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Chapter Text

𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧
╭──────────.★..─╮
𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐌
╰─..★.──────────╯

現
実
逃
避

⊱ ─────────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ──────────── ⊰

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

★──────★──────★

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨, 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

Distant cries resonated among the trees. The icy winds intensified, sweeping through the towering, dense woods with various animal calls reverberating. The tears that marked Charli's cheeks began to dry against her skin. She braced herself against the biting chill, keeping her deep earthy brown eyes cast downward, fixated on the ground where dead leaves crunched beneath her every step. She repeatedly murmured the same words under her trembling breath.

"They're going to kill me . . . they're—" She falters. Speaking, even to herself, was difficult. Her nose, ears, chest, and legs all stung from the frigid air. She wore black sweatpants and a vibrant orange oversized hoodie, yet even that offered little protection from the cold. Her sleek black hair whipped behind her in the wind, though not all of it was entirely black. At the center of her hair, just above her neck was dyed a vivid hot pink, extending to the tips. Her nearly bloodshot eyes glistening with tears were suddenly smacked by her hair as the gust of winter wind blew from behind her. She stopped abruptly, her breath catching once more in her parched throat as she unfolded her arms and swept her hair away from her face, her eyes squeezed shut. After tucking her hair behind her ears, she reopened her sight and folded her arms tight over her chest. She lifted her left foot, poised to take another step forward, but the sudden snap of a branch behind her halted her movement. Drawing in a sharp breath, she turned her head quickly, only to find . . .

Nothing.

The wind persisted in rustling through the wild terrain around her, tousling her hair as she searched for the source of the alarming branch snap. Her efforts were left with no results; her gaze met solely with the gently swaying underbrush and trees.
"That better have been some fucking rabbit," Charli reflected, face an irked grimace. 

She was acutely aware of the potential dangers that might be lurking around her, not only from wildlife but also from supernatural entities. While she carried a degree of skepticism regarding the existence of demons, she had always felt this way. The thought of creatures akin to vampires roaming the night seemed far-fetched to her, almost as if they belonged in fantasy novels. Despite her disbelief in their reality, she found the tales she’d heard to be both captivating and unsettling, especially since they unfolded in the very woods where she stood. And the outcomes of those stories weren’t exactly positive.
Her thoughts raced, yet her legs remained frozen in place. With her arms now hanging limply at her sides, she gawked blankly into the distance, her eyes wide as she succumbed to a panic attack. Her breaths came in strenuous gasps, causing her chest to rise and fall rapidly with clouds of vapor escaping her lips.

Sweat trickled down her forehead, even as the cold numbed her body to the point where she felt an odd warmth. She appeared as if she had just witnessed something horrific. She was grappling with her emotions, torn between anxiety and indifference as she contemplated whether she truly cared about being lost with the very real possibility of death looming over her.

Should she make an effort to find her way home, or should she embrace the idea of never returning, which, despite its allure, carried significant consequences? On the flip side, she wondered if she was merely overreacting. Perhaps the depression and anxiety that had burdened her for years were just figments of her imagination, and she was being overly dramatic. Maybe she was the one at fault, casting herself as a victim while her parents were justified in their actions. From the very beginning, Charli's relationship with her parents had been far from ideal.
They consistently dismiss her feelings and undermine nearly everything she expresses or does, holding traits of petty narcissism. Their behavior leaves her feeling unwanted, as if her very existence was a mistake, given their complete disregard for her emotions. As a child, she didn't have complete awareness of their neglect, her developing mind unable to fully understand their actions until she reached the age of thirteen. At thirteen, she came to a significant realization: the way she was being treated was not normal.

The cruel realization punched her in the gut as she'd observe the way her friends’ parents treated them—with the respect and love that every child deserves. And in contrast, she recognized that absence of affection from her own parents. Initially, she was too apprehensive to voice her feelings, but as she matured, she gradually found the courage to speak up. But unfortunately, each attempt lead to exhausting arguments, just as it had that evening. She felt overwhelmed, nearing her breaking point, spiraling deeper into a state of affliction.

Her descent into despair began at a manageable pace, but it had since accelerated to an unbearable level, prompting her to question the value of her own life, a thought that terrified her. Despite battling depression for nearly eight years, Charli often contemplated the idea of suicide, primarily out of fear of what happens after death. Charli wasn’t sure if she believed in Heaven, Hell, nor did she believe in any deities. But she was fascinated by spirits and believed in them, enjoying horror novels that explored their existence and finding them intriguing.
But were they truly real? There’s a reason why all of those novels are categorized as “fantasy.” She pondered whether death might simply be an experience devoid of sensation, similar to sleep, yet extending for eternity. An infinite abyss of darkness that couldn't be escaped. The notion spiraled through her mind as she wandered aimlessly through the woods without a definitive path.

Her anxious thoughts were so clouded that she couldn't care for the potential dangers surrounding her. They were consumed by the musings of what came after dying, wondering if it could serve as her way out, her way to be happy. Yet, the concept also pierced her heart with fear, prompting her to overthink and blood, and—wait, blood?

Charli's previously blurred vision sharpened as she focused on the ground beneath her, her chaotic thoughts abruptly pulleing back to reality. Her sandal had stepped in a puddle of liquid that glimmered crimson under the moon's silver glow. The sight of red liquid conjured only one singular thought. Charli lifted her foot, drawing a step back, her mouth agape as her gaze followed the trail of blood.

The lifeless body of a woman lay sprawled on the ground, surrounded by a swarm of buzzing flies and permeated by a nauseating, decaying odor that hung loose in the air, compelling Charli to fight the urge to retch. She was undoubtedly astonished how she didn’t smell the foul stench from a distance; her mind had been far too preoccupied. Even more appalling than the unexpected corpse was the figure seated cross-legged beside it, seemingly consuming the remains. It clutched the corpses’ arm, gnawing at the forearm voraciously. Charli swallowed hard, her stomach churning as her body instinctively convulsed, her horrified gaze darting between the body and the being engaged in its late night feast.

“Yeah, that’s no rabbit.”

It was neither a person nor an animal; but it possessed hands like a humans, complemented by irregular spiky locks of light-colored hair cascading down its back. Charli attempted retreating away quietly, yet, despite her efforts to remain silent, it abruptly shifted its focus toward her. A foreboding chill enveloped her heart, and the hairs on her arms and neck raised. Its eyes exhibited a mysterious prismatic quality, with the characters "Upper Two" inscribed in black kanji that emitted a faint glow amidst the tenebrous woods, leading Charli to the unsettling realization that this being was far from human.
"Ah, hey there!" the enigmatic presence marveled melodiously, its tone a stark contrast to its disquieting appearance. Charli felt sweat trickling down her temples as her clammy hands seized into tight fists.  She froze, gaze locked onto the figure's hypnotic eyes that were shrouding with enigma. Suddenly, it rose from its criss-cross position on the ground, eliciting a gasp from Charli as she attempted to step back quickly. The effort was futile; her ankle twisting inward, sending a sharp pang up her calf, causing her to fall back onto the ground.

She drew in sharp breaths, propping herself up on her elbows, hearing her heartbeat pummeling in her ears. The blood skittered across its lips and chin glistened under the night's cold light, proving its presence as something otherworldly. Charli's mind flittered with questions about who or what this entity was, and her first thought was clear.
"Demon," she stammered out, her voice an aching tremble. The essence's blood-stained lips parted, seemingly to respond.
"Are you—" she interrupts, "a demon?"

"Now, now, there's no need to panic," it coaxed softly, kneeling down closer to Charli. In quick response, Charli instinctively kicked her legs up, scrambling backward with a feeble grumble. The rough rocks, dirt, and twigs was painfully uncomfortable underneath her hands as she dragged herself across the forest ground.

"Get away from me,” she chides, her chin dipping down. Her throat felt constricted to the point where screaming was possible. Goosebumps prickled across her skin, leaving only one singular thought racing through her mind. "I'm gonna die."

Those words echoed incessantly in her mind, accompanied by the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. It pounded so loudly that anyone nearby would likely hear it. It could. And it made that evident by offering Charli a toothy smile, unveiling freakishly sharp canines.
"What's the matter? Oh, you poor thing. Come, now." Its patronizing voice maintained a honeyed pitch as its slender hands reached toward Charli invitingly.

She hastily kicks up her left leg and scoots back another good three feet.
"I said get the fuck away from me," she vehemently grouses through gritted teeth.

"Shh, let's not get too rowdy. That's what happened with that other girl back there, and look where she ended up!" the arcane being utters as it beckoned its head back to the lifeless corpse behind either of them.
"Such a pity, really. But she isn't suffering anymore."

Charli's fretted eyes remained fixed on the figure, ignoring its gesture towards the body. She studied its facial features, then its hair that glimmered with a ghostly hue. It was strange to her how it flared out like jagged spikes down its back.
"What are you?" She managed to muster out, her voice trembling with not only fear but fascination. She understood this was no ordinary being.

"Well, you guessed right on your first try! You did say "demon", didn't you? But fear not, you're lucky you've stumbled upon someone as kindhearted as me. Now, you just need to communicate with me, that's all—easy, right? I heard you crying a bit ago, and you've been walking in circles all night long. Did you lose your way and get lost?" it questioned, curiosity grazing its tranquil voice and opalescent gaze, a divine kaleidoscope of various pigments. "You didn't notice it, but you've been pacing back and forth by me for hours. I should've approached you first, I'm sorry." It waves a hand apologetically with a teasing laugh.

Charli inaudibly murmured as she clenched the dirt beneath her in both hands, feeling it seep under her nails. The presence of a demon before her was almost unbelievable, leaving her in shock at the sheer coincidence. Yet, the evidence was undeniable; the first fact being how she interrupted its feast with the human body sprawled just behind them, and the second being its enigmatic multi-hues that seemed to pierce through her own—ones unlike any she had ever seen. The way the myriad of colors merged seamlessly, similar to a watercolor painting was undoubtedly gorgeous, she had to admit.
Nevertheless, those eyes sent an unsettling coil through her that screamed danger. Her hands relaxed, releasing the dirt she had clutched. She wondered whether it'd be wise to respond honestly to its inquiry, but either way, there was no escape from this situation even if she didn't. She found it a little embarrassing how it was watching her pace in circles around him in the forest unknowingly. Maybe a lot embarrassing. 

"Yeah . . . I'm lost," Charli admitted, slowly propping herself up with caution, her gaze fixed in place. "And I'm kinda glad you didn't approach me first," she banters through her fear, gaze curiously drifting down to examine the pants it wore. Under the dim glow, its pants resembled hakamas with loose cuffs, which struck her as unusual. She always envisioned demons wearing—nothing. Envisioned them as beings with more creature than humanoid traits. With elongated, slender limbs and skin that was either grey, slimy, or clammy. And yet, that would have been even more terrifying than the reality before her.

"Ah, so my guess was right, then. Don't fret, it happens more frequently than you think. The woods makes it easy to lose your bearings, right? I come across lost people all the time, and I'll always offer them a helping hand." The essence extended its hand again, inviting Charli to take hold. She frantically drags herself away from it, her voice trembling with anxious sobs. With each inch she retreated, the essence followed closely, its steps gentle yet teasing and persistent, until her back pressed against a tree. 

"I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die! Please, just get the hell away!" she wept in a quivering voice, throwing her head from side to side with tears spilling down her cheeks. 

"Whoa, now! Who said you were gonna die? Remember, I'm kindhearted as can be, and I only want to help you." Offering once more, it holds out its hand; and this time, Charli had no where to escape to since a tree was pressed firm against her back.
"How ‘bout I take you back to my place for the night? I'll gladly help you back to your home first thing tomorrow morning! I assure you, you can rest easy."

Charli's tear-filled eyes fell upon the demon's hand, where she discerned its pointy nails. Her brows furrow, and her lip sneers as she leapt through scenarios. Accepting the demon's offer would lead to her death, yet attempting to flee would doubtlessly end with the same result. Both options seemed useless, but ultimately, she wanted to choose the path with least resistance, rather than spending her final moments in a desperate game of running, hiding, and chasing. With trembling resolve, her hand rose to meet the demon's with an ice-cold sensation coursing through her arm immediately. Its grip was frigid as the night, the coldest touch she's ever felt. And not long after their hands met, she found herself lifted from the ground.

"So, you finally decided to accept my offer without being so stubborn. I'm truly proud of you!" The essence's resonating voice altered into a more vibrant, joyful melody, its opalescent eyes shutting. Charli maintained her hold on theirs, and with her free hand she swipes away the tears from her eyes and cheeks with a wave of sheepishness clouding her.

"Yeah, you sound just like my parents. Sarcastic as all hell. If you're gonna help me, can I at least know your name? If you even have one," Charli murmurs. 

"Oh, right, right! My name is Doma, and you?" Doma retorts, gesturing his free hand to her. He was tall compared to Charli, considering she stood a good five feet and six inches.

"Charli," she grumbles in return, her earthy brown eyes hanging low to the ground, avoiding eye contact.

"Charli? Well, isn't that a name! You know, I've met a lot of girls with pretty names, but Charli is the first I've ever heard. Who picked it?" Doma inquires, his eyes reopening wide with curiosity.

"Uh . . ." Charli's gruff voice lowers as her gaze sifts up to his.
"My dad picked it. My mom wanted to name me Starlette, but—my dad thought Charli was more—simple?" she answers, her eyes shooting back down. She felt odd discussing this matter with a demon and why he was even interested. 
"Does this seriously matter?"

"Starlette? Whoa, do your parents prefer outré names like that?" Doma's cheerful tone persisted as he shut his eyes once more, a radiant smile adorning his face. The blood remained smeared across his mouth and chin, a sight that still left Charli uneasy. With her eyes adrift to the side, her irritation grew from the trivial conversation. She couldn't care any less about her name or who picked it. All she could think about was warming herself up. She nodded before articulating her thoughts with a vexed sigh.

"I guess. Man, could we go now or whatever? It's a little cold out here."

"Oh, silly me. I almost forgot. Sorry, sorry; of course we can go! Just right this way."
Doma spins on his heels, swiveling around and starting down the woods, his frigid hand still clasped with Charli's. As the dead body approached, Doma carelessly stepped over it, treating it as if it were inconsequential while Charli braced herself, covering her mouth and nose with her free hand, squeezing her eyes shut as she tentatively stepped over the woman's remains after him. She figured she'd be panicking and vomiting since she has a phobia of blood, but her emotions were far too dulled to provoke any reaction out of her. When coming to a safe distance away from the corpse, she removed her hand from her mouth, heaving out a breath as her lips twitched. Her stomach coiled and twisted as nausea crept up.

"I sincerely apologize for that being too distressing to you. I will make it up to you once we get to my place!" Doma's voice rang out, fleeting throughout the shadowy wilderness. Charli didn't like the sound of that. Her stomach twisted further, and she began to draw breaths in a slow pattern in attempt to alleviate the growing nausea. Her hand’s grasp on his squeezed tighter, and a quick thought popped in her head of why she was even still holding on.

"When are we gonna get there?" she spoke quick before a serrated swallow, feeling like she could double over and vomit at any given moment.

"When? Well, look, we're already here! Did you not see the lanterns from over there? They're pretty visible in my opinion—and vision," Doma adds with a silvery chuckle.

Charli hummed in confusion, tilting her head up. In the distance, a house-like structure adorned with yellow-tinted lanterns affixed from its sides came into view, prompting her eyes to go wide. Its elegant brown front door featured an oval glass at its center decorated and rimmed with golden lotus outlines. The door handle, also in gold, lent an antique and vintage charm to the entrance. The windows, the wind chimes swaying gently from the roof's edge, and the stunning garden that wrapped around the property all contributed to a welcoming and lush appearance.
To Charli, this house seemed excessively lavish, especially since her parents had never experienced such luxury. Financial struggles meant that the only home she had known was small and plagued with issues like mold, humidity, and temperature extremes. Summers were stiflingly hot and humid, while winters brought biting cold and dry air. All she had ever known was an old, uninspiring house, much like the others in her small village. Therefore, encountering such a magnificent residence was truly remarkable, so much so that she long forgot her nausea.
"This is where you live? Holy shit. This house is—beautiful," she exclaimed, her voice brimming with awe. As they approached closer, she gazed up at the lanterns and wind chimes that softly tinkled above her, producing a calming melody that enriched the magical ambiance. 

A lulled chuckle emerges from Doma as he shook his head. "While this may be where I live, it's not a house, it's actually a temple! I am the leader of the Eternal Paradise Faith Cult, and this is my temple."

"Paradise Faith?" Charli inquires, her eyes perking up at him.
"I've heard of that before. My mom and dad used to talk about going to it a couple years back, but apparently something happened to it. What happened to it?"

"Well, that's something I'd rather not talk about!" Doma nearly shouts, giving her a carefree smile that tinged with sarcasm.

"What? Did they find out you were a demon and all scram? Or did they know you were already one?" Charli persisted her pries, disregarding his response.

"Look at that, we’re here! Didn’t take long, right? Let’s hurry on in!" he declared as he stood at the threshold, ignoring her inquiries just as she ignored his wishes to not speak about the topic. With the golden knob firmly in his grasp, he twisted it with a flourish, pushing the door open with an aspect of confidence and sauntering inside, drawing her along with him. The interior of the temple mirrored its opulent exterior, exuding an air of grandeur. Shelves adorned with an array of polished glass pots and vases, each showcasing intricate designs and a vibrant palette lined the walls, which were a cream white accented with beige lotus motifs. Golden chandeliers, aglow with flickering candlelight hung gracefully from above, while vintage sconces illuminated along the ivory walls. Rich mahogany drapes, embellished with delicate floral patterns framed every window, adding to the sumptuous atmosphere.

At the heart of the temple lay a purple bean bag pillow nestled beneath an exquisite canopy supported by wooden beams. Each beam bore white plaques inscribed in bold black letters proclaiming "paradise," and to Charli, this sanctuary truly felt like a slice of paradise. A subtle and sweet aroma enveloped her, rich and inviting. She had anticipated his place being a desolate, eerie building, like some unknown abandoned house, yet the warmth of her surroundings cradled her both physically and mentally, warding off the chill that had settled in her bones from the harsh winds outside. It was all far beyond her initial assumptions, leaving her feeling somewhat bashful that a demon owned such a better property than her.

Upon their entrance, Doma released Charli's hand and twirled around, his arms raised in exuberance like a child reveling in joy.
"Welcome to my temple, Charli! Please, don’t hesitate—make yourself comfortable. I did say I wanted to make it up to you, right? For that scary thing back there. I'll make you some tea; how's that sound? At the moment, I’ve only got sencha!" he exclaimed, bounding over to a closet on the far side of the temple. With poise, he swung open one of the doors, retrieving an antique tea set, its pristine white finish furnished with delicate rose gold accents that gracefully outlined the contours of the cups and pitcher.

As soon as Charli's hand was set free, she hastily tucked it into her hoodie's pocket where her other was, grazing up at the twinkling chandelier above her. She was truly captivated to stand in such a place, as if she stepped into a dream. With finer lighting, more of her features became apparent: her complexion a rich tan, resembling caramel accented by a small dark beauty mark just below the left side of her lip. Framing her face were curtain bangs that gently flailed with every motion of her head as she turned to glance at Doma. Her hair, wavy and curly, streamed down to the middle of her back, reaching her elbows.
"I'm not like a real big fan of tea, but—" Her words stumbled in her mouth as she finally caught a clearer glimpse of him. In the glow of moonlight, she had only seen fragments, but now beneath the shimmering chandeliers, every detail of his appearance came into focus. She never anticipated him looking like this; in fact, she never anticipated a demon looking like this. He defied every tale she heard, every terrifying image she ever invented in her mind.

Her gaze was glued to him, starting from his tan hakamas and black tabi socks, moving upward to his striking blood-red turtleneck, fashioned with a dripping black design at the hem, neatly tucked into his pants and cinched with a white belt. The black cloak down his back was a tapestry of purple and black with rectangular patterns that flailed with his movements, and atop his head rested a crown, its two ribbons on each side fluttering. 
Moreover, his platinum locks flowed down his back wild and untamed. Charli couldn't bring herself to believe this was a demon.
As Doma prepared the tea at the kitchen's edge, he glanced at her, who stood idle awkwardly in the temple's center. A wave of discomfort boiled within her as their eyes locked.

"You know, you may sit there if you'd like, it's quite comfy," he offers, nodding his head to the purple bean bag settled under the wooden canopy structure. Blood was still painted across lips and chin, a reminder he was all too aware of. With a flick of his tongue, he licks at the parched crimson remnants, leaving both places glossy with saliva.

Charli's nose scrunched as she watched, a detesting grumble rumbling from her. She then whirls her head back, eyeing the purple bean bag in view behind her. She ambles backward towards it, plopping down on its plush embrace. It nearly swallowed her whole as she sunk down in the middle, her arms writhing as she struggled to lift herself out of its wrath, like she was slowly submerging in quicksand. 

Doma peered back once more, perceiving Charli struggling with a chuckle slipping from his lips.
"Oh, my, oh my. You look like you're having a blast," he remarks as he treads over, teacup held in one hand. He reaches for her hand with his free one, lifting her out of the cushiony pillow properly before offering her the teacup.
"Here you go, Charli. Be careful. It's hot, hot."

She grabs hold of the cup’s dainty handle, bringing it close to her face, gaping down at the yellowish-green tinted liquid smoking from sweltering heat.
"Damn, that was fast. You didn't put any poison in it, did you?" Charli jests. The herbal scent of the tea made her mouth twitch, feeling disgusted. Tea wasn't her favorite; she hated it. But after a day of not eating or drinking anything, she found herself with no other option. She couldn't be picky.

"Poison? What nonsense! If I did put poison in it, you'd die a blissful death, because sencha tea is delicious!—Well, at least it used to be!" Doma marvels as he shrugs his shoulders before merrily treading back to the tea set in the grand kitchen, cleaning it up and neatly placing it back into the closet, promptly shutting the door.

"Used to be?" Charli ponders to herself under her breath. Her lips were placed at the cup's brim taking small sips, occasionally wincing from the heat and distaste. As she gazed into the tea, her reflection in it revealed a face marked by confusion. It was bewildering to her that a demon would so openly invite her to their home, serve her tea, and offer her to stay the night, all to help her in returning home the next morning. There was something off.

"Why are you so nice?" she inquires bluntly, her sight fixed at her reflection in the teacup.

"Huh?" Doma's eyebrows shoot up as he turns from the closet, not expecting Charli's sudden query. Nevertheless, he wasn't hesitant to answer it. He approaches the bean bag with gentle steps, causing her to glance up from her tea, a surge of fright staggering her as the demon drew nearer. To her surprise, he settled down right next to her on the bean bag, and in a flurry, she shifted a good twelve inches away, positioning herself at the very edge, desperate to create as much distance as she could.

"Nobody likes someone who's mean, right?" Doma answers her question with a question, shrugging his shoulders with a clueless grin. 

"Well, yeah, no shit. But you're a demon. Why are you doing all of this? It's weird and—sketchy." Charli narrows her gaze. Half of her thought this could be a deception, yet Doma appeared so sincere. Sincere, but she couldn't shake the feeling of a sinister energy radiating from him. There was an air of mystery surrounding him that was impossible to ignore.

"Oh, no need to ponder. Remember what I told you? I'm very kindhearted, that's all," Doma airily replies, lounging back against the bean bag and folding his arms behind his head.

"Yeah, right," Charli remarks sarcastically before taking another sip of tea.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

★──────★──────★

𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲

"You sound like you don't believe me, Charli," Doma retorts.

"I don't," Charli starts, "I don't believe you're actually a demon. I've never seen one before, but I've heard shit about them, and they sound nothing like you. You look and act like a human, you have a place better than mine and, like—you're prettier than me," she explains, briefly forgetting about the corpse he was feasting on not so long ago.
"Have you ever even looked at yourself in the mirror?"

Doma was candidly bewildered by her reply. He seemed at a loss for words in response, his eyes wide and his mouth in the shape of an O. Yet, he soon lets out a warm chuckle, shaking his head and waving his hand dismissively.
"Of course I have. But, prettier than you? Haha! Nonsense, nonsense! I accept the compliment, though. That holds a special place in my heart, I'll have you know! Nonetheless, I can prove to you that I am no human." He sits up from the purple cushion with a toothy smile, his pearly fangs sharp and bright.

"Uh." Charli's breath catches at her throat, accompanied by a cold shiver tangling up her back.
"I mean, it depends on how you're gonna prove it," she utters, her voice brittle and thin. Her attention then gets captured by a rustle outside, audible enough to be heard inside. Her eyes gawked at the front door before they frantically glanced back at Doma.
"Who's out there?"

"My example," Doma answers before rising up from the bean bag.

"Example?" Charli mouths under her breath, her brows edging near in puzzlement.

Stepping forth in front of his bean bag, he delved into both of his pockets, retrieving two golden war fans, priding both of them open simultaneously. Icy, twinkling frost releases off of them, soon dissipating into thin air. Both fans, burnished with luster, had lotus flowers and leaves carved into their amber radiance that shimmered beneath the chandelier's rays.

"What the f—"
Staggered over the sudden appearance of the weapons, Charli leans back against the cushion, and without any indication or hesitation, he promptly dashed towards the door, busting through it with no restraint. Charli put down the teacup on the floor beside the bean bag and hurried to the door with unwavering hesitancy. There wasn't much she could see from how dark it was outside, primarily in the distance. The only illumination came from within Doma's temple, where the door stood open, complemented by the faint glow of lanterns lining the temple's exterior. The only sounds that pierced the stillness of the night were the swift rustling of bushes and leaves, followed by a curdling scream.

"It's an Upper Moo—!"

The scream abruptly stopped, leaving only the sound of Doma's fan mincing through flesh and bone. The three Demon Slayers present had no opportunity to draw their swords. Doma moved with such speed that he severed the arms and heads of all three before they could react, laughing nonchalantly as their bodies fell to the forest floor with muted thuds, their heads tumbling away.
"So pitiful, I almost want to cry!" Doma leers down at one of the Slayers' heads that rolled near his foot. He retracts his fans, stowing them away in his pockets and bends down to grasp the girl's severed head by her black ponytail. Her face was a mask of emptiness, her grey eyes wide with blood skittered across her cheek.
"See, Charli, did you see that? Was that example good enough?" he shouts out to her, holding up the girl's head triumphantly as if it were a prized trophy. From her severed neck, blood steadily dripped down, painting the ground and grass beneath it red. 

Charli was left stupefied and dazed, contemplating what she just witnessed. It all occurred so fast, she didn't know how to feel or what to feel. The only thing she could was her stomach twisting once again, a surge of repugnance coursing through her.

"Chaaaarliiii—"

As Doma singsonged her name, she without a second thought slammed the temple's door shut hard, causing all the pots on the shelves to rattle and the chandeliers to sway. Her eyes frantically scanned the door, going over its locks, and briskly, she began to fasten them with shaky hands, intent on locking him out. After securing them all, she meanders backwards from the door, her petrified eyes glaring it down. They dart to the sizable windows veiled away by the red, lush curtains before back at the door.
But it wasn't long before her back met with a cold figure, making her jolt and whirl around with a scream, meeting the demon that was just outside.

"Did you really think you could lock me out of my own temple, Charli?" Doma says, a buoyant grin dressing his fair complexion.

"What?!" Muddled, Charli's head whips around, her eyes flicking at the closed and locked door. She points at it before swiveling her head back, her gaze reuniting with his.

"Did you like what I did? Was that example good enough for you?" Doma inquires.

”No! I didn't like what you did—what the actual fuck is wrong with you?! Nobody is going to like that; unless—they're some damn psychopath, then yeah!" Charli's voice grew louder, her eyes glistened with tears as a mix of disgust and frustration.
"I believe you now if that's what you really wanted, for Christ sake." She grimaces, propping a hand to her forehead and wincing her eyes, the sounds of his fan cutting through flesh replaying in her head, along with the sounds of their bodies and heads thumping to the ground.
"I get it, you're fucking disgusting. Thanks so much for that."

"Dis—what?" The smile on Doma's face almost immediately vanished upon hearing Charli's remarks, the elated glow in his multi-hues fading.
"How could you say such spiteful things like that? I was just trying to prove to you your doubts."

"Okay, but there was no need to be so goddamn rash about it! Like, you just had to prove it in the most terrible way possible right in front of—" Charli's provoking words cease midway after reopening her eyes and taking notice to Doma's deadpan glare. Her heart slumped into her stomach as she lowers her hand from her forehead.

After a prolonged, eerie silence, Doma finally speaks.
"You know, you're really prickly. All I did was justify that I'm a demon. You were foolish enough to overlook my appearance in the first place. And you also saw me eating someone, I almost forgot! Wow, your noggin up there sure is small, huh?" Maintaining his inscrutable expression, he gently knocks on his head before reaching into his right pocket, retrieving one of his fans. The one he chose was the same one used to kill the Demon Slayers, as blood was streaked across its gold shimmer.
Charli's entire body fell numb. Her eyes gaped blankly at him and his war fan, feeling both her stomach and heart plunge down to her knees. Doma took steps closer, drawing his fan up, aiming it right for her neck.
She had no reaction at all. Her only option was to stand idle and accept the consequences of her ignorance. She knew she wouldn't be fast enough to try and make an escape, so she couldn't muster up any courage to try. With her eyes shut tight, she braced herself for the inevitable experience of what lies after life—a prospect that terrified her—but she had to accept it.

In a flash, Charli heard Doma's fan swing, followed by a sharp stinging pang on the side of her neck, soon feeling warm liquid trickle down into her hoodie. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, clutching her neck with both hands, feeling her head still attached to it.

"So sorry, Charli!" Doma's outwardly charismatic tone reemerged as he swiftly closed his fan, slipping it back into his pocket. "I just really needed to do that to you, is all."

Charli felt a narrow cut along the side of her neck. She wiped her palm over it and glanced down, bright fresh blood staining her forefinger and middle finger.
"What the fuck?"

"I've made up my mind. How about I take you home now? I don't really want to see you at this moment." The pitch in Doma's voice promptly drops again, along with the merriment in his face.

Charli raised an eyebrow, perplexed by the sudden shift in his mood once again.
"Okay?" She cluelessly agrees in a taut voice, wiping the blood off her fingers on her orange hoodie, its color visibly smearing across the vibrant fabric.

"You really shouldn't touch cuts with un-sanitized hands, by the way. They could get infected," Doma states as he strolls past Charli toward the door, undoing the locks.

"Oh," she mumbles, clenching her hand tight with her other, her eyes going wide in realization. Once the locks were unfastened, Doma prides open the door, sauntering out in a flash.

"Wait!" Charli calls out, scurrying after him outside.

He trudged a good ten feet before pausing, his back turned to her. Charli also came to a stop behind him, watching intently as she observed the way his cloak, hair, and crown danced in the lingering breeze that sent her shivers.
"Charli, which village do you live at?" The demon's somber voice spoke.

Before answering, Charli reached back, pulling up her hood over her head and bracing herself with her arms tight.
"Uh, it's called Mishimeya Village. It's poor, and—not a very popular village, so. Not many people know it or live there," she sheepishly says with puffy vapor leaving her mouth.
Doma's temple door suddenly slammed shut firmly by the wind, prompting Charli to jolt and peer back at it, startled.
"Jeez . . ."

"Ah, I know where that is! It's not too far from here, no worries. Follow the leader!" Doma's enthusiasm returned as he began to march, leading the way.
As he began, Charli stood behind for mere seconds, taking a sharp huff of breath before she took the first step, beginning to follow him through the shadowy forest echoing with distant cricket chirps and owl hoots.

And thus, tonight marks a change for a lifetime.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

★──────★──────★

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

As Doma continued to play follow the leader, the frightened girl's eyes darted in every single direction on the look out for any other demons. Despite everything she had experienced and witnessed so far, she found herself surprisingly unafraid of him. She figured that if he truly wanted to kill and eat her, he would have done so decisively, instead of merely inflicting a harmless cut on her neck, akin to a cat's scratch. However, she couldn't help but notice his behavior had become increasingly peculiar. His charm appeared to fluctuate, and although he was clearly aware of her shivering and chattering teeth from the cold, he offered no assistance.

She'd half expected him to let her use his cloak for the time being as an extra layer of warmth, yet that was way out of her assumption. He didn't even look back at her once. She believed that her harsh words had caused his strange behavior, but if her remarks truly did affect him, she was expecting more than for him to just simply be upset with her, and that's what left her intrigued.
Her mind raced once again like a freeway as she watched his long platinum hair and cloak vaguely drift behind him, along with the two twirling ribbons on either side of his crown.

Hurrying up from behind him, Charli taps his shoulder.
"Hey," she musters, severing their silence.

"Yes?" Doma softly responds, his head remaining forward.

"Are you, like—I mean, does the cold not bother you? You seem to be just fine while I'm, like, freezing my ass off back here, and I have this hoodie on. Also, how long have you been growing out your hair? I've never seen a dude with hair as long as yours."

"No, the cold weather doesn't bother me at all. And I'm not too sure; years perhaps," Doma’s quick to answer Charli’s inquiries, sounding reluctant and inexpressive. 

"Mm," Charli hummed, bobbing her head upon hearing her answers that left her unsatisfied. The roles switched, and now Charli wanted to engage him in a chitchat he didn't care for, as he had done the same during their encounter not so long ago. 

The little trip extended for at least ten more minutes, with Charli continuously poking trivial questions at him that he'd unwillingly answer. The forced small talk made the short journey end quicker. Doma ultimately drew to a sudden halt, leading Charli to hastily stop behind him, awaiting his next move.

"We’re here, Charli! Your village is right down that hill there," Doma exclaims as he points to a pathway down a steep hill bombarded with undergrowth that lead to the village.

"Oh, shit, yeah. This is the path I came from way earlier. Christ, I got lost pretty far in these woods. Thanks—for helping me back." Charli bashfully grins and shrugs, a wave of awkwardness striking her chest.

"You're welcome," Doma aridly retorts, awfully expressionless once more. And with that, he spun around, strolling back through the same path that lead there, soon disappearing within the midst of the tenebrous forest, leaving her lonesome.

Charli remained transfixed, staring at the spot where he had vanished, her brows knitted together in confusion.
"All right . . . that happened. This is how fever dreams be. I don't even wanna go home," she murmured, pivoting around and heading down the bumpy pathway cautiously. The shrouding darkness was too thick for her to make out her feet, prompting her to take cautious steps to prevent her from tripping and falling. She grasped nearby trees for stababilty as she descended. Upon reaching the bottom, she made her way home through the silent village, where not a single person was in sight. It was far too late for anyone to be out and about.

Seizing her arms tight with them folded, she tucked in her chapped lips, her eyes narrowed.
Whatever they say, just . . . don't pay attention to them. They're in the wrong, not me.

Her hand grabbed the old, rusty doorknob to the house, priding the door open, relieved for it to be open. Sometimes, when her parents wanted to play the petty game, they'd lock the door whenever she'd flee after a fight, and let her sit outside for hours, no matter what the weather was like.
As the door slowly opened, it blaringly creaked, prompting her to open it more slowly, silencing it. Once again, she was greeted with stench of musky mold and a dim, gloomy home. The fascination that had swelled in her had plummeted, and she was now back to her harsh reality. What she just experienced was undeniably frightening, but taking a breather from reality was a welcome relief. And it was probably something she'd never get to experience again.

With a sharp, vexed sigh, she stepped in and swung the door shut behind her before navigating her way through the dark house toward the staircase, the rugged wooden floor boards beneath her groaning with every step she took.

"Where have you been?" A familiar irking voice and figure stops Charli from successfully making it to the stairs. "Do you even know how late it is, Charli?! Where did you even go? We—oh, my God—what the fuck happened to you?!"

"Mom—stop, I was—I'm fine," Charli dismissively says, taking a few steps back as her mother was scrutinizing her clothes that were soiled with dirt, specifically her hoodie that had bloodstains. 

"And your neck, it's bleeding?!" she exclaims out, her panicked hand reaching toward Charli's neck.

As a quick reaction, Charli swats away her hand and tugged her hoodie's strings, tightening the hood around her head to conceal her neck.
"It's dry blood. Can you chill out? I just fell and cut my neck, I'm perfectly fine."

"You better watch that snarky attitude, shitbird. You running away to I don't know where isn't gonna help with anything, your ass knows that. This will be the last time you do this because you've gotten on my last nerve, do you understand me?" Her mother raised her voice vehemently, her dark eyes widened as she pointed her finger at Charli. 

"I don't even have an attitude, man," Charli mumbles, her hands in her hoodie pockets as she had her head pivoted to the side, glaring up at the dim, sullied ceiling, deliberately avoiding eye contact. 

"Do you understand me?" her mother exclaims once again, her impatience heightened. 

"Yes," Charli answers solemnly, her eyes rolling before they darted down to her mother's.

"You better. Get your ass upstairs. And also, apologize to your father tomorrow morning. He went out for an hour looking for you in that cold weather," she says, ambling towards the front door, fastening its rusty lock. 

Charli makes it halfway up the staircase before pausing to glance back at her mother.
"I was planning on doing that—going to my room, I mean; not apologizing to Dad," she remarks pettily before continuing up the stairs.

Her mother squinted her eyes with her nose scrunching, evidently irritated by the childish comment. Instead of retaliating to provoke another fight, she pointed her middle finger at Charli as she ascended up the staircase, letting her go without more of a hassle. 

Upon entering her vacant room, Charli intentionally slammed the door shut behind her, throwing herself onto her beige futon, resting her hands on her stomach as she lost herself in her notions. 
"I don't get it, dude," she mumbled to herself, pressing her hand against her neck where the scratch was caked with dried blood.
"The demons in those dumb stories I heard literally showed no mercy to every human. They were like—I don’t know. Lions and zebras. Predator hunting prey. Some shit like that. Demons are supposed to kill and eat humans on sight. Right?" She continued to herself, her gaze drifting toward the window in her bedroom. There, the crescent moon, a mystical jewel adorning the deep royal blue sky, seemed to gaze back at her. That same moon that illuminated her every path when she was once lost not so long ago.

She rose from her futon, treading towards the window and leaning her forearms on the sill. Grazing upon the alluring sky, the sound of crickets and raccoons chittering from afar, along the sound of a very distant train horn accompanied the tranquil night.

"So why didn't you?"

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

★──────★──────★

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Despite it being late, around three in the morning, Charli took herself a bath to freshen up before bed. She was beyond exhausted, yet couldn't bear the thought of going to sleep dirty. Leaves and other debris caught in her hair and clothes, the dry blood on her neck.

She presumed a serene hot bath would help ease her to sleep, but she thought wrong. After slipping into her pajamas—a simple white oversized shirt and grey sweatpants—she lied down on her futon, pulling her black knitted blanket over her snugly. She gawked up at the yellow-tinged ceiling marred by cracks of various sizes. Almost everything in the house had a yellow tint due to both her parents constantly smoking indoors, so much that the majority of her clothing smelled like smoke all the time, no matter how many times she'd wash them. 
She could admit she'd smoked a lot before, in spite of her finding it unappealing. It felt justified to her. It was a way to escape her problems, even if only for a short time.

But she’d never let it become an addiction like the way her parents did. She could tolerate it hell of a lot better than they ever could, and she despised them so much that she wouldn't ever let herself succumb to a nicotine addiction, solely because they had one. She refused follow their footsteps, no matter what it was.

A soft sigh escaped her lips before she rolled over on her side, shutting her eyes to replay the events of her strange night, even creating fake scenarios. Some being good, like potentially encountering the demon again, and some being bad, like if she actually did die when he swung his fan at her neck, and is imagining this all as she's slowly bleeding out on the floor of his temple. Or if he let her live and lead her back home to make her believe and hope she's safe, but isn't. Thoughts like so always plagued her head and made her overthink, even though it was only her anxiety attempting to scare her.

Her eyes fluttered open as a cold draft swept into the room, prompting the open curtains that dressed either side to flail. She tossed aside her blanket and stood up, making her way to the window. With one hand on the window's sash, she pushed it down hard, securing it with a firm lock. It wasn't only the chilly air that bothered her; her mind had conjured up an unsettling image of Doma climbing in through the window.

She tumbled back into her futon, feeling a sense of relief with the window now locked. She almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Like a lucid dream she couldn’t wake up from, or a reality shift she couldn't escape. After two decades filled with monotony and neglect from her sole family and friends, an event like this unfolding left her feeling as though she had stepped into a surreal dream.

Eventually, Charli shut her eyes again, imagining more scenarios; mostly ones that frightened her. Imagining scenarios before sleeping always helped her doze off a lot faster. They were like a form of escaping reality, forgetting about her parents and all the imperfections woven within her life. And ultimately after a good fifteen minutes, her eyes grew heavy and sore, her head feeling like she was spinning repeatedly as she drifted off to sleep.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"So, you ever gonna tell me what happened last night?" Charli's mother pried, folding kimonos and shirts and dropping them into baskets. Charli had spent the entire morning outdoors, attending to the laundry and an array of repetitive household tasks, just as she did each day. The azure sky stretched above, impeccably clear of any clouds, while the sun's warm, radiant beams cascaded down gently, bestowing a lively touch upon every corner of the village.
The day's morning was unexpectedly warm for mid-January, a month typically associated with winter in Japan, which was why yesterday's night was so brutal. 

Charli was one to love warm weather more than cold. Summer was her favorite season, even though she never had much to do during it; she enjoyed the heat. During the summer, she spent most of her days either helping her mother with chores or going hunting with her father, where she practiced handling and firing a rifle. While it never was the most enjoyable experiences for her, the balmy weather helped her stay relaxed, allowing her to tune out her parents.

In her younger days, summer was somewhat more enjoyable because she had friends that she'd mingle with outside. However, she hasn't spoken to or hung out with those friends in over two years, and she had her reasons. 

"I already told you; I tripped and fell and cut my neck. Why do you even care so much?" Charli snapped, snatching a shirt down from two clothing pins that were hooked on a laundry wire.

"Because I know you're lying. If you run off late at night for hours, then come home dirty as shit with a gash on your neck at two o’clock in the morning, I think I deserve to know what happened," she asserted, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's a scratch, not a gash, Saskia," Charli mumbled.

Surprised, her mother propped one hand on her hip and the other at her side with her head tilted.
"Really? You're seriously gonna call me by my name again? You're lucky I’m in too good of a mood today to smack you again," she flares, bending down and picking up the basket, swiveling away.
Before heading inside, she stops, snapping her head around.
"Did you apologize to your dad before he left this morning?"

"No," Charli answers, her pitch low and reluctant as she kept her view down, continuing to fold the shirt.

Rolling her eyes, her mother scoffs, shaking her head as she whips back forward, ambling towards the house.
"Ridiculous little girl. Nothing will teach her," she murmured under her breath. 

Charli watched her disappear into the house, a bothered and provoked glare flushed on her eyes. With her chest sweltered in her pounding temper, she finished folding the shirt sloppily, throwing it into the basket.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

After another excruciatingly long day, Charli emitted out a sharp sigh, leaning her forearms on the porch railing. Throughout the hours, her mother kept nagging her each time she could, and her father tagged along once he returned home, forcing an apology out of her. Her patience with them was being held by toothpicks.
She suppressed a significant amount of anger and resentment towards them, which became increasingly difficult for her to withhold the more they irked her her. She often caught herself making fake scenarios of something tragic happening to them, and the thoughts brought her relief and amuse. But it also frightened her how her own mind made up dark concepts as so first place. She was fueled with loads of detestation, but the one thing that brought her peace was the sky, particularly during twilight.

Noon was around, and the sky was shaded an ocean blue that faded into a mango orange in an ombré effect like a dreamy water color painting. Charli found solace in the sky's embrace, for no matter the hour, it always gave her a sense of tranquility. Although she wished she could see it more often. The times she could were normally times where she'd be doing something with one of her parents outside, and couldn't get caught spacing out, or else she'd get scolded. 
Looming at the wondrous twilight, its hues began to remind her of Doma's eyes. She had to admit, they were exceptionally unique. She'd never seen such mesmerizing eyes before, including the strange numbers engraved into them and his hair. She'd only ever seen people with generic black or dark brown hair with either doe eyes or light brown ones.

"Do demons come out when the sun starts setting, or when it’s fully down?" Charli inquired to herself, placing her right elbow on the porch railing, holding up her head in her palm.

"You talking about demons again?" The voice of her father chimed from behind her.

She jolted, jerking her head over her shoulder and perceiving him walk out the front door while lighting up a cigarette. He took a long drag before clutching the cigarette with his pointer finger and thumb, blowing out puffs of spoke from his nose and mouth.
"I already told you, they don't exist. Those stories you hear are fake. They're just myths to scare them dumb kids to stay inside after dark. That thickheaded skull of yours should be focused on tomorrow. You're coming hunting with me, and you better get a shot. Can't afford another dinnerless night because you're too lazy to apply yourself," he says, walking off the porch and unwittingly meandering off to the side of the house. 

She watched him disappear beyond the side before she rolled her eyes. “Prick,” she murmured to herself. “Don’t wanna fucking go.” 

Her father always forced her to go hunting with him despite her disliking it. She wasn’t so fond over the idea of killing animals, but it did put food on the table. But that wasn't the part she hated most. What she hated the most was the fact that she'd get yelled at if she'd miss a shot.
Even though she'd spend most of her summer's practicing her aim, it was still a tedious thing to successfully do, especially if someone as austere as her father was right beside her, looming over her shoulder and scrutinizing her every move, ready to rebuke anything she did that he approve of. He expected her to pick up anything he taught her in the snap of a finger, and if she didn't, he'd deem her lazy or stupid. 

"What time is it? Seven?" she asks herself, leaning up from the railing. She turned, one hand clasping the railing as she continued to leer into the sky's mystic twilight. She gave more sincere thought about what she was going to try to do, and once her heart agreed with her mind, she let go of the railing, sauntering inside the house and navigating her way into the living room where her mother was.
She was lying across the old stained couch, a book cracked open in her hand and a smokey cigarette in the other.

"Mom," she utters, the proximity between them short as she peered down towards her, fumbling with the strings of her black hoodie. Black was a color she'd usually be seen sporting a lot.
Her mom’s eyes trailed up her book to meet Charli's. She took a short drag from her cigarette before nodding.

"So—there's a tempura shop I wanted to go to, to get us some dinner since . . . we haven't had any dinner in a couple days," Charli lies, feeling a thick lump snowball up at the core her throat.

"Tempura shop? There's no tempura shop around here. Since when does this poor ass village have a tempura shop?" she responds, her eyes narrowing.
Charli panicked for a moment, but she knew she had to prepare herself for a response like this. She hated when nobody followed the little fake script she'd always make in her head before speaking to someone. 

"There is, it's new actually. When I went out yesterday, I passed by it and it looked like it was just built. It's, like, fifteen minutes away, I don’t mind going now. And if I don't come back with anything, then they were probably closed.”

Her mother snagged a glare from top to bottom before pursing her lips and shrugging her shoulders. The puffy potent smoke from her cigarette lingered around, and it didn’t bother Charli one bit. She was already used to it and couldn’t care less.
"Yeah, I guess. Don't know why you're being so nice all of a sudden, though. Since when do you wanna buy dinner? You always got that bitchy attitude."

"I don’t have a damn atti—" Charli stops, almost forgetting it’s pointless to argue. With either of her parents. Scoffing while putting a hand to her face, she shakes her head.
"Yeah—whatever. I'm gonna go now, then," she turns, making her way out the living room back to the door.

""Whatever?" Pshh. Okay," her mother snarks in annoyance, clearly not liking Charli's retort.
"You better be back by eight. You're going hunting with your dad tomorrow morning, so I don't wanna hear any of that "I'm tired" shit," she mocks, mimicking Charli's voice jeeringly before going back to reading her book, taking another long drag from her cigarette.

Charli stops, clenching her fists and tucking in her lips before nodding, feeling irritation poke at her chest. She wanted to snap back with an immature remark like she always does, but she just wanted to leave as soon as possible. Snapping back would only provoke an unwanted screaming match that would prolong until ten in the night. 
"All right," she solemnly responds, gesturing out both her hands before ultimately hurrying towards the front door, stepping out and slamming it behind her.

“Fuck yeeeessss!!” she mentally cheers, scurrying off the porch and soon running.
"All right, so I just needa go up that pathway and—Jesus Christ, I'm already out of breath—bad stamina," she wheezes breathlessly, the back of her throat and mouth already parching. 

Tonight was a little warmer compared to last night, so she was at least a bit happy she wasn’t being frozen half to death. As she jogged through the village, not one soul was to be seen anywhere outside. Could be because they believed in demons, or could also be because the majority of people who lived in this village were old and boring, and all went inside at seven or even six. Although she was glad no one was outside because nobody would have to see her running. Running in front of people was so embarrassing to her.

She continued her adventure, finally making her way to the steep pathway up the hill. Stopping in front of it, planting her hands on her knees, she practically pants.
"Found you . . . but holy shit, I should have brought water."
She coughs into her hoodie sleeve, leaning up and hauling her way up the path. The once again crescent moon was already dressed in the sky, raying her mystical shine, granting her light to see through the gloom. She cautiously stepped over rocks and thick tree roots that prodded up from the ground, forcing her way up to the top.

"All right. Now where the hell did he—I remember he took, like, two turns, then continued to go straight for, like—five-ish minutes . . . so let's just do that.” After conversing with herself, her fingers pointing in different directions, she continues her escapade. 
In the back of her mind, she hoped she wouldn't bump into any other demons because they most definitely wouldn't let her live this time. And she also hoped she wouldn't end up having to repeat getting lost in the woods once again. The warm wind blew through the trees, and the various animals screeched and hollered from afar, making Charli receive the same fear she had when she first realized she was lost last night. But she tried her greatest to remain calm and trudged for more than ten minutes, now approaching vague lights in the far distance.

Doma's victims from yesterday were completely gone, making her feel better since she didn't have to witness them again, but it also left her disturbed knowing he likely ate all four corpses. 

"Is that it? Holy shit, I really did it.” She mentally gives herself a pat on the back before sprinting up to his temple, stopping at the antique closed door.

"All right, shit, um—what do I say? Oh, fuck, this is awkward . . . uh," Charli mumbles before knocking on the door three times.
"Doma? Yo, it's me—Charli. You helped me yesterday, remember? I was lost in the woods, and—yeah; that’s it," she announces, her hands smacking down against her thighs, awaiting a response.
But that response never came. It remained silent for moments more before Charli knocked again, louder this time around.

"Hellooo? Are you even there?" She knocks some more, feeling a pain at her chest since she was really hoping he'd be there. "Maybe he's—out hunting? I don't know," she inquires to herself, taking a step back from the door. She attempted to peak through one of the windows beside the door, but it was shielded by the lavish red curtains that were parted open by an inch. She closed one eye, squinting the other trying her best to descry anything she could through the one-inch opening. 

"Dammit, man. Can't even see anything. I'm not gonna wait out here alone, I'll just come back tomorrow," she says before whipping around, starting away from his temple, shoving her hands in her hoodie pockets, feeling defeated. 

"You're all so cold to me . . ."

Swiftly, Charli stops in her tracks and whirls around, glaring back at the temple door after hearing a familiar voice chime from inside. Her eyes go wide as she hurries back towards the door, knocking on it again repeatedly with vigor.
"Heellooooooo??"

"Huh?—Charli, could that be you?! I recognize that voice!" Doma's ringing voice blaring from inside gradually began to edge closer towards the door, along with steep footsteps. He swung it open, wearing a huge smile on his face that stretched from ear to ear. Although he looked quite different compared to yesterday; he wasn't sporting the cloak and crown.
"Oh, no—you haven't been knocking for long, have you?" His smile altered into a worried frown.

"Oh—" Charli’s eyes go wide in surprise over his sudden appearance, taking a few steps back.
"No, no!—I literally just got here, like, two seconds ago. Did you not hear the door at first? I knocked damn near a thousand times.”

"No, I didn't! I was at an Upper Moon meeting, and man, was it horrid! Two Upper Moons died!—Well, technically one, and the Master was so upset, he didn't let me tag along with Hantengu and Gyokko! And even Biwa Lady didn't wanna hang out with me.” Doma pouts, folding his arms. 

"Uh." Charli looked dazed, trying to comprehend everything he just threw at her.
"Upper Moon meeting?"

"Yeah! There's six Upper Moons in total, but one unfortunately passed away today, so now there's only five, how sad . . . oh, right! I'm Upper Moon Two, by the way!" Doma's glum pout promptly altered to a face of pure elation. Charli noticed his change in demeanor, it was a bit different compared to yesterday. A lot different. He was more hyper, and she found it wholly amusing.

"Upper Moon Two? Is that why you have that written in your eyes?" Charli asks, pointing to his eyes.

"Yup, yup! There were also Lower Moons too; we were once all called the Twelve Kizuki! But the Master killed off all of them except one, but he was also killed by a bunch of nobodies!" Doma exclaims, planting his hands on his hips with a prideful beam.

"I see . . . okay, that's cool!—Anyways, I wanted to, like, apologize for making you mad yesterday. I was honestly kinda dramatic and got—actually, no, I wasn’t dramatic. Pretty sure any person would react the same way I did, but that’s beside the point. I said some mean shit to you and made you upset, so. Yeah."

"Making me mad?" Doma questions, his head tilting inquisitively. 
"Charli, you didn't make me mad at all."

"What do you mean? I did; after I called you disgusting and whatever else I said, you got so cold and—weird, so I thought I hurt your feelings or something, I don’t know, man." Charli says, folding her arms.

"My feelings," Doma mumbles under his breath, leaning against the doorway, also folding his arms over his chest.
"I don't know what those are."

"Wh—" One of Charli's eyes narrows as the other widens in bewilderment, not expecting a response like that.
"What?"

"Even as a human, I've been oblivious to human emotions. I can't feel anything. Anger, sadness, fear. It's all just a blur to me, I was born with it," Doma explains.

"Wait—seriously? How's that even possible? Everyone has emotions. Well, I mean there can be times where a person can feel numbed out, but there's no way someone can be born without emotions. Are you sure you didn't feel anything? Because you seemed pretty upset to me," Charli enunciated, looking Doma up and down warily.

"Hmm . . . well, I did feel my face and chest get really hot, which I'm not familiar to at all! It was after you said all those mean things when I was just trying to prove to you your doubts.” 

"So you felt like that after—uh—that literally sounds like you were upset," Charli suggests, shrugging her shoulders.

"Oh, really? I felt anger?!" Doma's fluorescent eyes sparkle as he cups his cheeks in both his palms.

"Uh—yeah," Charli snickers, "I feel that way when my parents piss me off. Also, can I come in? It's getting cold out here."

Doma's eyes widen a bit over Charli's question, seeming rather confused on how she was so comfortable to ask to enter in where a demon resides. Nevertheless, his smile returned as he shuffled out of the doorway, allowing her to enter.
"Sure!" 

Upon his approval, Charli walks in, once again greeting his beautifully dressed temple, capturing every single characteristic. She almost felt envious knowing that a demon had a home that was ten times nicer than hers. The environment of the temple felt remarkably fresh and clean, whereas her home was vastly muggy, moldy and sullied.
After sneaking more glances at all the boujee vases and pots that were elegantly designed on the shelves, she whirls around, folding her arms.
"So why haven't you killed me yet? That's pretty much why I came all the way out here for, besides the apology. I wanted to ask why you didn’t kill me yesterday, and why haven't you killed me yet now that you literally have the perfect opportunity to?” 

Doma swings the door shut and his attention lands back on her, a mischievous smirk growing at the corners of his lips.
"Would you like me to kill you?" he banters as he retrieves one of his golden fans from his pocket.

She goes wide eyed in sudden panic, and she backs up quick, holding out her hand.
"What the fuck?!—Wait!" she utters out as she accidentally falls back onto his bean bag, once again swallowed by its wrath.

"HAHA! Oh, dear, you humans are frightened so, so easily," Doma chuckles, dropping his fan back into his pocket and waving his hand. 

Charli’s brows draw close, her lip sneering with embarrassment. She eases her way out from his bean bag, rising from it to her feet and once again folding her arms, keeping her assertive demeanor.
"I know you aren't going to. You would have already, and you had all the chance to in the world yesterday, but you just cut my neck. So I wanted to ask why?"

"Why?" Doma repeats, placing a finger on his chin inquisitively. 
"I don't know why. I'm feeling some inexplicable thing within me; I felt it yesterday, too! You're so weird, Charli! At first I thought it was just my imagination. I was planning on killing you, I really was. Whenever I come across a lost person out here, I invite them to stay here, then I kill them! Or I just kill them right on the spot if they’re stubborn. It’s one way I kill ever since the cult’s been gone. But you, you're different. Out of my one hundred thirty-three years of being a demon, I've never came across someone as bold or as brave as you, especially a girl. I sense no fear at all!" he exclaims with a cheery voice. 

"Wait! Rewind—you're—you're one hundred and thirty-three?! What the fuck, Doma, shouldn't you be on the verge of dropping dead?!" Charli freaked out dramatically before jerking forward, ardently searching for any wrinkles on his perfect face, failing to find any.

Doma cackles, shaking his head and waving his hands.
“No, nooo! Charli, demons are immortal, you see. We live for eternity without decay, isn't it so amazing?! I remember when I was first turned into a demon; I was twenty, so chronologically, I’m twenty years old, and I will be forever!" he puts his hands on his hips, giving her a smug grin.

"Ohhhh, okay, Jesus Christ, that makes more sense. I was gonna ask that. I was gonna ask if you were born a demon, or became one. Also, I'm twenty as well. I just turned twenty, like, two weeks ago. My birthday's the third of January," Charli says as her eyes continue to explore around his temple cordially. 

"All demons were once people! When they turn into one, they mentally stay their human age. Even if they're a thousand years old as a demon, they'll basically always be their original human age! Also is that so? Well, happy belated birthday!" Doma exclaims in his charismatic, tender voice that filled the temple.

"That makes sense, that's kinda cool, actually, and thanks," Charli responds as her eyes peer back to Doma with a smile. She uncrosses her arms and puts her hands in her hoodie pockets. 
"So remember how you said that Biwa girl didn't wanna hang out with you? I can hang out with you, if you want.” 

"Wait, wait! Really? Ooohhh, that makes me feel so nice! I'm not too sure about what I feel, but it's great!" Doma hugs himself, his cheeks flushing a rosy red. 

"Christ, dude, your cheeks are redder than a damn tomato," Charli playfully quips.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

★──────★──────★

𝐍𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞

"Is that why you won't kill me? You have a cruuuuush," Charli jeers, leaning in close.

"A what?" Doma pondered in sheer confusion, remaining idle in his spot despite Charli’s proximity. 

"You know, now that I notice it, what's that on your head?" she asks, pointing at the red and black stain on top of his hair.

"Eh? What do you mean?" He raises his arm and plants his hand right on the stain.

"Yeah, that!" Charli emphasizes, lowering her hand while nodding. 

"Ohhh, Charli, this is part of my hair! See?" He leans down, carding his slender fingers through the marking.

"Holy shit, really? Can I touch it?" she asks for no reason because she didn't even bother to wait for his answer. She just went ahead and began carding her own fingers through the stain.
"Damn, your hair's so soft, what the hell. It's really pretty. Did you dye this part with hair dye?"

He wasn't expecting her to go ahead and touch it without his answer, so he stood dazed for a moment, but in the end he didn't mind at all and simply closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her playing with his hair. 
"Mm—mm," he soon hums as he shook his head. 
"I didn't dye it, it appeared when I became a demon, but my hair is naturally blond. It was blond when I was born!" 

"Seriously? I have never seen someone with blond hair. I dyed my tips hot pink, it's one of my favorite colors," Charli says as she lowers her hands, now messing with her own hair, her fingers carding through the pink dyed portion.

"Your hair looks more of a platinum blond though, which is even cooler. Oh! And you know something else I noticed?" Charli quickly jumps from one thing to another as she promptly grabs one of his hands, catching him off guard.

"Your hands are, like, hella cold. What, are demons cold-blooded or some shit?" 

"Cold-blooded?! Pffffft! Nooo! My entire body temperature is really low possibly because of my Blood Demon Art," Doma answers as he let her hold and study his hand. 

"Blood Demon Art? The hell’s that?" she asks as she gives Doma back his hand, both her own in her hoodie pockets now.

"They are special abilities some demons have! All the Upper Moons have them, and the Lower Moons had them too, before they all died . . . so sad. Anyways, my Blood Demon Art is centered around ice," He elucidates.

"Ice? Can I see, can you show me?" Charli insists, utterly intrigued now as she backed up, taking a seat on his bean bag.

"Sure I can!" Doma frantically nods, and he cups one hand over the other, shutting his eyes. Twinkling frost shimmered from in between his fingers, soon disappearing into thin air, and in mere moments, he lifted his hand from the other, revealing a little crystalized ice figure that looked exactly like Charli, wearing the same clothes with the same posture, standing in his palm.

"Look, Charli! I made you!" he chuckles, giving her a closed-eye honeyed smile.

