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Loneliness followed Giyuu like the moon. No matter how far he walked, it would still be there, hanging over him high above in a vast and empty sky. It's hard for Giyuu to tell whether he chose this loneliness or it chose him. Isolating himself from the other hashira and everyone around him, he only submerged himself deeper into its depths. It took time to embrace the loneliness and later, dispel it.
Giyuu tightens the fists in his lap as he sits during one of the hashira meetings. His thoughts are a litany of you don't belong here, and he begins to feel anxious.
He sits slightly farther away from everyone, but not too far as to attract unwanted comments—mainly from Shinazugawa and Iguro—and listens in as everyone discusses how they are to defeat Muzan.
Since Tanjiro's existence, along with Nezuko's, were made known to the hashira, things began to move quickly from the death of Rengoku, to the increased appearance of upper rank demons, and soon, the disappearance of all demons. After all, it is only a matter of time before Muzan will show his face.
After the meeting concludes, Giyuu gets up to his feet quickly, but before he can make his swift exit, Shinazugawa calls out to him.
"Leaving so soon, Tomioka?" his voice drips with poorly hidden hostility as his eyes widen, the veins in his eyes visible, a stark red against white.
Giyuu distantly wonders if Shinazugawa ever sleeps.
"Yes." Giyuu responds.
Sanemi turns his head, face scrunching in disbelief. "Tsk." His scars shift and move to fit with his expression.
Giyuu wonders if he’ll say more, but he doesn’t wait around to find out as he shuffles out the room. It is one of the rare moments that he doesn’t pick a fight with Giyuu.
Other than Shinazugawa and occasionally, Iguro, no one really questions him. Sometimes he'll be teased for speaking so softly and looking gloomy, but that is the extent of it.
It is Shinazugawa that spits vitriol towards him, often saying that Giyuu thinks he is better than everyone, that he is too good to be around them.
Giyuu stops out into the road that leads to his estate and looks at the distant waxing moon. He doesn’t know why he feels a pang of sadness whenever those words are said to him. He wants to tell him that it is untrue; he doesn’t belong as the water hashira, nor should he have even been alive, but those words can never leave his throat.
He knows Shinazugawa isn't a bad person. He is also someone that has to face and endure the cruelty of demons. All the hashira have faced something similar, and they all have their own stories to tell. That, Giyuu understands.
And, this is something he will take to his grave; he sometimes sees Shinazugawa crouch down towards a wandering stray cat and pet it's fur, his face relaxes as a small, fond smile softens his harsh features.
Shinazugawa isn’t a bad guy. The man himself must have his own demons to battle.
But a small part of Giyuu, a part that he rarely shows, wants to be able to befriend Sanemi.
When Tanjiro made his way into his life, rather forcefully like the sun beating down his neck in the summer, he had no choice but to face his kindness. And truthfully, it makes him happy.
Even his tentative friendship with Shinobu, often filled with banter and teasing is somewhat of a constant in his life.
But the gaping hole in his heart that came from the loss of Sabito never filled.
Sliding the door closed of his home, he stands in the genkan. It is as if all the worries of the day catch up to him, a weight so heavy that Giyuu staggers with it, pressing so hard on his chest and shoulders that he can no longer stand up straight. He puts out his arm to hold himself up against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. It works but all it does is keep the thoughts at bay until one day they finally boil over.
He takes off his haori, folds it, and sets it down so he can collapse onto his futon. He doesn’t bother to take off his uniform, a task too monumental for him.
It eats away at him, the guilt, the aching burden of being alive. Since Tanjiro has begun to use sun breathing, it nags at him terribly since that means there will be no water hashira, and that will mean that he has failed his duty.
There are times that Giyuu never wants to leave his futon. The thought of going about everyday life crushes him. The guilt weighs down on him so much that it begins to be harder and harder to move forward. The only reason that Giyuu can even move now is because of his duty as a demon slayer. He can not let more people down, he will not let there be any more deaths. That is the only thing holding him together, even if it is a mere, thin, thread slowly fraying—it was all he had.
