"He wondered if your silences came from the same kind of fear that had ruled so much of his early life, the urge to stay invisible, quiet, and out of harm's way."
✦ Pairing — [Giyu x Reader]
✦ Rating — T
✦ Warnings/Tropes - [Protective Giyu, Runaway Reader, Yoshiwara District, Oiran Reader, Artist Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Badass Giyu, Giyu is Bad at Feelings, He Thinks Love is a Fever, Touch-Starved, He literally buys her freedom, Mutual Pining]
✦ Status — In Progress
✦ Summary ✦
Escaping the Yoshiwara district as a runaway Oiran was supposed to be a death sentence. You were prepared for the harsh wilderness to take you out, but you weren't prepared for Tomioka Giyu.
After a chance encounter in a hollowed-out camphor tree during a storm, the famously stoic Water Hashira decides to become your personal protector. Now, he's determined to buy your freedom and escort you to a safe haven, even if it means fighting his way through every mercenary in the city.
——— ✦ ———
✦ Check out my Patreon for more content. I'm four chapters ahead on my fics there.
✦ THE MAIN UNIVERSE ✦ Love my writing? Check out my Gothic Romantasy novel— Liquid Sunlight.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"Fuck." I said aloud as I realize the egg was ruined. I tossed it into the basket with the dozen others I had made poorly. I couldn't serve her this trash. I needed everything to be perfect. Or close to it anyway.
I don't think she realizes it, but before she fell asleep she told me she loved me.
More surprisingly, it made me feel all fluttery and shit inside.
I'm not gonna say I feel the same. But, it felt good to hear. And I had a dream about her. And woke up happy to see her. Now here I am trying to make her the best damn breakfast she's ever had.
She's not too bad. Not as irritating as she used to be. Gorgeous.
I released the breath that built up in me. I don't have time for these feelings and shit.
Great, this egg is finally perfect. I thought to myself.
I carefully placed it on top of her dish. This would help her with her healing. She needs to eat well.
I grabbed our bowls and walked to my bedroom. We could eat in bed. Something she's newly got me doing.
I walked in through the already opened door to see she was still sleeping.
I sat our bowls on the small table I had in the room and then kneeled beside her on the bed.
"Hey, wake up Siren. I've got food for you." I told her lightly laughing at the nickname.
She stirred lightly. Letting out a small stretch with a cute little smile on her face before opening her eyes. I just knew she was going to say something steamy. I found myself looking forward to it.
When our eyes locked I smiled, ready to hear whatever stupid compliment she had.
I was so caught off guard by the look in her eye that I didn't register that she had sat up and punched me.
"What the fuck?"
She punched me again, and this time I knew her hand broke.
"What are you doing?" I asked catching her arm by the wrist before she could hit me, and hurt herself again.
She got up in a frenzy and grabbed the table, the food I worked so hard on falling to the ground, and then threw it at me.
What the fuck! I thought.
"Did I do something wrong? What happened? What's the matter?" I asked her. I was so confused. She was smiling when I woke her but when she looked at me it all changed. I don't think I did anything wrong. So I don't know why she's so upset with me.
"Y/N?"
She grabbed the chopsticks that fell on the floor and charged at me. I snatched the chopsticks out of her hands then I grabbed her arms to stop her from approaching me.
"What's going on Y/N?"
She screamed.
I dropped the chopsticks and my arms. Now trying to observe her. She was hitting me anywhere and everywhere. I realized she was still hitting with the broken hand and snapped out of it.
There was clearly something wrong. That hurts like hell and there's no way she'd just be hitting me with her broken hand. She's clearly not in her right mind. Could she be sleep walking? I thought.
"Hey. Sweets? You in there?" I asked reaching out to touch her face.
Just for a moment, she faltered. She blinked slowly once, twice, and then she snapped again.
She bit my hand. It probably wasn't a good idea to put it on her face but I didn't think that far ahead.
She bit me like she was trying to take a chunk out of it. I tried to get her to let go by trying to shake my hand out but she wouldn't let go.
I was starting to feel really stressed. I didn't want to hurt her, but getting my hand out of her grip would require me to force her jaw open.
"Y/N....please." I said, growing more exasperated the more pain I felt from her bite as she had broken the skin already.
I grabbed her wrists with my free hand. Finally preventing her from hitting me.
"I'm sorry." I told her before knocking her unconscious. It felt less extreme than forcing her mouth open. She fell right into me, her jaws slack now.
I ran my thumb across her bottom lip, wiping the blood she drew from my hand away. I began to feel something like sadness in my chest looking down at her face. I was feeling so guilty for hitting her. I picked her up and then laid her back in the bed, before I cleaned up the mess.
While in the kitchen I made more food for her. She would really need to eat.
Whatever is going on with her I hope the sleep helps.
————
I sat anxiously in the sitting room while I listened to her wake up.
"Ouch." She mumbled. I could imagine her rubbing her jaw. I really should have done it a different way. I can't believe I hit her.
"Sanemi, where are you?" Her songbird voice, slightly scratchy, called out.
"Out here. I'll be right back, just go ahead and eat."
"I don't feel so well." She replied after a few seconds. "My hand looks swollen."
"Hurts actually." She added after a few beats of silence.
I released the breath I was holding. "Do you remember what happened before you went back to sleep?"
"No. What do you mean?" She asked. Her tone one of confusion.
"Okay, well eat your food and I'll be in there in a second okay? I'll refresh your memory."
"Okay." She said.
I sighed.
She'll eat and I won't get beaten. Sounds like she's back to herself as well. That was so weird. I don't know what happened earlier. Maybe she was sleepwalking.
"You done?" I called after maybe 10 minutes, looking at the doorway in case she got up.
"Yeah." She called back. "I thought you were coming back."
"I am." I braced myself before getting off of the couch. I was hesitant to face her again.
"When?"
"Now."
"Okay." She answered.
I walked quickly to the door and peaked in, stepping back just before she noticed me.
One final breath.
"Did you like your food?" I asked her fully stepping into the room.
"Yes! It was inc-". She stopped talking the moment she laid eyes on me.
It's like all the light left her eyes and she just flipped again.
I took a step back, feeling anxious and sick. She's already harboring a broken hand, something is definitely wrong.
There are no words to describe what I felt when her eyes zeroed in on my sword in the corner of the room.
My speed had never been an issue. Ever. But I felt like I was moving in slow motion trying to stop her. I made it to her just in time of her grabbing it, and was holding onto her wrist and the sheath, keeping her from pulling the sword out.
"Sorai!"
"Caw! Yes?"
"Get Gyomei here would you? I need someone to get her to the butterfly mansion for me."
"Yes. I'm on it."
I knew my crow would get the message delivered quickly but would it be quick enough that I wouldn't have to hurt her again?
She struggled against my grip, never once relaxing her hold on my sword.
"I need you to stop Doll." I told her quietly.
Her response was a grunt.
"Let go please." I said, pushing her hand holding the hilt, so the sword would go back inside the case.
A menacing snarl left her mouth, taking me aback. It didn't sound like her and was so foreign.
I snatched my sword from her, and tossed it to the side then grabbed both her wrists in one hand. I pushed her against the wall. Her hands were now raised above her head, kept in place with my grip.
She wasted no time snapping at me, trying to bite me again. I grabbed her jaw with my free hand, pressing firm enough to hold her head in place against the wall, ceasing her movements.
I looked in her eyes. She clearly was not there. I felt infuriated and relieved all at once.
"Who the fuck are you?" I murmured mostly to myself.
She was lost. There was nothing but blinding rage in those eyes that used to look at me with adoration.
I hated whatever did this to her. She didn't deserve to be lost. Detached from her own thoughts.
My grip loosened unconsciously. She took full advantage, attempting to head butt me.
I sighed.
"I'm so sorry Songbird." I said.
I could feel her body almost trembling, trying to break free with all the strength she had in her body.
"I'll fix this for you. I'll get this fixed."
Of course there was no change in her reaction. She was still trying to hurt me, no thought or desire stronger apparently.
As I waited for help to arrive I could tell she was becoming restless. I don't know if she was fighting to gain control or what but she started to make grunting noises, her eyes watery and red. She was most likely uncomfortable.
I let go of her arms and almost immediately she tried choking me.
"Sorry." I mumbled as I grabbed her wrists, and pulled her hands from my neck. There was no part of me that wanted to be rough with her.
I was so worried about hurting her, I didn't recognize I was leaving myself open in other ways until her teeth clamped down on the tendon between my neck and shoulder.
Now how the hell am I supposed to get her off without hurting her? I thought as I tensed up. She was trying to break skin, that's for sure, any minute now she'd draw blood. Again!
"Stop please." I said placing my hand on the side of her face.
Nothing. Still no sign of her.
I could feel the separation growing from where she was starting to tear between the muscle.
"Sorry." I muttered before knocking her out again.
I couldn't stop myself from gently kissing her forehead apologetically.
Her weight now slumped against me, I laid her down slowly onto the bed. It was like dejavu.
————
I'm not sure how much time passed but the footsteps outside the door told me it wasn't who it should've been. My gaze was already on the door when Genya came into view.
"What the fuck are you doing here! Where's Gyomei?"
"He was busy so he sent me instead."
"Absolutely not. Sorai I need someone else!"
"I'd like to help. I- I'm here."
"No." My mind was racing thinking of who I could get. Then it hit me, the answer was obvious really. Her roommates. They could stay with her until I can get Kocho here.
But it would probably be hard to get them to leave after.
I sighed as I realized that wasn't gonna work for me.
Maybe beef brain. Or one of his wives maybe.
The gentle stirring from her caught my attention. I was running out of time. And if my theory was correct I needed to be out of here before she saw me.
Fuck!
I stood quickly, and grabbed my sword, pushing Genya out of my doorway and into the living room.
"Listen here idiot. If anything happens to her I'll kill you. All you need to do is make sure she's comfortable and safe. Don't let her leave. Keep your fucking hands to yourself. If she tries to attack you, let her. Suck it up and take it, don't you dare lay a finger on her. Don't even slightly raise your voice at her. Protect her with your fucking life if it comes to it. Got that?"
Genya nodded frantically, his eyes wide.
"Say it!"
"I've got it. I promise."
I grabbed him by the hem of his vest. "I will kill you if anything happens to her."
"Yes I understand."
I threw him to the side before leaving.
I couldn't worry. I didn't want to anyway. These feelings were making me uncomfortable and reminding me why I don't do this. It's way too much. If Shinobu can't help us I would never be able to live it down. Whatever is wrong has to be my fault. I know it.
—————
"Sanemi..." you mumbled. Your head was throbbing and your hand was feeling heavy but almost numb. It was the strangest sensation.
"Uh...um. Hi. Er he's not here." A voice answered coming from the doorway.
Your body tensed up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. You didn't know what was happening and you began crying and shaking uncontrollably. You couldn't see your hands in front of you through the blur of your tears.
"I'm sorry." The voice spoke out.
"Where is he?" You managed to get out without stuttering.
"He left to get you help."
"Who are you?" You sniffled.
"I'm Genya Shinazugawa. I'm....his brother." He hesitated.
You remembered Sanemi insisted he didn't have a brother. You were in pain, you were confused, you didn't know what was happening but you knew Sanemi wouldn't leave you alone unless he really had to. Not after last night.
You wiped your tears away with your good hand. Despite the trepidation in your heart, you turned your head to look at him.
This Genya was standing near the door way. The steady afternoon light from the window basking him in a warm glow that allowed you to see him clearly.
You felt relieved seeing his face. He looked so much like Sanemi. Down to the scars on his face, you could tell he was his brother. This helped you feel at ease despite seeing the weaponry on his hips. You recognized the similarity between his outfit and the one Sanemi wore for work, although he was wearing a purple vest over his.
"Hi Genya. I'm y/n."
He nodded stiffly, but then bowed quickly. "It's nice to meet you."
You smiled, noticing both hesitance and nervousness in his actions. The fact that Sanemi denied having a sibling, is likely the reason he didn't seem comfortable. Or it could simply be because you're a stranger.
"Do you know what happened?" You asked him quietly. You were no longer shaking. Feeling a significant ease compared to when you first heard his voice.
He shook his head no. Genya had no idea what happened with you and why Sanemi wanted Gyomei to look after you.
He could see that you were in distress and clearly injured but that's all from observation. He had nothing else to go on.
"You don't?" He asked you.
"No. I just remember waking up a little while ago I think, I don't really know when. Eating, and now I just woke up again. I don't know. Maybe I have a concussion."
He hummed in response to your statement. That could very well be true. "Your hand is broken." He stated. "Do you know how that happened?"
You looked at your hand surprised. That would explain the strange sensation going on with it right now. It was obviously swollen. You don't remember it being broken when Sanemi came to get you, but you were so out of it then, it could've slipped your mind.
"No." You replied.
There was a long stretch of silence before either of you spoke. "I think I have to use the bathroom." You told him.
You could see the surprise in his eyes. "Do you n-need help?"
"Just getting up I think." You answered. Your body felt heavy. If your hand wasn't broke you would probably crawl to the bathroom.
He walked over to you and held his hand out. You placed your free hand in his, feeling pain radiate throughout. You winced but still pulled yourself up. You really did need help you thought as you took your slow supported steps. Once you reached the door you carefully let go.
"Thanks." You mumbled as you walked into the bathroom closing the door behind you. Inside you did your best but felt really sluggish. Washing your hands was difficult too but you made it through without shedding many tears.
When you opened the door Genya walked over to you and held his hand out. You took it and smiled.
"Thank you."
"Welcome." He responded.
"Can we go to the living room. I like to sit on those fancy couches your brother has." You joked. You've told Sanemi before that he was boujie for having western styled furniture instead of what's traditionally found around here. His response of course was just an eye roll.
Genya lead you to the living room but didn't say anything. Once you sat down you were inclined to tell him he could have a seat, or do whatever he wanted but you stopped yourself. Knowing Sanemi he'd probably tell him the exact opposite.
"So, Genya are you a demon slayer too?"
"Yeah."
"Is it like a family...thing?"
"No." His eyes widened.
"I'm sorry, that was a stupid question to ask." You apologized. You probably shouldn't ask anything about family or demons.
"Did your brother say how long he would be?"
"No." Genya answered.
You nodded, mostly to yourself.
After a few minutes of silence between you, Genya finally spoke.
"I know it's not my place to ask, but are you and my- I mean Sanemi, together?"
You laughed lightly. "I wish. But no. We are kind of friends though." After a couple beats of silence you added. "We'll, scratch that. We are definitely friends."
"Oh wow."
"Yeah, but I forced him to be my friend. Which you could probably guess." You snorted.
You didn't know this right away but your candidness about yourself and Sanemi made Genya feel relaxed and comfortable. He'd even share with you what caused the riff between he and Sanemi. You felt bad for both of them to be navigating this scary world without fully having one another.
You were a bit overjoyed to be getting some snippets into how Sanemi was as a child. It surprised you that Genya was sharing as he didn't strike you as a talkative or open person. You took it as him needing to talk about it. Needing to reminisce on the positive relationship they had before.
"I feel like I've talked for hours. I'm sorry for rambling."
"Oh no, don't be. I enjoyed it. I feel like I know you now and it's been a pleasure. You're here to look out for me, the least I could do is listen to you talk." You smiled.
He returned the smile and nodded lightly. "Are you um, hungry or anything?" He asked.
"Only a little. You?"
"Only a little." He mocked.
"Well, I'll make you something. I'm sure San has food in here."
"Oh no, it's no worry-"
"I'm feeding you Genya." You cut him off with a smile but pointing your finger at him to let him know you were serious.
He smiled a shy smile and nodded.
————
You were placing the final tray of food on the table when you heard Sanemi return home.
"I just cooked! I hope that's fine." You semi shouted out to Sanemi. You figured it wouldn't be a problem but you wanted to mess with him anyway.
Shinobu walked into the room first.
"Hi, I wish I could say it was nice to see you again."
You nodded. You know what she meant. "I'm sorry to cause you more work."
She seemed to be waiting for something, which you assumed was Sanemi since he hadn't appeared yet. You also noted that Genya became visibly tense and had not touched his food yet.
Sanemi slowly walked into the room, his eyes down.
He seemed tense as well, but also defeated maybe? Something was off.
You stared at him until he looked up at you.
"Hi." You said. Finally smiling now that you made eye contact.
His eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening. It's like he was shocked. He looked at Shinobu and then quickly back at you.
Your head tilted to one side you asked, "cat got your tongue?"
Something akin to a dry laugh left his mouth before he rushed over to you. He dropped to his knees and grabbed your face with both hands. His eyes searched yours fervently.
"It's you." He said.
"Yes. What's wr-"
His lips captured yours in a desperate kiss. You were surprised, frozen in your spot. He was kissing you in front of people.
Sanemi.
On his own.
As much as you wanted to just kiss him back you were starting to worry.
Pulling back, but resting your hand on his face you asked, "what's going on? Did I do something?"
"I'll explain in a little while." He said laying his hand on top of yours, lightly leaning into your touch.
You nodded and kissed him quickly, stealing one of your own.
"May I?" Shinobu interjected softly.
