Chapter Text
Giyuu found himself working alone in the infirmary on a dreary morning on the first day of February in spite of the fact that he was nursing a rather stubborn cold. Many people in the village were sick as well and he worked to fill orders for multiple types of teas. He was grinding herbs in a mortar, with the intention of making a few things in bulk. Warming teas, headache teas, teas to help with fevers or congestion or sore throats.
Tinctures and teas were the order of the day and the work was his favorite kind – methodical, purposeful, and solitary.
He told himself that his motivation for being at the infirmary was to help other people and to protect his family from getting sick, and both things were true. But he also needed a break from the way that his wife and mother-in-law looked at him.
Like he was a bomb that might go off.
It was the last week of his 24th year, and since the beginning of the previous month, Giyuu became more and more aware of their hovering. He understood why they were doing it and he tried to be patient, but his tolerance was wearing thin.
–
Azami thought she was doing a good job of hiding it, and he supposed if he didn’t know his wife so well it might be true. She had a physician’s manner, cool under pressure, and she was certainly capable of schooling her face into a semblance of calm no matter what she felt on the inside. But Giyuu could tell, whenever she stared at him too dispassionately or when she held herself just a bit too still, like she was holding her breath.
Emika was another story. His mother-in-law was a person who liked her freedom and she was popular in the village, often off visiting and dining with friends. When she wasn’t engaged in helping care for her granddaughter or running the household with Azami, she went out, always bringing home new recipes and gossip. But now she hovered around Giyuu bringing him tea and asking him to play shogi. Her attention, normally split among many other people, was suddenly focused almost exclusively on him. Having little memory of his own mother, there was a part of him that was touched, but he also felt a bit smothered.
The only person in the small circle of his immediate family who treated him completely normally was his little daughter Haru, just over a year old, and a beam of light who would hopefully shine brightly long after he was gone no matter when it happened. He reveled in the simplicity of her gaze at him, curious and trusting and pure.
The broader circle of his family was a bit trickier in that the personal stakes for them were existential and not just relational. Giyuu suspected that Nezuko operated as a proxy for Tanjirou in that she sometimes asked gentle, leading questions when it was just the two of them. Giyuu wasn’t sure if Tanjirou’s reluctance to talk to him directly was his worry over looking self-concerned or that it would seem insensitive. Either way Nezuko took the initiative in her sweet, sisterly way that always left him feeling cared for and a little melancholy.
For Sanemi’s part, his approach was to pretend like nothing was happening. Perhaps the events of the previous year had desensitized them to the subject – they both almost died under circumstances unrelated to the mark or demon slaying – and it wouldn’t do either of them too much good to dwell on it. So they carried on in much the same way as always, in an odd state of contented agitation toward one another. But recently, when they sparred, it seemed to Giyuu like Sanemi was actually trying to kill him.
On one such occasion Sanemi took a swing at him with the sword Giyuu had given to him like he was trying to take his head off. Giyuu had deflected it easily enough, because it had been sloppy, but avoiding such attacks against one another was an unspoken rule between them.
“Shinazugawa,” Giyuu warned, as he circled him, staring at him out of the corner of his eye.
“What? Just having a little fun,” Sanemi retorted, though he gave Giyuu a dark look.
Giyuu lunged, slicing the air near enough to Sanemi to make him parry, but not so close that he was in any danger. “You’d leave Haru fatherless for a little fun?” Giyuu asked calmly, as if he hadn’t just attacked Sanemi, turning to circle him in the other direction and regarding him.
“You are such a pain in the ass Tomioka,” Sanemi snarled and he lunged to attack again.
Giyuu could tell things were going to get out of hand, so he disarmed Sanemi, which was easier than it should have been because Sanemi was not thinking clearly.
“That’s enough for today,” Giyuu said tersely.
“Aww come on,” Sanemi barked, but Giyuu was already walking away.
“See you at dinner tomorrow,” Giyuu called over his shoulder.
The murderous intent had increased over the past month to such a degree that Giyuu was almost glad when he came down with the cold.
And then there was the problem of Hoshi, Sanemi’s wife. She made no attempt to hide her concern over the situation and was straightforward in her inquiries about his health.
“Have you been feeling lightheaded or nauseous?” she asked him at least once every other day, her eyes searching his face for signs of what he did not know. When he answered in the negative she would squint her eyes at him as if she was trying to figure out if he was lying – or threatening him if he was – Giyuu wasn’t certain.