Even though he is a water breather, where his movements flow together without restriction, it feels as though he is trudging through a rushing river in his full uniform, legs struggling under the weight of his body and the water pushing against him. It was almost an impossible task, a battle that Giyuu was losing every day.
Giyuu tosses and turns, thoughts warring in his mind.
Sleep does not come to him easily that night.
--
Tanjiro is relentless.
The boy never barges an inch as he follows him everywhere, talking incessantly. This perplexes Giyuu as he had no clue what to do.
He finally gives in and spills his guilt, his burden, his everything to Tanjiro.
"Don't you want to make use of the gift that Sabito gave you?"
The words shake Giyuu to his very core. Memories he has thought he's forgotten floods through his head. He remembers how Sabito said something similar. Suddenly his cheek aches with a harsh slap from the past.
Even now, his best friend chastises him, unwilling to hear such words spill from Giyuu’s mouth.
And suddenly, it clicks. Everything moves back into place as pieces of him come back together. His resolve grows as he realizes how immature he is.
If Sabito can't be with him, and become the water hashira, then he'll have to carry on himself and keep his memory alive. It's the only thing he could do.
--
The battle was finally over.
There Giyuu sits, along with Sanemi for the last hashira meeting. It is bittersweet. With Muzan finally defeated, his duty as a demon slayer is no longer needed.
He shares a smile with Shinazugawa, the man next to him has an aura of peace and tragedy. They've lost so much. Giyuu lost his arm, and Shinazugawa, his two fingers. Their lives are shortened by the curse of the demon slayer mark. But in the end, it is all worth it as they have fulfilled their duties.
Giyuu is about to leave as Shinazugawa calls out to him. A feeling of deja vu crashes into him, and with it, the dredgings of anxiety follow.
He holds his breath.
"Tomioka." there is a pause as Shinazugawa takes a breath. "What do you say we go out to eat? To celebrate."
A wave of warmth flows through Giyuu. He never thought that Shinazugawa would extend such kindness to him.
It is at that moment he notices that his voice lacks the usual vitriol.
So much has changed between them.
"Tomioka?"
Ah. Giyuu still hasn't said anything. He abruptly turns around to face Shinazugawa, and for a split second, he sees the way his eyebrows are lifted, eyes wide with concern before he schools his expression into something more neutral.
Giyuu smiles. "Yeah, I'd love to."
The closest town is a thirty minute walk, and as they walk side by side, the silence between them is a bit awkward.
Should Giyuu say something? What can he even say? He steals a quick glance at Shinazugawa and sees the man looking out ahead. Usually his face would be twisted with rage, a stormy sea would lurk in his wild expression, but now his countenance was calm as a summer breeze.
The change is perhaps a bit jarring; it seems as if all the fight left Shinazugawa, yet on one hand, maybe it isn't so unusual considering their circumstances.
Maybe he shouldn't say anything and not force a conversation where it's not needed, leaving it for when they actually arrive at the restaurant.
As those thoughts enter his head, they step into a small town, and Shinazugawa leads him to a building that smells of delicious food.
"It's a small place but the food is good." It surprises Giyuu when he hears Shinazugawa's voice, so he only nods.
They walk inside and at this point, Giyuu's mind is filled with thoughts of food, and he had the feeling Shinazugawa feels the same way as he looks around the restaurant, seemingly distracted.
They take a seat and order their food, Giyuu with his usual salmon daikon. After such a battle, nothing can beat eating his favorite comfort food.
They both still haven't said anything, and even when their food arrives, their mouths are too occupied to utter a single word.
Giyuu swears that salmon daikon never tasted better after defeating Muzan. Will all food taste better now?
"Fuck." Sanemi places his chopsticks over his bowl and leans back on his hands. "I feel like I should have savored that. I don't remember the last time I ate at a restaurant since the final battle."
Giyuu wipes off stray rice grains from his mouth and ponders, "Did the food taste better?"
Shinazugawa laughs. "Yeah it actually did even though I've eaten here plenty of times."
"Maybe food tastes better when we're no longer at war." He continues, a distant look on his face.
"Maybe, it does."
