Chapter Text
Giyu is a sinner—and he’s fine with that. What is Heaven to his lover, anyway? What is God to the beautiful man lying in bed next to him? If loving Sabito is wrong, the way so many people claim it is, then he’ll be wrong. He'll walk through any Hell that may be waiting for him if it means another day at his lover’s side.
Giyu knew he loved Sabito the day he met him—the young boy he’d happened upon while playing in the woods. They were only thirteen, two boys with no real sense of “love” or “sin,” but in that moment, Giyu felt his heart race in a way it never had before.
They met often in those woods, and over time, Giyu learned more about the beautiful boy’s life. Sabito was an orphan; his father died before he was born, and his mother succumbed to disease when he was only ten. With no family to care for him, he’d been left to fend for himself—surviving by any means necessary. Stealing from vendors, selling the stolen goods, sleeping on rooftops, whatever it took to survive. He was good at it, too. Swift on his feet, he could outrun nearly anyone, and when cornered, he fought them off with nothing more than a sturdy stick.
Sabito was destined to live a life of shame and regret—until he found Urokodaki. He was an old man living alone in the mountains; the perfect target in Sabito’s eyes. But Sabito soon realized he’d made a mistake. The man he’d intended to rob was a former warrior, his skills undiminished by age. Urokodaki could have punished him severely; the law gave him every right to cut off the boy’s hand or have him flogged—but he didn’t. Instead, he took the boy in as his own and raised him to be honorable, and to one day pass along that same kindness. For all his strength, Sabito had always hated the life of a thief. The shame of it weighed on him, and he resolved not to waste the chance Urokodaki had given him.
Even as Sabito spoke of his past with shame, Giyu couldn’t help but feel awe. He too had lost his parents to illness when he was young, but he couldn’t remember them well. His sister, Tsutako, had always been there to care for him—Giyu couldn’t even imagine what he would do if he lost her. He doubted he’d have the will, let alone the skill, to survive the way Sabito had. Maybe his methods were shameful, but he was just a kid trying to get by.
As the years drifted by, the friendship between the two boys only grew stronger. They met nearly every week, and when one of them couldn’t make it, they always sent a letter instead. Giyu kept every single one of Sabito’s letters, shamefully hiding them under his futon to be read late at night. He knew the way he felt for his closest friend was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. Sabito was perfect, from his sharp lavender eyes to his peach-colored hair, and even the scar across his cheek that he hated so much.
Giyu would never dare to breathe a word of his affections, no matter how much they gnawed at his heart. At night, sometimes, he’d let himself dream—a brief escape where he could imagine a life in a different world, a different time. In those dreams, he’d fall to his knees in front of Sabito and declare his love, ask him to be his husband, and maybe even start a family together. But he knew these were nothing more than dreams, Sabito could never return such feelings.
Giyu was sixteen when Tsutako broke the news: they were moving. She’d married her husband, Masao, three years prior, and now she was expecting her first child. Masao had found a better job in another city to support his growing family, and they would be leaving soon. Giyu felt his heart shatter as the words soaked in—he had to leave Sabito. When the boys met the next day, Giyu could barely get the words out, his voice breaking into choked sobs as he told Sabito the truth. The boy stared at him, unblinking, as if he couldn’t understand the words Giyu had said to him. Then, without a word, he turned and bolted, leaving Giyu alone in the woods.
Giyu stayed there, knees tucked into his chest as he sobbed, helpless and alone. The hour was growing late, and his sister was surely worried, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He’d known Sabito would be upset, but he hoped they could still spend one last day together before he had to leave. Instead, he had run. It was ironic, really, a cruel joke from the universe. Giyu knew Sabito hated to not be in control, so he left Giyu before he could be left. The ache in his chest was sharp and the darkness in his mind seemed to be consuming him until a familiar voice broke the quiet.
“Giyu.”
He looked up, startled, and there was Sabito standing in front of him, clutching three sunflowers in his hands. His eyes, usually so full of confidence, were uncertain, vulnerable. Giyu opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a soft, shaky breath. He recognized the meaning of the sunflowers immediately; his sister had once insisted he learn Hanakotoba in case he ever chose to court a young woman. Three sunflowers—a confession of love.
“Stay with me,” Sabito whispered, his voice raw with a desperation Giyu had never heard, “I can be your wife, I’ll dress as a woman, no one would ever know I—”
“No.” Giyu interrupted, his voice hoarse. Sabito flinched, but he quickly continued, “I would never make you do that. I would marry you as you are.” Sabito let out a soft gasp, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“You would?” He asked breathlessly, clutching the flowers so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Giyu could barely fathom how Sabito could ever question it—how could he not love him?
