Archive of Our Own

Warm light filtered through the rice paper as laughter and chatter filled the room. Tomioka was still kneeling as the Hashira around him mingled and talked. He should get going. Kanzaburo was waiting for him. But he stayed, eyes catching on the scarred man across the room. He was talking to his friends. He looked at the two men standing beside Shinazugawa. How had they done it? How had they befriended the scarred man who had such a prickly attitude? Tomioka didn’t know, but he wanted to find out. 

He had tried everything he knew to do. He called Shinazugawa out when he was lazy, being weak, trying to encourage him like Sabito had done for him. But he had found he wasn’t as good at it as Sabito was and his meaning was sometimes lost. Tomioka watched the three chatter and interact, his blue eyes straying back to Shinazugawa like a magnet. Shinazugawa reminded Tomioka so much of himself. He sighed, shifting in his spot on the floor. Too much of himself honestly, differing only a little here and there. 

When he had lost everything, he blamed the world. He was angry, sad, blaming everything, blaming himself most of all. If only it had been him, not his sister, he used to think. But Sabito had helped and showed him he was a coward. The boy had befriended him, showed him that excuses were useless. Begging for things in life would do nothing. You had to earn it. It was for those same reasons and beliefs of Sabito’s that he knew he was not the true Water Hashira. He had not earned the title. He hadn’t even earned the demon slayer title to be honest, so how could he even earn the title Hashira if he in all technicality was not part of the demon slayers? He hadn’t passed the test that told everyone they were demon slayers. Tomioka’s eyes trailed the slight upturn of the white-haired man’s lips. His own pulled up slightly at the sight. 

Shinazugawa was similar. He was blaming something, himself, the world, the demons. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. They were the same in how they grieved. They blamed, they were stubborn, they pushed forward the best way they knew how, covering their hurt in emotion. Sanemi was by far more stubborn than Giyuu, hiding his pain with anger instead of sadness. 

Giyuu was not perfect. He knew he wasn’t exactly living up to Sabito’s standards at the moment either. He still blamed himself at times and closed himself off from life like he did before, but he was trying. 

Having spent so much time in isolation after losing Sabito, he had lost almost all ability to be social. Then suddenly he was a Hashira, where he was constantly grouped together with others. He knew he was awkward and didn’t convey himself well, but he couldn’t stop. He had to pull out of this funk. 

He looked at Sanemi. He thought maybe if he could try to befriend and encourage Sanemi, they could encourage each other. Sanemi wasn’t afraid to call people out on their bullshit but struggled to do the same for himself. He didn’t struggle to communicate. 

Giyuu could tell he struggled with his emotions though. 

And he understood. 

If he could have some of that fearlessness in his life, he might be able to talk to others normally. He could see that while Sanemi didn’t want to address his emotions and took life by the horns, he himself did quite the opposite. He dwelled on his emotions too much and did very little in his life. Sanemi’s fearlessness reminded him of Sabito in some ways. Maybe he could borrow that fire from him and give Sanemi courage in return to conquer his own cowardness. 

He glanced around at the men and women before deciding to stand. And just as he got his feet under him and his haori fixed, he heard a belly-deep, rumbling laugh to the left of him making him freeze in shock.

He turned and his breath hitched at the sight. 

Shinazugawa.

He was smiling, lips parted as warm, joyous sounds left him. 

It left Giyuu’s heart fluttering in his chest. 

Tomioka fervently glanced at Uzui and Iguro to see what had set off such a reaction, but to his disappointment found nothing. 

Nothing again. 

Nothing to work with. 

A heavy despondent feeling settled in his chest. 

He had tried Sabito’s ‘you’re a man’ methods of friendship and it hadn’t worked. Maybe it never would…No. He couldn’t think like that.

He looked at Shinazugawa’s friends. Friends. How had they done that? 

Tengen was flashy and could express himself like Shinazugawa and even Iguro was good at that. He had a sharp wit and a quick tongue. He could meet every one of Shinazugawa’s remarks. Tengen was lovable and annoying. Iguro was irritable and annoying. Tomioka was also some of those things he knew for sure because he was told by Sanemi himself to his face. 

Tomioka looked down in thought. He nodded to himself. 