Sanemi stood, kissing your hand before dropping it to move out of Shinobu's way. You sat still as she took Sanemi's spot in front of you. She pulled some small vial out of her pocket, and took your injured hand. She poured a couple droplets on the top of your hand, placed the vial down and then began to rub the mixture in gently. The pain in your hand was still mostly numbed but you could feel much less the more she rubbed into your skin.
Almost casually she began popping bones back into place you guess. You could only move your thumb on this hand while you cooked and assumed you sprained it. You still couldn't remember your hand being damaged.
"There appears to be only one simple break, there was mostly dislocation. You'll have to keep your hand wrapped for atleast 2 weeks."
"Okay." You answered.
"Now could you look at me."
You followed her instruction. You didn't flinch when she leaned very close to your face, unblinking and staring into your eyes.
"How do you feel about Sanemi?" She asked suddenly.
"What the hell?" Sanemi practically barked.
"Mm...I like him very much." You smiled, unphased by the question.
"Would you ever hurt him?"
"Never." You replied.
"But you did."
Your brows furrowed in confusion. "I did not."
"You did. Today. Don't you remember?"
You opened your mouth to speak and then closed it. You honestly don't remember much. Just waking up a couple times, eating, and then the time that was just spent with Genya.
"No." Was all you answered.
"You tried to kill him."
Your heart dropped to your stomach. You looked away from Shinobu to Sanemi. The look on his face, plus his silence told you what you needed to know. The only other surprised person in the room was Genya. Eyes wide and mouth agape.
"I would never....do that." Your voice fading as you finished the sentence. You didn't know what to say, and you couldn't remember even remotely.
At the end of the day, you weren't strong enough to kill Sanemi. That made you feel better. Whatever you did probably caused him no harm. Right?
"How?" You asked.
"His sword." She answered.
"Why?" You asked now. Your voice a whisper.
"Well....you're possessed."
This time, your heart jumped into your throat. You couldn't describe the terror you felt if you tried.
After a minute of you not speaking at all, Sanemi spoke up.
"Could you explain what we have to do to change that."
"Yes so one, we need to find the demon that did this to you. If we kill it you're free from its hold.
Or, we could possibly treat the infiltration site, and when that's healed his hold should be released."
You heard what she said. You just couldn't respond. Shock would be an understatement.
"Treated how?" Sanemi asked.
"Medicines of course." Shinobu replied. "How does that sound?" She spoke to you. Although her tone never changed, her eyes softened as she watched you, waiting on some type of response.
"Okay." Was all you said.
"I'll get started on some medicines. It may not be a smooth process but we want you comfortable. Further we would have to make sure you're safe and this demon can't find you again. I would want you to come to the butterfly mansion."
You haven't seen your friends in a couple of days you think, you really don't know how long it's been since you were attacked. The thought of them not knowing what was going on with you when you could be gone for who knows how long, just didn't feel right.
"Can I go home first?" You asked.
"I'm afraid not tonight. It may be a risk for you to be outside with the sun down. You're safest right here for the time being with us, or at the butterfly mansion. Maybe if things go well tomorrow I can allow you to stop at home before coming to the mansion."
Shinobu left with the promise to see you tomorrow.
Genya was still sitting at the table, food untouched.
He felt like he was encroaching but was also perplexed by the news. He didn't know if his duty was done or if he was needed.
"I-"
"You can leave." Sanemi said to Genya as if he was just reminded of his presence.
Genya was taken aback but nodded anyhow.
"That was rude lover. Genya, you're fine. You can finish your food and take your time." You told him. Some fire back in your eyes. You hated to hear Sanemi speak to Genya that way knowing how much Genya just wants to make him proud.
Sanemi's eyes softened as he looked at you.
"You can join us, I made enough for everyone." You told him, turning to face the table.
Sanemi said nothing as he sat his sword down and sat down beside you. He started to eat and kept his eyes on his food.
Genya slowly started to eat as well. More timid and tense than you've seen him in your short time together.
Your mind wanted to replay the conversation you just had, but you kept it at bay. You knew you would feel terror and overwhelmed which you didn't want. You just wanted to be okay. To live a normal life, to feel good, to have fun.
Getting possessed was not what you had in mind.
What a short and depressing life you've lived huh?
"You're not eating." Sanemi said.
You picked up a piece of fish and dropped it after a few seconds. Tears prickling your eyes. You couldn't eat. You felt sick to your stomach with worry and fear.
"San....your brother-"
"I don't have a brother."
You sighed. "Genya deserves to have his brother in his life. You deserve to-"
"Don't." Sanemi huffed.
"Please. I don't want you to be alone."
"Woman, what are you talking about?" He turned his body to face you, his fist now clenched in frustration. "Why would I be alone huh? You thinking of going somewhere?"
You were caught off guard. Your mouth dropping open, leaving you floundering like a fish.
"I-"
"You what? Thinking about giving up? Hmm? When it hasn't even been 24 fucking hours? We haven't tried to fix it yet, but you're throwing in the towel? Just made a fucking plan and it means nothing? You feeling defeated already? Suck it the fuck up. You're not going anywhere."
"Eat your food." He added before turning back and angrily chomping on his own.
A part of you felt a spark lighting within you. You could have a more positive attitude. The other part didn't understand even remotely how you could come out of this situation.
You tried eating the rice. Successfully eating 2 spoons.
"I uh-should get going." Genya spoke up.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. It was a um, pleasure, meeting you and helping you." He said stacking his dishes back together.
"Likewise. Please take care. I hope I can see you again soon." You replied standing when he did. He was slightly confused when you approached him but was absolutely flabbergasted when you hugged him.
"Thank you so much." You added grabbing his hand. "I'll walk you out."
Genya could only nod. He had to ignore the daggers Sanemi glared at him.
Genya bowed to you after putting on his shoes. "Please be well Miss y/l/n."
"You too." You smiled and waved back.
Once he disappeared through the gate you closed the door back. Turning around you saw Sanemi walking out of the kitchen.
"You got a crush on my kid brother or something?"
Instead of entertaining his foolish question you walked over to him and hugged him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, hugging you back.
"Can we sit out back?" You asked him.
"Unfortunately, no. You shouldn't be outside tonight. Just in case."
Your embrace dropped causing Sanemi to grab your arms and pull them up around his neck.
"I have a better idea."
"What?"
"You know what." He smirked.
You of course laughed. He was so attractive, and the spontaneity and joking he's been doing lately was so good. He's a natural.
"Okay." You replied.
"That's my girl." It was pathetic the way something so small had you clenching around nothing. Eager to have him over such small praise.
————
Sanemi insisted on giving you a massage afterwards. He wanted you to stay relaxed and at ease no matter what.
You were laying on your back with your foot in his lap as he rubbed soothing patterns on your calf and around your ankle.
"You have beautiful skin." He told you.
"Thank you." You replied.
"Beautiful legs, beautiful body, beautiful face."
You smiled more. Heart truly fluttering at the repetitive compliments from him.
"You're being so sweet San."
He rolled his eyes playfully, switching to your other leg.
You laughed at his fake attitude and tried to let yourself sink further into the mattress.
"What are you thinking about?" Sanemi asked.
"You."
"What about me?"
You contemplated whether you should actually tell him or not. You watched him, as you mulled over your thoughts. His face was neutral. He stared back waiting on you to tell him.
"You deserve so many good things." You paused, gauging his reaction.
He remained neutral, and didn't say anything.
"I think, you're amazing, and you're a great person, and always have been. Learning about your past I realize that you care so deeply about the people you love. You just want everybody to be safe. It's made me so much more attracted to you. I admire you. And I'm happy I got to meet you, and know you. Thank you for letting me."
Sanemi was listening while fighting every urge to withdraw from your praise with a smart remark. It made him feel good about himself. Like he was worthy of such praise. It felt foreign. Shocking. At the end however is when he felt displeased with your statement.
"Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?" Sanemi asked you.
You've been around Sanemi long enough to know that he was upset. You could see that he was holding it back, and you appreciated that. You didn't want him mad at you. You didn't want to upset him. You meant every word you said, and you could understand why he was peeved.
"I'm not lover." You smiled. Ignoring the lump in your throat.
His eyes narrowed as he watched you. They were fiery and didn't lose any intensity as he sat your leg down on the bed and leaned forward. He slid his hand beneath your back and easily lifted you up so you were face to face.
"You don't get to lie to me."
You were tempted to tell him you weren't. While this wasn't your goodbye, it was implied. It was the start of your goodbye. You didn't think you would comeback from this. It was so bizarre. You didn't want to be defeated but having no memory at all of what happened made you feel like you had already lost a piece of yourself.
You nodded your head.
"You are going to get through this, and get back to normal. I'm going to help make sure you get back. I'm fighting for you. You need to fight too. Got that?" He asked you,
"Yeah." You replied.
"I'll get you back." He said aloud but it felt like he was speaking to himself.
Although you weren't feeling positive about the outcome, you knew Sanemi would try. He didn't seem the type to half ass anything, so if he said it, you knew he would do everything in his power to make it happen. He's never told you anything he didn't mean.
You settled on a half truth.
"I believe you."
—————
You woke up expecting to see Sanemi but was instead greeted by a horribly destroyed room. Your head was ringing and you were certain something bad happened.
"San." You called out standing slowly from the mattress.
"Hey. Um, he's not here right now." Genya responded to you, his voice floating from the living room.
"Did I? You know?" You asked walking carefully to the doorway.
"Yeah. I'm here to walk you to the Butterfly Mansion."
You nodded your head solemnly. "Okay." You took your time to change, not wanting to make the pounding in your head any worse. Genya said nothing as he waited for you.
You eventually met him in the doorway, ready for your trip.
The walk began quietly as your mind raced wondering when you'd get back to normal. Genya remained silent, not wanting to be a nuisance. He had a little trouble with it, being that he felt anxiety for you. He felt like you were going to be a friend to him; you had defended him. He wanted to be of help to you too.
He could tell you were in your head, but he didn't know how to help you. He didn't know how to distract you. He didn't know what he should say.
Once you made it to the butterfly mansion Genya stayed with you until you got settled. You were placed in a room separate from others healing. You were instructed to wait for Shinobu to arrive.
"Is there anything I can get you, or do for you?" Genya asked after you sat down on the bed.
You shook your head.
"Would it be okay if I visited you during this process?"
"Of course!" Genya noted this was the first time you smiled since you woke up.
He nodded and slightly bowed to you. "I'll give you some space. But I'll see you again soon."
"Thanks Genya."
You watched silently as he left the room. He was a sweet kid. Despite his rough disposition he had good intentions. You laughed to yourself at the similarity to his brother.
A knock on the door stopped your thoughts.
"Come in." You said.
"Hi. How are you feeling?" Shinobu jumped right in as she walked into the room.
"Sad." You answer truthfully.
"I'm sorry. I can understand that." She replied. "I was able to curate a medicine that I believe will help to minimize the effects left on you by the demon. Now we just have to find the site."
You nodded. Releasing a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.
"I will have too look over your whole body. Will that be okay?"
"Yes." You answered.
"I believe the mark will be somewhere you wouldn't normally look or pay close attention to. Possibly the back of your foot, or maybe behind a knee. They wouldn't want it to be visible."
"Okay." You mumbled.
"You can lay in bed or you can stand. What's your preference?"
"I'll lay down." You replied getting fully on the bed and laying on your back.
Shinobu was gentle and quick. "Ok could you turn over please?" She asked. Once you laid on your stomach, she lightly grazed your neck. You squirmed a bit feeling a slight discomfort.
She caught this, and leaned closer. After a long minute she spoke. "Found it." She lightly pressed on your neck making you tense up.
"I'm going to apply some medicine here." She added.
It felt weird. Touching the area sent waves of uneasiness through your body, but when she applied the medicine it was painful. Down to your nerves. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire.
When she finished she asked if you were okay. You told her no.
"It feels like I'm burning."
"That means it's working. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can get you in the mean time?"
"Sanemi?"
"Oh yes, he's eager to see you, but I think we've figured out the problem. You see, when you look at him, you snap. Or I should say, the possession takes over. He can greet you outside the door, but I'm afraid you can't see face to face until tomorrow. We need to keep the trigger at minimum.
"Okay." You replied.
She bowed politely before leaving the room.
Just a couple of minutes later you heard a knock at the door.
"It's me." Sanemi's voice called out.
"Hi." You responded sitting up.
"How are you feeling."
"Really weird honestly. I think I'm gonna lose it San. I feel like I'm going crazy."
"I understand. What can I do?
"I don't know." You sighed.
There was a brief pause of silence. "I'm sorry." He told you.
You got up and walked to the door, leaning your head against it.
"Me too." You replied. "I miss you." You added after a few seconds.
"I miss you too. So fucking much." There was an audible bang against the door. You imagined it was his fist.
"I want to see you."
"You will. Real soon. Okay?"
You nodded. You knew he couldn't see you but it was all you could manage.
"I'll be here everyday. Until you can come back to me."
"You promise?"
It was selfish to want him to promise to spend his free time here with a door between you, but any decency you had was nonexistent right now.
warnings : virgin reader!, afab reader!, established relationship, service dom!(dub if you squint) yoriichi
Authors note: I wrote this AGES ago so please excuse the horrendous writing
-
-
Yoriichi is the definition of a gentle giant, hes so gentle with you for your first time. Whether you are a virgin or not, he'll still ask for your ok, where you want him, does it feel good and "is this okay?". God he tries so hard to hold back, especially when he first slips into your pussy, hes in euphoria. Yoriichi knows he’s big, and he just doesn’t want to hurt you :(. He wants you to be comfortable the whole time but you notice hes tense doing so.
Although...you soon noticed after a while the way he bites his lip and stops pushing into you halfway, you decide to coo his name. He almost cums when you tell him its okay. Though he reassures you hes fine, judging by the small dots of blood under his lip, you weren’t buying it. (Baby just doesn’t want you to hear how loud he actually is <3). You cooed at his trembling form again, telling him you want him to fuck you, that you want him to feel good with you. And fuck he almost whines at that, burying himself into your neck and begins to push the rest of his cock into you with a loud moan.
It was so worth it, his soft moans were so pretty, you love the way he squeezes your hand when he cums.
"Every man you had ever known would have raised his voice, demanded your obedience, or forcibly grabbed your arm to make you follow. Giyu just waited."
✦ Pairing — [Giyu x Reader]
✦ Rating — T
✦ Warnings/Tropes - [Protective Giyu, Runaway Reader, Yoshiwara District, Oiran Reader, Artist Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Badass Giyu, Giyu is Bad at Feelings, He Thinks Love is a Fever, Touch-Starved, He literally buys her freedom, Mutual Pining]
✦ Table of Contents
—— ✦ ———
Chapter Two: A Minor Detour
The heavy rain lashed against the ancient camphor tree for hours, a relentless drumbeat that eventually lulled your exhausted body into a restless sleep. You curled tightly around your canvas sack, resting your head against the rough bark of the hollow.
Across the small enclosed space, Giyu remained still. He didn’t need sleep. The night was his domain, the specific time when the real monsters prowled the earth. He was accustomed to the dark, to the biting chill of a damp uniform, and to the heavy burden of staying vigilant while others rested.
As the long hours stretched on, Giyu allowed his mind to settle into a calm, meditative state, though his sharp blue eyes occasionally drifted toward your sleeping form. He watched your face, now relaxed but still carrying the harsh ghost of the terror you had exhibited earlier.
A tiny sense of gratitude washed over him in the darkness. The salted salmon onigiri you offered had been a small gesture, but he was genuinely hungry after his messy mission, and the unexpected kindness resonated with him. He had nothing to offer you in return, only his silent protection from the shadows.
His gaze fell briefly to your right wrist, hidden beneath the oversized sleeve of your stolen uniform. A twinge of guilt pricked at his conscience. When you lunged at him with that hairpin, he had reacted on pure survival instinct, grabbing your bare skin with enough force to instantly neutralise a perceived threat. He knew his own raw strength. He sincerely hoped he hadn’t left a bruise on your soft skin. He was a Hashira trained to obliterate demons, not to manhandle frightened runaways seeking shelter.
And you were undeniably running from something terrible. He didn’t know the specifics of your life, but the jagged, hasty cut of your hair and the ill-fitting male garments painted a very clear picture of desperation. Being out in these woods alone was a fatal mistake for anyone, let alone a woman relying on a clumsy, unconvincing disguise. The forest belonged to demons. If he had not sought shelter in this exact tree, and a demon had found you instead, your story would have ended in a brutal, bloody mess. He silently thanked whatever forces guided him here tonight. You were safe, at least for now.
━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━
The violent storm finally broke just before dawn. The heavy downpour reduced to a light, misting drizzle and then finally stopped, leaving the forest saturated and quiet. The first bright rays of morning sunlight pierced through the thick canopy overhead, casting golden slants of light onto the muddy forest floor.
You stirred, your muscles aching from sleeping on the hardwood. You rubbed your eyes, the rough cotton fabric of your sleeve scratching your cheek, and slowly blinked away the remnants of sleep. The air smelled incredibly fresh, a sharp, clean mix of wet earth and crushed pine needles that felt foreign compared to the suffocating incense of the Yoshiwara.
