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After a few months, you were finally getting used to your new life. A small cabin near the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters that your master had gotten you, as "motivation" to keep making an effort in the corps, a lot of active missions, barely sleeping, loss, grief, but also many new friends. A family, you could say.
You were quite the fast learner. Your master had been sure you'd pass the Final Selection, and then your friends at the corps were sure you'd be a pillar, given the rate of adaptability you had. You were climbing ranks fast, and that turned some heads in your direction.
In particular, a very bright blonde with red tips head. He had been assigned on a mission with you a few weeks ago, and since then, he's been trying to train you. As enthusiastic as ever, completely excited that at least one of his disciples besides Mitsuri wasn't running away, he dropped by your cabin every time he was off duty to help you become a better slayer. And at the same time, a better person. You were slowly becoming friends, and you appreciated it. He was, indeed, a burning flame that didn't harm anyone; he just brought light into the lives he touched. And so, you were glad he had touched yours.
You never thought it was "too much", as you had heard other people call his ways. He was loud, and very direct, but he was a wonderful man to be around. Always kind and looking out for you, in his own excited way of doing things. However, at the same time, he could be cold and calculating if the mission needed a clear head, and you admired thar about him. That's why you decided to stay with him as a master, and truthfully, as a friend. That, and a little feeling blooming in your heart every time he walked through your door, but that was only for you to know.
"Are you ready for today?" Kyojuro asked you, pulling you away from your thoughts.
"Yes. Bring it in."
It was almost a dance, you had begun to think after a few lessons. You were sparring, and thinking of countermeasures, but you were sure that if you looked at it from outside, it looked like a deadly waltz both the flames and the flowers learned, interacting in perfect steps and turns. And he was a great dancer; manifesting flames in each movement, radiating passion from any angle you looked at him. Your flowers could only yearn to touch the fire.
"Go on!" He urged you, smiling proudly. "You are beginning to fight like a master!"
Your heart jumped a little. He had complimented you, and although it wasn't the first time, you believed him today. You felt different this time, you moved your body and your katana to the sound of a song you didn't quite understand yet, but it felt stronger.
You saw it then. A different flower in the field, a distinct smell in the air. A whole new turn you were sure you never learned, but you could make it. A new form of breathing; a final dance to end the fights. You tried it, as you saw all the daisies in your head. In a second, you were on top.
Quite literally on top. You had landed on Kyojuro's chest, finally seeing him eye to eye. His gaze was concentrated on you, as his eyes reflected something bright and warm you understood as pride. You were quite out of breath looking at him so close, feeling so much of him underneath you. There was a thin thread of magic in the moment, you didn't dare to look away or get down.
"That was a stunning move," He almost whispered. "Forgive me, but you have left me speechless."
You couldn't help but admire his features. His hair, much a gold mine, had so many different undertones in it, you found it mesmerizing. You dared not look straight into his eyes, afraid of what you would find. Or rather, what would the discovery make you feel. You knew he had beautiful eyes, forged in the deepest of fires and reflecting the kindest of souls. But being this near to him, skin to skin, so close from your heart's wishes was quite the nervewracker. Even though it had been him who claimed to be speechless, you didn't know what to say either. The risk of ruining this little moment kept your mouth shut as you stared at every single detail of his face except his eyes.
"You can look at me," He murmured, slowly. "I won't bite."
You closed your eyes firmly, before gathering the courage to gaze into his crimson and amber double-toned eyes.
"I'm not afraid of looking at you," You confessed, stuck in a trance. "I'm afraid I won't be able to stop."
"You don't have to." He looked at your lips for only a second, before raising his brows with a question that didn't need outspoken words.
Your lips quivered in anticipation as you nodded, and his own lips collided with your trembling ones. Slowly, delicate, and oh so warm. It felt like a million tiny fires had lightened inside of you, as he caressed your cheek with his calloused hand. He tasted like shooting stars you wish upon; like sweet toasted marshmellows; and he tasted of war, too, but warriors always do.
"I have spent the last few days wishing to be able to hold you," Kyojuro whispered against your mouth, barely finding the will to separate from you. "Though I must say, it's better than I could have ever imagined, my flower."