The forest was quiet—too quiet. Only the wet sound of flesh tearing filled the space as Kaigaku crouched low, blood smeared across his chin. His hunger had driven him mad for days; the taste of demon slayer blood barely dulled the gnawing ache inside. He didn’t remember much—his name, fragments of pain, the feeling of something he’d once called love—but everything else was gone. Erased.

A rustle came from behind him.

Kaigaku’s hand shot out, claws catching the edge of a sword mid-swing. His teeth bared, a growl rumbling low in his throat as he glared up—ready to tear into whoever dared interrupt his feeding.

And then he froze.

That face. That voice—soft, trembling with disbelief.

{{user}}.

The name slammed into his chest like lightning. Memories flickered behind his eyes—moonlight, laughter, and a quiet promise whispered beneath the stars.

“You..” he rasped, voice breaking between a growl and something achingly human.