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If there was one thing Genya was good at, it was observe. Too reserved to speak to anyone, except to utter rude and rude words, in any situation he found himself observing who he was around. Perhaps in this way he was able to understand others, and to delude himself that he was not alone.
Himejima had noticed.
When they met, Genya had cared little about his rank as a pillar, and he had been rude. Too much for a kid who talks to a superior.
Not that Himejima really cared. He didn't tolerate children, but the one he had in front of him was strange.
He had proposed to welcome him into his own estate. In fact Gyomei lived there alone, and hosting the boy would not have been a disturbance.
Was he rude at times, and impatient? Yes definitely.
Was he mannerless? That definitely not. Each morning, Genya woke up at the first break of dawn. He made up his bed, and got ready for another day of training.
Gyomei was always praying for that hour. He was kneeling outside, and Genya called him warning him of the ready food, and they ate together. Quiet, as always, and Himejima was always happy to sense him eat.
The first time he had eaten in his presence, Genya had seemed like a hungry dog, capable of eating the most disgusting things in order to satisfy his hunger. Maybe that was what caused him to eat demon flesh for the first time? Gyomei didn't like the idea at all, but when it came to his power in general he was convinced that as long as he killed demons while protecting people, there would be no harm.
Now he sat composed, prayed with his eyes closed as his mother had taught him when he was little and they managed to have small peaceful moments, and ate whatever was brought to him, without making the slightest noise, with his eyes on the plate, the mind lost in some thought.
Then, he started training. Gyomei hadn't taken it easy, at all, at first. He had understand Genya's physical strength, and could tell that with training similar to his, his muscle mass would grow even more, helping his body transform into a demon. Genya had never complained, but Gyomei expected it to hurt. He had to change his whole body, in the end, and there would be nothing strange in feeling pain.
Genya knew that he had to be able to complete the initial tests. Himejima-san was the first person to ever see anything in him, and he didn't want to prove to him that he was wrong in doing it.
Even though he knew deep down that he would have do it.
Come on, he didn't even know how to use the breaths, and that already ruled out a future in which Genya could be his tsugoku.
Did it make him sad? No, not really. He would have liked to become a pillar, so 'Nemi would have recognize him, and he would have become worthy of his attention, and maybe he could have recovered that brotherly relationship they had in the past.
But he knew it was a pipe dream, a utopia, an idea born from his mind as an excuse to go on, and that he didn't have to hope too much.
But maybe he could do something good. Maybe 'Nemi wouldn't have accepted him, but he could have try to accept himself. Saving lives, if he had the power to do it, he would have dedicated himself to that. Was it selfish? Probably, but Genya was sure the helpless people wouldn't care much, not as much as being alive and breathing.
Himejima noticed how Genya scanned everything, and everyone, the day after he had welcomed him into his home.
A servant had come there, and stocked them with food, as he did once a week. Genya had analyzed the whole person, the way he moved his hands over nutrients, facial expressions, breath, even the way he walked and placed objects, his heartbeat erratic.
The poor fellow had turned pale, with the feeling that he had been stung by a ferocious beast that would not let him go, and Gyomei had calmly dismissed him.
Soon after, he had felt the same sensation. He walked, and was followed by the boy.
He hadn't seemed the type to look so closely at what was around him, but more like an impatient brat. But he was wrong and judged hastily, it seems.
He had put him through different levels of physical exertion. After two attempts he had overcome the problem of the waterfall, and Himejima did not believe he could ever forget the furious reaction he had after the first failed attempt, which he had glimpsed from behind the trees where he was hiding. He didn't want to stand there while the boy was angry and almost throwing a tantrum, but he wanted to get an idea of the level he was at.
Although he had already succeeded, Genya had remained until lunchtime with his shoulders hit by the water, which had left some bruises hidden from the eyes of others, but that the boy certainly felt. And that he had decided to ignore of course.
And he had prepared his own food. Gyomei had heard him move from the direct stream of the waterfall, and head for the shore. He had traveled to the middle of the river, and after a couple of failed attempts, he had caught a fish, and thrown it to the shore.
He had built a small fire, and had eaten.
Gyomei didn't like the idea of a child so used to the wild life (to do things like that, and like that, you must have gotten used to it), but it was a point in his favor.
Now, it was the turn of the trunks.
And Genya hated to admit it, but they were too heavy for him.
The little boy looked around, and seeing no one, he hastened to break the laces that bound the trunks together.
Gyomei frowned.
He saw him take one of them onto his shoulders and start walking.
The next day, everything would repeat itself. This time he spent about an hour under the waterfall, and the rest of the days working on the trunks.
