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Chapter Text

Tomioka Giyū stares at his phone screen.

Popular Manga Author Found Dead in Home, the news article title proclaims, no matter how long Giyū stares at it for. The following paragraphs include phrases such as, possible stroke, and signs of overwork, but the details are vague at best, and it doesn’t take long for Giyū to reach the end of the article.

He opens a new tab and types the author’s name into the search bar.

Giyū doesn’t usually read manga. Between teaching and coaching the school’s kendo team, he doesn’t generally have much free time, and he’d never been one for reading anyway. But Sword of Destruction had gotten so popular that almost all of his students and a good half of his coworkers seemed to have read it, so he’d decided he might as well give it a try.

He’d finished the first volume and gone out to buy the second within the same evening. After that, it had taken him less than a week to catch up with the serialization, and he’d found himself with a Leap! subscription, a copy of the official character guidebook, and a boxed set of the anime DVDs.

It was mainly because of Sabito.

Despite being a shōnen protagonist, Sabito wasn’t the brimming-with-unfounded-confidence type. Maybe it was because he was older than most shōnen protagonists, eighteen at the beginning of the series, but although he was passionate, he was generally level-headed and hardworking. He was well-liked and kind, but could be equally as strict, and had a sense of self-righteous justice suited to a character who spent most of the series slaying demons.

Sabito was the sort of person Giyū wished he could be like. But instead, whenever he was too strict, he made students cry instead of inspiring them to work harder, and even when he tried to be friendly, it didn’t seem to endear people to him much.

Giyū’s phone vibrates with a message, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Do you know where the key to the storage shed behind the gym is? It’s not with the other keys

Giyū blinks at the message slowly, and then checks the time. He has five minutes until the kendo team’s morning practice is supposed to start.

He doesn’t bother trying to finish the rest of his breakfast, instead putting his dishes in the sink and grabbing his bag. He keeps his phone out, though, still scrolling through news articles as he shoves on his shoes, and he uses his free hand to dig out his keys, Sabito keychains clacking.

None of the other news articles have much more information about the situation. There’s a bit of speculation about whether the series could be taken over by someone else, but there’s also something about publication rights and how the author’s father hadn’t wanted him to become a manga artist anyway, even after the series had gotten so popular.

As Giyū starts down the stairs, it occurs to him that he may never know how Sabito’s story was supposed to end. There’s probably an outline for the current arc, at least, and maybe notes for the series as a whole, but it all depends on how much the author actually –

Giyū misses a step.

---

Giyū comes to slowly.

“You know, I can tell you’re awake.”

Giyū blinks and shifts slightly, looking over in the direction of the voice. There’s a young woman kneeling against the tatami next to him, clad in what looks like some sort of military uniform and a haori, her dark hair held up by a butterfly hairpin.

There’s something familiar about her, but Giyū can’t quite place it, and he feels his forehead crease as he examines her.

“Your fever’s broken,” the woman says, arranging a row of small jars and other tools. “How are you feeling?”

For a moment, Giyū’s quiet, but then he asks, “Where am I?”

The room doesn’t look familiar. It’s at least the size of his whole apartment and looks like it belongs in some sort of fancy estate, shoji lining one wall and tasteful, minimalist art on another.

“The Water Pillar Estate,” the woman answers, and Giyū feels the creases in his forehead deepen. Like the woman’s appearance, there’s something strangely familiar about that name. “You’ve been asleep for three days. Your students came to get me when they found you passed out in the courtyard, which is personally more than I would do, if I was them. You should be sure to thank them for it.”

She smiles, but there’s nothing kind about it.

“Now, you didn’t answer my question,” she continues. “How are you feeling? Any dizziness or nausea?”

Giyū considers the question, and then shakes his head.

“I feel fine,” he answers truthfully. A little lethargic, maybe, but certainly not like he’s been laid up with a fever for the past three days.

“Well, then I can’t give you much of a diagnosis,” the woman says, matter-of-fact. She reaches out to cup Giyū’s cheeks in her hands, pulling down his eyelids slightly to examine his pupils, and then clicks her tongue, before adding, “I suppose you’re just delicate.”

Giyū blinks at her. He’s never been accused of being delicate before.

A knock on the door breaks him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” the woman calls out, releasing her grip on Giyū’s face.

Giyū pushes himself into a sitting position, frowning as he realizes that he’s wearing a yukata. He busies himself with adjusting it, only half-aware of the sound of the shoji sliding open, and it’s not until he’s retied it properly that he looks up to –

“I brought some water, as you requested,” a young man says, dropping down to kneel against the tatami.

Giyū stares.

It’s Sabito.

Even though this Sabito is a flesh and blood human, and not the 2D version Giyū’s used to, it’s easy to identify him. His hair is the exact same rusty color as the cover art, soft looking and a little frizzy, and his trademark scar extends out from the corner of his mouth, up towards his ear and into his hairline.

It looks too real to be make up, no matter how professional, and Giyū almost reaches out to brush his fingertips over the raised tissue, before he catches himself.

“There’s nothing wrong with him, as far as I can tell,” the woman tells Sabito, breaking Giyū out of his thoughts. “I’ll be back to check on him tomorrow, but if he passes out again, call me immediately.”

Ah, Giyū thinks, as he finally recognizes her too. Kochō Shinobu is smaller than he thought she would be.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sabito answers, inclining his head politely.

“You’ll be barred from going on missions until I’ve cleared you,” Shinobu says, addressing Giyū this time as she pushes herself up to her feet. She smiles a little too sharply again and adds, “Although I doubt you’ll mind that. Next time, find a way to slack off without wasting my time, if you would.”

With that, she turns to leave. Giyū watches her go, and wonders if she’s always like that.

“How are you feeling?” Sabito asks, once the door has closed behind Shinobu.

Giyū looks back at Sabito, and then says, “I’m fine.”

Sabito opens his mouth, as if to press for a more detailed answer. Apparently he thinks better of it, though, because he pauses and then says, “Kochō-san wanted you to drink some water and have something to eat when you woke up. Is there anything specific you’d like me to prepare?”

The mention of food finally makes Giyū realize how hungry he is.

“Anything is fine,” he answers. It seems to catch Sabito off guard, because he falters for a beat, but his voice is steady as he says, “Alright. Please give me some time to prepare the food.”

He pours a glass of water and then hands it to Giyū, before pushing himself back up to his feet. Part of Giyū wants to ask him to stay and answer questions, but he’s still not entirely sure if this is a dream or not, so instead he just waits for Sabito to leave, and then pinches himself.

Nothing happens.

Where is he, then?

User Code: “Where am I?” activated! a cheery voice exclaims, and Giyū startles slightly as a glowing, semi-translucent screen pops up in his field of vision. It looks like some sort of video game map – not that he has much experience playing video games – and he feels his forehead crease as he studies the menu options.

Giyū hesitates, but then asks, “What is this?”

For a moment, nothing happens, but then the cheery voice says, In your final moments, you expressed a desire to know how Sword of Destruction character Sabito’s story ended. Your afterlife experience has been modified to accommodate your dying wish.

Giyū stares blankly at the screen for a long moment.

So this isn’t a dream.

Now that he thinks about it, though, he does remember dying. Or, rather, he remembers tripping on the stairs, hitting his head, and his vision going suddenly, ominously black.

Hopefully it wasn’t his neighbor who found him. He wouldn’t want to traumatize her with something like this.

“Who am I?” he tries next.

We do our best to match each user with the most physically compatible character, the cheery voice answers. You have been matched with the Tomioka Giyū account.

Ah.

He’d almost forgotten about Tomioka Giyū.

Tomioka Giyū had been the villain in the first story arc, and Giyū’s least favorite, only partially because they’d shared the same name. At least they’d had different kanji, but that had only made it marginally less annoying, because the other Tomioka’s main character trait had seemed to be hating Sabito for no particular reason.

Well. Maybe not quite no particular reason.

Tomioka Giyū was a coward who wasn’t worthy of being the Water Pillar. He’d only become the Water Pillar in the first place by worming his way into the former Water Pillar’s good graces and then sabotaging his competition so that there were no other successor options. And then, of course, when Urokodaki had taken Sabito on as a student, Tomioka had been quick to realize that Sabito was far more talented than him, and had done his best to sabotage Sabito’s training.

It hadn’t worked, of course. Sabito was the type of protagonist who could overcome any sort of setback with enough hard work, and in the end, Tomioka had decided to try to get rid of him permanently, by placing a high-level demon on Fujikasane Mountain for the Final Selection.

In the end, Sabito had killed the demon, but not before it had revealed that Tomioka had tested it out on Makomo, one of Urokodaki’s other students, first, and used it to kill her in the previous year’s Final Selection.

Afterwards, Sabito had killed Tomioka in a righteous fury and left the Demon Slaying Corps to hunt demons on his own. It had been the catalyst for him to eventually form his own, more effective, demon slaying faction, which had actually been one of Giyū’s favorite arcs, but considering the current situation…

It should be fine. He doesn’t particularly care about being the Water Pillar, so as long as he doesn’t put that demon on Fujikasane Mountain –

Waring! the cheery system voice chirps. Your account will be automatically terminated if you do not fulfill the mission goal: Place the Hand Demon on Fujikasane Mountain.

Giyū blinks slowly.

Account termination does not sound particularly good, he decides.

“How old is Sabito currently?” Giyū asks, after a beat.

Sabito is eighteen, the system answers.

Which means that it’s been less than a year since Tomioka had convinced Urokodaki to send Sabito and Makomo from Sagiri Mountain to the Water Pillar Estate, to train under him instead. It also means he should have two more years until Sabito is twenty and eligible to enter the Final Selection, and one year until Makomo is.

Hopefully that will be enough time to think of a different solution.

After all, if he doesn’t, he won’t be able to see any more of Sabito’s story than he did last time.

---

Giyū’s paging through a handwritten book on Breath of Water techniques when Sabito returns with food.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” Sabito says, as he kneels down next to Giyū’s futon. Giyū sets aside the book and accepts the tray from Sabito, examining the neatly arranged dishes, and is relieved to find that there’s nothing he can’t identify.

“Thank you,” he says, as he picks up his chopsticks.

It takes Sabito a moment to reply, and Giyū glances over at him, but Sabito smooths out his expression before Giyū can read anything from it.

“I’ll leave you to your meal,” Sabito says, inclining his head slightly. “Please call me if there’s anything – ”

“Stay,” Giyū interrupts.

Sabito blinks at him, looking caught off guard.

“Tell me about what’s happened in the past few days,” Giyū clarifies, and Sabito nods, his posture relaxing again.

“I don’t think there’s much to report,” Sabito replies. Giyū can feel Sabito’s eyes on him as he picks up a bowl of rice, taking a small bite. “All urgent mission requests have been transferred to the Flame Pillar Estate, for the time being. I’ve drafted a letter of apology to Rengoku-san, if you would like to review it before sending it out.”

Giyū makes a vague noise of assent and then asks, “And how is your training?”

Sabito stares at him.

“I,” Sabito starts, a little haltingly, “was under the impression that I was to wait for your approval before beginning my training.”

Ah. That had been how the series started, hadn’t it?

Although Sabito had already learned a number of techniques under Urokodaki, upon coming to the Water Pillar Estate, Tomioka had refused to train him, with the excuse that he wasn’t ready yet. Instead, Tomioka had put Sabito to work doing menial labor, such as cleaning the estate and transcribing mission reports.

Of course, Sabito had decided to train on his own instead. Between all his chores during the day and Tomioka’s constant observation, he usually had to train in the woods at night, but that had been better than no training, at least, and it had improved his night vision too.

Giyū considers the situation for a moment.

He’s not really in a position to train anyone. Although the original Tomioka Giyū had been weak, he’d still been strong enough to slay most low-level demons without difficulty, and although Giyū’s fairly confident in his kendo skills, he’s never been in a real swordfight before. Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t know anything about the Breath of Water techniques, beyond the vague descriptions of them he’d read in the Sword of Destruction guidebook.

Something occurs to him.

“Read this,” Giyū says, holding out the book he had been reading. He hasn’t finished it yet, but it seems like a good enough guide, although admittedly too advanced for his current abilities. Sabito’s learned enough from Urokodaki that he should be able to use it though.

Sabito looks stunned.

“I can’t train you,” Giyū says bluntly, still holding out the book. “Read this and start thinking about how to train on your own.”

It had worked in the manga, after all. With a guidebook it’ll probably go even faster.

Sabito hesitates, but then says, “I can’t accept this.”

His posture is tense again, hands clenched into fists against his thighs, and a frown tugs at the corners of Giyū’s mouth.

“It’s not a request,” Giyū retorts. “Read it and write up a training regimen to submit to me by tomorrow.”

Is tomorrow too soon? It’s not that long of a book, and it’s not like Sabito has any other training to do anyway. If anything, Sabito actually seems to relax a little, now that he has a concrete assignment, but he still looks like he’s bracing himself as he accepts the book.

“Understood,” Sabito replies, holding the book carefully. “Is there anything else you require at the moment?”

Giyū considers it, and then says, “No. You can leave.”

Sabito bows again and then pushes himself to his feet.

Giyū turns back to his food as the door slides shut. He picks up his chopsticks and breaks off a piece of fish, taking a tentative bite. It’s better than he expected, and he goes back in for another piece, bigger this time.

He was hungrier than he realized, and it doesn’t take long for him to pick the dishes clean. The manga had never actually said much about Sabito’s cooking skills, other than the fact that Tomioka had forced him to prepare meals for the estate residents, but now that Giyū thinks about it, the fact that the original Tomioka had never been shown to complain about the food should have been enough of an indication of Sabito’s cooking ability.

He supposes it’s good one of them can cook. He’d never been particularly good at it himself.

Giyū spends the rest of the day paging through the records and books he can find in his room. Thankfully, although the manga was ostensibly set in the Taisho era, the books are all written in modern characters – presumably because this is a fictional world – and although it takes him a bit of effort to decipher some of the handwriting, he’s able to read everything fairly easily.

Because the author had never specified much about the details of each swordsmanship style, the basics seem to be the same as the kendo Giyū’s familiar with. He’s not exactly sure how the “breaths” are supposed to work, but there are some descriptions in the records that the previous Water Pillars left behind, and with enough practice, he’ll probably be able to figure it out.

Unfortunately, he can’t just practice out in the open.

Although most of the other characters had seemed to realize that the original Tomioka was the weakest of the pillars, he wasn’t weak enough for them to argue that he should be demoted. At the very least, he’d been able to use all of the Breath of Water techniques, and it would look strange if anyone saw him struggling to perform techniques that they’d seen him perform before.

So, the next morning, Giyū takes his katana and goes out into the woods. It takes a bit of wandering, but eventually he finds a large enough clearing to practice in, and unsheaths his katana.

It’s a little heavier than the wooden or bamboo swords he’s used to, but not enough to hinder his movements. Although he hasn’t done it since college, he has used a real katana for kata demonstrations, and after a few practice swings, he can feel himself readjusting to the new weight.

His body also seems to remember some things for him. The original Tomioka was, as Giyū had observed in the bath the other day, a very fit twenty-something. As a P.E. teacher, Giyū had been athletic too, but he supposes there’s a difference between playing volleyball with teenagers and fighting demons on a daily basis.

It could also be the shōnen manga influence, although Giyū doesn’t recall any fourteen-year-olds with six-packs in Sword of Destruction. That might have just been because most of the characters were older, though.

Thankfully, his body seems to remember how to perform breaths too. The hardest part is actually not paying too much attention to his breathing, because his conscious thoughts start interfering with his body’s automatic movements, and it brings everything to a halt.

At least it means that, with enough practice, he probably won’t look suspicious to the other Pillars, but he doubts he’ll be able to instruct Sabito properly.

Giyū’s broken out of his thoughts as a scratchy voice caws, “TOMIOKA GIYŪ-SAMA.”

Giyū looks up to find a crow swooping down towards him. He flinches slightly as it lands on his shoulder, its nails digging in a little too hard. The crow takes a moment to steady itself, shifting around until it’s satisfied with its perch, and then announces, “THE INSECT PILLAR HAS ARRIVED AT THE ESTATE.”

Giyū blinks.

Shinobu did say she would be back to check on him again, didn’t she?

“Thank you,” Giyū says to the crow. He hesitates, but then reaches a finger up to stroke the top of the crow’s head. The bird doesn’t protest, but it also doesn’t show any particular appreciation for the gesture, so Giyū drops his hand and adds, “Please inform her that I’ll be with her in a few minutes.”

The crow makes a noise of acknowledgement, and then launches itself back into the air.

It teeters a little bit before steadying itself, and briefly Giyū wonders if crows are allowed to retire. This one certainly seems old enough to.

With that thought, Giyū sheaths his sword and starts back towards the estate.

When he arrives, he finds Shinobu sitting on the porch overlooking the courtyard, Sabito kneeling stiffly beside her. Giyū’s crow has made itself comfortable on Sabito’s shoulder, and there’s another girl kneeling next to Sabito, a smile on her face as she feeds the crow dried persimmons.

Sabito catches sight of Giyū first, and rises quickly to his feet.

“Tomioka-sensei,” Sabito says, bowing slightly, and the girl next to him follows suit.

“If I knew you were going to be up and about so soon, I would have started approving missions for you already,” Shinobu says. The look in her eyes doesn’t match the smile on her face. “I thought you’d be lazing around in bed for at least another few days.”

“I don’t feel feverish anymore,” Giyū replies, as he comes to a stop in front of Shinobu.

Shinobu makes a non-committal noise that Giyū’s not entirely sure how to interpret.

“Tomioka-sensei, are you sure you’re feeling alright?” the girl next to Sabito asks, and Giyū turns to look at her.

Now that he’s close enough to see her face, he’s fairly sure she’s Makomo. She’d actually been his second favorite character, behind Sabito, and it had only made him hate the original Tomioka more when it was revealed he’d murdered her. At least the author had brought her back a few arcs later as a demon, although Giyū never really cared for how she and Sabito had ended up in a tragic, will-they-won’t-they human/demon romance.

“Tomioka-sensei?” Makomo says again, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. “If you need anything, Sabito and I can take care of it.”

“I’m fine,” Giyū replies, a little curtly. “I just went for a walk.”

Neither Makomo, Sabito, or Shinobu look very convinced.

“Well, I find it hard to believe that you were bedridden for three days and are now suddenly fine,” Shinobu announces, standing up from the porch. “I’m going to do another physical exam.”

Giyū’s fairly sure she’s not going to find anything, but he nods.

Sabito and Makomo don’t try to follow him and Shinobu as they head back to his room, but he can feel their eyes on his back the entire way.

---

Sabito scowls down at the pot of rice on the stove.

It’s been three days since Tomioka Giyū’s fever broke, and according to Kochō, there’s nothing wrong with him.

Sabito doesn’t particularly want there to be something wrong with him. Tomioka has, so far, proven himself to be a relatively unpleasant person, but he still lets Sabito have three square meals a day and a roof over his head, so Sabito can’t exactly call him evil.

That doesn’t mean he’s happy being treated like a servant, though. He turns away from the rice pot and reaches up to take down some dishes from one of the higher shelves, arranging them neatly on a wooden tray.

Up until three days ago, he didn’t think Tomioka had any intention of training him.

When Urokodaki had first sent him to the Water Pillar Estate, he’d been prepared for strict daily training, similar to what he’d experienced on Sagiri Mountain. But instead, Tomioka had assigned him a list of chores and told him to finish them by sundown, if he wanted any time to sleep.

At first he’d thought it was some sort of test. But then a week passed, and then a month, and he’d eventually been forced to conclude that the real training would never come.

That was, until Tomioka woke up from his fever and decided that maybe his students weren’t quite such a waste of his time.

Sabito sits down at the low table in the center of the room and picks up the book Tomioka had given him three days ago. It’s probably not something he should be carrying around with him, but he hadn’t wanted to leave it in his room, where anyone could get to it. He’s still not entirely convinced that this isn’t just some ploy by Tomioka to steal or damage the book, and then blame it on him, in order to have an excuse to finally disavow him as a student.

After all, this book isn’t supposed to be read by anyone but the Water Pillar or their direct successor.

It’s a record of all the Breath of Water techniques, passed down from Pillar to Pillar. It includes how to perform them, their advantages and weaknesses, when they were developed and who they were developed by. It talks about how to teach each technique too, which Sabito assumes is the part Tomioka wanted him to focus on, and he’d done his best to think of a training regimen which would incorporate the advice properly.

He’d spent a whole night trying to come up with a flawless training regimen, but he’d still expected Tomioka to tear it apart when he turned it in the next day.

Instead, Tomioka had written a couple adjustments, handed it back to him, and told him to start training with Makomo the next morning.

Part of Sabito wonders if maybe Tomioka has a twin.

Not that they’re all that dissimilar. Tomioka still doesn’t talk much, and when he does, it’s in that same reserved, cool tone that makes most people give him a wide berth. And even though he’d approved the training regimen, he still hasn’t made any effort to do any teaching himself, and part of Sabito wonders if maybe Tomioka had just given him that book because he’s too lazy to do anything else.

The pot on the stove rattles a little, breaking Sabito from his thoughts.

He slips the book back into his hakama and gets up to check on the food. Everything seems to be done cooking, so he spoons portions out into the bowls on the tray, and then extinguishes the fire.

With that, he picks up the tray and heads for Tomioka’s room.

When he knocks on the door, there’s no answer. He waits a minute, and then knocks again, but there’s no response, so he finally slides the door open.

Just like the past three mornings, the room is empty. From what Sabito’s observed over the past few months, although Tomioka isn’t prone to oversleeping, he’s also not a particularly early riser, and Sabito frowns as he sets the breakfast tray down on the tatami. As far as he knows, they haven’t received any new missions yet, and even if they had, Tomioka always informs him before leaving, if only to make him prepare a supply pack.

Sabito leaves the tray in the room and closes the door again.

With that, he starts down the hall.

He checks every room in the estate, but doesn’t catch so much as a glimpse of Tomioka. The courtyard and surrounding gardens are also empty, so Sabito grabs his katana and starts towards the edge of the woods.

There shouldn’t be any demons around now that the sun is out, but Sabito’s spent enough time in the forest to be wary of the boars and other animals, even if keeping a good distance is usually enough to keep from disturbing them. He makes his way down the rabbit trails, checking a couple of small shrines, before heading in the direction of the clearing he usually uses to train at night.

He finds Tomioka in the clearing.

Sabito watches Tomioka for a long moment.

Tomioka doesn’t seem to notice him, shoulders flexing as he does practice swings. His posture is perfect, spine straight and elbows held at just the right angle, and it demonstrates a level of discipline and experience that Sabito hadn’t thought to associate with Tomioka.

After all, Tomioka’s not a real Pillar.

Sabito’s never particularly approved of gossip, but even without actively participating, it’s hard not to overhear what people say about Tomioka. Kochō’s never hid her dislike of him, and Shinazugawa is even more vocal about his distaste, and based on some of the rumors, Sabito can’t really blame them.

Apparently, the only reason Tomioka made it through the Final Selection was because he’d used another participant as a shield. He’d hid behind everyone else and then left them to die whenever they encountered a demon that was too strong, and he hadn’t even attempted to fight any demons himself.

And he hadn’t become a Pillar based on merit. He hadn’t slayed fifty demons or a member of the Twelve Moons. Instead, he’d pestered Urokodaki into taking him on as a student and then slowly pushed Urokodaki towards retirement, until Urokodaki had no other options but to make him the new Water Pillar.

So after months of waiting for Tomioka to start their training, Sabito had started to wonder if maybe, Tomioka refused to train him because he was afraid. Because he knew he wouldn’t be strong enough to contest his position as the Water Pillar.

Looking at Tomioka now, though, Sabito’s not so sure.

Tomioka is beautiful.

His movements are fluid and graceful and aloof, as if he could cut down his opponent without so much as batting an eyelash. He looks untouchable.

