Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful ceremony. 

In a cruel twist of irony, birds were happily chirping in the branches of the big wisteria tree overlooking the huddled bodies standing under it, the birds oblivious to the bloodshed and carnage of days prior. The weather was unusually balmy, in a stark contrast of the bitter cold of years past. Overall it was a beautiful day. 

If you ignore the fact they were all joined together that day to bury their fellow comrades and loved ones. 

Sanemi looked around him, yanking on his collar that he buttoned up all the way up for the occasion, suddenly feeling stuffy. He tried to ignore the pain shooting up his right hand and arm, He absentmindedly tried to rub the pain away only to touch the bandages wrapped around his hand and remembering his missing fingers. A lifelong reminder of his fight against Kokushibo. He glanced around and saw a handful of people in attendance. Among those, the former Sound Hashira Tengen Uzui and his wives, the younger members of the Demon Slayer Corps, Zenitsu Agutsuma, the boar boy Inosuke Hashibira and the tsuguko of the former Insect Hashira, Kanao Tsuyuri. The girls from the Butterfly Mansion managed to slip away for a moment from caring for a comatose and injured Tanjiro and Giyuu to pay their respects. 

A shock of pink hair caught the corner of his eye as he saw the Love Hashira embrace Nezuko tightly as she swayed back and forth. At first he thought she was comforting the younger girl but it became more apparent that Nezuko was the one holding her up, almost like a human crutch. The once powerful and strong Pillar looked unsteady and pained. Their size difference would almost be comical on a normal day but here, Mitsuri looked tiny in comparison, wounded and covered in bandages. She was silently shedding tears, leaving glistening tracks on her face before disappearing into the bandages covering the bottom part of her face. Her beauty marred by a map of ugly wounds. 

This isn't real, He thought, It's all a bad dream.

But he was wide awake and becoming increasingly aware this was his reality. He felt his face flush and felt like he had to gasp to breathe, his head feeling dizzy as everything was crashing around him. 

This damn collar. 

His fellow Pillars were now buried under a mountain of dirt, his closest friend, Obanai, and  countless lower ranking slayers. 

He felt like he was suffocating.

His little brother Genya. 

Or rather a few worldly possessions he had buried in his place, since his physical body turned into dust that day, crumbling away in Sanemi's hands like a demon. The grief he felt was immense, a black hole on the edge of collapsing on itself. Having to sift through his little brothers meager belongings to find what would be buried in his memory had brought him to his knees, unable to look through his things. Little knick knacks that reminded him that under Genya’s rough exterior, he was only a child. A child fighting a war he was dragged into after the death of their mother and siblings. A child who deserved to live a long life, to grow into an adult and die an old man. 

After pushing his brother away in order to save him from a cursed life, he still died. Sanemi’s cruelty hid his desperate desire to see his brother live a long life, to fall in love and have a family, to live. Pushing him away to steer him from becoming a Demon Slayer but inadvertently setting him on the path that led to his demise. His brother was gone and Sanemi was left all alone. In some ways he felt the Gods laughing in his face. Sanemi, who was ready to sacrifice and ready to die, was still alive. He had blood rushing through his veins, his heart pounding furiously. He was alive .  

He was angry. He's been angry since he was a child, it's all he ever really knew. Forced to grow up before his time, even before his family died. He felt himself hyperventilate, angry, bitter bile rising to his throat. He ripped his collar open, rubbed his face with his hands and attempted to run his fingers through his unruly hair in an effort to control his emotions. 

"Sanemi" 

He opened his eyes, hearing a soft voice calling his name. Standing in front of him was Mitsuri Kanroji. He looked her once over, taking in the pitiful sight in front of him. She looked broken, but after all the loss of the past days, who wasn't? He knew that his best friend Obanai saved her as a final act of his undying love for her, pushing her away from danger at the last moment and receiving the brute attack intended for her. 

"Are you ok? Your bandages are bleeding through" 

He looked down on his wrapped hand, crimson spots staining the white bandages. Sanemi was unsure on why he would lash out at her. Maybe she was the closest person for him to lash out on, or maybe he knew that her kind nature would be understanding of his misplaced anger.  

"Am I ok? What do you expect? My best friend and my brother are dead.", his voice ice cold. 

"Matter of fact Mitsuri, why are you crying? You never paid any mind to Obanai when he was alive. You're a hypocrite and an airhead. You don't think I'm hurting? You're not the only one with feelings! Everyone here has lost someone and yet your the only one crying." His anger bubbled over, deep down he knew she didn't deserve any of this. 

She remained silent and only angered him more. 

