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your-lovely-rose · 4 months

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“They’re cute” (Daki, Mukago & Nakime || Request by @cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme)

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mature

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Romance

➥ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭: Fluff || Hurt/Comfort || Dark fic

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ±9.5k || +12.1k || ±15.8k

𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭: 38 min. || 49 min. || 1h

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: (Ume) Daki // (Lower Rank 4) Mukago // (Biwa Demon) Nakime x Human!Reader

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: Kimetsu no Yaiba

⚠ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Minor death (suggested & mentioned), Eating people (mentioned)/dead bodies, Threats, Blood, Severe injuries on the body (not Reader), Misogyny, Desecration of a human corpse, Larvae and flies, Blood, Falling into madness, Mental problems, Muzan's goal (Spoiler for: Episode 34/Chapter 67), Presented the character's past (from "Kimetsu no Yaiba Official Fanbook: Kisatsutai Kenbunroku 2"), Forbidden Love/Mutual Pining || NOT EDITED

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Before each story, I have included words that may cause readers difficulty. I tried to explain them in text, but if after reading something is still unclear then look there. I hope I've done good research and haven't misunderstood anything - if you have more knowledge on the subject, please correct me.

➵ “They’re cute” Part 2/2 (Nakime)

> (Ume) Daki Masterlist

> Mukago Masterlist

➻ Little dictionary:

Yūjo (遊女, lit. "Woman of pleasure") - common prostitutes, they could be found in brothels (hamirase).

Harimise (張見) - a kind of brothel, where sex workers lined up behind bars around 6 p.m. to attract potential customers.

Oiran (花魁, lit. "Leading flower" or "First flower", comes from the Japanese phrase: Oira no tokoro no nēsan (おいらの所の姉さん) which translates into "My elder sister") - is a collective term for the highest-ranking courtesans/prostitutes in Japanese. Unlike yūjo, in addition to their sexual services, they were artists and were expected to provide entertainment. They were highly skilled in the playing koto, shakuhachi, tsuzumi and shamisen (traditional Japanese instruments), igo (traditional Japanese board game), dance and poetry. They also had to learn from an early age classic Japanese, calligraphy, flower arranging (ikebana or kadō) and the tea ceremony (chadō). In addition, clients expected them to be knowledgeable in scholarly matters, and so it was essential that courtesans had the abilities to carry witty and intelligent conversation and write eloquently. Their art and fashions often set trends among the wealthy and, because of this, cultural aspects of oiran traditions continue to be preserved to this day.

Oiran dōchū (花魁道中, おいらん道中) - the impressive procession with which the oiran moved, surrounded by all the entourage and servants from their seirō. Example of oiran dōchū.

Maiko (舞妓) - is a young apprentice geisha in Kyoto. The equivalent of maiko in Tokyo is hangyoku.

Okāsan (お母さん, lit. "Mother") - that's how the courtesans called the owners of the brothels.

Seirō (青楼, "Green Houses") - refers to the yūkaku licensed pleasure quarters - specifically Yoshiwara. The place where they lived. The term seirō originated in Chinese to denote a pavilion in which a nobleman kept a mistress.

Chaya (茶屋, "Tea house") - oiran place to meet clients and work. To call an oiran, the customer must use a tea house as a mediator, but not just only ask the tea house, they had to spend a lot of money there beforehand. They had to prove that they had enough money and power to play with the oiran. Then, they had the right to call for an oiran.

Kanzashi (簪) - are hair ornaments used in traditional Japanese hairstyles. The term kanzashi refers to a wide variety of accessories, including long, rigid hairpins, barrettes, fabric flowers and fabric hair ties. // Hana-kanzashi - are ornaments usually in the shape of flowers worn by maiko. Each month is assigned a different theme.

Kusudama (薬玉) - spherical ornament made of, among others, artificial flowers or paper (e.g. origami method). Sometimes long colored ribbons or threads are attached to it from the bottom. In ancient Japan, a kusudama was a bag filled with scented substances designed to scare away evil spirits and demons, mainly during the annual "Children's Festival" (Tango no Sekku or Ayame no Hi (Iris Festival)) on May 5. Today, this decoration is used during various ceremonies, such as the opening of a new store or restaurant. Sometimes it serves as a gift. Kusudamas is considered a precursor of modular origami.

Futon (布団) - traditional japanese bedding. It consists of a mattress (shiki-buton) and a duvet (kake-buton). Futons after taking out for the night from the wall cabinet (oshiire) are laid on tatami. After they are rolled up and put in the wardrobe in the morning, you gain free space in the room for the day, which can be used for other purposes.

Tatami (畳) - is a type of mat used as a flooring material in traditional Japanese-style rooms. Because of the fact that they aren't cleaned, you cannot step on them with shoes/dirty feet.

Shōji (障子, しょうじ) - is a door, window or room divider used in traditional Japanese architecture, consisting of translucent (or transparent) sheets on a lattice frame. Shōji usually slide, but may occasionally be hung or hinged, especially in more rustic styles.

Kimono (着物, きもの, lit. "thing to wear") - is a traditional Japanese garment. The kimono is a wrapped-front garment with square sleeves and a rectangular body, and is worn left side wrapped over right, unless the wearer is deceased. Oiran wore multiple layers of silk kimono and her outfit sometimes weighed 20-30 kg (44-66 lb).

Genre: Romance || Fluff

Word count and reading time: ±9.5k (38 min.)

⚠ Warnings for this part of the request: Minor death (suggested), Eating people (mentioned), Threats, Misogyny, Forbidden Love/Mutual Pining,

Numerous lantern lights illuminated the streets of Yoshiwara revealing to many people a new face of Tokyo - which, because of their bright red color, was often called the Red Light District.

For some, it might have been associated with big, ripe fruit on the trees or the sunset after a beautiful day, but for you, it was associated with a woman’s red lipstick.

In the air there was a strong smell of various dishes and spices that could make you dizzy, as well as brewed green tea from chaya. The night was filled with the sounds of shamisen played by geisha for their audience in okiya, where all sorts of people gathered to rest with their charms, watching them dance, but you didn’t count among them.

Walking down a street full of harimise - brothels with a view inside through the bars, where a lots of prostitutes yūjo were sitting and urging you to visit them by their beautiful looks - and some shops, your eye hung on the colorful paper windmills and various richly decorated hair ornaments exhibited at the stalls.

Since it was still February you could mostly see the hana-kanzashi depicting plum blossoms for maiko. They were meant to remind us of the imminent arrival of spring and were replaced in March into bright yellow flowers of rapeseed and daffodil, pink peonies and peach flowers, as well as multicolored, delightful butterflies, when their true counterparts bloomed on the trees.

All the ornaments were shimmered from the metals they were made of. From gold and silver for the nobles, and brass for the common people. There were kanzashi with one spool, two; in the shape of combs, and many of them had red-pink petals attached to them. From a distance, they looked so real and fragile.

There were also those with white kusudama balls in different origami patterns giving off a strong, floral scent of perfume. To them below were attached long ribbons and threads blowing freely in the wind.

For a moment, you were wondering if you should buy something for her, but you immediately remembered that you have little more just to meet her.

Besides, she had much nicer ornaments and none of them matched her beauty. She was like a rare flower.

And she’s not a child anymore, she would probably laugh at a cheap toy.

“Are you buying something or..?” asked the fat salesman, looking at you in surprise. He’d never seen anyone who look at a piece of colored paper and a stick with such a dreamful and wide smile on face.

“Um, n-no.”

Getting caught watching toys for too long with embarrassment and a slight blush, you put it back. The man just shook his head with a slight laugh.

“Ah, love!” he said aloud with understanding. “Love… it does strange things to people,” he added after a moment of reflection, turning his back to you and waving his hand, but you didn’t see it because you walked away from his booth in embarrassment.

Love?

Do you love her?

Yes, you enjoyed spending time with her and talking to her, but would you call it love?

At the very thought, your cheeks became warmer and butterflies appeared in your stomach, causing a pleasant tickling in your gut…

After a moment’s reflection, you would admit that you might like her a little more than normal.

But you know you didn’t call it love - or rather, you both wouldn’t admit it. Besides, this relationship would never stand a chance, and it’s not just because of her profession…

When you finally stood in front of the tea house affiliated with Kyogoku House, you checked your clothes to see if they looked good and you smoothed your hair, which was messy by the cool, night wind.

Thinking you looked decent, you walked into the lobby and caught the eye of all the people there. As always, you politely greeted the owner of this place sitting at a low table and two hosts from the aforementioned house, sipping tea together.

You were a little surprised to see them - normally they should be in their house and a lobbygow from the chaya would bring them your request to meet after a short time. Then they would deliver your letter to Warabihime, and she would reply by other messenger boy.

Oiran can’t contact any of their clients directly, nor can they contact her - custom didn’t allow it, so you all had to use lobbygow. It was a long process, but you didn’t regret any moment or a coin spent on it.

Also, you couldn’t meet her whenever you wanted - you had to first ask her permission (in a letter) and wait for her answer. She could always disagree. It was the oiran, who decided if they wanted to take the client, not you or anybody else.

But she’s never said no to you. And the attitude of the hosts to you after a short time from satisfaction turned into concern.

Regardless of that, with a polite smile and a bow, holding a letter asking for a meeting in both hands, you handed it to them.

So far, you’ve been her longest-lived client… and her only one - after a few meetings with you, she started automatically refusing other people who wanted to see her.

The host’s wife, a woman named Omitsu, more than once felt anxious going to the demon’s room to deliver a handful of letters, all of which would soon end up shattered on tatami.

She looked at her with irritation written on her face as if she were a disgusting insect and tilted her head slightly to the right in her characteristic manner.

It never bode well…

- - -

When Daki’s patience ran out, she threatened Omitsu, that the next thing she’d tear apart would be her guts, if she brought more letters not from you.

What happened between the two of you during those meetings? Did you put a spell on her? Or is she the one who has some evil plans for you? The owner of Kyogoku House didn’t know and was becoming more and more disturbed about it.

Not feeling right under constant stress, she ordered one of the newly arrived girls to carry the long-awaited letter from you, and the other to massage her shoulders. Warabihime only made her still worry and added her gray hair.

“I will do it, Okāsan,” offered Hinatsuru, because she was nearby and the other workers were too scared.

With a kind smile on her painted lips, she took the letter and went upstairs to the woman’s room, feeling the grateful gaze of the rest of the girls on her back. She could hear their whispers full of concern and questions like: “Will she be okay?”

She saw that something was up - she had been here for a while and had been keeping a close eye on all the Kyogoku House employees. So far, there’s nothing she could do except to not accidentally alert demon about her.

As she walked slowly through the corridors, she read the sender’s name and memorized it so she could tell Tengen if anything happened - the main Oiran was her most likely target, and it is necessary to gather as much information as possible to fight the enemy.

Who were you? One of the demons? A man helping her keep up appearances? Or did you know nothing about her true nature? Can a demon love? Was she really a demon? Or maybe a hunch confounded her?

But even she felt the terror beating from this room and the creature hiding in it. As she approached, she felt like a prey going to a predator for slaughter.

Even the most beautiful purebred cat won’t deny its nature and stop hunting mice.

She knocked and waited for a moment for an answer. Inside, she saw the beautiful Warabihime sitting by the mirror, whom she had already seen several times strolling down the hallway or looking at her from the balcony - she watched as she went with the whole long retinue of dōchū to the tea house to meet her client.

[Frist Name] [Last Name].

She always walked with her head held high and proud, as if everything around her belonged to her. Probably her position allowed her to do a lot, but in the same way, being an oiran meant limitations. Pretending to be human, too.

For Hinatsuru, one small evidence was enough. Any proof. Just enough not to report to Lord Tengen only her unconfirmed hunches.

She wished, she knew how the work for Suma and Makio was going. Maybe if she had better contact with them, she could figure something out. But if the demon noticed or suspected something, they could easily die.

Without even looking at her, Warabihime asked what she wanted while was correcting a red lipstick applied to her lower lip with her little finger. She looked perfect, just like a porcelain doll or a moon goddess. Pale skin untainted by any scar reflected the light of candles giving her a phenomenal appearance - even in incomplete makeup and without ornaments in the hair no one could deny her beauty.

“Okāsan told me to bring you this.”

Hinatsuru pulled a letter from the purple-white kimono hidden in her sleeve and waved it lightly in the air.

She saw the woman suddenly stop in her activity and focus her gaze in reflection on the rolled paper.

“Put it on the table and leave.”

She tried to pretend not to be very interested, but as soon as the paper door shōji closed behind the new oiran, Daki was next to the letter in a second. The rush of air dropped several layers of kimono, ruining the outfit she had just worn, but she didn’t care. Up close, your scent was even more intense, filling her lungs. It was like an aphrodisiac to her.

“Why are you so excited?” Gyutaro asked, scratching his cheek and standing over his younger sister.

He stared on her with letter in hand with a deep frown on his face, not understanding her. He recognized your handwriting, and while it was clear that you were trying to write nicely, it didn’t hide your unskilled hand and your lack of talent for calligraphy.

He had felt a change in the girl for some time and could see how she reacted to the very mention about [Last Name].

When other women even mentioned your name, she’d instinctively keep an ear out to catch as much of the conversation as possible or she’d stand nearby to listen for a while, although when he asked, she’d always deny it.

He wasn’t sure whether he should be happy she found a new toy or worry more. Ever since she started meeting you, she’s become… softer.

Messy.

Defenceless.

He would even dare to say dreamy. Her thoughts wandered unconsciously all the time and were always focused only on you. You were the culmination of her every thought. What did you do? How did you feel? Have you had a rough day? Are you going to meet her today? Is… is there anyone else?

She was no longer thinking about her previous priorities or gaining strength. It began to irritate him and frustrate him. So much, so that to get away from her thoughts of you, he began to leave her body more often. He couldn’t bear to see your smiling face engraved on her mind like a burn scar.

Daki, unaware of how great his dislike for you was, only turned her head to her brother, looking at him with joy hidden in green irises and a broad, but sincere and kind smile - he asked nothing more.

• • •

Did you know her brother? Yes, although at first he was a passive observer through Daki’s eyes for most of your meetings.

Personally, he thought his sister deserved someone better, 'cause you were really average-looking. He wouldn’t say you were ugly like him or above average beautiful like one person with colorful, rainbow eyes…

But he’d still judge you as a mediocre, who doesn’t stand out in the crowd. You were just average. Ordinary. If he walked past you, it’s very likely he wouldn’t normally noticed or pay attention to you.

That’s why he wasn’t annoyed by your looks, but he was jealous of your talk. You talked freely to his sister and often made her laugh. You’ve probably misled more than one girl with that kind of talk.

The thought provoked an anger that even Daki felt. She silenced him in her thoughts and tried to pretend that everything was all right, but she felt under her skin how her brother’s emotions filled her and how they crawled under her skin like little worms spreading all over her body. His anger was like an unquenchable fire, and he made her feel hot. Soon after, she felt the sweat run down her exposed neck and asked you to open the window.

The cool air from the streets of Yoshiwara was like a deliverance to her, though it didn’t put out the fire inside. She didn’t understand him. Where did this anger suddenly come from in him?

To calm him, she grabbed her hand and squeezed the garment more tightly with the other. That didn’t help. She could barely contain her own trembling and keep a cheerful smile on her face, although she was also beginning to get angry.

But her anger wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at him.

Oh, how much she’d want him to sleep through that meeting with you, like he used to.

Fearing that something would happen to you, she ended the meeting sooner than she wanted and slowly returned to Kyogoku House. People watched her colourful procession of many, both male and female employees from her seirō, but she was the only one who stole everyone’s attention - she was like a diamond. Beautiful flower among weeds and grasses. Although she usually liked the attention she received, today it was unbearably annoying to her.

Her perfectly smooth forehead was flawed by the folds created by her tightly furrowed thin eyebrows.

She tried not to step out of her role and moved with a slow dance step towards her present place of residence, although she could easily get there within seconds even on her black high-soled geta.

After she returned to her seirō and locked in her room, they even quarreled over it all. Very seriously and rough. Although it took place without much damage to the furniture, several other girls said they heard an unknown male voice from her room. Some thought it was just her throat torn from Warabihime’s (no one knew her name except her brother and later you too) screams and it was still her voice, other say that she was insane or possessed by evil spirits.

To avoid do something he might regret later, Gyutaro went outside while the night was still young.

He wandered through side and dark streets killing drunks and couples, looking for some privacy to pick on them and release the accumulated negative emotions, but nothing could improve his mood.

Anger flowed through his veins under his skin, triggering an increasingly strong desire to scratch himself, and he gave in to it (not that he resisted much). He do it so hard that blood started dripping down his forehead and clavicle - he didn’t care about it because he’d regenerate in no time.

Then among the sounds of people walking in the streets, the roar of machines, and the sound of his rough skin torn by his black fingernails, he heard your voice. He looked out of the alley with curiosity and saw you walking in the company of a black-haired man.

You talked to him about something gesticulating vigorously, although the conversation itself didn’t interest him. Seeing your movements and hearing the annoying voice, an idea popped into his head - if you give him reason by which you could make his sister sad, he’ll kill you.

The thought brought a wide, menacing smile to his face, revealing sharp teeth and capable of shivering the body of more than one experienced Demon Slayer.

He knew Daki would be angry, but you were the reason for their argument and his sour mood right now. He felt like with your disappearance, so would his current problems.

The rest of the night he followed you jumping on the rooftops of buildings and listening to what you were talking about - despite his dislike for you, he even laughed a few times at your remarks and comments. He also found out that the man in the brown kimono and tied hair is your close friend Kaito.

• • •

It’s been a few days since he started following you and got to know you better - he already knew how you make a living and what your routine looks like. During the day he hid from the sun in a nearby house (whose owners suddenly disappeared under unexplained circumstances) and waited for dark to fall, when he could again follow you like a watchdog.

He didn’t even notice when all the hatred for you burned out inside him like an old bonfire, leaving nothing but smoking residue.

He was no longer actively looking for faults in you, and followed you more out of habit and curiosity. But he still had mixed feelings for you - maybe not as negative as at first.

Although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone (even to himself).

Your friend would show up at your place sometimes with a carriage full of stuff, and sometimes you’d go out with him for drinks at a cheap bar nearby. It was a good opportunity to see what you thought of his sister.

Was she just one of many women for you to play with? Have you been seeing anyone besides her? Did you really respect her? What are you saying about her behind her back?

Thoughts like this popped into his head, but he wasn’t worried about hearing something bad from you about her.

But the words of a drunk are the thoughts of a sober, and with that thought he put his ears to hear you better, when your friend dragged you home. He hasn’t drink to much, because of the experience he’s had with you.

“Ahh, I want to go to Warabihime!” You were whining and trying to get away from your friend. It was a poor attempt, but it was difficult for the demon to judge whether it was alcohol or you were always so weak.

