Chapter Text
The sound of a man’s panicked yelling rips Sabito out of his dreams. There’s still sleep in his eyes as he hauls himself out of bed and onto his feet. He doesn’t bother changing out of the light yukata he was sleeping in, if someone is at the clinic in the middle of the night then they don’t care how he’s dressed.
He follows the trail of blood droplets from the genkan into one of the private rooms that’s reserved for the more gruesome injuries that come through their doors.
The coppery scent filling the room chases away the last remains of sleep from Sabito’s mind. He pulls his hair up into a high ponytail, securing it with the leather band from around his wrist, and pulls on a pair of gloves takes his place by Etsuko’s side.
‘He’s unconscious but his pulse is strong,’ the older doctor says as she continues to stitch a wound on the man’s thigh. ‘His eyes don’t look right. Check them.’
‘Is– is he alive?’
Sabito glances up at the pale stranger standing by the window. ‘There was so much blood. Was it a bear? We don’t have bears here but the blood ! There was so much.’
‘Please try to stay calm. Take deep breaths,’ Sabito tells the man, ‘we will do everything we can for him.’
The man nods, his lips pressing into a thin, white line. His hands shake.
Sabito watches him for a second longer before turning his full attention to his patient. It takes him a moment to realise that he knows this man. He’s unconscious and there’s a bright smear of blood on his cheek but Sabito can recognise Tomioka Giyuu even after six years.
He swallows and for a flicker of s second, he toys with the cruel idea of walking away. He could leave right now and Giyuu could find out what it’s like to be left alone in a hospital bed when he’s scared and fragile.
Closing his eyes briefly, Sabito breathes out the acidic, childish thought and starts to work.
This is a patient that needs Sabito’s help. He took an oath and he’s not going to throw it away for some petty revenge. This man is a patient like any other. That’s all he is. For now, everything else can fall away to the wayside.
He peels back the left eyelid and clicks his tongue when he’s met with shattered blood vessels and a thick cloud of white covering sharp blue. The right eye is no better. The man is surely blind and as concerning as that is, it is not life-threatening so Sabito lets the eye fall closed and moves on to help Etsuko with the rest of the patient's wounds.
His clothes have already been removed and Etsuko has finished stitching the long laceration that runs along the outside of his left thigh. If the stained towels are anything to go by, that's the wound that dripped on the floor and filled the air with the scent of blood.
There are twin cuts on his collar bones but they are easy enough for Sabito to clean and sew closed with four neat stitches.
The rest of his wounds are a conglomeration of cuts that have already scabbed over and soot-black bruises spreading over his torso and forearms. Sabito palpates his abdomen. He doesn’t find anything concerning but he is well aware that internal bleeding can be hard to find.
Shigeru enters the room with a fresh basin of water to replace the one by the bedside that has turned a frothy pink. Etsuko thanks her husband and quietly asks him to escort their patient's rescuer to a vacant room to rest and eat.
Sabito is honestly impressed that the man hasn’t passed out from shock.
Together, the two doctors clean off the remaining blood from the patient’s skin, get him into a yukata, change the sheets, and write down his vitals.
By the time they are done, Sabito’s back is stiff and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his face.
‘How were his eyes,’ Etsuko asks as she scrubs the flaking blood off of her wrists.
‘It looks like severe ulceration. There’s likely to be extensive vision loss but I don’t know if it’s temporary or not yet.’ He dumps an armful of blood-soaked rags into a bucket to be disposed of later. ‘I’ll make some eyedrops in the morning.’
Etsuko nods, looking down on their sleeping patient. ‘A bear attack,’ she scoffs, ‘how absurd.’ She places two fingers against Giyuu’s pulse point again. There’s a few seconds of quiet before she hums thoughtfully and straightens. ‘He’ll live,’ she says before yawning. ‘I’m much too old for this level of excitement in the dead of night. I’m going back to bed.’
Sabito is quick to follow her out of the room. ‘Sensei?’
The old woman stops, raising an eyebrow at him.
Sabito drops his gaze as he considers how to phrase his request. ‘I can make his medications but…’ He lowers himself into a shallow bow. ‘I would appreciate it if you do his direct care.’
