Work Text:
“Tanjiro, you’ve been inoculated, right?” Aoi asked, hands on her hips.
Tanjiro blinked, a bit surprised at the sudden question. “Yes, all of us had it done the first time we were at a Wisteria house. Why?”
“A seasonal flu managed to get into the HQ, and a few of the Hashira got sick,” Aoi explained. “Lady Kocho, Uzui, Rengoku and Tomioka are all being quarantined at different wisteria houses right now.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” Tanjiro said, brows knit in concern. “Will they be okay?”
“They should be alright if they follow treatment, but some are more difficult than others,” Aoi sighed. “Lady Kocho is still trying to work from her bed, and Tomioka-san is being remarkably sour to any nurses I send his way. I was hoping maybe you could go tend to him, I figure perhaps you’d be able to get some results with him.”
“Of course, I’d be happy to,” Tanjiro nodded. “Where do I go?”
“I’ll give directions to your Kasugai and prepare some medicine for you,” Aoi said, sounding relieved. “You can leave by tonight.”
“Sounds good,” Tanjiro smiled. He stood to go gather his things and get ready for his little mission.
-
Being a Pillar meant that you’d proven yourself as a skilled and capable warrior. It meant that you’d taken on the worst that life had thrown and come out on top. It meant that you were formidable and strong.
“ Hat-choo!!”
But it also meant you were human, and no human was exempt from the occasional round of seasonal sickness.
“That one sounded like it hurt,” Tanjiro said with a thin, amused smile. He was at the fire, boiling water for tea and medicine while Giyu languished in bed not far away.
“Unnngh…” Was all Giyu could moan in response. It had been a grand total of six days since he went into this Wisteria House, with the first four days spent with a snivelling kakushi who couldn’t look Giyu in the eye and seemed determined to piss Giyu off in an innumerable, tiny little ways which made his pounding headache worsen.
But Tanjiro had arrived on the fifth day, determined to nurse Giyu back to health.
It wasn’t an easy task, to be sure. The blanket was pulled up to Giyu’s cheek, and he was wrapped around Nezuko, cuddling the little demon because her body was naturally cold, and she was an immense relief to his fevered skin.
Nezuko rather seemed to enjoy the unusual cuddliness from the usually stoic pillar, putting her cold little hands onto his face like an ice pack to soothe him.
Tanjiro prepared the medicine first, pouring the spoonful of herbs into the bowl and grinding them up with the pestle as he’d been instructed by Aoi, until they were a fine dust. He added a bit of ground ginger and a dollop of honey to the dust, mixing it until it became a rough paste, then added a little bit of hot water until it was cooled and smooth.
He set it aside, and made a small pot of tea, just a little something to wash the medicine down.
With that done, he took his little trey and shuffled over to where Giyu lay, dozy and tired but not able to sleep because of the pain in his nose and throat.
“Come on, medicine time,” Tanjiro said, scooping up some of the paste with a wooden spoon. “Half now, half after you eat.”
Giyu’s flushed face scrunched up in displeasure at the green mixture Tanjiro was feeding him. “Not hungry,” he huffed, opening his mouth. His stomach was twisting in knots, and if he ate he’d have to eventually get up to use the washroom and every fibre of his being didn’t want to move.
Tanjiro fed him the spoonful, smiling as Giyu’s face screwed up in disgust at the taste. “I figured you would say that, so I made a special request for supplies before I came over and they were just delivered today,” He’d poured the tea into a little glass teapot he could keep closed with his thumb, and he’d used a bit of snow so the tea wasn’t scalding.
Giyu drank the lukewarm tea, grateful for it’s smoothness as it washed away the slightly grainy medicine. “Nngh?”
“We have fresh salmon and daikon,” Tanjiro announced, not missing how Giyu’s eyes immediately lit up. “I bet you could eat a bowl or two of that, right?”
“Yes, please.” Giyu mumbled, smiling dazedly.
“Good. Get some sleep and have it ready for you by the time you wake up.” Tanjiro promised, pulling the blanket all the way up to Giyu’s nose.
Giyu let out a happy little sigh, eyes closing as Tanjiro gathered the bowls and what not he’d used, leaving the room to prepare dinner.
“You have such a good big brother,” Giyu mumbled, burying his nose into Nezuko’s hair.
“Mmph-hm!” She mumbled in agreement.
