Work Text:
“—bito.”
“Sa…to...”
“Sabito!”
His eyes snap open as he comes to, immediately met by a certain raven-haired boy with a rounded face, highlighted by soft features and a rose-colored tint to his cheeks. Dark red droplets trickle down his forehead and one of his eyes are swollen, tinted an ugly shade of purple, and lined by dried blood. But the undamaged eye peers down at Sabito, flecks of silvery light dancing within deep blue and lined by thick lashes. It holds a childish naivety and timidity Sabito is all too familiar with.
But oh god , he’s missed those eyes. Eight years of searching for that same light in Giyuu’s eyes has felt more like an eternity and now that he’s been given this privilege, he wants nothing more than to pull the other in close, tenderly stroke the back of his head, and reprimand him for how much of a damn idiot he later becomes.
Sabito knows he can’t undo his death—something about it being immoral and against the laws of time travel—but he can still give justice to the words left unspoken the first time. The remainder of this day is all he has. He can’t let this opportunity slip out of his grasp.
“Sabito?” the male calls for the umpteenth time, though Sabito doesn’t mind it whatsoever. It’s been too long since he’s last heard his name slip off the other’s tongue in a voice that isn’t filled to the brim with pitiful remorse. “Oi! Are you dead?!” Giyuu exclaims louder and more urgently this time, lightly slapping both of Sabito’s cheeks in an effort to summon a response.
“Relax,” Sabito finally answers after he’s finished scoping out Giyuu’s stupidly mesmerizing features and stashing the memory away in a compartment inside his heart. He hears a small huff of relief in return, to which Sabito fights back laughter. It’s always been like Giyuu to worry and overthink over trivial matters; that aspect of him never quite dissipated. Another pang of nostalgia and longing wells in his throat, and Sabito forces it back down. Get a hold of yourself, you’re a man .
“How can I when you just collapsed like that? Hmph, you didn’t really expect me to carry us through this thing while you sleep , did you?” Giyuu quips, the corners of his mouth tugged upwards in an almost challenging grin. His demeanor has shifted considerably fast. Normally, Sabito would retort with an equally witty remark and they’d probably fight it out (Sabito won more times than not), but he suddenly can’t find the will to argue. Not when his best friend is mere inches away from him, finally tangible to his touch. Not when he’s been granted this life again, full flesh and bones, even if only for a day. Even if it means reliving death, he so naturally needs to talk to and hold Giyuu one more time, just as the universe is infinite and the world continues to revolve.
So Sabito can only muster up a scoff at the irony in Giyuu’s statement, before a slightly sad smile takes over his lips. “Stupid Giyuu, I’m not that weak.” He pauses and adds on a little more seriously, “But theoretically speaking, you are capable of doing so, you know that?” Well aware Giyuu has no way of reading into these ambiguous words, Sabito can only gaze at him fixedly. He so badly wants the boy to understand his worth. Confidence is a grey area twenty-one year old Giyuu still needs much work in.
True to expectations, Giyuu throws him a dubious look, knitting his brows together and picking at the scabs around his eye. “What? I’m not...I’ve been in and out this whole time. I had to rely on you to…” His voice trails off before Sabito can smack him for falling into another bout of self-doubt, and he quickly shakes his head. “Did you hit your head or something?” He instantly pulls Sabito’s head onto his lap and plants his hands around it, leaning in as if to check for any irregularities. With Giyuu’s touch and their close proximity, Sabito can’t even protest. If given the choice, he’d happily live out the rest of his life—in his case, this last day—lazing on Giyuu’s lap, falling asleep one last time to the calloused but gentle touch of his fingertips, enraptured in warmth and security.
Maybe in another life the universe treats them kinder. They’d both make it through the Final Selection, become dual water pillars, and slay demons together. Giyuu’s eyes would scintillate like a million stars on a midnight canvas when he sees Sabito, and likewise, Sabito would spare him his most intimate smiles.
Maybe in an alternate universe, a version of him would end up with a version of Giyuu.
But reality is insufferably cruel, and Sabito is wary of overindulgence. Such dreams can never come true when his time has already passed. He has no other choice but to walk the path of justice.
“No injuries,” Giyuu’s voice pipes up again, willing Sabito out of his thoughts.
