Chapter Text
The day had been the way it always had been since he joined the Demon Slayers.
The hours under the sun were spent investigating a lead or preparing for the endless hunt that came every night, helping those who cannot fight them survive the violent attacks by hordes of hungry demons that see humanity as nothing more than prey to be slaughtered.
There were plenty of days when he grew tired of it all, but he had to fulfill his duty; he was unable to protect his growing family when they needed him most, so he needed to save those who could not defend themselves.
The man who was sitting in the warmth of the sunlight sighed.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni was the most respected hashira of his generation. He had helped to create the now widely used breathing styles that pushed back the swarm of creatures that sought their demise. The sun hashira sat down on the engawa to his home, his trusty inky black blade by his side.
He couldn't explain it, but there was something about his Nichrin blade that helped soothe him.
His hair was tied up as it always was when he was awake and alert, the crimson curls framing his gentle face. The colour matched his ruby-hued eyes; he figured that he sometimes unsettles people with his blank expression and birthmark, but he was not one to let his inner emotions out too often. The sun hashira was wearing his usual yellow kimono with pitch black hakama pants and his red haori.
He was listening to the wind as the trees rustled, the various birds chirped like it was the dawn of spring as they flew above him.
This tranquillity, however, was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching. Yoriichi opened his eyes to find his friend Tatsumi Rengoku approaching with a letter of some kind. The man was slim but powerful, his yellow hair with flecks of red made him stand out in every crowd. This had been the man who had found Yoriichi after his late wife, Uta, had been killed by a demon, snatching the life of their unborn child in the process.
“I thought I might find you here,” Tatsumi spoke as he sat down beside the sun hashira. He was wearing his usual garments, though his hair was not tied up like he had expected it to be.
Yoriichi chuffed in amusement, “I would offer you some tea, but I believe you are here regarding that letter in your hand”. The flame hashira laughed as he handed over the letter. “Perceptive as always.”
The red-haired man opened the letter with care before reading, his eyes widened as the news it bore flooded his mind. He swallowed nervously
“My f-father is here to see me. I.. don’t understand.” He shook his head in denial.
Sadatomo Tsugikuni was what people called a Daimyo, a high-ranking samurai lord. When Yoriichi was born, he was the younger son out of a pair of twins. Michikatsu was his older brother.
His mind brought forth the image of the young boy with deep purple hair, who was always well-dressed and kind to him. Their father, on the other hand, did not hide his disregard for the younger twin. He recalled his mother desperately trying to help him in any way she could, but she was often unwell, which eventually took her life.
Fearing for his own safety and wary of their father trying to send Michikatsu to the temple to make him the heir, Yoriichi had left that night of his own volition.
“Why would he be looking for me?” Yoriichi grumbled at the unpleasant reminder of his childhood, his brow furrowed.
Tatsumi shifted uncomfortably before speaking. “I overheard a bit of conversation when Ubuyashiki was talking to your father. He said that something had happened to your brother, but he didn’t say anything further-”
It had been all he needed to hear before he rushed off to the Ubuyashiki mansion, leaving Tatsumi in the dust.
Yoriichi’s heart thundered as he approached the outline of the massive estate. ‘What’s happened to Michikatsu? Has he died? Is that why Father is here?’ The questions raced through his mind one after another as his breath became shaky from the anxiety of it all. Finally, he entered the mansion and stopped just outside the guest room.
Akito Ubuyashiki opened the shoji doors.
“I knew you would be here. Come in.” The head of the Demon Slayers coaxed him inside. Yoriichi hastily buried his emotions back down inside him before he turned and found himself looking at an older man. Though time had aged him, the visage of his father had not changed. Though he did not seem so easily irritable as he was when he was younger.
Sadatomo was wearing a fine duck egg blue kimono, with cranes embroidered into it.
The ponytail Yoriichi recalled was gone, replaced by a reversed topknot, yet his composure was always as noble as their lineage. The once suspicious sheen in his purplish eyes had vanished, tiredness in its place.
The Daimyo sighed and bowed in a way that shocked Yoriichi to his core. “Thank gods, you are still alive.”
“What is this?” The sun hashira questioned as Akito gestured for him to sit down. Rose tea was ready on the low table; it was his favourite. He took in the scent, letting it soothe his agitation.
“Yoriichi, my son...” The lord started before pausing for a moment. “...before I say anything else. I want to apologise to you. I know that I did not treat you as my own son when you were a boy, and I have been looking for you since you disappeared. It was your mother’s dying wish that we could be a happy family.” He tenderly placed an aged letter on the table.
