Disclaimer:
I do not own nor claim all the rights to 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer; all rights are reserved to its respective creator, Koyoharu Gotōge. This is purely a work of fiction; names, characters, businesses, events, localities, and occurrences are all extrapolated from the author's writings and imagination or utilized in a fictitious manner. As such, any direct or indirect references to actual entities, dead or alive, or events do not, in any shape or form, resemble the opinions of the author.
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"..." = Dialogue
'...' = Internal monologues
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Hey guys, I apologize for how little I'm updating. School and other stuff have been keeping me plenty busy, so I'm trying my best to find time to work on this. But otherwise, I don't plan on dropping this story—I intend to see through with this all the way.
This chapter was inspired by the movie "Batman: Gotham Knight". Specifically, the subsection by the same title, "Working Through Pain". Most of the images are credited to this specific source.
Also, thank you all for 1 thousand views! We've reached a major milestone!
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Giyuu
There was soft laughter somewhere in the household, about two successive rooms yonder.
Such aberration from the tranquility that engrossed the vicinity was the primary impetus for my sudden rouse from sleep.
I felt light-headed, my eyelids were pressing down upon me; a motion that was indicative of my lassitude and abrupt awakening from my slumber. I was encased with a multitude of blankets and other means of containing the heat from otherwise eluding me on this cold, numbing winter weather. Even within the confines of my abode, the lack of modern insulation within the structure of my modest residence induced its inhabitants to covet other means of staying warm.
The house wasn't too modest, nor was it too extravagant to espouse a higher social status than my contemporary standing in Japanese society. The lifetime of the building dates back to the latter years of the Meiji Era when my father constructed this domicile to act as the official residence of his future family when he courted my mother. However, as time passed, these dormant halls ultimately came to the legal and hereditary ownership of my sister, Tomioka Tsutako.
My sister was a calm, collected, phlegmatic character whose natural aptitude to maintain equanimity when under extreme circumstances and stress has allowed for her to adapt to the world of finances, housekeeping, and adulthood with ease—despite being at the young age of 17. As such, in the absence of any parental aid or financial pedagogy to amplify her understanding of the subject, her undertaking of the habit of economizing and upholding frugality has permitted appropriations made within the Tomioka household to be well within reach of what is feasible with the given input of revenue. In other words, she is the reason why we're not living on the fringes of extreme poverty.
Even so, with no additional revenue procured due to the unavailability of either parents or a working-age younger brother, my sister's extreme devotion to her parsimonious propensities has subjected her to a life of incessant and prodigious laboring. Meanwhile, I can only stand idly by and watch her toil every day to put a roof over my head, food on my plate, and a school for me to attend. It's frustrating to not have the power to do anything.
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