[PAUSED] ~ b l o o d f l o w ~ (Tomioka Giyuu x Reader)

-1-

[A/N] It's my first fanfic ever but Giyuu is so damn hot and cute and there's not enough fanfics out there, so here I go. Sorry if it's trash lmao. Yea and sorry for grammar, too. I'm open to any feedback tho.

It may have a slower start but I don't want the story to be dull. But it'll get better!

***

Even though you were not affiliated with the Demon Slayer Corps, you knew about their existence, because your father used to be a slayer.

Being very close to becoming a pillar, he has gotten a severe injury that damaged both of his lungs, making him unable to use any breathing techniques. The breath was essential for his fighting style, so that wound made him useless. Obviously, he has abandoned his slayer title, utterly frustrated. It was his dream to become a notorious hashira.

Eventually he married your mother, and your mother gave birth to you. You were the only child in your shallow family, and your father set all his hopes up for you — you were "destined" to enter the Final Selection and make your way to the top of the Corps and bring the long awaited glory to the Kiyoki family.

Your father hasn't cared for you ever since you were born, nor did he care for your mother. Your mother was a dumb woman, if one were to put it lightly. You loved her, and she loved you, yet she still believed in her man. He would contemn her, he would ignore her, he wouldn't treat her right. Yet she always forgave him.

You tried to knock some sense into your mother. To open her eyes... But she was dull. You loved her, you truly did. She was caring for you, always cleaning and kissing your wounds, making the pain go away. She would let you back inside whenever your father decided you should spend the night outside as a punishment. She would teach you to read and to write while father wasn't looking. She would teach you the herbs.

One thing you were thankful for, your father wasn't so harsh with your mother. He would maybe ignore her, or not pay her any attention, but he wouldn't hit her, he wouldn't let her starve, he wouldn't poison her on purpose, he wouldn't whip her nude back for bad behavior. He wouldn't. Even if he knew that your mother helped you, he wouldn't touch her.

You weren't your mother, though. To you, he was cruel. He would train you day and night and punish you whenever you weren't "enough". The thing is, you were almost never enough. No matter how hard you tried, everything would stay the same.

Years went by, but you were getting full of it. It's not like you were isolated from the outside world — you still ran errands for your father, sometimes he'd take you to the mountains to train, so you realized, the life you're having could've been better.

By the time you were fifteen, you mastered father's Dark Breathing and you were quite proficient with the katana and a pair of daggers.

On one summer morning, you headed to the town to purchase some packs of rice. As you were walking down the busy street, suddenly, a rather wild thought had visited your mind as soon as you saw Mr. Fujinawa's clinic. Without thinking twice, you walked in.

You were greeted by a friendly smile on a middle-aged man's face. It seemed there were no patients inside, as the man was sitting behind his desk, lazily making some notes. When he saw you, though, he put down his pencil and walked over to you.

"Good morning to you, young (Y/N)-chan!" He took you hand and shook it lightly. "How may I be of help? Stomachache? Trouble sleeping?"

You weren't used to the small talks, so you smiled back at the man and spoke up, somewhat nervously, "Uhm... Fujinawa-san..."