You turned your head and froze in surprise. Tomioka-san was still there. He sat in the exact same seiza position as the night before, his hands resting lightly on his thighs, his posture impeccable. His eyes were closed and his breathing slow and even. You assumed he was sleeping, finding it somewhat miraculous that anyone could rest comfortably while sitting so straight.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, you allowed yourself to actually look at him. Stripped of the adrenaline from last night, you realised just how striking the man truly was. The morning light caught the sharp angles of his jawline and the straight bridge of his nose. His dark hair, no longer plastered flat to his face by the rain, fell in unruly, spiky sections around his shoulders. He possessed an elegant beauty, vastly different from the loud, gaudy, aggressive men who frequented the entertainment district. There was a solemnity about him. Even while sitting still, he exuded a strength. He was odd, yes, sitting in silence for hours without moving a muscle, but he had respected your space entirely. He felt like a guardian spirit assigned to watch over your hollow.
You continued tracing the lines of his face, admiring the stark contrast between his pale skin and the vibrant, mismatched patterns of his haori. You felt a strange sense of safety blooming in your chest, a feeling you had not experienced since you were eight years old.
"Are you feeling rested?" he asked.
You jumped so violently that your elbow slammed hard into the bark behind you. His eyes were suddenly open, those piercing blue irises locked directly onto yours. He had been awake the entire time. He had felt the weight of your stare and patiently waited for you to finish your visual inspection before speaking.
A burning heat rushed straight to your cheeks. You scrambled to sit upright, clutching your canvas sack to your chest like a protective shield. You were caught staring like a lovestruck fool.
"I— yes, I am," you stammered, the flush on your face spreading rapidly down to your neck. "I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep."
Giyu watched the red bloom across your cheeks. He noticed the way you ducked your chin, suddenly shy, the ends of your short hair framing your flustered expression. A strange, unfamiliar sensation flared in his chest. It was a rapid, singular thump against his ribs. You looked… cute. The thought formed without his permission, startling him immensely. He was a demon slayer. He did not have time for distractions, nor did he understand the sudden, inexplicable tightness in his throat.
He looked away sharply, turning his attention to the opening of the tree hollow. His expression remained a mask of flawless stoic indifference, burying the brief moment of confusion under years of disciplined training.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice steady and flat, betraying none of his internal bewilderment.
You took a steadying breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "I’m planning to go to the nearest town. I need to find a carriage, or maybe a market where I can trade some things for travel fare."
Giyu stood up in one fluid motion, brushing a speck of dried dirt from his dark uniform pants. "I will escort you."
You blinked up at him, entirely surprised by the sudden offer. "Oh, no, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that."
He adjusted the sword at his hip, his gaze returning to you. "I’m going in the same direction anyway."
It was a lie. Headquarters and the Butterfly Mansion were in the exact opposite direction. But the idea of leaving you here, a runaway with zero combat skills, no weapon besides a fragile hairpin, and a disguise that barely held up to basic scrutiny, was unacceptable. He would walk you to the town, ensure you were secure, and then resume his journey. It was a minor detour, one he was more than willing to make.
"Tomioka-san, really, I don’t want to inconvenience you," you insisted, pushing yourself up onto your aching legs, ignoring the sharp pain of your stiff joints. "You must have your own duties to attend to."
Giyu didn’t argue, nor did he offer a reassuring smile or a polite insistence. He just stood there and stared at you. His unblinking gaze felt incredibly heavy. The seconds ticked by, the silence stretching into awkward, unfamiliar territory. You shifted your weight, unsure of how to break the stalemate. Every man you had ever known would have raised his voice, demanded your obedience, or forcibly grabbed your arm to make you follow. Giyu just waited, letting his silent presence do the talking.
After a full minute of silent staring, he simply turned his back, stepped out of the hollow, and landed lightly on the wet grass.
"Follow me," he said over his shoulder.
He didn’t wait for an answer, and he just started walking into the brush.
You scrambled out of the tree, clutching your sack tightly, and hurried to catch up. The forest was vibrant and alive with morning energy, birds chirping loudly in the canopy, and heavy dew dripping from the green leaves.
Giyu initially set a punishing pace. He moved with a gliding, effortless stride, his dark sandals barely making a sound against the mud and fallen branches. You, on the other hand, were struggling immensely. Your thin straw sandals offered zero traction on the slick terrain, and your legs, unused to such rigorous physical exertion, burned with every single step. You jogged slightly, panting, trying desperately to keep his mismatched haori in your line of sight.
After ten minutes of silent, gruelling travel, Giyu heard your laboured breathing echoing behind him. He glanced back, noticing the slight limp in your step and the exhausted slump of your shoulders. A brief flash of realisation crossed his mind. You were not a trained slayer accustomed to moving at top speed through treacherous terrain.
He stopped abruptly, making you nearly crash right into his broad back, but you caught yourself at the last possible second. He resumed walking, but this time, his pace was drastically slower, matching your strained, shortened strides perfectly.
"Thank you," you breathed out, incredibly relieved to be walking at a normal, human speed.
He just gave a single, curt nod, keeping his eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"Also…by the way…my name is..." You hesitated for a fraction of a second, remembering the immense need for caution, but this man had protected you all night. He deserved to know who he was guarding. You told him your full name.
Giyu registered the syllables, committing the sound to memory. It was a pretty name. It fit you well, matching the elegance you carried despite your messy, desperate disguise. He gave another silent nod, mentally filing the information away.
The journey continued in silence. It wasn’t the oppressive silence of the Yoshiwara that you were used to, where quiet meant someone was listening, but it was still noticeably awkward. You walked slightly behind his right shoulder, constantly stealing side glances at his profile. You wanted to strike up a conversation, to fill the quiet with something normal, but he radiated an aura of unapproachable focus.
Your eyes drifted naturally to the unique garment he wore over his black clothing. It was split perfectly down the middle. One half was a solid, rich crimson red, and the other half featured a striking geometric pattern of green, yellow, and orange squares. It was unconventional, yet strangely captivating.
"Your haori is very beautiful, Tomioka-san," you said softly.
Giyu’s sandal caught slightly on an exposed tree root. It was a microscopic stumble, one you barely even noticed, but for a Hashira with flawless physical balance, it was a monumental lapse in composure. The compliment caught him completely off guard. Most people found his haori strange or jarring, a patchwork of ghosts he carried on his shoulders to honour the fallen. No one had ever called it beautiful.
He recovered his footing instantly, his stride smoothing out, but he remained silent.
You bit your bottom lip, cursing your own loose tongue. You thought you had seriously offended him. Perhaps it was a sacred family heirloom, and it was highly inappropriate for a stranger to comment on it so casually. The silence stretched on for five long minutes, and you nervously prepared to offer a formal apology for overstepping your boundaries.
"Thank you," Giyu finally said. His voice was quiet, almost swallowed by the rustling leaves, but the sincerity in his tone was undeniable.
You smiled, a warm flutter settling in your chest. He was not angry at all. He was just painfully slow with his words.
You spent the next mile studying the sword strapped securely to his left hip. The hilt was wrapped tightly, the metal guard intricately designed. He wore a distinct uniform, sturdy and dark. Was he a wandering samurai? A ronin? A specialised mercenary hired by the government? The Taisho era was changing rapidly, swords were strictly banned in public spaces, yet he wore his openly and with unapologetic authority. You burned with curiosity, desperate to ask him what he did for a living, but his reserved nature held you back. Pestering him with endless questions felt rude after everything he had done. You decided to keep your internal musings to yourself, content to just follow his lead through the winding trees.
The sun climbed much higher in the sky, warming the damp air, and the dense trees finally began to thin out, hinting that the edge of the forest was near. You were just starting to relax into the steady rhythm of the walk when a sudden, loud flutter of wings broke the tranquillity of the morning.
A large, sleek black crow swooped down aggressively from the branches overhead. It circled Giyu once before landing with a soft thud directly onto his right shoulder.
"Caw! The storm is over! The storm is over!"
You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes widening to the size of tea saucers.
The crow adjusted its sleek wings, settling comfortably on Giyu’s shoulder, and tilted its head to look directly at his face. "Where are you going, Giyu? This is the wrong way! Caw! The Butterfly Mansion is in the exact opposite direction! Opposite!"
Your jaw dropped open to the ground. The bird was talking! A literal bird was speaking, forming clear, coherent sentences. You rubbed your eyes fiercely, wondering if the exhaustion and the freezing rain had finally caused your mind to snap, sending you into a vivid hallucination.
"Quiet, Kanzaburo," Giyu muttered, his face remaining impassive, though a slight, annoyed tension tightened his jawline. His cover regarding the travel direction was instantly blown by his own messenger.
The crow, Kanzaburo, ignored the command completely. Its dark, beady eyes snapped toward you, scrutinising your messy hair and your oversized male attendant clothes with intense judgment.
"Who is this? Caw! Who is this beautiful-looking boy? No, wait! Is it a girl? Caw! Why is she dressed like a boy? A disguise! A disguise!"
You stumbled backwards, gripping the rough strap of your canvas sack like a lifeline. "Tomioka-san," you gasped out, pointing a trembling, pale finger at the animal. "The bird. The bird is talking."
"Do not point, it is rude! Caw!" Kanzaburo squawked, puffing out his dark chest feathers indignantly. "I am Kanzaburo! Proud Kasugai crow of the Water Hashira!" The bird hopped in place on Giyu's shoulder, his tone shifting rapidly from accusatory to incredibly smug. "This detour is accepted! Yes, accepted! Giyu is helping a pretty lady! A very pretty lady! Caw!"
Giyu let out a long, weary sigh. He lifted his hand and shooed the old bird off his shoulder, treating the talking creature like a common house pest.
"Go away," Giyu said flatly, waving his hand to usher the loud menace back into the sky.
Kanzaburo took flight with an indignant, loud squawk, circling a few feet above your heads. "A pretty lady! Giyu has a lady friend! Caw! Caw!"
You watched the loud crow fly ahead, your mind reeling from the absurdity of the situation. You looked over at Giyu, who was staring fixedly at the dirt path, a faint hint of exasperation finally cracking his otherwise flawless stoic mask.
He didn’t say a single word about the talking crow, nor did he address the glaring fact that he had lied about his travel direction just to keep you safe. He simply gestured forward with his hand, silently urging you to continue the walk.
To Be Continued...
——— ✦ ———
Thank you for reading.♡
✦ Check out my Patreon for more content. I'm four chapters ahead on my fics there.
✦ THE MAIN UNIVERSE ✦ Love my writing? Check out my Gothic Romantasy novel — Liquid Sunlight.
↳ Masterlist | Table of Contents | Join my Taglist
Shades of Blue — Chapter Seven
MORE THAN A FRIEND
"Every single time his heart skipped a beat in the carriage, you had been looking at him. Every time the heat rushed to his ears, you had spoken his name."
✦ Pairing — [Giyu x Reader]
✦ Rating — T
✦ Warnings/Tropes - [Protective Giyu, Runaway Reader, Yoshiwara District, Oiran Reader, Artist Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Badass Giyu, Giyu is Bad at Feelings, He Thinks Love is a Fever, Touch-Starved, He literally buys her freedom, Mutual Pining]
✦ Table of Contents
—— ✦ ———
Chapter Seven: More Than a Friend
The three-day journey from the Yoshiwara blurred into a strange, quiet rhythm. You sat across from Tomioka-san in a series of hired carriages and walked beside him on the winding dirt roads, your canvas sack always clutched tightly in your hands. The fear that defined your life slowly began to ebb, replaced by a blossoming curiosity about the man walking beside you. You found yourself stealing glances at him whenever he turned his head to look at the passing mountains. You studied the sharp slope of his jaw, the dark, spiky strands of his hair, and the way his mismatched haori caught the afternoon wind.
He caught you looking more times than you could count. Whenever your eyes met his, a fierce blush would flood your cheeks, and you would quickly look down at your straw sandals. Giyu would quickly look away too, turning his attention back to the trees or the sky. He was convinced he was dying. Over the course of the three days, his mysterious illness only worsened. His pulse raced dangerously fast whenever you sat too close to him in the carriage. His chest felt uncomfortably warm, and a strange, dizzying giddiness struck him every time you offered him a soft smile or handed him a cup of tea at the roadside inns. He practiced his total concentration breathing techniques for hours, trying to regulate his erratic heart, but the symptoms stubbornly persisted. He resigned himself to his fate, silently hoping he could deliver you to safety before the fever took his life.
On the afternoon of the third day, the dense forest path opened up to reveal an expansive, breathtaking estate. High white walls surrounded a sprawling compound of traditional wooden buildings with elegant, sloping roofs. The air here felt different. It was crisp, clean, and saturated with the fragrant scent of blooming wisteria and crushed medicinal herbs. Hundreds of vibrant butterflies fluttered through the front courtyard, landing on the vibrant green bushes and dancing in the golden sunbeams.
You stood at the wooden gates, your breath catching in your throat. It was gorgeous. It looked like a hidden sanctuary pulled straight from a painted scroll.
"We are here," Giyu announced, adjusting his sword resting in his belt.
He led you through the front courtyard, followed closely by the two Kakushi carrying their empty iron-bound trunk, with Kanzaburo flying high above in the blue sky. As you stepped onto the paved stone paths, you noticed the bustling activity of the estate. People hurried between the buildings, all wearing the same dark uniform Giyu wore beneath his haori. Some carried stacks of clean white linens, while others supported injured, bandaged men and women limping slowly toward the gardens.
The moment Giyu walked through the gates, the courtyard grew noticeably quieter. Curious stares locked onto the Water Hashira. It was a rare sight to see him at the Butterfly Mansion outside of a severe injury. It was an even rarer sight to see him escorting a civilian. The workers took one look at your jagged hair, your dirt-streaked face, and your oversized, now filthy male attendant clothes. They exchanged sympathetic glances, clearly assuming you were just another tragic survivor of a brutal demon attack who needed urgent medical care.
A sliding wooden door to the main infirmary snapped open with a sharp clack. A stern-looking girl stepped out onto the wooden veranda. She wore a crisp white nurse's uniform over her dark slayer garb, and her dark hair was tied back into twin pigtails secured by two blue butterfly clips. She balanced a large wooden tray piled high with salted riceballs resting on her hip.
She paused, her blue eyes widening in surprise as she spotted Giyu approaching the steps. Her gaze flicked to you, taking in your ragged appearance, before snapping back to the Hashira.
"Tomioka-sama," the girl said, her tone respectful but laced with undeniable confusion. "We were not expecting you today. Who is this?"
"Aoi-san," Giyu said, skipping the formalities. "Where is Kocho? I need to speak to her immediately."
Aoi frowned, shifting the tray of food to her other hip. "Shinobu-sama is in the back courtyard training Kanao right now. She requested not to be disturbed unless it is an emergency."
"It is urgent," Giyu insisted, his voice leaving no room for debate.
Aoi sighed, recognising that arguing with a Hashira was a losing battle. She turned her head toward the open doorway behind her. "Sumi! Kiyo! Naho! Come here, please!"
Three identical little girls, distinguished only by the color of their clothes and their hairstyles, popped their heads out of the dark hallway.
"Go to the back courtyard and tell Shinobu-sama that the Water Hashira is here and demands her attention," Aoi instructed.
The three little girls nodded in unison and scurried away down the wooden corridor, their footsteps echoing lightly on the floorboards.
You shifted uncomfortably on the stone path. The bustling estate, the crisp uniforms, and the place's efficiency made you feel incredibly small. You clutched your canvas sack to your chest, feeling like an intruder tracking mud into a pristine palace. You were bringing your messy, complicated life into their peaceful sanctuary, and the guilt gnawed at your stomach.
Giyu noticed your shifting posture. He stepped slightly closer to you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours.
"You’re fine," he said quietly, his voice a steady rumble meant only for your ears. "You are not intruding."
You offered him a small, grateful smile, but it faltered quickly as you noticed a small group of Kakushi whispering by the garden gate. They were from the Water Estate, and they had heard the scandalous rumors Kanzaburo shrieked across their courtyard days ago. They were staring at you, their eyes scanning your beautiful features and your ruined, ill-fitting clothes. You could see the judgment forming in their expressions. They were whispering behind their hands, assuming you were the Yoshiwara prostitute their stoic master had supposedly purchased for his own pleasure.
Your face burned with fierce shame. You ducked your chin, wishing you could disappear into the gravel. You hated that you were tarnishing his honor. By standing next to you, his pristine reputation was being dragged through the mud.
Giyu followed your gaze. He spotted the whispering Kakushi and his striking blue eyes narrowed into a fierce, lethal glare. He didn't say a word, but the sudden drop in temperature and the hostility emanating from his posture froze the gossiping workers. They squeaked in terror, quickly turning their backs and pretending to inspect a nearby wisteria tree.
Giyu turned to the two Kakushi who had escorted you from the district. "Go to your peers. Rectify the rumors Kanzaburo spread. Make sure every person in this organization knows the truth by sundown."
"Yes, sir!" the two men chorused, bowing frantically before sprinting off toward the garden to do desperate damage control.
Footsteps echoed lightly on the wooden veranda. You looked up and felt the breath catch in your throat.
