𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬

chapter 31

Iguro Pov:

The village was alive with activity as Obanai and Giyuu made their rounds, gathering information from the locals. The sun hung high in the sky, bathing the streets in a warm glow, but Obanai felt a familiar coldness creeping into his bones—a warning that danger was near, though it was not the demon they hunted that chilled him.

As they moved from house to house, the villagers eagerly shared their stories of strange noises and unexplained disappearances. Obanai listened carefully, his senses attuned to any detail that might hint at the demon’s whereabouts. But it wasn’t the villagers’ words that disturbed him—it was the way the women of the village kept looking at him.

“Excuse me, young man,” an elderly woman said as she approached, her voice kind but curious. “Why do you hide your face behind that mask? A handsome boy like you shouldn’t cover up.”

Obanai’s hand instinctively moved to touch the cloth that covered his scars. The mask was his shield, a barrier between himself and a world that had only ever brought him pain. Her question, though innocent, sent a jolt of fear through him—fear rooted in memories he tried desperately to forget.

Another woman, younger and bolder, stepped closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Why don’t you show us what’s underneath?” she teased, her voice light but probing.

Obanai’s heart began to pound, his breathing quickening as more women gathered around, their curiosity becoming more intrusive. He tried to back away, but they moved with him, their voices blending into a cacophony that echoed in his mind.

He was suddenly a child again, surrounded by the women of his family, their hands grasping, their voices cold and unfeeling. They had treated him like a tool, a means to an end, never a person with thoughts or feelings of his own. Their faces, twisted in resentment and hatred, flashed before his eyes, and he could hear his cousin’s bitter words ringing in his ears“It’s your fault we all died. If you hadn’t run away, none of this would have happened.”

Obanai’s vision blurred, and he felt as if the world was closing in on him. The memories clawed at him, dragging him back into the darkness he had fought so hard to escape.

Just when he thought he would drown in it, a hand gripped his shoulder, grounding him in the present. He looked up to see Giyuu standing beside him, his face as impassive as ever, but his presence was steady and calming—a lifeline in the storm.

“Ladies,” Giyuu said, his voice cool and firm, “he’s uncomfortable. Please give him some space.”

The women, startled by Giyuu’s intervention, exchanged uncertain glances. After a moment, they murmured apologies and slowly backed away, giving Obanai the room he so desperately needed.

Obanai took a shaky breath, the cold sweat on his skin beginning to evaporate as the panic subsided. He turned to Giyuu, a mix of gratitude and irritation swirling inside him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, barely meeting Giyuu’s eyes. “But don’t expect anything more.”

Giyuu simply nodded, his expression unreadable as he turned to continue their patrol. Obanai watched him for a moment, the lingering effects of the panic attack still making his heart pound. He clenched his fists, pushing the memories back down, burying them where they couldn’t hurt him.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. They spoke to more villagers, gathering information and scouting the area for signs of the demon. But no matter what they did, Obanai couldn’t shake the unease that gnawed at him, a reminder of the wounds that had never fully healed.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting the village in a warm, golden light, they prepared to leave. The villagers thanked them profusely, and Obanai forced himself to nod in acknowledgment, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground to avoid any more unwanted attention.

As they began their journey back to the Wisteria House, Obanai risked a glance at Giyuu, his eyes catching on the other Hashira’s features. Giyuu’s face was calm, his expression as serene as always, but there was something about the way the light played off his features that made Obanai’s stomach twist in an unfamiliar way. He quickly looked away, his face heating up as he mentally berated himself.

Focus,he told himself, clenching his fists as they walked. There’s no time for distractions.

But as they continued down the path, the sensation lingered a strange, unsettling warmth that refused to be ignored.