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Giyuu can’t remember the last time he didn’t feel tired.
It’s been close to four weeks since he last had a proper break, thrown from mission to mission with barely a day to catch his breath in-between. The demons he’s killed and the people he’s saved have merged into something close to a blur- until he feels as if he’s running on little more than muscle memory, the innate swing-and-slash of his sword being the only thing keeping him standing.
It’s the sort of tiredness that eats away at his bones like a parasite, but he can’t afford to rest. As much as he hates it, as much as he wishes the title was never placed upon his shoulders, he’s a Pillar after all.
Even when his leg is almost shattered in two by a weak demon that he should have slain in mere seconds, Giyuu refuses to let himself waver.
The call for a gathering of the Pillars feels like both a blessing and a curse in one- it’s a break, a time to sheath his sword and relax, even if just for a day or two. But on the other hand, Pillar meetings are undoubtedly more tiring than a fight with a demon could ever be.
They’re a reminder- a heavy, constant memento that he doesn’t quite belong.
Still- he hasn’t slept in close to three days, and although the sun is rising as he steps into the Ubuyashiki estate, he falls into the bed prepared for him like it’s the closest thing to home he’s had in a long while.
-
He wakes only hours later, somehow feeling more tired than he did when he arrived. The sunlight is pouring in through the window now, stained purple through the petals of the wisteria trees, and he stretches, trying in vain to ease some of the stiffness in his limbs. He’d fallen asleep fully-clothed, and his uniform and haori are creased and dirty from so many consecutive missions. His hair is in no better state- his hair-tie had snapped a few days go, and sleeping so restlessly had done it no favours at all, strands of it sticking up hopelessly in all directions.
Giyuu yawns, hauls himself to his feet, and can’t find it in himself to care.
He knows he’s running late by Sanemi’s presence, evidently sent to collect him in the way he’s standing near the entrance to the room, with a glare in Giyuu’s direction that could freeze most people to the bone.
Giyuu can’t tell if he’s grown used to it- or if he’s just too tired to be bothered by it.
“So the Water Pillar decides to finally grace us with his presence.” Sanemi looks angry- although when does he not , Giyuu reasons- and he’s still glaring when he pushes himself off the wall to face the other pillar.
There’s a new scar on his arm, Giyuu notices, close to the elbow. He stares at the spot, and continues to do so long after Sanemi has moved.
“Hey,” Giyuu feels a finger jab harshly at his shoulder. “Hey! You look awful. Did someone have to dig you out the ground to get you here?” There’s a few more prods at his shoulder, each harder than the previous one, and Giyuu finally gathers himself together enough to turn and look at Sanemi.
“I’m tired.” He states, because really, it should be obvious.
Sanemi snorts, somewhere between annoyed and amused. “I can tell. Your hair looks even worse than it normally does.” He doesn’t wait for a response, just gestures for Giyuu to follow him.
They walk, Giyuu trailing behind a little. He can feel Sanemi constantly looking back at him, glances between his hair and his face that grow more and more annoyed each time. They’re almost at the courtyard, with its pretty gardens and view of the wisteria trees, when Sanemi grabs Giyuu’s wrist, and marches him in the opposite direction.
“You’re really pissing me off, Tomioka,” Sanemi grits his teeth, but doesn’t let up his grip in the slightest. He marches them back to his own room, evident by his sword propped up against the far wall, and pushes Giyuu. He goes down with little resistance- out of surprise or out of the tiredness that wears away at him, he’s not quite sure. “If I have to look at you for one more second, I’m going to tear my own hair out.”
He settles himself down somewhere behind Giyuu, and drags his fingers roughly through his hair. They catch on the knots and pull hard enough to hurt, but Giyuu doesn’t think he could move away even if he wanted to.
“When was the last time you brushed this? Do you even own a hairbrush?” The disapproval in Sanemi’s voice is clear, as he sets to work teasing the knots out of Giyuu’s hair with his fingertips. “Don’t move an inch.”