Soothed by the medicine, however disgusting, and the promise of his favourite food, Giyu was able to drift off into a nice, peaceful sleep.
-
“-then you go like this, and this, aaaand…” Tsutako’s nimble fingers weaved the stems together, Giyu’s own hands attempting to clumsily copy as she showed him. “Ta-da! All- oh,” Giyu’s elder sister paused to giggle, seeing Giyu’s rough flower crown, just barely being held together.
“Nee-san!” Giyu called, distressed. “It’s not funny!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tsutako couldn’t stop giggling. Taking a steadying breath, she pulled her little brother into her lap, and started afresh with a new daisy chain, this time with her fingers moving Giyu’s as she again showed him how to weave them together.
After a few minutes, Giyu had made a second flower crown, much to his delight. He quickly picked another clutch of flowers, and made a third, fourth, fifth…
“Tsutako, Giyu!!” Came their parents’ distant call. “Dinner’s ready!!”
“Race you!” Tsutako said. Before Giyu could even agree or disagree, his sister was already running.
“Hey, not fair, you have longer legs!!” Giyu shouted in dismay, trying to dash after her.
However, it was the oddest thing. No matter how fast Giyu pushed himself, no matter how fast he ran, she was always too far. His chest ached for air as he chased after her, but Tsutako was always just barely out of reach. “Stop, slow down!” He cried out. “Nee-san, wait for me!”
His fingertips brushed against the sleeves of her kimono, and as he tried to grasp onto her she vanished from his sight. Giyu fell forward, and what had been a verdant flower field became an icy, snow filled forest.
“Nee-san!!” Giyu’s breath puffed into the cold air as he shouted. “Nee-san!!”
A sudden pounding at his chest made his breath stutter, he gasped sharply and-
Giyu sat up, sweat dripping down the side of his face as he breathed hard, lungs aching. He blinked, disorientated for a second. Where was he, where was Tsutako?!
But then, he felt a pair of little, clawed hands on his face. Giyu looked down, and saw Nezuko looking up at him, concern in her pale pink eyes. “Mm?”
“I’m...I’m okay,” He said, his breath slowly evening out. “Just...a bad dream. I’m okay.”
She didn’t look convinced. Her hand swept across his forehead, pushing back sweat-dampened bangs. His eyes closed, indulging in the gentle touch. He rarely got to experience them these days.
“You know,” Giyu said softly, pulling his knee up to his chest, resting his chin on his folded arm. “Sometimes I forget that you’re still a big sister at heart.”
“Mm-hm!” Nezuko squeaked around her bamboo muzzle, taking apparent pride in her position as a big sister.
Giyu pet her head, assuaging her concern. She fell into him, head landing in his lap just as the door to Giyu’s room was pulled open.
“Ah, good, you’re awake!” Tanjiro smiled as he stepped in, armed with a tray of food. “Perfect timing, too. How’re you feeling, Giyu?”
“A little better,” Giyu sniffled. “I don’t know if it’s the food or the medicine, but I’m definitely feeling a bit hungrier than I was.”
“Excellent, I hope I made it right,” Tanjiro smiled, setting the food down.
Giyu gently moved Neuzko off his lap, sat properly on his futon, took the chopsticks and clapped his hands. “Thank you for the meal,” He said, before immediately digging in.
Tanjiro left, bringing in the extra he cooked as well as his own serving to eat. “I prepared the bath, too. So have your fill then you can go wash up, alright?”
Giyu nodded, mouth still full as he chewed. He managed to scarf down two entire bowls, much to Tanjiro’s joy.
“You’re still really bad at eating rice, Giyu,” Tanjiro chuckled, taking a moment to brush off the stray grains on Giyu’s cheeks.
He leaned into the younger man’s touch, reaching up to hold Tanjiro’s wrist and keep his hand to his face, happy and full and getting mildly dozy again. Tanjiro’s hand was so much different than Nezuko’s- larger, certainly, but also rougher. The hard calluses spoke of Tanjiro’s hard work, but the softness and gentleness of his touch outright declared his unbelievably kind nature.
“Giyu, medicine,” Tanjiro reminded him, his palm still resting on Giyu’s cheek, and Giyu’s brow twitched in mild annoyance.
