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𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The Demon Slayer Corps. Where to begin with such a mystery? It's nowhere, as well as everywhere. Recruiting and losing soldiers every minute, every second. Under the leadership of the Ubyashiki family since ancient times. Defeating one demon after another.

Sometimes it occurs like deja vu. It would feel like you've slain a certain demon before, but you know you haven't. They creep everywhere. In towns, cities, homes, dreams. Infecting everything they touched like a plague.

They feast on the weak to make themselves stronger. Resentment apart of the package once you figure out they exist. But, beware, because once you do, there is no turning back.

It's a life sentence of swinging a blade until you get eaten by the pressure.
Or retire.
But that is unlikely for any rank that is not a pillar.

A lovely life I have caught myself in, or, more like forced into. That isn't to say there aren't good parts. I was lucky enough to be found by my mentor, Kanroji Mitsuri, the love pillar of this fine establishment. She trained me to be strong.

I never had a sibling. It was my mother, father, and me in a quiet village that I miss dearly.

There isn't a day that goes by without my thoughts being consumed by swirling memories. Some things my brain likes to make up, and others are real. I can't tell the difference anymore. Too much time has passed since then.

Right.
No sibling.
Kanroji was like an older sister to me. She finished raising me into a proper adolescent, though I still have ways to go, she wishes to wash my mouth with soap sometimes. It's not my fault those demons have such bastard faces.

I shouldn't be thinking about such things while fighting, should I?

Oh well, it wasn't much of a fight anyway.

"Third form: Stem of Thorns." The words whisked away under my breath as my lungs filled with sweet air. Using plant breathing forms was like smelling the air of the morning after it rained. The plants were coated with raindrops, and the mist after the sun came out.

Oh, how I loved the mist. It was always such a pretty thing to me. So untouchable, and yet, still right there in front of me. I loved the way it felt against my hand, against my cheeks. The plain idea of mist, how it moves and always changes, intrigued me the most; simultaneously, it comforted me.

Right, the fight.

"Damn you, slayer!" The demon's decapitated head shouted.