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It recently came to Sanemi’s attention that Giyuu frequents a flower shop at Yoshiwara District.
Seeing that his next patrol is at Tokyo—not in Yoshiwara specifically but in the same prefecture nonetheless—he decided to bring along a small bag of gold coins just in case he fancies something in the famous flower ships there.
He also hoped Tomioka Giyuu would fancy an unannounced visit as well.
“I didn’t know you were loaded,” Tengen said; Sanemi running onto him on his way down south. As he were to pass by the Mie prefecture, he took the time to patrol the highly populated cities there where Uzui was assigned. That said, a pparently, the Sound Hashira was two months down from seeing any of his wives. Someone is pent up for any interaction at this point.
As sad as it is for either of them, Sanemi wasn’t down to have a sleepover. It was Uzui’s luck that Sanemi stayed to talk. It was his misfortune it’s him and not Rengoku though.
And the only reason he stayed because heard that the Sound Hashira was knowledgeable in the flower language.
“Why does it come as a shock to you? You’re rich. Obanai’s rich. Literally all of us are,” Sanemi replied, pinning a weak demon to a tree using his sword. Its lungs were crushed underneath his blade, squirting blood all around the wound. He proceeded to look at Uzui instead of staring at the corrupted mess of flesh in front of him.
“I know. I’m just wondering why you are carrying so much gold,” the taller man replied, swiping his blades as dirty blood splattered to the grass.
The coins, strapped to his belt, did keep clinking as he fought. He already stuffed the coin bag with some straw he picked up along the way, but Uzui probably still heard them during the battle. Him and his little gossipy ears.
“Oh- wait, don’t tell me…”
This can’t be good.
“Is dearest little Sanemi stopping by the entertainment district?” Uzui teased, a smirk spread cheek to cheek. “Is his highness in need of company in Yoshiwara?”
“I’m not that kind of man,” he grimaced.
He is technically stopping at Yoshiwara District alright, but not as a patron or whatever Uzui probably thought he’s going to be. He knew, however, that expecting Uzui Tengen of all people to leave him off the hook so easily isn’t feasible. If anything, he is the nosiest hashira there is. He won’t stop until he milked the tree of all its sap.
Literally, figuratively, and metaphorically.
“Then why in a rush? Eat with me. Have you eaten?”
“No, and stop following me. You’re getting out of your post,” Sanemi grumbled, already reaching the border of Mie and Tokyo as they ran. “I don’t plan on taking your time for long.”
“And why is that?” Uzui said, actually stopping—much to his expectations. Sanemi had half a mind to glance back and wonder what insane shit Uzui is about to pull, but to his surprise, his footsteps actually halted for real.
Sanemi paused on a nearby tree, groaning.
“What in the actual hell do you want from me?”
Above him, on a sturdy branch, Uzui peered down, shrugging but not without a glint in his eye.
“Nothing. Just figured something out.”
“Which is what.”
“I hear a melody of softness in you. I guess I understand that to an extent,” Uzui smiles as if knowing something quite important, “And, well, I think someone captured your heart as of late? Am I right?”
How the actual hell could he be able to tell something like that? Uzui had always been like this, thinking he said shit when all he said were mere riddles.
Sanemi only cracked his knuckles and readied himself for another sprint. What an oddball.
“Just do your job, Tengen. Goodbye.”
With that, they parted ways. The problem is, he was already at the district when he realized he forgot to ask him of the flower language. God damn it.
Though technically, he doesn’t need Tengen, right? It’s just that having his knowledgable opinion would have acted as a much-wanted course refresher on flowers. All he could remember was that roses meant love or something. Anything else? Gone.
It was all thanks to Kanae.
She once gave him a briefing on what message each kind of flower has. He’d hate to admit that he almost forgot them after all these years. He just wanted to get her flowers for her birthday today, too. Perhaps that’s who Uzui thought of? Kanae ?
Back then when life was much louder, flowers simply reminded him of ephemeral beauty and fleeting joy—his darling long gone, Kanae Kocho. She once told him, back when he was meaner and couldn’t care less, that flower petals are born so fragile and even more when they die. They crinkle into dark ashes without the need to burn. He didn’t pay it any mind. A painful regret.
And Kanae, despite being the Flower Hashira, isn’t like the flowers she represent. She is beautiful and sweet but stronger than she looks—a flower that resists the strongest wind, gleaming against the foggiest mist, and strong enough to survive the cruelest storm.
Like a bamboo. But bamboos aren’t that pretty.
(And bamboos bounce back when the wind hits them, which was quite the funny metaphor since she literally once punched him in the face. Defensively, yes, but purposefully.)
Sanemi shook his head, remembering what has long gone. In the memory of pink butterflies and frail petals, he once lingered. As the wind to her flowers, Sanemi long accepted where he stood in her world.
