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“Alright, so you all understand how it works? Any questions?” Tanjiro held an empty bowl in his hands and scanned the Hashira’s faces. Next to him, Ubuyashiki offered a closed-lipped smile at the group.
“Um, yeah…” Obanai began, looking back down at the folded paper in his hands. “This ‘ secret santa ’.... What is the point of this again?”
“It’s just something nice to do..” disappointment and defeat were evident in Tanjiro’s voice. They had already gone over how the gift exchange would work twice that afternoon.
“Obanai,” despite being unable to see, Ubuyashiki met the Serpent Hashira’s gaze. “There has been some tension between the Hashira lately, and I’d like there to be a little bit more thoughtfulness within the group. Tanjiro here gave me the idea, and I think it’s a great way for you all to get to know each other a little better. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Obanai sighed. “As you wish, Master,” before shooting Tanjiro a threatening glare. He unfolded the paper and held it up. “So all I have to do is get a gift for Mitsuri? Should be easy enough.”
Tanjiro balked. “Uh-um, um, Iguro-san, sorry…um…you’re not supposed to tell anyone who’s name you have.” he turned to give an apologetic look at Ubuyashiki, “We have to re-draw names again.”
By the time everyone had redrawn names for the third time, Tanjiro explained the rules again, and Ubuyashiki told them when they should have their gifts ready by, it was nearly dinner time and Sanemi was starving. He was the first to leave the Hashira meeting after the master had dismissed them, eager to get home and cook dinner.
Unfortunately for him, Tengen had other plans. “Shinazugawa!”
The sound of his name only made Sanemi walk faster.
“Shinazugawa, wait up!”
Fuck.
He turned around to find the Sound Hashira catching up to him, a shit-eating-grin plastered on his face.
“Shinazugawa. Whose name do you have?”
“Like I’d tell you,” Sanemi barked. “This whole thing is fucking stupid, anyway.” He turned to leave, but Tengen followed. It was a shame both of their estates were in the same direction.
“Do you have… me ?” Tengen asked, the banshee grin never leaving his face.
“No. And I wouldn’t tell you even if I did. Quit asking.” Sanemi responded sharply.
“Alright, fine. You’re a real buzzkill, you know that? No fun at all. None.” Tengen frowned and gave a thumbs down gesture. “But get this -” his voice dropped to a whisper even though nobody else was around, “Iguro’s pissed he didn’t get Mitsuri after the third draw. He’s trying to find out who has her name so they can switch. Seems like he’s got it bad for her, and it’s too bad too, because he’s a handsome guy and she’s drop dead gorgeous. I don’t know why they don’t just spend a night together and see what happens –”
“For the love of god. Shut the fuck up, Uzui,” Sanemi was exasperated. “I don’t give a fuck about those two and their lovey dovey ‘ will-they-won’t-they ’ shit. I’m just trying to get home after a long day, so can you shut the fuck up already?”
Tengen scoffed, “Ha, that’s classic Shinazugawa right there. Always a real peach.”
The Sound Estate came into view and Sanemi sighed with relief. Tengen’s wives were waiting by the gate waving and calling their husband’s name as he got closer.
“Well if it isn’t the three most beautiful women I’ve ever seen!” Tengen called out and jogged ahead of Sanemi. Looking back, he called out, “Later, Shinazugawa! Good luck with your shitty attitude!” before wrapping his arms around the women and ushering them inside.
By the time Sanemi got home, his stomach was audibly growling. He made food quickly and scarfed it down without even tasting it. After he had cleaned the kitchen, he drew himself a bath and got undressed, careful to empty his pockets and place the contents on the windowsill.
He almost forgot about the secret santa situation entirely, but when he pulled the crumpled paper from the folds of his clothes and laid it flat on the edge of the window, Sanemi couldn’t help but roll his eyes and groan.
Giyu passed by shop after shop, disappointed that he couldn’t find what he was looking for. With the cold weather coming soon, he assumed it would have been easy to find the gift he had in mind at the market, but it was looking more and more like he would return home empty handed.
He tucked his hair behind his ears and frowned. Other than finding a gift for Obanai, Giyu was also on the hunt for a new hair tie for himself. During a recent mission, he had lost his favorite silk ribbon and couldn’t find it for the life of him. It was difficult enough to slay the demon with his inky locks sticking to the back of his neck and obscuring his vision, and when he retraced his steps after the fight, the ribbon was nowhere to be found.
