The bamboo forest, usually alive with the sounds of cicadas, rustling leaves, and distant animal calls, was eerily silent today. Despite being filled with nature, there were no creatures in sight, as if every living creature had chosen to hide from some unseen predator.
So there was only a single living creature in the vicinity—if it could even be called 'living'—who was currently seating completely still in the only house of the area.
From the moment he could remember, he had always been alone, living in the dilapidated and desolate house. There were no faces in his mind, no warmth of family or laughter of friends—just a name. Only his name, Haruki, was etched into his heart.
This name seemed to have been given to him by a very important person, but Haruki just couldn't recall who.
"Just like your name, I hope you shine like the sun and are as clear as spring water."
The memory was faint. It belonged to a young woman—her tone gentle, her presence soothing. But her face… was gone. No matter how hard he tried to recall it, he could only feel a blank where the memory should have been.
Who was she? Was she his family? The more he tried to remember, the more he was met with a blank.
But his current situation—let alone shining—he couldn't even stand in the sunlight. The bone-chilling burning sensation and festering skin on his hands were vivid in his memory, still clear even after many days.
Looking at his smooth, fair palms, without a single scar, he recalled how, when his hand retreated from the sunlight back into the shadows, the burns on his palm quickly healed.
He remembered staring at his restored hands in disbelief. Then curiosity took hold. He picked up a sharp stone, dragging it across his arm with detached calm.
A drop of dark red blood fell, then the wound sealed before his eyes. Not even a scar remained.
He had watched it happen without a word.
That day, Haruki realized he was no longer human.
A monster, perhaps. Something that healed too fast, something that burned under sunlight. It was ironic, really—someone named Haruki, meaning "shining spring," unable to even stand in the sun.
But what did it matter? Haruki couldn't bring himself to understand why it should matter.
When midnight fell, Haruki finally stepped outside. He sat under the eaves, feeling the gentle night breeze, staring blankly at the starry sky. He always felt as if something was drawing him there, or rather, he was searching for something in the night sky, though he didn't know what.
Tonight, the moonlight was especially clear, and suddenly the bamboo forest rustled.
Then, amid the tranquil quiet, a soft, melodic voice cut through the air, "Ara! ara! there's one here too"
A swarm of butterflies suddenly appeared in Haruki's line of sight. A maiden, like a butterfly, flew down from the sky, wearing a white haori with a rainbow-colored hem, holding a long blade. Her haori fluttered in the air like a butterfly's wings.
"Insect Breathing, Dance of the Butterfly: Caprice!"
The blade sliced through the air, aimed precisely at him.
Haruki did not move.
He simply continued to sit, eyes still fixed upon the stars.
Seeing no reaction from Haruki, the maiden became more cautious and withdrew her attack, landing a respectable distance from him. Her grip on her blade tightened, her smile never faltering despite the confusion in her eyes.
"Good evening, Mr. Demon," she said, her lips curving into a polite smile. "What are you doing out here all alone?"
Haruki remained silent, not turning to look at her. The question seemed simple enough, but he wasn't aware of the answer himself.
Seeing the demon ignoring her, Shinobu's caution increased along with her bewilderment.
Shinobu tilted her head slightly, studying him. A non-confrontational demon was rare. Most directly attacked upon seeing a demon slayer. But this one… he just sat there.
His demeanor reminded her faintly of someone in the corps, though she pushed that thought aside. Unable to stand the silence, Shinobu spoke again.
"Hmm… Mr. Demon doesn't talk?" she asked, her voice lilting with that deceptively sweet tone she used so often. "That's rather rude, don't you think? I even introduced myself politely."
Still no response.
Her fingers tightened on her blade hilt, though her smile never faltered. "Well, if you won't talk, then perhaps I'll just—"
"...Haruki."
The voice was soft, halting. As if the act of speaking itself was unfamiliar.
Shinobu blinked in surprise. "Oh my~ so you can talk." Her expression softened just a little. "Haruki, was it? What are you doing here tonight?"
He turned his head toward her for the first time.
His golden hair shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and his eyes—clear, pale blue—reflected the stars.
Shinobu was somewhat surprised by this demon's appearance. Other demons usually had something differentiating them from humans—horns, strange skin patterns, inhuman eyes—but this demon, aside from the unusual aura around him, was almost indistinguishable from a human. Shinobu wasn't sure if she would be able to identify him among humans, even with her experience.
"I was… watching the stars," Haruki murmured.