Her eyes go wide in absolute disbelief, getting up from his bean bag and slowly ambling towards him, looming at the crystallized figure that looked just like her. It glistened and twinkled, radiating a powerful, mystical aura. It illuminated off of her brown eyes, and a smile gradually formed at her lips.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she utters in breathless awe. 

Doma snickers over her reaction and waves his other hand. 
"I swear I’m not! Do you like it?”

"Um—yeah, no SHIT! That's—that's fucking incredible! Can I touch it?!" Charli was sweltered with exhilaration as she asks, not taking her eyes off the figure and raising her hand above it to snag it. 

"Mm-hmm! You can hold it if you'd like." Doma lowers his hand, allowing her access to grab it.

She didn’t waste any time and snatched it from his palm, her eyes fulfilled with astonishment as she turned it all around, studying it keenly.
"This is SO sick!! Oh, my God . . . can I eat it?" Her face goes blank as she glares up at him, destined to know his answer. 

”EAT it?! Oh, my goodness, why do you want to do that?! HAHA! That is such a random question!" Doma bursts into laughter, a bright beam on his face with his sharp canines unveiling. For him it felt oddly pleasant to not have to force a laugh.

"I love to eat ice," Charli chuckles with a shrug. "It's fun to do when you're bored or hot, I don't know. But—I really can't believe demons have superpowers! I thought they were just, like, plain man-eating freaks! But they legit have real POWERS!" Charli really couldn't grasp her head around everything that was happening. It really was like a fever dream.

"Yeah, you could call it that! There's all types of Blood Demon Art!" Doma puts a hand on his hip, raising up his pointer finger, beaming big with his eyes closed.

"That's so damn COOOOL!!!"

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅••❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

A couple hours flew by, and Charli gradually got to know Doma a little more, laughing and genuinely having fun, which was something she'd hardly ever get to do. She began to realize that Doma didn't really seem like a threat to her at all. He just simply seemed like he wanted someone to talk to, just like her. And for once in her life, she feel like she actually got the thing she wanted most.

A friend.

She had friends back then, but it'd be wise to not even describe them as "friends". They weren't the greatest people. They picked on Charli a lot for her insecurities, and over the fact that she was more poor than them, and she quite frankly never felt comfortable around them. She never felt comfortable to be herself because they'd often judge her for small things, like if she was too loud, or too excited, too quiet, too exaggerative.

It'd make her spiral into a pit of shame, and is what also tied into her early depression. However, Charli still hung out with them since they were the only people that would talk to her. Even though they'd hurt her feelings to the brim and make her cry under her bedsheets at night and hate her body for being a little more chubby than theirs, they were the only people she had besides her parents.

Eventually she had to stop hanging out with them because they moved out of her village to a more high-class one miles down West, and she had to admit, she only missed them because spending time with them at least got her out the house. At that time, she was sixteen, and she met them when she was fourteen.

Her whole life she's only been around negative people that'd weigh her down and expect her to respect them despite showing no respect to her, so it was fairly easy for her to grow attached to Doma in this small timeframe. She knew he was bad and most definitely devoured hundreds of people considering what she watched him do yesterday, but it left her bewildered on how a demon’s been treating her much better than anyone has ever treated her so far in her life.

What also left her thoroughly awestruck is how demons did actually exist and they had a lot more to them than she thought and heard. They seemed to have some sort of master, and some had psionic abilities, and some didn't. It was something straight out of a fantasy novel, or a comic. A dream.

It was enough for Charli to believe that it was a dream she couldn't wake up from, and she frankly didn't want to wake up from it.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅••❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

"WOOAAHH!!! You have such amazing talents, dude!! Holy shit!" Charli clapped, sitting crissed-crossed on his bean bag. Doma had just done a few tricks with his fans, spinning them outstandingly fast, tossing them and catching them in the opposite hand while they were still rotating at incredible speeds, and other tricks that left her completely staggered; staggered on his reflexes and how swift he was. She imagined if she tried to do that, she'd probably cut her entire body into pieces instantaneously.

"Thanks, Charli! You’re easy to entertain. These feeble tricks are nothing compared to any of my hefty moves!" Doma's voice was laced with enthusiasm as he raised a fan up and lowered the other, lifting one leg up and drawing out his glistened tongue, creating an extravagant pose. 

"Pfft, what the hell?! You look amazing,” she chuckles over his whimsical stance. “And of course I’m easy to entertain. You think I see this shit everyday? I was always really skeptical over demons because I just figured they were like any other mythical creature, and my dad always told me they were just stupid stories to keep kids inside after dar—” Charli abruptly halts and her eyes go wide, feeling her utopia and elation immediately plunge to the floor, cracking like an egg.

"Wait, my dad—fuck! What time is it?! Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Charli panics as she kicks herself up from Doma's bean bag, her eyes desperately searching around his temple for any clock.

"It's at least almost eleven now. Why, what's wrong?" Doma inquires, getting out of his ridiculous pose and shutting both of his fans, dropping them back into either of his pockets.

"My parents told me to be back by eight! I had to lie to them and tell them I was going somewhere else, goddammit; I lost track of time! I have to go, I'm sorry, man!" Charli frantically sputters tremulously as she hurries toward the door, clasping the antique handle and priding the door open, about to step out, but before she could, Doma grabbed her wrist, compelling her. 

"Now, now, don’t you scurry off so fast. It’s far too late for you to be out there all alone, and I can get you there much faster," he suggests, his other free hand planting on his chest.

“What?—No! No. I'll be fine, I don't want them to see yo—" Before Charli could even finish her sentence, Doma abruptly yanked her into his wintry embrace, lifting her up in both his arms and taking a big leap into the air effortlessly.

"WAI—WAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"

Charli screamed bloody murder as she was unexpectedly lifted up and within seconds appeared up in the air, perceiving all the dark and dense forest trees pass below her feet.

Doma had a casual, pleasant beam across his face while the angelic wind blew through his velvety hair superbly along with his hakama pants. And on the other hand, Charli had a horrified expression riddled on her face, hanging onto him for dear life as fear rushed through her veins, for heights were one of her irrational fears. It was awfully striking how much strength he carried; to be able to leap into the air without building up strength first, with little effort. Something she has never seen before, and figured no human could possibly surpass a strength like that.

Safely, he landed right in front of the pathway that lead down to Charli's village, and he placed her down on her two feet with ease. She leaned back against his chest, her hair in a frizzy mess and her eyes wide, distinctly astonished.
"Holy shit . . . dude—you almost gave me a fucking heart attack! You're strong as hell if you can jump that far, Jesus Christ," she exclaims in awe, looking up at him from an upside down view with him looking down at her with nothing but a amiable smile.

She next leans up from his chest, whirling around to face him. His prismatic eyes once again penetrated through the dark of the forest surrounding them like an enchanted magical being, and this time his eyes didn't seem so threatening to Charli. They appeared to seem wondrous and ethereal. 

"Well, I gotta go now, but I had a lotta fun! I can probably come back tomorrow, I don't know. I'll havta see. Hopefully if I don't get my ass beat tonight," Charli whimsically snickers, her hands back in her hoodie pockets. 

Doma chuckles, his head cocking to the side. "Oh, no, I sure hope that doesn't happen to you. I hope to see you tomorrow as well! Be careful going down that hill, now.” 

"Yeah—you, too," Charli promptly blurts out without thinking as she turns, starting down the pathway; and it wasn't long before she realized what she said didn't necessarily make any sense, and her eyebrows drew close.

""You, too?"" she repeats again under her breath in embarrassment and vexation. 

Doma heard her even though she murmured indistinctly and he snickered, which grabbed her attention, making her whip her head around at him with a playful smirk.
As she loomed back at him, Doma lifted his hand, using his two fingers to gesture a peace sign as he beamed and hastily in return, Charli also gestured a peace sign with her hand. She faintly chuckles to herself before lowering it and continuing her journey down the steep hill with ease and caution, soon disappearing within her village.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! My ass is done. I completely lost track of the time!" Charli mentally curses a she sprinted back home, her lungs and ears burning from the cold. The temperature always dramatically dropped at night, and that was the worst part about heading outside late.

“I can just say . . . I got lost? I don't know, man—Jesus Christ."
Fake scenarios swarmed her head as she darted, making her heart sink even deeper to her stomach.
Once her house descried in the distance, she stopped running, gasping and wheezing for air, thick puffs of vapor emitting from her mouth. In the blurry distance, she noticed someone sitting on the porch, and she felt chills go down her spine as she watched them rise up from one of the chairs that were on the porch and walk down the very few steps.

"Charli!" her mother screams out, her angering tone echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

"Fuck."

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗

★──────★──────★

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩

"Yeah!" Charli yelled out to her mother all while still gasping for air, reluctantly ambling towards the house. 

"Where the fuck have you been? Your dad and I checked all around here for a tempura shop and couldn't find not one. You do realize what time it is, don't you?" her mother shouts, her voice resonating throughout their quiet village.
Her father then swings open the front door, stepping out of the house as he lit up a cigarette, huffing out smoke after a long drag. 

"I—" Charli sputters between her ragged breaths. "I just got lost, it's fine. I went down the wrong neighborhood and was trying to find my way back, it's whatever.” 
Stepping up the porch stairs, she attempts to pass them and head to the door just a few feet from her clutches. But before she could, her mother grasped her shoulder, propelling her back down the steps forcibly.

"No, it's not whatever. Yesterday you went along and ran off again and then came home at two in the morning. Two. You had a gash on your neck with blood and dirt all over your clothes like you fought a goddamn grizzly. And now you come back late again, after I specifically told you to be back by eight. I give you freedom and you always take advantage of it," she blares indignantly, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes wide.

Charli was just about to ignore her antics as she always does and try to escape again, but this time her mother’s words really struck a nerve. A few nerves. Charli scoffed, a sardonic smile shaping her lips.
"Freedom? You give me freedom? Tell me, when's the last time you gave me this so-called fucking freedom?"

"What the hell did I tell you about talking to your mother like that?" Charli's father buts in. "You respect your elders, Charli. Especially your parents. And if your mother says to be back at eight, be back at eight and don't beat around the bush like some immature kid."

"Like some immature kid? I might as well still be one since you both treat me like a goddamn kid. I am twenty-fucking years old, I don't even have to listen to you both, let alone even come back home, but I still do. Why? I don’t fucking know, I’ve been asking myself that a lot lately, actually." 

Her father's lips parted, about to voice his remark, but she interrupts him. 
"No, no, let me finish. Then you tell me to not talk to Mom like that, but she's allowed to talk to me like that? She curses at me all the time, and you know it. Like, how is that fair?"

"It's fair because I'm your mother," she affirms with a potent glare.

"Oh, so because you're my mother, that gives you the right to talk to me disrespectfully? But when I do it back, it's a problem 'cause I'm the daughter. Right. Makes sense." Charli bobs her head sarcastically.

Saskia's brows furrow, evidently irritated by her daughter's arguments and logical points.

"You both are always on your high horses, finding every way in the world to make a problem my fault. Then you both wonder why I have an attitude all the time. I have an attitude because I'm fucking tired, man. I am tired of always feeling belittled and less than both of you. I just want to feel cared about, is that so much to fucking ask?!" Glossy tears prickle at the corners of eyes and cascade down her cheeks, streaming toward her chin before trickling down. 
"You guys expect me to respect you, but you never respect me." Her voice trembled, her words lost in a torrent of tears that showed no sign of letting up. She hated it. Crying in front of her parents made her feel vulnerable and defeated. And most times, she’d always reject defeat, especially when it came to them. 

Her mother and father were at a loss for words, taking in all she said amidst the heavy stillness of the night. Yet, they remained unfazed, not even a hint of surprise crossing their faces. Her father flicked the dwindling cigarette to the ground below, a bitter sigh escaping his lips. 
"Go upstairs, Charli," he somberly remarks. 

Charli's eyes go wide and she raises her head, glaring up at him.
“What?” 

"I don't want to hear anymore. Go upstairs."

Charli's palms slapped against her thighs with a dismissive scoff, her gaze quickly shifting away from his.
"Yeah, of course you don't want to hear anymore, of course. When do you ever want to hear?”

"Listen to your father, Charli. That right there is disrespect; you never notice it because you're young," her mother chimes in.

"Because I'm young?" Charli scoffs. 

"I don't want to hear your mouth again, little girl. Go upstairs," her father demands once more, the formidable air around him and her mother abhorrent and heavy. 
Charli refused to listen. Her hands balled to fists as fought to keep her composure. She loathed whenever he'd called her "little girl." It felt like a slap in the face, a cruel mockery that made her want to punch him. 

She let out a frustrated sigh, using her sleeve to wipe her face once more. She carded one side of her hair behind her ear, rubbing her eyes with her fists. Her thoughts afflicted her mind like dozens of tireless wasps, until they were suddenly torn to shreds like thin paper as soon as Charli's father unexpectedly seized a lock of her hair, forcing her up the stairs.
"If you wanna sit here all night acting like a snooty asshole, how about I bring you to your room for you?!" he fervently yells while tugging her up the stairs forcefully. Charli quickly fought back, screaming and desperately punching his vigorous hand and arm. “Fucking let go of me!” she belted, jerking herself back.

His grip was far too sturdy for her punches; although she was too unprepared and inattentive to properly fight back with the strength she had. Before he was able to pry her up the last step, she shoved him with all the energy she had, causing him to stumble back and tear out a few strands of her hair on the way down.

She herself almost plummeted down along with him, but she stomped her foot in front of her, catching herself just in time from face-planting on the wooden porch. Almost plunging backwards off the stairs, she hastily steps down, throwing both her hands on the portion of her hair that was torn out. 

Saskia shrieked as she threw herself to the ground next to her father, sitting him up and making sure he was unharmed, and Charli watched with her woeful eyes drowning in tears, keeping her hands held to her head, gradually drawing away from the house backwards.
Her eyebrows draw close as her fists clench.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you guys?! You fucking chickenshits! Fuck both of you!"
She shoots up both of her middle fingers at them before whirling around and bolting down the village neighborhood, her hair swishing behind her in the brisk, harsh wind

"Charli!" her father screams out as he sat himself up, echoing within the quiet village. Not wasting a mere second, he rose up and rushed down the steps pursuing after her. 
She didn’t even need to look back. She knew he was hauling after her. Her heart sunk all the way to her ankles and she winced her eyes shut tight, dashing faster and faster. 

"You're never going to get anywhere in the world with that pussy attitude, Charli! You need to grow up, grow the fuck up!" he continued to shout after halting in his tracks. He didn’t see a point in continuing to run after her so late in the night during such cruel temperatures like a cat and a mouse. 

 Whirling her head back, she felt a sense of deep relief to perceive him far down the neighborhood as small as a sesame seed. She loathed this predicament; running away yet again. But she’d much rather choose staying out late at night in the cold instead of fighting with the two of them again. There’s no point since her words and feelings would get invalidated and flushed down the toilet. Just like they always have been for years. Pivoting her head back forward, she continued to descend down the village.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

She ran and ran without stopping; she couldn't feel anything, physically and mentally; her body all the way to the bone was numb. She hurled through the village for a little over ten minutes, at this point not even running anymore. She was jogging at a slow pace now, feeling another pinching side stitch above her hip and didn’t bother to stop and take a breather.

Her throat and eyes were exceedingly dry to the point where it would hurt to even try to swallow. The area where her father had ripped out her hair burned, her thighs itched and stung. She didn't even need or want to look, she already figured her legs were gonna be blood-red and irritated. Her cheeks and eyes were stained with parched tears; they stopped cascading down a little bit ago, as if she cried away all the tears she had left.

Her heart and mind was entirely empty as she leered down at her grey sweatpants before she turned toward her right without thinking, plopping herself down against a building that appeared to be a closed shop. She desperately attempted to control her breathing as her chest heaved, rising and falling forcibly, huge puffs of vapor gushing in front of her each time. Her mouth was as dry as a desert, and her ears felt as if they could just fall right off, blood-red and freezing. 
Her legs rose up to her chest, and she threw her arms around them, her face burying into her knees with her rapid breathing continuing repeatedly.

I really figured things would've gotten better as I got older, but . . . I got my hopes up too high. I feel like I'm victimizing myself, but both of them are always scumbags. There's people probably going through way worst, and I feel like I'm just—exaggerating all this. I don't know anymore, man; I don't know who I am. I don't know what I want. I don't know if I want to run away and never look back, or just die.

The ambience around this part of the village was overly quiet with not one sound to be heard from anything that could be thought of. She had no idea where she was at, even though the poor village was rather small, she had never been to the other side of it, which is where she ended up. Within just a few minutes, her breathing relaxed as she progressively continued attempting to control it, drawing in heavy breaths from her nose and out from her mouth. She poked her head up from her knees, her eyes reddened as they began to dwell with glistened tears once more.

She glared across from where she was sat, seeing nothing but rows of different shops that all had white signs hanging from the door's, "closed" written on them. In her direction, she could faintly see her reflection on the shop's glass door across from her. Dejected from seeing her own reflection, her eyes squinted as she threw her head back down, her arm's clasp around her legs tightening.

She shut her eyes, sharply sighing as she seemingly took advantage of the feeling of having no thoughts bombarding her head. It never failed for her mind to overthink everyday and night, and of course, she sometimes never liked the feeling of being numbed out, but it was the best time to try to get some sleep since the highway in her head was cleared up. It didn't take her long after she shut her eyes to doze off, yet she was still rather attentive with her hearing.
She lies there letting herself fall asleep, not caring about the bickering and arguing she’ll have to deal with later on. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

The darkness swarming around Charli’s vision gradually faded as her eyes opened. Her eyelashes were crusted from her tears drying up as she slept making her sight blurred and hazy. She raises a hand, rubbing them clean with her sleeve, retaining a better view around her. The sky up above was painted a lighter hue and towards the far horizon was the sun’s seraphic rays creeping up steadily, progressively granting the tenebrous village natural warm light.

“Fuck, I’ve been out for hours,” she murmurs. “I don’t care, anyway. I’m already in trouble.” 

She raises one knee to her chest, planting her palm onto it as she lifts herself from the ground, dusting off the back of her sweatpants afterwards. And next, she reluctantly begins her journey down the neighborhoods back to her home. Her sandals scraped against the ground as she ambled, and in her peripheral vision, she could perceive groups of people in alleyways, looking to be all men.

Now is when fear struck her right in the chest like a bullet.  She raises her arms, pulling her hood over her head and grasps her long hair, stuffing it into her hood so not one strand of it was visible. 

She kept her vision down as she continued ambling, the fetid scent of cigarette and weed running along her senses, making the back of her throat itch. She's never seen people out at such a time, and then again, she was at the opposite side of her village, a part she has never been to before, so it was bound to be a little different. 

In the vast distance, she was able to perceive a clear view of the mountain where Doma's temple is located at. She sighed, a slight smile etching into her lips at the thought of her last encounter with him, remembering how much fun she had, how mystic and divine it was. Half of her created a concept that probably wasn't the best decision, which was returning to his place instead of going home, but she wanted the scratch out that option mainly because she had just met him, and didn't want to be much of a nuisance, and adding onto that, he was a demon.
But him being a demon only made Charli’s interest in him double the amount. 

Ten minutes of venturing would finally lead Charli to her destination back to her forbidden home. Her house was approaching close to distance, and the smile she wore the whole way immediately plummeted, making her look miserable. From the back, she tugged down her hood, seizing her frizzy hair in her palm and letting it down from its tucked-in position it had underneath the hoodie.

"So stupid," she complained under her breath as she drew closer and closer, eventually clasping onto the porch railing.
"They better be asleep, or I swear."

She unwillingly drags herself up the steps, peering up at the door, suddenly coming to a halt upon noticing it halfway open. It was something she found to be bizarre since both her mother and father never leave the door open like so due to the crime rate in their village, especially at night. The most they would do was leave it unlocked whenever she would run off after a fight, so this was unordinary to her.

"Did they go out to look for me and leave the door open on accident?" Charli thought to herself. She assumed they did, and even so she planted her palm against the door, swinging it open, taking her first step into the house, but she refrained from taking a second step.

Her entire body froze, and it nearly seemed like time froze itself as well. Her eyes looked more terrified than ever, even more terrified than her mysterious encounter the other day. The display presented across her house left her in utter shambles, every single hair on her body standing. A bloody massacre spread through out the living room of her home, the last thing she was expecting to come home to.

A demon appeared to be holding Charli's father bridal style, hungrily tearing at his stomach like a starving bear after hibernation. His head hung upside down, his lifeless eyes blankly glaring at Charli, disappointment woven within them. Charli's view soon trailed to the left at the wall where her mother was hung. Massive spikes, at least four feet long were jabbed into both of her arms and legs, holding her up against the wall with her head dangling, her black hair flailed over her face.

And that wasn't even the worst part about this scenery. Her stomach was slit open from side to side, her intestines drooping out of the slit, blood trickling into the floor from her arms, legs and naval.

Charli's entire body fell numb, her eyes gaped open and riddled with immense fright as she gradually backed away, attempting to not make a noise, but she was unsuccessful. The demon lifted its head from her father's stomach and snapped over at her, its face dripping in her father's blood.

At that very moment, Charli really did believe she was about to die, right there and then as the demon's golden profound eyes met with hers. It let her father down onto the floor before it rose to its feet. Instead of hair being on its head, spikes were, and spikes trailed down its arms and legs, the same spikes that held Saskia against the wall. Rugged, tore up clothing dressed its body, skittered and stained with both fresh and dry blood. 

"You just stay right there," the demon spoke its gruff, daunting voice.

Charli was petrified, yet not a tear strolled down her cheek, or a scream let out from the inner depths of her mouth. She remained frozen, her afeard eyes glued to the demon's as it drew closer to her.

"That's it. First human I have ever came across that actually listened to me. Your blood must be fascinating!" the demon ended its last words with enthusiasm and reverence before its tongue licked around its lips and it lunged towards Charli startlingly, without giving her a chance to even react.

And it was like she couldn’t even react either. Despite it hurling toward her, its monstrous hands and jaws open and aiming right for her, not a flinch, jolt or even a scream was emitted from her. She remained idle, far too shocked to even simply throw her hands up in front of her face to shield it. Not one thought lingered about her head, but she was going to accept this death because there was no way she couldn’t. 

Yet she wished she could die in her sleep when her time was near. It’s painless. And she wouldn’t have to witness something beyond frightening and have to feel herself progressively lose consciousness while bleeding out to death. With dagger-like teeth tearing and ripping through her flesh. But unfortunately that’s what she’ll have to experience within her last few moments of life. There wasn’t anyway to escape it. 

Nonetheless, there was still hope. 

"Move!"

 A stern, yet silvery voice yelled from behind Charli, and she was promptly shoved out of the way to the right side, plunging to the floor where she’ll get thrown back into reality. She blinks three times before wincing and grabbing the shoulder she abruptly landed on, feeling its ache from the rough plummet. And her eyes ultimately land on the mysterious person. 

Frankly, she couldn't identify who this person was at all. But they appeared short, almost resembling a child. They wore loose clothes with long jet black hair that faded into a mint green at the tips.

"Mist Breathing, Third Form, Scattering Mist Splash," they declare with effortless delicacy in their voice as they unsheathed a sword, swiftly swinging it in a circular motion, mincing the demon's head clean off as it lunged through the air. Its head flung off its shoulders, landing near the front door beside Charli, leaving a trail of blood behind it. Its body thudded to the ground and specks of blood sprinkled onto Charli’s cheek from the decapitation of the demon, making her grimace in discomfort and disgust. 

Completely disoriented, she rose up, hauling her way down the porch, beginning to sprint down the village, tears prickling at her eyes. She whipped her head back, seeing the mysterious person swipe their sword once, prompting the blood that was on it to fling onto the ground, and they slide the sword back into its sheathe firmly with a click. They then stepped down from the porch, casually sauntering away quietly like absolutely nothing happened.
She swiveled back straight ahead, continuing to descend. Thousands of thoughts swarmed her head now as she kept dashing, feeling nausea creep up into her stomach from everything she just witnessed all in a matter of seconds.

"They're gone! They're gone . . . just like that?! What the fuck am I supposed to do?! I can't live in this fucking world on my own. I can't do this. I have to go to Doma's place, I have nobody else. I don't have family or friends, I have jack shit. I need to go, I need to . . . !" the thoughts swarmed Charli's head like a thousand pestering gnats.

The horrific scenes continued to replay in her head like a broken tape. Her father's disappointed eyes is what pained her the most. She felt like this happened because of her; that maybe if she wouldn't have left, they would have still been alive. Or if she stayed, she would have been dead as well.

She made her way to the pathway up the hill, and she carelessly rushed up the entire length, tripping over almost every single rock and root that stuck from the ground, short sobs exiting her mouth as she heavily breathed. She wasn't properly thinking straight, or even thinking at all. She just continued to run. Run and run. Mazed out.

And once she hurried up the pathway, she yet again ran, not having a single care in the world for a breather. She already kind of memorized where to go, so she just continued darting without even thinking twice. The harsh wind blew through the trees, and the dead leaves crunched beneath her sandals. Her heart thumped so rough and fast, she could hear it clearly as if someone was holding it right to her ears.

She couldn't care less about the demons or dangerous animals that could be lurking around. All she cared about right now was getting to Doma's place, and in which she descried lights up ahead, and her gloom-filled heart sparked with a hint of joy knowing that she made it even without really trying. Ultimately after drawing closer to his temple, she throws herself against the door, the side of her face squished against it, her trembling hand faintly knocking. She was freezing, scared half to death, disoriented, and on the verge of throwing up. 

All she wanted was for Doma to open the door. She lifted her hand, about to knock again, but before she could, the door swung open and since she was leaned against it, her body fell upon its opening. Just before her body could meet the ground, Doma caught her by her arms, hoisting her up to her feet.
Trembling from dread, anxiety, and the wintry weather, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze, his multicolored eyes gazing right back with mere puzzlement. She stood glaring at him for seconds more before her breath hitched and she rammed into him, embracing him in a tight hug, bawling it all out into his chest uncontrollably. 

Completely and utterly fazed, Doma remained there, idle with his eyes widened big, not exactly knowing how to react, or even what to say. He only manages to a place gentle yet cold hand on her back.
"Charli?" his tranquil voice called.

"They're gone . . . they’re gone!" she cries, continuously sobbing and hiccuping nonstop, her embrace only tightening around his torso.

"Who's gone, Charli?" he asks, leaning his head further down to hers.

"My—myhhyhnmm . . ." Charli mumbled inaudibly, her voice sounding muffled and smothered as she hitched and hiccuped numerous times at once. 

Doma leaned his head back up, cocking it to the side trying to comprehend her mumbling, however he couldn't. He peers up at the front door that was wide open, and he reaches his long arm out, pushing it shut. With his hand, he grabs Charli's, walking her to his bean bag beneath his voguish canopy. Upon arriving to it, he turns around lies down on it, pulling Charli forward onto him, lying her down against his chest.

He didn't exactly know how to genuinely comfort someone, so he was quite oblivious, but all he managed to do was pat her back while his other held her a few inches further down.

"There, there, it's all right, Charli. Just relax yourself," he spoke his reverent, bewitching voice.

His chest vibrated as he spoke, and his enchanting, reposeful voice progressively began to subdue her tears and hysteria. She gripped his turtleneck’s velvety fabric into her palms, sniffling as she kept her eyes shut.

"There you go, good job!" he praises. "Just keep breathing. You've got it."

He remained patting her back with delicacy, and she sniffled, feeling her cheeks warm up in comfort, a smile forming at the ends of her lips. His tender voice was easily the most satisfying thing she has ever heard in her entire life. It was so angelic and delicate, he could sing her to sleep.

She kept her eyes closed, enjoying his touch, despite it being wintry cold, and enjoying his seraphic, melodic voice. In the back of her head she really didn't want to fall asleep in a predicament like this, but she was too physically and mentally exhausted to even attempt to get up, and not to mention she was also way too comfortable. She listened to the voice deep in her thoughts that continued to order her to stay right where she was, and that's exactly what she did.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

The early afternoon arrived as soon as sunrise did, and Charli's vision steadily came together as she opened her eyes, immediately perceiving a window that was closed by the red lush curtains, only a tiny ray of sunlight peeking through a small opening between them. She stretched her arms and legs, letting out a groan before getting up on her hands and knees, her nose instantly touching Doma's nose. Her eyes widen, and blood rushes through her cheeks painting them a visible red, certainly not expecting to wake up to Doma being so close. So, so close. And personal.

"Hi . . ."

"Hi!"

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞

Quickly, Charli realizes the position her and Doma were in, and she plants one palm down onto his chest, pushing herself up and off of him and the bean bag, drawing a few steps away from it.

"Oh, God, we said that at the same time," she falters, feeling a rush of awkwardness in the air.

"We did! HAHA! Good morning, Charli! How are you feeling?" Doma inquires, sitting himself up on the bean bag, criss-crossing his legs.

"—How am I feeling?" she questions, puzzled on the question. She remained confused until she finally woke up and smelled the coffee, remembering what had happened last night, and why she was at his temple in the first place. Her eyes narrowed, her shoulders lowering as her posture relaxes, and she turns around, sitting herself against the bean bag, placing both her palms onto her forehead.

Doma's eyes go wide and he promptly uncrosses his legs, sliding down from his bean bag, sitting next to her.
"Oh, no, hey! What's the matter? Was it something I said?"

Amused, she scoffs and shakes her head, lowering her hands from her forehead, letting them rest on the hardwood floor of the temple.
"No, no, it's not you. I just—when I came home yesterday, I got into a stupid argument with both my parents—again. And some shit happened, so I just ran away again and stood at the opposite side of the village for a bit. When I came back a few hours later, I saw—both of them dead," Charli elucidates, her voice nonchalant as her eyes remain centered at the floor.

Doma certainly wasn't anticipating any of the words that came out of her mouth. That, and he didn't exactly know what to even say. His lips parted to say the first thing that came to his mind, but he stopped himself as soon as Charli continued.

"They were killed by your kind," she says.

"Oh," Doma utters, kind of figuring that one out already. "I'm sincerely sorry for that, Charli. For as long as you live, they will always be alive in your heart! Always remember that when you’re feeling sa—” 

"It's okay," she cuts him off, "I don't think I really care too much, I'm just—feeling a bit dazed over it all still. Like, a numb feeling."

"Eh—?" Doma's jaw nearly drops from her response and he almost laughs.
"You don't care?!" he questions her words with a stifled chuckle

"Not really, no," Charli responds, a faint smile growing at her lips from his reaction. 
"For a while my parents never really gave a shit about me. Every time I'd try to talk to them about the way I felt, it'd result in some dumbass screaming match, or they would ignore me. They were narcissistic as hell, so you can imagine how bad they were. They're literally the reason why I've been in a constant struggle with depression for so many years, I hated them so much. So—I don't know if I exactly feel anything, you know."

She always made fake scenarios of something bad happening to her parents, and how good she would probably feel, but the last thing she was expecting was it actually happening, and now she really didn't know what to feel.

"Screaming match . . . that sounds funny,” he heartily chuckles. “Sorry, sorry. Well, then, that certainly escalated. I’m glad they died! Karma came right back to them, right?” 

"Yeah, maybe it did.” The small smile on Charli's jaded face remained for a few moments more before it disappeared like it never was even there to begin with.
"The thing that is scaring me the most is now I have nobody. And no place to stay—I mean, I do, but I don't think I'd feel content to live in a house that both my parents died in, and I legitimately witnessed their dead bodies. I'm also just—really scared to live on my own. I know I'm an adult, but the thought is just really pressuring."

"Charli, you have meeeeeee! And you can stay here with me, too! I'd be more than happy having a roommate!" Doma exclaims with glee, placing both his palms down beside him as he leans in close to her. Charli swiveled her head to face his, and she promptly leaned back, scooting a good few inches away from him. The faint smile she wore mere moments ago returned to her lips before she casted her gaze down. 

"But you're a demon. It just feels wrong. I mean, I'll admit, I guess it does sound a lot better than living alone, but, I don't know," she says before burying her face into both her hands.
"You'd have to stop killing and eating people if I live with you," she continues, her voice muffled.

"Huh?!" Doma gasps in dejection, "but, Charli! A demon must consume blood in order to survive! It's the main source of energy!"

"All right, then, I won't live with you," Charli snaps, yet she was only half-joking.

"Well, what if I were to do so privately? It's not like you'll know anyways, right? I won't leave any evidence behind, not even the tiniest speck of blood!" He raises his hand up, gesturing his index finger and thumb close together, resembling a "tiny speck.”

Charli uncovered her face, wiping her eyes with her clenched fist before she peers at Doma, her whimsical smile returning.
"I'll take that, then. Just don't go dragging some person in here. I have, like, a really bad fear of blood. It just makes me nauseous and disturbed.”

Charli was surprised on how well she was taking this situation. Not that it was a particularly bad circumstance, but over the fact that she was casually speaking to a man-eating creature to put it in blunt words. Along with the fact that she has an irrational fear of blood, yet knowing that he has killed and eaten numerous lives didn't really get into her head as much as it would for someone else, mostly because Charli can't really take anything seriously.

That, and her heart was still numbed from these past few days. It all just rammed at her like a five ton wrecking ball, from an irksome, painful twenty years, to dead bodies and fantasy. And even though Doma was fundamentally a murderer, Charli still found herself already clung to him because she's never happened upon someone so nice.

"I would never do that!" Doma's expression forms into an insulted pout, yet his demeanor appeared satirical and playful.

"Uh-huh," Charli jeers teasingly before her palms plant to the floor as she lifts herself up, her hands soon making their way into her hoodie's pockets. Soon, she finds herself wandering to the right of the temple down the hall.
"I've never seen this part of your temple," she  remarks as she ventures further in.

The same wallpaper that decorated the entrance of the temple stretched along down the hallway with candle lit sconce lights along the walls, and coming along from the right side was a white staircase railing positioned towards the back of the temple, where she’d have to walk all the way down and make a turn to go up the stairs. It caught her attention, but what really grabbed all of it was a doorway that was coming up.

Ultimately after reaching it, her hand grazes along the white frame before she halts at the foot of the door, leaning her shoulder against the frame as she peered into what appeared to be the bathroom. A spacious standup glass shower dressed with white marble tiles is what she first glanced at upon standing at the doorstep, a small window that had satinised glass was along the wall where the shower was; inside the shower to put it more simply, but since the window's glass was blurry, it was nearly impossible for anyone to peek in from outside, although something like that happening was unlikely since the temple's in the middle of the woods.

Her eyes went from the shower to the white marble vanity sink and toilet that were beside each other. She's never seen decor as stylish as this, it almost seemed too luxurious to even be used.

"This is so beautiful," she murmurs to herself under her breath. Her eyes then suddenly go wide. "Wait . . . do demons shit and piss?"

"What?!" Doma screams from down the temple's hallway, making Charli jolt, startled. She briskly pokes her head out the bathroom, peering down the hallway.

"Why are you yelling?" she chuckles, watching his tall figure amble down the hall, the wooden floor creaking from time to time beneath his every step.

"Demons piss and shit?" she asks again when Doma ultimately stops in front of her.

"Oh, I heard you the first time. I just needed to hear again because I wasn't expecting a question like that!" he chuckles out loud.

"What are you laughing at? It's a genuine question, I have no idea how demons are. I wanna know if you have this nice ass bathroom just to have it, or if you actually use it," she retorts whimsically, leaning up from the door frame and folding her arms.

"HAHA! You're a funny one! Of course demons do that. Apart from their looks and abilities, their digestive systems aren't very much different from a humans!" Doma answers with a jovial tone, his multihued eyes glittering with buoyancy.

"See, I didn't know that, had no idea. I thought their food—or flesh, I mean would just decompose and deteriorate in their stomachs," Charli says, her jesting demeanor remaining as she turns and meanders further down the hallway to the second door that was closed. She unfolds her arms and reaches toward the golden antique doorknob of the room, but before her hand could even touch the knob, Doma speedily grabs her hand in his own, his nails scratching her wrist in the process.

"Don't open that!" he sputters out. 

"Ow! Dammit, watch it, dude. Your nails are sharp." She snatches her hand away, viewing the little scratch along her wrist, a small speck of blood seeping out of it.

"Whoops! I'm so sorry, Charli! I didn't mean to hurt you, are you all right?" Doma gasps in dejection over his mistake, covering his mouth with both his hands.

"It's fine, it's fine, just a small scratch," she reassures before raising her arm closer to her face, leaning her head down and licking the blood that seeped out of the tiny scratch.
As Charli licked her own blood, Doma’s despondent expression altered gradually. He lowered his hands from his mouth slowly with his face entirely blanking out in utter confusion. His eyebrows draw close.

"Charli, you are . . . so weird," he blurts nonchalantly. 

”What? Me?! You literally eat people! Now let me see those nails of yours," she says, grabbing his frigid hand and holding it, analyzing his long nails that were a deep purplish blue hue. 

"Why don't you cut them? And did you paint them, or did they turn that way when you became a demon?" She inspects each one of his nails and slender fingers. 

"They'll just grow back again really fast if I were to. Any part of my body regenerates if severed, and heals if punctured. And yup, they turned that color when I became a demon!" he answers.

"Wait—wait, seriously?" Charli shakes her head a bit, comprehending his remark.
"So if your arm were to be chopped off or something, it'd grow right back? Like, like, when a lizard's tail falls off?"

"Yeah! That's a good example to use! It'll grow back within seconds! It's what makes us immortal!" 

"Oh, God, what the hell. That's so disturbing to think about, but also cool! What if your heart was ripped out?" she throws another question at him.

"It'd just regenerate a whole new one!" he answers once more, taking his hand back and folding his arms across his chest with a smug on his pale face.

"Eeeeww, that's so—cool," Charli exclaims, her hand that was just holding his being placed on her cheek, her eyes trailing off of Doma's as she pondered endlessly about demons' unique abilities. Doma lets out a light hearted chuckle with his eyes closed from Charli's reaction, his sharp fangs beaming brightly. She glances up at him with a genial smile over his laugh, and her eyes stay locked onto him, even after he stops chuckling and reopens his eyes, peering at her.
"What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, his amused demeanor returning.

"Ohh, nothing!” She shrugs, gesturing out her hands and chuckling herself. “Just not used to seeing demons! Although, I am still curious about what's behind this door. Why won't you let me see?" She crosses her arms.

"Because it's my room," Doma answers with a mischievous smirk.

"And what could be so bad about your room? What, do you have—" Charli stops herself, realizing she doesn't even want to finish her sentence. She was planning on saying something rather vulgar and obscene. “Actually, never mind that. I don't care what's in there, as long as there isn't dead corpses hanging from chains on the ceiling, I still would like to see."

Doma huffs out a surprised cackle, throwing his head back. "No, no! For goodness sake, I'm not that terrible! You may see it, but I would like to clean it up first, so if you'll excuse me," he says as he shuffles in front of her, opening the door to his bedroom and sneaking in quick before closing it shut hastily so she wouldn't get a chance to peek in.
Charli waited outside patiently, respecting his privacy even though she was really itching to see inside. She figured it had to be a dead body or some sort in there. Maybe glass jars with brains in them—no, that's too irrational—or is it?

"You may enter, Charli!" Doma's muffled voice calls out from inside the closed room.

Not even seconds after hearing him, Charli busts through the door, meeting Doma who was standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, a big smile visible on his face. But something about his face was off, there was a smudge of blood down his chin on the left side, and with his tongue, he rapidly licks it clean. 
Charli sighs, shaking her head as she lets go of the doorknob. "Let me guess, you had a human hostage in here or something?"

"Oh, no, no, of course not! My buddy Gyokko gave me a gorgeous pot some time ago, and I planted a woman's severed head in it! In fact, the majority of the vases and pots I have on display are gifts from him!" he smiles big, cupping his cheeks ecstatically. 

"Ah—" Charli's eyes widen as she stares blankly at him, forcing an agonized smile.
"That's great,” she sarcastically gestures a thumbs up. 

Doma seemed to be very open and amiable, but he was still a demon, so he was bound to be messed up in the head just a little bit. A lot. Charli was somewhat expecting that, and there was nothing she could really do about it since he's been doing vile things for almost two centuries. Nevertheless, even if it'll take long for him to snap out of those bad habits, Charli was up for helping him try. Of course she wasn't one to judge, considering she's been judged all her life, but some bad habits are just worth getting rid of.

Charli's eyes glance about his room, another smile forming at her lips as she viewed it as very similar to the entrance of his temple. It was a vastly spacious bedroom with a queen size bed centered in the middle against the right wall, mahogany red and black silk bedsheets with a red and black headboard.

"Holy shit," she utters in awe over the massive bed. She hurries towards it, her hand passing along the silky red thin blanket.

"This is the biggest bed I have ever seen, and it's so fancy, too, like what the hell. That cult sure did make you rich, huh? Like—ohhh ice figures!" she blurts out, scurrying towards the left side where ice figures were methodically placed on shelves along the wall. Some were princesses wearing lush dresses, some were lotus flowers, another one was a woman carrying a baby in both her arms.

"Did you make these ice figures?" Charli inquires, intrigued as her enlightened eyes glanced up and down the decorated shelves. 

"I did! I—"

Doma refrains from continuing when his words get caught at the tip of his tongue unexpectedly. He casts his head down, beginning to grit his teeth together as if he were in pain. 

For a little while longer, Charli remained inspecting the pristine ice figures that stood before her, awaiting for his next words, but she soon began to wonder why they never came. She whips her head around, her curtain bangs swaying. 

"You what?" she pries puzzled, her eyes now perceiving his demeanor. The front of his hair draped over his face, so Charli couldn't see it and his body began to tremble, prompting a cold pit to arise within the base of her stomach.

"Um, Doma?" she falters, frightened. 
"What's the matter?"

He didn't respond, only staying idle in the same spot with his trembling worsening, and to add to the plate, blood began to seep down from between his teeth, trickling onto the wooden floor leaving sizable spots of his vibrant red blood. 

"What the fuck?! Doma! What's wrong? You're bleeding!" 

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

★──────★──────★

𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮

“You're—honestly freaking me the hell out, what's wrong? Does your head hurt or something?" Charli continuously asks, but she assumes his head was possibly aching because he placed his right hand against his temple as if he had a painful headache.
Now she began to create fake scenarios because seeing a demon do something like this was quite genuinely frightening.

"Is he hungry? Is he gonna turn on me? Go buck wild and murk me or some shit? Fuck, what do I do?" Charli's thoughts raced. Her eyes scanned around his room for any other possible exists besides the bedroom door, but she found none. The room surprisingly had no windows, perhaps to not let any sunlight in; it was being lit by sconce lights that were on either side of his bed's headboard. 

Charli's eyes trailed back to Doma, who was still trembling, though after mere moments, the trembling began to subdue until it came to a complete stop, and Charli's fear remained. She backed up more, her back just inches away from the shelves behind her, and she lifts her hands, placing them on the edge of the lowest shelf that was met right above her hind. 

"Doma?" she calls his name again, her voice brittle.

"Uh-huh?" he responds back almost instantly. From his hunched over position, he straightened himself out, his face now visible as he licks clean the blood that was streamed down his chin. He peered at Charli with the usual smile he carried as if nothing happened.

"Uh—" Charli murmurs, "what the hell was that all about? Are you all right?" she asks, retaining her safe distance with her hands still grasping the shelf behind her. 

"Yeah, I'm okay! My sincerest apologies if I frightened you," he states while beginning to tread toward her. 

"But—" she stammers, removing her hands from the shelf and stepping to the side away from him.
"You were shaking like you were in pain or something, and your mouth began to bleed, look!" She swivels her head, pointing at the spot where his blood had trickled. Oddly enough, the blood was gone, as if it were never there to begin with. 
"What?" Charli's eyes widen as they begin scanning the floor around where he was just standing. 
"Where'd it go? Am I fucking schizophrenic?” 

"No, no! It happens a lot, don't worry!" He reassuringly waves a hand with an elated beam, halting in front of the shelves beside her.
"Now, back to your previous, previous question, yes I did make these ice sculptures! But I didn't hand make them, I made them with my Blood Demon Art!"

The fear that Charli had from the strange event lingered around, but she was also too fascinated and infatuated with his abilities to focus too much on it that she herself began to act like nothing happened.

"Seriously? That's wild! So you don't have different types of powers, they're just ice ones?" she asks, her eyes lightened with wonder and she gazed upon the figures once more.
“‘Cause I’ve read books with characters that had, like, two different powers. Like fire and, I don’t know—invisibility or something.” 

"Uh-huh, I understand. But no, I’ve only got ice. It's called Cryokinesis, the ability to manipulate ice and frost!" he announces pridefully with a smug across his face, folding his arms. 

"Cryokinesis, huh? That's a sick name. So in other words, you're like a magical ice princess?" Charli jests with a smirk curving at her lips. 

"Princess?" Doma's face of delight altered to a face of utter confusion, perking up one eyebrow with his head tilted to the side. "Don't you mean prince?!"

"I'm starving, do you have any food here? Like, human food?" She blithely ignores his inquiry, emphasizing the word "human" because she didn't want him to give her a deluxe golden platter with brains and chopped off fingers on it. But maybe that's too irrational as well. 

"No, unfortunately. All I have is tea! Remember the tea I offered you the other day when we first met? Would you like that?" he asks, the beam on his face returning as he gestures out his hand.

"Blegh," Charli rejects his offer with a face of disgust. "I'm not the biggest fan of tea, especially sencha. It makes me nauseous; I have no idea how people can drink it all the time. It’s so nasty," she remarks as she maunders her way out of Doma's bedroom, greeting the white staircase railing. 
"Oh, shit, I almost forgot to check upstairs!" Her eyes lighten up as she trots to the far left, her hand grabbing the staircases' newel post, peering up. 

"Oh, right! Upstairs is just another bedroom and bathroom!" Doma calls out as he makes his way out of his room, now idle right at the doorframe.

"You know, I've been thinking, is this even actually a temple? Aren't temples supposed to be, like, huge ass buildings? Like, castles?" Charli ponders as her eyes go from the staircase to Doma at the doorframe.

"Oh, dear, I was hoping you wouldn't ask that!" Doma chuckles as he raises his hand, knocking his head delicately a few times.
"Though, you are right! This actually isn't a real temple, it's only a house. My real temple is like what you just described! It's huge!"

"Wait, you said "is”.”  Charli’s eyes squint with her hand letting go of the staircase post. She hurries toward Doma, stopping in front of him.
"So does that mean it still exists?" she quizzically pries, crossing her arms.

Doma's multihued eyes go wide in surprise. He promptly bursts into laughter and waves a hand.
"Oh, man, I'm really gonna have to watch what I say around you!"

"Mm-hmm," Charli hums, her tone playfully vexed. "I'm a good listener surprisingly, but yeah, no, seriously—what happened with your cult?"

"Well, I guess I do owe you an explanation, but I'll only give you little details! Something happened, and that certain something lead the cult to disperse, and I had to relocate. It happened well over five years ago, and I've been here ever since! But also yes, my temple does still exist, it just has been abandoned!" Doma explains with mirth in his tender pitch.

"Abandoned?" Charli's eyes widened as her face alters to an expression of awe. "Huge temple? Oh, my God? Let's go explore it!" She uncrosses her arms and clenches her fists, leaning in close to Doma, thrilled with exhilaration.

"Explore it?!" Doma repeats her words in aghast. "What for? That’d be dangerous!"

“Dangerous? Are you shitting me? You literally have superpowers, you're a demon! Exploring abandoned places sounds so fun! I've never explored any before, but I really wanted to with the friends I had years ago since there's a bunch of abandoned houses at my village.” 

"Friends you had? Are they not your friends anymore, Charli?" Doma asks, his head perking to the side.

"What?" She ponders, stumped for mere moments. "Oh—yeah, no, they're not my friends anymore. Sorry, for a second I forgot what I even said." Casting her head down, she breaks eye contact with him.

"Hahaaa, see, I'm a good listener, too!" he exclaims, tapping his ears with a closed-eyed sunny beam. 

"Yeah," Charli murmurs followed with a faint smile as she kept her head lowered. It frankly caught her off guard since she isn't accustomed to being listened to. Her parents and friends never really cared about anything she said, so speaking with someone who did was something she needed to get used to.

"So, what happened with those friends, Charli?" Doma curiously pokes.

"I can tell you on the way. I was thinking maybe you could come with me to my house so I can get some food that's there? I don't wanna go alone, I'm honestly kinda scared to see my parents dead again," she retorts, the excitement she's had in her voice ever since she woke up vanishing.

"The demon who was responsible for it must have already eaten them, no?" he questions, his view now towards the high ceiling of his house, his finger placed at his chin.

"Nope.” She shakes her head. "There was this one guy—or girl, I don't know, who had a sword. They saved me from it, literally chopped its head clean off. I've heard stories about them, too, they're called—"

"Demon Slayers, yeah," Doma cuts her short. "They are constantly in battle between demons."

"Ah, so that's the people you killed the other day. When I passed them, I noticed swords on the ground, and they were all wearing the same uniform," she says bitterly, the images of their dead bodies flashing through her mind making her skin crawl. 

"Don't worry, Charli! I won't ever do something like that again in front of you. Especially now that I know you’ve got a queasy tummy. I’ll make sure to be cautious at all times, you can trust me.” 

"I’ll trust you even more if you pinky promise.” She holds out her pinky to him with a witty grin. 

Doma appears befuddled. His eyes glared down at her pinky unsure of what exactly to do, and he didn’t even want to bother asking. So the only thing he comes up with is tapping the tip of her pinky with his index finger gingerly, leaving her utterly perplexed.

Her eyebrows draw close and she peers down at her pinky, blinking. Three times.

”What the fuck was that?” 

”I’m sorry!!” he whines out, planting his hands on the sides of his head. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know what a pinky promise is! I didn’t know what to doooo!”

”What?! You don’t know what a pinky promise is?! Oh, Christ. I forgot you’re, like, a thousand years old. It’s basically where two people interlock their pinkies when they make a promise. It’s considered very sacred and cannot be broken. If it’s broken, the one who broke it will perish for eternity . . .” she dramatically explains, the pitch of her voice suspenseful and enthralling.

"Ooooh, how scary!” he chuckles, wiggling his fingers. “I may be “a thousand,” but I actually have heard of a pinky promise before! I remember hearing a song about it years ago. It’s kind of foggy, but still there. Nevertheless!" He lowers one hand, drawing out his pinky and interlocking it with Charli's gingerly, being cautious not to scratch her again with his nails.
"I pinky promise.” 

Their pinkies remained interlocked for a few moments, the warming smile they were sharing prolonging, even after their pinkies ultimately parted from each other.

"Let's go get some food now. You don't mind coming with me, right?" Charli then inquires as she makes her way down the hallway toward the living room of the house, where his canopy and bean bag were.

"Oh, I definitely would, but unfortunately I can't go out into the sunlight! I'll burn to a crisp!" Doma exclaims as he follows behind her like a tail.

"Oh, shit, right! That's also what I heard about demons; that they can't go into the sunlight 'cuz they'll just burn. I forgot about it, that's so cool! So what, your skin just, like, completely burns and disappears? Like a vampire?" Charli asks, her interest drawn back to the idea of him and his mystic capabilities and aspects as she stops, swinging around and eyeing him.

"Yeah, yeah, basically! Our skin and bones get scorched, pretty much everything! The sun is one thing that can kill any demon, along with the Nichirin sword, which is the sword all Demon Slayers carry! But the demon must be beheaded!" Doma explains with his charm.

"That's wild. So literally just those two things can kill you? But, buuuut.” Charli’s eyes peer around the living room. They then land on the black cloak he had sported just the other day hung up on a hook underneath the canopy beside his bean bag. Briskly, she hurries over and retrieves the cloak from the hook, returning back over to him and throwing the cloak over him.
"You can cover yourself, right? There's no way the sun can burn you if you're covered!" She backs up, scrutinizing him from head to toe checking if any of his skin was visible. 

Doma chuckles muffled with his cloak over him.
"Nope! You're right, Charli! The sun has to shine directly on a demon for it to burn!"

"Yeah!! And your pants are long, and your socks, too, so it can't shine on your legs or ankles! Let's gooo! Could you go with me?!" 

"Of course! I'll tag along with you!" Doma cheers, throwing his covered arms into the air like a child.

"Cool! All right, let's go!" she frolics, making her way to the front door and priding it open with impatience and gaiety. She couldn't remember a time where she felt so happy. So free. Even though she witnessed her parents dead just last night, it couldn't exactly wrap all around her head. Nothing could. The depression she's been carrying on her shoulders for so many years almost seemed to be absent, all because she felt like she found a friend. A very peculiar one, too.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

★──────★──────★

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Charli prides out of Doma’s house, nature slapping her right in the face.
Despite him being a murderer, she genuinely didn't mind living at a place like this. Walking out to nothing but mother nature is pretty therapeutic, rather than walking out to run down houses and annoying old people; and not to mention how lovely his house was. She was honestly stoked at how clean he keeps it.

She was expecting his home to be like a shed. A shed that had chains hanging from the ceiling that kept humans imprisoned with their mouths taped, their arms tied up with rope, desperately trying to scream for help and mercy and—no, no, all that's irrational.

After Charli, Doma steps out from his house, fixing his cloak that draped over top of him, pulling it back just enough so that his face was visible so he could see. The sun’s brilliant warm rays beamed down on him, and if it weren’t for his cloak, he’d probably be sweltered to ashes by now. Nature’s brisk breeze blew, pompting Charli and Doma’s hair to flail within it, along with his cloak. 
Reaching his arm out behind him, his hand clutches the front door’s knob, swinging it shut with a clamoring thud. 

Charli peers back at him, raising her thumb into the air.
"You good?"

Doma's quick to nod.
"Yeah, I'm good! This is just really weird! If my cloak gets taken away by the wind, I'll be a complete goner! Unless I can find some shade fast enough. I like this, it's so risky!" His charismatic carefree laugh accompanies the whooshing wind and lively birds tweeting and chirping graceful songs all about the forest.

Charli wittily rolls her eyes and retorts, "Yet you call me weird. Listen to yourself when you talk.” 
She whirls around and begins down the woods, a chuckle emitting from her. 

"I do, I think I sound perfectly normal!" Doma responds with his jovial voice, hastily catching up to her.

"Yeah, that's a problem we need to fix, then," she snickers, although only half-joking.
"I can lead the way, also. I remember how to get to my village, surprisingly."

"Aye-aye, captain!" Doma promptly throws his hand up beside his head, saluting civilly with his expression altering to a satirical stony glare, earning a laugh from Charli. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Both the demon and the girl ultimately make it down the pathway through the steep hill, now sauntering through neighborhoods of her village, the stifling sun continuing to radiate her blistering heat all across Japan. The weather was a lot warmer today, frankly the warmest it's ever been all month. And even though Charli was one to love hot and warm weather, she still always complained about it.

"Shit, man," she groans, wiping glossy sweat off her forehead.
"It's hot as balls today; it feels like summer."
Her head pivots to peer at Doma, and even with a black cloak covering him, he appeared completely fine with a content, cheery smile, not one drop of sweat apparent on his pale face.

"Luck you, I'm assuming the hot weather doesn't bother you? I'm over here sweating my ass off," she remarks, rolling up her hoodie sleeves.

"Nope, it doesn't! My body's temperature is a lot colder as you already know, so the hot weather, nor the cold weather bother me! But I can cool you down, Charli, come here."

He halts in his tracks, leading Charli to halt in hers as well. He next lifts his covered hand, placing it on top of her head, closing both his eyes. And it wasn’t long until Charli's body jolts as she felt a shivering chill course through her, lowering her heated body’s temperature and chastening her palpitating heart.

"WuOAHhh! What the! That feels weird as hell!" she enthusiastically exclaims, her body now as cool as a popsicle. With one hand, she grips tight onto his wrist.

"Does it?! It'll control your body temperature for a little while so you won’t feel really hot!” he retorts, taking his hand off her head. 

"That's so damn sick! So if I'm, like, having a heatstroke, you could instantly make it go away with that—power, or trick, or whatever you wanna call it?" she inquires, letting go of his wrist. 

"Well, I'm not so sure about a heatstroke! Heatstrokes don't just go away within seconds, they can take—"

His words stay stuck on his tongue when all of his attention gets caught by Charli's left arm as soon she let his wrist go.
In an instant, his hand reached down, clasping her arm and hoisting it to his face. Scars, big and small lined up in close proximity on certain places of her forearm, looking to be rather old and almost faded.

"Hey—!” Charli sputters. “What are you—oh.”
Closing in on the realization, her words also stay lingered on the tip of her tongue, and she lets him scrutinize her scarred arm. 

"Yeah, don't worry about those. They're old, really old. I was an edgy teen back then, but I grew out of it,” she sheepishly says, now finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him. 

"What made you do that, Charli?" he curiously pries, giving her back her arm.

After receiving her arm back, she places it at her side.
"Uhhh, I don't know, just—life," she snickers, shrugging her shoulders. "My friends were, like, the primary reason why I started to do it, though."

"You still need to tell me what happened with those friends!" Doma points at her, his eyebrows drawn close wittily. 

"Yeah, I was just about to," she retorts, resuming her stroll down her village with Doma keeping up beside her. 
"They were just, like—assholes, I guess," she begins to explain. "Always judged me for everything I did, said, wore, I don't know. You name it, they judged me for it. They had a little bit more money than my family, and always would always flaunt it to me like it was such a big deal."

"Yuck, I hate people like that! That sounds so awful." Doma pouts while sticking out his tongue, already utterly displeased with how her past friends sounded. 

His silly expression earns another laugh from Charli. "Yeah, me too. But the real reason why they made me do that shit to myself was because they pretty much always made fun of my body because they had, like, "perfect figures.”” She sarcastically gestures both her fingers. 
“And as you can tell by me, I don’t have a perfect figure, obviously.” 

A loud dramatic gasp emits out from Doma, his eyes widened as they glared at Charli in disbelief. One hand shoots over his mouth, covering it. 

"Charli, did they call you the f-word?!" 

"Ah—" Charli's eyes go wide, her face appearing entirely bewildered. She then promptly busts out laughing, a big smile on her face. "HAHAHA! What the hell? The "f-word"? Pfftt—yes, they called me the f-word. They did a lot, actually.”

"But—you aren't even?!" Doma’s face reverts back to a disgruntled pout. 

"Yeah, I know, I just tried to convince myself I wasn't because any girl they saw that had a little bit more meat on their legs or whatever would be deemed as it. They also made fun of my tits as well because even when I was, like, fourteen, they were a lot bigger than all of theirs and they all had smaller sizes, I don’t know," Charli continued.

"Eh?! Oh, dear, all right, now! It's come to a point where it sounds like they were just envious of you! There's nothing wrong with your body, or your chest! They are big and beautiful!" Doma exclaims with passion, his eyebrows furrowed with obstinacy.

Charli chuckles over his courageous remark. "You're so weird, I love it actually."

"No, you're weird, Charli. You licked your own blood," Doma protests. His remark seemed whimsical, but the tone of his voice was evident he was serious about his thoughts of her being weird for that. Still. 

"Do you seriously think I'm weird for that? Everyone licks their own blood, at least if it's like a tiny speck when you get cut. If they're arm is gashed open, they're not gonna fucking hover it above their mouth to catch the dripping blood.” With a laugh she demonstrates, gesturing her forearm above her mouth.

Doma snorts and chuckles heartily from her helpful example. “Well, I know that! Since you're afraid of blood, I only figured you wouldn't like to lick it!"

"Well, no, I'm not scared of, like—blood on my finger from a small cut. It has to be a lot of blood for me to start freaking out. Or a dead body, too, I don’t know.” 

"Ah, I see! So just stuff that’s really nasty? Like what I showed you the other day?!" Doma inquires with a joyous beam, almost in a satirical manner. 

Charli halted for a moment, visualizing the "example" he displayed for her merely a few days ago. In that moment she couldn't descry much of anything since it was dark, but she did manage to perceive the silhouettes of the Slayers' heads being decapitated, and the thought of it still makes her stomach turn in disturbance. Her face scrunches in apparent displeasure. 

"Yeah, but let's not talk about that. It makes me—"

Before Charli could finish, her attention gets caught up in her house up ahead, her eyes going wide. Her stomach slumped to her ankles, and she began to fumble with her fingers as they were inside her hoodie pockets, feeling anxiety and dread creep up along her skin.

"That's it up there," she utters.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

The first thing Charli noticed about her home was the front door being closed.

"I remember it being opened after I ran. Maybe the Demon Slayer closed it? I don't know. Before I left, I saw them walk away, so they couldn't have. Unless someone else is already living there." Charli suggested, her eyebrows drawing close over the notion of someone already living in the house while all her belongings were still in it.

“Or the Kakushi came to clean up," Doma presumes, his eyes leering on the closed door. 

"Kakushi?" she questions, her view now on him. 

Doma nods.
"Yeah. They clean up whatever is left after fights, and they also aid to the Slayers who are in need after fights! I have seen them many times before. I suppose they may have cleaned your house up," he explains, maintaining eye contact with her. 

"I see. But—what if they didn't, and their bodies are still there?" Her voice almost tremors as her attention draws back to the door. The pestering lump formed at her throat, practically choking her. 

