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Magnificent. If there was just one word Akaza could dare to use to describe Kyojuro - magnificent. The blood rising to his cheeks, his face, dying his skin a sweet reddish-pink. The labored breaths slipping from his lips, flames dwindling in his lungs. The speckled, fresh bruises littering his body - all Akaza. A bit of disdain, disgust flit in his heart at the drying, thin cuts tearing through his uniform, a worthless wretch of a lower demon marring his chosen equal.
The blackened feelings Akaza held onto, lessened, released all too easily at the pretty, beautiful crown of snow falling upon Kyojuro’s hair. Akaza would have been cornered, enraged by Kyojuro’s humanity, the fragility in such a strong, ferocious body. He would have ruined him beyond repair, unable to even look at the Flame Pillar, to see the abrupt end result of Kyojuro’s “precious” morality. Now.
Now.
Akaza closed into Kyojuro’s space, a mere quirk of his lips in place of a cruel-hearted, vicious smile. The start of fireworks crackled in Akaza’s heart, Kyojuro allowing himself to be backed into a corner, being pinned in place against a tree. Kyojuro could easily break away from the featherlight touch of Akaza’s fingertips, his blue-tipped hands grazing his cheek. Without thought, Kyojuro could have snapped the bones of Akaza’s wrists for even thinking of touching him.
Yet, Kyojuro remained where he stood, relaxing under Akaza’s hand. It did not make Akaza’s heart flare with warmth. A wider, sweeter smile bubbled on Akaza’s lips and he struggled just a little to smooth it out to something sharper, colder. Akaza curled three of his fingers, tracing a line down Kyojuro’s chin with his pointer finger, setting the pad of his thumb over his lips. Akaza watched the Flame Pillar shiver, his infernal eye growing wider. Satisfaction bled onto Akaza’s lips, staining his smile much easier.
“I want,” Akaza murmured his declaration, faintly dragging his thumb down to part Kyojuro’s lips, “you to submit to me. Can you do that, Flame Pillar? Surrender everything to me, could you, Kyojuro?”
Akaza heard Kyojuro’s heart flutter, a twitter of a rapid beat before it struggled to settle down. Kyojuro’s eyebrows furrowed, reaching the bridge of his nose, a pretty sneer engraved into his lips. As irritated, angry as Kyojuro looked, adoration ran through the cracks of his mask, with how instinctively the corner of his eye crinkled, the white of his pupil engulfing the flames in his lone eye.
Kyojuro’s fingers tensed around the hilt of his sword, drawing away and latching onto Akaza’s wrist. His grip was tight, deathly so, white bleeding into his skin from the strain. Akaza only greedily smiled, open mouthed. Kyojuro wrenched Akaza’s hand off of him as if the demon’s chilled fingers scalded him, as if his touch disgusted the Pillar. Akaza knew better, however, Kyojuro’s hesitation and the flicker of his enchanting little smile - his affection laid bare for Akaza to witness.
Kyojuro forced Akaza’s hand back, shoving his wrist away.
“Excuse me?” Kyojuro barked, affronted.
Akaza huffed out a laugh through his nose, splaying his hands out and lightly shaking his head. A smirk touched his lips as he cocked his head to the side, eyeing the Flame Pillar through his lashes. All he had to do, it seemed, was just look at Kyojuro and the man would fall to ash. Kyojuro’s breath hitched, his eyelashes just barely fluttering.
“Ah, must I repeat myself?”
Exasperation broke through Kyojuro’s put upon anger, his eyebrow quirking up. His mouth twisted some, popping open as though he wanted to say something. He swallowed it back as he cleared his throat.
“I will sacrifice nothing for you, demon.”
Sweet ice and delicate snow ran down Akaza’s back. His eyes slipped shut, a warm smile flitting across his lips. Of course, it sounded like a clear cut rejection, that, perhaps, Akaza should only wring the Flame Pillar’s neck even tighter - claim control, possess Rengoku Kyojuro in every sense of the word. Akaza was made, bred by cruelty, but even that was conquered by the fragility of his blackened heart.
In short, Akaza loved this man too dearly, the thought of maiming him once more, selfishly taking Kyojuro apart, it terrified him. Kyojuro refusing to sacrifice himself to him, it was a good thing, Akaza thought. Good. As the Flame Pillar, Kyojuro already allowed others to take from him, the scars he wore, his smile, his own blade, the proof of his unchanging duty. To protect the weak.
