Defeat. A word Kokushibo dealt countlessly to demon slayers for over 400 years. He bested every single one without any issue. Hashira were fierce, but even a Hashira couldn’t compare to the immeasurable power that Muzan’s Upper Rank One wielded. With the destructive and chaotic Moon Breathing by his side, no demon slayer had ever lived to relay the information on his technique to anybody. Defeat was too swift for them to even think about telling the next person about Kokushibo’s abilities.
Seeking the Blue Spider Lily was his number one priority. Pleasing Muzan was his main goal in the use of his gifted immortality and immeasurable power. Second to his main goal, he seeked strength. Honing his Moon Breathing to perfection. A residual memory burned deep inside him. A memory suppressed and burnt to ash by the demonization process sat deep within him, still very much alive. The purpose of sharpening his forms and blood demon art past the limits of any demon.
All to surpass him.
But defeat was his to consume tonight. Reaching the newest heights of his power, he has conquered beheading. However, this was not the warrior he’d sought after. A demon as ugly as him deserved the fate that awaited him. That being his last sight: the demon slayers. Three Hashira and a demon-human hybrid of all things was all it took. To be held at bay by an imitation. He could not begin to fathom the weight of Muzan’s disappointment in him.
How embarrassing. He thought. The demon slayers had become strong. Those blades. Bright red. Burning every cell in my body. Using derivative forms. Inferior forms…much like my own. I had sacrificed everything...just to attempt to surpass him. But what is a fading candle in comparison to the staggering sun. Yet...
He had found himself standing in a dark void. He turned his head left and right and saw nothing but darkness. He looked down at his own body and could see it clearly. He shifted his foot to find he was standing in what seemed to be an endless pool of very shallow water. He felt the water heating up below him. A faint red light began to manifest deep underneath him within the water, flickering like a wild blaze. The water continued to heat as he began to sink slowly. He attempted to shift his feet more vigorously, as he calmly fought the sinking. But it was for naught. The water began to consume him. As he fought against the now boiling waters, dragging him deeper into the ever growing red light, he felt an emotion of something old. Something he hadn’t felt in centuries. Something he dare not say out loud.
I’m...going to hell..? His light struggle evolved into a frantic flailing. He tried to step up onto nothing but he made no progress. The water continued to consume him. It began to pass his stomach. Yes...I’m going to hell… As the water began to pass his chest, his body slowed it’s movements, half of his own volition and half from the searing waters. To become...so ugly...and so worthless… He looked down once again, and saw his reflection in the water. His three pairs of eyes stared back at him, detesting what they saw. Heh...what a fitting look...a demon...nothing more…simply returning home... With a blank expression, tears crept to his eyes. One fell into the water with a loud hiss. He looked directly up and saw something he didn’t expect: a faint and distant white light. Tears rolled to the back of his neck as they overflowed from all six eyes as he reached up with a heavy and boiling arm. The water turned into what felt like tar and was already engulfing up to his face. His body felt as if it were lying on the surface of the sun but not given the privilege of death. He outstretched his hand to the light, even though it felt as if his arm were made of lead.
Brother...is that you..? He sank beneath the water, his arm remained above the surface, reaching helplessly for something he could not touch. He slowly grabbed at the light completely in vain. You came… to watch me descend to hell..?As he sank, he saw everyone he had left behind gathered around his extended arm standing upon the water. His faceless mother and father, his father’s faceless vassal, his faceless wife and children, his faceless samurai comrades. The amount of people grew to innumerable amounts, now including those he had slain. So many came to watch him drown in the folly of his spirit, as well as the folly of his decisions. As the water began to creep up his wrist, the countless people he’d let down and murdered began to walk away from his sinking form. He didn’t blame a single one. Murdering scores of innocent people ensured that. Even the murder of a single innocent damned him to this fate.
Before the scalding water claimed his body and soul, he felt something. A different warmth. One in his outstretched hand. What is this..? So familiar… Kokushibo took hold of the warmth and his sinking halted. The warmth sat perfectly within his palm and fingers. Another trick...false hope, perhaps to punish me..? Against his thoughts, the warmth seemed to reverse his sinking, as he began to rise above the surface of the water. The burning sensations that the water offered began to fade as his arm, and now his head, broke the surface and rose above it. He immediately looked to his hand to see another young and strong but disembodied hand, holding his own with a tender grip. As the burning began to fade, his body was completely above the surface. He floated there for what felt like an eternity, inches above the water that was only moments ago claiming his soul.
The disembodied hand dropped Kokushibo onto his feet, this time not sinking into the water. Rather, the water sent a single ripple from his position into the infinite darkness, bringing light. The light emanated from what seemed to be a mock sun directly above him in front of a brilliant blue sky. Clouds took shape, accentuated by vermillion outlines. The disembodied hand began to lower in front of Kokushibo. An arm started to materialize. It continued to construct a person from the hands and feet up to its neck. At the same time, black hakama trousers and a red haori sewed into existence, hugging loosely to the forming person. Kokushibo instantly knew who it was at this point. Regardless, he remained silent and reserved as his younger brother’s person completed its materialization. Yoriichi came to Kokushibo in the image of his young and strong self. He looked at Kokushibo with that same blank expression that he remembered since childhood.
“Hello, Brother.” Yoriichi said softly. “It has been quite some time.”
“Yes…” Kokushibo replied, as if he’d known this conversation was going to occur. “400 years or so.”
“Ah, I see. About time, it would seem.” Yoriichi said, coldly. Kokushibo felt that deep hatred for his younger brother well up once again. However, he couldn’t help but agree with him. For something that lived so long and so disgustingly, his death couldn’t have come soon enough. Something nagged at Kokushibo’s thoughts. Yoriichi wanted nothing more in his life than to slay Muzan. But when he found that his own brother had become a demon, Yoriichi felt the responsibility to destroy such a demon landed on his own shoulders. He bore this burden alone. Centuries later, Yoriichi had the look of unshaken indifference in his expression. Despite it all, Kokushibo felt a hopeful energy his younger brother was emitting.
