*ON HOLD* Natsumi Hara never thought he would ever love anyone other than his little brother. Sure, he cared about many people and always had a smile on his face. But that was until he met two souls over his years of being a demon slayer.
sanegiyuu...
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PROLOGUE
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The moon hung low and heavy in the sky, casting a pallid glow over the once-serene village nestled among the mountains. The night was eerily still, broken only by the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional mournful cry of a night bird. The peaceful village, so often bathed in the comforting warmth of daylight, was now shrouded in an unsettling silence.
Eleven-year-old Natsumi Hara moved through the darkness with a mixture of trepidation and determination. His small frame, though fragile, was tense with an urgent, desperate resolve. Clutched in his hand was a makeshift wooden sword, the weight of which seemed to grow heavier with each step he took. His heart pounded, each beat echoing the fears that had haunted him since he had left the safety of his home.
Thick shadows now obscured Natsumi's once-clear path, and the flickering lanterns lining the village streets had been extinguished, casting the village into an oppressive darkness. As he approached his family's modest home, an unsettling chill crept along his spine. The air was thick with an acrid smell—one he had come to recognize as the stench of death and blood.
His mind raced with frantic thoughts of his parents and younger brother, Hanae. He had been separated from them earlier in the night when the demon had struck. The memories of the screaming villagers and the swift, brutal carnage haunted him. Desperation had driven him to this place, hoping against hope that he would find them safe.
Natsumi's eyes scanned the wreckage of his home, where broken beams and scattered belongings told a tale of violence and despair. The front door lay ajar, creaking softly in the breeze. The interior was dark, and the silence within was deafening. He took a deep breath, mustering the courage to step inside.
As he crossed the threshold, the full extent of the horror became apparent. The once-familiar warmth of his home was replaced by a cold, unfeeling void. The furniture was overturned, and the walls were smeared with dark stains. Natsumi's heart ached as he recognized the traces of his family's presence—their scattered belongings, the half-finished meals, and the small toys that Hanae had left behind.
A guttural sob escaped Natsumi's lips as he ventured deeper into the house. The air was thick with sorrow and regret, and each step felt heavier than the last. He moved cautiously through the living room, where the once-cheerful space was now a scene of devastation. He found the bodies of his parents, their lives cruelly snuffed out by the demon's merciless attack.
His mother, a gentlewoman whose smile had once been a beacon of comfort, lay motionless on the floor, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Her left arm was severed from her body; she was completely missing a chunk of her face, so much so you could see her brain matter. Her stomach had what seemed to be claw strips in it, exposing some of her intestines.
His father, who had been a pillar of strength and protection, was similarly lifeless, a look of anguish frozen on his face. His lower half was completely missing and was instead on the other side of the room, missing many chunks of flesh. Their final moments must have been filled with terror and pain, and Natsumi could scarcely comprehend the extent of their suffering.
Tears streamed down his face as he fell to his knees beside them, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "No... no, please..." he whispered, his voice cracking with grief. He had hoped for a miracle, but the stark reality before him shattered those hopes.
But even amid the overwhelming sorrow, a glimmer of determination remained. Hanae, his precious little brother, was still missing. Natsumi knew that if Hanae was alive, he would have been taken by the demon. A deep, instinctive drive to protect his brother spurred him on, overriding his grief.
He forced himself to rise, wiping the tears from his eyes and focusing on the task at hand. Natsumi moved through the wreckage with renewed resolve, calling out softly, "Hanae! Hanae, where are you?"
His voice echoed through the empty house, but there was no response. He continued his search, moving from room to room with a mixture of dread and hope. The remnants of their lives—family photos, toys, and personal items—were scattered amidst the ruin. Each item was a painful reminder of what had been lost.
Finally, Natsumi reached the small bedroom he had shared with Hanae. The room was eerily untouched compared to the rest of the house. He spotted a small, hidden nook behind a bookcase—Hanae's secret hiding place, where the boy had often gone to escape from nightmares and fears.
Natsumi approached the nook with bated breath, his heart racing with a mix of hope and fear. He moved the bookcase aside and peered into the small space. There, curled up in a tight ball, was Hanae. The boy's face was pale and streaked with tears, but he was breathing—alive, if barely.
"Hanae!" Natsumi cried, his voice trembling with relief. He reached into the nook, gently pulling his younger brother into his arms. Hanae stirred, his eyes opening to find his older brother's tear-streaked face.
"N-Natsumi?" Hanae whispered, his voice weak. "Are Mom and Dad...?"
Natsumi's heart ached at the question, but he forced himself to be strong. "They're gone, Hanae. But we need to get out of here. It's not safe."
He held Hanae close, his own fear and sorrow tempered by the need to protect his brother. With Hanae in his arms, Natsumi made his way out of the house, stepping over the debris and into the cold night air. The village lay in ruins, but the bond between the two siblings remained unbroken.
As they emerged into the darkness, Natsumi's resolve hardened. He would find a safe place for Hanae, and he would seek vengeance for the lives lost. The demon that had caused this destruction would not go unpunished. The path ahead was uncertain and fraught with danger, but Natsumi knew that he had to be strong—for Hanae's sake, and the memory of their family.
The moonlight cast long shadows over the desolate village, and Natsumi, with Hanae clinging to him, began their journey into the unknown. The world was vast and treacherous, but in the heart of the storm, Natsumi's resolve burned brightly—an unwavering beacon of hope and determination.
