Work Text:
Midnight hung over us, enveloping us in the cool and comforting blanket of night. At least for me. Even before my demonification, I had always been more lively when the sky was dark and life had taken a break, when everything was still and it was just me. Just me, all alone in my pitch-dark little world in the woods.
Then I became a demon and it truly was just me. All alone. All alone in my pitch-dark little world. Daytime became the hour I had to flee from at all and any costs. I couldn’t, under any circumstance, find myself under the burning rays of what used to be the therapeutic sun. The sun became a weapon and invoked an immeasurable terror deep inside of me. I became allergic to day and night was my only remedy.
Sleep was a useless task for me. Despite being one, I didn’t know much about the biology behind the demon race. Although I performed small experiments on myself and documented my findings alongside Kocho, I suppose those are the sort of things I would’ve learned in a day’s work had I joined Muzan’s forces. The very thought was enough to make shivers run down my spine like little spiders. Saying that now, where I am, is only a metaphor, but I have no doubt that I could have the lovely experience of knowing exactly what that would feel like if I stopped running and turned myself in to the evil demon lord. I’d had a few close calls, meeting his Upper Ranks and nearly the man himself. I had only been mercilessly spared by one, and I owed him my life. Not pleasant when you’re a Demon Slayer. (Technically, even though I’ve been spared from the battlefield. A little like that girl who works at the Butterfly Mansion, named after the hollyhock.)
I had my own cozy little place to stay at for the night, but the Wind Pillar and I had undergone our training longer than expected. Or rather, longer than I had expected. The two of us never overviewed the hours. He’d draw a sword and we would immediately melt into the flow of battle. There was no time to discuss how long we wanted to play at it for. But, despite this, I saw the dark lines that lined his under-eyes, the way his eyelids hung heavy over his mauve irises. The moon quickly rose to the middle of the velvet sky, bathing us in silver and blue. I found that the moonlight highlighted Sanemi's scars nicely. It made him look softer.
I gathered my belongings and tightened the string around my waist that served as a belt. I had a Demon Slayer uniform, fully equipped, with the standard white belt everybody else wore. It’s what I should’ve been wearing, especially for Demon Slayer training, alongside a Hashira no less. But I couldn’t, no matter how much I tried. I suppose I still haven’t fully recovered from the tragedy. I didn’t see myself as a true slayer. After all, I never set foot on the battlefield, hidden away in my small living space jotting down notes and mixing my little chemical potions.
Sanemi grunted, a deep noise that resonated in his throat, in disapproval. I turned to face him, confused, my brows knit together. He wiped the back of his scarred hand over his sweating face.
“What?” I questioned. “What was that noise for?”
“You don’t have to walk back to your… abode,” he said, hesitating on that last word. I suppose he had a hard time connecting that little block of mine to a proper residence in his head, even though his own estate was completely empty last time I’d been there. Though I could also admit that my living space had only a bed and small table, leaving much to be desired in regard to a house. “I’ll let you stay here tonight.”
I was initially taken aback at the request—no, order—but just as quickly regained myself and nodded in acceptance of this fate.
My expression remained stoic and neutral, staying loyal to myself and hiding away the forbidden giddiness I felt in my stomach. I lazily shoved what was mine in my bag and slung it over my shoulder, leaving Sanemi to lead me over to his estate.
When he said he’d let me stay the night, I had half-expected him to throw me into an empty room, barely furnished like the rest of the place, with nothing but a measly futon. Instead, it was his own room. Where he had led me.
The entirety of the inside of his estate was incredibly empty, as expected. Every little thing looked untouched as though this were the first time anyone had ever stepped inside it, like it were brand newly constructed and freshly thrown into the market. The thought made me check the bottom of my sandals. It looked so perfect, I didn’t want to ruin the floors with a dirty trail.
“Where do I sleep?” I innocently asked, holding my bag over my lap, blinking one.
Sanemi studied me with a furrowed brow. “I thought you didn’t sleep.”
“I don’t,” I agreed, “but I’d still like a bed.”