“Brother,” Kokushibo questioned, “why are we here? What have you done?” Yoriichi closed his eyes and shook his head once at the questions, then reopened his eyes.
“I should be the one asking what you have done. You are my brother, yet demon blood runs in your veins. And for so long, it has embedded itself into your very nature. It seems as though you are always in the position to demand answers but never in the position to deserve them.”
“Enough!” Kokushibo raised his voice, swiping his hand outward across his body to emphasize his frustration. Yoriichi did not flinch. “What is the meaning of this? Tell me what you have done to reverse my death that I… so rightly deserve.” At this point, Kokushibo recoiled slightly at the sight. A translucent womanly figure wearing an opaque, white veil with the kanji for “Sun” and “God” over her face faded into vision behind Yoriichi. She clung closely to Yoriichi, her pale and frail arms wrapped gently around his torso. Mixed and hushed whispers crept into Kokushibo’s ears as the woman gazed in Kokushibo’s direction. An instinctual chill ran down his spine, unnerved by the sudden appearance of this ghostly woman. Yoriichi, on the other hand, was unfazed at the apparition. Kokushibo’s eyes widened as he deduced who she was. “Brother...is that..?”
“There’s little time to explain.” Yoriichi interjected. “I apologize for my curtness, but I’m not sure how much of this information will remain with you.” Yoriichi took a breath. The woman in white rested her chin on his shoulder, giving a patient tilt of her head. Kokushibo noticed her otherworldly image was completed by her levitating inches and barefoot above the water. Yoriichi continued. “I am offering my soul back to her so that you may live once more for a very slim chance at redemption. Should you fail in this endeavor, you will have damned your soul twofold, and she keeps my own soul for eternity. Should you succeed, however, you will be spared the horrors and suffering of hell… and I may find peace in my death all those centuries ago.”
Kokushibo felt a reactionary, hollow desire to refuse the bargain. He opened his mouth to respond with venom but quickly shut it. He then realized that he was no longer influenced by Muzan’s cells. Demon blood still flowed through him, but his connection to Muzan had been severed the moment his body crumbled entirely. He no longer felt Muzan’s presence. His decisions, after 400 years, were finally his own. With his true feelings and conscience intact, he decided to make a decision completely of his own accord and reconsidered the offer.
“And should I refuse?” Kokushibo questioned.
“Then nothing would change.” Yoriichi responded simply. Kokushibo believed that then he would return to his damnation in hell and his brother would belong to the kami anyways.
“What brought you to this...kindness?”
“We are brothers.” Yoriichi responded flatly but infallibly. “Need I any more reason? I see you still have the flute. You kept it after my death and until after your own demise?”
“...” Kokushibo felt the pouch carrying the flute in question beneath his kimono. In the end, though he carried himself with hatred for his younger brother, he couldn’t help the fact that they loved each other first. He wanted to protect Yoriichi from the dangers of the world. He wanted to become a samurai. To be the older brother and protect his sibling with his own mortal body. Even though he had failed in this and their roles reversed, he couldn’t help but unconditionally love his brother. This love broke the dam of hatred and came rushing back and struck him like a tsunami, but he remained composed and seemingly unmoved.
“Please, consider my offer with haste.” Yoriichi said, breaking Kokushibo from his reminiscing.
“Even...after all that I’ve done…?” Kokushibo tried to look away from Yoriichi, but felt an outside force influencing him to look his brother in the eyes as he said that. “The countless people I have killed? The lives I have destroyed?! And yet here you stand, speaking to the gods as though they were your own kin…” Yoriichi’s expression didn’t change. A twist of hate tried to reignite in Kokushibo’s heart as he clenched his jaw. Even in death, he thought, he makes deals with otherworldly beings? I know my requests to do the same for him would fall on deaf ears… still… He relaxed his body and calmly delivered his answer. “I accept.” Kokushibo could see what looked like the ghost of the haunting smile his brother gave only a handful of times. This time it felt more comforting than anything else.
“Thank you... Michikatsu.” Yoriichi stepped forward and stopped an arm's length away from Kokushibo. Yoriichi lightly placed his hand onto Kokushibo’s shoulder. He flinched at the utterance of his true name given at birth. At the same time, he felt a small hand take his own. He looked to his occupied hand and was surprised to see a young Yoriichi gently holding his calloused hand. The young Yoriichi looked up at him, expressionless, but a glimmer of hope could be seen deep in his eyes. And finally, he felt a final hand on the center of his back. He looked over his shoulder to see Yoriichi’s elderly form that made the one attempt on Kokushibo’s life, tears in his blinded and aged eyes.
Kokushibo turned back to the adult version of his brother. The veiled woman was gone. Yoriichi gave him a slight nod as Kokushibo’s vision began to be engulfed by a mix of a bright white and a deep crimson. He heard all three forms of his brother give his final blessing to him in perfect unison.
“Good luck, Brother.”
~
Kokushibo’s eyes shot open. He sat up quickly, his vision still hazy. His vision began to focus as he scanned his environment. Looking up through the canopy of rustling leaves, he saw that the sun had already set, mixing the sky with shades of red and tints of amethyst. Hmm, the hour of the dog…? He cast his eyes down to ground level and saw thick brush and winding, swamp-like trees. The ground was firm, but damp. The air was weighted by the swamp’s humidity. A mire, it seems... Before he continued his observations, he shot his left hand down to his waist and felt a familiar distorted scabbard. The eyes in the spaces of the handle’s wrap and guard continued giving him extended sight. Realizing this, he turned over to a puddle of water next to him. He gazed into it, seeing he retained his demonic, six-eyed form. “Upper Rank 1” remained stained on his center two irises. He sighed, frustrated with his appearance.
He stood up with a dejected posture. During which, he thought about his encounter with his brother. Redemption… He pondered Yoriichi’s intention for him. Pieces of what had happened in limbo had begun to fade from his memory like a dream. He consciously held on to important pieces of information that had transpired as he trekked forward through the winding mire.
