To the Flames of the Sun

Chapter Nine

I. Am. Going. Feral. HERE'S THE REAL DEAL, GUYS, THE REAL LOVE!

Giyu's POV

My older sister, Tsutako nee-san, often used to talk about how exciting the prospect of love and marriage was. Her one greatest dream was to fall in love, marry, and raise a little family of her own; starting from her second child. Yes, second child. Apparently, I was her first child. And so she would keep ranting to me about how beautiful and exhilarating love could be. When she had actually fallen in love with a man, her excitement had only amplified. She was certain that he was the one for her, that he made all her beautiful and exhilarating dreams about love come true, and that they were going to remain together throughout all their births and rebirths. That was simply how powerful love was supposed to be.

Then she had been killed a day before her wedding, all on account of saving me.

Her fiance had not made the situation any easier for me, constantly blaming me for the death of his future wife; sometimes verbally and sometimes physically. I silently endured it all, because I knew he was right. I knew I was the reason my sister was never going to be able to fulfill her dreams of being a married woman deeply in love with her husband.

And nothing had ever made me feel more miserable in my entire life.

Eventually, after a particularly awful beating which was the only thing Nee-san's former fiance had visited me at the orphanage for, I had decided to end it. I had fled into the forest, running until I had arrived at the edge of a cliff below which the bottom of the waterfall had not even been visible to me.

The only reason I had not jumped that day was a man named Urokodaki Sakonji.

He had carried me back to his cottage and introduced me to Sabito, who had also lost his only surviving family to demons. We had begun our training to enter the Final Selection together since then, and had also managed to successfully enter the Final Selection together.

Only one of us made it out.

Sabito had been the only casualty of the Final Selection that had been held three months ago. He had died protecting me as well as all the other contestants from the largest demon present in that forest. Once again, I had been the cause for the death of the one person I had managed to open my heart to after Nee-san's demise. It was no demon's fault. It was mine.

All mine.

I hadn't been too surprised that most of my fellow demon slayers had not exactly enjoyed working with me in the last three months, or that even the apparent doctor here, Kocho Shinobu, verbally bullied me every chance she got. I deserved the mistreatment. I deserved all the mistreatment and unhappiness available in this world.

So then why that young girl named Midori had stitched up both those special haoris for me had been beyond my understanding.

Being Kocho's younger sister, I expected her to verbally bully me as well, or maybe even straight up ignore my existence, simply because her sister would have taught her as much. But, much to my astonishment, she had actually apologized to me for her sister's behaviour, that too her older sister's behaviour. I had been stunned into silence by her unrelenting kindness towards me, especially when she had arrived with that new haori.

One half was made of Sabito's haori, and the other was made of my sister's haori.

When I had asked her if she had stitched the whole thing herself, she had beamed proudly and nodded in affirmation, telling me that her foster mother had taught her the crucial life kill. Before long, I had found myself listening to her incredible life story about her father being the very creator of Breathing styles and how she had been raised by the first users of Breathing styles and how something known as a time machine had brought her here. What was even more shocking to me though was that I had listened to every word of her tale with both my ears wide open, my heart clinging to even the smallest gasps she would produce when taking a breath during her narration. I usually never paid complete attention to what anyone was saying, zoning out in the middle of the conversation because I no longer considered myself worthy of talking to anyone. I no longer considered myself worthy of even staying alive. The only reason I had continued to live to go on to become a demon slayer was to honor Sabito's memory.