On one such occasion Giyuu and Hoshi were standing near the entrance of the house as he had just slid open the door to let her in. She asked her question and Giyuu sighed and said no.
“I’m feeling lightheaded and nauseous,” Azami called out from the kitchen.
“Of course you do, you’re pregnant. So am I. Who cares?” Hoshi retorted harshly, and Giyuu heard Azami laughing softly from the other room but Hoshi's expression did not change one iota. Giyuu suppressed a smile.
She is perfect for Sanemi.
–
He heard a loud knock at the door of the infirmary which he had left shut mostly due to the cold but also to discourage drop ins.
“Yo! Tomioka!”
Giyuu stopped working the pestle and looked over his shoulder toward the door, a strange nostalgia and apprehension washing over him.
“Uzui?” he called faintly, walking toward the door, brushing his hand off on his work haori. He slid it open to find Uzui Tengen standing outside, a large grin spread across his face.
“Ahh Tomioka! I heard a rumor that this village had a former Hashira as their doctor and I thought, how flamboyant! I must see this for myself. I figured it was going to be you and not Shinazugawa. Of the two of you, I imagine he’d have a worse bedside manner, but not by much.”
“I’m not the doctor. My wife is,” Giyuu stated absently, as it was a common misunderstanding that came up frequently enough that the words were nearly a mantra. He stared up at Tengen in mystification, as if he was an apparition. It had been a couple of years since he’d seen the retired Sound Hashira, and although they occasionally corresponded regarding business relating to the Corps and their families, he had the vague sense that they’d both moved on with their lives, happy enough to know that the other lived on.
With that thought, Giyuu was pulled up short and he frowned.
This was no accidental visit.
He sighed, before stepping to the side to allow Tengen into the room. “Please come inside Uzui. Can I make you some tea?”
“That sounds outstanding,” Tengen mused, walking into the infirmary, looking around inquisitively.
Giyuu walked toward the back of the infirmary to the small cook stove so that he could set the teapot to boil. “How is your family?” he called back over his shoulder, thinking Tengen would stay there and wait for him.
“Larger!” Tengen boomed, following Giyuu into the back area, down the corridor past several smaller rooms: secondary examination, surgery, recovery, with the back room serving as a multipurpose area, kitchen, storage, and pharmacy. The corridor was made for normal sized people, so for someone with Tengen’s build, he sometimes had to walk sideways and bend low to accommodate his shoulders and height. When they reached the room, Giyuu turned to find the much larger man crowding him in a space that, for him, was something of a sanctuary. He felt mild irritation, but he kept his face impassive.
“I have five children now! And two more on the way. It is all very flamboyant.”
“Hmm,” Giyuu responded. “Did they travel here with you?”
“Oh no, it is too difficult to travel with the little ones at this time of the year.”
Giyuu leaned back into the counter holding the tea-making supplies, wishing he was still there alone making tea. It was not that he did not want to see Tengen, he just didn’t want to see him now. He didn’t need another person hovering.
Tengen did not allow Giyuu’s silence to deter him. “How are things with you Tomioka? How have you been feeling?”
Giyuu sighed, trying to be patient. “I’m fine –”
“Helloo?? Giyuu-san? Are you back here?” Emika’s voice drifted from the front.
Giyuu felt a thrill of irrational panic, like a drop in pressure right before a storm.
“I’ll be right there Emika-san,” he called, trying to move around Tengen to intercept her before she came all the way to the back. There was an awkward moment when he and Tengen had to shuffle around one another, but before he could make it out of the room, Emika arrived.
Giyuu knew her well, so he caught the momentary look of shock on her face when she first spied Tengen. But she was a woman in full possession of her powers, so she blinked and her countenance arranged itself into calm bemusement.
Giyuu was reminded again that she was one of the most intimidating humans he’d ever met.
Certainly more fearsome than a few demons as well.
“Giyuu-san,” Emika exclaimed with absolute authority. “Who is this young man?”
Giyuu sighed. He was about to answer when Tengen stepped up to Emika, leaving all sense of propriety behind.
“I am Uzui Tengen, a former associate of Tomioka’s. And you are?” Tengen’s voice positively dripped with charm and Giyuu had to fight to not roll his eyes.
