pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader
remarks: why do i do this why do i make myself suffer
In hindsight, you should have known the second you saw the site of the train wreck with your own eyes.
“Kyoujurou!” You call, doing your best to keep your breathing and emotions in check as your eyes sweep the place. You’ve been running desperately, following the railway tracks along the route that you know the Infinity Train to have taken — hoping, begging, that you wouldn’t find any casualties along the way.
Your kasugai crow, which you use more to keep in contact with Kyoujurou than anything else, had informed you of Upper Moon Three’s appearance when you’d just finished clearing a forest of demons, much to your horror. You know the Flame Pillar is strong, incredibly so, but to face an upper ranked demon right after dealing with Lower Moon One is an impossible task.
If anyone can do the impossible, though, it’s Kyoujurou. You have to believe in him.
The closer you get to the wreckage, your seasoned senses can already pick out smaller details of the battle from the night before — the acrid smell of burning ash that still lingers in the air, the dented metal of the toppled train carriages. Although your lungs burn from exertion, you push yourself onwards, frantic to confirm with your own eyes that Kyoujurou is still alright.
Nothing is going to happen to him, you chant to yourself in your mind, over and over. Kyoujurou is going to be alright. He has to be.
You barely spare the casualties at the side of the tracks a glance as you leap onto the wreckage of the carriages, eyes desperately scanning around you for a glimpse of that familiar flame emblazoned haori. Most of them seem to be only suffering from flesh wounds, which means that Kyoujurou and the three that joined him have been successful at keeping civilian losses to a minimum. You allow yourself to cling to hope for a brief moment. They’re alright, so Kyoujurou must be as well–
Or rather, you see the back of him as he kneels on the ground next to the wreckage, a boy in a green checkered haori sobbing in front of him. Your breath hitches, and then you’re running, shouting his name.
The boy glances up in shock at your voice, his eyes and cheeks wet with tears, but you hardly pay him any heed as you come to a stop in front of your best friend, nearly falling over from how fast you’re going. “Kyoujurou, the crow told me that you encountered Upper Moon Three, I couldn’t reach fast enough to provide backup, are you…” Your words die into a strangled sound in your throat. “…alright…”
Kyoujurou looks up at you and your panic only grows when you see the red staining his smile, the familiar one that is only reserved for you and Senjurou. His remaining eye fixes on you, slightly wavering, so gentle you want to cry in anguish.
“I didn’t think you’d run all the way here just because I haven’t replied your last letter.” He says, but his words are nothing but white noise in your ears, your gaze transfixed on the blood that just keeps seeping from the hole in his torso. His voice is so strained, so weak. “I was going to tell you that sweet potatoes were better than yam, but–”
His words are cut off into a pained gasp as you tear the haori off your shoulders and press it to the wound on his stomach, praying that he hasn’t lost enough blood to put him in the grave. “What are the lot of you doing standing around and crying for?” You bellow at the two junior demon slayers, who flinch back at the volume of your voice. “Earring boy, help me staunch the bleeding from the back with your haori! Or have you learnt nothing but swinging swords from your trainer?”
Kyoujurou’s bloodstained hand rests on your trembling ones as you apply pressure to the wound, while the other brushes tears that you didn’t even know were falling from your eyes. “It’s alright–”
“Shut up!” You scream at him, so fiercely that Kyoujurou actually recoils, his expression one of shock. He’s never seen you lose your composure like this, not after hearing about the deaths of your comrades, not even after the passing of your father whose haori you’re currently pressing to his wound. “Shut up, Kyoujurou, just… shut up! You’re bleeding out in front of me! It’s alright? It’s alright? Are you fucking with me?”
“That’s not what I meant-”
“You’re asking me to watch you die!” You snarl, fingers tightening so hard in the fabric of your haori there’s the sound of ripping fabric. “It might be alright with you, but don’t you dare think that I’m going to be okay with you dying in front of me! Use total concentration breathing to slow your blood flow! Don’t make me watch you die!”
Kyoujurou blinks up at you slowly, watching as tears flow down your cheeks uncontrollably, the way your shoulders tremble with barely repressed emotion. He’s so exhausted, and his body is in so much pain that he just wants this to be over so that he can join his mother in rest, but you’re crying.
You’re crying, and it’s because of him.
And because it’s you, he parts his lips and forces himself to breathe.
Deep, measured breaths, just like he was teaching the Kamado boy a few moments ago. There are too many injuries to concentrate on, so he focuses on slowing his circulation so you won’t have to see his blood on your hands. Gritting his teeth, he takes one more deep breath to steel himself and forces the blood vessel to stop the bleeding.