Akaza had no need of submission, control, it sickened him, really. All he wanted, to earn, was Kyojuro’s trust, that kindness he so eagerly displayed for humans. He wanted that smile, Kyojuro’s real smile all directed at him.
Akaza already did, somehow.
“Good, Kyojuro.” Akaza purred, just to make him squirm.
Kyojuro shuddered, his heart rapidly beating in his chest. He swallowed as his gaze briefly lowered, catching on Akaza’s lips. Kyojuro fixed his face into a none too convincing glare. Akaza only smiled back, preening at the attention.
“Make no mistake, Kyojuro,” Akaza’s smile grew into a grin, desire ripping at the corners, “I want you,” Akaza paused, breathing in. His voice shifted into a whisper, “I want you as you are.”
Akaza saw the moment Kyojuro’s self-control burned to nothing, the blood rushing, searing in his body, how his breathing briefly fractured, the tension sinking into his hands. A calloused, blood-warm hand settled on the back of Akaza’s head. Kyojuro threaded his fingers through soft pink hair, painfully gentle.
“I believe you already,” Kyojuro’s eye flicked away from Akaza, his cheeks flushing red, “have me. You were certain of that the moment we met.”
“Of course I was. Every little thing about you,” Akaza shivered, his lips curling into a ravenous smile, “you’ve enchanted me, slayer, that strength of yours, your brilliant fighting spirit. I claimed you as mine the moment you allowed me, Kyojuro.”
Akaza’s hands snaked down to Kyojuro’s hips, closing the minimal distance between them. His eyes fluttered shut as he gently pressed his lips against Kyojuro’s. Kyojuro bit back a noise, the hand in Akaza’s hair tightening its grip. Akaza groaned low in his throat, running the tip of his tongue along Kyojuro’s bottom lip. Kyojuro parted his lips, deepening the kiss with the slow swirl of his tongue. Akaza matched his pace, just as loving.
Akaza could deny it - not knowing the reason for the shift, the change from a snarling inferno to delicate, warm embers. The first kiss they shared was particularly blistering, selfish desire crudely mixing with pent-up, unfelt, domineering anger. Kyojuro’s hand had been wrapped around Akaza’s throat, almost harsh enough to crack a bone or two, the intense pressure leaving Akaza breathless. Oh, Akaza enjoyed it enough to babble senselessly to an irritated, aggressive Kyojuro, but one single thing cooled the blazing, wrathful heat to Kyojuro’s eye.
Akaza’s pulse fluttered wildly under Kyojuro’s hand.
Kyojuro’s eye sparked with a flurry of emotions, spilling into something familiar. Warm, safe. A smile had bloomed on his lips, erasing his tight-lipped sneer, a faint kiss pressed to the demon’s pulse point. Kyojuro’s voice filled the space between them, fragile, oddly reverent, “You’re alive.”
Akaza reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, holding Kyojuro close, hiding his face in the crook of Kyojuro’s neck. Kyojuro did absolutely nothing to stop him, even as Akaza’s cold lips found the Flame Pillar’s beating pulse. He hummed against Kyojuro’s neck, smiling in content.
“I wish,” Kyojuro whispered, his voice nearly choked up, “I wish you can see the sunrise with me,” Kyojuro grasped Akaza’s haori like a lifeline, clawing at Akaza’s heart, “the proof of your humanity - it is there, I wish you-”
-were human. Akaza knew. The mere thought of it was revolting, all of his strength stripped away, the power he worked for. Him being human was laughable, terrifying. He’d go back to being utterly worthless, weak, strangled by fleeting sensations, emotions; lording over him. Akaza did not deserve to walk under the sun without burning away, he knew that deep in his heart.
But.
Akaza hated he could already picture it, yelling or complaining about Kyojuro right in his face, the man housed in a sick bed, the sunlight blooming through a window as Kyojuro thoughtlessly smiled at him, all innocent as though he didn’t wreck his body with pointless- brave, foolish- persevering injuries. Steady hands marred by three black tattoos carefully tending to Kyojuro’s wounds. Sparring with him, laughing with him, eating with him.
Akaza was selfish enough, stupid enough to want to see Kyojuro’s smile under the blinding light of the sun.
Akaza squeezed Kyojuro’s hip, a sigh drawing out of him.
Akaza was horrible enough to want that sight engraved into his head. To forfeit everything, his stagnant, dwindling loyalty he held for Muzan, his rank, the strength endlessly he craved, everything for that chance.
“Perhaps I could.”
