Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

the sun poured gently into the wide meeting room, warming the polished wooden floor and casting long, soft shadows from the open sliding doors that led to the courtyard.

a breeze slipped in now and then, rustling the paper walls and carrying with it the scent of summer grass and the distant song of birds.

the hashira sat in a loose circle, scattered around the room in varying degrees of comfort and suspicion.

"why are we here, himejima? care to explain?"

sanemi's voice cut through the quiet like a blade, sharp and impatient. his arms were crossed, eyes narrowed at gyomei with a scowl carved deep into his face.

gyomei sat as calmly as ever, hands folded in prayer on his lap. despite being blind, his presence always felt grounded and unshakable.

"the master requested that i gather everyone here today," he said softly.

sanemi’s frown deepened, but something in his posture eased. if it was a direct order from the master, there was little room to argue, even for him.

silence settled in again, uneasy and thick. there had been no official summons. no warning. everyone had assumed their day would proceed as usual—training, patrols, perhaps paperwork. but instead, they found themselves gathered here with no explanation.

shinobu tapped a finger against her chin and glanced around the room. “tomioka isn’t here yet. did something happen to him?”

“i doubt it,” obanai said without looking up. his voice was flat, but laced with quiet disdain. “he’s probably thinking something like, ‘i’m not like them. this has nothing to do with me.’”

a scoff burst out of sanemi. “that guy pisses me off.”

“we can tell,” shinobu replied dryly, a small smirk playing on her lips. “and you’re seriously getting riled up over iguro’s imagination?”

gyomei remained serene as he answered her. “i asked tomioka to arrive thirty minutes later. i wanted to speak to all of you first.”

“ehh? why?” shinobu’s eyes narrowed slightly, more curious now than suspicious.

“what’s going on, himejima?” rengoku leaned forward, golden eyes burning with interest. “are we going to make a decision without him?”

“oh! i see!” a loud voice rang out from the doorway. tengen uzui stood there, arms crossed and dripping with swagger. “are we finally going to fire the water pillar? extravagant!” he beamed.

“i don’t think that should be allowed,” rengoku replied seriously, rising to his feet. “it would be dishonorable to go behind his back. better to confront him directly. wouldn’t you agree, tokito?”

he turned to the mist pillar beside him and gently placed a hand on his narrow shoulder.
muichiro stared out the open door, eyes distant, following a drifting cloud lazily across the sky.

“i don’t care. i’ll just forget him. he’s not important to me.”

ouch.

“i agree with tokito,” sanemi muttered, cracking his knuckles with a loud pop. “if he won’t leave, i’ll drag him out myself.”

obanai gave a curt nod. “i second that. he has no understanding of teamwork.”

“whaaaat? wait a second!” mitsuri’s face crumpled in concern. “why can’t we all just get along?” her voice trembled slightly, lips forming a pout as she hugged her knees to her chest.

a sudden, powerful clap echoed through the room, stopping all conversation cold. gyomei had brought his hands together with a force that sent a sharp crack into the air.

the sound reverberated through the wooden beams and made more than one hashira flinch.

“we are not gathered here to fire tomioka,” he said, voice as steady and commanding as ever. “we are here to make him smile.”

…

what?

every head turned toward him in stunned silence—except for muichiro, who was still gazing at a tree branch swaying in the breeze. the sound of birds chirping outside seemed oddly louder in the absence of words.

sanemi’s expression twisted. a vein popped along his temple. “what did you just say? smile? are you kidding me? why would we waste our time with something so stupid?”

gyomei didn’t react to the outburst. “because it is the master’s wish. he told me personally that it would bring him great happiness to see tomioka genuinely smile.”

shinobu tilted her head, intrigued. “he really said that?”

“he did.”

rengoku’s eyes lit up, and a bright grin stretched across his face. “if that is the master’s will, then i, kyojuro rengoku, shall make it a reality! hahaha!”

mitsuri looked at him, inspired by his unwavering conviction. her eyes sparkled as she stood up with a flourish. “i’ll try my best too! i want to see tomioka smile! i bet he has a cute one!”

“excellent spirit, kanroji!” rengoku said proudly, patting her head with a warm laugh. obanai, sitting nearby, twitched slightly.

he cleared his throat. “if kanroji is willing to put in effort, then i will too. even if i have no desire to see tomioka’s expression change.”

he stepped quietly between mitsuri and rengoku, his presence subtle but deliberate.
“kanroji and iguro!” rengoku shouted, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. “let’s work hard together—for the master!”

