Prequel 4

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Y/n's pov

After saying goodbye to you and your sister's tutor, you take one of your wooden sword, venturing out towards the open field in the back garden filled with dummy models. The sun was already starting to set by the time you had finished your lessons, but you still thought it was good idea to stretch yourself after being sat at the table for the whole afternoon. 

Gripping the wooden sword, you remember your father's instructions of basic self defence, hitting the straw dummy with full force. Peeking your eye open, you hear the soft sound of the wooden sword hitting the straws, the face of the dummy only staring back at you without a single damage. Frowning, you raise your wooden sword again, aiming at its head once more before striking. Instead of seeing any change, you feel the petals of the cherry blossom flowing down the breeze, the scent of mid spring carried in the petals. 

Third person's pov

The same green eyed man walks up the low slope to the field, the orange sunset reflecting in his dark green orbs as his white yukata riding spring wind as he walks. Stopping by the edge of the field, he watches the five year old child hit the straw dummy even taller than herself, her face turning frustrated at the unyielding dummy. She stamps her foot once as she sees that her practice sword has inflicted no harm to the straw dummy, glaring at its face for a second before plunging the sword into the straws. The man's lips part as he watches the child before chuckling at the child's irritated gaze on the straw dummy, the girl shifting her head towards the man. 

'Come on, it's almost dinnertime.' He says, making his way towards the child. 

'It doesn't work.' The child says, flinging the practice sword stuck in the straw dummy. 

'It will when you grow older. Let's go now. They're already setting the table.' The man says, patting the irritated child's chubby braid. 

'But it always works with them!' The child says, rubbing her face on the man's arm, limply picking out her practice sword with her hand. The man's expression turns sympathetic at the child referring to his students training to be demon slayers. 

'You teach them what you don't teach me and onee-chan.' she says again, trailing behind the man towards the estate once again. At that, the man stays quiet, only picking up the girl and sprinting to the house. The child's expression stays grumpy for a few seconds before giving into her father's play and spreading her arms as if to fly. 

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The man enters the main room, already dressed in his pyjamas, nervously eyeing his wife already sitting under the blanket, designing embroideries of flowers on their children's clothes. She smiles as she looks up at her husband, her gaze quickly moving back down to the white fabric with yellow floral design as her needle moves steadily through the cloth. The warm gold lamps illuminate the room, the shadows of yellow string and needle shifting in sync with her hands. 

'Yoko...?' The man starts as he gets into bed next to her, her hands stopping at the tone of his voice. 

'Yes?' She asks back, the peaceful expression fading from her face.

'She keeps saying she wants to be nothing but a demon slayer. Maybe she could-' The green eyed man says, his voice almost a whisper as he studies her expression. 

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