Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘Giyuu, remember. You are the Water Hashira first and foremost.’

I am not, he retorted in response to Urokodaki’s handwriting.

‘A pillar that supports the Demon Slayer Corp cannot be unstable. Even as your comrades fall around you, you must not be swayed by regret. That is why you must take care of yourself.’

“You’re a Hashira. You have to take care of yourself!”

As Giyuu was turning to leave the hospital, he looked back over his shoulder to Shinobu, the young Insect Breath user who had accessed his injuries and prescribed medicine. She had only stopped in here or there between checking on other patients and training in the Butterfly Mansion dojo.

He replied, “It’s because I’m a Hashira that I have to go.”

She stared back with intensity, the longest Giyuu could remember looking anyone in the eye for a while. “Fine,” she relented. “I understand, my sister would say the same. Just remember to keep the bandages clean and take the full dose of medicine.”

Being let go so quickly made him feel he missed a step. Having overheard her take a stricter tone with other patients, he fully expected she’d speak to him longer than that.

She had a reputation for climbing the ranks quickly, despite her diminutive stature. Maybe if she were a Water Breath user she would be able to cut the heads off of demons, but otherwise, it seemed unlikely for someone of her size. Even with special training from the Flower Hashira, a swordsman like her probably got by on gumption. That was the sort of swordsman not swayed by regret.

Urokodaki did not need to worry about that with Giyuu. Hashira or not, he would not waver. He was accustomed to regret.

“Ara, Tomioka-san was here?” asked Kanae. “I didn’t have a chance to say hello.”

“You don’t have to, Neesan. You’re busy with your own missions.”

“Hashira go on joint missions sometimes, too. I’d like to get along with him. Since we’re all the same age, it’d be nice if he and Shinazugawa-san got along as well.”

“You make it sound like you’re all in a merry little club. I’ll bet Himejima-san would say you’re being distractable.”

“You wouldn’t really get it looking in from the outside. Being a Hashira becomes the core of your being, but there’s more to being human than that.”

“Tomioka-san doesn’t seem to think so.”

“I’m sure there’s more to him than that.”

“Do you like him, Neesan?”

“No, not at all!”

Kanae froze and turned red after blurting an answer out too fast, which was what caught Shinobu’s attention. “You mean, you do like him?”

“No, I meant not like that!”

“Then you don't like him?”

“I don’t dislike him. He’s an important comrade. But the way you asked, it made it sound like asking if I liked him.”

“What difference does that make?” Shinobu grimaced at her.

“There’s a difference! I could like someone, you know.”

She kept grimacing. “…”

“I’m a Hashira, but I’m human, Shinobu. Ever since we were little girls, I dreamed of when we’d both grow up and get married. I still dream about it. Wouldn’t it be nice, Shinobu? To have a confidante, a comfort… your own pillar of support?”

“I don’t need that,” answered Shinobu. She was certain of that, for without knowing it, she felt she already had enough. All the support she needed was the promise she and her sister shared.

Still, the conversation would ring back through her mind at later days and make her feel uneasy. Had Kanae said that because she did not want to be a Hashira anymore? It didn’t seem like her to have such an irresponsible attitude—she took her Hashira duties more seriously than anyone, Shinobu was certain of that. Still, there was a bittersweet fondness in Kanae’s voice when she spoke of brides or Kanao finding a special boy, and a soft sadness in her eyes as they passed by mothers with babies. Kanae had to have known that she could not have it all.

The more signs she saw of it, the more normal it felt. Shinobu paid less and less attention to the hints of Kanae’s yearning. For as much as Kanae mentioned Shinazugawa—her special Hashira-confidante, if it was so special to her to have one—Shinobu sometimes suspected there might be more going on in their friendship than Kanae let on. If there was, she was terrible at hiding it, so maybe it was nothing after all.

Still, Shinobu realized one day, she sort of hoped for Kanae’s sake that there was.

Once Kanae was gone, Shinobu forgot about that hope for years, for all at once, every promise, hope, and dream she ever held for Kanae was dashed.

It only came back to mind the day Shinobu accepted the title of 'Hashira.'

“What is it, Shinobu?”

“No, nothing,” she smilingly replied to her master, Ubuyashiki Kagaya. “I was only thinking of something my sister said once.”

“I would love to hear Kanae’s thoughts, if you don’t mind sharing.”

“She wanted me to give up fighting demons and know the pleasures of being married instead.”

“Did she?”

“It was as she was dying… but she relented, and in her final moments, she told me about the Upper Moon who killed her.”

“Then she gave her consent for you to take the role of a Hashira and avenge her.”

“Essentially. I will do my utmost to live up to her example and fill her role.”

“As much as I would love one, I don’t need another Kanae. I need a Shinobu. You will make a fine Insect Hashira, and I am already very proud of you. I should correct you, though.”

“On what, might I ask?”

“It is indeed possible to be married and to fight demons.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to say you couldn’t. I am well aware that you and Amane-sama do your utmost.”

His voice sounded like a warm chuckle, though it went on in the usual even keel. “I’m afraid I cannot measure up to your use of a sword, whether I use poison or not. There have been many married Hashira before. One of them even has three wives.”

“Well, yes, but it’s a bit different for a woman. It could take time away from my missions.”

“With the faith I place in you all, I would welcome any of my children’s wishes to have a partner,” he smiled.

“A pillar of support,” she finished with Kanae’s words. “Well, I will take that to heart, but I have my Hashira missions to focus on. As well as the hospital, and my research—I’m really far too busy to even think of such things.”

But, think of it she did.

Only someone who could understand her role as a Hashira would be suitable. She had met most of the other Hashira before. All men, except for her, and almost entirely ineligible anyway—Himejima was out of the question, as were the Sound and Flame Pillars, and there was too much entanglement in the case of Shinazugawa, whom would not be her taste anyway. That left the quiet Water Hashira, always on his own. Perhaps he already had someone? It would be impossible to tell without talking to him more.

At most, he was but a curiosity, and Shinobu always forgot about the question of marriage as quickly as the thought crossed her mind. It too was but a curiosity.

Shinobu, back when she was a Kinoe, left a different impression on Giyuu than before.

“Ara, is that you, Tomioka-san?” she had addressed him.

The voice was familiar. A manner of speech similar to Kanae’s, but not at all her voice. When he turned around, he recognized Shinobu by her eyes. “Kochou?”

“It is! Same as always, all by yourself. Don’t your missions ever get lonely?”

“…” he failed to reply, for he was busy questioning why she had changed so much from the stern, down-to-earth tone she used to take when she was younger.

“It must be busy with so few Hashira. Sooner or later, I’ll be likely to join you. Just a few demons to go.”

“Don’t make it sound so easy.”

“Of course not. I don’t get sent after the easy demons anymore, you know.”

Maybe she lost her mind after losing her sister? Not that he could blame her. He wasn’t much younger than her when he lost his own sister, and he outright wanted to die. Maybe he should say something to express sympathy? After all this time, though, would it be odd? He must have missed his chance.

“Tomioka-san?”

“What?”

“You weren’t saying anything.”

“Should I have?”

“You don’t have to. I was simply making small talk.”

“Then there was nothing to say.”

“It was pleasant conversation. You should try it sometime.”

“I have a mission to get to,” he said and turned away. She had called after him that she’d see him soon, and he advised her to not take it lightly. After all, he felt that the way she imitated Kanae had a mocking tone to it. He couldn’t imagine trying to carry on the image of the dead.

A moment later, he became aware of the texture and weight of his haori, and his stomach twisted.

When he later heard the news that Shinobu was promoted to Insect Hashira, he felt a twinge in his gut that he should apologize. For what, though? For thinking badly of her for a moment? If he had not said anything, then apologizing would be as strange as belatedly expressing condolences about her sister. It wouldn’t mean anything now for a Hashira, for a Hashira could never be swayed by regret.

“Tomioka-san! Not a very long time no see, is it? Now that we’re both Hashira, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other. Let’s get along and do our best.”

“…”

Doing their best was obvious. She really thought lightly of this, didn’t she?

“Tomioka-sa-a-a-n? Hello?”

“Whatever happened to the girl who sternly tended my injuries and prescribed me medicine?”

A look of surprise washed over Shinobu’s face, and for a blessed second, she was quiet. Then she smiled, wider than the tight lips she usually kept on her nowadays placid face. “You remember me from back then?”

“You seemed more serious.”

“You think I’m not serious now?” she sing-songed back to the light and airy voice she used in imitation of her sister. “I’m still very serious. As much about medicine as I am about slaying demons. But I know how to be a human, too.”

“It’s clear you’re not a demon.”

“Oh, a sense of humor. That’s a discovery. You wouldn’t befriend me if I were a demon, would you?”

“Of course not.”

“Wouldn’t that be nicer for everyone, though? It’s my dream to befriend demons.”

“Now you’re poisoning her words.”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t mean any of your sister’s words. Stop playing around if you’re going to honor her memory as a Hashira.”

“Tomioka-san,” she said, but then nothing followed. Giyuu listened for her retort, but when there wasn’t one, he left.

Shinobu was left shaken. Perhaps she had come across too cheeky. Maybe Kanae never sounded as bubbly around the other Hashira as she did while home at the Butterfly Mansion? No, Kanae was certain to be herself anywhere. Even with the bubbly demeanor, Giyuu had a proper understanding of Kanae, and a good dose of respect for her. Shinazugawa and Himejima did too, but it was a surprise to find that from such a quiet colleague. It made Shinobu more and more curious.

“Tomioka-san! Fancy seeing you here!”

“Kochou.”

“Were you on your way to lunch? I just finished my shopping. It takes a while to find all the drug components.”

“I finished.”

“Oh? I see. Maybe I’ll join you next time. What did you eat? Anything good?”

“Simmered salmon and daikon.”

“That does sound tasty. Where?”

“A restaurant.”

“That… is not very conducive to a conversation, Tomioka-san. Or to my lunch.”

“…”

“You aren’t very good at conversation, you know that?”

“You’re talkative.”

“Maybe you’re just cold. Go ahead, Tomioka-san. It’s alright to be human sometimes.”

Perhaps she went to too far, but the next time they met, she assured herself that she was more than right about him. His poor communication got him tied up like a criminal in the middle of the day, after all.

“Look! It’s the guy who murdered that charcoal farming family!”

“He’s got a half-and-half haori, just like they said the suspect was wearing!”

“Ahh! No wonder I thought he was suspicious!”

“No. I’m a demon slayer.”

“Get the ropes!”

For being her senior, he was truly helpless. Since he was stuck, after all, she rubbed in his helplessness with a poke.

“To-mi-o-ka-san~!”

From there, she did the talking, for it was clear he wasn’t handling anything. After getting Giyuu out of that immediate mess, she followed him to where they brought a feverish girl who likely knew something about a demon prowling the area. As it was all a matter of conversational arts, Shinobu later treated the girl and gathered information while Tomioka distracted the hunting dog outside. He was rather useless, she thought, until the girl tried to leave on her own, and he stepped in.

“Why are you going to the mountains alone to avenge someone?” he asked. “Are you hiding something from us?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Shinobu until he said that. The demon Shinobu had just spoken so roughly of might very well have been that girl’s father. How insensitive—and from someone who always said how she wanted to befriend demons?

Giyuu had always seen through her hollow words better than she thought.

It was a narrow victory, only thanks to how fast Shinobu saved the girl from her own rifle. It wasn’t as if Giyuu didn’t sympathize with the girl’s grief, so he made sure to give her closure on the demon, her father. “His message was likely meant for you: Live.”

He left the bereaved girl with that, but by the ache on Shinobu’s usually placid face, it seemed she felt unsettled. “Tomioka-san…”

“Don’t forget, Kochou. We’re Hashira.”

After a moment of silence, he heard her take a tone bereft of fake cheer. “Yae-san, please bear with your feelings. That’s how we pulled through as well.”

Some of the ire he felt toward Shinobu and her frivolous attitude dissipated. Once again, he chided himself for misjudging her. Her fake cheer and talkativeness must have been how she kept herself from being swayed under the weight of her position. She was a Hashira, first and foremost.

“Tomioka-san, you sure have changed,” she slurped a hot bowl of soba next to him.

Some of the ire came back.

“…How so?”

“Hmm… it’s hard to say. Here I thought you were cold to the bone, but your words… you worried about her in your own way, huh?”

She chewed the mouthful, a bit more than she thought she had slurped off. She peered at him, and even in the low light of the restaurant her eyes had a silvery sheen. She held his eyes a moment before continuing, “You can tell me what you really think. Did something happen that gave you a change of heart?”

It was not a change of heart. He was unwavering and would never have that.

He had very recently had a change of action, though. A judgement he had never made, and he still felt shook that he made that choice. A gamble on that boy was one thing, but betting his whole life on the boy’s sister was an unthinkable matter.

Him? Put faith in a demon?

It was a good thing he was never a true Hashira in the first place, lest his choice smear the Water Hashira position.

And Shinobu? For all her lying, coy words about befriending demons, how would she take such a choice? Her eyes beckoned him on. He had the sense she would listen, and somewhere in his heart, he wanted to tell her. The mission they just finished together gave him a better sense of how seriously she took her new position, though. Telling her such a thing would break her trust, and worse, she could still catch up to that boy and his sister long before they reached Mt. Sagiri.

This new colleague was smart, and if she kept staring at him that way, Giyuu had the feeling she’d stare right into every secret she always tried to pry out of him.

He decided to speak up. “Even if something did happen, my heart will never waver. We are the strongest swordsmen in the Corp, the literal pillars of the demon slayers. This is why we will never forget who we wield our swords for, and who we are protecting. To carry the weight of all this, we Hashira must act as the pillars we are.”

“That’s a befuddling statement,” she concurred. There had to have been more he wasn’t saying, and she wanted badly to know what it was. The more time she spent with Giyuu, the worse he was for her curiosity. “It seems you live a difficult life, but I suppose that’s a good sign.”

Whatever it was it wouldn’t say, Giyuu would not waver or crumble. He was as true a Hashira as Shinobu hoped to be. A pillar of support. A partner. If there was one thing she could tell, it was that Giyuu had no confidante. His lack of conversation skill made that obvious enough, but the way he clumsily hid that something had affected him recently was the reason that stuck out to her more.

“You can tell me—”

“Here’s your simmered salmon and daikon, coming right up!”

Her eyes went to the piping hot bowl set in front of him. “Wow, that looks good!” she remarked. “Tomioka-san, you really like simmered salmon and daikon, don’t you—”

She looked up and saw the face of someone she did not know. It was unnerving how much he looked like Giyuu, yet not. Who in the world over the age of ten had such a childlike innocence in their features? It simply wasn’t right.

“What?”

“No, just… this is the first time I’ve seen you smile, Tomioka-san. Would you mind… can you face the other way, away from me? I’m sorry…”

“………”

It especially wasn’t right on Giyuu.

That face burned its way into her memories, and for the next few days, every time she closed her eyes she saw it again. It made her stomach turn. She thought she might also be gassy too, and made a mental checklist of what ingredients to medicate herself with, but then she heard giggles.

Her own giggles?

Startled, she put her fingers over her lips. Her cheeks flushed, and she had to wonder why. It was only that disturbing sight of Giyuu’s bright-as-sunshine smile burned into her retinas, so why?

Of course! Because she knew something now about Giyuu that no one else did.

It was funny, and she burned with curiosity. Or, possibly heartburn.

2025/05/21 UPDATE: Clearly my most popular fic ever. Thank you all! It is an honor! Some art by me:

2024/07/27 UPDATE: FANART ALERT!! Thank you so much, Yuki2sksksk, I love it so much!! There are a couple other pieces for upcoming chapters, too. <3 (Please reblog the original Tumblr post here, including the lovely textless version.)

Chapter Text

“Tomioka-san. Tomioka-san!”

“What?”

“You’re so quiet. In all this time we haven’t seen each other, you haven’t gotten any better at conversation.”

“You haven’t changed. Take this seriously.”

“I’m as serious as they come. I’m a Hashira.”

“Then don’t be so distracting.”

“You’re the one being distracted. Doesn’t that say more about your Hashira caliber?”

His face pulled tight with a scoff he didn’t let out. Shinobu saw through him too easily. “Focus on the mission,” he grumbled back. “Did you cover the ground to the east?”

“I sent my Tsuguko.”

“I see. Two people will get it done swiftly.”

The air changed like a drop before a storm, and with it, Shinobu’s tone of voice. “No, Tomioka-san, actually… I lost one, recently.”

“…I see.”

He never had a Tsuguko. Would it be strange to offer condolences? Still, Shinobu had wasted no time in raising a successor, something that many of the other Hashira kept finding excuses not to do, especially since anyone potential Tsuguko usually found a mountain of excuses to back out. He thought to mention it as a compliment that she bothered, but not so soon after hearing that one had died. By the tone of Shinobu’s voice and lack of a smile, there was no mistaking this was how the loss happened.

They made short work of the demon once they closed in on it, and a young girl with a butterfly hairpiece on the side of her head came running to catch up long after the battle was over. Shinobu gave the girl firm and clear instructors, all while keeping that light and sweet voice. A distinct difference from how Shinobu had ordered Giyuu to take care of his injuries all those years ago. Was she taking care of herself?

“Kochou?”

“Yes?” she replied, facing him. Her eyes glimmered, but they looked hazy and tired.

“Remember. We’re unwavering.”

“I know, Tomioka-san. We’re Hashira.”

“Do you have regrets?”

Her eyes flashed wider. “About what?”

“Anything,” he replied, not wanting to be so direct about a recently deceased pupil.

“I do wish I could have saved my other girl,” she said, and then her lips twitched like they meant to say more. She quickly remastered her expression and continued speaking smoothly. “Medicine is my thing, you know? It hurt my pride a bit to lose her. But taking down the demon was my priority.”

“As a demon slayer, it was her responsibility to save herself. Not yours.”

“They go so quick, don’t they? Have you ever had a Tsuguko, Tomioka-san?”

He had not. He thought to mention something, but his mouth hung open.

“Tomioka-san?”

“I had an elder sister.”

“Ara,” her brows raised as much as her eyes did. “Oh, my. I take it that it was a demon?”

“Yes.”

“No wonder you hate them. That’s very understandable.”

“This…”

This half of my haori was her kimono. She gave her life for mine. I wanted to die when I lost her.

All things he thought, but could not say. His mouth went dry, and Shinobu looked away, in the direction her Tsuguko went off. “I should go. There’s still a lot to do before we can get to our training for today.”

“Right.”

“Tomioka-san.”

He felt the approach of her fingers and he braced to be poked, but instead, she softly tugged on the maroon side of his haori. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad you remember my sister, too.”

“Tsutako. My sister’s name was Tsutako.”

“It’s pretty. I’ll remember that.”

Obviously tired, more obvious than it should be for a Hashira, she let go and began her long walk home. Giyuu had nowhere to be. Even if he went home to train or sleep, no one would be waiting for him. He could help her as far as the Butterfly Mansion, hold her up if she felt woozy.

But that was entirely unnecessary, and an insult to her pride.

“Hey, Tomioka-san. Tomioka-san! Hey!” she poked and prodded. “You know what’s been bugging me?”

“I don’t. And stop it.”

“I figured out what one side of your haori must mean. But what about the other one? Who’s that? Did you have an older brother?”

“Kochou.”

“A memento from a father figure, perhaps?”

“I don’t need any other father figure.”

“Because your cultivator is like one, I bet! I heard about him too, the former Water Hashira who wore a tengu mask all the time, right? He sure didn’t teach you conversation skills.”

“Kochou.”

“How’d your parents die? Was it the same demon? That’s no secret about my parents and how my sister and I became acquainted with Himejima-san.”

“They were sick. I was still very young.”

“Oh, dear! With what? My parents were pharmacists, they might have been able to treat them. We were in the Takinogawa neighborhood.”

“…I was in the Nogata neighborhood.”

“What? My, that’s only a stone’s throw away! What a coincidence!”

“It’s no coincidence. The progenitor of demons is most active in the Kantou region. That’s why more demon attacks happen here.”

“Which side of your haori is from your sister? In my case it’s so obvious that there’s no fun in guessing.”

“Kochou, knock it off. Don’t you have a Tsuguko to go train?”

At this, Shinobu quieted, and she kept her hands to herself. “I’m sorry. I was pushing too hard to make conversation, wasn’t I? It’s not like you give me much choice.”

“You can choose to be quiet.”

“I was choosing to be kind to you.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Neither do I. I just thought it would be nice. If it’s not, then I’ll stop.”

“Thank you.”

“Good day, then.”

By the tone of her voice, the twinge his gut yelled at him to apologize. “Ko—” he turned, but she had made a clean getaway by hoping a fence and rooftop.

I lost my chance with her, he thought. As he put a hand to his forehead, he realized that this was not the first time he thought this. Had he been looking for chances? Had he squandered them? Shinobu was as swift and lightfooted in her dealings as she was in her Breath technique. It was like if Giyuu tried to hold her in his hand, she’s slip right out.

But why should that bother him? They were nothing but colleagues. Nothing but, as he always told her—lied to her—fellow Hashira.

Another mission together. It made sense; they worked together enough that they could wordlessly cooperate. Then again, Giyuu’s Water Breath technique was so refined that he could adjust to anyone.

Maybe he didn’t need so many words, then.

She was cordial with him, and careful not to say too much. Curiosity still got the best of her and made her observant. Where Shinazugawa might tell the other Corp members to get out of the way, Giyuu merely stood in front of them, so quiet and swiftly that the other swordsmen, so distracted by giving their all, likely could not tell they were being protected. Sometimes, she pondered, it was kinder not to say anything at all.

So Shinobu held back.

Word spread if Giyuu was listening for it. Not only a second, but a third Tsuguko of the Insect Hashira, dead.

He remembered the tired look in her eyes. She put herself through so much to try to raise the next generation of Hashira to support the Corp, and what did Giyuu do? Just send a boy to Urokodaki to train and take all the responsibility away.

If all he did was occupy an empty seat, the least he could do was try to support those holding up the Corp. Not that he had a place in this Corp anyway. He could never measure up to someone like her.

Shinobu… didn’t talk to him anymore, though. She would probably like a chance to talk, since she was naturally talkative.

He found himself taking walks around the path to the Butterfly Mansion. Going out of his way to do his shopping in the nearby markets when he had the time. Just a glimpse to see if she was chipper would make him feel more settled. After all, a Hashira could not afford to waver. The Corp could not afford her to be anything else than herself.

“Water Hashira-sama?”

He turned around at the sound of a different girl’s voice. She was a girl with hair bound in two butterfly pins, and an arm full of groceries.

“You’re one of the girls at the hospital.”

“I thought that might be you. I haven’t seen that haori for a while. If you have business with Shinobu-sama…”

“Is she well?”

“Is she well?” the girl’s blue eyes flashed wider. “I mean—that is—she hasn’t said anything about not being well…”

She has no confidante.

“Is she around?”

There’s no one to give her support.

“She’s still finishing up in town.”

She’ll sway.

Giyuu took off running toward the market. For as small as she was, Shinobu was easy to spot, both by her haori and the hair pieces she and one of the other girls of her mansion wore. He watched her a moment, and how delicately she spoke to the other girl, as though she might break her with too harsh a word. Shinobu could not even speak freely in her own home, protecting those orphans like a shield, like the shadow of the protector they used to know. It was like Shinobu spread the haori across them and left no shield for herself.

She was small, though. She could fit in that shadow Kanae left behind.

But she was a Hashira. She didn’t need it.

She didn’t need him either.

“Aa—ara!! Tomioka-san!” her voice broke his thoughts. Her eyes glimmered more than usual with how wide they went at the sight of him. “What brings you out here? Are you injured?”

“…”

“Poison, perhaps?”

“…”

“Doesn’t seem to be affecting you, you’re as bad at conversation as always. Kanao? Take these home. I’ll follow once I’ve examined Tomioka-san.”

The girl with the pink and green hair piece—like Kanae’s, if Giyuu remembered correctly—bowed her head and departed. That left Shinobu facing him alone with a placid and expectant smile. Her eyes had already dimmed.

“Well? Is something the matter, Tomioka-san? I’ll listen.”

“I’ll listen.”

“Hm?”

“Someone who isn’t a Hashira wouldn’t get it. You can speak freely.”

“What is this, all of a sudden? It’s not as if I can speak freely to someone who won’t speak freely back.”

“I won’t speak if I’m pestered.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now? Pestering? This is why no one--”

“Is it pestering?”

She paused, then answered lowly, “No. It’s not.”

“I’ll listen,” he repeated.

The weariness all surfaced at once to Shinobu’s face. “You have bad timing. I was holding myself together here in a busy place like this. I know what you’ll say—a Hashira always has to hold it together. Can’t let anyone see a pillar wobble. Let’s take a walk.”

One of the times she really didn’t feel like talking, and Giyuu had the gall to show up. Rude of him to make her do all the talking, too. He couldn’t even be nice and friendly about coaxing it out of her, like Kanae always did. But then again, Shinobu heard less and less of Kanae’s woes and yearnings once she became the Flower Hashira. Shinobu understand that now, how Kanae wouldn’t want to burden her with things she wouldn’t understand.

‘Wouldn’t it be nice, Shinobu? To have a confidante, a comfort… your own pillar of support?’

It would be nice to have someone who actually says something, she retorted to her memories.

For as much as Shinobu didn’t feel like she saying anything, she wasn’t being a conducive conversation partner either. She might as well tell Giyuu to go home and not waste their time, she thought as she walked behind him. She kept her gaze on the ground, but the moment she looked up, she noticed out of the corner of her eye how Giyuu’s left hand—the one toward the road—extended as a carriage zipped by. She was at no risk of wandering into the street to be hit by it, but she was just as unlikely to have noticed Giyuu take any action at all.

Protecting her? How silly.

She smiled, felt a rush of heartburn, and told herself what medicine to take later.

They reached the forest, and the long dirt path that would take her home. She took a breath of the sweeter air, then as quietly as she could sneak up on him, she poked him the back—square on the spine, where the two halves of his haori met. The chills it visibly sent shooting up his body were a satisfying sight—fingers shot straight as twigs and shoulders jolted up to his ears. “My!” she beamed, and then leaned around his right side to look up at the ire spilled across his face. “Not very guarded for a Hashira, are you?”

“Kochou!”

“What would the other Hashira say if they say you like this?”

“It’s still daylight. You say that like you’re guarded at all hours too. But for you, that’s not surprising.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You put on that fake smile for everyone.”

“Come now—it’s not—fake…”

“…”

“It’s just… tiring, sometimes.”

“That’s why I said I’d listen. You look like you’ll crumble otherwise.”

“You really have caught me,” she flushed, but still tried to keep the smile in place. “Some Hashira, aren’t I? Not even enough strength in these hands to have ever cut off a demon’s head like the rest of you.”

“So what? Poison achieves the same result. Besides, none of the other Hashira can measure up to you.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’ve bothered with the risks of a Tsuguko. No one else is taking on the care of any future Hashira.”

The mention of those dead girls made her sick to her stomach all over again. “Please don’t say that. We both know it’s not true.”

“The Flame Hashira has raised a Tsuguko, but he doesn’t train him anymore. He gave that up long ago. The others only try to scare them off so they can do what’s easy, fighting on their own. You raised and taught your pupils.”

“I did my best to. But so much for that,” she said, turning her head to face the trees. She smilingly pretended to be looking at something. “I couldn’t teach them enough to be capable Hashira one day, let alone to survive. I understand Rengoku-san better now. I see why he gave up. I… I think I don’t want to do this anymore either. I’ll train anyone who comes to me for it, but I won’t expect anything of them.”

“…”

“I doubt anyone even goes to you, do they, Tomioka-san?”

“No. I’m not someone who should raise a Tsuguko.”

“You say that like someone afraid of dropping a baby.”

“I’m afraid of that, too.”

She couldn’t hold back a snort. “They’re not demons.”

“Obviously. They’re breakable.”

“You didn’t have any younger siblings, did you?”

“No. It was only me and Tsutako-neesan.”

“Same as me. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever held a baby. They look sort of squirmy.”

“It can’t be that hard. You can handle it.”

“And you can’t stand the thought of dropping it, can you, Tomioka-san?”

“…”

“You know,” she said, as she felt a sinking feeling in her chest, “I feel like all I can ever do with these small hands is carry broken little butterflies. If I cup my hands together, they keep piling and piling up. But you, Tomioka-san… you’re already at your limit, aren’t you? Carrying those two wings on your back.”

Having said this, she waited.

Sometimes, it was kinder to say nothing at all. In the silence, the sun felt like it sank.

Giyuu lowered his head. “Yes. I could never save anyone.”

Maybe he never noticed when he was protecting people either, she wondered.

“Tsutako-neesan died protecting me. I wanted to die, but Sensei took me in. That was where I met Sabito, who wouldn’t let me be so easy on myself. Sabito protected me when I was injured early at the Final Selection, then he fought demons alone and died while I was asleep.”

“Ara…”

“Sabito… was an amazing swordsman. He would have been a true Water Hashira, to lead and support the Demon Slayer Corp. All I can do is keep dragging myself through, not taking the easy way out until someone can take this place.”

“Ara, ara… you’re more talkative than I thought, once you get going,” she put a hand over her mouth and said, and her stomach twisted in the other direction as she thought of how distraught she would have been if she and Kanae had not survived the Final Selection together. “By ‘asleep,’ do you mean you were incapacitated by your injury? For the full remainder of the week?”

“That’s why I’m not like the rest of you. I don’t deserve to consider myself a member of this Corp.”

“Ara, ara… ara… Tomioka-san, you didn’t have to slay any demons on the Final Selection. All you had to do was survive, technically.”

“Doing nothing.”

He turned to face her. His face was flushed, and his brow was stern. His whole expression reiterated, ‘I’m not like you.’

“Ara… ara, ara, ara…” she kept her hand over her lips. This was serious—his self-perception was more off than she thought. Maybe lingering effects of that head injury? “Then… all this time, you’ve never considered yourself my fellow Hashira, either?”

“No. The Water Hashira position is vacant.”

“Oh. Goodness. That’s a problem. We’re already struggling with all the absences. You really think I can handle all that weight on my own if something happens to Himejima-san? I’ll get crushed.”

“You can’t get crushed. You mustn’t waver,” he insisted.

“But I was, wasn’t I? Wavering and struggling under the weight. Some fake Hashira we both are.”

“You’re not fake! I already told you you’re doing more than anyone else is—”

“And I can say the same to you, Tomioka-san,” she said with a poke to his sternum as he leaned over her. “For someone who doesn’t consider himself a Hashira, you sure act the most like one. We’d be better off never having the Water Hashira position filled if it means not having you around.”

He flushed all the way to his ears, then looked away with a grimace. That was the expression she liked seeing on his face most. She poked him in the chest twice more, for good measure.

“What would anyone else think if they saw us right now? Two pathetic Hashira, crumbling and leaning on each other for support. It would be pretty disheartening, don’t you think? Oh! And Oyakata-sama?” She poked again. “Wouldn’t it make him sad to hear he’s down another one of us?”

“I get it. I won’t say I’m not a Hashira, so stop.”

“That’s a relief, then. Thank you, Tomioka-san. I’m relieved in more ways than one.”

“…Anytime.”

“You too, Tomioka-san. You can tell me anything.”

She cast him a smile and caught his eyes. By the look on his face, something he hadn’t said had risen in his heart. It was most kind of her to say nothing, but she couldn’t help but add more.

“I’ll listen.”

Giyuu stared back. Her heartburn—and her curiosity—stirred as she anticipated whatever it was he might say.

“There is—”

He spoke!

“—someone—who I hope has potential… as the future Water Hashira…”

“Oh! Who might that be?”

“…Tanjirou…”

“…Tanjirou…?”

“…”

“I’m afraid I don’t know who that is. What rank is he?”

“He’s… still in training. Nevermind.”

“Ah, I see. We might never even see him in uniform, then,” she replied smilingly and promptly dropped the topic from her mind. With her steely smile in place and sun peeking low through the trees, she faced the mansion. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Tomioka-san, I believe we both have missions to get to.”

“Right.”

“We’re Hashira, after all.”

“Right. Be well, then.”

“You too.”

With that, Giyuu and Shinobu passed by each other and sped off in opposite directions, their haori flapping behind them. Shinobu’s smile came easier to her, though her heartburn felt more bothersome.

‘Wouldn’t it be nice, Shinobu? To have a confidante, a comfort… your own pillar of support?’

You were right, Neesan, she replied. It’s nice.

‘I’m a Hashira, but I’m human, Shinobu.’

Yes, she answered, me too.

‘Ever since we were little girls, I dreamed of when we’d both grow up and get married.’

Eh—?

2024/07/27 UPDATE: Thank you Yuki2sksksk for doing such justice to this scene!! (Please reblog the original from here!)

Chapter Text

Elevated heart rate. Rise in temperature. Only psychosomatic symptoms, no cause for alarm.

As a human, it was natural that the fleeting contemplation of marriage would illicit a response, for humans are social creatures. For that matter, demons were known to have psychosomatic responses to elevated emotions as well—they weren’t that far from humans, so the potential to bond with them was there. Maybe even marriage—no, that thought made her skin crawl and nauseated every corner of her insides.

Marriage was the natural course of most humans who lived long enough for it; it was a natural thought to encounter. As a little girl, Shinobu always assumed it was an inevitability, and she was resigned to it, so long as she could go to school and study lots of things first. After all, marriage guaranteed a woman’s security and station in life, but that station was in the home. A home filled with medicine like her mother married into, she hoped. Otherwise, Shinobu’s standards were always higher for Kanae’s future groom. He would have to be as lovely and charming as she was, and smart, and refined.

Their lives had ceased to be anything but normal, though. Marriage was never again going to be an expectation for the Kochou girls. However, her master’s words from when she accepted the Hashira position came back to mind:‘It is indeed possible to be married and to fight demons.’

It wasn’t for Kanae, though. Kanae’s life ended too soon for her to taste the pleasures and comfort of a spouse. That wasn’t fair, since Kanae yearned for it.

Now here was Shinobu, older than Kanae ever got to be. Older than their mother was when she was a bride, too. Shinobu, trying to live up to Kanae’s dreams in slaying demons to save others from heartbreak, sheltering the orphaned girls they gathered, healing the wounded swordsmen, and supporting the Corp as one of its pillars of strength, the Hashira.

‘Please, Shinobu… leave the Corp. Get married, live long…’

There’s no way I can leave the Corp, she replied in her heart, but it started beating hard again. She had to deny Kanae her wishes that her last remaining family leave the Corp, but she couldn’t say Kanae's wishes for her marriage were impossible.

“Tomioka-san,” she poked him. “Have you been eating well lately?”

“I’ve been eating fine.”

“You need a balanced diet with more than only fish and daikon, you know. You’re a Hashira, you need to take care of yourself. As the Water Hashira, you need to set an example.”

“You don’t need to rub it in.”

“The girls and I are having hot pot tonight. Would you like to join us?”

“I can’t. I have a mission.”

“Ah, of course. It’s so hard for Hashira’s free time to align, especially with so few of us, and Rengoku-san skipping off so much.”

“Shinazugawa and Uzui have been speaking ill of him.”

“He’s not the only one they speak ill of.”

“Who else? It couldn’t possibly be Himejima.”

“No, of course not,” she flatly replied.

“Then who?”

“…”

“…?”

“Nevermind. I don’t wish to speak ill of any colleagues.”

“Kochou.”

“Tomioka-san, hello!”

“Here.”

“…and this is?”

“Ginger root.”

“I can see that.”

“…”

“…but why?”

“I had extra.”

“Then this is for me and the girls? Thank you. Maybe say so more clearly next time. You have a bad habit of not explaining yourself well.”

“…”

“Fancy seeing you here, Tomioka-san.”

“Enough chatter. Where’s the demon?”

“Dragging itself up ahead. That should slow its regeneration, but not for long. Did something delay you?”

“Northeast of here there are poison victims. It’s localized in their limbs.”

“For now, you mean. Did you take any measures?”

“I tied them off to stop the flow. It will only help temporarily.”

“I couldn’t expect any more than that. I’ll leave this demon to you and take my leave, then.”

“Don’t act so relaxed.”

“Now, now, Tomioka-san, I’m as serious as they come.”

Being so serious, Shinobu was rather relaxed about the ideas that kept popping up in her mind.

Marriage was a natural inclination for a human. Other Hashira had been married before. Some Hashira even married three people at once.

She had rolled it over in her mind so much and made it so smooth and plain that the thought did not bother her anymore. It was so natural to want a partner and confidante that of course Giyuu must want one too. As Hashira, they could likely only find this in one another. Or, by this time, Shinobu could probably only find it in him, what with how he had noticed her crumbling before. And certainly in Giyuu’s case, he was so stunted in his conversational skills that he would never find someone else either. With how quickly they might be bound to lose their chance in this profession, it was rational to move matters quickly.

“Say, Tomioka-san. How about you and I get married?”

“Kochou. What?”

She didn’t expect him to respond so loudly. “It’s a natural thing for humans to do.”

“Do you intend to leave the Corp?”

“No, that’s not my intention at all. There have been married Hashira in the past. Whether to each other or not, I don’t know. Oh! I’m sorry, I should have clarified. I wouldn’t make much of a homemaker with all the missions I go on, would I? I suppose it wouldn’t even make much of a difference to live separately with how little we’d see of one another.”

Giyuu stared her down with cool eyes before responding this time. “How can you expect to build a life together with how short life in the Corp is?”

“It’s because you have that understanding too. Neither of us would hold a marriage above mission. That’s exactly what makes it possible.”

“A short marriage? That’s all you have in mind, then?”

She chuckled. “You make it sound like I intend to throw you away. That’s not my intention at all. I’ll keep you for as long as either of our lives wind up lasting. That’s what makes it a marriage, after all.”

“No, I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“Like what?”

“More than that, I’m sure.”

“Do you have experience, Tomioka-san?”

“No. I wouldn’t.”

“I only ever had my parents’ marriage to observe. Not for long, of course. And you said your parents died when you were young, too. How about Tsutako-san?”

“She died the night before her wedding.”

“Oh—” she covered her mouth. She knew it would be more proper to feel pained to hear that, but her heart felt warmed to find a similarity between Tsutako and Kanae. ‘Actually, my sister,’ she thought to say, ‘she always wanted to be a bride, too—’

“It’s not something to take lightly. What if you were to fall pregnant?”

“I can assure you that won’t happen while I'm a Hashira. Maybe someday if we defeat the progenitor of demons, though. I wouldn’t mind then, if you’re willing to wait.”

“You’re being overoptimistic.”

“I’m not promising peaceful domestic bliss, that would be silly for us. But why not? Peace and domesticity are hard to come by in the first place, and it’s a fine thing to try to take what we can get. Take some time to think it over. Not much would really change, but it could be nice. Just two weak pillars supporting one another.”

“…Stay focused on the mission, Kochou.”

“Very well. Being Hashira always comes first, after all.”

She smiled, but her face was hot in the night air.
Her heart thumped distractingly fast.
Her eyes stung and she had to keep from letting Giyuu see them. Embarrassment had too many psychosomatic symptoms and would be a threat to the mission.
She took a poorly calculated risk that left her vulnerable. Giyuu was right, she had to stay focused on the mission.

This mission, and every mission.

After all, she was a Hashira, and unfortunately, only human.

That night wrapped up like any other. After the demon was defeated, Shinobu smilingly gave instructions to the Kakushi and treated the injured. As always, she assured Giyuu in her overly chipper tone that she had the rest handled, so he could go on ahead. In the presence of others, he curtly excused himself.

Of all the unlikely things to occur, in so short a span of time! Giyuu felt more shook by Shinobu’s behavior than by that of the demon named Nezuko.

Shinobu was always saying frivolous things, like those empty, poison words about wanting to befriend demons. Shinobu had demonstrated her resolve as a Hashira too many times for Giyuu to believe any of that, but what bothered Giyuu was that none of her words in her proposal had that same sense of poison.

It did not seem she was lying, but her gaze had seemed far away. Even while proposing they be together, Shinobu seemed like she would slip away. It was like if he reached out, she’d be gone.

With the little span of time off he had from his missions, Giyuu had nothing to do but train and then sit around and feel unsettled, so he decided the most responsible use of his time was to see how the Kamado siblings were doing on Mt. Sagiri.

“Giyuu, what are you doing here?” asked a gruff man in a tengu mask who met him at the door of a mountain hut.

“I had time off.”

“Hashira get time off?”

“We—we do, if Oyakata-sama orders it.”

“I know that. You should have been using this time to take care of yourself, not to come bother me. Don’t you have anyone nearby you can bother?”

“I am dedicated to demon slaying.”

“Living like dead,” Urokodaki muttered under his breath. “Come in, then. Tanjirou is training. It’s only me and Nezuko here right now.”

“Has she eaten any flesh?” he asked as he entered the house and removed his shoes.

“Not a drop.”

“Then she must be starving crazed. Sensei, has she cause you any incidents?”

“None at all,” he answered, opening the door to the back room to reveal the demon girl tucked into the futon. As they walked in and crouched at her side, Urokodaki went on. “She fell into that slumber the moment they got here. Hasn’t stirred. Without flesh, she might never stir at all. That could be for the best, though.”

Giyuu put a hand to her forehead. She was not especially hot or cold, nor did she do much more than softly breathe. “I see. Should anything happen, I will take responsibility.”

“I would expect no less. But we can’t be quick to throw away our lives. Nezuko may prove to be a change in the tides, if we have faith in her.”

“And her brother?”

“We’d still lose him in the shallow waves. He hasn’t found his Breath yet.”

“I trust that he’ll find it with your instruction. He showed promise—”

“Stop,” he held up a hand to keep Giyuu from saying any more unnecessary words. “His swordsmanship is fine. His muscles and vessels are stiff, like he can’t get Water Breath to flow right. Like years of his labor on the mountain already trained him in set ways.”

“Water Breathing can overcome that, though. Once he gets the right sense of it.”

“You’re underestimating how hardheaded that boy is. What has you so anxious, Giyuu?”

“I—” he stopped.

He couldn’t say he was anxious for the Water Hashira position to be filled. That was his own self-punishment making him say that and not something anyone else would accept, like Shinobu tried to get through to him. She pointed out how silly he was being, but she probably meant it all as a comfort. Maybe he had managed to say things that comforted her after all.

Maybe that was what gave her all those other ideas. What else could he have done to make her see any potential in him?

He chased those thoughts away and continued speaking to Urokodaki. “Sensei, I find that people overestimate my capabilities. I will feel more settled when another student of yours enters the Corp.”

“You can never feel settled in such things, Giyuu. He doesn’t even have a prayer of going to the Final Selection right now, much less passing it. You have to settle your own spirit, no one will do that for you.”

“I understand. I’m fine alone.”

“That’s not what I was saying. Answer me this--have you had no friends since losing Sabito?”

“…”

“Good grief,” Urokodaki folded his arms, and the tengu mask looked as disapproving as always. “It’s probably because you make yourself unlikeable.”

“I’m not disliked.”

“…”

“I’m not! The Insect Hashira and I get along well. She talks to me a lot. She—doesn’t—dislike me.”

“You aren’t speaking fluidly like the Water Breather I raised you to be. Are you lying?”

“It’s not a lie,” he said, flushing more and more as he spoke frankly with his teacher. “I have reason to believe she likes me. She even proposed that we, two Hashira, should get married.”

“What?”

“I know. It’s—”

“Why haven’t you told me anything of her before? That’s good news, Giyuu! I’m happy for you. All this time I was convinced you really were alone.”

“Please don’t misunderstand—she only said it, I couldn’t agree to it.”

“Then you don’t like her back?”

“I—”

Shinobu’s cheeky laugh rose in his mind. That much, he was certain he did not like.

Then, he thought of one of her rarer smiles--the soft, kind smiles and how her silvery eyes would always catch his as she fluttered by. ‘Tomioka-san!’ had such an annoying and familiar ring to it by now. But he thought also of the sight of the back of her haori, spread wide like wings as she flew away.

In the end, she was bound to slip away.

“We’re Hashira," Giyuu reiterated, "Our missions must always come first.”

Urokodaki gazed off. “You’re too much like me,”  he said, then after a sigh, he resigned himself to preparing a meal for them to share. Giyuu helped by chopping firewood and fetching dishes, and before long, they sat down to eat together. There wasn’t a sound from Nezuko the whole time. Giyuu found himself staring in the direction of the door to that room as he ate, for he was never talkative when he chewed.

Urokodaki was not talkative when he ate, either. Back when Giyuu spent more time in this hut, he and Urokodaki would usually listen to Sabito shoveling his food so that he could go back to running up and down the trap-filled mountain, or Sabito declaring his gratitude for the meal, or Sabito otherwise orating stories in a voice that filled the hut and misty mountain alike.

‘You’re already at your limit, aren’t you? Carrying those two wings on your back.’

He could say the same for Shinobu, being so tied up in the loss of her sister. Remarkable that she could make any room in her heart, knowing it could be crushed any night. Why have any tenderness at all if it can make one crumble?

“That face isn’t like you, Giyuu. What are you thinking about?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It will be if you leave it that way. Not everyone is so lucky.”

“Sensei…”

“Have I ever told you that I only have one friend left from my demon hunting days? He’s an old Hashira like me with dismal results in cultivating. In the past, I would have only called him an annoyance. Now, he’s my only option for a confidante. The only one with any sympathy.”

“I feel great sympathy for you—”

“I don’t want your sympathy; you don’t get it. And you’re making me angry with how you’re going to wind up like me.”

“You’re telling me to get married, is that it, Sensei? Doom myself to a marriage bound to be cut short by what our missions demand?”

“You just said it yourself what you’re afraid of. Having something good again and then losing it.”

Giyuu’s chest felt tight. Urokodaki was right. Giyuu couldn’t say it to Shinobu at the time, but he knew taking a bride meant taking her heart, and leaving his in her hands. Those were precious and better left in a home, not taken away for slaughter among demons. “I have good reason to be afraid of it. Such a good thing would be wasted on me anyway. It’s an unnecessary distraction—”

“Stop sounding like me, you fool!”

Urokodaki slammed his bowl on the floor, stood up, and approached Giyuu like he intended to slap him. Giyuu was startled and braced for it, but that left him unguarded against Urokodaki’s tender embrace.

“You’re going to squander the only chance you’ve got!” he hissed in his ear in a voice made hollower by the mask. “Be human while you have the chance. All I want is to see you happy, however brief.”

Giyuu was not used to being embraced. After a moment of being unsure what to do with his hands, he set his bowl and chopsticks down, then placed his hands on Urokodaki’s back. “Please don’t shed tears on my behalf.”

“It’s not your place to tell me who to shed tears for. It’s not your place to tell her that, either. If she’s a Hashira, she’s prepared.”

“It wouldn’t be a true marriage,” he said. “She said so herself. Hardly anything would change.”

“But someday, Giyuu. You can’t assume you’ll live a short life.”

There’s nothing for me beyond seeing the Water Hashira position filled.

It would still be years until Tanjiro was ready for that; so Giyuu had to at least stick around that long. In that long a time, how many broken butterfly wings might Shinobu collect, spilling over her small hands?

Maybe he did not acknowledge himself as the Water Hashira, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t support another pillar of the Corp.

“If I can support her as a Hashira, however brief…”

“There you go,” Urokodaki gave his back a firm part. “That’s the flexibility your heart must have, if it’s not going to be brittle and shattered.”

Giyuu at last relaxed into the hug. It was nice, once he allowed himself to feel it. How had he forgotten all these years that humans were meant to embrace one another?

Protecting his brittle heart did nothing for anyone. He stood to be more like Shinobu, opening herself to pain to do the greatest good. She was remarkable, and as much as he wished to have his sister and his best friend back, out of anyone he had in his life now, he’d want no one else as his partner as much as he'd want her.

Urokodaki pulled away from the hug, but left his hands on Giyuu’s arms. “Then you’ll say yes?”

“…? …!” Giyuu flinched. “Sensei, I may have already turned her down.”

“You dolt! Did you or didn’t you?”

“We were on a mission. I dropped the topic.”

“Giyuu, go! Don’t squander this! Get on your knees and beg!”

“No, I don’t think she’d like that—”

“Speak with her!”

That made Giyuu flinch harder. He was bad enough at conversation as it was, there was no way he was going to recover this.

Chapter Text

Giyuu prepared to have the conversation of his lifetime, but even on his third day of waiting outside the gate of the Butterfly Mansion, he had not thought of what he would say. How did one go about belatedly accepting a marriage proposal? Now that he was committed to the idea, the intention to marry Shinobu felt like an obvious truth that did not need stating. What words would one use to express what felt like it had been actualized? At some level, he had already started thinking of Shinobu as his wife. Maybe kissing her would suffice as a statement of his intentions.

That seemed a simpler way of handling the matter than finding the right words. He could say the word ‘yes,’ but since the last words they exchanged were about the treatment of injured swordsmen, it might be confusing. He’d have to state the context first, and remind her that there was still an answered question.

But what if she said ‘no’?

“AH!!” came a girl’s startled voice. The gate next to Giyuu had opened, and there was the girl with two high pigtails rearing back on her heels in surprise. “Water Hashira-sama?”

“Is Kochou in?”

“Shinobu-sama is sleeping.”

His heart clenched. “For three whole days?”

“Only an hour or so, after she came back this morning. How long have you been…?”

“She must have arrived before I did, then.”

“…This is the entrance for the north wing.”

“And?”

“Nobody uses it unless we have guests.”

“…I see.”

“CAAAAW! A MISSION!!” came the voice of Kanzaburou, Giyuu’s crow. Kanzaburou settled on the fence of the mansion before continuing. “MISSION. MISSION WITH INSECT HASHIRA. NORTH. NOOOORTH.”

“Should I call for her?” asked the pigtailed girl.

With a mission ahead, Giyuu would require sleep. “No need,” he said as he walked off, for he would see her that night.

But then what would he say?

Shinobu wouldn’t say 'no,' and it was silly to think so. Shinobu was the one who asked, it was up to him to say yes or no. She told him to think about it. Now he had. All that was left was to remind her of this and say yes.

Only, the person who showed up to the mission that night was not Shinobu but Shinazugawa, so Giyuu said nothing. It wasn’t unusual for Kanzaburou to say the wrong name.

Giyuu went about his usual training and sleep during the days and went about his usual missions at night, but in his spare time, he frequented the market near the Butterfly Mansion. He thought he caught sight of her, but it was probably only wishful thinking, as the frustration of not being able to catch her face to face was getting to him. It was a preview of what to come, and he knew that, but it made him eager to hurry up and arrange a living situation together. As Hashira, they couldn't ask for much, but as spouses, they should at least have the same residence, he felt.

A few nights later, Giyuu at last caught full sight of Shinobu at the sunrise end of a mission.

There were many demons; Giyuu had not even the chance to hear if there were any other Hashira on the scene. When he spotted her, she descended from the treetops with the last kill before the sun’s rays would have done the work for her, and she turned to face the demon’s ashes with a poison, pleasured smile. “It looks like we were never going to work out, were we?”

Giyuu said nothing, for it was clear she had not addressed him. Nonetheless, her eyes flashed with the sunlight as she spotted him.

That was his moment to speak. “Kochou,” he addressed her.

“What terrible timing!” she said back. “I have an emergency to go attend to!”

“Then—”

“—at the Butterfly Mansion! Well then, farewell!”

At the mansion? Was it a swordsman, or one of her orphans? It would have worried her sick to be stuck on a mission while knowing she was needed.

...Or so it would have been reasonable to think, but Giyuu knew there was too much pleasure in her poison smile at the demon for that to be true. There had been no emergency until he arrived.

His arrival was her emergency.

Listening to her crow En inform her of her newest mission, Shinobu kept her placid smile on the outside. On the inside, however, it took all of her Breath technique to keep from groaning, much less folding herself into a tiny ball to hide in a corner.

That wouldn’t do. She was a Hashira. No matter how embarrassed she might be to go on a mission she was assigned to do with Giyuu, she was going to grin sweetly and bear it. After all, she couldn’t wriggle her way out of another mission. She had recently been assigned to a different one with him, but she managed to ask Shinazugawa to do it as a favor. Shinazugawa stopped by the following day to say he’d never do that kind of favor again. A day or so after that she leapt over a wall into someone's private residence when she spotted Giyuu absentmindedly walking around the market. Then that time she ran into Giyuu by chance, she excused herself by saying there was an emergency at the Butterfly Mansion—an emergency she could not possibly have known about after being away all night and with her crow busy surveying the mission.

She could not function as the Insect Hashira and avoid her fellow Hashira forever. The marriage she proposed was no big deal, so regretting having asked was no big deal either, she reminded herself. And, after saying goodbye to her girls in the same fashion she always did, she set out for her assigned mission with a perfectly managed expression.

“Good evening, Tomioka-san,” she said when they met up, “seems like it will be a quick mission this time, doesn’t it? If we can catch it.”

“Hashira were called in so it wouldn’t get away this time.”

“Very annoying one, isn’t it? It’s too bad we don’t have a Roaring Hashira these days, isn’t it? Or much of a Flame Hashira, for that matter. Well, good thing we have a Water Hashira.”

“Right.”

“Oh, no rebuttal? I’m very happy to hear that. Shall we see who catches the demon first?”

“Don’t look for an excuse to run away from me.”

Those cursed psychosomatic symptoms threatened to rise again. Thankfully the sinking feeling in her chest seemed to combat the blush that wanted to rise to her cheeks, as if those two symptoms were in a race or a bout of tug-of-war. “I won’t need an excuse if you run fast too. But very well, I’ll stay and keep you company here.”

“…”

They walked together, facing forward. Her stare was as placid as her smile, and she assumed his eyes were likewise as dull as his lips, but when she glanced over through the corner of her vision, she saw that Giyuu had his endlessly deep eyes on her. She looked away, then said, “If you want to have conversation, you can say so. I’ll listen, as always.”

“…”

“So quiet, as usual!” she said quickly, proving she wasn’t going to listen to silence for long. “Did my joke last time bother you that much? I apologize,” she said, the sinking feeling in her heart winning out against all the other symptoms. “A marriage proposal was in poor taste. Please forget—”

“You don’t get to cover yourself saying it was a joke.”

The blush surged to her face and throbbed in her ears. “Ah…”

“You’ve been the one avoiding me, afraid how I’d answer a serious question.”

“A… ara. You know me better than I thought you did.” Mouth running dry, fingertips shaking. A very poor display of Breath technique and self-control.

“You had poor taste in your timing. Posing a question like that before slaying a demon.”

“And you’re doing the same thing by bringing it up right now. We’re tiptoeing on Corp rules about interfering with slaying a demon. It’s got us both distracted.”

“Then let’s settle this. I accept.”

“…Eh?”

“If your offer still stands.”

The edges of her vision went blurry, leaving her caught by Giyuu’s gaze. Elevated pulse, sinking feeling, and lightheaded with how out of control her symptoms were. “Wait—This is a poor time to handle this after all.”

 “Does your offer stand or not?”

“It does—”

“Then it’s settled.”

“That—that much is, yes. Let’s be more rational about this after we finish the mission.”

“Now you’re sounding less frivolous. According to what I was told, it should be in this direction.”

“Initially. We can expect it to make an escape through the pass.”

“I’ll head it off there. See you on the other side.”

“I’ll chase it your way.”

They took off in different directions, and as Shinobu dashed through the forest, her placid smile widened. The increased heart rate was pleasurable.

Her! Kochou Shinobu! Getting married! Who would have thought?

Well, not that much would change. But it was natural to be happy about it.

This mission was wrapped up quickly, both for having strategically avoided a chase and for not having bothered to exchange any words with this demon that deserved nothing more than swift death. Shinobu had chased it Giyuu’s way, and the traces of demon blood down Giyuu’s blade had not even disappeared to ash before he looked up to see his future wife beaming back at him.

It was a lovely look for her. In Shinobu's usual poison smiles, her lips didn’t spread so wide as this, and her eyes glimmered more brightly than any time she had only flashed a smirk. That was a nice, joyful expression. Giyuu approached her with a smile bubbling to his own face, but it did not reach his outward expression before Shinobu gave in to her desires.

She poked him straight in the ribs.

“So you came around. I knew you needed time to think it over. Didn’t you, Tomioka-san?” she said and poked him again. A lot.

“Will you still call me that?”

“Of course! And you can still call me ‘Kochou,’ having two ‘Tomioka’ Hashira would confuse people. I’ll take your name on documents, though. We should have the same name for formalities. My future headstone will say ‘Tomioka’ as well. And it will be theirs if we have children, of course.”

“I thought you said we wouldn’t.”

“Well, not if you don’t want any, I don’t mind that either.”

“I never said I don’t. But not now.”

“Of course not! As Hashira, we would be far too busy to figure out how babies work. There wouldn’t be many chances to try to make one in the first place. But you needn’t hold back for fear of it, I have that handled. As for such conjugal visits, that would be easier if we maintained the same residence…”

“Your management of the hospital takes precedence. I’ll move to the Butterfly Mansion.”

“Then that much is settled! We can leave the housework to the girls, but if there are any dishes you like, I’ll try to cook them for you. Oh, I already know what you like. And… let’s see. What else is there?”

“We need Oyakata-sama’s blessing.”

“Yes, of course, that’s a given,” she replied fondly. “If he requests we do not, then none of this happened.”

“That goes without saying.”

“Other than that, it’s life as usual, I suppose.”

Giyuu took her hand, locked eyes with her, and unsmilingly replied, “Whatever I have left of mine, and whatever you have left of yours.” Her hand felt smaller and colder than he thought it would, but he liked how her eyes glowed soft at those moments when her poison smile faded. It revealed the heart he’d hold for her and left her ready to accept his own.

“I’m happy to have someone who understands. Our mission comes before all else, even each other. This I promise to you. We’ll be husband and wife, but always Hashira first.”

He held her hand tighter. “I promise you this as well.”

Over the course of a day and a half of correspondence, they requested an audience with Kagaya, were summoned, and then made the trek to the Ubuyashiki Mansion.

It was the first time Kagaya had received such an audience, one he never thought would come in his lifetime. With what vision he had left, Giyuu and Shinobu’s figures were blurry, but he noted how their postures were as stiff as always, and how the depth of their bow was entirely in sync. Not that such a thing was unusual for Hashira. If he could close his ears to the words they said, it would have looked like any other meeting with them. They spoke of marriage as though it was just another demon slaying mission. It was sweet how unprepared they were, he thought.

“I of course grant my permission,” he said to them.

A more unexpected thing happened after that. While Shinobu bowed and formally expressed her thanks, Giyuu stayed upright, and his features brightened so much that Kagaya had to assume he made Giyuu smile. Certainly, a stranger thing than he ever thought to see accomplished in his lifetime.

“After moving Tomioka-san’s belongings, we’ll contact you again about finding a suitable date,” said Shinobu. Giyuu remained happy and quiet.

“That won’t be necessary. If you’ve decided, then I already consider you wed. I’ll have Amane bring sake so you can have your formalities here, if I may serve as your witness.”

“I beg your pardon--right now?” Shinobu’s voice jumped an octave.

“We did not intend to burden you with this,” said Giyuu, taking his usual tone and bowing.

“It’s no burden to share in your happiness and see to you off to a short honeymoon. There’s a suitable Wisteria Mansion not far away.”

They were both bowing like colleagues again. “We can’t leave sudden undue burden on the other Hashira.”

“They won’t be opposed to me granting you a celebratory indulgence for the next two nights. I’ll send a crow now.”

“With all due respect, there is no need to trouble anyone.”

“Kochou is right. We don’t mean to impede on any other missions.”

“Giyuu. Shinobu. You should take this chance while you have it. With the two of you always putting your lives on the line, I have to take responsibility that each chance may be your last. This request is also selfish of me. I would like to see your happiness with whatever chances I still have.”

The fresh new couple bowed lower in unison. “As you command.”

The ceremony was simple. Amane and the children brought formal lacquer saucers for Giyuu and Shinobu to drink sake together, and they stayed for an early, formal dinner with the Ubuyashiki family. There were some Corp documents and records they amended together, with Shinobu recording her new name, ‘Tomioka Shinobu.’

The next thing they knew, Amane was politely seeing them off—near urging in her firmness—that they reach their bridal accommodations soon. Ubuyashiki’s personal crow in a purple cord expressed his congratulations to the couple and then led the way.

Their footsteps scraped along the gravel path with an even pace. It was the way they always walked together, staring forward. The only words they exchanged were, ‘that’s settled, then,’ through a placid smile, and ‘right,’ through no smile at all.

The hosts of the mansion were ready at the entrance with their heads bowed low as they offered their congratulations and informed them that their lodgings were ready. The fresh new couple thanked them, and soon enough, they were given as much privacy as any time they ever stayed at a Wisteria Mansion. It was a large enough establishment to have separate baths for men and women, so they each went to their own respective one.

It was when Shinobu had that first moment of privacy that she thought, I just got married.

It was just another thing humans did. The whole idea had a smoothed over appearance in her mind. Not much would change. She had a confidante and comfort now in Giyuu, her own pillar of support. She owed him the same. In addition to wifely duties, of course.

The bathwater all at once felt too hot and her vision swooned. She hugged her knees close as she thought again, I just got married.

Neesan! Neesan, what have I just gotten myself into? Did you ever do this? I thought I would have more time to read and prepare. No, there's no need for that. This is a normal human thing that human couples do. For a healthy humans, there isn’t much physical preparation necessary for the organs and hormones to function. Besides, at least for the wedding night, the onus of responsibility is on the groom. A bride need only to have decorum.

Growing up, she heard her mother once explain to Kanae that on a bride’s wedding night, her groom will ask her if she brought an umbrella from home. She is to answer that she has, and he will ask if he can open it. She is to grant him permission, and then lie down in bed first. As a small child who overheard this, Shinobu had doubts that adults would really say such things, but it didn’t seem in character for her mother to make up something so silly. Here and there over the years Shinobu heard the same references to the bridal dialogue, so she quietly realized how widespread this etiquette was, and now that it came back to mind, she made a note to herself that she would need to educate her girls on this societal matter. It was handy, she thought, for a nervous bride to have only a small and silly responsibility to remember.

In any case, she was not nervous. The fluttering in her heart like a goldfish flopping around in her chest was healthy. It must have indicated arousal.