And he was dutiful as ever, too. Giyu sighed, nodding as he accepted his fate. Tanjiro’s smile brightened as he went to retrieve the bowl and spoon he’d set aside.
Despite sitting up and more than able to take his medicine himself, the thought hadn’t occurred to Tanjiro to just hand Giyu the wooden spoon. He brought it to Giyu’s lips, the Hashira opening to receive it.
“Good,” Tanjiro smiled brightly. He lifted a cup of warm tea to Giyu’s hand to drink. “Come on, let's get into the bath.”
Giyu was just on the edge of protesting. He wasn’t entirely helpless, he could bathe on his own! But then he realised, the simple act of bringing the cup to his lips to drink made his muscles ache.
Maybe bathing with Tanjiro wasn’t a bad idea…
-
Turns out, Tanjito had been right to suggest bathing together. Giyu had tried to wash his own hair but half way through it, he felt too drained and achy to finish.
All it took was half an annoyed noise for Tanjiro to rock up behind Giyu to lend assistance.
Giyu’s eyes closed, breathing in the steam of the bath as Tanjiro worked through the sweat and grime Giyu had accumulated. He suppressed a shiver as he felt gentle scrapes of fingernails against his scalp.
“Sorry,” Tanjiro said, a bit alarmed when he felt the slight tremble. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, it felt good,” Giyu mumbled sleepily, yawning slightly. “I don’t understand how I’m still so tired after sleeping for so long.”
“You’re recovering,” Tanjiro laughed slightly, filling a bucket with warm water to rinse out the soap in Giyu’s hair. “It’s the same principle with Nezuko. You’re still taking up energy even if you aren’t on your regular duties.”
“Mmn…” Giyu hummed, bracing himself for the sudden dump of water on his head. “You’ve probably taken care of people like this before, right?”
“Kind of,” Tanjiro hummed, recalling fondly. He picked up a comb, gently pulling it through Giyu’s hair, working whatever knots he found with his fingers. “My little siblings didn’t often get sick, but our grandmother and father did, we all tended to them as best we could.”
“Ah, so you’re more used to tending to half-dead adults like me,” Giyu nodded in understanding.
Tanjiro laughed. “You’re not half dead yet, Giyu!”
“I feel half dead, though,” Giyu sighed softly.
“Because you’re sick. And you’re probably making it worse by never taking breaks,” Tanjiro said simply.
“I don’t see the connection.”
“You’re a Pillar, so you pick and choose which missions to take, right?” Tanjiro asked. Giyu nodded, that was how it worked, more or less when he wasn’t acting on direct orders from the Master. “And yet, I’ve rarely ever seen you just milling around HQ or the Butterfly Mansion. I’ve asked where you were multiple times and the answer is almost always the same. ‘He’s out on assignment.’”
“You ask for me?” Giyu asked, a bit flattered.
“Of course I do, and you’re never around,” Tanjiro said simply. “Even Shinazugawa doesn’t take every mission thrown his way. You’re putting too much strain on yourself, so when something like being sick pops up, it breaks you even worse than it would if you hadn’t.”
Maybe it was the tone Tanjiro spoke with, or perhaps it was Tanjiro himself that brought up these strange feelings, but...Giyu felt guilty . The thought of Tanjiro asking around for him and being so constantly disappointed with Giyu always being out…
“You know, a hatchet being constantly swung is going to be blunt and unusable, so you have to stop and sharpen it every once in a while,” Tanjiro informed him, taking a few finishing swipes through Giyu’s hair to ensure it was all untangled. “That’s what my mother used to say to me whenever I was working too hard for too long, and I’m sure the same principle applies to nichirin and slayers, too.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Giyu admitted softly.
“Perhaps?” Tanjiro asked.
“...You’re right,” Giyu agreed. “I’ll be better about taking breaks.”
“That’s all I ask,” Tanjiro hummed, smiling. He finished with Giyu’s hair, tying it up into a knot at the back of his head so it wouldn’t touch the water in the baths.
They soaked until they got a bit wrinkly, then left back to the room.
Giyu, fully dry, sated and once again dozy due to illness, laid his head down in fresh sheets with Tanjiro in the next futon over, Nezuko awake and apparently keen to keep the fire going throughout the chilly night.
It wasn’t long before he fell into a deep sleep once more.
-
“Nngh, I wish I had hair like yours,” Sabito grunted, nose wrinkled in apparent satisfaction as he scrubbed his head.
