Archive of Our Own

"I'm so fucking bored." Gary muttered. "Just do a reaction fic." Megan replied from her spot in the armchair. She looked like she was trying to fuse with it. "Ok!" Gary smiled, looking excited. "I have the perfect fic idea!"

"AHH! WHAT!" Tengen yelled. The hashiras, uppermoons and the entire hashira corps had teleported into the reaction room. "Hey bitchesss. You're here to react to something that's going to happen in the future." Gary said, floating in the middle of the screen. "Ok? But what if your a demon?" Tanjiro asked. "He's not... I would know..." Kokushibo rumbled. Several of the demon slayers had pulled out swords. "Calm the fuck down. You have your entire orginisation and we have exactly 3 demons. Even we know that we're not surviving if you all attack us." Akaza said. "C'mon Akaza-dono! We're Uppermoons 1, 2 and 3!" Douma whined. "Yes and they have 9 hashiras, the master and the rest of the corps. I'm not taking my chances." Akaza snarked back. "Akaza...Douma... Shut up." Kokushibo said from behind them.

"Let's just start!" Gary chirped. 

What's A Little Wind and Rain?

"That's the title?" Sanemi asked. "Yup!" Gary replied

It happens in the blink of the eye.

Sanemi is knocked off his feet quicker than he can react, but even the unceremonious landing on rough gravel is less of a shock to his system than what just happened.

"What? What happened?" Sanemi asked. "You'll see. I should let you all know that you are training with Muichiro and Giyuu." Gary said. "Why?" Giyuu asked. "Because you could, I don't know, I'm not god. That's my sister." 

Off to the side, Giyuu’s jaw is hanging open in a similar fashion.

Seconds pass before Sanemi finds his voice again. (Actually, it’s more like he rips it out of his chest before proceeding to pummel it into the ground. If you listened closely enough you could hear his vocal cords crying out for help.)

“The fuck, did—did you just use Wind Breathing?!”

"WHAT!" Came from everybody but Muichiro. "Yeah?" He asked. Everybody just stared at the long-haired boy with disbelief. "Let's continue!" Gary exclaimed.

Muichirou stares down at him blankly. “I did. Do you not recognise your own breathing style, Shinazugawa-san?”

"Don't sass me." Sanemi said. "Okay grandpa." Muichiro replied. Half of the room's jaws practically unhinged. Nobody got away with calling Sanemi Shinazugawa anything. And a fourteen year old kid just did.

Rather than getting angry, Sanemi doesn’t even look like he registered the insult. He just continues to stare incredulously at the young boy as Giyuu makes his way over to help him up, equally in disbelief.

“Okay, you guys are seriously beginning to creep me out.” Muichirou mumbles. “Of course I can use Wind Breathing. In case you forgot, Mist Breathing is literally derived from it.”

“That was the fifth form, not some basic technique! You don’t just pull something like that out of your ass!”

"FIFTH FORM?" Sanemi and Mitsuri shouted with disbelief. The other slayers and demons were all just shocked. Gary smirked. "I needed this type of chaos." He muttered to himself. 

“Who said I pulled it out of my ass?”

Sanemi’s eyes looked like they were one wrong reply away from bugging out of his head. “So you’re fucking telling me that you’ve mastered it?”

He shrugs. “That, and some of the other forms.”

"HOW MANY FORMS HAVE YOU MASTERED YOUNG TOKITOU?" Rengoku boomed. "8 forms. I'm currently working on 9." Muichiro replied blankly. Even Ubuyashiki looked shocked.

“He’s crazy!” Sanemi hisses into Giyuu’s ear. The other man gently shoves him away before turning to Muichirou, having schooled his expression back into its usual impassiveness.

“Muichirou, do you really not understand why we’re reacting like this?” He questions softly.

“I don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of it.”

"What do you mean you don't get why we're making a big deal out of this?" Tengen asked. Obanai, even with his mask, clearly showed shock and awe. "People can do multiple forms." Muichiro said. "No kid, they can't." Obanai said. "Oh." Muichiro said.

Sanemi butts in, exasperation written all across his face. “Kid, most people can’t even learn one breathing style correctly. And you’re telling us that you’ve mastered Wind Breathing halfway while being the Mist Hashira at the same time. ” 

“He’s right.” Giyuu nods. “There’s a reason most slayers only stick to one breathing style. It’s incredibly difficult to adapt to a different style than the one you’re originally taught, which is what makes your talent at such a young age so impressive.”

“Oh.” Muichirou blinks slowly, processing the newfound information and then—

“Do other people really suck that much?”

