The first encounter with death that left a large scar on my memory happened when I was merely eight years old.
However, the most haunting aspect of that fateful day was the realization that I was utterly defenceless.
The day went like any other, my family spending time together. As we always did.
Allow me to show you...
We sat around a weathered wooden table, in the cosy kitchen area of the connected living room and kitchen.
"Mommy, Daddy, look at my drawing!" I eagerly exclaimed, presenting my artwork, a drawing of our family.
My mother's eyes lit up, a smile gracing her face as she stared at my drawing.
Meanwhile, my father scoffed at the sight, remarking, "Is that what you call a drawing?"
"What? You think you can do better?" I retorted, a playful smile on my face.
"You don't know until you see it," he replied, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
Challenged by his response, I eagerly stated, "Then let's have a contest to see who can create the better drawing!"
"Alright, you two. This will be the ultimate test to determine who's the best," my mother declared, her gaze shifting between us.
With a blue pencil clutched in my left hand and a red pencil firmly held in my father's right hand, we prepared for the artistic showdown.
"On your marks, get set, GO!!!" my mother's voice resonated through the room, igniting the creative frenzy within us.
Without delay, we both began scribbling on our sheets of paper as my mother laughed at how the both of us were so serious about the drawing.
"Aaaaaaaand, I'm done!" I proclaimed triumphantly, slamming my pencil onto the table.
"Ah, ah, ah. Remember, quality over speed," my father teased, his competitive spirit evident.
"What if you can have quality and—"
In an instant, three urgent knocks rapped against the front door, severing the flow of my sentence.
All three of us instinctively shifted our gaze toward the door. And with that, a sinking feeling came to my stomach.
My mother glanced at my father, her expression puzzled. "Huh? Are we expecting anyone today?" she asked, her attention then returning to the door.
"No..." My father's response was accompanied by a furrowed brow, his eyes fixed on the door. "I'll answer the door, you two stay here..." His tone held a note of caution.
"Alright?" My mother's voice conveyed her confusion at his unusual behavior.
"Please! Help!" The loud voice from outside carried an edge of desperation.
My father approached the front door with measured steps, his posture tense.
"Mom, my stomach hurts," I interjected, holding my abdomen with both hands. Despite my discomfort, my voice maintained its usual vibrant tone.
"You're probably just hungry. I'll make you some food! What would you like?" My mother's response was accompanied by a fond smile.
"Steak!" I answered, my enthusiasm undiminished.
"Why do I even ask at this point?" My mother chuckled softly. "I'll get it started once your father's done. Why don't you continue drawing?"
"Alright, Mom," I agreed, picking up a pencil once more.
Meanwhile, my father faced the front door with a stance that exuded caution. Peering through the peephole, he spotted a man standing on the other side.
"P-Please help me! Someone's chasing me!" The urgent plea echoed through the door once again.
"Huh?" My father's confusion morphed into a more composed demeanour. He opened the door, his gaze locking onto the distressed stranger.
"Someone's chasing you?"
"Yes! This is the first house I saw! Please help me!" The stranger's words tumbled out with a sense of desperation and urgency.
I paused my drawing, intrigued by the unfolding scene. My view was somewhat obstructed, limited to my father's back and the mysterious mans face.
The man's face bore signs of fear, yet an unsettling calmness also lurked beneath the surface.
"Where are—?" My father's voice trailed off suddenly, his sentence hanging in the air like a dissonant note.
His body contorted, bending as if responding to some unseen force. His eyes traveled downward and then back up, locking onto the man before him.
"What's—" My father's voice wavered, thinning to a brittle whisper.
Slowly, hesitantly, he began to retreat, stumbling back as his hands clutched at his abdomen. His body rotated, revealing his pale face to us.
"Run..." His voice quivered, barely audible over the backdrop of palpable dread. Blood slipped through his trembling fingers, staining them and his clothes.