“Huh? Why?” Giyu asked, glancing up over the small divider wall between them. “Mines’ boring, everyone has black hair.”
“Yeah, but yours doesn’t puff up like a dandelion,” The peach haired boy huffed. “After every bath- poof! Maybe if I grow it out, it’ll weigh itself down.”
“I think long hair would look nice on you,” Giyu hummed. “Like those illustrations of samurai in masters’ books.”
“That would be nice, but then again they’re all black-haired too,” Sabito recalled. “I’d be worried if you grew your hair out.”
“Why worried?” Giyu asked, confused.
“Because!” Sabito snorted. “You’re already so pretty, someone might mistake you for a girl if you had long hair and steal you.”
“Sabito, I’m not that weak!” Giyu said, indignant. “And don’t call me pretty, boys aren’t supposed to be pretty!”
“But you are pretty!” Sabito laughed. “You’re like Master. You know he wears that mask because demons laughed at him, they said he looked too kind!”
Giyu pouted. “I’m not pretty.” He insisted.
“Don’t worry, once you get a sexy face scar like mine, you won’t be so pretty anymore!” Sabito snickered.
“That’s dumb. You’re the pretty one,” Giyu huffed, finally dumping a basin of water on his head. “I’ll show you. I’ll grow my hair out and prove that nobody’s gonna mistake me for a girl.”
“Alright, but I did warn you,” Sabito laughed, rinsing off himself as well, following Giyu to the big basin to soak.
Giyu kept talking, hearing Sabito’s response, though the words were muffled to his own ear. He had to have said something, because Sabito laughed. Giyu looked upon his friend, and a warmth blossomed across his being. A wash of affection dripping onto his head, sliding down and enveloping him entirely.
The smile on his face was so comforting. His soft, pastel lavender eyes, the crooked smile, askew because of how his skin had healed from his scar, wet peachy hair, slicked down from water.
Giyu felt….happy. At peace, if only for a moment.
And he held onto that feeling, riding it into the waking world.
-
Giyu woke on the edge of his futon, dawn light just beginning to shine through the doors of the Wisteria House, tinted gold even in this late winter morning. In his arms was Tanjiro, his burgundy head resting on Giyu’s outstretched arm, holding his pillow to his chest, legs comfortably entwined with Giyu’s, with both their blankets layered over ontop of them both.
Giyu’s heart thumped just a little harder in his chest, looking down at the younger slayer, so peaceful in his sleep. He almost didn’t want to breathe, worried the stirring of air would wake Tanjiro.
He’d never had such a close up look of Tanjiro before. The ghost of peach fuzz on his chin, the line of his scar, swooping across his forehead, and his eyelashes.
His eyelashes were what Giyu found himself fascinated by. Long, thick, and tinted a dark red. Giyu wasn’t sure what he’d thought before, (Had he even put a single thought as to what Tanjiro’s eyelashes looked like before this? More than likely he hadn’t.) but the knowledge that they were the same burgundy as the rest of his hair felt oddly intimate.
A tiny secret knowledge few would know.
What else was there to discover?
Giyu’s eyes wandered over Tanjiro’s profile, seeking more. He had tiny little red marks on his neck from where the metal of his earrings swung in the wind, tapping against his skin. The barely there hair on his chin, entirely invisible if it wasn’t for how the light was shining on his face from an angle. The crooked slope of his nose, a common sight due to breaking it and not having it heal quite straight.
Then, his eyes tilted down a little more.
Tanjiro’s lips. Slightly parted, slightly chapped. He was breathing in through his nose and out his mouth, maintaining total concentration constant even in his sleep.
Giyu would have laid there for hours, dazedly taking in every last detail he could, but then that beam of light had shone over his eye, causing Tanjiro to stir.
“Gihu…?” Tanjiro mumbled sleepily, twisting himself out of Giyu’s arms to stretch, his arms going up and spine bending upwards. “Nngh? Sorry, did I drool on you?” He asked, rubbing at his face to wake himself up.
“Yes, but I don’t mind.” Giyu said as he sat up.
