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The illness Yushiro had possessed, it was supposed to kill him. He IS supposed to be dead, was supposed to be, really. Not anymore. All because he met her. The handful of other doctors he’d seen over the agonizingly long years all spilled the same bullshit; he’d hand over his own good money over and over again just for them to say that there was nothing they could do. That he was supposed to just give up, lie down, and wait to die.
It was not until Yushiro had met her, that the cycle had broken.
Her. A doctor that he only met by pure coincidence, the woman happened to be standing by when he coughed up a little more blood than he usually did. However normal, healthy people do not usually cough up any blood. She was different. She took care of him, which was already well over enough. Enough to be treated like he was a person, like his life had mattered. Treatments were provided, and medication was given, lots of it. She had allowed(more so encouraged) him to stay in the basement of her clinic, where she would care for him consistently when he became too ill to make the usual visits all the way up to the countryside, or too ill to walk at all. His final days were drawing nearer and nearer then, he knew he was going to die soon.
For the first time in a long time however, Yushiro felt content with himself. Maybe it was the care he was given, the medications and treatments he needed and had finally received. Or maybe it really was her. She was a beautiful, kind, soft-spoken woman, not to mention an amazing doctor. Incredibly smart she was. Soft pale skin with red-painted lips. Beautiful eyes and jet black hair pinned back neatly with the same hairpin every single time he saw her. She was the most perfect, most gorgeous woman he had ever met in his bland, slow life…
Maybe, if he wasn’t so close to death, he would’ve met her in another way. Maybe, in his next life he would’ve had the strength to speak again, and he’d tell her how absolutely lovely she’d been in their short time together, and thank you. Thank you for everything.
“There is a way that you could live.”
… Is he hearing her correctly? Yushiro’s eyes met her violet ones as she sat there, looming over where he laid. He could live? Over the years he’d never considered that a possibility. Until that very moment every doctor, including her, had told him that his illness was terminal. It was the very reason his family had sent him away, unable to bear a dying son even when his health was far from deteriorating to that point. He had accepted his distasteful fate long ago. Why was she only speaking of this now..? Why not before, Yushiro had been under her care for months now- god knows how many. Did she not know of this before? She continued, and he listened.
Demons. She was a demon. Demon. Her. He didn’t think those two things sat right together. He didn’t want to think of her that way. Demons were evil, hell bound creatures and she was.. perfect. How could such a beautiful woman be a demon? She felt more like an angel.
His Angel.
That’s what he thought, at least. She told him everything, about how he’d be immortal, he’d be able to regenerate limbs like a fucking lizard, for crying out loud. Consuming blood, human blood… something that also didn’t sit right with him, but not as much as it should. He’d have to give up his humanity, his ability to roam freely in the sunlight. She told him that losing his humanity, over time, was a very painful thing.
If Yushiro said yes, he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. If Yushiro said yes, maybe he’d feel what it’s like to breathe without that sharp pain in his chest again. Walk without a limp. Rest easy, for once, without the feelings of lingering ache keeping him up until the early hours of the next morning.
If Yushiro said yes, he could thank her, like he wanted to before he became too weak.
He liked the sound of that. Liked it a lot.
————————————————————————
Being a demon didn’t feel much different from being human— he could breathe, blink, feel his heart beating. The only difference was that every time Yushiro looked in the mirror he’d forget that he now had a light green hue to his hair and lavender colored eyes, pupils drawn out into cat-like slits(his sister’s point was proven more every passing day, he really did look like a cat, didn’t he?) They were much more interesting than the brown eyes he had before though, so he didn’t care.
Living with her, with Tamayo, now that he knew her name(“ma’am” as Yushiro had been calling her, wasn’t going to work long term), was wonderful. The pair had even collected a stray cat within the year. Tamayo named him “Chachamaru”. Yushiro wasn’t a big fan of household pets, like how he wasn’t a big fan of small children, but he didn’t mind the little thing. As long as Tamayo was happy. She was such a kind person. Oh so beautiful and sweet. He could stare at her for hours…
He was madly in love with the woman, if that wasn’t obvious enough.