He would keep trying Sabito’s methods because they had worked on himself and he and Sanemi were similar, but this reaction… 

He looked again at Sanemi’s smiling face. 

Maybe he should change his tactics. Maybe…Take a softer approach? He thought as he glanced Tengen’s way. 

Hmm. 

Be lovable. Like Tengen. 

He wasn’t sure how he could do that, but he would. He nodded to himself. Yes, he had much to consider. 

He blinked out of his thoughts as a sudden fatigue hit him out of nowhere, his mind feeling far away and tired. He really should get going. Kanzaburo was waiting for him. 

He turned and started walking towards the door. Each step feeling heavier than the last. He turned the corner and began walking down the hallway. The wave of fatigue hit him again. Limbs and body swaying. He heard something behind him, but as he turned to look his vision went black and the world tilted.

–

Sanemi laughed. He hadn’t laughed like that in a while. And Tengen wasn’t done. He’d been telling them about the time that Kyojuro joined him and his wives and got drunk off his ass. Apparently a drunk Tengen was convinced that Kyojuro wasn’t the Flame Hashira because he didn’t use actual flames. Kyojuro took a surprising amount of offense to this and declared that he would prove it. They lit his sword on fire somehow and Kyojuro got on top of their house and performed all the forms for Flame breathing and at the end declared. ‘Take that you motherfucking bastard!! I am the Flame Hashira, Shinjuro!!’ No one knew the ‘Shinjuro’ he was yelling at, but he was so busy cussing out some nonexistent person that he caught his hair on fire and fell off the roof into a pond in front of the house. He then started crying because he wasn’t the Flame Hashira anymore. 

So now Sanemi knew that a drunk Kyojuro was the funniest shit he would ever get the pleasure of meeting if he ever got to. 

“And get this he suddenly stops sobbing and grabs his throat and cries harder. And when we ask him what’s wrong he says, ‘I’m the motherfucking Wind Hashira!’” 

“The fuck?” Sanemi chuckles.

Tengen laughs.

“I know right? But Kyojuro wouldn’t stop crying. And then Suma, who was crying with him says ‘but you’re covered in water!’” 

Tengen’s laughing interrupts himself. He wipes tears from his eyes. 

“And then- then- he says-” Tengen chuckles, “‘Noooo! I’m the motherfucking Water Hashira and Wind Hashira!’”

Sanemi and Iguro laugh. 

“What an idiot.” Iguro shakes his head.

“He really got shit faced didn’t he?”

Tengen grins, nodding at Sanemi’s question. 

“Oh yeah he did. And then his drunk ass wouldn’t stop begging me and my wives to still be friends with him even if he wasn't the Flame Hashira.” Tengen laughs. “Kyojuro is a flashy drunk, that’s for sure.”

Tengen looks around and then back to them. “Speaking of my buddy. Where is he? Ubashaki didn’t say anything about why he wasn’t here today.”

Iguro’s eyes light up at remembering something. He waves him off “Ah. Yeah. He had some family stuff he had to attend to, at least that’s what Mitsuri said earlier when I asked.” 

Sanemi listens as the two converse about maybe dropping in on their fellow Hashira after they left here. But his attention is pulled away when something out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. Tomioka.

There he was slinking out like the sly arrogant bastard he was, with that faraway look on his face. Tch. Couldn’t even grace us with the presence of mind, let alone a goodbye. He thinks as he watches Tomioka leave the room. Good riddance. He turns back to the conversation, but he couldn’t focus. His irritation for Tomioka and his disrespectful attitude poked and prodded at his mind. Behind him he could hear Mitsuri leaving the room and calling after the boring man.

“Tomioka! I wanted to tell you something before you left!” A pause. “Tomioka?”

THUD. It was the sound of a body hitting the floor.

“TOMIOKA!!”

Before anyone could move, Shinobu was shoving people out of the way. Sanemi was shoved sideways by her small frame as she rushed out to the hallway. The rest of them followed in a similar fashion at her worried pace. They knew she was not one to lose her cool like this.

Kanroji was hovering over Tomioka and his crumpled form. He looked sickly. What the fuck was going on!

“He passed out Shinobu! I don’t know what happened!” Kanroji was crying. 

Shinobu moved swiftly, assessing the man below her. Her face shifted and Sanemi knew her face was saying ‘Shit’ even if her mouth was not.