Walking toward the edge of the steps was one of the most stunning women you had ever seen. She wore the standard dark uniform, but hers was tailored perfectly to her petite frame. A gorgeous, butterfly-patterned haori draped over her shoulders.
You gasped softly. She was undeniably beautiful, but she was also terrifying. Her large, purple eyes lacked pupils, making them look like the eyes of a predatory insect. They were mesmerizing, but they held a cold depth. A pleasant, closed-mouth smile rested on her face, but your survival instincts flared instantly. Years spent surviving the Yoshiwara as an Oiran taught you how to read people and spot the cracks in a flawless facade. That smile was a mask. Underneath the polite curve of her lips, something sharp and dangerous was simmering.
Shinobu had already caught fragments of the rumors circulating among the Water Estate Kakushi. She scoffed at the idea. Tomioka buying a courtesan? It was laughable. The man had no friends, barely spoke to his peers, and possessed the social grace of a stone. He was certainly not desperate enough to march into a red-light district with a trunk full of yen.
But as she stood on the veranda and looked down at the courtyard, her pleasant smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He was actually standing there with a strange, beautiful woman in ragged clothing.
Shinobu clasped her hands together, tilting her head to the side. "Ara, ara Tomioka-san. I must admit, seeing you grace my estate is always a surprise. Though, usually, you bring me demons to dissect, not strays."
She stepped down onto the stone path, walking slowly toward the two of you. Her eyes locked onto Giyu, shining with mock innocence. "I heard the most ridiculous rumor floating around the Kakushi. They said you emptied your vaults to buy a woman from the Yoshiwara. I told them they were being foolish. But looking at you now, I am forced to wonder. Please, do explain yourself. What is this?"
She gestured toward you with a graceful sweep of her hand. You shrank back, your face burning hot with embarrassment under her piercing, judgmental gaze. She thought you were exactly what the rumors claimed.
Giyu did not flinch under her subtle bullying. "The rumor is false. My crow is senile and relayed the message incorrectly."
"Oh?" Shinobu hummed, her smile widening a fraction. "Do enlighten me, then."
Giyu stood tall, his voice ringing clearly across the quiet courtyard. He told her the truth. He explained his mission in the forest, the violent thunderstorm, and seeking shelter in the hollow camphor tree. He explained how he found you running for your life, disguised as a boy, terrified and freezing. He detailed the confrontation in the village, the reality of your inherited debt, and the ruthless merchant who tried to claim you. He laid out the facts cleanly and concisely, finishing with his decision to march into the Yoshiwara and legally purchase your permanent freedom.
"She has nowhere else to go," Giyu concluded, looking Shinobu directly in her unreadable purple eyes. "She needs protection. The district might not stop looking for her if she wanders alone. I am asking you to take her in as staff."
Shinobu stood still, processing the shocking story. The mocking amusement drained from her delicate features. She looked at you again, but this time, the cold calculation in her insect-like eyes was gone, replaced by a soft, genuine sorrow. She saw the exhaustion in the slump of your shoulders, the jagged edges of your desperate haircut, and the sheer terror lingering in your gaze. You were a survivor.
Shinobu stepped forward and bowed her head slightly to you. "I apologize. I judged the situation incorrectly. You endured a terrible ordeal, and I was rude to assume otherwise."
You blinked in surprise, bowing back quickly. "You do not need to apologize, Kocho-sama."
Shinobu straightened up, turning her attention back to Giyu. She was genuinely astonished. Tomioka was investing an absurd amount of money, time, and emotional energy into a civilian who had not even been attacked by a demon. This was new territory for the Water Hashira.
She let out a soft sigh, pressing a hand to her cheek. "The Butterfly Estate is nearly full. We have dozens of injured slayers recovering in the wards. But I will never turn away a woman in pain who wants a better life." Her pleasant smile returned, but this time, it carried a lethal, terrifying promise. "And if your former client ever decides to show his face near my gates, I will personally ensure he regrets the day he was born."
A shiver ran down your spine, though it was born of gratitude rather than fear.
Shinobu looked at Giyu, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "You owe me for this, Tomioka-san. A very large favor."
"Understood," Giyu nodded.
Shinobu turned her warm gaze to you. "You may stay. We always need extra hands in the garden, and the kitchen staff could use assistance. You will also help with cleaning and tending to the minor injuries of the slayers coming in and out."
Tears of relief pricked the corners of your eyes. You bowed low, your voice trembling with gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Kocho-sama. I am a quick learner. I will do whatever you need me to do."
"First things first," Shinobu said, reaching out to gently touch the frayed edge of your filthy collar. "You need to get cleaned up."
You suddenly became acutely aware of your appearance. You looked down at your clothes. The oversized attendant uniform was caked in dried mud from the forest, stained with sweat, and reeked of the dusty roads you traveled for three days. Your hair was tangled into a literal crow's nest, and you had not had a proper bath since the morning of your escape. A fresh wave of horror washed over you. You had been sitting across from Giyu, looking and smelling like a feral animal for days. How had he tolerated you? You felt a hot flush of mortification creeping up your neck.
Shinobu clapped her hands together, turning toward the veranda. "Aoi! Please prepare a hot bath for our new guest! Bring her a clean yukata and have a hot meal waiting for her when she finishes!"
"Right away, Shinobu-sama!" Aoi called back, disappearing into the building.
Shinobu smiled at Giyu, waving her hand dismissively. "She is in my care now, Tomioka-san. You completed your heroic deed. You may go back to your gloomy estate."
You felt a sharp ache in your chest. You didn't want him to leave. The thought of watching him walk out the gates and disappear back into his dangerous, solitary life terrified you. You took a half-step toward him, your fingers twisting the strap of your bag.
Giyu didn't move. He stood his ground, looking at you, then back at Shinobu. He didn't want to leave either. He trusted Shinobu implicitly with your safety, but he had grown accustomed to the quiet sound of your breathing and the soft, shy glances you shared in the carriage.
More urgently, he had a pressing medical emergency.
"Wait," Giyu said, raising his hand. "I cannot leave yet. I need you to perform a medical checkup on me. It is urgent."
Shinobu paused, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Giyu notoriously hated the infirmary. He often stitched his own wounds to avoid her lectures.
"A checkup?" Shinobu asked, stepping closer to inspect his face. "Are you injured? Did you encounter a demon on the road?"
"No," Giyu replied, his face incredibly serious. "I believe I have contracted a grave fever."
Shinobu tilted her head, her purple eyes scanning his seemingly healthy complexion. "A fever? Describe your symptoms."
Giyu stood and delivered his medical report with deadpan sincerity. "My pulse is highly erratic. It accelerates without physical exertion. My chest feels uncomfortably warm. I experienced periods of sudden sweating, and my mind feels clouded by an unusual giddiness."
You stared at him, your eyes wide. You had no idea he was suffering so badly during the trip. Guilt gnawed at your stomach. He dragged himself across the country while fighting a terrible illness just to save you.
Shinobu listened to his symptoms. She looked at his serious, stoic face, noting the faint pink dusting the tips of his ears. Then, she looked past his shoulder, watching the way his blue eyes darted quickly to track your movements as you shifted your weight.
A slow and incredibly amused realisation dawned on the Insect Hashira's face. The genius doctor diagnosed his affliction instantly.
Shinobu pressed her hand over her mouth to hide the delighted smirk curving her lips. She had never seen Tomioka invested in anyone besides Tanjiro, but this was a different kind of investment. The Water Hashira was experiencing his very first crush, and the poor, socially inept fool genuinely believed he was dying of a viral infection.
"I see," Shinobu said, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed laughter. "Yes, those are very serious symptoms indeed. We must get you into my office right away for a full examination."
She turned to the veranda, where the three little girls had just returned. "Sumi, Kiyo, Naho! Please escort our new guest to the bathhouse and ensure she has everything she needs."
The three girls nodded eagerly, rushing down the steps to flank you. They grabbed your hands gently, pulling you toward the side garden.
"This way, miss!" Kiyo chirped happily.
You let them lead you away, but you turned your head to look over your shoulder. Giyu was watching you go. He gave you a single, reassuring nod, a silent promise that he was not vanishing just yet.
You smiled back at him, feeling a warm flutter in your stomach, before disappearing around the corner of the wooden building.
Shinobu watched the silent exchange. She turned to Giyu, her smile bright and predatory.
"Right this way, Tomioka-san," she purred, gesturing toward the main infirmary. "Let us see what we can do about this terrible, life-threatening fever of yours."
━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━
The air inside the private examination room smelled of crushed lavender, rubbing alcohol, and dried herbs. Giyu sat stiffly on the edge of the crisp white medical bed, his hands resting on his knees. He kept his posture perfectly straight, awaiting his final diagnosis with the same stoic courage he brought to the battlefield. He had accepted his fate. The violent thunderstorm in the woods, combined with the stress of the journey and the strange, erratic failing of his heart, had finally conquered him.
Shinobu stood a few feet away, holding a polished stethoscope and a small notebook. She observed the Water Hashira with a placid, pleasant smile, though her purple eyes danced with mischievous delight. She had just finished checking his temperature, listening to his lungs, and measuring his wildly accelerated pulse.
"I have already considered the logistics," Giyu stated, his voice a calm, unwavering monotone. He stared straight ahead at the anatomical charts on the wall, refusing to show fear in the face of his imminent demise. "I need you to dispatch a trusted Kakushi to Mount Sagiri by nightfall. My former master, Sakonji Urokodaki, is the beneficiary of my estate. Ensure he receives the remaining funds in my vault. The sum I spent at the Yoshiwara will hardly dent the total, so he will be well provided for."
Shinobu lowered her notebook, her smile widening into a grin she fought hard to conceal. "Oh? Are we discussing your last will and testament, Tomioka-san?"
"It is a necessary precaution," Giyu replied seriously. He closed his eyes, taking a measured breath. "I know my body. The chill from the rainstorm compromised my immune system. The fever has taken root in my chest. My heart rate is dangerously erratic, and the dizzy spells are worsening by the hour. I only ask that you promise to keep the girl safe here after I pass."
Shinobu pressed a hand over her mouth, her shoulders trembling slightly. She had never been more entertained in her entire life. She was a woman of science, a brilliant doctor who dealt with horrific injuries daily, and seeing the formidable Water Hashira diagnosing himself with a terminal illness over a racing pulse was the greatest gift the universe had ever handed her.
She could not resist the opportunity to push him just a little bit further.
"I see," Shinobu hummed, stepping closer and adopting a tone of exaggerated, mournful sympathy. "This is tragic news. I felt your pulse myself. It was fluttering like a terrified rabbit caught in a snare. And your skin is so flushed! You are burning up, Tomioka-san. I fear this mysterious Yoshiwara forest disease might be incurable. We should prepare a comfortable bed for your final hours."
Giyu nodded once, validating his own grim theory. "I knew it. The symptoms were too aggressive to ignore. Do not waste your valuable medical supplies on me, Kocho. Save them for the active slayers."
Shinobu could not hold it in a single second longer. A bright, musical laugh burst from her lips, echoing off the sterile walls of the clinic. She laughed so hard she had to grip the edge of her wooden desk for support, her butterfly haori slipping slightly off her shoulders.
Giyu opened his eyes, frowning in genuine confusion. He watched the Insect Hashira laugh at his deathbed requests, finding her bedside manner incredibly inappropriate.
"I do not see the humour in terminal organ failure," Giyu muttered, his brow furrowing into a dark scowl.
Shinobu wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye, letting out a final, breathless giggle. She straightened her posture, shaking her head at him.
"You are not dying, Tomioka-san," Shinobu declared. "Your lungs are crystal clear. Your temperature is perfectly normal for a healthy adult male. Your immune system is functioning flawlessly. You are in peak physical condition."
Giyu stared at her, unblinking. "That is incorrect. My chest hurts. My face burns without provocation. I am dizzy."
"You are not sick," Shinobu corrected, stepping right up to the examination table and leaning in close, a glint returning to her eyes. "You are just hopelessly, painfully oblivious. You do not have a fever. You have a crush."
The word hung in the sterile air, foreign and incomprehensible.
Giyu stopped breathing. His brain, typically sharp enough to calculate the exact trajectory of a demon's strike in a fraction of a second, ground to a complete and total halt. He searched his extensive vocabulary, trying to find a medical definition for the term she just used, but found nothing that matched his symptoms.
"A… crush?" Giyu repeated, the syllables feeling strange on his tongue.
"Yes, a crush," Shinobu confirmed, crossing her arms and looking immensely satisfied. "Let us review your symptoms logically, shall we? You claim your heart races. Does it race all the time, or only when you are sitting near our new guest? You say your face burns. Does it burn when you are alone, or only when she looks at you and smiles? You feel dizzy and giddy. Is it a constant vertigo, or does it strike when you realise you spent a fortune just to ensure she never has to cry again?"
Giyu sat frozen. He listened as Shinobu broke down his mysterious illness, piece by piece. She systematically destroyed his viral theory, replacing it with a horrifying, undeniable truth.
Every single time his heart skipped a beat in the carriage, you had been looking at him. Every time the heat rushed to his ears, you had spoken his name. The giddiness, the strange flutter in his stomach, the desperate need to stay by your side instead of returning to his own empty estate; it was all linked directly to you.
He was not fighting an infection. He was pining.
The realisation slapped him in the face. The Water Hashira, the stoic warrior who isolated himself from the entire corps, was experiencing human affection. The very concept was so alien to him that his body had interpreted it as a fatal disease.
A fierce, violent blush exploded across Giyu's face. The red colour surged up his neck, engulfing his cheeks, his nose, and the tips of his ears. He looked like a ripe tomato. He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head sharply to the side to avoid Shinobu’s victorious, teasing gaze.
"I do not have a crush," Giyu managed to choke out, his voice noticeably higher and far less confident than usual. "I am simply invested in her well-being as a civilian."
"Of course you are," Shinobu cooed, her tone dripping with sweet sarcasm. "You are just a dedicated public servant. Emptying your vaults, fighting mercenaries in the street, and sitting in my office looking like a boiled crab. It is all very professional."
Before Giyu could formulate a defence to regain his shredded dignity, three sharp, rhythmic knocks echoed against the wooden door of the office.
"Shinobu-sama!" a high-pitched voice called from the hallway. "We have finished helping the new guest! May we come in?"
Shinobu smiled brightly, turning her attention away from the mortified swordsman. "Come in, Kiyo!"
The door slid open.
You stood in the hallway, flanked by the three little butterfly girls. For the first time in days, you felt like a human being again. The hot, steaming water of the estate’s bathhouse had worked miracles. You had scrubbed the foul stench of the Yoshiwara dirt, the forest mud, and the terrifying sweat of the carriage ride from your skin. The girls had been so incredibly kind, washing away the remnants of your traumatic escape with sweet-smelling soap and gentle hands.
More importantly, they had fixed your hair. The frantic, jagged cuts you made with the dull shears were gone. Aoi had stepped in with a pair of professional scissors, expertly evening out the choppy strands until your dark hair fell in an elegant bob right at the nape of your neck. To finish the look, Sumi had tucked a vibrant, purple butterfly-weed flower securely behind your right ear.
You were no longer wearing the stolen, oversized male attendant clothes. Shinobu had provided a clean, simple yukata. It was a soft, pale blue cotton, tied neatly at the waist with a darker indigo sash. It was not the extravagant, suffocating silk of an Oiran, but it fit your frame flawlessly. It highlighted the graceful slope of your shoulders, the delicate curve of your waist, and the natural, effortless grace you carried in every step. Stripped of the heavy white makeup and the gaudy hairpins, your true beauty shone through, radiant and breathtaking.
You stepped into the office, feeling a bit shy under the bright lights of the medical room. You kept your hands folded neatly in front of you, your feet padding softly against the wooden floorboards.
Giyu turned his head at the sound of the sliding door.
When his blue eyes landed on you, the breath was instantly punched from his lungs.
He had only ever seen you at your absolute worst. He saw you disguised as a frightened boy in the dark hollow of a tree. He saw you covered in dust on the village street, weeping into your hands. He thought you were beautiful then, admiring the quiet resilience in your eyes and the kindness in your heart.
But looking at you now, all cleaned up and standing in the soft light of the infirmary, he was rendered entirely speechless.
The simple yukata draped beautifully over your feminine curves, a stark contrast to the bulky uniform that had hidden your shape. The sleek cut of your hair framed your delicate jawline, drawing his attention to the vibrant flower tucked behind your ear. You looked ethereal. You looked like a painting come to life, standing in the sterile medical room and bringing a sudden, blinding warmth to the space.
Giyu forgot how to breathe. He literally forgot the basic mechanics of his Total Concentration Breathing. His heart, which had just begun to settle down from Shinobu's teasing, slammed against his ribs with a frantic rhythm.
You noticed him staring, and the intense, unblinking focus of his striking blue eyes made your stomach flutter. A soft, rosy blush dusted your cheeks, matching the colour of the flower in your hair. You shyly averted your gaze, looking down at the floorboards for a moment before gathering your courage.
You looked back up at him, offering a small, hesitant smile.
"Do you like it, Tomioka-san?" you asked, your voice soft and musical in the quiet room. "The girls were very kind to lend me these clothes. I feel much better."
