Archive of Our Own

The first time Giyu met Kyojuro was the first Hashira meeting he ever attended.

Giyu felt deeply unsettled as he joined the meeting. He should be any place but there, with the pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps, the backbone of their organization. He understood that they desperately needed to fill the ranks, and he’d serve as a placeholder since he was needed as such, but it didn’t stop him from lingering at the edge of the group.

There were technically five Hashira, not counting himself—Gyomei Himejima, the Stone Hashira; Tengen Uzui, the Sound Hashira; Kanae Kocho, the Flower Hashira; Hanzo Tanaka, the Wind Hashira; and Shinjuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira.

There were nine total spots, meaning that there were currently three empty seats in the ranks of the Hashira. The remaining Hashira were forced to work themselves to the brink to cover the territory those three Hashira typically covered, and it was these circumstances that ultimately forced Giyu to accept his position as a placeholder Water Hashira.

The Water Style was by far the most common of the breathing techniques, being the easiest to learn if not somewhat difficult to fully master. That being the case, Giyu was sure it was only a matter of time before someone came along who knew the style better than him, and he would gladly let them fill their rightful seat when that happened.

Unfortunately, now that he was at the meeting, it almost seemed as though there were four empty seats instead of three.

Ubuyashiki had described each of the Hashira in detail when he spoke with Giyu, so it wasn’t hard to figure out who was who. That left… Shinjuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira, as the only one who had yet to arrive for the semi-annual Hashira meeting.

“Is he ditching again?” Uzui huffed, looking annoyed.

Himejima muttered something that must be a mantra, before saying, “Rengoku has long shirked his duties. He is all but retired.”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to speak with him,” Kocho said softly. “I suspect he will not be coming.”

Tanaka said nothing, and neither did Giyu. Both of them had been promoted recently in a desperate bid to fill empty slots, so neither of them had enough experience with this topic to provide any comment.

That was when another party chose to arrive at the scene.

A boy with striking blond hair that faded to red at the tips strode into Ubuyashiki’s garden. He wore a plain white haori over his uniform, with fresh bandages peeking out from beneath the uniform on one arm. He was young, maybe a year or so younger than Giyu, but it seemed he had just returned from a mission. An incredibly nervous looking kakushi followed on his heels.

Was this the Flame Hashira, then?

Uzui groaned. “Did he really send you in his place again?”

The kakushi started to gesture, but the boy spoke before he could.

“I apologize!” the boy announced, the volume of his voice nearly causing Giyu to startle out of his constant concentration breathing, “I was unable to convince my father to attend! I have come to apologize on his behalf, and for my own failings in convincing him!”

So this was… the Flame Hashira’ son? Not the Flame Hashira?

“Thank you for coming, Kyojuro,” Kocho said. “I have to say though, you don’t have to apologize on your father’s behalf all the time. His faults are not your responsibility.”

The boy—Kyojuro—stared at her as she spoke, but no sign of recognition until he glanced down to the gestures the kakushi who had followed him in was making. Giyu was confused for a moment before he realized that Kyojuro was likely deaf, and the kakushi had followed him to translate using sign language.

“Thank you, Lady Kocho!” he responded. “But I insist! I will preserve until either my father comes or I am able to replace him!”

“What happened to your hearing, Kyojuro?” Uzui suddenly asked, obviously coming to the same conclusion that Giyu had.

It took Kyojuro a moment to be able to respond, but when he did, he said in his usual volume, “There was a demon that confused the body with its flute! I burst my eardrums to defeat it!”

“Oh? Sounds flashy.” Uzui grinned. “What’s your rank right now? Kanoto?”

A pause to allow the kakushi to translate for Kyojuro, and then, “Tsuchinoto, as of my last mission!”

“You’re on your way up, then! Hurry up, we need more Hashira.” Uzui’s words seemed demanding, but his tone was light. He obviously meant it as congratulations for Kyojuro’s recent victory and subsequent promotion, though it was true that they desperately needed Hashira.

Giyu absently wondered why Ubuyashiki chose to promote someone like him to Hashira instead of Kyojuro. He seemed far more suited to the role, to the point where even someone like Uzui seemed to see his ascension to Hashira as only a matter of time.

If it was just a matter of time, then they should just go ahead and promote him instead of Giyu.

“Thank you for your encouragement! I will do my best!”

