Beauty of Her Spring [KNY Reader Insert]

Prologue: Induction

When they found you, you were told it was nothing short of a miracle.

You, a babe, found alone in the middle of a forest miles away from your presumed home.

You had slashes across your body, had you not been found would have been a death sentence.

Your mother was discovered somewhere nearby or whatever was left of her—mostly bones and rotted flesh at that point, her clothes torn and tossed askew.

Little parts of your father were located—broken katana and fragments of his bones showing up at your home a week after you were saved. They were scattered about the entrance, splatters of dry, crusted blood on them—left behind to mock whoever came about your home.

But you lived. Your body was slightly harmed, but you were alive.

You were told that had it not been the sashes of wisteria folded inside your blanket along with you; there would have been nothing of you left, just like your mother and father.

How funny that was your saving grace. Tiny purple flowers.

"We welcome you into our fold."

A grove of wisteria surrounded your hometown. Demon attacks were zero to none. In the town's history, no one had died at the hands of a demon.

Your family was the first outlier.

You wondered if that was some destiny of yours.

To be found by a Hashira that smelled of sweet flowers, some kilometers away from a town with flowers.

For that Hashira to teach you a sword art that could slay demons based on something dainty and small as flower petals.

"...Flower Hashira, Fujihara [Name]."

This felt predestined yet felt so shallow to fulfill.