#rengoku x f.y/n

[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

[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 !!!!