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helloescapist · 4 months

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Hi! I have a question with your 'within reach' fic. If you we're going to write a sequel to it anytime soon... Will the sibling remember who they are? And I assume they got amnesia or the demon attack was so traumatic, they just sort of forgot. So does that mean if they will ever remember, they will also recall the traumatizing experience. I think Shinobu will not like that and will probably will just keep a close eye on them but not tell hem they're related. But if they do remember, how will it affect Shinobu? Will she still go with her infinity castle plan? Sorry for many questions. I'm just intrigued with the premise.

Hi anon!

The Within Reach was such a wonderful ask, wasn't it? So grateful to the original Requester! When I write, I typically write a profile so to speak, but I also like to leave as many details to interpretation as I can. I love readers being able to just escape from reality, if only for a little bit, and even carry it with them as they go through the mundane aspects of life-- like continuing the story line while they do the dishes or something. To hear I left you with so many questions makes my heart so happy, and that you want to hear more. 🥰

Within Reach, Fleeting| Shinobu Kocho

Word Count: 4337

Setting: Shinobu Kocho x gn!reader (sibling fic!/reader is a lost Kocho Sibling/Sound Hashira’s tsuguko).

Content Warning(s): spoilers pertaining to the Infinity Castle Arc and Shinobu’s background. Mentions of blood/gore, loss, death, hurt, eventual comfort.

Summary: death follows battle, shattered amongst the inner sanctum of the Infinity Castle. Corpses discarded to the death, the faint scent of lotus flowers that give way to the chill of the air, the fleeting scent of wisteria out of reach. Slipped through your fingers as your conscious begins to fade. The weight of forgotten memories brought to life, anchored to your soul, dragging you beneath the depths, and threatening to drown you in the past.

A/N: the reader of this series utilizes the breath of Hogaku (folksong). The concept is continued in the sequel, and it felt fitting to utilize the well known children's song Chouchou for this pieces. For more information on this children's song, and it's translation, visit here. Read Within Reach.

Iron seared your nostrils, rattled your bones and racked upon the curve of your spine. Suffocated your throat, choked upon sobs that threatened to spill from your soul. Marred flesh. Scoured its rage, flayed the mid-section of your neck, rattled the throat bones and threatened their structure. The knot of your free hand pressed into the fine lines, the flesh of your knuckles whitening as the sweat creased your brows. Each breath strangled and mangled sickening clots that formed in the middle section of your throat. Gagged and strained, the rattle of your shoulder bones as they met your ribs, the tremble of your blade numbly clutched between creased fingers stiff as the grave that threatened to claim you. The quiver of your knees beneath a tattered uniform. Liesons littered across the black motif, the reminiscence of the slayer motif. Shards of ice snagged upon the unraveled fabric. Luminescent in the unfamiliar light flickered in hues of crimson and mulled wine purples of bruising flesh. Shallow breathing rumbled in your torso, eliciting a sickening crunch of bones that danced amongst the inner sancta. The delicate floral scent that met the splatter of your blood across the Japanese cypress; its once proud symbolism tarnished as the blood that stained its grain. Crumbled beneath the weight of your knee as it folded despite the will that clung to your features. The tremble of your dagger clattered amongst the floor as your nails began to cling to your neck. The sickening scent of floral carried upon the blades of ice that poisoned the air, littered the ponds and marred the petals of lotus. Discarded bones that hummed of century horrors, disciples discarded and mangled. Mere corpses left for display and satisfaction. Lavish pillows delighted of a monster danced upon false deliverance. Blood that claimed the waters and disbursed amongst the disruption of the stillness of the haunting chill that crept upon the pillars. Snuck across the desolation, trembled over ice and blood. Maneuvered across intricate pillars and mocked upon the stained holiness of a depraved deity shattered to the winds. Taunted the hire being that savored disparity and offered synthetic deliverance. Pillaged forgotten corpses in favor of tracing along the outline of your petite figure threatened to collapse. The husk of winter that quivered along your spine, settled at your shoulders, and curled its deafening fingers along the contours of your neck. The ghost of its touch landing upon the lining of your jaw. The scourge of your throat, mangled and spattering blood between clenched teeth as your eyes fought to trace upon the shattered porcelain skin, trembled at the blood that danced upon the butterfly pin. The edge of the tsuguko’s hair mangled and dripped upon sweat, and the clip of blood-stained irises that drowned amongst the wave of purple robbed of innocence, of home, and abandoned amongst the pillage of Doma’s domain. Chouchou chouchou. The ache of your heart as her hand reached for your own, your body unwilling. Despondent, and refusing your whims. The shake of her eyes, the tears that traced along the scratches across her cheeks, the strain of her lips that threatened remorse choked upon blood as your paled form met the cypress and plunged into darkness.

