Chereads / Demon Slayer: The Demon Hunter / Chapter 18 - Interlude: Aogashima village

Chapter 18 - Interlude: Aogashima village

Word count: 1326

<—>

Nitta Azumi is a name that resonates throughout Aogashima village, known and cherished by all its residents. Her presence evokes nothing but warm feelings and admiration among the villagers.

At seventy years old, she is the village's oldest resident and the widow of its former leader. The love story she shared with her husband is a beloved tale, well-known to everyone. Despite not being able to have children, their bond remained unbreakable.

Following her husband's peaceful passing, Nitta naturally took on the role of village head. Five years have gone by since then, and while life has been calm, it has also felt a bit monotonous.

That is until a newcomer stirred things up in the village.

On a bright, sunny day with a refreshing breeze—just the kind of weather Nitta enjoys for her walks—she was reminded of her cherished moments with her late husband.

It was during one of these strolls that she spotted him: a young man in his early twenties, dressed in tattered clothes, chasing after a rabbit.

Nitta was taken aback; she had never seen this man before, and she prided herself on knowing every villager.

As he chased the rabbit, he stumbled over a rock and landed right in the mud.

"Fuck!" she heard him exclaim. The sight tugged at her heartstrings, the sight was of a young man struggling to make ends meet.

That's why she decided to approach him.

"Can I offer you some assistance, young man?" she asked kindly, catching his attention.

He looked up at her, confusion flickering in his eyes before they hardened.

"No, I'm fine. Just leave me alone," he replied, getting to his feet and grimacing at his muddy clothes.

"I insist. Good weather and a warm cup of tea go hand and hand,"

He scoffed "Yeah, sure. I don't care about the weather or your shitty tea. Piss off."

Most people in her position would have felt insulted and withdrawn their offer, but Nitta was different.

She noticed the doubt in his eyes; he didn't trust her. She couldn't blame him, though. Her age and experience taught her that those who had endured great pain often felt that way.

"That's alright; everyone is entitled to their opinions. How about we share a quick lunch? I can whip up anything you fancy—I'm quite the cook, you know!"

Being an old, stubborn woman, she was determined to help this young man.

"Are you deaf? I said I—" he was cut off by a loud growl from his stomach, his face turning red with embarrassment.

"If you don't mind, of course," she added with a smile.

The young man pressed his lips together, his eyes showing his inner struggle about whether to accept her invitation.

Another growl from his stomach made up his mind.

"Can I have some Udon?"

<—>

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Nitta settled into a chair on her porch, savoring a warm cup of tea. After a long day spent mediating disputes, this moment of tranquility felt like a breath of fresh air.

That peace was soon interrupted when she spotted someone approaching, and recognition washed over her.

"Fujino-dono! To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" She said with a smile.

It had only been a few days since she brought him home, bringing food and clothes, and even offering to stay the night. He had simply thanked her for her kindness before leaving, so she had been curious if he would return. His appearance today filled her with happiness, even if he had come seeking assistance.

"Granny, I got some questions I need to ask."

"Of course, please come in."

She led him to her living room, where they both settled onto the tatami mats as she poured him a cup of tea.

"So what would you like to ask from this old woman?"

While she had a hunch about his question, she was unprepared for what he actually asked.

"Demons. Tell me everything you know about them."

In an instant, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The cozy, serene setting transformed into one filled with tension.

In hindsight, it was a straightforward question that would typically elicit a simple response. After all, most people dismissed demons as mere myths.

That wasn't the case for Nitta.

The question brought back memories she had locked away, known only to her late husband.

Once, during her childhood, she had been playing in the nearby forest, captivated by the beauty of nature and watching the tiny insects around her.

As night fell and the trees obscured the moonlight, she began her trip home. That was when she stumbled upon something unexpected.

On the ground lay a hunched figure, the sound of crunching and chewing breaking the stillness of the night.

Nitta, ever curious since she was a child, felt compelled to investigate. She approached cautiously, and what she discovered would haunt her for years to come.

In a puddle on the ground was a human body—a woman, to be precise. The look of terror frozen on her face would remain etched in Nitta's memory.

The figure paused its gnawing and turned to face the terrified Nitta. Though the features were unclear, she knew she would never forget them.

With a pale complexion, blonde hair stained with a drop of red, rainbow-colored eyes, and a gentle smile smeared with blood, the sight was chilling.

Nitta turned and fled, screaming and sobbing as she raced home. She vowed never to return to that forest again.

"Oi, granny, you okay?" Fujino's voice pulled her from her reverie.

"I-I'm fine, I apologize if I worried you." She attempted to mask the trauma of the memory, but Fujino noticed.

"Where was I? Ah yes… demon are creatures of legend. Malevolent, heartless beings that hunts humans and feasts on them under the cover of the night. Not much is known about them and I'm afraid that's as far as the legend goes,"

Fujino then gazed at her, his eyes clouded with contemplation. She sensed he had a reason for asking that particular question and hoped her suspicions were unfounded.

This troubled yet kind man didn't deserve to suffer.

"Why did you help me?" he asked, his gaze intense.

"You had nothing in. You didn't know me and I didn't know you. I was just some random strnager that could've hurted you if I wished. So why? Why did you help me?"

Nitta stared back, She anticipated that question and had the answer for it.

"Because it's the right thing to do,"

Fujino gazed at her, his mouth forming a surprised "o." Then, to her surprise, a smile broke across his face instead of the usual sneer.

"Thank you"

<—>

After their initial meeting, Fujino began to visit the village regularly. interacting with the locals and even lending a hand on occasions.

Although he hadn't fully opened up to anyone due to his lingering mistrust, he made an effort to be polite.

The only person he felt somewhat comfortable with was Nitta, which made his request to her quite unexpected.

"You want a loan?" she exclaimed, taken aback. Since their last conversation, he hadn't asked her for anything, only stopping by to spend a little time together.

"Yeah. I want to open an Udon cart. I have some money, but the seller is asking for 2000 yen over my budget, so I was hoping you could help me." He asked.

"Absolutely, I'd be delighted to lend you the money. You've come so far, Fujino-dono, and I'm really proud of you. You've truly touched this old woman's heart," she replied with a warm smile, which made him blush a little.

In the end, she lent him the money, allowing him to open his cart. Thanks to his otherworldly delicious food he served, it drew attention and visitors from neighboring villages, playing a significant role in the village's development.

A little kindness towards a stranger can go a long way.

<—>

Decided to do some world building so I thought that there was no better place to start than the village where Fujino lives next to it.

These Interlude chapters will be written from different characters' perspectives to give more insight into their thoughts and actions.

There is also a Jojo reference in the last chapter that (I presume) no one has found so far so, have fun searching for it.

Spoiler alert: The next arc would involve spiders.