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Chapter Text

The winter season is one many demon slayers see as both a curse and a blessing. It is a blessing, in that the soft white snow creates a world of wonder in the forests, and the snow tells each one that another year is coming and going. It is a curse because one must then shovel that snow, or trudge through it on a mission, and many envy the demons who feel nothing even in the hottest summers and bitterly cold winters. 

But for those that grew up in the mountains, such weather was of little concern. Mountains were cold and tall, and by nature the higher one lived, the thinner the air. With that, even the cold air that stung their throats and lungs was manageable, and they felt their skin was more suited to the bitter winds that pressed against them no matter the direction they faced. 

One such slayer who was more accustomed to such weather was the current water hashira, Tomioka Giyu. Having grown up with Urokodaki-sensei on Mt. Sagiri, and with its notoriously thin air and the bitterness of it in the winter-time, Tomioka was much accustomed to the way winter winds felt during his travels. Perhaps that was why he was sent on such a far away mission during the snowy season. 

Either way, the water hashira didn’t care. He just wanted to get this mission over with, so he could go back home. Tanjiro had invited him to dinner after this mission… and Giyu actually wanted to come. It.. it would be rude not to.. Right? 

Giyu shook his head and focused back on where he was heading. He could think of that invitation later, he had a mission to complete. With a soft huff of breath, the water Hashira continued on his way, sprinting silently through the snow. 

In a village near the mountain where Giyu’s mission was taking place, eight hashira sat around a table. The group was chattering away, warm drinks in their hands (Muichiro had tea with cream). Mitsuri and Rengoku had the most empty bowls around them, yet both continued to nibble on the shared food as Sanemi and Tengen engaged in a fight over the last ohagi, neither wanting to split it between them. Gyomei talked quietly with Shinobu, a small smile on his face as she discussed medical jargon with her. Muichiro just sat quietly and listened, watching Kaburamaru as Obanai stared at Mitsuri with heart-eyes.  

Shinobu glanced outside and made a face. “Ara ara, the snow seems to be getting quite heavy,” she mused, raising a brow. “Perhaps we should make plans for a stay at an inn,” she hummed. 

Sanemi glanced outside, scoffing. “Uh, hate fuckin’ winter,” he mumbled. Next to him, Uzui snatched the ohagi from his plate, and Sanemi let out a growl, smacking Tengen who laughed with his mouth full. “You asshole!”

“Snooze you lose,” Tengen snorted, swallowing and giving Sanemi a shit-eating-grin. 

Mitsuri laughed behind her hand, cheeks darkening while Rengoku just laughed loudly, shaking his head. Obanai rolled his eyes while Muichiro blinked at them, uncaring. 

Gyomei hummed softly and sipped his warm drink, his movements slowing for a moment before he turned towards the window, brows furrowing. The wind whistled by the window, and Shinobu turned from the show of Sanemi attempting to fight Tengen to observe the Rock hashira. 

“Is everything alright, Himejima-san?” she asked softly. 

Gyomei frowned, his unseeing eyes seemingly staring out the window. “I sense a distressed creature.”

His soft tone caught the others attention, and in good timing too. Through the window, a familiar old crow came soaring in, covered in snow and causing a mess by crashing into the table with a loud caw. 

Mitsuri let out a gasp, eyes widening. “Oh goodness!” she cried, reaching out to take the shivering bird. 

Tengen’s brows furrowed. “What’s Tomioka’s old crow doing here?” he mumbled, crossing his arms. 

Shinobu shrugged and leaned forward, the group watching as Mitsuri hurriedly brushed the snow off the crow, bundling the shivering avian into her haori. After a few moments of coddling, the old crow finally seemed to find its voice, albeit weak and shaken. 

“Caw- Caw- Tomio-Caw Giyuu- Assistance! Demon- in the Mountains!” the old crow crooned, attempting to be louder despite his raspy and old voice. “Injured, Assistance! Assistance!” 

Shinobu’s brows furrowed and he expression became one of concern. “Tomioka-san is taking a mission in this weather?” she asked, receiving a nod from the tired crow. 

Iguro scoffed. “If he wanted to take a mission like that, I see no reason to assist,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “It’s his own fault.” 

Mitsuri made a noise of protest. “Iguro-san! That’s not very nice!” she scolded, frowning down at the crow. “His crow said he’s injured, maybe we should help?”

Sanemi made a face. “With what? Himejima-san and I are the only ones with our weapons, and frankly I don’t care about that stuck up prick, he can go freeze for all I care,” he scoffed. 

A soft voice piped up. “Perhaps we should assist him anyhow…” Muichiro murmured, tilting his head. “Kocho-san said it was getting cold.” 

