#rengoku x f.reader

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Moonlight -x- Sunlight

ch.3 -- Demons' 101 (cw// banner has flashing txt!)

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: modern!au, teacher!kyojuro by day/demonslayer by night, izakayaworker!reader, slowburn?, romance, angst

warning(s): slight implications of anxiety, rengoku info-dumps about demons, Taco being Taco

w.count: 6.3k

synopsis: if someone told you that one night you’d find yourself walking down the street at three in the morning before you were running for your life away from a disjointed monster hot on your heels- you’d probably check for fever or intoxication. but, when that actually happens, all you think of is running and praying for a miracle as you stare death in the face. turns out, that miracle comes in the form of reassuring smiles and a red sword beneath a bridge and by the riverside.

-x-x-x-

a/n: hope y'all are ready bc shes back!! read the a/n pt.2 at the end for further instructions heheh (if there's still grammatical errors soz i edited this in chunks and couldn't be bothered to reread everything one more time)

-x-x-x-

You were slouched against your locker in the back room where your aprons and extra clothes are kept by the end of your shift. The izakaya had finally closed, and while it was closed earlier than usual since patrons seemed to have filed out pretty quick tonight, the way your throbbing ankle felt didn't make the early closing any better. You had willed away most of the pain, carrying on as if nothing was wrong, and kept yourself busy with micro-breaks here and there, but now that it was all said and done, well, you’ve felt better. 

You quickly took off your apron and tossed it in your locker and grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. Snatching your crutch, you placed it under your shoulder and sighed when you lifted your foot and relieved it of your weight. 

“Christ,” you mutter to yourself before you’re hobbling your way out of the locker room, through the main lobby all the way to the entrance. You shouted to whoever may be around still, be it lingering coworkers or your boss, before you slid open the door and left. With a small show of your balance, you pushed the door shut with your crutch as you stood on your one good leg before bringing the crutch back down where it needed to be. 

You sidle to the right away from the entrance, just out of reach for the hanging lamps to cast a shadow over you when you take a shaky breath. You found yourself paranoid in the early morning hours- but, you couldn’t blame yourself. The last time you were out this late after a shift, you almost died. You took a deep breath, then another… then another. You try calming yourself down, convincing yourself that what happened was a once-in-a-lifetime freak accident and there was no way you’d be unlucky enough to get caught up in something like that again. 

“It’s fine,” you tell yourself. “I’m fine,” you repeat. The palm you used to grab the handle of your crutch felt sweaty, so you took it off for a moment and furiously wiped it on your shirt before returning it.  “You’re going to be fine,” you hiss to yourself, looking down at your feet, one uninjured and the other replaced with a crutch foot. The same feet that still wouldn’t move despite your pep talk. 

Stuck in your mental battle on when you’re finally going to get your limbs to start taking you home, you completely miss the person walking up behind you until they call out to you. 

“Is your ankle in much pain?” 

You squawk, your crutch jumping out away from your leg and making your teeter before correcting yourself and using your other arm to reach across your body and grab onto the medical addition to your body in further stability. Whipping your head up, you once again come face to face with Rengoku. Still smiling, even if there’s a hint of concern in his wide eyes since he didn’t exactly mean to spook you. You also took notice of his arms that were outstretched and ready to catch you if you began careening down to the pavement.

You correct your posture and face him, feeling embarrassed for a number of reasons. 

“I’m slated to never have a normal greeting with you, am I?” You speak more to yourself than him since every time you’ve encountered him so far- not including when he was a paying customer not so long ago- has been riddled with embarrassment or fear. You’ve come face to face with him three times now, and you conducted yourself better in front of Kocho who you had met once and stripped down to your bones in front of. “What are you still doing out at this hour?” 

“I am doing a simple round of patrols for this sector of the city,” he tells you and your eyes finally drift down to see the white sheath on his hip supported by the harness he wore on his chest and over his shoulders- the same items he had when you first saw him. Seeing them again made a lump form in your throat that you tried to choke down. You felt a bit stupid for the question because what else would he be doing out this late when you’ve seen first hand what could happen. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you shake your head and scoff at yourself, “I could’ve guessed.” 

“No need to apologize!” That didn’t exactly reassure you. Rengoku was good at reading people, he spent a lot of time doing so among his years, so your unsteady and somewhat jittery presence did not fly over his head. “Are you heading home?” 

“Planning on it, yeah.” 

“It’s much earlier than last time, that is good!” 

“It was a slow night so we closed down earlier.” 

“Would you like an escort home?” 

“An escort?” Your words were short as you confirm what he’s just asked you. Part of you hates that he basically just told you that he can see your paranoia and anxiousness as clear as day. You glance away and gnaw at your lip, conflicted. You most certainly didn’t want to walk home alone, the nightmarish memories haunting you like a... well like a demon. But you also didn’t want to appear fragile because you couldn’t walk home like you had a thousand times before. 

You take a deep, shaky breath as Rengoku steps closer to you, his hair lighting up further as he gets closer to the hanging lanterns behind you. The colors and shades nearing the light resembling a warm campfire to keep woodland terrors at bay. A safe beacon.

“It is not wrong to be afraid.” 

“I'm not!” You instinctively argue back, but immediately bite your own tongue realizing that raising your voice at his kindness was most certainly rude. However, even a two year old could tell that your words were clearly a lie. You sigh again, apologizing for your outburst. “Yes, I am,” you admit more to yourself than to him.

Rengoku just smiles down at your averted eyes and moves to stand beside you before gently slipping your purse off your shoulder and slotting it up his arm to rest on his own. He outstretched his opposite arm as he caught your eyes again and gently signaled you to start moving at your own pace. 

“Allow me to walk you home then.” With him already having taken your purse and gestured his intent to not be swayed on his decision, you smirk teasing up at him and chuckle. 

“Arguing won’t get me anywhere, will it?” 

Not that you really wanted it to.

“It will not!” Well, at least he was honest. 

The walk back was relatively quiet, save for the nighttime crickets that chirped along with the toads hidden away in corners. The sounds of the cicadas had lessened from this afternoon to a dull buzz instead of mind-numbing shrills. You kept taking glances at Rengoku, your purse hanging off the shoulder closest to you as you hobbled along on your crutches. You could barely see the tip of his sword's hilt from around him without being too obvious you were even looking to begin with. He must’ve kept it as horizontal to his leg as possible to avoid catching whatever riff-raff attention could be mangling around. 

“Does something interest you?” Apparently, you weren’t as sneaky as you thought. You shoot your gaze forwards, nearly stumbling on your set of extra rubber feet and clearing your throat, the summer air suddenly way too dry for the humid season. 

“I just, well, I didn’t think you’d notice?” You tell him honestly. He chuckles at your words and you feel a little better since he doesn’t sound freaked out by your clearly awkward behavior. “I guess I was a little curious about your, what do you call it, second job? The whole,” you lift one of your crutches, stopping your movements momentarily as you whip it around and grunt (rather embarrassingly) before putting it back down, “sword job thing?” 

He laughs before letting out a small “Ah!” in recognition of your curiosity. Maybe it was because of the early hours, but part of you feared an apartment window flicking on in response to his boisterous laughter. Still, you easily admitting to yourself that it was a lovely sound. 

“Curiosity may not be the wisest decision when it is about what goes on after the sun sets. Sometimes, it’s best that people believe demon’s are nothing but fictional stories made up simply to spook children.” 

“Oh,” you were a little disappointed. You had already been attacked and injured, it’s not like you’d call him a liar if he told you. “I see.” You still wanted to know more, even if it was terrifying. With your crestfallen expression and new goal to just get home without creating an uncomfortable atmosphere, you missed the small look the flame-haired man gave you. 

“Regardless of my skills, being out so late at night can be dangerous for anyone,” he starts, eyes casting forwards once more as he continues to lead you home. “There are many kinds of demons under the moon, and some can be more ferocious than others. If one catches sight of myself or another of my…” he pauses to find a decent word. “... coworkers,” he decides on, “chances are split that they flee from us, or do the opposite and begin a confrontation if they’re feeling particularly omnipotent.” 

That small piece of information made you feel a little better about his choice to stay quiet about it all, his choice to disclose that even he wasn’t always 100% safe was bone chilling. Still, it did not soothe your curiousity completely. You decided to shake it off, you were acting like a child- it wasn’t your business and this man was nothing more than a stranger you’ve run into a couple times. The fact he literally saved your life had nothing to do with it- you had to let it go. 

It was rude to pry. 

“Perhaps when we get to your home I can answer your questions there.” You stop in your limping steps as you look at him. He was smiling at you, something warm and comforting and you seemed to light up. “That is if I would be allowed inside a young woman’s house at this hour.” 

“Of course!” Perhaps you were too loud because you immediately covered your mouth with one hand, nearly dropping one of your crutches. You look around, seeing no light flick on and no windows opening to yell for you to keep it down. You lower your hand, a small smile on your face as you clear your throat. “Of course,” you repeat, much more quietly this time. “As long as you don’t mind a temporarily handicapped host and one obnxiously sassy cat.” 

He laughs loudly again. “I happen to be fond of cats and your company as well!” 

“We’ve met twice, and one of those times I was covered in grass stains, dirt, and sweat.”

“I am a very good judge of character!” You roll your eyes, but somehow, you believe him. 

-x-x-x-

“Um, just take your shoes off at the door please.” You tell Rengoku as you sit yourself on the small stool you’ve set up by the front door so you can take your shoes off without much fuss. He easily complies, as he steps into your house only to turn and patiently wait for you to finish up. As you drop your shoes, he offers his arm as you gratefully take it and hoist yourself up with the use of the cane you keep at your door in exchange for your crutches. 

In the comfort of your own home that you could maneuver through blindfolded, you greatly preferred the short, ease of use of a cane. You kept it a secret from Kocho though, who knows if she’d scold you for the unprompted buy since she was probably the most professional and strict doctor you’ve been the patient of. 

Luckily, since Rengoku had been in your home this much before, he let you use his arm with your free hand all the way until you got into the living room. Much like how he carried you in before. You slip your palm off his forearm and step around him, much less clunky without your crutches. 

“Have a seat. I don’t have much to offer, but I do have cold bottled water I can promise hasn't been opened,” you joke as he laughs. 

“I appreciate the hospitality, however you do not need to-” 

“Ah-tata,” you cut him off, “just because my foot isn’t at peak recovery doesn’t mean I can’t get you a small bottle of water. The kitchen isn’t far anyways.” Rengoku relented. Just as it was impossible to argue with him, it seemed to go both ways. He smiled. 

He liked that. 

As you disappeared into the kitchen, a small meow and curious tap against his shin caught his attention as he stood by the couch. He smiled down at the black cat as he slid his sword out of the harness he wore and set it gently against the couch so as to not startle your pet. He knelt, offering his hand out as Taco’s little nose bumped against it, sniffing before rubbing his head against the warm knuckles of Rengoku. 

“Aren’t you cute,” he mumbles to himself. 

“Only around guests,” you add, coming back into the living room to see Rengoku loving on your cat. “He’s cute now, but he’s a big pain in my butt when he wants to be.” You offer him a cold bottle of some random brand of water you bought on sale.

“Aren’t many animals that way?” He graciously takes the plastic bottle from you, the chill of it is a welcome change in his warm palm. 

“I think it’s because I spoil him too much. He was a very unprompted rescue, so I went a little overboard raising him.” 

“There is nothing wrong with raising an animal with so much care! He seems very happy!” 

You plop yourself on the couch and Taco was quick to abandon Rengoku’s side in favor of yourself as he jumped on the cushions and stepped onto your lap where he folded his legs and lay himself down. You scratch at his back, making him stretch and roll before he’s trying to play and swipe at your hand and fingers. 

The small little tag that read ‘TACO’ in engraved letters caught Rengoku’s eye and he chuckled at the name. Indeed, that was a very happy and loved cat, he had no doubt. 

“You’re welcome to sit on the couch,” you lightly joke at his still kneeling form on your livingroom floor. He does as you suggest, thanking you before sitting a cushion away from you as to not push personal boundaries or opposingly seem too standoff-ish. It was quiet for a bit as you fiddle with your own waterbottle in your hand. “I hope I’m not causing any trouble,” you announce bashfully. 

“Pardon?” 

“Well,” you breathe, untwisting, then retwisting, just to untwist your bottle cap again to try and focus on something other than your sudden anxiety. “I just sort of dragged you here. I dunno, I feel like I’m pulling you away from your job? I know how important it is.” 

“Worry not,” he quells. “There are many others like myself who also patrol the streets when the sun sets! I am not the only one, so my company here is no trouble at all!” 

“Oh, right, you mentioned other coworkers. Are there a lot of you?” 

“There is! We’re an organization of many people, but since we’re unrecognized by the government and since people do not believe in demon’s unless they survive an encounter with one, we are very scarcely known.” You nod at him. You feel a little sad at the fact he, and others like him, were risking their safety and no one even knew. “In fact, there are even a few of my students who work along side me as well!” 

“Students?” You whip your full attention to him at mention of children. “You’re a teacher?” 

“I am!” 

“And you all just, what? Let children into your little demon-slaying job?” 

“Well, not exactly, no.” Rengoku worried he wold break into a sweat at your accusatory tone of getting children involved in clearly dangerous work. “Although it is dangerous, younger slayers are put through rigirous training and must past a very specific qualification test before they can even take to the field like I do. We of higher ranking always make sure to watch out for our young underlings. They are our future after all!” 

The idea of kids fighting those… things still didn’t sit quite right with you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. And if Rengoku says that they’re well taken care of, and skillful above that, then surely they weren’t in too much danger. You wanted to trust his words so you shut your eyes and willed yourself to do so.

“Plus, we are not so reckless as to just assign anything to anyone. No demon is slain by a slayer who is weaker than the task at hand. We’re very meticulous about such things.” 

“I understand.” You open your eyes and glance over at your cane for a moment then speak up again. “So, what are demons exactly?” 

“Demons are former humans who have either been killed and revived by demon blood, or made a deal with another demon for power.” 

“Former humans?” Your mind flashed back to the spindly, disfigured, skeletal demon that attacked you. “So, that thing that attacked me? That was once a person?” Rengoku nodded and a chill ran violently down your spine. 

“At some point, yes it was. However, based on its appearance, it must’ve been a demon for a very long time to change that much.” That didn’t exactly make you feel better about it. “You must understand that demons are dangerous creatures regardless of what they used to be. They will not hesitate to attack and slaughter humans. We do not kill demons for sport, it is necessary to protect future victims.” 

“I believe you and I understand- I do, it’s just… a lot to process, I guess?” You blow a harsh breath out of your lips. “So, how do you kill them? I mean with your sword I guess, but is there any other way?” 

Rengoku nodded, grabbing his sword’s scabbard and hilt before drawing it. The red blade you had gotten a glimpse of the night of the attack shone brilliantly in your well-lit living room. It was truly a beautiful blade to look at and the sword guard in the shape of flames was very fitting to its wielder. 

“To kill a demon it must be done with a very specific sword with a blade made out of a specific mineral that’s been bathed in sunlight for many years. This is a nichirin sword, a sword that has a color changing blade.” 

“So, a regular sword wouldn’t work?” 

“Correct!” He offers his sword over for you to hold and inspect it. You gently take it from him after you move Taco out of the way so that he wouldn’t start playing with it like it was a toy. “You can hack a demon into pieces with a regular blade, but it will always regenerate. A demon must be decapitated with a nichirin sword or it will continue to wreck havoc.” You hand the sword back to him and he easily sheaths it with practiced ease. “However, there are ways to defend yourself from demons, if you’d like to hear?” 

You nod, intrigued by the entirely new concept of the world you had been so oblivious to for so many years of your life. You wanted to know more, to understand more. It was captivating and if he was willing to tell, you were willing to listen. 

“There are special guns forged in our line of work that have crafted bullets that cause great harm to demons! Among other ways to deter them, demons are unable to stand wisteria.” 

“Wistera? Like the flower?” 

“Yes! Clusters of Wisteria trees are always a safe place to run to in the event one is close by. Even wisteria-scented charms and poisons are toxic and painful to their kind, they actively avoid anything to do with it. In fact, Kocho is a demon slayer, the same as I!” 

“Really?!” Rengoku laughs loudly at your shock, but after a moment it did make sense. She was specifically referred by him and knew everything about what you experienced and believed it easily. If you had stopped to think about it, it was pretty easy to assume she was involved somehow, but a fighter? That was a bit of a shock considering her stature.

“Though she does not have the strength to cut a demon’s head off its shoulders, she’s developed a technique that incorporates poisons in her duty that are lethal upon injection.”

“Wow,” you awe. She was more impressive by the day. 

“Of course, it helps that she’s also a very skilled doctor!” 

“That’s true,” you lightly giggle. There’s silence in your living room once more as you glance over at the blond haired man. “So,” you start and gain his attention, “you’re a teacher?” You already knew the answer, he answered you earlier but it was the best ice breaker you could think of.  

“That is correct.” 

“I feel like I could’ve guessed if you didn’t already tell me. You explain things well. Your students must like you.” 

“I cannot say how well I am at teaching in particular, but my student’s grades never drop to failing marks! You must keep the children interested in the lesson if you wish for them to grow. I do my best to achieve nothing less!” 

“What do you teach?” 

“History! I find it very fascinating- the past that is.” You nod. “Not to mention, I have been teaching my younger brother many things since we were young and I always enjoyed doing so. So, the profession grew on me. I very quickly knew what I wanted to do with my life during the time the sun is in the sky.” 

“A younger brother? How old is he?” 

“He’s currently in high school. Despite our age gap, we get along very well!” 

“That’s great that you both get along. I’m an only child myself, but I do have a younger cousin. He feels more like a kid brother though, so I can sort of understand. The school’s he’s attending right now has dorm buildings for it’s students, so we don’t visit much,” you reminisce as you comfortably cross your arms. 

“I’m sure you miss him.” 

“Sometimes,” you chuckle. “Then there are times I’m glad he’s not actually my brother, as horrible as that sounds.” 

“Regardless, I’m sure he feels the same!” 

Thankfully, before the conversation took a turn for the mushy, Taco started to meow at you. He had jumped onto the floor earlier after being taken off your lap and roamed before coming back to paw at your leg. You leaned down and scratched under his chin as you felt him purr. 

“I know, you need to be fed,” you tell him as you start coddling him. You excuse yourself as Rengoku got off the couch to help you to your feet before you were off to the kitchen again, Taco trotting eagerly behind you. 

In the silence of your living room alone again, Kyojuro Rengoku looked around the room at all the decorations. Some frames on the wall here, some dry plants there, a couple cat toys scattered around the floor that was no doubt Taco’s doing, and a grey cat tower was close to the main window in the room where the dark curtains were drawn for the night. Despite all that he was visually taking in, he was stuck in his thoughts.  

Kyojuro was always a people person, he enjoyed chatting and making connections, it was another reason he loved teaching so much.  Something about tonight felt different to him though. Like this one experience with this one person- you- was something out of the ordinary. LIke it was something special. 

When you came back from feeding Taco, you carried random conversation topics before an ill-timed alarm went off on his phone that had been stuffed in his pocket this whole time. The sudden sound startled you and Rengoku was quick to apologize before realizing how late it was. If he didn’t get home and get at least some sleep, tomorrow’s lesson would surely be a lackadaisical one. 

You saw him out, despite how much he insisted you not be on your feet, and before you knew it he was outside your door and then gone. 

“He’s fast,” you muttered to the air he used to occupy before shutting your door and double-checking to make sure you did in fact lock it. You looked at both sides of your front door devoid of any decorations. “Maybe I should get some tables or something to put some flowers on so the front entrance isn’t so boring.” 

With that last thought, you called for Taco because you needed to get to bed yourself. Sleep found you easily as opposed to the last few nights, and with it brought nothing but calm darkness. You were grateful for a night of sleep without nightmares.

-x-x-x-

Another week had passed and a small part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t heard or seen heads or tails of Rengoku again. He hadn’t been by the izakaya with his friend or anyone else for that matter, and you haven’t had the pleasure of running into him in the streets. Of course, the moment the feeling of disappointment nagged at you, you immediately tried to squash it down.

Despite the fact that he was A) someone who saved your life and B) a man you allowed into your home a grand total of two times didn’t erase the fact that he was still practically a stranger. A stranger who spilled his guts about his profession and gave a brief history lesson about demons in your living room, but a stranger nonetheless. 

Your foot had improved drastically since a week ago and you could now walk without dragging a crutch or cane around with you. The pain would still sometimes ebb at the joint, but you’d always try and find a place for a pitstop to rest and take any on-hand pain medication before it got too bad. 

Your current pitstop? Your local library. 

You didn’t really have any explanation why you decided to come here on your spare time, furthermore why you were nosing around in the historical section. Granted, the books you picked up weren’t full of information you didn’t already know- but you still flipped through the pages standing in the empty isle regardless completely engrossed in the material.

After your skip around history, you made sure to replace all the books from where you got them (or the best you could remember) and moved to make your way out into the open space between sections. The library attendant's desk with a single employee sitting behind it with their nose in a book to pass by the shift was within sight of the wide open space. 

The day was slowly starting to wane and you sat yourself at an unoccupied table close to a window that showed the streets that were starting the transformation of throngs of people to freckles of bodies. You push your chin into your palm as you watch out the window mindlessly. You didn’t have a shift tonight that demanded your attendance and you felt restless. It was strange, normally you’d have no issues just spending a lazy day inside on the time you didn’t have plans or work. 

Now? Now you felt like any free moment you spent inside was wasted. You felt bad about it since you were leaving Taco alone, but you promised that you’d take your beloved cat out on more walks if this new behavior keeps up. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a harness and leash for walking, it was purely because finding the right time to take him out never worked in your favor. 

You blew air out your lips as you lay your head down on the table. Maybe it was the fact that you experienced a near-death experience and were recovering from it that made you not want to take time for granted. You cringed at your cliche thinking. 

You didn’t sit at the table long, grabbing your purse and making sure you didn’t leave anything behind before you left the library entirely- it was getting close to closing hours anyways. The last thing you needed was a staff member chasing you out. 