Tanjiro shivered. Giyu sitting up brought the blankets with him, leaving him exposed to the chill of the morning. He wasn’t so perturbed at the unexpected bed-sharing, it hadn’t been the first time he’d been clung to for warmth. He, Zenitsu and Inosuke often shared a blanket and bedroll when they were caught out too far from an inn or wisteria house in the winter. “It got colder overnight,” He yawned, forcing himself to sit up as well. “How’re you feeling today?”
“A lot better,” Giyu said, reaching out and putting a hand flat to Tanjiro’s chest, pushing the younger to lay back down. “Enough so that I can make breakfast.”
“What? No, Giyu.” Tanjiro pouted as Giyu pulled the blankets back to cover him. “You’re still sick, I’ll go-”
“I’ve gotten restless,” Giyu interrupted him. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to move around in a warm kitchen rather than trying to walk around in the cold?”
“...Good point, but still.” Tanjiro tried sitting up again, but Giyu wouldn’t let him. “I want to help,” he grunted, mildly annoyed at Giyu’s show of returning strength. Just keeping a hand on his chest over the blanket was enough to keep Tanjiro flat on the bed.
“You can help by keeping the bed warm,” Giyu countered as Tanjiro stopped struggling.
“...Fine, but I don’t like this,” Tanjiro huffed.
“Noted,” Giyu said, half a smile on his face. He stood up at last, stretching for a moment and feeling his spine cracking into place. He stepped over Tanjiro, leaving the room to find his clothes and the kitchen.
It felt good to be moving around after a few days of sickness. His back still hurt from coughing so much, his skin still felt a bit strange from the temperature fluxuations and his stomach was roiling from the medicine, but feeling energy returning and the actual desire to move around was a relief.
After changing into his hakama pants, button up shirt, tabi socks and haori (enough layers to stave off the cold air), he entered the kitchen. There, he found Nezuko tending to the stove fire, with an array of ingredients already chopped up and ready for use.
She looked up at him, pink eyes bright and wide. “Mmmph?”
“Thank you, Nezuko.” Giyu said, patting her head. “You’re a great help.”
Nezuko smiled, happy with the praise as she was pet.
“Do you want to stay and help or go back to Tanjiro? I’m making him stay in bed for a while longer.” Giyu asked as he rolled up his sleeves.
“Mmph!” Nezuko hummed, pulling up her sleeves as well to stand beside Giyu at the table.
Giyu had her mix up natto with some sauce to start, and then make a serving of rice while Giyu found the cooked salmon Tanjiro had used for yesterday’s dinner, cutting into it for salmon onigiri while he boiled water for miso soup in a pot. Thanks to Nezuko’s foresight, the tofu and nori had already been cut up for use.
It was quite a simple breakfast, and done rather quickly.
Nezuko marched with her brothers’ tray back to the room, being particularly careful since she wanted to present her brother the spoils of her and Giyu’s work.
Tanjiro was, of course, up and ready for the day, disregarding Giyu’s request to stay in bed.
“I’m not surprised you didn’t follow orders,” Giyu said, smused as he sat back down on the slightly rumpled bed.
Tanjiro had gotten dressed, wearing his uniform like Giyu, not bothering to put on the leg straps and only having his haori on over his button up. “Am I really so predictable?” He asked, looking up from the firepit. He had made a kettle of tea, and prepared the medicine for the day.
“Only in this circumstance,” Giyu said. Tanjiro sat beside him, Nezuko proudly presenting the tray. “Normally, you’re impossible to read.”
“That so?” Tanjiro chuckled, patting Nezuko.
“You headbutted a hashira at your trial for hiding your demon sister while being a demon slayer,” Giyu reminded him, as he started eating. “At what point is any of that predictable?”
“Ah, you’ve got me,” Tanjiro smiled as they settled down to eat. “What should we do today?”
Giyu thought for a moment. “How’s your shogi game? There’s a board in storage.”
“I’ve played once or twice against Zenitsu and Kanao, but I’ve never won against them.” Tanjiro hummed. “Think you could teach me some moves?”
“Sure, but I’m not going to go easy on you.”
“I would be insulted if you did,” Tanjiro laughed. It seemed like shogi was a topic that Giyu was quite knowledgeable about, as he started going through a quick rundown of the game to get a ground-level understanding on, which Tanjiro listened to avidly.
Tanjiro hadn’t really heard Giyu talk at length before, and even though the topic was so technical there was just something about Giyu’s voice that made the words so much sweeter to listen to. Perhaps it was the rarity of hearing him speak for so long, or the ease with which he spoke.