“I am Nikaido Emika, Giyuu-san’s mother-in-law. Associate? Shall I take that to mean that you were also a member of the Demon Slayer Corps?” she asked, her voice similarly honeyed and Giyuu’s gaze flicked between them.
Tengen leaned back against a blank piece of wall with his arms crossed in that self-assured way, rising to this full height, whereas Emika turned her back to him as if the answer was of no consequence to her, before turning to look coyly over her shoulder.
Giyuu looked back and forth between the two of them and he was struck by the thought that he might feel awe if he wasn’t so horrified. It was like all semblance of decorum had been set aside without a thought.
Emika was a widow! And what about Tengen’s wives?
“Ah you know about the Demon Slayer Corps? How uncharacteristically flashy of Tomioka to share that bit of information with you.” He threw a dazzling smile at Giyuu, and Giyuu sent a small frown back at him. Tengen continued, “Yes, I am the retired Sound Hashira.”
“Hmm,” Emika intoned.
Giyuu took this opportunity to turn his back and cough, the sound emanating deep and thick from his chest.
“Oh Giyuu-san, you must come home and rest now. You’ve pushed yourself too hard.”
When Giyuu turned back he was surprised to see that Tengen looked slightly unnerved, an expression Giyuu had no memory of ever seeing on the other man’s face, and it softened his irritation, so he tried to allay his fears as best as he could.
“It’s just a cold. Everyone has it right now. That's why I’m here making tea. I need to make deliveries before I come home–”
“Giyuu-san absolutely not. Azami will be worried for you and she is in a delicate condition. Let me take the medicine. I will make the deliveries on your behalf.”
“Ahh - a delicate condition? Congratulations Tomioka! What flamboyant news!” Tengen boomed.
Giyuu managed a small grateful nod before turning to Emika.
“Emika-san, I need to do it. It is getting late and it is dark. I’d feel better if I was the one–” Again he was cut off, this time by Tengen.
“I would be happy to accompany Nikaido-san on the errand. Please go home to your sweet, pregnant wife Tomioka. They require our affection when they are in such a state. I can take it from here.”
Giyuu was about to protest when Emika struck the killing blow.
“Haru is missing you.”
Giyuu could be stubborn and willful, but he was tired and a throbbing ache was setting in behind his eyes. Also, he missed Azami and Haru. After several moments of hesitation he finally nodded his head. He turned and gathered the teas into packets, writing the names of the people who had placed orders on the appropriate ones.
“This one is for Tanaka-san. She didn’t ask for it, but her mother would benefit from it. Please tell her I insist,” Giyuu instructed, trying to impart a warning to Emika in his gaze.
She broke into a smile that showed all her teeth.
“Of course Giyuu-san. Doctor’s orders.”
“You know I’m not the doctor,” he muttered in mild exasperation, closing his eyes and shaking his head, before being ushered to the front of the infirmary, holding his own portions of the various medicinal teas to his chest, coughing softly.
“Go home and rest dear,” Emika said softly. “We’ll be there soon.”
They walked outside into an overcast night that threatened snow. Giyuu turned, prepared to protest one more time, but Tengen was on him before he could say a word.
“Go home and get warm my semi-flamboyant friend. We will be there soon, and I will teach you how to make my famous secret Uzui family remedy for colds.”
Giyuu knew he was beaten and so he nodded, keeping his head down as he turned to walk home. He could hear Emika and Tengen chattering together like particularly loud birds for more than half the walk and he realized in sudden horror that Emika and Tengen’s stroll through the village was going to set the whole neighborhood on fire with gossip.
He stifled a groan.
Azami’s going to kill me.
After what seemed like the longest walk home of his life, he made it into the house, sliding the door closed behind him. He took off his warm outer layer , immediately wishing that he hadn’t as the house felt cold to him.
I need to make tea and rest.
Rest was a necessity now that Tengen was coming to the house.
Azami joined him in the kitchen a few minutes later, Haru slung over one of her hips. The child reached for him immediately and he allowed her to touch his face, grasping at his skin lightly with her tiny fingernails. The look in her eyes warmed his heart and he wanted very badly to reach out and hold her, but he didn’t want to expose her to the cold any more than he already was, so he backed away.
He placed his hand on Azami’s arm, squeezing it lightly, before returning to making his tea.
“What is wrong?” Azami asked. “Wait, where is my mother?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Giyuu sighed.