“Duh,” Sabito snickers, though he makes no effort to lift his head. He’s acting undeniably selfish when there are still people to save, but he swears to only bask in the comfort for a while longer. After 8 years, 96 months, 2,920 days, 70,080 hours, and an entire lifetime to come without Giyuu, Sabito wants to believe he deserves this simple, stolen moment.
“Then why have you been staring at me weirdly since you woke up? You’ve hardly blinked. The demon paralyzed your eyes?” Giyuu arches a brow, his voice genuine and dead serious. He asks too many questions, and his utter denseness never fails to amaze Sabito, even now.
Sabito ponders in silence for a brief second, his eyes still never straying. “Hm, you could say that...I guess I can never take my eyes off you again!” He offers a toothy grin that radiates youthful charisma, though the tug on his lips feels almost foreign to him. It’s been so long since he’s had a reason to smile this wide, since he’s had so much life .
This earns a warm pink flush from Giyuu, who glances down at him with befuddled eyes. When Sabito doesn’t tag on his usual “just kidding” or give a laugh that indicates he’s joking (Really, he never was joking. He was always just too much of a coward to properly express his feelings), Giyuu averts his gaze as a sheepish look crosses his face. “What the hell...maybe you really did hit your head.”
Sabito wants to chide him for ever doubting his own breathtaking beauty, but dismisses the urge when he again takes note of the lacerations on Giyuu’s forehead, evidently reopened one too many times. It leaves an unseemly trail of blood meandering down his face. Lifting a hand, he gently wipes at the blood, staining the sleeve of his otherwise clean haori an unfitting shade of crimson. The other doesn’t so much as flinch, ever the apathetic one, but Sabito is well aware it’s part of the injury that immobilized him for much of the Final Selection. Unfortunately he hadn’t been there to prevent it. “Does it hurt?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.
“No,” Giyuu replies much too quickly, shaking his head. “It would’ve been much worse if you hadn’t come earlier...thanks, by the way.”
By that statement, Sabito figures this is shortly after he saves Giyuu from a demon and subsequently, not long before he departs to fight the Hand Demon. A small wave of relief washes through his system nonetheless, though he’s not sure why. He already knows that Giyuu and the others successfully make it through the Final Selection. He already knows exactly how everything plays out. He knows Giyuu will be okay, no matter the costs. And because Sabito is a hypocritical, self-sacrificial fool, he doesn’t particularly care about the costs, as long as it ensures everyone else’s safety.
“Half of it was you anyway. No need for thanks,” he replies steadily, still eyeing his semi-confused friend. He can’t really blame him—seldom is Sabito ever this blatantly soft and tender-hearted—but he’s got to make the most of his time somehow.
His comeback doesn’t appear to sway Giyuu however, who gives him the same uneasy expression that Sabito hates. His bottom lip quivers just slightly as he opens his mouth. “But I’m not like you. I haven’t killed a single demon this whole time...I’m just too weak.”
There it is. That signature, perpetually self-deprecating countenance Sabito has grown up with. Post-death, it has only been amplified. Idiot Giyuu . He furrows his brows in a show of exasperation, ready to fall into a lecture, but quickly smooths out his face upon remembering the particular situation. Even though it was genuinely beginning to feel like old times, resorting to his typical short temperament will do no good.
“Why do you want to be like me?” he simply responds, the inquiry partially rhetorical and partially not. “Kill number isn’t the only determinant of strength. I’m too hot-headed and it’ll probably be my end.” He fights biting his tongue when the last bit tumbles out of his mouth, and even Giyuu widens his eyes momentarily. Perhaps a bit too forward. “If I’d nearly gotten my eyeball ripped out and had cuts so deep you could see the tissue underneath, surviving for a whole week without treatment would be laughable . Yet here you are, still breathing.” Still positioned in the other’s lap, he reaches a fist out to meet Giyuu’s chest and touches it firmly. Another surge of gratitude flows through him at the way his hands aren’t mere translucent parts that pass through anyone he reaches out for. Giyuu only continues to stare him down, blinking at irregular rates and heart pounding through his yukata.
“Sometimes just making it to tomorrow is enough, y’know. Especially when everything’s against you,” Sabito continues matter-of-factly, letting an overwhelming sentimental rush overtake him as he recalls all the nights his ghost has sat with Giyuu through his quiet breakdowns, when the “survivor’s guilt” gets the better of him once again and he whimpers pathetic things Sabito wishes he couldn’t hear, but continues living on anyway. In spite of everything, Sabito is proud of him for fighting the hardest battle for eight years and counting.