‘I’ve never seen him so at ease,’ Tanjiro realized dimly, looking up at his senior slayer. The slope of his shoulders had relaxed, his eyes were aglow, lightened and shining, the grip on his bowl wasn’t near so tense as Tanjiro had previously seen it.
The sickness had, even if only for a moment, lifted the burdens off Giyu’s shoulders. Too distracted by being ill and recovering, so willingly distracted by a subject he enjoyed, Giyu was...happier.
And his scent had lightened too. What had previously been a bitter, edging on sour lingering from pain and discomfort had improved over their last few days together, revealing Giyu’s natural scent when he wasn’t ‘on’ like usual.
Tanjiro had seen the ocean before, the Yoshiwara Red Light District had been quite near the ocean, and Tanjiro had at first likened Giyu’s scent to that. The brine of the sea, even the pitter patter of rain on roof tiles, fresh and clean and pure. But when he was relaxed, there was something a bit more complicated underlying that.
After a moment of consideration, thinking through the array of scents he’d memorized, Tanjiro settled on sand and moss. New growth through quiet patience and the long journey of stone being worn down into tiny grains, washing up upon a shore. Dim, overcast mornings in a chilly forest and sweltering hot days on beaches.
And it felt so unbelievably precious to witness.
“Tanjiro?” Giyu asked, bringing Tanjiro back from his musings. “Sorry, I was rambling, wasn’t I?”
“You were,” Tanjiro agreed. “I liked it though. You have a very soothing monologue.”
“Hm. Are we still playing?”
“Of course! I’ll get these dishes, you find the board?”
“On it.”
They stood, and separated to their tasks. Tanjiro washed the dishes and Giyu set up the shogi board in the room.
Before they sat down to play, though, Tanjiro insisted on feeding Giyu his medicine. “The instructions were clear, you keep taking it even if you’re feeling better,” Tanjiro reminded him, wooden spoon held out. “Open up.”
Giyu sighed, reluctantly taking the spoon into his mouth and swallowing the still bitter, gritty medicine. “Did Kocho make the instructions?” He asked as he cringed around the mouthful. “It’d be like her to intentionally make me take such disgusting medicine.”
“It was Aoi,” Tanjiro half snickered, putting a cup of tea into Giyu’s hand to wash down the medicine. “So you can’t blame Miss Shinobu.”
“Give me a minute and I’ll think of a way to blame her,” Giyu promised before taking a swig of tea.
“Enough blame, let's get to it,” Tanjiro laughed as they finally settled down at the board,
The rest of the morning and a portion of the afternoon was spent playing Shogi.
-
Giyu laid in bed, watching Tanjiro from the open door, out in the yard he’d so patiently shoveled clear, practicing his sword stances with a practice katana as a light snow fell around him, fat fluffy flakes that melted the moment they landed on Tanjiro’s clothes.
“It was a day like this, wasn’t it?” Giyu said softly. Nezuko, sitting on top of his futon and comfortably lounging back, laying on his stomach and watching Tanjiro as well, made a little sound of acknowledgement, immediately knowing what he was talking about.
The day he’d first met the Kamado Siblings, up in that mountain home they’d hailed from.
A grey overcast sky, a slow snowfall, and a young boy desperate to save what remained of his family.
“He’s sure grown a lot since then,” Giyu said. “Though, just saying that feels like an understatement.”
“Mm-hm,” Nezuko mumbled in agreement.
Giyu took in a deep breath, relaxing into the weight of Nezuko on his stomach, watching Tanjiro through a single eye as he pressed his face into the pillow. An easy, quiet doziness began to overtake him, and he fell asleep.
This time peaceful, this time dreamless.
-
“Shinobu-san sent a crow!” Tanjiro chirped after dinner was finished. Nezuko was napping near the fire, and Giyu was lounging in bed, reading.
“She’s better?” Giyu asked, setting his book onto his chest to look at Tanjiro properly.
“Yep! And she said you can leave isolation if you’re symptom free for a day! By morning, you’re free to go,” Tanjiro smiled.
“Hm…” Giyu hummed, a strange, niggling feeling in his stomach. He lifted his book, and continued reading.
