Demonslayer x Male Reader Oneshots

Sanemi x Reader (Part 5)

It's a little shorter this time, sorry.  The next chapter will be longer and more lore heavy.

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"Sanemi! Please!"

I couldn't move.

"Stop it! No! Please!"

He was too wounded to fight back.

"Don't! God, please!"

The infected tore into the chest.

There was a scream. Maybe it was mine. I didn't really know. But he laid there, blood and infection leaking from his mangled body.

I couldn't save him. It was my fault.

Again.

"Mom, I'm sorry!"

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My body jolted violently, spine tensed and arms convulsing with something pressing against my mouth. Struggling, I kicked and turned, my weary mind trying to kickstart what was happening in the dark right now. The fear of the infected hit first, then the fear of stragglers or cultists getting to me.

Someone or something had their hand over my mouth and wouldn't let go even while I squirmed and tried to bite in vain. It wasn't until I was pinched in my side paired with a familiar hush that I started to calm down.

"Be quiet unless you're trying to get us killed. There's infected outside," Sanemi's voice barely whispered in my ear in the dark of the warehouse. I hadn't even been aware I was crying, tears wet on my face and along his hand. He started to pull back just slightly so I could take small gulps of air to keep myself quiet.

Once I was more awake, I could hear it. Infected were known to scratch around for food as well as to navigate but what separated the sound from a small animal was the shaky sobbing escaping the poor corpse. Regardless of the person that had lost their life to the infection, they all cried the same in death.

The first time I had heard it had left my heart aching in both fear and pain. They sounded so miserable, just as lost in this world as the few living souls trying to survive. It's not too much of a surprise that religions adapted to the idea of souls still existing in their shells of flesh, wishing to be freed and put to rest. I preferred the idea that my mom had been freed the moment the infection had struck her down. It was better to think that way than to imagine her mangled body keeping her alive against her will.

With it being late at night, I couldn't see which window might have the infected stumbling behind it. Glancing up where Sanemi was supposed to be didn't help much either with him cast in shadows. My hand reached up to trace along his arm to his shoulder, fingers finding his neck and up into his hair to discern where his attention was focused.

I ignored the slight tremble of his body while slowly sitting up and reaching for my knife beside my sleeping bag just in case, facing the direction I felt his head turned to. The crying was slightly muffled, assuring me that the infected was outside at least. As long as we stayed quiet, we didn't have to worry about the animated body crashing through the window to get to us. It would only alert anything else around the area where we were. I didn't have plans to leave this safe haven with Sanemi anytime soon as much as I could help it.

We sat side by side in the dark, my hand on his arm for comfort and as a promise he was still there even if I couldn't see him. Eventually the thing left, its cries faraway and allowing me a chance to release the breath I had been holding. Leaning against Sanemi, I wiped the lingering tears from my eyes, already forgetting what had made me cry in the first place. Or at least wanting to forget anyways.

He didn't move away for a while for which I was grateful. It gave me time to pull myself together even if it meant nursing the emotional wound I still carried in front of him. I found myself not minding that he was there, most likely watching me in the dark as I sniffled as quietly as I could. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make any noise. I just remembered my mom from a nightmare..." I started quietly in case the infected wasn't as far away as I thought.

"You don't have to tell me. It's none of my business." His voice was lowered and rough but not necessarily unkind. I could tell the difference now between him putting space between us and creating space between topics. Without even having to see his eyes, I could feel the careful concern in the way his arm was settled around my shoulders.

"No, I want to. I want someone else to know about her, so I don't have to carry the memories alone," I whisper, moving to curl up against his side while hoping he'd allow my words and my presence. He barely moved and it was only to grasp my shoulder to hold me close, the warmth of his side satiating my goosebumps. "It sounds selfish when I say it out loud like that..."

"Not at all. I understand. I think you're the only person I'd consider spilling my secrets to. I don't want to die and rid the world of my family's legacy either," he nodded in the dark. It was a morbid comfort at least. An understanding pulling us closer than I had ever dared to hope. And so I took a deep breath and leaned my head against his shoulder before recalling the memories of my mother.