Pain rips through him, clawing at his abdomen and a choked, soundless scream escapes Kyoujurou before he can swallow it. White flashes in his vision and he so damn badly wants to give up, but then your fingers are suddenly there, stroking his cheeks and begging him to stay with you. He clings to your voice even as waves of pain rock through him, as if you’re his lifeline and he’s a man drowning. You need him. He can’t go just yet.
When the blinding agony finally subsides just slightly, he finds himself lying on his back, tear tracks running down the sides of his face and his throat raw from screaming. You brush his tears away with the sleeve of your uniform, pressing your lips to his hairline. “You’re doing so well, Kyoujurou.” You tell him. His entire body feels sluggish, completely drained. There’s a light smack on his cheek. “Come on, talk to me. I’ve already called for a surgeon in the area, so you have to wait until he’s here. Don’t go to sleep just yet. You still haven’t told me why sweet potatoes are better than yam.”
“Sweet potatoes…” He forces his remaining eye to focus on your face, trying to remember your every feature. “I like the ones you and Senjurou make for me the most. The ones we make together on the first day of autumn. They’re always so warm and good.” The blood tastes like iron in his mouth, and suddenly he’s standing next to a pile of burning leaves in the yard of the Rengoku family home, poking at them with a long stick.
There’s a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to see you standing there in a thick kimono decorated with russet and crimson maple leaves for autumn, Senjurou clinging to your sleeve. He tells you that you look beautiful and your cheeks turn a hint crimson, mumbling your thanks shyly. Senjurou chatters excitedly about the roasted sweet potatoes in the fire, while his own face warms at your response, heart throbbing in his chest.
We’ve been making roasted sweet potatoes since we were children, Kyoujurou. You still can’t tell when they’re cooked or not?
He never tells you that he doesn’t want to learn, so that he can keep inviting you to his home year after year to make them together.
The sweet potatoes the three of you shared always taste the best. No matter how simple they are, nothing can compare to them in the way they warm his heart.
“Mm, we used to make them so that you would give Kanroji a break from training.” You slap his cheek again, a little harder this time. Kyoujurou blinks blearily in realization that his eyes were slipping shut, instantly feeling guilty, but he’s just so tired. “Don’t sleep yet, Kyoujurou. Senjurou was telling me about how his broom broke yesterday, and he’s waiting for you to get back from this mission so that we can get a new one from the market together.”
“A new… broom? Ahh, I just fixed the old one before I left, it mustn’t have been enough.” Kyoujurou’s head spins, and his breathing comes out shallow. He tries to breathe right, he really does, but he’s losing strength with each passing second. “He was telling me about a new vendor in the market selling konpeito, so he wants to try making some. It’s simple, so Senjurou said I could try making some and giving it to you as a gift.”
“That sounds nice.” You hum, your voice trembling slightly, although Kyoujurou doesn’t know why. His entire body feels heavy, and his head rests in the softness of your lap. It’s warm and comforting and familiar. Kyoujurou used to do this after a long session of training, before the two of you had become Pillars with your own missions, your own paths taking you apart. Simpler, happier times, a long, long time ago. “When we go home, let’s make a fire and roast sweet potatoes together again, alright?”
“It’s not autumn yet, though… There won’t be enough fallen leaves.” Your hand finds Kyoujurou’s, and he squeezes it weakly. So warm. “I’m really tired… could I nap… for just a bit?”
Kyoujurou faintly hears a choked sob, feels your fingers stroking through his hair and your lips against his forehead. “Okay.” You finally whisper after a heartbeat, your voice cracking at the edges. “You’ve done wonderfully, Kyoujurou. I’m so, so proud of you.”
He feels the corners of his mouth lift in joy at your praise. “Will you still be here… when I wake up?”
“Of course.” You kiss his eyelid, the tip of his nose, then his cheek. “I’ll always be with you, Kyoujurou. We promised each other since we were kids, am I right?”
“Okay.” He murmurs. Relief settles deep into his weary bones, and he allows himself to stop fighting the exhaustion dragging him under. You’ll be there when he opens his eyes again. “When I wake up… I have something important… I wanted to tell you…”
You wait for him to continue, but Rengoku Kyoujurou falls silent and still – and stays that way. His warm smile remains on his face, and you fight back your tears to press a featherlight kiss against his brow, so that you don’t disturb his peaceful slumber.
“I love you too.” You whisper back, your voice hushed with unshed tears. Your hand, stained with his blood, cups his cheek gently. “Goodnight and sweet dreams, Kyoujurou.”
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