Since then, he had tried using elastic bands, hair clips, and even a pink and yellow headband with honey bees on it that Mitsuri let him borrow, but they all either tugged on his hair or looked plain ridiculous. The usually cool and collected Water Hashira was finding himself frustrated more and more lately, primarily because of how unruly his hair was becoming, and a few nights ago he seriously contemplated cutting it all off in a moment of heated aggravation.
But it didn’t look like he’d be able to find either of the things he was shopping for today.
Resigning himself to another day of tangles and frizz, Giyu began home. He only knew of one other town within a reasonable distance that might have the items he was looking for, but he was pretty sure it was a lost cause.
Giyu whistled for Kanzaburo, indicating that it was time to go home. When his crow finally swooped down from the tree above him, he was accompanied by Tanjiro’s crow, Matsuemon.
Confused, Giyu looked at both crows hovering just in front of him.
“Matsuemon? What are you doing here?”
The bird cawed in reply before nodding its beak toward a noodle shop across the street. He flapped his wings and ascended to perch on a hand painted sign that read: Udon.
Assuming this meant Tanjiro was inside, Giyu entered the shop. His assumptions proved to be correct; Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Genya were sitting together in a far corner of the restaurant. Giyu quickly realized he had no intention of chatting with the blonde, the boar headed kid, and the younger Shinazugawa, but before he could leave a waitress approached him and spoke loudly.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Giyu flinched at the attention she drew to their interaction. And, just as he feared, Tanjiro heard the woman and called across the room.
“Giyu-san?!” Tanjiro stood up and waved. “Giyu-san! What a surprise! Come join us!”
Giyu reluctantly nodded and sat down with the 4 boys.
“Hello.” His voice was calm, expertly containing his social anxiety and the awkwardness of the situation.
“The 4 of us were just returning from a mission together and stopped in here to get something to eat. What brings you here, Giyu-san?” Tanjiro spoke through a mouthful of noodles.
“I was shopping.” Giyu responded flatly.
“Oh?” Tanjiro slurped. “What are you shopping for?”
“A gift for the…secret…satan..?” Giyu raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was speaking correctly.
Zenitsu giggled. “I think you mean secret santa . ‘Satan’ is something else, I think.”
“Sure,” Giyu sighed, “I’m trying to find something for my secret santa but I couldn’t find what I was looking for.”
Tanjiro thought for a moment before speaking. “I’m not sure that I’m allowed to get involved with your secret santa efforts since I’m facilitating the exchange, but nobody specifically told me that I couldn’t. Maybe I can help? Who do you have to get a gift for?”
“Iguro. I wanted to find matching hats for him and Kaburamaru. I think he would like that,” a small smile slipped across Giyu’s features and he nodded, “but I can’t find any small enough for Kaburamaru that also match one big enough for Iguro.” His smile turned into a flat line and he furrowed his eyebrows.
“Where would you even find such a small hat?” Zenitsu spoke up again, genuinely curious.
“I’m not even sure. I tried the shop that sells children’s clothes but they didn’t sell hats.” Giyu shrugged.
“I wonder if you could find someone to make them for you. Commissioned or something, you know?” Tanjiro suggested.
Giyu hummed and nodded, “That’s not a bad idea, Tanjiro. But I don’t even know where I would find someone who could make hats.”
It was quiet at the table, save for the sound of Inosuke happily chewing and slurping and chomping away in his own little world. Finally, Genya cleared his throat. “Um, Aniki might be able to..”
The entire table, including Inosuke, turned to look at Genya. Their expressions revealed variations of disbelief, surprise, and interest.
Genya continued, “Yeah. When we were kids he would make us hats and gloves and socks every winter. And for our mom, too. He’s really good at it! Or, at least, he was good at it when we were younger.” He slumped forward, head looking down. “He was good at all types of stuff. He’s one of those people that’s just good at everything he does.” Genya’s eyes grew extra shiny and he blinked to force the tears away. “Sorry.”
Tanjiro reached across the table and placed a hand over Genya’s. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Genya.” And then to Giyu: “Giyu-san, what do you think? Maybe you could talk to Shinazugawa-san about making some hats for Obanai and Kaburamaru?”
Giyu could see it in his mind:
> He arrives at the Wind Estate to find Sanemi training in the courtyard.
