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Chapter Text

Giyuu was quite sure he was dead when he opened his eyes to gentle blue-white light. The last thing he remembered was the the glowing green Lower Four inside the pupils of the demon he had been fighting. The sharp, hot pain of the demon’s dying blow, knocking him far enough backward to slip from the edge of a cliff. He remembered looking up at the dawn sky as he fell, the crash of cold water as he hit the river below. Now the surface beneath him was warm and soft. A bedroll, he realized. He cracked his aching eyes open and saw a hanging paper lantern hovering above him. 

“You gonna stay awake this time?” A voice called. He numbly rolled his head toward the sound and saw only a vague, blurred figure. “Or another false alarm?”

He parted his lips; they stuck together as he tried to speak. “Wh—where am I?” 

The figure came into view. A young woman knelt on the floor beside him holding a teapot. She had dark hair and eyes, tanned skin and calloused hands. “Fukaura.” She said. Her front teeth had a girlish gap between them. “Are you in pain? This is medicinal tea, it can help.”

Giyuu tried sitting up and was shocked at the pain that shuddered through his ribs. He gritted his teeth and managed to prop himself up on an elbow. He didn’t answer the girl’s question, but did accept the cup of tea and sipped it thoughtfully. 

“I saw you fall.” The girl said. “You killed that monster.” He looked up at her silently. She continued. “That… thing has been picking off the fisherman for weeks. Thank you.”

Her remark brought back vague memories of a set of hands fishing him out of the river and pulling him into a boat. He looked down at himself to find his uniform shirt had been removed, and his chest and arm were wrapped with bandages, shadowed with blood. He wanted to thank her, but just asking where he was had brought him quite enough pain, so instead he took another sip of the tea. 

“How long has it been?” He grunted after a long time. 

“You’ve been unconscious for two days, on and off.” She told him, holding the cup for him between sips and refilling it without being asked. “May I ask…who are you? How did you do that? I’ve never seen anything like it!” 

He swallowed and sat back, his jaw tight against the pain in his chest. “It’s my job.” Giyuu finally said. 

She didn’t appear satisfied with that answer, but set the teacup down and put her hands on her knees anyway, smoothing down the fabric of her work trousers. “Someone came by looking for you.” She said nervously. She thought of the man who had appeared in the village that morning asking if anyone had seen his missing comrade. He’d been white-haired and tall as a mountain, dripping in beads and chains and gold bangles. “He was dressed like you. Well..kind of.”

That got Giyuu’s attention. Now ignoring the pain outright, Giyuu sat up again urgently, looking at her with narrowed eyes, silently compelling her to continue. 

“I didn’t tell him anything!” She said quickly. “I didn’t know if he was trying to help or trying to hurt you.”

He planted a hand on the ground and pushed onto his knees, ignoring her many protests. “Hey, hey, hey!” She begged. “Stop, you’re hurt—”

“My sword.” He grunted. On the table beside them his uniform shirt, though torn and bloodied, was folded neatly. But his sword was not among his other belongings. His head whipped back to her as he felt a hand on his arm and one on his shoulder, gently pushing him backwards. 

“Please, your wounds haven’t healed yet! You can't go back into battle, especially not with him! He was huge!” Her brows were pulled high in worry. Giyu shook his head at her. 

“No, no, he was trying to help. He’s a…” he stumbled over his word choice. “Coworker. I need to get back there.”

She frowned at him but stopped trying to push him back. “Your sword isn’t here, you fell without it. I’m sorry.”

He took a moment to consider that, and reconsider the pain that was creeping back in from his ribs and around his heart. Uzui must’ve been looking downstream for a body to confirm his death, which was an unnecessary gesture, since an abandoned sword with a missing slayer is always assumed dead.  But he could bet who Uzui might’ve been thinking of when he made the gesture. 

Someone who wouldn’t accept he was dead and move on. Someone that, now that the girl had sent Uzui away empty handed, would think he was dead. 

Giyuu pushed off of his knees, wavering, and reached for his uniform. The girl gasped and stood with him, trying to get him to sit back down. “Thank you very much for your kindness and hospitality.” Giyuu said as he shrugged on his uniform shirt and tried not to wince. 

“Sir, you could die if you leave now. Your wounds are very severe!” 

He looked down at the bandages as he shakily buttoned his uniform. The shadow of blood had grown significantly just since he’d stood. He sucked in a slow breath, let it out equally slowly, and set his jaw. 

“Thank you very much.” He said. “I’ll be going now:”

“Wait!” She grabbed him by the arm, though did not pull him back, just held on. “Please. If you must go, please take this with you.” She shoved a waterskin into his hands. “It’s an herbal mixture to help with pain and promote healing. It’s not nearly enough to heal you but…my village owes you a great debt. I pray you find your way safely.”

Giyuu looked from the waterskin to her face, then nodded once. Without wasting another moment, he disappeared, headed back toward the mansion, and toward his friend. 

X

The two days since Giyuu’s crow had informed him of his death had passed in a blur to Rengoku. Many of those hours were spent sitting on his knees, the sword laid out in front of him, staring at it as if it was going to grow legs and walk away. He hadn’t wanted to believe that Giyuu could truly be gone. In fact, he’d refused to allow the other Hashira to take the sword from him to return it to Urokodaki. Even when Tengen came to confirm the news, to tell him that no one had seen a trace of him, not in the river or the village beyond it, Rengoku had simply shook his head in an uncharacteristic silence and walked away with the sword in hand. 

Now two days later, Rengoku was finally buckling his own sword belt, carrying Giyuu’s scabbard delicately as if worried he’d break it, and preparing to make the journey to Urokodaki’s cabin to inform him of what had happened. Though he knew it was the right thing, he was reluctant to return the sword. It was like admitting defeat. 

The few other Hashira at the mansion watched him in silence as he headed toward the gates, eyes fixed on his path, hands clenched white upon Giyuu’s sword. 

He had not yet made it out of the wisteria grove when he noticed a figure in the distance, shambling forward from the mist. 

Rengoku stopped in his tracks and put a hand on his own sword. The figure moved erratically, walking with a limp, its head and back hunched, clutching at its own body. The figure drew closer, head down. Who could have found their way here? Rengoku stiffened and slid Giyuu’s sword into the other side of his sword belt, then unsheathed his own and held it with both hands. Or what?

As the creature neared, Rengoku could see that it wasn’t a creature at all, but a man. He could make out a bit of pale skin. An unruly mess of black hair. 

A mismatched haori. 

He nearly dropped his sword. Finally, about fifty yards away, the figure picked up his head. The mist was too dense for them to lock eyes, but Rengoku didn’t need to see clearly to understand who he was looking at. Not daring to speak, he stepped forward. Then ran. The colors of the haori became clear. One side maroon, one quilted gold. 

“Giyuu!” Rengoku practically screamed. “Giyuu!” His sword clattered to the ground as he abandoned it in favor of reaching for his friend. 

He made it to him just as Giyuu’s legs buckled beneath him. Giyuu toppled sideways into Rengoku’s arms; Rengoku gently lowered him to the ground, tears blurring his vision. 

“You’re alive!” Rengoku exclaimed. He put a hand over Giyuu’s chest as if to make sure his heart was really beating. A soft grunt was Giyuu’s only response. “I can’t believe it! Thank god!” Rengoku held him tightly for a moment, then pulled back to look at him closely. His face was gaunt, skin an even more anemic pale than usual. His eyes were sunken and half open. 

“Kyojuro…” Giyuu mumbled vacantly. 

Rengoku set his jaw; Giyuu had made it back to the mansion but was still gravely injured, teetering on the brink of this world and the next. Rengoku slid one arm beneath his shoulders and the other beneath his legs and lifted him from the gravel, trying to ignore the large smears of blood Giyuu left behind. 

“You’re alright.” Rengoku said, as if trying to convince himself. “Let’s get you inside.”

With Giyuu securely in his arms, Rengoku took off in a dead sprint back toward the mansion. He shouted for Shinobu as he ran, drawing the attention of the Hashira who had just watched him leave a few moments ago. 