He grumbled under his breath, obviously displeased with this sudden revelation. I’m sure he had planned to shelter me in his estate the same way he'd do a dog. Unfortunately, I am no dog, and require appropriate treatment.
The Wind Pillar ripped open the doors of his closet and mindlessly threw a thick duvet at me, which I nearly collapsed under. “That’s all I have. I don’t have an extra futon for you.”
“I’ll manage,” I mumbled, clumsily manipulating the huge duvet in my arms in order to fold it properly. “I like blankets.”
He huffed and gave a slight nod, waving me off for a few moments of privacy while he changed into sleepwear. I left his bedroom and slid the door closed, patiently waiting outside.
Shinazugawa Sanemi, the Wind Pillar; the only Demon Slayer to hunt down demons before joining the Corps; one of the most feared Hashira; a man who made children cry with his mere presence… looked like an angel when he slept. I had to hold myself from pushing his hair out of his face, like I would a child. Just because the moon softens his features and grants him the expression of peace, doesn’t take away the probability of him snapping my wrist were I to even try and touch him. I doubt purposefully, but definitely as an instinct. He was reserved and shut-off, but I knew him that much.
I sat not too far from him, the duvet he had given me nicely sprawled out beneath me. My lithe body sunk into it easily, the duvet engulfing me like one large marshmallow. It was a good blanket, I didn’t need a mattress to be comfortable. Well, technically I didn’t need the duvet either. I know I told him I wanted a bed. I lied. I could’ve done fine without it, floors are comfortable. And he was right—it isn’t as though I sleep anyway. I never get tired.
Except with Sanemi. He trains me to the brim of my demonic capacities, which makes the cold floor a lot less appealing.
I found myself fondly gazing at his face, admiring the careful way the moon shaped his features and basked him in its glorious light. I wanted to slap myself for acting this way. He had been uncharacteristically kind enough (debatable.) to offer me a bed for the night despite my own place being a mere ten minute walk away, and here I was staring at him sleeping.
Okay, that does sound weird. Maybe I should stop. But he’s so pretty.
A small frown disrupted the delicate look on his sleeping face.
I tilted my head, observing his shifting expression. With his changing look, his body moved as well. His brows furrowed and his lip slightly curled into a small pout. He must have been having a bad dream.
Sanemi slept on his back. I didn't understand how, I could never remain that still. Or at least could never fall asleep in a straight position, in the few moments I manage to slumber. I inched closer to him, sitting a bit closer to his side, feeling his warmth radiate off of his body onto mine.
He kicked his duvet off himself. He reminded me of myself. When I was a child.
I blinked back my surprise at the childish act. Maybe it’s because I’ve never slept around other adults before and that I, as an adult, don’t sleep. But I’ve never seen adults kick off their duvets in such a manner in their rest.
Once his movements had settled down, I carefully pulled his duvet over his now uncovered body, gently and cautiously tucking the soft fabric around him, snuggling him up like a cocoon.
It felt oddly motherly, and thinking about how the act felt motherly made me feel weird. Motherly and Sanemi didn’t tend to go together. Then again I’d never seen him properly interact with a proper child aside from Nezuko, but she was already twelve when they had met. And he had stabbed her. Not a good impression.
My palm rested on his forearm longer than I meant it to. His body was comfortingly warm, which made me pull away with a frown. High temperatures made me sick. After becoming a demon, I had initially thought that it would be great. Physically, I had been blessed with a strength I was never privy to as a human. Unfortunately, I quickly learned that the heat made me unbearably sick. Sicker than I had been as a mortal. I thrived best in mild and cold temperatures.
I slid onto my stomach and curled in the thick duvet, immediately feeling like I was being crushed, which seemed stupid, being crushed by a blanket. As well as being big, it was heavy. I crossed my arms under my chin and continued my admirable gazing of his gentle face. Well, less gentle now with the slight knot between his light eyebrows.
I extended my arm, my claws grazing over his scarred temple, not even causing him to wince, and brushed a loose strand of hair out of his closed eyes.