"He sacrificed himself for you", the words spewing hot from his mouth, "It should be you under that dirt right now." 

He was rambling now, unable to stop. That is, until he felt a sharp pain on his face. 

She slapped him. 

Chapter Text

That was months ago. The sun had set and risen many times in its place and life continued on like it always has for those blissfully unaware of the former existence of demons and The Demon Slayer Corp. For Sanemi on the other hand, it had been months of anger and angst boiling to the surface. Moments of peace were brief and he did try to move on and live a normal life but he developed a habit of going out to drink and lash out, looking for a fight. Wanting that rush of adrenaline to make him feel something, make him feel alive. 

Just like my father, he would think bitterly to himself. He always promised himself to be a different man. But it was painfully obvious they were more alike than he wanted. 

He thought about the last few months. The Corp was all he knew since he was a young teen, he felt reluctance in dropping that part of his life completely. He frequently sparred and practiced with Giyuu, surprisingly becoming friends with him, bonding over being the last two Hashira. The threat of demons was over but Sanemi couldn't be too careful, wanting to remain skillful and strong just in case.  

Maybe if he couldn't fight physical demons anymore, he would fight the ones inside of him. 

He took a sip of his sake, savoring the warmth going down his throat. He sat in a dimly lit izakaya alone, observing the scene in front of him. In contrast to his quiet solitude, the tavern was bustling with life.  Groups of drunk, boisterous people chattering and creating a ruckus, with others playing a lively round of playing cards, placing bets. 

He stared at the sake in his hands. He knew he had to do better. This wasn't sustainable, the drinking wasn't a good way to cope but he was hurting. A year ago, he felt like his life had meaning, he had people to protect. Even if he never admitted it, he had strived to rid the world of demons to give Genya a chance at a normal life, the life Sanemi would never have. 

But now Genya was gone, and Sanemi was lost. 

A loud clash and the sound of glass shattering broke Sanemi away from his thoughts. The once loud and bustling room was silent as a large bald man roughly grabbed the slender wrist of a woman. Sanemi saw red and stood up almost immediately, his chair scraping loudly on the wooden floor. 

"You Bitch!" the man growled, "Don't ignore me when I am talking to you!" he slurred out in a boozy haze, his face contorting into an angry grimace.

The woman remained silent, and this only angered the drunk even more. He yanked hard on her wrist, causing her to stumble forward into Sanemi's view. 

It all happened fast, Sanemi stood and crossed the room in what felt like two steps. Without any hesitation he struck the man in the jaw, hearing the wet crunch of bones breaking when his fist made contact with the man's jaw. 

The man fell backwards with a thud and Sanemi leaned over him, grabbing the man by his collar and lifting him up roughly. All the Hashira training had made Sanemi strong, he was treating the man like a ragdoll. The man groaned in pain, his eyes rolling over. 

"Get the fuck out of here before I kill you" Sanemi spit out, his words thick with venom. The bald man looked at the younger man's heavily scarred face and wild expression. Sanemi pushed the man away and looked at him in disgust as the man hurriedly attempted to limp away, his hand holding his broken jaw. 

The tension in the room broke, and things returned to how they were. Most of the regulars there knew Sanemi and how he was. The young man looked intimidating but he had such a strong sense of justice, the regulars knew he could take on the rowdiest patron with no issue. Most of the fights Sanemi picked were only with those causing problems. Once again, voices bounced around the tavern, with some of those yelling out words of praise for Sanemi. 

He rubbed his right hand absentmindedly, smoothing his fingers over the empty space, rubbing scar tissue. He had healed in the last few months just fine, matter-of-fact he liked to pride himself over the fact that his punches were still equally as strong as they were before. Besides, he would think to himself how lucky he was to only lose a few fingers. Others like Giyuu lost limbs. 

And of course, others like Genya lost their lives, he thought bitterly.  

He tried to push that thought away when he heard a soft voice among the loud chatter calling his name. A familiar voice. 

Sanemi?

He turned around, almost forgetting that the reason he assaulted the man was because he was being rough with a woman. 

His wild eyes met her bright green ones. She looked the same to him, maybe a little older and a little more tired than the bubbly girl he knew before. She had a faint scar running across her face, no doubt coming from that night where they lost everyone. 

"Mitsuri?" 

Chapter Text

"What are you doing? Why are you even here." 