There was a mutter of agreement through the table, and Rengoku nodded. “Indeed! It would be quite unseemly to deny a fellow slayer’s request for help!” He said, smiling brightly and standing. 

Sanemi groaned, but followed suit along with the rest of the table and stood. “Fine, but I’m not helping him unless he’s bleeding out,” he mumbled. 

As Tengen paid the inn-keeper for their meal and the rest of the group grabbed any extra cold-weather clothes they’d brought, Shinobu couldn’t help but stare at the darkening sky with a frown. The snow was only growing in its volume, and the winter blowing by would make any normal human shiver. 

She couldn’t deny her concern. 

Their trek up the mountainside was by no means a quick one. Muichiro and Shinobu, the shortest of their group, relied the most on their lightness to get through the layers of white that covered the mountainside trails. Gyomei and Tengen, with their heights, had little trouble with the snow’s height as they walked. Only Obanai and Sanemi seemed to struggle, though Sanemi was mostly complaining just because he could while Obanai frankly hated the cold and requested Kyojuro hold Kaburamaru, as the Flame pillar ran significantly warmer than the rest of them for whatever reason. 

After some time of walking, Tengen faltered and stopped talking, his silence interrupting the conversation he was having with Mitsuri about his wives. The Sound hashira frowned, and his pace sped up slightly, mouth pressed in a thin line. 

Sanemi moved forward and yanked the sleeve of the plum-colored hatan Uzui wore over his uniform. “What?” he snapped. “What is it?” 

Uzui looked at him, a frown on his face. “I can hear the fight,” he said, voice unusually grim. 

Sanemi’s expression froze a little and he swallowed. “And?” 

“And something ahead of us is knocking trees down.” 

As if to prove Tengen’s claim, something dark and definitely tree-like blew past them, only stopping as it crashed into a thicker cluster of trees and stopped. The group stared in silence before their attention went back to the direction the tree had come from. 

With their pace faster, and the knowledge that whatever this demon was, it liked throwing large heavy objects like one throws a pebble, they didn’t say a word. Their only goal was to get to the sight of the fight, and hope there wasn’t too much to do with damage control. 

The smell of blood was their next clue. Splatters of bright red stained the pure white of the falling snow around them, the snow showing signs of a fight. Blood stained the trees around them, as if someone had been thrown into them, and large firs had been snapped in two, their remaining halves found quite far away. Shouts and grunts became louder as they approached a dip in the mountain, a small clearing near a drop off where the blood looked the freshest, and the familiar sound of a metal sword hitting something could be heard. 

Beneath them, the familiar form of the Water Hashira stood panting, sword in hand as he stood across from a truly disgusting demon. Around them were bits of wood and leaves, and blood. So much blood, clearly coming from Giyu, who was sporting a large cut on his stomach and seemed to be favoring his left leg. His hair, usually done up in a ponytail, was now free of restraint and soaked with snow and probably blood as well. He huffed, breathing shaky, yet he stayed still. 

The demon was a huge thing. It towered over even Gyomei, at least eight or nine feet tall. It was a strange purple color, dull and lifeless, and its large eyes were yellow. It had hands, too many hands, one holding another broken off tree. It was strong, and fat, and reeked of blood. From just the sight of it, the hashira could tell it had eaten many people. Not as much as a lower moon, but many. 

The demon laughed, eyes wide and focused on Giyu. “Getting tired?” it taunted, swinging the tree down to hit Giyu. 

Giyu jumped out of the way, but the movement was slower than usual and he struggled to recover from landing on his right leg. 

The demon laughed again and once again the tree came swing towards Giyu, who again leaped out of the way and made to attack the demon, only for it to grab a smaller tree nearby and whack it into Giyu’s side with a *Crack!*, throwing the hashira into the snow quite a few feet away. 

Giyu panted, weakly pushing himself up as he coughed. Something warm wet his lips and he stared down at the bright red staining the snow under him. He wondered how long the demon would torture him. How long till he died. 

The demon laughed, the sound ringing through Giyu’s ears. His footsteps approached and Giyu looked up, eyes wide as a large log was raised above his head. 

“Bye-bye, slayer~” cooed the demon, a sickening smile on his face. 

Giyu’s eyes closed and he braced himself. 

But nothing came. Instead, he heard a loud cry, and the sound of someone shouting. His eyes opened and he stared up at Gyomei’s form towering over him, though the giant was facing the demon, who had been thrown into the snow and was now sporting a large circular wound. 

Giyu gaped, panting weakly as he looked up at his fellow pillar. Gyomei’s head turned to his and the serious look on his face faded to show a small, sad smile. 

“Stay there. We’ll handle it.” he said, turning back to the demon. 

‘We?’ Giyu wondered, before a familiar voice was heard and the demon was now missing a few arms. 

“Hey fuckface!” Sanemi shouted, snarling at the demon. 

