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Chapter Text

Giyuu never wavers.

Except for this moment. The scene before him was horrific; there was blood soaking every inch of the clearing, and so many chunks of meat littering the ground before him that his shock froze him in place. Rhythmic drips of blood gathering at the tips of branches was all that he could hear over his own breathing. The hilt of a nichirin blade glinted from beneath the gore. A heavy scent weighed on him; the taste of iron thick in the back of his throat. Desperate, but oddly muffled wails shattered the quiet as he and the white-haired demon before him searched for the source.

A girl in a pink kimono was suspended by barely visible spider webs above them, thrashing despite her movements digging the threads deeper into her skin. Blood beaded over the wires, rolling toward the pale demon’s fingertips and adding to the rivulets soaking the ground. As she struggled, Giyuu caught glimpse of something green in her mouth, before she let out an ear-shattering scream.

Giyuu recognised that bamboo muzzle. If that was the demon girl, then the pile of flesh must have been…

He was too late. Again. He had forsaken this family yet again, all because he was too goddamn slow.

“Shut up with that infernal wailing! ” The white-haired demon moved his hand, and Nezuko fell silent. Her right leg fell into the mess before him; leg wraps absorbing her brother’s blood. Moving before he could think, Giyuu cut her free from the threaded prison, gaining the demon’s attention as she fell.

“Who are you to interfere with my little sister? Get out of my way,” he spat, motioning to connect more threads to Nezuko. Giyuu could hear her shuffling behind him, but he paid her no mind. Eyes locked on the demon boy, he surveyed their surroundings. There were glistening threads spread across the entirety of the clearing, all tinged red with a mixture of the siblings’ blood. It created a demented birdcage of blood, locking them inside.

“No,” Giyuu spoke quietly.

Before the demon saw him move, he slashed his blade through its neck. There was no gentle rain shadowing his movements; he wanted to make the boy feel every inch of the blade passing through him. It was a small favour for Nezuko - providing the demon with a peaceful end wouldn’t have felt right. Not when her brother had been torn apart by this demon in front of her. With a quick flick, he cleaned his blade of blood and replaced it in the sheath.

Agonised screaming echoed behind him as he turned to face her once more. Staying alert for any last minute attacks from the crumbling demon’s falling web, Giyuu moved toward Nezuko. With bamboo stifling her cries, she was elbow-deep in chunks of her brother, sifting through him. She raised her hand out of the mess, and he watched as she held up a piece of her brother’s head by his hair. Thick beads of blood and other fluids oozed down her forearm, staining the sleeve of her pink kimono red. On instinct alone, Giyuu moved to grab his sword once more, but seeing the girl bawl made him pause. She wasn’t aiming to eat him? Then why was she digging through her inside-out brother?

Letting go of his sword hilt, he caught sight of a scrap of fabric. Green and black checks were bright against the scarlet hell they were both standing in, somehow dry against the sopping grass. Pocketing it, Giyuu moved forward to try to speak with the girl - choosing his steps carefully, to avoid standing on scattered entrails - who was now holding her bloody, balled hands to her chest as she sobbed. 

“Nezuko,” he began, getting her attention. Pink eyes with slit pupils met his own, filled with tears. Unlike their past meeting, there were no growls tearing her throat as he approached her, nor bared fangs. Hitching breaths shook her small frame; drool slipping past her muzzle. Prominent veins strained in her forehead as she stared at the body before her, but she looked disgusted with the blood that stained her hands. Body stiff, she turned towards him. “We need to leave before the sun rises.”

With a furrowed brow, Nezuko’s cries calmed to sniffles and hiccups. Clenching his jaw, Giyuu placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Do you remember where your box is?” Still confused, Nezuko nodded. “I’ll take you. For now,” tilting her head, she didn’t move from her spot in the grass. From the side of his eye, Giyuu saw the tendrils of daybreak beginning to creep across the sky. With a tight grip on her shoulder, he continued. “You can’t stay here. You still haven’t found the cure.”

Giyuu didn’t know what he was saying. Trying to comfort her, when he had no relation to this girl and she likely didn’t even remember him seemed futile. There was no good reason why she should trust him from their first meeting alone, especially when he was the reason her family had died, and why she was a demon. If he had been faster - if he hadn’t been a pillar in the first place, if it had have been... - maybe her life wouldn’t have been destroyed. Letting her live that day had felt like him taking a risk to give her and her brother a chance, to make up for the hell he was at fault for , but he had just ruined it all. Again.

He had been too late, and now Nezuko was all alone.

With a tug to his hand, Nezuko caught his attention again. She started to pull him deep into the forest, shoulders still shaking. Letting her pull him along, Giyuu zoned back into his thoughts once more.

Was he really going to take responsibility for her? All he knew of her brother was that he was the most kind-hearted person he had met in a very long time. Urokodaki had raved about the boy’s sweet soul in his letters. Giyuu could never be a replacement for that kind of person, and he didn’t want to be a replacement. He’s sure Nezuko wouldn’t, either. Subconsciously, he tightened his grip on her hand. Right now, he was all she had. He could get her out of the forest and take her to Urokodaki, who he knew would look after her. She probably loved him at this point; who wouldn’t after spending so much time with him? Urokodaki also definitely cared deeply for her, so it’d be much better than forcing her to stick around with her brother’s killer…

“My, my! What do we have here? Tomioka, are you being captured by a demon?” A lilting voice echoed through the trees, the sweet tone barely covering the hidden malice. Eyes wide, Giyuu searched for the source before finding Kocho perched on the branch above him. She stared down, ever-present smile stretching her face, but her eyes were cold. “Not going to reply? Please, signal if you need assistance. I’m happy to help out a fellow pillar!” she trilled, clasping her hands by the side of her face. A low growl rumbled behind Giyuu as Nezuko’s grip on his hand tightened. Moving her tightly behind him, Giyuu squeezed back.

“Are you protecting a demon, Tomioka? She’s all bloody, too! She must’ve made a mess of that poor person back in the clearing-” growling rose in pitch as Kocho kept speaking; Giyuu was concerned he’d have to both hold Nezuko back and fight Kocho away from her at this rate. “She’s even growling at me too! I understand she’s pretty, but she’s a bit young for you, no?”

“I’m not attracted to her.”

“Oh, my mistake! But now I really can’t understand why you’re hiding her from me. I’ll be gentle with her if that makes you feel better! She seems like she could’ve been a good friend, but the blood on her hands means she has to repent,” at that, the corners of Kocho’s mouth turned down as her eyebrows raised, mocking pity. “I can make my poison painless for her,” with a flash, she leapt down from the tree, sword raised. Drawing his own, Giyuu parried her blow before it could reach Nezuko, putting some distance between them.

“Nezuko, run to your box. I’ll find you again,” he spoke quickly, letting go of her hand. Whimpering she shook her head and clutched onto his haori. With one eye trained on Kocho, he gently peeled her fingers back. “I won’t let her kill you.” Staring at him, Nezuko steeled herself. She brought her still-clenched fist to her chest one more time before she ran into the night. Kocho sighed.

“You won’t let me? Tomioka, I don’t believe I’m doing anything wrong here. That girl is a demon, we are demon slayers , and you are keeping me from killing her – which is our job, don’t forget,” she shook her head, adjusting her scabbard.

“She’s never hurt anyone.”

“Well, that’s nice. But she is still a demon. You can feel free to try and stop me, but don’t think I’m the only one here!” Giyuu’s eyes widened. Kocho’s tsuguko. He could only hope her brother had instilled enough self-preservation in her for Nezuko to survive the tsuguko before he could meet with her again. “Ah, I see you’ve remembered! I’ll be taking my leave now,” she launched into the air, but was still within sight. Good. He could keep up on foot as long as he could see her. With a heavy heart, Giyuu took off after Shinobu’s shadow.

“Are you really going to chase me like that?” Kocho laughed, leaping from branch to branch. “Tomioka, your left hand is all bloody. Why are you protecting her? Even if she didn’t kill whoever that was in the clearing, she was clearly digging around in the body for one reason. She’s not an innocent child, even though she may look like one.”

Digging around in the body for one reason? Giyuu knew what she was implying, but that clearly wasn’t the case. Why would Nezuko eat her brother? So, what was she looking for? Shaking his head, Giyuu breathed deeply. He could easily get in front of Kocho and stop her, but Nezuko was being chased by a tsuguko now. Demons heal quickly, but that relied on them eating to replenish their energy, which she wouldn’t do, so he had no idea if her injuries had recovered fully yet or not. Catching Kocho to detain her would be a waste of time.

Giyuu was not going to fail her for a third time. 

With gritted teeth, he forced himself to run even faster. If he could cover more ground than Kocho, he had a better chance of finding Nezuko first. 

“Tomioka, I thought you were chasing me! Where are you going?” Kocho called out behind him, playful tone dropped from her voice. Rolling his eyes, Giyuu continued running. He hoped his pillar instincts - or whatever pathetic excuse for instincts he had - would be enough to find her without having to comb through all the trees. But the deeper he ran into the forest, the more ice stabbed his heart. He had to find her.

“GRAB THE DEMON GIRL WITH THE BAMBOO MUZZLE; NEZUKO KAMADO! DO NOT ATTACK HER! BRING HER TO HEADQUARTERS UNHARMED!” the screeching of crows deafened Giyuu, making him falter. This was good, Nezuko wouldn’t be killed on sight. But the thought of taking her before Oyakata was bone-chilling in its own right. He had agreed to Urokodaki’s terms when he asked for his training expertise - but would Oyakata allow Nezuko to live when her brother was gone? Would he be allowed to take over their search?

“Tomioka, I’m afraid I’ll have to detain you as well. Please, do not resist. Your trial will be more favourable if you don’t,” Shinobu floated down before him, reaching out her hand. Nodding once, he motioned to follow her out of the forest.

He could only hope the gods smiled on Nezuko today.

***

Standing apart from the other pillars wasn’t new for Giyuu. He never felt worthy of pushing himself amongst them; they didn’t deserve to be burdened with his presence. He was only meant to be a transitional pillar, after all. 

If he had been faster, that boy could’ve taken his place as the water pillar, and finally someone worthy would fill the role.

Staring ahead, Giyuu listened to the other pillars muttering. He could hear Shinazugawa mouthing off about how he “should be tied up, like the piece of shit he is”, which albeit aggressive, he agreed with. Kocho had declined to restrain him, citing his “compliance” as evidence for him not resisting their trial. It didn’t matter either way. Leaving Nezuko to the wolves wouldn’t be fair. Not after what he did to her brother . 

“There’s no need for a trial, we can handle this ourselves! It’s clearly a code violation! We will decapitate every demon!” Giyuu winced as Rengoku’s loud voice echoed through the garden.

“Then, let me be the one to kill her! I will spray her blood most flamboyantly! More flamboyantly than anyone else!”

“What a pitiful child. It is a shame she was born into this world,” Himejima sniffled, agreeing with the others. 

“Oi, Tomioka. This the little demon bitch you were smuggling?” Shinazugawa called out, holding Nezuko’s box firmly in his left hand. Laughing all the while, he brandished his sword before slamming it through the wood. Sucking air through his teeth, Giyuu forced himself to stay still. “Not even going to come save her? Well, I’m sure you won’t mind if I skewer her a bit before Oyakata comes!” With that, he dropped the box on the ground and stabbed it twice more. Soft, muffled whimpers filled the garden.

“Shinazugawa, please leave her alone. Oyakata requested she be brought here unharmed; that means he would like her to remain unharmed. If you damage the box much more, she’ll burn,” Shinobu’s smile dropped off her face at Nezuko’s quiet cries. Rolling his eyes, he kicked the box away. Giyuu leaped towards her, but a large hand grabbed him by the back of his collar.

“That’s boring, Tomioka. You can’t wait till he’s done to go to the demon! Where’s the flamboyance in that?” Uzui held him on his toes, rendering him immobile. Scowling, Giyuu hung limp in his grip and was dropped once the fight left him. “Don’t forget you’re on trial here, too!”

Glaring, he moved back to his spot on the far side of the garden. If they wouldn’t let him get to Nezuko, he just had to hope Oyakata would be here to stop them soon.

“They won’t hurt her for now, Tomioka. You can calm down,” Himejima’s tears bubbled over his eyes and left thick trails down his cheeks. “Unless she loses this trial, she will be unharmed.” Fixing his glare on one rock in the distance, Giyuu said nothing. A sigh rocked Himejima’s frame at the lack of response. 

“Oh, so sweet! Tomioka’s so cool! I hope he runs to save her again!” Kanroji trilled, her hands clasped against her cheek. Giyuu sweatdropped. So far, that’s been the only positive reaction...

“Do you think that cloud looks like a blade on fire?” Tokito pointed in the distance. Nodding fiercely, Kanroji agreed. Giyuu’s eyes shifted, following Tokito’s finger. It really did look like a sword on fire. 

“Tomioka. Tell me, why are you protecting her?” Kocho queried, eyebrow raised. Pausing, Giyuu didn’t answer. “It might help your case if you tell us.”

Kocho didn’t seem to be tricking him. She wasn’t teasing him right now; there was no lilt in her voice nor false smile stretching her cheeks. Closing his eyes, Giyuu thought over what to say.

“It’s my fault her family’s dead. I owe it to them to keep her alive,” he met her eyes before looking back over to the box. Following his gaze, Kocho shook her head.

“You know she’s a demon. They can’t be trusted,” when he looked back at her, she continued. “It might be more of a kindness to let her die, so she can be with her family again rather than keeping her here.”

Gulping, Giyuu clenched his jaw. With a downturned gaze, Kocho returned to her place among the pillars. A kindness to let her die? Would it truly be better? Even though she’s still a demon… does she even want to be here without her brother?

Sensing Oyakata’s movements through the mansion, Giyuu moved to fall in line with the other pillars. Animosity seeping from Iguro on his right threatened to send his shoulders through his neck, but he kept his composure.

“Welcome, Oyakata. We find it most honourable to be in your presence. We eagerly pray for health and happiness to befall you,” Shinazugawa spoke first, gruffness dissipating from his voice. 

“Thank you, Sanemi. I wish the same for you as well. I am glad to see you all here once again, with no changes in our members,” Oyakata spoke, hand held by his daughter. “I would like to address something before we begin our meeting.” 

Giyuu stiffened. He had no idea how he was going to convince them to let him keep Nezuko, or at least take her to Urokodaki.

“I allowed Tanjiro Kamado to take his demon sister, Nezuko, with him on his travels as a demon slayer.”

The other pillars muttered to themselves in confusion; how could Oyakata allow this? A slayer, travelling with a demon ? The very thing they all swore to destroy?

“Regretfully, Tanjiro was killed by a demon last night. However, I would still like everyone here to accept Nezuko.”

“Even though Oyakata wishes it of us, I am reluctant to agree,” Himejima clasped his hands in front of his face in prayer.

“I will abide by anything you say, Oyakata!” Kanroji smiled sweetly at him, linked hands beneath her chin. 

With a distant gaze, Tokito also agreed. “Either way’s fine for me. I’ll just forget anyway.” 

“Don’t trust it. We hate demons to begin with, why’s she get a pass?” Iguro pointed toward the box, snake hissing over his shoulder.

“I respect you with every fibre of my body, but I can’t understand your thinking! I completely disagree!” Rengoku said through a bright smile.

“We are the demon hunters who annihilate all demons. I wish to punish both the demon and Tomioka,” Shinazugawa spat, staring at the ground.

“I flamboyantly oppose this. I could never accept Nezuko amongst the demon hunters, especially now that she doesn’t have a demon hunter to supervise her,” Uzui agreed. Before he knew what he was doing, Giyuu spoke.

“I’ll take her.”

“I flamboyantly oppose that, too! I could never accept a demon slayer travelling with a demon, let alone a fellow pillar,” they all stared at Giyuu, who didn’t comment further.

“If you could, my child, please read out the letter I received from former pillar Sakonji Urokodaki,” he continued, soft smile ever-present.

“Of course, Oyakata. I will paraphrase the letter. ‘Please forgive Tanjiro for travelling with a demon. Nezuko Kamado has never harmed a human, even when she’s starving she refuses the idea. She retains some of her human reasoning, so she has managed to stay that way for over two years. You might find it sudden and impossible to believe this, but it is the unmistaken truth. In the event that she does eat a human, Tanjiro Kamado, Giyuu Tomioka and Sakonji Urokodaki will cut their stomachs to atone.”

“Seppuku? Who cares about that if a person’s already been eaten?” Iguro hissed, glaring at Giyuu. 

“I agree with Iguro! If she eats someone, it can’t be undone! They won’t come back even if they commit seppuku!” Rengoku finally spoke up, smile bright but never reaching his eyes.

Shinazugawa stood, and moved toward Nezuko. “If they want to kill themselves, they can go ahead and rot. How do we know she won’t eat someone the first chance she gets? That’s just her goddamn nature.” 

“Well, I did see her covered in blood from a mangled body, but Tomioka said she didn’t eat any of it, right Tomioka?” Kocho peered at him from the corner of her eye. An opening. Thank you, Kocho.

“No. She didn’t,” scoffs were all that met his words.

“And we are supposed to believe that? You’re the one who was protecting her! And , you just said you’d take responsibility for her!” with another hate-filled glare, Iguro stood and moved away.

“Calm, my children. You’re correct, they cannot prove that she will not eat someone. But, you cannot prove that she will attack someone either.” Still smiling, Oyakata paused. “And before his death, Tanjiro Kamado met Muzan Kibutsuji.”

The collective shock was contagious. He had met Muzan? So early into his demon slaying career? None of the pillars here had ever seen him, let alone met him. And now, the only person who has seen him is dead.

Yet another reason Giyuu didn’t deserve to stand amongst them all.

Oyakata quieted them all with a single finger raised to his lips.

“My children, Kibutsuji not only went after Tanjiro, but Tanjiro shook him loose. We cannot do anything about the lead that Tanjiro may have given us, but I do believe that it extends to Nezuko as well. I believe something unexpected has happened to Kibutsuji.”

“Forgive me, Oyakata, but I cannot agree with this.” Shinazugawa slammed his foot on the top of Nezuko’s box, and drew his sword. Kanroji gasped behind him, but his eyes remained trained on the wooden door. Maniacally laughing, Shinazugawa cut deep into his forearm and let it drip through the new holes in the wood. “I will show you the ugly true nature of demons! Come out, little demon! I’m marechi, you can smell it, right? Take a bite, I know you want to!”

“Shinazugawa!” Giyuu and Iguro spoke in unison, Giyuu’s stare broken as he met mismatched eyes. With a look of disgust, Iguro looked away. “Take it under the shade, it won’t come out here.” Grin widening, Shinazugawa nodded.

“My apologies for this, Oyakata!” He leapt past Oyakata and his kids, landing deep in the shade of the engawa. Jumping to his feet, Giyuu tried to follow him but Iguro and Rengoku restrained and tackled him, his chin bouncing off the stones as they both held him down.

“Sorry, Tomioka! We can’t have you interfering!” Rengoku’s jovial tone didn’t match the force of his hand holding Giyuu’s head to the ground. 

Only the dripping of Shinazugawa’s wounded arm filled the silence, as everyone waited with bated breath. Gritting his teeth, Giyuu prayed. Please, let her resist.

Growing frustrated, he ripped the door off its hinges. 

Slowly, she stood. Nezuko seemed to be growing in size. Taking one step out of the box - towards Shinazugawa - she climbed out as he laughed.

“That’s it! Come on, sink your teeth into this! You know you want to!” maniacally, he cackled, holding his bloody forearm in front of her. Nezuko’s shoulders shook as she panted, drool slipping past the sides of her muzzle. Neither of them broke their eye contact; neither of them moved. Giyuu wasn’t sure if she’d hold. 

Struggling, he started to try and fight off Iguro and Rengoku. If it’d just been Iguro, he could’ve managed! Iguro forced his elbow deep into Giyuu’s spine, forcing a grunt out of him. Gritting his teeth, he forced his arms beneath him.

“I’d advise you stop struggling, Tomioka!” Rengoku cheered, as though he wasn’t watching a child be tormented in front of them!

“You’re digging into his lungs too much,” Kocho tugged on Rengoku’s sleeve. “Loosen up.”

“If his lungs collapse because I’m digging into them, he should consider stopping struggling,” Iguro lightened the force of his elbow despite his angry tone. Rengoku moved his hand from the back of Giyuu’s head to his shoulder. 

Hissing, Giyuu started to push himself up against the force of their denial. He only managed to shake Iguro off before Rengoku ripped his left arm from beneath him. Head against stone, he mustered all his - limited, thanks to Iguro crushing his lungs with increased vigour - breath and yelled.

“Nezuko!” 

A hand on the back of his head forced his gaze down. Hot, angry rage bubbled within him, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. All he could hope was that was enough for her to regain her senses. 

“I told you, let up on him!” Kocho grabbed Iguro’s wrist; his shock at her interference letting her pull him off. Gritting his teeth, he ripped his arm from her grasp.

“What are you doing, Kocho?” Rengoku’s ever-pleasant voice had a hard edge to it as he increased his pressure on Giyuu’s head.

“The girl’s brother just died, and Tomioka just said he’d take responsibility for her! Let him try to help her,” Kocho pulled on Rengoku’s wrist lightly; they all knew she wouldn’t be able to pull him off. After a pause, he eased off. Snapping his head up, Giyuu scrambled to the engawa. Stopping just at its border, he called her again.

“Nezuko! Resist!” 

From this distance, the sweat beading off her face was clear. Veins strained in her forehead; a loud crack made Giyuu wince as she bit through her muzzle. But she didn’t move forward. 

A moment passed entirely in silence, before she whipped her head away. 

Oyakata was the one to break the silence.

“What happened?” No one spoke, until he gently tapped his daughter’s shoulder.

“The demon girl turned her nose,” the faintest hint of shock lacing her tone. Even that was surprising. None of the Ubayashiki family let anything get to them. A wide smile stretched across Oyakata’s face. “Even though Shinazugawa cut himself and held his arm in front of her face, she did not bite.”

“That is your proof she will not eat humans, right there.” Still smiling, he continued. “Giyuu, you said you would take her? Despite this, there are still people who will not accept my decision. You will now have to prove that she is useful to the demon hunters, in Tanjiro’s stead. Are you sure you wish to dedicate yourself to that, as a pillar?” 

Nezuko, now back in her box, winced at the mention of her brother. Watery eyes locked onto Giyuu’s own, and he felt himself crumble under their weight.

“...” 

She whimpered at his pause. Closing his eyes, Giyuu knelt before Oyakata once more.

“Yes.”

“Very well. Sanemi, Obanai, don’t bully the others too much.” Heads bowed, both gave a quiet “as you command” in acceptance. Clapping her hands, Kocho smiled.

“Well, until we have finished our meeting my kakushi can take care of Nezuko! Is that okay with you, Tomioka?” Looking back to the girl, he nodded.

“Can they fix her box?” 

Kocho agreed lightly, whispering commands to the servants of the Butterfly Estate. Nezuko shrank back into a child size, allowing the frightened kakushi to place her door back on and carry her away.

“Now, my children. Shall we begin our meeting?”

***

Giyuu stretched his legs as the pillars all exited the mansion. They hadn’t discussed much; Muzan was on the move, and Oyakata hoped that Nezuko was as much of a draw for his activity as Tanjiro had been. It was up to Giyuu to protect her, and to keep her from killing, so they could test this theory.

Easier said than done.

He sighed as he continued walking the path to the Butterfly Estate. Interacting with all of the girls that worked there was absolutely not what he wanted to do right now, but Kocho had insisted. She had said something about “teaching him to look after a girl” - how different could it be, really? - and letting Nezuko see Tanjiro’s friends, who had survived the fight on Natagumo mountain. One grieving girl who couldn’t speak was hard enough to comfort, let alone everyone else.

The front gates of the Butterfly Estate were imposing against the brightly coloured trees that surrounded them. From the corner of his eye, Giyuu saw a blue butterfly land on the top of them. Fitting.

Pushing them open, he walked inside.

Chapter Text

Walking into the Butterfly Estate made Giyuu nervous, for the first time ever. He had never been afraid to visit Kocho before, and he had similarly never had anyone who was injured to worry over. But now, he was here to pick up Nezuko. The sun shone bright overhead, a stark reminder of what he had gotten himself into. Travelling with a demon, as a pillar? It was insane.

“Tomioka! What took you so long?” Kocho waved him over from the doors of the estate, cupping her mouth. “Oh, your chin! I’ll get you something to soothe the bruise soon. But really, how did I beat you here by that much?”

“I don’t know,” he took off his shoes at the door, neatly setting them by the others.

“Well, nevermind. Nezuko is in one of the back infirmary rooms; we covered the window so she’s free to move around,” following her through the estate, Giyuu could hear the shuffling of girls tending to their patients. Taking a sharp left, Kocho continued past the infirmary section of her house. Through the last open door they passed, he caught sight of the boy with the boar head that had tried to fight him the night before, and another with unnaturally blond hair. Stopping at her personal office, Kocho ushered him inside.

“Come in, Tomioka,” the door clicked shut behind them, leaving them in an uncomfortable silence. “So, Nezuko. I know you weren’t thinking when you agreed to take her, but my god, was that a dumb decision!” Giyuu frowned at her words. He thought he was doing the best thing he could. Shaking her head at him, she folded her hands on her knees.

“Don’t make that face at me. Did you really consider how to take care of her as she grieves for her dead brother? She refuses to leave her box, but we can all hear her crying. What if she lashes out?”

“She won’t.” Kocho sighed, and brushed her hair from her eyes.

“Okay, let’s say she won’t. Are you going to play the role of her big brother now? Do you even know what that kind of affection is like- don’t make that face at me either, we both know people don’t like you, Tomioka,” she tried to contain a slight smirk at her own words.

“I’m not disliked by people,” Giyuu spoke, after a long pause.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Has no one told you yet? I didn’t mean to break the news,” grin fully stretched across her face now, Kocho turned to her desk. “What are you planning to do with her, really?”

“...I want to take her to my teacher.” With narrowed eyes, she looked at him over her shoulder.

“Are you going to teach her how to use a sword?” Giyuu furrowed his brow.

“No.” Throwing her head back toward her neck, Kocho groaned.

“God, you are impossible to speak to. Would it kill you to add a little to your responses? If you are not teaching her how to use a sword, then why are you taking her there?” Her words were annoyed, but her tone was light.

“I asked my teacher to train Tanjiro. She knows him,” Giyuu breathed deeply through his nose, staring at the various jars that lined Kocho’s walls. “I’m going to leave her in his care.”

Taken aback, Kocho was quiet for a moment, writing something in her notebook. “Do you think she wants to just be dropped off and left behind?”

“Do you think she wants to stay with me?”

“She listened to you at headquarters, and the only time she acknowledged me in any way was when I mentioned you were coming to meet her. I’d say she just might want that,” closing her notebook, Kocho turned to face him again. “You’re probably the closest tie she has to her brother right now, for whatever reason. I don’t know what you said to her, but it seems to have resonated. Which is shocking , knowing you, so I am impressed,” laughing to herself at the mildly insulted look on his face, she got up. “I know I said I’d teach you how to look after a girl, but if you’re only going to drop her off elsewhere, that’s irrelevant. Come on, I’ll take you to her now.”

Following Kocho back through her estate somehow made Giyuu nervous. He didn’t know what he was going to say to Nezuko when he saw her again. Kocho said that she probably wanted to stay with him, but just the night before she also said Nezuko might not even want to live anymore, so he didn’t know what to think. Something must’ve made Kocho change her mind, at the very least.

She led him back to the room with the two boys they passed earlier. “The blond is Zenitsu, the boar boy is Inosuke. They were Tanjiro’s friends, but neither have woken up yet to learn the news. If they do wake up, get one of the workers here to tell me, and I will break the news. I don’t want it to come from you,” with a frown, Giyuu reluctantly agreed. Was he really so bad she didn’t want him talking to them?

Quietly, he opened the door in the back of the room to not disturb the boys’ rest. As gently as he could, he shut it behind him. Nezuko’s box was tucked in the far corner of the room, but there was a bed opposite it. Small whimpers filled the room as he knelt before her. Knocking lightly on her door, he heard the noises stop.

“Nezuko? It’s Giyuu Tomioka,” he paused, waiting to see if she’d respond. Slowly, her door opened by itself and the girl crawled out. Blood still coated her hands and sleeves - despite his best efforts he winced at the sight. Looking around the room, Giyuu noticed there was a small bucket filled with water and soap, a folded cloth sat next to it. He held up one finger to her to indicate she stay put, and collected it.

“Do you want to clean your hands?” he dipped the cloth in the water, finding it had been warmed. Nezuko sniffled and shook her head no. Instead, she grabbed his free hand and turned it palm up, dropping something into it.

In his palm sat two hanafuda shaped earrings, coated with dried blood. “You want me to clean these first?” Nodding softly, Nezuko placed her hands on her knees and waited.

As delicately as he could, Giyuu began to wipe the crusted blood off the earrings. Watery pink trails ran down his hands, but luckily the jewellery wasn’t stained red underneath. He kept cleaning them, ridding the pair of any trace of blood that marred their pretty surface. Once he was done, he presented them to Nezuko once more. Rather than take them, she merely pulled her hair back from her ears and turned one to face him.

“You want me to put them on for you?” from the corner of her eye, Nezuko just looked at him. Sighing, he placed one down on his lap and carefully took the back off the other. Her ears were already pierced, and had fortunately not healed when she became a demon. Once both were on, Nezuko faced him head on. “Can I clean your hands now?” only offering her hand to him as a response, Giyuu sighed. He wasn’t used to being the one forced to talk, but it wasn’t like she could hold up her end of the conversation anyway.

One by one, he scrubbed her hands for her, wiping away the stains on her skin. As he tried to wring the last bit of blood from her kimono, a droplet fell on the back of his hand. Alarmed, his eyes snapped up, only to meet hers, filled with tears, She cradled her hands towards herself again, hugging her damp hands to her chest as tears rolled down her cheeks. Replacing the cloth in the bucket, Giyuu stared into the water. Faint trails of red leaked from the fabric, tinging the water pink. In a morbid way, this was the last physical piece of Tanjiro Nezuko had left. They both watched the traces he left behind get absorbed and fade away in the shallow bucket. Neither moved for a while; neither could bring themselves to throw him away.

Breaking his trance, Giyuu looked back to Nezuko. She was curled in over herself, her haori drowning her childlike frame. Eyes widening, Giyuu dug through his pockets for the scrap of fabric he took from the mountain. Please, tell me it didn’t fall out. Finally, his fingers found the torn edge of fabric that was not his own. Taking it out, he held it in front of Nezuko’s hands, letting her take it. Sniffling, she raised her head and took it from him, bringing it to her nose. She inhaled deeply - from what he remembered, Tanjiro had a keen nose as well; must be a family thing - and gave him a watery smile. He assumed that was her thanks.

As she inspected the piece of Tanjiro’s haori, Giyuu grabbed the bucket and carried it out of the room. Its presence was heavy, especially so due to that effectively being the only body Nezuko had to bury. He left it by the door, hoping someone would take care of it for them. When he came back in, he saw Nezuko had taken the pink ribbon out of her hair, and was trying to tie the scrap in its place. She huffed in frustration, long claws preventing her from finishing the tie. Instinctively, Giyuu covered her hands with his own, removing the haori piece from her grasp. Pulling the piece of hair free, he wrapped the scrap around it and tied it as best he could to match what she had before. When he was done, she smiled at him, closed eyes decorated with the glistening remnants of her sorrow. Nezuko climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck in thanks. Surprised, his arms raised in the air to awkwardly patted her on the back. Grumbling, she let him go. Was that not a good enough hug…?

“If you’re up to it, I want to leave tonight,” at the confused turn of her head, he continued. “We are going to Urokodaki’s.” Perking up a bit, she straightened at the news. From beyond the door, Giyuu could hear nurses entering the boys room; accompanied by a faint groaning. Nezuko, growing in size all the while, walked over the door to exit, Giyuu slamming it closed before she could leave.

“The sun’s still up,” pouting, she tugged at his sleeve, pointing out of the room. With a sigh, Giyuu pushed her further in and left with promises of “blocking the windows, okay?”

Yelling met his ears as soon as he exited the room.

“Who are you?” the blond - Zenitsu, is that what Kocho called him? - squealed, pointing at him in fear. “Why were you hiding in that room? That’s so creepy, why are you even here?”

Staring at him incredulously, he stopped in his tracks, before turning on his heel to face the window. There were no curtains, only soft nets to keep bugs out at night. Zenitsu, crying all the while, kept firing questions at his back.

“Are you just going to jump out of the window? If you’re here to murder us, kill Inosuke first!” frowning at him over his shoulder, Giyuu started looking for a blanket to block out the sun. “Are you mute?”

Rolling his eyes, Giyuu muttered, “no, you’re just annoying” under his breath. High pitched screaming echoed through the room.

“I HEARD THAT! My hearing is as good as Tanjiro’s nose!” wincing, Giyuu ignored him to throw his newly acquired blanket over the window. Gravelly moans hit his ears, and as a gruff voice mumbled a “shut up, Monitsu,” he ensured no light could seep through. The two boys behind him - he decided the deeper voice must belong to Inosuke, because his boar mask didn’t exactly move when he spoke - argued with each other while he inspected the blanket. Deciding it was secure, Giyuu moved to go back into Nezuko’s room, but three little girls in nurse uniforms caught his attention.

“Could one of you get Kocho? These two are awake,” he gestured to the boys, who were still arguing. Now they were arguing with each other about Tanjiro - or any other name that rhymed, in Inosuke’s case - every mention of the boy sending cold shivers down Giyuu’s spine. Seeing them in decent spirits, considering what they’d learn in a few moments made his heart ache, but he walked back into Nezuko’s room without paying them a second glance. She perked up when he came back in, getting ready to visit the others.

“Wait, Nezuko,” he stayed standing in front of the door, blocking her exit. “Just, give them a minute. They just woke up from their injuries on the mountain.” flinching at the mere mention, she wilted before him, sitting down to hug her knees to her chest. Giyuu mimicked her movements, leaning up against the door to wait.

Kocho’s arrival didn’t take long. Her footsteps were quiet - as were her words; she was trying to be delicate - but the unlikely pair both heard her. Pressing his ear to the door to listen closely, Giyuu caught snippets of what she said, “Tanjiro” and “lower moon five” being the clearest. It wasn’t that she was speaking any louder; Zenitsu and Inosuke had rather fallen so silent a pin could be heard dropping. When Kocho paused to let them take it in, he heard none of the reactions he had expected. Neither of the unruly boys were screaming; without looking, he couldn’t tell if they were stunned into silence or tears. The quiet continued until it was so thick Giyuu felt like he couldn’t breathe; his lungs refused to expand in fear of shattering the atmosphere.

After an eternity, Zenitsu was the first to speak. “Is Nezu safe?” his voice was thick and nasal, the product of choking on his own pain.

“Nezuko? Tomioka’s looking after her - the man you saw before covering the window - so you can see her soon if you like,” Giyuu could hear shuffling, and a chair scraping across the wooden floors. “We thought it best you find out about Tanjiro first, though. Nezuko isn’t doing well.”

“She okay?” Inosuke’s tone was soft, softer than Giyuu thought him to be capable of. “If I hadn’t been so pathetic against that demon-”

“She’s fine, physically,” Shinobu cut him off quickly. “She’s staying in that room back there for now, since it’s the most blocked from the sun. So long as she stays with a demon slayer, our leader has granted her permission to live as well,” a hiccup interrupted her, but Giyuu couldn’t tell who it came from. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Trust me, I know how it feels.”

Footsteps thudded across the room towards the back door where Giyuu was sitting. Three light taps against the door caught his attention.

“Tomioka? If Nezuko is up to it, would you like to bring her out now?” Kocho’s voice was low, barely audible through the thick wood. Looking over at Nezuko, he offered her a hand as he stood. She took it, and together they opened the door.

Inosuke and Zenitsu were a pitiful sight. Zenitsu was blubbering - it was a wonder that Giyuu hadn’t managed to hear him through the door. His face was buried in his hands, but by the irregular shaking of his shoulders Giyuu knew it wasn’t a pretty sight. Inosuke wasn’t much better. From their brief meeting on the mountain, he knew him to be fiery and hard to control; he didn’t recognise the boy laying unmoving on the bed, head pointed to the ceiling. Through his boar mask, it was hard to tell, but Giyuu could see the sides were much wetter than the rest, betraying his emotions.

Nezuko pulled her hand free from his own, running to the pair. She stood at the ends of their beds, waiting for them to notice her. Zenitsu reacted first, perking up a little when he looked at her face, until he visibly deflated once more. Hunching over himself, he refused to make eye contact with her again. Whipping her hair around, Nezuko looked back to Giyuu, earrings glinting in the unnatural lighting. The earrings… that’s what upset him. Confused, he turned to Kocho for support.

“Nezuko, it’s okay. They’re just upset about Tanjiro,” she smiled sadly at the girl, who frowned at the thought.

“Nezu, I’m glad you’re okay!” Zenitsu had a smile plastered on his cheeks, but his eyes were watery. Inosuke still hadn’t moved; Giyuu was worried he might’ve passed out. “You’re going to go with that guy?” he asked, frowning as he his eyes darted to Giyuu. Taken aback, he busied himself with checking the blanket covering the window again.

“How will I fight Tanjiro now?” Inosuke croaked out, coughing. “He promised he would come back.”

Light pokes on his upper arm distracted his fussing. “Tomioka? If you’re planning to leave tonight, you might want to sleep. I can give you a room to rest in, if you’d like. I can stay in here with Nezuko until you’re ready to go,” Kocho offered, tapping him all the while. “I need to check over their injuries and take some notes on medicines I thought up, but I can do that in here with her.”

Giyuu turned back to the curtain to mull it over. He knew sleep was a good idea; he hadn’t had any the night before. But leaving Nezuko, when he was the one placed in charge of her - was that really a good idea? She couldn’t exactly come get him if she needed anything, not while the sun was out.

“Stop overthinking things, you’ll hurt yourself. Just go. I’ll send someone to come get you if she needs you for something,” Kocho rolled her eyes, pushing him towards the hallway. A muffled squeak came from behind, before Nezuko ran to catch up to them.

“It’s okay, I’m just prescribing Tomioka here some bedrest so he can be the best friend for you he can be!” Kocho let him go, turning to the girl. Her eyes were wide, brows pulled up toward her hairline. If the muzzle weren’t in the way, she would’ve been pouting. Smiling, Kocho gently rubbed her hand on Nezuko’s hair. “I’ll stay here with you! But if you really want Tomioka back, I’ll send someone to get him straight away, okay?” Hand still on her head, Kocho waited for a moment. When Nezuko nodded contently, Kocho moved her hands to her shoulders, turning her to face the bedridden boys before opening the door for Tomioka. Ungraciously, she shoved him into the hall, telling the trio of girls with matching butterfly pins to “find him an empty bedroom to sleep in, please!” before shutting the door behind him.

Taken aback, Giyuu shook his head, before following the trio of girls. They led him past the infirmary; past Kocho’s office to the back wing of the estate. One girl with pink pins adorning the side of her short bob opened a random door, ushering him in. Running off with promises of “bringing pillows and a futon!” they shut the door, leaving Giyuu all alone.

He didn’t know how to feel. Nezuko took to him quite quickly, despite her grief - he should be grateful, really, that makes this easier - but he didn’t know how to deal with that. Never had he played the caregiver role before; that had all been Tsutako and Urokodaki. As good role models as they were, he wasn’t sure he could live up to their example for Nezuko. He didn’t know how to comfort her through her grief; he wasn’t even capable of getting past his own. Sabito had passed so many years ago, but he wasn’t sure he would ever get over it.

Breaking him from his thoughts, the three butterfly girls knocked at the door and entered before he answered. With a speed that only came from continuous practice, two set the bed up for him while the third covered his window. In a line at the door, they all bowed to him, in unison wishing him a “good sleep, Tomioka, sir!” before they left him to rest. Letting his hair loose, he laid down on the futon and closed his eyes. 

***

Pokes on his cheek woke Giyuu from a dreamless sleep. Groaning, he threw his arm over his eyes, preventing the offending finger disturbing his peace further.

“Tomioka! It’s time to wake up!” Kocho sing-songed from beside his head. Tickling on his forearm caught his attention; moving it he saw orange hair hanging by his face. Nezuko was bent at the waist, looking at him from above. “It’s night!” Kocho clapped her hands, getting to her feet. She walked over to the door as Giyuu sat up and put his hair back in its tie.

“I fixed the box,” a girl with twintails held up by two blue butterflies placed Nezuko’s box by the edge of his futon, fisting her hands on her hips. “Whoever stabbed it was a real piece of work,” she scoffed, annoyed scowl crossing her face. Kocho snorted behind him.

“My, my! Aoi, don’t let Shinazugawa hear you say that,” she giggled airily as Aoi paled, eyes wide. Nezuko huffed at the mere mention of him.

“Whatever, not like he comes here anyway,” she muttered under her breath. Looking at Giyuu, she folded her arms over her chest. “The box is fixed, but it’s not perfect. I wouldn’t rely on it to be sunproof forever,” eyes flicking to Nezuko, she continued. “But it will hold for a while.”

“Thank you,” Giyuu said softly, Nezuko making noises in agreement. With a more pleased look on her face, Aoi bowed to them all before leaving the room.

“I’ll be seeing you then, Tomioka! Please bring Nezuko for a visit again soon; all of the girls who live here love her! They’re hoping to give her a butterfly pin of her own sometime,” reaching to touch her own hairpin, Kocho shot him a closed-eye smile. “I’m sure she’d enjoy the additional company. And, she can visit Zenitsu and Inosuke again. It might help to cheer them up.”

With a quick hug goodbye to Nezuko, she handed him an ointment “for the bruise” before leaving the two of them in a more comfortable quiet than the last time they had been alone. Standing up, Giyuu shouldered the box - it’s light - and checked the window. The moon was shining bright in the sky, stars glimmering in the darkness. Good. Nezuko isn’t forced to sit in the box Tanjiro used to carry her in just yet.

“Nezuko? Are you ready to go?” he faced her, meeting her eyes. She wasn’t crying right now; he hoped Kocho had said something to make her feel better. “It’s night. You don’t have to get in your box yet,” her eyes flickered from his face to the box, eyebrows drawing together at the sight. “If we make good time we can get to Urokodaki’s before the sun rises.”

Leading the way, Giyuu took her back out of the estate, and into the night.

***

He was surprised at the lack of demons they had encountered.

Normally, at this time of night, he had run into at least one on his patrols. It wasn’t like Nezuko was a deterrent for them; demons didn’t care about other demons. Giyuu couldn’t even sense any nearby. Perhaps it was because they were nearing Urokodaki’s home - maybe the former pillar had set up wards against demons - but it was still unnerving.

It was almost like they had been instructed to leave them alone.

As they continued walking, Nezuko’s arm bumped into his more than what seemed accidental. Looking down at her, he found her already staring at him. Her eyes were watery again, but she wasn’t crying just yet. Stopping in his tracks, he gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she didn’t answer, continuing to stare at him. At a loss for what to do, Giyuu stared awkwardly back for a few moments, before it hit him. She reacted well to Kocho patting her head… maybe he should do that too. Giyuu raised his hand, placing it on her head heavily. For another long moment, they stared at each other. Nezuko blinked slowly, eyes flicking back and forth from his hand to his face. He wasn’t much better; staring blankly at his own hand resting on her head. Remembering that the idea of patting someone’s head involves actually moving your hand, Giyuu tapped her hair a few times before turning around, cheeks flushed slightly.

What the hell was that? Embarrassment burned in his stomach, making him wince. He could almost feel Sabito laughing at him for how horrific that was. Giyuu hadn’t thought that he was that awkward. Taking a deep breath, he tried to begin walking again - and forget that ever happened - but Nezuko blocked his path. Smiling, she tugged the sleeve of his haori until he finally got her message and bent down low enough for her to reach. On her toes, she ruffled the top of his hair lovingly. Giyuu’s eyes widened. It was just like Tsutako used to. 

A sudden memory of his sister, with her red kimono bright against her pale skin. She smiled at him, laughter bubbling out of her. Ruffling his hair until it was a huge mess, she cooed at his incredulous expression. 

“You’re so cute, ‘Yuu! When you’re big, promise to bend down for me so I can give you head pats forever, okay?”

Pleased with herself, Nezuko took his left hand and started pulling him along the path. Giyuu had forgotten she used to be an older sister; he’d only ever known her to be younger than Tanjiro. But the way she had just acted was so reminiscent of his own sister he was almost brought to tears. Shaking his head, he cleared his mind of the distant memory. He hadn’t thought about his sister in a long time. Unconsciously, he grabbed a fistful of the red half of his haori. Taking a deep breath, he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He couldn’t afford to get upset over the long-dead. Now wasn’t the time to pity himself.

***

As they kept walking, the moon gradually fell in the sky; the rich depth of night fading away to a new day. Giyuu left it as long as he could, before stopping under a shady tree to take the box off his back. Sighing, he opened the door for Nezuko, who despite the sad look on her face, shrank without a noise of complaint. When she was settled, he secured her inside.

The path on the mountain was starting to become familiar - he recognised the trees he and Sabito used to run to hide behind when Urokodaki was chasing them to continue their training - so they were getting close. The last time he had been back here was when he woke up from his Final Selection. While he had tried to stay in contact with his old teacher, his old crow made that difficult - it often delivered his messages to the wrong person, which he blamed on it being elderly - so he could only really write to him when Urokodaki’s own crow was willing to wait.

Finally, he reached the top of the small hill that led to Urokodaki’s humble home. Adjusting the straps to the box on his back, Giyuu’s heart rate picked up. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Urokodaki wasn’t even here. Continuing his walk down, he decided that he would just wait inside anyway if that turned out to be the case. He could always beg for forgiveness later.

Knocking twice on the door, he - thankfully - heard shuffling inside. When the door opened, he was met with Urokodaki’s familiar expressionless tengu mask. Even though he couldn’t see his face, he could see how the man’s body faltered when he realised who was present.

“Giyuu? What are you doing here? You didn’t send a crow,” he started, hand tightly gripping his door handle. Oh right. That probably would’ve been polite. Shinobu would definitely tease him for that.

“Sorry, I forgot,” he shuffled on the spot, hitching the box up again. Urokodaki’s hand shot out to touch the strap looped over his shoulder.

Hesitating, he grabbed Giyuu’s shoulder. “Why do you have Nezuko’s box?” Looking aside, Giyuu said nothing. “Come in, then. I’m sure it’s been a long journey.”

Urokodaki ushered him inside after he kicked off his shoes. Immediately, he set up cushions for the pair to sit on, but he hesitated as his hand hovered over a third. Giyuu firmly closed the curtains at the one window Urokodaki had, before placing the box on the floor. Knocking on the door, he waited for Nezuko to come out on her own. Urokodaki brought the third cushion, setting it between them as he sat down.

“I need to know, Giyuu. Why do you have Nezuko’s box?” the old man’s voice sounded pained. Giyuu couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew they were trained on the door. Before he could carefully choose his words, the door creaked open, and Nezuko crawled out.

“Nezuko?” he exclaimed, ushering the girl to the cushion beside him. “Why are you with Giyuu? Where’s Tanjiro?” Looking away from them both, Giyuu stayed silent. He had questioned Shinobu before, but perhaps she was right. Giving the news that Tanjiro had died was a delicate task; one he wasn’t sure he was capable of doing.

“Tanjiro… was killed by a demon,” Urokodaki took a sharp breath, clenching his fisted hands on his knees.

“How?” he spoke through gritted teeth, the first tears slipping past the edges of his mask.

“It was Lower Moon Five. He used webs for his blood demon art and Tanjiro couldn’t cut through them in time,” Giyuu recalled the haunting scene, cringing at the memory. Nezuko stayed silent, just staring at the empty space before her.

“Who killed it?”

“I did.”

Urokodaki nodded once to himself, and took a shuddering breath. He turned to Nezuko, opening his arms to her. Throwing herself into them, she nuzzled her head beneath Urokodaki’s chin, and held him as he cried into her hair. They stayed like that for a while - Urokodaki seemingly drawing comfort from holding onto the last of the Kamados.

After what seemed like an eternity, Urokodaki let her go. Much more composed, he opened the door to a room in the back and laid down two futons for the pair. Before he had even dropped the second on the ground, Nezuko had crawled beneath it, eliciting a chuckle from the man. Draping the blanket over her, he bent down and patted her head softly before joining Giyuu once more.

“So, what brings you here?” he spoke thickly, sniffling once.

“I want to leave Nezuko with you,” Giyuu looked at her, who was now frowning at him. “She doesn’t deserve to be stuck with me.”

“Why do you think she doesn’t want to stay with you?” Urokodaki busied himself with the beginnings of breakfast, gathering enough food for the both of them.

“I’m responsible for Tanjiro’s death.”

Head whipping up to face him, Urokodaki stared at him from beneath his tengu mask. Hesitating for a moment, he put down the knife he was using to chop vegetables. “How so?” he pried carefully, no emotion in his voice to betray his feelings.

“If I had gotten there faster, I could’ve stopped the demon. If I had gotten there faster two years ago, then neither of them would be exposed to this world at all,” Giyuu gritted his teeth, watching as the candlelight bounced off the surface of Urokodaki’s knife.

“Giyuu, you can’t dwell on what’s already happened,” he picked back up his knife, breaking Giyuu’s gaze. “I’m sure neither of them blame you whatsoever.”

“We can’t ask Nezuko of that to make sure, though. She can’t talk! If I had gotten there faster two years ago, I could’ve fought Muzan and ended this nightmare for all of us!” he was borderline yelling at this point, but Urokodaki was unphased. “If I hadn’t been so pathetic in the Final Selection, then Sabito would still be here. He wouldn’t have let Nezuko get turned into a demon, and he definitely wouldn’t have let Tanjiro die! All of this is my fault,” he choked out, much more quietly than before. Urokodaki kept preparing the food all the while.

“You can’t shoulder the responsibility for all the misdeeds of demons, Giyuu. You couldn’t have known any of this would happen. You are the water pillar for a reason; Oyakata wouldn’t have let you rise the ranks if he truly believed any of what you think about yourself is true,” finally done chopping, he swiped all the vegetables into a pot. Putting away the knife and cutting board, he sat next to Giyuu. “Nezuko is in your care; she trusts you for a reason. If she thought you were responsible for Tanjiro’s death, she wouldn’t be here with you right now.”

Looking away from his old teacher, Giyuu held back a scoff. Like she had any choice if she wanted to live .

“I’m leaving her in your care. I will continue the search to find a cure for Nezuko on my own,” getting up, he walked over to the door. “I’m sorry for dropping all of this on you in this manner.”

Giyuu placed his hand on the door handle, but hesitated opening it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nezuko grabbing the box, carrying it over to him. Confused, he watched as she put it down and prepared to climb inside.

“Wait, Nezuko. You’re staying here,” he closed the door to the box, preventing her from entering. Craning her neck from her shrunken state, she looked up at him. “You don’t have to come with me anymore.”

With the same neutral expression, Nezuko continued staring at him. He couldn’t open the door with her exposed like this - it was early morning now; she’d burn. Neither moved for a long moment, until Nezuko reached up, held his left hand and smiled. Eyebrows drawing together, Giyuu looked to Urokodaki for assistance.

“It looks as though Nezuko’s made up her mind on who she wants to stay with,” he chuckled, looked at the pair. Nodding, Nezuko made a little ‘mmph’ in agreement. Crouching in front of her, Giyuu tried to get as close to eye level as he could.

“You really want to come with me?” in lieu of a response, Nezuko dropped his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling him like she had done Urokodaki earlier. Frozen, he looked to his teacher for assistance, who just shook his head. He mimed for Giyuu to complete the hug before she pulled away.

Softly, he wrapped one arm around her back, and had his other hand on the back of her head. With a little noise of contentment, Nezuko rested on his collarbone, arms going limp.

“She fell asleep,” Urokodaki whispered, pointing to Nezuko. “Bring her to the futon in here.”

Trying not to disturb her, Giyuu picked Nezuko up and carried her over. Urokodaki had opened the blanket, so he set her down and covered her with it. Sliding the door shut behind him, Giyuu rejoined Urokodaki at the table, where he was now stirring a pot.

“Are you done trying to leave her behind now?” nodding, Giyuu picked at his fingernails.

“Would you be able… to make her a new box? Shinazugawa - the wind pillar - stabbed through that one a few times. One of Shinobu’s staff members fixed it but the association with Tanjiro is hard for her,” now picking at the skin on his thumb, Giyuu continued inspecting his hands.

“Of course I can. It will take awhile for me to gather all of the materials again - are you okay to wait with your pillar duties? You’re both welcome to stay as long as you like, so that’s not a problem,” Urokodaki started to serve food into two bowls, pushing the first one over to Giyuu. He muttered his thanks before grabbing the chopsticks.

“Oyakata told me I could take a break to get Nezuko situated,” he spoke between mouthfuls, a shudder going down his spine as Giyuu remembered how Urokodaki had chastised Sabito for keeping his mouth open. 

“Why don’t you teach her some Water Breathing? It might be a good way for you to bond with her,” Urokodaki picked up his own chopsticks after muttering a quick prayer.

Teach her Water Breathing? Giyuu had never considered teaching a demon a breathing technique before, but he supposed Nezuko was no ordinary demon. It could help her feel closer to her brother as well, if she learnt his sword style. He had denied Kocho when she asked if that was his plan earlier, but perhaps it was a good idea.

At the look of acceptance on his face, Urokodaki promised him he’d dig out some training swords later that day for them to use once night fell. After they finished their meal, Urokodaki ushered him into Nezuko’s room before he could help clean, insisting “he’s the guest” and he needed to “get some rest”. Deciding just this once to accept Urokodaki’s care, he got into the second futon and fell asleep. 

Chapter Text

Giyuu awoke to tickles on his face. Again. Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of Nezuko hovering over him, the ends of her hair hanging in his face. Is this how she wakes people up? When she saw that he was awake, she got out of his way and sat next to him. Nezuko watched as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, she leant forward on her knees when he took his hair down from the now-messy ponytail he had slept in. Launching at him, she immediately tangled her hands in his hair, twisting and turning pieces at random. Sighing, Giyuu let her do as she pleased. 

After she had had her fun, Giyuu passed her a hairbrush and let her tie his hair for him. Delighted with the new task, she eagerly took it from him and recommenced her fun with his hair. Thankfully, she was surprisingly gentle when she brushed out the knots, and he never felt more than soothing scratch from her claws. When she was done - he suspected she had done something else to his hair than just tie it, as he had felt gentle tugs and her tying something around the ends - she put down the brush and pulled him out of the room. 

The moonlight streamed through the now-open window, illuminating the room. Wearily, Giyuu yawned into his hand. He was already semi-nocturnal so he could patrol at night, but for Nezuko’s benefit he felt like he had gone the whole way. She stopped pulling him when she caught sight of Urokodaki, who turned to face them. Letting out a bark of laughter, Urokodaki quickly composed himself while Nezuko made happy humming noises. With a frown, Giyuu reached up to feel his hair. There were a number of small braids running through it, and Nezuko had painstakingly tied all of them off with the pink ribbons she was no longer using in her own hair. He wanted to pull them out - if even Urokodaki laughed at him, there would be no solace if anyone else saw - but the genuine happiness he saw on Nezuko’s face made him falter. It was the first time he’d seen her this pleased in the past few days, so he had no choice but to leave them.

“I left the training swords outside for you both,” Urokodaki’s voice had a hint of mirth in it, which made Giyuu scowl. Nodding in thanks, he led Nezuko outside. Thankfully, as a demon Nezuko both needed to worry about traps less than a human slayer, and already had extreme strength and stamina so long as she slept. All he needed to do was teach her total concentration breathing.

Urokodaki had cleared the surrounding region in front of his house of any obstacles, and put two wooden swords on the ground. One had a heavily reinforced handle, which Giyuu assumed was acting as a guard against Nezuko’s claws. Picking up that sword first, he passed it to her. Right hand directly against the hilt for strength, and her left hand acting as both support and movement. Tanjiro had clearly had an influence on her.

“That’s a good hold, Nezuko,” the girl smiled at him, eyes closed. Her form seemed to be perfect, too. “Were you taught how to do this before?” shaking her head no, Nezuko pointed up to the green and black bow in her hair. “Did you just learn by watching?” to this, she nodded a yes. Wondering if he could teach her by having her copy his own movements, Giyuu picked up the second wooden sword. 

“I’ll show you how to do everything, and you copy me,” she nodded furiously, matching his stance exactly. Water breathing First Style: Water Surface Slash was the easiest to learn the motions of, as all it required was generating momentum to create a powerful slash. Nezuko already had the demon strength required to perfect it, and she should have the core strength necessary for breath styles. Checking from the corner of his eye to make sure she was still watching, he unleashed the move. A strong blast of wind that was generated from the force of his blade shook the bushes surrounding the clearing. Moving out of the way, he let Nezuko make her own attempt. Brows furrowed in concentration, she twisted and slashed the sword for hours, only pausing when she tugged on Giyuu’s own sword to give her another demonstration. She kept firing attacks until she had blown the top leaves off of the bushes he had merely shaken. Giyuu’s eyes were wide in shock. That was the fastest he had ever seen anyone learn a sword style, let alone perfect one. Excitedly, she whipped around to face him, panting heavily. 

“That was perfect,” he choked out, still taken aback. Sweat beading down her forehead, Nezuko jumped back into position and continued slashing her blade until she was moving as fluidly as the water. Watching only her blade as she honed the technique was playing tricks on Giyuu; he could’ve sworn he saw the water trails people claimed they saw come from his own blade.

Had she not been turned into a demon, Nezuko would have made an amazing slayer.

“Tanjiro used to write diaries for Nezuko,” Urokodaki had crept up on Giyuu, both men watching her practice. “He would tell her verbally all of what he learnt from me, but he kept his feelings to himself and the diaries. She might be picking this up so quickly because she already had him teach her the technique, she just needed the practice,” this time, the force of Nezuko’s slash left a cut in the trunk of a tree. Pausing, she readjusted her grip on the sword as she caught her breath. “It might be good motivation for her if you read the diary entries to her.” 

Frowning, Giyuu turned to look at Urokodaki. “You kept them?”

“He left them here. There was no way for him to carry them, and they were meant to be for Nezuko when they found the cure, or if something happened to him,” clenching his fists, Urokodaki stared at Nezuko swirling her sword around. “He never explicitly said that, but I know it’s what he meant.”

Nodding, Giyuu remained silent. Nezuko had gone from beginner to perfect in the span of one night, even though she was exhausted. Sweating and panting profusely, she forced herself to keep swinging the sword as long as she could. Giyuu thought about stopping her, but the sun was rising soon. The way her jaw was clenched, and muscles were strained as she grasped the sword indicated anger. 

If she was letting out her rage that built from Tanjiro’s death via training, who was he to stop her?

Finally, when every single attempt she made at hitting First Style was perfect, the sky had lightened to almost the point of sunrise. Giyuu gently took the sword out of her hands, feeling how her muscles shook from exertion. She had managed to calm her breathing somewhat, but she looked up to Giyuu through half-lidded eyes.

“The sun is going to rise soon. You’re done for today,” placing both swords on top of each other, he ruffled her hair like she had done to him the night before. “You did a good job,” it was still a struggle for him to verbalise his praise to her, but the weary smile she gave him made it worth his effort.

Leading her inside, both sat down at the table with Urokodaki, who was serving what looked like dinner, but was absolutely breakfast. He had covered the windows back over so Nezuko could sit with them.

“Did you have a good training day?” Urokodaki pointed his question toward Nezuko, who was blearily playing with the ends of her hair. Nodding, she smiled at him before curling up in his lap and falling asleep. Chuckling quietly, he stroked her hair before eating some of his own meal. “She picked it up very quickly,” he paused to take another bite. “Are you going to spar with her?” lifting one brow, Giyuu pondered the question. 

“Do you think I should?” he ate quickly, as his former teacher spoke.

“You’re one of the few people who can keep up with her demon strength. I think if you can teach her all of the other forms as easily as the first, then it’d be good additional practice,” brushing the hair that had fallen onto Nezuko’s face off, he continued. “She might struggle with some of the later styles, especially your Lull, however.” 

Tilting his head, confused, Giyuu narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“It’s a complex move, and she is not a swordswoman-” 

“Not yet,” Giyuu interrupted. 

“You’re right, not yet ,” Urokodaki’s voice was light with mirth. “But her demon strength might end up working against her. Will you keep up with training her when you leave here?”

“If she wants to,” Giyuu shrugged, noncommittal tone to his voice. “I won’t force her.”

When they were finished, Urokodaki gently shook Nezuko awake. Blinking the blurriness out of her eyes, she sat up to let him free. As he gathered their used dishes, Urokodaki ushered them into the darkened room, passing Giyuu a lantern.

“I laid out the diaries for you,” he whispered in Giyuu’s ear, pointing to the small pile beside his futon. “They’re in chronological order.” 

Quietly thanking him, Giyuu slid the door shut behind them. Placing the lantern next to his futon, he waited for Nezuko to get settled before he picked up the first notebook. On the front cover, Tanjiro had written both of their names, but Nezuko’s was in a much cutsier font. Flipping the pages, he saw Tanjiro had written entries for almost every single day he trained with Urokodaki, even if they were short. The days he had skipped he wrote an extra long follow up the next day, apologising profusely to Nezuko for his carelessness. 

Seeing how sweet Tanjiro was made Giyuu’s heart clench. He wished he could have traded places with him.

“Nezuko? Are you still awake?” all he was met with was shuffling beneath her futon until he could see her eyes out the side. “Urokodaki gave me Tanjiro’s training diaries that he wrote for you. Do you want me to read it to you?” pulling her head out fully, she nodded. Bringing the lantern closer to them, he began reading.

“‘Hi Nezuko! It’s a bit weird for me to be addressing you this way when you’re right next to me! But you fell asleep last week, and you haven’t woken up since. I wish you would wake up soon, Urokodaki agreed to take me as his apprentice! So I’ll be training hard, I promise. He made me run down the mountain again today, dodging a bunch of traps - I have so many bruises! - but I think I’m starting to get a little better. I’ll bear it, because I’m the oldest son!’” Giyuu paused, looking over to see her reaction. Her brows were knitted together, but while her eyes were watery she wasn’t crying yet. When they made eye contact, she stared until he got the message to continue. “‘Gah!! Today was even harder! I started to get the hang of dodging Urokodaki’s traps but now he’s made them deadlier! I’ve definitely gotten better at dodging them though, Nezuko!!’”

Many of the entries were similar. Tanjiro would document his day, or write up the training regime Urokodaki had put him through that he wanted to remember. Hopefully, hearing how Tanjiro explains the training might stick with Nezuko . Giyuu kept reading until he found one particularly long entry. Checking her reaction again - and finding that her tears hadn’t yet welled over - he moistened his lips and read it aloud.

“‘ Nezuko, I wish you would wake up again. Every day I wake up without you, I’m scared that you’ll be dead. I have worried this whole time, but I tried not to let it reach you. I miss you, Nezuko. Urokodaki got a doctor in to see you, but he said there was nothing wrong. I wish you could cheer me on in my training.’” Giyuu paused to take a deep breath. He wasn’t used to speaking so much in one go.

“‘Recently, we went to the top of the mountain to practice sparring in the thinner air, and I couldn’t help but remember when we got stuck like that as kids. Do you remember? When we went to the top of the mountain and I had to carry you down because we couldn’t breathe? I guess I got practice carrying you in early, huh? What about when our mother and I tried to convince you to let us get you a new kimono? But you told us to save that money for the younger ones to eat a bigger meal, because it was your ‘favourite kimono’ and you didn’t mind repairing it. Nezuko, I’ll make you a human again, and I’ll buy you the most beautiful kimono there is. Everything I couldn’t give to our family, I’ll give it to you. I promise.’”

A small sniffle interrupted Giyuu’s reading. Nezuko’s eyes had finally given up; silent tears streaked their way down her cheeks, droplets landing on clenched fists. Taking note of where he left off, Giyuu closed the book and placed his hand on her head. They stayed like that for a while, before Nezuko wiped her face clean. Giyuu dimmed the lantern light, letting them both lie in the darkness. Soon after, he felt Nezuko grab a handful of his haori sleeve, seemingly to comfort herself as she fell asleep. Shifting his arm closer to her so she could reach more comfortably, Giyuu followed suit. 

***

Giyuu woke up to a faceful of hair again. It seemed that was Nezuko’s favourite way to wake him. He could see none of the pain on her face that she had had when listening to Tanjiro’s journal had lingered, thankfully. Sitting up, he let Nezuko take the braids out of his hair for him - Giyuu had forgotten he’d left them in the night before - and put his hair back up normally. Dragging him out of the room, she waved hello to Urokodaki before exiting the house. 

“Do you even need to warm up, as a demon?” Giyuu asked as she grabbed out both of the swords. Nezuko, instead of answering, started practicing her First Style again. She faltered a little initially, but got used to it again much quicker than she had learning it the night before. 

“You learn fast,” Giyuu watched as she turned to him and smiled, much less out of breath than she was the night before. “I’ll demonstrate Second Style for you.”

Second Style proved much more difficult for Nezuko. She couldn’t match the timing of her running leap to the force of her attack. Each attempt left her failing the landing; after the tenth time Giyuu watched her pick her face out of the ground, he rethought the situation.

“Nezuko, we don’t have to keep trying it this way-” angry muffled noises interrupted him, as she picked her sword - and herself - back up and started swinging again. Any attempt Giyuu made to pause her was met with more huffing, and angrier attempts from Nezuko. 

Finally, after one particularly bad fall, she stayed where she had landed. Panicked, Giyuu ran over to her - did something happen, is she falling into a coma again? - before he saw the soft, uneven shaking of her shoulders. He paused where he was crouched. Giyuu had never been the best at speaking comforting words - if he could write her a letter, he’d have a much easier time, but he didn’t know if she could even read as a demon. Settling for trying his best, and hoping that Nezuko would appreciate his attempt, he rested a heavy hand on her back.

“Nezuko, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” he began, feeling her breath hitch beneath his palm. “You don’t need to perfect everything the same day you learn it.” 

Sniffling, Nezuko sat up; Giyuu’s hand fell from its place on her back. She rubbed harshly under her eyes with her knuckles, staring up at him. Rubbing the back of his neck, Giyuu looked away from her.

“It took me a long time to learn Water Breathing, and I wasn’t able to do it alone. I don’t expect you to master it right away,” Nezuko’s eyes were trained on him, but they had a faraway look to them. “When we leave here, I can continue training you at my house.” Eyes brighter, Nezuko nodded quickly, jumping back to her feet. Sword in hand, she resumed attempting Second Style. 

By the time the sun was about to rise, she was at least able to stick the landing. Giyuu had to convince her to practice the flip without the sword - she couldn’t get out of her own head to stop using so much force in her movements - but this was progress. 

“We can continue Second Style tomorrow, if you’d like,” Giyuu ushered her inside before the first rays of dawn broke the night. Nodding softly, Nezuko left for the shared room in the back of Urokodaki’s house.

***

Rather than finding her asleep, Giyuu found Nezuko fumbling with the lantern, cradling in her lap the diary he had been reading to her the night prior. Taking the lantern from her, he turned it on and got settled to read. She passed over the diary before crawling under her own futon. Giyuu cleared his throat, and took a deep breath. 

“‘Today Urokodaki threw me off a cliff!’” Taken aback, Giyuu reread the sentence to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. He did that to all of his trainees? Shaking his head, he continued. “‘I’m fine, though! I’ve just been a little embarrassed at how much of my burden I’m placing on you with these diary entries, so maybe I won’t show them to you at all… I know you have your own burdens to bear. At least for now, writing these entries to you eases the pain of thinking you may never wake up.’” 

“‘I know being a demon must be hard, but you can do it, Nezuko! Bear it for as long as you can; I’ll do my best to share the weight of it all with you. When you’re human again, please blame me for what happened to you and our family. I wasn’t there for you all that night, so I’m dedicating the rest of my life to right the wrongs I’ve committed to you.”

Giyuu stopped reading when Nezuko broke down, letting her cling to his arm for comfort like she had done the night before. That was the beginning of their routine at Urokodaki’s; every morning Giyuu would wake up to a faceful of orange hair, Nezuko would get at least the basics down of a Water Breathing move, and Giyuu would read Tanjiro’s words to her before they slept. 

Tanjiro had let all of his struggles out on paper, writing them as though he were speaking to Nezuko, but Giyuu could tell she was never meant to see them if Tanjiro had any say in the matter. But now they were her journals, and she wanted to hear every word her brother had left her.

“‘Nezuko, do you remember the dance our father used to do to honour the fire god? I remember the first year I watched him do it; you were strapped to our mother’s back because you were too little to walk. When he taught me the steps, you demanded I teach them to you, even though our tradition said it was passed from father to son. I’m glad I did teach you, now. I’m glad that I’m not the only one who has that piece of our history. Even though I’m the eldest son, it’s nice that I can share some of these burdens with you like this, through this diary, even if you can’t see it. Please, forgive me for my weakness in doing so. I hope you still remember the steps.’”

Tilted head, Giyuu stopped reading to check Nezuko’s reaction. Rather than sadness, her eyes were bright in recognition.

“Nezuko, do you remember the dance of the fire god?” firm nods were his only answer. A light knock sounded on the door, before Urokodaki opened it slightly. 

“I’m leaving for a few days,” he whispered to them both, staying quiet despite it being morning for him. “I have to gather the last of the materials for the new box. Giyuu, there’s enough food left here for you until I get back.”

Giyuu thanked him softly; Nezuko crawled of her futon to hug him goodbye. She dimmed the lantern herself, grabbing a handful of his sleeve so they could both sleep the day away.

***

Giyuu could feel a heavy stare weighing him down as he awoke. For once, he could open his eyes without the threat of orange hair falling in them. Confused, he stared at Nezuko for a moment until he noticed she had tied her hair in a very messy twist - he didn’t really understand how it was staying up - that was defying gravity. Groaning, he sat up and let her do the same style in his hair without complaint before they both went outside. 

Rather than grabbing her training sword, this time Nezuko cleared the area, dragging Giyuu into the centre. She stepped into a dance, performing a few of the steps before stopping with a huff. Bewildered, Giyuu blinked at her. Tugging on his sleeve, Nezuko pulled him into position beside her. She tapped his leg until he moved it where she wanted it, repeating the process until he was standing exactly as she was. Giyuu was baffled, still staring at her with wide eyes until it finally clicked.

“You want… to teach me a dance?” he queried, watching as she nodded vigorously. Wracking his brain, he tried to think of what possible reason led her to want to teach him to dance , of all things, coming up short. Tired of him taking so long to understand, Nezuko ran off and brought back Tanjiro’s diary, pointing to the page they had been reading the night before.

“The dance of the Fire God? Is that what you’re trying to teach me?” skimming the page, he remembered what he had read to her. She’s trying to share her family tradition with me?

Gently, she took the diary from him, running it back inside. Quickly checking over his posture, Nezuko gave him an approving nod and slowly started stepping him through the steps. Giyuu’s ears were burning; he stumbled through the steps clumsily - anyone who saw him would think he wasn’t a pillar with how often he tripped over his own feet - but as they were alone, he could bear it. Nezuko seemed to giggle at him when he fell flat, but she helped him up nonetheless. Brushing himself off - and trying to calm his cheeks that were so hot they throbbed - Giyuu thanked the gods that Urokodaki wasn’t here. If his former teacher had seen that, he never would’ve lived it down. 

As he began to get the hang of the steps, Giyuu realised it was very similar to a sword style. Pausing so he could catch his breath, he encouraged Nezuko to run through it once on her own so he could observe her. As she danced around the clearing, he watched her breathing - Nezuko breathed peculiarly, inhaling more deeply than he would have in some places and holding it in others. Tilting his head, Giyuu pictured a sword in her hand as she moved her arms. Each swing and twist looked like a heavily slowed down sword style. When she had finished running it through, Giyuu kicked off the tree he had leant against and walked over to her.

“Nezuko, did your family have a history of swordsmanship?” brows furrowed, she looked to be deep in thought. Finally shrugging her shoulders, Giyuu sighed. “Your dance of the Fire God looks like a breathing style,” she stared at him without reaction. Giyuu frowned, thinking of what he could tell her. She seemed to be happy to teach him her family tradition, so he sighed deeply. With pink cheeks, he swallowed his pride and asked, “would you continue to teach me the dance?”

Smiling widely, Nezuko nodded and dragged him back to the middle of their unofficial training grounds to start again. At least she was happy.

***

Their routine had changed a little now. As well as training Nezuko in Water Breathing, she continued to teach Giyuu the steps to the dance of the Fire God. He stumbled less every day - thankfully; his ankles appreciated him no longer rolling them every night - but he was nowhere near a master. Nezuko made much more progress with her swordsmanship in the time they had been at Urokodaki’s. 

On the tenth day of their stay, of course it had to be when Nezuko was correcting his dancing , Urokodaki returned. Nezuko ran over to him in greeting, so Giyuu had some time to conceal his shame. He could only hope Urokodaki hadn’t seen how bad he still was at performing the steps.

“Did you get all of the materials?” he asked, willing the flush in his cheeks away.

“I believe so. Giyuu, were you dancing with Nezuko?” he could hear the mirth in Urokodaki’s voice, even if his face was shrouded. Shoulders tensing, Giyuu ducked his head to the side to hide his blush. Nezuko had no such shame, and happily made noises of agreement. Taking Giyuu’s hand, she pulled him back into practice with her again as he continued to avoid Urokodaki’s gaze. Chuckling, he left them both with a flippant “I’ll leave you to it.”