They were sitting together, tucked away into a corner of the tavern. He glanced at her, quietly observing her face. The last time they had seen each other was at the funeral. The one where he lost his cool and went off on her and she slapped him. A brief memory of Tengen dragging him out while uttering obscenities under his breath flashed before him. Sanemi had embarrassingly broken down into a dry heaving mess in front of the former Sound Hashira, feeling  a sense of panic and distress. He thought about that day often, yet he was surprised to see her. He always thought she was an airhead but he could admit she was beautiful. The new scar across her face in a way made her more interesting to look at. 

He cleared his throat, "I mean, I don't see you as the type to come into a place like this. Did you know that man?" 

She looked at him and smiled weakly, "Maybe we don't know each other as well as we thought." 

He stared at her in silence as she continued on. 

"I am traveling the country. For what? I'm not exactly sure yet. Maybe something will point me into the right direction of where my life is supposed to go from here." She paused and took a deep sip of the sake Sanemi had given her earlier. "But to answer your question, it was becoming dark and I needed to stop and rest. I knew you were from around this area, but I didn't actually expect to run into you" 

She finished her drink, set down her cup and he refilled it. 

"No, I didn't know him. Traveling alone as a woman always has its risks. He got angry because I ignored his cat calling. But I'm fine, you  know I could have protected myself." 

Sanemi chuckled, surprising her. They never really interacted before in the past. They only really had Obanai in common. Him being Sanemi's best friend and being in love with Mitsuri, not knowing she reciprocated his feelings. The brief thought of Obanai twisted her stomach into knots. She smiled sadly. 

"I know you can. Do you remember the last time we saw each other?" 

Her eyes turned round as saucer plates. "How could I forget? I am sorry about slapping you! I am not sure what came over me." She covered her mouth delicately with her hand. 

"No, I'm sorry. I should have never said those awful things to you." He fiddled with his drink, looking down, unable to meet her gaze. "You didn't deserve that." 

She remained silent for what seemed ages. "No one deserved any of the things we went through."she replied softly. She hesitantly reached out, hand almost trembling, and held his rough calloused hand in hers.  

This unexpected action startled him, he looked up at her and at her small hand. The kind gesture made heat creep up the back of his neck, feeling strangely self conscious about his hand and its missing fingers. He didn't want or need her pity. Sanemi hadn't felt someone else's physical touch in ages, and almost as abruptly as she held his hand, he pulled away hastily as if feeling a jolt of electricity run through him. 

They both flushed at this action. She chastised herself for doing that. He never really liked her for one reason or another and she was always aware of that. But she knew he didn't mean the things he had told her months ago. She knew he wasn't as cruel as he liked to portray himself. She wasn't sure what possessed her to reach out and touch him. It just felt like she needed to, to show him he wasn't alone. 

"Would you like another drink?" he asked, motioning to her empty cup, trying to move on from the awkwardness that seeped between them.  

Silently, she moved her head up and down and he filled up her drink. Comfortable silence.  

Sanemi looked around the small tavern. Each and every one of the people in here were oblivious to the turmoil and chaos caused by demons in the past hundreds of years. And they were completely unaware that they were gone now. Life continued on for them just the same. But here they were, two former Hashira sitting together in the dim glow, drinking to forget. 

"My head feels dizzy"

Sanemi looked over at her. She had her eyes closed and had the palms of her hand resting on the table, as if she was trying to anchor herself down. He couldn't help and admit that the sight did look a bit comical.

He laughed, "Have you ever had a drink before? You could have told me if it was your first time!" He had kept on pouring her drinks since she didn't stop him, he assumed she knew her tolerance. 

"Ugh, I have before, only once. With Obanai. For his birthday." She mumbled out. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed, as if that would stop the spinning. 

"Silly girl. I bet he took care of you and made sure you didn't go overboard, even though it was HIS birthday. Am I right?" He raised an eyebrow, smirking.

She finally opened her eyes and smiled broadly, "He walked me home and everything, just to make sure I was safe." Sanemi couldn't help to think how lovely she looked when she smiled and talked about his best friend. She looked truly happy, it softened his hardened persona.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you. You're safe with me. Alright?" Sanemi felt a protective surge rise over him. Sure they rarely interacted before aside from Pillar duties, but he owed it to Obanai. 

"Thank you Sanemi'' Mitsuri replied sweetly. She always knew he wasn't the heartless man he liked to appear to others. As rough and wild as he looked, she's seen him be delicate and kind to civilians they helped before on missions, especially to children and older ladies.

The sake was finally getting to Sanemi as he felt himself blabbering on, "I'm sure you know he was completely in love with you like an idiot since the first moment he laid eyes on you. I know I was always a bit harsh to you because of that. But I knew how it felt to love someone who was also in the corps. The dangers and risks we faced on a daily basis, it was a realistic fear to lose the person you love. I may not show it, but I cared about him. I just didn't want him to ever suffer like I did with Kanae." His words were spilling out, influenced by the alcohol. 