“He was hit with a blood demon art last week. He appeared to be fine, the art seemingly a simple kind that burned away with the sun with no lasting effects. It seems it hid its true nature very well.” She spoke, informing them as her hands checked for a pulse and blood pressure. Behind Sanemi he could hear Gyomei asking what was happening and Muichiro explaining the scene. Uzui was directly behind him and Iguro was at his side. They all stared with worry as they watched Shinobu flit about the man on the floor. 

Then Tomioka’s body was still. 

Too still. Before it wasn’t. He looked like lightning had struck his body.

And Shinbo’s face and mouth finally said the same thing.

“Shit!” 

Giyuu’s body looked unnatural, contorting and twisting. It was horrifying. His eyelids twitched open, his eyes looking dead. 

Deader than was normal. 

Dead like- 

like- 

Murderer! Murderer! Why’d you kill Mom?!

Machisaka. Wake up. Please. I can’t- I can’t- No! Don’t go! Don’t leave me! 

Sanemi shook his head. His body tense. He suppressed the flinches at hearing the body and limbs slamming into the wooden floor, reminding him too well of long-ago memories.

“Kanroji, hold his neck and head. Sanemi, hold down his chest and arms. Uzui, get his legs. NOW!” 

Sanemi’s body was moving before he could process her words. He held down Tomioka’s jerking body with the others as Shinbo moved at Tomioka’s other side swiftly. A clear substance, a purple substance, and needles all lay before her. Her deft fingers dipped a needle in the clear substance, then the purple, before quickly stabbing it into the arm that Sanemi had pinned to the man’s side. 

He was practically hugging Giyuu. He watched as rows of wisteria laced needles appeared on the pale muscular forearm as Shinobu cut away the man’s uniform sleeve, pushing the haori up to his shoulder. After about the 20th needle Giyuu’s jerking movements stopped. His body stilled and Sanemi relaxed his muscles slightly, resting his head on the man’s chest that was no longer jerking. 

Sanemi froze. 

There was hardly any heartbeat.

There wasn’t any breathing.

He glanced. Those eyes were still dead. Shit.

“He’s not breathing!”

Shinobu checked. Her eyes widened as she realized he really wasn’t breathing. “Is it the wisteria?” She mumbled but shook her head. “No, I didn't give him enough to be lethal. It was nowhere close to lethal.” Before she or anyone could react, Tomioka was breathing again, his bright, lively blue eyes popped open. Everyone held still, not from relief of his breathing, but in fear.

Those eyes were beautiful and deadly pools of blue, yes, but that was not what stuck fear into them. 

No. 

What had them frozen in fear was the pupils themselves. 

Those were not the eyes of their comrade. 

Those dagger-like centers told them, that the man before them was a demon.

The dagger-like pupils contracted into slivers as those eyes surveyed the group before them. 

All of the Hashira had loosed their grips on the man in shock. Tomioka’s face pinched in anger. In mere seconds he jerked from their holds and practically teleported to the furthest, darkest corner in the hallway. He hissed and held his needle ridden arm protectively; blood slowly oozed from the wounds there. He looked at the wounds and then at them with an angry face.

None of the Hashira moved. Too shocked to do anything. Before their eyes he was still changing. His nails were becoming claws. His hair was becoming fluffier, almost a different texture. Two new long strands of hair appeared on top of his head angled backward, seeming to have their own separate gravity. Something moved inside his haori, like a new appendage. He was becoming a demon. And it shook Sanemi to his core. 

He hissed growling at them, eyes flicking between each of them as their hands settled on the hilts of their blades. Tomioka gripped his injured arm tightly. His face winced and he whimpered, the sound poking something fierce at Sanemi’s heart, reminding him too much of the past when he would tend to the small broken limbs of his siblings. 

The blue-eyed man was curled in on himself with his shoulders high as if to make him look larger to them. He was only succeeding a little on that front due to his overly large haori that adorned him at all times. 

Sanemi stepped forward ready to draw his blade. Ready no matter what, even as his hands shook a little and his breathing became uneven. Tomioka flashed his new sharp teeth at him, a panic swimming in those slitted eyes. Blood trailed down the fangs from where they appeared to have punctured through his gums. 

