!Now available on ao3! Same name, same author!
boketto (Japanese)
- the act of gazing vacantly into the distance without thinking.
*~-~*
In which young Y/n is shown there's more to life than fulfilling a duty.
And a young Tanjiro learns that first...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
..the more openly it remains a figure of speech, the more it is a dissimilar similitude and not literal, the more a metaphor reveals its truth
Umberto Eco
[ 2 notes today;
1; I was rereading the first few chapters and realized that the gap between my writing phases has made inconsistencies. So I may be updating old chapters, but the information will be the same as current, so you probably don't need to go back.
2; I'm giving a chapter cause we hit 3k reads and we're number 2 in tanjirokamadoxreader rn so :000 thank you :))
Enjoy the chapter
I was stood on a small wooden bridge, bare feet flat against it as calm water sat beneath. There was no rail, but you'd hardly get hurt if you fell off. Maybe a scratch. At least.
It felt awfully bright out, but it didn't bother me. Just a haze over top of my surroundings. Plants, swaying in the wind. Colorful flowers in bloom. The small waterfall we had as decoration a few yards further down the manmade creek trickled gently.
I crouched down, slowly lowering myself onto my knees. With one hand firmly on the wood, I reached down below the bridge. The tips of my fingers made contact with the water, cool and gentle.
"Big sis!" An ever familiar - yet strikingly foreign - voice called out. I perked up, sitting straight and turning towards it. The haze was still persistent, but I took little note. A bit away, on the path, was a familiar figure. Short - a child - with her hair tied up. For some reason, I.... I couldn't make out her face. Like it was blurry.
I smiled, "Do you need something?"
The girl became a bit disgruntled, "Why are you out in the garden with no shoes on?"
"Oh," I breathed out, glancing down at my bare feet. Before I could say anything, though, she chastised.
"You know Mother told you to wear shoes in the garden!" She spoke with false authority, but it was endearing. I remembered that about a year ago, she had decided that Mother and I took on too much work. So she took on the responsibility for making sure we took care of ourselves. A sweet girl. She always was.
With a soft laugh, I pushed myself to my feet, "I know. I'm okay, don't worry."
She wasn't convinced, "You could get sick, though! Or trip on something!"
"Shoes won't stop me from getting sick," I gently reminded, "Nor would they stop me from tripping. You and Mother worry too much."
A low hum was my younger sister's answer, crossing her arms, "Big brother worries too."
"I know," I mumbled, brushing myself off before approaching her, "You should be more concerned about your younger brother, though. Not us older ones."
She quickly countered, "I-I am concerned! I worry about all of you!"