By way of explanation - when they had finished for the night - Giyuu told Urokodaki “the dance is from Tanjiro’s journals”. Much more somber than he had been before, Urokodaki nodded and wished them both a good night, not asking further. Nezuko pulled him back to their shared room, lantern all set up. During the course of their stay, they had almost completely finished Tanjiro’s journals. Giyuu assumed he was nearly done with his training, based on what Tanjiro had to say about Urokodaki’s behaviour. Clearing his throat, he began to read the last few entries.

“‘Urokodaki left me here alone with you today. He said that he has nothing left to teach me - all I need to do is cut a boulder in half with my sword for him to approve me for the Final Selection. This is the biggest rock I have ever seen in my life!! I don’t know how I’m supposed to do it! Thank the gods I wrote down all of my training regime here so I can practice it every day. Nezuko, I’ll figure out a way to slice the boulder! Please, cheer me on in your dreams!’” Nezuko made a muffled noise that sounded like a sad little cheer.

“‘I met a boy around our age today. He told me I was a pathetic excuse for a man, and that I am wasting Urokodaki’s teachings. I’ve been practicing every day since he left!! I don’t know what more I need to do. There was a girl with the boy, as well. She patched me up after the impromptu sword fight I had with him. He’s so talented, he only used a wooden sword when I was using a real blade! And he beat me so decisively! The girl told me after that their names are Makomo and Sabito. I think they’re going to help me cut the boulder!’” Giyuu choked, staring wide eyed at the names. He reread them over and over, making sure he didn’t mistake the letters for another name. How the hell did Tanjiro learn those names? Sabito had been dead for 8 years, and Makomo even longer. Giyuu had never even met her - he only knew about her from Urokodaki’s stories - and Tanjiro claimed he met them both? Together?  

Even when he turned off the lantern and stretched his arm out for Nezuko to hold, Giyuu couldn’t calm his mind. How had Tanjiro learnt those names? Urokodaki rarely spoke about his dead students, but Tanjiro was claiming to have trained with them? Did he sword fight with ghosts?

Did that mean Sabito was still here?

***

The next night, Urokodaki was the one to wake them.

“I’ve finished the box,” he placed a new box between Giyuu and Nezuko. It was similar in shape and size to the last, but he had used different metalwork on the door and for the hinging. Different enough to not be an instant reminder of Tanjiro. Mind still stuck on what he had read the night before, he left Nezuko to inspect her new box as he turned to Urokodaki.

“We finished Tanjiro’s last journal last night, but he said that Sabito and Makomo trained him,” Giyuu’s voice was low, eyes flicking to check on Nezuko. She was inspecting the inside of her new box, not paying them any mind. 

“When I came back to him, after he’d cut the boulder, he mentioned their names in passing,” Urokodaki ran his fingers over the cover of the last journal, deep in thought. “He didn’t know they were dead.”

“Are you saying their ghosts trained him?” Giyuu raised one brow in disbelief. If that was the case, maybe Sabito was still around-

“Perhaps. But he might not show himself to you, if that’s what you’re asking for,” Urokodaki cut his thoughts off. Hurt, Giyuu’s gaze dropped. “You don’t need his advice like Tanjiro did. Sabito helped him train for the Final Selection, but you don’t need that from him.”

Under his breath, Giyuu muttered, “I didn’t even pass the Final Selection, maybe I do need help.” Reaching over, Urokodaki put his hand on Giyuu’s shoulder.

“Yes, you did pass. And even if we say you didn’t, you’re a pillar now. That’s more than enough to prove you’re worthy,” he squeezed Giyuu’s shoulder. “He’s still with you, even if you can’t see him. I’m sure Sabito trusted his dreams to you. And now Tanjiro has too.” 

Moving away to speak to Nezuko, Urokodaki left Giyuu alone with his thoughts. He could hear his teacher saying “he’s still here with you, Nezuko,” to her - she’d made a noise when he’d mentioned Tanjiro - but he paid them no mind. 

Sabito slapped him, so hard that he fell over. Wide eyed, with his hand clutching his cheek, Giyuu stared up at his friend.

“Don’t say that you’d be better off dying ever again. If you do, you and I are done. We will stop being friends. Your sister was supposed to get married the next day. Despite that, she hid you from the demons and protected you. You have nobody else? That’s an insult to your sister,” Giyuu felt tears well up in his eyes, but made no move to stop Sabito mid-rant. “You can’t die, ever. That life she lost to protect you? That future she left for you? You’d throw all that away? For what? Out of guilt that you’re here and she’s not? She’s still with you. I’m still with you!”

They’re still with you, Giyuu.

Hand cupping his left cheek, Giyuu turned to look at Nezuko. She was hugging Urokodaki now, who stroked her hair comfortingly. The silver on her earrings caught the light of the lantern Urokodaki had brought, shining on Giyuu’s face. 

Tanjiro. He’s still with her. He had died for his sister, just like Tsutako had died for her brother. Giyuu and Nezuko were the only remaining members of their respective families, now. He had always known that, subconsciously, but now he knew . The hopes and dreams of their siblings rode on them both. They were more similar than he had initially realised. Two years ago, without knowing anything about Nezuko, he had gambled his life to save hers. Now that he had lived with her, he knew that was the right decision. 

Clenching his jaw, Giyuu promised her. No matter what, you will always have me.

***

They left not long after. Urokodaki had insisted they stay long enough for Giyuu to eat - also to make him promise to send letter updates on the both of them - but it wasn’t long before Giyuu shouldered the new box and set off with Nezuko, who kept waving until they could no longer catch sight of Urokodaki’s home. 

Making their way up the rough terrain of Mount Sagiri, Giyuu couldn’t help but wonder when the next time he would visit would be. Oyakata had given him permission to take time off from his pillar duties to get Nezuko situated, but he had to get back to them as soon as he could. Urokodaki was the last person alive who remembered Sabito, so he had avoided visiting for a long time out of his own guilt and grief. Stepping foot into his home made Giyuu’s bones ache; the quiet felt unnatural compared to his memories. Nezuko’s training had helped to fill that void - her giggles at his poor dancing, and the cheers she would force past her muzzle when she perfected a technique replaced the sombre silence from his memories. 

A squeak came from beside him, Nezuko’s eyes trained on a bird flying toward them. Holding out his arm, the crow landed sloppily on his forearm, Giyuu’s free hand snapping forward to hold it in place.

“What have I told you about your landings?” he scolded his old crow, checking it over for any injuries. A tremble shook its little body, making it fall off his arm into Giyuu’s hand. He sighed, cradling the bird in his arms instead. “You’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful.”

“Message from Oyakata,” it croaked out, nestling into his hold. “Demon activity around the Shinjuku ward of Tokyo.” Nodding, Giyuu prepared to throw the bird into the air to give it a kick start, but a tug on his haori stopped him.

Nezuko’s eyes were bright, staring straight at his crow. Hands hovering in midair, she was trying to reach up to it, but was holding herself back. Darting her eyes to meet his, she whined and tilted her head in question.

“Do you want to hold him?” Giyuu asked, after a pause. When Nezuko nodded, he gestured for her to cradle her arms like he had been, passing the crow over. His crow tensed when he put him down, chirping “demon?” in a shaky, fearful voice. To placate him, Giyuu stroked his head lightly. Cuddling the bird closer to herself, Nezuko nuzzled him, running one finger lightly down his head. The bird ducked at the sight of her claws, but when only the pad of her finger met his feathers, he loosened up. Smiling softly, Giyuu stepped back to watch them for a moment. No one was able to win over his crow that easily - it was too stubborn in its old age to heed his safety warnings, let alone to befriend anyone new. But watching the bird chirp at her, and butt his head into her like a cat warmed his heart. 

After a moment of Nezuko hugging the crow, he gently took it from her and gave it a boost back into the air. She whimpered when he threw it, brows furrowed together. 

“He can’t jump well anymore, throwing him helps him fly,” he explained to her, ruffling her hair a little. “You’ll see him again later.” 

Nezuko hummed to him, content. Changing direction to follow the birds path, Giyuu wondered when he’d gotten so good at understanding Nezuko’s communication style. He’d never been good with social cues before this, so what was it about Nezuko that was so easy? 

She silently ran alongside him, keeping up without the slightest issue. For a moment, he thought it was almost convenient she was a demon, but a coldness settled in his stomach. It was your fault she was like that, and now you’re grateful? Frowning, he shook the thought from his mind. It was only her stamina he was grateful for. Not any of the pain it brought her.

***

Giyuu slowed down, grabbing Nezuko before she could get too far ahead of him. 

“You did this with Tanjiro, didn’t you?” nodding, Nezuko stared ahead. He began walking into Shinjuku, Nezuko close behind. “Tell me if you see anything.” 

Passing by all of the small houses, he was on alert. Running through the village his crow led them to would only cause suspicion, so it was better for them to try to stay undercover. As undercover as they could get, with a sword, large box and a muzzled girl. Slouching, Giyuu sighed. That technique probably wouldn’t work anymore.

The deeper into the village he got, the more on edge he was. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but there was no demon nearby. Nobody was out of their homes at all. Nezuko looked similarly uncomfortable; with her brows pulled together as she scanned the area. Nothing was out of place - there wasn’t a speck of blood that was evidence of a demon presence. Pressing on, Giyuu strained his ears to see if he could hear any sound of a struggle, but the village was silent.

Too silent.

Entering the first home he saw, begging forgiveness for the intrusion, Giyuu ran through to find the occupants. In the bedroom, he found a young couple - they couldn’t have been older than 20 - and their infant, sound asleep. Neither he nor Nezuko had exactly been quiet. Why aren’t they awake? 

Shaking the man’s shoulder, Giyuu attempted to wake him, but his head flopped on the pillow. Frowning, he shook the man harder, but nothing worked. Two fingers against his neck confirmed that he was alive, but he refused to wake. Asking for forgiveness once more, Giyuu tried to wake the woman and the child, but neither rose. Looking back at Nezuko, he saw her eyes trained on the door to the house. Without a backward glance, she walked out of his eyeline. 

“Who are you?” a young voice cried, breath hitching. In a flash, Giyuu was in the entranceway of the house. Nezuko stood in front of a child in a yellow yukata, who was holding onto a small kitchen knife. He was crying, fat tears bubbling over his lower lashes, dripping onto his collar. Moving his knife between both of them, whole body trembled. “Get away from my sister!” 

Nezuko tried to move toward him, hands outstretched, but the child whimpered and slashed the knife at her hands. Yanking them back, she froze in place.

“I said-” he hiccuped, knife shaking violently in his weak grip. “I said stay away!” 

“What happened to your sister?” Giyuu put his hand on Nezuko’s shoulder, and gently moved her behind him. The kid trained his knife on him instead. 

“She won’t wake up! No one will wake up! Not her husband, or my niece, or the neighbours! Why am I the only one awake?” he sobbed, weakly lunging toward Giyuu. Heart clenching, he dodged the lunge. Grabbing the kid’s hand, Giyuu took the knife from him with no resistance. 

“What’s your name?” Giyuu asked, letting him go.

“Aki… Akihiko,” he sniffled, rubbing the tears from his cheeks.

“Are you hurt?” Giyuu scanned him over, finding no trace of blood. Akihiko shook his head, scrubbing the last of the tears from his face. Nezuko whined, hands twitching to reach out to the boy. Through wettened lashes, he looked up at her, flinching a little when he reached over to pat his head, but accepting nonetheless. 

“Akihiko, could you stay with your sister to protect her? We will wake her up,” Giyuu offered him back the knife, Akihiko tentatively reaching out to take it. This time, his grip was steady. Steeling himself, he set his shoulders and stood in his sister’s bedroom, guarding the doorway. Nezuko close behind, Giyuu left the small house, scanning the streets as he moved. Any house with a low window he peeked into, shame crawling up his neck at the inappropriate action, but he found everyone was knocked unconscious. 

Reaching what felt like the centre of the city, he finally sensed the telltale maliciousness that radiated from demons. Nezuko tensed beside him, training her scowl on the shadows before them. Growling, she lunged forward. Giyuu’s hand shot out, catching her midair. Feet scrambling for purchase on the ground, Nezuko regained her balance to pout at him for stopping her. 

“Wait,” Giyuu whispered, watching as white gas crept along the ground from the shadows, climbing up walls through the open windows of people’s homes. Faintly, Giyuu could hear the thuds of bodies hitting the floor. 

“Oh? What do we have here?” a silky voice came from the shadows, announcing a woman’s presence. Giyuu was silent as the demon revealed herself. Choppy grey hair bounced as she moved, red kimono open as far as the wraps would allow. Occasionally, the demon would scratch along her exposed skin, raking bloody trails along herself. Blood bubbled up from the scratches, fading into the white mist coating the ground before it could form a droplet. “A demon slayer and a demon companion? How unusual,” she hid her smirk behind her clawed hand. 

Tightening his grip on Nezuko, Giyuu held her in place. The white mist was creeping toward them both now; he didn’t know what effect it might have on her. 

“My name is Noriko,” the demon whispered, releasing more gas into the area. “You’re a pillar, aren’t you? I can sense it,” she looked him up and down, licking her lips. “If I kill you, I’d become one of the twelve moons for sure.” 

Rolling his eyes, Giyuu deadpanned her. Nezuko growled louder, her muscles tensing under Giyuu’s grip. Quietly, he released her with a warning “stay here”, as he thumbed his sword from its sheath. 

“Can you make your guard dog stop growling at me?” Noriko whined, scowling at Nezuko. “She’s boring.” 

Shooting Nezuko a warning look, he affirmed she’d stay in place. The white mist had crept to their feet; tendrils were wrapped around Giyuu’s ankles, crawling up his calves. It didn’t seem to be holding him in place, so before either demon could react, he sliced off her head. 

She screamed - a guttural sound, tearing past her cut windpipe. A thud echoed through the street when her head hit the ground, screaming all the while. 

“You cut my head! You cut my head!” she warbled, red eyes trained on Giyuu. Ignoring her screeching, he sheathed his sword. “I didn’t even see you move!” 

Looking down at the demon’s head on the ground, Giyuu rolled his eyes again. Her face was crumbling already, ash floating away in the soft breeze. White fog dissipated the more Noriko’s body crumbled away. Faintly, he could hear people stirring in the nearest homes; lanterns and lights flicked on along the streets. Nezuko jogged to stand by Giyuu, both watching as the demon’s screams cut short with the final piece of dust falling to the ground. 

“Ready to go?” he asked Nezuko, who hadn’t stopped staring at the empty kimono on the ground. She looked up at him, wide-eyed. Staring for a moment, neither moved until Nezuko blinked, nodding. 

The moon was starting its downward path in the sky, so Giyuu decided to take her to his personal estate. She had whined when they left the city, trying to pull him back to Akihiko’s house when they passed by his street. Shaking his head, he kept moving past without a backward glance.

“He doesn’t need to be scared of demons,” Giyuu muttered, staring straight ahead. Nezuko pouted, but relented, following him away. “Too many ‘ko’ names,” he whispered to himself, scrunching his nose.

Protecting the boy’s innocence had been part of his reasoning, but his heart was heavy looking at the little brother protecting his older sister. If only he had been brave enough, then-  

A tug at his hand broke his thoughts. Nezuko smiled up at him as they ran, and if Giyuu didn’t know better he would have thought she knew what he was thinking about. Squeezing hers back, he sped up his pace.

By the time they had reached his house, the moon had almost completely set. The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour, however, so they had time for the home improvement project he had planned.

Dropping her hand, Giyuu walked behind his house to the stack of wood that was haphazardly strewn about. Selecting the best, flattest pieces, he brought them inside. Nezuko hummed in confusion, following him around his house and watching as he stacked wood beneath one of the windows in one of the bedrooms, gathering other tools to hammer them in.

“Could you pass these to me?” Giyuu handed her a pile of nails, holding a board against the window with his hammer - that he couldn’t remember why he had, but was grateful for now - in hand. Confused, Nezuko nodded slowly, passing him a singular nail. As he slowly boarded up the window, she got more enthusiastic about the task, even going so far as to try and hammer one in herself. 

“Hold it a little straighter so you don’t crush your thumb,” Giyuu worried, as Nezuko brought the hammer down indiscriminately. Almost putting a hole through the board first, she managed to wonkily hammer in the nail, whipping her head toward Giyuu for praise. Quirking the corner of his lips, he took the tool back from her with a quiet “good job Nezuko.” Humming happily, she took back his pile of nails, passing them over without his asking. 

When the window was boarded over, Giyuu nailed a spare blanket over the window for extra protection. The room was now pitch black; the only visible light came from the lanterns he had brought with him. Checking the hallway, he made sure none of the sunrise could reach her before gesturing Nezuko to follow him. Taking the unused boards and nails from her new room, he threw the boards back outside haphazardly. Nezuko growled lightly at the mess, taking the nails from him and stacking them tidily on their shelf. Huffing, she looked between the window and Giyuu, judging his mess.

“I’ll… stack them later?” he offered, rubbing the back of his neck. Growling again, she accepted. Eyes wide, Giyuu turned away from her. Something tells me she won’t forget that.

Leading her to the closet in the hall, he let her have free choice of whatever futons and pillows she would like. “Take them all if you want,” he said flippantly when she brought her fists to her chest, indecisive. “I already have one in my room.” 

Finally, after a long time of hard staring at his outrageous number of spare futons, she selected one. They all looked exactly the same, so he was baffled it took her so long. Nezuko hummed happily when he took it down for her, so at least she was pleased with her choice. Helping her lay out the futon, he picked up one of the lanterns and left the other for her. 

“The sun’s up now, so if you need me, knock on the walls and I’ll hear you,” nodding Nezuko crawled under her futon, peering up at him beneath his blankets. Sliding the door shut behind him as he left, Giyuu breathed out heavily. It was odd, having someone else stay in his home. Oyakata gave all of the pillars large estates when they reached that status, but with that meant many spare bedrooms that Giyuu could never fill. It was nice, not being the only one present. 

Making himself tea, he looked out over the messy wooden boards he had thrown out the window. Maybe he should do that before sleeping?

He sat at his little tea table, letting the sun warm him for the first time in weeks. Inadvertently, he had gone fully nocturnal with Nezuko now, so it was comforting to finally feel its warmth again. Taking a sip, he closed his eyes for a moment in the silence.

A crash against the window broke the peace. Whipping his head around, Giyuu saw his crow tottering around on the ground in a daze. Sighing, he placed down his cup and grabbed the bird, noting the little note wrapped around its leg. When the bird stopped wobbling in his grasp, he set it on the table.

“Message from Oyakata,” he chirped, proffering his leg. Giyuu took the note.

Kyojuro Rengoku has gone missing on the demon train. Sanemi Shinazugawa and Gyomei Himejima are being dispatched to deal with it, and locate his whereabouts.

Huh? 

Rengoku went… missing? How was that even possible? The train wasn’t one of the Upper Moons, so for that demon to take out a pillar was unthinkable. Dumbfounded, Giyuu reread the note, searching for any sign of a trick, but coming up short.

He knew what that meant. Missing didn’t mean missing. It meant Rengoku was devoured, but there was no trace left behind to prove it. 

Kyojuro Rengoku was dead. 

Chapter Text

Rengoku being dead was unexpected. Unsure of how to process it, Giyuu stared at the paper, he drank his now-cold tea, letting the words sink in. This was not the first death of a fellow pillar he had experienced in his own time as one - he remembered the death of Kocho’s sister, Kanae, clearly - but this one felt off. How had a non-Upper Moon demon managed to kill such a long-standing pillar? It was unheard of. Looking over to the door that blocked Nezuko from the sun, he frowned. Everything was different since she arrived. 

A chirp from his crow caught his attention. Kicking his hand, the crow questioned if he would send Oyakata a response. Before Giyuu shook his head, he stopped himself. Maybe he wouldn’t send a letter about Rengoku’s death, but he did have something else to write about. Picking up the supplies for writing a letter, he sat down to craft his own.

Dear Oyakata,

I hope this letter reaches you in good health. I apologise for the abruptness of my request, but I have been training Nezuko in Water Breathing during my leave of absence from pillar duties, and she has progressed a long way in that short time. Despite her not having passed the Final Selection, I would like to request that she be made a nichirin blade of her own, for added protection as she travels alongside me. I will take responsibility for the blade being in her hands, if you allow her to have one. 

Sincerest regards,

Giyuu Tomioka.

Tying the letter to his crow’s leg, he ensured it was as secure as it could possibly be without hurting the bird. Giyuu hunched down until he was eye level with the crow.

“Take this to Oyakata,” he instructed, not breaking eye contact. “Repeat to me, who are you delivering the letter to?” the bird stuttered out an “Oyakata,” Giyuu making him repeat the recipient until he was satisfied. Taking his crow outside, he gave him a lift into the air and set him off.

That night, he woke to the sound of his door sliding open, but he kept his eyes closed. Soft pattering of feet came to a stop near his head, followed by a cushioned thud of Nezuko’s knees coming to rest on the floor. Feeling her hands hovering over him, he waited for her next move, but only felt her pull the blanket up over his shoulders and stroke the hair out of his face. As quietly as she entered, she crept back out again, leaving him to sleep some more. Staring at the now closed door though the darkness, Giyuu’s eyes were wide. He hadn’t had anybody care for him like that in a long time. Straining his ears, he could faintly hear Nezuko walking around in his kitchen. With a hum of contentment, he closed his eyes again, letting himself sleep in for longer than usual. 

When the moon was high in the sky, he sat up, groaning. About to roll out of his futon, he stopped, seeing a cup of water sat next to him that very much hadn’t been there before. That’s what she was doing in the kitchen . Smiling softly, he drained the cup and brought it out with him. Through his window he could see Nezuko swinging around a training sword - Giyuu wasn’t entirely sure where she had found that, nor the second one laying on the ground beside her - practicing the styles that had been giving her trouble at Urokodaki’s. As he went outside to meet her, he picked up his own sword. A bright blue glint caught his eye as he moved to exit. His nichirin blade from before he became a pillar was sitting in the corner of the room, unused. Being a pillar meant he got a new blade with engravings on the side, but they never asked for his old one back. So here it stayed, out of commission unless his current blade broke. Grabbing that as well, Giyuu joined Nezuko outside.

“That Tenth Style was much better than last time,” he commented, walking over to her. Taking the wooden blade from her grasp, he offered the old sword. “This was my sword before I became a pillar. Would you like to borrow it?” 

Slowly, Nezuko reached out to grab the sword, eyes meeting Giyuu’s for approval before she took it from him. Stepping back, he let her run through her styles with sword in hand, getting used to how to wield an actual blade. Whenever necessary, he adjusted her grip, as her claws tended to get in the way. Before long, she was moving as fluidly as with her wooden sword. Nezuko ran over to him, pushing the sword in his direction for them to practice her dance again. Pausing, rather than grabbing it he pushed it gently back toward her. 

“Lets run it through with swords today,” Giyuu pulled out his own, walking over to the clearing. Confused, Nezuko inspected the sword in her hands, but quickly ran over to him anyway. This time, rather than using their hands for arm movements, both slashed their swords. When they had run it through once, Giyuu was certain this was a modified breath style.

“Breath of the dance of the fire god?” he whispered to himself, looking out to his extended sword. Head tilted, Nezuko thought over his mutter. Nodding to herself, she sped through the first sequence of the dance, slashing the sword harder than the ordinary arm movement called for. The force it created was similar to the First Style of his own breath style, but she hadn’t tried as hard as she could have. Regardless, the leaves were blown off of the bushes surrounding his estate.

Giyuu would have to look into this family. There was no way their traditional dance was not created by a swordsman.

Before he could try one of the sequences as a breath style himself, an irritated noise broke his concentration. Finding Nezuko huffing at something along the other side of his house, Giyuu frowned. He jogged over to meet her, following her pointed finger to see the haphazardly strewn boards from earlier. Sighing, his shoulders drooped. 

Giyuu turned to plead with Nezuko, but before he could open his mouth she reached up and flicked him on the forehead. Hard. Free hand flying to cover the spot, his eyes were blown wide. That was a deadly flick she had on her. With more force, she pointed again toward the boards, crossing her arms over her chest. In defeat, Giyuu sheathed his blade and meandered over to the pile, stacking them with his now-child size demon supervisor watching over his shoulder. 

By the time she was happy with his cleaning, the sun was soon to rise. About to usher Nezuko back inside, Giyuu paused at the sight of a sparrow flying straight towards them. Landing straight on top of his head, Nezuko giggled in delight, little hands reaching up towards his head. Baffled, Giyuu picked her up, holding her against his chest as she grabbed at the bird. After some shuffling, she presented him with a letter - that was only slightly torn by her claws - that had her name written on the outside. Bird still sat on his head, he carried Nezuko inside and read the letter.

Nezuko~!

I miss you! Come visit m- us, at the Butterfly Estate soon! 

Love,

Your Zenitsu AND INOSUKE 

P.S. sorry for the scribble, Inosuke made me read the letter out to him and insisted on being included

P.S.S. Chuntaro misses you too, he pecked me when I left him off this letter

The rest of the paper that did not contain words was decorated in little hearts, as well as a drawing of what Giyuu presumed was Zenitsu carrying Nezuko bridal style. The bird on his head - Chuntaro, he presumed - jumped off, landing in Nezuko’s open palms. Cooing at it, she stroked the bird for a bit as it chirped back at her. Giyuu read the letter out to Nezuko, showing her the drawing - at which she stared blankly, with no reaction - but nonetheless, she seemed like she wanted to go. 

“We can go tomorrow night, if you want,” Giyuu passed the letter to her, taking her borrowed sword to place back in its spot. Humming in approval, Nezuko took Chuntaro to the window, letting him fly away without a response. Kocho might be annoyed that he turn up with no warning, but it was too late now. With a little wave, Nezuko ran off to her room before the first ray of sun filtered through the window.

***

Just before they left the next night, Giyuu passed Nezuko his old sword. Helping her attach it to her waist, he made sure it was secure before they followed his crow out. Conveniently, their next destination was a small village between his house and the Butterfly Estate.

The village was even smaller than the one they had been to previously. There were few houses, all spread far apart. All there was for lighting was the moon; no lanterns or other lights were present like in bigger cities. Unlike Shinjuku, Giyuu could hear faint rustling of movement in the houses they passed. Following the demon presence, they crept through the village until they reached the opposite side. 

Atop one of the larger houses sat a boy. He had red hair, with similarly red cat ears. Giyuu could faintly see a tail flicking behind him, concealed mostly by a crouch. When they were spotted, the boy jumped before them. Yellow sclera were only broken by his slit pupil, but this made him look more like a cat than a demon, especially with the thin whiskers coming from his cheeks. It was almost cute, and definitely was not threatening. 

“Slayer? Here?” he forced past pointed teeth, tongue awkwardly wrapping around the words. The boy looked too… easy for Giyuu to bother with, but movement from his side gave him another idea.

“Nezuko, why don’t you try to cut his head?” he turned to her, gesturing to the sword strapped to her side. “Aim for the neck.”

Nodding, she drew her sword only to be met with impossibly long claws at her throat. With a growl, she went to rake them with her own claws, but Giyuu’s hand on her arm stopped her. The boy retracted them, ears flicking toward her curiously. 

“Demon?” he pointed with a claw, tail flicking faster behind him. “Slayer demon?” 

Tightening her grip on the sword, Nezuko nodded, widening her stance when Giyuu moved out of the way. 

“Demon like Tatsuo?” the boy lisped over his own name, dumbfounded. Baring his teeth, he turned his attention to Giyuu, extending his claws towards his neck. Hand on his sword hilt, Giyuu jumped back, but the claws fell to the ground before they could reach him. Nezuko landed her Second Style flip, positioning herself in front of Giyuu. Bemused, he let her protect him. 

Growling, Tatsuo charged her. She readjusted her grip on the hilt, slashing her sword like a wave through Third Style, dancing the blade cleanly through the boy’s arms. Jumping back, she let them fall on the ground. Screaming echoed through the village.

Brows drawn together, Nezuko whimpered at the boy’s pain. She looked back at Giyuu, steeling herself at his nod of reassurance. With a heaving chest, Tatsuo raised his freshly-grown claws back at her. Barely dodging, she leapt back as far as she could, weaving between his claws in Ninth Style. Feet just tapping the ground, she was back in front of him in an instant. Quickly, she slashed her blade through his neck, his head rolling off his shoulders with a thud. Nezuko stayed still, only turning back to Giyuu when the last piece of the boy had crumbled away. 

When their eyes connected, her face crumpled. Dropping her sword, she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Caught off guard, Giyuu froze. Wetness seeped through the front of his uniform, Nezuko’s shoulders shaking against his chest. Frowning, he wrapped his arms around her; one hand cradling the back of her head. She clutched on as tight as she could without using her claws. Hunching over until his chin rested on the top of her head, Giyuu stayed still until she was ready to pull away. 

Pulling herself out of his hold, Nezuko sniffled. She rubbed her face dry with the sides of her fists. Still silent, Giyuu picked up her sword for her, letting her sheath it once more. 

“It’s okay to cry,” he finally said, when they started walking on to the Butterfly Estate, Nezuko lagging behind him. “For your first kill, I mean.”

Angling her head to face him, Nezuko trained her eyes on his face.

“I did, too,” keeping his gaze locked ahead, remembering the face of the first demon he had killed. Giyuu had stared straight into the demon’s eyes as he crumbled away, realising that even though he was a demon he had been a human, at some point. “It gets easier, if you believe that you’re freeing them from their curse.” 

Faraway look in her eyes, Nezuko nodded softly. Reaching out, she grabbed onto Giyuu’s sleeve to comfort herself, like she had to sleep at Urokodaki’s. After a few steps, he pulled her hand off. When she pouted, and tried to retract her arm, Giyuu grabbed her hand in his and squeezed. Smiling softly to herself, she squeezed his hand back and caught up, matching his pace.

***

Walking up to the Butterfly Estate gates was comforting. He had never told Kocho - trying to avoid her teasing - but Giyuu always felt content at her estate. It felt much better than staying at his own all alone. Nezuko seemed a bit happier, too, staring up at the butterflies that sat atop the gates. Pushing it open, they walked inside to raucous yelling.

“INOSUKE! IT’S BECAUSE OF YOU THAT NEZU DIDN’T REPLY TO MY LOVE LETTER!” Zenitsu yelled, flapping his oddly empty sleeves wildly at Inosuke. Inosuke, wildly cackling, brandished two wooden swords at him.

“She probably can’t even read!” cackling again, he started chasing the other boy around the lawn, who was screaming something along the lines of “neither can you!” back to him. Giyuu, dumbfounded, looked between Nezuko and Zenitsu before settling on her. Quietly, he muttered “love letter?” to which she showed him the crude drawing Chuntaro had dropped off. Shaking his head a little, Giyuu watched as Inosuke caught Zenitsu and raised him above his head, cackling even louder than before about being “Boss Inosuke”. When he calmed down in the air, Zenitsu finally noticed the pair standing by the gate. Wriggling his way out of Inosuke’s grasp, he was in front of Nezuko in a flash.

“Nezu!! You got my letter!” Zenitsu clapped his hands by his jaw, smiling at her with his eyes closed. Opening them, he saw Nezuko holding Giyuu’s hand. Recognition flickered across his widening eyes. “YOU! CREEPY GUY! WHY ARE YOU HOLDING NEZUKO’S HAND?” Zenitsu felt like he had grown in size to tower over them both, jabbing his finger in Giyuu’s face. Aghast, he stared at him, remaining silent. Nezuko shuffled one step closer to him, not unnoticed by Zenitsu’s watchful eye. Incoherently screaming, Zenitsu placed one hand on the hilt of his sword before a double clap froze him in place.

“Zenitsu, please remember I told you Tomioka is a pillar, so you have to show him respect,” Kocho smiled thinly, eyebrow twitching. “Don’t get jealous over Nezuko’s caretaker. And please, keep in mind that it is the middle of the night, my patients are resting.” 

On his knees in front of her, Zenitsu begged for forgiveness. Giyuu could almost see steam rising off of her as she accepted his apologies through gritted teeth. Inosuke ran towards them, bending to stare Nezuko dead in the eye. 

“You have a sword now? Fight me!” he declared, brandishing his swords wildly. Zenitsu, peeking from behind Kocho - where he had started following her like a toddler as she walked to join them - had lost all the colour in his face. Through Inosuke’s declarations of battle, Giyuu could hear him whisper-yelling.

“Why does she have a sword? A cute little girl, fighting demons? You gave her a sword, Tomioka? I’ll kill you,” he hissed, lowering his volume at Kocho’s silent knuckle cracking. 

“Your brother never fought me, but you can replace him,” a wild smile stretched Inosuke’s cheeks, which were surprisingly exposed. Tilting his head, Giyuu searched for his mask but came up empty.

“Where’s your mask?” he finally spoke, eyes trained on his dual swords. 

“NOW YOU SPEAK? AND TO INOSUKE, AT THAT?” Zenitsu screamed, pushing past Kocho to confront Giyuu again, causing Nezuko to pull him back by their hands. Letting out another ungodly screech at the reminder, Zenitsu took a deep breath to start yelling again only to be silenced by a faceful of medicine water.

“IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, SHUT UP!” the girl who fixed Nezuko’s box yelled, waving the empty, but still dripping cup in his face.

“Aoi, you’re louder than them both,” Kocho was visibly tense, forehead veins protruding through her twitches of rage. “Tomioka, this is why I tell you to send a letter before you arrive,” she forced past her clenched jaw, keeping the light tone to her voice. Flinching, Giyuu opened his mouth to defend himself, but she merely raised her hand to silence him. “Everyone, out the back. Now.”

Aside from Nezuko, who smiled at Kocho when she met her gaze, everyone hung their heads and stalked off to the backyard. Nezuko skipped happily alongside Giyuu, watching all the brightly coloured butterflies float by under the moon. When they got to the backyard, he realised Kocho had sent them to the staff bedroom wing of the estate, rather than the infirmary wing, so their yelling could recommence. 

Letting go of Giyuu’s hand, Nezuko ran over to Zenitsu and Inosuke, where the former began launching into a grandiose reenactment of how much he had missed her. Inosuke interjected with requests to battle, which were shut down by Zenitsu every time.

“So, you did get his letter after all,” Kocho sat on the engawa, watching the trio catch up with each other. Nodding, Giyuu sat next to her. “Did you give her your old sword?” 

“I’m training her,” he offered, cupping his cheek. “She needed a sword.”

“You couldn’t get her a better one than that?” Kocho poked his arm, teasing lilt to her voice. “She had to have your hand-me-downs?” with a look of disgust, she turned to look back at Nezuko.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he frowned, looking down at her. Waving her hand flippantly, she singsonged “don’t mind” until he turned away.

“If you’re training her then, Tomioka, will she be your tsuguko? Is that even allowed, if she can’t pass the Final Selection?” resuming her poking of his arm, Kocho seemed intent on bruising his upper arm. Hunching, Giyuu resigned himself to his bruised fate. He shrugged, earning a huff of displeasure. 

“Here I was, thinking you’d speak to me this time! Especially when you turned up at my estate in the middle of the night! My, my, Tomioka - what would everyone think seeing this?” jabbing her finger hard in the same spot of his arm, she smiled thinly up at him. “You surprise me in the middle of the night-”

“I sent a letter to Oyakata about Nezuko,” faint blush on his cheeks, Giyuu cut her off. He wasn’t sure why he put up with her teasing sometimes. 

“And yet you couldn’t reply to Zenitsu on Nezuko’s behalf! I’m disappointed, Tomioka. I thought you would be making progress in the friend department,” Kocho twisted her face into an exaggerated pout, expressing her concern. 

“Fine, I’m sorry I didn’t send a letter saying we were coming,” giving in, he batted her finger away from his upper arm. Satisfied, Kocho’s smile warmed.

“That wasn’t so hard now was it?” she trilled, clapping her hands by her cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, Giyuu saw Kocho’s tsuguko sit down next to her. “I’m sorry, Kanao, did we wake you?” real concern lacing her tone this time, Kocho laid her hand on the girl’s - Kanao’s - upper arm, gently rubbing her thumb across it. Shaking her head, Kanao stayed quiet, observing Nezuko being chased around the estate by Zenitsu and Inosuke.

“Those two are from your Selection, why don’t you go join them?” she suggested, tilting her head toward the trio. Smiling at Kocho, she didn’t acknowledge her words otherwise. With a heavy sigh, she released Kanao, turning back toward Giyuu. 

“I see you got a new box then,” a gruff voice came from behind them. Bending his neck back, Giyuu saw Aoi hovering above him. She gestured toward the box, grabbing hold of it when he shrugged it off. “If she’s going to have a sword, would you like me to attach a strap to the side of the box for carrying purposes?” Aoi was inspecting the inside of the box all the while, knocking on certain parts to see how sturdy it was. Nodding, Giyuu accepted. Aoi took the box inside without further questions, pleased with her new task. 

“Aoi had a lot of fun fixing the box for you last time,” Kocho hummed, watching her retreating back disappear into the estate. “She seems happy to have a new task.”

Nezuko ran over to the engawa, grabbing on to Giyuu as soon as she arrived. Inosuke sprinted up behind her, swords at the ready. She gestured to her own sword as well as his, readying herself to take it out of the sheath. Placing his hand on hers, he stopped her. 

“Kocho, do you have training swords?” he glanced at her, seeing as she delegated Kanao to go get them. Pouting, Nezuko tugged on her sword again lightly. “You can’t train with them with that sword. It’s too dangerous for a demon.”

She frowned, but took the sword off her hip, handing it over. Giyuu laid it next to him, handing over the wooden sword Kanao passed him when she returned. Settling in, the three of them watched as Inosuke finally got his wish to spar with Nezuko.

“I’ve been trying to teach them Total Concentration Breathing,” Kocho rested her cheek on her fist as Nezuko parried a strong hit from Inosuke. “But without Tanjiro, they lack motivation. How did you convince her to train with you?” she looked over at him, the usual teasing glint missing from her eyes.

“I asked,” he winced, hearing one of Inosuke’s swords crack a bit under the force of Nezuko’s. “She wanted to.” 

A contemplative look spanned Kocho’s face as she considered his words. Nodding once, she jumped over to the sparring, trying to put a stop to it to collect the now-broken sword.

Glancing over at Kanao, he saw a glint of gold from her hand. Curious, he watched more openly as she flicked it in the air, checking what side it landed on. Satisfied with her toss, she turned to him with an empty smile on her face.

“You let her choose, even though she’s a demon?” her voice was light, yet it matched the blankness of her smile. “You didn’t give her any instructions?” 

Shaking his head no, Giyuu’s eyes flicked from the coin to her face before settling on a response. “No. Nezuko can do what she wants,” seeing Kocho had collected all the swords, and replaced them with giant gourds instead, he continued. “Just because she’s a demon, doesn’t mean she can’t decide for herself.” 

With another flip of her coin, Kanao peered over to Nezuko before returning her focus to him. “So, she wants to travel with you then, now that her brother’s dead?”

“Nezuko told me she wanted to stay with me,” he said softly, a slight smile on his face as he remembered her dropping the box at his feet. 

Eyes wide, Kanao stared at him for a moment, smile slipping from her face. Shakily, she tried to flip her coin again, but it rolled from her thumb onto the ground in front of Giyuu. Picking it up, he went to hand it back over, but the desperate look on her face made him reconsider. Instead, he curled his fingers over it, enclosing the coin in his palm. 

“Why do you ask?” he pried, watching her reaction. Kanao’s arm twitched, fingers stretching towards his hand, but she froze in midair. Sweat beaded along her hairline, gathering at the corners of her face. Her mouth opened and closed for a while, failing to push the words out. They sat in silence for a while, Kanao still trying to speak while staring at his hand; Giyuu trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. 

“I… ah....” she stammered, sweat began to drip down her face. Choking down her saliva, she knitted her eyebrows together at the effort it took to push her words out. “Need it!” 

“You need it? For what?” opening his palm, Giyuu inspected the coin, seeing nothing unusual on its surface. Arm outstretched, she tried to grab it from him, but he closed his fingers around it once more. Scrunching her eyes closed, she balled her hands into tight fists.

“To make decisions!” Kanao forced out, exhaustion written over her face. So, she flips the coin to make her decisions? Why can’t she make them on her own? Surely Kocho has tried to train her out of this by now… but maybe that’s what the coin itself is for. If that’s the case then the coin can be used to force her into having her own autonomy...

“Why can’t you just make them yourself?” Giyuu asked her, a slight frown on his face. Shaking her head, she only whimpered in response. “If you question whether to decide for yourself to via the coin, can you follow through if it lands on the right side?” 

Sucking air through her teeth sharply, Kanao’s eyes blew wide. She stared at him, mulling it over. Finally, after a few minutes, she slumped over and nodded. 

“Nezuko?” Giyuu called quietly, eyes meeting with hers. “Could you come here?” dropping the gourd - almost on Kocho’s feet, she would blame him for that later - Nezuko ran over, stopping in front of him. Grabbing her hand, he passed her Kanao’s coin.

“Could you flip that coin for me?” humming a yes, she tossed it in the air, catching it on the back of her hand and keeping it covered. “Kanao, what side should be for you to make decisions for yourself?” pointedly, he directed the question toward her. He didn’t want there to be any doubt about his tampering with the result. Face covered by her hands, she peeked through the gaps in her fingers. Seeing both of their intent gazes trained on her, she whispered a soft “heads” before hiding her eyes again. 

Uncovering her hand, Nezuko presented it to Giyuu. He caught sight of the tails side of the coin, before a strong gust of wind knocked her off balance, throwing the coin on the ground. Her earrings clinked in the force of the gust, catching his attention for a second. The coin rolled, wobbling in its path before finally settling by Kanao’s feet, heads side up. Softly, she gasped, picking up the coin with both shaky hands, studying the heads face of it. Humming happily, Nezuko reached over and stroked Kanao’s hair. Snapping her head up, she stared in wonder at Nezuko, her jaw slackened. With a gulp, she slowly spoke.

“You don’t hate me for trying to kill you?” Kanao whispered, training her eyes back on the coin in shame. Smiling brightly, Nezuko took one of Kanao’s hands into her own, pulling her up and taking her over to Zenitsu and Inosuke. There, she resumed trying to blow into the gourd around her muzzle, Kanao now standing shell-shocked by her side. After telling Kanao to monitor their breath exercises, Kocho rejoined Giyuu on the engawa. 

“Since when were you so chatty, pleasant, and helpful?” she asked, incredulous look on her face. Giyuu’s expression mirrored hers, offended. “Don’t look at me like that, you might’ve just convinced Kanao to think for herself, something we have been working on for years . In just a few minutes! Nezuko’s a good influence on you,” she poked his cheek once, much lighter than usual. 

“No she isn't,” he frowned, rubbing his cheek. 

“Yes she is, you’ve never taken an interest in people other than yourself in all the time that I’ve known you,” her smile was far less fake now, lighting up her face. “I’ve also never seen you so comfortable with affection before. It’s a good thing! Turns out constant companionship is doing you wonders,” turning his head, he hid his face from Kocho. With a firm poke to the back of his head, she tried to reclaim his attention. “By the way, Tomioka, I blame you for Nezuko dropping the gourd on my foot just before.” 

Sighing, Giyuu dropped his neck until his head rested on his back. “I knew you would.”

“So you are observant sometimes!” she clapped, giggling lightly. “If that’s the case, what do you think the reason is that Zenitsu requested Nezuko to come back here?”

“He said he missed her,” Giyuu pondered, squinting at the pair trying - and failing - to break the gourds with breath alone. Nezuko was faring much worse than both of the boys, butting her muzzle against the opening helplessly. “They’re friends?”

“Yes they are, but wrong!” delighted, Kocho’s eyes lit up. “Guess again!”

“Training?”

“Wrong! That’s Inosuke’s reason, though, so that can be a quarter point.”

“He misses Tanjiro?”

“Partially, but still wrong!”

“He wants to do her hair?”

“Nope! Think about what type of letter it was, that he sent her.”

Groaning, he blankly stared at her, frustrated. She was enjoying this too much; every incorrect answer Giyuu gave elicited another giggle from her. Turning his gaze to Zenitsu, he frowned and narrowed his eyes. The boy yelped when he noticed, blood draining from his face.

“Please, tell me you figured it out from that reaction, Tomioka!” she cupped her mouth, whispering conspiratorially in his ear. Shaking his head, he prepared for yet another round of teasing. Hiding her giggle behind that same hand, Kocho leaned in even closer. “He’s got a crush on your sister.”

Taken aback, he leaned away from her in confusion. Crush? Your sister? Settling for questioning the most confusing part first, he tilted his head. “My sister?” dropping her head to her hands, Kocho groaned.

“How is that the thing you pick out, first of all? And secondly, Nezuko’s basically your little sister now, isn’t she?” Kocho had taken to massaging her temples, calming the headache that Giyuu supposed his presence brought her. 

“My little sister? But it’s only been a few weeks,” he whispered to himself, looking over to her again. It felt weird to say; Giyuu had never wanted to try and take Tanjiro’s place for her, so calling her his sister felt like he was overstepping those boundaries. And it had only been a few weeks that they’d been travelling together. But, if Nezuko thought that of him, then… 

“If you don’t feel ready for that title yet, it’s okay,” lighter tone to her voice, Kocho’s smile softened. “It took time for me to call Kanao my little sister after we adopted her, too.”

“You’re not related?” eyes wide, Giyuu brought his finger to his lips in thought. But they look so similar-

“If you’re thinking we look too similar to not be related, you wouldn’t be the first to say so,” she interrupted his train of thought, looking over at Kanao. She had finally broken her stupor, and was trying to help Nezuko blow into her gourd past her muzzle. “It helped her to feel as though she were part of our family when we were younger. But we aren’t talking about my family, we are talking about yours! Zenitsu’s crush on Nezuko, what are your thoughts?” she looked up at him, mischievous grin replacing the soft one she had earlier. Giyuu frowned, looking back over at Zenitsu, who was already looking at him. Flustered, the boy attempted to play it off, but he knocked over the gourd instead, gaining everyone’s attention. 

“No,” Giyuu muttered, looking between Zenitsu and Nezuko.

“Hmm?” Kocho hummed, trying to get in his line of sight. “What do you mean, no?”

“She’s too young,” grumbling, he caught Kocho’s extended finger before she could poke him.

“Is that all? Are you sure her age is the only factor?” tugging her finger from his grasp, she poked his cheek to egg him on. 

“He’s too desperate,” rather than move her hand, Giyuu poked Kocho’s cheek in retaliation. She blinked at him, stunned. An offended gasp echoed through the yard.

“I am NOT too desperate!” Zenitsu yelled, giving up on trying to act natural beside his upside down gourd. “You’re overbearing!” 

“Zenitsu, don’t forget! If you want to ask for Nezuko’s hand, then it’s Tomioka who has to agree now!” Kocho cupped her mouth, calling across the lawn to him. Zenitsu blanched, eyes flicking between Giyuu and Nezuko. Opting to stay silent, he picked up his gourd and blew into it twice as hard as he had before. 

“Ask for her hand?” Giyuu was aghast at the thought. There was absolutely no way he would ever agree for anyone to marry her. Not a chance. “Wait. It was a love letter.”

“I truly can’t believe it took you that long to remember it was a love letter, but we got there in the end. Look at you, I never thought I’d see the day! Giyuu Tomioka is being a protective big brother, who would’ve thought!” Kocho singsonged in his ear, smirking at him. “Oh, by the way, Zenitsu has hearing as good as Uzui. Sorry, it slipped my mind!” 

“Uzui has good hearing?” he couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to his fellow pillar, so this was news.

“Oh my god, Tomioka, how do you not know this?” Kocho laughed at him, not bothering to hide behind her hand this time. Shrugging, Giyuu rolled his eyes and turned away. They stayed quiet for a moment - Giyuu was shocked Kocho could coexist with him in silence without initiating teasing immediately - until a crow overhead broke the calm.

“EMERGENCY PILLAR MEETING! ALL PILLARS PLEASE REPORT TO OYAKATAS ESTATE!” it squawked, flying in circles above them. It kept repeating its phrase like an alarm. Looking at each other, Giyuu and Kocho bore similarly confused expressions.

“What the hell happened?” Kocho demanded, getting up off the engawa. “I know Rengoku’s missing, but we just had a meeting!” 

“Maybe something happened with Shinazugawa and Himejima?” Giyuu offered, following suit. The others in the yard came running over to meet with them.

“You three, stay here,” she pointed to the humans, looking each of them in the eye. “Kanao’s in charge in my absence.” 

“Nezuko, I need you to stay here with your friends,” Giyuu bent down to meet her eyes, putting one hand on her shoulder. Brows pulled together, she whined, shaking her head no. Trying to pull away, Giyuu took a step back only for Nezuko to launch herself at him, holding on as tight as she dared. He patted her on the back, trying to calm her down, but she buried her head further in his chest instead. 

“He’s not leaving you behind, Nezuko,” Kocho placed her hand on her arm, gently stroking it like she had to Kanao earlier. “We have to go to a meeting, but Tomioka will be back for you, he promises, don’t you, Tomioka?” gesturing to Nezuko with a flick of her head, Kocho silently advised him to agree.

“I promise I’ll be back,” he stroked her hair, careful to mind the green and black bow. 

“You have us here, Nezu! Don’t worry about it,” Zenitsu reached out for her, but Giyuu turned them around with a scowl. Inosuke yawned loudly, staring up at the crow with hunger in his eyes.

“Ah… Tomioka?” Kanao stuttered, eyes locked on her boots. “I can watch her, if you’d like.” 

Gently, he pulled Nezuko’s shoulders back from him. “Would you be okay to stay with Kanao?” nodding, she finally released him with a huff. The way she eyed him sent a shiver down his spine. Giyuu immediately knew that if he wasn’t back in a timely manner, he would be on the receiving end of another one of her deadly flicks. Saying their goodbyes, he and Kocho left the estate. Before it was too far out of sight, Giyuu turned back to see Nezuko waving goodbye. 

In favour of chatting, they stayed silent, running as fast as they could to Oyakata’s estate. By the time they had arrived, they were almost the last ones there.

“Flamboyantly late, I see!” Uzui called out to them first, without even turning around. Maybe he does have good hearing?

“Sorry, sorry!” Kocho curtsied a bit, waving all the while. “Tomioka got held up deciding what to do with Nezuko.” 

“Why were the two of you together in the middle of the night, Shinobu!” Kanroji simpered, grabbing on to Kocho’s hands. Giyuu felt like her pupils had turned into little hearts.

“Nothing like that, Kanroji,” Kocho smiled, but it was barely covering anger. “Nezuko was invited to my estate by some of her brother’s friends, so Tomioka brought her over.”

“So she had a playdate!” clapping, Kanroji squealed. “So cute! Tomioka, you’re so sweet for organising that!”

“I didn’t-”

“Can we start yet?” Tokito’s voice was monotone, betraying no emotion as he cut him off. “It’s the middle of the night. We should be hunting demons at this hour.”

“My apologies,” Amane Ubuyashiki stood before them all, serene smile on her face. “It appears that you have all arrived. Please, follow me to Oyakata.” 

Frowning, Giyuu did a headcount. He could only see seven of the pillars present, so who was missing? Everyone else looked confused, meeting each others' eyes as they silently followed her through the estate. 

Finally, they reached the room where Oyakata sat waiting for them. Amane took her place by his side, leaving the pillars to filter in silently after her. This time, Kanroji delivered the greeting on their behalf.

“Welcome, my children. I apologise for taking you away from your duties at this time, and for having another meeting so soon after our last. However, what I have recently learnt is most troubling, so much so I needed to share it with you at once,” the lanterns barely lit the room, heavily shadowing Oyakata’s eyes. “It is about your fellow pillars.”

“We never have meetings about dead pillars,” Tokito mumbled, blankly staring at the lantern in front of him. “Do we?”

“You’re right, Muichiro,” Oyakata smiled softly at him. “This is no regular changing to our members, however.”

Everyone sat up a little straighter, listening intently to what he had to say.

“As I’m sure most of you assumed from my letter, Kyojuro is dead. He was devoured by the demon train, Lower Moon One, when trying to protect the passengers on board. It seems that after Giyuu killed Lower Moon Five, Kibutsuji killed the rest of his Lower Moons aside from him.”

“Huh?” Iguro interjected, snake hissing quietly over his shoulder. “Why did he kill half of his subordinates?” 

“That, we do not know, Obanai,” Oyakata seemed troubled, but his serene smile was back on his face before long. “We can only presume that the death of Five set him off. Now that Lower Moon One is gone, it seems that all that remains is the Upper Moons.”

“So how did Rengoku die?” Uzui asked, cradling his chin in his fingers.

“The blood demon art used on Kyojuro trapped him within his own mind,” Oyakata’s voice softened at the news. “The demon knew he was a pillar, so he kept Kyojuro incapacitated. He was unable to break free without harming an innocent, and was devoured alongside the rest of the passengers.”

“That sounds like him,” Kanroji sniffled, her big eyes watery. “Refusing to kill an innocent to save himself!”

“Him refusing to kill is what got all of the passengers eaten along with him,” Uzui’s voice was sardonic, a sneer on his face. 

“But had he killed the person, there’s no saying he could have actually broken free of the blood demon art!” she cried, face contorted in her grief.

“Kanroji, there’s no point arguing now,” Iguro interjected, glaring pointedly at Uzui. “We shouldn’t waste time on what ifs we can’t change.”

“Especially when we know it’s his fault that they all died, without question,” Uzui stared straight back at Iguro, not flinching at the glower. Iguro’s jaw moved as if to speak once more, but Oyakata lifted one finger to his lips, and they both fell silent. 

“Sanemi and Gyomei killed Lower Moon One last night,” he spoke, smiling at them all once more. “Those people aboard the train have now been avenged. What I called you all here for, is what happened after that,” he paused, scanning all of the pillars. “Upper Moon Three, Akaza, made an appearance.”

“What?” Kocho exclaimed, eyes widening as she stared at Oyakata. “We haven’t seen any of the Upper Moons in years, why now?”

“Because Kibutsuji is making his move.”

A collective gasp tore through the room at Oyakata’s words.

“What move?” Tokito looked slightly interested, for once.

“I’m sure you all have noticed that someone is missing,” Oyakata’s quiet voice silenced everyone once more. “I don’t have confirmation that this theory is correct, but I do believe - considering the circumstances, and what Akaza told us - that this is the case.”

“So what, then?” Uzui questioned, looking perturbed. 

“Kibutsuji commanded his subordinate to kidnap a pillar, so he can turn them into a demon. I believe he wants this in order to access a pillar’s memories,” he paused, looking at everyone’s individual shell-shocked faces. “His subordinate - the demon Akaza - kidnapped Sanemi last night, with the intention of having him turned.”

“I wasn’t able to get to him,” Himejima finally spoke up, tears streaming down his angry face. “The train had been full of new passengers that I was protecting when Shinazugawa was knocked out. The Upper Moon had brought a horde of regular demons with him, and set them all off on the passengers while he ran away with Shinazugawa. By the time I had killed all of the demons, he was long gone.”

“Access a pillar’s memories,” Kocho whispered to herself, cupping her chin in thought. “Oyakata, is Kibutsuji after the location of our strongholds? Like the swordsmith village, Butterfly Estate, or this mansion?”

“I think so, yes. We have to be prepared in the event that he launches an attack at our hidden locations,” Oyakata was the most serious they had ever seen him. 

“So what do we do now?” Iguro asked, frown deep on his forehead.

“I would like for you all to keep this information to yourselves,” Oyakata turned to speak quietly with Amane, before turning back to them all. “Continue your training and take on tsugukos if you are able to, but don’t alert anyone about Sanemi’s location.”

After that, no one had much more to say. Giyuu stood up to file out with the rest of them, but before he could exit a voice called to him.

“Ah, Giyuu,” Oyakata stopped him in his tracks. “Would you be able to stay behind for a moment?” 

Nodding, he turned to walk further in the room, but a hand on his sleeve made him pause. 

“I’ll make sure Nezuko gets some sleep,” Kocho spoke lowly, avoiding the other pillars overhearing. “She will be in the same room as before.” 

At his nod, Kocho exited with the others and Amane, leaving Giyuu alone with Oyakata. Graciously, he waved to the floor in front of him, indicating for Giyuu to take a seat. 

“I received your letter about a sword for Nezuko,” Oyakata began, his usual soft smile adorning his cheeks. “You asked me directly as she cannot enter the Final Selection grounds to pass for herself, correct?”

“Yes. I have been training her personally,” he looked into Oyakata’s unseeing eyes, pleading for his acceptance. “She’s learning quickly, and was able to kill a demon with a borrowed sword herself earlier tonight.”

“She’s a brave child,” he smiled, tilting his head down. “I do fear that Kibutsuji’s movements are because of her and Tanjiro. I hope she is able to cope with her grief when she battles demons. Perhaps it is too much to wish that Kibutsuji leaves her be. You say she’s learning quickly?”

“Nezuko seemed to have learnt from Tanjiro in their travels,” Giyuu recalled Tanjiro’s journals, and the way Nezuko nodded in recognition at the written training plans. 

“I see. Well, provided that you will take responsibility over it, and over Nezuko’s use of it, you may put in a request to the swordsmiths. If you so choose you can request a uniform for her and take her on as your own tsuguko,” he smiled softly at Giyuu, who was in shock.

“Even though she hasn’t passed the Final Selection?” he whispered, more to himself than to Oyakata.

“I believe Nezuko has done more than enough to prove her worthy of a place in our ranks, Final Selection or no,” Oyakata smiled serenely at Giyuu, his words seemingly pointed. If Nezuko is allowed to join despite never passing the Selection, then… “Might I suggest you sent it specifically to Tanjiro’s old smith? His name is Haganezuka; once we are done here I will have Kiriya take you to the crows that know the way to their village,” he interrupted Giyuu’s thoughts quickly.

“Thank you, Oyakata,” he bowed his head, moving to stand. Oyakata gestured for him to stay seated. 

“Before you leave, Giyuu, I also wanted to suggest something to you. There is a demon named Tamayo; Tanjiro and Nezuko met with her once. She might be able to answer any other questions you have, as she is the one they’ve entrusted to work on Nezuko’s cure,” Giyuu frowned at his words. Oyakata was really telling him to visit a demon?

“They asked a demon to make it?” he asked, incredulous. He wouldn’t put it past what he remembered of Tanjiro to request the help of a demon.

“It seems that she is no ordinary demon. Tamayo is not under Kibutsuji’s curse. She works as a doctor for humans, offering her services to those attacked by demons or the terminally ill,” Oyakata smiled at him. “It is nice to know that other demons are on our side, is it not?” nodding, Giyuu thought about meeting with this demon doctor. Would she even want to see him, knowing that he’s a pillar?

“How would I speak with her?” rising to his feet, Oyakata gestured for Giyuu to stand as well.

“I’ve sent a crow to locate her; she’s with another demon who’s blood demon art makes it rather tricky to find them both. I apologise for being presumptuous, but I included a proposition for a meeting with you in that letter before speaking with you,” Amane returned to his side, taking hold of his left hand.

“It’s okay, thank you, Oyakata. I appreciate it,” bowing again, Giyuu left the room to see a black haired boy waiting outside.

“Giyuu, follow me,” Kiriya, Giyuu assumed, lead him through the mansion to where the crows were kept. “Any of these crows know the way to the swordsmith village, so feel free to use whichever that you would like.”

With a nod of thanks, Kiriya left him to it. Looking around the area, Giyuu saw there was a little table with writing utensils already laid out for him. Quickly, he crafted a short letter detailing what he wanted - putting emphasis on the handle and hilt being cute, lest Kocho find out and be mad at him - addressing it to the smith named Haganezuka. As an afterthought, Giyuu noted down this was Tanjiro’s younger sister before tying it to the crow and sending it on its way. 

***

Giyuu was beginning to feel like a resident at the Butterfly Estate. Entering through the gate once more, Kocho’s youngest servants all greeted him when he entered their eyelines. 

“Tomioka!” the one with pink butterflies called out to him, waving him over to where they were hanging wet clothes up to dry. With a wistful gaze in the direction of his old room, he humoured them. 

“Nezuko was trying to stay up to give you this, but she fell asleep before you got back,” the one with green pins tugged his sleeve, holding in her hand a red butterfly pin.

“She picked it out from Shinobu’s basket of spares for you,” the last one, a girl with blue pins said, holding her fisted hands together by her face.

“Basket of spares?” he asked, taking the red pin from the girl.

“Shinobu has many pins that aren’t being used, so should she ever take on another tsuguko or trainee they can have a pin of their own!” the blue-pin girl touched her own, smile wide on her face.

“We all got to choose what pin we wanted!” the green-pin girl tugged his sleeve again, smiling up at him. “Shinobu’s so nice!”

“She even keeps the pins of her tsuguko that died separate from the rest of these to honour them,” the pink-pin girl clapped her hands together. “That way, we all get unique pins to symbolise our place here at the Estate!”

“So why is she allowing you to give one to me?” Giyuu asked, bewildered. 

“You’re here enough now to be included, aren’t you?” Kocho’s voice called from the front door, arms crossed over her chest. “Are you denying the pin Nezuko chose for you?” immediately, he pulled the butterfly close to his own chest, frowning at her.

“No,” his eyes narrowed as she smirked over at him.

“Come on then, say goodnight to Nezuko,” she waved him over, ushering him through the halls. Pushing him through the darkened infirmary, he saw Zenitsu and Kanao hovering by the door - Inosuke was asleep on his bed - but they moved out of his way when they saw Kocho. Ignoring Zenitsu, who was now babbling pleasantries in an attempt to win him over, he shut the door to Nezuko’s room behind him. 

The room was softly illuminated by a lantern, casting shadows across the walls. Nezuko had chosen to curl up on the floor, half in her box. Frowning, Giyuu pulled back the covers on the bed in the corner. He bent to pick her up, but paused before he lifted her. Her hair was pulled to the back of her head, held in place by another butterfly pin, but this one was green and yellow. Heart clenching, Giyuu held the pin Shinobu’s girls had given him next to the one on Nezuko’s head. Looking down at his haori, he smiled softly. Nezuko had matched with him. 

Placing his pin down on top of her box, he lifted her into the bed, making sure she did not crush the pin in her hair. Covering her back over, he dimmed the lantern and took his pin back with him. 

“Oh my god, I’d forgotten you knew how to smile,” Kocho spluttered, hiding her laugh behind her hands. Even she couldn’t wipe it from his face.

“Did you like the surprise?” pink-pin girl peeked from behind Kocho, her friends following suit. At his nod, they squealed in joy. Even Kanao was smiling, even if only slightly.

“Ah… she was excited to give that to you,” Kanao whispered, not meeting his eyes. “You might… want to wear it.”

Giyuu hummed, staring down at the pin. Not wanting to break it, he used it to gesture toward Kocho. “Will you help me put it on?”

Cupping her face in her hands, she sighed. 

“Please, Shinobu!” the little girls all called in unison, surrounding her. “You always put the pins on for everyone for the first time!”

“Fine, fine! Tomioka, go wait outside. I’ll grab a brush for your mane,” shooing everyone out to the engawa, Kocho stalked off in the opposite direction. 

He sat on the engawa, Kocho’s girls surrounding him at his feet. Kanao was there, hanging awkwardly off to the side; Aoi had appeared at some point too, a basket of laundry on her hip. Zenitsu sat next to him - he had resumed his babbling, but Giyuu kept tuning him out.

“Ignore him,” Aoi pointed to Zenitsu, who made an indignant noise. “He’s just trying to get on your good side so you’ll let him marry Nezuko.” 

“Why would you tell him that!” he yelled, focusing on Aoi. “I had a grand plan-”

“He’s not stupid, don’t be disrespectful,” she snapped, shutting him down. Zenitsu pouted, but stayed silent. While they waited for Kocho, the youngest girls finally introduced themselves.

“Please don’t be offended if he can’t tell you apart,” Kocho finally returned, setting her hands on Giyuu’s shoulders. She passed him a hairbrush, getting to work removing the tie from his hair. “I’m surprised he managed to remember as many names as he did from the last visit.” Giyuu made an offended noise, scrunching his nose. He would remember them out of spite now.

“What? Pass the brush,” Kocho swapped him for the tie, running it through his hair. “Please don’t let Nezuko rub off on you, you already don’t use your words enough as is. It’s cute when we decipher her noises, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pick up that habit.”

“Fine,” he sulked, slipping the tie onto his wrist. Kocho was gentle with the brush, detangling his hair with strokes so soft he barely felt it. 

“Your hair isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be,” she commented, gesturing for the tie back. “Do you actually take care of it?”

“Of course I do,” he frowned at her, but passed it over. “Nezuko likes brushing it for me now.”

Zenitsu choked, steam seemingly rising from his angry red face. “She does what now?”

“Oh, I see!” she trilled, brushing his hair into his usual style, ignoring Zenitsu. “I can credit this to her then! Give me the pin,” making grabby hands over his shoulder, she reached for the pin. He passed it up, feeling her manoeuvre it around his ponytail, adjusting it a little before stepping back. “Okay, everyone, come look!”

All of the girls scrambled to get a look at his hair, squealing and clapping when they saw it. 

“It matches your haori perfectly!” the pink-pin girl - Kiyo, Giyuu hoped - held her fisted hands by her face. “Just like Nezuko wanted!”

“She’ll be so happy!” green-pin - Naho - hugged on to Kiyo, squealing all the while

“Don’t you think this is a bit of an overreaction?” Zenitsu grumbled, resting his chin on his hand that was covered by his sleeve.

“Let them have fun,” Aoi smacked him lightly on the head with her basket. “It’s time for your medicine, lets go.”

“SAVE ME, TOMIOKA!” Zenitsu hugged on to Giyuu’s back, hiding from Aoi. Kocho leant in close, whispering something in his ear that got him to peacefully follow Aoi back to the infirmary. 

“Well, you should get some rest, Tomioka,” Kocho pulled him up, pushing him through her estate again. “Everyone can chat again tonight.” 

She led him back to the room he had stayed in last time, where a futon was already waiting for him. With a quiet goodnight - despite it being early morning - she slid the door shut behind her, leaving him in darkness. Giyuu settled down, careful to tilt his head to protect his pin. When sleep crept up on him, he realised that the atmosphere at the Butterfly Estate was the closest to what he remembered Urokodaki’s to be, when Sabito was still alive. 

***

Excited humming woke him that night. Nezuko, when she saw his eyes were open, tugged him into a sitting position. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kept humming when he hugged her back. Soft tugs on his hair reminded him of the butterfly pin Kocho had put on for him that morning.

“Thank you for the pin, Nezuko,” Giyuu patted her back lightly, small smile returning to his face. Pulling back, her eyes widened in delight at the sight of his smile, so she patted him on the cheeks.

“Sorry, Tomioka,” Kanao whispered from the door, looking anywhere but at him. “We tried to keep her out so you could rest but…”

“It’s okay,” patting Nezuko on her head, Giyuu moved her off him so he could get up. “We should leave soon, anyway.” 

Nodding, Kanao gestured for them to follow her through the estate, back to the engawa. Inosuke and Zenitsu were waiting outside.

“So you’re leaving, Nezu?” Zenitsu was blubbering already, reaching out for her. She moved to Giyuu’s other side, grabbing on to his sleeve. “But you just got here!”

“We haven’t even fought yet!” Inosuke grabbed her wrist, tugging her away from Giyuu. “Tanjiro said he’d fight me, but he can’t now so you’ll have to do it for him!”

“Stop reminding her of Tanjiro, Inosuke!” Zenitsu seethed, ripping his hand from Nezuko’s. “Do you really think she wants to be reminded of his death like this?”

“If anyone’s doing the reminding, it’s you, Zenitsu,” Aoi stood in the doorway, holding Nezuko’s box in her arms. “Tomioka, I finished the modifications on her box. There’s now straps here,” she pointed at two adjustable straps on the side of the box, pulling them open in demonstration, “for you to carry her sword in during the day.”

“Thank you, Aoi,” he took the box and donned it, rolling his shoulders to make it more comfortable. “Where’s the sword-”

“If you think I’ll let Nezuko use your gross secondhand sword, then you can think again,” Kocho stood next to Aoi, holding a sheathed sword in her hands. “Here you go, Nezuko! It’s a Breath of Water sword, so that’s not an issue, but it’s brand new!” she held it out to her, smiling brightly when she took it.

“Why do you have a Breath of Water sword?” Giyuu frowned, seeing the bright blue blade reflect the moonlight when Nezuko took it out.

“I have one for most of the common breath styles; we don’t have a Breath of Flower bias here like you think,” absentmindedly, her fingers grazed the flower hilt to her own sword. Humming, he nodded, turning to help Nezuko strap the sword to her waist. When it was settled, she leaped at Kocho for a hug, catching her off guard. For a moment, she stood frozen, hands hovering in the air before she wrapped them around Nezuko, small smile on her face. Looking over at Giyuu, she laughed lightly.

“You might want to leave your butterfly pins here,” pointing to his hair, she giggled again. “If anyone sees you wearing that, you’ll never live to hear the end of it.”

Nezuko pouted, but allowed Kocho to take the pins from them, promising that she would “keep them separate for you, okay?” as she did so. Everyone waved them off, insisting that they came back soon; even Kocho wished them an easy patrol night.

Of course Giyuu wouldn’t be that lucky.

His patrol area took him through a forest; the entrance had a large clearing that stretched into empty shrubland. Instead of running straight through like he normally would, Giyuu froze. There was a demon presence here. But it was no ordinary demon.

The menacing aura spreading through the clearing was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Comparatively, any Lower Moon felt like a kitten rather than the monstrous vibe washing over him. Hairs standing on the back of his neck, he scanned the area only to come up short. Nezuko’s hand gripped tightly onto his own, low growls scratching past her throat.

“Yo, demon slayer,” alarmed, Giyuu’s head snapped up. The demon had come out of nowhere! Blue lines marked a bright pattern against white skin; a shock of pink hair sat atop his head. From this distance, Giyuu could barely make out the words written on his irises.

Upper Moon Three. 

Chapter Text

“You don’t look happy to see me,” sauntering over, he remained a respectable distance away. Not that Giyuu doubted he could close it before he could blink. Using the hand still in Nezuko’s, he pulled her slightly behind him, shielding her with his body. “What’s your name? I can’t just keep calling you slayer.”

Keeping a glare on the demon, Giyuu slowly rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. Seeing that he wasn’t going to speak, the demon stepped closer.

“If I tell you mine, will that help?” lazy smirk distorting the blue markings on his face, his smugness exuded from his body. “I’m Akaza. Nice to meet you, pillar.”

The tense silence dragged, threatening to rip open Giyuu’s mouth with it, if only to break the quiet. Sighing, Akaza gave up his battle of wills.

“Silent type, huh? So you hate talking? I love talking. I just hope you’re strong enough to back your silence up. But you know, you really never will be strong enough,” extending his hand toward Giyuu, Akaza laughed slowly. “Why don’t you become a demon? You’ll be able to see your pillar friend again! What was his name? Sanemi?”

At his words, Giyuu’s eyes blew wide, meeting Akaza’s lettered pupils. 

“He’s alive?” his voice was quiet, speaking more to himself than the demon across from him.

“So you’re not mute after all! He’s the best he’s ever been - Sanemi crossed from the weak, fleeting human state you are in to the supreme territory. He won’t grow old and die like you and the rest of the pillars will - if you reject my offer, anyway,” reaching his hand further out, Akaza tilted his head toward Giyuu. “How about it?”

“No,” he spat through a curled lip, sneering at the demon.

“You’re willing to forever stay in that state? You’ll die here tonight, leaving that little girl behind you alone for the rest of eternity. She will rue the day you chose to be weak and selfish, pillar,” Akaza’s smile still stretched his cheeks, but his eyes had frozen over. A barely-repressed shudder threatened to make its way down Giyuu’s spine at the sight. “There’s a lot of time left until sunrise. You must be curious as to why I’m here, so I’ll let you ask me anything you want, in exchange for your name.”

Eyes narrowing, Giyuu glared at him. Sneer marring his face, he contemplated his options. The demon didn’t deserve to know his name, but Oyakata needed as much information as he could gather.

“Fine,” he finally spat, maintaining his eye contact. “Why did you take Shinazugawa instead of Rengoku?”

Akaza laughed loudly, surprise blowing his eyes wide. “I did not expect that question from you! There wasn’t any particular pillar we aimed for; preferably a strong one, but any would do. I assume Rengoku was the one on the train? Enmu was supposed to capture him, but he got so giddy about trapping a pillar he couldn’t help himself and devoured him on the spot. He only got away with it because it meant there was one less pillar around for you slayers. But to be captured by a Lower Moon, that must mean he was a weakling,” Akaza’s own smile fell into a sneer. “I hate weaklings. He wasn’t worthy of becoming a demon.”

“Worthy?” Giyuu spat through his teeth, sucking air sharply past them. 

“But you might still be worthy, if you agree to become a demon right now. Our leader doesn’t care if you live or die,” this time, he extended both of his hands toward Giyuu. “I wonder who would need more blood to turn, you or Sanemi?”

Giyuu could feel his heart pounding; at Nezuko’s squeeze of his hand he took deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. He needed to be calm. 

This night wouldn’t end without a fight.

“You’re both breath users, so you’d need more blood than usual,” Akaza kept speaking, no longer bothered that Giyuu didn’t respond. “It took so much to turn Sanemi, it was unbelievable. All of the Upper Moons watched as he was turned. It was a shame to waste such good marechi, but it needed to be done,” he ran his hand through his hair, pacing a little before looking back over to Giyuu over his shoulder. “I’ve always wondered if marechi blood would make for stronger blood demon art, so I guess I will get to see soon enough. Sanemi will make for a strong demon regardless, considering the amount of blood it took to turn him. He resisted quite a lot, you see,” eyes meeting with Giyuu’s again, Akaza burst into laughter. “What a good expression you’re wearing right now!” 