Azami stared at him quizzically.
“Do you remember me telling you about Uzui Tengen? The retired Sound Hashira.”
Azami nodded, “The one with three wives.”
“He’s here and he is currently accompanying your mother on a few errands to drop off tea to some people in the neighborhood.”
“And this is a problem because?”
Giyuu frowned. It wasn’t really a problem. In his heart he knew that both Emika and Tengen were honorable people and they would never actually do anything truly indecorous. But they would flirt, publicly, because for them it was sport, and it was going to cause a minor uproar.
Maybe everyone was so sick with this cold it will blow over before they are healthy enough to be out and about again?
He was about to respond when the door slid open and in walked Emika and Tengen, laughing and carrying on as if they were old friends.
Azami stared at them, dumbstruck, possibly due in part to the spectacle that was Uzui Tengen, but also at the sight of her mother, laughing good-naturedly, the color high in her cheeks from the cold and conversation.
Haru stared silently, her eyes wide. At first Giyuu thought she’d be shy, but then she reached out a hand, beckoning to Tengen. Surprisingly Tengen approached without hesitation.
“Ahhh, she’s a dazzler. Clearly she favors her mother. Tomioka Azami I presume?” he asked, smoothly turning his gaze to Azami, again bypassing all good manners.
“Uzui Tengen,” Azami intoned, her tone neutral. Giyuu looked at her, and while he could see she was irritated, she projected good humor.
But Tengen was too perceptive.
“Oh Tomioka – such formidable women in your family! I remember you always carried yourself with an air of impertinence. But I never guessed you were so self-assured. How swanky of you.”
Giyuu merely stared and wondered how all of this had come to pass, that Azami and Emika were staring at him with raised eyebrows, and Tengen looking so satisfied with himself standing in his kitchen.
Azami happened to know that Tengen’s statements about Giyuu were in fact the opposite of how he felt when he was the Water Hashira, so she rescued him.
“What brings you to this part of the country, Uzui-san?”
Tengen studied her silently for a few moments, clearly weighing his answer. Giyuu imagined he was wondering how much Azami knew about the mark and what it might mean in the very near future.
“I am here to help celebrate my friend Tomioka’s twenty-fifth birthday of course. I figured he could use a bit of flamboyance in this life.” The tone of his voice was checked in such a way that it was clear he was fishing, and he continued to examine Azami, his expression a finely tuned balance of humor and concern.
Giyuu watched Azami look at Tengen, and something unspoken passed between them, and he saw her soften a little.
“That is very kind of you Uzui-san,” she remarked quietly.
“Of course,” Tengen murmured, and Giyuu didn’t think he’d ever heard the man speak with such gentleness and compassion.
They were all silent for several beats, but before the moment could become too heavy, Emika piped up.
“I told Uzui-san that he could stay with us!”
And all of Giyuu’s gratitude evaporated.
–
As the week crawled by Giyuu’s cold began to resolve, so he started seeing patients again in the infirmary. Azami was in and out to see the more complicated cases, but for the most part she stayed at home. This pregnancy was as difficult as her first had been for Haru, making her so sick that she became weak by midday.
Tengen accompanied Giyuu to the infirmary every day, which he felt rather ambivalent about. On the one hand, leaving Tengen and Emika to their own devices was dangerous to the family’s good name, as she had already brought him to a couple of dinners with her friends, and it was creating a buzz — an impossibly tall and handsome young man accompanying the Nikaido widow on social visits — it was gossip the likes of which the village hadn't had in years.
But having Tengen in the infirmary was also complicated, as his presence tended to draw curious passersby. And due to the crowded nature of the back of the building, Giyuu could’t hide him away back there.
Not that Tengen would let him.
Tengen allowed him to work in peace most of the time, but Giyuu heard him in loud conversation with people as they came in and out of the infirmary throughout the days. It seemed like everyone in the village needed to have a tincture or tea or poultice of some kind, and as Giyuu worked in the back making them, he could hear Tengen’s booming laugh.
At close of business on the third day Giyuu was tidying up, getting things ready for the next day. His cold was mostly gone, but it was still rampant throughout the village, and though it had caused no major issues, it was a concern for the elderly. It was so quiet in the infirmary, that he thought for a moment Tengen had left, so when he started to speak no more than three feet away, it was as if he had materialized on the spot.