"I see. Haruki is watching the stars. How nice." Shinobu's smile widened slightly, though her eyes remained calculating, assessing. "Do you do this often?"
Haruki blinked slowly, processing the question. "I... think so. I don't know."
"You don't know?" Shinobu tilted her head, genuinely curious now despite herself. "That's quite unusual, Haruki."
"Is it?"
The innocent question made Shinobu pause. She wore a gentle smile, but something about this demon felt different. Wrong, somehow. Not in the way other demons were wrong—with their cruelty and bloodlust—but in a way she couldn't quite define.
"Then, Haruki, do you know anything about demons?"
"Demons?"
Haruki's confusion seemed genuine, his brow furrowing slightly as if encountering a new concept. Shinobu's eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind her smile.
Hmm? So he hasn't even realized he's no longer human? Although I'm not sure if it's just deception... Shinobu looked at the golden-haired boy before her, who seemed to be around her age. Perhaps I won't have to fight like usual.
"Yes, They are sick creatures who feed on humans." Shinobu couldn't help but display some hatred saying that, her smile tightening at the corners. Then she softly added, her voice deceptively gentle, "Like you."
Shinobu took a few steps and stood very close to Haruki, her blade already pressed against Haruki's chest. He didn't move, simply looked at her with those clear blue eyes.
"Haruki, you have become a demon."
"Do you know?" Shinobu continued, her voice still maintaining that gentle sweetness even as her words grew sharper. "Demons have no heart. They've lost their hearts… their compassion. They casually trample on lives, take away what others hold dear."
Perhaps because of the rarity of a non-violent demon, Shinobu couldn't help but speak to him. As she spoke, she thought of her older sister, Kanae. Her sister had always wanted to get along well with demons, sympathizing with them. She had tried to persuade Shinobu so many times, but in the end, her sister was still killed by a demon. The memory made her blade press slightly harder against Haruki's chest.
The word demon echoed in Haruki's mind like a bell tolling from far away.
He looked down at his hands. So pale. So clean. But in his mind's eye, he saw them differently—stained red, dripping, trembling.
The image hit him like a wave.
Monster.
You killed him!
Stay away!
He didn't know where the voices came from. Faces blurred into darkness, outlines of people pointing at him, accusing him. Blood pooled beneath his feet.
"I didn't… I didn't…"
The words slipped from his lips, barely a whisper. His voice trembled for the first time.
Shinobu's eyes softened just slightly. Her tone gentled, the same tone she had once used with frightened children. "It's alright, Haruki. Becoming a demon isn't something you wished for, right? I understand. It's not your fault."
Something about her words stirred a memory.
Another voice, gentle and kind, once said something similar.
"Haruki, it's alright. It's not your fault."
"Are you… angry?" he asked softly. "You said… demons have no heart. But… I think I do."
"Oh?" Shinobu raised an eyebrow, her tone light again. "And how would you prove that, Haruki?"
Haruki lifted her hand gently and placed it on his chest. Beneath her palm, she felt it—a steady heartbeat, warm and human.
Her lips curved faintly. "Indeed, it seems Haruki does have a heart." Her eyes lowered.
"So, before Haruki becomes like the others, before you hurt someone precious to them..." Shinobu's smile remained fixed, gentle as spring rain, "I will... kill you first. It's better this way, don't you think?"
The slender blade, with a blade only at its tip, pierced his heart. Haruki's body jerked slightly. His hand rose halfway, then he let it fell limp to his side.
Would he really become like the demons she spoke of? He didn't know. He didn't know anything, really. Then perhaps it was better to die. Haruki closed his clear sapphire eyes, slowly lay down, and quietly awaited death.
Shinobu looked at Haruki, who wasn't resisting, and pursed her lips. For just a moment, her smile faltered. She injected a painless poison into Haruki's body as mercy—the one kindness she could still offer. This demon named Haruki, perhaps he was the kind of demon her sister spoke of, who could get along with humans.
But she just couldn't do it. She couldn't spare demons, not after what they took from her. Not after Kanae. The rage still burned beneath her gentle exterior, as poisonous as the blade she wielded.
After a final glance at Haruki on the ground, his golden hair splayed across the earth like a fallen sun, Shinobu quickly left.
"I hope, Haruki, that in your next life, you will not become a demon again."
The words drifted back on the wind, sincere despite everything—a prayer for a soul she'd just ended, from a woman who'd forgotten how to pray for anything but vengeance.