Giyu opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His vocal cords refused to cooperate. His brain was misfiring, sending panicked signals to every nerve ending in his body. He felt the terrifying, familiar heat rushing back to his face. The giddiness was beginning to hit him again.
He couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t look directly at you without feeling like his chest was going to burst open.
He cleared his throat abruptly, the sound harsh and loud. He spun around, presenting his back to you and staring rigidly at the blank wall of the clinic. He gripped his own knees tightly, trying to ground himself in reality.
"You look nice," Giyu choked out, his voice strained and unnaturally gruff.
He felt dizzy. The room was definitely spinning. The fever was returning. Shinobu was wrong; she had to be a terrible doctor. He was absolutely contracting a fatal illness, and seeing you in that blue yukata was the final trigger his failing heart needed to shut down for good. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to faint right off the examination table.
Behind his back, Shinobu was practically vibrating with silent laughter. The fearsome Water Hashira, the man who severed demon heads without blinking, was currently having a full-blown panic attack because a pretty girl asked him a question. It was the most entertaining spectacle she had witnessed all year.
But seeing Giyu sway slightly on the edge of the bed, Shinobu decided to take mercy on him before he actually passed out from sheer embarrassment.
"Alright, alright, that is quite enough excitement for one day," Shinobu announced, stepping smoothly between you and the hyperventilating swordsman. She clapped her hands together, taking control of the room with effortless authority.
"Tomioka-san, your medical examination is complete. You are physically sound, though I highly recommend you take a cold bath." Shinobu grabbed the sleeve of his uniform and ushered him off the table, pushing him toward the door. "You need to go and report the results of your actual mission to Oyakata-sama. He is expecting you. Afterward, I suggest you return to your estate and try to get some proper rest."
Giyu nodded jerkily, eager to escape the suffocating tension of the room. He needed air. He needed to swing his sword at a tree for six hours to clear his mind. He let Shinobu push him toward the hallway, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the doorframe.
"As for you," Shinobu said, turning her bright, pleasant smile toward you. "I will give you a proper tour of the estate. I will show you the gardens, introduce you to the rest of the kitchen staff, and explain your new duties. You will find life here is very busy, but very rewarding."
You nodded, though a sharp pang of anxiety twisted in your chest. The reality of the situation was setting in. He was leaving. The man who had protected you, provided for you, and brought you to this safe haven was walking out the door to return to his own secretive life.
"Wait," you said softly, taking a step toward the doorway.
Giyu stopped. He turned around slowly, his hand resting on the wooden frame. He kept his gaze focused on your chin, still too overwhelmed to meet your eyes directly.
"Are you leaving now?" you asked, twisting the fabric of your sleeves nervously. "Will I see you again? I know you have important duties, hunting the things you told me about in the carriage. I don’t want to be a burden, but I worry I won't see you much."
Giyu looked at your worried expression. The thought of never seeing you again made his chest tighten painfully, overriding the panic and the embarrassment. He didn't want to leave your side. The last three days had been the strangest, most vibrant days of his life. He had grown used to the comfort of your presence.
He forced himself to look up, meeting your gaze. His blue eyes softened, shedding the cold, unapproachable mask he wore for the rest of the world.
"I will come and visit you," Giyu promised, his voice returning to its steady, reassuring rumble.
You smiled, the anxiety easing slightly. "You will? Even with your missions?"
"Yes," Giyu affirmed, giving a nod. He stood up a little straighter, his dark hair falling across his forehead. He searched his mind for the right word to explain his dedication, the right title to justify why a Hashira would spend his free time visiting a civilian staff member.
He had no family left. He had pushed away his peers. He lived a life defined by solitude and duty. To claim a connection to someone was an unprecedented shift in his reality.
"I will visit you often," Giyu continued, his voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate register. He held your gaze, pouring every ounce of his unpracticed, genuine affection into the next few words. "Because you are my friend."
The word landed in the quiet office with a gentle, yet profound weight.
To anyone else, being called a friend might seem simple. But you saw the slight hesitation before he spoke, the vulnerable sincerity in his eyes, and you understood exactly what it cost him to say it. He was a man who lived in the dark, and he was offering you a permanent place in his life. The way he said it carried a romantic undertone that sent a fresh wave of heat rushing to your cheeks.
"Friend," you repeated softly, testing the word on your tongue. It felt wonderful.
"Yes," Giyu agreed, the tips of his ears flushing pink once more. He cleared his throat, adjusting his grip on his sword hilt. "When I return... can you paint something else for me?"
Your eyes widened in surprise. You remembered the portrait currently tucked safely in the inner pocket of his uniform jacket, resting right against his heart.
"You want me to paint something for you?" you asked, a bright spark of joy igniting in your chest.
Giyu nodded, looking past your shoulder toward the sunlit window of the clinic. "The garden here is nice. Maybe you can paint the wisteria. Or the butterflies."
He wasn't just asking for a painting. He was asking for a reason to return. He was giving you a task to ensure your paths remained intertwined.
You felt an overwhelming happiness bloom inside you. The Yoshiwara, the fear, the rainstorm, it all felt like a distant, faded nightmare. You were standing in a clean yukata, surrounded by safety, making a promise to the kindest man you had ever known.
You beamed at him. It was a radiant, unfiltered smile, shining with absolute joy and a blossoming affection you no longer needed to hide.
"It's a promise, Tomioka-san," you vowed, your voice thick with emotion. "I will paint the most beautiful garden you have ever seen. I will have it ready for your next visit."
Giyu stared at your smiling face. His heart gave one final, massive thump against his ribs. It was an exhilarating sensation, a surge of adrenaline that had absolutely nothing to do with fighting demons. He had never felt anything like this before in his entire life, but as he looked at you, he realised he didn't want the feeling to stop.
He offered you a faint, barely perceptible curve of his lips—the closest thing to a smile he had managed in years.
"I will hold you to that," Giyu murmured.
With a final, lingering look, he turned around and stepped out into the sunlit courtyard, his mismatched haori catching the afternoon breeze.
You watched him go, your heart soaring.
Shinobu stood off to the side, leaning against her desk with a knowing, satisfied smirk on her face. She picked up her medical notebook, tapping her pen against the paper.
"Well," Shinobu chimed in, her voice dripping with amusement. "I suppose we should begin your tour before I die of secondary embarrassment. Come along now. We have a garden to show you, and it seems you have a very important commission to fulfil."
You laughed, a bright, unburdened sound, and followed the Insect Hashira out of the office, ready to begin your new life.
To Be Continued...
——— ✦ ———
Thank you for reading.♡
✦ Check out my Patreon for more content. I'm four chapters ahead on my fics there.
✦ THE MAIN UNIVERSE ✦ Love my writing? Check out my Gothic Romantasy novel — Liquid Sunlight.
↳ Masterlist | Table of Contents | Join my Taglist
Tagging: @ynackerman9499 @roma-sudrabin @eravariety @matchadoinsblog @dap11
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"Usually, he dropped them off, nodded, and forgot their faces by sundown. But your face stuck in his mind."
✦ Pairing — [Giyu x Reader]
✦ Rating — T
✦ Warnings/Tropes - [Protective Giyu, Runaway Reader, Yoshiwara District, Oiran Reader, Artist Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Badass Giyu, Giyu is Bad at Feelings, He Thinks Love is a Fever, Touch-Starved, He literally buys her freedom, Mutual Pining]
✦ Table of Contents
—— ✦ ———
Chapter Three: The Mercenaries' Mistake
The walk from the forest edge to the village took another hour, and you were incredibly grateful when the unpredictable mud finally gave way to a packed dirt road, then smooth paving stones. The smell of damp pine faded, replaced quickly by the comforting, bustling scent of woodsmoke, boiling miso, and fresh morning bread. It was a lively little hub, full of merchants setting up their wooden stalls and farmers hauling heavy carts of produce. You stuck close to Giyu, hiding slightly behind his broad shoulder. Even in your stolen attendant uniform, you felt dangerously exposed. The jagged ends of your hair brushed against your neck, a constant reminder of your hasty and illegal escape.
Giyu noticed your apprehension immediately. He adjusted his stride, subtly shifting his position to shield you from the curious glances of passing villagers. His unique haori drew plenty of stares on its own, acting as the perfect distraction. You soon found a modest inn nestled near the edge of the market square. It looked clean, safe, and most importantly, anonymous.
He walked right through the sliding doors with you, his zori sandals making soft thaps against the wooden floorboards. The innkeeper, a stout woman with keen eyes, took one look at your ragged clothes and opened her mouth, likely to tell you to find another establishment. But Giyu stepped forward. He didn't speak; he just let his cold, authoritative presence fill the small lobby. The innkeeper's mouth snapped shut. She quickly handed over a brass room key, her eyes darting nervously to the katana strapped to his hip.
He didn't leave you at the front desk. He escorted you down the narrow hallway, checking the corners to ensure the space was secure. When you finally reached the small, sliding door of your room, he slid it open and gave the interior a quick, sweeping glance. Only when he was satisfied did he step back into the hall, giving you room to enter.
You stood in the doorway, clutching your canvas sack. The relief of finally having four solid walls and a roof over your head was staggering, but it was immediately overshadowed by a heavy, sinking feeling in your chest. This was it. He was leaving.
"Thank you, Tomioka-san," you said, your voice thick with exhaustion and genuine emotion. You bowed to him, bending low. "You went completely out of your way for me. I wouldn't have made it through that forest, or that storm, without you."
Giyu stood rigidly in the hallway. He looked down at you, watching the way your uneven hair fell forward as you bowed. He heard the gratitude in your voice, and it made his stomach lurch. He didn't feel like a hero. He carried a mountain of ghosts on his back—Sabito, his sister Tsutako—people who died because he was too weak. He spent his life believing he didn't deserve to stand among the Hashira, let alone receive such earnest praise from a civilian he had roughhoused in a tree hollow just hours ago.
He turned his face away, unable to meet your bright eyes. "It is fine," he muttered, his voice strained. "Thank you."
He shifted his weight, feeling a strange, nagging apprehension tightening his chest. You were safe in the inn, but you looked incredibly fragile. You had a tiny sack of belongings and a disguise that wouldn't fool anyone looking closely. He hated the idea of walking away.
"Will you be alright?" he asked, his blue eyes flicking back to your face.
You forced a smile, desperate to reassure him. "I'll be fine. I'm going to rest, then figure out my next step. Don't worry about me."
It was a lie. You secretly wished you could just tag along with him, staying in the quiet, safe bubble he naturally created. But you knew you couldn't drag him into your mess.
Giyu stared at you for a long moment. He wasn't entirely convinced. Slowly, he reached inside the dark fabric of his uniform. He pulled out a small, heavy leather pouch. The distinct clinking sound of coins echoed in the quiet hallway. Without a word of preamble, he held it out to you.
You stared at the pouch, your eyes widening in shock. "What is that?"
"Take it," he said flatly.
"I can't take your money!" you gasped, taking a step back. "You've already done too much. I have a little bit saved up, I'll figure it out—"
"Take it," he repeated, stepping forward and pressing the heavy pouch directly into your hands. "I don't need it."
As a Hashira, Giyu earned an exorbitant salary, far more than he could ever spend living his spartan lifestyle. He had a massive estate back at headquarters and virtually zero expenses. To him, the pouch was just dead weight. To you, it was a lifeline.
Your fingers closed around the warm leather. It was enough money to travel across the country, to buy new clothes, to start a new life. The weight of his kindness crashed over you, bringing a sudden, hot sting of tears to your eyes. He asked for nothing in return. He was just a genuinely good man.
You bowed again, deeper this time, clutching the pouch to your chest. "Thank you. I'll never forget this."
Giyu felt a fierce flush of heat rush up his neck, turning the tips of his ears a bright red. He wasn't equipped to handle this level of emotional vulnerability. He gave you a single, incredibly awkward, curt nod.
"Goodbye," he mumbled, turning sharply on his heel. He practically fled down the hallway, leaving you standing in the doorway with a heart full of gratitude.
━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━
Giyu hit the dirt road leading out of the village at a blistering pace. Now that he was alone, he didn't need to regulate his speed. His sandals propelled him forward as the trees and fields blurred past him. He needed to get back on track. He was supposed to report to headquarters, and this detour had cost him valuable time.
Yet, despite his speed, his mind felt sluggish and weighed down. He felt a strange emptiness walking by himself. For the last several hours, he had grown accustomed to the soft sound of your footsteps trailing behind him, the resilience you showed despite your fear. It was highly unusual for him to care about a civilian's whereabouts once a rescue was complete. Usually, he dropped them off, nodded, and forgot their faces by sundown.
But your face stuck in his mind. The way your eyes lit up when you handed him the onigiri. The elegant, unnatural grace of your posture. The frantic cut of your hair. You were running from something, something that terrified you enough to hack off your hair and brave a forest in the dead of night. He found himself burning with curiosity. Why was a woman who looked like she belonged in a palace masquerading as a filthy errand boy?
"Caw! Slow down! Slow down!"
A loud flutter of black wings broke his concentration. Kanzaburo dropped out of the sky like a stone, landing ungracefully on Giyu's shoulder. The bird's sharp talons gripped the fabric of his haori, flapping wildly to maintain balance.
"What do you want?" Giyu asked, his tone dropping into its usual annoyed register. He kept walking, ignoring the extra weight on his shoulder.
"You left the pretty lady! Caw! Left her all alone!" Kanzaburo squawked, puffing out his dark feathers. "She was a nice girl! Very polite! Not like you! You have terrible manners!"
"Quiet."
"She smiled at me! Caw! She liked Kanzaburo! You should have kept her! You need friends, Giyu! You are too lonely! Caw!"
Giyu gritted his teeth, his hand twitching toward his sword hilt out of reflex. The bird was a menace, old and senile, constantly broadcasting Giyu's most guarded insecurities to the entire forest.
"If you don't shut up, I'll leave you in the next tree," Giyu threatened, though his voice lacked any real bite.
Kanzaburo just clacked his beak, thoroughly unfazed. "Lonely Giyu! Lonely Giyu!"
Giyu tuned the bird out, fixing his gaze on the winding path ahead. The sun was high now, beating down on the dirt road. Up ahead, the trail narrowed, flanked by steep, rocky embankments. Coming down the path from the opposite direction was a group of four men.
They were loud, shoving each other and kicking up dust as they walked. Giyu instantly read their body language. They carried themselves with the sloppy, arrogant swagger of hired muscle. They wore ragged yukatas, smelling strongly of cheap sake and unwashed bodies, even from ten yards away. A few of them carried crude wooden clubs; the leader had a tarnished katana tucked into his sash.
Giyu kept his face blank, moving slightly to the edge of the path to pass them without incident. The thugs stopped their joking as he approached. They eyed his mismatched haori with open disdain, sizing him up for a potential mugging. The leader took a half-step forward, his hand drifting toward his cheap sword.
Then, his eyes caught the weapon resting on Giyu's hip. The Nichirin blade was forged with unmistakable quality, the wrapped hilt screaming of lethal, disciplined training. The thug's bravado evaporated instantly. He swallowed hard, taking a quick step back and signalling his men to let the strange swordsman pass.
Giyu didn't even look at them. He kept his steady pace, slipping past the group. He was ten feet away when he heard the leader speak up again, his voice dropping into a harsh, excited whisper.
"Forget him. We need to hurry if we want a cut of the payout."
"You really think she's in that village?" one of the flunkies asked, his voice grating and loud.
"It's the only logical stop," the leader replied, spitting onto the dirt. "A pampered Yoshiwara Oiran committing Ashinuke? She won't last two days in the wild. She'll head straight for an inn. Those other mercenaries are already at the village waiting. If we get there before they find her, we can drag her back to the madam and claim the bounty ourselves."
Giyu froze. His sandals ground into the dirt, halting his momentum instantly.
Kanzaburo squawked in surprise, nearly tumbling off his shoulder.
The pieces crashed together in Giyu's mind with clarity. The flawless, soft skin. The elegant posture. The stolen attendant uniform. The ornate, incredibly expensive hairpin she had attacked him with. The jagged hair, cut in a frantic attempt to hide her identity.
You were an Oiran. You ran away from the Yoshiwara. And those men—the mercenaries—were already at the village. They were waiting for you. You had walked right into a trap, and he had personally escorted you to the center of it.
Dread spiked through his veins, instantly followed by a surge of white-hot adrenaline.
He didn't think; his body just moved.
Before the lead thug could take another step toward the village, a violent gust of wind blasted his face. Giyu materialised directly in front of him, moving with a speed that defied human logic. The thug gasped, stumbling backwards, his hand fumbling uselessly for his sword.
"Who are you talking about?" Giyu demanded. His voice was no longer flat, and his blue eyes locked onto the leader, radiating a suffocating pressure.
"Hey! Back off, man!" one of the flunkies yelled, raising his wooden club and swinging it blindly at Giyu's head.
Giyu didn't even draw his blade. He simply shifted his weight, dodging the clumsy swing by a fraction of an inch. With a swift motion, he slammed the heavy scabbard of his sword upward, catching the thug right under the jaw. The man's eyes rolled back instantly, and he crumpled to the dirt like a dropped puppet.