Loved her more than anyone, really. Yushiro adored her very existence. There was something about her that drew him in and made it so he would do whatever she wanted with no hesitation or questions whatsoever. If Tamayo told Yushiro to jump, he’d simply ask how high. He was indescribably in love with her. Yushiro had fallen in love with her violet eyes, ones that she looked at him so gently with. He’d fallen for her intellectual capabilities, her hardworking nature, her kindness, her selflessness. He could list all of her features and say that’s what made him ever so infatuated, and it was clear to most people who had ever seen them interact that the man was smitten.
And he would take these feelings to his non existent grave.
Tamayo found it in herself to open up to him, after a while. It was a warm night in the late spring and they for once were doing nothing but talking, he’ll remember that day clearly for the rest of his life. Her voice was low, her eyes drawn to the window but not truly looking outside. She spoke of a husband, of children, from long long ago where she never had to consume flesh to gain what her body needed to survive.
Grief was something that followed people, lurking and pooling in their chest like a weight that had sewn itself down. No matter what you do, no matter how long the weight ages with you, it is still there, and it still feels the very same in your chest. Yushiro was well aware of it, with his own sister, his mother and father even though they all weren’t dead as far as he knew. He respected Tamayo too much to prod that weight with his own, pathetic feelings. He was content with the situation they had, and to ruin it would be a sin. His lady liked him enough to keep him around, and that he was perfectly fine with.
With each passing day his lady’s trust in him grew more and more— as well as his own abilities. He was able to completely hide their house from the rest of Japan, though it took him a while. What Yushiro was great at from the start, however, was listening. It seemed that in the many(and to his genuine shock), many, many years Tamayo had been a doctor before he’d met her, she had been completely alone, because she sometimes talked until she didn’t know what to say anymore.
He remembered she was only like this within the first two years they had known each other, the memories always warm his heart.
She’d also told him about that man. The demon king, the first to turn, and the years spent by his side. Nothing specific, never anything specific, but on her reaction alone he knew. Yushiro knew what he’d done.
That man, Muzan Kibutsuji, he’d grown to loathe him more than anyone on this earth.
That vile. fucking. man. Never had he remembered himself clenching his fists or feel his blood start to boil at the mention of a name before. Tamayo, Tamayo this sweet, darling of a woman. Yushiro promised to himself he would protect her as long as he lived, he swore of it. Kibutsuji wouldn’t harm Tamayo ever again while he was by her side.
He never voiced this though.
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They met the demon slayer boy and his demon sister after years of growing comfortable with each other. Yushiro remembered that day, him and his lady watched the boy tackle a newly turned demon to the ground. At first the boy was the least of their concerns, the demon was. From the way Tamayo stopped and stood there, from the way she looked around in horror, even if it was only for a moment.. Yushiro knew he was close; Kibutsuji. They’d have to move again, make sure he was as far away as possible. They couldn’t risk anything.
“I don’t want this person to kill anyone!!”
The boy’s voice was shrill through the crowd of people as he continued to resist the street cops that surrounded him, attempting to drag him off the demon. Yushiro was more focused on the scene ahead of them to notice Tamayo’s lips open as if she was shocked; The boy, a demon slayer no less, had referred to a demon as a person. There was very few, from her many years of existence, whom Tamayo had seen acknowledge that. The fact that demons were once human. Maybe that was just enough to make Tamayo feel like she needed to assist him. It seemed like that to Yushiro at least, there was never a doubt that she was curious about the boy. Her nails dug into her arm and drew themselves all the way up to her elbow, blood seeped out from the wound and down the limb.
Tamayo’s spells were as beautiful as her, Yushiro thought. The floral patterns glowing on what seemed to be fabric most times, and it felt like a warm mist if you were curious enough to reach out and try to feel it. Tints of gold, lavenders and fuchsias in the form of lilies and other assortments of flowers.. It felt only right for the most beautiful woman in his eyes to have the most beautiful blood art, though he’d wish there was a way for his lady to cast her spells without hurting herself(of course she’d heal moments later, but still)..
The floral loated through the crowd and surrounded the boy, creating a barrier between him and the surrounding crowd. Yushiro stood behind her patiently, almost expecting the demon slayer to get up and draw his sword at the sight of a demon. Yushiro was ready to protect his lady, even if it meant getting hurt in the process. He watched as the boy looked around slightly panicked (as if he needed another attack while already holding down a feral demon, who was still frothing at the mouth and growling even with the ball of cloth in his teeth preventing him from hissing and biting) before finally setting his eyes on the pair of demons standing right in front of him.