"Would you like me to go first?" Doma offers, his honeyed voice low and civil, the smile shaping his lips and the glimmer in his eyes warm and benevolent. 

Charli says nothing. Her glare remains toward the door for seconds more before she finally peers at him, nodding twice. And with that, Doma strolled toward the house, twisting the old round doorknob and priding the creaky door open. In the process, Charli shut her eyes tight, whipping her head away to avoid possibly witnessing anything that would flip her stomach inside out. 

"Looks pretty normal to me!" Doma shouts out, his pitch vaguely muffled.  

"I'm pretty sure dead bodies and blood would look normal to you," Charli utters, keeping her eyes winced shut. 

“No, no, Charli! There's nothing, look!" Doma exclaims, whirling around and looking out at her, still standing in the house. Judging by the tone of his trustworthy voice and remark, Charli decided to reluctantly open her eyes gradually. They instantly gawked at the home’s wooden floor beneath him, perceiving no sign of blood anywhere. Her eyes then go wide, and she urgently rushes toward the door, prompting Doma to quickly shuffle aside as she plowed in. 

She glanced all around, starting from the floor where the demon had been feasting on her father, then to the wall where her mother was held up by the vast spikes that were pierced through her body. Everything was spotless, as if nothing ever happened; as if their blood and lifeless bodies weren't displayed across the living room just hours ago. Charli's penny brown eyes glistened as she blinked a few times, prickling with tears. She despised her life and them, and even so, it still left her appalled and dazed how they instantaneously left the world without any forewarning or indication.
She was shocked at how her entire life changed within a few hours. 

"Charli, don't cry!" Doma pleads after noticing the tears welled in her eyes. "Hold my hand, I'll walk with you." He offers, holding out his hand to her. 

Charli wipes her eyes with the back of her palm, sniffling before looking down at his hand. A smile creeps up at her lips, and she chuckles softly, accepting his offer, grabbing his frigid hand into hers. 
"Thanks. You're really nice to me," she murmurs inaudibly as her eyes loomed down at the floor beneath her. 

"No problem. You're really nice to me, too!" Doma's cheery voice filled the somber walls of the house. 

Charli chuckles softly as she began to walk, pulling him with her. She first went for all the windows, closing the shades and curtains to block out the sunlight, and next headed back toward the front door. Upon shutting it, the sunlight that beamed in progressively vanished as it closed firmly.
"All right, for now you can take your cloak off. It's safe."

Doma's free hand reaches behind his head, pulling off the cloak, letting it fall to the floor behind his feet. The house was even more dim now, causing Doma's beguiling eyes to glow within its gloom. They glanced around the living room and, frankly, Charli began to feel embarrassed since—compared to his place, hers wasn't nearly as nice and wouldn't ever be.

"It's nothing compared to your place, and I know it fucking reeks like cigarettes. Both my parents smoked inside everyday like a bunch of bozos. That's—also what my friends made fun of me for. No matter how many times I wash my clothes, they always smell like cigarettes. And—I was gonna ask because I'm curious, did you, or do you smell cigarette smoke on me?"  

"Yes, I did, and do," Doma answers, his attention now drawn back to her. "I smelled it even when I first met you a couple days back! But I didn't think to say anything. It makes no sense to point it out, right?" 

"Yeah, exactly! Literally all they did was point out how I smelled like that shit all the time like I didn't already know, and it pissed me off. I'm really glad you aren't the type to point out literally every single bad thing about a person. I don't know, I just," Charli pauses for a moment, her smile remaining as her eyes were locked to the floor. 
"I can't believe everything from my life is gone now. I don't know if it's a dream come true, or a nightmare. It's just—really scary how anyone can just be taken away from life at any given moment, especially yourself."

Doma was beginning to feel a bit useless. He felt uncertain about how to comfort Charli since she was evidently struggling with her feelings. He simply smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. 
"Your life won't be taken at any given moment as long as I'm around. I'll be your guard dog!" he says with glee as he closes his eyes, chuckling. 

"My guard dog? Please don't ever say that again." She snickers. "I'm kidding. I don't mean to keep talking about my sad ass life, also. I don't wanna bore you or anything. Let's go upstairs." She next whirls to the left, pulling Doma toward the staircase. Venturing up, she tugs him along, her hand still seizing his tight. 

"You won't bore me from talking about that!" Doma exclaims, close behind her. 

"Of course I will. My room's up here, also. I have huge ass bags I can put some stuff in," she says as she pulls him into her bedroom, the sun at the window shielded away by the beige curtains.

After tugging him in, she let go of his hand and ambled toward the closet, navigating over some of her clothes that were strewn across the floor. With day's light now brightening her room, the untidy clutter she had in it unveiled.
"Sorry about the mess." She sheepishly chuckles, pulling open the closet's sliding door and reaching in, retrieving three black duffel bags. Doma steps into her room, his prismatic gaze glancing all around it with unwavering awe, ignoring the disheveled garments scattered all about. 

"Whaaaaaaaaa? This is your room? Soooo pretty!" he charmingly marvels, throwing his arms up. Charli couldn't understand what was so interesting to him about her bedroom. In it was only her futon and a little nightstand with a half-melted candle. He quickly scurried toward the futon and threw himself on it, sprawling his arms and legs open like a starfish.
"So comfy, whoaaa!" 

"Oh, my." Doma's lively eyes glance over at her. "That's not cool. I'm sure they got furious with you for using it, right?" he inquires as he flips over on his stomach, his face now buried into her pillow. Respiring in her scent on the pillow's cover, he lifted his calves and swung them back and forth leniently with his hakama pants draping down them, unveiling his bare, pale skin. 

"Pfft, no. I can't even remember the last time one of them came into my room. And I could probably fit a little more in here, but I don't wanna make it too heavy," Charli converses to herself before her focus gets drawn to Doma again. Watching him sink his face into her pillow, she shoots him a sharp glare with her eyes going wide.
"What—are you doing?" 

"It smells just like you, Charli!" he cheerfully mutters, his voice indistinct and muffled. 

Charli blinks awkwardly. She shakes her head, rolling her eyes with a bantering smirk before pivoting back around. 
"All right, then, dude. Not weird at all." 

Doma chuckles inaudibly before he lazily rolls himself off the futon, lying with his face flat on the hardwood floor. It was like he could stay lounged face-first on the floor all day, before he eventually lifted himself up from it, sauntering up close behind Charli and peering into her closet.

"Whooaa!! You have such cute clothes, Charli!" he exclaims with a sunny beam, his ethereal eyes sifting the closet up and down. 

"Cute?" she inquires in surprise. "Ay, dios mío, if you think hoodies and cargos are cute, then I'm probably actually dreaming. All my friends used to say these clothes are for boys, and girls should always wear kimonos and dresses." 

"Hm? 'Ay dios mío' . . . what's that?" Doma ponders, tilting his head inquisitively.

Charli chuckles, zipping up the bag after filling it to its capacity. She sets it down and swivels around to face him.
"It's Spanish, it means "oh, my God". Believe it or not, I'm actually Spanish. It's my first language, but I hardly ever speak it only because it's not really something I care to share often." She lifts the bag by its handles and shuffled around Doma towards the door, setting the bag beside its frame. 

"Spanish? Really?! Oh, that's nice! How come you don't care? I think that's amazing! And is that why you're—" Doma severs his words with a hand shooting up to his mouth.

"Why I'm—?" One of her brows shoot up and she props a hand up on her hip. 

"Well, uh . . . I won't say it because I don't want to come off as prejudice." He drops his hand from his lips and gives her a forced closed-eye smile, his ivory white teeth bright. 

"Wow." Charli's eyebrows raise and she returns a sarcastic smile followed by a snicker. 
"All right, holy shit. Pfft, don't worry, I don't care about racism, dude. I learned not to since that's another thing my friends used to make fun of me about. So I just eventually learned to ignore it. What, did you notice an accent or something?" she says while retrieving the second empty duffel bag, beginning to scoop up the scattered clothes across the floor and dropping them in.  

"Well, kind of! But it's more about your complexion! I noticed it's a bit different from others. But that isn't a bad thing, please don't think it iiiisssss!!" He fervently waves his hands with a dreary whine.

"All right, all right, relax," she laughs, rolling her eyes. 
"Look, I'm a pretty chill person. I don't take offense to things a lot like the way I did when I was a kid. Also, do you have enough space in your house for all my clothes?" She beckons her head to her remaining garments on the floor.
"I kinda wanna bring . . . all of them." 

"Of course, I have lots of space! Bring all that you want! ¡Mi casa es tu casa, Charli! That’s the only thing I know in Spanish, by the way—besides ‘hola’ of course. Everyone knows that, right?" he exclaims in his bubbly voice, pointing finger guns at her with a wink. 

"Ayyy, there you go! Don’t worry, I’ll teach you more,” she chuckles, balling her hand to a fist and tapping it at her chest gently. “But also, I appreciate it a lot.”

She continued to toss in all the clothing she wanted to bring along, filling the bag before heading back downstairs to the kitchen with her last duffel bag, now packing up snacks, food, pots, pans, and other kitchenware and utensils. 

The only thing Charli felt envious about was how Doma didn't have to worry about cooking, or cleaning up a big mess in the kitchen and washing all the dishes after preparing an enormous meal. She considered him fortunate, yet not entirely, as the idea of indulging in human flesh didn't sound exactly appealing. Not even a little.
Ultimately after filling the bag, Charli zips it up and lifts it by its handles, hoisting them up to her shoulder where she hung them, her shoulder slanting down from its weight. She meandered her way out of the kitchen and swung her head to her right, perceiving Doma in the shadowy hallway, crouched down in front of a nightstand that held a picture frame of both her parents in black and white. He attentively observed it with his elbows on the nightstand, his arms crossed inward as he rested his head atop his forearms.

"That's my shithole parents. Pretty old picture. probably, like, six years," she says as she ambles her way down the tenebrous hall toward him.

"Do you think they deserved what was given to them?" Doma asks, his luminescent eyes remaining focused on the picture, his voice dulcet and mellow.

Charli was oddly stumped over the question. Mostly because it was so uncalled for. She peered down at the hardwood floor as she thought about her answer, her eyes trailing off to the side as she pressed her lips together and let out a sigh.
"I don't know. They were real assholes and made me feel like shit for a long time, but I just can't really put any of it into thought still. Everything happened so damn fast, so I'm still—shocked, I guess."

"They did deserve it." Doma affirms, his pitch rolling out more diverse than it usually sounds; more stoic and bold. "It seemed like they were horribly wicked people to leave their child to rot in self-hatred because they failed to value the life of their soul, along with your old friends." He raises from his crouched position, his impassive leer unswerving.

"Well, not really like tha—" Charli starts, but soon stops herself, her eyes trailing up to his, then back down to the floor. "Well, yeah, I guess that's a more—straightforward way to put it." She nearly whispers. 

His insensitive attitude then fled as soon as he cocked his head to the side, his usual beam making its return.  
"It's okay. You don't have to worry about them anymore, right? If the pits of Hell existed, they'd be down there right now, suffering for all their sin, and also for all the pain they caused you for a very long time!" he merrily exclaims as he saunters to the living room where his cloak lied. 
He bends down, snatching it by one of its long purple attributes before casting it over himself, covering up once again since he got the impression Charli was all packed up and ready to leave soon. Now he was just going to wait for her next move. 

"Yeah," Charli says as she forces a laugh at his remark. "I’m a bit skeptical about Hell, too, or at least before I was. But now my skepticism about it kinda decreased since I recently found out demons exist." She smiles, gesturing her hand to him.
"But also, I'm all packed up, so we can head out now. I'm just gonna need help to carry all these bags. They're heavy as hell and I can barely carry one." She snickers, holding onto the duffel bag's handles, strolling towards the closed front door where the other two bags were. 

"No worries, I'll carry those two at the door! And Charli, I have a request! Could we walk around your village more? I find it so fun to be able to see things when the sun's out. Everything looks so pretty!" Doma inquires with his contagious enthusiasm as he walks over to the front door and seizes both the handles of the bags, lifting them as if they were filled with nothing other than feathers and paper. 

Charli shrugs with a beam.
"Sure, I guess. We can, but I'm not sure what you find so pretty about this skank ass village," she chuckles. "It's so old and run down. I'd much rather walk around the more rich and fancy one that's a few miles from here, but I'm not up for so much walking right now. I'm out of shape and will get tired in, like, ten minutes because I'm a slouch." She snickers over her own self-deprecation.

"Oh, hush, now! You're no slouch! Walking for long distances isn't everyone's cup of tea. And it doesn't matter if the village is run down or not, I still find it beautiful! Let's go, let's go!" He shouts with elation as he prides open that front door, zooming out with his treasuring laugh never subsiding. 

Charli laughed as she watched him dart out in a flash, and she followed his lead, beginning to run. But before stepping over the threshold, her legs impulsively froze. Her head whipped back to take one last look at her home. Her home that held bad memories; two decades of them. Her earthy eyes sifted all around the living room, envisioning her parents seated on the worn couches. Her mother, commonly holding a book and cigarette, and her father, sifting through the weekly newspaper.
Her eyes tingled with tears. She shut them tight, her head dropping down. 
She wasn't going to miss them. She wasn't sad that they were gone, but remained taken aback on how their deaths were eminently uncalled for. How her life entirely changed, and it wasn't ever planned. At all. But Doma was right. She didn't have to worry about them anymore. The frown she wore altered to an uplifting smile as her imagination fulfilled with her upcoming future that held extraordinary possibilities. The change in her life was accidental, but it was a magical change that would make all the fake scenarios and fantasies she created over the years come to life.

Her eyes fluttered open, and without giving it a another thought, she spun around, striding out the house while yanking that doorknob behind her, slamming the door shut. The morning rays that were granting light into the living room vanished once more, leaving her home gloomy for the very last time. It was time for her adventure.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐩𝐭

Charli ultimately took Doma around her village showing him around like if he was a tourist on vacation. She also had him try various food samples from food stands and parlors, which he didn't like any. Once someone turns into a demon, their need for human food entirely vanishes, and they grow to despise it, even the simple smell of it. Doma explained that all to to her. It gave her less hope in trying to help him because if he's hungry and has nothing to eat, he's obviously going to just result to eating humans at all times. Nonetheless, she put deep thought into it, and came up with the possibility of him eating animals. 

She didn't mention the idea to him, but she figured he might take a liking to animal flesh considering it is similar to human flesh and it isn't a food that was created by humans. For now, she trusted his promise and merit on not killing and eating people in front of her, but she still didn't know his urges too well. She pondered if he were to go berserk when merely encountering human flesh. She figured he'd probably lose his composure just by simply being around humans, but as they descended throughout the village, he spoke to a lot of people so freely and openly, as if he were a person himself. 

She was stunned to say the least, and even once again felt embarrassed that a demon could talk to new people so easily, whereas she had trouble because of social anxiety. Even buying food was hard for her.
Everyone who Doma spoke to questioned why he was covered in a cloak, especially in the blistering heat, and Charli gave him the idea to tell them that he was feeling sick and needed to keep warm and sweat out the sickness, and it was believable thankfully.
In the end, she figured exploring more around the village would take at least maybe half an hour, but it ended up taking the entire day. She couldn't remember a time where she stood outside all day, besides when she'd go hunting with her father. Times she hated. 

She had a blast the whole day, even forgetting about the traumatic events she had witnessed within a few days, and how her parents left the world just recently. It was like a fever dream; a lucid dream she was controlling. Meeting such a celestial being that was already treating her better than anyone has ever treated her, her whole life. She didn't want to wake up from it. 

At ten in the night when the crescent moon was up and about with an ethereal glittering sky, Charli and Doma hiked up the trail on the hill, heading back to his place. And since the sun had slipped underneath the horizon snoozing, Doma didn't need to cover himself up any longer and had his cloak draped on his shoulders the way he had sported it when he met Charli. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"Yo, do you wanna race back to your temple? Or—house, I mean," Charli suggests once they reach the top of the hill. 

"Race? Oh, my. Why would you even try? We already know who's winning," Doma banters, shooting her a jeering grin. 

"You think so?" Charli inquires with pride as she repositions the bag’s handles on her shoulder, maintaining a better grip to prevent it from falling. She had arrogance woven within her tone, yet she knew she had no chance at winning. Her stamina was terrible, and the house wasn't super close by. And not to mention she was up against a supernatural demon. 

"Oh, I know so, Charli," Doma retorts, giving her that carefree toothy smirk.

"All right, cool . . ." Charli mumbles, dropping her head low while relaxing her posture. And in a heartbeat, she lurches forward, hauling quick with all the might she had all while carrying her heavy bag. 

"ReadysetGO!" she yells out, her wavy long hair flailing behind her. She thought that just maybe if she’d catch him off guard and get a head start, she’d win.  

Nightfall’s nippy air felt like needles in her eyes, prompting them to water up and blur with the dense trees and undergrowth passing hastily in her peripheral vision. And just when she thought her head start was leading her to a successful win, Doma surpasses her almost instantly, his hair and cloak fluttering behind him as he dashed ahead with a hearty laugh leaving him. 

“WHAT?!” Charli’s eyes go wide and she sputters in aghast.

“Oh, son of a bitch! I forgot you're a fucking demon! You CHEATER!!” she screams out, followed by a laugh as he continued to charge ahead, nearly disappearing beyond the distance of the murky forest.

”Winner, winner! It’s me, it’s meeeeee!!” Doma’s indistinct voice boasts.

”Shut up, loser!” Charli fires back with a worn out huff when her legs cease and draw to an ultimate stop. Attempting to catch up to him would be impossible. Especially with her terrifying stamina. Her shouts echoed and sifted from tree to tree, prompting the smile across her lips to widen as she took a liking to the eerie sound of her voice reverberating for miles. 

"So fucking cool . . . HELLLLOOOOO!!" she screams out once more, the prolonged echo resonating across the vast woods. 

"Hello,” a foreign voice chimes from behind her. 

Charli's shoulders jolt, and she speedily whirls her head around, her hair and curtain bangs swaying. Now eyeing someone she has never seen before, her posture tenses. They appeared to be a woman sporting a long black kimono that reached to the ground, some portions of it torn up and shredded, and its bottom parted open, unveiling her pale white legs. The obi of the kimono was a profound purple hue with small accents of various colored flowers and green palm fronds. On her face and head were keen yellow eyes with cat-like pupils and long purple hair that complemented her obi's color. 

Certain small sections of her hair were braided, tied with black little ribbons. Charli couldn't help but find her gorgeous, but the vibe she was giving off towards her didn't match her alluring appearance. 

“‘Sup . . .” Charli murmurs incoherently. Certainly she knew this woman wasn't human, and was most likely a demon due to her piercing minacious eyes and her overly pale complexion. Even if she’s only seen one demon so far, it was fairly easy to tell this was another. She wanted to remain civil to avoid any struggle. 

"Your friend that just ran off—you know who that is, right?" the obscure woman inquires, her voice maintaining a hush pitch, sounding clear and mature, the type of voice Charli always dreamed of having. Considering her voice is a bit deep, and if anyone were to hear her speak without seeing her, they'd probably assume she was a fifteen-year-old-boy. 

"What do you mean? Doma?" Charli ponders, her voice now peeked with curiosity. 

"Upper Moon Two that preys on young women, yes, Doma," the demon retorts, her reserved voice raising as her purple brows draw close. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans her shoulder against a tree.  

Charli remained silent as she didn't know what to say in response. She felt muddled on what this girl was speaking of, and she was just about to ask. Her lips gape part, about to talk. But the demon beats her to it.

"Don’t you know that sociopathic scum only eats girls, preferably young pretty ones just like you? Haven't you ever heard the story about Kotoha?" 

"Never heard that name in my life," Charli retorts with her eyebrows furrowing. She didn't know if she should feel flattered that a random demon complimented her appearance, or continue feeling perplexed and alarmed. The demon wasn't showing any signs of wanting to harm her, yet she still felt defenseless and hesitant over the fact that Doma's place wasn't close by, and he was no where in sight, as he already probably made it to his house waiting for her. She chose not to scream for him as it could result in the demon growing violent and harmful. 

She sets down her duffle bag gingerly with ease to refrain from making any sudden movements. 

"Sit tight, little girl. It's not a happy ending like in your magical little stories that you probably write in a cute journaling book," the demon mocks as the ends of her lips curve to a jeering smile.

"I'm not a little girl. I just turned twenty. And I apologize in advance, but I won't believe any shit that comes out your mouth. I don't put trust into others so easily," Charli snarks, folding her arms with her voice stoic and uncompromising.

"Is that right? But you're trusting Doma? An Upper Moon closest to the Master? You seem like a naive person who knows absolutely nothing about the Twelve Kizuki or demons in general, so you have no right to speak about putting trust into others. You're idiotic just like every other human I've encountered, so shut the hell up and listen," the demon demands, her pitch sounding belittling and denigrating. 

Charli's head dropped low as she began to think. She remembered Doma speaking about "Twelve Kizuki" and "Upper Moons" before, but the topic didn't have her full attention unfortunately. Nevertheless, she stood silent to listen to whatever the demon had to speak, solely for the sake of her life. 

"This happened at least ten or fifteen years ago when a young, seventeen-year-old-girl named Kotoha Hashibira and her baby met Doma," the demon began.

"I’m not fully aware of the complete details, but Kohota would get abused and bullied by her husband and someone else every single day until she grew fed up with it, and fled to Doma's temple with her child. Doma took both of them in for a while, and wanted to keep Kotoha alive and by his side because he enjoyed her company. That was until Kotoha found out that Doma was a demon who killed and ate his worshippers. She scampered away from his temple with her baby at the dead of night, a—“

"Wait a minute, is that why his cult dispersed?" Charli interrupts, "he told me something happened that made his cult di—" 

“Shut that goddamn mouth! I am talking!” the demon screams in putrid rage, stomping her foot and clenching her fists with her dagger fangs gritting.

Startled over her sudden burst of anger, Charli’s hands shoot up.

“Okay!—Okay! I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to interrupt. Jesus Christ.” She quietly huffs with her eyes rolling.

The demon groans, her angelic yellow eyes rolling as well with her lip sneering, expressing her vexation.

"No. Kotoha was not the reason why his cult broke up. If you'd shut your mouth and listen, I'd tell you what happened," she exclaims, her eyebrow cocked up with her head slanted.

Charli's posture tenses when her frightened leer alters to a firm, livid glare. She lowers her hands back down to her sides, her fists seizing tight. The demon's attitude and downgrading demeanor was beginning to remind her of her parents, and she wasn't having it. 

"After Kotoha ran from Doma's temple with her child, he chased after her and killed her, devouring her down to the bone, so she had no chance to let anyone know he wasn't human. That happened years ago, if you were even listening, and his cult breaking up happened—I don't know, let's say three years ago? Now, if you use your mind, you'll realize what's going on with your little friendship with him is very similar to that story." The demon smirks, placing one hand on her hip. 

"But—what happened to the baby?" Charli asks, her voice subtle and brittle as she feared the demon's answer. 

"I don't know the full details, little girl. But now you, you're aware of what's bound to happen to you. He'll only keep you as his pretty little plaything until he grows bored of you and has you as a snack. You should come with me, I'll be doing you a favor. Or would you want an annoying, emotionless bastard to eat you instead?" She gestures out her hand, her lips a wicked smirk. 

Charli's eyes go wide and she gives the demon a sardonic smile. 

"Instead? So what you're implying is you think I should let you eat me instead? My bad, but I don't fall into manipulation so easily. Stupid of you to call me naive. And your whole story is bullshit, by the way. The difference between me and that girl is I know Doma is a demon, she didn't. So therefore, I have no reason to run away from him," Charli exclaims, her attitude and pitch ascetic and austere. 

From the slanted pose, the demoness’ head straightens as her eyes go wide, and her brows maintained furrowed, not liking Charli's retort and tone. 

"And also—you're a hypocrite.” Charli points her index finger directly at the demon

On the inside, she felt afraid to even be speaking to a man-eating creature in such a discourteous way. Her heart palpitated as anxiety crept up her spine, giving her an eerie chill from top to bottom. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she took hypocrites and manipulation seriously; because of her parents. 

"Huah?!" the female demon gasps, utterly galled as she never expected Charli's counter. Lurching forward from the tree, she points a thumb to herself. 

“How can you call me a hypocrite?!” 

"You call him a sociopath, but you yourself are one, too. You're trying to make me believe that Doma’s gonna eat me with this story so I can get all scared and go with you because apparently you’re gonna “save” me when really you’re the one who’s gonna eat me,” Charli argues, folding her arms and leaning her weight onto one leg, her posture appealing unyielding and indurate.

“You make a terrible villain, to be honest. I’ve read better ones in books.”  

Despite her words, she however did believe the story because no matter how friendly and inviting Doma is, he's still a demon and must've done harrowing things to thousands of people. The notions alone made her heart twist with anguish. She refused to believe that the new friend she made and was already getting attached to was set to kill her someday. He seemed far too genuine, and it made her think back to when he told her he's never felt emotions since the day he was born.

But now that he's met her, he gained them; and half of her suspected that him now having a conscious may lead to him keeping her alive considering he could possibly feel a bond, but all of that was just fake scenarios that were piling up like bricks in Charli's mind as she continued the altercation with the foe. 

"Yuck. Look at you trying to be all tough with your cutie pink hair. If you really think I’m a hypocrite for trying to save your life, then you really are idiotic and naive. Your lowly self has no right to call me a damn sociopath. A human trying to befriend a demon is the most diabolical thing I have ever heard and seen. It is impossible and utterly disgusting, just like humans. They deserve to burn in Hell for all their countless mistakes and weakness. And Hell is where I’m going to take you for disrespecting me!” the demoness screeches, pouncing forward unanticipatedly, giving Charli no time to make a reaction. 

Her pale slim hand that had sharp jet black nails attempts to seize hold of her hoodie’s base, but she only manages to snag both of its strings, pulling them with robust force, stretching them out to their extent. The hoodie’s hood tightens around her neck abruptly, the strength of the demon’s tug prompting her to jerk forward rapidly. Her foot plants in front of her, saving herself from a fall, and she wrenches back, both her hands clasped on her hoodie strings as the demon refused to let go of them. 

“Fucking let go of me!” Charli spurns through her gritted teeth as she desperately attempts to free herself, the tight hood clasped around her neck only growing tighter by the seconds.

“Not until I see you groveling on the ground with those beautiful eyes gouged out!” the demoness reviles with fervency as she beamed, licking her lips. Raising up her free hand, her dagger-like nails prepare to slash.

Charli quickly winces shut her eyes, embracing herself for the unendurable pain and blood she will witness surging out from her very own face. A raucous, blood-curdling scream let out from within the inner depths of her throat with her head whirling away. 

“KYYYYAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”  

The pain never came. The bright red blood from her face never gushed out. It was like an awkward silence after she screamed, only the howling of icy winds being heard approaching closer and closer by the millisecond. Charli’s whole frame became frigid down to the bone within the blink of an eye, her body growing goosebumps that arrayed across her skin.

Her vision gradually came together as her eyes opened, and they met with twinkling frosty wind that hoarded around her and the demon. The unforeseen gust of glittering frost made the demon let go of Charli’s hoodie strings, prompting Charli to plummet hard against the forest ground. The demon’s keen eyes glanced all around, her body pivoting along with her eyes as her purple hair and kimono blew along with the wind. Confusion and irritability fumed her expression as she frantically tried to find the source of the sudden gush, and she had an idea of who it came from. 

Doma nimbly lunges up high above her, catching her at an area where she’d least expect it; at her blind spot. Fan in hand, he swiftly slices her head clean off, her long hair flailing as her head began to descend down from her neck, blood sprouting out like a cascading water fountain.

“GAAuUGH!—” she gurgled as her head met with the ground and bounced off into the distance leaving a bloody trail behind. 

Agile like a pristine acrobat, Doma lands in front of Charli, kneeling down and tilting close, covering her mouth and nose with his slender hand. 

“Charli! Don’t breathe in my Blood Demon Art, it’ll harm your lungs if inhaled!” 

Charli lied there helplessly, her eyes appearing like she just witnessed something atrocious—maybe because she did. Though a hint of her felt remarkably relieved to see his face again in the nick of time. He sets down his fan and snags one of her hands, placing it over her mouth and nose quickly after removing his other hand. She squeezes her hand tight over her nose and mouth, even holding her breath as she hoped she didn’t inhale the icy breeze. 

"You dullard, if you didn't want to harm her, why pursue your stupid Blood Demon Art?!" the demoness exclaims out irately.

"She's—SHE'S STILL TALKING?!!" Charli screams out incoherently since her hand was covering half of her face. At this point, she was extremely befuddled on what was even happening. If this was all just a dream, she wanted to wake up from it. Now. 

"I did it to distract you before you could attack her, and it worked, no? I'm a smart guy," Doma responds to the female demon as he retrieves his fan and drops it in his pocket, spinning around and smiling down towards her sad decapitated head. 

"Smart—yeah," she snickers mockingly, "wait until the Master finds out that you're protecting a human. Never in my life have I seen such nonsense! Absolutely disgraceful!”

"The Master already knows, obviously. He has spoken to me about it, and ordered me to kill her, but I have no fear in refusing his command," Doma speaks his honeyed voice, a sarcastic smile on his face. That smile he wore was so passive-aggressive, it almost made Charli laugh despite her still feeling staggered from the sudden events. 

Though what he just stated made a pit arise in her stomach, and it twisted as she didn’t like the sound of it. Her eyes narrowed in the slightest as she sits herself up from the ground, criss-crossing her legs with her free hand holding herself up on one side as the other remained covering her face. 

"A Twelve Kizuki rejecting the Master's orders . . . what kind of sick fool are you?! Is your head all right? You're being brainwashed by a harlot!" she yells in aghast. She was expecting Doma to be brainwashing Charli, but in her mindset it seemed like the roles were switched, and she wasn’t taking a liking to it, for it was a disrespect to their Master. 

“A harlot?!” Charli yells in disarray, immensely bemused on how she seemed, or, more importantly looked anything like a harlot. 

The smile that shaped Doma’s lips immediately vanished as his eyebrows furrowed and his face went blank, similar to the last few times he’s gone expressionless before. He wasn’t fond with the insult, as he lets out a dulcet sigh. 

“That’s enough out of you. You’re too noisy, and you’re making me mad,” he claims in his cold pitiless voice. 

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

★──────★──────★

𝐌𝐲 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐬 𝐀 𝐅𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

He sauntered over to the demon's head and stomped on it with vigorous force without a second thought, pressing his weight down, which caused the demon to screech as the pressure only grew. Ultimately, her head broke open with her skull generating a disturbing cracking clamor as it bursted open like the way a grape pops when it's squished by the index finger and thumb. 

Charli quickly averted her sight before her head cracked open, as she didn't want to witness it. She wanted to cover her ears to refrain from hearing the mortifying sound, but since her hand was already in use as she continued to cover her mouth and nose, she couldn't. Her eyes winced upon hearing the sound, and she shuttered in sheer repulsion, feeling her stomach turn inside out. 

The demon's body that lied yards away from her decapitated head jolted once when it bursted open, with her limbs and arms twitching every now and again afterwards. Charli kept her eyes shut and her view strayed away for moments more before silence struck, the nippy breeze blowing within the trees, and the crickets chirping from afar that echoed vacantly only being heard, along with the exquisite hoot of an ethereal owl occasionally.

Her eyes progressively prided open as she pivoted her head back towards Doma, eyeing him. The wintry gust of radiant wind that once bombarded the area dissipated fully, yet she kept the lower half of her face covered. 

Doma's expression riddled with pique; his prismatic eyes narrowed and his eyebrows edged close, the side of his lip sneered in distaste. This was new to Charli—and to him, too. She hasn't seen him look angry prior to this predicament. 

"Doma?" she calls in a hush pitch, fearing him in the slightest because she's never seen him look so upset. 

"She's not dead, but it'll take her long to regenerate since she's weak," he says, his jaded leer staying put as his voice was quiet and somber. 

"Oh," Charli utters with an ached voice. That’s all she managed to muster up since she was entirely dazed. 

Doma seemed to snap out of his trance of infuriation as soon as he peered over at Charli, perceiving how she looked scared half to death. 

"Charli!" he nearly shouts, his striking, bubbly voice making its return as he scurries his way over, kneeling down in front of her. 

"I'm so sorry. I promised not to do anything super nasty in front of you, and I broke it the same day. I guess I'm not very familiar with pinky promises after all. I'm at my wits' end." He plops down on his shins, his hands planted on his lap as he sulks in sorrow and regret. 

"It's fine—! You did it to protect me, so," she responds, her voice muffled and difficult to comprehend. 

"Oh! You can uncover your mouth now.” He snatches her wrist, pulling her hand off her face.

"Oh—" she exclaims as she draws in a deep breath of fresh air. 

"I said it's fine since you did it to protect me. I appreciate it, that was—honestly really cool." She smiles, her unsettled leer alleviating. 

"Was it cool? Thank you! I'm also sorry about leaving you behind for so long. I decided to bring your bags into my place, and I took out some of your stuff and neatly organized everything in different sections to surprise you until I heard echoes of yelling outside!" Doma explains with worrisome woven within him as he leans in a bit close to her.

"You—neatly organized my stuff to surprise me?" she chuckles amused just thinking about it. She remained idle at her spot despite him leaning in close to her.

"You're so funny. You don't need to apologize, it's fine, but—I did want to ask what you meant when you said, uh." Charli trails off as her view turns away. 

She began to think about what the female demon said about Doma, and the story she told her, and it wasn't making her feel very content. Her brain swarmed with bad notions as her heart ached and felt cold. Though, the positive side of her, which is extremely small, told her that if he really was destined to kill her, he would have at the very beginning, and he most certainly wouldn't have saved her from another demon. 

"Your Master ordered you to—kill me?" she continued, feeling a vexatious lump in her throat. 

"Ah, right. Do you remember when I started to bleed from my mouth and shake earlier this morning at my place?" he asks, moving his legs out from underneath him and sitting criss-crossed, resting his forearms on his shins. 

Charli nods, feeling anxious to hear what he had to say. And it was difficult to remain calm when a beheaded body, and a decapitated crushed head were on either side of her. She could see both of them in her peripheral vision prompting her view to focus hard on his iridescent gaze.

"He told me to kill you because he didn't like the sudden change in me right after he specifically stated that he'd prefer the unchanging at our recent Upper Moon meeting! He sounded so furious with me, but it's no biggie! I don't have to comply by him if I don't want to!" Doma explained in a carefree demeanor, a big beam on his pale porcelain face.

 "I'm having so much fun with you, Charli. I wouldn't want to do that to you.”

The cold pit that was ignited in her heart from all the things the demon said began to alter to warmth, and her frantic emotions were easing. She was about to say something, but she stops herself as soon as she got the impression that he had more to say. 

"You make me feel—hmmm, what is it?” He props a finger on his chin.

“Hmmm . . . good? Happy? Yeah, that! Happy, you make me feel happy!" His voice livens up as the smile he presented unveiled his pearly whites. 

"Me too," she ultimately retorts, returning the same blithe smile. 

Her curiosity was at its peak as she wondered how his Master spoke to him and she couldn't hear it. And how they managed to evidently inflict physical pain on him without being there. She didn't wanna ask him, but she figured maybe his Master was greater than she thought, and could possibly communicate and cause harm to their demons without needing to be right in front of them. It all seemed exceedingly esoteric and arcane, and she had no idea what she was getting herself into. 

"Ooookaayyy! Back home we go!" Doma announces as he uncrosses his legs and stands to his feet, prompting Charli to follow his moves.

When he was about to spin around and descend home, he couldn't as he felt a sudden embrace around him. His head perks up a bit before he gazes down, seeing Charli hugging him tight, her head up against his chest listening to his heartbeat that had a pulsation much faster and rapid than a humans. 

"Sorry—just—" she utters before seizing her arms tighter around him, the frigidness of his body mingling with her warmth. 

"I know we just met, like, two seconds ago, so it'll probably seem weird, but—I love you. You're so amazing and nice and funny.” She shuts both her eyes. 

"Aaaahhhh, two seconds ago?! Charli, we met nearly three days ago!" Doma chuckles as he returns the hug with a secure squeeze. 

Experiencing someone’s embrace made her feel almost emotional, as it's something she’s wanted to feel for so long. The only other time she remembers being embraced was just the other day when she bursted in his place out of the blue, crying up a storm after she had witnessed her parents decimated by a demon. He comforted her, making her drift to sleep like she was a newborn baby. The mere thought of it made her feel embarrassed and ashamed because she really despised letting her emotions slip like that. 

She looked past the story the demoness told her, and viewed all the good she saw in Doma. In spite of him being a demon thats diet is only humans, he has been far more authentic and down-to-earth than anyone she has ever known, committing actions someone would only do if they genuinely cared. 

Charli chuckles upon hearing his response, her clasp around him gingerly releasing as she reopens her eyes, playfully rolling them. 

"It's just an exaggeration, I know." 

"I know, I know, I was just being silly, is all! But I love you, too, Charli! It isn't weird at all to me, rest assured. You're my friend." He releases his clutch from around her, but kept her forearms in his wintry grasp. 

"Oh, bloody hell, I wish I never regenerated! This is so revolting, I’m on the verge of throwing up over here! I will not support this! You filthy animals." The pestering voice of the female demon returns as her head fully regenerates back together, glaring at both Doma and Charli. 

"And I'm not a weak demon, you blond scum. I'm very powerful! I may not be a Twelve Kizuki yet, but I have the power of one, I assure you!" she whines out vehemently. 

Doma and Charli both glance over at her head on the ground, and Doma lets go of Charli's forearms as he pivots to face the demon, planting one hand on his hip, his other resting at his side. 

"But it took you nearly five minutes to regenerate, right? That's no Twelve Kizuki power to me! HAAAH—HAAAAAA!!" he laughs out loud, sounding as contagious as can be making Charli immediately snort. She shoots her hand up to her mouth as she tries not to cackle out loud herself with her view navigating back to him. 

"It is! My arms and limbs can regenerate exceptionally fast, it's solely my head that regenerates slow! You just don't get it! Shut the hell up. Your laugh sounds like a monkey!" the demoness reviles, veins forming all around her face as she grits her teeth. 

"OH," Charli jerks to the side, quietly wheezing into her hand as she couldn't hold back her laughter. The whole situation remained sinister and disturbing considering the demon's head remained detached from her body and she was still talking, however Charli found it comical how they were now just throwing hate. 

"A monkey?" Doma huffs, folding his arms as he pouts like an angry child. "Now that's just harsh. You sound like you’ve got no existing intelligence!” 

“Me?! You’re the one who’s a Twelve Kizuki disobeying the Master! You aren't taking any of this seriously. You're a clear traitor to him and to all demons for being in a friendship with a stupid human! You're a Twelve Kizuki for crying out loud, just kill her! You have no damn idea how hard we try to raise to the ranks . . . and you just—you just don’t care?!” she continues to sprout out complaints after complaints, expressing her comprehensible hatred for Doma’s mindset. 

"Oh, my God," Charli chuckles as she turns back forward after recomposing herself. 

"Just lay off already, man. You couldn’t eat me because he came and saved the day and now you’re upset. Boo-hoo. Get over it. Tomorrow’s another day.” 

"Oh, you wanna talk now that you have your overgrown baby here to protect you?" the demoness eyes Charli. "Just a mere moment ago you were screaming like the little helpless brat you are. Now that's something to laugh about! HAHAHA—" 

Her obnoxious laugh was then severed when Doma abruptly charged toward her head and kicked it vigorously with incredible power. Her head flew a great distance exceedingly fast until it impacted a tree with blood jetting out from her eyes, ears, and mouth. It next plumps to the ground, leaving behind a bloody stain on the tree.

"Holy shit!!” Charli laughs as she draws a few steps away, taken aback by the instantaneous kick. 

"Goodbyeeee!” Doma closes his eyes, puckering up his lips and waving toward the direction her head disappeared to. 

Charli chuckles, watching his lips pucker as he waves jeeringly. 

"That was WILD; her head literally flew, like, a thousand miles per hour! You're hella strong, for Christ sake!" 

"She deserved it, no doubt about it! Now, if we may!" Doma huffs as he spins around, his long hair that draped down his back almost smacking Charli in the face. She dodged it just in time.

He ambles over to where she set her bag down and lifts it up with ease, starting down the pathway leading back to his home.  

"I was gonna get that!" Charli exclaims as she quickly hurries over beside him. 

"You don't have to carry it." 

"But I'm strong! Feels like you packed a bunch of feathers. I’m sure you didn’t—right?” He raises an eyebrow. 

"Psh, I wish. More like nearly fifty pounds of kitchen shit; like pots and pans and stuff, and also food. And I carried that aaallll day! Are you proud of me?" She huffs pridefully with both her hands on her hips. 

"Ooooh, my! Uh-huh, I am proud, Charli! And I carried two bags that most likely weigh just as much! So I carried one-hundred pounds all day! Are you proud of meeee?" Doma flutters his eyes. 

"Oh, Christ; I wouldn't even be able to lift those two bags for five seconds. I am proud of you, too," Charli chuckles. 

"It's nice to hear somebody say they're proud of me! Now that I’ve began to think about it, no one has ever said that to me," Doma says, his jovial smile and pitch never wavering despite his remark sounding rather downcast. 

"Yeah, same here." Charli’s quick to respond, forcing a laugh at that one. 

Silence struck upon them both as they continued their route back to his place, and Charli’s racing notions grew restless. She pondered about the story again with Kotoha, and how it seems like that same story is repeating itself, the only difference being that Charli is fully aware that Doma’s a demon. To her it appeared like he craves a bond of some sort since it’s evident he gets rejected by his fellow allies, and the only beings he has left to turn to are humans. Ironic since they’re his breakfast, dinner, and lunch.  

She remembered when he said he wasn't allowed to tag along with anyone, and “Biwa Lady” didn't want to spend time with him after the Upper Moon meeting. And she also vacantly remembered him saying, "You're all so cold to me," after it as well. And this most recent demon seemed to really despise him with all her guts. Those itty-bitty things made her think that he maybe wasn’t so different compared to her. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

The two of them finally reached their destination, and upon entering into his house, Charli's view immediately greeted the majority of her belongings from her two other bags scattered across the floor methodically separated into color coordinate sections. She freezes at the foot of the door, her lips tucking in as she holds back a chuckle, amused by her sighting. 

"Sooo, I took out all of your cute clothes and folded them and put them in places depending on their colors," Doma says as he scurries his way in, setting her bag down. 

"Your black clothes are there; you have so much, by the way! And your red ones are there, your grey ones are there; I put all of your hoodies over here and separated them by color as well—" Doma continues pointing out the multiple portions of her clothes he organized.  

He meandered through every section like he was giving her a grand tour, but Charli wasn't listening much. His dulcet voice grew fainter and fainter when her mind dazed out as her eyes sifted between all her neatly folded clothing before her with a big smile breaking out on her face. 

"You are adorable," she chuckles unwittingly, her sight remaining glued to all the garments on the floor. 

"And then over here are your—eh?" Doma looks up, his finger pointing at a section that consisted various hues of green. He playfully draws in a sharp gasp, smacking his hand on his chest with his eyes going wide. 

"Me?” he exclaims with exaggeration. 

Charli laughs, looking up at him as their eyes meet once again. 

"Yes, you,” she retorts, matching his exaggerating tone. 

"Oh, impossible! How so?" he asks, cocking his head to the side with his puffy hair swaying. 

Charli shrugs before putting both her hands into her hoodie pockets. 

"Don't know. You're just being yourself." 

She then whirls to the right, venturing down the hallway of his home. 

"Now, lemme go check out upstairs. I haven't gone up there yet." 

As Charli disappears into the hallway, Doma's expression changes. Blood rushes through his cheeks, making them tinge bright red as he lowers down his hand from his chest, peering down at himself. His mouth carried no expression for a few moments, until it altered; his lips curving up to a grin from ear to ear, seeming to really take a liking to being called adorable. The new emotion that swarmed within his chest was something he was needing to grow used to. 

He takes a few steps forward to go upstairs to Charli, and he halts just before he passes the oval shaped mirror above the wooden nightstand that was underneath the canopy, just beside his bean bag. He turns his view to the mirror, examining his reflection in it, tilting his head from left to right. A soft hum escapes him as he lifts his hand, poking his cheek that remained a rosy red. He then lifts his other hand, about to poke his other red cheek. 

"Doma! Can I use this dresser up here to put my clothes in?" Charli calls from upstairs, her voice sounding indistinct and muffled. 

"Huh?—" Doma jolts the slightest after hearing her, his finger never reaching his other cheek. He lowers down both his hands as he turns, ambling down the hallway. 

"Yeah, of course you can, that bedroom up there is yours now!" he responds, raising his pitch as he ventures all the way down the hall, prancing upstairs. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

For the majority of the night, Doma helped Charli unpack the rest of her belongings and put them away in spots around his house, making Charli feel at home already. She didn't feel home sick in any way, shape or form, and loved the vibe of his place compared to her scruffy, mugged home. It felt so much more cleaner and spacious, and not to mention how fancy it looked. She felt like she herself was rich just by being able to live in it. The brand-new environment was a vast refresher for her, along with her brand new friend. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

She was back in Doma's room after she finished unpacking all her stuff with the help of him. She was checking out the other decor around his vast bedroom that was spotless, not even a single particle of dust lingering around. His room also had a subtle scent, almost like vanilla from white candles that were lit on the dresser he had against the wall beside the room's door. 

Plopping down on his bed, Charli lets out an obnoxious yawn whimsically. 

"Oh, God, I'm so tired. What time is it? It's probably like two something." 

"Yeah, just around there," Doma responds as he plops down on his bed beside her, pointing to a wooden pendulum clock that was hung up on the wall, its pendulum ticking from side to side. 

Charli swivels her head, discerning where he was pointing, viewing the clock for a few moments before she whips her head back, glaring at him with her eyebrow cocked up. 

"Bold of you to assume that I can tell clock time." 

"You can't?!" Doma's eyes go wide in aghast. "But, Charli, it's so simple!" 

"Simple my ass, it takes me, like, ten minutes to figure out that shit," she retorts as she stretches, another frazzled yawn escaping her.

"Also, I forgot to ask, do demons sleep?" 

"Nope! Demon's don't need sleep, we constantly have energy all the time. Although, I do wish I could experience sleep again. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like," he says. His voice alone was making Charli more drowsy, as it was so soothing and charming. Though, she did find it embarrassing that his voice was much more lighter than hers, and he was a boy. 

"Damn, I'd die without sleep. Sleeping is, like, one of my favorite things to do. It doesn't feel like anything, though, it's hard to explain. You just close your eyes and feel yourself doze off, and then you wake up however many hours later, or it could be minutes, too," she explains as her eyes wandered to his ice sculptures on the shelves. 

Her weary expression gradually altered to a one of piqued interest as one of the sculptures began to stick out to her. It was one on the second shelf, near the edge of it on the right side, appearing to be a woman holding an infant in her arms. Her mind trailed off to the story the demon told her, and how the woman named Kotoha in that story had a baby. Charli rose up from his bed, treading closer towards the wall of sculptures, her eyes never leaving the one she was fixated on. She points up to it. 

"Is that—Kotoha?" 

Doma stood quiet. The beam he had vanished as if it were never there, and that stern, stoic expression took over his face almost instantly. 

"It is," he answers, his pitch rolling out nonchalant and cold. 

"How do you know about her?"

"Uh—" Charli mumbles, glancing back at him with a worried gaze. She never liked it when he got all emotionless and somber. It scared her.

"That girl demon that we just saw told me about her. I don't know, she was just saying that you prey on girls like me, and you trick them and stuff, and it made me a bit scared, and—sad, I don't know. It was really dumb, but you know I don't believe her. I mean, I believe the story with Kotoha, but she was just trying to scare me away from you so she could eat me by manipulating me, and it wasn't working. But I was just really curious about, uh—what happened to the baby?" Charli asks, feeling the lump of anxiety at her throat again. 

Doma’s sight trails up to the ice figure of Kotoha before he spoke, his tone remaining flat and hush.

"She dropped him in a river. When she fled my temple, she got cornered at a cliff, and below it was a flowing river," he says, standing from his bed. 

"Do you know if he survived?" she asks quietly, giving him a despondent gaze. 

Doma shrugs, his convivial and reposeful voice making its ultimate return. 

"I don't know, but I sure do hope so! From what I remember, the river wasn't too far down or rowdy, so I'm sure he's alive and well as we speak." 

"Yeah. I'm just hoping he didn't, like, drown or something. But, anyways, I'm gonna head upstairs to sleep, I'm so tired," Charli retorts as she yawns once more, spinning around towards the door.

"Goodnight.” 

As Doma watched her leave, he remained silent not saying goodnight back, and Charli took a notice to it, but she didn't make a fuss over it. She just kept strolling away.

Doma's face remained placid, his eyes a delicate gaze. His head tilted to the side in the slightest, and he eventually spoke. 

"Charli, why haven't you ran off yet?" he musters up. 

"Hm?" Charli hums, freezing in her tracks just a few feet away from the door. She glances back at him, feeling her chest grow heavy, as something like that was the last thing she was expecting him to say.

"It's common sense to flee once you hear something bad about someone, especially a demon. I don't know what you'd call it, but I feel very strange that you're still here, even though you heard all those bad things about me, and they didn't seem to change your view on me, either," he says, his tranquil pitch sounding quite melancholic, along with his demeanor. 

Charli knew several lives were taken by the being that stood before her, but she couldn't help but feel bad for him. He was so benevolent and friendly, if she randomly bumped into him somewhere prior, she would have never guessed that he was a demon. It made sense to her now how his cult followers had no idea he was one back then. Even before he gained consciousness with his emotions, he was outwardly open and inviting. Although, since Doma is now feeling all sorts of human emotions, his actual personality progressively pieced together. 

She simply smiled, swiveling around to face him, her hands in her hoodie pockets. 

"I know, but I haven't because I'm not scared of you. I'm really not. This is the most fun I've had pretty much all my life, and—you're just really nice to me. I'm fully aware that you've done bad things for many years, but when I look at you, I'm just like . . . if dangerous, why friend shaped?" 

Doma lets out a soft chuckle before he smiles, his rainbow eyes twinkling from the lanterns and candles that lit up his room. Their light bounced and illuminated off of them, prompting them to appear enchanting and ethereal. 

"Once again, I'll say this . . . you're so weird, Charli. I like that about you, though!" he exclaims with elation as he points at her with finger guns. 

Charli scoffs as she rolls her eyes whimsically, shaking her head. 

"What's so weird about me? You're the weird one, you're literally a demon," she banters, gesturing a hand out to him. 

"I have never came across a human who wasn't afraid of me and licked their own blood," he answers, raising an eyebrow while still pointing his flashy finger guns at her. 

"Oh, my God, the blood thing? AGAIN?!” Charli wheezes, her hand smacking against her face.

"All right, it's about that time I sleep before I—never mind. ¡Buenos noches! That means 'good night' in Spanish!" she shouts with amuse woven into her pitch as she meanders her way out of his room sluggishly before yawning obnoxiously loud again.

"Ah, does it? Well—" he pauses for a moment, huffing in a deep breath. "B—Bueaayynows nowches! Ahh, man. I butchered it," he laughs, waving his hand in defeat. 

"Close enough!" 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 & 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

Just as planned, Charli lived with Doma, and despite him being a demon, it wasn't a bad experience for her at all. Time flew, and she's been living with him for a year now, and Charli has never felt any better. The first month there was a bit of a hassle for her because all the graphic things she witnessed made it hard for her to fall asleep at night. Every time she'd close her eyes, she'd remember all the repulsive scenes she saw. The Demon Slayers' heads chopped off, her parents' bloody massacre across her house, the decapitation of the demon that was responsible for their deaths, the female demon's decapitation, along with her head being crushed and regenerating. 

It was a boat load for her to take in, in such a short notice, and she'd often get bad anxiety attacks while trying to sleep, but of course, Doma was there to keep her company and distract her from the scary thoughts that'd take over her mind whenever they got the chance to. Within this year that flew by, Doma's demeanor and mindset had changed as well, and Charli noticed it. It was like he became someone else, like his genuine personality finally put itself together, and Charli really didn't even do anything to make that happen. It materialized all on its own, and it made her feel more at home. Whenever she'd look at Doma, or look at his home, she'd feel safe and sound. 

Taking walks around the woods at night, swimming in relaxing hot springs, heading down to the more expensive villages further out to go shopping and do fun things, having snowball fights and building snowmen, Charli had an amazing year with Doma, frankly the best year she has ever had in her entire life. Not a single demon bothered the two when they would go out, possibly because they knew they could never compete against an Upper Moon, yet all the ones that witnessed them were left appalled over the sighting. 

The depression that weighed Charli down for a huge chunk of her life lifted almost instantly because she's never felt more freedom and more comfortable to be around someone. Comfortable to be herself without worrying about being judged for anything about her. She couldn't ask for a better friend. Doma couldn't ask for a better friend either, he experienced and discovered all sorts of emotions through out the year, getting used to identifying them and recognizing them, too. He loved being able to feel, mostly being able to feel happiness and humor. But, his change had to have a consequence of course. Muzan wouldn't let go. 

Doma enjoyed year as well, although being pestered frequently by the irking voice in his head wasn't so fun. Everyday, Muzan grew more and more hostile the more he'd see change in Doma, and the more he'd refuse to discard of Charli. He deemed any type of change in a demon as degradation. Change in circumstances, physical change, emotional change. He saw all of that within Doma in just a year, and his anger was at a boiling point.

He could instantly kill Doma, but the numbers of the Upper Kizuki were disastrously incomplete, and he could never find a replacement for him. He was never very fond of him, though his strength is what pulled him in, and he'll stop at nothing at attempting to manipulate him. It was left as a battle between Doma listening to him, or choosing to continue disobeying him to keep his friend and free will.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"Star!!!" Doma screams from his room, its loud pitch reverberating from wall to wall of the house, making it sound more blaring and ringing. 

"What?!" Charli screams back, hers also bouncing around the house with equal fervor. 

'Star' became a nickname for Charli, since her original name was going to be Starlette. Doma found the nickname cute and fitting for her, so he often refers her as it and has been doing so for a few months. 

"Your ten minutes are up," Doma declares as he trudges out of his bedroom and down the hall to his bean bag under the canopy. He freezes in front of it, glaring down at Charli with an eyebrow perked up. Folding his arms over his chest, he appeared just like an angry mom, his expressions and eyes filled with emotion.

She was perched upside down on his bean bag with her head hanging down off the front of it with a cracked open book in her hands, and she gapes up at him from her upside down view. Her thick, frizzy hair also draped upside down, sprawled out on the wooden floor. The hot pink dye of her hair tips faded out over the year, and it appeared a delicate pastel pink. 

"Already? Dude, it's been, like, five minutes, what are you talking about?" Charli pivots the book out of her face.

"More like an hour. Get up." He's quick to respond as he whirls around, ready to sit down on Charli's face. 

Charli's eyes go wide, and she immediately hoists herself up. 

"Wait!" she yelps with a raspy plea, struggling to fix herself on his cushiony bean bag. 

Months back, the two made up "the ten minute rule", of course as a silly joke. Both of them each get ten minutes on his bean bag, and the rule helps them share it because the purple ball of cushion was just too relaxing and comfy. Now lying across it, Charli properly reposistions herself, and Doma plops down right beside her on the other side, adjusting himself to lie across it as well, though since he was much taller and bigger compared to Charli, he took up half of the bean bag. 

"It hasn't even been ten minutes yet! Get the hell away!" Charli laughs as she desperately kicks Doma's legs in attempt to boot him off. 

He props his left foot in between her left arm, and his other foot on top of her right shoulder while both of Charli's legs sat between his.

"Yeah it has. Whatcha reading?" he inquires as he reaches his hand to her book, hastily snatching it from her. The book closes, and he brings it close to his face, examining the cover. 

"A romance book? You read romance?" Doma laughs as his eyes continued to scrutinize the exotic cover featuring six brilliant red roses gathered close together with broken vase glass shards adoring around them.

"I found that in your room, you dumbass," Charli chuckles as she grabs Doma's ankle, pushing his foot off of her shoulder. 

"Funny how you recognized it and immediately knew it was a romance book." She perks up an eyebrow with a witty smirk. "Do you read romance?"

Doma's laugh suddenly drew to an awkward end, and he remained silent for a few moments before clearing his throat. 

"Oh," he then utters in embarrassing realization. "Actually, I think I've read this before, well, some of it at least." 

Charli scoffs, rolling her eyes whimsically. 

"And you laugh at me for reading it. You're stupid," she chuckles. 

Charli became so comfortable around Doma that she felt she didn't need to always wear a hoodie or long pants around him. Around her old friends, she grew accustomed to only wearing those garments because if she wouldn't, they would point out nearly every single body part, and even refer to her as someone who was craving attention. In most kimonos, her cleavage would mistakenly unveil, and she'd instantly get deemed as a tramp. 

Even after she stopped being friends with them, she stuck with the habit of always wearing hoodies, even if it was hot outside, but with Doma, she grew secure enough to wear whatever she wanted. 

"I didn't mean to! It's just—I dunno. It just seems a little embarrassing, really," Doma responds as he stretches his arm back, placing the book on the nightstand beside his bean bag. 

"What's embarrassing? Me reading romance?" Charli questions as she points at herself. 

"No, no. Not you," Doma chuckles, "I meant me! Just in general, it seems embarrassing to read." 

"Why's it embarrassing? I love to read, too," she says, lowering her hand and resting her elbow on the bean bag, holding up her head with her hand on her cheek. 

"I guess it's because reading isn't really popular. And I feel like if someone were to find out, other than you of course, they'd pick on me." Doma shrugs his shoulders with his gaze softening.

"Well, then they're stupid for that. Reading's so fun, it takes you to a whole 'nother world. Also, I hope you remember what day is today," Charli ends off with a livid glare, squinting her eyes. 

"For real! It's so calming! I mean—I have the attention span of a goldfish, so it's hard for me to focus sometimes. And do I remember what day is today?" Doma repeats Charli's question as he puts his finger on his chin, darting his eyes up. 

"A goldfish?" Charli chuckles. "Me, too, though, it pisses me off. And yeah, do you?" Her tone sounded like if he didn't remember, there'd be consequences. She takes her hand off her cheek and folds her arms as she tilts her head. 

"Hmmmm . . . Tuesday?" Doma shrugs his shoulders. 

Charli tilts her head back up with a blank stare, as if she were offended, but it was clear she wanted to laugh. 

"Aaaah, I'm just messing with you!" He waves his hand. "Of course I know, today's your birthday! If I didn't have really good memory, I definitely would have forgotten; just letting you know."

"Yes, yes, today I'm twenty-one!" Charli cheers as she throws her arms in the air. 
"I honestly don't know why I'm so happy about it. I was never happy on my birthday’s growing up because I never did anything for them, but now I know that I might possibly do something," Charli smiles at Doma with a mischievous smug. 

"Possibly?" Doma raises a brow with a warm beam. "Go on, get some warmer clothes on. We have to walk to your birthday present." He winks. 

"Wait, holy shit, seriously?!” Charli's eyes lighten up. She never knew what it was like to receive a birthday gift. She's always wanted one, and didn't care what it was. Whether it was a flower or even a miniscule pebble, she'd be happy. She screamed and threw herself on top of him, hugging him tight with her cheek pressed against his. "Oh, my God, thank you, thank you! I love you!"

Doma's eye winces and shuts from the pressure of their cheeks collided together and he chuckles, embracing her in his wintry clasp. 
"I gwove youh, choo, Charneii!" 

"Okay, okay, I'll get some clothes on! Be right back!" She releases him from her bear hug, standing up quick before leaping off the bean bag, heading into the hallway to go upstairs to her room. 

Over the year, her hair also grew some inches, and it was now past her elbows and just above her hind. Back then, it took longer for her hair to grow since stress can cause hair to thin, and even stop growing. But now that she's been experiencing the euphoria she's never felt before, her hair has been healthier than ever.
Now out of her pajamas—an oversized black shirt with white shorts—she was ready to leave; now sporting her orange hoodie with cuffed black cargos. Unfortunately, since summer had been passed, the cold weather had taken its arrival, and Charli had to revert back to wearing warmer attire. 

"Okay, I'm ready!" Charli emphasizes as she runs out from the hallway back to Doma. 

"Goodness, that fast?" Doma chuckles as he gets up from his bean bag, heading towards the front door. 

"Yeah, that fast. Can I start guessing? I'm gonna start guessing. You're taking me to your abandoned temple, aren't you? I just know it."



As he opened the door to let her out first, his eyes went wide with his breath hitching in his throat. He knew he could easily give it away with his evident facial expressions. His surprised glance quickly alters and he shakes his head while chuckling. 
"I remember telling you it's too dangerous to go there when we first met. Don't guess, I'm not gonna tell you. What do you find so interesting about my temple anyway?"