Now, Kanae Kocho is no longer; and time effectively helps in healing those who were never meant to be wounded—him, Sanemi Shinazugawa.
And oh God, he wasn’t even meant to love. He wasn’t even meant to mourn. In the first place, they’re merely swordsmen serving humanity and that’s all it should have been.
Regardless, what was done has been done. It’s time to move forward—and s o he did. All this for her, for Shinobu, the girls she left behind, and maybe also himself.
She never told him, but Oyakata-sama did. She would want him to be happy too.
But the goddamn flowers though! Should he send Uzui a crow for advice? Maybe write something up and use his crow to send it?
He immediately stopped himself there.
No, no. Definitely not.
If anything, the secret will only be safe with Uzui and his wives and his mice and his crow and Kyojurou and Obanai…and Mitsuri…and Shinobu…
“Sanemi’s out flower shopping at Yoshiwara!” they would say.
“He must have found a wife,” Tengen would comment.
“Or he’s hellbent on running away with an oiran,” Obanai would add.
“But maybe he’s just buying flowers,” Kyojurou would but in.
Those geezers, he knew them inside out. Just thinking about them knowing he’s visiting Yoshiwara for whatever reason makes his skin crawl.
No crow it is.
He finally enters a small village at the dip of the valley and immediately hid his sword at his back. There weren’t too many people unlike the actual district ahead. He started walking to try to blend in with the local crowd.
“Ah, excuse me, son,” an old lady called to him. He immediately stopped in his steady pace and looked back, seeing a kind-faced old lady pointing up to a half-crooked sign on her noodle shop.
“Will you—“
He was already walking back to re-hook the sign back into place. The sign was of a noodle broth shop, and Sanemi immediately remembered that noodle soup Kyojurou said he loved. Like this one, it was also a house eatery built and perfected by a family for ages—down to its spices, method, and delicacy.
Ah, he missed those flavors. He should eat out with them more often.
“Thank you!” the lady exclaimed, “Bless you on your journey, young man. Please, have some—“
He was so ready to spit out his rehearsed “we don’t accept gifts” speech when the old lady just grabbed his palm open and placed a pinch of small grains from her pocket.
“Uh, what the hell are these?”
The old lady smiled shyly. “I’m short on money but I hope that will do. Those are apple seeds from the enchanted orchard in the valley. I hope these will serve you well in your journey. You’re not from here, are you?”
Sanemi blinked as his heart started to race. While the seeds meant nothing to him by itself, he bowed to the old lady gratefully. It did feel a lot better than money as it held more weight than it should have. Strange seeds.
He nodded wordlessly to the old lady before resuming his jog. For some reason, he started to smell Rengoku.
He kept walking, this time a bit faster.
Red stone arches eventually met him at the end of the street, and he finally reached Yoshiwara District. From where he stood, the long fenced village was filled with shops, stalls, people, and—holy shit—lots of unsupervised children. Sanemi immediately remarked that the district could easily be a buffet for demons at night with all these little rascals.
He started to wonder what exactly was it that the Water Hashira came here of his own volition anyway. He hated people and crowds, so why did he stay here of all places?
Is he perhaps…fancying an escort?
Suddenly, a delicious scent caught his attention. Snapping his head almost too quickly to the right side of the street, Sanemi saw a stall selling what he was 100% sure was his favorite thing in the world.
Oh, thank God.
“One ohagi,” he said to which the vendor immediately attended to.
He can see now. Perhaps Giyuu went here because of the food. Maybe.
As he ate, he looked around. If he was correct, the brothels, inns, and entertainment buildings start appearing past the red flower passageway over there. Perhaps he can also lodge here for the night before he patrols.
Just lodge and nothing else.
If anything, Giyuu is staying there too, so maybe he could find him.
Also just lodging and nothing else.
As he got through his first ohagi he barely remembered taking and paying for, he took the time to lay his head back to a wall nearby and close his eyes for the time being. None of the scents he picked in the air was dangerous—just ohagi, sweets, and the smell of a city. The clouds above him were thick enough to hide most of the sun’s blaze.
With his favorite flavors exploding on his tongue alongside the inherent internal peace he felt, he started to reminisce the last time he talked to the Water Hashira.
Stabbing the demon’s body as a final blow—smushing it deep on the ground as he opts not to watch it slowly disintegrate—Sanemi watched as Giyuu looked onto the distance. Specifically, onto the mountain horizon facing east where he must have expected the sun to rise.
“Hey,” Giyuu called. Sanemi didn’t answer but he must have known he heard him and was listening. “Where are we stationed next?”
