#mizunoto

[shinondo]

【 出汁にこだわる 】 毎日食べるものだから 赤ちゃんも安心・安全 化学調味料 保存料 食塩 -無添加- ・365毎日おだし 全て【国産】 焼き飛魚　鰹の枯節　イワシ煮干し 昆布　寒天　菊芋　椎茸　緑茶（静岡産！） ・はじめてのお出汁 昆布　鰹枯節 ・体にやさしいだしふりかけ 米みそ　鰹の節　鰯削り　わかめ　あおさ　昆布　焼飛魚　人参　玉葱　菊芋 ごま　椎茸 ま・ご・は・や・さ・し・い ま（豆・大豆）味噌 ご　ごま わ　わかめ や（人参・玉葱）野菜 さ（鰹・鰯・焼きあご）魚 し　しいたけ い　菊芋 を意識した体にやさしいふりかけです♪ 昆布は〝グルタミン酸〟が母乳と同じくらい　だから初めて出会う旨味には 『はじめてのお出汁』が最適です♪ 心音道にて 好評発売中♪♪ 妻の親族が営む 沼津にある 株式会社ヤマヘイ-ミカコーポレーションの商品です♪ #オーガニック #無添加 #化学調味料不使用 #子育て #育児 #ふりかけ #出汁 #だし #ヘルシー #保存料不使用 #mizunoto #心音道食品 #心音道 #三島 #三島市 https://www.instagram.com/p/CgvvxvKBqps/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#オーガニック #無添加 #化学調味料不使用 #子育て #育児 #ふりかけ #出汁 #だし #ヘルシー #保存料不使用 #mizunoto #心音道食品 #心音道 #三島 #三島市

[takkamek]

re-read rengoku gaiden and i have. sooooo many thoughts about the pillars,,,, 

i would like to get more info tho... like obviously the pillars then (gyomei, sanemi, uzui, shinobu and giyuu) knew shinjuro better than kyojuro but i wonder if kyo’s dad talked about kyo at all or did the pillars then only know kyo in a “i’ve only heard of him” type of way? cause the way they react to him in the meeting when kyo (a kinoe) is sitting in for his father they don’t seem to know him almost at all (also not kyo straight up saying that his dad’s a drunk lmaoo && sanemi immediately picking a fight with him like babe what are you doing)

and like the similarities with kyojuro and tanjiro.... both coming to a pillar meeting when neither of them are pillars, and both (not really) fighting sanemi lol

and when kyo meets the demon he’s like “i never forget!!! i’ve never seen you in my life!!!” and lmao since the demon slayers fight with swords i was like hold up a minute when i saw the guns lmao

and i really do think kyojuro has some underlying inferiority issues because of his father’s actions... :( (”no matter how pathetic i am, i will carry out my duties”)

but it was nice to see a (very, very) small look into the relationships the pillars have with each other at the end, and especially the friendship that kyo and mitsuri have :)

#also... shinobu is like two years younger than rengoku #giyuu and sanemi are year older than he is. uzui is three and gyomei is abt 7yrs #the so wildly different ages of the pillars always intrigue and confuse me #cause it would mean that shinobu became a pillar before age 17(?) #like how long did it take for any of them to become pillars??? #and when kyo is kineo (one step away from hashira) mitsuri is mizunoto aka the lowest rank #and she's like a year younger than kyo #idk man #anyway it made me feel good and kinda broadened my understanding of kyo and the pillars #demon slayer #(tag for self feel free to ignore this lol)

[slayfics]

Hiii I hope you’re having a good day!! Your writing is really nice and I am enjoying your Muichiro content a lot haha.

I’m sorry this is quite specific but could you please do a scenario where he leaves an important person that he was originally protecting to go and protect you when he sees the demon trying to nearly kill you, and someone’s (any character you like) reaction witnessing it :DD it would mean a lot !

sorry!!this is really specific ><

Muichiro protects you in battle.

You arrived quickly to the village that your crow had led you to. According to your crow the village was under attack by a horde of demons and some Mizunoto ranks were dying trying to protect the village.

The village was indeed under a massive attack of demons. Usually there weren't this many in one place. You wondered what was going on but quickly got to work slashing off as many demon heads as you could.

"Thank goodness a higher rank!" One of the Mizunoto's yelled.

"Stay behind me!" You yelled, slashing another demon. Just then a crow flew overhead.

"TWO HASHIRA APPROACHING!" It announced.

"Two Hashria?? They don't trust me? I can handle this!" You yelled out of frustration taking down another demon. You were determined to take out as many demons before the Hashira arrived but within seconds they were both on the scene.

A smile spread across your face when you noticed mist begin to form around the village. You knew this meant Muichiro was one of the Hashira's to join the battle.

"Don't worry we will take it from here." You heard and felt a hand placed on your shoulder. You turned to see Shinobu standing behind you.

"Yeah right, you can't count me out of the fight that quickly!" You stated defiantly. A gleam in Shinobu's eyes told you that she would have scolded you for defying a Hashira if she had the time. Instead a calm but piercing look was all she gave you as she jumped into the battle.

Some of the lower ranks were still in the middle of the fight struggling to fall back. You found yourself helping and protecting them.

Shinobu was effortless gliding between demons taking them down quicker than your eyes could follow. While Muichiro was stationed by the village chief ensuring his safety.

The demons weren't particularly challenging but with the added task of keeping villagers and lower ranks safe, was proving difficult.

You were in the middle of moving a lower rank out of the way of a demon's attacks when another demon took that split second you were off guard to its advantage. You and the lower rank didn't notice its quick attack from behind before it was too late.

Less than a split second to react you tried to place yourself in the way of the lower rank to take the attack. You braced for the attack but instead were greeted by a gust of mist flashing by, the next sound was the thud of the demon's head hitting the floor.

You looked over to the chief where Muichiro had been only to see him still there. Had he really been that fast to protect you and make it back to the chief before you could even blink? You shook the thought out of your mind for now and focused back on the battle.

With both Hashira there it didn't take much longer for the whole village to be rid of demons. Villagers were lining the streets praising and thanking all the corps members.

Muichiro quickly made his way over to you.

"Are you alright??" He asked, analyzing you for any injuries.

"I am, thanks to you." You said, smiling at the Hashira.

“That was admirable prioritizing the saftey of the Mizunoto over your own. That’s what any Hashira would have done.” Muichiro said, causing a blush to form on your face. Muichiro began to speak again but was interrupted.

"Hmm... that is strange Tokito." Shinobu said, appearing behind the Hashira. "It appeared to me that you left your stationed post by the village chief to protect a corps member. I couldn't have seen that right though could I? As that would have been against corps rules." She said accusingly at Muichiro.

Muichiro's face quickly turned from concern for you back to his usual stoic expression. You thought you actually picked up some annoyance in his new expression.

"You have such big eyes I would be surprised if you saw something wrong." Muichiro responded, turning to face the other Hashira. Shinobu blinked out of surprise from Muichiro's words. She was unsure of how to respond to the Hashria who was usually reserved with few words.

"Is that all then? Looks like we are done here." Muichiro said, turning away from Shinobu again.

"Tokito." She called after him. Muichiro stopped but did not turn around to face Shinobu.

"It's best to keep your biases off the battlefield you know."

"Great advice, I will relay that message to Tomioka." Muichiro said then vanished. Shinobu looked taken back for a second time at Mucihrio's words.

"He could have at least pretended to care about the other corps members' injuries. Oh well... You do take care now." Shinobu said to you as she left to inspect the injuries of the Mizunoto ranks.

This was such a cute idea, I blushed when I read it! Thank you for the request and your support on my stories! I hope this is what you had in mind and enjoy it~

#kny x reader #kny x you #anime x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #anime x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #muichiro x reader #muichiro x y/n #muichiro tokito #kimetsu muichiro #demon slayer muichiro #kny muichiro #muichiro fluff #Muichiro x you #demon slayer hashira #mist hashira #kny fanfic #hashira x reader #shinobu kocho #insect hashira #kny shinobu #kimetsu shinobu #kny hashira #kimetsu no yaiba hashira #demon slayer fluff #demon slayer fanfic

[peachdues]

THE DIVINING ROD — PROLOGUE

Obanai’s Tell Me to Stop

A/N: the prologue to Obanai’s installment of Tell Me to Stop, first teased here.

CW: canon setting AU • Reader is the Vine Pillar • blood • angst • scars • mentions of past torture • panic • this fic will be HELLA NSFW so MDNI

From the first day he drew his sword, Obanai Iguro knew life within the Demon Slayer Corps meant accepting two, twin truths.

The first was this: a career as a swordsman of the Corps means one’s life expectancy is cut drastically short. Few make it to adulthood; even fewer to retirement.

The second truth is that your time within the Corps is marked by one or two events: either you live to see another day, or you do not. There is no in between; it is either life or death, and more often than not, the Slayers themselves do not have the luxury of choosing between the two. That choice is finite and there is no gray. Members of the Demon Slayer Corps do not go missing; either they are torn apart and devoured by the very monsters they fight, or they live to see the next sunrise, only to await nightfall once more and thrust their lives back into the fickle, shifty hands of fate.

No slayer is spared that perilous dance, no matter their rank. Mizunotos and Hashira alike all know that their tether to the world they’re trying to save is little more than a fraying thread which grows more tenuous by the day, with every battle won at the expense of the lives lost.

The crows; it is the crows, the harbingers of both victory and death, who keep them apprised of their numbers. Slayers do not go missing; they are either dead or they are not. If there is nothing left of a Slayer to bury, their crow will say as much, and they will still get a headstone in the Master’s ever-growing graveyard. The crows always return, even when their assigned masters do not. It is the expectation; a given.

There is no protocol in the event neither Slayer nor crow returns, and it is that absence which blows a gaping, jagged hole right through Obanai’s understanding of his nature not just as a Hashira, but his very existence as a swordsman.

Because the Vine Pillar has vanished and there is no trace of either her or her bird to be found. There is no frantic, bleating announcement that she’s fallen at the hands of some formidable foe, no mournful sobs of the Kakushi as they solemnly carry a box bearing whatever of her remained to be buried with her brothers and sisters in death.

There was only silence; thick, oppressive, loud silence that is punctuated by the conspicuous gap in the lineup of Pillars gathered for an emergency meeting at Headquarters.

The air between the Sound and Insect Pillars is still; a tear in the fabric of reality, pulled back to reveal that something is wrong, something is out of place.

Something is missing.

Obanai cannot stop staring at it; that space between Kocho and Uzui, the utter absence of matter that should form that familiar face, that signature haori, everything that makes up her and her warmth and her comfort.

Everything he cherishes.

“Then she is dead,” Uzui declares once the Master’s children finish explaining their summoning.

“We don’t know for certain,” a soft voice, feminine and evocative of that which is distinctly pink, rises above their heads at the opposite end of their line. “Missions often take weeks, and she may simply be unable to answer —,”

“No one has seen or heard from her in weeks, nor has there been any sight of her crow.” The Sound Pillar challenges, though not unkindly. He is familiar with the friendship between the Vine and Love Pillars, and he does his best to deliver the blow as painlessly as he can. “Even Y/L/N would not ignore an emergency summons from headquarters, no matter how deep in her mission she might have been.”

Obanai is still staring at the void between his comrades where she should be, but Uzui’s words make his fists clench, the skin of his knuckles white. Beside him, the Wind Pillar shifts, sensing his growing agitation.

His panic.

Though he is inclined to voice his agreement with the pinkette at the end of their formation, Serpent Pillar does not speak. He cannot; not while he is busy retracing the last weeks in his mind, mentally calculating how much time would have passed between that night and the mission she did not return from, and whether there was a chance it was different from the one that haunted his every waking moment.

“Where was she assigned?” Rengoku’s voice was strong and commanding as ever, though if he listened hard enough, Obanai could discern the faintest tremble as the Flame Pillar, too, worried after his absent friend.

“A fishing village in the east.” One of the Master’s twins answers, and it feels like an accusation only he can hear, as Obanai feels the very ground beneath his feet break apart and open wide.

How he wishes the oblivion below the earth would swallow him up.

“She’s dead.” Uzui repeats, his head bowing solemnly.

“She’s not,” both the Love and Flame Pillars insist in unison.

Wide, anxious green eyes peer over the heads of their comrades at him, and Obanai can feel how they burn into his head, beseeching him to say something, anything, but he does not; cannot.

The Master’s pristine garden falls away, as does the rising bickering of the other pillars as they debate the merits of a search and rescue operation; whether they have the numbers or time to spare it any consideration. Whatever they decide, it is without the Serpent Pillar’s vote, because he cannot hear them over the roaring in his ears; the new truth he is forced to bear.

That truism is this: the Vine Pillar is missing.

And it is entirely his fault.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #obanai iguro #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny obanai #kny iguro #obanai x reader #iguro x reader #demon slayer obanai #kny smut #demon slayer smut

[helloescapist]

The Hashiras in a Relationship| Kyojuro Rengoku

Word Count: 4800?

Setting: Kyojuro Rengoku x gn!reader (there is one mention of kids in the future, but it's not implied how they will enter the family).

Content Warnings: none 🔥

Summary: headcanons Kyojuro Rengoku as a relationship partner, what it would entail. Dating to commitment.

[image is not mine]

To be loved by the Flame Hashirais to know comfort and warmth. To be loved by Kyojuro is falling nights, evening hours beneath stars that twinkle in the sky. The soft glow of cinder illuminating silhouettes, soft touches that at a moment’s notice deepen. Its security, an embrace beneath a blanket, two bodies coiled within another. It’s his breath against the back of your neck, snuggled close together. Savoring the tender notes of Japanese Red Cedar, tender as the embers cool. The fragrance of smoke, delicate and hazy. Dulling the senses as the warmth threatens to drift you off to sleep. The touches of smoke, destined to dance across your flesh. Lingering in the warmth, savoring one another, and perfuming your pores. To be loved by Kyojuro, is to stand next to a bonfire. Dance beneath the stars, warm and playful, to twirl in smoke, to bask in the crisp scent of leaves, and embrace comfort. The sweet caress of Orange Osmanthus. To know that regardless of where you may go, the scent of smolder shall remain, just as his love.

To be loved by Rengoku is to understand that you will need to embrace him. To accept the warmth of his smile, to respond to his laughter, to bask in the soul-piercing questions.

It’s to bare your deepest desires, and return his own. To welcome his confessions, to caress his tears, to cradle his insecurities.

To be loved by Rengoku is to be loved in every sense of the word. It’s to know the reliability of the rising sun; to know that regardless of the darkness that may claim the night, the dawn will always come. The warmth of embers upon your flesh, plush blankets, and the tender brush of his nose against yours.

It’s to know sacrifice, to know the honor of a Hashira, of a partner, and of a good man. Whether it is the haori off his back, relinquishing his bento to a hungry stranger, derailing a date to help a little granny carry a parcel home, to more extremes such as defending a child who impeded upon a nobleman’s honor, to staring death in the eye to protect mizunoto.

To be with Rengoku means accepting filling his empty tummy; it’s for the best his cooking is… questionable. It’s not he’s actually a bad cook, it’s more like he’s overzealous in the kitchen. Bare in mind the era, alongside his rank amongst the Demon Corps, Kyojuro likely wouldn’t have many opportunities to interact with the kitchen outside of amusement.

While he can follow the recipe well enough, I mean he is no stranger to scavenging the forests of Japan. Ultimately, his own excitement coupled with so many options—what is mitsuba? He’s confident he has seen [YN] use it in the kitchen. It MUST be tasty!

In it goes. He’s never been properly been given the opportunity to interact with a vast variety of spices and seasonings, and so, Rengoku is quick to deviate from the recipe.

To be with Rengoku means that, colds are in your future. His over generous heart very well will have him giving up his bed for a stranger while out on a mission, donating his haori for a passerby, so I recommend brushing up on caring for a patient.

Especially one as unintentionally stubborn as Kyojuro. It’s not that the Flame Hashira aspires to bring home a cold, or he means to be a burden while he’s ill. It’s rather that, it’s because he doesn’t want to burden you with his condition that he will attempt to hide it.

He will struggle against being cared for, insure you that he will manage. Please, don’t mind him. You will have to be firm, remind him that you WANT to care for him, and even resort to some under handed tactics to ensure he remains in bed.

I suggest reaching out to Shinobu for wellness supplements, vitamins, and rations for him to carry on his missions if he doesn’t give them away. You may have to resort to simply adding it to his daily routine, he certainly won’t reject the idea if you reassure that it’s because you care.

Despite his fuss, he loves that you’re taking care of him.

Regardless of what route you take in ensuring his physical wellbeing, the day will come. The day you pray will never cross your paths, when a kakushi delivers the news no one wishes to utter to a lover.

To be with the Flame Pillar is to accept that he will offer up his life for the sake of others. It is, after all his duty. Bestowed upon him by birth, gifted from the gods, and gently instilled with the pride of his mother, the day will come, and to be with Rengoku means to accept that one day, he will not return.

That your bed, will be empty, devoid of laughter. His curiosity and jovial smile will be absent from the kitchens, and your nights will be robbed of his enigmatic gaze.

This is the duty of his lover. One that pains him to impart on you, but one of which, he cannot avoid.

Just know, that every moment he dedicated to you were the happiest of his life.

[YN], I’m so sorry I won’t be home for dinner.

Reminiscing of the first bento you had ever made, the pride in which you had presented to him, the brightest smile touched to his face as he passes from this world.

Your first meeting, would be an everyday event. One where you went about your duties.

Whether it was to report for duty, under Oyakata-sama’s watchful gaze. The tilt of your head, eyes well trained to avert from another’s gaze. The polite bend of your back to even the kakushi that rushed through the halls, to the depth of your bow as you greeted superiors, well-practiced and mannered. The soft, humble smile tucked at your lips as he passed you by.

It could be on an average serving day, employed at a local tea house. Disbursing tea and treats with a dutiful bow, and gratitude upon purchase. Welcoming all those who passed the business. The deep bow from those that frequented your shop regardless of station. The way you had tended tend to an elderly man, who had struggled with his meal. His later years betraying his body, making him jumpy and unstable. How you had quickly preserved his honor without so much as a second thought. Willing to take the blame for offering him such cold food that it had sent a chill down his spine, both of you knowing that the meal before him was well prepared, all while maintaining the bend of your back.

Truthfully, the first day you would encounter one another, would be an ordinary day. It would be your average day. One born of duty, of survival, of tasks to be accomplished, and yet, the way you had conducted yourself.

Respectful, dutiful, kind. Not a day in which you would expect attraction to ember. The touch of cinders had ensnared him, drawn his attention.

The days to weeks to follow, you find yourself caught under his gaze. The touch of embers drawing your curious attention, embarrassed to be appraised. Bashfully averted, prioritizing manners whether of station or employment.

The warmth of crisp fall leaves, captivating the ambers of autumn, engrossed in the warmth of fiery red enough to draw the heat to your cheeks.

Unlike some of the Hashiras, Rengoku does not require as much time to pursue you. While he’s not as intentionally flirty as some of the Hashira, he is also not as hesitating either. I would say, he’s a fair middle ground.

He craves a deep connection, and a genuine partner. His approach to ensuring he has glimpsed at the truest version of you, would be similar to Shinobu.

The Flame Pillar will take some time to observe you. Nothing as in depth as the Insect Hashira’s approach no one will be as thorough as Kocho. It will be small drop-ins, interactions made in passing.

Never intending to snoop, but he could not resist the way his eyes followed you, the way you had pulled from an onigiri from your pocket, offering it to a small child who’s stomach knew of hunger. Could not ignore the gentle way you had consoled them.

Nor the time when he was out securing bentos for his journey, ensnared by the way you had placed yourself between an innocent bystander, and a fowl temper drunker.

He would have intercepted the interaction, but it was evident that the lecture you had elicited had more than sobered the man up, and shamed him more than any smack Kyojuro could have provided.

No, he really wouldn’t need that much time before he approached you with the intentions of taking you on a date, or seeing you more casually. He certainly has no qualms about making the first move.

Should you decide to reject him, it will be met with a sincere smile, and apology for disrupting your day. However, in the event you have elected to turn him down, you will have to make the first move if you’ve changed your mind.

Kyojuro is a tolerant man, and he will take you up on your offer despite his bruised ego, but he will not ask you a second time.

It’s not that he’s no longer interested, rather, your reject was clear—he is not one to force himself on you, or anyone else for that matter. He does not enjoy playing games.

That being said, his willingness to approach you first is a breath of fresh air amongst the Hashiras, not many of them will approach you first, or willingly announce their attraction in the way that the Flame Pillar, nor as openly.

The positive is that your relationship, is not expected to progress slowly. The first date will be set as soon as Rengoku has determined that he is in fact interested. This stage can move as quickly as his interactions with you.

If you happen to work together under the Demon Corps command, you can expect things develop fairly quickly.

However, if you are not a member of the slayers, then your opportunities are limited to the interludes between his missions.

To be clear, Rengoku is not averse to a more casual relationship. Although he approaches them with trepidation. While he is flirtacious intentionally or not, he has very little desire for a fleeting attraction.

He wants a spark, a flame that bursts upon impacts. The rumble of hearts, merged to one, singing of more than simple cravings of the flesh, but rather the desperate plead of souls pledged to one another.

The steady flames of true love, he is looking for a partner one in which will satisfy his desire for a deep connection, not a passing fling.

For this reason, Kyojuro is not likely to engage in a casual fling. That being said, while such fleeting interludes are rare, they do happen. If this is the arrangement you desire, your best bet is to be forthcoming with your expectations.

If you are insincere about your relationship expectations, you will likely be met with a critical reaction before the bond is without a doubt, severed.

To be loved by Rengoku is to engage in deep, intimate conversations. His desire to connect with you will not be satisfied without such interactions.

He wants craves to know the truest you. To delve into the depths of your soul, to know the warmth of your smile. He yearns to dance upon midnight with you, to play in the snow as though you were children, and to witness to your tears.

To comfort your fears, to quiet the depths of your mind, and the doubts that fester there. He desires nothing more than to understand you. To care for you, to know the you, you would only dare share with him. Him alone. Rengoku is more than willing to exert all of his time to unfolding the layers you bare.

Discussions of your future, and the possibilities that accompany them will be common place. While he savors the present, the warmth of your smile, how lovely your eyes are alight in the daylight, and your scent as delicate and earthy as sweet potatoes, the Flame Hashira’s heart is towards the future.

Even on your first tryst, Kyojuro’s core is considering the life ahead of you. Whether you will marry, or engage in a promise of souls. If you would want children, or rather, how many children would you be willing to care for.

How you might turn the Rengoku estate into your own, would the home smell of tea and yaki imo? Would you great him with daigaku imo on harder days? How do you prefer to express your affections? How would he achieve this? How would you ensure in all the years to come, that you will always know his affections are for you, and you alone?

the man is already considering names for the fur ball he would bring home for you.

Kabocha for a rabbit. Kaki for a dog. No, wait. [YN] may a cuter name like Mochi, or Chibi.

Prepare yourself, he will not hesitate to approach a heavy topic. He wants to know the profundity of your dreams. Savor the taste of your aspiration.

There is a chance you may be blindsided by his abrasive approach, rare is the man who would impede on these topics on the first date, but I suspect that the natural warmth and acceptance that Rengoku radiates, will have your lips moving in no time. Whether you are shy or not, I imagine that he will find a way to have you talking. He’s so good nature, that I doubt it would be a forced situation.

He may have offered too man alcoholic drinks, unaware of your low tolerance. The spew of confessions to follow enough to shame him for not cutting you off sooner—he should have been more thoughtful.

Or perhaps he noticed the way your eyes sparkled when you passed by an artwork, inquiring if you yourself, are a crafter. Your excitement to share your passions betraying your attempt to maintain intrigue. I

t’s okay, he finds the way you overshare the intricate details of your passion adorable even if he doesn’t understand the terminology.

For this reason, your first date may last far longer than you ever suspected.

