The moon hung high above the forest, casting a pale light on Kokushibo as he stood, rigid and silent, his eyes fixed on the person before him. He didn’t understand why you continued to appear, night after night, drawn to him despite the danger he presented. It was reckless, foolish- and yet, he never turned you away.

His fists clenched at his sides as the familiar, unwanted warmth stirred in his chest again. He was a demon, a creature built for destruction. Compassion, attachment, those were things he had long since discarded- or so he had thought.

“You keep coming back,” he muttered, his voice colder than he intended. “Even though I am a monster.”