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The wooden practice sword sung through the air like the clear note of a flute, the motion practiced and easy. Even though the blow failed to connect as Sanemi kicked himself up into the air, the movement felt good. However, it left him wide open for Sanemi’s next blow to come crashing down, splintering both of their weapons in one devastating blow.
Sanemi wasted no time, discarding the splintered stump in his hand before his feet had even touched the ground. He rounded on Giyuu, his face split wide in a manic grin. Giyuu met his gaze with his own measured patience, letting his stance relax now that neither of them were armed.
“Alright,” Sanemi cracked his knuckles gleefully as he rolled out his shoulder, his intense gaze still anchored on Giyuu. “Next shall we battle it out with our bare hands?”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Behind him, Tanjiro erupted from the bushes, his arms waving urgently above his head.
Giyuu went slack. Despite the fight already being over, Tanjiro flung himself between them, arms still waving frantically above his head as if trying to make himself look bigger and more intimidating in the face of the wild bear of Sanemi’s temper.
“Wait a second! Don’t kill each other!”
“Shut up.” Sanemi spat the words at him as if they might have a physical impact if he tried hard enough. “You’re supposed to stay away from me anyway. But you’ve been sneaking looks at me, you scum.”
“Are you arguing about─ Oh no, wait.” Tanjiro turned to face the camera with a sheepish smile as the assistant director sighed heavily.
“Cut. Tanjiro, do you need to take a look over a script?”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“Sorry! I know this shouldn’t trip me up so much but there’s just something about this line…” Jogging his way off set, Tanjiro left Sanemi and Giyuu standing around aimlessly.
“I swear, this is what, the fourth take?” Sanemi shook his head with a dissatisfied grunt. Giyuu watched him wander over to the fence that hugged one side of their designated sparing area, then reach behind it and pull out a water bottle.
In truth, Giyuu had something of a soft spot for their co-star. This series had been Tanjiro’s first acting role for the screen, and they’d become reasonably close over the course of filming, Giyuu being one of the first few actors on the series that he’d performed scenes with.
With mild interest Giyuu found himself tracking the motion of Sanemi downing half his water in one go, checking back into the present just in time to feel exasperated with himself. Apparently unaware, Sanemi recapped the bottle and tossed it to Giyuu, who caught it deftly.
“If that got into the shot you’d get in trouble, you know.” Raising his eyebrows in a passive reprimand, Giyuu uncapped it and took a sip all the same. Sanemi snorted.
“How the fuck would it get into shot all the way back there? Anyway, those assholes with too much time on their hands need something to comb through the show for frame by frame, don’t they?” He grinned, crooked and tame as he watched Giyuu recap the bottle. “Ugh, this popular garbage is so low standard, look, they left a Starbucks cup in the background of that one complicated crowd shot. You can see it if you pause the stream at sixteen minutes and fifty-three seconds into episode 13. Unforgivable.”
“An utter shambles.” Giyuu intoned in flat agreement. Still, he was sure Sanemi caught the flicker of his smile.
“And as for the acting? Fuck, those assholes can’t portray romantic tension for shit, can they?” Laughing, Sanemi held out his hand for the bottle again, and Giyuu paused.
“What romantic tension?” As far as he was aware there were only a few romances written into the show, but none of them were much of a focus point.
“Oh, y’know. Subtext is─”
“Alright, lets try this again from the top!” Their assistant director called out from where she’d just finished going over a script with Tanjiro, neatly interrupting their conversation. Giyuu tossed the illegal water bottle back to Sanemi before she could take note of it, and after a few busy moments they were rolling again.
Their little sparring sequence had been choreographed and drilled into them over a month ago in the studio’s in-house training centre. It was a very functional space, all poured concrete and padded floors with various equipment and practice weaponry pushed up against the walls. It was here that he’d first really gotten to know Sanemi. They’d met before, of course, on set and at various promotional endeavours, but this was their first time in a situation where they had to focus on each other exclusively.
