Chapter Text
Kochou's short figure stood motionless, her pale, purple gradient eyes seemingly staring through the window of the Butterfly Mansion. To the eye of an observer, she'd seemingly be admiring something outside, why else would she be staring at a window? But in reality, well, Shinobu was basically staring into the abyss. She was waiting for something to happen, perhaps she would be sent on a mission or something of the sort, she might even be getting a patient. But, for now, almost nothing was on Kocho's mind. Well, nothing but the pain that she was constantly thinking about already.
Climbing over the fence around the back of the Butterfly Mansion, Muichiro tried to clear his head.
Go to the manor and ask for help, Muichiro kept repeating his mind. Normally he would have walked around to the gate but time was of the essence. Praying that Shinobu was not home, he landed on the slick wet grass. It was hard enough to need help. It would be worse if a fellow pillar had to see him like this. If luck was on his side, it would only be the butterfly staff. Hell, maybe no one would be home and he could simply take what he needed and do it himself. The moon was high, the weather cold and damp as he walked.
The cold damp wetness of the world lay in sharp contrast to the hot sticky blood running down onto green blades of grass, staining them a rich crimson. Unwillingly, he dropped to his hands and knees a few feet from the door. The world spun before Muichiro as he saw drops of blood drip from his mouth to the earth.
Shinobu's eyes immediately began to focus, seeing movement linger along the window.
Who was here? What were they doing? Upon closer inspection the Pillar noticed that it wasn't just a random Demon Slayer.. that was Muichiro Tokitou the youngest hashira. Those blue-ish tips definitely separated him from others, it made it easy for Kocho to distinguish who he was.
What is he doing here? Does he perhaps need something from me? Shinobu's question was immediately answered when the figure illuminated by the moon toppled over onto the porch of the Mansion. He was in horrible condition. A gasp escaped her lips, there was no time to be wasted, especially when it was a Hashira in this condition.
Shinobu practically ran out the door, prying it open and escaping to the hallway. She was shocked, she had never seen Muichiro in such a state. Other Hashira had been through severe injuries, but for the most part the Mist Pillar had held his own. Even with his young age, he always managed to avoid serious injury during battle. What had happened to him?
Nevermind that, she'd have to ask him once he had recovered. There was almost no one else occupying the mansion at the moment, no one to see Shinobu running through the hallways.
Finally reaching the entrance of the mansion, Shinobu practically busted the door open, kneeling down to Muichiro. She could only try to carry him on her own, but if trying was the only thing she could do, then she'd do it. She would force her weak arms to hold him, she had to be able to carry him, there wasn't anyone else around.
"Tokitou-Kun, Tokitou-Kun??"
She shook the kneeling figure, trying to see if he could respond to her in his current state,
"Muichiro, can you hear me???"
Who is speaking? Muichiro thought. The world slid in and out of focus like a penglem on a great clock. The only time he could make sense of anything was right in the middle. The swaying world, however, rarely stayed mercifully still. Uh, there was that talking again. Who was that? Looking down at his torn clothes he saw the wound going straight through his chest. He would have liked to say his trouble breathing was only due to the wound and not the memory of how he got it. Aggressively he began to try and wipe the blood that was not his own off him. It burned like hot coals on his skin. Unaware that, perhaps, the burning was from him scratching at a massive open wound that was desperately trying to close itself, he continued.
Hands from an unknown source grasped him in an attempt to get him to stop. He tried to fight against them but found they were way too strong for him.
Applying pressure to a wound would help the bleeding stop, obviously, but Muichiro was basically just rubbing dirt into it. Kocho firmly held his hands away every time he clawed at the gaping wound, "Quit it. You're going to get it infected." Her tone was serious, an absolute "I will take no shit from you" tone, but it didn't take away from the strong look of worry on her face,
"Take deep, sharp breaths. Don't suck in too much air, and if you do on accident, breathe out slower. Focus on your breathing, don't let the burning from the wound get to you."
The iron grip he perceived was not, in reality, strong at all; he was, simply, very weak. For a few more moments he struggled, uncharacteristically uncoordinated, against his perceived captor. Eventually, his will to fight failed and Muichrio slumped down accepting the will of whoever was holding him.
After calming a bit, he became aware that the kind but distant voice he heard was coming from the mouth of the person who held his arms. Slowly he lifted his gaze till his misty blue eyes met the gaze of an ally, Shinobu Kocho. A million things raced through his mind to say. Did he apologize for acting so embarrassingly or ask for help? Maybe he could brush this off and get her to leave. All he managed to say however was,
“Kocho,” and cough specks of blood in her direction.
She carefully slid one of his arms onto her shoulder, wrapping it around her neck.
"Tokitou-Kun, please. This is very concerning for me, I've never seen you in a state like this before. Is it okay for me to begin moving? Nod or shake your head, don't speak if it hurts."
Shinbou was saying something, he was sure of it, but she might as well have been talking in another language. Did she have to have been here? He had full intention to get out as soon as possible but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. She wanted him to move. He wanted nothing more than not to move. Every motion sent a spike of pain into him and he was trying very hard not to puke on her beautiful butterfly haori.
Assuming that Muichiro couldn't do even as much as move his head, Shinobu assumed that she might as well just try to get back to the recovery room. Shinobu re-entered the Mansion, closing the door as best as she could behind her- even though both of her arms were being weighed down by Muichiro.
The door was left extremely loose, but she'd just have to come back and close it later. Shinobu sighed, she knew she was basically talking to a brick wall, but she still liked talking, regardless of lacking a response.
"By the small chance you can hear me, I'm glad that you came here, even if you wanted to avoid me. Please, don't by any means think that this is embarrassing. I'm always happy to help. And, I will keep your injuries- no matter how severe- between us, if possible."
Of course, Shinobu didn't know if that was actually the case, but considering how she had been previously avoided by some of the other Hashira out of embarrassment, it wasn't completely out of the question. It was rare that she got to treat the Hashira, and that was one of the reasons why. Shinobu's words and thoughts seemed to fill the empty hallway she carried Muichiro.
Trying to get his legs to cooperate he attempted to get his footing. The ground below appeared to just be moving too fast. Clearing his mind he remembered something vital, breathing techniques. Pushing off of Shinobu he began to use Mist form one. It did not matter which one he used as he was not trying to fight; he was trying to stand up. Almost immediately he felt its effect. Wobbly though he may be, he was on two legs. With all the dignity he could muster while looking like a strong breeze could annihilate him, he stated, “Sorry to bother you but I need a bit of...help. I am fine though if you are too busy.”
The last bit slurred a little as if his words themselves were trying to make fun of him saying he was fine.