The demon growled and lunged forward, but Gyomei moved forward and his spiked-flail flew forward and broke off a good chunk of the demon. Sanemi dove forward and more limbs came off. The two were an effective team, but Giyu could barely keep up. 

He closed his eyes, shaking slightly. He wasn’t sure what was happening. When did the others arrive? Why? Did.. did Kanzaburo… he must have- Giyu hoped he was okay. He was an old crow… 

Someone was shaking him. He tried to look up, but his head was pounding and his vision was a blur of white and red. But there was something purple in there, and then pink and black, but Giyu couldn’t focus on them. Their voices were familiar, but fading, and all he could focus on was the dull chill of the snow around him and the heavy feeling in his chest. His eyes closed and he wondered if maybe he just dreamed up being saved by the other hashira. 

Maybe he had. 

He wondered why it stopped being cold. 

Shinobu let out an annoyed shout. “You idiot!” she hissed, shaking Tomioka. “Stay awake, you dumbass!” her frustration gave way to fear, and she felt Giyu’s neck for a pulse. It was there, faint, but there. 

Shinobu looked up, watching Sanemi stamping on the ashes of the disintegrating demon. Himejima walked forward, frowning. “Is he okay?” 

“He’s alive,” Shinobu said flatly, lips pursed in a thin line. “But heavily injured and at risk of hypothermia,” she continued, watching as everyone’s faces became grim. In front of her, Giyu breathed weakly, still bleeding sluggishly onto the snow. 

“I have found a cave!” Rengoku shouted, drawing their attention. He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual grin, and his eyes betrayed the concern he felt. “Iguro-san and Kanroji-san are already inside trying to start a fire! Muichiro is helping!”

Shinobu nodded. “Okay. Himejima-san-” she turned to the other. 

Already the gentle giant was kneeling down, carefully picking Giyu up and holding him close to his chest. “I will keep him out of the snow,” he murmured, starting to murmur gentle prayers under his breath. Tears had begun to gather in his eyes. 

Shinobu nodded. “Good. Sanemi, Tengen, go with Himejima-san and collect wood on the way,” she directed, glancing up at the sky. “I will collect some herbs, if there are any out here,” she said dryly. 

After a collective nod, Shinobu began to search the nearby area, mentally cursing the current season. Of course it would begin to snowstorm right when they needed to help their injured comrade. She managed to scrounge up some leaves, enough to make a medical tea perhaps, but nothing very helpful. She returned to the cave after an hour or so, entering with a grim expression. 

Inside the cave, the other hashira had set up a small area for Giyu to be settled in. Mitsuri had given up her haori for Giyu, and Shinobu could see the bandages wrapped around his arm and chest. She handed the herbs to Kyojuro, who was sitting near a small, measly fire, attempting to help keep the fire going. The cave wasn’t large, but thankfully deep enough that the back end wasn’t damp and the fire was only mildly affected by the cold wind outside. 

“His leg is broken,” Sanemi mumbled, sitting next to Giyu. He was attempting to fashion some sort of brace, and moved over to show Shinobu the area. 

“It's a clean break at least, though fighting on it definitely didn’t help,” she mumbled, taking the splint and trying it up. “It’s too old to be recent. A small break, probably made worse by the demon.”

Sanemi grunted, glancing over Giyu’s unconscious body. The water hashira was lying on his back, haori off to let it dry, and his uniform moved and cut in places to apply medical care. “Most of his injuries are older than just that fight now.”

Shinobu nodded. “It seems that the demon was not from his original mission,” she mumbled. “It got lucky.” 

Tengen shuffled over, eyeing Giyu. “How’s the emo doing?” 

“Alive,” said Shinobu, doing a more thorough check of Giyu’s vitals. “But his core temperature is too low, and he has multiple broken bones,” she huffed. “I’d take him back to the mansion, but the current weather is not ideal to travel in. His body wouldn’t be able to handle it.” 

Tengen nodded, glancing at the cave entrance, where they could all see the thick layers of snow surrounding them. “Yeah. I can hear his heart, it’s not good.” 

Shinobu glanced at him, as if realizing something. “Tengen…” she said softly. “You can hear his breathing, right?” 

He nodded, looking back at her in confusion. “..yes?”

“What does it sound like?” she asked, tone serious. “Is it raspy, wet, does it stutter? Tell me everything.” 

Tengen’s brows furrowed a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. “Ah. Yes…” he sighed, focusing on the sound of Giyu’s breathing. He frowned. “It’s wet. His lungs aren’t clear, nor is his throat… there's mucus in it, and they're not filling up to their potential,” he said, his words causing Shinobu’s brows to furrow. 

“Is he sick?” Muichiro asked, eyes a little wider, tone somewhat concerned. 