“Yes,” he said softly, the weight of the word sinking into the air between them, “But how? My sister is leaving and I don’t have the means to live on my own.” A spark of determination lit up Sabito’s face, and he stepped forward, taking one of Giyu’s hands in his own.
“Stay with me. Live here with me and Urokodaki. You don’t have to leave.” The suggestion hit Giyu like a shock of cold water. He wanted to say yes, God, he wanted to say yes, but questions crowded his mind.
“But… wouldn’t he question us? What if he figured out that we…”
“He knows.” Sabito interrupted, a slight smile tugging at his lips, “I told him when I was younger, before I knew it was wrong. I told him about a boy with the most beautiful blue eyes.” Giyu’s face flushed a soft pink as Sabito continued to speak, “He didn’t love me any less. He just warned me to never speak of it to anyone else. He said there were people out there who would hurt me if they knew.”
Giyu’s heart pounded in his chest as his mind raced desperately. He could hardly believe what was happening. For so long, he’d resigned himself to a life of loneliness, accepting that he would never have Sabito the way he wanted, just as he’d known he could never love a woman the way he was meant to. But now, in a single afternoon, his entire world had been turned upside down. He was being offered everything he wanted, a chance to be with his beloved, a chance at happiness—but not without danger. If he agreed and they were found out…
“I’m scared.” Giyu admitted quietly, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. Sabito’s hand dropped his, instead reaching up to cup his cheek softly, forcing Giyu to meet his gaze.
“I know,” Sabito murmured, brushing Giyu’s cheek gently, “I am too, but I’d rather lead a life of danger with you than a safe one alone.” Giyu’s breath caught at the confession, and he felt tears sting his eyes. He never imagined Sabito could love him, let alone love him enough to risk his life for him.
“Okay… I’ll stay.”
Sabito’s smile softened as he let out a relieved breath, the tension melting from his shoulders. Slowly, he stepped closer, his hand on Giyu’s cheek sliding from his cheek down to his chest, before snaking around his waist, pulling the two boys closer together. Giyu’s heart raced as Sabito hesitantly leaned in, their breaths mingling for a moment until, finally, Sabito’s lips pressed gently into his. Giyu let out a soft gasp, the sensation stealing the air from his lungs. But after a beat, he relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut as he returned the kiss.
It was messy; sloppy and uncertain from inexperience, yet somehow perfect. Giyu found himself startled by the softness of Sabito’s lips—he never imagined it would feel like this. On the nights he allowed himself to fantasize, he imagined a boy’s lips would be rough, almost painful. But Sabito’s lips were warm and gentle, better than anything he’d ever dared to hope for. Without thinking, Giyu’s hands found their way to Sabito’s hair, curling around the soft strands as he pulled him closer. Sabito’s arms tightened around Giyu’s waist, locking them together in his tight grip.
They stayed like that for a long moment, lips pressed together, only parting briefly to gasp for air before falling back into each other’s touch. When they finally separated, their faces were both flushed, a faint nervousness in their eyes. Staring into each other’s eyes, their laughter bubbled up, soft and breathless, until they were giggling helplessly. Giyu couldn’t resist hiding his face in the crook of Sabito’s neck, his cheeks burning brightly, and his heart swollen with emotion. He felt as Sabito’s hand slid up to rest against his back, the other threading through his dark hair softly. The touch was comforting, calming the thunderous pounding of Giyu’s heart.
“I love you.” Giyu whispered abruptly, his voice trembling with raw emotion. Sabito’s fingers froze for a moment, before his arms tightened around Giyu, pulling him impossibly closer.
“I love you, too.” Sabito murmured softly, planting a tender kiss against Giyu’s hair. Giyu leaned into Sabito’s embrace, melting under his touch. He never imagined he could have this, never truly believed he could find this kind of happiness. But now, in Sabito’s arms, he had everything he wanted. Sabito was his, and he was Sabito’s. And in that moment, Giyu made a silent vow to hold onto Sabito for as long as the world allowed him to. He would do anything to stay by his side.
And Giyu kept his vow. Now, at twenty-one, he’s lying beside his lover, listening to the steady rhythm of Sabito’s breathing as he sleeps. Sabito’s face looks so peaceful in the morning light, a slight smile tugging at his lips even in sleep. Urokodaki and Tsutako were the only ones who knew the truth, but that was enough—they were the only ones who mattered, anyway. Maybe one day things would change. Maybe there would come a time when he could hold Sabito’s hand without fear, could declare his love for him openly and call him his husband publicly. Until then, though, he was content with the life they’d built together—the quiet mornings, the shared laughter, and the stolen kisses beneath the trees.