Sanemi’s brows furrowed in determination. He forced his breath to even back into total concentration breathing. His hand began to draw his blade, a shing echoing out in the near silent hallway, but another hand stopped him. He snapped his head to his side. Iguro. Why was he stopping him? Tomioka couldn’t be allowed to live! Harsh breaths of anger escaped his lips.

“What are you doing, Iguro?” he growled. 

“Stopping you.” The man said icily.

Sanemi couldn’t believe his ears. “Why?!” 

Iguro looked Sanemi over before looking back to the scared angry creature in the corner. 

“I don’t think he’s a demon.”

Sanemi's eyes widened in rage. “The Fuck?! Of course he’s a demon! Are you blind?!”

Iguro gave him a deadpan look and Sanemi shuffled uncomfortably. Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words considering Gyomei was blind and Iguro was partially blind, but the fuck was he thinking?! That man was a demon. It didn’t matter that they knew him. Or that it was Tomioka. 

A pain shot through his chest, familiar grief spiking. He looked back at the shivering, hissing Tomioka. Images of his mother blotted out Tomioka in his eyes briefly, layering her face over his. 

He shook the images away. 

It didn’t matter who it was. A demon was a demon. It was on the Master’s property, in his home, and Sanemi didn’t want to let it live a second longer. 

(He couldn’t bear to see those slitted blue eyes any longer either.) 

He glared back at Iguro for an explanation and narrowed his eyes. 

“Explain.” He growled. 

Iguro nodded and pointed towards Tomioka. 

“Did you notice he isn’t dead from the wisteria? A new ‘demon’ like himself would have died from it by now. And his injuries.” 

The bloody needles and forming bruises on the visible skin from holding him down earlier were still there. 

“They aren’t healing. And look.” Iguro pointed to the patch of sunlight that butted up right next to the dark corner Tomioka had chosen. “He isn’t afraid of the sunlight. He looks more afraid of us.”

“All valid points Iguro.” Shinobu’s voice cut in before Sanemi could respond. “I second these observations and would like to remind you all that this was a blood demon art. And as we know demon arts are meant to be either a weapon or a way to capture humans for the demon. And Tomioka is not dead as we can see.” 

She waved a hand towards the man huddled behind her. He hissed in response, cuddling his arm closer.

“So we can assume that whatever this is, was meant to capture victims at a later date for the demon to hunt down or control. With the demon being dead, we don’t have to worry about the latter. Demon arts like these that are complicated in their activations are also complicated in their deactivations. I’ll have to do some research, look at the original sighting report, and study him, but I believe I can reverse whatever has happened to Tomioka.”

A cool feeling filled Sanemi, the adrenaline wearing off at their words. 

Tomioka wouldn’t have to die. 

Another person wouldn’t die at his hands. 

He was relieved. He took his hand off the hilt of his blade, letting it slide and resheathe itself. Lavender eyes met blue.

“So he’s not a demon? Then what is he?” Sanemi demanded of Shinobu, turning to her and crossing his arms. She hummed, tapping her chin as she looked at the man in the corner. 

“I don’t know.” She commented curiously. “He’s definitely not acting like himself, being all expressive and angry.” She pondered aloud. Her brows knit together as she eyed his wounds. “I’ll need to take care of those needles soon and get him patched up.” 

She stepped forward but stopped at the angry pissed off look he was giving her. “On second thought, maybe we should work on calming him down first.” She smiled tightly. “Anyone?” She offered, glancing at the others.

But none stepped forward. Kanroji fidgeted, nervous and worried. Tengen and Iguro hesitated. And Sanemi hesitated too. None of them had the best relationship with Tomioka normally when he was in his right mind and now… Sanemi wanted to help but he- Images of his mother in her final moments flashed behind his eyes as he closed them. 

He couldn’t.

Heavy footsteps brought Sanemi’s eyes open once more. 

Gyomei had stepped forward. “How sad that Tomioka has come to be under these circumstances.” He walked forward towards Tomioka, and the others parted to make way for him. He only stopped when he heard the hissing. 

Tomioka watched him closely, tracking his every movement as the larger man sat down. The Hashira watched the scene with anticipation. Tomioka shrunk in on himself and made his form as small as possible. Whatever third limb was in his haori was slithering and twitching as his slitted eyes watched Gyomei. 

