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The indigo haired Hashira with torn up, bloodied clothing kept holding her breath as she kept her eyes on the scene.
The sun finally rose.
Tanjiro Kamado managed to land the final blow, slashing Muzan Kibutsuji while he was in that monstrous baby form from the inside and his once “immortal” body he took such pride in burnt into ashes.
‘Is this it? Is it…finally over?’ The Stitch Hashira could not help but think to herself as she felt the once tight grip she had over her needle rapier wane, her hands beginning to tremble and her body hunched over.
She couldn’t tell if it was her body finally exhausting itself or the cool sensation of relief coursing through her body.
Fumiko Takada could tell she didn’t have much time left. She knew just as much when she activated her Demon Slayer mark during battle, but the woman only had two main goals:
#1: Get rid of Demonkind and Muzan Kibutsuji for good
And
#2: Prove Gyomei Himejima, the man she has pined over for years, wrong.
The Stone Hashira himself had confided in her a while ago about his past, about how he was convinced the children ran instead of staying behind him because they believed he was not strong enough to defend them as a blind man, and about how Sayo moved on with her life…
Fumiko frowned at the memory. She may not have been there, but she knows in her heart and soul that he is wrong. Oh, so very, wrong.
They love him deeply…just like she loves him deeply.
She had long dashed the belief that he could ever love her back, that he would ever acknowledge her feelings for him, so she endeavored herself to these two goals.
One of her goals had been fulfilled now and as she glanced over to a familiar Kakushi she had met a few years back, Fumiko knew it was time.
Her body trembling, she straightened her back and raised her needle rapier, a small thread of light looping around her Nichirin sword.
She took a few steps closer to where the Stone Hashira was leaning against the wall, other Kakushi rushing over to give him medical supplies as he too was dying, and threw her sword at the Kakushi she had in mind.
Sayo, the kid who previously framed Himejima and became a Kakushi as a means to repent and apologize to him properly, suddenly found herself gently wrapped by the thread before getting pushed over to where Gyomei Himejima was.
Don’t breathe…
Don’t breathe……
Fumiko Takada found herself in a battle of breath, despite having a breathing style of her own and it requiring breathing.
The Stitch Hashira had stitched herself back together from Muzan’s attacks to kingdom come. To the point where her organs were in dangerous places, and one single deep breath is all it takes for her body to cave in on itself.
Ironic how the Stitch Hashira was now in stitches herself, but she couldn’t care less for the irony.
‘Not yet…’ Fumiko thought to herself as she watched Sayo and Gyomei talking, her vision blurring and her hearing few and far between, but she knew she had to proceed.
She needed to listen, to be there like she always has…
And finally tell the man she loves that she told him so.
Then and only then could she take her final breath and let herself meet her departed family. Her parents, her grandmother…were probably waiting for her still, but she’ll be there.
She’ll be there soon.
“It’s…you…” Gyomei spoke when he turned to the voice of Sayo, calling out to him. His voice was weak, but still held deep timbre and years of repressed emotion.
“H-Himejima…” Sayo found herself tearing up as she fell to her knees, “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for what I said back then. I was so stupid, so unimaginably stupid! You saved us, you saved me…and…and…”
Sayo interrupted herself when Gyomei placed a hand on her head, gently ruffling her hair and offering the girl a soft familial smile.
“You…grew to be a fine young woman…didn’t you, Sayo?” Gyomei questioned softly.
All Sayo could do was sob as she desperately took out medical supplies, “P-Please don’t die on us! Not yet! Please!”
The other Kakushi nearby cried for Gyomei not to die as well.
“Don’t...waste any medicine on me. Make sure the others get the medicine.” Gyomei Himejima ordered softly before looking up at the sky and seeing the souls of the children he took care of in the orphanage, the ones who ran, the ones he swore to protect.
In his vision, they all explained how they loved him deeply and only ran in order to call for help, which only led to their deaths.
The Stone Hashira’s expression, once unwavering in resolve, softened as he teared up. While he tears up easily, this time was warranted.
Fumiko softly smiled as she looked upon the scene. That was it…his face finally contorted in something she could call peace…
“Told…you so…Himejima.” Fumiko croaked, her voice catching the attention of the Kakushi.
“L-LADY TAKADA?!” One of the Kakushi piped up, on the verge of tears.
Gyomei let out a small gasp as he looked over to where he heard Fumiko’s voice. Despite his blindness, he was very aware of his surroundings. He had especially akinned himself to know the sound of her voice and of her heart…
Oh Buddha, her heart…
Alarms were raised in his head when he heard just how horrible she sounded on the inside. He knew he should’ve stopped her from stitching herself and moving her organs to such a state, but alas…time did not allow him the pleasantry of convincing her not to do that. Not like she would listen anyhow.
