Chapter Text
He treats you no differently than anyone else when he meets you. He doesn't find your quiet nature off-putting in the slightest, in fact he finds ways to compliment you for it. He's always finding the good in things, and he is more than willing to find the positive in your nature where others might see a detriment.
That said, his outgoing and talkative nature does scare you off at first. You have no want for conversation and he seemed like the type that would try to pry it out of you. This avoidance, unfortunately, has the side effect of making him seek you out even more fervently. You are comrades after all! Destined to bleed on the battlefield together! Your bond should be strong and your will together unshakable.
And so he finds you. Over and over and over again. No matter where you go, no matter what you do, that bright-eyed man always knows where you are. You suspect the others are ratting on you, and you would be right. After all, who could lie to Kyohiro? And who would do so for your sake? Absolutely no one.
But this is all with good intent, of course. He just doesn't want to leave any of the Hashira out of the fold. Keeping everyone together is what he did best. This relentless search for you was more to do with who he was and how he dealt with people. He just wanted everyone on the same page!
Until he returned from that mission…
It had been a rough one. Many casualties, lives he couldn't save despite his best efforts. He arrived back beaten and tired, having taken more hits than normal simply because there were too many people who would have died if he hadn't. His smile stayed, even as he made his way into the recovery rooms, but his weary stare was harder to hide. He tried anyway, not wanting anyone to worry about him. There were others in far worse states. But everyone worries anyway, of course. Each makes it a point to stop by and ask how he is. He waves their concerns away, bright as ever. He will be fine, he always is. Some are harder to convince, but his stubbornness is a point of pride. They all give up eventually.
It's long after he expects any more company that you show up, his eyes locking on you the moment you walk in the door. Despite his bone weariness he still finds enough energy to feel excited. He genuinely hadn't expected you would make an appearance; he was more accustomed to having to chase you down.
“Hello! I did not think you would be here!” He calls after you, loud as ever. Even injured his voice bellows. But there is an audible strain that displays his state openly, even as he tries to show strength.
He thinks it might have been the way you looked at him then. Like something in you shattered. It was the most expressive he'd ever seen you, the most you'd ever shown him. That aloof demeanor you touted was gone. A warmth bloomed in his chest at it, his eyes shining as he met your gaze, a silent, joyful feeling passing through him. Knowing that such a stare from you was possible, that you could look upon him in such a way, lit a fire within him.
But your eyes leave as quickly as they find him. A deep breath hiding that spark he'd seen flicker there for that short moment. You walk to him, finding the chair by his side in the quiet room. It's only then that he notices you're carrying something, a small box held close to you that you outstretch to him the moment you can. He tilts his head as he takes it, the warmth of it reaching his fingertips before he realizes what it is.
“Sweet potato!” He beams, sitting up far too suddenly. He winces, folding into himself and grabbing a sudden fistful of his bedsheets. Your breath is sharp, your hands reaching out on instinct to steady him as the pain subsides. He blinks away the last stings of it before his senses are suddenly far too aware of your hands. One on his bandaged chest and the other along the bare skin of his lower back. Your hands are cold to him, far too cold. He wondered if they were always that way. He surprises even himself when the thought alone is unusually upsetting.
“I know you're just going to tell me you're okay, so I'm not going to ask.” Your voice stiffens his every muscle, his eyes snapping back to you in an instant. There is unabashed wonder held in his gaze, a joy so pure that it washes away the previous weariness held within them. You try to ignore the stare and continue.
“Do you need help lying back down? I can always save these for later-”
“No! This is perfect!” He stops you, his hands suddenly reaching for you, grabbing the hand on his chest as you try to remove it and smiling so brightly you might have almost forgotten he was in pain a moment ago.
“Stay! I will share this meal with you,” he states with assurity, leaving you no room to argue. Any other time you would have turned on your heel and left, but today you can’t help but worry for him. You heard how rough that last mission was; sharing a meal was the least you could do. After all, the rigid set of his shoulders had relaxed since you first walked in, and a glimmer of his usual confident posture had returned. He was starting to look more like the man you remembered already.
So you sit with him, eating from the same box as he speaks with you. He is eager for conversation, asking you far more questions than you would usually allow. You still refuse most of them, but that day you speak to him more than you ever had before. It was the first thing since his return that had strengthened his spirit again, your company and conversation a small, brimming hope. One he isn't willing to let go of just yet. And so he makes you promise to come see him the next day. A promise you only make under the condition that he takes care of himself while you're gone.