“You’ve been here last time and you don’t have money to meet now. Besides, you have to get permission first,” the black-haired man admonished you, tired of your drunken self.

“No, I wanna now! Let me goooo.”

“If you want to go to prostitutes go to some cheaper yūjo. There are a lot of them in harimise. No one will even know.”

Kaito casually offered knowing the rules of the pleasure district - after all, he used their services not so long time ago.

If oiran chose you as her client after three (very expensive) meetings, during which you tried to convince her that you were worthy of her, you couldn’t use the services of other women. Especially some cheap prostitute or some other oiran - it would be an insult to her, and although you know perfectly well that she would probably never know about it, you couldn’t look her in the face afterwards.

“No, you don’t understand, I can’t. I want to go to Warabihime!”

You still whined like a baby, but no one paid attention. You’ve already moved far away from the Entertainment District. You were surrounded only by low family houses and dark streets lit only by the light of a full moon watching you silently from above. He wasn’t the only one, although the other observer showed more interest, hiding yourself in the shadow.

“Is she really that good?” asked older man without even looking at you and suddenly got hit on the head by you.

The hit wasn’t strong, but it was painful enough that he suddenly let you go and you fell flat to the ground. The scene surprised Gyutaro so much that he stopped breathing, and he might even laugh, if he wasn’t shock of your reaction.

“What was that?!” Kaito asked, screaming in anger.

If it wasn’t for the sake circulating in your veins and spinning in your head, you could see the veins coming out of his forehead and his tightly clenched fists tremble. Your friend hated being insulted. Even as a joke, and now you’re overreacting.

“What was that supposed to be? What’s gotten into you? Are you… A-ah,” he said after a moment understanding and laughed unexpectedly. He didn’t expect that from you. Especially from you.

Yes, he was still angry, but he knew what oiran and other women of her type were like - they said many beautiful words and promised even more just to keep a well-paid client. Their living piggy banks. And you’ve obviously fallen for it more than he thought.

Not long ago he had been dating one, but when the first enchantment had passed he saw how much he had been deceived and trifled. No one has ever humiliated and ridiculed him like that woman had.

To this day, he can still smell her perfume reminiscent of peaches and kept the letters he couldn’t burn. He tried not to get drunk because of you, to walk you home safely, although he would love to do it.

He’d like to keep his mind off the time he was seeing her. To those brightly colored and sunny times with sweet feelings like her lips, and yet… fake.

He would like to forget her unique hair color, looking like the sun and and the deep black of the night at the same time. Throw out a strand of golden curls from her bangs. Forget her loud laugh and her sometimes out of control temperament, which he loved so much. Forget about these light brown eyes, which never looked at him with affection.

Every gesture she made was taught by years of practice, and every sweet word devoid of feeling - she was like an empty porcelain doll, and he found out too late. He always thought she was thinking about someone else, when she was with him.

He learned that she was playing with him by chance, when he heard another drunk man telling about his oiran’s great love for him and showing her letters for proof. Kaito would always recognize the scent of her perfume and her writing style.

However, he hoped it was a mistake and went to Ogimoto House to listen to other women’s gossip. All he had to do was stand by the window and he could have found out everything. The sound of their laughter and mockery directed at him hurt him. Those kind night ladies voices said such bad things about him that he just wanted to curl up and die in shame.

From that day on, he never returned to tea house.

But sometimes he stood near her balcony, when unconsciously his legs led him again towards Ogimoto House, and he would looking with longing and chest pain.

Against his will, he waited for her to see her feisty face with sharp features and small cute nose or silky hair again.

He saw a black crow come to her every now and then, and she’d pick up a letter attached to its leg. She then unfolded the red kimono and hid a piece of paper under it - he could only guess how close it was to her heart and who her lover was…

Sometimes, however, it was she who secretly sent the letter, plunging Kaito even more into dark despair.

Was he angry? Of course, he was. Even mad, but he couldn’t stop loving Makio either.

“All right, it’s fine,” he helped you get up and cleared your clothes. He understood what a wonderful feeling it was to love and be loved, but some of the flowers that grew from the seeds of that love were… poisonous. “Come home and get some sleep.”

Kaito helped you get undressed and put you in a futon. Your grey kimono (not so official, worn only because you didn’t mind destroying or staining it) he cleaned out the sand and dust of the street. The man decided open the window for you, so you could sleep better and the air in the room wouldn’t get stale from your stinking breath.

He was your good friend, but he treated you like you were his younger sibling (although you two were almost the same age). He was also your business partner - he would bring in goods from the far reaches of Japan, and you would sell it on the busy streets.

When Kaito left you had a strange dream - you dreamed that a skinny, grotesque figure stood over you like one of worst nightmares.

His morbidly yellow eyes stared straight at you through a veil of fat, dark green hair, piercing you through like daggers.

Even though you were tucked under a duvet and covered with a blanket to keep you warm, you felt like you were instantly getting cold - probably through an open window (through which the stranger must have entered) illuminating his monstrous face.

He looked like Death or a being closely related to it - did he come for your soul? Maybe he was just a seriously ill homeless man looking for shelter on a cold night?

The stranger was looking at you with a mysterious grin on his face like he wasn’t satisfied with something and was wondering about something at the same time. You felt like a disgusting insect under his judgmental gaze. The man scratched himself on the gray skin on his cheek, causing a rough chill on your back.

Scratch, scratch, scratch echoed across the room when you looked at each other in silence.

For a moment, the thought crossed your drunken mind, that you might be able to fall asleep when your eyelids became too heavy to keep them open, but then the he spoke in a hoarse voice.

“You annoy and irritate me,” his voice was loud in the quiet room like the sound of a bell. “But for some reason I can’t hate you.”

The gray creature leaned over you so that your noses almost touched.

The strands of his bangs tickled your forehead and a piece of loose material hanging around his neck fell on your covered chest. You could smell his bad breath stinking like rotten flesh and blood.

“But if you hurt my sister, I’ll kill you.”

The threatening words sounded like a promise he was determined to keep. Although you had no idea how you’d know his sister.

Still, you picked up something in his voice that made you think he didn’t want to do it. As a trader, you had to be able to read your customers, and that’s why you knew who wanted what, when they were hiding something and when they were honest with you.

That’s why you knew Warabihime was completely honest with you about her behavior, although sometimes she seems to want to show you more than she can. Something keeps her from telling you about her worry, that makes her seem depressed sometimes and she masks it with a gentle smile.

You never asked about that because you didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere and lead to unpleasant situations between you two.

After the man’s words, you were able to sleep. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol circulating in your body or the fear helped you, but when you woke up next day, you almost forgot the night guest. A slight throbbing of your head in the morning and a dry mouth only helped you remember what you were doing early in the evening with Kaito. You remembered the rest when you sat on the futon and saw a huddled figure in the corner of the room.

He squatted with his elbows on his thighs and his fingers touching the floor between his legs. He was so crooked that just looking at him made your back hurt. You didn’t believe he was comfortable like that. You regretted that only piece of his wardrobe was baggy navy trousers and red pieces of fabric loosely tied around his shoulders - seeing his extremely skinny body and morbidly gray-green skin, you had another headache again and you were getting nauseous, which you somehow stopped with a stone face.

The creature looked at you with boredom as if you were an unexpected and even more unwanted guest than the other way around - he didn’t budge or even blink like a grotesque sculpture.

He reminded you of Kaito’s stories of horrible, ugly, stone figures placed on the rooftops of many temples and cathedrals in faraway lands that he’d heard from other people - whether it’s tourists or foreign traders. They called them chimeras or gargoyles, depending on their function.

Was he a product of your mind as a sign to stop drinking?

“Are you finally get up?”

He asked, interrupting the silence and tilting his head slightly in a way familiar to you, but all you could do was nod your head and issue from a clenched throat quietly “Uh”.

You noticed that the window was closed now by wooden shutters and he was sitting under the wall adjacent to it as far away from it as possible.

“Don’t you have work today?”

You swallowed your saliva and nodded your head again. Feeling like an unwanted pest in your own home, you got up and folded the sheets. You put it on the other side of the room (under the window) and moved into the kitchen feeling behind you the watchful gaze of the bulging eyes and the menacing aura of your guest.

You entered the kitchen (the largest room in the house), where you had a low table and a stone stove, but you didn’t use it. An iron kettle for boiling water you set over a small fire. You remember when you dug a hole by yourself and then you covered it with bricks for safety. You liked to use it.

When you looked back, you saw a caricature of a man standing at the entrance to the room, still hidden in the shadows. He watched you from semi closed eyelids with boredom.

Does he have a skin condition? Can the sun hurt him? Is he afraid? Or maybe, like a vampire, you have to invite him?

A distant memory flashed through your head - how, as a little kid, you overheard a conversation among adults about bloodthirsty creatures turning to dust while they were standing in the sunlight. At that time they told you to leave then so as not to scare you, but curiosity was stronger.

Why do you suddenly remember that after all these years?

You shook your head and closed the shutters. To make sure the wind wouldn’t open them, you pulled the metal lock too for safety.

The room was semi-darkness.

Why did you do that?

Just to avoid a worse headache, and he decided to take advantage of it by walking into the kitchen.

Close up, when his position didn’t hide too much from you so you could see how bad he was - appearing rough and sickly skin was marked by numerous black marks, and the abdomen was practically concave. There were also bony hips protruding from behind the his material trousers, and you could describe him as a living skeleton, although he had heavily scratched muscle tissue gathered around his shoulders.

You placed two small clay tea cups on the table (remembering that you still had some medicinal herbs left for a hangover) and caused a mischievous smile on your comrade’s face as if you had done something stupid.

Yet he sat beside you at the table with his legs crossed and watched in silence as you ate a piece of dry meat with buttered bread. You weren’t sure how you were able to swallow when his constant gaze on you made your throat clenched itself. He didn’t even blink.

You paid him back with the same, but you couldn’t stand it for a long time and you started looking into the space above him. When you looked at him, you felt some kind of regret that made you offer him a piece of meat in your hand.

With this you caused him a loud burst of laughter, from which you jumped up in your seat. You amused him so much that he closed his eyelids and covered his mouth full of sharp yellow teeth with one hand, and he started hitting his knee with the other.

You didn’t know what was funny about it, so you just sat in front of him with a disconcerting face and with your hand still out holding a piece of meat pointing at him, but now you felt like an animal who had done a trick.

Gyutaro amused the absurdity of the situation and this irony, as you, a human - practically defenseless against him and unaware of his initial intentions (he still judging you) offer him, the demon, who has killed hundreds of people, a piece of food. If he was hungry, you’d be the first course on his menu.

When he calmed down a little, the broad smile still didn’t come off his face revealing his big teeth and made small wrinkles near his eyes showing how cheerful he was now.

You had a shiver for a moment, but you decided not to show it. If he isn’t a vision of your sleepy mind induced by alcohol, then it was better not to provoke him and didn’t let him know you’re afraid of him.

The stranger, feeling comfortable enough with you, lay down on the floor on his left side and resting his head on his fists, watched your morning routine without moving.

When you went to the other room to pick up some clothes (your house had only three rooms, one of which was a storage room) he just turned his head towards you and again returning to his previous, bored posture.

Even though he wasn’t physically moving, his eyes followed you, tracking your every move.

Then you also had to set up your wooden stall and load the goods on it. Unfortunately, your mare died a few months ago and you had to pull the carriage on wheels to the nearest town. If it weren’t for your expensive encounters with Warabihime, you could probably buy another horse sooner…

Actually, you were planning on taking the day off, but your unexpected visitor made you not want to stay home.

When you came back late in the evening, the only sign of him was the untouched clay cup of cold tea that you put in front of him.

For a moment, you really believed it was just a hallucination, but he came back after a few days.

• • •

You came home again at night after another day’s work in a remote city and he was already waiting for you inside. When you closed the door behind you, cutting yourself off from the sound of crickets in the nearby fields, you heard a quiet, characteristic for him scratch, scratch, scratch carring over a small building. You didn’t have time to escape to the street because he showed up right next to you.

There were several deep wounds on the right side of his face caused by his nervous scratching. Seeing you seemed to upset him even more because his movements got even more intense.

“Ne, ne, where have you been? Why don’t you come to her?”

Completely surprised by his sudden appearance, you took your breath away and all you could do was just stupidly open and close your mouth like a fish pulled out of the water. It was probably the first time, when you didn’t know what to say.

“Daki is impatient. She’s been waiting long enough for you.”

The man said that with a grudge against you. He was mad at you for not trying harder and making his pretty sister angry.

“Who… Who is Daki?”

You only managed to mouthed through a clenched throat as the monster in your kitchen continued to scratch nervously. He paused for a moment, reminding himself that you didn’t know everything yet, so he just said:

“Warabihime.”

Her name made your heart beat a little faster and you started to wonder how much you really know about her? Why did he call her Daki? How much does she have to do with him and who is he?

But before you could ask him anything, he threw you on his shoulder. Afraid he would drop you (or roll over with you), you propped on his bony back, but he had a surprisingly strong grip for someone looking so hungry.

Holding you with one hand, he went out in front of your house, jumped high and landed on the roof of a nearby building. It happened so fast that you only felt a sudden rush of cold air and could see your wooden geta fall down where you were just now.

Surprised and even more frightened, you clung tighter to a man, who seemed to mock your fear. You could have sworn that for a brief moment before he ran on the rooftops toward the bright Yoshiwara District you could see a smile on his face.

The fact that he only held you with one hand didn’t help you calm down at all.

A few minutes later, you were facing your black-haired oiran at Kyogoku House. It was the first time you had been in her seirō - you had always only met in tea house, but you didn’t have a nerve now to look around the room.

She sat in front of you proudly like a princess on a tatami dressed in a beautiful, silk, white kimono with a broad smile on her painted lips and a joy dancing in her bright eyes. She seemed even more radiant with affection, when she saw you.

Unusually, she was dressed more skimpily than usual - when her clothes opened you saw that instead of many other colorful layers of attire she was wearing only pink and black, lace panties and a wide obi of a similar color in a floral pattern tied around her slim belly. Her breasts were covered only by two straps of black material held by the belt, and her long, slender legs were dressed in stockings to match her underwear.

The man who brought you here unceremoniously dropped you off his shoulder on the floor and looked at you as if you were his new problem.

You jumped with your gaze from a figure standing above you to a woman sitting nearby without knowing what to do or why they brought you here.

Finally, the green-skinned man turned on his heel and walked toward the window you just came through, saying:

“I think you two have a little talk to do.”

And he jumped outside. He expected you to be too embarrassed to talk to Daki when he was around (although he was there all the time during your previous meetings, not that you knew about it) and he wanted her to explain this all to you.

You certainly had a ton of questions, and whether you survive afterwards will depend only on you.

Gyutaro crouched over the open window listening attentively to every word. His hand instinctively found its way to his skinny clavicle and began to unconsciously scratch it to relieve the stress.

After a long and, it would seem, difficult conversation for both of you, there was finally a deaf silence. He wondered for a moment if she killed you and if he could come back now. Then you spoke again. You were insecure and nervous - he could tell from your voice, but you surprised him again.

You wanted to try and keep seeing her. Despite knowing they’re both bloodthirsty demons eating your kind.

Gyutaro couldn’t take much time to think about your decision because he saw the black ink sky slowly change to a bright blue and red-orange flashes of the sun appear on the horizon, reminiscent of lanterns hanging in the Entertainment District.

Suddenly interrupting for you two, he went inside and kidnapped you again (despite his sister’s protests) jumping out with you to the street - he didn’t have much time and because you lost your shoes earlier, he couldn’t just leave you there. He knew Daki would be even more upset with him.

- - -

You were at the entrance of your house in just a few minutes. He stopped on the roof and grabbed you tight under the armpits. Your [Hair Color] hair was blowing in every possible direction by the wind and your head was spinning slightly like you were drunk again.

He bowed his head slightly and the orange sky looked like hellish flames behind him. He looked at you from behind his black-green hair, narrowing his menacingly yellow eyes.

“Do you have any idea what will happen if you ever cheat on her?”

Already less intimidated by his appearance, you nodded and said loudly, “You’re going to kill me!” and he slightly tilted his head as if you were irritating his ears.

“At least you’re smart.”

After these words, he let you fall on the gravel road outside your door. You moaned from the pain of a beaten ass, but you didn’t break anything - fortunately the height was too low for that.

Gyutaro watched for a moment as you lay before he disappeared behind the edge of the roof and rushed back to Kyogoku House. You didn’t know why he didn’t stay with you if he’d been there before… unless he was bothered by being with you all day.

Before any of your neighbors could see you, you got up with difficulty and took the geta that had been left on the street. Maybe someday you’ll find another…

You looked over the buildings thinking you’d see a big dark figure running over them, but he was gone, and you still had in your head nervous voice Warabi– … No, it’s Daki.

She told you her real name and what she was. She told you about her older brother and their history. She didn’t plan to hide anything from you from now on and exposed herself to you more than to anyone else.

Many had seen her attractive, firm body hidden under many layers of silk, but no one had yet known her heart.

Could you ignore something like that?

• • •

And you tried to come more often anyway. You couldn’t break your routine, but sometimes she was so impatient that she would even give you money, so you could get there early. Of course, it would have been easier if she intimidated the homeowners, Omitsu and her husband into letting you meet whenever you wanted, but you forbade her.

You could understand eating people, you would be a hypocrite to condemn her for eating the only food she could when you ate beef, veal, chicken and fish, when you were hungry. So that you could live on your own, you ate the flesh of other beings like many other species, and the fact that demons could only eat human was not her fault.

But you couldn’t tolerate, much less accept, terrorizing others so that only for you could meet. You could never accept senseless bloodshed or hurting and scaring others.

Your first face-to-face meeting was two weeks later, and it was the first time you were with all two of them. Gyutaro was ready to go out and hide somewhere not to disturb you, but you stopped him. You didn’t feel embarrassed or disgusted by him, although when you first saw him, he terrified you.

“Huh?” he murmured and his hand raised to scratch his neck. He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and amazement, and Daki felt a pleasant warmth pouring into her interior. So far, only two people have been kind to her brother.

If it wasn’t for her full makeup, you might see her cheeks blushing with delight. She slightly opened her lips in surprise, and her eyes glazed in the light of candles - she looked like a child at the sight of an unexpected, dream gift.

The man looked at his sister to see if she was okay with it and, not seeing any objection, sat down, but still keeping his distance. As time went on, he began to sit closer and closer to you.

You didn’t always just talk - sometimes Daki played koto or shamisen, that already were in the tea house or you played a board game Go.

• • •

Gyutaro finally fully understood why she was so angry when he came back from his long absence smelling like blood and you.

At first she was just angry with him for leaving her alone and even tried to look for him (without success), but when she smelled your strong smell from him she feared the worst. This led to another fight, and this time she didn’t pay attention to the furniture or the appearance of pretending to be a human being.