There’s no reason for him to be training out in the woods here, though. There’s a perfectly good dojo in the estate, and well-maintained training grounds too, and Tomioka could use them whenever he likes, as the master of the estate.

It occurs to Sabito that maybe Tomioka doesn’t want people to know that he trains.

Although the other demon slayers call Tomioka weak, he’s been the Water Pillar for a number of years now and hasn’t died yet. And Kochō may say he’s lazy for not training, but is it more embarrassing to train constantly and be called weak, or to pretend you’ve never put in any effort anyway?

Maybe Tomioka cares about the rumors more than he lets on.

After all, Tomioka hadn’t said, “I won’t train you.” Tomioka had said, “I can’t train you,” and then given him a book that was only meant to be read by the Water Pillar and their successor.

Maybe the person who’s the least certain of his worthiness as a Pillar is Tomioka himself.

---

“TOMIOKA GIYŪ-SAMA.”

Giyū looks up from his book to find his crow flying towards him. He holds out his arm, trying to ignore the way the crow’s talons dig into his skin, and waits for it to settle itself.

Then, it says, “THE WATER PILLAR HAS BEEN ASSIGNED A MISSION.”

It sticks out its leg, and Giyū accepts the letter tied to it, scanning it quickly.

It seems like an easy enough mission. Apparently a family in a village in southern Chiba was killed, in the sort of messy way that implied a demon was probably responsible. There’s also a note from Shinobu that says, “Even you should be able to complete this one,” along with some instructions on what to do if he develops a sudden fever again.

Giyū’s still not really sure if she cares about him or not.

He appreciates having an easy mission, though, even if it’s probably not for the reasons Shinobu thinks it is. After a week of training, he’s gotten a good handle on breaths, but it’ll be good to test them out on low-level demons first, before having to fight anything regarded as Pillar-worthy.

Also, this way he can give Sabito and Makomo some field experience.

“Thank you,” Giyū says to his crow. He strokes a finger over its head and it makes a noise that sounds pleased – or at least not displeased – and then takes off again.

Giyū folds the letter back up, and starts for the training grounds.

“Tomioka-sensei!” Makomo exclaims as she spots him. She smiles brightly, lowering her bokken, and reaches up to wipe the sweat off her brow.

She’s warmed up to him remarkably quickly, Giyū thinks. Then again, although the original Tomioka had eventually killed her, he hadn’t treated her as badly as Sabito. Giyū’s not entirely sure if that’s just because Sabito was the protagonist, and therefore needed to suffer more, or if it was due to some sort of sexist chivalry on his predecessor’s part.

Giyū supposes he’s grateful for it either way, because although Makomo was generally portrayed as a softer, nicer character than Sabito, after being turned into a demon, she’d revealed a fairly disturbing ruthless streak.

“Tomioka-sensei,” Sabito greets him, breaking Giyū out of his thoughts. “We’re almost finished with our practice swings. Did you want to critique our sparring next?”

“No,” Giyū replies, looking over at Sabito. “We have a mission.”

“We?” Sabito asks, frowning slightly.

“It seems to be a fairly low-level demon,” Giyū says. Hopefully Sabito won’t think he’s trying to get them killed. “The two of you need more combat experience if you want to survive the Final Selection.”

Sabito and Makomo blink at him for a moment.

“You have twenty minutes to prepare,” Giyū finishes, looking back at them expectantly.

“Yes, sir!” Sabito and Makomo reply in unison, snapping to attention. They’re both trying to suppress smiles – not very successfully – and idly, Giyū wonders if they’re really that happy to hear that he doesn’t actively want them dead.

Hopefully Sabito will remember this, if he really does end up having to put that demon on Fujikasane Mountain.

Sabito and Makomo quickly set about preparing their travel packs. They’re clearly experienced with this part at least, and insist on preparing Giyū’s things too, so he ends up sitting on the porch overlooking the courtyard, sipping at a cup of tea.

Briefly, Giyū wonders what transportation around here is like. He doesn’t remember much of what he’d learned about the Taisho era in high school.

“Where are we headed?” Makomo asks, once she and Sabito have finished packing. Giyū doesn’t have a clock, but it seems like they’d finished in much less than twenty minutes. He’s a little impressed.

“Southern Chiba,” Giyū answers, pulling the mission request out from his uniform pocket. His crow swoops down, circling around above them expectantly, and Giyū hopes that means it’ll be the one navigating. He doesn’t even know what prefecture they’re in, currently.

“We should try to make as much progress as we can before dark,” Sabito says, turning to head towards the entryway.

Apparently, demon slayers walk.

Or at least they do a lot of walking. They take the train part of the way, but the suspected demon attacks they’ve been assigned to investigate are in a relatively isolated village, and there’s not much traffic going back and forth from it.

Briefly, Giyū wonders if he should invest in a horse. He isn’t sure he trusts himself to keep a horse alive, though, and he’s not even entirely sure of his financial situation. Do demon slayers get paid?

It takes about a day and a half to get to the village, and it’s just starting to get dark when they arrive. Giyū’s crow leads them into the village, and they make their way down the main road, past darkened storefronts. It’s a little eerie, how dark and quiet the town is, and Giyū finds his hand straying to the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at any moment.

“There’s no one here,” Sabito observes, his mouth slanting into a frown as he looks around the empty street.

“Didn’t the report say that only one family had been killed?” Makomo asks, her hand going to rest on the hilt of her katana.

“It’s been two days,” Giyū says. He keeps his voice steady, but he can feel the skin on the back of his neck prickle. “The situation may have changed.”

It could be that the other villagers are just hiding. There are less than a hundred people in this village, though, and the closest town is a three hour walk away. It wouldn’t be hard for a strong enough demon to massacre the entire population, and who knows how long it would take for someone outside the village to notice.

If that’s the case, though, it also means the demon’s depleted its food source.

The crack of a branch is the only warning they get.

Giyū draws his katana on instinct, his body moving faster than his mind. He’s quick enough to block the demon’s hand, the sharp of his blade biting into the demon’s palm, and blood oozes slowly from the wound, reflecting against the moonlight.

It’s the first time Giyū’s ever drawn blood with a katana before.

He puts more force behind his blade and cuts the demon’s fingers off.

The demon hisses and jumps back, eyeing the three of them. Giyū doesn’t look back to see if Sabito and Makomo have drawn their swords, instead keeping his gazed fixed on the demon, and he adjusts his stance, waiting for the next attack.

Instead of attacking again, though, the demon turns to yell, “I found more humans!”

There’s the slam of a sliding door being wrenched open, and another three demons spill out of a nearby store. Giyū resists the urge to click his tongue and makes a quick decision, lunging at the demon in front of him. It’s quicker than he expected, though, and his katana misses its neck by a centimeter as it jumps back, the blade slicing through empty air.

This might be more difficult than he’d anticipated. He’d competed nationally in kendo competitions in college, but while his opponents had been skilled, he hadn’t been aiming to behead them. It’s hard to not default to aiming for the chest or shoulder, and Giyū frowns as he wonders exactly how much force he’ll have to put behind his swing to slice cleanly through a demon’s neck. He doesn’t particularly want to have to just hack at it until it comes off.

“Tomioka-sensei!”

Giyū’s broken out of his thoughts by Makomo’s voice, and he glances over to find another demon lunging at him from behind. He dodges, and before he can even think about what he’s doing, he takes a swing at the demon with his katana.

The blade slices cleanly through the demon’s neck.

The demon’s head falls to the ground and bounces a few times before coming to a stop. It starts disintegrating a moment later, the demon’s eyes wide as its neck erodes into ash, and it barely has time to scream before there’s nothing left of it.

Well. At least his body still remembers how to kill demons.

Another demon yells something, and Giyū snaps back to attention. Makomo and Sabito are each engaged with a demon, stances firm as they block each blow. They’re both still on the defensive, but neither are losing ground, so Giyū turns away to look for the final demon, gaze sharp as he looks for any movement in the dark.

He spots the demon starting towards Makomo, and he doesn’t hesitate to intercept it. His katana slices through the demon’s shoulder like butter, lopping off its arm, and the demon stumbles back, hissing in pain as it clutches its bloody shoulder. Giyū watches on in fascination as it only takes a few moments for the demon’s shoulder to start growing back, a fleshy protrusion spasming and twisting as it morphs itself into a new limb.

Giyū doesn’t wait for it to finish before attacking, though.

“Fuck,” the demon hisses, as Giyū lunges towards it.

It turns to flee, but now that Giyū knows what to expect, it’s easy enough to keep up with the demon’s speed, and the demon doesn’t even have the time to try to block the attack before Giyū’s blade slices into its neck.

The demon’s head comes off cleanly, and Giyū doesn’t wait for it to hit the ground this time.

Instead, he turns back towards Sabito and Makomo.

Both of them are holding their own against the demons. Makomo’s opponent is missing a hand and has a gash across its face, and Sabito’s is bleeding profusely from its throat, although the wound isn’t nearly deep enough to behead it.

Giyū pauses for a moment, observing them, and then starts towards Makomo. The demon she’s fighting has its back to him, and he makes eye contact with her briefly, before plunging his katana into the center of the demon’s back.

The demon yells out in pain, but Makomo doesn’t let that distract her as she swings at its neck. She doesn’t have quite enough force behind her swing, though, and her katana stops about three quarters of the way through. The demon tries to struggle, but Giyū keeps it in place, his katana still lodged in its chest, and waits for Makomo to try again.

She grits her teeth, pulls her blade out of the demon’s neck, and then swings again.

This time, it makes it all the way through.

The demon begins to disintegrate and Giyū looks over to check on Sabito. Sabito’s still engaged with the last demon, and there’s a cut on his cheek now, blood dripping down to trace the contours of his scar. The demon doesn’t seem to be having an easy time of it either, tough, and while it’s regenerating quickly enough, its clothes are bloody from half-healed wounds.

Sabito and the demon circle each other for a moment, eyes intent as they size each other up, and Giyū’s heart beats fast in anticipation as he watches them.

Although the author of Sword of Destruction had never included many details about the swordsmanship styles in the series, it had been clear to Giyū that they had at least a bit of a background in martial arts. He’d always enjoyed reading Sabito’s fight scenes, and even though Sabito isn’t as skilled now as he’d been where Giyū had left off reading, there’s hints of his potential in the way he fixes his stance and examines his opponent.

“Tomioka-sensei?”

Makomo’s voice breaks Giyū out of his thoughts, and he tears his eyes away from Sabito.

“Check the nearby buildings for any other demons,” Giyū says, recomposing himself. “We don’t know how many more could be in the area.”

“What about Sabito?” Makomo asks, her expression shifting into something Giyū can’t quite read.

“Sabito will be fine,” Giyū says.

With that, he turns on his heel and starts towards the nearest storefront.

After all, this isn’t real life, it’s a story. Makomo’s an important character, but the author had had no qualms about killing off fan favorites, so although she’s relevant to the plot, there’s no guarantee that she’ll survive any given battle.

But Sabito is the protagonist. This world doesn’t exist without Sabito, so there’s no chance that such a low-level demon could kill him here.

If anything, fighting his battles for him could hinder his growth in the future.

It doesn’t take long to check the nearby buildings, if only because there’s not much to find. He doesn’t come across any more demons, but he finds more corpses than he cares to think about, and he’s glad to be alone, so he can take a moment to remind himself that as real as the bodies look, this is technically a manga.

Just like Sabito and Makomo, everyone in this village was just a character.

He’s glad that demons disintegrate quickly.

---

Giyū opens the door to a relatively intact looking house.

Unlike many of the nearby buildings, he’s not immediately assaulted by the smell of rotting flesh. He keeps a hand on the hilt of his katana, but as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he doesn’t spot any demons. There don’t seem to be any corpses either, and slowly Giyū relaxes, the tension draining out of his posture.

He looks back at Sabito and Makomo and says, “We’ll stay here tonight.” He takes a step forward, but then glances back to add, “Makomo.”

“Yes, Tomioka-sensei?” Makomo replies.

“Check the other houses for unspoiled food,” he says. They’d gone over every corner of the village and hadn’t been able to find any more demons, so it should be relatively safe. He pauses, and then continues with, “Take my crow with you.”

“Understood,” Makomo says, inclining her head slightly. Giyū’s crow gives him a caw of acknowledgement too, swooping down to follow after Makomo as she turns towards one of the nearby buildings.

Giyū slips off his shoes and heads further into the house.

Behind him, Sabito hesitates, but then follows.

There’s still a neat pile of wood by the hearth, so Giyū busies himself with starting a fire. Thankfully he has flint in his travel pack, and it’s not long before the room is illuminated by a soft orangey glow, the fire crackling as it quickly consumes the kindling.

Giyū looks up from the fire and over at Sabito, who’s rummaging around in the abandoned kitchen for cooking utensils.

“Sabito,” Giyū says, getting Sabito’s attention. “Come here.”

Sabito does as he’s told.

Giyū motions for Sabito to sit down, but Sabito defaults to kneeling. His posture is stiff, a little wary, almost, as Giyū sifts through his bag, eventually coming up with a small jar of salve and a roll of bandages.

“Give me your arm,” Giyū instructs.

Sabito blinks at him.

“You’re bleeding,” Giyū adds, which seems to break Sabito out of his trance. He holds his arm out, and Giyū pushes up the sleeve of his haori, revealing a long gash. Sabito’s forearm is smeared with half-dried blood, and Giyū studies it for a moment, frowning slightly, before getting up to head towards the kitchen area.

It takes a bit of searching, but eventually he finds a container of clean looking water and a cloth. He takes them back over to Sabito and then dips the cloth into the water, soaking it and then pressing it to Sabito’s wound to wipe away the blood.

“You didn’t interfere when I was fighting that demon.”

Giyū looks up to meet Sabito’s eyes.

“I didn’t,” Giyū confirms. He feels his forehead crease, the corners of his mouth tugging down into a frown.

Sabito hesitates, but then says, “You intervened for Makomo.”

Giyū blinks at Sabito slowly, processing the statement.

“I knew you would win,” Giyū says simply, looking back down at Sabito’s arm. He sets aside the bloodied cloth in his hand and picks up the jar of salve next, removing the top and smearing some on his fingers.

“How could you know that?” Sabito blurts out. The question catches Giyū off guard, and when he glances up at Sabito again, he finds that Sabito looks just as surprised by his own outburst, his face flushed a little pink.

Sabito doesn’t try to take back the question, though. Instead, he squares his shoulders and smooths out his expression, clearly bracing himself for Giyū’s reply.

It makes something in Giyū chest feel a little warm.

So far, since finding himself in this world, Sabito’s been careful around him. Having read the manga, Giyū knows that it’s not in Sabito’s nature to be deferential to people who he doesn’t feel deserve it, and every day under the original Tomioka had been a struggle between his obligation to Tomioka as his teacher, and his distaste for Tomioka as a person.

For the first time, it feels like Sabito’s said what he’s actually thinking.

Giyū considers how to reply.

“You’re strong,” he finally says. It’s a true enough answer.

“And Makomo isn’t?” Sabito demands, his mouth slanting down into a scowl.

“Even if you lose, you won’t die,” Giyū replies, starting to apply the salve to Sabito’s arm. Sabito doesn’t so much as flinch as Giyū presses his fingers up against the wound. “Makomo is different.”

Sabito goes quiet for a long moment. Silence has never bothered Giyū, though, so he simply occupies himself with treating Sabito’s wound. He finishes applying the salve and then then takes out the bandages, wrapping them firmly around Sabito’s arm until the wound is fully covered, and the only evidence left is the blood on Giyū’s fingertips.

When Giyū looks up, he finds Sabito studying him.

Sabito hesitates, then says, “I lose to Makomo half the time we spar.”

Giyū blinks at Sabito.

“I know,” he replies.

Sabito and Makomo had been fairly evenly matched in the manga. Or, at least, they had been, until Makomo became a demon and their romantic subplot had started, and it was suddenly plot-relevant for Sabito to be able to nearly kill Makomo and then have an internal crisis about it.

Giyū can’t exactly explain to Sabito that he’s the main character of this world and therefore can’t die, though.

Giyū finally settles on saying, “You’re stronger than you think.”

He picks up the cloth he’d used to clean Sabito’s arm again and reaches up to wipe the blood off Sabito’s cheek. Sabito nearly falls backwards in his attempt to avoid it.

“I can do it!” Sabito says quickly, taking the cloth from Giyū. His face has turned a little red, and Giyū frowns as he wonders what it could mean. Sabito recomposes himself and adds, “Please don’t concern yourself with me.”

Wasn’t that what Sabito was upset about, though?

Briefly, Giyū wishes that he could reread the manga again. Maybe that would make Sabito easier to understand.

But hopefully from here on out, Sabito will start saying more of what he’s actually thinking.

---

They spend the next day burying the villagers’ bodies.

Giyū goes through the process in a numb sort of trance. He does his best to detach himself from the slow process of gravedigging, but he still has to sneak off a few times to empty the contents of his stomach, dizzy with the stench of blood and decay. It’s sobering to see what had happened to the villagers, but judging by the state of the bodies, they’d probably been dead since before the mission had even been issued.

This is just a manga, Giyū reminds himself.

At least he’d been able to confirm that he can hold his own against low-level demons without much difficulty. In some ways it’s easier than training, actually, because he doesn’t have the time to overthink things and throw off his concentration. All he has to do is cut down the demon in front of him.

They leave as soon as they finish burying the last body. It’s already dusk, but Giyū doubts he’ll be able to sleep now, and he’d rather not spend another moment in this village if he has the choice.

Then again, the long walk home without much other than his own thoughts to occupy him isn’t much better.

“Tomioka-sensei,” Sabito says. Giyū looks away from the darkened path in front of them, and then follows Sabito’s gaze up towards the treetops.

A moment later, a crow swoops down towards them.

It’s not Giyū’s crow. It looks considerably younger, and doesn’t teeter when it flies, and its voice is loud and piercing as it says, “REQUESTING AID FROM THE WATER PILLAR.”

Giyū pauses, then asks, “Where?”

It doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes to reach the scene of the carnage. The scent of blood hits Giyū before he’s able to register anything else, and when he finally takes in the scene before him, his blood runs cold.

This part had never actually been shown in the manga, but he knows what it is.

Shinazugawa Sanemi is on his knees in the middle of the clearing. It’s hard to see in the dark, but the metallic scent alone is enough to tell Giyū how badly Shinazugawa is bleeding, and if it weren’t for the ragged, harsh sound of his breathing, Giyū would think he was dead.

There’s a demon standing in front of Shinazugawa. The demon reaches out a hand to grip Shinazugawa’s jaw, dragging him upright. Shinazugawa claws at the demon’s hand, his sword lost somewhere in the grass, but the resistance doesn’t accomplish much, and the demon snorts in disdain.

In the moonlight, Giyū makes out the characters for “upper” and “three” reflected in the demon’s eyes.

“Stay back,” Giyū orders, but he doesn’t look to see if Sabito and Makomo obey.

Instead, he draws his katana and lunges forward.

Of the many terrible things the original Tomioka had done, one of the worst had been leaving Shinazugawa Sanemi, the Wind Pillar, to die.

It had easily made Tomioka the most hated character in the series when the chapter revealing what he’d done had come out. Shinazugawa hadn’t been the most popular character in Sword of Destruction, but he’d appeared enough in the earlier chapters to gain a small but dedicated fanbase, and with the introduction of his younger brother into the main cast, many people had hoped the author was planning a good arc for him.

Instead, he’d been killed offscreen, and it wasn’t until nearly a hundred chapters later that it was revealed that Tomioka had been at least partially responsible.

Tomioka was a coward and a fraud, and wasn’t worthy of his title. So when he’d come across Shinazugawa fighting an Upper Moon, he’d turned tail and fled, and hadn’t breathed a word of it to anyone.

Giyū’s katana slices through the demon’s – Azama’s – arm.

Azama blinks at the stump where his hand previously was, looking a little caught off guard. He doesn’t seem terribly concerned by the development, though, just looks on coolly as Giyū positions himself in front of Shinazugawa, katana held at the ready.

It takes barely the blink of an eye for Azama’s arm to regenerate.

Azama cocks his head and asks, “What’s your rank?”

Giyū ignores the question.

“Why,” Shinazugawa says as he struggles to push himself upright, “the fuck are you here?”

“Your crow found me,” Giyū answers. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Azama.

Shinazugawa mutters something under his breath, but Giyū doesn’t catch more than the words, “useless chicken.” He’s not entirely sure if Shinazugawa is referring to the crow, or to him.

Giyū adjusts his grip, and then lunges at Azama.

Azama dodges the blow easily. He’s much faster than the demons Giyū had fought the other day, and even though Giyū had been prepared for that, it’s clear that he’d underestimated just how big the difference would be. Azama’s fist hits him squarely in the stomach, and Giyū can’t suppress the pained noise he makes as he flies backwards, tumbling against the grass.

A single inhale is enough to tell him that a few of his ribs are broken, and he can only hope that the internal bleeding is minimal. At least he’d been able to keep ahold of his sword, and he tightens his grip on it as he pushes himself upright.

They have less than half an hour until dawn.

That’s Giyū’s estimate, at least. The sky is already starting to fate from black to a deep purple, and Giyū’s heart pounds fast as he tries to recalculate how long he’ll be able to make the fight last.

After all, he’s not a real Pillar, so he doesn’t need to kill Azama. He just needs to keep himself and Shinazugawa alive until dawn.

That goal had seemed a lot more feasible a minute ago.

Azama’s gaze strays to Shinazugawa, and Giyū drags himself to his feet again. Thankfully it’s enough to attract Azama’s attention, and Giyū tightens his grip on his sword as he lunges at Azama, trying to recall the Breath of Water techniques he’s spent the last week practicing. It’s hard to steady his breathing with the pain of his broken ribs, but he can feel himself taking in oxygen, and his blade bites into the flesh of Azama’s arm as Azama brings it up to block the attack.

Instead of counterattacking, though, Azama just studies him for a moment, bright, glowing eyes intent in a way that makes Giyū’s skin prickle.

“You don’t have much killing intent,” Azama says. His blood drips down the blade of Giyū’s katana, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

Giyū pulls his katana out of Azama’s arm and plunges it into Azama’s chest.

Azama blinks at him.

“See, it’s hard to tell what you’re going to aim for,” Azama continues, reaching down to grip the blade of Giyū’s katana. “Your level of killing intent doesn’t match your attacks.”

The pressure of Azama’s grip increases, and Giyū quickly jumps back, wrenching his katana out of Azama’s chest. Thankfully there don’t seem to be any cracks in the blade, and he readjusts his stance, bracing himself for Azama’s next move.

Instead of attacking, though, Azama ducks.

A sword swipes through the air where his neck was a second before, and he turns around to swing a fist at his attacker.

His fist hits Sabito squarely in the face.

Giyū moves before he even realizes what he’s doing. His attack isn’t sloppy, though, and the tip of his blade manages to graze Azama’s neck, slicing open the skin and making blood spill down the column of Azama’s throat. Azama’s reaction is just as quick, though, and Giyū just barely manages to avoid a powerful kick. The shockwaves alone are enough to make him stumble slightly, but he still has the wherewithal to block Azama’s next attack, Azama’s fist slamming so hard against his katana that for a moment, Giyū worries that it’s going to break.

Out of the corner of his eye, Giyū sees Sabito push himself to his feet, and pick up his sword.

The second of distraction costs him, and Azama’s next kick hits its mark.

Giyū’s legs are swept out from under him and he hits the ground hard. He feels blood force itself up his throat as his ribs are jostled, and he lets out a hacking cough, dark liquid paining his lips and the ground in front of him.

He uses his forearms to push himself upward, trying to get his feet back under him, but pain shoots up his legs and he has to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. His left leg is definitely broken, but he manages to force himself upright anyway, and he pushes through his lightheadedness, willing his vision to focus.

Sabito swings his katana at Azama.

Azama stops it with one hand.