Truthfully, you’ll notice fairly early on that Rengoku supports these pursuits. The Flame Hashira would not shy away from bringing back tokens of affection on his journeys.

If perhaps you were interested in seamstress work, he would bring back interesting hand-dyed patterns he had passed in the different regions. Eager to share them with you.

If perhaps you had a pension for reading, he would bring back any oddity transcript he had happened to pass along the journey home.

Ironically, while the Flame Pillar is able to elicit the smallest of details from you between honeyed words, and lending an ear, you will find that Rengoku will require some time to open up. Although this will not be as lengthy of a transgression as most of the other hashiras, it’s difficult for Kyojuro to share his vulnerabilities.

It will come, and such topics will be approached in time and naturally. Such as the first time you visit his home, and inquire of his mother, he will express with a distant gaze of her passing. You’ll know when the time to delve deeper will come, but until then, know that it’s not that he is attempting to conceal his past from you rather, he’s worried that it may change your opinion of him.

Dates with Kyojuro would be as diverse as the man himself. Some activities, will be energetic and playful. Implicative of childhood memories, challenging you to catching fireflies in the summer. Playfully daring you to a sparring match, maybe even sumo if the mood strikes him.

Other times, the dates will be intimate. As deep and connected as the conversations he elicits from you. Fingers interlocked, blazing glances. The touch of your footprints etched along the sand as you stroll through the beach with one another. Nights gazing upon the stars, laid along his haori. Snuggled on the veranda as the day wanes, worn out from the hiking expedition he had spirited you away on.

In time, you’ll discover that Rengoku considers your happiness as though it were his own. He will do anything he can to bring the smile to your face, to light up your world whether in small gestures, or grand it does not matter. Whatever crosses his mind, he’s like a puppy eager to please.

Determined to stay at your side when work allows him to do so. Whether this means simply basking in your company while you pursue your passion, or attempting to assist you as you do so if sewing is your joy, you will have to place him in charge of simply handing you needles, he is not adept with thread.

He is so very, eager to please. At times, you may even feel that you are not meeting his expectations. In his over enthusiasm, you may feel rather than the gentle nudge he intended, that you are being shoved down the pursuit. Taking it at an expedited pace than you may prefer.

As with any relationship, this can lead to resentment, or inadequacy between the two of you, and really, he never intended for you to feel negatively. He genuinely wants to support all of your desires and pursuits, so much so, his over eagerness inflicted harm. If you choose to leave it to fester, you are both likely to end up battered and bruised, but should you choose to approach it rather than shy away from it, Rengoku will immediately apologize.

Again, all he ever wanted to do was support you—tell him how you view support that way you desire. A hug after a long day? Will do. A cup of tea while you work, he’s got the pot boiling, hands off, oh gods he will dutifully fight remind himself.

Just be sure to verbally praise his efforts, while he does these acts out of the goodness of his being, he still loves to be praised appreciated.

In fact, Rengoku is so eager to please, that you will discover rather quickly that his over generosity will lead to exhaustion, illness, or burnout. Whichever may come first.

To love the Flame Hashira, is to accept that there will be times in which you will need to fast guard his health, mental, emotional, and physical.

As I’ve already mentioned—he will neglect to do so himself, so this will be a long-term source of frustration for the both of you. One which you will likely have to repeat for years to come. but, it’s why you love him.

Along with the herbal treatments Shinobu will gift you, you will also have to make sure that he has regular interactions with his friends, and reassure him that you will enjoy your night at home, or with your own friends while he does so. He is so prone to prioritizing you, that his other relationships often fall to the waste side.

The gentle reminder, and encouragement to pursue these connections will be greatly appreciated, and do his heart some good. He is after all, a social butterfly. With the verbal reassurance, he will greatly appreciate your attention to his needs.

Don’t worry, he’ll behave regardless of where Tengen’s antics lead him.

When he falls, he falls hard. Like a meteor crashing to earth, embedding the earth’s surface. Permanently carved across the exterior, Rengoku is a goner.

For all that he is willing to give to you, every ounce of his time, his energy, his affections, his very heart, Kyojuro expects the same commitment from you as well.

In love, Rengoku is highly in tune with his partner. He’s able to sense the shifting of moods, of growing needs. He is the ultimate cheerleader, and will always be your side.

Rengoku, as you already know is a family man, and friends are at the center of his universe. Regardless of how dedicated he is to these relationships; he will always ensure that he has time to spend with you.

Just be sure to remind him to engage with others from time to time, he is at risk of getting lost in you. don’t let him lose himself in you.

As a partner, Kyojuro is understanding, and when it comes to understanding your needs, he is quick to adapt. Rather, he has a natural ability to care for those around him, and read the room. Should you have an off day from time to time, he is quick to overlook it as he retains the best version of yourself that he has grown to know.

Eager to please, quick to assist you whether it’s washing dishes, chopping vegetables, hanging the laundry, or even more intensive tasks such as hauling water from the mountains. He thrives with a happy and supportive partner, and as long as he is cared for in the same regards. He will not blink regardless of the requests you make of him.

Rather, one of the most difficult obstacles you are likely to encounter is the Flame Hashira’s inability to relinquish his burdens. While he understands that any part of a healthy relationship is carrying one another’s loads, he struggles with the concept of burdening you with his own.

Far too willing to accept yours as his own, but stubborn to accept your aide. Nor confess his desires for you to offer. Yet, the moment you break through his façade, he will crumble.

Tears that roll through a smile, joyful to have been accepted. To be supported. The child who had to accept the loss of his mother, to care for a small child well beyond his age, and capabilities. The very child who had met nothing but disapproval and rejection, embraced in your support.

Hold him.

You are a source of true joy, and meaning in his life.

It goes without much saying that Rengoku is a very, very protective lover. Alongside his natural desire to shield others, you have garnished a special place in his heart, and he will rise to any threat that pursues you.

A demon, he will stand between you and death. If someone has infringed upon your honor, he will safe guard your reputation without a moment’s notice. Should the situation require it, blows will be traded. He will always, protect you.

Where a lot of the other Hashiras have their difficulties with communication, you will not find this is the case for Rengoku. In fact, it’s rather the opposite.

In the event you yourself struggle with communication; he is quick to adapt. He’s open, and engaging, and if you find your struggling, don’t worry yourself too much. Kyojuro will adapt to suit your communication needs. If you are the type to need space, he’s more than okay with this.

Openly express that you need a moment he still needs the reassurance that your love is his own, and he will happily give you the time you need. If you are a fast talker, well, he is more than capable of matching your speed.

Truly, the only difficulty that you will meet in conveying yourself to one another, is in the event you are jump with loud noises. Remember, he doesn’t necessarily for his voice to boom. It’s his enthusiasm, but with his damaged ear drum, you will find that he’s naturally… loud.

After succumbing to hearing damage with his encounter with the flute demon, he struggles to hear soft voices. Patience, and adaptive communication, you’ll have this sorted out in no time—and your relationship will be better for it.

The first time you utilize this communication (signing), he will gush. To do something such as learn another language for him. he’s melting.

The embrace he will trap you in upon realization of your fingers moving, the words falling between your gestures. It’s going to hurt, snap your spine, and force the air from your lungs, hurt. Mitsuri warned you. He doesn’t mean for it to; he’s just so happy.

The playful, bashful laugh as he runs his fingers through his hair upon realizing how he openly grasped you in public.

While the swordsman is communicative, there will also be points in your relationship where you will notice he has a slight passive aggressive side to him.

His intentions are never to hurt you, but the reality is that Rengoku was not given a lot of opportunities to appropriately navigate tension in relationships. In these moments, you will have to re-center yourself.

Remember your boundaries, and your worth, remember that you love him. Compassion will go a long way with him, and give him space to work through what little thing has set this agitation into play. He really is sorry. He didn’t intend for his jealousy to ebb him that way, and what was such a little thing—he told himself that your attention to the grocer was nothing to concern himself with, and yet, that small piece of him nagged.

Succumbed to his own low self-esteem, and thought, perhaps, maybe you were interested.

While the Flame Hashira is not one to back down from a physical challenge he loves the opportunity to prove his growth as a swordsman, Kyojuro is quick to avoid confrontation in his relationships.

He favors harmony between the two of you, and a majority of the time, will avoid it at all costs. You mean so much to him, he really doesn’t want to fight. He just wants to snuggle.

Yet, disagreements are a natural part of any relationship, and when they rear their ugly heads, he is willing to do just about anything to disperse them as fast as he can. His haste actually puts even the smallest of disagreements at risk of maturing, and infecting, left unresolved over time.

However, as long as he is given the appropriate space, and by which, I mean, you reassure him that he is as valued to you as you are to him, he will rise to the challenge, and face the spat head on.

In reality, Rengoku is one of the Hashira at risk of jealousy. There may be moments where jealousy and low self-esteem fuel tension between the two of you.  

While at times he appears to be the most confident member of the Demon Slayers Corps, the reality is that from time to time, distant whispers of his life will surface. Hushed reminders of doubt, of worthlessness. In these times, he is sensitive to things around him.

Such as another person openly attempting to engage you in flirting. He is mature enough to know that it is not your fault, nor does he intend to burden you with his past but it’s still a part of him.

It’s rare, far and few between that these moments surface, but there will be times in which they are dredged from the depths. At these times, jealousy may follow.

Because of this, it’s important to note that Kyojuro is a loyal partner, and as long as his self-esteem is intended to appropriately, you will find no more a devote partner. Through thick and thin, he will always stand at your side, but should his needs be ignored, he is not validated, and trust break down in the relationship...

I would say that he is at risk of straying outside of your relationship parameters. and he is horribly ashamed for the betrayal

One thing that you will have to understand in moving forward in a relationship with the Flame Hashira, is that Kyojuro places a large importance of continuing on his blood line, and duties.

While it’s true that he is accepting of Senjuro’s rejection of the responsibilities of being a demon slayer, he still feels a source of pride that his brother lives on. Because of this, I believe that Rengoku would want a few children of his own—not that he would ever force them to undertake his position.

Rather, I suspect much like he embraced Senjuro’s break from tradition, he would support the childrens deviation. If in the event one of them did decide to accept  the obligation, I don’t feel that Rengoku would draw special attention to this from the other children.

I suspect that he would boast about ALL of his children’s accomplishments regardless if it were slaying a difficult demon, tending to children of their own, or embarking on their studies. Really, he would just want them to pursue their dreams regardless of what route they may follow, but this does mean, children are in your future.

For Kyojuro, he thrives on words of affirmation. To be openly praised, shamelessly bragged on whether it’s his attention to details, his dutiful physical tasks, or even adoration for him having picked up dinner, he thrives on this attention. It’s the fastest way to ensure that he feels important in your relationship, and treasured.

For the Flame breather, words of affirmation come just as easily as breathing. In fact, he’s quick to disburse his praise, and it takes absolutely no effort on his part.

He will shower you in applaud. Shamelessly declare you the best partner of all, regardless of your surroundings. If this is your love language, you are in luck because he will satisfy every flattery you could ever hope for.

In fact, at times he may go overboard and risk it falling on meaningless applause.

If in the event that it’s not, it’s okay that you’re shy from the private eye. He’ll learn to whisper it in private moments rather than so openly, but it will take some adjusting.

In terms of gift giving, I also see this being a strong suit of his. He has no aversions to physical intimacy, nor shies away from displaying it in public. I suspect that he would be more than content to lay his head in your lap, stare lovingly into your eyes, brush the strands of hair that fall before your eyes behind your ears.

The fire of his desire is not one to stray, but I imagine that he would comfortably the role of physical affections. Fingers interlocked during strolls, and allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder when you are tired.

Although his over enthusiasm for your touch may result in a few moments turning heated. are you really mad though?

The Flame Hashira would also be fairly forth taking with gift giving; his travels for missions have him sprouted all throughout the region, and his overly thoughtfulness will result in him bringing you a wide variety of tokens of affections.

This little kappa reminded him of how you loved to soak in the bath, this flower it’s dead, but it was as beautiful as you in its prime, this bento has your favorite snack in it—you get it.

Where ever he travels, you are always on his mind, and as long as you express your appreciation, he will never hesitate to bring home present after present, after offering of devotion.

He’s giving, overly so. Prepare yourself.

Acts of service is without a doubt, going to be met. As it’s already been expressed, whatever you ask of him, he will more than deliver.

Asked him to bring water down from the mountains? Oh, he did, he also utilized it to wash the laundry, hang it to dry, and utilized the leftover to prepare a warm bath for you.

He is literally a man of service.

Ultimately, I believe the area in which Rengoku would struggle to express his affections is actually in the quality time together department.

It’s not that he doesn’t savor moments with you, he adores the opportunity to have you at his side. However, the Flame Hashira’s determination to serve, leads him to feel that any, ANY small moment can result in restlessness.

He should be doing something. He should fold laundry. He should run you through self-defense drills to ensure you are safe while he is away, he should—his mind struggles to rest. He really and truly, is eager to serve.

SO much so that if your needs rely on quality time spent together, you will have to quiet the doubt of his mind. Reassure him that the extra time in bed together in the late morning, is all you need to be happy.

The reality is, to be in love with Rengoku is to know support. It’s to know devotion, and unwavering loyalty. To have someone always in your corner, always on your side regardless if you are in fact, wrong. It’s to know dedication, and warm smiles. To savor sweet words, as sincere as the heart they blaze from. It’s to know that despite the distances you may face, you are always on his mind. In his heart. To be loved by the Fire Hashira is to know the passion of the heart, of devotion, of the flesh. It’s to know that you are everything to him, your bond as close as destiny itself. To be loved by Kyojuro is to know love, the depths of a flame so smoldered and that the ardor will never be snubbed out. It is to be truly embraced as you are for who you are. A romance secured by soft touches, endless praise, unwavering support in pursuits of joy. To know that you are his joy. To know that he will love you.

Even in death.

In this life.

And the next

#kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku x reader #flame hashira #TheHashirasinaRelationship

[thecuriousquest]

The Choice

Yandere Giyu Tomioka x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs

Warnings: Yandere themes, injured reader, slight manipulation, threat of kidnapping

Summary: Giyu follows you on a mission. When he sees you come face to face with death, he has had enough.

Checkout my Master List here.

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You trained so hard for this mission. How could it all go so wrong?! The world didn’t give you an inch of grace, not a single spec. You wanted so badly to move up in the ranks, to show everyone just what you’re capable of. A lot of people made their thoughts about you very apparent, especially Giyu Tomioka. It hurt whenever he told you that you’ll never be able to go far unless he takes you under his wing.

The utter confidence and coldness of the bastard. He said it so bluntly, and you had grit your teeth in return and rejected his proposal with a scream of rage.

However, right now, you kind of wish you had gone with him to train. You probably wouldn’t be so close to death right now if you had.

What you don’t seem to notice is someone standing in the shadow of the trees lining the clearing in the forest.

Giyu had hoped it would never have to come to this. If you had just been able to keep yourself out of danger, he wouldn’t have to step in. To be honest, it’s all your fault that you make him follow you on missions. If you could just fucking protect yourself…

The Water Pillar Hashira watches you quite closely to see if you even attempt to stand up. You merely squirm to grab your sword and sit up but not stand. How could you stand with a broken shin and a stab wound from a talon going straight through your thigh? It’s rather unfortunate to have a demon tower over you like this, shifting its mouth wider and wider as it gets ready to devour you.

Giyu has no other choice but to cut down the demon. His skills as a Hashira beat yours beyond comparison. All it takes is a single second to behead the demon. You watch as its head lands right beside you. Already, the demon’s head begins turning to black ash along with its body.

You look up at your savior, and a mix of emotions flood you.

“I was supposed to work this mission alone, Giyu! What are you doing here?”

Giyu looks at you unsympathetically, but inside, his heart beats even faster as he takes in the gravity of your wounds.

“Saving you. I thought that was quite obvious,” he sighs as he returns his sword to his sheath.

You ball your fists up in rage, but the inability to stand renders your anger quite ineffective.

“The fight wasn’t over. You can’t just follow me on missions and then finish off the demon for me! I’ll never rise in ranks that way!”

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to become anything more than a Mizunoto if you’re dead?”

His calm gaze infuriates you even more than his cold words.

“Stop speaking as if you’re the decider of my fate!”

You find yourself looking down at your wound.

I was still alive. I could sit up. I had my sword in my hand. I could have still fought, you try to convince yourself.

“I think it’s time you stop pretending you’re this great Demon Slayer that can take on the world. Face it,” he kneels down to get close to you, “you’ll never be able to make it as a Hashira at this rate.”

Your drop the sword in your right hand with a clang and reach out to slap him, but all he does is grab your wrist with a bruising strength.

“If I hadn’t stepped in, you would have been eaten. I won’t let that happen. I can’t lose you. If you won’t take my offer and become my Tsuguko, then you will retire as a Demon Slayer.”

Giyu works on steadily tying your thigh to stop the bleeding. “You can think about your decision on the way back to the Butterfly Mansion.”

The dreaded journey all the way back to Shinobu’s house begins as the Hashira picks you up.

“You can’t make me retire, Giyu.”

“It would be easy to announce that you had died. All I would have to do is chalk it up to being eaten by a demon.”

Frustration riles you up, and you grit your teeth at him. “Then what? You’d keep me in your home and force me to play the part of a loving wife?”

“It looks like you’re smart after all. Hush now, you have a big decision to think about.”

However, you do want to keep fighting. You have a need in your soul to prove everyone wrong and prove to yourself that you can fight the good fight. In the end, you know what choice is the right one to make. Knowing Giyu, he wouldn’t struggle with locking you in his house. You know he wouldn’t be above chaining you up or anything of the sort.

After only a few hours of traveling, you huff in the Water Pillar’s arms as you look straight ahead. “Fine, I’ll be your damn Tsuguko.”

He simply nods. “Very well. Your training starts when Shinobu declares you healed.”

You can’t even begin to imagine the hell he’s going to put you through.

#triggering content #triggering themes #yandere themes #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #demon slayer #demon slayer giyuu #yandere demon slayer #giyu tomioka #yandere giyuu

[colourstreakgryffin]

Random Hashira Post #5

Let’s see how the Hashira react to you falling asleep on them

Kocho Shinobu

- She’s working on her medicines in the futon you two share and you were dozing off

- Eventually, you end up falling asleep on Shinobu’s lap after you carefully crawl to it and lay your head down

- Shinobu quickly finishes up what she was doing so she can put it all down and tend to you

- Shinobu pets your hair for a little while

- Then she puts the blanket on you

- And then goes back to her work until she decides she wants to go to bed too

- Shinobu won’t move her legs at all during the time that you’re sleeping on her lap

Uzui Tengen

- Tengen actually wanted you to sleep on him. Being in a futon with three other women makes sleeping a bit tough

- You’re exhausted from training the Mizunoto for hours so you just want to sleep with your husband and co-wives

- Tengen notices this and picks you up, bringing you to the futon and laying down

- You’re asleep the moment Tengen lays flat

- This man is very romantic. He kisses your forehead, brushes his hand on your back, briefly massages your shoulders

- This will be the deepest sleep you will ever experience

- Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma don’t mind that you’re sleeping on their husband. In-fact, as you are, they place the blanket on you

Kanroji Mitsuri

- You’re tired and in-pain after a long day of Hashira duty. You kinda crumble into the bedroom you share with your GF, Mitsuri

- Mitsuri smiles at you and holds her hands out for you to take

- You throw your arms around Mitsuri and lay your head on her chest

- Like that, you’re asleep. Hugging the woman you love

- Mitsuri almost screams out loud as she lays back for you

- She finds you sleeping on her very cute. She hopes that she is comfy enough

- She plays with your messy hair for a while. Carefully braiding small chunks to avoid waking you up

- Mitsuri takes a while to fall asleep. Her face is on fire but she is loving each second

- She won’t get up. She wants you to have the best sleep ever

Iguro Obanai

- Obanai is napping alone in his Estate’s backyard nap tree

- Not for long though, you bombard in and jump onto him

- In no time, you’re clinging to his side and sleeping

- Obanai mentally melts but his arms slowly circle around you to rub up and down your back

- Obanai gently rubs the skin of your back and shoulders

- Occasionally, he’ll press a kiss on your head

- Kaburamaru curls around until he is wrapped around your arm and laid down comfortably

- Obanai is resisting the urge to tangle his legs with yours. He is quite stiff, he doesn’t want to wake you

- He falls asleep almost half a hour later. You’re cuddling him and his heart is beating so fast, it may just fly out of his throat

Kyojuro Rengoku

- Kyojuro returns home from 30 hours of intense training and sits down to enjoy dinner with you

- After finishing, you wrapped your arms around his bulky bicep and laid your head on his shoulder

- You’re tired so you fell asleep. He is so warm, like a fireplace and his arms are like pillows

- Kyojuro simply smiles at the sight of your cute sleeping figure, he reaches around to gently pat your head

- Kyojuro ends up eating a lot slower than he usually does. Just so you can sleep longer

- Eventually though, he’ll have to wake you up to tell you he’s gonna move you to the bed you two share

- Kyojuro himself isn’t tired but he’ll happily sit besides you in the futon. He rests a hand on your arm so he can stroke it

Tomioka Giyuu

- Giyuu is the type of boyfriend to cuddle to your side as you’re both heading home. Giyuu is only physically affectionate when you two are completely alone

- After a great private dinner together, you were tired and with how warm Giyuu is, you begun dozing off

- Giyuu panicked as he felt your head fall on his shoulder. You’re still walking so he picks you up in bridal style and brings you into his Estate

- His face is on fire the entire time. He is struggling to not look at you. Your peaceful sleeping expression is simply adorable

- The time you two are in your shared bedroom, you’re basically clung to Giyuu like a koala

- He doesn’t even bother getting changed. He just crawls into the futon and falls asleep with your chin on his head

- Giyuu won’t admit it but he loved every second of you sleeping on his chest like that

Shinazugawa Sanemi

- After a tough night shift, you were quite tired as you forced yourself to stay awake whilst Sanemi practices Wind Breathing on a wood dummy

- Sanemi calls out your name and wakes you up. His eyes flared as he suspected that you were exhausted from the get-go

- Sanemi immediately dropped everything to be at your side. You’re his top priority

- Sitting down, he holds your hands to pull you so you lean on his chest

- His heart skips beats everytime. Your beauty is almost overwhelming but it doesn’t mean he’ll stop looking at you

- He may just take off his haori to place it over your shoulder so you’re warmer

- Training or hunting can wait. Getting you to have a great rest under the Wind Estate’s shade is more important to Sanemi

Tokito Muichiro

- What’s better than watching the stars with someone?

- Stargazing with Muichiro! He knows his stars well and rants about everything he learnt on specific constellations

- You, on the other hand, is trying desperately to stay awake as your usual sleep time has far passed. Exhaustion is kicking in

- Muichiro actually doesn’t notice how tired you are until after your head simply falls into his lap

- In that moment, Muichiro knows he must get you inside so you can rest better

- But at the same time, his cheeks flame and his heart jumps. You’re so pretty when you’re sleeping

- He doesn’t move at all. Why disturb your slumber so unnecessarily, even if his brain tells him to wake you so you can be warmer

- Eventually, Muichiro goes back to stargazing and runs his hands through your hair, twirling strands at times

Himejima Gyomei

- Gyomei is extremely caring about your health. And he can tell you’re overworking yourself in training but you’re too stubborn to admit you’re tired

- At one point, with Gyomei nearby, you just fall asleep like a light switch and he catches you before you could hit the floor

- He brings you back to the shared futon of yours and lays you down. Simply sitting besides you

- He doesn’t need to be able to see you to know how beautiful you look asleep

- Gyomei uses his hands the most out of the Hashira. He feels all over to better massage you. Your hair, your shoulders, your back and even your neck so he can feel your heartbeat

- Sure, Gyomei has an number of things to do in this moment but he won’t leave you alone. That’s simply cruel. In addition, your presence eases his stress

- So peaceful and loving, the aura around you two are

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #anime and manga #kny hashira #kny imagines #headcanons #iguro obanai #obanai iguro #himejima gyomei #gyomei himejima #kanroji mitsuri #mitsuri kanroji #kocho shinobu #shinobu kocho #tomioka giyuu #giyuu tomioka #tokito muichiro #muichiro tokito #uzui tengen #tengen uzui #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #cuddling headcanons #wholesome #hashira x reader

[oopsitszuli]

"And At Last, I See The Light." -Sanemi Shinazugawa x FEM!Reader.

