So I'm a Narcissist, So What?

Under the pale light of the moon, Giyu Tomioka stood still, his blade poised with lethal intent. His lapis-blue eyes, sharp and empty like a frozen lake, locked onto the trembling demon before him. The creature cowered, its trembling hands clutching at the corpse of a woman, her lifeless form sprawled beneath its claws.

"You want me to spare you?" Giyu asked, his voice calm yet unwavering. His choppy raven-black hair, tied in a low ponytail, fluttered slightly in the faint breeze. The carmine and patterned haori draped over his shoulders shifted as he tilted his head, waiting for the demon's reply.

"I promise! I won't do it anymore!" the demon stammered, falling to its knees, hands clasped in a pitiful gesture of submission. "To me… and to you… it's meaningless, isn't it? But I swear! I won't eat people anymore!"

Giyu's gaze remained unchanging, his expression a mask of stoicism. He offered no reassurance, no sign of mercy, only the quiet weight of his presence pressing down on the creature.

The demon's voice cracked into a guttural snarl as its desperation consumed it. "I won't eat people any—" The words twisted into a feral roar as it lunged, claws outstretched and teeth bared. The attack was wild and reckless.

Giyu reacted without hesitation. His sword flashed in a single, fluid arc, the strike as clean and deliberate as a falling raindrop. The demon's head severed cleanly mid-leap, its body crumbling to ash before it hit the ground.

Standing over the dissipating remains, Giyu sheathed his blade in a swift, practiced motion. He glanced down briefly at the fading traces of the demon's existence, his face devoid of emotion. Without a word, he turned and began walking away.

The sharp sound of wings broke the silence. A raven darted through the shadows, its cries urgent as it weaved through beams of weak moonlight. It circled once before swooping low, landing on Giyu's outstretched arm with a thud.

"Kaww! Kaww! Message! Message!" it croaked, its black eyes gleaming.

Giyu stopped, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. The raven's talons gripped tightly as it delivered its message.

"Go to the snowy mountains in the north!"

Giyu's expression hardened ever so slightly, a faint flicker of understanding crossing his face. The raven's voice grew sharper, its urgency palpable. "Demons have eaten… several hunters there! Go now, Demon Slayer Swordsman!"

The northern mountains—remote, dangerous, and unforgiving—loomed large in his mind.

"Kaww! Akkimessatsu! Akkimessatsu!" the raven chanted, louder and more insistent, as though urging him onward.

With a resolute nod, Giyu adjusted the sword at his side. The raven let out one final cry before taking to the air, its shadow flickering across the ground as it disappeared into the night.

As Giyu stepped outside, the cold wind struck him, carrying the faint scent of snow. His sharp lapis-blue eyes fixed on the distant mountains, their peaks bathed in an ethereal glow under the moonlight.

He tightened his grip on his weapon and began walking, the hem of his haori fluttering in the icy breeze.

...

The northern town was blanketed in snow, its narrow streets lined with wooden buildings that creaked under the weight of snow. Inside a small shop marked by a sign reading "Pharmacist," a woman stood behind the counter, her face lined with concern. A customer leaned casually against the counter, examining the interior with an air of calm curiosity.

"A man-eating bear?" the customer asked, her tone measured but inquisitive.

"Yes," the shopkeeper replied, nodding solemnly. "That's why everyone here is so tense." She glanced out the window, her hands moving absently to straighten her apron. "It even attacked the Matagi hunters—our finest." Her voice dropped slightly. "In these parts, we call them anamo-tazu."

The customer tilted her head slightly, processing the information. Her gaze flickered briefly to the shelves stocked with medicine and supplies. "Ah," she said finally. "That explains why the atmosphere here feels so… on edge."

The shopkeeper sighed. "Yes, so you shouldn't stay here," she said firmly. Her tone carried a mixture of concern and insistence, as though she were speaking to someone she knew wouldn't listen.

