The Second Year After My Master Died

[Dark at first, devoted puppy later: possessive disciple × sickly, easygoing master who lives one day at a time]

I raised a disciple.

Then my disciple killed me.

I never expected to open my eyes and find myself back two years earlier.

At the time, I'd just finished raising my disciple into an adult. He was going to come kill me in a month.

So I ran away.

But my disciple actually chased after me.

He even said he wanted to protect me.

You've got to be kidding.

I immediately faked my death and slipped away.

But later, I realized... there might be more to the story.

"Isn't it said that the longer a white-haired demon's hair is, the stronger its demonic powers? How could the little disciple you raised possibly kill you?"

"Ah... I let him."

*

1. The main story is told in third person.

2. The blurb needs revising, but overall, it's a story about a sickly master being thoroughly devoured by the little wolfdog he raised.

Theme: Love yourself well