“You remind me of her,” Tengen intoned.
Giyuu startled slightly.
Tengen tutted lightly and said something about losing his touch, to which Giyuu just glared at him out of the corner of his eye.
“I remind you of who,” he asked, suppressing irritation.
“Kochou. You remind me of her when you are with them…the patients. You have the same bearing - compassionate, but with authority. Not her smile though,” Tengen chuckled. “But you do have a certain stoic charm.”
Giyuu stared at Tengen cooly but considered his words. After several beats he responded.
“I’m sure I learned some of it from her. When we were in the field and people were injured during demon attacks, I usually assisted her. But…” he trailed off, concerned that what he was about to say would be misinterpreted.
“What Tomioka?”
“I learned it from Azami as well. I think physicians - good ones - have a similar bedside manner.”
Tengen eyed Giyuu, and he felt anxious that a comparison between the two women was going to be drawn that made him uncomfortable and he did not want to discuss, but Tengen mercifully let it drop.
“Hinatsuru was often sick during her pregnancies. Let me make you another famous Uzui family remedy for Azami.”
Giyuu looked at Tengen, remembering that his famous remedy for the cold had been nothing more than a lot of warm sake, but he stepped aside. Tengen looked through the inventory of the pharmacy and proceeded to pull ingredients together on the work table. Giyuu watched all of it intently, at first out of concern for Azami, but then because it was clear to him that this was in fact something novel and clever.
“I imagine that if things had gone differently after the battle, if more Hashira had been left standing, Kochou in particular, you might still be in the same business, just somewhere else.”
Giyuu sighed.
“Uzui…” Giyuu began, prepared to begin the same argument he always had with Sanemi, but one look at Tengen’s face made him pause. He looked thoughtful, a brow lifted in curiosity, though not in Sanemi’s insinuating way. Tengen was different, and he was also one of the few people still around who knew Shinobu.
Giyuu considered his words carefully before speaking.
“What do you think was going on between Kochou and I?” he asked boldly.
Tengen chuckled under his breath.
“Not the things that people like Shinazugawa or Iguro prattled on about, of that you can be sure. The two of you weren’t frivolous and therefore not capable of such ignoble behavior,” he mused. “No, I imagine that the dance that happened between the two of you was much more subtle and complex. I know you’ll never tell me if anything happened because you are a respectable man and she was a fellow Hashira. It’s a shame that we’ll never know what might have been.”
Tengen looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing, his voice brightening a little.
“But then it’s not truly a shame, because Kochou died honorably, avenging her sister by killing an Upper Moon. And you have this flamboyant life with Azami-san and your beautiful little Haru. Isn’t life interesting?”
Giyuu was taken aback by Tengen’s analysis.
“Yes,” he murmured, and he was going to let it go at that, but then he continued. “Kochou was…capricious. I didn’t always understand her. There were things…” he trailed off, deciding to keep the thought to himself. “Mostly, we were too busy trying to survive.”
“Potential for romance is the most exciting part…well almost the most exciting part, right Tomioka?” Tengen smirked, waggling his brow at Giyuu which made him frown and look away.
“Things were exciting enough with the demon slaying,” he mumbled, turning away further to hide the blush that he knew had crept up his cheeks.
“That’s the problem with serious people like you Tomioka! Always focused on objectives and never enough time to enjoy the simple things. Or the big ones for that matter, which is why I am throwing you a flamboyant birthday party in a couple of days.”
Giyuu sputtered, about to mount a protest, but Tengen turned and clapped his hand down hard on his shoulder.
“There is no need to thank me! And everyone is coming. They are all very excited to be together to celebrate the life of Tomioka Giyuu! Emika-san has it all planned. It is going to be very flashy.”
Tengen slapped the envelope of medicine for Azami to Giyuu’s chest, forcing Giyuu to reach up to grasp it, and he was left standing in the back of the infirmary, feeling panicked dread, as Tengen made his way to the front, humming loudly to himself as he went.
–
Giyuu woke up on the morning of his twenty-fifth birthday with a feeling of detachment. He wasn’t sure what he expected he’d feel upon waking, but since he hadn’t died during the night he chose to take it as a good sign and forced it to the back of his mind. He looked at Azami sleeping soundly on her futon next to him, Haru pushed flush to her side, snoring lightly. If this was to be his last day, waking up next to them was more than he could have ever hoped for. He got up and left them to sleep, going through the motions of his morning mechanically. He walked out onto the engawa thinking he might try to meditate.