“That’s Tomioka!” Tengen remarked incredulously as a Rengoku sprinted past the training grounds. He lowered his swords and stepped forward to help, but Shinobu emerged from the mansion as he did so. 

“Wasn’t he dead?” Sanemi watched too, a hand on his hip. “Huh.”

“Oh my!” Shinobu exclaimed as Rengoku stopped in front of her, breathing fast, Tomioka limp in his arms. “What happened!”

“He must’ve found his way back from his battle!” Rengoku tightened his grip as Shinobu hurried them inside her Butterfly mansion and ushered them toward the medical wing. They passed Shinobu’s young Tsuguko, who watched them with wide, curious eyes. “He’s very badly injured!” Rengoku continued. 

“Kanao, bring me a bucket of water, a bandage kit, and my set of vials. Hurry!” Shinobu called. The girl took off as fast as her legs could take her. 

Rengoku placed a hand behind Giyuu’s head to steady it as he gently laid him down on a cot. Giyuu groaned lightly but did not move. Rengoku hovered for a moment, unsure what to do. He looked down at himself; his hands and the front of his uniform were covered in blood. 

He looked back up and watched Giyuu slowly breathing in and out, the rhythm somehow as steady as ocean tides. Rengoku found himself sitting on his knees beside the cot, helping Shinobu remove Giyu’s uniform shirt with shaking hands. 

“He’s already been bandaged…” Shinobu commented as she sliced through the soaked gauze with a pair of sharp medical shears. “Where has he been?” Her voice was low; she spoke mostly to herself.

“He’s been given stitches!” Rengoku pointed at Giyu’s chest. “Ah, he’s ripped through them!”

Kanao returned with the items and handed them to Shinobu, who set them on the bed beside Giyuu. Rengoku retrieved a wet rag and set about wiping the blood off Giyuu’s now bare chest, mostly to give himself something to do with his hands. 

The wound was broad and deep. Though it had been amateurly stitched, it appeared that Giyuu’s journey had torn it open again. Four large punctures slashed across his chest, from his lower hip all the way to his opposite shoulder. Rengoku moved quickly but gently to restore the pale color of Giyuu’s skin from beneath the bloodstains. Shinobu’s quick fingers followed behind his path, removing the broken down and broken-through stitches to replace them. 

The amount of damage considered, between the two of them it was fairly quick work to have Giyu stitched and bandaged once again.  Shinobu stood when she was finished, holding her bloodied hands out in front of her with a frown. 

“That should do it.” She said. “He’s very lucky you found him.”

“Thank you, Lady Shinobu.” Rengoku nodded. His voice was devoid of its typical enthusiasm. “Truly we are all lucky to know someone with such talent as yourself.”

“It could be a while before he wakes up.” Shinobu said slowly. Rengoku did not respond, but then Shinobu hadn’t really expected him to. She watched for a moment as he stared at Giyuu, his golden eyes flashing between his friend’s bare and bloodied chest and his slack, gaunt face. “And he’ll likely be in pain when he does. I’ll prepare a painkiller.” She left Rengoku and Giyuu alone together in the medical ward. 

The only sound in the medical ward for a few minutes was Giyuu’s rattling breaths. Steady as they were, and no doubt the reason why Giyuu had managed to survive, the way they seemed to claw their way out of Giyuu’s throat made Rengoku nervous. 

Though it wasn’t often that Rengoku found himself without anything to say, as he sat there staring at Giyuu, all he could think to do was close his fists around the fabric of his own uniform pants and stare. When he’d first seen Giyuu, it felt like he could breathe for the first time in those horrible two days thinking he was gone. But the sight of his friend now, breaths coming in painful hitched gasps, his thick-lashed eyes half open and unfocused, had stolen his breath away again. 

His shoulders sagged, as if a heavy weight was pressing down onto him. He shifted, scooting closer to Giyuu almost without realizing. His gut twisted with anxiety, but for what he couldn’t say. He had the distinct feeling of running out of time. 

They nearly had run out of time. In one horrible moment, their future had crumbled into nothing. He’d been on the precipice of continuing on without him. Though he’d only known Giyuu for a few months, Rengoku realized that it was that thought that frightened him. The possibility that they’d leave something unsaid. What do I want to say?

He didn't notice that Shinobu had returned to the room with the painkiller in hand until she set it down on the table beside Giyuu, and spoke.

“How are you doing?” she asked. Rengoku managed to tear his eyes from Giyuu to look at her.

“ Me ?” Shinobu waited. “Well I’m fine, of course!”

“These last few days have been hard on you.” she said gently. “I know you care about him.”

Rengoku snapped his head back toward Giyuu, surprised at the hot flush of his face. That anxiety flared again, and his palms were sweaty against the fabric of his uniform pants. Is that what I wanted to say? He thought. Is that what I was running out of time for ? Shinobu was silent behind him but he could feel her eyes on his back. She was always so discerning. She could notice anything. What had she noticed?

“I’m fine.” Rengoku finally said. “I’m fine, now.” 

We have time now. What do I want to say?

X

Giyuu didn’t remember much besides pain after he left the fishing village. He knew he’d made it to the master’s mansion, though, because he remembered the smell of wisteria and, more importantly, he remembered reaching his goal. Rengoku’s voice, showering over him like sunlight. He remembered looking up and seeing that halo of golden hair surrounding Rengoku’s concerned face. 

Now, he floated on the edge of consciousness, his body throbbing with soreness. He groaned lowly in the back of his throat, trying in vain to force his eyes to open. 

“Giyuu!” A voice called. “Giyuu? Are you waking up?” Hands were on his arm, gripping it firmly but gently. The voice belonged to Rengoku, which likely would have been clear from the volume alone. 

Giyuu grunted in response, trying to open his eyes. Any movement earned him a shock of pain down his chest. He groaned again and winced involuntarily, his lips pulling back to bare his teeth. 

“Ah, Shinobu said you’d be in pain when you awoke, let me go fetch her—” he felt Rengoku shift, his hands leaving his arm. Without thinking, Giyuu caught a handful of Rengoku’s sleeve and closed his fist around it to stop him from moving. Stay with me. He’d only wanted to stop Rengoku from leaving, but to his surprise Rengoku’s hand found his and gripped it firmly. 

“You’re alright now.” Rengoku whispered. His voice had a tenderness to it that made Giyuu ache. He finally managed to crack an eye open. 

Rengoku was bending over him, his golden eyes practically glowing as he stared at him in worry. “Giyuu?” He asked hesitantly. 

At first he groaned again, and tried to think beyond the painful haze that enshrouded him. He blinked his eyes open a little more; his lids were slightly stuck together with dried tears. After a moment Giyuu managed to look at Rengoku, both eyes open. The relief on his friend’s face was stunning. “Kyojuro…” he murmured, his voice hoarse. 

To his surprise, Rengoku abruptly leaned down and hugged him tightly, laughing brightly in his ear. “You’re alright! Thank goodness you’re alright!” He pulled back but kept his hands on Giyuu’s shoulders. If he noticed the bright red flush on Giyuu’s surprised face, he didn’t mention it. “We thought you were dead!” 

Giyuu realized he was still hanging on to Rengoku’s sleeve while Rengoku clung onto his shoulders. They looked at each other for a moment before Giyuu grunted again, pulling himself slightly forward so he could sit up. “My apologies.” He managed. 

Rengoku only let go of him long enough to adjust the pillows behind him so he could sit up, then went right back to grasping onto his arms as if he’d float away. An errant strand of his wild golden hair found its way between Giyuu’s fingers, still clutched onto Rengoku’s sleeve. “I thought you were gone.” Rengoku said again, his voice softer.

He tried to shift again but ended up aborting the effort, involuntarily sucking in a breath through clenched teeth at the pain that movement entailed. Rengoku squeezed his arms, then began to pull away. 

“Are you in pain? Let me fetch Shinobu!” 

Shaking his head, Giyuu held onto his sleeve tightly. “I’m fine. Want to—” he swallowed and let his breath out slowly. “Stay awake.” He opened his eyes again and found Rengoku nodding at him. His face broke into another smile. Neither spoke for a moment. Rengoku was giving off the distinct impression that he had something to say. Giyuu watched him and waited. 