“You still use the term “person” to refer to even a transformed demon, and you’re trying to save him.. Allow me, then, to lend you a hand.”
“But why?”
The boy started, panic and confusion were evident in his voice, his face, his eyes.. Regardless he continued blabbering, trying to make sense of the sight before him.
“You— your scent tells me..”
“That’s right. I am… a demon, but I am also a doctor, and I wish to annihilate that man… Kibusuji.”
She said it with such distaste for the name. Yushiro had half a mind to take Tamayo by her hand and pull her behind him to defend her, but he did not; that would be rude. Also, did he just say “scent”?
The interaction was short lived, yet important enough for Tamayo to put so much effort into it. Her spell, she told Yushiro to take the demon and wounded woman back to the house, and of course he did so. She spent quite some time, taking care of the incident. Yushiro was told to bring the demon into the basement while Tamayo tended to his wife, she was still bleeding heavily from the bite she had received after all. When he came back up, Tamayo called for him. The woman by this time was resting on the patient bed.
“Yes, my lady?”
Anything she wanted, he would give it to her, after all. However… he knew what she would say, and dreaded it.
“Go and retrieve that boy we met from where he is, please.”
He knew it. Tamayo had mentioned it, as they started hauling the bloody couple back to their estate. She told that stupid kid that she’d send for him later in the evening, once they had gotten everything in order. Tamayo would forever be unaware of the facial expression Yushiro made behind her back.
“My lady,”
He said, trying to sound as calm as can be. He was anything but calm.
“I have a foolish request..”
“Not every single thing you say to me is ‘foolish’, Yushiro—“
“It’s too dangerous, to bring a demon slayer into the clinic.”
Tamayo sighed.
“Yushiro..”
“My lady, Kibutsuji was there. You saw him, I saw him, the slayer saw him and if he so much as glanced to right he would have…”
Seen them, seen her, seen her and taken her and—
“He’s far too close to us as of now, please. Leave the boy to his own devices so we can move now! My blood demon art isn’t perfect and you know that, what if he follows the boy here.?”
Yushiro pleaded, he really did. He didn’t want anyone to ruin what they had tried so hard to keep, and he despised using that man’s name. He desperately wanted to punch himself in the face for using him to reason with Tamayo. Yushiro would definitely make it up to her later, perhaps he’d brew her that tea she loves and always forgets to buy more of. She very much enjoys tea.
Tamayo was calm, collected, as she always was.
“Yushiro.. I appreciate your concerns, I do. However he was very compliant with us, and I’ve already told him he was invited. I want to speak with him, it’s… different, to have a member of the corps not jump to draw their sword in an instant.”
“We might be able to get some information from him as well. Having the demon slayers with us instead of against us, that would be helpful, wouldn’t it?”
Then she smiled softly, a smile that made his heart flutter every time.
“Please, will you do this for me..?”
He couldn’t say no to her.
“… yes my lady, whatever you wish.”
“Thank you, Yushiro…”
He bowed his head, then he was off.
Finding the boy took walking a few blocks more than Yushiro had first expected, but it wasn’t too far away from their house. He was walking with a girl in tow; that green checkered haori was impossible to miss with its bright color. An ugly shade of green if you asked him. The girl, she ran ahead once she saw Yushiro, a weak charge towards him. She had on a muzzle. Strange for a human, but her eyes told him she was not. Slitted pupils were always a sign, the way she looked at him, it was like she was planning to rip out his throat once she drew near enough. At the same time, the way she positioned herself made her look like she was being defensive. It took only the boy to calm her down, just a few words and she was completely docile. Weird.
“Did that woman send you to get us? I could have just tracked your scent.”
“Our hideout is under a protection spell, you wouldn’t be able to.”
Yushiro said, rather bluntly. Track their… scent? That was something he’d never thought he would hear. How would that even work? Weirdo. Unlike their previous encounter, Tamayo wasn’t here. Meaning Yushiro no longer needed to act like he gave a fuck. Not one. All Tamayo asked of him was to bring the boy (now the boy AND girl, apparently) to her, she never said he had to play nice with them. Apparently the boy had a LOT to say about (who Yushiro learned to be his sister) the girl when Yushiro “let it slip” that she wasn’t much to look at. It’s not like he was WRONG, look at her! Anyone passing by on the streets would look at her weird with that thing in her mouth, muzzled like a dog. This did not stop the boy from yelling at him the entire trip back to Tamayo. Yushiro had half a mind to slam his head into oh so many light poles, too many, however Tamayo would scold him if the injuries on the boy were done by his hands, so he held himself back.