Giyu winced again at the boom of Kyojuro’s voice, but he supposed volume control wasn’t exactly easy when you couldn’t hear anything.

Before they got much of a chance to continue talking, a hush fell over everyone as Ubuyashiki entered the garden through his home. Giyu immediately fell to his knees in a bow, following the lead of the Hashira.

“Good afternoon. The weather is nice today,” he said, his voice a comforting melody. He then turned, his gaze falling on the only apparently unexpected party. “Kyojuro, thank you for coming today. How is your father?”

The kakushi recently pulled himself up from his bow and tapped on Kyojuro’s shoulder to prompt him to do the same. He signed quickly with nervous, choppy movements to convey Ubuyashiki’s words to Kyojuro. His face fell towards the end of the message, and he quickly bowed again to Ubuyashiki.

“I am afraid my father’s condition is unchanged! I apologize for his absence!”

“Raise your head, Kyojuro.”

Ubuyashiki waited for the kakushi to tap Kyojuro’s shoulder again. Instead of waiting for the kakushi to finish translating, however, Ubuyashiki continued speaking, and this time, he accompanied his own words with signs.

“Your courage in coming here on your father’s behalf is to be commended. I hope you recover quickly, Kyojuro, and good luck in battle. You are dismissed.”

Kyojuro’s eyes shone. “Thank you, Oyakata!”

With that, he and the kakushi quickly departed.

Ubuyashiki turned to the Hashira (and Giyu) and said, “Thank you for waiting, my beloved children. I know our ranks are thin, and the work you’ve done to cover the empty seats is something I am deeply grateful for. Giyu, a practitioner of Water Breathing, and Hanzo, a practitioner of Wind Breathing, have joined the ranks of the Hashira to help fill the empty seats. Please treat them both well. Now… Let us begin our semi-annual Hashira meeting.”

-/-/-

Giyu was given an estate.

An estate.

For a placeholder Hashira.

It was a few days after the semi-annual Hashira meeting and a few weeks after he was first promoted. Ubuyashiki had actually apologized to Giyu for the delay in informing him of his inheritance of the Estate, which had apparently belonged to another departed Hashira. The apology had left Giyu silently mortified.

And so now, he sat in an empty estate.

There was little present. Giyu had moved his futon and other scarce belongings into one of the many rooms, but otherwise, he had nothing else to fill it with. He supposed he could get things, but…

This would be someone else’s soon enough. As soon as they found a suitable replacement for Giyu, this should belong to them, not him. So furnishing or decorating the manor seemed pointless.

However, the manor had come with a library, which was about the only furnishing it came with. It was more of a records room than a library, with scrolls haphazardly piled on various shelves and books equally unorganized. Giyu had little time to go through it, having been sent on a mission almost the day after he had “moved in,” but he had some time a few days later in a rare reprieve from missions and patrolling.

He stared at the records room, wondering if he should bother. Normally, he would just leave it be, but there was something he was curious about.

Demon slayers losing their hearing must be a common occurrence. If Ubuyashiki and various kakushi knew it, then it must be relatively common amongst the corps members. He could also see strategic value in it, as being able to communicate in battle without words could prove invaluable when adapting to unexpected circumstances.

Giyu told himself it had little to do with Kyojuro and the impression the boy had left on him. He told himself it had nothing to do with the way his strong personality and self-sacrificing nature reminded him of someone else. He ignored the way his eyes lingered more often on the geometric green of his haori.

He quietly went up and down the aisles of the records room, scanning each of the visible titles and shifting the piles to try and read the ones where they weren’t visible. Some of the scrolls and books weren’t so much as labeled, and when Giyu opened them, he found hand-written notes from either departed or retired corps members. Some of the books looked fairly old—this manor must have been used by many Hashira and their Tsuguko over the past few centuries.

Unfortunately, none of these records held the information Giyu was interested in, so he moved on.

He finally found what he was looking for after an hour of searching. It was a fairly thick book, but the binding looked new, so it must have been a more recent addition to the collection. Giyu flipped through it to determine how useful it would be, and it contained neat pictures with clear descriptions.

He tucked the book under one arm and left the records room, keen on neither disturbing it more than necessary nor adding anything to it. It would be left sealed until its rightful owner, someone who wasn’t Giyu, came.

Meanwhile, Giyu settled into his room and sat on his single futon, intent on using as much of his off-time as he could going through the book.

