✻|| 𝓡𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮 ||✶ - 鬼滅の刃

【𝓞𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓲】

Requested by: FloofyChimmy

↠Fluff
↠Angst
↠Fem Reader

Word Count - 3406
Accismus - Published 11/03/20

Accismus: Feigning disinterest in something while actually desiring it.
»»———————————————————««

Obanai knew you were friendly—Everyone knew you were friendly.

You always put on a bright smile to even the unfamiliar people you passed by on the streets, offering a gentle expression and sometimes even a wave. Your kindness was unparalleled, and truly, with that peaceful presence of yours, not a single soul would expect you to fall victim to such a deadly line of work.

Your bright eyes, sparkling with life had always crinkled into an amused gaze, your pink lips curving up just the slightest which would effectively make the man's heart flutter. Such a beautiful face, untroubled from the terrifying demons lurking among the shadows. It made him jealous of the way you could wade deeper into harms way, yet hold your head high from the suffocating sea of regret.

The staining blood that wept deep into your uniform, forever tainting the fabric, yet because of the dark weaves it remained unnoticed by your soft gaze. The katana grasped within your hands dripped the same metallic sheen, yet you'd wipe it away—and move on. Every dissipating corpse left from beneath your feet, and every whisper of darkness failed your ears.

It was as if that kindness was all that was left from your past, and you clung so desperately to that lone thread. It was a will of your own to move on, encouraging you to protect those who still had what you had lost. As if you could fix your own past mistakes—of blood and misery and horror.

Because unlike Obanai, you were able to move on and repent for the losses. The silent prayers you offered after each snap of your wrist, each slice of your sword, were useless among the disintegrating demons, yet you still repeated prayer after prayer. He continued to find sorrow in the deceptive wills of the past, blaming himself, cursing himself for the blood that forever stained his pale skin, coursed through his poisonous veins. He just couldn't move on.

At times he questioned why such senseless things could manage to have you beam in delight, to elicit the bubbling sound of laughter from your flowery lips. The threat that had taken everything from your trivial little lives still lived on, and unless it was completely gone, he couldn't manage those delighted feelings.

A smile felt foreign to his bandaged lips, the contagious sounds of laughter that wanted to fill his throat sounded empty in comparison to your own. Happiness just wasn't achievable with this cruel and daunting life of swordsmanship, because it was kill or be killed.

Yet whenever Obanai's mismatched gaze fell upon your lofty form, the usual hatred that wanted to course through his veins ceased to exist, and instead his heart longed to join in on the feeling. Despite being great acquaintances actually—regardless of your lower status as a swordsmen—the shared moments were of uncomfortable silence in recent days.

You no longer smiled around him, your lips pressed tight in a fine little line.

An odd-eyed glare, penetrating through your laughter-filled moments, and you'd turn to find him with that aura of hostility—furious, angry that you could show such an expression without him. The abrupt conversations and sharp tone of his failed to allow you any leeway with your happiness, and the friend—the family you had left was fleeting. Certainly Obanai wasn't even close to your biological family, but those first moments upon meeting the man made that feeling arise, but you certainly wouldn't tell him that.