Nezuko tugged harder on his hand, growling at Akaza’s mirth. Giyuu locked his arm, keeping her firmly behind him.

“It’s okay, Nezuko,” he spoke lowly, stopping himself from blinking for as long as possible. Akaza had tilted his head towards them both, snapping his fingers in recognition at her name.

“Nezuko, that’s who I’m here for,” taking another step closer, he leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of her. “Why are you hiding her from me? Do you intend to protect her? She’s a demon, you know. Unless she’s truly that weak, she should be protecting you.” 

Nezuko’s growls increased in volume; they were becoming so loud it sounded as though they were tearing her throat on the way past. He could feel every crack resound through his own vocal cords. Swallowing roughly, Giyuu wet his sympathetically-sore throat. He wouldn’t be able to convince Nezuko to hold off attacking for much longer. The tension was building; the demon was growing tired of his monologue, no matter how much he insisted he liked to talk. 

“It’d be much easier if you agreed to be a demon, pillar. That way, our leader could kill that girl you’re protecting, but you wouldn’t have to die,” Giyuu’s blood went cold. Kill Nezuko? Involuntarily, his hand clamped down on hers, knuckles growing white with his force. “Oh, your battle spirit increased! That’s amazing, you’re so close to the supreme territory! It’d be a shame to see you die here, to lose that strength to the weakness of your mindset. I’ll ask one more time. You don’t want to become a demon?” his hand extended once more, Akaza left the offer open. 

Giyuu didn’t consider it for a second. Become a demon, and leave Nezuko to die? How could he, he promised her he’d always be there for her! He owed it to Tanjiro to turn her back into a human, and if that meant fighting until the sun rose, then so be it. 

“I’ll take that as a no. By the way, slayer, you never told me your name,” smile dropping from his face, Akaza growled out his final words at Giyuu. Slipping the box off his shoulders, he widened his stance. 

Seeing Akaza shift his weight to his back leg, Giyuu whipped around. He shoved the box as hard as he could against Nezuko’s chest, sending her flying deep into the forest. The hairs on his neck stood up, goosebumps rippling down his skin.

“It’s not polite to break your word,” Akaza spoke directly in his ear. “I’ll ask again and again for your name until you cave.”

Giyuu could feel his hair moving from the closeness of the demon’s breathing. Jaw clenching, he threw his head down. Wind ruffled his haori from the force of Akaza’s swing. He had to get some distance between them now.

Leaping away, Giyuu placed himself between the demon and where he had thrown Nezuko. She was the priority right now. Willing himself to calm down, he took deep breaths as he drew his sword. With a tight grip, he held it in front of him, staring Akaza down where he stood.

“I would compliment you, but I don’t want to disrespect you by calling you out of your name any longer,” Akaza shifted once more, but this time into a martial arts pose. His right palm was flat, facing Giyuu, left hand held tight to his waist in a fist. On the ground below him was a snowflake shaped compass. His blood demon art…

Closing the distance, Akaza released his left fist from his waist. The force of his punch sent out a massive shockwave. Leaping to the side, Giyuu barely dodged it. Wind from the passing wave whipped his hair around his face. The tree that had been behind him creaked loudly, threatening to fall. More shockwaves flew towards him; the strength with which it had hit the tree wouldn’t be easily absorbed by Lull. Something else, just get past it! Breathing in deeply, he ran towards the waves. With his weight firm on his front foot, he leapt into Second Style, using the momentum from the shockwaves flowing through his blade to flip him over and behind Akaza. Feet barely touching the ground, he launched into Third Style, weaving his blade through Akaza’s limited over-shoulder sight before slicing it diagonally through his shoulder. The wound was deep, but he jumped away at the last second to protect his neck.

Giyuu’s heart pounded in his ears. Sweat beaded on his brow, threatening to drip into his eyes. His breaths were thankfully deep - he’d need them to stay that way if he were to kill this demon.

“So you’re the water pillar!” Akaza cackled, delight creasing his blue markings. The cut had almost closed already. “It’s been around fifty years since I’ve ran into someone good!” he leapt into the air, soaring over Giyuu. “None of your fellow pillars have ever accepted my offer. Why is that? Someone like you, with such highly trained talents, it’ll all be lost! It’s unbearable!” he covered his mouth with his hand, feigning sadness, but the mirth in his voice betrayed his emotions. “Just die already!”

Before he had even landed, Akaza punched the air furiously. His arms moved so fast Giyuu’s eyes could barely keep up. There’s no time-!  

Taking one deep breath, he willed his heart rate to drop. Stilling his movements, he watched the small shockwaves fly at him from above. He waited, calm. They reached him before he could blink. Only moving his right arm, he cut through the waves before they reached him. Head thrown back, he felt the skin on his forehead split. Blood dripped down his face, running rivulets past his eye. His vision was tinged red. Even though he was prepared, Lull still couldn’t absorb it all?

This is the strength of Upper Moon Three.

Twisting in midair, Akaza landed on his feet across from Giyuu. 

“I’ve never seen that move before,” grin wide, he stared Giyuu down, daring him to move first. “The last water pillar I killed never had that! You had almost no battle spirit-”

Giyuu rushed him, cutting him off by jumping high above the demon. In midair, he swung his blade down hard. Slashing vertically, his Eighth Style cut down toward Akaza’s head. If he could just angle his blade… then-!

Before he could cut his neck, Akaza bent backward and kicked up. Giyuu’s eyes could barely keep up; he cut through the force of the first few kicks but he couldn’t regrip his blade in time. Air was forced from his lungs. Stomach caving in, Giyuu’s eyes blew wide as he choked on blood. Gathering the blood in his mouth, he spat it out on the ground. Only a bitten cheek. Good. Flying through the air, he briefly caught sight of Nezuko - she’s already back? - as he twisted his upper and lower body in opposing directions to slow his momentum. Sixth Style barely making a difference, he still tore through the branches of the trees on the fringe of the forest. Ribs creaking in agony, they screamed from when he had violently twisted his lower body, but Giyuu paid them no mind. Branches scraped his exposed skin as he tumbled to a stop. With a clenched jaw, he surveyed his surroundings.  

This was going to be a long fight.

Rolling his neck, he assessed his injuries as he ran. Two broken ribs, cut forehead, scrapes. Nothing major. Breaching the forest line, he saw Nezuko holding her sword in front of her. Her stance was good, but even from that distance Giyuu could see her shake under the pressure of an Upper Moon. 

At least he thought that was it.

When he got beside her, Giyuu saw her eyes were trained on her own sword rather than the laughing Akaza. But she didn’t even seem to see her sword at all. Her eyes were unfocused, breath choppy and uneven. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but Nezuko wasn’t straining at the smell of his blood. 

Is she remembering Tanjiro’s last fight? There’s no time to comfort her!

Closing his eyes, Giyuu prayed. Please, if any of her family is watching, keep Nezuko safe.

“The demon slayers let a demon have a sword?” Akaza cackled, incredulous expression on his face. “You’re so desperate for competent members you had to turn to the kind you swear to destroy?”

“Nezuko’s nothing like you,” Giyuu spat, reading his sword before him again.

“Oh? I can’t pass up the opportunity to fight her then, can I?”

In a flash, Akaza was in front of him again, trying to weave behind him to get to Nezuko. This time, Giyuu was prepared. His arm was outstretched, reaching toward Nezuko’s sword. Before he could notice, Giyuu swung through First Style, slashing his blade horizontally to split Akaza’s arm in two. Blood spurted out from the wound, as his blade cut through bone. Angling his blade at the last second, Giyuu forced it down, cutting the lower half of his arm off. Hissing, Akaza brought his arm in to his chest, his own blood staining his white skin red. 

“That was a good move,” forcing it through gritted teeth, Akaza almost looked impressed. “You are strong, after all!”

With barely enough time to bring his blade back to himself, Giyuu readied himself again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nezuko had still not moved. Frowning, he focussed back on Akaza, more shockwaves being kicked towards him. Rather than cut them, Giyuu jumped as hard as he could to the side, grabbing Nezuko around the waist on his left side. Skidding across the grass, he whirled around, leaving her behind him. 

If nothing else, Giyuu had to keep himself between Akaza and Nezuko. If she truly was thinking about Tanjiro, he understood. It had taken him a long time to be able to fight naturally again after he had done nothing to save Sabito. She was barely trained in sword fighting anyway. It was insane to expect her to be able to fight against an Upper Moon only a few weeks in. 

As fast as he could, Giyuu leapt lightly, barely landing on one foot before launching to the next. He needed to get there before Akaza could react, but every time Giyuu sped up, so did the demon. Akaza seemed to have no upper limits. Giyuu was rapidly approaching his.

Either backup needed to come, or he had to end this now.

Running at him with Ninth Style, Giyuu sidestepped Akaza and spun behind him. With the force of his spin, he aimed his blade at the demon’s neck. With all the force he had, Giyuu dragged his blade through the flesh. Through narrowed eyes, he saw Akaza stumble, head woefully intact. A thud drew his attention downwards. There sat Akaza’s leg, crumbling slowly into the wind.

Blood spurted from Giyuu’s nose, catching him off guard. Free hand flying to touch it, he was met with stinging. A thin cut split the skin on his nose, spattering blood on the grass below him. Akaza must’ve gotten his leg up in a kick in the split second it took Giyuu’s blade to swing towards his neck.

Movement over Akaza’s shoulder took his attention away. Staring at Nezuko, she pleaded with him through watery eyes. 

“Don’t get distracted,” Akaza grinned, fist flying towards Giyuu’s stomach. Gasping, he tried to pull his sword through the arm before it could get to him, but there wasn’t enough time. “Goodbye, nameless pillar!” 

One last time, Giyuu searched for Nezuko. To say goodbye, to apologise for his own weakness, for failing her. He didn’t know. Giyuu didn’t want to leave her alone again. Not like this. 

But she was not there. 

Bracing himself, he still tried to get his blade there anyway. There has to be some hope! I can’t die yet, not here, not like this! Nezuko won’t be able to get away! Hopefully she’s ran away and left me behind… I still haven’t made it up to her yet, for letting her family die!

It still wasn’t enough.

His breath froze in his throat, muscles locking in his panic. Blade stilled in midair.

Too far away.

Akaza’s fist brushed his stomach before falling to the ground. In shock, Giyuu checked his own blade but it still hovered in midair, still sitting just too far away. 

Nezuko slid across the grass, landing her Second Style flip before whirling around. Her shoulders heaved with the force of her breaths, Giyuu’s own forcing its way out of his lungs in time with hers. Blade steadily grasped in her hands, she turned it on Akaza.

“Thank you, Nezuko,” Giyuu finally whispered. Nezuko had saved him. Looking at her, he saw her calming her breaths. A fire burned in her eyes, the previous hesitance and fear melted away. 

Thank you, Tanjiro.

Steeling himself, he leapt back from Akaza’s reach beside her. She scanned him up and down, growling at the blood that coated his face. Keeping his eyes trained on Akaza, who was dumbfounded, staring at his severed arm, he turned to her.

“I’m fine,” he whispered to the sound of her disapproving huff. “Neither of us are dying here, Nezuko. I promise you that.”

“So you’re strong, too,” Akaza finally broke his trance, addressing Nezuko. “This is an unfair fight, isn’t it? You’re a demon too, so I can’t kill you, but you can kill me,” gesturing to the sword in her grip, a low growl rumbled at the base of her throat. “This sounds like it’ll be fun!”

He launched at Nezuko, punching down to the ground beneath her before Giyuu could move her away. An enormous dust cloud billowed up from the displaced dirt, muddying the clearing. Relying on his ears as best he could, Giyuu blindly fought through the dust. Coughing heavily, he spat dirt out of his mouth. He tried to hold his breath, only breathing deeply when the air finally cleared. 

Wait, Nezuko!

Frantic, he whipped his head back and forth trying to find her. In the middle of the crater he saw Akaza, alone. He froze, staring at Akaza’s back. Rationally, he knew she wasn’t dead. Demons couldn’t kill other demons. But that knowledge did nothing to calm his pounding heart. 

His mind blanked, fury forcing his legs to run. He didn’t have a plan. No sword style was prepared, his palms were slick with his fear. The handle of his sword was getting hard to grasp. If she was gone, it would be his fault. 

Movement above him slowed his steps. In midair he saw a flash of pink; metallic blue glinting in the moonlight. Nezuko slashes her blade from where she fell, the force of her swing rivalling the shockwaves Akaza himself sent. A crack split the ground deeper in the crater where Akaza had once stood. With a shake of his head, he wiped the dumbfounded look off his face and leant back. Kicking the air, he sent shockwaves up to Nezuko like he had to Giyuu earlier, but her lack of experience hurt her. Unable to bring her sword back in time, Nezuko took the brunt of Akaza’s attack. Flying through the air, Giyuu caught sight of her broken muzzle falling to the ground. Pain probably forced her to bite through it, clenching her jaw to muffle a scream.

As the muzzle hit the ground, Giyuu saw red. Wiping his hands off, he reset his grip on the sword. 

Hurting Nezuko wasn’t allowed. 

Giyuu willed his breaths to slow, forcing his panting to become deep drags of air. His heart was pounding so hard he could see his chest moving, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was protecting Nezuko, repercussions be damned.

Every step that he took felt slow. Trees passed him by in a blur, but forcing his legs forward felt like dragging them through dense snow. If he tried to increase his pace, his toes dragged on the ground, slowing him down. He knew it was because he was running faster than his body’s limits. But it didn’t matter. 

As long as he got Akaza.

Raising his blade, he leapt the rest of the distance to Akaza. As he was landing, Giyuu slashed as many times as he could. Fourth Style allowed him to be vicious with his sword, tearing flesh with the intent to hurt. He could feel Akaza’s skin rip apart through the hilt, but it wasn’t enough.

Without even turning around, he knew he hadn’t cut his neck. Giyuu had only felt skin and muscle, no bone. Akaza must’ve moved at the last second.

Snarling, Giyuu turned to face him. Akaza’s eyes were wide, but gleefully so.

“I didn’t think you could make faces like that,” Akaza laughed, stepping closer to Giyuu. “Your swordsmanship is excellent! Tell me your name, pillar, I want to remember you!” 

Glaring, Giyuu stayed silent, forcing his heart to calm down. Sunrise was still a bit away, he had to make it till then. But fighting an opponent like Akaza made him want to give up.

“Tell it to me,” placing his hand over his heart in mocking pity, Akaza looked saddened. “Your wonderful slashes you attacked me with have already healed, but you are beginning to tire. Your ribs are broken - if you aren’t careful you’ll damage your organs. If you were a demon, those injuries would be long gone. No matter how you put it, humans can’t beat demons.”

I hate joining fights where my opponent just swings for the hell of it. 

If Giyuu had been alone, he would’ve given up. He had never felt he deserved to be the water pillar, but here he was, facing an Upper Moon and surviving anyway. Almost all of his sword styles were exhausted, yet Akaza didn’t seem to be slowing in the slightest. He had just told him he wasn’t slowing down. Swallowing a sigh, Giyuu steeled himself. He couldn’t give in to self pity. Not here. 

Nezuko’s broken muzzle caught his eye once more, sitting broken and abandoned on the grass. He remembered that snowy day of years past where she had charged against him, starving, to protect her brother. He remembered that bloody clearing, her screams drowning out the silence Tanjiro left behind. 

Gathering his determination, Giyuu adjusted his grip on his sword. He wasn’t giving up yet.

Even if I don’t deserve to be a pillar, or even be alive, she does. I’m the one who gave her a second chance at life. I’m the one who took on her search for a cure. I can’t give up now.

I’m the one who accepted the role of pillar, so I had better act like it.

Growling broke him free of his thoughts.

Nezuko charged Akaza, sword thankfully still in hand. Preparing Third Style, her blade was already wobbling like a current racing through a river. Giyuu took off right behind her, determined not to let her get blasted away again. Just as she got before Akaza, he laughed. 

Seeing the grin on his face, Giyuu willed his legs to move faster. He was beginning to tire, his muscles burning with fatigue, ribs sending hot shards of agony through him, but he pushed it all aside. Collapsing could wait. 

Nezuko reached Akaza first, swinging her blade with inhuman strength. Just as her blade reached his neck, Akaza hit the side of her blade, snapping it in two. Surprise painted across her face, Nezuko froze, staring at the snapped blade. Akaza reached out for her - to take her to Kibutsuji, to hurt her, Giyuu didn’t know, but he didn’t care - so he ran even faster. 

Peeking over his shoulder, Akaza quirked a brow at his approaching opponent. Meeting Giyuu halfway, he leapt forward violently. Gasping, Giyuu stopped running as fast as he could, skidding across the grass. 

I need to stop moving, I have to use Lull-

He was still countering his own momentum when he saw Akaza land, thrusting his fist out in a punch. As best as he could with an incomplete Lull, Giyuu absorbed the attack. He tensed his core to try and brace himself. Ribs creaked, threatening to snap in two. Gritting his teeth, he unconsciously ducked his head under the pressure. The shockwaves were brutal, slamming into his unprepared body. His joints creaked, threatening to pop. Holding on for as long as he could, Giyuu cut through the force of it all, but his legs eventually gave out. Losing his footing on the grass, the pressure of Akaza’s relentless attacks sent him flying through the air. He was shoved against a tree, neck snapping his head back onto the trunk hard. Sliding down the front of it, he caught sight of Nezuko’s traumatised expression before his vision went black.

Everything was calm.

He couldn’t hear Akaza laughing anymore, nor Nezuko’s frustrated growling. No slashes of claws or swords, breathing styles, shockwaves. 

Nothing. 

Giyuu’s eyelids were heavy, lulling him into slumber, but it felt wrong. Off. He just couldn’t relax, even though he was so comfortable… he couldn’t figure out why it didn’t feel right.

His ribs didn’t ache, there was no longer any blood sticking his hair to his forehead. No dirt clogging his lungs, or metallic taste coating his tongue. The memory of his injuries faded away, only leaving whispers of what they were behind, until those faded too. Sword hilt no longer in hand, Giyuu felt like he should’ve been panicked but he couldn’t bring himself to be. He didn’t remember why he needed to be panicked, either. This was comfortable; it was pleasant. The most relaxed and at peace he had felt since his sister was still around, all those years ago. Before he had ever learnt what a demon was. Before his innocence was torn away with his sister’s throat. 

Cracking his eyes open, all he saw was a bright white that slammed them shut once more. But that was okay. His lids blocked out the intrusive light better than they usually did, so it didn’t matter. 

Everything was so warm. He felt like he had fallen asleep in front of the fire Tsutako’s fiance used to build for them, wrapped in the blanket she would cover him with. “But it’s so cozy,” he used to whine when she’d shake him awake. Laughing, Tsutako would apologise and slide a pillow under his head, letting him get comfortable again. She used to stroke his hair to help him fall asleep in the winter like that, cooing over him when she thought he couldn’t hear. 

“I love you, ‘Yuu. You’re the best little brother I could’ve ever hoped for.”  

She’d always brush his hair from his forehead then plant a kiss on it, setting up a futon of her own next to him by the fire. They’d wake up to the sun in the morning, propping up their blankets on whatever furniture they could to block it out for a little longer, giggling all the while.

He missed that.

Maybe if he stayed here, he’d get to have it again.

“Giyuu, you have to wake up,” a soft voice whispered above him, concerned lilt to her tone. He frowned, but the white lights were too bright to check who it was. She sighed, brushing the hair from his forehead, kissing it softly. 

“If you don’t wake up, Nezuko will die,” she spoke louder this time, trying to break through to him. “You have to save her.”

The voice was familiar. Her sad tone upset Giyuu, but he still couldn’t place her. Nezuko, however, was a name he recognised. A promise stuck out in his mind. ‘No matter what, you will always have me.’  

Had he meant that?

“You’re all she has, you have to wake up!” the voice was more desperate now, clutching the sides of his face from above. Giyuu wanted to reach up, to comfort her, but he couldn’t will his arms to move. 

“Please ‘Yuu, wake up!”

Giyuu’s eyes flew open.

He was slumped against the tree still, burning pain in his back forcing him awake. Breathing hurt; the dust in his lungs drying them out with every inhale. The cut on his forehead matted his hair down, threatening to glue his eye shut. But all he could think about was what he just saw.

The voice he had heard called him ‘Yuu, but the only person who had ever called him that…

Was that Tsutako?

Looking up, he saw Nezuko still fighting Akaza. She was desperate, sweat dripping off her forehead. Fangs bared at Akaza, her veins strained in her skin as she tried desperately to cut him with her broken sword. She was setting up for another attack as he collected himself, still unnoticed by both demons. But this attack was different. It looked nothing like any of the Water Breathing techniques they both used.

Every step she took was planted heavier in the grass, leaving deeper footprints than Water Breathing ever could. The movement was familiar in its unfamiliarity, but he couldn’t place where he knew it from. She was moving so much faster than before, Giyuu’s eyes could barely keep up. Akaza’s couldn’t either, as he didn’t have time to get out of the way. Raising her sword above her right shoulder, Nezuko slashed, hard.

Giyuu could’ve sworn he saw fire trailing after her swing. 

She’s using Dance of the Fire God!

Stumbling forward, Nezuko ducked under a swing from Akaza, leaping back when he pulled his fist in. She’d misjudged her swing thanks to her shorter, now-broken sword, but the cut she’d torn through Akaza’s chest still hadn’t healed.

He’d been able to regenerate full limbs in less time. 

Giyuu could see Nezuko’s breathing stabilise as she watched Akaza, calm. From this distance, he could see a weird birthmark on her forehead - that definitely hadn’t been there when he’d passed out - but it didn’t look like blood, so he wasn’t fully concerned. It almost looked like flames, curling above her eyebrow.

“How did you do that with your sword? It burns, it’s not healing properly. How’d you get so much faster?” if he wasn’t hearing wrong, Akaza’s voice sounded almost afraid for a second, before flipping into excitement. “Your battle spirit has grown too, Nezuko! It’s tragic your skills will be lost, but that’s what He wants. Please, die quickly! I’ll remember you forever!” Akaza launched at her, hand outstretched.

While he was still unnoticed, Giyuu sprinted towards them, injuries ignored. He pushed himself faster, faster, faster . Akaza’s focus locked on Nezuko, Giyuu flipped, slicing vertically through his arms with Second Style. Landing just beyond them both, he turned to face Akaza, face blank.

“I am angry now,” he aimed his sword up, pointing it at Akaza. “There’s a searing pain in my back. Great job blasting me all the way back there, Upper Moon Three.”

“You’re alive!” morbid delight twisting his features, Akaza grinned widely. “I didn’t think you’d make it through that blast!”

Ignoring him, Giyuu checked on Nezuko. The mark on her forehead was huge; it curled over her right eyebrow, edges flicking out like flames. She was holding herself differently. Sword more comfortably held in her grasp, she looked every part a demon slayer, especially without her muzzle. 

“I must know your name,” Akaza drew his attention back once more, smile skewing blue lines. “I’ve never seen a demon slayer and a demon fight together like this, especially not when both have swords! I need to remember you!”

Nezuko, when she was out of his eyeline, launched at Akaza. Blade raised above her head, she swung it down vertically in Eighth Style, but he noticed her at the last second. 

There’s no way he should’ve been able to see that!

Beneath her blade, Akaza kicked up behind him. Nezuko’s head snapped back, blood spurting from her face. 

She hasn’t had enough training, she doesn’t have the instinct to prepare for moves like that yet!

Stumbling away, she lowered her blade to try and control her bleeding. Giyuu froze, seeing her blood spatter all over Akaza’s white pants. The hand that cupped her nose had fat beads of blood dripping between her fingers, staining the sleeve of her kimono. Red seeping through the pink fabric was a familiar sight, but it made Giyuu’s stomach turn. The volume of blood that came from her would have been concerning, should have been concerning, but only if she were human.

Giyuu hated feeling like this more than anything, but he was glad Nezuko was a demon sometimes.

Akaza turned back to Giyuu, punching into the air at a furious pace before he could move. Familiar shockwaves flew at him, but this time thankfully he was already still. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his body, only using his sword arm to slice through the waves. 

He had redeemed himself since the last time he used Lull. 

Nezuko whimpered next to him, blood spurting out from cuts that littered her body. They dripped blood at a worrying rate, but she - aside from the way her teeth were gritted into a snarl - seemed unphased. She moved toward him, tripping over her own feet a little in the grass. Raising the hand closest to his blade, she let her blood coat its surface until she was satisfied, jumping back. 

“Nezuko?” he questioned, keeping an eye on Akaza. She shook her head, directing his attention away from her. 

“Focus on me, pillar!” Akaza punched the air before him, harder, but slower than before. Massive shockwaves cut the grass as they flew towards Giyuu, who prepared to use Lull once more.

I can’t win just by using Lull! I have to get close!

Abandoning Lull, he went to jump forward, to use the footwork of Ninth Style, anything to get closer. Akaza matched him, kicking off with his back foot in the bloodied grass. Fists and sword raised, they charged at each other, but were stopped in their tracks. 

The clearing was alight. 

A thick wave of fire washed over them both. The grass beneath Giyuu’s feet glowed, before that set on fire, too. But it didn’t hurt. He could feel it on his skin, but it wasn’t hot. It should’ve been, it’s fire, but all it was was warm. 

It felt like home. 

The way each puff of flame cracked around him as it moved reminded him of falling asleep with Tsutako by the fire in winter. Firewood flaked into ash, being consumed by the popping flames burning beneath it. They’d sleep the day away, letting the cozy flames lull them into slumber.

It warmed his skin like training with Urokodaki and Sabito did, at the base of Mount Sagiri. They’d spar, he and Sabito, sweat pouring from their faces until they collapsed next to each other in the dirt, laughing all the while. Grins stretching flushed cheeks, they’d pant until they caught their breath, fighting until the sun set.

Comfort filled his heart when he saw Nezuko standing beyond the flame, hand glowing like her blood had been. Her blood demon art? He felt like he was back at the engawa at the Butterfly Estate, all of Kocho’s girls giggling up at him as Kocho tugged a brush through his hair, complaining that she, of course, had to be the one to do it for him. Her grumbles went ignored, for she didn’t mind the task anyway, securing the pin to his hair with gentle ease.

He didn’t want his and Nezuko’s pins to join Kocho’s memorial collection.

Akaza was screaming, his flesh curling up under the heat of Nezuko’s fire. The smell was rancid, permeating through the clearing. Giyuu could see his meat cooking on his bones, but Akaza wouldn’t fall down.

So her blood demon art only has an effect on demons?

A rabid growl tore through Akaza’s exposed throat. He turned his head toward Nezuko, not before Giyuu caught sight of his eyeballs sitting in their sockets. With whatever strength he had, Akaza charged her as fast as he could, but in this state he wasn’t fast enough. 

Giyuu could beat him there.

He would beat him there.

Sprinting with everything in him, he tore through the flames, trying to breathe as deeply as he could. Akaza’s skin fought to heal through the blaze, but every attempt went up in flames. Nonetheless, he stumbled toward Nezuko, fighting his way to the fresh air that surrounded her. The flames began to die down as the rest of her blood burned away, all except what was smeared across Giyuu’s blade. As soon as he was exposed to fresh air, Akaza’s wounds stitched themselves together at an alarming rate. 

Pushing himself harder, Giyuu felt his muscles screaming through each movement, but he widened his stride as far as he could. Each step he put all of his force into, making them almost jumps every time. Growling, he prepared his blade, crossing the clearing faster than what should’ve been possible. 

It was like his sister’s hand was on his back, giving him one final push, whispering “you can do it!” into the wind he left behind.

Despite being a pillar, Giyuu had never fought this desperately to protect someone before. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t protected people ever, of course he had. But this was different. 

Nezuko was different.

This time, Giyuu wanted to protect her and live.

Akaza raised his hand, jumping forward in an instant, clearing the distance between he and Nezuko faster than Giyuu could dream of moving. Gritting his teeth, Giyuu ran even faster, switching into the footwork of Seventh Style, if he could stab his blade into Akaza anywhere, that’d be enough. 

When his eyes could finally keep up, Giyuu saw Nezuko’s leg perforated by Akaza’s fist. Her face was contorted in pain, but she raised her blade, trying to cut his arm off. He laughed, raising his other fist to try and punch her again. Feeling his heart rate pick up, Giyuu forced his breaths to stay calm. Sweat poured off his brow at his exertion.

Blade extended before him, he stabbed through Akaza’s left arm with Seventh Style, switching at the last second to Second. Flipping vertically, he tore his blade down through Akaza’s left arm, cutting the top and his right arm off with the rest of his flip. Catching Nezuko as she fell, Giyuu dragged her away, pushing Akaza’s severed fist out of her wound. Akaza cackled, bringing his healing arms to his chest.

“What wonderful battle spirit, pillar! Let’s continue fighting forever!” smirking at the pair, Akaza opened his newly healed arms to them. “You’ve exhausted all of your moves, but you just combined two! That’s amazing! But it’ll be lost if you don’t become a demon, pillar! You have to agree!”

“I’ll never become a demon,” he finally spat, moving to shield Nezuko from his sight as she healed. 

“Are you sure? Do you really want your talents to be wasted? Who will protect Nezuko if you let yourself die right now?”

Giyuu knew he was almost out of Water Breathing forms. He knew. But that didn’t mean he was out of options. Nezuko’s blood was still smeared across his blade, tingeing the blue purple. Giyuu didn’t know if she had meant to set it on fire back then, or if she was waiting for something, but he was glad Akaza hadn’t noticed it yet. 

Right now, standing before me is someone so strong he’s overwhelmed me for the first time in a long time. I understand that his senses are something that were finely polished and trained. My own senses were slapped open and dragged out to a place where the strong face off. The moment we call an extreme life-or-death struggle is a matter of how much one can stretch their true ability. 

I understand that.

Giyuu’s left cheek burned.

“Stay here, Nezuko.”

With that, he ran.

Moving beyond his limits, Giyuu was at Akaza’s neck in a blink of an eye. Faster than he thought possible, he slashed his blade through Fourth Style. Akaza’s chest ripped open, followed by his legs. He’d thrown his head back just in time. Not deep enough. 

Ducking down himself, he dodged a punch thrown at him. Using his own momentum, Giyuu threw himself to the side, slashing a simple First Style at Akaza’s neck. He could see blood beading through a shallow cut. Not fast enough . 

Without thinking, he kept slashing, but Akaza quickly matched his pace. Gritting his teeth, Giyuu dodged a kick from below, twisting his lower body in the opposite direction to his upper. Akaza grunted, cuts opening across his body, but they closed as soon as they opened. 

“Looks like I’ve matched your speed increase already,” he sneered, leaning toward Giyuu. “Even though you manifested your mark, your stamina has to be running out, right? Can you hold on until the sun rises?”

Leaning back, Giyuu removed any expression from his face.

“I will if I have to.”

Nezuko yelled, tackling Giyuu out of the way. Shockwaves tore up the grass where he had been seconds prior. On his feet immediately, Giyuu pulled her up with him. A quick scan showed him she had already healed, but she was beginning to tire. Her veins strained in her forehead, slit pupils surrounded by prominent blood vessels. She panted, sweat dripping off her face, but she smiled at him. Tightening her grip on her blade, Nezuko ran at Akaza, Giyuu hot on her tail. 

She got there first, slashing her blade through Fourth Style. Serving as a distraction, she carved Akaza up until Giyuu came up behind her, where she jumped out of the way. There, he slashed at Akaza by spinning. Every spin added to his momentum, pushing Akaza away from Nezuko through the clearing. He cut through shockwave after shockwave, but kept building up Tenth Style - his final unused form - for as long as he could, before slashing Akaza through the chest. Giyuu would’ve aimed for the neck, but the slight twitch of his muscles showed that he was prepared to duck.

Through the wound Giyuu could see Akaza’s heart pumping in his ribcage. It was odd, seeing genuine proof that the demon was alive. It felt like something that should’ve belonged to a human, but nothing about him was human anymore. 

Using the Second Style flip, Giyuu jumped behind him, allowing Nezuko to bounce between the weak shockwaves Akaza sent toward her, barely touching the ground between steps. She had to get so much closer than he did, with her broken sword. Giyuu - in an attempt to help her out - cut off one of Akaza’s legs, but it wasn’t enough. Blade part-way through his neck, her movements stilled. 

Akaza’s claws were raised, having raked her across her face. Blood splashed over them both, mixing in with what was already on Giyuu’s sword. 

Giyuu was thanking every god there was she was a demon at this point. Nezuko was so new to sword fighting it was unreal she was holding her own against an Upper Moon already. It had to be due to her demonic strength and healing, but he was grateful nonetheless. She could hold her own.

Nezuko dragged Akaza with her, further away. She slashed him again with Third Style, taking off a few of his fingers, but they were swiftly replaced. Streaks of pink began to cross the sky, the dark blue hues of night slowly fading away. There wasn’t much longer left, they could last until morning light. 

We can do this.

Akaza punched towards her again, sending shockwaves that passed her to Giyuu. Jumping into the footwork of Ninth Style, he met eyes with Nezuko. She nodded to his blade, smearing some of her blood across her own. Dodging all of the shockwaves, Giyuu sped up, pushing beyond even his mark’s limits. 

He knew his muscles would make him pay for this afterwards, but that didn’t matter now. 

Rotating past more of Akaza’s attacks, Giyuu kept his quick Ninth Style pace, but added the building momentum of Tenth. He needed to put everything into this. Switching from Water Breathing to Dance of the Fire God breathing would take him out, so this one move had to count. 

Nezuko joined him, one step ahead. They approached Akaza, knowing what the other was planning to do without even a glance.

A few steps before they reached him, Nezuko’s palms glowed. 

Giyuu’s blade burst into flames.

Nezuko slashed first. Her blade burned red, slicing through Akaza’s extended arm with ease. She ducked out of the way as quickly as she arrived, heating Giyuu’s blade even more as she did. Giyuu was glad she’d used that move again. He’d had a different one in mind. Breathing deeply, he felt his lungs burn along with his blade. Paying it no attention, he kept going.

Giyuu slashed his blazing red blade vertically through Akaza’s remaining arm. It fell to the ground in flames, crumbling into ash in the early morning light. Angling his blade horizontally, he brought it back, tearing through Akaza’s neck. 

The demon scrambled back, protecting his cut neck with his stumps.

It didn’t go through.

Giyuu lurched on his feet, swaying back and forth. Face-first he fell into the grass, sword extinguishing on the way down. Nezuko yelled, reaching out for him, but he could barely focus.

Black spots crept over his eyes, tunnelling from the outside in. His breathing was choppy, none of the breaths he took were able to fill his lungs. Greedily, Giyuu panted, but every time he tried to breathe in it felt like his lungs constricted, closing themselves off at their entry. If he forced it, they burned. The pain was worse than anything he’d felt before now. Agony attached itself to the air he breathed in, pumping a searing trail through his veins with every quickened beat of his heart. Trees in the forest fringe spun, making him even more lightheaded. 

Maybe it was the oxygen deprivation?

Giyuu couldn’t think straight. His hand shook on his sword hilt, all grip strength drained from his fingers. He could feel his heart throbbing in his cheeks, chest digging into the grass with the force of its beating. Stomach churning unpleasantly, he felt his mouth water, drool slipping out from the corner of his lips. Hot bile burnt his throat on the way up, but he willed it back down. Forcing his breathing to slow, the black spots in his vision got more violent, but his heart began to slow down. 

He knew using Dance of the Fire God Breathing would be hard for him, but he hadn’t expected it to be this hard on his body. It felt like it was burning him alive, his muscles shook with every movement from overexertion. 

Faintly, he felt Nezuko crouch in front of him, hand delicately hovering over his head. It was comforting, but it felt wrong. She shouldn’t have to protect him this close to dawn. 

Wait. 

Dawn!  

Forcing himself onto his elbows, he looked through bleary eyes to see Akaza standing across from Nezuko, desperately trying to heal his wounds. 

He still hasn’t healed?

They stayed there, watching as he healed. Nezuko was twitchy next to him, but whether it was because Akaza was still alive or the sun was threatening to break into the sky, he couldn’t tell. Giyuu just had to hope that it would take long enough to save them.

A flash of movement burst before them, straight toward Akaza. All Giyuu could see was a hint of green before Nezuko leaned over him, concerned hands trailing over his pained face. 

Coughing violently, his lungs made cracking sounds. Between all the dust and god knows what else he’d inhaled, Giyuu knew Kocho would kick his ass for the state he was in. Nezuko whined above him, patting his back to help him breathe. 

“I’m okay, Nezuko,” he croaked out, mouth unpleasantly dry now that his head stopped spinning. Brows pulled together, she shook her head, but was nervously looking between him and the sky. The sun was truly threatening to break the skyline now, the first rays of morning light spanning the sky. As gently as she could, Nezuko rolled him onto his back. Confused, Giyuu stared up at her, brows furrowed. 

Morning dew on the grass wet his haori pleasantly, cooling his feverish skin. Faintly, he could see someone - is that Tokito? - slashing Akaza, cutting his leg off. Akaza saw him on the grass with Nezuko, waving over to them before he ran.

“I’ll see you again, nameless pillar!”

Nezuko paid Akaza no mind, picking Giyuu up like a husband lifts his wife. Cheeks burning, Giyuu froze. He stayed still, letting Nezuko carry him into the safety of the forest, gently laying him on the ground in the shade. The box sat - thankfully intact from his throw earlier - nearby in the grass. Nezuko fussed, sitting on her shins next to his head. She tried to pull the hair out of the cut on his forehead, but it had scabbed over. When he hissed at her efforts, Nezuko whimpered, letting it go in favour of cradling his head on her lap. She clearly didn’t know what to do now the sun was up.

His breathing had thankfully gotten a little easier, but it still hurt as bad as before. Combining Water Breathing and Dance of the Fire God was unreasonably powerful, especially with Nezuko’s fire covering his blade. But his body just wasn’t made for it. Every muscle ached down to the bone. His strength was sapped, stamina gone. It had taken everything out of him just to use one move, when he had been using Water Breathing all night.

Perhaps it’s time to train with Nezuko, for real this time.

“Tomioka, are you aware you’re lying on a demon?” Tokito stood above them, blade in hand but hanging by his side. Nezuko growled, holding her broken sword out at him, shielding Giyuu’s head with her spare arm. His heart melted at her protecting him in this way, even if it was embarrassing for a pillar to see it. “Why does she have a sword?”

“Oyakata allowed it,” he forced out, voice scratchy against his dry throat. “She’s the one we had the trial for at the pillar meeting.”

“Oh. Did we?” a faraway look crossed Tokito’s face as he tried to remember. “I don’t remember. But I believe you. I’ll be taking my leave, then.”

Nezuko whined, hand shooting out to grab his sleeve. Her grip was weak - Giyuu could see she was fighting back sleep, just barely - but still firm. She huffed, pointing down at Giyuu with a frown on her face.

“So you’re injured?” Tokito tilted his head, seeing the dried blood staining Giyuu’s face. “Do you want me to call the kakushi or something? She can’t carry you, right? Like she was before,” Giyuu froze, eyes wide. He had hoped Tokito hadn’t seen her carrying him.

“Please don’t tell Kocho about that,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

“I’ll forget it soon enough anyway,” Tokito called down his crow, whispering commands to it quickly before it set off. Giyuu frowned, jealous his crow was so easy to communicate with. “I guess I’ll stay until they get here.”

Nezuko hummed, head nodding off where she sat, but she slapped her cheeks to keep herself awake. In an attempt to busy herself, she started fussing with Giyuu’s hair, picking out the little branches and sticks that had gotten caught in it when Akaza kicked him through the trees.

“Were you fighting him all night?” Tokito sat against a tree opposite them, watching Nezuko’s ministrations. 

“Yes,” Giyuu hissed when she tugged a particularly tangled twig. Whimpering in apology, Nezuko smoothed her hands over the spot to ease the sting. “Muzan wants Nezuko dead.”

“Oh?” Tokito tilted his head, but his expression did not change. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” Giyuu mumbled, struggling to stay awake. “Maybe because she’s not under his curse anymore.”

Humming, Tokito let them fall into silence. It was even harder for both Giyuu and Nezuko to stay awake now; she’d removed all of the debris from his hair, but in doing so she was lulling him to sleep. Thankfully, the kakushi were fast in their arrival.

In his semi-conscious state, Giyuu could hear Tokito explaining to them what happened. He was lifted off of Nezuko, who whined as he was taken away. 

“You have to bring the demon too,” Tokito droned, boredom thick in his voice. “She’s in Tomioka’s care.”

“But how?” one of the kakushi asked, incredulous. “The sun’s up.” 

Quiet shuffling was all the noise he heard, followed by a soft thump on the grass.

“This box? You want me to carry a demon to the Butterfly Estate in a wooden box?” fear now laced her voice, confronted by the prospect. Nezuko hummed a yes, unlatching the straps on the side of her box to put her sword away. Clicks indicated she’d climbed inside for a well-deserved sleep.

“We have to go, just put on the damn box! She won’t do anything while the sun is still up, Kocho can decide what to do with her when we get to the Estate!” one of the kakushi - a male this time - huffed by Giyuu’s head. At a count, he felt himself being lifted on a stretcher. Only once he heard the aggrieved sigh of the female kakushi, and the sound of the box being shouldered did he let himself pass out.

Chapter Text

Groaning, Giyuu felt himself wake up slowly. His body was stiff - he had probably been lying down for at least a few days - and everything ached. All his muscles were tight, he discovered after experimentally stretching his legs. It made sense, after the level of exertion he had undergone however many days ago. And yet, he still was unable to defeat Akaza. After all Nezuko did, her blood demon art, Dance of the Fire God, everything. He wasn’t able to finish the job for her, or for Shinazugawa. 

Wait. Where is Nezuko?

Eyes finally snapping open, Giyuu scrunched them closed almost immediately. It was night, as far as he could tell, but even the moonlight was too bright right now. Opening them far slower this time, he adjusted to being conscious. As he looked around he saw he was in one of Kocho’s nicest infirmary rooms, perhaps one she reserved for pillars? Nezuko’s box was sitting on the floor to his left, but she was nowhere in sight. He knew Kocho would look out for Nezuko for him, but that did nothing to ease his mind.

Gingerly, Giyuu swung his legs off the bed, wincing when his feet hit the floor. A deep ache throbbed through his chest, reminding him of the broken ribs he had cracked in the fight. It clearly hadn’t been that long that he was unconscious; if they still hurt that badly then they were still broken. Taking as deep a breath as he could through the pain, Giyuu assessed his other injuries. There was a bandage wrapped around his forehead, and many more around his torso, but that was about all. He had gotten off lucky. 

When he finally stood, Giyuu noted that his lungs didn’t hurt like they had before. Coughing once as a test, he could feel the dust that had clogged them was cleared, and the agony they’d given him when he swapped breathing styles was long gone. 

Good. That means it’s trainable. 

Limping to the door, he did his best to not aggravate his ribs further. Using Dance of the Fire God had given him more grief than Water Breathing ever had, at least in terms of his breathing. Maybe his body just wasn’t built for it. He’d have to ask around to see if anyone had heard of it, because Giyuu was determined to force himself to be built for it. 

He remembered how much longer it had taken Akaza to heal from the wounds that breath style gave. It felt as slow as a regular, non-Moon demon, not Upper Moon Three. Perhaps that was just because he hadn’t encountered that style before, but Giyuu wasn’t so sure. 

Maybe the Dance of the Fire God was more powerful than it seemed. 

Finally reaching the door, Giyuu paused. He could hear a soft voice in the hall - is that Kocho? Peeking his head out, Giyuu saw Kocho standing there with Nezuko. Nezuko was in her small form, so Kocho could see straight over her head. When she looked up, he whipped his head back inside the room, holding his breath. As soon as he heard Kocho’s voice start up again, he slowly looked back into the hall.

“Nezuko, I wanted to thank you,” Kocho smiled at her, stroking her hand softly over her head. Nezuko tilted her head to the side, confused. “For making my dream come true.”

Wrapping her in a hug, Kocho rested her chin atop Nezuko’s head, smile turning somber. Looking up once more, she met Giyuu’s eyes, but made no move to send him away. She pulled back from Nezuko, keeping her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

“I always wanted to befriend demons, but I could never bring myself to be friends with killers unless they repented. But you, you’re different. So thank you for proving me wrong, for showing me that demons can be good,” gently, Kocho moved one of her hands to cup Nezuko’s cheek. “Thank you for being my friend, Nezuko. I can rest easy now that I know you’ve made my dream come true.” 

Giyuu couldn’t see Nezuko’s face, but he knew by the way she moved her head she was smiling as wide as her face would allow. She pulled her into another hug, reaching up to pat Kocho on her own head this time. Kocho’s eyes blew wide, looking almost sad for a moment before she reciprocated again, the warmest smile Giyuu had ever seen on her crossing her face. This time, when she pulled back, Kocho cupped her mouth and animatedly whispered something to Nezuko. She pointed in Giyuu’s direction, turning Nezuko’s head so she could spot him.

Obediently, Nezuko’s eyes followed in the direction of Kocho’s outstretched hand, resting on Giyuu. Overjoyed, she ran towards him, growing in size until she was taller than Giyuu himself. She wrapped him in a hug, cradling his head in the crook of her neck. Giyuu was stunned. He didn’t know how to react to her being huge. The last time she had done that was when she was attacking Tanjiro in the snow-ridden tundra, but now she was just being affectionate, smothering him as gently as she was able to. Only his eyes were able to peek over her shoulder, where he saw Kocho stifling a laugh behind her hands at his predicament. 

Still startled, Giyuu patted her on the back lightly, gesturing for her to shrink again when she pulled back. Finally at her normal size, she hugged him again, being extra gentle around his ribs.

“Good morning, Tomioka,” the remnants of laughter still lingered in Kocho’s voice, mirth evident on her face as she looked at the pair. “You should still be in bed.”

“I was looking for Nezuko,” patting the girl’s head, he earnt a happy hum for his efforts. 

“And now you’ve found her,” clapping her hands once, Kocho walked over to them. “So time to go back to bed.” 

She pulled Nezuko back off him, and began to usher him back into his room. At his slow pace, Kocho began to get frustrated.

“Nezuko, can you lift him back to his bed?” she brought the girl closer to her side, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. With a nod Nezuko ran at him, arms outstretched to scoop him off his feet.

“Wait no-!”

Giyuu’s protests were futile.

Nezuko lifted him up like she had in the forest, delivering him back to his bed with ease. Face burning, Giyuu turned his head away from Kocho, unable to meet her eyes.

“My, my, Tomioka! Are you embarrassed?” she trilled, flitting over to where he lay. Giyuu remained silent. “Aw, but I already know this isn’t the first time you’ve been carried by our little Nezuko here! Isn’t that right, Nezuko?” 

She nodded happily, sitting on top of her box next to Giyuu’s bed.

“How do you know about that?” he spluttered, barely forcing the words out.

“Tokito told me!” she singsonged, gently poking his cheek between the scrapes. 

“But he promised not to,” Giyuu muttered under his breath, busying himself with checking over Nezuko. None of the blood that had been on her from the fight remained, nor any of the tears in her kimono. Perhaps Aoi had been the one to clean it.

“Well, how unfortunate for you that he forgot about his promise, but not the thing he promised to keep secret!” reaching for something on his nightstand, Kocho briefly paused her poke attack. “Nezuko, can you promise me to watch over Tomioka and make sure he rests?” 

Kocho leaned over Giyuu in the bed, pinky extended toward Nezuko. Determined look on her face, Nezuko wrapped her finger around Kocho’s carefully avoiding scratching her with her nail.

They shook on it, Kocho leaving soon after, telling him to rest one more time over her shoulder. Nezuko turned her attention fully to him, eyebrows furrowing when she finally looked over his face. Touching his cheeks, he could feel small scabs and scratches all over his skin, and probably some bruises, too.

“I’m fine, Nezuko. It will look worse than it is,” she stared him down for a moment, before giving in with a nod. She began to fuss over his blankets, pulling them up over him despite his attempts at protesting. After a while of trying to stop her, Giyuu gave in. She was an older sister, once. It might be comforting to let her play that role every now and again. 

He went to talk to her again, but she frowned. Standing up from her box, Nezuko reached up over him and covered his eyes so they were forced shut. Giyuu wanted to protest, but when his eyes were forcibly closed he realised just how tired he still was. Deciding just this once to give in, he let himself drift back to sleep, the feeling of Nezuko’s nails lulled him away.

***

The feeling of his head being held upright woke Giyuu up again. Blearily, he blinked the sleep from his eyes, to see Aoi was the one holding his head up.

“Good, you’re awake,” lowering his head back down, she picked up a cup from the table beside her. “Drink this, it’s medicine from Shinobu to help your ribs.”

Pulling himself up in the bed, he propped himself up on one elbow and took the cup from Aoi. She watched him carefully, making sure he drank every last drop. Satisfied, she took the cup back and unwrapped the bandages on his head. Taking a tub from the table, she began to swipe some sort of medicine across the cut.

“Thank the gods you drink medicine without complaint,” Aoi muttered, more to herself than in conversation. “If I had to deal with one more Zenitsu, I think I would’ve lost my mind.”

Giyuu remembered the last time he had been here, when Zenitsu had screamed and tried to hide from her when it was time to take his medicine. Lifting his head so she could wrap more bandages around the cut, he suddenly felt bad for the girl.

Carefully, she checked the bandages around his ribs, rewrapping them after spreading a cooling, numbing cream across them.

“Shinobu says you’re allowed to move around today, but it’ll probably hurt so this should ease the pain for a while,” patting the tie, she looked pleased with her own work. “I cleaned the blood out of your haori and uniform, and stitched back up any tears. It’s sitting over on the other bed for you if you’d like to get changed when I leave.” 

“Thank you, Aoi,” he watched her as she gathered up the old bandages and used cup. Nodding at him in acknowledgement, she turned to face him again.

“Nezuko has been watching over you as much as she can,” Aoi looked over to where Nezuko slept on a futon next to Giyuu’s bed. “She was going to sleep on the floor beside you, despite all the free beds in here so we had to bring in a futon for her. It’s been a few days since you last woke up. She kept trying to stop Shinobu and I from giving you medicine. Shinobu had to explain exactly what all of them were doing before Nezuko would let her give it to you.”

Furrowing his brows, he frowned down at Nezuko in confusion. “Why?”

“Shinobu says she’s trying to protect you,” Aoi shrugged, walking to the door. “Something about how losing her older brother affected her. She said you’re not ‘replacing’ his role but still filling a hole Nezuko had in her heart, so now she’s desperate to keep you safe at any cost.” 

With that, she left, closing the door softly behind her. Giyuu turned to stare at Nezuko for a moment in wonder. She’s desperate to keep me safe? Even from Kocho and other people she knows?

So much of Nezuko reminded him of Tsutako. From the way she’d pat his head, to her stroking his hair as he fell asleep. Even when she had protected him from Tokito in the forest Giyuu was reminded of his sister. She’d died to save him that day, all those years ago, and he never got to thank her, or apologise for wasting her life on him.

“Giyuu, you have to promise me. Promise me you’ll live, no matter what happens!” Tsutako cupped his face, trying to quell the tremor in her hands. Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back down, wincing at every bang she heard in the doorway.

“I promise-” she cut him off with a kiss to his forehead. Resting her own against his hair, she took in a shaky breath.

“I love you, ‘Yuu. Remember that. Be good, and live for the both of us, okay?”

She shut the door behind her, never coming back out, never walking back through.

Nezuko stirred on the floor next to him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. When she saw him already looking at her, she smiled sleepily up at him. Unconsciously, he smiled back down at her, pushing the old memory aside.

Maybe Tsutako’s sacrifice wasn’t a waste after all.

“Did I wake you?” Giyuu asked as she sat up. Softly, she shook her head, standing up next to him. Humming, he patted her head. “Why don’t you go play with the little butterflies? I’m going outside too.”

Nezuko frowned for a while, looking back and forth between him and the garden she could see through the window. Finally she nodded, bringing his clothes from the bed across from them to his lap before she ran off outside. 

He got changed with ease, ribs not hurting in the slightest when he raised his arms. Kocho truly was gifted with her pharmaceuticals. Wandering through the halls of the Butterfly Estate, Giyuu meant to go outside but found himself following the sound of male voices.

“-we’ve been pretending everything was normal this whole time, we tried to brush off Tanjiro’s death! Lazing around the Butterfly Estate being good-for-nothing dead weight to Shinobu and everyone else! We’ve fallen behind everyone from our Final Selection, Kanao is in a different realm to us altogether. Now even Nezuko is out fighting Upper Moons!” Zenitsu ranted, fistfuls of his hair in his grasp. “It’s pathetic! She’s just a little girl, but she’s fighting alongside a pillar!”

“So what do we do then?” Inosuke pulled out his swords, brandishing them wildly. “Go out and look for an Upper Moon to fight?”

“Go back to training, idiots,” Giyuu walked around the corner, showing himself. Zenitsu squeaked, and Inosuke lowered his swords for a moment before pointing them at Giyuu.

“Hah? Fight me!” he moved closer to him, trying to pull out a response. Giyuu stared blankly at the eyes of Inosuke’s mask until he wilted, lowering his swords properly.

“Will you train us?” Zenitsu sidled up to Giyuu, following close behind him as he started to walk outside. 

“If I happen to be training Nezuko, you can listen in,” he offered, breathing the fresh night air deeply. “Otherwise ask Kocho or Kanao.”

“But you’re the one who fought an Upper Moon,” Zenitsu whined, tugging on Giyuu’s arm. He glared until the hand was removed from his sleeve. “I know I lacked motivation before. But seeing Nezu come back covered in blood like that, carrying a broken sword, it lit a fire under me.”

“I have to get better than Tanjiro,” Inosuke growled, hands tightening on his swords. “I said I’d beat him, lying around here isn’t getting me any closer! I couldn’t even beat that spider demon in the forest to help him against the Lower Moon. Maybe if I had been there he wouldn’t be dead.”

Sighing, Giyuu turned to face them both again. “If you want to fight Upper Moons, you need to get to a pillar level. You’re nowhere near that yet. Learn to use Total Concentration Breathing first.” 

Nodding, they both ran off to grab their practice gourds, blowing into them furiously.

“You should be sitting down,” Kocho popped out of nowhere, tilting her body to look up at his face. “Just because your ribs don’t hurt right now doesn’t mean they’re not still broken.”

Sitting down without complaint, Kocho took a seat next to them. They sat in silence, watching as Zenitsu and Inosuke finally trained properly.

“Aren’t you curious as to what I was saying to Nezuko the other day?” Kocho rested her head on her knees, hugging them to her chest. “I know you were listening.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to tell me, so I didn’t ask,” Kocho frowned at him.

“Tomioka, you’re so dense,” she sighed, turning her head to check on the training duo. “This is why nobody likes you.”

“Nezuko likes me,” he smiled softly, looking down at the grass. Kocho scoffed.

“Stop smiling like that,” her words were harsh, but her tone was light. “Nezuko’s made you all soft.”

“Is that a problem?” he tilted his head, confused. She was always saying he was too closed off and hard to talk to, so why would this be something to complain about?

“It’s gross,” she rolled her eyes, kicking at the grass her toes could reach. They sat in silence again, before Giyuu broke it, watching the butterflies dance across the fence.

“Kocho, are we friends?” 

She spluttered, caught off guard. “What?”

“Are we friends?” he looked at her from the corner of his eye, watching as she composed herself, airy smile wiped from her face. Fiddling with her fingers, she deliberated for a moment before dropping her head into her hands with a large sigh.

“Yeah, we’re friends,” her words were muffled, whispering past her fingers. “You have to call me Shinobu now, all my other friends do.”

Giyuu thought it over, nodding to himself once. “Okay. You can call me Giyuu then.” 

Shinobu uncovered her face, but kept the cheek closest to him resting in her hand. “So, Giyuu, are you curious now?”

“Yes,” he nodded in time with his voice. “I always was, but we weren’t friends before.”

“You’re insufferable,” she laughed a little, but launched into her story anyway. “Do you remember my sister, Kanae?”

Giyuu hummed a yes, not wanting to cut her off. Kanae had been a pillar when he was offered the role; she was always sweet to him, but he had pushed her away with everyone else. Remaining respectful of the distance he seemed to want, she left him alone, but always greeted him at pillar meetings when they ran into each other.

“She had a sweet soul. I’m surprised she even managed to find the strength to kill demons in the first place,” smiling sadly, Shinobu grabbed on to the sleeves of her haori, bringing them close to her body. “It was only to protect those in need; to save them from suffering the same fate that we did. But it was surprising nonetheless. She was always stronger than me, too. I’m too small to be able to cut a demon’s head off, but she wasn’t. I wish we could’ve swapped places, so she never had to fight demons at all. I didn’t want her to lose the inherently good part of herself when she killed. Luckily, she never did. Every day she would say to me that she never wanted me to lose the smile she loved so dearly.”

Shinobu stared wistfully up at the butterflies, smiling oh-so slightly, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of Kanae’s haori. He remembered that much about her, at least.

“Kanae had a dream. She wanted to befriend demons,” laughing to herself sadly, Shinobu continued. “It seemed far-fetched at the time - how could you befriend something that wants to eat you alive? - but when I met Nezuko, I thought I might have been the naive one all along. When she died, I took her hopes and dreams upon myself. It turned out that she was right, there are demons worth sparing out there,” sighing, Shinobu stared up at the sky. “You saw that before any of the rest of us did. How?”

“I didn’t,” following her gaze, he focussed on one particularly bright star. “I was going to kill Nezuko that day.”

“So you’re not an incompetent pillar,” she joked, poking him in the side. “What made you change your mind?”

“She was starving; I got there moments too late to save the rest of her’s and Tanjiro’s family,” he shuddered, remembering what he saw in their family home. Children, even a baby, all slaughtered, and left to bleed out as if they were nothing. “But she didn’t attack Tanjiro. Rather, she stood in front of him to protect him from me.”

Frowning, she jabbed her finger into his arm. “This is why you should talk more! If you had just said that during the pillar meeting-”

“My words alone would not have convinced Iguro and Shinazugawa.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right there,” she conceded, but she kept her finger digging into his arm. 

“That hurts,” Giyuu looked down at it, but made no move to remove her hand.

“Good,” Shinobu twisted it in the same spot. “So it’s Nezuko specifically that’s different? No wonder Muzan seems to be on the move.”

“So Kanae wanted to befriend demons?” Giyuu pulled her hand off of him, rubbing the spot to ease the pain.

“And she wanted to help them,” wry smile on her face, Shinobu stretched out her finger. “I suppose somewhat like you’re doing now. I don’t know if it was a cure she was specifically after, but she did want to help them in some way.”

“Sounds like Tanjiro,” he rested his cheek on his fist, tilting his head towards her. Shinobu laughed softly.

“From what I’ve heard about him, I think they would’ve gotten along well,” sighing, she traced the lines on her haori. “Did you ever talk to Kanae?”

“Not really,” he shook his head, flicking his hair from his face. “I kept my distance from everyone, and she respected that. We weren’t close.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Shinobu giggled, smoothing her haori over her knee. “From how much he dislikes you right now, I can’t imagine Shinazugawa would’ve been all too happy if you had gotten close to my sister.”

Giyuu furrowed his brows, confused.

“Why would he care about who Kanae spoke to?” 

“Did you not know?” laughing at the look on his face, Shinobu poked his cheek multiple times. “Are you that dense, Giyuu?”

Giyuu batted her hand away again, sulking.

“Shinazugawa was… very close to my sister,” taking pity on him, Shinobu explained. “I don’t know how they acted at pillar meetings - or maybe you were too busy sulking in your usual corner to notice - but he would come to the Butterfly Estate to visit her often.”

Silently pleading for her to elaborate - and choosing to ignore the sulking comment - Giyuu stayed silent.

“He was much more polite around all the girls than you’d think he would be,” she smiled softly, lost in her own memories. “One time Kanae wasn’t back from a mission yet, so Aoi - who was tiny at the time - dragged him out here to play with her. I came back out here to check on her and found her riding his shoulders, flowers decorating her suspiciously well-braided hair. By the time Kanae got back, Aoi had sloppily decorated his hair with flowers too, and they were being chased around by bees.” 

Shinobu laughed lightly at her memory, seemingly visualising it as she looked around the garden. She was broken from her thoughts by Inosuke finally managing to shatter a gourd, yelling about how he beat Zenitsu.

“Nice job, Inosuke!” she called out to him, waving as he cheered. “Another time, Shinazugawa was waiting for Kanae again and ended up helping Kanao in her training. He adjusted her grip and stance with surprising gentleness, fixing her issue that we had been working on for months in just a few hours,” resuming her earlier tracing of her haori, she smiled. “Kanao didn’t react, but I think even she was happy that day.”

“Why was he so kind to you all?” Giyuu asked, finally.

“Did you know he has a younger brother? Himejima is training him personally,” she quirked a brow at him, continuing when he shook his head. “I think he, like all the rest of us, lost some family to demons. He was probably the eldest son and had other younger siblings.”

“So he looked after everyone here like they were his siblings?”

“It seemed like it, for a while. But he never came back when Kanae died,” she sighed wistfully, clenching her haori in her fist. “Everyone asked about him for a while; even Kanao flipped her coin to ask me if he was coming back to train with her. I never knew what to say to them.”

They sat in silence for a while, Giyuu letting Shinobu gather her thoughts.

“I tried to speak with him again, after we all started moving on. All my letters went unanswered, and I wasn’t able to visit him because Kanae had never taken me with her to his estate. I didn’t know where it was. When I was promoted to being a pillar, I tried to confront him, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye anymore.”

“Why?” Giyuu asked, softly. Shinobu didn’t answer for a moment, instead she slowly smoothed back over the creases she had created.

“I don’t know exactly. It could be that I wear Kanae’s old haori now, or that we look too similar and he can’t stop seeing her when he looks at me. All he could say to me that day was that he was sorry. Shinazugawa never spoke to me again outside of our duties, nor did he visit the Butterfly Estate if he was injured, preferring to treat himself rather than see anyone again,” she sighed, playing with the ends of her hair. Shinobu was more fidgety than usual; sharing all of this was making her uncomfortable. “I just don’t know how to break the news to everyone that he’s now missing.”

“He’s not missing,” Giyuu blurted out over the sound of Zenitsu finally cracking a tiny gourd. “The demon I fought, Akaza, told me about how Shinazugawa was turned into a demon.”

Shinobu choked, fists clenching on her knees.

“So Oyakata was right, then,” she hissed, knuckles turning white. “They’re using him for his memories?”

“I don’t know,” he frowned, remembering Akaza’s brags about how strong Shinazugawa was. “All I was told was it meant one less pillar around.”

“At least he’s alive for now,” loosening her fists, Shinobu massaged her knuckles to stimulate the blood flow. “Maybe you can try and find a cure for him, too. I can send a letter to Oyakata for you, so you don’t have to risk using your own crow,” she smirked at him, remembering the time Giyuu’s crow had mistakenly delivered her a letter that wasn’t even meant to be sent. His cheeks burned red at the thought of her reading his words that detailed why he was not hated by everyone that she wasn’t meant to see.

“Don’t remind me,” he almost whined, turning his head away at the sound of her laughter.

“By the way, I wanted to tell you you’re a goddamn idiot,” Giyuu’s head snapped back to face her, aghast.

“Why now?” incredulous, he stared at her with wide eyes.

“You nearly died last week, you do realise,” her eyes flicked to where the bandages wrapped around his broken ribs. “If you had done much more damage, your ribs would’ve stabbed through your organs and I wouldn’t have been able to save you.”

“I had to do it. He was going to take Nezuko,” ghosting his hand over his ribs, Giyuu was surprised at how little he cared about the severity of the injury. He’d do it all over again if it meant that Nezuko was safe. From the corner of his eye, he saw Shinobu look away, a wry smile on her face, but she said nothing. 

They resumed their earlier silence, watching as Zenitsu and Inosuke bickered their way through training. As much as they complained, they did seem to be much more motivated this time than they had been previously. Perhaps Nezuko’s near death experience was enough to remind them of how they had felt when Tanjiro died. When they finally decided to retire for the night, Shinobu spoke.

“Hey, Giyuu?” she called his attention, but she wasn’t looking at him. “Can I ask you something?”

Humming, he turned to face her again.

“Why do you think you’re better than the rest of us?”

“Huh?” Giyuu frowned, taken off guard. “I don’t?”

“Then why do you isolate yourself? It comes across as though you think we are below you, you know,” Shinobu’s voice was flat, betraying none of her emotions. Sighing, Giyuu resigned himself to share things he never thought he would.

“I’ve always felt like I don’t deserve to be one of you,” he turned away from her, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Why not?” she tilted her head to get a better view of his face, voice light.

“I’ve always seen myself to be a transitional pillar, filling the role for someone better. Tanjiro was supposed to be the one who replaced me,” now he was the one fidgeting, playing with the sleeve of his own haori.

“A transitional… Giyuu, don’t tell me you’re trying to die!” she grabbed his shoulder, brows furrowed in pity. “Why on earth do you think you don’t deserve to be a pillar?”

Giyuu’s palms began to sweat, growing slick the more he thought about telling Koc- Shinobu everything. She wouldn’t make fun of him for this, that much he knew, but it still made him feel vulnerable. Sensing his discomfort, she loosened her grip on his shoulder, merely keeping her hand there as a comforting weight.

“Is that why you took Nezuko in?” her voice was soft now, like he was a dying patient she needed to comfort in their final moments. “To try and earn your spot?”

“No,” he forced out, training his eyes on the ground. The grass waved in the light breeze, illuminated by the moon. “I felt guilty for being the reason that her entire family is dead.”

“You know that’s not-”

“I also saw myself in her grief,” he cut Shinobu off before she could pity him further. They were friends. It would be okay to trust her. It might even be nice to tell someone . Her mouth had been open the whole time, words dying in her throat. Now she closed it, silently giving him the cue to talk. 

“My sister died for me,” linking his fingers together, he tried to quell the need to fidget. “Our parents were already dead years before the demon came. She was engaged; due to get married the next day, but she gave her life for me. I never felt like I was worth her sacrifice.”

He wasn’t looking at her, but he could tell Shinobu was having a hard time staying silent so he could speak.

“My teacher, Urokodaki, found me in the forest somewhere. I had to run away from our village as no one believed me that it was the work of a demon, they thought I was just mentally ill and needed to be locked away. Urokodaki believed me, so I went with him. He already had another trainee at his home, a boy the same age as me named Sabito,” running his fingers along his left sleeve, Giyuu took a deep breath. “We trained together, but he was always better than me. He was probably the most gifted swordsman I ever met.”

“What happened to Sabito?” looking at her from the corner of his eye, Giyuu saw Shinobu was watching his hand on his haori sleeve. Sympathy still decorated her face, but now it was laced with anger. Whether on his behalf, or it reminded her of her own sister, he wasn’t sure.

“He died in our Final Selection. I was injured early on, but Sabito killed every last demon on that mountain. Except for one. Did you ever see it, in your Selection? The hand demon?” turning to face her now, he waited for her response.

“In passing,” she nodded once. “It was too huge for me to risk going near.”

“Sabito could’ve killed it, I’m sure,” a butterfly flew in front of his face, landing on Shinobu’s knee. “But he was too exhausted from protecting me, and everyone else in our Selection. The demon crushed him.”

“Giyuu, I-”

“He was the only one who died in our Selection that year,” Giyuu cut her off, finding it hard to stop himself from talking now that he had already started. “That’s why I’m not meant to be a pillar. I let my sister die for me, and I didn’t even pass my Final Selection. Tanjiro was meant to be the true water pillar, Urokodaki’s true successor, but I fucked that up, too.”

“Who cares if you think you didn’t pass,” Shinobu finally stopped him, brows pulling together on her forehead. “Oyakata wouldn’t ask you to be a pillar if he didn’t think you deserved it.”

“I-”

“No, I’m talking now,” raising a hand in front of Giyuu’s face, she silenced him. “Oyakata said Nezuko is allowed to join our ranks and be your tsuguko despite both never having set foot in a Final Selection and being a bonafide demon. So, let’s say you didn’t pass. Do you really think the man who would allow a demon to be a pillar’s tsuguko would mind that one of his pillars didn’t kill a demon in their selection?” Giyuu was quiet, mind racing. 

“No,” he finally choked out, eyes wide. Staring into nothing, Giyuu thought back to his fight with Akaza. I’m the one who accepted the role of pillar, so I had better act like it. That’s what he had thought. Acting like a pillar was the easy part, but believing he deserved to be one?

“Of course he wouldn’t mind. He doesn’t care that I can’t even cut off a demon’s head! Giyuu, you’re one of the longest standing pillars right now. I wouldn’t say that’s very transitional,” she smiled, poking him in the shoulder. “Don’t make me comfort you the same day you get me to admit we are friends. This is gross.”

“Thanks, Shinobu,” he smiled softly at her.

“Don’t mention it. No seriously, don’t, I don’t need people thinking I’m all high and mighty like you are,” with an exaggerated huff, she rested her cheek on her palm. “Who knew you were such a talker under all of that unbridled angst. My ears hurt.”

“Shut it,” Giyuu glared at her as she massaged her temples, feigning a migraine.

“By the way, Giyuu. I give Nezuko a sword and then literally within one night it’s broken? I blame you for this,” she looked at him from beneath her massaging hands. “You’re lucky it was just a spare.”

Shooting her a withering look, Giyuu declined to comment. Shinobu smiled softly. Was she trying to distract him from what they spoke about earlier?

“Some letters came for you over the past week,” Shinobu stood next to him, still. “Three total. You’re quite popular lately, aren’t you?”

“Who from?” Giyuu moved to stand up, but she pushed him back into a seated position. 

“The swordsmith village, Maeda the uniform designer, and one from a lady called Tamayo,” she counted them off on her fingers. In the distance, Giyuu could hear loud crashing followed by Inosuke screaming something inaudible. With a sigh, Shinobu turned to leave.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened to Tanjiro, or the rest of the Kamados,” Shinobu was facing back into her estate, one hand resting on his shoulder. “Nezuko doesn’t blame you at all, and neither do I. It’s not your fault. You don’t need to shoulder the responsibility for everyone who dies around you,” with a squeeze of her hand, she let him go, promising to send his letters out later.

As the night continued, Giyuu stayed in place, letting the breeze pass him by. Giggling grew steadily louder, before it stopped just before him. There, he saw Naho, Kiyo, Sumi and Nezuko, all smiling and laughing to each other. Nezuko stepped forward, bracing her hands against his knees and stood on his lap. Startled, Giyuu raised his hands to balance her, but she was already steady on her own. Presenting him with a sloppy crown made of blue and purple flowers, all four of the girls waited eagerly for his reaction.

“Is this for me?” reaching up to grab it, Giyuu gently cradled it in his palms, inspecting it. The stems of each flower had little nicks taken out of them, Nezuko’s nails stained suspiciously green. 

“Nezuko made it,” Kiyo leaned around her so she could look at Giyuu.

“We showed her how by making one for ourselves, but she wanted to make one for you,” Sumi pointed at each of their crowns in turn.

“We made one for Shinobu, Aoi and Kanao too!” Naho held up the spares, all with different colours that matched the respective girl she listed. 

“Thank you,” passing it back to Nezuko, he saw her pout. Scrambling to correct it, he ducked his head a little. “Would you put it on for me?”

Smiling wide, she placed the crown atop his hair, jumping off his legs to stand with the other girls and admire her handiwork. Making sure it wouldn’t fall off, Giyuu straightened up where he sat. The girls all turned to one another, smiling and congratulating Nezuko on a job well done.

“It suits you very much Tomioka!” Kiyo clapped her hands, the other girls nodding in unison. After he thanked them all individually - using their names to spite Shinobu - they ran off, Nezuko in tow for her night’s training.

“Ah, Tomioka,” Kanao crept up behind him when everyone else had left, holding a stack of letters in her hands. Passing them over, she bowed once, making sure the lopsided flower crown stayed put. She left before he could thank her.

Opening the first one, Giyuu squinted, struggling to decipher the harsh scrawl threatening to tear the paper.

The sword will be ready in 14 days. I will personally bring it by then.

There was no signature, nor indication of how much time had passed. Stumped, Giyuu scratched his head. He wasn’t even sure how long he had been asleep.

“Giyuu!” Shinobu was leaning out of one of the windows in the Estate, hand cupped around her mouth to make her voice boom. “That arrived 13 days ago! The sword is coming tomorrow!”

How did she know he read that letter first?

A loud crack resounded from the room behind him, accompanied by a squeak that sounded suspiciously like Kanao.

“You’re meant to smash it with your breath, Nezuko, not break off the top with your grip!” Kanao’s voice was exasperated, but she almost seemed amused. 

Ignoring the noises, Giyuu grabbed the second letter. All it said was that Nezuko’s uniform was coming alongside the swordsmith, and that Maeda “hoped he enjoyed how it fit”.

Giyuu did not like how that sounded.

Sighing, he put the first two papers down, leaving only the third in his grasp. Heart full of hope that it was an actual letter, he opened it.

Giyuu Tomioka, 

My name is Tamayo. I received the letter from your leader, and am willing to hold a meeting with you. I heard you recently fought an Upper Moon Demon, so we can postpone until you have healed to meet with you. Please bring Nezuko, if you can. I would like to see her again, especially after learning the news of poor Tanjiro. 

When you are healed, a cat will appear for you. Please, follow it. It will lead you to my friend, Yushiro, who will bring you to our home.

I wish you a fast and easy recovery.