"I don't know, abandoned places are just so cool! The history about them is, too." She steps out the warm house into the crisp, starlit night.
 "And I'm guessing a shit ton happened in that temple for years, so I bet the place is haunted as hell, could you imagine? Oh, God, if I went in there, I'd probably get possessed," Charli rants in elation, placing both her hands on her cheeks with her eyes widened. 
"And what's so dangerous about it? You're a demon! You can shoot ice from your hands or whatever it is that you do."

Doma snickers before he lets out a hearty laugh with his eyes shut. He closes the door and leads the way to her present through the still forest.

"Oh, gosh, Charli, I don't shoot ice from my hands. The ice releases from my fans! And please, you wouldn't get possessed!" 

"If I ever do and I die, I'm gonna come back and haunt you. Also seriously, what is it? Is it far?" Charli asks as she skips ahead up front, jumping on top of various sized rocks before springing off. She then approaches the log of a fallen tree, and leaps onto it, carefully walking across it with her arms spread out to balance herself. 

Doma follows her lead as he leaps up onto the log as well, not far behind her as he trotted across.
"Be my guest, but I assure you, you wouldn't scare me! I mean—possibly. Also, it is a tad bit far. I'm not too sure about an estimate, but we'll get there in no time! Not telling you what it is." 

"I'm so excited!" Charli squealed to herself as the end of the log came close. She jumped off it with Doma also jumping off right behind her.

"Okay, here's another guess. Did you capture the spirits of my dead parents and are forcing them to apologize to me for being massive dicks back then?" Charli banters with an inquisitive shrug.

Doma glances at her with a perplexed gaze for well over five seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter. 
"That's a creative guess, I'll give you that! But how would I even manage to do that, Charli?!"


She couldn't help but laugh along with him. Doma's laugh was overly contagious, and made everything hysterical. 

"I mean, you are a demon!" she quips.

"I'm not that kind of demon." He playfully rolls his eyes. 

"I know, I know. I'm just fucking with you, you goober."

Their laughs mingled with the tranquil symphony of crickets and animals that hollered beyond the wilderness around them. Late night walks were always ethereal and mystical, especially with the one she trusted most. 
When silence struck them after their lighthearted jokes, Doma caught up to her, grabbing her hand into his, holding hers with a secure squeeze. And in return, Charli's hand squeezed his back. Holding hands became a habit for the two friends over the year; only when they'd walk in the woods when the moon was up and about because Charli felt more comfortable to be as close as possible to Doma. He was her best friend, but she also viewed and looked up to him as her guardian. He made her feel safe and sound.

"Doma, you know, you never told me when your birthday was," Charli states after the reposeful sound of nature kept their silence serene. 

"My birthday?" he questions, his head perking up. The question and topic was rather new to him, as his birthday was never brought up to him by anyone, ever. 

"Yeah, duh. Everyone's got a birthday.” Charli shrugs one shoulder. 

"Oh, well—I'm not sure," Doma answers. He then snorts and begins to chuckle as he found his own answer quite funny. Her asking when his birthday is, and then him saying he wasn't sure. 

"What?? You don't—actually, you know, that's fair. You're, like, prehistoric, so. I'd forget my own birthday, too if I was your age," Charli chuckles as well as she continues to jump on top of different rocks and logs, keeping her hand clasped tight with Doma's. 

"Prehistoric?! Charli, oh, shut up! I honestly don't know my birthday! I don't have memories of ever celebrating it, let alone even knowing what date it is," Doma responds with his lively, honeyed voice. 

"That is insane. We should give you your own birthday, then. Sounds stupid, but I'd like to celebrate as like an appreciation. I don't know what the surprise is—it's definitely your temple—but I already appreciate it a lot," she chuckles as she leaps off another log. 

"Oh, Charli, there's no need for that." Doma's eyes ease in flattery, propping his free hand to his heart.
"I wasn't expecting anything in return. I've thought about this gift for a while, and figured you deserved it." Doma explains as his view fixates on the forest ground as he avoided stepping on any insects. Stepping on them and crushing them would end up making him feel terrible. 
"And shush, it's not my temple!"

"How about July 15th?" Charli blurts out after quickly diving into a thinking process. 

"Hm? Why July 15th?" Doma quizzically asks as he tilts his head back up, looking over at her attentively. 

"I don't know, it just suits you. You kinda remind me of summer and sunshine, as funny as that sounds considering you can't even go out into the sun, but you know what I mean. Also the number fifteen is just nice because I like any number that ends with the number five," Charli explains as she ends off with a chuckle. 

"I remind you of sunshine?" Doma asks, the tone of his smooth, melodious voice rolling off flattered. 

"Yeah, I mean, you've always got a smile that's contagious as hell, along with your laugh, my God. Your laugh is funnier than whatever you're laughing at," she says as she glances at his multi-hues.

Before breaking eye contact with her, he snorts, his eyes now making their way back down to the ground. 

"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you. That makes me happier than you'll ever know! I love the tingly, fuzzy feeling I get in my chest and stomach when I get all happy," he says, keeping his hand on his chest, his pale cheeks reddening up. 

"But, I guess my birthday is officially July 15th! Yahhh!" Doma cheers ecstatically as he raises his hand from his chest into the air, balling it to a fist. 

"Yeah!” Charli also cheers, also throwing her other hand into the air with a fist, their yells of merriment echoing all around the woods.  

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

About thirty more minutes of strolling through the forest of bliss lead them to their destination at Charli's birthday surprise, hidden in the midst of the woods. Before the surprise was in their view, Doma made Charli close her eyes as their hands remained held tight, guiding her with his voice. 

"Now, step to your right," Doma ushers. "No, no, that's your left, Charli!" 

"Oh, my God. I don't know my rights and lefts that well! I'm stupid, you should know this by now," Charli jests with a laugh as she took small, baby steps while her eyes stood shut, her other hand propped out to feel the environment around her to make sure she wouldn't bump into any trees. 

"You're not! Be quiet!" Doma chuckles. "Come on, you're nearly there! Just a few more steps!" he roots with enthusiasm. 

Charli decided to take one big step from his encouraging words, and coincidentally, her foot got caught in a tree's root that stuck up from the ground, and she ended up plummeting forward rapidly, but Doma quickly grabbed her hoodie's hood, stopping her midway from meeting with the ground. He still held her by her hand, yet he didn't want to pull it to stop the fall to avoid hurting her arm. 

A meek hum exits her as she felt herself fall and suddenly get caught. She ended up opening her eyes, immediately faced with the ground in close proximity to her face. Her head tilted up just a bit, and instantly, her face altered to sheer amazement, the reflection of Doma's abandoned temple shimmering in her eyes. Doma hoisted her back up with her hood, and Charli took a few more steps, her mouth gaping open.

The temple was huge, huger than she envisioned in her head. Forsaken and derelict, the vast structure appeared gloomy and ominous under the moon's light. Leafy vines and ivy coated all along the building, wrapping around all of the engawa pillars and the pyramidal roofs, even the enormous, perron stairs. 

Just looking at it was thrilling, and it gave off an eldritch aura, and she just knew the eerie ambience would become greater the moment she'd get closer to it and go inside.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐒𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫

"Holy . . . shit," Charli utters, her mouth forming to a smile of reverence. "It is your temple! I knew it, I fucking knew it!"

"Surprise!" Doma bashfully chuckles. "Happy birthday, Star."

Charli throws her hand over her mouth. "Doma! Oh, my God, is this actually it?!"




"It is! You guessed right. I was trying so hard not to give it away. Anyways, you saw it, time to go back home," Doma shrugs before he turns around, beginning to walk away teasingly. 

"AY!" Charli screams as she whips back at him. She then reaches and snatches his wrist, pulling him. "Come on, at least let me take two steps in!"

Doma promptly bursts out into laughter before he turns around, waving his free hand. 

"Pffft—! Star, I was just kidding! Come on, let's scare away all the ghosts!" he gives her a jovial smile that riddled with mischief. 

"HELL YEAH!!" Charli yells out before she lets go of his wrist and turns around, running down the steep hill that lead to the temple. 

"Wait— wait, wait, Charli!—" Doma shouts as he remained at the top of the hill. 

Charli continued to sprint down, his yells sounding distinct and faint to her the further she ran. 

"WHAT?” she screams out as she continued to run; yet she couldn't really see what was in the distance in front of her. Bushes and shrubs blocked the very ending of the path she ran down, but that didn't stop her. She ran through the bombarded undergrowth, and as soon as she did, her legs instantaneously came to a halt. 

"WOAH— WHAT—" she exclaimed with a rush of hesitancy as she took a few steps back. 

In front of her lied a wooden platform that was connected to multiple other platforms that resembled little bridges that all lead to the temple of ruin. The only downfall that gave Charli a smack of anxiety was the majority of the platforms' wooden floor boards were broken, and just beneath the platforms was a murky marsh with sullied lily pads, leaves and algae all coating the surface of the dark water. 

Her eyes grazed all around the multiple platforms, and the repellent water below them before she puts her hands in her hoodie pockets, stepping back more. 

"Yeah, never mind," she murmurs under her breath with her eyes widening, her chest heaving from sprinting down the steep hill. The sound of branches breaking and bushes rustling comes close behind her as Doma runs down the hill, stopping beside her.

"I was trying to let you know before you ran! Didn't want you to not see this and end up falling in that nasty water . . . yikes, this place really took a toll. I promise you, it was much nicer years ago," he says as his hand rests on his hip, his prismatic eyes glimmering within the darkness as they glanced around. 

"Nah, hell no, I'm not walking on that— bridge shit thing," Charli takes one hand out from her hoodie pocket, pointing at the platform and shaking her head before looking at Doma. 

"Huh? Seriously, this is what's holding you back?" he gestures his hand to the platform, his tone and expression amused.

"Dude, do you know how much I weigh? I'll break that shit the moment I step on it," Charli says before looking down at herself. 

"And do you know how much I weigh?" Doma points to himself with his thumb with an eyebrow raised as he tilts his head. 

Charli lifts her head to meet his gaze after hearing his question, her interest now piqued. 

"No, how much?" 

". . . I actually have no idea, but let's find out," he raises both his eyebrows, giving her a daring beam before he lowers his hand and turns around, facing the very beginning of the platform. 

"Oh, God, Doma, you're gonna bust your ass and fall in that disgusting water," Charli says with a chuckle as she takes another step back, holding her hand up to her mouth as she watched him, awaiting for something terrible to happen. 

Without hesitation, Doma takes one step onto the wooden platform, and Charli's eyes shut as she awaited for the sound of the platform breaking and a big splash of water; but the only thing that was heard was a subtle creak from the boards. It was withstanding his weight, and after a few seconds, he looks back at Charli before shrugging. 

"See? It's okay! If it can hold me, it can definitely hold you. Lesssgo!" he announces with pride, shooting his arm into the air with his fist balled up before marching. He avoided and stepped over every broken wood board, and nearly each one he stepped on creaked, most loud yet some quiet.

Charli lowers her hand, a hint of relief undergoing her as she takes steps closer to the start of the platform. She puts her hand back in her hoodie pocket, and takes a step onto first board, hearing its hushed creak. Her eyes remained focused for mere seconds more before she perked her head up, seeing Doma already halfway near the temple. Her eyesight wasn't the greatest, in fact it was terrible, and all she saw was a red, tall figure with long blond hair that swung from side to side as he walked along the platform jolly as ever. 

Her eyes widened before she quickly starts trotting along the bridge, only a few boards creaking from time to time, sounding abundantly inaudible, compared to Doma, whereas every step he took sounded quite strident, and if anyone would feel frantic about breaking through the wood and falling in the unpleasant water, it should be him. Yet he remained merry as he made his way toward his old temple. 

"Dude, wait! Don't leave me alone in this creepy ass place," Charli blurts out as she makes her way down the platform speedily, also avoiding and stepping over all the broken boards. 

He eventually makes it to the very end, stepping off the dejected, creaky bridge before turning around to face Charli. He puts his hands on his hips, leaning forward as his eyes squinted, a smug on his lips. 

"Oh, really now? And I thought you liked creepy things, Star," he pokes teasingly. 

"Well, yeah, I do! But not to, like, be alone, what if I get snatched by the boogeyman? Or another demon tries to do some stupid manipulation trick on me like what happened back then when I was alone," Charli explains as she marched, her tone sounding passive at first, but then becoming firm towards the end, yet she was only ironic. 

She ultimately makes it to the very end, safely stepping off the bridge in front of Doma, and he folds his arms, blithely rolling his eyes before he turns, beginning to walk up the vast wooden perron staircase, stepping over bright green ivy that coated most of the stairs. 

"You know, that purple demon was actually my mom," he says as he kept his arms folded, his view kept down at the stairs as he walked up them. 

Charli catches up beside him, her eyes glimpsing all around her surroundings of the eerie cathedral before they widened after comprehending his statement. 

"Wait, are you for real?" she asks, bemused as she gawked at him. 

Doma's eyes glanced at Charli for a mere moment before they trailed back down to the stairs, and they soon widened. He looked at her with a humorous glare as his mouth shaped to a smile. 

"No—?! I'm not for real," he snickers before chuckling. "What the— did you actually believe that, Charli?! I was just joking!" he wheezes like a tea kettle before snorting, his eyebrows tilted upwards. 

Charli sucks her teeth before she gestures her hands out. 

"Dude, I don't know! Shut up, I'll believe anything you say if it's about, like, demons or yourself. Like, for a second I just figured all demons were related or some crap." 

Doma's hearty laughed continued as he snorted every now and then, and she smiled, keeping in her laugh as she rolled her eyes, waving her hand.

"Oh, whatever." 

"Would you believe me if I said I was related to apes?" Doma asks, his expression divert as he peered at her with his vivid eyes. 

"Yes, I would because you act like an ape," she answers her lighthearted tease with a chuckle. She then skips ahead up the steps, reaching the top and gazing at the view before her of the woods and the glistening night sky filled with twinkling stars of wonder just above it. 

Mountains, big and small went across the sky's horizon for miles, generating a captivating view, and Charli was one for views. She never got to see them back then because of her parents, but moving in with Doma allowed her to see winsome sights that she could watch from dawn all the way to dusk. 

"Look at this! This is so— dude, did you really own this place? Isn't it like a church?" Charli asks, her eyes trailing from the heavenly view to Doma as he made his way to the top of the stairs as his arms remained crossed. 

"Uhh, I guess! But not quite. Church is more of a term for some other religions, but you have the right idea. I did own it, and it was a lot more snazzy lookin' back then, but I don't miss it," he responds as he takes the last step, now standing beside her, his head tilted back as he observed the stranded place covered in ivy vines. 

"Why don't you miss it? It's like living in a mansion, or a castle, even better," she states as she turns around, trotting toward the two huge doors to the temple. 

"Ehh, well, I grew up living in lavish places unfortunately, so the environment really doesn't mean much to me, I just don't miss the cult," Doma says as he follows beside her. 

"Unfortunately? Dude, you're really lucky that you grew up in a rich family. Most people, such as me didn't have the luxury of being able to live peacefully without worrying about being broke, or, or living in a place that didn't look like literal shit," she explains as she walked up to the doors, tugging on one of the antique handles, yet the door didn't budge. 

"Uh, also, we're not gonna, like— get arrested for trespassing, right?" she asks him, half-joking as her other hand points at the door. 

Doma snickers as he shook his head, his hand grasping the other door's handle as he gives it a vigorous pull, making the big door pride open, dirt sprinkling off the top of the door like a mini snow shower in the process. 

"No, Charli, we can't get arrested if I technically still own the place, and you just have to give it a strong tug!" he utters as he takes steps back as he kept his hand on the handle, opening the door all the way, a long, raucous creak sounding from it. 

It was like entering into a haunted mansion, only this temple felt a little more spine-chilling. Even though the place was run down, the inside still looked fancy and luxuriant, as Charli immediately greeted the enormous entry; two long staircases on each side that both curved outward. Each had sixty steps at least, with a vintage revival chandelier that dangled just between both staircases. 

"Look at this shit! It's— it's huge! What the fuck!" she emphasizes as she steps in, her voice subtly echoing within the vacancy of the place of worship. 

The hardwood flooring was a diamond pattern design, giving the temple a more elegant touch, yet dust, dirt, glass shards and empty sake bottles coated the floor. A pungent, musky scent annihilated Charli's nose upon entering, similar to the scent of an old, creepy basement. 

"Shit— smells like my old house, though. Oh, God, I hope I don't get an allergy attack. You know I get such bad allergic reactions when there's a lot of dust," she says as she grabs the collar of her hoodie, pulling it up and over her nose. 

As the immense door remained open, moonlight crept in, granting dim light within the building, and Doma lets go of the door, making his way in.

"I'll just leave that open to have some light," he says, his serene, mellow voice also silently echoing from wall to wall. 

Spiderwebs and cobwebs invaded nearly every single corner of the place, along with the old, shabby furniture that remained, which only contained small end tables with lamps on top of them. The majority of the tables had spiderwebs between the legs, and some of the lamps on them had no shade covers. Leather couches covered in thick coats of grey dust also remained, some perfectly intact while others had rips and tears. 

While walking towards the staircase on the right, Charli accidentally kicks a sake bottle, making it create a ringing clatter sound as it rolled a few feet from her. She then bends down, picking it up by the neck, examining it before she takes a deep breath, blowing off the dust that was layering the bottle. 

"Sake? Did the people here drink a lot of this or something? These bottles are literally everywhere. Make sure you don't step on the glass, there's also so much glass shards, like, everywhere," she says, taking her eyes off the empty bottle and peering all around the mucky floor. 

"Yeaahh, sake was a bit popular here as you can tell, but I also used it a lot as well, I used to take sake baths," he dulcetly chuckles with his eyes shut. 

"What? Hello?" Charli utters in confusion as her eyes make their way to Doma's from the floor, apprehending what he just said.  

Doma stood staring at her for a few moments, seeming puzzled over her response. He smiled, feeling truly bewildered as his head tilted to the side. 

"— 'Sup?" he chuckles, baffled as a sweat drop falls from his forehead. 

"No, no, I mean, like, why the hell did you take baths in alcohol?" she asks, eminently amused. 

"Aaahhh, well, taking sake baths is a normal thing amongst people actually! It's really good for your skin, and when I was human, I drank lots of it, but when I became a demon, I couldn't anymore, so I just started to take baths in it,"  he explains with humor in his tone. 

"So you're telling me," Charli starts as she places the bottle back down, it clinking as it met with the floor.

"You remember that from when you were a human nearly two centuries ago, but you don't remember your birthday?" She turns around, looking at him with a risible smile. 

"Ohhh, lord, how did I know you were gonna say that, Charli?" he places a hand on his face, putting his other on his hip.

"It's the truth," she chuckles. "Dude can remember something from almost two-hundred years ago, but can't remember his own birthday," she jokingly pokes fun at him as she makes her way to the stairs. She glides her hand on the sleek, wooden staircase handle, then flips her hand, inspecting it, seeing a dark shade of grey dust on her palm. 

"Gross— can we go upstairs though? I know I told you I'd take two steps in, but, like, we're already here, sooooo, might as well, right?" she shrugs, entreating him with a smile. 

"Yeah, yeah, we can, but only if you stop making fun of me about how I can't remember my birthday. I have a great memory, and I remember a lot of things from when I was human," he wittily says as he follows her up the stairs, each step they took making the staircase creak. 

"Really? So, what happened with your parents then? I mean, you had some, right? I figured you forgot all about that, but now I'm curious. Did you, like— or, I mean, did they know about it when you became a demon?" Charli asks, now intrigued about his past. Doma's gleaming rainbow eyes peer out the staircase, watching the higher and higher they were going before he spoke. 

"Ah— no, they both died before I became a demon, way before. I was a kid when it happened. I don't know the full, full story because I didn't really care, but apparently my dad cheated on my mom a lot with different women from the cult, and after she found out, she killed him with a knife and then poisoned herself. I pretty much saw it all go down, but I wasn't really fazed by it," Doma explained placidly. 

Charli stood perplexed, as she certainly wasn't expecting all of that. She figured it would've been a happy story since her mindset was centered around thinking rich people were always happy. Though Doma felt the same way with the issue with her parents a year ago, how it was all so suddenly thrown at him. She stops in her tracks, just in the middle of the staircase near close to the top, and Doma stops just three steps after, looking down at her. 

"Dude—" she paused for a moment. "Well, no wonder you were, like, numbed out for so many years. Any kid would be if they witnessed that shit. I know it happened a long ass time ago— but I'm real sorry, Jesus Christ," she proclaims, looking up at him, keeping her hands in her hoodie pockets. 

Doma smiled, shaking his head. 

"Nah, I couldn't really feel much. They— I don't know. It's a bit weird now that I can feel things, but," he stops for a brief moment as he turns around, beginning to walk up the rest of the stairs, leading Charli to follow.
"They basically put me on a pedestal when I was really young 'cuz of my eyes and my hair. I was born with these eyes, just without the Upper Two thing, y'know, and they both had dark hair, so me coming out with blond hair and these eyes was such a big thing that they deemed me as a god, or deemed me as a special child that could hear the gods. But, I couldn't hear anything since it wasn't true obviously, I was just a normal kid with weird eyes and hair. They were just so dim-witted," he explained, ending off with a lively chuckle.

Upon finally making it to the top of the stairs, Doma stops and stretches his arms up, his back and shoulders cracking faintly.

"Aanndd, so basically, the Eternal Paradise Faith cult, which was made by them passed onto me when I was, like, a four year old because they genuinely thought I was a god, when I really didn't know what was happening. Just had a bunch of grownups crying to me with their problems and bowing to me when I was just a kid, y'know? I never got to experience anything other than that.  Even after both of them died, I continued to lead the cult since I grew up with it. And after I became a demon, I continued to lead it 'cuz it was a great way to, you know—" 

"Kill people," Charli finishes off for him in a hush voice as she makes it to the top of the stairs beside him. 

"Yeah, exactly. I don't miss this place because I don't miss being treated like a tool or something, it's not all about how luxurious or rich the place looks. I didn't care back then, but now that I can feel emotions, it feels really nice to talk and be with someone who doesn't treat me like I'm a god," he, says looking at her with a amiable smile as his back leans against the staircase railing. 

Charli remained speechless. She broke eye contact with him as her eyes were now fixated on the dusty wooden floor beneath her. She wasn't anticipating any of that from him, and she was beginning to feel guilty how she complained about her life and parents a lot when his past life was worst, yet he never even complained once. He didn't have a need to since it was so many years ago, but she couldn't help but feel remorse and compare her past problems to his.

She felt like she shouldn't talk to him about her parents ever again, and felt like she should have never even complained to him about them, too.

Doma places both his palms on the staircase railing behind him, crossing his legs as his eyes also focus on the floor. 

"Sorry if I ruined the moo—"

"No, it's fine, I did the same thing before, remember? With my parents. But— Doma, I know you said you were born without emotion, but, like— I don't think you realize what all that could do to someone, especially from a young age. You're born and then immediately thrown to a bunch of random stupid people like a trophy and then that becomes your life. Your childhood was literally— random people crying to you, and then fucking witnessing a homicide from your own mother, and—" Charli stops, seeming to have a hard time taking everything that she just heard in. 

Doma said nothing, and he only tilted his head, his expression gentle as the look on his fluorescent eyes softened. 

"I'm real sorry for all that. I know it was a while ago, but, just— knowing you went through all that is just, fucked, you know. I'm—" she stops for a moment before she steps forward, wrapping her arms around him tight in an earnest hug.  

"I'm glad I don't make you feel like you’re a god. But— is that also why you drank a lot of sake, and why you– don’t know your birthday?" she then continues, her ear pressed against his chest as she listened to his heart, her eyes closed. Hugging him and being able to listen to the sound of his heartbeat was the most comforting thing known to her, right beside being able to listen to his melodic voice. 

In return, Doma hugs her back, pressing the side of his face against the top of her head shutting his eyes. 

"Yeah, it is. My parents never cared for me like that, so I never knew my birthday ‘cuz it was never celebrated. But that stuff means nothing to me anymore, it's all right. I appreciate it, though, and you've never ever made me feel like that, not once. You make me feel cared for, and like your big brother! Or— well, little brother I guess," he says, his smile widening as he chuckles, keeping her tight in his clutch. 

"Yeah, you're right," she snickers, "you may be old as hell, but you're still twenty, so. My little brother from another mother," she beams, reopening her eyes. 

"Yes, yes, Star. Now, let's not forget all about why we're here in the first place. We still need to scare the ghosts away!" announces with mirth as his grasp around Charli loosens, and he skips down the dark corridor that was just in front of them, his poofy hair swaying and flowing, the gleam of his entrancing eyes of color granting some light into the dim hall. 

"Yo, wait! I said don't leave me alone!" Charli laughs as she quickly runs to catch up to him.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬

"C'mere, why are you running so fast?!" Charli calls out to Doma as he ran up ahead down the dark corridor. She turns her head back, looking behind her, seeing all pitch black, only the entrance of the hall vaguely lit up from the moonlight that shined in from the temple door that was left open. 

"Oh, God, that's scary," she says to herself before she turns her head forward, looking up ahead. Doma continues to skip ahead, humming under his breath, passing by various closed fusuma sliding doors with diverse patterns and art that were on either side of the corridor. His attention gets snatched by specific one coming up, one that appeared different than the rest, only because it was slightly open. He stops, looking to his right at the fusuma door that was a dull, beige color with accents of lotus flowers and birds designing it. Inside of it was pitch black as he peeked into it, which made his beam more furtive, as he discovers an idea. 

"I dare you to go in there," he says to Charli as he looks over at her making her way down the hall, pointing to the door.

"Me?" Charli exclaims as she stops beside him, taking a deep breath as she looks at the door before looking at him.

"You go in there, this is your temple." 

"And you wanted to come here to explore," Doma jeers as he reaches his hand forward, poking her in the chest, the slight pressure of his poke making her take a step back. 

"Whatever, man. Move," she then walks up close to him before turning to the side and pressing her shoulder against his chest, pushing him out the way. Now standing in front of the sliding door, she takes a big huff before reaching her hand to the sliding door's pocket handle, grasping her fingers in it and sliding the door open a few inches steadily. 

She mentally takes another big breath, feeling her chest tighten with unease, her heart palpitating rapidly as she pokes her head into the shadowy room, her eyesight gradually adjusting to the darkness. The room was practically empty except for a metal cot bed with no pillow or blanket, and just solely the mattress alone in the corner. The anxiety sweltering in her chest and stomach alleviated as she realized there wasn't really anything to be afraid of since the room looked relatively normal. 

The only thing that was frightening about it was how dark it was, and she was terrified of the dark, but she more or less was scared of what could be lurking in it. She was about to stick her head out from the room, but before she even could, Doma's hand plummets against her back, and he forcefully pushes her into the room, catching her off guard. 

"WHAA—" she screams as she jerks forward into the scary room, almost falling face first. 

Quickly, Doma turns, running down the hall as he busts out laughing, his long hair flowing behind him. His glimmering eyes is what gave some light at the front of the room, and once he ran, Charli was left in the dark. 

"HEY!— DOMA!!" she frantically screams as she turns around, attempting to feel her way out of the room. Her hand ultimately finds the door, and she grasps it, forcibly sliding it open. It harshly slams against the frame as it opened all the way hastily, and she runs out, sprinting after him. 

"I'm gonna kill you! GET OVER HERE!!" Charli laughs out loud as she zoomed down the corridor not far behind him. 

"HAAAHAHAHA!!! Nope, nope! Can't catch me! Ah— OH— JUMP!" Doma yells up ahead, as he came upon a massive hole in the wooden floor, leaping over it effortlessly and landing in a kneeling position on one knee. He then stands, turning around and stepping close to the edge of the hole. 

"Oi! There's a huge hole in the floor, stop!" he proclaims, holding his hand near his mouth while raising his other hand up, waving it from side to side. 

"A what?!" Charli inquires as she begins to make out the dark hole coming up fast in the distance. 

"Holy SHIT—!” she screams as her legs come to a complete stop, just a foot away from the hole. She takes a good five steps back, angst crawling up her arms and spine as her eyes glare at the daunting black hole that was at most ten feet long. On either side of the hole, the vintage wooden floorboards seemed to have been broken off; the reason why remaining undefined. Charli's eyes glimpse up to the ceiling, seeing it still perfectly intact. 

"Why the hell is the floor broken like that?" she asks before her eyes trail back down to the prodigious gap in the floor that separated them. 

"I have no idea. That actually got me pretty scared though, it just came out no where! Gave me goosebumps," Doma responds as he lifts his arm, rolling back his turtleneck's sleeve, uncovering his pale forearm. He holds it up close, his eyes diligently observing the goosebumps that spread along his skin. 

He shuts his eyes quick before he gingerly chuckles, his voice soft-spoken and serene as it always is. 

"It feels so strange to get them honestly, I never got them before I started to feel emotions. They're like tiny pimples, bleehh." 

"Ohh, well it seems someone unlocked a fear. You scared of dark holes? So am I. What's even down there? Looks real sketchy," Charli remarks as she steps closer to the gap before kneeling on her hands and knees, peering down into it. Nothing could be distinguished, as it was pitch dark, filling her stomach with suspense as it slumps down to her knees. 

Doma's gleam down into the hole after he lowers his sleeve down his forearm, even the bright glow in his eyes not descrying anything in it, as it remained black. 

"I don't think I have a fear of them, it just caught me off guard 'cuz I wasn't expecting it, and I have no clue actually. Obviously the first floor's down there, but I dunno," he responds before he also kneels down, his knees just centimeters away from the edge. 

"Here we go— all right," he mumbles to himself as he cautiously reaches his right arm out to its full extent, leaning himself forward as far as he could while his left hand grasped the end of the floorboards tight. He felt more goosebumps annihilate his skin as he practically hovers over the formidable dark gap. 

"Jump across and grab ahold of my hand, I'll pull you up!" he exclaims. 

Right away, Charli stands to her feet, taking a few steps back, glaring at him with a tense grin, as she hoped he wasn't being serious. 

"Por favor. You can't be serious right now, dude. Have you even met me? I'm not doing that shit, you're deranged," Charli protests, folding her arms and keeping a safe distance away from the gap. 

"Ah, come on! You just need to take a big leap, and I'll catch you! You can do it," Doma urges, his voice honeyed and encouraging. 

"With both of our weight combined, that floor's probably gonna break the moment I grab your hand, you doofus. Just jump back over here and let's get outta this hall and go another way," she objects, maintaining her firm manner, staying right where she was. 

"No it won't, and there's something I wanna show you at the end of this hall," he continues to persuade, his voice gradually toning down to a whisper towards the end of his response. 

Charli sucks her teeth, her fingers tapping her arms as she kept them crossed.

"Yes it will, do you not hear the crea—" 

"Nuh-uh," Doma interrupts her before giving her a wry, sardonic smirk to tempt her. He knew how to push her buttons, but he only did it as a lighthearted tease, no hard feelings. 

"Nuh-uh? All right, you wanna play that game? You better catch me, or else I'll zoom back up here from wherever the hell that is down there and slap you silly, even if I have broken bones," Charli threatens as she walks back a few more steps, her hands gripping the waistline of her sweatpants, pulling them up as she prepares herself. 

Doma's eyes widen the slightest, his expression astonished before he lets out a mirthful chuckle, tightening his grip on the end of the floorboards before he stretches his arm out a mere inch more, also preparing himself to catch her. 

"Mmh, so hostile. Listen, worst-case scenario, I don't end up catching you, which won't happen, I promise I'll let you slap me as many times as you want!" 

"Yeah, you better," Charli says as she begins to rub her hands together, her feet stomping in pace as her apprehension swells amongst her. 

"Okay, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this," she repeats to herself, her tone anxious and fidgety. 

Her twiddling body language then makes a halt, and she stamps forward, sprinting toward the gap, but upon approaching closer to it, she comes to a complete stop, jumping up and down in agitation as she couldn't find it in herself to do it. 

"AaaaaAAAAAH! I can't do it, I can't do it! Dios mio, I feel like I'm not gonna make it! Why don't you just, like, jump back over here and throw me over there or something, man?!" Excitement blended with fear courses through her as she hopped in place.   

"Oh, lord, Charli, just jump! How about I count down from five; ready? Five— four— three— tw—" 

Before Doma could even finish counting down, Charli rams full speed ahead past all of her anxiety and panic, leaping from her side of the floor just right at the edge, her right hand desperately reaching for his as she felt herself fall; the same feeling you get when you drop on a roller coaster annihilating her stomach. 

"Catch me!—" she meekly utters in immense fright, her hand meeting with his as she falls; both of their hands grasping tight, which causes her to stop falling midway. She swings forward just the slightest, her eyes not focused on her dark and scary surroundings as she hung within the hole; they remained fixated on Doma as her head was tilted back. 

"I got you!" Doma's voice faintly strains, his body leaning down as his one arm held her. Ultimately, he hoists her up, scooting back in the process to give her space to climb up on his side of the floor. 

Upon making it closer to the top, she reaches her other hand, grabbing ahold of the floorboards, lifting herself up as Doma pulled her, and she safely makes her way to the other side. He lets go of her hand as she lied on the floor on her shins, and he stands to his feet, raising both his arms. 

"Yippeee! You did it! Quick and fast, right? Now was that so hard?" he hangs his head down, looking at her sitting on the floor, putting both his hands on his hips, a stance he does a lot. 

"Okay, I'll admit—" she mutters as she gathers her thoughts, rethinking about how that situation could have ended in so many terrible ways. 

"That was cool, but I only have one complaint," she passively responds as she raises to her feet. Her head stays lowered, her curtain bangs cloaking over her face, covering most of it. Her temper then blows as she gets up close to him, pointing at him, her index finger inches away from his face. 

"I heard your voice strain for the VERY FIRST time! You know what that means? I'm heavy, RIGHT?!" she yells in his face in a playful manner. 

"Ah—!” Doma hesitates, a sheepish smile on his face as he laughs, feeling his emotions flood with embarrassment. 

"AHAHA! Noo, no, no, no, that's— no!" he denies, waving both his hands while shaking his head frenetically. 

"Ohh, yeah, uh-huh. Estúpido," she nods a few times, putting her hands on her hips as she was unimpressed with his disbelieving response and demeanor. 

"Well— you see, I— well—" he fumbles over his words, clearly feeling put into a corner of shame. Though, he stops for a moment, eyeing Charli in silence for a short while before he turns around, running down the rest of the hall. 

"I'll tell you when we get to the place I wanna show you!" 

"Oh— my God, more running?! I can only run so much before my tits feel like they're abouta fly off!" she yells out before perusing after him.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

The two make it to the end of the corridor, where there were double fusuma sliding doors that were closed; both of them ironically having the same design as the previous one that Doma dared Charli to go in. 

"Oh, nice, now are you gonna shove me in this room and run all the way back down the damn hall?" Charli asks rhetorically, her chest rising and falling as she practically panted from all the excessive running. 

"Pfft, no, unfortunately not," Doma answers, his breath completely content as all the running didn't seem to bother or affect him.

"Also, this actually isn't a room," he says before priding open both sliding doors, which immediately made the moon's light radiated in, the clement brisk breeze from outside gusting in, making his and Charli's hair flow. 

She didn't expect the doors to lead outside, so her interest immediately skyrocketed as she proceeded forward out the double doors, her eyesight caught in what grabbed her attention most. A tall, great tree sat in the center of what appeared to be the courtyard of the temple. Engawa porches wrapped around the courtyard, along with the rest of the temple in the shape of a square. Despite the place being forgotten, it preserved its posh aspect, and some cleaning and unfussy maintenance would get the place back to looking brand new and deluxe once again. 

Wooden railings went along all four porches, all of them having fancy designed spindles, yet some were missing on each of the railings, seeming to be broken off. Charli steps onto the porch, making her way towards the railing where her hands grasp two spindles, her eyes glimpsing at the vast tree that, too was draped in loads of ivy and vines. The tree had lost all its leaves already since winter arrived, but small buds were beginning to grow on each branch, as they were getting ready to bloom new life on the tree in just a month or so. 

Charli's eyes trail down toward the bottom of the courtyard, viewing grey stone that coated around the yard, with a bundle of dried out, crunchy leaves smothering the stone ground, along with a silver granite floor fountain beside the tree that also had leaves piled up in the top and in the basin. Even the courtyard was empty except for one metal and wooden garden bench that stood beside the dried out fountain. Charli then looks up towards the starry night sky that had patches of fluffy clouds that all had a blue, arresting tint to them. 

"This place is really something," she says as her eyes lingered at the celestial sky. 

"You think so?" Doma's response was quiet and soft as his hands grasp the wooden railing, standing idle beside her, his eyes viewing his temple of ruin. 

"I mean, yeah, like— well, no I don't mean, like, the cult. Screw the cult, I just mean the way the place looks. I've never seen something like this my whole life, so I think it's real beautiful. But the cult was a piece of crap for treating you that way, even as a literal child. That's just— so stupid. Worshipping someone just because of the way they look," Charli explained with a displeased scoff.

"I mean, your eyes and hair are super unique, especially since your parents didn't have those genetics, but still. No reason to be put on display," she continues, her sight now making its way to him. 

"Yeah, people are just so gullible. After I began to experience emotions, I noticed myself getting a little upset when I'd become the center of attention in public 'cause of my eyes and hair whenever we go to any villages. I don't know the right words for it, but it just makes me feel all weird-ish," Doma says, the infectious enthusiasm he usually always carried within his tone vanished, as it now sounded resonant and dreary. 

"You've got every right to feel like that, you just probably don't like them being pointed out because— literally the whole reason why the idiotic cult started was because of them. But, even so, you shouldn't feel insecure about them or anything. They're your own unique characteristics, y'know? They make you, you," she explains before one of her hands lets go of the railing, and she places it onto his, giving it a firm squeeze. 

Doma hums, a feeble smile on his face as he sighs, shutting his eyes. 

"Yeah, I'm not insecure, I'm just— meh," he states, in his voice remaining toneless, and even breathy in the slightest, making him sound like he was worn out. The breathiness in his voice grabs Charli's complete attention as she scans his face, her eyebrow perking up. 

"Are you good? Hey, didn't you say you were gonna tell me why your voice strained back there? Was it seriously because I was heavy? It's not, like, I'm gonna get mad at you or something, it's just, you've picked up such heavy things before just fine, but it seemed like you kinda struggled lifting me," she states as she scoots herself against him, giving him a gentle shove. 

"No, no, Charli, you're not heavy, not in the slightest. I've just—" he stops a moment, his eyes reopening as he looks over at her, his demeanor unlike the way it always is. 

"I don't know how to say it, really. I don't want to make you worry much, but I've just— I'm just really hungry," he conveys. 

His statement leaves Charli puzzled, making her lift her hand from his and her other from the railing and turn herself towards him. Her head tilts as her eyebrows furrow, feeling perplexed on what he precisely meant. 

"What are you talking about?" she inquires, concerned, her voice low and almost inaudible  

He breaks eye contact with her as he turns his head away. 

"I haven't consumed any blood in a long time, Charli. A month after you moved in with me, I stopped because I couldn't exactly fight my feelings. I don't have it in me to hurt people anymore, ever since I began to feel emotion. I just feel, like— guilt I guess, I dunno," he describes, his manner reluctant and bashful. 

Charli stays speechless, having no idea he wasn't feasting on humans to obtain the blood he needed to retain his strength and survive, just like he told her he needed to do in the very beginning a year ago when they first met when he offered her to stay with him at his house. 

"I've noticed my strength deteriorating ever since, and I'm just always feeling super weird, like I'm about to drop. During the day—" he stops, taking a breath in as he shuts his eyes again before continuing.

"I don't feel it much, but at night, it hits me most. It's most likely why you never noticed, because you obviously sleep during the night, so. I didn't wanna tell you about it, but you noticed the strain in my voice, so I just decided to let you know, so you wouldn't think that you're heavy. I'm just feeling weak, is all." 

Charli shakes her head a bit, her eyes blinking a few times as she takes in everything. 

"Doma, why wouldn't you think to tell me about this? How long can you even last without eating?" she gestures her hand out to him, her expression serious and grim. 

"I have no idea," Doma answers. "But, I don't want you to worry too much, I think I'll be—" 

"Animals," Charli cuts him off. "Try animals. Back when we met, I actually thought of that idea because demons can't eat human food, right? But animals aren't human food, so I have a feeling you'll be able to eat them. Their flesh and bones are similar to a persons. Like, you could eat boars and deer, there's tons of them around here in the woods," she elucidates as her eyes diligently study him and his drowsy aspect, finding it quite peculiar to see him in such a way since he's always cheery and enliven. 

She didn't want to even think about it, because she trusted him with her whole being, but she couldn't help but ponder about things coming down to a point where he'd end up having to eat her. She knew it'd most definitely never happen, but she refrained from not lingering on the thought, although she primarily was worried for him and his health. 

"Boars and deer, I see," Doma's soft voice chimes as his eyes open and make their way back to hers. He stood mute for a second, his lips parting as he was going to add on, but the sound of voices coming from up above the two of them made him freeze, his eyes widening. 

Upon hearing the voices, Charli's knees bend as she ducks down, her eyes glancing up between all the four pyramidal roofs of the temple. 

"Shit— who's that?" she whispers out, feeling her heart slump to her stomach. 

Hastily, Doma grabs her arm, pulling her away from the railing toward the sliding doors as he inspected above, his head turning from left to right vigilantly, striving to locate where the voices were coming from. 

Two demons strolled along the roofs of the temple, one a female and the other a male, both of them conversing. They step to the very edge of the roof that was just above the two friends, and both of them hop on the tree in the center of the courtyard, onto one of its thick branches just above Doma and Charli, frankly catching them off guard because now if those demons were to just easily turn around and look down, they'd see them. 

But, Charli and Doma remained still, to not make the slightest sound. Doma's eyes glare up at the demons before he raises his left hand, gesturing it to Charli, signaling her to return into the temple, but she didn't take into thought that running just might create some noise. She turns, sprinting in the temple back into the corridor, the sound of her strident footsteps on the wooden floor promptly alerting the demons on the tree, causing them both to snap their heads down, their eyes meeting with Doma's.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥

"Aaaaahh . . . I feel too lazy for this, seriously," Doma's chest rises and falls as he sighs, blinking softly as he makes eye contact with the two demons up above on the tree. 

"HAH! Kamono, look! I jinxed it! Jinx, Jinx, Jinx!" says the female demon, her voice raucous and taunting as she points down at Doma. Her and the other demon wore similar clothing; a black tank top followed with black cargo pants and combat boots. Although, she wore black fingerless forearm gloves, and he wore a long olive green haori that went down to his knees. 

"Jinxed what?" Doma retorts, his demeanor and manner remaining static and unruffled. His arms remained at his sides as his multihued eyes were just about half open, unbothered that there were two demons that could potentially pose a threat. 

"That you're here," she tilts her body forward, her arm extending a little further as she continued to point. Blue and yellow chipped nail polish designed her nails, and they matched her facial appearance, which consisted of long royal blue hair that was tied to two low pigtails with yellow ribbon; her eyes yellow with blue pupils, and her eyelashes and eyebrows matching her blue hair. 

"Me and Mono were just talking about how you might be here, and he said you wouldn't be since that delusional cult expired years ago. But I jinxed it!" she laughs out before turning to her ally, Kamono, punching him in the bicep. 

Kamono reacts negatively to her punch, and he punches her back with more force, his pale face not looking very content. His black hair was shoulder length, followed by a lock of hair tied up to a small ponytail with two pointy bangs on either side of his head, and one long one that went down his face between his eyes that matched the color of his haori. 

"Shut up with your small talk," he nags after returning the punch, "the fact that he's here isn't what's drawn to me. What's drawn to me is the fact that there's been rumors of him allied with a human." 

After speaking, Kamono's head turns forward, his sleek black hair delicately flowing in the clement nightly breeze. His eyes meet with Doma's, and his eyebrows furrow. 

"But a part of me believes that façade of yours would do no good in teaming up with humans. Everybody knows how despicable you are behind a bogus smile."  

"Oh, that's right! Your situation is so similar to the boy with the Hanafuda earrings!" the demoness exclaims, her voice striking and jarring, as her face kept a cheeky, unhinged beam that displayed her baring fangs.

Doma's fatigued manner snapped out of him after hearing her, and he went wide-eyed upon realizing who she compared him and Charli to. His eyebrows furrow, and he puffs his cheeks up, pouting from Kamono's slander. 

From the tree branch, the demoness unexpectedly leaps down, steadily landing right on the engawa porch railing in front of Doma in a crouched position, both her arms between her legs as her hands gripped the railing tight. The railing and the whole porch nearly shook, and she leans forward, her face centimeters away from his as her yellow eyes narrow, the end of her mouth curved up to a smirk. 

"Who is she to you? Your younger sister, too or something? Why's an Upper Moon with a human? How I wish I could take your spot up there since you don't deserve it. I'd be the Master's favorite, wouldn't you agree?" she gives Doma a toothy smile. 

Doma had nothing to say, but he didn't need to speak because his expression spoke without needing words. His head turned to the side by a bit, looking at her with the corner of his eye, his mouth shaped to a cringed sneer. 

"No, not really, honestly," he answers her rhetorical question; he began to feel uncomfortable from her leaning so close to him. 

His eyes then make their way off of hers, and from the other corner of his sight, he peers down the corridor of the temple, watching Charli continue to run. Relief undergoes him as he turns his head forward, making eye contact with the demon once more. He found it riveting how she didn't even notice Charli yet, even though the entry to the corridor was wide and effortlessly noticeable. He could already tell these two demons were fairly amateur and mediocre. 

"I'm chill, and I'm not one to judge, but you guys seriously suck," Doma lets out a stifled chuckle as he held in laughter. He raises his hand, covering his mouth as he shuts his eyes, his body jolting in the slightest as he snorts. 

"I'm sorry . . ." he murmurs, his face reddening as he contains his laughter, beginning to feel a bit embarrassed. 

The demonesses' face abruptly changes, as her eyes widen, and her eyebrows furrow, the huge beam on her face wearing off. A vein pops at the side of her head as she groans, her hands gripping tighter to the railing. 

"What are you babbling about? You're the one who sucks. Weakness is the only scent I smell from you, it burns the back of my throat! A Twelve Kizuki like you—" 

"INAZUMA!" Kamono startlingly cuts her off, "WE'RE FOOLS!" 

With that, he lunges from the tree, his haori and hair flaring behind him. He lands behind Doma, causing a clamorous thump that made the wooden porch vibrate subtly, and he hauls down the hallway, his eyes locked on Charli. The strident stomps of his boots pounding along the wood floor echoed from wall to wall down the corridor, making her heart and stomach slump to her feet as fear invades her like thousands of prickly needles. Her heart palpitated, and she felt like screaming, but she continued to dash, completely forgetting about the sinister gape in the floor she was quickly approaching. 

"Oh, dang! I guess what I said was a wake up call?" Doma inquires to himself in amuse as he shrugs and turns around, watching the demon pursue after Charli down his temple hallway. 

"I'm coming, Star! Hang on!" he then calls out, retrieving both his golden war fans from his tan hakama pants pockets. He unfolds the pair simultaneously, with sparkly, icy frost emitting from them both, soon dissipating into thin air. Not long after, he lowers himself down to a running stance. 

"Where do you think you're going?" the demoness called Inazuma questions, her expression now diverted with humor. From her crouched position on the railing, she stands, rubbing her hands together as she jumps off, now just behind Doma. As her hands rubbed, causing friction between them, yellow electricity bolts begin to emerge around her hand, and the more she kneads, the more the surging electric formed and increased. 

Doma was just about to run down the corridor, but his head perks up, and he snaps it around to look back at her, his fluffy spiked hair swishing puffily as he does. He blinks once, his expression livening up as he smiles. 

"Oh, yo! I almost forgot about y—" 

“Blood Demon Art, Surging Bolt!" Inazuma shouts with manic enthusiasm as both her hands form a yellow ball of electricity, and before Doma could even react or finish his sentence, she chucks the energized orb at him. Upon impact on the side at his ribs, the bolt sends Doma souring back, straight through the structure of his temple and up into the air, causing a blaring crash and an atrocious scene; bits and pieces of the temple scattering everywhere like an erratic explosion. 

"OOOOOHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo!!!!!" Doma screams out as the pressure of the orb shoots him far out. 

"KYAHAHA! Home run!" Inazuma throws both her hands up as she jumps in the air, watching Doma descend further in the distance of the nightly sky; pieces of wood and rubble from the portion of the temple that demolished raining down around her. 

"AAHH!! Heights! SCARY!" he exclaims in fright as his hair and pants rapidly ruffle through the rough air. He still kept a firm grip on both his fans, even after gravity commenced, which lead him to drop down quickly, only making his fear double. 

"Ohhhh, crap, crap, crap! If I take the fall, I'm just gonna splat! I don't know how long it'll take me to regenerate!— I need to break the fall," he reflects within his mind as he plummets fast toward the Earth's ground.  

"Somehow, somehow . . . !" his prismatic eyes frantically glance in nearly every direction in desperate search of a way he could save himself from splattering against the ground like a squashed grape. His attention then lands on the tallest tree nearby him as he plunges, and his thoughts immediately spark with an idea. 

"Got it!" his eyes glimmer with intuition. 

"Blood Demon Art, Lotus Vines!" he speaks with delicacy in his soft voice as his eyebrows furrow. Iced vines with crystalline, glass-like lotuses emerge from his back, and they extend to the nearby tree, all wrapping around one of its branches securely. His fall then breaks as he swings forward, looping underneath and over the branch with ease and elegance before he safely lands on it. A few leaves from the tree flutter around him, some landing in his hair. 

"Phew!" he takes a deep breath of relief, "I almost had a heart atta—" 

Before he could get his sentence out, the branch snaps unexpectedly, unable to withstand his weight, and he drops down to the ground with the branch. 

"WAAHH!!" he yelps out as he falls, whacking against the ground on his stomach, losing grip of his fans; they both stumble just a few yards away from him, the plated gold of them clinking. 

"Uhmfh . . . ouch," he groans, his eyes winced as his frosted ice lotus vines unwrap from around the broken tree branch that lies beside him. The vines then dissipate within his back, and he lifts himself up on all fours, his long hair draping down the side of his head, the tips just barely touching the forest ground. 

He tilts his head up, his eyes glimpsing around him, his temple no where in sight; all that was around him were dense forest trees and darkness that all cluttered together.

"Oh no, I'm so far away— Charli, please be safe," he whispers to himself. 

The pestering echoes of Inazuma's giggling draws near, and from up above in the midst of the trees, she lands in front of Doma in his distance, carrying the same maniacal leer. 

"You really do suck, don't you? You don't give off the vibes of an Upper Moon at all," she mocks as she folds her arms, her blue, low pigtails and side bangs swishing in the mild breeze. 

"Great! I wasn't trying to!" Doma responds, his tone sounding passive aggressive as he reaches for both his fans before standing up to his feet. His knees almost buck as his legs tremor, feeling his fragility course through him; he could barely even grip his fans. 

"I'm surprised my bolt didn't stun you. It stuns my victims, leaving them in a shocked, dazed state; even demons! But for humans, their body will try to fight off the electricity like it's a virus, and in that case, if the heart pumps too hard as it tries, it can lead to a fatal heart attack!" she explains as she raises her arm, clenching her hand to a firm fist as electricity buzzes throughout it. 

"Interesting, but I don't care, all right?" Doma huffs, his eyebrows scrunched as his cheeks tinge red from feeling agitated. 

"That move you just did wasn't cool, so I'm feeling upset. Plus, did you know teaming up with other demons is against the Master's wishes? So you're a hypocrite for coming after me and my best friend!" he asserts, his gentle voice stern, yet it kept its dulcet, serene tone. At his right fan, he closes it shut and lifts his arm, pointing it at her, its green tassel gliding along in night's gust.  

"Oh, so she's your best friend? That sure sounds ludicrous! You also mustn't speak before knowing your facts. The Master allowed me and Kamono to ally with one another when we became demons a little under ten years ago, whereas you're the one who's disobeying him. I can sense your weakness from miles away, you've dropped from the Upper Ranks so brutally. You're probably like a Lower Six strength level, or maybe not even a Twelve Kizuki level at all!" Inazuma giggles, soon bursting into intense laughter. The buzzing electricity around her fist vanishes, and she covers her mouth as she cackles. 

Doma remained silent, but his annoyed expression only increased. He lowered down his arm, his chest huffing as he sighs, his eyes closing. His angered expression softened before his eyes reopen slowly. 

"You're a super young demon, honestly. My thoughts on you being a hypocrite still stand, though! You're only allied with him because you fear being lonesome since you're weak, right?" his eyebrow perks up as his mouth shapes to a smirk. 

Inazuma continued to laugh at her own remark, her hand still covering her mouth for moments more before her provoking hysterics comes to an end. She goes wide-eyed, multiple veins popping on her forehead. 

"HUUHH—?! WHAT?!" she shrieks, insulted, "WEAK?! Shut up, you immoral scamp! You don't know a thing about hypocrisy!" she screams as she points at him, her teeth gritted as multiple angering veins flood around her. 

Her knees bend, and electricity creates around her legs and feet, and within just milliseconds, she launches up into the sky, leaving a yellow flaring trail behind her. The grass, bushes and trees sway from her unforeseen descend into the air, her slim, yet tall figure hovering beneath the glimmering moon. 

"Blood Demon Art, Manifold Blackout!" she declares in prideful reverence, and with both hands, she chucks numerous balls of electric energy directly down at Doma, all of them diving down at a devastating speeds. 

Doma's eyes go wide, feeling fright rush through his blood and heart as he watches the multiple energy spheres plunge toward him like bullets.

"Blood Demon Art, Lotus Vines," he gets into a firm stance as his crystalized vines emerge from him like a dozen twisting snakes. He embraced himself as the bolts soared down closer and closer, but in the blink of an eye, all of the orbs of energy disappear from the air, as if they weren't even there to begin with. 

"WAAA!— Oh no! They disappeared?! Where'd they go?!" he panics in his head as his eyes widen once more, a sweat drop coming down his head. His lips squiggle in apprehension, his eyebrows tilted upward in angst and suspense, his expression bursting with emotion. 

As quick as they disappeared, they reappeared, now just yards away from him, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off of them against his lustrous pale skin, the reflection of all of them in his glossy, luminescent eyes. 

"SO CLOSE!!" he startlingly exclaims within his mind. He hastily reacts, swiftly cartwheeling and somersaulting back with elegance in his movements, dodging the incoming orbs. Upon impact, they explode, electrocuting the ground, also causing the ground's dust to swarm around. Once he cartwheels to a safe distance, he prides open both his fans, waving one down while holding the other up. 

"Blood Demon Art, Freezing Clouds!" 

A wave of luminous, twinkling storm of clouds gushes, scattering from his fans, instantly turning the forest surrounding them to a frozen, sparkling wonderland. Inazuma's bolts continued to rain down, but Doma's freezing clouds completely freezes the orbs of electric, crystalizing them and making them glimmer like precious jewels. 

"HUH?!" Inazuma sputters in aghast, watching Doma oppose her attacks. 

Though, there were still more of her attacks incoming from above. Doma's eyes flicker with valiance and determination as he leaps into the air, releasing one of his fans from his hand and letting it fall before he grasps one of his lotus vines from behind him, beginning to wave it around in circular motions, similar to a whip. 

He then lashes it down toward the remaining electric bolts that were making their way down to the frozen ground, the icy vine wrapping around all of them, enclosing them tightly together. He then drops his other fan, and his other hand grips the vine as he plummets toward the ground. Briskly, he vigorously pulls the vine that had her spheres of electric swaddled tightly down below him, spreading his legs apart as the vine loops underneath and over him. 

"Seven, eight, nine, ten—! AHH! There's too much to count! I captured all your bolt thingy's! Light work!" he profoundly says with enthusiasm and ambition. 

As his vine looped over him, it releases its secure wrap around all of her spheres, and at a devastating speed, they rush, aiming right towards her, giving her no time for a counter-attack. Her eyes widened, her pupils shrinking as fright riddled her face, watching her own attack, attack her. 

"Uh oh—" she utters before all of her bolts smack against her violently, making her soar back as her body completely rips apart from the speeding pressure of all of them at the same time. 

"Right! You can stay mad, even if you're torn to shreds, because I may be weakened, but my tactics are still the best!" he huffs as he lands back onto the iced ground with a thud in a kneeling position just beside his fans. Her frozen bolts rolled around in different directions along the frosted, shiny forest. 

"And you always know my logic will prevail," his voice lowers, his eyebrows scrunched. 

The chunks of her body splatter on the ground in the distance where the forest wasn't frozen from Doma's Freezing Clouds, blood sprinkling on flowers and plants. Her blood clops and clunks as her mangled body begins to regenerate together, her bones snapping and popping. 

"Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!!" she screams as her mouth restores together, followed by her head and hair. 

"Oh, hush," Doma's voice chimes from just behind her. Two of his icy vines wrap all around her body firmly like a constricting snake, and he lifts her up, hanging her upside down in front of him, her blue hair that was now loose dangling. 

"This oughta teach you a lesson," he chuckles as he throws her wrapped up body over a tree branch. Both vines disconnect from his back, and they tie around the branch, leaving her to hang upside down. His other lotus vines behind him vanish as he turns around, walking away. 

"HEY! How long does it take for this ice rope thing to melt?! You better not leave me here! You hear me?! HEEEEEEYYYYY!!!!" she yells out as she squirms around angrily, more veins popping around her. 

"Oh, you'll find out!" Doma turns his head back toward her, winking as he lifts his hand, gesturing a peace sign with his two fingers. Inazuma continued to grumble as she wiggled around, huffing and puffing heatedly. 

Doma then turns forward as he begins to tread again, and he was just about to run before he stops himself. He stood idle for just seconds before he looks back at her again, his eyebrows furrowing as his expression hardens. 

"Pedazo de mierda," he says. His irked expression then loosens up as he laughs, turning and running through the dense forest. 

"Pe— Pe WHAT?! What's that mean?! WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, HUH?!" Inazuma screams as her eyes wince. 

Doma continued to sprint, his heavy breaths becoming ragged and deep as more sweat accumulates around his face, his eyes wincing in the slightest, along with his chest rising and falling. The tall, sky scraping trees and bushes pass by his view speedily. He felt his strength dropping more and more by the moment. 

"Agh . . . I feel like I'm gonna puke. My body feels so shaky, but I need to help Charli and fight that other demon, I need to! I can do it, right?! AAACK!!" he converses in his head as he winces.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Charli continued to run down the corridor as fast as she ever ran that she could remember, the daunting stomps of the demon chasing after her only edging closer and closer. In her far distance, she noticed the dark gape in the wooden floor approaching, and she knew if she'd stop, it would be over for her. She shut her eyes tight, and right at the foot of the hole, she jumps into it, letting its darkness devour her.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐏𝐫𝐲

The feeling of her heart nearly beating out of her chest was all she felt as the hole's darkness took her in. One would call her brave to jump in such an unpredictable gape where absolutely nothing could be distinguished, especially in a temple that has been abandoned for years where many people were killed, but she was left with no choice. She would never make it if she tried to jump across, and if she were to die, she'd much rather go out by falling to her death rather than having her body torn to shreds and mauled. Her body would probably be mauled anyways, but to feel teeth sinking into her skin and bones before she dies doesn’t sound pleasant. 

She really thought it was going to be the end. How cruel it would be if she'd only get to live one year of peace through out her short life. One year while her past years were thrown down the drain by shitty parents and shitty friends. It was truly unfair. She'll never get to say goodbye to her best friend. 

Although, the fear of death basically bounced out of her as soon as she felt her feet impact against a floor not long after jumping into the hole. She anticipated it to be a far drop, so the floor cutting so close made her nearly stumble over, muddled. 

"What—?" she inquires in her mind as she tilts her head up, looking up at the top of the hole as she was now within it. From the floor, it was about seven foot drop, and Charli expected it to be more like a thirty foot drop to her death. 

"Are you fucking joking? All that panic about jumping over earlier and this crap's, like, six feet deep? And what the hell was that loud crash?" 

The stomps of Kamono draw more closer, and Charli's panic immediately returns. She gasps inaudibly, her view now focused on her surroundings— that she couldn't see. She holds out her hands, attempting to feel her way through the mysterious area underneath the flooring. It didn't take long for her hands to graze along against something that felt metal with a ridged like touch. Her hands feel around it, tracing along its edges, realizing it was in the shape of a square. 

"A vent?" she thought, "what's a vent doing underneath the floor here?" 

Her hands trail along to the bottom of the vent louver, her fingers squeezing between its openings. When grabbing a firm hold, she pulls up, making it open. Her eyes peer into its darkness as she holds up the small louver, not seeing anything but the air vent's square outline. It was quite the tight space, but right at that moment, Charli didn't care. 

She nearly jumped out her skin as soon as Kamono leaps down into gap, landing crouched. His eyes were shut as he stood there idle, and it wasn't long until they opened, and their green glow nearly brightened up the hole's gloom. Charli didn't waste any time; she quickly scampers into the vent, feeling it tight around her shoulders. She had a deep feeling within her that she was going to get stuck because the space was undoubtedly tight and small, she could just barely fit. 

As she quickly crawled in, Kamono dashes for her leg, his grim hand firmly grasping her ankle, beginning to pull her out. 