For the longest time he works in silence, pulling at knots and working them free, tugging a little at times, but his actions gentle enough to be almost relaxing. Before long, Giyuu finds himself leaning back into his touch, closing his eyes as his awareness of his surroundings slips away from him with every pass of Sanemi’s hands through his hair.
He’s barely awake enough to suppress the shiver that works its way down his spine, as Sanemi’s fingers brush against the side of his neck. He can’t remember the last time anyone touched his hair like this, the last time anyone had actually taken care of him.
“Hey. Wake up.” Sanemi jabs a finger hard into his side, startling Giyuu into awareness once again.
“Sorry. Feels good.” Giyuu admits, rearranging himself so he’s no longer leaning right back into Sanemi.
From behind him, Sanemi freezes, hands still tangled in the back of Giyuu’s hair. “Are you shameless- or just stupid?” He asks, more to himself than to anyone else, so Giyuu doesn’t respond.
Really, he doesn’t think either of the words fit. Honest, he would phrase it. Maybe blunt at a push. ( Looking to get yourself punched , Sabito had once put it, but had helped him to his feet regardless.)
Sanemi goes back to working in silence, and Giyuu tries a little harder to keep himself upright.
“When was the last time you slept?” Sanemi asks, as Giyuu’s eyes begin to close and his concentration slips for what must be the fourth time, lulled into a sense of calm by Sanemi’s fingers working methodically through his hair. He opens his mouth to respond, blinking to try and force the world to become more lucid under his fingertips, but Sanemi cuts him off. “Aside from this morning. Don’t get smart with me now.”
Giyuu feels he should be concerned- as he finds he can’t actually remember.
“I took a nap under a tree about three days ago.” perhaps it was three days, perhaps it was more- all he can remember is the roots pressing uncomfortably into his back, and waking up with leaves in his hair and his crow shouting in a raucous voice for him to keep moving.
“Figured that much,” Sanemi tugs on a particularly large knot in Giyuu’s hair, and tosses the piece of bark he pulls free to the ground. “You sure look like someone who hasn’t slept properly in weeks.”
If Giyuu knew better, he would say Sanemi almost sounds sympathetic.
“Why are you doing this?” Giyuu is well aware that the Wind Pillar does not like him. He knows it in the way he refuses to pair up for missions, in the way he would much sooner beat him to the ground than talk to him, in the way he glares at him across the courtyard like he’s never seen anything worse. Yet here is Sanemi, kneeling behind him and running his fingers through Giyuu’s hair with a sort of gentleness he didn’t know the other Pillar was even capable of.
“You’d better not be getting the idea that I’m warming up to you into your stupid head,” Sanemi barks. “You look like shit- I’m just making sure you’re presentable for Oyakata-sama.” As if to prove his point, he tugs a little too hard on a piece of Giyuu’s hair.
He works at the hair next to Giyuu’s face for a little longer, then leans back to admire his work. When Giyuu turns to face him, he looks almost relaxed, like the repetitive motions have quelled a small portion of the anger that always seems to burn inside of him. He’s not smiling, but it occurs briefly to Giyuu that it might be something nice to see.
“Your hair isn’t even that bad when it’s been brushed,” Sanemi remarks. “I don’t see why you keep it in that ugly birds-nest of a hairstyle all the time.”
“I don’t know how to do anything else with it.” Giyuu admits, reaching up to tug at a strand of his now-smooth hair absentmindedly. Scraping it back into a ponytail is easy and quick- something he can do on the go without a mirror and without any thought. If it looks bad, then the demons he slashes to pieces aren’t going to be the ones to complain.
Sanemi frowns, then shifts to reposition himself behind Giyuu again. “I’m not letting you ruin my work- sit still and give me a hair-tie.”