-/-/-

“Mission! New Mission! South-southwest!” Kanzaburo’s screeches stirred Giyu from his rest. “South-southwest! A demon has been sighted in Setagaya! South-southwest!”

Giyu stood and dressed quickly, not bothering to put up his futon before heading out the door. He started mentally mapping his route, with Kanzaburo echoing the mission behind him and following at a sluggish speed.

“...Setagaya is to the Northeast,” he mumbered to himself, frowning. Kanzaburo was really starting to worry him. This wasn’t the first time that Kanzaburo had messed up messages; there was one time while Giyu was still a Kanoe where Kanzaburo had sent him to the wrong region entirely, and someone else had to be sent in Giyu’s stead.

Giyu didn’t have the heart to request a new kasugai crow, however. He wasn’t sure what happened when kasugai crows became too old to perform their duties—he doubted anything cruel, knowing Ubuyashiki—or if Kanzaburo would simply be transferred to another demon slayer who wouldn’t look out for the old guy, but Giyu didn’t want to chance it.

Giyu arrived at a town a few hours before dusk, having relied on a combination of Kanzaburo’s guidance and the map he’d taken to carrying in case the crow’s directions ever started to seem too nonsensical.

“The Flame Hashira was also summoned! Meet at the bakery next to the river!” Kanzaburo called, once the town came into sight. He settled on a nearby wall heavily, clearly tired from the trip. Giyu decided to let him rest—he was good at keeping himself hidden from demons, so he would hide himself once the sun set.

He walked the street next to the river, but there didn’t appear to be any bakeries he could see. He continued walking the road until he reached the edge of town. There wouldn’t be a bakery set up away from town, would there? That didn’t make sense.

It was more likely Kanzaburo got the details of the meeting place wrong. Either they were supposed to meet at a bakery that wasn’t next to the river, or they were meant to meet at another type of establishment next to the river. It would be difficult to determine which.

In cases like this, Giyu knew exactly what to do.

He would wander until someone wearing a demon corps uniform started yelling at him for being so late.

They still had several hours before sundown, so they had time before the demon would become active. Giyu started back down the river road, intent on briefly checking the establishments along it for the Flame Hashira he was supposed to be meeting.

Surprisingly, he didn’t have to look long.

“Delicious!”

Giyu paused. He recognized that voice, and that volume. But… He was supposed to be meeting the Flame Hashira, wasn’t he? Had he simply confused their voices for one another, since they were apparently father and son?

“Delicious!”

…No, that was definitely Kyojuro.

Giyu kept his face neutral as he stepped into the cafe. His ears didn’t lie; Kyojuro sat at one of the tables, each bite of food drawing a loud outburst from him declaring the food delicious. This earned him stares from the rest of the patrons, and the owner looked like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to.

Giyu, unfazed, sat across from Kyojuro. “You’re not the Flame Hashira.”

“Deli—Tomioka! Hello!” Kyoujuro greeted him brightly, setting aside his pastry to focus his full attention on Giyu. “I apologize for my father’s absence! I happened to be present when his kasugai crow tried to deliver a mission, so I took it upon myself to come since he refused.”

Giyu frowned. Recalling Kyojuro’s hearing loss, he signed his next words instead of speaking them. ‘You’re not a Hashira. Can you take on the missions of one?’

If Koyjuro was surprised that Giyu knew sign language, he didn’t show it. Giyu could only hope that he didn’t mess anything up. The knowledge was still very recent, and Giyu had simply taught himself from the book he’d found on it in the manor’s records room. He hadn’t had the chance to put the skill to practical use yet.

“I understand your concern, but fear not! I intend to give my life to help you fulfill your mission if necessary,” Kyojuro proclaimed.

That didn’t set Giyu at ease in the slightest.

He didn’t know the Flame Hashira personally, and he didn’t like to get involved with others. Even so, it was beginning to be difficult not to be angry with the current Flame Hashira on his son’s behalf. A Tsuchinoto shouldn’t be performing a Hashira’s duties. It was dangerous, and the fact that the Flame Hashira let his son take on dangerous missions he didn’t yet have the qualifications for was concerning.

Giyu didn’t want to watch anyone else die.

‘Go home.’

He stood and left the cafe.

There was some commotion behind him, but Giyu didn’t look back to see what it was. But soon enough, footsteps sounded behind him as Kyojuro caught up.