Even inside the house Yushiro continued to find him more and more annoying(though you, my darling reader, could probably tell that from previous statements), how dare he insult Tamayo with such rude questions! He also didn’t like the fact that the pair was ruining his and Tamayo’s time alone (though to be fair he didn’t like anyone who did that).
Tanjiro Kamado was searching for a cure that turned demons back into humans to save his little sister, Nezuko Kamado. Tamayo found this boy’s kindness and selflessness intriguing, it was rarer these days to find a demon slayer with such motives, or to find a demon slayer who didn’t try to murder them immediately despite how kind Tamayo was towards the them(Yushiro not so much). Tamayo even scolded Yushiro for correcting him(apparently slamming him in the stomach and yelling was not very nice.)!! Was it REALLY Yushiro’s fault though? He just wanted to protect his lady..
Then he felt a force rip through his talisman.
“GET DOWN!!”
It was a harshly shouted warning. Yushiro instinctively reached out for Tamayo, pulling her to him and away from the new opening in the wall. On the opposite side of the room the boy did the same to his sister. A temari crashed through the wall and started slamming itself into all the other walls, destroying everything in its path.
A demon found their hideout.
He was beyond pissed at this point, he wanted to walk to the other side of the room and stomp that boy’s head into the floorboards. Kamado lead a fucking demon into their home, one of Kibutsuji’s minions. Kibutsuji can see through their eyes, he can feel what they’re feeling and he can BE where they are if he so pleased. Kibutsuji can waltz right in and take Tamayo away just like that and do god knows what to her. Oh how Yushiro wanted nothing more than to see this fucking kid repeatedly bashed in with any given heavy object, however he was more concerned with protecting his lady at the moment. Yushiro held Tamayo close to his body, as more and more temari(yes, MORE) made its way in, zooming in every direction and causing damage upon damage to the room. From the corner of his eye he saw a yellow hued flash making a beeline for his lady.
“Lady Tamayo!”
He cried, pushing his own body in the way of the thing.
Then it jerked left in mid air. Then right. And before he knew it the world around him snapped into black.
Yushiro fell backwards, the temari’s force had smashed his head clean off of his neck. Even when he could see the directions they were going it still caught him off guard to see both the arrows and the temari move like that, it must’ve been part of the demon’s blood demon art. Even though his brain was no longer connected to his body, since he was a demon he could somehow hear and feel everything around him. He just couldn’t see. All he could do was sit and wait until his head regenerated. He felt something cool touch his back, he knew it was Tamayo, he was familiar with her touch by now. Tamayo ran freakishly cold, and he was the complete opposite who was always warm to the touch.
One time Tamayo mentioned how she liked holding his hand and brushing her shoulder against his, because he was warm. She joked about not wanting to let go, if she wasn’t laughing Yushiro wouldn’t have thought she was joking at all. That sounded like heaven to him, and he wouldn’t mind at all if she came to him just because she wanted to feel warm… Holding her didn’t seem like a bad thing either.
It took about two whole minutes from Yushiro to regenerate his head. Kamado and his sister were attacking both demons by then. There were two, great! He was going to have an aneurysm.! At least they were being dealt with…
They managed to kill Kibutsuji’s minion pair right before sunrise, Tamayo took the time to collect some blood from one of them (they were self-proclaimed members of the twelve kizuki, what morons) before Yushiro rushed her and the boy’s sister inside, they were demons after all. Down to the basement they all went while Kamado(now with practically all of his bones broken, mainly his ribs) remained on the ground outside because Yushiro couldn’t care less and he can move himself. Yushiro wanted to kick himself for being so incompetent; Tamayo was hurt. The moment the girl realizes Tamayo stopped moving however she latched on, pulling his lady into a tight hug.
“Ah-! Nezuko…?”
Tamayo wasn’t expecting the sudden embroace, neither did Yushiro who was standing off to the side. The pair looked at each other with confusion then back at the girl with curiosity, where did this come from?? This clingy behavior was unusual, once her brother came downstairs she went to go hug him for half a moment before turning right back around and running to go cling to Tamayo again.