The man remained with his back to him, the chill morning wisps of air blowing his hair and haori back. Now that Sanemi noticed it, whoever sewn Giyuu’s haori together must be one skilled tailor.
“I believe we part ways now,” he replied concisely. His sword starts to tip over in front of him as the demon’s body disintegrated even more, and he caught the blade by the hilt before it fell on empty ground. “I am to travel north.”
It was quiet.
“I take it Oyakata-sama wouldn’t place you on a mission for another week,” Sanemi continued, rolling his eyes from remembering what the leader said. Kagaya must be insane. Giyuu is a grown fucking man—an able-bodied swordsman of the highest rank in the Corps, no less. Sanemi had half a mind to wonder why Kagaya still treats him like he’s fragile.
Well, is he ?
“Hmm.”
Giyuu kept standing near the cliffside, not near it but definitely near enough he could fall. The demon was almost completely gone to the wind in front of Sanemi, and thus, he placed his sword back in his sheath. He then crouched to rest his legs, now simply watching the sunrise as they waited for the Kakushi to arrive.
What was it, like, two minutes? The battle lasted so quick he didn’t even sweat. Giyuu didn’t seem to struggle either. The demon wasn’t even a Lower Moon to begin too. The fact the mission was too damn easy just confirmed to him that Kagaya just matched them up for the sake of a much-needed conversation between the two of them. Essentially, he was playing matchmaker or some kind of shit.
In front of him, Giyuu’s crow came and landed on his arm. Sanemi watched as the the crow gave him news and then it flew away again.
“I don’t have a mission. You’re right,” Giyuu suddenly stated. “I am to return to Yamato for the meantime though.”
“You’re not going back home? Or to HQ?” Sanemi asked as a Kakushi crew member finally appeared and jogged up to the kids they saved, hiding behind a rock.
When Giyuu took a while to answer, he glanced at the unconscious children as they were safely laid next to each other in stretchers. The other Kakushi went to inspect the broken house where he and Giyuu found the demon.
Eyes back at the Water Hashira, who remained speechless still standing near the cliff. Sanemi clawed at his own palms itching at the urge to pull him back by the nape of his uniform.
“Oyakata-sama is too far,” Giyuu finally answered slowly. “I’ll stay in Yamato for patrol and then travel to Yoshiwara.”
“Yoshiwara?” The fuck? “Why?”
Giyuu looked tired, perhaps even sleepy. “You’ve been there before.”
Of course he know that. “Why Yoshiwara?”
A certain warmth suddenly reached his arm, and thus—the sun finally came to rise. Sanemi stood and stretched his back as the sun slowly rose past the trees in the mountain slope. The first of the rays reached Giyuu first and then Sanemi, where the former’s shadow overlapped his in a tight angle. They watched in blissful silence as the sky glistened from dark blues to romantic dawn orange—warm against the cold demons love, smooth against skin hastily scarred.
“And isn’t Yamato already taken as post?” Sanemi asked passively as he hopped onto a tree branch, ready to take off for the next station. While the two of them only stopped to watch the sun rise out of habit, he hated how they also developed the habit of immediately taking off after the sun appears as a full circle in the sky.
(Kagaya informed him that there was a sighting of Enmu in Ishikawa up north, where he probably took refuge after letting Rengoku go. The Corps head had enough decency to allow Sanemi to take the mission. If anyone were to ask the Wind Hashira, he’d just settle it at an “unfinished business” with that pale son of a bitch.)
Giyuu was already walking to the opposite direction, very much in contrast to him hopping by the trees. Before they get out of each other’s earshot, Sanemi asked one more.
“Who’s patrolling Yamato anyway?” Are you going to be okay, Giyuu?
“Kocho.” I should be fine.
Sanemi sighed. Are you sure?
Giyuu waved goodbye. Yes.
They didn’t say anything else. Sanemi believed he already said what he meant to say.
“Shinazugawa-san…?”
He opened his eyes, hand instinctively tracing his sword strapped on his waist even if he held a half-eaten ohagi.
Dark purple eyes peered down at him and he jumped out of surprise. Staring back at him was none other than Shinobu Kocho herself, as if summoned from the depths of his flashbacks. He sighed in relief and also annoyance.
“Are you sleeping?”
He might have been, for he doesn’t know how long he closed his eyes for. For a second, he thought a certain someone else was staring down at him. Certain blue eyes could easily be mistaken for purple.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, straightening and stuffing the rest of the ohagi to his mouth. Cheeks full and hands dirty, he stood up and dusted his palms.
She just stared at him blankly, and he took notice of a small potted plant in a basket on her back. He also spotted her tsuguko nearby, distracted with a bouquet of flowers she cradled to her chest and a pink butterfly that flies nearby—and oh.