All he had to do was follow a cat? She said nothing about leaving his weapons behind, even though she must have known he was a pillar. Either her faith in Nezuko was absolute, or she was willing to take this great of a risk to see her again knowing what could happen. Giyuu wondered what she would have to say to him when they finally met.

Gathering up his papers, Giyuu stood up to head back inside. The sun was beginning to creep along the skyline at the same time as he heard Nezuko yawning. Knocking on the door to the training room, Giyuu called for Nezuko, taking her back to his infirmary room. Taking off his - and Nezuko’s - flower crowns, he laid them on the side table so they didn’t get crushed. Lying down, he slept comfortably for the first time since he broke his ribs, thanks to Shinobu’s medicines.

***

A tugging on his sleeve woke him up. Giyuu saw Nezuko at his bedside, only her eyes and one hand visible over the side of his bed. When she saw he was awake, she popped up, smiling wide enough to show all of her teeth.

Wait. Teeth?

“Nezuko, your muzzle is gone,” unconsciously, Giyuu touched her cheek where the strap had once been. “Do you want another one?”

Contemplative, she tugged her brows together, thinking it over. After a moment, she shook her head no.

“It might make people more comfortable around you,” he tapped her cheek once, before taking his hand back. “Not everyone trusts that you’re in control of yourself.”

Whining, she shook her head again, closing her lips over her teeth. Sighing, Giyuu smiled, ruffling her hair. It was probably uncomfortable to wear a muzzle all the time, and she was capable of controlling herself now. Even if people had a problem with her being a demon, she was travelling with a pillar, so those complaints didn’t really have any basis. 

“Okay, let’s keep it off,” Nezuko cheered, smiling up at him again. “Promise me you can control yourself?” nodding furiously, Nezuko scrambled, grabbing his hand. She pulled out his pinky finger, wrapping her own around his before shaking it like she had done the day prior. 

“Well, isn’t this heartwarming,” Shinobu called out to them from the doorway. She smirked pointedly at their pinkies, Nezuko waving all the while. “Haganezuka the swordsmith is here.”

Quickly, Giyuu pulled himself out of bed so Shinobu could lead them through the estate to a different room. This one was large and empty, but blocked off from any evening sun that threatened to break through. In the centre sat a man, holding a light pink scabbard on his lap. His face was covered by a hyottoko mask, just like all the other swordsmiths . Beside him was a black demon slayer uniform. 

“My name is Haganezuka,” he began, head tilted down to the sword he cradled in his lap. “I am the one who forged the blade that will be used by Nezuko Kamado.”

Ushering her into the room first, Giyuu followed close behind Nezuko, both sitting across from Haganezuka. She seemed to vaguely remember the man, a sombre look passing across her face for a brief moment.

“This is the nichirin blade,” he continued his spiel, unphased. “I am the one who forged it.” 

“Thank you, Haganezuka, but we have all heard this speech before!” Shinobu lingered at the door, watching what transpired. 

“The nichirin blade’s raw materials-”

“Please, we do not need to hear this again!” her voice was sweet, but there was a threatening undertone to it. Giyuu could faintly see a vein throbbing in her forehead. “We are all excited to see the sword, so why don’t we get right to it?” finally, he lifted his head, seemingly acknowledging her words.

“You’re the other child of burning crimson then?” he asked Nezuko directly. Confused, she turned to Giyuu for assistance.

“...”

“Your hair is orange and your eyes are pink. Your family was in the business of making fire, so it is lucky for them to have a child like-”

“Sword! Please!” Shinobu forced the words past gritted teeth, smile turning into a simper. Getting the hint, Haganezuka lifted the sword in his hands.

“I don’t know what you meant by cute, so this is what I created,” this time, his words were pointed towards Giyuu. “The blade might turn red, huh, Tomioka? Your brother’s was so disappointing, being black.”

Passing over the sword to Nezuko, Giyuu was finally able to get a good look at it. The handle was wrapped in black, the diamonds that showed through a bright pink. Similarly, the hilt was black and pink; the outer and inner rings the same bright pink as the diamonds. The background of the hilt was black, decorated by a pink vine pattern.

It was cute.

“Try taking the sword out of the scabbard,” he gestured to her, getting slightly more animated. Giyuu moved back a little to give her some room. 

Nezuko pulled her sword out of the scabbard, holding it directly before her in the air. It stayed silver for a moment, before a dark black took the colour over.

“HUH?” Haganezuka yelled, lunging toward Nezuko. “IT’S BLACK AGAIN?”

Giyuu threw an arm in front of her, stopping the smith in his tracks. He was unfortunately unphased.

“I THOUGHT I COULD FINALLY SEE A BRIGHT CRIMSON COLOURED BLADE THIS TIME, DAMN IT! BUT YOU HAD TO GO AND MAKE IT BLACK JUST LIKE YOUR BROTHER-”

“Haganezuka, OUT!” Shinobu’s rage was about to boil over, it was almost palpable. Silenced, he immediately stood up and left without complaint. Giyuu and Nezuko quietly watched him go.

“Congratulations, Nezuko!” all anger draining from her, Shinobu clapped a few times. “You finally have a blade that is purely your own!”

Still confused, Nezuko silently returned her blade to the scabbard, putting it on the floor beside her. Giyuu reached over to grab the uniform Haganezuka left behind. He hadn’t really thought about what to request, so he wasn’t surprised to see it was the skirted version of their uniform. Just as he was about to pass it over to Nezuko, Shinobu snatched it from him.

“Sorry, Giyuu, just let me check this first,” she fiddled with the buttons on the front, holding it up to Nezuko’s chest. Getting him to hold one side tight to her shoulder, Shinobu pulled the other side tight. The front burst open, refusing to come anywhere close to closing. It looked just like the uniform Kanroji wore.

“Did Maeda send one of Kanroji’s uniforms by mistake?” he asked, confused. Why else would Nezuko have one like this?

“No,” Shinobu’s voice was strained, like she was fighting to stay calm. “Maeda is just a pervert, but I know just how we can deal with this. Sorry, Nezuko, you’ll have to wait just a little longer to get a uniform of your own. We can’t have you wearing this, it’s just ridiculous. Honestly, you’d think that sorry excuse for a man would have some sense of decorum! Giving this to a child, good grief.” 

Passing it over to Giyuu, she instructed them to wait right there as she gathered some supplies. Giyuu busied himself with helping Nezuko fit her scabbard to her waist, so it wouldn’t come loose as she moved. 

The sun had been setting before, but it was fully down by the time Shinobu came back.

“Sorry I took so long, just had to set something up!” gesturing for them both to follow her, she made sure Giyuu brought along the uniform. Outside of the Butterfly Estate sat a fire pit, small fire already burning. Aoi and Kanao were waiting beside the fire, the former stoking it with a metal rod. 

“Pass over the uniform, Giyuu,” Shinobu stretched a hand toward him, closing her fingers a few times in a grabbing motion. Confused, he did as she asked.

“Maeda is a giant pervert,” Aoi stabbed the coal beneath the fire, helping it to burn higher. “Shinobu burns all of our uniforms that come in looking like that, either in front of him if he delivers it personally, or she envelopes up the ashes and mails them back to him that way.” 

Shinobu was currently pouring oil over Nezuko’s new uniform, who was looking no less confused than she had been before.

“We then get to choose what we actually want,” Kanao whispered, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Maeda is scared of Shinobu now.”

“He should be, daring to send another one of these uniforms to my estate,” she grumbled, drenching the uniform thoroughly. “I mean really, he should know better by now. This is why he didn’t come himself, I bet. Next time I see him, we will be having words, I promise you that.”

“At least this is cathartic,” Aoi threw more coal on the fire, making the flames rise even higher.

“Aoi, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a little too fond of fire,” Shinobu, using a stick, picked up the uniform. “Luckily for you, I too find this part refreshing.”

Smoothly, she threw the uniform on the fire. The sheer volume of oil she had soaked it in caused the fire to burn above the roof of the estate, the uniform gone in seconds. Shinobu held her hands out towards the flame, warming them on the charred remains.

“Ah, this is comforting,” rubbing her hands together, she held them back out. “Just what I needed.” 

The other two girls followed suit, getting comfortable around the flame. Giyuu wasn’t sure if he had ever been this confused in his life. 

He decided to just follow suit. 

Holding his hands up to the flame, he warmed them on the burning uniform. Nezuko copied his action, extending her own hands out.

“That’s it, Nezuko!” Shinobu called out from the other side of the fire pit, face shadowed by the flickering flame. “Be careful to watch your sleeves!”

When the fire began to dull down, Aoi and Kanao placed a tight lid over the embers, extinguishing what was left. They dismantled the pit, scooping the burnt remnants of fabric into a small pouch, which was then tied off.

“Just sign that pouch with my name, if you could, Aoi,” Shinobu smirked, staring down at the still-smoking pit. “Now, we need to decide what kind of uniform you actually want, Nezuko! Kanao, if you could come over here?” 

Obediently, the girl stood by her side, unsure of what to do next.

“Okay! Nezuko, these are your options for a uniform!” Shinobu gestured between Kanao and herself. Taking it very seriously, Nezuko’s eyes darted between them both for a moment, before she turned to Giyuu, tugging on his sleeve. Her brows were furrowed, as if she couldn’t decide.

“Choose whatever you think you’d be more comfortable in,” was all he offered, turning her back around. Whining, she looked between them both before she hugged Shinobu.

“You want one like mine?” patting her head, Shinobu smiled, nodding to Kanao. She left to meet Aoi - presumably to inform her of Nezuko’s choice for the letter. Nezuko nodded against her chest. “I’ll make sure it gets to you quick! Maeda knows not to anger me twice in a row, so it should only be a few days before it arrives. Besides, Giyuu is still not allowed to leave, so it doesn’t matter too much.”

“Why not?” he frowned at her, confused.

“...You’re injured?” sighing, she shook her head at him. “Did you forget already?”

“I can’t feel it,” Giyuu attempted to defend himself, but he could already see Shinobu’s smile turning into a smirk. “You’re the one that gave me the medicine.”

She just laughed, offering nothing in response. Nezuko finally pulled away, content.

“Nezuko?” Giyuu called out to her, scanning her outfit. The kimono she wore was long, with a lot of extra fabric, so the task he had in mind would be easy, thankfully. “I can turn your kimono into a haori for you to wear over your uniform, if you’d like.” 

Excitedly, she nodded, looking it over herself. If she were able to keep wearing it, it could serve as another keepsake for her of Tanjiro. Adjusting the green and black bow on her head, Giyuu frowned lightly. It would have been nice if she could’ve worn Tanjiro’s haori instead.

“You know how to sew?” Shinobu scoffed, eyeing him up and down. “Since when?”

“I made my haori myself,” even though he glared at her, Giyuu’s tone was light.

“What possessed you to make it half and half like that then?” placing her hand on her hip, Shinobu shifted her weight to one leg.

“I wanted to honour Tsutako and Sabito equally,” at Shinobu’s prompting, he quickly explained who they both were to Nezuko. “The red half was from my sister’s kimono, the patterned half from Sabito’s. I sewed them together after Sabito died.”

“So you wear them with you, like I do with my haori and sword hilt,” she touched her sword absentmindedly. “And Kanao, with her butterfly pin.”

“Nezuko has Tanjiro in her hair bow and earrings,” touching one lightly, Giyuu ran the thumb over the pattern on its surface. A bright red sun was befitting of these siblings.

“I can help you with your craft project, should you need it,” Shinobu gathered up her matches and oil, passing them over to Kanao’s waiting hands. “By the way, Giyuu, Zenitsu and Inosuke desperately want you to train them today. So long as you don’t spar with them, you’re healthy enough to do so.”

Groaning, Giyuu tried to turn away, but she caught him by his collar. Forcing him to sit on the engawa, Shinobu stalked off inside to bring the boys out to meet him, Nezuko trailing behind her. When she returned from putting Shinobu’s fire materials away, Kanao took a seat next to him. He nodded to her in greeting.

Pulling out her coin, Kanao held it firm in her hands. She stared at it for a while, but did not flip it.

“I wanted to tell you something,” her voice was quiet, but it was steadier than the last time he spoke to her. “About Shinobu.”

“What is it?” curious, he looked over at her, meeting her eyes before she nervously darted them away.

“Ah… you have to promise me you won’t tell her what I said!” she squeaked, scrunching her eyes closed. Bemused, he humoured her.

“I promise I won’t tell Shinobu.”

“Okay,” fiddling with her coin, she swallowed a lump in her throat. “I know Shinobu teases you a lot, and acts like she doesn’t want you to be here-” cutting herself off, she took deep breaths, calming herself down. “But she’s always much happier when you and Nezuko are here.”

“Huh?” confused, Giyuu furrowed his brows. She’s happier when they’re around? Since when?

“The room you’ve been staying in has been kept set up,” ignoring his question, Kanao traced the face of her coin, calming the shaking in her hands. “I think she even pinned up the butterfly clips Nezuko picked out in there when she was installing light-proof curtains. No other guest has been allowed to sleep in that room since you stayed in it the first time. She’s even been calling it your room. I’m not sure,” she held her hands up in front of him, brows pulled up toward her forehead, “but I think you might be her best friend.”

Shocked, Giyuu sat still. It had only been yesterday that Shinobu finally admitted that he was her friend, and now this? How long had she been hiding this from him?

“She’s close with Kanroji too, but she seems happiest when she’s teasing you,” stowing her coin away in her uniform, Kanao looked over to him. “It may not seem like it to you, but I promise that’s the case.”

Giyuu felt his chest warm as his heart sped up, bringing a light flush to his cheeks. No one had said anything that nice about him since Sabito had died, and even then, he wasn’t one for soft words of encouragement or verbalised feelings. Neither was Shinobu - perhaps that was just the type of friends he acquired - but to hear Kanao say these things made him embarrassed, but happy.

“Also!” Kanao blurted out, seemingly unable to stop talking once she started. “Shinobu’s never said this out loud, but I think she’s proud of you for what you’ve done for Nezuko.”

“Really?” Giyuu quirked a brow, apprehensive. Since when did Shinobu have so many positive feelings about him? Kanao hummed a yes, her nods bobbing her ponytail up and down.

“I’ve brought the troublesome duo and Nezuko,” Shinobu reappeared, Zenitsu and Inosuke right behind her. Slumping over, Giyuu sighed, already exhausted for the night ahead. Shinobu took the two over through the garden, giving them instruction. Out of her eye line, Giyuu lifted his pointer finger to his lips in a shushing motion to Kanao, promising he’d keep quiet.

“Kanao, do you want to help me train those three?” gesturing to them, he got to his feet. With a quick nod, Kanao followed behind him.

“Tomioka,” Zenitsu dragged his name out, almost in a whine. “How are you feeling? We saw how injured you were after your fight with the Upper Moon to protect Nezu and wanted to check in with you!” 

His tone was sweet, but it felt deceptive. Giyuu remembered what Aoi had said, the last time he was at the Butterfly Estate.

“He’s just trying to get on your good side so you’ll let him marry Nezuko.”

A scowl crossed over his face, now glaring at Zenitsu. The boy folded in on himself, sweat beading on his brow. 

“Are you healthy enough to fight me?” Inosuke piped up, breaking Giyuu’s glare.

“Unfortunately not, Inosuke,” Shinobu clapped her hands by her face. “He’s only just gotten cleared to train you!”

Inosuke grumbled incoherently, but Zenitsu heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Do you have a staff?” Giyuu turned to Shinobu, touching the hilt of his sword lightly. “My sword is inappropriate to use.”

Shinobu frowned, but nodded anyway. Disappearing for only a moment, she returned with a wooden sword in hand.

“This is the best we’ve got,” she passed it over, hilt first. “Be careful not to tweak your ribs, and try to not give them injuries. They don’t heal like Nezuko does.”

“I won’t use it on Nezuko,” Giyuu scoffed, incredulous. Zenitsu was mumbling quietly about favouritism, but even he didn’t have any true complaints. “All three of you are going to complete the training I set out for you holding your breath.”

Detailing a complex training routine, Giyuu had all of the Butterfly Estate servants set them up during his speech. Shinobu, who had stuck around to observe, laughed quietly to herself.

“HUH?” Zenitsu yelled, grabbing the front of Giyuu’s uniform. “ARE YOU SOME KIND OF SLAVE DRIVER? THIS IS COMPLETELY UNREALISTIC!”

Nezuko growled from beside him, ripping his hand off of Giyuu. Shocked, he dropped his grip easily, letting her pull him away.

“This is pillar training. To learn Total Concentration Breathing, you need to up your lung capacity. If you want to be able to fight Upper Moons, this is the barest minimum skill required,” pointing at them with the end of his wooden sword, Giyuu grumbled. “If you can’t even do this, how do you expect to be able to protect Nezuko?”

Invigorated, the three of them began practicing Giyuu’s training regime, holding their breath all the while. Any time he saw one of the boys slip up and breathe, he ran after them brandishing the wooden sword.

“Gods,” Zenitsu was haggard, dragging himself across the ground. “He’s absolutely insane.”

Inosuke gasped for air, nodding in agreement. Brows drawn together tightly, Nezuko crouched down between them, patting their backs in encouragement.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Shinobu finally walked over, taking the wooden sword back from Giyuu. “The sun’s almost up. Giyuu, you can move back out of the infirmary again, to the same room you were in last time.”

Leaving Zenitsu and Inosuke on the ground, Nezuko skipped happily after him through the estate. When he entered his room, Giyuu saw that Kanao had been right. Black curtains covered the window firmly, attached at the sides and in the middle so no light could peek through. On the wall next to it hung the red and green butterfly pins they had left behind. Nezuko’s box was placed against the wall, a second futon laid out on the floor for her. Giyuu was touched that Shinobu had put so much effort in without telling him. 

“Goodnight, Nezuko,” he turned off the lantern that was in the corner of the room, drowning them both in darkness. When he laid down on his futon, Nezuko fumbled for his hand, holding on tight like she had done to his sleeve at Urokodaki’s house.

***

Giyuu trained the three of them every night, much to Zenitsu’s displeasure. Shinobu wasn’t there every night to save them, as she had pillar duties of her own to tend to. But as much as he complained, they all were able to hold their breath for much longer, and they moved up a gourd size almost every time they practised with them.

By the fourth night, Zenitsu and Inosuke gave up. Inosuke sulked on the ground in anger, not saying anything.

“I think I’ve done well today, if I do say so myself!” Zenitsu got up to leave, waltzing away. “I’m going to go and play!”

Shinobu was back today, so she caught Zenitsu before he could get too far, pulling Inosuke from the ground while she was at it.

“What Giyuu’s teaching you is a rudimentary technique, but to understand it, you need to put in a reasonable amount of effort,” smile wide on her face, she pushed them to stand with Nezuko. “Well, it’s only reasonable you can do it,” she placed one hand on Inosuke’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “But if you can’t, there’s nothing we can do about it. Nothing at all. Nothing.”

“Huh?” Inosuke yelled, steam flaring from his mask. “Of course I can do it! Don’t look down on me, damn it!” turning to face Zenitsu next, she clasped one of his hands between her own.

“Please, do your best, Zenitsu! I’ll be cheering for you the most,” she smiled sweetly, a dark blush appearing almost instantaneously across his cheekbones.

Finally, Shinobu turned to Nezuko, placing her hands on both her shoulders. “If you can do this, you’ll be able to protect Giyuu from getting that hurt ever again.” 

A fire burned in Nezuko’s eyes as she nodded, immediately launching into the routine with the boys. They were all completely motivated running around the garden at high speeds without taking a single breath.

“Your physical training is good, but they just needed a little motivation,” Shinobu stood next to him, calling out cheers to push them further every set. If they fell behind, Giyuu still chased them with his wooden sword. The combination of two pillars seemed to be incredibly effective, as by the time the sun rose, they’d all successfully destroyed the largest sized gourd Shinobu had on hand with their breath alone.

“Good work today, everyone!” she clapped, smile stretching her cheeks. “Next step: using Total Concentration Breathing all day and night!”

A collective groan tore through the group at the thought.

“I’ve enlisted Naho, Kiyo and Sumi to watch you all as you sleep, to make sure you don’t stop breathing correctly. Nezuko, this means for the next little while you’ll be staying in the same room as these two, so Giyuu’s sleep isn’t interfered with as he’s healing,” patting her hair softly, Shinobu’s smile became a little more genuine. “As soon as you perfect breathing correctly through the night, you can move back in again.”

Nezuko looked a little downtrodden, but nodded anyway. She hugged Giyuu tight, tugging him down to pat him on the head before moving back over to Shinobu.

“I’ve also laid out a different outfit for you, so Giyuu can get to work on making your haori,” leading them all inside, Shinobu walked through the estate, her voice softening in the distance when she dropped Giyuu back at his room.

It took another full week, but at the end of the seven days Giyuu had finished Nezuko’s haori - not without Shinobu teasing him mercilessly, especially when he stabbed himself with her sewing needle - Nezuko’s new uniform had arrived, and the three of them had mastered their breathing.

“Nezuko, you can come out now!” Shinobu called to her from beside Giyuu. She had insisted that Aoi help her get dressed, so she could reveal the finished outfit all at once.

The door opened, and out came Nezuko. Her haori was perfect - if Giyuu did say so himself, aside from the stabbing incident he was good at sewing - and the uniform did, fortunately, close. Without her muzzle, she looked every part a demon slayer. Turning to Giyuu for approval first, he smiled at her, nodding softly once. Shinobu was next, gushing over how cute she looked. Nezuko whirled around, looking for someone who was not there. Her earrings clinked as she spun, glinting in the lantern light. When she’d completed a full spin, her eyes widened in realisation, before she teared up slightly. Raising one hand to her earrings, she sniffled, blinking the tears away.

“I’m sure he’s proud of you,” Giyuu placed a hand on her head, ruffling her hair lightly. Nodding, she collected herself, wiping the remnants of her tears away. Even though she’d been doing good lately, her brother hadn’t been gone for long. Giyuu was just surprised it’d taken this long for her to be reminded of his absence again.

“Well, Giyuu, since you’ve finished training everyone,” Shinobu began softly, watching Nezuko with a soft frown on her face. “It’s time for some training of your own.”

Without waiting for a response, she dragged Giyuu through the halls of her estate, into a room that only had a table covered in cups at one side, with the rest being empty. Nezuko followed behind them, standing next to Aoi by the door.

“It’s time for your functional recovery training!” Shinobu clapped her hands, kneeling one one side of the cup-covered table. Giyuu, bemused, kneeled on the other side of her. “Your goal is to try and block me from lifting a cup full of medicine broth, instead lifting one of your own to splash me with. I will try to do the same to you. Aoi will tell us when to begin.”

Giyuu felt like there might be more to this than she was letting on, but brushed it aside. 

“Go!” Aoi called out, after a pause.

Their hands were flying. Every time a cup was slightly raised off the table, it was blocked immediately. It was a stalemate; no matter how much faster they moved, the other person still was able to catch up and block it. Finally, Shinobu managed to fake him out, drenching Giyuu in medicine broth.

“I win,” she smirked, empty cup still held in his face. Liquid dripped from the rim of the cup, rippling the full cup beneath it. Blinking broth from his eyes, Giyuu accepted the towel Aoi handed him. When his face was dry, Aoi took the towel back and refilled the empty cup. She stepped back to stand with Nezuko once more.

“Again!” 

This time, Giyuu was the winner, holding an empty cup in front of an irked Shinobu. A vein throbbed in her forehead, but she held her tongue, flicking the broth from her eyes. They continued playing, trading wins until they were both thoroughly drenched, no clear winner in sight. 

“I’m out of broth, Shinobu,” Aoi sheepishly held up her empty jug. Only a few droplets slipped out when she turned it upside down.

“That’s okay,” her smile was strained, hair stuck flat to her face. “I think if I get hit with broth one more time I’ll scream.”

“Do you want to do the rest of the training tonight?” Aoi began mopping up the spilled water around them, drying off the floor. Shinobu stood, wringing out her uniform into the empty jug.

“Giyuu, are you up for some tag?” she twisted her haori, water running rivulets through her fingers. Humming, Giyuu shrugged noncommittally. He took off his haori, wringing it out into the jug when she was done. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

Their tag did not go much better.

Giyuu won at first, grabbing Shinobu by her wrist, making her stumble and slip on the floor. She brushed it off, smiling all the while, but a chill ran down Giyuu’s spine at her expression. Now that she was chasing him, Giyuu sprinted as fast as he could around the room, dodging her every step. 

Ducking under her, Giyuu crouched low as Shinobu jumped over him.

“Since when were you this fast?” she called out, landing lightly on her toes. “Is this because of your fight with Upper Moon Three?”

Giyuu shrugged, jumping away from her outstretched fingers. “Nevermind, then. I’ll just have to go even faster.”

As it happened, Shinobu’s idea of ‘going even faster’ was to play dirty. Giyuu tripped, landing heavily on his hands. Shinobu’s foot lodged beneath his own, he heard her laughter in her success. Rolling his eyes over his shoulder, he got back to his feet, brushing off his hands.

“Don’t pout like that,” she ran away from him, reminding him that he was It. “Just because I won-”

“You’re playing dirty,” Giyuu just managed to tap her ankle as she jumped over him. Huffing, she landed lightly on her feet.

“If that’s what you’d like to call it, then sure. I’m playing dirty,” her smile widened as she stared him down. Blanching, Giyuu ran away, keeping one eye trained on her over his shoulder.

They kept playing until the sun began to rise, bouncing around the room at a borderline inhuman pace. When Nezuko had to run back to their room for shelter, Shinobu finally called it off.

“I think you passed,” she was panting, overexertion written over her face. Aoi handed them both towels and a cup of water. Nodding his thanks, Giyuu took them both, downing the water in one go. “You’re free to return to hunting demons whenever you wish.”

Giyuu stumbled back to his room, passing out on his futon the second the lantern clicked off.

***

The next day, Giyuu strapped Nezuko’s box to his back, adjusting his sword in his belt. Nezuko did the same, tightening it so it was secure.

“Next time you come back here, it better not be because you fought an Upper Moon again,” Shinobu was sending them off before she had to leave for her own patrols, sun barely having set in the sky. “I’d rather never do functional training with you ever again, if possible.”

Ignoring her, Giyuu and Nezuko set off with a wave to the Butterfly Estate inhabitants. Zenitsu and Inosuke had left that day, both having completed their training with a clean bill of health. 

Walking slowly though the path away from Shinobu’s estate, all that could be heard was the breeze ruffling leaves above them. It was peaceful in the dusk, when it was still light enough for demons to be afraid to reveal themselves. They walked in silence, admiring the scenery, before a loud meow stopped them in their tracks.

“A cat?” Giyuu stared at it as it stared back at him. Attached to its collar was an odd symbol; a marking of some sort. Nezuko tugged on his sleeve, recognition gleaming in her eyes. “Oh. Is this Tamayo’s cat?”

She nodded, letting him go to extend a careful hand for the cat to sniff. Obliging, it delicately sniffed her hand before rubbing its cheek against her fingers, to Nezuko’s delight.

“We just have to follow it apparently,” Giyuu stepped forward, watching the cat turn around and run a few metres forward, stopping when it saw they hadn’t moved. Pulling him by the hand, Nezuko dragged Giyuu after the cat. It was finally time to meet Tamayo.

Chapter Text

Nezuko jogged towards the cat, stopping every time she got close enough to touch it again, but it would run out of her reach every time. Pulling Giyuu firmly by his hand, she kept up the chase, dragging him directly behind the cat’s path. Every time she increased their pace, the cat matched it. With an exaggerated huff, Nezuko dropped his hand, launching at the cat. The tip of her nail was just barely missing it’s tail, the cat leapt away from her for the final time, disappearing into thin air. In its place stood a young boy, with light hair fading down to dark. Slit pupils met his own. This must be Tamayo’s friend.

Nezuko’s disappointment from missing the cat quickly morphed into excitement at spotting the boy. Launching at him, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck before he could move away.

“Hey! Get off!” hands hovering in the air, he leant his head away but made no move to shove her off. When she relented, Nezuko ruffled his hair, smiling up at him softly. He batted her hand away, but she persisted with her mission despite his actions.  

“Are you Yushiro?” Giyuu tilted his head, inspecting the boy. While he did give off a demon vibe, it was odd. Not as strong as any other demon he’d encountered. It was the closest feeling Giyuu had felt come off a demon to Nezuko he’d ever felt. 

“Why are you so late?” finally free of Nezuko, he ignored Giyuu’s question. Taking it as a yes, Giyuu reached out for Nezuko. His haori shifted when he moved, sword hilt now uncovered. A slight frown creased Yushiro’s forehead, eyes flitting down to his scabbard, but he said nothing.

“There wasn’t a set meeting time?” confused, Giyuu grabbed Nezuko’s hand, removing her temptation of ruffling Yushiro’s hair any further. Relieved, Yushiro fixed his hair, turning tail and stalking off.

“When you saw the cat, you should have been here immediately,” he grumbled, walking directly through a wall. Bemused, Giyuu looked down to Nezuko who did not react, instead walking through the wall and pulling him through with her.

“Yushiro,” a woman’s voice called out, laced with warning. “Don’t leave them on the other side of the wall without explaining what’s going on.”

“Yes, Miss Tamayo!” Yushiro was bowed heavily at the waist, his tone drastically shifting from when he had been speaking with Giyuu. Whirling around, he began to march back over to the wall, but saw them already standing on the other side.

“Nezuko knew what to do,” Giyuu offered, growing uncomfortable the longer their attention was focussed on him. He could see Tamayo was nervous, her eyes flickering down to his sword like Yushiro’s had. It was understandable they’d be uncomfortable in the presence of a pillar, though. Giyuu just hoped that Nezuko’s presence made them feel better in his own.

“I apologise for my rudeness,” Tamayo shook herself out of her daze, walking over to them both. “My name is Tamayo. It is nice to finally meet you in person, Mr Tomioka.”

“Tomioka is fine,” adjusting the box on his shoulders, Giyuu bowed his head to her slightly in greeting. Tamayo gasped sharply, hand reaching for the strap looping over his shoulders, but she faltered before she touched him. Gaze flitting down to his sword again, she pulled her hand back to her chest, tears welling up in her eyes. Blinking heavily, she swallowed and turned her head away.

“I apologise,” Tamayo’s voice was thick, her brows knitted together tightly. “I just hadn’t seen such a stark reminder that Tanjiro is gone in person yet, so I was caught off guard.” 

She sniffled lightly, trying to compose herself. 

“Miss Tamayo-” Yushiro reached out for her, but he was beaten by Nezuko. Pulling her hand out of Giyuu’s again, she looped her arms around Tamayo, one earring pressing on to her neck. Composure seeping out of her, Tamayo tucked her head in the crook of Nezuko’s shoulder, one hand cradling the back of her head. Shaking slightly, she let herself be comforted by the girl for a moment. As she pulled back there was a sad smile adorning her face. Stroking Nezuko’s hair, she accepted a handkerchief from Yushiro, patting her face dry with a delicate hand.

“I didn’t mean to break down,” bowing to Giyuu, Tamayo’s tight shoulders oozed shame. “I’m terribly sorry, you’re my guests, yet here I am, crying before you can even get in the door-”

“It’s fine,” Giyuu shifted the box on his back awkwardly. The discomfort in the air was crushing; he didn’t know how to alleviate it. Should he leave the box outside? “Do you want me to take off my sword?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask that of you!” alarmed, Tamayo shook her head, holding her hands in front of her. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable; we asked you here, we trust you.”

“No we don’t,” Yushiro muttered, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Yushiro,” voice hard, Tamayo didn’t even look over at him. “Any friend of Nezuko’s is a friend of ours. Be welcoming.” 

“Yes, Miss Tamayo!” uncrossing his arms, Yushiro straightened his posture. He radiated joy at her even speaking to him, despite it being scolding. 

“Please, come in,” ushering them inside, Tamayo waited as they both took their shoes off by the door. After a pause, Giyuu placed the box beside them, but kept his sword on his hip. When they settled in another room, Nezuko immediately flopped on the floor, rolling around on the carpet. Baffled, Giyuu stared down at her, watching as she kicked her legs in the air at nothing. Shinobu would probably have told him to stop Nezuko, claiming it to be rude, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He sat on his shins next to her, watching as she batted at a loose string.

“I’m glad to see you healed well,” Tamayo sat across from him, smiling softly over at Nezuko. She passed a roll of bandages over to her, letting the girl bat at them on the floor. “I heard you both fought Upper Moon Three?”

“We did,” grabbing the bandages, Giyuu dangled them above Nezuko’s face, letting her rake at them in midair. She’s just like a cat.  

“Why’s she wearing the demon slayer uniform?” Yushiro pointed over to her, but quickly retracted his hand with a withering glare from Tamayo.

“She was given permission to join by our leader,” Giyuu rolled the bandages toward Yushiro, who shoved them away from him with a disgusted look on his face. It was almost exaggerated, how much he seemed to dislike Nezuko, but Giyuu didn’t think he truly did. 

Yushiro had teared up when he saw Giyuu wearing Tanjiro’s box, too.

“She’s a demon demon slayer?” Tamayo’s eyes were wide, staring down at Nezuko’s clothes. Shaken, she continued. “And she has her own nichirin blade?”

“It’s under her haori,” Giyuu rolled the bandages back up again. Tamayo gestured to him for the roll, so he passed it over, letting her release them in the other direction. Yushiro scoffed at Tamayo’s involvement, but he too even relented when Nezuko sent her new toy in his direction. 

“Is she doing okay? After learning about what happened to poor Tanjiro, I didn’t know what to expect, but she seems to be well under your care,” eyes downcast, she ran her fingers through Nezuko’s hair when she shuffled up to her. “I asked you here to offer housing for Nezuko, should she get in the way of your pillar duties.”

Nezuko launched upright at that, crawling over to where Giyuu sat. Shuffling behind him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, smushing the side of her face onto his own. Tensing, Giyuu braced himself against her added weight, otherwise letting her do as she pleased. Every shake of her head scratched the top of her earring across his cheek, but it went ignored.

“I already asked her if she’d like to stay with someone else,” Giyuu began, wincing at a particularly hard scratch. Nezuko stopped shaking her head, fussing over the mark she’d left. “She said no.”

Ruefully, Tamayo smiled, training her eyes on the floor. Taking a breath so deep it stretched her entire frame, she exhaled softly, nodding at them both. “That’s what she wanted last I offered, too. If you ever need a home for her, no matter how short or long the time, please know we are always happy to take her in.”

“Thank you,” Giyuu tilted his head down in a light bow. This, however, gave Nezuko free access to the tie in his hair, which she promptly pulled loose. Before he could make a noise of protest, she began raking her fingers through, gently tugging any knots loose. Nails lightly scraped against his scalp, making it hard to concentrate. 

“She likes you a lot. It seems Nezuko has found another home in you,” Tamayo noted, smile much more sweet. Warmth bubbled in Giyuu’s gut; unconsciously, he leaned back against Nezuko a little. Tamayo felt almost maternal; it made her house feel like a home. “So, what is it you’d like to ask me?”

“You’re the one making Nezuko’s cure?” he paused, waiting for her confirmation. When Tamayo nodded, he continued. “I wanted to ask if you could make another.”

“You can’t just demand more medicine like she’s a slave,” Yushiro spat, glaring at Giyuu. Taken aback, his head pressed onto Nezuko’s hands. Wrapping them around his forehead, she growled at Yushiro quietly.

“Yushiro, I won’t forgive you if you keep berating him,” Tamayo snapped, frown marring her face. She ignored his apologies. “Who is it for?”

“Another pillar - Sanemi Shinazugawa - was turned,” peeling Nezuko’s hands from his forehead, Giyuu placed them back in his hair. Humming happily, she resumed playing with it. “I haven’t seen him since, but I’d like to get one to him if possible.”

“What are you, Tanjiro reincarnated?” Yushiro muttered to himself, pointedly not looking at Giyuu. Tamayo frowned at him, but his head was turned away so he could not see it. 

“Yushiro, you should be glad there’s a pillar of all people willing to work with demons,” she sighed, turning back to Giyuu. “There’s no chance you have any of his blood, is there? Does he have any family, by chance?”

“A younger brother, I think,” Nezuko tilted his head, so she could get better access to the front of his hair. “Would that be close enough?”

“It’s as good as we can get,” Tamayo turned to Yushiro, whispering something quickly. He got up and ran out of the room. “I’ll give you needles to take his blood, and if possible, the blood of any Upper Moons you may run into. Any demon that’s close to Kibutsuji will work, but the higher their number the better the source. It will help me in my research.”

Giyuu scowled. If only he had’ve known a few weeks ago. Akaza, Upper Moon Three, was likely the closest he was going to get to Muzan. Doubt coursed through his veins at the idea of meeting Akaza, or the others higher than him any time soon. 

“The same cat that led you to Yushiro will appear to take the filled needles from you,” accepting a small bag from the returning Yushiro, she passed it over to Giyuu. He pocketed them, noting that no hair fell over his face when he looked down like it usually did. Eyes straining upwards, Giyuu couldn’t see it at all. Slumping, he sighed. Nezuko’s happy, that’s all that matters.

Sitting in silence for a moment, Giyuu leaned his head back, staring up at Nezuko. She hummed happily, messing with the hair on the sides of his face, her own barely out of her forehead thanks to the little green and black ribbon. A red mark, curling like flames flickered across his eyes, but her forehead remained clean. He sat back up again, Nezuko tugging lightly in protest. Maybe Tamayo knows about Dance of the Fire God?

“Tamayo, how old are you?” Yushiro spluttered, leaning over to berate him.

“How dare you ask a lady’s age?” he reached over, hand outstretched to hit him, but a side glance from Giyuu stopped him in his tracks. Training his eyes on the sword hilt strapped to Giyuu’s waist, Yushiro sat back down, placated. 

“If you hit him, Yushiro,” Tamayo’s voice was low, rumbling in warning from deep in her throat. Without saying a word, Yushiro looked away from the sword, eyes only on Tamayo. “I’m much older than you may think. Why do you ask?”

“Have you heard of the Dance of the Fire God?” Nezuko tilted his head again, gaining access to the other side of his face. “It’s a breathing style, but I’ve never heard of it before, nor seen anyone using it.”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of something by that name,” frowning softly, Tamayo crossed her hands in her lap. “Are you sure it is not a newly developed style?”

“It’s been passed down as a ritual through the Kamado family, but never used as a sword style,” turning his head back to face Tamayo, Nezuko moved to working on the back of his hair. “It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

“Did it have any unusual effects?” Tamayo looked up at Nezuko, smiling lightly. 

“Upper Moon Three wasn’t able to heal as well when we used it, and he said it felt like he was burning. I felt like I was burning, too,” Giyuu raised a hand to his chest, hovering it over his lungs. Shinobu had found no damage, but the way they had burned…

“Could it be a sword style under a different name?” delicately, Tamayo covered her mouth with her fingers. “It sounds familiar. Back in the Sengoku Era, there was a demon slayer who helped me escape from Kibutsuji’s curse. He was the only one I ever saw get that close to killing him… but he faltered for some reason.”

Tamayo’s eyes flicked back to Nezuko, focussing on her intently. “He wore earrings just like Nezuko’s.”

“So the Kamado’s are that man’s descendants?” looking over his shoulder, Giyuu caught sight of Nezuko braiding his hair down his back.

“His wife and unborn child were slaughtered when he was away from home,” Tamayo’s voice was sombre, fists clenching. “I do not believe he had another family. Perhaps he instead taught the Kamado’s his sword style?”

He taught them his sword style, disguised as a dance offering to the gods?

“Who was he?” Perhaps Oyakata would know about the man who nearly killed Muzan.

“His name was Yoriichi Tsugikuni. I’m afraid I don’t know the name of his breath style, however, but I hope that’s enough for you to work from,” she paused, loosening her fists. “Maybe one of the old demon slayer families will know of him?”

Giyuu covered his mouth with his fist. The only old family he knew of was Rengoku’s, but as they’d never been close he hadn’t met them before. Perhaps being a pillar would be enough for them to talk to him?

“I should go get the blood today,” he got to his feet, Nezuko following suit. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

“Not at all,” flippantly, she waved his pleasantries off. “I just wanted to say, my priority will be to curing Nezuko. Your fellow pillar has likely been forced to eat by now, so as he is further along it will likely be harder to turn him back. I will do my best, however. I promise you that, as a thank you for caring for Nezuko.”

That had been more than he hoped for. Nodding, Giyuu followed Tamayo through the home back to the entranceway. He shouldered the box, letting Nezuko use him to help with her balance as she pulled her shoes back on.

“Wait, are you going to leave that in your hair?” Yushiro pointed up to his head, tilting around to get a better look. “It’s certainly… a choice.”

Tamayo hovered behind him, her anger silent but looming. Backing down, Yushiro hastily spluttered, “it looks good!” 

Startled, Giyuu’s hand shot up to his head, feeling the braids Nezuko had left behind. They were big - he could feel bumps popping out of each loop - but she smiled so wide, he couldn’t help but pat her head with a sigh. 

“Nezuko, can you shrink?” curiously, she tilted her head up at him, shrinking anyway. Without explaining himself, he just picked her up and sat her on his shoulders. Nezuko shrieked in delight, clapping wildly. She replaced her hands in his hair, pulling the braids out for him.

“Watch your heads!” Tamayo fretted as they ducked under the doorway, Nezuko clinging to the top of Giyuu’s hair as she bent over. Before they left, she clumsily pet both Tamayo’s and Yushiro’s heads from atop Giyuu’s shoulders, waving before they were fully out of sight. 

“We’re going to go through the town,” climbing carefully through the forest, Giyuu kept one hand on Nezuko’s leg to make sure she was balanced. “You’ll need to be full size for that, and hide your teeth.” 

Ever since Giyuu took her muzzle off, he noticed how much better Nezuko blended in with the public. Of course, they stood out thanks to their swords and obvious uniforms, but people didn’t give as many disapproving side eyes as they once had. 

He almost felt bad for putting it on her in the first place. 

Taking her off his shoulders, Giyuu led Nezuko at an angle out of the forest. He scanned through the trees, finding them to be empty. All that was visible was what was lit by the thin strands of moonlight filtering through the trees. The only demon presence in this forest was Nezuko. 

Ever since she’d been around, Giyuu hadn’t run into as many demons as he used to. 

It was the early hours of the morning, so the town was fairly deserted. People stumbled about; some drunk, others tired. Streets were lit with actual lights, rather than the lanterns they were used to. Storefronts glowed in the night, staining their skin every colour of the rainbow. Nezuko’s eyes gleamed, head darting around at all the sights. She likely hadn’t seen many places like this in her life. Leading her through the streets, Giyuu stopped in front of one familiar store.

Growling bubbled in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since he left the Butterfly Estate, and it’d be a long walk to Himejima’s estate… but Giyuu didn’t know if it would be rude to make Nezuko stop here. 

Poking on his stomach broke him from his thoughts. Nezuko was tapping him with her first knuckle, nail curled in toward her own hand. When she had his attention, she pointed into the store, tilting her head in question.

“You wouldn’t mind if we stopped?” in lieu of an answer, she began pushing him into the store. It was mostly empty - a given, considering the time of night - but there were still a few patrons milling about. The hostess seated them quickly, taking the one order with a confused frown in Nezuko’s direction, but she didn’t ask any questions.

“Can you eat anything?” Giyuu pointed to different things on the menu, but he wasn’t even sure Nezuko could read. Every different option only got a shake of her head, her eyebrows drawing closer and closer together in confusion. Giving up only when his food came, Giyuu noted that he’d been given two sets of chopsticks.

Maybe Nezuko will eat some of this?

As it turned out, she would not. Nothing worked. Giyuu gave her the chopsticks at first, but her nails got in the way of her holding them. Trying to feed her himself only brought about a mess; she’d push them away, or flick her head - and subsequently, hair - onto the chopsticks, spilling the rice on the table. Finally, she accepted one measly grain of rice, but her teeth got in the way of chewing.

And she spat it out.

“Nezuko!” Giyuu whispered, cleaning the table as best he could. The few other customers in the store stared at them judgmentally. “Don’t just spit it out!” 

Sticking her tongue out at him, Nezuko huffed and looked away. She really is just like a cat. 

Paying as quickly as possible, Giyuu left the restaurant, Nezuko in tow. She was pouting, occasionally sticking her tongue out of her mouth in disgust. In Giyuu’s opinion, this was a bit of an overreaction to one grain of rice, but maybe demon taste buds had a stronger unpleasant reaction to human food. 

“I’m sorry I fed you rice,” Giyuu relented, tired of her cold shoulder. Nezuko had kept her face turned away from him the entire walk out of the town - and then some - even to her own detriment. She’d nearly tripped over a tree root sticking out of the ground, just missing falling flat on the ground thanks to Giyuu’s quick reflexes. Enough was enough. “I just wanted to see if we could blend in better, I didn’t think rice would be that offensive to you.”

Looking down at her, Giyuu could see a hint of her pink irises looking up at him from the corner of her eyes. After a few more steps, she ran in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. When he was still, Nezuko gestured for him to bend down, only to flick him right in the middle of his cheek. She’d purposefully avoided the bandage still covering his forehead. Finally satisfied, a wide smile stretched her cheeks tight. 

Rubbing the sore spot on his cheek, Giyuu accepted his ‘punishment’ without a fight. They continued walking in silence, Nezuko thankfully not having any further tripping incidents now that she had finished being mad at him. Himejima’s was quite the distance from Tamayo’s, so by the time they started getting close, it was dawn.

Taking off the box, he set it on the ground. Nezuko strapped her sword onto the side, shrinking as she did so. Climbing inside, she fell asleep before she could shut the door. Giyuu made sure she wouldn’t get caught anywhere by the door, and secured her inside. She deserved a break.

Finally, when the sun was high in the sky, Giyuu had reached Himejima’s estate. He couldn’t see anyone around, but there were two presences nearby. Reaching the roaring waterfall nearby, he saw a boy with an unusual hairstyle struggling to stand beneath it, and Himejima sat at the bank, observing.

Giyuu wasn’t entirely sure how he was observing, but he was focussed, at least. 

“Himejima?” he called out, announcing his presence. “It’s Tomioka.”

“And your demon,” Himejima didn’t turn to face him, rather keeping his face toward the waterfall. The boy standing beneath it had started screaming incoherently, but didn’t move away.

“Is that Genya Shinazugawa?” he went to point, but remembered it was useless when his hand was in midair. “Why is he screaming under the waterfall?”

“The most important thing to the body… the core,” for once, Himejima’s face was miraculously dry. “Genya’s training by having the waterfall beat on him, until he can resist with his core.” 

Giyuu was baffled. Bemused, he looked back and forth between the pillar and Genya, wondering if he should be concerned about the screaming. When Himejima did not react for a long moment, he elected to ignore it.

“Is he your tsuguko?” struggling to tear his eyes away from the scene, Giyuu walked over to him, and sat down on the bank. 

“No,” head bent so low it almost touched his clapped hands, tears started welling up in Himejima’s eyes. “He is unable to use a breath style, so I am not taking him on in that capacity.”

They sat in an awkward silence, Giyuu resorting to picking at his fingers to distract himself. Genya had stopped screaming over the roar of the waterfall, a quick check proved he was still alive, so Giyuu was unconcerned. Pulling skin off the corner of his thumbnail, he nervously bit his lip. Talking to the girls at the Butterfly Estate was easy - he supposed that was the influence Shinobu had on them all - but Himejima was a different story. He wasn’t as forthcoming with his conversation, and despite having known him for years, Giyuu had never once spoken to him like this before. But now he wanted to try.

Maybe Shinobu was right. Nezuko was a good influence on him. Taking a deep breath, Giyuu forced out the words lodged in his throat.

“So why are you training him?”

“You fought Upper Moon Three, I heard?” ignoring his question, Himejima fired back one of his own. Giyuu nodded, silently. After a long moment, he remembered Himejima couldn’t see him nodding, so he quickly verbally affirmed. “I didn’t get the chance to. The demon train had been full of passengers that night - full to the brim, perhaps a sign of overconfidence from the Lower Moon that killed a pillar - that were all vulnerable. They required protection, a guide to return them to a safe place in the night. Shinazugawa and I were prepared to give that to them.”

Himejima took a deep breath, clearing his throat so he could be heard over the waterfall. “When the Upper Moon arrived, a horde of lesser demons were brought along. They were immediately set on all of the passengers. I was able to kill them easily, but there were so many I couldn’t leave to get Shinazugawa back without sacrificing lives. He would have wanted me to make the choice I did, but that’s no comfort to those he left behind.”

Giyuu shuffled, slipping Nezuko’s box off his shoulders. Rotating his joints, he stretched out his back, grateful for the relief.

“That’s why I took on Genya,” this time, Giyuu saw Himejima twitch. He’d noticed Nezuko’s movement. “To atone for letting Shinazugawa be turned. Genya tells me Shinazugawa never wanted him to join us at all, so protecting him from harm is the most I can offer.” 

They sat in silence again, Giyuu unsure of what to say. Taking on Genya seemed noble, but really, was it, when it was done out of guilt? 

A slight tap on wood reminded him of his own misdeeds. Even if that wasn’t why he continued to travel with her now, Giyuu had taken Nezuko on out of guilt of his own. 

He supposed the two of them were similar, in a way.

“What brings you to me, Tomioka?” Himejima had wiped his face dry while Giyuu had been distracted, now the picture of calm.

“I need some of Genya’s blood,” if Himejima was shocked to hear that was his reasoning, he didn’t show it. “I asked the woman who’s researching for Nezuko’s cure if she could make one for Shinazugawa, too. She needs some of his closest relative’s blood.”

“Very well,” the man nodded once, otherwise unmoving. “You may go get him from the waterfall. I will watch over your demon for you.”

Giyuu opened his mouth to protest, but sighed in reluctant acceptance. He was never going to win that battle. Slipping off his haori, he draped it over Nezuko’s box for safe-keeping. Shoes stacked neatly next to his sword, Giyuu waded into the freezing water, shivers running up his legs. Each step was harder than the rest, cold water bogging his clothes down the deeper he walked. 

Even though he was the water pillar, Giyuu was not thrilled at the prospect of standing under a crashing waterfall.

“Genya!” he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the pounding water. Genya looked dazed, faraway look in his eyes. Rhythmic chanting was barely audible over the crashing, but it was a solid indication Genya was still conscious. He hadn’t noticed Giyuu yet, focussed on withstanding the waterfall. 

Giyuu sighed, pushing his damp hair off his face. He really did not want to go into the waterfall. 

Wading closer, Giyuu tried calling out to Genya again, but he still didn’t break his concentration. Nothing worked, not calling his name nor tapping him, and Himejima seemed determined to not help. Genya’s concentration was unwavered. Bracing himself, Giyuu groaned. Trying to pull him free could result in an injury from the water, so there was only one thing left to do.

Standing under the relentless waterfall, Giyuu gasped. Cold, cold, so very cold. The force was brutal, but bearable, thankfully. With all his might, Giyuu took as deep a breath as the waterfall would allow, and pushed Genya out. 

He spluttered, shaking the water free from his eyes. Hacking coughs brought water out from Genya’s mouth, the shock of his concentration being broken causing him to breathe it in. 

“What the fuck?” Genya snarled, looking back over to the waterfall. Giyuu finally walked out, shaking the water out from his hair.

“You weren’t listening to me,” was all he offered, flicking as much water from his skin as possible. Pulling the bandage from his forehead, Giyuu itched the healing cut beneath it. The new skin was beginning to be unbearable. 

“I was training! What did you expect?” pushing himself into a standing position, Genya loomed over Giyuu, trying to look intimidating. Unphased, Giyuu waded out the way he came in, heading toward where he left Nezuko. “Oi! I’m talking to you!”

“Genya, this is Giyuu Tomioka, the water pillar,” Himejima finally spoke up, providing the introduction Giyuu didn’t care to. “He’s here to talk to you about your brother.”

“Oh,” Genya’s voice was much calmer already, initial rage seeping away. “What about him?”

“I need your blood,” Giyuu started unbuttoning the upper half of his uniform, removing the white undershirt. Wringing it out as best he could, he placed it on the grass to dry out before moving on to his uniform. He may be the water pillar, but sitting in drenched clothing was going to be miserable. 

“What the fuck?” Genya was still, staring at him in shock. “What kind of weird ass task is that? How does that relate to Sanemi?”

“The cure,” Giyuu stared at his pants, trying to figure out how to wring them out. Deciding to just squeeze them the best he could, he sat next to Nezuko’s box to dry off. Himejima had wandered off somewhere else, now that the box was back in his possession. 

Genya just stared at him, dumbfounded. His eyebrow twitched as he bit his lip, clearly trying to hold back words.

“The cure to turn Shinazugawa back into a human,” he finally elaborated, taking his hair down. Twisting it, he got it as dry as possible, finger combing it back into a semi-tidy style. Nezuko would probably fix it for him later. The final snap of his tie around hair made him wonder. When had their relationship flipped from mere guardian and child to something more familiar; more familial? Flipping the blue ends over his shoulder, he wiped his hands on the grass.

“So you’re going to send my blood to get tested or something, to try help Sanemi? Why do you care?” Genya’s face softened up, pushing his yellow-tipped hair from his face. Now that it wasn’t contorted in a Shinazugawa-like rage, Giyuu could see deep purple bags staining the hollows of his eyes. His sclera were bloodshot, lips cracked from his teeth worrying them. All the signs pointed to a boy in grieving, but why mourn the not-yet dead?

“You’re the closest thing we have to him, so yes,” Giyuu felt a shiver run up his spine. Cold, so cold. The water had been freezing, any slight movement of the air around his bare torso rippling goosebumps in its wake. His clothes weren’t much better; the only protection against the elements he had was his haori. Wrapping that around his shoulders, Giyuu tried to warm himself up again.

“Would my blood being demonic help?” finally shaking the water from his own hair, Genya dried off his body that was out of the water as best he could. Giyuu’s eyebrows furrowed, frown taking his face over. Demonic blood? Is he suggesting to get turned-

“I can eat demons,” Genya broke his thoughts, but that only deepened the crease between Giyuu’s brows. A hand immediately shot out in front of Nezuko’s box, gaze darting between her place of slumber and the boy before her. Scowling, he shuffled closer to her protectively. “Not for fun, I won’t eat your fucking pet.”

Genya rolled his eyes heavily, crossing his arms over his chest. A sigh shook his frame, exuding annoyance. Nevertheless, Giyuu still pulled Nezuko behind him.

“As long as it’s not you fully turning into a demon, it won’t hurt,” Giyuu watched as he waded out of the water finally, shaking what clung to his legs off. 

“Stick around until night, then,” Genya sat heavily, arms hanging loosely over his bent knees. “We can find a demon for me.”

Only the roar of the waterfall could be heard, both sitting in silence. Giyuu felt his hair soak the back of his haori, making even that cold. Tucking his chin to his chest, he tried to minimise the area the breeze could reach.

“Tomioka, right?” Genya broke the quiet, never taking his eyes off the waterfall. “Himejima said Sanemi hates you. Why are you trying to make a cure for him?”

Subconsciously, Giyuu touched Nezuko’s box behind him. “No one deserves to be stuck as a demon.”

“But why?” Genya’s voice grew louder, as though he were competing with the water itself. “Because you couldn’t kill the fucking demon that took him? Is that it?” 

Giyuu turned to look at him, but found his angry gaze locked on the crashing waves. He said nothing.

“What kind of pillar are you, Tomioka? You couldn’t kill an Upper Moon because you were protecting some worthless demon-”

“She’s not worthless,” Giyuu’s voice was even, but cold. He didn’t compete with the waterfall, letting Genya fight to hear him above it. But Genya was quietened anyway, finally looking at him. “If you don’t want me to make a cure for Shinazugawa, I won’t.”

Genya took a shuddering breath, hunching his shoulders. Despite being taller than Giyuu himself, he was incredibly young. His only relative being turned into a demon must have been weighing on him, but Giyuu didn’t know what to say. If only Nezuko could be out now to talk to him...  

“I… want you to,” Genya scrubbed his face, turning away from Giyuu to hide his wet cheeks. “I want to be able to talk to him again. I just want my brother back.”

Genya picked up a stone, throwing it as hard as he could into the water. It splashed, droplets rippling the surface far away from where the stone had once been. Frozen, Giyuu watched as the outermost ripple pushed the water further up the bank, wetting the previously dry dirt.

“Can you do it?” Genya whispered, looking over at him. “Can you make one? One that’ll work?”

“I have to,” one by one, Giyuu cracked all of the knuckles on his left hand before switching to his right. “I promised Nezuko.”

“I’m going to apologise to him,” Genya stood, sniffling. He wiped his nose on his sleeve as he turned around. 

“What do you need to apologise for?” Giyuu pried, curiosity taking over.

“He hates me more than he hates you,” grabbing his chin, Genya’s face crumpled, but the tears did not fall. “He wants me dead for what I said to him when our mother died.”

Giyuu’s mouth opened, but Genya cut him off before he could attempt comfort.

“Take my human blood now. Tonight, I’ll give you the rest. Then, we will cure Sanemi, and I can finally apologise to him.”

Setting his shoulders, he took a deep breath. One arm extended toward Giyuu, Genya turned his face away. Fumbling for one of the needles, Giyuu stabbed it into his wrist, plucking it out of his skin when it was full. Genya brought the cut to his mouth, sucking it dry.

Before he walked away, he called back over his shoulder, “the rocks are warm.”

Gathering up his things, Giyuu relocated himself and Nezuko over to the huge boulders on the opposite bank. When he stood in front of the largest one, he rested his hand atop its surface. These rocks were the size of those he and Sabito had to cut to pass Urokodaki’s training.

Maybe Sabito would have known what to say to Genya. 

He was convinced Shinazugawa hated him, but from Shinobu’s stories, Giyuu wasn’t so sure. It just didn’t seem right; the Shinazugawa who was so kind to everyone in the Butterfly Estate surely couldn’t hate his only brother. There had to be something more. But he just didn’t know what.

Sitting in front of the rock, Giyuu found Genya was right. Warmth radiated out from it, heating Giyuu down to his bones. With a content sigh, Giyuu closed his eyes, letting the rock - and sun - dry him off.

***

“Oi, wake up,” Genya shook him awake, hovering above him where he rested against the boulder. He’d been more tired than he thought, seeing sparkling stars lighting the sky above him. “You want to get my blood or not?”

Yawning, Giyuu pushed himself up the rock. Arms above his head, he stretched, cracking his neck. Haori slipping off his shoulders, Giyuu remembered his current state of dress. A hand to the shirt resting on Nezuko’s box proved it dry, so he slipped his clothes back on, box following suit.

“Follow me,” leading Giyuu across Himejima’s training grounds, Genya took him to a secluded spot on the mountain. Growling echoed through the trees; a demon. Not strong. “I caught a demon and brought it back here so you could get my demon blood as well.”

Giyuu still didn’t know what the hell that meant. A weak demon like this didn’t have enough of Muzan’s blood to dream of turning a human, so Genya turning himself was off the table. But how else would he make his own blood that of a demon?

Without another word, Genya stepped forward. He pulled out a gun - Giyuu was baffled, mouth agape at the sight - and shot it in the head. While the demon was dazed, he grabbed its arm and took a bite!

“Genya, stop!” reaching out for him, Giyuu was flustered - what the fuck is he doing? - but froze in place when Genya turned to face him. Black sclera was what he saw first; eyes tracking down showed him fangs and claws, too. Blinking rapidly, Giyuu shook his head to try and clear his eyes. There was no way he was seeing this, right?

“Demon blood,” Genya proffered his forearm. “Take it.”

Electing to ignore whatever was going on with Genya for a moment, Giyuu pulled out his sword and cut the neck of the demon behind them. It had just recovered from the bullet, but seemed to be as confused as Giyuu at the chunk bitten out of its arm. 

“What the fuck,” Giyuu whispered to himself, staring at Genya. Digging for a needle, he just took Genya’s blood anyway, pretending that none of this just happened. A meow came from behind him, the cat that led him to Yushiro rubbing its head against his leg. Crouching down, Giyuu placed the demon needle, and the one from earlier in the pouch on the cat’s back. He scratched behind its ear lightly, eliciting a purr.

Finally, an animal that doesn’t hate me.

“I can eat demons,” Genya helpfully offered as the cat disappeared. At the exasperated stare Giyuu shot him, he elaborated. “One day I just discovered I can eat demons by biting a fucking chunk, okay? It temporarily gives me demonic properties. That’s it.”

Giyuu blinked a few times, staring at Genya. Wilting under the weight of his gaze, sweat droplets started forming along his hairline. Nezuko stirred in her box, the door clicking open as she climbed out. Rubbing bleary eyes, she took Giyuu’s hand. He squeezed back softly, acknowledging her presence before wrenching her back behind him.

“I’m not going to eat her?” Genya pouted, trying to look around Giyuu to see Nezuko. Confused as she was, she hid behind his back anyway.

“Nezuko is a friend, not food,” Giyuu pointed his sword at Genya, backing away slowly.

“I’m not going to eat her!” aghast, Genya followed him, but stopped just out of the reach of Giyuu’s sword. “I don’t just go around eating every demon I see!”

Nezuko tugged on his sleeve, poking her head out from behind Giyuu’s back. Keeping one eye trained on Genya, he watched her wave over to the boy.

“...”

Giyuu sheathed his sword, but didn’t let Nezuko near him. 

“I don’t trust you,” glare finally dropped from Genya, he heard the boy sigh in relief. “Let’s go, Nezuko.”

Without another word, he led her away, Genya’s confused protests fading into the quiet night. Rationally, he knew Genya wouldn’t try to eat Nezuko while she was in his care, but the whole situation was just so absurd he didn’t know how to react. 

At the very least, he hoped it’d be of use to Tamayo. 

***

Walking up to his own estate already felt nostalgic, but it hadn’t been that long since the two of them had last been there. Silently, Giyuu set up the training area, bringing out both their real and training swords. Nezuko helped clear the ground, ensuring it was flat.

“Can you help me practice the Dance of the Fire God breaths?” when the area was ready, Giyuu turned to Nezuko. Hand ghosting over his formerly broken ribs, Giyuu breathed in deeply. They way they’d burned when he’d fought was abnormal - it wasn’t the burn that learning Water Breathing had given, like the scorching trail water tore through lungs when underwater - and it wasn’t even thanks to his fever.

It felt like he’d swallowed the sun, trying to breathe burning rays of light instead of the air that carried them - fire and burning felt too weak to describe the feeling, this was just more , hotter, stronger than anything he’d ever felt - trying to keep light itself contained within a body made from water didn’t feel right. Despite how water had hurt in his lungs, the cold smooth path it flowed through his body, guiding his movements was comfortable. The fire god themself reaching burning fingers of gold through his veins hurt; it was foreign, not meant for him to use.

But that wasn’t enough of a deterrent when he’d seen the destruction it could wreak. 

Being taught by a non-verbal demon how to use an ancient breathing style wasn’t what Giyuu expected to ever happen to him, but his life had a funny habit of being unpredictable. Thanking any god there was, he braced his core against another heavy hit from Nezuko - she didn’t seem to be entirely aware of her strength; or maybe she was, she just didn’t care - when he didn’t breathe correctly. Even though her teaching style was, interesting, considering her affinity for just touching him in places that were ‘wrong’ while shaking her head, he was making progress. Breathing didn’t hurt so bad, anymore. Using Dance of the Fire God - she’d deemed him passable enough to practice the actual moves with his sword - wasn’t easy, but it was manageable now, at least. 

Learning the dance at Urokodaki’s had not prepared him for use in battle. He couldn’t let it take him out like it had with Akaza. Tokito wouldn’t be there to save him the next time.

Finally, Giyuu had the breathing technique down. It took him learning how to inhale a different way; rather than the smooth, deep drags of air Water Breathing called for, he now jerked his lungs in a stuttered fashion, choppy, yet harsh breaths filling his lungs. Slashing his sword now made him warm, hot, even feverish, but it didn’t burn agony through the smokey haze of his technique. 

Nezuko’s clapping drew his attention away from his sword. She bounced in place, cheering for him when he finally perfected the style. Panting, Giyuu wiped sweat from his forehead, shielding his flushed face from her with his sleeve. The blush was in part due to just how warm Dance of the Fire God made him now, but being cheered for was… unusual. A little embarrassing, almost. But it was sweet. 

Ripping of fabric caught his attention. 

Nezuko was growing in size, stretching her uniform to its limits. In a panic, Giyuu ran over to her, gesturing to shrink on the way.

“You can’t get too big wearing this, but you can get small,” placing his hands on Nezuko’s shoulders, he helped guide her down to the right size again. “It’ll rip if you get too big.”

A quick once over revealed nothing out of place. She’d likely only popped a few seams, but that wouldn’t be a big deal. 

***

Passing Nezuko a wooden sword, Giyuu stretched out his shoulders. The sun had set behind them, but it was still light out. She seemed to be fond of dusk and dawn, the lightest hours a demon could safely be outside. A tie to her humanity, perhaps.

“We are going to spar today, but only with wooden swords,” grabbing one of his own, Giyuu led Nezuko to the middle of his training area. The past few nights they’d spent working on his breathing, figuring out how to use Dance of the Fire God, and then how to seamlessly swap between that and Water Breathing. Nezuko was happy with his progress, itching to get in some training of her own. 

Absentmindedly scratching the pale scar on his forehead, Giyuu moved to stand across from Nezuko. Sparring with her would be a challenge. Her demon strength was nothing to scoff at - she could snap both swords in two with ease - but she’d been receptive when he told her to be careful. 

Breathing deeply, they ran at each other. Nezuko was fast - Upper Moon fast, how? - but just manageable. With a step to the side, Giyuu ducked under her sword. She was clumsy, still, thrusting the tip of her blade toward his midsection. If he weren’t faster, though, she would’ve done damage. 

Parring some regular blows, Giyuu had to adjust his grip. Nezuko swung, hard, almost knocking his sword clean from his palms. Locking his fingers, he twisted, her blade pressing on his own, spinning her off balance. She stumbled, dropping one hand from her sword to stabilise. Filling his lungs, Giyuu jumped in the air, slashing her wooden blade with his own upside down. Despite her poor grip, Nezuko dug in her claws, pushing it against his own with quick strength. Forcing his down, twisting in midair, the swords creaked, both snapping in two. With a heavy landing, Giyuu inspected the broken wood in his hand. It was snapped almost at the base, large splinters ripped from the upper half. Nezuko’s was similar; it had a little more length from the handle than his own, but their strength together overwhelmed the wood. 

Whining, Nezuko ran over to him, head ducked in shame. A soft smile warmed his face as he patted her head.

“It’s okay, these break all the time in pillar training,” taking the broken handle from her, Giyuu collected the pieces off the ground and threw them neatly into his scrap pile. “Come on, you’re already yawning.”

She was trying to stifle it behind her haori, blinking away the tears that escaped alongside the yawn. It was still the middle of the night, but she fed on sleep, so extra couldn’t hurt. 

Giyuu tucked her into her futon, making sure no light could get through. It never did, they’d made sure the window was as blocked as it could be, but it was compulsive at this point. He couldn’t rest until he’d made sure Nezuko would be safe. Flicking off the lantern that lived in the corner of her room, Giyuu slid the door shut behind him, settling down to have some tea. It was nice to have another presence in the house. 

Closing his eyes, Giyuu rested against the wall, cup sat beside him. Tiredness hadn’t crept up on him yet; the moon was still high in the sky. Everything was quiet, nothing could disturb the peace.

Screaming. A wail, laced with melancholy. Hitched breathing, one - no, two - sobs broke Nezuko’s cries, eerily reminiscent of that day on Mount Natagumo, suspended above the trees…

Scrambling to his feet, Giyuu ran through his estate toward Nezuko’s room, spilt tea forgotten on the floor. Every step made the screams louder, guttural things, broken only by bubbling wet sounds deep in her throat. He couldn’t tell if it was her voice tearing her own throat or tears.

Ripping the door open, Giyuu found her, writhing on the floor. She’d become entangled in her futon, the top wrapped around her neck like a vice, squeezing with every thrash. Reddened skin betrayed the lack of air - tighter, tighter the blanket pulled - wheezes cutting the ends of her cries short. Nezuko hiccupped, eyes wrenched closed, lost in the depths of her nightmare. 

Knees landing heavily on the floor, Giyuu slid over to her, pulling the blanket off as gently as he could. It’d tangled through her hair, locking her neck on an awful angle, firm against her back. As soon as it was free she coughed, deep, heavy coughs that shook her entire body to the core. Frantic, he shook her by her shoulders, trying anything to wake her up.

“Nezuko, wake up!”  

Growling, from the bottom of her throat. Wetness dripped from above him, splashing on his face. A warm droplet rolled down the side of Giyuu’s cheek, a stinging burning from its origin. His back was firm against the floor, Nezuko’s nails digging into the wood beside his head. Baring her fangs at him revealed the source of the droplets - she was drooling, eyes transfixed on the cut on his cheek. Pink irises slit in half. Growling, snarling. 

Nezuko wasn’t here right now.

His hands flew to her wrists. Gripping as tight as he could - without hurting her, even though she would heal Giyuu couldn’t bring himself to hear her cry, not because of him, not again - he flipped Nezuko over, holding her wrists by her head as he pinned her legs with his own. Snapping her teeth up at him, Giyuu only just managed to get out of her range. Nails digging into his wrists, he kept holding on, he had to, don’t let go. She tried to force him off, a well placed knee to the side of his own nearly toppled him to the floor, but he regained control. 

“Nezuko, please wake up!” desperation laced his voice, but it didn’t work, nothing’s working, she won’t listen, if only Tanjiro were here instead!

If only they could’ve swapped places that day, then things would be different. But they couldn’t. 

Giyuu would just have to try.

Hovering above her, Giyuu gritted his teeth. What do I say, Shinobu would be more use than me, anyone would be more use than me-

The fight drained out of Nezuko.

Eyes widening, Giyuu searched her face, concerned. She was sniffling, eyebrows knitted together in her pain, but she wasn’t snapping at him anymore. Nezuko’s eyes were back to normal - albeit full of tears - demon slits morphed back into rounded pupils. Her hands were loose against the ground, nails no longer digging in to his wrist. A red droplet of blood stood out on her flushed cheek, not her own, Giyuu had been careful that she remained unharmed, so it had to be his. 

Letting go of her wrists, Giyuu sat beside her. She sniffed again, barely able to keep the tears back, but she did so anyway. One shaky hand hovered by his cheek - the cut stung, but only barely, he’d had worse - nails tinged with his own blood. Millimetres away from the broken skin, Nezuko froze. Bringing her hands to her face, she saw the blood coating them, Giyuu’s blood. Horrified, she scrambled to the furthest wall away from him, staring at her hands like they were diseased.

Perhaps to her, they were.

As Nezuko shook, tears finally spilling over her cheeks, Giyuu wondered. How did Nezuko feel, being a demon? Had anyone ever asked?

Clenching his fists, he watched her cry. Everything in him wanted to go over there, comfort her, do something, but he didn’t know what. She’d wanted to get away from him, clearly she didn’t want his help-

Crying, sobbing, full on heaving. Nezuko was almost screaming, tearing at her own hands. Blood ran in rivulets down her wrists, seeping into the cracks in the floor. Beads of red dribbled down her chin, fangs buried into the skin of her lip. As much as it pained her, she raked her nails deeper into her skin. A flash of white - was that bone? - was all it took for Giyuu to throw respect out the window. Holding her hands apart, Giyuu wrapped Nezuko in his arms as tight as he could, trying to still her body through the wracking sobs. Her arms were pinned beneath his own, unable to continue raking without catching him in the crossfire.

He’d gotten complacent.

Shushing her, Giyuu stroked a hand through her hair. Whispered pleasantries of “it’s okay, it was just a nightmare” filled the room, her sobs subsiding into quiet waves of tears. Oh, how Giyuu wished she could talk. Maybe if she could, maybe then he’d know what to say. For now, this was all he had to offer.

Of course she wasn’t over Tanjiro. He hadn’t kept track of time, maybe it had been a month? Less? More? It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was it hadn’t been long enough. He couldn’t expect her to be fine, not yet. Just because things had been good, just because she’d stopped crying just a few days in didn’t mean she was okay. Will she even be okay, ever again?  

Nezuko’s breathing calmed, her grip on his uniform loosened. Head tucked into his neck, she sniffled one final time, pulling back just long enough to dry her face before hiding away again. One hand firm against the back of her head, Giyuu gently tilted his to rest atop hers.

Giyuu couldn’t bring Tanjiro back, but maybe a token would serve as enough of a comfort for her. 

“Come on,” gently, Giyuu pushed Nezuko off him, standing up. Offering a hand, she pulled herself up, wrapped her arms around his own. This is fine, Giyuu thought, peeking out of the window to see the moon still high in the sky. There’s still enough time in the night.

Tugging him through the halls of his estate, Nezuko sat him down in the dining area. Even though she was now silent, tears still slipped past her eyes. A shaking, gentle hand touched his cheek, just above the scratch she’d ripped into it.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” a lie. It stung. Demon claws ripped flesh in just the right way - they were able to dig in deep, like a cat, but when they skimmed the surface skin was torn wide open. Nezuko had clearly held herself back, even in her confusion. The scratch wasn’t deep. She was unsatisfied with his lie, eyes flitting down to the holes she’d punctured in his wrists. 

Before she could tear through his house in search of bandages, Giyuu grabbed them for her. Using his teeth, he tied messy bandages around his wrists, tucking them beneath his sleeves. Nezuko took a scrap of newly wettened fabric, wiping the blood off his cheek. Discarding it on the floor, face full of disdain, she glared at his cheek, trying to figure out how to cover it.

