Chapter Text
There was a black cat in the window of Giyuu's bookstore. Kyojurou thought for a moment that it was a display promoting a new release, but then he got closer and realised it was a very real cat staring up at him from atop a pile of books.
It was a mangy looking thing, with long black fur and beady eyes that were similar to that of a crow. When Kyojurou leaned forward and tried to wave at the cat, it just kept blinking up at him without moving from its perch.
So he went inside to look for his boyfriend and ask about it. Kyojurou found him sitting at his desk, reading a book, just as he always was.
When he stepped inside, Giyuu looked up and smiled. “You're early.”
“I wanted to see you!” He replied, before coming round the desk to kiss him. “Do you know that there's a cat in the window?”
Giyuu shrugged and didn't even look towards the window, as though this information was not a surprise to him. “Yes, I know.”
Kyojurou leaned on the desk, watching as the cat yawned and stretched its back in a long curve. “Is it a stray? I don't see a collar.”
“He comes around from time to time, when Kochou-san isn't here,” Giyuu replied. “She told me that she’s allergic, but I think she just doesn’t like cats.”
Kyojurou hummed, then went still when the cat jumped up onto the desk. Before he could try and pat the thing, it jumped onto Giyuu's lap and started pawing at his sweater.
“Why does he do that?” Giyuu asked, frowning at the damage the cat’s claws had already done to the blue woolen knit. “Look, this thread has already come loose...”
But Kyojurou ignored his complaints and took out his phone to take a photo for Senjurou. “He's making biscuits! That means he likes you.”
Giyuu hesitantly raised a hand and scratched behind the cat's ear, smiling a little when it leaned into his touch. “Did you and Senjurou-kun have any pets, growing up?”
“No, my father wouldn't allow it,” Kyojurou replied, as he wistfully watched the cat falling asleep. “But I always wanted a cat! It's a lot harder to earn their trust, but it's worth it once you do. I've always liked that about them.”
Giyuu blinked up at him for a long moment, then looked back down at the stray. “How would we be able to find his owners? If he doesn't have a collar, I mean.”
Kyojurou shrugged. “There would be missing posters around town, although I haven't seen any lately! But we could just take him to the vet and see if he's been microchipped?”
And that was how Kyojurou found himself in the waiting room of the local veterinary clinic, hand in hand with his boyfriend who wouldn't stop looking up whenever another name was called.
“I'm sure he's fine, Giyuu!” Kyojurou reassured him. “Even if he doesn't have any owners, I'm sure they'll find another home for him.”
Giyuu glanced over at him and began to speak, “Why don’t we -”
Then he was cut off by the receptionist calling their names and directing them to one of the exam rooms. The veterinarian was waiting for them, with the stray cat still in the box they brought him in. When the door opened and they walked over to the exam table, he immediately peered up at them and meowed at Giyuu.
“Thank you for waiting,” the veterinarian looked up from his computer and apologised. “Unfortunately, we haven’t found a microchip in this little guy. And given the state that he’s in, I would be more inclined to believe that he had been on the streets for quite a while before you found him.”
Giyuu frowned as he reached into the box and scratched behind the stray’s ear, who quickly started purring at his touch. “I always assumed he belonged to one of the shopkeepers in my street.”
He shrugged as he watched the cat’s response to Giyuu. “It is likely that someone or multiple people have been feeding him domestic cat food. He is a healthy weight for his age and I don’t see any of the damage to his teeth that might have occurred from a diet of food scraps and rodents or other wildlife.”
“If he doesn’t have an owner to claim him, then what happens to him now?” Kyojurou asked.
“We have a fund for the care of local stray cats, so we’ll give him all the vaccinations and treatment he needs before putting him up for adoption,” the veterinarian explained, although he was still watching Giyuu with interest as the cat tried to climb out of the box to nuzzle his face. “He seems very docile, so I’m sure it won’t be long before we find a home for him.”
“And what if we took him home?”
Kyojurou stared at his boyfriend. It was an unsurprising revelation, given his concern in the waiting room and the way the stray cat was currently climbing into his arms and nuzzling his chin. But he had said “what if we took him home” and something about that made his heart flutter.
The stray would have to be kept at the clinic under observation for a few days after his vaccinations and treatments, before he would be released into their care. While they waited, they could buy everything the cat needed and get it set up in Giyuu’s apartment.