> “Shinazugawa, I was wondering if you could help me with something – ” Giyu begins to ask, but he’s cut off by a bokuto sword whizzing by dangerously close to his head.
> “Get the fuck out!” Sanemi yells.
> “Ok then. Goodbye.” Giyu leaves.
But that seems to be the worst case scenario. It’s not like he has much to lose in the way of Sanemi’s friendship, and he really wants to see if he can’t undo some of the animosity Obanai feels toward him. It’s worth a shot, he supposed.
“Thank you for the suggestion, Genya. This is helpful. I still have 1 more town to check, but if I don’t find what I’m looking for, I might just ask Sanemi if he has any suggestions.”
The waitress from before approached their table and looked at Giyu. “Would you like to order anything, sir?”
Just as Giyu predicted, Sanemi was training in the courtyard of the Wind Estate. Fortunately, Sanemi didn’t throw his bokuto sword like a javelin toward Giyu’s face, but rather he merely stopped what he’s doing and let the wooden sword fall to his side. He watched Giyu approach with sharpened, narrowed eyes.
“Shinazugawa. Good morning.” Giyu stepped over the threshold of Sanemi’s courtyard and walked tentatively toward him.
Sanemi didn’t respond; he just stared and waited for Giyu to state his business.
“Shinazugawa. I would like to ask for your help with something,” Giyu spoke plainly.
Sanemi scoffed and a deranged, Cheshire cat grin erupted on his face. “You what ? Do you need help getting your ass kicked ?” He punched one of his fists into his other open palm.
Giyu frowned, “Um, no. It’s for that secret santa…thing…”
Sanemi raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his bare chest.
“You see, I have to get Iguro a gift. And I’ve been looking for something in particular but I haven’t had any luck finding it. So I was wondering if you might be able to help me..make it?” Giyu’s body tensed as if he was expecting Sanemi to attack him where he stood.
It was unusual to see Sanemi contemplating, but Giyu supposed it was better than resorting to violence. The silence between the two Hashira grew and Giyu’s skin was itching with awkwardness.
“I wanted to find matching hats for him and Kaburamaru,” Giyu elaborated, unable to tolerate the silence any longer.
Sanemi leaned his head back a little and stared at Giyu down the bridge of his nose. Another minute of silence.
“So…will you help me?” Giyu hoped the annoyance he felt wasn’t apparent in his tone.
Sanemi looked him up and down, not bothering to hide the way his eyes lingered over certain parts of Giyu’s frame. He brought a hand up to his chin and tilted his head to the side, as if observing a work of art.
“You look different.” Sanemi concluded.
If it wasn’t bad enough to need Sanemi’s help in the first place, now he has to endure his commentary? Giyu was beginning to think the hats just weren’t going to happen.
“Um..ok,” Giyu shrugged.
Sanemi walked forward, his wild eyes never leaving Giyu’s face, until they were almost toe to toe. Giyu looked for the characteristic volatility in Sanemi’s stare that the Wind Hashira had come to be known for, but all he could find in those tired, lilac eyes was a neutral curiosity.
Giyu tried not to blush. Sanemi was even more striking up close than he was at a distance, and Giyu found him all the more handsome without the usual standoffish chip on his shoulder.
Flustered, Giyu tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.
“Yeah. That’s it,” Sanemi nodded, “your hair. It’s different. But I can’t put my finger on it...”
Giyu looked down at the ground, breaking their eye contact to try to hide the embarrassment he felt under Sanemi’s gaze. “I lost my hair tie,” he mumbled.
When he looked back up at Sanemi, the blush had all but disappeared from his complexion. Sanemi didn’t look away. In fact, his eyes flickered back and forth between Giyu’s own - an impossibly soft moment shared between them that hatched a cloud of butterflies in both of their chests.
After a tense moment of quiet, Sanemi cleared his throat. “You don’t have that stupid ponytail anymore,” he said as he reached up and carded his fingers through the messy locks at Giyu’s hairline.
Giyu flinched instinctively, unsure what Sanemi was getting at.
“It looks better like this.” Sanemi declared, letting his hand fall back to his side. The gesture was so uncharacteristically intimate that Giyu wasn’t sure if he had just imagined it, but the Wind Hashira acted as if it were no big deal.