They leave the restaurant after that, the sun begins to set, the sky awashed in an array of pinks and oranges.
As they make the trek back to their estates, Shinazugawa breaks the silence.
"Say, Tomioka," he says, his voice gruff, "why were you so distant from us? I always thought it was because you thought you were better than everyone, but since I've had time to think about it from laying in a hospital bed for months, I'm starting to think that's not the case."
Giyuu, never in a million years, thought that Shinazugawa would ever talk about this. It leaves him feeling a little lost and out of his depth. But then he remembers his conversation with Tanjiro during the hashira training, and decides to tell him exactly what he said that day.
Could this also be a step in befriending Shinazugawa?
"I was never meant to be the water hashira," Giyuu begins.
Telling this story again doesn't hurt as much as the first time, but a pang of grief still resonates in his chest. Shinazugawa listens through it all, never interrupting and nodding to show he is listening.
A look of understanding passes through his features.
"Tomioka, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you so harshly."
He must have seen Giyuu's look of bewilderment, so he continues.
"I lost Genya, my little brother. He was never supposed to be a demon slayer. But that little fucker never listened, no matter how harsh I was to him. We both lost our entire family to a demon. I just"— he took a deep, stuttering breath— "I wish we had more time."
Giyuu feels for Shinazugawa, his heart aches for him. There isn't a hashira who hasn't experienced grief at the hand of demons.
"You look good, Tomioka. Something about you feels brighter, so I hope you're no longer carrying such a heavy burden. I should have seen it then, the look in your eyes was often blank, distant. I mistook it for arrogance, but I was wrong."
The words settle deep in his chest, words he never knew he needed to hear, but now that they are spoken out loud, Giyuu feels lighter.
"Thank you, Shinazugawa." Giyuu can only smile under the setting sun.
And Shinaguzawa returns the smile with one of his own.
--
Since Tanjiro spoke to him that one day before the final battle, Giyuu finds that the guilt is not as suffocating as it used to be. It has loosened its grip, giving him room to breath, yet it still lingers, not fully gone.
Giyuu wakes up now in the morning with lighter shoulders, the day not seeming so difficult to tackle.
His sleep comes easier now. His nights are not so restless as they used to be.
However, that doesn't mean he isn't occasionally plagued by nightmares.
Images of his fellow hashira dying often flash before him. In some of his nightmares, wherever he steps, there would be a pool of blood. Glimpses of white before the burn of an excruciating pain.
And Tanjiro, near death, transforms into a demon more powerful than Muzan.
These images never fully leave him, haunting him in the darkest of dreams. They were the worst right after the battle, when Giyuu was recuperating in the butterfly estate, sweating and shouting in his sleep.
As time passes, the nightmares lessen in frequency.
Giyuu tries to not let this grief have its hold over him, Tanjiro's words still echoing in his head.
He won't waste this one chance he has at life.
The chance his sister, Sabito, and so many of his friends have given for him.
--
It is now the second time they go out to eat. Shinazugawa runs into him as he is leaving the butterfly estate to check on Tanjiro's condition. He's had a steady flow of visitors since he first woke up.
He asks him if he is doing anything and if they can go out to eat again. Giyuu can only agree.
This behavior is so unusual to Giyuu, but a part of him enjoys it. He enjoys the time spent with the other man.
It is frustrating to deal with the loss of a limb and fingers. Even though Shinazugawa had gotten better at using chopsticks with his left hand, every time he fumbles, he growls in frustration. Sometimes he will reach with his right hand only to realize that he can't , fist tightening with grief.
Giyuu can relate as he still feels phantom pain in his left arm. He would try to reach for an object only to find out that he had no hand to grab it with. It takes time to adjust and accept. It is trial and error, to find what works for them and what doesn't. But slowly, they make progress.
After they eat that day, they are about to go their separate ways to their own estates. Shinazugawa tugs on Giyuu’s haori when he turns to say goodbye.
"Tomioka, call me Sanemi from now on."
Giyuu's heart stops in his chest at the words.
"Sanemi." He tries out, the words foreign in his mouth. There is a flutter in his chest and Giyuu finds that he likes it.