In the pregnant stillness, we all stood suspended, locked in a tableau of horror. Then, in a sudden burst of violent motion, the scene unraveled. My mother's scream shattered the silence, filling the room with a chilling wail, even as my father's form crumpled to the ground.
And there, within the grim theatre of our living room, the intruder's grin widened, a grotesque mask of satisfaction. In his hand, he clutched a knife, painted with my father's blood.
"(Y/N), run to the back door," my mother's voice was a hushed command, her gaze still locked onto my father's lifeless body.
I hesitated, confusion and fear knotting my thoughts. I looked between my mother, my fathers body and the killer.
"I said run to the backdoor now!" Her urgency pierced through, shattering my indecision.
Nodding quickly, I snatched my drawing and sprinted toward the back of the house.
"Where do you think you're going!"
I glanced back, seeing the man running at me, his intent clear in the glint of the knife he held, poised for a strike.
Panic surged, freezing me in place, my heart pounding in my throat. Instinctively, I raised my arms in defense and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the strike.
Then, suddenly, the footsteps halted, the anticipated blow never landing.
"(Y/N), run..."
My eyes flickered open, revealing a horrifying tableau. The knife was buried in my mother's abdomen.
"No... No...." The words fell from my lips in disbelief.
"Run, (Y/N)... Your safety is all that matters now..." my mother's voice, fading but filled with love, reached my ears.
"Your mother told you to run, (Y/N)," the killer taunted, a cruel satisfaction coloring his words.
Driven by terror and grief, I spun around, dashing for the door, the weight of my loss and my mother's final plea propelling me.
"No witnesses!" the man shouted.
The man was closing in, his sinister grin mocking my desperation.
Then, in a surge of pure instinct, I threw my shoulder against the door, crashing through it with a force I didn't know I possessed. The door crashed down, and I fell with it, the impact sending shockwaves through me.
"Now I've got you!" The killer's shout was a mix of triumph and malice, his intent clear.
Turning onto my back, I summoned every ounce of strength, desperation, and terror. My legs lashed out, connecting with the man's chest and launching him backward into the house.
I scrambled up, fuelled by the need to survive, to escape the clutches of this deranged monster. Bursting out of the house, I stumbled into the frigid snow-covered woods.
One last glance back revealed the killer sprawled on the ground, laughing, a chilling and grotesque sound that echoed in my ears as I fled.
A laugh that would haunt me for the rest of my days.
I focused my gaze ahead, pushing myself to quicken my pace before the monster could close in.
I kept running, covering miles upon miles.
My legs felt as though they could give out any second.
And my intuition proved right. Collapsing to the ground, I lost sensation in my limbs. Immobile and drained, my mind was a blank canvas, devoid of thoughts, overwhelmed by exhaustion.
Face down, I lay in the snow, surrendering to the impending unconsciousness that beckoned.
Upon regaining consciousness, I found myself in an unfamiliar environment.
Attempting to shift my head for a better view, I was met with a surge of pain.
The sliding doors of the room I was in glided open, prompting me to hastily shut my eyes.
"So, how's he holding up?" a woman's voice inquired.
"He's stable. Just utterly drained. He should recover within a week. Although, he'll be quite sore for a few days. But he'll be back on his feet soon enough," a male voice, presumably a doctor, responded. "Alright then, I'll take my leave. Ensure he's provided with ample food and water."
"Thank you," the woman replied.
The doors opened once more, then softly closed.
"How are you feeling?" The woman's voice reached me.
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
"How did you know I was awake?" I inquired.
"A mother always senses these things," she replied, her voice gentle, accompanied by a warm smile.
"Where am I?" I queried.
"You're in my house. My husband and son found you unconscious in the woods. Thankfully, they stumbled upon you; otherwise, you might not have made it," she explained. "But how are you feeling now?"
"It hurts," I responded, keeping it simple.
"The doctor assured that you'll recover soon," she assured me.
"I need to go somewhere," I asserted.
"Well, I'll take you there once you're healed," she offered, her smile unwavering.