Shinobu nodded, reaching over to feel Giyu’s forehead with the back of her hand. “I believe so. The mix of cold weather, injuries, and energy needed for his body to both fight and remain functional is resulting in what I believe is some form of a chest cold or pneumonia,” she mumbled, voice low. 

Mitsuri made a distressed noise, and nearby, Gyomei began to pray louder, tears dripping down his cheeks. An uncomfortable feeling spread across the group, silent save for Gyomei’s increasing prayers and the sound of weak breaths and faint winter winds. 

It was Muichiro who finally broke their silence, sitting by the fire and staring at Giyu. 

“Do we need to warm him up?”

Shinobu nodded. “Yes. The best way would be with the fire, but we have little fuel and thus I can only use it to make medical water,” she mumbled, glancing at Gyomei, who was working on fashioning the drink with their limited supplies as he prayed. 

“Them how the fuck do we warm him up?” Sanemi huffed, crossing his arms and glaring off to the side. 

“Sit him next to Kyojuro,” Iguro deadpanned, stroking Kaburamaru who lay curled around his neck like usual.  

“You’re half correct,” Shinobu replied dryly, shaking her head. “The best way to provide consistent warmth in such weather would be to share body heat,” she explained. “However Giyu’s broken leg means that we would have to be careful with holding him.” 

Sanemi made a face. “Wait, you’re not saying we’re actually going to cuddle together, are you?” he asked, scrunching his nose up. 

“Unless you want to freeze to death, yes,” Shinobu replied, raising a brow at him. 

Sanemi scoffed and turned his head. “Hell no.” 

“I for one do not want to cuddle a sick person,” Iguro mumbled, brows furrowing as his eyes narrowed in on Giyu’s flushing face. 

“He’s not contagious,” Shinobu huffed, glancing at him. “Well he is, but not in the sense that any of us risk catching it from him, our bodies are well fed and most of us are resistant to the illness,” she said dryly. “Myself included.” 

“I see no issue if it means helping another!” Kyojuro spoke up, grinning. “How shall we proceed!” 

“Perhaps I should hold him,” Gyomei murmured, focusing on finishing the tea. He seemed to have been holding a cup of some sort, and no one was about to question  why because they were more glad the tea could even be made at all. 

“Himejima-san is the biggest…” Mitsuri agreed, peering at Giyu. “And the gentlest.” 

“Are you saying I’m not?” Tengen asked, a little miffed. 

“You are not,” Iguro said, giving Tengen a look. 

The Sound hashira sputtered indignantly.  “My wives would disagree,” he protested. 

“Yeah well I can’t hear them here now can I?” Sanemi shot back, smirking. 

Shinobu rolled her eyes internally, looking back at Giyu and thinking. Interrupting the continuing disagreement between Tengen and Sanemi, she looked at Gyomei. “Himejima-san, if you hold Giyu, will you be able to mind his broken leg?” She asked seriously. 

“I will not cause any further pain,” he promised, handing her the cup of medicinal tea. 

“Good. Sanemi, help be prop him up,” Shinobu directed, and with Sanemi’s help she lifted the cup to Giyu’s lips, massaging his throat so he could drink. Once she was done, they lied him back down and she sighed, looking to Iguro. “If you don’t wish to participate, at least fill this with some fresh snow and warm it up into drinkable water while the fire is still going,” she said calmly. “Boil it if possible, then set it out to cool” 

Iguro made a face under his bandages, but nodded and took the cup. As he did, Gyomei made his way over, waiting for instruction. 

“Himejima-san, Shinazugawa-san and I will transfer Tomioka-san to your arms. Please mind the injury to his stomach, and his right leg,” Shinobu said calmly. Between the two hashira, Giyu was safely deposited into Gyomei’s arms. 

The Rock pillar gently held Giyu, settling down into a criss-cross position, gently cradling the other pillar in his lap. He was mindful of his broken leg,holding Giyu so his right leg was closer to Gyomei and thus the blind man could better be aware of it. Giyu sat upright, enough for his airways to be clear, head resting against the other’s broad chest. Gyomei’s hands were massive compared to most, yet with surprising gentleness he moved the wet hair from Giyu’s face, murmuring prayers under his breath as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

Shinobu let out a breath, smiling tiredly. “Alright then. Now that that’s settled, lets settle in for the night,” she hummed, moving over to Gyomei and leaning against his side in a familiar manner, earning a faint smile from the taller pillar. 

Mitsuri nodded, scooting over and settling next to Shinobu, Kyojuro going to Gyomei’s other side with Tengen joining him. A reluctant Sanemi moved over and settled near Tengen, while Obanai returned and went to Mitsuri. Muichiro was the last of them, the youngest hashira creeping forward and silently managing to insert himself with Giyu in Gyomei’s lap, small enough to fit and cause no discomfort. 