The act surely would not be anything compared to the grueling training she had spent years putting herself through, and with Breath technique, it would likely be easy to accomplish. Then again, her partner also practiced sustained Breathing, so that might make him especially vigorous. No matter, such were her spousal duties to accept, however sooner this occasion came than expected. Not that she would ever have a shadow of blame toward her master for orchestrating how quickly this time had come. He was right; in their line of work, they would always be short on chances. Besides, it was going to be fun.

After their baths, they both wore loose bed clothes, which gave Shinobu the best glimpse of Giyuu’s body she had since that one time a few years ago when she had checked on his injuries while he was being treated at the Butterly Mansion. At that time, Shinobu saw only his body for its injuries, but now, the clean skin and warm flush he had from his bath seemed to highlight his overall form. Given his dedicated years of training, it was a very fine form. An excellent choice of husband, if she was given her pick from a line of male bodies.

Giyuu did not give her form the same look, for his eyes were glazed over as he rubbed his hair with a towel. He sat on the futon as relaxed as though among family he’d known for years.

“What’s the matter? You look tired, Tomioka-san.”

“You’re Tomioka-san. I fully expected to go on my usual rounds tonight. I would have napped in the afternoon.”

“You can’t function without your beauty sleep? That’s so cute.”

“Don’t call it ‘beauty sleep.’”

“How wonderful that you take care of yourself. I usually have to function on only pockets of sleep here and there. Don’t worry, I’ve never made a mistake with medicine—I make sure to stay alert. I’m wide awake right now!”

“Of course you stay alert when necessary. That’s basic for a Hashira.”

“Then you must be alert too, right?” she cooed and scooted closer.

“When necessary.”

“When’s that?”

“At night.”

“Right, right. You don’t have any demons to slay in daytime. I’m aware. You slay in the night,” she inched her lips near his ear, but kept her body hovering from touching him. It was his job to establish contact, after all.

“What hours do you usually sleep?” he plainly asked.

“Me? Oh, I don’t have a schedule, I can make myself sleep whatever time I have.”

“I see. I’ll respect your rest.”

He went silent again as he rubbed the towel around his hair more. Shinobu had the feeling this was not how a bridal night was supposed to go, but decorum meant she had to allow her husband to initiate the activity when he was ready.

“That was some fine sake we enjoyed with Oyakata-sama and Amane-sama. What an honor for them to share that with us,” she said.

“Yes. It was very good.”

“Did you have enough to drink? I’m sure our hosts would have more if we asked.”

“I’m not in the habit of drinking. A Hashira should practice moderation.”

“Yes. Indeed. You know, there’s a new drink that has an opposite effect. Have you heard of coffee? I’m afraid some of the lower ranked swordsmen are addicted. It seems it tastes terribly bitter, though.”

“I’ve heard of it, but never tried it.”

“Perhaps you’d like to taste something… sweeter?”

“…”

“…”

“Yes, I like sweets.”

“Oh. Well, good. The girls like sweets too.”

“The girls,” he said, gazing off as he let the towel rest on his neck, “Do they know to expect me?”

“No, it will probably be a surprise for them. Not to worry, they won't be bothered by you moving in. They’re used to having many men come and go from the mansion all the time, since that’s most of the Corp. Shinazugawa-san comes by sometimes, too.”

“Oh?” Giyuu’s features brightened. “I did not know that.”

“He and Kanae-neesan were good friends. We should make sure to let him know about our marriage.”

“Right.”

“Himejima-san as well.”

“Right.”

“And whoever is covering our territories for these two nights. Well, then again, Oyakata-sama will likely handle that. Our only responsibility is to make sure we’re enjoying his kindness to us.”

“Right.”

“…”

“…”

She at last could not refrain from touching him. With some annoyed poking, she asked, “Nee, Tomioka-sa-a-a-n.”

“You’re Tomioka-san. What?”

“It’s getting cloudy…”

He furrowed his brow. “And?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know if I have an umbrella?”

He stared her dead in the eyes. His brow furrowed. “Why would I want to know that?”

Did this man know nothing about his husbandly duties? Shinobu found some of his antisocial habits cute, but educating him on this matter was asking too much of her, however much more she had likely studied of it than he ever did. He did know what was expected of him, didn't he? “You know,” she tried to give him a more helpful hint within the bounds of decorum, “Doesn’t it seem like it’s going to rain?”

“Why does that matter?” he asked. In a movement swifter than Shinobu was alert to be guarded for, Giyuu leaned so close to her face that she could feel his Breath on her lips. It was her first time aware of Giyuu’s scent. He had his eyes locked on her as he said, “You and I aren’t going anywhere.”

Increased heart rate. Rise in temperature. Blood rushing to the surface of the skin. Normal psychosomatic symptoms indicated that she was progressing in the physiological ways expected of her now that Giyuu had made an initiation. “I’ll get in the futon first,” she whispered.

Giyuu dimmed the light, but with how used to working in low light they were, Shinobu could still see his form well, as well as the blue of his eyes. He kept looking at her as he followed her to bed, where he moved the blanket out of their way as swiftly as though lifting his hand to protect her from a carriage at the side of the market road. Her skin buzzed as Giyuu's knee slid across her thigh, and her own heartbeat was all she could hear in her head.

Neesan, she found herself escaping into her thoughts. I’m a bride. This is really happening.

‘Go slow,’ she thought to tell her husband as her extremities started to tremble. But she thought again of Kanae, trembling in her final moments as she asked for Shinobu to someday taste this happiness.

Was Giyuu nervous too? She thought of the haori that didn’t adorn him at this vulnerable moment, and how he could only carry the weight of those two halves. Her throbbing heart sank as it hit her how she had married him and doomed him to carry her loss one day. Could she give him sweet years, or only sweet days?

He lingered over her with a gaze and no smile, so Shinobu placed her hands on his face and pulled him close. She softly puckered her lips against his, then held his gaze as she whispered, “Don’t hold back.”

This image is also on Tumblr, posted to celebrate that we've reached the end of Part 1! Ohohoho, I'll bet you weren't expecting them to already be married in this chapter! They sure weren't. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Tomioka!

Also, now I can post some of the original doodles that this fic was based on, seeing as we've gotten to the "married" part of a "Low-Key Married" AU. There will be more of these posted as the content comes up in the fic.

First, here's one in response to an Ask about how this marriage came about.

And another Ask response that wound up bringing up how Taisho period courtship customs might play into the Low-Key Wedding Night.

Moving forward, the chapters may come in a variety of forms and lengths, as well as some somewhat longer waits between chapters because I'll be traveling a lot this month. Everything is drafted so you can be assured of more coming, but I enjoy tinkering with each chapter before posting it (so at this rate, we'll probably get way more than 75K words out of this fic).

Chapter Text

Giyuu was so used to sleeping during daylight hours that the sun was already high by the time he opened his eyes. Of all the ways he had ever gotten himself exhausted in the nighttime hours, that was the only time he had ever experienced it being pleasurable.

What an odd feeling to have an excuse to stay in bed, for he had no mission to prepare for that coming night. Kagaya, his master, had granted him an extraordinarily rare gift, but Giyuu's mind and body were too used to having responsibility, so his head started to throb from excessive rest. Giyuu ignored the throbbing, for he couldn’t squander that gift.

Shinobu’s nose was nestled against Giyuu's chest, and her head was heavy against his arm. The way she kept her arms and legs curled tight made her seem even smaller than usual. He knew, now, the unique, inimitable space in the world that her small body took up. He knew Shinobu’s curves and angles. But when Giyuu saw the full extent of her form before him, he felt a rush of panic at how small she truly was. Tight though she held him, her thin arms had little strength. It must have stirred something in his husbandly instincts to feel terror, but when he caught himself thinking that way, he chased the thought away. His wife was a fully capable Hashira, and he had promised to trust in that.

Nuzzling closer in the morning light, Giyuu took in the scent of her hair, and the feeling of it loose over his arm. It also stirred something in his husbandly instincts not to want to let any other man see her hair down or know this scent.

As much as he wanted to take in every sensation in that sweet moment, his wakefulness chased him. His head throbbed and nagged him to sit upright, and sooner or later, he would need to use the toilet. Very soon he found himself wondering if he could use Breath technique to keep his stomach from growling.

“Kochou,” he said. “It’s late.”

“Mhnhngh,” she mumbled back.

“Kochou. I need to get up.”

“Mnnnghhghghh.” She tucked her head lower so that instead of her nose, her forehead was flat against his chest.

“Kochou.”

Now he was sure she was just teasing him, so he pushed her to roll over and give him space. His heart skipped a beat before he was conscious of the sight before him, and he choked on his next Breath as he leaned up on his side to get a better look at her face. Shinobu was ghastly white, especially around the edges of her lips.

What had he done to her?

At the present moment, he did nothing—aside from staring, and panicking. Should he call for help? Apologize? Was she alive? She was alive, but maybe she was dying? What in the world had he done? What would he tell their master? “K-Kochou! Hey!”

“Mghhngh!” she swatted him away and turned to her other side, still using his arm as a pillow. At least that meant she was awake.

Giyuu cranked his neck for the best look he could get. “You look awful. Are you injured? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Let me sleep,” she grumbled.

“You’re as pale as a corpse. What’s the matter?”

“Low blood pressure.”

“What? Then this is normal?”

“Leave me alone.”

“What were you doing, scaring me like that? You should have said something,” he went on, then stopped himself when he felt how odd it was for him to be the talkative one. Stealing his arm back, he sat up and leaned over her ear to whisper, “Are you in any pain?”

She shook her head. “No. It was nice.”

“Alright, then.”

He slipped away to the toilet, and since one of their attentive hosts noticed he was up, she bowed and quietly asked if she should serve their breakfast. He instructed the hostess to leave it outside their door, and he would take it in.

When he returned, he found Shinobu sitting up, looking only mildly better. She had a sour, sleepy look on her face as she rubbed her eyes.

“You can sleep whenever you have time," he said, "but you can’t wake up when you need to, can you?”

“I give myself the time I need,” she looked over, silvery eyes bleary and shadowed by unruly hair. “It’s a process.”

“Have some tea.”

“What a serviceable husband.”

“Don’t get used to it. If I had rounds to make tonight, I would already be training at this hour.”

“That’s why I said I give myself the time I need. I don’t need it today.” She put her usual smile perfectly back in place. Giyuu never liked that expression on her, and with her hair in such disarray and the teacup hiding some of her lips, it had a devious edge. “What should we do with all this time on our hands?”

“…”

“Well?”

“I want to do more in bed with you.”

“A serviceable husband indeed,” she took another sip.

By the following day, they were back to their usual responsible selves.

They thanked their hosts, bid farewell, and went to their respective abodes to prepare for their nights ahead. Giyuu thought to spend some time packing, but he did not have many belongings, and the two Kakushi sent to his residence to assist had already finished most of the work. After getting some rest, he heard the reports of demon activity in his territories, then he made his nighttime rounds. Shinobu did the same, and the following morning, they returned to their respective homes to rest.

On the following morning, they met up as planned to make their formal rounds in daylight hours.

The first order of business was at the Butterfly Mansion. The girls were fidgety and nervous because it was unusual for Shinobu to call them all together for a meeting in their private living quarters instead of only organizing them to give day-to-day instructions for running the hospital. They were all on their best behavior with a guest, especially a quiet, imposing one like the Water Hashira.

“I believe you all have met Tomioka-san before,” Shinobu smiled to them. Out of the corner of his eyes, Giyuu observed her as she spoke. Her eyes were softer and her voice was milder when she handled her girls. “He’s now my husband. Starting today, you can all think of him as your brother-in-law.”

Giyuu bowed his head. “I’ll be in your care.”

“Ah—um—welcome,” the three flustered little girls bowed back. He looked closely back at them. The one with short hair was Kiyo. The one in two braids was Naho. The one in low twin-tails was Sumi. He made sure to remember them as Shinobu had instructed. They were shyer than he thought, for they all looked fretful and avoided looking back at him. Maybe they weren’t as accustomed to interacting with demon slayers as Shinobu said they were.

“You should say ‘congratulations’ at times like this,” said the girl with bright blue eyes. This one was Aoi. She was more flushed and bright pink in her face than Giyuu remembered. As he remembered, this girl was the Water Breather bound for the Final Selection soon. He offered to provide guidance, but Shinobu had told him to let her Cultivator handle the instruction. Giyuu found that reasonable, for he would only have thought to spar with her instead of explaining any of the finer points of Water Breathing.

“Congratulations,” said the three little girls, bowing and speaking with as much unison as Hashira.

Aoi bowed more formally. “Congratulations on your… unexpected good news, Shinobu-sama… Tomioka-sama.”

“Thank you,” he bowed back.

Finally, he looked to Shinobu’s quietest girl. She looked back into his eyes without a glimmer of hesitation and with a smile more glassy than Shinobu’s. The girl pulled out a coin, flipped it, caught it against her wrist, and then only took her eyes off of him to glance down at it. “Congratulations,” she said.

“Thank you,” he bowed back again.

Shinobu had told him about her. This was Kanao, the girl Shinobu and Kanae had saved from slavery, who had suffered and could not express herself. This coin was how she decided what to do when she could not otherwise decide. It was the result of the coin toss that made her speak up.

Giyuu flinched. That meant she couldn’t decide if she should offer congratulations. Maybe a part of her didn’t want to? Kanao's expression offered no clue, and she kept staring into his eyes.

After instructing the Kakushi where to put Giyuu’s few belongings, they set out. As his crow reported, Giyuu’s territory had been covered one night by the Flame Hashira, Rengoku Shinjurou, so they followed the crow to where he was attending matters in town. It was a relief to see him properly dressed in his Corp-issued uniform and iconic mantle, but he had a bothersome stink. There were deep ditches under his eyes that contrasted the bright hue of his hair as he turned around and spotted them. “Tomioka. Oyakata-sama said you took a bride.”

“Yes. We’ve come to announce our marriage.”

“Thank you for accepting a selfish request the other night,” Shinobu bowed, and Giyuu matched her.

“Better to do these things fast. Before you lose your chance,” he said, some slur in his speech. He then looked to Shinobu. “Are you retiring, then? Good for you.”

“Please be assured that we foresee no further impact on our Hashira duties.”

“What the hell kind of attitude is that? Some marriage that’ll be,” he grumbled, and slovenly bowed. “Best of luck to you, then. ‘Gratulations.” With that, he stood up, and then went about his business. It was about what they expected.

After that, they took a walk out to Shinazugawa’s home, where they found him among splintered tatami that he had been cutting to shreds. “What’s this?” Shinazugawa rolled his tongue with gruff speech as he rested his Nichirin blade against his shoulder. “Oyakata-sama asked me to cover both your territories, and I didn’t ask him any questions. I’ll ask you instead. What would bring you both over here?”

“We’ve come to announce our marriage,” said Giyuu, and Shinobu matched him as they bowed.

“Is that it? Huh. Somehow, I figured as much,” he tapped the dull slide of the blade against his bulging shoulder muscles. “And how long has that been going on?”

“Not long at all,” replied Shinobu. “Oyakaka-sama encouraged us to put things in order quickly.”

As she spoke, Giyuu eyed her again. He found her manner of speech was softer with Shinazugawa, too. It wasn’t as careful as with her girls, but there was a fondness and trust. Seeing this, Giyuu felt himself smiling, but no one looking at his face would have been able to tell, for none of his smiling muscles had budged.

“Really. Well, whatever makes you happy,” Shinazugawa said mostly to her, and he continued speaking to her, but he switched his glance to Giyuu. He beat the blade on his shoulders more forcefully, so it bounced and flashed with sunlight. “I’m sure you’ll be a very happy bride.”

“Thank you. Since I have no intention of retiring it may not be as Kanae-neesan always envisioned it for me, but as Hashira, we’re happy with this much.”

“Yeah, she’d get it.” Shinazugawa swung the sword around, then stuck the tip in the dirt as he rested both hands on the end of it. Despite that the tip of the sword had made his hair fly and nearly nicked the bridge of his nose, Giyuu did not falter. “Take care as best you can, then. I’m happy for you,” the Wind Hashira said through gritted teeth.

“Thank you very much,” Shinobu said and bowed again. To her annoyance, Giyuu did not match pace with her this time until she pulled his sleeve.

Giyuu was still inwardly smiling, very happy to have Shinazugawa wish them well. Giyuu did not notice as Shinazugawa’s face twitched and grimaced, so Shinobu tugged on Giyuu’s sleeve again and excused them to go see Himejima, for it would take a while to get there.

“You should talk more, you know,” she chided him with the placid expression they always took when heading out on a mission together. The sun was getting lower so they had to hurry up.

When they met Himejima, he was busy getting ready to leave for his rounds. Shinobu got the sense that he was annoyed and forced himself to be polite, so she wanted to make this quick. “Good evening, Himejima-san. I hope we’re not intruding?”

“If you’ve come all this way, it must be a serious matter,” replied Himejima.

Giyuu’s brow furrowed as he eyed Shinobu closely. Her voice edged on timidity and her eyes looked watery and taunt. For someone who seemed perfectly fine with the possibility that their master might deny their selfish request, Shinobu seemed more concerned about gaining Himejima’s approval. That made sense. This was the person who rescued her in a time of peril, whom she had deep respect for. Naturally, Giyuu also respected him, but he never felt he knew Himejima very well.

Himejima cast a blind stare in their direction and seemingly listened to their auras, then he scratched his prayer beads together as fresh tears flowed down his cheeks. “Namu Amida Butsu. So it’s come to this.”

“Yes. Tomioka-san and I have gotten married. Please be assured that we are Hashira first, and spouses second.”

“I see. If that’s what you’ve chosen, then do what you can to take care of each other. What a foolish decision, really, to only set yourselves up for heartbreak.”

Shinobu flushed and her throat went dry, and then her ears buzzed to hear Giyuu speak up in richer timbre than would usually rattle his voice.

“You needn’t be concerned. We chose this as two Hashira supporting one another.”

“Oh,” Himejima replied. “That was an unexpected thing to hear from you.”

“I didn’t expect it much myself,” added Shinobu, who put her fingers over her lips as she looked up at her husband. He had been so loud that it was almost as if he thought Himejima was deaf in addition to being blind.

“Have you really had no thoughts of retirement, Shinobu?”

“I have not. I do believe Kanae-neesan would understand.”

“I’m afraid she would,” he said and rubbed the beads again. “While I can’t say I acknowledge it as much of a marriage if you’ve chosen your Hashira duties over one another, I nonetheless congratulate you on your relationship. I always did think you liked each other.”

“Really? What would make you say that?” asked Shinobu. Giyuu asked nothing, for he was flabbergasted that Himejima knew such a thing that Giyuu himself had no idea about until very recently.

“A hunch.”

“A… hunch, you say.”

“Yes. A hunch.” He scratched the beads again, and did not elaborate.

With that, they bid each other farewell and went to their separate missions. That had left no time for announcing anything to the Sound Hashira, who had covered one night of Shinobu’s rounds, but she heard from her crow that Uzui had already been informed that it was to allow her the indulgence of a honeymoon. As such, she drafted a formal letter of thanks and assured him there would be no more influence on her usual schedule and availability.

In a streak of forgetfulness, what Shinobu neglected to mention in this letter was who she was wed to.

Uzui took this as coy demureness on her part—typical of a girl raised to be a proper young lady who doesn’t speak of private matters. Whoever the groom was, it was probably some drab man in a coat, hat, and mustache, so frankly, Uzui had no interest in whoever the hell he was.

Thus were all the announcements made. With no other influence on their missions, it was unnecessary to say much else. The Kasugai crows and the Kakushi privy to this information, true to their nature as informants, shared the news with those in their close circles, and fresh, young Taisho era buzzed with whispered secrets.

The Kochou-Tomioka marriage was no secret, of course. It simply was not anyone else’s business.

Chapter Text

It was no secret. A marriage between two Hashira simply did not merit being talked about, nor did it merit being hidden. It was simply a thing that humans did.

As Giyuu walked home early one morning after his mission, Shinobu happened to be on the same forested path to the Butterfly Mansion with one of the Kakushi. “Oh!” she exclaimed when she noticed her husband up ahead, and Giyuu looked over his shoulder to where the familiar voice had come from. “Tomioka-san, you finished your mission?”

“Kochou,” he addressed her, just as surprised to see her coming home already.

Her airy footsteps sped up. “I did, too!” she smiled. One of her true smiles, softer and warmer than the usual ones, and it warmed his heart whenever he earned a true one. “Shall we walk back together?” she asked.

Before Giyuu could reply with the obvious answer, the Kakushi accompanying Shinobu commented, “Oh, Tomioka-sama, you have business at the Butterfly Mansion?”

Giyuu paused, for this answer was even more obvious. When he finally answered, he stated, “I live there.”

The Kakushi seemed blown back on his heels. “What!? Does that—does that mean—”

“We’re married,” stated Shinobu. “For about two months now, with Oyakata-sama’s permission.”

“O—oh, is that so?” replied the Kakushi, who like all the others, was always quick to adjust to new situations. He bowed low. “Well then, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” replied Shinobu. Giyuu felt chipper with the Kakushi’s congratulations, and Shinobu waved as the Kakushi went away to go about other business. Giyuu was just as happy with that, for any alone time he and Shinobu could scrounge together was always nice. Shinobu turned toward him with a poke. “Nee, Tomioka-san,” she said, her smile already changed back to the usual one.

“Yes? Don’t poke me.”

She slipped around his arm as they started walking together, her cheek bumping against him with every step. “At times like this, you’re supposed to say, 'thank you.' Or at least say something."

“…”

Although Giyuu was an extreme case of not saying much, gossip was not overly common in the mission-minded Corp. Still, they were human (and crow), so gossip still found its place. While the newlywed couple spent the first several months of their marriage getting accustomed to one another and to the new arrangements, rumors lived and spread with a life of their own.

It had started the very day the Tomioka couple made their announcements, some hours later when the Flame Hashira stumbled on home. “Father! Welcome home!” boomed a voice to greet him. There stood the only other person in the Corp who looked anything like Shinjurou, at least in the unusual color of his eyes and hair. His eldest son was of the Kinoe rank, the highest one shy of being a Hashira. "I returned home from my mission several hours ago. I’ve rested and am training now. Yours must have taken some time, for you to be back at this hour!”

Shinjurou grumbled. “There’s never any end to it. I even had more territories to cover the other night. Two Hashira were off marrying each other.”

“Is that so! Congratulations to them! You should take a rest, then--”

“Might as well have quit if they bothered,” he said, and slid the door shut behind him.

Mention came up again in the Rengoku dojo the day after that.

“I know it’s a selfish goal to enter the Corp looking for a husband, but—but this might be the only way I can find a man even stronger than I am…”

“Entering the Corp likely isn’t enough. With your strength, Kanroji, you will probably need to marry a Hashira!”

“A Hashira? The elite swordmen at the very top, you mean?”

“Yes! You should aim to be a Hashira too, and support the whole Corp with your strength!”

“Oh—oh my—but wouldn’t it be a problem if two Hashira married each other? They must be so busy, after all.”

“Not at all! There are two Hashira married to each other right now!”

“Oh!” Kanroji’s eyes lit up. “How wonderful for them! What a powerful couple that everyone must look up to! I’m so glad to hear that!”

“There’s even a Hashira with more than one wife! Ha ha ha! Too many, but I suppose a Hashira can handle it!”

“Oh… oh, my.”

The truth continued to make itself known to others, even if unannounced.

“Tokitou-kun,” a voice in the fog cautioned, “I know you’re eager to practice swordsmanship, but you can’t over-exert yourself.”

Tokitou had trouble placing a face to the voice. He knew that voice. That lady had a chirping voice like a bird. But she wasn’t a bird…

“CA-A-A-A-W! NEWS FROM YOUR HUSBAND, CAAAAW!”

Now that was a bird… one of the crows…

“HE’S HOME TONIGHT, CAW, CAAAW!”

“I’m sorry. Would you please tell Tomioka-san to eat with the girls? I’ll need to head to my territory as soon as I finish tending to a medical matter.”

Tomi… o… ka?

That wasn’t a bird either. Where had he heard this name?

Ah, that was right. He was the Water Hashira. She was the Insect Hashira. Hashira… were always Hashira first…

…Hashira killed the most demons. Tokitou would aim to be one too, once he passed the upcoming Final Selection…

“Rengoku-san, is that you?”

“…Obanai, was it?”

“Yes,” the young man with the snake bowed lowly, covering his bandaged face with locks of black hair. “And Kaburamaru.”

“You’re still alive? More tenacious than I thought.”

“Is that liquor?”

“Don’t give a Hashira any lip,” Shinjurou narrowed his ruddy eyes at him.

“I understand you must be tired. With all the empty positions among the Hashira, that isn’t surprising.”

“You’re telling me. I even had to go pick up the Water Hashira’s territory for him to go and have a honeymoon.” He took a swig of the bottle he carried.

“A married Hashira?” Iguro raised his brows.

Shinjurou cast him a glare. “And?”

“I just imagined being a Hashira wouldn’t leave much time for family.”

“How do you think I got sons?”

“My apologies; I must have assumed an elite position like that wouldn’t—”

“You’re not wrong. It does eat up every bit of your time and blood and sweat. But that's where talented people are different, aren't they? They can manage anything,” he said with a sneer. He lifted the bottle to his lips again but paused to pointedly stare back at Iguro. “And hardly anybody’s elite anymore—no matter how hard you work, you’ll never be elite either, you got it? You’re wasting your life out there.”

Iguro bowed again. “I’m indebted to you that I have one to waste. Please take care of yourself. I’ll leave you be.”

Iguro, a Kinoe still on the brink of earning the Hashira role, would recall that conversation a few months later. In the company of a different Hashira whom he had become acquainted with on better terms, he hissed, “I finally met him. That Water Hashira.”

“You mean Tomioka Giyuu?” asked Uzui, still Iguro’s superior, and someone who had been pushing him to hurry up and fill one of the open Hashira positions.

“Yes. I heard he was a Hashira of talent.”

“Yeah. That word goes around easy. Otherwise, pretty drab guy.”

“Drab? He doesn’t even have common decency. So self-important.”

“I know, right? While the rest of us Hashira are scraping by, it’s like he’s always looking down on us. He’s like a puddle of water off at the side of Oyakata-sama’s garden when all the Hashira get together. Like you could step on him and not even notice until your sock is all wet.”

“Somebody should step on him. He’s asking for it with the slovenly attitude. I can’t believe anyone had the poor taste of marrying him.”

Uzui’s ears buzzed like he had stuck his head in a beehive. “Wait—wait, wait, wait, hold up—Tomioka is married!?”

“Yes. At least that’s what I heard from the Flame Hashira once. He had to cover his territory so Tomioka could get away for a honeymoon—that lazy jerk.”

“TOMIOKA IS MARRIED!?” Uzui reiterated. He then burst out laughing. How could something be so outrageous, as well as so drab and dull and normal all at once? “Who in the world would marry that guy? I have to know—no, don’t tell me! I want the fun of picturing this weird peace-and-quiet loving person. I’d rather gather the clues myself.”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

“My wives are going to go mad with curiosity when I tell them.”

“You have too many,” Iguro grimaced at him.

“Rengoku Kyoujurou, reporting for duty as the Flame Hashira! I look forward to working with you all!” Rengoku exclaimed on any occasion when he ran into his fellow Hashira. He had met them all in one place at the Hashira meeting just prior to the mission in which he defeated Lower Moon Two and officially relieved his father of the role. It would still be months until the Hashira were all gathered again.

“I see. Work hard,” Giyuu had told him, before disappearing off to his own mission. Rengoku had always heard how talented and serious the Water Hashira was, though all the Hashira were serious in their own way.

“Good to have you. Be more flamboyant that your old man was,” grinned Uzui, who was also very serious, but he could be mistaken for not being serious at all with his manner of speech and emphasis on being fashionable. The fact that he had multiple wives added to the sense of frivolity.

And who could the other married Hashira be? Among his Hashira colleagues, Shinobu the Insect Hashira was the only woman, and in the legal Taisho definition of marriage as Rengoku understood it, that was a necessary requirement of one of the parties involved. By process of elimination, that meant she had to be one half of the married Hashira couple.

Although Rengoku never expressly connected the dots in his head, he only ever thought of those two colleagues if ever (however rarely) the thought of married Hashira colleagues crossed his mind. Little by little, those dots moved closer and closer together, like trains on a single track coming from opposite directions.

In Kanroji’s case, she could not get the married Hashira—a couple she might look up to—out of her imagination. The wish to meet these perhaps star-crossed lovers sustained her in some of her lowest moments on her early missions in the Corp.

She climbed the ranks as quickly as her as Breath came into being. This soon got her acquainted with Shinobu, who was a good female friend to have in the Corp, especially in backing her up when it came to uniform issues. Kanroji loved how cute and sweet Shinobu was, and admired how much care she took of the orphaned girls in her mansion and all the injured swordsman in her hospital. It was remarkable how she found time for all that! And, since Shinobu had been a member of the Corp for so many years already, she probably knew more of the Hashira.

Kanroji once broached the topic, “I really hope that as a Hashira I’ll be able to meet a husband. Maybe… maybe even among the Hashira, if we ever have many chances to see each other…”

“Yes,” Shinobu assured her, “it’s doable.”

“I heard it’s almost a full set of nine right now. I haven’t met everyone yet, but are there… more girls—women—like us?”

“No, at present, it’s only us. There were others in the past.”

Kanroji’s heart plummeted to her ankles. “Oh.”

That made sense. It was the fate Hashira had to accept. Kanroji felt very heartbroken, thinking of lovers who very likely lost their lives together on the battlefield.

Still, as Kanroji got to know the other Hashira a bit better, she found that her heart was prone to beating faster around her male colleagues, especially around one in particular. Like she and Rengoku were, this fellow was still new to this role, but he already knew so much and was always so helpful to her. This might be her chance, she thought, especially since he was always so nice to her, but when Kanroji thought back to how cruelly her matchmaking attempt had failed, she shuttered to picture the object of her affections coldly spewing harsh words. That was so unlike him, though. It must have been that he was nice to everyone, and she was nothing special.

Still, marriage was her goal, and Shinobu had encouraged Kanroji before to embrace what made her special, including that goal, so Kanroji wrote a letter of inquiry to Shinobu asking how a girl might know if she’s found her true love.

Shinobu sent a lengthy reply, which Kanroji was elated to receive. She got nearly three quarters of the way through when she realized that Shinobu’s analysis of heart rate, blood pressure, and other psychosomatic symptoms was not going to lead into anything regarding matters of the metaphysical heart.

Still, Kanroji studied the material from Shinobu (which, for some matters relating to marital activities, went into a level of detail that made Kanroji feel dirty and uncomfortable for reading, though she knew that at her age these were things she should know and be mature about), for Shinobu would know best about the difference between a heart that felt squeezed like ‘kyun!’ in appreciation for any wonderful person, and a heart that went ‘doki dokiiii!’ with normal exhilaration, and a heart that went… well, however it was supposed to sound and feel around that one special true love.

It was remarkable that Shinobu was so learned in even these matters.

A ninth Hashira completed the set. Another voice spoke in the fog.

“You’re the new Mist Hashira?” Oyakata-sama said to accompany you for your first mission. I’m Tomioka Giyuu.”

Why would Tokitou know that name, but not that voice? “…Tomioka… Tomioka… where have I heard that before.”

“I’m the Water Hashira.”

“…birds?”

“…Come again?”

“Birds… a chirping voice… crickets? Was that it?”

“…I’m Tomioka Giyuu.”

“Ah. I remember now,” he said, but did not finish his thought that he remembered this was the Insect Hashira’s husband. He just as soon forgot that he remembered.

Himejima never said much.

Still, when the full set of nine was assembled for the first time in his tenure, he watched over the youthful room from his heart. There was a lot of curiosity about the young genius swordsman, whom Himejima felt was clouded in fog. Perhaps that was a trait of Mist Breathing? The younger Rengoku was a very loud man, in a way that dispelled any worries Himejima long since held about the Flame Hashira position. The new Love Hashira—what an odd Breath—sounded distractable, but the serious new Serpent Hashira always deflected the conversation away if she said anything that invited misgivings.

He probably liked her, Himejima thought to himself as he scratched his prayer beads together. Himejima had a hunch that neither of those two would be here for long, for one reason or another.

“I… um… wanted to become a Hashira… because I wanted to find a husband.”

“…why?” was all the cloudy Mist Hashira could respond, and Himejima couldn’t blame him.

“Looking for a husband? Seriously? Does that even count for anything?” boomed the Sound Hashira.

“Surely you don’t have any more availability!” laughed Rengoku, facing Uzui.

“Kanroji can be motivated by whatever she wants. She does a fine job of decapitating demons,” hissed Iguro.

“Girls can be brides if they want,” said Shinazugawa, in a distant tone. It dipped further when he added, “It’s got nothin’ to do with being a Hashira.”

Himejima scratched the prayer beads again. Was Shinazugawa thinking of Kanae? If not Kanae, who never had anything to do with being a bride because she was a Hashira, then it had to be—

“That’s right,” chimed in Shinobu. Her pitch pricked at Himejima’s ears, especially when she went on, “Right, Tomioka-san?”

“Right.”

The Stone Hashira cried. “Namu Amida Butsu. If we are all here first and foremost as Hashira, then let’s begin the meeting. We needn’t later waste any of Oyakata-sama’s time and favor.”

(Originally posted here (watch out for spoilers on that post, though))

2024/07/27 UPDATE: Thank you Yuki2sksksk for adding this drawing too!! (Please reblog the original from here!)

Chapter Text

“Help! Help me!”

Giyuu whipped his head around to follow the sound of a surviving Corp member, and his feet kicked off the patch of ground where he had been standing by the fallen. As he sped through the dark forest, he kept his head level to try to minimize the bobbing in his vision, though when he spotted the demon and swordsman up ahead, they were too far away to read the white “eliminate” character clearly.

From up above the demon, there came a sight recognizable at any distance. Using her butterfly haori like wings, Shinobu descended from a treetop and landed directly in front of the demon, startling it for precious seconds so that the injured Corp member could get away. Giyuu didn’t have to hear her clearly to know every word she spoke to the demon: “Good evening. The moon sure is beautiful tonight, isn’t it? I’m Kochou Shinobu, the Insect Hashira. What’s your name?”

Don’t you fucking dare say her name, Giyuu felt the words rise from his gut, though they never took shape in his mind. He was more concerned that the demon would reach out its claws to touch her, what with her just standing there so closely that she could Breathe in the air that came out that demon's nostrils.

“Grah!” the demon took the swipe Giyuu knew it would, but Shinobu lightly hopped backwards out of the way. When it tried to follow with its other arm, she still had room to spare.

“Perhaps you aren’t taking me seriously because of my size. You do know what ‘Hashira’ means, right?”

With all of Urokodaki’s reminders to be calm and flexible running through his veins, Giyuu’s footsteps slowed to halt the same moments that Shinobu danced her way into one of her strikes. She had it handled like the Hashira she always was, first and foremost. She deserved the title.

Between the two of them, at least one of them deserved it.

Shinobu made short work of the demon, and as it fell to the ground writhing with poison, Shinobu addressed Giyuu. “I’ve got this handled here, Tomioka-san. Please continue to the south.”

“That Corp member was injured.”

“I’ll tend to him. Is something the matter?”

“…”

Hot juices rose from his stomach and burned the back of his throat, so he chose not to say any words aloud. These ones had taken shape at least as far as his heart.

You don’t have to flirt with it.

That’s flirting with death.

For those who saw the marriage most closely from the outside, it had been an adjustment, and those people had struggles of their own.

Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho, who rarely saw Giyuu much more than to welcome him home and to offer him food, were used to simply saying, “welcome home” and “please take care.” They all found their mouths go dry and trembling each time he looked them straight in the eye as he thanked them.

“Thank you, Naho.”

“Thank you, Sumi.”

“Thank you, Kiyo.”

It made them tremble more and more and more as time went on.

They always asked the same fretful question amongst themselves, but never a breath of it in the presence of anyone else: “What are we supposed to call him?”

“Shinobu-sama always calls him ‘Tomioka-san,’ but she’s ‘Tomioka’ now too.”

“Aoi-san calls him ‘Tomioka-sama,’ but that feels very distant for someone like a brother-in-law, like how Shinobu-sama said to consider him…”

“We could try ‘Oniisama,’” Naho offered, and all three together folded their arms and tilted their heads as they tried it out in their minds. With never having addressed Shinobu as ‘Oneesama’ as a convenient reason, they tossed this idea out without addressing it any further.

“Aoi-san is a full Corp member now, so I think she’d rather be formal,” Kiyo returned to a previous train of thought.

“And Kanao-san doesn’t say anything at all to him…” continued Sumi.

They folded their arms tighter and shared the same contemplative ‘hmmmm.’

“Even if we tried to see what other Corp members in the hospital called him…”

“…he’s never there because he doesn’t do any work in the hospital…”

“…or on Functional Recovery…”

“…not since the time he tried to help Shinobu-sama with it and reinjured them all…”

“She called him ‘Tomioka-san’ so coldly that time, too.”

All three girls shivered as they thought back to it. They sighed, all bemoaning the same question in their minds.

What in the world is Tomioka-sama’s personal name?

They were all much too embarrassed to ask after all this time. No one around them ever used it. Whenever any of them wanted their brother-in-law figure’s attention, they found themselves stuck with “um…” and “uh…” until he looked in their direction with his scary deep blue eyes. He was always polite to them, and he learned and remembered all their names so well. They were all certain he’d yell at them if they ever tried asking him directly what his was.

‘What!’ he’d probably snap, ‘You don’t know your own brother-in-law’s name? Such insolence, an insult to the sister who raised you!’

They all shivered more fiercely whenever they pictured it.

They felt more and more powerless with each month that went by, until one day, an old crow appeared in the window. It scratched its bleary eyes and waited for attention.

“Oh, it’s Tomioka-san’s crow,” said Naho. “Wait right here, I’ll get you some food.”

“CA-A-AW. LOOKING FOR GIYUU.”

“’Giyuu?’ Could that be someone in the hospital?” she asked back.

Kiyo was passing by and overheard. “I don’t think here’s anyone here by that name right now.”

“CAW. GIYUU, ARE YOU EATING WELL?”

“No, I don’t think that person’s here,” said Sumi, poking her head in. “Sorry…”

“YOU CAN’T EAT JUST SALMON AND DAIKON. A MESSAGE FROM THE INSECT HASHIRA.”

“That’s Tomioka-sama!” all three girls said in unison. They crowded the old crow.

“Giyuu! Is that his name?”

“Tomioka Giyuu-sama?”

“Is that written like ‘loyalty’ and ‘courage’? That ‘Giyuu,’ right?”

“CAAAW. TOMIOKA GIYUU. WATER HASHIRA.”

“It’s ‘Giyuu!’” the girls threw their arms up and cheered.

“Wait,” said Sumi, “we heard this from Kanzaburou. He’s not a very sharp crow anymore.”

Naho gasped with a hand over her mouth. “Oh no, you’re right.”

Kiyo covered her blushing cheeks in her hands. “We can’t just say the wrong name! That would be so much worse!”

“But we have something to start with now. We can find a way to test it,” said Sumi. “We can try using it in front of a person who it’s safe to make a mistake in front of.”

“Right! Or in front of the other crows!”

“Yes, that’s a good idea! That way it won’t look like we had no idea this whole time—only that we had the wrong idea.”

“Yes, that’s it!”

“Then no one will scold us for being afraid to ask.” They all shuttered again at the thought.

“Then what do we do? Say ‘Tomioka Giyuu, Tomioka Giyuu’ in front of the crows?”

“Hmm, that does seem a little unnatural.”

“Hmmmm.”

"Hmmmmmmm."

“Tomioka Giyuu…”

“Tomioka Giyuu…”

“Tomioka Giyuu…”

“CA-A-A-W!!!” came the sound of another bird at the window, and the girls all shrieked. They looked over to the second crow, En, who was partnered with Shinobu. En flapped her wings as she settled on one foot, and then extended the other. “A LETTER FOR THE WATER HASHIRA!!”

“Ah—yes—we’ll hold on to it for him,” said Naho, untying a paper folded around the bird’s leg. Still feeling jumpy, she calmed down as she smoothed out the crinkles, leaving it long and vertical. That made the name formally addressed on the letter clear, in Shinobu’s elegant handwriting:

‘To Tomioka Giyuu-sama.’

The three girls all looked at it at once. They fell to silence, only interrupted by Kanzaburou giving his wings a rustle.

“Ah,” Kiyo finally said.

The three of them then eagerly waited for their brother-in-law figure to return from his mission a few hours later. They crowded at the door, bowing and ready. His tall silhouette appeared as a fuzzy shadow behind the slats, and the instant the handle made a click of parting the sliding door from its wood base, they shouted.

“WELCOME HOME, GIYUU-SAMA!”

Giyuu, no longer on tense alert like on his missions, was so startled at all his hair stood on end. It was rare that anyone ever shouted at him. He usually didn’t give anyone a reason to, so for a moment, he wondered what he had done to offend them.

“Giyuu-sama, let me help you with your shoes.”

“Giyuu-sama, I’ll go get the bath ready for you.”

“Giyuu-sama, here’s a letter from Shinobu-sama! She won’t be home today, so we’ll all take care of you.”

“Giyuu-sama! Would you like pork cutlet, or beef hash?”

“You can’t get all your nutrition from salmon and daikon, Giyuu-sama!”

“…beef hash…” he finally answered.

“We’ll be right on it!” they yelled through their smiles. It felt good to finally return the favor of being addressed by name.

It felt good to attain a feeling closer to being something of a family.

“…mmn…”

With so many nights and days spent away from each other, these moments were always so hard to come by.

He loved the sound of his wife’s moan, and the feeling as she buried her hand up his hair to lightly scratch his scalp as she pulled him closer. With his face against hers he couldn’t watch her silvery eyes glaze over with pleasure, but he could feel the sticky sweat on her cheek, and her Breath in his ear.

“Giyuu-san…”

“Shinobu,” he whispered back.

However brief those fleeting moments, it was good to be known by name.

Chapter Text

Over those first several months of their marriage, the times when they didn’t catch each other were common. They still got assigned to about the same number of missions together as before, but as was common for Hashira, they were usually on their own.

Shinobu was used to going about her own missions, arriving early to use the last of her peaceful daylight compose letters, or waiting until after she had bathed and before getting some sleep at whatever Wisteria Mansion she stayed at the following day to finish them. She kept Giyuu informed of when and where her missions were and what happened on them (as did Giyuu, with less eloquence in his sentences), and since she was at their home more often than he was, she also provided him updates on how the girls were.

‘Aoi has fully taken charge of Functional Recovery, in addition to the daily management of the hospital. After how much the Final Selection bothered her, I think it’s good for her to have these activities to throw herself into. It’s a big help to me, too. She follows instructions well, but I fear it would take her a lot of additional study to be able to prescribe any medicine on her own. I have assigned her some pharmaceutical texts to read, and to give her something to do, I assigned them to Kanao as well. Kanao has made more progress than Aoi has had time for,’ she wrote.

Sometimes Giyuu wrote back, with things like, ‘Our schedules did not line up again this time. Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho were very attentive while you were gone. They’ve learned to make a Western dish called beef hash. You might enjoy it.’

Letter writing seemed like it took him more effort. Effort Shinobu could not reasonably expect from a Hashira away on missions, and, she reasoned, it made the time spent together that much sweeter.

It made the occasional surprise encounter that much sweeter, too.

One morning, she was summoned to take a detour to go assist a team of Kakushi with a demon poison they had never encountered before. All demon poisons were similar and Shinobu could read them like a book, but the unusual symptoms they presented would often be overwhelming to a stiff-minded medic used to straightforward lacerations and blunt force trauma. Often, merely getting Shinobu’s assessment and instructions would make the medical team confident to handle the rest on their own. Sometimes it felt like a mere smile from a Hashira could have the same reassuring effect.

The investigation and experimental treatment of one victim did not take long, and Shinobu soon was giving instructions to a group of the Kakushi who would then communicate them to the others, for she had other things to do back at the Butterfly Mansion. The battle had been spread out, so Shinobu spoke to a couple more groups of Kakushi on her way, but in the hustle and bustle, she felt the presence of someone familiar behind her.

The very moment she looked over her shoulder, her husband was there doing the same.

She lit up. “Ara, Tomioka-san! What a surprise!”

“Kochou!” he said.

He smiled.

It was that same smile that unnaturally lifted all his features like rays of the very sun itself, and she felt a twist of disgust at how unfamiliar and oddly placed it was.

“Glad to see you’re well,” she grinned so widely that she could squint her eyes closed. She then turned around and pretended to look over the victims. “Is finishing off this demon your work, then?”

“Yes. I got called in partway through the night.”

“I see! Where are you headed to now?”

“I still have to get to the eastern ward. This set me off course, so I have to hurry.”

“You should make sure to take a rest while you can. Come with me before you go on.”

Giyuu wordlessly followed her. Behind them, a Kakushi watched, and then could not contain whispers to another masked medic. “They’re going off together. You don’t suppose they’re…?”

“Suppose what? They’re married.”

“Eh!? The Insect Hashira and the Water Hashira are married?” crowded in another, soon followed by others.

“I knew she was married, but…!”

“She is?”

“Oh no—was it supposed to be a secret?”

“Ssh, ssh, shh, leave them alone, the Hashira can do what they want! We’ve got work to do here.”

There was an abandoned farmhouse nearby, but aside from the spiders in their cobwebs, the Hashira couple had privacy. It was not what either one would consider bedroom conditions, but with the short time they had, neither was going to push for such relations in such a fleeting chance.

Besides, Giyuu looked exhausted. Shinobu knew he should get some sleep, so she wanted only to keep him relaxed and warm. As Giyuu leaned against a pile of straw, she curled up on his lap with her arms around him. Of the two of them, she was easily the warmer and more relaxed one. Being there in Giyuu’s arms made her feel safe, a rare feeling ever since the death of her parents. His sweat smelled comfortingly familiar, and the muscles down her back relaxed under the weight of his arms. He had very shapely arms.

It was a good thing she was upright so her blood pressure wouldn’t dip, she thought. How tempting it was to simply melt!

Having a husband was very nice. It was moments like this when she found herself enthusiastically agreeing with how much Kanae always said it would be nice, but for all Shinobu knew, Kanae had never felt such warmth and safety.

Giyuu, meanwhile, had but one repeating thought in his restless mind: She’s tiny.

On the occasions when they were at the Butterfly Mansion at the same time, they tried to eat dinner with everyone together, for Shinobu also did her best to cook and eat with the girls. On occasions when Giyuu was home, though, Aoi often found reasons to give them privacy. There was always more to do in the hospital, after all. The other girls often followed her lead, finding other chores to do, and would find some to ask Kanao to do as well. The Hashira couple didn’t mind either way, since they were happy to eat together at all. Often, that was all they had time for before their nighttime missions.

“Oh. This beef hash is good.”

“Yes.”

“This is a good source of iron. The beef can be cut small for the injured swordsmen who find it hard to chew.”

“Right.”

Giyuu didn’t talk much while he ate, so Shinobu talked only as much as she felt like listening to herself.

As a child, when they all sat around the table, Shinobu was responsible for most of the conversation back then, too. She was the most loquacious one in her family, and Kanae seemed to only provide polite remarks and reminders that Shinobu should mind her table manners. After some amount of chatter to provide pleasant small talk, Shinobu noticed when Giyuu was lax to respond, and she politely refrained from giving him more to respond to.

For as little as Giyuu said, he found these communal meals pleasant. He enjoyed the company, and it made him recall the times he last felt like this, back when he and Urokodaki used to listen to Sabito orate every night. If he thought back very far, Giyuu could remember all four members of his family together, but what usually came to mind was Tsutako serving him food and telling him about her day, and asking about his, and making nice comments back. She would have liked treating her own children the same way.

Dinners spent alone with Shinobu were often near silent.

Given his writing style, Shinobu always imagined that writing letters took Giyuu a lot of effort. That was probably why he did not send as many letters as she did.

The lack of frequency had another reason. Sometimes Kanzaburou set down laboriously crafted letters and forgot them when he took flight again.

As usual when she had these chances, Shinobu poked Giyuu. “Nee, Tomioka-san. You’re still very bad at conversation. I’ll listen, you know.”

Her eyes glistened, but her placid smile was stiffer than usual. That usually meant the opposite of a smile. His wife wanted more communication from him. She wanted him to talk, exactly as she said and made clear.

He had nothing to say, though.

“I have nothing to say.”

“Come now, don’t be like that! Let me make the most of my husband’s presence. Anything is fine! What did you do on your mission?”

“I slayed a demon.”

“Yes. Very good. And then what did you do?”

“I slept.”

“Hmm-mm. I see.”

“I ate lunch.”

“What did you have for lunch?”

“Simmered—”

“Yes, good talk,” she patted his arm and gave up. Giyuu hated to disappoint her, but small talk never came easily to him. What was he supposed to do? Entertain her with a uplifting story about the demon he let get away with only muzzle and a warning? Shinobu liked small talk, but asking it of him was too much.

In a letter to Urokodaki, Giyuu asked, ‘May I have advice on how I can communicate better with Kochou?’

To which Urokodaki replied, ‘How would I know?’

That was right. How would Urokodaki know? Giyuu was the one married to Shinobu, he should know her better than anyone. Certainly, there had to be more ways she appreciated communicating than simply having small talk. Although Giyuu was terrible at that, he felt he did a better job of physically communicating his affection when they had those chances, but that wouldn’t serve her on those day-to-day moments that they had to make the most of as they came by.

But that might be it! Physical communication!

His chance to express himself in her love-language came soon enough.

“So quiet as usual, Tomioka-san. You should—”

He was ready and alert for her finger to come poking at him. Taking the chance to strike first, he jabbed his index finger smack into her ribs.

“Ah--!”

She recoiled and shot a hand to her side. The placid smile was nowhere to be seen, and she stared back at him. He had never seen that expression on her face before. It was bad enough that what was supposed to be an affectionate poke clearly caused her pain, but even worse that he had dumbfounded her to silence.

Very quickly, Giyuu excused himself to go on his mission. That had gone terribly, and even as he headed into battle, his heart was flighty with regret over having tried that. No! No good, a Hashira could not be swayed by regrets. I’m not disliked. I’m not disliked. I’m not disliked, he repeated to himself to set aside any concern that possibly having broken her rib would not break their marriage.

‘Dear Kochou,
On my mission last night, the demon I thought was recently turned had more likely been hiding for many years and feeding in that spot. No sign of Kibutsuji Muzan nearby. I apologize for injuring you the other day. Are you alright?
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu’

‘Dear Tomioka-san,
That can’t be helped. None of us have ever gotten so much as a glimpse of the progenitor of demons. Maybe we aren’t looking in the right ways. More likely, he knows to be on guard against Hashira and puts demons in the way to keep us off his trail. Makes it seem more likely that a novice Corp member could walk right into him, doesn’t it? Perhaps a Hashira like me could get away with pretending to not be a threat. Certainly someone who overestimates his own strength could not. Please save that sort of treatment for when I’m not heading to a mission, lest I get you in trouble for preventing me from doing my work. This sort of behavior is absolutely forbidden if I am handling any medical equipment. I hope you know that I’m very upset that I would break my own finger if I tried to exact punishment in the same manner, so I have chosen to overlook this. I will get back at you in other ways, so please look forward to it.
Sincerely,
Shinobu’

‘Dear Kochou,
I accept my punishment.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu’

Well! That was a simple spousal argument nicely resolved, thought Shinobu. Nicely not much of a distraction. It was better for both of them that they left it at this, she concluded, then plunged a needle into her skin.

Maybe his poor attempt at speaking Shinobu’s physical love-language was a mistake never to be repeated, but it seemed to have at least communicated his efforts. Shinobu pestered him less about chit-chatting when he had nothing to say. Instead, when he had something of substance to say, he made the effort to do so.

‘Dear Kochou,’ he composed, ‘My mission will likely take more time than expected. It’s possibly one of the Twelve Moon demons. The sight of a butterfly today made me think of you. I’ll conclude this mission as quickly as I can.’

He did not expect a reply to come before he finished his mission, and one did not, so he raced home to make good on his promise. Shinobu was cordial but made no reply or mention of how she appreciated his hurry. Not even a word about the butterfly. He couldn’t expect such a thing, especially since he seemed to have interrupted her while she was concentrating in her lab. He knew to be patient, and quiet.

Maybe she was troubling him with all her letters. It probably put pressure on him to match her frequency, which was why his letters were always so short.

Sometimes, she reminded herself, it was kinder to say nothing.

She decided against writing a letter about her latest mission. It would take up her time to rest anyway. The mission always had to be prioritized, after all, and she didn’t want Giyuu to feel pressured into giving up his rest either.

Shinobu’s letters grew less frequent.

That was probably to be expected. Tomioka would no longer describe them as newlyweds, so maybe this was a sign of them settling into their lifelong partnership.

How he ached, hoping her life would be long.

He made no mention of such thing, but composed a letter to keep her informed of his whereabouts, for he did like to know that about her whereabouts as well, within reason.

‘Dear Kochou,
Because my mission tonight is in a nearby district, today I passed through our old neighborhoods. There are no signs of any attacks that happened many years ago, as though the neighborhoods have healed. I suppose they’re able to do that because we’re the ones who went on carrying the scars. That is why we carry our swords, which I will never forget.
Thank you for always reminding me of my place as a Hashira. It’s still something I need, especially on the nights when I don’t make it in time. Your reminders make bearing the scars something to expect and be driven forward by. I want to keep living by your example, of how the loss of your sister has driven you to this path.
It seems the man who Tsutako-neesan was betrothed to has children now. Although I bear him no ill-will, I do feel hatred toward him. I would not stand to be with anyone else but you.
I will likely have to spend several days here to locate the demon. Please do not wait up for me.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu’

Kanzaburou dropped this letter, too.

By the time Giyuu returned home, Shinobu looked genuinely happy to see him, but so much time had passed since he sent that letter that perhaps it would have been odd for her to offer any comment on it. She was understandably too busy to have replied to him. The hospital was full, she said, and then they found themselves discussing the poor quality of the younger swordsman. Shinobu delicately avoided any mention of the Final Selection being too easy on them.

She always delicately avoided any irrelevant topics.

“I don’t think it’s that the demons have gotten any craftier,” she mused. “Sometimes I find them feigning innocence, but hardly in any believable way. It seems very unlikely that the Corp members would bother listening to such pleas for mercy either.”

“Of course they wouldn’t. No Corp member would.”

“I listen to their pleas. I want to be as clear and open as possible, if I am to grant any of them the mercy they ask for. If any of them were trustworthy, that is! I still have yet to find any demons that don’t tell lies,” she sighed.

Giyuu knew Nezuko had not eaten anyone. For as long as Urokodaki said she had not, then she did not. But, for as long as Nezuko slept, there was no telling what she would say for herself.

They missed each other again, which wasn’t unusual. It wasn’t unusual to go many days at a time without seeing each other, or for that matter, hearing from each other at all. Initially, he had tried to keep her updated by letters about his whereabouts, and she did the same, but the crows could never keep up with their movements anyway.

Besides, if it was an update of significance, the crows would let them know. Sometimes Giyuu even played the sound of it in his mind, so that he wouldn’t be swayed when it happened:

‘Insect Hashira Kochou Shinobu has—’

A recollection of her words, in her voice, interrupted that thought.

‘We are Hashira first, and husband and wife second.’

Kochou says that, he pondered, but how secondary is our relationship?

Shinobu had told him before that he was disliked, so he once tried out her playful tone to ask back if she disliked him as well. He should have learned not to try to use her methods of communication, for it once again left her speechless—never a good sign with her. For someone so quick to have a smiling response to everything, she struggled to reply.

This whole marriage had been her idea, so it made Giyuu assume she had amicable feelings for him. What other way would there have been to read it? But, with how unbothered she also was by his longer and longer absences, he had to wonder.

This time, ten days had passed since they had any contact at all.

He had gone home to the Butterfly Mansion, but she had just departed for a mission, so in order not to trouble the girls, he found a reason to leave sooner than planned. Now that he was on this mission, it would still be a few days before he would return, and even if she was there, Shinobu was bound to busy. Training, assessing the sick and injured, prescribing medicine, and hidden away in her lab, where strictly no one else was allowed. The hours she spent in there worried him, for it was clear how her hard work was draining her, despite how much she smilingly tried to hide it. He hoped she rested easier when he was not around.

He had always found her incredible for how much she accomplished, and like being cheery and talkative, staying busy and caring for others was part of her personality. Maybe that was why she took him in the first place, as if Giyuu looked like he needed care.

He didn’t. As nice as the company of a wife was, he didn’t require it. His duties called for him to always be ready for battle, so he had also kept his heart steady, as did she. They were Hashira, no amount of affection could sway them—whether an abundance or a lack.

Giyuu wasn’t bothered by lacking something he didn’t deserve in the first place.

Late the previous night, he was once again too late to prevent a family from being slaughtered. There were no survivors, aside from the oldest child ravenous with a recent transformation. Having to chase that demon down and prevent him from harming anyone else kept Giyuu off the trail of the progenitor of demons, who had to have been close by. If Giyuu were to chide himself over every failure, he would have long ago lost the ability to do anything.

If he was like Shinobu, then each time, the anger should be something to carry and to push himself harder the next time, and the next. Any extent that he could push himself might be the difference in someone’s survival. No one deserved to lose their life over any of his lost confidence. But maybe rather than anger, all he felt was numb--

“CA-A-A-A-W!! TOMIOKA GIYUUU! NEWS FOR TOMIOKA GIYUUUU!”

That was a crow he recognized, and his stomach dropped, like it did every time. His mind played the words he dreaded, in the effort to protect himself from the sound they made when they materialized.

‘Kochou Shinobu has died.’

Even if he were to hear them, he was first and foremost a Hashira. That was what they promised each other. He would always do what he must.

Rather than saying those words, the crow said nothing as it stood before him to deliver a letter. Giyuu’s brow tightened as he removed it. Might it be from his master? Would it have crucial details of a new mission? Could it be terrible news from Urokodaki?

As he unfolded it and recognized the writing, all of his facial features brightened and got so light that they might fly right off his face and fizzle into warm beams of light.

It’s from my wife!

‘Tomioka-san, how are you?’ it began. He sat down on the forest floor and set the letter against his knees as he took in her elegant handwriting.

‘I heard we missed each other again the other day. I’m glad you didn’t wait around long, that mission took three nights! The demon thought it blended in well and once I found it, it tried to make chit-chat with me. It’s too bad it wouldn’t answer me truthfully, or we might have made friends!’

He smiled, hearing every word in her sunny voice. She doesn’t mean that, he commented in his mind.

‘I tried out an especially painful poison on it. It’s only fair to a liar’s victims to fit in what punishment I can, even if I cannot determine a precise amount of pain that it deserves. My new sheath works very well for adjusting the dosage—and I hope you understand that Tecchin-sama will not allow me to tell even you how the mechanism works—so it also allows me to concoct painless poisons, just in case. Neesan wanted me to have kinder means of eliminating demons in front of their remaining family members, after all. Not that this is usually a concern. I hope that your mission will go smoothly enough that you find a moment to write back. Regardless, please take care.

Sincerely,
Shinobu.’

The evening was still bright, so he moved for his own pen and paper as swiftly as though grabbing for a sword. As long as it was a short letter, he didn’t need a broad space upon which to write.

‘Kochou,
Thank you for your letter. My mission has been unsuccessful, for I did not make it in time last night. I’m taking an earlier start tonight. I’ll write again with better news, if I cannot make it home first to tell you. If you are able, please rest and wait.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu’

He was brief with his strokes, so the ink dried faster than if he had taken the time to write nicely composed characters. Shinobu’s crow was resting, so it gave him the moments he needed to wait before folding the paper back up for delivery. After that, he had no more minutes to spare, for tonight like other nights, someone’s life depended on him.

En the crow reached Shinobu on her way home. Seeing the hastiness of Giyuu’s strokes, Shinobu guessed that he was in the wilderness and in a hurry. She stayed where she was and opened it with the same haste and a sense of dread.

'Rest and wait,' he said… what business did he think he had, asking that of a Hashira?

No matter, she smiled. She could forgive her husband for looking after her welfare sometimes. Still, she would have to keep him from minding it too much.

(I am too tired to post the links to the original Tumblr posts. After all, I started writing this fic as a way to organize them all in one place. This chapter strung together content from so many different posts and PM convos that were never posted. You're welcome. Feed the monster.)

Chapter Text

The chances to sleep in together were rare.

Even with a full set of nine Hashira, there was always more ground to cover, always more demons to chase, and never any sign of Kibutsuji Muzan. How was Shinobu even supposed to study what poisons might work against him if she had nothing to work with? The demons she could subdue enough to take samples from only ever had miniscule traces of the original demon blood.

If she was to work with those most recent samples before getting ready for her rounds in the evening, she was going to have to get started. She was wakeful enough to use her Breath to get her blood pressure regulated, and then she had no choice but to get out of the cozy futon and get to work.

Giyuu, drowsily, had other ideas.

“Ah--!”

She had tried to move quietly enough not to wake him, but the cold that swept in as she sat up made him respond by pulling her back in bed. All he had to do was drape those unfairly muscled arms over her and she was stuck.

“Tomioka-san, I have to go to work. Stop it.”

She pushed and struggled, but Giyuu held her closer. Probably feigning sleep, he nuzzled his forehead against hers.

“To-mi-o-ka-san!” she shoved and poked.

“Mhm.”

“You’re impeding my mission!!”

“Mnn,” he held her tighter.

She huffed. He was so annoying whenever he attempted to be playful. She iced over the mood by taking a sharp, unsmiling tone. “This is against Corp rules, Tomioka-san.”

At that, Giyuu’s eyes peeled open, looking back with deep, dark pools of blue. Unsmilingly as usual, he relented and lifted his right arm. She got out of the futon, leaving it filled with a cold that seemed to settle in the bottom of his stomach.

Their marriage was a fine and normal human activity, for so long as it did not impede their demon slaying missions. That meant there was a normal element of marriages that must be excluded.

‘Mama,’ came a voice from a small child. Shinobu had some inkling right away that she was dreaming, especially since odd dreams were a common side effect. At the same time, she had to assume the child addressing her was her own. A little boy? He had rough hair like Giyuu’s, and maybe his piercing eyes looked like her own, maybe more like Giyuu’s; the fragmented glimpses made it too hard to tell. The child unsmilingly reached out for her hand.