The blade digs into Azama’s palm, but Giyū can’t see well enough to tell if it even draws blood, and Azama’s expression relaxes into boredom as he bats Sabito’s katana away. For a moment, Giyū finds himself wondering if maybe Sabito can die, because even if he’s the protagonist of Sword of Destruction, Azama was one of the most powerful demons in the series, and this isn’t –

It’s not really a manga. Not anymore.

Azama swings his fist at Sabito, and Giyū tries to yell a warning, but he can’t get anything out around the blood in his throat.

Before Azama can make contact, his arm is sliced cleanly off his shoulder.

Azama blinks, and then says, “I guess I forgot to kill you, huh?”

“How about you stop talking and actually try?” Shinazugawa retorts, as he positions himself in front of Sabito. He’s still covered in blood, but the worst of his wounds seem to have been hastily bandaged, and Giyū’s eyes catch on Makomo, standing a step behind Shinazugawa. Her hands are red with blood, and there’s more smeared on her cheek and forehead, but the blood doesn’t seem to be her own.

Maybe Shinazugawa won’t die this time around.

Azama opens his mouth to retort, but then he snaps to attention, looking at something behind Shinazugawa. He clicks his tongue, and says, “You can look forward to that next time.”

“Hah?” Shinazugawa retorts, his face contorting with anger, but instead of replying, Azama turns tail and runs.

A moment later, the first ray of sunlight streams over the horizon.

“You fucking coward!” Shinazugawa yells after Azama. He takes a step forward to pursue, but he stumbles, and Makomo reaches out to catch him, holding him upright. Azama doesn’t so much as glance backwards, though, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

It’s over.

The realization comes suddenly, as Giyū watches the sky turn a shade of reddish pink. Vaguely, he’s aware of Shinazugawa spitting curses, struggling as Makomo attempts to hold him still, and the last of the tension finally drains out of Giyū’s body, no more energy left to sustain it.

He passes out.

Chapter Text

The first thing Giyū sees when he comes to is Sabito.

Sabito’s slumped in an uncomfortable-looking chair, his eyes pressed shut and his chest rising with slow, steady breaths. Makomo’s in the chair next to him, fast asleep too, and the way they’re leaning against each other makes it hard to tell which is supporting the other’s weight. It doesn’t look like a terribly stable position.

The next thing Giyū realizes is that he’s in a bed. A quick glance around the room finds that he seems to be in an infirmary of some sort, and the layout seems familiar enough that Giyū decides that he’s probably in the Butterfly Estate.

Carefully, Giyū tries to push himself upright.

As soon as he does, though, pain shoots through his chest, and he can’t quite bite back the sharp sound that escapes his throat.

It’s more than enough to wake Sabito and Makomo, and they jolt to attention.

“Tomioka-sensei!” Sabito says, jumping up from his chair and reaching out to steady Giyū. His hand is warm against Giyū’s shoulder, and it helps distract Giyū a little from the pain in his ribs.

“I’ll get Kochō-san,” Makomo announces, and she’s out of the room almost before Giyū can process what she’d said.

“You should lie down,” Sabito says, his mouth pressed into a tight line.

“I’m fine,” Giyū replies, although his voice comes out a little strained.

“You have five broken ribs,” Sabito huffs. His mouth has twisted into a scowl now, and his grip on Giyū’s shoulder tightens a little, before he seems to remember himself and relaxes it again. “And Kochō-san said you had a lot of internal bleeding.”

Five ribs out of twenty-four actually isn’t that bad, Giyū thinks. On the contrary, it’s a little embarrassing to have passed out over something like this, when Shinazugawa had been so covered in blood it was probably a miracle he had enough left to pump through his heart.

Something occurs to Giyū.

“Shinazugawa?” he asks.

“He’s over there,” Sabito says, and Giyū follows Sabito’s gaze to the bed next to him. Sure enough, he can just make out a figure under the bedsheets, although there’s enough bandages covering Shinazugawa’s face that it’s hard to identify him under them. “He hasn’t woken up yet, but Kochō-san said that he should recover.”

Giyū’s quiet for a moment, observing Shinazugawa. His skin is a little pallid, and judging by the amount of bandages he’s swathed in, he’ll probably have some new scars, but his chest is rising and falling with steady breaths.

Shinazugawa isn’t dead.

“I see,” Giyū says. He looks back at Sabito, and then frowns. “Your face…”

“It’s fine,” Sabito says quickly, but the deep purple bruise spreading over his cheek and the bandage wrapped around his chin seems to suggest otherwise. “It’s just a minor fracture. It should heal on its own.”

“Fracture?” Giyū asks, his forehead creasing.

“My jaw,” Sabito answers, his face flushing a little red.

Ah, Azama had punched him, hadn’t he?

It’s actually something of a miracle that Sabito escaped with just a bruise and a mild fracture, now that Giyū thinks about it. At least that supports the idea that, as the protagonist, Sabito’s a lot sturdier than the other characters in this world.

Before Giyū can ask any more questions, though, Makomo comes back into the room with Shinobu a step behind her. Sabito moves aside to let Shinobu next to Giyū’s bed, but he still hovers nearby, his expression tense as he waits for Shinobu’s diagnosis.

“Well,” Shinobu says, with a smile. “Congratulations on surviving.”

Giyū blinks at her.

“You two,” Shinobu continues, motioning to Sabito and Makomo. “Fetch me some water, and tell the kitchens to start preparing something easy on the stomach.”

Neither Sabito or Makomo look particularly happy about being dismissed from the room, but they both reply with a soft, “Understood,” and then head for the door.

“You have five broken ribs,” Shinobu announces, once Sabito and Makomo have left the room. “You also had a considerable amount of internal bleeding, and your right tibia and fibula are fractured too. I realigned them while you were passed out.”

That was probably lucky, Giyū decides. He doesn’t particularly want to find out what passes for Taisho era anesthetic.

“Which means that it’ll take at least a month, if not two, for you to fully heal,” Shinobu concludes. “Depending on how well you behave, I’ll allow you to finish your recovery at the Water Pillar Estate, but for now, you’ll have to stay here. Any questions?”

“No,” Giyū answers.

“Good,” Shinobu replies, smiling mildly. She picks up a clipboard and pen from the table next to Giyū’s bed, and then asks, “Now, how are you feeling?”

Giyū considers it, and then says, “My chest hurts.”

“Could you indicate where?” Shinobu asks, writing something down on the clipboard. It’s angled so that Giyū can’t make out what she’s writing.

It doesn’t actually take that long for Shinobu to examine him. She prods at his ribs and asks him a few more questions, but apparently none of his symptoms are out of the ordinary considering his injuries. The bruises on his chest are rather impressive, though, and Giyū’s glad that they’re somewhere he can hide under his shirt, instead of being exposed like the bruise on Sabito’s cheek.

He’s not exactly looking forward to a month or two of recovery, either. But then again, he supposes it won’t make that much of a difference, considering most of what he’s been doing up until now is read and watch Sabito and Makomo train. It’s unfortunate he won’t be able to take them on any more missions for the time being, though. Maybe he can ask another Pillar to let them tag along?

It occurs to Giyū that the only other Pillars he knows so far are in this room. And Shinazugawa isn’t in any state to be going on missions.

“Shinazugawa – ” Giyū starts, then cuts himself off. He hesitates, then asks, “How is he?”

Shinobu blinks at him, looking caught off guard.

“He’ll recover,” she finally says. “Why are you asking?”

Now it’s Giyū’s turn to blink at her.

“I was concerned,” he says simply.

“I would ask you if you hit your head while fighting that demon, but I think I’d be able to find at least a bruise if that were the case,” Shinobu says, studying Giyū in a way that makes his skin prickle. “You know, a few days ago, if someone asked me what I thought you’d do if you came across Shinazugawa-san fighting an Upper Moon, I would have said you’d leave him to die.”

It seems like she knew the original Tomioka fairly well, Giyū thinks. Then again, from what he remembers of the manga, Shinazugawa hadn’t liked Tomioka very much, and Tomioka had definitely been the type to hold a grudge.

“It was almost sunrise,” Giyū finally replies.

To be entirely honest, he’s not sure what he would have done if he hadn’t been able to rely on the sunrise to cut the battle short. Even before actually fighting an Upper Moon, he’d known that the likelihood of him being able to defeat one was almost nonexistent, but –

But he hadn’t wanted to see anyone else die. Not after a whole day of burying bodies.

“Well,” Shinobu says, breaking Giyū from his thoughts, “twenty minutes is still more than I thought you’d last against an Upper Moon.” She smiles, and adds, “Let’s try for half an hour next time!”

Giyū blinks at her.

“I’m sure Oyakata-sama will start approving more difficult missions for you now,” Shinobu adds, and Giyū’s not entirely sure if her smile is encouraging or… ominous.

Maybe it’s good that he won’t have any missions for at least another month.

---

It’s not until Shinobu has left that Giyū finally has a moment to think about what happened.

Shinazugawa isn’t dead.

It feels different, somehow, from the other things he’s done so far. Up until now, he hadn’t given much thought to what sort of effect he’s having on the original plot of the manga. After all, most of what he’s been doing is to hide the fact that he’s not the real Tomioka Giyū, and while actually letting Sabito train may be more significant, Sabito had been practicing by himself in secret anyway, so one book and a few tips shouldn’t drastically change anything.

If anything, all that’s changed is that Sabito seems to like him a little now. Or at least not completely despise him. And even that won’t change anything important in the end, because he still has to put that demon on Fujikasane Mountain, and Sabito would never forgive someone for trying to kill Makomo.

Something in Giyū’s chest feels a little too tight. He ignores it, and instead looks over at Shinazugawa, lying still in the hospital bed.

Was it really alright to make a change this big?

User Code: “Can I change the plot?” activated! a cheery voice exclaims, and Giyū startles. It jostles his ribs, and he curls in on himself, clutching at his chest. The system pays it no mind, thought, instead continuing on with, Each user is free to modify their afterlife experience to suit their preferences.

It takes Giyū a moment to register what the system just said.

“You said I had to put a demon on Fujikasane Mountain,” Giyū points out, his forehead creasing.

The system goes quiet for a moment, as if processing the question.

Your dying wish was to know how Sword of Destruction character Sabito’s story ended, the system says. Its tone sounds far too cheery to be talking about dying wishes. An analysis of Sword of Destruction determined that this was the most significant thing Sword of Destruction character Tomioka Giyū did to advance the story plot. Therefore, if you would like to fulfill your dying wish, you must complete this mission goal.

Giyū supposes that makes sense.

However, if you have decided you would no longer like to fulfill your dying wish, you are free to ignore this mission! the system continues cheerily. Your afterlife experience will be terminated accordingly.

The word “terminated” does not sound any more appealing now than it had the last time the system had mentioned it.

At least this does seem to confirm that this isn’t the actual manga, though. Presumably it’ll follow the general plot of Sword of Destruction if he lets it, but as long as he makes at least a bit of an effort to advance the story, it won’t matter how much he changes.

Maybe if he gets Sabito to like him enough, Sabito will just leave the Demon Slaying Corps instead of killing him, after the Final Selection.

The sound of the door sliding open breaks Giyū from his thoughts.

Sabito and Makomo enter the room a moment later, Sabito carrying a tray of food and Makomo a pitcher of water. They make their way over to Giyū’s bedside, and Giyū shifts himself into the most comfortable sitting position he can manage, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore how his ribs protest the movement.

“Tomioka-sensei!” Sabito says, quickly putting the tray down on the bedside table, and reaching out to rearrange the pillows to prop Giyū up better. “You shouldn’t be moving around so much.”

“I’m fine,” Giyū replies.

Sabito’s scowl deepens.

“Kochō-san said it could misalign your ribs,” Makomo points out, putting the water pitcher down next to the tray of food, and then pouring out a glass. “There’s even a risk of one of your broken ribs puncturing your lungs, if you displace it too much.”

She looks at Giyū with big, concerned eyes, and Giyū can’t help but feel a little guilty. He accepts the glass of water from her, and decides not to argue.

He drinks about half the glass before handing it back to Makomo. As soon as he does, though, Sabito sets the tray of food down on his lap next, and Makomo refills the water glass, placing it with the other dishes on the tray.

Then, the two of them make themselves comfortable in the chairs next to the bed.

Giyū picks up his spoon, and the two of them watch him expectantly.

After a few bites of rice porridge, Giyū says, “I told the two of you to stay back.”

Neither Sabito nor Makomo have the decency to look sheepish.

“We apologize for our insubordination,” Sabito replies. He doesn’t look particularly apologetic. “And we will accept whatever punishment you see fit.”

“This isn’t about punishment,” Giyū says, the words coming out a little harsher than he’d intended. “You could have died.”

“We know,” Makomo says, but although her voice is soft, she doesn’t sound any more apologetic than Sabito does.

“We wouldn’t be trying to slay demons if we were worried about dying,” Sabito adds. There’s a stubborn set to his jaw, and although Giyū normally finds Sabito’s self-righteous determination admirable, it’s not particularly pleasant to be on this end of it.

For a moment, Giyū hesitates, but then he says, “There’s a difference between risking your life and throwing it away.”

The statement doesn’t make Sabito or Makomo look any more remorseful.

“I interfered because it was almost sunrise,” Giyū explains. It’s maybe not something he should admit, but by this point in the manga, Sabito and Makomo had already known that the original Tomioka was a coward, so it shouldn’t effect their opinion of him too much.

“So you wouldn’t have saved Shinazugawa-san if the situation was different?” Makomo asks, watching Giyū with an expression that he can’t quite interpret.

Giyū considers how to reply.

This conversation isn’t about him, really. Although he’s not really Sabito and Makomo’s teacher, it seems that he can still influence this world, at least to a certain extent. And while he doesn’t want either of them to lose their sense of justice, he also doesn’t want them to take unnecessary risks, if there’s a chance they could come across a powerful opponent sooner than they should again.

“You can save more people if you’re alive,” Giyū finally says.

Sabito and Makomo glance at each other, but then incline their heads and reply, “Yes, Tomioka-sensei.”

“We’ll become strong enough so that next time, we’ll be able to help you actually slay an Upper Moon,” Sabito announces, his posture as firm as his voice. “I’ll modify our training regimen and submit it to you for approval tomorrow.”

“I’ll ask Kochō-san for advice on techniques that are effective against larger opponents,” Makomo says, smiling sweetly. “I was thinking about learning how to make wisteria-based poisons too.”

Giyū blinks at the two of them.

This was not exactly what he had in mind.

He supposes it can’t hurt, though.

---

Being hospitalized, Giyū has decided, is boring.

Sabito and Makomo come to visit him regularly, but most of their time is spent training. Their motivation has increased exponentially now that they’ve actually experienced a fight with an Upper Moon, and while Giyū’s glad they’re taking it seriously, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that most of the time they only seem to visit him to ask for training advice.

Kochō also comes in to check up on him at least once a day. It’s only ever to prod at his ribs and ask if he has any new symptoms, though, or, on occasion, to ask how he’s getting along with Shinazugawa.

He’s never quite sure how to reply to that last question.

Giyū glances over at Shinazugawa.

Shinazugawa is busy staring at the infirmary wall, and looks about as bored as Giyū feels.

Giyū hesitates, and then asks, “What’s your favorite food?”

Shinazugawa turns to stare at him like he’s grown a second head.

“What?” Shinazugawa asks.

“What’s your favorite food?” Giyū repeats. It’s maybe not the best conversation starter, but he can’t really ask Shinazugawa how his day is going, considering they’ve spent the entirety of it together.

“Why do you want to know?” Shinazugawa replies, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Some of the bandages on his face have been replaced by wads of gauze now, but it’s still hard to make out anything but his eyes and his mouth.

Giyū pauses, considering the question.

“It seemed like a good thing to ask,” he finally says.

Shinazugawa stares at him again.

“My favorite food is salmon daikon,” Giyū offers. That’s what you’re supposed to do when a conversation lulls, isn’t it? Offer up some information about yourself?

“Why the fuck should I care?” Shinazugawa huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Apparently his arm hasn’t healed enough yet, because he winces, although he does his best not to show it.

“Is there something else you want to talk about?” Giyū asks, trying to be polite. The Sword of Destruction character guidebook had said Shinazugawa was “short tempered,” so he tries not to take Shinazugawa’s hostility personally.

“Why would I have anything to talk about with you?” Shinazugawa retorts.

Giyū blinks at him.

“There’s no one else here,” Giyū points out.

Unless Shinazugawa dislikes talking that much? Giyū’s not very good at small talk himself, but he’s already read all of the books Sabito and Makomo had brought him, and staring at the wall isn’t exactly interesting.

Shinazugawa is still looking at him like he’s not entirely sure this conversation is actually happening.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Shinazugawa asks.

A crease appears between Giyū’s eyebrows.

He supposes the manga did mention that Shinazugawa and the original Tomioka hadn’t gotten along very well, but he hadn’t thought it was to this extent. Granted, Tomioka had left Shinazugawa to die, but Giyū had always assumed that had more to do with him not wanting to fight an Upper Moon than any specific grudge against Shinazugawa.

Apparently that assumption was incorrect.

“I have no intention of competing with you,” Giyū offers. Maybe if he makes it clear that he has no hostility towards Shinazugawa, Shinazugawa will stop looking at him like he’s a viper waiting for its pray to let its guard down.

“Hah?” Shinazugawa replies, his expression going even tenser with irritation. “You think you’ve won just because you saved me once?”

The corners of Giyū’s mouth tug down into a frown. Shouldn’t Shinazugawa be happy that Azama didn’t kill him?

“You would have died,” Giyū points out.

“You little – ” Shinazugawa starts, but he’s cut off by the slam of the door being pushed open.

The largest man Giyū’s ever seen walks into the room, and Giyū can’t help but stare for a moment.

He doesn’t really look like any character Giyū remembers from Sword of Destruction. If anything, he seems like he’d be more at home in a manga like None Piece, with his height and flashy accessories. If he didn’t have such a handsome face, it would all clash quite horribly, Giyū thinks, but somehow even with all of the beads, and the gemstones, and the bright red marking around his eye, he doesn’t look bad.

The man stops a few steps into the room, and examines Giyū and Shinazugawa for a moment. His serious expression is an odd contrast with his appearance, and Giyū has to resist the urge to fidget under his gaze.

Just as Giyū’s wondering if he should say something, the man’s face splits into a grin, and he says, “So you really haven’t killed each other.”

“Shut up, Uzui,” Shinazugawa snaps.

It takes Giyū a moment to process the conversation.

Uzui Tengen is… not quite what Giyū remembers from the manga.

In the manga, Uzui Tengen, the Sound Pillar, had rivaled the original Tomioka in heartlessness. He’d been a morally gray type, who was very good at killing demons, and therefore saved a lot of people, but didn’t particularly care who he sacrificed in the process. There had also been some subplot in one of the later arcs about how he had three wives but didn’t love any of them, which had led to one of them becoming a romantic rival for Makomo, after Sabito had stood up to Uzui about not treating his wives properly.

Giyū hadn’t particularly cared for that arc, but he’d liked Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru well enough, and he’d enjoyed seeing Sabito being honorable and gentlemanly, so he can’t say it was his least favorite arc either.

“Kochō said Tomioka saved you from an Upper Moon,” Uzui says, his grin turning into something closer to a smirk as he looks at Shinazugawa.

“All he did was get kicked around for a few minutes before sunrise,” Shinazugawa huffs. It’s an accurate enough description of what happened, but it still makes Giyū frown. “And the demon was already intoxicated by my blood, so it wasn’t at full strength anyway.”

“It was your crow that called me for help,” Giyū points out.

Shinazugawa glares at him.

“I’m surprised you interfered at all,” Uzui says, looking at Giyū now, and although he’s still smiling, something about it puts Giyū on edge.

“I was nearby,” Giyū says simply. It’s true enough.

Uzui studies him for a long moment, and Giyū wonders if he’s going to press for more answers, but finally Uzui’s expression relaxes, and he says, “Well, I just stopped in to see if the rumors were true.” His smile adjusts into something a little smug, and he adds, “I promised to take Suma out on a date tonight, and she’ll be mad if I’m late.”

With that, he turns to head back towards the door.

He pauses in the doorway, though, and glances back to say, “Oh, and I’m taking over missions for the two of you while you recover, so you’re free to thank me any time. I’m good with any sort of sake.”

He shoots them a wink, and then leaves.

“Who the fuck is going to give you sake?” Shinazugawa mutters under his breath.

Briefly, Giyū wonders if saving Shinazugawa has had more of a ripple effect than he’d thought.

---

Sabito wipes the sweat off his forehead and admires his work.

The dojo floor has been polished to perfection, the hardwood shimmering under the early morning sunlight. It’s been a few weeks since he last did a deep cleaning, and the rag he’d used is gray with dirt, and briefly, he wonders if he should rearrange the estate funds to make a bigger budget for cleaning supplies.

He’s pretty sure Tomioka’s forgotten they have a budget, so he could probably get away with it.

When he’d first come to the Water Pillar Estate, he’d hated cleaning. At least the other chores that Tomioka had foisted on him, like cooking and transcribing mission reports, had required a decent amount of concentration because he wasn’t used to them, but scrubbing the estate floors was mindless.

After being allowed to train again and cutting down on the amount of time he spends on chores, though, he’d found that he actually doesn’t mind cleaning. There’s a certain sense of accomplishment to seeing how much a bit of scrubbing can transform a room, and now that he has fewer negative things to focus on, it can be kind of nice to have some time with his thoughts.

Briefly, he wonders if Tomioka had been trying to teach him patience.

Lately Tomioka’s been trying to get him to stop cleaning so much, though. He’s had to rearrange his schedule to do most of the cleaning in the morning, so that he’s able to get at least a decent amount done before Tomioka finds him and starts lecturing him about how he should be training instead.

Recently he’s been trying to argue that a proper training regimen requires recovery time, and cleaning serves as a good break, but so far he hasn’t been able to convince Tomioka.

Maybe it’s just because Tomioka is… not particularly good at housework. Sabito’s still half convinced that he’d dreamed up the one time he’d found Tomioka trying to do the laundry. He’d had to redo it himself afterwards.

Sabito rings out the cleaning rags and then hangs them up to dry. It takes a few more minutes to put back all the other cleaning supplies, but it’s still not too late in the morning by the time he starts towards the kitchen, to start on breakfast. So far cooking is the one chore Tomioka hasn’t tried to talk him out of, which makes him wonder if Tomioka’s even worse at cooking than he is at laundry.

Sabito’s halfway through preparing ingredients, though, when Tomioka comes into the room.

Sabito blinks at him. Tomioka almost never comes into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Sabito says, a beat too late.

“Good morning,” Tomioka replies. He’s not in his sleepwear, but the light yukata he’s wearing isn’t much better, and Sabito resists the urge to reach out and adjust it.

Not for the first time, he’s very glad that the Demon Slaying Corps uniform is western-style. Although Tomioka can tie a hakama perfectly fine, whenever he wears any other Japanese-style clothes, he never secures them quite right, and they get progressively looser during the day. Never enough to be indecent, but enough to be… distracting.

It also doesn’t help that he’s still clearly unused to his crutches, and every time he moves, the crutches tug at the fabric of his yukata.

“Did you want to request something for breakfast?” Sabito asks, tearing his eyes away from Tomioka and looking back down at the carrot he’s cutting.

“No,” Tomioka answers. He pauses, and then asks, “Do you know how to make ohagi?”

Sabito considers it, and then says, “I haven’t ever tired, but my mother used to make it, so I can probably figure it out. I don’t think it requires many ingredients. Do you want me to make it today?”

“I want you to show me how to make it,” Tomioka replies, and Sabito’s hand nearly slips while cutting the carrot.

“You want to make it yourself?” Sabito blurts out, before he can stop himself.

“Shinazugawa likes ohagi,” Tomioka explains.

Sabito stares at him.