Quick to start, he sections Giyuu’s hair into three pieces and begins braiding the one to his left, weaving the strands together in silence with the hair-tie Giyuu hands him tucked between his teeth. He finishes the first section, tying it off and repositioning himself once again. Giyuu isn’t quite sure if he just worked quickly, done in no time at all, or if he fell asleep at some point, calmed to the point of complete relaxation.
“You’re good at this.” Giyuu observes, as Sanemi weaves the back part of his hair into an intricate sort of braid with deft movements, identical to the one he just finished.
“Used to do it for my younger siblings- although they actually looked after their hair.” He doesn’t look up as he speaks, but Giyuu can hear the fondness in his voice, stained at the edges with something a lot more sad. He didn’t know Sanemi had siblings- had never talked to him long enough to find it out- but something tells him he shouldn’t ask further.
“My older sister always used to do my hair for me.” Giyuu speaks, almost glad that he’s too tired for the memory to hurt as much as it usually does. Tsutako, smiling and combing his hair before breakfast, always cheerful, always present. (It was so many years ago, but still, it hurts like a fresh wound.)
“So you’re a younger sibling? I could tell,” Sanemi finishes the second braid, tying it off and moving around to Giyuu’s other side to work on the rest of his hair. “Moody, stubborn, convinced you’re better than everyone else.” He counts off the traits on his fingers.
That, Giyuu thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Even through the tiredness that waterlogs his limbs, the knowledge that he’ll never be good enough- that he will spend his whole life being saved by those who deserve better- sinks into his heart like a sharpened blade. He grips onto the edge of his haori- the side he carries Sabito in- a little tighter.
Sanemi seems to realise he’s hit a nerve, and goes uncharacteristically silent.
He quietly braids the remaining piece of his hair- and when Giyuu’s eyes close and he falls backwards, barely awake, Sanemi doesn’t make an effort to move him again.
Giyuu’s eyes open to Sanemi’s hand shaking his shoulder, a little harsher than necessary to rouse him, and he stares blearily ahead before his mind catches up to him. He sits forwards, removing his weight from where it’s pressed up against Sanemi’s arm.
“I’m finished- get going,” Sanemi nods in the direction of the door, making no effort to move himself. “I’ll show up after you do- if you speak a word of this to anyone, I’ll break your spine.” From the glare in Sanemi’s eyes, intense and dangerous, Giyuu can tell he’s far from joking.
He scrambles to his feet, trying not to sway under the sudden movement, and leaves without a second glance. As he walks, he runs a tentative hand over his hair, twisted into three braids- two sitting upon his shoulders and the other trailing down his back. He realises as an afterthought that it’s similar to the style Mitsuri wears her hair in- just shorter and significantly less colourful. It feels different, but Giyuu isn’t sure if it’s the hairstyle, or the phantom touch of Sanemi’s fingertips that still settles upon his hair.
“Oh Tomioka, how nice of you to-” Shinobu spots him the moment he enters the courtyard- that fake-happy grin plastered all over her face, before she freezes, something close to shock spreading to her features for a brief moment. “What happened to your hair.”
Giyuu remembers Sanemi’s threats clear as day, and opts to not respond, walking to the side of the courtyard in the hopes that he will be able to stand alone until Oyakata-sama arrives and the meeting commences. Shinobu follows him, expression morphing into something close to pure evil as she goes.
Somehow, Giyuu almost wishes he had slept in long enough to miss the whole meeting.
“Nice hairstyle, Tomioka,” Shinobu grins, prodding at the end of one of the braids. “Who did it for you? You find someone who likes you enough to do your hair for you? Does that mean the birds-nest ponytail is gone for good? Because really, that thing was ugly-” Shinobu talks faster than the wings of the insects she styles her swordplay around, and Giyuu just wants to sleep.
She halts, barely long enough to breathe, as she realises Giyuu has no intent of responding to her.
“You have to make an effort if you want to be friends, Tomioka!” She prods him with a sharp fingernail. “Use your words, come on!”
