親密さ | 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘
↳（ yandere kny x fem! reader ）
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➥ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, a girl suddenly wakes up in an otome game version of demon slayer, trying to gain the hearts of the target characters and win a happy ending while not realizing ju...
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"PATHETIC," Sanemi scowled down at (Y/N) who was currently lying flat on her back panting heavily, the man standing above her whilst tapping a wooden training sword against his shoulder in distaste. "How do you expect to protect anyone with that weak mentality of yours? Work until you bleed, fight until you die. But do you really wanna die so easily? Get up."
(Y/N) stared hazily up at the blue sky.
Ugh...
Lemme just die.
Groaning as she rolled over to shakily stand to her feet, the cheers from Mitsuri, Kyojuro, and Tengen on the sidelines doing little to spur her forward, she then let out a heavy breath. Sanemi's training style was brutal—more so, it was just beating her up until she collapsed.
Already, she had several bruises.
"Man..." she groaned whilst rubbing out the kinks in her neck. "You really don't go easy, huh?"
"'Easy'?" Sanemi scoffed at the words as he jerked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. "Trying to do anything 'easy' will just get you killed. I told you, didn't I? You'll be strong. You just have to do whatever it takes to obtain that strength."
She blinked at him.
I mean, I guess he is right.
But still, being beaten up isn't exactly a fun pastime here, buddy!
Sighing again, she ground her feet into the dirt to steady herself, gripping her own wooden sword tightly in her hands. She winced slightly at the contact, slightly pulling her hand away to see calluses beginning to form at the points where the most friction in using her sword was. Internally groaning at the problem, she decided to set the slight pain aside as she readied herself for Sanemi's neck attack.
It came very quickly.
He sped towards her in a burst of speed and a flurry of wind, his gaze of primal intensity that almost left her rooted to the ground with fear. Thankfully, her instincts shoved her away from his attack with barely a hairbreadth of space between sword and flesh. Backing away, feeling as if she were avoiding death each time, (Y/N) could feel a bead of cold sweat building on the back of her neck. Sanemi was merciless, his muscles straining with each swipe of his wooden sword as if barely holding himself back from completely obliterating her.
She was thankful she was not a demon.
As the afternoon wore on into early evening, both Gyomei and Muichiro also aiding (Y/N) in her training whilst Kyojuro and Tengen called out pointers and helpful tips, she began to start moving more sluggishly than before. Just as she was slicing off a strand of Muichiro's hair, surprising him, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she collapsed.