He turns around to face Sanemi, and is surprised to find a light brush sitting high on his cheeks.
It is a good look on him.
Now in the sunlight, he sees that Sanemi, too, looks brighter. His eyes are not as bloodshot, and his mouth usually twisted in a permanent frown softens to a smile. His numerous scars contrast against his pale skin, and Giyuu finds it beautiful.
"Sanemi, call me Giyuu."
Sanemi only stiffly nods, and Giyuu briefly wonders if he is mad, that maybe it is a mistake, but those thoughts are brushed aside as he sees the corners of his mouth pull up to a soft smile.
"See you, Giyuu." And with that, he turns around and makes his way to his own estate.
Giyuu feels light, lighter than he's ever been.
Another memory, almost forgotten, slips through the cracks in his mind.
It was right after he sparred with Sanemi at the wind estate and his conversation with Tanjiro. They discussed how he would befriend Sanemi and how he could use his favorite dessert, ohagi, to do so.
An idea comes to his head just then as he recalls the conversation.
And with that, he makes for the butterfly house, going through with a promise he made to himself.
Aoi is setting out laundry, folding bed sheets that have already dried to make room on the clothesline. She pauses in her folding when she hears Giyuu approach her.
"Aoi, could you help me with something?"
She raises a brow, immediately suspicious but saying nothing, already a good sign.
"Do you know how to make ohagi?"
She sputters from where she is standing, confused at the question.
"Yes, I do. Why do you ask? Do you need some?"
"Yes, I want to give some to Sanemi. I know he likes them."
Her face softens at his explanation. "Okay, let me finish with the laundry, and then I'll teach you how to make them. I think it'll mean more if you do them yourself."
She winks before turning back around to resume her task, leaving a very confused Giyuu behind.
After she is finished, she leads him to the kitchen, rummaging around for the ingredients, pulling out red beans and glutinous rice, and sets about preparing everything while explaining to Giyuu what she's doing.
Giyuu's first few tries at molding the ohagi are poor at best, but Aoi is patient, and he is determined.
Laid out before him are decent looking ohagi. Aoi pats his back, a look of pride on her face. Giyuu beams.
They eat some of their trial ohagi in celebration, Giyuu is surprised by how delicious they are. The few left over are eaten by a very eager Inosuke who happened to be passing by.
And by passing by, he meant that Inosuke would lurk around the estate after visiting Tanjiro since Aoi would sometimes leave extra food out for him.
They carefully wrap up the ohagi in a bento and Aoi wishes him well as he leaves the estate.
With that, holding on to the bento carefully, Giyuu makes his way to Sanemi's estate while the ohagi is fresh.
Anxiety churns in his stomach as he walks down the path, mind wandering to Sanemi's possible reactions to his present. Giyuu really hopes he will like it, and something tells him he won't be mad, yet the small, annoying voice in his head likes to tell him otherwise.
He makes it to the entrance to Sanemi's estate, taking a deep breath, he psyches himself up before crossing the threshold.
Giyuu doesn't have to look for long, easily spotting Sanemi laying against a beam of the engawa, polishing his katana.
Even though they've left their lives as demon slayers, they still took care of remnants of the past. The precious swords crafted by artisans are to not go to waste, especially a katana that aided in killing Muzan. It is a precious item, so to see Sanemi carefully, diligently gliding a rag against the steel fills Giyuu with pride.
Sanemi immediately detects his presence, his sense sharp, and perks up when he sees it's Giyuu. He sets aside the katana and motions for him to come.
"I wasn't expecting you. Were we supposed to do something?"
The mere fact that Sanemi thought that he missed an outing with Giyuu, something that would have been unheard of a few months ago, makes Giyuu more determined.
"No. I just wanted to come by."
Sanemi's eyes widen a fraction. "Oh. That's alright then.
Giyuu walks up to him, heart pounding in his chest he lifts the arm holding the bento out to Sanemi.
"Here," he pushed the box to him, "for you."
Sanemi carefully takes the box and unties the cloth wrapping it.