‘You’re walking already?’ she asked it. ‘Who are you? Strange.’ The very next thing she did was look up. ‘Look, Neesan. I have a child.’

Kanae appeared and was immediately smitten. Shinobu couldn’t tell whether Kanae was in her Corp uniform or a kimono, especially when Kanae swooped down to wrap her arms around the child. Kanae laughed and squealed, saying all sorts of dream nonsense. The child dealt with it despite seeming annoyed by his aunt’s attention, and soon the child looked smaller and smaller. Kanae’s arms overlapped, holding the child tighter and tighter.

‘Neesan, lay off,’ Shinobu retorted, not liking how much harder it would be to snatch the child back. ‘That’s my child.’

At this, Kanae looked into Shinobu’s eyes with a hurt and sad expression. She then disappeared, leaving behind a child that had turned into a very round, very chubby baby.

‘Huh? Weird,’ said Shinobu, drawing closer to observe the change. The baby looked at her, but had cheeks so very, very round and chubby that the eyes hardly stayed open. She poked its face, and the cheeks were firm. Shinobu loved it when small creatures had round faces like that. Fondness overcame her and she couldn’t help but poke and prod it more. Pinch it lightly. Put her arms around it to feel how big and snuggly it was. She was certain the baby would be very heavy if she picked it up, but when she tried, her body started melting.

Shinobu woke with a start.

She was alone in her futon. The sense of being disturbed quickly dissipated, and Shinobu’s sense of curiosity took over. The elements of the dream made sense. The melting body was clearly indicative of wisteria poison, and feeling protective of the baby was because Kanae taking him or her would have meant the child died. Still, how interesting of a copy that child initially seemed to be of both her and of Giyuu at the same time, like her imagination was too uncreative to think of how their features would more realistically be combined. Even more interesting was that despite her lack of experience with babies, her imagination created the most idyllic chubby baby. How amusing that her brain would force her to feel such affection for it, so it was no wonder it was so idyllic. Beyond amusing, it was even sort of funny.

Her very next thought was that she could not tell Giyuu, or anyone, about that dream and how it amused her. After all, the most interesting observation was that this was how her subconscious dealt with the stress of her intentions for her poison-filled body. This realization made her plunge to sadness, but because that was a debilitating emotion, the sadness transformed to anger like it usually did. Anger was a reminder of how unfair it was that Kanae did not get to live out her own dreams, nor had anyone else killed by demons.

Was such a plan to avenge Kanae ever even going to work? Would Shinobu’s body ever even be able to fit enough poison in its small frame?

She went about her day as normal. One of her last tasks before heading out for her rounds was to check over her usual supplies, which she temporarily spread out on a low table usually reserved for domestic matters like tea and dinner. That left her surprised when Giyuu slid open the door. “Oh! Welcome home,” she smiled up to him. “I was about to head out. I’ve got work far away, so don’t wait up for me.”

Giyuu stared down, and for the first time, he asked her, “Are you angry?”

Shinobu felt shaken when seen through. “Yes, I’m angry,” she frowned and spoke in a low voice. “I’m having one of those days when it feels like my body is too small to contain all of my anger.” Or for that matter, enough poison.

“Of course,” Giyuu coldly replied, “as a Hashira should feel.”

He removed his sword and set it on the tatami as he took a seat at the table, and Shinobu ignored her supplies a moment so she could scoot closer to him. The room was dark, for it was late in the day and she had not bothered to turn on any lights while she was lost in her tasks. She kept her voice low to match. “Could I ask something of you, Tomioka-san?”

“What?”

She extended her pinky. “Promise me we’ll slay as many demons as we can, to keep as many people as possible from going through what we have.”

“A pinky? What good is that?” he narrowed his glance and sounded snide. He placed his entire hand over hers and held it with uncomfortable firmness. “The same thing etched on my sword is already etched on my heart.”

Her eyes went wide and caught every glint of light the room had. Her heart rate and body temperature increased, and a smile crept to her face. Psychosomatic symptoms of feeling grateful to have a partner so resolute as Giyuu. “Thank you. Of course,” she touched her forehead against his as she took to her feet. The sudden rise made her blood pressure dip, but she steadied herself with Giyuu’s hold on her hand, and then she gathered her things off the table and excused herself for her mission.

Although Shinobu left in a distinctly chipper mood, Giyuu found himself contemplating Shinobu’s anger. He initially feared that she was angry with him, so it was a relief that she wasn't. Her anger toward demons was plain and unsurprising, though, even to the point of being typical among Corp members.

But then why would she keep saying such hypocritical, poisoned words about wanting to befriend demons? Giyuu always knew she never had any intention of that, for no demon should be trusted—

Then again, he did know of one. It had been so long and there had been such little change in Nezuko’s sleep that sometimes he completely forgot. Maybe he should tell Shinobu?

No… better not. No matter how much she said it, Shinobu did not actually want any demon friends.

Although the girls were mindful to give them privacy, Shinobu gently pushed back against their consideration sometimes so they could all spend time together as a family. Even if Shinobu and Giyuu were both home at the same time, that family time was hard to come by, for Aoi always busying herself with tasks in the hospital, Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi were always had her beck and call, and Kanao was… off in the garden, doing something or other.

Giyuu wondered sometimes, for she’d come back looking flushed. That might have been because she was only sitting out there and staring into the sun, but he had the impression that her eyesight was too good for her to have been spending all those hours alone like that. On one occasion, when he and Kanao were the only ones left at the table finishing their tea, he pondered asking what she did every day. However, he didn’t want to risk her flipping a coin about whether or not to answer him and then have the coin answer with silence, so he chose the safer route of not presenting Kanao that choice in the first place. The silence was more comfortable if he had some control over it himself. Kanao could chose to speak to him if she wanted to, but she never did.

One sunny day, determined to make some family time, Shinobu reminded Aoi to schedule the hospital tasks so that they could all be present for a nice lunch. They were trying out a new pork cutlet recipe from Kanroji, after all. The two Hashira and five girls all squeezed around the domestic table; seven zabuton cushions in all. A bit of a squeeze, but not uncomfortable. The low table was big enough.

There were always seven sets of matching dishes, even if only five or six were used at a time. As Giyuu sipped his miso soup, he glanced at the glass dish cabinet in the kitchen, for the door was usually left open during meals. There were no other dishes from this set left there. An odd total of seven, rather than eight. All these dishes, and this table and these zabuton had existed there longer than he had.

Partway through the meal, Shinobu turned to feed her fish. “There you go, Fugu. Do you know why I named it this?” she asked Kanao.

Kanao merely shook her head.

“Because I wanted it to be nice and round like a pufferfish. A full and chipper look. Don’t you think babies with faces so round they can barely open their eyes are the cutest? It’s nice to see them so pudgy and healthy.”

Kanao said nothing. Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho all listened inventively, as did Giyuu.

A fish tank seemed like an unusual decoration for that spot in the alcove. Normally it would be a vase of flowers. Some artful seasonal arrangement, in whatever woven basket or lacquer vase suited them. As Giyuu recalled from his first stay in the Butterfly Mansion hospital, there had been flowers. He could not have finished asking himself why the flowers had disappeared before he knew the answer. That seemed like the kind of thing Kanae would do.

He looked down to the bowl in one hand, and the chopsticks in the other. The chopsticks were purchased when he became a part of the household, and they were thick and comfortable in his grip. They didn’t make the same dainty, lightweight clacking sounds that the others did.

Dainty was a word that seemed to fit most of the atmosphere of the mansion, and between the two sisters, it suited Kanae better. She was tall and slim, like a pair of chopsticks that would be at risk of snapping in a grip too strong. That was the impression she still left him with, all these years later. Shinobu was small—tiny, he would even say—but he took some pleasure in thinking about her ample curves as he sipped the rest of his soup.

Shinobu soon excused herself to her lab, and Aoi excused herself to the hospital. Because Giyuu took his time at the table, the little girls soon surrounded him with offers of seconds.

“Giyuu-sama!” they insisted. “You’re looking thinner lately.”

“You should eat more!”

“You’ll make Shinobu-sama sad if you look unhealthy!”

“…?”

He stared at them in reply, for he had only halfway followed the conversation as he ate.

“Eat up, Giyuu-sama!!”

Originally posted here, including with the parody version about how it didn't come out as I envisioned:

Chapter Text

One winter day when Giyuu was lucky enough to make it home in time for all the residents of the Butterfly Mansion to eat together, Giyuu knew right away that something was wrong.

Shinobu was smiling and gentle in her tone, but her eye had a twitch that would not go away. That was what Giyuu noticed first, and he thought it point it out to Shinobu for her health’s sake, but something in her sweet tone was as forcefully sweet as though pouring hot honey down the ears of her listeners.

“Tomioka-san, how long are you staying today?" she asked. "Would you like extra rice?”

Was she going to force feed rice down his throat next? He thought it safest to accept. When he took the bowl from her, their hands touched, and he felt how her fingers arched with her grip on the bowl. Aside from skin hot to the touch, her heart rate was elevated, which he could tell by the throb through her tiniest capillaries. This was different from the languishing anger towards demons she was always brimming with; that sort of anger was normal. This was not. Something different had happened.

Giyuu looked around the sullen, awkward expressions of the other girls to see if they had noticed, and this was when it dawned on him that the quietest one was missing.

He had some idea what happened even before Shinobu later spoke with him in their bedroom about the matter. Kanao had run away to the Final Selection.

In privacy, Shinobu let the anger crinkle her face from the bridge of her nose. Her voice hissed and spat as she whispered, “She never said a word to me. I feel lied to!”

Giyuu thought to defend Kanao by saying that if he had not said anything, then she hadn’t said anything untrue. That was not the same as lying. Defending Kanao to that extent seemed like a bad idea, though. “Maybe she felt she couldn’t.”

“Because I’d have stopped her! Why didn’t I notice? Neesan did let her watch and try it, but she never taught her. Never. Even if Kanao’s been practicing on her own, I’d have noticed—why wouldn’t I have noticed?"

"..."

"I know, I know. It’s because I’m gone all the time… I’m a Hashira,” she huffed, “I never even thought to prevent this. I feel so blindsided. I might never see her again—” she stopped as her voice choked with emotion. Although shocked, Shinobu shot a hand over her mouth as her eyes glimmered red and scared. There she was, wavering, and caught by the eyes of another Hashira. This was a moment of weakness.

Good thing for her that Giyuu was not like the others, he thought. This was when he stepped in to put his arms around her, as though hiding this blight on her unwavering stability. She gave in, slipping her arms under his haori, burying and hiding herself as deep as she could press her face into his chest.

Her voice was muffled against him. “Neesan would never forgive me.”

“This isn’t about Kanae-san. You’re the one who will deal with any outcome.”

If anyone were to walk by, they might think it was only Giyuu there until they noticed an extra pair of legs out the front of his haori. They stood like that, with Shinobu practically disappearing into him until her shoulders relaxed with a quiet Breath. Giyuu had to wonder where she found that air in his clothes.

“You’re right," she said, "I have to be a Hashira first and foremost. One way or another, I’ve lost a sister—either to death, or to the demands of the Corp.”

When the time came to take on a Tsuguko again, Shinobu was steely and prepared.

Some weeks later Shinobu and Giyuu were summoned together to their master’s residence to await details of a mission. Being called together was an uncommon, but not rare occurrence in their line of work. Still, they had seen little of each other since Shinobu began training her newest Tsuguko, so Shinobu was happy when any chance to spend time with her husband came by.

“You did well to return,” Kagaya said to the exhausted crow in his lap. “So, most of my children have been slaughtered? We might find one of the Twelve Moon Demons there, then. It seems I’ll have to send in the Hashira. Giyuu? Shinobu?”

“Yes,” they answered together. Shinobu continued by filling in the darkness with some airy cheeriness. “If only humans and demons could get along. Don’t you agree, Tomioka-san?”

“That’s impossible for as long as demons eat humans,” he sternly replied. Shinobu did love that she had married someone so serious about his mission, though he had few words to speak about it. She always had to tease his feelings out of him. It was nice that they had a break to look forward to after this, for teasing him could take some time.

As they approached the mountain, they found many of the slaughtered swordsmen their master had spoken of. Giyuu seemed to take his time in looking over the lost, so Shinobu asked him, “Were you acquainted with any of them? There don’t seem to be any survivors around here. We were informed that many rookie Mizunoto had joined the battle, but they might be dead by now, don’t you think?”

He paused before merely saying that they should go. So serious! Not even a word of special concern for anyone out there, possible survivor or confirmed victim alike. He could at least stand to set her concerns about that aside by saying so, especially after she had been so considerate as to ask.

Based on how long those bodies had been there, they still had a way to go before finding the demon.

“The moon sure is beautiful tonight,” she said as they ran with matched pace. “Since we’ve been gifted this joint mission, why not be a little more friendly with each other?”

“I only came here to slay demons.”

“I can’t get much out of you, can I?” she replied, in no mood to stop flirting. Still, he was right, and she would have to wait to pester and annoy him at a better time. “Alright then, let’s split up here. I’ll proceed from the west.”

“Very well.”

She dashed off, disappointed with how he could be such a serious husband, too. That would make it all the more fun to bug him later. After the following day’s Hashira meeting, they’d get the night off, so it was good timing to be in the mood to pester him. Assuming they both survived the encounter with one of the Twelve Moon demons, of course. She sure hoped he would.

It soon became clear what an annoying mission this would be. Rather than one demon, it was several. At least one had already been slayed by a Mizunoto with bright yellow hair who had the gall to mistake her for an old man when she arrived at his aid. A different demon had already made mush of fourteen comrades, and that bratty little princess of a demon had the gall to lie about it. With all that busy work, Giyuu had likely beaten her to the Twelve Moon Demon running this whole mountain.

Sure enough, the primary threat seemed to already be gone by the time she found Giyuu, but despite all his seriousness he was so quick to let his guard down once he thought his mission was over. Poor form like that was going to get him killed someday, so it annoyed her to see him so glazed over while another demon was still at his feet, ready to strike him at any second if she didn’t step in. It was sort of cute, but the battlefield was no place for that. He would have to put up with her lecturing him about it later, she thought, as she swooped through the forest with her sword ready—

TING!!

What was that?

That was the sound of Giyuu deflecting her strike. That step forward was defensive, not for himself, but for that demon. He had met Shinobu's eyes as he made the choice to protect a demon.

A demon.

Shinobu felt her blood boiling before her feet even touched the ground, for there was no believable way for him to justify such a thing. Her serious husband, of all people! It was so unbelievable that all Shinobu could do was smile, for she had to determine if that actually happened before she could plan any other course of action.

“Oh my,” she said, “Why would you get in my way, Tomioka-san?”

He had to have had a reason. There was no way he wouldn’t have, for something so abhorrent and far from absentminded. That reason had to have been good.

“After telling me we could never get along with demons…”

Her hand buzzed with how hard their swords had struck. He could have broken her sword, on top of having protected a demon! What in the world sort of explanation would he have for himself? Maybe if he spoke up more about his thoughts, he wouldn’t have caught her by such surprise! She kept talking, giving him every moment to prepare the most important words he’d ever say in his life.

“How should I put this?”

How could even she, his own wife, be so astonished by his actions? How would she explain this to the other Hashira?

“That’s exactly why no one likes you, you know.”

Giyuu still had the gall to say nothing. Saying nothing to explain his actions, he communicated only with the blank look in his eyes and the defensive stance he kept between Shinobu and the demon. Her temperature kept rising with every second this unbelievable situation went on. This ridiculous man left her no choice but to take the offensive, so she pointed her sword straight at him.

“Tomioka-san, please move out of the way.”

Move out of the way so she wouldn’t hurt him, so she could give him a piece of her mind after taking care of the most pressing matter. That demon was more and more likely to spring up and rip that boy and Giyuu to shreds the longer this went on. Maybe he wasn’t in his right mind? Maybe a demon blood technique was controlling him? He had to communicate that, though, and she would help him! For all she knew—for all Giyuu ever spoke—this was the real Giyuu making this destructive choice.

“I’m…”

At last, he opened his mouth to speak. Her chest tightened with hope that this would all get straightened out.

“I’m not disliked,” he said.

Oh?
He really didn’t think so?
That was a big assumption on his part, especially for how she was supposed to take any of this.

“Ah, I’m so sorry. You have no self-awareness about people disliking you, do you? I should have kept that to myself, I’m sorry.”

Once she spat that back, it seemed that dolt finally realized how much trouble he was in. She would deal with him later. That Hashira meeting had bad timing now.

Still, first things always came first. “Young man!” she called out to the innocent Corp member who had nothing to do with any of their forthcoming marital issues. “What you’re protecting there is a demon. I don’t want you to get hurt, so please move out of the way.”

“Y-you’re mistaken!” the boy replied. “I mean, you’re not mistaken, but she’s my little sister! She’s my sister, so… actually!”

“Ah, is that so? Poor thing,” she said, her spirits dropping. He really did seem like a good kid, and this would be heartbreaking. It was good that this matter fell to someone like her. “In that case, I’ll use a gentle poison so that she won’t suffer as I kill her.”

Giyuu whispered something to the boy. Was he perhaps saying…

“Take your sister and run.”

“Thank you!” the boy ran off.

That was thoroughly unbelievable. Was Giyuu being nice to that boy? Shinobu had never seen Giyuu be so nice to anyone, and he was being so nice to this boy that he was allowing a demon to live another night.

As soon as Shinobu regained the ability to speak over her shock, she asked Giyuu, “Isn’t that against Corp rules?”

In his stance and in his gaze, Giyuu had made his decision. Far from being her serious husband, and farther from being a Hashira, Giyuu had chosen this.

As a Hashira, Shinobu knew exactly what she must do to a traitor in that moment. As a wife, she still had no idea.

Chapter Text

Their swords crashed.

Giyuu had to keep her engaged there, where he could overpower her in close combat. The moment she slipped away it would be near impossible to keep her from getting to Nezuko. If Shinobu slipped away, he would never get to explain the situation to her.

But where would he start? Shinobu’s placidity, and any shred of kindness that motivated it, had vanished. “I see you’re serious about this, Tomioka-san. Who would have ever thought a Hashira would defend a demon?”

She was right to be angry about that. In any other situation, he would be too. He knew for what she had seen of the situation that reason was on her side, so what would he say?

This was bad. Shinobu had never been angry at him—not truly angry, not like this. Aside from Nezuko's life, it finally occurred to Giyuu what else was on the line.

The moment she relaxed her fighting posture and assumed the plastered smile, he knew everything had gotten worse. He could feel the angry heat coming off her as Shinobu went on, “Whether you’re serious or not, I’m not going waste time out here accompanying you.”

Was this it?

“Farewell.”

Was Shinobu leaving him over this?

Giyuu's gut dropped as he was faced with that possibility. He had always been prepared to give up his life for having risked that choice on Nezuko—a risk he did never weighed lightly—but even without Nezuko having harmed anyone, even if Giyuu's judgement had been correct that this might change the tides in a relentless war, was this where he and Shinobu parted?

Lost in that question, Giyuu remained still as Shinobu leapt beyond him and up out of reach through the treetops. Whether she meant only to leave him to chase Nezuko or to leave him entirely, one way or another, he couldn’t let that happen.

He dared to chase her. What right did he have? Was this for the sake of saving that demon, or did she make him mad?

She should have ignored him, but Shinobu was so incensed she could not help but look back at his face and rub in how ridiculous he was being. To think he could get away with betraying her like this and expect to keep her at his side!

“Do you really intend to catch me like that?” she smiled down to him on the ground, far below where she blazed through the night air.

Giyuu said nothing back. It squeezed her heart that it was his usual, serious, mission-driven face, focused entirely for her. What a waste for him not to use to it to romance her a bit sometimes, instead of letting this happen between them. He was as bad at speaking while on a mission as he was while eating. If he had a reason for this, he should have just said it, she’d listen!

Why did he have to let this happen?

Shinobu's heart kept dropping and dropping each time she sank to a tree branch to kick off of. Why did she always, always have to be the one leaving any hope for communicating with that man?

And for all his staring at her, he still wasn't saying anything to defend himself! She could never stand silence for long before she filled it herself. “I don’t mind you trying to stop me, but don’t forget there’s one other person, too!”

It felt good to rub that in. After all, wasn’t he the only one in the world who knew how much she hated to have to Kanao on the battlefield? Here it was going to turn out in a way Giyuu would hate too, for whatever unfathomable reason he still had not said a word of.

Kanao—he had not forgotten about the threat she posed, but he was going to have to trust Tanjirou to handle her. He had to stay focused on Shinobu.

She’s going to slip away.

Giyuu had felt that fear too many times to let it come to reality. If he let Shinobu get away from him now, she really would be out of his grasp forever.

When had Giyuu learned to be so light on his feet?

Shinobu was so startled by how quickly he had caught up to her that she was unprepared to avoid his grasp in mid-air.

"Ah-"

Once he had her, Shinobu was no match for Giyuu's grip on her wrist, and soon they were tumbling down with gravity. Giyuu was in control of both their falls and prevented them from injury, but her stomach turned with how much she did not want him touching her.

The next thing she knew, there was solid ground beneath her feet, but he had not only had her wrist, but her other arm, as well as her head in his grasp. She pulled and struggled, but none of her top half could budge. Giyuu might as well have been sitting on her, because beyond betraying her, now he was being downright insulting. How much worse did he think he could get away with?

“Tomioka-san. Are you listening, Tomioka-san?”

And it still fell to her to be the one to make any effort to make sense of any of this!

“Since my attack was to slay a demon and therefore justified, I don’t believe it could be construed as a violation, but what you’re doing is against Corp rules.”

Clearly he had no respect for her as his wife. But what about any shred of pride as a Hashira? In her mind, she fiercely accused him of making silly excuses for himself saying he was different from the others because all those Final Selection technicalities he loved to get tripped up in. Cheaply excusing himself. It was no wonder he never thought of himself as the Water Hashira if this was all the resolve he ever had.

What about his promises? What about what was etched on his heart?

“You’re preventing me from slaying a demon.”

Such poisoned words as always. He was preventing her from getting away so that he’d have some chance to explain this to her.

“Just what are your intentions?”

If she was going to ask him in such an accusatory way, she was only going to make this harder. After all, she had already made up her mind—rightfully—to be angry with him. It was because she was like this that he had to force her to stay put and listen.

“How about saying something?” she went on, not bothering to hide her anger behind friendly sounding poison anymore. “This is your last warning. At least tell me what your reasons for this are.”

That was what he was trying to do. "As I recall," he started, "it was two years ago—”

“Please don’t start some long, rambling story from that far back in time. Are you just being spiteful?”

He wasn’t trying to be! It wasn’t as if he could have told her about this two years ago, when it happened. Shinobu’s words about befriending demons were just as poisoned then as they were now. But at least back then, she wouldn’t have had reason to be so hurt by his silence. Her pulse pounded through her neck and her wrists, and by the strain in her voice and how much faster and faster she spoke, she might start crying soon. Wavering, on his account.

“Are you perhaps still angry that I pointed out how people don’t like you?” she added, spitting poison more and more desperately to keep herself from breaking down, and this was all his fault. Shinobu had to have been even more upset with him than she ever was with Kanao for joining the Final Selection. At least that, from their perspective as Hashira, was a decision to rid the world of each and every demon. If Giyuu were to see a Hashira do the same thing he did in letting a demon go, he wouldn't even spare them the chance to make an excuse.

He couldn't expect her to take any more of this. If only he had tried to say something sooner, before she was forced to give him as much of a chance as she did. It would have spared her this crack, or rather, what had already spread to a shatter in her trust.

He had shattered it; this was his fault. If he let loose his grip, she'd be gone. As if to confirm exactly this, Shinobu stopped speaking and instead shot out a hidden blade from her sandal. “Kochou—” he tried one more time to speak up for himself, but the blade came shooting at his face and he had to lean away and let go of her.

“A MESSAGE! A MESSAGE!”

GASH---

Chapter Text

“T…Tomioka-sama? Do you need that attended?”

“Ssh—don’t talk to him right now.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you hear? He was defending that demon.”

“The one Oyakata-sama said to bring to him? Did that demon do this to him? Kochou-sama is right there, hasn’t she even noticed?”

“She’s the one who did it to him.”

“What?”

“That’s what happens when Hashira find each other breaking Corp rules—”

“But they’re spouses!”

“S-s-s-s-h-h-h-h!”

The Kakushi hushed each other out of earshot, but the two Hashira were both of sound hearing. They both were of sound understanding of the incident, and how Shinobu had been startled by the call of the crow, so her aim was off. They knew Giyuu had dodged as far as he was able while loosening his grip. That was why the slash went down the side of Giyuu’s left brow, rather than straight into his eye. It wasn’t deep and they both knew it, but head injuries tended to bleed with excessive drama.

Just like the one Giyuu got so many years ago at the Final Selection, Shinobu thought. She found that scar near his hairline one time. It was so fine and thin she nearly missed it. How unfortunate that the precious left side of Giyuu’s haori should be getting stained with blood from that new wound. Not that it was something for her to feel bad about. He’d gotten plenty of blood out of that haori over the years and it was fine. At this point, there was no telling if Giyuu would survive the morning meeting, so dilly-dallying when Kagaya called for them just to treat Giyuu’s little gash would be silly if his head would soon be rolling.

Still, it would be unsightly for him to appear before their master like that, even if Kagaya was fully blind now. “Here,” she said, offering Giyuu a handkerchief.

“Thank you.”

For as kind a gesture that was, she gave off coldness. Giyuu looked to her, but she kept her gaze was forward.

“I’m going to rendezvous with Kanao,” she said. “May I assume you’ll be where you’re expected?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, then.”

She dashed off, and the handkerchief she left him with was stained through with red before she was out of sight. There was no need to follow her, for she would not fail to be where she was expected either. He used the silence of the morning light to compose his thoughts and apply salve from Urokodaki to his wound. Giyuu would take his time to explain everything to Shinobu later, as well as get her to understand that she also had some fault in that he never could have brought something like this up before. What mattered first was ensuring that Tanjirou and Nezuko would not be put to death.

Even at the Hashira Meeting, Giyuu found no chance to speak. He had the full two years’ worth of story prepared for as soon as he would be asked for it, but no one asked.

Shinobu stayed far away. She was doing the sensible thing, giving medicine to Tanjirou so that he could speak for himself. It was reasonable and patient of her, however frustrated she must have been in having to wait for Giyuu's explanation about all of this. As Tanjirou coughed and sputtered, Giyuu glanced at Shinobu from the corner of his eye, sending her thanks in his heart.

Shinobu never glanced back at Giyuu. For the entirety of that meeting, she was far enough away that Giyuu could not sense the same coldness she emitted early that morning. It was still morning, as though the sun was dragging as slowly as across the daytime sky did as it did behind the nighttime one. The Hashira Meeting was dragging on and on before it even started, and every moment slowed down even more once Kagaya appeared before them. With every turn everyone else had to speak, Giyuu wished they'd keep their mouths shut and let this all hurry up. With how quiet Shinobu was, she must have felt the same.

The other Hashira did not take well to Tanjirou’s story, nor to Nezuko’s display of willpower. Time really did seem to stand still then. Giyuu, for as little as he had ever cared about his own death, was startled by its sudden appearance, as though he walked in front of a mirror and didn't recognize his own reflection.

Was I wrong?

Nezuko growled. In that odd moment of stillness, Giyuu's thoughts moved fast and unconstrained by the flow of time.

I was wrong. There ’s no atoning for this—I'll end this all myself for what I've done—

When reason returned to Nezuko, Giyuu felt he might faint with relief and his thoughts slowed to their usual pace like the glassy surface of a dead calm lake, but the whirlpooling sense of shame in his chest didn’t go away. One by one, the Hashira accepted Kagaya’s request with varying amounts of chagrin, or in Kanroji’s case, cheerfully. But the one who accepted the most responsibly—more than she ever should have been expected to for what Giyuu had put her through that morning—was Shinobu, who volunteered to take responsibility for the two children whom Giyuu had almost failed to protect.

“Kochou, you sure about that?” Uzui hissed in a whisper.

“Namu Amida Butsu. You needn’t take responsibility for his choices.”

“His?”

The speed with which Uzui’s expression went from puzzled to wide-eyed with shock, then a wide-open grin from ear to ear, and then a face stretched between raised brows and tiny lips that looked like they were whistling, was speed that only a ninja could muster. The same could be said of the masterful silence he maintained as he kept a very flamboyant realization to himself. (Uzui would later convince himself he knew all along.)

Shinobu did not respond to her fellow Hashira. Giyuu could imagine her smilingly saying it was not anyone else’s business, even if the other Hashira did have a right to know the whereabouts of a demon left alive. To have accepted that responsibility, Shinobu must have gotten a quick understanding of why the Kamado children were special. Knowing her cleverness, that was unsurprising. A part of Giyuu was proud of his wife for being so quick on the uptake. Taking up what was his responsibility must have been a sign to him, he decided, for in Shinobu’s heart, marriage must have meant sharing burdens. That sign meant forgiveness, and reassurance.

Giyuu relaxed his heart rate, though the whirlpool of guilt had not stopped stirring. He wished she'd give more of a sign. A little smile of any kind flashed in his direction would make the anxiety stop, so he kept sight of her from the corner of his eye. It made his eyes sting to keep doing that in the low-lit room where they continued the Hashira Meeting, but it was his duty to be ready to receive anything she communicated to him.

Right up to the end of the tireless meeting, Shinobu never looked in his direction.

She sat close to the door, whereas he sat far from it, and she was out of the room before he had a chance to stand. Now that they were freed from Hashira duty, he wanted to hurry and go to her and speak with her. “Ko—”

A hand grabbed his own. “Tomioka-sama,” a woman’s voice said. Giyuu had not noticed Amane in the candlelit room until that moment, but she had his full attention now. “Your injury has reopened. Come here for treatment.”

As much as he wanted to hurry and attend to the sinking feeling in his chest instead, there was no denying Amane. He followed her to a nearby room, where two of the Ubuyashiki children waited with warm water and dressing for bandages. Behind them, a futon was prepared. He then noticed that the room was prepared for a guest, with bedclothes and a stand for his sword. “I apologize. I must be going,” he explained. “Kochou and I have had a misunderstanding.”

“For tonight, I suggest you stay here.”

“That’s very kind of you. I appreciate your help with the wound.”

He sat on the tatami, allowing Amane to tend to his injury until she was satisfied. It stung as she cleaned it.

“Tomioka-sama,” she said after a period of silence, “it may not be my place my place to say so, but it is imperative that you be settled in your own heart. You and Kochou-sama have married under the Demon Slayer Corp, and the demands thereof. You must prepare yourself for the standards by which she measures being a Hashira.”

“I know her commitment.”

“I’m afraid you don’t know the extent of it.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Giyuu’s heart plummeted again at the thought of the hurt in Shinobu’s voice. He was the one who put it there. They might have promised to be Hashira first, but as her husband, he still had explaining to do. Shinobu was bound to take his silence as having lied to her, and he knew how much she hated that. “I need to speak with her right away.”

“Tomioka-sama.”

The stern look in Amane’s eyes made him pause. Pausing forced Giyuu to reconsider if any of his two years’ worth of explanation would do anything to take away the pain of betrayal. After all, Shinobu had gotten the explanation she wanted already.

The Hashira always trickled out of the meetings, with some eager to use that rare opportunity to socialize, and others in a hurry to avoid just such a thing. Shinobu usually found a good balance to strike in being polite before taking care of other matters, but today she had an excuse to leave quickly to go check on the Kamado children. After all, one was terribly injured, and the other was a living, breathing demon.

Still, she wasn’t going to be so rude as to ignore her treasured colleagues if they crossed paths. Iguro was always recognizable from a distance in his stark striped haori, and as she quietly drew closer on her way out, she heard his voice. Was he talking to ghosts? No, to his companion little snake, of course. Kaburamaru, the only guest whom everyone welcomed at every Hashira Meeting. Kaburamaru knew all the gossip and wouldn’t tell a soul.

“Not a word of punishment for Tomioka,” Iguro huffed. “Even staying as a guest at the Ubuyashiki estate so that no one with a better head on their shoulders has the sense to go exact punishment. Someone ought to teach him a lesson. I hope when he gets home, his wife will do that. I can’t even believe he has a wife! Who in the world would think to marry Tomioka of all people?”

“That would be me,” Kochou cheerfully answered him, right behind his ear.

“Kochou!?”

If eyes were the window to the soul, then Iguro’s had let his soul fly out with how wide they opened. The extra heat coming off his body and increased heart rate were simple to diagnose with a glance, but Shinobu did have some curiosity what reading she could get if she stuck a thermometer in his mouth. Not that she could with his wrappings there. “It’s ‘Tomioka,’ actually. I’m his wife.”

“I didn’t—I never—I—I’m sorry…”

“You’re quite right. It looks like there’s always more work to be done. If you’ll excuse me, I had better get started.”

Lowering his beat red face, Iguro stepped out of her way. “I apologize…”

She resisted replying that she was glad someone knew how to.

Shinobu had a very full evening of work at the hospital after a mission like the one at Mt. Natagumo. There was a slew of bizarre injuries and poisonings, and Kochou herself had a regimen to keep up with. That boy Kamado Tanjirou was a wreck but terribly charming in his forthright chipperness. Still, to think even someone like her silent, stoic husband could be so overtaken with affection for this boy and his sister made her inwardly shake her head at herself for how little she ever knew about that man.

That was Giyuu’s fault for never communicating anything to her. After all their talk of ridding the world of demons, to think, he had made the independent decision to leave one prowling and hungry with nothing but a slab of bamboo in its mouth to prevent the very thing they entered this Corp to stop from happening.

That was what she and Kanae had promised each other, after all. That promise meant a whole lot more than any promise of marriage ever did.

She stole a glance at the sleeping demon, whom she needed to make peace with the existence of, for her master’s sake. How could she not, after all those flighty words out her mouth about befriending demons? Had Shinobu indeed poisoned Kanae’s words every time she said them? Perhaps, but it wasn’t Giyuu’s place to say so. He didn’t know Kanae like she did.

The thought that he had kept this from her for their whole marriage swelled up inside her like a firestorm, and she was about to scream with tears that she was so angry at herself for ever marrying that man—

“YOU'RE STILL MAKING ME DRINK EVEN MORE MEDICINE!?!”

That outburst from upstairs had nice timing in breaking her out of her thoughts. It was a reminder of all the tasks she had to do at the hospital, and how it was better to keep her focus outside of her own head, lest the psychosomatic symptoms impede her work. Under any other circumstances she’d had found that blonde boy terribly annoying and the boy with the furry mask disgusting, but under these circumstances, it was endearing how distracting they were.

And, in any other circumstance, she’d have taken just as much of a liking to Kamado Tanjirou.

The distractions came to them both, for demons were never quiet for long.

Shinobu and Giyuu were back on missions throughout their territories the following right, as well as the night after and the night after, well out of each other’s ways. Giyuu’s work kept him at Wisteria Mansions, but none of the medical care he gave himself in those places managed to keep the cut on his temple closed.

Perhaps he had given Shinobu enough time to calm down. After all, she was a reasonable person. That was why she was taking care of the Kamado siblings. And, since she was a reasonable person, she couldn’t expect Giyuu to never return to the place where he lived.

Whether or not she wanted him to…

Swallowing against that sinking feeling in his chest, he passed through the Butterfly Mansion gate. The gate that people actually used.

Aoi was the first to see him as she passed by with an armful of laundry. She welcomed him back as though nothing was out of the ordinary, asked him if he would be spending the night, and informed him that Shinobu was in her office at the hospital.

Giyuu knew not to startle Shinobu when she was busy at work, so he announced himself outside the door to the office before opening it. “Kochou? It’s me.” As there was no immediate answer not to, he opened the door and found her seated at her desk, shoulders visibly tense. She purposefully set her shoulders to rest as she set down her fountain pen.

“Close the door, then.”

He was already doing so. As it made a clack, she turned around in her seat to face him. There was no smile, which Giyuu found appropriate. It meant she would speak openly with him instead of casting him away with an unfeeling smirk.

“I don’t suppose you have anything to say today either?”

“How are Tanjirou and Nezuko?”

Shinobu’s face tightened with anger. “That’s where you’re going to start?”

“I can tell you everything of the last two years. Whatever you want to hear.”

“I heard enough from your cultivator’s letter. This isn’t about them, Tomioka-san. I can see that Tanjirou-kun is a perfectly nice boy, though I have nothing I can say about Nezuko-san what with how she’s done nothing but sleep since she got here.”

“That may have something to do with her ability to resist eating human flesh. Urokodaki-sensei believes that sleeping may be how she recovers her strength.”

“If Oyakata-sama believes that, then that’s all the convincing I need.”

“I encountered Nezuko before she had reached that state. I was convinced of her being different within moments.”

“Yet you kept that to yourself! This is no small matter, whether you were right or wrong. What kind of Hashira would keep it to himself?”

“…”

“Right, right, I know, let’s not get into that. Sit down, I need to reach your injury if I’m going to treat it.”

“You reached it just fine the other night.”

“Had that crow not startled me, I’d have taken your eye straight out. Put some sense back in its place. Hashira or not, you didn’t even tell your own wife about this.”

“How could I have? We never see each other. At what point would you have had me sit you down to tell you this?”

“We’ve been married the greater part of a year, you really could not have found a chance? I’d have listened if you would have just told me. Sent a letter or something--”

“You never meant anything about befriending demons, and you know it.”

She took her hand away from his injury a moment and glared, then turned around to the instruments at her desk.

“I see you’re reasonable,” he went on, “and I’m glad you’re taking care of Nezuko now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“You didn’t trust me enough to tell me,” she said, dabbing his head with antiseptic. When he winced, she held his head steady and dabbed a bit harder, like the playful rhythm of the poking she used to give him. He took a glance into her eyes and noticed how hard she focused on the anger to keep back the tears that would well up if she felt too much of the hurt. Knowing he was the one to have caused that hurt, he looked to the floor instead.

“I’m sorry.”

“You sure know how to use your words now.”

They stayed silent as she rinsed the antiseptic, and gently patted the tender wound. She arranged the tools for stitches and then spoke in a low voice before she began.

“Stay still.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“…”

“As long as you’ll allow it—”

“Stay still, Tomioka-san,” she repeated and penetrated the skin. He fought the impulse to wince, and as she threaded it through, she went on. “You can stay over if you want. I moved your futon to the north wing.”

The wing rarely used, he noted. She was reasonable indeed, allowing him to stay at all. “Understood.”

“I’ll need to check up on these stitches regularly. It likely won’t leave a scar.”

“It’s fine if it leaves a scar—”

“I won’t have this getting infected.”

“…”

“Shinobu-san!” came a chipper voice directly outside the door, which opened before Shinobu or Giyuu could react. “Aoi-san told me to bring you my chart to get my dosage adjusted—oh!! Tomioka-san!”

Shinobu felt Giyuu’s head turning at the sound of Tanjirou’s voice, so she forcefully held his chin in place. He could not roll his eyes over enough to look, but Giyuu spoke. “Hello.”

“Did your eye get injured?”

“My eye is fine.”

“When did that happen?”

“When I was trying to get him to stop preventing me from slaying your sister. Good thing that’s all settled, isn’t it!” Shinobu smiled up at Tanjirou, who gasped.

“This is my fault!?”

“If Nezuko-san is as you say she is, then you have nothing to worry about, do you, Tanjirou-kun? Now what about your dosage needs adjusting?”

“Aoi-san left some notes.”

“Why don’t you leave your chart right there, then? I’ll take a look when I’m done here.”

“Alright. I hope you feel better, Tomioka-san.”

“I’m fine. And your injuries?”

“Stay still.”

“Already much better! Ow—still a ways to go, though. Thank you for everything, Tomioka-san,” he bowed much lower than should have been comfortable.

“…”

“You should be back in bed, Tanjirou-kun. I’ll go there and examine your chin when I’m done here.”

“Understood! Well then, I’ll see you later, Tomioka-san!”

The door closed, and the couple returned to silence. Shinobu snipped off the last stitch, placed a bandage over the wound, and then neatly rearranged her tools. With her back turned to her husband, she admitted, “I’m not always reasonable. And neither are you.”

“That’s not true. You were justified in every action you took that night.”

“Dealing with a colleague, perhaps. But dealing with my spouse… I can’t be sure what’s justified anymore, Tomioka-san.”

The swarming guilt rushed up from his gut to his throat and stung like a storm behind his eyes. All his hopes that she had been giving him signs at the meeting were scattered. There was a scar on her trust bigger than anything around his eye, and he could only blame himself for how it got there.

She went on. “Not to mention, I’m embarrassed. Do you know how hard it was to defend you to the other Hashira? If I wasn’t going to believe you had some reason for all this, no one was. If I were acting as a Hashira truly should, maybe I shouldn’t have given you that chance at all. But that’s all settled now, I guess. I only wish it hadn’t happened like this.”

“Me too.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“…”

“I don’t actually want to know. Try to come see me again tomorrow for a new bandage.”

“I will.”

“And say hello to the girls.”

“I will.”

“I’m away tonight, so you can relax.”

“Alright.”

She picked up Tanjirou’s chart and headed for the door, and Giyuu spoke up again before he’d lose sight of her. She didn’t need two years’ worth of explanation, but she needed to know his regret and how sorry he was. “Shinobu—”

An artery in the nape of her neck tensed. “Don’t call me that right now,” she said lowly, then exited the office.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Murata. How are you, man?”

“Off until my finger’s all healed up,” he said, showing his bandage. “I guess everyone heard about how bad things were on Mt. Natagumo. It was a Lower Moon that spread its abilities around to demons all over the mountain.”

“No. We mean the Hashira Meeting.”

“The Hashira all called you to it.”

“Oh. That,” he replied. Murata looked to the ground, his lips twitching as he tried to summon words.

“Don’t push him—he’s been through a lot.”

“Sorry. Maybe we don’t want to know after all.”

Murata didn’t want to tell those other swordsmen about it anyway. He and all the Corp members he entered the mountain with that night were like bugs caught in a spider’s web, with all their strength and training near useless or turned against them. There were a lot of good people lost that night; people like him who had dedicated all their time and lifeblood to the Demon Slayer Corp ever since their families had been mercilessly ripped apart.

And then, to the Hashira, they were all as good as bugs in the first place.

That was what really hurt; hearing how he and his fallen comrades and his cultivator were criticized for churning out second-rate swordsmen. None of them were raised with the sword or born with superhuman strength and talent, and in the first place, it was regenerative demons that they were all up against. It was never going to be a fair fight, and they all went into it knowing that. They all had as much as the Hashira did, one life to sacrifice each.

But the Hashira were in a different world with no way to understand that. Even when that Insect Hashira spoke all sweetly to him, it felt like he was stuck in a glass jar that she loomed over.

Even the one whom Murata thought would be most relatable from his own batch, Tomioka, couldn’t spare even a look in his direction. But then again, Tomioka usually looked like that ever since the Final Selection. Murata was sympathetic to that—he saw how badly Tomioka took it when he heard that the guy with the rust-colored hair and the scar on his cheek died. Tomioka was a person who felt things so deeply that he must have had to make himself numb to every good thing left in the world, lest he be paralyzed with fear of losing something good again.

Maybe that was how Tomioka unlocked his potential and walked the lonely road to being a Hashira. Murata respected that, but knew that wasn’t for him. After all, Murata was the one remaining survivor of his family, and again and again the only survivor from missions like Mt. Natagumo. It was a sign that he should live, and appreciate what that meant. He had to go on feeling loss, but that meant he could go on having people he cared about. Friends. Comrades. And if Murata was really one of the fortunate ones, a special someone all his own—a pretty girl with a sweet voice, and with any luck, some curves—maybe someone like the Insect Hashira, just someone who wouldn’t scare the pants off him.

Yes. Even if he would never reach Hashira potential, Murata knew how to live.

Nursing his pride, he smiled and went on with his day. He thought back to the kind words of support that his master Kagaya had said to him, which mattered more than what any Hashira might have to say. Murata kept up his smile, went about his training to keep his muscles buff and sharp while he recovered from injury, and later attended the funeral for his fallen comrades.

“Murata, right?”

“That’s me,” he said to the Kakushi who addressed him.

“That boy who got in trouble with the Hashira was asking about you. The guy with the scar on his head.”

“Oh! That mizunoto, Kamado Tanjirou, right? He’s a good guy, I’m glad they let him off.”

“He came this close to getting his head chopped off. It’d leave a bigger mess than his sister would, I’ll tell you that much. You should stop by the Butterfly Mansion to say hi to him.”

“That place where the Water Hashira lives, right?”

“Yeah. That’s the one.”

“Guess I’ll say hello to Tomioka too. He’s not so bad, you know.”

“If he’s around.”

“Yeah, Hashira are busy.”

“Nah, I mean he’s in trouble too. With the Missus.”

“…pardon?”

“With his wife. Insect-sama. Kochou Shinobu-sama.”

Murata vibrated with chills. “The Insect Hashira? T-Tomioka’s wife?”

“Yep.”

“Tomioka… has a wife?”

“Yep. Kochou-sama.”

“It’s her?”

"Yeah."

“Tomioka’s married.”

“Yes.”

“As a Hashira.”

“Yep. You sure that finger is your only injury? You don’t look so good.”

“I…” drabbled Murata, “…I just got the jolt I needed to go rethink how I’m living my life. Get a lot more serious about things. I always thought I was just good enough doing my best and getting by, but… life’s going to pass me by like that, isn’t it?”

“I only have half an idea what you’re talking about, but good on you. Yeah. Go for it,” the Kakushi said flatly and gave him a thumbs up from his folded arms.

Murata hoped he might use this new piece of information to strike up conversation with Tomioka someday. That chance did not come when he visited the mansion because Kochou was there instead, but Tomioka was a survivor too, so they’d get the chance someday.

And maybe by then, Murata could tell him about a girl of his own.

Chapter Text

“Tomioka-sa-a-a-an!”

Giyuu looked up to the window of the hospital, where Tanjirou was leaning out and waving.

“Tanjirou.”

“Are you off to see Shinobu-san about your eye?”

“My eye is fine. She doesn’t trust me to change a bandage myself, that’s all.”

“That’s really nice of her to want to help. Well, I mean, maybe that makes sense since she’s the one who did it. Nevermind. Does it still hurt?”

“It doesn’t impede my missions. What is the state of your injuries?”

“Still kind of uncomfortable,” he grimaced, “but Shinobu-san said Inosuke and I can start Functional Recovery training soon. I wonder what that will be like?”

“I see.”

“Ah—oh—bye, Tomioka-sa-a-a-an!”

When Giyuu went around to the hospital office, he found Aoi there. “Tomioka-sama, you’re here for getting your wound cleaned and rebandaged, right? Please wait right there, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Kochou’s not here?”

“She had other matters to attend to today.”

“I see.”

Maybe half the time he’d gone for treatment—which was only a fraction as often as Shinobu told him too, because his missions took priority—Shinobu would be the one to do it, but her missions took the same amount of priority. Aoi and Kiyo were just as quick with a brief wash, a look at the stitches, applying a new bandage, and sending him on his way.

When Shinobu was the one there, she would take the time to inquire about Giyuu's missions before doing so. She would also that Tanjirou’s recovery was going smoothly, or if Nezuko had been wakeful at all. His wife was reasonable and kind and her voice was mild, but she was still hurt, and it lacked warmth. Giyuu always kept his gaze to the floor since it didn't feel she'd look at him anyway.

Although getting all the Hashira together at once was only feasible twice a year, Kagaya found reasons to keep their company throughout the seasons, so it was not uncommon for Hashira to run into each other when coming and going from the mansion. Even with secret routes to the estate, it was inevitable that some of their routes would intersect.

“Uzui! Fancy running into you out here in broad daylight!”

“Fancy that you always catch me,” Uzui grimaced at Rengoku. For as quietly and swiftly as Uzui could usually slip by, Rengoku always had his eyes peeled enough to notice him.

“Are you in a hurry?” asked Rengoku.

“Always.”

“To a mission? It must be very far away to have to depart at this hour.”

“My wives work all hours. They’re neck-deep in their missions and I’m on my way to see them.”

“That’s very understandable! I’m sure you must be very concerned with one being so close to a demon at all hours now.”

Uzui found this phrasing confusing. Maybe Rengoku knew some of the details of his mission in Yoshiwara, but not all of them. “They’re all capable and can handle it.”

“I have no doubts of that either. It still irritates me to know that demon exists.”

“You and me both.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a report to make to Oyakata-sama!”

“Toodles,” Uzui said over his shoulder and kept running along the fences and rooftops. With any luck, it was only one demon out there for only one of his wives to be close to, but they still didn’t know which one. How much could Rengoku have heard if Uzui didn’t even know much yet? How odd.

After that encounter, Rengoku heard directly from Kagaya about a series of disappearing travelers. His mission would be a long trip away to go look into whatever demon was out there in another city preventing them from making the trip home.

“Are you heading out?”

This must have been a busy day for Kagaya, for Shinobu soon arrived to make a report of her own. “Kochou!” Rengoku addressed her. “There’s new intelligence on a demon. Whatever it is has proven too much for the Corp members who have been sent so far, and many members of the general public have lost their lives as well. This can’t be left as it is.”

Her face knitted with concern. “Could it be one of the Twelve Moon Demons?”

“Quite possibly. Maybe even an Upper Moon.”

“Seems it will be a difficult mission, but I’m not worried if you’re the one handling it.”

Rengoku had concerns of his own. “Kochou, what were you thinking, taking in that head-butting boy? You have talked before about recruiting more Tsuguko, but that could not possibly be what you had in mind.”

Everyone can’t help but care about Tanjirou-kun, can they, she thought, then smiled back. “It’s not as if I’m going to eat him up or anything.” She immediately regretted such a joke, for she could not read Rengoku well enough to know if he’d understand that it was a joke. Even if she were to liken herself to a praying mantis, it was her mate who would be the one in danger.

Rengoku’s warm laughter was a relief. “Of course not! Hahaha! Hahahaha!”

The sound had a way of clearing out the cobwebs of any gloominess in her heart. Rengoku was one of those types like Tanjirou, whom no one could help but like. “Take care,” she said after him, more like a protective charm than for anything for him to hear.

He suddenly turned around. “That’s right! I saw your husband earlier.”

“Oh?” she raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, it seems he made his report before I did. I hear you’ve been neck-deep in your own missions.”

Giyuu, making small talk about her with Rengoku? And showing such an unnecessary amount of concern for her, no less. Her heart warmed at the thought. “It’s only to be expected for a Hashira.”

“I’ll leave you to address your matters with Oyakata-sama now. Really, gobbling up Tsuguko, like a demon. Hahaha! Hahahaha!”

Rengoku had never made a secret of wanting Tsuguko, but he had bad luck of a different sort with them. He needed someone with as much spirit as he had, lest he beat the spirit right out of them with his enthusiastic training. Maybe once Tanjirou was mended up, Shinobu could send him over to Rengoku. The Flame Hashira wouldn’t be a threat to Nezuko after their master’s requests to accept her.

Not that she would tell Tanjirou he wasn’t welcome at the Butterfly Mansion, even if a part of her liked the idea of him being out of her family space. Especially if that family space was ever going to get patched back up.

Giyuu’s stitches were probably ready to come out. That injury had been mended, but in matters of the heart, Shinobu was less sure of herself. Kanae might have known better how to handle a situation like this, but Kanae was gone, and Shinobu's heart sting stung just as much because of it.

Shinobu was used to carrying a wounded heart, all by herself. But a body functions more efficiently when a wound is treated. That was why she sought the company of another Hashira, wasn't it? Even knowing it could be short, having his company was supposed to be nice. Staying on opposite sides of the mansion didn't feel nice at all. Nezuko's existence didn’t really matter to Shinobu one way or another anymore; this all started because Shinobu was angry that Giyuu didn’t talk to her, and now she wasn’t letting him do that at all.

As the thought started to worm its way into her mind that she might be in the wrong, she plucked the thought straight out to examine it. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but there was probably something she should do to set it right. The wriggling sense of sorriness did not tell her what that was.

“Tomioka-san! Your injury is all healed!”

“Yes. It has been for a while.”

“Really? Then I guess you don’t need it looked at anymore. I’m feeling a lot better, and I’ve started Functional Recovery Training!”

“Yes, I heard from Kochou.”

“Oh?” he replied, getting a whiff of the scent that wafted off of Giyuu when he said that name. Tanjirou’s cheeks warmed with a smile before he went on. “I’m also working on constantly sustaining Total Concentration Breathing, even while I sleep!”

“You weren’t already doing that?”

“…ah… er… no… I hadn’t… I didn’t know I was supposed to…”

“…”

“Not! Not that—not that Urokodaki-san wouldn’t have taught me! Maybe he did, but I just forgot, since I was so wrapped up trying to get the basics, so I just… anyway, I think I’m making progress.”

“You should hurry up with that progress. Demons aren’t going to wait.”

“Yes…”

Shinobu could not help but giggle when Tanjirou recalled this conversation to her. “That’s so like him, to be so serious,” she said.

Tanjirou brightened at how her smell changed. It was like it matched her smile that way.

Throughout his hours of Breath practice, Tanjirou often found himself thinking back to those scents they gave off, and how different they were different from the first time he walked in on Shinobu treating Giyuu’s injury (walking in on them had happened on two more occasions since then). Tanjirou had the distinct impression at first that they didn’t like each other, but after spending more time with Shinobu and getting to know her usual scent, maybe he had just been confused.

It didn’t smell like Shinobu or Giyuu disliked each other. It was a little faint, but there was something else there, a nice scent.

Footsteps stopped along the forested path. Shinobu was heading home to the Butterfly Mansion, Giyuu was heading out. They both stopped.

“Good morning,” he said first, meeting her with cool eyes.

“Good morning, Tomioka-san,” she replied.

“How was your mission?”

“Successful. I made it in time, there were no casualties.”

“That’s good. I’ll be away for a couple nights.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I was going to be home tonight.”

“…”

A few seconds went by before Shinobu was driven to fill it. “The north wing must be lonely,” she ventured.

“It’s quiet.”

“Not for long, I’m afraid. Once those boys are recovered, I’ll need to move them somewhere else to open up the hospital beds. We… should move you back, if you don’t want to be bothered.”

“Would you be bothered?”

Her heart dropped. “I don’t know. But I know I’m bothered staying like this.” Saying something that made her seem so pitiful was bothersome too, so she put on her usual plastered smile so that she’d have the confidence to beam back up at him like skewering him with eye contact. “You know what the worst part was about the timing of all this? I was looking forward to a nice night with you after a mission together. You had to go and ruin my mood.” She poked him to emphasize her point.

Giyuu flinched at the poking, for he hadn’t expected to feel such a thing for a while. “That makes sense of why you were being so annoying.”

“You’re in no position to talk about being annoying,” she poked him harder. “And now just when I’m in the mood again, you’re away for two nights.”

As much as he wanted to retort that he could be counted on at any hour, the distance this demon slaying mission required out of him would make him a liar. “I’ll make it up to you next time.”

“I’ll have you know that there are other Hashira who expected you to get punished, and they think it’s my job to do that. I have punishment in mind for you enough,” she poked faster and more forcefully. A giggle even rose to her voice, for it felt strange to be speaking so loosely with him again.

Her glance had fallen to where she poked him in the torso, and when she looked up to his face, she found a sight that filled her stomach with… what was the idiom she had heard once? Filled it with butterflies? That couldn’t have been right, she only thought of butterflies because that was in the mansion name. What also wasn’t right was seeing that look on Giyuu’s face, that happy, innocent smile.

She looked away and pulled her hand back to herself. “Take care on your mission. I would like you to make it up to me.”

“I will. Anything you want.”

“I want us to talk more first,” she frowned, “you never say enough.”

“I’ll try.”

“I guess that’s all I can ask for. I’ll likely be away when you come back, but I’ll leave a letter for you.”

“I’ll write too.”

“You’ll focus on your mission. That was what you promised me.”

“Right,” he said. Giyuu then took to position to burst into a sprint. “Get some rest.”

With that, he took off running. Shinobu stared after him, and his two-winged haori stayed recognizable until he was a small figure in the distance. She wished Giyuu would have scolded her for being frivolous instead of putting that happy smile on his face. She didn’t want him to be that happy.

More than all that, she wished him well on his mission. There was always the chance he wouldn’t come back, as they promised each other in the first place.

In the meantime, Shinobu was left with the most prized living presence in her husband’s life, one whom Giyuu found worth putting his life and marriage on the line for. That charming, cheerful boy was undaunted and doing his best long after the boar boy and blonde boy had given up. For all Shinobu knew, the knowledge that Tanjirou was out there doing his best in his Water Breath training was what sustained Giyuu for all that time before Shinobu had ever surprised Giyuu with the notion of marriage. So much for being the pillar of support she thought she was.

After some sleep, all the check-ups, ongoing poison study, sending Aoi on errands, training with Kanao, and keeping to her regular poison dosage, Shinobu was alone with nothing to do that night. That left her at the whims of her curiosity when she spotted Tanjirou on the roof that evening.

“Hello there,” she said to him. When he did not respond, she addressed him again. “Hello-o-o-o? Hello there. Hello?” She was certain Tanjirou had no hearing problems, so this was a matter of focusing too hard as opposed to Total Concentration, and that was a mistake she couldn’t allow a junior to go on making. “Hello!”

“Yes!” Tanjirou finally responded.

“You’re certainly working hard,” she said softly. Now that she had his attention, she went on. “Even though your two friends have gone off somewhere.” And she had a good idea where, what with what trails of crumbs and mud they were leaving around the mansion. Those two were lucky she had already taken a liking to them, even the furry one.

“Ah…”

Shinobu took a comfortable seat next to Tanjirou. “Aren’t you lonely by yourself?” She regretted right away that she might have revealed too much by saying that.

“Not at all! Once I figure out how to do this, I can teach it to them, too.”

Oh, dear. I’ll need to stop him, she took mental note. “You have such a pure heart.”

“Ah… um… may I ask why you brought the two of us here?”

“Nezuko-san’s presence has been officially accepted, and you were seriously injured. Besides, I…”

She was not going to say anything about doing this for Giyuu, because it wasn’t for him. Even leaving Giyuu out of it, she had her own reasons to feel ill at ease about Tanjirou, and what his presence meant in a way hers never could. Before she knew it, she had found something else true in her heart to say.

“…I’d like to entrust my dream to you.”

“Dream?”

Her heart was wounded, and this was best left to someone better deserving to carry it. Someone who wouldn’t poison it. “Yes. A dream of befriending demons. I’m sure you of all people can manage it.”

As much as she meant that, she hated that it was never something she could have managed. Giyuu was right never to trust her with news of Nezuko, for he knew her too well.

“…Are you angry?” asked Tanjirou, making Shinobu feel jabbed as hard as her ribs were the day Giyuu poked her. “You always sort of smell like you’re angry, even though you’re smiling.”

“You know… you’re right. It might be that I’m always angry…”

…which was why I was so unforgiving…

“…Ever since my sister whom I cared for so much was slaughtered by a demon, and whenever I see the tears of someone who’s lost someone they love to a demon, and whenever I hear those cries of anguish…”

…exactly like he feels...

“…the anger wells up inside of me and there’s no stopping it. In the very depth of my being there’s a hatred I can’t suppress. I’m sure the other Hashira feel similarly…”

…which is why we lean on each other for support…

“At any rate, now that the others have encountered Nezuko-san for themselves and seen that she hasn’t eaten any humans, they’ll remember what her presence is like. What with Oyakata-sama having requested it too, I don’t think anyone will do anything to her,” she said, turning the conversation away from herself and back to the Kamado siblings. She paused before going on. “My sister was a kind person like you. She was sympathetic to demons, and even found it in herself to feel sorry for them in her dying moments. I couldn’t find it in myself to feel the same way. What could I find pitiful about them killing people? That would be ridiculous. But since that was what she wanted, I had to keep trying to think of some way to avoid killing those wretched demons…”

Really, how could Kanae stand to spend her final moments asking such things of her? Be kind to demons, go off and have a happy, fulfilling marriage?

“I had to keep wearing that smile my sister said she loved so much.”

If only Shinobu have been as strong as a Hashira then, so she could manage to somehow let Kanae see that smile one last time instead of her tears and her rage. Even now that she was a Hashira, she knew she'd never be that strong. Here she was, not in any control of her lips as she spilled her heart on and on, like she couldn't handle the loneliness of keeping it all to herself after all.

“But… it wears me out, a bit," she still driveled. "Demons only tell lies. They sacrifice others to selfishly sustain themselves. They blatantly act on their instincts to kill.”

That was enough, she had talked the poor boy’s ear off by now. She took to her feet.

“Tanjirou-kun, please do your best. Protect Nezuko-san. And if I can entrust you to do your best in my place, then I can be at ease. It would take some of the burden off. You’ve stopped your Total Concentration Breathing, you know.”

“…Ah!”

She smiled. If Giyuu had sent this boy to Urokodaki hoping that he’d do his best in the Water Hashira’s place, then Giyuu had a while to wait.

Shinobu left Tanjirou there, with all she had dumped on him about Kanae and her silly wishes, and then as she relaxed in her own quarters, she replayed parts of the conversation in her mind. What an affect Tanjirou had, to get all that out of her. Her own husband had probably never even heard that much! Certainly not any parts about Kanae pestering her to get married, or telling her about the Upper Moon responsible for her death, or about how she loved Shinobu’s smile so much. Shinobu hadn't breathed a word of that to anyone but her master.

What would Kanae have thought of Giyuu’s smile?

Kanae must never have seen it back then, and Shinobu stifled a snort into her pillow as she pictured Kanae’s reaction to such an odd and innocent sight. If there was one person in the world who Shinobu would share that secret sight with, it was only her beloved sister.

And it hurt that she never could. Shinobu found herself sniffling.

It was a passing thought later than night that Tanjirou might have already seen Giyuu’s smile too. Shinobu silently huffed into her pillow about having to share.

Chapter Text

“Oh! He-e-e-y! Tomioka-sa-a-an!” Tanjirou came running around the corner of the garden, waving. “I did it! I broke a gourd!”

“…and?”