"No!" Charli screams. "Fuck off!" 

With her other leg, she kicks him in his face as hard as she could. Each kick became more forceful and violent, to the point where his nose breaks from the continuous rough pressure. Straight away, blood pours down from his nose, oozing down his lips and toward his chin before it trickles like a faucet. His grip on her ankle releases, and she promptly begins to crawl through the air vent now that she was free, the louver closing behind her. 

Kamono lifts his hand, wiping his blood off his face with his palm. His broken nose cracks back in place, the fracture healing within seconds. His mouth shapes to a smirk as he sticks out his tongue, licking his blood clean from his hand. He makes sure not to miss a single spot as the tip of his tongue glides in between each of his slim fingers. 

He then lowers his hand and uses his other to grip the louver, and with little to no strength, he easily rips it off its hinges, tossing it to the side. Its metal clangs against the floor before it slides a good ten feet away from him. Wasting no time, he crawls into the vent after Charli, the sound of the vent's steel banging from his every move making her panic more. Her head peers behind her shoulder, taking a glimpse of his dark figure with glowing eyes crawling after her. 

"Get away!!" she screams, her tone infuriated as her eyebrows furrowed. 

She then whips her head back forward, continuing to drag herself through the strenuous vent, her heart palpitating so fast and rough, it was like someone was holding it right up to her ear. Her scream only triggered Kamono to crawl faster, as his hands grip either side of the vent, his fingers piercing through its steel, leaving holes. 

The inside of the vent was freezing, enough to make Charli's nose burn and her body ache, but the dread and distress that coursed through her as the demon crawled after her made her sweat and practically pant. Up ahead, her vision began to make out a figure in the distance that she couldn't recognize. It made her worry, but she was more worried about the demon creeping closer and closer. No matter what the figure was, she had to keep moving to make it out of the vent alive.

Wriggling more near the figure, small details begin to stick out to Charli, and she was expecting all things, except an animal. It appeared to be curled up in a ball, and it had pointy ears, similar to a wolf; it also became clear it had fur. She pondered if it was even alive, but edging closer, she noticed the side of its stomach gently rising and falling, indicating it was definitely alive and breathing. 

She truly didn't want to have to get anywhere near and accidentally wake up whatever it was, but she was left with no choice. As she grew closer, she presses herself to the left side of the vent as far as she could, squirming past the sleeping animal. Upon passing it, her eyes glance at its aspects now that she was right beside it, noticing a collar around its neck. Her mind was too cluttered to even reflect on it, but she immediately perceived it as a dog. 

She makes it past safely, her legs barely grazing against the dog's fur while passing it. A small hint of relief lightens her up since she made her way by without waking it, and now it was back to escaping Kamono. She crawls faster as she makes a safe distance away from the snoozing canine, her heart begging and pleading for an exit, and she ended up getting one. 

She unexpectedly feels herself plummet down as she unknowingly reaches the vent's dead end. She was too staggered to even scream; her mind was utterly bewildered as she descends down the vent, unable to see a thing but just feel the bizarre, queasy feeling in her stomach as she falls. Landing on her wrist, she lets out a meek groan, feeling the bone break. 

"Fuck," she grumbles, fixing herself within the tight vent. 

She's never broken a bone before, yet Charli had a high pain tolerance, and could toughen out most pains most other people couldn't. Her other hand grasps her wrist, feeling a sensitive, tender sensation that spread through out her hand, all the way to the tips of her fingers. She sucks the air in through her teeth, her eyebrows scrunching over the discomforting pang. 

Her mind that was fixated on her wrist now gravitates to the demon that was just after her, realizing he hasn't followed her down the vent that suddenly dropped. She figured this would be a great time to continue through the ducts until an exit appears. Her legs push herself off the end of the vent behind her, continuing to wriggle through, although it was much more tedious since her wrist bone was cracked out of place. 

Startlingly, the sound of clothes tearing and snarling echo through the air ducts, causing Charli to jolt in fright. Frightened until she came to the conclusion that Kamono possibly awoken the dog, and it resulted in not the most pleasant way. Charli snickers as she continues to hear the ringing sound of a pestered canine and clothing ripping. 

"Thanks, doggy," Charli utters amongst herself. 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Finally finding another louver, she manages to break it open after just a few punches, and she desperately crawls out the dense vent, freed from its cramped and claustrophobic despair. Taking a deep breath of the icy, fresh air, she stumbles along the floor on her back in boundless relief, her eyes centered on the ceiling of an empty room. She really thought she wasn't going to make it out alive in that one, but if it weren't for the random dog, she probably wouldn't have. 

"Lord have mercy . . . damn bastard. I hope he doesn't kill that dog," she thought as she takes a breath of alleviation. 

She sits herself up before standing to her feet, holding her fractured wrist to her chest as her other hand delicately cradles it. Hastily exiting the room through its open sliding doors, she navigates through the sinister temple, not recognizing the part she ended up in. 

"Doma?!" she calls out, "where are you?!" her voice having a slight tremble to it. She didn't like to admit it, but she was rather clingy with him, and the second he wasn't around, she'd feel her heart hurt, not just mentally, but also physically. She regularly had a firm, satire attitude with him, however deep within her, she had the biggest emotional soft spot for him. 

Prowling through the temple gravely, her eyes catch sight of light up ahead, making her mind of anguish brighten. It was the same area they entered from where Doma left the one door open so moonlight could mystically seep in. She darts toward the door, keeping her wrist safe against her chest. 

"Doma!!" she screams out after exiting the temple, greeting the outside and bewitching view of mountains in the distance before her. She feels her throat swell, and her eyes trail down to all the platforms across the murky, grimy marsh. There was no sign of her best friend. 

But there was something that caught her attention like a fish on a hook. She pivots her head more to the left, glancing at a figure trotting on all fours across one of the bridges towards the woods. Her eyes squint, making it out as the dog she had just saw in the vents. It seemed to be completely unharmed, no blood visible along its fur, or a limp in any of its fluffy legs. 

"Thank God . . . he's okay," she thought. 

She then makes her way down the perron stairs, and briskly makes it across the platform with ease, avoiding all the broken boards just like before. At that point, she wasn't scared of falling in the water anymore because she just experienced something much more terrifying that she'll never forget about. After making it up the arduous hill, feeling her ears and nose burn, she snaps her head back at the temple to give it one last look since she'll most likely never go back there. 

Her eyebrows furrow as her eyes fixate on the right side of the temple, noticing debris and wood cluttered almost everywhere along the bridges and floating in the water. Her head quizzically perks to the side. 

"What the—was all that there before? Where on Earth is Do—" her words get caught in her throat as she watches the demon that was just after her in the vents walk out of the temple. His cargo pants had rips and tears, revealing his pale skin, along with his haori and tanktop. One long, slanted rip went across his black tanktop from top to bottom, making his abs and naval visible. 

Charli almost trips as she begins to walk, her sight still on the demon. She turns, quickly dashing down the forest, keeping her wrist tight in her grasp. Her legs burned, her wrist ached, her whole face felt frozen, and a side stitch nipped her. This certainly didn't turn out the way she thought it would, and Doma did warn her about demons possibly lurking around; although, it definitely wasn't the worst birthday she's ever had, in fact, it was the best. 

Her eyes began to tear up, so her initial reaction was to close them, and not even twenty seconds later, the man she was searching for ends up bumping into her left shoulder clumsily, nearly knocking her down. 

"AH!— I'm so sorry!" he sputters as he turns around. "I wasn't paying attentio—oh, Charli, it's you! Oh, I’m so happy you're okay! I thought you were some random person!" 

"Wow!" Charli exclaims with sarcasm as she winces, holding her wrist, deep breathes exiting her mouth. Both of their heavy breathing was almost synchronized, following with sweat dripping down their faces, even though it felt like Antartica's weather payed a visit. 

"So you'd say sorry to some random person, but not to me?" she inquires ironically as she looks up at him. 

"No! No, no," Doma shakes his head as he waves both his hands. "That's not what I mea—" His words then stay shoved in his mouth as Charli grabs his throat with her good hand, pulling him close down to her height, his face just mere inches from hers.

"Where the hell have you been? I almost just died in there!" she points with her other hand as best as she could toward the direction of his temple. Her fingers felt numb and tingly because of her wrist, so she could just barely move them. 

"Gngh—" Doma chokes from her grip on his neck. He grabs her hand, tugging her grasp off before he breathes in deep and hacks, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Whoa, whoa, cut me some slack, okay?!" he whines. "That girl demon blasted me away, and it made me maaaad! I took care of her, though! But now I feel all icky and sweaty and—I don't know. I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I've never been sweaty before, it feels gross!" His eyes droop as his back hunches, his shoulders feebly swinging from side to side.  

"Blasted you away? That's what that loud explosion was?! Goddamn. And yeah, holy shit, I’ve never seen you sweat before! Look at you!" she puts her one hand on her hip, looking him up and down while laughing.

“You need a serious bath.”

"Oi! Don't be cold to me, look at your hair and your clothes," he protests, reaching out his hand and carding it through her hair. "You've got cobwebs and dust all over!" 

Charli smacks his hand away. "Well, at least I don’t look like I just jumped into that nasty lagoon at your temple, dude.” 

Doma breathlessly chuckles and wheezes. "Okay, come on! It’s not that bad! Shut your mouth, you’re making me feel embarrassed about it!” 

"Look, the demon!!" she suddenly screams as she points toward the direction of the temple. 

Kamono had made his way up the steep hill with a somber look on his face. His fists clench tight as he cocks his head to the side. His haori and hair swish along in the flow of the breeze. 

"I'm finished playing silly games. A demon shouldn't commit such foolish acts. What is the true reason you are keeping a lowly human by your side? And why is the Master allowing it? I loathe this. A divine rank within the Upper Moons is being withheld by a dolt. A dolt that believes this is all some rash joke." 

Doma wasn't even paying attention to any of his words. His view stationed up at the sky for moments before his rainbow eyes meet with Kamono's green ones. 

"Would you look at that. It just turned midnight! That means I haven't seen you since yesterday!" with his lip curved to an amused beam, he points at Kamono. 

Kamono had nothing to say. His face looked genuinely baffled, yet disappointed as his arms remained at his sides, idly standing and practically having a staring contest with Doma. Charli had dashed more down the woods prior, not wanting to get lumped into a fight. She stops beside a tree, hiding herself behind it as she peered at the two demons in her far distance. Half of her feared if Doma could even oppose the demon with the condition he was currently in. 

"What is he doing?" she ponders to herself as she watches. 

Crickets and faint animal hollers in the distance accompany Doma and Kamono's silence for what felt like eons. The trees and bushes flowed in the wind, and it also made Kamono's ripped clothes flow as well, followed by his hair and Doma's. Finally, after what seemed like lightyears, Kamono speaks up, his tone flat and unamused. 

"Was that supposed to be funny?" 

"Yeah, yeah it was!" Doma exclaims instantly, lowering his hand and clenching both into fists, his eyes sparkling with pride. His smile was gone, yet his expression riddled with eagerness as his eyebrows were furrowed, like he was really hoping his joke was funny. 

"I'm not laughing," Kamono responds with his straight face and unimpressed demeanor staying put. 

"That's all right, it doesn't hurt my feelings!" Doma shouts with passion, his eyes only sparkling even more as his hands remained balled to tight fists. Silence strikes again, and the air between them began to alter to immense, heavy awkwardness, making Kamono feel visibly uncomfortable. He didn't take his displeased eyes off of Doma once the entire time, too. 

" . . . I'm going to walk away now," he says. He then walks alongside of Doma past him in a slow manner, and once he walks further behind him, he rams forward, beginning to run where Charli ran. 

As a quick reaction, Doma receives one of his fans from his pocket, and upon opening it, he waves it downward, making a small gust of icy, sparkly wind spread along the ground, completely freezing it like a frozen lake. With that, Kamono's boots slip on the ice, resulting in him plummeting down on his hind. 

"What the—?!" he grunts bitterly. He then attempts to get up, but it was utter useless. He only slipped and slid, either landing on his bum or on his stomach face first. 

"I think I'm definitely too weak to do any more of my major moves. I don't wanna overdo it, but never mind me using my powers. Demons fighting demons is pointless, anyways. I can kill this demon without the sunlight or a Nichirin," Doma thinks as he watches Kamono frustratingly struggle to get up. 

"So, your name's Kamono, right? And Inazuma calls you Mono?" he quizzically asks as he closes his fan, dropping it back in his pocket. 

"Why the hell does that matter?!" Kamono curses. He manages to stand to his feet, his balance wobbly, but as soon as he tries to take a step, his legs swivel, and he finds himself on his rear once again, only inducing him to more vexation. 

"Unfreeze this— this sickening ice! Do it now!" he orders with pestering veins popping around him. 

"Answer all my questions first, and then I just might," Doma beams, his expression rather wicked as his eyes narrowed. "Maybe we can become friends, I just wanna get to know a little about you. So, Inazuma calls you Mono?" 

"Yes!" Kamono hisses. Repeatedly, he carries on with trying to get up from Doma's icy, slippery misery. Though, his mind wasn't wholly focused on Doma, and it was more fixated on succeeding to get up without slipping. He couldn't care less about the questions he was going to ask, he just wanted the ice to be unfroze. 

"I see. Are you great allies with her?" he questions again as he watches him. His voice as usual was reposeful and soothing, yet anyone could tell he was fatigued just by hearing it. 

"Yes!" Kamono retorts again. 

"When did you two become demons?" 

"Seven years ago!" 

"Have you ever dreamt of becoming part of the Twelve Kizuki?" 

"Yes!" 

"What color's your eyes?" 

"Green!" 

"What's Master Muzan's last name?" 

"Kibutsuji!—" 

As Kamono was attempting to get up again, he stopped in his tracks, his face going expressionless, as if he had just witnessed a loved one die. His mind wasn't fixated on trying to get up anymore. His hand shoots up to his mouth, and he covers it tight, his eyes only going more wide in horror. He came into realization of what Doma just did. 

Doma lets out a mirthful chuckle as he walks past him, around the frozen ground. He whips his head back at him, giving him a provoking smirk; the corner of his coaxing eyes brimming with amuse. 

"Got you," he coos.  

"No . . ." Kamono utters, muffled into his hand. 

"Right . . . you'd be surprised over how much power you have over someone who isn't paying attention to your words. Tsk, tsk, tsk," Doma clicks his tongue along the roof of his mouth as he shakes his head. He then turns his head forward, running down the woods to Charli. 

"No—no, no, no!! This—is unfair!!!” Kamono cries out as he skids on the ice once again. 

"Forgive me! Lord, forgive me!!" he frenetically pleads, clasping both his hands together, screaming up into the sky. The white sclera of his eyes began to gradually alter to a deep, crimson blood red, along with the veins that spread across his face as the curse arises. 

Doma pants as he continues to run down the forest. 

"He's gonna bloww!" he yells out. 

Charli remained behind the one tree, messing around with her wrist, oblivious to all that happened. Her head perks as she hears Doma, and she turns around from behind the tree, watching him ram towards her. 

"What?—Woah!!" she flinches, holding up her hands as Doma charged toward her like a bull.

Swiftly, Doma grabs her good hand tight in his frigid grasp, pulling her with him. 

"You for sure do not wanna see that! Come on now, run! Don't look back!" 

"Wha—I—oh—okay!" she stammers as he unexpectedly tugs her with, and they both descend down the forest.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

A good five minutes of running was enough to entirely overdo Doma. From running, he slows down to jogging, and from jogging, he slows down to walking, and from walking, he slows down to standing still. His chest rises and falls, his breathing sharp as he wheezed in and out from his mouth that was gaped open just a few inches. Sweat streams down his cheeks to his chin, where it steadily drips off onto the ground. 

Charli was also panting, but not nearly as bad as Doma. She looks at him before letting go of his hand. 

"Are you all right?" she asks, her tone and look concerned. Doma didn't answer, as his view was pointed towards the ground, his eyes just half opened. 

"Doma?" Charli taps his bicep, and he jolts in the slightest, his eyes blinking a few times before he looks at her.

"Huh? Oh—yeah, I'm fine," he breathlessly says between gasps. "I'm fine. I just . . . I feel like I’m gonna—“ 

Before he could get his sentence out, his vivid rainbow eyes flutter shut, his soft voice trailing off as he falls over to the ground on his side unconscious. 

"WHAAA?!" Charli panics before she kneels down beside him, grabbing his bicep again and shaking him. 

"Doma? Doma?! Is he dead?? Wait—no, demons can't die unless they're exposed to sunlight, or get their heads chopped off by that sword, so. Is he— asleep?" her tone lowers as she peers at his face. 

She reaches her hand, gently brushing his hair out his face with her fingers, carding it behind his ear. His lucent face was as innocent and pure as a blissful angel, sleeping like a newborn baby. She's never seen him sleep before, that and he hasn't ever slept before as a demon. She couldn't help but smile over the sighting. 

With her finger, she traces along his sharp jawline delicately, his ravish skin smooth to the touch. 

"Thanks for coming back for me, cariño," she whispers, the look in her eyes tender and fond. 

She then stands to her feet, and with one hand, she slips her hoodie off carefully to not disturb her wrist. Kneeling down beside him again, she tucks her hoodie underneath his head to imitate a pillow. Now having on a short sleeve black shirt, goosebumps trail across her skin and her teeth chitter from the cold smacking against her skin, but she didn't mind. She wanted him to rest comfortably. 

She stands, hugging her arms to her chest as the wind blew through her long hair as her eyes lingered down at Doma, until a rustle in the bushes behind her prompts her to turn around quick. In her plain distance between the shrubs and undergrowth, the dog she saw in the vents stood there passive, its honey brown eyes observing Charli, its tail up and wagging from side to side. There was something about this dog that was mystifying. Its presence was out of the ordinary.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Charli crouches down, holding out her hand to the dog. 

"Hey, honey, c'mere. C'mere." 

She spoke with her voice hitch pitched, yet it maintained a low tone; the way everyone speaks to their pets or any animal they come across. The dog's head tilted to the side, its tail wagging like never before upon hearing Charli's voice. Its honeyed brown eyes were gentle and dancing with curiosity as it walked towards Charli in a cautious manner, its pointy ears rotated back. 

"Yeah, c'mere. What are you doing out here, hm? Or— should I say, what were you doing in those vents?" Charli asks, half expecting the dog to answer. She extends her hand out a little longer as the pup approached her. Its black wet nose wiggled and twitched as it sniffed her hand, its tail still going haywire. 

"Qué lindo. You're so cute— wait– lindo or linda?" she says as he leans her head to the side, looking underneath the dog. 

"Ohh, uh-huh. Yeah, I figured you were a boy. You saved me in there, lil' man. Can I pet you?" 

Charli leans back up, and she reaches her hand above his head, and as a reaction, the dog steps closer towards her, allowing her to pet him. Her hand delicately pats and strokes his fur and ears, and he stood idle with his eyes closing. 

"Damn, your fur is so soft, and—" she stops for a moment as she leans in taking a whiff of the fur on his head. "You smell so good— like– like cherries? Or blueberries, too. Yeah, you definitely belong to someone. Let's see what your name is." 

She lifts her hand from his head and reaches to the brown collar around his fluffy neck. Her eyes make visual of a silver circular shaped tag attached to the collar, although it was blank. With her thumb and pointer finger, she grips the bottom of the tag and flips it over. The perimeter of the tag remained silver, however within it, it was black, and right in the center was the number eight engraved in silver. 

"The number eight? What does that mean?" Charli quizzically perks her head to the side. 

The dog takes a few steps back, making Charli lose grip of the tag, and his hind legs bend in the slightest as his ears rotate forward, and he barks twice. His bark wasn't too soft, nor was it too deep or noisy. He resembled a mixed breed, as he was rather big with German Shepherd characteristics, yet his belly, legs, snout and underside of his neck and tail were white and fluffy. 

Charli's eyes widen upon him barking, and she smiles. "Eight? Is that your name? The number?" 

The dog barks again before he moves close, tapping his nose against her hand. He then walks backwards just a few feet before he lies down, licking his snout. Charli quickly whips her head back at Doma, who was still peacefully asleep on the ground, her orange hoodie as his pillow. His heavy breathing had subdued, and he was now serene as ever as he rested. 

Charli then looks back at the canine, her smile still remaining.

"You're gonna wake him up, shhhhh." She gestures her pointer finger to her mouth. 

Eight lets out a quiet whimper as he lowers down his head, resting it on both his paws, his warm, lovable eyes looking up at her in a guilty manner. She was left enthralled on how well he was understanding her.

"Can you understand me? Eight?" she asks as she lowers her finger from her mouth and places her hand against her chest. 

Eight gets up from the ground and he makes his way toward Charli, and he proceeds to lick her face, making her close her eyes and chuckle. 

"Pffffttt . . . you're so cute," she giggles, "your breath doesn't even smell either. Normally dog breath is so horrible— blegh, okay, that's enough," she laughs as she stands up, wiping off the slobber from her face on her palm. 

"Slobber is still gross, though." 

Eight's fluffy tail kept wagging, and his pink tongue hung out as he panted despite it being freezing out. His thick coat was most likely the reason the cold weather didn't trouble him. Charli folds her arms again as her teeth chitter, and she shivers. 

"Christ, it's so cold. I wanna take you back to your owner, though because I know you got one. Your tag doesn't say anything, though. Aren't tags supposed to have an address or something?" she says as she reaches her arm down to his tag again, flipping it around to both sides a few times. There was nothing, and just solely the number eight. 

"Damn. I don't know how I'ma get you home. Do you have a home? An owner? Where's your owner?" 

Eight barks again, and he turns around, trotting away. His poofy tail bounced as he walked, like a furry, fuzzy pom-pom. He walked a good twenty feet away from her before he stops, turning around and peeking back at her. His tail kept wagging, and the way his brown eyes were glimmering at her seemed like he wanted her to follow. However, Charli stood in her spot, her eyes staggered. 

"This— dog is something else. Crap, I forgot about Doma." She glances back at her sleeping friend. 

"I don't know if it'd be a good idea to leave him here all alone, but I think he'll be fine. I'm more scared about me. With my luck, I'll just encounter another demon," she says to both herself, and to Eight. 

Her eyes trail down to his hakama pants, and they narrow as she began to think. 

"But, maybe, just maybe . . ." 

She then treads close to him and kneels down, her hand reaching into his hakama pants pocket. She navigates within his pocket until she felt the cold plated metal of his fan and its soft tassel, and cautiously, she grips it, drawing it out from his pocket. The fan's heavy metal weighed down her wrist as she held it, and she grits her teeth as she gets up, prudently holding the weapon in a firm grasp. 

"Jesus—" she utters. "This shit is so big and heavy. Thing's nearly as long as my arm." 

Charli has never studied his fans up close. She could see her reflection in its burnished, glazed gold. The only time she remembered seeing them was already a year ago when she first met him when he showed her his "example". Doma certainly changed a lot compared to then. Instead of mimicking emotions and pretending to be someone he wasn't, he now was someone. 

His personality glistened bright like the sun, stars and the moon, as if they were all in the sky at the same time, and she loved him because of that. She gives him one last tender gaze before she turns around toward Eight. 

"All right, perro. If any dirtbags try to hurt me or you, I got Doma's big ass fan. However, I'm just gonna end up slicing myself into nine-hundred pieces the second I open it, so. Pray for me," she jokingly says as she makes her way toward the pooch. 

Eight's head perked to the side for a moment, and his tail stopped wagging. His eyes stayed locked on Charli walking towards him for seconds more before he barks, turning around and continuing to lead the way. He had such fashion in his movements, like he was a prize winning show dog. Charli followed the mysterious dog down the woods, keeping Doma's war fan tight in her grasp, as if it were a treasured possession. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Following the mystifying canine for just under fifteen minutes, Charli began to make out a small minka in the distance between dense forest trees. It almost looked to be deserted, having an abandoned and forgotten ambience, just like Doma's temple. Eight was way up front, already standing in front of the old minka, waiting for Charli. She was some yards away, holding Doma's fan tight in her hand. 

"Oh, God . . . now I'm scared," she murmur's to herself as she progressively approached the place in a slow manner. 

Suddenly, her mind immediately remembered what Doma had said to her when they first arrived at his temple. 

"Oh, really now? And I thought you liked creepy things, Star." His voice echoed around in her head.

Charli clenches his fan tighter, and she winces. "¡Cállate!" 

Eight sits down beside the minka's front sliding doors that were closed, and he looks at a struggling Charli in the distance. His head tilts as his tail begins to wag up and down, patting against the ground. 

"Okay . . ." she says within her mind to herself as she prepared. 

"Uhh— excuse me? I got your dog!" she calls out as she continues her way toward the house. 

"Hellooooooo? Anyone here?" 

The trees and bushes swaying in the wind's gust only made the atmosphere feel more eerie. Charli was one for sinister places, but she definitely didn't like to go to them lonesome. She'd stay overnight at a super haunted house, or even a hospital, but only if she had someone with her. Upon walking up to the minka's sliding doors beside Eight, she looks down at him. He was looking up at her, his tail still wagging as his tongue was hanging out, jovial as ever. 

"Perro, you seriously gonna make me go in here?" she asks him, tucking in her lips. 

He closed his mouth, and his tail stopped wagging, which lead Charli to chuckle as she shakes her head. 

"You're one weird perro, you know that? You're like a human." 

She then looks toward the wooden sliding door. She couldn't knock with her other hand because of her wrist, and she definitely couldn't knock while holding a razor sharp plated gold war fan that she could just barely carry. She improvises, and decides to place the fan between her legs, her thighs safely holding it securely. She then knocks three times.

"Yo, I have your dog here—sir. Or ma'am. Whatever you are." 

There was no answer from within the minka, and it stood entirely silent, except for the sound of nature accompanying the place's stillness. Charli left herself with no other choice, and she reaches her hand down to the door's pocket handle, gripping her fingers in and sliding the door open slowly. 

"Hello?" she calls out again. 

Her life practically gets sucked out of her as her eyes instantaneously greet a horrific scene against the minka's wooden wall in the distance. The body of a woman lied there at the wall dead, covered in her dark red, old blood with her neck tore apart. Her grey, dull eyes were still open as they peered up at the ceiling, some strands of her black hair stuck to her face. Flies and maggots horded around her body, all having the best feast of their short lives. 

Charli's eyes widen, and her heart plummets to her stomach as she gasps before quickly slamming the sliding door shut. The steady hold her legs had on Doma's fan loosens as she turns around, the fan falling to the ground and clinking. She holds her hand up to her face, closing her eyes as she lets out a long sigh, the sight of the woman's deceased body continuing to replay in her head over and over like a broken record. 

"Jesus— Eight," she utters in putrid disturbance. 

She certainly has seen dead bodies before of course, but it's been a while since she has. She was hoping she'd never have to see one ever again. Although, she was happy she couldn't smell it because smelling an old corpse was the one thing she genuinely didn't wanna experience. Eight whimpers as he gets up, getting close to Charli and leaning his head against her leg while gawking up at her, his ears turned back and his eyes glistened. 

"It's okay, it’s okay, it's not your fault," she gleams down at him as she caresses his head. 

"I'm just gonna take a wild guess a demon did that. I'm sorry. Same shit happened to my parents, but they deserved it." 

She leans down, picking up Doma's fan again before she walks further out, away from the minka with Eight following right behind her. She treads a safe distance away from the house of sorrow before she kneels down, putting the fan beside her and rubbing Eight's fluffy white chest, her fingers combing through his soft fur. 

"Guess you're mine now," she chuckles. "I'm sure Doma wouldn't mind, I think he likes animals. I remember a few months back, he was talking about parrots and how he wants to get one so he can teach it to say dumb stuff. He's such a buffoon, I love him." 

Eight does nothing but stare at Charli in the eyes as she talked, diligently observing her with his ears rotating different directions as he listened. For her, it felt like she was actually speaking to a person from the way he surveyed her; like if he really wanted to start speaking, he just would. 

"If you talk, I promise I won't tell anyone, not even Doma," she jokingly says with a divert beam. 

The sudden crack of a branch then sends both of their heads cocked to the left. Eight's ears rotate back as his teeth bare, a low threatening growl releasing from him, but upon seeing what caused the crack, his cute face averts back to normal with his ears up and about. Three doe were grazing in the distance, all the same size except for one that looked to be younger than the other two, as its white spots were still faintly visible along its back. 

Charli gasps as she grins, "Awwwwww, look at the deer. They're so cu— oh, my God, wait." Her eyes beam down at Doma's fan before she picks it back up, getting up from her knelt down position in a leisure manner to avoid making sudden movements. 

"I told him he should try eating deer and other animals," she whispers. Her eyes watched the three female deer, studying their behavior; their ears twitching and their stubby tails flickering. 

She's gone hunting with her father numerous times back then, and killed a boat load of deer, but that didn't stop her from feeling bad. Even if they were one of the most hunted and eaten animals, they still had feelings and a beating heart, but it was all part of life and had to be accepted. The one she cared for most wasn't in the greatest condition, and she wanted and needed to do something about it. 

Taking quiet, meek footsteps, she draws closer toward the three deer, slowly opening up Doma's fan. Its resplendent gold clicked as it opened, causing all the doe to snap their heads over at her. Their round, shiny black eyes locked onto her as their mouths chewed on grass. Charli froze. 

"Shit . . . uh—hello. I'm sorry, but I need to kill one of you," she says to the deer with a sheepish smile. 

The deer did nothing but continue to stare at Charli for another ten seconds at least before they all lowered their heads, beginning to graze around along the ground again. She takes a breath of relief and opens the fan more, but it was a bit of a hassle. 

"How the hell does he hold this? Never mind holding one, he holds two," she thought as she attempted to open the fan completely, but she couldn't. It was far too vast for her to hold, so she had to keep it opened halfway. 

Eight watched her brawl with the fan with his head tilted. He then peers over at the deer, his tail beginning to swing from side to side. 

"Don't— scare them away, Eight. Let me try to— do this," Charli utters, maintaining a better grip on the fan with her one hand that had a tremor to it. It'd be much easier to maneuver the fan with two hands, but of course, her popped wrist prevented that. 

After retaining a sturdy grip, Charli closes one eye as she aims the fan directly at one of the doe, one that looked to be the oldest; she didn't wanna kill one of the young ones. Her target was right beside the deer's shoulder and leg, where the heart and lungs were located. Her father taught her to always shoot a deer in the heart and lungs because it would make a swift, quick kill since those were the most vital organs of a deer. 

Of course, she didn't have a rifle this time, but Doma's fan was presumably even more lethal than one. Tilting her arm and hand back, she holds her breath for a second, then chucks the fan with all the force she had. As it soared toward the deer, it fully opened, spinning hastily like a shuriken. From how quick it was, the doe didn't see it coming. 

It pierced right through her, nearly poking out from the other side of her body.It killed her instantly, as she stumbled to the side onto the ground, while the two other doe scampered away together, spooked. 

"Fuck yeah!" Charli cheers and gives herself a mental pat on the back, and she makes her way toward the doe. 

Eight barks a few times as he also makes his way toward her. His black nose twitched as he sniffed all around the deer's lifeless body, even licking some of her bright red blood that traveled along the forest ground. Charli grasps Doma's fan firmly and pulls it out from the deer, causing blood to cascade out like a waterfall. She didn't mind seeing blood or gore from deers because she was so used to it already from all the years she's hunted with her father. 

Inspecting the fan, blood smeared across it, even seeping in between the carvings of lotuses that were etched into its fine gold. 

"Damn, this thing is scary." 

She then closes the fan as she kneels down, analyzing the damage it did to the doe. The gash was exceedingly deep, and if Charli were to pride it apart, she'd probably see the doe's organs, but she refrained from doing so. 

"All right, how am I gonna get this girl back to Doma? Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think of that. I don't think I can carry that fan and then drag her at the same time," she converses with herself as she thought. 

Upon hearing her, Eight trots near her and leans his head down to her hand that was still clasping Doma's fan. He bites down on the fan, pulling it out from her gasp, and he leans his head up as he takes a few steps backwards, holding the closed fan in his mouth as if it were a dog toy. He appeared to have no issues with holding it despite it being heavy.

Charli just simply watched him with her eyes going wide, her lips tucked in as her eyebrows raised. 

"Wow— okay, so you really do understand me like a human. I'm not gonna think too much into it because I'm just gonna end up losing my sanity, so let's just go," she says with amuse woven in her tone. 

She gets up, stepping next to the doe's head, and she reaches down, grabbing one of her ears tightly. She then begins to walk, pulling the doe as it dragged along the ground behind her, leaving a trail of smeared blood. Eight followed close beside her, keeping the fan in his mouth, and they both descended down the enchanted woods back to Doma.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬

Sshhhhrrrrrttt . . . shhrrrrrttttttt . . . 

The sound of the doe dragging across the ground echoed from tree to tree down the forest, leaving a solid trail of bright blood behind. Charli huffed and puffed, progressively slowing down more and more as she grew tired from dragging. Adult doe weren't the easiest to drag, as they could weigh up to one hundred fifty-five pounds, and adding onto that, the temperature just kept dropping. Big gusts of vapor exited her mouth every breath she took, the icy air freezing her lungs. 

Eight was way up ahead, trotting like a happy horse while still holding Doma's fan in his mouth. 

"Eight— wait—" Charli groans. "Hey, that rhymed," she utters before she lets go of the doe's ear and stumbles to the ground face-first worn out. 

"Owgghh . . . myhh boobsh," she groans muffled. 

Eight stops and looks back at Charli before tilting his head. He drops the fan and runs over to her, his pink tongue flopping around as his mouth was wide open. Upon getting close to her, his mouth closes and he sniffs her hair all over, even poking his slim wolf-like snout along the side of her face to flip her over. 

"I'm okay, Eight, I'm okay," she chuckles before she flips over on her back, hugging her arms to her chest.

"It's just so cold . . ." Her teeth chittered. Her skin practically felt like ice, and even began to numb.

 "And this doe is so heavy, Christ sake. It feels like it's abouta start—" 

Before Charli could get her sentence out, one singular snowflake flutters along down from the sky like a leaf, landing right on the tip of her nose. She crosses her eyes to get a better view of it, and they narrow. 

"Ay, dios . . ." 

The night sky that was once clear with only a few divine puffy blue clouds was now a dark grey with the mystical moonlight forgotten. Japan weather was bipolar one could say; it would be a warm sunny day that'd soon change to a raging thunderstorm, or a crystal clear magical night that'd change to a polar snowstorm, of course depending on what season it was. 

As more thick snowflakes make their way down, Eight pounces around like a fox, catching every snowflake he could in his mouth. He was a normal effortlessly adorable dog, although Charli found it strange how he could understand her like the way a person would. Charli wasn't one to believe that people reincarnated as animals after death, but she just might. However, there was a lot of speculation. 

If humans came back as animals, she'd figure all animals would have human-like aspects, understanding people with confounding intelligence. And the only animal she's met so far like that was springing around catching snowflakes in his mouth like a child. His sharp teeth would clack together whenever he'd catch one since he'd snap his jaws shut hard like a snapping turtle. 

Eight wasn't a human before. He was only a mere fragment of life that was awaiting to sprout just like all sentient species. He was solely a dog, but a particularly peculiar dog. 

Snow piles up along the forest ground, layering over it like a thin sheet of paper. Charli tucks her lips in, feeling them dry from the brisk air. She figured the snow would help make dragging the deer less of a hassle since fresh snow is soft and slippery-like, but it was remarkably cold. 

Old snow that hardens up was cold, too, don't get it wrong— but there was just something about fresh snow . . . it's like it can give you frostbite within seconds. 

Charli lifts herself from the ground, reaching for the doe's ear and continuing to drag it, and to her prediction, the doe slid across the ground much easier. Her, the doe, and Eight were covered in snow, like sprinkles on a cupcake. 

"¡Vámonos, Eight!" she calls. "We gotta keep moving. I don't want Doma to get— oh, actually I forgot. Cold weather doesn't even bother him, he's literally a polar bear. I was gonna say he could get sick, but now I should worry about myself getting sick," she utters through gritted teeth as she continues to drag. 

Eight leaps up one last time to catch more of the snowfall until he stops and watches Charli with his tail up and wagging. He shakes himself, his fur fluffing up as the snowflakes scattered on it fling off and he runs ahead, locating Doma's fan he dropped on the ground within the snow. The two continued their way down the forest, and even though the deer was much easier to drag, it was hard for her to see with the big, puffy snowflakes raining down like a blizzard. 

Best. Birthday. Ever. 

Charli wasn't upset that this is what her birthday turned out to be. It's definitely better than doing nothing just like her past birthdays. She wasn't the prissy type to throw a tantrum the moment she didn't get exactly what she wanted. Instead, she was thinking about how she'd celebrate Doma's made-up birthday, and how she'd want it to be the exact opposite of this turnout. Entirely perfect. 

Sometimes it was hard for her to express her love and affection to him since she never felt emotions like so for someone else; romantic love or not, it was difficult for her. But she was getting the hang of it day by day, and for now expressed her love by threatening or teasing him (which, that's frankly the best way to express love). 

And the same went for Doma. Of course, after being oblivious to feeling for almost two centuries, it was also new for him to express fondness. 

He'd do things that would annoy her out of habit, and really, he did them because he loved her, but didn't notice it. For instance, teasing and getting on her nerves, or randomly going upstairs to her room to mess it up after she had just cleaned it, or screaming her name from downstairs and not responding after she screams back. He did things like that all the time, but didn't know he did because he cherished her. 

The snowfall pouring down only stacked up higher and higher on the ground and on the dense tall trees, giving the forest a winter wonderland feel. Winter wonderlands were typically happy, but this one undoubtedly wasn't, as Charli's ears picked up the sound of a girl's aching sobs. Her head perks to the right, her eyes catching glimpse of someone sitting in the snow between the trees. 

Her eyes squinted, and they soon made out who it was. The demoness that Doma said he took care of, Inazuma. With her hair loose, lying in the snow on her shins, she was crying. Doma's lotus vines were still constricted around her waist and legs, and her torso was freed. Her hands were held up to her face as she kept wiping her tears. 

Charli bites her chapped lip, stopping in her tracks. The last thing she needed was to be chased by another demon while Doma's not around again, and making matters worst, he wouldn't be able to return back and protect her like he did when Kamono was after her since he was drifted to a tranquil sleep. She had stopped and stood still, yet Eight didn't notice and continued trotting up front. The further and further he drew away, the more Charli didn't wanna try to call out for him. She would not only alert him, but also the demon. 

Her arms, legs, face, hands and ears burned, everything did. All those places reddened as frostnip began to annihilate, which was the earliest stage of frostbite. She couldn't stay standing there forever, now wasn't the time, but she didn't even need to move to alert Inazuma. By chance, their eyes had met as she lifted her face from her palms to peer over at Charli. 

Her upper lip twitches at the sighting, and she whips her head back down, continuing to weep. Now Charli stood perplexed. Her heart had almost stopped beating when she made eye contact with her, and she was expecting her to leap like a mountain lion to attack. But she just kept wailing, and now Charli's interest was at its peak. 

"I don't mean to be one of those people, but— are you not gonna, like, kill me?" she spoke through her chittering teeth. 

"No," Inazuma crooned with a choked voice. "I can't. Your stupid friend tied me up in this— this— whatever this is! Vines?!" 

"He's not stupid. He was only protecting me. That's what friends do," Charli retorts. 

"He is stupid! He killed Mono, I know he did, I felt it! I don't know how, but he did. I managed to melt some of this ice vine with my powers, but then I got that feeling that Mono left, and now—" She stops as her body jolts and twitches twice with volts of electricity sparking around her. 

"Water and electricity don't go well together. Whenever I cry, my own powers go all . . . all wacko. It's like they go against me, and I can't use them the right way." 

Charli stayed put and listened, finding her demeanor engrossing. Her eyes darted up ahead, seeing Eight in the far distance. He had finally noticed that Charli wasn't following behind him, and he stopped, looking back at her. Her eyes then make their way back to Inazuma. 

She was enthralled, and didn't know demons could grieve for others since before, Doma had told her demons feel nothing for one another, and were destined to solely kill or be killed. 

It sucked her in at first, but now it spit her out, and she didn't agree with that statement, at least with this demon. Charli's numbed hand lets go of the doe's ear, making its head plummet to the snow. 

"Mono was the only one that didn't leave, no matter how many times I messed up. And now I'm going to get in trouble for letting emotions get the best of me," Inazuma continued. Snowflakes scattered around in her royal blue hair, some landing on her long glistened blue eyelashes, but they'd melt within seconds since they were moistened by her tears. 

Her yellow eyes shimmered, her blue pupils dilated.

Charli attentively observed her, and realized maybe demons weren't as they seemed. 

They were once people after all. In fact, they were people, and were just more advanced. They were lost souls. Charli's gaze on her eased. 

"She's so pretty," she says within her thoughts. 

Inazuma kept crying in her hand for moments more before she looked over at Charli again. 

"Why are you still standing there?" she falters with her blue eyebrows scrunching. 

"I was listening to you t—" 

"Just go away!" Inazuma cries. She drops her head back down and covers her face again. 

"But— you—" 

"GO AWAY!!" she cries louder, balling her hands to fists as she held them close to her face. Her body jolts again as her own Blood Demon Art shocks her a few times. 

Charli tucks in her lips as she looks up ahead at Eight, who was still there looking back at her while patiently waiting. She then gestures her hand to him. 

"¡Eight, ven aquí! Come here!" she calls out to him, her voice brittle and chittered. 

Mother Nature's snowfall had alleviated, and now teensy flurries eased their way down serenely. Eight turns around and he runs back to her keeping Doma's fan tight in his mouth, also leaving behind a long trail of his paw prints in the snow. 

He stops beside Charli before he sits down, gleaming up at her with his tail wagging up and down, patting the snow.

She grasps the fan from his mouth, holding it while feeling her hand weigh down again from its heavy mass. She then peers over at Inazuma again, clenching the fan tight with a firm glare. 

And before the demoness knew it, Charli was right behind her, knelt down in the snow and using the fan as a knife to cut through the ice vines that constricted around her. 

Inazuma slowly turns her head to look back at her, her eyebrows scrunching again. 

"What— are you doing? Get away from me!" 

"I'm cutting these vine thingy's," Charli answers. The frozen vines were quite tough, but Charli was managing to slice through them with a little force. 

"Why?" Inazuma pokes angrily. 

"Because," Charli shrugs. "That's what friends do." 

Inazuma stood silent, not knowing if she wanted to laugh or cry. Her emotions were at a halt, and she was struggling because demons were meant to be cold and austere. They weren't meant to feel emotion because He deemed emotions as weak, and a distraction. 

"My Blood Demon Art will shock you," she mutters. 

"It's fine, they're cutting quick," Charli says. 

The vine's hold around her torso loosened, causing the ones around her limbs to loosen, too. Quickly, Charli gets up and walks backwards maintaining a safe distance. 

"Okay, you're fre—" 

Before Charli could even finish, Inazuma hastily wriggled her way out of the vines and stood to her feet. Not waiting a millisecond, she bolts away, vanishing within the snowy forest instantly. As if she were never even there to begin with.

 Eight stood just some yards behind Charli with his head tilted, seeming puzzled. She turns around, tucking in her lips before her eyebrows raise. 

"Welp— that happened. Second demon that didn't try to kill me, we have a streak going," she jokes. 

She gives the fan back to Eight to carry, then makes her way to the doe, bending down to grasp her ear once more. 

It was the perfect time to continue descending to Doma since the flurries floating down grew less and less, to the point where it completely stopped snowing. 

"Come on, perro, we gotta keep moving," she announces, beginning to drag. He lets out a muffled bark, and he trots up front, leading the way back through the winter wonderland.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

A few hours flew by as Charli and Eight sat beside Doma, awaiting for him to wake up. 'Flew by' actually wasn't a good phrase to call it. To Charli it felt like decades, and she even fell asleep a few times, but only for less than thirty minutes each time. She kept herself warm by clinging close to Eight since his thick fur was equivalent to a warm blanket. 

She refused to take back her hoodie from underneath Doma's head, not only because she gave it to him as a pillow, but also because it was covered in snow. 

In fact, a thin sheet of snow was covering Doma as he slept, and it of course didn't seem to bother him at all. It was probably like a blanket to him, he loved the cold weather since there was clear correlation between it and him. 

Leaning against Eight embracing herself, Charli shut her eyes about to fall asleep again, but the sound of snow ruffling made them go wide. The large lump underneath the snow, which was Doma, began to rustle around and move, and eventually he sat up. The snow coating overtop of him scattered off as he sat up, and his prismatic eyes glimpse around his surroundings looking to be befuddled. 

"Ay dios mío, muchacho, I was wondering when you'd wake up. I thought you died," Charli says as she leans up from Eight, stretching her arms out following by a loud yawn. 

"Charli? What happened?" Doma murmurs as his eyes make their way to Charli's. 

"Is that a dog?—is that a dead deer?!!" 

His voice raises as he panics, and he scoots away from them before his back meets with a tree. Eight gets up, and he barks a few times before he makes his way over to him joyfully. He stops beside him, licking his cheek and along the side of his head close to his eye, making him close it. 

"Uhh . . ." his soft voice tremors. "This is concerning." 

Doma seemed to be hesitant at first, but as the amiable canine made more love to his face, it caused his lips to form a smile from ear-to-ear. He chuckles, reaching his arm up and rubbing his hand through the fur along his neck. 

"What's even happening? Who's dog is this?" 

"Ours," Charli's lip curves to a smirk. She gets up, hugging her arms to her chest as she shivered. 

"You passed out for a couple hours, and while you were asleep, he lead me to his home, and his owner is—" Charli gestures her hand across her neck as she cocks her head to the side. 

"—Dead. He's hella smart, too. He, like, understands anything I say like a person, it's pretty wild." 

"I passed out?" Doma's eyes go wide. Everything was too much for him to take in all at once.

Charli nods. "Yeah, you did. But also," She pauses as she looks at the dead doe behind her. 

"I killed that deer for you so you can try it. I got a feeling it might give you the same energy as human blood."

His sight makes its way to the lifeless doe behind her, the snow surrounding it colored red. His war fan lied just beside the doe, but he wasn't able to see it since it was sunken into the snow. His nose scrunches in disapproval with his eyebrows tilting upwards.

"Awhhh . . . Charli," he whimpers.

"What? Dude, I was freezing my ass off out there, and almost killed myself with your fan, like, four times. You better eat it or else I'll shove the whole thing down your esophagus, estúpido idiota," Charli stamps as she takes a few steps closer to him. 

"Waaaait, wait! It's just, I feel bad, is all! Animals are still living and breathing just like humans, I don't know if I can bring myself to ea— wait, my fan?" he questions with an eyebrow perking up. His one hand then makes its way off of Eight, and it navigates down to his hakama pants. Both his hands tap his pockets, and he felt one fan, but not the other. 

His eyebrows furrow, and he gives Charli the-angry-mom-look. 

"You used my fan to kill it, Charli? Don't you know how dangerous my fans are?" 

"No crap, that's why I freakin' used it. I took it to protect myself when Eight went to go show me where his home was, his name is Eight, also, like the number. And while I was over there, there were some deer, so yeah. Look, I just care about you, that's all." Her eyes roll as the breaks eye-contact with him. She decided to leave out her encounter with the demoness. 

Doma's bitter expression softened, and his head cocked to the side with his smile returning. He blinks. Twice. As if his eyes were fluttering from feeling flattered. Eight sat beside him, his long pink tongue hanging out as he panted, looking between the two. 

"Ohhhh, who knew you could be all mushy like that. Thanks, Star. I didn't mean to get cranky, I just feel so confused. I wake up from sleep? Which, to be honest with you, I don't feel that weird or weak anymore. I still feel a biiiit strange, but not as much as before, but— anyways, I fall asleep unexpectedly, wake up, then I see a dog and a dead deer," he snorts as he reaches his hand over to Eight, patting his head. 

"Ocho, right? That's the number eight in Spanish! So adorable! Very beautiful coat," he spoke his sweetened, silvery voice as he pet the pooch. Eight enjoyed it, as his tail went haywire, even his front paws stomping a few times; he really liked Doma so far. 

Charli chuckles, and she makes her way toward Doma, crouching down in front of him, resting her forearms on her thighs. 

"Can we keep him? He's so cute and smart. He kinda looks like a wolf, like, the way his ears and snout look." 

"Uh-huh, I'd be more than happy to keep him! I've always wanted a pet, especially a dog. Or a parrot, too! And to be honest, he may be a German Shepherd and Border Collie mix judging by his white undersides. It's so bizarre to see a dog like this, usually whenever we go to the villages, people have Shiba Inu's," Doma explains as he studied Eight. He also studied his collar, and the tag attached to it. 

Charli shook her head, and she blinked a few times. 

"The hell? Dude suddenly became a dog expert. You're such a nerd," she chuckles. 

"Stop it," he pokes out his bottom lip, pouting. "I told you before that I like to read sometimes, right? Well, I don't only read romance, I also read about animals, too. I find wildlife to be very intriguing," he says. He then leans his face close to Eight's, his beam big. Eight sniffs his face before he begins to lick him again, leaving slobber all over and making Doma laugh. The sighting was adorable. 

Charli's head tilts, and her eyebrows furrow as her smirk returns. 

"Do you read the other kind of romance?" 

"Hm? What do you mean?" he inquires as he leans his head back up, his multi-hued eyes back on hers. 

"Oh, please, you know what I mean," Charli scoffs. 

Doma remained confused, his head pondering what she meant by, "the other kind of romance." His eyes dart up to the grey night sky for a moment, and then that's when it hits him. That kind of romance. Instantly, blood rushes through his cheeks turning them a bright rosy red. Eight even barks, and he stands, shaking his body with his fur fluffing up.

" . . . I do, but—it's kind of a guilty pleasure," Doma gives her a sheepish, timid smile with both his shoulders raising. 

"Mm-hmm," Charli hums as she nods with her smirk staying put. 

"Yeah, I figured. I knew you weren't one-hundred percent innocent." 

"It's just interesting to me, all right?!" he whines as his eyes wince.

Now Charli understood why he wouldn't ever let her rummage around the closet in his bedroom. That's where he kept his non-innocent romance books. 

"Ay, dios. Relax," she snickers, "I had my fair share as well when I was younger. Now, are you gonna eat this deer?" she gets up and makes her way to the doe, dragging it closer to him. 

"Look, I felt the same way when I first went hunting with my dad. I hated killing deer, and I still do, but it's just part of life. People hunt deer all the time, and they get eaten by other animals all the time, too. Just try it at least." 

Doma grumbled. His emotions certainly changed him a lot. The thought of any living thing dying or being killed pained him, aching his sentimental heart. But the only living things he weren't soft for were demons. In fact, he despised them, especially ones that'd try to hurt Charli, which is why he showed hesitance in opposing Inazuma and Kamono. 

He was going to have to try to eat deer no matter what, he had to at least have some sort of nutrients in him. Doe were his best bet because just like women, they raised babies in their stomachs, and before he had changed, he primarily dined on women because that aspect was more nutritious. 

As he put more though into it, his eyes wandered to Charli's wrist. They narrow, and his head tilts. 

"Is your wrist broken?" 

Charli bites her lip, and her eyes trail down to her popped wrist. She nods. 

"Yeah. That guy demon chased me in—you know, actually, that reminds me. That whole stunt we did over that gap in your temple—the damn thing was, like, seven feet deep. I had to jump in it when he chased me, and there was a vent in there and I crawled through it and then it dropped and I landed on my wrist. That's also where I found Eight, he was sleeping in there." 

Doma's eyes widen as he takes everything in. His eyes glisten as they dwell with tears, and his lips tremble before he bursts out whining. 

"Charliiiiii, I'm so sorry I couldn't give you a better birthday! So much happened, and you got hurt and almost were killed! I promise you next year will be so much better, I cross my heart and hope to die!" 

"What?! Are you insane?! That was the best birthday I've EVER HAD!"  she emphasizes as she stands up and extends her arms out. 

"Eh?" he immediately stopped whining as his eyes shot open. His emotions certainly changed so quickly. He smiles big, showing his sharp pearly whites as his fluorescent eyes sparkle bright.   

"Oh, was it really?!" He clenches his fists tight. 

"Of course! That was so cool!! Better than my other birthdays where I literally did nothing. Now I just have to worry about my wrist, but I think it'll be fine. I remember one of my dumb old friends from back then told me broken bones can sometimes heal on their own," she says as she looks down at her wrist. 

"Yeah, depending on the type of fracture. I can see the bone sticking out a bit, that won't heal the right way. Give, I can crack it back in place," he holds out his hand, gesturing his fingers. 

"Ay, pendejo," Charli fusses, grabbing her wrist and taking a step back. "I'd rather just go to a doctor, then . . . actually, no. I'm too antisocial for that." 

"Yeah, exactly!" He wheezes like a tea kettle. "But I just so happen to be better than a doctor. That type of fracture can heal on its own without the proper care if it's popped back into place. I can save you a trip to the scary doctor! Just gimme, please." He gestures out his hand again. 

"I promise I'll be gentle." 

Charli's lips purse. "What makes you better than a doctor?" 

"Mm, I don't know, maybe the fact that I'm a demon?" he chuckles. "Unfortunately, I am experienced with this stuff because—well—I think it's obvious. I don't like talking about it a lot. But I just know about bones and such. Give." 

Charli falters at first, but then she decides to give in, and she reaches her hand out, placing it into his frigid hand. His grasp was as cold as ice, but then his heart warm as the sun. His fingers grasp around her wrist delicately, and he rubs his thumb in circular motions around the exact area of the fracture. 

"I won't sugar coat anything, it's probably gonna hurt a lot, but you're a tough cookie." 

"I'm more worried about your nails. Please don't scratch or stab me," she says with a hint of amuse, her eyes lingering over his bluish purple long nails. Eight looked invested, as his ears were pointed back, and his honey eyes were locked onto Charli's wrist that Doma held, staying as silent as a butterfly. 

"I won't!" he sticks out his tongue teasingly. "Should I do a countdown? From maybe five, or three? Or ten?" 

"Just do it before I smack you into next week with my chancla." She shuts her eyes tight, tucking in her lips. 

Doma didn't like the sound of that. In an instant, his fingers get into the correct position, and with just one hand, he cracks her wrist back into place. Quickly, Charli snatches back her hand and she turns around, walking away as she bites her lip hard, enduring the pain without making a single sound, not even a peep. Eight pounces up before he barks a bunch, and he runs over to her making sure she was okay. 

"Please, please, no chancla! Not the chancla!" Doma pleads as he raises both his knees to his chest and covers his face with his hands.

Charli swiftly whips around, and she makes her way back toward him in her firm manner. She stops in front of him, and her hand points behind her at the dead doe. 

"Go eat that right now." 

"No puedes obligarme," Doma says in a blithe, playful manner, his voice muffled as his hands kept his face sealed. 

"¿Oh, sí, sí? You think so? C'mere." She reaches and grabs the front portion of his hair that draped between his eyes, and pulls him up from against the tree while laughing. 

"Ahhh!! Chaarliiii!" he wheezes, his hands uncovering his face as she pulled him. Eight ran in circles around the two as he barked, his tail wagging so fast, it could just about fling off. 

"Eat it!" 

"No!" 

"YES!!" 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

In the far distance, a man and woman watched the demon, the girl, and dog merrily have fun. The woman kept her hand to her mouth, her pink and green hair that was tied into three thick braids softly gushing through the winter wind, her cheeks tinged a strawberry pinkish red. Her pale green eyes and long feathery eyelashes glistened as she watched. 

"Shinazugawa," she spoke, her voice tender and demure. "Should we tell the Master? They look cute together!" 

"Yes. We should," the man responds. His demeanor was the complete opposite. His face was firm and livid, and it matched his stony tone. The grasp he had on the sword's handle that was in its sheathe alongside him was relentless. 

"They don't look cute, get that out of your head. That is a Twelve Kizuki, I can see the numbers on its eyes. Those repulsive demons. They always find a way, even if it's through manipulation. I can see it." His face averts to a crazed smile. 

"Manipulation? Oh, no!" the girl exclaims with her jovial voice. "I think he looks friendly! But yeah, let's go tell the Master since we're done with our mission!"

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘

★──────★──────★

𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨, 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Daytime had returned once again, although the sun was no where to be found as dark grey melancholic clouds still cluttered the sky, however they weren't snow clouds. Thunder rumbled within them, and lightning caused nearly the entire sky to lighten up in a flash. Rain was ready to show itself just a few hours after the snow. The weather was indeed bipolar. 

But bipolar or not, it didn't stop them from doing their jobs. 

The swordsman and swordswoman had arrived back to the headquarters of the Demon Slayer Corps. A thin blanket of snow lied over top of the silver gravel and all around the garden of the headquarters mansion. The gravel beneath the snow crunched every step the man and woman would take. He looked fierce, and on the other hand, she looked jovial and excited as ever. 

Her fists clenched, her cheeks still painted a bright cherry red, and her green eyes twinkling with optimism. She's never looked so excited to return back to headquarters, and he's never looked so resentful. 

"Master Ubuyashiki!" she calls out eagerly. "We're reporting back with suspicious activity we encountered while on our mission!" 

Both her and the man bow in deepest respect and esteem before they kneel down just in front of the mansion's engawa. His pale purple eyes trail up, and his angered demeanor instantly lifted, his voice civil and courteous. 

"We didn't encounter it face-to-face. We saw it from afar after we completed our mission. It was a Twelve Kizuki with a girl who looked to be around our age, but—" 

"But he looked sweet and kind!" the girl cuts him off. She was too excited. 

"He showed no sign of trying to harm her at all! And it seemed she was trying to get him to eat a deer! This gets my hopes up!" She clasps her hands together. 

"They looked so cute!" 

The swordsman didn't look impressed. Not in the slightest. His eyes narrow, and he gives her a dirty look, but she wasn't paying any attention to him at all. 

"Does she think everything is cute?" he says to himself in his head. 

"Sanemi, Mitsuri." Ubuyashiki nods. "I'm glad to know you both have returned." 

Standing near the edge of the engawa, he looked down at both Demon Slayers. Two of his children grasped both his hands on either side. 

"And is this so? What rank was the demon?" 

"It was an Upper Two, Master. It was tall and muscular. As a counter argument for what Kanroji said, I believe that girl is being manipulated by it. It's a demon, and that's what they are known for. Especially if it's a Twelve Kizuki," Sanemi says. 

"But—! I have never heard of or seen a demon try to manipulate someone like that! If he really wanted to kill her, he would have already! It's like the situation between Kamado and Nezuko! If Nezuko really wanted to bite Shinazugawa, she would have!" Mitsuri exclaims in her light voice, looking between Ubuyashiki and Sanemi. 

"I don't want to remember that time," Sanemi scowls as veins form around his forehead. He lowers his head as he remembers the whole altercation and being head-butted. 

"And the girl was trying to get him to eat a deer, too," Mitsuri continues. "That gets me thinking he doesn't wanna eat humans anymore! Why else would she have him eat that?" 

Ubuyashiki remained silent. This was certainly a first. Within the gushing breeze, his jet black hair flows. More thunder rumbles from up above, and soft raindrops sprinkle down onto the pure white snow that overlayed around the headquarters. 

An earnest smile spreads across his face as he tilts his head toward the sky. 

"You have a point, Mitsuri. But if the demon was a Twelve Kizuki, I fear they are more capable and willing to manipulate a human, no matter what kind of manipulation it is. Any young girl would be gullible, and an easy target. Did the demon show any sign of weakness?" 

"I think he did!" Mitsuri beams. "Which—" 

"Which that means it would be an easy kill," Sanemi cuts off Mitsuri. He then gives her a provoking, petty glare, and it only makes her huff and furrow her eyebrows.  

"Yeah, but it also means he most likely hasn't eaten humans in a while!" Mitsuri proclaims. They were identical to siblings bickering. 

"For that girl's safety, I will send both of you to that same area tonight in search for her," Ubuyashiki chimes, getting both Hashira's attention. 

"I'm enlightened that the demon may have not attacked any humans in a certain period of time, but that is only speculation. We don't know for sure if those assumptions are true, Mitsuri, since they are only theories as of now." 

"You're right, Master. Understood!" the convivial girl bows her head down. 

"Understood," the grim man also bows his head down. 

"For now, you both are dismissed. Excellent job on your mission tonight," the Master of the mansion gives the two an earnest smile. 

"Thank you, Master." 

"Thank you, Master Ubuyashiki!"

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"Doma, DOMA!!" Charli yells. "This dog is hopeless, he won't eat anything! You're the animal expert, why won't he eat anything?!" 

The two had returned back home with their new furry friend, and Charli was having a hassle with him. While Doma was busy taking a shower, she was trying to feed him, but he refused to eat all of the food she'd offer. Sitting crouched in front of Eight, she was just about ready to pull out her hair. 

On a porcelain plate that had gold lotus flower accents along the rim, there were different foods ranging from onigiri to chopped up watermelon, boiled eggs, rice crackers, anpan, and melonpan. 

Eight sat in front of the plate just across from Charli, uninterested in all the food displayed before him with his pink tongue hanging out and his tail swinging. 