The sky bathed the concrete jungle that was the thinning streets a warm orange as you felt the simmering of heat stick uncomfortably to your skin and under yout clothes. The walk back home felt shorter than it was and when Taco didn’t come running to the sound of the opening and closing door, you felt confusion morph your face. Was he sleeping? Normally, he would be rushing to the door before you managed to slam it shut and lock it while he cried at his once again failure to bolt out the door. 

His escape artistry isn’t as honed as other alley cats and he had a hard time accepting that if it wasn’t obvious by the fits he throws. 

Toeing your shoes off, you stepped inside and as you got closer to your living room you could hear rattling. Rattling? You speed up your steps thinking your nosey cat had gotten into or broken something and was foolishly playing with the pieces, but when you come into the living room with the waning sunlight forcing your to turn on the house lights, you gasp at what you see. 

It was Taco, your beloved cat, yes, but he hadn’t knocked anything down or broken anything that your eye could see. Instead, he was sitting on his cat tower that sat by the large window of your living room you would normally decorate for holidays pawing at the glass as a large black bird sat opposite of him behind the pane. 

The bird, you couldn’t tell what kind from your shock and slight panic-blinded eyes, was sat perfectly still on the outside of the window, knocking its beak lightly against the glass every time Taco mewled or pawed. Its head turned and cocked when it noticed the light flick on and you swore you saw its dark eyes zero in on you before its wings spread out wide spooking Taco off of his tower and onto the floor where he made a less than gracious landing. 

Its wings flapped and then folded back in before tapping two more times on the window. You swallowed the lump in your throat before you slowly treaded up to the window. The bird's beak and eyes followed you, lifting higher to keep its sight on your face the closer you got before you were standing next to Taco’s tower. The black cat himself had seemingly forgotten about the mysterious bird and instead took purchase weaving between your ankles and rubbing his fur over you, soaking in your scent of outside. 

“Are you stuck,” you lightly ask the bird as if he could answer you. Maybe he had flown into your window by mistake- that happens sometimes in tall buildings right? Birds not telling the difference between open space and glass? But, when you looked at his taloned feet there was nothing constriction him and his body was free of anything binding him too, the evidence was in the way his wings would still occasional expand then fold again. It was like he was inviting you to do something. 

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t speak bird. 

You jumped when its beak opened and a sharp, quick nose came out. A muffled caw! catching you by surprise as you nearly tripped over Taco’s still-weaving body. Then, the bird’s beak came to tap at the metal frame where the lock was. 

Did it want inside? Could you really do that? Let some random bird inside your house after it’s been sitting outside your livingroom window for god knows how long just entertaining your cat while you were gone? 

All probability flew out the proverbial window when you, without thinking, unlatched the window and slid it open allowing the big blackbird to fly right in. You screamed, not in terror, but in more shock as it flew inside and the flap of its wings was louder than you were expecting. 

The bird flew a lap around your living room before coming around to you and landing on Taco’s tower beside your shoulder. It was staring at you at eye level now and you could finally identify the bird as a crow. You knew that crows were intelligent birds, but this was clearly a trained bird, not just some random bird who decided to make a nest in your home for no good reason. 

You flinched for the umptheeth time when the crow’s left wing expanded and exposed half of it’s body. You were fully expecting it to folded up again, but it didn’t. Then you noticed it, a small crimson thread tied around it’s leg with a small dark capsule attached to it. 

You relaxed your shoulders and chuckled. 

“What are you, a messenger pigeon?” You wondered if crows could get offended by the way they can remember faces and whatnot. “That was a joke,” you followed yourself just in case. “Is that for me?” You ask hesitantly and when the crow did not move or make any indication of disagreement, you slowly and as carefully as possible unscrewed the bottom of the capsule and a small rolled-up piece of paper slid out of it. The crow softly folded its wing back up once you screwed the bottom piece back on. 

The paper was thin and rolled expertly like a scroll. You walked over to the coffee table and knelt to unfold it to read. 

My apologies for sending word to you this way! It must have been quite the shock to find a crow hanging around your home, however, I have neglected to ask of any other means of connection to you in our few encounters! If appropriate, how many I contact you from here on out? -K.Rengoku

You re-read the well-written note- scroll? -about three times before you broke down into a fit of laughter, kicking your still-healing foot into the table leg and wincing as the dull throb brought you back to your mind. 

You looked over your shoulder at the crow still perched on the tower and used your hand to pat an empty space on your table. 

“Come down here,” you invite and the crow listened well. Fluttering down easily and its talons clacking satisfyingly on your wooden table. You curled your finger, letting the back of your knuckles run over the bird's feathers careful not to accidentally pluck one. “So, you’re Rengoku’s bir-er-crow?” You corrected yourself midword thinking that just calling the crow ‘bird’ would be a bit demeaning. A soft caw was your answer. 

You looked around your coffee table but found nothing close enough to resemble a piece of paper small enough like his to send on the crows return back. Flipping the tiny-scroll over you decided to just use the back side and the nearest pen you had laying around. 

I knew you were into history, but a messenger crow? Now that’s old school. Does he have a name? 

Beside your short messaged reply, you scribbled your number down in the best handwriting you could muster so there was no way the numbers could be confused with another number. You then tried rolling it back up as expecrtly as it was put in- and failed- before you ended up folding the paper into small enough rectangles it fit inside the capsule just as well as when it was rolled up. You then pet the crow one more time before you walked back toyour window and called for it to sit on the sill. 

“You fly back home safely, okay?” The sun had declared the last lights of dusk before the sky covered your section of the world in a dark blanket and the crow’s dark eyes shimmered in earnest before it cawed once more and took off like a friendly goodbye! to its newfound friend. 

You were practically giddy the rest of the night, skipping around and giving Taco an extra treat or two in your good mood. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this feeling in your stomach, butterflies. As you lay in bed you wonder why it was you were feeling those butterflies that took you back to your high school days with flings and crushes and unrealistic romantic daydreams that would make even the most Christmas-y Hallmark movie plot to shame. 

Followed by the intriguing thought of it was all because of the still semi-stranger man named Rengoku who taught history and also happened to kill demons, the feeling of being on some pranked tv show with hidden cameras felt less and less likely the more time passed. But still- it all sounded so unreal when you thought about it all. 

The next morning, after not remembering when you even fell asleep, you checked your phone to see you had an unread text from an unknown number. You smiled at it, not even bothering to shut off the alarm clock that had woken you up as you quickly saved the number into your contacts. 

(Rengoku) His name is Kaname!

-x-x-x-

a/n pt2) DID YOU MISS ME? I know after such a long wait it's a pretty slow boring chapter, but I think the soft pacing was a good ease back into things.

I dunno where the inspo to finish this chapter even came from, but you won't see me complaining. Lemme know what you guys thought, I know it's been a while since I updated much of anything really, so the feedback is critical!!! and ofc im always up for any ideas y'all could have for the future since we all know how touch and go I am with inspiration lol

if you dont tell me anything, you're fired

[5cookiekitty]

Hello and welcome to my blog. Here I do all type of yandere writing for characters I like. I mostly write for one piece but I do other stuff as well. I'm also under the same name and pfp in quotev and wattpad. I'm also on @5cookiekitty-nsfw

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Meeting of a lifetime-yandere portgas d ace

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Meeting of a lifetime(fic version)-yandere portgas d ace

Kny-Demon Slayer

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Yandere uppermoons x little sister reader

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Yandere alpha ahkmenrah x omega F.reader

[gingerpeachtae]

Incalescent

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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.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Moonlight -x- Sunlight

ch.4 -- Senjuro (cw// banner has flashing text!)

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: modern!au, teacher!kyojuro by day/demonslayer by night, izakayaworker!reader, slowburn?, romance, angst

warning(s): slight mention of bullying :(

w.count: 5k

a/n: *blows so much dust off this thing after i shelved it for a year* Go ahead and revisit the other chapters via the INDEX for your refreshers if you'd like lol

It had been two weeks since you had seen Rengoku. Your ankle had healed, and you were once again fully mobile- much to your relief. You weren’t sure how much more limping around with a cane or crutch you could take. After your ankle healed and you got the all-clear from Kocho, you went through the hoops of making her your primary physician.

You hadn’t ever met a doctor you could be so comfortable around- though the whole bonding over being attacked by a demon probably had everything to do with that. Still, you were pleased with your new doctor, nonetheless. Not to mention, giving your money to a smaller business worked more for your morality than signing it all away to a huge corporation like a hospital that already had more than enough business on its side. 

Rengoku never went a day without sending you texts. You had a feeling he did this with all his friends and acquaintances; texting you a ‘very good morning!’ or asking when you’d be getting off work at night and to be careful on the way. You find it pretty cute. Finding a man as well rounded, optimistic and diligent in the ways of keeping in touch wasn’t exactly something you’d consider common; especially since he didn’t use any sort of abbreviations and spoke in fully formatted sentences like he was standing right in front of you.  

Apparently, with midterms and exams coming up, he’s been busy keeping his students occupied and prepping them for passing grades. That, alongside any extra tutoring lessons or occasional substitute gigs has his days packed. 

“Being a teacher must be tough,” you had thought to yourself during one of your many threads where he explained such things.  

You remember the second time Kaname showed up to your house unannounced. Luckily you were home when he landed on the branch outside your window. Though, that didn’t stop you from being startled at the big black mass that landed and pecked at the window to your living room. You were confused as he hopped right on inside when you opened the glass window before he flew to your couch and just sat himself on the arm of it. You didn’t see anything attached to his leg like before- which would’ve been odd since Rengoku had literally texted you earlier- so you were wondering why he was there in the first place. 

Then your phone dinged.

(Rengoku): Per chance, you haven’t seen Kaname flying around, have you? 

Clearly, Rengoku was also unaware that his crow was hanging around your place. The picture you sent him of the black bird leisurely resting in your living room had him calling you for the first time. It was comical, hearing his voice over speaker phone to reprimand Kaname as if the crow would actually understand what was being said to him and reflect on his actions. 

It obviously didn’t work since the next day Kaname was once again pecking at your window as you got ready to leave the house to run some errands. And you continued to allow him inside. Enabling this behavior is probably the opposite of what Rengoku wanted from his work crow, but were you just supposed to sit and stare at that poor, needy bird out your window? No. Of course you weren’t. 

You were sat on the ground by your door, pulling on your shoes when Kaname had cawed behind you. You made a small noise of surprise before you felt his talons land on the shoulder of your jacket. His added weight on your shoulder and his black avian body perched on you was something he hadn’t done before, but you smiled at the fact this bird was getting more and more comfortable with you. Of course, you would then remember that this was a working bird, and he wasn’t exactly yours. 

“You want to come out with me?” Kaname cawed with a small flap of his wings as if he truly understood your question and was giving you an answer. “Alright. You’ll have to stay outside when I’m in stores though, okay?” Another small flap of his wings. 

You stand and grab your bag, going through the checklist of what you’ll need leaving the house. Phone. Wallet. Keys. And whatever else your bag had hiding inside it. With an impulsion decision, you pull out your phone and take a picture of Kaname resting on your shoulder before sending it to Rengoku- who was probably still working since it was still early afternoon- and slipping your phone in your pocket. 

“Remember to behave, Kaname,” you tell the crow one more time before you leave the house with him remaining perched on your shoulder. 

You thought that having Kaname perched on your shoulder was a cute thing. It showed that he liked you and had- to some degree- grown to trusted you. Having a little friend around for Taco to chase was a bit of an annoying exercise sometimes since the feline must’ve felt jealous. Or that's how you justify the way Taco would crawl up your legs to try and get the same level of attention at the crow. Still, having a smart corvid hang around willingly made you feel… magical? For lack of better terms. If this is what witches in the woods in fairy tales felt like you were more than willing to commit to the bit. 

That is, it’s all comfortable in the comfort of your home. The moment you stepped outside, you could feel the eyes of all the people also on the street focused on you. People from across the street giving you looks like you wouldn’t notice. Kids on playgrounds in the park you had to cross definitely had your face growing warm with the cheers of “that ladies got a big bird on her!”. 

It's silly how you had completely forgotten that it wasn’t exactly a normal, everyday thing to witness.  Still, Kaname remained unbothered. Lucky him. 

It wasn’t like you could shoo him off now. That would’ve made you feel more guilty than embarrassed. No, you couldn’t do that to him. So, instead of acting like a bitter woman, you just lifted your hand and used the back of your fingers to lightly ruffle his feathers just under his beak. His nuzzle into your hand as you gave him attention sealed the deal. 

When you get to the first store you need to stop at- a department store- you point to a small, city planted tree that sat in its own little square of dirt surrounded by brick that really needed to be upkept a bit better. 

“Now, you remember our agreement?” You talk face to face with the bird in broad daylight, not acting like a loon in the least. Still, Kaname bellows back to you like he was agreeing. “Good. I won’t be long.” You turn your back on your trusted corvid pal before you’re walking through the automated glass doors of the store. 

True to your word, you were in and out as quick as you could be- or in this case, as quick as the newly trained cashier who was stressing out over their first real day could go. You made sure to give a quick “you’re doing great” on your way out. When the same automated doors- with a few new smudges from strangers who couldn’t resist touching the clean glass- reopen to let you back outside, you see a small gaggle of teenagers. They surround the same, wimpy looking city planted tree you had left Kaname in, and with their phones out were snapping photos and a video of the cawing bird. 

For a bird, he sure had a lot of personality. Though, you supposed that all birds did in one way or another and crows were already smart to begin with. Though, you felt irritated as they all hovered around him like some sort of attraction. 

Stepping off to the side, you get out of the way of the entrance before you’re calling him. You figured that the kids would probably keep filming and snapping photos, so you turned your back to them before calling him back. Kaname would know the back of your head anyways. 

“Kaname,” you speak clearly. It wasn’t loud, but just enough to be heard over the bustle of the afternoon traffic. The crow’s head twitched before his wings unfurled and he was gliding gracefully over to your shoulder that he favored. With another quick finger pet on the crown of his bowed head, you start off again. You ignore the teens who were hollering after you, feeling like an attraction just as Kaname had been treated as. 

When you finally don’t hear them anymore and make it to a section of street that isn’t so thick with people that you’re stepping on each other, you pat Kaname affectionately on his beak that he once again nuzzles into. 

“I’m sorry about them. Your picture is probably going to be floating around school campus’s now.” Maybe he understood, maybe he didn’t. You didn’t speak crow, so his cawing back to your linguistic woes didn’t spark much need to keep talking. 

You continue your errand running in much the same fashion. Window shopping here, stepping into a small shop there, always leaving Kaname somewhere to wait for you- although this time higher than eye level so he wouldn’t be as bothered by the public. It was when you had just finished your final store run when you felt Kaname tug at your hair after riding on your shoulder for a while. 

“Ow!” You whine when his beak snags some of your hair and tugs on it. You turn to him to try and him to quit it when you see a familiar combination of blond and red. Though, it was atop a much smaller body. 

A small boy, maybe high school aged, has that same flame styled hair that you recognize. He was stuck between two other boys, one with his arms slung around Rengoku’s(?) shoulder. The other was hovering around like he was herding him. The boy who resembled Rengoku looked so uncomfortable that when they rounded a corner, your body just took off after them. 

You were right to trust your instincts. 

The two were classic, low-grade bullies from the look of things. Taking the smaller Rengoku’s bag and shifting through it like they were looking for something. You didn’t even realize that now is the time that schools had released their students for the day. You wanted to help but had no idea how to start. Shouting maybe? A strong Hey! would surely get their attention and maybe little Rengoku, who may not even be related (somehow), could slip away in the distraction. 

Luckily, Kaname disrupted your brainstorming and created an opportunity for you. 

With a loud and crass and angry sounding caw, his wings opened, and he flew towards the two bullies like a graceful, winged bullet. His talon’s had landed in the nest of hair of the boy who had the little Rengoku’s bag, effectively making him drop it. With another warning caw, jumps off his head- taking a few stray hairs with him, and flew up and swooped back down to attack the other boy’s skull with small pecks of his beak. You were in awe. Kaname didn’t even need your help defending the bullied victim! Still-

“Hey!” Your original plan of just shouting was definitely more effective when you had an aggressive black bird on your side. Kaname stopped his pecking and flew back up into the air, circling around before he was landing on your shoulder. His eyes that were gentle and relaxed before were now narrowed and attentive. “Leave that boy alone and get out of here,” you command with your stance wide, and arms crossed with your errand shopping bags hanging in the crux of your elbow. You knew that it wasn’t your demeanor that sent the brats packing, but the aura of the angry corvid that added a boost to your intimidation. 

When they were out of sight, you let out a sigh and you felt Kaname relax too. Uncrossing your ams, you jog over to the boy who was now gathering the things that had fallen out of his backpack. Kneeling on the ground with him, you place your bags down and put your hand gently on his shoulder to get his attention. 

“Hey,” you say again, much softer this time than before when you bellowed it. “Are you alright?” You ask. 

The boy nods and his completely tied back hair, aside from the front strands, bounce as he does. You hear him hum in affirmation too. He did a bad job of convincing you that he was really okay. Still, you give him a moment to collect himself. 

“You’re name,” you start as you pick up a stray pencil that had rolled away from him, “it’s Rengoku, isn’t it?” You were near positive. After all, who else could look so closely related to the Rengoku that you know? When he lifts his head and the eyes that also resemble the ones you know was proof enough. 

“Yes?” He sounded nervous. Rightfully so. You’re quick to defend yourself. 

“Oh! I just- well, you look a lot like someone I know, so I just took a wild guess.” Rengoku had mentioned before that he had a little brother in high school. “He mentioned he had a kid brother once too.” The more you tried to save face, the more awkward the whole thing felt. 

Still, the little boy’s face seemed to relax at the mention of familiar individual. 

“You know my older brother?” 

“Sure do,” you reassure. Helping him pack away the rest of his fallen items into his bag, you pick up your own bags and walk with him back out onto the main street. “Where are you heading? Do you want me to walk you?” Your sudden offer must’ve flustered him since his cheeks went pink. You were still a stranger, so yeah, it was kind of weird. 

“I’m okay!” It sounded like he meant it that time, more so because he was embarrassed and blurted it out in such flustered conviction. “I’m just going home. I’m not far now.” 

You hum worriedly but give in anyway. Then, the familiar weight you had gotten used to on your shoulder departed. Kaname and swapped from you to rest on the head of the smaller Rengoku, using his blonde roots as a nest. You chuckle. Looks like he’d have a well-trained escort home, so you weren’t needed after all. 

“Alright, then. Be careful going home.” He bashfully nods before he’s walking away from you. With a small huff of anxiety for his safety, you check the time on your phone. “Oh, damn!” You curse to yourself before rushing back the way you had come. It had gotten so late that if you didn’t get home soon, you wouldn’t have time to feed and play with Taco before it got dark. He’d pout about that for days if you missed his usual ‘me time’! 

Senjuro walks into the apartment he lives in with his older brother and let out a deep breath as he dropped his bag and sat to remove his shoes. Kyojuro, who had managed to come home earlier than usual by deciding to take the short, 15 question quizzes he had to grade back home with him instead of doing it on school premises, heard the familiar sounds of the front door opening, closing then locking. He didn’t need to go out tonight for demon slaying, so he had already changed into more comfortable clothes by the time Senjuro returned. 

Hair pulled off his neck with a hair tie that was fighting for its life and his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. The sweater he wore was light in color with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows as his lazy, black pants kept his legs warm. The air conditioning was almost always running in the apartment since both boys always seemed to run a bit warming than others.

“You are back early today,” Senjuro greets when the older sibling stood behind him and helped him off the floor when he slipped into his house shoes. Senjuro often wore slippers inside since his feet were always so cold- his older brother was the opposite walking around the apartment barefoot. 

“It isn’t often I can spend so much free time at home,” Kyojuro answers. The two walk deeper into the house when Kaname flies inside and to the wooden perch Kyojuro had set up months ago for him to rest on in the living room. 

The apartment was small, but just enough for the two boys. When Kyojuro had moved out of his family home, he was insistent that Senjuro come with him. Their father wasn’t fit to raise the youngest right now and everyone knew it. 

The main space was open and spacious. A single three cushion couch was in the middle of the open area with a tv mounted on the wall. The small coffee table in front of the couch is scattered with items and random odds and ends that never made it back to their proper place. Behind the couch was a small table that could seat four and was currently covered in the quizzes Kyojuro was previously grading. Beyond the living room was a small kitchen that Senjuro was in charge of since his older brother could not cook to save his life. Just down the short hall were their respective bedrooms, an extra room Kyojuro uses for an office space and the bathroom. 

Just quaint enough for the Rengoku boys. 

Kyojuro took to gathering his graded and ungraded papers into piles so he could make room for the homework of Senjuro’s that would soon be replacing his own mess. He could finish in the office later- his little brother’s studies are more important and this way he could ask questions if he needed help instead of holing up in his room at his own desk. 

Hearing Kaname honk softly for a dried treat, Senjuro is quick to oblige. Kyojuro stops his gathering as he takes his glasses off to have them hang off the v-neck of his sweater instead and crosses his arms. He sets his sights on his faithful crow.

“Where have you been all day?” Kyojuro knew Kaname understood him, and he also knew he could get an answer if the bird felt like he wanted to. Senjuro, who had fed him his treat, ran his hands along his back with the flow of his feathers. Then, the mysterious woman he met today came to his mind. 

“Ani ue,” Senjuro calls out the formality of his brother even though he’s been told time and time again that he doesn’t need to. Still, Kyojuro answers with an acknowledged hum, pushing his slight annoyance at his crow aside. “Have you met a girl recently?” 

The question stuns Kyojuro for a second. Longer than a second actually. Really, the bout of silence that followed the innocent question was long enough to make the air awkward. 

“Could you be more specific?” Kyojuro asked in return. His mind went to a space that his little brother didn’t need to be meddling in. Meeting a woman like… romantically? Or was he just over thinking? 

“In terms of meeting someone new.” 

He was over thinking. 