"For me? What's this?" he says as he pries open the lid, revealing the ohagi made by giyuu.
"Ohagi? Did you…make these?" Sanemi asks in a low voice, slightly strained.
"Yes."
"Thank you, Giyuu." and without hesitation, he pops an ohagi in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
Once he swallows, he looks up to Giyuu, eyes bright. "They're good." the corners of his mouth stretches into a wide smile that lights up his whole face.
Giyuu's breath catches in his throat. He has never seen such an expression on Sanemi before, never saw him open up this way. Giyuu is absolutely captivated, for his smile is the most beautiful thing he's seen.
--
They are laying in a field; it is a warm day, yet not as humid, and the sun shines beautifully through the trees. Golden light filtering in through the leaves, and spectacular patterns dot the grass.
It is a moment of peace that before, Giyuu would have never allowed himself to have. It feels odd in a way, to not have anything to do.
Giyuu is writing a letter to Tanjiro, and Sanemi reads a book nearby.
He hears a grunt, a shuffle of paper, and then something flies by him, ruffling his bangs.
Ah, that is the book Sanemi was reading.
"Fuck it all! I'm bored!" Sanemi yells, hands tearing through his hair. "I was so used to training everyday and fighting demons and since we don't have to do that anymore, I'm always restless."
Giyuu sets down his brush, giving his full attention to Sanemi. "I know how you feel. I don't really know what to do now. What are we supposed to do?"
Sanemi stands there, letting his hands fall limp to his sides as he thinks it over. "Let's spar."
Giyuu sputters. "Spar? Have you forgotten that I'm missing an arm, and you don't have two of your fingers. How are we supposed to spar?"
Sanemi gives him an incredulous look. "We improvise, " he says it like it's obvious. "We can still use a katana with just one arm. It'll be no problem."
His face softens a fraction. "You don't have to though. But god, I need to do something or else I'm going to lose it."
He ruminates over what Sanemi said. He does make a point. It is easy for him to deny as he tends to bury his emotions, a bad habit he's trying to overcome, but his body has been thrumming with an energy that won't dissipate. An energy that he would expell from wielding a katana and regularly fighting demons. But now, since they have no reason to fight, the energy that is pent up has no where to go. Sanemi must be feeling the same, so he stands up, facing him.
"Let's do it."
And that's how they find themselves at Sanemi's mansion, each wielding a wooden sword.
Giyuu missed the weight in his hand. He's missed this.
Sanemi smirks, eyes wild as he tests the sword by swinging it from side to side.
Seeing how lively Sanemi is, Giyuu realizes he needs this. They both need this. This sense of familiarity, a thread from their previous life; it makes him feel whole again.
"For old times sake, Giyuu?" Sanemi asks, eyes burning with a fire that he hasn't had since the war ended.
"For old times sake." Giyuu responds.
--
Sanemi comes by Giyuu's estate early that morning when the sun barely just comes up, and the dark clouds start to roll in, his expression equally stormy.
Giyuu raises an eyebrow, the sight of a quiet yet enraged Sanemi confuses him.
Sanemi only bows. "I apologize. There may not be much we could do today."
"That's… okay." Giyuu responds, a bit put off by Sanemi's behavior.
He guesses that if there is something wrong, Sanemi will tell him.
So now they have found themselves outside, safe under the engawa as a storm passes through. It is silent save for the heavy raindrops falling off the roof and splattering on the ground.
Giyuu finds it to be both peaceful and haunting. The sounds around him are enough to distract him from his own troubling thoughts from that day. He did not doesn't realize it at first, but after Sanemi came over, he found that the grief weighed on him heavier that day. It was more difficult to pull himself out of bed in the morning and to wash his face. It was painful when he tried to put on his yukata and struggled to tie the obi.
Sanemi still hasn't spoken to him, yet he isn't ignored. Once they first heard the heavy patter of rain, they were both drawn to it and ventured outside, sitting side by side on the wooden floor.
It is easier with him around, the sheer knowledge that he isn't alone, that he isn't the only one to shoulder this burden. Maybe that's why Sanemi stuck around; he doesn't want to be alone either.