“…’and’? Well, I… I’ve made progress with sustained Total Concentration Breathing, so… anyway, I still can’t catch up to Kanao on Functional Recovery training, but I got closer to tagging her hand today!”

“…”

“…and… well… funny seeing you here again! You really like the Butterfly Mansion, don’t you?”

“…”

“You missed Shinobu-san again, though.”

There it was! A whiff of a fragrance Tanjirou had started to expect! He was starting to pick it up as keenly as he could detect a Line of Interval.

“…I’m aware,” replied Giyuu.

“So you might need to come another time… oh…” he trailed off as Giyuu entered the mansion anyway. Still, Tanjirou couldn’t help but smile to himself. Giyuu really did give off a scent of fondness when Shinobu was mentioned!

“Say ‘ah,’ please.”

“Aaaaah.”

“Does it hurt when I press here?”

“Not bad—ouch!”

“Let’s keep you on the medicine a bit longer,” Shinobu said and started writing notes on Tanjirou’s chart.

“By the way, the other day, Tomioka-san came by. I think he’s been looking for you.”

“I’m aware. We saw each other last night on the way to our missions.”

“Really?” He sniffed the air, then broke out into a beaming smile. “That’s great!”

Her pen stopped. She stared at Tanjirou, giving him a chance to go on.

“I mean, uh—since it’s so hard for Hashira to have a chance to run into each other, I’m glad it finally worked out.”

“Here, Tanjirou-kun. Let’s see how your jaw does when it’s closed,” she said, guiding it shut.

Missions continued to keep them annoyingly apart, though they had exchanged a few letters. Shinobu kept Giyuu informed of Tanjirou’s progress, and how quickly he was catching up to Kanao’s level. By his latest update, Giyuu was still going to be away for several days, and Shinobu had another night alone in the mansion.

He’d just tell me to get some rest, she huffed to herself, and then took her regular dose of the wisteria poison. The least Giyuu could try to do was write about more than eating simmered salmon and daikon again.

They couldn’t help not having many chances to see each other, since that was as they promised all this time. But there was still the sense they had not patched things up since having such a big argument. Any chance Shinobu had to show him any tenderness aside from prodding his wound was to jab and poke him as they encountered each other on the path, and there was hardly even time for that. On that one morning they had the time to talk, she should have used that chance to kiss him. But the burden was just as much on Giyuu, for he should have used his chances to initiate a little more. She said she wanted to talk to him more, but all he had to say was about simmered salmon and daikon! Could nothing stir that man up? He couldn’t be surprised if he was going to bore her into leaving him one of these days instead of getting eaten by a demon instead. At least with a demon, Giyuu would have nothing to blame himself for. Nothing about that had anything to do with him. There was still a long way to go before that time anyway. Kanao still had a lot of training to undergo, and for that matter, there were other Corp members who needed some extra training too, especially as they were trying to master 24-hour sustained Total Concentration Breathing.

Sure enough, she found Tanjirou doing a terrible job of teaching it. Zenitsu and Inosuke were, understandably, horrendously confused. Perhaps Tanjirou had the gumption to be a Hashira someday, but she felt terribly sorry for any Tsuguko he might someday take on.

“Maa, maa~!” she came up a behind him with an arm over his shoulder to stop him before he hurt the other boys’ confidence in an unhelpful way. Breaking confidence had to be done in a careful way, like breaking a bone so that it comes back stronger instead of getting crushed to powder. “This is a basic technique, or rather, a beginner technique, so I would have expected you to be able to do it, but it really does take a lot of effort to attain, doesn’t it?”

Now that she had their attention, she went on to more personalized methods. She sat in front of Inosuke first, or rather, his mask. She compared that face to more abhorrent demon faces she had seen, but she found it (mostly) unperturbing. With a firm pat on Inosuke’s shoulder and a fluttering voice she said, “Well, it’s only natural that you should be able to do it. And I was so sure it would be simple for someone like you, Inosuke-kun!” she leaned closer. “But you can’t? Even though you should be able to. Oh well! There’s no helping it that you can’t it. No helping it at all! What a shame.”

“Haaah!?” he snorted hot, stinking air in her face. “I can! I can do it, duh! Don’t underestimate me, or I will tear your breasts right off!”

She was not disturbed in the slightest and moved on to Zenitsu, taking a sweaty hand that she had already so dedicatedly grown back to a size bigger than her own. She changed her tone to one she knew would have the perfect ring in his sensitive ears. “Do your best, Zenitsu-kun! I’m rooting for you most of all!”

His face grew so red that she could guess his temperature with a look. “Aaaa----YES!!”

“Yay—” Shinobu started to cheer, but then she felt an odd presence.

No, it was not odd. It was a presence she knew well. But it was cold, and overwhelming, like a wave too tall for her at the beach. She looked over her shoulder almost expecting to see a wall of water casting a shadow on her, but it was a man standing in the doorway of the dojo.

Giyuu was not supposed to be back already.

Why was he back already!
Had he already slayed the demon?
Of course he had, he was the Water Hashira, that wasn’t surprising at all.

But what was that expression supposed to mean!?

He was staring—he clearly had seen how all of how her training methods transpired—but he looked so blank. Was he confused? Was he angry? He had to have been angry, but if that was the case, couldn’t he have stood to show it a bit instead of making her panic with withholding all clues of exactly how angry he was?

Without a word, Giyuu stepped away from the door. With Inosuke and Zenitsu all fired up and back in their own headspaces, Shinobu forgot about them entirely and spun around to go take off after her husband and explain herself.

“Shinobu-san!”

She stopped, looking over to the boy who whispered her name. Tanjirou had a big smile and looked straight into her eyes.

“I’m rooting for you!”

“Not now, Tanjirou-kun,” she left him there and dashed out of the dojo and around the corner. She had already lost sight of Giyuu.

The nerve, really.

The thought didn’t cross Giyuu's mind that his outstanding debt to allow Shinobu to pester and tease him was so great that she’d try to satisfy it with teenage boys, but teenage boys wouldn’t see it that way. They were bound to take it the wrong way. Those were strange boys who he especially did not want getting the wrong idea about his wife and what her teasing might or might not promise.

Naho served Giyuu lunch, which he ate alone in the family room. It was a relief to eat in silence. He was tired after the mission moved much faster than expected, and cranky for lack of sleep since he was in a rush to get home when he had the chance instead of sleeping where a Wisteria Mansion was more convenient. Seeing his wife show no sense of caution in her dealings with other men made the food all taste bitter and sour.

“Tomioka-san!” she said before she had even finished throwing the door open. “Tomioka-san, I’m sorry—”

“I’m eating.”

“I can explain. That was for the sake of training them. It’s a matter of psychology. They were in need of individualized motivation.”

“You can’t be so flippant about how boys their age will interpret ‘motivation,’” he said back, having found the perfect timing to say a string of words after swallowing a mouthful.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I apologize,” she said, bowing with as much decorum as a shamed bride could muster in such a circumstance.

Giyuu said nothing back, for he was already chewing again. He wasn’t angry enough to want her bowing apologies, though since this was all her methods of psychological manipulation for the sake of social cohesion, he had to assume she might be toying with him too. It wasn't beyond her. Still, he wished more for their apologies than hers. That blonde boy was far too overexcited about any chance to touch so much as a girl’s hand and he had to have been thinking of touching her in places where his hands did not belong, and that other guy—what was his name, Inosuke?—had uttered a threat so rude that Giyuu had every right to go back and throttle him for it.

He was still chewing when he went for another bite, but before he could put it in his mouth, Shinobu knelt next to him. She put her face very close when she asked, “Tomioka-san, are you jealous?”

He put down the food and chopsticks with a soft clatter so he could face her and speak. “Jealous?” he repeated.

She scrambled around to his other side so that she could take his right hand more easily. “Do your best, Tomioka-san! I’m rooting for you!” she sing-songed. “Is this what you’d like?”

“No. It’s so fake that I feel nothing but irritated.”

“Or how about—” she went on, sitting up straighter to reach his shoulder and pat it, “You should be capable, but oh well! I guess you’re not.”

“I’d rather you not,” he replied gravely.

“Or how about,” she began, then scooted behind him. Leaning her torso against his back and raining her fingers down his chest, her voice cooed over his head. “…this?”

“…”

Giyuu said nothing and smiled.

“…You like this, then?”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, basking in all the warmth and softness and curves that he did not want shared with anyone else. Not even the touch of her hand.

“Oh—well then—” she said, sounding flustered. It wasn’t often that he could get that sound out of her. She was so hard to fluster, unless it happened by accident when he was trying to be warm and express humor. It wasn’t the sort of communication he was suited to.

“Come down here,” he said, patting the tatami next to his thigh. She slid down, keeping her arms around him. That placed her chin nearly at his shoulder, exactly where he wanted her. She waited with big expectant eyes for whatever he might say, and that left her unguarded, for she had no way to escape when Giyuu pressed in for a kiss.

“Tomi—”

After a quick Breath of air, he pushed her backward to the tatami so he could keep her head still as he explored her mouth for the first time in ages. She readjusted her arms around his neck, draping the sleeves of her haori across his back, and pulling him so close that the buttons and belt buckles of their uniforms clacked and pressed uncomfortably.

One of the unfortunate things about two Hashira kissing one another was that with constantly sustained Total Concentration Breath, they could never manage to take each other’s breath away. Still, when the time came for more oxygen, they had left each other in a light, satisfying sweat.

“I needed a sweeter taste in my mouth,” he said.

“Come now, not in the dining room. You got rice on my face,” she pushed him back up to sit at his lunch. She brushed her hair back in place and ran her fingertips along her butterfly hairpiece to ensure it took no damage.

“Then in the bedroom?”

“I’m sorry, I have to hurry and go to my mission. I didn’t expect you back so soon, or I’d have arranged something.”

“I’ll do a run of my territory tonight, then.”

“I’m sure I could get Kanroji-san to cover for me tomorrow.”

“And I could ask Shinazugawa…”

“Let’s not bother Shinazugawa-san. We’re the ones who were taking our time.” She leaned against him and patted his arm, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. “With what little time we have, too…”

He had not felt her pulse against him in so long. It was weaker than he remembered it, though it might have been the case that he only knew it in moments of excitement. “You’re not unwell, are you?”

“It’s just my blood pressure. I sat up too fast.”

“…would you like a bite?”

“I’ll rest here until you’re done.”

She made it a little hard for him to eat, but at least everything tasted better now.

Chapter Text

“I want my swords back! I want to go on missions again!” Inosuke beat his fists and feet on the bed.

“Stop that, I just put those sheets on and you’re going to tear them up like that.”

“Yeah, don’t make extra work for Aoi-chan, boar head!”

“Don’t make extra work for me keeping track of your medicine, Zenitsu-san!”

“Eep! That reminds me, did I take it? I don’t taste enough of it in my mouth right now, so that means I didn’t, did I? But what if I did? What happens if I take too much?”

“Maybe you’ll grow extra limbs. Drink more of that stuff, Monitsu.”

“No-o-o-o-o!”

“Off the bed, Inosuke-san, I’m going to fix it.”

With a huff, Inosuke let Aoi get to work, so he took a glance out the window. Something caught his attention, and then he stuck his top half through the frame.

“Careful, don’t break it! Shinobu-sama would be very upset with you!”

Inosuke pulled his body back inside and reported, “Han-han-haori’s taking off again. He’s sure over here a lot.”

“Well, yes,” answered Aoi. “That’s to be expected.”

“Hashira sure stay busy,” Zenitsu remarked. “Still, doesn’t Shinobu-san seem to really like when he’s around? I’ll bet she finds him dependable. She gives off a softer sound than usual when he’s here. Ah!” he covered his mouth and gasped. “Maybe she likes him? She likes him, doesn’t she? That guy??”

“Yes,” Aoi said more slowly, “that’s to be expected. They’re married.”

“MARRIED!?” he shrieked and jumped to his feet on the bed. “A tender maiden like her is married!?”

“Women with her upbringing are usually married by that age. It’s not that’s shocking.”

“Married? Does that involve eating anything?”

“It means they’re a mated pair,” she used terms Inosuke more readily understood. He nodded in clarity, and just as soon did not care. Zenitsu sat blabbering the word ‘married’ to himself over and over until the shock left him.

At this particular moment, Tanjirou was away practicing meditation on the roof. From up there, he spied Shinobu’s figure heading in one direction, and Giyuu’s in another. Tanjirou put his hand over his eyes and squinted to try to follow them further, but he soon found himself off-balance and scrambling to keep his hold on the roof. Recovering his Breath more easily than before, he sat in place again.

I wonder if they saw each other before they left? Those paces, and at that distance, I’ll bet they did. Good for them!

Since they’re both so focused on their missions, it might be hard for them to realize that their feelings are mutual! They’ve both done so much for me that I really want to help them…

“So you see! When I finally had Takeo and Hanako sit down and talk about why they argued, it didn’t go so well until Hanako said how much she cared about Takeo and that she just wanted to spend time with him!”

Shinobu nodded along. “Hm-hmm.”

“And that was what made it easy for Takeo to say that he was just worried about Hanako because he cared about her too!”

“Hmm-hmm-hmm.”

“And then they got along happily and played together after that! So you see, Shinobu-san, sometimes, talking about feelings can be very helpful, and it makes everyone happy.”

“Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm. Tanjirou-kun? Does it hurt when I do this?”

“No—OW!!”

“Better keep that jaw shut, then.”

“Tomioka-san. I don’t suppose Urokodaki-san ever spoke to you about matters of the heart.”

“Controlling one’s heart rate, you mean?”

“One’s heart like one’s spirit. One and the same.”

“He did teach me meditation.”

“Then not those matters, did he? I see. I understand,” Tanjirou nodded to himself, sniffling back a tear in his eye. “There are some matters best learned in a loving family with loving parents, but not everyone is fortunate to receive those lessons. Those of us were who raised with that fortune have a duty to spread it to others.”

“You’re come far enough in your training that you’ve found a lot of Breath to waste.”

Tanjirou’s hands weaved around like a slow fish in the air as he went on. “Loving mothers and fathers, they know these matters most, having been through the lessons themselves. You see? The secret of my parents was that they had no secrets, and they spoke openly to one another.”

“…”

“Speaking from the heart is the only way that souls can find love in one another. Tomioka-san, where are you going? Tomioka-san?”

A few minutes later, Kiyo came with a thermometer to take Tanjirou’s temperature.

Dear Kochou,
Your mission must be taking extra time. I’m sorry to leave before you return. You may want to be mindful of the dosage of Tanjirou’s medication, because he was trying to teach me strange things about love and spirits. I’m worried about him.
Please rest well. I brought home gingerroot and the girls plan to braise it the way you like.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu

Dear Tomioka-san,
It may be in Tanjirou-kun’s personality to speak in nonsensical tangents. I have also noticed he is especially keen to talk about love-related topics. Perhaps he finds that Inosuke-kun and Zenitsu-kun do not lend their ears to it much. I can assure you I am well-rested and that there have been no medicinal errors in Tanjirou-kun’s dosage.
You must look tired, so Tanjirou-kun may have been showing concern for you. I could show you concern myself if you take a longer rest at home next time.
Sincerely,
Shinobu

Dear Kochou,
I have every intention of a longer stay at home, but I have worked up too much of a debt to you for it to be restful. The Butterfly Mansion has gotten very noisy as certain patients have advanced in their recovery. I propose we meet elsewhere.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu

Dear Tomioka-san,
I concur. There is a particularly nosy patient.
Sincerely,
Shinobu

Dear Kochou,
Do you mean Agatsuma Zenitsu?
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu

Dear Tomioka-san,
I mean Tanjirou-kun.
Sincerely,
Shinobu

Dear Kochou,
Tanjirou is understanding and we can ask him to keep his cohorts busy until they’re sent on another mission. Are they almost recovered or not? Tanjirou sent me a letter about how he has attained constant Total Concentration Breathing. He has also advised me that I am likely welcome in the Butterfly Mansion, so I thought I should consult with you about that odd wording. I have always wondered if Kanao was protective of you as her remaining sister and did not want me there. Perhaps he talked to her about it? Should I speak with her? If so, what should I speak to her about? I have been concerned about this for some time and I apologize that I did not consult with you sooner.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu

Dear Tomioka-san,
I asked Kanao if she had any misgivings, and I found her believable when she said she had none. She is very honest if you ask her anything directly. You can talk with her about whatever you want.
I have a different matter to consult with you about. Have you never told Tanjirou-kun you live here?
Sincerely,
Shinobu

Dear Kochou,
I thought it was obvious.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu

Dear Tomioka-san,
I believe I may know the source of these issues. I would say I’m surprised how little you’ve actually spoken with Tanjirou-kun, but I’m not.
Sincerely,
Shinobu

P.S. Poor En is very tired out from our correspondence and she needs to save her strength for corresponding with Oyakata-sama about my missions. Could you please have Kanzaburou send your reply?

Dear Tomioka-san,
I know your mission must be keeping you very busy. I hope you’re well, and I apologize for the curt tone of my previous letters. We will never know how many chances we’ll have for apologies, will we?
I was going to ask you to do it, but I’ll inform Tanjirou-kun of our marriage.
Sincerely,
Shinobu

“Tanjirou-kun. Before I inspect your chin today, I have something else to talk to you about.”

“Actually, I have something else to talk to you about, too!”

“That’s what I was afraid of. You see, it’s very rude to try to play a matchmaker for a couple that is already married.”

“Huh?” he stopped, not seeing any connection matchmaking could have to Hinokami Kagura. Certainly, his father was married. The last time he had brought up that fact was to Giyuu. And Tanjirou had brought up that fact to Giyuu because—“Oh!!" he slapped his hands against his cheeks and screamed. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

“That’s a good sign that your jaw is better. As I thought, Tomioka-san never mentioned anything to you.”

Tanjirou folded forward and buried his face in his hands. “I was so out of line. What business did I think I had teaching Tomioka-san anything?”

“I’m sure he could use a lesson or two, but perhaps from more experienced places.”

“Was this—,” he gasped, “Was this supposed to be a secret? Did I expose your secret? I promise, I haven’t told anyone!”

“No, it’s no secret. It’s just not much of a topic,” she assured him. “I only go by ‘Kochou’ because more members of the Corp know me that way. It would be confusing to have two Hashira go by the same name.”

“Does Kanao know? Do Aoi-san, and Kiyo-chan, and Naho-chan, and Sumi-chan, do they all know?”

“Yes, of course. Tomioka-san lives here, when he’s not on his missions.”

“A-a-a-ah! No wonder he was here so often!”

“I’m afraid you may be the only here who didn’t know.”

“What?”

“The other day, Zenitsu-kun said to me, ‘Shinobu-san, you could do better than Tomioka-san, you know,’ and when I came back from my mission with only Kanao, Inosuke-kun asked me, ‘where’s your half-and-half mate?,’ so I think they know.”

“I was the only one who didn’t know!?”

“Well, perhaps Nezuko-san doesn’t know. I don’t think either of us have told her.”

“Tomioka-san… never thought to tell me…”

“Like I said, it’s not a topic. It’s merely two Hashira supporting one another. Until the inevitable, that is. If there’s no expectation of a long and peaceful union, it alters how much other people would find it worth celebrating, after all.”

“A long and peaceful union is never assured for anyone, Shinobu-san.”

Shinobu felt a sinking feeling worm up in her chest, an odd combination of sensations. Some psychosomatic symptoms of something or other, so she ignored it. “Let’s take a look at that chin, then.”

“I do still have something else to ask you about, though!”

Dear Kochou,
I apologize for the suddenness of this letter. I heard from the Kakushi that you were in the area. Please follow the Kakushi who is delivering this letter to where we can take a rest tomorrow. If we both survive the night, I will repay my debts and accept my long-awaited punishment.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu

P.S. I’m sorry, I didn’t know that Tanjirou didn’t know we were married. I just sent a formal announcement to Urokodaki-sensei as well for good measure.

Giyuu,
You’re lucky I catch on faster than Tanjirou does. Congratulations all the same. Please treasure one another with all the chances you have.
Sincerely,
Urokodaki Sakonji

Chapter Text

“Giyuu-san,” she traced her finger down his torso lightly before poking him with only the tip of her fingernail, like a bee sting. It made his lower abs clench. The dim light of the secluded Wisteria Mansion danced off the curves of her face and glinted around her smiling lips and silvery eyes.

“You’ll be interfering with my mission if you punish me any more than this,” he replied.

“None of that was punishment and you know it.” She set her head down at his shoulder, draping his right arm over herself like a blanket; her hand and teasing fingernails then rested across his chest. “What I want is to hear you talk to me.”

“…do you mean you want me to tell you the story starting two years ago?”

“Tell me anything you want to. I just want to hear your voice. Tell me about your friend Sabito-san, or your sister Tsutako-san. Anything that’s made you into the Hashira you are today.”

“Nothing has made me a Hashira aside from Oyakata-sama saying so.”

“I can’t know how to support you if you don’t tell me how.”

He changed the topic. “Do you think any of the others find support in one another?”

“Hmm. I don’t suppose they would say so unless we ask, right? Seems a bit lewd, and they may not wish to be outed, you know.”

“Not like that. Like how you and Kanroji are friends.”

“Would you like friends, Tomioka-san? You can only do that if you talk more, you know. You talk to Rengoku-san at least, right?”

“I’ve said hello.”

“I’m sure you’ve said more than that.”

“I don’t know talk much,” he grumbled. She knew that much, what with how much it annoyed her.

“I really wish you would talk to them more. Since I see you so little as it is, I worry about you…”

He turned on his side, leaving his back to her. “I’m not like them. I shouldn’t trouble them.”

“Isn’t it that you’re just afraid of…”

“Of what?”

“Well, having to add another stripe to your haori, I suppose.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “What are you going on about?”

“Only what’s to be expected someday,” she yawned. “We may as well know each other’s wishes. I think you look fine with only two sides to your haori, and I don’t want you adding Neesan’s. If something happens to me, pass it down to Kanao in one piece, please. And? What would you like done with yours? Should I deliver it to your cultivator?”

“…Tanjirou.”

“Tanjirou-kun. I see. Understood. Good talk.” She yawned again, then turned over on her side to leave her back to him too.

“It’s too big for you.”

She looked back at him over her shoulder. “I have my own to wear. For that matter, I think Tanjirou-kun’s may be a family pattern.”

Giyuu flinched, realizing that might be reason for Tanjirou to reject his haori if it was given to him.

“Oh, I’ve got it,” Shinobu went on, “How about Inosuke-kun? He doesn’t have family.”

“Don’t joke.”

She snuggled her hands and cheek against the pillow. “You should spend more time with him. He really looks up to you, you know.”

“Don’t talk about him like he’s our son.”

“We wouldn’t be replacing anyone that way, aside from a taxidermized boar.”

Giyuu sat up. “How would we raise our own child anyway? Let’s talk about that.”

She paused a moment before rolling back to stare at him. “I need some rest before my mission, too.”

“If we’re discussing serious matters, then we should settle this. What will we do if you conceive while we have missions to do?”

“I’m not going to, so we don’t have to talk about it. Maybe someday after we’ve eliminated all the demons, like we said before. We can have as many children as you like then. Then again, maybe trying out just one is a good place to start. Neither of us know to do with babies in the first place.”

“Then that’s the first order of business. Arranging childcare. Perhaps if I asked Urokodaki-san to come to the Butterfly Mansion…”

“The first order would be a baby surviving my missions.”

“…I assumed you would rest, if that were the case.”

She touched his arm, and her touch was weak. He could snap her wrist off if he grabbed it too tightly. “This is the only rest we get. Lie down, Tomioka-san. Let’s sleep while we can.”

She was right. When he settled down to the pillow, she nestled in close, and the scent of her hair wafted under his nose. Not more than a few seconds passed before she scooted up the pillow, planting faint kisses all the way up to his forehead.

“If it makes you happy, we can dream about it,” she whispered so softly that it whisked him away to a hazier state. “Our first born, round and healthy as a goldfish. Cheeks so pudgy that their eyes look like they’re always smiling…”

“Tomioka-san! Tomioka-san, come quickly! We have an urgent matter!”

Giyuu looked up through the crowded market street to find Kanzaburou flying overhead in the blazing sunshine and leading Shinobu his way. It wasn’t like her to lose her calm. Fearing that something had happened to Kagaya or one of the girls of the Butterfly Mansion, Giyuu pushed his way through the crowd to reach her sooner. Once he had a firm grip on her shoulders, he asked, “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“It’s Rengoku-san…!”

“Rengoku?” His eyes tightened.

“He’s had a terrible misunderstanding!”

“…What?”

She put a hand to her forehead as the words bubbled out. “I ran into Uzui-san this morning. Oh, I have never seen that man look so disturbed. It didn’t occur to either of us until now what Rengoku-san meant.”

“I’m having trouble following this. Sit down. Here.”

“Rengoku-san ran into Uzui-san on his way to the train station yesterday. He inquired how Uzui-san’s wives were faring at their missions, and then mentioned how surprising it was that I would allow Uzui-san to have three wives.”

“I don’t see why that’s relevant. Here, drink some water.”

“Neither did Uzui-san. He couldn’t make any sense of why Rengoku-san would add ‘but I suppose it helps that she’s busy, too.’”

“You are busy, though.”

She said with gravity, “Tomioka-san. Rengoku-san has gotten the belief into his head that I’m married to Uzui-san.”

“…”

“Does this not upset you at all? That your wife’s honor is at stake?”

“If you’ve ever provided ‘motivational training’ to Uzui then I can’t blame anyone for misunderstanding—”

“I’ve done no such thing.”

“This isn’t urgent, Kochou,” his tone turned severe, “If Rengoku’s departed on a mission then there’s no sense in distracting him over a matter like this.”

Shinobu was silenced. She flushed a deep shade of red, and her frowned acknowledged how right Giyuu was.

“Go home and rest.”

“No, I should use the dojo first with Kanao.”

“My honor as a husband is at stake if I let you do that. Your lips have gone white. Set aside being a Hashira a moment, you’re too shaken over a trifling matter.”

Shinobu slid her hand from her forehead to her lips at their mention, then put her hand before her face to see how it trembled. The skin under her nails was pale, too.

Set aside being a Hashira indeed… she’d barely be able to keep a grip on her sword like this. She had overestimated how high she could raise the wisteria poison dose; a pathetic misstep. “You’re right. I have no reason to be shaken over this—ah—Tomioka-san?”

“You’re Tomioka-san,” he answered, close to her ear, for he had picked her up in his arms and had her high above the ground.

“Please don’t.”

“Is this uncomfortable?”

“Please,” she lowered her face, though it could not hide how flushed she was. “I’m already so embarrassed. What kind of Hashira am I, really…”

Since he had made his point, Giyuu decided it was unnecessary to say any more.

A day later, at the grave words of her crow, Shinobu had forgotten all about some passing, trifling embarrassment.

“Is that so…”

Giyuu was likewise short of words when his crow caught up to him.

“…I see.”

If the news had come to them at night, the demons would have been a blessing. It would have made their nerves steely and unphased. Unwavering, just as Hashira should be.

Hashira had to be unwavering, for they had a Corp to uphold any time one of them crumbled. Nothing about that ever changed. Maybe it would have been better if two of those pillars were not leaning on one another. It made them too reliant on one another, too unstable.

The news traveled fast and came to them both in the morning. They were both nearby the Butterfly Mansion had plans to rest there in the hours before their relentless nighttime missions. It wasn't long before they were both inside, and facing one another.

Shinobu cracked a softer smile than usual under a tight brow. “We’re back, Tomioka-san.”

By that face, Giyuu could tell she already knew, so all he did was nod. That was all it took for her to start crying. This was not the moment to chide her that a Hashira could not be swayed, even if no one could afford for her to be. But this was why Giyuu had married her, wasn’t it? If she was unsteady, then this was why he had to be so numbly grounded.

The loss of the Flame Hashira, of someone like Rengoku made it feel like there had been a deep cavity inside of Giyuu that had a torch he had never noticed, not until it had gone out. What was left was cold, damp, shadowed, and echoing. Numb.

If he was to feel so emptied, maybe it was because this would be a place for Shinobu to hide her screams. Once they were alone in the safety of their bedroom, she buried her face against his chest she wailed.

“How can you be so strong, Tomioka-san?” she whispered as she got a hold of herself. “How are you so unswayed? I know, you have to be, if you’re going to be a Hashira. To stand in the place of any who fall. And they just keep falling. Here I am, being such a child. Throwing a tantrum over what I always knew to expect.”

“…”

She was right. This wasn’t very Hashira-like of her. Someone like Rengoku would never succumb to shock like this.

Shinobu trembled on. “I’m the one between us who doesn’t deserve to stand among the Hashira, being so crushed by this.”

She’s the one who’s not worthy of being a Hashira? Then what does that make me? What do you expect me to say?

He had to say something, or he’d annoy her. But what words could he say? He couldn’t feel any words unless he scraped with his bare hands at the cold, rocky walls of the darkened cave of his heart. Each word he dug out hurt like listening to the screech of his fingertips being ground down bloody and raw.

“I—” he pushed his voice, only to hear it crackle and strain, “—don’t want anyone else to die.”

She pulled away to stare at him—her hair a mess, her eyes puffy, and her nose filled with snot. Even though Giyuu had never seen her like this, it reminded him of what she was like back when she was 14 and running a hospital. Maybe it was because there was no trace of her smiling façade. Her anger at all the injustice was raw.

And how must he look? He must have looked like a wreck himself for her expression to have wrenched so drastically at the sight of him. All that anger had turned to horror.

Shinobu’s lips suddenly wrinkled, and her eyes shimmered with a new rush of tears. “Oh, Tomioka-san. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t meant to take it out on you. When this is already such a sore spot for you in the first place,” she squeaked, burying her face back against him as she squeezed fistfuls of his haori. “I’m the cruelest. I’m sorry…”

‘Your grief can’t sway me, because a Hashira cannot be swayed.’
‘That is why we must support each other, these two weak Hashira that we are.’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’

All things he would have liked to have said, if only he could manage words. But if he dug anymore, that dark cavern where the torch had gone out felt like it was at risk of caving in.

It had been restless and joyless, and they lost any chance of sleep.

Once Shinobu did finally doze off, she awoke with a scream. She sounded just like children whom Giyuu had encountered on his missions, on the times when he arrived too late. Shinobu had woken herself up with it too, and apologized right away, trying to plaster her usual smile on as she said that night terrors were an old habit, and she’d even caused Himejima trouble with it many years ago, and how much she hoped he didn’t remember. It was so childish of her, she tried to laugh at herself. It had only stopped once she and Kanae took up their swords.

Were their swords supposed to be a comfort? Was it supposed to give them some feeling of control? Not for Giyuu. Not for how many times he had failed to stop those screams from happening in the first place.

As the daylight rolled by, Giyuu faced that it was time to prepare for the unforgiving night ahead. The world would not stop for them. They had to keep moving forward, despite how all Giyuu wanted every time this happened was to move time backwards. If time could only move backwards, he could have sent warning to Rengoku, or gone to fight alongside him. If time could go back further and further, he would have found some way to incapacitate Sabito instead, to have Tsutako hide instead. But no matter how long he might search that dark cave inside himself, there would be no exit to the past.

Any flicker of hope to set a light back in the cavity he felt inside him, anything would do to keep moving. Shinobu needed light as well.

Before getting out of bed, he leaned his lips over her ear. “Let’s dream about it, then. I’d like a boy, and a girl. So that they can have a sibling, like we did.”

“That would be nice,” she faintly whispered back.

“Bright smiles and laughs… jokes to themselves that we don’t always understand…”

“Voices that always make us feel warm…”

“…even when they cry.”

“But they’ll never cry because of demons,” she dragged herself to a sitting position. This was all the time she could give herself to wake up, and she reached for his hand to help her out of bed. He wrapped his hand on top of her fingers first, a reminder of the promise etched on both his blade and in his heart.

Chapter Text

Naho frowned. “Tanjirou-san has been so down.”

“Yeah,” agreed Zenitsu. He looked over to Inosuke, who wasn’t much better himself. “He’s never been through a mission like that before. Especially not one that ended like that.”

“I wish there was some way to cheer him up,” added Kiyo.

Then Sumi suggested, “Maybe he’d cheer up with a game.”

“A game?”

“Yes. Shinobu-sama and Giyuu-sama have been playing one to keep their spirits up…”

Aoi flinched from the other side of the room. “That’s what they’re calling it?”

“That’s what Shinobu-sama is calling it,” Sumi went on. “She says, dreaming of the future is a normal thing that normal married couples do, or that anyone does. Being imaginative is what makes it fun like a game.”

“What kind of game?” asked Zenitsu.

“She and Giyuu-sama are talking about their future babies.”

“EEEEEEHHH!? Is she—is Shinobu-san—is she—”

“She made it very clear that she is not,” said Aoi. “Really, it’s been very… odd, on that side of the mansion lately. I know Tomioka-sama knows none of it is real, but with the way he says things…”

“…you can never tell if he’s joking,” the three other girls added.

“What kinds of things does he say?”

They thought a moment, then offered details in succession.

“He’ll teach him Water Breath.”

“But not until he’s two years old.”

“And they’ll do woodworking and bamboo crafts together.”

“Hm. And Shinobu-san?”

“She wants the child to weigh at least fifteen kilograms before he starts Breath training.”

Inosuke turned over in bed to join the conversation. “I don’t think they know much about babies.”

“I don’t suppose you know more, Inosuke-san.”

“They do know they have to feed it, right?”

“I think they do know that much, Inosuke-san.”

“A baby between the two of them, huh,” Zenitsu stared off. “If they were to a have a girl, I’ll bet she’d be every bit as elegant as Shinobu-san. And they’d name her after Nezuko-chan.”

“They’d have a child as strong as Han-Han-Haori. But the same voice and hair as Shinobu.”

“We’re both talking about a little girl, right?”

“But the hair covers its whole body, and when it stands on its hind legs, it’s as tall as a deer.”

“Well, I think you got the idea of the game,” Aoi said with a wry smile.

The on again, off again game had the misfortune of overlapping with another pattern occurring in Giyuu and Shinobu’s marriage.

“Tomioka-san!” she hissed at him as he came into the Butterfly Mansion late one morning. “Kanzaburou came back hours ago and said you were right behind him. Where have you been?”

Giyuu, bewildered by her angry reaction, replied simply, “With Tanjirou.”

“In the hospital, you mean?”

“Yes. He’s injured.”

“I know that. I just thought you’d tell me you got home. I wish you wouldn’t worry me like that.”

She closed the shoji screen behind her now that she had ascertained he had not run into any accident. This was fortunate for Giyuu, for he had nothing to say and could not fathom why Shinobu would be so concerned in daylight hours when demons could not attack.

The incident was easily forgotten. Missions filled with legitimate reasons to fear terrible incidents were near nightly, for nothing ever changed for Hashira. Shinobu’s daylight hours were filled with hospital and lab work, and Giyuu’s were taken up by the travel to and from his faraway missions.

But the Butterfly Mansion was now his home. It was a place where other swordsmen recovered so they could continue their work, a place that provided safety for the orphaned innocent, and now a place that kindled what hope Giyuu had a change in the endless fight against demons. He knew not to always expect her there, but this was also the home where his wife lived, and there was something genuine and sweet in her smile when he arrived.

In the pockets of luck between their Hashira work, the spouses found moments of togetherness and support. In one especially precious moment when they could relax in each other’s arms, Giyuu was in a good mood that day—so much so that he was smiling. Shinobu didn’t mind not being able to see his gooey cheeks while she rested her head against him. Being so close, she could enjoy the timbre of his voice like others might enjoy the purr of a cat.

“You must have had a very good day today,” she remarked.

“I got to come home today. It’s refreshing.”

“Of course. We all need rest.”

“It’s not only that. It’s a reminder of who I raise my blade for.”

“Oh?”

“It goes to show that my efforts are meaningful to someone.”

“Do go on.”

“That is person doing well. It’s gratifying.”

She hid a giggle in her voice and snuggled closer. “What a lucky person. Who might that be?”

“Tanjirou.”

“…oh.”

Little by little, Tanjirou’s abdominal stab wound healed, and he was able to spend more time out of bed as he recovered his strength. Although not cleared for nighttime missions yet, he assured Shinobu that he was able to go out on little daytime missions—with her permission, of course, unlike that time he slipped out to the Rengoku estate. This gave Shinobu an idea, and she waited to enact it until the moment Giyuu would pass through the garden on his way to rest at home for a few hours.

“Tomioka-sa-a-a-an!” she called his name and then grabbed Tanjirou’s hand. “Tanjirou-kun has offered to accompany me to go run errands!”

She smiled widely, tensely, in his direction. Giyuu stared back with an empty expression, the sort that might be confused, or might be angry. Of the two possibilities, Shinobu had one she was hoping for.

The very next instant, her husband’s face turned into that gooey, glossy, unnaturally pure smile. “That’s very nice of him,” Giyuu replied.

Shinobu, more committed to her own stubbornness than anything else, stormed off to the market, holding Tanjirou’s hand the whole way. Tanjirou wisely chose not to ask any questions.

Still, it weighed on him.

“I’m starting to feel like I’m causing problems for Shinobu-san,” Tanjirou heaved a sigh as he got ready to tuck in for bed.

“You are,” confirmed Aoi.

“Eek!” Kiyo flinched, thinking someone might have found out about the secret feverish thermometer readings She looked ready to cry with shame, so Tanjirou scrambled to cover both for her and for himself.

“Not like that! I know I already cause a lot of trouble like that. I meant between Shinobu-san and Tomioka-san, in their marriage.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Zenitsu. “Shinobu-san isn’t actually interested in you, or any of us. It’s just in her personality to get your hopes up.”

“No, I don’t think it’s like that. I’ve had a history of misreading things between them, which I know annoyed her before. Tomioka-san didn’t seem as bothered, but…”

Inosuke folded his arms. “Yeah. You can’t do any wrong in that guy’s eyes.”

“That’s it!” Zenitsu pointed at him.

“Ah!” Aoi pointed at Zenitsu, realizing the same thing.

“Right!?” Zenitsu pointed back at her.

“What?” the little girls crowded in.

“Shinobu-san is the one who’s jealous of Tanjirou!” announced Zenitsu.

“Eh-h-h-h!?”

“Tomioka-san doesn’t show a shred of concern for anybody but him, after all.”

“He’s nice to us,” Naho insisted with puffed cheeks.

Aoi took it from there. “Even if ‘jealousy’ isn’t the right name for it, Tanjirou-san has been the cause of the single biggest issue their marriage has ever faced. I was even a little concerned that they might break up when Nezuko-san’s existence came to light.”

“Oh! Then because he took Santarou’s side, Shinobu got mad at Han-Han-Haori?”

“I think she was more upset he kept it secret for so long.”

Tanjirou put his hands to his head and wanted to make himself smaller. “Nh-h-h-h! Tomioka-san, I’m sorry…”

“It was worse than that,” came the rare sound of Kanao’s voice. She had a glassy smile, and her voice was so soft that everyone silenced themselves to hear it. “Tanjirou stood trial for breaking Corp rules and was nearly executed. Shihan would have condemned Tomioka-san to death with him.”

She remained smiling, and everyone else remained silent. When they looked back to Tanjirou, he had done his best to make himself as small as possible.

“Tomioka-san… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Well,” struggled Aoi, “maybe all you can be do is be mindful to let them spend time alone together. They don’t get many chances, after all.”

“I’ll do my best not to keep Tomioka-san’s attention to myself. I just want to keep showing him how far I’ve come, since he’s the one who saved me and Nezuko, after all. And the one who started me on this path in the Demon Slayer Corp. I know he expects a lot out of me since he introduced me to the same cultivator, and I don’t want to let him down.”

“Then I’ll have him train me!” volunteered Inosuke. “I’ll impress him instead!”

“That’ll send him flying back to Shinobu-san for better company, that’s for sure,” groaned Zenitsu. Then he yawned. “Probably wouldn’t help if any of us tried to meddle in it. Tomioka-san wouldn’t get the point of any delicate romantic advice even if someone tried really hard to make it plain and simple and obvious.”

“Ng-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!” Tanjirou groaned higher and held his head tighter.

With the boys being regular residents of the Butterfly Mansion between their missions, their chances of encountering Giyuu or Shinobu were frequent, if short.

Still, sometimes missions finished early. The warmer weather made outdoor training sessions livelier. With the little girls giggling and cheering about sitting on the boys’ backs to help them with their push-ups, the laughter stirred curiosity.

Aoi found herself pausing as she passed through the garden with a basket of laundry. The happy sounds summoned Shinobu and Kanao from their training to take a break and come watch. When Giyuu came home, he noticed everyone gathered in one place. Naturally, he found himself joining them.

“Hello. Welcome back,” Shinobu smiled to him as he took a seat on the veranda with her.

“Weighted push-ups?” he asked.

“Yes. I suppose I should do these for Kanao. I might weigh enough to give her a challenge.” Kanao, sitting at Shinobu’s other side, flushed at being mentioned and was not sure how to respond.

The girls counted to the tune of a whistle each time they went up. “37! 38! 39! 40! 41!”

“GYYYYAAAAAHHH!!” groaned Zenitsu.

“They haven’t done these for very long, have they?” asked Giyuu.

“No, indeed,” answered Shinobu. “It seems they only started trying them last week.”

“I would start our child at 4-years-old with this.”

“I’d wait until twenty kilograms. Oh! Inosuke-kun seems pretty good at this.”

“HHHRRRGHH!!” grunted the boar.

“Say, Tomioka-san.”

“Hm?”

“What would we name our first-born son?”

The tone in Shinobu’s voice did not have the same sprinkle of levity to it, so everyone in the garden found themselves listening, and keeping quieter voices.

“45…”

“46…”

“47…”

“There are a lot of good options, among the names of people you’ve spoken of before,” Shinobu went on.

Giyuu closed his eyes in thought. “Hmm.”

“What might have a nice ring to it, I thought, was Sa—”

“Tanjirou.”

“Kya—” Kiyo squealed as she tumbled off of Zenitsu, who had collapsed. The garden was otherwise dead silent, with the other two boys, especially not Tanjirou, unwilling to move the slightest muscle. Tanjirou’s arms nonetheless shook violently, as did the rest of him. Sweat poured in his eye, but he kept very, very still, trying to keep from being perceived.

“…I see.”

The cool tone in Shinobu’s voice gave everyone some idea what expression she might have had, but no one wanted to look.

The one who spoke in the coolest tone of all, however, seemingly took no notice. Giyuu continued, “And if it’s a girl, perhaps you’d like to name her after Kanae.”

“Well. We already have Kanao. I don’t suppose that’s necessary.”

“Are you sure? Then in that case, ‘Nezuko.’”

“AHHH!!!” Zenitsu screamed and sat up and pointed at Giyuu, his face flushed and red with the satisfaction of being proven right.

“47. You were on 47,” Aoi hurriedly said as she helped Kiyo up, brushed her off and then nudged Zenitsu by the shoulder to reassume the position. “Come on, then, hurry and finish up. Everyone has things to do.”

“47! 48! 49!” Tanjirou counted through gritted teeth and went too fast for the others to keep a consistent pace, for Zenitsu complained that he wasn’t ready yet and Inosuke tried to go double Tanjirou’s speed.

“Sh-Shihan—do we—should I—do push-ups with them?”

“That’s right, we’ve had a long break, haven’t we, Kanao? Time to get back to reality. Let’s let Tomioka-san have the dojo now and we’ll switch to the front garden.”

“Already? Thank you, that’s considerate,” he said, standing and heading in that direction. When both he and Shinobu were out of earshot, the boys gave up on their push-ups and collapsed.

Over the following week, Inosuke tried to help, in his own way.

“Me! Train with me!” He pointed to himself with both thumbs and stood in Giyuu’s way.

Giyuu gave him a grimace. “I don’t have time for someone who doesn’t know his own capabilities.” He then walked off.

Had that icy answer have come from anyone else, Inosuke would have followed them and not left that person alone until they were the ones who had a thorough understanding of Inosuke’s capabilities. Having come from Giyuu, the one who rescued Inosuke after the harrowing loss he suffered to a spider demon, the memories of how overwhelmed the King of the Forest had been rained through his mind and dampened his wild spirit.

It was the sort of thing Inosuke needed to be reminded of, sometimes, if he was going to be able to truly take care of himself out there.

At least, that was what Shinobu thought to herself as she saw Inosuke slouch so gloomily after the interaction. A good broken bone of confidence. She knew that must be hard for him to accept, since he had already done such a good job taking care of himself out there in the mountains, all alone. Even with so big a world he had already conquered, his world was still small.

“You know, Inosuke-kun,” she said, coming up behind him, “I don’t believe I know all your capabilities either. Could you show me how flexible you are?”

“…You really want to see?”

“Yes, I do!”

He twirled his arms and cracked his joints, then assumed a pose he seemed especially practiced at with his head poking between his ankles on the ground. “How’s that?”

“Wow, incredible!” she clapped her hands. “I’ve only seen one other person who’s as flexible as that, and she’s a Hashira.”

“Really? A Hashira!?”

“Yes! You still have a way to go before you’re as strong as her, I’m afraid. But given the way your joints move, you might be even more flexible than her.”

“Oh! Ohhh!”

“Show me what you can do with your arms.”

Cr-crack-crack-cr-crackle-crack—“How’s that!?”

“Wow, amazing! Now we just need to think about how to protect those joints from damage. That will take training the muscles around them. How about I plan a regimen especially for you?”

“For me? A special one?”

“A special regimen for an especially flexible swordsman. Something no one else could likely handle.”

“Not even Han-Han-Haori?!”

“Oh, especially not him. For being a Water Breather, he can be rather inflexible. But to keep your joints safe, you must train exactly as I tell you to. Well then? Shall we see how much stronger you can get?”

Inosuke agreed, and thereafter, Inosuke was always a little bit more cheerful whenever Shinobu came into a room or spoke to him. Even with his true face hidden, it was obvious how he lit up. Shinobu spirit couldn’t help but have lifted spirits too. How could she not, when someone was always so happy to see her? Was that the feeling of having an excitable pet more like a dog or a cat or a rabbit than like a fish? Inosuke was furrier than a fish, after all.

Inosuke was more elated about her tutelage than any serious Tsuguko had ever been. That fluffy, howa-howa sort of feeling reminded her that she couldn’t blame Giyuu for finding Tanjirou so endearing, and she was happy for Giyuu to have found someone who could give him that feeling.

Giyuu took notice of that new warmth between Shinobu and Inosuke. He made no comment, nor could any emotion be read on his blank expression as he chewed his rice bite by bite and considered it.

This was still the same Inosuke who had once rudely threatened to tear off Shinobu’s breasts, which Giyuu did not like him taking any notice of in the first place.

On the other hand, Inosuke was preferrable to Zenitsu.

For that matter, Giyuu never liked it when Zenitsu took Nezuko to go pick night-blooming flowers either. Giyuu often questioned Tanjirou’s judgement in allowing that to happen.

It was also very, very irritating that Tanjirou was focusing so much on Hinokami Kagura instead of perfecting his Water Breathing.

Still, he chewed his rice and no one was any the wiser.

“Shinobu-sa-a-a-an!”

Tanjirou was supposed to be busy on his own missions again, so it was a surprise to hear him out there in her territory. When she turned around, Tanjirou was wearing his Corp uniform and checkered haori, the wooden box for Nezuko, and Kanzaburou on his shoulder. He waved one hand, and in the other, he held a folded piece of paper.

“I think a letter for you was delivered to me by mistake,” he said.

“What? Oh dear,” she said as she accepted it, “it looks like the name got runny in the rain.”

“Yes, that’s why I was confused when I read it. It’s from Tomioka-san.”

Shinobu didn’t show it, but the nerves connected to her sense of privacy and decorum fired. What had Giyuu written, and in what way could Tanjirou have been confused by it? She knew Tanjirou never meant to be nosy, but he was, and surely a boy his age could not help but be made curious?

“And—uh—Shinobu-san—”

“Yes?”

He looked fidgety and awkward. Whatever he was going to say was going to be the truth, for this was Tanjirou, but he was trying to find the right way to say whatever it was. Shinobu already dreaded how delicately she might need to respond. Her husband better not have made any reference to accepting punishments.

“I never should have tried to meddle in anything. I never would have read the letter at all if I knew it was yours either.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t. It might have caused you some alarm.”

“I’m afraid I might be causing some issues between you two. If there’s anything I can do to amend that, please tell me. You and Tomioka-san are both very important people to me, and I just want you two to be happy.”

Shinobu’s heart warmed. Tanjirou really was infectious, no matter how hard he might try not to be. “I can’t think of anything to blame you for. Once you’re aware of something, you always do your best to be considerate. I’m also very glad that you’re there for Tomioka-san.”

“Me? I’ve never really done anything for him. Especially after all he’s done for me and Nezuko. If anything, I’m just always trying to make sure I don’t disappoint him.”

Shinobu shook her head. “That’s all you need to do. The thing about Hashira is that… though I can’t speak for all of them, perhaps we’re all afraid of crumbling. It’s our duty to support the Demon Slayer Corp, and we cannot sway. But we need support as well.”

As she thought of all Giyuu’s gooey smiles, her heart dropped.

“Try as I might to support Tomioka-san on my own, it’s different. He needs to see how his efforts have helped someone, and how that has some connection to the future of this Corp. At least, we all try to connect with some sort of future. Sometimes we have to play make-believe that it’s there, since we’ve seen so many futures come to such an unfair end. But seeing you doing your best out there, and how much further you’ll go… that’s something real. It’s a comfort only you and Nezuko-san can give him.”

“Shinobu-san…”

“It brings me comfort too, to know he has you.”

“Everyone’s will in this Corp is bound together. We’re entrusted with the will of those who came before us, and for as long as there are demons, our will is still going to be entrusted to those who come after us. Your sister’s dream will still be accomplished someday, Shinobu-san. I’m sure of it.”

She paused, for she had not expected this topic to be turned around on her. “It already has, though, hasn’t it? Nezuko-san has made so many friends already.”

“Then it’s almost like Tomioka-san was the one to carry her will forward!”

Don’t involve Tomioka-san with my sister. That has nothing to do with him, she felt the thought wordlessly rise in her chest, but nothing reached her lips.

Whether or not Tanjirou picked up on any change in her scent was anyone’s guess. “I mean—uh—I don’t want to interfere or misinterpret anything! Nezuko and I have already caused you enough trouble already. I should get to my mission now! Bye, Shinobu-san!”

She waved after him, but that last mention of her husband turned her fretful attention back to the contents of the letter and whatever might have prompted Tanjirou to make an apology.

Dear Kochou,
I found the demon I had been trailing, with one family affected last night. The demon had attacked the father and taken first bites, but I arrived in time to prevent injury to the other members present. After slaying the demon, I applied first aid until the Kakushi arrived, and they assured me that he’ll make a full recovery. My mission ended with no other significant results or issues. I plan on returning for two nights this week.

She sighed to herself, relieved that it was just his usual content. When her eyes graced the last line, her expression softened to a smile under rosy cheeks.

I look forward to seeing you.
Sincerely,
Tomioka Giyuu

As Tanjirou headed off for his mission, he found himself again nursing his disappointment that he had not, in fact, gotten his first letter from Giyuu.

After all the letters Tanjirou had sent Giyuu it was easy to mistake this for a reply, and what’s more, the contents made it seem like Giyuu was looking forward to seeing him. Perhaps Tanjirou had thought too highly of what Giyuu thought of him, meaning Tanjirou had overthought being a bother in Giyuu’s marriage. That was a relief, but he still felt sad. Nezuko expressed her support by scratching the inside of her box.

When Tanjirou returned from his mission, he was elated to have used Hinokami Kagura with more ease than he ever had before, especially thanks to how he was able to raise his own body temperature. When he tried to report as concisely as possible, however, Giyuu seemed unimpressed.

With a sigh, Tanjirou chided himself for overconfidence. He assured himself the issues between Giyuu and Shinobu must had all been in his head, and then he went off to train.

THIS JOKE IS THE REASON THIS AU EXISTS.

It is exceedingly silly, I know. I wasn't even a GiyuShino shipper at the time, it was just a ship I was okay with. I just wanted to make a joke. So I did.

And I kept making that joke worse.

And I thought that was the end of it. One joke in the multitude of my joke fanart collection. But then one day, many months later, I started considering it more seriously. What if they really were married the whole time, but were so low-key about it that no one ever mentioned it? For them, it seemed believable. Giyuu doesn't talk about himself unless you pester it out of him for by stalking him for unrelenting days, and Shinobu will keep her personal life to herself even if it kills her. And, even if I did not read the ship as canon (and I still don't), it was undeniable that they had ship chemistry. Suddenly, all of canon seemed way funnier if there was a whole marriage unfolding behind the scenes. My imagination started running at full speed, and very soon I encountered how it also makes all of canon way more angst-ridden as well, and my brain increased speed by three times over.

So I wrote up my headcanons and purposefully left them open-ended, and thought that was the new end of it.

Until I kept getting more ideas every few months. Sometimes something small here or there, and sometimes a huge spurt of them all at once. So I kept making more pieces of joke art to develop the AU, and hot dang, people liked them, so I kept making more, and eventually I felt bad for late-comers to the AU because it was hard to follow a bunch of scattered doodles. Hence, I wrote a chronological fic, though that required adjusting some the content of my doodles to make them fit the flow of the fic better.

But anyway, the original "Tanjirou would be a nuisance in the Kochou-Tomioka marriage" joke kept getting worse and worse and worse.

And we aren't done yet. The next chapter will be filled with more fluffy, silly, domesticity.

Chapter Text

The worst of Aoi’s fears of this game had come.

Aoi was not in that room. She could not hear what Shinobu whispered in Giyuu’s ear, after having stretched all the way up on her tip-toes and tapping him on the shoulder to lower his ear to her. They moved so quietly that Aoi did not even know she was on the other side of a sliding door from them, but had Aoi heard that whisper, she’d have hurried to escape the inevitable fallout.

The whisper was, “We will not be naming our eldest son ‘Tanjirou.’”

“Tanjirou is a good name for an eldest son!”

This was what Aoi heard first, and it made her jump to hear Giyuu raise his voice inside the mansion, or at all. Her stomach dropped with suspense about what else might be coming.

“Maybe for a family of charcoal farmers,” came Shinobu’s voice.

Shinobu-sama, please…

“…but you’re the Water Hashira!”

Don’t!

“He should have a name like—”

Don’t say—

“—Anchovy!”

“Aaaahhh!” Aoi could not contain herself as she picked up her things and ran out the other side of the room and down a different corridor. Shinobu and Giyuu looked in the direction her scream came from, but they assumed she must had forgotten something and had run off to take care of it. Giyuu turned his attention back to Shinobu.

“I must have misheard you. Did I really hear you say ‘Anchovy’? Iwashi? You’re calling my son a sardine?”

“Yes! Doesn’t it have a nice ring to it?”

Rather than blank, angry, or confused, the look he gave her was undeniably incredulous. “By that logic, you’re the Insect Hashira. Just call him ‘Caterpillar.’”

“Oh!” she put her fingers over her lips as her eyes lit up. “Tomioka Kemushi! That sounds so cute.”

Aoi’s scream came back to his mind, and then Giyuu felt a chill as though insects, or larva that would turn into them, were crawling up his skin. He shuttered. “You were serious?”

“Of course. Very serious.”

“About real names?”

“Yes. Do you mean you were joking about ‘Tanjirou’ all along?”

“I was not. At least it’s a real name.”

“The names I like are all real things, too.”

“I can’t believe it’s come to this… again!” Aoi folded forward over the things she had carried away in such a hurry. Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho surrounded her, rubbing her back and asking her what was wrong so that they could try to make her feel better. When she had composed herself enough, Aoi gathered her determination. “It’s time you all know about some of the dark history of the Butterfly Mansion. I may have abandoned the sword and made all my training useless, but there is one person who I did have the skill to save. It was Kanao.”

The girls gulped and listened carefully.

“Suzume.”

“Huh? What about a sparrow?”

“Hakobe. Tanago.”

“Chickweed?”

“Bitterling?”

“Tobiko.”

“Flying fish roe?”

The trio of young nurses was growing more and more confused, and more and more concerned about how disturbed Aoi’s mental state might be to be spouting off such unrelated creatures. Aoi locked eyes with them as she went on. “These were all names that Shinobu-sama suggested for Kanao.”

“What!?”

“A bird or a plant isn’t so bad, but fish!?”

“Fish eggs!?”

“Kanae-sama and I tried to dissuade her, but she could not fathom why anyone wouldn’t find them good names. They were lined up along my suggestions and Kanae-sama’s suggestions, but in this, Kanao’s first, most important, but ultimately too heavy decision to make, we left too much to chance. The choice Kanao was originally going to make… was Kamasu.”

“Barracuda!?” the three girls screamed together in horror.

“I managed to sweep it away from her hand fast enough to prevent her from touching it. Even now, I don’t know how I beat her,” she went on, looking down to her hand and remembering the adrenaline. “Any slower, and it would have been too late for her. And do you know why I’m telling you this now?”

“W-Why?”

“It couldn’t be that—”

“Does she intend to name her future children after fish?”

They paused, waiting for Aoi to confirm, but she said nothing. Soon Kiyo laughed in the silence. “Of—of course not. It’s all part of their game.”

“Right! It has to be.”

“Haha!”

“Hahaha!

“Ha…”

They fell silent again. Aoi had still said nothing.

“She’s serious!?” the three of them said back to her.

“The good news is that there is no baby. The bad news is that should it ever come to be, Tomioka-sama cannot be depended on. Kiyo. Sumi. Naho. It would fall entirely to us to save that child.”

It did not take long for the other inhabitants of the Butterfly Mansion to be embroiled in the flames of a lovers’ spat that very quickly grew too big to be contained between the two of them. To prove their own good taste, they went to others to take their side.

Giyuu went first to Tanjirou, who he assumed would like his choice. “You agree that ‘Tanjirou’ is a much better name, right?”

“A-h-h-h, u-m-m-m,” Tanjirou struggled. He looked to Nezuko for some support, but Nezuko did not have much to say, so he had to navigate his way through this himself. “I do agree your future child shouldn’t have a fish name, but…” and then he could say no more, lest he say anything to insult his parents’ memory by saying his own name should not be used.

Shinobu’s first choice was to go to her Tsuguko, who had never taken a side against Shinobu, except in the case of choosing to the join the Demon Slayer Corp. “You agree with my name choices, don’t you, Kanao?”

“I have no opinion.”

Well. It wasn’t as if Kanao went against her master by saying that, but it wouldn’t do for going against Giyuu.

Zenitsu declared neutrality. As much as he did not want to take Giyuu’s side, he had to admit that Giyuu had good taste in some matters, so he wasn’t going to go against him either. Zenitsu considered himself quite a gentleman for this stance.

Shinobu had one more card to play—a boy who was not only enthusiastic for whatever side he took, but a boy who was easily influenced.

“You see, Inosuke-kun,” she said, “Tomioka-san and I are having an argument because he doesn’t like the same names that I like. It’s like he has no inspiration—no appreciation for how much impact a unique name can have.”

“Like what?”

“Namazu.”

“Catfish! Those! Those are strong enough to cause earthquakes!”

“Kasago.”

“Oh!! Scorpionfish! That’s really poisonous! Of course you should name your offspring that!”

“Right? But if it’s a son, I want his name to reflect that his father is the Water Hashira. That’s why I also thought of Amago.”

“A landlocked trout?”

“It sounds sort of like ‘amagoi,’ to pray for rain. It’s like the Fifth Form of Water Breathing, and how it releases demons from their torment. A strong and kind name.”

“Amagi,” Inosuke said to himself, too muffled and dreamy for Shinobu to hear it under his mask and correct him that he had said ‘raincoat.’

With Inosuke firmly on her side, Shinobu was eager to bring him into the argument to show Giyuu that her taste had enthusiastic support, for of course, Giyuu had found no one who would take his own side. Inosuke was more than excited and willing to enter this fight.

“Shinobu’s names are great!” he shouted, which summoned the attention of four vigilant girls.

“That’s Inosuke-san.”

“He’s going to make it worse!”

“Quick! Quick, we have to stop him!”

They went running, arriving not in time to stop him, but to hear him bellow, “Especially ‘Atsugi!’”

Everyone who heard him took pause.

That was not a fish any of them had ever heard of.

Giyuu was the first to comment. “’Atsu’ as in ‘kindness’…”

“…and ‘gi’ as in ‘loyalty’…” Shinobu finished.

They contemplated it a moment longer. Neither had anything negative to say about it, and by the looks on their faces, they had taken a liking to it. Shinobu’s smile was reserved, but Giyuu’s was oddly, also disturbingly, cheerful.

Aoi, despite knowing it was too late, muttered an outside opinion. “People would read those characters together as ‘Atsuyoshi’…”

“’Atsugi’ is ‘warm clothes,’” added Naho. She sounded defeated.

“If the baby’s lucky, people will think his name is Atsuyoshi anyway,” offered Sumi, trying to find some optimism.

“That one is a nice name,” added Kiyo. “A real one, anyway.”

“Well,” said Aoi, “it’s less damage than could have been done. The heir to the Tomioka family will have Inosuke-san to thank.”

They looked over to where he stood, standing proudly for the part he played in winning an argument.

“The hero,” the trio of girls said.

Chapter Text

Dear Kochou,
Last night again, I was too late. There were no survivors, and not enough traces of the demon to track it down before daylight. This is the fourth night I’ve been on its trail.
I can only assume I haven’t run fast enough. My senses have not been honed sharply enough. Perhaps if I had a stronger sense of smell, or skills to make up for it like Sabito—

He paused the brush. Giyuu looked over his words and how his hand had stopped, then he chided himself for his state of indecision about whether to continue writing or to trash this letter. The most pressing matter was that he got to a Wisteria Mansion to sleep, so he folded it up and put it away.

Before he arrived at his lodging, a heavy rain had fallen, soaking the ink through and taking away his agency over the letter. Like it washed away the words, it washed away the sting, leaving Giyuu numb.

It was because he could be numb that he could keep going. As long as he could not feel regret, then he would not falter. If he dwelled on the failure, it would put him right back to the state of the undeserving new Corp member, freshly woken after the Final Selection, who spilled his food across the floor in a fit.

Pathetic.