"I really apologize for how I've treated you in the past, Mitsuri." He blurted out, his face red, a combination of alcohol flush and awkwardness. He was self aware about how much of an idiot he felt right now. 

"Sanemi I-"

"But I understand if you don-"

" Sanemi.. " She said, a little louder this time.

He managed to stop talking and looked at her. 

Fuck, he was drunk. 

She held up her sake cup, "Here's to a new friendship. New beginnings. For the both of us" 

He gently clinked his cup with her's. 

" Kanpai !"

Chapter Text

She felt a pleasurable shiver down her spine, goosebumps exploding down her arms.  

This feels..... good. 

It was a new sensation for Mitsuri. Her whole body felt warm and cozy, like she wanted to envelope everyone into a big hug. The conversations around her felt louder and she felt giddy and more talkative than normal. She glanced over at Sanemi who looked back at her with glazed over eyes and a lazy smile, his white hair even more disheveled than usual. She was aware she was drunk and Sanemi was following close behind her. 

They had talked for what felt like hours about everything under the sun. They were both the eldest of their families. Sanemi learned about her large family who lived in the city and of her cats and Mitsuri learned about how he was the only one of his family left, aside from his beloved dog. They learned they both had a sweet tooth, with Mitsuri promising him that she would make him pancakes one day to try. Sanemi promised to take her to his favorite stall that sold the best ohagi. Drunk promises but still promises.  They compared facial scars, with Sanemi assuring Mitsuri she should wear it with pride, but that it would also fade away with time, as many things do. 

Maybe they did have more in common than they thought. 

She felt a wave of loneliness inside of her, she had felt this for months but the alcohol only intensified the feeling. It came in waves, alternating between the giddiness she felt and the  yearning of a human connection. She looked around the room and saw groups of friends and lovers. She wanted to feel something. Anything. 

Her vision felt a bit fuzzy but she turned to focus again on Sanemi, who was in the middle of a funny story when once again she got the urge to reach out and touch him, or rather, she wanted to feel him. The thought overcame her, she had zoned out from the story he was telling, instead focusing on his face as he talked.  She never really noticed how... handsome he really was. He was always an intense person and that intensity showed on his face, every scar adding to his features. 

Once again she slowly reached out as he talked and held his hand gently. 

He stopped mid sentence, and instead of pulling away like the previous time, he kept his hand still. His heart was pounding in his chest, he could feel it in his throat and swore it was going to jump out of him then and there. He looked down at his large hand in hers as she traced his scars with her thumb. It felt comforting much to his surprise, he hadn't felt the touch of another person, much less a woman in ages. He looked up and caught her eyes, something about them looked different. They had darkened with emotion and looked mesmerizing to him, he couldn't look at them for too long without feeling like he would lose control. Her beauty hurt. Sanemi looked away from her. 

"I'm sorry, is this alright?" Mitsuri asked, her voice as sweet as ever, he never noticed how much he liked her voice. 

"Yes”, he managed to choke out, embarrassed that he sounded like a crackly teenage boy.

 " Ahem , I mean, yes it is." 

Sanemi snuck a look at Mitsuri once again as she looked at everyone else. Her hair looked so soft, he longed to reach out and run his hands through it. He felt dizzy but wasn't sure if he was drunk from the alcohol or drunk off of the sweet smell coming from her mane as she tossed it over her shoulder. He smelled the faint scent of sakuras. His fingers twitched as he thought about the soft curve of her cheek, how he would like to gently brush his fingertips over it and cup her face. 

What the hell was going on. 

"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt your story! Please go on!" 

"Stop apologizing so much. It's ok, I forgot what I was talking about." he replied honestly, a bit gruff. He had other things on his mind. 

A simple touch grounded him, he was overly aware of everything now. The sights around them, every person, every conversation.... her.  

The mood had shifted. She sat closer to him and he let her without complaint, maybe it was the alcohol induced false confidence of his that made him reach over and place his arm over her shoulders. They continued to converse for the sake of talking but they both weren't paying attention to any of that. The electric buzz around them felt palpable.

 Mitsuri laid her head in the crook of his neck and closed her eyes. She was tired. Sanemi's strong heartbeat was a comforting and soothing sound. The blood rushing in him reminded her that he was alive, she was alive, and here they were together. She placed a delicate hand on his chest and ran her fingers over his scars. Each scar was a story that she wanted to hear. He held her tight, afraid to let go of the warmth he felt, who knows when he would feel that again. They were deep into the night, the tavern had a few stragglers left but it was almost time to close. 