They sat this way for a few minutes. 

Gyomei silent. 

Tomioka watching him. 

And the Hashira watching them. 

Nothing seemed to be happening, but it felt like they were waiting for something, waiting for an unknown tension in the air to break as they watched to see what Tomioka would do. 

And they were rewarded. Slowly Tomioka uncurled from himself and sat up, eyes never leaving the large Hashira. Sanemi could see the slits slowly widening until his eyes looked almost normal. Tomioka’s body was relaxing slowly as the third limb finally found its way out from the haori. 

Sanemi’s nonexistent brows shot up. 

A tail?! 

And not long after, the two weird new hair tufts that showed up earlier lifted on their own from where they lay to show two black triangles with pink centers. 

Ears. Sanemi’s mouth dropped open.

The motherfucker had cat ears on top of his head! 

Kanroji squealed at this new revelation, spooking Tomioka. He hissed at her, ears going backward again. Everyone looked back at her. “Oops.” She nervously giggled before quieting and standing still. 

Tomioka was refocused on Gyomei when Sanemi turned back to watch them. The man weirdly started to sniff the air and creep closer, slowly closing the distance between them until he sat crossed legged in front of the patient Hashira. He slowly reached out a hand, the arm without the injury, and patted Gyomei’s leg like he was asking for something. Gyomei tilted his head down curiously. Tomioka stared up, eyes big and wide, and the pupils were wider than before. Another pat was done before he made a sound with a tilt of his head.

“Mrrow?”

Sanemi’s heart stopped. It was the cutest sound he had ever heard come from him.

It was the cutest sound the Mitsuri had ever heard too, apparently, as Sanemi could see her face was bright red from physically restraining herself from squealing.

Gyomei smiled and reached a hand out to pat his head between his ears. His face briefly looked surprised at what he was feeling. His eyes started to water, and tears soon spilled rapidly. Tomioka made a surprised sound at suddenly finding himself in the man’s lap, being cuddled and petted.

“Namu. Namu.” He cried as he rubbed his head on top of Giyuu’s furry one. 

Giyuu looked surprised and unsure, but didn’t move, letting the larger man hold him in his lap. Soon he was squirming though at the tight hold. Not wanting to have a fight break out or something, Sanemi decided to intervene.

Sanemi walked forward and patted Gyomei’s shoulder. “I don’t think he wants to be held, Gyomei.” He suggested quietly as he looked at Giyuu’s disgruntled display, pushing and shoving at the strong hold. “You better let go before he claws your eyes out.” He warned as he saw the previously wide pupils start to narrow.

“Yes. Please don’t stress my patient, Gyomei. I need Giyuu compliant.” Shinobu called with a tight smile. “No telling how compliant he will be like this, though. Usually he’s a less than stellar patient when he’s his normal self without the emotions.” She said slyly.

Giyuu looked up, noticing Sanemi and squirmed harder. “Namu.” Gyomei pouted, releasing his hold. 

Finally free, Giyuu shifted back to sit on the floor. He looked up and locked eyes with Sanemi. “Mmrow?” He cocked his head looking at Sanemi. Sanemi felt his heart stutter at the soft look on his face. What was with all these expressions? He really wasn’t acting like himself, stinkin’ bastard. He would think the guy was doing it on purpose, but that didn’t seem likely…

Sanemi knelt, sitting on his knees and holding out a hand. He had grown accustomed to helping strays, dogs and cats, and if there was one thing he knew was that you never approached the animal, you let it approach you. Hope this works, he thinks as reaches out hesitantly, but his eyes track the blood on the shorter man’s arm to the small puddles forming on the floor.

He didn’t like how much blood he was seeing. Those wounds were still bleeding around the needles. Not everyone was used to functioning on blood loss like he was. 

He watched the man, hoping he had enough cat tendencies at the moment to accept the invitation like his strays would.

He watched as Giyuu’s eyes sparkled. He leaned forward closer and closer, confusing Sanemi. Shouldn’t he be sniffing? He didn’t move his hand for fear that he would spook Giyuu. Sudden movements and loud noises had always spooked off the cats he found in back alleys on missions. 