‘Why?’
Sabito lifts himself from his bow, glancing back into the room where he can see Giyuu lying on the bed. ‘I knew him a while ago and we…didn’t part on good terms.’ It’s not a good explanation but he’s sure Etsuko will be able to understand what he’s left unsaid. When Giyuu is unconscious and bleeding out, Sabito can push aside the past and work but he’s not sure he can do the same when the other man is awake and talking.
He clenches his fist, his blunt nails biting into his palm. He doesn’t want to hear what Giyuu has to say.
His mentor’s gaze flicks down to his fist and then back to his face. ‘You cannot pick and choose your patients just because you personally don’t like them.’
‘I know.’
She purses her lips. ‘What’s his name?’
‘Tomioka Giyuu.’
Etsuko crosses her arms and stares at him until he starts to fidget. ‘Fine, but you’re taking up my laundry shifts.’
Relief floods through Sabito and he grins at her. ‘Deal!’
She shakes her head at him before wandering off to her bedroom. Sabito is eager to follow her example but something keeps him from doing so.
Frowning, he cautiously goes back towards the front entrance. Shigeru has cleaned up the blood and the doors are closed but they aren’t locked. They are never locked for this exact scenario. If someone needs to come in the dead of night, fiddling with locks can and will waste precious, life-altering seconds.
Now though, Sabito is distinctly aware that anyone and anything can get through.
They have a demon slayer, a Hashira if Urokodaki’s letters are to be believed, who has come from a fight that’s left him blind, injured, and unconscious with Sabito having no way of knowing if he won or lost the fight.
He supposed a lock wouldn’t make that much of a difference. It didn’t for his family.
In his mind's eye, he can see a demon tracking Giyuu through the scent of blood and ripping its way through the thin, wooden door to devour them all. The image alone is enough to make cold sweat prick at his skin.
Sabito swallows. He hates that he’s afraid. He hates knowing that if the demon is alive and if it comes here there is nothing he can do to stop it. He’s an easy meal.
Despite that, he goes back to his room and pulls out the colourless nichirin blade that Urokodaki gave him for passing the Final Selection. He’ll never be able to wield it but he appreciates the gesture even now.
It offers false comfort as he takes his place at his open bedroom window and watches the front gate of the property. He has no plan for if the demon does arrive but at least he won’t be caught unaware.
The demon never arrives.
Sabito keeps watch until daybreak. His muscles ache for the constant tension and his eyes feel heavy but he breathes a sigh of relief as he puts the sword away, and begins the same daily routine.
He bolts down a mandarin for breakfast once he’s gotten dressed and then disappears into the medical supply.
The little room is stuffed full with floor-to-ceiling shelves, blocking out any sunlight from coming through the window so he has to light the lanterns even with the sun shining outside.
It’s organisation in its most chaotic form. The clinic is the only healthcare facility this side of Mount Hachimori. As such Etsuko has curated a vast collection of medical supplies for almost every situation. From the multiple types of bandages to the extensive collection of herbs and oils to gynaecological tools and scalpels.
Sabito gathers a mixture of oils and herbal extract and sits down to make a basic formula for eye drops. He’ll be able to fiddle with the ratios and herbs once he knows more about the damage that has been done.
Eye problems aren’t something they encounter regularly but it’s a solution Sabito has made enough times over the years that muscle memory takes over.
He caps the little glass vial when he’s finished and puts it in one of the baskets waiting on the table that Shigeru has already labelled with Giyuu’s name. It’s already full of fresh bandages, wipes, and the folded paper with Giyuu’s vitals. Currently, it’s the only full basket since they don’t have anyone else staying at the clinic.
He kneads the tight muscles in his lower back as he leaves the room and sets about doing his usual chores. Around noon Etsuko informs him that Giyuu is awake and coherent.
He feels a rush of impersonal relief that leaves him with a strange feeling of almost-guilt. It’s the same kind of relief he always gets when he’s informed that one of his patients is making progress. He half expected to feel something more when being told his childhood best friend is doing better but there is nothing. Just…vague relief.