Three words. Just three words set Kyojuro’s fighting spirit ablaze. Orange flames roared against Kyojuro’s skin, quickly rising and expanding as Akaza’s words fully registered. The ends of the flames wildly danced, the inferno crying, wailing with crackles. It engulfed him, higher than the flames of their first encounter, drenched in joy instead of killing intent.
It was beautiful, so beautiful.
“For now,” the brilliant flames of Kyojuro’s fighting spirit immediately hushed, making Akaza snort, “I offer you a gift.”
Akaza pulled his arms away with a half-annoyed huff. A pleased little smile danced on his lips, warmed by the touched look on Kyojuro’s face. The demon shoved a hand into his pants pocket and plucked out a small orange cloth bag. He carefully unraveled the red string enclosed around the bag, curling his fingers to loosely clutch a sweet baby blue ribbon. The ends of the ribbon fluttered in the wind, the dove white ends catching onto his blue stained fingers. Tiny dark blue flowers ran up the slim fabric.
Tears welled in Kyojuro’s eye, a strained breath leaving him. Akaza stood straighter, eyeing Kyojuro like a startled deer.
“Do,” Akaza started, concern flooding his mouth, “do you not like it? If you want, you can simply throw it away.”
Kyojuro shook his head, frantic. His fingers latched onto Akaza, his hands beginning to shake. He pulled him into another hug, blessedly drenched in warmth. The man sniffled, little tears falling and landing on Akaza’s skin.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
Akaza hummed, running his fingers through Kyojuro’s hair. There was a short lull in their conversation, the falling snow and Kyojuro’s sniffles filling the comfortable silence.
“Could you, ah-” Kyojuro abruptly stopped, blood rushing to his face.
“No no, Kyojuro, finish your sentence.” Akaza teased, laughing.
“You? You irritate me.”
“Yet you still hold me so close, how interesting.”
Akaza couldn’t see Kyojuro’s face, but he knew the Flame Pillar was scowling. His hands fell away from Akaza’s sides, planting a light kiss to Akaza’s tattooed cheek.
“Tie this into my hair please!”
Akaza’s eyes crinkled at the corners, faintly narrowing around his love-filled smile. His amber-gold gaze slid to Kyojuro’s hair, his fingertips grazing the crimson ends. His fingers skated up to the blond strands, loosely fisting a thick blonde-red lock. Akaza’s other hand settled by Kyojuro’s head, the ribbon resting underneath Kyojuro’s hair. Akaza carefully tied the ribbon around Kyojuro’s hair, gently tugging the two loops just a bit tighter. The twin tails of the ribbon shortly trailed down Kyojuro’s wild sunshine-colored locks.
Akaza caught the ribbon into his hand, trailing his fingers down the very ends. A smirk briefly colored his lips, melting into a smile as he kissed the white ends of the ribbon.
Granting something so simple, putting that ribbon into Kyojuro’s hair made Akaza realize. This? This very sight was worth more than kneeling by Muzan’s feet, the expectation, the demand of unquestionable loyalty. This, the sweet pink on Kyojuro’s cheeks, the wobbling, delicate smile he wore, the utterly grateful look in Kyojuro’s glassy eye. Akaza felt nothing when he kneeled before Muzan, yet a single human man set his heart ablaze with fireworks, with longing. Love.
“You’re so cute, Kyojuro,” Akaza whispered, fond. He cupped Kyojuro’s cheek, smiling, “just like this.”
‘You’re so cute, Ha-’
The winds began to howl and Akaza drew his head up, watching the full moon. With a regretful look and a whispered; pitiful goodbye, Akaza turned away, sinking back into the darkened forest.
Perhaps. Perhaps, Akaza could dare to see the sun. For now, Kyojuro was enough.
With an adoring smile on Rengoku’s face, he turned to the person huddled by his side, peacefully sleeping away. Akaza- Hakuji curled up against him, resting his head on Rengoku’s shoulder. He was swaddled in the plain white blankets of the Butterfly Estate’s medical ward, his pale pink lashes fluttering. Drool shined on his lip, drying down his chin. His warm, fair-skinned hand was loosely entwined with Rengoku’s. Rengoku’s eye flickered onto Akaza’s pitch black hair, sliding to the crimson-orange prayer beads enclosed around the man’s left wrist.
By Hakuji’s bedside was a half-eaten meal, steamed white rice, eggs and tofu.
Behind them, the dove white curtains framed the sun spilling its light, blessing Hakuji with its late afternoon golden-white hues.