“She’s been like this since we came down here..”
Tamayo noted softly, rubbing Nezuko’s back, of course she was going to hug her too. Tanjiro only smiled, walking over to come join their little group instead of just standing by himself.
“Well, it’s probably because she sees you as part of our family!”
He was beaming, just like any young, naive kid(even though in this case he knew more than most). Yushiro thought nothing of it to be honest, it was weird though. The boy did mention his sister being under a hypnosis before.. She even started petting YUSHIRO’S head for crying out loud(he hated people touching it and messing it up, except for Tamayo of course. How could he be mad at her?), what was her deal with touching??
“But I thought the spell Nezuko was put under only allows her to see humans as family?”
“Well yea, but to Nezuko you both are as human as can be.”
The boy continued to talk, but Yushiro didn’t pick up what he was saying. All he could focus on were small tears slipping down Tamayo’s cheeks he suddenly remembered the many… things she had told him. It wasn’t like his lady was someone who never cried, it was just.. uncommon. He supposed with what the boy was saying, it was unavoidable for her to get emotional. Tamayo’s past; her late children, she was sensitive to the topic of motherhood and family. Getting told that a young girl, a child, saw her as family, most definitely triggered something in her. Those memories she chose to suppress.
That, and that the girl saw her as human. He remembered Tamayo telling him what a painful thing losing his humanity was.
Tamayo buried her head into the girl’s shoulder, holding her tighter. She was most likely embarrassed that she was crying over something so small(small to them, at least), Yushiro could tell. He could always tell when it came to her. You could pick up even the smallest things about a person’s body language if most of what you do includes staring at them constantly.
“Thank you, Nezuko..”
Yushiro heard her whisper into the girl’s shoulder. He felt his chest tighten, but only a little. For a moment he was taken back to the moment where Tamayo had told him there was a way that he could live in this world. Oh, how bonds between people were a thing he would never understand. For all of Tamayo’s sweetness it never settled in with him that all of this would’ve never happened if he’d chosen to take the train instead of walking home from yet another pointless doctor’s appointment. If anything had changed about anyone in this room’s life, they would not be here this very moment, reminiscing and crying and panicking and loving.
He was snapped out of it when Tamayo oh so casually dropped the option of taking in the boy’s sister completely. The boy stared right at him as Yushiro vigorously shook his head no. Tamayo said “WE could take her in”— as if Yushiro would ever agree to that! Lady Tamayo!! Who is ‘we’!!? Thankfully the boy said no, Yushiro would’ve let out a sigh of relief if he wasn’t worried Tamayo would scold him for it. The boy left with a goodbye, and Yushiro MIGHT have told him that he found his sister beautiful, as compensation for technically saving his lady. Just might’ve. Maybe. A possibility.. perchance. The kid wasn’t THAT bad.
Regardless, Tamayo and Yushiro had to move again. It wasn’t the first time that they had to do this, they’ve done it a handful of times in the past. It was enough for Yushiro to know what to do immediately, what items went where. He learned from watching his lady… There were more important things for him to think about right now.
He approached Tamayo slowly, she turned toward him. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him to go get their things and she’d meet him at the door in a minute like she always did, but she couldn’t even get the words out. It was most likely because Yushiro had extended his hand to wipe away her remaining tears with his thumb. He was always so, so incredibly gentle with her. It was almost ironic due to his regular brash behavior.
“My lady, are you alright.?”
He asked softly. Her eyes widened slightly like she was surprised he touched her, she closed her mouth then opened it again, but no words came out until a later moment.
“.. Yes, I’m fine now. Thank you, Yushiro…”
“Of course.”
He nodded
“….”
For another moment she was silent, then she stepped backwards, away from Yushiro’s hand(which he of course retracted). Creating distance between them.
“Yushiro.”
“Yes my lady?”
“Go get our things.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll meet you by the door in a minute, we have to leave soon, so be as quick as possible.”
“I know.”
She said the same thing every single time, of course he knew. The only difference was that this time she sounded distant, awkward, he didn’t want to say cold because he knew she didn’t mean it. Tamayo was like this every time after he showed her any obvious bit of “affection”. He really should stop acting without thinking, like this, it’s happened before, and making his lady uncomfortable in any way was unacceptable.!
He climbed the stairs to now, most, of the main floor, and started making a list in his mind of things they needed to bring with them.