He could hear the life forms all around him. Most sounded to be insects, but there was distant rustling of what sounded like something larger. He moved like a ghost in the now thickening fog, making little noise, and keeping his eyes on the lookout for any kind of major movement. He pushed past bush after bush until he reached a small clearing of moss and mud that was lit by a calming moonlight. As he stepped into the open, he heard a ghostly howl followed by resonating howls from the opposing treeline. He continued despite the threatening howls now growing in volume. He focused his eyes on the treeline seeking the source of the howling, but was surprised to find nothing. The Transparent World...if there are wolves, then I should be able to detect them through the brush. Another thought, more haunting than the last, crossed his mind. Wolves in Japan went extinct...so, am I not in Japan anymore?
Before he could delve into deeper concern, the source of the howling showed itself. A light green mist flowed from the treeline and spilled into the edges of the clearing. Countless timberwolves varying in size emerged behind the lime colored mist, completely surrounding and circling Kokushibo. Although almost unmoved by the horrific sight before him, he was now truly concerned about this new environment that seemed to defy the laws of his home world. Wolves...made of wood? He drew his katana, its wicked design and myriad of eyes was retained alongside his body. Now then, let’s see if my blood demon art remains as well.
“Moon Breathing,” He drew in a large amount of air, expanding the size and strength of his muscles. The timberwolves readied a combined attack at the same time. He readied his stance to deal his attack. “Fifth Form,” he gripped his sword as he brought it to his side, ready for the ideal moment to strike. The timberwolves made the first move and collectively charged Kokushibo’s position. Once all of the wolves were well within Kokushibo’s range, he released his attack alongside his blood demon art. “Moon Spirit Calamitous Eddy.” He made multiple horizontal slashes layered one on top of the other, each slash unleashed countless crescent moon blades scattering chaotically around him. They continuously changed size and speed, shredding every single timberwolf into a hail of sticks and splinters. Ghostly howls bellowed from each fallen timberwolf that clattered in pieces onto the ground.
He exhaled with a low hiss. He panned his eyes slowly from his right to his left. His sword offered a wider range in his vision to see behind himself. All of his eyes detected no more movement. My techniques are still here, at least. He stood up straight from his stance and slid the katana back into its scabbard. After which, he knelt down and examined the now inert timberwolves. He looked the chunks of timber over and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He ran his fingers lightly on the trunk, tracing the slash marks from his attack. The wood was hard and dry, despite the ambient humidity. How peculiar… He looked at the moon’s height. Despite it being the early hours of night, he decided it was best not to ponder the nature of this new world without knowing if the length of night was the same as his old home.
He stood, quickly continuing his trek through the foreign swamp. Moving between trees and pushing through more thickened brush, he came to a new, but smaller clearing. Strange bottles hung from the low branches only a few feet above his head by loosely woven string. As he walked deeper into the clearing, he looked into each bottle. They all seemed to be completely empty with a layer of condensation on the outside of the bottle. He cast his eyes to the large tree trunk that all of the branches were connected to. A small window-like hole was emitting light from it. A door to the apparent abode is adjacent to the window. He approached the door, taking note of its abnormally small size as the top of the door only reached to his collarbone. He listened closely and heard slight movements from within.
Although not intimidated by whatever was inside the abode, he stood with his left hand resting on the pommel of his katana. With his opposite hand, he used his index finger’s knuckle to knock politely on the door. As he waited, he listened closely through the door again. The movements seemed to stop for a moment followed by steps approaching the door. The steps were almost inaudible through the door even for his sharpened senses. The door opened slowly, only slightly ajar. Kokushibo was surprised by the sight.
A chestnut skinned woman, adorned by golden rings around her neck and piercing her ears, peeked her head out from behind her door. She traced her eyes upward until her eyes met Kokushibo’s. Her jaw lowered a small amount and her eyes grew whiter, even more shocked than Kokushibo was by the sight before her.
“Hello..?” Kokushibo said carefully, not able to mask his intimidating aura. “I apologize for the intrusion.” The Transparent World remained his to behold, as he examined her quickening heart rate and trembling muscles. He assumed his sight didn’t work on the timberwolves due to their lack of muscles, vessels, and the like. Fear was running rampant in her body, despite Kokushibo’s gentle greeting. The woman seemed to calm herself slowly, realizing that he meant no harm, evident by his greeting and relaxed posture. Opening the door wider, she revealed to be skimpily dressed. A black and white striped wrap covered her chest with a thinner strip crossing over her shoulder. A waist cloth of the same material and design clung to her hips and reached halfway down her thighs.
“Hello,” The woman began, “and who might you be? I know I have never met a person with eyes in pairs of three.” Kokushibo was utterly shocked to see her abnormally casual reaction to his appearance. And what surprised him even more is that he understood her perfectly. Such exoticism, yet he understood every word. But it was strange, it was as if he were talking in two languages at the same time. Hearing one, but interpreting it in another. The thought forced his head to begin to spin.
“My name is Kokushibo.” He introduced himself by his demon alias, his true name being far above and beyond his form as a demon. He bowed slightly at the waist in introduction. He retracted his bow, looking intensely at the stranger before him. Fascinating..
“Ah, a very foreign name and face indeed.” She relaxed in her rhyme to the point of even cracking a smile. “I am Ancora, ready to help you who seems in dire need.” She quickly looked him up and down, noticing his lack of anything but a gnarly blade in its scabbard and the clothes on his back. Her sense of hospitality overpowered her unsettled nerves over the strange scabbard and hilt as she prodded for any issue with the strange man. “Are you hungry? Or maybe lost?” She had a look of, what seemed like, concern on her face. “I can assist you without the worry of cost.” Kokushibo sighed in relief that he stumbled upon a decent person in his first interaction in such a strange place.
