The Crystal's Whisper and The Wind's Embrace

Chapter 58: Wounds We Don't Speak Of

Sanemi wasn't good with apologies.

He had grown up in a world where survival came before softness, where vulnerability meant weakness, and apologies were drowned by silence.

But now, as he stood outside Tsukiyo's room—again—he realised silence had only brought him further from the one person who had managed to get through.

He stared at the closed sliding door for what felt like hours. His hand hovered near it, clenched, then dropped. Again.

Tch. Get a grip.

He turned and walked away.

But what am I even supposed to say?

"I'm sorry I hurt you"?

"Sorry I made you cry when all you did was try to care?"

He raked a hand through his hair, jaw tight. The words burned in his throat, unfamiliar and clumsy.

But he knew one thing. He wanted her back. He had hurt her. And he hated himself for it.

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Across the village, Tsukiyo stood before the koi pond, watching the ripples bleed across the surface. The wind tousled her long hair, but she didn't feel it. Her mind was a storm of faces and choices.

Sanemi. Genya. Hiroshi.

She could barely keep her breath steady these days.

Her heart ached with a question she couldn't voice aloud: If I lose them all... what am I even fighting for?

She closed her eyes, the weight of her heart dragging her chest down.

When she opened them again, she murmured, "What am I supposed to do?"

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Far from the warmth of the village, Hiroshi stood before an altar of decayed stone and twisted roots, surrounded by shadows that pulsed like living veins.

His face, once warm and gentle, was hardened now—twisted by years of silent resentment.

He remembered their childhood. How Tsukiyo always outshone him, even when he tried his best.

He remembered how she advanced through the ranks faster. How the Master praised her spirit. How the Demon Slayers admired her composure, her grace, her strength.

And he remembered the first time he felt it—that flicker of bitterness.

The shame of always being one step behind.

"She was always the star," he muttered, jaw clenched. "No matter how hard I worked, she was always better."

The resentment festered. The jealousy became venom.

"She still believes you can be saved," a voice echoed in his mind.

But his mind rejected the notion. She chose them. She let me fall.

He stood slowly, cracking his knuckles one by one.

And when Muzan's whisper finally found him in his moment of weakness... it didn't take much to let go.

"She never saw how hard I tried," Hiroshi hissed. "She only saw what she wanted me to be."

From the shadows, a low voice slithered.

"She's forgotten you now. Replaced you."

"She chose him."

"I know," Hiroshi said bitterly. "That's why I'll tear down everything she built."