Indeed, while odd, the group found themselves warming up slowly as their collective body heat warded off the winter cold outside. Slowly eyes began to close and a comfortable silence filled the cave, soft breaths and the slight noise of one snuggling closer to another. Even after the fire died, and the water Iguro collected went untouched, the group stayed warm and slept soundly.

Chapter Text

When morning came, Gyomei was the first to wake. He stayed still, enjoying the presence of his fellow pillars, and finding the one resting in his arms to be still, yet no worse than the night before. Slowly the others began to rise, as the light of dawn began to filter into their hide-away and the silence of the morning revealed the end of the snowstorm from the night before. 

The process of leaving was a quick one, as a groggy Mitsuri helped the much more active Shinobu rebandage Giyu’s wounds. Tengen and Sanemi were sent off to deliver news of their arrival to the Butterfly Mansion, the latter member grumpily denying the fact he’d somehow ended up clinging to Tengen’s arm in the night, and the former relentlessly bragging about how no one could resist his muscular body- honestly, Shinobu wondered how those two were even friends. 

Iguro and Kyojuro went to the village and purchased a blanket, which was used to wrap Giyu in carefully before travel, as the speed of travel in such cold would probably be very uncomfortable for the already sick pillar. Once done, the two left to assist at the mansion, mostly because Iguro despised the cold and wanted his scaly companion out of the cold as soon as possible, and Kyojuro was more than happy to accompany him. 

When everything was said and done, the rest of their group set off, Giyu wrapped snugly and held just as securely in Gyomei’s arms as they ran back to the mansion. Mitsuri and Shinobu discussed the odd friendship between Tengen and Sanemi, the forming finding it rather sweet while Shinobu thought they were both idiots, and Muichiro just nodded along. 

Once arriving, Giyu was bustled away to the section reserved for treating the Pillars, and left in Aoi’s care. She and the other girls had been ready to receive him, already having the proper medicine and supplies to treat his legs and illness. 

The hashira found themselves sitting in the room once Giyu’s wounds had been cared for. They sat on the beds nearby, or in Iguro’s case they leaned against the wall. It was quiet, but no one knew what to say. 

“..it’s weird, isn’t it?” Sanemi muttered, staring at Giyu. The other was laid on a bed, in the standard pjs every patient wore, hair finally clean of blood and wounds treated properly. 

“Ara?” Shinobu tilted her head at him. 

Sanemi made a face, lips pursed thin as he gestured at Giyu. “Him. Being sick. I dunno, it's just… weird.” 

“You have always viewed Tomioka-san as someone who thinks themselves above others,” Gyomei stated, hands together and face dry. 

“That’s true…” Mitsuri murmured, fiddling with her braids. She frowned, the expression odd on her usually cheerful face. “But… he’s human, like us.”

“He sure doesn’t act like one of us,” Iguro muttered bitterly, looking away from the others. After a moment… “but it is strange.” 

“He is certainly intriguing!” Kyojuro piped up, smiling. “Despite being so quiet!” 

Tengen hummed non committedly, shrugging his shoulders. “Hinatsuru thinks he’s got baggage,” he said calmly. 

“Don’t we all?” Sanemi shot back, rolling his eyes. “He’s not special.” 

Muichiro tilted his head, gazing at Giyu. The young pillar stood silently and moved to sit next to Giyu’s bed, watching him quietly. “He talks less than me.” 

Shinobu huffed, shaking her head. “He is nearly a lost cause,” she muttered. “I have been attempting to get him to make friends, but he is stubborn,” she huffed, a little pouty over the whole ordeal. 

Another bout of silence, though soon broken as Giyu shifted in his sleep. His brows drew closer and his face scrunched up in a look similar to pain, and his head shifted to the side. He mumbled something to the air, hand twitching beside him. 

Muichiro blinked at the display and leaned closer, the other hashira unconsciously straining themselves to hear what it was Giyu was mumbling about in his sleep. 

“..nn.. S..sab..ito…” the name was unfamiliar to all, yet the way it was said was with a yearning unheard of from the water hashira. “..n..s..stay….p..plea..ase….” his mumbling was desperate, and his hand flexed slightly as his head turned to the other side again. He groaned, twitching slightly before his face smoothed out again. 

Thinking it was over, Sanemi opened his mouth. “Who the hell is Sa-” 

Suddenly Giyu let out a cry, ragged and rough and stopped whatever Sanemi was about to say out of his throat. Tengen reared back, hands covering his ears as he stared with wide eyes, Muichiro sharing a similar wide-eyed look. 

Giyu thrashed on the bed, muttering ragged and unintelligible words. Shinobu rose from her seat quickly, rushing over and attempting to hold Giyu down, afraid he’d rip his stitches. She looked back at the others and made a face. 