“Thank you, miss.” Kokushibo exhaled. “But all I need at the moment is a place to stay for the upcoming day.” It was at this moment that he noticed another strange anomaly within himself. A completely defenseless person standing before him, yet not an ounce of bloodlust from within himself. He had not eaten a human for what was surely several hours now at the very least. Utilizing his breathing and blood demon art, he expected himself to be a bit on the peckish side to say the least. However, he did not seem to feel compelled to kill and eat the would-be vulnerable prey before him. Instead, the grinding voices in his head went completely silent as all that was left was his own voice. A space in his thoughts once occupied by the desire to kill and devour, now replaced by emptiness, silence, and loss of direction and purpose.
“Of course!” Ancora said, stepping aside and allowing entrance to her tree home. “Please, show yourself in and make yourself at home. I’m sure you must be tired from wandering this swamp all alone.”
Kokushibo ducked his head as he entered the abode. As he stood up straight, his head was but a few inches from the abode’s ceiling. With a click behind him, Ancora closed the door. He looked about the inside of the surprisingly spacious tree home. A circular wooden table took up most of the center space. On it were various herbs, none familiar to him, strewn about the tabletop around a small mortar and pestle. Shelves built into the tree’s inner trunk lined each wall, all holding a collection of strange jellies, branches, liquids, and even some insects all sealed within small jars. The walls were decorated with local flower arrangements and even some strange masks that hung flush with the walls. He quickly noted the sweet, natural smell that seemed to occupy all of the airspace within the home.
He removed his mud ridden sandals next to the front door and proceeded inside, continuing to look around at the many eye-catching sights within. Ancora stepped by him, his stocky frame taking up more space than she expected. She gave a small waving gesture for him to follow her. He followed, as instructed, closely behind. On the far end of the home, she revealed a spiraling staircase downward. She descended, minding her head as she continued her descent. Kokushibo followed but struggled as he had to almost crouch and shimmy his way downstairs under the flooring.
As they made it to the bottom of the staircase, he noticed that the dimly lit room here had a lower ceiling than upstairs as his head was now hunched forward and he had to bend his knees slightly just to not bump his head. Ancora picked up small chests and other odds and ends off of what looked to be a shelf and placed them off to different sides. As she continued, it became clear that the shelf turned out to be a fairly large cot fashioned of loosely threaded cloth strips and sturdy looking branches. It didn’t look particularly comfortable.
“I am truly sorry, but this storage space and bedding is all that I can spare.” Ancora laid out a thickly woven blanket over the weaved layer. Once she finished, she turned to face her guest. She looked a little bit downcast as she made eye contact with Kokushibo. “But feel free to come and go as you please for something to eat or some air.” She gave him a friendly smile, to which he replied with a silent nod. She gave a friendly but cautious smile to Kokushibo as she bypassed him and ascended the staircase. He approached the bed and sat down. He placed his sword down on the floor and took in a deep breath. For the first time in almost four centuries, he felt a faint fatigue. His body felt heavy as he laid back onto the cot and closed his eyes for what he meant to be a few minutes.
~
“…use me..”
Kokushibo stirred awake slowly at the voice speaking to him. At first it sounded distant, but quickly grew near.
“Excuse me…”
He instinctively shot awake and sat up quickly. Ancora jumped back slightly at his speed. Kokushibo shot his eyes around the room, remembering that the events of the previous night were not constructs of his imagination. He felt a cold sweat trickle down his spine.
“I’m sorry to intrude and startle you awake.” Ancora apologized, inching her hand closer to Kokushibo’s shoulder. “I wondered if you were hungry, so I can see what I can make.” Kokushibo calmed himself once her hand made contact with his shoulder. He felt that he had dozed off for a little bit it seemed. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, knowing his gaze was an intimidating one. He tried to give a smile of gratitude, but it came at a certain difficulty.
“It’s quite alright.” Kokushibo sat up fully and threw his legs over the side of the cot. He felt his hunger rush him down all at once. However, it wasn’t the hunger for human flesh. If it was, he knew he would’ve already slaughtered this defenseless woman. Rather, his creeping hunger was, for once, a hunger for normal food. He stowed his shock and responded to her offer. “And yes, I would appreciate something to eat actually. Thank you very much.” Ancora smiled.
“It is of no issue to help you.” Ancora stood up straight, Kokushibo followed in suit only after he retrieved his sword. They began to climb the cramped stairway once again after what felt like Kokushibo to be an hour. Ancora reached for the cellar door handle. “After all, I have already prepared a morning meal for two.”
“Morn..?!” Kokushibo was only able to get that much out before Ancora opened the cellar door. Next to it’s entrance on the ground floor was an open window. Morning light quickly spilled into the cellar. Kokushibo jumped to the side as the light was too fast for him to react. He felt its touch against his exposed hand as he landed in the most recessed corner of the cellar. Ancora quickly turned at the quiet retreat and saw Kokushibo with a serious face. Her face shifted to confusion as to why her guest seemed to be stricken with some fear.
Kokushibo felt his own hand that the sunlight had grazed. He inspected it with surprise to see that the sunlight had not affected him at all. He put his arm down and slowly approached the stairway once again. He squinted at the sunbeams inches away from him. Using the same hand that was exposed just moments ago, he allowed his fingertips to be bathed in the sunlight. He felt no sensation of pain. His body didn’t disintegrate. The sunlight felt warm against his pale skin that had been cold as a corpse for hundreds of years. He couldn’t help but smirk quickly at the forgotten feeling. He slowly stepped into the sunlight, letting his body be washed in morning warmth. He closed his eyes and felt as though the light pushed him side to side in small waves.
Ancora watched in awe as this man before her seemed to sway drunkenly in the morning light. His behavior was very strange to her to say the least. She continued up the staircase quietly, hoping not to disturb the man. She placed multiple sliced fish alongside mixed vegetables onto a larger plate for her guest. She served herself a smaller portion and then placed the plates onto a small table separate from her working table. Once she finished pouring tea into small teacups, she heard a light shuffle behind her. She turned to see Kokushibo much closer to her than he sounded. Kokushibo looked over the breakfast, his serious visage returned to him.
“Thank you very much, um...” Kokushibo couldn’t remember her name as it was quite outside of his native tongue. She chuckled.