Frightened Omitsu told all the girls to stay away from her room hearing the sound of broken wood and her screams.

Hinatsuru then became more suspicious of the demon’s identity, but she was unable to send Kasugai crow to Tengen with her suspicions. She had to wait for her, and due to the increased demon activity in the city, she might have been caught. It wouldn’t be hard for a strong demon to kill a bird and then her.

She couldn’t have made a mistake. And she needed a real proof so she wouldn’t accidentally bewray herself by pointing out the wrong person.

• • •

Honestly, you were doing pretty good right now. Your insistence on stil making appearances all the time irritated Daki, who, if she could, would see you every day. Her brother supported you, although on the other hand, he hated saying no to his sister.

However, they both noticed that someone was watching their every move, and not only at Kyogoku House, so they had to continue the farce, at least until they got rid of all the pests.

But back to the present…

After giving the letter of request, the man (the owner of the seirō and Omitsu’s husband, whose name you couldn’t remember) told you that Warabihime was already waiting for you on the floor of the tea house.

Kyogoku House was the residence of oiran, kamuro, shinzou, other workers and owners couples - the women never brought their clients there and specifically went only to the chaya associated with their houses.

Surprised by her impatience, you let him lead you to the room. The little girls (probably kamuro, supporter housekeepers who cleaned and learned the artistic part of oiran work) looked at you with curiosity as always, not knowing how you could want to meet someone as cruel as Warabihime.

Out of politeness, you smiled warmly at them and waved, recognizing a few faces. Behind them, you saw a woman with bright purple eyes, coming out of one of the rooms. Her kimono fit her violet eyes like metal clips grafted into her fantastically arranged long hair. Under her left eye, you saw a tiny beauty mark through the white make-up that adds charm to her.

You thought maybe Daki mentioned about her once or two - she didn’t like her and complained about her a lot. What did she do to her? She never said it, although it was very likely nothing. The demon sometimes acts like a spoiled child around you when she’s completely done pretending.

“So, [Last Name]” the old man began as he stood with you in front of the thin shōji door. “Why are you with Warabihime? What do you like so much about her?”

You answered without hesitation.

“She’s cute.”

And you heard a loud man’s laugh coming out from behind the door. Gyutaro laughed uncontrollably, making the man next to you pale and almost fall over. At the last minute, you grabbed him by the arm and didn’t let him.

He nervously wiped his forehead with a cloth handkerchief and, saying he could handle it now and ran to the frist floor to be as far away from the monster and this cursed room as possible.

When you went inside, you saw the green-skinned demon shaking all over, holding his belly and laughing, covering his mouth with his other hand, trying to be quiet (which he didn’t do very well). His yellow eyes narrowed and took the shape of crescent moon. You thought you saw a tear drops out of one of them.

Daki tried to silence him by standing over him with wrinkled eyebrows, repeating over and over “Shhhh, shhhh,” loudly with her finger pressed against her narrow lips, but it didn’t help. Despite the white foundation all over her face and neck (part of her oiran makeup), you could see her ears turning deep red.

Gyutaro’s amusement also came to you, and after a while you also began to laugh, enjoying the next meeting with the demonic siblings.

As always, you spent a few hours together. Daki was playing shamisen, and you and her brother were playing Go while you were talking. You could have sworn that the whole meeting, the black-haired girl was strangely thoughtful. When you caught her looking at you, she looked away fast and her ears turned red again.

• • •

After all, just as you were leaving, you were suddenly dragged by the shoulder into a dark room. It was one of the new oiran. What did Daki say her name was? Hinatsuru? Maybe a little different.

“Um, yes?”

You asked without knowing what she might want from you. Her eyebrows wrinkled with concern and her lips slightly extended as if she was still hesitating about what she was doing. She kept holding you under your arm, squeezing your clothes tighter.

She had thin and slender fingers, but her grip wasn’t delicate. If you didn’t know, you’d think you were caught by a hard-working young man.

“I–, I need help,” she whispered finally looking into your eyes. She looked desperate. “It’s important and only you can help me.”

“Excuse me?”

There was still a deep horror on her face, worrying you a little bit and making you wonder how you could help her? You had never spoken until now. But despite this, Hinatsuru knew you well - the girls at Kyogoku House talking about you, because you were probably the longest customer of cold Warabihime and now the only one.

She didn’t want to imply anything, but everything suggested that others might be dead, and she didn’t want anything to happen to you. Also, you must have gotten to know the cruel oiran very well by that time and you could help her in her mission.

She now had limited movements and lost contact with the other two women. She tried to send a message to Tengen some time ago by mices, but he still didn’t respond. Maybe the demon found out.

“Please come here tomorrow and meet me. You have to talk to me,” she said as quietly as before.

You were about to ask why, but when you saw the feelings in her eyes... You just nodded. It must have been something important if she insisted, and there was a reason why she couldn’t talk about it now.

Was she afraid of someone?

The first thing that came to your mind was Daki, but she promised you no more terrorizing the inhabitants of her seirō. Maybe you’re thinking too much about her secret and that’s why she’s the one that comes to mind. Maybe it’s not about her at all…

“And take it.”

She handed you a object wrapped in a purple fabric. You couldn’t tell from only the touch what it was, so you hid it smoothly behind your kimono and nodded again.

Now she let you go. And yet you walked out of there with a bad feeling and a heavy burden on your shoulders.

- - -

Hinatsuru breathed a sigh of relief when you said yes. She was hoping to save you. She waited a moment before leaving the room herself and the first thing she saw, was Warabihime’s face contorted in a grimace of anger.

Her head was slightly tilted to the right and she frown to form a wrinkle on her smooth forehead.

“What are you doing?” she asked through clenched teeth.

Suddenly, cold sweat sweated all over the woman and she was covered with goose bumps. Her whole body was screaming, “RUN, FIGHT!” but she couldn’t move a single limb. It was hard even for her to breathe.

“N-nothing.”

The oiran leaned dangerously close, so Hinatsuru could easily smell her delicate sakura perfume and she whispered into her ear.

“So don’t touch what’s not yours, or you’ll lose your hands.”

Daki stepped away from her, threateningly staring her in the eyes for a moment, and left to return to Kyogoku House. She still could her talking as she walked away:

“I heard some girls disappeared from Tokito House recently. Take care of yourself.”

Hinatsuru felt she had to get out of here. She instinctively squeezed a small dose of poison hidden in the sleeve of the kimono she took with her just in case to simulate illness.

Yes, it’s time to bring in Uzui.

➻ Little dictionary:

Zataku (座卓) - is the generic term for this kind of low table.

Onigiri (御握り) - is made of rice formed into a triangular or oval shape, sometimes wrapped in a nori (Japanese name for different species of edible seaweed). This dish is stuffed with, among others, marinated Japanese apricot, roe, shrimp, fish, etc. The stuffing is usually salty to protect the rice from spoilage.

Gyūdon (牛丼, Japanese Beef Rice Bowl) - is one of the most popular and inexpensive fast food dishes in Japan. Its name can be literally translated to beef bowl.

Ikejime (活け締め) - It is a technique of killing fish neutralizing the nervous system of a live animal from bleeding. This ancient practice, of Japanese origin, has the effect of reducing stress and pain in fish. His muscles are not as tight, his flesh holds better, and his taste qualities are better compared to the usual way of strangulation.

Genre: Romance || Hurt/Comfort

Word count and reading time: +12.1k (49 min.)

⚠ Warnings for this part of the request: Minor death, Eating dead body, Severe injuries (not Reader), Forbidden Love/Mutual Pining,

Mukago’s life as a member of Twelve Kizuki was… stressful. She thought if she could join a group of the most powerful demons in the world, it would be easier for her, but it’s just getting harder.

She felt the constant pressure exerted by Muzan, the Upper Ranks looked down on her with superiority and contempt, and she was constantly afraid to maintain her position as the Lower Four.

Rui, Lower Five, was strong and probably if he wasn’t interested in climbing the ranks of Twelve Kizuki he could easily beat her - she could feel it just by standing near him during meetings.

He gave off a dense and suffocating aura showing how many people he had eaten and illustrating how ruthless and insensitive he was.

Apparently, he didn’t spare even the members of his “family”, which Kibutsuji kindly allowed him to create. Its size changed very quickly and often - someone joined, someone left (usually from his white hand in monstrous torments) and a new replacement appeared again.

This made him Muzan’s favorite, and all the Lower Ranks looked at him with jealousy, although he didn’t seem to notice or care about it.

She wouldn’t have beaten him if he challenged her to the Blood Battle - she knew her abilities and the differences between their powers that divide them like a deep chasm.

This didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try to defend herself, she would be foolish to surrender without a fight.

He didn’t need weak and cowardly demons. He wanted nothing from them but boundless devotion and ruthlessness. It’s the only way she could go far as a demon, as Lower One and all the Upper Ranks have shown.

And that’s why she was relieved that the spider boy was indifferent to the rat race in the ranks of Twelve Kizuki. As a result, she could still live.

But even though she had been one of Kizuki for some time, she still didn’t feel like a member of their group. It’s like she totally doesn’t fit there.

The Kibutsuji once said that they all should get rid of their humanity. Their greatest weakness, but just because she was a demon doesn’t mean that she still has no human feelings - she could still laugh, cry and feel gratitude for the kindness showed for her.

That’s why she remembers with pleasure her first encounter with [Last Name], which she tries to hide even from the Kibutsuji, fearing how he might react.

She was wounded and running from the Demon Slayer. She hoped her Lower Rank 4 position would somehow deter him, but he was determined to kill her. Too late she noticed that he was one of the kinoe - hashire she would have sensed from afar long ago.

With dizzying speed she ran through the trees, hearing his footsteps behind her, not at all far behind her. He easily kept up with her.

Every time she heard him pull out his katana with a metallic sound, she tilted her head down or changed direction to avoid the colored blade. Once he managed to cut the tips of her horns. She felt sweat run all over her body and her hair stand on end.

This chase could go on indefinitely unless one coincidence - a cliff that neither she nor he noticed.

With the menacing sound of a katana cutting through the air, she tried to dodge once again and cover her head with her hands, but suddenly she lost ground under her feet.

She didn’t have time to scream when she started falling, with the Demon Slayer next to her.

In the dark she had much better eyesight than humans in the dark, and in the dim moonlight she could see a surprise painted on the boy’s face - he didn’t even understand, what was happening before he hit the stones below them with a crack.

The fall, despite appearances, was quiet - the sound of broken bones was no louder than the sound of breaking a dry branch. Neither of them screamed. The only thing that escaped their mouths was the air collected in their lungs, which came out stifled.

She landed on her abdomen - she felt pain in her bent limbs and collapsed lungs.

Her nerve endings were burning her throughout her body, sending a message to her brain about her numerous critical injuries, and liters of blood spilling from her wounds made her feel cold as if she were lying in the snow. The punctured lungs prevented her from breathing, and the blood flooding them from the inside would probably have drowned her long ago, if she hadn’t been a demon.

Either that, or she’d die of pain because, unfortunately, she fell frist on her feet.

The nameless Demon Slayer fell out of her line of sight, and it cost her too much effort to lift and turn her head to see where he lay.

She didn’t hear his groans or heavy, unsteady breathing indicative of an agonizing state of great pain, so she suspected he fell on his head and split his skull. He died quickly and probably painlessly, unlike her - she was waiting for a long and painful recovery now.

If she faints for a few hours it would be a grace, but her mind stubbornly kept her conscious.

After about thirty minutes (which seemed like an eternity to her), her throat regenerated, and although she was still in pain, she was able to emit squeaks of pain. She sounded pathetic even to her own ears - not like a member of the most powerful demons in the world, but like a mouse tormented by a cat.

Tears continued to flow from her eyes, like endless waterfalls, blurring the view of white flowers from her face. It hurt, everything hurt her so much.

Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching her, and then saw a brighter and brighter light illuminating everything in front of her. Rocks, trees, plants… For a moment she feared it would be a rising of the day, but she didn’t burn after standing in all its glory.

The person, who arrived, stood behind her back and she could only guess who it was - a lost trader in the mountains? Another demon? Or maybe another Demon Slayer?

In her present condition, she couldn’t escape. She was scared, but at the same time she wanted all the pain to end.

Will that be the end of her? Will she find peace? Will she go to hell for her sins? Will she be reborn and get a second chance?

The person stood over them for a moment and heard only the hiss of the fire burning land in the candle that human had brought and its faster breathing.

She saw how the light moving and long shadow on the stones in front of her as the mystery figure covered the flame.

The traveler was afraid. She was sure of it. Mugako didn’t have a sharpened sense of hearing as well as the Upper Moon, but the person’s heart was beating so hard that she could hear it as if she had an ear on their chest.

Despite panic, this heartbeat calmed her down a bit. With a sore throat in a hoarse, quiet voice she said:

“He-help…”

And finally, she began to float away into blissful unconsciousness, listening to the sound of a rapid heartbeat.

• • •

Mukago woke up some time later in an unfamiliar place. She didn’t see the black sky above her or even the surrounding her before mountain landscape, but the wooden ceiling of a small house. She lay on a soft futon tightly covered with numerous blankets to keep her warm.

Where was she? Did she die? This is reincarnation?

Her sense of smell was immediately attacked by the numerous sweet smells, which was mixing with each other and surrounding her from all sides. She couldn’t pick up one that would tell her where she was.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of sliding wooden doors and footsteps. With difficulty she turned her head and saw the figure standing in the dark - she knew from the smell that it was a human. Unfortunately, it was too dark for her to tell more about person from place where she lay. She’d have to get up and get closer, but her head (and all the limbs) seemed to weigh hundreds of kilograms.

The stranger gently put down the wicker baskets on the ground next to the entrance and went to the furnace nearby. As quietly as before, person threw in a few logs of wood and lit a fire.

Are you afraid of her? Is that why you were so careful? But then why would you take her to your home?

In the dim orange light from the stone furnace, she saw better the facial features of her new companion. You didn’t look like a Demon Slayer, and your worried, wrinkled eyebrows didn’t indicate bad intentions. More like regret.

Maybe you regretted your decision and wondered what to do next? What should you do with a dangerous demon under your roof?

Suddenly you noticed she was awake and with a quiet “oh!” you froze motionless. In the warm glow of fire, she saw the surprise that appeared on your face for a second and then how you looked at her with those [color] eyes with an expression she didn’t recognize for now. She hasn’t seen it on anyone’s face too long time to tell immediately what kind of emotion it is.

She knew perfectly well the fear hidden in the stiff faces of her dead victims or the sadness when they begged for mercy in tears. She had seen pain and anger, but this… It was something new.

“Are you still going to sleep? Are you all right?” you asked, confusing her even more.

Why would you ask that and care about her? With every moment she spent with you, she have more and more questions popping into her head, and the uncertainty of your intentions twisting her guts. She didn’t know what to expect from you.

She nodded hesitantly and again there was silence between you for a few minutes.

You turned your gaze away from her looking at a distant point in front of you, focusing on your thoughts, and she felt the atmosphere getting more thicker.

You didn’t look like you were planning on speaking anytime soon, so she decided to do it, but before she spoke she already knew that it wouldn’t be an easy - no sound would pass through her dry, sore throat, and her swollen like a sponge tongue, stuck to her palate.

She swallowed her saliva with difficulty a few times and opened her glued lips with a wet sound attracting your attention again.

“Where–?”

“At my house,” you said quickly and didn’t let her finish. “Don’t bother yourself, lie down. Try to get more sleep.”

She closed her mouth obediently and continued to stare at you with a startled look.

Unable to stand her attentive, unblinking gaze, you turned your head the other way and looked into space. You felt awkward when she did it.

The windows were closed with wooden shutters, so the only source of light in the small hut was the fire from the furnace, and the sound that interrupted the uncomfortable silence was the crackling of wood in the heat and your quiet breaths.

When you entered the house you noticed a change - her breathing was no longer as loud and whistling as at the beginning, when you found her.

Have her lungs already regenerated? If so, how long will it take for her to fully recover?

You tightened your lips in anger and frowned slightly in frustration. What are you gonna do next? What will she do?

How stupid you were…

You chastised yourself in your mind for your recklessness and wondered what you should do now, when the demon was watching you all the time.

She could see perfectly well how your face changed under the influence of emotion - honestly, anyone could read you like an open book, but she hoped you wouldn’t suddenly pull out a nichirin blade from somewhere to kill her.

She wasn’t sure, she would have been able to defend herself from you in this state.

- - -

The night passed for you… without much 'attraction' - you didn’t talk to Mukago anymore and after a few minutes you fell asleep by the stove through its warmth and she didn’t try to wake you up. She focused on regenerating as quickly as possible so she could leave.

But unfortunately, she couldn’t sleep at the same time anymore, so she just lay alone with her thoughts, staring at the ceiling. Hunger squeezed and twisted her guts, the recovering drained a lot of energy from her, and when she looked at you, saliva flowed into her mouth.

You looked so good with that calm face untainted by any worries when you were conscious. Your scent filled her nostrils until she got dizzy - she felt drunk from your scent. You weren’t a marechi, but everything in the cabin smelled like you - the floor, the furniture and even the sheets she was lying in.

The years spent in the wooden walls made the entire house to soak up your scent like a handkerchief thrown into the water, although you probably didn’t smell it - demons have a much more sensitive sense of smell than humans, and her hunger with numerous, severe injuries only made it worse.

You were like an aromatic, fat chicken covered in honey over a fire. With skin flushed from the warmth and slightly shiny from the sweat running down your forehead.

You were definitely well seasoned. Just looking at you, she could imagine the structure of your muscles, feel the distinct iron taste of blood on her tongue spiced with your emotions.

There were many chemical reactions in the human body that were also caused by hormones and enzymes - from what she remembered about butchering meat or fish, when she was still human. Apparently, fear killed the taste of meat by the adrenaline and acids released in muscle tissues during stressful situations, so now you were perfect. Hunters and fishermen tried to kill the animal as quickly and painlessly as possible to prevent it. This killing technique is called ikejime.

You weren’t special, but in her condition, you were everything she could have dreamed of right now.

Normally, she’d sneak up on you while you were asleep and kill you before you could react, but she couldn’t. She still had broken bones (not only in her legs) and too severe internal injuries. All she had left was to wait and suffer in the silence still lured by your scent like a bee to a flower.

You unknowingly tortured her and turned your little house into her own private hell. You were her executioner, even though you didn’t do anything to her.

Her belly murmured low and long for food like a dog waiting for a bone, but it was a sound too muffled by the blanket to wake you up. You didn’t even move in your position.

An unpleasant spasm passed through her bowels like a spear, and the emptiness in her stomach became even more painful. Even more saliva poured into her mouth and flowed down her unnaturally pale cheek to soak into the pillow under her head and into her messy hair.

All she could do now was looking at you with a deep hunger in her eyes.

