The more time ticked by, the more the grief—and the rage inside Yami's heart intensified.
He felt lava-like anger bubbling inside his heart. He had his fist clenched, and his nails almost drew blood from his palm.
It took some time for Yami to realize and come to terms with his condition. He felt as if his heart had turned completely numb.
Yami, for the first time, took into account his surroundings. He was in his own house, which was a simple two-room house. The blood had been wiped out from the house, and the mattress on which he had been lying seemed clean.
Yami's train of thought was broken when the wooden gate of his small house was pushed open.
He looked toward the gate, and two people walked in.
The first was a young man in his twenties. He was dressed in the standard Demon Slayer uniform. It seemed the corps of Demon Slayer had saved him.
Yami, though, recognized the second character: Kanae Kocho, the flower Hashira.
Yami, though, did not know if Kanae had become a Hashira or not at this point in time, since she appeared quite young—around 15 years of age.
But one thing was certain: since she was still alive, it meant that the canon was still a few years away.
. . .
The young man beside Kanae was clearly surprised to see Yami awake.
"You are awake?" he asked in a surprised tone, as if Yami's wide-open eyes were not enough proof that he was awake.
The man realized his mistake and looked sheepishly toward Kanae while scratching the back of his head, "We had not expected him to be able to regain his consciousness, at least for another few days."
"It is fine," Kanae said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Her face had a gentle smile as she said, "Now that I am here, I will check on his condition."
The man arrived near Yami and plopped himself on the ground on his knees, "She is Madam Kanae."
He continued with clear awe on his face, "She is a renowned medical expert."
If Yami had known about Kanae and the Butterfly Mansion, he would have scoffed at the idea of this 15-year-old girl being a renowned medical expert.
"I heard that she was traveling from nearby and hence I requested her to check upon you," he added.
"My parents? My sister?" were the first words that left Yami's mouth. Although he knew that they had not survived, these words instinctively left his mouth.
The man's expression turned to one of grim sadness, "They did not survive."
"I know," said Yami monotonously. "I had seen them die, after all."
"Did the demon leave their corpses? And how did I survive? Why did the demon let me live?" Yami asked.
The man was taken aback by the questions, or perhaps by the fact that the boy knew about demons.
He replied after a few moments of silence, "The demon did not let you live. He was being pursued by a group of demon slayers. He was about to kill you when the demon slayers arrived, and the demon fled."
"As for your parents, since the demon fled, nothing happened to their corpses," he added with a grim face.
"Since we had no idea when you would wake up, we gave them a funeral," he replied.
Yami snapped his neck toward the man. The man was taken aback by the sheer intensity in Yami's eyes.
"Are you speaking the truth?" Yami asked as his gaze bore into the man, as if trying to see through any of the lies.
Kanae, who had been silently observing until this time, finally made her presence felt. She approached Yami and sat near him.
"We do not have a reason to lie, Yami," she added gently. "Your family has been granted a respectful funeral not far away from here. If you want, you can build them a memorial."
"Now, can I see your wound?" Though she asked as a request, she had already moved behind Yami to look at the wound.
"Consider yourself lucky, Yami," the man informed him of his medical condition.
"The wood which had pierced your back did not damage any of your rib bones, and neither did it break inside your body; otherwise, it would have been nearly impossible to remove the wooden fragments from your body."
"Even if you had lived, you would have been turned into a cripple," he added.
"How many days have I been unconscious?" Yami asked.
"Today is the third day," the man replied.
Yami did not say anything further. Kanae, meanwhile, inspected the wound for a few moments.
"The injury is recovering fast," she said. "In no time, you will be all fine to walk."
"Now, can you tell me how you came into the knowledge of demons?" she asked with a calm gaze.
"You do not need any special knowledge to know about them," he replied dryly. "When you see one, you know what it is."
"And rumors about certain vile and evil things that cannot be killed always fly around in these parts of the wilderness," he added.
Kanae nodded, but whether she believed it or not was another question.
"How did the demon look?" she asked, and Yami's eyes flashed as if recalling the memory.
It was an ugly piece of shit. Nothing new here, as the majority of them were ugly. He had a crooked... literally crooked face. His hair was blue, and black dots marred the demon's face. He was thin… too thin, but tall—almost 6 feet tall.
"I do not know," said Yami. He had no desire to talk about it to anyone. It was not like specialized units of Demon Slayer would be sent out to search for and kill this particular demon.
Dozens of people, probably, perished at the hands of the demons every day. And the demon slayers were already doing what they could.
Kanae thinned her lips as she muttered, "Stubborn," but she did not say anything further.
She could very well understand the grief Yami would be going through and did not want to push unnecessary boundaries.
"Take your medicine on time," she said as she got up to leave.
The man also got up and followed behind Kanae.
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