"Muichiro! That's a bit harsh!" Mitsuri said. "Oh. I'm sorry." He replied. Sanemi snorted and Giyuu sighed, looking resigned.

A snort escapes Sanemi.

“Christ, kid. Sometimes I forget how much of an ass you can be.”

“And here I thought I was supposed to be the amnesiac.” Muichirou says dryly, casually sidestepping Sanemi’s attempt at giving him a noogie.

"Holy shit." Tengen murmured in awe. "He sassed Sanemi. Without getting killed." Shinobu muttered in awe. Sanemi sniffed and slapped Muichiro on the back of the head. "Don't sass me child." He said. "No." Muichiro said.

“Come back here, you little shit—”

Giyuu lets out a long, deep sigh. “Let’s get back to training, okay?”

Sanemi pins Muichirou with a look that says ‘this isn’t over’. Muichirou just rolls his eyes and goes to fetch the wooden staffs they’ve been using.

They take their positions, this time with Giyuu and Muichirou on opposite ends of the training grounds.

“By the way,” Giyuu speaks up, gaze trailing to meet violet eyes. “Sanemi, please refrain from any unneeded commentary when we’re sparring.”

“Hah?” The white-haired man frowns from where he’s sitting in the shade. “Why? I’m giving you constructive criticism, jackass.”

“Swearing and yelling about how dumb my stance looks is not constructive criticism.” Giyuu says flatly.

Muichirou, the menace that he is, cups his hands around his mouth so he can really rub it in from a distance. “Are you sure you’re qualified to give criticism, Shinazugawa-san? Didn’t you—oh, I don’t know, lose to me earlier because of your own breathing style?”

"Oh my god." Tengen wheezed, looking like his birthday had come early. "Not. One. Word." Sanemi hissed, glaring at him before turning it onto Muichiro, who only let out a small smile.

Sanemi jumps to his feet, snarling.

“Listen here, you little—"

Giyuu rubs the crease between his brows. “Sanemi, sit down.”

Sanemi sits back down.

He settles for jabbing a finger in Muichirou’s direction instead, the veins in his forehead popping.

“Be prepared to get your ass kicked, brat. Next time I’ll show you how it’s really done!”

“I’m quaking in my boots.” Muichirou deadpans.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop threatening him?” Giyuu frowns at Sanemi, before turning his attention to the teenager once again. “And you, stop provoking him so we can start.”

He tries not to feel too bad when they begin sporting matching looks of guilt, because if month’s worth of experience has taught him anything it’s that the minute he turns his back they’ll be bickering all over again.

Children, the both of them.

“Ready?” He asks, adjusting the staff in his hands. Muichirou hums affirmatively, and just like that—

Giyuu is knocked flat onto his ass.

"Wait why?" Giyuu asked. "You'll see." Gary said ominously. "Ok. Take note. Do not attack the gremlin with black and cyan hair that looks like a girl." Akaza said, pointing at Muichiro. Muichiro just stuck out his tongue at him.

The Mist Estate is plunged into deafening silence.

Giyuu wants to ask Muichirou how he did that, but no words manage to come out as he’s left wide-eyed and reeling from the  attack.

Luckily, Sanemi is there to break the silence for him.

“WAS THAT FUCKING WATER BREATHING?!”

"WHAT???" Tengen shrieked. "I didn't know people could go that high." Shinobu said flatly. "HE USED WATER BREATHING AND WIND BREATHING! HE'S THE MIST HASHIRA. MIST!!!" Tengen yelled. "We know, we are here." Akaza sighed. 

“So, when were you going to tell me you could use Water Breathing?”

They’re taking a (much-needed) break from training, having huddled around the table with steaming cups of tea as the servants went about serving them fresh fruit. If Uzui was around he would have cackled and called it a family meeting.

Needless to say, Giyuu was very, very thankful Uzui wasn’t around.

"Aww Family-" Beffore Tengen could finish, Obanai had slapped his hand over his mouth. "Continue." He said quietly.

Earlier, Sanemi had swatted Muichirou’s hand away before his fingers could even brush against the orange just so he could peel it and give it to the boy himself. Giyuu didn’t think—and he means this lovingly— Sanemi would’ve made it throughout the day without attempted murder if the Sound Hashira had caught sight of that.

"I think Tengen's malfuctioning." Shinobu said, staring at Tengen who was on the ground wheezing. Sanemi snarled.

Muichirou chews contemplatively on an orange slice.

“Don’t most beginners learn Water Breathing first though? I don’t see why it’s so impressive I can do it.”