“It doesn’t need a bandage, Nezuko, it’s not deep,” he grabbed her hand, stopping her rifling through the medicine box. Frowning, she moved towards it again, but with a shake of his head she relented. “I have an idea for what we can do tonight.” 

Outside, Giyuu told Nezuko the things they would need. It was simple: a flower, or something similar of her choosing, things to dig with, and some tree seeds. When they’d gathered them - she’d chosen a red spider lily, Giyuu wasn’t entirely sure where it came from - he took her to an empty spot at the back of his estate and laid the items on the ground.

“I know there wasn’t anything left of Tanjiro for you to bury,” he began, trying to be gentle. Shinobu had said he was the last person she wanted delivering sensitive news, but he was the only option. “So, you can bury this flower here as a token of him.” 

Nezuko’s eyes widened, cradling the flower close to her chest. She sobbed, painful, sorrowful wails from the bottom of her soul. Her cries were so wrought with agony it brought tears to Giyuu’s own eyes. He’d never gotten to bury Tsutako, nor Sabito. The feeling of misery encasing a hollow nothingness. Each sob that came from her stabbed Giyuu, deeper and deeper. A lone tear rolled down his own cheek; salt stinging the cut she’d split.

It was fitting, Giyuu thought, that his physical pain was due to her grief. He didn’t mind - he’d never mind - it was what he deserved.

Finally, he climbed to his feet, beginning to disrupt the soil to dig a little hole. Nezuko, seeing what he was doing, helped him. Having a task seemed to be somewhat of a distraction. Giyuu was just grateful it was working.

Quickly, with the two of them working together, they dug a deep enough hole for the flower to be fully enclosed. Kneeling back beside it, Giyuu was about to gesture for her to place the flower inside, but he paused seeing her adjust the bow in her hair. It had always been too long, too wide, to wear as she did. She pulled it out, setting it gently on the ground. With one sharpened nail, Nezuko cut the scrap in half, passing one piece over to Giyuu for safekeeping. The remaining half she then tied around the stem of the flower, before placing it as delicately as she possibly could in the hole. 

Sniffling all the while, Nezuko started pushing dirt over the flower, weighing its bright red petals down. Slowly, she filled it in, the green from the fabric disappearing into the ground. Just before all the dirt was replaced, Giyuu sprinkled the seeds they’d collected on the ground, covering them over with the last disturbed soil.

“Hopefully, one of those will become a tree, a living remnant of him for you,” Giyuu pulled the hair back off Nezuko’s face, tying the smaller scrap back around it. It looked better, now. 

Launching at him, Nezuko buried her wet face in the crook of Giyuu’s neck. Her shoulders shook, breath hitching, but she wasn’t crying as heavily anymore.

“If you ever feel like you did today, with the nightmare,” Giyuu wrapped his arm around her back, rubbing his hand up and down gently. “Then you can come out here. Tanjiro will be here for you to talk to.”

He knew she couldn’t talk, but that didn’t matter. Tanjiro wasn’t even physically here, it was a loose comfort at best, a flimsy token. All that mattered was Nezuko felt like she had a place to call home. 

If that home was going to be him, then so be it. 

They sat there, Giyuu watching the moon complete its arc in the starlit sky, Nezuko crying until she couldn’t any more. He could hear stuttered noises, resembling broken words. Tilting his ear toward her, Giyuu tried to piece the sounds to any words he recognised. Between hitched breaths and thick sniffles, it was hard, but he could’ve sworn he heard the beginning of a quiet ‘big brother’.

Giyuu pulled Nezuko as tight as he could. When Tsutako had died, he’d let loneliness consume him - she was all he’d had, he thought he could handle being alone. Alone just meant one less person, he’d stayed by himself when Tsutako had to meet with her fiance’s family anyway and he had been fine! But it wasn’t the same. Whenever she’d left, there had been promises of return. He’d be alone, but he wasn’t lonely. Until he was. 

Giyuu had been drowning in his own sorrow, all this time. As loath as he was to admit it, having Nezuko around felt like a breath of air, after so many years of suffocating. It’s disgusting, Giyuu thought, feeling grateful for the companionship of a girl who’s family is gone.

He could only hope having him around was healing for her, too.

Staying outside as long as he dared, Giyuu let Nezuko sleep her pain away on his shoulder. It was only when the sun was minutes away from breaking the horizon that he gathered her up, bringing her to her room. Tucking Nezuko in like a child, Giyuu checked her window was covered. Just as he was about to leave for the night, a hand shot out, clasping around his ankle. Nezuko pulled him back into the room. Getting the hint, Giyuu settled himself on the floor next to her, letting Nezuko use him as a pillow to comfort her past her dreams.

***

Only a few hours later, Giyuu woke back up. The sun was high in the sky - he finally got to see how well Nezuko’s window cover held up in the daylight - beating down hard. Absentmindedly, he scratched the cut on his cheek, hissing when a sharp sting reminded him of its presence. It was warm, too warm, and itchier than it had any right to be. Rolling his eyes, Giyuu sighed. Shinobu was going to rip him a new one, but he’d have to treat it before Nezuko woke up again. She was the only one he could trust to keep this a secret.

Gathering their things, Giyuu woke her up just long enough to get her shoes on and into the box. She fell asleep again almost instantly, tucked into a little ball.

Walking up to the Butterfly Estate again made Giyuu apprehensive. He really did not want to deal with Shinobu chewing him out, but if Nezuko saw his cut was getting infected, she could spiral into a breakdown again. He’d barely managed to calm her down that time, but who knew if he could do it again.

“Why are you back already?” Shinobu leant out of the window, calling over to him. “We literally just sent you off. You don’t actually live here, you know?”

“Yes, I know,” Giyuu rolled his eyes, coming in anyway. She opened the door to her office for him without complaint. “Last I checked, this was still a medical centre for demon slayers.”

“Hmm, but do you count?” Shinobu tilted her head to the side, eyes wide with childlike curiosity. “I have the right to refuse any patient.”

Giyuu just glared, standing awkwardly in the middle of her room. It felt like she was teasing him, but he didn’t want to impose if she didn’t actually want him there.

“Why are you hovering like that, sit down. You’re already here,” waving at the stool in front of her own, Shinobu called him over. “So, what’s the issue?”

“Nezuko had a nightmare, and before she regained her senses she scratched me. It’s getting infected,” Giyuu pointed at his cheek, sleeve pulling up to reveal his poorly bandaged wrists. Silently, Shinobu took one of his hands into her own, unwrapping the bandage to see the puncture wounds.

“Giyuu, you can’t tell anyone about this,” playful lilt dropped, she stared up at him. “If the other pillars found out-”

“That’s why I came to you,” taking his wrist back, he readjusted his sleeve back over the marks. She turned to her desk, writing something in the notebook sat atop it.

“Go see Aoi for a moment or something, I’ll put one together for you,” clapping her hands, Shinobu shooed him out of her office. “I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”

Giyuu walked through the halls of the Butterfly Estate aimlessly, trying to pass the time until Shinobu called him back. It was quiet, everyone was tending to their patients during the day, so there was no chatter like during the night. Finally, in one of the furthest rooms he found Aoi and Kanao, wrestling with a sheet.

“Kanao! Drop your corner!” Aoi called out to her, trapped beneath the fabric. “And help me out!”

With a squeak, Kanao did as she was told, freeing Aoi from death by sheet. Red faced, Aoi panted, hands on her knees.

“Oh, Tomioka, you’re back already?” she noticed him loitering by the door, waving him in. “You’re tall, can you help us with the sheets?” 

With a shrug, he nodded, picking up Kanao’s discarded corners. When it was finally short enough to her to manage on her own, he then helped Kanao with hers. 

“Thank you, Tomioka!” Aoi nodded to him, Kanao bowing her head slightly. She took the piles of sheets from Aoi, running off to put them away. “Do you need anything?”

“Shinobu told me to come see you while she made an ointment,” he scratched the cut on his cheek again. Aoi pulled his hand away, frowning.

“If you’d stop touching it, then maybe it wouldn’t be infected.”

“Do you need help with anything else?” he ignored her comment, but kept his hand away from the cut anyway. 

“No, this is the least I can do to help everyone,” Aoi turned away from him, busying herself with washing a towel. “I’m too much of a coward to do anything else.”

“Why?” Giyuu passed her another towel to wash when she’d finished the last.

“I survived my Selection out of pure luck,” she muttered under her breath, scrubbing the dirt out with increased vigour. “I’m not like the rest of you.”

“I only survived by luck as well,” taking the now-pristine towel from her, Giyuu wrung it out himself. “I didn’t kill a single demon in my own Selection.”

“But you’re a pillar,” she took a new towel, cleaning much less aggressively. “It’s different.”

“How is it different?” they’d established a system, now, where he wrung them out for her. Aoi was faster at the actual washing, anyway. “I still didn’t pass with my own strength.”

“But you had the strength to do so anyway,” she passed him the final towel, taking the basket of wet laundry from him when it was wrung dry. “I don’t.”

“Would Shinobu have let you take the Selection if she thought you didn’t have the strength to survive it?” he followed her, trying to take hold of the basket despite her protests. Aoi tugged it back from him with a huff, carrying it herself.

“Probably not,” she admitted, pinning the first towel up to dry. “But I don’t feel like I’m strong enough to protect the people I love.”

“Giyuu, your ointment’s ready,” Shinobu called from the doorway, waving a jar in her hand. Nodding over to her, he went to leave, but turned back to Aoi one last time.

“I think that if you needed to, you’d be more than capable of protecting the people here,” Giyuu left her there, shellshocked by the laundry. She snapped out of it, waving him goodbye as she brought her basket back inside. 

“What were you talking to her about?” Shinobu singsonged, leading Giyuu back to her office. Shoving him inside, he sat on the same stool he’d been on before. “She looked surprised.”

“Nothing important,” she sat across from him, unravelling the bandages on his wrists. Shinobu hummed, smearing some of her ointment across the punctures before replacing the wrappings.

“Oh well, I just thought Aoi might like to hear from someone else who has woes about their Final Selection is all,” she smirked to herself, disinfecting the cut on his cheek. Gritting his teeth, Giyuu hissed at the sting.

“You orchestrated that?” she giggled, putting one finger up to her lips to quiet herself. Finally, she put some of her ointment on it, passing the jar over to him.

“Put some more on it once a day until it’s healed,” turning back to her desk, Shinobu wrote something down in her notebook. “You can leave now. I’m going on a mission, so I’ll see you.”

Without a goodbye, Giyuu left her office, shutting the door behind him. He heard her jump out of the window, disappearing into the trees around her estate. Heading toward the exit himself, Giyuu was about to leave - maybe go back to his own estate - but a set of little feet running towards him stopped him in his tracks.

“Tomioka!” Sumi pulled on Giyuu’s sleeve, tugging him in the opposite direction with all her strength. “A strange man is trying to kidnap Naho!” 

Of course this happens just as Shinobu leaves.

Giyuu turned around, letting Sumi pull him out of the building. 

Chapter Text

“Kanao!” Giyuu could hear Aoi yell over the sound of crying. Sumi gripped more harshly on his sleeve, increasing her pace. 

“Kanao! Kanao!” Aoi sounded panicked, frantically calling out to her friend. Crying, Sumi started yelling from where they ran, just by the entrance to the estate.

“Don’t be such a bore,” a deep voice scolded someone, disdain evident in his tone. “You got orders earlier, didn’t you?” 

There was a pause in conversation as Sumi left Giyuu to pull on his shoes that were waiting by the doors, running outside. Faintly, he could hear something grinding against the stones that paved the ground.

“Say something, you stuck up pig!” yelling now, the man’s familiar voice was irate. Childish screaming - probably Kiyo and Sumi, now that she’d left Giyuu - filled the air, along with an order to ‘charge’.

“Kanao’s not a pig!” he couldn’t tell which of the little girls scolded the man, but they were very displeased.

Walking outside, Giyuu was confronted by the sight of Uzui covered in screaming Butterfly Estate girls. He held Aoi over his shoulder and Naho under his arm, but Sumi had attached herself to his leg and Kiyo his head. 

“Girls! Knock it off,” Uzui tried to shake them off, but they did not budge. Is this the kidnapper Sumi was referring to…?

“Tomioka!” Aoi finally noticed him standing there dumbfounded, unmoving. She reached out to him with the hand that wasn’t held by Kanao’s, dangling precariously over Uzui’s shoulder.

“Help us! Kidnapper!” Kiyo was crying atop Uzui’s head, clinging on for dear life. 

“Why are you taking them?” Giyuu finally shook himself from his shock, walking over to Aoi’s outstretched hand. Uzui violently twisted his head, dislodging Kiyo. Quickly, Giyuu caught her in midair, setting her back on her feet.

“I need Corps girls for a mission,” shaking his leg, he kicked off Sumi, who ran to stand beside Giyuu. Kanao was finally removed, joining the rest of them. “They’re not tsuguko, so I don’t need Kocho’s permission.”

“Naho isn’t a Corps member! She’s not wearing a uniform, is she?” fisting her hands, Kiyo cried over to Uzui. Sumi nodded her head in agreement. 

“Don’t need her then,” Uzui threw Naho on the ground, keeping Aoi firmly over his shoulder. “This one doesn’t look useful, but she’s basically a Corps member, so I’m taking her.”

Giyuu could just see the side of Aoi’s face from over Uzui’s shoulder. She’d broken into cold sweats, gnawing on her bottom lip in distress. Only moments ago she had confessed her worries and fears over being taken on a mission. She wasn’t ready, Giyuu knew she wasn’t ready. But would Uzui be convinced? Sighing, Giyuu walked over to the two, reaching out for Aoi.

“Don’t be tepid, Tomioka,” Uzui jumped away to just out of reach, Aoi bouncing helplessly. “You’re not Kocho, I don’t need your permission.”

“Just because she’s a Corps member doesn’t mean she’s ready for a pillar mission,” Giyuu shuffled the box on his shoulders, readjusting the straps. “Are you trying to take Aoi now that Shinobu isn’t here? She will be mad, even if Aoi isn’t her tsuguko.”

“So what if I am! What she doesn’t know can’t hurt me!” Uzui snapped, spittle flying between his teeth. Gingerly, Giyuu took a large step back to exit the splash zone.

“We will tell on you to her!” Kiyo huffed, Sumi and Naho nodding in agreement either side of her.

“You’re just a pervert!” Sumi cried, thick tears bubbling down her cheeks. Naho wrapped one arm around her, crying just as loudly.

“Huh? You talking to me?” Uzui growled, eye twitching in agitation. “I’m a pillar, you ass!”

“Don’t talk to them like that,” Giyuu went to take a step forward, but remembering the splash zone, retracted his foot. “They’re kids.”

“And? Why should I care?” rolling his eyes, Giyuu looked away. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! You’re just lukewarm, Tomioka; boring. Just a pillar who almost died protecting a demon.”

Just a pillar who almost died protecting a demon?

“Let go of Aoi!” Zenitsu came running up the path leading to the Butterfly Estate, growling all the while. “Even if you are a muscle-bound monster, I won’t retreat!”

“I’d recommend retreating a little,” Giyuu leant around Uzui, seeing Zenitsu way too close. “You’re in the splash zone.”

“Shut up about the splash zone!” raging, Uzui whirled around, spitting all the while. Zenitsu, wiping his face dry, took a hearty step back, disgusted. “The one time Tokito decides to talk, it’s at my expense!”

“It’s true though,” under his breath, Zenitsu muttered. “Still! I won’t retreat!”

“What’s going on?” Inosuke ran up from the other direction, hands gripping both sword hilts in preparation. “Are we fighting the old guy?”

“I’m not old!” eye twitching more aggressively, Uzui stared Inosuke down. “Whatever. Tomioka, if you come instead, then I’ll let her go.”

“I’m not tired! I’ll go too,” Inosuke cackled, brandishing his swords wildly. Nodding in agreement, Zenitsu moved to stand next to him. With a groan, Giyuu stood with them in defeat.

“Fine. You two can come too,” rolling his eyes, Uzui dropped Aoi finally. She scrambled to her feet, clutching onto Kanao’s outstretched hands. The rest of the girls grabbed on to her wherever they could, wrapping both Aoi and Kanao into a group hug.

Shooting them a wave, Giyuu followed Uzui out of the Butterfly Estate grounds. They all waved back, sniffling and wiping their eyes dry.

“Maybe this will be a good opportunity for you to prove to me that I should accept you keeping Nezuko Kamado alive,” Uzui threw over his shoulder, keeping his gaze ahead. “I could use her in this mission, isn’t she a Corps member now too?”

“No, you said you’re using us, not Nezu!” puffing his chest, Zenitsu stood up to Uzui. He threw an arm in front of Giyuu, but it was clearly aimed at Nezuko. Under the weight of his glare, Zenitsu withered a bit, but did not stand down. After a sigh, Uzui let up.

“Fine, I guess Tomioka is pretty enough on his own,” flippantly, Uzui waved them off. Pretty enough…? 

“So, where are we going?” Inosuke put his swords back away, but kept his hands casually resting on them. 

“The flashiest place in Japan, steeped in lust and avarice,” Uzui’s voice had a sinister joy to it, written all over his face in a snide grin when he turned to face them. “It’s an entertainment district where demons dwell.”

Entertainment district was the polite term for a red light district, an adult entertainment sphere. All of the debauchery was under the cover of moonlight; during the day, the establishments were no more than tea houses. It made sense for a demon to be lurking there, especially if Uzui was the one investigating. Whatever was there was going to be strong. Giyuu had never been to a red light district - never saw any reason to by the time he was on his own - so he didn’t know what to expect.

“You wanted to take children into the red light district?” Giyuu frowned, imagining Aoi, let alone Naho in that situation. 

Shinobu was going to be fuming when she found out. 

“Wait. You want to put Nezuko into the red light district?”

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to them,” rolling his eyes again, Uzui waved Giyuu on, turning to address Zenitsu and Inosuke. “You two! I am God! You are trash! Hammer that deep into your empty skulls! If I tell you to become a dog, you will become a dog! Do you understand me?” 

During his speech, Uzui had been waving his hands between the two boys’ faces, knocking his knuckles on their heads for emphasis. “Got it? I’ll only say it one more time. I am God!”

Zenitsu was both baffled and disgusted, disgust winning out in the end. Inosuke was hard to get a read on through his mask, but he did seem to be processing what Uzui had said. Confusion was all that Giyuu felt; was this how Uzui treated non-pillars?

“What?” Giyuu couldn’t keep his mouth shut, confused silence deafening them all.

“Thank you for asking, Tomioka!” Uzui crossed his arms across his chest, smug smirk on his face. Zenitsu’s disgust grew to immeasurable levels.

“He literally did not ask,” he muttered under his breath, scowling. It earned him a glare from Uzui, but thankfully no complaints. 

“I am the God who rules over flamboyance. The God of festivities!” cupping his chin, he finished his matter-of-fact statement. Zenitsu clapped his hands, resting his forehead against the tips of his fingers. 

“I am the King of the mountain. Nice to meet you, God of festivities,” Inosuke rested his hands on his hips, sounding very pleased with himself. 

Giyuu was beginning to regret agreeing to come along on this mission. 

“What are you talking about. You’re just disgusting,” disgusted sneer distorting his face, Uzui glared down at an indignant Inosuke. They stared at each other for as long as it was not awkward, human eyes into boar. Giyuu rolled his eyes, Zenitsu muttering complaints to himself. Finally, Uzui broke their glares, looking into the distance. “The Wisteria Estate is on the way. We will get ready there.”

He ran off into the distance, leaving the three of them behind. With a sigh, Giyuu prepared to run after him, but Zenitsu and Inosuke’s confused yells made him slow down. They wouldn’t be able to keep up with both pillars moving that fast.  

“Tomioka, who is that actually?” when he’d calmed down, Zenitsu jogged over to catch up with him. “I know he’s no God.”

“Tengen Uzui, sound pillar,” hastening his pace, Giyuu ran as fast as the younger boys could maintain. “The Wisteria Estate isn’t far from here. Make sure to keep up.”

They made good time. Surprisingly, Zenitsu and Inosuke were able to keep up pretty well - of course, not to a pillar’s true speed, but not slow enough to make Giyuu think he was walking - so they arrived not long after Uzui. He was speaking to the residents with exaggerated movements, pointing violently to the trio standing behind him. 

Giyuu did not like how this day was turning out. 

They were all led inside, the residents giving them steaming plates of food before darting off to do other tasks. Zenitsu took his and ran, Inosuke practically inhaling the rest of the food available before trying to fight Zenitsu over his.

“When we infiltrate the red light district, our first task is to look for my wives,” Uzui scratched the back of his head, looking pensive. “I’ll be looking around for other information on the demon as well.”

“Did he just say wives, as in plural, as in more than one wife, as in he’s married to multiple girls?” Zenitsu’s voice trembled, before he snapped, screaming. “This is unbelievable! How am I meant to believe a weird ass person like you has multiple girls willing to marry him? There’s not a chance!” 

“You damn fool!” Uzui, incapable of resisting stooping to Zenitsu’s level, matched his volume. Warily, Giyuu scooted back. “My wives infiltrated the district in order to collect information on the demon! Our regular contact was cut off, so now I’m going too!” 

“That’s all in your head,” Zenitsu shook his own in disbelief, laughing to himself. Enraged, Uzui threw a stack of letters at him, hitting him in the nose. 

“These are the letters they sent me by crow!” groaning, Zenitsu crawled out from beneath the stack of papers, rubbing his head. “My wives are top of the line female ninja, kunoichi. We believed that the red light district was an ideal place to lurk, but when I first visited as a customer, I found no trace of demons. So, we went a bit deeper than mere customers. We narrowed the number of suspicious stores down to the three stores my wives are in,” Uzui held up a finger, raising one for each store - and wife - he listed. “Suma in the Tokito house, Makio in the Ogimoto house, and Hinatsuru in the Kyougoku house.”

“I am not infiltrating as a prostitute,” Giyuu adamantly stated, glare hard. Is that what he meant by pretty enough?

“I had a back up plan for you,” Uzui waved him off - again, it seemed that was an unfortunate habit of his - addressing all of them at once. “Besides, I couldn’t put makeup over that cut on your face. You two, however, will be. The third store Tomioka and I will watch over personally, so all you two need to do is look for my wives and gather intel.”

“So you want us to infiltrate as prostitutes?” gesturing to Inosuke, Zenitsu looked disgusted. “How the hell are we going to pretend to be girls?”

A quiet knock resounded on the door before it slid open, the Wisteria Estate residents kneeling outside. 

“We have the items you requested,” they pushed a box inside the room before bowing deeply, leaving them to it. 

Uzui passed around kimonos to everyone, Giyuu’s - thankfully - being a dark blue men’s kimono. Zenitsu and Inosuke weren’t so lucky, the former having a feminine outfit patterned like his haori, the latter dressed in a solid colour. Sitting down in front of each of the younger boys, Uzui crassly decorated their faces with makeup, in a poor attempt to make them look female.

“Just take your hair down and look plain, that should be enough,” he barely spared Giyuu a glance, trying not to laugh at the havoc he had wreaked on their faces. Zenitsu was twitching in anger, barely able to sit still when his hair was pulled into two ribbon-adorned pigtails. It was a shame it was daylight still, Nezuko would have loved to do their hair for them. 

Forcing Inosuke into wearing clothing was the biggest challenge of the day, but when Uzui had finally tied his obi they were ready to go.

“The flower district we are going to is Yoshiwara,” Uzui had taken off his own makeup, wearing a plain kimono with his hair down. “Inosuke, you suck at the falsetto, so remember not to talk. They’ll figure out you’re a boy straight away.”

He grumbled, but acquiesced, shutting his mouth. Uzui led them to a shady alcove at the outer edge of the district, bright city lights illuminating the dark night. A woman stuck her head out of the door, enraged features softening when she caught sight of Uzui.

“Tengen, darling, it’s been so long!” reaching over to him, she wrapped Uzui in a hug, squeezing tight. “Need me to hold onto a few things for ya?”

“If you could, Mrs Fukuda,” with a cheery nod, she extended her arms to grab whatever he passed over. “Uniforms, swords, and this box if you could.”

She took everything they passed over without complaint, but Giyuu hesitated before giving up Nezuko. This woman felt genuine, and Uzui trusted her, but he didn’t want to leave her behind. 

“You’ll stand out carrying that,” Fukuda clapped her hands, reaching out to take it from him. “Give it here.”

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the top of the box once. Hopefully Nezuko understands.  

“Damn, boy, what do you have in here?” she slipped the straps over her shoulders, adjusting to the additional weight. “It’s as heavy as a child! Tengen, your little mice won’t be able to carry this!”

“He can come back and get it himself, it’s no issue,” bowing to her, Uzui thanked Fukuda graciously before leading all of them away. “The mice are my familiars. If you are in danger and need your swords back, call for them and they’ll bring it to you.”

“Mice? Are you insane?” Zenitsu balked, curling his upper lip. “Mice can’t carry swords.”

“Mine can, so shut up!” Uzui grabbed Zenitsu by the collar of his kimono, dragging him into Yoshiwara proper. He neglected offering any further explanation, instead leading them deep into the town.

The streets bustled with life. Men stumbled into the various establishments that lined the paths, women batting their eyes as their hostesses guided them inside. Groups of people stood to either side, looking them up and down, whispering between themselves.

Giyuu was uncomfortable with the attention. 

Uzui had insisted they stay quiet as to not raise undue suspicion, so he had nothing to distract himself with. Every way he turned his head offered someone new staring them down; young girls with ornate pins in their hair waved their fingers at him, trying to entice him over. Older women and men looked Zenitsu and Inosuke up and down, but none approached after catching Uzui’s glare. Giyuu assumed they weren’t from the right houses; he couldn’t blame them for being scared off. 

“Hey, there’s a bunch of people gathering over there!” Inosuke’s volume tapered off at the seething glare Uzui shot him. A man stared at Inosuke in shock, whispering to the woman who was with him. 

“She just has a very masculine voice, I think it is a condition,” Uzui smiled at the couple, bowing his head lightly before ushering everyone away. “I told you to shut up.”

Inosuke just rolled his eyes, easily distracted again by the crowd. Pushing their way through, Giyuu couldn’t decipher the mutterings of the crowd.

“Oh, they’re saying it’s an oiran parade,” Uzui took them to the very side where they could catch a glimpse.

“You heard them?” Giyuu finally spoke, confused. He hadn’t been able to hear a thing. “Is your hearing as good as Shinobu says?”

“Did you not know?” disgusted, Uzui sneered at him. “Literally how. I am the sound pillar, of course my hearing is good. And what’s with calling Kocho Shinobu, I’ve been meaning to ask?”

“We are friends, she said to call her that,” redirecting his gaze forward, Giyuu finally saw the oiran. Her hair was full of ornate pins, kimono decorated in a lavish pattern. The girls who surrounded her were much less expensively dressed, their hair pins falling short in comparison. Men stood behind her, keeping the regular customers at a safe distance and shielding the oiran with a parasol.

“It’s Koinatsu-oiran from the Tokito house,” shielding his eyes with his hand, Uzui stretched to get a glimpse. “She’s going to greet one of her customers. It’s flamboyant, isn’t it, with all those people following her? Don’t stare too long, Tomioka, you can’t win an audience with her being such a virgin.”

Ignoring Uzui’s pointed comment, sensing another outburst, Giyuu whirled around and slapped a hand over an irate Zenitsu’s mouth. Effectively silenced, he took a deep breath of relief - Giyuu didn’t know how many more screaming fits he could take in one day - noticing a woman staring intently down at Inosuke. Tapping on Uzui’s shoulder, he pointed her out. 

“Excuse me, sir, I’d like to take this girl in,” the woman covered her smile with a sleeve, trying to seem coy. “I’m part of the Ogimoto house, my eyes don’t deceive me.”

Instantly, this pepped Uzui up. Clapping his hands, he finalised the deal with the woman, thanking her for her patronage.

“Be well, Inoko,” waving cheerily until they were out of sight, Uzui smiled widely. As soon as they were gone, he glared down at a now-sweating Zenitsu. “Come on, you. I need to get rid of you.”

Silently, Giyuu trailed along after them. Uzui was a man on a mission; he was determined to sell Zenitsu to the right house. Somehow, he managed to charm the hostess of the Kyougoku house, thanking them both graciously for their patronage. The two men then set off, Uzui grumbling all the while.

“I can’t believe I had to sell them so cheap,” counting his money, Uzui groaned heavily. “This is your fault for stopping me taking those cute girls. I would’ve made a fortune off them.”

“You wanted to sell young girls into prostitution?” Giyuu was disgusted. “Shinobu is going to be unbelievably mad when she finds that out.”

Uzui balched, staring Giyuu down. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Giyuu said nothing, but apparently to Uzui that was worse. 

“Look, they wouldn’t have been made to actually work here,” Uzui scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at him. “There’s no need to tell her, you know how she gets when she’s mad.”

“Wouldn’t she know by now anyway?” looking at him from the corner of his eye, Giyuu sighed. “Kanao would tell without question.”

“... Shit.” 

They walked in silence, finally reaching the front door of another house. Uzui led the way, walking up to the doors first.

“This is the Tokito house,” he whispered under his breath, waiting for the hostess to greet him. “You’re going to like this.

Biting his tongue, Giyuu willed his denial back down.

Uzui spoke quietly to the hostess and her husband, Giyuu staring off into the distance of the night. The woman’s face was heavily flushed, eyes roaming up and down Uzui’s tall frame. Fixated on his partially bare chest, she smiled coyly, ignoring her husband’s disapproval.

“Well, we can’t offer you an audience with Koinatsu-oiran, as you know,” bringing her covered hand to her mouth, she hid a smile. “But our next best girl is free. Someone go get Naoe!” 

Scampering footsteps raced away down the hallway, getting further from the pair. Uzui had reached into his kimono and was beginning to count the money he’d gotten from selling Zenitsu and Inosuke.

“How much time would this get me?” passing over a large sum, Uzui had a gentle smile adorning his face. The husband began to count it for himself, wife supervising. Doesn’t Uzui have wives? Why is he buying time with a prostitute? Didn’t he say that wasn’t a deep enough infiltration last time… 

“Two hours,” pocketing the money, the couple stood on either side of the doorway, opening a path up to enter their establishment. “Thank you for doing business with us.”

“I would say it’s my pleasure, but it’s really going to be his!” Uzui chuckled, pushing Giyuu towards the door. Eyes wide, he resisted, squirming to try and free himself from the hard grip. “Come on man, it’s already paid for! No need to be nervous, just go and enjoy!” 

Warning laced the pleasant words; a tone only Giyuu could detect. He shot a hard glare over his shoulder - a warning of his own. Giyuu wasn’t some regular Corps member Uzui could just push around like the two he’d sold today. But he had promised to help. Sighing heavily, Giyuu accepted his fate. Shoulders hunched, he walked inside, kicking off his shoes at the front door. 

Just before the hosts could shut the door behind him, Giyuu mouthed “you owe me” over his shoulder. Uzui frowned, confused, but waved him off with a shrug.

“Just follow the young lady upstairs, Naoe is already waiting for you,” the woman directed him to a girl who looked younger than the little butterflies at Shinobu’s estate. She took his hand, weaving through the many hallways to a specific room in the back. There, she knocked in an odd little pattern, before bowing to him and running off again.

The door slid open to reveal a woman - thank god - who looked to be around Giyuu’s own age. Her kimono was heavily layered, each piece that peeked out from beneath the rest had a unique pattern of its own. The outermost garment was an ashy purple; flowers in every shade of pink decorating the sleeves. The obi was made of the same purple, fading into a rich tan through white. Gold pins poked through her hair, a small matching flower comb holding the top in place.

Not quite as ornate as the oiran they’d seen, but she was close.

“Come in, please,” bowing her head, the girl spoke in a heady whisper. With a graceful wave of her long sleeve, she ushered him into her room. “My name is Naoe. What’s yours?”

It was dim in her room, a plush futon the centrepiece. A few barely-lit lanterns sat in the corners, shutters over the window already slipped closed. The click of the door behind him made him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth. Naoe crept up behind him, dancing her fingers up his arms as she rested her cheek on his shoulder blade. “Hmm?”

“Tomioka,” was all Giyuu could force out, breath hitching with every circle Naoe traced on his goosebumped skin. She sighed, sagging her weight against him. Softly, she dragged her hands down, winding her arms loosely around his waist, clasping them together. 

“Aww,” whining, she pushed up onto her toes, setting her chin on his shoulder. “Is that all you’ll give me?”

Giyuu tensed at the contact, stiffening against Naoe. She whined again, splaying her hands flat against his abdomen, tapping her fingers lightly to a rhythm he didn’t know.

“That’s fine too, I guess,” trailing her fingers up his chest, Naoe reached up until she found bare skin, slipping her hand just beneath the fabric. Heart racing, Giyuu stared at her over his shoulder, mouth slightly agape. “I know other ways of getting it from you.”

Removing her hands from around him, Naoe backed off, giggling. She adjusted the pins in her hair, delicately sitting on the futon with her legs tucked in beside her. Patting the space before her, Giyuu watched the fabric puff out from the slightest tap of her hand. Entranced, he watched her hand rise and fall, once, twice, three times. 

Click. 

Smirking, Naoe gazed up at him from where she sat, perched on her knees. Fingers held together in a snapping motion - that explains the click - she bit her lip, tugging Giyuu down by the hem of his haori.

“I can tell you’re new to this,” comfortingly, Naoe reached over, rubbing the inside of Giyuu’s knee softly. “I’ll be gentle.” 

Delicately, as though she weren’t even touching him at all, Naoe trailed her fingers off Giyuu’s leg and back onto her own. Eyes locked onto his, she smiled, her whole face lighting up. Hand on her obi, she began to pull the bow loose, slipping one shoulder free from her kimono. Creamy bare skin snapped him out of his trance.

“Wait!” Giyuu grabbed her hand before she could finish untying her obi, stilling her movements. Naoe’s eyes blew wide, breath hitching in her throat. Blood rushed to Giyuu’s cheeks, finally bringing on the blush he hadn’t been aware enough to produce. “That’s not what I’m here for.” 

“Then what are you here for?” wrenching her wrist free of his grip, Naoe shuffled backwards, straightening up her kimono. “Are you just trying to build up favour to gain an audience with Koinatsu-oiran? Saving yourself for her isn’t noble, you know!” 

Naoe leant away from him, holding her arms tight to her chest. A deep frown settled over her pretty features, disgust evident as her lavender eyes looked him up and down, sneering. “Am I too ugly for you, or something? Are you that particular that only an oiran is pretty enough?”

“What, no!” Giyuu spluttered, reaching a tentative hand toward her, but she batted it away. Relenting, he scooted to the opposite wall from her, giving her as much space as he could. “I’m here for Suma.” 

“So you are here for an oiran!” huffing, Naoe turned her nose up at him, staring at the door. “Too bad for you she lost her footing recently.”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Giyuu shoved the many thoughts about how to kill Uzui to the back of his mind. Naoe was still upset at his rejection, huffing with every other breath. Swallowing his pride, Giyuu sighed heavily. 

“I’m not here to gain favour with an oiran,” rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers, Giyuu thought over his words carefully. He forced them out, one by one, past the thick ball of shame weighing down his throat. “You’re pretty enough for me.”

Naoe looked back at him from the corner of her eye, frown softening up at the sight of sweat beading on his brow. After a long pause, she finally turned to face him again, a light smile on her lips.

“You’re the awkward type then, I see,” crawling back over to him, she placed her hand back on his knee, rubbing her thumb back and forth. “So, you’re here for Suma, but not because she’s an oiran?”

“What happened to her?” willing away the urge to remove Naoe’s hand, Giyuu gulped thickly. “Is she not here anymore?”

“She lost her footing,” Naoe slid over to him, hooking one arm through Giyuu’s stiff one, resting on his leg. She leant her head on his arm, rubbing her hand on his thigh. “That’s when a girl runs away without paying her debts. No one expected that from Suma-oiran, she was always so good. I really hope nothing bad happens to her.”

Nuzzling her face into his arm, Naoe moved her hand to rest on Giyuu’s inner thigh. Immediately tensing, Giyuu forced himself to take a shaky deep breath, calming his nerves. Cursing the mere thought of Uzui, he stayed rooted to the spot, so as to not offend the girl again. 

“Would something bad happen?” locking his eyes on the wall ahead of him, Giyuu pretended not to notice Naoe fiddling with her kimono next to him. Faintly, from the corner of his eye, he could see her slipping it loose, so it no longer covered her shoulders.

“Hmm,” she hummed, tapping a finger on pouted lips. “Maybe. Weird things do happen around here, it wouldn’t be out of the question.”

Frowning, he turned to look down at her. With a smile gracing her face, she brought her arms tight to the sides of her chest, forcing it out into Giyuu’s eyeline. Blood rushed to his cheeks as his eyes darted away - look anywhere but there! - in embarrassment. Unconsciously, he pulled his collar from his neck, the sweat that gathered there making the fabric stick uncomfortably.

“What weird things happen?” Giyuu choked out past dry lips, tongue darting out to wet them. He couldn’t see her, but he heard her giggle quietly. 

“Well,” she dragged out, playful lilt to her tone. “They’re all supposedly suicides or girls losing their footing, but I’m not sure that’s the case. The hostess at Kyougoku house was found dead outside her establishment two days ago - an apparent suicide - but it just seems weird, you know? Why would she kill herself? And especially like that, she seemed to have jumped from the roof, but it’s so gruesome. What an unbecoming way to die for a lady.”

Smiling to herself - a contradiction to the topic at hand - Naoe tapped her fingers on her collarbone, leaning towards him on one hand. She tilted her head, looking expectantly up at him.

“What about Suma, has anyone found her?” breathing heavily through his nose, Giyuu gritted his teeth. Naoe started massaging out the knots in his shoulders.

“No one’s heard from her since she left,” she grunted, coming across a particularly stubborn knot. Biting his lip, Giyuu hung his head to hold in a groan. Nezuko’s box had been wreaking havoc on his shoulders, unused to carrying an additional load with him on missions. 

Nezuko! He had to get her back from that woman soon. Uzui had said she was trustworthy, but leaving her in anyone else’s care still made him nervous.

“But, Koinatsu-oiran says that Suma-oiran wrote in her diary that she lost her footing, so maybe she really did just escape,” finally working the knot out of his shoulder, Naoe trailed her fingers over the back of Giyuu’s neck. She leant closer, her breath ticking the strip of skin visible above his collar, giggling breathily as he flinched. “You’re so reactive.”

Hunching his neck into his shoulders, Giyuu scowled at the ground. Naoe tapped his cheek, leaning across his back to see the other side of his face. “If you want my opinion, I think it’s suspicious, and a convenient excuse for someone to get rid of her. Adding the hostess from Kyougoku house to the equation, things just don’t add up, don’t you think?”

“Do you have any suspects?” Giyuu’s hand twitched from where it lay on his lap, the reflex to grab the offending finger strong from Shinobu’s relentless teasing, but he suppressed it. 

“Perhaps I do, but are you willing to keep it a secret?” she crawled around to kneel in front of him again, extending her pinky finger to him. Sighing, Giyuu offered up his own for Naoe to take. With a cheery smile, she wrapped her finger around his, bringing her thumb up to touch his in the middle. “Now, you have to seal it with a kiss!” 

“Wha-” Giyuu’s eyes blew wide, mouth snapping open and closed to the sound of her laughter. Leaning in, before he could back away, Naoe pecked him on both fiery red cheeks before letting him go.

“I suppose that will have to do for now, can’t have you setting on fire in my room!” smoothing her hair back into place, Naoe leant forward, hand cupping her mouth as she whispered into his ear. “Warabihime-oiran from the Kyougoku house.”

“Why her?” Giyuu felt like he could finally breathe again when she leant back to finally give him some personal space.

“Well,” Naoe eyed the window nervously, shuffling closer to Giyuu to keep her voice low. “She’s… off. The way she acts with the other girls, the hostesses, even the men, it’s just weird. Being bratty can be normal for girls around here, but she takes it to a new level. The only reason she gets away with it is because she’s a beautiful oiran, if any of the rest of us tried it we’d be forced into losing our footing.”

“Have girls been forced into that before?” Giyuu’s own voice was low, mindful of Naoe’s nerves. Her eyes kept darting between the window and door, as if she were wary of someone coming in.

“Yes, but that’s not the point,” she was borderline whispering now, sweat beading on her brow. “I’ve heard rumours. Years ago, before I was even born there was said to be a beautiful young girl who worked around here, who’d tilt her head and look down at you when she was mad. People say that it’s Warabihime-oiran, but that’s impossible, because she doesn’t look any older than me, but she’d have to be twice my age by now if that were the case.”

A woman who didn’t age, in the same house as the hostess who just died? Giyuu hoped Zenitsu didn’t cross her path before he and Uzui could get to him.

“Thank you, Naoe,” standing, Giyuu smoothed his kimono back into place, moving to the exit.

“Wait, is that really all you’re here for?” Naoe whined, tugging at his sleeve. “But you paid for so much time!”

“Keep it,” Giyuu nodded to her, slipping out of her room to the sound of her protests. Just barely refraining from running down the stairs, he walked as fast as he could. Pulling on his shoes, he hoped to miss the hostess, but he wasn’t so lucky. 

“Done so soon?” she smirked at him as he adjusted the straps. “Naoe’s one of the best, but you do still have time left with her. Are you sure you’d like to leave?”

“Keep it,” he bowed to her, trying to hide his burning cheeks as he ran out the door. That was the most mortifying experience of his life.

The trip back to Fukuda’s was thankfully, uneventful. She let him in to change, taking the kimono off his hands to keep with Uzui’s. Adjusting the straps to Nezuko’s box on his shoulders, Giyuu cracked his neck. As uncomfortable as he had been with her persistent touch, Naoe really had worked wonders on his shoulders.

Jumping onto the rooftops, Giyuu ran along them until he caught sight of Uzui. With a roll of his eyes, Giyuu sprinted over to him, flopping down next to where he sat.

“Oh, Tomioka! You’re back quick!” Uzui grinned widely at him, white teeth glinting in the light. Clapping Giyuu on the back, he laughed heartily. “Did you get my money’s worth, eh?”

“Never do that to me again,” rolling his eyes, Giyuu shoved Uzui’s arm off his shoulders with a shrug. “That was the most mortifying experience of my life.”

“Well, it’s good to get some practice in before you get a wife,” cupping his chin between his thumb and forefinger, Uzui pretended to look thoughtful. “So, how did it go?”

“Nothing like that happened,” Giyuu shot him a withering look, cupping his chin in his hand. “I just asked her about your wife.”

“Tomioka, she could’ve shown you a good time! You can’t spend all your time being a pillar, you’ll retire at some point,” Uzui gave him a light shove, Giyuu rolling his eyes so hard they felt like they’d fall out of his head. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m right, I have three wives.”

“Yes, those wives we are here to rescue, so do you want the information I gathered or not?” tapping his fingers on his cheek in annoyance, Giyuu saw Uzui sigh from the corner of his eye.

“Fine, you can stay a mega virgin if you want,” with a condescending pat to his head, Uzui turned to face him fully. “You can always come to me for advice if you decide otherwise. So, what did you find out?”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that,” Giyuu nodded sarcastically, scraping his hair with his fingers. “Suma apparently lost her footing. She wrote it in her diary.”

Uzui narrowed his eyes, frowning as he thought over Giyuu’s words. “Did she believe that to be true?”

“No,” shaking his head to his own words, Giyuu pointed over in the direction of the Kyougoku house. “Naoe said that the oiran in the house you sold Zenitsu to is suspicious. There have been many girls losing their footing, and the hostess even died recently.”

“Anything else?” Uzui stood, beginning to walk over the rooftops to the Kyougoku house.

“Apparently, the oiran is rumoured to have been here for decades,” following after him, Giyuu jumped from roof to roof. They stopped on the one directly across from Zenitsu’s house, settling in to watch over him. “Everyone believes her to be the same one because of her mannerisms.” 

“Damn, you really got a lot out of her,” with a laugh, Uzui leant back to get himself comfortable. “More than I was able to when I infiltrated as a customer. You must’ve really charmed her, huh?”

“Please do not start with this again,” Giyuu rubbed his temples with his fingertips, closing his eyes. “I need to erase today from my memory.”

“You’ll live,” Uzui turned back to Kyougoku house with a smirk on his face. “We will just have to wait until Zenitsu comes out before making a move. I told them to meet us out here tomorrow - I assumed you’d take longer with Naoe, you are paid to be there for much longer by the way - so we can sleep at Mrs Fukuda’s house during the day.”

“No more setting me up with random women,” sighing, Giyuu settled in with Uzui for the rest of the night.

“Are you going to let out your little demon?” after an extended silence, Uzui looked over to the box resting on his back. 

“That’ll just alert the demon we are after,” shaking his head no, Giyuu readjusted the straps so it sat on the roof instead of hanging off him. “Nezuko could use the sleep.”

“You’re rather close with her, aren’t you?” with the knuckle of his pointer finger, Uzui knocked lightly on the wooden frame. “Close enough to die for a demon.”

“I didn’t almost die for her, she saved me, ” pushing Uzui’s hand away from the box, he shot him a glare. “I would’ve died if she hadn’t been there.”

“So she’s useful?” Uzui lay on his side, keeping his hands far away. “Well, I suppose she can prove that soon enough.”

Two crows flew up to them during the night, sending brief messages from the two boys in their respective houses. Neither had seen anything untoward that day; Zenitsu was grumbling about all the work he had to do, and Inosuke complained about being clothed.

“You’d think this is the worst thing that had ever happened to them, the way they’re complaining,” Uzui shook his head, sending the crows back on their way. “They’re so dull.”

“It’s their first group mission since Tanjiro died,” resting one hand on the side of Nezuko’s box, Giyuu let his eyes unfocus. “They’re probably just scared.”

They sat together in silence until the sun began to rise, Uzui claiming they’d “get arrested” for being on the roof in the daytime. Giyuu followed without much complaint.

“It’s not that bad getting arrested, we could’ve gotten out of it easily,” pulling off his shoes at Fukuda’s front door, he let Uzui lead him through her house.

“Tomioka, have you been arrested before?” eyes sparkling with mirth, Uzui looked at him over his shoulder, barely containing a laugh. “That’s surprisingly flamboyant for someone like you.”

“Twice,” Giyuu shut the door to the room offered to him in Uzui’s face, cutting the booming laughter short. They’d agreed to resting during the days until dusk - Zenitsu’s wellbeing was a priority, but they couldn’t exactly barge into the Kyougoku house during daylight. 

***

“Come on, wake up,” aggressively, Uzui nudged Giyuu from his sleep. With a scowl, he sat up, ruffling his hair into place. It was late afternoon, sun hanging low in the sky. “You sure slept like the dead. Are you sure you didn’t get tired with Naoe the other day-”

“Let’s just go,” shoving him out of the room, Giyuu mentally thanked the absent Fukuda for letting them stay for the past few days. Rather than camp out in the streets, Uzui thought it best to have the boys send him updates via crow and meet up every few days. Two pillars and a demon were likely to raise suspicion, so this was the best option they had. They jumped across rooftops together, box bouncing on Giyuu’s shoulders. Guilt bubbled in his stomach, the acrid taste coating his tongue as he thought about Nezuko being trapped in there for so long. Sleep was good, she needed it to live, but it was cramped in the tiny box. I’ll let you out soon enough, he thought to himself, resting one hand on the wooden wall. 

Inosuke sat on the roof alone, waiting for their arrival. He was looking around, head darting back and forth to try and locate any of his companions, but none came. Before he noticed them, Uzui sat down behind his back, Giyuu sitting to his side. Jerking back in surprise, Inosuke composed himself quickly with a frown. 

“You’re late!” he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger Uzui’s way. “There’s a demon at my place! Like this!” 

Inosuke began to contort his body, an attempt to demonstrate what it looked like. Raising his arms above his head, he hunched his shoulders, swapping positions when recognition didn’t click into place for Giyuu. 

“I think I put you guys in terrible danger,” Uzui had been silent since they left Fukuda’s. Along the way, Inosuke’s crow had come by to announce he was already waiting for them, but nothing had come from Zenitsu since the day before. “The desire to save my wives caused me to make a grave mental error. Zenitsu’s whereabouts are currently unknown. His contact stopped yesterday.” 

He didn’t turn to face them, instead keeping his eyes trained on the building ahead of them. Kyougoku house. “Inosuke, your rank is too low. Get out of here today. If the demon is an Upper Moon, you can’t deal with it. I will regard the people who stopped sending me letters as dead. Tomioka, you can stay if you want, or help Inosuke escape, but from here on, I will move on my own.”

“Why are you so sure they’re dead?” Giyuu called out, stopping him just before he ran off. 

“If this is an Upper Moon, you know better than anyone how strong it’ll be,” Uzui focussed his gaze on him over his shoulder, unfeeling. “Just look at what happened to Rengoku, and Shinazugawa. Even that little demon girl’s brother. The best outcome for everyone is that they died quickly.”

“Hold it, old man! You’re a pillar, and you’re just going to leave them to die? Who says they’re even dead yet! We can still save them!” Inosuke reached out toward him, but Uzui was already gone. Grumbling to himself, Inosuke turned to face Giyuu instead. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

“No,” Giyuu firmly shook his head, hair bouncing back into place. He wasn’t about to leave one of Nezuko’s friends to die here. Not again. Zenitsu was alive.

He had to be.

“I’ll just tell you what I know then,” frowning, Inosuke was deep in thought. “I felt a demon in Makio’s room, but when I went in it was just trashed! Scratches everywhere, and wind movement, but no open windows anywhere. I tried to follow it, but all the people got in my way.”

“Was there any blood anywhere?” he believed Inosuke, the demon was almost definitely the reason Makio had gone missing. But if she had disappeared yesterday, the same day Zenitsu did, things didn’t add up. He and Uzui had kept an eye on both the Ogimoto and Kyougoku houses the previous night, and there was no movement between them. So Makio couldn’t have been carried without their noticing. 

“No, only scratches into the walls,” Inosuke cupped his chin between his thumb and hand, deep in thought. “Why does that matter?”

“The demon is pretending to be a human, most likely in Kyougoku house,” Giyuu cracked his neck, scratching it when he was done. “If it’s the oiran like the rumours say, she has eyes on her all night. So killing humans in the open would draw too much suspicion.”

“And bloodstains would be hard to clean,” nodding to himself in understanding, Inosuke smiled. “So, you think they’re all still alive?”

“Yes,” looking him straight in the eye, Giyuu moved to a crouching position. “Likely using some kind of passage between buildings she’s passing with her blood demon art. You’re free to stay here, if you want to save your friend. Just don’t die.”

“Of course I’m staying!” Inosuke exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “Zenitsu is my friend, I’m going to save him! You’re staying too, aren’t you?”

Giyuu hummed a yes, standing up himself.

“We promised to protect Nezuko!” jabbing his thumb in the direction of her box, Inosuke began raising his voice. “If you’re staying here, with her, we have to, too.”

“Someone will come get you in a few hours from the Ogimoto house,” keeping his smile hidden behind his hair, Giyuu walked past Inosuke. “Stay safe.”

Running in the direction Uzui took off in, Giyuu left Inosuke behind. He trusted the boy to keep himself safe until dusk - his promises to his friends had weight to them after they’d all felt the consequences. Giyuu wondered what knowing Tanjiro would have been like, had they gotten to meet again. Even just from Nezuko - Zenitsu and Inosuke by extension, too - he could tell Tanjiro had a positive influence on everyone he met.

A weight settled in the pit of his stomach, following a choked down swallow. He would let Inosuke stay here in Yoshiwara, but he would do everything he could to keep him safe. Inosuke wasn’t going to be a repeat of Tanjiro. If that meant leaving him waiting in Ogimoto house until the demon was dead, then so be it.

Finally, past the Kyougoku house on the outskirts of the district, Giyuu stumbled upon Uzui. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually leave,” Uzui kept his eyes trained on something in the distance, but Giyuu couldn’t tell what. “You’re surprisingly noble, for such a self important ass.”

“Huh?” Giyuu frowned, confused at the sudden harsh words.

“I suppose you might not actually be like that after all, are you? You came all this way, let me tell you what to do, went along with all of my plans even though they made you uncomfortable, all for people you’ve never met,” scraping his perfectly styled hair into place, Uzui let out a wry laugh. “You’re just shit at expressing yourself.”

“Probably,” sighing, Giyuu crouched down next to him, settling in when Uzui didn’t look to be moving away. “What are you planning to do?”

“I’m going to Hinatsuru’s location soon. She’s in Kirimise, the brothel where prostitutes go if they’re sick,” he inspected his nails, aimlessly picking at them to pass the time. “What are you planning on?”

“I sent Inosuke back to Ogimoto house, so I can patrol without watching him,” fiddling with the hem of his haori, Giyuu sighed. “He’s expecting one of us at dusk. If we don’t come, he’ll probably break out anyway.”

“Oh well, it’s safer if he’s sat on his ass waiting,” the sun finally began to dip beneath the horizon, sky stained a bright gold. “What a flamboyant sunset this will be.”

They sat in silence together, watching the sun fall lower and lower in the sky. Gold turned to orange, pink and purple before either of them spoke again.

“Be careful, Tomioka,” Uzui stood, stretching out his tired joints. “You’ve already fought an Upper Moon before, if this is another-”

“Then we will be fine,” following suit, Giyuu winced at his own cracking joints. “There’s two pillars here, after all.”

***

Giyuu walked through the streets of Yoshiwara, barely making an effort to conceal his sword. Some of the residents glared when they noticed, whispering among themselves, but Giyuu tried to ignore it. The stares still made his skin crawl, but luring the demon out took priority. If he couldn’t find the demon at one of the other houses, Giyuu planned to stake out Ogimoto house to watch over Inosuke. 

Shame crawled up his spine at the sight of the Tokito house front doors. Ducking behind the nearest bush, he crept out of sight of the hostess and her husband, sneaking away unseen. With the back of his hand, Giyuu wiped the sweat from his brow, checking over his shoulder to ensure no one saw him. An empty street was all that met his gaze.

Relief coursed through him, visibly sagging his shoulders. Scratching a hand through his hair, Giyuu relaxed. If the owners of that house didn’t see him, then he would be fine. No embarrassment had to be relived. 

Stilling in the middle of the street, Giyuu’s spine crawled once more. But this time was different. His heart rate quickened, but his breathing slowed. A demon. But it hadn’t been there seconds before - the passageways? With his eyes closed, Giyuu took a deep breath, trying to pinpoint the direction the demon was coming from. 

A shutter slammed open above him, wood cracking following the sound. 

“Tomi-” a feminine scream of his name was cut short with a sickening crunch, so loud it forced his eyes closed in a wince, and a dull thud. Dripping was all that broke the silence, something rolling to a stop at his foot.

Peeling his eyes open, Giyuu looked to the ground. Wide lavender eyes stared up at him, unseeing. Red was all he saw next. Red dripping from the window, red smeared on the ground, red decorating Naoe’s severed neck. 

Giyuu couldn’t breathe. All he could see where those damn lavender eyes, burnt into his memory. 

Forcing himself to calm down, he inhaled deeply through his nose, slowing his breathing. A loud cackle broke his fragile calm.

“I wanted to eat Naoe, but she was just in the way,” a woman with long black hair stood behind Naoe’s headless body, wide grin stretching her lips. Floral patterns were stamped on her forehead and cheek, her sash moving in the air as though it were alive. “But it’s okay, now that you’re here, pillar. Good thing you came. That person will be pleased.”

From here, Giyuu could just make out words written on both of her eyes. Upper Moon Six. But it was strange; she didn’t have the same presence as an Upper Moon. When he compared her to Akaza, it was like night and day. She was at best, a Lower Moon.

So how did she have the marks to prove otherwise?

“It’s a really good thing you came straight to me,” she crawled out of the window, sitting on the sill. “Now I don’t have to waste my time looking for you.”

Giyuu stayed silent. If he could lure her out to the ground, he could minimise the risk of others getting caught in the crossfire. Taking one step back, his breath hitched. Naoe’s head settled into the place where his foot had once been. His heart pounded in his chest, boiling anger tightening his chest. He felt hot, seeing the dead girl rolling on the ground as though she were nothing.

“Are you angry?” she tilted her head, smirk baring pointed fangs. “She’s just a worthless human. Like you, but at least you’re a pillar.” 

She flipped her long black hair over her shoulder, kicking Naoe’s body off the window. Landing with a sickening squelch, her severed neck oozed the last traces of blood left. The demon jumped down after, disgust marring her pretty face at the blood on her shoes. Giyuu waited, biding his time, letting her walk towards him, away from the buildings. Unlike when he fought Akaza, people were lining every path he could take this demon down. He had to be careful.

Sauntering towards him, she kicked Naoe’s head away like a misplaced temari.

“Pretty eyes you got there,” she licked her lips, tongue lolling out past fangs. “I’ll gouge them from your head then dump you with that little girl. I’ll even kick her head back over for you.” 

Clenching his jaw, Giyuu forced himself to stay calm. Taking one more step back, she followed him. This was far enough. 

He leapt. Pulling out his sword in midair, Giyuu slashed it through her neck. With a yank, it tore free. She gasped, desperately clawing at the air to catch her head. Tears bubbled up, rolling quickly down her cheeks.

“You cut my head!” she shrieked, cradling her head close to her chest. “You’ll pay for this!” 

Chapter Text

“How dare you cut my head off!” she screamed at him, falling to her knees. “I’m an Upper Moon!”

But was she, really? If he was able to cut her head off so easily, she couldn’t be the true Upper Moon Six. The markings on her eyes claimed otherwise, though. They weren’t something demons were able to fake, otherwise Muzan wouldn’t use them.

So how did a demon so weak become an Upper Moon?

“I’m super awesome!” she kept wailing, fat tears bubbling past her eyelashes and up her forehead, where it lay upside down in her lap. “I’m Daki, the super strong Upper Moon Six! I’ve got the number to prove it. And I’m only just number six now, so I’ll get even stronger from here!”

Nezuko grumbled in her box, but didn’t come out. Giyuu could feel her shifting around; itching to face another strong demon, but she had to wait. Something was off. The demon - Daki, he supposed she was called - had her neck cut, but showed no signs of crumbling. She didn’t even seem scared that she was dying, so maybe she wasn’t. Maybe there was a trick to this after all. 

“Die! Die!” she beat her closed fist against the ground, voice hitching in her throat. “You’re going to die!” 

Her wailing rose to a shriek, screams echoing through the empty street they stood in. Collapsing, she fell to the floor, beating her fists on it like a child.

“He cut my head!” said head rolled on the floor where she dropped it, crying all the while. “Big brother! My head got cut! It got cut off!”

Daki’s body began to contort where she lay, bulging unnaturally around her ribs. Disgusted, Giyuu watched the lump move, parts stretching out as though they were about to burst. When her skin drew taut, it reached the breaking point. The top of a black head broke free, a muscular, yet malnourished looking man pulling free of her. Giyuu reached for his sword, leaping forward, but they were gone before he landed. The demon’s reaction time was insane.

The man sat in front of Daki, down the street. He was deathly pale, with a grey tinge to his pallor; black birthmarks breaking up the tone. Hair fading to a bright green, Giyuu caught glimpse of sickly yellow sclera from the angle he was on. 

“Crying’s not going to help. At least stick your own head back on,” gently, he righted Daki’s head on her neck, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Man, you really are lacking in the brains department, huh?”

This was the real Upper Moon Six. A pure menacing aura filled the street, making Giyuu’s neck crawl. Managing both of these demons alone would be a death sentence, now that the real Upper Moon was here. 

Keeping his eyes trained on the demon pair, Giyuu reached back to Nezuko’s box and knocked in a preset pattern. One-two-one-four.  

“Nezuko,” Giyuu sat with her, next to her box. “I’m going to teach you some knocking patterns, so you know when to come out without me telling you. Can you remember them?”

Nodding happily, she clapped her hands together and shuffled closer. 

He tapped on the door once. “This is how you can show me you understand. Knock once.”

She knocked on the inside of the door with the knuckle of her pointer finger.

“This is the longest one you’ll need,” he knocked once, twice, once, then four times. “It means for you to jump out of the box as soon as I start running, okay?”

Nezuko tapped the door once. Smiling, Giyuu ruffled her hair, running through the patterns again.

“We’ll have to practice you jumping out next.”

She knocked back once. 

“Just eat that body on the ground,” scoffing, the man pointed at Naoe. “It’s a waste, man.”

“That’s disgusting! It’s all dirty!” with a sniffle, Daki wiped her cheeks dry. “I’ll just get my sash to eat something from the meat storage.”

Giyuu stood frozen, watching the pair interact. It was strange; they didn’t seem to be the same demon split off into two, but rather two separate people who seemed to merge from time to time. That was odd enough on its own - demons didn’t stick together in groups. But, Daki had called him big brother, so maybe they were siblings and therefore the exception. He didn’t want to waste time mulling it over, instead he waited for the perfect moment to intervene.

“I only managed to get one,” hiccupping, Daki stumbled to her feet. “She jumped in front of another girl before I could get to her. The other pillar cut it all up before I could eat any others.”

“That’s more than I thought you’d get, man,” he pushed himself to a standing position, bending uncomfortably at his sunken waist. “You’re just my dumb little sister.”

“Stop calling me dumb! Shut up, shut up! Gyutaro!” whining, she shoved him - Gyutaro? - away. Coloured bands flew through the air; the rest of her sash merging with her body again. Black hair faded to white and green, much softer than the harsh contrast of her brother’s. As she righted herself, Gyutaro spun to face Giyuu, smile baring his sharpened, yellow teeth. 

“Nice, man,” he scratched at the birthmark on his cheek, looking Giyuu up and down. “Nice face, no scars. You’re all covered up, but I know you’ve got nice flesh, too. I couldn’t get any fatter myself. I’m sure you’re popular with the ladies, man.”

Giyuu’s eyes flickered down to Naoe’s head, remembering Uzui’s teasing. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. 

“Oh, the envy,” Gyutaro raked lines in his skin, from shoulder to chest. “Could you just die already? I’ll give you a real painful death. I’ll skin you alive and choke you with your innards right after.” 

Slowly, Giyuu moved his hand to rest atop his sword hilt. 

“Big brother, he bullied me!” Daki cried, balling her hands into fists. “I was working super hard alone, and that man bullied me!”

“Yeah, unforgivable,” clawing at his side, Gyutaro pulled out a pair of sickles from his own skin. “My cute little sister was working so hard. I’ll kill anyone who tries to bully her. Time to collect debts. I’ll collect one for every bruise he put on you.”

Gyutaro turned to face her one more time. Now. 

Charging, Giyuu felt Nezuko open her door and jump free, taking her sword with her. Gyutaro flicked his sickle. Dark blood shot out at them in waves. Freezing, Giyuu stopped his movements as fast as he could. Just as the blood reached him, he stilled. With Lull, he just managed to cut through the immediate blood blades, avoiding getting cut. They’re strong. Nezuko ran past them both to Daki, slashing straight for her neck. 

“Man, you had a demon on your back too,” Gyutaro laughed, twirling one of the sickles between his fingers. “She’s just like me. But she’s weak.”

“She’s nothing like you,” Giyuu spat, narrowing his eyes. He scrunched his nose, disgust making his upper lip curl. 

He just laughed at that, contempt ringing clear through his cackling. Nezuko caught Giyuu’s eye, charging at Daki with her sword held close to her side. She raised the blade, slashing when she got close. Daki’s eyes widened, stepping just out of the path of her sword. 

“What the hell?” she sneered, turning to Gyutaro. “She’s using a sword?”

“That’s just unfair, man,” scratching down his face, Gyutaro raked cuts across his eye. “That demon’s got a way to kill us but we can’t kill her. Get rid of her sword.”

Nezuko lunged again, but Daki got there first. Her sashes tore Nezuko apart, cutting away her fingers so her sword clattered to the ground. Even her head was cut off, every one of her limbs ripped from her body.

Giyuu saw red. 

He ran straight at Daki, vision tunnelling. All he could hear was his blood roaring in his ears, heart beating fast - too fast, calm down - quickening his breathing. Hyper focussed, he was about to jump, but Gyutaro ran before him. Concentration broken, Giyuu skidded to a stop, just ducking beneath blood blades flying at him.

“I’m still here, man,” lifting his first two fingers straight up from his sickle, Gyutaro sneered at him. “Keep your eyes on me, not my little sister.”

Grunting, Giyuu forced the blood away with First Style, slashing his blade at an angle to push them up. They were heavy, so heavy. But breakable. Looping back around, the attack homed back in on him. He slashed it directly with Fourth Style, snapping his blade harshly through the attack. With each blood blade he cut, an explosion set off, forcing him to step further and further away from Nezuko. Finally, he broke free of the last one.

Nezuko was growling, her foot puncturing Daki’s back. Her uniform was torn, legs bare from where they’d regenerated. A vine pattern twisted its way up her skin disappearing beneath the fraying fabric. The skin around her left eye was cracked; Giyuu could see what looked like a horn on the other side of her head. She grinned, raising her foot again to crush Daki’s head, but her sash sliced off her leg before she could.

Red, from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t move in time, snapping himself in half at the waist protected him from the worst of it. A cut still tore across his back, albeit shallow. But it burned . The edges felt like they were curling in on themselves, searing pain pulsating through his exposed flesh. Giyuu could feel his heart dragging the poison through his veins, white hot fire pumping to his extremities. It felt like he’d swallowed the sun - he’d certainly had the practice, when training Dance of the Fire God - the poison leaving a dull ache in its path. The panting made it worse, making his heart race, forcing the poison around his body quicker. Limbs leadened, palms slickened. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, it certainly was working quickly. Forcing his breathing to slow, Giyuu felt his heartbeat calm with it. Killing both demons with just Nezuko to help him was almost as tall an order as surviving against Akaza. 

But they’d done that, so they could do this. 

He saw movement from the corner of his eye, again. A missed blood blade flew at him. Pushing past his heavy muscles, Giyuu sliced it in half, the edges exploding around the side of his blade. With a deep breath, he stepped back, putting some distance between he and Gyutaro. 

Growling caught his attention.

It was Nezuko, that was certain - he’d heard her growling before, this definitely matched in tone - but it was so much worse. Guttural noises, ripping themselves through and past her vocal cords. It sounded like it hurt. Looking over at her was even worse. She was torn up again, but this time, Nezuko had solidified her blood so they hung free in the air. Her sword was gone - Giyuu could see the handle lodged into the wall, so it’d likely been kicked away - hand missing from her wrist along with it. Blood stained the area, from the ground, to Daki, to Nezuko herself. Even Gyutaro hadn’t gotten out of it clean, blinking some of her blood free from his eye.

“Nezuko!” Giyuu ran at her, but he stopped short of reaching her. With glee painted over her face, to his dismay, she set the area on fire. 

Daki screamed. She howled, crying, wailing as she reached out for her brother. Through the hysterical noises of pain, Giyuu could hear Nezuko laughing. Joyfully, she pieced herself back together, torn away limbs guided by her solidified blood. 

Gyutaro reached out to grab hold of her, pull her out, do something, but Nezuko got between them. Setting the blood that had landed on his skin alight, she kicked him into Daki’s flames. Slowly, she raised her leg up, slamming it down on Daki’s head. She kept stomping her, crushing her head into mush on the concrete. Gyutaro threw his burning sickle at her, but she was too fast, ducking beneath it’s path. In the blink of an eye, Nezuko kicked the sibling pair into the nearest building, hard. The wood splintered and snapped away beneath them, the screams of residents filling the streets.

There are still residents around. 

Snapping from his stupor, Giyuu grabbed Nezuko before she could give chase. He wrapped his arms around hers from behind, locking his hands together behind her head. Snarling, she wrenched her head from side to side, trying to break free, but Giyuu held on for dear life. Nezuko moved one leg back before Giyuu could ready himself, flipping him off of her and hard onto his back. Sword clattering to the ground dangerously far away, Giyuu gritted his teeth. Coughing up all the air in his lungs, he forced himself back to his feet, tackling her to the ground. 

“Nezuko, wake up!” pushing all of the strength he had into forcing her down, Giyuu breathed in shakily. Soon enough, Gyutaro and Daki would stop burning, and if Nezuko wasn’t back to normal… Naoe wouldn’t be the only innocent life lost.

Gnashing her teeth at him, Nezuko strained her neck up as far as her pinned arms would allow. 

“Is that Nezuko Kamado? She’s about to be a full blown demon. Fix it,” Uzui snuck up on him, stepping harshly on Nezuko’s hair. Her head cracked onto the ground, a new wave of growls ripping from her throat. “If she kills someone, I’ll kill her.”

Something was off. Uzui’s voice was more clipped than usual, any trace of his usual quirks void from his voice. He let up on Nezuko’s hair, running off after the sibling demons without another word. Shelving that concern to focus on the task at hand, Giyuu panicked. He didn’t know how to break her free, he’d only ever known Nezuko the demon! What would be a strong enough reminder to Nezuko the human to wake her up?

Feeling his grip start to slacken on her wrists, Giyuu worried his lip with his teeth. He didn’t have time to wrack his brain for potentials. If only Tanjiro were here, he’d know something. Fighting Nezuko on the ground, he pushed all the strength he had left into his hands. The attempts of restraining Nezuko were forcing the poison to progress faster than it ordinarily should for a pillar. Giyuu’s heart burned, poison infecting it from the inside out. It was only a matter of time until it wrenched control away, forcing his heart to stop.

Tanjiro was the only hint he had. Trying to think back over everything he read out to Nezuko in his journals, Giyuu came up short. A little lullaby came to mind, but he only remembered the start. He didn’t know the tune, whispering was his only option.

But it would be worth a try.

“Knock knock,” raising his voice above her snarls, Giyuu forced the words out of his swelling throat. “Little bunny from the little mountain.”

Recognition glinted in her eyes, tears bubbling up on her waterline, but she kept hissing. Swallowing thickly, Giyuu opened his mouth to try and force himself to remember the rest - even switch to some lullaby Tsutako would tell him - but he choked on air before he could. Violently, he coughed up blood, some splattering on Nezuko’s face despite his best efforts to turn away. Letting go of her wrists, he clawed at his throat, the poison finally swelling it closed to cut off his airways. He sat back, coughing for air, trying to gasp in anything. Even a whisper of air would be enough. All he had to do was bring Nezuko back, then it would be okay. He could die. It would be okay. 

His eyes started straining, growing more and more bloodshot as air refused to pass his closed throat. Nezuko hadn’t moved from the ground; that was all Giyuu could tell through his blackening vision. Spots started closing his sight in, narrowing his vision until all he could see was what was directly before him. 

Sweat beaded at his brow. If he couldn’t get himself together to bring Nezuko back, then she’d die. She’d kill, and then she’d die. 

His vision blacked out completely, sounds muffled as he felt the world spin around him. Calloused fingers scrambled for purchase on the rough concrete, but all he got were tears and cuts for his troubles. Giyuu gritted his teeth, coughing heavily. Though he couldn’t hear it anymore, he felt more blood splatter beneath him. Arms shaking as he tried to hold himself up, Giyuu tried to lock his elbows in place, but he couldn’t hold himself up. 

A wave of warmth washed over him. 

The poison had ached in his extremities the most - his fingers felt like lead, solid and stiff - as his heart slowed its beating. Infected blood couldn’t flow away like it did at his heart. Feeling crept its way back into his fingertips, moving through his palms to the wrists. Warmth licked at any exposed skin, sucking the poison out. 

His vision came back first. 

Nezuko was crouched in front of him, cupping his face in her bloodied hands. Fire surrounded them both, burning from her open wounds that she wasn’t letting heal. It danced over Giyuu’s skin and clothes, never catching him but burning nonetheless. Her forehead was deeply creased, a furrow marking the space between her brows. Mouth moving, she seemed to be making noise, but Giyuu’s ears were still muffled over. 

Coughing violently, his throat opened back up. As deeply as he could manage, past the coughs, Giyuu breathed in as much air as he could. It was still short, breath coming in in puffs, but it was better than before. His heart sped back up to the normal pace, ears finally becoming sharper and clear.

“Mmm!” Nezuko gathered his head in her hands, cradling it to her chest. It was an awkward position - she was so short, Giyuu had to hunch so his head fit under her chin like she wanted - but she was content, running her fingers through his hair. Sighing with his own dear relief, Giyuu let her hold him for a moment, thankful she was back. 

Pulling away, he inspected her for any signs of losing control, but Nezuko was completely normal.

“Did you burn the poison out?” his throat was dry, still thick from having swelled shut. She nodded, worry never leaving her eyes. “Thank you.”

An explosion behind them brought Giyuu back to the present. The one thing he knew about Uzui was that he got his sound pillar title by fighting with bombs . 

There would be time for relief when this was all over.

“Nezuko, we need to find out swords,” she perked up at his words, pulling him to his feet. Under some rubble glinted the blue and black blades, thankfully undamaged. Handing him back his, Nezuko grabbed her own blade, determination glinting in her eyes. In a little alcove, Giyuu left Nezuko’s box behind for safekeeping. 

They ran over to the hole in the building, following the sound of explosions. Uzui was fine - albeit with a few cuts, but they were shallower than Giyuu’s had been so he hoped that meant less poison, too - but the demon siblings were not so lucky. 

Daki was burnt all down her body, with one eye completely exposed in her skull. Through the slowly healing flesh, he could see the white of her bones peeking through. Tears leaked from her exposed eye, as she held the other shut tight.

“They’re bullying me! First that little bitch burns me, then he cuts my head off again!” stomping her foot in a huff, Daki cried. “Why am I the only one getting cut? This sucks! This sucks!”