Authors note: And we're back!! Im so excited to be writing non-work-related content again and I hope this first fic back is an enjoyable one! I love Sanemi and I also love his little detail of having lost his ability to see color and regaining it after the events of the final arc in the manga! So I got to thinking and thought of a scenario where someone else kickstarted his heart once again. Also as always, reposts and likes are GREATLY appreciated!!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of Sanemi's backstory.

Word Count: 3.3k words.

No mentions of skin tone, hair color, or eye color!

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Training was always difficult, whether being a Mizunoto or a Hashira, but in recent weeks it seems the world was working against the demon slayer corps. Relentless training was going into every corps member despite the few results they were seeing. Everyone was on edge on top of the training, for they all had no clue when the next sign of upper moon demons would appear before them. Wake up, eat, train, try to unlock a slayer mark, sleep, and do it all again. That was all life seemed to be. Rather, that’s all life was to Sanemi. 

His day was a constant repeat, with no variation and certainly no thrill. Waking up minutes before another greyscale sunrise, ignoring breakfast in favor of squeezing in a lone training session before dealing with his newest group of bratty teenagers, and ending the day at a meeting with the other Hashira where they all continued to complain about being unable to unlock marks.  ‘How did Kamado do it?’ and ‘Maybe Tanjiro, Mitsuri, and Tokito can help unlock other marks!’ These were the only statements made in those hour-long meetings. And Sanemi would be the first to admit that it made him want to stab his eardrums out. The Kamados had some benevolent god in their corner, and the other two were freakishly powerful despite their smaller statures, yet he was the only one who seemed to notice it. 

The wind Hashira let out a disgruntled sigh as he walked down the cobblestone stairs leading to a lone Soba restaurant only a few miles from his estate. It was one of his favorite places to frequent, though he would never utter that sentiment to another being for as long as he lived. Some people liked eating in the company of others, but it seemed he wasn’t born with the right of a friend to have dinner with. He used to love eating with Masachika or Kanae, but the gods didn’t like seeing someone with the last name Shinazugawa being happy, so they took them away. They took everything away. His friends, his family, and his color were no longer his. Instead, they were playthings for a higher being who took pleasure in seeing him miserable. 

Sanemi stiffened as a crisp gust of wind brushed through his spiky hair, drawing the man from his thoughts with little effort. His eyes raised from the ground as he took in the world around him. Age-old ginkgo and wisteria trees surrounded the Hashira, their leaves swaying softly in the breeze, filling his nose with the sweet scent of the flowers belonging to the trees.  He looked to his left, shielding his eyes as he was met with the light of the current setting sun; Sanemi looked away swiftly. He was sure it was a stunning sunset just by how bright it was. Maybe tonight it would be pink, or orange, maybe even purple. But it didn’t matter; to him, it was all grey. Everything was always grey and grim, and it always would be. Sanemi had accepted that fate from the moment his mother lay limp at his feet. He would never see color again, and he would never know the peace he witnessed others gain so simply. That was his burden, and it was one he carried with no argument. 

“Shinazugawa!” A sudden voice called out from behind him, “Shinazugawa, is that you? What are you doing?” Sanemi didn’t need to turn around to know who that voice belonged to. It was a sweet voice, singsongy and perfectly pitched, and it could only belong to the one person in the demon slayer corps Sanemi had come to slightly tolerate. The flower Hashira, (Y/n) (L/n). He didn’t look over his shoulder as he heard her footsteps bounding towards him, and frankly, he couldn’t bring himself to try and shoo her off. He wondered if it was the part of him that still regretted their first meeting and how he had so brashly proclaimed that she would never take Kanae’s place and that if (L/n) knew what was good for her, she would walk into the woods and disappear forever. He was well aware that he had overstepped his lines, and despite his better judgment, he felt the need to go out of his way and allow her to hang around him. 

‘Stop lying to yourself. Give her more credit, asshole,’ He cursed internally, ‘she fought tooth and nail to try and be around me, even after I treated her so cruelly.’ He still saw everything, the first meeting, the argument, everything. He remembered it like it was yesterday. 

“Who do you think you are, trying to replace her? Kanae is the only Flower Hashira, and she always will be. If you know what’s best, you will walk out now and disappear in the woods for the rest of eternity.” Sanemi bellowed as he glared at the woman standing across the yard from him. Despite his harsh words, she stood tall, unfazed by his outburst and only throwing fuel to the fire of Sanemi’s heart. His glare searched rapidly around him for support as an annoyed groan escaped Uzui. Sanemi didn’t understand. Kanae had only died three months ago, the others should be outraged at this blatant replacement, yet none of them made a move. His attention snapped to Shinobu, who only remained kneeling before the master, not an ounce of negative emotion riddling her young face. 

“I think you misunderstand why I’m here.” The woman began, unmoving despite Sanemi’s glare returning to her. “Kanae was a phenomenal Hashira, and her death hurt everyone-"“Don’t act like you knew her!” Sanemi interrupted, his teeth bared. (Y/n) sighed softly, completely calm despite the raging man across from her. He hated it. She stood so sure, completely unaffected by his words, and worse, she wore a gentle smile. A sympathetic smile, like she knew the pain everyone was going through, and as if she knew he had lost another person he cared about. 

“I didn’t know her, and I won’t claim to have known her. But what I do know is that from everything I’ve heard, she was the epitome of goodness. And I can only attempt to follow in her footsteps as the next Flower Hashira.” (Y/n’s) hand reached for her chest, placing itself atop her heart, “I can only begin to hope I leave a legacy as powerful as hers and that my joining is not seen as a rushed replacement.” Her head lowered as she finished her statement. She was bowing. Not to the master or the other Hashira, but to him. To Sanemi. He took a step back, his eyes widening slightly as he attempted to fend off the shock trying to make itself known. 

“Death sticks with us all, Sanemi, but it also allows us the chance to grow.” Oyakata spoke up from the pavilion he rested on. “And in order for us to stay strong, we must grow. I hope you can come to understand this decision.” Sanemi snapped his attention to the Master. Like always, he stood proudly, his smile riddled with a saccharine sympathy. The wind Hashira couldn’t bring himself to argue against the master. If it were anyone else, he’d have a string of words for them, but it had to be the man Sanemi couldn’t bring himself to argue with. 

“I understand, sir. And I apologize for my outburst.” Sanemi rushed before turning on his heel, dismissing himself from the meeting before the master got another word in. He couldn’t believe it, the audacity of that woman, to stand there where Kanae should be and act as though she knew the pain they were feeling. The pain he was feeling. It was insulting, and Sanemi wanted nothing to do with her, for better or worse. 

She apparently had different plans. 

It was less than two hours before Sanemi noticed her intruding on his training. He held back a laugh of disbelief as she walked by him, drawing her sword and quickly beginning her own training regiment. 

“I don’t want to be around you, and I was here first. So, fuck off.” Sanemi argued as he watched her effortlessly destroy a few training dummies the Kakushi had set up. She only laughed at his statement and swung her sword once more. 

“I don’t care! We have to work together, so get used to it.” She claimed, a satisfied smile dawning on her lips as she noticed the rage bubbling up on Sanemi’s face. With another swing of her sword and another destroyed dummy, she turned on her heel to face him, wearing a wide smile. Sanemi seethed at her blatant disregard for his anger. 

“Who do you think you are?” He asked through gritted teeth, his fists clenched and his sword shaking in his hold. She sheathed her katana swiftly before she slowly dragged her eyes over his figure. Her eyes moved slowly as if she were studying him, easily committing every inch of his body to memory. 

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), the newest Hashira and a demon slayer who has worked my ass off for years to be here. And who are you, other than your miserable jackass persona?” Her question was so simple, yet so irking. Sanemi tossed his Katana to the side, figuring it best not to have a weapon in his hands while his emotions were being tested. His hands ran through his hair as he stole a deep breath from the world around him. His hands fell to his side, returning to fists as he glared at the still-smiling woman. 

“I’m Sanemi Shinazugawa, the wind Hashira.” He declared proudly. He was the wind Hashira, one of the strongest members of the demon slayer corps and someone people feared, and Sanemi reveled in the idea of her finally backing down and acknowledging his strength. Instead, (Y/n) shook her head softly, her arms crossing over her chest as she did. Sanemi felt his glare deepen as he watched her arms fold over each other. 

“No. I don’t think you are.” Another pass of her eyes over his figure, “I think you’re just an angry man. That’s all you are, Isolated anger.” She decided. Sanemi felt his jaw drop with her statement. He stood frozen in place, staring at the woman. Her eyebrow raised under his unwavering gaze.

“What gives you the right to say something like that to me?" He challenged, his voice shaking with rage. She sighed softly, and finally, her smile faltered. 

“Because I’ve been in the same position, and if you ignore your rage, it will kill you. It seems as though it’s already doing a number on you.” She deducted, slowly walking toward the man. Her stride was sure, unwavering with each step. If anything, it made Sanemi a little unsure, despite his flurry of anger. 

“Oh, shut up.” He barked, attempting to seem more sure of himself than he truly was. 

“No. Shun people all you want. It’s not going to keep you from getting hurt. If anything, it will just make it worse.” She challenged, her finger poking at his scarred chest as she leaned close to him. Their eyes met, and Sanemi felt his breath hitch. He couldn’t see the color of her eyes, that was expected, but this close, he saw something more. Swirling behind the expanse of colors unknown to Sanemi, there was hope; he knew it was hope. He had seen that look in his eyes one too many times when looking at reflective surfaces. A yearning for something better, for a future free of demons and a life of peace with the family they had remaining, it was the same hope that was continuously torn away from people like them.  

“You don’t know anything about me.” He brushed off the look, pulling away from her before she continued her way out from the training arena. Sanemi watched as she walked off, his eyes glued to her figure. She stopped, turning over her shoulder with a vibrant smile plastered across her face.

“That’s why I am going to do everything in my power to learn about you. Even if you hate it.” She winked at him, giggling softly before completely disappearing. Sanemi stood frozen in place, disbelief at the interaction snaking through his veins. 

He rolled his eyes before going to retrieve his sword. 

“Shinazugawa!” Her voice cut through his thoughts, forcing his feet to stop as he turned over his shoulder. She joined him at his side seconds later, wearing her favorite smile as she came to a halt. She always wore that same smile, even when she was in the midst of arguments. Sanemi swore he had only seen her smile drop twice, and neither time ended well. The better part of him screamed at him to be concerned; someone who wore a smile that pure had to be masking something, especially in this profession. Yet he couldn’t gather the courage to ask, no matter what he did. He could look man-eating demons in the eyes and laugh… But ask her something personal? Sanemi rather feed himself to upper moon one. 

“Hello, (L/n). What brings you out this way?” He spoke softly, probably too softly, but he would worry about that later. The woman beside him bounced slightly on her toes, excitement radiating off her every inch. His head tilted slightly to the side as she looked around at their surroundings as if she were making sure no one was listening to them. 

“You’re not going to believe this!" she began, “But my newest batch of students for training are all graduating a week early! They’ve absolutely mastered stealth training! One of them was so good at it that he snuck up on me!” Her hands clapped together excitedly. Sanemi gave an approving ‘hmm’ at her information, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips despite his better judgment. Despite their rocky introduction, he had always appreciated how proud she was of everyone around her. Some people were proud to the point of arrogance, but she had always been a perfect mix of awareness and pride. That fact had been a reason for Sanemi’s eventual reconciliation with her. 

“That is great to hear, (L/n). The sooner we get them through training, the more time they have to practice summoning a mark.” He nodded slightly, his arms crossing over his chest a moment later. 

“You know, you don’t have to call me by my last name.” Her head tilted slightly to the side, a smug smirk dawning across her face. “Or have you forgotten my first name? You are quite forgetful.” She teased, earning an eye roll from Sanemi. 

“I leave my sword at a meeting one time….” He groaned, earning a soft chuckle from her. Sanemi forced back the ever-growing smile fighting its way onto his face. He hated how effortlessly she could make him smile, and he despised the look she gave him every time she succeeded in drawing a smile onto his face. It wasn’t a smug look nor a look of confusion; it was always one resting on the border of adoration. Although, Sanemi knew he would never let himself believe it. Very few people adored him, and he was sure someone as amazing as (Y/n) would never feel that way about him. 

“You were so distracted that day…I still remember the look on your face when I handed you your katana.” She tapped at her lips as her eyebrow raised, “Makes me wonder what had you so distracted.” She leaned forward, silently prompting Sanemi to share his side of the story. The wind Hashira fought back a chuckle at her prodding. He knew full well why he was so distracted and knew further that he would never dare to utter a word about it in her presence. It was embarrassing to him alone and mortifying to think about others knowing. The wind Hashira, the scariest Hashira the corps had to offer, Sanemi Shinazugawa was distracted by her.  He knew she would always capture his attention with her intricate haori and overall eye-catching demeanor. But in recent weeks, no, in recent months, she had become his favorite distraction. Bad day? Talk to (Y/n). Bored before a mission? Exchange Kasugai crow messages with (Y/n). He truly needed no excuse to talk to her, yet he continued to find them, mainly to save his pride. His eyes flickered down to hers as he formulated another excuse to feed her. 

“The idea of dinner was distracting me.” He lied. She rolled her eyes at his statement, seeing through his fib effortlessly. Sanemi knew he couldn’t keep lying to her, but for something like this, he deemed it better than admitting that he could not shake the woman from his thoughts. 

“Speaking of which…Did you already eat dinner?” She asked, her hands clasping as she looked up at Sanemi. He nodded quickly, attempting to avoid the question of being invited to dinner. He couldn’t allow her to eat dinner with him, not after what happened to everyone who had before. 

“I did, but thank you for asking.” He responded, his sentence fading out quickly. Sanemi turned on his heel, beginning to walk away, only to be followed by (Y/n). She took in their surroundings as they walked. 

“Shame, I was going to invite you over for dinner! I’m thinking of making some hiyashi chuka and maybe some ohagi for dessert.” She looked up at Sanemi, who visibly perked up at the mention of his favorite sweet treat. His hand brushed through his hair as he murmured a soft ‘sounds good’ in response, trying to hide his intrigue. Another sigh from (Y/n), and her head tilted back. 

“You’re so difficult, Sanemi.” She lamented, earning a chuckle from the white-haired man. He looked at her, committing her exasperated expression to memory. His hand found itself atop her head as he rustled her hair, drawing a laugh from her. 

“That’s my specialty.” He said through her fit of giggles. Swiftly she swatted his hands away, stepping in front of him and pointing at his chest. Sanemi stopped short, unmoving under her playful gaze. 

“One day, mark my words, we will have dinner together, and you’ll love it.” She promised, her finger digging into his chest as she poked at him. Sanemi prepared to respond, a witty remark waiting desperately on the tip of his tongue, but when his eyes met hers, the wind Hashira froze. Any word he prepared was immediately gone as he noticed the hues of her face shift slowly. Grey’s were replaced without hesitation, giving way to the stunning shades that made up the appearance of (Y/n) (L/n). He stepped back, unable to process the colors flooding his world. Sanemi’s head snapped up, looking at the flowering trees around them. Grey and white were no more in favor of vibrant purples and greens. The sky was a shade of shimmering orange as the sun set, the remaining blue turning darker by the moment. Sanemi returned his sights to (Y/n’s) eyes. They were stunning. Sparkling and shimmering in the evening light, unblinking as they stared at him. His hands found their place on her arms, holding her gently as he stared at her. 

“Sanemi?” Her eyebrow was raised, and her voice laced with concern. Sanemi attempted to stomp out his excitement to no avail. Years of seeing nothing but white, grey, and black were suddenly thrown out of the window. It didn’t make sense, Sanemi had suffered so much, but in this moment, with her, his life was reignited with a sudden vibrancy he didn’t know he had missed. He didn’t know what to say or do. How do you explain to someone that you just regained the ability to see color after years of being colorblind? The world was silent, full of vibrant colors and an overwhelming peace Sanemi didn’t know was possible. He was at a loss for words, so he said the first thing that came to mind. 

“Have I ever told you that your eyes are striking- no, dazzling… no, that’s not enough.” Sanemi thought for a moment, “You are absolutely captivating.” 

Part 2

#sanemi shinazugawa x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny season 3 #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinaguzawa #demon slayer shinazugawa #return fic #Oopsitszuli #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic

[2demon2slayer]

ANCIENT SUN

-

the smell is what hits tanjirou first.

the entire place reeks of demons. this is a veritable nest of them, all trying to bully each other out of town. apparently, there’s a whole host of people with marechi blood in town, and the demons in surrounding areas have all flocked here, trying to get a taste. truthfully, the demon slayer corps probably shouldn’t have sent just a single mizunoto to deal with this. tanjirou prays they just didn’t know.

amidst the putrid smell of demonic bloodlust, though, is a softer scent. something almost mournful. something almost dangerous. tanjirou stands back to back with nezuko, slashing at any demons that come close. he’s exhausted though— dealing with ten or so demons doped up on marechi blood is no easy task— and just about ready to drop. suddenly, though, the underlying scent spikes and in between one blink and the next, the demons are all dead.

as their bodies turn to ash, tanjirou feels a prickle along his spine, and he spins around to see-

a man stands before nezuko, sword already swinging towards her neck. tanjirou feels as though the very blood is his veins has frozen. time seems to slow, and his eyes lock with the man’s. brilliant red eyes with cat-slitted pupils blink and the sword held in clawed hands halts before meeting nezuko’s skin.

“ah,” the man says, pulling the sword back, “hello.”

-

tanjirou unfreezes in time to pull nezuko backwards, placing himself in between his sister and the demon- slayer? the man doesn’t move to strike, though, rather sheathing his sword and taking a half step back. his face doesn’t show much, but there’s a touch of surprise to his scent. what is it that he could be surprised by, tanjirou wonders?

beyond the surprise, there’s a smell of mourning so deep it very nearly brings tanjirou to tears. it’s a smell he’s only found in a few places before. in urokodaki some days. in tomioka most days. it’s for this reason that tanjirou lowers his own blade, looking up at the demon who smells frighteningly powerful, yet without a trace of human blood on him.

“um,” tanjirou puts his sword away and bows to the stranger, “hello! thank you for your help, sir!” the surprise smell spikes for a moment and the demon dips his head back at tanjirou. his eyes have relaxed into the dull gaze that tanjirou’s seen in both nezuko and tamayo, and tanjirou is struck by a sense of familiarity.

something about this demon tugs at a place in tanjirou’s memories. he feels certain, down to his bones, that even if he hasn’t met this man, he’s at the very least seen him before.

“do-” tanjirou catches himself speaking before he even knows what he’s saying, “do i… know you?”

the surprised smell grows for another moment, before settling. then sadness sets back in, almost deeper than before, and tanjirou feels his eyes getting misty.

“no, i don’t think you do,” the demon says. and even as he does, his voice strikes another chord in tanjirou.

“ah, well… i’m tanjirou. kamado tanjirou. it’s nice to meet you.”

“kamado, huh?” the demon murmurs, his gaze unfocusing for a brief moment. “my name is yoriichi.”

#kny #demon slayer #kamado tanjirou #tsugikuni yoriichi #ancient sun au #personal headcanon that yoriichi never introduces himself as a tsugikuni because he doesn't really feel like one #scribings

[black-is-iconic]

Its Okay Not To Be Okay

"There's no need for such hostility ," Tanjiro chides softly stepping in-between you and the pale skinned boy with a short spikey black mohawk and shaved sides, that  you had accidentally bumped into  causing a little scuffle.

Your hands grasped your katana, ready to cut the little boy down to size but then you noticed two twins girls skin pale as snow.

Eyes wide, yet empty like  lifeless dolls as their lips pulled into a quaint smile "welcome back everyone and congratulations" they spoke in unison with a dead pan expression and identical dull voices.

"We're pleased to see your safe" as they continued speaking you found your interesting waning as you took in the state and amount of survivors for this years final selection.

It was just pitiful, out of the twenty candidates who entered the final selection only four came out (not including you).

One yellowed haired coward, dressed in a yellow and orange gradient hoari crying in a corner and rambling about how he's doomed and destined to die.

An arrogant prick who think's he's hot shit, an obnoxious little do-gooder and some basic bitch dressed in in pink watching butterflies.....they all seemed to be pretty ruffed up besides the one in pink but it's clear as day this years final selection has been a fail.

The sound of cawing broke you from your train of thoughts as crows flew crow down and landed on everyone's shoulder, except for the sniffling coward he got a sparrow.

Your crow landed gracefully on your shoulder, looking you directly in the eye with it's beautiful ruby hued pupil. Unlike everyone's else's  crows which boasted blackish purple feathers, yours was stark white with pink talons and a pink beak.

 You stroked its wings gently, as its feathers ruffled and it's head bowed in a polite greeting which you returned.

As you contemplated names for your companion the boy in purple caussed a fuss, shaking away his crow and rambling like a child about receiving his sword.

While stalking over to the twin with white hair and grabbing her by the hair, your brows furrowed in a displeased manner watching him man handle the girl who was only doing her job.

You were slightly off put by her lack of response but before you could move Tanjiro was already on it stalking towards the prick with a soft scowl.

They had a little dispute which ended in Tanjiro causally breaking the pricks arm, without hesitation.

The black haired twin continued to speak, revealing a table or ores and instructing the group to pick one and while everyone else hesitated you and Tanjiro stepped forward observing the table of ore.

Each was a different shape and size, and it really didn't matter to you what ore got so you just picked any random one.

However as you grabbed for an ore, Tanjiro grabbed for the same one and you wound up grasping each others hands, you flinched and pulled your hand away shocked by their calloused nature and how  warm their touch felt.

"S-Sorry you can have that one if you like" he awkwardly laughed, raising his hands in surrender as you glared a him picking up the ore and tossing it to the twin with white hair.

"It'll take about ten to fifteen days for your swords to be made, as of right now your all demons slayers, their are ten ranks, Mizunoto, Mizunoe, Kanoto, Kanoe, Tsuchinoto, Tsuchinoe, Hinoto, Hinoe, Kinoto, and Kinoe. In that order, you will all be starting as Mizunoto this is the lowest rank in the demon slayer corpse- well except for Y/N she will being starting as rank Tschinoto".

The twins spoke softly and everyone's eyes darted to you, "hey why does she get special treatment what makes her so much different than us?"

He growled and your eyes involuntarily rolled "there were one hundred demons in this years final selection" the white haired twin continued and the prick's almost nonexistent eyebrows furrowed  "so?"

He demanded crossing his arms "she killed sixty seven of them"  the twins replied simply,  once again you were the center of attention and it made your skin crawl a little "may I leave now?"

You asked the twins who nodded and bowed in respect which you returned, you completely ignored the ramblings of mister prick only stopping when tanjiro's fingers found themselves wrapped around your wrist.

"U-um I never got your name" he mumbled softly looking at you with a quaint smile, but you yanked your hand free from his grasp continuing your walk.

"That's because I didn't give it, and I don't plan to. Look you seem like a swell guy, but  I'm not interested in making friends with you. I have more important  things to worry about, and every minute I spend mindlessly chatting with you. Is a second another human life is in danger, so if your done wasting my time I'm going to go train".

He frowned slightly and you almost felt bad......almost, mr prick growled "don't think you're better than us just because your a higher rank. "

A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you turned around, rubbing your temples having grown tired of his bullshit. "First and foremost I don't think I'm better than you I am better than you, secondly I saw you in the forest swinging around your sword without any form of control or discipline. I'm surprised your not dead, but I'm sure that won't last long, I  watched you for a minute because I thought you were a helpless  idiot off to a rough start. But then I realized it wasn't the case. Your just awful" you spat venomously.