“And how many of them have you seen become the Water Hashira?” Sanemi snorts, plucking a grape right out of Giyuu’s hands.

How he can compliment him then steal his food in the same breath is beyond him, honestly. Giyuu glares quietly at the other man, but otherwise lets it go. He had more pressing matters to take care of after all.

“How many forms can you use?”

“I think I got up to the sixth or seventh form before officially switching to Mist Breathing.”

“Batshit insane.” Sanemi mutters under his breath.

“Stop swearing.” Giyuu says, mostly out of reflex. “Muichirou, that’s highly impressive. Do you think you could learn all of them if you were trained by a proper teacher?”

“Probably?” Muichirou squints. “Like I said, Water Breathing is the easiest.”

Oh, this was going better than he expected.  Giyuu could barely contain his giddiness.

“Then, would you consider becoming the Water Hashira?”

"What?" Muichiro asked, looking startled. 

A beat of silence.

“But…You’re the Water Hashira.” Muichirou says slowly, like he’s missing a crucial puzzle piece to the conversation.

“Irrelevant.” Giyuu shrugs. “I’m getting old. You might have to step up and replace me soon.”

“Oi, Oi.” Sanemi butts in, looking mildly offended. “We’re the exact same age. Are you calling me old?”

There’s no reply; only a long, telling silence when deep blue eyes flicker up to the mess of white hair, a delicate brow rising on its own volition.

“What—This is genetic!”

Muichirou snorts. “Whatever you say, Grandpa.”

"Watch your mouth, brat." Sanemi said. "I haven't even said it yet!" Muichiro protested. "Doesn't matter." He replied

“Watch your mouth, brat.”

“We’re getting off-topic.” Giyuu interrupts, quieting the other man with a finger to his lips. Almost immediately the tell-tale makings of a blush were working its way up Sanemi’s cheeks, and if it was any other day Giyuu would’ve been proud of the effect he had on him.

"Oh my god." Sanemi and Giyuu said in unison, looking shocked. "OH MY GOD!" Mitsuri and Tengen repeated, looking excited. 

(But alas, today was not any other day, and Giyuu was a man on a mission.)

“I’m going to throw up.” Muichirou mutters, wrinkling his nose at the display of affection. Just months ago, something like this would’ve been unthinkable.

Giyuu lets his hand fall from Sanemi’s crimson face so he can scoot closer towards his adopted son  favourite Hashira trusted colleague.

"He's your favourite Hashira??" A demon slayer asked in disbelief. "No." Giyuu blatantly lied.

“My offer still stands. You would make an outstanding Water Hashira.”

“I’m already the Mist Hashira.” Muichirou points out.

“You already made history once as the youngest Hashira ever. Why not give being the first Hashira of two different styles a try?”

As he spoke, some of the light gradually returned to Giyuu’s eyes. Even Sanemi was staring at him like he was a whole other person.

Muichirou pokes at a stray orange peel. “You’re really pushing this, Tomioka-san.”

“It’s because I see real potential in you.”

“Hold on,” Sanemi narrowed his eyes. “Are you making an early retirement plan? Is Muichirou your ticket out of work?”

“No, it’s because I have crippling depression and such horrendously low self-esteem that I don’t believe myself worthy of being the Water Hashira.” Giyuu deadpans.

Silence.

"I-What?" Shinobu said incredously. Ubuyashiki looked saddened. Giyuu hid his face in his beloved haori, looking nervous. "Tomioka-san, you're one of the best hashiras I know!" Mitsuri exclaimed, looking at her friend. 

He takes a long, slow sip from his mug. “More tea, anyone?”

A grape falls out of Muichirou’s open mouth. Across from him, Sanemi’s eyes are blown so wide that’s it no wonder they’re bloodshot.

“Giyuu.” He says slowly.

“Yes?”

“You’re a great Water Hashira. One of the best in generations, actually.”

Giyuu doesn’t meet his gaze. “You’re just saying that cause you’re biased.”

“Those are Oyakata-sama’s own words. Are you saying he’s wrong?” Sanemi challenges, brushing his fingers over Giyuu’s knuckles.

Giyuu bites his lip to suppress a smile. He fails spectacularly, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as he leans onto the other man’s shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Muichirou is looking anywhere but them.

“This is great and all, but can you pass me a napkin?”

“I don’t know. Can you take my place?” Giyuu shoots back.

"Oh my god. Was that a joke? Did our anitsocial just make a joke?" Tengen asked from the ground. Rengoku had started to use him as a foot rest.