“Yeah, uh, thanks, I guess? It’s been pretty annoying without anything to tie it back with. But I can’t find a hair tie that I like, so. This is it.” Giyu shrugged. By now, the lock of hair that he had just tucked behind his ear had fallen into his face again. “So, is it a ‘ no ’ to you helping me with Iguro’s gift or?”
The smile that spread across Sanemi’s face nearly knocked Giyu on his back. It wasn’t the manic, terrifying smile that Giyu knew him to have. Rather, it was a big, normal, natural smile that Giyu would expect from someone like Rengoku.
“Yeah, I’ll help you. I’m assuming you want to make them with wool, right?” Sanemi took a step back and picked up the wooden sword again, all evidence of the quiet moment they just shared disappearing into thin air.
“I don’t know. I guess. Is that good?” Now it was Giyu’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
Sanemi slung the bokuto over his shoulder with one hand and placed the other on his hip. “Yeah, it’s fine. I have the needles but you’ll have to get the wool at the market. To be clear: I’m not doing it for you - I’ll teach you how to knit and then you can do it yourself. That shit always takes longer than you think it will, and I don’t have the time.”
Giyu nodded. “That would be just fine. Thank you, Shinazugawa.” He said, bowing at the Wind Hashira.
“Don’t do that,” Sanemi waved away Giyu’s gesture. “It’s been a while since I broke out the old knitting needles anyway, so this should be fun.”
“Sure. So when do we start?” The ease with which this conversation was happening was surreal to Giyu. “I believe we have 2 weeks before the next Hashira meeting, right?”
“Yeah, something like that,” Sanemi nodded, “We can go into town today if you want. I know a woman who sells hand dyed fibers if you want that.”
“I’ll follow your lead, Shinazugawa. I don’t know the first thing about making hats. Just pretend I’m your student, assume I know nothing.”
Giyu could have sworn he heard Sanemi mumble something like, “I already assume you know nothing,” but when he asked, Sanemi denied it.
The market was packed. On the way there, they hardly spoke but Giyu kept catching Sanemi looking at him out of the corner of his eye. It was equal parts uncomfortable and flattering.
He followed the Wind Hashira through the crowd. This must have been Sanemi’s regular market, Giyu assumed, based on how effortlessly he wove through the vendor stalls and hoards of customers.
“Is it always like this?” Giyu had to shout to be heard over the sound of the crowd.
Sanemi stopped for a minute and looked around, “Yeah, for the most part. This is the biggest market within 5 kilometers so it’s usually pretty busy. There’s a shortcut we can take that will get us to the wool seller. Here,” Sanemi grabbed Giyu’s wrist and pulled him through waves of customers, into a ramen shop, and through the back door to a quiet alleyway.
Before Giyu could even ask what they were doing trespassing through the kitchen of a restaurant, the chef behind the counter called out to Sanemi and waved, “Long time no see, kid! Stop by sometime soon so you can fill me in on all your adventures.”
Sanemi laughed in response, “Will do, Tanaka-san. Send my regards to your family.” He nodded to the old man just before the two Hashira slipped out the back door.
The interaction was brief and frankly unbelievable to Giyu, who never imagined Sanemi could be on friendly terms with, quite literally, anyone.
Sanemi kept his hold on Giyu’s wrist as they walked, even though the crowd had dwindled significantly. Giyu noticed but he didn’t say anything, enjoying the heat on his skin underneath Sanemi’s palm. The street was still lined with shop stalls and vendors calling out to advertise their wares.
“Shinazugawa,” Giyu slowed, offering some resistance to Sanemi’s pull, “didn’t we just walk by the yarn?”
Sanemi looked back over his shoulder at the vendor Giyu was talking about.
“Nah,” he shook his head, “that woman charges too much and her stuff isn’t good quality.” He gave a gentle tug on Giyu’s wrist to hurry them along and added, “Don’t worry, we’re almost at the shop.”
They arrived at a dead end lined with vendor carts selling fabrics and textiles of all kinds.
“Well, looks like Sanemi-kun finally decided to visit us again, ladies!” An old voice rang through the air, followed by a chorus of affectionate cheers and greetings at Sanemi’s arrival.
Five women, clearly grandmothers, hoisted themselves from the stools on which they sat and waddled over to where the two Hashira stood. Giyu looked up at Sanemi, entirely unsure how to interpret the women fawning over him.