Conversation had not been easy between them, but neither had it been strained, so to speak. Comfortable work-out gear did Sanemi a world of favours in the looks department, free of his scar makeup and with a lot more skin on show. Giyuu felt frumpy in comparison, dressed in the same blue tracksuit he’d worn since the start of production. Even out of costume, Sanemi was incredibly eye catching with his carefully maintained physique, slight frame, and long dark eyelashes. Giyuu felt oddly privileged to be up close to him whilst he was so dressed down, but that was due to his own fluttering attraction. The fact that Sanemi did most of his own stunts didn’t help.
“I was hoping we’d get to fight.” Sanemi said during a break in their training. He was sat on the floor, man-spreading with his knees bent up to provide a place for his elbows to rest, his brow damp with a faint sheen of sweat.
Not knowing how he was supposed to take that, Giyuu reached for any kind of response which might clarify what he meant.
“I wasn’t aware you wanted to throw me around that badly.”
Sanemi huffed out a laugh before falling back onto the padded mat and throwing out his limbs like a starfish.
“The more you know, Tomioka.”
“I think,” started Giyuu as he lowered himself to the floor with a grunt. “I would like to know more.”
“Oh?” Sanemi shot him a curious look from the floor, and suddenly Giyuu wasn’t sure if he’d overstepped. That had been flirting, hadn’t it? Perhaps it was just another peculiarity of his co-star and he’d just made things awkward. Hastily, he backtracked.
“The inner workings of your mind are an enigma to me, after all.” He cast his eyes away as he spoke, taking the opportunity to hide in the action of stripping off his tracksuit jacket to reveal the plain black tee underneath.
“Speak for yourself.” said Sanemi, the bite of a smile behind his words enough to make Giyuu’s hopeful interest flutter back into life.
********
The studio cafeteria was always an interesting place to be. It was always in some bustling middleground between companionable atmosphere and liminal space. Here was where the sweat and magic of the industry mixed, elbow to elbow; practically dressed camera crew flowing seamlessly around actors in full costume, interspersed with the prop, costume, and art department staff. Normal people doing normal things with the occasionally jarring sore thumb tiredly sipping juice at an empty table. Today one of the sore thumbs stood at the buffet, all scuffed up and battle scarred, piling ohagi onto his plate as if he’d never see the sweets again.
It was enough to make Giyuu smile as he entered the cafeteria, still in his casual wear after a morning of pick-up recording in the audio booth. Plate in hand, he meandered through the crowd until he was beside Sanemi, stopping only to fill up his own plate sporadically from the available spread.
“You know, I think the next time they serve ohagi they should probably be forewarned that you’re coming.” Giyuu looked down at Sanemi’s plate, which was approximately two thirds full of the sweet in question.
“Shut your mouth.” Sanemi responded dryly without looking up. “As if you don’t go hog wild whenever they serve salmon, you fucking hypocrite.”
“Not that wild.” Giyuu shot back with a disgruntled pout. Finally Sanemi looked up at him, his eyes flicking back and forth over Giyuu’s expression as he examined him quietly. Then he gave him a nudge with his elbow and nodded towards one of the long tables which was mostly unoccupied. Wordlessly, Giyuu followed his direction, and the pair of them sat together side by side to eat.
They were quiet for a while, exchanging small snippets of conversation here and there as they ate─ food being the priority of the moment. Sanemi finished first despite his decidedly larger portion, and permitted Giyuu roughly a minute of peace before striking up a fuller conversation.
“Remember when I first met you?”
Giyuu nodded, his mouth currently full of sandwich.
“Honest to fuck I thought you were some stuck up asshole who thought he was too good to rub shoulders with the likes of us. Theatre background and all that.”
“Oh? And what’s your take now?”
Sanemi mulled over his response before cracking a grin.
“Still an asshole, but that’s not much of a deterrent. Takes one to know one.”
Giyuu rolled his eyes and lowered his sandwich before fixing Sanemi with a playful little smile.
“You didn’t make much of a positive impression either.” Which was true, save for the one prominent detail of just how floored Giyuu had been over how attractive Sanemi had looked in costume.