“Ah Tomioka,” Tengen boomed, sitting outside drinking a cup of tea. The air was cold but the sky was clear and bright.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
Giyuu regarded him quietly for a few moments before he shook his head noncommittally.
“Hmm. Well, it is going to be a flashy and flamboyant evening. Perhaps you should rest today…save your energy.”
Giyuu winced slightly before rearranging his face to appear nonplussed.
“I’m going to have breakfast with Azami and Haru, and then go to the infirmary for a couple of hours. Make sure things are settled.” He left his reasons for feeling the need to set the infirmary in order unspoken.
“So committed,” Tengen reflected. “In some ways you have changed so much, and in others not at all.” He turned to look at Giyuu, humor playing on his features.
“I want to hear all about Giyuu-san from his time in the Corps,” Emika said, emerging from the house to stand next to him. “I am always so curious. I know better than to believe anything Shinazugawa-san has to say, and Tanjirou-kun and Nezuko-chan are too polite to tell me a thing.”
“He was terribly serious all the time,” Tengen began without hesitation. “Some believed he was very arrogant. My impression was that he was a young man who had an attitude because he had a lot on his mind. Sound about right, Tomioka?”
Giyuu just looked at him.
“See what I mean?” Tengen remarked with a grin, looking at Emika.
“Hmm, yes. He was in similar form when we first met. Although, I rather got the impression that he was a bit melancholy.”
“I imagine you are correct. The final battle took a heavy toll on us all. Some more than others,” Tengen intoned.
Giyuu grew tired of being discussed as if he wasn’t standing right there.
“I’m going to check on Azami and Haru. Do either of you require breakfast?”
They both answered in the negative, so Giyuu made a swift goodbye and left, hoping they would leave the subject of him behind once he was gone, but he doubted that wish would be fulfilled.
–
Giyuu moved throughout his day trying not to give too much thought to the particulars of whether or not it was going to be his last, or even if it could happen at any given moment, which he imagined was a possibility. It was all vaguely too visceral and scary while also being too surreal and wasteful of time to be focused on, so he set it aside and pressed his mind to the various tasks of the day. Though he spent much of it physically at the infirmary, he ended up not doing much work while being there.
Azami and Haru remained with him throughout the day, Azami often with her hand resting gently on his arm or neck, Giyuu staring softly at Haru as she toddled around the infirmary. At one point they all fell asleep together on the hospital cot in the recovery room and Giyuu woke up first, enjoying the sensation of waking from a midday nap, Azami warm in his arm, the length of her body draped over him in a way that was protective, fingers gripped tightly into this clothing. Haru had settled on his chest, pressed close to her mother, their foreheads nearly touching. He watched them while they slept.
If it came to it - this would be enough.
Later, when they returned home from the infirmary in the afternoon, Giyuu was pleasantly surprised to see that there were not too many people at their house. There were way more people there than he wanted there to be, but knowing Tengen’s propensity for spectacle, he knew it could have been much worse.
Tanjirou was there with Kanao, and Nezuko with Zenitzu along with all of their children.
Aoi had traveled from the Butterfly Mansion for the occasion as she and Inosuke had been courting one another for quite some time. Emika stalked them frequently as she felt it was her duty to secure a marriage arrangement between them.
Sanemi and Hoshi were there with their family, including Enishi, their son who was just barely two years old, who was always particularly fascinated by Haru in a way that made Giyuu fear for a future where he did survive into middle adulthood and have a daughter of marriageable age.
The surprise was that Urokodaki had made the trip for the party, something that had been planned by Tanjirou and Tengen with great attention to detail. This touched Giyuu more than he could put into words.
“It is how they got me to go along with it,” Azami admitted to him as they sat eating salmon daikon. “When talk of all this started I said a firm no, but then they said they’d bring Urokodaki-san…and I just knew it would make you so happy.”
Giyuu smiled at her, mostly because of Urokodaki being there, but also because of the salmon.
He watched Urokodaki and Emika chatting together. He was too far away to hear them and of course he could not see his face due to the tengu mask, but whatever he was saying seemed to have charmed Emika greatly, as she tipped her head back and laughed sweetly. Giyuu frowned but Azami put her hand on Giyuu’s arm reassuringly.
