Chapter Text
"Your wounds.. will heal" Kokushibo assured, a hand landing on Kaigaku's cheek, giving a small pat of affirmation, the boy leaning into the touch, before the hand quickly retreats.
Kaigaku just stood there, still as a statue,
'No- That's not what I meant'
He wished to say, but it seemed as if his words were caught at the back of his ever tightening throat.
Wait- what? Had his windpipe truly been convulsing for this entire time? How long had it been? A couple minutes? An hour? He didn't know.
"Is... There something.. wrong?" He spoke slowly, noticing the boy's widened eyes, his mouth slightly agape in disbelief, his hand clenching around his neck.
"I-" He coughed, his voice raw, his throat dry, the words came out like a cracked surface, rough and unforgiving as his palm slowly seeped liquid- sweat, shaking steadily.
Don't
He warned himself, the word sounding more like a threat, harsh in his mind.
He needed to find something to say, some word, a coherent sentence to describe his sorrow, to tell his mentor why he hadn't been performing at his utmost best during training, that's how this whole thing started.
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His head hung low, eyes empty as Kokushibo continued to brutally scold him, just minutes prior, he had been launching attacks at his mentor, forced to focus on one thing only; The attacks, nothing else.
Yet his mind wandered astray, fixating on one particular thing.
His past.
His hands shook, his blood ran cold, he froze, the clatter of metal as his sword dropped to the ground, this world had been so unforgiving to the misfortunate boy, his mother was an alcoholic- she switched between partners frequently, Kaigaku would often be abused in one way or another by his mother and her selfish, greedy, despicable partners.
And now, on this day, it had come back to bite him in the ass.
He couldn't remember those days exactly, the lucid vision of the outline of a woman- he referred to as 'mother', beer bottle in hand.
That's what Kokushibo had always told him, once a human turns to a demon, there's a very little chance they will ever recover the memories of their past lives, which is best in some cases as Kaigaku's, the only problem being one small, what would seem insignificant to most, detail.
They say that demons may not remember their past life, but they remember all of their emotions, those strong feelings Kaigaku couldn't put into words, all the pain, suffering, greed of the world he could remember.
The sound of blood puddling as a large blade collided with his cheek, tearing his face straight in half, in which quickly regrew.
Kaigaku had lost consciousness for a split second, eyes rolling back at the thrumming pain in the areas which had been battered.
When he awoke once more, he could see the gruesome sight before him, his mentor, standing tall, looming over him, casting a shadow out, just as the men who had once lay their filthy hands on him had, the thick scent of metal on his tongue.
It was all too much.
His breathing vigorous as he arose quickly, face not daring to meet with his elder's, why was he panicking, he didn't even know himself, that image just seemed far too familiar to him, and he couldn't take it, honestly.
He heart beat painfully hard against his bashed ribs which quickly obtained their former position, sturdy, holding his chest up high, his head throbbed, he doubted it was from the unclean cut made by the Uppermoon's blade, everything ached, his thigh twitching, the muscles seemingly Spasming and cramping, he bit his lower lip, drawing blood, the pain of this all was too much, he dug his nails deep into the almost silk white skin of his arms, clenching his teeth as to not scream out in pure never ending agony and torment.
"Focus." Kokushibo scolded, his tone harsher than usual as he brought a clawed hand to the former slayer's head, patting roughly as some form of punishment?
Kaigaku flinched and jolted backwards, hissing under his breathe as to not bark back at the man, a reaction which made Kokushibo's many eyes widen ever so slightly.
"Kaigaku." His tone was now soft, softer than usual, his calloused palm tracing down to Kaigaku's cheek as tears welled in his hollow appearing eyes, his face flushing a deep pink, sniffling, fighting the urge to lean into the man's touch.
"It hurts" was all the boy could croak out, his voice quiet and soft, unlike his usually fierce and fiery attitude.
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The grip on his throat tightened, to the point he could've sworn he'd had crushed his windpipe, even if he did, it hadn't mattered.
"Stop that." The words sounded harsh, but Kaigaku could tell there was a small tinge of worry in his teacher's voice as the pressure consuming his throat had released, leaving a bright purple mark where it had been resting before, his small hand cupped in the slight warmth of the other man's larger hands.
"Boy.. Look at me.."
'No!' His mind screaming at him, telling him to tug, to struggle out of his grasp, he couldn't bare to look at the man with such a pathetic expression plastered on his face, but even so, escape was impossible, the man held the boy firmly, not loosening his grip once, Kaigaku would have to rip his own hands off for that to happen, and even so, there's not guarantee of escape, no guarantee Kokushibo wouldn't just restrain him once again.
He could only prolong the inevitable in the end, "no" he spoke out, the word meaning to sound harsh and provokative, but it landed to be wimpy and pitiful.
A rough hand crept under the former stray's chin, forcibly tilting it upwards, oh, what a horrible state he was in, Kokushibo couldn't help but feel the smallest bit of remorse for his little apprentice, he wasn't an emotionless monster as Douma was, he could still feel basic human empathy.
"Stop that, stop" the boy whimpered, his breathing shaky and uneven, gasping as if he had just ran a marathon, pushing heavy breathes out of his tight chest.
"I can't... help you if you won't... let.. me.." Kokushibo grunted, stroking his clawed thumb over top of Kaigaku's soft, raw flesh, somewhat affectionately.
"I promise... I won't.. tease you." He whispered, his voice reassuring and caring, it made Kaigaku's blood pump a little harder, his cheeks heating from a different feeling now, a minimal amount of warmth pooling deep inside of him gut.
"When I was-..." he bit his lip, hesitating, perhaps he was trying to find the right combination of words to describe the horrific abuse he had been put through as a child, who'm had been barely born into the horrific world before the pain started.
"Young. My mother- she hated m-me- she would beat me- so would her... partn-ners, they would do it t-to" the words fell out frantically, stuttering, though he had never intended to stumble over the words.
That was all he could form before tears began to slip from his wet eyes, by now, Kokushibo's grip had loosened ever so slightly, allowing his hands, slick with sweat to slip free and come up to cup his own face.
It was a truly horrendous sight for Kokushibo, he hadn't seen this in decades, hadn't felt this in decades, one of his- no, his only loved one, his beloved Kaigaku breaking down infront of him.
His six eyes all twitched in sync, he stretched out his arms and pulled the boy towards him, loving caressing a hand through his now knotted and sticky hair, kissing atop his head.
"Hush.. it's alright.." he whispered, pressing the boy impossibly close to his body, Kaigaku inadmissibly pressing himself closer to the demon who'm he loved the most, the only one who cared for him, he melted into his touch.
"That's.. enough training... for today,, come... you may sleep with me, just for today..." Kaigaku, who was still sobbing into his chest admired the man for such generosity, startling himself when he was swept off his feet and carried to Kokushibo's room.