The Hashira meeting that had taken place near the end of their first season had been the first time the bulk of the cast had been gathered in one place outside of script readings. Giyuu had always found himself pulled over to sit with Tanjiro and his more featured co-stars during these events, buffered from his fellow Hashira by a bank of writers and directors on his other side. He hadn’t minded at the time, but when it had finally come to filming he was one of the only actors on set who hadn’t already made a personal introduction. As such, he’d stood back whilst most of the small talk was happening, only speaking when spoken to for the sake of politeness.
The way Sanemi could go from his rough but chill exterior to absolutely raving feralness once the camera started rolling had given Giyuu even more problems for several days after that; both in his own skills as an actor, and of the ‘uh oh’ gay variety.
The next time Giyuu got to see Sanemi go feral on set in person was well into shooting for the third and final season. He’d spent most of the day on set himself, filming with Tanjiro and one of the upper moon actors, Hakuji, who was intense but a pleasure to work with. Their energy on set was good, and thankfully Tanjiro hadn’t been faced with any tricky lines, which meant they’d wrapped up relatively quickly. They’d be coming back to continue filming tomorrow, but considering the increased physical toll of the scenes they were working on they couldn’t keep at it for too long without risking injury or exhaustion.
Tired and still in full makeup and costume, Giyuu had trekked over to the other side of the studio building to stage three to watch Sanemi. He stood quietly behind the assembled crew, his gaze flickering between the action on set, and the hooded little preview screen just visible over the director’s shoulder. Above it was jammed their series’ good luck mascot─ a flannel crocodile plush belonging to the director, much loved over the years in all it’s crooked wire glasses wearing glory.
Sanemi was also filming a fight sequence today alongside Gyomei, Michikatsu, Muichiro, and his real life brother Genya. Just as things looked like they were ramping up to hit a crescendo, Gyomei landed a blow a little too hard, sending Michikatsu staggering down onto the floor.
“CUT!” The director shouted up from their seat, already half out of their chair. “Michi, are you alright?” When the response came back sounding slightly dazed, the director called for a break so Michikatsu could get looked at.
As people began to mill about, Sanemi spotted Giyuu at the back and grinned, hopping off set to make a beeline for him. The last season of filming had properly solidified them as friends— at least Giyuu liked to think it had— as they now spent quite a bit of time together, schedules allowing. It was more than he could have hoped for, given the on/off nature of their conversations over the past few years.
“Shit, you look like hell.” Sanemi gave him an appraising once over, which Giyuu entertained by holding his arms out and turning for further inspection.
“I can assure that only two thirds of the exhaustion is mine. The rest is makeup. Probably.” Rubbing at his face with a sigh, he offered Sanemi a tired smile.
“Damn Giyuu, just go back to your trailer and take a break.” Sanemi laughed, but it was one of his good natured ones. “Why are you out here watching me get flung around set?”
Giyuu hesitated, not sure what to tell him that wouldn’t be too incriminating.
“You’re fascinating to watch. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”
Sanemi looked taken aback, and was about to respond when the director called their break to an end now that Michikatsu had been deemed fine.
They exchanged a look, Sanemi seemingly hovering on the edge of something. As Giyuu took a step back, physically disengaging himself from the conversation, Sanemi spoke.
“Aw, no kiss for good luck?”
Blindsided, Giyuu stared at him dumbly. Before he could gather his brain to process what he had just heard, Sanemi bombed away from him and back onto set with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm to pick back up where they’d left off.
As the camera started rolling and the action up on set kicked off again, Giyuu’s brain finally clicked the past few seconds into place. Kiss? Sanemi? A good luck kiss?
Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and it was a miracle that he didn’t jump out of his skin at the shock.
“You know,” crooned a self satisfied voice in his ear that could only be Uzui Tengen. “You should bridge that once he’s off set.”
Giyuu turned to look up at him, mouth opening in protest, but Tengen shushed him and continued.
