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“Rain washes things clean, you know. It's a reminder that there's always a chance for something new.”
Are the words she would always say in response to his questioning on why they, grown adults, were frolicking in the rain like children. She would dismiss his concerns with a smile and drag him outside, her laughter mixing with the sound of the thunder while he simply stood there, resembling a wet cat and refusing to move. Her hair was never in its usual pristine bun during these moments– it was down and messy, damp and sticking to her forehead and neck like the vines that grew along the side of the Butterfly Mansion.
But she was never more beautiful to him than in these moments. These small, seemingly unimportant moments were worth more than diamonds or gold or anything considered valuable. Her hand was always warm against his, despite the cold rain that poured down on them, soaking their garments from head to toe. But none of that mattered to either of them. All that mattered was the fact that they were here. Together.
Together... It was a simple word, one he hadn't associated with himself for a long while now. Not since she's been gone. The rain was cleansing, she'd say with a smile on her face every time. It washes away impurities and leaves room for change. But now, that same rain that he had associated with small moments of happiness, just a harsh reminder of what he lost. Of who he lost. Of what could've been.
Together, on days where there were no missions, no meetings to worry about, when the rain came down on the roof like a steady drum beat, Giyuu would show up at the Butterfly mansion wordlessly. Shinobu would greet him, her ever present smile that graced her face seemingly brighter when they locked eyes, and proceed to grab him by the hand and drag him to the garden where she would watch the rain slowly soak his hair, pretending that she wasn't looking at him in the first place. She would twirl around, the sleeves of her haori fanning out like the wings of a butterfly, letting the droplets weigh her hair down, while he stood there, eventually and very reluctantly letting his guard down as he relaxed his muscles and walked in mindless patterns, occasionally stopping to observe some slug or worm that had made an appearance as a result of the downpour.
She would take him by the hand and spin him around. He would eventually give in to her and spin around with her, both of them laughing like little kids. They would dance with the knowledge that tomorrow might not come. The thought that one of them wouldn't be here when the other woke up seemed so far away- until it wasn't.
Just like the wings of a butterfly, everything good is ephemeral. Everything and everyone returned to the ground at some point, some sooner than others. Just like the wings of a butterfly, she was strong, yet fragile. So very fragile.
Caught like a butterfly in a spider’s web, it ended too quickly.
Her time had come to an abrupt end at the hands of an Upper Moon demon during the final battle against Muzan Kibitsuji, leaving him in the rain with no one's hand to hold. No partner to dance with. No one to reassure him that everything would play out in a way that's best for everyone.
Her one wish in this life was to exterminate the demon that took the life of her elder sister. She got what she wanted, even if it was posthumously. Douma had died, but so had she. And so had Giyuu.
But only two of them stopped breathing.
Douma was dead, Shinobu was gone, but Giyuu wasn't. His blood coursed through his veins. His heart continued to beat. But that heart was missing a piece. A hole that could never be filled.
Grief never goes away or shrinks. It is a constant in you. Something that won't shrink nor will it leave. Grief stays the same size as the day you gained it, but you grow as a person. The grief is the same size as the first day, but it takes up less space in your body. Eventually, you grow so much that it's barely noticeable, but like glitter, it makes an appearance every so often.
Time had passed, and rain was painful. Some days, he would stay inside and cover his ears until the rain ceased so that he wouldn't be reminded of who he lost. Some days he'd stand in it for hours, letting it soak him to the bone like it would when he was with her. On those days, the sound of her laughter rang loud in his ears. A sound that overshadowed the pain of loss. A constant reminder of who she was. Shinobu was gone, but never erased. It was a new, hard thought that seemed so far away at one point. Like some unimaginable dream. Something that he'd never have to fathom. It was something new that he would have to learn to come to terms with.
Something new. Change.
He was never one for change, but sometimes, change is necessary. Her sacrifice aided in the defeat of the demons, and because of her, future generations to come wouldn't have to live in fear as they did.
He had eventually come to terms with the fact that she was gone.
Some days, when it rained especially hard and the slugs and worms came out in the garden, he'd be reminded of her. The day he lost her. The fact that she wasn't here to dance with him anymore. But more importantly, her laughter as she twirled in the middle of a downpour, looking insane and out of place to most, but she was nothing short of incredible to him. He was reminded of her strength and that she chose him, despite their different personalities.
Sometimes he swore he saw her in the water droplets collecting in the petals of her favorite flowers.
She hid her pain behind a bright smile. He hid his behind a facade of emotionless nothingness. They were different, but so alike in that sense.
On those especially hard days, he thought of her words and her smile. That constant, beautiful smile she had on her face as she spoke. The warmth of her hand despite the cold rain.
Rain washes things clean, you know. It's a reminder that there's always a chance for something new.