Judging from his twisted expression, which looks more pained than anything, and the way his fists clenches and unclenches, he must have been dealing with his own demons.
Wave after wave of rain passes, and they still haven't moved a muscle. The wind blows strongly, ruffling their hair and clothes, yet the air was warm and humid.
Giyuu realizes that the weather matches them perfectly, wind and rain, for the ex wind and water hashira. The thought brought a small smile to him, a sun shining through the darkness that has welled up in his mind.
It may have been a silly thought, but it is his anchor as he feels as if he is on a ship out on stormy seas, nauseating and turbulent.
"What are you smiling about?" Sanemi breaks the silence, voice gruff with disuse.
"Nothing, I just like the weather."
"Hmm, rather gloomy but I don't hate it."
Another moment of silence stretches before Sanemi speaks again.
"It sucks doesn't it? How much we had to lose only to win? I was prepared to sacrifice myself, but here I am, one of the few standing."
Giyuu's eyes widens, Sanemi's words echoing the exact way he has felt for so long, still occasionally feels to this day.
"It does. It really does." Giyuu says, his voice thick with emotion. He hates the way his eyes begin to burn, but with the way he hears the man next to him sniff, he doesn't think he'll be judged for it.
He feels a brush of skin against his hand, looking down to see Sanemi's pinky brushing his. The gesture comforts him, warmth flooding through his body.
The moment shatters when a yell breaks through the heavy downpour.
"Oi! You two! Yes, you! Hello!"
"The fuck, is that—" he squints through the rain "—is that Uzui?"
Giyuu squints his eyes to see through the wall of rain and spots the tall man waving at them, absolutely drenched from the rain.
"I think it is," he gapes.
Uzui makes his way over to them, stopping just right in front of them. He looks ridiculous in a way, white hair splattered against his face and clothes, soaked, sticking to his body awkwardly. But it is Uzui after all, and he makes it work, still just as handsome.
"The fuck you doing out here? It's fucking pouring."
"Oh you know." Uzui waves his hand dismissively. "It's a beautiful day. I enjoy storms like these, it's music. Nature's orchestra if you will."
Sanemi's eyebrows furrow, confused. "Never thought you were the type of person to enjoy storms. Rather dark don't you think?"
Uzui smiles bitterly. "Matches the mood for the day. Why not embrace it rather than stay inside and be miserable?"
There is silence. So Uzui is struggling with it too. Giyuu never put too much thought into considering just how much everyone is truly suffering. It breaks his heart a little as it sinks in, feeling guilty from how much he's been stuck in his own world.
Even if things are much better now, they all bore deep scars.
Uzui continues, "Isn't that what you two are doing?"
Sanemi sighs in resignation and Uzui smiles.
"Go back to your wives before they worry about you."
Uzui shakes his head. "They won't worry, but they sure will be exasperated with me when I come home looking like a drenched cat." He lets out a deep, rumbling laugh. "Well, I just wanted to pass by and see how you two were doing. Come by for dinner sometime!"
With that, Uzui gives one last look to them, magenta eye scanning between the two of them before a knowing smile overtakes his face.
Giyuu isn't sure what that meant, but he waves and smiles at the man before he turns away and walks back.
Sanemi huffs. Giyuu turns to him and is surprised to see a light dusting of red on his cheeks.
Was he sick? Maybe they really should go inside.
He raises his hand and touches it to Sanemi's forehead; it is warm to the touch but not too hot.
Sanemi sputters at the action, his eyes widening to an impossible degree. "W-what the hell are you doing?"
"I thought you were sick." Giyuu's hand is still on his forehead, finding it difficult to break the contact. The touch is—surprisingly nice.
"I'm not sick!" Sanemi spouts, cheeks turning redder.
Giyuu pulls his hand away for fear of making him mad.
"Are you mad?"
"No, I'm not."
"Okay."
Giyuu doesn't know why but he smiles, looking out into the pouring rain he feels that it is nice to no longer have to bear such burdens alone.
--
They are on their way to the festival, dressed in yukata, and walking side by side in comfortable silence. Giyuu loves these moments he has with Sanemi, just simply enjoying his company.