Doma walks down the hallway from his bathroom with his hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing his black and red kimono that had the same dripping design as his turtleneck. Misty steam follows right behind him from the bathroom, and the whole living room fills with a rich coconut scent. He was squeaky clean. And a real dreamboat. 

Charli's nose fills up with the appealing scent, and she turns her head back. 

"Someone finally smells good. You take such long showers. What do you do in there, count your culo hairs?"

Doma stops just behind her, and she looks up at him. His eyebrows scrunch as he shakes his head, letting out a stifled chuckle. 

"Charli— that's disgusting. But yeah, I actually do, how'd you know?" he blithely jokes. 

He then whips his head around, viewing the shower steam that lingered around.

"But— as you can see, I like hot water," he snickers. 

His head turns back forward and he treads beside Charli toward his bean bag, plopping down on it and sitting with his knees bent and legs to one side. 

"I take longer when I wash my hair. It's so time consuming since it's long and thick. But other than that, the majority of the time I'm in the shower, I'm just standing there with my eyes closed because hot water feels nice." As he reaches his arm toward the nightstand beside his bean bag, he chuckles. He opens the first drawer and retrieves a black comb, and with his other hand, he undoes his ponytail, making his damp hair smack against his back. 

He then brings it over his shoulder, having it drape down his chest. The tips were still soaked as water drips from them onto his kimono, leaving dark spots in the fabric. He then combs through each individual layer of his hair gently, detangling and arranging. 

"Now, what's going on with Ocho?" 

"He's not eating anything, or drinking. I put some water in a bowl not so long ago, and he literally made the bowl tip over with his paw, and I had to clean all the water up. And look," Charli gestures her hand out to the plate of different foods. 

"He won't eat anything!"

Eight looked carefree as he glanced over at Doma, his tail waving from side to side like a wind-up toy. With a jaunty smile, Doma winks at him as he continued to comb through his hair. 

"Well, maybe he's not hungry or thirsty. Dogs'll eat pretty much everything you give them, but it also depends on the breed." 

"How could he not be hungry? God only knows how long he hasn't eaten. I mean, he doesn't look skinny, and he for some reason still smells like literal cherries. That is so weird. I was gonna give him a bath, but I don't even think he needs one," she says as she picks up the plate and brings it back over to the kitchen. 

"I'd still give him one. I'm a bit antsy about fleas and ticks," Doma shivers in clear discomfort as he begins to comb through his top hair along the black and red stain. 

Eight whimpers, and his ears fall flat. He lowers his head with his tail curling around his legs, offended. 

"No, no, buddy! I'm not saying that you do have them, it's just a precaution." Doma waves one hand as he reassures the sad canine while his other hand was busy combing. 

"Don't listen to him, Eight. He's lying," Charli teases as she returns from the kitchen. 

"Oh, shut up, Charli. How's your wrist feeling?" 

She shrugs, holding up her hand as she examines it. "The same, I guess. Both my hands still hurt like hell because of the cold. My whole body does, and my throat. It feels like I'ma get a cold." 

"Yeah, I told you on the way here that you have frostnip. Warm water will help it, so when you take a bath, make sure the water isn't too hot. Hot water can burn it real bad, it needs to be warm. And just soak there for, like, thirty minutes. Then you'll be okey-dokey!" Doma explains with mirth as he finishes up combing his hair. 

He tosses the comb back into the drawer and closes it. He then kicks his legs forward off the bean bag before he stands up, stretching his arms out. 

"Mmmmmmhh, alrighty," he hums as he stretches. "I'm going to lay down in my room, so if you need me, I'll be there. That deer gave me some energy, but I'm starting to feel it go away kinda. I'm feeling that strange sensation I felt before I passed out." 

"That "strange sensation" is called "drowsiness". So, yeah, try to sleep. Just lay down and close your eyes, and you'll just feel yourself doze off. I'ma be upstairs taking a bath with Eight. ¡Vamos, perrito!" Charli claps her hands a few times as she makes her way down the hallway through the dissipating shower steam. 

Eight barks as he gets up and trots down the hallway behind her with his poofy long tail swaying behind him, the nails of his paws clicking along the wooden floor. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

After an hour passes, Charli creeps up toward Doma's closed room door, her hand reaching for the gold knob. She twists it, priding it open a few inches before she peeks in. 

Doma was lying down on his bed, and with a book in his hands, he was quietly reading. The candles on his dresser were lit, and both lanterns that were on either side of his bed's headboard were shimmering, granting him light. He still had on his kimono.

His eyes trail off from his book to his door where he saw her peeking in, and he smiles. 

"Oh, what's up?" 

"You look kind of lonely," she says. From just behind her, Eight also peeked in. His fur was still a bit damped from the bath, and Charli's hair was as well. 

"Eh," Doma shrugs. "I'm just reading. I tried to sleep, but I couldn't, so. But I guess I am lonely." 

"Welp, let me fix that," she says as she opens the door further before walking in. Eight follows, and he immediately begins to sniff around his room curiously, his black nose twitching as it lead him around all the furniture and between each corner. 

Charli crawls onto his bed, feeling the soft silky red sheets against her palms. She lies down next to him, getting herself comfy. 

"I can't sleep either. I keep thinking about that— scumbag that chased me in those vents. That seriously scared the hell out of me, I thought I was gonna die." 

Doma stood quiet for a moment, his expression softening as he began to feel bad that he wasn't there to help her. He was aware it wasn't his fault, but he continued to feel remorse. He sighs. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I tried to go after him, but that's when the girl demon blasted me." 

"No, it's fine. I'm not blaming you, I'm just, like, freaked out still. What are you reading?" She edges her head closer to his to the point where her cheek presses against his as she peers at his book. 

Doma closes the book on his thumb to save his page as he shows her the cover. 

It displayed the upper half of an ominous girl dressed in ragged clothes with dark hair holding a chamberstick with a lit candle. The title was at the very top presented in fancy cursive. 

"It's called Bedeviled Scarlett," Doma says. "It's basically about this girl who gets kidnapped by this cynical organization that kidnaps all kinds of people, even kids, and puts them all in this creepy facility where they have to work as a team to escape. There's clues on how to escape all over it, but it's just really hard to figure them out. Some of the people in there start losing their sanity, and they end up taking their own lives, or take someone else's. The main character is of course the smartest; she’s discovered a lot of evil things about the organization and figured out a lot of clues.” 

Charli's brows shoot up. "Damn. That sounds pretty cool, but isn't that, like—dark? I didn't know you liked to read stuff like that. You seem too soft for those kinds of things." 

Doma chuckles heartily. "Too soft? This is the second “dark” novel I’m reading, and honestly, they aren’t too bad. Not exactly my preferred genre, but I think I enjoy them.” 

“Thriller and horror stories are pretty awesome; I’ve read a few as well a while ago. Let me read it once you finish it, it sounds interesting." She cuddles up close to him. 

"You don't mind if I sleep here with you, right?" 

Doma sucks his teeth. "Star, why would I mind? If you're gonna go to sleep, then I will try to as well." He then opens the book back up, looking between both pages to make a mental note of where he left off. His memory was outstanding, so it wasn't difficult for him to find where he left off whenever he read without a bookmark. He then closes it and sets it on the nightstand beside his bed before reaching up, pressing a toggle switch below the lantern on his side that shuts both lights off, darkening his bedroom. 

The only source of light remaining were the vanilla scented candles on his dresser. 

"But wait, you can continue reading? Don't stop just because I'm gonna try to sleep. Continue." She encourages as she gestures out a hand.

"Mm-mm," Doma hums as he shook his head. He then gets back in his comfy spot snuggled up beside her. 

"I'm starting to feel that—drowsiness again, so I'm gonna try to sleep, too." 

Eight leaps up onto his bed, sniffing around the silky sheets, and starts to spin around in a circle a bunch of times before he finally lies down curled up into a ball, exactly like the way Charli found him in the abandoned temple's air duct. 

"Oh, yippie! Ocho is here, too!" Doma says gleefully with a big beam that showed his sharp teeth. 

Charli smiles as she sits up a bit, reaching her hand out and petting the fur along his back that was still damped. She then leans back, wriggling back into her spot, and as soon as she does, Doma turns over to his side with his back facing her. 

"I'm gonna try to sleep like this 'cause it feels more com—" Before he could finish, Charli also turns to the same side, and she wraps both her arms around him, pulling him close, spooning him. She buries her face into his soft hair that had the same coconut scent that filled the living room when he first came out of the bathroom.

She said nothing, and only closed her eyes, while Doma's cheeks were burning up, as red as chili peppers. A sultry smirk forms on his lips, and his eyes flutter shut. 

"I could get used to this," he jokes in his serene voice. 

Charli hums inaudibly as her arms tighten around him, his kimono's linen fabric brushing against her hands. She was already feeling her eyes sore and heavy as she grew more weary. By herself, she found it hard to sleep, but now that she was with Doma, she immediately started to doze. The hard rain from outside plummeted along the house's roof, creating a relaxing sound. 

Even Doma's gentle breathing was soothing. Her arms that were around him would rise and fall leniently every breath he took. Eight was still wide awake, however; his honey eyes kept darting around the room as his head lied on his paws, but he didn't blink once. In fact, he hasn't blinked ever since he approached Charli in the woods. 

Ten minutes go by, and Charli was already half asleep. The reposeful aura that the atmosphere withheld was enough to make her drift to sleep fast like a baby. 

On the contrary, Doma's alluring rainbow eyes were halfway opened as he was still awake. His sight was focused on nothing particular, his expression gentle. In fact, he looked sad. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Only five hours later, Charli awakens, and her embrace felt markedly empty. Her senses came together as her blurry vision cleared, and she right away figures out why. Doma was gone. His side of the bed was vacant, and Eight was gone, too. The sound of the rain hitting the roof was still heard, along with faint rumbling thunder. 

Sluggishly, Charli scoots herself toward the edge of the bed, sliding off it. She makes her way toward the door, entering the hallway. The hallway was dark, and rather gloomy, along with the rest of the house as no lights were on. The only source of light was coming from the living room. Charli turns her head, peering down the hallway, and her eyes instantly grab hold of Doma sitting in front of the window with his legs off to the side, his arms folded on top of the windowsill. 

Eight was lying up against his legs, his head resting on top of Doma's thigh. The ravish red curtains were opened, letting in natural light since the sun was still asleep, allowing the raging, thundering rainclouds to clutter the sky. Doma watched the rain bathe the forest surrounding his house, only he looked downcast. 

His eyebrows were tilted upwards, and his eyelashes were moistened; in fact, his cheeks were shiny, like they were wet. 

Charli took notice of it, even though her eyesight was horrendous. She perceived Doma wasn't carrying the usual smile he regularly had, and the usual buoyant vibe. She rubs both her eyes with her fists as she makes her way down the dark hallway toward him. 

With the corner of his eye, he sees Charli starting toward him, and quickly, he lifts his head and arms from the windowsill, wiping his eyes and cheeks with his kimono sleeve.

"Oh— hey, Star. How'd you sleep?" he inquires after wiping his face off. Attempting to wipe his tears clean didn't do much, for his long eyelashes remained soaked. 

Charli entirely ignored his question. She stops walking close beside him. Eight lifts his head from Doma's thigh, his eyes making their way up to hers as his tail began to wag, slapping against the floor eagerly. 

She folds her arms, her head tilting to the side. 

"What's wrong?" she asks. 

"Huh?" His eyebrows raise as his eyes widen, trying his best to appear bewildered. 

"Ay, dios, Doma.” Charli rolls her eyes. "Stop acting like you weren't just crying. I noticed from, like, two miles away. What's the matter? Does the rain make you sad or something?" 

She gawks out the window, gazing at the grey sky that showered down rain. Bright lightning would travel across the clouds, and loud thunder would follow afterwards. 

Doma's muddled expression disappears, and he turns his head toward the window. His hand navigates down to Eight, and he pets along his fur gently. 

"No, it's not the rain, Charli. I actually like the rain a lot. It lets me look at the sky and the woods without worrying about the sun. I guess the reason I feel this way is because human emotions." 

His voice carried no sentiment, and neither did his eyes. 

Charli feels her chest get cold. Her eyes dart back at him, and she tucks in her lips as she takes a seat beside him, criss-crossing her legs. 

"Doma, what's wrong?" Her voice was stern, yet it carried concern. 

He shrugs. "I don't know how to answer that to be honest with you. You know, all the things I get called by other demons and stuff— it gets to me. And the fact that by buddies and Master don't like me. My Master really doesn't like me," he chuckles. 

"Nobody likes me because of, y'know, the way I was before I felt emotion, but I didn't care back then since I didn't feel a thing." 

Charli's eyebrows furrow as she rests her elbow on the windowsill, holding up her head in her palm as she listened. 

"But now that I feel things, it's all just— I don't know, it just feels like someone's stabbing my chest. And the fact that when I was human, I was just used as a tool, and nobody cared about me. I know I told you that all means nothing to me when we were at my temple, but it actually does. It means a lot. I just don't know how to express it." He shrugs again before sniffling. 

"And I killed so many people. Lots. Lots." 

"Are you serious?" Charli sucks her teeth as she lifts her elbow from the windowsill, putting her hand on her hip. 

"Uh—" Doma stammers as he makes eye contact with her again. "Yeah . . . I am." 

"You know, someone once told me to forget about my old amigos, and I'm gonna say that same thing to the same someone who told me that. Are you seriously letting them ruin your mood? Fuck them. Fuck them all, and your "Master", too," Charli says firmly. 

Doma's eyes widen upon hearing her, but he wasn't wholly surprised. Charli had a durable attitude, and that was his favorite thing about her. 

"Why would you bow your head down to someone who doesn't even like you? Screw that scum." Charli sneers. 

"Charli . . ." Doma begins to chuckle as a smile creeps up at the corner of his lip. 

"He has a reason to not like me, and he did before I felt emotion, too. I disobeyed him, and I still am disobeying him." 

"So?" Charli tilts her head as her eyebrow raises. "You're free to do whatever you please, who cares? You don't belong to anyone. It doesn't matter if he created you or whatever because he doesn't own you. You don't like the fact that you were treated like a tool back then, well he's treating you like a tool, too." 

Doma remains hushed, her words gradually making sense to him. 

"You have your own free will. Don't let absolutely anybody control you like the way your stupid parents did. And don't pay mind to anyone who says crap about you because they don't know you like the way I do. You're so badass, and you're a superhero." She lifts her hand from her hip and pokes his chest. 

Doma looks down at where she poked him, his smile remaining. 

"But I'm a villain to most." 

"You're my superhero. I literally would have died, like, four times without you. It doesn't matter if you're a villain to most, what matters is you're a superhero to me, the one who actually cares about you and knows you," she says as she reaches her hand, placing it at his chin. She then gently lifts his head, making his gaze meet hers again. 

"And when you feel that way, don't be afraid to tell me. I'm always here for you, that's what friends are for. Hiding feelings like that is really bad, trust me, I went through that shit for years. You were there for me at my darkest times back then when we first met, so I'ma be there for you. C’mere,” Charli brings him into a tight, earnest hug, patting his back. 

Doma returns the cherishing hug, his embrace secure and authentically intimate. He rests his chin on her shoulder, and she could hear his mild breaths right in her ear. 

“Thanks, Charli,” he utters reposefully in her ear. “You’re such a sweetheart. My sweetheart.” 

Charli feels her face grow hot. She was unsure of what it was exactly from, but hearing him call her his sweetheart made something inside her snap. She closes her eyes, burying her face into his fluffy hair before tightening her grasp around him. 

“Yeah, I better be.” She hides the peculiar feeling behind a teasing joke. 

Eight had sat up a while ago, and he was watching the two share their profound hug inquisitively. His tail kept wagging, and if he were human, he’d probably have a smirk on his face. 

Charli then gingerly releases Doma from her clasp, and she stands up, bringing him with. 

“Come on, we should go outside. It’ll help you feel better a lot,” she suggests, smacking his arm before turning around toward the hallway. Eight liked the idea. He barks a few times before spinning around, and even leaping up onto Doma, his paws placed on his stomach with his tongue hung out the side of his mouth. 

Doma chuckles, rubbing the sides of Eight’s head, ruffling up his fur. 

“Heyyy, what’s up, Ocho! You wanna go outside? Uh-huh? But—” Doma turns his head toward the window, seeing it was still pouring cats and dogs. 

“It’s still raining outside, Star.” 

“So what?” Charli spins around, shrugging. “Let’s go dance in the rain.” 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄

★──────★──────★

𝐘𝐨𝐮 & 𝐌𝐞, 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

"Charli, you need to rest!" Doma exclaims, gesturing out his hands. 

"You need to stay warm for a while to get your body temperature up or you'll—" 

"Oh, cállate la boca. Stop being a mom for, like, thirty seconds. I care more about making you feel better than me resting, so go. Get changed, we're going out." Charli sneaks behind him, winding up her hand and slapping his butt. 

"Yah!!" He jolts and quickly spins around, grabbing his hind with both hands.

"Yo! My booty's gonna be naturally red 'cause of how many times you've slapped it!" 

"Who's to say it already isn't?" Charli smirks, folding her arms. 

"Take off your kimono, let me see." 

"Eh—" Doma's eyes widen, and he shakes his head a few times, wrapping his mind around what he just heard. He then wheezes, raising his eyebrows, and he grasps his kimono's tan haneri, pulling both close together. 

"Wow, Charli . . . at least buy me dinner first." 

"Dude, I mean, I kinda did. The deer?" she wittily says, shrugging her shoulders.

"Mmh." Doma hums, rolling his eyes and turning his head away.

"Touché. Regardless, my butt is still classified."

"I think you forgot early summer when we first went to the hot springs and I sa—" 

"BLAAAAHHH!!" Doma yells, cutting her off. 

"I don't count that, I didn't intend for that to happen! My towel just slipped off out of no where!" 

"Yeah, yeah, okay. C'mon, are we gonna go outside or what? Also, like— wait," Charli falters, looking down at her wrist. 

"Before we go, look at my wrist. It's bruising and it feels a lot more sore, look. See how it's, like, black and blue?" 

Doma leans his head down, and he squints his eyes, examining the bruised area on her wrist. 

"Mmmhm. I see, I see. That's no bueno. But it's also no biggie, either! All's you need to do is apply some ice to it, and also wrap it up, too. But—" He glances over at the window, viewing the rainfall. Raindrops speckled across the window, some streaming down, connecting with other raindrops. 

"My bad for being a "mom" again, but you can't go out in the rain with that wrapped up, it's gonna defeat the whole purpose of—" 

"It's fine, I'm gonna wear my raincoat. No rain is gonna seep through it, I swear. Do you have something I can wrap it up with? Like bandages?" 

"Maybeee, let me go check in my room." Doma's voice trails away as he disappears down the hallway and into his bedroom. Charli remains there at her spot, and when pivoting her head to the left, she sees Eight comfortably lying on Doma's bean bag, patiently waiting to go outside. 

"You better be careful on that thing. He's gonna pick you up and throw you off of it just like he did to me, like, twice," she says jokingly. 

Eight reacts by letting out a subtle grumble, and he flips himself over, now lying on his back with his fluffy stomach exposed. His head hangs off the side of the purple ball of cushion, his mouth partially opened with his tongue out. She chuckles, finding the sighting adorable and yet amusing.

"You're so cute."

"Charli, I don't think I have any bandages, but the light bulb in my head just turned on, and it's shining super-duper bright. I think my brain is gonna explode, I feel myself slowly hyperventilating," Doma chimes as he returns back from his room. 

"What?" Charli snickers, amused. 

There's times where Doma says the most random things ever, and Charli idolized it. 

"Listen! I know I haven't exactly showed you much of my Blood Demon Art or talked about it because— well, you know why. I'm not proud of it, but I'm gonna use it to help you." 

"And I already told you, you should feel proud of it. If I had powers, do you know how happy I'd fucking be, dude? I'd show them off all the time like a delusional maniac."

"Well—I know that. I'm sure any person would be super happy if they had powers, but . . . it's—never mind. Here, gimme your wrist." Doma dismisses the conversation about his Blood Demon Art as he takes her wrist into his hand. 

"Now, then . . . this move, I guess you can call it, is called Lotus Vines. I release crystalline ice vines come from my back, and I can move them however I want."

The frosted vines extend out from behind him, some having iced leaves and others with iced lotuses. Like a slithering snake, one vine eases its way to her wrist and it delicately wraps around it. Its touch on Charli's skin as expected was freezing. Her eyes go wide, however she wasn't entirely surprised since she remembered those same vines that constricted the demoness in the forest. 

But seeing them in action made a smile go across her face in awe. She found Doma's abilities exceptionally incredible and beautiful. 

Despite not being able to see much of them since he never likes to show her them (which she respects), she perpetually finds them divine.  

"Does that feel—all right? I wanna make sure it isn't too tight. 'Cause then it'll cut off your blood circulation, annnddd that won't be good," he chuckles. 

"Yeah, no, it's fine like that. It's just really cold." Charli also chuckles as her eyes loom down at the icy vine around her wrist. They then trail up at all the other vines that lingered behind his back. 

"You are so badass," she says, raising her eyebrows and giving him an affectionate beam. 

Doma said nothing in return, but the look he gave her seemed like he didn't approve of her compliment. His gaze was soft, and full of woe as he remained silent. 

"Don't look at me like that." Charli shakes her head. "You amaze me." 

"Do I?" He tilts his head, the end of his lip curving up to a smirk. 

"You do. But, I'm thinking now . . . how did you manage to kill that demon? The male one— with the black hair that chased me in the vents. I know I wasn't far from you when you did, but I wasn't even paying attention, honestly. You told me demons could only die by the sunlight, or by that one sword, and couldn't be killed by other demons." She says inquisitively. 

Doma's witty smirk disappears, and he breaks eye contact with her, his rainbow eyes trailing off to the side. The delicate clench his vine had around her wrist tightens in the slightest, making her perk down at her wrist, her arm twitching vaguely. 

"I don't wanna talk about it," he retorts. 

Charli wasn't expecting his response since he's commonly very open about answering any questions she'd have about demons. It made her even more fascinated and riveted, but it was clearly obvious he wasn't comfortable, and she respected that. Her eyebrows just barely scrunch, and she nods her head. 

"Okay, that's—that's fine." 

In return, Doma only nods once, turning his head back forward and looking down at her wrist. From where his ice vine was wrapped around, it snaps in half, and the rest of it loops away within his back as well as the other vines. The other half of the vine stayed securely around her wrist, its cold temperature soothing the bruised, swollen area. 

"There you go. That should help. Saved you another trip to the doctor, eh? No need to talk to scary grown-ups." Doma winks before he turns around, walking toward his room. 

"You know, you're so lucky," Charli calls out as she traces her index finger along the vine.

"Lucky how?" Doma's voice distances further as he enters into his room. Upon entering in, he grabs either side of his kinono's haneri pulling them apart and undoing his kimono. From his shoulders, it slips down his arms and down his back, meeting with the floor, leaving him bare. 

The candles that were still lit on his dresser illuminated off his lustrous milky skin. Their wax was halfway melted, their flames steadily flickering. 

Charli's voice comes from down the hall in the living room. 

"Well—you like talking to people, and you don't have any trouble doing it. I've struggled to talk to people all my life— well— mostly when I was younger. After age sixteen, I never worried about talking to people since the friends I had left and I was just stuck with my shit-hole parents." 

"Mmm-hmmm," Doma hums to let her know he was listening. 

From one of the drawers from his dresser, he retrieves his tan hakama pants that were nice and clean. He then retrieves his white belt that was curled up beside where his pants were. Its buckle clicks as he grasps it in his hand. 

He slips on his pants and securely fastens the belt. 

Charli leans her back against the elegant brown front door with an oval shaped glass design in the middle of it; golden outlines of lotuses around the sides. The back of her head rests against the cool glass. 

"And now, talking to people when we go to the villages is hard. Like when I wanna order food somewhere. It's so scary for no reason, which is why I always make you order for me because you do it so well. Social anxiety is literally scared of you." 

"Scared of me?" Doma laughs. 

He pokes his head into his turtleneck and pulls it down, putting it on. Before tucking it into his pants, he grabs his hair and pulls it out from within the turtleneck, and it drapes down his back as it always does. Now that his hair was washed and fully dried, it was even more bouncy and fluffy. 

"Yeah, dude. I just wish I actually liked talking to people like the way you do. It would just make life much easier for me." 

Charli's eyes navigate back to Eight, and he was still rolled over on his back on the bean bag, and his eyes were shut. 

"All right! I will draw the line there," Doma says as he hops out his room on one leg while putting on his other black tabi sock. After putting it on successfully, he stamps his leg down and puts his hands on his hips. 

"I'll let you in on a little secret, come closer." He beckons his head to the side. 

Charli's eyes go wide in the slightest and her eyebrows furrow. 

"What do you mean "come closer"? We're the only ones here. What, you think Eight is gonna go tell all his raccoon fellas in the woods?" 

"Us being the only ones here makes being closer that much better." 

"That sounds remotely suggestive." Charli wittily smirks, raising her eyebrows. 

Doma's bubbly, genial expression immediately converts to a firm, reserved glare, and his voice tones down.

"I know." 

Her eyes widen and she snorts before chuckling. "You're so stupid. Okay." She leans up from the door and treads over to him getting as close as she possibly could. Their faces were only inches away, and she squints her eyes, smirking. 

"What's your secret?" 

He genuinely wasn't expecting her to get so close to him. He could just about feel her warm breath against his lips. His head leans back a bit and he holds his own breath, feeling his cheeks ignite with uncontrollable warmth. He doesn't break eye contact with her though. His mouth shapes to a smile, and he plays it cool. 

"I actually don't like talking to people," he whispers.

Charli's eyebrows raise. "For real?" 

He nods, "For real." 

"Then how come you're so good at it?" 

"Well—" He stammers, and now he breaks eye contact. Doma has excellent social skills, and has no trouble keeping eye contact with the person he's speaking to, but when he has to talk about things that make him uncomfortable, all his skills plummet. 

"It's—you know. Because of the cult, I guess. From a super young age like I told you, I had to speak to all kinds of people and help them with their problems. Mean people, nice people, shy people, weird people. My role was to be happy with all those dim-witted followers for years, so I'm just used to talking to people without any issue."

Charli's demeanor relaxes, and she quietly sighs, tilting her head. 

"Yeah, that makes sense. But what I don't get it is if you don't like speaking to people, why force yourself to? Like, now I mean. You handle small talk so well with randoms when we go to villages. I can't stand that shit, it's so awkward."  

His fluorescent eyes of color make their way back to hers. He smiles and chuckles, shutting his eyes for a moment.  

"Charli, you most likely don't notice it, but I never approach anyone first in the villages. They're the ones to approach me, and it's usually just to compliment and point out my eyes or whatever. If it were up to me, I'd feel much happier to not speak with anyone I don't know, but of course if someone strikes a conversation with me first, I'm gonna talk to them. I won't be a jerk and ignore them. In the category, I guess you can say I land in the ambivert section." 

"Ambivert?" 

"Yes! An ambivert is essentially someone who possesses both introvert and extrovert traits. I began feeling this way not long after experiencing emotions. You might be an ambivert, too. Because you only enjoy talking to people you know well, right?" 

"Yeah. I hate talking to strangers, it makes me so overwhelmed, like what am I supposed to do once I run out of things to say? Where do I put my hands?" She holds up her hands close to Doma's face, and as a reaction, his eyes widen and he leans his head back. 

"How do I stand? What if my face looks weird? What if my voice sounds weird? UUUGGHHH. It's actually really frustrating." She lowers her hands and covers her face.

She found it exhausting and frightening to talk to people she didn’t know, yet her past conversations with the two female demons made it seem like she wasn’t. She didn’t feel socially anxious while speaking to them at all; definitely an odd thing. 

Doma snickers and he takes a step back folding his arms. 

"Now, that sounds like a self-conscious problem. Trust me when I say this, it's all in your head. You overthink it. I used to be self-conscious, too! Because every girl I'd pass in the village would faint after just looking at me! Remember that one girl I apologized to after bumping into? She was so nervous for some reason, and it made me feel strange! Like— insecure!" He lifts his arm and knocks on his head a few times. 

Charli's face goes blank. 

"Dude . . . do you even look at yourself in the mirror? You're literally a chick magnet." 

He giggles like a creepy evil goblin, and he turns around tapping his fingers together, similar to a villain planning a malevolent scheme. 

"I'll have you know I was just fishing for a compliment!" 

Charli blithely rolls her eyes and blows a raspberry. 

"Real smooth, hotshot. Anyways, let me get my raincoat." 

With that, Charli passes him and vanishes down the hall and upstairs to her room. Outside was still raining like never before, melting all the snow in some areas of the forest, yet some slush remained scattered around some portions of the ground. 

Doma found himself continuously thinking about what she said about him and if he looks at himself in the mirror. The mirth expression that he usually carries around Charli disappears once again, and he drops his head low. He refrained from mentioning it to her, but he actually hasn't looked at himself in the mirror in months. He finds it hard to. 

His head pivots over to Eight sleeping on his purple beanbag with soft gravelly snores emerging from him every slow breath he took. 

Doma smiles with his head cocking to the side. 

"So . . . you retain your energy without blood by sleeping, too?" 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"Damn slush . . ." 

The tranquil sound of Mother Nature's rain bathing the forest wasn't the only sound that could be heard. The pestering complaints of an angry Hashira accompanied the air. The forest was rather dim and gloomy, the rain just adding icing to the cake, but the pink and green haired convivial girl and white haired surly man stood out the most. 

Walking side by side one another, they were descending through the dense trees through the mushy grey slush that overlapped the ground. 

"You're the one who wanted to start this mission earlier since it's gonna be cloudy and rainy all day, Shinazugawa," Mitsuri exclaims in amuse. 

"I still think starting it at night like Master Ubuyashiki said would have been much better! I have a feeling those two aren’t going be out in weather like this." 

"It doesn't matter what the weather's like. It's not like it'll make any difference in the night when it's not raining." 

"I think it makes a big difference!" The girl beams, her eyebrows scrunched.

"No, it doesn't." Sanemi gives her a glare from the corner of his eye. 

"Who is to say they would be out in the night? And who is to say they wouldn't be out right now? Time and weather do not matter. We'll find them either way." 

Mitsuri's face goes blank, and fairly clueless. Her beam however remained. What he stated made sense to her to some extent, and she wanted to break it down in her head, but she refrained.

"Okay," she giggles, "I understand! This mission is fun anyways! It's like we get to bond more!" 

"I don't bother forming bonds." He grips his sword's handle. "Missions are to exterminate and kill every last one of those revolting demons." 

"I know! But whenever I go on missions with any of the others, I also see it as a perfect opportunity to build friendship! We all have to work together, so why not be close?!" 

She happily announces pridefully with both her fists clenched and her cheeks burning pink, her charming, optimistic face riddled with courage. 

Sanemi did nothing but stare unimpressed. Unimpressed, and even disappointed. He was at a loss for words, and he couldn't do anything, but turn his head away, his lips forming a sneer. 

"Why couldn't I have done this mission with Iguro?" he inquired to himself. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"Wooo!! This is actually really fun!!" Doma yells ecstatically as he skids along the wet ground. His damp hair flails behind him with some strands stuck to his cheeks and his neck just above his turtleneck collar. 

Charli was way in the back with her vigilant eyes darting almost everywhere. She had on a yellow raincoat with its hood pulled over her head with her hair tucked into it to prevent it from getting wet.

Every droplet of water that would meet with it would seep down its rubbery material, keeping her safely dried. It was a good call to wear it; Doma's vine was still wrapped around her wrist easing the bruising, perfectly shielded from the precipitation. 

"This area looks kinda sketch," she calls out to him. 

Doma stops skimming along the slushy forest ground, and he turns around. 

"Do you really like scary things? Or are you a fake scary-thing fan?!" He points at her with, eyebrows scrunched whimsically. 

"I'm no fake scary-thing fan, you monkey. I just have sense, and I'd like to, oh, I don't know . . . live. Just for a few more years at least. Why couldn't we bring Eight? He could've been our guard dog," Charli says as she makes her way closer to him. 

"You saw, Ocho was asleep on my bean bag. He needs rest." 

"Yeah, but we could've woke him up," she responds as she turns her head back taking another glimpse of the eerie, rainy atmosphere.

"This is the exact place in every horror book where someone mysteriously gets kidnapped, or some mythical folklore creature fucking leaps from the shadows and tears them apart." 

After speaking, she turns her head forward seeing him entirely gone. Her eyes widen over his sudden vanish. 

"Doma . . . ?" 

He sneaks up behind her, inching his face near hers with his lips just barely grazing along her ear. He mutters low, making his voice sound raspy and deep. 

"I've come for your soul." 

"Yo!!" she startlingly screams, whipping around. "Knock it off, dumbass!!" 

Doma laughs as he backs up, swaying his hips.

"If anything, I'm the mythical folklore creature you should be scared of!" 

He shifts his weight onto one foot, letting his hips roll in a smooth circle. His other foot taps the ground lightly, then slides sideways as his shoulders roll with the movement, letting his body flow naturally.

His hips then swing sharply to the left, then right, each motion paired with a quick step—step forward, step back, tap, slide. Water splashed up with each stir of his footwork, marking the rhythm only he could feel.

He twists his torso, letting his slim waist guide him as he stepped in small, fast patterns. One foot tapped, the other pivoted, then he spun lightly, hips rolling all the way through the turn with his hair whipping behind him, sprinkling water with every swift, methodical move of his body. His soaked turtleneck was like tape against his skin, refining the dips and grooves of his muscles. 

Charli goes wide-eyed, silently watching him. Her chestnut eyes sink down his frame, observing the way his body curved and undulated with quiet admiration as he danced.
"Holy shit . . . you're actually really good at that, goddamn! Yeah, you move that body!" she roots, clapping her hands.

He bashfully laughs, bending his legs low while his feet shuffled—side to side, then forward and back—each step hitting like a drumbeat. He straightens, letting his hips spin one last time. 
"I actually used to dance a lot when I was a human! I stopped after becoming a demon, but I think I'm still good at it." He shrugs his shoulders self-consciously.  

"Hell yeah you are, I wish I could move my hips like that. Dude can move his better than a girl." She snorts, tilting her head down and attempting to swing her hips in a roll from side to side. 

"Shut up!" Doma sheepishly swats a hand with a cackle. An ice vine then extends out from his back, deftly whirling around Charli's waist before tugging her into him.

"Whoa!!" she exclaims as she jerks forward, hands plummeting against Doma's chest. His vine unwraps from around her and dissipates within his back, and he snakes his arms around her, beaming down at her with a playful smirk, glaring his pearly canines. 

"Shall we dance, chica?" He raises his eyebrows up and down a few times, giving her the eyebrow wiggle teasingly. Charli's mouth gaped open by an inch, watching the rain showering onto his hair, every droplet trickling down every strand of its platinum silk. Droplets were speckled on his long eyelashes, and some would trickle from the tip of his nose. With hands still on his chest, she grips his turtleneck into them, chuckling softly. 

"Sure, chico, but I don't know how to." 

"It's very simple. Here's all you need to do," he says as he takes her hands into his own. 

"Take one hand, and put it around my neck." He pulls her arm and wraps her hand around his neck. She keeps it there, feeling his drenched hair against her palm. 

"Then, this other hand gets held by mine," he guides, interlocking his slim fingers into hers while keeping their arms raised.

"And lastly, my other hand goes around your waist." He wraps his other arm around her waist, his hand pressing and holding her back securely. She was closer than ever before now, even closer than back at home when she got close to hear his big secret. She kept her brown eyes locked on his ethereal ones, the "Upper Two" engraved into them nearly glistening. 

"Annndd, we just slowly move in a certain rhythm!" 

Doma takes the lead, and he steers around in a delicate pattern keeping her in his clutch. At first, she struggled to keep up with the pattern, but sooner or later, she managed to figure it out, and they slow danced in the rain.

She was mesmerized, wholly mesmerized, like she was being hypnotized! She couldn't hear the sound of the rain or thunder. She couldn't hear absolutely anything. She couldn't see absolutely anything around her surroundings, as her site was only focused on him, beyond abstracted. Like him and her were the only ones on the planet. 

Doma kept a sugary, amiable grin. Rain droplets trickled off his eyelashes and landed on his cheeks, where they'd ooze toward his sharp jawline and follow it down to his chin. 

"It'd be much more entertaining with music," he chuckles, "but even without it, it's still fun!" 

Charli didn't exactly comprehend what he said, and only really concentrated to the sound of his blissful, tranquil voice. 

"And also, if you wanna be groovy with it, you can do this, too!" 

He lifts his arm from around her waist and raises both their hands up higher, then twirls her arm around, making her lose her hold around his neck as she spins around.

"Then, you get right back into position!" 

After spinning, Charli ends up slipping along the wet ground, falling back. She finally snaps out of her trance and back into reality, feeling herself tumble behind. 

"Whoa, shit!" 

Doma reacts quick and leans down as his arm wraps around her waist again catching her just in time. They were now unintentionally in a dipping position, pretty ironic. 

"I got you! Hah! My reflexes are just too good, no?" He raises his eyebrows. 

Charli's arm makes its way around his neck again for support as she chuckles, nodding. 

"Yeah, they are. Jesus Christ." 

Her yellow raincoat's hood ends up slipping off her head, which made her hair fall out since it was tucked into it. The rain began to dampen her hair almost instantaneously, the light pastel pink tips nearly touching the ground. 

It was like they were in that dipping position for hours, taking each other in rigorously, yet not knowing why. Neither of them knew why they were feeling this way, it was new for both of them. They really were the only ones there. 

Until they weren’t. 

One blink was all it took for Doma to suddenly find Charli gone. Like she wasn’t even there in the first place. His eyes widen and he almost face plants into the ground, but he quickly straightens himself out while stomping forward. A short gasp exits from his lips as he looks up, confusion overriding his face immediately. 

The pink and green girl leaped up into the air with Charli on her back. She clung to her for dear life, screaming out from the unexpected swoop off the ground. 

The happy girl swings her head around, her cheeks fired up and her eyes twinkling with exhilaration. 

“Sorry!” she exclaims with a giggle. “Shinazugawa’s plans are so stupid!” 

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎

★──────★──────★

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧

It happened so fast; one moment she was practically underneath Doma as he held her in his sweet clutches, then the next she was up in the air, screaming and terrified. 

Doma was left in shambles, not exactly knowing how to react. Sometimes when extravagant things took place too quickly, it took time for his emotions to properly comprehend. His sight was hazy, and he shook his head from side to side. 

"Is that— a demon?—No, a Demon . . . Slayer? Why do I sense like they're a Hashira? . . . Wait—wait, a Hashira?!" 

Doma's train of thought gets smacked out of him as soon as Sanemi unexpectedly delivers a swift kick to his solar plexus, making him double over and tumble back twice before landing on his back with force. Since he was lacking a boatload of human blood, his senses were rusty and he wasn't the absolute greatest at predicting upcoming attacks anymore.

The hostile white-haired Hashira didn't waste any time. He ambles over to Doma, stopping directly above him with both his feet on either side of his arms as he lied on the ground. With a maniacal gander, he unsheathes his green and black katana, planting it assertively beside Doma's head into the ground. He crouches down, hovering overtop him and inching his taunting face toward his. 

"I've got one question for you, Upper Moon," he exclaims with crazed vexation. "What the hell are you trying to pull here? And where's Kibutsuji's stronghold?!" 

Doma lied beneath him helplessly with a look of confusion and shock painted across his face. Seconds after his emotions appropriately establish, his eyebrows draw close together before one cocks up. 
"Uh—that's actually two questions."

Sanemi's breath hitches as it gets caught in his throat. His expression sharpens in annoyance and he withdraws his katana from the ground, bringing it right above Doma's face. Its point was aimed down toward his mouth and nose. His fluorescent eyes widen appallingly as a gasp leaves his lips. 

"Wait—!" 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"Who the hell are you?! Put me down!" Charli screams, clung onto Mitsuri's back as she leaped from tree branch to tree branch briskly like an acrobat, her thick braids and skirt fluttering. Despite the branches being slippery and wet from the rainfall, she was as agile and flawless as ever with her movements. 

"Waaaaa!!" Mitsuri exclaims out in panic. "I am, I am!" 

Hastily, she leaps from one last branch before safely landing with a soft light thud, letting Charli off her back. She swivels around on her heels, her pale green gaze meeting Charli's. 

"I'm really sorry about all of this!" she apologetically whines and waves both her hands frantically. 

"I can explain everything!" 

Naturally, Charli's feet take about five steps back on their own, her throat swelling with uncertainty and hesitation. 
"Who—who are you? Why'd you—" Her words stay stuck on the tip of her tongue as her sight wanders down to the girl's unbuttoned chest. It was rather hard for her not to notice such a striking outfit, yet part of her admired her confidence to wear something such as so. Charli could never wear something like that. The trauma her past friends gave her about her body was still woven within her heart, and it will be for a long time; in spite of Doma telling her there's absolutely nothing wrong with it countless times. 

Her eyes linger lower, and they catch ahold of the sword handle and white and pink scabbard kept fastened at her waist by her white belt. Droplets of rain trickled off the turquoise and pink handle towards the ground, while some streamed down it and into the pink and gold heart hilt. That katana caught her attention best of all, making her thoughts rewind a year back. 
When she was nearly killed by the demon that decimated her parents. 

The mysterious person who dispatched the demon and saved her life had a similar belt, a scabbard, and, of course, not to mention a katana. They were a Demon Slayer. And the people Doma killed when he first met Charli were all Demon Slayers who had the same belt and gear. Mitsuri's attire was evidently diverse to Charli, but it still had the same aspect, which only left her thinking one thing. 

"Demon Sl—" Her brows shoot up as her eyes go wide, and realization comes straight at her like a bullet to the heart. 

"Doma . . ." She swings around, leaving the pink and green haired Hashira behind as she trampled through the woods with worrisome and dread fulfilling the inner depths of her chest and heart. She got an eerie twinge of déjà vu as fake scenarios swarmed her brain like a million pestering gnats, all of them ending in her best friend being mutilated by a Demon Slayer. He was weakened, and would never harm even a fly, regardless if it was the most irritating thing known to man. He'd capture it and set it free outside; meaning there's no way he'd fight back a Demon Slayer. 

She didn't look back once, as her instant intuition was to bolt like a frightened mother in desperate search for her lost child in a crowded city, her heart pounding through her flesh as the dense trees swooshed past her vision. 

"Doma!”

"W—wait! Hey!" Mitsuri pursues after her, keeping one hand held to her sheathed sword. "Wow, she's fast! And she's so pretty! The demon's name is Doma?" she reflects. "Hey, come back! It's okay! We're not going to hurt Doma!" 

"We're. She said "We're.” Someone else is definitely here . . . Goddammit, please," Charli thinks as her legs keep striding as fast as they could, like her instincts were taking her. She wasn't going to let any Demon Slayer harm a single hair on his head. He meant the world to her; he was her world. It was hard for her to express it. Romantic love or not; she loved him and cherished him more than her own life. 

Rustling through the wet bombarded undergrowth, she began to make out two figures in the distance. Luckily the rain had calmed itself, and it only lightly drizzled; yet every single light droplet was as freezing as ice and stung her face. 

Hauling closer and closer, her horrendous eyesight distinguished the two figures: Sanemi on top of Doma. She didn't even need to think, she right away knew he was a Demon Slayer, she already recognized the standard uniform. She felt her soul egress her body, like it slumped to her feet leaving her empty.

"Get the fuck off him!" 

She didn't even remember it happening. One blink was all it took, then she felt someone underneath her, her palms digging into their shoulders and her fingers seizing tight like talons. The Hashira's pale purple eyes go wide as he was instantaneously tackled, his back plunged into the ground.

Mitsuri pops out from the midst of the forest, her legs coming to a halt and both her hands shooting up to her mouth following by a gasp leaving her. 

"She—she tackled Shinazugawa?! Waaaa?!" 

Charli's arms vaguely trembled, her fingers grasping tighter by the second. Her eyebrows were drawn close, her teeth gritted and her long hair draping around her face, and Sanemi's. She blinks once, then shudders and releases her grip before climbing off him and whirling around toward Doma. 

He sat himself up before rising to his feet, and Charli cups both his cheeks in her hands, standing to her tippy toes to match his height with her forehead leaning against his.
"Are you okay? Doma?!" 
She props her right hand low, tugging at his turtleneck collar and folding it down exposing his neck. The bob of his Adam's apple rises and falls when he swallows. No slash. She sighs in relief, shutting her eyes. 

Anchors lift off her shoulders, leaving her body feeling light and solace. Doma tucks in his lips and he nods, softly humming. 

"Mm-hmm, yeah . . . I'm okay." His voice shakes.

Charli's eyes reopen, and she nods before taking her hands off him, and she turns around, facing the two Hashira. Sanemi had gotten up, retaining his katana tight in a relentless grip. 

Her eyebrows furrow again with her gape toughening. A part of her felt apprehensive to speak, but she had too much feeling sweltering within her to stay quiet. Her gaze locks between Mitsuri and Sanemi, observing them both. Sanemi's demeanor was more exasperated and vexatious; the thick scars scattered across his body stuck out to her the most making her get an intimidating aspect from him. 

"You guys are those demon hunters," Charli remarks. 

"Demon Slayers," Sanemi corrects. 

"Potato, pa-tah-to. Whatever. You touch Doma again, and I swear to God, I'll shove your own sword so far up your ass," she threatens, taking a step closer. Doma's expression shifts. His eyebrows raise, like he was impressed and idolizing Charli's attitude while feeling flattery flicker through him. 

"Let's see you try," Sanemi grimaces, also taking a step forward. 

"Mr. Shinazugawa, stop!" Mitsuri huffs as she shuffles in between the two. "This is not what we're here for! Master Ubuyashiki would not want this. Our mission is to save her!" 

"Save me? Does it look like I need to be saved?" 

"You're foolish. You don't even know what's standing right behind you. That's a Twelve Kizuki. Both of you, get out my way." Sanemi grits his teeth. Vexing veins spread across his face as he steps into a battle stance, itching to rush forward and swing straight for Doma's neck. 

Doma remained mute, drawing steps back. He kept his gaze low with his head hung, like a guilty child in timeout after breaking a vase. His natural fast-paced heart rate began to palpitate quicker, his fingers and hands beginning to tremble, his teeth chittering and grinding persistently. His sight began to distort and swirl. 

He got that feeling so often, and it was an emotion he had trouble identifying. He didn't know if it even was an emotion. 

It definitely was. Anxiety. He hated it. It made him feel like he was falling into a dark abyss he couldn't escape, like any moment the ground beneath him would drop and he'd go tumbling down to the unknown. It made his stomach twist with nausea and unease. 

"Shinazugawa!" Mitsuri huffs again, her eyebrows drawing close snagging him a hard glare. She tried hard, but her stern look didn't appear very threatening. More or less cute. 

"Master Ubuyashiki didn't order us to kill him. He wasn't going to eat her, I saw! They were dancing! It was cu—" 

"Cute?! Don't make me laugh!" he screams with that maniacal smile. 

"It doesn't matter whether or not he ordered us to kill it. It's our job. Get out of the damn way!" 

"Are you shitting me right now?!" Charli exclaims, fists clenched and eyebrows knitted. She despised talking to people she didn't know, but she'd never back down from protecting the one she cared for more than her own life.

"Look, I know jack about you Demon Slayers, but I know for a fact that if I was a Demon Slayer and I saw a demon that was unwilling to attack and eat people, I would cherish that demon and keep them safe 'til the end of time." 

"You're speaking for yourself, kid. A Demon Slayer's job is to slay demons. Step to the side or I'll make this simpler and kill both of you." Sanemi threatens with a crazed scowl. 

Mitsuri was left heartbroken by Sanemi's words, but she felt too apprehensive to barge in. Sanemi was a strenuous one, and he often scared her. She felt useless, and she could tell Doma wasn't carrying any harmful intentions just by observing his body language and getting a feel of his aura.

"All right then," Charli chuckles brazenly with a careless shrug. She throws up both her hands. 

"Kill me then, I fucking dare you. You know you can't. That'll make you a murderer. In fact, killing a one-hundred percent harmless demon is considered murder, too in my eyes." 

Doma's head raises and he goes wide-eyed. The tremor in his hands grows more intense, and it looked like he wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out, like someone's hand was strangling his throat. His whole head was spinning, and his teeth grinding worsened. 

Mitsuri stamps forward with a courageous smile. "Okay! That's where I come in! Because now Doma's giving me a Nezuko feel!" She shoots both Charli and Doma a sunny smile. 

Charli eyed Mitsuri quietly for a moment before she shook her head and shrugged. "Nezuko? Who's Nezuko?" 

"She's a very special demon who hasn't eaten a single human ever since she became one! There was an altercation at first, but she was accepted into the Demon Slayer Corps, and she now fights alongside her brother, Tanjiro Kamado who is a Demon Slayer!" Mitsuri beams, her voice bright and cheery. 

Charli attentively observed the pink and green Hashira. The way she spoke. The way her cheerful aspect hung loose in the air, alleviating the heavy tension that abruptly clouded their senses. Mitsuri began to remind her of Doma with that animated smile and vivacious quality. She couldn't help but imagine Doma standing there, being the one talking to her with his contagious beam. 

The words that came out her roseate lips went straight into Charli's ear and came right out the other. She blinked, taking a beat too long to comprehend her words before her eyes widen a fraction. 

"What?—A demon was accepted into the Demon Slayer Corps?! Accept Doma!" She gestures her hand back at him. 

"He hasn't eaten a person ever since he met me! Which was a year ago!" 

"I'm not accepting an Upper Moon into the Demon Slayer Corps, I don't care how much you bribe me." Sanemi reluctantly sneers. 

"Eat a bag of dicks, you fartknocker." Charli glares at Sanemi. 

"Charli—!" Doma quietly exclaims before he covers his mouth with both his hands. He's been alive for a very long time, and he has never seen anyone speak to a Hashira like so. He was frankly appalled from Charli's temerity. In spite of her being afraid to talk to people, she certainly wasn't afraid to speak her mind. His favorite thing about her. 

Eventually, his trembling slender hands make their way further up, covering his entire face.  

Mitsuri herself shoots both her hands up to her mouth. She snorts, her cheeks burning red. 

"Pardon me . . ." 

Sanemi hitches, and his hand clenches his katana handle tighter. 

"You watch what you say, trash mouth." 

"Her name's Charli?! Unique! She's such a tough girl . . . to think she's protecting her friend who's a demon. That's strong friendship love! She's so cool!" Mitsuri reflects with upmost enthusiasm. "Oh, wait, but they were just slow dancing, weren't they? And he was dipping her when I snatched her! EEEE! If it weren't for me, they would have surely kissed! I ruined their moment, I ruined it!" She clenches her fists wincing, stamping her foot and hopping up and down a little.

Charli whips her head back at Doma giving him a reassuring smile.

"It's okay. They're not gonna hurt you." 

Between his fingers, Doma peeks at her, and he slowly nods his head in response. She swivels her head back around, snapping a glowering glance at the white-haired Hashira. 

"I'll make sure of that." 

Sanemi returns the same look of seething animosity. The inflaming tension between Charli and him was nearly unbearable, and it was evident she already despised him, and the feeling was mutual on his end. But her anger toward him always seemed to die down whenever Mitsuri would speak to her. She ambles close to Charli, taking either of her hands into her own. 

"Charli, I've never heard a name like that before! I love it!" she giggles ecstatically.

Charli remained silent taking in Mitsuri's dazzling voice and aspect. Her hair and eyes stuck out to her the most. Aside from Doma, she's never really seen anyone with such extravagant hair and eyes. All she's seen was the generic black hair and brown doe eyes. She wondered if she dyed it. 

She had to . . . there's no possible way someone's hair could be pink and green naturally, but then again look at Doma; with his natural fluorescent eyes and platinum silver hair. She's also never encountered a woman so friendly and inviting. 

She's met girls who'd pretend to be all welcoming and amiable, but it was all a mask shielding a cold, spiteful heart and personality, like her insufferable old friends. But Mitsuri's words and actions were assuredly authentic. It reminded her so much of Doma. 

"Thanks." Charli manages to muster incoherently. 

"Tell me," Mitsuri induces, "how did you and Doma meet? What's your guys' story?! I had a feeling he stopped eating humans; I really felt it in my heart, like WHOOOOM!! Tee-hee!" 

Her exhilarating voice fills the forest, and while Doma and Charli enjoyed it, Sanemi didn't. He lifts a hand, face-palming in disappointment. 

"Uh—" Charli's voice cracks as a twitchy smile shapes her lips. It's not that she didn't like Mitsuri, but it perhaps was hard for her to keep up with her radiant energy. 

"Well, to start." Her hands wriggle their way out of Mitsuri's and she sticks up both her thumbs. 

"Both my parents were killed by a demon, so that's cool." 

"Welcome to the club, Trash Mouth. We've got a logo and jackets," Sanemi remarks as he gives the collar of his green-tinted uniform a tug. 

Mitsuri swings her head, shooting him an angry glance, not finding his comment appropriate. Charli also gives him a baleful gape, and it seemed she wanted to say something. Something like, "Shut the fuck up," or along those lines. But she zips her lips because she felt Doma's eyes lingering on her from behind. 

Mitsuri pivots her hear back forward and she whispers, "Don't mind him. He's always cranky!" 

"Surprising," Charli responds sarcastically. 

Mitsuri giggles before she leans an inch closer. "So tell me, tell me! Enlighten me! I wanna know everything!" Mitsuri's beam sparkles cordially. 

Charli leans back by a tad, and she mentally rolls her eyes. She didn't want to tell her entire story right from the beginning, but she had to in order to give both Hashira a better understanding of her and Doma. She takes a deep breath before letting out a sigh. 

"Okay."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"And that's basically it. I grew attached to him because he treated me better than any person I've ever met, and he never once made fun of me or looked at me differently because of my body and shit like my old friends. And he grew attached to me because I never made him feel like a God like everyone else did." Charli finishes explaining as she fumbles around with the rubbery material of her raincoat's hem. She had explained Doma's cult, too, along with the way he was treated and how his parents exploited him for his hair color and eyes for more wealth and followers. 

He grew up emotionless because he never experienced anything in life other than sitting on that bean bag and hearing people's cries and mournings of sorrow.

Talking to them twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week without a rest. He didn't have friends, family, siblings; he was stuck needing to stay perfect for years, then had to watch his own mother stab his father to death, in which she'd soon after poison herself, committing suicide right in front of him. It made her wonder: maybe he wouldn't have turned out like the way he did if his parents provided him with the nurturing care and affection a child's supposed to receive. Maybe he wouldn't have grown up to be emotionless. Maybe he wouldn't have became a demon. 

For the way he was before he gained consciousness with human emotions, she blamed his parents. 

"As cheesy and stupid as it sounds, our pasts kinda intertwine. We both had shitty childhoods, and we both, like—how do you say it?" Charli stumbles over her words. 

"We both kinda just give slash gave each other what we always wanted. I always wanted someone I could trust and call a friend, he always wanted someone who wouldn't treat him like everyone else does. Like a normal person." 

Mitsuri attentively listened to Charli from the very start, her eyebrows arched with her hand balled to a fist and kept at her mouth while her other hand held the helm of her pleated skirt. And on the other hand, Sanemi was impassive and uninterested. He had taken a seat on a nearby rock impatiently waiting ever since the beginning, but he slid his sword back into his black and white scabbard, and that at least made Charli feel some relief. 

Doma remained at his spot a few yards behind Charli, his view kept down the entire time with his hands kept behind his back. 

"To you people, he's probably just a demon, but to me he's so much more than that. He's my best friend. My family. Every time I look into his eyes, I don't see the evil engraved into them. I just see a friend who understands me and my heart without needing a single word." 

Those words from Charli stuck out to Doma the most. He raises his head, feeling tears prickle and sting his divine eyes. His emotions spiraled all over, and he had the urge to dash up to Charli and embrace her in a hug from behind, but he refrained mostly because doing that when they're in the middle of talking might be a bit awkward and weird. He'd probably never admit it to Charli, but all he's ever wanted after experiencing emotions was to be held. 

Be held and be cared for since he's never felt the nourishing endearment a human being must receive not once in his life. Nobody cared about him in the cult, not one soul. If he were to drop down into tears in front of the followers, they wouldn't have cared. Because to them he was only existing for their sake. 

He was their shoulder to cry on and remained as that role for years to the point where he figured that's what life's all about. Life is just about being everyone's punching bag. Parents aren't supposed to care about their kids, they're supposed to throw them into the open with hundreds of strangers and force them to act like an adult before even knowing how to count to twenty. 

They're supposed to curse each other out and kill each other in front of their child. Leaving them with an empty heart and oblivious to emotions, making them ponder endlessly why they can't feel. Making them switch between multiple partners to try to feel something for once. Making their favorite hobbies guzzling sake and smoking tobacco. 

That's what it was all about to him.

Until he met Charli, who introduced him to free will, to life outside of the cult and serving Muzan. Introduced him to relaxation, fun, humor, intimacy, and a variety of other things. She made him discover hobbies that eminently got his emotions running, like reading. He grew fond over those corny romance novels because he's always wanted to experience that. To experience love, to experience being touched in all kinds of ways. Ways that would get his blood pumping, his breathing raggedy, and his muscles tensed. 

Although everything wasn't exactly peaches and cream with his emotions. He experienced things that terrified him, and Charli had yet to find out because he'll always keep those emotions inside. 

Mitsuri kept quiet the whole time Charli elucidated; observing, patiently learning earnestly. A smile soon fixes up her lips. 

"I don't think he's just a demon. He sounds like an amazing companion!" 

Mitsuri's compliment leaves Doma's cheeks rosy, and he drops his head again with a coy grin.

"He is," Charli says firmly. "And your partner over there can stab or punch me all he wants, but he's not touching Doma." 

"Your parents were killed by a demon, then you go and trust one and make it your best friend. Makes lots of sense. No one in their right mind would pull something repulsive like that," Sanemi chimes in as he stands from the rock before slowly sauntering over to them. 

Charli's gaze meets him, and it sharpens instantly.

"And you're speaking for everyone else. You probably had a happy-go-lucky life as a child with good parents and friends who kissed your ass." 

"And you're assuming," Sanemi vehemently sneers as he trudges closer to Charli. 

Mitsuri trembles in apprehension, afraid of a fight breaking out, and she prides open both her lips about to speak up until Doma finally does. 

"Bring me to where the Ubuyashiki family resides. I'll speak with him myself so he can gain my uttermost trust," he says with his head raised, eyeing Sanemi. 

The three of them go silent. Charli whips her head back at Doma, and they all gawk at him silently for what felt like an eternity. It began to make Doma feel . . . self-conscious. He tucks in his lips with a bead of sweat leaving his forehead. 

"Oh my God . . . did my voice sound weird? Is there something on my face?"  He thought.

Finally, Mitsuri mentally squeals and she slaps both her hands onto her cheeks. 

"WAAAA!! He sounds so precious! So innocent! He's so tall and built, but he seems so gentle and reserved!"  

"You're living in a fantasy world if you think a Hashira's going to willingly lead an Upper Moon to the Demon Slayer headquarters," Sanemi speaks up. "How would we know this isn't a plan by Ki—" 

"All right, then. If that's intolerable, then how about you specifically tell him that I said I'd like to speak with him to let him know I have no harmful intentions towards him or the Demon Slayer Corps? And it doesn't have to be where he resides. It can be somewhere else, a blind meeting, far from the Demon Slayer headquarters. Hell, it can be all the way in Sapporo for all I care. I'll walk," Doma says. 

His tone and manner was uncommonly formal, so serious and solemn. Charli's never seen him such a way. She liked it. A lot. The peculiar feeling she felt in her chest and stomach when they were slow dancing and when he called her his sweetheart sweltered her. 

"I think that's a wonderful idea!" Mitsuri announces with pride. "I agree!" She throws her fist into the air, and she marches towards Doma, now standing just before him. His posture tightens up and his eyes widen. 

"I trust you, Doma! I'm rooting for you!" she cheers. 

The unease within him ultimately vanishes leaving him with a bashful smile. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah! I'm also really sorry about what you went through because of your eyes and hair. I think that's really silly. It kind of reminds me of my hair. I love sakura mochi . . . I ate it so much it made my hair this color! Hee-hee! Isn't that funny?" Mitsuri sheepishly beams with her eyes shut. 

A soft gasp of awe leaves Doma. "Ahh? For real? I don't think that's funny, I think that's super cool! I had no idea that was possible!" His eyes twinkle bright with an expression of bewilderment. 

"Eeeee! He just gets cuter and cuter by the second!" She clenches her fists tight.

"Wait, what? Your hair turned that color from eating a bunch of mochi?" Charli chimes, making her way over to the two. 

"Yeah, yeah! I ate a lot of it for eight months back when I was little!" 

"Shit, maybe I should try that so I don't have to keep re-dyeing my hair." Charli half-jokes. With both hands, she reaches back, grabbing her wavy thick black hair and slinging it over her shoulder displaying her faded ends. 