“Well?” she snapped, eyes wide as she glanced at Giyu and then them. “A little assistance?” she stressed, which seemed to get a reaction. 

Kyojuro came to assist in holding Giyu down, taking Shinobu’s place as he gently held the still thrashing Giyu down, a worried look replacing his usual smile. Sanemi went to get his legs, careful of the broken one, while the rest just watched. Shinobu went to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle and syringe, filling it up quickly before returning and jabbing it into Giyu’s good arm. 

Slowly the thrashing stilled and Giyu’s body went lax, face smoothing out once more, the only proof of the event being the faint crease between his brows. Slowly the two pillars holding him down let go and stepped back. 

Shinobu let out a breath, setting the syringe down on a nearby table as she surveyed her patient, frowning. 

“...what the hell was that,” Iguro asked, staring wide eyed at Giyu’s once more still form, Mitsuri standing beside him with her hands over her mouth. 

“Nightmare,” Shinobu said, still observing Giyu. “Not uncommon in ill patients, the mind is still active and the body will react.” 

“What was he even saying?” Sanemi muttered, sitting down on a bed with a huff, eyes wide as he stared at Giyu. 

“...Don’t leave me, I’m scared, stay, Sabito,” Tengen said, voice oddly quiet. His face was blank, and he was looking at Giyu as if the other was a book he was reading. “...I’ve heard him say that before,” he admitted. “...passing his estate… I swore I heard screams, just like that….” 

“And you didn’t check on him?” Mitsuri asked, appalled. 

“I figured it wasn a nightmare, plus he doesn’t exactly have the attitude of ‘oh yeah come inside at 2am,’' Tengen said, raising a brow at her.  

Awareness came in slow stages. First it was the feeling of his heavy body, a dull throbbing in his head and leg. Then it was the sensation of his throat, the heaviness of his chest as he breathed, the familiar need to cough itching the back of his throat and mouth. His eyelids were heavy, and he slowly worked to open them, feeling that annoying crustiness of having slept too long and not well. 

His vision revealed the familiar ceiling of the butterfly mansion, and he took a deep breath without thinking. He deserved the ensuing cough, as it rattled in his chest and tore at his throat, his position not helping in the slightest. Yet warm hands, large hands, helped him  up and leaned forward, where the process of expelling whatever mucus had filled his lungs was made slightly easier. 

Slowly the hacking died down and Giyu panted, hoping to not trigger another fit as he took greedy gulps of fresh air. A cup of familiar smelling tea was brought to his lips and he drank it, the bitter herbs making his face scrunch up even as the warmth soothed the aching of his throat. 

He was laid down again, this time against some pillows. He looked to his caretaker, surprised to see a familiar pair of unseeing eyes seemingly gazing back at him. Gyomei offered a small, quiet smile. 

“Good to see you’re finally awake, Tomioka-san,” hummed another familiar voice, and Giyu turned his head to face Shinobu, who was standing beside his bedside, tea cup in hand as she smiled at him. 

Giyu slowly nodded, blinking at her tiredly. He opened his mouth, then paused and closed it, not willing to risk another coughing fit. He looked at Himejima, then her, brows drawing together in a silent look of confusion. 

Shinobu smiled at him, though it was tired. “We’ve been taking rounds checking on you,” she said as an explanation, setting the cup down. 

“It is good news that you are awake,” Gyomei murmured beside him, his prayer beads clinking together gently. 

Giyu nodded, aware the other couldn’t see it, but unable to respond in any other way. He looked at Shinobu, wanting to ask who the “we” she mentioned was, when the slam of the door behind her stopped him. Candlelight streamed into the room, revealing a disgruntled Tengen and Kyojuro, though the latter still smiled cheerfully. 

“Another coughing fit-?” Tengen stopped, staring at Giyu, a strange expression on his face. Beside him, Kyojuro stared at Giyu, smiling brightly, though his eyes seemed oddly empty as if shocked. 

Giyu stared back, and slowly raised a hand to give a small hand-wave, unsure what he was meant to do. Shinobu, who was looking between him and the other two, let out a small laugh at his action. He gave her a deadpan look, as if to say, “what did you want me to do, huh?” 

Kyojuro was the first to snap out of it, walking forward briskly. “Tomioka-san! You are finally awake! This is- this is wonderful!” he grinned, stopping at the end of his bed, hands on his hips as he grinned. Giyu just nodded back dumbly, confused as to why the other cared that he was awake. 

Tengen walked over next, a grin forming on his face. “What a flamboyant recovery!” he grinned, leaning over to give Giyu a slap on the shoulder, only for Shinobu to stop him via smacking his hand. 