He was a smart boy, Himejima had to admit it. After three days, he carried four trunks on his shoulder, which he bound together each time using a braided rope (that he had asked one of the servants who tidied up the house).
In recent days, besides the greetings of duty, they had not spoken much.
And Genya wasn't going to. At the very least, he had to complete the initial tests, and then he would be worthy of talking to Himejima-san.
Not that Himejima felt the same way, of course.
"Genya"
The boy had awakened from his usual morning trance, and looked at him as if he thought he had imagined the adult's voice.
"Y-yes?"
He was calmer than usual, it seems.
"You're doing well." Gyomei felt the need to tell him. Because if there was one thing he was good at, it was understanding. Just like Genya.
And he didn't trust the little boy yet. But maybe, he could give him a chance.
"I still can't lift the bundle of trunks. I won't be satisfied until I can." Genya didn't even look at him, and instead stared at the wooden surface up on them ate, his eyes open in an almost maniacal expression, and in that moment he seemed more like Sanemi than ever. It was like having the Pillar himself there, in front of him, pure rage. But not directed on others.
"The method you are using is smart, it is just the beginning of your training, and you are coping well with it. Isn't that enough?"
"No. I don't care if it's done wrong in the eyes of others, if it's done halfway it's not a victory"
And the oldest would have accompanied him to train, but this time he would not have observed him from afar. And before he left, he would give Genya a pat on the head (leaving him surprised and about to cry, something Gyomei noticed even with the smell of tears almost covered by his own).
Gyomei would have thought back to that morning, years later, and realized how Genya had remained the same.
Now, Gyomei could say he was happy to have accepted this little boy as his pupil. Even if he was left with a bad taste in his mouth just at the thought of not being able to make him his tsugoku.
Gyomei cared about Genya, in his own strange way.
Now in the morning they prayed together. Gyomei had started calling him earlier, personally. He waited for him to get out, and silently let him listen to what he was whispering under his breath. Over time, Genya had learned those ancient litanies.
They ate breakfast together, always silent, but only because they were both quiet and not very noisy. It was going to be a relaxed meal, and after that they would work out, or go on some mission.
Now, Genya was receiving more and more frequent missions. Under an agreement made by Himejima-san and Oyakata-sama (who had widely encouraged Gyomei to take care of Genya at the time), he was assigned precise missions, aimed at his abilities, and above all alone, so as not to spread the voice of his abilities. Genya endured days without food or sleep, which came in handy on missions that promised days of investigating and casting out demons.
He had found that the gun was the weapon that best suited him, considering the keen eyesight he had and his utmost attention to the smallest details. Each month he was stocked with nichirin bullets, and Gyomei himself made sure he always had more.
It happened to be those times when the adult was forced to spend weeks away, on a mission against the worst demons around.
Gyomei didn't mind going back to his estate and finding someone to welcome him.
Even when he was on a mission, Genya always found a way to return first, and welcome him when he returned.
And Gyomei, as the years went by, realized how he would not be able to regret welcoming him. Gyomei trusted him, because he was sincere with him.
And if there was one thing Gyomei admired about a person, it was sincerity.
Genya was taller now, reaching his chin now. He had let the hair grow, in that characteristic cut. He was barely fifteen years old, and he had achieved considerable muscle, certainly better than Gyomei was at his age; yes, Gyomei was sure that Genya would have appreciated his own physique more if it weren't covered by the killer's marks and countless scars, caused by all those times he had been forced to hand-to-hand with a demon. He didn't even look fifteen.
And that scared the pillar a little. He was really young, and Gyomei had always hated the idea of using those children as weapons, exploiting their hatred of those beings they weren't usually ready to face.
Whenever he went to the Butterflies Estate for the weekly tests, Shinobu would inform him of how he was, how his body resisted the toxicity of the demon flesh, and this could only make him happy.
And he was getting stronger.
Genya was untalented.
If he mastered an art, it was only and solely thanks to his commitment and his devotion. And he probably didn't even notice, convinced as he was that he didn't deserve anything if he didn't excel.
"What's the point of setting yourself a goal if you can't get it right, and be perfect?"
Apparently his goal was to survive as long as it took to have a real conversation with his brother.
And Gyomei, despite the love he felt for the boy, was not happy with the idea.
Sanemi didn't want to have anything to do with Genya, he had made it clear, and as much as the reasons were unknown to him, he didn't want him to hurt the boy like that.
If not even Oyakata-sama could change his mind, no one could. But Gyomei was more than happy to take care of the young man, until he was comfortable enough with himself to attempt the madness of reasoning with Sanemi Shinazugawa.
And Genya had the support of Gyomei, and Ubuyashiki-sama who wasn't exactly the least important man in the world.
It was enough for Gyomei to know that Genya was safe, and aware that he was not alone.