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He'd gone days without eating after the impromptu dinner with the other two Pillars. He hadn't meant to, God knew he understood the importance of sustenance but he'd eaten so well and his stomach had been full and the taste lingered and…. His stomach rolled at the thought and Obanai swallowed thickly, nearly dry-heaven where he stood.
Fuck, fuck fuck.
Safe to say his mission had not gone without injury as weak as he'd been. Tainted blood splattering everywhere when Lower Moon Six had taken him off guard and cut into his left arm then his right, thankfully his legs had remained unscathed. Of course he'd decapitated the kid, briefly wondering if this truly meant that he'd changed the timeline for good. After all, wasn't Tanjiro supposed to be the one to eliminate this vermin? And speaking of Tanjiro….
Should he save him? Save his family? Get them out of there, take them to the Master…Change everything?
But what of the mark…without the Kamados' sacrifice…
Shaking his head, refusing to listen to his offbeat beating heart, he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. This is why he'd been dawdling around, not allowing himself to make the tough choices. Doing the bare minimum, going on as many missions as possible to keep the lower level slayers alive, refusing to lose anyone and yet unwilling to change too much for fear of losing everything. But was that fair? Humanity stood at the precipice of disaster and he, he alone held all the cards.
What would Oyakata-sama say? And was it wrong to want to put the burden of choice onto his shoulders when he carried so much already?
Was it wrong to not be the sole carrier of everyone's destinies?
So many lives and Obanai didn't know how to weight their worth, so he lived on, took missions he shouldn't, saved lives he shouldn't and hesitated on choices where he shouldn't and he lived on.
Most days this extra life felt more like a punishment than a saving grace and it killed him slowly, agonizingly.
What would Kyojuro think…
If Obanai was willing to save him,
What of…..
He shouldn't have eaten as much as he did, he thought. It only made him sick and sick made him sloppy. Food was not a luxury he should ever indulge in.
Swallowing the saliva gathering in his mouth he tried to breathe through his nose.
Sooner or later he'll have to face the music of choice but for now, he'll live on. Approaching the sprawling manor, the weight of Kaburamaru still coiled around his neck provided him comfort he'd never grow weary off. Pressing his cheek against the small snake head that had been insistently hissing in his ear ever since he stopped moving, he allowed himself to breathe.
It would all work itself out eventually he told himself quietly. He was only one man and he'd promised himself to do better this time, so he would. How, he was unsure off but he had time. He had time and he would use it carefully. He'd already changed too much, maybe saving the Kamados', saving Rengoku, maybe it was all part of the reason he'd been sent back.
Making his way back to the manor, bandaged arms to match bandaged face, he still mulled on his thoughts as he walked alone through the winding paths.
Part of him did not want to be here because he knew Rengoku was back. He'd managed to avoid him the first three days but the man had for some reason elected to stick around the area and at this point it would just be suspicious if he kept avoiding him. And maybe, maybe he didn't want to avoid him anymore. It was aching not to see him. It felt like losing a piece of himself that he'd willingly chosen to give away, so he walked, knowing he was just as likely to bump into the other man as any day he was seeking him out.
Still, the chance… the prospect of actually seeing him again brought a complex mix of emotions bubbling to the surface—anticipation, anxiety, and that familiar deep, unshakable fondness that he carefully kept hidden beneath layers of stoic indifference.
Kyojuro had always been a beacon of light to everyone, his presence larger than life and yet somehow soothing in its warmth. That was a feeling he could never forget. No matter the time, no matter the pain.
As children, they had been close, Kyojuro nursing his very soul back to the land of the living after his father had brought him home, but eventually Ruka had… and Obanai had chosen to move out. It had been the right choice at the time, he still believed it to be so but oh how it had ached, how he had missed them all. They'd been close but the years and the unending war against the demons had woven distance between them. Distance Kyojuro could leap through at the sight of him, a distance Obanai couldn't help but try to crawl through to reach beyond, to him.
Arriving at the far side of the manor, Obanai paused for a moment in the grand entryway, listening to the low murmur of voices coming from down the hall. He could discern Oyakata-sama's gentle tone and another, more vibrant voice that was unmistakably Kyojuro’s. It seemed his timing was perfect—Rengoku was just finishing up his meeting.
Maybe he hadn't timed it, but maybe he had. Maybe despite the fears, despite the worries Oyakata-sama might sense and request him, he really, truly had. Timed it.
The door to Oyakata-sama's chamber slide open then, and Kyojuro stepped out, his face alight with the same infectious energy that seemed to radiate from him like the sun itself. Obanai unconsciously found himself leaning towards it.
"Ah, Obanai!" Kyojuro exclaimed, his eyes brightening as he caught sight of the snake pillar. A moment of confusion all that flashed through his eyes before it was replaced by joy. "It has been too long, my friend!"