“Sanemi-kun! It’s been too long, we missed you,”
“He’s looking as handsome as ever, isn’t he, Sachiko?”
“Those eyes! Oh, Sanemi-kun, you’re so adorable.”
“You’re not working too much, right? Are you eating enough?”
“Oh, I was just telling my niece about you the other day, Sanemi-kun. Are you sure you don’t have time for dating?”
Sanemi laughed, but didn’t so much as blush at the attention. In fact, Giyu noticed that he seemed completely in his element - not a single emotional wall present among them. It was startling and uncomfortable but surprisingly refreshing to watch Sanemi interact with the market women as if they were his favorite aunts at a family reunion.
Something about the scene playing out before him caused a swell of admiration to form in Giyu’s chest. Who would have guessed Shinazugawa Sanemi of all people could pass the grandmother test?
After the commotion had somewhat died down, Sanemi nodded his head over to Giyu, “This is my colleague, Tomioka Giyu.”
Giyu didn’t even know Sanemi could say his name without an undertone of violence in his voice. He liked the way Sanemi said it.
“He’s looking for wool yarn. Lightweight and worsted, of course. And, uh,” turning to Giyu, Sanemi asked, “what color are you looking for, Tomioka?”
He could feel each woman staring at him in excited anticipation. “Um, I’m not sure. What do you recommend?”
It was a boring answer that opened a Pandora’s box of suggestions and debate between the women, with Sanemi offering his own two cents since he personally knew Obanai and Obanai’s preferences. By the end, they had settled on a skein of vibrant red and a skein of earthy gold.
Giyu pulled a handful of crumpled up bills from his haori pocket and handed them to one of the women. He turned to Sanemi, “Will this be enough, or should I get more?”
Sanemi thought for a moment, calculating the yardage and doing some quick math in his head before shaking his head, “Nah, this should be fine.”
Sanemi bowed deeply toward the women, offering a bright and cheeky smile that almost killed Giyu where he stood. Just before they turned to leave, he assured them, “Yes, yes, I’ll come back and visit again soon. I promise. – Yes, I know it’s been too long. – I’m eating plenty, don’t worry. – Thank you for having just what we needed, as always. – I pray for your and your family’s health and prosperity. – See you next time.” before turning on his heels and yanking Giyu back in the direction from which they came.
They turned a corner and Giyu could only stare incredulously at Sanemi as if he were someone other than the volatile Wind Hashira.
“What.” Sanemi snapped, peeking over at Giyu from the corner of his eye as they walked.
Giyu did his best to hold back a smirk, “Nothing..it’s just that I never would have thought I’d see the day where old ladies swooned over you, Shinazugawa. That was definitely something.”
Sanemi grumbled something under his breath, “Just because I can’t stand you , doesn’t mean I’m a complete asshole.”
The following day, Giyu arrived at the Wind Estate bright and early, ready to learn how to make hats for Obanai and Kaburamaru. As he slid the gate open he was nearly tackled to the ground by a pair of fluffy, white dogs. Fortunately, they only managed to trap him with his back to the courtyard wall, but for a moment Giyu thought they would devour him whole.
Dogs and Tomioka Giyu were like oil and water.
He was saved by the sound of Sanemi calling out from the engawa and beckoning the dogs from where they pawed at Giyu’s body. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Giyu dusted the pawprints from his haori and trousers before looking up at Sanemi, who had both dogs on their backs next to him and he was rubbing their bellies.
After a moment, Sanemi stood up from where he crouched and his expression grew suspicious.
“What was that, Tomioka?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “These dogs don’t have an aggressive bone in their body, but they seemed to
hate
you. I’ve never seen them like that before.”
Giyu shrugged, walking up to the engawa, “I guess I’m not very good with animals.”
Sanemi scoffed and shook his head, but ultimately led Giyu through the house and down the hall to a back porch overlooking a small garden with a koi pond.
“This is nice,” Giyu whispered, mirroring Sanemi in a cross-legged seat.
“You sound surprised,” Sanemi huffed back, digging through a small basket containing yarns and needles. “I told you yesterday - I’m not the asshole you think I am.”
He sighed a quiet ‘ a-ha!’ and pulled out two long needles connected with a cable, as well as 5 shorter needles.
“I only have 1 circular needle,” he handed the conjoined needles to Giyu, “so I’ll have to demonstrate using these double pointed ones.”