“Ah,” moron. He curses to himself. “I see.” He racks his brain with a hand at his chin. He often meets all sorts of people at work. New substitute teachers come and go all the time. Maybe he meant one of them? Or maybe… 

Kyojuro’s eyes widen in epiphany as he looks back at Kaname. Senjuro had been in classes all day, as had he been. When he wasn’t busy with his job as messenger bird, Kaname often lazed here at home. There was only one place Kaname had been frequently disappearing to instead of staying in the comfort of his home recently. His arms dropped back down to his sides as he walked closer to his crow and brother. 

“Is there a reason you want to know?” Kyojuro sits on the couch and offers the cushion next to him as Senjuro takes it easily. Slightly facing each other, they carried on their conversation. 

“I dropped my bag on the street today,” Senjuro starts. Kyojuro knew that wasn’t the full truth. As much as he hated it, Senjuro was timid enough to be picked on by other kids and Kyojuro wasn’t always around to help him. “When I was picking up my stuff, this woman came to help me. She knew my name; said I looked like someone she knew.” Senjuro’s habit of picking at his nail beds started up and Kyojuro quietly pulled his hands away from each other. “Kaname was with her too. I was just curious.” 

Kyojuro looked into the wide, curious eyes of his little brother and smiled. He called for his crow, and Kaname easily made a home on the back of the couch between the two siblings. Kyojuro pet Kaname’s back and under his beak, alternating. 

“You were with y/n-san all day weren’t you?” 

“Yes!” The crow loudly cawed. 

“Don’t you go and forget where it is you actually live,” Kyojuro lightly reprimands. “And don’t go speaking around her either. You’ll scare the wits out of her cat.” He returns his attention back to his brother. “To answer your question from earlier now, yes. I do believe I’m familiar with the woman you ran into today." Senjuro took notice to the change in his brother's face. Did he know he was making such a softened expression? "She and I met recently.” 

Something in Senjuro’s eyes shined at the mention of you from Kyojuro’s mouth directly. Maybe it was because he didn’t need to worry about a stranger knowing who he was. Or maybe it was something else Kyojuro just wasn’t picking up on. Senjuro spent a little bit longer talking about you, how you had shopping bags, how Kaname was so comfortably hanging around you, and how you seemed like a nice person. 

Soon, the brother-on-brother chit-chat had to come to a stop. The sun would be setting soon and Senjuro still had homework to do and dinner to make. Kyojuro took his papers to his office and shut the door. Dropping his work on his desk, he flipped on the desk lamp before he sat himself in his chair. The leather creaked at his added weight and the chair reclined when he leaned back against it. 

Digging his phone from his pocket of his slacks, he stared at his reflection in the black screen. Kyojuro really wanted to thank you for helping Senjuro, but for some reason he couldn’t even tap on the screen of his smartphone to wake it up.

Kyojuro wasn’t a religious man, but he did thank whatever god had been watching him when the screen lit itself up with an incoming text. 

(y/n-san): Did Kaname make it back home? 

Kyojuro laughs out loud at your message. Senjuro hears it echo from the kitchen. Kyojuro would get his grading done first, then he'd set aside time for you.

You jump out of your skin when, as you’re mindlessly browsing through your socials, an unexpected call jumps your phone to life in both vibrations and a loud ringtone you had always seem to forget the sound of. Fumbling your phone in your hands, you snatch it up before it could give way to gravity and hit the ground... or Taco who was resting on your lap. 

Seeing Rengoku’s name printed on your screen had you mentally lagging before you’re answering the call. Any later and it would’ve been dropped, then you’d be forced with the dilemma of if you call him back or just pretend it never happened. 

The sound of light white noise greets you for a moment as you bring the phone up to your ear. Then, you start off the call first. 

“Hello?” 

“Ah! You picked up!” He sounded excited. You mindlessly start petting through Taco’s fur as he still lay peacefully on your lap. “I’m glad. I was worried you may be busy given the time.” 

“That makes sense,” you agree. Any other night you’d be just about ready for work. “I have the night off tonight, so your timing works out.” 

“How fortunate!” You’ve never heard someone say those words without it being sarcastic before. He really sounded like he was relieved he wasn’t taking up your time. You smile as you lean back against the cushions of your couch and turn the tv you had on for background noise down. It was turned onto some random celebrity reality show or something, you weren't really paying attention to it. 

“Kaname did make it back safely to answer your earlier question. I apologize I couldn’t reply immediately. I was finishing up some work that I had already stopped in the middle of once.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You shift your legs. Taco mewls in annoyance. “Was it for…?” You didn’t know how to ask if he was talking about his work in education or his demon slaying gig. 

“It was for my classes! Grading quizzes can take up a significant amount of my time. I was also helping my brother with some homework when he needed it!” 

You perk up at the mention of his brother.

“That reminds me,” you start, “I ran into him on the road today. I was out running errands when we met.” 

“Yes,” Rengoku's voice took on a softer tone, “that is one reason I wanted to call you.” You stay quiet. Unsure on what to say next. “Senjuro is a gentle child, so he is easily the target of people who feel the need to push other's around. I feel guilty that he doesn’t express to me all the things that happens, but you helped him out today, yes?” 

“Well, sort of. Kaname did most of the work if I’m being honest.” You stop and think about what happened right before you noticed the little Rengoku- who’s name you now know to be Senjuro. Kaname was tugging at your hair, almost like he was trying to get your attention to shift somewhere else. “Without him, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to chase off those brats myself. So, really the credit is all his.” 

You hear Rengoku chuckle on the other end of the line. It was easy to tell just by his voice and concerned tone alone that Rengoku really cared about his little brother. 

“Does your brother do any after school clubs?” 

“Pardon?” The question caught the flame-head off guard. 

“I just- and stop me if this is totally invasive- but I thought that maybe if he needed, I could check on him from time to time after school. Just to make sure he’s not being bullied?” Saying it out loud made you realize just how crazy you sounded.  It sounded like you were trying to butt into their lives! “I’m sorry. It’s just I’m usually free in the afternoons and all so-” 

“I’d appreciate that.” 

“Oh,” you breathe. You half expected him to kindly reject you as you shoved your foot further into your big mouth. “Really?” 

“Senjuro sometimes spends time in the school’s library until I’m ready to go home with him. On the days where he or I cannot go back home together, I do worry about him. I know he'll need to defend himself one day, but he’s still young.” 

There’s a bout of silence between you both for an uncomfortable amount of time. You wonder if the call disconnected at one point because it was so quiet. Still, the time recording the length of the call kept ticking up, so Rengoku was definitely still on the other line. 

“So,” you clear your throat. “Senjuro-kun likes to read?” 

“He does!” The pep is thrust back into his voice and you feel relieved. 

The call lasts for much longer than you anticipated. So long that Taco had gotten off your lap, paced around the couch twice, ran up and down the halls and whined for food all the span of it. You don’t remember the last time you had a long phone call that wasn’t work or business related. Even the few previous calls you've recieved from Rengoku weren't this drawn out. It was enjoyable.

You notice the numbers glaring at you from the clock of your living room and gasp. It was getting late. Really late. And Rengoku- even if he wasn’t working tonight- had classes tomorrow. 

“It’s getting late,” you find the next best gap in conversation and throw in the beginning of the end of the call. “Shouldn’t you be getting some rest? It wouldn’t be good for a teacher to be dead tired all day because he was up so late.” 

“Believe it or not, I’m not a morning person at all! Senjuro brews me coffee every morning since I tend to be grumpy from the long nights I should be used to by now.” 

You laugh at the image. You don’t think you’ve seen him frown once since you met him- even if it hasn’t been that long. 

“Even more reason to let you go.” You get up off the couch and stretch. As if predicting your moves, Taco races towards your room ahead of you. Of course, you’d wash up properly before joining your feline son. “I enjoyed talking to you, Rengoku-san.” 

“You don’t need to be so polite,” he insists. “Referring to me by name alone is just fine.” 

“You’ll need to drop the formalities with me too then. It’d be weird if I spoke casually with you, just for you to not.” 

“Deal.” 

“Good night, Rengoku.” 

“Sweet dreams, y/n.” 

The call ends. Even though you wash your face with cold water, your skin still feels warm in your palms. 

a/n: wow i can't wait for next year when i get around to writing another chapter (is this satire? who knows)

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Hiiiiiiii 👋 just recently came across ur blog and I absolutely love your writings. Soo i was wondering if you could do kyojuro with reader who has some scars on her face (got them from a demon when she was younger) and wears a mask to hide it. But then fire boii reassures her that she is beautiful with or without scars. ( Could you include senjuro too 👉👈) fluffy pls

unmasked in candlelight

r.kyojuro / f.reader

genre: fluff, cheesy with an extra side of cheese

warning(s): vauge descriptions of childhood injuries/demon attack, scars (duh), a little bit of trauma healing mentioned, y/n is insecure without her mask :((, senjuro is about as precious as ever, kyojuro finds out you like him and doesn't believe he likes you back and goes 'not on my watch >:(', y/n get a bit overwhelmed and :((, but it's all okay!! happy ending :D

w.count: 5k

synposis: you were taken in by the Rengoku family after a demon attack as a child. it was no surprise you grew up admiring the olderest son and eventually developing feelings. you try and squash those feeling down, and he'll take those feelings and raise them up himself if he has to; by any means necessary

-x-x-x-

a/n: i will not apologize for how carried away i got with this one LMAO and once again since you used 'her' in the request, this y/n is female!! thank you for requesting ^^ (ngl i hope i hit the actual point you wanted from me oml)

-x-x-x-

It was warm on the day you were attacked. Warm, but cloudy- sky covered in a full overcast.

You were just a child, walking hand in hand with your father as he was coming back from fishing. He was your only guardian since your mother had passed, but you weren't lonely and he did the best he could to take care of you. He carried his fishing hook and line over his shoulder and a small twined basket of fish along with it.

You were going on about one of the fish he had caught that you swore was bigger than you, even though that wasn't the case at all. He listened and humored you regardless. You weren't the wealthiest family, but you managed and you were happy.

It's crazy how fast things can change.

You weren’t sure how fast it happened, but you were overly aware of the fact that your father was lying away from you on the ground. Unmoving and deathly quiet just moments after he was talking and walking with you so cheerfully. He was laying in something, a puddle but it hadn’t rained in days and the fish you both had caught that day was spilled onto the ground around him. Then you were pinned down, something obscuring you view of the cloudy sky as a searing pain slashed across your face.

You just remember screaming and crying and pain before that looming threat that hunched over you was gone and you were in the arms of a stranger. Then you were wearily crawling over to your father, trying to wake him up before you were taken away to some strange place with even more strange people.

You just wanted your dad back.

-x-x-x-

You were gently woken up by two shakes on your shoulder. Cracking your eyes open, you were first met with the familiar darkness of the mask that constantly sat on your face before you were looking through the eyeholes and to the face of the person waking you up. Your mask has maintained the same design ever since you got one as a child- having a new, bigger one made each time it got too small.

Two small fox ears on the top and markings around the eyes with the bottom broken off. You’ve changed a lot ever since you first put the first mask on as a child. In the beginning you wouldn’t even speak without it- and even then, when it was on you were still fairly soft spoken. It took a long time before you were finally comfortable enough to start talking again after the incident.

You groan before raising your arms in the air, stretching the fatigue away from your bones as the boy who had woken you sits back in front of you. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, the weather was just so nice it was like the sun was laying a blanket over you and tucking you in as you leant against a tree in the Rengoku resident yard.

It was the youngest Rengoku son who had shaken you awake and was now patiently waiting for you to fully wake up. You smile at him as you reach up to place your hand on top of his head. The sun had warmed the golden roots of his hair.

“I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep,” you laugh lightly as Senjuro smiles back to you. There were few people who knew what you looked like under your mask since you dislike going without it even as an adult. The nagging feeling of people's opinions, judgment and scrutiny still feared you even if the few members of the corps had told you scars on civilians weren't so uncommon. Senjuro was one of those few people.

“Brother asked me to come and find you. He's been assigned a new mission and wants us to see him off before he goes.” You listen to his words as you adjust your slightly off kilter mask and remove any tangled hair that had flipped over it from the wind.

“I see,” you tell him. Taking your hand back from his head, you brace both on the ground below you to stand up on your feet, Senjuro doing the same. “It’s quite a shame that he has to leave so soon after returning. I know you miss him when he’s gone.” The younger boy sheepishly takes your hand, a habit he’s had since he was younger.

You couldn’t remember when or why, but ever since you were young after the attack you suffered with your father, you had found residence in the Rengoku home despite not being of it’s bloodline.

You weren’t sure if it was your childhood fear of the traumatic event, or the lengthy amount of time it took for you to come to terms with the fact that your father wouldn’t be coming back- but you had been brought here. After that you just began living among the family.

You had even managed to form a bond with Ruka, the late mother of the Rengoku sons, before she passed. It broke your heart to loose a guardian so quickly after the loss of your father, but you held yourself together for the two children she was leaving behind. They had known her much longer than you obviously and had been birthed by her- her passing must’ve been especially hard on them in comparison.

Then, of course you had to sit and watch as day after day Shinjuro- their father- fell further and further from the passionate father, teacher and hashira he used to be. He was so full of life and passion and love, but after Ruka died, he started dying too. You took it upon yourself to step up and start taking care of the house you lived in on your own.

You weren’t a member of the corps, but you had basic defensive training at the insistence of Kyojuro.

“Even if you do not fight demons like I, it is important to know how to protect yourself from danger!” He had told you.

You spent your days cleaning and making sure the estate was always in prime condition. You cooked meals together with Senjuro and would experiment with foods and dishes all the time with Kyojuro as the typical taste-tester.

When Kanroji was training under Kyojuro, she also became a resident tester of foods and would always praise you. You and her would often speak a lot when she was over- that is if she wasn’t being trained into the ground by Kyojuro’s strict training regiment.

It was rare another woman would come by the house, so it was a welcome friendship. You still exchange letters with her regularly.

Opposingly, from the warmth you tried to keep in the home, you also tried your best to keep Shinjuro on his feet. All he did was drink and laze and drink some more. His grief took over every corner of his heart and turned him into a violent, harsh man. Every time you’d sit in his quarters, silent or not, you would look at his back in pity.

How much it hurt you to see the man who used to treat his sons with such warmth fall so far. Though, you empathize with him. You were cold and distant when your father was killed- even if you were young. So, you always held out hope he’d bounce back.

You always hated when people would compare you to Ruka as the ‘woman of the house’ since it just never felt right. You were not a Rengoku, and you had no romantic relations with the eldest son that would allow you to even think about taking that title.

Even if you desired him.

You let Senjuro lead you back inside and to the front entrance where Kyojuro stood, slipping the sheath of his nichirin sword into the secure hold of his white belt. He breaks into a wide smile when he sees the both of you approaching. He makes it very clear to everyone in the world that he absolutely plays favorites when it comes to both you and Senjuro.

The women in the village would tease about you two becoming wed one day, but you would always brush them off as casually as you could. You may desire him, but you were convinced that he always saw you as a sister since he had grown up with you. It always sends a pang through your chest every time you think about it, so you wish one day they stop bringing it up.

“Did you enjoy your nap outside?” He asks you and you tilt your head at him. He laughs at your confusion. He could read you well after all these years together, even if only your mouth and chin were visible to his eyes. “I passed by you earlier, sleeping peacefully under the tree.”

“Oh,” you laugh, thankful for the mask at hiding your embarrassment that no doubt showed on your face. “Well, I had an unpleasant dream actually.” Senjuro’s grip on your hand tightens and he tugs on your arm slightly. You look down at him to see his face painted with worry. Similarly, Kyojuor’s smile dips at your admission.

“Are you alright?” The younger asks and you just smile and nod down at him. You grip his hand back in two tight, reassuring squeezes.

“Yes. I’m alright. I don’t even remember what it was about now.” You lift your head when you hear Kyojuro’s kasugai crow cawing from outside the entrance door. You look at the still frowning hashira and huff with that same smile on your lips. “Good gracious, you don’t believe me?”

“It isn’t that I do not believe what you say,” he says, walking to the genkan’s edge and making sure not to step up into the house since he had already placed his footwear on. He reaches up to run the back of his fingers along your mask where he knows your scars lay hidden beneath it. “I worry because I know that your nightmares can be… unpleasant.”

It was actions like these that made your heart stir and your gut tumble like weeds in a windstorm. He acts like you are precious to him, more than just a sibling, but you had to squash that feeling- those damn feelings- down. Kyojuro is a demon slayer, a hashira and far too busy succeeding his family to ever develop romantic feelings for you.

You grab his wrist and slowly push it down and away from you.

“I’m alright. I promise.” You hear his crow once again and chuckle. “You should go before your crow flies in here and drags you out.” That earns you a laugh and makes his frown disappear. Kyojuro grabs your hand and places his other hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I’ll be going now.”

“We’ll see you when you get back, brother.” Senjuro says as the hand on his shoulder squeezes in affection. In turn, he squeezes the hand he holds of yours when you tell him to be safe. Then, he’s gone once more. You turn to Senjuro, kneeling to his level.

“What do you say we go make something to eat? I’m quite hungry after sleeping.” He easily agrees, and your normal days continue as you both head to the kitchen to distract yourself from your burning hand; both trying to will away the touch of Kyojuro as well as preserve it.

-x-x-x-

It is a week later when Kyojuro returns home. Usually, his missions line up back to back so he’ll easily be gone anywhere between weeks to months with only letter exchanges with you and Senjuro. So, having him return so early was odd and a little concerning.

Senjuro had just gone to bed when Kyojuro had entered his family home after nightfall. You were in the kitchen sitting in the small flickering light of one candle with a book in your hands. You would often read to pass the time before bed since it was something that usually made you sleepy. Of course, since you were the only one awake, and reading through the eye holes of your mask in the dark was a rather irritating task, you had taken it off. It sat on the table not far from reach beside the metal holder the candle sat on as it caught the melting, dripping wax.

You jumped when you noticed him standing in the doorway like a shadow. You nearly throw your book at him and placed a hand over your chest.

“Kyojuro!” You hiss as he laughs before entering and pulling up a chair. He scoots it closer to sit in front of you just close enough that you were within arm distance. “You really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” you scold.

“My apologies,” he chuckles. “I did not expect to see you awake.”

“It isn’t that late,” you roll your eyes with a smile before placing a piece of long paper with a tied string on it in your book and shutting it. You instinctively twitch to grab your mask, but ultimately leave it on the table, as you look back to Kyojuro who has given you his undivided attention. He seems pleased you don't put it on. “You’re back home quickly this time. You aren’t injured are you?”

He shakes his head, sitting up straighter. “I am not! Although, you’re welcome to check yourself if you don’t believe me.” He's more than likely teasing you, but you thank the dim lighting in the kitchen for mildly obscuring your face regardless.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” It’s silent for a while, save the flickering crackles of the candle, as you sit in each other’s presence. You lightly giggle among the silence and Kyojuro is pushing a brow up in curiosity. “It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken without Senjuro between us, hasn’t it?” The oldest son then smiles and agrees.

“Yes, it has. He sure has taken quite the liking to you over time.”

“After all these years, I should hope so. If he didn’t like me, I’d be worried he was scared of me.”

“Scared? What about you could possibly be scary?”

“Ah,” you squeak. You hadn’t meant to say that. You unconsciously bring a hand to the left side of your face. Three long, jagged scars ran from your left ear and scratched all across your cheekbone to just under the center of your eye. “I guess- I just meant that I’m glad these don’t scare him. My face, I mean,” you stumble. “It’s not a very pretty face for a lady.”

“I disagree!” His tone made you jolt in your seat. They were hard syllables, spoken with a firm tone that had you fumbling over your own words of confusion. They left no room for argument as they were spoken. “Neither Senjuro nor myself have ever been scared of you before. These scars,” he speaks as he reaches across the table to run the back of his fingers across them. It was the same motions he did to your mask. “These scars may be a sign of your losses, but they are not ugly.”

“Kyojuro, you don’t-”

“I am not just saying this to ease you.” You clamp your mouth shut again. “I understand you are uncomfortable with them, I truly do. I just wish you wouldn’t harbor yourself so negatively because of them.” He could feel how hot your face was growing under his fingers. “Truthfully, I find your face to be quite pretty as it is.”

Normally, you would graciously accept his compliment- if not stutter over your thanks. However, for some reason tonight, you just deflect it entirely.

“You might think so, but others aren’t so kind hearted.” You keep your hands in your lap, holding tightly to the night robes you wore. You wanted so badly to hold his hand against your face and keep it there forever, but you resisted. “The Rengoku family has always been so kind to me, and the corps may be familiar with scars, but the rest of Japan is not so kind. A lady with a damaged face has little to no hope of marriage.”

“Marriage?” Kyojuro’s eyebrows jump and his voice drops. “Have you been thinking of such a thing?”

“Well, I mean-,” you flustered and fidget. “I cannot stay here forever, can I?” You bitterly laugh. You’d love to. To stay with Senjuro and Kyojuro for however long your life lasts. Cooking and eating and worrying together with them. Hoping to see the day Shinjuro wakes from his veil of sorrow and becomes the active head of the family again. Wishing to see the three males together again as a proper family.

You aren’t aware of your tears until Kyojuro is out of his seat and kneeling in front of you. He’s holding both of your cheeks in his hands now, swiping the salty droplets away before they can drip off your chin. They stain his hands and the warmth of them almost burns his fingers as they slid down his skin.

He did not like it when you cried.

“You’ve done enough for me,” you sniffle, coming to terms that one day you’ll need to leave. “I don’t want to keep depending on all of you like this.”

“It is alright to depend on others, y/n.” He soothes. You shake your head in his cradle.

“All I’ve done since I was a child was depend on your family, Kyojuro. I am not a Rengoku.” You choke. You’ve always known that, always admitted to yourself in your head to keep yourself straight and in line. To keep yourself from crossing any lines or boundaries you did not need to. But, saying it out like that hurt so much.

You cry like a child as Kyojuro kneels in front of you. His hands slide from your cheeks and move to cup over your tightly fisted hands that hold tightly onto your robes.