The following day starts with significantly less commotion.
Sabito finally resigns himself to holding up his end of the deal and doing the clinic’s laundry. The metal wash tub is already filled with water. Shigeru, even with his arthritic hands, always keeps the basins and tubs in every room full of clean water. All Sabito has to do is sit down and do the work. It doesn’t make him enjoy the task.
He starts with Giyuu’s clothes since they will take the longest. He avoids looking at the white kanji embroidered on the back of the demon slayer uniform as he inspects the damage. The fabric is thick and durable so, excluding the large cut on the thigh of the pants, there’s very little damage. Even the blood stains are hidden by the dark colour.
He dunks the uniform into the water and works the blood out of the fibres before letting it sink to the bottom of the top to soak and reach for the next item.
The next piece of clothing is a lot softer. He picks up the red haori but pauses when he catches a flash of green. Frowning, he pulls the haori closer, the bottom dropping into the water as he smooths out the fabric to inspect it.
His lips twist into a snarl as soon as he realises what he’s looking at. His grip threatens to break the seam that connects wine-red with geometric green and yellow.
He wants to rip it to peices.
It’s not fair!
It’s not fair that Giyuu gets to pretend like he’s the one who lost Sabito . He’s cut Tsutako’s haori in half to make room for Sabito’s as if he sees them of equal value. Giyuu would never have chosen to leave Tsutako. They are not the same. This is nothing more than a sick joke.
Pure, visceral rage makes his stomach clench. He stumbles to his feet with the haori clenched in his hands and storms through the clinic before his mind can catch up with his actions.
He slams open the door to the recovery room, it bounces forward when it bangs against the wall. The sound makes Giyuu jerk upright, his right hand twitching towards his left hip, searching for a sword that isn’t there. He is defenceless, sightless and Sabito hopes he’s scared.
Sabito stalks towards the bed. ‘I’m not fucking dead,’ he snarls.
He hurls the half-soaked haori at the demon slayer, hitting him square in the chest. It drops into his lap with a wet slap.
‘I’m not fucking dead and you don’t get to pretend that I am! What? Did you decide that you wouldn’t feel guilty if I died?’
Giyuu tangles his fingers in the sodden fabric as he turns his head to blindly look toward the person screaming at him. ‘Sabito?’
‘Go to hell, Giyuu.’ Sabito’s whole body is trembling. There’s a lump in his throat that makes his voice rasp. ‘You’re a piece of shit and I hope you know that,’ he snarls venomously.
His chest shudders as he breathes in and takes a step back because if he stays too close he will punch him. He waits, strung out and shaking, for Giyuu to say something. Anything!
It’s been six years, he must have something to say but he just sits there, like a lifeless doll. He is not sure why he thought he would care like Sabito does.
‘Fuck you.’ There’s so much more Sabito wants to say but he’s not going to break in front of Giyuu.
He grinds his teeth together and slams the door shut when he retreats from the room.
Sabito, all of thirteen years, woke up to a hazy world of agony. He whimpered as his head throbbed and the thick bandages wrapped around his abdomen rubbed at his raw skin.
Exhaustion clung to the very marrow of his bones.
He wanted to fall back to sleep but a large, warm hand squeezed his shoulder. It didn’t make the pain worse but the pressure kept him from drifting away. He whined low in his throat, wordlessly cursing out the person for keeping him in that painful waking world.
‘I know, I know,’ a voice said gently, ‘but the doctor needs you awake.’
Urokodaki.
Sabito peeled his eyes open and the red tengu mask came into focus. It’s comforting to know that his teacher is with him. Everything else felt too distant and too big at the same time. Sabito’s thoughts weren’t fitting together quite right.
Sabito wanted to ask why he needed the doctor but his tongue felt thick and it stuck to the roof of his mouth. He was so thirsty.
He was very, very thirsty.
Thankfully, Urokodaki placed one hand on the back of Sabito’s head and tilted him up. He pressed the rim of a glass to Sabito and the boy drank greedily until his stomach felt bloated and the pain in his throat was gone. He lay back down just as the doctor came into the room.