“ That’s called being strong, idiot. Don’t you forget it.”
Another brief silence passes before Giyuu’s face lightens up and reflective spots of silver sparkle in his irises, growing to swallow the cerulean once more. The subtle smile that plays on his lips holds an honesty that is frankly a purity, its childhood innocence vibrant and free and so robbed from the older Giyuu. In this moment, the sole happiness on his face is so radiant it’s as if all his cuts and bruises cease to exist. Sabito drops his fist when his own heartbeat quickens and his breath hitches at the sight, because the physical contact suddenly feels very invasive.
Shit, I love him .
“I’ll try not to,” Giyuu merely nods, though his contented visage speaks for itself. But he then purses his lips and shakes his head, as if to catch himself on something. “No...Sabito called me strong. I definitely won't forget it.” His smile transitions into a small laugh, chaste in its duration but rare and ethereal nevertheless.
Sabito, admittedly relieved, concludes that children really are easier to persuade. (And that thirteen year old Giyuu isn’t too shabby at flattering. In fact, the present him could learn a lesson or two.)
A beam of sunlight suddenly cascades over Giyuu’s shoulder when he shifts in his spot, to which Sabito has to squint slightly. Woven strands of light diffuse through the trees overhead, conjuring the most brilliant of mosaics, reflecting from each leaf and wisp of cloud. His eyes adjust to the rich golden rays, a telltale sign and reminder of the time of day. While the sunlight gives an amalgamation of vivacious gold, pink, orange hues to the evening, Sabito’s world only seems to dim and desaturate as his time ticks away. Biting his lip to fend away the anxiety threatening his expression, he eventually resorts to slapping his hands over his face. The most beautiful memories are the worst.
Clearly, trauma of dying by a demon’s hand under a moonlit sky in the prime of spring doesn’t exactly dissipate. Infinite what-ifs and what-could’ve-beens still nag at him. The sound of Giyuu’s terrified cries, begging him to wait as Sabito continues trudging away, still haunts his memories. The split second of pain searing through his entire body, taking away every feeling of safety he’s ever had before the world shuts off, still scares him. He’s not keen on reliving such things. Sabito was just thirteen, after all.
But the last thing he wants is for Giyuu to see him stupidly vulnerable like this. Giyuu would probably cry.
What a pain.
“Sabito?” The other boy’s concerned voice penetrates his thoughts, and he feels a finger poke at his hands. “Are you—”
“What’s that song? The one your sister would sing to calm you down?” Sabito interjects before Giyuu can ask if he’s okay, his hands on his face unbudging. Tsutako-san is somewhat of a sensitive topic, especially at a time like this, but Sabito doesn’t think he’ll be able to rest peacefully unless he brings this up.
Giyuu answers with a brow twitch preceding a prolonged hesitation, likely puzzled as to where Sabito is coming from. After an extended silence, he asks in a subdued tone, “The one about the sea?”
“Mm,” Sabito nods in confirmation. “Sing it to me.” An old memory gradually returns to him: a nightmare. Trembling and heedless mumbling. Then, a small palm atop his hand and a gentle, steady tune.
“S-singing, at a time like this? But we’re on the final day...can’t it wait until after?” Giyuu stammers out, the voice of reason in all the wrong times. He does have a point and likewise, Sabito acknowledges his uncharacteristic request. But there is no waiting until after, when the two of them have no after.
Finally removing his hands from his face, he locks eyes with the other and hopes that Giyuu can somehow decipher the yearning in them. “We’re already like this, aren’t we? Giyuu, please —just for a minute.” I want to hear it, just one more time.
Luckily, Giyuu seems to understand the message at least a little, and offers a fleeting look of concern before inhaling a shallow breath and leaning in. Soothing, dulcet tones soon leave his mouth, creating a wordless melody. The hums saunter into his mind, urging Sabito closer to that old memory.
“ When the pine-covered shore ends far away ,” Giyuu starts, his breath sweet and warm in Sabito’s ear. “ White sails of boats can be seen on the sea. ” His singing is no louder than his speaking voice, but unlike his usual flat voice, it rises and swells with an emotion that Sabito can never quite pinpoint. Although, he can picture a younger Giyuu in bed, shaky shoulders and sniffles, while a faceless teenage girl wipes away his tears and lulls him to sleep in serene reassurance.