Fumiko took in one last breath of life before she felt her organs tighten to a lethal degree internally, the open stitches on her abdomen and chest seeping with blood as she fell to her knees.
Blood spilt from her mouth as she coughed and retched, her needle rapier dropping to the ground.
“Lady Takada, no! Please stay with us!” Members of the Kakushi pleaded as they tried to get her to sit up.
One of the Kakushi checked the Stitch Hashira’s pulse and their eyes widened in horror, “Lady Takada is losing her pulse and she’s losing too much blood!”
Gyomei’s white eyes widened in horror at hearing her cough and retch, at hearing the one sound he dreaded hearing: her weapon drop to the floor (as he knew Fumiko of all people dropping her weapon only meant she was dying). She was in so much pain, dying even…but she still made the effort to help him one last time.
That would’ve made his heart flutter if he wasn’t losing his pulse too…
He wanted to see his kids, he knew he would see his kids soon…but he had wanted her to live too!
Gyomei desperately wanted her to live, even though they were both strong, something inside of him wanted her to flee. To live…
He hadn’t the slightest clue why she kept staying by his side, why she bothered helping him so much, why she endeavored herself to the goal of proving him wrong.
For years, he only thought: Why? Why does a woman as kind and amazing as Fumiko Takada feel the need to associate herself with someone like him? Someone as weak as him, who couldn’t even protect the ones he loved when it mattered…why?
Even though he trusts her with everything he has, that question still lingered. Just like the question of whether or not she could possibly…
Possibly…
Love him?
Memories of the time he spent with her, all the time where words went unsaid…all of it were flooding back to him. Her words, her honesty, her steadfast actions… provided the Stone Hashira with the possibility of his feelings being reciprocated, but he couldn’t believe it.
Just like he could hardly believe that she was dying right in front of him…and that there was absolutely nothing he could do to ease her suffering.
“Ta…kada…” He reached his gigantic hand over to Fumiko’s.
God, why did his body start feeling heavy to him now of all times? Now when it counted most??
“Himejima-san, you shouldn’t be moving in your condition-” Yushiro, the one trying to wrap more bandages around his wounds and clot the blood, tried to reason.
“I need…to get…to…Takada…!” Gyomei spoke, his legs unwilling to lift him upwards as one of them was fully destroyed, so he crawled.
Fumiko Takada was bleeding out on the ground as the other panicked Kakushi tried to get her to wake up, but it was no use. Her light blue eyes had become dull and almost lifeless as she lay limp.
The Stitch Hashira’s vision flashed between only black and the world of color that waited for her return.
‘Did I do enough…obaa-san? Am I…finally enough?’ She thought to herself, feeling each of her vitals fail one by one.
This question plagued the woman’s life and seemed to plague her even in death.
All she wanted was for someone to reach out and…!
Just before her senses completely failed her, Fumiko felt a hand wrap around hers tightly as his body was laid opposite to hers.
“Taka…da…” He spoke weakly as tears rolled down his face. “Please…rest easy. You have done more…than enough.”
Her eyes widened as she looked over to her right hand and saw it was Gyomei’s hand wrapped around hers.
Ah…why are you crying, Gyomei?
She smiled lovingly as tears rolled down her face too. When did that happen?
The last thing Fumiko saw through blurred vision was him, crying…for her.
You’re such a crybaby, Gyomei…
“Gyo…love…you…” She spoke in broken syllables, blood still stained across her mouth as she looked up at the heavens. While her words were broken, the meaning
With that, her world went black and her body went still.
Fumiko died feeling a rush of fulfillment, of knowing she had done everything she wanted to do in this life…including the one thing she thought would be impossible…Telling him she loved him.
He felt his world still when he heard Takada’s last words and her heartbeat vanish from his line of hearing…
So that was the reason…why Fumiko helped him so much, why she made an effort to stay by his side, by his side of all places…
Scratch that, actually.
He knew deep down that she loved him and for a while, he was stuck in such disbelief at the notion that he thought it was wishful thinking.
Gyomei Himejima truly thought he had nothing to offer Fumiko Takada, who rose from being the “ghost in the forest” to the multi-talented Stitch Hashira who fought bravely by everyone’s side against Muzan Kibutsuji…but apparently she thought otherwise.
Ah…a wasted chance, I see.
Gyomei lovingly smiled at the woman one last time before muttering underneath his breath, “Next…life…I will be the one to find you…”
Indeed, he would be the one to find her. In the afterlife, in the next life, and all the lives that would come after.
To offer his hand to her the way she offered her hand to him and to others several times…
That would be something he would strive for in the next life, peaceful or not.
With that, the Stone Hashira died holding hands with the Stitch Hashira.
~End Scene~