He knew in an instant that it was his mother’s handwriting. Even in her dying days, she continued to write and sew when he had the energy for it.
“I-I see...” The sun hashira stuttered, “I was told that something has happened to my brother.”
Akito and Sadatomo looked at each other before the Daimyo spoke once again. “Do not fear, your brother has not died. I actually came here to gather some information on what has happened to him. It was Ubuyashiki who told me that you work here. The truth is… He has changed. Into a creature of some kind. Not a demon but something else. I have my suspicions, but I wanted to confirm them.”
The red-haired man blinked in surprise. Sure, he was relieved to hear that his brother was alive, but...
“What did he change into?”
With that, Akito pulled out a book from his shelves and opened it before laying it out before the sun hashira; Yoriichi took the book and read it. ‘…Known for their ability to lead men to their doom by using songs to hypnotise them, Sirens have historically only been sighted towards the European continent. More often female in nature, there are rare cases of male sirens…’
“A siren?”
“That’s right. Looking back now, I think that this was the key to the illness that took your mother’s life. The reason why she was so weak all the time. You see, your mother was not born into the nobility; she was found by the coast as a child and raised by a noble family who could not have children of their own. I was not aware of this until after she had died, when she turned to sea foam upon her deathbed.”
“...and having a siren for a mother would make you more likely to become the same creature no matter your gender. Though I’m guessing it happens more when there is a girl born into the family,” Ubuyashiki filled in the rest.
Sadatomo nodded in respect towards Yoriichi’s master, “Very good. Michikatsu turned into this creature about four years ago now. The night before his wedding. I have a feeling that he had been suppressing his transformation for some time, so when it did happen by force, it was painful. So painful that I had to make out that he had been killed to the bride and her family.”
The thought of Michikatsu being in agony was a sad one, one he removed from his mind before it could upset him.
Sadatomo finally bowed again before speaking. “You must come home, Yoriichi. I need an heir, and Michikatsu is becoming more difficult by the day. The book says that having a close relative like a sibling nearby can be soothing for them.”
“I have a life here, a purpose! I can’t just throw that away, it would be dishonourable-”
“We always have procedures in case situations like this take place; there have been plenty of slayers who had to return home in this war-torn era,” Akito noted. “This would be an honourable discharge. You have done more for the demon slayers than many would in their whole lifetime. You can return home, Yoriichi. No one would hold that against you; you just have a different duty to your family now.”
He was not happy at all. Yoriichi turned away to hide the anger developing in his soft features.
“Then, when do we leave?” He growled lowly.
-
Though it was dark, the algae that grew in the cave system made it seem as if he were looking at the night sky. It glowed a shocking electric blue colour that lit up the cave system around him. Some of it was even floating on the water. The sea water was cool but not cold. He loved the feeling of it seeping into his scales as he swam.
As he swam in his home, he couldn’t help but wonder when dinner was going to be sent through that door at the top of the cave system, then he reflected.
Michikatsu had been born first, then Yoriichi had followed.
He had always felt sorry for his neglected little brother, then they had both discovered Yoriichi’s skill in swordsmanship. He had been envious, wanting to reach legendary heights like the warriors in song and books. He was supposed to have a family and inherit the castle with the daimyo title once his father died.
Now, that would never happen, yet in a way, he preferred this life.
No expectations, no need to marry, with all the freedom and comfort he could ask for.
He was still treated as the son of a lord would be expected to be treated. Yoriichi would have to inherit, he guessed, but he was excited to have his younger brother return home. He wondered if Yoriichi would turn into a siren too, though he guessed that it might be a bit late for that, considering their shared age.
His stomach growled, and as if on cue, the door above him opened and a massive headless tuna was dropped into the centre of the lake. He ripped the fish apart, savouring each bite. His large, sharp fangs meant he could crush the bones of fish and humans alike. His tail was a rich purple colour with black stripes and sharp-looking fins that almost glowed with the iridescent lavender hue he had become accustomed to.
Tonight, they had fed him fish. Sometimes, though, it was prisoners from his father's dungeon that he would be treated to. Tied up but still alive. He enjoyed choosing whether he should drown them first or simply eat them while they struggled in his grasp. He looked down at the bones that were building up at the bottom of the lake; he would soon have to toss them around the cave system so his father's men could get rid of them.
His thoughts then returned to his younger twin.
Michikatsu was looking forward to Yoriichi’s return...