Mitsuri giggles and she gives Charli a gentle shove. "It's worth a shot! I know dyeing hair can be so frustrating and takes a long time!" 

"Kanroji," Sanemi calls. "Let's go. We'll return back and relay the demon's message." 

With that, he turns around striding away having nothing more to say. 

Mitsuri twists her head around, her thick braids swooshing. She held her hand to her mouth. "Wow, he gave in!" she whispers aloud so he couldn't hear. "I totally wasn't expecting that! That's a good sign!" 

"He better. Your name's Kanroji?" Charli asks. 

"And his name's—what? Shi—Shinaz—what the fuck kind of name is that? I can't even pronounce it." 

Doma snorts, biting down on his lip to prevent him from laughing out loud before his hands shoot up to his mouth covering it. 

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry . . . I sounded like a pig." 

Mitsuri bursts out laughing. "That's his last name! Although you aren't the first person to say that, that's for sure! His name's Sanemi, and I'm Mitsuri!" 

"Salami, got it." Charli nods. 

"Hee-hee! You two are the cutest!" 

Mitsuri steps closer to Doma and she lifts her hand gently patting his head. In response, he chuckles with his cheeks burning bright, his sharp pearly fangs beaming. 

"We were able to accept one demon into the Demon Slayer Corps, I'm sure we'll be able to accept another!" 

She then takes back her hand and balls them both into tight fists. 

"Mitsuri Kanroji is rooting for Charli and Doma!" 

Her motivating aura was exceptionally angelic, and it made them feel like they were floating to heavenly bliss. 

"Thank you, Ms. Kanroji! That really means the whole wide world to me," Doma mutters, his eyes glistening as tears build up at the corners. 

She huffs with enthusiasm and pride before she trots away, her sight still on them with a waving hand.

"I have to go, but we'll all see each other again soon! Bye now!" 

"Buh-bye!" Doma ecstatically waves his arm up high from side to side with a big grin from ear-to-ear. Charli only lifts her arm a bit, faintly waving her hand. It didn't take long for both Hashira to disappear within the midst of the dark forest leaving the two friends alone in silence. The drizzling weather had come to a full stop, and it remained cloudy and windy. 

"She was really nice," Doma breaks the quietness like glass. "I really . . . hope Ubuyashiki accepts me. That's their Master, by the way. The leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. If he doesn't accept me, then . . . I don't know what'll happen to me. To us." He hangs his head. 

"He will accept you." Charli steps closer to him, looking him up in the eyes. "They said they accepted one demon, so—I don't see why they wouldn't accept you, unless their Master's a prick like Salami." 

"But I'm an Upper Moon, Star. I did lots of . . . bad things. I hurt many people. Ms. Kanroji said the demon they accepted didn't eat not one human after she turned. There's—a huge difference." 

"Huge difference or not, I won't let anyone hurt you or hurt us. You're ass is glued to mine whether you like it or not." 

Doma chuckles softly. "I think I like it. A lot." 

"Those things you said about me and did for me—it really touched my heart. To be honest, I didn't think you cared about me that much." 

"Why would you say that?" Her eyes widen in disbelief. "Dude, I care about you more than my own life."  

"I know, but—I don't know. My emotions are just being a bit witless right now. But, anyway, I do have a serious question because I'm genuinely very scared and concerned . . . what in God's name is a fartknocker?!" 

Charli almost instantly busts out laughing. 

“Pfft! Oh my God, you sound so funny saying that! I don't know, I just say whatever comes to my head immediately!" 

"Charli . . . I've been alive for a long time. I've read books that had words I never even knew existed. But I have never ever heard of a fartknocker. I love it!" 

"You love it?!" She snickers, looking him up and down. "You're disgusting." 

"Nuh-uh! It sounds funny, it makes me laugh! . . . Ah, jeez. I laugh at the stupidest things. I'm so weird and—immature." He covers his mouth, chuckling and wheezing like a tea kettle. 

"We're both weird, but at least we're weird together." She gives him a playful shove. 

In return, he shoves her back and winks. "I wouldn't wanna be weird with anybody else." 

"You better not. I'd beat the shit outta them blindfol—" Charli's words sever short, and she frantically whirls around after hearing rustling leaves and branches elicit from behind her in the shadowy confined trees. "Uh. You heard that, too, right?"

In the distance within the gloomy forest, the silhouette of a buck could be distinguished, quietly grazing along the grass. His antlers appeared to be fully grown, symmetrically arching outward before curving inward with multiple points spiking out superbly. His tail flickering up and down and side to side. 

"All good, it's just a buck!" Doma smiles. "A lonely buck. Odd. Deer tend to travel in big groups." 

"Go eat him." 

"Wh—what?! No! Leave him be, he's a cutie! Although—I am really hungry . . ." Doma places a hand on his stomach, rubbing up and down. He closes his eyes, and they droop with his mouth squiggling.

"Yeah, exactly. Go eat it before something else does." Charli points out at the buck. 

But Charli ironically jinxed it. Out of the blue, something emerged from the undergrowth tackling the deer down onto the ground ruthlessly, tearing at its neck like a starved lion. Blood jetted out like a fountain, making the deer immediately lose consciousness since the main arteries on its neck were surging blood and punctured brutally. Whatever it was, was able to snap the buck's neck bone with little to no strength, detaching its head from the body. 

It held the buck's decapitated head in its mouth, blood oozing like a faucet. Its mouth appeared to be shaped like a wolf's along with its body and ears, but it wasn't nearly as big as a wolf. Its body resembled a dog.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

★──────★──────★

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐒𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

The Demon Slayer Corps headquarters is where the two Hashira return, one sunny and bright, whereas the other was riled and fuming. 

"Don't be so grumpy, Mr. Shinazugawa!" Mitsuri chimes with glee as they strolled towards the Ubuyashiki mansion. 

"I have a feeling this is going to turn out really great for us!" 

"It's an Upper Moon," Sanemi dismissively protests. "It's killed hundreds, if not thousands of lives. Good lives . . . as Hashira, it's pathetic to follow through with this. I should have minced that demon's head clean off." 

Mirsuri frowns, disheartened. 

"Yeah . . . but if you think about it, if he allies with the Demon Slayer Corps like Nezuko did, he can help us. He can give us information about Muzan. He'll be like our spy!" 

Sanemi didn't utter a word, but it was clear there was some approval of the concept in his head. He merely glances at her before they both kneel down in respect before the mansion's engawa. 

"We have returned, Master Ubuyashiki!" Mitsuri announces courageously. 

"Pleased you have both returned, Sanemi and Mitsuri." Ubuyashiki nods.

"Were you able to find the girl?" 

"Yes! And my theories were right, he did stop eating humans!" With an optimistic beam, her eyes twinkle. 

"The demon has a message it wants us to relay to you, Master," Sanemi spoke his stony tone. 

Ubuyashiki appeared intrigued. His chin flicked down in the slightest with a placid smile. 

"Tell me the message." 

"It wants to meet with you in a blind meeting far from here," Samemi relays. 

"Yeah! Because he said he has no harmful intentions towards you or the Demon Slayer Corps and he wants to gain your trust! He was really kind and sweet!" Mitsuri also relays with both her fists clenched tight, her heart pumping fervently. 

"As Hashira, I thought it was a mindless thing to do, but Kanroji came up with an idea where it works as a spy for us and passes on information about Kibutsuji. His defeat would be right at our fingertips," Sanemi remarks. 

The Master of the mansion grew silent. His humble smile broadened and his demeanor softened.

"Is that so?" he modestly spoke. "To carry on with this, I believe a meeting with the rest of the Hashira would be beneficial. I'd like to know their opinions about this." 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

The creature clutching the severed head of the deer began to sink its powerful teeth into its skull, causing it to shatter and pop instantly. In the shadows, its eyes had a faint, honeyed brown hue. 

"Holy fuck!" Charli flinches and retreats back, throwing a hand over her mouth in horror. 

"What the hell is that?!" 

Doma didn't flinch, nor jolt in any way, shape or form, and he didn't even move from his spot. Instead his cheery, sunny expression very gradually shifted. His lips arch downwards and his eyes droop, making the most saddest face he's ever made. His lips quiver vaguely and his fluorescent eyes glisten with tears.  

"Mr. Buck . . ." he mutters. 

"Dude, get back!" Charli exclaims quietly through gritted teeth as she grabs his wrist and pulls him. 

"What even is that? Is that a wolf? Do wolves even live in Japan? Doma? Hello?!" 

She harshly whispers as she shakes his arm trying to get his attention, but all of it was still focused on Mr. Buck. 

"Huh?" he obliviously utters as his grieved eyes stay put, his lips gaping open. 

The creature's head cocks over, glaring at both of them, its profoundly piercing eyes penetrating through the forest's gloom. More blood spurts down from the buck's head, painting the grass and plants beneath it a vivid red.

With a shriek of terror, Charli shifts behind Doma, seizing both of his arms and backing slowly, taking him with.

"Doma?! Doma!! What the fuck is that?!! It's looking at us! It's a ghost! Do something!!" 

He snaps out of his dejected yet adorable trance and looks behind himself at her.

"Hey, are you using me as a meat shield, Star?!" He arches an eyebrow playfully. 

She pays no attention to his words. Her panicky eyes stay lingered on the glowing-eyed animal, watching it begin to walk towards them out of the forest's tenebrosity. 

"Holy fuck! It's coming towards us!" She screams, latching her arms around Doma's slim waist tight, both her ring finger and pinky fingers brushing along his white belt. 

It slowly emerged from the shadows, relinquishing the buck's head. It hits the ground with a heavy thud, and the animal tilts its head, its pink tongue spilling out of its mouth and the tag on its collar clinking as it swayed back and forth. 

With wide eyes, Charli releases Doma from her robust hold as her consciousness gradually adjusts to her vision. 

"EIGHT?!" she stammers in disbelief and shock. 

"Ocho!" With a joyful yell, Doma raises both of his arms like a kid who had just received candy. 

Eight barks once, his tail swinging from side to side like a wind-up toy. The buck's bright red blood painted across his snout and down his fluffy chest, some even speckled along his front legs and paws. He trots toward Doma, and stands to his hind legs with his paws planting on his stomach. 

"Ocho, how dare you hurt Mr. Buck like that?" Doma jeeringly jokes, both his hands rubbing along his fluffy head. 

"Don't get that blood on me now, bud. Nasty, nasty." 

"Wait a minute . . ." Charli murmurs, slowly backing away. 

"How the f—how the, how'd—" she fumbles over her words in disbelief. "How did he do that?" 

"How'd he do what?" Doma ponders. Eight takes his paws off him and strolls toward Charli, his tail up and wagging elatedly. Terrified, she backs up from him, her eyebrows drawn close. 

"Dude, he just—he just ripped a buck's fucking head off in, like, two seconds! Not even a wolf could do that. Do you know how thick their necks are? And how strong the neck bone is?!" 

Eight stops in his tracks seeming confused. His ears fall flat against his head and he lowers it, a low whimper emitting from him. His wagging tail stops and it slips down between his legs. 

"Ah, well, it's likely 'cause of his strength!" Doma raises his index finger. "You know, since he's a demon, he has double, maybe even triple the strength of a normal dog. He's probably stronger than a lion!" 

Charli's eyebrows shoot up. She takes a step forward and beckons her head with a strained smile. 

"Come again?" 

"I said it's likely 'cause—" His voice trails off after instantly drawing to realization. His sight pulls away from hers and he tucks in his lips.

"Ah . . . right." 

She remains silent for a moment, her agonized, perturbed smile still across her face. She blinks. Three times, and points down at Eight. 

"That dog—is a demon?" 

Eight's head turns from left to right as he sifted between the two, his fluffy tail wagging again with his tongue flopped out innocent as can be. As if he didn't just savagely tear off an adult buck's head from its body. As if he wasn't covered in its vibrant crimson blood. 

A rueful smile fixes up Doma's face and he raises a hand, scratching the side of his head. His nose scrunches. 

"Uhhh—yeah. I kinda forgot to—tell you." 

Charli scoffs and smacks her hands down on her thighs. 

"You forgot? How the hell do you forget to tell someone that?!! Aren't you supposed to have outstanding memory?! This entire time I could have been killed!" 

The dog whimpers again, and even takes some steps back from Charli. His honeyed eyes glisten when he lies down placing his head atop his paws, his tail curling along the side of him on the left side. He gawked up at her giving her a guilty gaze. 

"No, no, Charli! He's a good demon dog, I promise you! He sleeps to maintain his energy, too. And he just killed that buck, so he definitely eats animals instead of humans. It's very interesting to me, I don't recall an animal ever being a demon. I'm not sure how he even became one." 

Doma crouches beside Eight and pats his back. 

"Ochooo, don't be saaad!" he chimes, raising the pitch of his voice. 

Still shook, Charli's eyes glare down at Eight, her arms kept tight to her chest. It took a few moments, but her tensed expression alleviates and her arms drop to her sides. 

"But—his owner. That place he took me to when you were asleep, there was a chick in there and she was dead. Could he have—?" Her lip sneers as she takes another step back. 

His view swishes up at hers. 

"Maybe . . . did she have any injuries?" 

"I didn't look too long to see much, but the only visible injury I immediately saw was her neck; it was, like, torn apart." 

Doma snaps his finger and points it at her, his eyes narrowing. 

"Whaaaam. All dogs'll naturally go for the neck of whatever they attack. They have that primal instinct from their ancestors, wolves. They're super intelligent, so they know that every living creature's weak spot is the neck, 'cause, y'know, there's a bunch of important arteries there and stuff." 

"So he very much could've killed his owner; does that not concern you, like, at all?" She gestures out her hands. 

His head slants to the side. 

"Not exactly. He must've had a good reason to do that. Maybe she didn't treat him right; who knows?"

Eight lifts his head, his attention centered on Doma. His tail swings, once again patting against the ground with his ears rotating back against his head. Doma amiably beams down at him and pats his head. 

"And judging from the way he's looking at me, I think I'm right."

Charli's worried posture relaxes steadily, her eyes diligently observing Eight. She was taken aback over the whole turn of events, but also because she would have never guessed the dog was a demon. 

He lacked any characteristics of one, for everything about him from the very top of his pointy ears to his paw pads was beyond ordinary. Part of her figured any animal that was a demon in all probability would be bigger in size, maybe even more muscular with some silly attributes like horns or three tails, or maybe even a second head. 

But Eight looked normal. Too normal. It was almost frightening. But it makes sense to an extent since there are some demons who don't even look like demons, for instance the winsome one with long platinum blond hair and hypnotic, prismatic eyes beside the canine. He was able to blend into society excellently for so many years, and he still can. 

It's undoubtedly his pointy fangs, sharp nails, the kanji in his eyes and his frigid skin that may cause some speculation. But the majority of people don't even believe that demons exist. They're just deemed as ludicrous tales and folklores. Just like Charli's dad once said, they were myths to scare dumb kids inside after dark.

And yet here she is, best friends with one, and unknowingly adopted one that's a dog. 

She smiles and treads closer before kneeling down in front of Eight. 

"Does he have psionic abilities like you?" 

She rubs his head gently causing his tail to swish side to side. 

"To be honest with you, I'm not sure. Like I said before, he's probably stronger than a lion, or any animal as a matter of fact. But I guess we'll find out if he has a Blood Demon Art sooner or later," Doma says as he stands up. His hand navigates up to his solar plexus, his slender fingers pressing into it. 

His right eye twitches vaguely, feeling a piercing sensation course through his abdomen. 

The worst thing about being weak was that injuries caused him more pain. He didn't even want to imagine how long it'd take to regenerate a severed limb or arm. He turns around, meandering off unwittingly, his sight aimed down. Charli didn't take notice as her attention was centered on Eight, ardently scrutinizing him in search of any unusual facets. She failed to find any, he looked terrifyingly typical. 

"You still smell like cherries. Is that, like, your natural aroma since you're a demon?" she quips with a chuckle. 

After her dramatic freak out had subsided, she was much more enthralled with the dog more than she had been when she first saw him. 

He barks twice and licks her face, making her jerk her head back. 

"Yo, watch it, you got blood all over you," she chuckles. "And that's why you're so smart, huh? And why you didn't want to eat or drink?!" Closing in on the realization, her eyes go wide and Eight barks some more, even whirling around in circles excitedly.

"Holy shit, it all makes sense!" She smacks her hands against her forehead. 

"I'm literally the dumbest person alive. This is crazy, holy—we literally have a demon dog. I'm gonna lose my damn mind. Watch his Blood Demon Art be, like, the ability to talk. We'll just be chilling on your bean bag or some crap, and he'll walk up to us randomly and be like, "Yo, I gotta piss. Take me outside, bitches," or something, right?" she chuckles looking over where Doma once was. Her smile vanishes when she can't find him, and she swivels her head all around before standing. 

"Doma?" 

She then perceives him in the distance sitting down with his shoulder against a tree, his back facing her. Her brows draw close and her head tilts before she hastens over to him. Eight straight away gets up and follows right behind her, his tail up high, trotting merrily. 

She slows down once she draws closer behind him, her hands in her yellow raincoat pockets. 

"Hey, are you okay?" 

He doesn't respond. He's silent for a beat too long for her comfort, but in just moments, he slowly whirls his head to the side, looking at her with the corner of his eye. As soon as he makes eye contact, he spins his head back forward.

"Yeah, I am. I felt weird—for a moment. I don't know. My hands are so shaky." 

"Your hands?" Charli inquires, stepping beside him before sitting down criss-cross just like he was. Her knee rubs against his, and it sparks an electricity up from her stomach to her chest. She couldn't identify it, but just sitting next to him made that same fluttering sensation course through her flesh. 

"I'm not mad at you about you forgetting to tell me Eight was a demon—if that's what it is." 

"I know, it's all right," he mumbles softly. He holds his pale, fidgety hands out, his palms facing up. Charli leans close, her arm brushing against his bicep. She almost wanted to just throw herself in his clutches again. She of course didn't forget their slow dancing session. 

How ethereal and celestial it was, being hypnotized by his opalescent eyes and captivated by his tender, soothing voice. So up close that she could capture every single detail of his tempting face. 

It was a moment of sheer ecstasy, until the Hashira shattered it into a gazillion pieces like fragile glass. 

Eight sits down next to Charli, licking his snout before letting his tongue flop out as he pants. The ruby red blood staining his fur began to dry and harden, progressively averting to a darker tint. 

"I'm not sure what it is, but I often get this strange feeling. My hands start to jitter like this, and I grind my teeth and feel so—afraid almost, I'm not quite sure. I also get nauseous, too, like I'm about to vomit. My eyesight gets all blurred and hazy. I can't control it. It's scary." 

He keeps his head lowered as he explained, his voice dreary and somber. Despite it lacking the usual enthusiasm he always carries, it still sounded effortlessly melodious and soporific. 

If she could, Charli would just eat his vocal cords and leave no crumbs. Her head tilts as her eyes narrow. 

"Could be, like, you're anxious. Or—have anxiety. That kinda sounds like anxiety, actually. That's the type of shit that happened to me whenever I got it." 

"Anxiety?" Doma asks, his eyes trailing up to hers. 

She nods, "Yeah. You usually get it when you, like, worry about shit a lot, or I don't know, if you're in a stressful situation, or if you're scared. So, if you're feeling like that, I'm assuming you're maybe overthinking about stuff?" 

His eyes linger off and he stays hushed for a moment.

"Well—about this whole thing that just happened with those Demon Slayers, I guess I am feeling kind of scared and overthinking it." 

"And have you gotten anxiety before this? Like, did you feel all those things before, like the shaky hands and teeth grinding?" 

He nods. "Yeah. When—uh." He quiets up, feeling rather hesitant.

 "When I took you to my temple. Being there gave me some bad memories, and I hated it, but I was trying my best to not show it because I wanted you to be happy for your birthday. I'll be honest with you, Charli, I really wish I could burn that place to the ground." 

A twinkle of flattery cradles her heart after hearing those words from his mouth. It was a blissful twinge that was mixed with hurt, knowing that despite his hatred for the temple because of his past, he still took her to it for her happiness. She whips up a sad smile. 

"Dude . . . you did not have to do that. I really wish you would've told me, I would have been perfectly fine. What, did you think I was gonna get mad at you or something?" 

"Not mad." He shakes his head. "I just wanted you to have a nice birthday since you've never had one that you really enjoyed." 

Charli sighs, tucking in her lips. A mixture of a variety of feelings stirred in the depths of her chest and stomach. 

"I appreciate that a lot, cariño. But next time, don't take me somewhere that doesn't make you feel comfortable. That's being a people pleaser." 

"Cariño, hm . . . you haven't taught me that one yet," he murmurs, his voice so low it almost rolled out like a whisper. 

"It's a term of endearment," Charli chuckles. "Can mean a few things. Honey, darling, sweetheart, or dear, too." 

His eyes go wide, and his posture straightens out. His back is always shaped like a shrimp whenever he sits criss-crossed; Charli's too, but after hearing that, it was as straight as a pole. He looks at her, his pale cheeks tinging rosy red. 

"Oh," he utters, like he was speechless. In the best way possible. 

For what felt like lightyears, they peered into each other's eyes, like they were figuring out each other's emotions without even needing words. Earnestly and quietly. Her eyes kept finding their way to his lips, then back up at his iridescent gaze, and he noticed it. With the multiple emotions boiling within him, he didn't know what to do. He takes a breath and turns his head away, now leering down at his lap. 

"I wish we would've met as kids. You probably would have cursed out my parents and the entire cult." He shuts his eyes and chuckles with an enlivening smile. 

"I definitely would have," she snickers. "I wasn't as up front as I am now when I was younger, but I was still unhinged, I swear. I woulda beat up that cult, actually, not just curse out." 

"Charli, be honest. Can you even throw a punch?" 

"Wow, that sounded rude as hell." Her brows shoot up.

"My bad, I didn't mean to sound rude, it's only a genuine question," he chuckles. 

"Uh-huh. I wouldn't know because I've never actually tried to punch someone before. I feel like I'd be able to, but it'd probably be hella sloppy." 

"I have a feeling you'd be capable of breaking some teeth." 

"I'd break Salami's teeth. Fucking bastard." She sneers and rolls her eyes. 

"Don't be like that, it's okay." Doma sadly smiles. "He was just doing his job, I take it all into consideration." 

"You're too nice sometimes," Charli says. 

"I know." Doma's gaze shifts down and his smile dissipates. 

"It's not good to be like that all the time. People will just walk all over you like you're a doormat. They'll use you like you're some toy." 

"I know that, Charli." His tone sharpens with his eyebrows furrowing. 

She takes notice to the attitude in his voice and dismisses the conversation, turning her head away, feeling sheepish. It was clear to her that he was fairly sensitive to the topic, so she'd rather sweep it under the carpet than possibly pressure and annoy him. 

She takes in a breath, tilting her head up glimpsing at the sky. Still bombarded with thick gloomy clouds, quiet lightning would travel across them in swift flashes. 

She reaches an arm back, slinging a lock of her hair over her shoulder, peering at the dried out pink ends. 

"Hey, do you wanna go to Amyashima Village? Sun looks like it's not gonna come out any time soon. I wanna buy some hair dye 'cause I actually really wanna re-dye these ends. They look sad. Plus, it'll help get your mind off all this." 

He cocks his head over, looking at her faded ends. He studies them for a moment before he tilts his head up at the sky. 

"Yeah, sure. It'll probably be better to go during the day anyway. Won't have to always be alert for Demon Slayers since the majority of them prowl around at night." 

"Uh-huuuuh, and we can bring Eight, too. You wanna go, Eight?" 

She rubs his head and ruffles up the fur of his neck riling him up. He stomps his front paws and barks, his tail swinging so fast, it could just about fling off; and it'd be okay if it did because it would just grow right back.

"We just have to wash him first. He cannot go to a village with all that blood on him, Jesus. Also, are you gonna eat that deer?" 

Doma gets up and shakes his head. 

"No. I'm fine. I don't feel like getting all messy with blood right now. And I don't wanna go all the way back to the house; we can clean him in the river we always pass when we go to Amyashima."

His faint voice trails away as he turns around walking off, the wind blowing through his hair behind him. 

Charli remains there watching him amble off, her heart clenching with worrisome. 

"He's not doing good," she whispers to Eight. "I've never seen him like this before. It's weird." 

Eight looks at her, his mouth closing with his ears rotating back. He whimpers, nudging his nose against her cheek and she chuckles leaning back. 

"Don't get that blood on me, man. C'mon, let's go."

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

★──────★──────★

𝐒𝐨 𝐀𝐦 𝐈

Chit-chatting voices linger around with the pleasant aroma of all kinds of delightful foods swarming the brisk air of the village, speckles of people going about their day, some walking fast and some slow down the wide walkway with rows of various shops and restaurants lining either side. 

Amyashima was one of the ravish villages that was primarily cluttered with wealthy people. Women wearing dazzling kimonos with twinkling hairpins in their stylish jet black hair and men wearing formal suits. 

Charli always felt like she didn't belong in those villages; they were out of her league. Every woman and young girl her age looked wholly diverse compared to her. They often cared too much about their physical appearance while Charli didn't. She wasn't the type to get all dressed and prettied up all the time, and she hated kimonos. 

She chooses her comfort over trying to look better than her peers, even if it was embarrassing sometimes. To be the only girl wearing hoodies and trousers. But her difference is what Doma liked a lot. 

Walking side by side with a now squeaky clean Eight trotting beside them, they descended down the village.  

"All right, so I'm not sure where there'll be hair dye because I always bought mines from my old village, but I didn't wanna go back to that shithole, so just keep your eyes out for any, like, hair shops or whatever. You, too, Eight," Charli announces, her head swiveling from side to side, peering at every shop and restaurant. 

Eight barks twice, causing some people to bat their eyes over at the three. Some pointed at him and said, "How cute," under their breathes, and some sent him a scathing glare of displeasure. Not everyone is a dog person, unfortunately. 

His collar's tag clinked and jingled as he trotted joyously, his tail and head held up high. Not one soul would think he was a demon, or something that was capable of tearing an adult buck's head clean off in less than ten seconds. And it was the same for Doma. No one would think he was also a demon who withheld mystical powers that are only seen in fantasy novels and comics. And they wouldn't think he had thousands of people's blood on his hands.

He appeared innocent. Far too innocent. He was entirely oblivious to every woman he'd pass by that would sweep him from head to toe and snag him a seductive glance. And he wasn't wrong when he said they would pass out after merely looking at him. A woman he had just passed fell to the ground, being cradled by her friend like she was her bride. 

"Honoka?! Can you hear me, Honoka?!" Holding her in her devastated arms, she cries out dramatically. 

"I—have never seen a man so beautiful . . ." The collapsed girl swoons with her hand held up against her forehead, her eyes dazed and sparkling with rhapsody. 

"Now . . . I can rest in peace. Blegh." She dies. Her eyes shaped as X's, and her tongue hanging out. 

"HONOOOKAAAAA!!" The girl holding her tilts her head back and cries out loud in agony and putrid despair. So mournful (like straight out of a tragic romance movie).

Her cry catches Doma's ears, making his shoulders jolt. He jerks his head back, catching a glimpse of both girls before he whips back forward a confused smile. 

"Amyashima sure is lively today." 

"Should I go hot pink again or a different color? I've only ever gone pink once. I did purple, red, and green like four times when I was younger," Charli says, her eyes staying locked to the shops they were passing. 

"I dunno. I think hot pink fits you well, it makes you look really pretty. But it’d be nice to see you with ano—" Doma's voice trails off when his eyes grab hold of a certain shop. His legs freeze, and immediately he runs toward the parlor to his right, briskly avoiding the oncoming traffic of people streaming down the village, squeezing through them and past them, muttering "excuse me" and "sorry."

Upon arrival to the shop, he presses his face and hands against the glass, his luminous gaze on a particular portable machine on display. 

A black glossy, brand-new typewriter; every single key golden and pristine, giving it an antique, vintage appearance. "Tetsuji" was arrayed across the crown of the typewriter in gold, which looked to be its brand name. Even from afar behind the glass, anyone would think it was lavish and upscale. He could see the reflection of himself and the surroundings behind him in its burnished luster.

Charli didn't notice Doma gone from her side at first, but once she did, she pivoted her head in all directions, spinning around surrounded by strangers. Her anxiety began to boil and dwell at the base of her stomach. She wanted to call out his name, but that would draw unwanted attention to her from everyone around her, and the thought of that nearly made her sick.

Luckily, Eight was still by her side, looking up at her, as loyal as can be, with his fluffy tail going haywire from side to side.

"Where's Doma? Can you find him?" she asks. 

"Sniff him out or do whatever it is that you do." 

In response, he barks once and drops his head down, sniffing the ground. His nose latches onto his scent, and he tracks it, and Charli follows directly behind him, also avoiding the people walking past all around her. 

Her brown eyes soon descry him, and she scurries toward him. She doesn't say a word at first because her sight lingered on the typewriter before them, and perceived how he couldn't take his eyes off it, considering he was still shoving his face into the glass. 

"That's a typewriter, right?" she asks with a smile. "Looks cool as hell." 

"Mm-hmm," he hums in response, sounding muffled. He then pulls his face from the glass, leaving a foggy patch of moisture on it from his breath and he looks at her. 

"My bad, I know we're supposed to be looking for your hair dye. I just really wanted to look at this." 

Charli scoffs and shrugs her shoulders. 

"I don't care, bubs. Look at whatever you want, you aren't, like, being forced to only look for hair dye. What do you think this is, slavery?" 

Doma snickers from her jest and shakes his head. 

"No. Sorry, I just felt like it was some sort of mission for a second because—" As soon as he cuts himself off, he flicks his gaze away, his smile progressively vanishing. 

"Eh—whatever. Never mind. Sorry, again; I don't know what I'm saying." 

He forces a chuckle and takes his hand off the shop's glass before turning away, continuing to stroll down the village. With his blood-red turtleneck and platinum blond hair that spiked out fluffily in numerous regions, he flashily stood out from the crowd. 

He was taller than the majority of men that passed by him and were around him. 

Charli always liked to observe his movements and capture how poise and superlative they were, especially whenever he walked. The way his hakama pants would methodically sway with every stride he took with his long legs. It produced an elegant, divine ambience that levitated around him.  

Her brows draw close in confusion, and she sighs, tucking in her lips. 

"He's been weird like this the whole way here. I don't know if I should talk to him about it or—I don't know. I don't wanna make him mad, but I also don't want wanna just act like I don't care." 

Eight gawks up at her, his ears perked up. He looks toward Doma sauntering off in the crowded distance before he looks back up at her, a soft yip escaping his maw.

"I should talk to him about it?" She smiles, finding it amusing how she's searching for advice from an animal. However, he was an exceptionally clever animal, and understood everything that came from her mouth like the way a human would. 

"Charli," Doma calls from the distance, beckoning his head gesturing her to tag along. He had stopped, his body turned to the side, waiting for her. 

He catches the attention of her and Eight, and they both swivel their heads ahead to his direction before scurrying towards him. 

It doesn't take long for them to catch up, and as soon as she does, Doma turns forward, continuing on walking with both of them on either side of him. Charli kept her head low, her mind not fixated on finding hair dye anymore. 

It was more fixated on him, and if she should talk to him about his emotions and get him to open up more to her. 

But now, frankly, wasn't the best time, with people crowding around and all sorts of ringing noises coming from all directions; some noises coming from busy food parlors— and others from the ladies that kept fainting and dying after merely looking at Doma (they don't actually die, trust). 

It'd be much more beneficial to talk to him sincerely in a private, quiet place, especially since he isn't a fan of blaring noise. She could tell by the tinge of irritation within his expression. He was one for peace and quiet, even though he could be noisy too at times with his boisterous, contagious laughter, but Charli adored it to the brim, and that's all she wanted to hear right now. His laugh, and see his smile. 

His dreamy smile that could light up a city of nightmares. His smile that she wanted to taste and savor in the dead of night 'til the morning light. 

As they paced slowly alongside one another, their hands would occasionally thud against each other from the proximity, until both of them retrieved the same idea. Simultaneously, their hands clutch together, the frigidness of his mingling with her warmth. Their fingers brush together as they interlock and Charli's finger tips dig firmly into his boney knuckles. The sharp points of his nails just barely pierced across her flesh, but it wasn't nearly enough to cause her discomfort. 

"Since you like to read a lot, have you thought about writing your own book? Is that why you were looking at that typewriter?" Charli asks, breaking the stillness between them. 

"I dunno," he tentatively responds. "It sounds like fun, but I don't think I have the creativity for it." 

"Por favor, I don't wanna hear any of that. I know you've got some creativity in that clever head of yours. You should write a horror book with, like, ghosts and shit. I'd love to read that." 

A stifled chuckle emits from him. 

"I'll think about it." 

"Or since you like romance, you could write, like, a romance fantasy one or something, too. With dragons and stuff, that'd be so sick!" she suggests, desperately attempting to make her tone sound more uplifting to raise his spirits. She even gives his hand a squeeze and shakes it lightly.

Although it failed to work. 

"Yeah," he flatly replies, his tone rolling out jaded and somber, the complete opposite of how it always is. 

She didn't like it. Her heart wrenches from his dry tone and downcast demeanor and her smile dissipates. It wasn't like him at all. 

He'd probably rant about the multiple ideas he has stored in his head ecstatically. She wanted him to, but she was getting a rather dull impression from him, like he didn't want to talk, which also wasn't like him. He loves to talk. About anything and everything. 

Nevertheless, she didn't want to pressure him to, so she zips her lips and leaves him be even if it hurt to. She peers over at Eight trotting on the opposite side of him. He gazed at her, his pointy ears falling flat against his head, his honey eyes glistening despondently. 

Charli shrugs at him, tucking in her lips before she returns to her "looking for hair dye" mission, her eyes scouting around every parlor they passed. 

"Doma!" 

An overfamiliar distant voice to the two calls out. Their heads swing to the right side, including Eight's and their sight fixates on a boy behind the counter of an udon parlor deliriously waving his hand. 

"Ah, look, it's Nomura!" Doma's austere expression instantaneously alters, and he looked delighted as can be with a grin from ear to ear, unveiling his pearly fangs. 

Promptly, his slender hand wriggles out of Charli's, and he hurries over to the udon shop, leaving Charli and Eight lonesome in the middle of busy Amyashima. 

Along the front of the udon parlor's dark wooden counter, there were a row of opulent stools with crimson red cushion and wooden legs that matched and complemented the counter, giving the shop a bar-like appearance. He plops himself down on one directly in front of the elated boy, planting both his elbows on the counter and supporting his head up with both his hands that were balled into fists against his cheeks. 

"'Sup, ‘Nomie!" he happily exclaims with a closed-eye smile. 

"Hey! Holy shit, it's felt like forever since I last saw you. You need to stop by more often; I'm so lonely heeere!" Nomura whines, cupping his cheeks and also planting his elbows on counter.

His curly shaggy hair draped along his forehead almost covering his brown eyes with the front portion of it dyed a vibrant lavender and the back dyed jet black. 

 A pair of silver oval shaped glasses dressed his face. 

"I knowww, I'm sorry." Doma pokes out his bottom lip satirically pouting. 

"What's new, though? How's everything? I see you went a different color!" He removes a hand from against his cheek and extends it out, his fingers brushing through and ruffling up the front lavender-dyed lock of the boy's hair. 

"It looks awesome!—Well, to be honest, every color looks awesome on you." 

Blood rushes through Nomura's pale cheeks and he gleams a fiery red as he blithely swats his hand away, earning a hearty laugh from him. 

"Ah! Thank you, thank youuu!" 

It was quite an evident matter, but Nomura did have a thing for Doma. A massive thing. He stopped by at that udon parlor so often over the year to order the glorious yamakake udon for Charli that he befriended some of the staff. 

If truth be told, he made some friends in nearly every village they visited over the year. He grew closer to Nomura more than anyone else, and he had absolutely no idea that Doma was a demon, but he did believe in them. None of the friends he made in the villages knew what he truly was, and he was content with that. He wanted it to stay that way.

"Everything's been all right, though. Boss is always a hard-ass on me, but, ya know. Gotta get used to it." Nomura says, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes. 

"And how've you been?" 

"Ah, I feel that all too well." Doma tilts his head, his eyebrows tilting upwards.

"And you know, I've been chilling! Never been better, actually." He lies straight through his pearly teeth, a carefree, suave smile woven into his face. 

Charli stood where she was on the busy broad walkway, with many people passing by, many of whom were gingerly conversing with each other. 

Her eyes remained focused on Doma and Nomura merrily shooting the shit, feeling a cold stab at her chest. Her eyebrows draw close, her lips shaping to a frown. 

She wasn't nearly as open and outgoing as Doma, so it was hard for her to talk even to people he knew. Her social anxiety constantly held her back like a leash and collar and prevented her from even attempting to put in effort to speak to more people. 

She's content only talking and being with him, so seeing him laugh and chat with other people made her feel a little . . . jealous. A lot jealous. And she knew it was wrong and immature for her to feel such a way, but she couldn't fight the pinching, cold sensation in her chest. 

"Okay," she snappily murmurs to herself as she continued to watch the two, a vexatious lump forming at the core of her throat. 

What bothered her most was how he zoomed away so fast and left her lonesome. Normally when he chats with people in villages, he makes sure she's always at his side, but this time he seems inordinately careless. 

Eight nudges his head against her thigh, a soft whimper emerging from him. 

"It's fine, Eight," she says, navigating her hand down and scratching alongside his head through his fur. 

"Don't even know why I'm getting so mad. I'm just so fucking childish." 

She practically chokes out her words, the lump in her throat only growing thicker. 

Eight barks, followed by a muffled snarl as he nudges his snout into her thigh with more vigor as if he was disagreeing with what she just muttered bitterly. She chuckles softly, scratching the side of his head again. 

"Stop. You're adorable. Let's just wait 'til he's done talking over here." Her eyes flicker behind her, ensuring there wasn't any people crossing past behind her and she walks backwards towards the other side of the village where the long strip of parlors stretched all the way down, and Eight follows her, his tail wagging up high. 

Her back plummets against a durable sheet of glass, making her glance back at it and do a double take. Her vision steadies and sharpens before her sighting of the rows of Walkman cassette players packaged in glossy clear plastic hung on display. 

Turning her attention to her left, she sees the shop door welcomingly open with people strolling in and out. 

She hated buying things on her own, it made her overwhelmingly apprehensive, but she jostled through the tension and ambled into the establishment, Eight following behind her like a tail. 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"And oh my God, Doma, you should have seen the dumbass look on her face. Talking like, "I didn't ask for scallions in my udon, why are there scallions?! This restaurant's service is terrible, always has been, mi-mi-mi-mi-miiiii," and I was just so fucking stunned, like, lady, are you serious? It's only a few pieces of chopped scallion, just take them out? Then, the best part was when she literally threw it at us and it almost hit us. The bowl shattered, and the udon got all over the floor. I was so pissed off, I was ready to throw a chair at her and lose my job." Nomura rants, his left arm resting on the counter as his right gestured as he spoke.

Doma snorts, choking out a surprised laugh. “You should have thrown a chair at her! I would’ve thrown a table. That’s insane how she threw it at you guys over some scallions. That’s considered assault! Should’ve called the po-po.” He gestures a phone with his fingers, propping it against his ear briefly. 

"I hate people like that so much. They make a big deal out of everything. Such prima donnas.” 

"I know, right?! And our stupid rotary phone never works, so I never count on it. And you should have seen the way she flipped out when she saw Hira, holy shit. I mean, I get it, maybe it can be a lil' weird to some people to see a cat in a restaurant, but it's not like she's stepping all over the food. Plus, she's a shorthair, they shed less than longhairs."

"Oh, my God, Hira! Where is she?! I wanna say hi!" Doma clasps his hands together, his legs swinging back and forth avidly as they dangled off the tall stool. “I’m sorry to change the subject!” 

"You’re good! She's gonna be so happy to see you." Nomura's eyes flicker with vivacity as he shakes his head. He then turns his view towards the open doorway that lead into the udon parlor. 

"Akane!" he screams, "where's Hira?!"  

"She's here; coming!" A silvery, wispy female voice soon follows after Nomura's and it didn't take long for a woman to walk through the doorway, a precious feline securely held in her grasp. Gingerly, Nomura retrieves the cat from her, and her eyes glimmer over at Doma, her brows shooting up. 

"Doma, it's good to see you, hon. Haven't seen you up here in quite a bit." 

Compared to Nomura, she appeared more mature, reserved and also older. Although almost like his, her black hair was also cut to a shag at shoulder-length with thicker curlier curls, thin faultless eyeliner drawn on her top lashes and a twinkling silver nose ring on the left side complementing her slim nose. 

"Hey, Akane! It's good to see you, too!" Doma's opalescent eyes glisten as his smile widens. 

Nomura escorts the feline, Hira over to Doma, stretching his arms over the counter letting him grab her. She docilely mewed as Doma delicately clutched her in both his frigid hands, bringing her close to his chest. 

"Kitty! Oh, how are you?! Hi, hi!" he happily exclaims. Her petite hind paws planted down on his lap and her front ones on his chest with her slim form stretched out as she ardently sniffed around his face, her long white whiskers tickling his milky skin. With her shorthaired, sleek leopard-like coat, she was a silver bengal cat, her pale emerald eyes as round as marbles. 

Around her neck was a white collar with a small gold bell affixed to it that would faintly jingle with her every movement. 

Her tiny nose and the insides of her pointy ears were as pink as cherry blossoms. 

While purring harmoniously, she rubs her muzzle against his chin, her lengthy tail swinging leisurely. Both Nomura and Akane watched with pleasant smiles. She crosses her arms, her head slanting to one side. 

"She's always loved Doma, right?" she remarks to Nomura. 

He's very quick to agree, nodding frantically. 

"Definitely, nine-hundred percent. You know she turned nine a month ago? Our Hira's getting oooold!" he exclaims to Doma, his bubbly voice whining. 

Her front paws stamp down on Doma's lap, and she lies herself down, loafing on his lap, her ears rotating back in relaxation, a low purr continuing to emit from her. He chuckles at the sighting, teasingly poking her squooshy soft sides with the tips of his slender index fingers to avoid jabbing her with his nails. 

"Oh, my gosh, look at this big fat loaf on my lap. Immaculate loaf! And really?!" His eyes flash back up at Nomura's. 

"Aw, happy belated birthday to her. But y'know, she's still got a long life ahead of her. Most cats can live up to sixteen or eighteen years, so she’s still pretty young!" 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Charli saunters out from the shop holding a brown paper bag, all her fingers curled around its white cotton handles. Eight stood next to her, his gaze glinting in every direction as he viewed all the pedestrians passing with his black nose twitching.

Her vision instantly peers over to Doma, as he was still sitting and conversing gleefully. 

She feels the pestering dull pain in her chest again, rolling her eyes.

"Still talking," she mutters to herself, her cheeks growing hot in irritation. She loathed herself for being so possessive and proprietorial. She wanted to see Doma smile and laugh. She wanted to be the one to make him smile and laugh. So it damaged her heart to see other people do it. 

She didn't want other people to do it, but there wasn't anything she could do about it but brush it under the carpet and try to suffocate it. 

"As long as he's happy, that's what matters," she kept repeating over and over in her head to drown out the jealousy. 

Suddenly, she gets completely absorbed by the sound of girls laughing and giggling nearby, and she blinks over at a group of six girls who were casting humorous, judgmental glances in her direction. Occasionally, one of them would sneak a whisper into the other's ear, which would cause the entire group to laugh. 

Charli promptly flung her head away to avoid eye contact, sensing the thick lump build up at the base of her throat again. 

She knew they were laughing at her. At her body. At what she was wearing. She was still wearing her yellow raincoat, all buttons undone with a black shirt underneath, along with her usual black sweatpants and black and tan zori sandals. 

And on the other hand, they sported posh kimonos of all colors and floral patterns, their black sleek hair styled up lavishly with fashionable kanzashi or silken ribbons. Most of the kanzashi ornaments had flower petals or diamonds dangling. Each of them held a shiny glass of cherry red wine. 

On the contrary, Charli's hair was frizzy and tangled in some portions, and due to bleach damage over the years of hair dyeing, her faded pastel pink ends became kinked and dry. She had blemishes on her face, her lips were chapped, and her skin was different. 

She felt like she didn't belong. 

The sensation of thorns jabbing at her throat was overwhelming, as she tried to hold back the urge to cry, her eyes sparkling as tears prickled them. Déjà vu washed over her, and it was like she was reliving those moments with her past friends. Them laughing at the scars on her arms, them saying her skin color looked abnormal, them calling her a fat pig, them pronouncing different Spanish words wrong on purpose to mock her. 

The girls were glared at by Eight, and he began to growl threateningly with his ears rotated back, his teeth baring. 

"It's fine, Eight," she mumbles, tapping his head. 

"Just ignore them. They're stupid." 

She holds back tears the best she could. They were gradually building up along her bottom lashes, and one measly blink would cause them to cascade down her cheeks. 

Despite her tough and resilient attitude, she was extremely weak when it came to things like this. Tremendously weak. 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"I should giddy up, though. Charli's waiting for me," Doma says as he draws out his arms over the counter, his hands cautiously giving Hira back. Nomura takes her back, holding her in one arm. 

"Awww. Don't forget to visit again, please!" Nomura pleads, frowning. 

"Maybe one day—" he stammers, at first unsure of how to phrase his remark with the rosy red tint on his cheeks vivid.

"Maybe one day we can hang out at my house. And Charli can come, too. I really wanna get to know her!" 

As Doma gets up from the stool, a flicker of brief hesitation dawns on him. He knew their friendship would progress, and going to the comfort of his own home as a demon without him knowing made an unsettling pit arise in his gut. But yet, he truly didn’t want that to sever their relationship. An animated smile shapes his lips and he soon nods, brushing off the shrouding thoughts.  

"Yeah—yeah, that sounds like fun!" 

Akane had disappeared into the restaurant, but she soon reappears, tossing a red bean bun wrapped in plastic on the counter, the plastic wrap having some red markings and kanji designed across it. 

"Here, give this to my Charli girl. I know she loves 'em. It's on the house." 

"Ah, thanks, Akane!" He grabs the bean bun from the counter. 

"She definitely does love these. Buh-bye guys! Bye Hira!" 

With his free hand he gestures a peace sign, winking. 

"See ya, Domaaaaa!!" Nomura also gestures up a peace sign. He then grasps Hira with both his hands and gently holds up one of her pink paws, waving it.

Akane waves, her other hand on her hip. 

"Have a good one, sweetheart. Be safe and stay out of trouble." 

"I will!" Doma calls out indistinctly as he disappears within the crowd of passing people. 

After he fully departs leaving the two in stillness, Nomura bends down, delicately placing Hira on the wooden floor where she rubs her muzzle and body against his leg and against Akane's before wandering back into the restaurant, her tail held straight up high. 

Nomura steps closer to the counter, his palms clasping the edge as he peers over it, discovering a long strand of Doma's platinum blond hair hooked onto a small splinter that protruded out the opposite end of the counter. 

Totally smitten, he reaches over, snagging the strand of hair flailing in the gentle breeze with his pointer finger and thumb, placing it into a small plastic seal bag that magically appeared in his other hand. 

"You're a psychopath," Akane exclaims nonchalantly with a deadpan glare.

"Also do I even wanna know where the bag randomly came from?" 

"SHUT UPPP!!" Nomura's cheeks flare bright red. 

"It's just for—safe keeping, you know? Hee-hee-heeeee!" He rubs the bag that held Doma's strand of hair against his face, just about ready to drool. 

Akane sighs, shaking her head before face-palming as she watched him obsessively swoon over his crushes' piece of hair. 

Navigating through the crowd of people, Doma ultimately locates Charli, sauntering up to her. 

"I'm back, sorry. I just wanted to stop by and say hi to No—" 

"Come on, let's go home," Charli grouses, choking back tears as she turns away from him, walking down the broad walkway after impolitely cutting him off. 

Doma stays idle at his spot, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in puzzlement as he watched her stride away. 

He peers down at Eight who was gawking up at him with glistening eyes, his ears down flat in woe. He then looks back up toward Charli and he pursues after her, the demon canine following right beside him. 

"Wait, Charli, why? Don't you wanna get your hair dye?" he inquires as he catches up to her. 

"No, it's fine. Forget about it," she mumbles, her voice firm yet achey as her sight was kept at the ground. 

"But why? We just have to walk a little more, it’s gotta be here somewh—"

"Just forget it!" Charli finally snaps, halting dead in her tracks and glaring back at him with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

"Can we please just go?!" 

She then swings back forward, rubbing her raincoat sleeve across her tearful face, stamping away. 

Her yell caused some perplexed faces to gape in their direction, but she was utterly oblivious to it right at that moment. 

Doma's heart nearly broke in two with his emotions crumbling abruptly, feeling a prodding sensation in his stomach and chest. His eyebrows tilt upward with his lurid eyes glistening as tears stung them like needles. Eight whimpers, continuously glancing between the two, not liking the scene. 

"Charli," Doma utters despondently. "What's the matter? Did something happen?" He follows after her once again. 

"No, Doma. It's nothing. Let's just go," she flares back through her croaked voice, the lump in her throat practically choking her. 

"It's not nothing." Doma reaches out, grabbing her arm and stopping her. She tries to snatch her arm out his grasp, but his hold was much stronger. He looks to his right, taking a glimpse of an alleyway that cut between the long strip of parlors and he pulls her in it away from the crowd, Eight right by their side. 

"Can you please just stop?!" Charli blusters, attempting to escape his grasp and push him away.

"No, Charli. You stop." Doma's voice becomes assertive, his brows furrowing. He safely stores the wrapped red bean bun in his hakama pants pocket before he clutches both her arms in his wintry clasp, her back plunged against the wall of the alleyway. He kneels down onto the ground on one knee, his head slightly tilted up at her. 

"Tell me what's wrong. I know something's wrong. Charli, I haven't seen you cry since—your parents." 

"It's nothing, Doma," Charli weeps through her brittled, congested voice, her entire face drenched in her tears as she pivoted it away from his view. Some tears would trickle from her chin and land on his pants, leaving dark spots in the tan fabric. 

"No, it's not. Tell me what happened. Would you look at me, please?" 

His voice was tender and benevolent, shedding some fluttering light in her heart of anguish. He lets go of her right arm, raising his hand to her face, wiping away her tears from both her cheeks and turning her face to meet his. His thumb was effortlessly smooth and velvety across her skin. 

She sniffles and hiccups twice, shaking her head. 

"It's—just—nothing . . . stop," she spurns, batting his hand away.

The laughter of the girls catches her attention again, and she looks out the alleyway in the distance, watching them jest and mock, a shuddery breath leaving her throat. 

Doma discerns her looking elsewhere, and he swivels his head around, catching sight of what she was focused on. He distinguishes the spiteful group of girls, and he almost immediately knew what was wrong.

He knew they were laughing about her. 

A sharp sigh leaves him as his expression hardens, and he lets go of Charli's arm, getting up from his knelt down position, tramping out the alleyway and down towards them, his hair flailing behind him. 

Charli's eyes widen, and she wipes her tears away from them, clearing her blurry vision with her fist before she watches him, her heart pounding in sheer anticipation. 

Doma stops in front of the group of unkind friends, receiving their full attention. All their eyes flash up at his in confusion. 

"Oh, uh—hi," one in the middle says, checking him out from head to toe before emitting him an alluring smirk. 

The girls incoherently snicker and giggle to each other, covering their mouths with one hand as the other held their wine glasses, the wine rippling steadily. 

"Hi," Doma says, the huge smile on his face terribly sarcastic and fumed. 

"Wanna see a magic trick?" he inquires, his hands digging into his pockets and retrieving his golden war fans, causing the girls' expressions to change. Gradually. 

"Voilà." He holds both war fans straight up side by side, the green tassels swiftly swaying. 

"Abracadabra!" 

Both fans then pride open simultaneously, immediately causing all of the girls' wine to freeze up and explode, prompting all of the glasses to shatter in their grasps. The sharp shards of glass fling in almost every direction, jabbing into their skin and eyes. 

All of them flinch and scream piercingly, covering their face with their hands, all the sharp pieces of glass clattering to the ground. 

"My eyes!" they shriek and wail harshly, gaining the attention of almost every individual passing by, and it was like time itself had stopped when every pedestrian in the area stopped and stared, gasps coming from all directions. 

Nomura and Akane also glanced over to see all the sudden commotion, but they weren't able to see because of all the turmoil caused by the crowd of people that had gathered. 

Speedily, Doma shuts his fans, shoving them back in his pockets before twirling around and dashing away towards Charli, whom was peaking out of the alleyway with Eight, her face one of astonishment and amuse. 

 He snatches her hand in his own and tugs her along, pushing through the crowd, scurrying away from the trouble he created. 

"Run!" he shouts before hysterically laughing.

Eight raced beside them, barking from time to time with his tail wagging rebelliously and through her congested voice, Charli laughed, frequently sneaking looks behind her as he pulled her. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Conclusively, the three safely escaped the abrupt commotion and were all walking side by side in silence through the forest trail that lead them home. The village of Amyashima was still visible in the vast distance behind them as they trailed further and further from it. 

Charli was munching on the red bean bun that was given to Doma by Akane, her eyes puffy and red with cheeks stained by parched tears. 

Doma was focused, reading the directions written on the back of the box of hair dye he held in his grasp, his eyebrows drawn close with his eyes narrowed as he carefully read. 

While sprinting through the village, they happened upon a hair parlor that sold all kinds of hair products and hair pins even, and they located the hot pink hair dye and bleach. 

He finishes reading, and he drops the box of dye in the brown paper bag that hung off his forearm, his eyes darting down at Charli's own paper bag she held in her other hand. 

"Are you at least gonna show me what you bought there?" Doma breaks the silence that stuck between them the majority of the time after all the racket. Although he didn't sound bitter in any way, he was genuinely curious with a bonny smile. 

There was some awkward tension that was built around them as a result of their conflict. It was an uncalled for an unordinary event, considering they never really had any profound problems or arguments in the past. There were only a few playful, satirical fights that were not taken seriously and were tremendously amusing and lighthearted.

Charli softly scoffs, smiling before swallowing down her last bite of the red bean bun, shoving the wrapper in her raincoat pocket.

"Yeah, I, uh—" She next opens the bag, taking out the Walkman stored in the glossy plastic.

"Actually bought this for you. It's a Walkman." 

He goes wide-eyed, his head tilting to the side with curiosity.

"—Walkman?" He gingerly grabs it from her, scrutinizing it up close. 

"Yeah." She nods. "You don't know what a Walkman is?" 

He looks back at her and cluelessly shakes his head. 

She chuckles. 

"Figured. It's a basically a music player thingy. You put cassette tapes in it and they play all kinds of music; you wear the headphones to listen to it. And I also got you some tapes." 

She rummages in the bag, retrieving a plastic wrapped pack of a row of cassette tapes varying of all colors. 

"These are all songs I listened to a lot before. There's a few I don't recognize, but—y'know, you might like them. I used to have a Walkman, like, three years ago, but my dad decided to be a dick and break it and all my tapes because—" She shrugs, smiling. "He loved breaking shit that meant a lot to me." 

Doma takes the pack of cassette tapes from her in his other hand, keenly studying both items back and forth peculiarly. 

"You bought these for me?" 

"Yes," she chuckles. "I also bought you this, too." She retrieves the last item from the bag, a notebook. The spine was a deep mahogany red with the front and back cover black. 

A black pen with floral accents was equipped to the spine, and in the center of the notebook, "Embrace your stardust" was printed in a gold aesthetic font. 

"It's a notebook. I tried to find one that would match your signature colors. The other ones were, like—pink and purple with glitter and shit," she snickers.

"A notebook?" He peers at it, instantly growing fond of its design. 

"Yeah, uh," she stammers, "it helps sometimes to, like—write down stuff that's hurting you or whatever. It's therapeutic in a way. And y'know, you don't only have to write down negative stuff; it can also be positive stuff, like what you did on a certain day that was really fun or something." 

Doma's walking draws to a freeze, leading Charli to halt beside him. His eyes glimmer as he sifts through all the items she bought him, and a sheepish, crooked smile slowly creeps up on his lips.

"You can write down anything in here. And I promise I won't look through it. It's—It's gonna be your privacy." 

"Thank you, Charli," he says, his voice soft and resonant. 

"Really, thank you. You’re so sweet." 

She nods and drops her gaze from him, the heat in her cheeks intensifying. 

"Yeah—no problem. I'll show you how the Walkman works and everything when we get home." 

"I'm excited!" he exclaims. "I've never seen one of these before nor do I recognize any of these song names. I'm not too familiar with music, honestly, but I really wanna listen!"

"Trust me, I think you'll love those bangers," Charli chuckles. 

"But don't forget, you're helping me dye my hair when we get home." 

"Yes, ma'am!" He ecstatically winks. 

Her chuckle is softly audible, and she drops the notebook in the bag before holding it out to him, opening it wide. 

"Here, you can put those back in here." 

As per her instructions, he drops the pack of cassette tapes and Walkman into the bag. 

"Okey-dokey. Also, Charli, I don't know what those girls said to you, but—there's nothing wrong with your body, as I've said before." 

"I know." Her eyes were glued to the ground.

"They didn't even say anything, they were just laughing. I'm just so sensitive to that shit. Haven't really, like—grown out of it." 

"Hey, that's okay." He places a cold reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

"Don't beat yourself up for being sensitive because, hell, I am, too. And it's okay to be different, Charli." 

She raises her gaze, leering up into his pearlescent eyes that held an ample of warmth and sincerity. 

"Would you rather be normal? Being normal is boring, and normal people are boring. Scary, in fact." With a wry smirk, he raises his eyebrows. 

She snickers and chuckles, nodding. 

"You're right, they are pretty terrifying." 

"Mm-hmm. It's all right to feel like an outcast and be weird. 'Cause so am I." His smile was endearing and candid. 

"Remember what you said? We're weird together." 

She takes a moment to process his words before nodding, her heart thrashing beneath her flesh. Every now and then, her eyes would shift up and down at his lips before she bit her own. 

It was usual for her to tell him she loved him every now and again, so naturally, she wanted to tell him, however she felt something yanking her back. A trembling, timid sensation that was getting the best of her. 

Gazing up at the two, carefully scrutinizing them, Doma casts a glance down at Eight who was sitting directly by his leg. Patting his head, he chuckles. 

"All three of us are a bunch of weirdos. Right, Ocho?" 

With a contented bark, the demon dog agrees, his tail wagging wildly. 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

★──────★──────★

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐱𝟐

"It pleases me that you've all arrived at such short notice," Master Ubuyashiki begins.
Within the Ubuyashiki mansion, yellow-tinted chochin lanterns arrayed on either side of him as he sat on his shins with his daughters beside him. The dim gleam of the lanterns created a etherial atmosphere, casting a glow to every Hashira's face.
On their shins as well with their sheathed swords positioned beside them on the wood floor, they stood before him, a few having perplexed faces.

"What is this Upper Moon that we're supposedly going to be working with?" The Serpent Pillar spoke, the pitch of his voice filled with uncertainty and vexation.
"The information I heard is already giving me a headache. Why would we trust a single word said by a demon closest to Kibutsuji?"
The white snake around his neck moved about ever so often, flicking out his tongue with the profound redness in his eyes ethereal.

Ubuyashiki only smiles at his words.
"I apologize for surprising you all. Recently I had sent Sanemi and Mitsuri on a mission, and they returned with a fascinating discovery. An Upper Moon that had stopped attacking humans and relied on animal meat."

Nearly every Pillar lurched forward wide-eyed, even some gasps slipping from their lips. Within their time as Demon Slayers, they've never heard such a thing. Sure, there was the trial with Nezuko and Tanjiro, but hearing that from a Twelve Kizuki was enough for them to cast some surprised glances.

"How do you know it stopped killing humans?"
The Mist Pillar turns his view toward Sanemi and Mitsuri. He was one of the few whose face was somber and shallow. Unsurprised. It matched with the dull tone in his voice and the jaded appearance in his pale turquoise eyes.

"We spoke with him!" Mitsuri pridefully answers.
"He was really nice and wants to gain Master Ubuyashiki's trust by having a blind meeting! He didn't try to attack at all, not even a single intention! And he's even friends with a girl! I can tell their friendship is super sincere!"

That last portion of information leaves the Insect Pillar looking baffled.
Although it was truly complex to figure out what her genuine feelings were behind the almost unsettling glimmer in her amethyst eyes.

"That's an absurd raving," says the Serpent Pillar.
"For all we know, it could alert Kibutsuji once it meets with Master Ubuyashiki."

"Well, that's why we'll all be there!" The pink and green girl protests, affirmed with confidence.

"That plan is nonsense," he retorts. "That would be a pathetic thing to carry on with as Hashira."

"It is," Sanemi agrees.

"What if we blindfold him? He won't be able to know where he's at, or even see Master Ubuyashiki! It'll be just like the Swordsmith Village! You know, you have to be blindfolded when you get carried there by the Kakushi!" Mitsuri states, her fists balled together.
She truly trusted Doma and wanted to try her best to get every Hashira to comply, even if it was going to be tedious.

