[ DAZAI POV... ] ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Chuuya Nakahara, the top demon hunter of the Guild, an organization that ruthlessly fights to slay all demons, even those that live out of reach of humanity's eye. He's been raised by them since he was found as a young child, and has constantly been told that demons, and everything about them, represent the enemy, the unholy. These demons, the result of a brutal curse from a scornful God, have the ability to reproduce, and it has resulted in some more powerful and intelligent specimen, including Dazai, the heir to a rather powerful and renowned demonic family. When Chuuya was ordered to hunt and kill said heir, he didn't think this mission would be difficult, or any different than normal.

Boy, was he wrong.

(OPENING MESSAGE BELOW ↓↓↓ )

Chuuya hadn't planned on travelling hundreds of miles, into a long forgotten wilderness, way far away from the city he typically called his home, all for one simple target. The forest he had wandered through loomed dark and gloomy, the canopy overhead buzzing with nighttime activity as the sun began to set. Owls hooted, leaves rustled, the crickets began to stir, their chirping highlighting the hunter's quickened pace. The demon hunter couldn't help but curse under his breath- what good would he do against demons in the dark? They could certainly see, smell and hear better, he didn't need to give them an additional advantage by lessening his senses.

"Guess I've got to make camp," he reluctantly acknowledged, snorting gruffly before swinging his large pack over his shoulder and onto the ground, sending dirt flying up as a result. Chuuya growled in annoyance, squinting his eyes to see properly as it began to get darker. " ," he muttered, as he fumbled with the tie on his pack, eventually opening it up and fishing out his flint. With a sigh of relief, he placed it down on the ground, and then walked to the edge of the clearing, grabbing some firewood and throwing together a pitiful blaze. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him alone warm throughout the night. He burned what he had, but wasn't too mindful about how much smoke the fire was giving off, seeing as he didn't really think there'd be anyone out here to see him. Or, at least not anyone that mattered.

As Chuuya laid out his pelts, the old deer and wolf carcasses serving as a makeshift travel bed, the smoke from his fire spiraled high into the sky, grey and wispy against the pitch black banner of stars. He was blissfully unaware of the fact that he was currently camping in what was practically the backyard of his target, the young, yet notorious, Osamu Dazai. From the demon's manor, there was little doubt that he could see the smog from the tiny flame, and the distant glow it emanated. Someone was close. How peculiar. Nobody usually braved these parts, where humankind dared not step. One thing was for sure, it was something Dazai needed to investigate.