“Giyuu,” was all he said at first. His smile faltered. “I thought you were gone.” There was so much he wanted to say, but that seemed to be all he could muster. “I thought…I feared…that I wouldn’t ever see you again.” Giyuu blinked in surprise. It wasn’t often that Rengoku struggled for words, unlike himself. It was almost endearing to watch, were it not so jarring.

“I’m sorry.” Giyuu whispered, as if speaking louder would bring Rengoku back to his senses. 

Rengoku looked down and abruptly realized how tightly he was holding onto Giyuu. He loosened his grip and sat back onto his heels. This time Giyuu released his grip on his sleeve and allowed him to move away. “I realized, these two days that you were gone, that there’s something I wanted to say…that I’ve been meaning to ask, though I wasn’t sure how to put it…” his voice was increasing in volume in nervousness. 

Ignoring the pain in his chest, Giyuu sat up, leaning closer. His lips parted in surprise when he saw the deep red beginning to flush Rengoku’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

“Well.” Rengoku rubbed his hands on his uniform pants. “I realized….” Abruptly, Rengoku looked back up at him, a wide, if nervous, smile on his face. “That you’ve never met my brother!” 

Giyuu waited, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh.” He eventually nodded slowly. 

“So I’d like to ask you to accompany me to my home for dinner!” He finished, proudly lurching himself up straight. “With my brother!” 

They looked at each other for a short moment. Giyuu opened his mouth, but Rengoku spoke again before he could. 

“After you recover, of course.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Though Rengoku was used to Giyuu’s silences, this time he squirmed beneath the weight of it, struggling to continue to meet Giyuu’s eyes. Later he would curse himself for his cowardice in failing to say what he meant, but at the present moment he could think of nothing more important than Giyuu’s answer to the question he did have the courage to ask. 

It seemed to surprise them both when Giyuu smiled. Giyuu’s smiles were few and far between, and for Kyojuro, watching his lips pull upwards ever so slightly was like watching the sun part through storm clouds. “Of course.” He said quietly, mercifully. The flame red blush on Rengoku’s face did not lessen, but his smile became broad and genuine. 

“Ah, fantastic!” His too-loud voice boomed through the medical ward. “Then we should set about getting you better!” 

Giyuu nodded his agreement and leaned back against the pillows. 

Rengoku remained at his bedside, still clutching the fabric of his own uniform, fidgeting nervously but smiling all the same. They eventually summoned Shinobu, who chided them both for waiting so long to tell her Giyuu had awoken. He finally accepted pain medication and sighed as it began working, feeling the soreness in his torso gradually fade away.

“You gave us quite a scare, you know!” Shinobu chided as Giyuu faded into sleep again. He nodded at her but said nothing, his body heavy and mouth stiff. “Especially this one.” She elbowed Rengoku, who laughed through the flush on his cheeks. Giyuu hummed in response before falling silent. The last thing he heard before sleep took him was Shinobu’s voice, murmuring to Rengoku beside him. 

“So did you tell him?”

Chapter Text

Rengoku could have smacked himself for that display, but he supposed all things considered, it didn’t go as badly as it could have. At the very least, Giyuu had agreed to dinner. Considering he believed his friend to be dead just a few hours prior, Rengoku was taking that as a win.

He continued to stay by Giyuu’s side through his recovery, leaving only to fulfill his duty on missions or bring them both food. Those few times he was out left Giyuu to think about those first few moments he had awoken, and the question Rengoku had asked. 

Something I wanted to say , Kyojuro had said before revising it to ask. And Shinobu had asked did you tell him? What was it that he’d wanted to say? That question followed Giyuu through his rehabilitation, especially when Rengoku was gone. 

When Rengoku was there, the rehabilitation went by like a breeze. 

Their swords clanged loudly together and echoed through the mansion courtyard. It was the first day Giyuu had been cleared by Shinobu to leave the butterfly mansion; the air was mild but the sun was warm on his skin. 

“I won’t hold back, you should know!” Rengoku called brightly from across their crossed swords. 

Giyuu responded with only a look. 

Rengoku grinned and pulled his sword back, then rushed forward with a fast and powerful strike to Giyuu’s left. Giyuu deflected it with his flexible water breathing, Rengoku’s fiery strike dissolving in a puff of steam. Rengoku kept at it and Giyu kept up, though only just. Sweat beaded on his brow. 

The force of Rengoku’s strikes made him take a step back, then another, and another. He bared his teeth and willed his muscles to move faster, his limbs to react quicker to the fire raining down on him. Rengoku’s sword glowed orange with heat, and he paused briefly. 

“I thought you said you weren’t holding back.” Giyuu remarked through his teeth. 

Rengoku laughed. “Well it is your first day—” he was cut off by a strike of Giyuu’s sword swinging so closely past his head that if he hadn’t tilted it down—and if Giyuu didn’t have such perfect aim—it would have sliced off a chunk of his hair. Rengoku raised his eyebrow and grinned, then lunged back into battle, sword blazing. 

Giyuu was mostly talk, but he held his own remarkably well for someone who’d been on death’s door just a few days prior. He and Rengoku circled one another; Giyuu’s feet seemed to independently remember the stances and footwork even without him trying. The pain in his chest and neck flared with each move he unleashed, but he pushed himself forward all the same. 

“Happy?” Rengoku taunted over the sound of metal-on-metal. Giyuu answered only with a set of strikes of his own. 

Their blades clashed, then they came apart, then clashed again, back and forth. Rengoku had him on his toes after a few moments, his strikes coming faster and faster. Giyuu could feel the heat both of his efforts and of Rengoku’s attacks on his face. He shifted his grip on his sword. 

Eleventh form: dead calm . 

Even knowing the purpose of their duel was for Giyuu’s rehabilitation, Rengoku couldn’t help but try his best to win. With a grin he blazed forward for Giyuu, planning to bring his blade to his throat and stop. Checkmate. But as he brought down his strike, his target had disappeared. 

His eyes widened. When he turned he found Giyuu’s blade at his throat, having dodged Rengoku’s blow with his lightning fast eleventh form. Giyuu tapped Rengoku’s chin with his blade, tipping it upwards triumphantly.

 Rengoku laughed and Giyuu lowered his sword. “That eleventh form is incredible!” Rengoku praised. “Safe to say you’re recovering well?” Giyuu nodded. “Good, because I told Senjuro about dinner, and he’s very excited.” He sheathed his sword and Giyuu did the same. 

“Oh.” Giyuu breathed. He’d half thought that perhaps Rengoku had forgotten his invitation, or that he’d offered in the heat of the moment he’d realized Giyuu was alright, but didn’t actually mean it. He didn’t say anything further. After a short moment of walking he noticed Rengoku was looking at him, leaning down to get a good view of his face. 

He squirmed and tried to focus on walking straight ahead. Rengoku had a way of reading him like a book, even when given nothing but a blank face. Much like Urokodaki, he’d managed to decipher Giyuu’s silent language of subtle facial expressions and mannerisms. Apparently Rengoku was pleased with what he found, because after a moment, he smiled.  

“Don’t worry.” He said brightly. “You and Senjuro will be the very best of friends, I know it.”

That wasn’t what Giyuu was concerned about, but he allowed Rengoku to believe it. His mind was occupied by wondering what Rengoku had needed to tell him, and what he hadn’t. 

“It’s actually a nice walk to my home.” Rengoku was continuing. “Perhaps tomorrow evening, if you’re feeling up to it, we could make a trip there? I’ve been meaning to show you that udon shop Senjuro and I love.”

Giyuu simply nodded. 

Rengoku watched him carefully, noted the very faint pink on his friend’s cheeks, and smiled. 

X

Shinobu knelt beside Giyuu and gently worked his arm back and forth to test his range of motion, humming to herself as she assessed his recovery. The wounds still hurt, but he could at least move his arms fully. She clicked her tongue and wrote something down in her medical notes. 

He inclined his head down toward her, silently questioning her findings. She smiled at him. 