“One, it’s obvious and has been for months. Whatever you’ve been stashing away in that congealed little brain, it’s mutual. Two, you wouldn’t be the first. This show seems to be a source of romantic energy between the cast, unless you hadn’t noticed.”
Giyuu frowned. No, he hadn’t noticed. He tried to puzzle back over the last few years with an eye to his castmates. Taking frustrated pity on him, Tengen explained.
“Have you missed the flourishing little relationship between our protagonist and the other Shinazugawa?”
Genya? Tanjiro and Genya? Now that Giyuu thought about it, they had been very close for awhile now, but he hadn’t thought much of it what with the way he hung off Agatsuma all the time.
“And then there is Obanai and Mitsuri─” Tengen continued, but Giyuu, not wanting to appear completely clueless, cut across him.
“They’re already a couple.”
“Wrong, although they should be.” Tengen corrected, altogether far too amused. “They’re stuck in the hopeless yearning stage, but I’m going to see if I can fix that before the end of production. Obanai needs a sharp shove.”
“Oh.”
Tengen sighed and gave his shoulder a gentle push.
“Talk to him, or I will.”
As Tengen departed with his final threat of assistance, Giyuu looked back up to where Sanemi was hurtling about on set, all manic energy and rage, and made up his mind.
********
With his courage pooled in his chest like a ward, Giyuu shuffled up to Sanemi’s trailer. He’d calculated how long it would take Sanemi to get back and out of makeup, and sure enough as he put a foot on the first metal step up to the door, he could hear Sanemi talking.
The door swung open to reveal Sanemi’s makeup artist, still looking back over his shoulder at Sanemi. He paused when he saw Giyuu standing awkwardly in front of him, falling silent as he glanced back. Ducking his head with a quiet ‘excuse me’ he squeezed past Giyuu without announcing his presence.
The floor creaked as Giyuu stepped up into the trailer.
“Huh? Forget something? Oh─ Uh. Hi.” His shirt already half off, pulled up over his head, Sanemi blinked at him. Giyuu blinked back and tried hard not to let his gaze wander too openly.
“Hey.” Giyuu stood stiffly in the doorway, all of his courage threatening to evaporate on the spot. When Sanemi didn’t bat back with anything, simply continuing to stand there half out of his shirt, Giyuu scrambled to fill the gap. “So about that kiss for goodluck.”
Sanemi unfroze, pulling his shirt the rest of the way off with a sigh.
“Well I don’t need one to go take a shower. Jesus fuck. Tomioka, sit down and let me shower then- then we can do this.”
********
Muzan in green screen leggings and extensive effects make up was both unnerving and amusing to be around. That was Giyuu’s major take home for the day. Filming the final fight of the series had been a long and involved process that would eventually span multiple episodes.
“Tomioka! Prepare yourself!”
Giyuu looked up in time to see Sanemi dashing towards him. He rose level with Sanemi, ready to receive the hit to his blade that they had spent ages perfecting. Except it didn’t come. Instead Sanemi reached for him, grabbing a fistful of his tattered haori and pulling him into a hard kiss─ perfectly framed for the still rolling camera.
“Cut!” The director was already half out of their chair, exasperation pouring off of them in waves as the crew and their co-stars broke out into a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles.
Blushing, Giyuu broke away, equal parts pleased and mortified as Tanjiro came bubbling up to him in a wave of fake blood and excitement.
“Ahh! I knew there was something going on between you two, Genya said that Sanemi’s been really wistful lately and-”
“Alright, alright─ we have a show to shoot here. Congratulations to you both, but lets try again, shall we?” Shaking their head, the director sat back down and turned to say something more quietly to the chief cameraman.
Grinning, Sanemi gave Giyuu a satisfied once over before returning to his starting position. As Giyuu turned to find his own mark once again, he couldn’t help but smile. They’d hashed things out together, that night in the trailer. Where they were, what they wanted, how they felt, and even their tentative hopes for the future. Privately, as the snap of the clap board signalled it was go time once again, Giyuu hoped that kiss would wind up in the blooper reel.