Giyu held the needles and cable in his hands, totally unsure what to do next. Sanemi rolled his eyes.
“It’s not some impossible magic, Tomioka,” Sanemi sighed, “here - like this.”
He reached across their laps and captured Giyu’s hands in his own. Like the day before, Giyu’s skin burned under Sanemi’s touch, though it wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest.
“This is how you hold the needles.” Sanemi eventually leaned back and observed the way Giyu’s fingers wrapped around the bamboo spikes. “Actually, no.”
He shuffled over so that he was now sitting side-by-side with Giyu, their shoulders touching and knees pressed against each other’s.
“Yeah, ok, this is better.” Sanemi nodded to himself, “This will be easier than having to watch me do it across from you.” He picked up his own collection of smaller needles and pulled a small skein of black yarn from the basket. “Now, watch. This is how you cast-on.”
Giyu did his best to follow the way Sanemi held the yarn and trailed it over and under and across to make small knots on the needle, but it looked like nothing he had ever seen before and he had no idea how to replicate the movement.
“Ok, got that? Now you try.” Sanemi held the end of a ball of yarn to Giyu, expectantly.
Giyu looked at the yarn, and then up at Sanemi. Their eyes met for only a moment but it felt like forever. The patience in Sanemi’s expression was disarming and captivating at the same time.
“Uh,” Giyu stuttered, twisting the yarn over the needle.
“Not quite,” Sanemi interjected, “like this. ” Giyu watched again. And again. And again. Sanemi’s fingers moved with impressive skill, wrapping and hooking and weaving nothing into something right before Giyu’s eyes. When he was satisfied with his demonstration, he put the work down in his lap and gestured for Giyu to try.
With a furrowed brow, Giyu managed to cast on a handful of stitches before he forgot the movements and started tangling things together.
Sanemi let out an amused sigh, “Ah, almost. You had it for a second but you got too in-your-head about it. Try it like this,” Sanemi reached an arm around Giyu’s back and held both of his hands in the correct position. Because of the reach, Sanemi’s chin had to nearly rest over Giyu’s shoulder and the warm breath on his ear sent a shiver down Giyu’s spine.
Sanemi smelled faintly like pine and sweat. He breathed deeply and patiently like the ocean’s tide - a calming rhythm that nearly swept Giyu away. Who was this man with his arms wrapped around him? This wasn’t the Shinazugawa Sanemi that Giyu knew, no. In fact, this seemed a lot like the gentle big brother that Genya always talked about from childhood. Giyu felt the corners of his lips pull up into an easy smile.
Sanemi moved their fingers through each stitch, guiding Giyu in the steps until the entire first row of knitting was on the needle, “Nice job, Tomioka.”
Giyu laughed, “I didn’t really do anything, you know. You did it for me.”
Sanemi let go of Giyu’s hands and turned his attention toward the garden before them. He shrugged, “You’ll get it. Just gotta keep practicing.”
“You know, Sanemi,” Giyu spoke before he even realized it, “I really appreciate you teaching me how to knit. You have no idea how long I searched for Iguro’s gift without success.”
Sanemi stood up next to him and stretched his arms above his head, “Yeah, I bet it’d be hard to find something small enough for the snake.” he turned back to Giyu, “Most normal people aren’t trying to give a hat to a snake in the first place though, so.”
There was an awkward silence, as Giyu wasn’t sure if he should feel defensive against Sanemi’s comment or if it was as simple as a lighthearted jab. He shrugged, “I just wanted to think of something special that they’d both like. You know, maybe Iguro wouldn’t hate me so much if he liked the gift.”
“Hm,” Sanemi nodded, “makes sense. Anyway, are you hungry? Iguro’s coming over to spar later so you probably don’t want him to see what you’re working on. But I’m about to go make lunch if you’re interested.”
They ate together in comfortable silence on the front steps of the Wind Estate before Giyu eventually took his leave and went home with a smile on his face.
The hats were almost done. And it was a good thing too, because the next Hashira meeting was tomorrow and they needed to have their gifts ready to exchange. Giyu had spent more time at the Wind Estate in the previous two weeks than he ever thought he would, and for the most part it was relatively relaxed. There were a couple of instances where Sanemi’s dogs would make their way outside while they were knitting on the engawa and bee-line it to Giyu, but Sanemi managed to intercept them and shoo them back inside without bloodshed.