Tomioka doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with what he just said. If anything, he looks pleased with himself, and Sabito suddenly regrets saying that he can probably make ohagi. Maybe he can pretend they’ve run out of ingredients.

After all, Shinazugawa is the last person who deserves homemade ohagi from Tomioka.

It had been such a relief when Kochō had finally released Tomioka from the Butterfly Estate, and he no longer had to share a room with Shinazugawa. Sabito had come close to punching Shinazugawa more than once, after he kept picking fights and questioning Tomioka’s motivations for saving him.

Even if Tomioka has a reputation for being weak and cowardly, Sabito doesn’t know how Shinazugawa could still believe any of that. If anything, Shinazugawa should be grateful that Tomioka seems entirely uninterested in the life debt Shinazugawa now owes him.

“You don’t need to make anything for him,” Sabito says, before he can think better of it.

Tomioka blinks at him.

“Gifts are an important sign of goodwill,” Tomioka replies. He recites it like it’s something someone else had told him.

“You’ve already shown him enough good will by saving his life,” Sabito huffs. Vaguely, he’s aware that he probably shouldn’t be speaking to his teacher like this, but he’s too annoyed by the thought of Tomioka giving Shinazugawa gifts to care at the moment. “If anything, he should be the one giving you gifts.”

“I only did what anyone else would have done,” Tomioka says, shifting his weight on his crutches slightly. “You and Makomo helped too.”

Sabito had mostly been trying to save Tomioka, and he’s fairly sure the same is true for Makomo, but he doesn’t say that aloud.

Sabito sighs internally, but says, “We can make ohagi in the afternoon. Please rest until then.”

Tomioka smiles, ever so slightly, and Sabito feels his heart skip a beat.

“I’ll be in the garden,” Tomioka replies, and then turns to leave.

It’s not until Tomioka’s far enough down the hallway that Sabito finally lets out a real sigh. As much as it irritates him that Shinazugawa treats Tomioka the way he does, part of him hopes that it stays that way. He doesn’t particularly want anyone else to realize that Tomioka isn’t half as cold as he comes off as. Once you realize that, it’s easy to tell that nothing Tomioka says has any malice behind it, no matter how it might sound in the moment.

Tomioka’s just bad at communicating with people, and equally as oblivious. If they’re not careful enough, someone could take advantage of that.

It’s midafternoon by the time Sabito’s prepared everything to make ohagi. He’s not sure he trusts Tomioka with an open flame, so he’s already prepared the rice cake and azuki paste by the time he calls Tomioka back into the kitchen.

Makomo tags along behind Tomioka, and Sabito’s glad he prepared more ingredients than he thought they’d probably need. Makomo can fit more sweets in her stomach than should be physically possible.

“It’s been so long since I last had ohagi,” Makomo says, smiling. She and Tomioka sit down in front of the low table, and she helps Tomioka find a comfortable position in one of the zaisu, carefully arranging his broken leg.

“We’re not making them for ourselves,” Sabito points out, putting a bowl of glutinous rice and a bowl of azuki paste down on the table.

“I only need a few for Shinazugawa,” Tomioka says, and Makomo beams at him.

It’s hard to believe that this Tomioka and the one who was drilling them in training the other day are the same person. Sometimes, Sabito feels more exhausted after training now than he used to when he was spending all day doing chores, and then half the night practicing on his own. It might be good that Tomioka isn’t actually trying to train them, if this is what it’s like to have him just give some advice.

“Ohagi is fairly easy to make,” Sabito says, once Tomioka and Makomo have settled in. He puts a bit of saltwater on his hand, and then scoops a clump of glutinous rice out of the bowl, cupping it in his palm. “You just have to make the rice into a ball and then coat it in azuki paste.”

He demonstrates, forming the rice into a neat ball and then covering it with a thick layer of azuki paste. It’s a messy process, but simple enough, and he watches on as Tomioka and Makomo each take a handful of glutinous rice.

Makomo takes more time to form her ohagi than Sabito had, but it turns out neat and round. The azuki layer is a perfect density, too, and it actually makes Sabito’s look a little lumpy in comparison, when lined up next to it.

Tomioka’s, on the other hand, is a bit of a mess.

It looks like ohagi, Sabito supposes, if he’s being generous. Despite the salt water, the rice keeps sticking to Tomioka’s palm, and the ball he ends up forming is a bit too misshapen to be called a sphere. His layer of azuki paste isn’t much better, too thin in some places and too thick in others, but Tomioka doesn’t seem to mind as he sets it down next to Sabito’s and Makomo’s ohagi.

He reaches for more glutinous rice, and Sabito decides not to stop him. If Shinazugawa is going to get ohagi from Tomioka, at least he’s not going to get nice-looking ones.

“We should taste test one,” Makomo says, breaking Sabito from his thoughts. “Before we make too many.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust my cooking?” Sabito asks, giving Makomo a look. It’s very transparent that she just wants to eat ohagi.

“We need to make sure we’re getting the balance of rice and azuki right, though,” Makomo replies.

“We can split one,” Tomioka agrees.

Sabito sighs, and picks up a chopstick. He uses the chopstick to split Makomo’s ohagi into three, relatively even pieces, and then watches as Makomo takes the one that’s slightly bigger than the others.

She eats the entire piece in one bite, and Sabito decides that if she chokes, it’s her own fault.

Tomioka eats his own piece at a more appropriate pace. Sabito watches as Tomioka chews slowly, his expression unreadable as he examines the flavor and texture of the ohagi. It’s not often that Sabito actually watches Tomioka eat the food he prepares, and he finds himself uncommonly nervous as he awaits Tomioka’s judgement.

Tomioka swallows, and then says, “It’s good.”

He smiles, ever so slightly, and Sabito feels his face heat.

Maybe he can get Tomioka to eat all of the ohagi himself, instead of giving it to Shinazugawa.

---

Giyū’s sitting in the courtyard, reading a book, when Sabito comes up to him.

“Shinazugawa-san is here,” Sabito says. He doesn’t look particularly happy about it.

Giyū blinks at him. He doesn’t remember inviting Shinazugawa over.

“Should I tell him to leave?” Sabito asks.

“No,” Giyū replies, closing his book and setting it aside. He no longer needs crutches, and Shinobu had declared his leg fully healed the day before, but it still feels a little strange to put weight on it, so he’s slow as he pushes himself to his feet. “Did he say what he came for?”

“He didn’t,” Sabito answers, his mouth pressed into a tight line. For some reason, Sabito doesn’t seem to like Shinazugawa very much, although Giyū isn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it’s another side effect of interfering with the plot.

Sabito leads him down the hall to the entryway. Shinazugawa hasn’t even taken his shoes off yet, standing by the door looking impatient, and Giyū wonders if Sabito purposefully hadn’t invited Shinazugawa in, or if Shinazugawa had refused. Knowing the two of them, it could be either one.

“Shinazugawa,” Giyū says in greeting.

“Here,” Shinazugawa replies, thrusting something towards Giyū.

Giyū blinks at the package, but accepts it. It looks expensive, with its crimson wrapping paper, decorated with delicate golden designs. 

“It’s castella,” Shinazugawa explains, a little stiffly.

“Thank you,” Giyū replies. He’s not entirely sure what he did to deserve this sort of present, but it seems rude, somehow, to ask about it.

His response seems to satisfy Shinazugawa, and for a moment, Giyū thinks that he’s going to leave, now that his business is finished, but instead Shinazugawa says, “Spar with me.”

Giyū blinks at him.

“No,” Giyū says.

“Why not?” Shinazugawa asks, the corners of his mouth twisting down into a scowl.

The question catches Giyū a little off guard. To be entirely honest, he doesn’t know why Shinazugawa is asking to spar with him in the first place. He doubts he’s strong enough to keep up with Shinazugawa for more than one round, and it would hardly count as good training, especially when he’s only just recovered from his injuries.

Giyū hesitates, then says, “It would be a waste of time.”

“A waste of time,” Shinazugawa repeats flatly. A vein in his forehead pulses, and idly, Giyū wonders if that’s healthy.

“Tomioka-sensei is very busy,” Sabito adds, making both Giyū and Shinazugawa turn to look at him. He has a stubborn look on his face, as if daring Shinazugawa to say something, and it makes Shinazugawa’s scowl deepen.

“I just don’t think it would make for useful training,” Giyū explains, looking back at Shinazugawa. He appreciates Sabito trying to help, but considering he’s spent the past month and a half doing nothing but reading books and watching Sabito and Makomo train, he’s really not that busy.

For a moment, Shinazugawa looks like he’s going to argue, but instead he goes quiet, studying Giyū carefully. Then, he says, “What do I have to do to get you to fight me?”

Giyū feels his forehead crease. Maybe this is because he’d wounded Shinazugawa’s pride by saving him from an Upper Moon? Although it’s not as if he actually did much. If anything, he doesn’t particularly want to fight Shinazugawa, because that will only make it more apparent how big of a difference in –

Something occurs to Giyū.

“Spar with my students first,” Giyū says, “and then I’ll spar with you.”

Both Sabito and Shinazugawa stare at him.

To be honest, he doesn’t really expect Shinazugawa to accept. If fighting Giyū is a waste of his time, sparring with Sabito and Makomo would be an even bigger one. Eventually they’ll be strong enough to fight with Shinazugawa on equal footing, if things go according to the manga, but right now even Giyū could probably beat them without too much trouble.

“Fine,” Shinazugawa says, eyeing Sabito. “This one and the girl, right?”

“I’ll go find Makomo,” Sabito announces, turning to head back down the hall.

“Are we doing this in the dojo or outside?” Shinazugawa asks, looking at Giyū in a way that makes Giyū wonder if maybe this wasn’t a very good idea. He doubts Shinazugawa will let him back down now, though.

Which, consequently, is how Giyū finds himself kneeling at the edge of the estate dojo and watching as Shinazugawa and Sabito size each other up. They’re both holding wooden swords instead of real katana, because even though Giyū’s fairly sure Shinazugawa can hold back well enough to not maim anyone, he doesn’t particularly want to clean up the blood afterwards.

It’s Shinazugawa who moves first.

He’s faster than Giyū had expected. As a Pillar, it’s not surprising that Shinazugawa is quick on his feet, but now that he’s not half-dead, Shinazugawa’s almost as fast as Azama. Sabito barely has time to react before Shinazugawa’s bokken hits him straight in the stomach, and briefly, Giyū wonders if he should have agreed to spar with Shinazugawa first and then asked him to train Sabito and Makomo.

It looks like Shinazugawa’s trying to end this quickly.

Apparently Sabito had managed to shift himself slightly so that he doesn’t take the full force of the blow, though, and he stays on his feet. Shinazugawa doesn’t give him even a second to recover, though, and Sabito struggles to block the onslaught of attacks, Shinazugawa forcing him back step by step.

“Shinazugawa-san is fast,” Makomo observes, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. Her posture is relaxed, but Giyū doesn’t miss the intent look in her eyes as she watches Sabito try to defend against Shinazugawa.

“Can you follow him?” Giyū asks, looking back at Sabito and Shinazugawa. Sabito dodges a swing, but Shinazugawa’s bokken grazes his ear, and there’s enough force behind it to draw blood.

“I can see most of his movements,” Makomo answers. “But I don’t think I could react in time.”

It’s the answer that Giyū had expected.

“This will be a good opportunity to train your reflexes,” Giyū says. In front of them, Sabito actually manages to go on the offense for a moment, but Shinazugawa blocks his attack, and before Sabito can so much as blink, Shinazugawa kicks his legs out from under him.

It’s the first time Sabito’s hit the floor since the start of the match, which is actually a little impressive. He’s only down for a moment, though, and Giyū hears Shinazugawa click his tongue as Sabito lunges at him again.

“Can’t you stay down for one fucking second?” Shinazugawa snaps as he brings down the butt of his bokken right against the side of Sabito’s neck.

This time it’s actually enough to stun Sabito, and when he drops to the floor, he doesn’t immediately get back up.

“Oi,” Shinazugawa says, looking over at Makomo. “You’re next, right?”

“I’m not – ” Sabito starts, forcing himself to his knees.

“Sabito,” Giyū interrupts. Sabito looks over at him with an expression he can’t quite interpret, something frustrated and maybe a little hurt. “Rest for a moment.”

Sabito clenches his jaw, but does as he’s told. Makomo picks up her bokken and goes over to stand opposite Shinazugawa, and Sabito takes her place next to Giyū, his posture stiff as he kneels.

“Sabito,” Giyū says, and Sabito turns towards him.

Giyū reaches out to push Sabito’s hair aside, revealing the side of his neck, and Sabito startles so much he almost falls over backwards.

“Tomioka-sensei!” Sabito sputters, his face turning red.

Giyū’s forehead creases.

“Where did Shinazugawa hit you?” Giyū asks, drawing back his hand. In the manga, Sabito hadn’t seemed to mind people touching him much, but maybe that was only because it was Makomo doing most of the touching.

Sabito looks a little caught off guard, but he recomposes himself quickly, and reaches up to indicate a spot on the left side of his neck.

“It was around here,” he says. Giyū leans in slightly to inspect the spot, and Sabito’s face goes a little red, but he holds still.

The side of Sabito’s neck is already starting to bruise, and Giyū examines it for a moment, before saying, “Shinazugawa has very good aim.”

It’s hard to stun someone like that without doing any significant damage, but Sabito seems to be perfectly fine, beyond a few bruises. Shinazugawa doesn’t seem like the type who would care whether his sparring partner actually gets injured or not, but maybe he’s more considerate than Giyū was giving him credit for.

“Tomioka-sensei!” Sabito announces, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. “Can you make me a new training regimen?”

Giyū blinks at him.

“Your current one is fine,” Giyū says, and Sabito scowls.

Before Sabito can protest, though, a shout interrupts their conversation, and Giyū finally looks back at Shinazugawa and Makomo. Makomo’s on the floor, but she’s managed to keep ahold of her bokken, and she grits her teeth as she pushes herself to her feet. Shinazugawa’s expression can only be described as annoyance as he looks down at her, and he doesn’t wait for her to straighten up again before attacking again.

Instead of trying to block, Makomo dodges. She tries to retaliate, which is a good instinct, because Shinazugawa hasn’t finished his swing and can’t use his bokken to block, but before she can make contact, Shinazugawa brings his knee up directly into her stomach.

She makes a choked, breathless sound, and struggles to remain on her feet.

The attack has the additional benefit of disrupting her breathing, and Shinazugawa doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of it, bringing his bokken down on her neck in the same way he’d done to Sabito.

She drops to the ground and Shinazugawa turns to Giyū to say, “Tomioka, you’re up.”

Giyū decides that he’ll have to last at least twice as long as Sabito and Makomo, in order to save face.

With that thought, he pushes himself to his feet.

“You better take this seriously,” Shinazugawa warns, brandishing his bokken.

Giyū’s not entirely sure what Shinazugawa means by that, but he clasps his bokken in both hands and readies his stance. It’s been almost two months since he did any real training, but in some ways, this feels more familiar than fighting with a real katana, and whatever tension was remining in his posture vanishes.

Judging by the last two matches, Shinazugawa’s main assets are his speed and his creativity. He’s just barely slower than Azama, though, so Giyū should be able to keep up for the most part. The more difficult part will be anticipating how Shinazugawa is going to move, because although his reflexes are fairly good, with the kind of kendo he’s used to, opponents don’t attack with anything other than their sword.

At least in this battle he won’t have to worry about actually dying.

Once again, it’s Shinazugawa who makes the first move.

It’s harder to follow his movements up close, instead of watching from the sidelines, but as Giyū had expected, he isn’t any faster than Azama. The first blow comes from his right, and Giyū blocks it, but just barely. There’s more force behind Shinazugawa’s swing than he was expecting, though, and it makes Giyū’s hands tingle as he grinds Shinazugawa’s bokken to a stop.

He hears Shinazugawa click his tongue, but Shinazugawa doesn’t waste any time before attacking again, this time with a series of quick blows. Giyū blocks the first two, and then dodges the rest, although the last one catches on the edge of his hakama, tearing a hole near his ribs.

At least it didn’t actually hit its mark. At his last checkup, Shinobu had told him to avoid anything that could reinjure his ribs so soon after they’d finished healing.

… does sparring with Shinazugawa count?

Shinazugawa follows up the last swing of his bokken with a kick, and it catches Giyū off guard enough that he almost doesn’t dodge in time. It still manages to graze Giyū, though, and pain blossoms out over his cheek, followed by the feeling of something dripping down the side of his face.

Shinazugawa’s grin is enough to tell him that he’s bleeding.

Giyū narrows his eyes, and swings his bokken at Shinazugawa.

Shinazugawa blocks, and then counterattacks, but Giyū’s prepared this time, and he only has to move slightly to dodge. After watching Shinazugawa spar with Sabito and Makomo, and then fighting him for the past few minutes, Giyū almost feels as if he’s starting to understand the rhythm of Shinazugawa’s attacks.

Instead of trying to block and dodge with large movements, it’s better to move only as much as he needs to, Giyū decides. He can leave the backflips and dropkicks to Shinazugawa.

Giyū shifts ever so slightly, and Shinazugawa’s bokken passes close enough to his arm that his sleeve flaps in the breeze it makes. Giyū’s already bringing up his bokken to counter attack, before Shinazugawa’s even finished his swing, and he swings it down as hard as he can. Shinazugawa curses under his breath, but manages to bring his own bokken up just in time to –

There’s a loud snap, and something flies past Giyū’s thigh almost before he registers the sound.

He and Shinazugawa come to an abrupt stop.

Giyū’s bokken has snapped. It’s splintered messily, about halfway up the blade, the other half skidding to a slow stop against the dojo floor. Shinazugawa’s sword has cracked too, although it’s still holding itself together, and for a moment, both Shinazugawa and Giyū freeze in place.

Eventually, they relax their stances.

“So,” Shinazugawa says, smiling smugly, “do you still think this is a waste of your time?”

Giyū blinks at him.

“I never said it was a waste of my time,” Giyū replies. It’s a waste of Shinazugawa’s time, not his.

Shinazugawa’s bokken breaks in his ensuing attempt to beat Giyū over the head with it.

---

Sabito can see his own breath in the winter air.

Snow is falling steadily, plump snowflakes clinging to his hair, and he finds himself stealing a glance at Tomioka. If Tomioka is bothered by the cold, though, he doesn’t show it, and it really does make him look as cold as he did when Sabito first came to the Water Pillar Estate.

Tomioka’s geriatric crow swoops down and lands on Tomioka’s shoulder. It shifts around a little, and Tomioka looks over at it, reaching up a hand to brush the snowflakes off its head. The crow caws, which doesn’t mean anything to Sabito, but apparently it means something to Tomioka, because he undoes the top two buttons of his uniform jacket, and then tucks the crow inside.

It looks utterly ridiculous, but the crow seems happy, at least.

“You didn’t have to come along,” Tomioka says, and Sabito realizes he’s been caught staring.

“I promise to keep up and not get in your way,” Sabito replies, snapping to attention. Lately, he’s been trying to tag along on as many of Tomioka’s missions as he can, because if their fight with that Upper Moon has taught him anything, it was that he is woefully lacking in practical experience.

“I’m not worried about that,” Tomioka says. He pauses, and then adds, “You could have gone with Makomo.”

Sabito isn’t quite able to suppress a scowl.

Makomo is currently training with Shinazugawa, which Tomioka had somehow managed to get Shinazugawa to agree too. Sabito assumes it’s because of the whole life debt thing, although lately Shinazugawa’s also been dropping by the estate more frequently, to either demand that Tomioka fight him again, or, oddly enough, give Tomioka sweets.

Thankfully Tomioka’s refused to spar with Shinazugawa since the first time, but he does always accept the sweets. At least none of them are handmade.

“I’d rather gain more experience fighting actual demons,” Sabito says, trying to focus back on the conversation at hand.

“Shinazugawa is stronger than most demons,” Tomioka points out.

Sabito hesitates, but then says, “I know. But I want to help people too.”

Also, the thought of treating Shinazugawa as his teacher, however temporary, makes his skin crawl. As far as he’s concerned, Urokodaki and Tomioka are his only teachers.

The next time he fights Shinazugawa, Sabito has decided, he’ll be strong enough to grind Shinazugawa’s face into the dojo floor.

They walk through the snow for a few more minutes, before Sabito catches sight of a small house. They’re still fairly far out from the nearest village, but the house doesn’t look abandoned, although it’s hard to tell from this distance whether anyone’s home.

As they get closer to the house, though, Tomioka starts to increase his pace. Sabito frowns slightly, but he falls into step with Tomioka, and he’s about to ask what the matter is when he sees it.

There’s blood in the snow.

It doesn’t look like much at first, but then they round the corner to the front of the house, and stop dead in their tracks.

There’s a body in the doorway. The boy has been badly mangled, blood seeping into the surrounding snow, and it’s clear that he’s been dead for at least a few hours. A glance through the open door finds the rest of the house ransacked, and Sabito clenches his jaw as he counts four more bodies, a woman and three more children.

“It’s been less than a day,” Tomioka says, breaking Sabito from his thoughts. “The demon might still be nearby.”

“There are blood and footprints heading south,” Sabito observes, shifting a hand to rest on the hilt of his katana.

“It could be the demon, but it could also be a survivor,” Tomioka says, his expression cool as he examines the tracks. They’re not fresh, but they’re also not old enough to be completely erased by new snow yet, and Sabito clenches his jaw as he wonders what would have happened if they’d arrived even half a day earlier. “I’ll go south. You check the surrounding area.”

“Understood,” Sabito replies, nodding sharply.

Tomioka returns it with a nod of his own, and then follows the trail of footprints and blood into the woods.

Sabito inspects the rest of the house first. The state of the bodies is a little odd, he decides. Everything seems to point to them having been killed by a demon, but very little of them seems to have actually been eaten. He supposes that it could just be that the demon couldn’t eat them all immediately and is planning to return later, but it still seems strange to just leave the bodies lying out in the snow like this.

If the demon is saving the bodies for later, though, that should mean it’s still in the area. With that thought, Sabito leaves the house and heads out into the woods.

Unfortunately, there’s not much to find. The steadily falling snow is already starting to erase his own footprints, and at the rate it’s going, anything from more than a few hours ago is probably already lost. Other than the trail of blood that Tomioka had followed, there’s nothing else to indicate that there was ever anyone else in the area, and the more Sabito tries to find clues, the more every bare tree starts to look the same.

Right as Sabito’s about to give up and head back for the house, though, Tomioka’s crow comes swooping down towards him.

“THE WATER PILLAR HAS ENGAGED WITH A DEMON,” the crow announces, and Sabito stiffens.

It’s barely a second before he snaps back to himself, though, and demands, “Lead me to him.”

Tomioka’s crow flies ahead, leading Sabito back along the trail of blood. Sabito runs as quickly as he can, cold air filling his lungs, and he tries to steady the rapid thumping of his heart.

It actually takes less time than he’d expected before he catches sight of Tomioka, and he almost yells out, “Tomioka-sensei!” before he catches himself. Not for the first time, he wishes he could be as calm and collected as Tomioka, instead of so prone to hot-headedness.

However, when he finally reaches the small clearing, he comes to an abrupt halt.

“Sabito,” Tomioka says. He’s leaning against a tree, looking as unperturbed as ever. “Did you find the demon?”

“I thought – ” Sabito starts, glancing at Tomioka, and then the two people lying in the snow. He recomposes himself and says, “Your crow informed me that you had encountered a demon.”

“She’s not the one who killed that family,” Tomioka replies, nodding to the young girl in the pink kimono.

Sabito blinks at him.

“That girl’s a demon?” he asks, his hand going immediately to his katana. Tomioka makes no move to finish off the girl, though, and Sabito hesitates, frowning as he looks back up at Tomioka.

Tomioka’s quiet, but then he says, “She hasn’t eaten any humans yet.”

Sabito wonders if his hearing is going.