- - -

Shortly after sunrise you woke up - although the shutter was tightly closed and covered with some material she could tell by the singing of the morning birds.

Your sleepy eyes slowly opened and you stretched your bones with a quiet crack. From being in an awkward position for hours, your back and neck hurt. You grabbed the back of your neck to massage your tense muscles and looked around with tired eyes into a dark room, but you didn’t saw anything - the fire from the furnace has long gone out, leaving behind a delicate smell of smoke.

Moving around in a small room using only your memory, you walked up to the door and a little opened it, letting light in - luckily for your adopted guest, they didn’t face east or west, so it was half-dark.

Now you could see a white horned head with silver hair around her like a halo from beneath your bedding. Her dark eyes stared at you, making you less comfortable with a constant observer.

Honestly, if you forgot her, you’d scream in terror until the nearest village heard you and waking everyone up.

How about you become a new legend about a ghost living in the mountains with a killing voice, hm?

Her eyes followed you wherever you went in a small room - whether you made yourself breakfast or a bento for lunch at work. You pretended you didn’t notice how the unnatural irises moved, tracking your every slightest movement. When you disappeared out of their area, she even struggled to move her whole head towards you.

Was it uncomfortable? Yes. Was that disturbing? Most of all.

And you could have left the door locked and forgotten about her… Or leave her in the mountains till morning to burn.

“I’m going to work, don’t destroy or touch anything,” you said coldly when you changed (hiding behind a curtain made from an old blanket and hung from the ceiling on a beam supporting the roof) clothes and turned to the exit.

You didn’t even look at her knowing she’d still stare at you quietly with those dark eyes.

- - -

To your surprise, when you came home that evening, the demon woman was still lying where you left her.

Demons don’t regenerate faster?

You thought slowly chewing an onigiri ball. A little white rice stuck to your cheeks around your lips, but you didn’t pay much attention to it when you were focused on the lying demon.

“You still can’t move?” you asked her, still standing in the red light of the setting sun.

You had a bag of groceries hanging loosely on your one shoulder and an axe in the other hand. You weren’t stupid enough to walk into a dark room with a predator without any weapons.

But you were stupid enough to let a monster in and fall asleep next to her.

You reprimanded yourself quietly in your mind, frowned at that and clenched the handle of the iron axe tighter.

And then you left her unsupervised.

Were you mad at yourself? Yeah, but you can’t change the time. You could only hope she was really too hurt to get to you.

“Hey, come on, move,” you ordered to her still not going inside.

“I-I can’t…” she said in a slightly hoarse voice. You couldn’t tell if it was because of her bad condition or the long time she hadn’t used it.

So far, her body has taken care of numerous internal injuries and setting her ribs in right place. Maybe if she had eaten in the meantime it would have gone faster, but she was completely alone all day without any food.

Unfortunately, despite healing most of the injuries from her body, she felt weaker because of the amount of energy it consumed from her. Probably even after she’s completely healed, she won’t be able to stand on her feet for a while.

“This better be true,” you threatened, and she could have seen your embrance on the wooden shaft of the tool tighten. She even heard the wood crackling quietly under your hand.

You were ready to attack her at any moment if she suddenly jumped at you, and she was sure you wouldn’t hesitate.

You went inside and put a white wrap from a fabric bag next to her. It emitted a strong odor that attracted her on the one hand and repelled her on the other. Like water in a poisoned lake, a dehydrated animal. Like a Venus flytrap bugs.

“Eat,” you said looking down at her, and the command acted on her like letting the dog off a leash.

She had one big word in her head: “FOOD” - she immediately turning to the bundle with a weak, pale hand ending with sharp claws and she tore the material.

It was meat.

She felt she was about to cry. She didn’t understand your kindness and she had many questions.

Who are you to her, after all? You helped her a lot, but your behavior shows her how much you despise her (or her kind). You still gave her mixed signals that caused her a headache.

If she still goes on like this, she’ll go crazy because of you.

With a trembling hand, she grabbed it and shoved it into her mouth, almost choking. The sudden sweetness that attacked her tongue turned into a bitter and tart taste, making her want to vomit.

She quickly spat out a large piece of meat and began coughing and spitting with effort to rid her mouth of the residue. When she looked up, she saw you looking at her frown in a grim grimace of discontent.

She knew that look, you reminded her… It’s better not to mention his name here. Even quietly, because he’d find out, and he’d be angry to see one of his moons in such a weak state. He would probably consider her unworthy of that rank.

And what would he do next? Would he downgrade her to a lower position? Would he expel her from Twelve Kizuki? Would he kill her?

Those thoughts gave her the creeps.

“What is it? Why can’t you eat?” You asked, and your voice sounded sharp in her ears. She lowered her head. She couldn’t look you in the face for some reason.

“You’re a demon, you eat meat,” you said as if you were stating the obvious, such as that it’s bright during the day and birds fly in the sky.

“I can’t,” she admitted quietly and reluctantly, still trembling. “I can’t eat an animal.”

Are you gonna kill her now? You gonna call a Demon Slayer? Why don’t you just expose her to sunlight?

All she heard was your unhappy sigh above her and saw how you take the bag of the rest of the meat from her. There was still probably kilo in there.

“Well, it’s sad, but it won’t go to waste.”

You turned away from her and sat by the stone oven with the dry twigs from the wicker basket. Moments later, you put a pot on it and started preparing food for yourself.

In the next few minutes, the hut was filled with aromas of spices and the sound of bubbling water for sauce. All your attention was turned to cooking and she could see your calm face again illuminated by a yellow, warm flame.

You looked as if you had forgotten about her presence and all your problems - now there was only you and your little cabin. Your home. The outside world didn’t exist. You probably didn’t even worry about the probable sudden intrusion of some dangerous intruder.

Mukago would like to have such a quiet haven. A place, where she can come and forget everything - about demons and people, the rest of Kizuki and about her Master, fear of whether she’ll survive another day or the slayer she encounters is stronger than she is.

But looking at you, she finally calmed herself - it was nice to see you at work, even when you weren’t doing anything special.

Lying in your futon and covered with a blanket (she could still smell your scent, even though it had begun to faded) watching you cook - this scene was almost family-like. Affectionate. Intimate.

If she were human, the smell would make her drool. Maybe you could eat together.

When you were done, you put your food in a clay dish and sat in the corner not far from the furnace that was still generating heat. Suddenly, as if you remembering something, you looked in her direction without moving.

“Are you going to watch me eat like that?” you asked hesitantly.

Surprised, she forgot she was staring at you so intensely. Slightly ashamed, she looked away and focused on the ceiling this time.

Now the roles were reversed and you were staring at her, slowly eating the steaming gyūdon and wondering what to do next.

You should have gotten rid of her this morning, thrown her in the sunlight. What went into your mind to take her with you? If not now, she’ll kill you the next time. The only thing demons can eat is human flesh, and now you’re sure, and she even confirmed it. She’s hungry, you can’t feed her anything else. The sooner you take care of this, the better it will be.

You thought as you put the dish next to you and turned to the door. The sun has already set.

With resignation, you promised yourself you’d get rid of her in the morning (even though you knew, you wouldn’t keep it as usual).

“How long will it take you to regenerate?”

You suddenly broke the silence. The horned demon looked at you and the fire reflected in her silver irises. The red sclera all around it made her look like she really came out of the depths of hell, but there was something endearing about her - if it weren’t for the unnaturally eyes color and horns, she would have been really lovely human.

“I don’t know.”

She admitted it honestly, because she had nothing else and asked instead what will you do with her, still not looking at you.

“I don’t know,” you said as if you wanted to tease her.

Although the way your body was tensed up and your pulse quickened, she knew you were lying, but there was nothing she could do about it.

- - -

Mukago suddenly felt her blanket lift. She wasn’t sleeping - she just lay there with her eyes closed trying to speed up her recovery by focusing on healing individual fractures and injuries rather than trying everything at once.

With her slightly open eyelids, she saw you squatting next to her, holding the same axe on your shoulder as before, and staring at her belly with squinted eyes.

She quickly raised her hands, trying to shield herself from the blows, squealing like any woman in the face of unexpected danger. Surprised she was awake, you shivered and dropped the covering her material. A deep blush of shame appeared on your cheeks from being caught in the act of disgrace.

“I was just checking to see if you’re recovering well,” you said right away so she wouldn’t have any bad ideas…

And you thought you could change the sheets soon, because lying in stains of dried blood leaking through the bandages didn’t seem too hygienic to you, but you never mentioned it.

You sounded like you needed to explain yourself to her.

And stupid.

When you realized it, your surprised (and definitely guilty) face turned into a grimace again. You made a loud “tsk!” with your tongue and walked away from her.

Before you left, you took a big basket with you, and in the first rays of the sun coming through the door, she saw your ears are still red.

She was alone.

Again.

She felt like the small progress you had made in your unexpected relationship had been reduced to zero, and even as if you had taken a few extra steps backwards. She felt guilty about it because you really seemed nice even though you were hiding under the hood of a rough person all the time. She wished she hadn’t kept her eyes closed or called you.

Although she had spent years as a demon, she had not had many opportunities to meet another person to talk to. Humans quickly ended up as her food, weaker demons fled or died fighting for rank, and Twelve Kizuki treated each other as enemies.

Why did she only now feel how lonely she was? Or maybe it’s by tasting a sweet a little bit of the other person’s company?

Is it gonna be hard for her to get back into her life now after that you’ve just walked into it so unexpectedly?

Will she be able to return to those cold, lonely nights surrounded only by the dead bodies of her enemies who only hated her? Who only wanted to kill her?

You never gave her the feeling that you wanted to hurt her or that you were angry with her. You made ugly faces sometimes, but she saw you were only mad at yourself.

You did it when you said or showed her too much. You pretend you don’t care about her, but she doesn’t think it’s true. You’re a good person.

And maybe you were lonely in those mountains too. In these four wooden walls, where it is futile to look for the smell or traces of any guests.

Will she forget the heat from your furnace? The smell of flowers surrounding your home? The sound of your clamly beating heart or quietly breathing while you sleep?

When will she forget your voice or the color of your eyes? Or all those faces, that even though she didn’t feel comfortable with you at first, she found it funny now.

Did you know that when you get nervous, your left temple pulsates?

Here it was so… Pleasant. Nice. Different.

- - -

“How much more time do you need?” you asked when you came to see her in the afternoon.

She was now able to sit up and hardly felt any pain in her abdomen. The only thing stopping her from leaving was the sunlight and the broken bones in her legs.

“About twelve hours.” However, after a moment of reflection, she added. “Maybe a little more.”

Hearing an answer that satisfied you, you nodded your head and put away the new dry branches and charcoal. The last one you got from a friendly family, and the rest you found on the way home from the city where you work.

Despite living near the woods and mountains, you were neither a hunter nor a lumberjack. This meant, you had to get up early in the morning and drive your carretela the next few kilometers to your workplace, but you liked it. The other employees were always nice and there was always a customer to whom you could please with your goods. An additional plus was the specific place where you live allowing you to experiment with it.

And what were you trading?

“What are you doing?” the girl asked, when she felt a little more confident and saw you pull a little wrap from behind your kimono.

“I’m planting.”

You sprinkled seeds from a small handkerchief into a pot and wrote the name of the plant with charcoal on it, before you pulled out a thin notebook from the book cabinet and starting to write something in it. She thought you wouldn’t want to talk to her, but after a while, you started more talking.

“My boss sometimes gives me different seeds to record the growth of plants under different conditions than in the greenhouse.” You paused for a moment to see if you wrote the name on the other page correctly. “And there are also plants that won’t grow anywhere else, but in the mountains because of this.”

“Are you a gardener?”

“I work in a flower shop, but yes - I’m also a gardener. I even have a nice garden in front of my house thanks to this.”

“Do you know a lot of plants?”

“Oh, yes, boss probably brings them from all over the world.” You said in a tone showing that you don’t consider it a great feat. Like you’d be better off without that knowledge. “He has many shops and contacts with abroad. He’s a businessman and lately he’s trying to make a deal for his services with some old family of pharmacists.”

“Is that why you were there? To study the growth of flowers in the mountains?”

The quiet shuffle of the grey pencil on the paper went silent when you looked at her. She was no longer hiding from your gaze - after all, she was Lower Rank 4.

“Yes, you fell into my Hayachineusuyukiso.” Seeing that the name doesn’t mean anything to her, you added. “Also called Edelweiss or Beautiful Star. A rare, white, mountain flower, not difficult to grow, but it was difficult for me to make suitable soil conditions for it.”

The only thing she answered was “oh” as an understanding of the subject of the plant, and then she added even louder and more confidently “Oh!” when she understood exactly what she had done.

She swooped in (along with the Demon Slayer) and destroyed your hard work to grow these flowers. She didn’t know what you had to do to get this, so she was even more worried. And you were probably doing it for your boss. She was hoping, he wouldn’t fire you for it.

“I’m sorry,” she said with guilt, putting her hands on the sheets covering her. There’s almost nothing left of your scent on it, replaced by her sweat and blood.

“You don’t have to, you can’t fix them with words.”

You lifted your eyes from the pages and saw the demon staring at her clenched hands. The bangs and longer strands of hair fell freely over her face, concealing her like a silver hood, but were still too short to cover her tightly held lips.

Was she clutching them out of hunger or guilt?

Even though the thought occurred in your head, you didn’t consider her a serious threat. She reminded you of a child, which somebody yelled at - sad and ashamed of their actions. Sitting in a corner for punishment and left with her thoughts to calmly reflect on her mistakes. Unwillingly, you added while closing the small notebook with a slam.

“I didn’t need them for anything anymore anyway - I just had to get the flowers to unfurl to confirm a theory.”

When you stood up, she followed you with her eyes, watching you slowly getting to leave, before you stopped for a moment.

You came back and put some similar notebooks in front of her.

“If you’re bored, you can read or draw on blank pages. I’d probably be bored to death with nothing to do here.”

“Are you going back to work?” she asked, hoping you’d stay with her.

“There’s a charcoal-burning family on the other side of the mountains, and I promised Tanjiro-kun I’d come and visit them after I checked on you.”

“Oh, okey.”

Her sad and disappointed tone made you feel like you just kicked a little cat. Before guilt and duty completely took over you, you left planning a meeting with the rest of the Kamado family, picking prettier flowers for a bouquet for Mrs. Kie and her two daughters.

- - -

“Any improvement?” you asked when you finally came back.

Although you left your friends before dark (knowing how treacherous mountain roads can be), you still reached the hut only after the sun had hidden behind the horizon.

The abdominal pain practically disappeared along with the dark blue and purple spots adorning her skin and she could move her toes, but it was still a problem for her to bend her knees. She still can’t walk on her own.

“I need a few more hours.”

“Is there any way to speed this up?”

“I could, but…”

She couldn’t finish a sentence knowing there was no way you’d say yes. She looked down and silver hair again obscured her view.

She heard you sighing and leaving. In the backyard, you threw something on a gravel road that gave off a metallic reverberation and dragged it, destroying a few of the stray little twigs.

Through the entrance to the cottage, she saw you standing in front of a wooden trailer. You harnessed a little brown horse to it and started pulling off the fabric bags and bringing them home, putting them in a corner.

She watched your actions with curiosity until you stopped, stood over her and asked with a neutral expression.

“If I help you, can you make it to the carriage?”

She looked at the vehicle one more time and then nodded at you. You uncovered her body, pulled her out of the futon - there was a large dark stain of clotted blood where she lay, but you’ve seen a significant improvement. You were involuntarily happy about it.

She reached out to you like a baby. You held her under her armpits and then you tried to put her hand across your neck. The last time, when you carried her home unconscious, she was definitely heavier and harder for you to maneuver.

Unlike the first time you met her, she was no longer cold - the gentle warmth of her body made you believe she was truly human, if it weren’t for her appearance.

Relying on you, she came to the carriage and you put her in the trailer. Her legs were still weak and flabby, but the fact that she could walk a few steps with the help was a good sign.

“Where are you taking me?”

She asked, watching you step forward and sit in the coachman’s seat. Holding the leather reins, you swung with it at the animal to make it move.

Not very glad with the night ride, the horse initially resisted, but after a few pulls, he finally moved. His clattering hooves resounded in silence along with his loud hisses, making it even less real.

When was the last time Mukago rode in a carriage? It must have been when she was still human.

Was she afraid? No, even though you didn’t answer her question and you kept your distance almost the whole time. She knew you weren’t bad.

And she knew it would finally come. She couldn’t hope that you would let her live with you - after all, you were natural enemies.

When after a long ride you stopped the horse before the entrance between the two mountains, she knew it was time to say goodbye.

You went around the carriage again to get to her and took her down, before you led her deep into a narrow, stone road and sat her on a big boulder.

“I can’t go any further.”

You said crouching at the height of her eyes. You pointed your finger at the dark behind her and added. “That’s where I found you, with any luck he should still be there, if the wild animals haven’t gotten him first.”

The demon nodded. She still didn’t understand what was inside your head and why you decided to helping her so much, but she was very grateful to you.

She looked at your back for a moment as you walked away from her and when your footsteps silenced in the other sounds of the night, she slowly crawl into the corpse of the Demon Slayer.

She had to make several stops along the way to rest, but she had all night to get there.

Surprisingly, the corpse was still lying where he fell. Flowers were arranged around it, as if someone was trying to make it up for the dead boy’s lack of burial.

As she got closer, she could see that the animals had found their way to him during those three days. His right hand was missing and in the place of his eyes were two black voids staring straight at her. The dried blood on his cheeks now looked like tears. Equally bad must have been the hole in his belly, where something was still moving under the stiff material of his uniform.

Unable to complain, she tried to ignore the horrible smell coming from the rotting body and after a few minutes she could walk normally again.

- - -

You didn’t leave from the entrance to the ravine long before dawn. What told you to stay? Guilt? Duty to a stranger’s girl?

No, it’s a demon. You can’t forget that.

But even your own admonitions didn’t move you. Your horse turned his head restlessly waiting for you to let him to turn back and lie down again in the dry straw in a small barn, but you waited.

For what? Until she finishes eating and comes back for you?

Tired, you rubbed your eyes and struggled with drowsiness. You decided to wait another ten minutes, and if she doesn’t signal that she needs help by then, you’ll leave.

- - -

You were awakened from a shallow sleep by the restlessness of the horse. The animal tromped its hooves and neighing, trying to wake you up and keep you away from the danger in front of you.

When you got up quickly, you grabbed the lantern next to you and lit your way, but you didn’t see anything. Not any demon or a wild animal.

Feeling a sudden movement of air next to you, you looked to the side, but there was nothing too. You could have tell someone was here a moment ago - you still felt the warmth on your shoulder.

Deciding you’d wasted too much time here, you ordered for the horse turn around, still looking back to see what would upset him so much. When you took a closer look, you saw on the road an elongated shape sliding slowly into the nearby bushes.