‘Here I am, being such a child, throwing a tantrum…’ he heard his wife’s voice float to mind. ‘How can you be so strong, Tomioka-san? How are you so unswayed?’

As he recalled, these were words she said after learning of Rengoku’s death.

‘I’m the one between us who doesn’t deserve to stand among the Hashira, being so crushed by this.’

She was wrong about that. She earned her place because she was strong enough to feel those emotions.

At this, Giyuu thought of the strain in her voice the night everything changed between them. His footsteps came to a halt as the whirlpool of guilt surged back up from his chest to his throat. That night, when all his silence about Nezuko came to light, Shinobu had insisted on a reason for why Giyuu broke such serious Corp rules. But, if he could go back to that moment, argue in some way in his own defense, what he might ask was how he could be expected to uphold Corp rules when he didn’t deserve to be there in the first place.

“KYAAA! NO! AAAH!”

“Kochou?”

“AAH! Ah… ah, Tomioka-san.”

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his hand still on the door to their bedroom. She was wrapped up in a mess of blankets misshapen under their covers for how much she had tossed and turned and fought them, and if her hair was any longer, she might have strangled herself in it. Whatever she had been dreaming about had been going on long before Giyuu got home.

“No, it was just a night terror. I was probably about to wake up anyway.”

“It’s after ten o’clock in the morning.”

“Pardon?”

“Can you call it a night terror?”

“What?”

Giyuu gave up his attempt to cheer her with humor and knelt at her bedside. “Would you like company? I’ll listen.”

“It was Kanae-neesan,” she said, her face resting back against the pillow as she closed her eyes. Her next Breath was slow, and her body relaxed. “It started so happy… like she was there…”

She drifted off. Giyuu could only lend his ears to the rhythmic whir of her Total Concentration Breath. With her face tilted toward the pillow, there was soon a trail of drool out the side of her mouth, making Giyuu grimace; that pillow would need to get washed. For that matter, with how much of a sweat she had worked up that humid morning, the whole futon should get cleaned. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, then, if Giyuu laid down next to her with his dirty uniform still on. Sharing a wet pillow wasn’t very appealing, but the lumpy, damp blankets beckoned him.

She would probably complain about that and tell him to at least change into his bed clothes, though. And if Giyuu was going to bother, he might as well as prepare his own futon so that she could rest soundly. All the company she needed was her sister in her dreams.

Giyuu’s dreams, if he had them, were blank and lonely. He did not envy Shinobu’s night terrors, but he would have relished the chance to see Tsutako’s face every now and again.

After dull sleep, Giyuu rose again. He chided Shinobu to hurry up and start her gradual crawl out of bed if she was going to make it to her mission in time, then got himself ready for a round of training before dinner. When they encountered each other at the table, Shinobu had her usual plastered smile and chipperness, as well as her haori. She gave the girls instructions for the hospital patients, and informed them, and Giyuu, that it would be at least two nights before she returned.

“And how about you, Tomioka-san?”

“I’ve taken more of Rengoku’s old territory. I may be away a while.”

Shinobu frowned. “That’s tricky with all those mountains out there. What a distance. Hopefully we’ll have another Hashira at some point soon.”

“Or two.”

“It always helps to have spares,” she smiled as typical.

Shinobu gave him a kiss before they parted ways on the path in the forest outside the Butterfly Mansion. They both knew it would be silly to ask when Giyuu would be back.

When Giyuu finally returned to the Butterfly Mansion, there was no voice to greet him when he slid open the door to the residence.

He passed by the family room and into the kitchen to see if any lunch was left for him. There was not, which wasn’t uncommon. He had not given notice of his return in advance.

The family altar was left closed and unattended. The futons in his bedroom remained in the closet. Giyuu sat for a short rest, expecting to hear Aoi or Naho soon pass through taking care of their usual chores at that hour, or Kiyo and Sumi chattering about errands and grocery lists. Expecting to hear familiar voices somewhere, it would not have even felt strange to hear Tsutako. Only silence answered him.

There was a stirring of curiosity about why it was so quiet. He stood, meaning to go to the other wings of the mansion starting with the dojo, but out in the hall, he heard Sumi’s voice and footsteps coming from the direction that led to the hospital.

Once he got closer, he heard more indistinct voices from the girls. One of them—at least two of them—were crying.

Giyuu’s feet sped up. Within moments he was on the second floor of the hospital, walking in on the sight of bags and bags of blood hung over the beds, and the thick scent of medicine and bodily fluids. Kanao was in there—she wasn’t usually—hanging up a bag of fluid with a tube, Kiyo was next to her at the patient’s side with a needle at his arm; Aoi and Shinobu were across from them with a collection of glass vials. The boy between them all was Inosuke, hardly recognizable both without his mask and so sapped of color.

“Tomioka-san—” Sumi said at the sight of him.

He whipped his head in her direction to see the boy on the other bed, barely visible under all the tubes and bandages.

“Tanjirou!”

“Not now,” hushed Shinobu, not taking her eyes from the syringe she pulled.

Giyuu made scant sense of where one injury must have started and another stopped, what with all the swollen areas peeking out between the splints. “What happened to him?”

“I’m so sorry,” Aoi started, “it’s all because they said they’d go for me—”

“What happened?”

“I never thought it’d be an Upper Moon—”

“What—”

“Tomioka-san.”

The sternness with which Shinobu spoke made him look in her direction, and she had her eyes locked and focused back.

“A Hashira cannot be swayed,” she warned.

Though he was indoors, Giyuu felt rained on all over again with numbness. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, and saw himself out.

He couldn’t remember walking back down the stairs, but on the first floor of the hospital, a familiar voice called out to him. It was Zenitsu, all by himself, left to wonder what the latest update was on Inosuke and Tanjirou’s conditions upstairs, for no one had the chance to tell him anything and he could only listen to how bad it sounded. Although Zenitsu, having been knocked unconscious by the demon, could not recall much of the battle, he knew enough of what had happened to tell Giyuu what they all had been up against. Accepting this information with cold rationality, Giyuu felt the most pressing news the Corp had to wait on was if Uzui was going to recover or not. They could not stand to be down three Hashira.

Two Hashira, someone else might correct him.

With Shinobu being kept so busy with the emergencies upstairs, that was still another territory that would be difficult to cover. When the situation quieted, Giyuu announced to Shinobu that he would patrol her territory that night in addition to his own, she thanked him, and then off he went.

It was another seven nights until Giyuu had a chance to come home. The state of the hospital was much quieter early that hazy morning, with both Tanjirou and Inosuke in comatose states. No one was there at that hour to fuss over them. Although there was no one to ask, Giyuu had to interpret this as a better sign than the state of the things last he’d seen them.

In the quiet of this situation that he could not understand, as he did not know how worried or relieved to be, he was sensitive to any movement or sound. That put him on guard for the light footsteps of Shinobu, who was walking up behind him. He identified the swish of her haori as her arm lifted toward the small of his back. Her poke would not catch him off guard this time, and he was already annoyed at her for choosing this time and place for it.

Rather than the jabbing finger he anticipated, it was her palm that gently settled against him. He flinched with surprise anyway.

“They’re more stable now. They’re strong boys,” she said.

“Was it the poison?”

“Among other things.” She slid her arms around him, and both of their haori made silken sounds as they brushed close together. “You must be tired.”

“I heard Uzui isn’t coming back.”

“He’s done more than any other Hashira ever has. He deserves his rest.”

“…”

“You deserve your rest too. Let me make you comfortable.”

Giyuu was too tired for anything but laying his head in her lap and letting her stroke his hair in the early morning dimness. At the very least, he could make a memory to take with him for the next long mission. He took her hand and gave a long kiss to it, then paused to Breathe in the scent of her skin. Iodine, bath soap, and a sweet fragrance.

That sweet scent was not uncommon in his line of work. There were occasionally other Insect Breath users, or swordsmen who used hidden weapons soaked in poison. He sometimes came across a person with rare blood who had been instructed to carry a protective pouch, and most of the mansions he stayed at burned incense in any hour of darkness.

The smell of it always increased his heart rate. Sometimes a strong enough whiff of it would make his temperature rise. It stirred the longing, and the determination to save some strength for her—a lot of strength for her—

But that would never do, for if his mission required it to eliminate a demon, he would expend every ounce of his blood and power.

Another family, too late.

A month passed with Tanjirou and Inosuke in slumber. Zenitsu was on the mend and making a racket as he recovered strength in his legs, but it wasn’t enough to make the other two patients stir.

Nezuko likewise had not awoken. Uzui had reported her episode and advanced demonic state to Kagaya, who disseminated the information as he saw fit. This included telling Shinobu, who had assumed official responsibility for Nezuko, and Giyuu, who had staked responsibility of his own on her. Giyuu sent a letter to Urokodaki to tell him about the state of the Kamado siblings, and Urokodaki replied that it did not seem unusual if Nezuko would sleep for as long as Tanjirou would.

One day, Shinobu left a note, some tools, and a ribbon for Giyuu. In the note, she apologized for not being able to see him this time, and she requested that Giyuu make a new bamboo muzzle for Nezuko to wear.

It was a quiet day to himself to go wander into the forest, look for the right size tree, cut it, shape it, sand it down, and fit it with the ribbon that Shinobu had provisioned. When his handiwork was ready, he went into Nezuko’s dark little room to fix it in place. Nezuko paid him no mind and went on sleeping.

By the sight of her, it looked like she might wake at any moment and look around and speak like any other young girl, but Giyuu was so primed to the presence of a demon that even now, even after how much he had deemed worth risking on her, his nerves stayed guarded for Nezuko to spring awake and bite him.

Shinobu had not said anything about the incident Uzui reported, but Giyuu had to wonder what Shinobu felt when she found out. Maybe she was seething at him all over again, since Giyuu did, after all, come close to having to kill himself for his poor judgement what with how uncontrollable Nezuko had been among the injured in the pleasure quarters.

Or maybe, because she hadn’t said anything, Shinobu didn’t care much at all.

She knew how likely Giyuu was to be killed any night he went out. As a spouse, he was expendable. Maybe Shinobu even said so to Aoi or Kanao or Kanroji, comparing him to a dishrag that she can toss out if it gets torn. He inwardly grumbled as he closed Nezuko’s jaw around the bamboo with a light crack from the tips of her teeth.

It was ridiculous of him to think petty thoughts like that, he knew that. Still, he did not wish to ask Shinobu any of her thoughts about the matter.

Shinobu was tired too, after all.

He came back one morning to find her already asleep, her Corp uniform folded on the floor and still stinking of blood and dirt, her haori and hairpiece the only things neatly put away, and only her hands and face washed before she had collapsed on top of the blanket in loose bed clothes. Her hair was going to get her pillow all dirty, and that annoyed him, and he wanted to put his own dirty hand in her tresses to make his point. As he caught a whiff of her, he had all sorts of ideas of how to teach her not to be so unguarded.

With another Breath, there was a sensation of cooling rainfall, and he quietly knelt at her side to tuck her into bed, grime and all. She was likely to have a hard time waking up later, so he fetched a tray and a glass and a pitcher of water to stay ready for when she’d need it.

After all, he had promised to support her. No one could afford how much low blood pressure made a Hashira like her sway.

She never wavered.

When she wasn’t caring for the girls of the Butterfly Mansion, developing medicines and poisons, or healing the injured, she was killing as many demons as her quick legs could take her to. She was the sort of Hashira who has claimed that title by racking up numbers, for she had gone after them with vengeance ever since first unleashing her poisons on them in the Final Selection.

Whatever strength she could save, she should, he thought.

Giyuu had not seen Kagaya in many weeks, so he requested via Kanzaburou that he be sent on the missions that were far away. He reasoned that there were Hashira whom it would be problematic to have away for long. In Kagaya’s reply, he granted this request, but extended his wishes for Giyuu to rest well between those missions.

On one of Giyuu’s trips home, Shinobu was away. As Giyuu arrived, Naho came crying to him for help in the hospital, for there was no one else to turn to. Inosuke had woken up, and they needed someone to tie him to the bed until Shinobu could return to assess him.

Still nothing could wake Tanjirou.

There were many rainy days on that next mission, which numbed Giyuu’s worry that the Water Hashira position would remain vacant. When an Insect Hashira did the work of so many, what did the Water position matter, if not for the pride of seeing Urokodaki’s legacy carried on? All the Hashira did the work of so many. If Giyuu could ease the Hashira’s work by slaying demons they had not yet reached, then that was his purpose.

Shinobu would not sway, even if he were gone.

The nights were clear, and the moon was bright, but the stagnant air carried no fragrance. If the demon he trailed was nearby, then he had made himself too numb to it, he scolded himself. The numbness was only to keep his body moving, however undeserved it was that his body was the one that remained moving after all these years.

When Giyuu returned to the hospital, he found an empty bed.

Numbness was all he could muster. He was iced over from head to toe, staring blankly at the sheets. An empty bed had meaning; the only way to keep from feeling that meaning was to feel nothing.

“Tomioka-sa-a-a-n.”

A petite finger jabbed next to his spine like a needle. There was as buzz that should have made him jolt, but Giyuu did not move.

Shinobu bent around the front of him, her head far before his elbow as she peered up into his face. “Ara,” she said. “So stiff.”

“Tanjirou is gone.”

“Yes. Woke up, recovered, and already out and about. He’s gotten permission to go to the Swordsmith Village a while.”

“…”

“Poke, poke.”

“…Tanjirou’s alive?”

“I told you he woke up. Did you not get my letter?”

Sensation rushed back to Giyuu. All at once he felt how tired he was, and he hurriedly took a seat on the bed before his legs gave out. “He’s alive.”

“I’m sorry. You must have thought the worst without knowing, didn’t you? That just goes to show how important it is to communicate, doesn’t it? I did send a letter, though. Did Kanzaburou lose sight of you?”

“And Nezuko?”

“Happily gone off with him. Zenitsu-kun and Inosuke-kun have headed off on missions again. I just saw Kanao off for one, too.”

“I see.”

“How was your mission? Successful if you finally came back, I suppose.”

The numbness clawed its way back at his fingertips, then up his throat. “I lost its trail.”

“Ara.”

“I came back because Oyakata-sama ordered it. There were other Corp members sent to cover more ground.”

“I see.”

She did not say anything for a moment, so Giyuu could bask in the silence of not being given any poisoned words of cheerfulness, nor being given any harsh words for how his failure was going to cost more lives, perhaps as soon as the already-low sun went all the way down.

“Let’s go get you taken care of. I’ll run a bath for you and then start cooking dinner.” So saying, she left the room. Giyuu had no appetite, and knowing Shinobu would go through the trouble to do it herself wasn’t going to help. As if she heard that—though he was certain no words left his mouth—she poked her smile back around the open doorway to add, “We should have all the ingredients on hand for that.”

Maybe he could manage some appetite, if she was that happy to make his favorite.

While Shinobu took her own turn in the bath after his, Giyuu enjoyed his simmered salmon and daikon with the girls, who were thrilled to tell him about Tanjirou’s and Inosuke’s recoveries. They were so vivid in their recollection that Giyuu could hear the boys’ voices in his head, though he suspected some of the details were due to Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho’s childlike imaginations, saying things such as that Inosuke had been on the ceiling for so many hours. One hour, maybe. And knowing what Giyuu did about the swordsmith named Haganezuka Hotaru, the threatening letters Tanjirou received did not seem like an exaggeration either.

After dinner, Giyuu reported to the bedroom. He figured Shinobu would have spousal expectations of him, so he wanted some time alone to relax and be ready. “Tomioka-sa-a-a-n,” she announced herself, sliding the door open and letting light flood the room around her silhouette. When she closed the door behind her, her eyes narrowed with impish glints and shadows as her smile widened. “Are you ready?”

He was and had been lounging on the futon they’d share that night. “Where do you want me?” he asked, plainly.

“Lay down on your stomach right there. With your bed clothes loose.”

On his stomach? That was new. He had some doubts about where this was going, but he did as instructed. A moment later, he felt the brush of her thighs as she straddled over his hips. She settled her palms, still warm from the bath, against his shoulder blades, and then rained her fingers down in a way that set his nerves off, hot like static.

She then pressed against the side of his lower spine—not a poke, but a slow, deep pressure, slow, and deeper, deeper, deeper—

“Ow!” he finally said and whipped up to his elbows to crank his neck back at her. “What was that?”

“Stop it, you’re going to make it worse that way. Your back is all seized up with knots.”

“They’re always there, don’t bother—”

“Don’t bother? That’s irresponsible to leave you in such bad condition. Now stay put. I’ve got a couple different scented oils we could use that might help. The aromas could help you relax, too! Would you like—”

“I don’t want any fragrance.”

“Really? Well, fine, suit yourself. But my hands need some kind of oil if I’m going to work any of this out.”

“I don’t need—ow! Ah!”

“You needed that, didn’t you?”

“That helped, yes.”

“Then stay put so we can work through this.”

Giyuu was not a cooperative massage recipient, for he squirmed and tensed and buried his face in the pillow instead of Breathing through it like Shinobu scolded him to. Very soon, she was prattling on about Tanjirou’s condition, her own missions, and a new recipe from Kanroji. She shot little questions to Giyuu about who his swordsmith was and if he liked deep-fried Western style foods, and he rewarded her with simple grunts in reply.

“Is that so,” she remarked in a flat tone, finally expressing her disappointment with his conversation skills as she started helping him to stretch his neck.

He couldn’t be sure if his voice made a noise, or if that was the sound of blood vessels ripping apart. “If you kill me, I won’t be able to converse at all,” he said, in the freedom he found while she made him change position.

“This isn’t killing you. With how tight your muscles were, they were probably convincing themselves they were dead in the first place. Telling them to come back to life and feel things is bound to hurt.”

She grunted and proved her point as she pulled his upper chest backwards, putting so much of her own weight into it that he had nearly flattened her over the tatami—or rather, over the backs of his own legs.

“I’m surprised you’d—u-r-r-h-h-h—know.”

She turned half of him to the side, cracking his spine and some odd other joints as she put her weight on top of him to push him down to the futon. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ve got—oof—the anger to thrive on.”

“Hmm,” she pondered. A moment later she crackled and smashed him in the opposite direction. “Anger is more likely to break the body down over time with adverse effects on the cardiovascular system. It can be used for short term benefit, of course.”

“Then should I be worried for your heart—OW!”

“I suspect a lot of our Breath technique works in the same way,” she went on. “For as much short-term benefit as we derive from it, even an excess of oxygen can be corrosive. We’re all borrowing against the health of a future we likely don’t have anyway in an effort to push our bodies to the extent we require them now.”

“…”

“I’ve been trying to study how demon cells don’t suffer the same effects. If there were a way to trigger them into aging the way human cells do, there might be a way to mitigate their self-regeneration. I feel like I’m on the edge of a breakthrough, but I can’t manage it.” She sighed and gave his neck a twist.

“That would require you to spend more time in your lab—URK,” he finished as she twisted his neck the other way.

Shinobu kept his face straight forward and gave him a brief smile. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She then kept him locked still as she leaned forward for a kiss. Giyuu returned the gesture by parting his lips and letting his jaw slacken, but she pulled away.

He found the kiss had not been tantalizing, but Shinobu looked distinctly displeased. “What’s the matter?” he asked her.

“You taste like salmon.”

“Sorry,” he replied. He only realized then that he hadn’t tasted anything. He had been so busy keeping himself moving through missions that he had forgotten to stop feeling numb.

“It’ll fade,” she said, then went in for a second go. She kept her hands on his cheeks with her fingertips nestled in his hair, and as Giyuu reminded himself how to play his part, he moved one hand up to touch her arm. He stroked his thumb there against her sleeve, which somehow felt more there and real than the efforts Shinobu poured into the kiss. As Giyuu saw it, she could do whatever she wanted. He wanted her to let off stress. Let off some of that anger if she really wanted to; work out with passion some of the hurt he’d caused her—

He pulled away, startled at himself for doing so. The bottom of his lungs thrummed with that cold sense of guilt again, which fluttered up to his heart when she looked back with surprise and disappointment. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“…It’s nothing.”

“You aren’t saying enough for me to understand,” she said, then guided him to lie back down on his stomach.

She rubbed his neck and his back more tenderly, her palms flowing with his contours to help him relax. This part of his treatment did feel good; she took her time, and it was like she summoned his blood to flow back in the channels it had forgotten it was supposed to fill.

His doctor of a wife must have been right about the state he was in. That numbness he had been relying on to keep moving must have been trying to convince his body that it was already dead. That was no way of being fluid like Urokodaki had always harped on him. What a lie and a disservice, but feeling numb was the only way someone like him could scrape by out there. Someone who didn’t even deserve to stand among this Corp.

“Giyuu-san,” she whispered.

The hot static ran from his ears down to his pelvis.

“Giyuu-san,” she said again, this time with air directly circulating into his ear. “The moon is beautiful tonight… but it might rain.”

“Enough about rain,” he said. He turned on his side and slipped his arm around her to pull her down beside him. After pecking a kiss on her lips to keep her quiet, he nuzzled his way along her cheek and down her neck. When his nose got past her collarbone and down to the valley of her chest, he curled his body closer. He took a deep Breath, and relaxed.

Shinobu traced her fingers up and down Giyuu’s arm, stoking his muscles before setting her hand up by his neck. She whispered, “I never get to hear your voice. Tell me, what’s on your mind? I’ll listen.”

“I wish…”

“Yes?”

“I wish I had the same abilities as Sensei and Tanjirou. I’ll never be the Water Hashira they can.”

“Is that what this is all about?”

“If I had their sense of smell, then I wouldn’t feel so numb.”

“Hmm.”

Giyuu took another Breath. “I wouldn’t have to search so hard for your scent.”

He got just enough of a whiff of it to cast out the lingering numbness. In its place, it was like his Breath powered his sense of self return to return—his own desires to be in his own living flesh. To be in her flesh—to possess her for his own and enact his desires on her, instead of feeling like he was nothing but an expendable embodiment for her whims, like this whole marriage ever was.

He squeezed. “Shinobu—”

“I thought you’d never say that,” she squeezed him back. “I always, always want so bad to hear your voice!”

It felt good to be needed, to be wanted, to be irreplaceable. With all these long missions away, he could convince himself over and over again that he did not deserve any of it, but in Shinobu’s arms, that all gave way to selfish desires. His body’s desire to be alive and have its needs met; to be the only one whose name she cried out. It was in those moments that he could believe neither of them were Hashira at all.

If only.

Once they settled down to rest, Giyuu took another chance to place his forehead against her chest, to feel it sticky and thumping in time with her heart, and rising and falling. He filled his lungs with the sweet air that came off of her. “I found your scent,” he said.

“I’ve been right here. You did make me sweat enough to need—”

“You smell like wisteria.”

Shinobu wriggled away and sat up. Giyuu stretched his neck to see her face, and even in the low light, it was easy to tell that she had turned several shades of pink. Her eyes looked shocked and timid; her smile had gone slack.

It was cute to have embarrassed her, so he took that chance to reach up and surprise her with one more kiss. She pulled back with a smile, and then wrapped her arms around him to pull him side by side to their pillows. “It’s no wonder I smell like my work,” she giggled into his ears with her usual poison cheerfulness.

Giyuu fell asleep to the feel of her fingertips stroking his hair, a sensation he’d never get to enjoy if he were dead or numb.

Chapter Text

“CAAAAW. A LETTER FROM OYAKATA-SAMA.”

Shinobu sat up in bed as fast as though a demon were attacking. En stayed at the windowsill with the folded paper tied around her ankle, and Shinobu's face was hit with a blast of sunshine as she reached the window and removed and unfolded the letter. It had been so long since she heard her master’s voice. Her first thought as she opened the letter was that, again, it was not his handwriting.

Shinobu, it began. In her heart, she read with the imagined sound of his voice.

They had only been in written correspondence lately. With fewer Hashira, there was more work to go around, and it seemed Kagaya was sensitive to that and avoided calling anyone to see them in person. Shinobu’s missions, hospital, and lab work made it hard to go anywhere, but she was always willing to. Even if it was just for a friendly visit. That was why, in a previous letter, she jokingly offered that if Kagaya refused keeping the battle capabilities of a Hashira to himself instead of on the battlefield, then perhaps someone of her caliber would be acceptable as a bodyguard. She could relocate her lab work, and there would be no fewer demon heads chopped off.

Because it was Kagaya, he had to have understood she was only partially joking. Shinobu was intimate with Giyuu, as much as could be expected, but if someone understood her better, it was Kagaya. Giyuu remembered Kanae, but Kagaya remembered Kanae as dearly as Shinobu did. Before getting distracted by thoughts of her sister, she started over on reading the letter.

'Shinobu,

'Thank you for your offer to relocate your lab so you can keep a better eye on me. However, no head of the Demon Slayer Corp has ever had any personal guard, and I have no intention of being the first. For as much as I would not wish to keep your poisons from the battlefield, I also would wish to keep your medical expertise to myself. You’ll very soon have your hands full with Tanjirou and Genya, after all.'

She paused to wonder what in the world happened now. If Tanjirou got himself re-injured due to bothering Genya, she was going to be very cross. It was a good distraction from the sting in her heart left by Kagaya’s unsurprising rejection.

The last she’d seen of her master was when he came to visit while Tanjirou and Inosuke were still freshly comatose, and that was already two months ago. Kagaya looked awful and walked so slowly, and it broke Shinobu’s heart to have no medicine to offer him. The look in Amane’s eyes was stoic, but Shinobu could only imagine what she was going though. How much did the children know? Did they know it was futile? Or had they been given any false hope out of kindness?

She read on.

'I also would never wish to keep you away from Giyuu. It weighs on my heart enough that your missions keep you two apart, and that the two of you always risk your lives away from one another. Even with the updated reports you have provided, I’m still afraid your plans for Upper Moon Two will fail and it will be in vain. You must ensure that such a sacrifice would not be without meaning, and this means planning for what happens afterward. This is not a battle you will win by yourself, and you must win.'

Shinobu bit her lip. It stung worse to read another admonition that her efforts were worthless. She knew the poison wasn’t ready, but who would she even turn to for help? Kanao? Maybe with the Tsuguko she had in the past she could ask this of them, but it would never be fair to ask of a sister. The only one understanding enough to know about any of this was Kagaya and whoever was inscribing his letters for him. She especially couldn’t tell—

'With whatever moments you still have with Giyuu, please spend them gently.'

She wished she could spend some gentle moments with her master too, however few he had left. She drafted a light and elegant apology for overstepping Kagaya's wishes with her joke, then complained that she was always gentle with Giyuu because he couldn't stand anything more than that, if ever Giyuu let her try to help him at all, whether that was with the knots in his back or the knots in his mind.

Then all that was left was to wait for Tanjirou and Genya to return home in whatever sorry state they were in. Maybe if they were comatose Kagaya would visit the Butterfly Mansion again, she jokingly hoped.

Upper Moons! Two of them!

Tanjirou never stopped coming home to the Butterfly Mansion without more surprises. Having slain one of those demons that plagued the world for well over a century meant very little to the chipper, freshly injured Corp member, for he had a bigger story to tell. “And then just when I thought there’d be nothing left of her—”

“Hm-hm!”

“—I get a tap on the shoulder, and I look up—”

“Hm, hm, hm,” Shinobu nodded along.

“—and there’s Nezuko! Walking in the sunlight, all in one piece, not burned at all anymore! She looked almost as stunned as I was.” Tanjirou melted happily against the bed frame after reaching this part of the story he so excitedly recalled. “Ah-h-h, I was so relieved. I’m still so relieved.”

“Fascinating,” Shinobu replied. Going by what Tanjirou had said, the sun had caused damage, but since Nezuko was so quickly unscathed, that meant she could regenerate from those burns as quickly as from any other injury. A Nichirin blade, then, could cut her flesh, but even if it cut in the crucial part of her neck, Nezuko would not take any damage from the sunlight contained within the blade. That rendered their swords useless. Shinobu had to go start taking notes before she lost her train of thought, and as she exited, she left Tanjirou with the words, “Then I guess I’m the only one who can kill your sister now.”

If there was any chance of Kibutsuji Muzan gaining the ability to master the sun—and now there was that distinct possibility—then her work with poison was going to be more crucial than ever. The problem was delivering a big enough dose to inhibit regeneration which was likely many times faster than that of any demon she had encountered so far. Another problem was delaying breakdown of the poison, for even if it could inhibit regeneration, it would be useless if broken down before it took effect. That came back to an issue of delivery, if she wanted some way to fool a demon into not knowing the poison was there. For all the ideas she had so far, these were still insurmountable.

Oh, how could she have been so careless as to leave Tanjirou with those words?

Shinobu did not mean Nezuko any harm. She could go back and apologize now that she had followed her train of thought to more of a conclusion, but Tanjirou must have been able to tell what she meant, especially since she would not have smelled of any malice.

Or so she thought, and until she noticed how her heart felt clenched and had started beating faster, and how her jaw had closed so tight that even the skin of her scalp was taunt.

She was angry. Tanjirou got to keep his sister, and she didn’t.

Shinobu stayed still a moment listening to her own altered pulse, alarmed at herself for being so out of control of her psychosomatic symptoms, her temperature rising with how angry she was at herself for it rising in the first place. There was no way she could afford to meet Upper Moon Two yet, for she couldn’t face Kanae yet with how poorly she managed herself. She especially could not meet that demon until she figured out how to overcome those fatal weaknesses in her poisons, for as they were—as she was—they would have no effect.

No matter, she thought. If she encountered that demon, then she’d just avoid getting eaten yet. She’d escape until she had perfected it—

--but if escape was possible, she’d never have resorted to this kind of desperate plan in the first place.

Four years already, and Shinobu could not think of any other way it would be possible for someone of her size, who could not cut the head off even the lowliest of demons. Even Kanao had already eclipsed Shinobu’s record of how many demons she had killed by that amount of time in the Corp, for Kanao’s limbs propelled her instead of holding her back.

Kanao…

As much as Shinobu hated the thought, she had to face that her strength and body weight would not be enough without someone who could power through the demon’s neck with the lethal sunshine of a Nichirin blade.

She paused to look outside at the blazing sunshine. They still had the advantage of Nichirin blades, but maybe only for now.

From the other side of the hallway, Giyuu gazed at Shinobu and how the sunlight passed through the ends of her loose hair. It lined her nose and forehead with a warm glow but highlighted the white of her lips.

“Kochou.”

“Tomioka-san,” she smiled right away in his direction, in a more subdued way than usual.

“…”

“Do you have something to say?” she sounded a little peeved. “I’ve told you time and time again, you can’t get your point across unless you use more words.”

“Are you resting?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why would I?”

“…”

He wanted to retort that she couldn’t be so coy after all her lecturing him to take care of himself. She would probably get defensive if he pointed out that she looked unwell. That did not leave him with many words he could give voice to.

“I have to go work in my lab,” she said. “Oyakata-sama is sure to have many questions now that Nezuko-san has mastered the sun. I don’t have answers yet. To anything.”

“About Nezuko?”

“About how we fight a demon of her capabilities.”

Giyuu’s eyes went taunt as realized exactly what she meant. “Is there any way to reverse it?”

“We better hope not, with how much fun Nezuko-san is having out there. What’s important is moving forward. Speaking of, why don’t you go ahead of me to the meeting? I’m sure you’d like a chance to say hello.”

“To whom?”

“To whoever you want.”

“Just ‘hello’?”

“You make it sound like a punishment, Tomioka-san. Not just hello. You need to use more words.”

“What is this about?”

“Being friendly to your colleagues.”

“…”

“It's not your intention to be unapproachable to your colleagues, I’m sure.”

“I’m not unapproachable. Kanroji always says hello.”

“…”

“…”

“I need to get to my lab now,” she replied with a smile too exasperated to bother sighing. “I’ll go after I have Kanao back to watch over things here.”

As Giyuu dashed his way to the Ubuyashiki estate, he felt chuffed and wanted to add that Rengoku always said hello to him, too. What with being married to Shinobu, that made at least three Hashira who liked him. She couldn’t say he was disliked. Three was a good amount of Hashira who liked him. Two, now.

When Giyuu got to the estate, he noticed that only Himejima was there already, and as he appeared to be praying, Giyuu chose to remain outside the room. After some time, Shinobu arrived, and Giyuu nodded in acknowledgement. Shinobu smiled and bowed her head before going inside. After a while, Tokitou arrived. He looked up and saw Giyuu standing there, so they met eyes.

“…”

“…”

“Are you going to move?” Tokitou finally asked. “You’re in front of the door.”

Giyuu stepped to the left and let Tokitou pass by. The door slid shut behind him. The voices were muffled, but because Giyuu was standing right by the door, he could hear Shinobu and Himejima inquire about Tokitou’s recovery from his encounter with Upper Moon Five.

It was still several minutes before Giyuu heard the voice he was listening for.

“Wowee, I hope I’m not late!”

Very soon, there was a pink and green sight as Kanroji came into view. She spotted Giyuu directly in front of her, and as though she did not notice him at first, she gasped. “Ah—Tomioka-san. Tomioka-san, hello-o-o-o-o!” she said, approaching with so much energy that everyone inside the room must have heard her.

Giyuu thought he smiled (he didn’t), for he was satisfied to have Shinobu hear his proof that Kanroji always said hello to him. He raised his hand in greeting, and then opened the door to go inside, leaving it open for her as well. They took their seats next to Tokitou.

“Hello, Muichirou-kun! I’m glad to see you looking better!”

“Hello.”

“Hello, Shinobu-chan!”

“Hello, Kanroji-san.”

“Hello, Himejima-san!”

“Hello.”

“He—” she looked to her other side, but stopped, for saying hello to Giyuu twice would be awkward. She instead said nothing more, and the whole room fell to silence.

A few minutes later, Shinazugawa opened the door and entered, with Iguro right behind him, and after a little small talk and serious inquires, Amane and her children entered and the meeting began with the gut-wrenching news they all hoped never to expect.

Kagaya was no longer well enough to make an appearance.

Giyuu felt a sense of helplessness seep in all around that made it hard to concentrate on the details Amane shared about the mark. He had acted in the Water Hashira position all this time out of respect for Kagaya’s wishes, but if he were gone…

As though a timely measure to keep him composed, a cold sleet of rain fell outside. Like the sense of numbness that kept Giyuu from giving in to his powerlessness, the sound of it drowned out the horrific history of the appearance of the mark. It made what that meant for Kanroji, and for Tokitou, and for Tanjirou, feel far away. So few members of this Corp ever made it to that age anyway.

When it at last let up and the sun came back out, Amane left them to discuss the matters she had addressed. If Nezuko was in danger, then Giyuu knew he had responsibility to take for any demons that may come looking for her. “Amane-sama has left, so I’ll take my leave here,” he announced.

“Hold up,” growled Shinazugawa. “You’re not taking any leave. We all need to sit here and figure out what we’re all doing next.”

“It’s best that the six of you discuss that. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

Iguro eyed him. “What you mean, ‘nothing to do you with you’? You don’t have much awareness of what it means to be a Hashira. Or is there something else the matter? Are you intent on going off on your own to get a head start on training? Even if it means skipping out on the meeting?”

Giyuu found that Iguro asked too many questions at once, and that he likely did not want answers anyway. It was best that he did not waste time, so he exited the room, though others spoke after him.

“Um…”

“Hey! You stop right there!”

“Tomioka-san.” That was Shinobu’s voice, cool-headed and even-keeled, as she was always the one to be rational and understanding. “Please explain yourself. As usual, you aren’t saying enough.”

But there she went, bringing up the same thing from that morning. Couldn’t she have given it a rest? Since his wife insisted that it come out of his mouth, Giyuu said exactly what Shinobu already knew so that everyone could be informed fairly. “I’m not like you all.”

“I’m not buying that,” said Shinazugawa. “You’ve said something like that before too, haven’t you, Tomioka? Are you looking down on the rest of us?”

“P-please don’t fight! Let’s be calm—”

“I said stop!”

“Kyaa! Stop, stop, stop—noooo!”

Everything came to a startling halt when Himejima clapped his thunderous hands. “Sit,” he commanded. “We’ll continue the discussion. I have a suggestion.”

Shinazugawa cast Giyuu a glare, then settled back down on the tatami. Kanroji cast Giyuu a struggling glance, and then scooted back to her place. Giyuu was still standing, and although he looked over his shoulder at the disappointed faces in his direction, he remained standing in indecision.

“Sit, Tomioka,” Himejima repeated himself.

“Nezuko could be attacked any moment while we’re all here. You all should focus on the discussion.”

“’Tch. If that was what you meant, then you should have said so,” scoffed Shinazugawa.

“You should at least hear what the suggestion is,” said Iguro.

“Right!” added Kanroji. “That—that’s fine that you’re worried, we all are! But that’s why we’re here, and since it’s daytime and all, she’ll be fine a little longer. And Tanjirou-kun is with her too—”

“And he’s still a wreck in bed,” Tokitou cut in.

“Speaking of bodyguarding,” said Shinazugawa, “Oyakata-sama really should have at least two Hashira guarding him at all times. If anyone can convince him, it’s you, right, Himejima-san?”

“I’m afraid not. I became a Hashira at the age of 19, and I have spent these past eight years continually trying to convince him he should, but he won’t hear a word of it. He keeps saying how he could never keep the battle capabilities of the Hashira to himself. It truly troubles me…”

Giyuu thought this might make it prudent of him to volunteer, if not for what Shinobu frowned and said next. “It seems that no master in any generation of the Ubuyashiki clan has ever accepted a bodyguard.”

“We will have to entrust Oyakata-sama to Amane-sama, lest we make him waste any of his strength in arguing with us. We must use our time wisely as well. I propose we take advantage of the demons being inactive by training ourselves to achieve the marked state. Getting as many of us as possible to achieve that state should be the goal.”

“Even if that goal requires pushing us to the possibility of death?” asked Tokitou.

Himejima rubbed his prayer beads together. “That is what we Hashira always face. It makes no difference. What we need is to prime ourselves to use whatever strength we have before that happens.”

“Fine by me,” said Shinazugawa. “But how?”

“By pushing ourselves in training one another. We can learn each other’s specialties and methods.”

“Or in taking one another on in combat.”

Giyuu was more and more sure he was not needed in this conversation. “You can continue discussing it. I’ll take my leave now.”

“Tomioka, we aren’t finished.”

“I’ve heard what you’re doing now,” he finished, and saw himself out.

When the door closed, the room was silent for a moment, and then Himejima gushed with tears. “I wasn’t finished,” he reiterated.

“Jerk.” Shinazugawa’s face was pinched with disgust, and then he looked over to Shinobu. “He’s been like that for years. Saying ‘I’m not like you’ to us right in the face, even back when Kanae was around.”

The thought of arguing with either Shinazugawa or her husband exhausted her, so Shinobu merely gave him polite acknowledgment.

“To continue what I was saying, there’s another crucial element of the training I wish to suggest. We should not keep our methods to ourselves, but should train the entire Demon Slayer Corp. Every member.”

“Eh!?  All of them?”

“If it is split into groups which each of us focused on a core aspect of training that they lack, then the task can be split between us all. The efforts we expend with them are likely to push us more than anything on our own.”

Tokitou wrinkled his nose and folded his arms. “Is it worth it? It’s not like any of them are likely to unleash the mark. There’s a difference in raw ability that no amount of training can overcome.”

“They are all as willing as we are to make the same sacrifice. That is why we must prime them to the full extent of their strength as well.”

They all fell quiet again, thinking of many dead Corp members they once had known.

“It would be a good chance to learn their names, at least,” admitted Tokitou.

Shinobu smiled at him. “You don’t sound convinced. We needn’t forget, it wasn’t a Hashira who achieved the marked state first. It was Tanjirou-kun.”

“That’s a good point,” Tokitou replied. “Himejima-san, is your real aim to spread Tanjirou around so everyone can catch it from him?”

“You make it sound like a disease.”

“It might as well be. I’ll state it again—being on death’s door and passing through it unharmed is a prerequisite.”

“And we’ve already addressed that none of us take issue with that,” said Iguro. “The issue now is how best to train one another, and who will focus on what. How many will each of us be tasked with at a time. How we’ll manage this without letting demons catch us off guard. Someone should be making a record of all this as we discuss it.”

“I’ll take responsibility for that,” volunteered Shinobu.

“Thank you,” said Himejima. “Will you also inform Tomioka of the details later?”

Kanroji raised her hand. “That’s alright, I can do that!”

“You, Kanroji?”

“Yes! After all, Shinobu-chan must be busy. Tanjirou-kun and Genya-kun are still in bed, after all.”

“…”

“I’m sure she wants to go home after this, right? I’ve got lots and lots of time on my hands while I’m still recovering! I’ll just have the crows tell me where Tomioka-san lives, and it’ll just take a jiffy to go out of my way to…”

She trailed off as she felt Shinobu, Shinazugawa, Tokitou, and Himejima staring at her, even if Himejima had no eyes to do so. One of them was smiling, the others looked incredulous, surprised, or puzzled. Iguro looked at the floor, his face turning a purple shade of maroon in stark contrast to the white of his bandages.

“Should I… not?” the Love Hashira asked.

“Kanroji,” Iguro began. He took a brief look at Shinobu, whose smile welcomed him to go on. “Kochou is married to Tomioka.”

“…WHAAAA—”

“Ssh!” Tokitou swiped his hand over her mouth. “Don’t bother Oyakata-sama.” As Kanroji turned red and sweaty for the third or fourth time during that day’s Hashira Meeting, she put her own hands over her mouth and Tokitou slipped his away. “You didn’t know?” he asked.

“I’m surprised you did,” Shinazugawa said to Tokitou.

“That makes me kind of surprised you did either,” he said back.

“It doesn’t come up much,” smiled Shinobu.

Kanroji finally removed her hands from her mouth and whispered back, “I had no idea! I didn’t even know you were married! That either of you were married! And I certainly didn’t know that you were married to each other! I heard from Rengoku-san a long time ago that there were married Hashira, but I thought they must have died.”

“We are still alive,” she went on smiling.

“But everyone calls you ‘Kochou.’”

“Yeah, that is confusing,” added Tokitou.

“It’s ‘Tomioka’ on Corp documents.” Still smiling.

“They’re right. You could have stood to be clearer,” Iguro scolded her.

“As I recall, that may have caused trouble for Uzui as well,” Himejima said. Shinobu’s smile disappeared as her face went stone cold. He paid that no mind and went on. “It would have been reassuring to have Uzui here. With fewer and fewer of us, the burdens do take their toll.”

To which Shinazugawa added with a look at Shinobu, “And that means you’ll get Tomioka to help with this, right?”

“We’ll see about that. He can be a mystery to me at times too.”

“What’s even with that guy? I don’t know how you can stand that attitude of his. Is he like that all the time?”

“I’ve gotten to see other sides,” she said. Although she had her smile back in place, it was exhausting to argue anything with Shinazugawa. Even if she tried to defend her husband, she wasn’t going to tell everyone in that room about the innocent smiles she kept as her own secret, and Shinazugawa wouldn’t change his opinion anyway. It was all very tiring, when all she really wanted was to hurry up and go home.

Shinazugawa seemed to read that in her expression, so he stopped pursuing the issue. “Let’s just get on with it. I wouldn’t have anything to teach anybody except scraping by in combat and fighting as dirty as gets the job done.”

“Oh!” Kanroji sounded as perky as usual. “And we’d get to learn that from you too?”

“Well…”

“I’m sure that will get everyone fired up! It’s a great idea, Shinazugawa-san! As for me…”

Once the ideas started flowing, they bounced off each other and refined the goals and focuses as they went, and the others were helpful in retrieving lights and writing instruments. Soon it was dark enough that Shinobu needed the lights to keep taking notes, but the cozy ambiance they gave off made her sleepy. She had been up all night and day before the meeting keeping guard of Nezuko, and it was a relief to leave that to Giyuu.

“What about you, Kochou?”

“Me? I won’t be participating.”

“Ehhh? Why not?”

“A primary purpose of this training is to try to help the Hashira achieve the marked state. It needn’t be said why I’m not like the rest of you,” she smiled poisonously. “There’s also the matter of being prepared should the worst happen. If Nezuko-san has mastered the sun, then the day Kibutsuji Muzan does as well may not be far off. The work I’m doing in my lab is more important than any training I might be able to provide.”

“Right,” said Himejima, with a fresh stream of tears. “Namu Amida Butsu.”

“Suit yourself. We’re not going to let that bastard get to that point, though. The minute he comes crawling out of whatever hole he’s hiding in, we won’t let him live long enough to even try to take on the sun.”

Something caught Iguro’s thoughts. “Hiding?” At this, he and Shinazugawa shared a glance.

It was about time to go home if she was going to get any meaningful progress made on that poison. Shinobu set down the brush. “I think that covers most of the general idea about the Hashira training.”

“Then what’s left is figuring out how long we’ll do this, and when we’ll start…”

They figured out a few more details, bringing the meeting to a productive close. There was one more task clearly left to her to deal with. With some embarrassment, she smiled and accepted it, saying, “So that just leaves Tomioka-san, doesn’t it?”

“…then Shinazugawa-san will train them to withstand merciless beatings, and finally, Himejima-san will have them build their muscle strength out in the mountains with his training regimen.” As Shinobu reported the overview, Giyuu listened silently, and she concluded by prompting him with, “It likely won’t be enough, though.”

“No, it likely won’t.”

“Everyone sure is going to give it their best shot.”

“It seems so.”

“And? How about you, Tomioka-san?”

“I have nothing to teach, so it’s unfair to take their time. I’ll train on my own when I’m not on rounds.”

“Really? That’s not what anyone was hoping you’d say. Very well, then.”

And that was the extent that she had energy to deal with. Because the overview of Hashira training had already been sent to Kagaya, she added the update about Giyuu’s non-participation to her separate report about the state of her research.

The reply very soon came. Correspondence with Kagaya must have been carried by the fastest birds.

'Shinobu,

'Thank you for your efforts. You’ve always been supportive of Giyuu, but I understand how dire your mission is. I’ve asked Tanjirou to help me with Giyuu so that you can focus on your research. Our time is running short.

'As a matter of great urgency, I have a discreet request for how you must now devote your research. I want you to take this measure for the sake of our true goal, defeating Kibutsuji Muzan once and for all, in our generation. It will require the help of someone who has been at this longer than we have…'

Longer than any of them? Aside from many of the Cultivators, their Corp ran on the young side. Longer than the Corp? It was hundreds of years old. The only kind of being with a chance of having been at it longer than any one of them—

“Shinobu-san?”

She put down the letter and smiled. “Yes, Tanjirou-kun?”

He stood in the doorway on his crutch, a deep frown over his pajama attire. “Sorry. It looks like you got a letter from Oyakata-sama too. I shouldn’t interrupt.”

“You’re slinking around like I have reason to be angry with you.”

“Ah—well—your smell usually does have a lot of anger in it, so I know I shouldn’t worry…”

“Then I’m the way I always am. Please feel free to ask me anything.”

 Tanjirou hesitated, perhaps questioning her scent to be sure. “I don’t want to intrude on things, but, well, you see, Oyakata-sama asked me a favor…”

“To talk to Tomioka-san, right? That would help me out too, thank you.”

“Really!? I wouldn’t be intruding?”

 “I’ve done my best with him all this time, but he can be so stubborn. I can see why the other Hashira get frustrated with him.”

“They do? Is it—is it because of me and Nezuko? It is, isn’t it?”

“Of all the things Tomioka-san blames himself for, that one never seems to bother him,” she sing-songed back. Both she and Tanjirou were unsure how cheerful she was about that or not.

“Ah… ahaha…”

“Ufufu.”

Some unsure laughter aside, Shinobu frowned. “I worry about him too. May I ask what Oyakata-sama said about him, if you don’t think it’s private?”

“He’s afraid that he’s looking backward, by himself.”

‘By himself…’

Sooner or later, he would be. Even with the time she had left, Shinobu already had her own battles to face that had nothing to do with Giyuu, so she was already at her limit. But that was for the best, wasn’t it? The more distanced Giyuu was from her battles, the less he would know. The harder it would be for him to find a way to blame himself.

‘Tsutako-neesan died protecting me. I wanted to die.’
‘Sabito protected me… he fought demons alone and died while I was asleep.’
‘That’s why I’m not like the rest of you. I don’t deserve to consider myself a member of this Corp.’

Giyuu was already at his limit with those wings on his back. Shinobu knew that better than anyone. The only other person who might know Giyuu so well was Kagaya, who knew what it was Shinobu had to do.

And she was right to do it. Like so many Hashira who had come before her, Shinobu had to take down a demon in any way she must.

That was why that promise was always meant to protect Giyuu. Nothing would change about the risk they always faced. They were Hashira first, as Giyuu agreed to. That promise would have to sustain him. As his wife, Shinobu’s secrecy was all for the sake of protecting his heart from any blame.

“…I’m afraid Oyakata-sama may be right," she said to Tanjirou. "As a Hashira, my duty keeps me from being able to do more for Tomioka-san now. I have to move forward, like we all do.”

Tanjirou was steadfast, his eyes a warm, solemn glow. “If I can help Tomioka-san, then I’m happy to.”

Shinobu’s features relaxed with fondness. “I’m glad to hear that. He’s very fortunate to have someone like you, Tanjirou-kun. For as stubborn as he is, you’re someone who I know will just as stubbornly stick with him. It gives me some peace.”

“You can count on me. Ah—that brings me to why I’m here, actually. Do you know where I can find him?”

“Likely off training where he can be alone. Perhaps the dojo? He might have gone off to the north wing too,” she smiled. “Good luck!”

“Thank you! Off I go!”

 She waved, and when the door closed, she turned her attention back to her own letter from Kagaya.

'I still have more to discuss on the matter with her, but time is not on our side. Please come to my estate four days from now so that you can meet each other and gain each other’s friendship.'

The word ‘friendship’ where she anticipated the word ‘trust’ only made her suspicions tenser. Her stomach turned and her chest flared hot with psychosomatic outrage.

The next time Giyuu saw Shinobu, she was fast asleep. The wrinkle in her brow made it seem that her slumber wasn’t restful, so he set out his futon as quietly as he could. He woke up here and there throughout night as Shinobu tossed and turned, never quite screaming but always sounding like she would. The next morning, Shinobu was loathe to get out of bed and had barely managed to sit up and drink some water to combat her low blood pressure before Giyuu was fully dressed and ready for the day. He decided that after doing patrols he shouldn’t bother her, so he would stay in the north wing the following night.

Kamado Tanjirou bothered him instead.

The next time Shinobu saw Giyuu, he wasn’t looking good himself. He was worn out with a young swordsman hobbling around on a crunch following him like an imprinted duckling. Shinobu could not help but take some pleasure in seeing that. It lightened her sense of dread for the upcoming meeting at the Ubuyashiki Mansion.

The day after Shinobu sent Genya off to get started on Hashira training, Kanao reported back from the Mist Hashira’s training, saying she had already been allowed to continue to the Love Hashira's training. Later on, a peeved looking sparrow arrived with a note from Zenitsu asking to be excused from Uzui's training for medical reasons, and Shinobu ignored this note.

They were all getting along without Shinobu just fine. No one would notice her slip away the following morning to finally visit her master again.

   “Won’t you take up what they left to you?”

      “Feelings are eternal. We must act on the wishes that were left to us.”

         “Speaking of the training, I haven’t heard what Kochou’s doing. What will Kochou be teaching?”

            “You’ve gotten much better at expressing your own feelings, haven’t you, Kanao? This must be a sign that it really is the right time.”

It had been a long and full day.

Unusually, they found each other’s company by the end of it. With no active demons, there were no nighttime missions away from the Butterfly Mansion. It would have been impossible for either spouse to express how much they had been changed by their encounters over the last several hours, and unusually, Giyuu tried.

“Tanjirou was even following me to the toilet and the bath. I’ve never seen anyone so persistent.”

And Shinobu had never thought she’d leave a demon—two of them—alive, unharmed, in the close presence of her ailing master. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

The nights had gotten cold, so the couple was snuggled close in the dim light. Shinobu’s head throbbed, and Giyuu’s stomach gurgled with soba noodles. Shinobu found both his stomach and his mouth uncharacteristically verbose as Giyuu went on and on. “When Tanjirou reminded me of what Sabito said, there was a cold wind—it made all my hairs stand on end, like all my nerves were firing. All at once, it was like my body had to make up for years of being numb, feeling everything, right down to my cheek smarting with the pain of being slapped.”

“I can help you with that much if you liked the reminder.”

“It’s not like your poking,” he shot her an annoyed look. It was then that Giyuu saw how faded Shinobu’s expression was.

She must not have felt well. Something weighed on her heart and it was too heavy for a plaster smile.

Giyuu spoke quieter. “Were you able to see Okayaka-sama?”

“Yes…”

“…I see.”

She whispered. “There’s a lot he asked me to do. I need to try to see it through while he still has time.”

“I understand.”

“I can’t go on any more missions or training, and I can’t have anyone going in my lab. The girls already understand this.”

“Is it dangerous?” he asked.

“The lab?”

“For you to be interrupted.”

“Just don’t go in there,” she repeated.

There was something Shinobu was choosing not to say.

As they settled down to sleep, she rested her head on his arm for a pillow. Try though she might to hide it, her brows were tight, and her white lips were going to quiver if she didn’t shut them tightly. He kissed her temple, enjoying a whiff of her hair as he did so, then he nuzzled in comfortably for sleep. Whatever it was that she was being secretive about, it was important enough that she couldn’t take any risks. In his heart, Giyuu assured her that he would stand guard and cover whatever secret that was.

She was definitely leaving something unspoken.

This had first occurred to Giyuu when Tanjirou informed him that Shinobu was not participating in the Hashira Training. It was unusual for Shinobu to decline. She would always handle missions and trainings with grace no matter how busy or tired she was, and her teaching methods were bound to have been helpful even if she was only giving instructions, or “motivation.”

It was a serious matter if Shinobu was the one to put herself under conditions of rest.

Perhaps it had come to this.

Giyuu knew there was always a possibility, though the timing would never be convenient. This period of time was probably crucial for her. Giyuu had to do his best to keep her as stable and unbothered as she requested. He wouldn’t let anyone trouble her. At night he would take responsibility for the safety of Nezuko and everyone in the Butterfly Mansion; during the day, he would train the Corp members, and as well as himself, to try to achieve the marked state.

It wasn’t ideal if Giyuu wouldn’t live past the age of 25, but there was always the chance of being killed on any mission. Nothing ever changed about that. They were Hashira first, and spouses… family second.

Chapter Text

Dear Sensei,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written. As it turns out, there is very exciting news. As such, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to ask your help in looking after—

“Nezuko, stop it!”

“Oh… Oh-h-h-!”

Giyuu huffed as he lifted Nezuko over his shoulder, careful to stay away from the walls so that he wouldn’t give her leverage to kick off the walls and knock them both over. The last time he had physically restrained Nezuko she was freshly mindless, but now that she was so far advanced in her demon state she was grasping back at her own willfulness.

Why in the world was she so determined to enter the lab, specifically now that there was a rule against it?

“Oh… ka… SAN!”

Giyuu’s heart clenched. Had she said ‘Mother?’ This gave Giyuu enough pause to wonder if Nezuko had some special demon or elder sister sense, but not enough pause to loosen his grip as he carried her outside to find something new to distract her in the sunshine. He was going to have to hurry and send that letter to Urokodaki if he was going to have any hope of managing Nezuko while Tanjirou was away for training. At this rate, Giyuu wasn’t going to have much hope of conducting his own training either.

“Tomioka-san must have gone to bed. You can let Nezuko-san in now.”

A demon sneered back. “I’m not some servant you can order around—”

“Yushirou. Please collect Nezuko-san.”

“Right away.”

The suddenly cooperative demon fixed a paper to his forehead and slipped out of the lab. Had Shinobu not been looking in his direction, she never would have noticed the door open and close. It was dark in the hallway, and with how tightly the double-layered of curtains of the lab were bound against the windows, Shinobu realized she hadn’t seen a single beam of sunlight that whole day. She thought for all these years that she already worked on demon time, but now as she stifled a yawn, she realized she never accounted for demons functioning without sleep.

Nezuko was a special case in every way. They’d go on studying her samples for the rest of the night once they were done with the samples Tamayo was already absorbed in. “Looking at this under the microscope, I can tell you that I’m loathe to be near you.”

Shinobu smiled as tightly as the veins throughout her neck. “I already knew that much.”

Tamayo looked away from the microscope and up at her new colleague, whose cells she had been observing. She thought of all kinds of sharp responses for this cheeky girl, but age and the wisdom that came with it had taught her when to keep her mouth shut. She cut off the last knuckle of her finger and placed it in the middle of the sample, then looked back through the eyepiece to observe how much time it took before the fingertip changed color and texture, and then melted at the edges.

“It’s very powerful, but it needs time to work.”

“I’m aware. That’s why I’ve assumed it would take time.”

“In that time, an Upper Moon may master it.”

To make her point, Tamayo removed the fingertip bone with tweezers, rinsed it, and then held it out for Shinobu to see. In a moment, the bone was covered with flesh, and then skin. Shinobu made no comment, but her expression displayed mild frustration.

“You’ve created remarkably lethal poisons. However, they will never be as effective as bottling the sun.”

“And you’ve made remarkable medicines that left demons out there drinking more human blood.”

“That was only for demons I can trust, like myself and Yushirou. I only treated Nezuko-san once I was certain she and Tanjirou-san could be trusted.”

“And that other one you still have out there.”

“Who is watched over by his wife. His human wife,” she said. “Tanjirou-san saved what they had when he saved that man, so he hasn’t lost his humanity.”

“Which also brings us to your research on Nezuko-san’s transformative abilities. I’d like to hear about that in more detail.”

Tamayo eyed Shinobu a moment longer, then looked back to the dish of harrowing poison under the microscope. “One needn’t be a demon to lose their humanity, Shinobu-san. You stand to lose a lot yourself. You really don’t intend to tell your husband about this?”

“Telling him or not won’t change that I have no other recourse for fighting a demon of that rank. When we married each other, we promised each other that we were Hashira first and spouses second. It goes without saying that we knew this would end in one of our deaths. Besides, the less he knows, the less he can blame himself for anything. I’ll be just another casualty.”

“If you can call it that, I can hardly imagine your marriage has any depth of feeling at all.”

Shinobu furrowed her brow at her. “You don’t know anything about my husband.”

“I know the taste of mine.”

This threw Shinobu, especially for how suddenly it brought the taste of Tomioka’s kisses to mind. Her stomach turned when she recalled the taste of salmon, though. Since she had put her hand over her lips, that kept her quiet enough for Tamayo to go on.

“Maybe in your line of work, my husband was ‘just another casualty.’ To me, he was my first victim. I tore him apart before my children’s eyes and only considered him nourishment. My flesh knew his, so it made it easy to consume it and make it a part of me. It would be trite to say I’ve carried him with me all these centuries, when I was the one who gave him such a wretched, painful death. That is what the end of a marriage means, Shinobu-san. When it ends in death, there is nothing neat or tidy about it, even if you are intent on not leaving a drop of yourself behind.”

Shinobu pictured Giyuu standing empty, already draped in the two wings of those he had lost before. That image did not last long, for she replaced it with what was more accurate. His hands were not empty; they were holding a sword etched with his promise.

“You have my sympathy for your tragedy,” Shinobu replied to Tamayo, “I do not doubt the depth of the love you had for each other, or the hunger that drove you to the unthinkable. But my husband and I are Hashira, which you cannot understand unless you are one. That was what my sister told me, and I only understood it once I became a Hashira myself. I don’t suppose you had any sisters, did you, Tamayo-san?”

“I had daughters.”

“I see. You appear very young, if that is close to what your human form was.”

“It was a different time. Disease could come at any time, before many girls had the chance to become brides and mothers. The years I had were precious.”

“If not for what Kanae-neesan said to me, I probably would have put it off, or likely never done it at all. Well, for that matter, I doubt Tomioka-san would have either. Kanae-neesan got to see some of her wish granted, so I’ll get to tell her about it when I see her again. But I can’t go empty-handed. This poison has to work.”

“And for that,” Tamayo looked back to the sample, “we have a lot of work ahead of us. There are ingredients I can think to add to your regimen, but only as a favor. I only agreed to one purpose in cooperating with the Demon Slayer Corp, and that is what we must focus on if it's going to work.”

As much as Shinobu would have preferred to run tests on whatever Tamayo might prescribe, there likely was no time for doubts. If she trusted these demons enough to let them into the Butterfly Mansion, then she might as well trust a doctor with many lifetimes’ worth of experience.

“Okaaa-SA-n!”

Nezuko seemingly popped into existence with her arms thrown around Tamayo. Both Tamayo and Shinobu were started, but Tamayo’s bewildered look turned gentle as she hugged Nezuko back and just as soon had a toddler-size demon up in her arms for a snuggle. “No, Nezuko-san, I’m sorry. I’m not your mother,” she said, but her expression begged to differ. Shinobu’s instinct was to distrust that look because demons were always lying, but she couldn’t find that instinct believable. Maybe it was because of how happily Nezuko hummed and smiled and kicked her legs, but Shinobu found herself smiling too.

Then yawning.

“Shinobu-san? You should rest.”

“You heard her. Tamayo-sama said to leave.”

Tamayo ignored him and continued addressing Shinobu. “You still have battles ahead of you. Please take care of yourself.” Nezuko added to Tamayo’s point by leaning over to pat Shinobu on the head, something that no one had to her since she was an innocent child, not even in jest about her childlike statue. Perhaps Shinobu would have stayed and argued with Tamayo, but there was no arguing with a request from Nezuko.

Her new medicinal regimen started the day after that. The goal was potency, and Tamayo assured her of how it would enhance the effects of the wisteria. Shinobu felt proof of that in her own insides, especially her stomach. If it would put that demon through worse, she would stand it. She had to. She had to eat too, but that seemed even worse. At least Giyuu didn’t seem concerned the morning she pushed him out of the way of the toilet so that she could be sick in there.

Two days after that, Kanao had already completed all her training under the other Hashira. She implored that Shinobu train her.

There was absolutely no arguing with such a request from Kanao.

One cold but sunny afternoon, Giyuu gritted his teeth with frustration. Of all the unexpected intruders heading toward the lab, a cat?

“Go away. Get,” he said at it. The tricolored creature stared back up at him, hesitant to go forward, but taking steps anyway. “No,” Giyuu said louder, stepping in its way. The thing wasn’t listening and sped up to get around him. Giyuu was about to take some kind of desperate action like physically handling the feral beast when a voice startled him.