“She protected her brother,” Tomioka continues, choosing his words slowly. “And even though she was starving and injured, she didn’t attack him.”

For a moment, Sabito forgets to breathe.

“Is that why you haven’t beheaded her?” Sabito asks, his voice low.

“Yes,” Tomioka answers simply.

Sabito takes a step towards him, and then another, his pace increasing until he’s lunging at Tomioka. He’s in front of Tomioka almost before he knows it, fisting a hand into Tomioka’s uniform jacket, and he can hardly recognize his own voice as he yells, “She’s a demon!”

“I know,” Tomioka replies. He doesn’t try to break free of Sabito’s grip, even though he could undoubtedly do so easily.

“Just because she hasn’t killed anyone yet doesn’t mean she won’t,” Sabito snaps. He can feel himself trembling with anger, his blood running hot, and Tomioka’s expression shifts slightly, but not in a way that Sabito can interpret.

Tomioka hesitates, then says, “Humans are capable of killing too.”

“Humans don’t have an uncontrollable desire to eat other humans!” Sabito retorts, biting the words out.

“It seems she doesn’t either,” Tomioka replies. “She tried to save her brother from me.”

Sabito feels like he’s been slapped.

After all, if a demon could just decide not to kill, then what does that mean for all of the other demons he’s seen so far? What about that entire village in Chiba that had been wiped out, corpses picked bare? Or the demon that had slaughtered the family in the house nearby?

Could the demon that ate his own family have just chosen not to?

“I’ve heard,” Tomioka says, “that if demons were once human, it might be possible to turn them back.” He hesitates, then adds, “If that were true, would you still kill her?”

He doesn’t say it like an accusation, or a challenge, but as a simple question, and Sabito’s at a loss for how to reply.

Sabito hesitates, then asks, “If she does kill someone, what do you plan to do?”

“Take responsibility,” Tomioka answers simply.

Sabito waits, studying his expression for another few moments, but Tomioka doesn’t offer any explanation of what that would entail. Would he kill the girl? Resign as a Pillar? Kill himself?

Slowly, Sabito releases his grip on Tomioka’s jacket.

Tomioka doesn’t like killing demons, Sabito’s come to realize. Tomioka’s good at it, certainly, and he seems to enjoy kata and training well enough, but he doesn’t take any particular pleasure in fighting. If anything, he looks more at home reading books in the estate courtyard, and not for the first time, Sabito wonders why someone like Tomioka became the Water Pillar.

He’d never really thought that there might be a different way to end this. Demons, that is. Clearly Tomioka’s been thinking about it, though, and it occurs to Sabito that maybe his own intentions weren’t quite what he thought they were.

He wants to save people, of course, so that no one else’s family ends up like his. But maybe part of him had also wanted revenge.

Sabito takes a step back and bows deeply.

“I’m apologize for my insolence,” Sabito says. He can’t see Tomioka’s expression from this angle. “I will accept whatever punishment you see fit.”

“Sabito,” Tomioka says, and Sabito chances a glance upwards. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I acted violently against a superior,” Sabito points out, pressing his mouth into a tight line.

“You did what you thought was right,” Tomioka replies simply. “I only want you to remember that demons were once human.”

For a moment, Sabito hesitates, but then he says, “What do you plan to do with them?”

Tomioka follows his gaze to the demon and the boy, still lying in the snow.

“When they wake up, I’ll send them to Urokodaki,” Tomioka answers. “He should be able to determine if there’s a chance the girl might start attacking humans.” He pauses, then adds, “And he’ll take care of her if she does become a threat.”

“I see,” Sabito replies.

He settles in to wait.

---

Makomo’s training is progressing well, Giyū thinks.

There are only a few months left until her Final Selection, and he hasn’t been able to find any way around putting the Hand Demon on Fujikasane Mountain. At least he knows that the Hand Demon won’t actually kill her, although it’s still hard to tell how Sabito will react if she gets turned into a demon like in the manga.

At least Sabito had seemed somewhat receptive to the idea that demons could be good, after everything with Nezuko and Tanjirō. In the manga, the original Tomioka had killed off both of them, with no regard for the fact that Tanjirō was actually human, which had been yet another strike against his character when everything he’d done had come to light.

Giyū’s not sure he could have done it, though.

Kill Nezuko, that is.

He wasn’t entirely lying when he said he’d heard it might be possible to turn demons back into humans. It was an idea that had come up in one of the later arcs in Sword of Destruction, after Sabito had discovered that Makomo had been turned into a demon. It hadn’t actually happened by the time Giyū had caught up with the serialization, but it makes sense as part of the endgame, especially with Makomo as Sabito’s main love interest.

So far he hasn’t been able to find much information about how to go about turning demons back into humans, but now that Sabito’s aware of it as a concept, hopefully the plot will start falling into place. At the very least, hopefully he and Makomo will spend less time fighting now if she gets turned into a demon.

Giyū doesn’t want to watch them try to kill each other.

Of course, the simplest way to circumvent all of this is to make Makomo strong enough to defeat the Hand Demon and not be turned into a demon in the first place.

Shinazugawa has been unexpectedly helpful on that front. Giyū honestly hadn’t expected Shinazugawa to agree when he’d asked him to help with Makomo’s training, but apparently Shinazugawa’s more cooperative than his general demeanor suggests. Granted, he usually then demands that Giyū “spar” with him afterwards, but Giyū doesn’t really mind getting whacked around for a little bit if it means Makomo is less likely to be turned into a demon. It’s good stress relief for Shinazugawa, he supposes.

Other than Shinazugawa, though, Giyū doesn’t spend much time with any of the other Pillars. Shinobu occasionally drops by the estate to drink tea and give him judging looks that he doesn’t entirely know how to interpret, but those always feel more like subtle interrogations than anything else.

So when a Giyū receives a letter inviting him to the Sound Pillar Estate for dinner, he’s not entirely sure what to make of it.

“Sabito,” Giyū says, as he passes by the kitchen. “I won’t need dinner tonight.”

Sabito looks up from the rice he’s measuring to blink at him.

“I was going to make miso mackerel,” Sabito replies, his forehead creasing.

For a brief moment, Giyū considers staying. Sabito’s mackerel is one of his favorite dishes.

Instead, he says, “I was invited to a dinner at the Sound Pillar Estate.”

“By Uzui-san?” Sabito blurts out, nearly dropping his measuring cup. Giyū nods, and before he can say anything else, Sabito announces, “I’m coming with!”

Giyū blinks at him.

“I would like to come with,” Sabito corrects himself, a little reluctantly. He has that stubborn look in his eyes that says he won’t back down easily, though. “If you would allow me to.”

Giyū pauses, considering it.

Sabito’s probably interested in meeting another Pillar, he supposes. Sabito doesn’t seem to like Shinazugawa very much, but knowing Sabito’s character, he’s probably conflicted about the fact that Makomo’s training under a real Pillar and he isn’t.

Giyū’s not entirely sure Uzui Tengen is the right match for Sabito, but it couldn’t hurt to give it a try.

“I’ll ask,” Giyū says.

Which is how, a few hours later, Giyū finds himself in the main hall of the Sound Pillar Estate, with Sabito on his right and Uzui across the table from him. Uzui has one wife – Makio, Giyū thinks – on his right, and another wife on his left, and the third, Hinatsuru, is next to Sabito.

“Would you like some more tea?” Hinatsuru asks, smiling at Sabito politely as she holds up the teapot.

“Yes, please,” Sabito replies, a little stiffly. It’s been less than an hour since they’d arrived, and Sabito’s face has been turning progressively redder with each minute, despite not partaking in any of the alcohol being served.

“How about you, Tomioka?” Uzui asks, nodding at Giyū’s own cup. “There’s no need to hold back on my account.”

“I’m fine,” Giyū replies. His previous body had had a good enough alcohol tolerance, but he hasn’t done much drinking in this one, and he can already feel the plum wine making his cheeks heat.

“Tomioka-sensei, would you like some water?” Sabito asks, leaning in towards him. “I can go fetch some if you’d like.”

“There’s no need,” Giyū says.

For a moment, he catches Uzui looking at him with an expression he can’t quite interpret, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Tengen-sama,” Makio says, frowning slightly as she looks up at Uzui. “You should drink some water too, or at least eat some more before you have any more sake.”

“Are you worried about me?” Uzui asks with a grin. He reaches out to wrap and arm around Makio’s waist, and she lets out a surprised yelp, her face flushing red as Uzui pulls her in close.

On Uzui’s other side, Suma whines, “Tengen-sama! I worry about your health too!” She presses herself up against Uzui’s side, pouting up at him, and Uzui laughs, shifting to wrap his other arm around her waist as he says, “I know you do.”

Hinatsuru smiles at them fondly from across the table, and Giyū wonders if saving Shinazugawa was really enough to do… all this.

The Uzui Tengen from Sword of Destruction would sooner backhand his wives than let them cling to him like this.

“I suppose I could use some fresh air, though,” Uzui continues, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. Uzui looks over at Giyū, and says, “Tomioka, take a walk with me.”

Giyū blinks at him.

“Alright,” Giyū says, and puts down his cup.

“I’ll come too!” Sabito blurts out, looking at Giyū in a way that would almost seem panicked, if it weren’t Sabito.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Uzui says, as he detangles himself from his wives. They both look disappointed by the development, but reluctantly let go of him. “We’ll be right back.” He grins at Sabito and adds, “And I need someone to entertain Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru.”

Sabito scowls at Uzui.

“Stay here,” Giyū instructs, before Sabito can try to argue more.

Sabito wavers for a moment, but eventually nods, and he doesn’t try to follow as Giyū and Uzui leave the room.

It’s colder outside than Giyū had expected. It makes his flushed cheeks feel even hotter than before in comparison, but it’s a good shock to the system, and he lets the cool air wash over him as he follows Uzui to the garden.

There are a few trees budding, but most of the plants are bare. It’s not much to look at, and for a moment, Giyū wonders why Uzui had brought him out here, but before he can ask, Uzui says, “God, I miss my heater.”

Giyū blinks at him.

“Air conditioning in the summer, too,” Uzui adds. “And microwaves. How about you?”

For a moment, Giyū just stares at him.

“You did die and get sent here, right?” Uzui continues, frowning slightly as he examines Giyū. “Because I definitely didn’t write Tomioka Giyū like this, and even though I’ve changed some things, it shouldn’t be enough to make you actually like your students.”

“I’m from Yamanashi,” Giyū says. Uzui’s last comment finally registers, and he asks, “You wrote Sword of Destruction?”

“I sure did,” Uzui snorts. He says it more like he’s talking to himself than to Giyū. “If I’d known basing a character off my father would make things end up like this, I would have written things a little differently. How’d you end up here?”

Giyū’s not entirely sure what to do with the implication that the original Uzui Tengen, an emotionless demon slayer who hadn’t cared for any of his three wives, is apparently based off the author’s father.

“I fell down the stairs,” Giyū says.

“That’s it?” Uzui asks, looking at Giyū skeptically.

“I was thinking about Sabito when I died,” Giyū explains. He pauses, then adds, “He was my favorite character.”

“And you ended up in Tomioka?” Uzui says, his eyebrows rising. “You don’t have great luck, do you?”

Considering he’s survived this far, Giyū doesn’t think his luck is particularly bad.

“How does having two of us here even work?” Uzui muses, frowning slightly. He looks up towards the sky, and says, “Hey, system! How can there be two of us here?”

For a moment, there’s no response, but then the system’s cheery voice says, Due to the volume of requests involving Sword of Destruction, a minimum of two users have been assigned to each Sword of Destruction afterlife experience.

The afterlife does not work like Giyū had thought it would.

Uzui sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I guess I should apologize for dragging you into this,” Uzui says, and Giyū frowns slightly. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I started writing.”

“It’s fine,” Giyū replies. “I don’t mind it.” He pauses, then adds, “Although I’m concerned about Makomo.”

“Her Final Selection’s coming up, isn’t it?” Uzui says, a considering look on his face.

“I have to put the Hand Demon on Fujikasane Mountain or – ” Giyū hesitates, trying to remember the phrasing. “ – my afterlife experience will be terminated.”

“Even if she does get turned into a demon, I don’t think Sabito would try to kill you for it anymore,” Uzui replies, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his kimono. “You’ve been actually training them this time, haven’t you?”

Giyū nods, and says, “Shinazugawa’s been training her.”

Uzui studies him for a moment. It makes Giyū’s skin prickle, and he resists the urge to fidget.

“You really fucked up my original plot,” Uzui finally says. Before Giyū can figure out how to apologize, though, he continues with, “The Hand Demon is a pretty basic early villain, though. If you’re training her properly, Makomo should probably survive. Did you want my help training her?”

“I was hoping you could train Sabito,” Giyū replies. “He refuses to train with Shinazugawa.”

“I don’t think he wants me training him either,” Uzui snorts, and Giyū’s forehead creases. “But I can offer. We should actually get back before he starts thinking I’ve done something to you, though.”

Done something? Like what?

“You’re cute, but I’ve got my hands full with three wives as it is,” Uzui continues, clapping Giyū on the shoulder. “We should talk more, just the two us, sometime though. I know some good izakaya.”

Giyū’s not entirely sure he’s keeping up with the conversation, but he says, “Alright.”

“Great,” Uzui says with a grin. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

---

In the manga, the Final Selection hadn’t seemed to last so long.

It was because they only showed the interesting parts, Giyū supposes. As it’s happening, though, seven nights feels like an eternity, and every morning, Giyū wakes up wondering if Makomo had survived.

He won’t know until the final day, though.

The Hand Demon hadn’t actually been that hard to put on the mountain. He’d been asked to find some low-level demons for the Final Selection, which he assumes is how it had happened in the manga too, and no one had noticed when he’d slipped in one that was a little too powerful.

And, like his predecessor, he’d given it explicit instructions to attack Makomo. He’d considered changing this part, because the system had only required that he put the demon on the mountain, but the thought of the demon killing other, less prepared participants had made him stick to the original plot.

As long as Makomo remembers her training, she should be able to do this.

Briefly, Giyū wonders what she’ll do if she survives. It would be within her right to kill him, he supposes.

“Tomioka-sensei.”

Sabito’s voice breaks Giyū from his thoughts, and he turns from the garden to look at Sabito.

“Makomo’s back,” Sabito says with a smile.

Giyū moves almost before he knows what he’s doing. He presses past Sabito, down through the hall, and there, in the doorway, is Makomo. She has a piece of gauze taped to her cheek and one of her arms is in a sling, but she’s very much alive, and not even that worse for wear.

“Your arm – ” Giyū starts, and then cuts himself off. He pauses, then says, “Welcome home.”

Makomo beams at him, and says, “I passed.”

“As if anyone thought you wouldn’t,” Sabito snorts, making Giyū startle slightly. He’d forgotten that Sabito was behind him.

“Surviving for seven days with a bunch of demons is hard,” Makomo protests, her cheeks puffing up in indignation. She glances at Giyū, something in her expression that he can’t quit interpret, and adds, “And there was one demon that I couldn’t kill.”

“A demon you couldn’t kill?” Sabito repeats, his forehead creasing.

Before Sabito can ask more questions, though, Giyū says, “Makomo.”

Both Makomo and Sabito turn to look at him.

“I’d like to talk to you in private,” Giyū continues. He doesn’t wait for a reply before turning to start down the hall, but he hears Makomo’s footsteps behind him a moment later.

The walk to Giyū’s room is quiet. He closes the door behind them, and then kneels down against the tatami, Makomo kneeling opposite him. Makomo looks as calm as ever as she faces him, and she makes no move to draw her katana, but Giyū feels his heart beat fast in his chest as he wonders how much the Hand Demon had told her.

For a moment, neither of them speaks, but finally Makomo says, “The demon I couldn’t kill…” She pauses. “It said you told it to attack me.”

“I did,” Giyū confirms.

“Why?” Makomo asks. She doesn’t sound betrayed, or angry, or any other emotion that Giyū would expect, and it catches him off guard.

He hesitates, then says, “I had no choice.”

He doesn’t know how else to explain it, at least not in a way that Makomo would understand or believe. Instead of pressing him for more information, though, Makomo just studies him, her expression calm and steady.

“You didn’t want it to kill me,” Makomo says. It’s not a question.

Giyū blinks at her.

“You’ve been increasing my training leading up to the Final Selection,” Makomo continues. “When I asked Shinazugawa-san about it, he said he thought you were being too paranoid about my training, and that I shouldn’t have any difficulty during the actual test.”

“I’m glad you survived,” Giyū says softly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

The two of them go quiet for a long moment.

“The other participants thought I was weak,” Makomo says, a little abruptly. Giyū looks back up at her, frowning slightly. “Because they think my teacher is weak, they thought I would be weak too.”

It takes Giyū a moment to realize that the ‘teacher’ she’s referring to is him, and not Shinazugawa.

“But then for seven days, I held off a demon that no one else could match,” Makomo continues. She smiles that soft, gentle smile of hers, and Giyū finds himself unable to look away. “Even if everyone else in the Demon Slaying Corps thinks I’m weak, no one else in my Final Selection does now.”

They talk for a while longer, until Sabito comes to fetch them for dinner. It seems that Makomo has no intention of killing him, or anything of that sort, now that he’s confirmed that he didn’t actually want to harm her, and not for the first time, Giyū wonders how someone as kind as Makomo became such a ruthless demon in the manga.

Dinner is somehow even more delicious than usual, although Giyū doesn’t know how Sabito manages it. They have red bean rice and salmon daikon, sumashijiru, tempura. For dessert, there’s more sweets than even Makomo can eat, and by the time they’re finished, Makomo is half-asleep at the table, a satisfied smile on her face.

Eventually, though, after some prodding from Sabito, she excuses herself to her room, leaving Giyū and Sabito to clear the dishes.

“Next year,” Sabito says, once Makomo’s left, “I’ll kill the demon. The one that Makomo couldn’t slay.”

He says it with full confidence, and even if Giyū didn’t already know how that fight is going to go, Giyū would have believed him.

“After your Final Selection,” Giyū says, watching Sabito gather the dishes up onto a tray, “you and Makomo can decide who the new Water Pillar will be.”

Sabito nearly drops his tray.

“What do you mean by that?” Sabito demands, looking up at Giyū.

Giyū frowns at him, and says, “Either of you would make a suitable Water Pillar.”

“You’re stepping down?” Sabito asks. He examines Giyū’s expression like he’s searching for something, but Giyū can’t guess what that would be.

“I’m not the Water Pillar,” Giyū answers simply.

Sabito stares at him.

They’ve spent enough time together that Sabito must have realized it by now. Personally, Giyū thinks he’s done a decent enough job as a placeholder, but he’s a P.E. teacher who only started fighting demons less than a year ago, and even with the advantage of being put into an experienced body, the original Tomioka was never meant to be a Pillar either.

If anything, he should be relinquishing his title to Makomo now, instead of making her wait another year. But the selfish part of him wants to see Sabito as the Water Pillar, so unless Makomo asks him to step down herself, he’s decided to postpone it a little longer.

“Is it because of the rumors?” Sabito asks, his voice low.

Giyū isn’t sure how to reply.

“When I first came here,” Sabito says, choosing his words slowly, “I believed them. I didn’t understand what kind of person you were.”

Giyū can’t say he knows everything about the original Tomioka, but he’s fairly sure most of those rumors are actually true.

“But now that I know that they’re wrong, I can’t understand how anyone could say those sorts of things about you,” Sabito continues. He’s put his tray back down, hands clenched into fists against the table. “How could anyone call you weak and a coward after you fought an Upper Moon to save Shinazugawa? And maybe you’re not stronger than Shinazugawa, but you’ve never lost to him either! No one questions his right to be a Pillar.”

“Sabito – ” Giyū starts, but he doesn’t get more than the word out before Sabito barrels on.

“And you’re kind,” Sabito says, his voice firm. “No one else here questions killing demons, but you went so far as to spare one because you knew she hadn’t done anything wrong.”

That was mostly because he was thinking about the possibility of Makomo becoming a demon, actually.

“Is it just because they’re jealous?” Sabito demands, his mouth set in a harsh line. “That you’re strong, and handsome – ” Handsome? “ – and became a Pillar so soon after joining the Crops? As far as I’m concerned, there’s no one more fit to be the Water Pillar than you.”

Sabito looks across the table at Giyū, his eyes swimming with some emotion that Giyū can’t even begin to describe, and Giyū finds himself frozen.

Giyū hesitates, then asks, “Is that truly how you feel?”

Sabito blinks at him, looking caught off guard. His face flushes a little, his jaw clenching, but his voice doesn’t waver as he says, “Yes. This is how I feel about you.”

“I see,” Giyū replies. His tone comes out colder than he’d intended.

It hadn’t occurred to him that treating Sabito decently would result in something like this. Has he inadvertently brainwashed Sabito into loyalty? Is that the reason Sabito refuses to let any of the other Pillars train him?

Something occurs to Giyū.

There might still be one person who can train Sabito properly.

“Pack your bags tomorrow morning,” Giyū says. “I’m sending you back to Sagiri Mountain.”

Chapter Text

Sagiri Mountain isn’t quite as Sabito remembers it.

It’s hard to believe that it’s only been a year since he last lived here. The single room house seems so much smaller now, when compared with the spacious grounds of the Water Pillar Estate, and Sabito finds himself missing his little room next to the kitchen.

That’s not all he misses, of course. He misses having a proper stove, instead of a simple pot over the hearth. He misses the courtyard, and seeing Tomioka relaxing on the porch, sipping tea or reading a book.

He misses Tomioka.

He’s not sure if he regrets confessing or not. He’s always striven to be honest, and so when Tomioka had asked how he truly felt, he hadn’t wanted to lie. And Tomioka hadn’t called him disgusting or acted violently, but the speed at which Tomioka had decided to send him away still stings.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t as quick as it had seemed in the moment. Although Tomioka generally has difficulty picking up on other people’s emotions and intentions, considering they’d lived together in such close proximity, maybe he’d picked up on Sabito’s feelings sooner than Sabito had thought. After all, everyone else had known by that point.

Maybe Tomioka hadn’t sent him away for having these feelings, but instead for voicing them aloud.

“Sabito.”

The voice breaks Sabito out of his thoughts, and he looks away from the pot of soup he was stirring.

“You know, I didn’t send you to Giyū to learn how to cook,” Urokodaki says, taking off his shoes as he enters the house.

“I finished all of the exercises you assigned me,” Sabito replies. He reaches out with a chopstick to poke at a piece of daikon, checking to see how well it’s cooked through. “And I tried sparring with Tanjirō, but he wasn’t able to keep up for very long.”

Urokodaki studies him for a moment, and then comes over to kneel next to the fire, across from Sabito. He peers into the pot, examining the contents, and then says, “You don’t have to cook.”

“I like it,” Sabito answers simply.

The two of them go quiet as Sabito finishes checking the soup. He lets it simmer for another minute while he goes to fetch some bowls, and then spoons out an appropriate amount, handing one bowl to Urokodaki and keeping the other for himself. He sets the third, empty, bowl beside the hearth, and wonders how much longer it’ll take Tanjirō to finish up his training tonight.

He watches as Urokodaki shifts his mask just enough to take a sip.

“Is Tomioka-sensei – ” Sabito starts, then cuts himself off. He hesitates, then asks, “Why does everyone call Tomioka-sensei weak?”

Sabito can’t read Urokodaki’s expression from the small part of his face not covered by his red tengu mask.

“Because he was,” Urokodaki replies, after a beat. The statement catches Sabito off guard, and he can feel himself bristle, but before he can try to argue, Urokodaki says, “I let him become a Pillar sooner than I should have.”

There’s something in Urokodaki’s voice that Sabito can’t quit identify, something that seems a little like regret.

“Why did you?” Sabito finds himself asking, before he can think better of it. “Let him become a Pillar.”

Urokodaki goes quiet for a moment.

Then, he asks, “Do you know the life expectancy of a Pillar?”