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“Yushiro.!”
“Yushiro!”
Her voice rang through the house, she was calling for him again. Yushiro “walked”(ran) in fast paces all the way upstairs into Tamayo’s study. It had been quite a few months since they met the Kamados, and a few months in the new house Tamayo had purchased. His lady had been hard at work studying the demon girl’s blood. Yushiro had seen it before, when Tamayo asked him to examine it while she went and did something else. Her blood cells were different than other demon’s blood cells, and they definitely weren’t the same as human blood either. Which is why Tamayo came to the following conclusion after many tests:
Nezuko would be able walk in the sun.
“Yes, my lady?”
Yushiro opened the door to find his lady with another letter addressed to Tanjiro.
“Can you summon Chachamaru for me?”
Of course, the feline could travel freely in the sun, which made him Tamayo’s main recipient of outdoor tasks. Even during the night she needed Yushiro with her in the house, he was her assistant for a reason now. Within the second the cat appeared in the doorway for her. Kamado has done quite well collecting blood for his lady, in Chachamaru’s latest trip back from him Tamayo was gifted the blood from uppermoon six, which was… not the easiest to retrieve. He remembered seeing his lady’s jaw drop once she learned whose blood she’d received. But since then more and more had been discovered about Nezuko and her peculiar blood.
The pair followed the cat to the door, his lady crouched down to put the letter into the little backpack strapped to him. Yushiro’s eyes never left her once. He did that often, when he and Tamayo were together and she was absorbed in her work. There wasn’t a moment where he did not take the time out of whatever he was doing to just pause and look up, admiring from afar. This woman truly was everything he lived for and he thought about this every single day without fail. Whether he was treating someone when she couldn’t, or deep cleaning the ENTIRE three story house(his lady can’t focus when anything is dirty), running tests, etc. It amazed him sometimes, how one person was apart of every single aspect of his life even when she herself wasn’t aware how much time he truly spent on her.
He’d be nothing without her, really.
In life Yushiro never married or fell in love. He remembered his career; painting. Living off of commissions was a comfortable life for him surprisingly. Earnings were enough to pay for his housing, his food and even his doctor’s appointments. He was good at what he did. He took pride in what he did. After his extreme decrease of physical health, as well as moving in with Tamayo, the constant drawing ceased. He still picked up a pencil now and then, it’s not like he spent years to hone a skill and just throw it away completely.
A patient or two if they were something to look at, Chachamaru, Tamayo, Tamayo, Tamayo, simple sketches for when everything else was finished, every now and then in a quiet room of the house. In half of these time periods Tamayo would walk into the room and stand over him, silent as a mouse, it was a talent of hers. Yushiro won’t notice she’s there until she makes a small comment and scares him. She liked his work, she thought it was beautiful. Many people have said that before, yet it inspired a very different feeling than when she said it.
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Fuck. Shit. Everything was wrong. Everything was going wrong. Wrong wrong wrong and he knew what was implied when she said this might’ve been their last move and he HATED what he was feeling right now.
He, as carefully as he could despite the urge to shake, continued writing. His lady had asked him to help her compile all of the research she did so they could transport it without complications. This time, it was different, and Yushiro’s foot constantly tapped the floor out of nervousness. Adjacent to him, his lady was writing as well, only with her left hand unlike him. The two said noting, but between the sound of pens lightly scratching thick paper, she could hear the very slight shake of the table.
They were to take this information with them to the Ubuyashiki estate. When Tamayo had first said that, his jaw physically dropped— he was always quite expressive.. The Ubuyashikis. Thee demon slayer headquarters, and they were given a personal invitation to what Yushiro could only see as a death sentence. Demons walking in to the demon SLAYER headquarters. Like? Come on? Tamayo knew he was nervous, because she felt if she couldn’t tell she’d be stupid. She was extremely nervous as well, yet she was much more capable of collecting herself.
They both assumed didn’t have time to talk, and silence filled the house up until the very last time they would leave it together.
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Shinobu Kocho could go fuck herself on that poisonous blade she carried, he mentally declared after a good hour. So very condescending, and he could feel her hatred for his lady radiating off of her like a bad smell. This was the equivalent to getting a pair of children who hate each other and forcing them to play nice for. Several days on end. Judging the looks she gave him right back it wouldn’t be wise for Tamayo to leave them unsupervised, even though Yushiro knew well if he laid a finger on the bug-like girl it meant immediate execution for both him AND his lady.