The remaining three men panicked. The leader finally drew his tarnished katana, letting out a terrified battle cry as he lunged. Giyu sidestepped the thrust effortlessly. He grabbed the leader's wrist, twisted it sharply, and drove his knee straight into the man's stomach. The cheap sword clattered to the ground as the leader collapsed, wheezing and gagging for air.
The last two men dropped their weapons, falling to their knees, begging for mercy.
Giyu stood over the gasping leader, his face a mask of furious, terrifying calm. "The Oiran," he said, his voice slicing through the men's pathetic whimpering. "Tell me exactly who is looking for her, and where they are waiting."
"I don't know the exact inn!" the leader choked out, clutching his stomach, tears streaming down his dirt-streaked face. "I swear! A bunch of bounty hunters tracked her footprints from the district! They arrived at the village this morning! They're searching every room! They'll drag her back alive, the client wants her punished!"
They arrived this morning. They were already searching the inns.
Giyu dropped the man's collar, stepping back. The thugs scrambled away, dragging their unconscious friend, but Giyu wasn't paying attention to them anymore. His heart slammed against his chest with an anxiety he hadn't felt in years.
He left you there. He left you alone in a room, completely defenceless, carrying a bag of his money that wouldn't do a damn thing to stop a blade.
"Kanzaburo," Giyu barked, his voice tight. "Go."
The crow took to the sky, sensing the intense shift in his master's demeanour.
Giyu pivoted on his heel, facing the road back to the village. He utilised Total Concentration Breathing, flooding his lungs with oxygen, pushing his leg muscles to their absolute breaking point. The world around him blurred into a streak of green and brown as he sprinted down the road, his sandals kicking up clouds of dust.
He prayed to whatever gods were listening that he wasn't too late. He wouldn't let you be dragged back to that hell. He just had to get there in time.
To Be Continued...
——— ✦ ———
Thank you for reading.♡
✦ Check out my Patreon for more content. I'm four chapters ahead on my fics there.
✦ THE MAIN UNIVERSE ✦ Love my writing? Check out my Gothic Romantasy novel — Liquid Sunlight.
↳ Masterlist | Table of Contents | Join my Taglist
Shades of Blue — Chapter Six
AN INCH OF BLUE STEEL
"Come, Giyu said, his voice softer now, a gentle invitation to leave the darkness behind. I am taking you to your new home."
✦ Pairing — [Giyu x Reader]
✦ Rating — T
✦ Warnings/Tropes - [Protective Giyu, Runaway Reader, Yoshiwara District, Oiran Reader, Artist Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Badass Giyu, Giyu is Bad at Feelings, He Thinks Love is a Fever, Touch-Starved, He literally buys her freedom, Mutual Pining]
✦ Table of Contents
—— ✦ ———
Chapter Six: An Inch of Blue Steel
In the bright, unforgiving light of the mid-morning sun, the entertainment district lost all its artificial, seductive magic.
Without the warm glow of the red paper lanterns to soften the edges, the towering wooden buildings looked like rotting teeth. The streets were littered with the remnants of the previous night's debauchery. Sweepers pushed brooms lazily over the cobblestones, clearing away discarded sake cups, torn scraps of silk, and the scent of cheap perfume mixed with stale alcohol. It was a bleak and miserable place in the daylight.
Your disguise was completely useless out here in the open. The oversized, stolen male attendant's clothes hung awkwardly on your delicate frame. Your hastily chopped hair exposed the elegant curve of your neck and the distinct, cloud-shaped birthmark. People were already beginning to stare. Passing merchants paused their carts, their eyes trailing over your flawless face. A face like yours, carefully maintained with expensive creams and shielded from the harsh sun for years, did not belong to a common errand boy.
You felt naked.
You felt as though the word ‘runaway’ was painted across your forehead in bright red ink. You shrank in on yourself, your hands gripping the strap of your canvas sack until your knuckles turned stark white.
Giyu noticed the shift in your posture immediately. He didn't offer any empty words of comfort. Instead, he smoothly adjusted his position, moving to walk slightly ahead and to the left of you. His shoulders acted as a shield, breaking the line of sight between you and the curious onlookers. His hand rested naturally near the hilt of his Nichirin blade. He projected an aura of unapproachable danger that caused the staring merchants to quickly avert their eyes and hurry along.
"Keep your eyes on the ground," Giyu instructed, his voice anchoring you to the present moment. "We are almost at the eastern gate."
You nodded, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. The walk felt like a march to the executioner's block, but his presence kept your legs from collapsing entirely.
At the eastern entrance, standing beneath the shadow of the massive wooden archway, were two figures dressed in dark, unfamiliar uniforms. Their faces were obscured by dark veils, revealing only their wide, anxious eyes. Between them sat a massive, iron-bound blue trunk. Circling high above them, squawking loudly was Kanzaburo.
The two Kakushi straightened up immediately as Giyu approached. They bowed so quickly and deeply, they nearly slammed their heads into the heavy iron trunk. But as they rose, their eyes darted from Giyu to you, taking in your ragged clothes and your striking beauty. Their postures radiated a frantic energy. They looked like men who had just witnessed a priest kick a dog.
"Tomioka-sama," the taller Kakushi greeted, his voice muffled and tight behind his mask. "We secured the funds from your personal vault, exactly as requested. We made the journey as fast as possible. Though I must admit, the message we received from your Kasugai crow caused quite a panic at the estate."
Giyu stopped, his expression remaining blank. "What exactly did Kanzaburo say?"
The shorter Kakushi shifted his weight uncomfortably, gesturing nervously toward you. "Well, sir. The crow flew into the courtyard screaming at the top of its lungs. He announced that the Water Hashira was heading directly to the Yoshiwara red-light district to purchase a woman for the night. He demanded we empty your vaults to pay for her. The entire estate heard him."
All the blood drained from your face in a rush as a sickening wave of mortification washed over you. The misunderstanding was catastrophic.
Because of you, and because of this ancient bird, Giyu's subordinates genuinely believed he was a lecherous man marching into a brothel to buy a prostitute. You were tarnishing the reputation of the most honourable, selfless man you had ever met. You wanted the dirt beneath your sandals to open up and swallow you forever. You ducked your head, your face burning with intense shame.
But Giyu didn’t break his stoic facade. His facial muscles didn’t even twitch, and his blue eyes remained level. However, the tips of his ears betrayed him, flushing a bright, burning shade of red. He tilted his head back slightly, shooting a murderous glare up at the circling crow. Kanzaburo wisely stopped his squawking and flew much higher into the safety of the clouds.
"The crow is senile," Giyu stated flatly, his voice carrying an edge. "I am not purchasing a companion for pleasure. I am clearing a legal debt to secure this woman's permanent freedom from her abusers. She requires immediate safe passage to the Butterfly Mansion after the transaction is complete. You will correct the rumours the second you return."
The two Kakushi visibly sagged, a wave of relief washing over their bodies.
"Oh, thank the gods," the taller Kakushi sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. "We thought you had lost your mind, sir. We understand the situation completely now."
Though relieved of the scandalous implications, the two men exchanged a bewildered look. The Water Hashira was famously detached from the world. He kept to himself, spoke very little, and never interfered in civilian affairs unless a demon was actively involved. Emptying his personal vaults and travelling to the Yoshiwara for a woman he had just met was wildly out of character. It was an unprecedented display of emotion and effort. But looking at the serious set of Giyu's jaw, neither man dared to voice their surprise or question his orders.
Giyu turned his attention back to the trunk. "Lift it. We are moving to her house."
The Kakushi scrambled to obey. They each grabbed an iron handle on the sides of the blue trunk. They braced their legs and hauled upward. You watched as the veins popped in their necks. They grunted loudly, their boots scraping against the dirt as they struggled to lift the chest off the ground.
Your heart hammered in your chest. That trunk was filled with yen, and the reality of the fortune he was spending on you made a pool of guilt well in your belly. It was too much. You were just a runaway, a nobody. You didn't feel worth the backbreaking effort these men were exerting, let alone the massive sum of money locked inside that wood. You opened your mouth to protest, to beg him to reconsider and just let you figure this out on your own, but Giyu caught your eye. He gave you a single, firm nod. The debate was over.
You pointed a trembling finger down the main thoroughfare, guiding them toward the house you had fled.
The walk through the district was a march through your own personal purgatory. Every familiar alleyway, every closed wooden lattice window, brought a fresh wave of nausea. You recognised the scent of the specific incense burning outside the teahouses. You recognised the colourful banners hanging from the balconies. The terror felt like it was pressing down on your chest, stealing the oxygen from your lungs. As you approached the imposing, multi-story front of your house, your knees nearly buckled.
The sliding doors were thrown wide open to the street, and from inside the grand entryway, angry, shrill voices echoed outward, shattering the quiet morning air.
"Useless! Every single one of you is completely useless!" the madam shrieked. Her voice grated against your eardrums. "She is a pampered, weak little doll! She couldn't have made it past the forest in the rain! Where are those pathetic thugs I paid to drag her back? I want her found, and I want her stripped and beaten in the streets!"
You stumbled, your legs refusing to support your weight for another step. Giyu was there instantly. His hand shot out, gripping your shoulder before looking down at you with those calm blue eyes. He didn't speak, but his touch communicated everything you needed to know. He meant what he said. He would not let anyone touch you.
Giyu stepped through the grand doorway first, taking the lead. You followed right on his heels, using his body as a shield. The two Kakushi squeezed in behind you, hauling the large trunk and effectively sandwiching you in a protective formation.
The interior of the house was a chaotic mess. Terrified attendants scrambled around the polished wooden floors, attempting to clean up the shattered teacups the madam had thrown in her rage. Several of the lower-ranking prostitutes peeked out from behind the sliding paper screens, their eyes wide with fear. In the corner, kneeling quietly by the wall with a broom in her hands, was the young attendant girl who had caught you escaping. She kept her head bowed, having bravely kept your secret safe from the madam's wrath.
The madam stood in the centre of the room. She was a terrifying woman, clad in a lavish silk kimono, her face heavily painted with thick white powder and vibrant red lipstick. Sharp, expensive hairpins jutted from her elaborate hairstyle.
She whipped around at the sound of heavy footsteps entering her domain. Her furious tirade died instantly in her throat. Her sharp, calculating eyes darted from the armed swordsman to the masked Kakushi, to the blue trunk they carried.
Then, her gaze shifted past Giyu's shoulder, and she locked eyes with you.
Her painted lips curled into an ugly snarl. "You little rat," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.
She lunged forward, her hands outstretched, fully intending to grab you by your hair and drag you to the floor.
But Giyu moved faster than she could blink. He stepped directly into her path, placing his body between you and the enraged woman. He rested his right hand casually on the hilt of his Nichirin katana. He didn't draw the blade, but the pressure he released filled the room instantly. The air grew cold, and the threat of violence radiating from him was heavy.
The madam froze in her tracks, her survival instincts screaming at her to back away from the terrifying man with the mismatched haori. She lowered her hands slowly, as her chest heaved with fury.
"I am here to settle her accounts," Giyu stated as he jerked his head in your direction.
The attendants gasped collectively. The women hiding behind the screens whispered frantically to one another, completely flabbergasted by the scene unfolding in their entryway. No one simply walked into the Yoshiwara and demanded to settle an Oiran's enormous debt.
The madam quickly recovered her composure, letting out a mocking laugh that grated on your nerves. "What kind of trickery is this?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked past Giyu, fixing her hateful stare on you. "Is this the fool you ran off with? Is this the man you foolishly committed ashinuke for?"
She turned her attention back to Giyu, looking him up and down with open disdain. She took in his dusty uniform and the strange, patched haori. "I don't recognise your handsome face in the Yoshiwara, swordsman. But you are making a grave mistake. You have no idea who you are dealing with. Her debts are an exorbitant amount. She inherited a mountain of liabilities from her worthless mother, plus the cost of her food, her board, her training, and her clothes. A vagabond like you could never afford her. She is my property."
Giyu didn’t react to the insults. He simply glanced over his shoulder at the two sweating Kakushi.
"Drop the chest," Giyu ordered.
The Kakushi immediately let go of the iron handles. The blue trunk slammed into the wooden floorboard with a thunderous thud. The sheer force of the impact cracked the thick wood beneath the trunk and sent splinters flying everywhere.
The madam flinched as her eyes widened in shock.
Giyu gracefully knelt down, flicked the iron clasps open with his thumbs, before throwing the thick lid back.
The entire room collectively stopped breathing.
The trunk was packed to the brim with neatly bound, towering stacks of yen. It was a staggering amount of money. It was a small fortune, enough to buy the brothel and burn it all to the ground. You stared at the paper, absolutely speechless. You knew he was wealthy, but seeing the reality of his promise laid bare on the cracked floorboards shattered your expectations entirely. You had never seen that much money in your life.
The madam's jaw was practically unhinged. Her calculating eyes locked onto the trunk, captivated by the fortune sitting in her entryway. The cruel mockery vanished from her face instantly, replaced by a fawning respect. She recognised raw power when she saw it, and the man before her wielded a level of wealth that demanded immediate reverence.
She hurriedly smoothed the front of her silk kimono, bowing her head deeply toward Giyu. "My deepest apologies, sir. I did not realise I was speaking to a man of such immense standing. I spoke out of turn."
She took a step closer to the chest, her eyes gleaming with greed. But as she looked at the money, her gaze flicked back to you. The hatred she harboured for you burned hot and bright. She had despised your mother. She hated your mother's beauty, her grace, and her popularity, and that bitter jealousy had transferred directly to you the moment you were born. The thought of you walking away from her control, rescued by this wealthy, powerful saviour, made her itch with spite. She didn't want you to win. She didn't think you deserved the effort this mysterious man was giving you.
"Sir, if you are looking to purchase a woman for your time, you have brought far more than necessary," the madam continued, her voice dripping with fake, sugary sweetness. "This girl you have brought back is damaged goods. She is rebellious, ungrateful, and already used. For this price, I can offer you someone much better. I will give you one of my virgin girls. No, I will give you three of them! Fresh, obedient, and eager to please a man of your stature. You can take them right now, and I will lock this rat back in the cellar where she belongs."
Giyu looked at the woman, disgust twisting his features. The casual and callous way she bartered human lives, tossing young girls around as if they were cheap commodities to sweeten a deal, sickened him to his core.
"I am not buying a prostitute," Giyu stated, his voice laced with contempt. He stood back up to his full height, towering over the madam. "I am paying for her permanent freedom. Take the money you are owed and wipe her name from your ledgers forever."
The madam ground her teeth together, her painted smile straining under the intensity of his glare. "Sir, it isn't that simple. I cannot just let her walk away. She was already bought out. A very wealthy client secured her company for the next six months. He paid a premium price in advance. I cannot simply hand her over to you without violating that contract."
"The money in that chest more than covers his refund," Giyu countered smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument or negotiation. "Give him his money back. If he has a problem with the arrangement, tell him he can take it up with me."
The madam stared at the fortune sitting on her floor. Her mind raced. To turn down that amount of yen would be financial suicide. The money in the trunk covered your entire inherited debt, the merchant's refund, and still left enough profit to satisfy her greed . It was the best deal she would ever see in her lifetime. But her pride still rebelled. She hated the idea of you being free. She hated seeing you rewarded for breaking her rules. She opened her mouth, ready to swallow her bitter pride and accept the fortune before the swordsman changed his mind.
"Absolutely not!" a booming, furious voice roared from the entrance of the house.
Everyone in the room, except Giyu, jumped, turning toward the open sliding doors. Standing on the threshold, blocking the morning sunlight, was Sadao, the wealthy merchant. His face was red, bloated, and slick with sweat. He had spent the entire night tearing the district apart, furious that the beautiful prize he had paid for had slipped through his fingers and made a fool of him.
Sadao marched heavily into the room, his expensive silk robes swishing aggressively around his ankles. He took one look at your jagged hair and oversized boy's clothes, his face twisting into a snarl. Then, he turned his furious gaze upon Giyu.
"I overheard everything from the street!" Sadao bellowed, pointing a thick, gold-ringed finger directly at the madam. "This is completely unacceptable! That girl is my property! I paid for her body, and she belongs in my bed for the next six months! No one else is taking her!"
He turned his attention to Giyu, stepping closer and sneering at the mismatched fabric of the haori. Sadao was a man used to getting exactly what he wanted through intimidation and wealth, and he had no idea he was currently yelling at one of the deadliest swordsmen in the country.
"And who the hell do you think you are?" Sadao shouted, his voice echoing off the wooden walls. "You think you can just march into the Yoshiwara with a sword and steal what is legally mine? You freak! You look like a patched-up beggar!"
Sadao spun back to the madam, his face turning an ugly, mottled shade of purple. "If you accept this beggar's money, I will ensure this house never sees another coin of business! I will tell every merchant in the capital that you break your contracts! I will ruin your reputation and burn your livelihood to the ground!"
The madam gasped, taking a frightened step backwards. The threat of losing all her wealthy clientele was terrifying, even with the chest of yen sitting on the floor.
You stood behind Giyu, trembling with anxiety and fear as the sound of Sadao's voice brought all the horrific memories crashing back into your mind. The smell of his stale breath, the bruising touch of his hands. You pressed yourself closer to Giyu's back, silently praying for the nightmare to end.
