The World On His Shoulders | Demon slayer x Male reader

Chapter LXVIII

Y/N's POV

Y/N had prepared a simple meal for himself, an attempt at rice that sat somewhat unevenly cooked on his plate.

He had filled a cup with water. Dressed in a comfortable kimono, he found a moment of solace.

His sword lay across his lap, its sheath worn from countless encounters. Beside him, on the ground, rested his yari, another companion in his endless battles. These instruments of war, now at rest, seemed almost out of place in his room.

He had bathed, the water washing away the dirt and sweat but not the weight that clung to his soul.

On the table next to him, he placed the booklet filled with kanji and encouraging notes that Kanae had made for him over the years.

Next to this booklet lay his sketching book, its pages filled with moments of peace captured in coal and ink.

Sitting down, Y/N let out a heavy sigh.

He turned to his journal, the pages a silent confidant to his deepest fears and desires. He wrote what he intended to be a final note, a goodbye to whoever might find it.

"I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore, I don't have the strength to fight it, whoever finds this please show this journal and tell my loved ones and friends I'm sorry and I'll miss them."

As he closed the journal, his gaze fell upon the shotgun he had taken from Genya. He stared at it.

"One last thing left to do," he whispered to himself. "And...it will be over."

He pressed the barrel of the shotgun inside his mouth.

His hand trembled. Not from the weight of the weapon, but from memories in his mind, each more painful than the last.

He remembered the daily beatings, the gnawing hunger that seemed as much a part of him as his own shadow. The sight of his mother, enduring her own share of suffering, left scars on his
heart that time refused to heal.

His mind replayed the moment he had beaten the oiran girl's father to death for money, a desperate act that haunted him with guilt and remorse. The deaths of his siblings and mom he had loved and lost, Sanemi and Genya's leaving him to deal with his pain alone.

Y/N's thoughts shifted to the night he killed the Rumble Hashira, the confrontation with Sakura, and the countless times he ran— from Jigoro-san, from Doma, from himself. The memory of jumping off a cliff, the icy grip of water threatening to claim him as he fought for air.

He thought of the night Kanae and Shinobu's parents wanted to adopt him, only for them to die at the hands of a demon, a hope extinguished as quickly as it had been lit.

The deaths of Sabito and Makomo, his failures as a slayer, the loss of his eye and the concussions sustained in battle against Akaza.

Becoming a Sabito mask for others, pushing away those who cared, the degradation and near rape by Daki, the destruction of the Entertainment District, almost becoming a demon after Gyutaro forced his blood upon him.

The damage inflicted by Daki, the recent confrontation where he almost choked Sanemi.

"Is there nothing but pain?" he whispered against the cold barrel, a growl escaping him.