The blue-eyed man’s face was closer now, his cheek and hair brushing against his fingers until his cheek rested in the warm palm, his deep blue eyes never leaving his. It was like staring into a bottomless pool. Then to Sanemi’s immense surprise, a slow blink happened. What the fuck?? Is he giving eye-kisses?! Sanemi’s face threatened to flush, but he staved it off. Just a cat, He huffed. Keep your cool, he reminded himself. Tomioka isn’t himself at the moment.

But then Giyuu hummed and began rubbing his face against Sanemi’s still palm, causing Sanemi’s whole person to freeze up. 

Was that what he thought it was?! 

Yep. It was purring. Giyuu was purring. Purring for him. Sanemi’s breath stuttered. He could feel a flush rising. He couldn’t handle this! Someone needed to intervene. Right. The Fuck. Now. His face was getting hotter by the second. He was gonna pass out from blood loss if it kept traveling to his face. 

A squeal caused Tomioka to stop his ministrations, peeking his head to look behind Sanemi. 

Kanroji was jumping up and down. “I can’t take it anymore!” She continued to squeal. 

Now that Sanemi wasn’t in his own little world with Giyuu, he could feel the prickle of everyone’s stares on them. He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably deciding he could face Gyomei face if nobody else’s and– NOPE.

He whipped his head back around.

That was scary as shit. Sanemi shivered, feeling very suddenly like he was catching his death. Was that the look demon’s saw before they met their end?

For the very first time, he was unnerved by Gyomei. He kept his eyes averted for his own safety.

Shit that was a scary face. Fucking hell Gyomei. It’s not like I made him like me more. He grumbled in his head, not daring to say it out loud. But that wouldn’t stop him from scowling back. So he scowled back. And even though he knew Gyomei couldn’t see it, he hoped he felt it.

A furry weight settled back against his open palm drawing his attention away from the potentially imminent threat on his life. He could feel the weight of Giyuu’s large eyes staring at his face. It was not a weight he could handle. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, I think he's calmer now, Shinobu.” Sanemi managed to say. He knew for a fact that his blush was starting to become visible with all that heat flushing his face. He needed this to end soon or Uzui would never let him live it down. And Gyomei may not let him live that long with the way he was glaring daggers into his back.

Shinobu smiles and Sanemi can’t tell whether she’s seeing right through him or not. “Yes I can see that.” 

“I’m leaving.” Muichiro announces to them, but Uzui places a hand on his shoulder.

“Not so fast. We’re going to have to talk to the master about this Muichiro.” 

The boy sighs despondent. “Fine. But I will not enjoy it.” He glares up at the taller.

Uzui smirks. “Oh I’m sure you won’t and you’ll let everyone around you know it.”

“Yes I plan to.” He jerks his shoulder away and roughly bumps into Uzui on his way back to the meeting room.

“Little shit.” Uzui mutters as he rubs his arm where he got hit.

Iguro snickers and Kanroji muffles her giggles.

Uzui claps his hands startling Tomioka. He peers down at the feline-like man, hand resting on his bent knees. “I have to say Tomioka, this is the flashiest I have ever seen you!” Tomioka scrunches his nose at him, clearly unhappy. A low warning yowl was forming in his chest as he glared up at Uzui. The yowl comes to a halt as Sanemi places a rough hand on his head. He blinks looking at the scarred man it was attached to. 

“Don’t pay attention to him. He’s just being an ass Tomioka.” He says. Tomioka blinks, each blink becoming slower and Sanemi can feel affection festering in his chest for the man. Affection he quickly dashes away, shifting on his bent knees. His hand on Tomioka’s head stutters in its rhythmic petting before starting up again. Sanemi doesn’t look at the water hashira, instead he looks at the one being an ass and getting on his last nerve. “I just got him calm, Tengen, don’t go pissing him off.” He scowls at the other white-haired man. 

Uzui holds his hands up in surrender. “I was just telling him what I thought. I’m gonna go let the master know what happened.” He says juts a thumb back behind him and then turns to walk down the hall. 

“Tch.” Sanemi scoffs, still petting the silky black fur underneath his hand. A shadow looms over him and Tomioka and a shiver crawls up his spine. 

A ‘Namu’ sounds right next to his ear making Sanemi scramble to the side. Giyuu startles as well, sticking to him like glue.