“…don’t get so close to kanroji,” obanai muttered, clearly annoyed.

sanemi clicked his tongue and stood up with a sharp motion. “if you all want to play around, fine. this is a complete waste of my time.” he turned toward the door, his feet thudding against the wood.

“are you really going to defy the master’s orders?” gyomei’s calm voice floated through the room like a prayer.

sanemi froze mid-step. a heavy silence followed. after a moment, he let out a low growl and slouched back to his seat, arms folded tightly across his chest.

“good,” gyomei said with a nod. “now, let us discuss how we might bring a smile to tomioka’s face. i have no particular talent for this kind of thing, so please offer your ideas freely.”

everyone except muichiro shuffled closer, forming a loose circle around the stone pillar.

“we should start with his favorite food!” rengoku declared, raising a fist enthusiastically. “everyone smiles when they’re eating something they love!”

“that’s just you, buddy,” tengen replied, smirking. “how about a competition? we each take turns, and whoever makes him smile first wins. make it flashy. make it fun.”

“ooh, that sounds like a great idea!” mitsuri added, clapping her hands together. “maybe he’ll smile if he gets to enjoy himself too.”

“if kanroji agrees, then i agree as well,” obanai said, his voice softer now. mitsuri turned and gave him a grateful smile, which made his cheeks tinge with color.

the conversation began to pick up speed, voices layering with laughter and half-serious suggestions. the room, once stiff with suspicion, started to feel lively—chaotic in that familiar hashira way.

after several minutes, shinobu glanced around and noticed something—or rather, someone—missing from the flurry of ideas.

her eyes landed on muichiro, still seated apart from the group, his expression as vacant as ever. the breeze gently stirred his hair as he stared out into the courtyard like none of this involved him.

“tokito?” shinobu called gently. “are you going to help, dear?”

the boy blinked slowly, turning his head to meet her gaze.

“yeah, muichiro! come sit next to me and iguro!” mitsuri waved her hands, motioning him over with an eager smile.

“…okay,” he replied softly, rising to his feet and walking over without another word.

Chapter Text

“pardon the intrusion…” giyuu slid the door open, expecting perhaps a quiet meeting or a lecture from the stone pillar.

instead, he was greeted by a bizarre scene.

muichiro and mitsuri were locked in an intense arm-wrestling match on the tatami floor, while uzui and rengoku cheered them on like it was a championship bout.

on the sidelines, sanemi, obanai, and gyomei stood like silent judges—watching, arms crossed, faces unreadable.

“salmon daikon, tomioka?”

he looked down. there was shinobu, smiling gently and holding a plate of his favorite food—freshly made salmon daikon, still steaming slightly in the dish.

he blinked. salmon daikon. arm wrestling. loud cheering. this was the emergency meeting?

as much as it was tempting to accept the dish, giyuu had come with different expectations. this didn’t concern him, or so he thought.

“…i’ll be going now.” he turned without further thought, already halfway out the door when a firm hand caught the sleeve of his haori.

“now now, tomioka! don’t be like that. bonding and building friendships is important too!” shinobu’s voice was bright, but there was a gentle firmness behind it.

“you all can do that,” he replied flatly. “it has nothing to do with me.”

as he looked up, the other hashira were beginning to approach. the match between mitsuri and muichiro had just ended—mitsuri victorious, her arm held high in triumph.

“i knew he was going to say that. typical.” obanai folded his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“tomioka! why don’t you accept the salmon daikon?” rengoku’s blinding smile practically gleamed in the sunlight. “it’s only polite!”

giyuu sighed and, seeing no escape, quietly accepted the dish from shinobu. “thank you.”

……

“...you gonna eat that?” uzui asked, raising an eyebrow as giyuu stood motionless, the dish untouched in his hands.

“if you’re not going to eat it, i’ll take it!” mitsuri said eagerly, practically drooling at the sight. “salmon daikon is delicious!”

“it’s not for you—it’s for tomioka,” uzui snapped. “and if he doesn’t want it, he should give it to the kid. look how thin he is!” he pointed at muichiro.

“thin?” muichiro deadpanned. “i’m probably more muscular than you were at fourteen.” he stuck his tongue out. uzui’s jaw dropped.

sanemi couldn’t help but snicker.

giyuu looked down at the dish, then held it out. “…i’m not that hungry. whoever wants it can have it.”

“don’t mind if i do!” rengoku took the dish without hesitation and inhaled it in seconds.

everyone stared, stunned into silence—except mitsuri, who sparkled with admiration. gyomei shook his head slightly.

“tasty!” rengoku declared, beaming.

with that plan failed, everyone turned to sanemi, eyes narrowing. it was time for plan b.
sanemi tensed under the weight of their collective expectation. he could feel the pressure on his skin like a swarm of bugs.