“ Look at the sea in the daytime .” She sings of the tranquil yet resplendent seaside scenery, of sailing boats and the distant call of seagulls. She reminisces about the fishing nets and crashing waters in the daytime, her voice rolling over hills in harmonious waves. Then in a lighter and smoother voice, she tells a story about a mountain-shaped island, dim fishing lights atop the ocean, the sea breeze in the nighttime. By the end of it, Sabito imagines her voice dies down to a hushed whisper as her baby brother’s tears dry up, the last of them resting on the tip of his eyelashes. She probably gives his hand one more squeeze, making sure he’s asleep before departing, soft melodies floating out of the door with her.
At least, that’s the kind of imagery Sabito perceives with every waver and lilt in Giyuu’s decrescendos, as if he’s trying to suppress whatever sorrows and joys he associates with the tune. In contrast, his crescendos are a slow, rolling build that crashes into Sabito’s soul like a great tide, comparable to the ocean he sings about. Sabito shuts his eyes to better hone in on Giyuu’s reposeful lullaby, sinking deeper into his thoughts and finally transcending into the world he’s desperately trying to grasp.
“Look at the sea in the night...time.” The boy is half mumbling and half humming by this point, following up every other line with a yawn. Sabito finds it a little humorous that he’s almost managed to sing himself to sleep, while Sabito lies there wide awake. Nevertheless, the warmth of Giyuu’s hand never leaves his outstretched, contrastingly clammy one. He clings onto the small voice and heated palm as if it’s the only boundary between reality and the world of his nightmares—his parents, younger siblings, all sucked away from him into a bottomless void as he does nothing but stand by pathetically and let it happen. He never wants to lose anybody so helplessly again, he won’t let it happen.
“Look at the sea in the nighttime,” Giyuu finishes languidly. Sabito’s eyes are shut, but he can feel the other’s worried gaze on him again. He wishes Giyuu would stop looking at him like that all the time; he’s no weakling. He retreats his hand and reels back into himself, though a blanket of tranquility has enveloped him and pacified his prior palpitations.
“Sabi…” Giyuu whispers.
“Sleep, Giyuu.”
“Have you ever seen the ocean?” the other proceeds anyway, a sleepy eagerness prevalent in his tone.
“No,” Sabito mutters flatly but honestly, not particularly in the mood to make small talk. In truth, he’s still a little embarrassed from his panic attack earlier. The fact that Giyuu had to sing a lullaby to soothe him doesn't do much for his very tough, nine-year old ego.
“Oh!” Giyuu hums contentedly in response, the giddiness practically echoing in Sabito’s ears. “Let’s go together then! We used to live by one before I was born. Nee-san always talked about how fresh the salmon was, and how pretty and blue the sea was. She sang about it to me every night...”
Sabito hears Giyuu’s initially chipper voice transition into a melancholy one before it drifts off. He opens his eyes to find a faraway look plastered on Giyuu’s face. It’s illuminated by a glowy sliver of moonlight that seeps into the room, speckling the crook of his nose and slight downwards curve of his lips a milky white. A pang of sympathy and relatedness hits Sabito as he scopes out this expression, too desolate on such an amiable face. Tonight’s a night for missing those whom are long out of their reach, he deduces.
“Someday,” he declares aloud, voice croaky after mumbling for so long. Lavender-grey eyes flick to meet azure irises as Sabito musters up the most resolute look he can to emphasize his seriousness. “After we become twin water pillars, we’ll go together. Then we can fight the ocean and prove who’s really stronger.”
Unexpectedly, Giyuu answers with a soft chortle, pulling his blanket over his mouth to muffle it. Sabito gives him a puzzled look, corners of his mouth turning into a frown. “What?”
“You’re so dumb,” Giyuu snickers beneath the covers, and Sabito can picture his judging grin with solely the twinkle in his eyes. “No matter how strong we get, how can we fight an ocean? It’ll win every time, that’s just something you can’t do.”
Sabito gapes at him for a moment, offended for only a second before scoffing. “Are you saying I can’t do something?” He leaps up from his covers and towards the boy beside him, attacking his sides with tickles. Giyuu lets out a hushed gasp at the surprise assault, flailing his arms in a clumsy attempt at self-defense.
“What’re you doing?!” he whisper-yells accusingly. “Hey, you know I’m not ticklish!” Despite his claims, however, his hands end up clapping over his mouth to dampen his laughs.