“I apologize for intruding, but I don’t intend to go home!” he said. As if to prove his point, he easily fell in step next to Giyu. “The Hashira are overworked, to my understanding. My father shirking his duties only places a heavier burden on you. I intend to do anything I can to help alleviate this burden. Just tell me what you need me for! I promise I will do my best!”

Kyojuro was painfully earnest and sadly enthusiastic. Giyu wasn’t sure how to respond to him—he was so forward and loud, dissuading him seemed like it would be a nigh impossible task, even if Giyu pulled rank on him.

So he simply ignored Kyojuro and continued walking.

Normally, when he ignored people, they gave up and left him alone. On missions, this typically meant they worked independently and whoever found the demon first got to kill it, assuming they didn’t get in over their head. Every other time, it meant whoever was trying to socialize or work with Giyu simply started to realize how daunting a task that would actually be.

Kyojuro, however, did not do this.

Instead, he took Giyu’s silence not as rejection, but as acceptance of his presence. Or, at the very least, he could have seen it as a lack of rejection—and a lack of rejection was apparently as good as acceptance to Kyojuro.

“Do you have any information on the demon, Tomioka?”

Slowly, Tomioka shook his head.

“I see!” Kyojuro paused for a moment, before he continued, “Well, we will just have to remain on our toes then. I’m sure any demon would jump at the chance to fight a Hashira—I will provide you as much backup as you need to defeat it!”

This was… strange. Kyojuro was still trying to speak with him.

“We do have some time before sundown… Should we ask for information? Or perhaps we should rest so we’re prepared for the fight?”

They should be gathering information, but this wasn’t Giyu’s strong point. Normally a lower ranked corps member, one who had slightly more social tact than Giyu, handled this for him. In this particular case, that job should technically fall to Kyojuro, but Giyu suspected he had all the subtlety of a freight train.

“Hm, let us gather information!” Kyojuro veered off, heading straight for a nearby vendor. Giyu wanted to call him back since he doubted some random store vendor would have any relevant information, but before he could, Kyojuro was already barreling ahead. “Excuse me! We are looking for a demon! Have you seen or heard anything strange lately?”

Giyu nearly bit his own tongue. He couldn’t claim he was the best at dealing with people, but even he knew that you shouldn’t outright talk about demons unless you wanted to spend the night in a cell. And granted, he knew this from experience, but the point still stood.

The vendor stared at Kyojuro, their eyes narrowing at the sword that hung from Kyojuro’s belt. “...Demons? Why do you have a sword?”

“To fight demons!”

“...I’m calling for the police.”

Giyu supposed it should be his job to smooth over the situation now, but he had no earthly clue how to do that. It apparently wasn’t smart to send Kyojuro and Giyu on missions together alone.

Most corps members kept their swords hidden until sundown to avoid conflict, but now that Giyu was thinking about it, he’d forgotten to tuck his sword out of sight, as well. So. He couldn’t really talk or fault Kyojuro for forgetting. They lived and died by their swords, so it was just safer to keep them at their side instead of hidden.

“Please don’t do that!” Kyojuro said. “We need swords in order to perform our jobs, so please excuse our transgressions!”

The vendor started at Kyojuro, as if unsure how to react to someone who seemed apparently honest but spoke what they must see as utter nonsense. “...Carrying swords is illegal, you know. It’s been illegal for half a century.”

“We are aware.” Kyojuro’s smile was unwavering as he spoke, and somehow, his demeanor seemed to be calming the vendor somewhat. Perhaps they were simply starting to see him as a harmless weirdo, though an admittedly armed one. “However, I wish to protect people, and in order to do that, I need to carry a sword. I can only plead that you overlook this and avoid summoning the police.”

“You could threaten me, you know, if you’re so worried about that.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing!”

Finally, the vendor sighed, their skepticism cracked somehow. “You were looking for demons? I don’t know anything about that, but there’s some tall tale floating around about people disappearing after dark if they cross that stone bridge. I have no idea if this is helpful, it could just be gossip, but I can’t think of anything else.”

Giyu’s brain took a moment to catch up with the situation. Once the vendor started talking about summoning the police, Giyu had been preparing to either bolt in spend the night in a cell, but somehow Kyojuro had managed to charm his way out of it through sheer dumb goodwill. He actually managed to get information that could prove useful, as well.

“Thank you!” Kyojuro beamed at the vendor, causing them to blink. “Fear not, if there is anything wrong with that bridge, Tomioka and I will be sure that it is no longer a problem for your town by morning.”