A snake? Well, at least it wasn’t your still hungry friend…

On the way home, you could have sworn that you felt a constant gaze stuck into you like two daggers. It wasn’t very pleasant, you could feel how its hidden owner buzzing with bad emotions and the desire to murder.

It gave you the creeps all over your body and all you could think about was getting back to a safe house as soon as possible.

Maybe it’s just your wild imagination? Being alone late at night in the dark woods are good food for it.

The only thing you heard that night (apart from the moaning of the wooden wheels of your carriage) was the loud flutter of the wings of some bird flying over your head, but because of the thick branches of the trees you couldn’t even see the starry sky above you. You knew something was there because once you even got hit in the head with a pine cone that broke off under his weight.

- - -

For the next few days you had some peace and quiet - no one fell to your flowers or needed your help.

The only people, who disturbed you were mysterious men in brown suits, who came to ask you for the way to the mountains. They explained that they worked for some organization and one of their members had a terrible accident nearby.

The road to this place was easy from your house, so you pointed them in the right direction.

All you saw was how they looked at each other through the gap in the material attached under their hats in understanding and they left you without a word.

The first time you came to this place, the view was terrible, now it must be a lot of worst especially after you left the corpse for decay, wild animals and brought there the starving demon.

But it’s not your problem anymore, although you could have sworn the birds that accompanied them looked at you like they knew what you’d done.

They looked at you with their black eyes, judging you quietly and with the intelligence you’ve never seen in any animal.

But maybe you were just imagining it? Maybe you’re just too paranoid?

- - -

Mukago thought no one would find out about her weak. That it would remain her little secret.

Oh, how wrong she could have been.

As much as she wanted to stay and be around you, she knew it would be too dangerous for both of you. Just thinking about you, no matter how pleasant, could get her (and not only her) into trouble.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, nothing could escape the attention of the Demon King.

One day he summoned her to Infinite Castle by a woman with biwa.

She was wandering through the forest and all she heard was an unexpected sharp tug of the strings of the instrument, when she suddenly stood in front of the cold face of Kibutsuji. The demon was dressed in white pants and a black suit still remaining in his current role of a good husband and father.

The demon has recently found a new family to serve as a cover for him, so he can hide from the Demon Slayer Corps.

What did he do to achieve this?

She couldn’t be sure, but she expected him to stain his hands again with the blood of an innocent person. People were nothing but food and tools to him, just like the members of Twelve Kizuki.

He stood in front of her, staring at her like she was an uninteresting animal. An insect. A miserable subspecies.

Seeing him, she immediately turned even more pale and fell on her knees before him, lowering her head as low as she could. Her forehead touched the hard, dark wood beneath her and she felt how sweat ran down her temples. Mukago barely holds back the trembling from nervousness.

His forehead was not tainted by any wrinkle created by furrowed brows. The man's posture, though it was and did not seem tense, she still could feel the dread floating in the air.

“What was that supposed to mean?” Muzan asked calmly but harshly, standing over her. As he always did when he gave the order for Twelve Kizuki.

“I–”

She didn’t know what to say. How was she supposed to explain all of this? Or was it about puncture the Demon Lord’s pride, thinking he wouldn’t know? Here, among the demons you could die for lesser offenses.

Or maybe she should already start apologizing and writing her last mental will?

“You had a perfect source of information right under your nose,” he started to speak, and his immaculate image began to break like a broken vessel. With every word, she could hear the anger rising within him. “How could you leave so easily? When others work hard to find even the slightest clue as to where Blue Spider Lily is, you just turn down the chance that fate has given you!”

With his scream, something glass snapped near them, making Mukago squirm even more. She trying to hide inside himself and shaking like a frightened rabbit.

She began to wonder if the next thing that snapped would be her skull.

This time, however, he spared her life. It just ended with an unpleasant reprimand that she won’t forget for long, really long time.

Black-haired woman barely teleported her to the vicinity of the wooded areas of the mountains, she already started instinctively running towards you with tears in her eyes.

Were those tears of fear? Relief from a life saved yet again by luck? Happiness of seeing you one more time?

Or maybe just a rush of cold air caused them?

Her whole body was still trembling and covered with goosebumps, the cloud of shock was just started leaving her mind, her heart was beating fast fueled by adrenaline, but there was also an unusual lightness in her legs, as if she weighed nothing.

Her feet carried her to the door of your hut, lured by the familiar scent of flowers from your garden, dug-up earth and…

You.

Mukago is alive.

For now…

- - -

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” Mukago heard your voice along with approaching footsteps.

She waited for you as usual, sitting on the wooden beam supporting the ceiling, that she had spent so much time staring at during her long convalescence.

She has been coming to see you almost every day since she had the conversation with her Master - sometimes she disappearing for a quick hunt.

She tried to deal with it quickly, but at the same time she chose villages a little further away from your home. She didn’t want to bring here another slayer or, even worse, a Hashira.

That would be too suspicious and it could lead them to you.

What would they do when they found out you were friends with a demon? With the murderer of countless people? One of the Kizuki?

She didn’t even want to think about it…

Another reason was a little selfish, because she didn’t want you to hear about her victims. She didn’t want you to start looking at her like everyone else, like the demon that she is.

But this time when you came back, you weren’t alone - she heard other footsteps too.

From the sounds she might have deduced your comrade was a man. He walked quietly, but confidently. She could hear the clatter of the scabbard on his katana slapping against his hip and belt when he was walking, and his calm breathing.

A hunter?

No, the slayer.

And from his strong aura, she could have infer that he must have been high-ranking. Perhaps, he was even a Kinoe.

Outside the door, she heard a man walk away from you. When you entered the hut, for a moment the orange rays of the sunset fell inside, drawing your long shadow on the ground. You immediately looked up expecting to see your guest there as usual.

And as usual, she was there. With a nice smile and soft eyes waiting for you. Just like a domestic cat.

A large, predatory cat that could easily devour you if she only wanted to. She was now like a wild tiger in her territory.

You no longer saw in her the same fear as before or the pretended confidence.

But tigers are big cats, who also like to lie down sometimes without stress.

She often watched you at work too. You didn’t know exactly why she came back to you or where her interest in plants came from, because she never made it clear before what she was interested in. When you asked her about it, she only said:

“Because I can’t and you know a lot about this.”

You sensed her sincerity at the time, even though you didn’t quite understand what she meant.

Maybe if you knew Muzan Kibutsuji you could understand, but she couldn’t tell you about him.

And her mission wasn’t the only reason why she couldn’t leave…

Sometimes you felt like you were playing a game with her, where you slowly discover more and more about each other.

It was nice talking to someone and not going back to an empty hut where no one was waiting for you, but it brought new problems for you.

You began to get attached to her presence and miss her when she was gone. Wait for her to come back to you, when she suddenly disappeared at night after you fell asleep.

How many times have you woken up in the dark and waited for her appear to the first rays of the sun?

How many more excuses are you gonna need for your eyes bags, when people ask for them? When will you stop worrying others with your absent-minded behavior, often getting lost in your thoughts and falling asleep in a quiet corner at work?

“Demons don’t feel love or empathy, they’re monsters.” Someone told you once, and you took those words to heart. “Bloodthirsty beasts, who only want to quench their hunger.”

But are all demons really evil?

Are there any good demons?

You followed the girl coming down from the wooden beam with your eyes. Even though she smiled at you, you could tell she was nervous.

Is it because of that guy with the katana?

Suddenly, remembering something, you asked her putting away your packages of things you bought in the city on the table next to the fireplace.

“There's been some missing in the area lately… Do you know anything about that?”

Mukago seemed surprised by your question - she turned pale (although you didn’t expect it to be possible) and a smile faded from her face, replaced by the uncertainty you saw in her during your first conversation.

“Um, no. I don't think so. Why?”

It didn’t sound very convincing and all you could do, was take her word for it.

Some time ago a child went missing and was found after two days - he had lost into the woods and fallen into an old, but deep bear pit.

Luckily, the villagers found him safe and healthy (not counting the fear and hunger he must have felt during that time, as well as the numerous abrasions he made, when he tried to climb on the slippery rocks).

Mr. Bear was probably on a trip or was long dead, killed by hunters.

Missing husbands were found drunk in pubs, and and young womens were found with their chosen ones not accepted by their families.

But there were also unsolved disappearances, where no clues have been found to tell what might have happened to the missing.

You didn’t dwell on the subject and unpacked your bag, carefully placing its contents in a locker nearby. These included various spices, rice, bread and meat, in addition to seeds from your boss.

You might have gone a little crazy, because you had an unusual customer, who come to see you in the morning.

A mysterious black-haired man in western clothes entered the flower shop before the sun came up and asked your friend Misaki (who was standing behind the counter) about flowers. He wanted to buy something for his wife and daughter as an apology for spending so much time at work.

When she disappeared into the other side of the store behind one of the larger plants to bring ribbons to tie the flowers stems, you saw him looking around, although you could tell from his eyes that he was bored rather than curious.

His red irises wandered along the shelves with vases and multicolored plants without any reaction - none of them surprised or delighted him, as if he had seen them all more than once.

Well, this place certainly weren’t the only store selling exotic plants, there were more of them in Tokyo for sure. The only difference between you and them is the price - because your boss tried to grow most of them here, the prices were much lower than those in the center of the capital.

You barely managed to keep your eyes open, sitting where you usually sit hidden in a corner on the windowsill.

Monstera deliciosa - an ornamental plant, imported from distant exotic forests, with large leaves in the usual heart shape was the perfect cover for you. From behind its jagged leaves, you could see who was going in and out without fear of being noticed. You liked working here, but didn't always feel like dealing with customers.

Misaki, with her open and warm personality, was the perfect worker for such tasks and kind enough to let you laze in your corner. Unlike you, she was unfamiliar with growing plants and thought you were digging up in mud every day. So with minimal work you could have had extra hours of sleep or read a book, sometimes aloud to pass the time for both of you.

But now she is gone and your slumber was interrupted by an unexpected nice voice.

“Excuse me,” the client said with a polite expression. He had an even nicer, smooth face and a gentle smile. “I’m also looking for something for my mother’s grave. She died just a few days ago.”

Surprised, he’s addressing to you, you just pointed your finger at Spider Lily standing nearby. The slender flowers already had their characteristic upward spindly stamens and corrugated petals, giving them their unique charm. They attracted by their furiously red color that matched his irises.

That color spoke loudly: danger! They made you as anxious as when a man turned his attention to you.

You were disturbed, when he talked about his dead relative like he didn’t care what happened to her and how fast he was right next to you. You didn’t hear any footsteps or the creaking of the wooden floor under his weight.

Even more puzzling was how he could see you hidden behind many large leaves in a dark corner of the store.

You wanted Misaki to come back and take him away from you, but undeterred by your unkindness behavior, the man continued.

“Yes, I thought about it, but she didn’t like red. She associated it with bad luck.”

He spoke, looking at other flowers, but you still somehow felt his gaze on you. It was as if he was trying to keep you within the corner of his eye so you wouldn’t escape him.

You didn’t know what they were associating with for her, but from now on for you, they were with his eyes. Red as fresh blood.

“Is it available in blue?��

You swallowed your saliva with difficulty and nodded insecurely, when his cat’s pupils landed on you again without even turning his head towards you. You weren’t even sure you heard him right - he hypnotized you like a snake.

He finally turned his head to you and closed his eyes gently. It seemed to shine its own light. “Where are they?”

“We don’t have them right now… It’s very hard to grow and maintain them.”

You finally managed to gather inside enough to speak up and come out smoothly from an unconscious lie.

The man’s smiling expression turned to disappointment when he frowned. He pulled out a small leather purse from his pocket and handed it to you. The coins inside clinked pleasantly with every shake.

“Well, if you ever manage to grow them, could you keep them for me?”

At the same time Misaki returned from the warehouse with colored ribbons and decorative paper.

He immediately drew all his attention to her as if he had never spoken to you and composed with her advice one lovely, little bouquet for his wife and one for his daughter.

When he finally left, he didn’t ask for a refund or tell you how to notify him when the job will be done.

You felt like you made a deal with the devil and that it was too late to withdraw.

So you did some more shopping after work. Your boss let you go home earlier seeing your fatigue written on your face (again) and thought you were sick.

By the time you returned home, the sun was already slowly sinking into the west, even though it was still early. The charms of the coming winter.

That’s when you ran into the Demon Slayer. Hashira. You’ve occasionally seen low-ranking slayers in the city passing through or staying to take a break there, but you’ve only seen Hashira twice.

Your first meeting wasn’t the most pleasant, and if you could, you’d erase it from your memory.

It was a few years ago, when you still had no idea of the importance of their uniforms and demons walking among humans as myths inserted between other fairy tales.

But one unlucky night, your… friend was turned into a demon.

Terrified and badly wounded, she escaped from her home where the attack took place, but soon after, she was transformed into these things. Driven probably by hunger and instinct, she ran to you - to the place, where she felt most safe and where she knew, she could get help.

In the middle of the night you suddenly heard a loud sound, waking you from a deep sleep. Rubbing your eyes, you weren’t sure what it was until you heard it again.

It sounded more like the roar of a wounded animal than the weeping of a woman - through the thin walls you could hear her heavy gasp and squeak, when she stood in front of your house.

Why didn’t she attack you right away? Was she out of strength? Did she sense anything else? Something stronger than her?

Or was she fighting with herself?

Are there any good demons?

With the only weapon you had (and it was a metal fire poker) you opened the shōji door. There you saw in the full moonlight your friend lying in a pool of blood, curling in pain.

Without thinking, you ran to help her. Your head was empty, all you could think about was your friend. Wounded.

You didn't even have time to kneel beside her when she suddenly threw herself at you knocking you over onto the mud. You tried to push her away with a metal tool, but it was like a new force came into her.

Her jaw snapped in your face, almost biting your nose off. Saliva dripped from her mouth and chin splashing you, but you barely felt it.

Nor did you feel the strong gust of wind blowing her hair and knocking her head off her neck.

Suddenly she froze and her head hit you before fell to the ground next to you. Still on the poker, you held the rest of her inert body, which became even heavier.

“Oi, move.”

He said in a cold tone as he hid the katana in the cover - the green sheen of its blade blinded you for a second.

"Oi, you can't hear what I'm saying to you!? Get out of here!"

He saw you open and close your mouth before you muttered something, still in shock, looking back at the stagnant corpse in front of you.

“You...ed her... Mur...”

"Hmm?" He asked without hearing what you said. He sounded harsh and cold, like what he did was just killing a worm. "What?"

“A murder! You kill, killed her! Mur–!”

You weren't allowed to finish because a stranger punched you in the jaw and you fell face down again into the dirt beneath you mixed with her blood. Then stranger tugged you by the shoulder, dragging you to stand on your knees to look at him.

The air between you, besides the stench of blood, was filled with the strong smell of smoke and decomposing flesh.

"She wasn't a human anymore," he began unconsciously squeezing you by the shoulder and other hand. He almost broke your arm. You tried to wrestle, but you were too weak. "It's a demon!"

"No! It was–"

"It doesn't matter what or who she was to you before," he interrupted you violently and shook you again.

It made you feel some of the shock go away, allowing you to focus more on the man and the environment. You saw he was covered with numerous ugly scars. He reminded you of the monster the old women of your village warned about.

"Demons don't feel love or empathy, they're monsters. Bloodthirsty beasts who only want to quench their hunger."

When he let you go, you fell back to your knees. In an instant, your safe picture of the world crumbled into a million tiny pieces.

Tears slowly flowed into your eyes, but before they blurred your vision, you saw her body crumbling into dust.

Was that true or nightmare?

With nothing more to do for you, the man left. You didn't even notice, when he walked away from you. He left you alone to mourn your friend.

Although that's what he let you do.

Crying loudly, you didn't know what to do. You tried to lift her head, but you couldn't. You were still scared and shaking. You felt an invisible hand clutching your heart and throat as if it were about to crush them.

But you were still alive.

And she was falling apart right in front of you.

When the moon looked out from behind the thick clouds, you saw wet, shiny marks on her crumbling cheeks.

Are there good demons?

And when the sun came out of the horizon, there was nothing left of her but her bloody clothes. The only proof of what happened here.

After what happened and the mourning you shared with her family at the funeral, where you buried only her clothes, you wanted to know more.

You found out who white-haired man is and more about demons, but you didn't become a Demon Slayer.

The first ones killed your friend, the second hurt.

Since then, you've been trying to live your normal life, and you've started asking yourself...

Are there good demons?

You shake your head trying to get back to the present. That was long time ago, and you've get over with it, even though the memories still haunt you.

"I've brought some new seeds, but we'll probably plant them in the spring." You turned to the girl standing behind you.

She smiled at you gently nodding her head. Her silver hair swayed with her movement, reflecting the light of fire.

She looked amazing.

- - -

Your joint meeting was interrupted by a sudden knock and a vigorous shout of your name through the door.

It was Tanjiro Kamado.

Surprised by his visit, you went outside the cabin so he wouldn't see your guest. The snow fell quietly beneath your feet. In the mountains, winter came faster, and in the higher areas it can last even the whole year.

"Hello, Kamado-kun" you greeted him. The frost pinched your face and a small cloud of steam came out of your mouth. "What brings you here?"

"Ohayō!" Younger boy bowed to you. His nose, cheeks, and ears were fiercely red despite wearing a shawl on his head. "I thought you might be running out of coal and I wanted to see how you were doing."

Sweeten by his kindness and sincerity, you thanked him for his efforts. You both lived on the same mountain, but your cabin was on the other side. To reach it, he had to go down to the village, and then walk for a long time along a path circling the mountain before he started climbing again.

The road wasn't hard, but it was a long one, which is why you preferred to buy coal from him when you were downstairs so as not to bother him.

If you were alone, you'd have offered him in and tea. Maybe even the overnight stay, so he wouldn't have to come home in the dark and in the morning you would have escorted him to the village before you went to work.

"Oh, thank you. I'll pay you right away..."

You were reaching for your belt looking for a purse of money when suddenly he asked.

"Do you have a visitor?"

"Um, yes." You've been spin around trying to count the coins, but you've had a hard time doing it without feeling your fingertips.

You figured he must have sensed Mukago. The red-haired boy, as long as you can remember, had a perfect sense of smell. You wondered what exactly he sensed.

"The same one you took care of when she was sick?"

You nodded and didn't stop counting.

"What's she like?"

He asked unexpectedly. He knew a lot of smells, including the smell of human sadness, sorrow, or joy, but this one was completely new to him, so he couldn't determine who your mystery guest was.

"Oh, she's..." You've been thinking about trying to decide which term might best fit Mukago.

To a man-eating demon, who likes to wait for you in your attic. A demon who likes to watch you work on flowers and ask a lot of questions about them. A demon who, when she thinks you're asleep, strokes your hair or cheek gently.