"No, I need to go immediately," I insisted.
"Sorry, but you won't be leaving until you're completely well," her smile faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "By the way, what's your name?"
"(Y/N) Ackerman," I answered quietly.
"I'm Kie Kamado. So, where is your family?" she inquired.
My gaze fixed ahead, eyes turning distant as a rush of recent events flooded my mind.
Tears welled in my eyes, my lips sealed, the events replaying incessantly until Kie Kamado's voice drew me back.
"Alright, you don't have to share if you're not ready," she said gently. "If you want, you could become a part of our family."
Uncertainty lingered within me as I looked at her.
Her smile, now reminiscent of my mother's, appeared again.
"As I said, a mother always knows... So, I assume you have nowhere else to go," Mrs Kamado stated.
I remained silent.
"Then it's settled. You're welcome to stay with me and my family," she declared.
"Okay," I responded with a lack of better words.
"Well, it's time for you to meet my family," She stated.
"Okay," I responded before attempting to rise, only to be gently restrained.
"I know you heard the doctor. The doctor said you need rest," She advised, "I'll go get them."
Exiting the room, I stared up at the ceiling.
'Will they accept me?' I mused inwardly.
As the thought flitted through my mind, the doors swung open once more.
"Remember, be gentle. He's still recovering," Mrs. Kamado cautioned.
"Yea, yea, we get it, don't we, kids?" came the gentle voice of a man, trailed by a chorus of enthusiastic, "Yea!" from two children.
Footsteps drew near, and then everyone settled down.
"Let me begin. I am Tanjuro Kamado. Kie's husband," he introduced in a soothing tone that was inexplicably calming.
"I'm Tanjiro Kamado. I'm 8 years old. Nice to meet you, mister," a boy, just about my age, spoke up.
'Why's he calling me Mister? We're the same age...' I pondered.
"I'm Kamado Nezuko. I'm 7 years old," a girl's voice chimed, slightly hidden behind her older brother.
"This is Takeo. He's 5 years old," Mrs. Kamado indicated towards the small boy in her arms.
'Can he speak? At 5, he should be able to talk, or at least say his name.'
"This is Hanako and Shigeru, twins. They're 2 months old," Mr. Kamado introduced, indicating towards the baby girl in his arms and the baby boy in Kie's arms.
"Nice to meet you all... I'm (Y/N) Ackerman... I'm 8," I stated, my tone somewhat blank.
"Ah, the same age as Tanjiro. You two might become great friends," Mrs. Kamado suggested.
"Yes!" Tanjiro exclaimed with enthusiasm.
"Perhaps," I replied, my tone still detached.
"(Y/N)," Mr. Kamado's voice reached me.
"Yes, Mr. Kamado," I replied.
"Please, just call me Tanjuro. Anyway, please share with us something about yourself," he said in a calm tone.
"Alright... well... I love my parents... and I also like to draw..." I answered.
"Earlier you hesitated to talk about your parents. Would you be willing to let us know where they are?" Mrs. Kamado inquired gently.
I summoned the last remnants of my energy to reach into my left pocket. Slowly, I withdrew the drawing I had made earlier.
There were traces of blood staining the paper.
"Here," I showed them the piece of paper.
Mrs. Kamado covered her mouth in shock, and Mr. Kamado simply looked down, shaking his head.
"Let's shift the conversation a bit. (Y/N), what's your favourite food?" Mrs. Kamado asked, her voice quivering a little.
"It's steak."
"A good choice," Mr. Kamado said, managing a somewhat strained smile.
A few suspended moments of awkward silence hung in the air...
"I just need to return home to get something," I spoke up, shattering the silence while attempting to sit up again.
This time, I managed to succeed without as much pain as I had anticipated.
"(Y/N), I am truly sorry for your loss. However, I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to leave this room until you're fully recovered. Moreover, the danger could still be present," Mrs. Kamado's voice resonated with concern.