“Your recovery has progressed well.” She said. She waited expectantly, sensing that there was a question on Giyuu’s mind. 

“Well enough to leave the grounds?” Giyuu obliged her. Shinobu smiled knowingly. 

“A field trip?” He just watched her, his eyes narrowed. She smiled wider. “Where would you like to go?” 

“Rengoku would like to take me to meet his brother for dinner.” Giyuu explained. 

Shinobu didn’t raise her eyes from her clipboard of medical notes. “Ah, so a date.”

“It’s not a date.” Giyu snapped. She giggled and he felt heat coming to his face, which seemed to delight Shinobu and served only to make the heat rise. He quickly closed his mouth and grabbed a fistful of his uniform pants. Was it? How could it be? 

Putting a hand gently on his shoulder, Shinobu smiled at him. “You’re in fine condition to leave, so long as it’s for dinner and not a battle.”

“Just dinner.” Giyuu nodded. Though now, after Shinobu’s reaction, he wasn’t convinced. She marked a few more things down on her clipboard, humming to herself as if she hadn’t just shaken Giyu’s entire world. This time it was she who was frustratingly silent, failing to elaborate on her date hypothesis. The conversation he’d overheard just before losing consciousness the first day he’d awoken still  replayed in his mind. She knew something. Shinobu seemed to know everything

 What was it that Rengoku had wanted to tell him?

Rengoku was preparing for the evening in his own way, by pacing the gardens with his hands behind his back, rehearsing his lines under his breath. Nothing sounded right. I love you felt too strong, even if it was true. Was it true? I like you was too easily misinterpreted. Hopefully Giyuu already knew he liked him. How could he not like him? He sighed and turned back around the other direction, watching the gravel pass beneath his feet. 

He was so focused he didn’t realize someone had stepped into his pacing path until he’d run headlong into them. Reflexively he shot his hand out and ended up catching his victim, Mitsuri, by the elbow to keep her from falling.

“Ah!” She exclaimed, her face already flushed scarlet. “Kyojuro-Senpai! Forgive me, I must not have been watching where I was going!” 

“No, no! It was me who was not watching where I was going!” Rengoku exclaimed back. “Pardon me!”

She sidled up to him, which he didn’t mind. Her enthusiasm was infectious. “What are you up to today?” She asked brightly. “The cherry blossoms sure are beautiful this afternoon!”

“Yes! They are lovely!” Rengoku agreed loudly, falling into step with her. After a beat of silence, Mitsuri abruptly stopped, holding out her arm to stop Rengoku as well. He held his mouth open stupidly, surprised at her sudden movement. He didn’t have time to question her before she turned to face him with a bright, excited smile and grabbed him by the collar of the haori. 

“You have a date tonight, don’t you?!” She screamed at him, voice raising higher and higher by the moment. He gasped and went red. “You do!” She cried. 

He leaned forward and grabbed her by the wrists, trying to remove her from his haori. “What makes you say that?” He’d lowered his voice and hoped she’d do the same, but her excitement was too great. Also his version of a “lowered voice” was still louder than most people’s speaking volume. 

“Are you kidding?” She giggled. “It’s written all over your face!” Mitsuri gasped and released him, clasping her hands together beneath her chin. “Who is it with?” He opened his mouth and she grabbed him again, interrupting him. “Wait! Don’t tell me! Let me guess…” 

He flushed scarlet and chuckled at himself. Of course Mitsuri would be able to tell immediately what he had planned. It was like she could smell it on him, some disturbance in his aura that betrayed his feelings. She snapped her fingers. 

“It’s Tomioka, isn’t it!” He hunched down and put a finger to his lips to shush her, which only proved her hypothesis and elicited an excited squeal. “I knew it! I knew it! Oh, you have to tell me everything!”

“I assure you there’s nothing to tell!” Rengoku insisted. “Not yet anyway…”

“What are you going to do? Where will you go?” She was practically jumping up and down. “Ah!” She screamed aloud then, making Rengoku flinch. From across the garden he could see that Sanemi and Iguro had paused their training to watch them curiously. “The cherry blossoms are so beautiful, how romantic!” She’d grabbed him by the upper arm, squeezing so tightly Kyojuro had to bite back a surprised and pained yelp. Sometimes Mitsuri didn’t quite realize her own strength. 

“Mitsuri!” 

Steam was practically coming out of her ears. “Aah! It’s like something out of a romance novel! I can hardly stand it!” 

He gently took her by the wrist again and tried to shush her, pulling her along with him to a more secluded area of the gardens. “Listen, I actually could use your help.” She gasped and put both hands on her cheeks, but he continued before she could start screaming again. 

“I meant to tell him that I—well. Tell him how I feel about him.” Her massive braids bobbed up and down as she nodded excitedly. “But instead I just ended up inviting him to dinner to meet my brother. Now I’m not sure how to bring it up again, or what to say.” They came to a small creek and stopped on the wooden bridge, watching cherry blossoms fall into the slow moving water. He leaned against the wooden railing and she put her elbows against it too, sensing his change in mood. His face was flushed and focused. 

“Hmm.” She nodded slowly in apparent agreement. “I can see how that could be difficult.” Mitsuri put a hand against her chin and tapped her rosy lips. “But you have a big advantage.” She grinned then, and Kyojuro turned to look at her. 

“Is that so?”

“Yes!” She grabbed him by the arm again, mercifully gentler this time. “He already likes you!” 

Kyojuro could have fallen off the bridge. “He does? How on Earth can you tell?” 

The Love Hashira gave him a look before giggling again. “A woman has her ways, you know!” Kyojuro laughed with her, nervous and joyous and disbelieving all at once. Mitsuri continued. “Now, what I would do, is think about what you would want him to say to you !”

He hummed and gripped the railing of the bridge. He couldn’t really imagine Giyuu saying anything like what he wanted to say. Perhaps, if he was very lucky, Giyuu might slide a little closer to him, so their shoulders and knees were brushing. Perhaps he would even allow him to take his hand. Kyojuro realized abruptly that he wasn’t breathing, considering the idea that Giyuu might lean ever so slightly forward, allow Kyojuro to take his face in both hands—

Mitsuri elbowed him hard in the ribs and brought him back to reality. He let out a quick, sharp sigh as he remembered himself, and grinned at Mitsuri, who was scarlet red merely from association. “I see you’ve already decided what to say!” She said in delight. 

And that was it, Rengoku thought. It wasn’t what he needed to say . Giyuu was never that kind of person anyway. He spoke through silence, in little tilts of his head or a nearly imperceptible upward tilt of his brow. Nothing he could say would feel right, this was something he needed to do instead. Now he just needed to do it. 

***

Giyuu stood nearly motionless at the mansion gates, unmoving except for his nervous fiddling with the hem of his haori sleeves. He’d briefly considered wearing something other than his uniform, only to remember he didn’t really own any clothes other than his uniform, and quickly forgot about that endeavor. 

Shinobu’s jesting hadn’t left his thoughts since that afternoon. She seemed convinced Rengoku had meant this outing to be a date . Giyuu had never been on a date before, in fact the thought had never even crossed his mind. Had he not been so sure Shinobu was teasing him, he might’ve asked what exactly the implications of a date entailed. For the moment, all he could do was worry at his haori and wait. 

The sun was just grazing the horizon when Kyojuro, mercifully and almost endearingly punctual, joined him at the gates with a smile that rivaled the golden light of the evening. Giyuu’s heart stirred. 

“Good evening!” Kyojuro said loudly. Giyu inclined his head slightly but didn’t respond. “Shall we?” Out of habit Kyojuro nearly put his arm out for Giyu to take hold of before he remembered himself and awkwardly rubbed his uniform pants instead. Giyu didn’t seem to notice, or more accurately he didn’t seem to mind , since Kyojuro knew better than to think Giyu didn’t notice something. 

Though he was always pleased to be around Kyojuro, this time Giyuu could feel nervousness mounting in his gut, his stomach doing flips that shockwaved down his arms and left his palms sweaty. Each time Kyojuro opened his mouth to say something Giyuu held his breath in case it was the something. His mind wandered to what that something might be the entire way to the Rengoku estate. 