Giyu sensed some shuffling. He lowered his book again, and was met with Tanjiro, looming over him upside down. “You don’t seem too excited about being let out again,” Tanjiro said, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Why?”
“I…” Giyu began, putting his book over his face, covering everything from his nose down. “I...started rather liking this. These peaceful days, and spending time with you.”
Tanjiro’s eyes and smile softened. “I did too,” He said softly. “Even after this, could we do it again? Spend a day or two like this?”
“I’m not...sure if that’s a good idea,” Giyu said, averting his eyes from the bright, shining garnet of Tanjiro’s unerringly honest gaze.
Tanjiro’s brow raised, head tilting almost like a confused dog. “Hm? Is there a reason?”
Giyu’s heart throbbed in his chest, that same uncertain feeling in his stomach only seemed to roil on, stronger and growing every passing second. He held the book between his and Tanijro’s face a bit tighter, trying to think of a reason that wouldn’t dissuade Tanjiro from ever approaching him again in such a friendly manner but wouldn’t set off Tanjiro’s nose, alerting the younger that he was lying.
In the end, no such answer came, forcing Giyu to be honest. “In these past few days, I think I’ve started getting a few...inappropriate feelings, towards you. If something like this isolation were to happen again, I’m worried these feelings will continue to grow, and seeing you after such a point is...it would be…”
Painful? Heartbreaking? Giyu had so few friends, and Tanjiro was among the most precious in that few. He didn’t want to lose him in the fantasy that such a shining beacon of a person could return his affections, however far flung he knew those fantasies to be.
“Giyu?” Tanjiro spoke, and it set Giyu’s ears off, starting to ring. “Are you saying that you like me? As my mother and father liked each other?”
Giyu, usually such a master of self discipline and control, was blushing redder than the right half of his haori. “I...I apologise, if I made you uncomfortable, I understand if you’d like to leave now rather than tomorrow and-”
“Giyu,” Tanjiro interrupted. “Do you like me?”
“...Yes,” Giyu said softly, eyes closing, bracing for rejection.
But then a gentle force moved Giyu’s hands, putting the book to his chest, and there was a soft pressure on his lips. Giyu blinked his eyes open, surprised.
He was looking up at Tanjiro’s chin. He was being kissed upside down. It was a simple peck, and it was over quick. The simmering discomfort he’d felt earlier abated almost immediately, leaving a vast and empty void inside Giyu that was filling with something entirely new, something warm and joyful and just as uncertain as before, though this uncertainty was awash with potential and possibilities, innumerable paths to be explored and enjoyed rather than dreaded.
Tanjiro didn’t pull away, instead tilting himself so his head was on Giyu’s pillow, facing his elder disciple's ear. “I like you too, Giyu.” He whispered, and feeling his breath on his ear sent shivers down Giyu’s spine. “I was worried that...that I was confusing my admiration for you for affection, but knowing how you feel, I’m certain that I like you beyond friendship. I’m not...experienced, in this sort of thing, I wasn’t sure if these feelings could be had for another man, but...If you’re sure, I would like to stay by your side, as much as I can with our situations. These peaceful days, with you, with Nezuko, it really reminded me why I’m fighting so hard. I want more days like this, and I want you in them.”
“I want that, too,” Giyu said, his one hand reaching up, gently sliding through Tanjiro’s hair, holding the younger where he was. “If...if something ever happened, and I had to retire from my position, or if you decide to quit the Corps once you’ve cured Nezuko or at some point retire after that, I’d like to stay by your side, as a husband would.”
“Once we’re out,” Tanjiro agreed with a smile, pressing his forehead to the side of Giyu’s head. “I’d fight even harder, if I knew that was what was waiting for me at the end.”
“So would I,” Giyu smiled, a wave of immense affection rushing over him. He put his book to the side, and sat up. Tanjiro got up as well, and when he saw Giyu holding his arms open, he happily slotted himself into Giyu’s embrace, pushing the elder back down into the bed, laying on top of him.
Holding onto one another, they shared their second kiss, and it was longer, more passionate. Giyu tilted his head to the side, moving his lips against Tanjiro’s who clumsily mimicked him.
Tanjiro’s focus broke, and he had to pull away to gasp as he accidentally dropped Total Concentration Constant. Giyu couldn’t help but laugh, amused and slightly smug that he managed to, quite literally, take Tanjiro’s breath away with a kiss.
