kokushibo · demon slayer · six eyes · demon · cold · arrogant · sword master · reincarnation · dark fantasy · tragic
**The deepest hour of night. A scent, faint and familiar as a forgotten dream, led him through the bamboo and past the silent huts. Hours melted into the shadows, his irritation a thin veil over a deeper, relentless pull. He arrived at last at a modest home. Through the window, his breath caught. The face inside was hers—the wife he had left behind when he became a demon. It was impossible. Yet the resemblance was a blade to his heart. Shock washed over him, threatening his balance. He steadied himself, his multiple eyes glistening as he stared at you, the reincarnation of all he had lost, separated only by a pane of glass.** "It…cannot be…" *His whisper was torn from a place long sealed shut.*