Drowned amongst the depths of a void that called upon your features. Robbed of light, numb as the night. Echoed of shadows, of robbed childhood memories. The touch of your mother’s face once bright and delighted as the smile that met the smallest of achievements of your child, overlapped amongst the blood rattled upon her bones. Her plum eyes, horrified and clutched to your form, a haunting memory forced from your conscious summoned by the sickening crunch of the Insect Pillar’s spine beneath the clutch of the Second Moon’s desires. The rattle of his smile savoring the ache of your features as your subconscious had clutched upon your consciousness. Recollections of warmth, a home decorated in laughter and touched upon the love of parents. Fiercely protected by a mother and father until their bitter end. The smug delight of Doma’s purr warmed by the familiar physical resemblances between Lady Kocho, and yourself. The horror that marked upon her face, the fear reflected in her plum eyes as the caught upon your own, the form of her sorrow touched upon her lips, “Run.” Na no ha ni tomare. The laughter of matcha tea in the early mornings, and the sputter of recent rumors amongst the grocer, your father’s chuckles delighted by the antics of your mother’s return from her shopping. The small hum of a smile that touched upon your eldest sister’s lips warm and affectionate as Shinobu’s plum eyes met the height of her brow, having been drained from assisting the matriarch upon her daily trip to the grocer. Mumbled of idle chatter, insistent disruption, and greeted all those she could, as annoyed at the small hands that met the ends of her kimono. Your fingers tugging excitedly upon the frays of her inner linings to her dismay as you chortled on and on, shaking the meticulously placed strands from her bun over the insistence if she had snagged you a dumpling from the food stall. How quickly she snapped in those days, agitated and worn out, and threatened to swing upon you. The tears that formed upon your face as the youngest, seeking refuge from your elder sister, and how easily she would offer consoling, and the gentlest of scoldings. The puff of Shinobu’s cheeks indignant to your prodding, and the ruffle of Kanae’s long graceful fingers through the depths of your brow, coiled through raven hair that met fuchsia strands. Lighthearted recollections, of childhood laughter, and familiar songs burned upon the overlap of your mother’s plum eyes void of life, the shatter of blood that met the highs of her cheeks. The clamor of her skin beneath your small pudgy fingers that touched upon the met of Shinobu’s features claimed as your mother. The depths of wisteria that stained your flesh, left your eyes heavy and burdened with tears.

Your heart called upon the souls of the lost, alone, and lost in this hopeless land. Free of physical anguish, the flecks of iron that left your features as the chill a distant memory of life. Of battles and daggers, practically nonexistent amongst the folds of the depths, the tremble of your lips as your small hands met your large eyes. Caught upon tears, the loss of blood now replaced by choking amongst your sorrows. Ravaged by the loss, the break of your voice returned in the dark free of the vengeful would, a slash that threatened to wretch your trachea forms your being, falling just short of your larynx. Possessed upon the target of your throat, far too quick to have caught on to the methods of your breathing technique dissipated to the void. Na no ha ni aitara. Realized in the clutch of your gritted teeth and the tears that rolled from your cheeks, the dry rasp of a sob, “A-ane.”

“Aren’t you a little old for this?” The fond exasperation painted upon her tone, tucked a hidden smile as her plum eyes traced your form, the pucker of her cheek. Her gaze jerked away feigning disinterest as your eyes widened at the sight of her. Warm, and welcoming despite the gloom that echoed amongst the environments.

The joy that threatened to touch upon your heart as delicate fingers met soothingly at your scalp. Tender in their regard, working distant familiar etchings through your hair with the faintest of a giggle that echoed upon your heart. The faint touch of sunshine that touched your soul, tender and encouragingly as the words met your ears with harmonious reminiscent. “How you’ve grown,” affectionate captivated in her eyes and threaded through her words. Sakura ni tomare. Large lavender eyes that creased through thick eyelashes, the faint scent of cherry blossoms weaved through luscious long hair, breathtaking in her gentle embrace. Kanae’s love untouched by the grave, warm and tender as the day you had lost her. Unbothered by the indignant snort offered by Shinobu as her tugging lips betrayed her ploy annoyance. “You’ve done so well.”

“Looks like a sniveling brat to me,” Shinobu teased. Her voice, snuggly and familiar. Unlike that fateful day in which you had witnessed the shatter of the Insect Pillar’s mask. The tuck of disinterest and forced softness absolved in the small giggle of her throat as she gently elbowed you. Her antics so distant and yet close as though you had stepped through time.