In truth, the reason he had come home so quickly was because of something Kanroji had relayed to him. She had let it slip that in one of the letters you had exchanged with her, you had vented the same dilemma to her. The fear of leaving one day, the fear of never getting married. The fear of not belonging in this house anymore.

Of course, Kanroji had sent him the letter you wrote all these in via kasugai crow. As he read it, he had given pause when his eyes scanned over the fact you had admitted to her the feelings you held for him. Perhaps Kanroji did not remember you had poured your heart out in the form of ink, but there it was. Reading an indirect confession of your feelings and how you thought he thought of you as yet another sibling like Senjuro made him quickly finish his assignment and race back home; race back to you.

The reason he rushed home was to try and clear up the misunderstanding. To confirm your feelings along with making you understand his own.

Those words, ‘not a Rengoku’, flowed into his ears and straight down to his heart. You were crying, weeping right in front of him and he- for once- was speechless. He watched your tears drop from your face and onto your robes where they left small wet blotches in your lap.

“Would you like to be?” He whispers under the sound of your pain. You sniffle once, voice cracking when you speak up again.

“What?”

He takes a deep breath in and squeezes his eyes shut, his very core suddenly being engulfed with anxiety. It was not like him to be anxious, but this was gut-wrenching. It felt like his heart was stuck in his throat as he tried to swallow it back down to his chest where it belonged.

“A member of this family,” he breathes out softly. His eyes open and he lifts his head to look at you properly. Your eyes were swollen and the tip of your nose looked raw with all your sniffling. “Would you like to become one?”

“Wha- but how,” you sniffle. Your teary eyes and even tearier brain not putting together the real question he was asking you. You were too tired for this-

“Marry me.”

-then, you were suddenly far too awake for this.

You sniffles halt, your breath does too, and your eyes widen. The tears stop momentarily as the remains of them drip off your eyelashes. It was silent for a moment as you stared down at him. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. He looked serious. Dead serious.

“What did you say?” You hiccup and swallow once, your tears making your throat hoarse and dry. “Did you just... ask me to- to marry you?”

“I did.”

“B-but you don’t-”

“Yes, I do.” He interrupts. He knew you were going to rebuff it with a weak excuse of him not holding feelings for you. “It is true that I am busy as hashira, but I am not too busy for you. I do not hold so many responsibilities that I am unable to be wed.” He chuckles briefly. “In fact, Uzui has three wives.”

“Three?!” You squeal, momentarily forgetting the sadness as your brain replaces it with shock. You didn't even know the sound hashira was married at all, much less to three different women!

“Yes, three!” He laughs, easily opening your hands and letting your fingers curl around his hands instead of into your robes. “So, marriage isn’t impossible.” He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles and stares at them. It was those hands that took care of his family when he couldn’t and he couldn’t be more grateful for them. “The other hashira may not marry and that is their choice, but that doesn’t mean I do not have to. I would jump at the chance to make you my wife.”

He feels the sweat gathering at his hairline and it suddenly feels too hot with his haori on his shoulders. The silence was eating him alive as he kept his eyes on your hands.

Oh, god, he’s never felt this nervous in his life.

Twenty years and his most anxious moment on this planet was asking you to marry him out of the blue. After this night, he hopes to never feel nervous ever again, because he’s feeling enough of it right now to fill in for the rest of his lifetime and beyond it.

“Do you mean it?” You whimper and he finally looks up at you. “I really, really love you, you know? I don’t think of you like I do Senjuro.”

“I know.”

“I really- wait?” You halt. “You.. you know? How?!” Your tears and doubts are replaced with more fluster and he bites back a laugh. Would it be inappropriate to laugh right now? Instead, his lips twitch, but curl upwards.

“Kanroji.” That was all he had to say before you understood.

“My letter?” You squeak out. “You read it?”

“That would be correct, my Dear.”

“Damn you Misturi,” you hiss, and that he did laugh at. Though, he laughs shortly and soon returns back to the issue at hand.

“Why did you never tell me? It sounds like you’ve been through a lot for quite a while.”

“How could I just come out and tell you that I’m in love with you?!” You burst. “You’ve grown up with me, there was no way you saw me as anything other than another sibling!”

“I do not consider you a sibling at all!” He corrects. “I do not think I ever have. The way I feel about you is something completely its own. It is not the same type of affection I hold for my younger brother or the affection I feel towards my mother. Nor is it friendly affection either.” He lets one of your hands go and brings it back to the left side of your face, the beautifully scarred side of you. “My Dear, I am in love with you just as you are with me. So, won’t you marry me?”

You’re crying again and he almost joins in your tears when you nod. Over and over again you nod, too choked up to speak.

He chuckles softly before he’s standing and bringing you up by soft tugs of your hands to your feet with him, before pulling you into his chest. He holds you like he’s always wanted to, shushing into your hair to try and quell your cries. He even sways you gently to and fro. His eyes almost roll back as he finally basks in you the way he’s wanted to for so long.

“You better not be lying,” you sniffle once your cries devolve. He laughs above your head, still soothing it down.

“Have I ever lied to you before?” Your silence is answer enough. “That is what I thought.” He pulls you away from his chest before he’s using his sleeve to rub at the dried tear tracks that hadn’t already run into the fabric of his uniform. He bends his knees to come eye level with you and laughs at the clear embarrassment on your face. “You look like a mess, my Dear.”

You pout at him before you grab the front of his uniform to keep him close to you. “That isn’t very nice.”

“Apologies,” he offers playfully. Once he’s done lightly scrubbing at your face, he brushes his lips across all three of your scars. From your cheekbone to your ear and he feels a bit bashful himself when he pulls away and sees you nearly imbalanced from the physical affection. “It is late,” he whispers before he grabs the candle hostler from the table. “Come, I’ll walk you to your room.”

The short escort was quiet as he held onto your hand and when he left you outside your door he kissed your scared cheek once more and you retired for the evening. Kyojuro didn’t sleep early that night, too giddy to even close his eyes.

-x-x-x-

The next morning, you woke up without your mask. Panic races through you before you remember it was still sitting on the kitchen table with your left book. Your face burns when you remember the previous night and Kyojuro's rather bold declarations. You didn't dream all that, did you?

As you enter the kitchen to retrieve your familiar mask, you are met with Kyojuro in his night robes already present with a clay mug of tea in his hand. His presence solidified the doubt that you did not dream up last night's proposal. He was quick to flit over to your side and kiss your scarred cheek once again before you can cover it.

“Good morning, my Dear,” he beams and you smile back at him- albeit a bit bashfully. He seems to be expressing himself easily with the new found romantic affection he could finally show off.

“Good Morning to you,” you reply gently.

“Y/n!” Senjuro’s voice calls from behind you and you twist away from Kyojuro to see the smaller version of him smiling up at you, his smile even more gleeful than usual. Is it because you still haven't put on your mask that he seems so bright? “I’m glad to see you without your mask this morning!”

“Isn’t she beautiful!” Kyojuro pipes up before he and his brother begin going on about how you didn’t need your mask at all with such beauty as what you possess. You just go about your business and grab your mask between their conversing.

Later that morning, Kyojuro tells his brother that he plans on marrying you over breakfast. Senjuro cries and is nearly toppling over himself as he moves to come closer to you to wrap his small arms around your shoulders. He's over the moon at the fact that you’ll finally be his older sister, and not just hypothetically. A real, true, older sister with his family's name.

Kyojuro had taken the liberty of addressing the situation with his father. He figures you’ve been through enough as it is. He had full faith his father wouldn’t lash out, but the topic of marriage might trigger something. He didn’t want to risk your safety- even if it was an extreme case.

He sat behind his father who lay facing away from his oldest son. He stared out the open doors that lead out to the engawa, letting in the late morning sun.

“Father. Y/n and I have decided to get married.” There was no response. “It is something we both desire, and we will become wed with or without your approval.” Still nothing.

He sat for a while. He had always spoken to his father the same way he did as a child. With a smile and proud discipline. This, however, he was firm about. If Shinjuro had anything against the both of you becoming engaged, that still would not deter him. After many minutes of nothing, he closed his eyes and stood to his feet. There was no point in sticking around for nothing.

“Excuse me.”

As he stood in the threshold of his father’s quarters, he heard a grunt behind him. A very faint, short, and gruff reply came to Kyojuro’s back.

“Congratulations.”

Kyojuro turned, facing towards the inside of the room and to the same back of his father he always looked at before bowing deeply. He slides the door shut and stands silently for a moment with his chin still down. He soon picks his chin up before he was walking briskly through the halls, a grin so wide it threatened to split his face right in two.

When he sees you again, you’re already sweeping the stone path in the entrance. He cheers when he sees you and as you turn to his call. Your mask has already been placed back on your face. He hopes one day you will one day put your long-term mask to rest, but he knows it will take more than a sudden, tearful, overnight engagement to fix all your wounds.

Regardless, he smiles and quickly comes to your side.

“There is my fiancé!” You swear the whole village could hear his words, what with how loud he was shouting them.

-x-x-x-

a/n pt.2: i got sO carried away and ended up throwing in a proposal LMAO i hope you still enjoyed it regardless haha :DD I rly liked writing this one !!!!

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

a/n: this was originally the final scene of my rengoku fic unInterested, but at the last minute i cut it since i thought it was already getting out of hand >< its not very long, but it's very sweet imo!! enjoy ^^ (i recommend reading unInterested before this extra scene since it falls at the tail end of that fic, but if for some reason you don't, the reader is female! so, keep that in mind)

w.count: 1.1k (i rly thought it'd be shorter-oops)

-x-x-x-

As the boys' all finally settled down for a relatively peaceful meal with small chit-chat going back and forth between the two Rengoku sons and mainly Tanjiro. Zenitsu was busy happily eating the food you had prepared and Inosuke was doing relatively the same- but messier. Afterwards, they had insisted that they clean up since it was you who had brought the food to begin with.

Tanjiro and his group had taken your, no empty, bento tiers and left towards the kitchen, led by Senjuro as the idle chatter grew distant. Rengoku had excused himself for some reason or another telling you to relax for a moment while the rest of them are out. He probably went out to finally address his father that he was at the estate for the moment- not like he'd get anything in return.

You sat in the room by yourself as you took a deep breath.

Today had been exhausting to say the least. You haven't spoken to so many people for such a lengthy duration of time in a long time. After all the time you spent to yourself during your time in the corps, it took a tole on you to forcefully be social like this. But, you had to do your best in order to keep the mood from getting dreary on Senjuro's birthday.

Now that you were faced with peace and quiet, faced with momentary solitude, you let your shoulders sag and repositioned your legs that were folded under you. You even scooched yourself back against a wall to rest further. As you listened to the sounds coming from outside, you felt yourself start nodding off.

Naturally, you knew you shouldn't just fall asleep in someone else's house- much less a hashira's home during someone else's day of celebration. And although you knew that, you could hardly twitch your fingers or concentrate long enough to even try to stay awake.

You remember mentally telling yourself to stay awake- regardless of all your fatigue- before your eyes shut and your head fell back against the wall and your cheek falling to your shoulder.

Rengoku had left his father's quarters with a small sigh before he was shaking any bitter thoughts about the man he used to admire so much from his mind. He had no business dwelling on the past- especially today. Coming back around to the room you and the boys' had claimed for socializing, he cocked his head seeing the group of all four young men stood in the doorway.

Tanjiro's hand was slapped over Inosuke's mouth as he muffled what were probably demands to get his hand off his face, as Zenitsu aggressively shushed him. Senjuro himself looked a bit flustered, cupping his chin and looking back and forth before he smiled at the sight of his elder brother returning.

"What's the matter?" The older asked as he approached the group.

"Well, it's y/n-san," Senjuro started, looking back into the room. Rengoku easily looked past the group as he towered over them and looked into the room. His eyes widened a fraction at seeing you leaning against the wall, sleeping peacefully.

Rengoku smiled softly at your form. All this noise and socializing must have really tired you out.

"Should we leave her?" Senjuro's voice interrupted his thoughts as he looked down at his brother. He shook his head in two short shakes before politely stepping past the group of boys and entering the room.

He came to kneel at your side, seeing you breathe in even breaths and noticed that even in your slumber you maintained the swordsman breathing techniques used to strengthen demon slayers in combat. Mastering a breathing technique was an impressive feat, even in your sleep.

"We shouldn't let a lady sleep in such a noisy room, especially in a position like this," he almost whispered. As a naturally loud individual, it was quite different hearing him so quiet. "She'll wake up uncomfortable if we allow her to continuing sleeping here."

Before anyone could ask him if he was going to wake you up since he says you shouldn't sleep there like that, he was extending his arms towards your body.

One of his came around your shoulders, gently lifting you off the wall and towards himself, curling his hand up and against your head to push it towards his shoulder instead of limping hanging in the opposition direction. The other maneuvered your legs and bent them at the knees so he could hook his arm under them before easily lifting you. Your body naturally fell further against his chest as your head fell under his chin.

You were quiet warm to hold. And the pressure of your weight in his arms made him feel comfort somehow.

He turned around, walking back to the doorway as the boys' all stepped aside to let him pass.

"I'll take her to a vacant room to rest. You boys' please keep Senjuro company until I return." They easily agreed as they all reentered the room that was now vacated of your sleeping presence before Rengoku made his way to the room he used while he was growing up and that he still used now on his visits back home.

His room was a vacant room after all.

Making it inside, he laid you on the floor before he was quickly and quietly unfolding the futon from the closet and placing you on it before pulling the covers over your body to your shoulders. With you comfortable and still very much asleep, Rengoku sat beside you, his knees bent under himself and his fists lightly curled and resting atop his knees.

It was odd, the sense of peace he felt as he watched your sleep. It was like he wanted to be sure you'd be able to rest easy in his home and he hoped that was the case. He wondered if you were comfortable enough in his home to fall asleep like this or if you were just so exhausted from today that you couldn't help it.

He wondered if you were comfortable enough around him to fall asleep like this in front of him again should you need the rest.

At the smallest hint of a crease in your brow, he was reaching over your forehead and placing his naturally warmer than average palm over your skin. His thumb absent mindedly stroking along your hairline.

"Be easy," he whispered, like he was trying to soothe your already unconscious mind and keep you resting. Even when your face relaxed again, he kept his hand on your head. Something about soothing you, soothed himself as well. "Rest as much as you like, I will be here when you awaken."

And there he stayed, by your side until your eyes did eventually slide open again. Greeting you with a smile and a warm palm on your head. Even if you immediately felt embarrassed.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Misdirected

Ok so if you're not sick of our reqs yet can I have one where y/n one night comes home drunk on sake after having been out with friends and Kyo gets extremely irritated/mad at the sight and they end up fighting but she doesn't fully understand what's going on cause she obv has never met his dad? Thank you 🥺

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: hurt/comfort

warning(s): drinking (alcohol/sake), angy-himbo rengoku, misdirected rage, big sad times uhoh

w.count: 3.3k

synopsis: you hadn't meant to drink as much as you did when you were out, but you got too carried away in the fun with your friends. when you come home, you were surprised to see kyojuro had come back to your home. the argument that ensued before you could even greet him made you think maybe you hadn't come back home at all

-x-x-x-

a/n: no words, lets just dive rigHT IN SHALL WE

-x-x-x-

Stupid. This was just so... stupid.

Why did a night out with your friends filled with a good time and some sake turn into a nightmare as soon as you stepped into your home? When had Kyojuro come back home and why did he leave you again after getting so angry with you? Just what did you do and why did he have to keep bringing up his father?

Did you do something wrong?

-x-x-x-

You felt light as you walked yourself home after visiting with a few friends passing through your town. It wasn't very often that you got the time to go out and enjoy yourself since your friend circle was small, and the amount of free time was smaller. So, when you had the opportunity to have a little bit of fun, you jumped on it.

It was just a little get-together with three other women around your age you had met around and some sake to keep you all entertained. You tried to manage your drinking, but between the conversations and the overall fuzzy atmosphere created from the enjoyment, you ended up overindulging in your share a bit.

Your cheeks felt like they had embers lit beneath them and your head a bit fuzzy as you walked carefully back to your home, very insistent that you could handle yourself. Your little village town was about the safest place you've ever lived. Sober or intoxicated, you had no fear of walking alone at night regardless of your state of mind.

When you make it back to your home, you shut the door behind you and lean on it as you try and kick your footwear off in the genkan. Amidst your fumbling, you noticed a set of red-accented sandals. The drunken buzz that fizzles your head had a dopey smile stretch across your face as you entered your house.

You hadn't expected Kyojuro to be home. He had recently left to go back to his family estate before departing on yet another string of missions. You hadn't expected to see him back at your home for perhaps a month at the longest. It had been just over two weeks, so his early return had you rushing inside to find him.

"Kyojuro!" You call throughout the house and before long he's popping around a corner. Even in the dark hall, his flame-mimicked hair seemed to glow like a candle. "Welcome ba-" your greeting is interrupted by your clumsy steps not exactly cooperating with your drunken brain.

You trip, trying to catch yourself in short, quick stomps, but eventually crash into Kyojuro as he's quick to catch you under your elbows and close to his chest.

"You're quite clumsy this evening," you hear him chuckle above you. He straightens you back up and you step back to give him a little space as you try and fix yourself. Then, you start rambling about your night. About how you went to meet with your friends after quite a while of not having the time to do so, and how you had a good time with them.

Within all your talking, your gaze kept wandering around. From your hands, as you counted down on your fingers on all the stuff you did, to the house around you, and even picking small pieces of lint you saw on Kyojuro's uniform he still had not changed out of. But not once did you look up to Kyojuro's face.

So, you naturally don't notice how his near-permanent smile dipped.

"Y/n," he interrupts you. You didn't pick up on the harsh tone he has slightly adapted as you lifted your chin up to properly look at him. Seeing him looking so displeased, your lips started to mimic his own in a worrisome frown.

"Kyojuro? You look-"

"Did you drink tonight?" His sudden question had you confused. Now that you were properly looking at him, he could see your answer written all over your face before you confirm it. Your eyes were dazed and glazed over like you weren't all there- a look he was familiar with. And he noticed that your small swaying wasn't just because you had tripped, it was because you weren't in the proper state of mind to stay well-balanced.

His jaw clenched as you tilted your head and put a small, unsure smile back on your face.

"I did. Izu really wanted to-" you try and start-up yet another story with one of your aforementioned friends. Particularly one about how one of them had a skill for drinking even some men under the table. Though Kyojuro interrupts again- something that made even your drunken self a bit irate.

"How much?" This time you take into account the sharp tone of his voice and your brow quirks. Was he angry about something?

"I don't think I drank that much. I just lost track-"

"That isn't an answer."

"Would you stop interrupting me," you bit. You scow and stomp your foot as you weakly push his arms away from you, making you teeter off before you corrected yourself. You can help but noticed that Kyojuro hadn't even twitched towards you when you stumbled over yourself- like he had no intentions of helping you a second time if your balance disappears.

"I asked you a question."

"And I answered it!" You whine. You never considered yourself to be slotted into a category of specific drunks since you drank so scarcely. But, right now, you felt like you fell very heavily on the emotional side of things. You take a breath, shakily. "Is something wrong?"

Kyojuro crosses his arms over his chest as he keeps staring down his nose at you. It was like he was becoming cross with a child, the way he looked at you.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"I strongly dislike when you drink."

What?

"Excuse me?" The worry and concern you try to conjure up was squashed down at his words. He was upset because you drank? "What does that have to do with anything?"

"'What does it have to do with anything?' It has a lot to do with the current situation. Do you always go and get drunk when I am not here?" You're at a loss for words before he released a torrent of criticisms at you. "It isn't safe for a woman to be walking around this late at night, especially one who isn't sober. How much did you drink to be this unsteady on your feet? You can't even stand still without swaying. You cannot be-"

"Stop it! I didn't do anything wrong!" You finally find your voice, interrupting him for the first time tonight. Your voice was pitched as you started growing louder so you could be heard over his already naturally loud voice. "Is it so wrong that I wanted to go out and drink?"

"You should not be doing it so regularly!"

"I never said I was! I haven't gone out like this in months, Kyojuro!"

"How can I be so sure of that?!"

"Why are you screaming at me?!"

"So you hear me!"

"I can hear you just fine without you yelling!" You don't know if you had gotten too caught up in your emotions or if you had shuffled closer to him from the start of his shouting, but you were somehow toe-to-toe with the hashira as you both just... yelled at each other.

Kyojuro was never one to yell or get upset. He was always someone who understood people, understood circumstances, and would want to understand situations before executing any sort of scrutiny or judgment... on most occasions anyway. If something upset him, he would talk about it or rationalize it the best he could within his mind before speaking up.

He never just... lashes out like this.

"Stop drinking!" He hisses at you before you're hissing back.

"You can't just dictate what I do or don't do when you're not here!" You snap at him and before you can register it, your palms are shoving on his chest. He barely even stumbles backward at your shoving, but you move easily in the opposite direction. You luckily catch yourself without falling onto your ass like a fool, but he's still scolding you for your actions regardless of them having no effect on him. Once again not even moving towards you to catch you like he normally does, and the burn starts in your throat.

"Y/n!" His voice has jumped higher, sounding much angrier than just a moment ago. He wasn't calling you out of worry, he was still scolding you. Berating you for reasons you still did not get. You clench your jaw and dip your chin. Perhaps your attempt at a shove was not a very wise action. "Do not-"

"Get out," you mumble and for a moment, silence beats like a dying heart. He says nothing back and as you look at the floor beneath your feet, you yell again. "Out, Kyojuro!" It breaks your heart when he leaves, following your orders without so much more as another word.

-x-x-x-

Kyojuro felt like an absolute fool.

It's been close to a few measly hours since you practically kicked him out of your home, but the more he stays sitting in his own presence, the more foolish he felt. It felt like an eternity had passed by, not just a handful of hours.

He had already walked back to your home but didn't have the guts to open the door again, so instead, he sits on the front, stone step in front of your door.

His elbows are perched on his knees as his interlaced fingers push against his bowed forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut as he recalls the argument he had started. It wasn't rational, and he knows that.