Gyutaro didn’t look much better. His lower jaw had burnt away, leaving only his bones and his now-loose tongue behind. Drool slipped through the hole, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Shithead! Shithead! You’re so gonna pay!” she jabbed her finger toward Uzui, screaming incoherently. “Make him pay!”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Gyutaro cracked his neck, readjusting his grip on his sickles. “He’s gonna die soon anyway. Dying real slow, just like the other pillar outside. But this one we will beat slow and steady.”

Giyuu lingered by the hole in the wall, waiting for the right moment to re-enter. They hadn’t noticed his or Nezuko’s presence yet, so they had the luxury of surprise. 

“And the demon girl,” Daki sniffled, wiping her nose. “We need to kill her too.”

“Right after this one dies, we will go after her,” waving her off, Gyutaro rolled his eyes.

Feeling a presence come up behind him, Giyuu moved fully behind the wall to stay out of the demons’ line of sight. A thankfully uninjured Inosuke and Zenitsu - who was asleep? - launched in front of the opening.

“Don’t forget about us, buddy!” Inosuke brandished his swords wildly, narrowly missing Zenitsu by his side. “Master Inosuke and his underling are here!”

“What? Who’re they?” Daki sneered, voice thick with contempt. “I don’t want to fight abominations.”

“Some of your underlings arrived, but there isn’t a happy future waiting for any of you, man,” Gyutaro ignored his sister. Faintly, Giyuu could hear the sound of him raking his claws down his face. “Don’t get all sparkly eyed on me now, man.”

“We will win,” with heavy breaths, Uzui stood his ground. “We are demon slayers.”

“No, you can’t!” Daki’s voice was shrill with anger and indignation. Nezuko narrowed her eyes at the sound, but didn’t move from Giyuu’s side. “That pillar, your last ray of hope, will die from poison! That other pillar outside has already died from it, we heard him choking!”

“Huh?” Inosuke turned back to look at Giyuu, who frantically shook his head at him. 

“We’ll win easily, you dumb underlings!” cutting him off, Uzui began what Giyuu assumed to be a long pep talk. He’d often do these at pillar meetings, so it wasn’t surprising that he'd start up now. “There may be poison in my body, but I’m running high! Don’t look down on humans! These two boys are my prized tsuguko! They won’t run away, they’ve got guts!”

Inosuke interrupted his speech with a loud cheer, dangerously brandishing his swords once more. Giyuu thanked every deity out there that Zenitsu was still asleep, so he couldn’t squawk about the wild movements.

“I’ve already figured out how to beat you guys! Just cut your heads off at the same time, you’ll both die simultaneously! That has to be it. I have no reason to split you two up and take the weak little sister alive,” with a loud bark of laughter, Uzui cut himself off. The laughter was too sudden, setting off a short coughing fit. It was a hacking thing, reverberating through his lungs and chest into the surrounding area, but Uzui brushed it off. “You guys are easy!”

“I see, how simple!” Inosuke laughed along, happily parroting what Uzui said as he forgot about Giyuu’s presence. “Of course we’re gonna win!”

“That ‘simple’ can’t be easily done, because you demon slayers are dead, man,” smugness oozed like a thick, old slime from his voice, disdain dripping from every word. “As for pillars, we ate a number of them. I got fifteen, my sister got seven.”

“And that other one with the pretty eyes is already dead,” Daki sneered, joy peeking through her tone. “That demon girl he was with has probably eaten him already. Nobody will be alive by sunrise. The long night’s always been our ally. You’re all going to meet your deaths here!”

Whipping of fabric made the hair on the back of Giyuu’s neck prickle up. Daki’s sashes. They cracked as they moved, tearing through the air at breakneck speeds.

A clap of thunder echoed through the building. 

Alarmed, Giyuu searched the sky but found nothing but stars above him. Turning back to their juniors, he saw Zenitsu missing, Inosuke seemingly unalarmed. 

Ah. Breath of Thunder.

“Leave maggot girl to me and sleepyhead!” pointing to himself with his thumbs, Inosuke’s voice was concerningly chipper. “You get mantis boy. Get it!”

Inosuke nodded to him before jumping on the roof, where Zenitsu had seemingly forced Daki to. Silently, Giyuu turned to Nezuko, pointing for her to go to the roof. They’d be more likely to need her help than two pillars.  

She looked upset, grabbing his hands to stay behind. As gently as he could manage, Giyuu peeled her hands off, ruffling her hair. Relenting, she jumped to the roof, giving backup to Zenitsu and Inosuke. 

Sneaking closer to the opening in the building, Giyuu peeked around to get a grasp of the situation. Gyutaro stood across from Uzui, finally having recovered from his burns. Uzui didn’t look healthy - his pallor was insipid, with deep hollows beneath his eyes. Sweat beaded on his forehead, mixing with the blood from the cut on his scalp. His eyes were pointedly not looking in Giyuu’s direction; of course Uzui heard him. 

Before Gyutaro could move, Giyuu ran. 

His legs were still stiff, muscles tensing from his previous poisoning. Taking one step a little shorter than his regular stride, Giyuu turned his foot abruptly, cutting the inevitable slide of his shoes on the wooden floor short. Adjusting his grip, Giyuu jumped into Third Style, weaving his blade smoothly through Gyutaro’s arm. It flew threw the air, sickle and all, thudding onto a bloody puddle on the ground just as he stopped moving. 

“You’re still alive?” Gyutaro snarled, baring his yellowed teeth at Giyuu. “You had so much poison though, man. But it’s all gone. How’d you do it?”

This time, Uzui ran forward, blades moving so fast against sickles it was hard to follow. But Giyuu watched anyway, waiting for one of them to falter. 

The blood on the floor solidified into a singular blade, forcing Uzui to back away from the demon. Breathing heavily - way too heavily - he panted, trying to catch his breath.

The poison was having more of an effect than he let on.

“I asked, how did you get rid of the poison?” Gyutaro looked unaffected, twirling his sickle in his freshly regenerated hand.

Giyuu stayed silent, moving slightly closer to where Uzui stood. 

“He’s not going to answer,” Uzui laughed, spinning one of his blades in his hand. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“Only guys like you have the luxury to ignore people when they talk,” the words were laced with envy, but his tone belied his loathing. “Whatever, man, if you die by poison or by being ripped apart, makes no difference to me.” 

Sashes tore through the ceiling, forming a thick maze of bright fabric around them. Tightening his grip on his sword, Giyuu was on high alert, eyes darting between the gaps in front of him to catch sight of any movement. Daki’s sashes were made from her own cells - cells of an Upper Moon - so it dulled his senses, hiding Gyutaro from view.

Uzui tapped him on the shoulder, proffering a palm full of his bombs without a word. Looking between the bombs to his face, Giyuu hesitated before pocketing them. Uzui carried them around all the time, they had to be safe enough. 

He’d just have to use them before they exploded.

The sashes were everywhere; a thick, dense forest of pinks and purples. It was suffocating, cutting off the view of the sky, the building, even each other. They stretched from beyond the ceiling to deep into the ground, domineering things that demanded their full attention. Worst of all was being unable to sense demons through it. Relying on his instincts alone would be fine, but with limbs weighed down with the aftereffects of poison, it was unclear he’d be able to move fast enough.

A twitch of the sash broke him from his thoughts. It was slight, just the faintest wobble. A whisper of a movement. But it was enough. 

Getting Uzui’s attention, he gestured to the bombs in his pocket, putting one finger up over his lips. He didn’t know what the plan was - that much was obvious, confusion written over his face - but he nodded anyway, moving behind Giyuu. 

With a deep breath, he filled his lungs past his burning throat. They ached, protesting in his upper chest, refusing to allow anything through. Until they seized, he kept inhaling deeper, forcing them to open back up. 

As quickly as he could, Giyuu weaved between the sashes, catching glimpses of movement unrelated to Uzui, who was hot on his trail. Bouncing between each foot, he pushed himself faster, as fast as he could go. Muscles burned in his legs, strained and exhausted from when he tensed against the poison, but it was bearable. 

Finally, he got close enough to where Gyutaro was disguised. After letting him catch sight of his drawn sword, Giyuu ducked behind a sash, throwing the bombs from his pocket towards him. Acting as a distraction, Giyuu charged at him, gearing up for a quick First Style slash. But it wouldn’t be to Gyutaro’s neck. 

Raising his blade up to his shoulder, Giyuu swung too early. It was nowhere near close enough to even graze Gyutaro’s skin. Cackling, his eyes sparkled with mirth at the failed swing. He opened his mouth to spew vitriol anew, fiery explosions cutting him off in his tracks.

The force of these explosions was immense; each tiny bomb packed densely with gunpowder strong enough to damage a demon. Giyuu had prepared for it as best he could, but with shaky arms, he hastily retreated from the flames. It was Uzui’s turn to cackle now, wildly slicing the sashes away from Gyutaro’s hiding place, exposing him to the flames.

Gulping heavily, Giyuu forced down memories of a red-eyed boy pulling that very same trick on him during their first - and only - meeting. It had been snowy, then; cold biting at exposed cheeks and fingers, locking them in place around his sword hilt. Chilled air tore through his thin haori, slowing his limbs as he ran. He’d been too late to save the family, but not this last survivor. 

“Tomioka!” Uzui growled through gritted teeth, blades crashing heavily into sickles. “Have you gone deaf or something?”

Rolling his eyes, Giyuu kicked off where he stood. Gyutaro had faint burns that were already closing over, gunpowder lacking the strength of Nezuko’s flames. Getting in the middle of their fight would only make him a liability; instead Giyuu focussed his attention on their surroundings. 

Clearing up the area would even out the playing field, after all.

Water breathing was much gentler on already aching lungs , he decided, tearing the sashes around them apart with Third Style. Dance of the Fire God can wait. 

Whenever a new one popped up, Giyuu tore it apart from floor to ceiling. They couldn’t regenerate, instead crumbling away where they landed. Crumbling! Jumping up as high as he could, Giyuu tore a hole in the ceiling, flipping into Second Style as he landed to avoid the rubble. It crashed down, wood and all the other materials bouncing off of the remaining sashes as it fell. The biggest pile, in the dead centre of the room twitched, before exploding. Rubble burst into smaller pieces, some becoming dust that muddied the air. Blinking the dirt out of his eyes, Giyuu saw Gyutaro shake himself free, launching right at Uzui. He parried the blow, twirling his joined blades between each hand as he held his ground. But it wouldn’t be enough.

Giyuu ran to them, sliding on the wooden floor to a stop just behind Uzui’s back. Blades of blood flew at them both, slamming harshly into his sword. Fingers twinged, threatening to slip, but he held them firm. Forcing the blades away, Giyuu let them all fly back towards them. Dance of the Fire God might be better to use against the blood - it had more grit, more weight to each blow of the blade, making cutting more effective - but Water Breathing was what he knew. It felt like home to him, twisting and twirling his blade like ever-changing water was a comfort. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his sword.

At the last second, when they were less than an arms length away, Giyuu cut them all. Eighth Style allowed him to neatly cut them all in half, explosions setting off just after he tore his blade through. Narrowing his eyes against the smoke, he felt Uzui back into him, pushed further and further by Gyutaro and Daki’s sashes. They were both weakened by the poison, but Uzui hadn’t gotten to see Nezuko yet. More and more cloth dropped through the broken ceiling, weaving through the air towards him. 

Swapping places with Uzui would have to wait.

Where Water Breathing was built for parrying, Dance of the Fire God was designed to cut. The sashes were malleable, bending where he tried to cut them. Swinging the blade as fast as he could did cut them, but Daki could send down ten more in that time. He couldn’t wield his blade like Uzui’s; twirling it through all of the sashes was out of the question. 

Burning them it is, then.

Taking a deep breath, Giyuu’s lungs burned. The sashes closed in on him, their target locked in. Thankfully, it wasn’t Uzui. Slashing his blade in a circle before him cut the sashes in half, blood dripping from their ends. They halted, frozen in midair before flying at him again. 

Good.

He ducked beneath them, watching as they weaved between themselves to try and follow him. Running to the other side of the room, he lead the attacks away from the fight. Backing himself into a corner, he waited, panting for air. Rust coated his tongue, creeping up his throat. Swallowing heavily pushed most of the taste away, but it lingered with every forced breath.

Jumping over the incoming sashes, Giyuu kicked off the wall above them. His lungs felt shallow, trying to force him to pant to combat his increasing temperature. Giyuu pushed it aside in favour of letting himself burn, piercing through each of the sashes with the tip of his sword. Landing light on his toes, Giyuu pulled them taut. 

He’d done this before, pairing Seventh Style with First in Water Breathing against a fabric-wielding enemy. That man’s technique used fabric too, but it created a fanged beast at the end. A little more of a hazard than Daki, despite her Upper Moon status.

Standing on the pierced sashes, Giyuu freed his sword. Before they could move, he jumped up, cutting them all in half. Withering away, the sashes retracted into the ceiling, back to Daki. Blood blades took their place without hesitation.

Gritting his teeth, Giyuu groaned. Relentless attacks only served to separate the pillars, dividing their strength. Sashes felt like cutting butter compared to Gyutaro’s attack. He parried the first wave of blades with Second Style, forcing them up to the ceiling. Looping around, they flew back toward towards him with an additional wave. Rubble was in piles across the floor, serving as a springboard. Giyuu climbed the mess, flipping off the top to cut them all in half with Second Style.

Dust coated every surface, making Giyuu slide upon landing. Back foot met wall; taking a choppier breath he switched breathing styles with no reprieve. Kicking off of the wall, he flipped over the rest of the blood attack, slicing them in two just as he had before. 

Another set of explosions rocked the broken building, dust showering all the inhabitants. Coughing heavily, Giyuu covered his mouth with his palm. Blood dotted the surface, his throat conspicuously wet, but he persevered. 

Adjusting his grip on his sword, Giyuu let the last attack hit his blade head on. Feet slid against wood; dust acting as an easy lubricant. He refused to cut it, rather holding it in place. His back met Uzui’s, where he finally pushed the blade up and over them both.

“Swap with me, Tomioka!” Uzui didn’t leave him time to protest - not that he planned to, anyway - swinging his chained blades wildly in the middle. “I’ll leave him to you for now!”

Gyutaro grinned, yellow teeth glinting under the moonlight. He said nothing, launching at Giyuu at breakneck speeds. Sword met sickle, Giyuu just getting it between the weapon and his neck. With all the strength he could muster, he forced Gyutaro’s arm away from him, trying to gain a little distance. One of the demon’s eyes was held oddly shut, despite being uninjured. All of Giyuu’s fighting experience told him that only meant trouble. 

Gyutaro was even more relentless than his blood blades. It took all Giyuu had to just parry his attacks. His concentration was elsewhere, ducking beneath the odd explosion and loose piece of rubble from an Uzui-related attack. Blade wobbling in his grip, Giyuu hissed air through his teeth. He needed some distance, he couldn’t use an attack of his own in a building this precarious. 

They had to get outside. 

Coming at him again, Gyutaro extended his sickles with a wry chuckle. Giyuu threw his head back, both of them barely missing his face. He couldn’t afford to get poisoned again. With each dodge, Uzui followed close behind, getting rid of any attacks that followed them out. Finally, he parried an attack, forcing Gyutaro into the open. 

A shrill scream echoed from the roof, feminine voice bouncing between the buildings. Daki was on fire again, Nezuko dripping blood from her wrist. Other than her self inflicted wounds, the three of them seemed okay. Gyutaro growled, sending his blood attack toward her, but Uzui sliced them before they got there.

“Just focus on him!” Uzui gestured wildly with his blades, cutting up another loose sash. “I’ll take care of these!”

“That whole successor thing was a lie, wasn’t it?” laughter spilt from Gyutaro’s lips, but it was laced with anger. “You guys don’t have any control over your movements. Totally incompetent. Except for that little demon girl, but she’s only good for fire. Hopefully she likes the feel of burning, man, because we’re going to roast her come morning light.”

Gyutaro’s little speech had given him enough time to make some distance between them. Bringing his blade to his shoulders, Giyuu swung. Dance of the Fire God!

His blade appeared to distort, like the ground in scorching heat. It wobbled in his own vision, Gyutaro’s eye blowing wide as the blade fell short.

“You missed me, ma-” his head sliding off his shoulders cut his sentence off. Aghast, he caught it before it hit the floor, quickly masking his shock. “It doesn’t matter if you cut my head off! My core is in my sister, man, I’m not gonna die from this!” 

“Duck!” 

Giyuu snapped his head to the rooftops, where an unfamiliar ponytailed woman stood. She held a weapon on her arm, tens of kunai flying through the air towards them. Jumping as hard as he could, Giyuu launched out of the danger zone, Uzui flying past him back into it.

Gyutaro saw them too, reattaching his head as best he could. It wasn’t firmly set, the healing process taking longer than usual thanks to the different breath style, but it was enough. He set off another blood attack, his blades forming a protective dome around him. The kunai bounced off, some being cut into pieces before clattering to the ground, useless.

Kunai stuck out of Uzui’s body, piercing deep into the muscle. He didn’t falter, ducking beneath Gyutaro’s extended sickle to slash his blade through his legs. Blinking rapidly, Giyuu cleared the last of the crumbling building’s dust from them. The demon’s legs didn’t heal, instead he fell to the ground, stumps uselessly stumbling on the dirt. A loose kunai stuck out of his neck - Uzui must have caught one, is it laced with Shinobu’s poisons? - giving Giyuu an opening. 

I’ve cut his head once, we can do it again.

Both pillars charged, blades outstretched. If they could cut his head while he was poisoned, then maybe, just maybe, the other three could get Daki’s. The tip of Giyuu’s blade just skimmed Gyutaro’s neck, blue reflecting onto his sickly skin, but it was too late. Both legs regenerated with ease.

“Man, that poison actually worked!” laughing in their faces, Gyutaro almost sounded impressed. But it was all for naught. He stretched his arms out to the sides, more blood blades already forming.

“Tomioka, get back!” Uzui ripped more bombs from his pocket, throwing them toward the blood blades. They’d formed two cylinders, extended over and beyond both of his arms without any movement. Planting his feet, Uzui whirled his blades in Gyutaro’s attack, slicing apart his bombs. Blood blades dispersed through the explosions.

When the smoke cleared, Gyutaro was gone.

“Where is he?” whirling around, Giyuu couldn’t see a trace of him. Faintly, he could hear blades clashing in the distance, but that was Daki. Her presence, and her sashes dispersed the feeling of demons from the area, so it was as though he’d disappeared. 

“Hinatsuru!” screaming, Uzui moved to run towards her. His voice was desperate, panic making her name crack in his throat. Daki’s sashes weaved around both he and Giyuu, trapping them to the spot.

“Tengen, don’t mind me!” she crouched down, yelling over the sound of Giyuu cutting apart sashes. “Look for the demon!”

“You sure did a number on me, man,” Gyutaro covered her mouth, yanking her head painfully close to his own. “And I do mind you, by the way.”

Uzui called her name out again as more sashes closed in on them, replacing the ones Giyuu cut away. He hissed, tearing through the new set. These goddamn things are never ending!

Gyutaro’s hand tightened around her face, crushing it from the sides as she struggled. Every sash they cut away was replaced by two more, they couldn’t break free, we can’t save her! I’m not letting another die in front of me tonight!

The sashes surrounding them set alight.

Fire roared past his ears, burning their fabric prison away. From what he could see between the burning sashes, Uzui looked to be on fire too. Gyutaro cried in pain, snarling as he fell to his knees, on fire. Nezuko stood on the other end of the roof, sword poised in front of Hinatsuru’s cut face. She crouched above the woman, waiting for Gyutaro to recover enough to attack.

Giyuu freed himself first, jumping up behind Gyutaro. He lifted his sword, swinging it toward his neck once more, but Gyutaro got his sickle in between just in time. Hissing, he tried to push Giyuu’s blade away, but his strength was focussed on healing.

If Giyuu moved his blade though, it would be game over.

He tried to push him back, feeling his sword creak in his hand. The hilt trembled, threatening to snap under the opposite forces. While his back was turned, Nezuko ran up behind him, swinging at the other side, but he caught her blade too. Her flames finally died out, leaving a mutilated Gyutaro behind.

“There’s no way you guys are cutting my head, man,” his speech was garbled, struggling to make the right sounds through his burnt throat. “You got me once, not again.”

Grunting, Nezuko pushed her sword closer, blade digging into that of his sickle. Uzui snuck up behind them all, blade tip extended to the back of Gyutaro’s neck.

“Nezuko Kamado, I am in your debt!” 

Wide eyed, he twisted his neck around. Gyutaro snapped his own neck to catch Uzui’s blade in his mouth. Stilled between his teeth, he smirked. Traces of his own blood leaked from invisible wounds, beginning to form the attack from the ground. Throwing her arms up, Nezuko freed her sword from his sickle, kicking Gyutaro as hard as she could to the ground before his attack unleashed.

“Good girl, Nezuko,” Giyuu panted, still struggling to breathe deeply. He turned to Uzui, seeing some colour return to his skin after Nezuko’s burning. Scowling down at the demon, he prepared to jump down, but Inosuke called out to them.

“Change of plans!” his jagged blades tore through a relentless torrent of sashes, too many for him to get a chance to breathe. “We can’t get through to maggot girl at all! We need help from one of you!”

“You go,” Giyuu nudged Uzui towards the younger boys, turning to Nezuko. “You’re more injured. We can fight Gyutaro.” 

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Hinatsuru ran off before he could stop her, dashing down the rooftops. “Good luck!”

Uzui hesitated, but finally relented, running over to Inosuke. Now that he had a second to breathe, the burning from his back wound made a reappearance. Wincing, Giyuu forced the pain down before Nezuko could notice. “Let’s go.”

Jumping down from the roof, Gyutaro surrounded them in Daki’s sashes. Nezuko brought her nails to her wrist, trying to claw it open, but Giyuu grabbed her hand before she could. 

“Just stab and slash! Like this,” he stabbed through the sashes, pulling them taut like before. Cutting them apart was easy - far easier than her Blood Demon Art, which was clearly taking a toll on her. Sweat beaded on her brow as shadows formed under her yes. She was panting as hard as Giyuu, but out of fatigue and inexperience rather than injury. Eyes gleaming, she stabbed through a bunch of sashes on her own, sloppily slicing them in half when she was done. Beaming at his affirming nod, she pushed him forward to Gyutaro, cutting any attack out of his way.

Gyutaro forced him back, sending wave after wave of blood blades towards him. Too many for Nezuko to cut away on her own, though she tried. Rolling his eyes, Giyuu squared his shoulders. Weaving his blade through Third Style, he sliced all of the attack away. Just missing the final blade’s explosion, he landed harshly on his foot, sending a pang up his ankle. Hissing, Giyuu rolled it tentatively. Not broken. Good. 

Eyeing the rooftop where his sister fought Uzui, Gyutaro tried to slip past them both. Both blades crossed in front of him, Gyutaro was forced to stop. Growling at them both, he repeated the domed attack from earlier. Giyuu stepped back, Nezuko following suit.

She stepped in front of Giyuu, taking the brunt of the attack when he forced the blades out. Ducking beneath her - with a mental thanks - Giyuu weaved between the rest of the sashes, twisting and rotating so Gyutaro lost sight of where he really was. Every attack met only his afterimage, coming up short. Getting just behind him, Giyuu was free of the sashes. While his lungs were still breathing fire, he whirled around, letting his blade bleed fire into Gyutaro’s arms.

The more they could incapacitate him, the easier it’d be to cut his head again. 

As he landed, Giyuu choked for air. All he could taste was blood; throat slickened and bleeding. Coughing only brought up more of it, the forced air tearing the wounds piece by piece. Before his arms could recover, Nezuko swooped in. She tore her blade through his legs, Gyutaro landing on stumps once more.

But the poison had long worn off. He regenerated, fast.

Before Nezuko could turn around, Gyutaro was in front of Giyuu. He slashed at him, tearing a deep wound across his chest. Poison spread to his heart almost immediately, dropping him to his knees. Nezuko squealed, dropping her sword in favour of running to Giyuu.

Gyutaro jumped to the roof, leaving them behind.

Nezuko fussed over him, hands fluttering over his shoulders before she gently shoved him to the ground. She worried, brows drawn together in a panic. Before he could stop her, she raked her nails down her arm, gathering a concerning amount of blood. Setting him on fire, she burnt the poison away before it could do even more damage.

But he was still bleeding, heavily.

“Can you still sit up?” Hinatsuru snuck up beside them, inspecting the cut on his chest. Nodding, Giyuu pushed himself upright, wincing at the blood that spilled down his stomach. She pulled open the buttons on his uniform, exposing the deep wound. Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she bit back a grimace. “All I can do is staple that closed, can you hold out till the end of the fight with just that?”

Nodding, Giyuu stayed quiet. Hinatsuru got to work, stapling his wound closed as fast as she could. It was messy, but nothing Shinobu couldn’t fix. A rogue explosion aired from the roof, girls blocking his view of the fight at hand. 

“Inosuke!”

Hinatsuru and Nezuko helped free his arms from his shirt, picking up the pace. Bandaging the wounds on his chest and back, Hinatsuru’s hands shook violently. She tied the cloth in a knot tight over his chest, smoothing her hands over it when she was done. Closing her eyes, she took a wobbly breath, pointedly not looking back up at the roof. 

“Any other injuries?” giving him a once over, Hinatsuru helped him pull his shirt back on, buttoning it over the bandages. At the shake of his head, she patted him on his shoulders, smoothing his clothes back into place. Another explosion was her cue, darting back off to wherever she came from.

Swaying on his feet, Giyuu let Nezuko pull him upright. The blood loss wasn’t too severe, but it would be soon. With a stagger, he pulled himself off Nezuko, balancing on shaky legs. He was breathing shallow, too shallow. Water Breathing wouldn’t even be an option here, let alone Dance of the Fire God.

Another set of explosions roared above them, Uzui holding one of his blades backwards. With the chain, he spun the other sword before him, slicing apart bombs in the air. Daki flew backwards, the force of the explosions blowing her arm off.

“What the hell?” she hissed, kicking a downed Inosuke as she backed away. “What kind of gunpowder is that?”

Blood dripped down the tiled roof from where Inosuke lay, gathering at the edge. A puddle was forming on the ground beneath them, blood dripping at an increasing rate. Zenitsu ran at Daki, the speed of his movements crackling like thunder. Uzui set off his noisy attack again, forcing Gyutaro back. Gesturing to Nezuko to be quiet, they crept along beneath the demons to where the blood sat. 

Just as he was about to jump up, Daki launched her sashes at Uzui. Tiles cracked and crumbled, sliding to the ground. Chunks of the roof broke away with them, failing under the increased weight of Uzui’s explosions. Yanking Nezuko with him, Giyuu just avoided the caving debris, losing sight of Uzui and Zenitsu. Faintly, he could see the top of Inosuke’s head from beneath the rubble. 

“We have to dig him back out,” whispering, he pulled Nezuko to the boy. Amidst the chaos, they freed him quickly, laying him on top of the wreckage. The hole in his chest was severe, blood still leaking from the wound. Whimpering, Nezuko shook Inosuke’s shoulder, but he didn’t respond.

“Whoa, you two are still fine?” Gyutaro called out. Slowly, Giyuu turned to face him, holding his breath. “You’re lucky, man. Everyone else is basically useless. Boar man got his heart stabbed. Yellow-hair is writhing beneath the wreckage where he was crushed. I’m just leaving him there to die. The other pillar was weak as shit. His heart stopped because of the poison, and he died. Pathetic, pathetic. You’re all so damn pathetic.”

Uzui can’t be dead. Not that easily. Nezuko burnt out the poison, didn’t she? Isn’t Uzui supposed to be a shinobi? He crept closer, sneering all the while. “You’re a pillar too, right? Yet you bring a demon along with you? Why’s that?”

Glaring at him, Giyuu stayed silent. He surveyed the area; Gyutaro wasn’t lying. Everyone else was incapacitated - thankfully, he couldn’t see Hinatsuru anywhere. Hoping she got away, all he found was Daki, perched on a roof opposite where they stood. Leisurely, she yawned, fanning herself with her hand. He had time to catch his breath.

“Not gonna answer? Well, when you die, man, I’m gonna kick her around until dawn. I’ll stab her into the ground with your sword in particular, man, right in her head so she can see it when the sun rises. It’ll be your fault she burns alive,” giggling to himself, Gyutaro covered his mouth with his hand. “She’ll writhe and scream but you’ll just be a dirty corpse, who can’t save anyone.”

“Stay the fuck away from my little sister,” growling, Giyuu threw a hand in front of Nezuko. Calm. He had to calm down. Flying at the demon in a rage would only get him killed. Getting hot in his anger, his face started to flush.

“Little sister?” Gyutaro was roaring with laughter now, doubled over. “Man, that’s a good one. There’s no relation between you two. She’s no sister of yours. You won’t even care when she’s gone. She’s used up most of her strength anyway. All you’ve got left is your weak, battered body,” shooting a hand out past him toward Nezuko, grin distorting his face. 

Giyuu’s left cheek burned.

Kicking him as hard as he could, Gyutaro was caught off guard. He flew across the street, skidding through the dirt. Before he had time to recover, Giyuu launched at him. 

Blood blades flew through the air, but he paid them no mind. Slicing them apart with a harsh, weaving Fourth Style was easy. Not missing a beat, he flipped over the next set with Second Style, slicing them all in two. Nezuko did the same with Dance of the Fire God, flipping over the rest to burn them away.

Gyutaro stepped back, eye wide. More blood leaked from him, gathering into the beginnings of his dual armed attack. Using Eighth Style, Giyuu brought his blade straight down through as many as he could. Nezuko moved to the other arm as Giyuu jumped away, trying to cut through some more blades but she got caught in the crossfire. 

Running towards her, Giyuu’s ankle twinged. His step faltering, he stumbled. A rogue blood blade sliced his thigh, traces of poison working their way into his system. With a low growl, he pushed on.

Nezuko thrusted her blade to the side, twisting her body the opposite direction. Forming a whirlpool that spun in the opposite direction to Gyutaro’s attack, she dispersed the blades, freeing herself. Giyuu cut them all with Third Style, so Nezuko could land to recover.

Barely injured, the few cuts that littered her skin were already closed. Readjusting her grip, she charged at Gyutaro again, but got cut off by Daki’s sashes. She spun her blade in front of her, slicing them all in two with a burning cut. 

Tearing apart more attacks as he inched closer and closer, Giyuu saw Uzui shuffle from the corner of his eye. He moved slightly to the side, forcing Gyutaro to turn his back to Uzui, hiding him from view. 

Daki’s sash forced Nezuko to bump into his side, growling. Blood blades and sashes flew towards them, closing in on the pair. She turned to Giyuu, grabbing his blade with her palm being cut. Sliding her hand along she surface, she smeared blood across it. It burst into flames, the blue hue warming to a fiery red.

With the dual Dance of the Fire God attack, he sliced through the incoming sashes and blades. Where his blade slid through fabric, it ignited. Flames danced up the sashes, burning their way to Daki once more. Gyutaro’s blood blades exploded on impact, giving him the smokescreen he needed.

Twisting and twirling out of sight again, Giyuu forced his lungs to accept the burn. It was easier, when his blade was alight. Like boiling water, rather than the icy currents he was used to. But water nonetheless. 

Gyutaro’s eyes couldn’t follow, getting stuck on where he had been. Nezuko was another distraction, charging at him with a fiery blade of her own. Getting behind his back, Giyuu saw Uzui was gone. Good. Not dead.

With the last of Uzui’s bombs, he threw it at Gyutaro, swapping to a horizontal Second Style flip. It exploded on his head, ripping apart hair and scalp. The smoke was thick, forcing Giyuu to back out before he choked. Coughing violently, he fell to his knees, hacking up more blood. It splattered on the ground, strings of bloodied saliva dripping from his lips. He needed Nezuko to burn him again, and fast. 

The flame on his blade petered out.

Gyutaro fell to stumps, his legs chopped off by Uzui. A spare kunai protruded from his shoulder; Uzui having used the cover of Giyuu’s bomb to hide the scent of poison. But he didn’t cut the head, despite being in the perfect position to. Frowning, Giyuu quelled his coughs. Uzui’s hands had the faintest tremor, struggling to get a solid grasp on his blades. Sweat poured down his forehead, blue shadows staining the skin beneath his eyes. Veins throbbed in skin, their blue hue stark against his unusually pale tone. Blood bubbled up at the corners of his lips, chest heaving with pants. Uzui wasn’t strong enough to cut his head. Not anymore. 

But am I strong enough anymore, either?

Gyutaro laughed at their predicament, setting off his dual armed attack again. Sharing a glance, Giyuu and Uzui swapped sides. Uzui ran past him, throwing bombs in the air. Slicing them all in half, Giyuu blew up the attack before it started.

“The score is complete!” cackling, Uzui slashed attacks away from Nezuko. “We’re gonna win!”

A thunderclap cracked behind them, rubble shifting and falling. Sparing a glance back, Giyuu saw Zenitsu charge Daki, his blade slowly tearing through her neck. Gyutaro’s grin slipped off his face, yellow eye widening at the scene. He moved toward them, trying to get to his sister, but Giyuu’s blade stopped him in his tracks.

Blade against skin. Demon against human. Brother against brother.

Digging in to his neck, the blade spilled blood down his chest. Giyuu tugged, trying to force it through, but nothing worked. Straining his muscles, the blade tore measly centimetres into flesh. 

The poison has worn off. 

It felt as though his neck was getting thicker the deeper he cut. With everything he had, his strength, his fever, his need to protect Nezuko. It wasn’t enough. Uzui sliced through any attacks coming Giyuu’s way; it was all he had the strength for.

Uzui is protecting me, but he’s dying. I’m dying.

Panting, his breathing grew shallow. His heart raced in his chest, drowning out all noise.

I can’t save anyone.  

His blade stilled.

“Can’t do it, man?” Gyutaro laughed, voice warbling around the blade in his neck. “You just can’t save anyone, can you? What kind of pillar are you?” 

Hands shaking on the handle, he tried to keep moving, his arms just wouldn’t cooperate. Move, move, please move-!

Gyutaro’s sickle stabbed into his arm. 

More poison flowed through his veins.

It was now or never.

With the strength he didn’t know he had left, Giyuu forced his blade to move again. 

He’d prove Gyutaro wrong. None of his friends were dead yet.

And they never would be.

Blood flowed down his arm to his wrist, slickening the handle. If he moved his hand, he wouldn’t be able to grip again. But the demon’s neck was so thick-

He had to do it. 

With a loud yell, Nezuko threw her sword as hard as she could into his own. It cracked, splitting in two on impact. But it jolted him just enough.

Dredging up all the strength he had left, Giyuu tore his blade free, Gyutaro’s head flying through the air. It rolled in the dirt and dust, stopping just in front of his sister’s.

They’d won.

Chapter Text

Staggering, Giyuu felt his knees buckle. Hands finally slipping off the hilt of his sword, it clattered to the ground, breaking the tense silence. Landing hard on all fours, he forced his breathing to slow, desperate for air. The sickle stabbed through his right arm pumped more and more poison through his veins the longer it sat there, but he had no strength to pull it out. 

With a gag, Giyuu choked, coughing violently. Blood rattled in his chest, spittle stringing from his lips. Mixing with the dust and dirt below him, the blood puddle darkened, creeping wider with every passing second from his throbbing arm. 

Hands fussed over him, pausing over the weapon in his arm. Through spotty, blackening vision, Giyuu saw Nezuko’s worried face, her hands hovering over the sickle. Gently, she wrapped one hand around his bicep, the other around the handle to pull it free, but her eyes darted to the side as she froze. Uzui was yelling something unintelligibly behind them, his words slurring over his thick, poison-laden tongue. 

If he’d had the breath to spare, Giyuu would’ve laughed. They’d made it so far, only to die to poison before the demons could crumble away.

Nezuko slammed him to the ground, hovering her body above his own. Giyuu’s head snapped against the ground, the force of her shove catching him off guard. Blinking heavily, he tried to clear his unfocused gaze. The moon above them was bright, making his hazy eyes cross to try and focus on its light. Blackened waves spun above them; unusual things, unnatural. They seemed familiar, but Giyuu couldn’t place them through his haze. Nezuko grunted, clutching Giyuu tighter, but his head was too foggy to figure out why. She pushed up finally, her head hovering above his own, blocking his view of the moon. Squinting, he tried to focus on her face, but his eyes kept crossing against his will. With a sigh, he let them fall closed, only for Nezuko to shake him until they opened again. 

She whined above him, brows furrowed together tight. One of her hands was on his shoulder, ready to shake him again if he faded again. The other rested on his cheek, trying to assess his injured state. Groaning, Giyuu moved to sit, Nezuko shuffling to help him up. His stomach lurched, hot, bitter bile burning its way up his throat. Swallowing heavily, he forced it back down, panting all the while. Quelling his nausea would be easier if he could breathe, but bringing his knees to his chest was all he could manage. After a moment, when his stomach felt stable enough for him to move, Giyuu lifted his head. Nezuko sat in front of his knees, watching his every move. She fussed over him, brushing his sweaty hair from where it stuck to his forehead, staring deep into his eyes. Such a deep gaze would normally be uncomfortable, but Giyuu didn’t have the capacity to dwell on his own discomfort.

Blood dripped from Nezuko, red-stained strands of hair painting lines of pain across her face. There weren’t many cuts left, but Giyuu could see where they had been - the barest, cleanest skin surrounded by blood being a telltale sign - the largest one visible being a deep gash that tore through her left shoulder. Her blood gushed everywhere, intermingling with Giyuu’s own in the dirt. Their uniforms were bloodlogged; weighted down and wet. Scraps of fabric hung loose over her frame, her haori shredded.

It hadn’t been shredded before he’d hit his head.

Frowning, Giyuu wracked his brain, but he still struggled to think, especially now that his ears were ringing. Was she protecting him, when she’d thrown him to the ground? Opening his mouth, he went to ask, but his breath caught in his chest. Hands flew to his neck, clawing at the skin, trying to get a grip through the sweat and blood, but they slipped away. Nezuko whimpered, ripping his hands away from himself, setting them both on fire. 

Where her hands held his, the poison burnt away first. His fingers, palms, and wrists all felt cold, despite the fire that surrounded them. Without the poison burning his veins, a chill shot up Giyuu’s spine, shaking his whole body. The sickle in his arm burnt away too, a fresh wave of blood flowing out of the wound as it crumbled.

Ah. Perhaps the cold is from blood loss. 

Staring at Nezuko, Giyuu watched the way her eyes scanned his body, searching for injuries. She wasn’t straining, drooling at the mass of blood that surrounded them. She was focussed on his injured arm, but only because she tore some of her destroyed uniform off, wringing out her blood from it to tie above his wound, cutting off the blood flow. 

She didn’t seem to react to his blood at all.

Through his foggy memories, he knew she’d woken up from her berserk state when he coughed on her before, rather than attack him. She’d chased after the residents, but she’d looked after him, dressing his wounds, burning his poison away. 

Ears finally stopping ringing, Giyuu surveyed his surroundings. Faintly, he could hear Hinatsuru and another voice, fussing over Uzui. The only missing people were Zenitsu and Inosuke, but he didn’t even know where to start looking.

“Nezuko,” he tripped on her name, throat drying out as the swelling went down. “Do you know where the others are?”

Before she could answer, Zenitsu popped his head out from beneath the rubble - when had all of that got here? - screaming all the while.

“Are they gone? Did we win?” he shrieked, both to no one and to everyone, staring up at the sky. With Nezuko’s help, Giyuu got to his feet - albeit shakily - and staggered over to him. Sluggishly, his movements were slow and fatigued. He tripped on a piece of rubble, nearly falling if it weren’t for Nezuko catching him, and bringing his arm across her shoulders. Stomach gurgling, she paused their movements, letting him regain composure. The tattered buildings around them spun, Giyuu swaying on his feet. He’d definitely done something to his head. But he was better off than he had been after fighting Akaza, so he could tolerate it. 

“We won,” Giyuu croaked out, coming to a stop next to Zenitsu. The blonde boy visibly relaxed, falling flat onto the ground with a heaving sigh. 

“Inosuke’s just up there,” he pointed to a pair of dangling legs, suspiciously still. “His heartbeat is slowing from the poison, but I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Giyuu turned to Nezuko, flicking his eyes between hers and the dangling body on the roof. He couldn’t make it up there, not in his condition, but she could. Nodding, she ran up, immediately setting him on fire.

“Can you hear where the demon heads are?” Zenitsu nodded, pointing in a general direction before passing out. Inosuke cackled from the roof, yelling incoherently. Sighing, Giyuu stood straight, taking the smallest steps he could manage until Nezuko came back down to help him. “Is Inosuke okay?”

She nodded, gesturing to Zenitsu before pointing back up to the roof. Giyuu took that to mean he’d passed out, and began walking over to the demon heads. They lay alone on the ground, screaming at each other arguing about some nonsense. Taking a closer look, Giyuu saw they were safely crumbling away, despite their furious argument. He turned on his heel, as quickly as his nausea would allow, leaning on Nezuko as they left the dying demons behind. 

His feet dragged across the ground, shoes catching on rubble. He would’ve tripped, if not for Nezuko’s iron grip on his waist; a stabilising force in his distorted world. Throbbing ached behind Giyuu’s eye, a sharp thing, making his head feel tight. Pressured. Blinking rapidly, he tried to force the pain away, but only felt like his eyes were bulging from their sockets. Nezuko whined next to him as he rubbed at his eyes, trying to get him to stop. 

“Hmm, I see. Hmm,” a familiar voice came from near Uzui, a mocking tone underlying their words. “Six. The weakest Upper Moon. The six thing aside, you beat an Upper Moon. We should actually be celebrating. The six thing aside, I should like, praise you or something.”

Next to Uzui stood Iguro, looking down upon his sitting form. Uzui wasn’t doing well, his skin stained with poison, veins strained under the stress. He opened his mouth to rebuke Iguro, say something, but no sound came out. Iguro frowned, looking between the three people sitting against the broken building. Hinatsuru fussed over him, wiping sweat from his forehead and tending to the cuts that littered his body. The other woman next to him cried, deep, gut wrenching sobs shaking her small frame. Giyuu assumed that was one of Uzui’s other wives, worried for her husband.

But where was the third?

Unwrapping his arm from Nezuko’s shoulders, he sent her ahead. She turned back, checking on him over her shoulder, but when she saw he was somewhat steady on his feet, she ran off. Stumbling, he shuffled across the ground, never raising his feet from the dirt, sliding them instead. It was helping to maintain his balance, swaying more violently without Nezuko as a support. She squeezed between Hinatsuru and Uzui - having shrank to her child size as she ran - setting him on fire.

Finally, Giyuu made it next to them, collapsing to his knees. The crying woman was hysterical, screaming incoherently as she reached for Nezuko, but the others sat in shock. Through the flames, Giyuu saw the blood drain from Uzui’s face, poison burning away.

“Put it out!” finally forming words, the woman just missed grabbing Nezuko’s haori as she ran to Giyuu’s side. The flames petered out when her hand left Uzui’s skin, fading away to nothing.

“What the hell just happened?” Uzui asked, voice ringing clear and loud through the rubble. All heads snapped to him at once, eyes wide at the sight that befell them.

Uzui’s skin was clear, veins no longer raised and strained. His eyes had cleared, the blood vessels no longer near to bursting. Chest rising and falling regularly, his airways had opened back up, demon poison no longer swelling it shut.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Hinatsuru clasped her hands together before her face, resting her head on shaky knuckles. She closed her eyes, mumbling a quiet prayer. The other girl was still crying, but had quietened significantly, letting Nezuko out of her sight.

“I couldn’t bear to lose another one of us today,” sniffling, she hiccuped, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Both girls launched at Uzui, wrapping their arms around his neck - and each other - tight. His own arms brought them in as close as they could go, burying his head between theirs.

“Where’s Makio?” Iguro finally spoke up, shooting a hearty glare at Nezuko from his left eye. She shuffled behind Giyuu, holding tight to a handful of his haori.

Silence fell upon them after Hinatsuru’s breath hitched. The other woman sobbed, hiding her face in Uzui’s dirtied uniform. Makio. Uzui’s third wife. 

Iguro kicked the dirt beneath his feet, shuffling as the awkward quiet dragged on. Gulping thickly, Uzui raised his head, looking Iguro dead in the eyes. 

“She was eaten.”

Giyuu froze. She was eaten? Neither demon was out of their sight at any time, how could that have been possible? Was there a third lurking around that he’d missed?

“By one of the sashes,” Uzui cleared his throat, eyes flitting to Giyuu’s confused face before staring back at Iguro. “She was protecting Suma.”

“I’m so sorry!” the crying woman - who Giyuu now knew to be Suma, Uzui’s other missing wife - wailed, ducking her face into her hands. “It’s all my fault she’s gone!”

“It’s not your fault-” Hinatsuru began, resting one hand on Suma’s shoulder, but she was thrown off with a huff.

“It is,” laborious breaths cutting her words short, Suma stuttered past her tears. “We all know it. If I weren’t so useless, Makio would still be here!”

“It’s not your fault,” Uzui stopped her speech, placing one hand on her head. “I’m just happy the two of you are still here, even if we did lose Makio. I didn’t lose you all.”

Nezuko yawned quietly, head knocking on Giyuu’s shoulder. Shifting, he stood, bringing her growing form up with him. As Uzui comforted his wives - and Iguro stared uncomfortably, wanting to leave but unable to find the opening to go - Giyuu shuffled away. Nezuko’s box had to be somewhere nearby; she was leading him in a pointed direction, so he followed without complaint.

Hissing, Nezuko stopped, glaring at the pool of blood beneath them. She turned up her nose, looking anywhere but at the puddle. Giyuu tilted his head, confused at her disgust, before it clicked.

This was the demon’s blood. 

Slowly, he dug through the pockets of his uniform, fishing out one of Tamayo’s needles. Nezuko lowered him to the ground - a pinched look crossing her face the closer they got to the pool - helping him not fall face first into the thickening liquid on his unsteady feet. A meow came from his left as soon as the needle was full.

Yushiro’s cat rubbed itself against his ankle, Giyuu’s heart clenching at the sight. Of course the one animal to tolerate him since childhood was the pet of a demon, but he’d take it. Scratching the cat between the ears, he tucked the needle safely into the pack resting on its back, watching wistfully as it disappeared.

Dragging him back to a standing position, Nezuko helped Giyuu shuffle to her box. She propped him against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position. Streaks of light cut through the night sky, signalling the new day. Worriedly, Nezuko frowned at Giyuu, fussing over him a little more. She’d have to hide away soon, when dawn broke, so no one could watch him. Waving her off, Giyuu sunk into the wall. The kakushi would arrive soon enough. 

Leaving it as long as she could, Nezuko kept tapping Giyuu on the shoulder, preventing him from sleeping. When the morning light finally started to hit the rubble-laden ground, she ruefully crawled into her box, shutting the door behind her. Periodically, she’d bang on the wooden surfaces, loud enough so Giyuu couldn’t pass out.

Growling, Giyuu knocked his head lightly against the wall in time with her taps. One - pause - three - pause. It was rhythmic in a sense - she’d always pause, holding the quiet for different lengths of time - but she kept the pattern as irregular as she could, so he couldn’t drown it out. It was infuriatingly effective.

Finally, when the sun was so bright that his closed eyelids couldn’t even shield him from the light, he heard the shuffling of the kakushi.

“Oi, hurry up! There’s two pillars around here!”

“Well, where’s the other one?” 

“I’m not coming with you,” that one was Uzui, Giyuu noted, the first familiar voice amongst strangers. Tilting his head in their direction was all he could manage, closed lids weighted shut with his fatigue. “I’m going back to my own estate.”

“But you’ve been poisoned-”

“And Nezuko Kamado ensured that I no longer am poisoned,” he cut off the kakushi, tone not allowing for any further objections. “I have to begin preparations to give my wife the funeral she deserves. Leave me be.”

None of the kakushi spoke up to him again, letting Uzui walk away. He’d said something else to them - inaudibly, but Giyuu couldn’t really tell if it was because Uzui had lowered his volume, or if the ringing in his ears was beginning to deafen him - before disappearing into the golden day.

“Tomioka!” Finally, one of the kakushi spotted him, running over before they finished yelling his name. “Are you okay?”

Humming a yes, Giyuu cracked his eyes open the slightest bit, struggling to focus on the figure in front of him in the bright sun. Their body was shrouded in sunlight; an ethereal silhouette. 

If he didn’t know better, he’d think they were an angel, and he was dead.

“You can sleep now, Tomioka,” one of them spoke over his head, grabbing his underarms. Another kakushi grabbed his feet, lifting him in unison onto a stretcher. “We’re bringing Nezuko too, don’t worry.”

Sinking into the soft fabric of the stretcher, Giyuu let the sunlight warm him deep into his bones, steady rocking of the stretcher lulling him into a light sleep.

***

“Honestly, Giyuu, I cannot believe you keep coming back here like this!” Shinobu grumbled, flicking him on the nose. “Open your eyes wide.”

Holding the brightest light he’d ever seen above his eyes, Shinobu peered deep into them, instructing him to follow her finger in different directions until she was satisfied. Frowning, she clicked her light off, placing it on his bedside table. 

“You’re not fine,” sighing, she brushed his hair from his face, inspecting for any visible bumps. “But you’re not dying. So you’ll have to wait.”

Turning sharply on her heel, Shinobu accepted tools and other accessories from Sumi, beginning to work on Inosuke. From what Giyuu could remember, Zenitsu had been screeching about him getting stabbed, but Nezuko at the very least burnt out the poison. Shinobu could fix up anyone if she wanted to.

“Thank god he’s asleep,” Aoi grumbled, wrapping bandages tight around Zenitsu’s legs. To Giyuu’s horror, he found his bed positioned between the two younger boys. Despite their current unconsciousness, the throbbing in his skull worsened at the realisation. “I couldn’t take any more of his incessant screaming.”

“Can I move back to my room?” Giyuu choked out, tripping on his words through his dry throat. 

“Stop looking so scandalised,” snorting, Shinobu tied off her final stitch in Inosuke’s chest. “You’ll be moved to the private infirmary room for pillars as soon as I’ve checked you over. Don’t worry, I’m not mean enough to let you stay between them. Especially when concussed.”

“I’m done,” tying off the last piece of bandage, Aoi wiped her hands down on her apron. “Where do you need me?”

“Prop him up, I need to check over the wound on his back,” Shinobu washed her hands thoroughly, drying them as she walked to Giyuu’s side. “Giyuu, do your best to not crush Aoi. I can call in Kanao if you need more help, so just let me know.”

She worked in near-silence, only speaking to give direction to Aoi. The tug of her needle stitching his skin closed was minimal - it should’ve hurt so much more, it always did when he had stitched himself up in the past - but she was so deft with her hands, he barely felt it. With a few light pulls, she tied the last one off, placing her hand on his shoulder to lie back down.

“Wait, pull him back up,” Aoi helped lean Giyuu forwards, exposing his newly bandaged back to Shinobu once more. “Your hair’s all matted back here, how hard did you hit your head?”

“Dunno,” Giyuu groaned, letting her angle his head in the light. “Nezuko knocked it on the ground.”

“It’s full of dry blood,” she sighed, loosening his hair from the tie. “At least I finally found what happened to your head.”

With Aoi’s help, Shinobu rigged up a hair washing station that only got his head wet. Gently, she poured water over his hair, washing out the crusty blood as softly as she could. The warm water ran down the back of his neck, before Aoi placed a towel over his shoulders to keep the bandages dry.

When she was satisfied the wound was clean, she dried off his hair, getting back to work on his other injuries. Naho climbed up onto the bed behind him, easing the knots out of his long hair. 

“You’re not as injured as I thought you might be, considering last time,” Shinobu muttered, cleaning some general blood off his skin. “You’re even conscious right now, even if only barely. But you’re still an idiot.”

“Why?” groaning, Giyuu winced as Naho got stuck on a particularly bad knot. Apologising, she gripped his hair at the scalp, minimising her tugs. 

“You keep getting so hurt for no reason,” grumbling, Shinobu threw the soiled cloths into a bucket, wiping her hands on her own apron. “It’s irritating. Stop wasting my supplies.”

Rolling his eyes beneath closed lids, Giyuu bit his tongue. It was bait, he knew it was bait, but it was still so hard to resist her taunts sometimes.

“At least I didn’t have to treat Uzui,” Naho finally finished combing through his hair, jumping off the bed behind him. She landed with a light tap, putting the brush and tie on his bed. “I would’ve made it hurt.”

“Shinobu, I told you we are fine,” pulling up a stool, Aoi sat next to him with a pile of bandages in her hands. “Giyuu stopped him from taking us.”

“That’s very appreciated,” she grumbled, pushing his hair aside and pinning it up. Aoi passed over the bandages, Shinobu beginning to wrap them around his head. “But he dared to come to my estate to kidnap my sisters to go to the entertainment district! There’s only one reason he could’ve wanted girls for this particular mission; Naho’s too young for that.”

“We don’t know for sure that’s what he was going to do!” Aoi took the other end of the bandage, passing it back and forth to Shinobu as she looped it beneath the top layer of his hair. “What if it was just to blend in as he passed through?”

“Let’s ask Giyuu, then,” fastening the bandage, Shinobu let his damp hair fall over the fabric. “Did Uzui want Aoi and Naho to pretend to be prostitutes?” 

“Yes,” Giyuu offered unhelpfully, pleased to finally be allowed to lie down again. Groaning, Aoi slumped in her stool, preparing for another tirade.

“See!” pointing in his general direction, Shinobu’s sweet tone had a bitter edge to it. “Uzui came here to force you into masquerading as a prostitute. He was going to sell you! And then make you fight an Upper Moon with him! He’s lucky he isn’t here right now, when I see him next-”

“I’m going to go see him today,” Giyuu interjected, cutting the girls off from arguing over him. Even though he remembered the injustice Uzui had committed on Shinobu and her family, Uzui had still lost his wife. Considering them to be some sort of friends now, guilt plagued Giyuu’s heart. His wife died, eaten by Daki’s sash when he was the one fighting her. It was his fault she was gone. “Do you know where his estate is?”

“You’re not going anywhere other than your private infirmary today,” huffing, Shinobu scowled down at him. “You have a concussion, so please make my life easy and rest, Giyuu.”

Staying silent, he chose not to respond. It was easier to lie in silent acceptance than argue with her through his foggy mind, to weigh up the pros and cons of him going to visit. His head throbbed at the thought of going back into the bright sunshine - Shinobu had closed all the curtains tight, despite Nezuko being asleep safe in her windowless room, so he had to assume it was for his own benefit - but he wanted to make sure his fellow pillar was okay.

Frowning to himself, Giyuu shook his head to clear his thoughts. He really must’ve hit his head hard; when was the last time he went to another’s home to check up on them of his own free will?

“Aoi, can you stay here and watch him for a moment?” Shinobu’s sweet lilting voice broke his thoughts, as he felt her gesture harshly towards him. “I’ll be right back.”

Scooting her stool closer to his bedside, Aoi leaned on the edge with her elbows. She stared for a while, at what, Giyuu didn’t know, but she kept her eye contact long and hard. 

“Thanks,” she spat out, crossing her arms tight over her chest. Her head was firmly facing the wall, a bright red blush staining the tops of her cheeks. 

“For what?” startled, Giyuu tried to push himself up onto his elbows, but the stabbing pain through his right arm slammed him flat back onto the bed. Groaning, he gave up for now.

“Lie still, you’re too injured for this,” Aoi grumbled, turning back to face him with a scowl on her face. “You’re so annoying with a concussion, I hope it heals quickly.”

“Thanks…?” confused, Giyuu drew his brows together at her concern. “But why are you thanking me?”

“For saving us,” rubbing the back of her neck, Aoi looked anywhere but at him. Wringing her apron in her fists, she opened and closed her mouth a few times in shame. “For saving me. I was scared. I’m so scared of seeing demons close up, I don’t know what I’d have done against an Upper Moon.”

“He wouldn’t have made you fight,” watching as she pulled a loose thread from her apron, Giyuu spoke slowly, trying to be careful with his words. “Not when he found out it was an Upper Moon.”

“Even so,” she whispered, clenching her fists tight. Skin stretched over her knuckles, turning white at the force. “I just want to be useful. Even though I can’t fight.”

“You are useful-”

“I’m going to write all my thoughts down in a goddamn letter, that way he can’t cover my mouth to shut me up. One of his wives will make him read this, I know they will,” Shinobu cut Giyuu off, ranting to herself as she re-entered the room with her writing utensils. “Aoi, you’re free to go now, if you’d like.”

Bowing hastily, she sped from the room, escaping their awkward conversation. Shinobu took her stool, pulling it up to sit at Giyuu’s bedside table. Laying out her paper, she set to work.

“Why are you doing that here?” After a while, Giyuu finally asked. The force of her hand was nearly tearing through the paper, scratching harsh lines into her characters as she wrote. 

“Because I can sense you’re going to be trouble with that concussion,” not even looking up from her paper, Shinobu continued writing. “Please do stay in bed, Giyuu.”

Electing not to respond, Giyuu stayed quiet. He lay in the bed, eyes closing to the rhythmic scratches of Shinobu’s words on paper, force lessening as her hand tired. Eventually, to keep himself awake - so he could sneak out before the sun set, to visit Uzui as planned - he spoke to her again.

“Where’s Nezuko?” knowing fully well she was sleeping safely behind the far door, Giyuu asked anyway. It was an easy topic; Nezuko was something Shinobu loved to talk about. 

“She’s in that room back there,” pausing, Shinobu wrung her hand out, having already filled two pages with hateful rhetoric. “You were passed out for a little bit, before you woke up all annoying. She was nodding off herself, yawning and shaking herself awake, but she still stayed with you until I came out to treat your arm. That’s why it was already cleaned and bandaged before I got to working on Inosuke. She finally agreed to go to sleep when she saw you were going to be fine.”

Smiling slightly to himself, Giyuu hummed. Nezuko was sweeter to him that he deserved.

They fell into a comfortable silence once more. Shinobu cleared a few extra pages of her angry letter, before rolling it up into a long tube and tying it off. How she expected a crow to ever be able to carry that all the way to Uzui, he wasn’t sure. 

Hopefully, she didn’t intend to hand deliver. 

Yawning, Shinobu busied herself with fussing over her patients, straightening out beds and the like. She slumped back onto her stool, smoothing Giyuu’s sheets as her eyes fluttered closed. With a sigh, Shinobu fell onto his bed, soft snores spilling from her lips. 

With bated breath, he waited. Ever so slowly, Giyuu slid the blankets off of him, slipping out of the bed. Stabilising himself, he paused, watching Shinobu for any signs of movement. When she didn’t react, he sighed in relief, shoulders loosening. Creeping behind her, Giyuu took her carefully crafted letter, pocketing it as he snuck away. Ruefully, he cast a glance back over his shoulder to Nezuko’s door, but he left anyway. She was so sleep deprived, he couldn’t bare waking her from it when she needed it to live. 

Finding a spare uniform that fit well enough, Giyuu changed from his infirmary clothes, leaving them on the ground. Without bothering to find his sword - he was aiming to come back while it was still daytime, so he wouldn’t need it, and he couldn’t fight in this state anyway - he slipped on his own shoes, leaving the estate.

The sun was harsh, rays stabbing through his eyes to his brain; piercing pain exploded behind his eyes, but he pushed forward. So long as he could stick to the shadows, it’d be tolerable. 

***

Rubbing his temples beneath his fingertips, Giyuu groaned. It was not tolerable, no matter how many shadows he found. The sun was so bright, it made everything seem like it was glowing. Anything white reflected back at him, sending another shooting wave of pain through his head. Each step he took felt like daggers stabbed through his feet, bruised and sore from overuse, but he pushed on. His arm ached, the bandages beginning to make the stab wound itch in the heat. 

Finally - with the help of a few crows to lead him in the right direction - Giyuu stumbled across the Sound Estate. It was as lavish a building as Giyuu would expect of Uzui, but he could barely stand to look at it, considering how bright of a white the outer surfaces were. 

Squinting harshly, he crept closer, trying to escape the sun. A sharp sob stopped him in his tracks. Whipping around - and wincing at the angry throb that followed his movements - Giyuu found the source of crying. Uzui’s wife sat on the stairs, her face buried into her hands. Making sure he made some noise as he walked, Giyuu wordlessly announced his presence.

The woman startled, hastily wiping her face of any tears in an attempt to hide it from him. Continuous sniffles betrayed her ministrations, but Giyuu pretended not to notice.

“Tomioka!” drying her hands on her skirt, she pushed herself to her feet. “How are you feeling?”

“Headache,” he offered, resuming his temple massage. 

“Oh, I’m sure Hinatsuru will have something to help with that!” she exclaimed, spinning on the spot. “Follow me! My name’s Suma, by the way!”

“You promised, Tengen!”

Flinching, Suma froze in place at the scream. After a moment, seemingly remembering Giyuu was still standing behind her, she spun back around. 

“Okay, I’ll just wait for a bit,” more tears bubbled over her watery eyes, but they both pretended not to notice them falling. “Why don’t we sit down out here, instead?” 

Nodding, Giyuu fell heavily onto the step, muscles aching in protest. Leaning against a column on the staircase, Giyuu tried to relax, but the screaming behind him made it all the more uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry about them,” she whispered, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. “I promise, we don’t normally fight with Tengen like this. But Hinatsuru’s just sad, and scared.”

Giyuu was sure he was going to regret prying, but until they stopped screaming long enough for Suma to stop crying, he was going to be stuck sitting outside anyway.

“Why?”

“Before we went to the red light district, Tengen made us make a promise,” wiping her face dry was futile at best, but she tried anyway, hands harshly scrubbing against her under eyes. “We were to put ourselves first, then civilians, then him last. That order specifically. Once we left, he said he’d retire, and whoever was still alive would all live peacefully together with no regrets.”

“I can’t forgive myself for letting her die like that!”

Suma flinched harshly again, curling up over her knees. She hugged them tight to her chest, fingernails digging deep into her skin. Giyuu shifted in place, uncomfortable at the position he had put himself in already. He’d known it’d be bad, but relationship troubles were the last thing he was prepared to deal with.

“Tengen said he’s not retiring anymore, when we finished treating him,” Suma hiccuped, tears finally slowing a little. “Said he can’t forgive himself for what happened to Makio, and he wouldn’t stop until Muzan was dead.”

With a sigh, Giyuu got to his feet. Leaning heavily on the column behind him, he righted his balance, climbing up the rest of the stairs.

“Tomioka! What are you doing?” rushing up after him, Suma tugged lightly on his left sleeve, only hard enough to get his attention, rather than actually pulling him. “You don’t want to get in the middle of that."

No. No he really, really did not. But he was here, so he might as well.

Shaking off her hold lightly, Giyuu kept walking up the stairs. The pair arguing inside were inaudible for the most part; each word muffled by the thick walls of Uzui’s estate. Every step closer made Giyuu’s shoulders slump further and further down. He was going to regret this choice. 

But he’d brought Shinobu’s letter all this way, he had to make sure it was read.

“Makio agreed with us!” Hinatsuru screamed, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Her skin was blotchy, reddening in her grief and anger. “We would all retire once that mission was over, no matter who was alive at the end!”

“I can’t just lounge around at the estate, doing nothing for the rest of my life while Muzan is still out there,” Uzui ran a hand down his face heavily, leaning his back against the wall behind him. “I know what I promised. I know. But I’d said it, thinking I’d be able to save you all. This was never in my plans.”

“So you’re just going to break that promise, when she’s no longer here to call you out on it?” sniffling loudly, Hinatsuru wrapped her arms around herself in a hug. Suma snuck out from behind Giyuu, rubbing her back in a comforting manner. “Who cares that Muzan is still out there? The demon that killed her is dead. That’s all that matters!”

“It’s not,” sighing, Uzui scraped his hair back from his face. “We are already down two pillars. Rengoku’s dead, Shinazugawa is god knows where, doing god knows what as a demon. If I know him as well as I think I do, he’s not going to be some pacifist demon who refuses to kill.”

“Why’s that our problem?” Hinatsuru accepted the handkerchief Suma offered her, daintily wiping the tears away from beneath her eyes. “You’ve been a pillar for years. They can promote another, someone’s gotta have a tsuguko. Doesn’t Kocho have one?”

“She’d never allow her sister to be promoted while she’s still alive,” shaking his head, Uzui kicked off the wall, walking over to his wife. Giyuu shuffled on his feet, uncomfortable watching the scene before him. “No one else has a tsuguko, except maybe Tomioka - dunno if Nezuko counts - and none of the trainees are good enough. I have to stay.”

Sobbing into her hands, Hinatsuru didn’t respond. Uzui let his hand rest on her head for a moment, before pulling her into a tight hug. Suma joined them both, wrapping her arms around the pair.

“I’m sorry for letting her die,” Uzui whispered, kissing the top of Hinatsuru’s head. Turning on his heel, Giyuu made to leave, but stopped when he was addressed. “And Tomioka, I’m sorry we were arguing in front of you. Please, sit down.”

Breathing heavily, Giyuu walked to where Uzui was gesturing. Limbs protesting in exhaustion, he slid down the wall to sit on the floor. 

“I’m so sorry, you’re a guest, we should’ve stopped as soon as you came in,” flustered, Hinatsuru blew her nose loudly, smoothing her hair back into its normally neat ponytail. “You must be exhausted after yesterday! And in pain, too! Sit tight, I’ll brew up some tea that’ll help with all of that.”

Breaking into almost a run, Hinatsuru rushed out of the room. 

“So, Tomioka,” Uzui sat opposite him, Suma exiting the room to help Hinatsuru with whatever she was doing. “I’m glad you came, but why today?”

“Wanted to escape Shinobu,” rubbing at his temple again, Giyuu groaned. She would be so mad when he came back. “She thinks I’m annoying when I’m concussed.”

“Pretty sure she thinks you’re annoying all of the time,” Uzui laughed, but accepted his explanation anyway. “I had something to ask you, anyway. What was up with that mark on your face, that popped up toward the end of the fight this morning?”

“What mark?” wracking his brain, Giyuu tilted his head in confusion. He’d never caught a glimpse of his own face, and he couldn’t remember anyone else ever saying anything. 

“You know, the one that looked like water,” gesturing to his own cheek, Uzui circled about the position he remembered it to be in. “It was around here, and it just popped up out of nowhere. It’s gone now, too.”

“I don’t know,” scratching that cheek, he tried to remember when it could’ve popped up, but his mind was foggy. Exhaustion tinged his vision black, lids threatening to slip closed now that he was out of the bright sunlight. “Maybe it’s what made me stronger?”

“Made you stronger?” Uzui frowned at him, tilting his own head. “How do you mean?”

“It felt like I had a fever, and my heart was beating faster than it should’ve,” he began, clearing his throat. “Then I could move even faster than before, swing my blade harder than I should’ve been able to. That kind of thing.”

“Huh,” scratching his neck, Uzui shrugged. “Weird. Wonder if we can all get that.”

Hinatsuru came back in, her and Suma both carrying trays of tea and cups, as well as a cup of broth. Passing the broth over to Giyuu, she set her tray down, taking a seat next to them.

“This is for your pain,” she gestured to the broth that he was inspecting wearily. “It won’t make you drowsy, since it’s the middle of the day.”

Nodding his thanks, Giyuu drank it in one go, the bitter taste of medicinal herbs burning his throat as he swallowed. With a wince, he passed the cup back over to her, which she replaced with sweet, steaming tea.

“Tomioka,” Uzui began, taking a sip of his own tea. “Where’s Nezuko Kamado?”

“I left her at the Butterfly Estate,” following suit, Giyuu cupped his own tea between his hands. The boiling liquid warmed his hands comfortingly, soothing the aches and blisters from his sword. “She needed sleep.”

“Well, I’ll have to trust you to pass this on to her then,” smiling, Uzui passed his cup back to Hinatsuru, who filled it up again to the brim. “I accept her as a member of the demon slayer corps.”

Blinking at him in shock, Giyuu’s cup stilled halfway to his mouth. In a meagre attempt to hide his shock, he quickly raised it to his lips, taking a long drink. Of all people, he did not expect Uzui to turn on Nezuko so quickly - the only one who would be more shocking at this point would be Iguro, who’d rather slit his own throat than say anything about acceptance in Giyuu’s general vicinity - but he was grateful. The more pillars on their side, the easier their time would be.

“Thank you,” he hummed, watching as the tea ripped from the breath in his words. Waving him off, Uzui skulled the rest of his tea as though it were sake, clapping his hand on his knee.

“Well, you had to come here for a reason,” he rested his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin on his palm. “Spill it.”

Opting to pass over Shinobu’s letter instead of speaking, Giyuu watched as Uzui untied the paper, flattening it on his lap. Occasionally, his eyes would widen, and he’d choke back a startled noise, or he’d hide a laugh behind a cough. By the time he got to the fifth and final page of her rage-infused manifesto, sweat began to bead on his brow.

“She’s so full of anger for such a tiny person,” Uzui rolled the letter back up, tying it securely with string. “This was quite the impassioned note.”

“What did she say?” Suma tried to reach for the letter, but Uzui held it out of reach.

“Many, many things,” he tucked the roll into his kimono for safekeeping, foiling Suma’s plans. “She rather scientifically described how she would castrate me if I tried to touch her sisters without their express permission on one of the pages. She also went on a tangent describing all of the different poisons she could make, and how agonising they would be burning through my veins if I even dreamt of taking them near a red light district. It was rather creative, actually. She’s got a talent for wordplay.”

Suma retracted her hand, suddenly looking a little pale. Shinobu’s reputation preceded her, when it came to medicine especially. It didn’t take a stretch of the imagination to believe Uzui’s words.

“Well, please let her know I read every word, and that every single one came across loud and clear,” taking Hinatsuru’s proffered third cup of tea, he busied himself with drinking that as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Do you need a treat or something, for being her personal messenger crow?”

Giyuu scowled at his comment, turning to face the wall. Laughing uproariously, Uzui leaned over to clap him on the shoulder. 

“Was there anything else you were after?” ruffling his hair like a child, Uzui snickered as Giyuu batted his hand away. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save Makio,” staring deep into his empty cup, Giyuu felt the mood drop. Uzui’s laughter had merely been gluing the wound shut, a temporary fix. His words tore the wound wide open, sprinkling a little salt in for good measure. “I was the one fighting Daki at the time. If I’d cut her head earlier-”

“It would have done no good,” Uzui cut him off, placing his hand firmly on his shoulder. Giving it a firm squeeze, he waited until Giyuu looked him in the eye. “We had to cut their heads simultaneously. You couldn’t have done anything about the sashes when it happened.”

“Even to distract her-”

“Was my sole responsibility,” Uzui cut him off, squeezing his shoulder once more. It ached, but not in a sharp, painful way. It was comforting. “I am her husband. It was my duty to protect her, and I failed. I was the pillar that sent her there in the first place. I was the one who saw her die. I was the one who failed her.”

Breath hitching, a flash of lavender eyes. Naoe’s head, rolling to a stop by his feet. His fault.

It was his fault. 

“We all have our burdens to bear, and Makio is mine,” finally letting him go, Uzui took the now-empty cup from his hands, passing it back to Hinatsuru. “You have more than enough to manage on your own, you can’t take on the weight of the world.”

“We don’t blame you at all,” Suma sniffled, tugging on Giyuu’s left arm once more. “Nor do we blame Tengen!”

“You and Nezuko saved me, so I extend my thanks to you, Tomioka,” Hinatsuru passed him a newly-filled cup, smiling softly. “Please, let us feel the guilt for Makio. She doesn’t need to haunt you, too.”

Overwhelmed, Giyuu kept his head down, staring deep into the clear tea. If he squinted, he could almost see his reflection in it; cheeks flushed from the sudden praise and acceptance. Rising to his feet, he stretched out his aching legs, preparing to leave. Uzui stood next to him, following suit. 

“I really misjudged you, Tomioka,” Uzui clapped him on the back so hard his tea spilled onto the floor, Hinatsuru and Suma gasping as it splashed. “You’re not a self-absorbed egoist, you’re just shy. You’re welcome to come back around any time - maybe next time without the threatening letter from Kocho, okay?”

Nodding, Giyuu downed the last bit of tea that was saved from Uzui’s force, letting Hinatsuru take it from his hands. 

“I apologise for fighting in front of you,” bowing her head, Hinatsuru held the cup tight in shaky hands. “It was inappropriate, and uncomfortable. Please forgive me.”

“It’s fine,” with his left hand, Giyuu scratched the back of his neck. “I didn’t announce my visit anyway.”

“I’m sorry for crying so much!” Suma jumped on him, tugging on his right arm hard. White hot pain shot up his arm, stitches tearing free of the skin they were lodged in. Hissing, Giyuu grabbed his arm, pulling up the sleeve. Blood was flowing on the bandages, staining the white fabric red. “Oh gods, I’m so sorry!”

“Suma!” Hinatsuru scolded, taking Giyuu’s arm into her hands. “I told you to be careful about grabbing people!”

“I’m sorry!” she wailed, tugging on Hinatsuru’s arm instead. “Please forgive me!”

Nodding, Giyuu looked up at her briefly. Freeing his arm from Hinatsuru’s grip, he ripped off the bandages, tying them in a knot just above the bleeding wound.

“I’m going back to the Butterfly Estate anyway,” he shrugged off their concern, feeling blood flow out of the wound, gathering in his hand. It trickled down his fingers, dripping onto the ground. “Shinobu will fix it.”

“Will you even make it back?” Uzui eyed the wound suspiciously, one eyebrow raised. “That’s bleeding pretty bad.”

“It’s fine,” turning on his heel, he walked out. They followed him, making sure he made it down the stairs fine. Seeing him walking straight - no wobbling from blood loss - they hesitantly let him go, making him promise to tell them that he arrived. 