To a humble home with noisy neighbors, warm bedding, and the scent of tilled garden soil. The years between nonexistent in the closeness of siblings now, and yet despite the security of the moment, it all felt fleeting. Slipped between your fingers as Kanae wiped the tears from your eyes. Whispered kindnesses, and praises, and underlining goodbyes despite your protests. The ache of your breast as she parted her fingers from your touch, your elder sister’s smile soothing regardless of the distance or the pain its presence elicited in your bones. “Death has not come for you today, little one. There is someone who needs you.” Sakura no hana no hana kara Hanae. The steps of her zorii echoed upon the stillness of the darkness, each step threatening to suffocate you before she paused, beckoning Shinobu to her side with the faintest of pride evident.

“Right,” a mumbled fallen into silence. Your tears soothed into place though threatened to rekindle; the plat of a hand slapped into your skull. Harder than intended, the fold of nails that racked your scalp. Attempted pacifying fallen short and awkward. Her gaze caught over her shoulder, affectionate and trembled as a genuine smile touched upon her lips. Lit of her face, and revealed her years, the youth that had been robbed form her and the life she was to live. The weight of responsibilities left in her care, abandoned ached into her features and yet, she felt light. The smile caught upon her lips, curled and warm. Knowing, and secure, accepting death that awaited. Eighteen, and lost to the night and yet, hope that kindled in the heat of her gaze. “Take care of them for me…” The shake of her hand pressed from your brow, caught upon your cheek and smiled, landing upon your shoulder. A stern glimpse before a small laugh danced upon her features. Her hands danced upon a fragment of metal between your fingers. Your eyes dropped, traced upon the butterfly clip clasped between your fingers. Echoed your heart and rang through your bones as her hand pushed you backwards. Forced your form through the dark back into the light, “see you soon.”

Tomareyo asobe.

Light filtered through the window blinds, sheer sheets echoed through the wind and caught upon the breeze that crept through the cracks in the window. Greeted the morning sky the warmth of blue, envied visons of gentle yellows that welcomed the faintest shades of forget-me-nots that touched upon the clouds that pillowed through the morning sky. The rattling of charms amongst the breeze drowned out by the agitated shaking of buzzing, the small frame of a kappa alarm vibrated through the nightstand. Ached against the wood grain breaking the silence of slumber and eliciting the ruffle of bedding. The fold of white sheets touched and rustled as your hand emerged from the sheets tapped into the alarm. Fallen half hazard, lazily and without precision. The slumber is still marked upon your features and unable to make sense of your surroundings. The crack of the bedroom door, rumbled, the doorknob shook in a tight grip at the snarl that met your ears, “Get up!” Hallowed and annoyed. The knot of her temple began to throb, visible by the neatly folded hair that had been meticulously styled into her favorite butterfly clip. Your older sister’s plum eyes tracing your unresponsive form, unbothered to hide her frustration at your lack of dress, “We’re LATE.”

“Get ooout,” your yawned. The touch of your bed head sticking up odd ends, unable to manage a better comeback as her fist clutched your doorknob, and her teeth gritted with annoyance at the plushie that flung through the air. Split the otherwise pause of the morning, intended to shoo her nagging from your doorstep. Drawn upon the opposite. Her school uniform tucked and maneuvered indignantly over your bedding. The realization of her rage encroaching having sobered you from your sleep, the flip of your form off the bedding in a scurry to be free of the tangle of sheets as you slipped across the wood floor narrowly dodging her swings. The fling of her skirt, careless as she pursued you through the hallway. The pound of your socks against the home’s wood floors. Tracked throughout the home, landing through the stairs as you stumbled to safety, desperately slipping through to the kitchen as your sister dodged attempted interventions, thrown decor in your panic and leaped over the furniture. Her annoyance coming to a head to discover your successful emersion into the kitchen. Tucked into the skirts of your elder sister’s school uniform. Her long black hair temporarily folded over her back, the apron secures at her hips and the met of your hands upon her waste as you peeked over at your opponent. The touch of a knowing grin, and tongue peeked through lips daring her to take another step.

The warmth of the moment, and the greeting of fried eggs that touched upon the giggles that greeted your elder sister’s laughter. The touch of a spatula caught between her long, graceful fingers as the other dotingly caught in the ends of your disheveled bedhead. Her lavender eyes delighted in the warmth of a nosy breakfast with squabbling siblings in a life full of peace, knowing all too well the threatening flick of Shinobu’s wrist. Intending you as her target, familiar to the light, and devoid of the nightmares of the past. Bathed in the laughter of siblings, and squabbles of petty natures, hers to claim, and hers to delight in as the touch of your arm around her waste leaned into your touch.