“Aw, a calico!”

He jumped at Kanroji’s voice, and out of the corner of his eye the cat did too, but that was the last he saw of it. Kanroji likewise stopped in her tracks, her arms outstretched toward the spot on the ground where it had been. Her lips bubbled with noises of surprise and confusion.

“Kanroji,” Giyuu addressed her, his own surprise lingering in his tone.

“Hello, Tomioka-san! I came to see Shinobu-chan. Is she in?”

“I’m sorry,” he declared. “No visitors allowed.”

“But I finally got a break from training. Not even a little bit?”

“She’s forbidden anyone from entering her lab.”

Frustrated though she was after having come all this way, she could not help but find Giyuu standing with his arms spread out very, very cute. Kanroji blushed and then hid a snort and a squeal behind her hand. “Tomioka-san, you’re such a sweet husband.”

“She’s forbidden me as well. She doesn’t want to be bothered.”

“Really? Then she really must need to focus... You know, I’m really sorry. I never knew all this time that you two were married, much less said anything at all to each other outside of the Hashira Meetings. I feel like such a dolt for not noticing. Some Love Hashira I am, so concerned with only my own romance coming to fruition someday.”

“I wouldn’t say we have ‘romance.’ Marriage isn’t always like that.”

“I think there’s a lot of things I never understood about marriage. Ever since that meeting, I’ve been thinking about it more, and why neither of you make much of a big deal out of it.”

“…”

“I think… it’s about time for me to give up on those fantasies. I’ve got to stay as focused as everyone else is. That’s what it means to be a Hashira.”

“No, you can be married and be a Hashira. We’ve done it.”

Kanroji shook her head, then looked back up to him with soft eyes over her smile. “Sometimes a girl must make a choice between being a Hashira and being the sort of bride she wants to be. Shinobu-chan made a different choice than I could. It’s alright if I’m never the sort of bride my mother was. I always kind of knew I never would be. But what I have now is just as meaningful and important. This whole Corp is my family, and I love them in a way that only a Hashira can.”

“Because you’re the Love Hashira?”

“Eh? Well, not because of that. I—well—I always kind of thought all Hashira felt that way?”

“…Iguro was right.”

“Hm?”

“My self-awareness as a Hashira really must be lacking. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No, no, no, that’s just because I make no sense! You know, it’s like how Muichirou-kun said it so much better. He was going to give up when it was just his own life at stake, but then when he saw that boy in the Swordsmith Village in trouble, pa-sssha! That’s when he got the mark, because he cared so much!”

“It wasn’t the 200 heart beats per minute and body temperature of 39 degrees?”

“Well, that too, but maybe before that… I think it wasn’t just that my own body was in peril. Something in everything little part of my body knew that if I perished there, then Tanjirou-kun and the others would perish too. It’s that love and that desire to protect someone else that brings it out, I think. It’s what makes the heart go doki-doki so fast like that.”

“I see.”

“Eh? You do?”

“Yes.”

“Teh-heh! Aww!” she blushed madly and put her hands to her cheeks. “I never thought I’d ever have anything to teach you, Tomioka-san! After all, you’re my senior by so many years in this, and I’m sure someone like you would have no trouble attaining a mark. I’m so glad to hear you’ll join us for the training! I really hope it’ll be soon, these Corp members can be a handful! That’s too bad about Shinobu-chan, though…”

“Please leave her be.”

Kanroji’s eyebrows knit over her smile. “I’ve always looked up to you both as model Hashira. It’s very, very, very late, but please allow me to offer my congratulations on your marriage! And tell Shinobu-chan I’m sorry I was so oblivious and that I’m really, super happy for her too!”

Kanroji bowed and excused herself after leaving Giyuu with a jar of honey as a gift. He was unsure what to do with it and stood there. After all, he was still on guard duty, at least until Urokodaki arrived to guard the lab from Nezuko. Then Giyuu would finally make good on his promise to Tanjirou that he would join everyone in training.

Giyuu stole a look in the direction of the lab.
Wouldn’t he be doing more to protect Shinobu by not getting the mark?

A moment later, a more unusual pair of visitors showed up to the Butterfly Mansion—up in the trees, no less. “To-mi-o-ka,” hissed a voice.

Giyuu looked up to see Iguro and Kaburamaru, and he continued holding the honey and staring as Iguro jumped down before him. “Iguro,” Giyuu said, more in observation than in greeting.

“I had Kochou’s Tsuguko show me the way here after her training. That’s the only reason I’m here,” he said.

That did not fully explain it, Giyuu thought. “That doesn’t fully—”

“Kanroji looked upset. What did she say to you?”

“…”

“…speak, Tomioka.”

“She told me she can’t be a bride.”

A shutter started at Iguro’s ankles and took its time going all the way up his neck and down his wrists and pointed fingertip. His voice went lower as he confirmed, “She came to tell you that?”

“Yes.”

“W-h-y?”

“She said she’s prioritizing being a Hashira.”

“I get it. I see what this is about then. Seeing your example made her feel bad for having dreams. If that’s all it is, then I get it. But I still don’t see why she came to tell you that.”

“Kochou is indisposed.”

“Let’s get our training out of the way. Have a match with one another like all the Hashira are supposed to. That is the expectation, in case you were unaware of it. Come with me, and I will take you on right now.”

“I’m ensuring that no one bothers Kochou while she’s in her lab. Already today I’ve had to drag Nezuko away three times. It takes someone who can combat her demon strength to do that.”

“Then just call the blonde kid back.”

Giyuu wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“Or Kamado Tanjirou, for all I care. You pick and choose odd ways to show care and affection for your spouse, especially after all the trouble you put her through.”

Giyuu thought of Shinobu's desperation in pushing him aside to reach the toilet. All he had been able to do for her in that moment was leave her alone, even though this was probably half his fault. “I have put her though trouble,” he frowned.

Iguro flushed red. “I didn’t come here to have this discussion. Let’s spare right here, then—I can be silent if you can manage that too.”

So that was the meaning of Iguro’s training! Controlling their strikes so precisely that they could even keep their practice weapons from making a sound when they struck each other. It sounded interesting to test the capabilities of Water Breathing like that. “That should be fine. I’ll return with bamboo swords.”

“Very well.”

Iguro stayed put and waited, looking up at the mansion with curiosity, and that ongoing sense of unease. This place was crawling with the sense of a female demon. It was astounding that Shinobu had put up with Nezuko here for so long.

When Giyuu came back, he tossed one bamboo blade to Iguro, and then took a ready stance with his own bamboo sword in only his right hand. In his left hand, he was still carrying a glass jar of honey, tenderly against his chest. It reminded Iguro all over again how much he hated this guy.

Nezuko relished all the attention Giyuu gave her. She often stayed in a small form around him, which Giyuu found unnecessary. She was already smaller than him in her usual form.

“Bay… i.. ra.. bi… whai… aa… you EYEs… so red?” she chattered along to herself, somewhat musically.

“Is that a song?” he asked her.

“Ay… bi… ra… bit… RED… be… rry…”

“You mean, ‘baby,’” came a flamboyant voice.

Giyuu tensed as though ready for battle when he heard it appear so suddenly. His eyes shot up to the top of what cast a shadow upon him, and there was the former Sound Hashira.

Nezuko cheered, and Giyuu jumped, not at all something he would do in battle. Nezuko was hopping up and down with her arms outstretched at Uzui. “Baby! Ba-by!”

“Now you mean ‘God of Festivities.’”

“Nezuko, quiet.”

“No need to shush her. She’s a better singer than Kamado, even if it is the same drab little lullaby.” Not missing a beat, he scooped the little demon up into the crook of what was left of his arm. “Oyakata-sama said I get a turn with the littler Kamado now.”

“…”

“What?”

“I wasn’t ‘having a turn’ with her.”

“What were you doing out here, if not playing house?”

“I was defending my wife.”

Uzui’s features all fell to an expression of disgust. “Sure, now you say something like that. Either way, you weren’t going out and doing any Hashira Training like you said you would. I was keeping a lot of those guys around extra long to buy you time, and it sure doesn’t seem appreciated.”

‘I was prioritizing my wife’ did not seem like something Giyuu could say to someone who had to put three wives in danger for a mission. It was certainly not something Shinobu would accept either. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

“Don’t apologize to me. It’s your cultivator who’s ticked off at you.”

“You’ve spoken with Sensei? Is he on his way here?”

“Yeah and nope.”

“But I asked him to come—”

“Oyakata-sama and Kamado both beat you to it.”

“Oyakata-sama did?”

“I suggest you improve that dull Hashira awareness of yours, Tomioka. Things are going to be moving a lot faster than you’re ready for. Makes me worried about you,” Uzui’s voice fell strangely low. “I’ve got orders to take Nezuko to a hiding place. I can’t tell you where it is.”

If it was that secretive, then it was important.

Muzan was a looming threat no matter where Nezuko was. It was safer to have her far away from the lab—and there he went again, thinking to prioritize Shinobu. Giyuu grimaced, then bowed his head. “I understand. I’ll start training right away. Please give Oyakata-sama and Sensei my regards.”

The last shreds of Uzui’s cheer looked blasted away. “I’ll have the chance to do that for your Sensei.”

The few fleeting moments when Giyuu saw her, Shinobu was preoccupied. She had set aside her plaster smiles, for they did nothing to help her with the fierce determination that must have been occupying her thoughts. Giyuu loved and admired it and tried to keep from being perceived so that she wouldn’t trouble herself with whipping back out that useless smile. It wasn’t often that he could gaze at her in a battle that absorbed her so completely.

But he had to leave her to it, like he promised.

To keep from bothering her, Giyuu chose a bamboo forest for the site of his training sessions. It was a good place to meditate, seeing as it took so long for any trainees to trickle in. With how long it usually took them to pass the previous stages, Giyuu wondered how long he should keep them all for, once they finally arrived.

“Tomioka-san—”

His hair all stood on end as Tokitou’s face appeared upside down before him. He had heard that stealth was a skill of Mist Breathing, but because it was so rare to be able to sneak up on Giyuu, he was always especially surprised when it happened.

“As I thought, no one’s here yet. Now’s as good a time as ever for training, then.”

“…Right.”

“…Hm,” Tokitou folded his arms and pondered Giyuu.

“What?”

“I just thought being married might make you happier.”

“I guess this was a topic at the last meeting.”

“You’d have known that if you stuck around for it. I don’t think I ever felt very aware of it myself. The thought of you two being together was just like a cloud that rolled in sometimes. Something that would fizzle away in a moment, like it was never there.”

“Marriage isn’t a cloud.”

“I guess Hashira marriage is like one, though.” Tokitou made no further comments, and they had their match together. Although Giyuu held his own against Iguro, Tokitou was more of a challenge, in ways Giyuu continued to find startling. He was grateful to have full use of two hands.

On a night when Giyuu was out on patrol, Shinobu enacted the next step in Kagaya’s plan. “Himejima-san,” she whispered, beckoning him to a side entrance, “over here.”

“Shinobu.”

She led him down the dark hallway to the hospital, which had no occupants while the Corp members were all away at training with nothing more than bumps and scrapes. “Thank you for coming. This all might be rather shocking, so I’d like you to have a nice place to sit. I’ll make us some tea first.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself,” he replied.

“For you, it’s my pleasure.”

Himejima knew something had been off about her ever since the Hashira Meeting. The overly sweetened words confirmed it. It left a bad taste in his mouth, even if the tea was brewed to perfection. “I already know I’m here to meet the demon,” he said.

“Multiple demons, actually. She comes as a set,” replied Shinobu, taking a sip. “All the more help we can get, I suppose. They have some interesting Blood Techniques.”

He really did not like this tea. “What is this?”

“Black tea. Our guest’s favorite. To be honest, I’m not much of a fan of it myself,” she said, punctuating that statement with the clack of a teacup being set down on a dish. “It doesn’t go down very smoothly. Or that’s just the anger rising,” she said through twitching lips, “I didn’t want to cooperate with them anymore than you do.”

“Despite all your talk of wanting to befriend demons? It’s not good to tell lies.” He was glad to have found a chance to finally say that to her. He wanted to add that it was not good to steal from someone else, be it their words or their identity.

“I’m too tired to argue with you on that. And at this point, I don’t care. They’ve found a way to survive that doesn’t kill any humans, and they even compensate them fairly for their blood. I respect that. Tamayo-san’s input has been immensely helpful, and I’ve learned more about demon anatomy and regenerative mechanisms in these past weeks than I have in years of study on my own. With this, I might actually have a chance.”

“You, and not ‘we’?”

She paused to look back at him. Though he would not see it, he would feel it. He probably already knew what she meant. “There’s no use in being secretive around you.”

“Then you are being secretive. And I take it Tomioka doesn’t know.”

“It’s not Tomioka-san’s battle. He doesn’t need to know.”

“It won’t change what the result will do to him.”

“We have to be Hashira before all else.”

“This is why I could never call what you have any sort of marriage. There’s no openness. You don’t let him know you, or anything you try to face on your own. You don’t try to know him either if you rationalize your way around his feelings like this. Kanae would be disappointed to see this scam you put on.”

“I’ve made Kanae-neesan as I happy I can, every day,” she sharpened her tone back. “I made promises to her long before I made any to Tomioka-san. Being her sister is what made me who I am today.”

“Yes. There’s a bitter amount of truth in that statement.”

Shinobu knew what he meant but chose not to address it. She took a deeper tone to drive in her point. “I can’t afford to see myself as a sister, a wife, or anything else anymore. In this upcoming battle, I am only the Insect Hashira.”

The Insect Hashira, with barely enough of herself to go around. If she could separate her own flesh into millions of pieces like Kibutsuji Muzan could, she’d leave her arms and legs outside to train with Kanao, one eyeball on the microscope in the lab, her whole digestive track at the latrine, and the rest of herself in bed. For every brilliant idea Tamayo had, Shinobu had to nurse her jealous inadequacies with reminders that she had accomplished plenty for the comparatively short years she had been working with demon flesh and poisons.

Shinobu also distracted herself from her inadequacies by arming herself with sarcasm. “If can’t break myself into a million pieces, then Kibutsuji Muzan shouldn’t be allowed to either. I should use the inverse of one of my poisons on him.”

Tamayo’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”

“The inverse of a poison? I have before.”

“You have a method that might prevent his flesh from breaking apart?”

“I suppose if I wanted the poison to work that way. Yes.”

“Remarkable. My work has all been stunted by my inability to touch wisteria. Meeting someone as brilliant as you has been so valuable,” Tamayo said as though speaking into the microscope she put her eye back to. Again, the demon had spoken with no hint of a lie. Shinobu’s cheeks flushed with praise; and then she flushed harder with shame for letting her psychosomatic symptoms run amok.

She parted her lips to say, ‘Your work is valuable too.’
‘You’re also remarkable.’
‘I’m glad I met you too.’

But no sound came out.

If a demon could say such things, why was it so hard for Shinobu to say truthful things as well? Why did it feel unsafe, even if Shinobu had no fear of the other person? What was there to fear in maybe forming something like a friendship? How could such a thing ever hurt her?

Probably because she didn’t want a person she admired to see her any more clearly, lest they see all her inadequacies and excuses for what was too much for her to face. The sarcasm, the plaster smiles, it was all as much of a shield as the projects Shinobu used to distract herself from her thoughts.

Trying to imitate Tamayo’s brilliant recipe for turning demon cells human, forging her own way with her own wisteria methods to derive some satisfaction, it was all self-serving in the end. But better to focus on that medicine than to consider how everything she did was always selfish.

Kanae would have seen right through her.

In some ways, it would be nice to be see-through.

“Kanao. Move faster.”

There was a comfort in Himejima being courageous enough to criticize her, for so few people ever did. But she wasn’t close enough to tell Himejima how the medicine made her feel sick, and how Tamayo made her feel inadequate, and how desperate she was to unlock the secrets of how to stop a demon’s regenerative abilities, for the world had already been waiting for this answer through a thousand years of cruelty. She couldn’t tell him how impending death weighed upon her, for hers did not matter any more than that of any other Hashira or Mizunoto or child left slaughtered.

“Stay in control of your grip!”

But if someone could see; if there were some way to see into the unseen world, then Shinobu could look straight into the body of a demon to see how she might tinker with its workings. She could have looked into the bodies of each of her Tsuguko to tell them where and how to use their Breath to stop the poison and stop the bleeding, instead of being left to keep pondering it months and years too late.

“You will have to be the judge of the timing. There won’t be anyone to tell you what to do. You will have to make the decision, Kanao. And it will have to be right.”

She could look into Giyuu’s heart to see what troubles and joys loomed there, swimming around inside him and never finding their way into words. He could look into hers too, to see how tired she was. How afraid she was that this all would fail. They could know without the pain of prying each other open everything that they could never dare to let escape their lips.

“That’s enough, Kanao. Go eat, then practice on your own in the dojo.”

“What about you, Shihan?”

“I’m just going to rest my eyes here,” Shinobu replied, leaning against the pillar of the veranda. She had spent most of Kanao’s practice there, watching over her in the garden. Kanao left her be, and Shinobu napped, blanketed in sunlight and the butterfly haori.

What felt like only moments later, she smelled Giyuu’s Breath over her lips.

Giyuu played the scene back over and over in his mind.

On a break from training and rounds to check for demon activity, he had returned home to the Butterfly Mansion and found Shinobu fast asleep, her face serene. Though calm, she still looked as though she was in battle. Maybe a year from now, he’d come back to this scene and find her rewarded for her efforts, her arms filled, and a true, laughing smile gracing her face as a small hand reaches out to touch her cheek.

Picturing it again stirred Giyuu’s heart faster. But that was a future never assured, for any battle could be lost. As a Hashira, he had lost many. Shinobu’s silence must have been because she knew this as well as he did. As Giyuu had gazed that day, he was overwhelmed with pride in her. He knew he had to leave her be, but he couldn’t help himself from one light kiss to encourage her.

It wasn’t meant to be, though—

“Na-a-a-ah. Tomioka.”

Giyuu’s thoughts were immediately back to the bamboo grove. He stood straight and faced Shinazugawa, who arrived with his arm hung over the wooden sword across his shoulders. “Shinazugawa,” Giyuu said to him, “I take it you’re here for training.”

“Yeah. We’ll get to that. I’ve got somethin’ to ask you first.”

“Very well.”

“About Shinobu…”

“What about her?”

“…she in the family makin’ way?”

“Likely.”

“I knew it.” So saying, Shinazugawa heaved a big Breath. Then he stared Giyuu down. “You better take care of her.”

“I am. Right now, that means giving her the space she needs to take care of herself.”

“Alright, fine. As long as you noticed. She looked something awful at the meeting and I thought my heart was in my stomach the minute she said, ‘it needn’t be said why I’m not like the rest of you,’” he said, somewhat mimicking her with a change in his tone before he scoffed. “’Course she’d be all coy about something as important as that.”

Giyuu gave him a befuddled look that Shinazugawa interpreted as a sneer. “You thought she’d announce a pregnancy like that? She’s too cautious to say anything too soon. What she clearly meant is that she doesn’t have the strength to cut off a demon’s head and wouldn’t be a candidate for attaining a mark.”

“What? That’s all she meant?”

“It’s obvious.”

“Don’t you go telling me what’s obvious and what’s not, let’s just get on with this.”

As they sparred, Giyuu felt a tickle of excitement for having been able to tell someone—especially since Shinazugawa figured it out. That meant Giyuu was more likely to have been right. It was also nice that Shinazugawa cared so much, although there was no indication on Giyuu’s face that he felt this way.

Now that the topic had been spoken of, however, wherever it was that Giyuu had sealed off his excitement had flung open. It fluttered out more and more, like he was walking into a garden filled with butterflies.

If Shinobu was expecting, then that meant their first child was coming. If all went well, Shinobu was going to be a mother. He was going to be a father.

CRACK! Shinazugawa landed a strike that damaged the wooden sword Giyuu used.

He was going to be a father!

It was especially nice to have Shinazugawa in the know so that Giyuu had someone he could speak to while it was still too early to allow anyone else to be excited. There was still this worrisome stage to get through first, which Shinobu did not even feel assured enough in to allow Giyuu to be involved yet.

But it was exciting, and he couldn’t help that.

“Come on, come on, what’s the matter!” Shinazugawa yelled between more strikes. “I thought you weren’t like the rest of us!”

In answer, Giyuu swept low with a Water Breath form, and Shinazugawa leapt over it.

“Too slow, man!”

On their next strikes, they were of equal strength, and neither blade could take it. The wood snapped, and the very next thing to crack was Shinazugawa’s knuckles.

“Nice. Then the next step is to kill each other with bare fists.”

“—Wait! Wait, wait, wait, stop!!” came Tanjirou, appearing over the fence. After he jumped over, he positioned himself between Giyuu and Shinazugawa and yelled, “Please stop right there! You mustn’t kill one another!”

“You shut the hell up. In the first place, we’re not even allowed to be around one another. What were you doing snoopin’ around and watching anyway?”

“Are you fighting for ohagi? If that’s the case, I’ll do my best to make as much—”

“Are you freakin’ messing with me?”

“What? No, no, no, no, I’m serious! Shinazugawa-san, you love ohagi, don’t you? When you were training us, you always sort of had this light aroma of rice cake and red bean paste. And when you came back from breaks you smelled really nice like matcha and ohagi, so I just…”

Giyuu was awash with this new insight. “Shinazugawa… you like ohagi?”

“It really is so good, isn’t it?” chimed in Tanjirou. “Do you like it better with smooth bean paste or chunky bean paste? I always really loved the ohagi my grandmother used to make—”

Shinazugawa ended the conversation by upper-cutting Tanjirou. Giyuu gasped, for Shinobu had spent a lot of time healing that jaw and she was going to be very angry with Shinazugawa if he broke it again. “I’ve got my own training to get back to,” the Wind Hashira grumbled and started walking off, “We’ll end this here.” Before disappearing around the fence, he stopped and finished, “Good luck to you guys.”

With Tanjirou conked out on the gravel, Giyuu did not have much else to do besides watch over him. Tanjirou’s face looked doughy and childlike when he was unconscious. Maybe someone Giyuu would have a son or a daughter with a face like that.

Giyuu heaved a heavy Breath to regain his focus. He was going to have to be very mindful not to tell Tanjirou how excited he was. For all Giyuu knew, it would slip right out of him. He had to distract himself, so he thought back to that last brush of what was almost a kiss with his wife.

Shinobu had stopped him with her fingertips against his mouth. “Not now, please,” she had said with an apologetic smile. Giyuu’s chest churned with shame, for he should have known better.

“May I sit here?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she replied with a light giggle. “You live here.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

He made no rebuttal as he sat. He kept his gaze on her a moment longer before he said more. “This may be our last chance to have any rest.”

“I’m always so afraid of that! It seems things never calm down, do they?”

“I hope Nezuko is calmer now. She should be with Urokodaki-sensei, I hope.”

“She is. I heard from Oyakata-sama.”

“Hm. What do you think…”

“Hm?”

“...the world will be like, one year from now?”

“Ara. That’s nice to hear you so forward-facing. A little strange, though.”

“Do you think it will still be a world with demons?”

Her tone, and her shoulders fell. “We can’t let it be. The time may be coming even sooner than that.”

“Kochou.”

“Hm?”

“May I hold your hand?”

The plaster all disappeared from Shinobu’s face; he could see straight through her into all her fears. “If you hold it the way you do when you make promises,” she replied, offering her hand at ease, face down like she offered him a seashell instead than a warm palm to welcome him.

Giyuu’s hand wrapped all the way around hers and he gave her knuckles a squeeze. It was not unlike what the grip of his sword felt like.

This way of holding hands was not comfortable; but it was theirs, it was how Hashira showed one another support.

He gave her another squeeze and stood. Being Hashira first meant that he didn’t have time to stay there and accompany her in her battle. “I have to go keep my promise to Tanjirou,” he announced with a frown.

That would be good reason to be annoyed with him, but Shinobu was not. She beamed up at Giyuu with the most sincere, bittersweet smile he had ever seen grace her lips and silvery eyes. “I know. And I’m so proud of you.”

“Ah—arara—huh?? Giyuu-san?”

Tanjirou was back awake. Giyuu stuck to relevant topics. “Shinazugawa got angry and went off somewhere else.”

“Is that so? Why were you two fighting?”

Fighting? Shinazugawa was angry, but he had wished Giyuu’s budding family well. “We weren’t fighting. As part of Hashira Training, the Hashira also spar with each other.”

“Oh, really, was that it? Oh, I see, that makes sense, those were wooden blades, after all,” Tanjirou went on. His face was still doughy. “Of course, no wonder. I’m sorry I caused trouble.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I didn’t say anything to help either, so Shinazugawa stayed angry, like usual. But I’m glad that I know his favorite food now. From now on, I’ll carry ohagi around in my sleeve so I can give him some the next time I see him.” Giyuu really wanted to see Shinazugawa and talk with him more already.

Tanjirou was supportive. “Oh! That’s a good idea!”

As Giyuu pictured all the exciting thoughts he wanted to share and how nice it was to have Shinazugawa to share them with, he smiled the smile that Shinobu preferred to keep secret. “I think that will help us to become friends.”

“I’ll do that, too!” Tanjirou joined in, swept up in Giyuu’s enthusiasm. The enthusiasm would have been imperceptible to most people, but Tanjirou had a different sort of sense for these things. Aside from empathy, it was his nose. “You smell really happy today.”

“Do I?” Giyuu asked back. He couldn’t help that, and at this rate he was going to blab everything. He had to keep them focused on training. “Are there any other Corp members coming?”

“Not yet. I finished up Himejima-san’s training a little before the others with me did.”

“I can only think to train you by sparring. Is your chin in good enough shape to get started?”

“My chin’s fine!” he said, paying no attention to any other damage he very well should have received from being knocked out cold. “Shinazugawa-san must have been holding back. I don’t think he meant to do any damage.”

“I see.”

“It’s not like that time Kanao—”

“Um—”

They both looked up to the opening at the fence, where Kanao stood with one hand tight against her chest, and her face sweaty and hesitant. Giyuu sat up straight, whereas Tanjirou was already trotting over to her side. “Kanao? What’s the matter?”

“I’d like to… talk to Giyuu-san…” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh. Should I leave?”

“Yes…”

Tanjirou looked back and forth between Giyuu and Kanao, then put a hand on her shoulder as he passed by her. “I’ll go train on my own over there in the bamboo, then. You can come tell me when you’re done.”

“Yes.”

With Tanjirou gone, the Water Hashira and the Tsuguko stood face to face, several feet away. To Giyuu’s recollection, this was the first time he and Kanao were ever alone together for more than having been left in the same room. It was, beyond a doubt, the first time Kanao sought him out to speak to him.

Giyuu had to assume the worst about Shinobu’s condition. “What happened?” he asked.

“There’s something… I decided I want to tell you… about Shihan.”

Chapter Text

Kanao looked sick with whatever words she was about to expel. “I’ve never decided to do anything like this. Shihan is going to be so angry at me.”

“You did make her angry when you entered the Final Selection.”

“She’s going to be angry with you, too.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one who can stop her,” she said in so soft a voice that Giyuu had to lean closer to hear her. She squeezed her eyes shut. “It may be against Corp rules… because it’s interfering with killing a demon…”

“What are you talking about? You… uh… you need to use more words…”

“…but I wanted to give you a chance!”

Shinobu had been feeling better.

After weeks of the new regimen, her body must have adjusted to the new components Tamayo prescribed her. Now that Tamayo was off with one medicine in hand and Kanao was off with another, Shinobu was able to turn her attention to that which she carried herself. Based on her weight and the concentration, that meant she carried roughly 700 times the normal lethal dose of wisteria.

Lethal to a typical demon, anyway.

Without having encountered an Upper Moon, it was hard to gauge if this was excessive or anywhere near enough, especially if it only took sparing bites of her. Tamayo assured her that this recipe would be damaging, but there was still the insurmountable issue of how long it would take for the poison to take effect. It would have to be stealthy and not make the demon suspect there would be anything dangerous in her at all. After all, if she made any effort with her usual methods of fighting, that would tip the demon off to poisons she already used. That was inevitable; she would have to put up a fight if she wanted to entice the demon to eat her in the first place.

Not that she wanted that. Of course not. All Shinobu wanted was to win.

It was a good thing she was feeling more rested and in better condition for that fight, and as she observed her cells under the microscope, the cells seemed healthy and unaffected by the poison. As they wriggled around on the slide seemingly living their own rich interior lives, Shinobu found herself looking for all the new things she had learned thanks to working with Tamayo. Human and demon cells were not so different; they were triggered and stopped in different ways from similar processes. If Shinobu and Tamayo had started their work together years ago, Shinobu probably could have applied that knowledge to many more human victims.

Not that it likely would have saved Kanae. It would be deeply interesting to tell her all about this, though. To tell her how Kanao had grown up, and how nice marriage had been. It would probably surprise Kanae that Giyuu was the one Shinobu chose, but once she told her about his silly smiles and the depths of his promises, Kanae probably understand what Shinobu liked about him. Kanae would probably be surprised to hear that Giyuu was the one who befriended a demon first.

That still shocked Shinobu. Thinking back to it would still make something flare up inside of her sometimes with how she could not believe he ever made that choice. Maybe the anger was sometimes directed at herself for not having known him well enough to expect it.

After all, she always assumed he felt the same way she did.

For as much anger as Giyuu had always felt towards demons…

--exactly like her--

…whenever he saw the tears of someone who lost their family to a demon...

...and however much rage he felt whenever he heard those cries of anguish…

--she was also so angry--

...somehow, until now, he had never known the meaning of being so mad that he was ‘seeing red.’

“Kochou. We need to have a talk. Now.”

It already wasn’t a good sign that Giyuu had shown up at the door of her lab. Himejima had already taken Tamayo and Yushirou back to the Ubuyashiki estate the night before. Even the stinking cat was gone, so they were alone.

It was unusual for Giyuu to put such growling emphasis into his tone. Shinobu straightened her posture as she eyed him. “That’s rare for you to be the talkative one.”

“Don’t give me that lip, you know what this is about. What the hell have you been thinking, planning to get eaten by a demon?”

That was what this was about? Here she had been preparing everything she would tell him about how the new demons in their home were there by Kagaya’s request, but she was never prepared to tell Giyuu any of this other business, because he was never supposed to know. Kanao was going to get an earful later, once this conversation was dealt with. “Only if it came to that. It’s what any Hashira would do–”

“Not ‘only if,’ that’s the only plan you have. Is dying going to avenge your sister’s ghost? That’s ridiculous!”

She stepped sideways to him, closing the door to the lab behind her as she passed him in the hallway and headed for the door to the outside, an escape. “My sister is my own business, Tomioka-san. Stay out of it.”

“You say that like I should have been out there for years obsessing over chasing down the demon that killed my sister.”

“I wouldn’t stop you. It'd bring her some peace, wouldn't it?”

“Don’t drag Tsutako-neesan into this,” he said, blocking Shinobu before she reached her hand for the door. “Kanae’s not even the issue, we are. You don’t have a care about what I’d think of this plan!”

“Oh? And when did we get so open about how we slay demons? Or how we don’t?”

Giyuu’s throat plummeted with how she reminded him of that—how much the sting of betrayal was splayed across her face that night on Mt. Natagumo, then how she turned away when she couldn’t stand to have him look at her. Giyuu had felt sick with guilt all that time and was so clumsy in expressing it. It wasn’t that he ever wanted to keep secrets from Shinobu, and he wished he would have said more if it would have prevented her from ever feeling like he didn’t value her.

He had tried to admit he was wrong, though, not like Shinobu, she was cold and closed off now that he was the one feeling like garbage tossed away and unimportant in the broader mission they were all consumed in. If he could make her feel the shame he did back then, he would, but all he had were clumsy words like she always pestered him for and said she needed more of.

Shinobu pushed past him to go outside, but he just as soon followed her out there saying anything that would spill out of his mouth. “This isn’t about ridding the world of a demon. All you want is self-satisfying revenge.”

“Ridding the world of demons is what I always promised, to you and to my sister. I don’t see why you’re so shocked. This has always been our priority.”

“That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it? You care more about revenge than you care about me.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but now that the words left his mouth, they were believable. “And you were the one who proposed marriage, knowing you’d just throw it away? It never meant anything to you.”

How could it? She knew what Tsutako and Sabito’s deaths meant to him. Shinobu must have never understood the first thing about him if she didn’t. She must not have cared if she never figured out that much, for all her coy toying with promises to support one another. She only ever meant to pull the support right out from under him and let him plummet as soon as he finally found some way to relax into her care.

“You’re putting words in my mouth. We only agreed to give it a shot because we understood what we both had to do. We slay demons, Tomioka-san. We would never enjoy a typical marriage for as long as demons exist.”

“I thought we could at least dream together, Shinobu.”

She shuttered, red straight to her ears. That was a name reserved for vulnerable moments. He was reaching too deep where he wasn’t welcome. “You’re awfully chatty this evening. I don’t have time for this. Excuse me–”

He grabbed her wrist. “You’re planning to kill yourself, I’m the one who has no time.”

“It’s no different from the risk we face on any other mission. I’ll do what I have to and you’ve always known that.”

“I can’t know if you don’t tell me anything! Maybe you’re the one who should talk more!”

“Let go of me.”

“I’m not handing you over to any demon!”

She jutted a knife out the back of her heel, a threat he knew her well enough to expect now. He knew every curve and weakness of her body; if he couldn’t get her to feel shame, then he could force her to face how stupid she was being. Giyuu swept her ankles from the side, knocking her almost smacking flat against the forest floor, if not for how he stopped her fall with a snap from her wrist. In just as quick of a motion, he lowered her to the ground and pinned her legs before she could slash him or have a better angle to get away.

“Let me go!” Shinobu struggled, and Giyuu silently glared her down, the scar she gave him still clear along his left temple. She gritted her teeth. “This is against Corp rules, Tomioka-sa–”

“You’re Tomioka-san.”

“You’re preventing me from killing a demon.”

“I’m preventing you from dying.”

“That was never a promise we made.”

“Then what did we promise?”

“Nothing,” she said back. “We said nothing was ever really going to change. We were only two weak pillars leaning on each other for support, knowing that someday we’ll crumble.”

Giyuu swallowed hard, looking for words, thinking only of some hollow vision of Shinobu smiling and holding their child. He had held that image in his heart until only an hour ago. His eyes stung. That support to lean on was already long gone.

All the trust he ever had in her, the comfort in her affection… gone in an instant.

Was this what she felt like the night she discovered Nezuko? As Giyuu’s anger wavered, he was sucked into a whirlpool of sadness. Why did Shinobu never tell him any of this? Why did she leave him in the dark about the struggles he promised to support her in? Despite how maddening the loss of trust was, there was the terrifying thought he’d lose Shinobu too.

She went on with a hiss in her voice. “Getting sentimental instead of facing your duties as a Hashira? This is why no likes you. Stop it, Tomioka-san. I’m a Hashira first and foremost. And that’s all I’ll be if I must.”

Giyuu knew her too well. He knew when her words were poison, and when her silvery eyes were sad, and she really must not have known him at all if she never suspected him of being able to look through her. She couldn’t have wanted this either—

“C-A-A-A-A-W!! OYAKATA-SAMA’S MANSION!! HASHIRA ASSEMBLE!! CAW-CAW-CAW-CAW!! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN!!”

With only the briefest glance to one another, they cast off their titles of husband and wife in an instant and ran.

They together charged toward the Ubuyashiki estate, wasting not an ounce of energy to say a word to each other. The explosion was horrific, and their seconds face to face with Muzan were gone before they started as everyone plunged into the Infinity Fortress.

The fall took longer than the encounter. In trying to make sense of it all, Giyuu looked from down to up to ascertain what direction he was oriented. Far behind him, he saw an unmistakable green and black checkered haori. “Tanjirou!” he called after him.

Hearing Giyuu’s voice gave Shinobu something to orient herself toward. Kicking off a banister she passed by, she altered her direction to sail to her right, somersault in the air, and get her feet below her. The butterfly haori caught Giyuu’s attention below, and they had a fleeting moment to catch each other’s eyes before sailing down back-to-back.

As soon as there was something solid beneath their feet again, a flood of malformed demons poured through a sliding door. Each demon something the two Hashira could make short work of, but there were so many of them—more than even seemed to make sense in one place.

“Breath of the Insect…”

“Breath of Water…”

“Dance of the Butterfly: Caprice!”

“Fourth Form: Striking Tide.”

Shinobu needed to stab each and every demon to have an effect, but Giyuu had the strength to cut off multiple heads in a single Breath. For as often as they had cornered demons together from opposing sides of mountains, this was the first time they were closed in on together and forced to act defensively, protecting one another from every blind angle.

“Dance of the Bee Sting: True Flutter!”

“Ninth Form: Splashing Water Flow, Turbulent.”

“Dance of the Dragonfly: Compound Eye Hexagon!”

When at last the room of them was clear, they panted, Shinobu more heavily than Giyuu. The disorienting effects of the bizarre space they had fallen into caught up to her, and she sank to her knees. The gut-wrenching realization at last took hold of her.

“Oyakata-sama,” she trembled.

“He’s similar to you.”

Giyuu certainly knew how to choose his words. She swallowed hard.

“…Yes,” she said back. What right did she have to be trembling? Was it so unsurprising that Kagaya would find his own way to fight?

“…”

“…”

They still caught their Breaths. Giyuu faced away while Shinobu returned her blade to its sheath with a click. Their hearts thumped and their ears rang with an echo of the explosion. Shinobu kept her Breaths in short puffs from her nose to calm down.

Giyuu, ever in perfect control of his Breath, spoke again. “Do you remember what we whispered to each other the night after Rengoku died?”

“I never whispered anything. I'm sure I screamed it.”

“’I don’t want anyone else to die.’”

Of course she remembered that night well. She felt like she’d regressed into a tantrum-throwing child as she wailed against her husband’s chest, her only safe place to let out all her anger in a world where she always tried to keep a cheerful face for her orphans. Giyuu was the one who said it first—it had been a whisper, in his case, barely loud enough to hear as his voice choked and cracked. She felt bad for taking out all her anger at him, when he looked and sounded so broken. Being unable to save anyone he loved was such a sore spot for him, and she…

…and now…

…now he knew.

“You weren’t supposed to know,” she said, facing the wall to keep him from looking at her. “I wanted to keep this a secret from you more than anyone. Anything to keep you from thinking it was your fault again.”

“That wouldn’t have worked, Kochou.”

“It wouldn’t have, would it? I really should have known better. You have such a knack for finding your own fault in anything. I thought not giving you anything to know might save you from that.”

“You thought I wouldn't care at all?”

“I thought you’d care. I just didn’t want you to care too much.”

“Did it ever strike you that I didn’t care? That I didn’t want a future with you?”

“No, not at all.”

“As it is, I was already…”

“…?”

Giyuu closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He was going to sound every bit as naive as she accused him of. “I should have asked you more. I knew something was wrong.”

“You knew I kept this secret from you?”

“I knew you kept something from me. Some distance. Now that I think back, you’ve been at this a while, haven’t you? Looking so unwell.”

She started turning to face him, and the room jostled when hit by a corpse sailing down past them. Hashira to their core, they maintained their balance.

“I hoped you wouldn’t notice,” she admitted.

“And all this time—these last weeks——I was blinded by my own hopes. I thought we were starting a family.”

Her heart sank as fast as the sound of a room or platform zooming by outside, and Shinobu’s lips parted with a gasp. “Oh, Giyuu-san…”

Even for feeling like his heart was cut open, Giyuu was composed. “It was foolish of me. It’s as you said. We never promised each other any of that.”

She had led him on, hadn’t she? Now that she considered what little she told him, there was no way he wouldn’t have thought that. In all her efforts to give his heart a shield of ignorance, she had given him glass that would shatter and cut him.

Giyuu kept speaking, even-keeled despite the pain he must have been in. “Knowing what I do now, it’s made me realize all this time… I hated what we had. I hated that promise to be Hashira first, and spouses only second.”

The worm of guilt sprang up and left Shinobu feeling choked. It was as everyone always warned her—even as her dear master Kagaya had always warned her. She had never factored Giyuu’s feelings into her decision because it was always too frightening to face the depth of them. His sadness, much less his love—

“I’ll remind you again, my promise is etched and won’t waver. I understand that we’re Hashira first and foremost. That’s all we’ll likely ever be now--we’re both likely to join Oyakata-sama tonight.”

“But if we don’t?” she replied with desperation she never knew lurked in heart.

“That would mean Kibutsuji Muzan is dead. Muzan, and the demon who killed your sister.” Now that he turned to face her, they met eyes from across the room. Shinobu swallowed hard under his glance as she listened. “If it’s then… then maybe we can start to dream about it then.”

Giyuu’s gaze was deep and blue, betraying only a trace of the depth of his heart. Still, Shinobu felt she was looking beyond them—straight through him. She asked, “Is it not alright to dream about it now?”

“Can we?”

A scream sailed by them. Blood splattered against the shoji screens. Knowing what awaited outside the doors of that deranged space, they saw the answer in each other’s hearts.

No. There wouldn’t likely be anything left of them to dream.

Giyuu set aside the happy delusion. Even if by some miracle they did survive, as Giyuu had somehow always been doomed to, there was an injury to their marriage--whatever it was that they had. “There are things we need to work out before either of has the heart to dream again. What should happen first is that we should talk more.”

“Right.”

“The both of us.”

Shinobu shuttered at his tone, and to distance herself from the sinking, swarming drop in her chest and stay ready to fight, she analyzed it as a psychosomatic symptom of shame. “Yes. That’s what spouses both do, isn’t it.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been anyone else’s spouse but yours. But for now,” he said, hating every word, “we act as Hashira, in whatever that will entail.”

“It’s like what you said to me back when I first joined you. No matter what happens, our resolve won’t waver. We are, precisely as titled, the pillars supporting the Demon Slayer Corp.”

“It’s because we know we have someone to protect that we can wield our swords and fight.”

This serious, resolute side of Giyuu was one that she loved and wanted to tell Kanae all about. It was so sweet and pure that it made her want to protect him too. “Well sai–”

WHOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHH—–

They both jumped out of the way of a door rushing between them, and an instant after that, the room split in half. Shinobu felt crushed from below as the floor rose at high speed. She rolled to her stomach, but then she caught sight of the floor beneath Giyuu’s feet disappearing.

“No!” she reached out.

“Shinobu!” he called out, his hand outstretched as gravity sucked him away, “Fight—”

Chapter Text

After repeated falls, Giyuu caught sight of Tanjirou’s haori. It seemed Tanjirou had been holding up fairly well on his own, but Giyuu saved him from a endless fall by catching him by the end of his clothes. That altered his course to throw him into a room with a loud thunk. Giyuu looked inside after after him and asked if he was alright.

"Yes! Thank you!" Tanjirou said back with formality, even in such a situation as this. "You saved me--Breath of Water, First Form--Water Surface Slash!"

"Tanjirou!"

That demon had attacked Tanjirou even faster than Giyuu could see it coming, and the door poured open with an oozing crowd of demons so misshapen that it was hard to tell which eye or foot belonged to which demon. With a glimpse of Tanjirou's stance and pace of his Breath, Giyuu could tell he was about to unleash the Sixth Form of Water Breath, so Giyuu chose his movements to work around him with the Third Form and cut the necks of the other demons Tanjirou's strike wouldn't reach.

"Whirlpool!"

"Flowing Dance."

That cleared the way. With no more time to waste here, Giyuu walked on. "Let's go."

"Yes!" Tanjirou called after him. "Which way?"

"To Ko-"

A rarity, Giyuu felt choked.

"Giyuu-san?"

By the tone in Tanjirou's voice, he must have smelled everything swarming in the pit of Giyuu's chest. Giyuu swallowed hard and said what he had to. "To Kibutsuji Muzan."

Once she encountered that demon in its lair of discarded women, Shinobu hated it more than she ever imagined she would. Every mocking word out its mouth colored her anger deeper and deeper shades.

It dared to say it brought happiness to its victims. To say they'd live on as a part of its flesh. To say how much it had wished to consume Kanae.

That was when Shinobu gave in to her desire to impale that scum. A poor judgement Kanae would have chided her for, since that left Shinobu directly in range of the demon's icy attack. That made sense of some of Kanae's injuries, and if she had more time, Kanae would have wanted to warn her.

Neesan, she addressed her in her mind as the demon taunted her with how it mastered her poison, how could you have felt any sympathy for this monster?

Why did Kanae have to waste all the last of her Breath on trivial words like that, and some fantasy she knew would never come true for Shinobu? Kanae knew her better than that. She knew Shinobu would never rest without taking down this demon first; she should have saved her words to warn her.

Not enough poison. Of course it wasn't enough poison for an Upper Moon. The utter monster.

‘Tanjirou-san refers to that man as a person,’ came recent words from Tamayo, floating into Shinobu's mind. In the month that they spent doing research together, Tamayo had many words Shinobu took deeply to heart:

‘This will increase the effectiveness of the poison, but it will require more time to take effect.’
‘We can apply the painless poison you developed to mask the effects, so the demon cells won’t recognize that there is poison to break down. We could even fool them into finding you especially nutritious, so they digest your cells faster.’
‘This will make up for what you lack in body weight. You’ve lost weight in all this time anyway. Please leave this to me and go ensure that you are in condition to fight.’
‘Your body is still mortal and human, Shinobu-san. In what time you have left, please take care of it.’

CRACK!!

“Wow! You are really fast! Maybe the fastest among all the Hashira I’ve met so far!”

I’m cut…!

The floor opened up. Giyuu and Tanjirou entered another fall, then were fed to another room filled with demons. After clearing the way, they went through the doors the demons had come from and sprinted down a hallway.

There was no navigating this space, though the crows made a good effort of it. As Giyuu looked up at the black bird soaring overhead, he squinted at the odd thing attached to it. A paper with red ink?

“KOCHOU SHINOBU!” it announced. “INSECT HASHIRA KOCHOU SHINOBU HAS ENCOUNTERED UPPER MOON TWO!”

A horrific noise blasted through fortress, tearing through all the physical structures above Giyuu. The world rumbled, and Giyuu tightened his grip on his sword—like a grip on her knuckles—with the gut knowledge he was about to make his own first encounter with an Upper Moon.

“You should have gone for my neck instead of using poison. At your speed, you might have been able to. Ah—nevermind, I suppose that’s impossible with how small you are.”

Her lifeblood poured out of her wound and onto her hands, spilling that precious poison she had worked so hard and for so long to develop. It was all that was in her power to do, with a body so small.

Why were her hands so small? Why couldn’t she have grown as tall as Kanae? Maybe if she had been just a little bit bigger, she might have been able to cut the heads off of demons—just a little more length in her arms, a little more length in her legs, any little bit would have resulted in more muscle to give her any tiny bit more of an advantage. Kanae was slender, but that extra height made all the difference. How nice it would have been to be bigger, to be as big as Himejima…

…how nice it would… have been…

Shinobu’s tears started dripping, though nowhere near as fast as her blood did.

In all those words Kanae wasted as she went through these same moments, she said all those details about this demon, as Shinobu pressed her for. But she couldn’t manage to finish saying, ‘you will likely lose to it.’ That was why she tried saying all that other stuff first… about Shinobu’s smile… and wishes for her… to know the joys of marriage and a long, normal family life…

And now… could Shinobu even face her to say she was right? Especially after so stupidly and cruelly ending that marriage here?

“Pull yourself together. There can be no crying right now.”

Neesan…

“Stand.”

I can’t stand up. I’ve lost too much blood. My left lung is cut. I can’t breathe.

“That is no excuse. Stand up, Insect Hashira Kochou Shinobu.”

Is that what it would sound like… to have Kanae recognize her as a Hashira…?

“If you’ve set your mind to defeating it, then defeat it. If you’ve decided to win, then win. Win no matter what you sacrifice. You promised me… and Kanao… and Tomioka-san, didn’t you?”

She only promised him… nothing would change…

“Oh, whoops, I’m sorry! I wasn’t very thorough with that cut so you must be suffering, aren’t you?”

“You can do it, Shinobu. Do your best.”

Nothing would change… because she was… first and foremost… a Hashira.

“Eh?” came the demon’s abhorrent voice. “You’re standing up? You can still stand up? Wow… are you sure you’re a human?”

She loathed that voice so much, as well as the face that went with it.

“That should have broken your collarbone and lung and some ribs, and for someone of your size, it wouldn’t be surprising for you to already be dead after losing that much blood.”

Blood that should be killing that awful demon!

She coughed and sweated but had no poison words to spew at the demon. If only there was some way to get the poison inside of it. She and Tamayo had accounted for a smaller amount being enough to work. Maybe not so small as those frivolous, fatal bites it'd taken of all those women, but they knew that mouthfuls might be their own chance. As long as she could get it close to the vital spot of its neck, passing down its throat as it ate her would do. Did it have no appetite after all those women it left dead all over this place? If only she could have gotten here sooner and let them get away with their lives. That awful demon kept prattling on and on so the ringing in her ears was a welcome distraction as she thought about what to do next.

What would Giyuu do? If the original plan to entice the demon to eat her wasn’t going to work, then he’d be flexible in finding a different approach. The Seventh Form of Water Breathing was a direct thrust, similar to an Insect Breath style. If the vital point would not come to her, then she had to deliver poison to that point. With all her remaining power focused in her legs like Tanjirou was able to do with inspiration from Thunder Breathing, she could make it. Her legs were small, but fast and still intact.

With Dance of the Centipede, she avoided the demon’s icy attack and confused it, leaving herself an opening. Kanae's haori was frozen and cut clean off the right side of her, but the demon’s attack did not reach the muscles of her right arm, where she put everything she had left of her strength after she did not need to run any longer.

Like she could spare strength for nothing else in that moment, she likewise could spare a thought to nothing but driving the point of her sword into the demon’s neck.

Upper Moon Three’s tattooed foot slammed with a kick; Giyuu caught it against the hilt of his sword, but the blow threw him up and backwards—CRASH!—through shoji screens, through tatami, through wood and wall.

Kochou…

While still waiting for his momentum to come to a stop, he could only plead.

Shinobu!! Hang on!

He had to scramble his way back to that battle, or Tanjirou was done for. If Giyuu left him now, he’d perish. Shinobu would understand why he couldn’t go to her side, they were Hashira, this was what they had to do. Defeating Kibutsuji Muzan was what they all had to do, every last one of the Corp members to every last of their Breaths.

As he kicked and sprinted his way back to spy Tanjirou scraping by and taking every shot and opening he could, Giyuu’s temperature rose, and his heart pounded harder and harder.

He squeezed his sword, his promise.

CRASH!!!

The ceiling rattled with the sound of Shinobu’s sword puncturing it, and the demon’s body slamming against it. Once she hit her mark, her mind found the space the wander, to find inexplicable distractions now that it had little more purpose to serve.

How fragile happiness was, like those shattered ceiling tiles.

It was on top of shattered fragments that she and Kanae exchanged the promise that would determine who they would become, a moment more impactful than the shatter itself.

‘Let’s defeat demons, the two of us. Let’s not let others go through what we have. Even one more demon slayed is some dozen others saved.’

The fifty demons Shinobu slayed to become a Hashira had saved lives she’d never know. If only she could defeat this Upper Moon, it may have been hundreds spared. It was never a question of how she’d keep that promise to Kanae, only that she must.

‘Our mission comes before all else, even each other. This I promise to you.’

So many promises she had made in this short life…

‘The same thing etched on my sword is already etched on my heart.’

So many promises she held Giyuu to as well, despite her flippant regard for how deeply he meant them. Like her sword slipping out of the demon’s skin as gravity took her, the tears started to seep out of her eyes. The sinking feeling was either her fall, her blood pressure, or some psychosomatic symptom.

And after all that, the demon was not dead.

How infuriating.

Everything was so… infuriating.

Her pulse picked up pace. A paltry effort to try to move what blood was left around her ailing body. No matter how fast it went, it was nothing compared to how quickly that stupid, stupid demon mastered the dose of poison she had hit it square in the neck with, and how repulsively it smiled. Shinobu wanted to see this demon that killed her sister down in hell with all those demons that killed her parents, her Tsuguko, the girls’ families, Giyuu’s sister and his best friend…

She didn’t even have anything to leave to Giyuu now. By the look on that demon’s face, it had caught a whiff of her blood and found it tantalizing, as Tamayo had designed it. Good thing Shinobu had worked with a demon when she had the chance, or she never would have thought to mask the telltale scent.

‘You smell like wisteria—’

Oh, but the thought of letting anyone but Giyuu touch her body enraged her.

Upper Moon Two pulled her back and into a tight embrace, its arms folded over her as though in tenderness. “I’m so proud of you! You worked so hard! I’m so moved!!”

Don’t touch me…

“To think, a girl this frail could accomplish this much! Even without your sister’s talent, you came so far in hunting demons. It’s a miracle you’ve survived this long. That foolishness to have gotten so far in what was always futile—that is the vanity of humanity, as well as what makes humanity so amazing.”

Don’t touch me…!!

The demon's bloodstained hair nestled against her as it put its mouth over her injury and greedily drank. Her body was all over its face as it paused for a sweet breath to savor it, making it evident how successful Tamayo’s contributions were. “You are suitable for me to eat. Let’s live on together into eternity.”

She winced as it went back for more, licking her bone before puncturing her flesh with teeth. The demon was so eager to eat her that even as it paused again to annoy her with more words, its flesh was opening up to draw her in, disassembling her cells to make them a part of itself. This was the plan. This was at the plan all along, it burned, and yet—

“Any last words?”

That body didn’t belong to the demon. It was hers, however human and mortal.

She didn’t belong to that demon. She belonged to her family—to the sisters she had adopted, to the Corp she supported, and to her husband, whom she had already hurt by choosing futility. He was never supposed to find out, though. He was never supposed to have the chance to feel hurt by her choice, he was only supposed to go on being a Hashira like he always promised he would, even if he was so prone to wavering in that promise.

Oh, Giyuu-san...

What if he doubted her promises now, with how badly she hurt him? What if he was left doubting any and all her love? What flesh she still had left was hot with rage that she could not set things right. She was going to leave Giyuu so sad, with no one to support him the way she could.

It was so infuriating. She wanted to see Giyuu again, to soothe his heart however much it would pain them both—

Her heart thumped even more rapidly as more and more of the flesh above it disappeared into the demon. Maybe even two hundred beats per minute—

“If you have any last words, I’ll listen.”

She could curse that demon to hell, or she could send it there.

With a burst of strength she shouldn’t still have, Shinobu stabbed her Nichirin blade from the under the demon’s ribs straight out its eye. Maybe it didn’t have any more poison, but it did have sunlight. That surprised the demon, and she pulled with another burst of strength to rip the blade out straight forward and twist herself out of the its grasp. In the cavity her flesh left behind, she left only a burning cloud of heat that confused its open, hungry cells.

 “Huh?”

When the demon looked down, Shinobu had already landed on her feet on the bridge. Something she should not have been steady enough for. In a moment like that, Shinobu was grateful not to have too much weight to balance.

First things first. She needed to close the wound to her lung. After watching a Tsuguko die of a punctured lung, Shinobu had thought over and over of how Breath could be used to seal off the wound as a temporary measure. She had the image training for this. She could use Breath from the right lung to gather the air and use her newfound clarity of mind to find the breakage and give it temporary repair. Kanae's wounds had always been peculiar, with some stopped from a normal progression that open wounds should follow. The Blood Technique of this demon was peculiar and the ice must had hit Kanae's wound and caused them to do that. The ice particles in the air could work as a plug to the wound while Shinobu's cells rushed in for repair, as fast as they were working to repair the breakages to her blood vessels. It was unnaturally fast, on par with a demon’s regeneration. She understand the mechanisms better now from this past month of research.

A door opened, and a voice screamed louder than it had ever been used before. “SHIHAN!!”

Shinobu motioned to Kanao not to Breathe, so that her lungs would not be damaged by the icy air. Kanao was at full strength, and always had the capability to fight with the power of the sun. This was Kanao’s battle now, and what Shinobu needed to do was buy time for the poison to work. Tamayo had succeeded in making it more tantalizing, so the measures she took to make a small amount more potent would likely work as well. What Shinobu needed to prioritize now was surviving and buying as much time as she could to keep Kanao in good condition for when Kanao would have her chance.

That meant sparing no words. If Shinobu Breathed to draw the ice particles in the air to her lung, she could use them to seal the hole. It would take time, but Kanao, the excellent Tsuguko that she was, was ready to buy this time. She aimed her sword, but what she had sharpened all this time was her tongue.

Exactly as Shinobu had planned, knowing how much this demon loved to gab. Her heart rate was still rapid, and the blood loss made it hard to hear much over the ringing in her ears, but her vision felt as sharp as though everything slowed down around her—painfully slow, since there was no sign yet of the poison’s effects. In exchange for potency, there still wouldn’t be visible effects for a while still.

But Kanao would manage it. She was already managing with while exchanging blows with the demon, and skillfully using the evasion techniques of Flower Breathing to keep her own injuries light. It wasn’t a matter of if or how, simply that she had to.

Kanae had to but failed. They could not fail again.

It was not the dose of poison Shinobu planned, though. Hardly a fraction of it, though her calculations were based on the poison she developed without help. With Tamayo’s additions, that would compensate for some of the difference, but if there could be more sunlight—another Nichirin blade in addition to Kanao’s—and whatever sunlight was in Shinobu’s unusually light blade—oh, what Shinobu wouldn’t give for two more swordsmen and their Nichirin blades to show up—

Even with her ears ringing, the sound of the next crash was unmistakable.

“INOSUKE-SAMA HAS ARRIVED!!”

If Giyuu perished here, Tanjirou was sure to perish too.

In any space Giyuu’s mind had to spare, he acknowledged Shinobu’s promises. That one to him about being Hashira first, that one to her sister to avenge her, and every promise to eliminate demons. This would be the night Shinobu fulfilled them all.

The ongoing battle against Upper Moon Three left Giyuu no freedom to be saddened, nor to be angry. But he absolutely was not numb.

“Seems you’ve already used every last Water Breathing form!” the demon shouted at him.

The fight took every shred of his focus to protect Tanjirou, let alone himself.

“You’ve done enough, Giyuu. Let’s end this here.”

In what pockets of focus Giyuu could spare for her, knowing it would do nothing, Giyuu could only take pride in what an outstanding Hashira he had for a wife.

“You did well to last this long!”

TANG!!

Giyuu’s sword snapped and broke with a flick of the demon’s fist.

Shinobu’s ears buzzed with blood loss and thumped in tune with her heart beat. She could make out only bits and pieces of what was being said, but it was enough that words were being said at all.

Inosuke could only have been described as a godsend, if not a god of the forest himself. Aside from the extra raw strength and additional Nichirin blades he added to the fight, Inosuke had an uncanny connection with this demon that made him deserve revenge long before any of Shinobu and Kanae’s happiness had been shattered. With that connection, the gods really must have sent him, for Inosuke’s history kept that demon chatting and chatting and talking and talking.

This was buying them every precious moment both for the poison to fool the demon’s cells and swarm it with effect, and for Shinobu to repair her own body. The lung was heavy with blood and could be punctured anew by her broken bones with any wrong movement, and her skin and muscles ached, stretched, and burned with how much of them had been digested. But her right side still worked, and her legs had not taken any damage.

There were blows exchanged. Kanao and Inosuke both had the senses and abilities to avoid being hit by the ice, unlike how Shinobu had started this whole battle by stupidly throwing herself into it. Now, she leaned into it.

It threw her with a thump to sit on the wooden boards. As Inosuke got a hit on the demon, he yelled something to Shinobu to watch him, and about how her special training for him made him think of unusual new techniques. She could take no credit, he was always creative. She could not see straight to make any sense of whatever Inosuke was doing to change the tides of this battle. Any time he and Kanao paused to exchange words with that demon, Kanao kept a hand on Shinobu’s shoulder to keep her from toppling over, so Shinobu could dedicate all her strength to preparing herself.

She couldn’t save this strength for another day to come. She had to be able to get in another blow, here, in this battle.

Tomioka-san, please survive.

When the chatter ended and the demon burst back to violence, Shinobu had to leave every other choice to her juniors. She had to give them the chance.

Please, forgive me and survive!

She wouldn’t be around much longer to give Kanao and Inosuke any guidance. They knew what they were doing, and she knew what she had to do. While the two of them preserved their strength by avoiding the ice coming at them in the form of monsters both gargantuan and small, Shinobu was the one who could afford not to spare any effort on defense.

One more… Total Concentration Breath.

“Hrrraaaaaaahhh!” she screamed as she shot through the air for one last thrust. The demon sliced her thighs, but she accounted for that, and her shot made its mark through its neck again. The demon stumbled backwards, covered in the blood that gushed out and rained when her legs were slashed across in the air, whereas Shinobu fell flat on her back. More and more of her uniform was wet and heavy from the spreading pool she lied in.

The demon coughed and struggled until it pulled her sword out of its neck, and then it stuck it in the wood of the bridge as it stumbled. “What’s this? It didn’t… didn’t even have any poison this time… you might have even gotten me if it did,” it said. “It’s so remarkable how you just… don’t… die.”

Air made a foggy noise down her throat with every labored Breath. So much for the seals she had managed on her wounds, now that she had fresh new places to bleed. She clenched every muscle she could all the way down to her feet, but each fiber was losing strength.

 “Like a… cockroach. Is that part of what your Insect Breath does?”

The bridge creaked and shifted under her ears, and soon that abhorrent smile loomed above her again. An icy palm touched her exposed thigh.

“Ah, I see now. Look at this butterfly, it’s almost like a tattoo.”

Don’t… touch me…

“I can’t imagine you’re a criminal, so it must be like what those other Hashira had too, isn’t it? Why, just now, poor Akaza-dono was defeated by someone who had this. That Water Hashira who could barely stand up with how much blood he lost. Had a ripple looking thing that appeared on his cheek like this,” Upper Moon Two said, pointing to its own face. Shinobu’s vision went dark as the demon raised its other hand to lick her fresh blood off its clawed fingers. “Well, not that it was ever going to amount to anything in your case.”

The demon’s smile widened, but its eyes drooped. One eyeball teetered on the edge of plopping out and down to her chest. Shinobu saw no more.