The customer smiled faintly, dismissing the warning with a quiet shrug. She picked up a packet of medicine from the counter, turning it over in her hands. Her features were delicate, almost doll-like, with large eyes that lacked pupils—only a haze of gradient purple, reminiscent of an insect's eyes. Her rose pink lips curved into a faint, thoughtful expression. Raven-black wavy hair that faded into a dark purple hue at the ends framed her pale face, styled into a flat yakai-maki bun at the back of her head, secured with a butterfly ornament of white, turquoise, and light purple. Two chin-length locks fell just in front of her ears, adding an ethereal quality to her petite frame.

"Well, I've got time on my hands," she said after a pause, her voice soft yet resolute. "And I rarely trust others to buy my supplies for me."

The shopkeeper frowned but said nothing. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the counter as she watched the customer slip the packet into her pouch with practiced ease.

"It's intriguing," the customer said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice remained calm, but there was an underlying curiosity to her words. "The liver of a man-eating bear… it's the sort of thing that interests someone in my line of work."

The shopkeeper stared at her, her mouth opening slightly in disbelief. Before she could respond, a voice came from outside the shop, loud enough to be heard through the thin wooden walls.

"You went into the mountains alone again?"

The voices outside grew louder, drawing the customer's attention. Setting the medicine packet into her pouch, Shinobu adjusted her butterfly hair ornament and made her way toward the shop's door. The cold air greeted her as she stepped outside, her calm gaze surveying the scene.

A group of villagers had gathered near the edge of the snow-covered street. At the center stood a young girl with piercing eyes and a hunting rifle slung over her shoulder. Beside her was a loyal dog, its fur dusted with snow. Despite her petite frame, the girl's defiance was evident as she squared off against an older man, his face etched with concern.

"You went into the mountains alone again?" the man said sharply, his voice tinged with both anger and worry.

"Not alone!" the girl shot back. "Taro was with me!"

"Taro's just a dog!" the man countered, frustration brimming in his tone. "Let us adults avenge Matazo!"

"I'm also with her." A cheerful voice chimed in as a young man stepped forward, playfully waving his hand. His grin was wide and disarming, but the tension in the group didn't waver. He was promptly ignored by everyone, save for Shinobu, whose sharp gaze flicked toward him with growing interest.

The girl—Yae—set her jaw, her eyes flashing with pain and determination. "The bear killed my father and the other Matagi right in front of me," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "I'm not just going to sit by and do nothing."

"She's Matazo's daughter," the shopkeeper beside Shinobu murmured, her words carrying softly through the cold air.

Shinobu, now leaning lightly against the shop's doorway, observed the interaction with quiet curiosity. Her hazy purple eyes, insect-like and unreadable, settled on Yae. "Do you know her?" she asked the shopkeeper, who had followed her outside.

The shopkeeper nodded, her voice low. "Other than her occasional supply runs into town, she's been staying in the mountains… hoping to avenge her father. It pains me to see it."

"And the cute boy beside her?" Shinobu inquired, tilting her head slightly toward the cheerful young man.

"I don't know. It's my first time seeing him," the shopkeeper replied, glancing at him with a faint frown. Shinobu nodded thoughtfully, her eyes returning to the scene.

The discussion outside continued as the man gestured toward the dog at Yae's side. "This isn't just about revenge. The whole town's in danger if that bear isn't stopped! You can't—"

"I'm not asking for your permission," Yae interrupted, her voice cold as the surrounding snow.

Shinobu's attention lingered on Yae for a moment, sympathy flickering in her gaze. She already suspected the truth—that the so-called man-eating bear wasn't a bear at all but a demon. And if her hunch was correct, it was likely Yae's father.

But what truly intrigued her was the boy standing beside Yae, casually teasing the small dog, Taro, as if the commotion around him were of no concern. His open, easygoing demeanor seemed entirely out of place in the tense scene.

Shinobu's sharp instincts had already noted the subtle anomaly surrounding him—his almost imperceptible presence, like a ghost in the midst of a crowd. If not for his strikingly good looks and playful grin, she might have overlooked him entirely. Such an unusual phenomenon was anything but ordinary, and it piqued her interest.

As the argument among the villagers raged on, Shinobu's eyes narrowed slightly. Her suspicions about the boy deepened, but she remained silent, content to observe for now.