The question catches Sabito off guard.

“I don’t,” he admits.

“Most don’t survive past their twenties,” Urokodaki says. It’s in line with what Sabito expected, but that doesn’t make him feel any better about it. “And although some of us make it to retirement, it’s not common.”

“Isn’t that even more of a reason to not have made Tomioka-sensei a Pillar, then?” Sabito asks, frowning. “If he wasn’t ready.”

For a moment, Urokodaki goes quiet, looking down into his bowl.

“I’m old,” Urokodaki finally says, a little bluntly. “I can still kill most demons, but my reflexes aren’t what they once were, and my vision’s been going. The longer I waited to retire, the more likely it was that I never would.”

The thought of Urokodaki’s reflexes being even sharper than what they are now is a little scary, actually. It’s hard enough to keep up with him now. But then again, if Sabito thinks about how fast that Upper Moon was, while it probably wouldn’t have been an entirely one-sided battle, it’s hard to say if Urokodaki would have survived.

“Like you, Giyū’s family was killed by demons,” Urokodaki continues. “He was around eight when I found him.” Urokodaki hesitates, then says, “He wasn’t desperate to replace me because he wanted to become the Water Pillar.”

“He wanted you to be able to retire,” Sabito surmises.

This is the first story about Tomioka he’s heard that seems like it might actually match with the Tomioka he knows. Tomioka had simply done everything he could to save the man who had raised him, even if it meant being called weak or cowardly.

“I knew it was too soon to make him the Water Pillar, but he had potential,” Urokodaki says, looking up from his bowl to meet Sabito’s eyes. “I thought he’d grow into it with time.”

“He’s strong,” Sabito agrees, straightening out his posture.

Urokodaki studies Sabito for a long moment. As the silence stretches on, Sabito starts to wonder if he’d said something he shouldn’t have, but finally Urokodaki asks, “Giyū treated you well?”

“He did,” Sabito confirms. Not at the beginning, maybe, but they’d grown into it.

Urokodaki goes quiet for a moment.

“At first,” Urokodaki starts, “I wasn’t sure about sending you to train with him.”

Sabito blinks at Urokodaki.

“Why?” Sabito asks, frowning.

“Giyū was jealous when I first took you and Makomo in,” Urokodaki answers, taking a sip of his soup. It’s probably gone cold by now. “It’s good to see that he’s gotten over it.”

Now it’s Sabito’s turn to stare down into his soup.

He has a hard time imagining Tomioka getting jealous, but maybe that’s what it was, when he and Makomo had first come to the Water Pillar Estate. It must have been a shock, to have had Urokodaki to himself for so long, and then suddenly have to share him with two more students. Sabito supposes that could make anyone petty.

Maybe that’s why Tomioka had changed so abruptly after his fever, Sabito realizes. Although it’s possible to leave a Pillar seat vacant if there are no appropriate candidates, it wouldn’t be out of the question for Urokodaki to come out of retirement, if something were to happen Tomioka. And while in the end, the fever hadn’t actually done any permanent damage, it must have made Tomioka realize that he needed someone else to take his place, if he wanted to protect Urokodaki.

“I’m going to do some more practice swings,” Sabito says abruptly, putting aside his bowl. “If Tanjirō comes back before me, tell him to go ahead and eat.”

“Sabito – ” Urokodaki huffs, but Sabito’s already on his feet and headed for the door.

After all, he can’t just sit around cooking if he wants to be strong enough to protect both Tomioka and Urokodaki.

Even if Tomioka doesn’t want him around anymore.

---

Summer without air conditioning, Giyū has decided, is too hot.

“If you’re going to melt, do it in your own room,” Uzui huffs, eyeing Giyū. The sliding doors leading out to the courtyard are open, but there’s not much of a breeze today, and briefly, Giyū wonders if he really is going to turn into a puddle against Uzui’s tatami.

“Makomo’s on a mission,” Giyū says, after a beat.

“A solo one?” Uzui asks, looking up from his work. There’s an assortment of pens and brushes scattered over the low table, and the piece of paper at the center has a half-finished drawing of what might be Makio in a bunny girl costume.

“It’s not high priority,” Giyū replies. He’d considered coming with just to have something to do, but as a Pillar, he’s technically supposed to be on standby in case a more urgent mission comes up.

Even though it’s been months already, he’s still not quite used to being in the Water Pillar Estate without Sabito around.

“Well if you’re going to be here for a while, then make yourself useful and read this,” Uzui says, holding out a stack of papers.

Giyū blinks at it for a moment, but then accepts it.

It looks like the rough draft of a manga. A glance through the first few pages reveals that it’s some sort of high school comedy, and Giyū almost wouldn’t recognize it as Uzui’s work, if it weren’t for the art style. The protagonist is a blonde kid who keeps getting chased around by a P.E. teacher for dying his hair, and there’s something familiar about the art teacher, but Giyū can’t quite put his finger on it.

When he finishes reading, he finds Uzui looking at him expectantly.

“So?” Uzui asks.

Giyū pauses, then says, “I don’t usually read manga.”

Uzui blinks at him.

“You read Sword of Destruction, though, right?” Uzui says, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.

“My students recommended it to me,” Giyū replies.

“I guess everyone and their mother was reading it, huh?” Uzui sighs, resting an elbow on the table and propping up his cheek against his hand.

Giyū hesitates, then asks, “Are you going to continue writing it?”

Uzui looks caught off guard by the question, and his expression shifts as he takes a moment to contemplate it.

“Probably not,” Uzui finally admits. Some of the ink on his fingertips has rubbed off on his cheek, Giyū observes. “I wasn’t in a great place when I started writing it, and it would feel weird now that I know the characters as people.” He pauses, then adds, “I wouldn’t want to do that to them.”

Part of Giyū wants to ask what Uzui means by ‘that,’ but he supposes he can probably guess well enough. After all, Uzui hadn’t been shy about killing off, maiming, or abusing the characters in the manga, and now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure if he could stomach reading about the original Uzui pushing around his wives, or Sabito cutting off Makomo’s limbs in a fight.

It occurs to Giyū that maybe he doesn’t want to know how Sabito’s story was supposed to end anymore.

“Wait, did you say your students?” Uzui asks, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. “Were you a teacher or something?”

“I taught high school P.E.,” Giyū answers.

“Damn, I’m good at this,” Uzui says, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I thought you looked like you’d teach P.E.”

Giyū’s not exactly sure what he means by that.

“You still haven’t answered my question, though,” Uzui continues. “How was the manga?”

Giyū considers it, and then says, “It’s different.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Uzui asks, twirling an ink pen in his free hand.

“I don’t know,” Giyū answers. He pauses, then adds, “I like Sabito better as a protagonist.”

“Yes, but you’re biased,” Uzui says, waving off Giyū’s criticism. “I was planning on having Sabito show up in chapter three, though. Well, a character based off of Sabito.”

Giyū perks up slightly as Uzui shifts through the papers on the table, and then hands one to him. It has a sketch of a character that looks like Sabito, but without the scar and with slightly shorter hair. Off to the side, there are some scribbled notes which include in the kendo club, and has a crush on his P.E. teacher.

Giyū feels his forehead crease. Is Uzui planning on introducing another P.E. teacher? He can’t imagine Sabito being interested in the one from the first chapter.

Then again, he supposes this is supposed to be a comedy.

Before Giyū can ask about it, though, Uzui stands up and goes over to the door.

He slides it open, and Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru tumble into the room.

“Did you need something?” Uzui asks, quirking an eyebrow at them. Makio and Suma’s faces go bright red, but Hinatsuru manages a smile, and says, “We were wondering if you’d like some tea.”

Giyū blinks as he realizes that Suma’s eyeing him suspiciously, and briefly, he wonders if he should hide the manga.

“Tomioka?” Uzui asks, glancing back at him.

Giyū hesitates, then says, “Tea would be good.”

He’s relieved when Makio produces a pot of chilled tea, instead of anything hot. Lately, he’s learned to be grateful that humans had at least learned how to store ice by the Taisho era, even if they hadn’t mastered air conditioning yet.

Uzui clears the papers off the low table to make room for the tea. He doesn’t seem to pay any particular mind to the way his wives curiously peer at the drawings, although then again, Giyū’s fairly sure he’d seen Suma sighing longingly over a drawing Uzui had done of her once, so it seems Uzui’s fairly open about his artistic hobbies.

Giyū’s not entirely sure how Uzui would explain the modern high school setting of his new manga, though. Would it count as science fiction?

Hinatsuru pours Giyū a cup of tea, and he accepts it.

Suma continues to glare at him.

“Suma,” Uzui huffs, reaching out to tap her on the head. “Be nice.”

“Tengen-sama!” Suma protests, looking up at Uzui with big eyes.

“We’re just concerned,” Makio says, crossing her arms over her chest. She looks over at Giyū and adds, “You don’t exactly have the best reputation.”

“Please excuse Suma and Makio,” Hinatsuru says, giving Giyū an apologetic smile.

Giyū blinks at her, and then says, “It’s fine.”

“Ignore the rumors about him,” Uzui sighs. “He’s not that bad.”

“I heard that he’s been getting suspiciously close to the Wind Pillar,” Suma mutters, looking unconvinced by Uzui’s reassurances. “And he already has one of his students wrapped around his little finger.”

… is she worried about him attacking Uzui, now that he’s been sparring with Shinazugawa?

“I think Suma is just trying to say that she’d prefer if you consulted with us, before exploring any new relationships,” Hinatsuru says, still smiling politely. It earns her a pout from Suma, but no verbal protests.

“Trust me, I do not want to get caught up in that mess,” Uzui snorts. Giyū feels like he’s lost the thread of this conversation. “I just heard that Tomioka likes art, so I thought I’d show him some of mine.”

“You draw?” Makio asks, eyeing Giyū.

Giyū hesitates, then says, “I prefer to look at art.”

It’s true enough, and better than trying to figure out another way to explain his relationship with Uzui. He can’t exactly tell them that he just likes having someone to talk with about air conditioning and washing machines.

“We’ve had the doors to the courtyard open this whole time,” Uzui says, pointing a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the garden.

“I’ve heard he’s shameless,” Suma huffs.

Giyū’s not sure how he feels about being called ‘shameless’ by someone showing that much cleavage.

“This idiot couldn’t purposely seduce someone if his life depended on it,” Uzui retorts, waving a hand at Giyū. “And I’m pretty sure Shinazugawa just wants to fight him.” He pauses, then adds, “His student’s just weird.”

“Sabito’s not weird,” Giyū says, frowning at Uzui.

“Next time you get lonely, go hang out with Kochō,” Uzui says.

“He’s involved with Kochō too?” Makio demands, slamming her hands down on the table.

Uzui sighs.

---

The Final Selection starts tomorrow.

It’s hard to categorize exactly how Giyū’s feeling. Excited, maybe, and perhaps nervous. According to his correspondence with Urokodaki, Sabito’s training has been going well, and he’s certain Sabito will pass the Final Selection with flying colors. Even if the Hand Demon does give Sabito some trouble, he’d slayed it in the manga, so he should be able to do it again, and if anything, the only thing to worry about is what the demon will tell him.

Then again, considering the Hand Demon didn’t actually kill Makomo this time around, he probably doesn’t have to worry about Sabito trying to kill him in retaliation. Makomo may have even already told Sabito about the situation.

Eight days shouldn’t feel so long after waiting an entire year.

A particularly strong blow tears the bokken out of Giyū’s hands, and his palms throb.

“You’re distracted,” Shinazugawa says, with a scowl. He presses the point of his own bokken into the flesh of Giyū’s throat.

Giyū hesitates, then says, “Sorry.”

Shinazugawa’s scowl deepens.

Giyū bends down to pick up his bokken again, and tries to push the thought of Sabito out of his mind. He’s gotten slightly better at keeping up with Shinazugawa during their ‘sparring’ sessions, but he definitely can’t afford to be distracted if he wants to last more than a few minutes. Not that he has any particular qualms about finishing things quickly, but Shinazugawa gets angry at him if he thinks he isn’t trying hard enough.

Bokken retrieved, Giyū readies his stance.

Normally, Shinazugawa makes the first move. Giyū’s still not entirely sure if it’s from impatience, or in order to make the most of his speed advantage, but the longer it takes Shinazugawa to lunge, the more it puts Giyū on edge.

Briefly, Giyū wonders if Sabito’s the type to attack first, or wait for his opponent. He doesn’t remember those details from the manga.

Shinazugawa lowers his bokken.

“We’re done for today,” Shinazugawa announces. “I’m not going to waste my time if you’re not focused.”

Giyū blinks at him. Isn’t all of this a waste of time?

Asking seems like it might make Shinazugawa mad at him again, though, so Giyū keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he follows Shinazugawa as he goes to put away his bokken, and wonders if there’s anything he can do to make up for ruining today’s ‘sparring.’

“I have some sakura mochi,” Giyū says, as he hands Shinazugawa his bokken.

“Yeah?” Shinazugawa replies, giving him a suspicious look.

“And tea,” Giyū adds. Well, he has tea leaves, but he can probably figure out how to brew them. He mostly drinks water whenever Makomo’s off on missions, now that Sabito’s no longer around to bring him tea with almost scarily convenient timing.

Shinzugawa studies him for another moment, but finally sighs and says, “Fine.”

With that, he pushes open the dojo’s sliding doors, and plops himself down on the porch, overlooking the garden. Giyū takes that as his cue to go get the mochi and tea, and he starts towards the kitchen.

It doesn’t take him long to locate the mochi, but the tea is another matter. He knows how the stove works in theory, but he doesn’t usually use it that often, and it takes him a while to boil the water. The teapot is a bit of a mystery to him too – he’d mainly just put teabags in his water bottle in his previous life – but eventually he manages to make something that looks relatively tea-like, and he balances the teapot, two cups, and the sakura mochi on a tray before heading back to the dojo.

He finds Shinazugawa in the same position he’d left him in, looking out over the garden, and he sits down beside Shinazugawa. Shinazugawa glances at him, and then at the tray, and Giyū takes that as his cue to pour the tea. He offers Shinazugawa a cup, and Shinazugawa eyes it warily for a moment, but eventually accepts it.

Shinazugawa takes a sip, and nearly chokes.

“What,” Shinazugawa says, around coughs, “the fuck did you do to this tea?”

Giyū blinks at him, and then looks down at his own cup.

He takes a sip.

It tastes… rather burnt.

“Sabito and Makomo usually make the tea,” Giyū finally says.

Shinazugawa grunts in reply.

The two of them go quiet for a moment, and Giyū wracks his mind for something to say. It’s been over a year and a half since he first met Shinazugawa, and he still hasn’t gotten any better at making conversation with him. Thankfully, Shinazugawa seems to prefer to spend their time sparring rather than talking, so there’s usually not a need, but on the rare occasion they do end up together like this, it’s usually fairly quiet.

“Your student,” Shinazugawa starts, a little haltingly. “The one with the scar.”

“Sabito?” Giyū offers, perking up slightly. Usually, if Shinazugawa’s going to bring up one of his students, it’s Makomo, considering they’ve actually spent time training together.

“That one,” Sabito confirms. He hesitates, then asks, “Is he participating in the Final Selection tomorrow?”

“He is,” Giyū answers, looking over at Shinazugawa. Shinazugawa’s face is still twisted up like he’s tasting the lingering bitterness of the tea, and Giyū makes a mental note to ask Sabito to teach him how to brew tea properly, once he’s back at the estate again.

“Is he,” Shinazugawa starts, saying each word like he’s physically pulling them out of his throat, “doing well?

Is Shinazugawa… taking an interest in Sabito?

“Urokodaki-sensei said his training is progressing well,” Giyū answers. “He should have no trouble passing the Final Selection.” He pauses, then adds, “You can spar with him when he gets back.”

“Why would I want to spar with some kid who just entered the Corps?” Shinazugawa huffs. He downs the rest of his tea, face scrunching up with displeasure. “What’s so great about him anyway?”

Giyū blinks at Shinazugawa.

What’s not great about Sabito?

He’s strong, for one. It’s probably hard for Shinazugawa to tell now, considering he’d only met Sabito when Sabito had first started training, but by this point in the manga, Sabito had at least been strong enough to kill the original Tomioka. Even though Tomioka wasn’t a real Pillar, he’d been a good enough demon slayer, and now that Sabito’s had proper training, he’s probably almost as strong as Shinazugawa.

Then of course there’s Sabito’s personality. He’s confident, and brave, and kind, and gentlemanly. Maybe a little strict and stubborn too, but that’s only because he holds himself and the people around him to high standards.

And that’s not even getting into how good at housework Sabito is. Giyū feels a little guilty about that, actually, considering how Sabito came about acquiring that particular talent, but in the end it is an asset. Sabito could probably make a decent living as a chef if he ever decided to retire from demon slaying.

“Actually, I don’t want to know,” Shinazugawa snorts, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. He shoves the rest of his sakura mochi into his mouth and adds, “Next time you get distracted, I’ll beat your ass instead of going easy on you.”

Isn’t that what he does every time anyway?

Giyū decides it’s probably better not to protest, though, and just nods, taking a small bite of his own mochi. Apparently Shinazugawa’s satisfied with the response, because he puts his teacup back on the tray and then pushes himself up to his feet.

He turns to start towards the door, but then hesitates, and glances back at Giyū to say, “Once your student’s back, you better stop looking so gloomy.” Gloomy? “Watching you mope around here has been fucking depressing. So if Sabi-whatever fucks off again, I’ll kick his ass.”

With that, he leaves.

Giyū’s not entirely sure what he meant by that last bit, but he supposes it’s nice to know that Shinazugawa cares, in his own way.

---

Sabito stands in front of the Water Pillar Estate and braces himself.

It’s been a year to the day since he last saw Tomioka Giyū. He’s kept in touch with Makomo, so he’s at least heard updates on how Tomioka’s been doing, but the thought of seeing Tomioka in person again…

Part of Sabito wonders if he should leave. It’s customary for breath users to go greet their representative Pillar upon officially entering the Corps, but Tomioka had sent him away for a reason, and there’s no guarantee he won’t be rejected at the door again. He’s spent the last year trying to work through his feelings, and he’d like to think he’s gotten past the more negative ones, but seeing Tomioka again might send them all flooding back.

Sabito takes a deep breath, and calls out, “Sabito, here to see the Water Pillar!”

He’s barely gotten the words out, though, before the sliding door flies open.

“Sabito,” Tomioka says, a little breathless.

Sabito stares.

To be entirely honest, some part of him had wondered if his memory had exaggerated how beautiful Tomioka was. Looking at Tomioka now, though, it feels more like his memory hadn’t done Tomioka justice.

“Welcome back,” Tomioka continues, a small, soft smile on his face, and briefly, Sabito wonders if he’s dreaming.

He hesitates, then asks, “Am I allowed inside?”

Tomioka blinks at him slowly, forehead creasing.

“We’re having a party for you,” Tomioka says, and now it’s Sabito’s turn to blink.

“A party?” Sabito blurts out, before he can stop himself.

“You passed the Final Selection,” Tomioka replies, which is sort of an explanation, Sabito supposes, but this is not exactly the reception he was expecting. Tomioka seems to realize something, and adds, “I’ll inform everyone you’re back.”

Sabito finds himself shuttled into the estate, before Tomioka disappears again. His room is almost exactly how he left it, and he sets his things there before heading for the kitchen.

“Sabito!” Makomo exclaims, smiling as she lays eyes on him. She’s standing at the stove, a pair of cooking chopsticks in hand, and for a brief moment, Sabito feels like he’s been replaced.

He barely has a second to register the emotion, though, before he takes in the rest of the room.

“What’s he doing here?” Sabito asks, the words escaping his mouth before he can stop them.

“Is that any way to talk about someone who’s helping prepare for your welcome home party?” Uzui asks, brandishing a kitchen knife. He doesn’t sound seriously offended, but his wives look less than pleased, and the chances of this being a dream seem to be increasing with every minute.

“Tomioka-sensei didn’t want to leave all the cooking to me,” Makomo explains. “He offered to help, but I thought that this would be a better solution.”

Sabito can’t really argue with that. The first – and only – time he’d let Tomioka use a kitchen knife, it was a miracle no one lost a finger. Sabito’s still not entirely sure how Tomioka managed it, considering how adept with a blade he usually is.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Sabito finally asks, deciding not to argue about Uzui’s presence. According to Makomo’s letters, although Uzui and Tomioka have been spending a lot of time together over the past year, it doesn’t seem like Tomioka’s being seduced into orgies or anything like that.

And even if he was, Tomioka’s an adult. As long as he’s not being scammed or something, it’s his own choice whether or not he wants to become Uzui’s fourth spouse.

Sabito’s been trying very hard to remind himself of that fact.

“Tomioka would kill us if we made you cook for your own party,” Uzui snorts, going back to peeling a carrot. “Take a seat and relax.”

Sabito hesitates, but a deer-eyed look from Makomo makes him do as he’s told.

It doesn’t actually take that long to finish preparing the food. Sabito sees Tomioka briefly, but he’s in and out of the kitchen, carrying food to the estate’s main hall and greeting guests as they arrive. Sabito’s a little caught off guard by the fanfare of it all, especially when he’s finally ushered into the main hall and finds Kochō Shinobu and Shinazugawa Sanemi sitting at the table.

His surprise must show on his face, because Uzui leans in and tells him in a low voice, “They’re more here for Tomioka than for you. He’s been going on about you coming home for months.”

Uzui claps Sabito on the shoulder and then goes to sit between Hinatsuru and Suma.

“Sabito,” Tomioka says, indicating the open spot next to him.

For a moment, Sabito finds himself frozen in the doorway.

In her letters, Makomo had said that Tomioka had seemed lonely with him gone. And Sabito had believed her to a certain extent, because towards the end of their time together, Tomioka had seemed to take a bit of a liking to him, but he’d also thought that Makomo had been exaggerating a little. After all, how could Tomioka miss him, after sending him away like that?

But Uzui, Kochō, and even Shinazugawa are here, and it’s easy enough to tell they’re not here for him. If it was enough to concern Shinazugawa, then maybe Makomo was actually toning things down when she said that Tomioka seemed “a little sad” that he was gone.

Sabito takes a seat next to Tomioka, and Tomioka hands him a plate.

The whole party kind of feels like a dream. Sabito spends most of it talking to Tomioka about things that have happened within the past year (which in practice is mostly him detailing his training, while Tomioka asks the occasional question). The other guests butt in sometimes, to add a comment or tell him about what Tomioka’s been up to, but they mostly stay out of the conversation, and Sabito tries not to think about what that implies.

Sabito watches on in a bit of a daze as Tomioka downs a mouthful of sake. The line of his throat and the flush on his cheeks is nothing short of captivating, and even though Sabito hasn’t been drinking, he can feel heat spread out over his own cheeks.

“Sabito,” Tomioka says, breaking Sabito from his thoughts.

Tomioka holds out his cup towards Sabito, and Sabito blinks as he realizes it’s gone empty. He starts to reach for the bottle of sake on instinct, but he manages to catch himself, and instead says, “Tomioka-sensei, I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

Tomioka blinks at him.

“I’m not drunk,” Tomioka says. If it were anyone other than Tomioka, it would sound almost petulant.

“You’ve had almost a whole bottle by yourself,” Sabito huffs, moving the sake out of Tomioka’s reach. Of course, it’s not enough to stop Tomioka if he really wanted to get at the bottle, but Tomioka doesn’t try, just looks blankly down at his empty cup.

“I think it’s about time to wrap this up,” Uzui announces. He claps Sabito on the shoulder, and Sabito startles slightly, looking away from Tomioka to scowl at Uzui. Uzui grins at him and says, “You should get Tomioka to his room before he falls asleep on us.”

The way Uzui says it makes Sabito bristle a little, but he manages a polite nod, and says, “Thank you for taking the time to come out tonight.”