Sanemi had been away on a mission for the past 2 days, and Giyu was excited to show him the progress he’d made on the hats since the last time they saw each other. Things between them were strange - when it was just the two of them, Sanemi was carefree and easy to be around. But when the attendants at the Wind Estate were around, or when another Hashira arrived to spar with Sanemi, he returned to the callous bully that he had always been.
When Sanemi came to the door, he was covered in bruises and had a laceration on his forearm from his elbow to his wrist.
“Shinazugawa,” Giyu gasped.
Sanemi shrugged, though it was clear he was in pain, “Eh, it’s whatever. You know how it is.”
Giyu did know how it is. Even lower ranked demons could be incredibly powerful, and the Hashira really had no way to know just how strong one would be until they came face to face.
“But come in,” Sanemi stood aside to let Giyu kick off his sandals, “you said you were going to work on things while I was gone. I want to see how much you were able to get done.”
It was a particularly windy day and the back garden of the Wind Estate was no exception. Giyu made himself comfortable as he had so many times lately and pulled the work in progress from his bag.
Sanemi studied the hats and nodded, pleased, “Not bad, Tomioka. I was expecting you to totally fuck it up, but you did good.”
Giyu was ready to defend himself but when he caught Sanemi’s playful smile, his indignation melted away into silly banter. “Well, my teacher wasn’t half-bad, I guess.”
“Damn right,” Sanemi stood tall, chest proud at the fact that his student was succeeding.
The last thing to do was to cast-off the few stitches left at the crown of the hats and weave the end of the yarn into the stitches so it would look seamless.
“This part is a little tricky,” Sanemi sat down next to Giyu. This had become their default arrangement: shoulder-to-shoulder, knees touching, with Sanemi occasionally hugging Giyu from behind so he could guide his hands if necessary. “Let me show you with a few stitches, and then you can do it yourself.”
By now, Sanemi didn’t bother trying to maintain even the smallest semblance of personal space. He hooked his chin over Giyu’s shoulder to watch as he moved their hands together. The stitches began disappearing from the needle, tapering the hat at the crown until only three stitches remained.
Giyu didn’t realize the hindrance his hair posed to Sanemi until the latter stood up behind him and collected all his hair at the base of his neck.
“Your hair is blowing everywhere, I can’t see shit without it getting in my eyes.” Sanemi was so nonchalant in the way his fingers combed through Giyu’s hair. “You really haven’t found a ribbon for this mop yet, have you?”
Giyu tilted his head all the way back and looked up at Sanemi. Sanemi’s shins were warm against Giyu’s back, and the butterflies began to swarm again between them.
“Not yet,” Giyu looked up at Sanemi, squinting from the way the sun hit his face directly in that position.
“Tch,” Sanemi clucked. “I see that it’s annoying you, Tomioka. Why won’t you just use something else to tie your hair in the meantime?”
Giyu shrugged, “I just don’t want to, I guess. Just going to deal with it until I find the right ribbon.”
Sanemi hummed in acknowledgement, fingers still combing through Giyu’s hair absentmindedly as he nodded toward the hats in Giyu’s lap. “Well, you gonna finish these or what? You only have a few stitches left, let’s see you do it.”
So swept away in the sensation of Sanemi playing with his hair, Giyu had nearly forgotten the entire reason he was at the Wind Estate in the first place. “Oh. Right.”
It took a few tries, but Giyu eventually cast off the rest of the stitches and was just left with 1 stitch remaining. “Now what?”
Sanemi was still standing behind him, watching from above. “Like this,” he said before crouching down and slipping the tail of the yarn through the loop and cinching it tight. “Well, that’s it. Nice job, Tomioka. I think Iguro will like it.”
He retrieved a small knife from the yarn basket and cut the excess material before playfully pulling it over Giyu’s head and covering his eyes.
“Hey! Sanemi,” Giyu laughed, “knock it off, I can’t see.”
But Sanemi held the hat right where it was, “...Sanemi, huh?”
“What?”
“You just called me Sanemi.”
Giyu stopped play-struggling under the hat and Sanemi lifted it off his head. The silence between them was heavy.
“I guess I did.” Giyu spoke tentatively, “I’m sorry - ”
Sanemi crouched down next to him, shaking his head, “Nah, no need to be sorry.” He tossed the hat into Giyu’s lap, “I don’t mind.”