A part of him, small and giddy and one Giyuu was actively trying to suppress, dreamed for a moment of Kyojuro’s voice, telling him he enjoyed his company. Giyu had heard him say this before, but he couldn’t possibly imagine anything else so sweet to hear. Just hearing Kyojuro enjoyed being around him felt like all he’d ever need.  Anything further would be preposterous. 

As they walked Kyojuro seemed to relax. He excitedly told Giyuu where they were headed, the udon shop where he and his brother spent many an afternoon. “You’re going to like Senjuro,” he assured. “He’s like you. Very thoughtful, and so smart! He must get it from our mother, since it’s certainly not me!” He laughed  as bright as the sun; Giyuu found himself staring. “He loves this udon maker, we go all the time! Once we drop him off perhaps we could visit the greenery park near the river. The cherry blossoms are blooming—” 

Kyojuro snapped his mouth shut and Giyuu’s hung open. Giyuu watched as he chuckled nervously, his cheeks beginning to flush a bright pink. “They’re beautiful this time of year, don’t you think?” He added, as if that made it any better. Giyuu stiffly managed a nod of agreement and wondered if Kyojuro could also hear how loudly his heart was thrumming against his chest. 

They came to a row of houses just as the lanterns were beginning to come on, and Kyojuro’s excitement noticeably increased, his pace quickening. “Ah, we’re almost there. I wonder if—” coming around a corner, both of their eyes fell on a figure in the distance, leaning against a fence and kicking a rock around. “There he is!” Kyojuro called excitedly. 

Giyuu was shocked as, upon their approach, the figure came more clearly into view, and he could see that Kyojuro’s brother was his spitting image. He was shorter, his hair pulled fully into a short ponytail, but his eyes were bright orange just like his brother’s, his skin golden tanned, and his hair a shock of bright yellow. Kyojuro grabbed him in a tight hug in greeting, and when he finally released him he still kept a hand on his shoulder as he turned to present him to Giyuu. 

“Senjuro! This is my friend Mr. Tomioka, the Water Hashira.” Kyojuro swept his arm out toward Giyuu, who inclined his head politely but said nothing. Senjuro bowed back. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tomioka.” Senjuro said. Giyuu was surprised at the softness in his voice, the gentleness of his smile. For as much as he may look like his brother, Senjuro was much softer. Though he appeared to be as relentlessly kind, he was not nearly as…intense as his older counterpart. “My brother speaks very highly of you.”

Kyojuro speaks highly of everyone , Giyuu thought, but didn’t say. Though none more than you. Instead of this, Giyuu just stared at the boy, unsure how exactly to phrase the sentiment. 

Kyojuro patted Senjuro’s shoulder once, then turned toward the house. “If you’ll both excuse me for just a moment. I’m going to greet father.” He said the latter part of the sentence to Senjuro only. The boy’s face fell, his thick brows pulling up nervously. Kyojuro’s hand on his shoulder steadied him. “I will be only a moment. I hope you’re hungry!” With that he jogged across the front path and disappeared inside the house, leaving Senjuro and Giyuu waiting out in the front garden. 

Senjuro tugged at his own fingers for just a moment after his brother disappeared inside the house. Giyuu neither missed his nervousness nor mentioned it. Kyojuro didn’t often speak of his father, which from him was about as close to a condemnation as it got. After a moment Senjuro glanced at Giyuu, smiled nervously, and relaxed against the fence. Neither spoke, but Senjuro didn’t seem uncomfortable with the silence. 

His brother had mentioned that Giyuu was a man of few words. Senjuro didn't mind the silence, in fact he welcomed it. Though he didn’t often struggle with what to say, sometimes inexplicably he found himself terrified to actually say it , his heart racing and throat closing as if he were facing a great beast rather than a normal conversation. The anxiety had improved since he was younger, but meeting new people and interacting with large groups could still sink that fear deep into him. 

But so far, Giyuu had pressed for nothing by way of conversation. The man seemed content to watch the lanterns on the street flicker to life in the growing darkness and wait, so Senjuro did the same. It was a long moment before either spoke again. Senjuro eventually turned slightly toward Giyu with a nervous but sincere smile. Giyuu echoed it with an expression that was decidedly not a smile, but not quite a frown either. 

“Kyojuro told me you like to read.” Giyuu said rather abruptly. What he actually wanted to say was Kyojuro said you like to read, I like to read too, that’s something we have in common, what are you reading right now? But the first bit was all Giyuu managed before his mouth clamped shut again. 

“Yes.” Senjuro responded with a nod. “Me and my brother both. You probably know he learned all of the flame breathing forms simply by reading the histories of the Flame Hashira?” Giyuu nodded. “My brother gave me the book to study too, but…” Senjuro trailed off. 

It didn’t take someone as skilled as Kyojuro in conversation to recognize this must be a difficult topic for Senjuro. Giyuu swallowed and attempted to divert the attention to himself instead, hoping it would make Senjuro feel more comfortable. “My sister once gave me a book on astronomy.” He said. To someone not following his train of thought it must’ve seemed like a non-sequitur. But Senjuro understood and smiled, relieved that the pressure to continue his own story had been removed. 

“Do you like astronomy?” Giyu nodded once without looking at him and hoped he would not ask any further detail about his sister. It wasn’t a topic he often brought up in casual conversation—not that he found himself in casual conversation on a frequent basis—and nearly never mentioned her to someone he hardly knew. Senjuro seemed to sense this, if his next words were any indication. “Me too. I bet you know a lot more than me though. I’ve been studying botany lately.”

Giyuu nodded once more. They fell into silence again, each grateful for the other for their skillful avoidance of difficult topics. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Kyojuro emerged from the house, his face crestfallen and serious. As soon as his eyes fell upon Giyuu and his brother he wiped the serious look off of his face and replaced it with an easy smile. 

“Well then! Shall we?” Kyojuro said enthusiastically. He put a hand on Senjuro’s shoulder and steered him around, placing the boy between the two of them as they made their way to the apparently legendary udon shop. 

Now with his brother at his side Kyojuro’s nervousness seemed to melt away entirely. He carried the three of them easily through conversation, sometimes idle and sometimes delving a little deeper, testing the waters, pushing the two introverts’ social thresholds when he needed to and easing off when they needed him to. 

Once they arrived at the shop Kyojuro busied himself reading the menu aloud in great detail despite having dined there enough times to have it memorized. Senjuro and Giyuu were left side by side in silence once again. 

“I’m glad you’re well enough to join us, Mr. Tomioka.” Senjuro mentioned in that sweet, quiet way of his. Giyuu nodded. “My brother told me what happened to you. I’m sorry you were injured.” Giyuu said nothing. What else has Kyojuro told him? Has he told him the something ? 

Senjuro swallowed nervously, feeling that silly fear of speaking rising again and trying to ignore it. “Brother was really worried about you.” He finally managed. 

That drew Giyuu’s eye. He glanced down at Senjuro, who smiled up at him sincerely, if a little nervously. Giyuu wanted to ask what made him think that, what Kyojuro had said to him, in fact the question burned in his throat, but as usual he was forced into silence by the racing of his frightened and thrilled heart. Perceptive as ever while Kyojuro continued to ramble the menu aloud, Senjuro turned away to watch the chefs cooking. 

“He cares a lot about you, you know.” Senjuro said. Giyuu said nothing and tried to focus very hard on preventing his face from visibly flushing pink. It proved an impossible task, however, because at that moment Kyojuro abruptly whipped around to face them, as if having only just at that moment recalled they were there. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t quite catch that!” He said to Senjuro. Giyuu felt faint. 

“Sorry, brother.” Senjuro said lightly, but immediately, before Giyuu could even think to respond. “I just asked Mr. Tomioka if he liked his ramen spicy.”

Giyuu glanced at Senjuro in relieved disbelief, though his face remained completely neutral. Kyojuro seemed none the wiser, nodding sagely. “Ah! Yes! Very important to consider. Keep in mind this place really means it when they say extra spicy !” He laughed heartily and stepped forward, since they were the next in line.