They took a moment to reply, but when they did, they said, “Well, fine then. If people are getting hurt, better to get it taken care of… Though if someone turns up hacked to pieces by a sword in the morning, I am sending the police your way.”

“If ever hurt a human with this sword, then there will be no need for that. I’ll turn myself in before you get the chance. Take care!”

With that, Kyojuro departed, leaving both Giyu and the vendor stunned in his wake. Giyu quickly got a hold of himself, nodded to the vendor, and then followed after Kyojuro.

“Your hearing is back,” Giyu observed, instead of commenting on the preceding conversation with the vendor that was the social equivalent of derailing a train and then watching it fall back onto the tracks.

If Giyu had been the one handling that, he had no doubt it would have ended poorly, and he’d developed a sort of respect for Kyoujuro’s straightforward but kind approach. Even if what he said sounded absolutely batshit to the ordinary person, people still had a hard time disliking and distrusting him.

Kyojuro nodded and hummed. “Somewhat. It is still difficult to hear, and loud noises are painful. Apparently, I did a number on my hearing that will take more time to heal.”

‘Should I sign instead, if it’s painful?’ Giyu did sign the question, but he wasn’t sure which to use. He didn’t want to cause Kyojuro pain. ‘Are you alright here?’

It was rather noisy. Between the chatter of those passing them in streets and the calls of vendors trying to attract customers, Giyu doubted that Kyojuro was having an easy time of it.

“Thank you, Tomioka!” Kyojuro turned his beaming smile towards Giyu, and it was blinding enough that he wanted to shrink from it. “Either way is fine. Your voice is actually very soft and pleasant—I enjoy it, and it doesn’t cause me pain in the slightest. Though I do have difficulty picking out your words at times. And I am fine! You worry just as much as Senjuro. I am not fragile, so I can endure some pain.”

It wasn’t a matter of thinking Kyojuro was fragile, but Giyu didn’t particularly see the point in arguing with him about it. It wasn’t as though someone like Giyu could change anyone’s mind about anything, and that went doubly so for someone as steadfast in their beliefs as Kyojuro.

Then, Giyu’s step stuttered.

Had Kyojuro… called his voice pleasant?

His voice?

“Tomioka? Is something wrong?” Kyojuro had stopped walking, looking back at Giyu with a frown.

Slowly, he shook his head and started walking again, quickly outpacing Kyojuro. He continued to chatter at Giyu, apparently completely unfazed by Giyu’s complete lack of response to his words, which he found utterly perplexing.

Koyjuro was something else.

Nothing he did made sense to Giyu. He was undoubtedly likable—Giyu had no doubt that Kyojuro, if promoted to Hashira, would quickly win the hearts of the rest. It was actually comical how different they were, in that regard. Giyu held no illusions that he was gloomy and unlikable, so it felt like Kyojuro was wasting his time talking with Giyu. There were other Hashira that Kyojuro was sure to like more, if he was looking for a Hashira to recognize him as their Tsuguko.

He thought about telling Kyojuro as such as the two of them made their way to the bridge, but he couldn’t find a good time to bring it up. Kyojuro never stopped talking, so Giyu found he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. He started to wonder if Kyojuro was doing it on purpose.

They found the bridge fairly easily. The sun was low on the horizon, so Giyu took a moment to scour the area for any signs of a demon. He started with the river bank; he searched one side while Kyojuro searched the other.

Water was Giyu’s element. It was calming that the battlefield would be so close to water, and he found himself growing ever calmer even as the shadows stretching over the river grew longer. Even when his finger closed over something smooth and light. When he withdrew it, he found what he knew to be a human bone.

He carefully set the bone between two rocks. It would be safe enough there to avoid further damage, and it would be easy to find again so the remains could be given a proper burial. He made a mental note of the location to send the kakushi here later to look for further remains in need of retrieving.

Giyu turned around, only to realize he’d wandered too far. He couldn’t see Kyojuro anymore, and it was dark enough that a demon could rear its head any moment.

He hoped any demon would gun for a Hashira over a regular member, but that wasn’t always the case. Many demons were too scared of Hashira to show themselves, instead choosing to pick off weaker targets until they got cocky enough to try and challenge a Hashira.

He should tell him to hide, to leave the rest of the work to Giyu.

“Kyojuro,” Giyu called as he started back.