However, there is an unfortunate little fact about The Flame Hashira that you had yet to witness. It is entirely unlike him to stay put during his recoveries. He's notorious for sneaking out and setting off to some task or another long before his body is ready. So despite your warning he's up the next day.
When you return he is missing. No one can seem to find him anywhere, and with the look on everyone's face you can guess that it is hardly the first time. You help them with their search, looking over nearly the entire estate before he comes bursting out of the kitchen, multiple plates in hand, the widest grin you'd ever seen plastered on his face when he spots you.
“I have made you dinner!” He announces as if he is in absolutely no trouble. You march up to him, your hardly used voice sore from yelling this man's name, before grabbing him by his good arm and pulling him back to his damned bed. He doesn't argue or put up much of any fuss, letting you pull him until he's sat right back down in that bed. You glare at him, irritation mixing with some deeper feeling of worry that almost scares you to admit.
“Let me make something clear, Mister Rengoku,” you hiss, watching as that giddy expression of his melts quickly into shock.
“If you get up from this bed one more time before your body is healed, I will stop showing up. Do you understand?” The threat comes out cruel and rough, a far different sound than he'd heard when speaking to you yesterday. But he can't find it in himself to be at all upset by it. If anything he only feels that spark in his chest sit deeper, something sweet held at the edges of your threat.
“I understand!” his voice booms again as he sets the many plates aside.
“And you should call me Kyo,” He corrects, his smile returning as if nothing happened. You want to be annoyed with him; every tense muscle in your body begged you to be. But as much as you tried, you couldn't find the will. So instead you sigh, sulking into your seat beside him, hoping to just get this over with.
He hands you a plate quickly after, his chin held high, like he couldn't be prouder. You fight a half-formed smile when you take it from him, the conversation starting quickly after. Or more so his ranting and your occasional remarks. Tonight's topic was about the dinner he'd made and you learned rather quickly how passionate he is about food. He knew more than you would have given him credit for and for once you didn't really mind talking with him.
The coming days are a shock to everyone when Kyojuro remains firmly planted in his bed, almost diligently so. Tengen even tries to tempt the guy out just to see if he can, but he doesn't budge. When asked why he simply states that he has strict orders not to leave this bed until he is finished healing. From whom he received these orders and why their orders mattered so much more than anyone else's he is quick to obscure. Never outright denying anything, but never really answering them either.
However, it doesn't take more than a moderately observant eye to understand what is going on when you are seen visiting him every evening. A strange sight in and of itself, but mixed with Kyo’s equally strange behavior, conclusions are drawn and theories are made. It's to no one's surprise that Mitsuri is the first to bring it directly to Kyo’s attention.
“So…” she starts, her voice already prodding.
“What's up with the new Hashira? Why are they coming to you?” she asks, bubbling with curiosity. He perks up at the mention, something that doesn't go unnoticed by her.
“I am not sure! But they are speaking to me, so I do not care!” he answers her before quickly returning to the letter he was writing. Something to his father to assure him he was alright. He knew the man likely wouldn't read it, but he felt he should write it nonetheless.
“You're not curious at all? Not even a little?” She presses, his eyes flicking to her for a moment.
“No! As long as I stay here they will speak to me. That is all that I need to know!” his tone is still just as bright. Yet even with a glance he catches the way her eyes sparkle at the words.
“I knew it! They got you to stay in bed!” She speaks the words like an accusation, though he has very little reaction to it.
“Yes!” He admits outright, figuring no harm in answering now. He had practically just admitted it anyway.
“Awww that's so cute! They must have been really worried about you!” Her pitch heightens as she speaks and he gives another sure nod in response. Though there is something strange that twists in his chest at her words.
“I think so!” He answers again, still trying to focus on this letter of his. He only gets to for a second more before a whiny huff from her catches his attention again.
“Too bad you're out of here tonight. It was super nice seeing you two get along! I've never seen them talk as much as they have with you here,” her voice is disappointed and maybe a little worried. However it is her words that freeze him, his stare locked on her as he registers the meaning. When she realizes he's staring he sees panic take over her features.
“N-Not that I was watching or anything! Ha! Haha! I just- y’know- figured you guys were in here talking! And that they were probably saying things because why else would they keep coming back- KYA!” he grabs her shoulders suddenly.