 "No technique, no plan, not even a breathing style your just some average joe with a chip on his shoulder swinging around a sword and hoping it'll do something. Well news flash, it doesn't. This isn't some game it's a way of life, and from what I saw one your not suited for. Quit being a demon slayer before you further embarrass yourself, and someone has to bury you. Go do something a little more on your level, and leave the slaying to those of us who are actually  qualified for the position. "

you hissed glaring at him from over your shoulder before beginning your journey home.

#black reader #kny x reader #slow burn #tanjiro x reader #shinaguzawa genya

[gingerpeachtae]

Incalescent

masterlist

Pairing: rengoku x f.reader

Words: 19.8k

Genres: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, isekai

Warnings: kidnapping, psychological torture

Summary: You had recently become the personal chef for the highest-ranking members of the Demon Slayer Corps. You were getting used to the heat of the kitchen and the chaos of the Hashira…  but you did not expect to feel so warm around one of them in particular.

Playlist: Apple Music / Spotify - I recommend listening in order

A/N: The promised Rengoku fic for my dear bb @thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch​ !  Alsooo thank you to my honie @miss-insomniac​ for making the spotify playlist (check out her playlists yall, they slap) As for the fic, the isekai plot line is influenced by the Iekmen Songoku otome game and all the Hashira have residence at corps headquarters for the sake of plot. Enjoy the fiery himbo yall 💙🍑💙

The wind gently swayed the noren hanging above shop entryways, the lanterns casted a warm glow against the darkening sky, and your sandals softly crunched as they slid over the dirt and gravel.  Your hand gripped the strap of your bag while you weaved through the crowd filling the town’s main street.

“Stupid Shinazugawa and his stupid ginger,” you muttered as you slipped between countless bodies. “And my stupid ass for forgetting to restock it.” The jar containing the Hashira’s precious pickled condiment thumped against your thigh every couple of steps, and it was a constant reminder as to why you needed to hurry back to the dining hall.

Bugs whizzed through the air and danced in the light coming from the lanterns. Tree leaves rustled behind the buildings, and white noise from indistinct conversations rose up all around you. The spring air felt humid and sticky, and your skin tingled from the eyes watching you rush down the street. You ignored the uncomfortable feeling, choosing to focus on moving as quickly as possible instead. Within the next minute, you managed to escape the throng of people and enter the woodsy path that led to the Corps headquarters. Your eyes squinted as the trees blocked out most of the moonlight, and the warm light of the town faded behind you. A low hanging branch nearly whacked you in the face, several rocks and roots sent you stumbling, and you frequently hissed out strings of curses.

“They can protect humanity from demons but can’t put up some freaking lights. Typical.” Another rock made you trip, and you yelled in frustration, desperately longing for tennis shoes to protect your toes. After a few more close calls, the trees finally opened to reveal the moon and the two Mizunoto guarding the gate. You huffed in relief and hurried over.

The Mizunoto guarding the entrance shifted at your approach. They glanced at each other before one cleared his throat. “Are you alright? We, um, could hear you for a while…”

You barked out a laugh and waved your hand dismissively. “All good. Just couldn’t see squat.”

“O-Okay?” the other said in confusion. “Did you-”

“Mission success.” You lifted your bag, smiling.

Both Mizunoto exhaled and nodded, then stepped aside to let you in. You thanked them both and told them you’d bring the dango you’d promised in the morning.

“Have a nice night!”

You waved over your shoulder as you immediately started heading toward the dining hall. Lower ranked slayers meandered about — some going to their posts, others to the training grounds. The sounds of swords clashing in the distance intermingled with the frogs croaking in nearby ponds. It was a chaotically peaceful evening, and you wished you had time to sit and take in the comforting noises.

You shook your head, tightened your grip on the bag, and kept moving… until a hand came down on your shoulder. As you stiffened from the unexpected contact, the hand pressed down and forced you to stop.

“You’re not supposed to go out by yourself.”

There was a blur of yellow and red in your peripherals, and the tension in your body ebbed. You rolled your eyes. “Come on, it’s been weeks since any of you bothered to ‘escort’ me. And I’m kinda in a hurry right now, so…” You stepped away from Rengoku’s hand and turned toward him with a grin, but it faltered when you saw dried blood covering his face.

It was coating his cheek, partially obscuring the fresh bruise on his jaw. It was crusted over his brow as well as cracking and flaking off around his mouth from the smile he was sending your way. It was even matted in his hair, blending into the red tips that framed his face. You were pretty sure it was all his blood, too. You could tell from the countless cuts and scratches marring his face. No doubt the rest of his body was also bloodied and bruised.

Frowning, you stepped forward and raised a hand. Rengoku raised an eyebrow and tracked your movement curiously… then winced when you prodded at a cut beneath his eye.

“I’m fine,” he said while covering your hand with his and bringing it away. “It’s just part of the job.”

“For fuck’s sake, you’re not fine. Go clean up and go to bed.” He was still holding your hand, his palm and fingers calloused and warm. It felt nice. You blinked, sucked in a breath, and tried to tug free. “I gotta get this to Shinazugawa, but I’ll bring you dinner later.”

His bright eyes were amused as he watched you struggle to pull away. Then his gaze dipped lower to the bag swinging at your side. He hummed and finally released your hand, only the pluck the bag out of your grasp and stroll past you.

“Hey! I need that!” you shouted at the disheveled back of his head.

He peeked over his shoulder, another smile taking over his battered features. “I think you mean Shinazugawa needs it.”

You stared at his beaming expression which contrasted so vastly with his marred skin and tattered haori.

I want to tell him, you suddenly thought.

“If we don’t hurry, he’s going to stab the table again,” he called back to you.

That got your feet moving and you practically ran to catch up. Once the dining hall came into view, your nerves got the better of you, and you snatched your bag back. After hopping up the steps, you kicked your sandals off, dropped to your knees, and thrust the sliding door aside.

“Fucking took you long enough,” Shinazugawa spit out. He was impatiently tapping his finger against the polished wooden table, but his sword was still in its sheath.

Relaxing, you breathed out and shuffled past the Hashira. Some greeted you, some quietly nodded at your return, and others simply continued eating. You ducked into the kitchen in the back, took out the jar of pickled ginger, and slammed it down on the counter along with a tiny bowl from the cupboard. While you placed some ginger in the bowl, you heard Shinazugawa snort loudly. “Well, you look like shit.”

Rengoku must have come in.

“Did you just get back!? Why aren’t you resting!?” Kanroji’s voice was filled with concern.

You grabbed the bowl of ginger and the kettle keeping the soba broth warm then returned to the hall just in time to see Rengoku shrug. He met your eyes briefly before saying that he couldn’t skip dinner.

Without saying anything else, he went to his usual seat. You unceremoniously set the ginger in front of Shinazugawa then poured the broth into his bowl. The wind Hashira grumbled his thanks for the meal and picked up his chopsticks while Rengoku stiffly lowered his body to the floor.

“You should’ve washed first, at least.” Kocho wrinkled her nose. “You’re dirty and you stink.”

Rengoku only laughed as his eyes slid to you again. “But I’m still the most handsome, right Y/N?”

You shot the man a deadpan look before slipping back into the kitchen to add soba and sliced mushrooms to a clean bowl. A moment later, you were placing it in front Rengoku and filling it to the brim with broth. You quickly escaped to the kitchen once more to prepare two more bowls, side dishes, and a teapot of broth. It was all set on a tray, which you carefully picked up by the side handles. Heading back out, you announced you were going to bring the Ubuyashikis their meal.

You were reaching for the door when Rengoku abruptly cried out that you never answered his question. Pausing, you took a deep breath and fought the smirk that threatened to twist your lips. “Of course, you’re the most handsome…”

“Aw, you’re always so swee-”

“After Tomioka and Uzui,” you added, turning your head to watch the way his jaw fell and his chopstick-full of noodles stopped halfway to his mouth. You pressed your lips together and opened the door while the dining hall went silent. You first lifted the tray through the doorway then yourself, and as soon as you shut the door, the room erupted with the howling laughter of several Hashira and Uzui’s smug taunts.

The first rays of light began creeping over the horizon, the golden beams peeking past the trees and mountain peaks as you finished chopping green scallions. The smell of freshly made dashi permeated the air, and water was coming to a boil in the kettle over the smoldering coals. You set your knife down, wiped your hands on the cloth over your shoulder, and started organizing the numerous bowls of prepped ingredients when a loud clap right outside the kitchen caused you to jump. With a sigh, you turned around just as Rengoku walked past the noren.

“Good morning, sweets! I’m here to help with breakfast.”

Your gaze scanned him up and down while he breathed in through his nose and mumbled how it already smelled heavenly. His face was clean of grime and his hair was brushed out. Cuts still scattered his skin and the bruise on his jaw had blossomed into deep blues and purples, but he had some bandages on the nastier injuries and looked somewhat rested.

While you were glad to see he had taken care of himself, you crossed your arms and scoffed. “You’re not here to help. You’re here to watch the sunrise through a dinky window while you sip tea and keep an eye on me.”

Just as he’d done many mornings and afternoons since you’d arrived, but you couldn’t really be upset at him for it.

With a steady hand, you ladled some of the boiling water into a teapot. As you waited for the tea to steep, you readied two cups, making sure to grab Rengoku’s favored red one for him.

“You might be right about breakfast, the sunrise, and tea, but in regards to you, you’re wrong.” He grinned and tugged at the tie holding his hair back. “I’m here for your company, not to keep an eye on you.”

His eyes smiled too, and you focused on pouring the tea to avoid seeing how adorable it made him.

In response to your silence, Rengoku quickly added, “Like you said, nobody has needed to watch you for a while now. We trust you.”

Your heart pounded and you slowly inhaled. I should really tell him.

You passed him his cup then settled against the counter to watch the sky brighten. Despite the beauty of the world awakening, your mind refused to quiet down. Should you tell him now? Later? Would he even believe you? Would you lose all the trust you’d gained? The thoughts had you finishing your tea fast. You almost choked while guzzling it, but you desperately needed to give your hands something to do besides merely holding a cup.

The sky got lighter as you removed the pot of rice from the coals then started making miso soup. You hauled the dashi back to the coals and gently stirred the miso into the stock. Rengoku sighed in content and poured himself more tea before shifting to the corner so he was out of your way. While you worked, he told you about his recent mission. As usual, he skirted around the more violent details, instead telling you about the scenery, the people he saved, and the food he ate.

“There was a food stall with really good yakitori, but it wasn’t as good as yours.”

You sniffed and said, “Damn right it wasn’t.”

Returning to the coals, you removed the miso soup and replaced it with a grill rack. You scooped rice into bowls, covered them with lids, and loaded them onto a tray. Without a word, Rengoku came forward and lifted the tray. As he carried the rice out to the hall, you salted the portioned fish before adding the green onions to another round of bowls. When Rengoku returned, he held the tray steady so you could line it with the new bowls. He dutifully brought them out as well and came back for a moment to fetch the kettle of soup.

“Thank you!” You crouched to begin grilling the fish. “Do you mind setting out the chopsticks too?”

He readily agreed to do so.

A minute later, Rengoku poked his head past the noren. He slinked into the kitchen and silently gathered a bundle of chopsticks and the bag of rests. You felt his presence stop beside you, and out of the corner of your eyes, you saw a pair of chopsticks inch toward a piece of fish.

“Don’t you da-”

The chopsticks darted forward and dug into the fish. An offended shriek tore its way out of your throat. You snatched the cloth from your shoulder and whipped it at his thigh. He yelped and scurried out of the kitchen. Huffing, you made a mental note to make that piece of fish his.

“The hell did you do this time?” A new voice traveled to the kitchen — Kocho.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

You could hear the smugnes in Rengoku’s reply.

“He stole a bite!” you shouted.

Kocho tsked loudly and Rengoku shouted back that checking quality and seasoning was important.

You heard the door slide open and yet another voice said, “You’re too loud.”

Snorting, you guessed the newcomer was Iguro. The Hashira made small talk while you rearranged the rack so only three pieces, including Rengoku’s, were directly over the heat. Once they were cooked through, you put them on small plates and brought them out on a tray along with some sides. You repeated this as each Hashira entered the dining hall, with the exemption of two: Uzui ate breakfast at home with his wives, and Tokito was still on his mission.

After everyone had been served, you rested in Tokito’s seat to watch the Hashira eat and banter for a few minutes. Rengoku was in the middle of chatting with Himejima, yet he looked over and mouthed that the food was delicious. Your cheeks grew warm, and you hastily averted your eyes to draw on the table with your fingertip.

I need to tell him.

Across the table, Tomioka raised his head at your motions. He studied your finger gliding across the wood in blatant confusion, which was quite endearing. You softly said his name to get his attention. “What would you like for dinner? It’s your turn to choose.”

He set his chopsticks down. “Whatever is easiest for you.”

“You want salmon and daikon, right?”

He blinked in astonishment. Then, to your surprise, his lips twitched upwards.

Kocho gasped. “Is that a smile!? Guys! Y/N got Giyu to smile!”

The water Hashira instantly scowled and Misturi groaned, upset about not seeing the rarity. Shaking your head in amusement, you stood and went back to the kitchen. After cleaning up a little, you got out the rice flour. Stretching your arms over your head, you wondered if Rengoku would want to help you make dango. He did love sweet things, after all. You looked past the noren to see if he was still eating, but all his dishes as well as his seat were empty. Your lips pursed. He normally thanked you before leaving.

He must be busy today. You shrugged and let the fabric fall back into place.

The Mizunoto boys waved goodbye with full cheeks and half-eaten skewers in hand as you left their barracks. After making sure the container of arare was still safely tucked inside your bag, you began walking toward the training grounds.

It was a cool morning, the breeze making you shiver whenever it picked up, but the sunlight was warm on your face whenever it broke through the trees. The birds chirped and bugs sang as you wandered along the path, but their melodies were soon overtaken by the sounds of powerful cries and weapons clashing. Your hands drummed on your thighs, matching the synchronized yells of the training slayers in the courtyards. You didn’t follow the noise, though. Rather, you took a side path at the rock with “ganbaru” etched into the surface. The narrow trail led to a circular opening surrounded by stone pagodas, and just as Shinazugawa had predicted, Rengoku was training in the middle of the circle.

Light refracted off the blade of his sword as he slowly moved it though the air with practiced ease. His back was facing you and his naked upper body was shiny with sweat. It was also covered in fresh cuts, pale scars, and multi-colored bruises. A testament to how often he was willing to sacrifice himself for the good of the world.

Mesmerized by the grace and power of his motions, you stopped just outside the opening. His shoulder blades pinched in as he moved the sword back. The muscles in his arm flexed when he cut the blade forward, yet his grip on the hilt stayed relaxed. You barely blinked, unable to look away from the strength and skill of his motions. You watched him go through several more forms, each proficient and deadly in the most beautiful way, until he fluidly sheathed the blade. He placed the sword on the ground, knelt, and bowed. Shadows danced over the ground and the curve of Rengoku’s spine. His body tensed as he raised himself out of the bow, and his shoulders rose and fell heavily while he stayed kneeling. Meanwhile, you shifted your weight, unsure how you should make your presence known.

“Thank you for not interrupting.”

You flinched in surprise. Cheeks growing hot, you asked how long he had known you were there. You took tentative steps forward, your feet stopping just shy of the circle’s edge since you didn’t know if you were allowed to enter.

He looked back at you. “As soon as you entered the path.”

Holding in a groan, you lowered your head. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

A boisterous laugh made you look back up. Rengoku had turned his body to face you, was sitting on the ground with one knee raised, and his head was tilted back in the sunlight. Once his laughter died down, he smiled and motioned for you to come closer. While you did so, he leaned over to grab his jacket where it was neatly folded beneath once of the pagodas. 

Digging out the container of arare, you squatted before him and held out the snack. “For you.”

He stopped buttoning up his top halfway to look at the arare then at your face then back at the arare. “For me?”

“For helping set up breakfast. I had some leftover rice flour from the dango, so…” You shook the container, trying to entice him to take it.

His orange-red eyes flickered back to you. “Thank y-wait. Dango?” His gaze went down to your bag, expression turning hopeful.

Snorting, you shoved the container into his hands and stood before informing him there was none left. “Though you would have gotten some if you’d bothered to say goodbye earlier.”

A cheeky response was what you expected. Maybe a dramatic explanation for his departure. You did not expect Rengoku to look away, hair sticking to the side of his neck, as he stammered out a quiet apology. He sounded sad, upset even. You didn’t know what to say to the sudden change. After a moment, he faced you again, expression bright once more, and asked what you were up to besides giving him treats.

Whatever that just was with him, you didn’t like it. But you could pick up on cues. He didn’t want to discuss it.

He finished buttoning his jacket, swiped up his haori, and gestured to your bag. “You’re going to town for ingredients, right? It’s about the time you usually do.”

You nodded and said you had to get more daikon. Rengoku’s brows furrowed for a heartbeat, then he stood and dusted off his pants. “I’ll come with you.”

“Because I’m not supposed to go out by myself?” you teased, giving his arm a nudge. “I thought you all trust me now.”

He sighed and secured his sword to his belt before ushering you back to the path. “I want to help. I like helping you… and others! I just like helping, okay?”

He marched you to the gate, several slayers staring in bewilderment at the speed and determination of his gait.

When you exited headquarters, he handed you his haori to put inside your bag. Then he popped the lid of the arare container and brought one to his mouth. His eyes widened as he tasted the rice snack and began muttering to himself.

Concerned, you asked if they were bad,

“No, they’re delicious. How is everything you make so delicious?”

Your pride swelled, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. Should I tell him now?

You inhaled and parted your lips, but nothing came out.

How do I even bring up something like this?

You fidgeted with the bag.

Will he think I’m lying? Will it be a joke to him?

The internal battle continued the entire way down the woodsy trail to town. It kept up as you perused the vegetable seller’s selection. It got louder when Rengoku refused to let you carry the daikon back to headquarters.

You followed Rengoku as he easily maneuvered through the crowded street. Every few steps, he would look back at you.

Tell him, your mind insisted, Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him!

You shook your head and stared down at the dirt and gravel.

Why would I tell him here? And now? It’s definitely not the right time or setting.

“Oh my, is that Rengoku?” someone whispered.

“Sweets?” Rengoku’s voice was filled with worry. “Is everythi-”

“Oh, it is!”

“Rengoku!”

People suddenly swarmed the Hashira, and you were also surrounded due to your close proximity. The atmosphere, which had been relatively peaceful outside your mind, erupted in a barrage of questions. Asking for assistance, asking how his recent mission went, asking if he was hurt and needed help with his wounds, asking if he needed help relaxing, asking if he would try a new recipe.

This happened often when Rengoku accompanied you to get groceries. He was extremely popular with the townsfolk. They adored him. Wanted to be like him. Wanted to be around him. Wanted to be with him. And you knew he loved it.

His whole life is helping and saving others. To protect them from threats.

If I tell him the truth and he deems me a threat…

You looked down at his sword and felt a little nauseous.

All at once, the noise became too much. Too much going on in your head and too much hitting your ears. Grimacing, you took the bag from Rengoku. He shot you a worried look, but you held up an OK sign and stepped back. He reached out toward you. Panic swirled in your gut. You quickly pushed past the people around you and hurried back to headquarters alone.

You slid your bedroom door shut and slumped forward. Your head throbbed. Your feet were sore. Your entire body felt heavy. You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes to the soothing darkness of your room. You exhaled slowly, telling yourself you only had to change and wash up before you could sleep. You clenched your fists and nodded. The motion sent a flash of pain through your brain, and you massaged the heel of your palm into your forehead.

All of the sudden, the floor outside your room creaked and someone cleared their throat on the other side of your door. You gritted your teeth. Maybe you could just pretend to be asleep, and they would go away.

“It’s me.”

Of course it’s you.

“Come on, sweets. Open up. I know you’re awake, and I need to talk to you.”

Groaning in frustration, you pivoted and pushed the door aside. Before Rengoku could utter a word, you trudged over to your floor cushions and sat down. “If you wanna talk, then come sit. I’m too tired to stand.”

“I, um… okay.” Rengoku’s ears were tinged red as he quietly shut the door behind him. He sat on the cushion across from you and squirmed, avoiding your eyes. His fingers tapped over his sword hilt. You stiffened. Your heartbeat synchronized with the pulses in your head. Rengoku’s gaze finally shifted to you. “I’ve noticed how restless you’ve been,” he started softly. “Like there’s something on your mind. I may be overstepping, but I wanted to check on you.”

You looked down at your lap.

Tell him! Tell him! He’s giving you the perfect time and place!

His hand is on his sword. He’s within cutting distance. Did he do that on purpose?

“Especially since it seems to be connected to me.”

Your breaths came faster… and faster and faster and faster until choked laughter bubbled its way out of your throat. How stupid of you to think he wouldn’t realize. How stupid of you to think he wouldn’t know he was involved. How stupid of you to think you could live a lie. How stupid of you. How stupid of you. How stupid of you. How stupid of you.

“-/N. Y/N!”

A hand jostled your shoulder and pulled you out of the spiral of your thoughts. Jerking away from his touch, you tilted your head back and stared at the ceiling. Another strained chuckle escaped past your lips. “Sorry. It’s just this is what I was worried about. This conversation.”

“This conversation…? Me checking if you’re okay?”

Shaking your head, you dragged a hand down your face. I just need to say it. You blew out a puff of air. Just say it. “I’m not from here.”

“I know.”

“No. I’m not from here.” Your fingers clutched at the collar of your yukata. “This time period. This world, too. Maybe. I don’t know. I never read about demons in feudal Japan.”

You refused to look at Rengoku as he asked what you meant.

“I’ll show you something,” you said, eyes falling to the dresser in the corner of the room. You crawled over and reached into the very back of the lowest drawer to tug out the hiking backpack hidden inside. Your thumbnail repeatedly scratched at the zipper. Bracing yourself, you turned back to Rengoku and saw he was watching you and the bag intently. He was leaning forward slightly but was otherwise still.

You went back to your cushion and placed the backpack between you and Rengoku. You slowly unzipped the main compartment, hoping he wouldn’t startle from the sound. While you searched inside for your phone, he leaned further to get a better look. Your movements turned rigid. He moved back. You took a second to force yourself to relax, then explained you were from a time and place where there were no demons and better technology.

He tipped his chin toward your phone. “And what’s that thing?”

“It’s called a smartphone. It’s a communication device, among other things.”

“Other things?” His eyes narrowed.

Shit, that probably sounded suspicious as fuck.

You quickly described some of the phone’s other functions as simply as you could. “I can, um, show you? If you want?”

Rengoku studied your phone for several seconds before nodding. With trembling fingers, you turned the phone on, and the room illuminated with light, making Rengoku gasp.

Only 32 percent left…

As you swiped through the phone and explained what it could do, you could hear Rengoku muttering in awe. You took a picture of the ceiling, flash on, and showed it to him. He rapidly looked between the phone screen and the ceiling, obviously amazed but incredibly confused. You really wanted to take a picture of him, but you were hesitant to point the camera his way. You didn’t want to push your luck. At one point, while you were showing him some photos in a saved album, you mentioned the phone could play music, and his eyes practically bugged out. You scrambled to take out the earbuds crammed in the side pocket, plug them in, and pull up your favorite song. For all you knew, it might be the last time you could listen to it.  After demonstrating how to use the earbuds, you held one out to Rengoku and pressed play once he was ready. He breathed in sharply as the song began, but you just closed your eyes and let the music drape over you. When the last note faded, you sighed and removed the earbud. Rengoku followed suit. It was silent while you unplugged the cord and he considered the phone.

“Okay, I believe you.”

Your head shot up. “You believe me?”

“I believe you,” he confirmed, his voice soft yet firm. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Your hand came to rest over your pounding heart and heat pricked at your eyes. I should be thanking you, dummy.