Chapter Text

For all those times he had survived, Murata was confident in his way of life. He wasn’t in the Demon Slayer Corp for the glory, or the salary, or the thrill of a fight. If any one more demon could be brought down by his efforts, and if any one more life could be saved, then that was a life worth living.

Sometimes, that meant putting down his sword.

“Please—Murata, carry her—”

The Insect Hashira looked terrifying in a way that no human should. Her features were more rightfully animated by a poison smile and glinting eyes, and her fluttering movement should have been punctuated by a light and singsong voice. Bloody and limp was not a look any living being should have, and that feeling never went away no matter how many times Murata had seen it.

Tsuyuri, Boar Head, and Agatsuma were all better than that by a long shot, which was good, knowing how strong and talented and special they all were and how much longer this night was still going to drag on. Agatsuma put up no arguments about being left on his own feet with Boar Head for support, and Boar Head was quiet and still as he tearfully watched Murata assess the Insect Hashira’s condition and redo some of the hasty bandaging. Tsuyuri followed each one of Murata's instructions. He then scooped the Insect Hashira up—an easy task compared to how long he had a bulky guy like Agatsuma on his back—and they all kept running in the direction the crow led them.

Murata wasn’t as fast as them, though, even without his arms full. A floor opened beneath him—

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaa—”

“Take care of her!” Tsuyuri shouted down after him, and then was soon far out of sight.

An easy task, sure. Here, Murata, chop off the head off that demon over there. Say, Murata, can you keep your comrades from killing each other a while, please? Thanks. Hey, Murata, hey, come do each amazing feat that the rest of us make look so easy! Well, good for everyone else, Murata had scraped his way through for years and used unceasing effort to earn every success he ever had. This would be no different.

“Hnnnghh!”

He stuck his feet out to kick against a wall and change direction, so his back hit a wall. The notches of his spine bobbed against every protruding wood panel, but it slowed his momentum enough that he could get in position for the door that slid closed below him. Demon Blood Technique or not, those doors were just thin screens and his heels were going to blast through them as easily as Boar Head going through any old glass window.

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH-CRASH-CRASH!!

Thanks to the series of thin screens slowing his fall, he stuck the landing on a harder surface. No one was there to see, and woman whom he shielded in his arms did not stir at the sound of his shriek from the pain that shot through his bones, but it was a pretty impressive feat if Murata did say so himself. Immediately after, he felt the contents of his stomach surge to his throat.

That stench!

He kept his bodily fluids to himself and he knew was he was smelling before he looked around. He had to do that much. He owed it to the victims to see if anyone had last moments, or faces he recognized. Though he knew what to expect before opening his eyes, he did not expect so much of it.

There were body parts and torn Corp uniforms everywhere, in directions that did not make sense. The blood splatters went in every conceivable direction, and it was not worth pressing his ears in the silence to see if any still had Breath or last words.

If there was one message clear, it was that every sword was still firmly in a hand. Murata gave them a solemn nod, then ran in the direction where there was light ahead—and the sounds of whipping, and crashing—

“Don’t get too close to him! Muzan’s power is far beyond that of any Upper Moon!”

—and Tomioka’s voice!

Planks of wood came shooting in Murata’s direction, so he hid behind a wall. There was then the twanging of something like a biwa, and as Murata peeked back around the edge, the scenery changed with every plunking sound. He caught sight of Tomioka—that haori was recognizable from any distance—who was getting beaten backwards with every attack he defended himself against. Whatever that attack was, it was too fast for Murata to make out anything about it. He stole a look down to Shinobu—near white, but still Breathing—freaking Hashira being able to do that even in this state!—and then looked back up to Tomioka. He had gotten closer, and from far off, there were echoes of slamming doors.

Since Tomioka was in battle, he probably didn’t notice it, but from where Murata watched, he could. There was a pattern to the doors slamming, and the echoes were getting closer. Tomioka was still moving backwards. As long as Tomioka defended himself against four more seconds of attacks…

Three…

Two…

Now!!

Murata sprinted forward with a Total Concentration Breath. If he was ever going to be grateful for any of that running the former Sound Hashira put him through, this was it. A door slammed right in front of Tomioka, and Murata made it through the next slamming doors right before his foot might be chopped off by it. For all his focus on the battle and surprise at the change of scenery, Tomioka didn’t even notice him there and was already clawing at the doors to try to get back through.

“T—Tomioka!”

The Water Hashira spun around, stunned to hear anyone there, and his face blanched at the sight of his wife. “Kochou!” he shouted, and at the same instant, his knees banged on the floor so that he could see her closely. He was too sweaty and exhausted to have been able to make much sense of her condition.

“She’s alive. For the most part,” Murata told him. “But she’s in bad shape—”

It was clunky with Murata there and Tomioka having a broken sword in one hand, but Tomioka wrapped what he could of his arms around her and pressed his head against hers. His face squeezed tight with whatever was going through his head. All Murata could tell was that this was the face of a man who never thought he’d see any piece of his wife again at all. And, seeing how that night was going so far, that was reasonable.

Just as quickly, Tomioka was back up on his feet, and facing the doors as echoes and slashing grew closer again. “You have to get out of here. Please take care of her.”

“Right—”

Murata ducked behind the relative safety of a wall the instant the door flew open, and Tomioka burst back out into the battle.

Murata didn’t see much more of him until maybe ten, or twenty, or thirty minutes later. It was hard to tell with all that racket and chaos, and all that happened in between. At some point, everything plunged backwards—or upwards—and the insane fortress crashed to stillness in the night, night, nighttime air. Murata reminded himself how much he hated winter and how long the nights were out in the cold, but the Insect Hashira’s body was still feverish and alive. He sprung to his feet and got running to get her to safety.

“Hey! Hey, Murata, over here!”

A Kakushi flagged him down, and Murata dashed around the side of a building. The Kakushi got reach of his arm and pulled him aside with even more momentum.

“You good? Any injuries?”

“Only scrapes—”

“I’ll take that one from you—oh—oh, gods, not Kochou-sama. What about Kanao-chan? Have you seen her?”

“Still at it, last I saw. I’m going back out there.”

Murata followed the sounds of battle and went back around the piles of wreckage, panting and fearful shaking be damned. He had always been confident in his way of life. He was not there for the glory, or any recognition. He knew his contributions to battle wouldn’t amount to much, but they would amount to something in the end.

When he got around the next building, Murata got his first eyeful of Kibutsuji Muzan, his sworn enemy. He felt a rush of all the years coming back at him at once, and his body shook with rage. 

That’s him… that’s Muzan… it’s because of that demon that my family is dead. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him!!

“MURATAAAA!”

He was startled at hearing his name so loud—it came from Tomioka, who he didn’t know could even could raise his voice that loud.

“Tanjirou can’t move! Get him to somewhere safe and treat him!! Please!”

Now Kamado too? This night was never going to freaking end! Murata found him right away—that haori was also unmistakable—and he was just as unrightfully limp as the Insect Hashira was, but looking far, far worse. Murata got Kamado up on his shoulders and carried him off to go do his best. Murata had to be the best at this by now, probably having carried the injured off it more times than anyone else ever since he climbed up that wisteria covered mountain all those years ago to enter this Corp.

You actually remembered my name, didn’t you, Tomioka? We were in that same batch together, after all!

But Tomioka, running off to keep fighting, after begging someone else to protect your injured loved one left behind… isn’t that just too similar?

Chapter Text

“What’s with that frowny face, Giyuu? It would make me so much happier to see you smile.”

He couldn’t help but frown. It felt heavy on his cheeks, and his eyes felt too weighed to look up at Tsutako. He sniffled, since he couldn’t think of what to say.

Tsutako was forgiving of that, but not one to spoil him—too much, anyway. “If it will make you feel better, I’m already happy anyway.”

“Are you?”

“Very happy. I’m getting married, after all.”

“You don’t need to,” he said, wiping away a tear. “You can be happy without doing that.”

“You’re right. But why not? In some ways, nothing would change. You’ve always been precious to me, Giyuu. And you always will be.”

“Then why can’t you just stay here?”

“Hmm. You don’t remember Mama and Papa very well, do you? And the way they looked at each other, and spoke to each other? A few words was all they ever needed. I have someone now who will know me and fulfill me more deeply than any friend or family could.”

Don’t go, he pleaded, don’t go, don’t go. “But what if your heart gets too full?”

“Well,” she said, tenderly taking his right hand, “then I suppose I’d have to let go.”

“Tsutako-nee—”

Giyuu woke with a start. He looked wide-eyed at where he thought she was, only to find she was not there. The sleeve of her kimono had been cut.

A more guttural scream came out of him than he had ever feel rattle his bones, not even when he discovered her death. It took another moment or two of confusion to realize that the screaming was for himself.

That was his very limb, severed and never coming back.

Every moment that followed was confusing, more and more than all the last. What kind of enemy was this, that every second of battle came with some new shock and horror? How was he still alive after all this? All he could make sense of was that if he was alive, it was because he had to keep moving—whatever it felt like—whatever it all felt like, whatever this all even was.

Only bits and pieces made sense as his mind swirled with whatever blood he had left in his brain, but the pieces were all he had to focus on—there was Tanjirou, and Tanjirou was losing his grip on his sword. Giyuu had to be his grip. It was red, but—

—my grip!!—

“Tanjirou!!”

—Tanjirou held strong, but disappeared into—and then the sun, but—and then Muzan should have been dead, but—even after sunrise, there was never any end to it.

There was so much screaming.

Everyone, every last soul was fighting. Someone already dead left their sword to Giyuu, Giyuu put it to use. One-handed, the Tenth Form of Water Breath was too shallow. Shinazugawa came in to cover for him, and then Iguro, and Himejima’s chains, and screaming, and then one more blast of sunshine, and in the light—

a—at last—

What… what thoughts Giyuu could even string together, they were disjointed. Which way was up and which way was forward, where was Tsutako? Tsutako hadn’t really been there, had she? Was that a memory? But it felt like she was an apparition, some visitation.

Had Tsutako come to claim him? To take him by the hand, to guide him with her, to go home? In all that pain, Giyuu was desperate to go home. He was desperate to see her again, to share a meal with her, be tucked in to futon laid side by side. But Tsutako left him. Tsutako left him, like she had all those years ago.

“Tomioka-san—hang on!”

“He’s falling—”

Giyuu found himself in a vast, fuzzy expanse. There was someone’s silhouette on the horizon.

Shinobu?

No, that girl was too tall. She wore a bow, not a butterfly. It was Tsutako. Giyuu was still alive—somehow. Tsutako was out there on the brink.

Waiting…

She wouldn’t have to wait long for him, would she? After all, Giyuu had attained the mark. He’d leave Shinobu there, sitting on the veranda in the sunshine, laughing and cooing to the bundle in her arms…

“Tomioka-san? Are you awake?”

That was a Kakushi’s voice thundering in his ear. Giyuu looked around to try to see where the Kakushi holding him up was, but all he spotted was a stripped haori, lots and lots of blood, pink hair, a white snake… It was Kanroji. Kanroji, and Iguro. Iguro’s snake, Kaburamaru. Only the crying snake was moving.

Kanroji had been right. Attaining the mark was exactly as she said. Giyuu’s cells had only been pushed over the edge of dying or not when he knew in his gut that he’d take Tanjirou with him if he perished there.

Kanroji had been right. She’d never get married.

Tsutako never did either. Tsutako didn’t know marriage like Giyuu did. If Tsutako had visited him but didn’t take him home, it was like she came to warn him, but of what?

What was it that he needed to let go of?

It was that happy vision… of Shinobu… it was Shinobu, wasn’t it!

Tsu… Tsutako-neesan… I know… what you mean… now…

“Tomioka-san, don’t try to get up—”

but… marriage… marriage isn’t all you think it is. It’s lonely. It’s someone keeping themself from you, when you thought they’d be there to fulfill you.

“The Water Hashira is alive?”

“Please, don’t try to walk—”

I’ve never had more happiness than I could carry. After you were gone, I never had happiness to carry anyway. Everything changed when you were gone. I thought I could hold on to Sabito, but I couldn't keep my grip on him either.

At first, I didn't feel I could hold her for myself. I only wanted to support her. She was the Hashira I wished I could be. I knew what that meant for her. But despite the risks, I did think like you. I did want the same things. I did reach out to try to grasp that. I did think…I did think I would be happy, and fulfilled… I felt that way only yesterday until it was ripped away from me.

And what can I even carry anymore!!

He thought back to Shinobu’s tiny hands, and her words about the broken wings overflowing from them. She had called Giyuu out on being unable to carry much more than the two wings of his haori.

This hand… can’t even hold anything… not anymore…!!

“Tomioka-san! Tomioka-san, please!”

“Stay still, we’re begging you!”

I don’t want to let go of anything more. Please, let me have my grip back. Please, don’t tell me to let go—

He couldn’t stay still, his body was still alive and that meant it had to keep moving, despite all the pain. He still had things to do. There were still people he had to try to save.

Where was Shinobu?

“Tomioka-san!”

“Don’t let him—”

Where was Shinobu? He couldn’t let go yet!
Had she gotten out of the fortress?
She was with Murata. Murata had gotten out, he saved Tanjirou—

Tanjirou!! Gods, there was no end to it. Tanjirou kept his grip and got swallowed into Muzan’s flesh right before Giyuu’s eyes. “Where’s Tanjirou? Is Tanjirou alright?”

“Just… just, please, let us treat you—”

Once again, again and again, the thoughts of anything or anyone else were too much to find space for, being a Hashira meant he had to let go. He still couldn't spare a thought for her.

‘Giyuu, remember. You are the Water Hashira first and foremost,’ Urokodaki’s voice came to mind, ‘A pillar that supports the Demon Slayer Corp cannot be unstable. Even as your comrades fall around you, you must not be swayed by regret.’

The world went on being cruel, and Giyuu went on being a Hashira, doing what he must.

Chapter Text

If only she had decided to help in the hospital before.

In all those years, Kanao had wasted so many hours sitting and staring into the sun. A wonder it hadn’t damaged her eyes, but little difference that made now. If only she had spent those hours busy in the hospital instead. Maybe that way she would have learned what to do for the injured, and she might not be so clueless about what she could do now. Everyone was rushing around and doing their best to help those still clinging to life, and Kanao was idle.

She didn’t know what to do, but when her heart told her she had to do something, Aoi spoke louder. “You shouldn’t be moving around yet,” she said, placing her hands on Kanao's shoulders and guiding her backwards to sit back down in bed. “I don’t want your injuries opening up.”

“They’re not that deep.”

“You only say that because that one didn’t reach your heart. You got so lucky.”

“It wasn’t luck. It was what I learned from watching Kanae-neesan.”

“Well… I’m just glad you’re still with us.”

Many other people still alive were bedridden. With how much of a racket they made from their beds, it was easy to confuse Zenitsu and Inosuke’s wakefulness for being up on their feet, but their bodies were still in shreds and they weren’t going anywhere. Even Shinazugawa showed stubborn signs of wakefulness, though he was still completely out. By Nezuko’s account, Tanjirou seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

Shinobu and Giyuu, however, were in poor states. They both teetered on the edge of recovery or death. From what Kanao heard about Giyuu, he might spend the rest of his life without waking, and from what she could see of Shinobu on the hospital bed next to her own when she squinted and moved her head around to make up for the blank areas in her vision, Shinobu seemed too frail to expend any strength on healing.

Aoi stood at the other side of Shinobu’s bed. “They both got the marks, I heard. I know what that means for them. It could come any time before they turn 25, if it’s a matter of sapping the strength right out of them.”

No—it made them strong, Kanao wanted to retort, but she couldn’t find the words.

“It didn’t. It gave them strength,” said Yushirou, who entered the room so suddenly that Aoi yelped, and Kanao flinched at the sound of her own thoughts spoken in someone else’s voice. Yushirou gave them a sharp look for these reactions. “What, a demon like Nezuko blabbering is fine, but any other demon talking is not?”

“I-I’m fine. You just startled me.”

“Thank you,” Kanao said to him, “Your medicines have helped a lot.”

“They were Tamayo-sama’s. Not mine,” he replied. Yushirou approached Shinobu’s bed and looked over the injuries that Aoi was in the middle of dressing. The flesh was mangled and gruesome where it had been partially digested, but the wounds were haphazardly closed and stiffly scarred over. “Disgusting,” he remarked, but by the wince he made, it seemed he thought the better of it. “Having closed at all means she had healing on par with some levels of demons, even if it wasn’t done as neatly. The Demon Slayer mark does a lot more for injuries than medicine can, doesn’t it?”

“When Kanroji-sama and Tokitou-sama were treated before, Shinobu-sama did say that their healing was unnaturally fast, despite their fevers. Maybe because of that, I suppose. But now they’re not… they’re not here anymore to ask.”

“I’m going to guess those were other Hashira. I didn’t bother learning names.”

“Do you think,” Kanao ventured, the voice breaking out of her throat but hesitant in what words it should choose, “that they can go back to normal?”

Yushirou grimaced at her. “I don’t know what kind of ‘normal’ you expect. Maybe if Tamayo-sama were still around, she’d have been able to find a way to help. I’m not able to do anything without her. …I’m sorry.”

When she heard how his voice sank, Kanao’s hand itched for her coin as she wondered whether or not she should offer the demon any words of support, or even a hug. Probably not a hug, she decided. There was a lot to figure out on her own now while her master—her sister—needed help. “Neesan is a doctor… I’m sure she’ll figure out something...”

“Don’t count on me for anything. I’m out of here as soon as Tanjirou wakes up. I too, I… I’ve got my own life to go keep living.”

Yushirou left the room as swiftly as he had appeared in it. That left only the soft sounds of Aoi tying off bandages and shifting the sheets as she tucked Shinobu back in. Aside from bandages, monitoring her injuries, and keeping her clean and filled with nutritious fluids, what more could be done for Shinobu now? What could Kanao decide?

“Suppose we…”

“Yes?”

“Suppose we… let Neesan and Giyuu-san sleep side by side?”

With the help of some Kakushi, they moved Giyuu into that room. Nezuko was a little sad to see him go.

For the past month, Giyuu had been on the bed next to Tanjirou’s, and Nezuko sat between them to hold both their hands. This was despite Aoi’s warnings that Nezuko should not upset her own injuries, but such warnings were hardly heeded. Once the hand that held Giyuu’s was freed up, Nezuko turned her attention to repairing whatever scraps of stained and tattered haori she could get hold of. Kanao knew Nezuko’s hand had to have still hurt, but Nezuko could tolerate pain better than she could tolerate idleness.

With patients like Zenitsu and Inosuke stuck in bed and needing so much medical attention, Nezuko was a welcome help to have around the Butterfly Mansion—especially in her full human capacity. Before becoming a demon, Nezuko had been used to nursing the sick and injured ever since she was very small.

You do so much, Kanao wanted to say, but when it felt stuck, Kiyo stole the words she wanted: “Thank you, Nezuko-san! You’re so good at this.”

“My father was often sick in bed,” Nezuko said while performing menial tasks around the hospital, from cleaning up to spoon-feeding. “If someone caught a cold, it swept through the whole house. Little kids always find a way to get bumped or find splinters, and Oniichan used to burn himself in the charcoal pit all the time until he got better at it.”

It was astounding how Nezuko could talk and move at the same time, with no wasted movement. She was effective and gentle, and helped the wakeful patients pass the time with pleasant conversation. Even though Shinobu was a doctor and was always nice, she never had the time to spend at people’s bedsides like this. Even now that Kanao did, she did not think her dismal conversation skills would be of much use.

Shinobu was sure to be mad at her for the time Kanao did put her voice to good use. Kanao shuttered as she imagined what was coming, assuming it was coming. It might not, if Shinobu never recovered enough to wake up.

What Kanao could do now was sit quietly and hold Shinobu’s hand and watch over her and Giyuu. Not that she could watch very closely. The dark strained Kanao’s eyes, so she didn’t have much more to go by than the sound of wheezy Breath and the feel of Shinobu’s limp fingers. Kanao quietly spent the hours counting the beats of Shinobu’s pulse. It seemed fast, but Kanao didn't know.

Sitting quietly made Kanao dwell on how different she and Nezuko were. Nezuko didn’t have the expertise that Shinobu did, but Nezuko was always doing something. She was creative and industrious and had always been like that when taking care of her little brothers and sister.

Kanao did nothing.

Maybe if she had, had raised her voice, or fought back… her brothers wouldn’t had been stiff and cold by morning?

Kanao didn’t know Breath technique back then, though. She’d have been powerless. All she could do was keep herself from being hit in a bad spot. Even now, knowing something so powerful as Breath technique, she was still powerless to help anyone.

It was tempting to let hopelessness snap the feelings right out of her, but the voice in Kanao’s heart screamed at her to hang on, for there had to be more that she could do.

“Mn.”

There was a light squeeze at Kanao’s fingers.

“Neesan!”

“Mnn.”

“Neesan? Are you awake? You’re alive.”

“…am I…”

Words!

“Yes!” Kanao stood over her to get a better look at her face, and so that Shinobu could hear her whispers. “It’s been over six weeks since the battle. Muzan is gone! There are no more demons. Aside from Yushirou-san. The others are all gone.”

Shinobu’s voice was as soft as the buzz of a honeybee. “…is that so…”

“Nezuko-chan is human now. Your medicines worked. They all worked, even for Tanjirou—the extra medicine you made worked too.”

“…hm…”

“We won. It’s all alright now.”

“…what happened… to Himejima… san? …He must have… got a mark…”

Kanao shrank back. Her throat was tight, and the words had to fight their way through. “He only lasted until morning.”

Shinobu’s hazy eyes were wet, but her tears were too light to fall. “Who else?”

She swallowed hard. “Oyakata-sama… Kanroji-san…”

Shinobu’s expression was more exhausted than anything, but the thin tears washed over the specks of light glinting in her eyes. “Is that so…”

“…Genya… Tokitou-san… Iguro-san… many… many swordsmen… I don’t know all their names, even though we trained together.”

A tear finally rolled out the corner of Shinobu's eye. “…is that so…”

“Yes.”

Consciousness still seemed evasive, and Shinobu stared off to the ceiling. It looked like she might have tried to cry more than the one escaped teardrop, or that she was having difficulty in doing so. Or difficulty breathing—

“Neesan! Sit up. I’ll help. Your lung… your lung was cut.”

As she changed positions, Shinobu couldn’t suppress the urge to cough. Being so close to its edge, she’d likely have fallen out of the hospital bed if Kanao wasn’t there to support her. She had gotten so thin; it was like the mark wouldn’t have more than five or six years to take out of her anyway. When Shinobu caught her Breath again—some shallow version of it—she steadied herself and put her hand against Kanao’s.

Shinobu’s silvery eyes then shot wide. “Tomioka-san. What about—”

“He’s next to you.”

Shinobu’s glance darted to her right, and she was stunned at the sight of Giyuu’s pale face so close. She didn't try to speak any words.

Kanao worried that this sight might upset her, so she helped Shinobu to lie back against the pillows. “Tomioka-san has been asleep. He lost his right arm. Shinazugawa-san woke up for a little while yesterday. He lost a couple of fingers. Tanjirou’s eye and arm might not work. You haven’t lost anything but flesh. We saved your legs.”

“Upper Moon Two was defeated?”

“Yes! Yes, of course it was. I did it.” Kanao held her sister’s hand tighter, though Shinobu’s gaze was still on Giyuu. “I took its head and avenged Kanae-neesan. Inosuke avenged his mother—his swords pushed mine the rest of the way through its neck. The poison worked. There are no more demons. There’s no more need to study any poisons.”

“Then it was Nichirin blades in the end…” her voice faded, “…and Kibutsuji Muzan?”

“It was the sun… but the poison you made helped. We wouldn’t have lasted without it. You fought him too, Neesan. All these years of research you did meant you fought him too.”

“Tamayo-san’s medicine…”

“And Tanjirou—you saved Tanjirou.”

“I should move to my room,” she whispered. “All this talk… we may be disturbing Tomioka-san.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s leave him be. I can recover on my own.”

Maybe Kanao made the wrong decision by moving them to the same bed together?

Maybe she made the wrong decision in breaking Shinobu’s trust to tell Giyuu about the plan to kill Upper Moon Two.

Making decisions was scary, if it meant one could be wrong. Kanao wished Tanjirou would hurry and wake up so she could complain to him about that, since he was the one who propelled her into living like this, doomed to listen to the unsure voice of her heart, a heart full of taunt strings that she desperately tried to keep from breaking. The more idle she was, the more she felt she’d snap.

At the very least, she made sure to go tell Gotou that Shinobu was awake. She’d learned that lesson, even if all she could manage was to whisper the news. Gotou didn’t yell this time; he only gave her shoulder a pat and said  ‘good job’ as he sped down the hall to get to work.

When Shinobu was more wakeful, Gotou gave her thorough reports of the states that Giyuu and the other patients were in. Shinobu ordered some adjustments in treatment, for her mind was already back to work. She was far from mobile, but Gotou declared that she was stable enough to be moved to her bedroom in the residence of the mansion. He and Aoi managed this transfer; Kanao was told she needn’t trouble herself.

It was a couple hours later that Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho were summoned to Shinobu's bedroom. They silently trembled with nerves about what sight might await them on the other side of the door, but the instant the it slid open and they saw Shinobu sitting up and smiling back, they couldn’t contain their joy to reunite with her.

“Shinobu-samaAAA!”

Because they had to restrain themselves from tackling injured Shinobu with hugs, they splayed themselves across her futon. The intimacy of the mansion made it safe to freely cry out with sobs of relief and gratitude. With how loudly the girls cried, Kanao was awash with how Shinobu must have foreseen this. She knew people so well. She wanted to be away from Giyuu when Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho were informed, so they’d have this freedom, didn't she? That had to have been the reason she didn't want to be with him, right?

She still had so much to learn from Shinobu, as fast as she could. Kanao had spent all those years as a child doing nothing, but she could not fault herself for the past. Likewise, she could not fault herself now for now for what she had not learned yet.

There was no more need for Flower Breathing. Kanao needed new techniques for the new battles of the future. If she was going to fight alongside Shinobu now, she needed a new way to do that.

The days and nights passed, hardly distinguishable from one another. Shinobu was wakeful but looked lifeless, like she wouldn’t even fight back if the futon swallowed her up, and Kanao couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t leave her that way but fighting with a sword wouldn’t help Shinobu now.

Kanao’s empty hands trembled over her knees as she knelt at Shinobu’s bedside. She squeezed them tighter, then used her voice. “Neesan… Can you suggest some books I can read?”

“What sort of books?”

“I want… to study medicine. I want to know how to avoid the effects of the mark. There’s still time before any of you turn 25.”

The surprise across Shinobu’s face was the most lively she had looked since waking up. Her cheeks were comfortingly rosy as she smiled back. “I’ve got a few in mind that you could read aloud to me… I need a new mission now. We can study them together.”

Chapter Text

‘ And you were the one who proposed marriage, knowing you’d just throw it away? It never meant anything to you.’

It had already been over two months since Giyuu said that.

The room was quiet with only the two of them in it, not a word exchanged. The days were dark, and the room of a comatose person didn’t need much light.

Did Giyuu remember saying that?

Shinobu couldn’t see it on his sleeping face, but maybe at the depth she hurt him, he felt the pain throughout his coma. After all, he was half-right. Their marriage did mean something to her, but not enough to not throw it away for the sake of revenge.

She took a Breath, lightly so as not to set off any pain in her lung. She spent her hours floating between lying in bed in the mansion, using her energy to smile and visit people thrilled to see her alive, and sitting quietly in this chair beside Giyuu’s hospital bed. Revenge didn’t taste sweet with how bitter Giyuu’s pain over it was—he was never supposed to find out. He was supposed to have protected his heart, and Shinobu was relying on that. He was a Hashira, and he wasn't supposed to have changed on her accord. That might be easy to ask of a Hashira, but a very silly thing to ask of a husband.

If Kanae were there, she’d probably not be pleased with how avenging her had damaged Shinobu’s marriage. After all, that marriage was Kanae’s last wish; the revenge was just the heartbreak she accepted. If Himejima were there, Shinobu knew exactly how he’d lecture her. She knew because he had.

Giyuu was a Hashira, but before that, he was a person who always risked his heart. That was why he kept it so secure, yet Shinobu proposed that he open it up, let her in, allow her to comfort and support him, only so she could leave him exposed and vulnerable.

Maybe… she wasn’t cut out for marriage in the first place.

This was what she stayed alive for—if there was anything Shinobu could do for Giyuu now, it was to try to mend the wound she left on his heart. She was never good at mending those. This wouldn’t be as straightforward as stitching a cut by one’s eye; it was going to hurt her too.

All this time, she had assumed she’d never have to face the consequences of her choices. Shinazugawa probably never planned to survive either, what with how it seemed like he kept fighting and fighting to go back to the other side. It was no wonder he was so grouchy every time he was wakeful. The Kakushi were all afraid and took lots about who would give him treatment. Shinobu knew she didn’t make a good patient either, for she hated letting anyone else fret about her personal matters. That was why she never said much about being married, and she never wanted anyone to be more saddened by its end than they should.

What a stupid thing to think—it wasn’t a marriage at all if its end wouldn’t make someone sad. Devastated, that would be normal. Shinobu must have been delusional to think otherwise.

She wished Giyuu would have been the one saying that, but he lied in silence. His absence of words pressed her to keep digging for them herself.

‘Delusional’ wasn’t right. Shinobu had always known, somewhere in the ugly depths of her heart, that her plan for revenge was hurtful. Kanae had tried to dissuade her from it in the first place, asking her to live a long life. Saving Giyuu from guilt was nothing but a convenient excuse Shinobu had used to make herself feel better about what an ugly deed she was determined to commit.

The consequences of her convenient assumptions were hers now, and deal with them she must. It wasn’t fair that anyone else should have to.

Once Shinobu was more capable of moving around, however gingerly and carefully, she dressed her own wounds. The wounds had closed, but the scars looking back at her in the mirror were among the worst she had ever laid eyes on. It looked more like flesh she’d seen on demons than on humans.

These were her consequences, and it was only fair that she should bear them alone.

It didn’t look or feel like the body she knew anymore. Her whole silhouette had changed after all that time in bed. Surviving at all was probably thanks to the mark; this body had been determined to survive, however warped it had become. What was she even supposed to do with it anymore?

It all felt off, like that stubborn little body didn’t even belong to her anymore after so much of it had wound up inside that demon. But these thoughts, like all those odd dreams and side effects the wisteria poison used to give her, were secrets she could not share.

Giyuu was bound to eventually wake up.

His prognosis was good now, so Shinobu believed it had to happen sooner or later. At times when she checked on him in that dark room, she brushed her fingers against his cheek, but to no effect.

Maybe he didn’t want to deal with her.

Maybe now he was enjoying a happy dream of a simpler past, from long before they ever married each other, or from before he entered this Corp and met her. Was he with his sister, or his friend, or maybe even eating simmered salmon and daikon with Tanjirou? Was he smiling? A part of her hoped he’d stay there in those dreams if they were happy; it wasn’t fair to wake him up. She sat down in the chair and stayed with him.

If Giyuu woke up, she would have to ask him what he wanted to do. That would force Giyuu to dig deep into his wounds and think about what comes next. Whatever it was he’d want, she’d deserve it.

If it came down to it, Shinobu would make it easy for Giyuu to leave. She already thought of the gentlest way to tell the girls: Now that the need to fight demons was gone, they no longer needed each other. They had new lives to live, new missions to throw themselves into, whatever that would look like. It would be sad, but easiest for everyone. At some level, Shinobu looked forward to an excuse to stay locked up in her lab in an all-consuming search for cures for the mark’s effects. It would be nice. A new reason for still being here, some way to focus on sustaining someone's life in this world instead of living for revenge. Kanae would be prouder of that. The odds weren’t good without help from someone wiser like Tamayo, but maybe even with Kanao’s well-meaning assistance, Shinobu could find some way to overcome the mark's effects. It could be a way to give back the time she took from Giyuu.

At the thought, something fluttered inside of her. Butterflies in her stomach, as the expression went?

Perhaps that feeling was a psychosomatic sign that she could not cheer herself up about the difficult conversation to come, though the sensation felt distinctly like something had occurred inside her anatomy. Her abdomen. She touched her fingertips to where it had been and contemplated it.

Indigestion, she decided all too quickly, though there was any number of reasons for that feeling, so she listed them off inside her head. Intestinal parasite, bowel obstruction, swallowing a goldfish, appendicitis, uterine cramping—of course! After all that rest and no longer taking injections of wisteria poison, it might have been the return of menstruation.

Then again, a psychosomatic indication of the guilt she owed Giyuu, worming around inside her? That reasoning was also sound, and Shinobu was ready to consider the thought resolved until she felt the flutter again.

It wasn’t painful. But it wasn’t right.

Giyuu slept on, days and days. There was one other possible reason for that flutter that came to Shinobu’s mind.

It shouldn’t have been possible under the effects of the wisteria poison! But then again, even if it did come with side effects, it never stopped her from fighting demons. Why would it stop her from anything else? She never fully understood the side effects, and Shinobu had always made overly convenient assumptions.

It shouldn’t have been possible after the ordeal of two months ago, though! But then again, even someone of her size and physicality had miraculously survived thanks to the mark. Rather than only closing a wound, the mark had a pronounced effect on her entire body, every organ working together. Perhaps changes already occurring in her body had helped to trigger the mark in the first place.

But wouldn’t she have noticed the changes?

When this thought occurred to her, Shinobu was sitting in front of a mirror and dressing her wounds. As though it only existed because she convinced herself it would be there, there was a change in her shape that would be difficult to blame on the weeks spent in bed. How could she not have seen it before? There was no way she could take her eyes from that roundness now.

She needed to get to her lab.

It was hard to find that chance without being overwhelmed by fatigue or worried caretakers who were sure to come looking for her. A lung injury didn’t mean Shinobu couldn’t Breathe without an attendant; having survived at all was proof of her own fortitude and she wished they’d leave her be. Leave her be for at least ten minutes!

She needed results. Until she had results, denial was the only reasonable course of action. It shouldn’t have happened, she had too many side effects, the damage she took was too great, and the only reason someone like her achieved a mark was because of all those months of living with Tanjirou, the burning charcoal who started that roaring fire among the Hashira.

Tanjirou was still in the hospital, in a coma. Nezuko was at his side.
Inosuke and Zenitsu, still mostly confined to their beds. Inosuke could only be relied on to stay there if he was sedated.
Aoi, kitchen.
Kiyo and Naho, laundry.
Sumi, nursing tasks in the hospital.
Kanao, distracted by a kitchen task.
Giyuu, comatose.

With no one watching her, Shinobu slipped away as quietly as though tracking a demon through the forest. She had already played out this battle in her head; her fingers pulled out exactly the right books from the shelves and turned to seldom glanced upon pages. The chemicals were left exactly where she always kept them organized. She worked quickly, single-mindedly. Every action was swift, and even the way the fluids from her body changed as she mixed them with the chemicals seemed every bit in accordance with the way she envisioned it unfolding.

Precisely as planned, entirely unsurprising.

Although the only reasonable response was to insist to herself that this was not possible, she was reasonable to her core. What a body like hers lacked in strength, it made up for in stubbornness. It was functional, it fought demons, it attained a mark, it fought hard to survive, and it was determined against her will to accomplish other feats as well.

But even if something even smaller than her had fought the odds to survive too, Shinobu could not believe that the ordeals hadn’t left a damaging effect. She left her books open and her tools exactly as she had used them; her hands were weighted to the counter with the reality of the consequences of revenge, and that she had lost the chance to take all the consequences upon herself.

Revenge was never meant to hurt anyone else. It kept hurting them and hurting them—

Giyuu had so much more reason to be angry with her now.

‘Giyuu…’

He laughed as he heard Urokodaki over his shoulder. The swift old man could no longer keep up with them as Giyuu and Sabito ran down the mountain, avoiding every trap. They both felt unstoppable now, free and flowing like water, though Giyuu still could barely keep pace with Sabito.

‘Giyuu…’ called the old man.

The other boy beamed back over his shoulder. ‘You look cold out here. Shouldn’t you put on some thicker clothes?’

‘Tsutako-neesan’s kimono is all I need. I can stay out here with you!’

‘Giyuu…’

‘You’re shivering. You should head back. Sensei’s calling you.’

Giyuu knew he was right, but hesitated. He gave Sabito one last look.‘…Fine…’

Sabito smiled, though it was hard to see against the bright light behind him.

“Giyuu!!”

Clatter!!

A stool fell over with a crashing sound unlike those of the fantasy traps in the sunlit forest Giyuu thought he was in. Giyuu's limbs felt heavier than they were supposed to. One of them buzzed.

“………Sensei…?”

“You’re awake? You’ve been out cold for over two months. Who do you think you are, Nezuko?”

Now that Urokodaki mentioned that he was in bed, his head ached. His body all felt tired, and that limb felt extraordinarily numb. With a struggle, Giyuu looked over at it. Since he couldn’t find it, he must have been more disoriented than he thought he was, but then he recalled that he didn’t have that limb anymore. “…Nezuko… is she safe…?”

“She’s fine. Doesn’t sleep at all with how busy she’s been. Tanjirou’s still out.”

“…is he…?”

“Not a demon. You did well, Giyuu,” Urokodaki said, firmly placing his hand on his pupil’s head. “But you’ve rested enough. Are you awake enough for me to call your wife?”

He groaned and squinted. “…call my wife what…?”

“Not yet, then.”

Giyuu’s head thumped as he put more of the pieces back together. Tanjirou and Nezuko were safe, and, by what Urokodaki said, then Shinobu, too…

He then settled back to a dreamless sleep.

Dreamless…

That was right. His heart still had healing to do before he could dream. He had seen both Tsutako and Sabito, though...

‘To… --san…’

Had they been dreams? He hadn’t seen any in so long. Were dreams always so pleasant?

‘Tomioka-san.’

The thought of butterflies came to mind. Fluttering about in the moonlight, like the way her haori floated behind her when she descended from the treetops, Nichirin blade in hand and plastered smile upon her soft lips. That was how she always looked when slipping away, out of his grasp. It always felt like she was going to slip away.

Always… it always hurt and scared him, like he’d never catch her even if he reached out—

‘Nee, Tomioka-san. Moshi moshi? Hello?’

He groaned this time. By that tone of voice, he knew what was coming.

“Tomioka-sa—”

Giyuu’s hand moved before his eyes opened, for he had caught her finger before she had the chance to poke his arm.

Only, there was no arm there to poke, and she had not extended a finger to poke him. Giyuu had instead sloppily caught all her fingers with his hand cupped over hers. He was confused, and she looked surprised. “Your reflexes are still of Hashira caliber. That’s a good sign,” she said with a smile and a hushed voice, taking her hand back to her own side. “How are you feeling?”

“…I’ve been better,” he decided on, for he didn’t know the extent of his injuries and how bad he should or should not be feeling. He looked her over, his eyes low. She looked subdued, but much better than the glimpse he got of her in the Infinity Fortress. “It’s cold…”

“Ara. Should I get you another blanket?”

“Shouldn’t you be wearing thicker clothes? …What happened… to your haori?”

“Neesan’s haori,” she mildly shook her head. “It got frozen like glass and shattered. Not to mention ripped to shreds.” Very slowly due to her injuries, she leaned closer to whisper, “Nezuko-san has worked very hard on yours. She’s done a good job of salvaging it.”

“I see…” he said, a faint smile across his eyes before he closed them. “Did Shinazugawa make it?”

“Perhaps against his will, yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Then you’ve heard? About the others…”

“…I was there…”

“Yes. I suppose you were. I can only imagine how difficult that was for you with Tanjirou-kun.”

“It was your medicine… You saved him.”

“You were an outstanding Hashira, Tomioka-san. The only one anyone had at that moment.”

“You’re the one who would know what it’s like to put being a Hashira first.”

“…”

“…”

The room did feel colder; it was still frigid March. In the silence, they pulled back to mind the last words they had exchanged months before. Shinobu’s lips tightened with what had to come next. “Nee, Tomioka-san.”

“What?”

“The Hashira first, spouses second promise we made… where should it go from here?”

His glance narrowed. “You’re asking me that?”

“Let me be clear. I never wanted to cut it short. If it never came to pass that I encountered the demon who killed my sister, or if the poison in my blade would prove sufficient, I always assumed I would stay married to you, for as long as I lived.”

“Then you didn’t need that plan.”

“I did.”

As much as he did not want to agree, Giyuu knew better than anyone how small and weak-limbed she was. She was right, as much as he hated that truth. “I take it back. But in the end, you weren’t on your own. You brought your Tsuguko into that plan.”

“Yes. I had to.”

“You could have brought me, too.”

“No, I had—,” she began, but decided that bringing Inosuke into this would derail the conversation as much as if Inosuke himself were interrupting. It wouldn’t mean anything now to argue that she couldn’t risk a second Hashira falling in that battle. There were more important things that had to be said. “What matters is that I broke your trust. Tell me what you want. I’ll listen. I don’t have any place to argue.”

By the way she sat so stiffly and fought so hard to keep a stone smile in place under listless eyes, Giyuu could tell that she at last felt the sting of guilt. It was what he hoped would hit her back when he lashed out at her, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed seeing her go through it. It wasn’t gratifying that any of it happened at all. It was an awful part of their marriage that they suffered through their own guilt in the first place.

He replied, “Do I have any place to decide either? I’m the one who kept a secret from you that went against Corp rules.”

“And I’m the one who kept a secret that went against our marriage,” she insisted. “You’re right. I did always foresee an end to it. I made it convenient for myself by telling myself I took your feelings into account, but I didn’t. Never at the depth I should have. There are a lot of things I never accounted for as responsibly as I should have. Saying ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t even begin to express it.”

Shinobu then bit her lip. Like her inability to say ‘I’m sorry’ plainly was proof of how sincere she was about it.

So convenient for her. Why hadn’t failing to verbalize things ever worked so conveniently for him?

It was his turn to speak, and maybe he was expected to say something to make her feel better or tell her it wasn’t that important. But that would keep things convenient for her, wouldn’t it? This whole marriage, from the way she foresaw a start and end to it and how Giyuu was supposed to move on, was always for her own convenience.

He’d have to be crazy not to be angry at her. He was, and he tried to feel that way, but the relief that she was sitting there at all made it hard to summon back the angry words that flowed so easily before. He could still reach out and touch her, and that gratitude crowded out all his more rational thoughts. Even though Giyuu waited a long time to speak, Shinobu resisted any impatience to bug him to hurry up and say something. That was a nice change, and Giyuu appreciated it.

He finally said, “I’ve never been hurt like that before, so I’ve never been apologized to like this either.”

“Hm-mm,” she mumbled a choked acknowledgment.

“I broke your trust too. I always saw opportunities when I could have told you about Nezuko, but I chose not to. I didn’t want you to be mad.”

“To be fair, I would have been.”

“You always had reason to be. We were never very different. You must have been upset knowing I’d have taken my own life too, had Nezuko ever harmed anyone.”

Shinobu’s expression betrayed surprise. “No, that never bothered me at all.”

“It didn’t?”

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

He really was disposable! If there was a hole, Giyuu wished it would swallow him up for having overestimated his place in her heart, how mortifying. Maybe he really was disliked.

“I suppose,” she said, her eyes rolling back to her memories, “I fully trusted your judgement about her, so I was never worried.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes. I suppose so.”

“Alright,” he said, and that seemed good, though he wasn’t sure how or why. “Are you still mad about Nezuko now?”

“No.”

“It was supposed to be my own matter. It had nothing to do with you, but that was also convenient for me to think that way.”

“You never meant for me to get hurt by it.”

“I hurt you anyway.”

“…You never meant to widow me by it.”

“That is true. That choice was hurtful,” he said. Not wanting to see what face she'd make, Giyuu looked over to the other side of the empty hospital room. “Down in the Fortress, I found myself trusting your judgement too. Maybe what I hated more was that you never told me about it.”

His gut warned him wisely, for by how the sound of her Breath changed, and how she tried to hide that she was sniffling, he had made her cry.

Giyuu took a Breath of his own and searched his mind for what more he could say, but he was drawing a blank. Should he make Shinobu feel better by making himself take all the blame? If she couldn’t tell him her plan, wasn’t it because he wasn’t supportive enough, or that he’d never done his fair share of the talking to make her believe he'd be understanding? Or was it that he was always too naïve to conduct himself as the Hashira she needed him to be?

All of that was all they always promised—nothing changed, and neither did they.

"..."

"..."

“Being Hashira first always made it so hard to be spouses,” he said.

“I understand. I won’t argue.”

Giyuu grimaced, filling with anger akin to being in battle. “That’s what bothers me. It’s never a good sign if you’re quiet. Kochou, we… our problem is what you’ve always said—”

“Careful—Are you alright to sit up?”

“—we don’t talk enough. And now, with both of us still here, we need to talk more.”

He reached out to wipe the tear off her cheek, but his hand was not there.

“Ngh—”

“Careful!”

Wincing the whole way and ignoring her quiet plea for him not to hurt himself, Giyuu twisted against all his tight injuries so that his remaining arm could reach her face. It drove him crazy that he couldn’t draw her close and crush her against his chest and cradle her in all her smallness. “That’s how we’ll trust each other again. The way a husband and wife should.”

Shinobu’s silver eyes glimmered with fresh tears; not a drop of poison in her quivering lip. “You still want me?”

“I want you badly.”

She moved his hand from her cheek and caressed it against her chest, leaning forward to make a soft, warm cave around it, and hiding her crying face. “You shouldn’t say that so soon. There’s still more I have to tell you about how awful I’ve been.”

“Then tell me.”

Something else, something she couldn’t say to his face? A part of Giyuu was primed to be angry. This wasn’t like her. She’d either say it with poison, or not say it at all. And what more could she say now? That she was providing ‘motivational training’ to Uzui all this time? Maybe even something that ridiculous wouldn’t phase him now.

“You were right,” she whispered.

“…?”

He managed no words in response, stunned that she might have read his thoughts. That couldn’t have been it—what was she getting at?

“Somehow, you knew even better than I did. You tried to protect me when I wouldn’t protect myself. Me, or our child.”

Child.

It was like his ears had gone numb, what with recognizing the meaning of the word, but not feeling it sink in.

Child.

…She was with child!

Giyuu unwittingly stole his hand back as he sat square in front of her, his eyes wide. With her hands left empty, Shinobu hid her face, and words shook free between her palms. “I went and put myself through so much. The baby went through so much. My body is still full of poison. It’ll be months before it all breaks down.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve hurt it. I must have hurt it, if not with poison then with the battle. I’m sorry. I did this to your child. It’s all my fault.”

“…but there’s a child there, right now. Alive, inside you?”

She nodded as she sniffled, the butterfly hairpiece on her head fluttering like it might take flight. Child! The reality of the word finally sank in. Giyuu’s eyes watered, his mouth smiled, and he had no control over any of it. It hurt to lean forward and reach his left hand that far, but he placed his palm across her belly, his smile growing wider and gooier.

 “Can I feel it?” he asked, a little late.

“It’s still so small. I don’t think you can.”

“When it gets bigger, then?”

“I suppose. Do you understand what I’m saying, Tomioka-san?”

“You’re Tomioka-san. Stop talking like it’s only my child. It’s yours, too. That’s probably why it fought so hard and survived. It’s the child of a Hashira.”

“Don’t say that.”

“This is the child of two Hashira,” he went on, amazed at himself for how fast the words spilled out his drowsy lips. “They must have fought hard to be here. Even if they aren’t born healthy, even if they don’t have use of their arms or legs, look at what they have now for a father. Look at everyone in this Corp who’s survived. What’s most important is that you and I are both still here to raise them.”

“You can’t be so flippant about how it might suffer,” Shinobu hissed back. “What’s more, the two of us—you! You especially—you’ll only be here another three years at most. This is what we’re setting this child up for. Because it had Hashira for parents!”

Her hands fell to her lap. Shinobu gave way to sobs, like trapped in a night terror or throwing a tantrum. She looked so small.

When Giyuu was very young, this was what he pictured his married life would look like. A worried wife, prone to crying, always in need of reassurance. It was hard to recall, but maybe his mother was like that. Back then, Giyuu thought that when he was a grown-up husband, he would always have the right words for someone precious to him.

But Shinobu had always kept him guessing. She left him driest for words when he needed them for her the most.

He couldn’t feel anything in her belly yet. He instead put his hand behind her head, then pulled her close to kiss her forehead. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face to cry. Despite everything she said being true, Giyuu felt he could no longer be the hollow cave she could scream into to hide her feelings. He felt too solid now—too stable to even imagine wavering.

Chapter Text

“I almost died right there. The wound bled so much.”

“I almost died too. Many times… so many wounds…”

The room was so dark that the hazy window felt bright, but lying so close, they kept their eyes closed. Shinobu was curled on the bed at Giyuu’s side, more ginger about her injuries than her belly, and her hand rested over Giyuu’s knuckles. Consciousness still seemed evasive, so Giyuu stayed focused on that touch of her soft, cold fingertips as he listened.

“Kanao saw everything that happened above ground. I’ve been told…” she whispered, the stories all flowing together. “I heard how you fought. I could only manage a little more. I was almost eaten… It swallowed chunks of flesh from my shoulder. Digested them. Kanao found me before it could eat me whole, and then Inosuke-kun came and saved us.”

“Inosuke?”

“Wait, no… it was before all that. I thought of you.”

“I thought of you too... When my sword broke, I thought you met your end.”

“Your sword broke? While fighting Muzan?”

“No... Upper Moon Three.”

“That’s… the demon that Rengoku-san fought…”

“That demon… killed many Hashira.”

Shinobu’s Breath was so close under Giyuu’s nose that he could almost smell it, but she turned her lips away and nuzzled her forehead against his temple, where a neatly patched scar was. “Tell me about it… I’ll listen...”

“Tanjirou… took the first blows…”

“Tanjirou-kun was with you… I see...”

“It was all before I had a chance to react… he’s grown so much…” his whispered words faded, and their Breath fell to the same sleeping rhythm. Their strength was not what it used to be.

For as much as they needed to talk more, neither of them had much to say after that night.

Maybe it was a lack of energy. For as subdued as Shinobu looked, Giyuu could hardly make sense of his own sunken face looking back at him in a mirror. He was soon sitting up and able to move about with the living and speak clearly about the state of his injuries, but whenever he and Shinobu met eyes, they fell wordless—something was communicated there, though, like a promise to speak and communicate later. For Giyuu, it was enough to know they’d have a future to talk about at all.

“Giyuu-sama! Eat up!”

“Giyuu-sama! We have lots and lots and lots of daikon for you!”

“Giyuu-sama! Have some caramel! It’s really good, and full of calories! You’ve lost weight!”

Shinobu smiled mildly at him from across the bustling dinner table. It was clear that she had not told the girls anything, which was so like her. Now that he was out of bed, Giyuu assured himself that this was his way of protecting Shinobu—taking all of Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi’s excitement upon himself so that Shinobu could have space to Breathe and take care of herself.

Aoi came into the room with more food to set at the table. “I know you may have a light appetite, but you should have more to eat before a couple certain hospital residents sneak it all away.” She then disappeared for the rest of the evening. She hardly stayed still for more than a few minutes at a time, always mentioning some patient or several who still needed care.

The hospital must have been so busy. Urokodaki said formal hellos here and there, but he often excused himself to go cut firewood for the hospital, whether out of necessity or an excuse to be alone, Giyuu did not know. Tanjirou was among those who hadn’t woken up yet. Giyuu was eager for that to happen. He wished Shinazugawa was still in the hospital, but he had been told that Shinazugawa made a swift recovery and took off as soon as no one was capable of stopping him. Nezuko stayed busy over in the hospital too, but she made sure to come visit and tell Giyuu how happy she was that he had woken up. Since he had never heard her speak much before, Giyuu wasn’t sure what to say to her. That never bothered Nezuko, who always had something cheerful to say and fill the air.

Shinobu’s voice interrupted Giyuu’s thoughts.

“Did you eat enough, Kanao?”

“!!”

Kanao flushed and turned away, her mumbled response unintelligible. Her face was deep red. Although the change in Giyuu’s expression was imperceptible, he furrowed his brow and frowned at the sight of this.

It would have been odd for Giyuu to happen upon a moment alone with Kanao, so he made it happen the next chance he had. “Kanao,” he addressed her as she checked his vitals, “Close the door. I need to speak with you.”

Kanao turned pink and sweaty but nodded and did as she was told. When she returned to the chair next to Giyuu’s, she kept her mouth sewn shut and her cloudy eyes to the floor. To think, someone who conducted herself in a way so small and begging not to be noticed had been a capable Tsuguko, one who took the head of an Upper Moon and battled Kibutsuji Muzan himself. If told nothing about her, even someone as experienced as Giyuu would never guess what feats a girl this timid was capable of. She hardly seemed like the same person who he witnessed at the end of the battle, leaping into action as though in flight and single-handedly saving the entire Corp from a hopeless defeat and saving Tanjirou from himself.

He owed everything to her, his sister-in-law.

“Don’t worry,” Giyuu said. “If Kochou is mad at you, I’ll defend you.”

“Eh?” she finally looked up at him. “No, not at all. She hasn’t said so.”

“Really? That’s good, then.”

That was all he had in mind to say, and now he was stuck. They together listened to a clock tick.

Eventually, some years from now, he’d need to ask a lot more of Kanao. The Butterfly Mansion made more sense of a home than whisking a child off to the mountains, however loved they’d be there. Giyuu couldn’t fully address those matters yet.

“You’ve been dependable,” he went on.

Kanao hastily acknowledged being spoken to with only a nod and a squeak.

“I’m glad you’re here. I would hate to ask more of you after all you’ve done, especially for Kochou.”

“Tomi—Gi—Giyuu-san,” she put a hand to his forearm as if to stop him. “Can I—can I take a sample of your blood, please?”

“More vitals?”

“I’m… trying to experiment. To help Neesan. I use her lab… sometimes… to read the books… she leaves her books open … and she leaves... samples…”

“For research? I don’t know how much blood I have to spare, but you can take it.”

“I heard Nezuko-chan’s cells taught other demon cells. Maybe human cells can be taught, too. To overcome the—to give you a chance. I still want to give you a chance. You and Neesan both.”

“Kanao. Thank you.”

“Eh?”

“You already gave me the chance I needed. Thank you. I’m relieved…” he went on, and Kanao at last relaxed into a very charming smile. Giyuu finished, “…because for a long time, I thought you didn’t like me.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been told before that I’m disliked.”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“I’m glad. I never disliked you either. I always thought it was nice that we were both quiet.”

Kanao decided not to mention that she didn’t think much of Giyuu one way or another for a long time and changed the subject. “How are your injuries feeling?”

“They don’t bother me much. What about yours? They were serious, too.”

She shook her head and smiled, and Giyuu could tell that Kanao chose not to worry him. He also knew that however much Kanao wanted to help combat the mark, her knowledge was not as deep as Shinobu’s. Giyuu wasn’t going to discourage her, though. He stayed put as Kanao went back and forth to check and ready what items she’d need to take a sample. She checked every action against a list, moving her head and the objects to see them well in her limited pockets of vision. Giyuu was a cooperative patient, offering his arm and not rushing her. Though unpracticed, Kanao knew she made a mistake as soon as she plunged the needle. “Ah!”

“I’m alright. Just try again.”

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked, then squinted and put her face closer to Giyuu’s arm as she punctured him again.

The refreshing silence returned. This time her aim was probably close enough, for she drew the syringe with shaking fingers. The sensation shouldn’t have been enough to bother Giyuu after all the other injuries he had been through, but his vision started going cloudy.

This wasn’t going to knock him out, but it was odd to feel so unnerved by pain. Wasn’t he always numb to daily little pains like this? Maybe with no battles left and only life to live, it made him feel every part of being alive more intensely.

He wasn't as strong as he used to be, but he told himself that it was good to could feel things at all. He smiled thinking back to the cold touch of Shinobu's fingertips.

The remaining Hashira were called to assemble in early April. They were still at the beck and call of their master—Kiriya.

As she put on a uniform for the first time in months, Shinobu had tried for one, but then adjusted her belt buckle to two more loops than usual. It was a squeeze, so she contemplated a third, but she adjusted her posture and stayed at two. She then looked herself over in the mirror. Although she found the change in her shape obvious, as long as she kept that posture no one else could probably tell unless they were looking for it. She turned her neck only as far as comfortable to see how much scarring was visible over her collar. Aside from feeling overly exposed without the butterfly haori, it was a satisfactory appearance as the Insect Hashira.

“Are you ready?”

She looked to Giyuu out the door, in the sunny garden. “Ara!” she exclaimed. “Nezuko-san did really well on that.”

“Like nothing happened to it,” he said, casting a glance down to his attire, which was finished off with a repaired haori. As long as no one was looking for the seams or a slight change in color, it looked like it hadn’t seen battle at all. “Sorry to make you wait. I had trouble with my hair.”

“Why didn’t you say so? I’d have helped you with it.”

“I’m thinking of getting it cut.”

“Oh? Perhaps I can—”

“Maybe Nezuko is good at cutting hair, too.”

“Oh. I suppose you can ask her,” Shinobu acknowledged with a plastered smile. It wasn’t worth adding any poison to the smile.

Giyuu offered his left hand to help Shinobu down from the veranda to her shoes in the garden. They were sandals she could slip into instead of bending down to tie them, for bending over still set off her injuries.

En the crow led their way through shady mountain paths. They walked side by side, staring straight ahead like all the times they had gone on missions together. Their steely focus was broken when the sunlight that broke through a tunnel of cherry blossoms caught their attention, summoning their glances upward.

“Ara,” said Shinobu with admiration. She found herself slipping her hand around Giyuu’s arm, only to be startled when it wasn’t there. She returned her hand to her side before he’d notice any brush at his sleeve. “It’s probably only another day or two until the Victory Tree blooms. It takes its time.”

“Sensei says he’s looking forward to seeing it.”

“Can he see it through that mask?”

“He can. He’s very good at woodwork. I’m sure he’ll make lots of things for the baby.”

“You didn’t tell him yet, I hope.”

“Is it a secret?”

“It’s not anyone else’s business. They’ll get too excited.”

“They’ll find out and get excited anyway.”

“I just don’t want to get their hopes up,” she frowned, her fingers tracing her belly.

“I want to tell them,” he said with unmistakable certainty. “How much time do we have until it’s born?”

“If it takes its time, maybe July.”

Giyuu lit up. “Tanjirou was born in July.”

“I see,” she replied and made a mental note to herself to investigate ways of inducing labor earlier. It was within reason, given the state of her own injuries. “I probably don’t have much longer until everyone can tell. We should tell your sensei soon, and the girls.”

“Tanjirou will be excited too.”

“Tanjirou has barely woken up and he’s still drowning in visitors. Visiting Oyakata-sama’s estate today is a relief so we can get some peace and quiet.”

Giyuu eyed her with tightened brows. “Are you tired?”

“I’m always tired now. But the breeze is refreshing,” she said, smiling back up at the trees as a blossom hit her cheek. “It’s going to be odd not to see everyone else there today. Even if I’ve convinced myself not to expect the Oyakata-sama we knew, I keep thinking Amane-sama will be there instead. And that Kanroji-san will be the first to say hello.”

“She always was. Ah—that reminds me. Honey.”

“Honey?”

“Kanroji brought some for us. It was a wedding present, I think.”

“Wedding? She didn’t know us when we got married.”

“It was after she found out.”

“Then that wasn’t until the last Hashira meeting.”

“She said she was super, very happy for you.”

“You didn’t tell her what you knew, did you?”

“I guarded that secret because I thought you wanted me to. She was just happy that you were a bride.”

 “Oh, Kanroji-san… I wish she could have known about this too. She’d have been so excited.”

“Himejima probably would have cried, wouldn’t he?”

“He’d have pestered me. He’s probably up there complaining to Neesan about how right he always was.” Shinobu stopped herself before prattling on about wishing she could have given him the chance to hold her child. Saying such a thing would bode ill now. “It’s so sad that we never had the chance to send Kanroji-san a wedding gift.”

“She said she knew not to expect it anymore. For her, that was what it meant to be a Hashira.”

“…I see.”

“I did tell her it was possible to be married as a Hashira, though. If I wasn’t convincing, maybe she should have spoken to Uzui. He’d have assured her of how capable he was.”

“Let’s not be lewd, Tomioka-san.”

The path never quite looked familiar. Any time their feet seemed to know a different route, they had to fight that feeling and keep following En up the unknown path to an Ubuyashiki Estate they had never seen before.

When they arrived, Shinazugawa was already sitting in a wide room with all its doors open. When he looked over, there was an odd sense of peace about him. “Yo.”

“Hello, Shinazugawa-san.”

“Hello.” After greeting him, Giyuu realized with some frustration that he had forgotten to prepare any ohagi.

Shinazugawa looked like he might ask how Shinobu was feeling, but after a brief glance at her tummy, he kept a smile to himself. They all knelt formally as Kiriya and his sisters entered.

“Thank you all for coming,” the boy, their master, said. “This is the final Hashira Meeting. Sanemi. Shinobu. Giyuu. There are only three Hashira remaining, and many of my other children have perished as well. However, we have all succeeded in eliminating the demons. The Demon Slayer Corp is hereby disbanded.”

“Understood.”

The Ubuyashiki children did their best, more admirably than most people could in entire lifetimes, to maintain formality while expressing the depth of their gratitude. The former Hashira would not stand to leave their own gratitude for the entire Ubuyashiki family unsaid. Their feelings permeated the children’s steely expressions, and Kiriya thanked them with a whine in his voice as he and his sisters gave way to sniffles and sobs.

There were smiles around the room by the time they said their goodbyes, and Kiriya expressed his good wishes to them in everything ahead. Shinobu almost wanted to tell him.

After that, Shinobu, Giyuu, and Shinazugawa all left together, taking their time in the mid-day sunshine under the cherry blossoms. Shinobu’s voice was dreamy as she said, “The moment they started crying was the moment the Corp truly ended, don’t you think?”

Shinazugawa gave her a look. “Not when he declared it?”

“That was when they were able to simply be children. I suppose we’ve all been doing the same thing, knowing ourselves first and foremost as members of the Demon Slayer Corp. It makes us all feel stronger that way, rather than calling ourselves something so vulnerable, like sister, or brother…”

“Or husband and wife,” finished Giyuu.