"No, please. I must go. It's the single most important thing left to me in this world. Please," I implored, my emotional restraint on the verge of shattering.
"I understand your urgency, (Y/N), but your safety comes first," Mrs. Kamado reiterated gently.
Those words were the final straw. I buried my face in my hands and began to sob uncontrollably.
Suddenly, a pair of arms enveloped me in a soothing embrace.
Raising my gaze, I saw Mrs. Kamado by my side.
"Just let it all out. We're here for you," she whispered in a soft tone.
More arms wrapped around me, and I realized it was Mr. Kamado. Then Tanjiro joined in, followed by Nezuko and Takeo. Even Hanako, and Shigeru contributed to the consoling embrace.
In that moment, I let go of all the pent-up emotions. When my parents had initially passed away, I couldn't cry. But now, within the security of their caring arms, I felt safe enough to release everything that had been bottled up since I fled my home.
However, little did I know, this would mark the last time I'd openly display my emotions for quite a while.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had been living with the Kamado family for a span of five years.
Once my recovery was complete, Mr. Kamado accompanied me to my old house to retrieve my belongings.
Tears welled up again as I caught sight of the bloodstains on the floor; the bodies had been removed, presumably an attempt to conceal the crime. However, the perpetrator hadn't done a thorough job.
The only reason I had wished to return was to retrieve something specific - a cape, green in color, adorned with a prominent symbol on the back: white and blue wings.
This cape had belonged to my mother. She had explained that the wings symbolized freedom, drawing parallels with birds who soared freely. It was the kind of freedom humans yearned for, the sort I hold dear every day of my life.
Over the years, the Kamado family welcomed another addition: Rokuta Kamado, born three years after my arrival.
Then, two years later, Mr. Kamado passed away.
A single tear escaped from my eyes during his burial, though it wasn't a torrent of emotions.
Subsequent to these events, not much happened, which brings us to the present, approximately a year later.
"(Y/N)...!"
That is my story...
"... (Y/N)!"
"(Y/N)!" Tanjiro's voice echoed.
"Oh, my apologies... I must have drifted into my thoughts," I responded.
"No need to apologize, but we're nearly finished."
'What were we doing again?' Gazing ahead, I noticed Tanjiro was in the process of making charcoal.
'Ah, yes. That.'
Tanjiro and I descend the mountain occasionally to vend charcoal to the villagers residing at the foot of the slope.
Charcoal trading has been a generational livelihood for the Kamado family, and Tanjiro and I are simply carrying on this heritage.
"All done!" Tanjiro proclaimed joyfully, turning to me with a smile. "Now, let's head back."
We hoisted baskets laden with charcoal onto our backs before departing the hut, heading towards the small hut we lived in. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was home.
"We have to say bye first, right?" Tanjiro inquired.
"Yes," I concurred, my response swift.
Walking through the snow, we spotted Kie exiting the hut. Her smile lit up as she saw us ready for our descent down the mountain.
"Tanjiro, (Y/N), could you come over here for a moment?"
We obliged, pausing before her. With a cloth in hand, she gently wiped the soot from Tanjiro's and my face.
"Thanks, Mom!" Tanjiro beamed.
"Thank you," I acknowledged with a slight bow.
"No need to bow, (Y/N)."
"Understood."
"Are you both certain about heading down the mountain today? The weather is quite adverse," Kie voiced her concern, her expression marked by worry.
"We're good, Mom!" Tanjiro reassured with enthusiasm, "I want everyone to have a hearty meal on New Year's, so we're aiming to sell as much charcoal as we can."
"Besides, it's our first New Year without Mr Kamado," I added, my tone remaining blank.
Just as Kie was about to respond, Hanako and Shigeru dashed over, followed by Takeo at a more leisurely pace.
"Tanjiro, (Y/N)!" The twins chorused in unison.
Shigeru enveloped Tanjiro in a hug, while Hanako did the same with me.