Rengoku moved so his cushion was a little closer to you. When you didn’t tense up, he did it again. His knee was almost touching yours. “So how did you get here?” he asked.

Masking a sniffle with your sleeve, you turned your phone off and plunged the room back into darkness. You told him how you had tried to take a shortcut while hiking. There had been an incoming storm and wanted to get home before it hit, but you ended up getting lost.

Yet another example of how stupid I am.

The wind had just started picking up when you’d come across an expansive yet decrepit cemetery in the woods. Out of curiosity, you’d approached one of the tombstones and rested a hand on the cool stone. Mere seconds after touching it, heat and light had seared all around you. Lighting, probably. When the light died down, it was pouring rain and cemetery looked restored. Then, you’d heard footsteps running your way.

“That’s when you saved the Ubuyashikis,” Rengoku said.

You hummed, remembering the horror of seeing a thing, which you would later learn to be a demon, chasing Ubuyashiki and his wife… and the subsequent horror that your fight or flight reaction was to pepper spray the demon.

“After that whole excursion, I realized I wasn’t home anymore. But I was scared of you guys with your swords and shit, so I made up the story of the demon killing my family and kidnapping me. Sorry for lying.”

Rengoku snorted and waved his hand. “It was the right decision, honestly. We were suspicious of you and thought you were sent my Muzan to infiltrate us.”

“And that’s on self-preservation,” you declared, shooting some finger guns his way.

He blinked before bursting into laughter. “And this explains all your weird vocabulary and gestures. You’re definitely not from a small village in the countryside.”

Swatting at his arm, you argued you hadn’t had enough time to come up with a better fake life story. He only laughed harder, and his eyes squished closed. His knee knocked into yours. A shockwave of warmth surged in your chest. The feeling was nice but strange, so you shoved your phone back into your bag and zipped it shut. After returning the backpack to its hiding place, Rengoku asked more questions about where you came from. The two you of you stayed up talking a little while longer until a yawn interrupted your description of comic books.

Rengoku clapped his hands and stood. “It’s late, I should get going.”

You sleepily waved goodbye but grabbed onto his pants as he walked by. “Hey, Rengoku? Thank you. I mean it.”

“Of course, sweets. Just don’t keep stuff from me anymore, you had me worried.”

You gave him a sluggish thumbs up, to which he smiled and wished you a good night before quietly slipping out the door.

Warm air and the melodic swishing of leaves flowed into the dining hall through the open doorway. Resting in Shinazugawa’s seat, you watched the clouds slowly trek across the sky while listening to the Hashira eat and converse. When the wisp of a cloud you’d been following disappeared beyond the doorway, you checked the table to see if anyone needed anything. Beside you, Rengoku was debating the use of non-nichirin blades with Tokito. As Tokito went on about the logistics of having one for emergencies, Rengoku lifted his rice bowl. His eyes slid your way and he winked. You stuck your tongue out.

It had been over a month since the night you told Rengoku the truth. You had grown closer to the flame Hashira, just as the air grew warmer. It had become a tradition of sorts to keep him quiet company while he trained, just as he “helped” you with breakfast in the mornings. In return, he would carry your groceries back from town. He even told his fans to keep a respectful distance when he was with you. At headquarters, the two of you would often be seen running through the training grounds playing tag, the lower ranked slayers gaping at the sight. You’d tried to get them to join in several times, but most scattered at the suggestion. Only Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke would participate on occasion, sometimes Uzui’s wives too, but you were never able to catch any of them like you did Rengoku. You also started keeping a constant supply of the arare you’d made Rengoku after a passing comment that it was his new favorite snack, especially when he was on a mission. He never missed dinner when he was around either. Even when he had just returned and was battered and exhausted, he never missed dinner.

“Your food heals my wounds and my soul,” he’d said.

What a dummy.

Noticing that everyone was nearly finished with their meal, you sneaked into the kitchen. You lifted the tray you’d left on the counter earlier and went back to the hall. “Excuse me, I have a gift for everyone.”

“Oh my! Y/N, you’re so sweet!” Kanroji gasped out before holding her chin with her fingers. “Maybe I should call you ‘sweets,’ like Rengoku does.”

He crossed his arms. “Hey now, sweets is my thing.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you adjusted your hold on the tray.

“Don’t get jealous,” Kocho teased, making Suma giggle into Hinatsura’s shoulder.

“And don’t interrupt,” Himejima chastised then gestured to you. “Go ahead, Y/N.”

Their attention swiveled back to you, so you inclined your head and explained you’d made personalized tea blends for everyone. They had been working so hard, and you wanted to do something to show your recognition. Walking around the table, you passed out the gifts, which were small poches with a handwritten note attached. Since the blends were different for each Hashira, you had written down the ingredients and effects of each tea on the note. Of course, you’d tried to keep their preferences and needs in mind for each. You’d also made blends for Suma, Hinatsura, and Makio, who seemed touched by their inclusion. When you reached Tomioka, you placed three additional pouches next to his.

You cupped your hand by his ear and whispered, “Those are for Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke. Please pass them along for me.”

Tomioka simply nodded and inspected the note on his pouch.

After completing the rounds, you returned to Shinazugawa’s seat as some of the Hashira chatted about their tea. You turned to Rengoku, eager to tell him about his blend, but found he was staring at the pouches in front of Tomioka. He inhaled slowly through his nose. You poked his arm. His jaw ticked. You poked him again and told him not to glare.

“He got extra,” he mumbled.

“No, he didn’t. Those are for Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke, so don’t pout.” You poked him a third time then goaded, “Besides, yours is the special one.”

His bright eyes glanced your way. “Special?”

“Mhmm. Wanna know why?” You picked up his pouch and carefully opened it to reveal the contents. “See? It’s a powdered mix. You’ve mentioned you overheat easily in summer, so this will dissolve even in cold water.”

“You made this?”

“Yeah, just a little bit of grinding.” You closed the pouch then inspected your arm. “Though I think my forearm has superstrength now.”

He gently took the pouch from your hands to look at the note, and his thumb smoothed over the smiley face you had drawn.

“I think you’ll like the blend, but we can change it if not.”

“No, it’s perfect.”

“You haven’t even tried it.”

He shook his head and cradled the pouch in his palm. “It’s perfect.”

A few nights later, you were preparing to leave the dining hall after a long day, and through the kitchen window, you could see the moon was bright behind the clouds. It reminded you of a hazy beacon that was ready to guide you home.

If only it could guide me to a McDonald’s. Your hands pressed into your stomach, the empty feeling practically making you ache.

You had meant to eat, you really had. But Himejima had requested buta no kakuni for dinner and you hadn’t realized you were practically out of ginger root until after you’d gotten back from shopping. It was always the ginger, somehow. So, of course, you’d had to run back to town to get some, and the whole trip had been uncomfortable because it was humid and it felt like someone was watching you. You knew it was just the townsfolk gawking as your ass rushed by, but it still made you hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. Then, you’d needed to stay attentive while the pork belly cooked, and after that it was a whole lot of dishes to clean. And after that, your impulses had urged you to do an inventory count of the food cellar so you wouldn’t have yet another ginger mishap in the near future. By the time you’d finished, your brain was too drained to bother making anything to eat for yourself.

Blowing out a raspberry, you did a final scan of the kitchen then headed for the door. The first thing you noticed when you slid it open was the sticky warmth of the air, not even the nighttime provided an escape from the summer heat. The second thing was Rengoku sitting on the steps with his yellow and red hair standing out in the low light. It wasn’t pulled back either. Instead, it loosely fell around his face in wild waves. You didn’t get to see it like that often.

It looks soft. The thought was sudden, and your hand tightened on the doorframe. Thankfully, you weren’t allowed to dwell on the potential softness of your friend’s hair because Rengoku perked up at your appearance and pointed at the step beside him.

You hovered in the doorway, confused. Was the step broken? But why would he be sitting there then? Why is he there, anyway?

He made a tiny noise and pointed at the step again.

A series of possibilities ran through your mind, and dread pooled in your stomach. “Oh shit, is there a bug? Is it big?”

“Sit. Just… sit. Please.” Rengoku tugged at a lock of hair. “I need you to sit.”

“Ah… right.”

While you went over, Rengoku grabbed something from a lower step and said, “It blows my mind how you can forget to feed yourself when you’re surrounded by food most of the day.”

Your feet stopped and your head cocked to the side. “How did y-”

“I pay attention,” he interrupted, grabbing your wrist and tugging you down next to him. He shoved a bento and pair of chopsticks in your hands. “Eat. I know you haven’t since this morning, so I got you dinner.”

You opened the lid, stunned, and took in the spread as your stomach rumbled. “You’re seriously the best.”

Rengoku reclined against the steps and looked up at the sky. “You need to take better care of yourself, sweets.”

Shrugging, you picked up a sushi roll and proclaimed you wouldn’t die from not eating for a day. Rengoku didn’t seem to appreciate that answer, however. He abruptly leaned in with his eyes narrowed to slits, and asked you repeat yourself. You stuffed the sushi in your mouth, half out of panic and half to give yourself time to weigh your options. Should you give in or stay stubborn? You chewed thoughtfully, but Rengoku let out a low hum, prompting you to respond and practically daring you to challenge him again.

Swallowing hard, you choked out, “I’ll be sure to eat, I promise.”

“Good. I’m having Shinazugawa check to make sure you’re keeping that promise while I’m gone.”

“New mission?”

He moved back to his previous position and nodded. “On a train, of all places.”

Your chopsticks came to a halt. That wasn’t a great place to fight demons. It was cramped. It was filled with civilians. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight.”

So, he was leaving right away. Ignoring the odd twinge in your chest, you pointed your chopsticks his way and ordered him to kick some ass. His chuckle was warm, just like the air. The bugs clicked, the breeze blew his hair across his cheek, and the leaves frantically danced in the aftermath. Forcing your eyes back to the bento, you slowly ate, enjoying the calmness under the moonlight with him.

The utter and prolonged lack of Rengoku had you restless. Sure, he had gone on missions before, but they hadn’t lasted for several weeks like this one. Your disturbance at his absence showed how much he had wormed his way into your life.

In the mornings, you automatically brought down two cups for tea before sighing and putting the red one back. In the afternoons, your knuckles would awkwardly rap against a tree when you remembered there was no reason for you to go to the training grounds. This usually happened after you’d already walked halfway there. Sometimes, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke would find you resting in the shade post-realization and indulge you for a while. Then, when you went into town, you often had to remind yourself you didn’t have an extra set of hands to help carry things. A lot of Rengoku’s fans would ask where he was, too. And if they didn’t ask directly, you could feel them eyeing you and wondering why he wasn’t with you. Maybe you were being overly self-conscious, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant when you were just trying to do your job.

Overall, the deviation from your normal routine had you practically itchy, leading you to try getting some part of it back by asking Shinazugawa if you could watch him train. He had refused. He’d even flicked your forehead before stalking off, and the attempt at normalcy was left there since you didn’t feel comfortable asking any of the other Hashira.

Thus, the days dragged on. Some were long and boring. Others, you purposefully kept yourself so busy that you weren’t able to think.

Today had been one of the slow days.

Apparently, it was the same for Uzui. His shoulders were hunched, and he was pushing out a lengthy exhale every minute or so as he ate.

“Your dramatics are making it hard to eat,” Shinazugawa grumbled next to you. “One gloomy bastard in the corner is enough, we don’t need another.”

Said gloomy bastard continued eating without looking up.

Uzui huffed and poked at the grilled eel on his plate. “I thought Rengoku was finally joining us.”

The dining hall paused. That simple sentence created a stillness in the Hashira, chopsticks poised mid-air and muscles tensed.

Confused by the lull, you spoke up awkwardly, “Still on his mission, huh? It’s definitely a long one.”

With that, the room came back to life, although it felt forced. Shinazugawa glared across the table. Toward the opposite end, someone quietly coughed.

But Uzui raised his brows at you. “He came back two ag-ow!” He yelped and rubbed his side. The side Makio was sitting on. She was staring at him with wide eyes. Slightly shaking her head side to side. Eyes flashing your way.

What the fu-“What?”

Uzui blanched and refused to meet your eyes. Shinazugawa cursed under his breath. Kocho pinched her lips together. Tomioka frowned at the table.

“What?” you asked again, impatiently waiting for an explanation. “He came back two weeks ago?” Only silence answered you. “Seriously? Nobody is going to elaborate?” Your chest became hot and your heart pounded. You abruptly stood.

Kanroji hesitated but asked, “Where are you going?”

“I think I should deliver Ubuyashiki’s meal. Excuse me.”

After hastily gathering the food in the kitchen and pointedly ignoring the Hashira when you came back out, you left the dining hall. You walked along the path and forced yourself to take steady breaths in through your nose. Your tongue poked at your inner cheek. Your fingernails scraped at the underside of the tray.

Two weeks. He’s been back for two weeks and everyone knew. They all knew and didn’t tell me. Why didn’t they tell me? Why didn’t he tell me?

You kept your stay at Ubuyashiki’s residence short; briefly describing the menu, asking if they needed anything, then bowing and exiting. Outside, you fisted your hands at your sides, looked up at the hazy colors filling the sky, and sucked in air through your teeth. The clouds were sluggish. Your heart rate was fast. Birds swooped up and down. Your chest rapidly followed a similar pattern. As you struggled to get your breathing under control, your feet were shifting to face the direction of Rengoku’s house.

Two weeks.

Your sandals stomped over the gravel and dirt.

Within minutes, you were in the genkan with your mouth open to announce your presence, but no sound came out. You were angry and nervous and scared, and you couldn’t think of what you should say. So, you raised your fist to knock on the inner door’s frame, but you stopped once more.

Two weeks.

Your hand dropped.

Two fucking weeks.

Your hand lifted again, this time going straight for the crack in the door. You slid it open, not bothering to verify whether it was okay for you to enter. To hell with etiquette.

Two weeks and I didn’t know.

It was dark inside, but that didn’t stop you from shuffling over the threshold and pulling the door closed. You squinted in the dim light and looked around the empty room. Softly, as if driven by eerie silence of the house, you called out to Rengoku while moving toward an opened fusama. You peeked into the next room and froze, suddenly feeling very cold. There he was, sleeping on the floor with his back propped up against a storage unit. You moved backwards, rubbed your eyes, and looked back in. He was still there. He was actually there. His chin was tilted toward his chest, causing his hair to fall forward. His sword was resting against his shoulder with his opposite hand keeping it close. A blanket was slipping off his top half and pooling around his torso.

You gawked for a bit. Your weight rocked forward, then back. Your throat grew tight, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You mentally counted to ten and gazed down at your feet. Another mental count to ten and a slow exhale. Another count to ten, and you entered the room to stride over to him. Part of you wanted to shake him awake, to scream, to demand why. Why were you left in the dark? Why did everyone else know? Why did he make you think you were close enough to know, too? But the rest of you was terrified. You didn’t want to know the answer, to know you weren’t as special to him as you’d thought, to know loud and clear that you weren’t an important piece in his life’s puzzle. Maybe you weren’t even a piece at all. That was something you weren’t ready to hear, so you resigned to wait until he woke up. You would ask then. You would ask and accept the answer when it came… but you wouldn’t speed up the process.

Blinking away the sting in your eyes, you noticed he was shivering, so you knelt and reached for the fallen blanket. All you wanted to do was tug it back up to his shoulders. All you wanted was for him to stop shivering. You’d never seen him do that before. He rarely got cold. Even though he apparently didn’t care much in regards to you, you couldn’t help but want him comfortable. He was an important piece in your life puzzle, after all. A big piece. But as soon as you added the slightest pressure on the fabric, there was a forward surge and a brief, shrill ringing of metal. You gasped, but the rest of your body went deathly still. Rengoku pressed his half-unsheathed blade against your skin and bared his teeth. The moment last for one… two… three heartbeats, then the glaze left his eyes and they widened. He eased back carefully, sheathed his sword, and settled against the storage unit with a wince.

“What are you doing here?” His knuckles turned white where they gripped the sword’s hilt. There was a thin scab on his eyelid.

Suppressing the urge to rub at your throat, you countered, “Are you… alright?”

I’m the one who gets threatened with a blade, yet I’m still asking if he’s okay…

“What are you doing here?” he repeated, sharper this time, almost desperate. He was breathing heavily as he rearranged the blanket over his lap.

The collar of his yukata robe had loosened, and there was something white underneath it. You eyed it while saying he had skipped dinner.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“But you never skip dinner.” When there was no response, you weakly added, “I didn’t even know you were back…”

“I didn’t want you to know.”

A pinprick of pained seared into your heart. Your mind went blank except for a single repeated phrase. He didn’t want me to know. He didn’t want me to know. He didn’t want-

“Wait that’s-” Rengoku tried to move closer but hissed and brought a hand to his middle.

At the same time, you scooted away and glanced at the door over your shoulder. “No, I… I get it.”

“No-I-We… We didn’t… Shit. We didn’t know if I was going to make it. I didn’t want you going through that.”

You looked down at his hand on his sternum, then to the white barely visible beneath his collar, and finally to his tense face. “What are you talking about?”

His mouth opened and closed several times before his turned his head away, tugging at his hair.

Silence. Silence. More silence. It was all you were getting tonight. Irritated, you pushed up from the floor.

“What are you…?”

You ignored him and went for the door.

“Sweets? Y/N?” His voice was a bit higher, a bit thicker.

You still ignored him

“Y/N, wait! Ple-ah, fuck.” His pained groan was muffled by the wall as you turned the corner.

With shaking hands, you left the house and marched back to the dining hall. You were seething in frustration. The world seemed to shrink and blur. Your feet staggered over the stones and roots on the path. Your teeth ground together. You growled at a branch that dared to be in your way. You pushed aside the dining hall’s door, fully prepared to glare at any Hashira that approached you but found the seats empty and the table cleared. Stalking to the kitchen, your lips pursed when you saw the dishes cleaned and drying. Turning toward the smoldering embers in the fire, you took an uneven breath.

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.

Repeating that mantra in your head, you sniffed and gathered a bowl and cup from the cupboard. Luckily, the miso soup you’d made earlier was still over the heat. You ladled it into the bowl and covered it. Then, you stoked the embers and made a pot of green tea. Everything was arranged on a tray. Steam curled out from under the lids, and you questioned your rational and sanity. The cup made you tap your nails on the counter. It was plain and cream-colored. After a moment’s hesitation, you sighed and switched it out for Rengoku’s preferred red one.

Picking up the tray, you exited the kitchen, closed the door to the dining hall, and made your way back to Rengoku’s house. You went at a slow pace. Nervous about spilling. Nervous about going back. Nervous about confronting him.

Too soon, you were in the genkan again. You steeled yourself and went inside. You found Rengoku in the same room you’d left him, still resting on the floor with his back against the storage unit, but his hands were hovering over his face. When he lifted his head, his hair was messier than before.

“You came back?” His voice was soft, shocked, timid.

“You skipped dinner,” you replied and lowered yourself across from him before you could psych yourself out. “I’m giving you another chance. If I don’t get an explanation after you eat, then I’ll leave and won’t bother you again… unless you’re, um, already done with me.”

“No!” he declared loudly, making you jolt. He leaned over and held your arms. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. Please don’t leave again.”

Nodding, you told him to eat before it all went cold. He moved back, gasping and holding a hand to his torso as his back collided with the unit. He looked at you, as if making sure you weren’t going away, then uncovered the bowl, raised it to his lips, and started gulping the soup down.

“Slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

Rengoku made a disagreeing noise as he continued to tip the bowl back. Some soup spilled from the corner of his mouth and trickled down his neck into the collar of his robe. The white was peeking out again. It was basically screaming at you to notice. It looked like bandages. Lightly biting down on your tongue, you poured him tea as a distraction. You were just setting the pot back down when Rengoku pulled the bowl away with a satisfied exhale. He returned the bowl to the tray while wiping at his mouth and neck. Then he noticed the filled teacup and smiled weirdly. You passed it to him.

He took a sip and cleared his throat. The smile fell. “Long story short, I got punched through the chest.”

You crossed your arms. “Okay, you got punched in the chest, I don’t se-”

“Though the chest.”

“Huh?”

“Through.”

It took a second to fully process. “Through?”

He hummed while taking another drink.

“Like-” You made an obscene gesture. “-through?”

He hummed again and pointed at his chest. Your gaze followed.

So, they really are bandages.

You swallowed, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “You… You’re going to be okay, right?”

“I’m going to be okay. Just need to take it easy for a while.”

Your feet flexed and your hands gripped the fabric by your thighs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His head ducked, hiding his face behind his hair. “I didn’t want you seeing me like this.” The butt of his sheath weakly banged against the floor and his shoulders hunched up. “It-I’m pathetic.”

You’d never seen him act like this. The Rengoku you knew was loud and bold, the epitome of confidence.

You took the cup from his hand, placed it on the tray, and slid the whole thing aside. You shuffled forward until you were seated next to him, leaning back against the unit as well. Carefully, you rested your head on his shoulder and gently placed your hand on his arm.

“You’re not pathetic,” you spoke quietly. Your thumb moved back and forth over his arm. “You’re really brave and strong. You’re insanely loyal to your friends and cause and do your best to make the world better. Sure, it was a dick move to not tell me you were back and injured, but you’re anything but pathetic. Your soul is too warm and bright to be that.”

“I really was an asshole to you. I’m sorry,” he said faintly before stiffening. “Are you going to leave?”

“No.” You heard his breath hitch and watched his fingers flex a few times before he turned his palm up. Understanding, you settled your hand in his. “Don’t keep stuff from me anymore,” you mumbled, echoing what he had told you before.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry-Shit­-M’not sorry. Well, I am, but you told me to stop, so I’m definitely going to s-” You squeezed his hand to keep him from spiraling. “-top. Right now.”

Your thumb resumed its back-and-forth movement, this time over Rengoku’s scarred and rough skin.

“Okay. Okay… Are we okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered honestly, huddling closer. “We’re okay.”

You started bringing meals to Rengoku’s house after that night. His meals and yours, since he demanded you eat with him.

Four nights into the new arrangement, he told you to call him by his given name.

Frogs croaked and leapt into the water as you walked by the pond. Nearby, a collection of furin created light chimes in the breeze, and you watched the tanzaku flutter while absentmindedly swinging the basket in your hands. The air was warm and sticky, and it would stay that even after the sun went down; hence was why it was odd that Kyojuro had requested you bring two blankets. You had no idea what he wanted to do or why he had so shyly asked you to find him after cleaning up dinner, but you had done as he instructed — packing two blankets into the basket as well as a handful of snacks you had lying around.

The tinkling music of the chimes faded and were replaced by organized shouts and clangs of weapons. Carefully walking through the training grounds, you made sure to stay out of the way as you searched for Kyojuro. You first checked the pagoda circle, but found it empty, so you simply began wandering around. After only a few minutes, a slayer waved for your attention and pointed, his mouth forming Kyojuro’s name. You smiled gratefully and followed his direction to a dojo. The doors were open, and you poked your head in. Sure enough, you saw your flash of yellow and red. Kyojuro was slowly sparring with Uzui, and Shinazugawa was observing them from the floor.

The dojo was filled with quiet scrapes and clinks of metal against metal, occassionally intermixed with low muttering. Keeping close to the wall, you skirted the sparring Hashira and went over to Shinazugawa, who was grumbling about their performances. He grunted to acknowledge your presence then went back to his commentary. Setting the basket down at your feet, you watched alongside him. Kyojuro and Uzui were moving fluidly, concentrating on each motion and breath. Each attack and counter Kyojuro made was steady and strong, and the sight had a pleasant warmth spreading throughout your body.

He was so much healthier now. The large wound had left a prominent scar on his chest, but it was healed. He’d been gradually regaining his muscle and stamina. He’d even gone on some missions recently, and they’d helped rebuild his confidence immensely. He was working so hard, and you knew he was going to surpass his previous level. He was going to burn even brighter than before.

When they were finally done and bowing toward each other, you lightly clapped.