"She's cute."

The boy nodded understandingly, knowing you were completely sincere. Then he stood with you for a while, trying to give you back some of the coins you gave him extra for coming all the way to your house, and you watched him leave happy.

The sun was half hidden behind the horizon and he didn't have time to get home before dark, but you weren't afraid for him. As far as you know, demons are very territorial, and Mukago's presence should deter weaker demons.

You didn't even think of the possibility that there might be a demon more powerful than her nearby...

But you weren't supposed to find out until the next morning from the other villagers and see two survivors disappear among the massacred bodies.

But that's not until tomorrow. Today, blissfully unaware, you returned to the inside of your home and your guest stiffly seated at your low table.

You could tell right away that she was more dreamy looking at you with her slightly spread lips showing white fangs, dilated pupils and...

You weren't sure, but is that the blush on her cheeks? She didn't hear you talking to Tanjiro, did she?

Right?

33 notes · View notes

thecandywrites · 2 years

Text

Zorroku and Peaches Part 5

That is really, the third part of part 3. Because part 3 is ENOURMOUS. There’s still a part four to part 3! People reading this right now are going- Wait! This isn’t what you originally put in these different parts! But I’m adding a LOT of new fun and tragic backstories! Also some Earth History to give this more depth and realism. Also face claims! So, of the three babies in the middle. Top left corner- Ori, under her is YakYak, look at that hair! Yalak and Grat’s son and that Hunky Baby is one of Silug’s sons. But also this black and white picture in the bottom right is to show how tiny Ori is when Peaches first meets her. For reference, that is a newborn, and Ori is supposed to be three months old at this point and was supposed to also at least double in size by then. So obviously, little baby Ori is very sick. And our reader is here to save her life.

Part 5

“Hey, Glasha, could you please help get my tent flap, would you?" You requested with a giggle of your own as she helped you into your own tent where Razor was still happily chewing down on his horse steak.

"Ok, everyone on the couch." You urged and they obeyed before you sat at your new desk and got some paper and a quill and an ink well and got ready to write some correspondence.

"You can stay and hang out if you want." You offered to Glasha, wanting to keep some company just in case you got any visitors in the form of Yotul and her sons who didn’t like you, you'd have a witness to whatever would happen.

"Well actually I was going to go get some snacks for the ravens, but when I come back I'll hang out with you." Glasha offered before she quickly left and tried to get as many scraps left over from dinner together as she could.

Then she returned with a bowl of them before she pulled up a chair across from the couch where all the ravens were perched on various cushions and such when they weren’t outright playing on the furniture. And the others were outright wandering around and inspecting the tent themselves. She fed the ravens as you called them each by name over to your desk to take the messages in the little holders off the raven's legs to read them, and then write down your reply on the back. You talked to the ravens and they talked back like parrots.

Glasha was completely tickled to witness and giggled even more. Especially when they talked to her too and said 'thank you' to her for feeding them, before talking to her the way they talked to you. You insisted to them that she was a friend to them as they hopped up on her lap and shoulders and arms and soaked up her affections in the form of pets and scratches, the same way they often laid on their back to get tummy scratches from you with one hand while your wrote from the other.

"So what do they say?" Glasha asked curiously as she nodded over to the correspondence.

"They're all asking the same thing, ‘if your family has mistreated me yet’." You answered honestly as you soon got tired of writing the same thing over and over again.

"And what's your answer?" Glasha asked cautiously.

"The answer is of course 'no'. I mean Yotul doesn’t like me, and I completely understand her feelings towards me. Some of your brothers hate me so much they refuse to talk to me. But that's fine by me. If they keep their distance, it would be ideal and what I would prefer them to do." You answered honestly before you cooed to the ravens.

"No, they haven't mistreated me at all! They've all been so good to me! Yes they have!" You cooed to ravens in the same cooing tone you would use with an infant. You pet the ravens affectionately as they soaked up your affections like a sponge as the others hopped around your tent, cawing 'big tent!' and 'nice tent!' the whole time which had cracked Glasha up when they first started doing that.

"What?! Which brothers?" Glasha gasped in horror.

"Uh well, I'm pretty sure I'd be raped by Winag and Silug if they got half a chance- by the way they keep staring at me like a hungry dog looks at a steak. Yalak, Grushnag and Murnag refuse to say one word to me at all. Which I get and understand. Your father told me I could choose whoever I wanted without asking them. And most, if not all orcs, or at least all the ones I’ve met before today- think and feel that humans are inferior. And I'd be pissed off too if my father agreed to have me married off to people I viewed as inferior without asking me first." You explained, feeling you could be safe with being yourself and being blunt and honest with Glasha.

"Ok, you're right about Winag and Silug. They are my half brothers and they look forward to demanding sexual intimacy from their conquests the most. And every bedroom servant they have has been a past conquest that they’ve liked enough to keep around. And they keep insisting it isn’t rape because they pay them all very well for thier “service”. But honestly, I don’t see them giving any of them much of a choice about it. Especially when every time they do it, they get a kid from it. But neither Winag or Silug will marry any of them and none of the servants are orc and no woman in the clan will go near them. They claim they just like to have intimacy with smaller women because they like the feel of it better. Or at least, that’s what I’ve told them tell my father when he’s asked them about it. And my father doesn’t approve of them doing it. And it was only Yotul’s demands that Silug be a Warchief that he was made a Warchief at all, otherwise my father claims that only Zorroku has earned that status. Because otherwise my father had refused to promote them because he didn’t feel that their behavior outside of battle warranted the promotion.” Glasha explained as you nodded and hummed in understanding.

“Honestly, I don't think they know how to fuck unless it's that way. They love to make their bedroom servants beg for it too so they can get paid to care for themselves. Because Silug and Winag only like to pay for their servants' bare minimum needs like clothing, food and shelter. But anything extra, they have to earn. As if those girls bearing them sons and daughters isn’t enough. Honestly it’s all Yotul’s influence. My mother Sharn, had she lived beyond giving birth to the twins, never would have put up with it. And she refused to have any man even accused of taking a woman without her freely given consent in her tent. And they had better be a full blown woman and not anything remotely girl like. And my mother and my father agreed against not letting such men be kept as a captain or a commander or anything like that in the clan’s army.” Glasha proudly revealed.

“But that changed when my mother died and Yotul became the Clan Chieftess. It’s like slowly but surely, her influence has seeped into her children, especially her sons and then the rest of the clan. And to hear those servants of Silug and Winug beg to have that intimacy delivered nicely and softly too- makes my skin crawl. Because I know my mother would be rolling in her grave if she knew what was really happening. Otherwise I’ve overheard those poor girls whimper and cry because of how rough my half brothers can be. It's honestly so disgusting. And I would advise you to stay away from them as much as you can and never be alone with them. I mean, they're my half brothers- and they look at me like that sometimes and it's so gross.” Glasha shuddered as she gagged and made a disgusted face.

“My father doesn’t approve of them and thier lifestyle off of the battlefield. And he’s tried to set the matter right and he’s tried disciplining them but Yotul gets in his way and insists that they never do anything wrong. Because so far Yotul has allowed it because most of them have been human so far, but she insists that they never treat an orcish woman like that. And she has told them that ‘no son or daughter of hers should ever marry a human’ and they’ve listened to her. But because of it, no other orc woman will go near them- because of their overabundance of bedroom servants and overabundance of half orc children. My father has made them all recognize as their children even if they refuse to marry their mothers. And my father specifically makes sure that the ones who have given children are at least taken care of better than the ones who have not. And that all their children are taken care of very well by recognizing them as his grandchildren to the clan and recognizing their mothers as the ones who beared those grandchildren to him. And honestly I think it’s only because he has done this that they stay at all. He treats them and their children with the same love and care he does my sisters in law and all of their children and my other nieces and nephews.” Glasha confirmed.

“I see.” You nodded in understanding.

“But where you're wrong is Yalak and the twins- Grushnag and Murnag. None of them hate you. The truth is they're all scared and intimidated by you." She elaborated and you blinked in surprise at that which prompted Glasha to explain.

“Really?” You asked, not quite believing her.

"So Yalak is naturally really quiet and actually quite shy. Because he likes to watch and observe a lot and try to figure everything and everyone out before he does or says anything. So he's still trying to figure you out by observing you. His wife Grat had no idea he was even interested in her- until he had to outright explain why he was chasing off every guy who was interested in her. Because he secretly loved her and had a crush on her but was too shy to say anything to her. But once she got him to open up, then he wouldn’t shut up unless she shut him up by kissing him. And they have two sons and a daughter now.” Glasha related.

“I see.” You nodded.

“Grushnag and Murnag, the twins, they’re my baby brothers. My mom actually died trying to give birth to them because both of them were huge babies. And Yotul had just given birth to Yalak like a few days before. So Yalak and the twins have actually been raised as triplets by Yotul. They're just really shy, even more shy than Yalak ever was. And the twins know they're kinda ugly, and they have low self esteem because of it. And you're beautiful, and they think they're unworthy of you. Because not only are you smart, and clever, and talented, and gifted, but you're really beautiful too. And they're really insecure. They're the ones who picked out your bed and the furs and a few of the interior decorations where Zorroku got the tent and the rest of your stuff that didn't come with you. Nar got you the desk and all the books though. Because he insisted that you have a library. But the clan as a whole doesn’t usually go after books and usually the books are discarded when whole chests are taken. So he collected all the ones that the horde had.” Glasha explained as she pointed to them.

“And Grat was the one who insisted on you having as many dressers and armoires as she does. Because again, she’s a Marfu Daughter, just like you. And when she married Yalak, she wasn’t used to the way my father treated her or especially the way Yalak treated her. Because he has adored her for so long and once he was free to show his adoration, he very quickly and easily overwhelmed her with gifts. Like just daily, almost hourly gifts. So my father asked her and my other sisters in law to help you not feel so overwhelmed. Which she very happily agreed to as did all the others. Especially since Grat and all the others came from other clans too. And none of them were used to women being treated so well as my father demands women be treated well in his Clan. Because he claims that ‘a man who can not treat his wife with honor, has no honor himself’. And she and the others were shocked when you brought so few clothes with you. So she made sure that you got a lot of dressers and armoires and fabric to make new clothes with.” Glasha explained as you were relieved when that part of your dream was false. Because you had met Grat and she was awesome and just as much of an easy and quick friend to you as Glasha was becoming and had hugged you and called you ‘Marfu!’ when she got to greet you and made sure to point out all the other Marfus in the family who greeted you just as happily and warmly and really made you feel welcome and they helped this whole situation feel much more normalized and more real instead of surreal. As if Crowthu and his sons regularly just rode all night just to find daughters in law.

“So the twins will be doing the furs of your bucks and wolves for you. Because they're awkward talkers, but they're better at showing their affection by doing nice things for people. They really are nice and they don’t have any bedroom servants. But either of them could get just about any other woman in the clan if they wanted to. And the few who have expressed an interest in them, they feel like it’s not genuine. And that it’s only because they’re the sons of the warchief and the last sons of my mother that they get the interest at all.” Glasha revealed.

“I see.” You nodded in understanding as you made a mental note to make an effort with them and at least draw them out and help them with their self confidence the way you had with Nar and Shuzug.

“But you have to get under all the awkwardness first. And if you have genuine feelings of affection for them, make sure to tell them and show them that explicitly. Even if it’s friendship. They’ll appreciate anything and everything. Especially since Yotul has usually saved her heart and her affections for her own sons she gave birth to. So while she nursed them, she didn’t quite love them the way she loved Yalak. And the twins have always felt like they’ve been a burden to her and they never wanted to be a burden to anyone. And while they’ve struggled with a lot of guilt, because my mother died trying to give birth to them. My father has made sure to never tell them that he ever blamed them for her death. And that women die from childbirth all the time and it was just as honorable and glorious as dying on the battlefield. And he has always told them that they were the best and last gifts my mother ever gave him. And just like with Zorroku, he has made special efforts with them and my other sisters that my mother Sharn gave birth to.” Glasha explained, her voice going soft with a bittersweetness in her eyes.

“I take it your father still misses Sharn.” You ventured.

“He does, every day. He claims that I look just like her and that’s why he has chased off every man who has ever taken an interest in me and my other full sisters, because he feels I and my full sisters are the last but biggest pieces of her left. And he still tries to honor her and her memory by honoring us. He always gives me, and my full sisters the very best in everything he ever takes in raids. He makes sure we are always fed until we’re stuffed, always clothed in the best fabrics and the best shoes and the best…everything.” Glasha related.

“My father worked so hard to earn my mother’s love, and respect and loyalty. And he gave those things so freely to her. She was from the Mountain Blizzard Clan. They’re a clan known for their ice blue skin and white, light blue and light green hair, like I have. That clan always keeps itself up in the mountains. And they actually met by a total accident on a hunting trip when my father’s hunting party and my mother’s hunting party were hunting the same grounds. She was hunting from the back of an giant ice dog. A breed that the orcs in the mountains have bred to be especially large, large enough to ride. And fast enough, even when pulling a load, that they could get from one side of the mountain to the other in just a day. And the moment my father saw her, he did everything in his power to do whatever he could to court her.” Glasha sighed dreamily at the memories of her parents telling her all about it.

“It’s why we have so much pink salt from the mountains. Because it’s the one clan my father happily does trade with as often as we can, and never raids on. I have a grandmother and all kinds of cousins and uncles and aunts in that clan that are my mother’s mother, and her old brothers and sisters and their children. And the reason our clan treats women so well is because in the Mountain Blizzard Clan- women are seen as very magical creatures, owed every respect and dignity because they are the ones who bear and nurse offspring and keep them warm and are the spiritual heads of the family. Men just hunt and kill food and get furs. But women turn those furs into clothes and take a house and turn it into a home. It’s women who can take those kills and make real food out of them. It’s women who give men a reason to live and a reason to get out of the bed to do anything. It’s women who provide children and provide a man with a family and help him grow spiritually and draw closer to the gods. And it’s women who can never be replaced.” Glash revealed as she couldn’t help but get misty eyed just talking about it.

“And it’s women like Yotul who tear down everything that women like my real mother build up. She is the only one in the entire clan who doesn't like you. I don't know what her problem is. Just ignore her, she'll get over whatever problems she has and it’s not on you to prove her wrong assumptions about you either. I mean her problems have to be with humans in general. Because she has no reason to be that hateful towards you. She shamed and dishonored my father and the rest of the family and the clan by not giving you a proper greeting. And by just outright stealing your spice without asking. And you should be getting an apology from her sooner than later.” Glasha insisted.

“It’s ok if she doesn’t apologize to me. I understand her reasons for not liking me.” You assured her.

“Well, do you know what they are? Because she won’t tell anyone what they are. All she has said is that ‘if you’re who she thinks you are, you’re dangerous’. Which Arob keeps repeating that you’re not, but she won’t believe my grandma. My grandma told us all that ‘you’re family found’. And Yotul spent all day making sure the tent was spotless, making sure the best incense was burning in all the incense burners.That the best horse was butchered and roasted to perfection and the biggest onions were roasted with it. She was wearing one of her best dresses and she was so happy and excited all day. But my father said that the moment you walked in, all her joy and happiness was immediately switched to hate. Why is that?” She asked you.

“It’s not my place to say. And if she is not comfortable talking about it, I won’t do her the dishonor of revealing anything she wants to keep private. But if she hasn’t talked about it. Please don’t push her. She has every reason to hate all humans. And she has every reason to hate me if that’s what your grandmother told her. Now I can say, I am not who she probably thinks I am. And I do not mean this family and especially Yotul any harm whatsoever. But I will not force her to see that. All I can do is prove who I am over time so that she can see it for herself with her own eyes. But until she’s ready to know who I really am. I’m not going to try to convince her. And right now, if I tried, she’d probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. And that’s ok. I’m content to give her all the time and space she wants and needs. She deserves that. And she deserves to have her feelings validated and respected. Even if she wasn’t a Clan Cheiftess. Even if she was just a clan member, she deserves that much.” You gently insisted.

“But that shouldn’t excuse her rudeness.” Glasha frowned and shook her head no.

“Please, just, I know you’ve only just met me. But trust me on this. When and if you ever find out about the matter, you’ll understand. But only when Yotul is ready to discuss it herself. Not a moment before then.” You urged her as your pen was already writing Bula about Yotul because if anyone needed to know the truth, it was Bula, Khagra’s wife and Clan Chieftess.

“Well, still, my father told us about the special conditions you have. Which is fine, it shouldn't have been a problem to begin with. But I understand that you've met and hosted almost every clan on the continent and even some farther than that. And every orc clan is different and if all you knew about us was our reputation, I could see where you would draw certain conclusions..." Glasha explained.

“Well I’m happy to be wrong. But I am curious about how Yotul came to be in this clan and came to be it’s Clan Chieftess.” You prompted.

"Oh, um about 20 years ago she was traded into this clan from the Yellow River Clan. But she doesn't speak their language well, she's taught us Yowl and often slips into Yowl when she's angry or upset or worried. But I don't know who else speaks Yowl so maybe she was traded to them from somewhere else. I don't know. She's like an onion, she has many layers of...I don't know, she's a hard woman to get to know because she just doesn't like to talk about herself or her past before coming into the clan." Glasha answered and you nodded in understanding.

"Could you tell me more about about your mother?" You asked her hopefully.

"Oh my mother was my father’s Warcheiftess under his father when his father was the Clan Chief. And when my grandfather stepped down, and appointed my father as Clan Chief, that made her his Clan Chieftess. She was his first wife and she’s the mother to Zorroku, myself, my sister Morn and the twins. But again, she died giving birth to the twins. And when my mother died and Yotul immediately took on the twins, that's when Yotul became Clan Chieftess and adopted Zorroku, myself and Marn too. And my father has never remarried again." Glasha informed you as you realized she had an accent you recognized.

"Your mother was Sharnarrah The Magnificent of the Mountain Blizzard Clan wasn’t she?” You concluded.

“Yes! You knew her?” Glasha asked excitedly.

“I didn’t know her personally, but I knew of her. Is your name really just Glasha or is that short for something else?” You asked her.

“It’s Glashnarah!” Glasha revealed excitedly as her mother’s native tongue’s accent became thicker and put such a beautiful accent to her speech as your eyes got bigger in realization as you realized what Sharn had done.

“If you’re Glashnarah, then would Marn be short for Marnasta?” You asked as you tried not to cry again but kept your tone light and curious.

“Yes!” Glasha practically squalled.

“And Zorroku is actually Zorroushku?” You asked, not quite wanting to believe the coincidence.

“Yes!” Glasha nodded excitedly.

“And the twins names are Grushnaga and Murnagah?” You asked.

“Yes! How did you know that?” Glasha asked in awed wonder.