Three tiny sets of eyes watched them through the crack in the door. When himself and his lady first arrived they were greeted by those tiny smiling faces by little girls who didn’t even reach his shoulders. It was a sad sight, because he knew why they were there instead of with their families. His lady knew it too, yet that didn’t stop her from smiling when the girls started practically circling them.
“Good afternoon!!!”
“Uah~ miss is so pretty!!”
“Yes, very pretty!”
“Are you her husband, mister?”
“How long will you be staying?”
He never saw her reaction to only one of those questions, said question made his face burn scarlet and turn his head away. Him? Husband? Did they LOOK like they were married? He felt his cheeks turn colors merely thinking about the interaction.
The girls were tiny, tiny little hands replacing medical equipment every now and then when the bug girl asked. In the days that they had spent researching, they had even taken to asking Yushiro, who was the tallest person in the house by not a lot at all(tall to them), for help doing tiny things that required reaching. Like switching out an IV bag, which he had to pick up one of them to do. Yushiro could’ve done it himself but the little one insisted she do it. It was the green one— their hairpins were color coded, which was great because he wasn’t here to learn their names. Or interact with them at all, technically, him and his lady were only here to assist the bug girl.
Tamayo always found those moments adorable, the way they tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, then lead him away to where they required his attention. Unlike him, and for obvious reasons, his lady adored small children.
Yushiro also noticed that after doing that a handful of times, Kocho started to leave him alone. Those glares hidden under a smiling face were no more, and he was treated more like a colleague.
————————————————————————
Yushiro stared. Stared at the hairpin now in his hands; his lady’s. He’d seen it a thousand times, and she’d only wore it every day since he’d met her and before then, probably. But now it was in his hands, and it felt so wrong and his body felt cold and he could feel tears behind his eyes.
Tamayo was going to die, bringing Kibutsuji down with her, and Yushiro was to live.
He couldn’t think of anything that he hated more.
His lady stood right in front of him, speaking gentle reassurances, but he couldn’t pay attention for the life of him, he was just staring down at her hairpin, that would feel wrong in his hands until the day he himself would die, and stood completely still with his thoughts.
How foolish he was, thinking that he would live the rest of his life by her side. Even while working with Kocho, Tamayo dying was the farthest thing from his mind, he’d pushed it back to the farthest corner but now it was real. In a few hours it would be happening, and he’d be alone— spare for chachamaru, who she turned into a demon for his sake. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t there. If he’d never see her again, nothing did.
He didn’t even realize he was crying, until his lady took his face in her hands and started to wipe his eyes.
“Don’t cry..” she whispered softly, looking upset herself. “You’re such a sweetheart, I don’t deserve your tears.”
“Don’t say that.” He choked, he hated that he was crying, but for different reasons than she did. “Please don’t say that.. you’re wonderful.”
“Yushiro..”
His name sounded like a sweet melody off of her tongue, she said it now in the same tone of voice she would use when she complemented how well she made her tea, or his artwork. He wanted to drown in her voice.
His hands drifted onto hers, then down her arms and around her back and soon he was holding her tighter than ever before. His tears dried on her kimono, right before her neck, where he was currently hiding his face. He could feel her pause, then wrap her arms around his neck.
The pair would stay there for the longest minutes of their lives, embracing each other so deeply for the first time. Looking back, he didn’t remember a time where they had been so openly affectionate. The line between professional and.. whatever they were in their relationship was thin, but there. Hands brushing against each other under books and tea trays, her resting head on his shoulder during train rides that lasted too long, or her brushing his hair away from his eyes. They were never like this. This was brazen. Intimate. And he’d never clung onto something— someone -so desperately in his life.
“.. Lady Tamayo,”
Yushiro was the one to break the silence.
“I have a foolish request..” He whispered, like he did when they met the boy.
“Not every single thing you say to me is ‘foolish’, Yushiro.” His lady parroted back at him.
His cheeks flushed, but not as much as they would if he had asked this on any other day. Maybe it was because— as much as it ached him to admit— this was the last time he would be seeing her. He wanted to never let go. Slowly, he raised his head to look her in the eyes.
“I want to see you again, in your next life…” His voice trailed off, then he took a deep breath and started again. “I want to be your husband.”
