The Pig, The Mask, and The Slayers [Redux]

[~Chapter 3: Mundanity~]

When he did, the Demon immediately began to take off his clothing. Giyuu couldn't help but look as if it was the only other thing he had to really look at; and what he saw shocked him.

Aside from what he knew to be true, that being that the Demon was exceptionally well-built—it wasn't a stretch to say that his muscles had muscles, because that almost looked to be the case—but he was also littered head-to-toe with scars.

Demons, from what he was aware, shouldn't have scars. Any and all wounds should have healed. Even after Demonification, all wounds and prior scars either changed into markings or simply healed over.

There was one particular scar that stuck out the most, though. And it was the scar that was around his neck. It looked like he had been decapitated before.

That sent shivers down Giyuu's spine.

He had been decapitated before and lived.

Now, of course, he reasoned that it wasn't with a Nichirin blade, but even so. Someone had gotten close enough to cut off his head—someone who bled and struggled to put this Demon to his death, and divorced his head from his shoulders, only for it to end up futile.

"Just what are you?" Giyuu thought as he watched Pink Skin enter the hot water, sighing with a relaxed tone as he sank underneath the watery depths, keeping his nose above water whilst he closed his eyes.

When Pink Skin did that, and when he knew that Pink Skin wasn't looking, he began to take off his clothing. His Haori fell to the ground against the snowy ground. He then unbuttoned his uniform and stripped down to his undergarments. They soon fell to the wayside, leaving behind the bandages around his chest.

He stared at them for a second, a frown taking up his face as he slowly began to unravel them, careful to not tear the bandages. By the time he was done, there was a small pile atop his dirty clothing, and his... chest was in full view.

He hated it.

He hated it beyond anything else in his cursed body.

But there was no sense in lingering on it. It was big, and it was a disturbance to his very being. The fat sacs on his chest would be gone one day. He knew they would be. He just had to find the right doctor, and they'd be gone.

If... if he could find the right doctor. He should've corrected that. His colleague, Shinobu Kocho, for as good of a medicinal doctor she was, was not a surgeon. If she was, he would've asked her to do this for him when he truly got to know her.

And that was assuming any doctor would do it for him. And then there was... well. His other problem. He lacked the thing that most men were supposed to have.

It would make his very existence whole, and yet, he lacked it.

He wished he had it. He wanted it. He needed it. No matter how hard he knew in his mind he was a man, his body did not replicate that feeling—that existence. It was as if whatever God was out there was openly mocking him for giving him the body that he had.

He hated his body. With a passion.

He wished he was never born in the body he was in.

Maybe... someday in the future, he could look forward to the body he had always wanted to have. But that day wasn't going to be today, or the next, or the day after that.

But it would happen one day. He was sure of it.

"One day..." Giyuu thought, before walking into the water and submerging himself completely with the exception of his neck, mouth, nose and eyes.