Sabito, fully aware of Giyuu’s disappointing unresponsiveness to being tickled, continues anyway, definitely laughing harder than his victim. Sooner or later Urokodaki-san will storm in and chastise the duo for getting in a tickle fight at this ungodly hour, but that’s the last of his concerns. “Hah! Wanna bet?” he snorts without an ounce of mercy. “There’s nothing you can’t do if you’re a man! I’ll fight the ocean and win—just you wait, Giyuu!”
Eventually Giyuu raises his arms in surrender, dark hair messily framing a face that radiates jubilance. “Okay, fine! You win!” he exclaims between breathless giggles, always the first to admit defeat. Thankfully he’s not a sore loser like his counterpart. His lips suddenly bear the semblance of a smile, eyes gleaming in ecstasy. “As long as we can see the ocean together.”
Sabito halts on his attack, meeting the other’s gaze halfway. Giyuu possesses such a steady and constant air about him that always manages to quell Sabito’s intensity—much like how he imagines the sea, and getting lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand.
“Of course,” Sabito huffs, plopping down next to his friend without a care for personal space. He closes his eyes again, feeling the remnants of fatigue finally kicking in. “So don’t go visiting it with anyone else first.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Sabito decides it’s his new dream, and he’s always someone of his word.
His pleasant daydreams primarily consist of Giyuu’s mellow voice, sunshine smiles, and fluffy-as-clouds giggles chiming in his ears.
“ Look at the sea in the nighttime. ”
If this were the afterlife, maybe his soul would actually be able to move on. However, this slice of heaven is only temporary. As he’s come to learn, the most beautiful memories are the worst, cutting his insides as if they were shards of glass, just as all good things come to an end. He’s grown too used to the comfort of Giyuu’s lap when his reminiscing is cut short and a piercing shriek reverberates in his ears.
Sabito bids farewell to the land of his dreams, eyelids fluttering open to greet the night. It has approached impossibly quickly, and he wonders if this is a pitfall to time travel. His heart beats fast and there’s a buzzing in his brain, together making up the embodiment of silent panic. He removes himself from the other’s lap, reaching for the sword and fox mask that have been abandoned on the ground and focusing on the direction of the shout. Giyuu is on alert mode as well, frantically whipping his head every which way. Fresh blood has come seeping out of his wound again, trickling past his increasingly swollen eye and dribbling down his chin in the time Sabito was busy daydreaming. He has to bite back a grimace at the thought of how much blood Giyuu’s lost by now, alongside the pain that he’s battling to maintain consciousness. (And Sabito is the idiot who made him sing through it.)
“Help! Please, h-help!” another cry tears into the night. Not long after, a figure pops out of the bushes beside them, causing Giyuu to jump up in alarm. He sways a little when he gets on his feet, and Sabito places a hand over his shoulder to steady him. There’s no telling how lightheaded he must be; just like the first time, much too weak to face a demon.
A dark-haired boy in a striped haori stumbles before them, slouched over and clutching his stomach. The blood and tears coating his face are a telltale sign of excruciating pain, and even more blood gushes through his yukata from what Sabito assumes to be multiple avulsions. He remembers this boy well. Besides Giyuu’s, it’s the last human face he got to see before death.
“Th-that thing! That—h-he got A-Akio-kun and Yua-san!” the boy stutters over every word, evidently too distraught to form clear sentences. Needless to say, his terror-stricken face expresses enough.
“It got them?” Sabito reiterates in an exponentially more collected voice, though he knows he can very well just skip the questioning and go to the saving.
The boy frantically shakes his head, almost toppling over in the process. Sabito lunges forward to catch him, stabling him by both arms. “N-no, they’re fighting him, b-but badly injured! It’s a damned monster ! N-need help now !” Sabito feels the other’s entire body trembling as he recoils under his grip, bedeviled by sheer horror. The situation is dire, allowing Sabito only a few moments for a farewell. Again.
Damnit . He really thought he’d have more time.
Quickly jerking back to Giyuu, who is frozen in place with fear and anticipation, seeing his face is enough for Sabito’s heart to instantly start crying for what was. On the outside, he fights to maintain his dam of restraint. At the end of the day, he still has to carry out the rest of everything.
“I’m leaving him with you, okay? Keep him alive until tomorrow,” Sabito hurries back to Giyuu, nodding at him affirmatively.
“What? No,” Giyuu protests immediately, voice swallowed up by worry, exactly as Sabito remembers it. “You can’t do it alone, take me with you!”