“Ancora. Please have a seat.” She gestured to the empty chair across from her own. “I hope you don’t mind fish in place of other meat.” She took her seat and Kokushibo mirrored her in his own seat. He placed his sword next to him leaning against the wall.
“I actually prefer fish.” He put his hands together and offered a prayer to the gods, something he hadn’t done in quite literally ages. Offering prayers to the gods over his “meals” was ridiculous. Even as a demon, he knew better. But this was finally something different. A meal that didn’t scream or beg for its life before he devoured it. He almost felt human again despite the nausea he now felt in the pit of his stomach. “Thank you for this meal.” He whispered inaudibly. He took up the small fork and politely began eating his meal.
They ate in relative silence. Ancora was more open about her curiosity towards him than Kokushibo was with her. She would occasionally ask a question in which Kokushibo responded with a vague or cryptic answer. Where he was from, what does his name mean, how long has he been traveling, and what exactly was he. That question burned him up. He felt different but the choice to become something else is what defined him as a demon. A choice like that was simply impossible to escape. As defensive Kokushibo was with this stranger, it didn’t douse Ancora’s curiosity. In fact, it further fanned the flame. Even after they ate and Kokushibo bid his host farewell, indebtedness, and deep gratitude, Ancora stood by her door with many burning questions. None would be answered as he disappeared from her sight into the brush with seemingly no particular direction. Still, it’s a small visit that won’t be forgotten by her.
~
As Kokushibo walked in daylight for the first time in what felt like forever, he enjoyed every sight and sound as if it were the first time. The bugs of the swamp, the sunbeams peaking through the canopy, the birds chirping, and the morning warmth on his skin filled him with a joy he had not gotten used to yet. Every time a sunbeam glazed over his eyes, his memories came back to him. It was like pictures being shown behind a bamboo lattice. Snippets of a life that were once his. The remembrance was bittersweet. As he continued to wander, the sunlight became slightly diluted with a creeping fog that slowly rolled in. He stepped out of the brush onto what looked like an unimproved road. He followed the road closely.
It wasn’t long until Kokushibo reached another small clearing. However this clearing was bisected by a cliff. At the edge of this rocky cliff was a stone bridge that extended into a much more thick fog. He peered around and underneath the bridge and saw thick stone supports that extended downward into more fog, seemingly bottomless. The bridge looked rather recently built as the stones remained fairly clean with a layer of morning dew laid onto the whole bridge. He started to cross the bridge, noticing traces of wagon tracks on the transition from the mire’s soil to the hard, cut stone.
The cliff where he had originated faded quickly to the fog behind him. The sounds of the mire also quieted with each step until he was left with nothing but a light breeze in his ear. The air chilled with the wind. He rested his left palm onto the pommel of his sword, ready for any kind of surprise to hit him. He walked for what felt like nothing less than fifteen minutes.
“Halt!” A thundering voice suddenly rang out. Kokushibo slowed to a total stop. The fog around him was still as thick as ever. He scanned left and right in front of him. He found this fog odd. The Transparent World gave him extended visual range. Something natural like fog shouldn’t impede him at all. Yet here it looked like any regular fog that can obscure anyone’s eyes. He tensed, well aware that his environment wasn’t as powerless as it seemed. The voice came again. “What is your business here?” Kokushibo tried to pinpoint the voice, but it sounded as if it came from all directions.
“I’m a traveler.” Kokushibo tried to match the volume but failed. “I’m lost and simply need a map of the area.”
.
.
.
.
.
“Come forward at a half pace.” The voice ordered.
Kokushibo complied. He stepped with care and steadiness ahead of him. The fog quickly cleared with the sunlight returning in full strength, forcing him to bring his hand up and shield his eyes. Once his eyes adjusted, he brought his hand down. He was in awe. A massive portcullis before him. The wall it had been built into wrapped around an extravagant castle. The castle was built on a naturally formed pillar of stone. The castle was built high with spires reaching into the sky. Along the walls, sentries clad in golden armor marched and surveyed outwards. Watchtowers divided sections of the walls. Atop the towers, Kokushibo could see what appeared to be ballistas.
The portcullis before him rumbled and shook, catching his attention. It slowly began to rise up around eight feet and then came to a halt.
“Enter and wait, traveler.” The voice’s source became clear. A large man in more accented armor at the top of the gate, peered confidently over the wall and down at Kokushibo. Kokushibo stepped past the ajar gate as it slammed down and shut behind him. Another portcullis stood before him, but it remained closed for several minutes. He heard a loud rattling to his left. A large iron door made a hefty chunk sound, and then opened.
The man from above stepped into the space between the tall gates followed by two subordinate-looking guards. Now up close, Kokushibo noticed the significant difference between the taller man and his guards. He was more sturdily built than his counterparts. Kokushibo found it laughable that these two smaller men were his guard. Now up close, Kokushibo could see his left pauldron bore a chromatic and simple design of a shining sun.
“Okay, traveler.” The large man started very roughly. He looked startled at Kokushibo’s appearance, but the man did his best to hide his reaction. “What is your name?” One of the guards had a small board, paper, and quill. The guard looked a little sickly underneath his open-faced helm as he took down what Kokushibo assumed was his appearance.
“Kokushibo.” He responded flatly to the guards. He knew that the man in charge was seemingly trying to intimidate him. However, Kokushibo was not shaken in the slightest.
“Odd name.” The man looked at Kokushibo's waist. “What’s a traveler need a sword for?”
“Considering I have no particular destination…I’m sure it’s fairly obvious as to why I would need a sword.”
“Hmph.” The man scoffed. “Well we need to confiscate that before you enter the grounds. You understand, I’m sure.” Kokushibo hummed in agreement. He slid the scabbard from his waist and slowly handed the weapon to the other guard. That guard drew the blade slightly and examined it in a mixture of confusion and disgust.
“What an ugly sword!” The guard exclaimed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” At that moment, the two eyes exposed along the blade quickly locked to the guard holding it. He dropped it suddenly with a gag. “Euh!! Is that thing alive?!”