"Mitsuri..."

She looked up at him through heavily lidded eyes. His expression was hard to read. 

"Mitsuri, what are we doing?" Sanemi asked in a husky voice as he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. It was hard not to stare at her, her beauty radiated brightly, he felt like he would hurt his eyes if he looked at her for too long. 

"I don't know." She mumbled back to him. 

"I don't know." he repeated back to her. What a lie. They both knew what was happening . 

"We're both trying to feel something." she muffled into his neck, he inadvertently shivered as he felt the light kiss of her lips touching his skin, leaving a burning trail. 

"You're drunk and I'm drunk" Sanemi weakly protested. He knew what he wanted and was sure she felt the same. 

"We both stopped drinking a while ago, didn't we?" she replied.

She's right, he thought. 

"This isn't right." he stated, feeling guilt stir in his stomach. 

"I know." She felt the same way. 

"Do you want to stop?" 

"No..." he answered truthfully. He ran his fingers through her hair. It was soft and silky as he imagined it. He rested his chin on the top of her head as she melted into his arms. He held her tight, as if she were to disappear in an instant. 

Mitsuri thought about the last time she felt the touch of another person. It was the last time she saw Obanai alive. They were both heavily injured but he managed to use the last of his remaining strength to hold onto her desperately as they both fervently confessed their love for each other. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back tears. The thought of him caused her pain, she loved him to the point of madness and now she was a shell of the person she was before. She had come to peace and accepted her fate as damaged. 

And here she was now, wrapped in the arms of her beloved's best friend. She was a horrible person, fated to live in self imposed loneliness for surviving when everyone else died. Maybe the alcohol influenced her actions, or maybe she reached the point of no longer caring. Maybe someone could provide much needed warmth for her, even if it was only temporary. 

Sanemi felt the same. He felt ill, knowing he was holding on to the woman his best friend loved, but somehow he was unable to let go. He needed this. 

Sanemi planted a soft kiss on the top of Mitsuri's head and smoothed her long tresses. 

"Would you like to come to my home?" He asked her, feeling  awkward, not knowing how else to ask that. They had to leave eventually, either together or separate. It was late and he worried about were she would go 

She shook her head yes, heartbeat quickening. He was a respectful man and she knew that. The tension was thick but she knew Sanemi would never do anything she did not want to. 

"It's a short walk. I'll lead the way. Stay close ok? It can be dangerous at night with drunks stumbling about." 

They stood up and Mitsuri walked behind him when he suddenly turned around to face her. The abrupt movement startled her a bit. 

He reached out and grabbed her hand. 

She was surprised. It felt unexpected of him but she gladly held his hand. He clenched it tightly as they walked out hand in hand into the dark. 

This was wrong and they both knew it. May the Gods forgive them but they were only human. 

Chapter Text

Sanemi thought about his nameless lovers. 

The women that slipped into his bed only to leave before sunrise. Yearning souls who wanted the sweet temporary relief that came from the white haired man. A tangled mess of limbs and sweat and back arching pleasure. He didn't have to try hard, they wanted something and he had something to give. He made sure to never pry, he knew they had one reason or another to be here with him. He knew he needed them as much as they needed him. A first name basis, superficial pleasantries and desperate and rough kisses and movements in the dark, all for him to finish, roll over and sleep. This was routine and he was a creature of habit. But he couldn't help but to feel even lonelier after they left, leaving him to wake up alone in his empty home. 

He thought about Kanae

His first taste of real love. Her sweet nature dug into his hard exterior, chipping piece by piece until he completely melted into the palms of her soft hands. He let himself be vulnerable with her, something he stubbornly rejected normally, preferring to keep up his intimidating appearance up with the rest of the world. In the middle of the night he would let his mind wonder to her kind eyes and soft smile, none of the other women would ever be a replacement for her. She saw a kindness in him that he struggled to see, even to this day. She looked past his rough, rugged exterior and treated him with a softness he was never used to and he still yearned for. He didn’t realized when he came to love her, it just happened one day without much thought. Confessing his feelings to her came as natural as rain, slowly then all at once. 

He selfishly kept the memory of their first time together to himself, never daring to mention it to anyone. Not even during "Guy Talk" with the other male Hashira, he respected her too much.

They were both nervous, Sanemi could have sworn his heart was about to jump out of his chest right then and there. He had never been with a women before and he Kanae wouldn't even think about being with anyone else aside from him. He only day dreamed about this moment before. They were in love and they knew any moment could potentially be the last together. 