Orange-red eyes shifted your way and softened. “As always, thanks for not interrupting, sweets.” Kyojuro pushed his hair out of his face and grinned while Uzui wrapped his cleavers.

“You looked good,” you said, sending Kyojuro a thumbs up.

And then he was absolutely beaming, his eyes squished and cheeks flushed.

“What about me, Y/N?” Uzui slinked over, pouting. “Didn’t I look good too?” He raised his arm to sling it over your shoulders, but you were tugged out of the way by your elbow.

Kyojuro tucked you against his side and stated that you didn’t want Uzui’s sweat all over you.

With an offended expression, Uzui crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “But your sweat is fine?”

“Yes.”

Uzui sputtered and Shinazugawa loudly sighed. You looked down at the Hashira on the floor and shrugged.

It’s not gross when it’s Kyojuro. Actually, it makes him even more a-

“You ready?”

You jumped at the voice right beside your ear.

“Going somewhere?” Uzui asked.

Kyojuro hummed in confirmation.

“Where?”

“Secret.”

Uzui stared at Kyojuro for a couple seconds before gazing at you expectantly.

“Don’t look at me,” you said while raising your hands. “He hasn’t told me anything either.”

Uzui squinted. “Suspicious.”

Instantly, Kyojuro bristled. “You think I’m going to hurt her?”

“Of course not.” Uzui laughed as he came forward to clap Kyojuro’s shoulder. “Just wondering if you’re finally manning up.”

“As if he would put us out of our misery so soon,” Shinazugawa mumbled.

Without warning, Kyojuro’s hand encased your own, his palm rough with callouses, and you were dragged away. “We’re leaving now,” he declared as he scooped up the basket and pulled you along behind him. You noticed his ears were tinged red. Over your shoulder, you shouted goodbye to Uzui and Shinazugawa, who watched your exit with perplexed yet amused expressions.

You let yourself be led out of the dojo and through the training grounds. Some confused looks were thrown your way as Kyojuro power-walked down that paths and past a gate. He finally stopped at the edge of the forest line but still held your hand firmly.

Bringing your connected hands up, you teased, “Scared I’m gonna get lost?”

His eyes flickered to your face briefly. “…Something like that.” He let go. “Sorry.”

Frowning at the loss, you quickly snatched his hand back and intertwined your fingers. “Don’t be. Your hand is warm. I like it.”

The arm holding the basket lifted slightly before falling back down, and Kyojuro cleared his throat. He jutted his chin toward the trees and said you were going in. There was no trail, markings, or signage, but he seemed to know where he was going. The two of you plunged into the forest, ducking under branches, stepping over protruding roots, and moving around dense thicket. The sky gradually became darker, and the thousands of trees began to block the remaining rays of sunlight, but Kyojuro trekked forward confidently.

Maybe thirty minutes had passed by the time the woodland opened to a small clearing. A few trees were dispersed throughout the open space, but it was mostly short grass and wildflowers, which rippled and trembled in the breeze.

“Almost there!” Kuojuro exclaimed while tugging you not further into the clearing, but toward a ravine on the side. You could hear a stream gurgling at the bottom as you neared the edge. He gripped your hand tightly as he helped you down the slope, the sound of the stream growing louder as you descended. When you safely reached the bottom, he gently swiped his forefinger under your chin and smiled, causing the light trickle of water to become a loud roar in your ears. “Almost there, I promise. You’re keeping up so well.”

The roar shifted into a ringing, and you turned to face the stream when you felt your cheeks burn. “I used to hike fairly often, you know. I’m not some noob.”

Kyojuro snorted and brought up how you’d previously made it clear you were used to different footwear. He motioned for you to walk again. The smooth rocks shifted beneath your sandals. The bugs clicked. There was a soft flash of light out of the corner of your eye.

You walked along the tiny stream for a little while, until it branched off to a cave opening. Kyojuro led you toward it. The mouth of the cave was just tall enough to sit comfortably and wide enough to fit a few people side by side. Kyojuro said to give him a moment and released your hand. There was another flash of light beside a plant. He unfolded a blanket and spread it over the driest patch of rock. A flash of light behind his arm as he gestured for you to sit. You plopped down, and he draped the other blanket over your shoulders. Light above the water. He sat down next to you, his knees touching your thigh.

It was fully dusk, the sun dipping below the horizon and the moon revealing itself behind the clouds. The steady psithurism of the foliage mingled with the excited flow of the stream. The occasional plunk of water dripping within the cave interlaced with the forest’s symphony. Then, slowly, as if spurred on by the sounds, more flashings of light appeared. Brief and scattered.

“Fireflies,” you whispered in realization.

They seemed to dance over the stream and between the leaves, twinkling and glowing. It was a serene beauty that left you both relaxed and in awe.

“I’m glad you like it,” Kyojuro said quietly while playing with a lock of his hair. “I come here a lot, especially in the summer. I feel like I can get away from the bad... um, memories.” He paused, resting a hand over his torso, before pressing his body closer to you. “And the cave is cool, which is a plus.”

It dawned on you then. It was his spot. He was willingly sharing his spot with you. You wrapped the blanket more tightly around you and hid your smile in the soft fabric. You watched the tiny, flashing lights in comfortable silence then looked at Kyojuro, who’s attention was already on you. “Thank you for showing me,” you murmured.

He tenderly pried your hand away from the blanket, linked your fingers with his, and balanced them atop his leg. “Thank you for staying with me,” he whispered back.

The sky eventually turned dark, and the cave was a cold presence at your back, but the world was filled with countless little specks of light and you had never felt more content.

“Would you put me down!? I can walk just fine!” You repeatedly smacked Kyojuro’s ass in protest, your legs kicking the air in front of his face. The air was cool on your skin and leaves crunched beneath Kyojuro’s sandals. He pointedly ignored you, besides giving your own ass a harsh poke, and continued carrying you over his shoulder. Accepting defeat, you whined his name and slumped limply. He stomped particularly hard on a crispy leaf, causing your head to thump against his back.

Huffing, he turned on the path leading to his house. “Can’t believe you stepped in a hole.”

“Hey! It was covered in leaves!”

He clicked his tongue. “Should I ban tag during autumn?”

“I will fight you.”

Kyojuro didn’t bother responding, but the silent judgement rolling off him was answer enough.

“It’s just a rolled ankle!” you cried out. “Don’t ban tag.”

He trailed his touch over your swelling ankle, making you squirm. “It’s dangerous when you can’t see the ground.”

Don’t talk to me about dangerous things. You glared at the passing dirt and leaves until your eyes unfocused and everything became a muddled blur.

Your focus returned when you reached Kyojuro’s genkan, and he removed both his and your sandals. He lugged you inside and somehow managed to set out a futon singlehandedly. He tenderly laid you down on the bedding and removed your sock. He prodded at your ankle, and pain shot up your leg. You pressed your lips together while he inspected both the injury and your reactions, then he nodded to himself.

“Good nod or bad nod?” you asked as he gently set your foot down.

“It’s not broken, just sprained,” he said, relieved, before walking out of the room. He returned with a bandage roll in hand and began skillfully wrapping it around your ankle. His brows furrowed as he concentrated, and he kept blowing his hair out of his eyes.

Cute.

“You should be watching how I do this, sweets.”

Your eyes widened and immediately moved to his hands on your ankle. Heart racing, you stammered out an apology, but your brain caught up a second later. “Shit-wait, it’s okay, I already know how to do this.”

He hummed in acknowledgment.

I wasn’t staring at you. “I-I was just thinking of how fun the trips to town are gonna be on this.” I totally wasn’t staring at you.

He barked out a laugh while securing the bandage. “You won’t know because you won’t be going to town on this.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “But I need to get ingredients…”

With a scoff, Kyojuro placed his hand on your forehead and shoved you back down. “You will not be going, and that’s final. Just tell me what you need.”

“But-”

“I will get what you need. I’ll drop it off at the kitchen. Then I’ll come get you, bring you to the kitchen, and you can sit pretty while telling me how to prepare everything.”

You got ready to protest again, but Kyojuro leaned in close. He filled your entire vision. Chin raised, eyes fiery, brow quirked. It was that look. The one that dared you to keep challenging him. Suppressing a shiver, you sighed and broke eye contact. He grinned. Crossing your arms, you told him to get you something to write on.

He poked your cheek then smoothed his knuckles down the same spot. “No pouting, sweets. It’s for your own good.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed his hand away, but you couldn’t stop the upwards tilt of your mouth. “Yeah yeah, be my willing slave for the day.”

Kyojuro winked before moving back so he could stand. You fake-gagged to hide how the simple action made your heart suddenly spasm. Ignoring your antics, Kyojuro strolled out of the room. You flopped an arm over your face once he was gone, telling yourself that you hadn’t been staring and that the warmth spreading throughout your body was solely from the futon and injury.

It’s definitely not because of that cute dummy.

The slim twig between your fingers tapped against the dirt. Your eyes scanned the bare trees surrounding the training circle, momentarily pausing on Kyojuro’s figure, before shifting up to the sky. A few minutes went by. You looked in the direction of the cemetery and checked the distance between you and the nearby pagodas. You gazed up at the lazy clouds. You tapped the twig faster.

“…on with you?”

Startled, you tore your gaze away from the sky. Kyojuro was squatting before you, sword secured to his belt and head tilted. You hadn’t realized he’d finished his forms.

“Huh?” You blinked.

“What’s going on with you?” He brushed some loose hairs out of your face. “You’ve been fidgety lately.”

The twig hung limply from your fingers, and you looked down at the impressions it had made in the ground. “It’s nothing, probably. Just overthinking some stuff.”

Kyojuro immediately brought his hand under your chin to lift your head back up. He was frowning and searching your face, but you kept quiet. Eventually, he reminded you of the promise to not keep things from each other.

Fuck. The twig snapped and fell to the ground in pieces.

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Your anxiety spiked. It had been swirling in your gut recently, and it was particularly bad that day. The dark clouds in the distance, the wind picking up, the faraway scent of damp earth — it was all making it worse.

He’s the only person who will understand, though. He knows the truth. I can tell him.

You gripped the cuff of his sleeve and revealed you’d been getting a bad, jittery feeling. It was reminiscent of how you had felt while hiking the day you’d been transported there. You’d been racing to beat the incoming storm, feeling rushed and unsettled — just like you were feeling recently. “It’s almost like whatever brought me here is coming back.” You glanced in the cemetery’s direction before turning back to Kyojuro and smiling halfheartedly. “I’m probably wrong, but I’m gonna give the cemetery a wide berth for a while, just in case.”

Kyojuro was quiet for some time until he finally asked, “But wouldn’t it be good for you to go back?”

Your stomach dropped. What does that mean?

Smile faltering, you joked, “What? Don’t want me around anymore?”

You watched him visibly hesitate before his hand fell away from your chin. “It would be better for you to go home.”

A sharp sting began unfurling in your chest. “This is my home,” you insisted while he stood and went to retrieve his haori.

“It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled. “You don’t belong here.”

His words were soft, but they pierced your ears. The sting in your chest blossomed, the pain’s razor-edged petals scratching and gouging as they opened. You physically recoiled, and the noisy hum of the world faded to a low buzz.

You don’t belong here. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong here.

“Not in a place like this,” he continued, his back still facing you as you rapidly blinked.

Don’t belong here. Don’t belong here. Don’t belong here. Don’t belong here.

Your throat grew tight. Your eyes felt prickly, and your vision bleared. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

You stared at Kyojuro, hoping to see him smiling… hoping to hear him say he meant something different.

All you got was his back.

A pathetic laugh escaped past your lips. You hastily gathered your things and stood. After one last, desperate look at Kyojuro’s back, you left the training circle.

He didn’t make any attempt to come after you.

The trees groaned and swayed as you trudged down the trail to town, their skeletal branches rattling against each other in the wind. You idly kicked at the stray rocks and fallen leaves in your way until the town’s lanterns were finally visible through the trees.

You weren’t in the mood to shop or work or be around people, but you were low on ingredients after numbly throwing together a kitchen sink dinner the previous night. Truthfully, you barely even remembered what you’d cooked. The entire afternoon and evening had gone by with a ghost of a smile plastered on your face and your body moving on autopilot. Your movements randomly switched between sluggish and frantic while Kyojuro’s words played on a mental loop. There were some vague memories of some Hashira looking concerned and asking if you were okay. Kyojuro hadn’t been one of them. He had ignored and avoided you as much as possible. That, you did remember.

Consequently, it shouldn’t have surprised you when he didn’t show up for breakfast.

Still hurts, though.

Banging your fist against your thigh, you forced yourself to stop thinking about it — about him — and focus on what you needed to buy.

“Alright, not too much or too heavy,” you told yourself. “You’re carrying it alone.” The trees thinned out and were replaced with buildings and throngs of people. You kept your head forward. You didn’t inspect the food stalls or admire the craftmanship of assorted handmade goods. “And don’t forget Shinazugawa’s damn ginger.”

The street was busy, but besides a couple shoulders checking with yours, you smoothly made your way through the crowd. Soon, the stall with pickled produce came into view, and you craned your head at the table while passing, catching the seller’s eye.

Four jars of ginger left. You would snag one on your way out of town; a lesson learned from a previous excursion involving shattered glass and spilled vinegar at the bottom of your bag.

Pressing on, you walked a little further to your usual vegetable seller. You picked up mushrooms, carrots, and cabbage, silently nodding your thanks after paying and placing the produce in your bag.

There’s enough flour in the cellar, so I can just make dumplings and broth tonight. Keep the hands busy but keep it simple.

Now for the fucking ginger.

You made your way back to the pickled produce stall, stopping shortly on the way to buy a bundle of persimmons. Hoisting the bag’s strap further up your shoulder, you zeroed in on the jars of pickled ginger… or where they should have been.

“No Rengoku with you today?” the seller asked as she wrung her hands.

“Not today,” you replied stiffly, scanning the table with a frown. “Ginger? I saw you had some when I passed earlier…”

“A-Ah, the ginger!” She laughed loudly and gestured to the people walking by. “Someone purchased the remaining jars, unfortunately.”

You cursed under your breath.

I know I have a little left, but I don’t know if it’s enough, and I don’t think I can put up with Shinazugawa’s yelling if it isn’t.

“B-But I think Shinei down the road might have some!”

That got your attention.

“He usually makes a lot for his family, so he may sell you a jar!” she explained quickly. “I can bring you to his house.”

Fuck, I just want to go home… but I really don’t want to get yelled at.

Adjusting the strap on your shoulder, you agreed and said you appreciated her help.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered before throwing a sheet over her table and securing it down.

“About the ginger? Don’t be, it’s good you’re making sales.”

The seller smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “This way.”

You followed closely as she led you out of the market and into the housing district. It was far enough that the crowd of people thinned out.

I should really learn how to make this shit on my own.

Turning the corner, you walked down a street split in half by sunlight and shade, and the seller pointed to a house shrouded in the shadows. She hastily opened the entrance gate then approached the genkan. You furrowed your brow at the unraked leaves covering the overgrown grass while you made your way behind her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again as she knelt and inched the door open.

Before you could ask why she was still apologizing, a flash of movement came from the doorway. Something small and shiny flew out of the open crack and over the seller’s head. There was a fleeting, minuscule sting in your arm. Then, all your muscles went numb and slackened. Your eyes closed, and you faintly registered your body collapsing. There was a heavy thud in your ears, but you only felt a tingle. None of your limbs would move, and only a trivial amount of oxygen would enter your lungs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You could hear the seller repeating the words in a thick, wet voice. Could hear her shift on the hardwood and shove the door all the way open. Could hear her start to drag you into the house.

“My my,” a stranger’s voice rasped out, “look at how well you’ve done.”

It was a strange feeling. To suddenly have overwhelming fear and rising panic… but to not feel your heart beating out of your chest.

I’m so fucked.

A strong tingle surged on the back of your head and your consciousness dropped into oblivion.

There was a light, consistent tapping sound. A scratchiness around your wrists and ankles. A tightness around your chest and arms. An ache weighing down your body. Groaning, you lifted your head and opened your eyes to a dimly lit room. The tapping noise stopped. You winced at the stuffiness behind your eyes and went to rub them… only to realize you couldn’t. Looking down, you saw rope wound around your upper body and ankles, securing you to a chair. You presumed it was the same with your hands behind you.

A chuckle drew your attention forward. A figure stepped out of the shadows, grinning, and you stiffened. They had large black eyes and slimy, mint-green skin. Fangs poked against their bottom lip and their veins were dark, visible streaks. Then, you noticed their hands. The mint-green of their skin transitioned to a murky black, and each long finger ended in a round, flat pad.

Demon.

They smoothly walked over and crouched before you. “Took you long enough to wake up. I didn’t hit you that hard.”

You leaned back as far as you could.

“No no no,” they cooed and pulled your chair closer. You could see yourself reflected in their big eyes. “No running. I’ve waited too long to catch you, so no running from me like that.”

With an unsteady inhale, you tried yanking your hands free even though you knew it would be hopeless. The room spun, and you shut your eyes with a grimace.

“Not feeling too good, huh? Don’t worry, that usually happens. But if you don’t want it getting worse, you should answer some questions for me.”

The rope dug into your skin as you twisted and tugged against it.

The floor lightly vibrated beneath your feet as the demon rapped on it with their knuckles. “When does Ubuyashiki leave the estate?”

You stopped moving.

A string of curses sprinted through your mind.

Your body started to tremble, but you pressed your lips together.

“Not going to answer?” The demon didn’t sound angry. Your eyes cracked open, and you shivered at how they seemed giddy. “Well, it’s never fun getting answers easily.” Suddenly, those long fingers were being waggled in your face. “Want to know a secret? Each finger secretes a different toxin.”

Breathing faster, you tried pulling your wrists out of the rope.

The demon held up their index finger and cocked their head. “What do you think this one does?” Heart pounding, you stretched your neck away from the finger, which caused the demon to jeer, “Aw, of course you wouldn’t know. Tell you what, if you answer my next question, you won’t have to find out.”

Shit. Fuck.

You sniffed and blinked quickly.

Don’t answer. Don’t answer. Don’t answer. You can’t answer.

“When do the guards at the gates switch?”

Stay calm. Stay calm. You’ll be okay. Stay calm. Don’t answer.

The demon waited a minute then reached into a pocket and took out some fabric. They pulled it across your mouth and tied it behind your head.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

Something wet and hot ran down your fingers.

It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.

“Looks like it’s time to find out,” the demon snickered and moved their index finger toward your face.

No… no, I don’t wanna find out. Please. Please, don’t touch me. I don’t want it! Fuck, Kyojuro, somebody, please!

The cool, slimy finger dragged down your cheek. Following the trail, your skin started burning. A searing heat flared up and spread across your face, down your neck, and to the rest of your body. Frantically, your eyes darted down, but you couldn’t see anything wrong. No fire. No smoke. But the burning sensation only got hotter and hotter and hotter, burrowing deep and overwhelming every other feeling. Your body jerked and strained against the ropes, trying to escape the unbearable heat. A scream clawed its way out of your throat, but it was muffled by the makeshift gag.

It lasted for several minutes. Nonexistant flames scorched your bone and sinew until the sensation gradually dissipated, although you were breathing heavily by the time it faded to a subtle warmth. You clenched and unclenched your hands to give yourself something to focus on.

But the demon wasted no time in asking their next question. “Who’s the weakest Hashira?”

Your hands curled into fists, and you shook your head.

Don’t answer. Don’t answer. My hands are wet. Must be blood. Don’t answer. The rope cut into my skin. Don’t answer.

“No response again?” The demon giggled. “A new finger, then!”

The demon’s thumb pressed under your chin. When it slid away, they informed you the toxin would take a moment to kick in.

I’m scared. I don’t want this. I’m scared. I don’t want this. I don’t want this. I don’t want this. I don’t-

You gasped as your heartbeat sped up. It was going too fast. Too fast. Too fast. Too fast. You gulped for air. Your hands felt cold, and your forehead beaded with sweat. Your throat became tight, and nausea settled in your stomach. Everything was hot and cold and fast and wrong. Quiet whimpers spilled from your lips, stuttering your breaths around the gag, and soon, you were hyperventilating.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you did your best to breathe normally. Your head throbbed, your heart pounded, your skin felt clammy, your body felt like it was vibrating.

In and out. In and out. In and out, you told yourself over and over. You started counting between the phrases. You eventually lost count somewhere after 300.

Each second felt like a minute, and time stretched on endlessly until your body finally relaxed. You opened your eyes and stared at your lap.

This sucks, you thought as the next question immediately came.

“What are their weaknesses?”

You tried to speak around the gag, but your words were incomprehensible. The demon made a surprised noise and untied the cloth. Steeling yourself, you titled your head back and looked at them straight on. “Fuck you.”

“She finally speaks!” The demon smirked, secured the gag once more, and walked behind you. A cold finger grazed your neck, and you slumped in the chair. Unable to move. Barely able to breathe. It was the same as before — a total loss of movement and control. “You’ll want to keep still for this next one,” they said in your ear.

There’s nothing to be scared of. There’s nothing to be scared of. It doesn’t hurt. There’s nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

It had gone completely silent. You didn’t hear where the demon had gone. You couldn’t see. You didn’t feel the rope around your body or where it had scored into your wrists. You were simply floating in a numb, dark world.

No sound. No sight. No feeling.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. There’s nothing.

Nothingness was swallowing you whole.

Why is there nothing? Last time, I could still hear. Why can’t I hear anything? What’s happening? Why is it not the same as last time!?

“-N! Y/N! Y/N!” Your shoulders were aggressively jostled, and your eyes flew open at the contact. Yellow and red replaced the blackness.

Your lower lip trembled, and you choked out Kyojuro’s name.

“I’m here sweets.” He smoothed hair out of your face and softly smiled. “Keep your eyes on me. Focus on me.”

“The demon,” you gasped out, gaze darting to the dark corners of the room.

“Hey hey. Focus on me, remember?” When your gaze returned to him, his tender smile shifted. “Good girl. I want to see your eyes when I kill you.”

You froze. “What?”

Stepping away, Kyojuro drew his sword and leveled it at the hollow of your throat. It glinted in the dim lighting, sharp and dangerous. Just like his wicked smile. Just like his eyes. They no longer held the warmth you were accustomed to. They were cruel.

His name tumbled from your mouth again, this time laced with fear and confused.

“You want to know something?” The tip of his sword pricked your skin. You involuntarily flinched from the coolness of the metal, from the sting of blood welling to the surface, from the detached tone of Kyojuro’s voice. He sneered. “I never believed you. I’ve always thought you were lying.”

Those words drilled into your heart, but the ache lasted only a moment before it was overtaken by something much more prominent and guttural. Kyojuro pushed his sword forward, and slowly, the blade entered your body… he hummed as your eyes went wide and grew glossy… and then it was cleanly extracted with a sickening noise. Blood poured out of the fresh incision in your neck and splashed onto your chest, coating your yukata crimson. It filled your mouth and dribbled past your lips. Kyojuro watched in fascination as your body shook and futilely tried to suck in oxygen. Watched as you drowned in your own blood and jerked in the chair. Your vision turned black at the edges, and it grew darker and darker with each faint, passing heartbeat.

The last thing you saw was an unsettling grin.

Darkness consumed your world yet again… but the pain faded, the blood in your mouth vanished, and your airways cleared. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t see, but it didn’t hurt anymore. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Close by, you heard muffled giggles and feet shuffling over the floor.

I’m… okay? I’m okay? Okay… Okay… I’m okay.

Can’t move… can barely breathe… but I’m okay. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

“Did you see something good?” the demon asked curiously before sighing. “Right, you’re still paralyzed. It always lasts for so long. Well, might as well keep going while you can’t scream.”

Your collarbone ignited in blazing heat. The fire swept over your body, and you were forced to endure it motionlessly. You writhed inside your mind, imagining breaking free of the ropes and getting away from the burning sensation. But, of course, your body stayed utterly still.

“Oh! We finally have tears!”

You were crying? You couldn’t feel it.