“I promise you Giyuu, my mother isn’t trying to seduce Urokodaki-san or Uzui-san. She is simply enjoying the attention and company. It has always been her way.”
“Hmm,” Giyuu intoned, unsure, and he continued to look at Emika. She seemed to feel his stare and her eyes met his. She smiled at him sincerely and unselfconsciously, a smile that held nothing but warmth and light, and he felt chastened, as he was struck by such a wave of gratitude for her that he smiled back, and all concern over her flirtatious eccentricities fled his mind.
For the evening anyway.
The time passed quickly and Giyuu found the company of his friends and family enjoyable. The only time he truly looked for an escape was when Zenitzu and Inosuke started an argument over the worthiness of giving pinecones as gifts. But other than that there was a sense of lightheartedness and calm that suffused the night like sweet incense, and everyone’s faces were bathed in soft light as they laughed and reminisced and expressed their hopes for the future. Before Giyuu realized it midnight had come and gone and he had passed the alleged limit of the mark’s curse with little more damage than what would likely be a small hangover the next morning.
Very late into the night, he sat with Sanemi on the engawa. Most people had either gone home or retired to their respective guest futons.
Sanemi took a breath to speak but then held it, seeming wary, before he spoke in a gentle tone Giyuu didn’t recognize. “For what it’s worth I tried to tell Uzui not to do it. I knew you’d hate it, and as much as I enjoy watching you twist sometimes, I figured if it was possibly your last day…well, I know I’d want to spend it my own way.”
Giyuu regarded him silently, touched that Sanemi would speak out on his behalf for any reason. But then he supposed that Sanemi understood better than anyone the stakes of the day.
“I hated the idea of it,” Giyuu admitted. “But if it had been the last day, it would have been hard for Azami and Emika to bear alone. With everyone here they would have had support. For that I’m grateful and indebted to Uzui.” Giyuu sighed. “And it was a nice party, as far as such things go.”
“That’s just the sake talking,” Sanemi remarked, and Giyuu chuckled.
They were silent for a few minutes, gazing out into the night.
“So do you think this means that the curse of the mark is just a myth?” Sanemi asked.
Giyuu looked at him. Sanemi’s face betrayed nothing – not concern nor hope.
“Maybe. Ask me in a week, or a month, or next year.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought the same fucking thing,” Sanemi muttered, looking out into the dark.
Tengen joined them on the engawa.
“Oi! You’ll come back to throw me a birthday party, right Uzui? I’ve never celebrated a birthday and I think it’s about damn time I did,” Sanemi pronounced.
“Of course, of course Shinazugawa! However, I have to tell you that it will have to be something really flamboyant. I was working under a lot of constraints this time what with the circumstances and uhh ....” He trailed off, looking Giyuu up and down a few times before finishing. “The low-level of flashiness I was likely to inspire in our dear friend Tomioka here.”
Sanemi laughed and Giyuu smiled in spite of himself.
“Fireworks and music and dancing and true spectacle…that is what we will do for your birthday. Yes?” Tengen asked, a maniacal light in his eye.
Giyuu struggled to figure out what ‘true spectacle’ might look like and decided it was probably something his brain wasn’t made to envision.
“Hell, yes!” Sanemi barked.
“So was it as bad as you thought it was going to be, Tomioka?” Tengen asked, seeming genuinely curious.
Giyuu thought about it for a moment before saying softly, “It was actually perfect, Uzui. Thank you.”
“Ahh! You’ve turned a corner Tomioka. A step toward becoming quite flashy! And also a doctor! Your flamboyance is transcendent,” Tengen teased.
“Hmm,” Giyuu mused, thinking the idea of him being flashy or flamboyant was the last thing he would ever be. “I keep telling you, I’m not the doctor. My–”
Tengen cut him off. “I know, I know…your wife is! But I like the story of a Hashira doctor – it has panache. It gives you style.”
“Ha! Style? Tomioka?” Sanemi snorted. “That is not a thing that is fucking happening.”
Giyuu stared at Sanemi before he remarked drily, “What do you know about style, Shinazugawa? Being an ass isn’t flamboyant, it’s just annoying.”
Tengen burst out laughing, and then Sanemi joined him with something that sounded like a cackle. Giyuu smiled and chuckled lightly.
It turned out to be a very good birthday after all.