“Do you think they will stop once I am healed?” He asks her, with as serious of a look on his face as she's ever seen. She's speechless for a moment, stunned into complete silence as his words register. She looks so immediately guilty when they do.
“Oh, well, you know- I hope so!” She sputters out the words, hardly having the moment to think about them before they fall out. Her guilt only grows when his serious expression stays.
She has absolutely no idea what she's just done.
It's a few hours later that Shinobu is on the other end of a very determined and very serious Rengoku, who has asked her for the last thing she thought he ever would.
“You want me to…pretend that you are sick?” she reiterates while staring up at the perfectly healthy Flame Hashira in front of her. He had left his bed for the first time since that kitchen incident, though it was his request that had truly shocked her.
“Yes!” he answers quickly, with a certainty that shows he isn't joking in the slightest.
“I'm sorry, you have to recognize how crazy that is, right? Since when have you ever enjoyed-” she stops herself, realization suddenly clear on her face, the dots finally connecting.
“This is about that new Hashira, isn't it?” She accuses, watching as his nose twitches at how quickly she had figured him out.
“No,” he answers with about as much believability as a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar. She muffles a laugh before quickly trying to gain her composure, clearing her throat his hopes it would help.
“While I would love to help you, your plan isn't going to work,” she speaks through a giggle. His eyebrows knit together, his head tilting like it would suddenly make more sense at a slightly different angle.
“Why not!” His hands sit on either side of his waist, almost like she's the one trying to get into trouble. Her smile widens, thoroughly amused.
“One, because you are a terrible liar and will give yourself away immediately,” he scoffs, clearly disagreeing with that conclusion.
“And two, because you can't stay sick forever. Eventually I'm going to have to kick you out of here.” That explanation is what finally deflates him, his shoulders falling in defeat. But she's known him long enough to catch that look in his eyes. Analyzing, thinking. He was going to find a way around this, somehow. So she decides she should maybe try helping him out a bit.
“Any particular reason you're so determined to get through to them? Especially since they seem so determined to remain completely closed off?” She digs, trying to get to the root of this. She is surprised to see the thought in his brow grow tighter. Had he even given that idea thought?
“They are a valuable ally! And I enjoy being around them!” He admits, perhaps with a bit too much conviction. Like he could do nothing less than yell the words.
“Uh huh,” incredulity drips into the sound, her eyes narrowing at his unchanging smile and wide, oblivious eyes. She considers her next words carefully before she speaks them.
“Are you sure it isn't anything more than that?” She prods. He thinks a little harder, a new answer coming to mind quickly.
“They are a considerate friend, even if they may not speak often! When I see them, I feel warmer, and my heart swells with joy! Their visits have brought me comfort and I do not want it to end so soon, as I fear I will miss them terribly,” he explains himself thoroughly, though he remains entirely confused by the look Shinobu gives him afterward. She wanted the full explanation after all, didn't she? Was she going to help him now?
“You are hopeless,” she sighs the words before pitching the bridge of his nose. He tilts his head again, still not quite sure what she's getting at.
“I do not understand what answer you were looking for. Can you explain it to me?” he questions, trying to find clarity. He was running out of time after all! You'd be here any moment now and he didn't want to miss your potential last meal together!
Shinobu takes his hands into hers, conjuring the most patience she ever has as she tries to carefully break the news to him.
“Listen, Kyo. Have you ever considered that maybe, possibly, you like them as something more than just a friend?” She posits the possibility to him. He still doesn't understand what she's trying to say, at first. But then slowly the idea begins to sink in until it finally, finally hits him.
“Oh!” He yells, as sudden as the emotions that swirl within. He feels his own face grow warmer, how his heart beats suddenly quicker. It does not escape him how familiar it feels to when he is eating with you, speaking with you. As the pieces fit together his inability to let you out of his sight begins to make much more sense to him.
“I think I might be in love with them,” he admits matter-of-factly. As if she hadn't already known. She lets go of his hands quickly after.
“Glad you caught up. Now, staying sick isn't going to fix that for you, so this no longer concerns me. Good luck,” she gives a nod, a pat on the shoulder, and then quickly continues on her way.
“I am in love,” He mutters to himself, the words sinking deeper by the second. This isn't the kind of help he was coming here for, though he can't say he doesn't feel grateful. At least now he understands why he can't stand the thought of this ending. But his original problem still persisted.
How was he going to keep you around?