He received no response, but that wasn’t unexpected. Kyojuro’s hearing still hadn’t fully returned, so Giyu would just have to find him and draw his attention as he drew closer.

That was when a head splitting screech assaulted him.

The noise was painful, enough to have Giyu staggering, his hands flying up to his ears.

A sound demon?

He kept his breathing steady, quickly using his techniques to inspect the status of his body. Nothing seemed amiss. Despite the relatively painful nature of the demon’s voice, it didn’t seem to have any negative impact on Giyu’s body, but he wasn’t sure if that was due to his own resistance, the conditions of activation for the blood demon art, or his distance from the demon.

Information gathered, Giyu immediately set a breakneck pace towards the source of the noise. He hoped Kyojuro was still alive. He hoped he wouldn’t be too late.

A sound demon, the exact time when Kyojuro was still recovering and found loud noises painful?

It was said demon slayers all had rotten luck. Most suffered greatly. Most lost their entire families to demons, joined the demon slayer corps because they had nothing else left than to help prevent the same tragedy from occurring to others, and then died cruel deaths at the hands of demons.

Giyu should resign himself to this cycle, but each time, he still hoped that he could be just a second sooner, just a bit more useful. He really was too naive.

When Giyu saw the demon ahead of him, he didn’t hesitate to raise his already drawn blade.

Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash.

Giyu had been so focused that he only caught the strike aimed for his side, a counter that was too slow to be truly effective in stopping Giyu’s blade from biting into the demon’s neck, later than he should have. He could bail on his current attack to deflect it or dodge, but in a split second, he elected to disregard his own safety to finish decapitating the demon.

The demon was weak and close to death. If Giyu took the blow, it likely wouldn’t do much damage. Either way, he was just a placeholder until they found someone better.

Flame Breathing, Third Form: Blazing Universe.

The demon’s arm, which had been set to ram into Giyu’s side, went flying in a bloody arc, allowing Giyu to cut the demon’s head off with no damage to himself.

The demon screamed one last time as he turned to ash, but Giyu was no longer paying him any mind. He turned to Kyojuro, glancing up and down the lower ranked slayer for injuries. There were scratches here and there, but Kyojuro’s breath was coming in steady and Giyu couldn’t find any sign of serious injuries.

The only thing of note was the thin trail of blood coming from his ears.

Suspecting what had happened, Giyu signed, ‘Are you alright?’

“I am fine!”

Giyu winced. Kyojuro was noticeably louder now, and his own ears were still ringing from the demon’s attacks earlier.

‘How is your hearing?’

“Completely gone again!” Kyojuro paused. “...Shinobu is going to kill me!”

Giyu said nothing to that—he’d had limited encounters with Kocho’s younger sister, but she certainly was terrifying. She liked to bully corps members who proved difficult patients for her older sister into behaving during their stays at the Butterfly Mansion.

‘You should have just run away. I could’ve handled it.’

“But it worked out,” Kyojuro insisted.

Giyu raised an eyebrow. ‘You lost your hearing. For a second time.’

“It will heal! Shinobu says as long as the nerve isn’t damaged, then complete hearing loss is unlikely to happen!”

This didn’t take into consideration that Kyojuro’s nerves probably hadn’t been damaged yet by pure luck, and the fact that he could still partially lose his hearing from repeated damage.

When Giyu didn’t sign anything else, Kyojuro countered, “You could’ve blocked that attack. Why didn’t you?”

‘It killed the demon faster.’

“Killing demons quickly is important,” Kyojuro conceded, “but so is your health! If you allow yourself to be injured every battle, then I imagine that would make fighting difficult.”

Giyu stared flatly at him.

“...I recognize my own hypocrisy in saying that!”

At least he was self-aware.

Giyu shook his head and started walking. He expected Kyojuro to follow, only to note that he wasn’t. When Giyu paused to turn back, Kyojuro explained, “I intend to stay and help the kakushi until my next assignment. I know the Hashira are busy, so please go ahead without me!”

‘Go to the Butterfly Mansion.’

“I will,” Kyojuro assured, “but it would be cruel if the victims of this demon never received proper burials. If the kakushi are not informed, they may not know that there are remains in need of locating. I wish to aid them.”

Giyu sighed. ‘You go. I’ll stay.’

“...Are you sure? I know the Hashira are very busy!”

‘Just go.’

Kyojuro looked unsure for a moment, like he wanted to argue further, but instead he only smiled. “Thank you, Tomioka! I will entrust this to you!”

