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The world spins in a kaleidoscope of fire and ash.
The sun has yet to rise on the Entertainment District, the only light coming from the still burning fires that ravage the remains of the town. Smoke drags lazily into the sky, painting the indigo night in gray with splashes of orange from the flames. The roar of fire is drowned out by the sounds of his wives’ cries.
Uzui Tengen is going to die.
He had defeated Upper Moon Six with the help of Tanjiro and his friends, and now his duty is fulfilled. The poison burns as it creeps through his veins— he’s too weak to hold it back, too weak to hold on to the dimming light around him. His wives’ voices start to blur and fade.
Was I good enough?
The image of Kyojuro’s face comes into his mind, hazy and smudged at the edges. He remembers the flame Hashira’s words as if he had actually said them, remembers promising to look after Tanjiro and his friends.
I protected them, Kyo.
His eye starts to close as darkness envelopes him.
I hope I made you proud.
Xx
He feels warm.
The sun kisses his skin, and the gentle scent of sakura is carried on the slightest breeze. Plush moss cushions his body, fuzzy against the tips of his fingers. Tengen lies on his back, arms and legs outstretched in a relaxed posture, face turned towards the sky. He feels comfortable in a way that he hasn’t felt before— like everything is right in the world and that nothing could hurt him. The soft zephyr rustles the delicate blossoms somewhere above him, and he feels a single petal grace his cheek.
Slowly, Uzui opens his eyes.
Above him is a massive sakura tree; its trunk rises to the heavens while its branches reach out as far as the eye can see. Petals dance towards the ground that’s covered in deep verdant moss and swaying grasses. Sunlight filters through the rosy canopy, dappling the landscape in shimmering streaks of gold. Contentment washes over him in a wave of calm more powerful than he’s ever felt before. He blinks a few times, flexes his fingers—
He realizes that he’s dead.
It doesn’t hit him with the force of a swift punch; instead it dawns on him like a gentle sunrise, warm and peaceful. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, tastes the sunshine and bliss that hangs in the air around him.
“You did make me proud.”
A voice he knows speaks up from behind him, prompting him to quickly sit up and turn around.
Rengoku kneels on the soft moss, hands stacked and relaxed in his lap. His uniform is pristine, his hair sways gently in the breeze— he looks just like the last time Tengen saw him. A gentle smile graces his features, and he looks at Uzui with soft eyes.
“Kyojuro…” he breathes, wonder and disbelief clinging to his lashes as tears.
The flame Hashira smiles and brings his hand to Tengen’s face. A calloused thumb slides across his cheek, smudging away a tear that’s quickly replaced by another. Kyojuro’s hand is warm and rough, just as Uzui remembers it; he covers it with his own and turns into it, pressing his lips to the center of Kyojuro’s palm. They stay like that for a moment before he pulls Rengoku into a tight embrace.
He holds the man he loves to his chest as tightly as he can— he never wants to let go again.
Sobs erupt from within him, unable to be held back any longer now that Kyojuro is back in his arms. They cry together— for the friends they’ve left behind, the families that will mourn them, and for each other. The pain they both endured, the difficult lives they’d led, the hardships they took in stride; it all melts away, leaving Tengen with a feeling of love so strong and pure that he aches with it.
He pulls back, holds Kyojuro’s face in his reverent hands and presses their lips together. All of his love is poured into the kiss, all of his grief and heartache and devotion finally released. Their tears mingle between their cheeks, smudged into each other’s skin. Uzui’s hands wander into Kyojuro’s hair, down his strong back and over his muscular arms. He twines their fingers together in one hand, pulls it towards his chest to keep them safe, and cradles Rengoku’s face with the other. Tengen holds him like he’s the most precious thing in the world, because that’s exactly what Kyojuro is.
They pull apart, foreheads pressed together so they share each other’s air. Kyojuro’s fingers are still laced with his between their chests; Uzui decides that he’s never letting go.
“You did so well, Tengen,” Kyojuro says in a watery voice. His eyes are red, as are his cheeks and the tip of his nose— Uzui probably looks the same.
“I couldn’t save everyone,” he whispers against Rengoku’s lips. Despite how hard he had tried, despite giving his own life, people had still died. “I couldn’t do what you did, Kyojuro.”
“I couldn’t have done what you did either,” Kyojuro says as he runs his fingers through Uzui’s hair; Tengen leans into the warmth it brings. “You defeated the first Upper Moon in a hundred years, Tengen! And you had the entire Entertainment District to look after, as well as Tanjiro and his friends.”
“Tanjiro was the one who beheaded the demon, not me.”
“That’s true, yes.” Gently Rengoku tilts Uzui’s face to look him in the eyes. “But that was your fight, Tengen, and you won . You know nobody else could have defeated that demon!” Kyojuro strokes his cheek with a calloused thumb and offers him a smile that’s soft as sunlight. “Let yourself have this. You’ve never given yourself enough credit, and I think it’s about time you start.”
“Better late than never, I guess,” he laughs, and Rengoku joins him in perfect harmony. It makes him feel giddy, laughing with the man he loves after so long of not even being able to hear his voice. The tears form anew and trail down his cheeks as he captures Kyojuro’s lips once again.
Tengen may be dead, but Kyojuro is here by his side, and that’s all he needs.