Asobeyo tomare.

Within Reach, Fleeting Headcanons

I intended for the reader of Within Reach to have been 3 or 4 years of age when the tragic experience happened as the memories for this area tend to be fuzzy, yet still obtainable for some. I went for a sort of Rapunzel like the Disney version where she realizes she is the lost princess, to reflect on the reader. Their breathing style utilizing folksong from their native region, a butterfly motif on the hilt of their dagger and even their final form, Fifth Form: Chouchou.

The memories were there, painted in small touches upon your person. The natural way your eyes followed the Insect Pillar during training. The way you could not help the way you found her in the crowd, and the way you felt an undeniable ache within your breast. Practically suffocated by an unfamiliar draw.

Little butterfly motifs that decorated the hilt of your blade, your violet eyes snagged upon the emblem as your fingers traced it. It had been selected on a whim; you had told yourself. Convinced yourself that your natural attraction to the design was coincidence.

Yet, when she had tended to your scraps following your sparing match with Muichiro, her eyes had not left your features. Practically etching every line into memory, why you could not place, nor could you comprehend the way a smile had met her lips when she had found the scar on your cheek. As though it was familiar and… safe?

You were familiar with the overall appeal of the Insect Pillar; Shinobu was nothing if not cordial amongst the ranks. Though whispers that her smile would tug with a combatant patient, a past of aggression frequented the Butterfly Mansion, but though there had been so much affection with the way that others presented her.

And yet, there was a knot in your stomach when you met face to face with her smile. As though tugged the edges on your cheeks, forced and strained. Miserable façade of kindness, of softness that portrayed the motions rather than sincerity a smile should present. You did have the basis for this opinion that had formed, but still it had formed.

As uncomfortable as a knot in your stomach as she conducted her performance. Snagged at the brow of her delicate features. As though she was conducting some inner battle that you could not comprehend, and that moment had haunted you.

As the nightmares in the night. The ache of fear, deep into your being. The depths of night struggled to combat a figment of the mind, a demon you had not met in this life combatted and determined to rob you of your security. The scream of a woman, the life faded from her features. The shatter of her voice, the crackle that left her bones and shook you from your slumber. Bathed in sweat, and nails that roamed your scalp. Always grappling with a figment of a past you had not understood.

A past that haunted you and followed you amongst the waking hours. The faint ghost of the Insect Pillar’s influence not far from reach. Always within grasp, kakushi under her care pushed to care for your wounds immediately. Mizunoto determined to follow where you lead—in fear of the oddly kind threat the medic had uttered in the shadows. Her positioning attempted to combat any potential hazards to your life.

Initially, Uzui attempted to ignore her intrusion. The unhanded tactics entertaining for the retired shinobi. Adorable really, he had found the entire ploy mere child’s play. In part, Shinobu had been aware how delicately she had dared to cross into another Hashira’s business, and for the most part, she often found herself unable to combat the intrusive impulse. Daring to stray into his borders without reason or thought--- burned herself through the late hours, her crow not having reported your return to the Sound Pilla compelled her to wandering to the region you had trailed off onto in a recent mission.

Intercepted by the Sound Pillar himself, his knowing smile cocked to his head. Oh, he had noticed long before that something had been off with the poison-wielder. Time from time, he would intentionally probe her if only to chase a minor high of lethal dosage, but it was not until it became increasingly a threat to your progress. An overtly protective sister far too willing to deny the corps code, and interject herself into your missions. From a protective stance, he had allowed it, entertained how adorable it had been that she had attempted to stray under his radar. Creative, she had conducted a number of unique approaches to dodging his presence, but experience had triumphed over novice.

Shinobu had done her best to quip a smile upon being discovered; she wasn’t a fool. The Insect pillar had accepted that it was only a matter of time before she had forced Uzui’s hand. His silence having been little more than a temporary allowance to meddle born of entertainment for the shinobi, but upon the approach of drawing the demonic forces out, she had tread too far.

Doubted the retiree Hashira’s devotion to the corps, and questioned his intentions with his own tsuguko, threatened the code that had bound the both of them to service. He had known, for how long Kocho could not determine, but the weight had been carried in his words alone. Just as her voice had met his beneath the moonlight. The weight of her plum eyes was fierce, and yet, at peace with her decisions. Underlined secrets in her speech that the Sound Pillar could not ignore. The resignation of the older man’s decisions, and the quiet of her voice.

“I leave them in your care.”

The weight was more than he could bear, and yet, Uzui did not push. Nor did he dare. The painful smile that met her departure. Mournful of a past he did not wish to revisit, her resolve leading to far heavier implications.