You going to have fun with or without booze should now have made him that angry. It should not have flared him into irritation when he smelt the sake on your breath. He should have moved to help you when you tried shoving him and almost knocked yourself off your own feet instead- he should not have let go of you to begin with.

He sighs deeply, untwining his fingers and pushing the palms of his hands over his eyes. He shouldn't have started yelling or telling you what to do. It just came out of him, like he was possessed by something.

Kyojuro could smell the sake on you and it was like his brain ceased all its functions. He couldn't recognize that it was you in front of him. It was pure, sweet, caring you.

Not his father.

Sliding his hands down his face, he opens his eyes and peers through his fingers down the empty, nighttime road. He straightens his back, turning his head to look behind him at the door leading inside. Leading to you within its confines somewhere.

Would it be okay for him to go back in? You had told him to get out, to leave, and he did without so much as resisting. If he went back in now, would you just tell him to leave again? But, what if you were still drunk and stumbling around trying to take care of yourself? By yourself?

Kyojuro stands, his hand on the door before he shakes the hesitation out of his mind. If you still don't want to see him, he'll leave after taking care of you. His anger was gone, replaced with foul-tasting guilt. The least he could do is make sure you're okay.

He quietly opens the door, wincing when it squeaks only to freeze and listen to see if you had heard him enter or not. When it's firmly shut behind him, he heels off his sandals but doesn't take the time to align them neatly next to yours before he's stepping inside.

His heart breaks when he finds you. You hadn't left the hall where the argument had started, taken place, and finished. You were now laying on your hip, torso twisted so your chest was on the floor and face hidden under your arm. His quiet steps escalate to rushed ones as he quickly kneels at your back and twists you around.

"Y/n!" He whispers in urgency. Even laying on the floor, clearly passed out he minutely feared waking you. He brushes your face free of any hairs sticking to you and he can still feel the flush on your cheeks from the alcohol. The anger never resurfaces though, all he does is worry.

How long had you been on the ground? Did you pass our after he left? Did you just fall straight to the floor? What if you hit your head?

Kyojuro's heart was lodged in his throat as he rubbed his fingers over your cheeks. He could feel the dried tear tracks on them and if you opened your eyes right now, he wondered if he would see the whites of them irritated and red.

"I'm sorry," he whispers once before he's chanting it, unable to stop. He pulls you to his chest, your head tucked under his chin as he stares wide-eyed and guilty at nothing. Focusing on nothing but you passed up against him. "Please wake up, I'm sorry."

-x-x-x-

In the morning, the first thing you feel is a headache and your dry, stiff cheeks from the crying you subjected yourself to after telling Kyojuro to leave. Then, you take notice that you're being held.

You jerk, lifting your head away from what it was leaning against, and come face to face with Kyojuro.

He himself was asleep, his head craning uncomfortably to the side as he has you cradled in between his legs, one behind your back that you're leaning against and the other was rested under your knees. One of his arms was wrapped around your shoulders and the other was wrapped around your legs to keep you close to him in case you wiggled around in your sleep- a habit you had on most nights.

You frown at the unpleasant face he wears.

You swallow the thick feeling in your dry throat as you remember back to the argument you had with him and wonder when he came back home. Part of your felt relieved that he had come back at all, and even more so that he was holding you like this. Still, you couldn't help the bitter taste in your mouth.

Somehow, you manage to maneuver your way out of his grasp and onto your feet as you groaned silently at your pounding head. You make your way to the bathroom, but not before you lift Kyojuro's head up so he doesn't wake up with a sore neck.

You wipe yourself down with a rag and warm water, not wanting to bother with a bath at this given moment. You stepped out of last night's clothes and change into your nighttime robes. You had no plans on leaving the house today, so you'd dress down for once.

"Y/n!" Kyojuro's sudden shouting had you in a small fit of panic. You're stepping out of the bathroom, adjusting your sash as you attempt to tie it securely as you walk. You find Kyojuro rushing into the main room, head whipping around back and forth in search for you. "Y/-"

"I'm right here!" You call and you swear his neck almost snaps with how quickly he whips around to see you changed and clean. "What are you yelling-" You yelp as he runs towards you, not stopping until his arms are thrown around you again just like when you had woken up and you find yourself squashed against him yet again.

"I'm sorry," he wastes no time in telling you. The knot of fear that's settled in his stomach only tightens as you stand against him. Your arms hadn't come up to return his hold and he fears you wouldn't at all. "I am so sorry," he all but whines.

"For what," you return and his hold tightens. Your face was resting against his shoulder as you stand against him and you could feel the shaky breath he took.

"For starting that argument," he swallows. "I shouldn't have."

"Then why did you?" Your voice got tight as you asked. Cracking because part of you didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to relive it. "Did... did I do something wrong?"

"Absolutely not." His answer sounds so absolute, so sure, you almost believe it. Though, it doesn't quell you. "You're allowed to have fun and go out with friends and drink. I had no right to yell at you for it."

"That doesn't answer my question." You lift your arms and push your hands against his hips, creating a small space between you both. His arms slackened as his palms came to rest on your shoulder instead of his arm being wrapped around them. You kept your chin down, studying the white trim of his uniform he had not changed out of. You could almost see your reflection in one of his polished buttons. "That kind of temper, that rage, it doesn't just come out of nowhere, Kyojuro."

"I truly did not mean to," he whispers. "My father, he's been drinking near consistently since my mother passed and he's quite... unbearable on his good days. I just," he swallows again and soothes his thumbs over your robe's fabric in an attempt to focus on something other than his guilt. "I could smell the sake and it just reminded me of him."

"So, you got mad at me because I smelt like your father?"

"It is more complicated than that, but if you want to condense it, then I suppose- yes." He sounds unsure of himself. It made it sound so shallow and he loathed that. He jolts when your hand came into contact with his cheek. He expect perhaps a slap maybe, but the way you gently caressed it made him want to cry himself.

"I am not your father, Kyojuro. You know that."

"I do know that," he confirms. "It was not your fault, I should not have lashed out like that. I truly am sorry."

"I know you are," you brush your thumb under his eye that you notice are growing misty. "We're not done talking about this though. If my drinking makes you so angry, we need to talk about it." He nods at you, willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel better.

"I promise I will not do it again," he whines.

"Kyojuro, can you look at me please." He meekly moves to fully look at your eyes for the first time since last night. You don't have the stern expression he was expecting, a small smile that was mixed in apathy and kindness making his stomach twist. He just wanted you to smile happily at him again.

"I'm sorry," he chokes once more now that he's making eye contact. You bow his head down to your level and push your lips against his forehead. His eyes flutter close, basking in the sensation and the relief that flowed into him from it. "Are you angry?"

"No," you admit, "I'm not. I'm not happy, but I'm not angry with you either. I understand you might have had your reasons, but we can talk more after you get cleaned up, okay?"

His hands slide down to your waist, toying with the thin sash tied around you.

"May I kiss you?"

"You may kiss my cheek," you tease and he smiles at your tone. You clearly want to lift his mood and clear the air. He appreciates it, he appreciated you.

"I'll take it!" He cheers before he was pushing his lips against your cheek and you could feel his smile against your skin again.

-x-x-x-

a/n: hnnnnng do you know how hARD IT IS TO WRITE HIM BEING MEAN. CRYING AT 5:02 IN THE MORNING (if this turned out bad im sORRY ;n;)

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Three Stages Short

Heyyyyyyy it's me again. Soooooo I was wondering if you could do reader who is a civilian getting attacked by a demon in her home and supposedly "dies", leaving kyojuro heartbroken not knowing that she's alive. Fluffy ending please 😊

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, reassurance

warning(s): canon-typical violence, demon attacks, minor injuries/blood, big sads, kyojuro in denial+anger (five stages of grief), kyojuro kinda sorta doesn't let this demon off easy >>'''' lil sadistic revenge, y/n has her ears pierced

w.count: 3.4k

synopsis: kyojuro left, you smiled as he went off. when he came back, you weren't there, but your blood and destroyed home were. the stages of grief were cruel and merciless in your absence

-x-x-x-

a/n: haha ouchies (once again she/her used in rq so a female reader!)

-x-x-x-

Kyojuro stands outside your home's entrance with you as you step down into the genkan to come closer to him. He does not move as you reach up to straighten his top button of his black uniform and brush a bit of lint from his haori. Placing your hands on your hips, you nod in approval, an action that he mimics back to you.

"Many thanks, my Dear!"

"You're always handsome, but going to work looking your best is the best course of action."

"That is true," he agrees. "I am a hashira after all!" He gently grabs your hands from your hips and holds them tightly in his own. "I will be going now. I shall stop by as soon as this next job ends. It should not be but a day or two."

His thumbs brush against the parts of your hands he isn't holding hostage in his warm grip and you smile, nodding to him.

"Of course. Remember to be safe out there. I'll be here, waiting." Except when Kyojuro came back, you weren't there at all.

-x-x-x-

True to his word, the mission Kyojuro was sent on took him about a day to travel to, a single night to complete, and a day to travel back.

However, the travel back was a bit prolonged since he had been caught by a fellow group of demon slayers who he spoke to for a while to get a grasp on how they were fair on their missions. A way to gauge how the corps was progressing, especially since he knew there were very promising swordsmen and women among the corps itself.

He was humming to himself in thought at the idea of the corp growing in potential with each day. You weren't involved in his line of work, and he didn't fault you for it. It definitely wasn't for everyone, and he understood that. However, you did enjoy hearing all about his adventures and work whenever he comes back home.

Sitting down over tea or seeing you set aside a good book just for him to tell you about his latest mission, it made him more excited to tell you than you to hear he thinks. He appreciates how much you support and listen to him- even when his thoughts don't match that innocent smile that always stretched on his face.

He entered your little village with the same attitude as he usually did a day and a half after his departure. However, he quickly noticed an edge to the passing folk both in those he recognized and those he did not. It was nearing dusk, the sun hanging low in the late afternoon and casting golden rays that created pitch shadows.

Kyojuro diverged from the familiar path he could walk with his eyes closed that led closer to you and instead went to try and get an answer to the apprehension.

"Excuse me," he spoke clearly to a vendor he often bought from when he would have the time to accompany you to town. "Has something happened?" The vender, an older gentleman who looked frailer than he seemed, frowned. His brow dipped, adding more wrinkles to his already aged complexation.

"Perhaps," he replies, unsure. "In fact, I would like to return your question, young man." Rengoku's thick brow quirked, now less concerned and more confused. "Has something happened?"

"I am afraid I do not understand what you mean."

"Between you and miss y/n, I mean." Hearing your name laced with the slightly tense topic of how thick the air seemed left a bad taste in his mouth. He had a small think, but still came up with nothing. You sent him off with the same smile and good attitude as usual, and it wasn't like you had fought before he left. In fact, he couldn't remember the last argument you both had.

"Nothing that comes to mind. Is she alright? Did she say something while I was gone?" His mind wandered to the possibility that maybe you had vented to someone about how often he was gone. His work was nonstop and required him to leave so often he didn't have much time as he'd like with you- so maybe you were just upset about that?

"No, that is the very issue. Normally, miss y/n will come out into town just for something to do or someone to talk to; to pass time, or whatnot. Regardless, she's always here lighting up our streets." Kyojuro smiled at the compliment. "Though, we haven't seen her since the day before yesterday."

Kyojuro's brow then furrowed. The day before last, so when he departed? Had he really done something to upset you?

"That is odd," he mused, bringing his hand up to curl his fingers around his chin. He tried thinking all sorts of scenarios or possibilities of what was going on, but all seemed too impossible- improbable. Nothing would have kept you from coming out into the village market, even if you were ill you'd tell someone.

So, why the sudden radio silence?

"Once I return to the house, I shall ask her if she's well," Kyojuro tells the gentleman as he brings his hand back down to hang by his side. Kyojuro was a man to never distrust his instincts, so the fact that when his hand fell and his fingers twitched near the hilt of his sword didn't pass him by.

He felt something violent race his spine; like winter had manifested and attached itself straight to his skeleton.

"Please let us know if she is alright." The gentleman lowers his back before he starts away, Kyojuro offers a resolute 'of course!' to his turned, hunched back before he himself resumed the path back to your home. His pace was faster now, nearly gliding across the ground as his speed increased into a very brisk walk.

Something in his throat beat and throbbed as he grew closer. It was like a type of bile that had manifested some sort of heartbeat and it burned like acid at the base of his neck. It made him frown with each step until he stood in front of your door.

That bile in his throat was now burning like flame-ready coal.

His feet felt heavy and his entire being hesitated opening the door and stepping inside. However, on the contrary along with his hesitation he felt like he couldn't move fast enough if he tried, wanting to rip the door right off the hinges. He knew that if he did either, opened too cautiously or too hastily, both would make you grow uneasy so he had to pretend everything was alright.

It was alright, everything was alright. Nothing was wrong, he had no reason to feel so anxious. His gut was wrong, for once he refused to trust the feeling it was pouring into his mind. It was fine, you were fine. Kyojuro denied every cell in his body that was screaming at him that what may or may not have happened was- in fact- not fine. So, he stepped inside.

"Y/n?" His voice was quiet, for him anyway, and he stopped briefly to listen for you in the house. Rummaging in the kitchen, rustling from movement to come greet him, sloshing of bathwater if you were bathing, anything.

Nothing.

All he got was the sound of his own breathing that he hadn't noticed was growing increasingly erratic. He walked cautiously around the quiet house, ears begging to hear something aside from the creaking boards under his weight.

His heart shot into his throat with the burning when he came into the main room. Everything look the same as usual, aside from the far window that gave a clear view of a side alley that you usually kept a curtain over since the narrow passage of shadows made you nervous considering you knew what could, or could not, be in them.

The window's curtains were torn, the fabric ripped into ribbons, and hardly hanging up on the wall anymore. Pieces of the separated fabric were resting on the ground and the rest blew in the air in small flutters. The draft wafting through the room was caused due to the fact the window itself was shattered. Jagged pieces of glass still clung desperately to the frame with cracks in them and the remaining of it was littered on the floor inside. However, his eyes were solely focused on the dried blood that stained the wooden window sill and down the wall, like something- someone- was dragged outside over the broken damage.

The heart that stopped and shot up into his neck started violently throbbing there as it burned with a fierce acid when a Kasugai Crow landed in the broken window frame and opened its pitch black beak in an announcement.

"A demon is in this village! A demon was seen!"

-x-x-x-

It didn't take long for the flame hashira to be joined in your recently vacant home by two other corps members. They had been sent to aid him in the investigation and dispatch of the demon running amok among the village during the night. However, unlike his normal demeanor where he spoke and initialized the investigation and lead his juniors, he remained silent.

It took him some time to come out of the 'zone' he was stuck in while he stared at the window you must've been dragged out of. Now, he stood with his back against the wall beside the window as the other too spoke among themselves, occasionally asking simple questions that Kyojuro would answer with blunt, short answers.

His drastic change in behavior made the hair on the back of their necks stand and a chill remain on their spines. He wasn't smiling, and he wasn't speaking, and his frown was deep and the aura around him was so threatening. If someone had told them he had invisible weapons surrounding him, they would believe it.

Kyojuro was someone who was in tune with his emotions, which is why he was acting the way he was. If he acted out just a fraction or if something would snap that one remaining thread he had that connected his rationality to his rage- he'd go berserk. Kyojuro could honestly say he had never felt so much anger boiling in the pit of his stomach before. It felt like an overflowing pot and he had nothing to settle it.

He felt like was on fire and the only way to get him to simmer down was to smother the flames, or smother the demon who was responsible for the scene before him. Either option suited him well.

It was always his duty to kill and get rid of demons, but now? Now it was personal, separation between work and personal life be damned.

Kyojuro stood beside that window until the sun fully fell down below the horizon and he knew the demon would begin to roam. The other two corps members had orders to start searching around the village for anyone who may be wandering around and to usher them inside to a safe place.

The veins in his neck felt like they were going to burst with how strained he felt and with his arms crossed. The grip he had on his biceps threatened to tear right through the heavy-duty uniform he dawned with just his blunt nails. He shut his eyes, trying to get his breathing, and temperament, under control.

The wind shifted and his eyes slid open after the sun had completely descended and he finally pushed off the wall. His hand lifted him up over the ruined, blood-stained windowsill as the broken glass nicked into his palm- but he paid it no mind. The slight sting in his hand was nothing compared to what you must've gone through.

Landing outside, he turned his head down the alley before he started off. He wasn't entirely sure if he was aimlessly walking, just following in the direction his feet were taking him, or if he was subconsciously tracking the demon down since his sense were more defined than that of average people. Regardless of how, he was on the move.

And soon, the demon came to him.

Standing in front of him was a thin, all bone hardly any skin, lanky demon. It didn't appear to be a very strong demon, not even close to that of a lower moon and the aura it put out was hardly intimidating; but then again, nothing felt intimidating to Kyojuro right now.

"Are you the demon responsible for the recent disappearances in this village?" Kyojuro stands still as he faces the demon who faces him back. Its lips spread, pulling up into a smile that showed its fangs and gums. Pierced into the gums of the demon were multiple different types of what appeared to be small jewels.

"So what if I am, demon slayer?" The hashira didn't know whether this demon was cocky or foolish if he didn't even detect the thick coat of power that enveloped Kyojuro's body.

"Regardless of your answer," Kyojuro reaches across his chest, flicking his haori away from the hilt of his sword before placing his hand on it. "I intend to slay you where you stand for your crimes."

The demon chuckled, hunching over into a position that readied for it to leap into the air or make a quick dash; it's bejeweled gums shining in the minimal light of the alley. Both parties move at the same time, demon manically running at Kyojuro as the hashira comes to meet him halfway.

The demon didn't know what happened until his left arm was severed from his body, a fiery pain shot up his shoulder, and a mess of golden, red-tipped hair fluttered like fire just below his chin. Kyojuro spins quickly and just as easily as the first time, severs the demon's right arm at the shoulder- pulling yet another wail from the demon before he was sliding behind its back.

Kyojuro slices one of it's legs off at the knee, the demon falling off kilter and hitting the ground with a pathetic thud before Kyojuro was standing above it's chest, legs on either side of it's torso looking down at him.

The shadows of the alley made the hashira's form look absolutely menacing, the peeking of moonlight through the grey-nighttime clouds offering just the right amount of light to cast eerily outlines of his body and hair. It was like a giant inferno was staring straight down at the demon, and that was not far from the truth.

The demon had not yet regenerated its lost limbs as Kyojuro inspected it beneath him. His eyes return to the demon's.

"I shall ask again," Kyojuro spoke, flipping his sword in his palm into a reverse grip. The terror in the demon's eyes flicked to the blade that was now hiding halfway behind the hashira's back. "Are you the demon responsible for the disappearances in this village."

With the demon not speaking fast enough for his liking, Kyojuro lifts his arm, bringing the reverse-gripped sword up, the tip of the blade above the demon's head.

"You damn demon slay- acK!" The demon's words were cut short when the blade that threatening hung above him descends with fierce strength. Plunging straight into its open mouth, through the back of its head, and only stopping when Kyojuro felt the blade hit the dirt road under its body. It immediately starts to squirm and thrash, mouth gaping open and shut- or as shut as it could go before its lips got sliced further from the blade lodged between them.

Kyojuro kneels, his knee landing harshly on the demon's chest before his free hand that didn't keep the sword locked in place pushes the demon's head backward by his forehead. Its mouth was now practically locked open as the slayer could take a good look at the jewels in it's gums.

They appeared to be rows of earrings shoved into its mouth. He scanned the jewelry several times, but despite his thoroughness, he could recall none of the shimmering, polished, tainted, jewels to be yours.

Still, the fact he recognized none did not mean anything. His stomach felt like it was once again filling with coal that fueled a bonfire the size of a building.

He had a job to do.

Kyojuro yanks his nichirin blade out of its mouth as it gasps like a fish, still unable to properly close its mouth with the hashira still forcing its head back. When the demon's chin lifted to try and shut its mouth, it pulled the muscles in its throat tight as Kyojuro adjusted his grip once again, pushing the blade against those same tight muscles.

He felt the gasp in the demon's chest under his knee, lifting him just a fraction higher before he was slicing through it's throat with practiced ease. Before long, the demon turned to evaporated ash and Kyojuro was left kneeling in the alley alone.

His job was complete. The demon was slain and the village was now safer than before, the villagers had nothing to worry about now. The fire in his stomach felt staunched now, but in its cooling was something heavy.

It felt like he couldn't move, gravity keeping him on the ground as he stared at the collection of random earrings scattered in front of his knees that didn't get disintegrated along with the demon's body.

He would need to collect them and offer any familiar looking ones to the families of those with vanished loved ones.

"Rengoku-sama!" He could hear one of the two demon slayers who had accompanied him on this mission call out to him from behind. Still, he couldn't bring himself to move. "We found a survivor who claims to have been attacked by the demon!" Not even the semi-joyous news of a survivor made him twitch.

"Rengo-"

"Kyojuro!" The hashira stood quickly and spun on his heel, seeing the pair of demon slayers approach him with the survivor in question on one of their backs. Awake and waving at him, a small open smile of relief on your face. He felt his sword slip from his palm, clattering to the ground.

"Set me down please," you politely tell the one carrying you and he's quick to oblige as you, the best you could, run the rest of the way to your lover.

Part of him was skeptical as he stares down at you. Your kimono was torn at the legs, exposing your knees and below as they were minorly covered in cuts and dirt. Hair askew and those shimmering, familiar, earrings you had bouncing off the moonlight into his eyes.

You could see his disbelief and doubt before you reached into your kimono's front and pulled out a small charm. Covered in a beautiful shade of lavender and releasing the soft smell of wisteria you offer to him your proof that you were one: not a demon, and two: alive.

"Kyojuro," you call again, gently this time, taking his hand and lifting it to set the charm in his palm. You curl his fingers over it and then encase his large hand in both your own. "I'm okay."

Kyojuro ripped his hand from your grasp and just as quickly encased your shoulders with his arms, pulling you as close to himself as possible. Pushing his cheek on your head as he felt you chuckle into his chest. One of his hands pushed on your back, keeping you close, and he could feel your heart beating harshly in your body. It felt like safety when you wrapped your arms around his back, rubbing up and down his spine under the cover of his haori.

