before him was barely illuminated, and the night was filled with the subtle hum of insects and distant rustlings of nocturnal creatures.

This wasn't his first nocturnal journey; he frequently moved from village to village, offering his sword to those in need. But tonight was different. As he ventured down the road, he suddenly found his path obstructed by a menacing figure standing a few meters ahead.

The boy halted, his electric blue eyes narrowing on the ominous silhouette. Though he was accustomed to encountering bandits and thugs, this figure radiated an unsettling aura that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"I'm just passing through," the boy said, pulling back the side of his haori to reveal his katana, hoping to intimidate the stranger.

A burst of eerie laughter erupted in response. "I just killed three Slayers with ease," the figure taunted, his voice a disturbing mix of human and something else. The boy didn't fully grasp what 'Slayers' were, but he understood the man was a dangerous killer boasting of his deeds.

The boy's stomach churned with horror as the figure entered the moonlight. The man's body was grotesquely covered in what appeared to be black, writhing threads, twisting and coiling around his joints.

Before the boy could react, the figure raised two arms and hurled them toward him, the black threads propelling them like deadly missiles. The boy fumbled with his katana, but the hands reached him first, wrapping around his neck and yanking him violently toward the grotesque figure.

"Such speed and strength!" The boy couldn't breathe properly; the hands felt like they were about to crush his throat at any moment.

Fumbling with his katana, he desperately tried to unsheathe it. The speed at which he was being pulled made it even more difficult. Still, he somehow managed to draw his blade and, without hesitation, swung it hard, slicing through both arms before rolling expertly on the ground. He finally took deep breaths, still feeling the aftermath of the crushing grip on his neck.

The boy in the indigo haori readied a battle stance, preparing to counterattack. He was shocked to see the man lifting his severed hands as they started magically healing as if nothing had happened.

"How!? Can this thing even be killed?" he thought, his mind racing. His previous counterattack plan halted as he reconsidered his strategy.

Seeing the surprise on the boy's face, the man spoke once more. "Yes, the face of despair. See, human boy, we demons are far above you. I can't be killed. Slice me as much as you want, but my limbs will always grow back."

"D-Demon!" the boy exclaimed, recalling the children's folk tales. "No... it's not a folk tale. The man before him was a true, breathing demon for sure."

"Still, there should be a way to kill it," he thought, trying to devise a logical solution. His hands trembled, his feet slowly shifted backward, and his breathing was inconsistent, making it harder to think clearly.

Detached limbs, superhuman strength, and speed were all attributes of the demon. There might be even more hidden abilities. He hated to admit it, but the demon was right—it had a huge advantage. He touched his burning throat, still hurting, and thought about how fragile he was compared to the demon.

Running away was not an option; he couldn't outrun it. He had to stand his ground and fight. There had to be a weakness. While thinking this, the demon relaunched one of its arms, but the boy was ready this time. He ran backward, giving himself more distance before slicing the arm again.