After some time, the fire began dying. It was at a smoldering heat when you were finally able to feel your body again. You felt beads of sweat rolling down your neck, the rope tied around you, the steady pain in your wrists. Your eyes cracked open, and you breathed in unsteadily.

“How is a Hashira chosen for a mission?”

A self-deprecating laugh was suppressed by the gag. It’s never going to end, is it?

A slimy finger trailed over your nape.

Your heart started racing.

Another finger.

The fire was rekindled.

Your head hung limply. You were exhausted.

How long has it been?

The dim room hadn’t gained or lost any light. You didn’t think there was a window. You didn’t have the energy to look.

The process never stopped. Question. Toxin. Question. Toxin. An insult spat through the gag. Toxin. Question. Toxin. Insult. Toxin. Over and over and over and over.

It never fucking stops.

The worst were the hallucinations. Thinking you’d escaped. Thinking it was all a dream. Thinking you’d been rescued. Thinking he was there. Every single time it hurt, either a sword tearing into your body or words gripping your heart and squeezing until you felt broken.

You shivered. Your clothes were sweaty, but your body was freezing.

I want to go home. I just want to go home. Please let me go home.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the demon pace in the shadows while mumbling to themselves. “Should I just rot her? Dump her body at the gate?” You flinched. “Would Muzan approve of that? He might…

“No. No. It’s too soon. I can try to break her for a few more days.”

You weakly tugged at the ropes, gritting your teeth as the fibers clawed into your raw flesh.

“Move. We need to move. Get further away so I have more time.” The demon came toward you, and you tried to scoot the chair away.

No no no no no. Don’t take me away. Don’t knock me out again. Please please, Kyojuro, please don’t let them take me.

Their hand reached out. You thrashed in the chair. The wood creaked and groaned. Your heart raced. Those slimy fingers came closer.

Closer...

Closer…

Closer. Closer. Closer.

BANG!

In your peripherals, a door was thrown open to reveal two silhouettes. There was a split-second pause, then the demon snarled. One of the silhouettes surged forward in a blur of yellow, red, and white. You stiffened as a sword whistled through the air.

A lump lodged in your throat. Another hallucination. You laughed humorlessly. I didn’t think I was under.

The other silhouette rushed over to you, cursing loudly.

Shinazugawa? Well, that’s new…

You barely registered the gag being removed and the ropes being cut as you watched Kyojuro kick the demon through the wall. He was gone just as fast, disappearing through the hole.

Faintly, you heard Shinazugawa’s voice. You blinked at him.

“Shit. Fuck,” he hissed before sliding his hands under your knees and hoisting you up. “Let’s go.”

He carried you out of the room. Shouts and sounds of breaking wood echoed through the hallway.

Will it be Shinazugawa’s sword this time?

“You… You should go help him. Help Kyojuro.”

“Shut up.”

Shinazugawa brought you outside, and you gasped when the night air hit your hot, sticky skin. He walked past the gate, then stopped. The moon was bright. There was a steady breeze.

You could still hear the fight.

Even if it’s not real, I don’t want him getting hurt.

“Put me down and go-”

“He doesn’t need any fucking help.” He gave you a serious look. “Trust me. And he’d kill me next if I left your ass alone.”

Suddenly, there was a disturbance in the air and a body lightly landed on its feet a few feet away. You recoiled and burrowed into Shinazugawa’s chest, clutching at his uniform.

Pathetic. Seeking comfort when in know he’ll end me soon.

“Y/N!”

A voice you recognized.

You peeked. It was Uzui.

This one is really pulling out all the stops, huh? Getting the whole gang together.

“The other location was empty, so I came here-shit, your wrists…” Uzui zeroed in on where you were desperately holding onto Shinazugawa’s uniform.

Glancing down, you took in the bloody mess of your wrists.

Uzui started unwrapping his blades. Your heart thudded. Your gaze lifted to the stars. You held your breath and waited for the sharp edges of his twin cleavers to slice into you.

Will he go for the neck? The gut?

A gentle touch on your arm made you jump. Tentatively, you looked down and realized Uzui was wrapping his swords’ bandages around your wrists.

Your brows furrowed. “Why are you doing that?”

Both Hashira mirrored your own confusion. A scream ripped into the night sky. Goosebumps raised along your skin but neither of them so much as glanced toward the house. The scream was cut off.

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” Your voice was quiet as you stared at the sharp blades. “It’s you guys this time, right? Not Kyojuro.”

An “Excuse me?” and “What the fuck?” came simultaneously, their confusion morphing into horror and concern.

Your mouth opened and closed.

Why won’t they just do it?

Do it so I can wake up already.

I want to wake up. I want to wake up. I don’t want him to kill me again. It won’t hurt as much if it’s you guys, maybe.

Your name rang into the night sky.

A chill took over as Kyojuro began shouting for you from inside the house, making you fist the fabric of Shinazugawa’s uniform.

I don’t want to see him. I hope he’s okay. I don’t want him near me. I don’t want him to kill me. I miss him.

“We’re outside by the gate, idiot!” Shinazugawa hollered over your head.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re safe now,” Uzui reassured you. “Rengoku’s finished. He’s coming out. You’re safe.”

Your heart sank. Your stomach churned.

I guess it will be him again, in the end.

I don’t want to d-

All thoughts came to a halt as you were suddenly transferred to another pair of arms. The colors of fire were all you saw, but you didn’t feel any pain burning through your veins. It was gentle, soothing, warm. A thumb swept over your cheek, but it was scarred and calloused, not cold nor slimy. Kyojuro gathered you in his arms, softly crushing your body against his.

Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me. “Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me.”

“Shh… Shhh… I’m not going to hurt you, sweets. I’ve got you. Don’t cry.” He carefully cradled the back of your head. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Holding back a sob, you pressed your forehead to his chest.

Please be real. Please be real. Don’t ask me to look at you.

“Shh, just close your eyes and rest. You’re safe.”

His heartbeat was a steady constant in your ear. He made no move to unsheathe his sword. He continued murmuring comforts as he started walking, his voice calm and familiar. Your eyelids grew heavy at the gentle sway of his steps, and your breaths gradually evened out.

“You did so well, sweets. It’s all over now. I’m not going to let anything else hurt you.”

It’s… over…?

The thought smothered any fight you had left. Utterly drained, you gave in to your fatigue and allowed your eyes to slip shut, and within moments, you sank back into a world of darkness.

Everything was soft and warm, just like a cocoon. You nuzzled further into the softness and felt your consciousness already drifting away again.

Until you felt pressure on your upper arms.

Fear shot through you. Your eyes flew open while your torso tried to rise. Your movements were blocked. Your heartrate increased, and your gaze frantically took in your surroundings. The lighting was dim. You didn’t recognize anything.

“Hey hey hey.” Someone moved into your line of sight. Kyojuro. A few seconds later, you realized it was his hands on your arms. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Where?” you gasped out.

“My house. My room. You fell asleep,” he explained quickly yet calmly.

Eyes finally adjusting, you first confirmed it wasn’t the same room the demon had kept you in. Next, you noted you were half tucked into a futon, a yogi pulled up to your waist. You stared at the bedding then at Kyojuro, studying his expression. There was no hint of violence or malice. Your throat felt scratchy as you swallowed and reluctantly asked, “Is this real? Are you real?”

“That demon will never hurt you again. Can’t ever hurt you again. I promise.”

“Are. You. Real?” you asked again through gritted teeth, eyes flashing down to his waist. His sword wasn’t there, which made you waver, but then you scoffed. “Shit, how can I even tell?”

“I’m real.”

You rejected it. “I can’t trust that. Not after…” Not after thinking it was real so many times.

Huddling down, you wished the futon and comforter would protect you.

“A question!” he blurted out while surging forward, making you flinch and burrow deeper. Seeing your reaction, he moved back and switched to a softer volume. “Ask me a question! Something you know the answer to but have never told me and I would have no way of knowing.”

You mulled it over.

“If I wasn’t real, I would know the answer,” he added.

Since you’d be in my head.

The idea made sense… but you tightly gripped the yogi and shook your head the tiniest amount. “You could just lie.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“But you could.”

You both fell into silence. Kyojuro shifted and tugged at his hair. You tracked his movements. The way he fiddled with his hair tie. The way his brows pulled together thoughtfully. It was all familiar. It was all the Kyojuro you knew.

Then he perked back up, his eyes brightening. “Someone I met a while back had really vivid dreams. They happened so often he did daily checks to know if he was dreaming or not.”

After a moment’s hesitation, you asked him what kind of checks.

“One of them was pressing a finger to his palm. If he was dreaming, his finger would go through.”

I think I’ve read about that before. Vague memories of researching lucid dreaming passed through your mind. I didn’t even think of doing one. Not that I really could when I was tied to a chair.

Do the hallucinations even count as dreams?

Exhaling, you raised your hands above your face. You noticed the bandages around your wrists were fresh. They still hurt, but it was duller now – practically a background pain.

You poised your index finger in front of your other palm.

I guess this is the best I can do. Please be real.

With a deep breath, you drove your finger forward until it hit flesh. You asked if he was real again.

“Real.”

Pressing your lips together, you felt your eyes go watery and only a heartbeat later, a tear leaked out. “Well-” your voice was wobbly “-Thank fuck for that.”

Before the tear could trail into your hair, Kyojuro wiped it away. He softly agreed with you then told you to get some rest. “We can do another check when you wake up, if you’d like.”

After you timidly nodded, he caressed your cheek one more time before pulling away. You immediately felt his lack of presence like a lack of warmth. A lack of protection. You frowned as he went to stand, and you whispered his name without thinking. He stopped, prompting you to stammer out, “Um, I know the demon is gone and everything, but…” You rubbed at the edge of the bandage. “But could you maybe stay? With me?”

He looked down at you, surprised, but whispered back, “If you want me here, then I’ll stay here.”

You simply extended your hand out to him.

Wordlessly, Kyojuro returned to his previous position beside you. He accepted your hand and intertwined your fingers. You felt his calloused thumb tenderly move back and forth over your skin. Your chest began to rise and fall with the slow, consistent motion and your eyes drowsily closed.

Faintly, you heard Kyojuro mumble something, but it was only a soothing sound as the lull of sleep dragged you under the dark waves yet again.

The sun served as your alarm in the morning, beckoning you awake with its soft light. Breathing in, you slowly came to your senses. Warmth was enveloping your torso and legs. A dull pain was in your head and your mouth was dry.

There was a slight throbbing in your wrists.

Your arm was extended to the side and pressure surrounded your hand.

Body tensing, your head darted to the side. The action spiked the pain in your forehead, causing you to scowl, but your muscles relaxed when you saw Kyojuro holding your hand. His eyes were shut, and his chest was rising and falling slowly.

Asleep. You took in the room. I’m at his house. The demon is gone. I’m awake.

…Right?

Biting back your frustration, you tried to get out of Kyojuro’s grasp, but his hold became stronger. His mouth downturned and his eyes blinked open. “What are you… doing?” he asked sleepily.

You tried pulling away again. Your heartrate was beginning to speed up.

“Y/N?” He rubbed at his eyes; his voice was rough from sleep.

Your heart skipped at the raspy call of your name, but you pushed the fluttery feeling down. “I need to check,” you gasped out.

I need to check. I need to know. I need to know.

His fingers loosened, and you yanked your hand free to cradle it against your chest. You took two deep breaths then raised both hands over your face. Two more breaths, and you jammed your finger into your opposite palm. It didn’t pass through.

You looked at Kyojuro, who was silently watching, and asked, “Real?”

He nodded. “Real.”

You let your hands drop. “Okay.”

The two of you simply looked at each other. Your heart thumped loudly, and you squirmed under the weight of his tender gaze.

Why is he just staring? He can’t stare at me like that. It shouldn’t be allowed.

All of the sudden, Kyojuro broke eye contact and fiddled with the tie holding his hair back. He stood up, saying that you needed to eat. “I’ll find you some food. Please come out when you’re ready.”

He left the room, and your mind swirled to keep up with his quick departure. Sighing, you shifted into a sitting position and massaged your temples as the yogi pooled around your waist. Staring down at your lap, it took a few moments to realize you didn’t recognize the kimono robe you were wearing. It wasn’t yours. It was soft orange and didn’t fit properly. You paused, questioning how you hadn’t noticed it sooner, but ultimately, you blamed your exhaustion and panic-riddled brain. Next, you pushed the sleeve back to inspect your bandaged wrist and saw your skin was completely clean. Not a trace of blood, grime, or sweat. You checked your legs. Clean. Peeked inside the robe. Clean… and no undergarments.

Did he…? No, surely not… But there’s nobody else in this house… And I think the robe is his…

A surge of heat swarmed your cheeks, and you pressed the too big sleeves to your face. You breathed in deeply through the fabric, feeling your heart hammering both in your chest and head.

Eventually, your heart settled, and you forced yourself to get up. The room spun as you shuffled to the door, your feet heavy and body sore. Outside the room, you waddled down the hallway until you reached a door left half open. Through the opening, you saw Kyojuro kneeling before a table, arranging various senbei and manju on a tray. The sight of snacks made you aware of the emptiness in your stomach while the man himself had you hyperaware of the fact you were likely wearing his clothes… with nothing underneath.

Gingerly, you rapped your knuckles on the door’s frame before announcing your presence. Your fingers ran along the edges of a bandage as he looked up. His eyes dropped to your wrists as you stepped into the room.

“You know,” he said, his hand forming a fist atop the table, “that’s why you need to go back.”

Your steps slowed, and your head tilted to the side in confusion… then it hit you. The pagoda circle. The anxiety about the incoming storm. Being told you didn’t belong. The memories came rushing back, and you came to a halt, remembering it all. Remembering he thought you shouldn’t be there — thought you should leave.

And I’ve been… You flushed, thinking of how you’d been acting. Like an idiot. Like it isn’t just me. Like we’re both in-

“It’s not safe for you here, especially being connected to m-to the Hashira.”

Not safe… for me…?

Your face grew hot, embarrassment changing to anger. Your nails scratched at the robe. “It’s not safe for me? For me?” You laughed in disbelief. “You can’t say shit about safety. Not when you’re the one fighting literal demons and getting fucking skewered by them!”

Kyojuro practically hissed out, “It’s why that demon took you! To get intel!”

“I didn’t tell them anything!”

“And that’s what got you hurt!”

You scoffed. “Did you want me t-You know what? I’m not doing this.” You took a small step backward before fully pivoting to leave.

You heard Kyojuro scramble to his feet. “Will you just-Stop! You need to rest!” He grabbed the back of your robe.

Does he want me to leave or not? What bullshit.

Turning, you pushed him away. “You stop. Please. Just stop acting like you care so much.” His bright eyes flashed wide. The room spun, your head pounded, your body ached, your heart hurt. “Thank you, genuinely, for saving me, but you’ve made it clear you don’t want me around. You didn’t save me because you actually care, you just didn’t want the guilt of my death since you were the one in charge of watchi-”

“You think I don’t care?” he interrupted, his voice faltering. “How could you… It has nothing to do with guilt. I didn’t-I don’t want you to die!”

You raised your chin and tried to ignore the growing lump in your throat. “Right. Because you want to save the world and everyone on it.”

He hesitated, briefly looking away and tugging at his hair tie. “Because…” He squared his shoulders before giving you a small, nervous smile. “It’s because I love you. I’m in love with you and I really really care about you.”

All the air in your lungs was squeezed out. “But… But you want me to leave. You said I don’t belong here. I don’t… what?”

“I want you to be safe.” His smile fell, and his head lowered so his fiery hair hid his face. “You’re connected to the Corps, which makes you a target, so I thought… I thought encouraging you to leave would be best.”

“Well, your encouragement sucks and I still got kidnapped.”

He doesn’t hate me.

He gave a tiny nod.

“I thought we weren’t going to keep things from each other?”

He loves me.

He nodded again.

“It was a fucked-up thing to do, you know that right? Like really fucked-up.”

He’s in love with me.

“I know-fuck-I know.”

Your heart was racing, but you couldn’t tell from which emotion anymore.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said quietly.

Your weight shifted from foot to foot, and you were silent for a long time. Your hand rubbed up and down your arm, feeling the smooth fabric of the robe and the outline of the bandage underneath it. Finally, you sighed. “This is the second time. If you ever pull this shit again, I’m done. Got it? Three strike maximum.”

Kyojuro’s head whipped up, shock painting his features. “You’re actually…? Yes. Yes, I understand. You’re giving me one last chance. I won’t mess it up, I promise.”

Tentatively, you let the back of your hand knock into his. “You’re not fully forgiven yet, okay?”

His index finger gently looped around yours. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice cracking lightly, before he cleared his throat. “Okay. Whatever you need of me, just… just let me know.”

Your heart was beating fast. Your body felt so warm. Your skin tingled where you were touching him, and you wanted to feel those shivers everywhere else. You leaned in closer. His breath hitched.

“Kiss me,” you told him plainly.

He gaped, his pupils dilating and the tips of his ears burning red. His mouth parted, but otherwise, he didn’t move a muscle, so you placed your hand on the back of his neck and guided him toward you. The first touch of your lips was a mere graze, but you quickly reconnected again. Everything else faded out, and you relaxed into the softness of his lips and the quiet, low moan that came tumbling past them.

You pulled back a bit, moving further away and grinning when he chased after you. Playing with the hair at his nape, you ghosted your lips over his one more time before whispering, “I’m in love with you too, dummy.”

Kyojuro sharply inhaled through his nose. The world seemed to go still for a moment… then he crushed his mouth against yours. His hands cradled your face and tilted your head to the side as he kissed you deeply. Groaning into your mouth, his tongue teased your bottom lip. “Say it again,” he murmured between kisses. However, a hum was the only response you were capable of when he proceeded to softly bite down on your lip. His fingers trailed down your neck, his thumb delicately tracing the center of your throat, before moving back up. He loosely grabbed your jaw and forced you to look him in the eye. “Say it.”

Your legs went weak, and you gripped his wrist to ground yourself. After three shallow breaths, your mind was able to regain some clarity. “I’m in love with you.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Again.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck, sweets.” He dragged you back into a kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair. His arm snuck around your waist, holding you up and against him. Your body pressed into his. He swiped his tongue across the seam of your mouth then left featherlight kisses along your jaw.

After some time, Kyojuro placed both hands on your hips to keep you in place while he stepped back. He was flushed and breathing hard, his lips swollen lips and eyes half-lidded eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” You hooked a finger in the belt of his robe and tried to tug him back in.

He shook his head. “If we don’t stop now, we won’t be stopping for a long while.”

“Don’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

“You need rest, sweets.” He brushed stray hairs out of your face then readjusted your robe where it had slipped off your shoulder without your knowledge. “And you won’t be getting any if I see more than I should right now.”

You huffed despite the warmth spreading across your chest. “But you’ve already seen me naked! Thanks, by the way, for the robe and for cleaning me up.”

Kyojuro coughed and ran a hand through his hair. “It, um, wasn’t me… Uzui’s wives cleaned you up and got you changed. I just supplied the robe.”

Oh… Well, I’ll have to thank them later. But at least I was right about one thing.

“So, it is yours.” You smirked and lifted your arms to spin. “How’s it loo-” Your legs abruptly gave out, but Kyojuro caught you before you could fall.

“It looks amazing on you. Never take it off.” He spoke right in your ear, sending a toe-curling shudder down your spine. Lifting you up, he carried you over to the table. He placed you on the tatami delicately, which made you roll your eyes, but then he shoved a rice cracker in your mouth. You sputtered and shot him a glare, yet he only crossed his arms and ordered you to eat.

“Not even a please,” you muttered but followed his order anyway. Once you had crammed enough into your stomach, you sighed and rested your head atop your arms on the table. You met Kyojuro’s eyes.

His hands fidgeted in his lap. “I know mutual feelings and-” he coughed “-kissing doesn’t automatically fix everything, so if you need time or space or anything, I’ll give you whatever you need.”

You stretched an arm out to him. “I don’t want to be away from you, so just make sure I know you want me. No more of this pushing me away to save me bullshit.”

“I’ll do that.” His hand covered yours. “I want you right here next to me. I’ll show you, prove to you, make you believe that without a doubt.”

“I look forward to it,” you replied with a tired smile that soon turned into a yawn. You were exhausted on all fronts, but you made no move to leave and neither did Kyojuro. He absentmindedly played with your fingers. You sat in content and watched him do so. The tatami was soft beneath your legs, a loud bird chirped somewhere outside, there were some crumbs scattered on the table, and each delicate touch of his fingertips had you feeling like everything was finally right. That everything was going to be okay. “Hey, Kyojuro?”

He hummed questioningly, now drawing random shapes and lines on the back of your hand.

“I love you.”

His motions stilled then he was grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. He pressed a gently kiss to your palm and beamed, his eyes squishing closed. “I love you too. I really really do.” He kissed your fingertips next while pushing the plate of snacks closer to you with his free hand. “Now eat one more so I can bring you back to bed.”

“Geez, don’t say it like that. Gonna get my hopes up and shit.”

“Want me to stay beside you again?”

Lifting your head from the table, you grunted in confirmation while reaching for a manju. “But this time, I want cuddles too.”

His finger spasmed over your skin. “…Cuddles?”

Your “Yes, is that okay?” was muffled by the steamed cake in your mouth.

Kyojuro consented eagerly, explaining he just wasn’t expecting it. He patiently waited for you to finish your final snack, but immediately moved closer when you were done to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you against him. He nuzzled at your temple, his lips grazing your cheekbone, then scooped you up. “Let’s get you those cuddles, sweets.”

The sun was a hazy, distant aura through the window. You finished chopping the ginger and pulled down two cups from the cabinet — one red, just like always. Your mornings were a stable routine. Prep. Sunrise. Tea in a red cup. Kyojuro stealing a taste, usually of the food. And a reality check. Every single morning, without fail, right when you woke up.

“Tea time?” Kyojuro’s head poked past the noren.

You gestured to the now-filled cups with flourish, prompting Kyojuro to fully enter the kitchen with a grin. He pecked your cheek on his way to his designated corner. You breathed in the earthy scent of the tea and relaxed against the counter.

It was going to be a good day.

Some days weren’t. Some days, you constantly pressed your thumb into your palm and got jumpy around swords. Some days, Kyojuro rested his hand over his torso and spaced out for long periods of time. Some days, one of the Hashira would sit, silent and sluggish, and you knew their mission had been rough. Not every day was a good one, and you knew the future would only bring more pain and wounds.

But most days were good, like today. The anxiety you’d associated with getting transported there wasn’t lingering in your mind. You’d heard Kanroji safely returned from her mission last night. You had three jars cleaned and ready to experiment with pickling your own vegetables. Your kitchen was heated and fragrant, a comfortable haven from the early winter chill. The day was off to a good start.

Cradling your tea in both hands, you went over to Kyojuro and nestled against his side. He threw an arm over your shoulders and hummed contentedly. Through the kitchen’s dinky window, you watched the sun rise over the mountain tops. The bare trees shook in the wind, the pot of dashi started to boil over the fire, and your entire body felt pleasantly warm. Kyojuro kissed the top of your head, and you glanced up to see his face relaxed and the light of the sunrise reflected in his eyes.

It was going to be a good day.

#rengoku #rengoku x you #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kny x y/n #kny fluff #kny angst #demon slayer rengoku #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer fluff #demon slayer #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku angst #rengoku fluff

[shytastemakerthing]

Milo intro&bio

Born from an American merchant father and a French mother, Milo (born Myla Covetton) Archer came to Japan as a small child along with her parents, settling into a small port side village. Much of her childhood, Milo spent her time indoors, preferring reading and engaging in artistry. Most of this was due to her reclusive nature, but also due to her unnaturally sharp teeth, which she kept covered while outside of her family's home.

When Milo was approximately eleven years of age, on a journey for her mother into the local markets to gather necessities for their meal that night, a group of running passerby's had knocked Milo to the ground and thus, also pulling her wrappings loose. Despite it currently being daylight out, or even the reasoning could be that they were currently in a shaded area, when her teeth were seen, she heard the screams of 'demon' then people beginning to flee from her and others opting to raise up weapons.