The Mist Pillar had no other words to counter with. And the Water Pillar was quiet. To himself with his view aimed downwards to the floor. It's how he always was in every Hashira meeting. He wasn't one for serious debates or discusses. In fact, he wasn't one to be around many people at all, even if they were his comrades.

Clapping his hands together with the red mala beads worn around them colliding together, the Stone Pillar opposes.
"I cannot consent. The unfortunate girl must be saved before it is too late . . . she must be rescued from the possession of the demon," he spoke his resonant yet humble voice while continuing to mumble incoherently under his breath, tears coursing down his face from his white eyes.

"What rank was it anyways? The higher the rank it is, the more untrustworthy it should be," inquires the Serpent Pillar.

"Upper Two," Sanemi answers with a glower. "Despite it being a pathetic plan, Kanroji brought up how if it were to ally with us, it could relay us information about Kibutsuji."

"And how would we get it to do that?" He waves a finger, disinclined.
"Just because it stopped killing humans, we're going to risk the entire head of the Demon Slayer Corps?"

"What did the demon look like?" The Insect Pillar chimes in with her gentle voice. It was gentle, yet there was some disquieting apprehension within it. There was something about the rank number that stuck out to her best of all.

"He had really cool rainbow eyes! They were so pretty!" the Love Pillar returns.
"And his hair was whitish blond, and on top of it was a red and black marking! Not too sure what it exactly was, though!" She holds her fist just below her mouth with her cheeks glowing rosy red.
"And he was so cute! So cute!" she continues to herself within her head.

The brief description sent a chill down the purple petite girl's spine. Her eyes went wide and pale, like she had just witnessed a loved one parish. Said loved one was what crossed her mind instantly. And the one who was responsible for her death.
Her small hands balled to fists with a singular vein unveiling at the corner of her forehead as she casted her head down, feeling too sick to even speak another word.
"That demon is responsible for my sister's death, Kanae.” 

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Taking lenient steps, one in front of the other, Charli was ambling towards Doma's closed bedroom door, the weight on her shoulders crucial. Despite his encouraging words on the way home that seemed to lift the tension just enough for her comfort, it didn't last long. It returned the moment they continued down the pathway home, and got even worse once they got there. He had disappeared in his room after she showed him how to work the Walkman and switch the tapes, though he did tell her to let him know once she was done mixing the bleach together.

Truth be told, she was overthinking the situation to the brim. He seemed like he didn't want to help her dye her hair, but she really wanted him to. Not only that, she just wanted to talk to him. The dire lump in the core of her throat snowballed up to where she could barely breathe as her palm clutches the cold pristine gold knob of his bedroom door.
It was definitely an emotion she despised feeling. Feeling scared to talk to him. Continuously thinking if she even should; or if she should leave him be.

But then that would make it seem like she doesn't care about him.
She takes a breath after swallowing down her worries and priding open that door, taking in the characteristics of his room once more and getting a glimpse of him sitting on the far edge of his bed, his back facing her. Running along her senses was the delicate aroma of the vanilla candles on his dresser. Astonishing how they were even still lit. Well, barely. Their flames were awfully subtle, yet still provided flickering light to the corner of the room.

She could hear the vague music emitting from the Walkman's grey and black retro underwire headphones that were on his ears, pumping an uplifting beat that she couldn't put her finger on. She figured it was one of the songs in the pack that she didn't know. From side to side, he gently bobbed his head rhythmically with the music, his velvety hair swaying with every movement, and settled in his lap was the notebook she had bought him. As he wrote the way into his heart, the sound of the pen scratching along the beige-tinted deckled paper was also lingering within his room.

Charli wondered what he was writing about. But she couldn't ask him. She promised she wouldn't be nosy. But then again it isn't terrible to just simply ask. Better than snooping through the notebook behind his back when he isn't around. Asking would just signify that she cares. And in times like this, all she wanted him to know is that she cares.
Before she could even take one last step into his room, Doma's head bobbing draws to an end and he slowly whips his head around, their eyes instantly locking onto one another.

"Oh shit," Charli barely mumbles as she nearly jolts, certainly not expecting him to turn around. A wave of embarrassment and awkwardness clutters her as she taps her hands against her thighs, her eyes darting at every single object around his room desperately trying to avoid eye contact.
"Sorry, I didn't think you'd hear me, I was just—"

"It's okay." A chuckle slips from his lips, and he reaches for the Walkman placed on the bed by his hip, pressing the pause button. The faint music ends and he pulls the headphones down the back of his head letting them hang around his neck.
"What's up, Star? Did you finish mixing everything?"

"Yeah, I did. Just the bleach, though. Uh—" Her words fall flat as her legs take her toward the other end of his room where the ice sculptures on shelves were kept. She takes notice to one in particular, and it somehow made her heart ache with afflictive woe. The one of her that he had made quite some time ago now. The one he made when he had first revealed his abilities to her. The day after she came across him in the woods.

She often thought about those days compared to now. Especially the first day she countered him. How scared she was to even get close to him and now all she wants to do is be close to him. How much he changed since then.
Sometimes she still felt like she was living in a dream. A lucid dream that she had to complete before waking up. And once she completes it, she'll awaken in her old bed in her old house with tears cascading down the sides of her eyes onto her pillow.

She never wanted to wake up from it. And she prayed nobody would ever wake her up. She wanted to stay asleep forever. Live in this dream forever. Her index finger traces along the lowest wooden shelf, and to her surprise she felt fuzzy dust at the tip of it. There has never been a single particle of dust nearly anywhere in Doma's house, especially his room.
He's always been a clean freak.

She rubs her thumb and index finger together before taking her view off the sculpture of her and settling it on his cushy crimson red-sheeted bed.
"You don't have to help me dye my hair if you don't want to, you know. I've done it myself so many times before, I just figured it'd be fun."

"No, no, it does sound fun," he protests. He shuts the notebook setting it aside on the bed with the pen lied in the center of the cover, and he removes the headphones from around his neck, also placing them on the bed beside the Walkman.
"I just wanted to try the Walkman out a bit. I really like it to be honest."
His soft-spoken voice fulfills the room as he gets up, his hands fumbling together, almost like he was antsy.
"Also, I didn't hear you, by the way."

"What?" Charli's eyebrows draw close in the slightest.

"You said you didn't think I'd hear you. I didn't, I just sensed you. My senses are really rusty, but I can still sense when someone's nearby, or like—if someone's a Hashira."

"And what's a Hashira?"

"Highest rank in the Demon Slayer Corps," he answers, folding his arms. "The Demon Slayers have ranks similar to demons, but there's a lot more. I dunno all of them, but the highest is the Hashira, and that's what Mr. Shinazugawa and Ms. Kanroji both were."

"Jesus, man. How do you even pronounce that name? Sounds like a disease," Charli snickers, shaking her head.

"Charli—stop," he snorts after rolling his eyes. "I know he wasn't very nice, but you need to respect him. He saves lives."

"Saves lives my ass. C'mon." She beckons her head before making her way towards the door.
"So you like the Walkman so far? You already got a favorite song?"

With a closed-eyed smile, Doma frantically nods, and he hurries alongside of the bed, following beside her.
"Mmm-hmmmmm! The one I was just playing. It's called Midnight Summers. I listened to every song in the pack while you were doing your hair dye stuff and that one really caught me I guess I could say. I keep listening to it over and over again."

"Ah, yeah, that's one I don't recognize. I kinda heard it though, the beat sounds cool."

"Yeah, it is! The words are sorta sad and happy . . . kind of like—what's the word? Bittersweet. Yeah, bittersweet. And the beat is so groovy. I think I like it a lot."

"You think?" Charli snickers. "Also, "lyrics" is what the words are called in a song."

"Lyrics, right. And I dunno." He shrugs. "Sometimes I dunno if I like something or not. I haven't exactly figured that out with my emotions yet."

A sad smile casts across her lips and she nods. Hearing that made it feel like someone hurled a spear straight through her heart. She often forgot he never felt emotion before he met her. And now it must be mystifying to discover new likes and dislikes with so many diverse feelings. But what pained her the most was that he couldn't even decipher whether or not he liked something.
"I get it. But if you keep replaying it and you bob your head to the beat like you were just doing, you definitely like it. Music gives you a shit ton of dopamine. It was one of my only ways to escape reality back when I was with my parents."

"That makes sense; I see the appeal. Did you have any other ways? To escape reality," Doma inquires as he ambles into his bathroom after her. Spread across his pristine gold and marble vanity was a mess of hair dye stuff. Containers and bottles of the dye and bleach, the empty boxes, color mixing bowls, hair color brushes and black latex gloves. One of the mixing bowls was already set and mixed with the bleach, creating a pungent chemical odor that invaded the bathroom.
As a reaction to the fetid stench, Doma's nose scrunches with his eyebrows drawing close.
"Oh, my goodness, is that the bleach that smells like that?! Charli, is that even safe to put on your hair?"

"No," she chuckles wittily with a shrug. "As you can see by my lovely faded ends, it fucks up your hair pretty bad, but I could care less at this point."
She dips the color brush in the mixing bowl, giving the bleach a few more stirs.

"And . . . if you keep applying this bleach to it, you're certain it won't just fall off?" he asks, only half-joking. He retrieves the pair of black latex gloves, slipping them both on like he was some iniquitous, evil doctor. His long nails protruded through the rubbery material seeming to almost pierce through it, and his hands were vast but they were eminently slender, so the gloves appeared baggy and loose-fitting.
Next he rolls up his turtleneck sleeves to his elbows, his pale-toned forearms glistening in the light's gleam.

"I mean, damn, I'd sure hope not. Also do you wanna dye your hair, too? Since your hair's platinum, that pink dye will come out vibrant as hell," she jokingly questions as she takes a seat on the closed toilet seat, still stirring the bleach.

Doma tucks in his lips before wittily giving it some thought before he shakes his head.
"I think I'm good, Star." He smiles, unveiling his pearly fangs.

"You sure?" Charli's voice lowers as she hands him the mixing bowl, her head tilted up. The clear visible beam on her face was obvious she was only messing around.
He grabs the bowl from her grasp and nods.
"Yeah, I'm totally sure. Now then, I'm supposed to stroke the brush against the faded ends, right?—Well, all right now, let me not use the word stroke. That sounds weird."

Charli's nose scrunches and she chuckles.
"I mean—essentially, yeah. Stroke that shit like you're painting or something."

“Don't say that word." Doma playfully knees her in the ribs. He then places the bowl down onto the vanity before grabbing the color brush and separating a lock of her hair, dabbing the brush along the faded end and coating it with the whiteish-grey runny bleach.

She tries to dodge his knee by jerking her stomach back, but she fails and sucks her teeth.
"What? Stroke? What's wrong with stroke?"

"STOP," he raises the pitch of his voice before chuckling. "It sounds weird!"

"Nah." She shakes her head. "You're just a nasty ass dude. It's because of all those smutty novels you be reading."

"Hey, now." He beckons his head, the tone of his voice sounding awfully offended. "Leave the books out. They don't effect my judgement on certain words. It's the same thing as you not liking the word boobies."

"I will forcefully spoon-feed you that bleach if you say that again."

"Yeah, exactly! You don't mind the word boobs, but—boobies?" His voice really emphasizes "bies" and it gives Charli the inane urge to laugh.

"Y'know, I think I'd like to dye my hair on my own now," she jests.

"Okaaay, okay, I'm sorry. You get my point, though. And now that I think about it, where's Ocho?"

"On your bean bag sleeping again. That's his new home now. Better evict him as soon as possible," Charli answers, crossing one leg over the other as she squirms every now and again. Re-dyeing her hair was always exciting for her.

"Ah." He whimsically shrugs his shoulders. "He can stay for awhile."

"Oh, but when I don't even get anywhere near the ten minute rule, you kick me out? You're so full of shit," she teases.

"I'm the landlord, I do as I please," Doma teases right back.

"All right . . ." Charli rascally grimaces with a scoff.

Doma retorts with nothing but an indistinct snicker as he continues to apply the bleach along her faded ends, occasionally detangling some portions of her hair with his gloved fingers.
Dip the brush in the bowl and apply, do it again, do it some more. Dip, apply, dip, apply; it went on for some time in utter silence, and the awkwardness flooded and circulated around again like an uncalled for tsunami.

Accompanying the silence was Charli's hands tapping against her thighs every so often, and Doma's mellow breathing that she could audibly hear since he was so close to her. His breathing alone was effortlessly pacifying to the ears, every single thing about him was. His presence, his voice, his contagious smile.
It was bizarre how much he had altered. Her entire adventure from the very start when she had first met him in the woods was bizarre.

But she was profoundly infatuated with it. She's always wanted change in her life from the very beginning, but she never anticipated the change to be this broad.
Nonetheless, she wanted to savor the change and never let it go.
She reaches her hand out, tracing down along the black lines imprinted on his hakama pants with the tip of her pointer finger.

"Were you okay today at the village?" she musters up through the silence.

"Hm?" he hums, ceasing the dip-and-apply order before tilting his head down towards her view. His eyes dart further down to her finger tracing along his pants unwittingly, and he smiles. He peers into her eyes again and proceeds with the repeated pattern, coating her dried out ends with the potent bleach. He shrugs.
"Yeah, I was."

"Really? I mean—before you ran off to talk to Nomura, you seemed weird, I don't know." Charli's voice simmers down to just below a whisper.

Doma twitches oddly. His smile structures to a frown promptly and he nods with his eyebrows edging close.
"Yeah, I was all right. Also I'm almost done here. Just a little more. This takes so long, my goodness. I don't even wanna imagine how long bleaching all of your hair would take." He swiftly changes the subject.
She didn't like how he straightaway changed it, but she felt there was nothing that could be done. She nods and forces a chuckle.
"Yeah, it's hella time consuming. Then next after I wash it out, I gotta put the dye on, but don't worry, I'll do it."

Doma just nods and Charli tucks in her lips with an inaudible sigh leaving her. She was mightily clueless on how to go about sincerely talking to him and she wasn't fond over it. He always knew how to talk to her and lift her spirits whenever she was feeling blue, but couldn't reciprocate it.
And that's what friends should do; give and receive.
Ultimately after he finished up applying the bleach fully coating her dulled ends, he had left the bathroom and disappeared back into his bedroom without saying anything else other than, "All done."

It worried her. The vexatious lump formulated at the base of her throat, choking her for the rest of her re-hair dyeing session. After letting the bleach sit for about forty minutes, she rinsed it out in Doma's stand-up shower and shampooed and conditioned afterwards, leaving her thick long hair silky and slick.
The bleach winded up appearing as a yellowish golden blonde shade, which left her feeling a bit glum because the dye won't come out very vibrant, but nevertheless she was still happy to have re-colored hair finally.

Next after letting it dry up some, she gets the hair dye locked and loaded in the other mixing bowl.
Before leaving, Doma had taken off the black gloves and tossed them on the vanity, and she decided to wear them to avoid possibly staining her hands like she has always done in the past.
They still felt rather frigid from his wintry skin, and it was a rather pleasant feeling.

Soon the same process began. Dip, apply, dip apply, dip apply. And some more.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

"Okay. Let's see how this came out."
Charli steps close to the vanity gaping into the fogged up mirror. After just finishing rinsing off the dye and letting her hair dry a bit, it was finally time to see the outcome.
She reaches forward and plummets her hand against the mirror, wiping clear a spot where she'd be able to get a broad view of her whole hair.
The overall color resulted in a delicate toned magenta leaving Charli not as disappointed as she thought she'd be.

She liked it. She tilts her head from side to side, her expression gradually altering to a satisfied beam.
"So fucking cool," she mutters.
Its gentle tinge complemented her deep tan-toned complexion and penny brown eyes.
"Only thing that needs to be fixed now is my nose. Too damn big." She takes her hand off the mirror and gives her bulbous nose a squeeze.

She swings to the right, pridefully marching out Doma's bathroom before yelling, "Doma! Look how my hair turned out!"
She meanders toward his once again closed bedroom door, giving it a few knocks before yanking it open and letting herself in.
"It came out as like a mag—" She cuts herself off midway when she finds him no where to be seen on his bed.

Taking a few more steps in, her eyes glare around, puzzled seeing him no where in sight.
"Doma?"
Soon, she hears the faint upbeat tune of Midnight Summers near his bed, and her eyes catch hold of locks of his pointy platinum hair poking out the far edge of the bed.
Her eyebrows draw close as a smile spreads across her lips, and she walks along the side of the bed towards the side.
"What are you doing?"

Sitting with his back against the side of the bed, he had his legs hugged to his chest with his face buried into his knees, the Walkman headphones blasting the song he progressively grew fond of in his ears.
Charli's smile fades, and she kneels down beside him, tapping his bicep.
"Doma? Hey, you okay?"

Upon feeling the taps on his arm, he lifts his face from his knees, his pale porcelain cheeks shiny, and his opalescent eyes glossy with tears.
Her heart almost instantly rips apart into shreds and she tilts her head, giving his bicep a squeeze.
"What's wrong?"

Hearing that question only made more tears cascade down his glistening face. He puts his music to a pause, pulling the headphones down and letting them hang around his neck before he shakes his head.
"I'm sorry," his brittled voice spoke.

"Sorry for what, bubs?" The squeeze she has on his bicep tightens.

He shakes his head again before turning it away from her view, shutting his eyes tight.
"I've—just been having a really bad day." His voice was so diverse from how it usually sounds, even compared to not so long ago when he was sad sitting at the window watching the rain bathe the woods with Eight.
It was tremorous and incoherent and truly melancholic, breaking Charli's aching heart even more.

She nods her head and sighs.
"I know. I know. Because of those Demon Slayers earlier, I get it—"

"No." He shakes his head, taking a shuddery breath.
"No, Charli. It's not just that. There's just—so much that you don't know about me that I don't want to subject you to because it will put you in a lot of danger."

"Okay—I don't give a shit." Her eyebrows furrow. She settles herself down with her legs criss-crossed, her knee pressed against his thigh.
"Man, as cheesy as this sounds, as long as I'm in danger with you, I don't care. I want to know what's going on."

"You're making a big mistake," he mutters.

"And it'll be the best mistake I ever made. Doma, if you're feeling down, I just wanna make you happier. I want you to see me as someone you wanna run to when you're going through shit. Not someone you wanna run away from."

"I don't mean to run away from you. I just want to protect you from the evil that I am involved with because I care about you so much. More than I should. And I try so hard to be happy, but something inside me screams that I don't deserve it."
He lowers his legs from his chest and wipes his face with the back of his hand, sniffling and Charli reaches out, hooking her finger on his chin and pivoting his face to meet hers.
"You do deserve happiness," she protests.

Doma smiles within the affliction written all over his face while shaking his head.
"You don't understand. You won't ever understand how I feel. Everything always hurts a lot because of all the bad I've done that I can never take back. How hard life was growing up as a human. And I hate the fact that I can remember it so well. Hearing all those people tell me their sob stories and taking it all in with the fakest smile and the fakest reassurance like a machine. And—" He shrugs his shoulders, scoffing before continuing.
"Ever since I found you, I thought that if I acted like it didn't matter, then it wouldn't."

"So you've been feeling like this ever since you felt emotion and didn't bother thinking to tell me?" Charli inquires bitterly.

"I didn't want to subject you to my pain, Charli. You've been through a lot, and I didn't want to put more on your shoulders."

"You've been through more!" she raises her voice, gesturing out a hand.
"All that I've gone through is nothing compared to what you've gone through. And I honestly feel really shitty that I technically did what all of your followers have done."

His eyebrows tilt upward and he remains hush for a moment before speaking just above a whisper.
"What do you mean?"

"Came to you crying with my problems. That night my parents died, I straightaway charged into your house at, like, four in the morning and dropped all that shit on you. It makes me really regret it. You've been through a lot, and I don't know how you manage to hide it."

With another despondent smile, he shrugs.
"Why spread sorrow and tears? I don't want to act out my inner feelings. I am not my feelings. Expressing them feels pathetic."

"Tears only mean you've been strong for too long. There's nothing wrong with expressing your hurt. It makes you more human." She nods.
"And I just want to help, it's what I'm here for. Please don't distance yourself from me when you're feeling this way, it just—it hurts me, too, dude."

"I'm sorry, Charli. I don't mean to hurt you. I just want to protect you, is all. And I want to avoid overwhelming you because there is a lot that I feel. Like most times I wonder what was so hard to love about me. My parents gave me all the wealth anyone could ever ask for, but they missed something. Love."

"You're not hard to love, cariño. You just asked the wrong people to try. And I know I won't ever understand the guilt you feel about what you've done, but you fail to see the improvement you've made in the past year. Look at you. Making friends, discovering hobbies you enjoy, things you like and don't like, experiencing a fuck ton of emotions; like you beat yourself up way too much and don't see the positive side of things."
She rests a hand on his thigh.

"I know, it's just really hard, but—yeah." He reaches toward his right, retrieving the Walkman that was on the floor and he holds it in his lap, his thumb rubbing along the buttons on the side.
"What you said about escaping reality earlier, I really agree with that. I kept playing Midnight Summers and some other songs on repeat, and it's like they take me somewhere else. And it's why I like reading, too. It takes me to another world, and I love it because I wanna be anywhere else but here."

A stinging twinge poked at her heart at those words, and she tilts her head, tucking in her lips for a short moment.
"When you go to these other worlds, am I still there with you?" she whispers.

Her question strikes an exciting twinkle that soared through his stomach up to his chest. Fiddling with the Walkman's headphone cable, twiddling it around his fingers repeatedly, he nods.
"Yeah. Always."
He sniffles, a few more gleaming tears escaping his woeful eyes.

"I'd sure hope so." She wittily smirks while raising her eyebrows.
"But kinda risqué considering you read a lot of romance books."

Her remark leaves him speechless and outright flustered. Blood rushes through his pale cheeks and he clears his throat, leaning his back up from the side of the bed and sitting with his back slouched like a shrimp.
"Yeah. I guess you could call it risqué. But, uh—yeah. I'm sorry for acting weird today. It's just been very difficult."

"You still haven't told me the stuff that I don't know about you. What did you mean by that?"

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes.
"I can't tell you now. It's a lot. But when the time is right, I will."
He lowers his head, his eyes slowly reopening. Tears trickle from his chin and land on his pants, leaving dark spots in the tan fabric. Doma has told her various different things about demons and even the other Upper Moons, but he has never told her absolutely anything about the one who created him. It was difficult to. And dangerous.
"It's hard to wait around for something I know might never happen; but it's harder to give up when I know it's everything I want."

Charli had no earthly idea what he was referring to, but she figured it was related to the portion of information he was reluctant to tell her. Though she respected his decisions and was willing to wait. She could wait for years.
"I can't promise to fix all your problems, but I can promise you won't have to face them alone. I don't know what secrets you're keeping from me, but whatever they are, I'm ready whenever to help."

A wistful smile curves at the ends of his lips and he lets himself go, falling into her embrace. With his head plunged against her chest, he leaned himself against her, yearning for her clutch, and she didn't hesitate to give it to him. She throws one arm around his thin waist, while the other held his head, her hand carding through the red and black stain at the top of his hair.
With her nose just above it, she takes in a sharp breath, respiring in the sweet fragrance of coconut that still lingered on each and every strand.
"Your hair is so pretty," she murmurs against his head, her voice sending a tickle down his neck.

He soon mutters, "Thank you," sounding muffled with uncontrollable warmth sweltering his cheeks.
"Your hair looks really pretty, too, by the way. I like the way it came out."

"Thanks, I do as well." She smiles, closing her eyes.
"I spent my entire life wishing for someone like you. So don't you ever think that I would give up on you. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not for the rest of my life."

"Someone like me?" he inquires gently.

"A friend is all I ever prayed for before I met you, dude. I never believed in God, but I still prayed. Prayed and prayed. And look. I finally found you. When we first met, I obviously honestly had no idea that you'd be so important to me."

Doma softly chuckles and nods.
"I can definitely agree. You're right. I am very different compared to back then. I will never be that me again."

"Good. 'Cause the old you was scary as hell in all honesty," she whimsically snickers.

"I know—I'm very sorry." His voice trails off incoherently as tears once again sting his eyes like agonizing needles.

"Stop apologizing, it's okay; it's not your fault. Look at me."
Cupping his cheeks with her hands, she lifts his head to meet hers. Left at the center of her hoodie was a dark wet stain from his tears, and she couldn't care less.
"Will I turn into a demon if I ingest your tears?" she solemnly asks.

Doma stood stumped. Super stumped. His eyebrows tilt upward and he frowns, almost like he was frightened over the question. He felt frightened to even answer it. Did he want to? Not really.
"No?"

Promptly after hearing his answer, she closes in on the proximity between them, gaping open her lips and drawing out her tongue. Pressing its wet warmth against either of his milky glistened cheeks, she licks away his tears, leaving him flustered once again. In the process, he stiffens up while wincing his eyes shut, holding his breath with his heart thumping out his chest.
The sensation of her soft tongue against his skin was a feeling he couldn't decipher if he liked or disliked.
Perchance a mixture between both.

Not long after, Charli jerks back and swishes her head to the side, blowing raspberries in distaste in attempt to discard the salty tang from her mouth.
"Thhhbbfftt—salty. GROSS . . ."

"Charli, why would you even do that?!" Doma bursts into a laughing and snorting mess, his expression one of puzzlement and revulsion.
"That was—disgusting! PffftHAHA!!"

"Listen!" she utters out before blowing a few more raspberries and wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie.
"Back when I was with my parents, I read a book where the main character licked her friend's tears when she was sad to try and make her laugh and it worked, so I wanted to try it. And boom. It worked."

With his turtleneck sleeve, he rubs clean her saliva from his cheeks all while still laughing.
"Yeah, it did. You win, weirdo. I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that! Oh, gosh. But I'm sorry I ruined the mood, also. I don't mean to be all sad, it's ju—"

"What did I just say? Stop with the sorries," she asserts.
"You're so apologetic. I'm really glad you told me all of that. I was blind this whole year and couldn't see through you, but now I do. Just makes me wanna be there for you, times two."

"Times two? What is that?" He tilts his head inquisitively.

She shrugs. "You know . . . times two. Like, doubled. I wanna be there for you doubled. It's—hard to explain," she bashfully chuckles as her voice trails off.

"I like that. Times two," he repeats the phrase, closing his eyes with an amiable smile.
He draws in a breath with his chest rising and falling as his smile dissipates and he mumbles, "I'm feeling drowsy."

"Sleep. You haven't eaten in a few hours, and you just cried. Feeling tired after crying will always happen."
Uncrossing her legs, she rises to her feet.
"You want me to go out and get a deer for you? Should probably get one for Eight, too while I'm at it."

"No." He reaches out, longingly tugging at the hem of her hoodie sleeve.
"Stay, please. Sleep with me," he pleads, his tone soporific and tender with the shimmer in his eyes enticing.

His grasp on her sleeve compels her to stay put, and she looks down at him with her brows shooting up. Tucking in her lips with her cheeks tinging a faint red, she snickers.
He couldn't comprehend her reaction at first, but soon after figuring it out, his cheeks flush red as well and he sheepishly grins.
"I meant actually sleep."

"I know that, weirdo."

"Then why'd you give me that look?"

"Just odd seeing you all . . . never mind." She dismisses, waving her other hand.
"I'll stay with you, though, of course. You gotta eat once you wake up."

"I know. I will," he slurs his words sluggishly and stands, Walkman clutched in his hand. Charli almost always forgot how tall he was whenever he sat down. Him standing back up with his towering frame accompanying the atmosphere was inevitably surprising.
So tall and muscly with such fetching characteristics with the most gratifying heart.
She knew she needed to protect him. She didn't want to. She needed to.

She felt remarkably hurt in a way because of what he's been concealing from her for the past year they've known each other. To think the entire time he was in pain and she had absolutely no idea. She felt pathetic and blind. But she wasn't anymore.
And the only thing she was blind to was the detestable leader that controlled all demons she had yet to find out more about. Whenever Doma was ready to tell her.

Lying down on their sides facing each other on the bed, the two friends solely gaped into each other's eyes in search for nothing in particular. Just taking in each other's presence and company in silence was enough for them.
Doma was listening to Midnight Summers again with only one headphone on his ear and the volume not as blasting as he always sets it.
Again, his fingers were twirling and twisting the black cable, something he'll get used to doing a lot.

After taking in a soft breath, he whispers, "Are you all right?" which brought Charli a devoted smile.

"I'm all right if you're all right," she whispers back.

Her response leaves him beaming, and his iridescent eyes gradually shut. The quietness surrounding them rejoined, besides the faint upbeat music emitting from the Walkman.
She presumed he was ready to sleep, so she turns herself over on her back with her sight locking to the ceiling.
She then closes them, planning on falling asleep herself since she only slept five hours. Her sleep schedule wasn't the greatest; it never was from the beginning, but living with Doma only made it worst.
But she was content with it.

With one hand on her stomach and the other at her side, she was ready to snooze. Until she heard those words roll off his tongue.

"Swear to me you'll help me make the most of freedom."

Her relaxation halted. Her heart plunged all the way to her ankles upon hearing that, and she didn't even know what it meant. That worried her the most. Her palm seizes her hoodie tight, clenching its fabric like a talon, yet she kept her eyes closed. Didn't even want to bother opening them.
Drawing in a sigh, she mumbles, "I swear."

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐈𝐗

★──────★──────★

𝐒𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

"What?!"

The Love Pillar and Wind Pillar both exclaim in absolute disbelief.

"Kocho!" Sanemi vehemently shouts, "is that really the demon who killed Kanae?!"
He stands from his knelt position, practically hovering overtop of Mitsuri as he lurched forward.

"The description matches what she told me within her final moments," the Insect Pillar answers, her voice almost imperceptible as it remained hush, constraining back her heartfelt anger.
"She also stated he spoke very kindly with a smile all the time."

"That's exactly how it spoke!" Sanemi blurts stridently.
"It had that ludicrous smile on its face the entire time. I knew it was all a scheme. A fake façade. I should have exterminated that demon when I had the chance!"

"But, no! Wait!" Mitsuri dissents, also rising to her feet, her head punctually barging against his chest and pushing him back.
"There's—no way all of that could have been fake! He was really, really friendly! It's true, I could tell!"
Her head swivels back and forth between Sanemi and the Insect Pillar.

"That's what it wants you to think, Kanroji!" Sanemi scorns the desperate girl.

"But it makes no sense! Why would he stop eating people, then?! Why would he become friends with a human and keep the friendship for an entire year?!" she cries out with her fists clenched.

"To get accepted into the Demon Slayer Corps so it can then lead Kibutsuji straight to headquarters," says the Serpent Hashira. He, too stands, his heterochromatic eyes focused on Mitsuri.
"A demon would commit anything to destroy the Demon Slayer Corps, Kanroji. Especially a Twelve Kizuki, one allied right beside Kibutsuji. No matter how manipulatively cruel the plan may be. And it's our duty as Hashira to prevent it from happening."

"That girl is in grave danger," the Insect Pillar chimes, standing as well.
"And you're right, Iguro. I do believe she's being manipulated. Any girl would be by his convincing demeanor."

"Then, the girl must be rescued from the evil," the Stone Hashira joins in, clapping his hands together, his mala beads clattering.
"And the demon must be destroyed."

"Sounds like a mission worth going on," Sanemi conceitedly remarks, reaching down for his sheathed katana on the floor beside him.
Clutching it in his relentless hold, he skims it in his belt's grasp where it remains hoisted up by its silver and green hilt.

"Guys! I—I don't know about this!"
Mitsuri hesitantly panics, both her hands frenetically waving, anxious drops of sweat visible on her complexion.

"You're a Hashira. Act like one," the Wind Hashira scolds her, his pale purple irises belittling.

The assert shatters Mitsuri's heart in two, her lips forming to a frown and her sight peering down in sheer humiliation.

"If you allow me, I'd like to tag along on this mission," says the Insect Pillar.
"I have wanted to seek vengeance ever since her passing, and I can't let this opportunity slip by. And considering he's possibly weakened, the plan I have been establishing for quite some time now might not even need to take action."
Despite her resent, she concealed her intense feelings behind her benevolent smile and charming eyes. 

Throughout the Hashira's discussion, Ubuyashiki's lips were sealed shut remaining as silent as can be. The modest beam he wore from the very beginning of the meeting lingered, and he only shuts his eyes. He didn't need to reflect not once, nor twice. Because this was a demon they were debating about. A Twelve Kizuki.
Surely he wasn't halfwitted enough to put his trust in.

"Then, when the sun sets, the mission belongs to you three to carry on with," he ultimately declares.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────────── ⊰

With her vision gradually coming together as her eyes fluttered open, Charli's sight was met with the same tranquil environment of Doma's bedroom, only darker. The candles on his dresser had finally given out sometime while they were both knocked out, leaving the room nearly pitch-black and tenebrous. It was awfully quiet, too.
Her throat felt dry, and she had that weird taste in her mouth. That one weird taste that always lingers after waking up from a long, absolutely amazing nap.

Over the year of living with him, she's only slept in his bed twice, and she had to admit; it was the most comfortable bed she has ever slept on in her entire damn life. More comfortable than hers upstairs. It's the type of bed that makes her feel like she awoken on an entirely different planet.
Once fully awakening, she attempts to lift her right arm, but was unsuccessful since something was seizing it tight. She swivels her head over, perceiving Doma's arms thrown around it, hugging it to his chest as he slept.

His face was buried right between the beginning of her collarbone and the base of her chest. The Walkman and headphones had been tossed off to the side behind him by his lower back, and his chest rose and fell leniently, his breathing serene and steady.
Charli couldn't help but smile, and even some blood rushed through her cheeks tinging them a rosy red.

With her other hand, she reaches over gently patting his sleek platinum hair.
And in unexpected response, his head moves further up her chest and he lets out a weary whine.
"I'm awake . . . I woke up not so long ago," he mumbles drowsily.

"Oh—shit." Surprised, Charli swiftly snatches her hand off his head with embarrassment sweltering her.
"Hi—do you know what time it is? I think it's late."

"Clock on the wall. And 'sup," he murmurs.

Charli's gaze flicks to the pendulum clock hung up on the wall quietly ticking. The minute hand was pointed between seven and six, and the hour between nine and eight. She clicks her tongue.
"Doma, you know my dumbass still can't tell time. No matter how much you try to teach me, I'm not going to remember."

In retort Doma faintly groans, and his luminous eyes pride open, greeting the side of her face. They immediately widen, and he hastily shoots up on all fours, his hands instantly planting onto either of Charli's shoulders, pinning her to the bed.
Completely taken aback, Charli stammers and laughs, her own eyes going wide and her cheeks flushed.
"Hey!—The hell are you doing, freak?"

After carefully scrutinizing her hoodie from top to bottom steadily for at least a good long ten seconds, he lets out a content sigh in deep relief.
"I was making sure I didn't drool on you."

"What the fuck?" Charli laughs. "D'you really think I'd give a damn if you drooled on me? I'd probably just lick it."

"LICK IT?!" he exclaims out in aghast, his enlivening voice fulfilling the quiet room.
"Just like you licked my tears?! And you call me a freak. But I can't lie, I think I love it." He shoots her a whimsical smirk followed by a wink before removing his hands from her shoulders and flopping back down on the bed on his stomach beside her, his face buried in his pillow.
"Now, I lay back down," he utters inaudibly.

"What? Oh, hell no; you're getting your ass up," she spurns, smacking his back.

"Owwww, Charli."

"Come on, you need to eat; you said you would before you fell asleep."

"I know that, but . . . I don't think I feel like getting up right now. I just wanna lay down for a while. Please?" he reluctantly whines, smothering his head underneath the pillow.

"Nope," Charli declines, and she jerks herself up and climbs onto his back, sitting straddled on him and smacking all around his lower back and upper back consistently.
"Get up, get up, get up, get up. It's not good to just stay in bed for hours when you're not feeling good. It just makes it worse, trust me. Get up, get up, get up."

"Your weight and that slapping feels good on my back, actually. Stay there . . . and keep going," he murmurs.

Charli's smacking halts for a good five seconds before she digs her fingers into his rough shoulder muscles.
"Your muscles do feel kinda tensed. Unless that's just a demon thing?"

"Mm-mm," he hums, his voice remaining suppressed and incoherent all while his head was smothered underneath the pillow.
"At least for me they only get tensed when I'm—I dunno. In a bad mood."

His last remark instantly made their conflict back at the village flicker within her mind. She never apologized for yelling at him, and she felt awful about it. Mainly because it wasn't even his fault. The confused, dejected look in his eyes only made her feel worse, especially now that she knows he's been down in the dumps for nearly their entire friendship and she had no idea.
Getting frustrated with him for two silly matters is the last thing she wanted to do. The girls laughing at her and him appearing so happy talking to someone who wasn't her.

However she wasn't good with apologies, especially out of no where. She was sure he knew she didn't mean any of it, but apologizing is what friends do when they hurt one another. She takes in a achey breath before mustering up her words.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you at the village, by the way. It was—a bitchy move. And it was embarrassing. Like, in front of all those people. I didn't mean to do it, I was just—I don't know."

Doma remains silent for well over an eternity, prompting Charli to feel sheepish and glum for even bringing it up in the first place. It also made her feel like part of the reason why he was in a bad mood was because of it. But soon he removes his head from under the pillow and plants his hands into the bed, flipping himself over on his back.
In the process, Charli lifted herself off of him hastily letting him reposition himself before sitting back down on his waist, her sight aimed down on him.

"You didn't have to apologize for that." He sadly smiles up at her.
"I take it all into consideration, you were only upset in the moment. It did make me feel sad, but . . . things happen."

"I promise I didn't mean to make you feel sad, I was just—"

"Shush, shush," he dismisses, raising a hand up and waving it briefly.
"It makes me happy you apologized even when you didn't really need to. So happy."
His eyebrows tilt upward, and an amiable beam shapes his glistening lips. Those lips Charli's eyes kept finding their way on ever since he called her his sweetheart. And he wasn't naive, he noticed it.

"I did need to apologize, cariño. I don't ever wanna yell at you like that again. You don't deserve to be treated like that."
Drawing her hand down, she traces along his jawline with her fingers, and he promptly leans his head against her hand, desperate for more of her tender affection and touch.
Vibrant color tinges across his pale cheeks, and he demurely smiles, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with her.
His hypnotic eyes trail off of hers.

"I like it when you call me that," he murmurs coyly, his words rolling out merely above a whisper.

"Call you what? Cariño?"

He nods. "Yeah. It makes me feel—good. Really good. "Bubs" makes me feel good, too. But, cariño . . . it just—" His words fall flat, and he bashfully grins, shaking his head.
"Ah, I don't mean to sound all weird."

"Good to know. I'll call you it more often so you can melt all the time," Charli chuckles with a witty wink.

"Ahhhh, yeah." He covers his burning up face with a hand, his smile only widening.
"Melt . . . it makes me melt, that's what it does. I've always wanted to call you a pet name, too. I thought of a few, you know."

"You did?" Her eyes go wide, her cheeks flushing red straight away.
"What are they?"

"There's quite a bit, but I've narrowed it down to my three favorites. Sweetheart, lotus and mi corazón," he answers sheepishly, his eyes still lingered off elsewhere.

"Mi . . . co—" Charli went silent, entirely speechless—in the best way possible. That meant "my heart" in Spanish, and she didn't ever recall teaching him it. Over the year, she had taught him quite a lot of Spanish because he was exceedingly curious about it and was willing to attempt to become fluent in it.
It made her happy considering her past friends often made fun of her for it being her native language.
So having a best friend that's interested in it felt . . .

"I don't remember teaching you that," she retorts.

Doma chuckles gingerly.
"Let's just say I might've bought me a book a little while ago that's basically a guide to learning Español. Has all the Japanese words written beside the Spanish ones, so I often teach myself new words and stuff with it."

Now Charli's own heart was on the brink of melting. Her stomach tingled with fluttery butterflies, a rapturous sensation she grew fond to feel around him. Blood surges through her cheeks, and she cocks her head to the side.
"Dude, why haven't you told me this?"

He shrugs one shoulder.
"I guess I felt . . . a little embarrassed? To tell you about it."

"Oh, my God, seriously? Do you know how happy that makes me? I—love that so much. You're so cute. And I like all of those names. Call me all of them. Or I'll hit you."

"Oh, my." Shaking his head, he winces one eye whimsically.
"I don't wanna be hit. I'll call you them, all right? I won't forget. Promise, promise."
He then sits up from his bed with a gentle groan slipping from between his lips.
Charli was still straddled just below his waist, and him sitting up only brought their proximity even closer. Their faces were mere inches a part, their hearts thumping so fast and loud, if they were quiet enough, they'd probably be able to hear them almost beat rhythmically.
Whenever they drew close, the time and world around them froze. Their worries vanished. Her warmth and his frigidness mingled together superbly like two puzzle pieces connecting together.

And despite Doma's temperature always remaining cool, whenever he would find himself close to her, he'd feel every part of his body sweltered with turbulent heatwaves, primarily around his chest and stomach. Though he pays little attention to it to avoid embarrassing himself in front of her.
Slanting his head to the side, he smiles, whispering, "Are you gonna stay sitting on me, or are you gonna let me get up?"
His breath was dulcet against her lips.

"Where are you going?" Charli inquires quietly.

"I'm gonna eat," he answers. "Killing deer hurts me, but I need to stop being so weak and just do it."

"What do you mean weak? Feeling bad about killing animals doesn't make you weak; who told you that?"

Doma hesitates. His sight strays away from hers again and he shrugs his shoulders.
"I dunno."

"That doesn't make you weak, okay? It's—normal to feel that way, you're literally killing an innocent, adorable ass animal. Who the hell wouldn't feel bad?" Charli remarks as she lifts herself from his lap, flumping down beside him.
"You're gonna leave right now? Can I go with you?"

"Ah—if it's all right with you, I'm gonna go by myself. It's not because of you or anything, I just wanna be able to kill one alone. I dunno."

She felt a wounding twinge strangle her heart. Maybe because Doma likes her to be by his side at all times, and she can admit, she is pretty clingy and attached to him; she just doesn't like to show it. So him wanting some time away from her only made her overthinking mind restart all over again.
But she knew she needed to give him space, and was of course willing to.
"Okay. That's fine." She nods. "Just be careful, please."

"I'll be careful. But I believe you're forgetting—"

"You're a demon. Right." Charli smacks a hand against her face upon realization. She forgot he doesn't exactly need to be careful. While he is weak, he's still a demon and has strength like no other—compared to a measly human.

"Yeah," he retorts reluctantly, kicking his long legs off his bed and standing. Retrieving his Walkman, he straps it to his belt, throwing the retro headphones on, the black cable swinging leniently.
"I won't be long."

"Wait."
She reaches out, clasping his wintry hand, not letting him scurry away so fast. She faltered, her thoughts not exactly processed just yet into words, leaving Doma puzzled with his head tilting.
She wanted to talk more about his feelings, but didn't want to take much of his time, and was also purely clueless on know how to even bring up the topic. She hated it.
"Are you feeling okay?" she eventually musters up.

The ends of his lips curve up to a benign smile and he nods.
"I am."
He swivels his head around toward the ice sculptures on shelves along the wall, his prismatic eyes particularly stable on the one of her.
The one of Kotoha he made has been long gone. He couldn't bear looking at it any longer after experiencing emotions. It continuously reminded him of what he had done to her, and how he felt an obscure connection toward her.
A connection that lead to him keeping her by his side. Even without human emotions.

But his bond with Charli was obviously much different.
It was authentic. Intimate. He would do just about anything for her, as she would do the same.

"That sculpture of you on my shelf and your face always remind me that it's not so bad," he coos tenderly.

And those simple yet sincere words eased Charli's alarmed heart and thoughts then and there. Relieved, she internally sighed. She knew he was telling the truth when he stated him wanting to go alone wasn't because of her. He'd never lie about something like that.
He just genuinely needed time to himself.
She gives his slender hand a meek squeeze before letting it go.

"I'm glad." She nods, smiling.
"Now, go on and fill that tummy. If you can, you should bring a deer back for Eight, too. Not sure if he's still asleep."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that," he retorts, ambling around the bed and across the room toward the door.
"I'll see if I can. I'll be back soooon," he singsongs as his tall frame disappears out the room and down the hall.

"I'll be here," Charli responds inaudibly. Too quiet for him to hear. She more or less said it to herself. A sigh leaves her and she lies back down on his bed, shifting herself over on his side of it.
His side still felt remarkably cold, and his pillow had a sweet and rich aroma to it. It smelled just like him.
Burying her face into it, she embraces it tight, respiring in his ambrosial scent.
On his nightside lied the notebook she had given him on top of the book he's currently reading, Bedeviled Scarlett.

"And it's why I like reading, too. It takes me to another world, and I love it because I wanna be anywhere else but here."

Doma's words kept surging over and over again through her head. They weren't supposed to hurt her, but they did.
They worried her. Because during her darkest times in the past, she used to feel the same things. And those feelings eventually lead to suicidal thoughts. She didn't know why she felt so anxious about it. Even if that became the case, it's not like he would be able to hurt himself. It'd all just regenerate since he's a demon.
Right?
The notions left her uneasy.

Sauntering down the hallway, Doma aims towards the front door, promptly getting stopped by Eight. He had leaped off of his bean bag and scurried in front of him, stamping a paw down with his ears flat against his head.
Like he didn't want him to leave. Or more like he was warning him.

"I have to see him, Ocho." Doma frowns down at him. "Don't worry, I'll be all right. I'll bring back a deer for you, okay? I can do it. I'm strong. I'll prove to him I am."
Shuffling around the unnerved canine, he reaches for the doorknob, twisting it open and stepping out, closing it behind him, leaving Eight solitary and solemn in the living room, an indistinct whimper leaving him. 

Doma leans his back against the front door, his eyes lingering about the tall dense trees huddled around his home, the brisk wind gusting through them. The sun had already slipped beneath the horizon, letting the moon express her profound rapture.
Crickets chirped and sang beyond the distance, echoing and bouncing off each and every tree.
Closing his eyes and sucking in a breath, he lurches forward off the door, strolling down the forest drawing further and further away from the house.

His feet practically dragged along the ground, his legs feeble and trembly.
Maintaining his strength and energy wasn't easy; not in the slightest. Especially since he holds the second highest rank in the Twelve Kizuki.
Those demons require a significant amount of blood, more than regular demons to conserve their power.
He was stoked he could even still walk. Even after an entire year without any human blood.

With Midnight Summers on maximum volume and the pacifying gusts of wind sifting through his silky hair and hakama pants, he felt at peace. Something he experiences once in a blue moon.

"Promise me nirvana because beneath the blistering stars, your unwavering voice fills my despondent spirits
Too caught up in my fantasies to realize the pain I've done to myself
I don't need to fret, nor do I need to sigh
Because I breathe in your enthusiasm and your passion throughout our midnight summers, leaving me with determination and rhapsody
I can oppose the affliction that haunts the inner depths of my dejected heart as long as you take my hand and promise me nirvana"

Doma sang the lyrics to his favorite song, his voice sophomoric and melodious, sifting from tree to tree and filling the nightly atmosphere with his blissing harmony.
Despite him having no prior experience with singing, he was effortlessly flawless and inimitable. He had shut his eyes, completely letting himself go; his voice taking him on a paradisiacal ride.
Periodically he'd spin around, his arms spread wide and his silken hair flailing divinely with the moon's mystical glimmer kissing his milky porcelain skin.

"I swear that I will wipe your tears as long as you promise me nirvana
Help me escape these endless nightmares with your grace and your charm
So throughout our midnight summers underneath the blistering stars, you'll be running your fingers through my hair and I'll be tracing hearts around your scars"

As he ventured down the tenebrous forest, he wandered further and further away from home singing his heart out, eventually at least a good thirty minutes out, to where he'd find himself drawing close to a secluded estate within the distance, its yellow-tinted lanterns providing piercing light through the murky wilderness.
The smile he wore the whole way gradually vanished as he sauntered towards to what appeared to be the rear entrance of the estate, his eyebrows edging close and his mouth a vexed frown.

He takes one big leap, clasping onto the estate's wooden balcony railing, hoisting himself up and over it, both his feet planting down firmly, his fists clenched.
Both of the double balcony doors were shut, and he remained idle just right outside of them.
Taking in a sharp breath, he navigates his hand down to his Walkman strapped to his white belt, pressing pause and entering back into the reality he didn't want to be in.
He pulls the headphones down the back of his head so they'd hang off his neck and he reaches for both of those doorknobs, twisting and priding them open simultaneously.

He strolls in, his sight aimed down and his demeanor altering.
He appeared unsettled and aggravated.
He imprudently plops down on a singular cushiony chair that was green with floral spiraling accents that sat beside a nightstand.
Tossing his legs up, he hugs them to his chest, his chin driven into his knees.

A library fulfilled with books stood in close proximity before him and to his right were more books on a center wooden cubby.
Lit by a dim ceiling light from up above, the room Doma sat in had an arcane, disparaging aura to it. The same aura Doma always felt when he was around.
Lonesome and quiet in the corner, a short little boy with black hair perceived searching for books within the prolonged bookshelves, his finger meandering through a portion of them, the tip tracing along their spines.
He wore a white long sleeve button up shirt accompanied by black dress shorts, mid-calf socks and brown oxford shoes.
His complexion was pale, his eyes a gentle lilac.

And he appeared unimpeachable and innocent as can be, but Doma already knew who he was. He was someone far from innocent.

"I'm here, can't you see?" Doma blurts out tentatively.
"What do you want?"

"What did we talk about?" the boy responds, yet his voice sounded no where near close to what it should sound like.
It was uncanny and cryptic, yet tender and mellow.

"No idea," Doma's quick to retort, lacking much respect and regard with his piqued voice.

The boy's silence lingered on for nearly a minute. Turning around, he strolls towards Doma sedately, his shoes vaguely clacking along the wooden floor with every step he took.
The closer he got, the more the goosebumps spread across Doma's skin.
Because he feared this boy.

The boy closes in, halting in front of the chair before Doma.
"What is this?" he inquires, his index finger and thumb yanking the wire to Doma's Walkman.

Doma slaps away his hand indecently.
"It's none of your concern."

With an indignant clutch, the boy seizes Doma's hand, his own bursting with apparent veins. His eyes abruptly altered to a profound crimson with pupils as slender as a cats', his face also riddled with exasperated veins.
"It is my concern," he protests bitterly.

The swift clutch on his wrist makes Doma jolt with his lip sneering. He attempts to jerk his hand out of his grasp, but he knew he never would be able to. Not even if he was at his full strength. His fingers ball together into a fist and he irately sighs.

"Charli gave it to me," he then answers warily.

"Did she?"
The boy lets go of his hand, and he snatches it away hastily, tucking it between his legs that remained hugged to his chest.
"That's right, she did," he snarks.

"Look how far you have fallen, Upper Two. Can't you see? You stride with so much fragility. It sickens me. My boiling anger will never succumb unless you—"

"I'm not going back. I've said it once, I've said it twice, I've said it—how ever many damn times. You don't own me. Don't tell me what to do and don't tell me what to say."
Doma spurns, kicking his legs off from the chair and rising to his feet, towering over the boy with his disinclined aspect.
"You can go right ahead and take these shameful kanji from my eyes because I seriously couldn't care any less for them. Go on, do it."

"You need me and you know it," the boy counters, his head tilted up as he peered into Doma's insolent prismatic eyes.
Within numerous centuries, he was the first demon to speak and treat him with no respect. And he grew used to the impertinent behavior over the year.
He had to.
Because no matter how far he plummeted within the ranks, the boy still wouldn't let go. Not until he successfully manipulates him.

"I have not needed you for a really long time," Doma raises his pitch, his riled tone echoing through the room.
He was fearful over the kid, but whenever he'd stand his ground and fire back right in his face, his fright would slip beneath his heart like he never even knew what being afraid was.

"My blood surges within you. Have you forgotten?"

"I wish I could forget. And I wish I could forget you, too, Muzan."
Negligently, he swivels around stamping towards the opened balcony doors, only mere feet away from the nightly wilderness.
But Kibutsuji wasn't going to let him leave so fast. Numerous streaks of veins travel across his face, his eyebrows drawing close.
He raises one digit, pointing it at Doma as he sauntered away, his pointy nail a pale azure.
"What have I told you about addressing me as merely my name and my name only?"

With solely one finger, a vigorous blow strikes Doma, causing him to drop to his knees in front of the balcony entrance, freedom right at the tips of his fingers.
So strong, the glass from the door's shatter instantaneously, some minor shards flickering in his direction and jabbing into his cheeks and close to his eyes.
His muscles flex frantically and he grits his teeth with his eyes wincing in dire pain.
His arms and legs tremble, and meek grunts roll out from between his lips.
Sprouting veins course up from his turtleneck collar and unfurl over his face.
And some develop across his biceps, the fabric of his turtleneck so tight they were visible as the eye can see.

Kibutsuji takes one step forward, then another step. His face distorts as his small frame began to morph and shift, gradually developing a more broad and tall figure.
The figure of a tall man.
The jet black curly locks of hair unwind on either side of his face, another white button up shirt embellishing him followed by a black tie and waistcoat with styling grey attributes and outlines. Black slacks dressed his legs and shiny loafers on his feet, so polished and glossy the reflection of the room could be seen on their satiny.
The streaks of displeased veins were still to be seen on his pale complexion as he ambled soberly toward Doma who was still knelt down on his knees with exertion.

His bright red blood seeps from between his lips and from his nose, trickling onto the wooden floor beneath him.
Some of it even manages to ooze onto his Walkman wire where it'd seep all the way down the cable, eventually dripping down once it arrived to the very end where it was plugged into the gadget.

"I am your superior. The one who prevails all. You speak to me with respect and address me as your lord," Kibutsuji spoke his conceited words.
"Turn around and look at me."

Shuddering in unsettling disturbance, Doma had no choice but to obey his orders. Grunting and groaning, he shifts himself around on his knees, tilting his head up at Kibutsuji's seething glare that was influential enough to make his stomach twist with nausea.
Extending his arm down, the abstruse man sets a finger underneath Doma's chin.
"I've been far too lenient on you considering your foul attitude and behaviors all because you're one of the very few Twelve Kizuki that remain. But keep it up and you'll see where it leads."

Scraping his teeth with his eyebrows furrowed, Doma grouses as more copious amounts of blood spurt down his face.
"Fuck you," he grumbles fiercely between his gritted teeth.

Kibutsuji's eyes promptly go wide, and his lips gape open to make a retort, but before he could, three delicate knocks come from the room door.
"Toshikuni? Are you all right? I heard glass break," a honeyed female voice calls inaudibly from behind the door.

The man's troubled eyes rapidly dart to the door, his lip sneering as he remains as silent as the stars. And for once, he internally hoped she wouldn't attempt to pride it open. Because she'll have a sight to see.
"You keep that mouth shut, Doma," he quietly commands.

As much as he wanted to scream out, Doma listened like an obedient dog. Strained breaths leave him, his chest rising and falling consistently.
He knew what was the deal here. He knew he was posing as a child.
A child to a family who had no idea who he really was, and it pained him just thinking about it.
That one day those righteous, oblivious people will perish to his sinful hands and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Toshikuni? Are you in there?" the woman worriedly calls again with more knocks on the door. And when seconds go by without a response, she saunters away in defeat.
"Hm! I must be hearing things today," she chuckles amongst herself as her faint voice and footsteps draw further away.

Kibutsuji's eyes flash with relief and he peers back down at Doma, perceiving glistening tears welling up at his iridescent eyes.
The sight constructs an immoral smile to shape his lips.
Though he loathed Doma's weakness, witnessing it often brought him satisfaction. Amusement.
Because he threw away all the power he held due to his perfervid emotions.
And he found that revolting.

"Such a misfit. Always ready to cry," he jeers depravedly.

The remark only fuels Doma's tears, prodding them to stream down his cheeks to his jawline where they follow it down to his chin and mix in with his blood. Thorns jab at his throat when the irksome lump forms right at its base.
He attempts to speak more, but he fails, closing his eyes and restraining himself from bursting into tears.

Kibutsuji's finger curls underneath Doma's chin and with force, he thrusts his arm forward impelling him back belligerently.
Compared to him, he was equivalent to a thin feather. He stumbled back, plummeting down against the floor roughly on his side with a weary grunt leaving his throat.
He hacks and coughs on his blood, desperately gasping for air.

Whirling around, Kibutsuji ambles away, his hands reaching up and tightening his black tie.
"Dismissed," he announces gravely.
"I won't even dare mention anything about the Blue Spider Lily. I already know you haven't looked into it at all. Get out of my sight."

Feebly with aching arms and limbs, Doma sits himself up and warily stands, tensed breaths leaving him.
He gives the man one last dishonorable glance before he whips around, flouncing out of the room toward the balcony. He hops onto the railing and leaps off into the nightfall, his long hair gliding behind him.
With an uneven plunge, he lands on the ground harshly, his ankle twisting inward and snapping involuntarily, causing him to fall to his hands and knees with a meek whimper.

Drawing in deep breaths, he occasionally coughs up more blood, the tears in his eyes becoming uncontrollable.
They fall from his eyes onto the ground where they'd seep into the dirt and vanish.
"I hate you. I hate you," he unsteadily mutters, his eyebrows and lips trembling.

He detested nights where he'd have to visit Kibutsuji. They'd always end in a bloody mess. Along with tears.
And they were the nights where he felt alone the most. Although deep inside he knew he definitely wasn't alone.
But it was a difficult feeling to get past.
Rising to his feet once more tremulously, he limps away from the solitary house.

If he were at his full strength, his fractured ankle would heal in solely a second or two.
The stinging sensation traveled up his calf, making him wince and suck in the air through his clenched teeth.
With his face covered in his blood and tears, he felt pathetic.
Kibutsuji constantly made him feel that way.

Drawing away further from the house, its dim lanterns entirely disappear leaving him in the gloomy shadows of the forest.
He pivots his direction toward a tree where he'd throw his back against it and perch on the ground, peering up into the clear night sky enlivened with thousands of glistering stars.
Their radiance and reflection bounced off his shiny opalescent eyes.
His enchanting eyes that were woven with dread.

He shuts them both. And the forest fills with his distressing cries.

Chapter Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

★──────★──────★

'𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

"Mr. Shinazugawa, I really don't think this is a good idea! It all doesn't make any sense!"
The frantic Love Pillar exclaims out fervently, her thick braids and pleaded skirt flailing as she descended through the tenebrous forest between Sanemi and the Insect Pillar.

"What are you even saying? It's pissing me off how naive you are," Sanemi counters bitterly, the brisk wind blowing through every strand of his white hair with each tall dense tree flashing past him.
"The demon killed a former Hashira most of us knew well, and—"

"But that was way before in the past!" she blurts, severing his retort.
"Weren't you even paying attention when Charli was telling us about him? She said the night she met him, he gained human emotions! That leaves me thinking he really is a good demon! He went through so much in his past, it's no wonder he grew up to be emotionless in the first place!"

"I don't give two damns what it went through. It's a demon, and it's slaughtered countless lives. Good lives. Like I've said already," Sanemi's infuriated pitch alleviates as well as his expression. It softens, and a faint glisten in his eyes glimmers briefly. Flickering in his mind were his loved ones that had perished in the past.
And killing one Twelve Kizuki would save hundreds. Thousands.
In his judgement, demons are to be slayed. Not be trusted, nor allied with.

The Insect Pillar's interest was piqued upon hearing Mitsuri. And what caught her attention best of all were the words, "He went through so much in his past."
She debated on prying for more information about the matter, but she ultimately conceals her lips shut, her notions only focused on thirsting for the vengeance she's been craving ever since she held her sister while she was in her final moments.
Nonetheless, she couldn't get the thought to flee her mind.

Hearing that a demon went through pain in its past prompted her to feel odd.
Because Demon Slayers often forget demons were once humans, too.
Humans with feelings and souls.
Humans that all became victims to a man who was truly a demon.
A man who wanted all of the power to himself. An egotistical, insensitive wretch.
Demon Slayers didn't know that no demon has ever had a choice. They must obey and honor their lord. They're all entrapped.

But that wasn't going to stop her.
The Insect Pillar seizes the sheathed katana by her hip unrelentingly with a furious vein sprouting at her forehead.
Her quick lithe legs were nimble and swift as she navigated through the wilderness beside the other two Pillars, her monarch patterned haori sifting along with the nightfall's breeze, the moon's gaze beaming down at her refined amethyst eyes and long feathery eyelashes.
Despite her seething fury, a charming smile shaped her shimmery lips.

Even with her sister no longer by her side, she still cherished her and always will, but she'll never be like her.
Kanae pitied demons and had a dream of someday growing peace with them and living alongside them in spite of all the agony they have brought.
The petite girl was inspired to dream the same, but she couldn't.
In her view, peace wasn't worth the heartache. Revenge was.

"Is this the area where you located him?" she inquires sedately, her voice hush and kind.

"I already said no earlier," Sanemi snarks.
"It was further out. The moment I see it, its head'll be on the ground before it even gets to blink."