Chapter Text
Sabito was dying, and he wasn’t okay with it.
Then again, almost no one is calm when facing their end. Especially if they feel the poking of ribs through their skin and the warmth of blood pooling around them, mixing and melting in the snow he lay in. But Sabito had never been the type who clung to life with an iron grip. He preferred to act first and think about the repercussions it may have on himself later. It had saved himself and others from demons and people just as wretched many times, even if he was constantly in danger for it. Hell, as one of many Hashira, it only seemed obvious that it would be his fate to die young. He had long since accepted the possibility of death as an honor, bearing that knowledge with a smile, making himself ever more eager to run straight into danger without a second thought. The young man was always ready to save another's life even if it meant in exchange for his own. Some, actually many, called him reckless. But his lack of care for his living being was the price he wanted to pay to save another.
At least, that was how it was before.
But now, as he lays in a thick pile of powdery snow, limbs frozen and a gaping wound on his left side, he doesn’t feel so sure about the idea of dying. There had been no one he had been trying to save, no demon he had stalked out to end by his katana or the searing sun that would come in the morning. His death was about to be a pointless one.
“Shit, shit, get up,” he curses. His lungs screamed around the cold air, the sting more agonizing with the broken bones he had. Steadying his breath, Sabito tried to focus every little ounce of oxygen to flow near his left lung, where the blood continued to rush out of him. Why isn’t the Total Concentration breathing working? Come on, clot the wound! He screamed in his head. As he kept trying and trying with failing breaths to use a technique that had been second nature to him mere minutes ago, he felt his ribs creak and struggled not to gag from the pain. An object, long and sharp like his own katana, was lodged in his left lung, which he then realized were his ribs. No wonder he couldn't get enough air in; his only chance at Total Concentration punctured like the waterskin he had ripped as a child. Who knows what other injuries riddled his body as well? He could swear his ankle had twisted as it lay awkwardly, felt the dull ache of his heartbeat in the back of his head where it had sustained the impact of his fall. The pain had dulled, maybe from both blood loss and from the frigid environment, but even he had to accept he was in bad shape.
But as the snow continued to num his body, he battled the feeling of relief that it provided as he knew he'd be in for a world of pain if he didn't do something soon. Gods above, he didn’t have time for his body betraying him, for thinking about how stupid he was, for any of it. He maybe had a minute, perhaps even thirty seconds, to get back up and run from the demon who attacked him while in a state he could only describe as blind by emotion.
He shamefully thought how it hadn't even been that strong, probably not even reaching that of an upper moon, but it still managed to ambush him before he even knew the fight had begun. He had no idea how he, one of the strongest Hashira in the demon slayer corps, could have been attacked and left so miserably. But he was wasting more time and oxygen that could go to his brain on such ponderings.
Breathe, he thought. Breathe, you sad excuse of a man. You can’t die here.
As much as he tried to convince himself he would not die here, the chances of him even making it out of the snow-laden grove he made it to were slim to none. There were only two real options he could see ahead: try to run away now and eventually bleed to death, or try to heal his wounds for the demon to eventually find him and pluck his life away like the dormant clovers below him. Sabito may be cocky, but he knows his limits. At least, he thought he did, but something plaguing him had made him weak for just enough time to make him act incredibly stupid this evening. He had to admit, of all the reckless things he had done, of all the danger he'd willingly placed himself into and the scars that riddled his body as proof of it, this was by far the dumbest he had ever been. To let a fight with his, well, maybe he was not Sabito’s anymore; to allow a fight with “ A” friend turn him incredibly distracted and careless.
Sabito let out a weak sigh and watched his breath turn into mist and frost, watching it billow away with a gust of wind. He would have shuttered had he not gone wholly numb at this point. The sky laid a pale blanket of clouds above him, alight from the moon's glow, with nothing but tall evergreens covered in a thick layer of white to frame the view. Specks of crystal snow fell around him, and he swore that he heard the distant singing of windchimes. It was a pure wonderland of winter and ice, like the ones he shared at Urokodaki's home. It was a truly breathtaking sight. Haha, breathtaking, literally... He chuckled to himself internally. But soon, all he could imagine was what an ugly blot of red he must have been against the otherwise pristine scenery.
How did I even let myself be hunted so easily after all that's happened? Despite his thoughts, Sabito started not to care as his thoughts turned as cloudy as the sky above. He didn’t have enough blood to form more complex connections within his mind. And now that he thought about it, he felt quite sleepy. He heard a sudden snap in the distance. By most, they would have mistaken the slight noise for a snow hare or deer, but Sabito knew what was after him. And judging by the sound, it was probably only a couple hundred meters away. And it was getting closer. Stalking him like the wounded prey he now was.
Sabito closed his eyes and focused on what was around him, taking in the crisp crunch of snow against his clammy hands. He felt the wind blocked from its course by his matted red hair. He condemned the damned exhaustion weighing on his chest, one that wasn’t unique to this moment, a feeling he always carried. He had never been one to focus on these things, but it was like all ability to think was lost to him. Even the serene nature around him started to become a tiring image.
“I suppose now,” he whispered, “Now would be an okay time to rest, if only for a minute. Like 'Yuu tells me to.” A minute was all he had.
And so, all alone in the snow, Sabito closed his eyes. Ones his mother had said were the color of wisteria. She and his father flashed in his mind briefly as his vision became dark. But, with his sight out of the way and no other thoughts roaming in his mind, suddenly Sabito started to remember. Or maybe with his so close to either slumber or death, he should say he began to dream.