Kyojurou had been spending more time there than at his own place and was happy to build the scratching post when it arrived in the mail and help choose the softest cat bed at the local pet store. When Kochou joked that they might as well move in together, Kyojurou froze and stared blankly into the middle distance until his brother told him that his taiyaki was melting all over his hand.
It was something that stayed on his mind while they waited for the call from the veterinary clinic. He resolved to ask Giyuu about it after the adoption process was complete and the stray was settled into the apartment. He didn’t want to add the stress of a move to an already overwhelming experience for the cat.
Two days after they left him at the clinic, Kyojurou woke up one night to the feeling that something was wrong. Giyuu had gone tense in his arms and was breathing in short, painful gasps. “What is it, love?” He asked, hovering over him and stroking a thumb across his shoulder. “Giyuu? Are you awake?”
When there was no response, he reached over to the bedside table and turned the lamp on. Under the soft light, Kyojurou could see that Giyuu’s fingers were twisted in the fabric of his pillow and his brow was dripping with sweat.
He realised what was happening and whispered softly to him that it would be alright, before he got out of bed and went to the bathroom.
The first time Kyojurou found him in a terrible flare up of his chronic pain, he had frantically messaged Kochou for advice. “I think you should ask Tomioka-san what he needs,” she replied. “I don't want to speak for him, I know he doesn't like it when I do that!”
And Kyojurou had looked towards his boyfriend, breathing heavily on the couch as he suffered through the pain, and replied, “I know he doesn't, but I don't know what to do. He won't tell me what he needs and he won't let me take him to the hospital either.”
Kochou’s answer came quickly after that. “Alright, Rengoku-san. Take him to bed, if he isn’t there already. And there should be everything you need in the bathroom cabinet. I'll walk you through it.”
Giyuu hated talking about his injuries. And he seemed ashamed to ask for help, even when he needed it. Kyojurou learned quickly that Kochou had only been able to get through to him by sheer force of will and he would have to follow her example if he wanted to help him.
He poured a glass of water and brought everything back to the bedroom. He gently coaxed Giyuu's head up so that he could take some medication that would relieve the pain and help him sleep. Then, he crouched down and turned the heated mattress pad up to a higher setting.
All the while, Giyuu remained silent. He was still clinging to his pillow as he let Kyojurou work around him. “It's alright, love,” he murmured, while pulling the blanket aside and opening the jar of balm that would soothe his aching muscles. “Can you lie on your back for me? It'll feel better soon, I promise.”
With great effort, Giyuu lay on his back, and let Kyojurou lift his left leg up onto the support pillow. And as soon as he started working the balm into his skin, Giyuu exhaled with relief.
When Sabito's car was pushed off the mountain road and crashed into a tree, Giyuu was trapped inside for hours. His leg was pinned down and had to be stitched back together when he arrived at the hospital.
Kyojurou could feel the scar tissue while he massaged his leg. But he would not look at it, and instead watched the lines of pain slowly fade from Giyuu's brow, until they disappeared entirely.
He removed the support pillow and let him sink back into the heated pad. And when Kyojurou lay next to Giyuu and kissed his cheek, he knew that he had already gone back to sleep.
Kyojurou remembered reading multiple articles and forums about looking after a loved one with chronic pain. He remembered the partners with the same questions as him about the best treatments, almost as well as he remembered the ones who complained that it was too much for them to handle.
But Kyojurou never felt that way about caring for Giyuu. He never saw the late nights or cancelled plans as a bother, regardless of how many times Giyuu tried to apologise for them. He loved Giyuu. Nothing would ever change that.
The next morning, he woke to the sound of his alarm going off, and quickly grabbed his phone from the bedside table before it could disturb Giyuu’s sleep. But he was already wiping his eyes when Kyojurou looked over at him.
“Ah, sorry about that,” he apologised, before reaching out and massaging the back of Giyuu’s neck with his fingers. “Do you want me to call in sick today? I can stay home, if you need me.”
Giyuu exhaled without looking over at him. “No, I’ll be fine… The worst of it is over.”
Kyojurou sat up and brushed Giyuu’s fringe from his brow, so that he could see his lover’s face. It was much more peaceful than the night before and he was peering up at him with a sleepy kind of impatience.
“I mean it, Kyojurou. Let me sleep it off and I’ll see you when you get home.”
It wasn’t unusual for Giyuu to be exhausted after a flare up. His body had spent so much energy on getting through the pain that all he could do was lie in bed for hours, unable to move or do anything. And he often skipped meals whenever he was in recovery mode, so Kyojurou was hesitant to leave him alone.