“Your mother was Sharnarrah The Magnificent, so named because she rode a white major wolf named Lightning who was just as white as the snow and especially large. And she was both a magnificent beauty and a magnificent warrior and protector of all women and children. She was the most beautiful warrior of the whole clan. I know of her, because when the Mountain Blizzard Clan came and made an alliance with us, or at least with the Black Wolf White Rock Clan and specifically with Khagra's father for that same pink salt from the mountains. Khagra did everything he could to woo her. Even though he wasn't of age yet and already had his Clan Chieftess, waiting to grow up and mature to be ready to be married too. My mother, Regina, was one of Shanarrah’s servants, Shanarrah’s mother Jaseen saved my mother when she was a girl, and helped raised her, almost like she was one of her own. And my mother fell in love with my father and stayed in the Black Wolf White Rock Clan with him, much to Jaseen and Shanarrah’s disapproval. But my mother has always remembered her really well and has always spoken of her in awed reverence and my full name is Belladonna, I’m named after Shanarrah’s favorite flower because not only is it a beautiful flower, but it was deadly, just like my mother claimed Shanarrah was. How did your father manage to woo Sharnarrah?" You asked in awe.

"Oh he got her a herd of silvery white draft horses once her wolf, Lightning, died. And he taught all of them to take a rider and all of them to obey the same commands my mother was used to giving Lightning." Glasha revealed and you nodded in understanding.

"So how well do you speak Ragash?" You asked in Ragash, the native dialect of the Mountain Blizzard Clan and Glasha visibly lit up brighter than the sun and practically bounced in her seat and started going on and on and started talking so fast you could barely keep up with her as you finished up your correspondence and simply listened in amusement.

“That’s how you’re family found! Your mother knew mine! You speak Ragesh! Oh my father is going to be so happy!” Glasha squealed in delight before urged the ravens to go home while Glasha and yourself continued to talk and get to know each other better, using Ragesh which was your mother tongue because it was your mother’s native tongue as you never thought you’d speak this beautiful language again.

You realized it must have been fate to bring you here and to bring you to Crowthu and his children by Sharnarrah and while you were heartbroken that she had passed. This felt just as wonderful when Sharnarrah’s brother’s came to do trading in the clan and talked with your mother and you and your siblings because Jaseen was so hurt by your mother’s choosing your father over her that she refused to leave the mountain until your mother would “come home” to her. But your mother had a family of her own and her own place with Khagra and his family and his clan and insisted that she was just fine where she was.

But Jaseen often asked about you and what little, meager possessions you brought with you from home had been gifts by your adopted grandmother Jaseen who you had never met. Jaseen insisted on not giving you anything too big or too rich because she didn’t want Khagra or his family or anyone else to take it from you. And when you had been technically made a Borgan, you had been invited to come to her and her clan. But by then, you were too close with Khagra and his family to do so. You wanted to find a way to send a message to Jaseen and her family to tell them where to find you now. And to come to see you since you doubted you were free to go and see them because Crowthu did trade 32 servants for you and their weight in pink salt and adopted you as his daughter. One you doubted he’d be ok with letting go just as he secured you.

“How often does the Mountain Blizzard Clan come here or does this clan go up to the mountain to do business?” You asked her.

“Oh our winter grounds are at the base of the mountain that the Mountain Blizzard Clan calls home. I can send a message tonight to them to tell them that you’re here. They will come as soon as they can. I had no idea your mother was so close to them. They will be delighted to know that you’re a Marfu daughter here.” Glasha insisted.

“Thank you.” You thanked her before she beckoned you to her tent and immediately wrote a note to her grandmother and all of her uncles and aunts and told them that ‘Balladonna, daughter of Regina was now her father’s latest Marfu Daughter from the Black Wolf White Rock Clan and that you wanted to see them and speak with them as soon as they were able to and that you spoke Ragesh fluently’. Once she was done with the message, she put it onto a messenger pigeon and sent it off to the Mountain.

“There, they’ll get that by sunrise for sure and we’ll hear back from them by midday at the latest.” Glasha giggled gleefully before she hugged you.

“Oh it’s like I’m hugging another sister! This is awesome! I’m so happy you’re my family found!” Glasha almost cried as she happily hugged you as tight as she dared.

“Likewise Glashnarrah.” You cooed back to her.

"So, anyway, back to my father’s clan. In the Thunder Herd Clan we have four meals a day. A late breakfast, because we usually like to stay up late and sleep in late, lunch, dinner and the midnight meal, which is our biggest meal of the day, think of it as a second dinner and it's the one that’s being prepared right now," Glasha said.

“Well let’s go.” You urged her before you followed Glasha into the kitchen tent as she brought you around the kitchen itself and showed you what was what and what they had to work with. You began to find your bearings again as well as show you the small mountain of peaches from home. Then you pulled your ingredients out from your food satchel. And showed your new 'sisters' what you've brought and what you used to make that spice blend you made earlier.

Suddenly Zorroku and his brothers came into the kitchen, carrying a cut up horse carcass and put it on a leather blanket in the middle of the cooking tent and at least with the skin off, it kinda of looked like a cow....with a giant neck... and a horse's head…. But thankfully the hooves and everything below the knee had been cut off already. You put the back of your hand to your mouth to keep from vomiting at the thought of a baby horse being slaughtered even though this was clearly an adult. You could only hope that it had lived a good life and that its death was as quick and painless as possible.

"Did you sleep ok Peaches?" Zorroku asked you hopefully and you were surprised to hear him speak to you again.

"Yes, thank you Zorroushku." You answer as you nodded and tried to smile bravely in the face of a dead horse on the floor in front of you.

“How did you know my full name?” Zorroku asked in awed wonder as his other siblings, except for Glasha froze and stared at you with the same, wide eyed wonder.

“My mother is Regina, she was a servant of Shanarrah The Magnificent and she grew up in the Mountain Blizzard Clan. But your mother’s mother- Jaseeneh, who when my mother left that clan, was the Clan Chieftess, took my mother in when she was very young and raised her as her own and my mother was close to both Clan Chieftess to Jaseenah, your mother Shanarrah, her brother’s Dastaneh, Justinough. My full name is Belladonna Gardiniah, both were your mother’s favorite flowers, not because they were just beautiful and have beautiful scents, but Belladonna is especially poisonous and deadly. My twin sister’s name is Lillyannah Valleyah, also a beautiful but deadly flower. My baby sister’s names are Hyacintha and Callalilliannah, Jaseeneh’s favorite but also deadly flowers. My brothers are also named Dastaneh and Justinough after Shanarrah’s brothers because they were like brothers to my mother also. We call them by simply Dastan and Justin though, and I’m simply Bella, Lilly, Scintha and Calla. My father is a twin, thus my brothers, myself and all my sisters are twins too.” You explained in Ragesh as Zorroku’s eyes and his siblings eyes got bigger and wider as smiles bloomed on their faces.

“So it would make sense that your mother named you Zorroushku,” you nodded to him before you turned to his siblings.

“Glashnarrah, Marnausta, Grushnagah, Murnagah.” You listed off as you made sure to look each of them in the eye as you said their names as the boys were already quickly washing the blood off of themselves. But the moment you started speaking perfect, fluent Ragesh to them, they turned to you and came closer but you didn’t feel as if you were being surrounded in an attacking sense but soon encompassed before they all came in and hugged you tight as the twins and Marn were outright crying while Glasha and Zorroku were laughing as you were in the middle of a group hug.

“Thank you so much for coming! Thank you so much for speaking Ragesh to us! Yotul doesn’t like it when we speak it because she doesn’t and she doesn’t like it that she can’t understand everything we say so we have had to speak either in Pregu, Yowl or the common tongue since Mom died! You speak it so well!” Marnasta bawled into your shoulder.

“See! That’s how she’s family found! She’s family found to us!” Glasha insisted as Marnausta especially was hugging you the tightest and crying on your shoulder because it felt like having a piece of her mom back as the twins were in a similar state.

“Hey, as much as I love this, I need to breathe.” You squeaked as the air was literally being squeezed out of you before they let go but stayed close.

“Sorry.” They all apologized as they wiped the tears from their eyes.

"If you need or want anything let me know, ok?" Zorroku offered before the twins volunteered the same thing, asking if you wanted the alters to the gods the Mountain Blizzard worshiped to be brought to your tent which you happily accepted before the twins and Marnausta immediately left and got things that their grandmother and uncles and aunts had given them and that they had kept from their mother to bring to your tent to reconnect you to your true roots.

"Actually I brought you a guitar because you like music so much." Yalak offered as he pushed past Zorroku and presented you with a guitar that was wrapped up in a little blanket as you watched Zorroku's face scrunch up in jealousy which was curious to you.

"Oh wow, uh, thank you," You thanked him graciously as you took it from him, not wanting to offend him by refusing it from him.

"Uh, I just don't remember Clan Chief Khagra or my father telling you that I played guitar...out loud." You mumbled under your breath as you unwrapped it, realizing it was actually a very fine one.

"Wow, this is exquisite, thank you." You thanked Yalak earnestly, this was so surreal to you as you put the guitar's strap over your shoulder and tested the chords before Nar made his way to you too.

"But I brought you a little one." Nar said as he came forward and offered you something else. Being the youngest and the smallest of them all, he looked to be about 12 or 13, just reached maturity and his full height. The beginnings of facial hair seemed to bloom on his face too.

You carefully took the guitar off and set it down on the counter gently and carefully and took what he offered you, it was also wrapped in a nice little blanket and when you unwrapped it, you found a violin case. Inside the case was a very fine violin with its bow and a thing of resin for the bow strings.

"Oh my goodness, it's a violin! Thank you so much! I love the violin." You beamed, this was...so not real. But as much as you wanted to panic, you kept repeating the words ‘marfu daughter’ inside your head as an explanation.

You put the violin to your shoulder as they all looked at you curiously as you ran the bow over the strings. You began to play a melody before they all lit up as they recognized what you were playing, a very old lullaby that Sharn always sang before you moved from that one to another old lullaby Yotul always sang to them in her native dialect Yowl. Nar left and fetched his mother who came into the kitchen tent and stared in shock as you played the song so well. She hadn't heard it played on a violin in a long time, since she herself had never learned the instrument.

"Where did you learn that song?!" She demanded as tears welled in her eyes and you dropped the violin to your side and hid it behind you to save it from her smashing it. Since it seemed she was now angry with you as if you had been caught doing something wrong. You watched as her sons and daughters moved between the two of you to keep her from getting close to you.

"You are Yotul Koddeth of the Great Typhoon Breaker Clan from the high North. Your mother is Veggo Koddeth and your father was The Great and Mighty Clan Chief Krul Koddeth, a family name that had lasted four generations. He was a king among Clan Chiefs and it was he who had taught Clan Chief Khagra and his father the art of alliances over war when Clan Chief Khagra was a very young boy.” You began to explain as Yotul was too stunned to argue with you when her mother and her father’s name was spoken with so much reverence on your tongue. She couldn’t be upset by your praise of her father. Or that you were speaking Yowl so beautifully and fluently.

“But it wasn’t until Clan Chief Krul Koddeth was betrayed by his brother and your uncle Tangir The Bone Splitter who earned that name by splitting your father's skull in front of you and your sister and your mother because she had not given your father any sons yet. And just because your mother had not gotten the chance to give your father sons- was the biggest reason your piece of shit uncle had for overthrowing your family’s dynasty. Especially since he had three sons but by three different women, all of whom were human. And their own jealous hunger for power over your mother- pushed them to push Krul to muder his own brother despite not having the blessing from his father or anyone outside of his own warband. Since he had not even been promoted to Warchief. Only leader of a warband. He then must have sold you off, until you came into the Yellow River Clan before you were then traded to the Thunder Herd Clan. But that is all anyone here knows of what has happened to you since your father died and you came to be here.” You explained.

“But after that piece of shit Tangir sold you, your uncle sold your sister Bula to Khagra as a wife when he was only six and she was only five so you must have only been seven when you were sold. Your own mother was sold as Khagra’s family’s babysitter and caretaker and medicine woman. It is your mother and sister who taught me your mother tongue Yowl. It is they who have taught me your culture and this song and many other songs and legends from the Great Typhoon Breaker Clan and so many seafood dishes. Even though seafood is hard to come by inland. I played this song, hoping to remind you that you are not alone. And that your past, even as hurtful as it has been- is important and should be embraced rather than buried. Just because of your piece of shit uncle and his family. Your family is not forgotten and lives on and is thriving!” You announced as Yotul gasped softly but began crying tears of joy to hear it as she slowly weaved through her children to get closer to you to hear everything you would say. Not wanting to miss a single word.

“I know that Crowthu’s mother has told you that I am ‘family found’. And I know when you first saw me and saw that I was human, I know that you must have assumed that I was a descendant of your waste of orcish flesh uncle. But I can say with a clean conscience and full faith that I am of no relation at all to him. Because not one of them has remained alive- since Khagra claimed Bula as his wife. And his wedding present to her was to put Tangir and all of his wives and all of their offspring to death. So that only your father’s bloodline has survived and will walk on the ground and bless it with it’s presence. Khagra himself has seen to it and was his first act as Warchief. And Bula is his one and only wife and was his Warchieftess when he became a Warchief for his father. And then when his father and the entire clan appointed Khagra as Clan Chief, Bula became his Clan Chieftess and she is the most revered woman in the clan, the strongest and most powerful in the clan. The most amazing, and wonderful in the clan. And Khagra drapes her with as much luxury as he can afford and loves every child she has ever bore him, no matter the gender because she and all of their children are his most precious possessions. To the point that he happily let me go to an unknown clan, just to keep Bula and their family in safety and in peace at home. And I am so blessed he did because this was the only way for me to find you. It is you who is Clan Chieftess Bula’s- family found. It is you who is Dowager Clan Warchieftess Viggo’s- family found. Clan Chief Khagra has no other children other than the ones Bula has given him and their children are your own nieces and nephews! Clan Chief Khagra does not even take female slaves for himself just to protect all of his affections to keep them purely for his most beloved wife. He wears them as his armor for his heart, mind and soul.” You earnestly revealed, a proud smile on your lips as you knelt on the floor and bowed your head respectfully. But you felt it was now or never for you to tell her the truth.

“I have helped your sister birth your nieces and nephews. I have cared for them as if they were my siblings and they are my dearest friends in the world, especially the youngest Shuzug. I have even helped deliver your own nieces and nephew’s children, Bula’s own grandchildren and your mother’s great grandchildren. Everything that I know about food, childcare and medicine I have learned from your own mother’s hands and mouth, and your own sister’s hands and mouth. I have helped care for Clan Chieftess Bula and her family since infancy. And knowing about that piece of shit Tangir- I understand your hatred for humans must be because of him. And I understand why you have forbidden your own children from taking a human as a mate. Because Bula has done the same. To guard against the past repeating itself. And I swear on the life of your sister and your mother, their children and grandchildren- that I too will guard against that part of your past repeating for either you or your children, whether you have birthed them or not. Or even for your grandchildren and great grandchildren, may you be blessed to see them some day.” You swore.

“Even though I am not of your blood, I have been placed in your family. Both your past family and your current one. I know I am unworthy of the honor that is being in your family. Your mother and your sister have never once stopped hoping you had survived and done well and they offer prayers on your behalf every worship day and I have grown up hearing your name and knowing it as well as I have my own. Your mother has remarried, to one of Khagra’s older Warchief’s when his father appointed him. Dowager Warchieftess Veggo is the second wife of Warchief Tatcha. And she remains his one and only wife since he too lost his first in childbirth and she took on his baby. And thus took him and the rest of his children on as well. You now have a half brother and a half sister in the Black Wolf White Rock Clan from Warchief Tatcha. However I don't believe your sister knows that you are now the Clan Chieftess of the Thunder Herd Clan. Because Clan Chief Khagra and Clan Chief Crowthu never mentioned who they were married to and other than Khagra introducing your sister only as his Clan Chieftess, I don’t think Bula recognized any of your sons as her nephews. And I don't know if your own sons recognized their aunt or their cousins. They didn't seem like they did when they met them.” You explained as all of Yotul’s sons groaned when they realized that they were looking right at their aunt and didn’t see her resemblance to their own mother.

“Now they do.” Zorroku muttered to you with a happy smile to see Silug, Wing, Yalak and Nar groan as realization seemed to hit them like a ton of bricks.

“But I know your mother and sister will be very pleased to know how well you've done by getting this far. But if you also hate me for other reasons, I understand. Just because I was able to make one good meal, things are being handed to me whereas you've had to work hard for everything you have. Please, understand I have had no choice in this and am trying to make the best out of everything. But with your permission I would like to tell your mother and sister exactly where you, their lost daughter and sister can be found." You bravely professed in Yowl, as you knelt down and bowed your head respectfully.

You were half expecting her to cut it off or for her to call you a liar or that you were actually Tangir’s blood. You could hear small gasps from Yotul’s children who had gathered around you to protect you from their mother as you closed your eyes. Tears fell from them as you tried to embrace death. You had connected all the dots from everything your new father in law told you and one look at her you knew exactly who she was. Even if she did not want to admit it.

"She's a Clan Chieftess too? Bula is a Clan Chieftess like I am?" Yotul asked in Yowl back. She couldn’t help but laugh in delight as she just couldn't stop smiling while crying tears of joy and relief. It surprised you greatly, having expected to be cut down where you knelt or screamed at for defaming her native tongue by presuming to speak it to her based on her reaction to you earlier.

"Yes, she has four daughters and had- had, five sons. But the oldest two unfortunately died in the last raid. So now she only has three sons. The middle, who is now considered the eldest, by the name of Grecko, he has two wives, they're twins themselves and both orcs and he has 4 kids, two sets of twins, a set of girls and a set of boys who are almost a year old now, their names are..." You began to list off all her family from the Black Wolf White Rock Clan before she came nearer to you. Yotul’s children warily parting for her before she gently picked you up to stand on your feet before moving your chin to look up at her as she couldn’t stop smiling and couldn’t stop crying either which got you to cry as you continued to talk and tell her about a family which she never knew she had.

"And your youngest nephew, he's ten now, Shuzug, has a penchant for peaches, he can eat a whole bushel all by himself." You finished off before she hugged you tightly and started sobbing and laughing herself.

"Gods I usually hate it when my mother in law is right and I’m wrong. But I am so happy to be wrong about you, my beloved daughter! If Bula called you her daughter I will see you as my own to, if at the very least, my niece. And you are now just as beloved in my heart as my own daughters are. When Arob said I would be getting family back as a daughter in law, and when I saw you were human- I did think you were my uncle's child or grandchild that just didn't look very orc. Which was why I was so inexcusably rude to you and I was so scared that you were going to do to my sons what that piece of shit’s bitches did to him! And I am so sorry, I should have asked. I should have let you explain who you really were and the whole situation instead of jumping to the wrong conclusions. I am so sorry! Thank you so much for telling me all of this. I never imagined it would be like this or could be like this. Just for you to tell me about them makes me feel whole and less lonely and closer to them now than I have since I parted from them." Yotul cried happily as she was almost squeezing the breath out of you again. Glasha took the violin and its bow from your hands so you could hug her step mother back fully.

