Demon Slayer : Heir to the Moon

The streets of Kizuna Town blurred as I ran, the sound of my footsteps echoing unevenly in the quiet. My chest ached—not from exertion, but from something heavier.

Yuki was getting married. And I'd walked away.

The faint music from the shrine drifted after me, bright and cheerful, oblivious to the weight it carried. To me, it sounded like a dirge.

I stopped near the edge of town, leaning against a tree. The rough bark pressed into my back through my haori, grounding me as my breathing steadied. The throbbing in my head didn't fade.

Was that it?

I'd traveled so far for her, held onto the thought of her for so long. Now she stood in a wedding kimono, promised to someone else. I'd done the honorable thing—stepped aside, let her go. But it didn't feel honorable. It felt like a mistake.

A part of me wanted to keep running, to leave it all behind. Another part wouldn't let me. She's still there, it whispered. I knew where to find her.

I don't recall deciding to return. My feet carried me back through shadowed alleys, avoiding the main roads. I didn't belong at that wedding anymore, but I needed to see her—one last time.

The shrine courtyard was alive with people. Lanterns hung above like scattered stars, their amber glow softening the scene. Laughter and murmurs filled the air—a celebration in full bloom.

I lingered behind a stone pillar, unnoticed. All eyes were on the platform beneath the white silk arch.

There stood Yuki.

Beside her, the groom.

My breath hitched.

She was striking. Her wedding kimono caught the light, its embroidered silk shifting like mist over water. Ornate pins held her hair in place. Her expression was calm, composed—but her hands gripped her sleeves tightly, knuckles pale. She didn't look happy. She looked cornered.

The groom—tall, steady in his black montsuki—reached for her hand.

That's when it broke.

Time slowed as his fingers moved toward hers. Something in me unraveled—jealousy, anger, regret, all tangled into a single, sharp impulse.

I didn't plan it.

I acted.

Shadow Breathing: Ghost Step.

The world blurred as I surged forward, silent and swift. The crowd's startled gasps barely registered. In an instant, I was there—scooping Yuki into my arms.

Yuki's arms gripped my shoulders. Her breath was warm against my neck. Then she lifted her head, eyes wet and fierce.

"Took you long enough, idiot!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face.

I didn't reply. I ran.

Chaos erupted behind us—shouts, footsteps, confusion—but they couldn't keep up. No one could.

We tore through the town, streets flashing by, lanterns swaying in our wake. My legs burned, my lungs screamed, but I pushed on.

We finally reached the edge of town. A small roadside station sat just past the last row of houses—some crates, a water barrel, and a merchant cart being packed for travel. A single lantern hung from a post, casting a warm glow over the area.

The driver from earlier—the same one who'd brought me into town—was there, sitting on a stool and drinking tea. His eyes lifted as we approached, and he blinked in surprise when he saw me, then Yuki beside me in her wedding kimono, out of breath and clinging to my arm.

"…You again?" he said slowly, his voice dry.

"Need a ride," I said between breaths. "Urgent."

He looked us over, eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on Yuki's disheveled clothes and tear-streaked face.

The man let out a long sigh and stood up, brushing off his coat. "You really pulled something, huh?"

"I didn't plan it," I said honestly.

"That makes it worse," he muttered, then glanced around the dark road. "Well… looks like no one's followed you this far."

He stepped aside and gestured to the cart. "Get in. I leave in five minutes."

"You sure?" I asked, still catching my breath.

He gave me a look. "You think I'm going to let you two stand out here and get caught?"

I nodded, helping Yuki up into the back of the cart. She said nothing, her hand still tight around mine. I climbed in after her, and we tucked ourselves between the sacks and crates. The smell of straw and dried vegetables filled the air.

The driver called out from the front. "Where to?"

"Anywhere that isn't here," I said.

He clicked his tongue and gave the reins a tug. "Fine by me."

The cart creaked forward. The town faded behind us.

The cart was tight—rice sacks and pottery crates left little room—but we wedged ourselves inside. He draped the canvas cover over us, plunging us into shadow. It smelled of straw and dust, but it was a refuge.

Yuki sat across from me, her makeup streaked, her dress creased. She scrubbed at her eyes, voice low. "I can't believe you did that. Who storms a wedding?"

"Someone who couldn't walk away," I said, staring at the floor.

She fell silent.

Then, quieter: "Why, Ryo? Why now?"

I met her gaze. "Because seeing him reach for you—it hit me. I couldn't let you slip away like that."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"You said it was too risky," she murmured.

"It is risky. I know that," I said. "But standing there, watching—I realized I'd regret it more if I didn't act."

She trembled, hands twisting in her lap. "And now? My family will disown me for this."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I should've come sooner, found another way. But I'm here now."

"So what's next?"

I reached for her hand. "We figure it out. Together."

Her fingers hesitated, then closed around mine, tentative but warm.

Yuki shifted closer, her head resting against my shoulder.

I am super blushing right now.

"I was so angry when you left," she whispered.

"So was I," I said.

Yuki leaned back slightly, her eyes still red from crying, but calmer now. The weight of everything hung between us, heavy and silent.

She glanced at me. "You really made a mess of things, you know."

I nodded. "I know."

A pause. Then:

"…You can start making it up to me," she said, her voice softer. "When we stop—find me something warm to eat. Maybe dango."

I let out a quiet breath—half a laugh, half relief. "Yeah. Alright."

We sat in silence for a while longer, the wheels of the cart clattering against the road. Outside, the world moved on. Inside, it felt like time had slowed just enough to catch our breath.

The moon hung overhead, pale and distant.

We didn't know what came next.

But tonight, she was here.

And for now—that was enough.

To Be Continued…