Giyuu seemed aware of his train of thought and sighed. “I can ask Kochou-san to come over after her class. You know what she’s like, she won’t let me waste away.”
In spite of his concern, Kyojurou laughed. “I know she won’t! Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Giyuu’s eyes slid shut, but there was the hint of a smile on his lips when he replied, “She isn't nearly as nice as you, but I'm sure I'll manage.”
So Kyojurou went to work and tried not to worry too much about Giyuu. Yet he still rushed to pick up his phone when it started ringing towards the end of the day. He hurriedly answered and expected Kochou’s voice on the other end of the line, but it was the receptionist from the veterinary clinic.
“Hello, Rengoku-san? This is a courtesy call to let you know that your cat is ready to be picked up.”
When he arrived, the staff provided a carry case for the stray, who was looking much healthier than when they dropped him off. His eyes were brighter and his fur was no longer matted, having been lovingly washed and brushed by some of the vet students.
Before Kyojurou picked up the carry case, he put his fingers through the bars and let the cat smell him. “I know I’m not Giyuu, but I hope we can get along!”
To his surprise, the cat made a soft sound and nuzzled his hand. He knew already that Giyuu was his favourite, but he hoped that they could get along as well.
When he came back to the apartment, the lights were still off and Giyuu wasn’t in his bedroom. He found him in the living room with the lamp on a lower setting, fast asleep on the couch with a half finished meal on the table that Kochou must have made for him.
Kyojurou set the carry case down and quietly cleaned up. Then, he knelt down in front of the couch and opened the carry case, watching as the cat sniffed the table and looked around the room. When he spotted Giyuu, he climbed onto the couch and nuzzled his hand until he woke up.
Giyuu frowned at first, before he realised what was happening and responded to the cat’s affection. “I thought they wanted to keep him for longer?” He asked, while patting his silky black winter coat.
Kyojurou shook his head and smiled. “He responded really well to everything, so they let him leave early.”
As though he knew they were talking about him, the cat meowed and then sneezed in quick succession. Giyuu huffed a laugh and scratched behind his ear when he leaned towards him for more pats.
“Have you decided on a name for him yet?”
“Kanzaburo,” Giyuu answered, without a moment’s thought.
Kyojurou raised an eyebrow. “Kanzaburo?”
He looked up at him and blushed. “It’s… It’s from a book I read as a child. He was a crow that delivered messages for one of the heroes of the story.”
Thoroughly endeared by his response, Kyojurou’s smile widened. “Of course he was.”
He reached out and scratched the spot behind Kanzaburo’s ear that he seemed to like most and was delighted when he meowed again and leaned into his touch. When he caught Giyuu watching him, he glanced over in time to catch a sleepy kiss from him.
“Can I move in with you, Giyuu?” Kyojurou asked when they pulled apart.
He leaned back and blinked up at him. “What?”
“I’d like to move in with -”
“Yes, I heard you the first time…” He interrupted, while slowly sitting up. “Is this because of last night?”
It took Kyojurou a moment to respond, as he was initially unsure what Giyuu meant. “No, it isn’t! I haven’t slept at my own apartment in weeks, haven’t you noticed?”
“Oh… That’s true.”
“That’s because I don’t want to sleep there, I want to sleep here, with you!” He explained. “I like sharing meals and waking up with you in the mornings. It has nothing to do with last night, I know that you can look after yourself. But Giyuu, that doesn’t mean that you always have to live alone!”
“I wouldn’t be alone, I have him,” Giyuu countered, while gesturing to the cat who was now asleep at his side. “It’s not that I wouldn’t like to live with you… I just don’t want you to move in because you think someone needs to take care of me.”
Kyojurou leaned on the edge of the couch with his chin pillowed on his arms and watched the sleeping cat. “Maybe I only want to move in to spend time with Kanzaburo.”
“I knew it,” Giyuu scoffed, then reached out and brushed his fingers through Kyojurou’s hair. “But you’re sure that this is what you want?”
Kyojurou looked up at the sleepy blue of his eyes and had never been more certain of anything in his life. “Yes. I want to move in with you, Giyuu.”
His hand moved to the back of Kyojurou’s neck as he coaxed him up towards him. When Giyuu kissed him, he whispered his answer against his lips, “Alright. I’d… I’d like that.”