"Hanako, Shigeru, we won't be gone for too long. We'll return before nightfall," Tanjiro reassured them, looking down at Shigeru.
Since the loss of their father, the twins had clung to Tanjiro and I. Shigeru favoured Tanjiro's company, while Hanako in mine.
"We're tagging along with you!" Hanako insisted, pouting as she looked up at me.
"Absolutely not," Kie stated in a gentle, yet firm tone.
I gazed down at Hanako, her pout persistent even in the face of her mother's refusal. Gently, I nudged her back a bit before kneeling down to meet her eyes.
"When the weather gets better, you can come down the mountain with us," I assured her, my expression neutral.
"Pinky promise" Hanako's raised her right hand, her pinky finger sticking out.
"Pinky promise," I lifted my right hand, pinky finger extended, a customary gesture of promise. Our pinky fingers connected, and we shook on it.
A smile graced Hanako's lips.
"I read in a book that whoever breaks a pinky promise has to cut off their pinky," Hanako quipped.
"Neither of us will have to do that," I replied.
"What about meeee!?" Shigeru chimed in, wanting his share of attention.
Tanjiro's smile widened as he knelt down to Shigeru's level.
"How about this? Once we're back, I'll read a story for the two of you?" Tanjiro proposed.
The children cheered with joy, and as another boy joined the scene, Tanjiro and (Y/N) rose to their feet.
"Oh, Takeo!" Tanjiro called out, spotting the newcomer.
"Huh?" Takeo halted, balancing his hatchet on his shoulder.
"Please chop as much wood as you can," Tanjiro requested with a broad smile.
"I'll do it but..." Takeo turned slightly, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, "I was hoping we could do it together..."
Tanjiro's grin only grew as he approached his brother.
Gently patting his head, Tanjiro cooed, "There there," his voice a tender murmur.
Takeo pulled away suddenly, exclaiming, "What's wrong with you!?" He swatted Tanjiro's hand away.
"You're blushing!" Shigeru pointed out, giggling.
"Shut up!" Takeo retorted, his face reddening further, while Tanjiro's laughter filled the air.
As Takeo continued his protests, I stepped closer, also patting his head. "It'll be alright," I offered in a monotone voice.
"Hey!" Takeo exclaimed again, swatting my hand away.
The children joined in the laughter, but, it was time for Tanjiro and I to depart.
"See you later!" Shigeru called out, waving.
"Remember our promise!" Hanako shouted.
"I won't forget," I reassured them in a voice just loud enough to reach their ears.
As Tanjiro and I continued our walk, we spotted Nezuko with Rokuta sleeping soundly on her back.
"Tanjiro, (Y/N)," Nezuko greeted us in a soft voice.
"Nezuko," Tanjiro replied, his smile brightening at the sight of his sister.
"I was putting Rokuta down for a nap. I didn't want him causing a fuss as you two left," Nezuko explained.
Tanjiro gently stroked Rokuta's head as Nezuko carried on.
"He really misses Father. I suppose he sees you two as a bit of a replacement."
"I suppose," Tanjiro murmured, his hand still soothingly on Rokuta's head.
"Tanjiro, not to interrupt, but if we want to get back in time, we need to start moving," I interjected.
"You're right," Tanjiro agreed, "Goodbye, Nezuko. We'll see you later."
"Goodbye, both of you," Nezuko replied with a smile, and she continued on her way towards the hut.
Tanjiro and I walked in silence for a few minutes until we reached the base of the mountain.
"Are you prepared, (Y/N)?" Tanjiro inquired as we stood together just at the outskirts of the village.
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Yo! If you're reading this then that means you're here for the rewrite! I'm rewriting all the chapters, changing the phrasing on some things. Changing up the story a little piece! I didn't like some aspects so that's why I'm doing this! Mostly to change Sophia, (now named) Sayuri's character.
Thank you all for the continued support on this book even when I took a whole month break. I've been a busy boy, but don't worry I will be coming back for a little while now before I depart once again!
See you guys in the next chapter!