"Are you alright?" You ask him, but he doesn't answer your question.

"I am sorry."

"For what?"

"For not being there when you really needed me." You shake your head, pushing your face further into his chest and breathing in his warm scent.

"You were there. That wisteria charm really works wonders. I'm alive because you gave that to me." Kyojuro tightened the fist that was behind your head and squeezed the charm tightly in his grip. You pulled away from him just enough to look up at him and his eyes looked wet with a glaze of tears.

You cup his cheeks, eyes glazing over just like his.

"You're always there for me, and you saved my life even when you weren't beside me." You thumb swipes over the apple of his cheek, fingertips brushing away loose strands of his hair. "Thank you so much, Kyojuro."

Kyojuro pushes his lips against your forehead, lingering in the safety you provided as he felt his entire body and mind slowly shift back to normalcy. No more fire, no more rage or hate, no more spinning in denial that you were gone.

"Thank you for staying alive."

-x-x-x-

a/n pt.2: welcome back to i got a wee bit carried away-- again

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Moonlight -x- Sunlight

ch.1 - Under the Bridge

ch.1 - Under the Bridge

r.kyojuro / f.reader

genre: modern!au, teacher!kyojuro by day/demonslayer by night, izakayaworker!reader, slowburn?, romance, angst

warning(s)!: canon-typical violence, body horror? (or demons have inhumane bodies/figures), y/n has a black cat named Taco, injuries (obvs), y/n has her bra exposed (is that a warning?), y/n pukes (euck), y/n feels embarrassed about 100 times LOL, rengoku is gentlemanly ofc

w.count: 5.6k

synopsis: if someone told you that one night you'd find yourself walking down the street at three in the morning before you were running for your life away from a disjointed monster hot on your heels- you'd probably check for fever or intoxication. but, when that actually happens, all you think of is running and praying for a miracle as you stare death in the face. turns out, that miracle comes in the form of reassuring smiles and a red sword beneath a bridge and by the riverside.

-x-x-x-

a/n: I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for about a week now and i've managed to pull out one part of it! if this gets enough demand i'll continue it as a series! so please let me know what you think and if y'all would want more :D

-x-x-x-

Buzzing school halls, phones ringing in the staff room, chattering coworkers, supportive teachers to students, the cicadas chirping, the summer breeze ringing wind chimes- all these things were an everyday occurrence for a teacher. Ticking off answer sheets with red ink and writing evaluations at the top left corner of each graded paper. The summer heat filtered in through the cracked window in the staff room and sweat dropped down the necks’ and off the chins’ of the staff who were present in the room.

Two teachers in the staff room sat desk by desk, chatting away as good coworkers, and even better friends, do in between small teacher tasks. A strong breeze howled through the window crack as the sun bore down into the room. The two teachers- two men who were fairly popular among the school’s staff and students alike- halted their conversation momentarily as they glanced outside from the second floor of the school building.

They glanced at each other before they were talking once again- as if they hadn’t gone silent at all.

-x-x-x-

What was supposed to be an early night off work somehow flipped completely on its head as you were the last of the staff to be leaving the izakaya; well aside from the owner of course. You don’t know how you managed to get yourself wrapped up into more hours the same time your shift was initially supposed to end.

Was it because the person who was supposed to relieve you never showed and only offered a half-hearted text saying they couldn’t make it for whatever reason? Was it your stupid inability to say no even if you really didn’t want to take on another few hours? It certainly wasn’t the already tipsy, unwound late-night, and after-work crowd that had you sticking around after all.

Although an izakaya was a rather lax place for the crowds to come and relax by drinking and ordering small portions of foods and snacks, the drunken crowd still isn’t the best to deal with.

You’ve been working at the izakaya for a few years, so you knew the ins and outs of how to handle any drunken situation- from a passed-out customer to an angry drunk. It’s still a job where you wait on people left and right and some people just aren’t very hospitable.

Politely bowing and bidding your boss a goodnight, you slide the wooden door shut and turn before you're walking past the red, hanging cloths in the entrance. You stand in front of the establishment as you stretch.

Hiking your purse strap further up your shoulder, you roll down the sleeves of your jacket. It was the middle of summer, but still somehow tonight there was a chill in the air that made your skin raise in gooseflesh and your hairs stand. You regret wearing shorts to work because the chill ran through your entire being.

It felt like the air was rattling your very skeleton.

“Let’s just get home,” you told yourself. Glancing at the wristwatch on your left wrist, you almost groaned at the late time. “It took a long time before the last guest left today,” you quietly whine. It took so long to close up because he was so drunkenly out of it, it was already almost three in the morning now. “I hope Taco isn’t too fussy.”

Taco, your black-furred cat. You had found him in the alleyway outside your home one morning after coming home from work a few years ago.

He was wrapped up and sitting inside a takeout bag from one of the local restaurants that served all sorts of foreign-styled foods. Tacos are a popular choice on the menu. The name was only appropriate once you took him in. He was fully black aside from the end of his nose that faded into a white patch before his nose. He was a sweet little thing, if not a little mischievous. But what cat isn’t?

You half-way hoped he hadn’t pulled out all the toys you had got him and had kept them in his overly expensive cat tree you had scrunched up the money for on the three-year anniversary of you finding him- or his birthday as you dubbed it. The last thing you wanted to do was step on some sort of fake, catnip mouse that he had found while you were working (you tend to hide the catnip toys when you weren’t home because he didn’t need to be all up on them the whole time you were gone).

You had never paid much attention to your walk home. Always lost in thought, daydreaming, or pondering on what you’re going to eat when you get home. Maybe what show to start watching or if you were going to pad up and battle Taco for a bath, you usually opted out of that last option. So, when you felt the chill that had been plaguing you since you stepped outside shoot through your spine you stumbled in your steps.

You crossed your arms over your chest, palms cupping your shoulders as you hunched forward like you just got shot. Something about how you felt made you feel so much terror, but you had no idea what was happening. Was someone following you? Were you being stalked or something and you just subconsciously picked up on it? It felt like someone’s eyes were on you, but that could just be your paranoia. But, what was there to be paranoid about? You never have been since you had always walked the late-night roads for many years now and nothing had happened before.

What was that saying? You swore you’ve seen some random posts online where people make stupid backgrounds in attempts to sound wise with it.

Just because something isn’t happening now, doesn’t mean it never will. It just means it hasn’t happened yet.

It was something cliché, like something a coffee shop would write on their chalkboard as a ‘boost of inspiration’ and a way to lure in gullible buyers for overpriced caffeine. But, now more than ever, you felt like that saying was stabbing you in the feet- urging you to move before something does happen.

It’s silent all around you in the middle of the night. Or maybe it was the fear coursing through you that made your hearing cut off. You couldn’t even hear the sounds of air conditioning units that would always hum as they stuck out the sides of apartments and establishments to fight the summer heat. There were no late-night cicadas or crickets chirping either. You couldn’t even hear the wind that you could feel brushing along your cheeks and ears.

It was dead. Silence.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to slowly stand back up from your hunched-over state and look over your shoulder. Maybe it was the looming presence behind you, or maybe it was the shadow you just now noticed towering and devouring your own in the late-night streelamps light. Twisting your head as far as you could, your chin lifted and looked up.

Hot, stomach-churning air blew into your face, ruffling your hair strands and creating another violent shiver throughout your body. Rather, it was no air- but a heavy, hot, disgusting breath.

Stood over you, looming over you like some monster out of a storybook was a grey-skinned, skin and bone looking- thing. A monster ripped straight out of a dark fairy tale with frothy bubbles of saliva coating its full array of sharp teeth you could easily see with its mouth hanging open and jaw unhinged. It was easily three times your size, or maybe that was your fear blowing its overall size out of proportion?

No, no- hold on?

This had to be a nightmare, right? Some sort of exhausted hallucination created from overworking? Whatever this thing in front of you was- it didn’t exist, right? It shouldn’t exist.

Your hearing came back in a powerful pulse as pain shot through your ears- it felt like your eardrums had ruptured. The terror must’ve finally kicked you into fight or flight your instincts as you gasped. Bending backward, you drew away from the jaw that unhinged even further and began to drop towards you, you pushed your palms against your ears and fell onto your ass in your panicked back-stepping.

You were sure that if you were in your right state of mind, the connection between your bum and the concrete would’ve pulled a pathetic whine and sore rub from you, but you could hardly feel the hit to the ground.

The monster in front of you snapped its jaw shut in a whoosh of air that hurled its gross breath in your direction. Smelling it again made you want to vomit. You could feel your throat burn with bile but swallowed it back down. Its neck began to twist, going around and around and around only to stop, and tick once in the opposite direction. Its entire thin, spindly neck was twisted like a piece of licorice as its wide, eyelid-less eyes stared up at the street lamps.

“Missssed,” it hissed. Its head ticked once more before it spun quicker than your eyes could keep up with back to its original position. With its neck no longer twisted, you heard its jaw snap like it became dislocated before the bottom of it dropped open. It hunched over onto all fours, legs and arms bent backward and as thin as sticks.

Its jaw clicked before it was lunging for your legs as you still sat in a stupor on the ground. With a small, short scream you brought your knees up to your chest, slamming them rather painfully into your breasts and nearly knocking yourself in your chin to avoid yet another rush of disgusting breath and the whoosh of its jaw snapping shut. Once again, missing you.

Without much thought, when its neck ticked you used your palms to support your upper body and picked your feet off the ground before slamming both your heels into the center of the monster’s face.

It felt like stomping in mud as it quickly cracked and dented under your feet. You didn't think you were strong enough to even break someone’s nose, let alone indent their entire center face. You didn’t dwell on how fragile the monster felt or how you managed to do what you did; instead, as its chin hit the ground in a moment of recoil, you twisted your entire body and scrambled to your feet.

Hallucination or not, the terror you felt was real. And it was telling you to haul ass.

Your legs took you in the direction of the nearby river. There was a bridge overpass just above it and on either side was a slope to the river bank all covered in grass. You knew better than to lead whatever was chasing you further into the city. You could hear its overgrown limbs and hands crunching against the pavement, but you were too frightened to look to see how close it was coming to you.

Making it to the bridge, you step onto the grass ready to rush down the slope with the added force of gravity and science, but immediately fall short- literally. The early morning hours had already started to dew and the moment your rushed steps came into contact, your heel slipped and you were once again on your rump. Though, gravity and science still seemed to be effective as you felt a rush of something above your head before you were sliding down the grassy hill ungraciously to the bottom with a small bump that flung you forward onto your knees.

Groaning for what felt like a millisecond, you were scrambling back up to your feet after crawling about a foot on your hands and knees. You continued to hear that monster in your pursuit as you neared the underside of the thick, concrete bridge. But, what would you do after that?

Were you running to the bridge to escape or were you running to draw its attention away from going further into the city? If it was real would the river running beside you like it was racing your large strides be the last thing you ever see? You still couldn’t tell if this was a dream or not! The pain you felt in your rear both times you fell sure made it feel real.

“This isn’t happening,” you pant to yourself, your eyes stinging both from the summer wind rushing into your eyes and the dread that continued to stir in the pit of your stomach. Was this the end of the line? Your short life coming to an end by some drug-trip monster under a bridge like a troll, only remembered as that one staff member who worked as a local izakaya? “This isn’t happening!” You cry more to yourself than anything else.

Pathetic, you felt absolutely pathetic. You never thought you were once to cry and run in a horror movie, but the current situation granted you a vivid reality check.

The bridge drew nearer and you were soon diving under it, crawling up the small incline to the very underside of it. The concrete was warm as it pushed uncomfortably against the back of your head, pushing your chin close to your chest as you pulled your knees up as close as you could- making yourself into a makeshift ball as you tried to hide in the shadows. You slapped a hand over your mouth, the other dug into the ground you sat on to keep you from sliding back down. Grass strands cut into your fingers and dirt uncomfortably pushed up under your nails.

You saw it slowly stalk under the bridge's shadow that was cast by the combined light of the moon overhead and the streetlamps. In the darkness you could see the outline of its body, still hunched and still as disfigured as before. Each heartbeat that pounded in your ears, and pulsed your blood so harshly through your body it caused you to tremble, convinced you this was very real.

It moved quickly.

First, it was at the bottom of the slope by the running river, next you felt it in front of you again, wrapping its spindly hand around your legs and yanking. Your shirt rode up your torso, your back scraping against the grass and leaving small stinging cuts and grass stains in its wake as your bra became exposed due to the rush. You jerked your captured legs, trying to desperately pull them free, but the grip the monster had on you felt like shackles.

Your escape felt hopeless with fruitless efforts like that. Still, you didn’t stop fighting it. You weren’t sure if you were foolish for struggling in a losing battle, or selfish because you didn’t want to die here, or maybe it was your body just running on adrenaline and the will to survive. Regardless, you kept at it. Yanking and thrashing and soon you felt tears trickling down your face as your eyes burned in the dirt, musty, under-bridge air.

“Get off me!” you crack, voice hoarse and you thought for a moment your demand was heeded because the monster suddenly stopped yanking on you. It had turned its head away from you, yet it still kept its iron grip around your legs. Should you take the chance and try and kick free again? What stopped it? Do you really care?

With one harsh yank, you freed one of your legs, your heel immediately coming back to kick at the monster again just like you had done earlier.

“I said off!” You aimed for its thin neck, heel cracking a drastic angel in its bone. The sound of the bone breaking and bending nearly ninety degrees would normally make you shudder, but not this time.

Before it could recover from your last-ditch assault, you could hear the sound of something else. Something rapid and getting closer. You couldn't see much beyond your blurred vision from tears and fear, but you knew whatever it was you didn’t want to deal with anything else.

The rapid approach of whatever was coming at you arrived, followed by a slice of something in the air, and then moved past you on your opposite side. It had just run right past you and part of yourself felt hopeless. What if that wasn't harmful? What if it was something helpful? Someone helpful? Did they just leave you fighting for your life? Was this really just a hallucination and you looked like some cracked-out junkie under a bridge at the witching hour?

You choked on a tearful gasp before the grip the monster had on you loosened and began to slip away from you entirely. Your breath hitched as you watched its body fall backward, rolling down the slope and splashing partially into the river. You shook as you looked to your side, seeing its head rolling down after its body.

It began to disintegrate like ash before you felt your tears choke you. The bile and vomit you swallowed down before burned twice as much and before you could stop it, you were rolling to your left puking your guts out into the grass. You hiccupped and gasped, your nose dripping disgustingly and tears flooding. You trembled violently and for just that moment you felt inconsolable.

You scream when you feel something press against your back.

Kicking up you begin scrambling away with your heels pushing into the ground and hands walking you backward. You stop short when you see the vague outline of what looks to be another person. They’re holding something in their hand as it extended out past their body, their hand hovering in the air.

Was it their hand you had just felt on your back?

“I-I’m,”

“It is alright,” the deep voice told you from the shadows. A man and his voice, although a bit loud, felt like a security blanket to your brain. “That demon cannot harm you anymore,” he promises.

“Is,” you swallow the subsiding emotions stuck in your throat. “Is it… dead?”

“Yes.”

“Did you? Like,” you look back down at the body, or what was left of it. Swallowing, you continue. “Did you kill it?”

“I did.”

“And you won’t hurt… me?”

“I would never raise my hand to another person. There is no need for humans to fight amongst each other for no reason.” He slowly stood, walking over to you and you could hear his shoes rustle against the grass with each approaching step. He stood beside you before bending and gently taking your arm in his hand. “Come, can you stand?”

You nod as you let him pull you up. Using his arm as leverage you ambled your way out from under the bridge and into the moon-mixed-with-florescent light before you looked at him properly.

“You have very unusual traits,” you mutter to yourself as he smiles down at you and blinks once. You had no idea why that was the first thing you blurt out. If he took offense to your statement, he didn’t show it, and truthfully you couldn’t process your words enough to stop yourself from judging.

A full mane of blonde hair that had red tips and similarly matching eyes. You wondered if he was wearing contacts or if he was born with eyes that unique. Somehow, the thick eyebrows he had suited him as he continued to smile at you. He wore pretty typical clothes, a white button-up with black pants and a single belt around his waist. Although, he also had a black harness that stretched over his shoulders and ran down his torso to wrap twice around his waist.

Looking in the proper light, you found that the object he had been holding in the shadows was actually a sword. He was sheathing it as you watched and you caught a glimpse of its bright red blade.

“Who?” You didn’t need to finish since your question was clear enough.

“I am a friend,” he told you. “We should get you home, where do you live? I'll walk you.”

“I, um,” you looked around. Still confused about how far you’ve run. You managed to get even further from your house than you thought. “I think I can make it back on my own.”

A lie.

The last thing you wanted to do was be alone right now. You didn’t want to walk home alone, and you didn’t want to be alone outside either. You didn’t even want to be alone once you got home. But, the guilty responses in your brain still blurted out that you could handle it. That you were fine.

You absolutely were not fine.

“Nonsense! You are very clearly shaken up. It is my job to make sure people like yourself get some safely. Now- oh!” You had attempted to take a step, whether away or further towards him you weren’t sure, but regardless as you did your ankle screamed and your knee buckled before he was reaching under your elbows to keep you upright. “Are you injured?”

You feel like a wreck, and you're sure you look like one too. Your back stung and you could feel the dew dried stiff on your skin and your damp clothes. Your ankle burns the moment you attempt to put pressure on it.

“I- I think I twisted my ankle on my way down here. I feel down the hill.” You felt as the man slowly lowers you to the ground before he was gently removing your shoe. You tried to stop him, feeling utterly embarrassed as he untied your shoe, plucked it off, and removed your sock. You didn’t enjoy the embarrassment, but you did welcome it among the roster of previous emotions you’ve felt tonight.

“Yes, you are right. Your ankle is already beginning to bruise. You’ve done quite the number on it.” He cupped behind your ankle, lifting and you hissed as your foot naturally extended further. “It’d be best not to walk on it.” He slips your sock back on- you didn’t have the heart to tell him it was uncomfortable now- and offered you your shoe. “Try not to put unnecessary pressure on it. If you will, please hold this.” You take your shoe inquisitively before he was pushing your legs apart.

“Wait- hold on!” He ignored you, that same smile on his face as he twisted and offered you his back once he knelt between your knees. He held his hands over his shoulders, closing and extending his fingers in a silent ‘give me’ motion.

“Come, I shall carry you back to your home. Just tell the way.”

You felt like if you tried to argue, it’d get you nowhere. The stubborn vibes you got from this man already felt like a lost fight. Besides, not standing on your foot felt like a blessing right now. You shuffle forward, reaching over his shoulders and offering your wrists to his hands. He grasps them, pulling your chest fully to his back before latching your hands around his neck.

“Hold on tightly,” he tells you, reaching behind to your thighs. You nod and soon he’s hoisting you off the ground and hiking you further up his back. “Right then! Now, which direction do you live?”

“Oh,” you tell him your address and landmarks that it’s close to and he nods, knowing the area. Easily, he begins taking the closest route to your house.

You felt exhausted.

You'd always heard that the backlash of adrenaline hits like a bullet train, but you have never experienced it before. Now you knew that it was no joke.

The fatigue you felt made you feel like lead and you could easily nod off against this stranger's back with his warmth lulling you towards sleep. The small amount of mental power you had left kept you awake because the last thing you needed to do was fall asleep and cause more issues to the man who happened to be your savior of this very messed up night.

You did, however, remain silent as you basked in the summer air that finally felt normal again.

-x-x-x-

You must have zoned out because the next thing you felt was the stranger hiking your legs up again as his face was slightly turned to address you. When you look up, you were in front of your house. The trip from where you were to home shouldn’t have been that short- so zoning out was your only conclusion to the quick trip.

“Oh,” you mumble, legs extending in the smallest stretch to try and signal that you could be put down. You absentmindedly went to snag your keys but remembered they were in your purse that you dropped in the initial chase and you immediately felt somehow worse. “Um, listen, sir-”

“Are your house keys in here?” He suddenly cuts you off as one of his hands leaves your leg and holds up your purse. You blink at it. “This is yours, correct?” His voice was still a comforting source of grounding as he spoke gently to you.

“Y-yes, it is, but how did you-”

“I saw it on the way here and picked it up. If it did not belong to you, I was going to drop it off at the nearest police station. It’s a stroke of luck that it is indeed yours!” He cheers, explaining it as if it was a daily occurrence to find discarded purses laying in the middle of the street at three in the morning. You must have really been out of it if you didn’t even feel him bend down to pick it up at some point.

“Okay?” You semi-question, a bit too exhausted to care about the hows. “Here,” you lightly kick your legs again, another silent communication attempt to be let down. Instead, all he did was shift his one remaining hold on you and pushed you further up his spine yet again. “You can let me down, I think I can get inside on my own.”

“I cannot do that. I would feel much more comfortable if you allow me to walk you inside your home so that I know you are completely safe.” You swallow and feel your face burn. This random man was more of a gentleman to you than most men in general. Sure, maybe he was being polite out of pity and because you literally almost died, but it was still appreciated. If he were a doctor, his bedside manner would probably be in a class of its own.

You don't argue with him, only ask him to bring your purse closer so you could dig through it and grab your keys. You wouldn’t mind if he did it in your stead, but the small section of your brain that was still working told you if he dug in there and pulled out a tampon or accidentally pressed on your pepper spray you’d pass away from the embarrassment in place of the monster from before.

You pull out your key ring and he takes it from you gently as you tell him which key to place into the lock. Easing the door open, he steps in sideways as he pushes the door further open and gets you inside. The door clicked behind you and normally having a strange man in your house would fill you with anxiety, but something in your said that even under normal circumstances, you would still trust him.

He flicks on the light in the living room and turns so the back of his knees almost touch the cushions of your couch before he’s kneeling and setting you down on it. the back of your thighs push against the comfort of your furniture and your arms unhook from around his shoulders as you almost immediately slump backward and let your head fall back. You’ve never been so glad to see your ugly, semi-scraped-off popcorn ceiling in your life.