Very little changed in their life after Kyojurou moved into Giyuu’s apartment. But with the new addition of Kanzaburo and all the little changes to Kyojurou’s routine, he was overwhelmed with a blissful sort of happiness. He never thought he could find such joy in laundry and grocery shopping until he started doing both by Giyuu’s side.
When Giyuu’s foster father called one morning to ask if he could meet Kyojurou properly, it seemed like the logical next step in their relationship. Although he couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.
“Is there anything I should know before Urokodaki-san arrives?” Kyojurou asked, while they were sitting on Giyuu's desk at the bookstore.
Giyuu shrugged, without looking up from the books he was labelling. “Not really. He may seem quiet at first, but that's only while he's trying to get the measure of you.”
“Oh, I see!” Kyojurou replied. “I hope I can make a good first impression. I must admit, I am a little nervous.”
Giyuu glanced up and frowned. “Why would you be nervous?”
“Because I know how important Urokodaki-san is to you! And it may be old-fashioned of me, but I do value his approval.”
Setting his book aside, he leaned towards his partner and bumped his arm with his. “He will approve of you. Of course he will.”
Kyojurou hummed, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. “I am looking forward to meeting him... Do you think he'll have embarrassing stories to tell of you as a child?”
Giyuu scoffed. “You won't have any luck with that. I wasn't fostered by Urokodaki until I was thirteen.”
Senjurou looked up from his work and asked, “Surely Urokodaki-san still has some stories? I know that when aniue was that age, he would always -”
From where they were sitting together on Giyuu’s desk, Kyojurou wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulder and pulled him over. “I would always help our mother make dinner, of course! Even then I was already a big eater!”
While Kyojurou laughed, Senjurou rolled his eyes. Then he saw Giyuu’s curiousity and held up his phone. I’ll text you the real story later? His expression seemed to say.
Giyuu smiled and gave him a nod when Kyojurou wasn’t looking. It was impossible to put into words how much he cared for that boy. Every day he strived to be worthy of the trust Senjurou had placed in him since he started working at the bookstore.
When Kyojurou let his brother go, he looked at the small stack of online orders that needed to be mailed within the week. Glancing over the paperwork for the book on top of the pile, he smiled and said, “Look, Tomioka-san! This customer has the same name as you.”
Giyuu peered at the name at the bottom of the page and felt his heart stop.
The distress must have been plain on his face, as Kyojurou put a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Giyuu, what is it? Are you alright?”
He leaned back and shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
But Kyojurou seemed unconvinced and looked at the sheet of paper over his brother’s shoulder. “Tomioka Tsutako? Is that someone you know?”
Giyuu’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of her name. He hadn’t told Kyojurou about his sister yet. It was difficult to keep Sabito from him, when his passing had so thoroughly altered the course of Giyuu’s life.
But there was something about the loss of his sister that he couldn’t put into words, particularly when surrounded by the love and kindness of the Rengoku siblings. He longed for the things he could never have.
“That was…” Giyuu finally managed. “That was my sister’s name. She died in a fire with my parents.”
Silence fell over the bookstore. Senjurou was the first to speak, as he looked down at the order form in a new light. “Oh… I didn’t know that.”
“Could it be one of your relatives who has the same name as her?” Kyojurou asked, as he softly squeezed his shoulder.
Giyuu shrugged. “I don't know. I only met them once after our parents died. And they made it very clear that they wanted nothing to do with me.”
It was difficult for him to remember anything from before Urokodaki found him. He was moved across multiple adoption agencies and some of his paperwork was lost. When Urokodaki tried to reach out to Giyuu's relatives for his birth certificate, so that he could try and apply for a full adoption, there was no response.
Giyuu looked over at Kyojurou and his brother. He saw the ache in their eyes and tried to wave them off. “I'm sure it's just a coincidence. It's a popular name.”
Seeing that he didn't want to talk about it anymore, Kyojurou changed the conversation back to his suggestions for dinner with Urokodaki. He was unable to decide between two of his favourite restaurants and wanted to ask his brother's opinion as someone who had been to both.
While they talked around him, Giyuu went back to the chair at his desk and looked through the store's latest email enquiries.
It wasn't until Senjurou spoke that he looked up again. “Tomioka-san? Can I ask you something?”
Giyuu could tell from his forlorn expression that he was still thinking about the name in the order form. Yet he nodded and replied, “Sure. What is it?”