“Hey, Rengoku.” The man behind the counter said with a grin. “Your usual again? Miso for you and an extra spicy Tonkotsu for the big guy?” He nodded to indicate Senjuro, who nodded with a smile. 

“Yes, please!” Senjuro said. 

Kyojuro hummed and turned to glance at Giyuu with an eyebrow raised. 

“Surprise me.” Giyuu said. 

Kyojuro’s face lit up in excitement and placed an order for each of them, paying before Giyuu could protest. They sat at a corner table to wait for their food and Kyojuro excitedly told him in great detail the history of the udon shop (he’d saved the owner from a demon several years ago and had been given free food for for life in thanks, though he always insisted on paying anyway). Senjuro smiled along and did not interject, except when he prompted his brother to tell the story of what happened when he tried the extra spicy ramen.

“I couldn’t taste anything for a week!” Rengoku cried in his laughter. Giyuu smiled and even chuckled a little at the story. When the cook called out Rengoku’s name for the order, they both stood to bring their bowls back to the table. 

“Are you enjoying yourself my friend?” Rengoku asked once they were alone. Giyuu nodded. “Are you sore?” His eyes wandered down toward Giyuu’s chest, the bandages he knew to be beneath his uniform shirt. 

“I’m fine.” Giyuu confirmed. He grabbed two of the plates and turned back toward the table. “I like Senjuro.” He continued. Kyojuro’s smile was beaming as bright as the sun. 

“Ah I knew you would! I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself, and I’m so glad you are here with me.” He said. “Senjuro likes you too, I can tell! But who wouldn’t?” Kyojuro was slightly behind him on their way back to the table, so as he laughed to himself he didn’t notice Giyuu’s searing red cheeks. Nor did Giyuu notice Kyojuro wincing a little after he’d said it, realizing only after it had come out just how forward it had sounded. 

The ramen gave Senjuro a chance to talk, now that Kyojuro’s mouth was occupied with slurping his noodles. He continued about his botany book, his failed attempt at keeping a bonsai tree, his plans to try again. Of course Giyuu had noticed that Senjuro hadn’t mentioned any kind of sword training, which he would have expected given that Kyojuro had off-handedly mentioned training his younger brother in flame breathing. He didn’t bring it up, or even give it much thought. It was probably for the best; Senjuro really didn’t seem the sword-wielding type anyway, and Kyojuro beamed with pride all the same while Senjuro quietly told Giyuu about his various non-sword studies. 

They both walked Senjuro home, the two Rengoku brothers easily filling the silence with good-natured bantering while Giyuu listened with sincere interest. He noticed once again the way both of their faces fell as they neared the Rengoku home, but didn’t point it out. 

Senjuro bowed deeply to the both of them once they reached his home, his smile having become a little sad. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tomioka,” he said. “Thank you for accompanying my brother and I, even while you’re recovering.”

Giyuu bowed back silently. He was already planning a trip to Urokodaki’s to pick up some of his old books to bring for Senjuro, mentally picking through the titles to choose one or ten the boy might like. Kyojuro put his hand down on his brother’s shoulder once he stood. 

“I’ll walk you inside.” He offered. Then, to Giyuu: “If you don’t mind just one moment my friend?” Giyuu nodded, and Kyojuro lead his brother into their home’s front garden. 

“How is he today?” Kyojuro asked in a low voice, once they were out of Giyuu’s earshot. His eyes were on the front door of their home. Senjuro nodded slowly. 

“You’ve already probably talked to him more than I have today, just in greeting him.” Senjuro responded. He avoided his father as much as possible, but still wasn’t exactly thrilled to be back home with him. So he changed the subject to take his mind off of it. “I like Mr. Tomioka.”

Kyojuro beamed. “I’m glad to hear it! He likes you!”

Senjuro beamed back a little sheepishly. “He likes you , too.” he giggled at the way Kyojuro’s cheeks lit up bright red.

“Ah! What makes you say that?” In his nervousness Kyojuro’s voice was easily loud enough to be heard by Giyuu, who wasn’t really standing that far off, but Senjuro didn’t mention it. “Did he say something to you?” He realized as soon as he’d asked it just how silly of a question it was, but he was dying to know the answer anyway.

“He didn’t really have to.” Senjuro said. Kyojuro laughed in acknowledgement while Senjuro continued.“You’re not taking him home yet, are you?” He asked. 

“No, I thought we’d take a walk by the river! It’s lovely this time of year…” He trailed off and his face burned as Senjuro elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “Wish me luck! I fear I’m going to need it…”

Senjuro hovered in the doorway, looking around l Kyojuro at Giyuu, whose face seemingly hadn’t faded back to its normal color from his embarrassed blush all night. “I don’t think you will.”

Chapter Text

Kyojuro joined Giyuu at the gates again, smiling broadly, his enthusiasm apparently unshakable. Giyuu watched his face closely, trying and failing to read his mind, transfixed by the red blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

“Well!” Kyojuro announced, then failed to elaborate. Giyuu waited and wondered what else Kyojuro could possibly have in store for them. Dinner with Senjuro was the most fun Giyuu had had in…he couldn’t even remember how long. Watching the Rengoku brothers’ quick but sweet banter filled him with a certain fondness he hadn’t felt in too long and had sorely missed. Kyojuro could take him wordlessly back to the mansion right now and Giyuu still would have had the best night he’d had in a very long time. 

“I believe I promised you some cherry blossoms!” Kyojuro finally continued. Giyuu nodded weakly and fell in step with him. 

For the first time in a long time, Kyojuro became very aware of his own breathing while he led Giyuu down the familiar path to the town center Sakura grove. He recalled Mitsuri’s advice and tried to gather his courage, glancing briefly at Giyuu as he walked silently beside him. Now that the sun had fully set and the moon bathed the city in its bluish light, Giyuu’s ivory skin seemed to glow, his hair shimmered with gentle iridescence. Giyuu must’ve noticed Kyojuro looking at him, because he abruptly turned slightly to meet his eyes, and for a moment Kyojuro forgot how to breathe altogether. God he could get lost in those eyes. 

Giyuu paled beneath Kyojuro’s gaze and quickly snapped his head back forward. What was he looking at? Do I have something on my face from dinner? He slowly reached up and brushed his fingers against his own lips, trying to find any trace of his udon. Oh god, can he hear how loud my heartbeat is, too? He couldn’t bear to look at Kyojuro so instead he looked up at the looming cherry blossom trees ahead of them. 

“Oh,” he sighed aloud, nearly involuntarily. In the light breeze the pale pink petals from the trees were raining down like thick snow, falling into the moonlit creek that wandered through the park. Beside him he felt Kyojuro stop. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kyojuro’s voice was about as soft as it ever was. Giyuu didn’t need to turn to feel Kyojuro looking at him; his gaze burned against Giyuu’s already burning-hot face and Giyuu wondered seriously for a moment if he might get a sunburn just from the proximity. He mustered whatever meager focus he had left and forced himself to nod. Kyojuro started walking again, a little slower this time, close enough that with each step his shoulder very lightly brushed Giyuu’s. With each touch Giyuu was certain his heart would give out at any moment. 

The park was quiet and empty at the late hour, but Kyojuro kept walking until they found a secluded wooden bridge framed in cherry trees with the small river passing beneath it. Giyuu stopped beside him and looked away from him, watching the river move beneath them. His posture was neutral but tense, like he was forcing himself to remain perfectly still. Kyojuro’s eyes kept wandering to his pale hands and slender fingers, curled into fists around the hem of his own haori sleeves. “Would you like to sit?” Kyojuro offered, already plopping himself down on the edge of the bridge and letting his feet swing over the edge. He gently patted the wooden space beside him. “You look a bit pale, my friend.”

Giyuu could have swooned merely at being called his friend, but managed, just barely, not to. Rather, he nodded once again, tightly, and let himself be seated beside Kyojuro. He was very careful not to get too close to him lest their knees brush. 

For as tense as Giyuu was becoming, almost as if in response, Kyojuro seemed to relax into the breeze of the evening. He sighed softly and Giyuu chanced a glance at him, nearly smiling when he found Kyojuro’s eyes closed, his head tipped back to enjoy the breeze.

