Disclaimer:
I do not own nor claim all the rights to 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer; all rights are reserved to its respective creator, Koyoharu Gotōge. This is purely a work of fiction; names, characters, businesses, events, localities, and occurrences are all extrapolated from the author's writings and imagination or utilized in a fictitious manner. As such, any direct or indirect references to actual entities, dead or alive, or events do not, in any shape or form, resemble the opinions of the author.
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"..." = Dialogue
'...' = Internal monologues
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It was a blistering summer day.
The colossal expanse of the sun envelops the acreage with its scorching rays.
The sweltering heat and the moist climate, wrought upon by the complementing humidity, had now invaded every aspect of the landscape: The wooden edifices in town had become intramural furnaces that amplified, not assuaged, the tormenting temperatures; the vast heath to the west of the municipality, with its paucity of shades, was open ground for copious cases of heatstroke; the denizens themselves have either tried–and, in most instances, failed–to retain their daily routine under these strenuous conditions, or sought to find refuge from the heat by plunging into the nearest river or pool of water.
Mosquitoes and other insects, relishing in the damp wetness, have begun a large exodus from their respective habitats nearby the local water reservoirs to the population center in an attempt to accrue as much blood as possible.
In the midst of all that, a young boy sat under the cover of a lonely maple tree. In his solitude, he was lying supinated on the rich meadow grassland.
Pondering the events that had thus transpired in the duration of the day, the boy was lost in thought.
He felt a slight tickle as a bead of sweat fell from his temples.
'I've got nothing else to do today... I've finished all my homework... I don't have my part-time job...' he was thinking.
'Maybe I could purchase a watermelon today. I think Nee-san would appreciate it when she returns from work,' the boy's eyes lit up at the notion.
*Shuffle* *Shuffle*
He heard footsteps overtly making contact with the grass.
In light of this, he chose to lift himself up and stand on his feet.
He could now see three older boys approaching him–they were from his school. Each of them is about a year older than him.
"Oi, Smile, we've got something for you to do," one of them spoke.
"And what's that," he replied.
"None of your concern, come on," the first answered.
"I won't go unless you tell me."
"You little shit, is that how you talk to your seniors?!" a second yelled.
"Now now, no need to get angry, Kenji," the third boy said as he made his way over to 'Smile'.
He places his arm around the boy's shoulder, "Cmon Tomioka, we're only asking a favor as your friends. Whaddya say, huh?"
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