Doctor Hanjo– a name Sabito never forgot– a mousy-looking man, rolled the bottom of the blanket up to expose Sabito’s legs.
Sabito didn’t feel the material as it brushed against his legs. He didn’t feel the cool air pricking at his skin. That was the first sign that something was wrong.
The doctor told Sabito to press the ball of his foot down into his hand. Sabito, staring up at the wooden beams above him, obediently followed his instruction. The exercise was repeated on the other foot. The doctor didn’t say anything.
There were more tests. Doctor Hanjo poked a thin metal rod into the muscles in Sabito’s calf. He kept repeating the action, gradually moving the rod higher, until he reached the skin just above Sabito’s hip and finally, the boy could feel the now warm metal.
He knew something was wrong but the resulting anxiety felt so far away.
Eventually, the doctor straightened up. He spoke about many things but only one word stood out: Paralysis .
What a silly thought. Sabito was not paralysed. He was strong, flexible, and agile. He was just in the Final Selection. Only people in top physical condition go to that mountain and only the best survive and clearly Sabito was still alive ergo he’s not paralysed.
Urokodaki had taken him to see a quack.
‘Sabito-kun…’
The boy let his head loll to the side and looked at his teacher. The tengu mask was gone. The doctor was gone.
‘Did you hear what the doctor said,’ Urokodaki asked slowly like Sabito was a stupid child. He didn’t reply and Urokodaki reached out to cradle one of Sabito’s hands in his. ‘Did you hear about the paralysis?’
There was that word again but it still didn’t apply to Sabito. He was not paralysed. He was thirteen years old, almost fourteen, his legs worked fine. He told Urokodaki exactly that and the man rubbed his thumb across the top of Sabito’s wrist in response.
‘You got injured. Your spine is broken, Sabito.’
Sabito shook his head. The movement made his stomach roil. ‘I was just at the Final Selection.’ He kept getting stuck on that little fact. He was just at the Final Selection
Urokodaki stayed silent for a moment, his thumb still tracing patterns into Sabito’s skin. ‘That was four days ago.’
‘It was yesterday,’ Sabito corrected him.
The world began to blur. ‘Giyuu was injured. He hit his head.’ Sabito’s breath hitched. ‘but I protected him,’ he quickly told his teacher, ‘The whole week, I kept him safe.’
Urokodaki nodded solemnly. ‘Do you remember what happened in the last hour? The demon you fought?’
There were lots of demons on that mountain! They all blur together eventually. How is Sabito supposed to remember one particular demon?
His body seemed to remember though and it started to shake as a tear slipped down his temple and soaked into the pillow by his ear. ‘There was one demon.’ Was it the last demon he fought? ‘It was bigger than the others.’
Green with hands. So many hands and it smelt like rot. A burning sensation in his leg. Giyuu’s screams. A moment of weightlessness and then…pain.
So much pain.
The weight of the memory caused Sabito to double over. He wrapped his arms around his stomach in a poor imitation of a hug. ‘I’m fine. I’m fine,’ he repeated to himself. ‘I’m fine.’ He focused on Urokodaki. ‘Where’s Giyuu? He’s alive…right?’
‘He’s alive,’ Urokodaki confirmed quickly. ‘He’s alive, he’s safe and he’s fine.’
Sabito closed his eyes and breathed as the relief untangled the knot in his chest. ‘When is he going to be here?’ He hoped the answer was soon because it felt like the world was crumbling and he needed Giyuu’s steady calm. He did not want to be alone right now, not when each time he tried to move his legs the blanket remained motionless.
Urokodaki stayed silent and it grated on Sabito’s nerves. ‘When is he going to be here?’
Urokodaki squeezed his hand. ‘I don’t think he’s going to come.’
‘He’s my best friend.’ Maybe even more than that. ‘Of course he’s going to be here!’ He wiped at the snot dripping down his nose. They were always going to watch out for each other. Giyuu would be there for him.
Urokodaki didn’t argue with him. He kept his mouth shut while Sabito wiped at the tears that kept slipping from his eyes.
Together they waited for Giyuu.
He never arrived.