❝Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn into poetry. All the blood was never once beautiful, it was just red.❞
A story of a half breed, half human half demon, that walked the earth hated. She learned of selfishness and blood lust far soo...
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As Y/N watched the battle unfold before her, her grip on her sword tightened, though she hadn't lifted it once. Tanjirou's blade clashed against the wicked grin of Upper Moon Four, his movements driven by sheer determination. Tokito danced through the air with practiced precision, his Mist Breathing creating fleeting openings in the enemy's attacks. Mitsuri, despite her soft nature, moved like a ribbon in the wind, striking with deadly grace.
They didn't need her. They were strong, resolute, and determined to win this battle. The fight raged on, and yet she stood there, an observer in a war she was meant to be a part of. What was her purpose?
She had fought alongside them before. She had proven herself again and again, yet in the face of such a battle, doubt clawed at her heart. They would win without me. It wasn't a question but a fact. Whether she was here or not, the outcome wouldn't change.
So why was she this way? Why did she exist, straddling the line between two worlds? To make peace? The thought rang hollow. The demons she wanted to understand were the same ones the Demon Slayers were destined to eradicate. So what am I here for?
Her heart ached, an unfamiliar burn in her chest. She had always fought for what she believed was right, for the balance she longed to see in the world. Yet here, with her blade still sheathed, she felt like nothing more than an intruder—more in the way than anything else.
Would she ever truly belong?
A sickening crack of stone jolted Y/N from her thoughts as Mitsuri was sent flying backward, crashing into the rubble. A strangled gasp left her lips, but she gritted her teeth, forcing herself up despite the pain.
Tanjirou roared, his blade alight with flame as he lunged at Upper Moon Four, the heat of his attack illuminating the battlefield. Tokito's form blurred, his Mist Breathing creating phantoms that surrounded Upper Moon Five, keeping him at bay. They fought with everything they had—pushing forward despite their wounds, despite their exhaustion.
And Y/N...
She stood there. Watching. Useless.
Her hands trembled at her sides, the weight of her sword pressing against her back. A hollow emptiness curled in her stomach. She had spent her whole life fighting—training, surviving, proving she was more than just a half-blood. And yet, here she was, questioning everything.