From somewhere in the house, you heard Taco cry and soon he was jumping up onto the couch from the arm, stretching towards you before crawling over to your leg and rubbing on it. You smiled, scratching at your needy cat more than happy to see him.

Somewhere along your small trip from the door to the living room, you dropped the one shoe you held and your head snapped up and looked down when you felt pressure around your other foot that still had its shoe on.

That strange man- who you thought would already be on his way out since his job of escorting you was finally finished- was working on removing that one remaining shoe of yours without even stopping to ask or even think about it.

You were fatigued, delirious, and felt like you could sleep for the next week if you tried to, yet his actions still made you jolt with a small burst of embarrassing energy.

“Um,” you start as he just hums, not even glancing up at you. He kept that smile on his lips though you noticed. “You don’t need to do that.”

“It is no trouble,” he tells you simply.

“It’s embarrassing,” you blurt and that makes him look up at you.

“Is it?”

“Yes, it is.” His hands stay resting on your shoe, one behind your heel and the other resting above your toes. “You’ve already done enough for me,” you tell him with the most expressive smile you can conjure up. “It’s so late, so you should be getting back to your home. Don’t let me trouble you anymore.” You didn’t want to chase him out, in fact, on normal circumstances, you’d just invite him to stay over since it was such an ungodly hour.

You figured he’d just argue with you and be on his way if you offered the stay though. Taco jumps from your side, clearly done with rubbing on your leg, and instead goes to sniff around the stranger knelt in front of you. He offers small, under chin scratches to your beloved black cat before returning his attention to you.

“It is no trouble,” he repeats. He lowers his head again and goes back to removing your shoe successfully and setting it aside making a mental note to pair it with the second one before he leaves. “It is my duty to make sure you are safe and comfortable.”

“I don't know what you mean but duty,” you start and are interrupted with a yawn, “but I’m in my home. It can get any safer than here. Please, I’m okay now.” That was partially a lie. The chill that ran up your spine was still threatening to return the moment you were alone. You’d probably sleep with the lights on tonight.

“But, your ankle is-”

‘It’s fine,” you reassure. “I have braces in my bathroom for sprains like this.” You see him contemplate before he’s bracing his palms on his knees and heaving himself up. He stands in front of you and somehow his height is almost overwhelming as you sit on the couch.

“If you insist, then I shall take my leave. Please make sure to get that ankle checked out by a doctor.” He reaches into the breast pocket of his button-up and pulls out a pen before he clicks it. He notices the small notepad on your coffee table and motions to it. “May I?” You nod as he takes it and begins scribbling. “Normal doctors might be complicated if you don’t want to go through the trouble of explaining how you got injured. So, if you’re comfortable with it, I’ll refer you to an acquaintance of mine. She is very well versed in medicine and health and is aware of the existence of demons, just like I am.”

“Demons?”

“That is correct. The creature that attacked you is such a being.”

“Oh.” You were attacked by a demon? Well, considering the circumstances- calling it a monster all this time wouldn’t be that much of a difference. He clicks his pen again, replacing it in his breast pocket and setting the notepad on the table once again. You could see from your place on your couch that his penmanship was neat and legible.

“If you’d like, give her a call tomorrow. Pass the message along that Rengoku referred you to her and the rest will be easy.” He looks you over once more. “Are you very sure you’ll be alright for the rest of the night?” He acted like some longtime caregiver, not someone you met an hour ago.

“I’ll be just fine. I’m home now, thanks to you.” You weren’t sure how to express your gratitude, but your words kept him smiling and his eyes closed. It seemed as though he finally understood that you would be just fine now.

“Alright then,” he says. “I shall take my leave. Make sure to call tomorrow.” He finalized once more before you were giving him a brief goodbye and he was leaving your house.

In the newfound silence, you sigh and fall to your side on the couch. You didn’t want to move and although you knew you’d wake up sore, you closed your eyes. You’d wake up sore anyways after the night you’ve had. All you wanted to do now was sleep.

Of course, Taco was quick to join you in the most inconvenient way by laying right on top of you.

-x-x-x-

a/n pt.2: a reminder to tell me your thoughts and if you want a continuation >:||

[gingerpeachtae]

Incalescent [Teaser]

dropping soon | masterlist

Pairing: rengoku x f.reader

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

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.

@thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch she’s almost ready 🤗

A big thank you to @miss-insomniac​​ for putting the playlist on spotify for me 💙

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

request: Hello you! I was wondering if I could request a lil something with Rengoku x reader where they had something going on way back in time, maybe before he became a hashira, and many years later he is shocked for her to be introduced to the group as a new pillar. They didn't end it in bad terms but it wasn't exactly great either. Thanks so much if you feel like writing it ❤️

See You Again

r.kyojuro / f.reader

genre: fluff, exes to potential lovers, really everyone is a good person bc kyojuro deserves nothing but the warm and fuzzies, very professional adults acting like adults

warning(s): mentions past-break up (mutual), a little hint of guilt/awkardness here and there, nothing major!

w.count: 2.3k

-x-x-x-

a/n: since you referenced a 'her' in the request i went ahead and wrote this for a female reader!! I hope you enjoy and thank you again for the request!! <3 ^_^ (i use s/n for surname instead of l/n in this to avoid any confusion)

-x-x-x-

It was quite odd when Rengoku's kusagai crow came delivering a message that the nine hashira were to be gathered at the Demon Slayer Headquarters by order of Oyakata-sama. They had already held the semi-annual hashira meeting this year, so the sudden beck and call piqued his interest. His crow offered no other news in regards to the hashira gathering or any further missions since Oyakata-sama's order came first.

"Right, I understand!" He spoke to his crow who had been perched on his outstretched forearm before cawing twice and lifting off again. It always stayed close by.

When Rengoku arrived at headquarters, he was not the first hashira present, though he noticed quickly there weres till few who had yet to arrive from wherever they were summoned from. Those present currently were Kocho, Tomioka, Uzui, Himejima, and himself. It seemed as though Kanroji, Tokito, and Shinazugawa were brining in the tail end. It took him a second glance up in a tree to clarify that Iguro had also been present in the stone garden awaiting the master's arrival.

"Greetings, comrades!" He shouts in his usual demeanor as he fully enters the garden in front of the empty engawa and open tatami room beyond it.

Uzui flamboyantly responded to his enthusiasm with his own, while Kocho offered a more calm and gentle greeting. He got nothing from Tomioka- as much as he expected since he was so soft spoken- and only a nod of acknoweldgement from Iguro. Himejima greeted him calmly back, his hands pressed together with the tips of his fingers at chin level- the standard.

He looked among his comrades and nodded happily, joyous to see them all well and seemingly in good health. As the remaining hashira arrived, he greeted them in the same manner. Soon, all were present aside from the master himself and the lingering curiosity of the sudden summons coursed through the nine highest ranking swordsmen like a mountain's morning mist.

As they all were gathering, conversing between the small of them- or at least those who would ingage in conversation- they were interrupted by two familiar, white haired twins.

"The Master has arrived," their syncronized voices announced. In a flash, the nine of them were lined and kneeled as Oyakata-sama appeared in the double shoji doors that lead into the open room. Guided elegantly to the engawa, he wore that same tranquil smile on his lips as his sightless eyes faced outside towards his children.

"It's wonderful that you all have arrived safely," he softly says to the line up of swordsmen. "My apologies for the sudden call, but there is something that must be announced to you all, my beloved children."

"There is no need for apologies, Master," Shinazugawa speaks loud and formally, his nose still pointed to the white stones under his knees. "It is wonderful to see you in good health once again."

There was a brief silence before he continued on- always the first to speak up somehow. Perhaps it was because of how long he had held his spot as a hashira in comparison to some others, or maybe it was just who he was an individual to be first.

"If I may ask, would you enlighten us on the matter in which we were all called for."

"Natural, I know that you all are very busy in your duties. Acting as the nine pillars of the organization is no easy task and I am always praying for your safe return back home." There is an air of peace among the hashira at his grace. "Among those lines, I would like to introduce to you all someone special."

The bowed heads of the nine of them all lifted to look at Oyakata-sama.

"Someone special?" Mitsuri questioned softly, the arm that rested on her proped knee in her kneeling came up to curl her small hand against her lips. "Who could it be?" She wonders aloud.

"Perhaps a new swordsman!" Rengoku announces with the same vigor as he would with anything else. The smile on Oyakata-sama's face only softens as to answer the guess made by the flame hashira. There is a beat of silence.

"Will there be a new addition to the Hashira ranks, Master?" Shinobou's soft voice calls out with her hand in the air. Her palm facing outward as if silently asking permission to speak before she does so.

Uzui's hand came to clench as he enthusiastically spoke next.

"If the Master is introducing to us a newHashira, than I am certain they will be flamboyant."

"Is that all you ever think about, Uzui-san?" Shinbou asks with her always present smile and closed purple eyes.

"Any Hashira must be stylish in their position! How else would we continue to shine and support our underlings?" The small case of bickering was brought to a close as Oyakata-sama silently hushed them back into their tamed states.

"This young woman has worked hard and proven herself to be among the nine of you as a Hashira. I implore that you all treat her with kindness and help guide her into her new position."

At the news of it being a woman Kanroji's face had become flushed as she smiled, excitement dancing in her pink eyes. Shinobou smiled and the constant rage she nearly always felt lessened for just a moment. Although they were equals with their male counterparts in terms of accomplishments and skills, having another female among them was a breath of fresh air.

The air of curiosity quickly flipped to intrigued and anxiousness about the new face. Rengoku himself felt excited. Another new swordswoman to add onto the strongest ranks of the Demon Slayer Corps! It was the most wondrous of news and well worth the summons of all the hashira to witness.

"Then," Oyakata-sama says, "would you please send for y/n."

The kakushi standing at the end of engawa who had been silent and waiting for orders suddenly sprung to life. A quick 'Yes, Master!' and then they were scampering off around the corner of the garden and out of sight.

The excitement Rengoku felt was halted for a but a moment. It skipped like a heartbeat as his ever-present smile twitched at the ends. Y/n? That name brought back memories of his distant past before he became a hashira, before he even reached the rank of kinoe.

An old teenage affection he remembers. Even if they had parted ways mutually, if not a little tasteless, he looks back on fondly at those memories with that name.

The silence held fast as the Kakushi soon returned, announcing that they had brought the newest 'Lady y/n,' as requested. The halt in his mood escaped in a silent breath through his lips when you rounded the corner into everyone's line of sight.

You had changed, had grown up as one will always do, but Rengoku knew that it was you. It was that single young love who had suddenly found yourself among him and the other highest ranking demon slayers without a doubt.

You wore the standard demon slayer uniform, bottoms cut into a skirt that matched Kanroji's but the top you wore matched with Shinobou's as you refused to wear an open-chested uniform when it was your job to eliminate demons, not put on a show.

Your nichirin sword, instead of being on either of your hips, was resting snug between your skirt and belt at the small of your back. The guard of your hilt was rectangular and flat, so it didn't uncomfortably press into your back as it hung diagonally behind your legs. You had no haori or cloak upon your shoulders, but you did have a hair stick pinned into your woven hair to keep it up and out of your way.

You had grown up beautifully, Rengoku thought.

The momentary shock had passed and he quickly resumed that bright, tight lipped smile- even raising it higher upon his cheeks than usual.

"Y/n," Oyakata-sama calls and you turn to him, lifting your chin to view him on the engawa. "Please introduce yourself to your fellow hashira." You directed your sights back to the nine of them, all eyes on you.

You lower your back, bowing to them as even if you were now of the same rank, they were still your superiors.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am s/n y/n, I do hope you all will teach me many things in the coming battles."

-x-x-x-

Once Oyakta-sama had dismissed himself as well as the rest of the hashira, they were soon back on their feet. Some stretching, some spacing out, some ready to get back to work and others trotting over to your side to introduce themselves or get to know you since you'd be comrades on the same battlefield- relatively speaking.

Mitsuri was currently in front of you, on the balls of her feet speaking to you with excitement in her voice and blush on her lovely cheeks. Whatever she had said to you, you had found amusing as Rengoku made his way over admist your laughter and enjoyment.

"S/n!" He loudly called you by your surname. Mitsuri had stopped speaking to you momentarily to face the man who had trained her in the past. She slightly stepped to the side so he could stand in front of you properly instead of her, looking down his nose as his big frame casted shadows in the daytime sun. "It has been a very long time!" He announced, crossing his arms all in good manner as you smiled and nodded at him.

"Yes, it has. I hope you've been well, Rengoku?"

"I have!"

"Uhm," Kanroji's voice interjects between the two of you weakly, pulling both of your attention. "You two already know each other?" She asks, not knowing that the few remaining hasira who stuck around in the stone garden were suddenly interested in whatever story there is behind you two. Although, they busied themselves with other tasks or kept their facial expression neutral so that they wouldn't be caught and still seemed uninterested.

"That is correct!" Rengoku confirmed. "We knew each other when we were younger. I had not even achieved the rank of Kinoe when we first met!" Uzui, finally interested in the conversation at hand and showing so- as well as feeling a bit mischievous and curious at the relationship between you town- pipes up as he congregates towards the small little group.

“What?” he chides. "Some sort of teenage fling? How very flashy of you, Rengoku.” Before you could deny anything and set the record straight, the loud golden haired man spoke first- again.

“I would not call it a fling!” He looked back to you and those who knew him well could see him soften in his features as your cheeks grew warm, but you would simply blame the sun for that. "It is wonderful to see you well. I hope we fight alongside each other many months into the future."

Uzui let out a low whistle at the softening tone Rengoku took on. He clearly wasn’t going to get anything juicy from the fellow harisha’s past; though, as a man with as many wives as he, the form shinobi understood the situation well enough with a silent nod and manly pat on the back.

In truth, Rengoku had hoped to be able to speak with you more. For a much longer amount of time after so many years without contact-mostly to blame on his part since he was always so very busy. Though, as soon as the thought came to him, it was blown away by his kusagai crow was circling overhead, cawing at him the next location to head onwards toward.

“Head to the North! North!” It cawed once, twice for confirmation, before swooping down and landing on Rengoku’s outstretched arm. “To the North!” It demanded again, making the flame-haired hashira nod one, strong, single time. The crow flew off, pushing down the man’s arm a fraction in lift off.

He directed his sights on you once more, dropping his arm back to his side and beneath his haori completely.

“I am sorry, y/n," you almost jumped at the sudden switch to your given name from him calling you by your surname before, "but, it appears as though I’m needed elsewhere as soon as possible.” You shake it off, understanding completely.

“It’s alright. We’ll see each other again soon, then we’ll make some time to catch up properly.” In truth, you were delighted to see him again and overjoyed that he remembered you at all- much more acting normally and not awkward like how you felt.

You knew that Rengoku had climbed the ranks, taking over his father’s position as the flame hashira many years ago when you followed after him to the demon slayer corps. You always thought, however, that if you ever met him again it’d be painfully awkward since your emotionally and hormonal teenage-lover days. You were fearful you'd be unable to utter a single word to his face.

You were just so enthralled with him when you were younger, that when things got too rough and life was too demanding and distracting for a relationship, it was evitable things would come to an early end. Then you broke it all off in pursuit of your future and his. Though, you could never deny that it always left a bad taste in your mouth. It was mutual, clean, but you swore that back then neither of you wanted to let go, but you had to.

You beamed when you saw that look in his eyes and knew that the past wasn’t something that hung over his as something made in teenage lapse of judgment. He had always done things to the beat of his own drum, but still always remained in the realm of good deeds and truth to his own heart.

That's just how Rengoku was.

“Good luck, Kyojuro” you tell him, using his given name back. If you had known him better now that you both had properly grown up, you would have noticed how his eyes light up with a brand new fire in him at your well-wishes and his name on your tongue.

“Yes! To you too!”

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Moonlight -x- Sunlight

ch. 2 - Kocho (cw//banner has flashing text!)

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: modern!au, teacher!kyojuro by day/demonslayer by night, izakayaworker!reader, slowburn?, romance, angst

warning(s): non-descriptive nudity (y/n takes a shower and shinobu need to assess her injuries so she strips), taco being an unintentional ass, a lot of shinobu in this chapter lol

w.count: 6.4k

synopsis: if someone told you that one night you'd find yourself walking down the street at three in the morning before you were running for your life away from a disjointed monster hot on your heels- you'd probably check for fever or intoxication. but, when that actually happens, all you think of is running and praying for a miracle as you stare death in the face. turns out, that miracle comes in the form of reassuring smiles and a red sword beneath a bridge and by the riverside.

-x-x-x-

a/n: just so we're aware i will be using honorifics for this fic (and pretty much most of) ^^ i just like the way they sound instead of plain names lol. anyways! pls enjoy the next chapter of moonlight -x- sunlight and lemme know what you all think and if you want more!!

-x-x-x-

“Taco,” you groan, “get off me.”

The cat currently kneading on your shoulder did not, in fact, get off you. Crying in your ear, you finally crack your eyes open and find yourself face-first into the back cushions of your couch. For a moment you're confused as to why you’re in the living room in the first place. The second you tense your body in preparation to sit up, however, you instantly remember.

Immediately, any movement you had started ceases and you collapse back into the cushions. Your whole body screams at you. Your muscles are sore and just the simple act of twitching sends a wave of discomfort and pain throughout your body; accompanied by a-- probably over-dramatic-- moan. Your back stung in small cuts from the blades of grass you recall being dragged across and your ankle hadn’t exactly healed overnight.

Following the pain, the memories of the terror that you had felt the previous night shot you with a harsh reminder that all of that was real. It happened and it wasn't just some overactive nightmare. You really experienced all that pain last night and somehow survived it.

“Ow! Taco!” You yell as your beloved pet stretched across your back. Clearly, he didn’t mean to hurt you, but your loud volume had him jumping off the couch and stretching on his own on the carpet. Although you knew it was an unintentional attack on his behalf, the action didn’t prevent the short ‘asshole’ that came out of your mouth.

Even if he was off you now, his insistent crying had you woefully rolling and maneuvering to your feet.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re hungry, I know.” You rub your head with a wince. “I need some coffee anyways. And some pain meds.”

-x-x-x-

You manage to hoist yourself off the couch with more effort than you're willing to admit; accompanied by even more verbal complaints in the form of curses before limping yourself pretty pathetically into the kitchen. Taco trailed behind you before rushing in front of your legs and then turning around to make sure you were really coming to feed him.

He acts like he hadn't been fed a day in his life.

The kitchen tiles are cool on the bottoms of your feet and as you pull a small can of cat food from the cabinet, you lift your foot up off the floor and use the counter to lean on for balance and to keep pressure off the injury. Scooping the wet food into a small bowl, you bend the best you can at your hips and practically drop the rubber coated, non-slip bowl onto the tile for whatever remainined distance you couldn't bend to. Grunting, you come back to stand straight up and huff.

You hobble your way out of the kitchen, leaving your munching cat behind, and make way to the bathroom where you had told the man last night (Rengoku you think he said his name was) you had some cheap, assorted braces stashed inside. Taking an ankle brace from under the sink, you place it on the sink counter before you finally catch a glimpse of your reflection.

“Oh my god!” You gasp, leaning over the sink and touching your face with your fingers. You’ve looked better.

Your hair was clumped and had bits of dried dirt and grass tangled up in it. Your skin was smeared with the remaining dust from your hair dirt that had your face feeling far drier now that you realize it’s on you. Your shirt was practically ruined, all stained up and ripped, same with your shorts covered in grass stains on the cheeks and entire left side. You were covered in small paper-thin cuts from the blade of grass you rolled down when you twisted your ankle and when you turned to pull up your shirt to see your back, you gasped again at the nasty marks that nearly resembled a torn-up cat scratching post.

“Holy shit,” you seethe. Without much more thought, you begin stripping. Peeling off your shirt, your shorts, your bra and panties follow close behind. You decide to throw all articles away and only winced mildly at the sight of your bra in the trash bin because you knew you’d have to replace it and they were just so expensive. You shook your head, it was for the greater good anyway.

You walk- well amble- around the bathroom, until you’re pulling open the glass shower door and leaning inside to adjust the showerhead so it points against the wall and away from your half-in, half-out body before turning it on. You twist the handle until it points about midway into the red portion of the red-blue water temperature stickers and wait for the cold water to stop coming out of the showerhead.

Sticking your hand until the stream, you nod to yourself and take a deep breath. You know when you step inside and let the water hit your back it wasn’t going to exactly tickle. You also know that you can't just leave your body dirty and unclean like this- that wouldn’t be good and you don't want to risk any infections.

Taking another deep breath, you hold it and clamber into the shower as quickly as you can with one working foot and confidence about as flimsy as cardboard. Shutting the door behind you, the magnetic latch clanks the door shut and you reach up to move the showerhead so the stream fell onto your chest and down as you looked up. You let the water run down your front before you spun around and just as you knew, your back lit up with lines of stinging fire.

“Ow!” You whine, lurching forward and slamming one hand on your thigh and the other against the back wall of your cramped, standing shower. You feel your eyes burn hot with unshed tears of pain but soon, the stinging sensation dies down and all that was left was the numb feeling of the cuts just letting the water pass over them. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had taken when the water hit the wounds. Standing back up again, you take a proper shower the best you could with your beat-up body.

Using the cheap bar soap you had gotten, you lathered it all across your body to clean your cuts and skin of any more dirt and grass stains. Washing your hair was a task in itself, but eventually, you got it done. Then, you lower yourself to sit in the middle of your shower floor, leaning sideways into the wall and letting the water fall from above like warm raindrops.

This close to the floor, you could clearly hear the water glugging down the drain, and without really realizing it, you let yourself cry. Alone and clean and somehow still reeling from exactly how you got injured in the first place. It all just came crashing into you out of nowhere.

“God,” you sniffle as you just sit there in your own silence and the comforting sounds of the water.

-x-x-x-

When you had finally gotten out of your pity shower, you had wrapped a towel around your shoulders and left the bathroom. In the privacy of your own home, you had no issues walking around in the nude or close to it; it wasn’t like Taco was judging you through his little cat eyes.