“Would you tell us about your sister one day? If you're comfortable, I'd… I'd really like to hear more about her.”
Not for the first time that morning, Giyuu felt the sting of tears at the back of his throat. He swallowed them down and said, “Yeah. I'd like that.”
With a gentle smile and a nod, Senjurou took the newly labelled books from his desk and left to shelve them.
Kyojurou came around behind Giyuu. He leaned down, wrapped his arms around his waist, and murmured into his neck, “Are you alright, love?”
“Mmm. I'll be fine,” Giyuu sniffed. “Your brother is too kind to me.”
Kyojurou let out a laugh that was muffled by the fabric of Giyuu's sweater. “There's no such thing as too kind! Especially when it's you.”
“Aniue?” Senjurou called his older brother, and they both looked up. “I can't reach the top of this shelf. Can you help me?”
Kyojurou pulled away from Giyuu and flexed his arms, while winking down at him. “Yes! Your aniki is on the way!”
Once he left, Giyuu opened Google and hesitated over the keyboard. He had only barely managed to type her name when Kyojurou came back from helping his little brother.
He hovered over Giyuu and looked between him and the screen. “Can I help?”
With a shrug, Giyuu moved over so that he could take the mouse and hit the search bar. Her name came up with a few results. Wikipedia pages about the city in Gunma and the town in Fukushima, and the Facebook profiles of people that Giyuu didn't recognise.
There was also an article about a floristry workshop, with a photo attached of a woman smiling over an arrangement of hydrangeas. She had dark hair that she wore in a long braid, tied with a soft pink bow. Her eyes were a deep shade of ocean blue.
Giyuu leaned forward in his seat, his hands shaking at the sight of her. Even after all these years apart, he would still know his sister anywhere.
He felt Kyojurou's hand on his back and heard him ask, “What is it, Giyuu?”
“I don't understand… She died in a fire, with our parents,” Giyuu barely managed to speak. “But that's her… How can it be her?”
“I don't know…” Kyojurou uttered, still staring at the photograph. “Could there have been a mix up at the orphanage?”
His memories of that time were fractured by trauma and grief. But he was always certain of what he had lost. He used to be a younger brother and a son. And now he wasn't.
How could he have been wrong about that for all these years? What else had he lost in not knowing that she had always been there, running a flower shop just down the road from his bookstore?
It was too much. The screen had started to blur as he struggled to catch his breath. He couldn't make out his sister's smiling face, but that only made him cry even more.
Kyojurou knelt down in front of him and wrapped his arms around him. Giyuu was distantly aware of the sound of him whispering something in his ear, but he couldn't make it out. He felt as though he was underwater and the only thing he could see was his sister, surrounded by flowers.
They closed the store after that and went home to their apartment. Senjurou made tea, while they settled on the couch in each other's arms. Kanzaburo joined them and almost immediately fell asleep on Giyuu’s lap, as if he knew where he was needed most.
“Will you talk to Urokodaki-san about it when he gets here?” Kyojurou asked, once Giyuu seemed able to talk again.
He shrugged. “I will… But I don't think he knows anything more than I do.”
Senjurou walked in with the tray of tea and placed it down on the coffee table, while watching them with sympathy. “You could… Reach out to her?” He suggested, and Giyuu looked up at him properly. “I saw an email for the floristry workshop. You don't have to go in person, you could just… email her.”
Giyuu leaned back into the pillows of the couch and looked up at the ceiling. He truly wanted to run out of the store and find her, the moment he saw the photograph.
But he couldn't just spring something like that on her. It was a lot and… what if she knew he was alive and had never reached out? What if she felt the same way as their relatives?
“I've actually met her already,” Kyojurou suddenly admitted, and he looked over at him with surprise. “Do you remember those flowers I brought you, when I asked you out? They were from her store.”
He remembered the hydrangeas and morning glories. It was a beautiful arrangement, so beautiful that he was almost certain they were for someone else. “What was she like?”
“She was very kind and patient, even though I was nervous and had no idea what I was looking for,” he explained, before he paused and softly squeezed Giyuu's arm. “And she smiled a lot.”
When Urokodaki arrived, they told him what they'd found. All the while he watched Giyuu in silence. And when they had told him everything, he crossed his arms and said, “The agencies were always over capacity. That's why Giyuu was moved around so much and they had little information on his history.”
“But I don't understand how they could have lost track of his sister,” Kyojurou added with a frown. “Wouldn't she have been in the same system?”