“Sometimes I’d come here to study.” Kyojuro said. He abruptly opened his eyes and looked at Giyuu. “It’s a wonderful place to be alone, but I like it better with your company!” 

Giyuu was sure he was going to tip over sideways and fall into the river. Kyojuro’s golden eyes seemed to glow in the low light. If it were anybody but Kyojuro, Giyuu wouldn’t have believed such a genuine, warm gaze could really be for him. Why someone like Kyojuro would look at him this way was beyond him, so far beyond him that as it was happening Giyuu busied himself attempting to explain it away. He’s friends with everyone, he’s just being polite. He looks at everyone like this. I’m sure he stares at everyone’s lips like this. Giyuu straightened at the realization— he’s not looking me in the eye, he’s looking at my lips ! 

While he panicked at the thought, Kyojuro also looked down at the water and clasped his hands together in his lap, bracing them against his racing heart. He knew he was making Giyuu uncomfortable—he’d have to be blind not to notice—and as guilty as it made him feel, he couldn’t turn back now. He’d nearly seen a world where he could never sit beside his friend, never watch the cherry blossoms fall and collect in his raven hair, never stretch his hand slow across the wooden bridge to stop just shy of Giyuu’s. 

Kyojuro swallowed. He still wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, just how to say it, where to even begin. Typically if he just started strong he’d figure out what he was talking about somewhere along the way. Giyuu’s cheeks were as delicate pink as the petals in his hair, his ears even brighter in blush. It’s not something I can say, it’s something I need to do. Kyojuro took a deep breath and pushed his hand a little farther, his eyes on the koi that circled in the water beneath their feet. 

Giyuu felt Kyojuro’s fingers hit the side of his hand and jolted as if he’d been shocked. The silent treatment wasn’t nearly as fun when he was its victim rather than the one who wielded it. That something Kyojuro was meaning to tell him loomed over his head like he was leaning on a blade. He prayed Kyojuro would just cut him cleanly through already so his restless heart could go back to a normal pace. In his desperation to force Kyojuro to spit out whatever it is he needed to say, or else to simply divert his attention from his lips, Giyuu steeled himself and employed a tactic he very seldom used: speaking first. 

“K-Kyojuro—” was all he managed at first. “Thank you for inviting me out.” Stunned into silence, Kyojuro just looked at him, breathless. He didn’t think Giyuu was aware of it, but when he braced himself to speak his hand had tightened, too, inadvertently entwining their littlest fingers together. “It was nice.” Giyuu eventually concluded. 

Kyojuro smiled at him. Giyuu’s heart leapt up into his throat as he realized how close they were sitting now, his knee brushing against Kyojuro’s and— oh god my hand is practically on top of his! “Thank you for coming!” Kyojuro said. Giyuu’s ocean-colored eyes were wide, nearly frightened as Kyojuro leaned a little toward him. With the rate his heart was beating, Kyojuro wouldn’t be surprised if he looked frightened, too. Giyuu’s mouth hung open; he felt his face burning even hotter at Kyojuro’s approach. 

“Senjuro is. G-good company.” Giyuu said weakly. Please, Kyojuro, just spit it out before my heart gives out! He briefly considered moving his hand from atop Kyojuro’s but didn’t want to give the impression, however true it was, that he was thinking particularly hard about Kyojuro’s hand beneath his. 

“I’m glad you think so.” Kyojuro said. “My brother is one of the most important people in the world to me.” The words were difficult to force out through his breathlessness at the way Giyuu was looking at him. Is he doing that on purpose? Giyuu blinked his heavy black lashes. That just isn’t fair, how am I supposed to remember my train of thought when he’s looking at me like that? 

Still, Kyojuro managed to summon his courage and raise the hand that wasn’t beneath Giyuu’s to pluck one of the many errant cherry blossom petals from his hair. “You are, too”

Giyuu stared stupidly at him, at his warm hand, the unruly lion’s mane of golden hair, his heavy-lidded eyes, gazing down. Did he just say what I think he just said? I must be hearing things. What was in that udon? I think I might throw up—  

Meanwhile, as if oblivious to what he’d just said, Kyojuro showed the petal to Giyuu and grinned sincerely. “You’re covered in petals, you know.” He said with a chuckle, then laughed a little louder at the blazing scarlet that lit Giyuu’s cheeks. Giyuu pulled his head slightly away, prepared to shake the petals from his hair, but Kyojuro’s hand on his chin stopped him. “No, no, it’s kind of cute.” 

Kyojuro clamped his mouth shut, unable to believe he’d just said that aloud, hopeful that if he shut it quick enough he could suck the words back in. He went about as red as Giyuu was, the blossom petal limply falling from his hand. They stared at each other in shock for a moment before, untrue to form, Giyuu finally reached up and grabbed him by the wrist, so tightly it nearly hurt. 

“Kyojuro.” Was all he said for a moment. For the first time since inviting him out, Kyojuro began to seriously wonder if he’d misread his friend’s body language, misunderstood his minute expressions, completely crossed a line with someone who saw him only as a friend, or worse, a colleague . He held his breath. “Y-you seemed like you wanted to say something. When I first woke up. Wh-what was it?”

The silence that followed stretched into infinity, Giyuu’s hand around Kyojuro’s wrist, Kyojuro’s hand on Giyuu’s chin, tipping it slightly upwards toward him. “Giyuu, I—” He stopped before he even began. His words had proven wildly inadequate thus far, and regardless he doubted he could manage to formulate them with any level of coherence for much longer, not with Giyuu’s face so close to his own, his shaking breath against his cheek. Though Kyojuro didn’t dare move, he knew he could explain what he meant in only one way. He braced himself before he spoke. 

“May I kiss you?” 

Giyuu blinked. “A—eh?"

“May I kiss you?” Kyojuro repeated, as if that helped at all. 

Paralyzed, hypnotized by Kyojuro’s gaze, Giyuu could only stare and wonder if Kyojuro was joking. A joke? Some kind of strange prank? A test? Still he couldn’t deny, with Kyojuro’s fingers against his jaw and throat, that there was only one answer he could manage. 

“Y-yes.”

So Kyojuro did. 

He pulled Giyuu’s face in to close the distance between them, and when Giyuu felt Kyojuro’s lips on his, he was sure he died back when he’d fallen to that demon after all. His hand fell from its grip on Kyojuro’s wrist and he sighed involuntarily, his chest shuddering with emotion, with fear, with joy, with delight so intense it was painful. Kyojuro’s hand slid across his jaw to the back of his neck and held him gently while he brushed his thumb across Giyuu’s cheek. 

Kyojuro kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, for every half-began confession he’d lost his nerve before saying. He kissed him for those miserable few days he thought he was gone. For the terror of thinking he might never be able to, the ecstasy of being able to . If for no other reason, Kyojuro kissed him because he could , because he was there and breathing and gazing at him with those beautiful eyes and flower-dusted hair.

Kyojuro was the first to pull away, and only did so because he could feel that Giyuu was not breathing. It took Giyuu an additional moment to open his eyes and come to, after which he stared at Kyojuro with an expression neither of them could read.

“I’m sorry I talk so much.” Kyojuro said. “I really don’t know how I manage to speak so much yet say so little but—” he still had his hand on Giyuu’s face, still traced his thumb in little circles around his cheek. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you’re alright, that you’re here with me. Because I—well. I’ve wanted to kiss you for quite some time now.” He chuckled nervously at the admission, at how stupid he sounded, hoping Giyuu would find it endearing rather than strange. The blank look on Giyuu’s face was not exactly encouraging. 

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Kyojuro began to backpedal and removed his hand from Giyuu’s face. “That was probably quite forward of me. Um.” He swallowed. “I simply mean that you’re very important to me and…and well, I want you to know how much I care about you, and—” he trailed off because Giyuu was still staring at him and he wasn’t entirely certain he’d begun breathing again. “Ah…Giyuu?”

“Could you—do that again?” Giyuu finally said. Kyojuro stuttered for a moment in surprise, but managed to get his wits about him even despite his stomach doing flips. 