Giyu didn’t flinch at the merchant's loud insults. He kept his body firmly planted between you and the angry men in the room, his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade, his blue eyes cold and ready for whatever came next.
Sadao was a man accustomed to absolute obedience. In his world, coin was the ultimate authority, and he possessed enough of it to crush anyone who dared defy him.
He glared at Giyu, expecting the mismatched swordsman to cower under the weight of his booming voice. He expected him to step aside, apologize, and surrender the prize he had rightfully purchased.
But Giyu stood like an ancient stone pillar, his sandals rooted firmly to the polished wooden floorboards. He didn’t offer a retort or raise his voice to match the merchant's aggressive volume. He simply stared at Sadao with eyes as cold and unforgiving as a frozen lake. The absence of reaction from the slayer was a tactic more terrifying than any shouted threat. It communicated that Giyu didn’t view Sadao as a threat. He viewed him as an obstacle, and a minor one at that.
You remained tucked safely behind Giyu's back, your hands gripping the rough fabric of your canvas sack so tightly your knuckles ached. The sound of Sadao's voice made you want to shrink into the floorboards and disappear into the cracks of the wood, but Giyu’s presence anchored you in place. You stared at the back of his dark uniform, drawing strength from the steady rise and fall of his shoulders. He wasn’t backing down.
"Are you deaf, you patched-up stray?" Sadao bellowed as spit flew from his lips. "I told you to step aside! That woman is mine! I hold the contract. I paid the premium. She is going to walk out of this house with me, and if you try to interfere, I will have the capital guards throw you in a cell to rot!"
Giyu remained silent. His right hand rested lightly on the wrapped hilt of his katana. His thumb rested against the metal guard, a casual, relaxed posture that contrasted with the lethal intent simmering just beneath his skin.
The silence infuriated the merchant. Sadao wasn’t equipped to handle someone who refused to play by the rules of intimidation. He threw his hands up in the air, turning his furious gaze toward the madam, who was currently staring longingly at the open trunk of yen.
"Tell him!" Sadao roared, pointing a trembling finger at the woman. "Tell this beggar that the deal is done! If he touches her, it is theft! I will have his head for it!"
The madam swallowed hard, her eyes darting between the angry merchant, the fortune sitting on her floor, and the terrifying swordsman standing in her entryway. Her greed waged a war against her fear of losing Sadao's future business. But as she looked at Giyu's deadpan expression, she realized she had no power in this situation. She kept her mouth shut, taking a cautious step backward, refusing to intervene.
Realizing he was getting nowhere with his threats, Sadao's frustration boiled over into reckless anger. He decided to bypass the silent swordsman entirely. He set his sights on you. He could see your trembling frame hiding behind Giyu’s.
"Get over here right now!" Sadao barked as his eyes locked onto you.
He lunged forward, extending a meaty, ring-covered hand, aiming to bypass Giyu's shoulder and grab you by the collar of your stolen uniform drag you away.
Shing.
The sound was sharp, metallic, and incredibly loud in the tense quiet of the room. It cut through the air like a crack of thunder.
Sadao froze mid-step, his outstretched hand hovering mere inches from Giyu's shoulder.
Giyu hadn’t drawn the sword fully, only shifting his thumb and pushing the metal guard upward by an inch. But that single inch was more than enough. The brilliant blue steel of the Nichirin blade caught the sunlight pouring through the open doors. It gleamed and the temperature in the room plummeted instantly.
Sadao stared at the inch of exposed blue steel. The furious red flush drained from his face in a matter of seconds, leaving him a sickly gray. A thick bead of sweat formed at his temple, tracing a slow path down his cheek and dripping off his jaw.
At his core, Sadao was a coward. He was a man who hid behind hired muscle and heavy coin purses. He had never held a blade in his life, and he had certainly never faced a man who knew how to use one. Looking at the relaxed, effortless way Giyu held the weapon, and feeling the pressure radiating from the slayer, Sadao's self-preservation instincts finally overrode his entitled rage. He realized that if he moved his hand one inch closer to you, this silent man would sever it from his wrist without a second thought.
Sadao didn’t have his bodyguards with him. He was alone, unarmed, and standing inches away from a lethal predator.
Slowly and trembling, Sadao pulled his arm back. He took a stumbling, clumsy step backward, putting distance between himself and the glint of the blue katana. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
He needed to save face. He couldn’t just run away in front of the madam and the gathered attendants. He puffed his chest out, though the gesture lacked any real conviction.
"Fine!" Sadao spat, his voice cracking slightly under the strain of his fear. He turned his attention away from Giyu and glared fiercely at the madam. "If you want to run a lawless establishment, that is your choice! But you will return my money immediately! And I want it doubled for the immense inconvenience and the insult to my honor!"
The madam nodded frantically, eager to appease him and defuse the situation. "Yes, Sadao-sama. Of course. Right away."
Sadao turned his furious, humiliated gaze back to Giyu. He wanted to say something that would assert his dominance, but the cold, unblinking stare of the swordsman silenced him. Instead, Sadao hawked a thick wad of phlegm from his throat and spat it onto the polished wooden floor, right at the tip of Giyu's sandal.
He shot one final, venomous glare in your direction, his eyes promising retribution, and then he spun on his heel. His expensive silk robes swished loudly as he stormed out of the grand entryway, his footsteps echoing down the cobblestone street until he was entirely gone from sight.
You let out a shuddering breath as your knees buckled slightly. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead lightly against the back of Giyu's shoulder to steady yourself. He was actually gone. The monster who had haunted your every waking moment, the man who owned the rights to your body for the next six months, had just walked out the door and surrendered his claim.
The grand entryway was quiet in the wake of Sadao's dramatic exit. The attendants held their breath. The Kakushi stood rigid, still holding the heavy iron handles of the open trunk.
Giyu looked down at the spit resting near his sandal. His expression remained impassive, then he shifted his thumb, sliding the Nichirin blade back into its scabbard.
Click.
The sound of the sword locking into place seemed to break the spell cast over the room, allowing everyone to finally breathe again.
Giyu turned his eyes toward the madam. She was still staring at the doorway, her chest heaving with lingering adrenaline.
"The merchant has been refunded," Giyu stated, his voice steady and even. He gestured toward the massive trunk overflowing with stacked yen. "The rest of this fortune covers her inherited debt, her living expenses, and the cost of breaking her contract. The sum is vast enough to ensure you never speak her name again."
He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the terrified woman. He looked down at her, his gaze piercing right through her painted exterior.
"Do we have a deal?" Giyu asked.
The madam looked at the trunk, then up at the imposing swordsman. She knew she was beaten. She hated you, and she hated losing her prized Oiran, but she loved money far more than she loved revenge. She bowed her head, submitting to the overwhelming force standing in her foyer.
"We have a deal," the madam conceded, her voice tight but compliant. "Her ledgers will be burned today. She is no longer affiliated with this house. She is no longer property of the Yoshiwara."
The words hit you like a punch to the gut.
You felt the invisible chains shatter into a million pieces. The weight that had pressed down on your lungs since you were an eight-year-old girl sweeping these very floors vanished. You were not a commodity. You were not an investment. You were not a prisoner.
You were free.
You were truly, unbelievably free.
You couldn’t help it as a sudden sob tore its way out of your throat. The sound echoed in the quiet room, and you dropped your canvas sack onto the floor, not caring about the staring attendants. You didn't care about the madam's bitter glare. You didn't care about the rules of propriety or the strict social decorum you had spent your entire life mastering.
You looked at the quiet man standing a few feet away. Giyu had walked into hell, stared down demons of human greed, and bought your life with a fortune he claimed over a simple rice ball.
Before you could stop yourself, before your rational mind could interject and warn you about crossing boundaries, you moved.
You launched yourself forward, closing the short distance between you and threw your arms wide and wrapped them tightly around his torso. You buried your face directly into the center of his chest, pressing your cheek against the dark, sturdy fabric of his uniform. You squeezed him with all the meager strength you possessed, your fingers gripping the material of his haori as you sobbed.
The entire room inhaled sharply.
The taller Kakushi gasped so loudly he choked on his own saliva, his hands flying up to clutch the sides of his veiled head. The shorter Kakushi stumbled backward, his knees knocking together, looking as though he might faint from shock. The attendants covered their mouths.
Giyu turned into a statue.
He went as still as a block of winter ice. His brain simply ceased to function. Every single combat instinct, every breathing technique, every tactical strategy he had ever learned evaporated from his mind, replaced by a blaring void of absolute panic.
He had not been hugged since he was a child. The last person to hold him with this kind of desperate, protective affection was his older sister, Tsutako, right before she hid him away to die in his place. Since that day, his life had been defined by violence, isolation, and professional distance. He was a weapon forged in tragedy. He was touch-starved to a degree he didn't even comprehend, living in a world where physical contact meant either inflicting pain or receiving a fatal wound.
And now, you were holding him.
He felt the warmth of your body pressing against his uniform. He felt the rapid beating of your heart against his own ribs. He felt the damp heat of your tears soaking through the fabric of his clothes. It was an overwhelming flood of sensory information.
It felt incredibly strange. It felt foreign and terrifying.
But it also felt good.
It felt so warm and safe that it made his throat ache. His arms hung rigidly at his sides, stiff as wooden boards. He didn’t know where to put his hands. Should he push you away? Should he pat your back? Should he stand perfectly still until you finished? He stared wide-eyed at the opposite wall, his pulse skyrocketing.
His face felt like it was on fire. The fever was definitely reaching a critical, life-threatening stage. He was sweating. He was giddy, his chest tight with a bizarre, fluttering sensation that made him want to scoop you up and carry you away from this miserable district forever. The internal system failure was catastrophic. He was the Water Hashira, a master of calm and fluid adaptation, yet he was currently being dismantled by a weeping woman.
You didn't want to let him go. The solid strength of his chest was the safest place you had ever known. You had no words to thank him. You had no riches to offer him in return. You only had this overwhelming gratitude pouring out of you in endless waves of tears. You cried for your mother, for the years you lost, and for the beautiful future sitting right in front of you.
Finally, after seconds of rigid panic, Giyu's brain managed to reboot.
He needed to offer comfort. That was the logical response to a crying civilian. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply. Hesitantly, he raised his right arm. It felt heavy, as if he were lifting a boulder. He brought his hand down, letting his palm rest gently on the top of your hair.
He gave you a stiff, incredibly awkward pat. Then another.
"It is fine," Giyu murmured, his voice strained. "You are safe now."
The gentle, albeit robotic, pats on your head brought you back to reality. The haze of emotional release began to clear, replaced by a sudden, mortifying awareness of your surroundings. You were clinging to a highly respected man in front of an audience. You could hear the muffled, frantic whispering of the Kakushi behind you.
You stopped your sobbing, drawing a shaky breath. You loosened your death grip on his haori and slowly tilted your head back to look up at him.
Giyu was looking down at you. His face was still locked in that flawless, unreadable expression of stoic calm, but the illusion was shattered by the vibrant, burning red color painting the tips of his ears and creeping down his neck.
The second your tear-filled eyes met his blue ones, he looked away. He snapped his gaze back to the far wall, his jaw tightening as he desperately tried to suppress the warmth blooming in his chest. His fever was getting severe. He needed Shinobu’s medical expertise immediately. He was probably contagious.
You pulled away quickly, taking a large step backward. You wiped your wet cheeks with your rough sleeves, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over you.
"I am so sorry, Tomioka-san!" you stammered, bowing your head in a frantic apology. "I didn't mean to overstep. I was just… I am just so grateful. I didn't know how else to thank you. Please forgive my lack of manners."
"It is fine," Giyu repeated quickly. He cleared his throat, adjusting the collar of his uniform in a rare display of nervous energy. He kept his eyes averted, staring at the wooden floorboards. "You do not need to apologize."
He took a steadying breath, forcefully shoving the overwhelming emotions into a tight, locked box in the back of his mind. He needed to focus on the mission. The transaction was complete. The merchant was gone. The madam was appeased. There was absolutely no reason for them to remain in this house for a single second longer.
He turned back to face you, his professional demeanor somewhat restored, though his ears remained stubbornly pink.
"Go and pack your things," Giyu instructed, his voice returning to its steady, commanding rumble. "Gather whatever you need from your room."
You looked at him, wiping the last stray tear from your chin. "My room?"
"Yes," Giyu nodded. "We are leaving. We need to begin the journey before sundown."
You hesitated, looking around the entryway, then down at the canvas sack resting near your feet. Inside that sack were your bamboo brushes, your vibrant pigments, the crushed-flower portrait of the man standing before you, the heavy pouch of coins he had given you, and your mother's silver hairpin.
You looked back up at Giyu. A small, but radiant smile broke across your face.
"I don't need to go to my room," you said softly. "Everything I own is right here in this bag. There is nothing in this house I want to take with me."
The expensive silk kimonos, the bronze mirrors, the ornate combs, they all belonged to the Oiran. They belonged to a ghost. You were just a painter now. You were a free woman, and you were traveling light.
Giyu looked at your smiling face, and he felt that strange, terrifying thump in his chest once more. He didn't understand it, but as he looked at the joy radiating from you, he decided he didn't mind the fever all that much.
"Understood," Giyu said, giving a nod. He turned to the two Kakushi, who were still recovering from the shock of the embrace. "Leave the trunk. The transaction is concluded."
The Kakushi bowed deeply, though they still cast bewildered glances between you and the Water Hashira. Only the Water Estate had heard Kanzaburo's botched message, and this sudden, intimate display was doing absolutely nothing to convince them that the crow was entirely wrong.
Giyu stepped toward the open sliding doors, the bright morning sun catching the crimson and geometric patterns of his haori. He paused at the threshold, turning his head slightly to look back at you.
"Come," Giyu said, his voice softer now, a gentle invitation to leave the darkness behind. "I am taking you to your new home."
To Be Continued...
——— ✦ ———
Thank you for reading.♡
✦ Check out my Patreon for more content. I'm four chapters ahead on my fics there.
✦ THE MAIN UNIVERSE ✦ Love my writing? Check out my Gothic Romantasy novel — Liquid Sunlight.
↳ Masterlist | Table of Contents | Join my Taglist
Tagging: @ynackerman9499 @roma-sudrabin @eravariety @matchadoinsblog @dap11
Shades of Blue — Chapter Five
DIAGNOSING A FEVER
"'You aren't the same girl who ran away,' Giyu said. 'You aren't an Oiran anymore. You aren't their property. You're walking in there to watch them tear up your contract. And I'm right beside you.'"
✦ Pairing — [Giyu x Reader]
✦ Rating — T
✦ Warnings/Tropes - [Protective Giyu, Runaway Reader, Yoshiwara District, Oiran Reader, Artist Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Badass Giyu, Giyu is Bad at Feelings, He Thinks Love is a Fever, Touch-Starved, He literally buys her freedom, Mutual Pining]
✦ Table of Contents
—— ✦ ———
Chapter Five: Diagnosing a Fever
The hired carriage rattled over the packed dirt road. It was a modest wooden construct, pulled by two sturdy horses, but to you, it felt like a royal palanquin. You sat on the cushioned bench, your canvas sack clutched tightly in your lap, relishing the physical relief. Just yesterday, you were trudging through the freezing rain and mud, your feet bleeding against cheap straw sandals. It had taken you a brutal, exhausting half day of walking to reach the village. Now, the return journey would take less time, and the carriage spared your muscles the punishment.
Across the small cab sat the man who had flipped your entire universe upside down in a matter of hours. Giyu rested his arm against the windowsill, his gaze directed outward at the passing countryside.
You stole a glance at him. Then another. And another.
You thought you were being subtle, using the sway of the carriage as an excuse to shift your vision. You didn’t know that his peripheral vision was sharp enough to track a demon moving at supersonic speeds. He registered every single time your eyes darted toward him, noting the nervous shift of your posture and the tight grip you had on your bag. He just chose not to acknowledge it, content to let the silence sit between you.
Your mind was buzzing with a million unanswered questions. The initial shock of the alleyway fight and his outrageous financial proposition were wearing off, leaving behind a trail of confusion. Who was Tomioka Giyu, truly?
You analysed the clues. He wore a strange, dark uniform underneath that striking haori. He carried a katana in broad daylight, despite the strict government bans on such weapons. He possessed physical strength and speed that defied human logic. And the money. He casually promised to summon a small fortune to buy out an Oiran's contract, speaking of personal vaults and a place called the ‘Water Estate’. Did he own an actual estate? Was he some sort of wealthy nobleman? But what kind of nobleman slept sitting up in a hollowed-out tree in the middle of a thunderstorm? What kind of nobleman travelled alone without an escort, save for a talking crow named Kanzaburo? And what in the world was a Kakushi?
The questions piled up, pressing against the back of your teeth. The silence in the carriage stretched on, filled only by the clopping of horse hooves and the rattle of wooden wheels. You were terrified to pry. You owed him your life, and demanding answers felt ungrateful. But as you watched the trees blur past the window, carrying you closer and closer to the gilded cage of the Yoshiwara, you realised you had a right to know who was walking into that den of wolves with you.
You took a steadying breath, your fingers knotting into the fabric of your sack.