“No hitting until he is cleared for recovery training,” she said dryly, and Tengen withdrew the appendage with a sheepish hum. 

“Ah yes, of course,” he said, stepping back. 

A slightly uncomfortable silence settled over them as the two new guests stared at Giyu, and he stared back silently. Tengen scratched the back of his head, while Kyojuro’s eyes began to form a glint of concern, corners of his mouth falling slightly. 

Giyu pursed his lips, still not willing to risk another coughing fit, and instead looked at Shinobu and made a face. She raised a brow back, silently daring him to speak up if he wanted something. 

“....hello,” he mumbled, voice dry and raspy. He swallowed a bit, wincing at the soreness of his throat, but the small word seemed to do wonders for the two’s mood as he was faced with two brilliant smiles. 

Giyu felt himself shrink under the attention, head dipping a bit as his cheeks warmed slightly. Normally such attention would be fine, he managed to handle all the pillar’s accusations at many meetings before… but something about being bedridden and unable to speak made him feel somewhat smaller than usual. It was probably the fever. 

Shinobu clapped her hands. “Now that we’ve had that lovely reunion, Giyu needs to take his medicine and go back to bed,” she said, smiling her classical smile at the two. “So, you two shoo, and wait till morning to inform the rest that our dear water pillar is awake,” she said, managing to chase the two out with her calm actions as she walked towards them and out of the door. 

Once the door was shut behind them, she turned back at Giyu and smiled. “Now then, medicine,” she grinned. 

Giyu didn’t even try to hide his grimace, knowing full well the medicine in question was going to be utterly unpleasant. 

Ten minutes later and after having drank two cups of disgusting herb mixtures and having Shinobu stick something down his throat before proceeding to do a check on his eyes and ears, Giyu was finally allowed to settle back down in his bed, though he was reminded to be careful of his leg. 

Gyomei had acted as supervisor and moral support through the ordeal, and currently was assisting Giyu in settling down, making sure he was covered. For being blind, he was amazingly aware of what needed to be done to ensure Giyu slept comfortably. As Giyu’s eyes began to close and sleep began to drag him back down into a black abyss, he swore he felt those gentle hands stroking his hair much as his sister once had when he was very small. 

The next few weeks passed… strangely. Yes, that was the best word for it. 

Every time he woke up, he was greeted with the sight of someone. Sometimes it was one or all of the little butterfly trio, each excited he was awake and adorably persistent in giving him medicine. Other times it was Shinobu, who poked gentle fun at him, yet her tone was softer than before and each jab wasn’t as bitter as usual. When it wasn’t those first two, it was another hashira. Maybe they’d be reading, or drawing, or with another and talking… but they’d always smile at him, (well Sanemi and Iguro didn’t smile, but they weren’t cruel and talked to him-), and then fetch Shinobu to perform a check up and give him more disgusting medicine. 

He learned after a week or so that while his illness was doing better,(little to no fever and just a slight cough),  his leg would take nearly a month to heal if all went well. Being bed-ridden was…. Very boring. When he was awake, the most he did was eat and drink water or tea after his medicine and answer questions on how he felt. He itched to move, but Shinobu was ever so keen on reminding him that it was ill advised to try and move with his broken leg. 

Even so, Giyu was stubborn , if not a little dumb on occasion, and after a day stewwing in bed while the three little girls that loved bringing him and everyone else little snacks through the day had talked to him, he felt the deep urge to at least walk around. He could manage a hobble, honestly, so he waited till Shinobu had given him his last dose of medicine before leaving with the girls.

After a few moments he sat up slowly in bed, looking around. The mansion was silent, and so far he didn’t think that anyone would be visiting him in the night, because that’s weird and already it was strange to be visited by a bunch of people he was sure disliked him. Either way, he slowly shifted in place till his feet touched the floor and he shivered slightly. His right leg, wrapped up in a cast thanks to Shinobu, felt heavier and bulkier than he liked, but he pushed through it. 

As he stood up, focusing on the aching of his sore muscles and trying not to put pressure on his leg, the door behind him slid open silently. He let out a huff, a little shaky from not moving for so long. 

Suddenly, large hands gently gripped his shoulders and he felt himself being lifted up. Giyu gaped, head swinging around to see who had picked him up. 

“You should not be standing,” Gyomei murmured, holding Giyu for a moment before setting him back down in his bed with surprising grace. “You must rest.”

Giyu blinked, a small cough leaving his throat. “I-”

Gyomei’s hand reached out to touch his forehead before he could speak, the palms of his hand calloused and warm. After a moment of consideration, he drew his hand away, sitting down on the bed next to Giyu’s. 

Giyu swallowed, trying to think of something to say. 

“...Why are you here?” he settled on, after a moment. His words, as always, were more direct than many thought acceptable. 