Sanemi has to thank the gods for blessing him with good eyesight. Glancing at Kanao’s bouquet, he made out a “Late Spring Flowers” tag on the string. That’s probably where he is.
That’s the one Muichiro said was the flower shop Giyuu frequents, apparently.
“I just went by to pick up some new plants for the mansion,” she said with a gentle smile. Sanemi almost forgot she’s still there. “How about you? Isn’t Tomioka already stationed here after me?”
Sanemi doesn’t know how to reply. So he is here. “Yes..and?”
Shinobu kept staring. “ I take it you’re on a leisurely stroll then?”
In an entertainment district…of all places? Both of them knew that would be bullshit. Sanemi decided wisely not to answer that.
Although, Shinobu’s purple eyes are all-knowing. While it is so dark he almost always had no idea what she’s thinking, he knew she’s anything and everything but honest. If anything, she’s even playful with the matters of the heart. Very much unlike Kanae, if one were to ask Sanemi.
As Shinobu stared at him vacantly, he gets more and more uncomfortable to the second. Shinobu stares like she knows all of his mortal sins, and knowing her wit and determination, she probably already does. He clears his throat.
“So what?”
She didn’t reply, resorting to staring him down until he lets it go. Works every single time.
“Ah well! Can you please drop these off to Tomioka-san before you leave? I forgot to give him these and I have to rush home now.”
“What—“
Shinobu suddenly dug onto her backet and shoved a medium-sized cloth sack to his chest. Filled with heavy round things, he wasn’t even able to ask what they were when Shinobu already leapt away. Her tsuguko also disappeared after her.
“They’re apples from the Oyakata-sama’s orchard. Rengoku-san picked them himself,” Shinobu explained, now perched on the roof of a shop. No one noticed given how quick they moved—so quick that by the next time Sanemi blinked, they’re already gone. He’s worried for the plants if it’s Shinobu who delivers it.
Ah well. The apples looked fresh and ripe red, the kind that would crunch and not get mushy so fast.
Well thanks to that, he now had a legitimate reason to find Tomioka Giyuu.
Speaking of the man of the hour, hopefully he isn’t having too much fun yet.
Days prior…
Tomioka Giyuu had absolutely no idea Yoshiwara was that kind of district, smelling of sex and sin everywehte. So that’s why Sanemi looked so disturbed and concerned when he told him.
Seeing the district as bright red specks of light when he arrived, he realized he wandered to a town that makes night so bright it might as well become alive. It initially made him uneasy, knowing the size of the crowd that only awakens when the moon shines. He wondered where and how he would stay in such a place. There should be legitimate inns here somewhere.
“Tomioka-san!” A cheery voice greeted him, and by habit, he looked up from where the moon was at the sky. There Shinobu was, ready to end her shift and pass it to him. She landed in front of him with grace, as if she weighs nothing at all.
“Good evening! How are you?”
“My body feels fine,” he replied, but based on the squint she had on her face, that was not the answer she was looking for.
“What’s on your mind?”
Shinobu’s eyes went from his body to his face, already deducing whether or not he lied. He was truthful however; the scars on the skin did start healing.
“Oh, are you perhaps having qualms?”
“Can I ask where you stayed, Kocho?” he started. “I’d rather not sleep in a brothel or spend the night somewhere loud.”
She chuckled at the last statement, though he was too tired to even acknowledge such reaction.
“Loud? Oh, you don’t want to stay in a brothel?” she teased. “When Uzui-san stayed to patrol, he didn’t really had problems finding accommodation. Now why do you, I wonder?”
“Well, I’m not Uzui,” he sighed.
“Fair point.” She clicked her tongue and continued when he didn’t talk further. “I stayed in a wisteria house. There’s one near a flower shop called Late Spring. It might be difficult to find, so just look for a blue iris patch and it will be nearby.”
Giyuu thanked her with a nod, and she smiled back. While it is her professional job to tend to them, being her special-case patient for an entire month did wonders to his healing and their friendship. While Tanjiro, that boar kid, and Shinobu’s girls kept him company, it was the medical examinations with Kocho that stuck with him the most.
At the time, he thought it was her being scared shitless of what the 12 Moons are capable of. The pieces of his haori, his deep wounds, the fatal lesions in his mental health—it all proved nobody can come past the demon moons unscathed. Even Rengoku, who seemed too lucky to survive after two moons, was unable to show up for days due to the spells Enmu brought. He doesn’t seem to remember much about that.
“Take care, Tomioka-san,” she said, waving away as she left.
Now, perhaps he was wrong. Maybe, just maybe, he made an actual friend.
晩春の花
Late Spring Flowers
Present day…
Sanemi Shinazugawa spotted it within his predicted time of fifteen minutes. Engraved into a wood sign drilled onto a post was the “Late Spring Flowers” he ought to find.