Kokushibo remained stone faced, using his whole internal voice of reason to keep himself from chuckling at the guard. He reached down and retrieved his sword and scabbard. He closed the blade into the scabbard and handed it to the large man who took the blade with a cautious look. He continued to stare down Kokushibo for a few seconds.
“Listen,” he began with a serious tone, “I don’t know who or what you are, but while you’re here, I’m going to keep a very, very close eye on you.”
“Have you finished harassing our guest, Captain?” A female with an even more thundering voice rang through the checkpoint. Kokushibo winced at the volume and looked to the source of the voice.
On the other side of the portcullis within the castle’s main courtyard stood a young woman with medium skin tone. She had an indigo, midnight blue and black battle skirt that reached to her shins and parted in the fron. She wore a shining silver chest plate that clung tightly to her torso, defending the vital organs within it. A translucent, violet shawl sparkled platinum white stars in the daylight. At her waist hung a short sword in a navy and silver accented sheath. From her back were a pair of folded and eggplant-colored wings. Her hair matched the indigos, blues, and violets of her dress and was held up into a loose ponytail, strands draping over her face like curtain tassels. Her hair was something Kokushibo had never seen before: as though they were housing an early night sky, the “stars” in them twinkling seemingly on their own as if alive. Accenting her hair sat a pitch black tiara, devoid of any visible gemstones. Despite the shocking beauty, she had an irritated look on her face.
“Excuse us, Princess.” The supposed captain responded with a slight bow of his head. “We were simply confiscating this man’s weapon before he entered the premises.” He turned back to Kokushibo and shot him a glare. “Raise the inner gate!” He boomed, not taking his eyes off of Kokushibo’s. The inner gate rumbled and opened to the same eight foot height. Kokushibo moved his eyes to the woman beyond the gate who stood, unmoving. He passed the gate as it closed shut like the first one. Now that Kokushibo was right in front of her, the apparent Princess was also very small in height. A shining, silver, crescent moon-shaped brooch clipped together the shawl made for rain. As for her physique, the Transparent World allowed Kokushibo to examine her in detail and was quite surprised to see she was very sturdily built despite her feminine facial structure. He bowed deeply at the waist before her, now knowing of her royalty.
“Good day, your highness.” He remained bowed. “I apologize… for my unannounced intrusion. My name is Kokushibo.” She looked down on his bowing form, despite his normally towering height over her, with a small scrunch of her nose.
“And exactly what are you?” She asked bluntly with volume. “You obviously are not human.”
“I am… a demon.” Kokushibo responded, hoping something half decent would come of his honesty. He remained bowed in silence.
“Demon..?” She responded curiously. “Raise your head and speak plainly! We have never heard of such a creature.” Kokushibo followed the order and stood up straight. He could see her heart rate quicken a few beats. Kokushibo assumed it was due to his vertical stature compared to hers.
“A demon…” Kokushibo quickly debated on a path to take, when he vaguely remembered what his brother said. The sad and sympathetic look in his eyes gave Kokushibo the guidance he needed. “is a… horrible creature.” He remained silent as his eyes looked past the Princess with shame. She seemed impatient. “A cursed creature…that kills… and feeds on its prey.” He clenched his hand. “No matter how much…it begged for its life…”
“Ridiculous!” The Princess exclaimed. “That is no different from a human.” Kokushibo’s face fell as his eyes diverted further from the Princess’. After a few seconds, his three pairs of eyes returned to her single pair.
“And if that prey… were humans?” Kokushibo asked, almost regrettably, his face giving no sign of aggression nor comfort. If the Princess were shocked or felt fear, he would have noticed immediately. Her heart rate had already returned to normal, but her right arm as well as both wings tensed.
“Do you consider Us a prey item, Mr. Kokushibo?” She pronounced his name perfectly as if she had known him all her life. “Because if that is so, then We must remind you that you are severely unarmed and surrounded. Choose your next words wisely!” Kokushibo only stood there. He could feel the eyes of the multitude of guards who watched over his body very closely for even the slightest movement. He sighed and closed his eyes for a second and then reopened them.
“If I were any other demon, perhaps.” He started, heeding her warning. “As for me, I can assure you that I have no intention of hurting you… or anyone, for that matter.” The Princess examined him closely with squinted eyes, trying to see any hint of deception. What felt like several minutes, she relaxed her tensed arm and wings. She huffed a small breath of what Kokushibo could only assume was relief.
“Very well.” She said, confident in her judgement. Kokushibo was surprised at her sudden shift in mood, going from defensive to regal in a matter of seconds. “You are welcome here, Mr. Kokushibo. We are Princess Luna, Princess of the Moon. We control the rising and setting of the moon. Where you are presently is the Castle of the Two Sisters.” She gestured broadly with one arm at the entire castle.
“I’m honored.” Kokushibo responded almost reflexively. “And again, excuse my interruption.”
“We hear that you are in need of a map.” She said, turning and beginning to march through the courtyard, almost ignoring his apology. Kokushibo quickly caught up and followed her pace behind her.
“Yes. I simply need directions to the nearest town, if it isn’t too much trouble.” They approached a large and heavy looking dark wood double door. It creaked open and allowed both Luna and Kokushibo through.
“It is of no trouble or hindrance.” She said with no fault in her voice. “We will have Our cartographer’s apprentice present you a simple map, posthaste!”
They entered a grand hall. A column of pillars lined symmetrically down the hall. At each one, a relic of some kind sat on a pedestal or in a glass case. They walked up the center following an emerald velvet carpet in between the pillars as he looked into each case and pedestal. The relics varied from scrolls, talismans, staffs, and broken weapons. Once halfway down the hall, he looked upwards to the high ceiling to see a massive mural that spanned the whole length of the hall. The mural was split into multiple epochs. A recurring pair of royalty appeared in each epoch: a female in a white dress with sparkling white-gold and violet-tipped hair alongside a man clad in heavy and blackened armor, wielding a large halberd. He noticed the male figure’s hair resembled the Princess who currently guided Kokushibo.