Giyu didn’t respond. Kyojuro waited a moment before leaving, and he watched as Kyojuro’s form was swallowed by the night as he walked away. Kanzaburo arrived and settled on Giyu’s shoulder.

“Kakushi coming in five minutes! Five minutes!”

…He hoped Kanzaburo directed them to the right place, otherwise it could be a lot longer than five minutes.

-/-/-

“You asked to see me, Oyakata?”

Giyu kept his forehead on the ground. It had been a week since his mission with Kyojuro, and he’d taken care of several missions between then and now. He had only received a break the previous day.

“Raise your head, Giyu.”

Slowly, Giyu sat up to face Ubuyashiki. He wore a calm smile, his voice soft. Giyu had very little contact with the leader of the demon corps before he was asked to fill the role of the Water Hashira, but he had come to be at least somewhat familiar with the man. After all, it had taken nearly a month of visits for Giyu to finally accept.

His color looked poor, and the progression of his illness seemed to have creeped further along, though Giyu knew that was mainly his imagination. It had only been a month since the Hashira meeting, after all.

He hoped Ubuyashiki’s health improved.

“How are you?” Ubuyashiki asked.

Giyu blinked. Had he called him for a meeting just to ask that? “Fine.”

“That is good to hear. Apologies for not being able to speak with you as much since your promotion,” Ubuyashiki said. “I know it must seem manipulative, to visit you often when I need something from you and cease entirely after you’ve indulged me. Unfortunately, there are many things to do, and I find I do not have enough time in the day, though this is a poor excuse. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Giyu insisted. “You shouldn’t waste more time than necessary on me. I will fulfill the role I was asked to fill.” Until Ubuyashiki found someone more fitting for it, that is.

Ubuyashiki smiled, but there was something somber to the expression. “It is not a waste. I speak with the other Hashira, as well, when they have the time. They often spend time with each other, too.”

Giyu fell quiet, not quite sure what to say to that. It was true some of the Hashira had tried to speak with him when he was back at headquarters or when he was on missions, but he had ignored them. All of the Hashira gave up after that. Only Kyojuro had attempted to continue speaking with him, though Giyu hadn’t seen him since their joint mission.

“You don’t seem keen on getting to know the other Hashira.”

Ubuyashiki’s voice wasn’t accusatory. He sounded more concerned than anything, and perhaps he had every right to be. Still, though, Giyu remained silent.

In response, Ubuyashiki shifted topics. “Kyojuro speaks well of you.”

“...You’ve seen him?”

“After he was injured during your mission,” Ubuyashiki confirmed. “He said he enjoyed working with you, and that he admired your serious nature and skill with the sword. Kyojuro has trained with the sword since birth, so such praise is not to be taken lightly.”

Giyu elected to ignore that and instead ask, “How is he?”

“You should ask him yourself, Giyu.”

Giyu fell quiet at that. Ubuyashiki was right; it really wasn’t any of his business, so he shouldn’t be wasting his time with it.

“...I only mean that you should speak with him again,” Ubuyashiki added gently. “Perhaps you would like to be placed on more missions with him?”

“No.” Giyu frowned. “He is accepting missions meant for the Flame Hashira. He isn’t a Hashira.”

“Yes. Shinjuro has long since stopped responding to his missions—he is only still sent missions where we do not expect or require his help.” Ubuyashiki paused, shifting his hands into his lap. “Kyojuro is a good child. I have no doubt that he will one day join the ranks of the Hashira. I have no intention of sending him on missions he cannot handle. All the missions sent to the Rengoku family home are missions he is capable of handling, if he so happens to intercept them.”

Giyu couldn’t help it—he felt the knot in his chest unravel. It was impossible to feel any sort of resentment for Ubuyashiki. It was easy to blame him as the leader of the demon corps, but his earnestness in his efforts to relieve the burdens placed on the slayers as much as he could from behind the scenes made it difficult to follow through.

So Giyu nodded, feeling grateful. Although he wasn’t fully convinced that it wouldn’t happen again, it was somewhat reassuring. He didn’t want to see more tragedies.

Their conversations were ordinary from there, and Giyu left the estate feeling… light.

-/-/-

“Hello, Tomioka! It looks like we’ve been assigned another mission together!”

“...”

It looked like Giyu would have to get used to this, though if he was being honest, he certainly wasn’t disappointed.