That only reminded him:
Some time ago, he was in the headquarters when he ran onto Muichiro. They managed to find time to share a small snack together on Mui’s free day.
“Have you ever seen a blue iris?”
As always, the kid was talking to the air.
“Yes, why?” He remembered Kanae had a flower patch of some irises before.
It took him an entire ohagi before Muichiro replies. Not that he minds. He is a slow talker.
“There’s a blue iris patch in Yoshiwara,” he said. “It reminds me of…”
Sanemi got through two more ohagis before Muichiro continue. He was reaching for the water—wondering why the fuck Kagaya gave the entertainment district patrol to a fucking child before someone like Kocho, Giyuu, or Uzui, in that order—when Muichiro finally answered.
“…the Water Hashira,” he said, making Sanemi pause in his way to get his cup. “There’s one, right? What’s his name again?”
“Tomioka Giyuu,” he said, almost too quickly.
He downed the water and felt its chill down his parched throat. Hearing of Giyuu from Muichiro’s mouth seemed unreal. None of them actually thought either remembers the other.
“Oh,” Muichiro hummed, staring at his water cup. “I saw him. He’s always at that flower shop.”
“Huh?” Sanemi naturally exclaimed; for a second forgetting it wasn’t Tengen or Obanai talking with him. He cleared his throat with another sip. A flower shop?
“Yes. He didn’t interfere with my patrol so I didn’t care.” Muichiro finally stood, and Sanemi took it as a cue he’s about to leave.
“Why?” He knew he asked way too many questions at this point.
Muichiro didn’t answer.
“What flower shop was it?” He tried. Surprisingly, Muichiro tilted his head at this and reached deep in his pockets, pulling out a tag tied by a torn piece of tweed string. He dropped it in front of Sanemi, who caught it before it fell into his tea. He narrowed his eyes to such rudeness, just remembering how the Mist Hashira became the resident little shit in the Corps. What a little menace.
“You can have it…if you want.”
The tag on his hand reads “Late Spring Flowers”.
Does Giyuu have a girl he fancies now?
Sanemi steps inside the store, bells ringing from the door.
Just from outside the window, dozens of potted plants take up much of the floor space inside. Orchids and vines cover the ceiling and walls while huge windows appear to cover the wall opposite the door. Inside was brighter than he thought, and he wondered why.
“-Oh shit!”
He innocently pushed open the doors fully—a bad rookie mistake. The wind chimes rang so loud he jumped. The multiple glass chimes by the door jingled long after he closed it shut, he reached a hand up to halt the chimes from swinging. The whole street must have fucking heard that-
Suddenly, another hand came to stop the other bells.
He turned his head and saw a child smiling at him from atop a short ladder.
In all honesty, he expected someone else. Someone with ocean eyes.
“Hey…” he greeted uneasily.
The child smiled, genuinely glad to be of help. He watched her as she climbed back down with ease, going back to her seat behind the small wooden table he assumed was the store counter.
Is she the shopkeeper? At that height?
Bizarre. Sanemi quietly turned away and suddenly there he was—amidst the flowers and shrubs was a mass of half-and-half haori and bandages. Just like that, Sanemi found who he was looking for.
Tomioka Giyuu, who stood examining a few potted lavenders. He seemed to be unaware of Sanemi’s presence—either that or he just didn’t care—so he walked closer and faced the lavenders next to him. No reaction at all. There was only steady breathing and soft sighs, fingers tracing purple petals as if trying to find a perfect one.
Though, Giyuu had a point. The flowers were pretty. They are worth staring at. There was barely any floorspace to walk around except for a very small path between the pots. Everything is covered in purple, pink, red, blues and a lot of green. And as the sunlight flooded in from the large windows, the wind blowing from the outside gave him a good whiff of everything that reminded him of a certain Flower Hashira. She would have loved a place like this. He lifted a clueless hand to trace a lavender petal.
“You like that one?”
Finally, he acknowledged him.
“Here I thought you’re ignoring me.”
“But…you weren’t saying anything.” Giyuu blinked sheepishly.
In a way, it was enough. There was an odd feeling of release. If he had a guardian angel in this cruel world, it would tell him to rest right then and there. He bet if he closed his eyes, he’d drift to sleep. It was as if he reached the end of his errand—for he found who he wanted to find.
As odd as it may seem, it was as if Giyuu was also waiting to be found.
“Can I ask?”
Their eyes wander around the room, reaching everything but each other.
“Go ahead.”
Their hands were mere inches apart.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
“Excuse me?”
Giyuu whips his head to stare at him incredulously. It was the first time he looked ever since he got there, and knowing he was being looked at, Sanemi rolled his eyes. He could feel annoyance boil at the mere assumption, which he feared wasn’t the case…again.