His companion didn’t seem to mind. 

“I came to check on you,” Gyomei replied. Giyu glanced at him, realizing the other wasn’t wearing his uniform, but instead a dark green yukata. 

Giyu gave a small nod. “...right.” 

Gyomei offered a small smile. “Are you feeling any better?” 

Giyu nodded slowly. “...yes.”

“That is good,” Gyomei replied. After a moment of silence, “The others worry you may have nightmares.” 

“I don’t,” Giyu replied instantly, tightening his grip on his pajama pants. 

Gyomei studied him, and Giyu wilted slightly. 

“I mean… I do, but.. It’s not your concern,” he said softly, looking down. 

“I find that caring for others is not a concern,” Gyomei said quietly. “It is a pleasure.” 

Giyu let out a small scoff. “I think there are others that will disagree with you.” 

“Perhaps,” Gyomei said, gentle. “But it is my choice. Do you often dream of death?”

Giyu swallowed. His throat was suddenly tight. “...I don’t have much else to dream of,” he replied, words coming out slowly. 

Gyomei tilted his head, hands resting on his legs. His silence seemed to urge Giyu to continue. 

“I used to have a friend,” he admitted quietly. “He was… very kind. And very strong. He was amazing at everything.” 

“You loved him.” 

“I loved him,” Giyu admitted, looking up at the windows, the night sky full of stars. “...he was everything I wanted to be.” 

They talked, or Giyu did mostly. He hadn’t talked so much before, not to another hashira, not even to his sensei. The words flowed easily, like how a river would gush as the snow in the mountains above fed it as they melted. He talked about Sabito, how they were the same age, how Sabito was his best friend, and his family. How he loved him, even after he accidentally burned dinner when they were learning how to cook, or would get moody and yell at Giyu till they both started crying. How they went to the final Selection. How Sabito saved him, saved everyone. How Giyu woke up, alone. 

And how it wasn’t the first time he’d woken up alone. How his sister hid him in a closet, and he fell asleep covered in bloody clothes, and woke up to a dark house that smelled of iron and death. How he cried. How he was taken, and then left. 

And when he was done, he found himself somewhere else. Warmth surrounded him, his back resting against something large and solid and a hand in his hair, gently petting the mess of black he hadn’t brushed in a couple of days. He blinked, vision blurry, yet before he could raise a hand he felt Gyomei gently brush his thumb against his cheek, wiping away the cold wetness that had fallen there. 

“That was very brave,” Gyomei said quietly, voice soft. He sounded as if he had begun to cry as well. 

Giyu shook his head, swallowing thickly. 

“It is,” Gyomei said quietly. “To open a part of yourself, closed off for so long, is an act of bravery not many can achieve,” he continued, the hand in his hair slowing in it’s movements. 

“Why are you here?” Giyu whispered. It wasn’t all he meant to ask, but Gyomei seemed to understand anyway. 

“...because I care,” he replied. 

Giyu fell asleep like that. Gyomei did too, evidently, because when Giyu woke up, he was still in his arms and Shinobu was giving them both a pleased look. 

Giyu couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed, because he was comfortable and frankly, crying to sleep was exhausting. Even as Shinobu gave him a check up, that shit-eating grin on her face as she asked how he slept, he found himself unusually uncaring for her usual teasing. A sense of calm had flown over him, like a gentle blanket. 

Of course not everyone is as silently teasing as she was, but Giyu could handle the looks Tengen liked to give whenever Gyomei decided to do something especially sweet to him. Mitsuri was never quiet about how adorable they were, especially after Shinobu gave Gyomei the clear to carry Giyu from his room so the bored hashira could finally go outside, meanwhile Iguro just rolled his eyes and called them “disgustingly adorable” (as if he wasn’t also totally head over heels for the love pillar- look, Giyu might be socially awkward but not blind ).

Even if he couldn’t fight, Giyu still found himself spending time with the other hashira. Cloud watching with Muichiro while Gyomei prayed and they sat on the engwa, feet dangling over the edge because Giyu was forbidden from laying in the snow. Discussing relationships with Tengen, because he claimed himself the most knowledgeable (three wives-), and attempting to hide his fluster at every time Mitsuri would squeal once catching the two lovers alone together. Honestly, the attention was much too much for him, yet handling it with Gyomei made it… easier. 

It also made the next explanations easier, discussing the past that haunted him so and opening up to the people that once felt he was distant now found his silent presence calming rather than infuriating. And it was progress, healing the wounds of unsaid words and clinging guilt as the broken bones in his body mended and he grew stronger. 

And next year, he knocked on the wooden door of his old home, holding a small package in his hands while Gyomei stood beside him. And the door opened to that familiar room, the familiar red tengu mask, and those familiar arms around him. And they spent that holiday together.