As soon as they reach the entrance, it is bustling with people, kids running around excited and stands filled with people eating delicious food with lanterns shining brightly along the path.
Sanemi takes him from stand to stand, insisting on paying for the food and ignoring Giyuu's attempts to pay. He closes his hand around Giyuu's, the coins in his palm, and gives him a stubborn and troubled look.
Giyuu, from then on, lets Sanemi pay. His heart beats faster, and he distantly thinks that maybe this is a date. He can't tell. It is possible that Sanemi does this because he is his friend. He clenches his fist, and takes a large bite out of the takoyaki, so he can move past the thoughts that made him ache.
There are shouts of people telling everyone that the fireworks are going to start, and Sanemi grabs his wrist and drags him past the stands and to a darker area. It isn't until they are climbing up a hill that Giyuu realizes this is a perfect spot to view the fireworks. He looks out and sees nothing but clear skies, dotted with thousands of stars, with no trees blocking their line of sight.
It is perfect. They sit on the slightly damp grass and wait.
Sanemi isn't saying a word, and he is beginning to think that maybe it is his turn to say something.
He feels a light brush against his fingers, and his mind briefly registers it as Sanemi's fingers.
He breaks out into a cold sweat and his stomach swoops.
"Giyuu," Sanemi says, voice soft and deep, a pleasant sound to his ears, "The moon is beautiful, isn't it." his voice wavers slightly on the last syllable.
Giyuu looks up and spots the moon, full and bright in the night sky. He is almost lost in the sight until the meaning of the words sunk in.
His heart just about stops.
In that moment Giyuu feels everything and nothing, the culmination of their friendship has led to this. Giyuu would have been content pining in silence until the day he died. Sometimes, he had an inkling that he would feel the same way, but Giyuu was too scared to hope. He never fathomed that Sanemi would feel the same way, thinking that he'd spend the rest of his years alone or he'd find a nice girl to start a family with.
Warmth seeps into his body, and he feels heat burning his cheeks.
He turns to Sanemi, who is looking up at the sky, body stiff and eyes strained.
Giyuu laces his fingers with Sanemi which makes him look down, eyes connecting with his.
Giyuu can't help but smile, the biggest one he's ever had. Sanemi's eyes widen at the sight.
"Yes, it is." Giyuu replies.
Sanemi lets out a breath —he must have been holding it in for awhile—and returns the smile, the skin next to his eyes crinkling with mirth.
His hand squeezes Giyuu's, and then they hear the tell tale booms of the fireworks. They both turn back to the sky with wide smiles and hands interlaced, and it is possibly one of Giyuu's most happiest memories.
During the fireworks show, Giyuu glances at Sanemi who was bathed in a multitude of colors, and thought that this Sanemi was the most beautiful.
Sanemi walked with him to his estate, his hands still interlaced with Giyuu's. His hand is so warm, and his grip so firm that it grounds Giyuu.
As they stop at the entrance, Sanemi turns around to face Giyuu, his other hand lifts from his side to cup his cheek. The touch is gentle as his thumb brushes over his cheekbone. The expression on his face is so fond that it makes his heart squeeze in his chest.
He leans forward, and with that, Giyuu realizes what he was doing. He thought he'd be scared but nothing is more natural than meeting him halfway in a soft kiss, lips brushing against his.
They part after a moment.
Giyuu has never thought he'd smile so much in one day.
"I didn't think you'd return my feelings." Sanemi's soft voice breaks the silence.
"I didn't think you'd return mine either."
Sanemi laughs, the sound bright and pleasant in his ears.
And then he turns to leave, waving to Giyuu as he walks away, with a promise that he will see him again tomorrow.
Sanemi’s white hair glows under the moonlight, and with the way his yukata shifts and flows as he moves, it reminds Giyuu of the spirits he hears in old stories.
Bathed in the beauty of moonlight, he is otherworldly.
--
The summer heat is brutal.
Giyuu's head is in Sanemi's lap, the man above him gliding his fingers through his short hair.
"Hey Giyuu. Let's build a house."