Impatience still tugs at him this time around as he throws Giyuu a look of disdain. “And leave the poor guy here to die? Giyuu, have you seen yourself ? You won’t be of any help in this state,” he reasons, doing his best to ignore the flash of hurt that crosses Giyuu’s face at the harsh words. He hastily shrugs off his haori, shoving the white fabric into the other’s arms. He knows the remainders of his patterned yukata will be found later. “Use this for both of your wounds. Don’t bleed out.”
Giyuu only continues to gawk at him, eyes flickering between Sabito and his haori. “But, I...you…” he trails off hopelessly, without a valid objection. His eyes are glistening and his bottom lip is trembling again, a forewarning to an oncoming meltdown.
“You’ll just get us both killed,” Sabito states simply, feeling a lump in his own throat at the mere thought of witnessing Giyuu’s tears at a time like this. He gulps it back down and shakes his head, stepping forward to enclose the gap between the two of them. In a lower and softer voice, he mutters, “They need help. I have to go.”
“...You’ll be back?” Giyuu asks after a momentary silence, a desperate sense of hope lining his tone. His hands are shaking, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the haori. “It’s the last night. You’ll be back, right ?” The question hits Sabito like a sharp puncture in the chest, and for the first time, he’s devoid of words.
Giving the honest answer will only wreck the other further, while lying will save Sabito some face but consequently, provide Giyuu with a false security that will still end up destroying him. He realizes that no matter what he decides, the story will always end with his failure, disappointing the ones dear to him, the crumbling of Giyuu’s faultless face when he finds out, and the wracking sounds of his sobs that carry late into each night.
Sabito wishes there was another way, he really does. But he’d selfishly do anything to preserve Giyuu’s happiness, in a heartbeat. To protect his smile for just a moment longer.
Breathing out a small laugh, he drops his sword and lifts a hand to cradle Giyuu’s cheek, luring him closer. Giyuu blinks rapidly, eyes suddenly dripping with fat tears that mingle with the red on his cheeks.
“Sabito…”
“Hey, hey...dummy, what are you crying for?” Sabito sighs, though there’s no bite to his words. He caresses the male’s face, wiping at the downpour of tears with a thumb and watching as they soak the haori in his hands. “All that training wasn’t for nothing. Have a little faith.” Sabito plasters a strained grin over his face, purposely avoiding answering directly in fear that his own dam will spill out after all. His eyes scan over Giyuu’s features one more time, from the dark lashes brimmed heavy with tears, to the red blossoming over his nose, to the tremble of his jaw under Sabito’s touch. He memorizes each imperfection, engraves ocean eyes into his heart so he never has to search for the light in them again.
Raising the fox mask in his other hand, he gently presses it to Giyuu’s face, concealing the hurt underneath. Once it’s situated, he leans in and gently touches his lips to the cool surface, right where the nose is painted. Despite the lack of real, physical contact with Giyuu, the kiss is sweet and soft, comforting in ways that words could never be. Giyuu is silent beneath the mask, unmoving, though the haori soon slips out of his grip as a hand shakily latches onto the droopy sleeve of Sabito’s yukata. The world falls away for just a moment as he welcomes the brief gesture, and Sabito savors the last tender breath they share together.
He knows it’s over. Giyuu has never belonged to him, but at the same time he’s always been Sabito’s—his beacon, his laughter, his life. He’s grateful to have relived this day. He’ll continue longing for the teasing chime of Giyuu’s laughter and his light breathing in Sabito’s ear as he sleeps. So, it’s with a bittersweet type of joy that Sabito lets his dreams shatter.
“I’ll see you later,” he says as he pulls back at the same time Giyuu releases his hand from his sleeve. He offers up one last look of determination, grateful the other’s face remains hidden. “Stay alive, Giyuu.”
Retrieving his sword, he finally turns his back before Giyuu’s wretched begging plagues his mind and spurs tears. Sabito rushes forward, leaving behind only the faint scent of lavender and wisteria.
You were the shyest kid, and yet you came into my life like a blur. You were and still are such a crybaby. I wanted to take care of you and treat you like a younger brother at first. But that was before I realized I loved you in a different way; in the “I want to get married by the ocean when we grow up” kind of way. So thank you, Giyuu. There hasn’t been a day spent together which I wasn’t happy.
Sabito still hasn’t seen the ocean.