"Tomioka-san," you murmured, your voice barely carrying over the noise of the road.
He didn't turn his head. His blue eyes remained fixed on the passing scenery, but he gave a faint, almost imperceptible hum to indicate he was listening.
"I want to ask you something," you started, your heart thumping against your ribs. "Actually, I want to ask you several things. If you don't mind."
Silence. You waited for him to shut you down, to tell you it was none of your business. But the rejection never came.
"Ask," he said simply, still looking out the window.
You swallowed hard, gathering your courage. "Who are you? Truly? I saw what you did to those men in the street. You moved faster than the eye could follow. And you have a talking bird. You mentioned a Water Estate, and you commanded the bird to find a Kakushi. How can you afford to pay off my debts? Are you a samurai? A nobleman?"
You rushed the words out, terrified you would lose your nerve if you stopped. When you finally finished your rapid-fire interrogation, the carriage fell silent.
Giyu didn't move a muscle. He just kept staring indifferently out the window. Seconds passed. Then a full minute. The bouncing of the carriage felt ten times louder now. You felt a hot flush of embarrassment climb up your neck. You overstepped. You annoyed him. You mentally kicked yourself for ruining the peaceful atmosphere.
But Giyu wasn't ignoring you. His mind was simply churning through the barrage of questions, carefully sorting out what he could reveal and what he needed to withhold. The Demon Slayer Corps was an unofficial, unrecognised organisation. The government didn't officially sanction their activities. More importantly, he didn't want to overwhelm you. You had just escaped a traumatic life of servitude, survived a desperate leap off a roof, and were currently travelling back to face your abusers. Dropping the horrifying reality of flesh-eating monsters onto your shoulders felt cruel. He needed to be vague.
Finally, he turned his head, pulling his gaze away from the glass. He looked directly at you.
"I'm not a nobleman," Giyu stated. "I don't hold any royal titles, and I'm not a samurai. I work for an organisation. We aren't recognised by the government, but our work is necessary."
You leaned forward slightly, hanging onto every word. "What kind of work?"
Giyu paused, his jaw tightening for a fraction of a second. "We hunt."
"Hunt what?" you asked, your brow furrowing in confusion. "Bounties? Criminals?"
"Demons," Giyu answered flatly.
The word hung in the air between you. You blinked, trying to process the syllables. Demons. Oni. The monsters from the storybooks your mother used to whisper about when you were a child. Creatures with horns and fangs that lurked in the dark, stealing misbehaving children from their beds. They were myths, tales designed to keep villagers from wandering into the woods at night.
"Demons aren't real," you said, though your voice lacked any real conviction. You remembered the terrifying aura he emitted in the street. You remembered the speed. If men like him existed, maybe the monsters did too.
"They are real," Giyu replied, his tone leaving no room for debate. "They consume humans to survive. My organisation exists to eradicate them. I'm a Hashira. It is a title given to the highest-ranking swordsmen in our ranks. Because of that rank, I am provided with a large salary and an estate to house myself and my staff."
You stared at him, the pieces slowly sliding into place. The strange uniform. The sword. The talking crow acting as a messenger. It all made a bizarre kind of sense.
"And the Kakushi? Those are your… staff?" you asked.
"They are the cleanup brigade," Giyu explained, his gaze unwavering. "They handle logistics, medical transport, and finances. They support the swordsmen. The bird, Kanzaburo, is my Kasugai crow. Every slayer is assigned one for communication."
You slumped back against the cushioned bench, your mind spinning. He hunted monsters. Literal, flesh-eating monsters. The revelation was terrifying, painting the world in a much darker, much more dangerous light than you ever realised. But as you looked at the man sitting across from you, the fear didn't attach itself to him. It fit him perfectly. His quiet intensity, his lethal elegance, his awkward attempts at comfort. He was a man who lived his entire life in the shadows, fighting horrors no one else believed in.
"That's why you were in the tree," you murmured. "You were returning from a hunt."
Giyu gave a curt nod. "I killed a demon three towns over. The storm forced me to take shelter."
You looked down at your hands, feeling a sudden, overwhelming wave of awe. He spent his nights fighting literal nightmares to protect oblivious civilians, and yet he still found the time to protect a runaway Oiran from human monsters.
"I understand," you said softly, looking back up at him. "Thank you for telling me, Tomioka-san."
Giyu didn't say anything else. He just gave another small nod and turned his attention back to the window; the conversation officially concluded.
The carriage rolled on, the swaying lulling you into a strange sense of comfort. Knowing the truth about him didn't scare you away. It only amplified the intense gratitude and fascination you felt toward him. You found yourself staring again, watching the sunlight highlight the sharp angles of his profile. He was incredibly handsome, in a way that the men of the district could never hope to replicate.
You were so lost in your admiration that you were caught off guard by the pothole in the road until it was too late.
The carriage wheel slammed into the deep rut with a jarring crack. The wooden cabin lurched sharply to the side. You shrieked as the sudden momentum threw you completely off the cushioned bench. You launched forward, your hands flying out to catch yourself.
You collided directly with Giyu.
He didn't flinch. His reflexes kicked in instantly as his arms shot out, catching you mid-air before you could smash your face against the wooden wall of the carriage. His large hands gripped your upper arms firmly, absorbing the shock of your fall with effortless strength.
You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat. You were suddenly right in his face. Your knees were bracketed between his, and your hands were planted squarely on his chest. You could feel the solid muscle beneath the dark fabric of his uniform. The scent of him washed over you, a clean, crisp mix of rain, pine needles, and a faint hint of steel.
His face was mere inches from yours. You could see the individual lashes framing his striking blue eyes. You could see the faint widening of his irises as he looked down at you. Time seemed to freeze in the swaying carriage. The air between you crackled with an electric tension.
A burning heat exploded across your cheeks, travelling rapidly down your neck. You had never been this close to a man without feeling a paralysing wave of disgust and fear. But with Giyu, you didn't feel afraid. You felt a fluttering panic that had absolutely nothing to do with survival.
"I-I'm so sorry!" you stammered, your voice pitching up an octave.
You scrambled backwards frantically, pushing off his chest and tumbling back onto your own bench. You practically plastered yourself against the far wall of the cab, your face burning like a lit lantern. You couldn't meet his eyes. You stared at the wooden floorboards, wishing the carriage would hit another pothole and swallow you whole.
"Are you injured?" Giyu asked, his voice rougher than usual, though his face remained stoic.
"No! No, I'm fine. Just lost my balance. I apologise," you babbled, waving your hands frantically in front of you.
You reached down to grab your canvas sack, which had tumbled onto the floor during the commotion. As you yanked it upward by the strap, the loose drawstring gave way.
A heavy sheet of pressed paper slid out of the bag. It fluttered in the air for a second before landing face-up directly on the floorboards, right between Giyu's feet.
You froze. All the blood drained from your face, leaving you cold and horrified.
It was the painting. The portrait you had made of his face back at the inn.
Giyu leaned forward smoothly. He reached down and picked up the paper before you could even twitch a muscle to stop him. He held it up, his gaze dropping to the canvas.
You stopped breathing. You were mortified. The blush that had just begun to recede from your cheeks returned with a vengeance, burning hotter than before. What kind of strange, obsessed woman paints a portrait of a man she met less than twenty-four hours ago? He was going to think you were insane. He was going to think you were forming some kind of twisted, unnatural attachment to him.
You watched in agony as Giyu stared at the paper. His eyes widened a fraction of an inch. His thumb brushed lightly over the edge of the paper, taking in the stark black ink lines and the vibrant, sapphire blue of the crushed flower petals used for his eyes.
He didn't say a word. He just kept staring at it, his expression unreadable.
"I can explain!" you blurted out, the words tumbling from your mouth in a frantic rush. "Please don't think I'm strange! I just wanted a memento! You saved my life, and I wanted to remember your face before the stress of the escape blurred my memory. It was just a practice sketch! I didn't mean to be creepy! I'm so sorry, I'll throw it away right now!"
You reached your hand out, desperate to snatch the damning evidence from his grasp and toss it straight out the carriage window. You wanted to die. You honestly wished the Yoshiwara thugs had caught you on the roof, because the humiliation of this moment was far worse than any beating.
Giyu didn't hand it over. He pulled the paper slightly out of your reach, keeping his eyes fixed on the portrait.
He looked from the paper, up to your burning, frantic face, and then back to the paper.
"You painted this?" Giyu asked. His voice was quiet, lacking any of the judgment or disgust you expected.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding miserably. "Yes. I painted it at the inn."
The carriage rattled over the dirt road, the clopping of the horses filling the excruciating silence. Giyu continued to study the portrait. It wasn't a crude sketch. It was a masterpiece of observation. You had captured the exact slope of his jaw, the unruly mess of his hair, and the heavy, solemn weight he carried in his eyes. The crushed blue petals gave the portrait a vibrant, striking life that ink alone could never achieve.
No one had ever painted him before. No one had ever looked at him long enough, or cared enough, to capture his likeness on paper. He was the Water Hashira. People looked to him for protection, for violence, for salvation. They didn't look at him as a subject of beauty or gratitude. They didn't mash flowers just to get the colour of his eyes right.
He looked back up at you. You were still pressed against the carriage wall, looking like a cornered animal awaiting execution.
"You're talented," Giyu said.
You blinked, the frantic apologies dying instantly on your tongue. "What?"
"You're very talented," Giyu repeated, holding the portrait carefully by the edges to ensure he didn't smudge the ink. "You captured the details accurately. You did a good job. No one has ever painted me before."
The sincerity in his voice hit you like a bucket of ice water. Your mortification evaporated, replaced by a sudden, dizzying wave of relief. He wasn't angry. He didn't think you were a strange, obsessive stalker. He was actually complimenting your work.
"You really think so?" you asked, your voice small and hesitant. "You aren't annoyed?"
Giyu shook his head slowly. "I'm not annoyed."
He didn't hand the portrait back to you. Instead, he carefully rolled the thick paper into a neat cylinder and tucked it securely into the inside pocket of his dark uniform jacket, placing it right next to his heart.
"Keep your bag tied tightly," he advised, settling back against his bench and turning his attention toward the window once more.
You sat there, completely stunned, your hands resting in your lap. A bright smile slowly spread across your face. He liked it. The stoic demon slayer actually liked your painting. You felt a warm flutter of pride bloom in your chest, settling the remaining nerves in your stomach.
On the opposite side of the carriage, Giyu stared blankly at the passing trees, but he wasn't registering a single piece of the scenery.
Internally, Giyu was experiencing a catastrophic system failure.
His heart was slamming against his ribs erratically. His palms felt slightly damp. A strange warmth was radiating from his chest, spreading upward to heat the tips of his ears. His stomach felt as though a flock of Kanzaburos were flapping around inside it.
He felt giddy. It was a horrifying, alien sensation.
He pressed his arm tighter against his side, feeling the stiff roll of paper resting in his inner pocket. You painted him. You wanted to remember him. The thought made him feel incredibly, inexplicably special. He had spent his entire life believing he was a placeholder, a fake Hashira who stood in the spot Sabito should have occupied. He believed he was forgettable, unworthy of lasting memory.
But you didn't think so. You looked at him and saw something worth preserving on canvas.
Giyu shifted uncomfortably on the bench, his brow furrowing into a tight frown. He raised his hand, pressing the back of his knuckles against his own forehead. His skin felt warm. His breathing was slightly shallow, and his pulse was entirely unregulated.
He was definitely catching a cold.
That was the only logical explanation. He had spent the previous night sitting in a freezing rainstorm in a damp tree hollow. The harsh weather must have finally caught up with him. He was developing a fever. The accelerated heart rate, the flushed skin, the bizarre, fuzzy sensation clouding his usually sharp mind, these were all textbook symptoms of a severe illness. He would need to request a medical examination from Shinobu the second he returned to the Butterfly Mansion. She would likely mock him for his weak immune system, but it was necessary.
He couldn't afford to be sick right now. He needed his strength to deal with the Yoshiwara madam and the merchant. He took a slow, deep breath, utilising a basic breathing technique to try to regulate his erratic heart rate. It didn't work. The second he caught a faint whiff of your scent from across the cab, his pulse spiked all over again.
Yes. A terrible, aggressive fever. He was sure of it.
━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━
The carriage rattled on, eating up the miles between the quiet village and the sprawling, neon-lit nightmare of the entertainment district. The afternoon sun began its slow descent, casting long, golden shadows across the dirt road. Inside the cab, the tense atmosphere from earlier had vanished, replaced by a strange, quiet domesticity.
You spent the next few hours working on a new sketch, using a spare sheet of paper and your block of ink. You drew the passing mountains, the gnarled branches of the roadside pines, and occasionally, you sketched the outline of the Kasugai crow you imagined flying high above you. You felt lighter than you had in years. The pouch of coins was secure, your mother's hairpin was safe, and the man sitting across from you had promised to sever your chains forever.
Giyu maintained his silent vigil by the window, his posture rigid as he fought a losing battle against the unfamiliar, warm flutter in his chest. He focused on the mission ahead. The Yoshiwara was a fortress of corruption. Walking through those gates with a woman who had just committed ashinuke was going to draw every hostile eye in the district. He needed to be sharp. He needed to be ready for an ambush.
But as the sky outside began to darken, bleeding from vibrant orange into a deep, bruised purple, he found his gaze drifting away from the window and back to you.
You were focused on your paper, the tip of your tongue peeking out from the corner of your mouth as you concentrated on a difficult brush stroke. The jagged ends of your hair framed your face perfectly. He watched the way your hand moved, graceful and assured, a stark contrast to the terrified, trembling girl he had pinned against a tree the night before.
He felt another violent thump in his chest. He coughed softly into his fist, turning his head away quickly. Definitely a fever.
"Are you alright, Tomioka-san?" you asked, looking up from your sketch at the sound of his cough. "You look a bit flushed."
"I'm fine," Giyu lied smoothly, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the dark road ahead. "Just dust from the road."
You didn't push the issue, smiling softly before returning to your drawing.
An hour later, the carriage began to slow down. The quiet, natural sounds of the countryside were abruptly swallowed by a rising, chaotic hum. It was a distinct, oppressive noise, a blend of shouting merchants, ringing bells, and the thrum of thousands of footsteps.
You looked out the window, and the smile vanished from your face instantly.
The sky was dark now, but the horizon was illuminated by an unnatural glow. Towering black walls loomed in the distance, cutting a sharp silhouette against the night sky. Beyond the walls, thousands of red paper lanterns hung suspended in the air, casting a bloody, crimson light over the sprawling complex. The massive wooden gates of the Yoshiwara stood open like the maw of a starving beast, swallowing the endless stream of patrons seeking pleasure in the dark.
The carriage rolled to a halt near the outskirts of the main thoroughfare. The driver tapped on the wooden partition. "This is as far as I go! I'm not taking my horses into that mess!"
Giyu stood up. The confusing, fuzzy warmth that had plagued him for the last few hours vanished entirely, instantly replaced by the lethal focus of the Water Hashira. He stepped out of the carriage, his sandals hitting the pavement with a thud. He paid the driver generously, ignoring the man's nervous babbling.
He turned back to the carriage and offered his hand.
You stared out the door at the glowing red gates. The smell of cheap incense and stale sake drifted on the night breeze, hitting your senses. Your lungs seized, and your hands began to tremble violently. You couldn't do it. The fear was too ingrained in your bones.
"I can't," you whispered, your voice cracking. "Tomioka-san, I can't walk back in there."
Giyu didn't pull his hand away. He stepped closer to the carriage door, blocking your view of the massive gates with his broad shoulders.
"Look at me," Giyu commanded softly.
You pulled your terrified gaze away from the crimson lights and looked into his blue eyes.
"You aren't the same girl who ran away," Giyu said. "You aren't an Oiran anymore. You aren't their property. You're walking in there to watch them tear up your contract. And I'm right beside you."
He reached slightly further into the cab, keeping his palm open and waiting.
"I won't let them touch you," he promised.
You took a shuddering breath. You gripped the strap of your canvas sack tightly in your left hand. With your right hand, you reached out and placed your trembling fingers into his palm. He closed his grip around yours, the firm pressure sending a wave of reassurance up your arm.
You stepped out of the carriage. The oppressive atmosphere of the Yoshiwara immediately tried to crush you, but Giyu didn't let go of your hand. He kept you close to his side as the carriage driver cracked his whip and rolled away into the dark, leaving the two of you standing before the towering black gates.
"My Kakushi should be waiting near the eastern entrance," Giyu stated, his eyes scanning the chaotic crowds swarming the streets. "We'll retrieve the funds, and then we'll find your madam."
You nodded, forcing your chin up. You were terrified, but as you looked at the deadly sword resting on his hip and felt the unyielding strength in his hand, you knew the monsters inside those walls had finally met their match.
To Be Continued...
——— ✦ ———
Thank you for reading.♡
✦ Check out my Patreon for more content. I'm four chapters ahead on my fics there.
✦ THE MAIN UNIVERSE ✦ Love my writing? Check out my Gothic Romantasy novel — Liquid Sunlight.
↳ Masterlist | Table of Contents | Join my Taglist
Tagging: @ynackerman9499 @roma-sudrabin @eravariety @matchadoinsblog @dap11