"Don't we already have the estates?"
"Yeah, but, wouldn't you want something we could call ours?"
That makes Giyuu's eyes widen and warmth floods in his chest. For some reason, it never clicked that he and Sanemi could have something like this. He remembers Tanjiro who now lives in his own home with his friends in the mountains. Why can’t he have something like that too?
"Yeah, let's do it."
Sanemi cups his cheek, a brilliant smile illuminating his face, and he leans down, capturing Giyuu's lips in a kiss.
Giyuu can’t help but smile back into the kiss.
Sanemi pulls away a moment later. "Where should we build it?"
"Hm, I don't want it to be too far from everyone, but also far enough where it can be just us."
Sanemi reaches for Giyuu’s hand and squeezes, “Sounds like a plan.”
--
Everyone is at their house: Tanjiro and Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inosuke, Uzui and his wives, the butterfly girls and Murata. Their home is absolutely packed, Giyuu sits outside with a disgruntled looking Sanemi. Their home is small, just enough for the two of them, so their guests were spilling outside; the both of them weren't quite prepared for the sheer amount of people, but Tanjiro insisted they have everyone over to celebrate their new home.
So here Giyuu is, taking it as it comes. Sanemi curses every so often, overwhelmed, yet he catches him talking to Nezuko, catching up with her and braiding her hair.
The sight warms Giyuu's heart, seeing his lover treating Nezuko as if she is his own sibling.
They have lost so much, but that doesn't mean they can't cherish what they have now. With such little time left, they have no choice but to make the most of it.
Uzui's boisterous laughter pulls him away from his thoughts. He has Nezuko up on his shoulders as they twirl around.
The scene before him is purely chaotic with Zenitsu fuming behind Inosuke, Tanjiro trying to calm the former down, and Makio and Suma fighting.
"Tengen, do me next! That looks like fun!" Suma exclaims as she claps her hands together in excitement.
"Oi." Makio smacks her shoulder. "That's going to be way too dangerous! What if you fall?"
"He would never drop me!"
"Suma, Makio, please…" Hinatsuru says, exasperated yet the small smile on her face says otherwise.
"Ugh, this is a mistake. It's so loud and there's so many people." Sanemi grumbles next to him.
"You don't mean that. We never really had something like this before. Everyone seems…so happy."
"You're right. But you should have known that once we combine everyone together, there'll be no peace." Sanemi laughs.
Giyuu's sense of time is terrible because the next time he looks up, the sun has already set. Have they really been out here that long?
There is a fire out in the front of the house where everyone's already gathered. Uzui takes it upon himself to provide the entertainment, haggling Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu into his makeshift band.
The result is… interesting. Both Uzui and Zenitsu are extremely talented musicians. Zenitsu strums his shamisen with a fervor of a man who has something to prove, and Uzui sings along with a voice like silk, smooth and rich, but unfortunately it clashes with a tone deaf Tanjiro who's supposed to harmonize. Inosuke is completely unbothered as he blows into his flute, the sound so shrill that it makes his ears hurt.
Sanemi looks close to murdering everyone, and Giyuu smiles, happy to see all of his friends together.
Giyuu’s hand reaches for Sanemi’s, thumb running over his knuckles. His skin is scarred and calloused—much like Giyuu’s own— a proof of the life they lived. Sanemi turns to him, eyes immediately softening.
“I’m happy,” Giyuu whispers, his eyes briefly glancing at the lively crowd before him. No one is without a smile.
Sanemi smiles, eyes crinkling with warmth. “I am too.”
He places a quick peck on Giyuu’s cheek, hoping to go unnoticed, but the hoot from Uzui tells them otherwise.
The grumble of Sanemi makes Giyuu laugh, his chest filled with so much love for the man next to him.
The guilt no longer has its claws on him, weighing him down. Now, for the first time in his life, he is free to live. He is free to be.
Loneliness followed Giyuu like the moon, only this time he wasn't alone, surrounded by numerous stars that shone brightly around him, the sky was no longer empty.
If not for the moon, the tides would not flow.
And without the wind, there'd be no waves.