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pillbug-agere · 16 days ago

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Regressuary Day 2: Hand in Hand 🐍🔥

(Art by @/Sweetiedraws on Twitter/X)

Prompt: Character A’s nighttime routine (Changed by me).

Characters: Obanai Iguro (Regressor) & Kyoujuro Rengoku (Caregiver?)

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Obanai’s backstory, dark/traumatic themes, mentions/images of past trauma.

(Sorry I’m so behind, I’m on a family trip and barely had any time to write. But just to lyk I will be finishing the list!! Anyway, here we go!!)

As the sun sets upon the Rengoku estate Obanai watches as the brightly colored flowers tuck away into the night, fulfilling their duties for the day and surrendering to the moon’s grace.

The pattern was different yet all the same; house lights being turned off, candles blown off, animals burrowing into their dens or nests with their families after a long day of searching for food. Such is the cycle of life; live to survive, survive to live. It was a cycle of on and off battles for survival. Simple really.

“O-Obanai-san… You’ve been staring at those flowers for half an hour now…?”

Oh crap.

He turned his head to the youngest Rengoku descendant, Senjuro, who was checking up on him before he went for bed as he always did when the Serpent Hashira spent the night. Obanai sighed, pouting behind his bandages. He would’ve thought that after all these years, Senjuro would’ve dropped the formalities and simply called him by his first name by now… They’re basically brothers…

“Ahem… Apologies, Senjuro. Also, drop the formal title, I’ve told you already that you can call me by my first name.” Obanai spoke, voice breathy almost like a soft hiss. Senjuro smiled. “Are you heading to bed?”

“Yes! Well… Kyoujuro promised me he’d train with me tomorrow so I want to have as much energy as I can!” Senjuro beamed, hands held in fists. Despite his enthusiasm’s similarities with that Kamado boy’s, he never hated Senjuro’s positivity, not once.

Obanai stood up from where he sat on the porch, walking over to the kid and patting him on the head, the faintest of smiles hidden behind his mask. “Good, it’s always important to keep up with your training, I’m glad you’re taking it seriously.”

Senjuro, while blushing, nodded with determination. From the corner, came his much taller older brother, Kyoujuro, who was standing there for a few minutes watching the interaction before Obanai noticed. Obanai retracted his hand and cleaned his throat.

“H-how long have you been watching us?”

“Not long enough, hahah!” Kyoujuro laughed with his usual smile, contagiously bright. He walked over to the pair, now ruffling Senjuro’s hair himself with his big, battered hands. “I always knew you were a softie, Obi! Alright then, Kiddo. I won’t be holding back tomorrow, so be ready and get plenty of sleep!”

“R-right! Goodnight, Nii-san, Obanai.” Senjuro bowed politely as he returned to his room, his socked footsteps fading as he closed the door. Obanai sighed, looking over at Kyoujuro, who still bore a radiant smile on his face.

“What are you smiling for?”

“Oh nothing! Is it so bad to smile when one’s joyous?” Obanai said nothing, simply pouting as Kyoujuro redirected him to their rooms. As kids, they shared a room until Obanai became a demon slayer, but Kyoujuro always kept an extra futon in his room for when his adoptive brother came over.

Kyoujuro slid the door closed as Obanai began to undo the light blue happi he wore above his dark blue clothing. As soon as the sleeves ran down his arms, he was tackled to the soft cushion on the futon by Kyoujuro.

“Wha!?-“

“It’s night-night time, Snakelet!”

Wait, how did he-?

Kyoujuro always had some strange sixth sense when it came to his family, and wether or not it was endearing or creepy, it was nonetheless helpful. Right now though was not the time when Obanai wanted to regress, how did Kyoujuro know he was regressing before he himself knew!?- Whatever. Just pretend to be big and sleep it off, Mitsuri is coming over tomorrow to the Rengoku estate, and he has so help Senjuro train-

“Come on, did you think you could hide this from me? I’m more keen than you might think, Obi!” Kyoujuro chuckled, pulling both of them up, leaving Obanai to sit there winded as he went to grab some jinbei pajamas for the two.

Kaburamaru slithered up to his head, resting itself on Obanai’s (now) messy hair. Obanai didn’t know what to do now, give up? There was no fighting Kyoujuro when he got like this, afterall…

“Cmon, Obi! Let’s go take a bath, okay? I can wash your hair!” Kyoujuro snapped him out of his thoughts, rattling a small wooden rattle infront of Obanai to catch his attention. It worked, to say the least, but he took it back before Obanai could grab it. “Bath.”

Obanai pouted, but nonetheless obliged to Kyoujuro’s authorative tone and stood up (with the taller man’s help), leaving Kaburamaru on the futon with mumbled instructions for him to stay there until they got back. Afterall, Kaburamaru doesn’t like baths.

Neither does Obanai.

When they got to the bath, Kyoujuro wasted no time getting their clothes off properly, wrapping a tower around his own waist as he led Obanai to the bath, setting up warm water.

The water’s reflection glared at Obanai like a sword to the neck. The bathhouse itself was moist and hot already without any water, but even with sweat dripping down his neck, his hands shook at the thought of removing his facial bandages.

The Rengoku estate was the one place where he felt like he was validated, even after Ruka-san passed away and Shinjuro-san began drinking. Afterall, Shinjuro was the one who saved him from- from his “family”, he was the one who freed him. He’d gotten the best healers to treat his wounds as best as they could, and his son, Kyoujuro, would hold his hand during the days it would get infected and he’d be bedridden with fever. Despite all that, Obanai hated showing his face.