The man in question relaxed and sighed.
“Well, I have nowhere else to go, so…”
“…”
Nobody spoke for a good second. When it sank in, however, Sanemi pointed exasperatedly to the shop’s open windows and the inns and brothels outside—as harsh and disruptive as he can.
“Are you serious? There are literal fucking inns outside.” He couldn’t even start. “What do you need the flowers for?”
You can tell me.
Giyuu seemed shocked out of his mind at Sanemi’s sudden outburst. Then, he simply retired, making his way to sit at a nearby bench surrounded by orchids and vines dangling from the ceiling. While there was a space for another beside Giyuu, Sanemi remained standing as he isn’t sure. He busies himself with a blue iris as he pretended not to care as much. The way Giyuu walks, it was as if his soul was tired.
“The flowers smell great. This is genuinely a beautiful place to stay in,” he explained. “I don’t have to patrol much anyway. Oyakata-sama said Shinobu and Tengen are covering for me.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Sanemi almost shouted, but instead, it came out as a sharp whisper.
“No,” was Giyuu’s immediate answer. Sanemi kept to himself again, unsure how to proceed. “I patrol at night to make up for it.”
Sanemi narrowed his eyes. As stoic as Giyuu might seem, he understood and widened his eyes.
“N-not like that. I actually patrol.”
No word from Sanemi.
“Sanemi,” he called, ears red and flustered.
“I’m not saying anything,” he defended.
The florist’s young assistant suddenly appeared next to him, smiling at him as she offered to pack the blue irises for him. Out of mere impulse—she looks so excited! It must be her first sale of the day—he nodded and let her arrange it onto a bouquet. What does a blue iris even mean? Even Muichiro had no idea. Does Giyuu know?
He spaced out.
Giyuu’s already talking.
“—think that this is the quietest place in here. There isn’t too many people and I don’t have to talk to anyone.”
The young assistant busied herself away from either of them, grabbing beautiful paper and using it to gather the flowers together. Sanemi raised a brow at this. Giyuu’s right, even this little shopkeeper isn’t talking. Where are her parents?
“Kioshi-chan’s mute,” Giyuu suddenly elaborated, pointing to the little girl with them. “She’s great company. Please be kind to her.”
Of course he would, he frowned at Giyuu, offended. What, does he think he’s gonna hit kids?
Oh, right. He stabbed one before.
“Do you want to sit?”
“With you?” Sanemi laughed.
Giyuu gave him another dead stare. Stating the obvious, he also patted the space next to him as if to confirm he had nowhere else to sit. “Would you…rather sit anywhere else?”
He relents, sitting down after swiping the orchids and vines on the way. Now, he understood why Giyuu must have liked the view. With the orchids acting as a frame, and the vines a touch of forest-like decor, directly in front of them was a perfect view of the red flower passageway and the world outside the district.
The burst of colors remind him of fireworks. The vines remind him of home. The cool-toned flowers remind him of morning dew.
It does feel like home.
It does feel like Giyuu.
“And you? Why are you here?” Giyuu asked, still tracing the delicate petals of bell-like foxgloves. “Can I ask who the irises are for?”
“Depends on what it means,” he answered with a huff. “I have no fucking idea what it means.”
“Oh?”
Sanemi froze. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yes. Did you…not mean to?”
Sanemi groaned, rolling his eyes.
The longer he stayes there, the dumber he looked. Why do flowers even have to communicate for people when they have literal mouths? And hands? And the entire postage system?
“I also don’t know what they mean, if it can make you feel better,” Giyuu said solemnly, looking down at his own handful of flowers. “I don’t even have any idea flowers have messages before I came here.”
“Then why did you come here?” Sanemi asked for the nth time, this time to inquire deeper. There must have been a reason. His brain and heart agreed to that conclusion for once in his goddamned life.
What is it that you want, Tomioka?
What the fuck are you looking for?
“To remind myself of things.”
Giyuu sighed, placing the flowers down on his lap. With a faraway gaze to the view in front, Giyuu looked more tired than ever. Even more than when they last met.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” Giyuu shrugged. “Like why I should live and things like that.”
For some reason, it sounded like something Muichiro would say. Trying to stop his voice from wavering, “What did you learn from flowers then?”
“They grow in the wild where the most terrifying storms attack. But they thrive. If the flowers don’t give up in storms, why should I?” he said, in a way that Sanemi thinks he is mostly speaking to himself. “See, the meaning doesn’t matter here. As long as you give things a meaning, it will do.”
There was a tired battered soul inside his strong shell, Sanemi just figured. Giyuu is the very sensation of sleepwalking—of living while dead, a love that could be, and of leaps not taken.
“What do foxgloves mean then? To you?” Sanemi asked, for the sake of having something to say.