“I’m not going to fall asleep,” Tomioka protests, frowning slightly.

“That’s what you say every time,” Uzui sighs.

“It’s late,” Sabito announces, before Tomioka can try to argue further. He reaches over to take the sake cup from Tomioka’s hands, and sets it on the table, before pushing himself to his feet.

Tomioka gets up too, but he’s a little unsteady, and Sabito reaches out to brace him. It brings Tomioka much closer into Sabitio’s personal space, and Tomioka rests his hands against the front of Sabito’s uniform jacket, the warmth of his palms seeping in through the thin layers of fabric.

Sabito’s heart beats fast in his chest, and he tears his gaze away from Tomioka.

He ends up meeting Uzui’s eyes instead, and the smirk it earns him only makes his cheeks flush harder.

In the end, he manages to guide Tomioka out of the room without embarrassing himself further, but it’s clear that everyone’s doing their best to politely ignore how red his face is. He’d known, of course, that he hadn’t exactly been subtle about his affections when he’d lived at the Water Pillar Estate, but it’s another thing to see how clearly everyone knows, and his pride can’t help but feel a little wounded.

Something occurs to Sabito.

“I’m sorry,” he says, a little abruptly. They’re halfway down the hallway, and he’s managed to shift their position to sling Tomioka’s arm over his shoulders, his own arm around Tomioka’s waist.

Tomioka blinks at him slowly, and Sabito clenches his jaw.

“Please bear with it for just a little longer,” Sabito continues, fixing his eyes back on the dimly lit hallway.

After all, it’s one thing to interact in a room full of people, and something else entirely to be alone with Tomioka. It must be unpleasant for Tomioka to be so close to him, considering how badly Tomioka had reacted to his confession – which, Sabito realizes, is also the last time they were alone together for more than a few seconds.

Sabito can feel Tomioka’s eyes on him as he pushes open the door to Tomioka’s room. Tomioka doesn’t say anything, though, or try to put some distance between them, and Sabito struggles to lay out Tomioka’s futon with his free arm.

In the end, his attempts only serve to rumple the sheets, and he tries to set Tomioka down so he can straighten out the futon properly. As he releases his grip, though, Tomioka grabs onto his uniform jacket again, and almost before he can register what’s happening, he’s pulled down onto the futon.

“Tomioka-sensei – ” Sabito sputters. He’d managed to catch himself before falling down on top of Tomioka, but it’s left him braced on all fours above Tomioka, the rumpled futon beneath them.

“Don’t leave,” Tomioka says, his voice soft and low.

Sabito somehow manages to avoid combusting on the spot.

“Tomioka-sensei – ” Sabito tries again.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Tomioka interrupts, his expression nothing but open and honest as he looks up at Sabito and –

“Are you testing me?” Sabito demands, before he can stop himself.

Tomioka blinks at him slowly.

If this isn’t some sort of test, Sabito has no idea what else it could be. He’s pinched himself enough times tonight to prove that this isn’t just a dream, and if this is real, then Sabito can’t think of a single reason why Tomioka would – would –

“Sabito,” Tomioka says, frowning slightly.

“Goodnight,” Sabito announces.

He leaves without fixing Tomioka’s futon.

---

It’s been a long time since Giyū last had a hangover.

He peels his eyes open slowly, trying to ignore the ache in his temples. The inside of his mouth tastes less than pleasant, although he’s fairly sure he didn’t vomit last night, and for a moment, he considers burying his head under his pillow.

Instead, he forces himself upright.

Before he can start taking stock of the situation, though, there’s a knock on the door. Briefly, Giyū hesitates, wondering if he should try to straighten out his appearance, but there probably isn’t much he could do quickly, so instead he says, “Come in.”

The door slides open to reveal Sabito, and Giyū feels his heartrate increase, ever so slightly.

“Tomioka-sensei,” Sabito says, inclining his head respectfully. He hesitates for a moment, an uncommon gesture, but then straightens his posture again and adds, “I’ve prepared breakfast.”

Giyū’s stomach decides to remind him that it’s been a full year since he last tasted Sabito’s cooking, and he waits for Sabito to bring over the tray.

Sabito hesitates again, looking at Giyū in a way he can’t quite interpret, but then comes into the room. He settles himself next to Giyū’s bedside, arranging the breakfast tray carefully, and Giyū takes a moment to straighten out his clothes. It’s a little embarrassing to be seen by Sabito in such a state of disarray, but if his memory is correct, Sabito already saw him like this last night.

Also, it’s not as if he has a reason to worry about what Sabito thinks of him anymore. Sabito’s no longer his student.

“Tomioka-sensei – ” Sabito starts, breaking Giyū from his thoughts.

“Tomioka,” Giyū corrects.

Sabito blinks at him.

“I’m no longer your teacher,” Giyū explains.

“Even if I – ” Sabito starts again, but then cuts himself off abruptly. He clenches his hands into fists against his thighs and says, “Was that really enough to disown me as a student?”

Now it’s Giyū’s turn to blink.

“You passed the Final Selection,” Giyū says, trying to puzzle out the tense set of Sabito’s shoulders. “Neither you or Makomo are my students anymore.”

The statement appears to catch Sabito off guard.

“I see,” he says, after a moment.

Giyū waits for Sabito to continue, but he makes no move to, so Giyū picks up the chopsticks off the breakfast tray. He starts on the bowl of rice, taking small bites as he puzzles out what to say. Normally, Sabito’s the one doing most of the talking, although maybe they’d talked so much last night that he’s run out of things to say?

“I know,” Sabito starts, slowly, carefully, “that I am no longer your student. And after what happened before, I respect your right to refuse, but it is customary for Breath users to take up residence in their Pillar’s estate.”

He looks at Giyū expectantly, his hands still clenched into tense fists.

Giyū frowns. Is Sabito trying to say he’d rather live somewhere else? Sagiri Mountain is rather far away to make for a good base of operations, and as a new member of the Corps, his salary probably isn’t enough to –

Realization dawns on Giyū.

“The room next to Makomo’s is vacant,” Giyū says. It’s not quite as nice as his own room, but it’s much better than the glorified storage closet that Sabito was using before. Now that he thinks about it, it’s a little surprising that Sabito’s never brought up the topic until now, but he supposes Sabito was just trying to respect the hierarchy of the estate.

“Are you sure?” Sabito blurts out. As soon as the words leave his mouth, his face goes a little pink, and Giyū has to resist the urge to pat his head. “I – ” He hesitates, averting his gaze. “My… feelings haven’t changed.”

Feelings? About what?

“I wouldn’t want to make things,” Sabito says haltingly, “uncomfortable.”

Why would Sabito moving to a new room make anyone uncomfortable? Has he actually been holding onto some sort of grudge this entire time, about how the original Tomioka had treated him? He thought they’d gotten past –

Ah.

It’s the room next to Makomo’s.

“I don’t think there will be any issues,” Giyū decides. It’s been clear that Makomo’s been looking forward to Sabito’s return for a while now, and while he isn’t sure if she’s developed any romantic feelings for Sabito yet, it’s only a matter of time. The only reason they hadn’t ended up together in the manga was because Makomo had been turned into a demon, and they’ve managed to avoid that so far.

“Even after how we parted ways?” Sabito asks softly, a complicated expression on his fact that Giyū can’t entirely interpret.

Giyū blinks at him. He hadn’t thought Sabito and Makomo were on bad terms. Then again, when he’d first sent Sabito back to Sagiri Mountain, Makomo had seemed unusually on edge and irritable. He’d thought she was mad at him for something, but maybe she’d had a fight with Sabito before he left?

Giyū goes quiet for a moment as he considers the situation.

“A year is a long time,” he finally says. “And with enough time to think, a person’s feelings can change.”

After all, although Makomo had started out looking angry, after a while she’d mostly just seemed sad. And by the end, she’d seemed excited about Sabito coming home. So while Giyū’s not entirely sure if she’s romantically interested in Sabito yet, it’s clear that she cares about him and wants him around.

Giyū realizes that Sabito is staring at him with wide eyes.

“Your feelings may not be entirely reciprocated now,” Giyū admits, when Sabito still doesn’t say anything. “But with enough effort, the situation may change.”

In the manga, Sabito had been quite adept at wooing the other characters, and while it was mostly unconscious, Giyū’s sure that if Sabito put some actual effort into winning someone over, it would probably go even quicker.

“Are you giving me permission to,” Sabito says, a little haltingly, “make advances?”

Shouldn’t he be asking Makomo that?

“Unless the other party asks you to stop,” Giyū amends. Not that he thinks Makomo would, or that Sabito would try to force his advances on Makomo, but it’s probably good to be clear on this front.

Sabito looks at him with an expression that Giyū can’t even begin to describe, and then bows so deep he almost hits his head on the breakfast tray between them.

“Thank you for giving me the chance to prove myself,” Sabito announces. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

When Sabito straightens out of his bow, he smiles, so relieved and fond that it’s almost painful to look at.

Makomo is a lucky girl.

Still, it would probably be better if Sabito was having this conversation with Makomo instead. Is this the Taisho era influence working? Giyū supposes that because Makomo doesn’t have any living relatives, either he or Urokodaki would be the closet equivalent, and therefore the best people to ask for permission to court her. But he’s not actually in any position to make that sort of decision on Makomo’s behalf.

“You should be more direct,” Giyū suggests. He picks up his rice again, taking another bite.

“More direct?” Sabito echoes, his forehead creasing.

Giyū tries to think of an example, and says, “Such as last night.”

While he appreciates that Sabito had spent most of the party talking with him, if Sabito had wanted to sit beside Makomo, he should have said something. Makomo might even think that he’s uninterested now, if they’d parted ways on bad terms.

“Tomioka-sensei!” Sabito sputters, his face turning red. “I want to do this properly.” He pauses, then adds, “In order to prove that my feelings are genuine. I wouldn't want anyone to have... regrets.”

Giyū supposes that this is technically the proper order of things for the time period, so he can’t be too harsh on Sabito for it.

“Do you prefer,” Sabito starts, a little awkwardly, “direct men?”

Giyū considers it, and then says, “I do.” He hadn’t been bothered by his sister’s husband not asking for permission to marry his sister, even though he’d technically been the ‘man’ of the household, after their parents had passed.

Sabito looks like he’s just bit into a lemon.

“Even if that’s what you prefer,” Sabito says, his tone firm and his posture rigid, “you should be careful not to drink so much, like last night. You don’t drink like that around the other Pillars, do you?”

Giyū blinks at Sabito. He’s not entirely sure what this has to do with Makomo, but apparently now that Sabito’s aired his grievances, he’s gone into full lecture mode. Granted, his conduct last night was rather undignified, but it’s not as if he has much of a reputation to ruin at this point.

“I’ll be more careful in the future,” Giyū allows. If his conduct was enough to bother Sabito this much, it’s probably better if he doesn’t cause trouble for everyone else too.

“Thank you, Tomioka-sensei,” Sabito replies, inclining his head slightly.

“Tomioka,” Giyū corrects.

Sabito hesitates, his cheeks flushing slightly, and then says, “Tomioka.”

---

The Water Pillar Estate falls so quickly back into its usual routine, that it’s almost as if Sabito never left.

That’s not to say there aren’t any differences, of course. Although Sabito still makes breakfast for the estate, instead of leaving Giyū to eat on his own, most days now he insists on eating together. Sometimes Makomo joins them, but she usually prefers to sleep in later, and while Giyū feels a little guilty about depriving Sabito of the chance to eat with her, he enjoys the company too much to protest.

Sabito talks more freely, too. By the time Giyū had sent him back to Sagiri Mountain, he had already been voicing more of his thoughts, but now that Giyū’s treating him as more of, well, an adult, he supposes, it’s been much easier to have real conversations.

Apparently, Sabito had spent a decent portion of the past year helping Tanjirō look into ways to turn demons back into humans. They hadn’t found anything concrete, but they’d heard some rumors of demons in Tokyo who had managed to curb their bloodlust and live among humans, which is a start, at least.

The rest of his time on Sagiri Mountain, Sabito had spent training.

Giyū wipes the sweat off his forehead as he lowers his bokken. The forest is quiet around him, tranquil in the morning sunlight, beyond the occasional chirping of birds.

Technically, he doesn’t have to train here anymore. He’s improved enough that he’s probably about as strong as the original Tomioka was, so there’s no particular reason he can’t train in the estate dojo. He already uses it whenever Shinazugawa comes over to ‘spar.’

There’s something he likes about this little clearing in the forest, though.

“Tomioka-sensei!”

A voice breaks Giyū from his thoughts, and he turns to find Sabito at the edge of the clearing. The sleeves of Sabito’s uniform shirt are rolled up to his biceps, and he’s carrying a bokken of his own, and Giyū wonders if Sabito was looking for a place to train too.

“Tomioka,” Giyū corrects, a few beats too late.

“Tomioka,” Sabito concedes, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Giyū’s heartrate increases, and he wonders what could have caused it.

“Were you training?” Sabito asks, breaking Giyū from his thoughts again. Giyū nods in confirmation, and Sabito continues with, “Would you spar with me?”

The question catches Giyū off guard. There’s nothing in Sabito’s expression to suggest that he’s joking, though, and briefly, Giyū considers how to respond. Like with Shinazugawa, he doubts there’s anything beneficial Sabito would get from sparring with him, if Sabito’s as strong as he was at this point in the manga.

Makomo would be a much better choice, but maybe Sabito doesn’t want to fight the girl he’s in love with? Even if it’s just sparring. As far as he knows, Shinazugawa’s not on a mission right now, though, so –

“I want to show you what I’ve learned this past year,” Sabito says.

Ah. So Sabito wants to prove that he’s a proper candidate to be the next Water Pillar.

Giyū nods in assent, and says, “Alright.”

Sabito smiles, and Giyū’s heartrate increases again.

They position themselves across from each other in the middle of the clearing, assuming careful stances. Sabito’s posture had always been good, even before Giyū had started actually letting him train, but after a year of proper instruction, he’s fully settled into it.

Giyū doesn’t have much time to admire the set of Sabito’s shoulders or the bend of his knees, though, before Sabito lunges at him.

Giyū blocks Sabito’s first attack cleanly. Sabito doesn’t let it faze him, though, swinging his sword again, this time with more force. The impact of their bokken makes Giyū’s hands tingle, but he holds his ground, heart beating fast as he pushes back against Sabito.

Sabito’s considerably faster than he was before, but he’s not as fast as Shinazugawa, Giyū decides. Giyū deflects Sabito’s next blow with a careful shift of his bokken, and then strikes back, aiming for Sabito’s chest. Sabito manages to dodge, but the edge of Giyū’s bokken still catches his upper arm, and it catches Giyū off guard a little. He hadn’t expected to actually make contact.

To Sabito’s credit, he’s quick to take advantage of Giyū’s hesitation, and now it’s Giyū’s turn to dodge. The tip of Sabito’s bokken narrowly misses the side of Giyū’s neck, and the attack brings Sabito close enough into Giyū’s personal space that he can see the way Sabito grits his teeth.

Before he can think too hard about what he’s doing, Giyū shifts his grip on his bokken and thrusts the butt of it directly into Sabito’s stomach.

Sabito grunts and doubles over from the impact. He also takes a hand off the hilt of his bokken, instead grabbing onto Giyū's shoulder to steady himself, and there’s so little space in between them that Sabito ends up pressed up against Giyū, far too deep into Giyū's personal space.

It occurs to Giyū that Sabito’s slightly taller than him now.

Sabito pants out a gasp, trying to regain the breath that Giyū knocked out of him. His mouth is right next to Giyū’s ear, and Giyū’s heartrate increases again, his face flushing for reasons he can’t quite pinpoint, and before he can think about it, he pushes Sabito away.

Sabito stumbles back a few steps and then blinks at him.

“You’ve improved,” Giyū says, in an attempt to distract himself from the heat on his face. He fixes his stance, and Sabito mirrors him.

“You’re as strong as ever,” Sabito replies, his eyes intent as he looks at Giyū.

Instead of trying to correct him, Giyū lunges forward.

Sabito blocks his first blow cleanly, along with the second and the third. He pushes back against the fourth, and Giyū finds his bokken forced back as he struggles to keep a firm grip on the hilt.

After a few moments, he manages to force Sabito’s bokken to the side, but he’s nearly too late to block as Sabito strikes again, and he takes a step back on instinct. Sabito doesn’t miss it, and he uses his momentum to continue attacking, making Giyū take another step back, and then another.

This is the Sabito that Giyū remembers from the manga.

The sort of swordsman who would barely give his opponent a chance to breathe in a fight, much less counterattack. Who used his physical strength to his advantage, and could slice through the hardest bone in one clean swing. Who wouldn’t hesitate to keep on attacking, even after cutting off all of his opponent’s –

Giyū’s heel catches on something, and he feels himself stumble backwards.

The sudden shift makes Sabito’s bokken hit his own at an awkward angle, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to try to adjust his grip as he starts to fall backwards. The only thing he can really do is brace himself before –

An arm wraps around Giyū’s waist, and he finds himself pulled back upright.

“Careful,” Sabito says, pressing Giyū flush to his chest.

Giyū finds himself frozen.

Sabito’s face is mere centimeters from his own, and he’d barely have to lean in to press their mouths together.

“Tomioka-sensei?” Sabito asks, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. Sabito frowns slightly, and Giyū’s suddenly aware of how handsome Sabito’s face is, the line of his jaw and the perfect shape of his eyes. Even his scar makes him look more attractive, fierce and maybe a little dangerous.

Sabito still hasn’t released his grip on Giyū’s waist, and heat builds low in Giyū’s stomach, his heart beating fast as –

Ah.

This is a problem.

---

“Tomioka!”

Giyū’s barely opened the door to the Water Pillar Estate before Sabito appears in the hallway.

“How was your mission?” Sabito asks, coming over towards him.

“It was fine,” Giyū answers simply. He keeps his eyes on his shoes as he takes them off, trying to ignore the way his heartrate increases with every step Sabito takes towards him.

“Are you hungry? I can make something,” Sabito offers. “We should have – ”

“I’m going to rest in my room,” Giyū interrupts, brushing past Sabito.

He doesn’t get very far, though, before Sabito’s hand wraps around his arm, bringing him to a halt.

“Are you alright?” Sabito asks, and Giyū makes the mistake of looking at him. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he studies Giyū.

Giyū hesitates, but then says, “I’m just tired.”

“Your face is a little red,” Sabito observes. He presses the back of his hand to Giyū’s forehead, his other hand still gripping tight to Giyū’s arm, and Giyū’s fairly sure the contact only serves to make his face flush redder.

“It’s hot today,” Giyū points out.

“I’ll bring you some water,” Sabito says, taking his hand away from Giyū’s forehead.

Briefly, Giyū considers insisting that he’d rather be left alone, but in the end, he just nods. Sabito studies him for another moment, but finally releases Giyū’s arm, and Giyū takes the opportunity to retreat to his room.

The heat on Giyū’s face doesn’t fade until he’s closed the door firmly behind him.

Somehow, he’s become attracted to Sabito.

‘Somehow’ probably isn’t the right word to use. Sabito is a handsome young man and a talented demon slayer, hardworking and considerate. In some ways, it would be harder not to fall for him, but that doesn’t stop Giyū from feeling guilty about it.

It’s bad enough that he still hasn’t relinquished the Water Pillar title to Sabito yet, without also using their proximity to be a lecherous creep. Maybe that’s why Sabito had been reluctant to move back into the estate, until he’d been reminded that Makomo is also still living here.

Then again, Sabito doesn’t act like he’s aware of Giyū’s… inclinations. He’s always seemed uncomfortable with how casually Uzui flirts with his wives in public, but Giyū’s never felt the same sort of awkwardness or disapproval aimed at himself. If anything, it feels like Sabito’s been getting into his personal space even more than before, and Giyū’s lost track of how many times Sabito’s casually touched him since coming back from Sagiri Mountain.

If Sabito really hasn’t noticed, though, Giyū would prefer if it stayed that way.

“Tomioka?”

Giyū startles, as he hears Sabito’s muffled voice through the door. Part of him regrets letting Sabito refer to him without an honorific, even if it wasn’t a title he deserved in the first place.

Instead of replying, Giyū opens the door. Sabito’s standing in the hallway, holding a pitcher of water and a cup, and Giyū says, “Thank you,” before reaching out to accept them. He doesn’t meet Sabito’s eyes, but he can feel Sabito’s gaze on him, and he has to resist the urge to close the door in Sabito’s face.

Sabito hesitates, but then says, “If you’re feeling better later, I have some sweets that I made earlier.” A pause, and then, “There’s some plum wine, too. The azaleas are blooming, so I thought – ”

“You should take Makomo,” Giyū says, a little abruptly. He busies himself with setting down the water pitcher.

“Should I call Kochō-san?” Sabito asks, apparently mistaking Giyū’s reluctance to go as an indicator of his health.

“There’s no need,” Giyū replies curtly, and he starts to close the sliding door, but it only moves a few centimeters before Sabito reaches out to grab the edge, holding it open. The sudden movement catches Giyū off guard, and before he can catch himself, he looks up at Sabito. Sabito’s mouth has twisted down into a scowl, his forehead creased, and the intent way he’s studying Giyū makes Giyū feel frozen in place.

For a moment, Sabito’s quiet, but then he says, “Did I do something?”

Giyū blinks at him slowly.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Sabito elaborates.

Giyū hesitates, trying to think of how to reply.

“It doesn’t concern you,” he finally says. His voice comes out steadier than he’d expected it to.

“Is it – ” Sabito starts, but then cuts himself off. He hesitates, but then says, “If you’re having second thoughts about… what we discussed before, I understand. I won’t hold you to it.” A pause, and then, “I can leave.”

What they discussed before? Giyū had thought he’d made it clear that whether or not Sabito stared courting Makomo was between the two of them, and Sabito has as much a right to stay here as –

Ah.

Going by the manga timeline, it’s past time for Sabito to leave, isn’t it?

Leave the Demon Slaying Corps, that is. A lot has changed from the original plotline, and Sabito doesn’t seem to hold any particular resentment towards the Crops now, but Sabito was never meant to follow someone else’s orders. Even though Giyū’s relinquished his status as Sabito’s teacher, he still hasn’t made good on his promise of letting either Sabito or Makomo become the new Water Pillar, which must be the discussion that Sabito is referring to.

Briefly, Giyū wonders if it’s possible to step down as a Pillar without retiring. Urokodaki, the elder Rengoku, and all of the other former Pillars he can think of had left the Corps, but it seems like a waste to stop taking missions just because he’s no longer a Pillar.

Maybe he could help Tanjirō look into how to turn demons back into humans instead?

“Have you and Makomo decided, then?” Giyū finally asks.

Sabito blinks at him.

“Decided what?” Sabito asks.

“The next Water Pillar,” Giyū clarifies.

The statement seems to catch Sabito off guard, and for a moment, he looks at Giyū as if he’s trying to puzzle something out, but eventually he says, “I was under the impression that it was up to the current Pillar to decide their successor.” He pauses, then adds, “Although I suppose Makomo must be getting close to slaying fifty demons, so she would already qualify in that sense.”

“Both of you are strong enough to become Pillars,” Giyū says firmly. Although it’s hard to say which of them is stronger at this point, the only reason Makomo has slayed more demons that Sabito is that she’s been an official member of the Corps for longer. He doubts it’ll take Sabito long to catch up with her headcount.

“Even so,” Sabito retorts, his mouth pressed in a stubborn line, “it’s not for us to decide. It’s your duty as a Pillar to choose a successor.”

For a moment, Giyū goes quiet. Then, he says, “I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’d chosen out of favoritism.”

Maybe it’s too much to say, but it’s the truth. Even if he’d only realized his affections for Sabito recently, now that he thinks about some of the comments Uzui, Shinazugawa, and Shinobu have made in the past, it’s clear they’ve picked up on his soft spot for Sabito. And although he’s sure that Sabito would be able to prove his worth as a Pillar easily, he wouldn’t want Makomo to feel slighted either.