“Fuck Gyomei! Warn a guy.” He glares at said man who is now bent over and petting Giyuu’s head. The boulder of a man slowly turns only his head to Sanemi and Sanemi shivers at the expression. 

Fuck he’s scary. 

He stands still staring at Sanemi, not taking his eyes off him until he walks past them back into the meeting room. Sanemi’s tense body relaxes once he’s out of sight. 

He shivers once again.

Who knew stealing cats from Gyomei would be the one thing to bring out the scary in him.

Shinobu giggles as she walks closer to them. A pumped up Mitsuri follows. 

Mitsuri sits close by. “Gyomei was so scary just now!” 

“Your tellin’ me.” Sanemi shudders.

Shinobu giggles again. “He is a rather affectionate cat person.”

The two stare at her incredulously. Affectionate? That’s what she called that?!

Tomioka just purrs.

—

Giyuu watches the other hashira leave, pleased by the lesser number of people surrounding him. It was beginning to be overwhelming. He leaned into Sanemi’s hand once again. The hand was making him very happy. Giyuu knew that was strange. Very strange, but he couldn’t stop. 

Whatever that blood demon art had done was messing with his self-control. He normally wouldn’t be able to express himself so openly or clearly. It was embarrassing and kind of freaking him out. But at the same time… it wasn’t… bad? How could it be when Sanemi was being this kind to him? When all the hashira were being kind? This was good. Very good.

A purr resonated in his chest matching the happiness that flooded him at the thoughts. And that was weird. All the new sensations and movements and actions that his body were doing were weird. 

But he did like the purr. 

And the hand. 

The hand was very appreciated. 

He closed his eyes and nuzzled against the rough knuckles, a deeper purr rumbling through his bones.  

“Okay now let’s have a look at that arm Giyuu.” 

He opened his eyes, squinting up at Shinobu. 

His face scrunched, a grouchiness he occasionally felt towards her rearing its ugly head quite clearly. 

“Awe now don’t be grouchy Giyuu.”

His face pouted. Why was she talking like that? He wasn’t a child. 

“I’ll have salmon diaki made for you if you let me help you.” 

Tempting. He looked down in thought, considering his options. If he let her treat him he’d feel pain briefly and then his wounds would eventually heal and stop hurting. But she may make Sanemi stop petting him in order to do so…

He grabbed the hand on top of his head firmly holding it there before nodding to her. The hand tried to pull away, so he dug his new sharp nails into it. A hiss of pain sounded above him. He turned and made angry eyes at the owner, ears flattening on his head. The rising need to bite the hand should it move was sounding more and more enticing as the hand continued to struggle.

Shinobu muffled a laugh at the scene. Sanemi grumbled above him but stopped pulling his hand away. Good. A rumbling purr was building up again.

—

Shinbou gave him an amused look with a smug smirk. “Looks like you’ll be joining us, Shinazugawa. Isn’t that right Tomioka?” Giyuu nods below Sanemi’s hand and releases his tight grip.

“No!” Sanemi immediately denies, becoming flustered. Despite the refusal he continues he lets hand stay upon the soft fur-like hair. Why was he letting this happen? He wouldn’t let this happen. It was probably Tomioka being a brat about everything and trying to humiliate Sanemi even if he wasn’t aware of it!

Sanemi’s anger sparks at thoughts and starts vehemently denying. “No! I’m not doing that Tomioka. Why would you need me there?! What are you, a kid? Too scared to go to the doctor?! It’s just Shino-!” Sanemi pauses mid-rant at hearing a whimper.

A whimper from Tomioka.

The man’s face was broken. Tears welled up in eyes as he covered his ears with his hands, his cat ears lying flat against his head, blending in with his floofy hair. 

He’s whimpering and Sanemi has never felt so guilty, but he’s also still irritated. This is Tomioka for fuck’s sake. So he lets out a huff of hot air. Fuck this is a nightmare. He groans, dragging a hand down his face. But it’s not like he has much choice.

“Fine.” He says finally before narrowing his eyes at Giyuu and crossing his arms. Fluffy bastard.

Giyuu purrs below smugly like a cat that got the cream.

Smug fluffy bastard. Sanemi thinks as he runs fingers through the dark fur. The purring vibrates his hand, and Sanemi can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips as a thought crosses his mind. 

At least he’s not ignoring me anymore.