“That I’m alive,” Giyuu said, smiling and holding it up to the light. It was the most animated he’d gotten that day. “That life is a beautiful thing.”
Sanemi’s heart ached, pierced by a sword that nobody held.
Then Giyuu smiled.
“I just made that up.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Giyuu’s very heartbeat is a melody for a man so torn by misery. Nobody deserves pain in this cruel world. Not Giyuu, not Shinobu, not him. When mortal men got through enough pain, being a demon becomes their salvation. And now, sitting next to Giyuu with his ever-so-tired eyes—Sanemi wished he was never a demon slayer at all.
Slaying demons is a job for the already cruel. People in pain, children who could have a long life, Giyuu—Genya —this isn’t their job.
It’s his punishment to bear. His sins to atone. And it’s his alone.
As if on cue, raindrops littered the ground past the window and people scattered to find shelter. Looks like the gods answered through the clouds; they gave Sanemi a sad pitiful “No”.
He knew the world is cruel. Their lives were mere afterthoughts for the sake of the greater good. It’s always been like that. Always had been.
Still, he wished it hadn’t been.
“Giyuu,” Sanemi sighed. He stared at the old wooden floors as he puts the flowers back. “What is this? What are you doing? Why?”
“Why what?” was his immediate answer, but even he looked forlorn after he did.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” he finally asked.
His subconscious unlocked the reason he sought Tomioka Giyuu in the first place—for he cannot sleep. There was a certain ache of guilt, or anger, upon realizing Giyuu kept everything to himself, and so here he was seeking answers once more. He had a feeling he had to see him once again, in fear he was keeping more pain inside than he let on.
“When the moons attacked you, why are we left in the dark?”
“…Because I can’t write the report?”
“I’m not here for fucking mind games. Why?” Sanemi looked at him.
“Because Oyakata-sama told me not to tell you?” Giyuu furrowed his brows in confusion, getting increasingly alarmed.
“That was because he knew you’d send a crow instead of actually talking. Why didn’t you talk to us? Why are we uninformed for months? And what if Rengoku didn’t have the report, what then?”
Sanemi stood, closing his eyes in an attempt to control his rising anger and the voice that came with it. Not only was it not the right time, there was a child nearby and it’s not the right place. There it is. It is spilling. There are too much loose threads, unanswered inquiries. As much as he hated it, he is right back to square one. He cannot sleep again. It’s much like when Giyuu got attacked the first time.
The Water Hashira sat there staring, eyes wide and arms to himself as he witnessed a very much unexpected outburst. Sanemi continued. He’s here anyway. He better let it all out now.
“Kyojurou’s report about Enmu and Akaza’s encounters helped. Immensely, Giyuu, immensely. Just us knowing about the attack will help save lives. Hell, Mitsuri could have been dead if she didn’t know about Enmu’s eyes, for heaven’s sake! It’s because Rengoku told us. He warned us. Why didn’t you?”
“I thought we can’t ask each other questions, Sanemi?” Giyuu suddenly deflected, much to his expectations. Sanemi scoffed and paced around, feeling his own frustration boil over inside. “I thought we agreed that we can’t ask each other about things like that.”
“This is about the Corps!”
“The Corps?” Giyuu frowned, now truly annoyed.
“We are bound by rules, Giyuu. Need I remind you, if you’re not going to take it seriously—“
“I almost died!”
Giyuu suddenly stood, eye to eye with him, the tension steadily rising along with the heat.
“Why are you so caught up on me? What does it all matter to you?” Giyuu pointed to him, his finger almost touching him but it didn’t. “I told you everything. I told you even if I- What else do you want from me?”
“You only told me because Oyakata forced us to talk!” Sanemi fought back. “Just why didn’t you tell any of us?”
Why didn’t you tell me first?
Tears glistened in ocean blue eyes.
“I don’t think any of you would even really listen, let alone understand,” he cried.
The pin drops and it’s the heaviest he ever heard.
“I didn’t tell Iguro because he hates me. Rengoku-san won’t even hear me talk. Uzui’s too busy. And I only told Shinobu because it’s a medical assessment. I can’t even talk to Muichiro so I just gave him an iris hoping he’d get it. And I only told you because of- I just-” Giyuu took a deep breath and turned away, choking and stumbling over his own words. “Now you follow me to nowhere and tell me that- Are you serious, Shinazugawa? Since when?”
“Giyuu, that’s not why-” Sanemi swallowed.
“Right,” he retorted. “You only changed because you knew that if it was you, you would die. That’s why all of you were oddly quiet, isn’t it.”
“We care, Giyuu, okay?!”
Giyuu placed the flowers down. Voice steady yet on the verge of breaking, quiet but powerful enough for him to hear.