"Will you be mine, for this lifetime and the next, and take me as I am?"

Sanemi had whispered these words into her jet black hair, holding her in a tight embrace. The words had stumbled out of his mouth without warning. He said what he felt. 

"Yes" she replied without hesitation, pulling back as he cupped her smooth face with his rough hands and pulled her into a tender kiss. 

Yes, they were young, but Sanemi knew there wasn't anyone else he wanted than her. He needed her like a fish needed water. 

He nervously struggled with slipping her haori off, holding the thin fabric between his thick clumsy fingers. Her bell like laugh rang out as she teased him gently, telling him they had a lifetime to get better at this, he felt better, knowing she was right. 

They blushed seeing each other fully for the first time. Kanae was as beautiful has Sanemi had guiltily imagined before. Her smooth unblemished skin in stark contrast to his heavily scarred one, the roadmap of scars covering his chest, face and arms and yet she still found him... Beautiful to look it. Sanemi would always find that hard to believe, as much as she assured him.

He left a burning trails of kisses down her neck and down her chest, relishing the parts of her he had oh so longed to taste. Her soft whimpers and moans of desiree and delight encouraged him, it was like music to his ears, invigorating him and making him feel like a man. 

Hands gripped at sheets and at each other, his large hands on her soft curves, sweaty strands of hair stuck to her temple as his eyes looked at her with undying adoration. He was hers and she was his. 

He would shudder at the intensity of this memory. In heat of that moment, they did foolishly think they had the rest of their lives together.  The very real dangers of demons and death seemed faraway as they laid, limbs and souls intertwined. But they were wrong. 

She was gone now and he was alone. 

Sanemi thought about Mitsuri. 

He would be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to her, maybe it was the alcohol but something felt different. The mixture of guilt, lust and ache mixed in him, causing an uncomfortable warmth in the pit of his stomach and between his legs. He was disgusted with himself, she wasn't his to claim for the night, this was his best friend's girl. 

His best friend. The guy who he bonded with as a Hashira. The closest thing he had as a brother aside from his actual brother Genya. Sanemi knew how Obanai felt about her, hell everyone knew. It seemed apparent to everyone except the actual object of his affections, the Love Hashira. Back then, Sanemi knew he was mildly annoyed about how much of an airhead she seemed to be and how much she put his best friend in a tizzy, but he could admit she did have some qualities to admire.  

He respected her. After everything they have been through, everything he said to her in anger, she was still kind. Her emotional strength was on par with her impressive physical strength. 

But as strong as Sanemi knew they both were, it just wasn't enough, they both looked for things to numb the sadness. Sanemi with alcohol and women and Mitsuri by escaping, not tying herself down to one location, as if she was trying to outpace the loneliness creeping on the heels of her feet behind her. And now they were trying to replace the pain with temporary pleasure.

 But maybe there was comfort in familiarity. They had their past encounters but the universe placed them together tonight. Who else would know the depths of their feelings? They were oblivious to the sacrifices made to save humankind from demons. The sacrifices that left everlasting emotional scars to accompany the physical ones they now carried on their bodies. 

It wasn't spoken out loud but by body language. Earlier in the tavern, her heavily lidded eyes shone with a quiet want and he felt a burning trail left on his skin when she gingerly traced the outline of his scars, aching to touch her back, only if she allowed it. He couldn't help but to think of her full pink lips and imagine the sweet sounds that would come out of it, what he could do to make her forget, at least for the night.

His hungry eyes eagerly took her in earlier but now he felt his mouth dry. He felt a wave of guilt turn his stomach. The tension was palpable. But beneath that tension, something small was budding. 

He hoped to see her in the morning when he woke up.

Chapter Text

The walk home had been a quiet one, Sanemi had clenched Mitsuri's hand tightly, in equal parts nervousness and excitement. The night was a pleasant one, the cool stillness of the night was a welcomed relief from the alcohol induced flush. Sanemi snuck a glance at her, the rosy hue of her cheeks looked endearing to him. He looked away when Mitsuri caught his eyes looking at her and smiled at him. 

There was everything yet nothing to say. She quietly hummed a familiar tune that he couldn't quite place and absentmindedly rubbed her fingers over the empty space of his missing fingers. The light of a full moon and stars illuminated their rocky path to his home. 

A brief memory flashed in his head, remembering why the humming felt so familiar. He thought about his mother, and how after his father died, he would accompany her home from whatever odd job she  picked up. Sanemi didn't want her to walk home alone and oftentimes she would leave work late at night, similar to the night sky he was currently walking under. His exhausted mother, bless her, would always tell him how much she appreciated him and he would help carry her supplies home. She would hum the same tune as they walked home, with young Sanemi being ever alert and protective, making sure she was safe. 

