Interlude- Kitsu Toki

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Hey guys! Yes, I'm not dead. I know, how shocking. Joking aside though, I'm really sorry it's been so long since I last updated, but life hit me hard and I haven't found the time (or inspiration) to update this story. I thought about giving it up, but I couldn't just leave you guys. I have to warn you all that updates will still be irregular, but I've hardened my resolve and I do plan to update. Thank you all so much for not giving up on me! It really means a lot.

This chapter is dedicated to AsunaXI for staying on my back about updating, never failing to reassure me that she indeed does not think this book is trash XD Thanks for being such an amazing friend!

Trigger Warning: mentions of suicide, death, and torture.

Toki was a monster.

Or, at least, that's what the villagers called her. With her unique, blood-red eyes, Toki had managed to set herself apart from the rest of her small clan. Not to mention it signified a terrifying Kekkei Genkai that only the founder of their clan once had.

So, they hated her for it.

They spat at her.

She endured.

They refused to serve her.

She endured.

They threw rocks at her.

She endured.

They beat her.

She. Endured.

Now, Toki was no saint. She had plenty of patience (or so she thought), but getting this kind of treatment from the villagers really damages a young, impressionable child. She attempted to endure it (really she had!), but she found herself reacting to the abuse.

Violently.

After killing two villagers herself, she had successfully reassured all thoughts of her being a heartless monster, and she had become the village pariah.

She hated them for whom they made her become.

She hated. Them.

She longed for the day that she could leave this stupid village (and maybe even get some revenge on the side), and she would have.

If not for her father, of course.

Toki loved her father.

Toshiro was her sun. He was the light amidst all the darkness. He took care of her even when even when people began to hate him. He loved her even when no one else would. Even after she had killed two of his clansmen, he loved her.

She found solace in his loving embrace and sunny smiles.

He kept his smile.

Even when the villagers spat at him.

He kept it.

Even when the villagers refused to serve him.

He kept it.

Even when the villagers threw rocks at him.

He kept it.

Even when the villagers beat him.

He kept. It.

Her father had not only endured, but kept a smile on his face all the while. For her.

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