“Tomioka-sensei!”

Giyū’s startled out of his thoughts as Sabito reaches forward and grabs his hands, holding them so tightly it makes his fingers twinge.

“Let them say what they will!” Sabito announces, and the look in his eyes makes Giyū’s heartrate increase. “You’ve proven time and again that you’re as much of a Pillar as any of them, and both Makomo and I are proud to have been your students. If they accuse you of favoritism, then we’ll just prove them wrong.”

“They may,” Giyū says a little haltingly, “be right.”

Sabito blinks at him.

“I can’t be sure that I’m being objective,” Giyū admits.

It takes Sabito a moment to reply.

His mouth hangs open slightly, his eyes a little wide, and Giyū watches on in fascination as Sabito’s face slowly flushes. He’s seen Sabito flustered before, but never quite like this, and he waits as Sabito seems to struggle with something for a moment.

“I’ll talk to Makomo,” Sabito finally manages. The tips of his ears are pink, Giyū observes absently.

“Thank you,” Giyū replies.

The two of them go quiet for a moment, and Giyū realizes that Sabito still hasn’t released his hands yet. Giyū starts to pull away, and Sabito tightens his grip in what seems to be an instinctual response, before he relaxes it again. His touch lingers, though, and it makes Giyū’s fingers tingle, warm from the contact and cold from its loss all at once.

“Come with me later,” Sabito says, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. “To look at the azaleas.”

Giyū hesitates for a moment.

And then nods.

---

“Trouble in paradise already?” Uzui asks.

Giyū looks up from his cup of plum wine. They’re drinking at the Sound Pillar Estate today, because apparently Uzui’s wives are having a ‘girls’ night’ and somehow, Giyū’s become a person Uzui calls on when he needs someone to hang out with.

Giyū never had someone to go drinking with in his past life. It’s a bit of a strange feeling.

“You know, I thought the honeymoon phase would last longer, considering how excited you were for him to come home,” Uzui continues, reaching over to grab the bottle of plum wine. Giyū blinks as he realizes that Uzui’s cup has gone empty, but he doesn’t have long to feel bad about not refilling it before Uzui continues with, “Is he bad in bed or something?”

Giyū nearly chokes on his wine, and feels his cheeks flush.

“Sabito wants to court Makomo properly,” Giyū says, once he’s cleared his throat, trying very hard to ignore the image that Uzui has put in his head.

“He’s interested in Makomo?” Uzui asks, frowning. He puts down his cup and picks up a pair of chopsticks instead, reaching over to pick some cucumbers off of a nearby plate.

Giyū gives him a blank look, and replies, “Who else would Sabito be interested in?”

“I mean, everyone knows he’s in love with you,” Uzui snorts, popping the cucumber into his mouth. He chews for a moment, swallows, and then adds, “You should tell him if you’re uncomfortable with an open relationship, though.”

It takes Giyū a moment to process what Uzui just said.

“Sabito’s not in love with me,” he replies.

“What?” Uzui says. He's moved on from the cucumbers and is instead trying to cut a piece of tofu in half with his chopsticks.

“Sabito’s in love with Makomo,” Giyū says. Something in his chest feels a little too tight as the words leave his mouth, and he tries to ignore it.

Briefly, he wonders how Uzui would react if he admitted that he’s fallen for Sabito, a character that Uzui made. A character who, in the manga, had never showed even the slightest interest in men, and who instead had had at least three female love interests by the time Giyū had caught up with the serialization.

“Okay, hold up a second,” Uzui says, breaking Giyū from his thoughts. “Why do you think Sabito’s in love with Makomo?”

Why would Sabito not be in love with Makomo?

Something occurs to Giyū.

“Did you intend for Sabito to end up with someone else?” he asks. Sabito and Makomo had seemed like the most obvious endgame pairing when he’d been reading the manga, but he supposes that could be his own biases speaking. They’d been his two favorite characters, after all.

Uzui lets out a loud sigh and reaches for the bottle of plum wine again. Giyū watches as Uzui refills his glass and then downs it just as quickly, before reaching to fill it again.

Then, he says, “I didn’t plan for Sabito to end up with anyone. And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter, because this Sabito is so head over heels for you that I’m pretty sure the entire Corps knows.”

Briefly, Giyū wonders if he’s had too much to drink. He looks down at his cup, and finds that it’s still half-full.

“The only reason he had any love interests at all was because my editor kept pushing for it,” Uzui continues, and Giyū’s gaze shifts back to him. “I wanted to write a gory seinen, you know? But I got picked up by a shōnen publication, and my editor was worried it would be too dark for the target age group, and said I should try to appeal to the genre.” Uzui takes another large gulp from his cup, and adds, “Which is bullshit, because no one was reading for that subplot, and all it did was mess with the direction I wanted to take the plot in.”

Giyū opens his mouth to protest, but then pauses. Now that he thinks about it, he hadn’t actually liked Sabito and Makomo’s romance in the manga, had he? It was tragic, and kind of violent (after Makomo had been turned into a demon), and mostly, it had made him hope that eventually, the two of them would get some peace.

Of course, just because Uzui hadn’t originally intended for Sabito and Makomo to end up together in the manga doesn’t mean that Sabito would somehow fall for him.

 “I haven’t done anything for Sabito,” Giyū says.

Uzui goes quiet for a moment, studying Giyū. It makes Giyū’s skin prickle, and he averts his eyes, staring down into the bottom of his cup.

Finally, Uzui says, “Do you want to know how I planned on ending Sword of Destruction?”

The question makes Giyū look back up at him again, but apparently it was a rhetorical question, because Uzui doesn’t wait for Giyū to answer before continuing.

“So Sabito defeats Muzan and the world is saved from demons,” Uzui explains. He reaches to pour himself more plum wine, and briefly, Giyū wonders if he should comment on Uzui’s drinking pace. “And he was working with his own team at this time, right? But he decides that he should probably notify the Demon Slaying Corps too. Of course, most of the people in the Corps were kind of shitty which was why he left in the first place, but he liked Rengoku well enough, so he goes to see Rengoku.”

In the manga, Sabito and Rengoku had never actually met while Sabito was training at the Water Pillar Estate, but they’d run into each other a few times after Sabito had left the Corps. The arc where Sabito had helped Rengoku defeat an Upper Moon had been one of the most popular, and vaguely, Giyū remembers hearing something about plans for a movie adaptation of that part.

“So he goes to the Rengoku estate,” Uzui continues, a look in his eye that sets Giyū a little on edge, “and finds out that Rengoku is dead.”

It shouldn’t be so much of a surprise, considering how many characters Uzui had killed off in the manga, but it still catches Giyū off guard.

“And at first he assumes it was a demon, because that’s the most likely option, right?” Uzui says. He gestures at Giyū with his cup, and Giyū’s not entirely sure if he’s supposed to answer the question. “But then he finds out from Rengoku’s younger brother that it was their father who killed Rengoku.”

“Rengoku’s father?” Giyū repeats, slowly.

“In my original outline, he was an abusive bastard,” Uzui replies, waving around his cup again. His cheeks have gone a little flushed, but that doesn’t stop him from downing the rest of his wine. “But my editor decided that I should tone it down to fit the publication, so I changed him to a shitty drunk and made the abuse implied instead of explicit.”

“What is he like here?” Giyū asks, frowning. He’d had a few interactions with the younger Rengoku when he’d first ended up here, but Rengoku had seemed to dislike him even more than Shinazugawa did, although he wasn’t as vocal about it.

He’s not sure he likes what that implies. The original Tomioka did mistreat his students, after all.

“He's a drunk with a sharp tongue,” Uzui snorts. He goes to take another drink from his cup, but then seems to realize the awkwardness of the action with the subject matter, and sets it back down on the table. “I’ve tried to get Rengoku to move out, but he doesn’t want to just leave his dad to fend for himself, which is admirable I guess, but…”

Uzui trails off, staring off into space for a moment.

“If you’ve got any solutions, I’d love to hear them,” Uzui finally says, his tone more bitter than Giyū’s ever heard it. “Or you could come with me next time I go over to force-feed that old bastard something non-liquid. He knows by now that I won’t let him get away with the same shit his sons do.”

Giyū hesitates, then says, “I don’t know much about alcoholism.”

The two of them go quiet for a moment. Uzui picks up his cup, but then puts it down again, instead going for his chopsticks.

“What were we talking about again?” Uzui asks, popping some pickled daikon into his mouth.

“The end of the manga,” Giyū answers.

“Right,” Uzui replies. “So Sabito finds out that Rengoku was killed by his father. And up until now, Sabito’s gotten kind of accustomed to an eye for an eye sort of justice, because demons are evil because they kill people, and the only way to stop them is by killing them, right? So he’s fully ready to kill Rengoku’s dad. But.”

Uzui pauses, and Giyū waits for him to continue.

“But he can’t just go around killing humans,” Uzui finally says. “Humans are different.” Uzui picks up a bowl of rice and stabs his chopsticks into it, picking up a chunk. “And then he remembers what happened with Tomioka years before, and he has this realization. Killing Muzan hasn’t really changed anything because humans can be just as bad as demons.”

Silence falls over them again, Uzui staring down at his rice a little blankly, clearly lost in thought.

“The end,” Uzui says, shaking himself out of his trance. “Sabito loses the sense of justice that had driven him through the entire story and realizes it was all just his own ego.”

That seems like a… bleak ending. And definitely not what Giyū had been expecting. Sure, Sword of Destruction had been darker than most of the other popular shōnen manga, and he’d heard that the author had originally wanted it to be a seinen manga, but he’d assumed it would have a bitter-sweet ending, even if most of the characters died along the way.

He can’t say he knows Uzui that well, although they’ve gotten closer over the past year, but it’s hard to imagine Uzui writing something like that. Then again, he vaguely remembers Uzui saying something about being in a ‘dark place’ when he’d started writing the manga.

“We can change it.”

Uzui blinks at Giyū, looking a little caught off guard.

“The ending,” Giyū clarifies, his voice steady and firm.

A small smile tugs at the corners of Uzui’s mouth, his expression softening, and he says, “You already have.”

Giyū’s forehead creases.

“The catalyst for this whole thing was the original Tomioka teaching Sabito that humans can be evil,” Uzui explains. “Instead, you taught him that demons can be good. That’s why he’s in love with you.” A pause and then, “Also he’s just kind of weird.”

“Sabito’s not weird,” Giyū says, frowning slightly.

“I made Sabito,” Uzui retorts, waving a hand Giyū. “If anyone can call him weird, it’s me.”

Giyū supposes he can’t argue with that.

The rest of what Uzui said sinks in, and he says, “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything,” Uzui snorts, his smile going wider. It looks much more natural on his face than the serious, somewhat blank expression from earlier did. He holds up a hand and starts counting off on his fingers, “Makomo’s not a demon. Shinazugawa’s not dead. Shinazugawa actually kind of likes you. Kochō also kind of likes you. Sabito’s way overpowered for this point in the story. And also he’s head over heels in love with you.”

“Sabito’s not in love with me,” Giyū mutters. He fiddles with his cup, trying to ignore the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh huh,” Uzui says, sounding entirely unconvinced. “Is Makomo as overprotective of you as he is?”

Giyū frowns.

“Does she make you breakfast every morning?” Uzui continues, propping his elbow up on the table and resting his cheek against his palm. “Does she bring you homemade sweets? Does she get into your personal space all the time? Is she constantly talking to everyone who will listen about how great you are?”

Well. Maybe Sabito has been… affectionate, recently.

Giyū hesitates, then says, “Sabito asked for permission to court Makomo.”

“Did he?” Uzui asks, his eyebrows rising up towards his hairline. “Those exact words?”

Giyū pauses for a moment, trying to remember how exactly Sabito had phrased it. Surely that’s what Sabito had meant, though, wasn’t it?

“You know what, how about you ask him if he’s in love with Makomo?” Uzui suggests, and there’s that grin again, just on the wrong side of sly. “If he asked you for permission to court Makomo, you have a right to ask, right?”

“The only permission he needs is Makomo’s,” Giyū says, his mouth slanting down into a frown.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Uzui replies, waving a hand vaguely in Giyū’s direction. “But you can still ask.”

Well.

Even if he already knows the answer, he supposes it wouldn’t hurt anything to confirm. Maybe it’ll be enough to crush this uncomfortable, too-tight feeling in his chest.

---

Uzui smiles like a fox that’s just found its next meal.

Sabito resists the urge to glower back.

Objectively, he knows that Uzui is probably a decent person, but it seems like every time he sees Uzui, it’s because Uzui’s decided to drink Tomioka under the table. According to Makomo, Uzui helped out Tomioka a lot while he was away training on Sagiri Mountain, so he knows he should be grateful, but in some ways, that just makes Uzui even more of a rival.

“Oi, Tomioka,” Uzui says. “Your lover-boy is here.”

Sabito scowls. It also doesn’t help that sometimes Uzui uses word and phrases that no one but he and Tomioka seem to understand. He still hasn’t been able to figure out what a ‘stan’ is, and why Uzui had called Tomioka a ‘Sabito stan.’ Maybe it’s some obscure dialect?

“Sabito?”

Sabito’s broken out of his thoughts by Tomioka’s voice.

“Tomioka-se – ” he starts, but then cuts himself off. “Tomioka.”

“Why are you here?” Tomioka asks, frowning slightly. His cheeks are a little flushed, but it’s clear he’s not nearly as drunk as the last few times Sabito had come to pick him up from the Sound Pillar Estate.

“I called him,” Uzui says, scraping the last of the rice out of his bowl. “Figured you two could talk on the way back.”

Uzui gives Tomioka a look that Sabito can’t interpret, and Tomioka’s frown deepens.

For a moment, the two of them eye each other, but finally Tomioka pushes himself to his feet. He turns towards Sabito but then pauses, glancing back at Uzui. He studies Uzui, and then says, “Will you be alright?”

Uzui blinks at him, looking caught off guard, but then smiles, softer than before.

“I’ve got three beautiful wives to comfort me,” Uzui says with a laugh. “Don’t worry about me.”

Tomioka hesitates for another beat, but then nods and turns to leave. Sabito follows a step behind him.

It’s not until they’re out of the Estate that either of them speaks again.

“I’m sorry,” Tomioka says, a little abruptly.

“For what?” Sabito asks, frowning. It’s dark enough at this hour that he can’t make out Tomioka’s expression.

“There was no need for you to come pick me up,” Tomioka replies.

It’s obvious from Tomioka’s gait that he’s not drunk. He’s not even clingy in the way he sometimes gets after a few too many cups of sake, so although he’s clearly been drinking, he can’t be more than a little buzzed.

Sabito hesitates, and then adjusts his pace to walk beside Tomioka, instead of behind him. He steals a glance at Tomioka and says, “I don’t mind having an excuse to take a walk with you.” He looks up at the sky and adds, “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

Tomioka goes quiet for a moment, but Sabito can feel Tomioka’s eyes on him.

“Are you in love with Makomo?” Tomioka asks.

Sabito nearly trips over his own feet.

“No!” Sabito blurts out, looking over at Tomioka. “Makomo and I are just – ” Realization dawns. “Did Uzui say something to you? Because it’s his business if he has three wives, but I don’t think I could – ” He flushes, suddenly embarrassed to admit this. “I don’t think I could share you.”

The two of them go silent for a moment.

“Is that,” Sabito asks, a little haltingly, “not what you want?”

He steals another glance at Tomioka, but between the darkness and Tomioka’s generally limited range of expression, he can’t read anything from it.

He supposes if it was Makomo, maybe he could be alright with Tomioka being in more than one relationship. As much as he loves Makomo, though, it doesn’t feel anything like what he feels for Tomioka, and he doubts he could call it romantic. Still, he could probably stomach it more easily than if it were Uzui, or Kochō, or Shinazugawa.

Especially Shinazugawa.

“I see,” Tomioka says, breaking Sabito from his thoughts. A pause, and then, “Are you in love with me?”

The question catches Sabito off guard.

“Of course I am!” Sabito blurts out, the words leaving his mouth before his brain even registers them. “I may not be open-mined enough to be willing to – ” He falters. “ – to be open to other relationships, but – ”

“Why?”

Sabito blinks at Tomioka.

“I have discovered,” Sabito starts a little haltingly, “that I can be a rather jealous person. I know that it is not a pleasant trait, and I have been trying my best to understand and work through my emotions, but – ”

“Why are you in love with me?” Tomioka interrupts.

Sabito blinks at him.

“Why am I in love with you?” Sabito repeats.

Tomioka hesitates, and then says, “I am not the sort of person you should be in love with. There are much better people for you to choose from.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Sabito huffs, his mouth twisting down into a scowl. “You have many more good qualities than you give yourself credit for.”

“Sabito – ” Tomioka starts.

“Do you think my judgement is so poor?” Sabito demands, before Tomioka can start on another bout of self-deprecation. “Do you think I would fall for just anyone, if they had a handsome enough face?”

Tomioka blinks at him, looking caught off guard.

Briefly, Sabito hesitates, but then he reaches forward to take one of Tomioka’s hands, bringing it up to hold between his own.

“I love you because you are strong,” Sabito says, his gaze steady as he looks at Tomioka. Before Tomioka can attempt to protest, he adds, “Shinazugawa-san wouldn’t bother training with you if you weren’t. And we wouldn’t have survived that Upper Moon either.”

It’s hard to tell if Tomioka is convinced, but he at least doesn’t try to argue, instead studying Sabito quietly.

“And I love you because you’re kind,” Sabito continues, growing a little bolder. Tomioka’s palm feels warm between his own. “You saved Tanjirō and his sister even when most other members of the Corps would have killed them, and even after all of the rude things Shinazugawa-san has said to you, you still treat him with respect.”

“Shinazugawa’s hostility didn’t come from nothing,” Tomioka points out.

“Haven’t you done enough to be forgiven?” Sabito huffs, scowling. “You saved his life!”

Tomioka smiles ever so slightly, and asks, “Is there anything else?”

“I – ” Sabito starts, but then cuts himself off. He can feel his face heat, and he resists the urge to break eye contact as he says, “I do also find you attractive.” A pause, and then, “You’re very handsome.”

Tomioka looks at him with wide eyes, and it’s too dark to tell, but Sabito imagines he sees a flush spread over Tomioka’s cheeks.

“I see,” Tomioka says, after a beat.

“Of course, that’s not the primary reason!” Sabito adds quickly. “I would love you no matter what you looked like!”

For a moment, Tomioka’s quiet, but then he says, “So would I.”

Sabito blinks at him.

“I love you too,” Tomioka says. His voice is soft and low, and it sends a shiver down Sabito’s spine.

Sabito almost asks, Are you sure? but he manages to swallow it down before it passes his lips. It would be hypocritical for him to ask a question like that right after lecturing Tomioka for asking the same sort of thing.

Instead, he leans forward and presses his mouth to Tomioka’s.

It’s a chaste kiss. Tomioka’s lips taste like plum wine, but Sabito only gets a hint of it before they break apart again. Even this close, it’s too dark for him to fully appreciate Tomioka’s expression, but he can feel the heat of Tomioka’s body and can hear the way Tomioka’s breath hitches as he presses in close.

He desperately wants to see Tomioka in proper lighting.

“Tomorrow,” Sabito says, his voice dipping low, “when you haven't been drinking, may I kiss you again?”

After all, Tomioka had said he preferred ‘direct’ men.

Tomioka nods.

---

epilogue

---

Giyū likes Asakusa.

It’s bright even after dark, something he hadn’t thought to appreciate before dying and ending up in an approximation of the Taisho era. And although he hadn’t gone to Tokyo often, there’s something comforting about recognizing the landmarks, Sensō-ji and the line of shops leading up to it.

“Giyū.”

Giyū tears his gaze away from the store banners and looks over at Sabito.

“You’re going to get lost if you keep zoning out like that,” Sabito huffs, giving Giyū a disapproving look. He extends a hand towards Giyū and says, “Stick closer to me.”

“I’m not a child,” Giyū replies, frowning slightly.

“Do you want to say that again when we get separated?” Sabito asks, quirking an eyebrow at Giyū. “I’m the one with the map.”

Giyū hesitates, but then takes Sabito’s hand. It would be inconvenient if they were separated, he supposes, and although they can contact each other with their crows, it’s always a bit of a hassle. Not for the first time, he misses cell phones.

“How much farther?” Giyū asks, falling into step next to Sabito. Sabito’s fingers twine with his, and even though they’ve done this dozens of times by now, Giyū can still never quite get used to the feeling.

“Not much,” Sabito says, inspecting the map. Tanjirō had clearly taken time to draw it out neatly, but Giyū can’t make much sense of it. Usually he leaves the navigation up to his crow if he can.

The two of them fall into silence for a moment.

“What are their names again?” Giyū asks, a little abruptly.

“Tamayo and Yushirō,” Sabito answers, checking the letter scrawled out on the other side of the map. “According to Tanjirō, they’ve been trying to treat other newly turned demons, though, so there may be other demons in the estate too.”

Giyū nods in understanding. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at all wary of being invited into a demon’s estate, especially after Uzui had confirmed that he’d never actually intended for Sabito to find a way to turn demons back into humans, but part of him is also… excited, maybe.

They walk for a ways longer, before turning down onto a smaller side-street. It’s much more dimly lit than the main street, with far fewer people, and Giyū starts to slip his hand out of Sabito’s, but instead of releasing his grip, Sabito holds on tighter.

“I’m not going to get lost,” Giyū says, his forehead creasing.

“I know,” Sabito replies, keeping his eyes fixed on the street ahead of them. “I just want to hold your hand.”

Giyū blinks at him, caught off guard.

“Is that,” Sabito asks, stealing a glance at him, “alright?”

Sabito’s face has flushed ever so slightly pink, and Giyū finds himself captivated by it.

“Giyū?” Sabito asks, and Giyū realizes that he hasn’t replied. He manages a small noise of confirmation and squeezes Sabito’s hand back, carefully twining their fingers together again.

The two of them fall into silence for a moment.

“Uzui asked me when our wedding was,” Sabito announces, a little abruptly.

Giyū blinks at him.

“I told him in June,” Sabito adds.

“June?” Giyū repeats.

Sabito’s face goes ever so slightly pink again, and he says, “I can’t let Uzui think he still has a chance at a fourth marriage.”

“Uzui doesn’t want to marry me,” Giyū points out. They’ve passed the last of the shops and are in a residential district now, the streets quiet except for their own voices.

“You can’t know that for sure,” Sabito huffs, uncommonly childish. It makes a smile tug at the corners of Giyū’s mouth. “He’s said before that he thinks you’re – ” Sabito’s face twists up into a complicated expression. “ – cute.”

Giyū’s fairly sure that Uzui means that in the same way that small animals are cute. He’s not entirely sure how to explain that to Sabito, though.

Sabito’s quiet for a moment, but then he glances back at Giyū again and begrudgingly says, “I can tell him the truth when we get back.” A pause, and then, “I’m pretty sure he knows I was lying anyway.”

Giyū hesitates, and then asks, “Do you want to get married?”

“Yes,” Sabito answers, without a beat of hesitation.

“June is in the rainy season,” Giyū says. He lets himself drift close enough to Sabito that their shoulders brush. “Let’s try May.”

“May?” Sabito blurts out, looking at Giyū with wide eyes.

“Or August,” Giyū adds. At the end of the street, he catches sight of a figure, and he frowns as he takes in the reflection of the person’s eyes in the moonlight. He tugs subtly at Sabito’s hand, until Sabito looks over to follow his gaze, and says, “A demon.”

“Are you the Water Pillar?” the demon demands, and briefly, Giyū wonders if the demon heard him. The demon’s eyes are narrowed in suspicion, and he has a scowl to match, but the shade of his hair and the cut of his chin match the description that Tanjirō had written in his letter of one of the demons.

So Giyū says, “I am.”