You limp your way back into the living room where you sit on the couch and place the first-aid kit you had brought with you out of the bathroom, along with the ankle brace, on the coffee table. You slip on the brace first, securing the velcro straps across your foot and ankle, and wince at the slight pressure being applied. Then, you start littering your arms and legs with bandaids, additional globs of Neosporin on the non-stick gauze portions of the bandages. Once that’s done, you sit and contemplate on what to do with your back, then your eyes finally see the notepad that had been scribbled on.

“Oh, that’s right,” you say to yourself as you reach forward and grab the notepad, bringing it up to your face to read. The neatly written number on the small paper reminds you that the stranger from last night had written it down. “He told me to call this number if I wanted to,” you reach into your purse that had been sitting on the ground beside the couch and grab your phone, opening up the phone app and pulling up the dial-pad.

Without much hesitation, you punch in the numbers and triple-check them before tapping the green icon for an outgoing call. As it rings, you shudder in anxiety and gulp down the thickness in your throat. The sting in your back was what made you call so quickly and the fact that you remember he had told you that this person, his friend, would understand your circumstances.

You almost jump off the couch and pro-throw your phone out the window when the call is picked up. The baseball bat known as anxiety swinging at you with the attempt at a homerun at the sound of a clearing throat on the other end.

“Hello?” The voice is soft, sweet, and high-pitched. The name written under the jotted down number did sound like a woman's, but the voice was further proof that your assumption was correct. “May I help you with something?” Her voice asks again before you’re shaking yourself out of your silence and stuttering into the call.

“U-um, hello,” you want to smack yourself for sounding lame. “Is this,” you pause to look at the name written down just to make sure you get it right, “Kocho Shinobu-san?” Your voice heightens at the end of your question and there is only a small pause at the other end of the call. Perfectly normal in length, but you find a way to make yourself nervous in that small bit of silence.

“It is,” she confirms. “May I ask who is calling?”

“I’m- well, my name is s/n. Last night, some stuff happened, and,” you stop and huff before blurting out, “a man referred me to you. He said his name was Rengoku?”

“Rengoku-san?” She questions back and you nod, but quickly remember this is a phone call.

“Y-yes, ma’am.” You gulp again at the small hum of confirmation on her end. “Would it have been better not to call you?” You ask.

“No, if Rengoku-san asked you to reach out to me, then circumstances must have called for it. Are you in need of medical assistance, s/n-san?”

“I think so? I'm just-" you huff. "Yes,” you finalize. You slightly hear her chuckle on the other end.

“I see, then would you be able to travel to my clinic? If Rengoku-san is sending you straight to me, you must be within a reasonable distance. If I give the address, could you make it to the location?”

“Yes, I think I could. I can do that.”

“Wonderful!” She cheers and throughout the phone call, you hadn't realized that her voice has actually calmed you down. “Would you like me to send it to you via text on the number you’ve called me on, or just tell it to you and you can write it down.”

“If the options open, a text would probably be better. I don’t want to forget the paper it if I write it down.”

“I understand. Then, please confirm this phone number for me, if you would,. You rattle off your phone number and she hums again. “Alright. Once this call ends, I’ll send you the address and you can start making your way here. No need to schedule anything due to your current circumstance. Just do your best to make it here and I’ll be with you when you arrive.”

“Thank you very much,” you tell her before you're getting off the phone and staring at the ceiling again.

You push yourself off the couch and go into your room. It was summer, and hot and it would only get hotter, but all you could think to wear was a hoodie over your torso. There was no way you would be putting on a bra, the straps and latch would irritate your back and shoulders and a hoodie would be thick enough to hide your braless chest. Pulling on gym shorts under the hoodie, you slip on ankle socks and go back to the living room to grab your purse.

You plug your phone into the portable charger you keep in your purse and see a notification from an unknown number come through with an address and a follow-up message addressing that it was from Kocho.

You open your phone and call for a cab to take you as close to the clinic as possible. According to the GPS, it seems like her clinic was just outside of city limits. So, you’d probably have to take a cab to a bus station and then take the bus the rest of the way out.

When your taxi arrives, you pet Taco’s head and kiss his nose before telling him goodbye and leaving. Limping down the two steps outside your front door, the cab driver- a younger woman- hops out and rushes to you seeing you limping.

“Do you need any help?!” She worries before you graciously take her outstretched arm and nod. The painkillers you had taken once you had got out of the shower weren’t doing much for your pain and so the added human crutch was appreciated.

“Thank you,” you tell her as she helps you in and then gets into the driver's seat before driving to the bus stop you ask her to.

After the drive to the bus stop, loading the bus, and taking it the rest of the way, you soon find yourself on a semi-paved road and following the remaining distance Kocho sent you by way of your trusty GPS app. You follow it’s electronic directions until you’re standing in front of a building.

It wasn’t anything giant like a hospital, in-fact it hardly even looked like a clinic. It was styled older than modern clinics and buildings, and you could see that past the entrance was a stone pathway that split in two separate ways, one path leading to a large garden you just barely make out. The house in front of you looked like an old, traditional home. Though, when you hobbled towards the front door, the nameplate on the side of the wooden entrance had ‘Kocho’ etched into it, so there was no way you were mistaken.

You reach out and press the small, white buzzer and you could hear it buzzing through the building inside; you shift around nervously in your waiting.

Before long, the door was being opened and a short, black-haired woman with purple ends was smiling in front of you. Dressed in a black turtle neck and matching slackers, the white doctors' coat she wore was a stark contrast. The butterfly clip she had on the back of her head holding back her hair was just as beautiful as she was. You almost blushed at her sudden appearance.

“Welcome!” You could tell by her recognizable voice that this was Kocho Shinobu. “S/n-san correct?” She guesses and you're nodding, feeling sweat roll down your neck and the center of your chest. “Oh my! It’s far too hot for a hoodie like that!” She gently chastises before she’s leading you inside.

She takes you to a room not far from the entrance and inside looks like an office setup. A desk with all sorts of books standing between brackets and files with papers neatly stored in them. The filing cabinet beside the desk is probably chock-full of all sorts of files and documents on patients and procedures and medicines. The office vaguely smells like antiseptic and there's a small table and stool for examinees' you assume.

Obviously, this was her own personal office where she conducts private one-on-one sessions with patients like yourself.

She directs you to the stool behind her desk chair and you gladly take a seat before she sits in front of you. You almost sigh in relief at the released pressure on your throbbing ankle.

“Before we start any form of examination, would you mind explaining from the beginning?” You know she’s asking why you were referred to her in the first place. Rengoku said that she would understand and it’d be easy from there on, so it must not be too crazy to tell her you were attacked... would it? But, how do you start such a story?

She seems to notice your mental dilemma and closes her eyes with a gentle smile. She crosses her legs and sets her hands, one on top of the other, atop her knee before reopening her eyes and looking at you.

“May I ask for your full name, s/n-san?”

“It’s s/n y/n. Oh, but you're more than willing to call me by my given name if you’d like, since we appear to be close in age.” You then remember that regardless of age, this woman was a doctor. "Oh! But only if you want to, of course."

“I was thinking the same. My name is Kocho Shinobu, though you already knew that thanks to my acquaintance.” You nod at her. “Rengoku-san was your referral, so can I assume this is a matter that normal doctors’ wouldn’t quite understand? Or would require you to lie about how you got injured because no one would believe you?”

You light up and nod.

“Yes! That’s exactly it!” She smiles at you and you know that’s the green light to go ahead and spill your guts about everything.

So, you do.

You tell her about when you got off work and when you felt the violent chill rack through you in the middle of summer. About how that demon tried to chomp off your head and how you managed to kick it at least twice, but how in terms of damage it did a lot more to you than you to it. And how Rengoku had saved you before carrying you back home and leaving you before you passed out on the couch.

“My, my,” she frowns, “it seems you had quite a terrifying time. If it’s alright with you, once I take a look at your physical wounds, it may not be a bad idea to consider possible testing with your mental health. Occurrences like the one you encountered are almost always traumatic, and proper treatment needs to be done to more than just your body.”

“So, like therapy?”

“Something of the sort. I have plenty of staff who work in this clinic with me who could help you with that, but for now, let’s just focus on a physical examination.” You nod and she stands. She helps you pull the hoodie you wore off as gently as possible since you continue to wince when you raise your arms- your shoulders still pretty sore. “If you're uncomfortable, please tell me and we can work out means to make you more comfortable.”

“It’s alright," you reassure. "I don’t mind stripping down for a check-up. It helps that you're a woman and you seem very professional too,” you laugh. She acted just as poised as she did when you were fully clothed. Being a first-time client of hers, even if you never came back, she had to take all sorts of measurements and ask all different kinds of questions as she filled out sheets of information. You understood, and you already planned on calling off for the night at the izakaya so you had the time to spare for all the extra stuff.

Plus, Kocho just seemed like a good person, and being around her made you feel lighter; calmer.

Blood type, allergies, weight, height, bust-hip-waist measurements, blood pressure, heartbeats per second, all sorts of things were jotted down before she was finally ready to assess all the bandages plastered all over you and the wounds on your back she had seen earlier during your measurements. Apparently, there’s a separate wing to the clinic just past the garden that houses any long-term clients and they’re always supplied with patient uniforms or robes. Measurements are taken so they could be tailored for comfort.

“I hate to break it to you, y/n-san, but I’ll have to remove all these bandages.” You could practically hear her frown as she walks around your stool a couple times looking you up and down as you sit in nothing but your underwear. Lucky, she had let you put pasties over your breasts so you’d feel less exposed- she kept spare around for her more embarrassment-prone clients.

“That’s fine. I just didn’t want to get dirt or anything in them. They can come off.” You peel one off before you see the shiny residue of the Neosporin. “Oh, they have antibacterial cream under them too, so that might need to be wiped off.”

“That wasn’t a bad call putting ointment on your cuts,” she nods. “I’ll grab some wipes.” She walks to her desk and grabs a small case of baby wipes and pops the top open before grabbing a couple and handing one to you. “You focus on your arms and I’ll take the ones off your legs and wipe them down. I’ll also take this brace off your foot while I’m down here too so I can look at it later.” You nod and get to work.

All in all, before, during, and even after the exam when she lets you throwback on your hoodie, you realize you’ve never been more calm, composed, and comfortable during a doctor's visit before. One that you spent the majority of nude anyways.

“Unfortunately, I can’t offer too much for your cuts and bruises aside from recommending some pain medication and keeping them clean like any other standard cut. Since they were grass cuts, they shouldn’t take much time to heal at all- much like paper cuts. So, just focus on keeping them free of dirt and such.” She was scribbling something on a piece of paper before she spoke up again. “As for your ankle, it’s luckily not fractured,” you sigh in relief, “though a badly sprained ankle still isn’t good. Putting pressure on it for too long can add damage and make the sprain worse. They take time to heal. I’ll be sending you back with a crutch along with a better-reinforced brace. I’ll also prescribe you some higher dosage of medicine to help with the pain.”

You almost sigh in relief at the idea of pain medicine that will actually work.

“Is it okay to soak my foot in like Epsom salt? That’s supposed to help with swelling right? My mom used to tell me that she’d soak her feet all the time when she was pregnant with me because they’d swell and hurt.”

Kocho looked up from her paper and smiled at you, nodding. “Yes, that should help contain the swelling and manage the pain as well. It’s a good alternative to deal with sprains and breaks so one doesn’t become dependent on pills alone. I would recommend that.”

You make a mental note to buy some at the store on the way back home.

When she finishes up, she briefly leaves the office only to come back and escort you back to the front. There, you’re met with another girl who seems quite a bit younger than you with pigtails pinned up with similar hair clips to Kocho’s. She’s holding a white paper bag that’s stapled shut and a crutch. You assume both are for you.

“Thank you, Aoi,” Kocho says to the girl who hands over the items before she’s excusing herself back to her own work. She seemed like a diligent girl, despite her young age. It was refreshing.

Kocho adjusts the crutch under you before placing the prescription bag in your purse for you and soon you're lifting your foot off the ground in its new, professional, reinforced brace and leaning on the cutch that’s pushing under your arm.

“Kocho-sensei?” You address as she’s on her knees making the few adjustments in height to your crutch so it’s more comfortable for you. She hums at your call. “How much do I owe you?” She chuckles before she’s nodding, a small ‘there we go!’ under her breath and she’s standing in front of you again.

“Thanks to Rengoku-san’s recommendation and referral, your visits related to these injuries are complimentary.” Your jaw drops. She chuckles at your shock and elaborates. “While I do run a clinic that charges its regular patients for regular check-ups and exams, for cases like yours when a demon is involved, we do not charge those victims. Everything about being a victim of a demon attack is already shocking enough to the human mind- from their existence being confirmed to injuries the attacked person may sustain; so to ease the shock and pressure of the situation, we offer our services freely to them only.”

You slowly nod. That… makes a lot of sense.

Victims like you would surely be in shock after such an event and additional hospital charges would take their toll on an already stressed out individual. That’s why Rengoku referred you to this clinic, so you wouldn’t have to deal with hospitals or their fees. You smile, but still feel a bit guilty for having nothing to give back.

“However, after your wounds have healed from this particular occurrence, should you choose to remain a patient of ours, we’ll have to start implementing a charge then. We’re still a business at the end of the day.”

“I understand.” She helps you down into the genkan and out to the entrance.

“Are you going to be able to make it to the bus stop on your own?” She worries.

“I made it here earlier without a crutch, so having one with me will definitely make it easier. I’ll manage.”

“If you’re certain. I’ll give you a call in a few days and we can schedule a follow-up then. For now, take some time and rest.”

“I will. Thank you for all your hard work, Kocho-sensei.”

“You can drop the ‘sensei’, we’re the same age. It makes me feel old,” she insists. It feels wrong to not address her with the respect she clearly deserves, but if she doesn’t want you to, you’ll listen. It wouldn’t do you any good to argue on what she prefers to be called.

“If you insist, Kocho,” you chuckle.

“Much better.” She claps her hands in front of her chest and smiles. “Now, you best hurry. The next bus won’t take long to arrive. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.” You nod and soon you’re on your way to the stop and once she can no longer see you, she goes back inside the clinic.

By the time you get home, you’re hot and sweaty and ready for another shower honestly. The summer heat really took it out of you and the inside of your hoodie stuck uncomfortably to your sweat-slicked skin. You place the bag of Epsom salt and ice/heating packs in the living room before Taco is between your legs, rubbing on them before he’s sniffing the brace with the unfamiliar scent.

You plop down onto the couch and laugh at the continuous sniffing he’s giving your brace and crutch that’s currently leaning against the couch cushion beside you. Before you forget, you take out your phone and pull up your contacts and call your boss. He definitely wouldn’t be happy you needed to take some time off, but hopefully, he’d be at least a little understanding.

You were cleared to take a week off from work and you just hoped that’d be enough time to get back up on your feet- literally.

-x-x-x-

Your week off passes by far too quickly for your liking- and Kocho’s for that matter. You were sitting in your bathroom on the closed lid of the toilet with your foot soaking in a bowl of water and dissolved Epsom salt. It was a small luxury you were trying to enjoy that also helped your still present swelling before you had to trudge your way to the izakaya later.

Kocho had called you about three days into your unprompted PTO to schedule your follow-up. When you had told her that you had only four days left on leave from work, she immediately asked you what your job was. Answering back with an occupation that requires you to not only be on your feet constantly but move quickly? She was not a very happy doctor.

In your defense, the pain factor had gone down a lot since the original incident and it was way more bearable in terms of mobility and pain management. So long as you could convince your boss to let you take small power breaks between servicing tables, your foot would be fine- probably.

The swelling never lasted and when it flared up, you’d just take a couple pills and soak it until it felt like all the blood rushing into the limb was rushing away. The bruising still looked pretty nasty as you twisted and turned your foot to look at it, but you knew it would look worse before it would start looking better. You could definitely feel the soreness of the spots of dark blues and purples outlined by the ugliest shades of recovering damage.

Meanwhile, all your minor cuts along your body and back have scabbed up and stopped hurting completely. Some have already healed, leaving only small, faux scars that will eventually fade in time. Overall, your progress has been considerable given how you started out in this whole situation.

Then, your mind wandered back to Rengoku, that fire-haired stranger from that night. You had asked Kocho if there was any way to get in touch with him since they clearly knew each other, but she only told you she couldn’t exactly give out his personal information- phone number included. You understood, but you still pouted when she told you. All you wanted to do was thank him properly and not a quickly rushed ‘thank you’ like you gave him before you essentially chased him out of your house before.

“Could you maybe tell him that I’m grateful for what he did, then?” You asked her when she had called. “I don't know if I’ll ever see him again, so I just want him to know I’m very appreciative.”

“I’ll pass it along,” she had promised before the call ended. You hadn’t talked to her since, and you had no reason to expect her to reach out to you anyways. She was your doctor, not your pal. As much as you liked her personality and thought she’d be a good friend, it just wasn’t in your cards. Your little social circle was pretty much consisted of coworkers and a few online friends you had met over the years that you rarely have the chance to speak to comfortably due to time differences.

You always wish you had more friends. Sometimes you felt like a Sim and your social need was in the red, but you had no way to fix it. If only it were that simple.

Your train of thought was halted by Taco waltzing into the bathroom and sitting at your feet, sniffing curiously at the bowl your foot was soaking in. You tut and reach down to scratch at his head. You could feel him purr as he immediately began to push against your hand and rub on your leg before he flops onto his back, just barely out of your reach.

“Taco, please,” you laugh as he rolls and flips back to his paws again, resuming his rubbing against your leg. “You’re impossible,” you chuckle as you lift your foot when the timer you set for your foot starts going off. Thus, your evening begins.

When you make it into work, the izakaya isn’t open yet, still just barely hitting six o'clock. You’re greeted by the staff already behind the bar and the few heads popping out from the kitchen to say hello. A few ‘how’s your foot?’ concerns are thrown at you as you just tell them that you’ll be taking it a bit slow tonight, but otherwise, you’ll be fine. A few looked at you skeptically, others didn’t bother to show concern at all.

Such is the life of a 'whatever you are' to some of the other employees.

After explaining the situation to your boss, and your marching orders of ‘if you’re in too much pain, sit down for a few’, you went to start prep before opening.

Luckily, as you worked and served guests, you had managed to work as you had before your injury. You tried to hide your limp the best you could and you acted as if you weren’t in pain- minor or not- at all. A few regulars had asked if you had taken time off for a vacation or something, but you just smiled and answered with ‘something like that’.

For some reason, telling your guests that you were injured and still recovering made it feel like you were fishing for something. Sympathy? Pity maybe? Whatever it was, you didn’t like how it tasted in your mouth, so you kept it to yourself. You could handle this on your own.

You were placing two mugs of beer on a table when you heard the door of the izakaya slide open.

“Welcome!” You shouted just as you did every other time people came in. However, your smile dropped into an expression of surprise when two men step inside.

One towering at a height that had to be over six-foot with hair like snow- probably dyed- and the gaudiest headband you’ve ever seen. With him was your flame-haired savior from just over a week ago! Dressed in what you guessed was his work clothes, the same style you had seen him in before. Dress shirt, ironed pants, and shined shoes, only now he wore a blazer that remained unbuttoned and rested on his shoulders.

When his eyes met yours he smiled back at your shock.

“Hello again!” He greets. You nod back at him and the taller, white-haired man just gives you both a look going from Rengoku to you and back. “You look well, much better than the last time I saw you!”

“I should hope so. It’s been a week, if I still looked as beat up as before, I’d be seriously worried for my health. Now, if you both would please,” you stretch your arms inwards and they get the hint to step out of the doorway so if anyone is coming in after them, they don't clash with each other. That, and the fact that both men were so bulky, not to mention his friend being giant, were taking up the entire doorway so anyone leaving had no chance of getting through unless they moved.

You sit them down and place two separate glasses of water in front of them before anything else.

“How is your ankle?” Rengoku asks out of nowhere and it startles you for a moment before you remember the pain in your joint. You wince unconsciously before you quickly try to will yourself to forget it again. “Kocho had passed the message along that you indeed traveled to her clinic outside of the city for treatment.”

“I did. She was a big help and made me feel right at home. I appreciate the referral to her. I’d like to keep her as my regular doctor. once this is through truthfully.” He laughs, and you swear the entire inside of the pub-style restaurant goes quiet for one, single moment before all the noise returns.

“I’m sure she would love to have you as a regular client! She surely wouldn’t reject the idea.”

“I can only hope,” you smile before handing over a couple small menus with listed snacks and alcohol choices. “I won’t be able to serve you two tonight, but my coworkers will take great care of you! Someone will be right over to help with anything else.” The two of them nod but before you go, you keep Rengoku’s attention. “Thank you again for last week. I never got a chance to thank you properly.” You quickly bow to him before digging your hands in your waist-apron pocket and digging out a small receipt paper, prepping for your next table. “I’d be in a lot worse shape than I am now- if I was here at all without your help. I really appreciate all you did for me.”

“It was no trouble! As I told you, it is my job to make sure people like you get home safely!” You just nod at him. Considering how rare it seemed to you, he seemed very well trained and equally well-versed in demons. You let the idea pass through your mind that maybe demons are more common than you think, and you were just ignorant of them all this time. Regardless, you knew that it definitely couldn’t have been a rare occasion of him saving someone’s life. It could have just been another day. But to you, it was still more than that.

“Still, thank you very much, Rengoku-san.” He had momentarily forgotten that you had known his name since he had told you to tell Kocho who had referred you; as well as the good doctor had probably brought him up herself during your exam.

Regardless, he still smiled and accepted your gratitude before you were rushing off, trying not to trip over the limp he could tell you were still trying to hide.

“What’s the deal with her?” His friend, who had basically been an ignored third-wheel ever since they walked in the door, finally asked. “You walk her home one night or what?”

“Ah, it is not so simple. She was nearly a victim of our second profession; however, she held out long enough for me to arrive and aide her.” His friend’s mouth opened in silent understanding before he pushed the heel of his hand into his chin, his elbow on the tabletop.

“So, that's why she's trying not to limp?”

-x-x-x-

a/n: why is shinobu so hard to write for t-t i rly dont think i did her justice hnnnnnnng