Sanemi takes the opportune moment to walk into the courtyard, sword at his hip this time as he crosses the garden to stand next to Rengoku and Uzui near the wisteria trees. As he goes, his line of sight slides over to Giyuu, landing heavily upon him for a heartbeat, before he turns away to greet the Flame and Sound Pillars properly.
Giyuu stares after him for a little while longer than necessary, and the grin that spreads across Shinobu’s face could make even an upper moon demon cower in fear.
“Shinazugawa, huh?”
Giyuu decides, resolutely, that he is far, far too tired for this.
-
Giyuu takes a walk down to the Wind Estate the following day- in the aftermath of a much-needed twelve hour nap, courtesy of Shinobu jabbing him in the ribs no less than seven times to keep him upright during the Pillar meeting. He feels more awake- more alive- but the thought of Sanemi’s hands running through his hair and weaving it into intricate patterns with a surprisingly delicate touch just won’t leave his mind. It’s a haunting of sorts, one that has him seeking out the Wind Pillar with an uncharacteristic sort of recklessness guiding his movements.
“What do you want?” Sanemi is training out in the courtyard when Giyuu arrives, running through the forms of his breath-style like they’re second nature (Giyuu knows from experience that they most likely are.)
Giyuu gestures up at his hair, hanging loose around his shoulders, and Sanemi shakes his head violently.
“Do your own damn hair!” He glares, intense with anger and something else, before readjusting his grip on his sword and turning away. “You can see yourself out.”
Giyuu doesn’t make any effort to move. “It was better when you did it though. You looked more relaxed too.” Bluntness, honesty, call it what he may, but whatever it is, it makes Sanemi angry. He whirls back around, a hurricane in more than just his breathing style, and Giyuu feels that if it wasn’t for the taboo against Demon Slayers- Pillars no less- drawing their swords upon one another, Sanemi would have sliced him up there and then.
One second, Sanemi is up in his face, sword gripped tight enough to fear he may break it, silent aside from the wind-chimes strung up in the estate trees. And then the next, he steps back, lowers his sword, and pushes Giyuu straight onto the ground. Sanemi settles behind him, and tugs harshly on a piece of his hair, just as he’d done the previous day.
“Be fucking glad I’m not allowed to stab you.” Despite the anger that stains the edges of his voice still, Sanemi moves to section his hair off- different to the last time but no less comforting. Giyuu is more awake this time, but he still closes his eyes, still leans a little into Sanemi’s touch, still feels his breathing begin to steady and his muscles begin to loosen up in a way they haven’t for the longest time. If Sanemi notices, he doesn’t say a single thing.
He works in silence this time- no remarks about the state of Giyuu’s hair or harsh pulls when the Water Pillar tries to start a conversation. When Sanemi moves into his field of vision to work with the left side of his hair, he’s close to smiling in a way that’s a little too distant, a little too calm- evidently caught up in some sort of memory (younger siblings, he had mentioned only a day ago.)
He weaves two braids down the sides of Giyuu’s head, then combines them somewhere at the back, all too quiet, all too gentle.
Sanemi finishes, and presses a kiss to the top of Giyuu’s head.
It’s the sort of gesture meant for a sibling, before sending them off to school or out to the market to buy groceries, evidently not intended for Giyuu- but it freezes him to the spot regardless. At the same time as Giyuu freezes, Sanemi snaps into motion, scrambling to his feet and staring- torn somewhere between horror and anger.
“Don’t-” His voice catches in his throat, looking all too shocked.
“It’s fine,” Giyuu stands, and nods towards the courtyard exit. “I’ll see myself out.”
He can feel Sanemi staring after him as he goes, but it doesn’t stop him from running his fingertips carefully along the places where Sanemi had woven pieces of his hair together. And as his crow calls out to him- another day, another mission- he smiles.
It’s fine- he had said- because he’d be lying if he told Sanemi he minded it at all.