There was another silence, heavy with nameless thoughts and feelings. Sanemi put a hand on Giyu’s shoulder to help himself stand back up.
“Alright, let’s finish the smaller hat now. It’s getting late and we have that stupid meeting tomorrow.” Sanemi stood over Giyu’s shoulders, “I know you can do this last one entirely by yourself.”
The second hat took almost no time at all, and Giyu was proud of the work they had done. Two matching hats, red and gold, ready and finished just in the knick of time.
“They look nicer than anything I’d be able to find at the market,” Giyu whispered, in awe of his own handiwork, “Thank you, Shinazugawa.”
Sanemi put his hands on his hips and laughed, “You did good, Tomioka.”
Giyu never expected to find himself in this moment with Shinazugawa Sanemi, but he found himself enjoying it all the same. The walk home offered him time to reflect on the past couple of weeks and how his perception of the Wind Hashira had been completely flipped upside down.
Sanemi had a way of teasing out a silly side of himself that he didn’t even know existed. He cooked like a professional - Giyu never left the Wind Estate hungry - and was more generous than most people Giyu knew. Out of all the Hashira, Sanemi was the most devoted to the cause, and his ability to dedicate himself to things he cared about was evident in other aspects, too. For example, the way he loved those rabid 4-legged beasts made Giyu melt with adoration. Old ladies loved him. Even knowing the person Sanemi is today, his younger brother spoke nothing of him but the highest praises. Despite his abrasive exterior, Sanemi was kind of nice to be around. Giyu’s smile reached from ear to ear by the time he made it to his front door.
That night, Sanemi laid awake under the light from the moon peeking through the windows. His mind raced with ideas of Giyu - not just from the time they’ve spent together lately but of times in the distant past as well. He thought about the way Giyu used to make his blood boil. How he would dry up all the energy in a room when he arrived for a Hashira meeting. And then, his mind wandered to today, when the wind carried the smell of Giyu’s wisteria shampoo across the garden and how it reminded Sanemi of happier times in his life. Images of crystal clear blue eyes so deep he could drown in them flashed across the inside of his eyelids. He imagined the way Giyu could light up a room with the bright smile he seldom wore. Just before he fell asleep, Sanemi chuckled to himself about what fools they both were.
“Oh, this is great!” Mitsuri held the cookbook up in her arms and hugged it tight. She flipped through the pages, “mmm, I can’t wait to make all of these recipes! I’m getting hungry just looking at the pictures!”
The gift exchange had gone well so far. The only person who was able to correctly guess their secret santa so far was Muichiro, who received a stack of colored paper from Gyeomi.
Next up, Obanai unwrapped two matching hats from the decorative paper in which they were held.
“These are…two hats?” He held them up to the rest of the group.
“Hey wait a second,” Tengen laughed, “they match for you and Kaburamaru!”
Realization set in on Obanai’s face and he immediately popped the little hat on his snake's head. Kaburamaru hissed with delight and bobbed his head in approval. Obanai pulled the bigger hat over his head and paused for feedback.
“Obi, they’re so cute!” Mitsuri squealed.
“They don’t look half bad,” Tengen nodded.
“Looks great!” Kyojuro shouted.
Obanai was pleased with the gift, and the apples of his cheeks revealed through the mask that he was smiling. “I must say, these are pretty nice,” Obanai admitted, “Thank you to whichever one of you gave these to us.”
Giyu and Sanemi exchanged a quick, knowing glance.
Tengen received a flashy bracelet with a bell on it.
Shinobu was given a collection of specimen jars and beakers.
Kyojuro’s secret santa gave him a set of hand-carved chopsticks.
Gyeomi got a set of tea cups and saucers.
Sanemi unwrapped a book about making friends (to which he scowled and let out a heartfelt fuck you to the person that gave it to him. Tengen’s smirk made it difficult to suspect anyone else).
Giyu was the last to open his gift. It was presented to him in a small box with a hand-tied bow wrapped around it, clearly done with the utmost care and attention to detail. Everyone leaned in to see what was inside. Giyu carefully unwrapped the bow, setting it down on the floor next to him, before opening the hinge of the lid and revealing what it contained.
Inside was a single silk ribbon that matched the blue of his eyes.