“Okay. How would I know? How am I supposed to know? You don’t pay attention to anything but things that angers you. Why suddenly this? What do you want from me?”
Sanemi blinked, scoffing. That’s what Giyuu got wrong—dead wrong with the large bright X.
Because he paid attention.
This entire time.
One time, Muichiro spoke to them for what feels like the first time, saying that he found sitting next to Giyuu the most liberating yet pressuring place to be, and ever since, they never sat together again. Giyuu doesn’t even look like he was listening back then, but he was. Sanemi was watching the entire time.
One time, in the headquarters, when Obanai and Tengen ran late to the dinner, he noticed Giyuu take aside two more bowls of rice and some viand. He kept it by himself only to put it on the empty seats when the two came back, who were surprised there were still food left for them. Only he seemed to notice how it happened and who did it, but Sanemi never told his friends it was Giyuu.
And another time, when the two of them coincidentally met in the swordsmith village, a young boy excitedly approached Giyuu and told him that his sword was forged by his father and that it was their pride to craft the Water Hashira’s sword. Ever since, Sanemi noticed Giyuu just kept resharpening his sword as he wanted no other.
And even now, that Nichirin blade that survived Upper Moon 3 and Lower Moon 1 with scratches and chips was still strapped to his belt.
And Sanemi noticed everything.
And only recently, did he finally understand what it all entailed.
Tomioka Giyuu—he wasn’t a self-righteous asshole, nor a cold-blooded freak, nor a mightier-than-thou wannabe-saint who thinks low of the rest of them. Though he may be a shut-in like Shinobu said, and a weird impulsive maniac who protected a demon from a slayer—within those hazy eyes was a sea constantly troubled by storms, looking for nothing but a lighthouse to finally guide him home.
In his sea, he was alone. For what seemed like years since he became a slayer, the pitch black surrounding his vessel was a thick wall preventing him from seeing who else could be outside.
The closest he had ever gotten to doing so was when he found Tanjiro and his sister, and even then he was insane for deducing what could be suicide for the Corps, and literal suicide for him. He was right about Nezuko being different, but still.
Sanemi had no idea how long Giyuu had been in such a bizarre state of mind—suicidal and impulsive—though if he was willing to tell, he would listen. Is Giyuu even willing to tell?
In Sanemi’s silence, he found his answer. For a question asked, an answer came in a simple stare.
“I do pay attention,” Sanemi finally replied gently. “That’s how I found you here.”
Giyuu sniffed, sitting back down. “You are one hell of a force.”
There was a faint glimmer of a smile as he spoke even with his head down, but Sanemi doubted its roots.
“I get that often,” he sighed.
“Being powerful?”
“Being hell.” Sanemi joked, to which Giyuu scoffed weakly back to.
Alas, the wind blew. Even if the world outside is broken, nothing feels more whole than it did this moment.
Yes, he concluded. He can wait for Giyuu to tell. His smile was the one thing that made the answer clear. It was everything he wanted to see, he just realized. His smile eased his tense features—the wrinkle between his eyebrows, the jaw locked in place, the eyes frozen into the past. There is no word in his entire vocabulary that can describe the happiness of a man who felt like he deserves death more than anyone.
Ah well. If he’s one hell of a force, then to see Giyuu’s smile is one hell of a sight. He looked golden and forgiving. He smiles like the sky just calmed his turbulent seas. He smiles like he was an old man greeting death like an old pal. He smiles like lady luck smiles down at people who receive forgiveness.
As his newly found friend, Sanemi can only hope that one day, Giyuu learns to forgive himself too.
Alas, two sinners stuck in a flower shop in the middle of a rain, all while the crows cry.
“Hey, Giyuu.”
“What?”
“There’s a noodle shop Rengoku told us to try. It’s near the headquarters,” he said, receiving the wrapped blue iris Kioshi made for him. He had a mind to mutter her a small apology for his small outburst, though he only gave her his bag of gold coins.
“That’s nice.” Giyuu looked like he didn’t want to leave.
“I want to take you there.”
He didn’t receive a reply.
Sanemi looked back and locked eyes with the dead yet calm sea in Giyuu, and just then he realized what blue irises must have meant to him. He nodded as a goodbye, and Giyuu nods back. He opened the door and its noisy chimes came, though he knew it was coming this time.
He made sure to leave two of the irises behind. One for Kioshi and the other for the man who just realized he wasn’t an afterthought for once in his life. The rest may have been for Kanae’s birthday, but he knew she won’t mind a bouquet of two less than a dozen.
Tomioka Giyuu is worth a blue iris anyway. Kanae wouldn’t mind and neither will he.
Giyuu sees he left him a sack of apples. It must be from Rengoku.
Fin.