“You want me to kiss you again?” he asked as if he didn’t believe it. His lips were beginning to pull into a smile as his hand found Giyuu’s once again and held it gently. Giyuu could summon only a weak nod, but Kyojuro obliged him all the same. 

This time Giyuu seemed to have recovered from his shock and chanced a hand on Kyojuro’s arm, holding tight to his uniform sleeve in an almost boyish way, amazed that he wasn’t just a mirage, that he wasn’t dreaming, that he was really actually kissing Kyojuro! He peeked an eye open after a moment just to be extra certain he wasn’t dreaming. All that time wondering what Kyojuro had wanted to tell him, and Giyuu had never once considered it would be this.

When they pulled away again--once again because Giyuu had forgotten to breathe--this time it was Giyuu who spoke first. “I…care about you, too.” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. Kyojuro smiled broadly and curled a strand of Giyuu’s dark hair between his fingers. 

“Took me long enough, hm?” he joked mildly. Giyuu finally smiled, and though it was a small one it knocked the breath out of Kyojuro all the same. 

“I should die more often.” Giyuu deadpanned back, so weakly it took a moment for Kyojuro to even realize he was joking. 

“You should not!” He proclaimed, frowning deeply to overexaggerate his seriousness. Giyuu blinked demurely at him until he softened into a smile. “Going forward, if you’d like me to kiss you, you need only ask.” 

Easier said than done; at the moment Giyuu wasn’t certain the language center of his brain was still functioning, but he managed a nod all the same. “I’ll…keep that in mind.” 

Though he would have been happy to sit beside Giyuu all night, the moon was rising higher and higher, and both were aware that the hour was late. Both were silent when Kyojuro finally stood and offered his hand to Giyuu to help him up, as well, noting his wince as he stood.

“I suppose I should get you home before curfew, or Shinobu might have my head.” Kyojuro teased while they walked. Their shoulders bumped together; Giyuu chanced winding his pinky around Kyojuro’s, only to stop breathing entirely when Kyojuro responded by taking his hand. They slowed once the gates to the Master’s Mansion came into view, and eventually stopped, Giyuu leaning against the wall and Kyojuro leaning down toward him, for once happy to just stare in silence at Giyuu’s moonlit face and cherry-blossom lips. For the second time that evening, Giyuu spoke first. 

“So…what now?”

Kyojuro grinned. “I believe it’s traditional to kiss you goodnight.” 

“N-no, I mean--” Giyuu stopped himself. “W-well, yes. That’s…yes.” Kyojuro chuckled at his nervousness, remembering his own. “I mean…what happens now? With…us.” He wasn’t really sure what to say on the best of days, and it wasn’t like he was an expert at this. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d kissed someone, and almost all of them in the last two hours.

“Ah.” Kyojuro nodded. Understanding immediately, as he always did. He hummed in thought while Giyuu continued. 

“We…should probably not share this with the other Hashira…” He ventured.

“Oh, definitely not.” Kyojuro agreed. Even thinking of what Tengen or Sanemi or even Shinobu would have to say made his face burn. “Although…to be honest, Mitsuri already knows.” 

Giyuu smiled slightly, unsurprised. “Shinobu had her suspicions, too.” Kyojuro laughed. 

“Fair enough. But beyond them.” he nodded and Giyuu did too. “It’ll be our secret.” He winked at him then, and Giyuu once again nearly swooned. “And…as for what happens next…” In the dim lamplight of the gates, Giyuu reached for Kyojuro’s hand while he spoke, making him lose his train of thought. He watched Giyuu’s pale fingers running over the back of his hand, eventually taking it in his, holding it to his chest. Kyojuro swallowed when Giyuu looked up at him. 

Next . He couldn’t help but think once again of the world he’d briefly witnessed in which there was no next . Without Giyuu there was no tomorrow, no next time, no thrill of his racing heart when Giyuu took his hand or looked up at him or, god , so much as existed near him.

“ Next time… ” He brought Giyuu’s hand to his lips. “I hope you know some good places to eat, because you’re picking next.” Next time . Giyuu’s hand tightened around Kyojuro’s and his smile returned, wider, brighter than it had been in a long time. Kyojuro kissed his hand, then opened his eyes, giving him a serious look. “And no more dying!”

Giyuu chuckled and was already mentally running through every place he’d ever been to eat or gotten food in his entire life to prepare for next time , whenever that was. It didn’t matter when, or where, really. He’d be happy to just stand here forever and stare at Kyojuro’s burning golden eyes for the rest of all time. “No more dying,” He agreed. “But only if you kiss me goodnight.” 

Kyojuro laughed too loudly but Giyuu allowed himself not to care. “Deal.”

X

EPILOGUE

The sun was bright but the air was mild the next morning as Giyuu walked the gardens on his way to the butterfly mansion to continue his rehabilitation. His face was neutral and level, finally pale white again once the blush that had become ever-present in Kyojuro’s company had faded, but his thoughts were on Kyojuro nonetheless. 

Kyojuro was also walking through the gardens, though headed the opposite way, sword on his belt and ready as he headed to his next mission. 

“Morning, Tomioka.” Kyojuro said in his typically jovial tone, as if he hadn’t, just hours prior, been pressing Giyuu’s fingers to his lips and plucking cherry blossoms from his hair. Giyuu simply inclined his head silently and was grateful to have only drawn Kyojuro’s eye, and none else. 

Unfortunately for them, Tengen was sharpening his cleavers several meters away, and had looked up as the two passed each other. Giyuu stopped dead--and nearly tripped-- when he heard him call out: 

“Shinazugawa! You owe me five thousand yen!”

Sanemi, who was readying his own sword a few meters off, looked up first at Tengen. “Huh?” his eyes shortly after fell on Kyojuro, then Giyuu, and he groaned. “Ugh, no way.” 

Giyuu went red and hot as a burning kettle while Kyojuro sucked in a breath and puffed his chest. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean!” he tried.

From several dozen meters off, the sound of Mitsuri’s sword clashing against Obanai’s ceased and was replaced by her shrill shouting. “Oh my god! You two!” She left Obanai in the dust in her sprint toward them.

“What?” he glanced at Giyuu and Kyojuro and, like Sanemi, understood within seconds. “Oh.”

Tengen was laughing heartily as Mitsuri practically slammed into Giyuu, spinning him around and continuing to scream. “Oh I’m so happy for you you’ll have to tell me everything! Who was it that made the first move? What did you say? Oh I bet you were so surprised!” He blinked at her, then briefly at Kyojuro, then gently but firmly took her by the wrist to detach her from his haori sleeves.

“Mitsuri, you must be mistaken!” Kyojuro said quickly, trying to spare Giyuu some embarrassment, and was promptly ignored. 

Sanemi, arms crossed, rolled his eyes. “Damn it. You’d think a glutton like him would have better taste.” 

“I’m glad.” Obanai, who had joined the crowd, said. “Their romantic tension was starting to make me nauseous.” 

“Are you kidding? They’re going to be even worse now.”

“Sanemi! Don’t be mean!” Mitsuri chided playfully. Giyuu, still bright red, crossed his arms and moved his eyes to her, who wasted no time in grabbing him by the arms once more. “I didn’t tell, I swear!” she said. “I would never!”

“She didn’t have to!” Tengen put a hand on his hip. “We all have eyes, you know. Nice work, Giyuu. Didn’t think you had it in ya.” 

Red with embarrassment himself, but mostly worried for Giyuu’s dignity, Kyojuro held up his hands. “Really, I think you’re all mistaken—”

“ I think you’re all ridiculous.” Giyuu said. He said nothing more as he turned from the crowd and continued walking in the direction he’d come, past Kyojuro once again. Mitsuri began to chide the others for teasing so much and Kyojuro turned slightly to make eye contact with Giyuu in the last moments before he passed him fully, worried he’d just made himself more trouble than he was worth. 

He grinned to find that Giyuu was smiling ever so slightly, small enough that only Kyojuro would notice. 

They could all make fun of him all they wanted. They weren’t the ones who got to kiss Kyojuro goodnight, after all.