A sharp tug to his arm snapped him from this thought, as the pink haired girl almost stumbled over a rock, with Sanemi pulling her up just in time and into his arms. He held her close to him, and gazed down at her. 

"Thanks" She said embarrassed. 

"Be careful" he replied back gruffly, grabbing her hand and resuming their walk to his home. 

She knew he could be a man of few words but she knew he cared. Even if Sanemi didn't want to admit it, Mitsuri knew he was soft hearted. She heard stories about him from Obanai and the other Hashira. He was the type to stop what he was doing to help a grandmother carry her heavy loads, despite his scary appearance. 

Talking to him tonight just reinforced that feeling in her. He was kind, even if he didn't think he was. He was deserving of kindness, even if he felt he wasn't. 

"We're almost there." he spoke out into darkness, "I have an extra futon if you want to sleep and rest, I'm sure your tired" 

But she wasn't and he wasn't either. The adrenaline rushed between the both of them. 

"After you" Sanemi motioned to her, as she walked first into the darkness of his home. He reached over to light a gas lamp, illuminating enough to let her see around. Mitsuri glanced around his home, it was spacious and open with a few sparse decorations and furniture. She gingerly picked up a picture frame from a side table  in his living room. The brushed metal frame was weathered and felt heavy in her hands and it held a black and white photo of a family. She looked over the photo, thinking that it must be important if he had it in his home. The family looked happy, 7 children lined up from shortest to tallest with a small woman at the end of the line, Mitsuri thought she had kind eyes and a lovely smooth face. Mitsuri's focused on the last two children in the row, they looked familiar. 

The oldest had a shock of white hair and his arm around the shoulders of the slightly shorter dark haired boy next to him sporting a mohawk with shaved sides. They both had large beaming smiles and her heart softened as she recognized this as Sanemi and his younger brother Genya. The lack of scars on the smooth canvas of their skin accentuating their youth. 

"It's the only picture i have of them." Sanemi softly spoke out from the shadows of the dimly lit room as he stood observing her. She could see the glow of the lamp dancing on his face, illuminating the look of sorrow on his face. 

"Somedays I just sit and look at it and try to memorize everything. I'm afraid I'm going to forget how they looked one day. I already have a hard time remembering my mothers voice." Sanemi confessed to her, never telling that to anyone before. 

Mitsuri placed the frame down gently with a soft thud. The strong hard headed man she knew suddenly looked as small as the child in the photo, sadness radiating off of him. She walked to him and grabbed his hand and pulled him into a wordless embrace, his height towering over her but feeling his body relax into hers as if he was the small boy in the photo as she rubbed his back in comforting circles. 

Growing up the oldest of five children made her a natural caretaker, helping her mother take care of the younger ones. Long gone were the days of kissing scraped knees and tucking children into bed, she couldn't imagine losing one sibling, much less all of them like Sanemi did. Her heart hurt for him and she held him in her arms, she couldn't just make the pain go away with a kiss, all his wounds were inside of him. All she could do was hold his tired body and broken soul.

"We were happy here." 

"I know."  she muttered soothingly against his chest.               

"Will I ever be happy again?" he questioned, his voice strained. 

"I don't know. I wonder the same thing."  Mitsuri admitted. She thought about the same thing often.

Sanemi pulled away slightly and looked down at her, and brushed a lock of hair away from her face and cupped her check. She flushed a shade of pink at the sudden touch and looked back at him with her big green eyes. 

Oh how lovely those eyes looked. 

Sanemi held her face with a featherlight touch, almost afraid to hurt her with what he thought was his big clumsy hands. His eyes looked into hers, his gaze moving down to her full pink lips, how he ached to kiss them. That would make him happy. 

So he did. 

He fell into his desire at last, held her face and leaned down slowly, thinking in the back of his mind that she would pull away. 

But she didn't. 

She fell into him, feeling an electric jolt flow through the both of them as their lips touched. The build up of the entire evening finally unleashing and spilling over. She tasted as sweet as he imagined, maybe even better. 

Mitsuri deepened the kiss, running a hand through his tangled, wild hair and kissing Sanemi with an intensity that surprised him. She had not felt anything like this in months. His lips were such a surprise to her, as rough and tough as he looked, his lips were pleasantly smooth and soft.  She bit his lip slowly, he felt a delicious pain. 

Guilt flashed for a brief second before him. 