Out of fear, Milo took to running. As a child, Milo had been curious about her own teeth, why they had grown the way that they had, in sharp double rows. She had just been told by her parents that she was just different, special. But after hearing the cries of the village-folk, she had begun to believe what was spoken of in those cries.

As night fell, Milo opted not to return home, in the fear that something would happen to her family should she be found there. Walking for as long as she could remember, exhaustion began to overtake the small girl, and she would settle into the mossy ground surrounded by a number of trees.

When she would wake once more, Milo was quick to see that she was not in the place that she had fallen asleep, a scent of wisteria filling the room. She had been found by a passing mizunoto and brought within the Butterfly Mansion.

Here, Milo would lie of her origins, her name, her family, where she had come from, giving them the name of Milo, not Myla, not remembering where she came from, or even her family, in the hopes of keeping them safe.

While there were others there fro a brief time to thought her to be a demon as well, simply due to the nature of her teeth, it was quickly refuted when it was stated that the Mizunoto found her laying out in the sun as it had started rising, and she was unharmed, thus debunking the statement.

The Butterfly Mansion is where Milo would continue to grow up, quickly adapting to the training that was held, hearing the tales of the demons that spread through the land, what they were doing, and what they were capable of. While struggling at first, Milo was rather swift in picking up key components with her training, even adapting a brand new breathing style, Star Breathing, and working to develop and strengthen the several forms that came along with it.

To this day, Milo still prefers to keep her unnatural features concealed through wrappings or a simple mask. While being more closed off, Milo holds a friendly disposition, and is gentle in her words and actions, others stating that her fighting style holds a certain grace and elegance to it.

There have been many times where she has thought about the family that she left behind, but still believes to this day that it was all better this way.

#demon slayer #kny #demon slayer oc #oc info #kimetsu no yaiba oc

[capobegone]

Why Ufotable Should Animate the Rengoku Gaiden in S3

Okay, man, okay. Hear me out. 

I know what you’re thinking: “But Capo, you’re only saying that because Kyojuro is your favorite and you’re desperate for more content!” Which, fair enough. But you know who else I love? Mitsuri. And I wholeheartedly believe that the Rengoku Gaiden sets up for her bubbly character by displaying her struggle to develop her own breathing form and accept her own strength and appearance.

Here’s why: The very first panel we see of Mitsuri in the swordsmith village, her own arc, is of her naked in the hot tub. (Which, as a massive lesbian, is a win.) However, all of the other leading pillars (Kyojuro, Tengen, and Muichiro) had introductions in their main arcs that immediately showcased their respective personalities, whereas Mitsuri’s focuses solely on her body.

I do believe that Mitsuri’s pride in her femininity and sexuality is refreshing and empowering to see! However, it’s important to show that this is in fact something that she worked hard to achieve and not just a fanservice tactic. And that is where the Rengoku Gaiden comes in.

In the manga itself, it’s pretty much unmentioned that Mitsuri trained under Kyojuro. She refers to him as a cool big brother (so cute!!), but that’s the end of that. However, the Gaiden digs into their relationship and the influence that he truly had on her. There is a scene where Mitsuri is ridiculed for her strange hair, and becomes very self conscious about her looks. In swoops Kyojuro, who assures her that her hair is nothing to be worried about, while throwing in a joke about his own unusual appearance. And then, he tells her this:

BRO. THEY ARE BESTIES. I’M DYING.

Anyway, it’s pretty clear that the Gaiden gave us a much-appreciated look into her hard work on her journey to self love (which is very relatable for many of us!). However, it also gave us an essential demonstration of Mitsuri Lore: Love Breathing!

In the Gaiden, Mitsuri has not yet developed her own breathing style, and struggles to adapt to the heavy style of Flame Breathing. Therefore, as the battle goes on, she develops her own style IN REAL TIME. What an absolute badass. This shows that she is actually quite clever, and very much worthy of her status as a Demon Slayer. Even though she is only a Mizunoto at the time, she is already displaying what will eventually become Pillar-level thinking and response to situations. Holy shit, I want to see this animated so badly. It perfectly portrays her struggle and shows that she can use her loving heart and gentleness as a strength in its own right! Amazing scene, beautiful character development, we love to see it.

And, of course, she and Kyojuro have a omg-we-did-it embrace at the end while the Kakushi freak out about his injuries. Cutest shit I’ve ever seen. If this scene was animated, I would cry forever.

Anyway. Is it at all likely that it will get animated? Probably not. But I swear, the mix of Mitsuri’s individual strength and her sisterly relationship with Kyojuro is just so good, and I think it would be a huge service to her character if we got to see at least a few scenes from it!!

(If not, I’m still holding out hope that they’ll do the Rengoku Gaiden, Giyuu Gaiden, and maybe more Kimetsu Academy as OVAs! Please Ufotable, feed us more crumbs of our scrunklies!!)

#kanroji mitsuri #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny manga #uzui tengen #muichiro tokito #swordsmith village arc #kny season 3 #love breathing

[helloescapist]

Averted Eyes

Word Count: 2152

Setting: Shinazugawa Sanemi x gn!reader; SFW; short

Content Warnings: mentions of nonconsensual groping [not by Sanemi], gaslighting, language

Summary: a recent victim of Masao Maeda's uniform repairs, you had longed to see Sanemi once again, but not like this.

[not my art, credit goes to the artist!]

Eyes trained to the floor, doing your best to ignore the murmurs of those you passed. Shame clear on your features, head bowed to the point that your chin dipped to your collar bone.

Doing your best to fight back the tears that threatened to spill at a moment’s notice. Your hands glued to your hem, tugging urgently despite knowing that it would in fact… not budge. You could feel the blush tint your cheeks, burn at your ears, and the sob scour your throat as you fought it back. Long hallways ebbed in wood, carefully articulated furniture, wealth barely over looked in expensive vases and composed flower arrangements, the kakushi that passed you pressing their foreheads together, whispers of yet another unfortunate victim of the scum glasses before disbursing back to their tasks. A few openly gawked at your state, their eyes betraying their lust while others scoffed believing that you had intentionally fallen for such a vulgar trap as a means of climbing your way up the corps hierarchy. Your feet feeling hollow as though you were chancing their accusations. Discussions of your raise of rank, hushed mumbles passed amongst the corps at your quick accession Mizunoto to Mizunoe, discussions that you had garnished a Hashira’s attention as of late, a rumor you had assumed, but that hadn’t diminished the gossip. Mizunotos and kakushi alike eager to complain over your rank title, especially if the rumors of your position raise to Tsuguko had any merit. The very reason you were at the main estate today, much to your ill-ease. It was as if all of your own abilities, your training, efforts, and time had meant absolutely nothing to them to begin with, and now… this.

                Tugging anxiously at the hem of your modified uniform. It’s paneling noticeably snugger than your peers. The open chest leaving little to the imagination, the shorts revealing as much leg as seemingly possible. The smallest bend of your waist liable to provide quite the show, and more propellant to the rumors. The visibility of hips in every step, you could eel the tinge of your ears and the nausea in your stomach. No matter how much you attempted to tug on the hem, it just wouldn’t budge. In fact, you were beginning to suspect that the uniform had its own petty intentions, seeking revenge by growing shorter and shorter with each nag. Doing your best to clasp files to your chest, which as now open. The sewing measurements adjusted Pinned at the collar, but somehow perfectly sewn to leave the opening from your collar to your navel exposed, any swift movement could cause the doom of a uniform malfunction… if this wasn’t already considered one. You should have known better. From your first joining of the corps shortly after passing the final selection, you had come across hearsay of a certain devious kakushi. Reported accounts of the scum glasses praying on naïve members regardless of gender or identification. If the object of his desires had claimed his attention, then they were in danger of uniform modifications at the first proposed opportunity. Never had you considered you would be on the receiving end of such adjustments or notice, and at the time he had presented you your uniform, ugh, the thought making you sick.

When you had turned your uniform in for repairs, a recent encounter against a especially volatile demon having tarnished their appearance, you had noted that the kakushi who accepted your request was different than your usual clothier. When you had inquired where your usual caretaker was, the kakushi had simply adjusted his large round glasses, pushing them up higher on the bridge of his nose with a light smile, insisting that they had been far too behind on work, and that his assistance was brought on by generosity to aide his peer. Fought back the confusion that something felt… off about the encounter when you had turned over your uniform, your retreat quickly blocked by the kakushi. His black eyes focused in on you, as he bore a forced smile. “Ah, my sincerest apologies, but your measurements?” When you had asked if there were any way for him to acquire your measurements from the usual clothier, he had quickly dismissed it with the wave of his hand. Garnishing his measurement tape as fast as a whip, and pinning you between the door frame. “I could, however, it would rather burden them, and I would like to return your uniform as soon as possible.”

                Through wrinkled nose, you had accepted that… you really had no reason to refuse his request. This was after all, his job… right? Dutifully, you had bit back the bile, told yourself that he had not in fact, thrown your old uniform in the waste bin—it wasn’t that beyond repair. No, no, he had just put it to the side. Attempted to convince yourself that, your recent run in with rumors had made you paranoid. There was nothing suspi—felt the urge to slap the clothier as his held felt far higher on the in-seam than you had recalled in past measurements. You had suffered it as long as you could, bidding him farewell at the first opportunity of the door opening to another kakushi entering the room. Quick to flee, knowing that if you had stayed a moment longer, you would strike an innocent man simply doing his job.

Upon picking up the supposed to be mended uniform, you were met with the reality that your uniform had in fact, been disposed of. In trying on the uniform, the same kakushi who had performed the new measurements, glowed his praise. Reassured you that the new fit was perfect, an absolute vision. The length growing quick on realization, “this is it?” You had asked, horrified as you began to tug.

                The growing annoyance on the kakushi’s face evident despite his concealed features. His brows drawn defensively. “[LN], this is the standard uniform for the higher ranks. Just like Himejima, Kanroji, and Shinazugawa before you, you now have the honor of bearing this upper tier uniform.” There was something in the way that he sighed, as though you should have been aware of the honor that the adjustments implicated. You had after all met two of the mentioned Hashira. Kanroji’s own uniform making an impression, but it was true, even Shinazugawa’s adjustments were… confident. S-surely, from there, it was a flurry of words. Some you could barely catch while you had been considering the upper rank slayers before your time. The kakushi’s voice sounded edge and defensive, as he sputtered out something to the extent that you had in fact, greatly over thought this, and were ungrateful for the opportunity to bare the necessary uniform for your rank. Quickly gathering his things, and high tailed it out of there, his retreat reminding you little more than a cockroach scuttling off after a successful plunder.

Stupid, you had thought shamefully to yourself as you attempted to bow your head even lower. Your heightened instincts had murmured caution, sent off wave after wave of warning signals, and yet, you had allowed yourself to be deceived. Talked into wearing a uniform that was very clearly, inappropriate, and unnecessary. As though you were meant to be some sort of obscured shunga painting. The realization thundering your heart as footsteps echoed behind you. Loud and heavy, few members of the corps dared to parade around the estate in such a rude manner. The slight peek over your shoulder confirming your suspicions. The tuft of thick white hair, as expressive and widespread as a camellia that filled your view. Not right now, you internally groaned. Picking up your pace, turning left followed by a right, taking any evasive maneuvers at their earliest opportunity. The now footsteps sounding like a tremble of earth that pounded the wooden planks of the flooring behind you. No, no no, you whispered internally to yourself. Not like this.  Biting your lip as you squeezed your eyes together.

                The howl of frustration evident on his words, “What the hell is your problem?” His voice like thunder, enraged and irritable. As though drums that bellowed against the mountains. The firm grasp of his strong hands as he yanked your shoulder backwards.

                N-Not like this. You had wanted to see him again. Lilac wide eyes the faintest shade of wisteria beneath a curtain of thick eyelashes, now drawn to a scowl. You had wanted to see him. Drawn to him from the moment you had met him in the mountains. Pinned in against a rock and a hard place, he had wasted no time coming to your assistance. Slashing his forearm without consideration to his own well-being—tossed himself into the fray, allowing you the opening to terminate your target. When you had offered lining of your torn uniform to, having already accepted that it was a part of the scrapped material beyond repair, he had shaken you off. Snipping something as though such an abrasion were enough to do him in. An irritable scoff, hiding behind scars that marred his face like a mask, pretending that he did not war a blush as he ripped the fabric from your fingers before kneeling down before you. His battle trained prowess made him heightened, aware that your calf had been seared into. He was awkward, masking his sincere care with abrasive speech, and aggressive manners, but the gesture could not be concealed. The lack of a scar left on your calf due to his care. You had longed to see him, but… not like this. The state of your dress bearing full shame convinced that you were at fault for your appearance, the tears trembled down your cheek as your large eyes glazed up at his own.

                “W-What the hell?” he sputtered. A few more scars had been added to his cheeks, followed down the line of his arm. Your eye drifting to the one gash he had earned on your behalf. The tears only growing stronger as he withdrew his hand from you. It had been a moment of pitiful remarks on his end—Sanemi certainly did not handle crying well. “D-damn it, stop would you!” He had yelled. Taunt muscles that had strained as though a cat pulling away from water, his eyes fell to your state of appearance. The blush emitting through harsh words. The apologetic mumble you had offered reaching his ears as you shyly tugged, doing your best to coil into yourself. Making it apparent that you humiliated by your uniform.

                Through flooded tears, you could make the soft subtle smell of musk, the hint of floral notes and citric orange peel, the warmth of cloth pressed against your head, wrapped around you firmly, fabric bearing down on your shoulders. A callous hand awkwardly smoothing the fabric over your hair, concealing you from sight. The hiss of a growl, “Piss. OFF,” snarled at passing mizunoto, who scurried away in a panic. The wind hashira was renowned for his temper, but something about this situation seemed especially dangerous. None willing to risk incurring his wrath by sticking around. Through soft sobs, realizing he no longer uttered bitter remarks about your tears, you glanced up at him. Aware that he had pinion you against the wall, in a protective stance. Glaring at anyone who might dare to glimpse at you. The cloak of his hashira uniform folded around you, concealing you from sight. Trembling amethyst eyes fighting for something to look at—anything but you, you had realized. The spread of a blush that touched his scars, danced across his neck, and trailed down his—“J-just put it on damn it.”

                Ah! Right, quickly capturing yourself in the scent that you could only compare to spring, you cocooned yourself in his generosity, growing more and more aware of the spread of his back, allowing you room to adjust yourself as necessary without fear of prying gazes. “Shinobu.”

                “hm?”

                “Your costume, dumbass,” he hissed. Still refusing to meet your eye as he guided you forward. Cautious not to make contact with you as his demanding presence thankfully cleared the way down the hall way. He would lead you to Shinobu. Her work in the Butterfly Mansion had guaranteed her consistent interactions with the kakushi; on top of her medical capabilities, he would ensure that that slimy scum glasses had not left a physical mark, making a note of the emotional blemishes that were evident in the cautious way you held his cloak around your shoulders. The route was cleared, mizunoto and kakushi stumbling from his sight as quick as they could manage. Like bugs off to spread disease in the way of rumors, he would leave you in Shinobu’s care. Where she could secure you a change of clothes, uniform or not, who gave a damn, and then…

  I’ll kill him.

#sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer

[youandmedead]

ßµrñêÐ Öµ† - Rêñgðkµ x !Gñ! RêåÐêr

Warnings: Angst, burn out, swearing, reader is nicknamed 'my love'

Requested by: No one

Synopsis: Reader is feeling burned out from all of their previous missions so Rengoku tries to comfort them

Notes: Haven’t been feeling the best lately so I decided to come up with this. Sorry its so short.

It was another one of those days where guilt, frustration and exhaustion were ganging up on you and preparing to make your life a living hell. Another mission had been complete yet another innocent soul being ripped away from your limp grasp. With a heavy sigh you took off your gear and laid your exhausted body upon the floor, not even caring that you were not in your bedroom. After a few minutes you tried to get up but it felt as if a huge weight had been placed upon your body. You tried to move your arms in order to rest your head upon them but it was also a useless endeavour, they felt like they had been sowed to your sides. Had a curse been placed upon you? Because that is surely what it felt like. That familiar gnawing feeling that constantly wore down your emotional barrier began to rise and that burning sensation in your throat and chest bubbled up. You so desperately wanted to cry, to scream, to vent any emotion that was coursing through you at this time but it was futile. It was all a one, big, useless attempt.

Suddenly, you heard the front door to your home close and footsteps drawing closer and closer to you.

“Y/n my love what are you doing on the floor? Are you okay?”

You managed to move ever so slightly to face the owner of that familiar voice. You were about to reply with a ‘not really’ but for some reason no sound escaped. Kyojuro kneeled down and placed a warm hand upon your cheek, “One of those days?”

You placed your hand upon his and nodded and let out a quiet, “Yeah”.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“I…I’ve just been having a really rough week. Everything just feel so out of control lately and I feel like such a failure. Another mizunoto had lost their life during a battle and I wish it was me instead of them…they were only 16 for god sakes!”

The tears that were able to escape, finally came pouring out. Kyojuro sat on the floor beside you and pulled you onto his lap and hugged you. The warmth that radiated from him whenever he hugged you was always comforting and it always made you feel loved and reminded you that for once you can actually experience what it is like.

“What happened on that mission was not your fault. Unfortunately, the risk of death is always there, especially for the inexperienced and under trained lower ranks.”

You gripped onto his haori tightly, that burning, clawing sensation in your throat and chest returned again. “Also if you were to die I wouldn’t know what to do…I’m grateful for you being here by my side, you’re the light of my life, I love you. I know that the world keeps trying to beat you down and I know being a hashira adds to all of the excess stress you have but you've helped save thousands of lives...you're doing an outstanding job to try and tackle everything that life throws in your way. You’re an amazing person my love, never forget that."

Kyojuro kissed your forehead and held you for a while as more and more tears cascaded down your cheeks. He then rested his chin upon the top of your head and softly rubbed circles on your back.

"I will be by your side through the good and the bad y/n," he whispered, "I would never leave you."

~

Eventually the tears stopped flowing and only a few sniffles here and there remained. You look up into your partners eyes and say, "Thankyou Kyojuro."

Kyojuro smiles warmly at you, "No need to thank me, love."

He then leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet, soft kiss.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #angst with comfort

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hi! First off, I’d just like to say your writing is so so good! It’s always such a pleasure seeing new posts from you. Second, I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a soft caregiver!Douma for an albino demon reader? :)

Oh. Sure! I definitely can give that a shot! I’ve been doing a lot of Hashira stuff lately so this is a real relief! Let me say, this was quite fun to write!

Warning! Big warning! This has a few spoilers on Douma, so if you’re unfamiliar with his backstory and abilities, please proceed ahead with caution!

Douma heavily pitted you at first. You’re extra weak to sunlight due to your albinism, and since you’re basically a child, you are defenceless

After the Upper Moon 2 saved you from a Mizunoto that tried to kill you for scavenging food, he decided he’d take you to his palace and figure out what to do with you next. He could potentially give you to another Upper Moon

Douma lets go to that idea and his pity in basically no time as he watches you play in the Eternal Paradise Cult with the curtains and awe at every luxurious sight, you’re just so adorable

Why should he give you up when he can look after you himself! He has comfortability, power, servants, food and so much more. You’d be a fool to decline him so he goes for it

Douma forcibly becomes your main caregiver, and grows softer and softer all the more time he spends with you. A demon or not, he won’t let you leave the Eternal Paradise Cult unless you’re with him

It’s not like you’ll say no. His life is very appealing and he seems quite kind so you immediately run to him and cuddle his leg. His dead cold heart flutters at your cute nuzzles

You’re curious over his followers and ask him if you can meet them. Douma simply smiles and begins setting up a dinner so you can make friends with his followers

He grows closer with you each day. He spends every morning messing around with you and impressing you with his Demon Blood Art. He practices making a ice replica of you and shows it off to you

Douma lets you play with his crown, sat in his lap as he listens to his followers’ pathetic little concerns. He’d much prefer to kick them out and spend his time playing with you

You’re the only being allowed to stay in his throne room and you can freely wonder around the Eternal Paradise Cult. But if any of his followers mess up and get you hurt, he’ll hurt them badly

Suspect Douma to run up to you and scoop you into a tight hug. He misses you everytime he has to go out for a mission so when he gets back, he basically pounces on you

Yes, he brags about you to the Upper Moons all the time. He is proud of the cute little demon he cares for and he wants everybody to know that the demon he loves is the best thing this planet has;

“Oh. Akaza-dono. Don’t be so hostile because I have a cute little princess like Dokusha. You all wish you had a child like mine, because she’s better than anything you all have combined!”

Whatever you want is whatever you get. You’re basically the princess of the cult, Douma makes his loyal followers bend over backwards to bring you what you wish. Mention a gift once and Douma will have it in front of you in a snap

The food of his is yours as well. He has plenty of energy and strength to spare so he doesn’t mind sharing his kill with you or even letting you have all of it, he’d rather you eat before him anyway. He is your caregiver after all

He won’t say a single word about him killing the followers to you, since you like them and he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. Though, he doesn’t realise how bad him basically feeding you the bodies of your new friends is

He loves styling your snowy white hair. He doesn’t need the practice but he just likes trying out new hairstyles. He has a bit of a habit where he dresses you in gorgeous fancy kimonos to make you the talk of the temple

He makes jokes about you being his daughter often. You two do have matching hair colour after all. All you need is blue, green, yellow, orange and red, and you’ll have his eyes too! As Douma claims

“Dokusha-chan! I got you- Huh? The kanji in my eyes? Don’t worry about them, they are… I was born with them, isn’t it nice?” Your caregiver won’t tell you the meaning behind ‘Upper Moon 2’ because he doesn’t see any reason to make you worried about his work

Douma is overprotective. He is ten— no— hundred times stronger than you so it’s his job to protect you. Though, it isn’t common for him to show this side since he never brings you to missions

There is only one time. You managed to get out of the temple, chasing a butterfly and accidentally came across a wondering Hashira. Douma came bolting in with steam blowing out his ears, he turned the Hashira into ice shards in mere seconds

Trust me. He’ll never get mad at you, he gets mad at his followers and mad being MAD. It’s their job to watch over you when Douma isn’t around so if you get into anything fishy or break something valuable, Douma targets his followers whilst apologising to you

Even though you can’t sleep, Douma has a routine for you to settle down and relax, resting you on his chest and rubbing your head as you very rapidly lighten up. He just loves seeing your little figure get calmer, you’re usually so full of energy

Douma does actively try to decrease his intense brutality when with you. You shouldn’t have to see a decapitated head in a pot just yet, yes, you’ve seen a dead body before but the pot is a different story

To catch your attention, he bites on your cheek playfully and pulls. He is a bit of a jealous type, he wants you to like him the most! But, don’t worry about him biting, it doesn’t hurt as he is careful and he lets you do the same back so it’s fair

Douma picks you up and carries you around almost all the time, you’re much smaller than him and he feels calmer having his beloved little demon at his side. He isn’t rough at all, he even tries to reframe from poking you with his claws

Since his followers like you a lot too, he’ll let you answer them occasionally. He doesn’t mind at all, he despises this part of running his own cult. You care more for those walking food reserves than he does

Douma is quite twisted and cruel, but with the things he likes, he can’t bring himself to break them. Douma can’t lay his hands on you, no matter how angry he gets. You’ve become important to him in only a few days

He always figured he’d never make a connection with anybody since he doesn’t feel emotions. But you changed that for good, he now feels a overwhelming sense of love for you. He wants to be more than your caregiver, he wants to be your father since he does view you as his daughter

“Dokusha-chan! Dokusha-chan! After this, would you like to go outside and make a iceman with me? Yes? That’s wonderful to hear! I have a special new formation I want to show you!”

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #anime and manga #kny imagines #headcanons #kny upper moons #kny douma #demon slayer douma #douma #upper moons #upper moon 2 #fluff #wholesome #kny spoilers