Kocho had become aware that the Sound Pillar had intended for you to undertake his duties, his title, and his claim. More so, when you had offered your participation into the Infinity Castle, Uzui had praised your willingness, and felt assured that you would survive which was what had sent her into guard.

Her intrusion into your missions had become less noted, a silent agreement that the Sound Pillar would send word should you find yourself in a dangerous situation. Their communication was more amicable, if not built on the quite understanding that Uzui would not disclose, and Kocho would not press.

Neither coming forth with the information, Uzui was content to allow Kocho to manage her private affairs as she saw fit and shield you from the past. Ushered the burden, and dutifully confined herself to burying the secret in the vials of congested wisteria poison. An oath to protect her younger sibling was carried to the grave if only to give you a normal life.

Kocho greeting death had not been the easiest for her—she was terrified upon realizing that you had entered Doma’s domain. The sight of Kanao, and you left to the Second Moon’s wrath was nothing that she had anticipated and filled her with dread. She prayed from the parrels between life and death that you could hold out as she had instructed her tsuguko.

And upon seeing you in the inbetween—hear heart ached at the joy that hearing you whisper for her brought her.

You remembered her.

You had lived.

Kanae as the older sister often takes the biggest route and role in caring for you and Shinobu. Her tendencies to care for you remain steadfast. She has taken an active role in both of your lives, and I believe carried her past life into her present. I think she’s in touch with herself enough that she would always remember.

With Shinobu coming in at a dependent terms--- likely something that threatened your safety such as a school bully in your youth would awaken her past life. Her protective streak over you will only increase.

As will her teasing. I mean, it’s an older sister’s duty, and she will not hesitate to continue.

But following the retrieval of her past memories, her tongue and actions will be that much more lethal to those who dare tread into your safety and threaten her peace.

She has been known to make school bully cries, and chase them through the neighborhood and slam them into the ground, attempting to wail on them until Kanae intervenes.

As an older sister in the modern era, Shinobu picks up little treats from time to time, but she will never admit that they are from her. She’d rather you think your parents picked it up, or that Kanae happened upon the trinket.

She is for the most part, quite. It’s not that she is not involved in your life, or indifferent to your interests. It’s that she enjoys her own anatomy, and her space. More so, she is known to become agitated if you interfere with her day to day. She expects respect, and the space between the two of you. She feels that there is an unspoken amount of trust between the two of you, but at the same time, she has little tolerance for disruptive behavior to her schedule. If you share a room, learn to clean after yourself because you can expect a number of spats that potentially turn physical between the two of you. As siblings often do.

Most of her responses are fairly direct and to the point, as they always are.

Things like expressing you’ll take the last pudding will be met with a simple, “Mmhmm.”

Inner jokes will become common place, especially when dealing with noisy neighbors, or extended family. Giggles over these shared inside jokes will be a regular part of your interactions, and a rare moment of peace between the two of you. Because truthfully, you are siblings, and especially when you are younger you will experience back and forth more, but as you grow older there will be such a strong foundation of love and respect between the two of you, no one would ever guess you used to butt heads regularly.

As for Kanae, she is dutiful. With busy parents, she takes an active role in caring for the two of you. She’s happy to act as a peace keeper, and provide breaks as necessary. That’s not to say from time to time she’s not drained--- she definitely is, but thankfully Shinobu is capable of detecting when these moments are taking place and will take you to the park, for ice cream, or small little bonding excursions to give your elder sister time to herself.

She has the enact ability to determine the exact moment that things have taken a turn, and can often act as an intervention as necessary--- really, she’s going to have to learn to allow the two of you to have your spats. It’s necessary for all of you. She has to learn that she does not have to be “mom” and allow you two to learn to navigate your interactions.

She’s so committed though, and she has such an open affection for the both of you that she often packs your lunches. Pleased to give as much to your bentos as she can. Cute little octopus sausages, flower cut grapes, she is committed to spending the time to make sure that it is enjoyable and nutritious, and yet, somehow ohagi has still snuck its way into your lunchbox. Shinobu. She goes out of her way to track your school calendar, and makes the extra care to show up to every event even the smallest of plays.

Shinobu thinks you make the dumbest duck in a play she has ever seen. Not that she saw it.

Kanae happily waits by the school gate, eager to pick you up in your mother’s place. Your grin as you greet her only brightened by the sight of Shinobu tucked behind her. The small touch of a blush on the tip of her ear as you vibrate with joy, your hand finding the both of theirs as you stroll home.

#demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #insect hashira #insect pillar #🍡tsuyospeaks

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