“Yes, of course that too.”

Shinazugawa shrugged. “I guess, sure. I'm nothing else now, though.”

“Being married is nice. You should try it,” Giyuu said.

“I didn’t ask you.”

Shinobu sighed, for she had hoped this would lead into something about how Shinazugawa could call himself a friend. She sighed too deeply, however, and underestimated how much room her diaphragm would need behind her belt, as well as how much it would trigger the pain in her lung. Coupled with being out in the sunshine, it all at once made her feel dizzy. “Tomioka-san—” she reached out for him, getting only a handful of empty sleeve.

“You’re Tomioka—” he looked over his shoulder, but in that time Shinazugawa had already steadied her.

“Hey! Hey, are you alright? Keep an eye out on your wife, why don’t you!”

Having been yelled at, Giyuu’s eyes shot wider and he raised his other hand to catch Shinobu, or to add to how she’d already been steadied, or whatever else it was she needed, but he did not know what was going on so suddenly or what he could do now that she was not in any apparent danger of falling. Was she ill? Was there something more? It wasn’t July yet, certainly it couldn’t have been labor pains. Unless?

She winced. “I just need to go home and rest.”

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

“…?”

“Carry her!”

Giyuu did as Shinazugawa told him to and scooped Shinobu up immediately, but she shrieked. “—Aah!”

“What’s the matter?” Giyuu asked. “Is it the baby?”

“Ow! That’s my bad lung! And don’t—”

“Don’t crush her against one side! Distribute her weight more!”

Giyuu would have, but he had no other arm to adjust with. He looked back at Shinazugawa helplessly. “What's the safest way to carry a pregnant woman?” he asked.

“Tomioka-san!” she struggled, pushing her way out of Giyuu’s grasp and back to her own unsteady feet. She shot a hand up between them, and her face was all red.

Why the hand? Did she not want him to touch her? Maybe she was angry about what he said. “You don't need to be upset. Shinazugawa already knows—”

“Since when does Shinazugawa-san kn—ow, ow, ow, ow—”

“The issue’s that she’s injured, idiot! Don’t just use one—arm—dammit,” Shinazugawa heaved a heavy, resigned sigh of his own.

To everyone’s alarm but mostly confusion, when they finally reached the Butterfly Mansion, Shinobu was carried home in a palanquin made of three and a half arms. Shinazugawa’s expression looked distinctly as sour as his usual self, and although no one noticed, Shinobu’s belt was four buckles looser than usual.

“Shinobu-sama looks like a queen,” Naho remarked. Kanao fretted about how high up Shinobu was, but she could not manage to say a word.

Shinobu felt better after resting, but Giyuu remained dutifully at her side, from the living room where they drank tea, to the hallway outside the bathroom while Shinobu washed up. It was annoying and she insisted he go bathe after her because he smelled bad now that the weather was warm enough to cause a sweat.

Once Giyuu had a moment forcibly to himself, he listened to the drops of the bathwater. In all his years of practicing Water Breath, this was a sound he often imagined, whether consciously or not. The echos of those droplets were nearly distracting in their realness.

He then watched his thoughts. He played over and over in his head how Shinobu had put up a hand between them that afternoon. Was that his fault for touching her wounds? How raw were those wounds still? Even though they had agreed to talk more, she hadn’t told him anything.

Was she as bothered by small pains and needles now as he was? Did low blood pressure plague her at all times down instead of only after she lied down?

Could he still detect the scent of wisteria?

For as much as he had explored her before, Shinobu’s body was something he felt he didn’t know anymore.

When he entered their bedroom in his sloppily-tied yukata, he found her busy reading a stack of thick medical books. Even the ones in Japanese were far beyond his comprehension and had text so small that he had to imagine reading them put a strain on her eyes. Her bedclothes and posture masked the change in her shape.

Giyuu knelt next to her. “Can I touch—”

“It’s not kicking right now.”

He frowned. “Is it asleep?”

“Most likely. It might still be a while before you can feel anything.”

“Tell me when it moves again.”

“I will.”

“Shinobu.”

Her fingers arched, then she put down the book and faced him. “Yes?” she asked with poison sweetness.

“I want to see your body.”

Her expression went taunt, and then her voice was quiet. “It’s not the way you remember it.”

“Mine isn’t the way you remember it either. I’m sure you already saw it while I was asleep.”

“My flesh is barely holding itself together. It doesn’t even look like skin.”

“I want to see you anyway.”

“…Let me dim the lights more than this.”

She left the lights very low, but not low enough to hide from Giyuu’s practiced eyes, so she stayed turned away when she untied the knot on her bedclothes. What was fair was fair, so Giyuu pulled the end of his own to let it all fall to the floor. His body was littered with scars, and the vestige of his right arm was nubbly and could stir one’s stomach in uncomfortable ways if stared at for long.

Maybe the reason humans felt so repulsed by flesh like his arm was because it reminded them of demons, even if they had never seen them. Tanjirou might say that people rejecting that sight are pitiful. When seeing the physical pain of another human, the compassion becomes too much to stand, so that compassion turns to disgust.

Shinobu turned around. From the side of her neck down the front of her breast, her left side was a mangled array of colors pulled in every which direction, like a thin curtain hastily and desperately fastened across an open window in a violent storm where shutters should have been used instead. There were bumps and depressions that didn’t make sense of where parts of her should be. His eyes lingered there on how painful it must have been, and how much of her had been lost inside a voracious demon. Tanjirou was right—when compassion was too much, it was easier to change that emotion to something easier to withstand, like anger.

Giyuu’s eyes traced the silhouette of her curves next; Shinobu had lost weight, even for how much her belly was rounding out. There was one stark diagonal scar broken across her thighs.

“Horrible, isn’t it,” she tried to say through a plaster smile. She hated herself for trembling under Giyuu’s gaze; he had seen her naked so many times before that it shouldn’t have troubled her.

“Does it bother you?”

“The pain is nothing.”

“But it bothers you.”

“It bothers me,” she agreed. “Isn’t it odd? If I could still call myself a Hashira, that would be a title I could hide behind. It wouldn’t make me ashamed of how I became this way. But the Corp is gone, and that promise we made doesn’t mean anything anymore. Without that title to hide behind, I have nothing left to shield myself. I have nothing put in front of being your wife.”

“I had the deepest respect for you as a Hashira. But now none of that gets in the way.”

“I used to think I could never want anything more than how much I wanted to avenge Kanae-neesan. But… wanting to see you is the reason I’m still here. It's the reason I attained a mark.” As Shinobu spoke, her fingertips touched the place on her thigh where the mark—what she heard had been told like a butterfly—had been. The sound of those words, and the touch of fingertips made her all at once nauseated with rage.

“I got the mark because I wanted to protect Ta—”

“The last thing I remember was that demon touching me. Staring at me as it tasted me,” she gritted her teeth. “Before that, it had its arms all around me. An embrace. It was the tightest I’ve ever been held before, with its lips by my ears and down my shoulder. Its tongue inside of me. It was disgusting. It’s like I still feel its hands all over me.”

Giyuu, smartly, was silent. He watched as Shinobu stood her ground, despite how violently she shook. He then looked down to his own body, and what was absent from it. He’d never again be able to embrace her as tightly as that demon did.

If he could go back to the fortress, would he have left Upper Moon Three to Tanjirou to try to go spare Shinobu any of that battle? It was no use thinking of such things now, for no amount of looking backward had ever done any good. Healing could never undo the past. It could only move people forward.

“I can’t take that feeling away,” Giyuu said, and he didn’t feel like it was right to try. If he had any healing touch, that touch would have to be his own. He stepped toward her, and with his left hand, he took her right. His fingers traced their way to her palm to release her fist, then laced his fingers together with hers. “Our own embraces are never going to feel the way we remember them.”

Too ashamed to look at him, Shinobu acknowledged his words with a nod.

“From now on, you’re the one who is going to have to hold me tightly. When you’re ready—”

She pressed her mangled flesh against his chest, breaking free of his grip so that she could wrap her arms around him with all her strength. It was so tight that her muscles shook, even if the result was weaker than she’d ever been before, for she had lost so much muscle in her left side.

They were silent as Giyuu felt her heartbeat thump against him. He used to think it was never a good sign if she was silent, but maybe sometimes it was. Shinobu was communicating to him, sending a signal more clearly than any time they ever stood like this before, when she had left herself weak and comforted against him, hidden in the nest of his arms and draping haori. She held him tightly, for him.

“Shi—”

“Giyuu-san.”

His ears were more sensitive than ever, now that he lived for himself and not for battle. His name lingered there and he savored it, letting it echo in his mind. He then broke out of Shinobu’s grasp so he could guide her to look up at him, and so he could stare down into her silvery eyes. His hand found its way to her neck; his left hand was so nicely at her right, the side where he wouldn’t have to worry about touching her injuries. She’d already been hurt so much.

Every feeling he ever knew for her stirred intensely, the anger and hurt, and the guilt and the fear, all swirling in that whirlpool in his chest under all the sweetness and joys. These were all still his to feel, since yet again, he had survived. But this time he didn’t survive alone—Shinobu was still here too, and they could feel alive, together.

If Giyuu had asked her if she was ready, Shinobu would have said she was not. After all, she didn't deserve him. But the moment Giyuu said to hold him tightly, she moved without thinking, for that was what she wanted to do more than anything—to have him close, to love him, to show him how much he meant to her.

What followed was cumbersome. Where one could put their weight, where one couldn’t have weight put on them, what injuries up and down their battered bodies shouldn’t be touched, every movement was discussed and predictable. They had never spoken so many words during spousal duties before, and Shinobu would unromantically describe the encounter as ‘practical.’ Her heart had not raced fast, but it felt peaceful and settled. Sometimes spoken words were not as convincing as messages conveyed in the act:

—I forgive you—

—Stay with me—

—I love you—

Still, Giyuu knew her well enough to know she always clamored for words. “Are you in any pain?” he asked her afterward.

“None from you. You were very careful. Are your injuries alright too?”

“They’re still healing. But I’ll heal more.”

“With any luck, mine will too.”

Giyuu didn’t allow her to mumble on about the dangers of childbirth or the toll of the mark. He pressed their unscathed lips together for a kiss, then said, “Maybe in the states we’re in, I’ll have a chance to finally take your Breath away.”

Chapter Text

Dohnnnnnnn, rang the bowl before the altar. Shinobu sat down the instrument she used to strike it, then brought her hands together.

Neesan, I have something to tell you.

That Upper Moon Two was killed? That demons were gone? That her injuries were recovering? She’d already overheard the girls say that part. She’d also heard Aoi ask Kanae to make the effects of the mark go away. But what could Kanae do about that, over on that side?

It’s about Tomioka-san and me. You see, we’re expecting…

…well, you probably already know.

She steadied herself with her hands and smoothed her kimono as she stood. There was work to be done in the lab that morning.

“Say, Giyuu-san. Shinobu-san smells different now, doesn’t she?”

“I can’t tell,” Giyuu replied from Tanjirou’s bedside. If Tanjirou could smell the wisteria subsiding, then that was a good sign. Then again, Tanjirou’s nose could probably detect more than that, and Giyuu wouldn’t have to keep a secret if Tanjirou already knew something else. A bright gooey smile hit his face. “How so?”

Tanjirou sniffed the air again, trying to catch whatever scent was left from Shinobu’s brief check-up on Tanjirou’s condition. “She doesn’t smell so angry anymore.”

Angry? Had that been how she smelled whenever she was around Tanjirou? Giyuu stayed quiet a moment before responding. “That’s good.”

Tanjirou sniffed again. “Now she smells more… worried?”

“…”

“Or it may be that my nose is still recovering! But I’m glad she doesn’t have any more demons to worry about. Except Yushirou-san, but he’s different.”

“Do I smell worried?”

“You?” Tanjirou asked, raising his eyebrows and looking at Giyuu with one wide eye, while the other was still covered, the bandage barely holding on. “Not particularly. Is my nose off? Are you worried about something, Giyuu-san?”

“If you don’t think I smell that way, then I guess I’m not.”

Tanjirou smiled gently at him. “Your scent has changed too.”

“Has it?”

“Oyakata-sama would probably be relieved to see you like this. He was always worried about you, and the hold the past had on you. But now I can tell you’re facing forward. There’s still so many good things to look forward to, aren’t there?”

Giyuu could feel his own smile warm him right down to his heart. He said nothing while Tanjirou sniffed the air again.

“Oh! Is Urokodaki-san back? I heard he comes and goes, so I haven’t seen him yet.”

“He might be. I’ll ask him to come say hello if I see him.”

“That’s alright! I can get up and walk around now!” Tanjirou replied, throwing his blanket off with the bravado of a charging boar, but then turning around just as quickly to neatly fold it, straighten out the sheets and pillow, and set the folded blanket on the end of the bed. “I won’t go far without Nezuko!”

As Tanjirou charged out the room looking for his sister, Giyuu raised his hand in farewell. Now that Tanjirou mentioned it, Giyuu hadn’t spoken much with Urokodaki either. He wanted to tell him about how he and Tanjirou fought together, especially against Upper Moon Three. How even without Tanjirou using Water Breath, his skills had been outstanding. They had together taken the things Urokodaki taught them and tied it forward to the future, like Sabito would have wanted. If the things that demon said were correct, then the Water Hashira that demon had killed might have been Urokodaki’s predecessor, and they had avenged him as well as Rengoku.  

At least, Giyuu told himself these were the things he wanted to say, since this was still all he was allowed to mention.

The door of the lab creaked open. “Neesan?”

Shinobu looked up from the microscope. “Yes?”

Kanao walked in, this now being as much her space as Shinobu’s, so they found no reason for her to knock. She was carrying a thick, familiar book. “Yushirou-san let me have this.”

“Ara, Tamayo-san’s notes! I’m surprised he was willing to part with that.”

“He hoped I’d find use for it.”

“You and not we? Well, I suppose he did never like me.”

Kanao frowned. “On my own, I can’t… make out her handwriting…” So saying, she presented the book to Shinobu with two hands. “The words I could read… I can’t understand them.”

“That’s unsurprising. She was writing notes for someone with centuries of knowledge, not for someone who started weeks ago. Let’s take a look together—ara—who might that familiar face be?”

A white snake slithered out of Kanao’s collar and hovered in the air while looking Shinobu in the eyes, as though greeting her. At this, Kanao smiled easily. “Shinazugawa-san brought him for me last night.”

“And he didn’t even say hello? That’s so like Shinazugawa-san to drop by and do something nice before you can do something nice back. Hello, Kaburamaru,” she said, extending her hand for the snake to sniff, but then it wrapped itself around her arm to slither over to her shoulder. It always seemed like that snake wanted to do that before, but never would have left Iguro’s shoulders to do so. She let the snake do as he pleased while Kanao opened the notebook and pointed to words she was able to parse, but was unable to render any meaning from, even after having looked through dictionaries. Shinobu nodded to herself, then began teaching. “This is from when we were making a special medicine for the progenitor of demons. We never did manage to stop his regenerative abilities, but we did figure out how to make his cells age.”

“That slowed his regeneration down.”

“Correct. Actually, human cells do similar things. They’re filled with codes for everything they do, including healing. The codes can get harder to read as they get older, but demons never have that problem. Here, take a look at the sample you got from Tomioka-san. You dyed them well, so the parts of the cells are very easy to see.”

Shinobu moved out of the way, and Kanao peaked into the eyepiece of the microscope. She moved her head around to get the best pocket of her vision, then wordlessly observed.

“It may be hard to tell unless you look at healthy cells first,” Shinobu went on. “Maybe you’ll see what I mean if you compare them to your own cells, since you never needed the mark. These ones look tired, like they’ve lost their codes for healing. Like it got burned or oxidized right off.”

“Oxidized?”

“Like they got exposed to too much oxygen. But then again, maybe anyone with Breath technique has a little of that problem? Now I’m curious to sample everyone and compare.” And how about the child in her belly? Was it doing anything like Breathing inside of her, and how much faster had its heart been pumping than hers? How many of those codes had its body written before her body activated the mark?

Shinobu’s thoughts were interrupted by Kaburamaru nuzzling his face against her abdomen. She verbalized her surprise with a little ‘ara’ and her attention brought downward, and Kanao’s glance followed.

“Ah—I’m sorry,” Kanao said and pulled the snake back, feeling responsible for her new companion’s behavior.

“Snakes do have a very good sense of smell. I suppose I can’t hide anything now, can I?” Shinobu sighed with a smile.

Kanao beamed. “You’re going to tell everyone now?”

“Tell everyone what, Kanao?”

“…”

Kanao didn’t need her vision to know exactly what smile was plastered on Shinobu’s face. Her heart had no words to answer the question, so Kanao turned red as a Nichirin blade and as sweaty as the hands that would grip one.

“Ka-na-o?”

“I’m going to help with laundry,” she said and made a quick exit.

Sure enough, Urokodaki was back. Giyuu ran into him in the hallway. With the red tengu mask pointed straight at him, Giyuu raised his hand in greeting. “Sensei.”

“Giyuu. There you are.”

“Yes. I’ve been up and about.”

“I have something to ask you.”

There was something heavy in Urokodaki’s tone. Giyuu straightened his back and stood firmly, lowering his voice as he replied. “What is it?”

“When I was asked to stay with Nezuko, I was told that Tanjirou achieved something called a mark, something that came from his Breath technique.”

“Yes. You might not had been told of it when you were the Water Hashira. Amane-sama only informed us at the last Hashira Meeting before the battle.”

“Did you get this mark, Giyuu?”

“Yes.”

The old man took a large step backwards, and a hand shot under his mask to his mouth. It rattled Giyuu to see Urokodaki so shaken, but his own feet were weighted in place. Urokodaki had to have already known what getting the mark meant.

“It was the only way," Giyuu said. "We all were willing to do whatever it took to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. Even before that, Hashira like Tokitou were willing to give their life. Even Ko—”

“Giyuu, I’ll live to see that day. You’re going to be the first child I bury.”

With his throat in knots, Giyuu’s heart plummeted, and his feet still wouldn’t budge. There was nothing he could say or do to stop Urokodaki’s voice from sounding so weak and sad.

A smooth, feminine voice interrupted them. “Tomioka-san may have one of his own, soon.”

Urokodaki turned on his heels to see Shinobu smiling up at him. Her diminutive form was completely hidden from Giyuu’s view until that point. When he spotted that glassy look in her eyes, Giyuu’s stomach churned with anger at her for saying such a thing; talking about burying their own child would only make this worse.

For the old man, however, it had a distracting effect. “You startled me. I could hardly even remember you were his wife with you calling him that—” he said, then stopped as Shinobu framed the roundness of her belly with her hands to draw his attention to how soon she was talking about. Urokodaki took another step backwards, this time toward Giyuu, who reached out to steady him. The nose of the tengu mask peaked over his shoulder. “You have a child?”

Giyuu’s feet then moved with the same fluidity as always as he stepped over to Shinobu’s side, then put his hand on her belly. “Yes. We will in July.”

“Like Tanjirou.”

“Yes.”

“By July,” Shinobu added.

“Does Tanjirou know yet?”

“You’re the first we’ve told.”

“I see. I see,” the old man said behind his mask. The nose of it bumped both their heads as Urokodaki pulled them close, patting their backs. “Treasure each other,” he whispered over the crackle in his throat, “with every chance you still have.”

They were interrupted by footsteps bounding down the hallway.

“There he is! Urokodaki-saaaaan!”

“Giyuu-saaan! Shinobu-saaaaan!”

Shinobu gracefully stepped backwards to let the old man take the blow of the Kamado hugs. “I’d never guess you were still in a coma so recently,” she said to Tanjirou. “I’m glad you’re recovering so well.”

“Of course! That’s thanks to—oh!—Urokodaki-san, are you crying?”

Giyuu gave Shinobu a look to see if she would take this chance to tell them too, but she slipped her arm around her husband's and tugged at him to come along. He frowned and followed, and as they walked, Shinobu’s hand found its way into his, and they laced their fingers.

When out of range of anyone else hearing or seeing, Giyuu shot her a look and said, “You were going to make that worse, announcing it like that.”

“Did I, though?”

“He may not have picked up on it.”

“I’m sure he did, or he’ll put the pieces together later on.”

“You didn’t tell him you had the mark either.”

“Did you want me to make it worse?”

“Did you plan to keep your death a secret?”

“…”

“…”

“It’s a lot to tell people all at one time, Tomioka-san. At least most everyone else already knows that much.”

“We’re not getting much better at talking, are we?”

“No, I suppose not. How about we just get it all out of the way, then? Announce the baby today instead of waiting until we know more to say about it.”

Giyuu brimmed with a smiled. “Like whether it’s a boy or a girl?”

“No, I meant… well, you’re right. I suppose there’s bound to be more announcements later. Just one bit at a time.”

With this decided, they set about composing a formal letter to Kiriya and sisters. Giyuu read it over Shinobu’s shoulder as she committed it to paper with a brush, all the while asking him how he liked the sound of different felicitous phrases. Neither one of them felt it was easy to envision what words would please the children; in the end, the letter was stilted and basic. Nothing like how Shinobu’s hand used to flow with a mind of its own when writing to Kagaya.

The letter was entrusted to En, for Kanzaburou was retired, and next came gathering the girls. Since Shinobu had stolen the pleasure of telling Urokodaki, she told Giyuu he could tell them however he liked.

“Kochou is pregnant,” he stated plainly.

“WAAAAH—”

“She’s due in—”

“You’re having a baby!?”

The three little ones were ecstatic—or at least they started that way, until they all started sobbing, which Giyuu found overwhelming and Shinobu accepted with resignation. They were only children, after all, and feelings were big and overwhelming, even happy ones. That was something eternal, even into adulthood.

It made her feel some regret for how mature these girls had been forced to be while in service to the Corp that raised them. They didn’t have the Corp anymore; they didn’t have to be so strong and stoic. Kanae never would have wanted them to have to grow up so fast. Leaving them to act as small adults was another convenience Shinobu would have to spend her remaining years making amends for; she had to guard Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho's childhoods in a different way now. Now that she thought about it, though, she felt as clueless about children as about babies.

“C—hic!—congratulations,” Sumi sniffled.

“We’ll take really good care of you,” said Kiyo.

“And the baby,” said Naho.

In unison, they added, “Please let us help you name it!!”

“There’s no rush on that,” Aoi jutted in, not wanting to the derail good news with serious matters that were bound to come—the name was only one issue among many she had already been churning around her mind the instant she heard the announcement. Aoi, mature beyond her years before she ever set foot in the Butterfly Mansion, placed her hands on the tatami and bowed her head. “Congratulations, Shinobu-sama, Tomioka-sama. We’ll all do our very best to help with the infant. Far in the future as well, you don’t need to… worry…” she trailed off, feeling the mistake on her lips as salty as the tears in her eyes.

Kanao placed her hand on top of Aoi’s, but her smile and gaze were on Shinobu. “Because we’re going to find that future together.” At that moment, Giyuu couldn’t even tell if Kanao could see what was right in front of her, for her eyes were so hazy and white. Kaburamaru slithered out from her collar, flicking his tongue as if to tell Giyuu not to worry about that, or the future Kanao promised.

They would have to think of girls’ names, too, Giyuu thought.

Giyuu’s thoughts were interrupted by thumping steps punctuated with ‘ow, ow, ow, ow!’ which got closer and closer like a train, and then the doors of the living room flew open. There stood Zenitsu in pajamas, his eyes as big as freshly cracked eggs. “SHINOBU-SAN IS WITH CHILD!?”

“How fast did you run over here on those legs!?” Aoi snapped back.

“How did you even hear all the way over in the hospital?” gasped Naho.

Zenitsu’s voice carried well, so he was soon followed by a couple others who had been summoned by the news. Nezuko poked her face around, her eyes bright. “You’re having a baby?” she beamed.

Tanjirou appeared just as soon, his one living eye filled with enough joy to make up for the dead one. “Waaaah! Shinobu-san! Giyuu-san! That’s wonderful news!”

“A—a-a-a-are you alright?” asked Zenitsu. “Does it—it doesn’t hurt you or anything, right?”

“She looks like she’s glowing to me,” Nezuko assured him, tugging him by the hand to enter the living room with them instead of standing on ceremony in the hallway. Zenitsu kneeled sandwich between Shinobu and Nezuko, while Tanjirou kneeled next to Giyuu.

Shinobu smiled politely. “Thank you all. I’m fine for now. It will hurt later.”

Zenitsu cringed and went pale, but the Kamado siblings looked as happy and accustomed to the matter as though waiting for their own sibling.

“How far along are you?”

“Sniff, sniff—already pretty far! You’ll have the baby in summer, won’t you, Shinobu-san?”

“How exciting! That’s soon!”

“Astounding how you can tell in such detail, Tanjirou-kun.”

“Ah!—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy!”

Giyuu only knew what it felt like to anticipate his own child, he couldn’t imagine what anticipating a new sibling felt like. If that was how Tanjirou and Nezuko felt, then perhaps they would feel strange to hear their own name used for the baby. Maybe he should give up on using those, or make sure to consult them first.

No one seemed to notice Inosuke at first. He approached the door with his mouth full of snacks, and he was so still and quiet that one might worry he was unwell. Once Shinobu felt his big eyes locked on her, she couldn’t look away. “Inosuke-kun.”

He swallowed the rest of the food in his mouth so he could speak. “You’re going to have a baby?”

“Yes.”

“It’s gonna be real weak. Babies are like that.”

 “…Yes, I know.”

“They can’t do anything. You’re going to have to carry it around, and chew its food for it and everything.”

“Yes. I know.”

“I bet—I bet you’re going to have to hold it all the time, and play with its little pinky fingers, and sing to it…”

Shinobu had a guess why he was getting worked up. “Inosuke-kun, come here.”

Inosuke was obedient, and he stomped inside the living room to plop himself down on the floor at her side, squeezing in between her and Giyuu. The king of the forest stared back at Shinobu with a grunt, and the green in his irises stuck out against how red the whites of his eyes were getting.

“You’re right. This is a weak little baby. That’s why I’m glad there are strong people like you around to look after them. All of you,” she said with a look around the room, then back to Inosuke. “You saved this little one’s life once before, you know that? Just like your mother saved you. She must be so proud of you.”

So saying, she placed Inosuke’s hand against her belly. Inosuke’s eyes were red and puffy, and he clenched his quivering lips tight.

Giyuu frowned. He better not—

Inosuke’s tight lips parted and his eyes glimmered. “It moved! It touched my hand!”

“Like saying hello and thanking you.”

“Well it should thank me! It’s still—it’s still so little—” he cut himself off, for his eyes had started leaking tears. Before another instant passed, Inosuke was crying like he was the little one, and Shinobu rubbed his head and cooed at him.

Giyuu frowned deeper, for despite his many attempts, he had not gotten to feel his child move yet. He was determined not to name the baby after Inosuke.

“Why not ‘Kanao’?”

“What about Kanao?”

Giyuu had approached the subject when they found a moment alone that afternoon. “Naming the baby after her. She’s also the child’s savior.”

“No,” Shinobu replied. “It sounds too much like ‘Kanae.’ The reason why this child went through all this.”

Shinobu trailed off, busy with apologies in her heart, and pleas for her sister not to be eager to meet this child on the other side.

Giyuu was not aware of the latter reason for her silence but had a guess about the former. “If we can't use your sister's name, then I don’t want to use ‘Tsutako’ either. It wouldn’t be fair. ‘Nezuko’ might be nice, but we should ask her opinion on using it.”

“CAAAAW! TAN-JI-ROOOU,” came a call from the window, and both spouses jumped. Kanzaburou had been sleeping so quietly that they only thought they were alone. When the bird dosed back off, they turned their attention to each other.

The interruption had given Shinobu a chance to be delicate. “Or we could pick something we like,” she said, with some hint of poison in her words. “What is it about the Kamado children’s names you like so much? You have to tell me, or I won’t understand. I’ll listen.”

Giyuu had to think about that. He thought back to that moment, now over three years ago, when the Kamado siblings both left such an impression on him that this would be the change in an endless fight. The snow was so freshly fallen; it added to the chill in his memory from when Nezuko had defied all Giyuu knew by defending her fallen brother. “When I met them, it felt like the world was starting pure and anew.”

“You’re going to have to use more words than that.”

Giyuu had already said what left an impression on him, though. He had nothing to add, so he did not.

Shinobu would have to run with it. “They really are very pure hearted, aren’t they? We could stand to learn a lot from them, and maybe we’ll find ourselves anew. How about… Shirako?”

It brought the sight of that snowy day back to Giyuu all at once, and the ring of it squeezed his heart. It was a similar ring to Tsutako or Nezuko, it had the ‘shi’ in it like the baby’s mother’s name. He immediately had his heart set on something that sounded like that. “That’s very nice,” he said.

“Isn’t it?”

“Written as ‘white’ and ‘child,’ isn’t it?”

“Yes. They’re very small.”

Like their mother, he smiled.

“And nutritious.”

That did not sound right anymore. “This isn’t ‘whitebait,’ is it?”

“That’s shirasu,” she corrected him with a poke and smile. She did not add that ‘shirako’ was in reference to soft roe, a delicacy of fish sperm as opposed to any tiny white fish themselves. “Speaking of names, I’ve decided to no longer go by Kochou. That was my professional name in the Corp, but it’s disbanded now. There’s no reason I shouldn’t go by ‘Tomioka.’”

“Alright,” he said.

“So you shouldn’t call me ‘Kochou’ anymore either, got it, Gi~yuu~sa~n?”

“Alright,” he replied. She didn’t have to poke him about it, but she was poking him anyway. It was annoying and Giyuu wanted out of this conversation.

An hour or so went by until Giyuu had to get her attention for something. “What do you want for dinner, Shinobu?”

She flushed pink and covered her hot face, leaning away from him like she was terribly embarrassed. Even her ears were red. What was so embarrassing about dinner? Shinobu was a weird one sometimes.

Not even a week later, the weather got uncomfortably warm.

Giyuu already didn’t like hot weather, but now he had to deal with Shinobu poking and annoying him and insisting they should have planned a child for winter instead. As if the weather and timing was all his fault.

“What’s up, love bugs!” came a loud voice from outside, and a whistle.

It was soon followed by a second whistle, and the sound of lips sputtering and failing to whistle, all on the other side of the front door. “I can’t do it,” whined one woman’s voice, while another woman’s voice laughed.

A third woman’s voice said, “Pardon the intrusion. We came to offer our congratulations,” and then the door slid open to reveal a flashy family of former ninja.

Inside, the person on the other side of the door was Aoi. She was stone-faced. Since it was not the person who Uzui expected, his face betrayed surprise. “You’re not Kochou,” he said.

“No.”

“Which one were you again?”

Aoi kept her comments to herself and politely led them to the living room, then excused herself to prepare snacks. This was both to busy herself and to leave other people busy with Uzui instead. At the table, Shinobu smiled politely, and Giyuu’s face was as it usually was. Uzui alone, Giyuu felt he could deal with, but Uzui emboldened by his wives was more overwhelming, and it was hard to find any place to fit a word into the conversation.

“I really can’t believe you beat me to it, Tomioka! Who even knew you had it in you?”

“Insect Hashira-sama sure did.”

“Or in her—”

“We’re very happy for you. The timing is amazing, too.”

“Yeah. You guys couldn’t even wait until you were retired?”

“Tengen-sama, maybe we shouldn’t have waited. Then maybe we all could have had babies first!”

“I swear, you three all keep me busier than demons ever did. Guess the same could be said for two Hashira married to each other too, must have kept each other busy a-a-all the time. I thought you were more responsible than that, Kochou.”

“It’s ‘Tomioka’ now—” Giyuu squeezed in.

“Oooooh!” four voices hooted in their own respective tones and volumes.

“I’m happy for you. Really, really happy for you,” Uzui reiterated, chewing on every word behind a salesman’s smile. “When Kiriya-sama told us, old chap Rengoku even got all misty-eyed. Way to flamboyantly steal my thunder, Tomioka.”

“You have Sound Breathing, not Thunder—”

“It was very nice of you to come all this way,” Shinobu acknowledged when she finally got a word in. It summoned the women’s attention to her.

“How are you feeling?”

“Did you get sick? I hope I won’t.”

“Do you have any advice for conceiving?”

“Do you even have room for a whole baby in there? You’re even smaller than Tengen-sama always said you were.”

“How far along were you in battle?”

“The baby wasn’t hurt, right?”

Shinobu’s plaster smile cracked, and Giyuu spoke before he was aware of his lips moving. “We’ll know more when Shinobu delivers. Leave her be.”

The ladies were quiet. The severity of the question made them turn red with shame and huddle together, and even Uzui shot them a warning look. A second later, however, they recovered, and everyone could hear one whisper to the other two, “He calls her by her name.”

“They really are married.”

“I told you Tengen-sama wasn’t playing a joke on us.”

Notwithstanding his wives’ breech of decorum, Uzui was more surprised by the rise it got out of Giyuu. The flamboyant former Sound Hashira’s smile turned soft and genuine, and his voice had a warm timbre as he stretched his arm across the table to pat Giyuu’s shoulder. “That’s good. I see you’re taking good care of her. You must have been worried all this time, too.”

“…”

“It’ll be alright. Madame Tomioka has a safe child-bearing ass.”

Shinobu’s smile cracked right back into place, and if anyone possessed thunder, it was her.

The weather was warmer and warmer, and Shinobu’s walk turned to a waddle. As she complained about the heat and the weight she had to carry around, her pokes were as fast as Insect Breath ever was, and just as forceful. Sooner or later Giyuu felt he should be worried for his ribs.

Urokodaki had moved back to his mountain, and week by week, En delivered wooden baby toys. Tanjirou and his cohort had also moved back to their own mountain, but they regularly came back to visit and receive health check-ups. Although Giyuu had no idea where Shinazugawa lived, he appeared here and there as he liked, but never with enough warning for Giyuu to prepare any ohagi.

The Kamado and Shinazugawa visits sometimes overlapped, and Giyuu treated them with whatever goodies the girls had on hand. They were always prepared for guests. That included trays to put the tea and snacks on.

“Careful, Tomioka,” Shinazugawa cautioned him.

“Do you want some help with that?” offered Tanjirou.

“No, I’ve got it. Ah, I forgot the honey—”

As though the thought of an extra jar of weight was enough to unbalance it, Giyuu dropped the tray, dishes and all. The cups went harmlessly bouncing across the tatami, but the hot tea would have soaked into the mats entirely if Tanjirou and Shinazugawa hadn’t both swooped in to start dabbing it up.

Rather than ‘sorry’ or ‘thank you,’ Giyuu remarked, “You’re both good at cleaning.”

Shinazugawa’s forehead throbbed with irritation, but Tanjirou smiled up at him. “You get fast at cleaning up spills when there’s little kids around! I’m sure you’ll get practice.”

“It’ll just be a baby at first, so I guess that means I have time.”

“You can’t keep that attitude for long,” snapped Shinazugawa. “They’ll put anything in their mouths. Stuff you’d never believe.”

“Right! And they can pull heavy things over that can hurt them.”

Giyuu’s eyes went wide. “As babies?”

“Yes,” they both answered him with severity in their tones.

“I don’t have the experience with babies that you do. Can I ask you both a serious question?”

Shinazugawa and Tanjirou shot each other a glance, then looked back up at Giyuu.

“Anything.”

“Shoot.”

“When will the baby be strong enough for me to hold it?”

“…pardon?”

Giyuu raised his empty left hand. “I can’t hold it with only one arm, right? I heard you have to support its head.”

“Um…”

“But that can’t be all. You have to support more than just the head, since its body can’t do anything else at first. In normal cases, when will the baby be strong enough that I can hold it too?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Have you ever even seen a baby—”

“It’s alright, Giyuu-san! If you’re careful, you can hold them as soon as they’re born. Like this,” Tanjirou illustrated with his remaining arm bent. “Their head will be stable at your elbow.”

Giyuu’s eyes betrayed some surprise at this new understanding. “I see. Thank you. I’ll go put on more tea.”

When Giyuu shut the door behind him, Shinazugawa lowered his voice. “Hey. Kamado.”

“Yes?”

“You realize it’s up to us, right? One of us is always going to have to be here to make sure nothing stupid happens.”

“Er, well,” he struggled, “I was already thinking of having Nezuko stay here to help out a while. At least Shinobu-san—”

“I trust Shinobu even less. She said she wants to start potty training at four months.”

“Eh!? The baby won’t even be able to walk! Much less sit up!”

“Exactly.”

Tanjirou’s face scrunched with worry, and then he solemnly nodded.

“Besides,” Shinazugawa added, his glance to the window, “That kid might never walk. Even if the kid turns out fine, Tomioka’s my age. There’s no telling if ‘25’ is supposed to be counting age like now or like back in the Sengoku period. They won’t even remember Shinobu at that rate.”

“You say that like the mark doesn’t affect you too. There might be some hope, you know. With what we know now about cells and medicine, Kanao said she wants to find a way to teach our cells to overcome it. I don’t understand all the details, but it’s like Nezuko’s cells teaching my body overcome Muzan’s cells.”

“Or like that demon-like regeneration we all had when we had the mark, I know. Kanao’s already bugged me for samples. I don’t need it. I’m fine just watching over things a little longer. See Kiriya-sama and his sisters grow up, things like that.”

“Nothing is ever certain. There’s always an end to happiness… but what Nezuko would say is that what’s important is the here and now. Let’s be happy for them,” Tanjirou finished, his voice fading to a whisper as Giyuu returned to the room.

The weather got uncomfortably warmer—downright hot and muggy. Giyuu had learned to stand out of Shinobu’s reach when she looked especially cross. He also knew better than to accuse her of acting like a 14-year-old, so he was back to a habit of not talking much.

The Ubuyashiki children presented priceless works of art like hanging scrolls with auspicious phrases, Tecchikawahara Tecchin came all the way from the Swordsmith Village to present a commemorative sword, the former Flame Hashira and his son sent an absurdly large amount of sweet potatoes to accompany a formal letter of congratulations, and even the owners of the Wisteria Mansion where Giyuu and Shinobu had spent their wedding night sent celebratory sake. Giyuu was not sure how any of this made for applicable baby gifts. While other former Kakushi whom Giyuu had trouble recognizing bubbled with excited congratulations, when they he and Shinobu ran into Gotou again and told him the news, he seemed as blasé as though he had been told the sky was blue.

The blue skies of June were turning a numb grey with the rainy season.

Shinobu’s clothes didn’t fit anymore, and she ached all over, and the scars down her left shoulder were pulled and stressed. It hurt, and being in pain was hard to hide.

Keeping up a smile was annoying anyway and she hated all this fuss. Now that everyone could feel the baby kicking—rude little thing, not giving her other organs any break, especially not her ailing lung—she had to be patient with many hands on her at once. At least Kanao and the little girls took turns and Aoi would only do it when she was encouraged to, but whenever those four came to visit, they all couldn’t help themselves. It was the first thing they’d do—right away, all at once, the moment they poured through the door. Zenitsu’s hands were sweaty, too. But seeing all the light in their eyes, Shinobu didn’t feel she could snap at them to stop.

Giyuu only had half the chances to feel the baby kick, not because he only had one hand to dart in to try to take those chances, but because his timing was terrible. Shinobu did her best to help him out by telling him when she was being pounded and beaten from the inside, but the baby was a little bully and stayed still every time Giyuu placed his hand on her. If it weren’t so hot Shinobu would have told Giyuu to stay there all the time. In all her what-ifs, she fantasized about telling him to carry the kid around for a while so she could have a break.

Aoi and Kanao were constantly annoying her to check her blood pressure and iron levels. She could do that herself. Besides, Shinobu’s eyesight was fine. She could study her own cells to identify signs of the wear and tear of the mark, and she could do her own reading on birth defects and developmental illnesses. She had her list of every condition to be prepared for, and all she needed the girls to do was be ready to follow her instructions.

Shinobu knew better than anyone what condition she was in. Her body probably wouldn’t wait out until July, and she couldn’t even be happy about it.

Keeping busy kept the anxiety away. She hated it when people told her to rest, because no amount of telling her that would help. She couldn’t sleep with that lump crushing her. And even when she did—

“AAAAH!!”

“Shinobu!”

She gasped and opened her eyes to see Giyuu’s face over her.

“You had another night terror,” he said, his voice so cool that it provided some relief from the humid summer air.

“It’s hard to sleep like this,” she groaned.

Since she was already trying, Giyuu helped her to sit up, and then handed her a glass of water. After that was settled, he slid his futon against the wall, then guided her by the hand to go sit on it. “If it’s not too hot, you can lean against me.”

“My, what a pillar of support,” she obliged, smiling as she settled against his chest. Sitting up made her feel much better. “Talk with me a bit.”

“I’ll listen.”

“I think I saw Kanroji-san this time. In my dreams.”

“She would be as eager to meet the baby as anyone.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Sometimes I still see my parents, and Kanae, but lately I keep seeing Himejima-san and the other Hashira. Oyakata-sama and Amane-sama; so many other Corp members. Even Tamayo-san chiding me to take care of myself with the time that’s left. I’ve asked Kanae to stay away, but…”

“Why would you do that? Wouldn’t she want to see the baby too?”

“That’s the problem. It’s like they’re all too eager to welcome the baby over to that side.”

None of them would want that, Giyuu felt. He hadn’t seen them since he had been in a coma, but when Tsutako and Sabito appeared in his dreams there, their presence felt vivid like visitations. Could reuniting with people he loved be anything but uplifting? There was some sense that they were free now, their will in the world finally settled.

Now that he thought about it, Giyuu had not put on his haori in months, despite Nezuko’s hard work on it. Nezuko sometimes appeared in Giyuu’s hazy dreams—almost as much as Tanjirou did. He couldn’t recall ever seeing Shinazugawa, but who had he just seen recently? Someone familiar, who had it been?

“Oh,” he said once it hit him, “Murata would probably like to meet the baby too.”

“Murata-san? That Water Breath user with the shiny hair, right?”

“Yes. I owe your life to him, too.”

“What was his name, again?”

“…”

Aside from not remembering, Giyuu was lost in his memories of the sight of Shinobu in the Infinity Fortress, with such a frail hold on life that Murata had to hold it for her. It still stung that she ever decided to put an end to it. As much as it stung that this ever happened, the gratitude still that she remained—for however much longer that would be—still outweighed any other feeling.

If he ever found the words to say how much it hurt, there would still be time to say them. Nothing seemed too scary to say now, as long as he could trust her to say everything and anything too. Someday, he’d rightfully ask for his turn to ‘punish’ her back, once she was ready for it. Or would that be unwise? Any attempt Giyuu had ever made at being playful in the past didn’t work out well. He would have to tread carefully, going into this new battleground of his marriage.

Not hearing a word of such thoughts, Shinobu snuggled against him. “I know everyone’s excited, but I wish they’d stop.”

“Mn,” he agreed. He closed his eyes and settled more comfortably against the wall. Years of catching patches of sleep on the road made him good at sleeping however necessary. It would probably be a good skill in their upcoming nightly missions.

“Nee, Giyuu-san.”

He opened his eyes. “What is it?”

“Talk with me.”

“I’ll listen,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“I wish everyone would stop placing all their hope on this baby.”

“I don’t want to share the baby much either.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t want to give them more heartbreak. It’s time we stop playing… stop dreaming. We have a child who might be hurt, and who’s doomed to be an orphan.”

Giyuu’s heart dropped. He knew all of that, but at that moment, what he wished he had most was his right hand so that he could reach over and comfort her. Holding her hand in their special way had always comforted her before, but now all he had were clumsy words. “Letting go is the nature of things. But, even if that’s true, our will is already bound to this child’s future. We’ve already granted them a world without demons.”

“Sometimes I wish we were still Hashira. If I could still call myself that, I could still feel brave. We had the Demon Slayer Corp to uphold, so we had to.”

“Even if we don’t wield swords anymore, we have someone to protect. We’ll be parents, first and foremost.”

Shinobu cuddled into him as drowsiness finally came for her. “For now, let’s just be spouses.”

Chapter Text

Dear Atsugi,

Hello! It's me, Kamado Tanjirou!

How have you been since I last saw you? Are you keeping warm? It will still be a little while until springtime, so your Uncle Inosuke wanted you to have some charcoal he made. He’s gotten very good at it, and he has reason to be proud of it! Your Auntie Nezuko made you a new coat, since you’re growing so fast that you must need a new one already.

Your Uncle Zenitsu says that I owe you an apology, since you were upset with me for making Auntie Kanao cry. I’ll bet she’s the one reading this letter to you, so hello, Kanao! Atsugi, you might still be angry at me, but your daddy asked me to write this letter to you, and I always try do my best to keep promises to him, so that is what I’m doing.

Let me start by congratulating you on your new baby sister! I heard you aren’t very happy about her yet, but I’m sure you’ll like Shirako very soon. She’s going to be so important to you, once you get used to her. That might take some time, though.

I heard that she was born just like you, with ten fingers and ten little toes, and a nose like your daddy and a chin like your mommy. But unlike when you were a baby, Shirako was born with lots of black hair to keep her head warm. My baby sister Nezuko did too, and she was also born on a snowy day! It seems I’m unusual for remembering those kinds of details well, so I thought you’d like to have this letter to look back on someday. I heard she was born on a very sunny morning, so all the snow at the Butterfly Mansion was as bright as the sun. You were born early, but Shirako took her time, didn’t she? When I last saw your mommy at the birthday party, she said your little sibling must have been holding back to make sure your daddy would live past his 25th birthday.

Did you know that you helped him to have that birthday? We’re all very grateful! It’s a little complicated, but this is the story Kanao told me. You’ve heard some of it from Nezuko when you two get poked with needles together.

You see, your mommy and daddy, and me, and Kanao, and Inosuke and Zenitsu and even Nezuko, so many people who care about you and wanted to make the world a safe place for you, we were all in a terrible battle one night. You were there, too. You were very small, though—so small that no one knew you were there, fighting your own battle inside your mommy’s tummy. When she learned about you later, she was afraid you might have been hurt or sick. We all were. When you were born, you were the smallest baby I had ever seen, but that made your daddy very happy because he could fit you snug in his one arm.

You grew fast, but your mommy was still very worried. One day she looked at your cells. Those are tiny living pieces of you. She knew how her cells and your daddy’s cells were hurt, so she wanted to see if yours looked like that too. They didn’t! She was relieved, but then she was curious to see what parts of your cells were like hers, and which ones were like your daddy’s. She was very proud of making you, after all. Just as proud as she is now about having made little Shirako! I know Shirako needs a lot of your mommy’s care because she’s so little, but your mommy still loves you just as much—even more than you can imagine! That’s why she wanted to know all about you.

Kanao can explain this better than I can, but your little cells were strong, and they knew how to teach your mommy and daddy’s cells how to get stronger too. That’s why Nezuko always tells you how brave and strong you are when you let your mommy poke you with needles. That’s how your mommy can make medicine, and that’s why we all threw your daddy such a big birthday party.

Maybe that doesn’t make sense! I should stick to what I’m better at talking about, shouldn’t I? That’s why your daddy asked me to write to you, after all. I’m sort of surprised he asked, since I was never any good at trying to teach him anything. But you’re facing a new experience that your daddy and mommy never did—you’re a big brother!

So that’s why he wanted me to give you advice, since he’s worried you’re having a tough time. It’s a big change, isn’t it? It’s alright to feel sad about not being the baby anymore, but you were already growing big and strong. The way you feel about your baby sister will probably change too. No matter how you think of your family, there will always be changes. For every happiness, it will always have an end. Change is the only way new happiness can come.

I didn’t get the chance to explain to you why I made Kanao cry that day. I was too surprised when you came and kicked me—with that mask you were running around in, I thought a real boar had charged into the room! I know you’ll be upset with me for this because Kanao is one of your favorite people, but I will be taking her into my home as my bride. We’re both very happy about it, even though the changes will make some people sad. (Inosuke and Zenitsu will be happy to complain about me with you. They don’t like that they need to find new places to live.)

The happiness of marriage might be sort of hard to understand. A lot of grown-ups have trouble understanding it too. Learning to love a sibling is easy, though, and I promise that before you know it, you’ll be very happy to have Shirako around. Just like mommys and daddys have a special feeling, brothers and sisters have a special feeling all their own. It’s like how you and your Grandpa Sakonji have a special bond too!

Here’s another Taisho Secret—did you know that when they were first married, your mommy and daddy had another special way they cared about each other? They were very amazing, impressive people called “Hashira.” How about the next time I see you, I tell you all about it? Just you and me! It’s a promise, if you show me how good you’ve gotten at taking care of your baby sister!

Always remember, no matter what happens, that everyone—especially your mommy and daddy—love you so much.

Your Uncle,
Kamado Tanjirou

P.S. – Kanao, I’m looking forward to spending special time with you too. I love you and would tell the whole world with my loudest Breath, and I can’t wait to be married!

That is the official end of the fic. Even though I committed the fluffy word crime of giving them a sappy ending, you’re still reading, so that probably means you’ll forgive me for some fluffy birth story and parenting headcanons, reflected in words in addition to doodles because my handwriting is messy. Since this AU started with silly doodles, it only seemed right to end it the same way.

--Right up until Atsugi was born, Shinobu was thinking of him as Giyuu's baby and her patient. She went over the birth plan with Aoi and Kanao like it was a battle plan. She told Giyuu to stay out of the room so she could focus, so Giyuu dutifully stayed in the next room over, and Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho stayed ready to run errands at a moment’s notice. Shinobu didn’t take well to Aoi trying to coach her through labor. The moment Atsugi was out Shinobu took him to count his fingers and toes and listen to his breathing and heart. The stethoscope was cold, so the baby screamed louder, and it was as she found herself cooing and comforting him that it hit Shinobu that this was her baby too, and the relief that he initially looked ok and the wave of maternal hormones made her stop thinking straight, especially about her own care. Kanao and Aoi had to pry him out of her hands to clean him up, suddenly hand him to Giyuu to hold, and then hurriedly tend to Shinobu, who was passing out. Giyuu was so overtaken with wonder that he never had any idea that Aoi and Kanao were in panic mode for a few minutes, and they forever intend to keep it that way.

--Atsugi was really tiny; he’s easy for Giyuu to hold in one arm.

--Even though they need some instructions on the finer points of how diapers work and such, Giyuu and Shinobu both get the hang of being attentive parents pretty well. The lovey-dovey caretaking hormones hit them hard. Giyuu melts at every newborn sound, the baby sneezes just kill Shinobu, they are so weak that every demon they ever slayed is looking on from hell and cannot believe these are the same people. Every cute headcanon you have in mind? Sure, it happens. Although the people around them remain cautious because they recall the sort of oblivious things that these two have said about babies before, neither Giyuu or Shinobu have any recollection of being so dumb about how babies work.

--They are used to nighttime Hashira work so they aren't that bothered by interrupted sleep. There was a night early on that Giyuu just faded back into a state of wonder while staring at his screaming son, so he was oblivious to Shinobu's demands that he hand over the screaming son so she can feed him.

--That said, they are both severely injured individuals, so they get a lot of help from the Butterfly Mansion girls. Kanao is often the one to walk the baby to sleep at night.

--Parenthood is a very happy bonding experience for Mr. and Mrs. Tomioka, so they never really get around much to “discussing their issues” until they feel more settled into a routine. The conversations are difficult for them and mainly start with apologies, but it progresses into expressing love for each other more deeply and openly—something that’s difficult still, but they do their best because they know how bad things could get if they don’t.

--Giyuu is always pestering Tanjirou and Sanemi with innocuous questions like, “How many teeth do babies get? Ok, thanks. How high can babies climb? Ok, thanks.”

--Uzui is sort of miffed that Giyuu never asks him for advice. Uzui is also still miffed that Giyuu became a father first, even if not by much.

--A lot of former Corp members invite themselves over to meet the baby. Aside from helping two ailing former Hashira take care of a newborn, the girls are constantly hosting guests. One day among a crowd of them, nobody notices as Murata gets stars in his eyes, puts a hand to his heart, and whispers, “They named him after me.”

--Aside from his parents, Baby Atsugi’s favorite person is Kanao, with Urokodaki being a close contender. The other Butterfly Mansion girls and Nezuko are comforting and familiar, Tanjirou is of course very likable, but Inosuke is the fun uncle. Zenitsu is the uncle who makes Atsugi cry when he holds him, much to Zenitsu’s consternation.

--That said, when Atsugi was still very little and not very interesting to play with, Inosuke had some jealous feelings to grapple with. He never really found a way to voice that he was feeling possessive of Shinobu and would just hang around her and pout while she cared for the baby. Shinobu was patient and understanding and helped Inosuke to warm up to the baby.

--Atsugi is on the scrawny side all the way through his toddler years. Shinobu is miffed about this.

--Starting when he’s a toddler, Atsugi has a tendency to just pop in and start chatting as things pop into his head. It sticks with him his whole life. Shinobu tries to be patient but it gets on her nerves. Giyuu loves it and is always ready to listen. There are times when toddler Atsugi follows Giyuu around like an imprinted duck. Giyuu loves it and has no recollection of Tanjirou bugging him with the same treatment.

--After figuring out that a blood relative’s cells can be used to treat their own Marked condition, Giyuu initially didn't want Atsugi to be harmed or pressured for the sake of his own life, but Nezuko (honored and relieved to be able to help Tanjirou) talked Giyuu into allowing it. Baby Atsugi of course cries when he has blood drawn, but it became routine that Nezuko would hold him and tell him each time how brave he was and give him a reward. As Atsugi understands it better and better with Nezuko’s age-appropriate explanations, he one day says he’s proud of being Daddy’s Hero, which makes Giyuu cry.

--Atsugi never gets a full explanation until he’s older, but as a little kid, he’s more aware of the Mark and the danger it poses to his parents than they think he is. Shinobu catching the flu not long before her 25^th birthday is a traumatic childhood memory for him. (Little Shirako doesn’t wind up with much recollection of it.) (*Not the Spanish Flu. I don’t feel like making them deal with that.)

--Hoping that he too can be cured, everyone starts pressuring Sanemi to settle down with someone and hurry to make a blood relative of his own. Sanemi is initially not interested, especially since he’s barely accepted having lost his only remaining family and a part of him is eager to join them, on whatever side. However, once Kiriya insists, Sanemi comes around and is open to finding some hope and happiness in this world. His first baby is very, very round, and Shinobu loves how cute Baby Shinazugawa is (and she’s low-key jealous), but Baby Shinazugawa is terrified of Shinobu because she’s the lady with the needles. (I could say more headcanons about Sanemi, but this fic ain’t about him.)

--Baby Shirako was also unplanned (it’s difficult to broach the topic when you have to assume the Mark will still win out), but Shinobu and Giyuu both low-key wanted another anyway. Since her injuries had healed more, Shinobu was determined to make this one a chubby baby, but Baby Shirako is on the scrawny side too.

--They sort of already had a girl's name picked out, but they did argue what to name a second son. Shinobu proposed her usual array, but Giyuu asked Tanjirou what the second son of the Kamado family was named. This causes Tanjirou and Nezuko to immediately misunderstand, and they get emotional thinking that the baby might be named after Takeo. That wasn't Giyuu's intention when he asked, but he and Shinobu feel stuck with having to use it if they have a second son.

--Because Shinobu is more healed and because things went so well with baby Atsugi, Shinobu gets to relax and enjoy a little more excitement with her second pregnancy (but she still finds pregnancy very uncomfortable). However, even though the cell samples look good under the microscope thanks to the medicine they develop, Shinobu is nonetheless very anxious about Giyuu’s upcoming 25^th birthday and is extra clingy with him.

--Shirako was born late, a little after Giyuu’s birthday. Shinobu had mixed feelings on the day because she was happy about this milestone for Giyuu, but tired of being pregnant. Giyuu’s allowed to be in the same room the second time she’s in labor. She’s gotten so used to being clingy with him that she wants him there.

--Shirako is a daddy’s girl, through and through. As a little kid, she can climb all over Giyuu and ask him for anything and he spoils her. If he had two hands, he would try braiding her hair, but instead he just brushes it and puts in butterfly hairclips for her. Giyuu is also weak to Atsugi, though not to as much of an extent.

--Toddler Shirako throws a tantrum one day that hurts Shinobu’s lung (not bad). Atsugi rushes to the rescue and pushes and yells at his sister, but Shinobu scolds him for it. Another sore memory for little Atsugi; he’s just trying to help. When Giyuu asks why he’s so upset, Atsugi never manages to explain, but Giyuu relates that to that and provides exactly the comfort Atsugi needs.

--Breath technique! Shinobu, being a very good teacher and a mother who takes very easily to providing motivational training applicable to toddlers, teaches both children the basics. After all, she wants them to both grow up to be big and strong. But the actual Breath style training starts when Giyuu starts training Atsugi when he’s still very small. Shinobu comes up this and asks what Giyuu is doing. Giyuu reminds her that they agreed to start Breath training by this age (in the fic they said ‘age 2’ but Giyuu’s memory changes that around to something more reasonable, like ‘age 4’). Shinobu says ‘oh’ and bids him to carry on.

--Giyuu insists on Atsugi learning Water Breath, because he still wants someone to inherit Urokodaki’s legacy. Urokodaki, who seemed like was going to stop Giyuu, is touched by this but takes over most of the teaching. As Atsugi gets older, he and Giyuu will train more together.

--Shinobu later teaches Insect Breath to Shirako, because it’s only fair that someone should inherit her legacy too.

--Atsugi took to Water Breathing like a natural. If the Corp was still a thing, everyone would assume he’d be the future Water Hashira.

--Since there are no more demons, Shirako makes conniving use of Insect Breath by becoming a fencing champion.

--When Kanao and Tanjirou announced they were getting married, Giyuu found this was only right (Tanjirou is his martial brother, so of course he should also be his brother-in-law). However, when Aoi announced her intentions to marry Inosuke, Giyuu took her aside to try to dissuade her and assure her that he’d get rid of Inosuke if he was bothering her. Nezuko foresaw Giyuu’s reaction to her engagement, so she made sure to side-step Giyuu’s reaction by cheerfully talking up how Urokodaki approved of Zenitsu (because of how Zenitsu avenged Kuwajima). Shinobu likes all the Kamaboko boys so she never took issue with any of this (aside from being surprised about Aoi’s tastes).

--Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho become teenagers right around the height of the girl-driven Taisho Roman culture, and they are heavily involved in the café and manicure scene. Little Shirako idolizes them for being so cool and pretty.

--Typically, parents bring their children to a shrine or temple to mark occasions like turning 1 month old, or 3, or 5, or 7 years old (Shichi-Go-San). Sure, maybe they do that, but the more important part is dressing the children up to pay a formal visit to the Ubuyashikis.

--As he gets older, Atsugi is a pretty well-adjusted kid with a bright and reassuring smile that rivals Tanjirou’s (but he gets it from Giyuu). Atsugi and Shinobu have a special bond because they interpret the fight against Douma as having fought together. He’s always especially mindful of Shinobu’s health. He’s a little short, but not especially so.

--As she grows older, Shirako is prone to bickering with Shinobu. When she’s old enough to understand that her name is a kind of fish egg (or rather, a sack of fish sperm, but she'll get upset about that all over again once she learns what sperm are), Giyuu walks in on the argument, coldly glares at Shinobu and asks, “You named our daughter wanting her to be eaten?” and Shinobu is silenced. Thereafter, Giyuu always tends to take Shirako’s side throughout her teen and young adult years. (Shirako gets most people to call her “Shira-chan.” She tried to get people to call her “Snow White” once she learned that story, but Atsugi-niichan made fun of her.)

--Atsugi and Shirako are constantly fighting but when it comes down to it, they’ve got each other’s backs. This was especially the case when they took home a puppy and tried to keep it secret from former-Hashira parents. In the end, Uncle Sanemi takes the puppy so they still get to visit that dog over the years. Atsugi and Shirako both have a life-long love of dogs and hold a grudge against their parents for decades over the hidden-puppy incident and how unfair it was.

--The puppy’s name was “Gotou” and Gotou wasn’t impressed. Shirako eventually gains better naming sense, Atsugi winds up kind of bad at it.

--When Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho are courting, Giyuu intends to be strict about their partners, but he’s very easily swayed when the girls say how much they like these totally normal, educated, not-at-all-swordsmanlike guys. Shinobu grills these soft guys a little more, for Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho were entrusted to her by Kanae.

--Shirako has long, straight hair like Kanae and grows up to be a stunning beauty, but somewhat spoiled and sharp-tongued. Shinobu tells her she shouldn't act so mean, but Shirako quips back that she’s not acting mean, she is mean. Giyuu doesn't look up from his newspaper as he agrees.

--Atsugi takes a passionate interest in medicine. In the very far future, he uses Shinobu and Tamayo’s research to figure out cancer cures. This is the super happy ending to this AU, so why not.

--Also, I don’t feel like sending Atsugi off to war. Instead, he has a romantic vision of defying the call to war by being a pacifist and instead going out into bombed cities with his dog to use his medical skills to save people like a mysterious hero (who also uses Water Breathing if the need arises for crashing through fallen rubble). He winds up having a life-changing encounter with Murata, who is the down-to-earth leader of a search-and-rescue team and who talks some sense into Atsugi about the nitty-gritty of saving lives. Murata is thereafter forever Atsugi’s hero.

--Shirako helps out in the Butterfly Mansion hospital and has more medical knowledge than most people do, but she’s focused on her fencing career.

--Shirako is a little bit of a bully to Atsugi’s future romantic partners, but Atsugi knows Shirako is picky enough that he doesn’t need to worry about anyone sweeping her off her feet. Giyuu automatically dislikes anyone who takes an interest in Shirako, and he’s initially dismissive of Atsugi’s partners because he assumes it’s nothing serious, and he warns Atsugi not to be a tease (which Atsugi hates, because he’s always sincere and kind, but this has a way of leading people on). Shinobu just lets both kids do their own thing when it comes to romance.

--Giyuu and Shinobu grow into an unassuming, low-key middle-aged couple that only stick out because of the missing arm and visible scars on Shinobu’s neck. Uzui finds them terribly dull. They both get elegant grey streaks in their hair and Giyuu experiments with a mustache and hats. His haori stays neatly put away as a keepsake.

--Although she relents over the years, Shinobu will poke Giyuu forever.