"Next time your husband goes there, go with him. They'll all be very happy to see you again." You offered as you hugged her back as tight as you could.

"You and your sister look a lot alike, you'll have to forgive me if I call you by your sister's name by accident." You admitted.

That got Yotul to laugh and her kids to relax before they went to their father and reported how you had revealed you were family found to Yotul and why she hated the sight of you because you were human and what past you had uncovered. Crowthu felt like an ass for being so hard on Yotul without letting Yotul explain her reaction either.

Then Glasha revealed to her father and her grandmother your connection to her own mother, Sharnarrah. And the fact that you also spoke Ragash too and guessed all of their full names correctly. Crowthu literally cried at hearing that. You were family returned to all of them. And he felt closer to being whole since Sharn's loss.

"I would be ok with that. Please tell Bula and my mother where I am." Yotul chuckled.

“Ok.” You nodded, happy that you had gotten that out of the way.

"Again, I'm so sorry for being so rude, I honestly thought you were my uncle's granddaughter or something and I'm so relieved you're obviously not. I'm very happy you're here with us now, daughter." She offered as she held your face and placed her forehead to yours. Of course after she kissed it and your cheeks affectionately as the two of you continued to speak Yowl to each other.

You felt so much relief wash over you and you felt you knew she was telling the truth and that you could trust her and that you were very dear to her. Which made you want to have her dear to you in turn. You could only imagine how Bula would be reacting by now. Bula would most likely be screaming her head off in utter delight and waking the whole clan up just reading your messages. And want to ride at once to

"Actually what you may not know is Tangir was overthrown by not just Khagra, but the effort was supported by your other uncle Wuglat. Who is now the Clan Chief of the Great Typhoon Breaker Clan. Wuglat and Khagra brought back the law of only full blooded orcs could ever be a Warchieftess or Clan Chieftess and be allowed into the family as an equal. And only concubine or lower could ever be allowed to be human or non orc. A law I thought all orcs had accepted and implemented before and after this incident. Which is why I'm shocked I'm here and why your sons are all trying to court me." You confessed.

"Oh, well yesterday I would have agreed with that. But you'll find, you'll be the exception to the rule. And if you look at any of my son’s other human lovers and if you see that they will not do what that piece of shit’s bitches did, then I will give them my blessing and will lift it that law of no humans in the Clan Chief’s mates because if you have sworn on Bula’s life and the lives of her children. I trust you to make good on your promise. And I no longer fear for my son’s and their future on your account. For I can feel and know that you do not mean them harm, or especially me. Because you obviously know the hurt and trouble all of that caused.You are one of us and a full fledged member of this family now. And if you were not a Marfu, I would be demanding for Crowthu to make you one this instant anyway. You'll be treated as such from this moment on, come meet my grand-kids." She invited, before she took your hand and led you out of the kitchen tent into hers where Crowthu and his sons were playing with their grand kids on the floor and was happy and relieved to see you with Yotul and especially to see both of you smiling.

"Oh good, when I wasn't Clan Chief Khagra's personal cook I was their babysitter for their kids and grand-kids." You informed her proudly which she was really thrilled to hear before she went around the room to introduce you to all the kids who you met happily.

“This is Silug’s son, Grog.” Yotul said as she picked up a baby who was wider than he was long as a human woman was holding him and playing with him.

“And this is Grog’s mother Tiana.” Crowthu introduced.

“Hi.” You both greeted each other sweetly.

“Hello there Grog.” You cooed to him as you smiled at him as he simply looked at you dismissively and then looked at his mother and curled into her chest.

“He’s shy.” Tiana excused.

“It’s fine, most babies are.” You reassured her.

"This is Yalak's son, YakYak," Yotul introduced as she picked him up and kissed his super chubby cheeks and handed him to you.

"Oh my goodness! Look at how handsome and fierce you are!" You cooed to him which got him to laugh and babble to you, you put him on your hip because he was so heavy, even though he was only a year old. He was just so round and had so many rolls which was the supreme sign of health for all babies. His thick straight blue and black hair stuck straight up on top of his head like a natural mohawk. YakYak was absolutely precious, but you couldn't say that about a male baby orc. Handsome was ok, but usually fierce or frightening or something along those lines were the preferred complimentary terms while Yalak beamed proudly that you took to his son readily.

"Which one is his mother?" You asked as you swayed in place to keep him entertained as you tried to match all the girls in the kitchen to the guys since you hadn't seen who was with who yet.

"Grat." Yotul answered and you nodded in understanding as you mentally checked Yalak's name off your list. You weren't especially keen on coming between any couple, especially one that already had children. You didn't particularly want that kind of competition because of the competition that was always palpable between Grecko's wives. So now the options were narrowed down to Zorroku, the twins and Nar.

"And this fussy girl is Ori. She’s Zorroku's only child. Her mother Medowne died giving birth to her this past winter, so Grat has been nursing her. But she is, as you can see, very fussy." Crowthu offered as he did his best to keep the little girl happy in his arm with a few toys between his fingers on the other hand, trying to distract her and keep her from turning that fussiness into full blown crying. Ori was incredibly fussy and looked extremely small for an orc her age. She looked the same size as a human newborn. You didn’t think orc babies could be so small. She even looked quite sickly which made you furrow your brows in concentration at her. Zorroku had been practicing play fighting with very blunt wooden axes with his older nephews from Silug and Winug while Silug and Winug practiced playfighting with blunt wooden swords with the other boys. But Zorroku’s attention split between his nephews and you. He hoped you would take to his daughter too but stopped and had his nephews practice their skills with each other so he could come over to watch Ori react to you closer.

"Here, trade." You offered Yak Yak as an exchange as Yotul took YakYak away from you so you could get Ori.

“Hello Sweetheart, it’s lovely to meet you. Is…Ori her full name or is it a nickname for a longer name?” You asked as you took her and your brow furrowed in concentration as you looked her over, trying to see why she was so sick and so small.

“Yes, my mother kept repeating the same name when she was dying. Orianna…”

“Oriannaregina Azalea?” You supplied as you looked surprised yet almost saddened to hear the name as you looked from Ori to Zorroku as your eyes looked just a bit pleading as they began to grow glassy with tears.

“Yes, do you know who that is? My aunts and uncles simply say that she was a childhood friend of my mothers.” Zorroku asked as you smiled bittersweetly to hear him say that.

“I know who Oriannaregina Azalea is. That’s my mother’s full name. She simply goes by Regina. My mother was the one that picked out Azalea for herself since she couldn’t remember what her last name had been. Only that her name was Oriannaregina. Jaseeneh always called her by her whole full name though. But Sharnnarrah asked for my mother as she was dying?” You asked as you laid Ori to your chest and swayed in place as you rubbed soothing circles into her back which immediately calmed her despite your heart was going out to this little one that had been unknowingly named after your own mother. You could only imagine how your mother would have wanted to be there. How if she had, maybe Sharnarrah wouldn’t have passed since your mother also missed Sharnnarrah something awful.

“But you said your mother was my mother’s servant?” Glasha asked.

“Yes and no. My mother was the first to discover how to grow breadseed from the poles in the mountain tops where the Mountain Blizzard Clan called home. And so she was in charge of planting the seeds and growing the crops. And she found it out by complete accident. But it was because of that, the Mountain Blizzard Clan survived harsh winters when there were a mass movements of peoples settling in the other unoccupied mountains. Thier movement and settling there drove away the natural prey items since the mountain clans’ diet consisted mostly of meat and mountain herbs that naturally grew there. And once my mother was able to cultivate breadseed, they had bread that didn’t need fields in the valleys to grow the wheat.” You revealed.

“Sharnarrah and my mother grew up together from the time they were children. Sharnarrah’s mother Jaseeneh saved my mother and adopted her as her own and the two were raised as sisters. But to save my mother from being prey to other clans and specifically, other humans, Jaseeneh and Sharnarrah had to call my mother their servant and had to treat her as such in front of anyone outside of their own clan. My mother regrets leaving Sharnnarrah and Jaseeneh and Dastaneh and Justinough, who were effectively her adopted family- for my father. And she regrets that Sharnerrah, nor Jaseeneh could buy my father from Khagra since my father was Khagra’s servant and friend for most of his life. Khagra and his father had hoped if they lured my mother to their clan, Sharnnarah would follow. But Jaseeneh refused to let Sharnnarah come to the clan with my mother. Because Jaseeneh saw my mother as one of her own and in her mind in heart, they had already taken one of her daughters and did not treat her well enough for Jaseeneh’s taste, or Sharnarrah’s. And Jaseeneh was not about to let Sharnnarah do the same and suffer the same and was convinced that if they treated my mother as a slave and a servant that they would treat Sharnarrah the same, no matter how much they tried to say or at least do otherwise in her presence but with just a few words from my mother’s mouth, Jaseen and Sharnarrah knew not to trust a single thing they said because when they weren’t around, Bula was especially fierce towards her because Bula saw my mother as Sharnarrah’s sister and felt the need to be domineering towards her and remind her that ‘because she married a servant of Khagra, that made her a servant too along with all of her offspring’. And it didn’t help that my mother was human and reminded Bula of her own past with her uncle.” You confessed as you just closed your eyes and held Ori and swayed with her as Ori was perfectly happy and content to have you hold her and soothe her as she settled right down and immediately stopped being so fussy in your arms.

It was probably a good thing you had closed your eyes because the look Zorroku and Crowthu shared spoke of their quiet rage about the matter as even Yotul blushed and looked away guiltily as she remembered how difficult she made Sharn’s life because of her own jealousy and worried about how Crowthu was going to view her sister and her mother over this.

“Jaseeneh has never once come to see my mother because of how hurt she was that my mother chose my father over her and her family and her clan. Jaseeneh tried to make my mother a Visla, which is their clan’s version of Marfu. But my mother was already in love with my father and would not leave him for anything or anyone. Jaseeneh has never even tried to meet me or any of my siblings. I only know of her through her sons, Dastaneh and Justinough and their families when they come to sell and trade pink salt from thier mountian and we talk and serve as their “translators”. Everything that I have that is important and sentimental to me that I brought with me, has been a gift from Jaseeneh and her family. But she always insisted on not giving me or any of my siblings anything too big or rich because she feared Bula’s jealousy or any of her daughters or daughters in law taking it away from me or my sisters because we were servants after all and of course according to Bula- ‘no servant should have anything greater than their master’. Bula wouldn’t even let my mother have any alters to her gods. My mother and my siblings have tried making small totems of wood to be either worn or placed very discretely in our home but every time Bula has seen them, she has smashed them, and rebuked my mother for worshiping human gods, even though they weren’t human at all, they were Mountain Blizzard Clan gods. But Bula would never hear of any argument and any attempt was always met with severe discipline. And Bula hates it when we speak in Ragesh. She insists that we speak only Yowl or Kitch.” You revealed as you closed your eyes tighter as tears escaped them as Crowthu looked to Yotul who put up her hands in defeat.

“That’s Bula’s business. I had nothing to do with it. I will never do anything like that to Belladonna. She is free to speak any language she wants and is free to worship who she wishes to, if Dowager Clan Chieftess Jaseeneh tried to make her mother a Visla, I will see her as one too and anything that was Sharnarrah’s that her daughters have not claimed will be hers as well. For I know Sharnarrah would be happy to have her niece back home.” Yotul quickly and readily assured her husband who smiled and nodded before Yotul ordered her servants to get everything that was Sharns that had been put into storage, to be delivered to your tent immediately.

“I’m so sorry. If Sharnarrah had told me where your mother was, I would have reunited them.” Crowthu apologized.

“Did Sharnarrah ever tell you where my mother was?” You asked him.

“No. She never did, even on her deathbed, she wouldn’t say where she was. And no one in the clan has said anything about Oriannaregina. Only that she was once a close friend of Sharnarrah’s.” Crowthu shook his hand as tears came to his eyes at the memory.

“That was probably to protect my mother and my father and my siblings because if Sharnarrah said that my mother was a sister, you would have no doubt killed us because we were not Mountain Blizzard Clan orcs, just humans, hiding in plain sight as Clan Chief Khagra’s personal servants. But the fact that Sharnarrah spoke of my mother at all, shows she must have forgiven my mother for leaving her, at least a little bit. Sharnarrah, according to my mother, was heartbroken and actually quite bitter when my mother fell in love with my father- to the point she became a servant right alongside him to stay with him. And leaving Sharnarrah and Jaseeneh were my mother’s biggest and deepest regrets. My mother was allowed to pilgrimage to the closest mountain to grow breadseed in the winter. And she could only look from that mountain to the other where the Mountain Blizzard Clan resided. Knowing she was so close but still so far away from them. My mother owed Jaseeneh her life and had repaid it by saving Jaseeneh’s and the rest of the clan from starvation several times. And it broke Jaseeneh’s heart that my mother would choose to love my father more than her, more than Sharnarrah, who was like a sister to her. Even when Jaseen’s other clan members adored my mother and tried to court her, but she did not return their feelings and politely refused their proposals.” You explained.

“What did my grandmother save your mother from?” Zorroku asked softly before you reached up and you held a handful of your red hair before you went back to soothing Ori.

“Your mother was born with red hair like you and was treated badly for it?” Zorroku asked with a deep frown as you sniffled and nodded yes.

“Why? It’s just red hair, it’s not…” Zorroku asked.

“Because red hair was seen as a curse to the people where my mother’s family resided with. They came from an area of the home world that humans came from- four hundred years ago, when the spheres converged. They all associated red hair as being a child of the devils. And they claimed it was ‘red headed devils that brought the plague and then converged the spheres’. And when my mother was born it was a light reddish blonde hair, they took it as a sign that the devils were close and that the blonder the hair got, the farther away the devils were. So while it wasn’t obviously apparent, she was immediately made the object of suspicion by her whole village.” You revealed lowly.

“But it’s just hair! It’s not something anyone can control.” Zorroku contested as the rest of his family was frowning too because this was the first they were hearing of such preposterous things.

“But it was just a belief they brought over from the home world. The older my mother got, the darker her hair got and the more pronounced the red was. Especially in the winter when she wasn’t in the sun so much. Because her hair got lighter in the summer when she was out in the sun more. Even though her skin was very white and her skin would turn as red as her hair and then freckles would dirty up her skin. The whole village saw my mother’s freckles as her skin always being dirty. And my birth grandmother tried to scrub her skin raw trying to scrub them off so that she and her family were not seen as filthy and something to be avoided.” You explained.

“But they’re so cute.” Zorroku blurted out as he argued which got you to smile and laugh through your tears.

“Then you’re the first to see them and think that way.” You answered him.

“According to the rest of my mother’s village, they associated every bad thing that happened to the village with my mother, and her family. To the point that when the green plague swept through, they put her on the sacrificial altar to their god. Since it was seen as a sign that the reason the plague came to them was because my mother was left alive and hadn’t been put to death at birth. But Jaseeneh and her clan were hunting in the woods nearby on that day. And when they heard my mother’s screams and her immediate family’s cries and screams, they came upon the scene to see my mother tied upon an alter and her family at her feet, being put to death. Their blood being splattered on my mother and the alter. Jaseeneh was incensed to see a child be put to death. So they interrupted the ceremony. And Jaseeneh cut my mother’s bonds with her own knife and took my mother as her own when she saw that my mother was only a small child and clearly too young and too innocent to be guilty of anything that deserved a punishment of death. And because Jaseeneh was the Clan Chieftess at the time, she ordered for the entire village to be put to death. Since they had already put my mother’s family to death for trying to stop the sacrifice. And they started with my mother’s mother and then her father and had started to kill off her siblings, starting with the eldest ones first, leaving my mother the only one left.” You recounted as more tears came from your eyes.

“My mother’s father’s name was Zorroushku, and my mother’s- mother’s name was Glashnarra. Her brothers were named Grushnagah and Murnagah, and my mother’s sister’s name was Marnausta. So you are all named after my mother’s slaughtered family. All because they either bore or were a sibling to one with red hair.” You explained as Crowthu and his children felt like someone had just stabbed them through the heart to hear this.

“Fuck.” Crowthu breathed as he didn’t realize the significance of his children’s names, he just thought they were Mountain Bilzzard Clan names.

“From that day until the day my mother left to marry my father. Jaseeneh saw my mother as her daughter. And Sharnarrah saw her as a sister and her best friend. And for Sharnnarrah to…” Your emotion cut off your words.

“To say my mothers name. Something Sharnarrah swore to my mother the last time they saw each other and got into the worst fight they had ever gotten into. Sharnarrah insisted that if my mother wanted to be a slave so bad, that that was her choice and that she was going to forget all about her and never speak of her again. And that her name would never pass her lips and told my mother that if she spoke hers, that the gods would bring calamity upon her for not only abandoning her and her family but them too. But for Sharnnarrah to never reveal where my mother was, means that she still loved my mother enough to try to protect her. And my mother will be so heartbroken to hear it, but so proud to have Sharn’s own granddaughter named after her. Oriannaregina.” You cooed to Ori as you kissed the crown of her head affectionately as Yotul, while she had always felt competitive towards Sharn, to know this truth pulled at her own heartstrings as she herself felt so bad for not befriending Sharn herself and making her life hard enough that she missed her friend so much to call her name out on her deathbed.

Zorroku couldn’t be more offended hearing this. He thought your red hair was so beautiful and so unique. But to hear that other humans thought it was a curse? That made no sense. Orcs loved everything red. Red was the patron color of Zighorh, the god of war. It was meant to show the blood spilled on the battlefield and every orc wore red warpaint when they rode into battle so that if they were wounded, either they or no one else would know until a warrior fell to the ground dead. Red was the color to signify for boys. Red was the color of honor and glory. And you had a head full of red. And it only seemed to awaken his need and want to go raiding, if only to provide more for you. It was such a beautiful shade of red, with deep oranges that reminded him of fires and the flames and of the sunrise and sunset. He needed to prove to you that such a wonderful thing should never be seen as a curse but a blessing! And he was grateful his grandmother put your mother’s village to death. Because if she had not, he would want to raid and destroy such a place himself at sunrise. Because righteous anger was blazing in his veins and in his heart. And he felt he needed to exterminate everyone who thought and felt that way. And from now on he would be watching every human when you were around them because if they even hinted at such a thing, he would make sure they never bothered you, let alone said such lies out loud.

#Zorroku and Peaches #Zorroku and Peaches Part 5 #what is in reality just the third of the four parts I had to divide part 3 into #But aaaahhhh the angst #orc boyfriend #orc husband #medieval orc story #did you see the historical reference to midieval europe's antisemetic views?#Sad but true.#male orc x female reader #male monster x female reader

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