***

Stumbling through the forest, Giyuu leaned up against a tree. The bark was rough, scratching the skin on his cheek, but he paid it no mind. His vision was blackening around the edges, already throbbing head pounding and woozy. Injured arm scraping past forest floor foliage, he shuffled his feet through the undergrowth, trying not to trip on any hidden roots. Blood was dripping from the wound, leaving a sick candy trail up to an easy meal, but he forced himself to keep going.

Perhaps he should’ve stayed at the Sound Estate.

Finally, the familiar gates of the Butterfly Estate came into view. Giyuu had enough sense about him to shut the gate firm after his entry, kicking his shoes off at the front door. Shuffling through the hallways, he squinted. It was all just too bright, the lights were so harsh.

Were the hallways always this maze-like?

Tripping over his own foot, Giyuu fell hard onto the ground. He tried to sit back up, but his sweaty palms slipped on the wooden floor, garnering no traction. With a sigh, he gave up, pressing his feverish cheek to the cool ground. Taking a nap here wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

***

Groaning, Giyuu shifted in place. His side was so very warm, unnaturally so. It felt like a little fire was set next to him, only burning one half of his clothing, but that didn’t sound right. Fires couldn’t only burn one half of your clothes, could they?

Cracking open one eye, Giyuu saw Nezuko curled into a little ball, hiding from the sun beneath his haori. It was nearing sunset, from what he could tell through his lashes; almost safe enough for her to be out. But not yet.

So how did she get there?

Throwing his arm over his eyes, he blocked the sun back out. It didn’t really matter how she got there. Not right now, anyway. She wasn’t burnt, and she was sleeping. That was the important thing. 

If she wanted to sleep on him, for safety, or even just comfort, then he’d stay on the floor with her forever.

***

“Oh gods, I’m sorry!” Aoi shrieked, landing hard on her hands next to Giyuu’s head. She’d kicked his ankle hard, tripping over his prone body. Scrambling, she flung herself off of him, sitting on her shins. Frantic, her hands ghosted over Giyuu, brushing his hair away from his face. Whimpering, she pulled up one of his eyelids, only to be interrupted by a low groan.

“Are you okay?” rubbing his eye that she’d opened, Giyuu peered up at her through the other. Aoi had slumped over upon herself, sighing in relief.

“I thought you were dead!” grabbing him firmly by the shoulders, her usually aggressive demeanour returned. “What were you doing sleeping in the hallway!”

“I passed out,” Giyuu shrugged noncommittally, letting her shake him a little. Nezuko nuzzled closer into his side, gripping tight to his uniform. 

“Why were you even out of bed in the first place?” Aoi’s tone was rising in pitch, getting more and more hysterical as she got a grasp of the situation. “Shinobu was so mad when she saw you’d left, you’re gonna be in for it now!”

Groaning again, Giyuu closed his eyes tight. Maybe it would’ve been easier had he actually been dead in the hallway.

“Oh my gods, you’re bleeding everywhere, I’m gonna go get her,” giving him another once over, Aoi deemed him safe enough to leave as is, until she could come back with Shinobu. “Stay put. Nezuko, watch him.”

Covering his eyes with his forearm, Giyuu silently agreed with her commands. Nezuko, with a light yawn, raised her head from his side, sitting up. Shuffling, she manoeuvred herself beneath Giyuu, letting his head rest on her lap. Softly, she hummed, running her fingers through Giyuu’s hair, nails lightly scraping against his scalp. Weariness took over his body, slumping into Nezuko as much as he could. 

“What do you mean he’s bleeding out in my hallway?”

With a start, Giyuu sat upright, as stiff as a board. Shinobu’s voice was low, an aggravated rasp beling her usually simpering tone. A chill crept its way up his spine as stomping footsteps echoed ever so closer.

He was so in for it now.

“Giyuu, how nice of you to join us!” despite how loud she had been stomping in the distance, she crept up on him as silently as her beloved butterflies in the garden did. “How gracious of you to indulge us in your presence once more. Really, we are so grateful.”

“I told you I was going,” weakly, he tried to defend himself from her wrath. The withering glare she shot at him told him it was futile.

“Honestly, what am I going to do with you?” sighing, she lost her angry shell, sitting next to him on the floor. “Are you okay to walk on your own?”

“Haven’t tried,” shrugging, Giyuu moved to stand, but wobbled violently on his hands. “Maybe not.”

“Nezuko, could you prop him up?” nodding quickly, she jumped to her feet. Taking his hands into her own, Nezuko pulled Giyuu up, wrapping his arm around her shoulder like she had done just that morning. “Aoi, grab his other side. There’s a lot of blood on the floor.”

Silently, Giyuu shuffled back to the infirmary. His feet dragged on the floor, Nezuko doing most of the heavy lifting of actually moving his body for him. Aoi grunted, the minimal weight he rested on her almost too much for her small body to handle.

Finally, the four of them managed to get into the private infirmary room Shinobu had promised he would have. Sighing in relief, he let them drag him to the bed, peeling off his haori and shirt when he got there.

“I just got the blood out of this last time,” Aoi grumbled, throwing his haori into the corner to deal with later. “You’re a laundry menace.”

Wincing, Giyuu silently apologised to her. He really did give her a lot of bloodstained clothes. 

“How did you pop these?” Shinobu tutted at him, neatly pulling the broken stitches from his arm. She wiped the wound clean, disinfecting it harshly. When Giyuu flinched, hissing, she just pressed the alcohol to the wound harder.

“Suma jumped on me,” he forced the words through gritted teeth, muscles tensing involuntarily at the pain. Eventually, Shinobu relented her assault on his wound, deeming it clean enough to stitch closed. It hurt, the needle pushing its way through his skin, tugging the stitch taut, but it was so much less than when he used to attempt to do it himself.

“Who is Suma?” tying off the final stitch, Shinobu took the proffered bandages from Aoi’s hands, passing her the soiled tools. Gently, she wound the cloth over his injury, sealing it away from view. “One of Uzui’s wives?”

“Yeah,” clenching his fist, Giyuu tested her stitches. They were perfect, as always, barely any pain shooting up his arm at the action. “I gave him your letter.”

“Oh?” cleaning off her hands, Shinobu pulled up a stool next to his bed. “And did he read it?”

“Every word,” Giyuu nodded, relaxing his arm on the blanket. “He said you were very creative.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” smiling sweetly, her tone betrayed the innocent look on her face. “He will remember it clearly the next time he thinks about coming near my sisters for anything untoward, ever again.”

Giyuu shuddered, saying nothing more. While he didn’t read the letter himself, he knew Shinobu well enough to be able to imagine some of what she might have said. Vividly. 

“Giyuu,” Shinobu started, voice back to its normal sickly sweet tone. “Will you promise me to at the very least stay within the grounds of the Butterfly Estate until your concussion heals? Nezuko was frantic when she realised you were gone, she woke me up in a panic.”

Guilt stabbed Giyuu’s heart at the thought. Nezuko was draped over the bottom of his bed, playing with the loose strings hanging from the edge of the blanket. She seemed tense, refusing to sleep. Instead, every time he shuffled, or moved in any way, her eyes flickered to check on him, resuming playing with her string when she saw he was staying put.

“I’ll stay,” he confirmed, smoothing the blanket over his lap to avoid her eyes. Humming contentedly, Shinobu sat back on her stool.

“Not that I don’t trust you - but I really don’t trust you, please know this - someone’s going to sit with you at all times, until your concussion heals. Nezuko is not included in the roster,” Shinobu cut off his protests before he could open his mouth. With a huff, he crossed his arms over his chest, settling in to the bed. 

A knock echoed through the room. Sumi poked her head through the door, coming in when Shinobu beckoned her over. 

“You take this seat, Sumi,” sliding off the stool, Shinobu gathered up the things Aoi hadn’t been able to carry with her. “Sleep, Giyuu.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone with his guard. Uneasily, he looked back over at Sumi, finding her staring straight back at him. Smiling wide, she lifted the book in her lap high enough for him to see.

“Don’t worry, I brought a book so I won’t be watching you,” she smiled even brighter, flipping the book open to a marked page. “If you want, I can move to the corner so the lantern isn’t so bright?”

“It’s fine,” Giyuu lay on his back, sinking deep into the covers. Pulling them even higher, almost above his eyes, he relaxed, feeling the weight of her eyes leave his form.

Finally, he let himself sleep.

***

Stretching stiffly, Giyuu yawned. The moon shone bright outside, the thick, dark curtains having been pulled open to let in the night air. Nezuko sat by the window, staring up at the moon, hair swishing in the breeze. Her green and yellow butterfly clip glinted on the back of her head, pulling some of the hair back from her face.

“Tomioka, you’re awake!” Sumi looked up from her heavy book, smile growing on her face when she saw him looking at her. “You were asleep for two whole days!”

“Were you sat here the whole time?” concerned, Giyuu squinted, trying to get a better look at her. She didn’t seem too tired, but he couldn’t really tell. 

“No, we all swapped out a whole rotation,” she was much further into her book than she had been when he fell asleep, Giyuu noted, watching her mark her page and close the large covers. Seeing him stare at the book, she tilted her head, holding it close to her chest. “It’s a medical book Shinobu is loaning me. We are all taking turns reading it, to get a better and deeper understanding of medicine to help out more!”

All of the girls that worked for her were so dedicated, so loyal. Giyuu nodded mutely, watching as she dropped it on the bedside table with a bang. 

“Is there anything you’d like to do tonight?” sliding off the stool, Sumi stood next to him where he lay. “You’re free to walk around and go outside, so long as it’s only to the garden.”

“Can I go out there?” wistfully, he stared out the window, longing to feel the breeze Nezuko was enjoying. Sumi nodded, helping him to sit up. “I want to write some letters.”

“I’ll bring out the materials to you,” she smiled, hovering as he slid out of the bed. Slippers had been laid out on the floor for him, a cup of water passed over as soon as he was steady on his feet. His head throbbed, throat dry from two days of rest. Thinking clearer than he could remember last, Giyuu downed the glass in one go, wiping the excess from the corners of his mouth. With a smile, Sumi took the cup from him, setting it down before leading him outside.

“Just stay put here, I’ll send out the letter materials,” waving to him - and Nezuko, who had scampered after them as soon as she noticed Giyuu moving - she disappeared into the house. Giyuu sighed, staring up at the moon. Finally, a moment where he wasn’t being watched.

Well, Nezuko was watching him, but she didn’t count. Her presence wasn’t one that drained him, anyway. 

“Tomioka!” Kiyo came running outside, mere moments after her sister had left. “Here are your materials!” 

Nodding in thanks, he took the board she’d stacked everything on. Drafting up a letter to Urokodaki, he kept his words brief, only saying they’d killed an Upper Moon, and Nezuko was doing far better than she had been the last time they met. 

Urokodaki wouldn’t expect more from him anyway. Before he’d taken Nezuko in, Giyuu had left all of his teacher’s letters to go unanswered.

As soon as he finished folding it up, Kiyo took it from him, tying the paper around a nearby crow’s leg. She whispered to it the recipient, throwing it in the air to fly away.

“Who are you writing to next?” she smiled brightly, shuffling a little closer to look at his paper. Finding it blank, she scooted back away.

“I was going to tell Oyakata about the mission, and then put in a request for a new sword for Nezuko,” cautiously, he eyed her, but Kiyo made no moves to scoot closer again.

“Ah, Shinobu sent those out for you!” smiling wide, Kiyo watched as Nezuko plonked herself down directly in front of the younger girl. The butterfly in her hair had shifted messily, Kiyo automatically reaching for it to adjust. “She also requested for a new uniform for Nezuko, because hers was all cut up. So you don’t have to worry about those!”

Shinobu did it for him?

Shaking his head, he shook the thought away. Her secret kindness wasn’t something he should dwell on for long, lest embarrassment begin to creep its way up his spine. Pulling out a fresh piece of paper, he mulled over how to word his next letter. 

Mr Rengoku,

Would you be able to tell me all you know about the original breath styles? Let me know what time is appropriate to meet.

Giyuu Tomioka

“Your letters are just as short as your speech is!” Kiyo giggled, seeing the few sentences he wrote on the paper before he folded it up. Handing it to her, she tied it around the next crow’s leg, sending it off to the Flame Estate.

“It has to be short enough for a crow to carry,” Giyuu pulled out another piece of paper, letting it sit blank before him. Nezuko had grown bored, plucking grass out of the ground, throwing it over the three of them. “I don’t know him, so there isn’t anything else to say.”

Kiyo giggled to herself, not commenting any further. Silently, Giyuu stared at the blank page, never moving to mark it with ink. He didn’t know what to say, how to word what he felt.

Finally, he addressed it to the Tokito house, but he paused after he wrote the name.

“Tokito house?” Kiyo leaned in, curious as to why he stopped writing. “What do you want to tell them?”

“That I’m sorry,” he ducked his head, hiding his shame from the young girl beside him. Venting his feelings to a child was embarrassing, but she was so comforting; a true nurse at heart.

“Well, why don’t you just write that?” plucking some loose grass off of his paper, she leaned back away, giving him space. “If they know it’s coming from you, then no one expects anything more. It’s authentic that way.”

With a little more resolve, Giyuu followed her advice. He apologised to them, for the damage he caused to their town, their establishment, Naoe. Unable to bring himself to write anything more, he didn’t sign it off, rather passing it away as is. Kiyo didn’t comment, folding up the paper for him, sending away the last crow lying around. 

“All done?” breaking the silence, Kiyo moved to take the board from him, but Giyuu shook his head. Clutching it tighter to his chest, he stayed unmoving, not even pulling out another page. “Do you want to send another? We don’t have any other crows, so it’ll have to wait.”

“There’s no one to receive it,” he mumbled, staring at the empty board before him. “Don’t need a crow.”

“Ah,” quietly, Kiyo hummed to herself, before clapping her hands excitedly. “If they can’t receive it here, then why don’t you send it on to them where they are?”

Confused, Giyuu frowned at her, but she wasn’t deterred. “Why don’t we set it on fire?”

There was something odd about Shinobu’s girls and burning things. Unsure whether to be concerned or not, Giyuu felt the familiar throbs of a headache creeping out from behind Shinobu’s medicines. He’d have to go back inside soon, but a little ritualistic burning didn’t sound so bad. 

“Okay.”

Kiyo jumped up, leaving Nezuko to throw around even more grass as she gathered Shinobu’s oil and matches. Setting up for a small fire, she busied herself with setting stones around the outside, so the grass wouldn’t burn. 

Scribbling messily, Giyuu poured his heart out on the page; incoherent apologies and streams of guilt lining the once-stark paper in bleeding black ink. He didn’t address it - there was no point, not really - but it was for one person. That much was certain. 

He’d gotten her killed, so an apology was the least he could do for her now. 

Folding it up, as though to tie it to a crow’s leg, Giyuu finished off the letter. Setting aside the board, he stood, Nezuko following curiously. 

“Wait for me!” Naho came running outside, holding letters of her own. “Are we burning letters for the dead?”

“Just in time!” smiling, Kiyo beckoned her over, taking some of the stack from her full hands. “Are these everyone’s?”

“Shinobu passed them over, so I think so!” taking her place next to Nezuko, Naho smiled at them all. “Kanae’s got so much to read this time, she will be so happy!”

Throwing the stack of letters in her hands into the flame, Naho took the lead. Kiyo followed suit, tossing them all in at once. Hands empty, both girls turned expectantly to Giyuu, eyeing the paper in his hands. Baffled at their tradition, but moved that they thought to include him in it, he tossed the letter to Naoe in the flames, watching as the paper curled and blackened in the heat.

“I’m sure they’ll get to read it, now,” Kiyo nodded up at him, warming her hands on the small flame. “If you think of more people to write to, let us know. We do these burnings often, so you can feel free to join in!”

“Thank you,” mumbling, he nodded back to her. Putting a hand on Nezuko’s head, Giyuu watched the flames crackle on the single piece of wood Kiyo had chosen to burn. The bark cracked, crumbling into ashes, mingling with those of the paper they’d set alight. Ever so slowly, the wood burnt down to nothing, only the glowing embers remaining. 

“Okay, now that that’s burnt, can you put the rest out, Kiyo?” Naho clapped her hands, turning away from the embers. Nodding, Kiyo ran off to grab some water. Nezuko nuzzled Giyuu’s still hand, grumbling until he ruffled her hair. “It’s time for bed for the both of you, Shinobu’s orders.”

Rolling his eyes, Giyuu relented, following the young girl back into the estate. She led them back into the infirmary room, setting up the same stool her sister had been using the night prior. She too pulled out a book - equally as large, but not the same - flipping it open to a page so she wouldn’t stare at him all night. Nezuko curled up on the bed next to his, hiding her head completely beneath the covers. Sighing, Giyuu followed suit, soft sounds of pages turning lulling him to sleep.

***

“Can I get a little space?” Giyuu sighed, slumping his shoulders. Today it was Sumi who skipped along behind him, staying a respectful distance away, but still present. “I’m not a prisoner.”

“Yes you are!” smiling, she clapped her hands loudly. The sun shone bright through the windows, so he couldn’t even bring Nezuko along with him as a reprieve from the tiny wardens. “Shinobu’s!”

Slumping even further, Giyuu sighed. Uncomfortable, he scratched at the stitches on his arm. They’d gotten itchy lately, feeling a little hot under the bandages, but nothing worth bringing up to Shinobu. He hoped. Invoking her wrath yet again was the last thing on his agenda. 

Peering through the gap in the door to the regular infirmary room, he found both Zenitsu and Inosuke still dead asleep. Naho was checking over them both, adjusting their bandages and making sure they stayed hydrated in their sleep. Closing the door softly, he moved away. Even the two of them - despite being a constant headache, and way too loud - would alleviate his boredom at least a little. 

Shinobu had the audacity to imprison him in her home, and leave him there alone while she left for multi-day stretches with Kanao. He was getting stir crazy. 

“Tomioka!” Aoi called out to him from the other end of the hallway, holding a stack of clothes in her arms. “Are you bored?” 

At his nod, she beckoned him over as best she could with overflowing arms. Sumi didn’t follow, trusting Aoi to keep an eye on their prisoner for the next little while.

“I fixed your clothes. Again,” thrusting out his haori and uniform, Giyuu took the bundle from her hands. “Nezuko’s haori is in there too. I managed to salvage that, but her uniform was shredded.”

“That’s fine,” following her into his room, Giyuu set the clothes down on his bed, leaving quickly. “Thanks for fixing them.”

“Don’t mind,” she waved him off, walking into a different infirmary room. She stripped the beds there quickly, shoving the dirtied sheets into his arms. Quickly, she peeked through the door, looking both ways, leaving it slightly ajar after her. “Put all the sheets in that bag in the corner.”

By the time he’d managed to open the bag, Aoi finished up another bed. Running back to the door, she checked both ways. Satisfied with what she saw - or didn’t see - she sighed in relief, leaving the door ajar. The routine continued; every bed she finished, no matter what room, she checked the hall.

Finally, when they entered the fifth infirmary room, Giyuu had had enough.

“What are you doing?” she’d deliberately propped the door open, so it couldn’t shut them in. It wasn’t as though he minded it being ajar, but Aoi was so tense, it made him watch his own back. 

“I,” fisting the sheets in her hands, Aoi hunched her shoulders up to her neck. “I just get wary, when Shinobu and Kanao leave.”

“Why?” Giyuu frowned, confused. She was more than equipped to handle any medical emergency on her own, so he didn’t know what made her so scared.

“I’m the oldest, so I’m in charge,” smoothing out the wrinkles she’d made, she picked imaginary threads off of the fabric. “I’m the only demon slayer left in the estate. If a demon somehow managed to break in, it’s up to me to protect my sisters and the patients.”

Faintly, Giyuu saw a tremor in her hands. She splayed out her fingers, pushing more weight on them to quell the quaking. 

“Our estates are some of the most protected buildings in Japan,” pulling up a stool, Giyuu adjusted his collar. Hair was sticking to the back of his neck, sweat beading where the clothing was the thickest. “The Butterfly Estate is among the most protected of our estates. No demon will come here uninvited.”

“I guess so,” spreading out the sheet on the bed, Aoi resumed her task. “But what if one did, right now?”

“I’m here,” pushing his hair from his sweaty forehead, Giyuu sighed. “So you don’t have to fight.”

“But you’re so injured!” Aoi whipped around, aghast. Gesturing to all of him, she frowned. “Your right arm is basically useless right now, you’re concussed, it’s too dangerous!”

“I’m a pillar, that doesn’t matter,” shrugging, Giyuu leant back against the wall his stool sat near. “I’ll just use my left hand. Can’t be too hard.”

Aoi’s frown turned into a scowl, but she finished making the bed with extra vigour. Every bed she finished, she stared at the door, but steeled herself when she saw Giyuu sitting next to it. 

“Are you bothering Aoi?” Shinobu’s voice echoed through his ear, breath fanning out over his skin. Concealing his surprise, Giyuu sighed, closing his eyes. “Stop bothering everyone.”

“You locked me up in here, what else am I supposed to do?” crossing his arms over his chest, Giyuu ignored the sweat trickling down his neck. “I’m not even doing anything.”

“That’s my point!” clapping her hands next to her cheek, Shinobu gave him a closed eye smile. “If you’re going to sit in with everyone, help out.”

As though she’d never been there in the first place, she was gone. Giyuu barely saw her move, a glimpse of white slipping through the helpfully ajar door. Rolling his eyes, he jumped off the stool, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

“I’m done with the beds now, so you can just help us fold up the sheets I’ve already washed,” Aoi took one of the full laundry bags from him, leaving him to carry the other. She glared pointedly when he picked it up with his right hand, only turning away when he used his left. “Kanao should be there now.”

Silently, he followed behind the younger girl. Fanning himself, Giyuu furrowed his brows. It was so hot, but no one else seemed affected by it. It felt as though he were sitting too close to a fire, heat searing from his core out. 

Aoi took the other bag from him, ushering him into the room empty-handed. Kanao stood next to a pile of tangled sheets, a light flush to her cheeks.

“What happened?” Aoi eyed the pile, then Kanao. “Did you try to do them on your own?”

Nodding silently, Kanao brought her thumb to her lips. Ashamed, she bit into the skin, staring down at her mess. Aoi sighed, setting down the dirty laundry.

“It’s not a big deal, we will just do it together,” digging through the fabric, she found a corner of the sheet. “Tomioka, hold this for me.”

She passed the corner directly into his left hand, not letting him use his right. Rolling his eyes, Giyuu let her do as she pleased. 

After they’d folded the first sheet, Kanao made unsteady eye contact with him, waiting for Aoi to pass around more corners of the next sheet. 

“We were all worried when we found out where you’d gone,” she whispered, breaking her eye contact frequently, cheeks flushing. “You got so hurt last time, it was so scary.” 

“He’s fine, Kanao,” taking the folded sheet from them, Aoi stacked it with the rest, digging through the knot Kanao made once more. 

“I know, but Shinobu was so nervous!” fiddling with her hands, Kanao watched Aoi’s movements, eyes flicking back up to Giyuu. “She asked Oyakata, when you took Nezuko in, if we could take on your pillar duties. Because Shinobu’s the only one with a tsuguko, he agreed. That’s why we are always gone, we do your patrol area too.”

Startled, Giyuu stared at her, wide eyed. He’d been slacking on his pillar duties lately, with how long he’d been taking to recover from all the injuries, and chasing the threads Tanjiro had left for Nezuko’s cure. Now that he thought about it, it was weird no one pulled him up on it yet. But to find out Shinobu had done that for them…

“You’re so bad at keeping secrets, Kanao,” Aoi finally untangled the last sheet, passing them both a corner each. “But she’s telling the truth. Everyone wants Nezuko to become a human again, so we are all doing our part to lessen your load.”

Giyuu opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say. It was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for him, but Shinobu never said a word, letting her deed go unthanked. 

“Hey, are you okay?” taking the sheet from him, Aoi inspected his face. “You’re flushed, and sweaty. Bend down a bit?”

At her request, Giyuu bent at the waist, just enough for her to feel his forehead. As soon as her hand touched his skin, she recoiled, startled. 

“You’re violently feverish,” grabbing his wrist, she looked back to Kanao, who dropped the linen in her hands. “Come on.”

Dragging him back to his room, Aoi forced him to lay in bed. Turning on the lantern on the bedside table as bright as it would go, she fussed herself with smoothing the blanket over his body.

“My, my, what’s this I hear about a fever?” Shinobu walked in the room, followed closely by a worried Kanao. “Say ‘aah’.” 

Mimicking how she opened her mouth, Giyuu droned out a bored ‘aah’, letting her slip a thermometer beneath his tongue. It sat for a moment, Shinobu watching closely until she was satisfied.

“You’re burning up,” passing off the tool to Aoi, she frowned, tapping her cheek with one finger. “Is it just illness, or an infection? Has one of your wounds been itchy or uncomfortable?”

“My arm,” limply, he lifted the arm in question, glaring at it. 

“The one with the popped stitches,” frowning, Shinobu took his arm, unravelling the bindings. She winced at the sight, turning to Aoi. “Can you get everything we need to drain the wound, and the iodine?”

Without another word, Aoi ran from the room, coming back as quick as she left. At her heavy footsteps, Nezuko started. Climbing out from her bed, she shuffled over, running her fingers through his hair. Concerned, Nezuko took his hand into her own, squeezing when Aoi set up their supplies.

As Shinobu got to work, Aoi passed Nezuko a cold cloth. She wiped it over his face, settling the coldest side on his forehead. Through the feverish haze, Giyuu groaned, staring up at her. The soft frown, the stroking of his hair. His vision doubled, Nezuko’s visage becoming seemingly more and more like Tsutako’s. 

“Aw, Giyuu,” Tsutako cooed, holding his left hand in her own. With her free one, she stroked his hair away from his face, changing the cloth for a new, cooler one. “You’ll feel better soon enough.”

“This might sting,” Shinobu squeezed his upper arm comfortingly, Nezuko tightening her grip on his other hand. Wincing, Giyuu bit his lip, still staring at Nezuko in wonder. He’d thought of her as similar to Tsutako before, but now…

“Keep an eye on him,” worried, Shinobu’s voice was low. Vaguely, he could tell she’d finished up with his wound, but his head was too hazy to care. “He deteriorated quickly, so tell me if things change. I’ll be back with medicines.” 

The door clicked shut behind her, Kanao setting up stools for everyone who stuck around. Aoi took the cloth from his forehead, wringing it out. Wetting it again, she passed it to Nezuko, who settled it under his hair. 

Slowly, his eyes fluttered shut as she stroked his hair, the soft scratching along his scalp soothing him into a light, restless slumber. 

Chapter Text

Groaning, Giyuu frowned. He cracked open an eye, the faded lights barely illuminating the room burning his unused eyes. It snapped back shut, prickling with water. Trying to lift his arm to cover them proved futile; it was heavy, dead weight. He settled for scrunching his eyes tight, letting his cheeks crush the light out. 

Vaguely, he could feel movement next to him. Buzzing by his left ear, and a tickling of his scalp meant there was chatter and comforting gestures, but he paid them no mind. They barely registered as being real, anyway. 

His face relaxed, falling into a restless sleep.

***

Before him stood Nezuko, standing strong and proud with her sword clasped in her hands. She stared at him, tears streaming down her bloodied cheeks, but something was different. 

Her eyes.

Sword clattered to the ground, landing in a pool of blood. It splashed, sticking to the deep black of her blade. Droplets spread across the ground, leaching from the main source. Whose blood it was, Giyuu didn’t know. There was a stack of bodies, painting a macabre scene. Pieces loose, disconnected en masse. Their owners were strewn as haphazardly as their parts, torn apart.

But that wasn’t what he focussed on.

One of Nezuko’s eyes was different. Rather than baby pink, it was far darker, brighter. Slit pupil had faded to white, and rounded out.

Human.

Dropping his own sword to the blood below, Giyuu stared. He stared, watching as her claws shrank back to nails, her fangs dulled to match the rest. Her other eye snapped shut, before she opened it and stared back at him. 

Face crumpling, her eyebrows knitted together. She managed to take just one step toward him before she was stopped.

A pale hand, with long, demonic claws wrapped around her mouth, the other grabbing her by her waist. She reached out, terror screaming in her eyes. Giyuu tried to move, but he was rooted to the spot. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t move. Tensing, straining, praying. Nothing let him move. 

Faintly, behind her, Giyuu could see a figure. It was faceless; nondescript, but he knew who it was. 

Muzan. 

Those claws - those life ruining claws - sank into Nezuko’s face, blood pilling up and spilling over where they punctured. Veins protruded from her cheeks, straining under the force of Muzan’s blood entering her once more. 

Growling, Giyuu tried to move, but he couldn’t even move his eyes. All he could do was stare, and watch as her humanity was stolen once more. If he could, he’d have fallen to his knees and begged whatever was rooting him in place to let him move, let him take her place. Take the pain for her. Protect her. 

But the gods were not merciful, so there he stayed.

Finally, after an eternity had passed, Muzan let her go. Nezuko crumpled, growling just like she had on that one snowy day, but now there was no Tanjiro to save her.

There was only him, a pile of bodies, and the imminent sunrise.

Turning her gaze on him - the warmest of all the bodies had to be her target, after all - she launched. 

Please don’t let her kill me, he thought to himself. Not out of self-preservation, no; Giyuu would never care enough about himself to want for that. 

Let her die as Nezuko, not a demon.

***

“He’s having fever dreams,” a soft voice whispered above him. He couldn’t quite figure out who it was - there were so many young girls at the Butterfly Estate, trying to decipher their whispers was a large ask - but it was comforting nonetheless. It had been nothing more than a dream.

“The only thing I can do is give him some sleep medicine, and hope that knocks him out so the dreams don’t come,” that voice was unmistakably Shinobu, on his other side. “But I don’t want it to interfere with the fever.” 

“Is there anything else we can do?” the same voice from before - perhaps it was Kiyo? - sounded worried, a little hand squeezing his arm. 

“Let me know if you notice it happening again,” her hand was gentle on his other arm, lifting it to adjust the needle in his arm. “I’ll figure something out. Giyuu, stop torturing yourself in your sleep, please.”

A cold liquid flooded his veins, tracking its way up his arm from the elbow. The cold faded away in his shoulder, warmed by his abnormally high body temperature. 

Scratching on his scalp made him crack one eye open, finding the light even dimmer than it had been the last time he awoke. Though his vision was blurry, he could see Nezuko by his head, running her fingers through his hair. That, coupled with whatever Shinobu gave him, knocked him back into another restless dream.

***

In the Butterfly Estate, Giyuu sat in his room. It was uncommon, he normally was out on the engawa, letting Nezuko get some fresh air, but today he didn’t need to.

For she was sat in front of him, more human than he’d ever been.

“It’s going to be alright,” Nezuko whispered, in a voice that was far too familiar to have belonged to her. She reached out, ruffling his hair between her fingers. “You’ll be okay, ‘Yuu.” 

His heart stopped.

He hadn’t heard that nickname in years. 

The only one… a chill crept down his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall. How could Nezuko have known?

And why did she sound so much like Tsutako?

Eyes focussing on his lap, Giyuu grabbed a handful of his yukata in each fist. His muscles strained; tense, because this wasn’t right, it shouldn’t be happening-

“Are you okay, Giyuu?”

Blinking heavily, Giyuu raised his head. Nezuko wasn’t sitting across from him any longer, rather Tsutako sat serenely in her place, smiling as though nothing was amiss. 

Jaw dropping, Giyuu just stared. His grip on his yukata loosened, fabric escaping through his fingers. His arms fell to his sides, hanging limp next to him. Tsutako’s smile widened as she reached out, moving both her hands to cup his jaw. Gently - ever so gentle, as Tsutako’s movements always were - she lifted his jaw shut.

“What’s the matter?” she moved her hands to cup his cheeks, every movement oh-so familiar. Giyuu’s heart clenched, cold chills running down his spine. It was eerie, uncanny. It shouldn’t be real. But her hands were so warm on his cheeks; a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. “You’re shaking.”

“I missed you,” under his breath, the words spilled out on their own. Tsutako tilted her head so her ear faced him, catching his quiet voice. She’d been used to that, before; he’d never been one to speak loudly.

“You did?” her grip tightened on his face, as she leaned in closer. The smile stayed, but it turned bitter, her teeth baring the closer she got. Fingertips dug into his cheeks, almost painfully so. “Then why did you leave me behind?”

Hands flying to rest atop hers, Giyuu moved closer to her. Their foreheads nearly knocked together, he was so close. Frantically, his eyes scanned her face, but he only found a cold betrayal. 

“You told me to leave!” the warmth drained away from her hands, growing cold beneath his fingers. Desperately, he clutched them tighter, trying to force his own warmth onto her. “I didn’t want to go-”

“It was your choice,” smile finally slipped from her face, Tsutako wrenched her hands from beneath his, backing away. She sat across from him, on her calves. “Don’t blame me.”

His excuses died in his throat, staring across at her. Hands still hovered by his own face, finally dropping to hang limp by his sides when he got a good look at her. Blood started beading from nothing on her throat, before it tore itself open, spraying the room with red. Likewise, her arms, legs and stomach were torn open, bites taken from her body. No matter what injury popped up, she stayed still, never flinching. 

Her blood seeped along the floor, pooling beneath them. Giyuu felt it soak into his yukata, but it wasn’t warm. 

It was icy; like she was long dead. 

Snow blew in from the broken door behind them, a chunk missing where it had evidently been kicked in. His room at the Butterfly Estate had morphed into the living area at their old home, when he was unaware. Tsutako still sat there, unmoving. Her eyes trained on his face, watching the horror distort his expression.

“This is what happened,” she finally spoke, despite her throat being inside out. Giyuu could see her vocal chords contorting with every word, the air somehow whistling past them in the correct manner. It was awful; he could see every little part of the inside of her neck. It was torn apart, down to her collarbones, which were snapped and protruding, a stark white in the mess of red. “This is what you did to me.”

“I…” unable to speak, to form words, anything, Giyuu let his mouth fall shut. A lone tear bubbled up in his eyes, rolling down his cheek. It fell to the floor, where it mixed in with the near-frozen blood they sat in.

“You might not have done this with your own hands,” running her fingers through the blood on the floor, Tsutako inspected it. She broke the coagulated film first - the blood had been sitting for a while, she was long dead - letting what was underneath stain her fingers crimson. “But it’s your fault nonetheless. Had you not been here, had you never been born, I never would’ve had to protect you. I could’ve been a normal girl, not a shackled prisoner to the brother I never wanted.”

Giyuu’s stomach dropped. It felt like lead in his abdomen, threatening to keep falling further and further down until it tore him through, letting him bleed out. It’d be fitting, his blood to mix in with Tsutako’s. 

It was what he deserved.

“I’m sorry.”

“Your apologies won’t stitch my throat closed,” waving him off flippantly, Tsutako rolled her eyes. Every word she threw at him felt like an agonising cut, tearing him apart piece by piece. She was the one person he never wanted to reject him. “They won’t do anything.”

Snapping his jaw shut, Giyuu choked down another apology. He trained his eyes on the ceiling, remembering the little trick Tsutako had taught him. “You know,” she’d whisper, holding him close. “If you look up when you’re crying, it’ll push the tears back in.”

“Giyuu,” calling his attention, Tsutako clicked her fingers together harshly. He turned to face her, eyes widening until they felt like they’d pop out of his head. 

Tsutako’s face was melting, the skin and flesh beneath dripping off her skull. Her eyes threatened to come loose, only when she tilted her head back did they stay put. Fingers, arms, legs. Everything was melting, the goop intertwining with her old blood on the floor. 

“Why did you have to leave me behind!” she screeched; a guttural sound, tearing past her exposed vocal chords.

Launching at her, Giyuu shoved his way through the gore to try and grab a hold of her shoulders, stabilise her. He reached out to her shoulder, to at least prop her upright, but his hand sank through her liquefied flesh, coming to rest on the bare bones of her shoulder joint. Even the joint melted away, leaving everything loose in his hand. Forcing down the hot bile creeping up his throat, Giyuu held tight, trying to hold her together. 

“You couldn’t save me,” choking on her words, Tsutako’s head fell to the floor, her neck having come loose from her spine. Something looked different about her now, though. Unnaturally sharp teeth were bared at him, no longer covered by her lips. Her eyes - what was left of them, as they sat uncovered in her exposed skull - were bright pink, the flesh no longer melting. 

Instead, it was crumbling away.

“So what makes you think you can save me?”

***

Giyuu’s eyes snapped open. He pulled his arms beneath him, trying to sit up, but they shook from lack of use. Opting to just stay propped up, his eyes darted around the room. He only managed to catch sight of Shinobu, with concerningly deep eyebags before his vision was obstructed by a mass of black hair.

“Nezuko!” Aoi, he figured it was, called out as he fell back on the bed. “Be gentle!”

They both ignored her advice, Giyuu raising his shaking arms to wrap around the girl. Her warmth seeped into his chilled skin, forcing the cold away. Tightening his grip, Giyuu could feel her breathing straining against his arms. Nezuko’s face nuzzled into his neck, thankfully whole.

“You know,” Shinobu stood up next to him, making him drink some medicine as soon as Nezuko allowed him to move. “We were fighting your fever for an absurd amount of time.”

Accepting her proffered cup of water, Giyuu merely hummed in response.

“It was an unnaturally long amount of time,” taking back his cup, she sat back down on her stool, looking all the more exhausted. “As though your fever wasn’t natural to begin with.”

“Didn’t I have an infection?” tilting his head as far as he could, with Nezuko hindering his movements, Giyuu frowned. “Wasn’t it just because of that?”

“I think it was in part,” Shinobu yawned, hiding her mouth behind a hand. “But we got rid of your infection very quickly. The fever, however, persisted. It’s rather unusual. Perhaps something to ask Mr Rengoku about?”

“Maybe,” he nodded to her suggestion, despite the uncertainty in his answer. 

“Nevermind that,” standing once more, Shinobu moved right next to his head. She bent over, so she could stare directly into his eyes - it felt as though she were glaring at his soul, it was that intense - before speaking again. Her tone was sweet as always, but undercut with a thick layer of ice. “You might be healthy now, but I want you to stay here for a few more days for observations. No gallivanting about the forest to visit your friends, okay?”

Suppressing the deep desire to roll his eyes, Giyuu nodded once more.

“Good,” smile stretching her tired face, Shinobu straightened up. “Never leave my estate when you are that injured again.”

She turned on her heel and left, not leaving him any room to protest. The exhaustion settling into his bones sapped away any want to leave anyway, forcing him to stay in bed. Despite having been asleep for an unknown amount of time, Giyuu had never felt more tired. ‘Fever dream’ was a term he’d heard thrown around before, to describe something confusing, or unpleasant, but he’d never experienced anything like that personally. 

He’d never be able to unhear Tsutako tell him it was his fault she died. 

The ghost of his sister would haunt him in the morning, that was a given. She’d never really stopped, after all this time. But the warmth Nezuko provided, where she lay nuzzled into him, helped soothe his regrets away. 

He’d save her. No matter the cost. Everything he’d wanted to do for Tsutako, to make up for her having to become his parent so young. He’d give it all to Nezuko.

***

Shinobu had given him the all clear to wander around the estate as he pleased, so long as he didn’t touch the front door. She’d considered his hellish fever a lesson learned, and released him from his rotation of tiny guards. Theoretically, Giyuu could take Nezuko and leave, but Shinobu was right. He wasn’t prepared to risk that again.

Giyuu sat himself on the engawa, overlooking the garden. No one had asked him for assistance today; instead walking on eggshells around him wherever he went. Hesitation plagued him at the thought of asking why - had he said something, in a feverish haze? - so he rather took the opportunity to sit, undisturbed. 

There were many more butterflies than usual sitting on the fence, their colourful wings vibrant in the bright sun. Though he associated them with Shinobu now, at first glance butterflies always reminded him of his sister. 

“You couldn’t save me.”

Sighing, Giyuu leant his head against the wooden pole behind him, tilting his face toward the sun. It wasn’t hot, rather a comforting warmth. He wouldn’t burn sitting out there. 

“It’s your fault.”

Tsutako’s words rang in his head, overtaking any thoughts he tried to conjure up to distract himself. It was a lie, he knew. Tsutako would never blame him - she wasn’t that kind of person, she’d never blame him even if something was his fault - but that didn’t mean he hadn’t always blamed himself.

Perhaps she had been the one to tell him to go, but he made that choice. He left her to the demon. He watched her throat get torn open. He heard the cracking of her bones, the tearing of flesh. He heard it all, and yet he still ran away.

If he hadn’t ran, maybe she’d still be alive. Even if it was in his place. 

The worst part of all was that the people in the village hadn’t believed him. He’d always been quiet, but a happy child. They could easily explain such a ridiculous story away by saying it was just a childish fantasy. Tsutako had sheltered him from everything she possibly could, making sure he only knew love and happiness growing up. Now, as an adult, Giyuu could see she’d been struggling, only a child herself. But she’d done it all anyway, for him. If only he hadn’t thrown it all back in her face to leave her for dead. 

The ladies in town would’ve believed Tsutako, they wouldn’t have said she was just mentally ill, not like they did to him. They would have sent help, if he’d sent her to them first. Giyuu should’ve tried to fight off the demon himself. But he didn’t. And they didn’t. They locked him up instead, letting him sit in the dingy, frozen room with only a small, barred window for air. Giyuu screamed, crying out for them to free him, let him at least go back home to hold Tsutako as she died, but nobody was listening. His own voice echoed through the empty room, bouncing back and forth, stabbing his eardrums with every word, but he kept begging. 

“Please, let the sun come out,” he’d prayed, finally falling to his knees. The words she’d asked of him spilled from his lips, forcing their way out between his quiet sobs. Hands clasped before his face, he whispered over them, tears silently falling down his cheeks. “Let the sun break through.”

Eventually, after an eternity, it did. When his vocal chords were rubbed raw, his mouth dry and sticky. The sun warmed his back, shining through the gaps in the window. 

“Please let there be something left to bury.”

In a sick twist of irony, the gods had listened to his prayers. They didn’t save his sister, that was certain. But someone from the village - he didn’t care to figure out who - threw him her red haori through the bars of the window, hovering there for a second.

“They buried them,” he’d whispered, keeping his voice low to avoid being seen. “Your sister and her fiance.”

That was all the man offered, before he ran away. But it was enough.

His sister was dead, and everyone thought he was at fault.

He was at fault.

Sighing, Giyuu lowered his head, blinking heavily. The bright sun burned his eyes, just a bit, leaving coloured patches behind every time he blinked. But it was better than being caught crying.

Shuffling came from behind him, slowing to a halt at his side. Without turning his head, Giyuu could tell by the purposeful footsteps that it was Shinobu. She was trying to make herself heard, so her presence wasn’t a surprise. Neither of them spoke, as she settled herself in next to him. 

“...I bet those fever dreams weren’t fun, huh?” she was the first to break the silence, keeping her eyes focussed on the butterflies, just like he was. Lifting one leg to sit on the engawa, Giyuu rested his arm on his knee, leaning his face on his palm. 

“Yeah.” 

Shinobu didn’t speak, but he saw her nodding in sympathy from the corner of his eye. Still, she did not turn to him, watching as the butterflies danced amongst themselves in the sun. there really were many more than usual. Perhaps it was due to the warmer weather, but Giyuu couldn’t remember enough about the insects to explain it away.

They sat there in silence. Giyuu shuffled on the spot, just a little, but it wasn’t out of discomfort. It wasn’t uncomfortable, sitting there with Shinobu. But he felt like it should be. Perhaps it would’ve been, months ago. Before he’d taken in Nezuko. She likely would’ve teased him, made up some outlandish tale about what he’d been dreaming of; or perhaps what he’d even been remembering, just then. But the Shinobu he knew now did no such thing. She just sat, quietly, comfortingly. 

“We don’t get many of those butterflies around here,” smiling softly, she pointed out a lone blue butterfly, floating past all the others. 

“Those were my sister’s favourites,” in awe, Giyuu stared at the butterfly as it fluttered to a stop, landing on the fence, far from the others. “The blue ones.”

“Maybe it’s a sign from her then,” Shinobu finally looked over at him, before turning her gaze back to the insect. “Telling you to stop angsting out here and get to training.”

Rolling his eyes at her, Giyuu shook his head. It was a ridiculous idea, that his sister was manifesting herself through a butterfly to snap him from his thoughts. His eyebrows knitted together in a frown. Thinking twice, it did sound like something Tsutako would do. She would hate seeing him mope.

Maybe it was a sign, after all. 

“There was a crow here for you, Tomioka!” Naho ran outside, waving a letter in her hand. She handed it over, running away before he had a chance to thank her. 

“Well, what does it say?” leaning over his shoulder, Shinobu tried to catch a glimpse of the paper.

“Nezuko’s sword is ready,” he handed her the paper, so she could read it for herself. “Haganezuka has disappeared so they don’t know when it’ll get here.”

“Why don’t you go pick it up yourself?” scanning the letter over, she handed it back when she was done. “The hot springs there would be good for your recovery. I also heard there was a little training doll there; perhaps that would be good for Nezuko?”

“Can we go to the village?” Giyuu tilted his head in confusion. “I thought that wasn’t allowed.”

“We’re pillars,” with a sigh, Shinobu rolled her eyes. “Of course we can. You’ll just need a guide to take you. I’ll speak to the kakushi about it for you, and yes, Nezuko can go too.”

Standing, Shinobu brushed the dust off of her pants. Just as she moved to leave, she turned back to address Giyuu.

“By the way, Nezuko’s uniform arrived last week. When you get her sword, please do not take that as an opportunity to run off again. I’d like to personally give you the all clear.”

She left, not leaving him any room to protest. Up on the fence, the pretty blue butterfly fluttered away.

***

“This is embarrassing,” Giyuu complained, looking down at the kakushi. They were noticeably shorter than him, and far smaller. A bright red flush was visible through the small strip of skin they exposed, their eyes darting everywhere but at him.

“I apologise,” they bowed, deeply, clasping their hands before their face. “But I can’t let you see the path!” 

“Make sure you don’t drop him!” Shinobu sang from the gate, waving her hand softly. “He’s in recovery!”

“Of course!” straightening up at the sound of her voice, the kakushi bent back in a bow, this time facing her. “You can count on me! I’m stronger than I look!”

With a large, long sigh, Giyuu reluctantly allowed the kakushi to blindfold him, and plug his ears. Despite no longer being able to hear, he could feel Shinobu laughing at him in such a helpless state. The kakushi tapped his arm, signalling they were ready to carry him. Offering up a prayer to the gods, and a silent apology to the poor kakushi for the weight they were about to bear, he jumped on.

Blood rushed to his cheeks as he felt the kakushi’s legs buckle, just a little, before they regained their balance. Face twitching, he was thankful for the earplugs. At least they allowed him to pretend no one saw anything.

***

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Giyuu apologised, once the final kakushi took off the blindfold and earplugs. Thankfully, none of the rest of them had been as small as the first; their struggling under the combined weight of him and Nezuko was far less noticeable. 

“It’s not a problem!” the kakushi brushed off his concerns, waving a hand flippantly in the air. “I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to visit the village; the other pillars come far more often.”

Giyuu just shrugged, busying himself with the straps over his shoulders. It’d been a long time since he’d carried Nezuko’s box, the thick fabric digging into his skin. Rolling his shoulder a bit, he tried to alleviate some of the tension.

“You should go visit the chief,” awkwardly, when he didn’t respond, the kakushi moved to take their leave. “He will want to meet a pillar.”

They ran off, before Giyuu could ask where to go. Slumping his shoulders, he surveyed the village. No one was hanging around for him to ask directions; it didn’t seem as though anyone were there at all. Sighing, he jumped up to the highest point he could reach, landing softly on the roof of a nearby house. From there, he could see the whole village - even down to the hot springs, but he didn’t look too hard at those - finally, he spotted a building that looked promising.

“Oi!” someone yelled from the ground, throwing stones up at him. Offended, Giyuu dodged them with ease, staring down at the person. “Get off my roof!” 

Seeing them struggle with a much larger, impossible to throw - he hoped - rock, Giyuu heeded their instruction. He jumped away, ignoring the verbal lashing they were trying to offer him for standing on their house. It wasn’t like they were mad for no reason, he supposed, landing in front of what he assumed to be the chief’s house. He had been standing on their roof, after all.

“Greetings,” a voice called from inside. Slipping off his shoes, Giyuu walked in, only to see a tiny man, flanked by two of normal size. Perturbed, he sat down across from them all. “I’m the chief of this village, Tecchin Tecchikawahara. Nice to meet ya.” 

“Giyuu Tomioka,” he nodded, completing the greeting. Tecchikawahara’s face was hidden by his mask, but Giyuu had spent enough time with Shinobu to recognise the subtlety in how he jerked back meant he was irritated. 

“Hotaru has disappeared,” after a long pause, he continued speaking. “We are searching for him, so please be patient. However, he did finish Nezuko’s sword. I will have someone polish and collect it for you.”

“Thank you,” moving to stand, Giyuu paused when the chief spoke once more.

“It will take at least until this evening, perhaps even tomorrow,” one of the smiths next to him whispered in his ear, too quiet for Giyuu to decipher. “I heard you’re not yet recovered enough to go demon slaying. Our hot spring is very good for the body, so please, just relax here.”

Nodding, Giyuu rose to his feet, quickly leaving the room. Another masked villager followed him out, leading him over to the hotspring path.

“It’s just up here,” they gestured to the path, turning to leave. “If you are not back by dinner, someone will come to collect you.”

The path was lined with many signs that all said ‘bath’, at comically small intervals. It certainly wouldn’t allow for anyone to get lost from the trail. Nodding a thanks to the smith, Giyuu hurried up the path. The sun was thankfully setting, hanging low in the sky. Clouds stained a vibrant pink signalled its departure, and Nezuko’s impending wake up call. 

Just at the top of the path, Giyuu could faintly hear the hot spring water splashing. It was soothing; the steam from the baths making his hair stick to the back of his neck. Nezuko’s box didn’t help him cool down, rather trapping the humid air between the many layers he wore. Wanting nothing more than to take it off, he continued anyway, hiking the box higher on his back.

“Oh, Tomioka!” Kanroji called from the middle of the spring, standing tall. She waved aggressively, both hands high above her head. Startled, Giyuu turned to face her, eyes blowing wide before snapping tightly shut. The way she’d been waving her arms left nothing to the imagination, with only her braids to cover her. Things were… moving, in time with the waving of her arms. 

Trying to shove the memory burned into his mind to the deepest, darkest corner of his thoughts, Giyuu turned around, about to march right back down the hill and pretend that he’d seen nothing. 

“Tomioka, wait!” concerningly loud splashing met his ears before he heard the slapping of wet feet hitting the rocks, coming ever closer with each step. Please have grabbed a towel. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Oh no, he heard. He absolutely heard. And he most certainly saw. 

Don’t think about it.

“Hello, Kanroji,” he choked out, trying to force down the heat in his cheeks. Squeezing his eyes even tighter closed - how convenient would the kakushi’s blindfold have been then - he took deep breaths, calming himself down.

“Hi!” a chipper tone laced her voice, coming from right behind his back. She shifted in place, hopping from one foot to another, before she launched at him. Wet arms wrapped tight around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides. Tensing immediately at her touch, Giyuu willed himself to keep breathing, to not let it affect him. Water droplets from her skin soaked into his haori, deep through his uniform to dampen his own skin. “Why have you screwed your face like that? It’s so cute! Are you hot? You’re so red! I’ve never seen your face like this!” 

Tentatively, Giyuu allowed his face to loosen up. After a deep breath, he opened his eyes, looking down at the girl still wrapped around his middle.

“Kanroji,” snapping his head back away, he trained his eyes pointedly on a tree, far in the distance. Far enough in the distance he could no longer see the expanse of creamy skin pressed up against his left arm, squashed so tightly he could feel everything. “...your clothes.”

She screamed so loud, Giyuu felt his left eardrum throb in protest. Nearby crows flew out of the trees, rattling leaves free as they took flight. Kanroji wrenched herself off of him, running off to the spring again.

“I’m so sorry!” she wailed, thankfully, the sound was accompanied by that of fabric. “I completely forgot!” 

“It’s fine,” waving a hand in her general direction, he brushed the apology away. Finally, she came back over, fully clothed. 

“No!” whining, she dragged the word out. “It’s so embarrassing! I’m so embarrassed! I can’t believe I hugged you naked-”

“No one needs to know about that,” Giyuu forced himself to meet her teary eyes, forgetting about the blush that stained his cheeks. Nodding, Kanroji smiled sheepishly, her own cheeks bright red.

“Okay!” tugging him by the hand, she bounced in place. Don’t think about bouncing. “Wait! He ignored me! I said hello, and he ignored me!” 

“Who?” tilting his head, Giyuu frowned. He’d said hello back, hadn’t he?

“I don’t know!” Kanroji fell to her knees, holding his hand between her own. “I asked his name but he ignored me! Isn’t that mean! I’m a pillar!” 

Sobbing, she clutched his hand tight to her forehead. Her cries were so loud, they seemed to shake the ground where he stood. Guilt clutched at his heart, squeezing tight. While he didn’t understand how being ignored upset her so much, he did feel bad she was crying at his feet. 

“Do you want me to talk to him?” fighting to contain a sigh, lest it make her cry harder, Giyuu’s frown deepened. 

“Would you?” she launched to her feet, bringing his hand close to her chest instead. His cool fingers met her warm, exposed skin. “Thank you, Tomioka!”

Dragging him by the hand, she led him over to another hot spring. The sound of splashing was beginning to become familiar, indicating someone was bathing. But it was accompanied by an odd grunting of pain, and hissing. 

“Are you hurt?” Kanroji cried, yanking Giyuu across to the spring. She had no shame, seemingly forgetting that the person bathing would be naked - a recurring trend for her, Giyuu noted - bringing them both to a halt right before the mystery man. He flung something towards them both, hitting Kanroji in the chest. “Ah! It’s in my yukata!” 

With her hand that wasn’t attached to his own, she dug down the front of her clothing, rummaging around for whatever it was that hit her. In an attempt to not get yet another eyeful, Giyuu turned to the spring.

“Oh. It’s just Genya,” if possible, the boy looked even bigger than before, with even more scars to match. He looked like Shinazugawa - painfully so - even down to his angered expression.

“He threw a tooth at me!” presenting Giyuu her flattened palm, Kanroji had successfully fished the tooth out of her clothing, letting it rest on her hand. Taking it from her, Giyuu inspected it slightly, before holding it back out to Genya.

“Do you want it back?”

“What the fuck, no!” he spat at them, angrily turning back around. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re so mean!” Kanroji cried again, dropping to her knees. She finally released Giyuu’s hand, covering her face as she sobbed. “We’re pillars!” 

“I know,” scowling, Genya turned to face them over his shoulder. His face was flushed a dark red, eyes looking anywhere but at them. “...Sorry.”

“It’s alright!” leaping up to her feet, Kanroji wiped her tears away with a smile. “I think it’s almost time for dinner!” 

Skipping away, she sang to herself, the echo of her song rising to meet them long after she left. Shrugging to himself, Giyuu took off Nezuko’s box, placing it on the ground. Slowly, Nezuko climbed out, smiling when she saw the springs. He ushered her over to the unoccupied pool, helping her take her shoes off so she could put her feet in the water.

“Oi, Tomioka,” Genya called out, peeking from behind a large rock. When Nezuko was settled, kicking around the water happily, Giyuu turned back to him. “Do you… know anything about the cure?”

“No,” crouching back down next to Nezuko, he busied himself by taking off his own shoes. “But they have Upper Moon blood now.”

Sitting flat, Giyuu mimicked Nezuko’s position in the hot spring, ignoring her splashing. She was kicking her feet, flicking water back up at them. A particularly large drop hit him in the cheek, but he paid it no mind. Quietly, he heard Genya get out and leave, without saying another word.

In a way, Genya reminded him of himself. They’d both lost their older siblings - perhaps that’d include Nezuko, too - but Genya’s fate was far more tragic. Guilt stabbed his heart as the feeling of gratefulness washed over him. Despite the horrific end she’d faced, at least Tsutako didn’t have to be a demon. She’d gotten to die a human, never having taken another’s life. There’d be no punishment awaiting her. 

Depending on how Shinazugawa was now, the same couldn’t be said for him. Giyuu hoped, for Genya’s sake, that by some miracle Shinazugawa turned out to be just like Nezuko, and refused to kill humans. 

But a niggling little feeling at the bottom of his heart told him he wouldn’t be. 

***

“Tomioka!” Kanroji waved him over, just as aggressively as she’d done earlier. This time, thankfully, her clothes were closed tight, high enough on her neck to not let anything show. Humouring her, Giyuu led Nezuko over. “Sit here!” 

Settling in next to her, and her absolute mountain of food bowls, Giyuu quietly thanked the villager who passed him one of his own. Even though their faces were all covered by masks, he could see them side eyeing her stack.

“You said that boy before’s name was Genya?” tilting her head so low her hair almost dipped into her bowl, Kanroji questioned him. “How do you know him?”

“He’s Shinazugawa’s brother,” he grabbed his chopsticks, lifting the bowl near his face. “Trains with Himejima.” 

“Oh no,” her brows knitted tight together, mouth rounding into an ‘o’. “But Shinazugawa said he didn’t have a little brother. They mustn’t be on good terms… Oh no! He must be so sad, knowing what happened!”

Nezuko crawled under the table across from them, peeking her head out between the pair. Cooing, Kanroji clapped her hands, a wide smile warming her face. “Oh, you’re so cute! Come here!” 

Shuffling closer, Kanroji rolled Nezuko onto her back, tickling her thoroughly. Giggles erupted from the girl, making Kanroji laugh alongside her, tickling her even more. She kicked her little legs, trying to escape her touches, but gently.

“Hey, Tomioka!” giving Nezuko a chance to catch her breath, Kanroji turned her gaze to him. “Do you remember that time I tickled you? When we were all trying to make you laugh?”

Whispers permeated through the garden of the Ubuyashiki Estate. It wasn’t unusual for there to be chatter when Oyakata wasn’t around - especially chatter that Giyuu wasn’t involved in - but the pitch was unusual. Hushed mumbles meant they did not intend for him to hear.

Not that it mattered. He wasn’t listening anyway. 

“I’m just gonna do it!” Kanroji announced, to whom, Giyuu wasn’t sure. His gaze stayed locked on the garden, seemingly glaring a hole through an unsuspecting rock. “Tomioka!” 

She was in front of him, now. A nervous smile shook on her face, hesitant green eyes meeting his. Quickly, before she could convince herself otherwise, she lifted both of her hands to his sides, tickling him aggressively. Tensing, Giyuu just managed to conceal his bewilderment, keeping his face blank. As more time passed without reaction, Kanroji’s movements slowed, her hands anxiously lifting from his sides. 

Awkwardly, she smiled, moving her hands away. The closer they got back to her own sides, the brighter the flush on her cheeks became. As soon as they got to her face, Kanroji was sweating nervously, her eyes darting everywhere but at him. 

“I’m so sorry!” falling into a crouch, she hid her vibrantly red face in her hands. Giyuu just stared, confused. From the corner of his eye, he saw Iguro marching toward him, pulling his sword from his sheath. 

What did he do this time?

“I remember,” shovelling another load of rice into his mouth, Giyuu turned to look at Kanroji. “Iguro threatened me.” 

“Oh he wasn’t threatening you,” just like when she’d been tickling him, her eyes darted around the room. It appeared to be a nervous trait of hers. Hiding her blush in her hands, Kanroji shook her head. “Okay, maybe he was! I’m sorry!” 

“Why would it be your fault?” turning back to his bowl, Giyuu heaped more food into his mouth. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nezuko pawing at Kanroji, trying to get her to come out from behind her hands. “Nezuko wants you to hug her.”

“Oh!” happily, Kanroji threw her hands off her face, scooping Nezuko up to her chest with them. Rocking them back and forth, she nuzzled her cheek on the top of her hair. Content, Giyuu put his empty bowl back on the table. A villager eyed the empty stack before Kanroji, sighing. They tried to balance the dirty dishes, hobbling out of the room. “Tomioka!” 

“Hm?” looking back at her, Giyuu hummed, tilting his head in question. Another soft blush spread across the top of Kanroji’s cheeks, staining her face a light pink.

“So cute!” she cooed, clapping her hands to her cheeks. Wriggling back and forth on the spot, she gushed to herself. “You look so cute! I’ve never seen you make so many expressions! So cool!” 

Frowning slightly, Giyuu tilted his head further. On Kanroji’s lap, Nezuko mimicked his actions, tilting her head to match him. 

“I can’t take it! My heart is throbbing!” squealing, Kanroji lifted Nezuko from her lap onto his own, eyes welling up at the sight. “It’s so sweet you took Nezuko in! So unexpected from you, but so sweet! Oh, you have food on your face. Let me just get that for you…”

Letting her words trail off, Kanroji leaned over, brushing the rice grains off his face with the back of her hand. She bent in closer, inspecting his face for any additional residue. Satisfied, she sat back down on her cushion, wiping her hands clean.

“All done!” smiling widely, she continued with her earlier train of thought. “You and Nezuko remind me of my own siblings! I know you’re not related, but that doesn’t matter. It’s so sweet! But the Shinazugawas..” 

Nezuko climbed off of his lap, running back to Kanroji. She climbed up on her, grabbing one of her long braids. Content, she played with the hair, bouncing it in her hands. 

“Those brothers scare me, but I feel so sad for them both,” rubbing her hand on Nezuko’s back, Kanroji frowned. “I couldn’t imagine being in Genya’s place.”

“Kanroji,” interrupting her, before her eyes could well up, Giyuu gestured to Nezuko. “She wants you to braid her hair like yours.”

“Of course!” practically squealing, she sat Nezuko down on the floor, combing her fingers through her long hair to free it of any tangles. She pulled a brush out from somewhere - Giyuu really wasn’t looking hard enough to see, lest he get yet another eyeful - combing it through a particularly niggly knot. Sectioning it off, she began working on the back braid, making it as large as hers. “How did you know that’s what she wanted?”

He shrugged silently, looking over at them both. “Just seemed like it.”

“You know her so well,” smiling brightly, Kanroji tied off the first braid, moving to work on the next. “Shinobu told me that you’ve basically moved into her estate, since you took Nezuko in.”

“I have not,” Giyuu huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I go back to my own estate.”

“She says that she can’t remember the last time you left overnight, except for when you were on a mission,” humming, Kanroji finished up the second braid, presenting it to Nezuko. She smiled brightly, holding the twisted hair in her hands. “It seemed like she was complaining, but I think she likes having you around! It makes her sisters feel better when she’s not there, to have another pillar presence, too.”

Quickly, Kanroji finished Nezuko’s hair. She jumped to her feet, waving the long braids in her hands. Holding them up to Kanroji’s own braids, Nezuko compared them, a big smile puffing her cheeks. 

“You look so cute!” scooping up the girl, Kanroji wrapped her in another hug. Lightly, Nezuko tapped on Kanroji’s cheek, pointing over to Giyuu. Following the line of her finger, her big green eyes landed on his ponytail. “Do you want me to do the same to Tomioka? Is it okay, Tomioka?”

Both girls looked up at him pleadingly, their eyes glossed over. Pouting, Nezuko crawled over, tugging his hair free from its tie anyway, letting it fall loose on his back. With a heavy sigh, Giyuu slumped his shoulders so she could reach the top of his head.

“...fine.”

Giggling, Kanroji got to work. She brushed through his hair, keeping the tugging to an absolute minimum. Sectioning it off, she braided the ones on the side with deft hands, leaving the back portion to Nezuko. They finished around the same time, presenting him with their final products. 

“Do you like it?” Kanroji leaned on Nezuko’s shoulders, propping her chin on the top of the younger girl’s head. Avoiding their curious gazes, Giyuu lifted up one of the braids, inspecting it. He was sure he looked ridiculous, but the prideful smile on Nezuko’s face was worth a little embarrassment. 

“Yes.” 

“Lady Kanroji,” a kakushi interrupted them, starting when they saw Giyuu’s hair. Careful to not let their gaze linger, they focussed in on her. “Your sword will soon be finished being sharpened. Please come to the workshop for final adjustments.”

“Oh my!” smiling sadly, Kanroji squeezed Nezuko’s shoulders. “Looks like I have to go. Let’s all do our best to see each other alive again, okay? I really like the person you’ve become, Tomioka! I’m rooting for you both!” 

“Thank you,” lips quirking up the tiniest little bit at the corners, Giyuu ducked his head at the praise. “I’m sure we will see each other soon.”

“By the way,” Kanroji leaned in close to his ear, covering her mouth with her hand. “I hear this village has a secret weapon that makes you stronger. You should look for it, for Nezuko.”

With that, Kanroji leapt to her feet, waving wildly in the air. The kakushi had gotten fidgety, waiting for her to finish her conversation. Nezuko waved back sadly, a pout on her face as she said goodbye. When they were finally gone, she turned to Giyuu, pout growing larger as she looked at his hair.

“It’s just a goodbye, Nezuko,” patting her head - carefully, to avoid messing up the braids - Giyuu smiled softly. “Not a farewell. You’ll see her again.”

***

Giyuu sighed, squinting at the bright afternoon sunlight. It was later in the day than he’d like to admit, having been kept up late by Nezuko, who wanted to look at the sky. Wrangling his hair had been a mission of its own; the kinks sleeping in braids had formed made his ponytail thicker than usual. But Nezuko had giggled when she saw it, playing with the puff that sat on the back of his head, so he resisted wetting it down for just one day. 

Hiking her box up higher on his back, Giyuu meandered around the village, looking for the supposed ‘weapon’ Kanroji had been talking about. One of the kakushi had told him Nezuko’s blade was almost ready - the swordsmith who had taken over for Haganezuka didn’t want to alter the man’s work, so it was more delicate of a process than they’d anticipated - so he had to linger around the village a little longer. They’d given him a spare in the meantime, so she’d have something to train with. 

If only he could find the weapon itself. Kanroji hadn’t been very forthcoming with details, so he had no idea what to look for. 

Rustling from the forest next to him caught his eye. Glancing over, Giyuu saw Tokito exiting the treeline, inspecting the palm of his hand. When the warmth of the bright sun hit him, he paused, staring up at the clouds. After a long moment, he noticed Giyuu looking at him.

“Tomioka,” training his blank gaze on him, Tokito tilted his head. “Will you train with me?”

Nodding, Giyuu silently followed him on the hunt for wooden swords. The taste of bitterness on his tongue made his eyes narrow, glaring at the back of the younger pillar. Last time they’d interacted, Tokito had told Shinobu the one thing he didn’t want her to learn, the time when Nezuko carried him like a bride. He couldn’t even scold the boy, because there wasn’t a chance he’d remember any part of that event to begin with. 

Huffing, Giyuu accepted the wooden sword Tokito passed over. He’d just have to try and forget, a luxury Tokito wasn’t even aware he had. Tokito began to clear the area, giving them some room to move, while Giyuu took the opportunity to place Nezuko’s box down. She always seemed a little happier when the box was being warmed by the sun, when she was safe from harm. 

“Are you ready?” across the makeshift clearing, Tokito lifted his wooden sword. His real one lay discarded on the ground, kicked out of the way. Nodding, Giyuu readied himself, adjusting his grip. The sword felt foreign in his hands - it had been a long time since he’d trained with one, in favour of using his regular sword - but it’d be easily accounted for. 

Tokito, seemingly changing his mind, lowered his sword to where it’d lie in the sheath. Cautiously, Giyuu thought over his options. Perhaps it would be best to use Dance of the Fire God? 

Giving him almost no time to move, Tokito jumped. He slid across the ground at breakneck speed, his body low to the ground. Giyuu took one step back, building up the power the most simple style required. Breathing deeply, he raised his sword in conjunction with Tokito’s own movements, swinging the blade vertically.

Where the wooden swords met, they cracked. Tokito’s blade was snapped clean in half, the pointed tip flying off into the distance. Giyuu’s didn’t fare much better, hanging on by a few splinters at best. 

“It broke,” inspecting his snapped sword, Giyuu frowned. Tokito brushed himself off, standing upright.

“That wasn’t your usual breath style, was it?” Tokito tilted his head, letting the useless hilt fall to the ground. “It didn’t seem like Breath of Water.”

“It wasn’t,” Giyuu agreed, letting his arm drop to his side. It became rather awkward, the conversation dropping off with greater ease than it began. Sighing to himself, Giyuu walked back over to Nezuko’s box, ready to resume his search for the ‘secret weapon’. 

“I won’t give it to you!” a child ran through their makeshift clearing, clutching their hands tight to their chest. The mask adorning their face showed they were a villager, but as far as Giyuu could tell, they were being chased by no one. Tokito stepped forward, seemingly out of nowhere, and chopped the child in the neck. Crumpling in a heap on the ground, they fell silent.

Prying open their clenched hands, Tokito grabbed something that lay hidden between them. Satisfied, he turned, beginning to walk away, but something caught his attention.

“Is that a demon in that box?” lazily, he pointed with a barely visible hand to where Nezuko slept. “Do you have permission for that?”

“Yes,” pulling it up onto his shoulders, Giyuu brushed his questions aside. Content, Tokito shrugged. “Are you just leaving that kid like that?”

“Why not?” with a loud sigh, Tokito stared blankly down at the child. “He’s an exceedingly dumb brat. I have the key that I wanted, so why should I let someone who doesn’t understand their place in life continue to waste my time?”

Taken aback, Giyuu just stared at the other pillar as he walked away, tossing the key in his right hand. He’d picked up his sword on the way past, disappearing past the treeline into the forest. Taking a seat next to a tree, Giyuu settled in to wait until the boy woke up.

After a while, the boy stirred, groaning.

“Did he take it?” whining, the boy patted himself down, slumping over when his efforts proved futile. To add further salt to the wound, Giyuu just nodded. “If he uses it, it’s gonna break! It can’t take a pillar training with it again!”

“What is it?” Giyuu moved to stand just before the child, waiting as he stood, brushing the dust from his clothes. He started walking, beckoning Giyuu to follow. 

“A mechanical doll,” pausing, the boy turned his ear toward the deep forest. With a gasp laced in horror, he took off running. “He’s using it!” 

Staring wistfully back at the village for a moment, Giyuu sighed and followed suit. At least he’d found the weapon.

Lagging just a little behind the boy, so he could follow his path, Giyuu ran at a light jog to match his pace. He was led through the trees, on an old path. The sound of swords clashing grew louder the closer they got, the young smith grew more and more nervous. 

A loud crack grabbed their attention, from beyond the last few trees. Slowing to a walk, Giyuu wandered through the remaining bushes, the boy speeding ahead of him. A large doll with six arms filled the small clearing, each of the six hands holding a full sized sword. Well, five, considering the broken one that lay on the ground. The doll was frozen in an attacking position, arms all positioned mid-movement. 

“Is that the secret weapon?” musing aloud, Giyuu cupped his chin between his forefinger and thumb, inspecting the doll. Tokito lifted the dismembered arm from the ground, tossing the broken sword before the young smith.

“Dispose of that,” he instructed, pointing to the sword as he left the scene. The young boy sniffled, running over to the broken doll. Silent cries shook his small frame as he stared down on the broken remains at his feet.

“It might still work,” Giyuu hovered in the bushes, not wanting to intrude on the boy’s space. He’d lifted up the bottom of his mask to wipe his face dry, leaving it only covering his eyes. “Why don’t you try it?”

Seemingly rejuvenated, he perked up. Readjusting his mask, the boy went about fiddling with the doll, only turning to Giyuu when he needed help lifting it upright. It stood upright, a bit taller than Giyuu’s own height. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doll clicked into place. It swung the five swords into position, standing in a battle stance.

“It works!” clapping, the boy turned around to Giyuu. “I’m Kotetsu. Do you want to use it to train?”

In lieu of an answer, Giyuu set Nezuko’s box down. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the final golden rays blinking out for the night, dimmed by dusk. Quietly, Nezuko crawled out, smiling when she saw her hair still in Kanroji’s braids. 

“Can she use it?”

Kotetsu agreed quickly, not asking too many questions about Giyuu carrying a person in a box. Nor did he inquire about her growing in size when she exited. Perhaps it was a perk of being a pillar; he wasn’t sure, but he was grateful all the same. The smith ran off to grab her a spare sword from the village, taking Tokito’s old broken one with them.

“She can borrow this one,” panting heavily, Kotetsu bent in half, offering Nezuko a random sword he’d brought back with him. “Her sword isn’t ready yet.”

“That’s fine,” Nezuko took the sword from him, holstering it at her waist. “She might break your doll, though. Nezuko’s stronger than she looks.”

“I don’t mind!” puffing out his chest, Kotetsu fisted his hands on his hips. “So long as she becomes as strong as that dirtbag, that’s fine by me!” 

“Are you ready?” turning to her, Giyuu quirked one brow lightly. Nodding, she smiled up at him, gripping the borrowed sword tight. “It won’t be easy. Those blades are nichirin, so no matter what, do not let them near your head.”

Stepping back, Giyuu lingered out of the way in the bushes. It was dangerous, letting her practice with the real swords. The entire time Kotetsu had been gone, he’d mulled it over. Training swords would be safer, but Nezuko’s raw strength alone meant they’d snap in an instant. He’d seen it enough, when training with her personally. After what he’d seen in the red light district, Giyuu knew that Nezuko would be okay if one of the swords got her. She’d heal quickly. If they even hit her at all.

Kotetsu hovered by the doll, preparing to set it off. In the centre of the clearing, Nezuko faced off with the doll, her expression crumpling when she met its eyes. Frowning, Giyuu tried to follow her gaze, see what was making her so upset. Her left hand rose from the hilt of her sword, gently touching the earrings that hung from its ears. 