‘for the master. for the master,’ he repeated to himself, gritting his teeth.

he took a breath. and then, in the most painful voice he could manage, he forced the words out.

“tomioka… your… hair… looks… erugh…”
dozens of eyes bore into him.

“it looks neater than last time i saw you,” he finished with effort. “and… uh… well done on your last mission.”

giyuu blinked.

“…thank you, shinazugawa.”

there was no smile. not even a twitch. but something about the words stunned him. had sanemi meant it? was this… a truce? maybe even… a path to friendship?

but no smile.

sanemi’s eye twitched. his soul left his body. he had said nice things. for nothing.

“why you—!!”

“my turn!!” mitsuri squealed before he could explode. she dashed out of the room and returned seconds later with a fluff of fur in her arms—a soft, mewling cat.

as always, shinobu’s smile remained, but her soul recoiled. she stayed as far from the animal as possible, the horror in her heart masked with practiced grace.

“here, tomioka! why don’t you pet him? he’s soooo cute!” the cat meowed right on cue, tiny and pitiful.

giyuu looked at it. yes, he was undeniably adorable.

“…no thank you. why does it have to be me?”
mitsuri’s jaw dropped. obanai’s glare sharpened to a dagger’s point.

“whaaat? why wouldn’t you want to pet this cute little guy? come on! just one stroke! it’ll definitely make you smile.” she gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth.

everyone froze.

they weren’t supposed to say that.

thankfully, giyuu seemed oblivious. “i’m just… not fond of pets.”

obanai stepped forward, visibly irritated. “why can’t you just touch the cat? it would make kanroji happy. maybe it’d even make your miserable ass happy too.”

“true,” gyomei added. “cats are often quite therapeutic.”

“maybe he’s allergic,” shinobu suggested, trying to soften the blow.

“he’s not allergic to cats,” uzui said. “he’s allergic to happiness.”

a wicked grin crept across his face. and then—he lunged.

tengen uzui began tickling giyuu tomioka.

“does that tickle, huh? does that make you giggle? tickle tickle, tomioka!”

giyuu looked like someone who had lost all hope in the world. unmoving. blank. slightly disturbed.

“…damn. okay,” uzui muttered, stepping back, defeated.

“tomioka!” rengoku shouted suddenly, drawing all attention his way. he was wearing a straw hat that no one had seen before.

“have you seen my hat? i swear i had it just a second ago! haha!”

“…it’s on your head.”

“so it is! haha! silly me!” he burst out laughing.
giyuu’s expression did not change.

not even a blink.

everyone stood in defeated silence.

then, giyuu spoke.

“…i’ll be leaving now. have a good afternoon.”

“what do we do?! he’s leaving!” mitsuri whisper-shouted in panic.

“we can’t let him leave! we’ll fail the mission!” uzui hissed.

“someone think of something!”

they were all whispering, desperately scrambling for a last-minute save, when a soft voice broke through the chaos.

muichiro stepped forward and gently tugged on the back of giyuu’s haori.

giyuu turned. muichiro stared up at him, his expression still as distant as ever.

“…i have a joke for you.”

“…okay.”

“what do you… call a fish with no eye?”

“…what?”

“…”

“he’s forgotten the joke, hasn’t he?” sanemi sighed.

“wouldn’t be surprised,” uzui muttered.

shinobu, ever the optimist, smiled. “come on, give him a moment. at least he’s trying now. that’s something.”

but giyuu simply looked at muichiro, nodded once, and turned to leave.

“i’ll be going now.”

muichiro looked down, his lips pressing into a faint frown.

“awww, muichiro! don’t be so down! it’s not your fault!” mitsuri pulled him into a hug while rengoku patted his back with encouragement.

“that was rude,” obanai muttered. “he didn’t even let tokito finish.”

“not even a single smile,” sanemi groaned.

“told you this was a waste of time.”

“maybe we really should fire him,” uzui added with a snort. “can’t even accept kindness.”

the hashira continued debating, arguing, teasing.

but gyomei remained quiet.

because deep down, he felt that none of it had been a waste. the effort, the chaos, the ridiculous plans—it had all meant something. smile or not.

—

outside, giyuu stood silently with the door shut behind him.

he could still hear their voices, faint and muffled.

but his mind was somewhere else.

he thought about the dish of food, the compliments, the tickles, the cat, the terrible joke.

the warmth of their effort clung to him like sunlight on his skin.

and before he even realized it, a small, fleeting smile tugged at the corner of his lips.