Luna sharply turned right at the end of the hall through a small doorway. They were now walking down a hall with large windows to one side that exposed another courtyard. Except this one was considerably nicer with four trellises that divided the courtyard into quadrants. All of the trellises converged into a large gazebo in its center. After passing the row windows, the pair made multiple turns through the labyrinth of tightened hallways. Kokushibo was astonished at the beauty and intricacy of the castle. Every corner turned brought another fascinating sight.
They had finally reached their destination. Luna entered the cartographer’s workshop while Kokushibo remained outside. After a quick peek inside, the room looked typical to Kokushibo’s expectations: papers strewn about with measuring tools and various types of quills and pencils. After Luna had spoken to the cartographer, a few seconds passed and she returned to Kokushibo’s side. She handed him a small, rolled piece of parchment.
“For you.” She said aloud. “A map to the nearest town: Ponyville.”
“That was fast.” Kokushibo said, surprised. “I have no money, however…”
“Unnecessary!” She held her chin up and pressed the map into his hand. “For something as simple as a map, a guest need not pay. All We ask of you is to not cause trouble while visiting Our kingdom. Is that understood? Because if it is not, We will be forced to subdue and eliminate you swiftly and mercilessly!”
“Understood.” Kokushibo replied simply despite the aggressive warning and gave a slight bow. “And thank you, Princess. I intend to repay this debt.” She waved her hand dismissively.
“If you wish to repay it, We shall not deny you your desire and We shall keep that in mind. Do as you please.” She looked him in his two center eyes. She looked at the symbols more closely. She felt an odd feeling in the back of her neck. He bowed once more in farewell as he left her presence. Once he had turned the corner and was out of sight, she thought about this feeling. It was a chill as she slowly realized that what had just happened was she read a language that was not her own.
Upper Rank…One? Hmm…
~
Kokushibo continued his journey down the main path that led from the castle. The castle slowly disappeared behind him in the trees. It was midday now and the sun pierced the canopy of trees once again. As he followed the path to the designated junctions on the very simple map given to him, he thought more deeply about the situation he found himself in.
Royalty…kingdom…Two Sisters… Such a strange place. I wonder if it is like this everywhere here. A thought crossed his mind that sickened him to his stomach. Could there be other demons that made it here..?! Perhaps maybe… He then remembered what Luna had said when she first met him. She’s never seen or heard of demons… so maybe I’m the first…hopefully. Either way…I need to be ready for the worst. His mind turned to more immediate matters as he exited the forest and entered an apple orchard. Lodging…money…connections…I need to get all of these things settled. He pulled the parchment from his nagagi and looked at it closely. Through this large orchard…
“Get ‘im, Redwood!” A shrill voice called out loud from across the orchard. An inhuman roar bellowed across the orchard. Kokushibo put the parchment back into his nagagi and picked up his pace towards the sound of the voice and roar. He used the trees to conceal his movement as the yelling got louder.
“Gala! Get the axe! And keep the kids inside!” A deep voice called back at the shrill voice. As Kokushibo approached and hid behind a nearby tree, he saw a large farm hand holding back what looked to Kokushibo like a large, winged lion that brandished a scorpion’s tail. Kokushibo squinted in fascination. The creature looked as though it’d come from a fairy tale. He shook his stupor off and saw the creature reared its tail to attack. The large man had his attention focused on the woman in a nearby barn who was rifling through the equipment.
Kokushibo moved with great speed towards the man. He grabbed the man under his arm and tackled him in his blind spot. Right then, the tail’s stinger crashed into the earth where the farmhand once stood. The two men rolled through the dirt, but Kokushibo recovered and slid across the dirt on his feet before his momentum dissipated. The farmhand named Redwood lay on the ground and looked up to Kokushibo’s back. Seeing the swordsman’s composed stature and still body, Redwood could only think that Kokushibo was a soldier of some kind.
“Who..?” Was all Redwood could say before Kokushibo drew in a slow but deep breath. The manticore pulled its tail from the ground and roared at Kokushibo. His sword remained in its scabbard as he held the grip tightly. The manticore readied a charge, snarling at its target. “It’s gonna charge!” Redwood scrambled to his feet and ran to the barn entrance. When he turned, he saw that Kokushibo hadn’t moved from his spot. He remained still as ever. “Get back! That thing’s gonna trample you!!”
It was too late, as the manticore began its charge. Its quickness was surprising to Kokushibo for its size. Still, the speed was nothing to him. A wild animal making a direct charge was childsplay. “Moon Breathing, First Form…” He readied his attack. Once the manticore was within range, Kokushibo unleashed his attack. “Dark Moon, Evening Palace.” His blade drew at immeasurable speed. From his blade, multiple crescent moon blades emitted and rotated forward. His sword cut through the jaw and skull of the leaping manticore while his crescent blades stopped the momentum the beast carried and shredded it. The manticore dropped to the floor dead and slid forward to a halt, Kokushibo stepping out of its path. With the manticore slain, Kokushibo sheathed his sword, his crescent moons dissipating, and signifying the end of the one-sided battle.
“Sweet apples and caramel…” Redwood whispered under his breath, the woman named Gala cowering closely behind him. Redwood stepped out and slowly approached the swordsman, the woman following close behind, trembling, and still wielding a wood cutting axe. They heard an almost ghostly exhale pass Kokushibo’s lips. “Thanks, mister…?”
Kokushibo turned his head slightly, his face hidden behind the spiked locks of his hair. He stopped himself from showing them his face. Since he knew his appearance was not ever seen, he felt obligated to keep the clarity of his presence to a minimum. “Kokushibo…and your thanks are not necessary… I apologize for the mess…” He felt a massive lack of worthiness of thank you’s. A scornful look and distasteful words were all he wanted to make walking away easier. But he knew it wouldn’t be that easy once he heard that deep voice once again.
