Preface: Haku's POV

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NOTE:

Thank you Bre2k9 for bugging me to write this story~

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In all honesty, neither me or my younger brother resent our father's request to have us reside in the late Lady Kaede's village, we appreciate his concern when the night of the new moon draws near. This village is by far one of the safest places to be, not only because it's protected by a High Priestess with incredible spiritual powers, but also because former demon slayers and a monk live with their own family here too. For as long as I can remember, on the actual night of the new moon, the village would be visited by a demon who has always kept the area safe. He's got incredible stamina and admirable speed. This demon was one of the people my family members have been named after, and to say that he's living up to the name would be an understatement.

The only disadvantage of having to bed down in this village - other than the young village kids playing with our hair and ears, is the lack of legitimate entertainment, what is there to do when you can't even train using your commissioned demon swords? What is there to do when you cannot explore and hunt? The only thing that we can do is wallow in our thoughts, most of which are of our fallen Yukiko. She always seems to linger in our minds on this night.

Wandering through the village in which the five of us used to play, my brother, my cousins and of course, Yukiko herself, seems almost bitterly nostalgic. She shouldn't have fallen so early on in life, she shouldn't have been cut down. In all of these years, neither of us has been able to achieve the skill and power of our fallen sibling. Father always said to us that we each carried a large part of our mother with us, but now, a huge part of her memory, has left this world.

"Yukiko, you have your mother's face. Haku, you have your mother's spirit. Kou, you have your mother's drive. Do not take advantages of the gift she gave each of you."

We didn't take advantage of those gifts, if he had, my brother and I would, most certainly, be dead by her side. But Yukiko, despite having our mother's face, had the power and drive of our father and the nerve of our uncle. She was incredible. A perfectly specialised killing machine, equipped with all of the tools she would have needed to prosper on her own... I sigh and stare out at the nearby meadow of daisies and smile, thinking back to our childish games.

The wind suddenly seemed to smell like salt, had someone been shedding tears on the outskirts of the village? The scent's unfamiliar. I cannot place the aroma of the one with the salt, is a traveller hurt? But I cannot smell blood.

A flurry of red passes me by, my cousin has caught the scent too. He, like the demon he was named after, is renowned for speed. With a roll of my eyes, I turn to the direction that the wearer of the cloak of the fire rat is running.  

"Koga." He freezes, steadying his standing by grabbing an overhead branch; wind sweeping his rich onyx hair over his shoulder like he's posing for a portrait.

"What?" The older of the two of us challenges, leaping down from his current perch.

"Koga, I'll go. If there's something there, you might not be enough."

"Oh? And you will?" He raises an eyebrow, golden eyes trained on my hands, not that I would eagerly unsheathe one of my blades to face my own flesh and blood. We were taught to value family - which is weird considering the family we came from, it took at least one hundred years for our fathers to finally make peace.

"Half versus quarter. Come with me, but I don't want you getting your ass kicked on my watch, Koga."

"Tch. You don't need to pretend to be the responsible adult, I've gotten you out of your own fair share of scrapes, you know Haku!"

"As have I with you, Koga." And with that pointed remark, I dash in the direction the scent appears to be originating from. A well? The well? The well from which my Aunt came? Did someone fall in when attempting to harvest water, not aware that there was none?

"Hello?" I call into the pit, a woman sits at the bottom, her rich chocolate brown hair is obscuring her facial features, but she isn't dressed like one of our time would; her skirt is too short and intricate in pattern. Has someone passed through the well again?

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