The very same earrings that dangled from her own. 

Shaking her head, Nezuko sniffled a little, but replaced her hand on the hilt. Her hands shook, but she stilled them quickly. Finally, she resumed her prior stance, holding her sword strong by her side. A bubble of pride swelled in Giyuu’s chest, seeing her comfort herself. She was far stronger than she’d been before.

Kotetsu fiddled with the fingertips of the doll, running over to where Giyuu stood when he was done. The gears inside whirred, rattling against each other as it righted itself from when Tokito had overwhelmed it last. Creaking sounds filled the clearing, before they all cut out. 

Then, it swung. 

Even though it had only five arms, and not the full six, it was an overwhelming assault. Every limb moved almost too fast to see, the edges of each arm blurring in his vision. Nezuko jumped back, narrowly missing one of the blades cutting into her face. Clenching his fists, Giyuu tried to calm himself with his breathing.

It’d be fine. She’d be fine. He’d made the right choice.

He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. 

The mechanical sounds of the gears turning were drowned out by the swords slashing through the air. Despite not hitting anything directly, the sound was deafening; the air itself splitting in two where the blade hit. Nezuko always dodged, but it did nothing to calm his fears. Barely blinking, he locked his gaze onto the scene.

Jumping back, the tip of one blade narrowly missed her neck, carving a red line into the soft skin. Blood bubbled as fast as it healed, disappearing into nothing. All that remained was a soft bead, staining a wild trail in the wake of her movements. Nezuko raised her sword, trying to parry the blades, but she was knocked back every time. Their blades clanged, metallic sounds making Giyuu wince. His hand crept to his sword hit, resting lightly atop it, but firmly enough to draw if need be. Legs tensed, feet shifting into a position that was easier to leap from. Forcing himself to stay still, he just watched. This practice would be good for her. He’d just be a safety precaution. 

Nezuko grunted, sweat dripping down her face. It was taking all she had just to dodge the doll, but she was catching on quick. She learnt at an inhuman speed, but maybe that was just because she was no longer human. Nonetheless, Giyuu kept one hand ready on his sword, just in case. 

Slashing her sword, Nezuko’s blade connected with the arm of the doll. She clenched her jaw, trying to force her blade forward, but the swift, strong movements of the doll outmatched her. Thrown back, Nezuko’s sandals dragged across the ground, digging deep trenches in her wake. It looked dire; Kotetsu was happily cheering for her, but his level of empathy was to be questioned. Giyuu sucked in a breath between his teeth, locking his eyes on her movements. The sun had set behind them, the darkened sky only illuminated by the moon. But for Nezuko, that was enough.

With a loud grunt, she charged forward again. Her blade was clenched tightly in her hands; a good grip. The doll had been reset twice already; Kotetsu quickly adjusted the movements out of sight. Eventually, Nezuko had learnt to at least dodge them all. She’d been able to parry the blows, her sword wobbling under the sheer force from both sides. Kotetsu had been shocked at her strength, confused how a girl so small was able to keep up with such an exquisite doll, but Giyuu brushed his concerns aside. 

Nezuko’s footsteps were silent on the ground; barely making any contact with the dirt. But she leapt with enough force to shatter the rocks beneath her, jumping up and over the doll with ease. In midair, she spun, landing neatly on her feet to dodge under a following blow. Sneaking between the seemingly-flailing swords, she raised her sword above her head, bringing it down onto the doll with a sickening crunch.

The clearing fell silent. 

Backing away from the doll, Nezuko dropped her sword on the ground. She panted, fighting for breath. Giyuu climbed out of the bushes, rubbing her hunched over back. Guilt churned in his gut as he turned back to Kotetsu; mouth opening slowly to apologise for the broken doll, but it snapped shut at his cry.

“Look!” 

Following the line Kotetsu’s extended finger drew, Giyuu turned back to the doll, to see an empty shell where the head had once been. The already-broken face had crumbled off, lying worthless in the dirt. But that wasn’t what had drawn the boy’s attention. A centuries old sword protruded from where the head had once been, its handle worn and fraying.

“She should take it!” gesturing wildly at Nezuko, Kotetsu ran over to the doll. “She broke it, so it’s hers!” 

Shrugging, Giyuu ushered Nezuko forward. She reached up, pulling the sword carefully from its home. The two boys gathered beside her, waiting as she freed it from the sheath. A heavily rusted blade revealed itself, the tinged steel barely catching any of the moonlight in its reflection.

“No,” Kotetsu whined, collapsing to the floor. Giyuu straightened up, moving slightly back from the sword. “I guess it is 300 years old.”

“Give it to me,” a loud voice growled, accompanied by heavy, thunderous stomping. Looking over his shoulder, Giyuu saw an oddly muscular swordsmith barrelling towards them. The mask was familiar, but the physique was not, so it was hard to place him.

“Why should we?” Kotetsu stood before the pair, between them and the incoming smith. “Haganezuka, where are you coming from?”

“Leave it to me,” gesturing to the sword Nezuko clutched tightly to her chest, Haganezuka puffed his chest. “I saw everything.” 

Reaching out, he tried to grab the sword, but Giyuu shifted in front of Nezuko, shielding her from him. With a grunt, Haganezuka tried to push past him, but they were fairly evenly matched in strength. Breathing deeply, Giyuu focussed his strength. Planting his feet, he tightened his core, and shoved Haganezuka away. 

He flailed, landing with a grunt on another smith. A pair of hands came from beneath Haganezuka, tickling firmly on his sides until he crumbled. Shoving him off, yet another smith appeared before them.

“Haganezuka’s weak spot is his sides,” he pointed after a moment, wiping the dust off his clothes. “But you seemed to have it handled.”

Checking on Haganezuka quickly, he turned back to the trio, holding a sword out to Nezuko.

“Here’s your sword,” shaking it lightly, he signalled her to take it. Tentatively, she took the weapon from his grasp, clutching it next to the ancient one. “Haganezuka came back to finish it. He’d been training in the mountains.”

“Training for what?” Giyuu asked, looking down at Nezuko’s new sword. It looked exactly like the old one, down to the black and pink handle. She was smiling, strapping it securely to her waist. 

“He wanted to be able to make a stronger sword than that one,” nodding toward the blade attached to Nezuko’s side, the smith sighed. “He said it was no good. He wants to make a stronger blade, so Nezuko won’t die like Tanjiro.”

Tensing, Giyuu felt Nezuko stiffen next to him. Softly, he nudged her arm with his hand, opening his palm just a little. As soon as she noticed, she wrapped her hand around his own, squeezing tight. 

“The Kamado’s have been getting their swords from him for a while,” the smith continued, undeterred. “I think he was happy about that. Most swordsmen detest him, so he doesn’t stick with the same ones for very long. He was crushed when Tanjiro died, even though he won’t admit it.”

With a loud pop, Haganezuka leapt in the air, suddenly coming right from his tickle attack. Giyuu couldn’t help but resonate with his response, remembering Kanroji’s similar attack on him.

“I will take this tarnished katana,” getting into a pose, he huffed out the words. “And I will polish it using the nichirin sword polishing art of the Haganezuka family.”

Kotetsu started complaining, whining about how he should’ve said that from the start, but Giyuu took the sword from Nezuko silently. Walking past the protesting boy, he handed it over to Haganezuka, the man running off as soon as it was in his grasp. 

“He’s such a weirdo!” Kotetsu yelled, running off to the village behind him. “I’ll make sure he does it right, don’t you worry, Tomioka!” 

The third smith followed after him, waving at the duo as he left. Turning to Nezuko, Giyuu patted her head lightly.

“Shall we go back to the Butterfly Estate?” 

***

“So I heard a funny little rumour,” Shinobu flitted about behind Giyuu, hovering and being a general nuisance as he entered the gates to her estate. It’d taken hours to get back; so many kakushis had to carry him to the Butterfly Estate the sun was already setting once more. “About your time at the swordsmith village!” 

Stiffening, Giyuu felt a shudder run down his spine. Trying to quell it, he forced himself to still. But she still saw.

“Oh, are we nervous?” giggling, she poked him on the shoulder, where she could comfortably reach. “Come on, you can confirm it to me!” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Giyuu bent down, taking off his shoes. Nezuko followed suit, pulling off her own, jumping on the wooden entryway. 

“Oh, I think you do,” Shinobu clapped her hands together loudly, pulling off her own shoes to follow them in. “Something about you, Kanroji, a bath-”

“Shut up,” tempted to slap a hand over her mouth, Giyuu turned sharply away, hiding his reddened face. “Nothing happened.”

“You do remember!” walking around in front of him anyways, Shinobu tried to get a glimpse of his blushing face. “So, how was it, seeing a woman naked for the first time?”

“Excuse me?” snapping his head to hers, Giyuu forgot he was trying to hide his blush. A heavy frown drew his brows together, creasing his forehead. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Oh, no reason!” Shinobu waved his comment away, flicking her wrist flippantly in the air. The large smile stretching her cheeks betrayed her bemusement, but she let it slide nonetheless. “You didn’t answer my question, though.”

“I barely saw anything,” lying through his teeth, Giyuu neglected to mention how much he’d felt, when she pressed up against him like that. “Stop talking about it.”

“Are you embarrassed?” resuming her earlier poking, Shinobu started her assault wherever she could reach, her finger jabbing into his arms, shoulders, cheeks. Everywhere. Batting her hand away, Giyuu’s frown deepened even further. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But don’t let Iguro find out about this.”

“Why would he find out?” 

“Well,” humming, Shinobu tapped her finger against her own cheek. “He and Kanroji are pen pals - perhaps a little more than that, not that they’d admit it - and he’s rather protective of her.”

“Would she tell him?” eyes wide, he stared down at her. 

“Of course she would,” opening the back door, Shinobu let Nezuko outside first, following close after to sit on the engawa. Giyuu followed suit, sitting next to her. The dusk had faded into night, sun dipping below the horizon. “She’s not the best at keeping secrets.”

Groaning, Giyuu hid his face in his hands. Next to him, Shinobu laughed loudly, tapping him on the back. “You’ll be okay. Maybe.”

Nezuko rolled on the grass before them, suddenly stilling. At her quiet, Giyuu looked up from where he’d hidden in his palms. Butterflies surrounded her on the ground, one landing on the tip of her nose.

“Look, Giyuu,” tugging on his sleeve, Shinobu grabbed his attention. “Your blue butterfly is back.” 

Eyes darting around the yard, he finally stopped on that special blue insect. It made his heart clench, throbbing in his chest painfully. Transfixed, he stared as it fluttered closer to them, seemingly hovering around him in particular.

“Do you want to hold it?” her voice lower, and far calmer than before, Shinobu nudged him gently. “The butterfly?”

Nodding, he didn’t take his eyes off of it. Shinobu shifted, as gently as though she were a butterfly herself, floating through the air. Grabbing his arm, she manoeuvred his hand into position, one finger softly extended. Somehow - he couldn’t tell, she didn’t seem to be doing anything special - she coaxed the bug over, guiding it to land on him.

“I didn’t think it’d come that easily,” whispering, she looked at the butterfly, calmly flapping its wings on his fingertip. “I remember that dog that bit your head that time, so I thought butterflies would be no different.” 

Holding back a scoff, Giyuu looked back at the butterfly. It really wasn’t that special, aside from its rarity. But it looked just like the one from his childhood; seeing the bright blue wings this close made his longing for his sister form a thick lump in his throat. Swallowing past it, he gulped, trying to calm down. It wouldn’t do to be upset here; getting emotional in front of Shinobu was asking for a lifetime of teasing. 

“It really likes you,” she was transfixed too, staring deeply at the bug. “They usually fly away by now.”

Finally, after an eternity, the butterfly fluttered away. On the ground, Nezuko tired of lying still, rolling over. The butterflies that hovered around her flew away in a panic, trying to run from any potential threats. It was an explosion of colour in the night sky, the bright jewel tones of their wings illuminated by the warm lighting of Shinobu’s estate.

“That was somewhat magical, wasn’t it,” she hummed, standing up next to Giyuu. “I have to go. Please don’t harm any butterflies in my absence.”

Frowning at her increasingly distant figure, Giyuu sighed. She had an unfortunate habit of ruining a nice moment they shared. One day, they’d leave each other, content with what had happened.

Nezuko crawled up in front of him, tugging on his pants. Turning his gaze to her, she gestured to her hair, indicating he should braid it for her. With a deep sigh, Giyuu set her up in front of his legs, combing through her hair with his fingers. He knew she wanted braids like Kanroji had given her, her whining when he’d made her take them out the night before haunting his memory. They’d been horribly matted and tangled, sticks and dust lingering in the folded strands from her training, so they had to be brushed, but it didn’t make her any less upset. 

Running his fingers through the long strands, Giyuu worked out all the knots gently. As best he could, he tried to minimise the tugging, but she didn’t seem to mind if he accidentally yanked her. 

“Tomioka?” Kanao’s quiet voice appeared next to him, her footsteps going unnoticed. “Sumi asked me to bring you these.”

In her extended hands rested a hairbrush and numerous ties of varying colours. Plucking the brush from her grasp, Giyuu ran it through Nezuko’s hair. Kanao turned to leave, but was caught by Nezuko.

“Huh?” confused, she stared down at the girl’s hand grasping her skirt. Nezuko tugged, patting the ground beside her for Kanao to sit.

“I think she wants to do your hair,” Giyuu offered after a moment, sectioning off Nezuko’s hair into threes. “Kanroji braided it for her at the village, she likes the style.”

“Okay,” loosening her hair from the ponytail she always wore, Kanao clutched her butterfly pin to her chest. “Sorry if it’s knotted.”

Nezuko didn’t seem to mind, taking the brush Giyuu offered her. Running it through Kanao’s hair, she messily sectioned it off. Giyuu tried to fold the strands over each other as neatly as he could, but it had been a long time since Tsutako had shown him how. Nezuko didn’t seem to mind, holding all of the messy braids close to her heart, a big smile stretching her cheeks. Quickly, she finished off Kanao’s hair, her attempt at braids just as messy as Giyuu’s own. 

A soft flush stained Kanao’s cheekbones as she inspected the messy braids, unused to the feeling. Without messing them up, she pinned her clip back to the side of her head, finishing off the look.

“Thank you, Nezuko,” bowing her head slightly, she stood to leave. Though she wasn’t smiling, she seemed happy.

“How cute!” Shinobu’s teasing voice echoed through the garden, her upper body hanging out of her office window. “Even Kanao, too!” 

Blush deepening to a dark red, Kanao hid her face in her hands. The braids smacked onto her as she turned, hiding from Shinobu’s giggles. Nezuko smiled widely, hugging Kanao’s legs from where she sat on the ground. 

“There’s a crow coming,” everyone’s heads snapped up at Shinobu’s words, watching the lone bird fly down. Giyuu stood first, lifting an arm above his head for it to land on. Settling in, the bird shook its wings before announcing its message.

“The swordsmith village is under attack!” hopping in place, the crow cried loudly. “If you’re nearby, follow to assist! Prepare for the wounded!” 

Amidst their gasping, the bird repeated its message, flying off once more. It left them behind, flying off into the distance. 

“Shouldn’t we go?” Giyuu walked inside, heading towards the front door. Shinobu burst from her office, grabbing hold of his arm. 

“It’s clearly too far, or the crow would’ve waited,” when she was certain he wasn’t going to keep walking away, Shinobu let him go. “If it takes you an hour to run there, it’ll be too late. You’ll have to follow the bird’s pace.”

Sighing, Giyuu leaned up against the wall opposite her. Kanao and Nezuko followed them inside, Nezuko taking her place by Giyuu’s side. 

“So what do we do?” running a hand through his hair, Giyuu dragged it down his face, resting his chin in his palm.

“We wait,” Shinobu smiled sadly, her lips barely upturned at the corners. “Like we always do. And we hope everyone will be okay.”

“Shinobu!” Aoi ran into the hallway, flustered. The other girls ran closely behind her. “Are we setting up all the beds?”

“Yeah,” she walked over to Aoi, leading the girls into one of her infirmary rooms. “Giyuu, please let us know if there’s any further news.” 

Nezuko by his side, Giyuu reluctantly walked back to the engawa, sitting awkwardly. He couldn’t settle in, knowing a fight was going on that he couldn’t be part of. A weight formed in his stomach, heavy and uncomfortable. Sitting around, being useless. What was even the point of being a pillar if he couldn’t be useful in times like these?

***

Nezuko had retreated back to their darkened room long before the sun had risen, protecting herself from their harsh rays. Giyuu still sat in the same place he’d been all night, waiting for any crow to come to inform them of developments. Guilt pooled in his stomach as he fidgeted, anxious about the outcome. Is this how Shinobu feels every time?

Finally, the crow came announcing their success. Upper Moon 4 was defeated, the village, for the most part, was saved. The villagers were relocated to another protected base overnight, all of their tools that could be easily moved taken with them. A few villagers had to be taken to various hospitals or Wisteria Estates nearby, but their numbers seemed to be few.

Kanroji, Tokito, and Genya were all brought to the Butterfly Estate for specialised treatment from Shinobu, as they’d faced the brunt of the battle. But they were all fine too, just likely to remain asleep for a few days. Even Shinobu was fine, just exhausted after caring for everyone all morning.

But something still felt off. 

Giyuu hesitated, kicking his foot in the dirt. He should be happy everyone was okay, but it just seemed like something was still coming. Attacking the swordsmith village with only one Upper Moon, and a fairly lowly numbered one, seemed foolish. Of course there would be multiple pillars there to defend them. Muzan had to know that. So what else was coming?

The sun reached its peak in the sky, slowly making its path back down before someone disturbed him.

“Are you just going to sit out there all day?” Shinobu called from that damn office window, stifling a yawn behind her hand. “You were up all night, too. Go to sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

Rolling his eyes, Giyuu complied anyway, reluctantly walking inside. It wouldn’t do him any good to let himself become sleep deprived when nothing bad could happen in the daytime anyway.

***

“Do you feel uneasy?” Giyuu yawned, watching Shinobu gather her things to head out for the night. She’d asked him to stay behind, even though she’d given him the all-clear medically.

“...A bit,” she confirmed, under her breath. Making sure no one was listening, she turned to him, keeping her voice low. “Everyone’s tense, because the swordsmith village was such a well-protected stronghold. They’re scared it’ll happen here, too. So if you could stay, at least for a few days, to give them some peace of mind...”

“I’ll stay,” nodding, Giyuu followed her out to the front door. Waving back at them, she and Kanao darted off into the night.

“Tomioka?” Aoi poked her head out the door, looking a little flustered. “Are you coming back in? Kanroji’s asking for a demon slayer.” 

Silently, he followed her back in, waiting as she clicked the door shut behind them. She was less paranoid now that he’d gotten Shinobu’s all clear, knowing he was capable of fighting on their behalf. Ignoring the fact he’d fight no matter what condition he was in, she at least felt better now. 

Leaving him at the door to the infirmary room, Aoi headed off with a quiet warning. “They’re all still very injured, so don’t linger for long.”

“Tomioka,” she smiled, but it wasn’t as bright as usual. Dark bags stained the thin skin beneath her eyes, betraying her exhaustion. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Shinobu asked me to stay, as a favour,” settling into a stool beside her bed, Giyuu kept his voice low. “What did you want to talk about?”

“When we were fighting the Upper Moon,” her eyebrows drew together tight, a deep frown on her face. “He said that wasn’t the only attack.”

“What?” alarmed, Giyuu stood quickly. The stool behind him clattered to the floor, but he paid it no mind. “Where else did they say they were going?”

Despite all the noise he’d made, Kanroji slipped back into a deep sleep. Sighing, Giyuu picked up the stool, closing the door to the infirmary behind him. The feeling of discontent grew deeper in his gut; the silence of the estate no longer comforting. Something was amiss, but he just didn’t know where to start looking.

“Help!” screaming echoed through the empty hallways, raising the hair on the back of Giyuu’s neck. Without thinking, he ran, weaving through the sprawling estate. It came from the front garden; that was all he knew. Nezuko threw open a door on his way past, chasing after him. 

Throwing open the door, Giyuu froze. Sumi, terrified, was scratching at the sides of a giant water bubble that trapped her. The other girls scrambled around the sides, trying to pop it; release the pressure. But nothing worked. The water had a film around the outside, which contorted and stretched around the force of their hands.

“Isn’t it marvellous?” a snide voice called out from beside her. Giyuu took his eyes off Sumi for just a moment, finding a strange looking demon sticking out of an oddly ornate pot. Speaking from one of its mouth-eyes, laughter billowing from the other. “Death by suffocation is stylish and beautiful. Would you like to try it, pillar?”

“Nezuko,” gritting his teeth, Giyuu forced the words between them. “Get Sumi out.”

Without even a moment’s hesitation, she ran. Giyuu didn’t want to give the demon time to stop her - Sumi hadn't passed the Final Selection, so her breathing techniques had gone untrained for a long while - so he charged, too. From a distance, he could faintly see etchings on the demon’s eyes. Upper Moon Five.

So this is the second attack they had planned.

Freeing his sword, Giyuu slashed through the pot the demon rested in. It disappeared, only a broken pot remaining in the dirt. 

“How dare you destroy my vase? It was a work of art!” hissing, the demon yelled down at him from atop the roof of the Butterfly Estate. Giyuu rolled his eyes, following it up there. He jumped, hard. Indents of his footprints marked the ground below him, dirt kicking up as he leaped. Bringing his blade down, he smashed through the pot again, the broken pieces rolling down the tiles. 

“Appreciate my work!” the demon screamed, spittle flying from both mouth-eyes. “A brainless monkey like you destroying things too cultured for you to understand!” 

Trying to hold back another eye roll, Giyuu jumped off the roof. There wasn’t that much space between the demon and the Butterfly Estate; if he didn’t kill it soon, things could get ugly. 

“You’re disgusting! Filthy! Don’t lay another hand on my beautiful works!”

The demon ran away any time he got near; dipping into the protective shells of his pots. Its neck was its weak spot. Good. He didn’t want to deal with another Daki and Gyutaro. 

Steeling himself, Giyuu adjusted his grip on his sword. Somewhere behind him, he heard the telltale rush of water, the ground beneath them all getting a little wet. Sumi hacked up the water from her lungs, collapsing to the ground. 

She’d been right, all this time. Right to fear demons attacking the estate, right to fear her own weakness. Despite how much they’d all brushed her aside, Aoi had been right. Staring down the demon across from him - Upper Moon Five, the third Upper Moon he’d had to personally face - Giyuu just sighed. 

This was only the beginning.

Chapter Text

Gritting his teeth, Giyuu assessed the situation. With Sumi freed from the water prison, Nezuko would be able to rejoin him. If she could corner the demon - perhaps set it on fire? - he’d be able to cut it’s neck. Maybe. It seemed to be able to spawn new pots wherever it wanted, so that’d be another thing to contend with. Looking around the area, the bitter taste of futility crept up Giyuu’s throat. The garden of the Butterfly Estate had seemed so quaint, once. Perfectly sized for the home it surrounded. Now the fences seemed as though they were closing in.

But as long as he could find the demon’s weak spot, it’d be okay. He’d protect them all.  

“Get inside,” barely sparing the girls a glance, Giyuu sent them away. The less moving parts he actively had to protect, the better. Murmurs of acceptance came from behind him, accompanying the quiet shuffling of feet. Sumi kept coughing, water clinging to the hollows of her lungs, but she seemed to be walking fine on her own. Nezuko had gotten to her just in time.

“Do you not want to see the Great Gyokko’s works? Are you leaving that quickly? How did you not die?” calling out to the girls, the demon waved to them between the barrier Giyuu and Nezuko formed. Their shoes clicked on the wooden engawa, signalling their exit. Snarling, Gyokko pulled out a pot from nowhere, holding it close to his chest. “How dare you ignore me!” 

Giyuu stepped back slightly, bending his knees just a bit. Lowering his centre of gravity, he saw Nezuko drawing her sword from the corner of his eye. With his oddly shrunken hands, Gyokko threw the pot at them, small wooden spikes launching free from the ceramic confines, flying through the air. They whistled a little, hurtling towards them at breakneck speed. 

Stilling his movements in preparation for Lull, Giyuu snuck one last look over his shoulder. The girls were still trying to shuffle Sumi along, stuck on the engawa. They’d frozen, staring wide eyed at the scene before them. Making sure he’d be able to protect them from the brunt of the attack, Giyuu raised his sword above his head, only stopping those that threatened to miss him. Cutting down as many spikes as he could before they reached him, Giyuu winced, feeling the odd one slam into his skin. They were ice cold - too cold to be natural, they were likely poisoned by the way they seemed to burn the entry wounds with frost - but there weren’t that many. It seemed like Gyokko wasn’t aiming for him at all. But why not? He was the only pillar standing. Even though there were others resting indoors, Gyokko wouldn’t know exactly where just yet. Giyuu would be the most likely target. 

Finally, the attack slowed down. Hissing, Giyuu rolled his shoulder, feeling the spike that stuck in his upper arm wriggle along with his movements. Sickening laughter filled the garden.

“So, how did you like the thousand needle fish kill?” swaying in his pot, Gyokko laughed wildly, tongues poking out from the mouths in his eye sockets. Oddly enough, his jaw stills seemed to work as though his face were normal, stretching the bottom eye far wider than what seemed natural. “Little demon girl?”

Nezuko stood in front of Giyuu, sword hanging limply from her outstretched hand. Both arms were out, shielding him from the brunt of the attack. Due to the focus that Lull demanded, he hadn’t even noticed her running in front of him. Needles stuck out from every part of her body, some even stabbing all the way through thinner areas. Her wrists shook around the needles, skin stretched and contorted to allow space for the intrusion. Tremors ran up her limbs, shaking her form, but she stood firm. 

“Covered in needles, you’re a laughable sight!” Gyokko laughed again, contorting his grotesquely unnatural face even more. Spittle flew from his mouths, dripping down his cheeks. “What kind of pathetic demon protects a human? You’re saving a worthless life, there’s no gain! Even showing yourself in front of me is a death sentence. The master wants you dead, so that is what you will be.” 

Tensing, Giyuu glared over Nezuko’s head. If anything was laughable, it would be the idea that Nezuko would be dying under his watch. But a chill settled itself at the base of Giyuu’s spine, stiffening his back. He’d said that before. ‘I’ll protect everyone,’ he’d thought, ‘I’ll never let anyone die in my care again.’ But fate had never been so kind to let him fulfil his promises; the gods laughed at him from their divine realms, watching him fight for an outcome they’d never allow to come to fruition. 

The chill crept its way up, sending shivers up Giyuu’s spine.

“And the pillar you’re so desperate to protect!” during his speech, Nezuko had begun pushing all of the needles from her body; the blood demon art seemingly being rejected by her own. With only the slightest movement, they slid out on their own, falling to the grass with a dull thud. While Gyokko was distracted, Giyuu began ripping the needles from his own body. There were only a few: one through his upper arm, his cheek, and his leg. Throwing them to the ground amongst Nezuko’s, the icy burn in his veins crumpled his nose. Coupled with the chill rooting his body to the spot, Giyuu found it hard to move. The poison would have to be addressed soon enough. “What kind of masterpiece can I make from that pillar standing behind you?” 

A low, guttural growl rumbled in front of him, Nezuko glaring at the demon. It only served to make him laugh more, sneering down at the girl. Hyper aware of those behind him, Giyuu backed up slowly, climbing up the engawa while Gyokko’s attention was on Nezuko.

“You three need to hide,” keeping his voice low, he peered at them over his shoulder. Hot flashes washed over him, the poison making its way through his veins, taking over his heart. The younger ones were all supporting Sumi, who shivered as a cool night breeze blew past her sodden clothes. Aoi trembled, loosely gripping a sword in her right hand. Heart clenching, Giyuu swallowed thickly, a lump in his throat obstructing the passage of his saliva. The terror rolled off her in waves, but she still stood in front of the others. He’d make sure she didn’t have to fight. “Go inside, now.”

“But…” Aoi hesitated, steeling her shoulders. Her grip on the sword tightened, but it was still weak. “Will you be okay? The poison needles...” 

“We’ll be fine,” nodding, Giyuu kept an eye on Nezuko, who’s hackles had raised when she felt his presence move away from her. “Protect yourselves.” 

“Come on, Aoi,” Kiyo tugged on her hand, standing in the open door. “We need to send word to the others.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aoi nodded. Running inside, she closed the door behind her softly. Faintly, Giyuu heard all four sets of footsteps tapping away to the other end of the estate where the crows lived. From the corner of his eye, he saw crows flying off into the sky, ready to seek assistance. 

At a faint splash, and a whoosh of air, Giyuu whirled around. Nezuko whined, reaching out to him. He swung his blade, tearing it through a horrifying fish monster, with two blades for arms, and oddly humanoid legs. It crumbled as soon as his blade cut free, falling into a pile of ash at his feet. A sickening crunch preceded the sound of tearing flesh, a rush of blood spattering over the ground. 

Nezuko, in her distraction, had turned her back to Gyokko to try and reach Giyuu. A blade stuck out from the middle of her chest, holding her up off the ground. Clenching his hands so tight his blade felt like it may snap, Giyuu forced himself to stay still. She’d be fine. As a demon, she’d be fine.

“How dare you turn away from the marvellous Gyokko?” the demon wobbled in his pot, watching as Nezuko pulled herself off the fish creature’s blade. Staggering, she narrowly avoided crashing to the floor, earning herself a sickening laugh from the Upper Moon. “Are you finally paralyzed by my poison attack?” 

Quietly, to not draw any attention to himself, Giyuu prepared to move. While Nezuko kept the demon’s attention on her, he jumped as fast as he could, flipping upside down. Slashing his blade, he swapped to Dance of the Fire God mid-breath. Barely missing his neck, Gyokko swapped to yet another pot, growing more and more irate. Coughing heavily, Giyuu doubled over, lungs aching from the switch. 

Without saying another word, the pot Gyokko had left behind them exploded, gigantic octopus tentacles wrapping around the both of them. They squeezed, the suction cups sticking to their limbs so tight they could barely breathe, let alone move. 

“How do you like the power of octopus flesh?” cackling from the ground, Gyokko shouted up at them, high in the sky. “You can’t cut through that. I will crush and absorb you both, then everyone else in this forsaken estate!” 

Gritting her teeth, Nezuko growled even louder. Giyuu’s arm was stuck to his side, the tentacle crushing him so tight his ribs creaked under the pressure. If they stayed trapped too much longer, they’d snap. Holding his breath, Giyuu tried to keep as much air in his lungs as possible. He’d only have the strength to move his sword once. Looking over, Giyuu saw Nezuko staring right back at him, the familiar flame-like pattern licking one side of her forehead, demon horn bursting through the other. He opened his mouth to warn her to be careful, to not lose control, but all that came out was a strained wheeze. Fingers twitching on the handle of his blade, Giyuu was desperate to cut them free, but he just couldn’t move. 

With a familiar crackle, Nezuko set the tentacles on fire. They shrivelled and twitched, curling in on themselves under the heat. Peeling away from Giyuu, the one that held him in the air crumbled into blackened ash, letting him fall to the ground. His chest heaved under the force of his gasps, pulling in as much oxygen as he could. She’d set him on fire too, carefully burning away any last trace of poison in his veins.

The warmth from her flames burnt away the chill in his spine. Nezuko was more than capable of protecting herself. 

Even more tentacles burst toward them, from a pot held in Gyokko’s hands. Cognizant of the Butterfly Estate right behind them, he launched. His left cheek burned. Spinning in his run up, Giyuu gave his lungs a chance to recover by switching back to Water Breathing, Tenth Style. Slicing apart the tentacles, they fell to the grass and withered beneath his feet. Building up power, he tore his blade through the put in Gyokko’s hands, just grazing his face with the tip of his sword before the demon swapped to yet another pot. 

There was barely any space in the courtyard; large, imposing wooden fences caging them in. Behind them, the Butterfly Estate loomed, its fragile wooden framing all the more noticeable when backing an Upper Moon. Not only did they have to protect the inhabitants, the structure itself was essential to the Demon Slayer Corps. For everyone’s benefit, they had to save the estate.

But selfishly, Giyuu had come to think of it as a home to him, too. It was the home of his best friend and her family, that she’d opened up to him and Nezuko alike, no matter how much she protested or pretended it was an inconvenience. Seeing it fall to a demon would break him.

“You’re a nuisance,” Gyokko focussed his attention on Giyuu, manifesting yet another pot. Despite knowing it was part of his blood demon art, Giyuu was beginning to wonder where he was storing them all. “I’ll deal with you after.” 

Emptying the contents of the pot towards him, Gyokko turned his attention to Nezuko. It was just water, like what had imprisoned Sumi. Racing towards him, the bubble unnaturally wobbled in the air, but it was semi solid, a skin encasing the water within. Leaning back, Giyuu spun his blade in a circle through Dance of the Fire God, the water seemingly boiling and steaming away where it touched metal. 

Growling, Nezuko smashed another pot with her foot, dropping her heel harshly onto the top of it. Clay crumbled beneath her feet, disintegrating into ash in the grass. Another pot popped up, Nezuko beating Gyokko over to it to smash it into the dirt.

“Do you not see the beauty of my magnificent pots?” spittle flew from Gyokko’s dual mouths, tongues protruding far from his face. “They’re a commodity! A collector’s item!”

Frowning, Giyuu inspected the pot the demon sat in. It was a little wonky, the left side dipping a little lower than the right.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” focussing on Giyuu now, Gyokko seethed. “Why aren’t you shaking in awe at the beauty of the marvellous Gyokko’s works? Cower before my talent!” 

Widening his eyes slightly, Giyuu looked away from the scene in front of him. It was beginning to get embarrassing. 

The aura of pure rage radiated from behind them, the slightest breeze brushing Giyuu’s long hair across his back as it passed overhead. A familiar white haori billowed before him, Shinobu’s unique sword scratching a deep cut across Gyokko’s chest before he popped away to another pot. Fuming, she spun on her toes, meeting eyes with Giyuu.

“Is everyone okay?” she spat through her teeth, diverting her attention past him. Kanao stood behind her, a fear stricken look crossing her face. Nodding quietly, he turned to face the demon, loath to leave his back exposed. “Good.” 

Marching past him, Shinobu took her place one step in front of everyone. Quietly, but not quite as silent as a pillar, Kanao came up, standing next to Nezuko, notably far away from her sister. Shinobu seethed, her grip on her sword so tight it shook the blade to the tip.

“How dare you attack my estate!” Shinobu hissed, the words barely escaping past her snarl. They were heavy, yet clipped, poisoned arrows designed to intimidate the smiling demon across from her. Anger rolling off her in waves, the hair on the back of Giyuu’s neck stood tall. No one had ever seen so much true emotion come from Shinobu. “How dare you step foot on my grounds.” 

In the midst of her anger, Shinobu had shoved her sword back into its sheath, clicking a few buttons. Launching, everyone watched as she jumped at the Upper Moon, frozen in awe. She’d always been lauded as the weakest pillar, but she absolutely held the title of being the fastest. 

Just before Gyokko could swap pots, she thrusted her blade deep into his abdomen. Screeching - a loud, ear piercing sound - he launched to the roof the second Shinobu tore her blade free, throwing another pot at them. 

Fish exploded from it, in a never ending, relentless attack. This time, Giyuu moved first, slashing apart as many fish as he could. The pot seemed to pump them out at a continuous rate, fish filling the garden at a relentless pace. 

“You go after him,” he yelled at Shinobu, over the sound of everyone cutting apart the fish. Shinobu’s blade would be useless against these; the thin tip designed for stabbing would have minimal effect on a continuous, overwhelming attack. Nodding, she jumped up onto the roof, taking Kanao with her. Nezuko stayed by his side, cutting as many fish as she could. 

A long groan behind them made Giyuu’s concentration falter. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the fish they’d both missed cutting into pieces forming a larger, more aggressive monster. It was just like the one that had stabbed Nezuko earlier, only with every additional fish, it grew larger in size. A quick glance to the roof saw Shinobu managing to get in a few more poison-laced stabs, Kanao slicing the pot Gyokko resided in into pieces. 

With Ninth Style, Giyuu weaved between the fish, barely touching the ground in his run. They slapped against him nonetheless, their scales tearing tiny cuts in his skin that burned unnaturally cold. Ignoring the bite of poison against his skin, he pushed on, slicing the pot into as many pieces as he could. Finally, the fish stopped spawning. 

What a nuisance. 

Whirling back around, he took a deep breath, warming his lungs back to the fire god. He ran, the air he drew in burning in his lungs, only to be released in a fiery haze as he flipped, tearing his sword through the giant fish. Narrowly, its sharpened fin just missed cutting his back, swiping only at the air as it crumbled. Landing light on his feet, Giyuu turned to find Gyokko back on the ground.

“Do you really think you can win with that pathetic blade?” sneering up at Shinobu, Gyokko’s voice was laced with condescension. His mouths, and the lips that acted as lids for the bottom eye were all upturned at the corners, smugness radiating from the demon. The two girls were held high in the air, squirming and struggling in the same octopus tentacles that had bound Giyuu before. Kanao quickly sliced herself free, falling to the ground amongst the cut appendages. “All you’re good for is a few stabs. That won’t do anything against me!”

Nezuko tugged at his sleeve, moving Giyuu’s attention to her. She pointed silently at another pot that had popped up, fish flying out towards them. But it was far less than before, weaving through the air so slowly it seemed as though they’d fall to the ground. With a cursory flick of his blade, Giyuu sliced them all in two with ease. He turned back to the others, prepared to cut Shinobu free, but paused when a piece of tentacle dropped to the ground, withering and writhing in pain. 

“You’re not the only one who can play with poison,” Shinobu’s voice was laced with malicious laughter, smug condescension of her own shining through. The tentacles that trapped her unwrapped themselves, Shinobu landing on her feet with ease. Her unique blade tip shined with blood, liquid running its way down the oddly thin length. 

“Don’t underestimate me, brat,” seething, Gyokko jumped between a multitude of pots, settling into one high in the trees. His speed picked up again, Shinobu’s poison wearing off. With a growl, she replaced her blade in its sheath, fiddling with the buttons to create a new mix. “You’ve only been alive around fifteen years or so. I’ve already broken down your poison.”

Moving to stand next to her, Giyuu eyed Shinobu quietly. Annoyance rolled off her in waves, her simpering smile turning hard at the comment, but she didn’t say a word. Finally satisfied with the poison, she halted her tinkering, turning back to the demon. 

“Maybe so,” she trilled, her voice light and airy despite the hatred she exuded. “But you’re a wonderful participant in my studies nonetheless. Thank you for your participation.”

“Huh?” tilting his head, Gyokko stared down at her in confusion. “Studies? You look too stupid to do anything other than cater to your husband, with that misshapen sword of yours.”

“Perhaps I do,” twitching, Shinobu barely concealed her irritation, an angry flush staining her cheeks. “But you do not look as though you’d understand the complexities of beauty either, so I do not believe you should be one to judge. Your artwork… falls short of your boasting.”

Concealing a sigh, Giyuu turned just a little. With a slight shift, he lowered his centre of gravity, just waiting for when the demon would snap. Shinobu had a knack for that.

“You good for nothing midget asshole!” spittle flew out of Gyokko’s mouths - it was beginning to become a habit, Giyuu noted - as he screamed at her. “What are you implying? What’s wrong with my pots!” 

Holding a pot in all eight of his hands, Gyokko let loose with yet another fish attack. This time, the fish were all bigger, almost bloated looking. They’d regained their speed from before, Shinobu’s poison well and truly worn off. 

Standing firm, Giyuu filled his lungs. Shinobu jumped away, taking Kanao with her. With the same Dance of the Fire God attack as before, he split them all in two with ease. Faintly, he saw a barely visible gas seep out of the torn fish. Continuing his attack, Giyuu blew away all of the poison before it could reach him, immediately running towards the demon when it had cleared. Slashing through Gyokko’s neck, Giyuu grumbled when it ended up only being skin. Disgusted, he flicked the remains off his blade, frowning down at it on the ground. 

“I will show you my true form now,” from the trees above him, Gyokko’s voice slithered from the shadows. It seemed as though he’d finally ditched the pots, a long, scaly tail wrapping around the trunk he rested on. “You’re one of few people I’ve ever shown it to. When I get serious, I never leave anyone alive.”

Unimpressed, Giyuu watched as Gyokko slowly revealed himself, letting the moonlight land softly on his form. He looked basically the same, only more scaly, and with normal arms. An improvement, somewhat.

“These clear scales are harder than diamonds,” clenching his clawed wrist in the light, he twisted his arm so the moonlight bounced off every scale. “I kneaded them together in this pot. Now prostrate yourself before my perfect beauty!” 

Giyuu stood silently, Nezuko yawning by his side. The quiet dragged on, growing ever louder the longer it lasted. 

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Gyokko screamed, veins throbbing in his face. Just barely, Giyuu saw Shinobu moving through the trees from the corner of his eye, behind Gyokko’s back. She snuck up closer through the demon’s screaming, waiting in the dark. “Are you brain damaged? Do you know how to speak at all?”

“I prefer to not waste my breath on worthless existences such as yours,” sighing, Giyuu took a slight step back, preparing for another onslaught of screaming. As Gyokko processed his words, Shinobu crept ever closer, now looming just behind him, a sword’s length away.

In lieu of saying anything at all, Gyokko launched. Freed from his pots, he was now able to move on his own, flying towards Giyuu with an extended fist. Just before he jumped away to dodge, Giyuu saw faint little stab wounds that healed over, and a glimpse of Shinobu’s haori disappearing into the trees. Thanking his lucky stars the newly formed scales weren’t enough to best her strength, Giyuu jumped up to the tree Gyokko had just leapt from, Nezuko finding a place atop the Butterfly Estate’s fence. 

The ground where Giyuu once stood was littered with fish, more popping up wherever Gyokko laid a hand. Bothersome. 

“Everything I touch with my fists turns into sweet little fish,” opening and clenching his fist, Gyokko smirked up at Giyuu, perched in the trees. The cuts Shinobu had torn into his skin healed over, the demon paying them no mind. Giyuu squinted, trying to read the demon’s expression. It didn’t seem as though he’d realised she’d hit him at all. “You’re the water pillar, right? Becoming a fish would be fitting, for you.”

Giyuu just stared, unwilling to entertain the delusional rambling of an Upper Moon. Ignoring his rants, Giyuu zoned out a little, watching Gyokko crawl closer. The demon was strong, but only in an irritating way, despite being Upper Moon Five. Facing off against Daki and Gyutaro had caused him more trouble, even though they were of a lower ranking. He couldn’t understand what earnt Gyokko such an esteemed position. 

Letting Gyokko crawl ever-closer to him, Giyuu stayed still in the trees. Nezuko shifted from the fence, jumping down to hide when she’d left his eyeline. Another flash of white caught his eye, the only proof Shinobu had moved at all. 

“I’ll make you into a work of art first,” Gyokko hadn’t stopped talking, continuing his tirade about the niceties and beauty of the arts. Struggling to hold back an eye roll, Giyuu bit his tongue. It wouldn’t do to provoke him now. Not when Shinobu’s wrath was potent enough for the both of them. “Then I’ll hunt down every butterfly girl hiding in this little estate.”

Across the garden, Shinobu stepped out from behind the walls, her footfall echoing between the fences. Her stride screamed of purpose, each step demanding attention. 

“Why don’t I make your search easier, hm?” holding the handle of her blade to her head, Shinobu smiled easily. Her eyes were closed, but it still didn’t reach them. The air was frigid around her, her breath seemingly coming out in frozen puffs, despite the warmth of the night. “I’m right here.” 

As soon as Gyokko’s back was turned, Giyuu allowed himself to disappear. He slid behind the building, just enough for the walls to hide him away, but close enough to hear. Shinobu’s voice was biting, every frozen word stabbing its way past the demon’s armoured skin. Imperceptibly, she shook her head when purple eyes met blue. She wasn’t ready yet. 

When Gyokko had gotten just a few steps away from her, he froze. His skin bubbled, some of the scales sliding off to the grass. Frozen, Giyuu stared, breath hitching in his throat. Each inhale became more choppy, less and less air making its way to his lungs. The way Gyokko’s ashen skin melted made his head spin, fever dreams of Tsutako ripping their way to the forefront of his mind. Bile burnt its way up his throat, stinging the soft flesh, but he forced it back down, images of his sister along with it. 

Steeling himself, Giyuu focussed all his mental energy onto the feeling of his blade in his hand. Faintly, he could hear Shinobu stalling, realising something was off with Giyuu, but he pushed it aside. He’d be okay soon. Rolling the blade in his hand, he ran his fingertips over the fabric, feeling the dips and grooves from where his grip had worn it thin. He’d have to get it restrapped soon. 

Swallowing thickly, Giyuu grabbed the handle hard. Slowly, he peeked his head around the corner, seeing Shinobu backed up against the fence. Gyokko hadn’t gotten to her yet, but his skin was beginning to heal. The poison was wearing off. 

They weren’t going to get another chance like this. Giyuu would be damned if he squandered it because of some nightmare. 

With the deepest breath he could muster, Giyuu tore out from behind the estate, running as fast as he could. Feet slammed into the dirt, tearing up the carefully tended grass with every stride. Spinning, Giyuu wove in front of Gyokko, cheek burning as Dance of the Fire God set his lungs alight. Gyokko tried to catch him, laughing to himself about how he’d been ‘playing with them the whole time,’ but Giyuu blocked it out. Every hit Gyokko moved to land on him missed, clawed hands grasping at nothing but his afterimage as he moved just out of reach. 

Getting behind the demon, Giyuu leapt into the air, letting him grab the final afterimage. Spinning, he slid his blade neatly through Gyokko’s neck, landing on the grass in silence. A dull thud followed suit, as the headless body hit the ground. 

An uncomfortable quiet filled the garden, despite their victory. It was tense, the weight of the the quiet thickening the air in his lungs, threatening to make him choke. A quick look at Shinobu showed she was much the same; furrowed brows adorned her narrowed eyes as she scanned the garden, watching Gyokko crumble away. Perhaps it was just the unnatural silence from the loud demon, who ordinarily would have been screaming over his defeat.

A wet crunch frayed the string that held the tense calm together. Gyokko’s frantic cackling snapped it.

“I see,” he choked out, one mouth already crumbled away. “The new Upper Moon 6 has arrived!” 

Giyuu’s heart sank to his stomach. Dread filled every part of his body, rooting him in place for one moment too long. Desperate screams came from the back garden - they’d not thought to check the goddamn back garden - the agony that laced the pained noises making Giyuu’s skin crawl. 

Ignoring the almost-dissolved demon on the ground, all four of them took off. It was silent, bar the sobs, not even a single breath breaking their quiet. Giyuu got there first, only by luck of being the closest to begin with. But he almost wished he wasn’t.

There was blood everywhere. It dripped from the roof, the grass squelched beneath his feet. The macabre scene was all too familiar; Nezuko’s whimper as she saw the blood dripping off the nearby trees made Giyuu flinch. Unconsciously, he put a hand just in front of her, trying to shield her from the sight. 

Aoi sobbed as the girls worked on her, tightening a tourniquet over the stump that used to be her right leg. All three of the little ones were dripping with her blood, but they paid it no mind as they worked to desperately cut the flow off. There was just so much blood everywhere that the little voice in the back of Giyuu’s head whispered reminders of how his sister had lost less, yet she was still dead before he could save her. Why would Aoi be any different?

A sword glinted on the ground next to them, handle mere centimetres from Aoi’s clenched fists. She’d clearly dropped it in favour of tearing up handfuls of grass to bear the pain, but that wasn’t the concern. If she’d brought it out with her, then what had she seen? 

“Please,” Aoi sobbed, trying her best to calm her breathing. The word got stuck in her throat, coming out thick, and wet. “Go back inside. Save yourselves.”

“We are not leaving you!” Kiyo’s voice hitched, but she held back her tears. “Get it into your head!” 

A whoosh of wind slammed into them, Giyuu nearly toppling over. Hair whipping all around his head, his eyes were forced shut just to keep the strands out. When it calmed down enough, he dreaded opening them again, knowing the worst of the attack missed him.

“Kiyo!” Shinobu screamed, shoving her way past Giyuu. Forcing his eyes to open once more, his jaw dropped.

Kiyo had been crushed into the wall of the estate, the wooden panelling creaking as it fought to stay in place. She was unrecognisable; the only thing proving that it was her being her absence from Aoi’s side. Her blood slickened the engawa, dripping between the cracks of the planks. 

“All three of you, inside. Now,” Shinobu spat through her teeth, winching when the word three fought its way free. “Blood transfusions, the works. Stop her bleeding. I won’t lose Aoi, too.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight, a chill making its way down his spine. Before he even looked, Giyuu ran and stood in front of all the girls, just stilling himself enough to Lull away the next attack. His bones creaked, shoes digging deep into the dirt as he was forced back, but he stood firm. Shinobu didn’t need to lose another sister tonight. Cuts tore open on his skin from pieces of the attack he missed, but they were all minor. Easy to ignore. Wind whipped his hair, making it hard to see, but no follow up attack came. Scrambling behind him, Shinobu and Kanao helped Aoi inside, leaving Nezuko and Giyuu behind.

Wind subsiding, Giyuu brushed the hair from his eyes, coughing. When he could finally breathe unobstructed, he looked up, trying to find the demon who’d blown the world toward them. Pangs of nostalgia stabbed his heart, but he willed them away.

Giyuu’s jaw dropped before he could hide his surprise, staring at the man - no, demon - before them. 

Shinazugawa. 

He looked different. His skin looked sickly; an oddly grey-tinge made him look as though he were dead - Giyuu supposed that wasn’t far from the truth, in reality - but it made the rest of his new features all the more vibrant. A pair of giant purple wings spread out from his shoulders, gently waving in the night breeze. They were likely where the wind attacks came from, because of course the former wind pillar would have wind attacks as a demon.

The word former echoed in his mind, reminding him of what could have been, but he swallowed that, too. 

Shinazugawa’s sclera had been dyed black, his once dark pupils swapped out for a lighter purple. From this distance, Giyuu could just see there was writing in place of a regular pupil, but it didn’t come as a shock. What did, was his body. Every scar that Shinazugawa had once taken pride in, shown off to the world. They were all healed over, leaving only clean, unmarked skin beneath. Nothing stood out, aside from the blooming of flowers oddly placed on his side. There was nothing else on him that matched the flowers, making them stand out all the more.

Frozen, Giyuu stood staring in horror. Shinazugawa was there. He was alive, but how alive was he, really? Was the life he now led truly one worth living? 

A shift from his side brought Nezuko to his mind, and guilt plagued his heart. Of course being a demon was better than death. That was everything she and her brother fought for. But looking at the shell of Shinazugawa, standing in the open gates of the Butterfly Estate, Giyuu couldn’t help but revert back to his old ways of thinking.

The best thing to do would be to put Shinazugawa out of his misery here, and let him die now. Before he killed too many. It was too late to save him from hell, but perhaps Giyuu could save him from a lesser sentence. 

He owed him. If only he’d come across Akaza earlier, then just maybe…

“How dare you,” Shinobu’s voice was merely a whisper, but it still carried through the breeze. “How dare you wear my sister’s death as though it were only an accessory? You come to her home, flaunting markings on your side just like the hole your kind left in hers, only to kill her sister, and maim another. How dare you!” 

Shinazugawa cackled, his mirth booming through the garden. The last lingering butterfly flew away, glinting blue in the moonlight.

“Kanae may have had a soft spot for demons,” Shinobu spat at him, walking forward to stand tall next to Giyuu. “But she would have despised you.”

Shinazugawa moved closer, nearing the fenceline of the estate all the while. Stiffening, Giyuu snuck a peek over his shoulder. They were too close. Aoi was fighting for her life, and there were healing pillars housed between the comforting walls. Even Genya-

Genya! 

They had to move, far, far away, lest Genya see the way his only living family member had ended up. All the hope he’d had for saving his life, giving him the cure… he’d forgotten the cure. Gritting his teeth, Giyuu watched Shinobu seethe. Her hands were stained red, flecks of Aoi’s blood marking the once-white of her haori. He’d have to convince her to let him live.

A tall ask, considering Shinazugawa had just murdered little Kiyo.

Luckily, Shinobu knew the situation just as well as he did. She advanced forward, Kanao hot on her heels. Giyuu followed along, removing as much incentive for Shinazugawa to go after the estate as possible. The two choices Giyuu faced began to tear him in two, sticking him between a rock and a hard place. If he let Shinazugawa live, to try and force him to take the cure at a later date, then others would die. There wasn’t even a guarantee the cure would work on demons that had killed. But if he chose to kill him… 

That wasn’t something he wanted, either. 

“My sister deserved better than you,” voice raising in volume little by little, Shinobu marched on. Breaching the gates of the Butterfly Estate, Giyuu found himself in the clearing, surrounded by forest. The dark of night was already beginning to lift, their fight against Gyokko eating most of the time away. “All of my sisters deserved better than you. I wish you’d never been in our lives at all.”

Shinazugawa still hadn’t said a word, beyond his occasional chuckles, he remained silent. Whether he remembered his past or not was up in the air, as his newly demonified face gave nothing away.

“Genya deserved better than you,” hissing, Shinobu gripped the hilt of her sword so hard the skin stretched over her knuckles looked as though it might split. “You should’ve died with your siblings that day.”

“Perhaps one day I might’ve agreed with you,” Shinazugawa finally broke his silence, easy smirk stretching his lips over his fangs. “But not today.”

Lifting his wings high above his head, Shinazugawa prepared to launch another brutal attack at them. From this range, if they couldn’t move away in time, they’d die. They’d be obliterated, if the smear that used to be Kiyo had anything to say about it.

All of them jumped in unison, scattering into the trees. Shinazugawa cackled wildly, glee mixing with malice in the boisterous sound. Sucking in air between his teeth, Giyuu bounced between the trees, slashing just at the place where Shinazugawa’s head had been moments prior. 

He couldn’t let him go off and kill anyone else. 

Shinobu screamed as she ran, a guttural sound that Giyuu had never heard from her before. Bouncing out of her way, he landed on a branch to her right, just catching a glimpse of a butterfly blooming on her cheek. The mark on Giyuu’s own tingled at the sight. He’d have to ask her about them later. 

Shinobu was fast. Arguably faster than Giyuu himself, and definitely faster than Shinazugawa had been, as a human. But the speeds she was reaching now were inhuman, borderline demonic. Stabbing as furiously as she could manage, Giyuu saw cuts open on Shinazugawa’s bare chest, looking oddly familiar, as though they were in the same places as his old scars had once been. But she wasn’t able to break through more than the skin.

Jumping from his place in the tree, Giyuu followed after Kanao, slashing at a still-cackling Shinazugawa with Fourth Style. The wounds closed as soon as they opened, seemingly having little impact at all.

“Sanemi?” another voice joined the fray, this time, sounding oddly childlike. The single word he uttered dripped with anguish, yet also comfort, and familiarity. Dodging another blow, Giyuu jumped out of the way to catch a glimpse of who he already knew the person to be.

Genya. 

He stood on the engawa, rubbing at his eyes. Donning little more than the hospital wear Shinobu gave all her patients, Genya’s age was all the more evident in his childlike state. Frozen, Genya stared at the scene in front of them. Shinazugawa, attacking his former colleague. Former… sister in law? Shinobu never elaborated if Kanae and Shinazugawa had a deeper relationship than what it appeared, and he’d never been one to pry. But the depth of Shinobu’s pain and rage now hinted at a greater betrayal than he’d ever imagined. 

With a growl, Shinazugawa moved to attack Genya, who stood defenseless. Nezuko jumped in his line of fire first, taking the brunt of the blow before it could reach the estate walls. Kanao grabbed her out of the way, cutting the last of the attack in half before it could do any more damage. The grass beneath them tore in two, whipping in a whirlwind fashion with little more than a glare. 

Hissing, Shinazugawa finally took a step. Beginning his march towards his only living family member, Shinazugawa’s eyes never moved from their target. With every blink, his speed increased, getting more and more inhuman. Shinobu tore past Giyuu, where he’d stayed perched on the fence, waiting for an opportunity. Before Shinazugawa could turn around, she stabbed him clean through, her odd little blade ripping a hole through his middle. The exit wound grew larger, as she ripped it back free, a spattering of his blood finding its mark on her skin. 

It sizzled, just a little, but she seemed to pay it no mind. 

Her poison worked a little faster this time. Shinazugawa’s skin grew mottled, veins protruding as his heart pumped it through them. Growling, he turned away from Genya, who finally broke free of his trance. He fell to the ground, landing hard on his tailbone as he scampered back from his former brother. Shinazugawa ignored the sounds from behind him, focussing his wrath onto Shinobu. 

“If you think that little mixture is gonna work on me, you’re a fucking dumbass,” the words came out clunky, as though his tongue was still getting stuck on his newly elongated teeth. “I’ve already digested it.”

“I know,” Shinobu smiled, but there was no joy in it. “But it achieved what I hoped.” 

Kanao flew out of nowhere, backed by the dawn sky. The sun had not yet risen, but it wouldn’t be long. Avoiding Shinazugawa entirely, she ran to Genya, dragging him back inside with one hand. With a roar, Nezuko tugged Giyuu down off the fence, shielding him from view. From behind the structure, Giyuu could hear Shinazugawa’s growls lowering in tone, growing ever more feral with each passing second. 

“What is it?” Giyuu kept his voice low, turning to Nezuko. She shook her head, hushing him. Pointing one finger to the sky, she gestured wildly in Shinazugawa’s direction, before pointing back up again. The deep blue was lightening, the first streaks of sunrise hue breaking through its depth. Nodding silently, Giyuu looked back down at her. Nezuko pointed to the clearing just past the treeline, where the first rays of sun would hit when it finally rose.

She wanted to trap him there. 

Gulping thickly, Giyuu nodded once. Without thinking twice, he rounded the corner, just in time to block an attack that seemingly came from nowhere. But it was a little slower than his first attack had been. Shinobu’s poisons were working. 

Shinazugawa stretched his wings, lifting them high in the air. They were enormous, the very tip of his farthest feathers touching both the fence and the wall of the estate. If he wanted, he could tear the structure in half with just an errant flick.

But he didn’t. For some inexplicable reason, when his feathers touched the walls, he retracted his wings, just the littlest bit.

Keeping low, Giyuu rolled to the side, ducking beneath the wind attack. Sword firmly in hand, he snuck behind Shinazugawa, slashing at the base of his right wing. Startled, he whipped around, shielding the fragile joint. Kanao leapt out of nowhere, just managing to graze the wing before Shinazugawa ducked out of the way. In his distraction, Shinobu stabbed it clean, delivering another load of poison.

“Fuck you,” he spat, crushing his wings to his back, shielding the vulnerable parts from attack. “If you think they’re all I’ve got, get fucking ready.”

Raking thick lines up his arm, Shinazugawa cackled as his blood fell through the air. Transfixed, they all stared, waiting to see what would happen when it finally landed. 

Screaming broke Giyuu from his trance; Nezuko tackled him out of the line of fire. The ground beneath Shinazugawa exploded, a vicious tornado whipping around where he stood. She pulled him to his feet, dragging him toward the gate. Shinobu, groaning, helped Kanao up, following suit. 

A gale blew past them all, knotting their hair in their faces. Rueing the day he denied letting Tsutako cut it, Giyuu spat his hair from his mouth, squinting to keep it from his eyes. The tornado slowed a little, just enough for Shinazugawa to walk free.

“We need to end this,” Shinobu forced her words through gritted teeth, barely audible over the wind. “He’s toying with us, but the sun is almost up.”

“Are you able to kill him?” sparing her a glance, Giyuu saw the frustration wash over her face, before being hidden behind her usual mask.

“No,” backing up slightly, she began luring Shinazugawa out towards them. “It’s not that I can’t bring myself to. I could, if I had to. Even though Genya would never forgive me. I’d pray for forgiveness to Kanae… but he killed Kiyo. He maimed Aoi, who is currently bleeding out without me to save her. I just don’t have the physical strength. But you do. Can you kill him?”

“I’ll have to,” after a pause, Giyuu let the admittance hang in the air. “It just reminds me of Nezuko…”

“She’s capable of receiving salvation,” Kanao interrupted them, piping up from Shinobu’s side. “I don’t think Shinazugawa is.”

“It’s up to you to lend me your physical strength,” Shinobu clicked a few buttons on her sword sheath, the poison within mixing around her blade tip. “I can slow him down for you.”

Nezuko tugged on his sleeve, dragging him to the treeline. They were different. Shinazugawa was nothing like her.

Even though the cure was being made for him-

Swallowing all his guilt and regret, Giyuu brought his sword in front of him. Shinobu sighed in relief, taking one more step back.

“Don’t kill him!” Genya hung out of the window, frantically reaching for his brother. Frozen, Giyuu stilled, watching as a hobbling Kanroji dragged him back inside. Shinobu stabbed Shinazugawa faster than he could blink, only to be batted away like little more than a moth by one enormous wing. Landing hard against the fence, she slid down its face, crumpling into a heap on the grass. 

“Shinobu!” Kanao ran to her aid, only to be intercepted by that same damn wing. He blew her back with a giant gust, nearly knocking Giyuu off his feet. It was almost impossible to stand firm in the face of the wall of air, let alone move against it. 

Nezuko dragged him through the forest, Shinazugawa thankfully hot on their heels. He’d left Shinobu behind - whether that was due to memories he may still have, or because she was already dead, Giyuu didn’t know - following close behind. But Nezuko refused to let up, dragging him even faster.

She pulled him to the middle of the clearing, bright and open. Stopping abruptly, Giyuu stumbled a little, righting himself as she let him go. Nezuko bent down, grabbing his blade with both hands, her blood streaming through her fingers as it painted the blue metal red. On instinct, Giyuu moved to jerk the blade out of her grasp, only realising it cut her worse when she whimpered.

“Let go!” he whispered, trying to pry her fingers free. “You’re hurting yourself!” 

His blade set on fire, just in time to combat a silent Shinazugawa. Whirling around, Giyuu dragged his blade directly through the floral pattern adorning his side, tearing a fatal wound through it. If only he were human.

Time froze for a moment, as Shinazugawa turned his head unbearably slowly to inspect the wound. One shaky hand moved to cup it, the flowing blood slowing as it quickly healed over.

“You’re dead.”

Jumping on instinct alone, Giyuu avoided being smacked with one enormous wing. Clutching his burning sword tight to his chest, he landed hard, the comforting warmth distracting him from the pain shooting up his legs. 

Nezuko unsheathed her sword, ripping it through the other wing while Shinazugawa’s focus was on Giyuu. Half of the appendage fell to the ground, crumbling in the light of dawn. Aiming for the other wing, Giyuu’s blade barely cut through a few feathers before he was forced to jump away, but it was enough. They burnt like kindling, Nezuko’s flames burning their way up his wing with little more than a few embers. Flapping desperately, Shinazugawa tried to put them out, but all it did was spread faster; the fanning of his wings adding even more fuel to the flames. 

He writhed, screaming as he burnt. It was awful, guilt pooling at the base of Giyuu’s stomach. The cries were laden with agony, carrying over the crackling of the flames all the way to the estate. Genya could likely hear everything.

Giyuu’s hands twitched on the hilt of his sword, Nezuko’s flames beginning to burn out. He tried to force his feet to move, but it felt as though they were sinking into the earth. All he could do was watch.

It seemed as though, despite Shinazugawa’s earlier words, they were both hesitating about killing each other.

A flash of white soared past, just as the flames burning Shinazugawa petered out. Shinobu skidded to a halt across the clearing, blood running down her forehead, but otherwise seemingly fine. Kanao stood at the other side, sword ready. 

“Didn’t you say you’d lend me your strength?” Shinobu screamed, her voice bouncing between the silent trees. “If you can’t kill a demon, no matter who they are, why are you even here?” 

Her words felt like poisoned daggers, each one hitting their mark in his heart. Tears burnt at his eyes, but he forced them back down. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything.

Air caught in his throat, choking him.

Why was he even here? 

He could breathe, but only barely. His chest rose in short bursts, each pant growing shorter until he was hardly taking in any oxygen at all. The world spun around him, feet sinking into the grass further and further until it was up past his knees, dragging him under. Drowning in the earth as it swallowed him whole.

Giyuu wished it would swallow him whole. 

Black spots crept over his vision, bile churning in his stomach. It burnt its way up his throat, but was forced back down by the sharpness of his breaths. Through his hazy vision, Shinazugawa’s melted, burnt face stood clear across from him. 

Melted like Tsutako had been, in his dream.

Shinazugawa cackled, Shinobu and Kanao desperately slashing at him. Shinobu stabbed him clean through the side, where Giyuu had nearly cut him in two earlier. Growling, the sound rumbled in his throat, growing louder until it was a full roar, shaking the leaves of the canopy above them, shaking Giyuu from his mental spiralling. 

Nezuko set his blade on fire once more, in an attempt to get him moving, but he was still frozen. Shinobu went to stab him once more, through the side - she was fixated on it, aiming all of her attacks for that one spot - but Shinazugawa caught on, slapping her away with his wing, dragging Kanao along with him. 

Before he could breathe, Giyuu ran.

Blade burning through the air behind him, Giyuu dragged it through Shinazugawa’s outstretched arm, leaping over the other. Landing on the top of his wing for a mere moment, Giyuu breathed deeply, using the elevated position to leap over his head. As long as his blade was alight, the only option he had was Dance of the Fire God. Perhaps it was for the best; Shinazugawa had never seen him use that style, after all. 

With the simplest form, Giyuu slashed his blade clean through one wing. It only took a second, one damned second, but as he drew in a deep breath Shinazugawa hit him full force with his other.

Forced from his feet, Giyuu flew through the air, slamming into a thick tree trunk. It shook from the weight of his impact, threatening to uproot. Sliding down the front, Giyuu felt the roughness of the bark scratching holes in his skin, but he ignored it in favour of trying to catch his breath. His ribs screamed, all his organs bruised from the shock of the dual impacts. Coughing up all the air he had, his chest and throat spasmed as they fought, trying to catch a breath and force all air out all at once. Rolling on all fours, he finally calmed enough to breathe, the cool drag of morning air soothing his aching lungs. 

Shinobu was still unconscious, Kanao having dragged them both to shelter. They were both out for the count, Kanao favouring her sword arm heavily, wrist looking like it was hanging at an unusual angle. Trying to get to his feet, Giyuu tripped and fell, his right leg giving from under him. Ankle aching, Giyuu poked it experimentally to figure out if he could stand at all anymore, but Shinazugawa’s mad laughter drew his attention. 

“Are you really too injured to keep going?” stalking towards him, all of Shinazugawa’s focus was on Giyuu. He paid Kanao no mind, despite her still dragging her sister to safety. “Is that all it took? And to think I wasn’t even fucking trying.” 

Feeling around for his sword, Giyuu came up short. Frantic, he whipped his head around, looking for where it could be. Catching a glimpse of blue, he breathed a sigh of relief, but Shinazugawa’s feet stopped right in front of him. Dropping to a crouch, the white haired man wrapped one clawed hand around Giyuu’s throat, sharpened nails digging into his nape. Droplets of blood rolled down his spine, absorbing into his uniform somewhere along the way. Shinazugawa tightened his grip until it was crushing, allowing the smallest bit of air to pass through. Blood rushed to his face, trapped as his veins were held closed by the force of Shinazugawa’s hand. Saliva pooled in his mouth, his throat too narrow to swallow.

“I know I used to be like you,” he spat, standing to his full height. Holding Giyuu against the tree with one hand, he laughed at how pathetic the other man looked. Scratching weakly at his arm, Giyuu tried to pull himself free to no avail. “But I’m not anymore. You’re going to die right here, slowly, and then I’ll take that little bitch with me.”

Growling with what little sound his crushed vocal cords allowed, Giyuu shook his head. He struggled even harder, trying to worm his way free, but Shinazugawa strengthened his grip. Blood flowed freely down his back now, wetting his uniform. 

“All before-” 

Cut off mid sentence, Nezuko tackled him into the clearing. She kicked Shinazugawa’s arm as hard as she could, ripping his elbow in two. Freed, Giyuu fell to his knees, tearing the hand from his neck. Coughing so hard he swore his ribs cracked, he finally sucked in some air. With all the strength he could muster, he forced himself to his feet, protesting ankle be damned. 

“Tomioka!” Kanao yelled out, throwing a black sword toward him. Nezuko’s sword. “Use this!” 

Gripping the pink handle tight, he forced air into his lungs, forced his ankle to hold him up, forced himself to run. Shinazugawa’s focus was trained on Nezuko, but she held firm, even when he smacked her outstretched arm with his wing so hard it ripped off. 

With all the strength he had left, Giyuu breathed deep, jumping in a wheel and slicing Shinazugawa’s wings clean off. He felt the air move around him before he saw the blow coming, the wounded roar of the demon following the impact of his fist to Giyuu’s cheek, like thunder following the flash of lightning in a storm. 

Crumpling to the grass, Giyuu watched as blood streamed over his eyes, staining his vision red. It pooled beneath him - Shinobu always said be careful of head wounds, for they bleed as though trying to kill you, or was it Tsutako? He was too woozy to think straight, the warmth of the newly risen sun lulling him to a deep sleep. The throbbing of his ribs, throat, head, ankle, everything kept him awake, each beat of his heart forcing blood through the injuries, the pain rearing its ugly head. Growls and snarls were distant, but he could see they came from Nezuko and Shinazugawa’s mouths respectively, even though the sounds were delayed. Not registering. The sun moved as they fought, strong yellow rays brightening the clearing, illuminating the blood they’d spilt.

Nezuko, screaming, kicked Shinazugawa hard. He stumbled into the sun, his hand firm on her wrist, dragging her with them. Their exposed skin burnt, blackening and spreading, as though the sun itself was enough to set them alight. Giyuu wanted to hum, but he couldn’t make much sound. The idea was fantastical, that people could catch on fire from the sun alone. Perhaps if they were demons, then it’d be possible.

“Nezuko, run!” Kanao screamed, her footsteps coming to a halt beside Giyuu’s prone body. “Oh, no, no, no, Tomioka, get up! You have to get her out of the sun, now!” 

Dragging him into an upright position, Kanao propped him up. Giyuu’s head lolled to the side, but his eyes remained trained on the scene in front of him. It was spinning, but he felt a little more alert, the early morning sun blinding him. His head throbbed, eyes trying to block out the harsh light. His head felt like it’d burst into flame.

“She’s going to burn alive! Nezuko is going to die!”

Nezuko wouldn’t die, would she?

Pained screams came from the clearing, agony evident as they rose in volume.

“You’re gonna stay right here and burn alive,” Shinazugawa spat, trying to run into the dark, but Nezuko held onto him tight. “Don’t drag me into hell with you, you little fucking bitch!” 

A pair of brilliant purple wings glimmered in the sun - but they’ll catch fire as fast as they did before, why bring them out now, Shinazugawa? - tearing Nezuko’s arm in half. Finally free, Shinazugawa ran into the safety of the shadows, leaving Nezuko to burn. 

Nezuko to burn?

Nezuko’s going to burn!

Forcing his head upright, Giyuu ignored his dizziness, slamming his eyes shut. Barely able to support his own weight, he ran anyway, the distance to the clearing getting longer the faster he ran. He’d never make it in time. She was burning too much to move. She would die. It’d be his fault.

Shinobu was right. 

He was useless.

Stumbling through the trees, he finally broke the clearing. Falling flat onto the grass, a sob hitched in his throat, but not because of the stabbing pain of his rib finally snapping.

Nezuko was dying right in front of him, and he couldn’t move a few more steps to save her. 

Dragging himself to his elbows, Giyuu scanned the clearing, but she wasn’t there anymore. 

She was gone. 

Pathetically, he crawled to the scorched grass. He carded through the blackened dirt, trying to find any trace of her. Surely her clothes shouldn’t have burnt along with her? Even the ash demons left behind remained in the sun. The wind had died down when Shinazugawa’s wings were cut off; not even a morning breeze shook the leaves above him. But there was still nothing.

Was fate really so cruel to leave him nothing to grieve over?

Choking on a sob, Giyuu buried his face in his hands. He wished Nezuko had never saved him. If only Shinazugawa finished the job, then he wouldn’t be all alone.

Not again. He’d finally not been alone, just for a while. 

But it seemed as though that was all he was destined to be.

Alone.

“Come on,” Kanao’s voice was gentle, her hands as soft on his sides. “Let’s get back to the estate.”

“Stop,” he sobbed pitifully, slapping her hands away, no force behind his movements. “Leave me here to die.”

“You’re not dying on my watch,” grabbing him a little tighter, Kanao forced him upright, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “We’ve lost too much tonight.”

Sniffling, he allowed her to help him. His right foot dragged in the dirt, making him put too much weight on the smaller girl, but she didn’t complain. They hobbled together, at his pace, taking breaks whenever his cries were too strong for him to breathe. Kanao didn’t comment, letting him pause until he was ready. 

She stopped when they were out of the forest, staring at the Butterfly Estate through its open gates. Confused, Giyuu turned his head to meet her eyes, but she just pointed ahead of them in silence. Following her outstretched arm, Giyuu froze. 

Standing there, under the clear, burning light of the morning sun, was Nezuko. Unharmed. Not a lick of flame in sight. 

Her hair shone, the inky strands gently mussed by the breeze that finally started up. Eyes sparkling, she teared up a just little, smiling as wide as her face would allow. Giyuu stared in awe, mouth falling wide open. 

Lifting his arm from atop Kanao’s shoulder, Giyuu stumbled forward, only to fall to his knees after a few steps. Nezuko ran to him, kneeling as well. 

With the brightest smile he’d ever seen her wear, she took his face into her hands.

“Morning, Giyuu.”