The silent hours of respect

AN: I would recommend referring the images on Discord as you read this chapter. It will help.

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'Pull yourself together. I won't allow you to cry. Stand up… Shinobu, don't you feel sorry for them? They are so pitiful… Shinobu! Stand up! Do your duty… Shinobu…'

'Shinobu…' [Image 1]

Shinobu parted her eyes to a slit with her sister's appearance and voice engraved into her mind. They felt heavy, inflamed, and moist. 'A fever,' she thought, trying to see through the blur. 'Where am I?'

She tried to move, but her body rejected her command. An extreme bout of weakness with intense pain assaulted her suddenly, making her moan in distress. Was she dreaming? Or did someone just call her name?

"Don't move," a gentle voice entered her ears. "Your wounds will open up otherwise."

Who was it? Why was she here? Why was she unable to move?

The memories pounced on her mind like a ferocious beast then. The order to bring back Nezuko, the search and rescue party separating, a dreamy ambush, and the onslaught of the Upper Rank Three demon, one of the Twelve Kizuki.

The realization struck her heavily and instantly. She lost. She failed to kill the demon. She couldn't even use "that" power.

'Stand up...' her sister had told her. 'Stand up, Insect Hashira Shinobu Kocho. Once you decide to defeat a demon, defeat it. Once you decide to win, win. Win, whatever the cost. You made that promise to Kanao and me, didn't you?'

'I did…' Shinobu's lips opened and closed. 'I did…'

But if she had lost, then why was she still alive? The question announced itself to her out of the blue, along with a stinging pain.

"It's OK," the voice returned, gentler than before. "You are healing faster than I'd thought."

Yes! She remembered. No, not instantly, but like the blooming of a flower. He had landed between her and the demon when she had decided to take the demon to the grave with her. He was weak, but as he fought, he became strong. What had he said?

'Even when I don't see a way, I will keep moving forward.'

With one strike, he had made the demon fall to his knees. But instead of killing him, the blue-skinned man had let him go…

She had thought he was another demon, then. They must be at odds to fight with each other. If she couldn't take the first demon with her, then surely she could at least take this one to the grave, she had thought. She just only had to restrict him long enough for the sun to rise above the horizon.

'Sun…' A stray ray of fading light fell on her face, making the blurry surroundings blurrier.

"Let me close the door," the voice said, now feeling fatigued and broken.

A cool shadow soothed her frown, and the memory returned with even more momentum, like an avalanche.

He had smiled, even though she was the one who had punctured his gut, poisoning him. He had walked towards her in the sun as though they were old friends, his blood already turning purple.

He had crouched, patting her head, and caressing her cheek, the smile on his face full of mercy and love. Like her sister's.

She could still feel the weight of his fingers, their wet coolness. They were trembling.

And then he said something, taking her breath away.

'I loved a maid as fair as summer… with sunlight in her hair…'

Those were the last words she had heard, and now her eyes were fully open. She was lying on straw, she could feel. And she was naked!

Shinobu's breathing quickened, pain shooting through her body from every corner.

"What happened?" the voice approached her, coming nearer with every moment. "Can you sense something internally?"

She couldn't speak. Shinobu tried to focus on the Total Concentration Breathing, but just as she thought that, a hideous premonition struck her. She would die with the slightest strain on her lungs.

Where she found the utter willpower to move her head to look at him, she didn't know. But she could see him now.

Blue, the color of a cloudless summer sky, had been the color of his skin, if not for the tinge of faded purple and the black veins. His long white hair was touching the floor, and there was a blood-colored gem in the middle of his forehead that seemed to ripple rhythmically. His eyes were full of concern and weakness.

Yet, the smile was still there. Just like her sister's.

He looked like an abomination. A demon. Then why couldn't the sun burn him? Why was she feeling as though she could trust him? Why was she smelling a fragrant aura from him, like that of a human, and not demons?

All her life, she had hated demons. They had killed her parents, and then her sweet sister as well. It was her sister who had used to take pity on demons, thinking of them as nothing but pitiful beings. It was her sister who had used to think that demons and humans could be friends and that there must be a way to deal with them peacefully.

She died under their hands, anyway.

How many of her successors had died under demons' hands? How many of the girls' families from the butterfly mansion had lost their lives to them? How many?

It angered her. It angered her so much. She hated them with all of her heart, and it burned with unquenchable feelings of revenge.

Where was this anger now, as she looked at him?

"I've stitched your wounds," he told her, taking deep breaths that became deeper as he spoke. "There are many broken bones, too. For… internal bleeding, I've applied a salve… of local herbs, whatever I could salvage from the near forest. You will… live. Isn't that wonderful, Shinobu?"

His smile was peaceful, full of pain, passion, and death.

No. Even if he was a demon, perhaps she would never come to hate him. Not because he had taken care of her injuries, giving her a chance to live. But because, despite stripping her, and healing her, he hadn't used the antidote.

The man faced right, looking out from the gaps between the wooden door. Another ray of the setting sun found its way to her as it lost height in the sky. It galloped its way from the door's threshold and fell on the purple ends of her hair.

His eyes followed it, landing on her hair as well.

She saw the smile once more, widening as his eyes gained depth. Then he sang, his voice ethereal, like the flutter of a hundred butterflies; a lullaby of the deepest dreams.

"I loved a maid as red as autumn,

with sunset in her hair."

And her heart skipped a beat.

His refusing to use the antidote while being so close made her respect him.

Yes. Even if he was a demon, perhaps she wouldn't hate him.

But if he wasn't a demon, despite the deformity, wouldn't that be even better?

The thought made her smile, knowing well that her feelings failed to surface on her face. [Image 2]

And the world became blurry once again, his voice vanishing in the darkness, leaving behind a sweeter sound of depthless pain.