Tanjiro put his ear to Giyu’s chest as he slightly pouted, a bit embarrassed he’d broken so easily, though he found immense comfort in the way Giyu’s chest moved as he quietly chuckled, and in the thumping heart underneath.
They spent the night happily entangled together, cuddling under the bedsheets for their remaining night in isolation.
-
Tomioka returned to the Slayers HQ in the morning, reporting to Shinobu and receiving a clean bill of health before going to the Master.
“I’m glad that you’re in good health once more, Giyu,” The Master said with his usual, wan smile. “Will you be returning to your duties?”
“That is what I wanted to speak about, sir.” Giyu said, head respectfully tilted down. “Recently, I’ve...sort of gotten engaged, or perhaps promised to be if I or they someday retired, and I’d like to spend more time with them before returning to active duty.”
“Oh? If I may ask, who is it that’s so captured my Hashira’s heart?” Master asked, his smile widening slightly.
“Kamado Tanjiro.” Giyu answered, a tinge of apprehension rising in his chest. What would Master do? Would he reject their union because it would distract them? Or outright ban them from being together? If such were to happen...Giyu may have to become a ronin. Tanjiro needed the resources of the Corps but Giyu could certainly make due slaying on his own.
But, any worry Giyu had flew out of his head when Ubuyashiki answered. “I see. I will allow you 30 days to celebrate your engagement with Kamado-kun, you’ve more than deserved that time off. Congratulations, Giyu.”
Giyu could feel his loyalty to the man deepening even further than it already had. “Thank you, Master.”
-
Giyu was walking out of the butterfly mansion with an armload of supplies when Rengoku approached, as boisterous and loud as ever.
“Tomioka!” Rengoku greeted. “How’re you feeling? I heard you got hit with the flu as well!”
“I feel fine,” Giyu said, facing the blonde. “You?”
“Senjuro came to assist me!” Kyoujiro grinned. “So I’m as right as rain once more!”
“Tanjiro came to help me, I don’t think I’ve felt better in a long time.”
Rengoku’s brow and smile twitched slightly. “Kamado-kun? You had him as your nurse?”
Giyu nodded. “He was quite helpful.”
Rengoku’s smile suddenly went a bit hollow, reminding Giyu of Shinobu for a second. “Excuse me. I need to go speak to Kanzaki-san for a moment.”
Giyu watched him leave, slightly confused at the Flame Hashira’s abrupt exit. But he shrugged, and continued on his way.
-
“Why did you give Kamado to Tomioka?!” Rengoku griped, holding onto the young girls’ shoulders. “If I knew that was an option, I would’ve requested him!”
“T-tomioka-san was being difficult with any other caretakers I sent him!” Kanzaki squeaked. “I had no other choice!”
“If you were assigning Kamado to assist, perhaps I would’ve been a little more ornery!”
“Ah, Rengoku-san!”
Rengoku let Aoi go, standing upright and smiling at Shinobu as she came in. “Good evening, Kocho! I’m glad to see you’re in good health once more!”
“You as well,” Shinobu smiled. “Aoi, could you prepare another bout of flu medicine, please? Seems like HQ has not yet shaken off this sickness!”
“Yes, Ma’am, right away, Ma’am,” Aoi said, bowing before scurrying off.
“More have gotten sick?” Rengoku asked. “That’s unfortunate.”
“It is what it is, and so quickly too,” Shinobu sighed sadly. “Tanjiro was the absolute picture of health yesterday and now he’s-”
“Kamado is sick?!” Rengoku asked, looking perhaps a bit more excited than appropriate. “Where is he? I’ll take care of-”
“That’s very kind of you, but it won’t be necessary,” Shinobu smiled. “Tomioka’s taking a month long vacation and has already volunteered to tend to Tanjiro. They’re being quarantined in one of the Wisteria Houses in an effort to fully eliminate the sickness from the Corps!”
“Oh…I see…” Rengoku said, a bit crestfallen. He turned, leaving behind his fellow Hashira. “Excuse me, I think I need to lie down for a bit. Perhaps I haven’t quite shaken off this sickness.”
‘Heartbreak is going to be significantly harder to shake off than the flu,’ Shinobu thought as she sighed, watching Rengoku go. ‘Oh well. Perhaps Tomioka will be a bit chattier with a lover like Tanjiro.’