"We aren't supposed to be doing this." He pulled away slowly and muttered against her ear. 

"I know" she breathed out, feeling chills down her spine. 

"But I don't want to stop" he mumbled as he traveled to the crook of her neck, placing hot kisses down her neck, her pulse practically bounding from her skin. 

"Then don't"  she said, feeling as if his kisses singed her skin from the intensity. 

"I want you." he groaned, biting her neck gently, lapping his tongue over the pulse point on her neck. " I need you "  he reiterated. 

"Then have me" she whimpered out, feeling like her knees would buckle. 

He pulled back and looked at her, her eyes full of want. 

This was different from everything before. She wasn't just some nameless girl for the night like the others. She was like him, lonely and needing to feel something in this quiet existence. One of the only other people who knew exactly what he felt. 

He grabbed her hand and led her deeper into the darkness of his home. 

Chapter Text

Sanemi considered himself a simple man. 

Funny enough, he knew of his reputation with everyone. An explosive temperament and attitude to match. At one point it was a point of pride for him. As a Hashira, he enjoyed the trepidation the newer recruits had towards him. As if dealing with demons was terrifying enough, having to deal with an angry and annoyed Shinazagawa was even worse. 

But she was never afraid of him. 

Even before, it ashames him to even think about it now, She was just Obanai’s annoying friend. He felt her laughter was grating to his ears, the positivity pouring out of her, was  like sunlight to his thunder, and he hated it. Or maybe he hated how it made him feel. Like he wasn't the big bad wolf everyone made him out to be. In some ways, it reminded him of Kanae.

She'd smile at him like she knew him. The real Sanemi. The one who liked ohagi and kept it a secret, the one who practiced his kanji, painstakingly tracing over characters like a small child would. Like she saw through all the barbed wire he'd wrapped around himself. He used to bark at her, insult her, even ignore her outright, much to Obanai’s protests. But she never flinched. Never stopped smiling.

"You bark a lot, Shinazugawa, but you never bite," she'd said once, tossing him a rice ball on a long patrol together in the mountains. Much to his chagrin, he got the short end of the stick and was assigned to work with her. Obanai was furious . He could imagine the fumes coming out of his ears.

 "You're all smoke and no fire."

He'd thrown it back at her, surprised she finally responded with a quip of her own. And then sulked the rest of the day, tending to the lackluster fire he had ignited with green wood, the white smoke billowing in his face. Maybe it could hid the redness spreading slowly across his scarred cheeks. 

He’d scoff when she entered the room, all pink and green hair and honeyed, sweet words, trailing behind Obanai like a butterfly that hadn’t yet noticed the fire it was dancing too close to. The danger of singeing its wings ever present. 

“You’re too loud,” he’d mutter under his breath, shooting annoyed glances at Obanai, with the latter smiling sheepishly, the scarred ends of his mouth peeking over his bandages.

“And you’re too quiet,” she’d chirp back, not missing a beat. Always smiling. Always too close for comfort.

He hated how she laughed even when he was cruel. Hated how she never looked at him with fear — like everyone else did with him. It made him feel exposed. Human. Unable to get under her skin. 

He didn’t want her to look at him like that. He didn’t want her to look at him at all.

But, at this moment, that's all he wanted. 

Oh Obanai, you would kill me right now. 

He wanted to see her in the quiet — the way she looked when the world wasn’t watching. The way she looked at him , when she thought he didn’t notice. She was just Obanai’s annoying friend.

And gods, he hated her for that.

Or maybe he hated himself for needing it.

Now, there were clouds darkening her sunny skies. She wasn’t the same, naive girl from before. Here stood a scarred woman, with a maturity that only came from the metamorphosis of losing bits and pieces of yourself. 

In his room, he relished in the sweet smell of her hair, the scent wafting in intoxicated waves. The gas lantern he fumbled around with nervously to ignite illuminated the soft curve of her face. Not as plump and smooth as before but even more beautiful than he could remember. He cupped her face with his rough hand. His missing fingers were awkwardly apparent to him, he shifted his feet. Everything felt perfect until now. Sanemi was a proud man. The loss of his fingers were a point of contention for him. A sore spot. Nothing he really dwelled on but at this moment, it made him feel weak. 

She sensed his hesitation, turning her head ever so slightly and placing a kiss in the palm of his hand.

“You’re too quiet,” she mumbles, closing her green eyes. Those green eyes that reminded him of the bamboo shoots sprouting from the hills surrounding his home. Green, the color of rebirth and growth. The color of his breathing.  

Maybe he wasn’t so simple after all