Before Obanai could respond; Throat oddly stuck with a lump, he found himself caught up in a familiar embrace, Kyojuro’s arms wrapping around him with an exuberance that left him breathless. It was the kind of greeting that was uniquely Rengoku, as comforting as it was overwhelming. He found himself curling around it. Standing on the tip of his toes so he could rest his chin on the other's neck, just to soak it all in. The comfort, the safety.
It had been too long, truly.
"Kyojuro," he replied with a small smile, his voice soft in a way that only close proximity would have made it heard. "You're as loud as ever."
"And you're as quiet as ever," Kyojuro laughed, releasing him and stepping back, his eyes studying him with unmistakable genuine warmth even as he reached up to pat Kaburamaru with fondness so strong it nearly burned. "It's good to see you both up and about."
For a moment, they simply stood there, Kyojuro observing him quietly as if he expected him to lay his soul bare as if he knew something was bothering him and…. Obanai felt the familiar itch of reticence tugging at him, but he shook it off, determined not to let the past dictate this reunion.
Before he could overthink it, Obanai stepped forward and, with an almost childlike impulsiveness, jumped onto Kyojuro's back. He landed lightly, feeling Kyojuro's sturdy frame shift to accommodate the sudden weight.
"My legs hurts," Obanai said, deadpan, settling himself comfortably. ''The mission you know.''
Kyojuro burst into laughter, the sound rich and full. Without missing a beat, he hoisted him up higher, securing him with ease. "Then I shall be your legs, my friend!"
''You're too loud.''
Another burst of laughter and Obanai let his head rest against his back, bandaged cheek pressing gently into the mass of flame-like hair. There was a brief silence between them as they moved, broken only by the soft rustle of the manor's corridors and the distant songs of cicadas drifting through the open windows.
"Grief does funny things to people," Obanai murmured eventually, his voice barely above a whisper, but he knew Kyojuro could hear him.
The slight pause in Flame Pillar stride was almost imperceptible, but Obanai felt it—a subtle shift, a stutter in steps echoing through to his body.
“I didn’t know you and Kanae were so close,” Kyojuro said finally, his voice filled with an apology that Obanai hadn’t expected. “I apologize, Obi. I should have been there for you.”
Obanai tightened his grip slightly, feeling the burn of unshed tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He had never been one to show emotion so openly, but with Kyojuro, it felt almost permissible. How embarrassing.
"I had a dream you died," Obanai whispered in response, the admission slipping out before he could stop it, the words tumbling forth like a confession.
Kyojuro halted, the sudden stillness around them amplifying the gravity of what Obanai suddenly wished he'd never said. His friend didn’t turn, didn’t shift; he merely stood there, absorbing the weight of his words.
“I’m sorry for the worry, Obanai,” he said at last, his voice carrying a warmth that was both reassuring and resolute. It made Obanai want to hold him close forever. It made him want to burn down every single train and expose Akaza to the sun. “But I assure you, I’m very much alive. And as long as I am, I’ll stand by your side.”
The conviction in his words was as unwavering as ever. It was a quality that Obanai had always admired, even envied at times—a beacon of strength in a world so often overshadowed by despair.
Obanai felt a smile tug at his lips, the heaviness in his heart easing just a little. "Good," he said simply, squeezing around his shoulders. ''I'll hold you to that.''
''Be sure that you do!''
As they resumed their walk, Kyojuro’s voice took on a more jovial tone, a deliberate shift to lighter topics. “So, tell me, Obi. How have you been spending your days?”
Obanai chuckled, the sound low and quiet. “Oh, you know, the usual—chasing after demons, keeping an eye on the other pillars, trying to prevent Sanemi from picking fights with everyone he meets.”
Kyojuro laughed heartily, the sound echoing through the halls. “Ah, Sanemi. Some things never change.”
He nodded, a sense of ease enveloping them as they made their way outside, the sun dipping below the horizon in a blaze of color. The manor’s grounds stretched out before them, bathed in the warm glow of twilight.
“Thank you, Kyojuro,” he said softly, feeling the words resonate between them. “For being here.”
His friend merely grinned, a wide, unfaltering smile that seemed to chase away the shadows, turning his head slightly to meet his eyes. “Always, Obanai. Always. Now let's get something to eat, you're far too skinny!”
A pause, a long long pause, then… ''Sure.''
''Brilliant, let's get soup! I don't want to eat anything too heavy, hope you don't mind!''
Oh he knew him too well. And maybe that's why, with Kyojuro, it was almost possible to convince himself he wasn't sin personified.
Almost.
……..
And maybe almost was enough.
''No, I suppose I don't mind. Lead the way''
''Will do, since I'm the only one walking here!''
Laughter and warmth.
Obanai soaked it all up like a sponge.