I joined the Demon Slayer Corps when I was 13 years old.
What does it feel like to live in a family that values sons over daughters, with a sister who is nothing but a hypocrite?
Because I had been starved for so long, I suffered from severe malnutrition. My body was both short and frail. My skin was pale and bloodless, with veins standing out clearly beneath the nearly transparent layer, making me look like a cracked porcelain doll. Because of that, children my age as well as neighbors avoided me. They shunned me because I looked like a frightening skeleton—an ominous curse in this world.
People outside rejected me, and my own family was no better.
From the moment I could remember, my mother had no job. She spent her days indulging in entertainment and luxury. In the family, she had no voice and relied completely on my father.
My father was a wealthy merchant, but also a gambling addict. Wins were rare; losses were common. Whenever he lost, he would drown himself in alcohol until drunk, then start beating people.
At night, his body reeked of liquor, the suffocating stench making me dizzy. He would grab my mother by the hair, dunk her head into a basin of water, pulling her up only when she was on the verge of death, then begin beating her.
He cursed in a hoarse and shrill voice. "You filthy whore! How many men have you slept with these past days? Did you enjoy lying beneath them? What, am I wrong? You're gone all day and when you come back, all you do is beg me for money!"
I curled up in the corner of my room, trying to ignore it, but the sounds of crashing, sobbing, and cursing filled the house. My hands covered my ears tightly, yet every single word still pierced through.
My mother was beaten until she curled up on the floor. Red liquid from her wounds spread across the floor, the pungent smell of blood nauseating. There was no part of her skin left uninjured.
I heard my eldest brother's voice, sharp and cold like a blade sharpened to perfection.
"Don't kill her. Otherwise, even with bribes, Father won't escape the law. That'll be troublesome."
After that came the voices of my second and third brothers.
"She deserves to die. She gave birth to daughters for good luck, but one is sickly and the other is a jinx." My second brother's voice was cold, as if a gust of wind had blown straight into the bones, freezing them solid.
"Brother! Don't say that about Yuu. Isn't she already pitiful enough?" My third brother's voice was that of a boy in puberty—hoarse, yet tinged with innocence.
Yuu—my elder sister. The one everyone doted on because she was born with a heart condition.
"If anyone's to blame, it's her fault for giving birth to Fuun. Truly disgraceful." My third brother added.
Fuun… that was my name.