The World On His Shoulders | Demon slayer x Male reader

Chapter XXXVII

Y/N's POV 

The adrenaline that had fueled his incredible stand against Akaza was rapidly fading, leaving him in excruciating pain and paralyzed.

He could feel the sharp, stabbing sensations in his chest with each shallow breath he took, a clear indication that his shattered ribs had likely caused internal damage. The intense pain radiating from his chest suggested possible punctured organs, a horrible situation compounded by the fact that his heart had momentarily stopped beating during the fight.

His left eye, having suffered a severe blow, was effectively blind, contributing to his disorientation and helplessness. A nasty concussion, from the multiple blows to his head earlier in the fight, only added to his agony and confusion.

His ankle, twisted in the heat of battle, throbbed painfully. The strain in his abdominal muscles and lumbar region made even the slightest movement painful.

 His left arm, having been nearly crushed by Akaza, was in a state of severe trauma, his fingers barely responded.

Y/N's throat, raw and sore from all the shouting and screaming, made it nearly impossible to groan, let alone cry out for help. Every attempt to vocalize resulted in a sharp pain that coursed through his neck, courtesy of that shockwave that violently impacted his face..

Lying there, Y/N's mind was a whirlwind of pain, fear, and frustration. He was very aware of Akaza's presence nearby and the imminent reach of the sun.

 He wanted to cry out to Rengoku, to ask for help, but his body refused to cooperate. The combination of injuries – the shattered ribs, the concussion, the strained muscles, the twisted ankle, the damaged arm, and the sore throat – all rendered him immobile and silent.

He had pushed his body beyond its breaking point, and now, as he lay on the brink of unconsciousness, he was powerless to do anything more. The battle was over, but the fight for his life was just beginning.

Y/N's breathing became increasingly labored, each breath a sharp stab of pain that wracked his broken body. He fought back tears, not out of any notion of stoicism but from a deep, primal fear of what was happening to him. The realization that he was dying was setting in, and it filled him with a terror he had never known.

He desperately tried to use Total Breathing Concentration, a technique that had saved him countless times, to keep his heart beating, to keep his one good eye open. But his body was failing him; even this basic command seemed beyond his reach now.

"No, please no," he begged silently, the plea echoing in his mind. 

He was only 16, too young with too much left to do, too many people to help, too many people who cared for him.

His friends...the thought of their grief was unbearable. "Please don't close your eye," he told himself, trying to cling to consciousness.

 A weak, pathetic moan escaped his lips, the sound barely audible. Time seemed to distort, each second stretching out into an eternity of pain and fear.

Regrets flooded his mind. He had never been entirely honest about who he was, hiding behind a façade even with those closest to him. The thought of going to hell, where his abusive father might be waiting, was a terrifying prospect.

There was so much he had never told his friends – how much he loved each of them, how they had become his family in a way as well. His mother and siblings were waiting for him in the city; what would Sanemi feel when he found out?

"NO, NO NO NO NO," his mind screamed, but his body refused to respond. He was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And then he heard a voice, soft and familiar – his mother, Shizu, calling out to him. "Y/N..." Her voice was a distant echo in his agony.