“She was, but children are lost in the system all the time,” Urokodaki explained. “It’s unfortunately not uncommon. And the same system that lost her wouldn’t allow me to formally adopt Giyuu as a single parent.”
Kyojurou squeezed Giyuu’s hand under the dinner table. He had been silent all through the conversation, his eyes clouded over as he looked at his cup of water. “Do you want to stay at home tonight?” Kyojurou asked. “We don’t have to go out.”
Giyuu finally glanced up at him, before looking over at their guests. He didn’t want to listen to their conversation any longer. There was a reason he had packed that part of his life away a long time ago.
And knowing that there was a chance he had lost years he might have spent with his sister was almost too much to bear. He wanted to retreat to his room and hide under the covers.
Seeing his foster father across the table only made the feeling even stronger. He was like a child again, helpless and alone and made up of nothing but grief.
When he had been silent for too long, Urokodaki made the decision for him. “We can order some food to be delivered. I’ll go back to the hotel afterwards and come by the bookstore tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it.”
So they had a quiet dinner at home that night. Before Urokodaki left, he shook Kyojurou’s hand and hugged Giyuu at the door. They didn’t speak about Tsutako or the adoption agency again.
There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them that they would let Giyuu decide what he wanted to do next and when he wanted to talk about it. But they didn’t see him pick up his phone that night after Kyojurou had fallen asleep, so that he could send an email to the florist.
Though there was no response when he checked his inbox the next morning. Or the morning after that. And soon, four days had passed since Senjurou had found her name among the orders at the bookstore.
Giyuu knew that he could simply visit the florist, if he wanted to. But he was still afraid of the very real possibility that she didn’t want to see him.
So he tried not to think about her or the email. He woke up next to Kyojurou, with their cat asleep at their feet, and opened his bookstore every day. His life had felt more complete in the past year than it had since before Sabito's death, and he didn’t want to lose that feeling.
Giyuu was sitting at his desk one morning, trying to convince Kyojurou that he’d been lingering too long and should go to work, when there was the sound of someone arriving at the store, and Senjurou greeting them, “Hello! Can I help you with anything?”
“Oh… I was just wondering,” a woman replied. “Does Tomioka-san work here?”
Giyuu leaned forward in his seat so that he could see the customer standing next to Senjurou. She was clutching the strap of the tote bag on her shoulder with both hands, while anxiously peering around the bookstore.
Her hair was long and dark, cascading down her back in a well kept braid that was tied with a pink bow. When she turned and saw him sitting at the counter, her hand flew to her mouth as the deep blue ocean of her eyes filled with tears.
And Giyuu slowly rose to his feet, suddenly thirteen years old again, as he called out to her, “Nee-san?”
“Giyuu -” She half sobbed, and he went round his desk so that he could walk towards her, stumbling across the bookstore as though he were in a dream. “Is it really you?”
He was much taller than her now. It felt strange to be looking down at the older sister who’s skirts he used to cling to when they were younger. But there she was, right in front of him, still weeping at the impossible sight of her baby brother.
She reached out to Giyuu when he started to cry. With his face buried in her shoulder, she wrapped her arms around him and murmured in his ear, “Oh… It’s alright, Giyuu… I’m here.”
They held each other for a while, though it still didn’t feel long enough when they eventually pulled apart and his sister insisted on looking at him. While holding his hands, she smiled up at him, and told him how tall and handsome he’d grown. Giyuu was still speechless as he stared at her.
“I didn’t see your email until this morning,” she explained in a halted voice, while wiping her eyes. “I was away for a few days and - I ran here as soon as I read it.”
“I’m - I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to you sooner,” Giyuu finally managed to speak. “I thought… I was told that you died in the fire.”
Tsutako’s eyes widened. “They told me the same thing! And I was adopted by a family, but… oh, Giyuu, were you alright? Did someone adopt you?”
A feeling of warmth settled in his heart at the thought of Urokodaki, which he could hear in his own voice when he answered, “I was alright.”
There was a sound of someone sniffling by the desk, and they both looked over to find Senjurou wiping his eyes as Kyojurou squeezed his shoulder. Giyuu smiled and thought that if it weren’t for Urokodaki passing the bookstore down to him, he never would have met the Rengoku brothers.
He put a hand on his sister’s arm and said, “This is my boyfriend, Rengoku Kyojurou, and his brother Senjurou. And this… is my sister, Tomioka Tsutako.”