No. He didn’t hate showing his face, he simply hated his face.

Even still, Kyoujuro, with his oversized hands all scarred and battered with training, gently tugged at the bandages around his neck and jawline, slipping them off in one long strand still it sat like a long pearl serpent in his hands. Obanai felt the air against his exposed skin. It was his least favorite feeling.

Kyoujuro held his hand in his. Despite being a year older, Obanai was always smaller than the Flame Hashira in most ways, but now, they felt like they stood the same.

It wasn’t long that they stayed in the bathhouse. Kyoujuro slowly washing off his body and washing his hair, careful not to tug at his sensitive scalp all while Obanai listened to the stories Kyoujuro told; “Today I rescued a family of ducks near a river! The mother duck was about to fall in and drift away, but I safely got her and her ducklings across!” Obanai couldn’t help but laugh, Kyoujuro always knew how to make him smile, little or not.

Finally, when they were both dried up and dressed back in their rooms, Obanai’s hair in a ponytail and Kyoujuro’s firely locks wrapped neatly in a towel, l the flame haired male grabbed a container of medicinal cream and scooped some up with two fingers. Obanai whined, shrinking into himself as Kaburamaru, draped over his shoulders, wrapped himself protectively around the Hashira.

“Oh, c’mon, Obi… We’ve been through this. Y’know you have to…” Kyoujuro’s voice was gentle, taking Obanai’s thumb from his mouth once he began to nibble on it unconsciously. “You always get itchy during warm nights… Senjuro made this because he knew you were coming.”

“N-no.” Obanai hissed, shielding his face with his hands. “No- Don’ touch me…” His words slurred.

Hands on his face… A blade on his face-

“Obi…”

His hair tied back, arms behind his back, exposed to the large shadow before him-

“N-no…!”

“Obanai!” Warm hands gripped at his, and heterochromatic eyes met sunset palette ones. A pair of eyes that had no intent on hurting him. Kyoujuro’s eyes. “I know you don’t like being touched on you face, Snakelet… But please? Can you try for me? I’ll hold you hand, it’ll be quick.”

Right… It was just medicinal cream, not a blade… It would prevent swelling and irritatio!, it wouldn’t hurt him… Especially when his brother was there.

“…M’kay…”

Kyoujuro smiled, slowly placing the cream around Obanai’s long scars. The cream was cold upon contact, but it was smooth against his dry skin. Kyoujuro moved swiftly and gently, softly praising Obanai for his patience as he slowly traced his more sensitive spots. Obanai shivered, but didn’t flinch, he only squeezed the flame haired man’s hand.

The eldest Rengoku son was always rather odd to one’s eyes, weird even, and if you asked the same thing to Obanai fifteen years ago, hed probably agree. Afterall, he was always smiling. Even when Obanai was locked in a caged filled with rotting bentos and an empty stomach for days, his sisters and aunts would always plaster a smile and offer him food like nothing was wrong. Obanai thought Kyoujuro was the same, a simple minded kid who had lived a privileged life and who didn’t know the extent of Obanai’s suffering back then, but that couldn’t be far from the truth. Unlike his mothers, aunts, cousins and sisters, Kyoujuro smiled knowing he was doing something good for Obanai. His smiles didn’t mean “eat this! It’ll make you more appealing!” or “your eyes are just so beautiful, Obanai!”. Instead, they meant “eat this! Father said you gotta eat lots to be strong!” and “your eyes are so cool, Obanai!”.

There was a reason why Kyoujuro was the first person Obanai confied to about his regression. Kyoujuro was the big brother he never had.

By now, the taller man had passed the wooden rattle to the smaller man, who shook it lightly, making satisfying noises as the wooden beads inside bounced against the walls of the rattle. A handmade gift from Kyoujuro, when he was forced into practicing wood carving by Mitsuri (she carved a heart on it. It was a sweet gesture from her).

Kyoujuro made a final noise of satisfaction when he pulled back. That’s when Obanai noticed that the skin that was usually hidden underneath scratchy bandages was now smooth and cool against the breeze. Kyoujuro also proceeded to grab his soother and blow off the candles that were dimly lighting the room.

Obanai placed the soother in his mouth, mumbling a small thanks as Kyoujuro tucked him into his futon.

“Don’t mention it, Baby Brother! I’ll always be here to take care of you!” Kyoujuro laughed it off, passing him his rattle and using an extra blanket to form a nest for Kaburamaru right next to Obanai’s head. Despite being the younger one between the two, Kyoujuro always felt like he was the elder one, the one that had to protect his younger brothers. It was pretty obvious since day one that Kyoujuro was going to take that caretaker role, but it was one of the many things that made Kyoujuro so different from other people Obanai knew.

Kyoujuro, now with his damp hair slipped out of the towel, nuzzled himself into the futon next to Obanai’s, chuckling a little as he felt the other’s smaller hands grasp his. Just like they were kids.

“Promise Bubba that you’ll wake me up if you have any bad dreams?” Kyoujuro asked, voice soft when he notice Obanai’s eyes slipping shut. Obanai saw that cheeky smile, Obanai wasn’t fully blind, and yet he didn’t make any re marks about the petname Kyoujuro gave himself. His body was melting into a soft warmth, feeling Kyoujuro’s hand go slack with his as they both fell into slumber.

Later, Obanai would wake up that morning with his soother in his mouth and his hand still holding his brother’s. But right now, he was peacefully resting beside his brother, their heads just barely touching eachother as they rested side by side. A brotherly bond; protection and to be protected.

Hand in his brother’s hand, Obanai slept without any disturbances that night.

• • • •

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