“Oh crab apples to that modesty and the little mess!” Redwood chortled after that. He approached the paused Kokushibo. “The name’s Redwood Smith. And this is my wife Gala Smith… Ya gonna turn around and shake my hand, stranger?” He extended his bulky hand to Kokushibo’s back. Kokushibo felt as though there was no other choice. He turned slowly as to hopefully not startle the farmhand. Once his face was in view, Redwood didn’t seem to budge, his wide smile remained plastered on his face. The woman’s face, on the other hand, melted into shock and fear at the sight. Kokushibo kept his eyes fixated on Redwood, unsure if this was simply a daydream. He extended his hand towards the rough farmer’s. Kokushibo was yanked forwards slightly as Redwood grabbed his hand with great force and squeezed tightly. Kokushibo returned the shake slowly.
“My appearance…doesn’t frighten you..?” Kokushibo asked carefully.
“Son, you could have a hundred extra eyes and it’d all mean the same that you protected my wife and I from that manticore there.” Redwood released his grip from Kokushibo’s hand. “Plus, you look human enough. Sound human enough too.” Kokushibo averted his eyes in self disdain. “Is there any way we can repay you..uhh?” He chortled again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name the first time.”
“Kokushibo… and perhaps an apple from your orchard? If it’s of no trouble.”
“Shoot, asking for an apple from an apple farm is too easy!” Redwood placed his hands on his hips. “Well, take some time to think of better repayment while I go get you a basket!” He turned and walked with his wife to his house as they talked amongst each other. Gala made a cautious glance over her shoulder to Kokushibo. Once again, he averted his intense gaze to his left.
He remained in the spot for several minutes while Redwood and Gala entered the cellar of the farmhouse. Kokushibo looked at the cozy structure. In the main window in the front, he could see three separate pairs of eyes peeking over the windowsill. When his eyes locked on to theirs, they quickly dipped under the windowsill. His attention was quickly brought to Redwood once again, now approaching alone with a rather large basket wrapped together with leather strips to make it easier to carry. He dropped the basket with a heavy thump onto the ground.
“Hope this ain’t too heavy to carry.” Redwood rubbed the back of his neck, obviously hoping he hadn’t overdone it. “This was one of the baskets that had the most bright red and emerald green apples we picked this harvest. Normally I’d hate to see ‘em go but I’d be more than happy to give ‘em to someone willing to lay life and limb down for my family.”
“Thank you…” Kokushibo bowed quickly and picked up the basket. He threw the basket over his shoulder and held the thick strap close to his chest as the basket hung close to his back. “I’ll be on my way now.” He started to turn to walk away but was stopped by the large hand on his shoulder. Kokushibo stopped.
“Come back now, ya hear?” Redwood said with a smile. “A basket o’ apples is too small to be repayment. Far as I’m concerned, you’re always welcome here.” He released his hand from Kokushibo’s shoulder.
“I will...” Kokushibo started, but then he stopped to think. In a flash, he changed the end of what he was going to say into it’s opposite. “Very soon…”
Kokushibo left the farm, continuing on the path before him to Ponyville, a small smirk sneaking up on his face.
~
Once he arrived at the outskirts of Ponyville, he took in the sight of the small town. It seemed quiet and uninteresting. He felt it was perfect for him to lay low and out of the way. However, he knew walking straight into town would not be good for the steadiness of the quiet town. Instead, he had opted for a small cottage just outside the town. It was abandoned and decrepit, but it was now his home. The path to the cottage was overgrown and wasn’t used very often. The front door had a bifurcation that worked, but only barely. The inside of the cottage was dusty, covered in glistening webs, and it lacked light. The sun had set an hour prior to him entering the cottage, but he could see well enough in the moonlight. There was even a small, run down couch for him to sleep on for the time being.
He remained in the cottage for multiple days. He cleaned out all of the dust and webbing with an old broom he found in a small closet. At night, he’d enter town with a black cloth sack over his head as a hood to conceal most of his face. He went through the town and asked the townsfolk for various small things that they’d be willing to spare. People in town were apprehensive of the “shade” or “ghost” that only appeared at night and asked for simple and common household items. They were unsettled at first, but since Kokushibo would always thank the citizens with a bow and was very polite when he asked for things, people became used to him surprisingly quick.
Soon, Kokushibo had essentials: lanterns, means to wash his clothes, old pots and pans for cooking, and some of the more generous citizens regularly gave him food and ingredients. These people he was especially thankful to. However kind the people of Ponyville were, he felt this unending feeling of indebtedness to them. He could only imagine how Redwood felt about him in that regard.
Kokushibo went back to Redwood’s home within the month. As a form of repayment, Redwood offered work at Sweet Apple Acres with an increased wage. After negotiation and a drink, they settled on a large wage for a few months until Kokushibo felt the debt was repaid. If he continued to work, he insisted on a lower wage. He would go on to do heavy jobs alongside Redwood. Lifting bales of hay for animals, moving large barrels of apples across the orchard, and Redwood even showed Kokushibo how to drive the combine. One of the myriad of tasks Kokushibo was assigned was that Redwood’s kids would pick apples and place them in the baskets Kokushibo would hold up for them. The kids were a fine source of entertainment for him on the longer work days.
The oldest one, Jam, always acted tough and strong around Kokushibo. However, the boy would always have a quickened heart rate akin to fear or nervousness when Kokushibo would look down at him. The middle child, Bramley, was more reserved than his older brother. He didn’t really speak to Kokushibo, but seemed unnerved as well by his eerie presence and light step. Finally, the youngest of the three: Sweet. She only did home chores with Kokushibo and never did much farm work. She was very small compared to Kokushibo who towered over her. She, of the three siblings, was the most curious about him. She asked him many questions in a small voice. No fear ran through her when he was around or when he looked at her. In one instance, she even asked to sleep in his room out of fear when a thunderstorm rolled in too quickly for Kokushibo to get to his cottage with dry clothes. So when he lodged in their guest room for the night, he allowed the small child to sleep in the bed meant for him as he sat next to the bed in a chair, calmly stroking her back so that she could fall asleep.
Sweet quickly became Kokushibo’s favorite. He treated her like a daughter of his own. Without fail, she was the first in this world to see him smile.