Tamayo didn’t move when he said that, her eyes didn’t widen, but he could hear her breath hitch.
Yushiro continued.
“I want to take care of you, in this life and the next.. Please, if you’ll have me.” He would’ve said more, he wanted to, but.. yea this was all his heart would allow before he started stumbling over his words. It’s still his lady he’s talking to, face to face, and she’s so close…
She smiled, a genuine, warm smile that he had never seen before. His lady, leaning forward, pressed a kiss to his cheek that just missed his lips. Yushiro could feel a chill run all the way down his spine. His face burned and his hands shook and did that just happen? Did he die and go to heaven? Without thinking this time he leaned forward and did the exact same thing to her. Her skin was as soft as he believed it to be. He didn’t think to look at her face, and simply pulled away and hid back in her neck like before, drowning in her embrace.
He stayed by Tamayo’s side till the very end, when he was forced away to his position with a rotten feeling in his chest.
————————————————————————
Sprinting down the hallways of the demon castle that simply never ended, Yushiro had been following Murata and the other slayers for what seems like forever. In an instant, a sharp pain unlike any other shot through his chest and spread throughout his whole body, the suddenness of it all sent him shoulder first into the wall.
He knew what it was. She was gone. Tamayo was dead.
He didn’t register that he was coughing up copious amounts of blood, or that someone was shaking his side, trying to see if he was alright.
For a moment, all he could feel were the tears in his eyes.
His greatest fear had come true; Kibutsuji had taken Tamayo away from him.
————————————————————————
When Tanjiro Kamado ‘died’, it was like the world had stopped around what remained of the demon slayer corps, and when he woke once more, it came across as a sign that this was truly the end; an era of peace was long overdue.
The sounds of sobs and screams of joy filled Yushiro’s ears. He couldn’t participate in the festivities— he’d burn to ash. Instead, he had crawled into the nearest building just before the sun had risen, Chachamaru had followed, and curled up against his leg.. While others were embracing their remaining loved ones, Yushiro sat against a wall and pulled his knees to his chest. Alone.
“I knew you wouldn’t die..”
Tamayo..
A shaking hand reached into his shirt and pulled out her hairpin from an inner pocket. He was worried it would crack with the amount of things he’d been slammed into, yet the daisy charm and Pearl bead remained untouched. Pristine, as if he could still twist it into her hair.
He felt tears well in his eyes, and this time he was free to cry for as long as he wished. He pressed her hairpin to his lips and let out a heavy sob.
“Lady Tamayo,” He whispered, knowing she would never hear “It’s over.”
————————————————————————
“Mr. Yushiro, you can’t die. You’re the only one who could keep Tamayo’s memory alive.”
Tanjiro’s words repeated themselves every now and again in his mind. No matter how many years have passed, he still remembered the sound of his voice clearly— he remembered everyone clearly.
Yushiro Yamamoto was an artist known worldwide for painting a single woman, Tamayo, over and over again. His work is so detailed people have repeatedly mistaken it for photos. Since he would never face the public, EVER(he would truly rather die), the people have made several theories on the mysterious figure. Maybe she’s made up? Maybe it’s a tribute to someone who passed, maybe his sister? Mother? His wife? Wife. Maybe he’s like that one photographer who would only take pictures of his wife.
That seemed to be the most popular one, and truly, he wished they were right. No matter, the entire world knew his lady’s name. Even when reporters would come knocking at random intervals, pissing both him and chachamaru off. The shotgun sat by his door.
Yushiro’s painted her so many time to the point where he’d never forget what she looked like, even if he stopped all together. Her features are ingrained into his memory, and even if he wasn’t surrounded by all of the paintings he made, he would still be able to recreate her beauty. Never as perfect as he would like, though. Nothing would ever compare to her in the flesh.
Nothing would ever compare to holding her close, feeling her soft skin on his lips. Oh if he could turn back time.. He yearned to kiss her, to continue being her little assistant, to bring her tea every evening and admire her in the moonlight.
He would wait as long as it took, for her. They both knew that she would be reborn someday. Maybe that someday was a hundred years from now, or two hundred, or even fifty, if he was lucky.
It didn’t matter, as long as it took, he would wait. He’d still be here, painting past what would give a normal person carpal tunnel, and he would always love her.
Until the end of time, if need be.
