#iguro x reader

It takes a lot for Giyu Tomioka to get angry. It takes even more so to make him do something about it. Giyu internalizes a lot of things. Mainly his feelings for you. Those are shoved deep within the parts of him that can never bubble up onto the surface. And it’s damn frustrating. It’s even more frustrating that you're the complete opposite to him. Where he’s quiet and reserved, you are jubilant and attentive. You love to talk to people, to get to know someone and listen to their story. You like making friends and forming connections. You like being a hashira and having dinner with the rest of the hashira’s. You like being in the light. Giyu likes being in the dark. So why the hell do you affect him so damn much. Why the hell can’t he stop thinking about you. Why the hell does he crave that attentiveness and feel the twistedness of jealousy every time you smile that bright smile of yours at someone that isn’t him. It was quite simple. Something Giyu didn’t want to admit until it was forced to light. Because you kept handing out your time and smiles and conversation to people unworthy of it. 

So as Giyu sat at his booth in the corner, listening to you charm the entire restaurant he was almost content with letting those feelings stay dormant. He felt like telling you these feelings would drag you out of the light into the depths with him. Who would want someone so gloomy dragging you down? He reached for his drink. These feelings, like nettles in his chest.

“Then what did you do?” An interested voice asked, leaning close to you. Giyu watched you smirk, you loved a story. 

“The demon was crying out for its mother by the time I was through with it.” You sibilated and the crowd erupted in laughter and cheers. The interested voice leaned in and Giyu finally saw the face. It was a man, eyes lustful and moony. Giyu had seen you deal with quite a few people. Angry and sad and happy and interested. But never interested in the way this man was interested. The man’s hand slid along the back of your chair as his front barely pressed against you. 

“Another round for the beautiful hashira.” The man beamed. Giyu stared for a moment, his heart bursting like pricks from a thorn bush. You happily accepted the drink and even turned towards the man, offering up to cheers with him. The man clinked his glass against yours and Giyu watched you both take drinks, eyes linked with one another's. The man placed his drink on the bar and leaned towards you, lips mere inches from your ear as he whispered something. You laughed and pulled back. Giyu couldn’t hear what you said but then you stood from your seat and followed the man out of the bar. Giyu felt his whole body tense when the door felt closed and that calming and bright presence you usually brought to every place ceased to exist. He should stay seated. He was wanting his feelings to die off and if he followed you right now he’d only make things worse for himself. He wanted you to be happy. You needed someone that could match your light. But was that some slimy guy from some seedy bar? Giyu was out the door in seconds, the cold air stinging his cheeks as the door slammed behind him. 

“Mmm… right there.” He heard your voice off to the right and turned sharply towards it. “A bit higher.” Giyu rushed towards the side of the bar and rounded the corner. “Hold tight.” 

“Y/n!” He called out and stopped dead in his tracks when he finally found you. You turned, the dim light of the lamp post illuminating the scene. The man was holding your sword, you were just behind him, adjusting his position. 

“Tomioka? Everything alright?” You asked innocently. Giyu scowled as the man straightened, a smirk on his face. Giyu barely nodded his head. “You sure?”

“Head back inside.” Giyu’s eyes locked on the man, his voice even and eyes sharp. The man swallowed, handing back your sword.

“It’s fine. He was just curious about sword technique.”

“I’m sure he was.” Giyu didn’t take his eyes off the man until he was scurrying out of his eyeline. You slide your sword back into the hilt and step closer to Giyu.

“Did we get a mission?” You asked, eyes searching his face. His eyes met yours. 

“Did something happen? Between you two?” 

“Between who?” You asked, obviously not understanding his meaning. Giyu stepped closer. 

“You and that man.”

“Hm? No.” You shook your head, smiling amused. “Are you sure everythings alright?”

“No. Nothings alright. Do you know how dangerous it is to leave with some stranger in the middle of the night?” Giyu asked, taking another step closer. You didn’t shy away because arguing with Giyu was something you enjoyed because you knew the moment you finally pushed him over the edge he might just reveal what was deep within. Something you were craving just as much as him. 

“I was just having a bit of fun. No harm done.” You baited and smirked. Giyu’s eyes sharpened. 

“He could’ve tried something with you.”

“No harm in trying.” You shrugged and walked [ast him. Giyu’s hand shot out. 

“Are you… trying to make me mad?” He asked, eyes locked on yours. Yes. Yes you were. 

“Like I said. No harm in trying.” You gave him a smile. Come on, Giyu… His fingers tightened around your wrist for a couple seconds before he loosened enough for your arm to fall out of his grip. You knew what he’d say next. That he was heading in for the night. You had told yourself before tonight that this was the last night you’d try for his affections. There’s only so much you could do. It’s not something you could force. It was quiet. You cleared your throat. “Goodnight then, Giyu.” More like goodbye. You brushed past him, a step away from the corner when his cold hand grabbed you again. Hope sparked in your chest.

“Don’t go back.”

“Where do you want me then?” You asked and that hope tightened in your chest.

“Nowhere near that idiot.” He said and you wondered if that’s all he’d do. Just hold your wrist and hope you'll get it. You got it just fine, you just wanted him to show some initiative. 

“He seemed fine enough.” You said and Giyu shook his head quite resolutely. “He was interested in me, in learning how to hold a sword, he was-“ Giyu pulled your wrist and you along with it, his free hand sliding against your face, silencing your words by pressing his lips to yours. 

“Enough.” He mumbled against your lips. “I get it.”

~

“You want some?” You offered, you were covered in baking powder, a bit on your nose and cheeks and all over the front of your smock. Obanai sat across the kitchen near the window, pouting as he usually did. You were cooking for the trainees on this rainy day and one particular trainee had followed you into the kitchen under the guise of learning how to cook a scone. On days where you spent most of your time baking Obanai would sit at the table just to be close to you but not up in your space. This trainee was up in your space. 

“Yeah!” He answered as you spooned some of the filling off the plate and held out the spoon. Obanai had been watching pretty closely this entire time. Those sharp snake eyes making sure no funny business would happen. And that’s when it happened. Instead of taking the spoon and feeding himself, the trainee leaned towards you and let you feed him. 

Obanai slammed his book shut. You didn’t jump but the trainee did. He jumped so far back his back slammed into the kitchen island. 

“You want some too?” You asked innocently towards your fuming partner. Obanai pushed off the table and nodded his head as he forced his way past the trainee, holding back the temptation of choking him out. He watched as your eyebrows raised in surprise, it was clear you didn’t expect him to take you up on it because time and time again he’d just sit across the room from you and not say much of anything. He paused just before getting to you and turned back to glare at the trainee. 

“Make yourself sparse.” He demanded with a calm fury. The trainee tripped over himself to get out of the kitchen. You laughed slightly, watching him go. 

“He’s a nice kid, Iguro.” 

“He’s not a kid.” Obanai rebounded as he watched you grab a different spoon and scoop some filling out for him to try. You give him the option of taking the spoon but he reaches up, gently pulling off the wrapping around his mouth. Your breath hitches as his eyes never leave yours. You're sure he’s looking for some kind of disgust, some kind of uncomfortableness but you show none of it as you guide the spoon to his mouth. The kitchen grows three sizes smaller as his hand reaches up and grasps your wrist, spoon a few inches from his mouth. You swallow as he steps into your space. “I'll have some later.” He says and leans to press a kiss to your lips. You're just about too stunned to do anything when he pulls away, guides your hand back towards his mouth and tastes the filling on the spoon. “Good. Sweet.” He notes and you stare unblinking, lips parted as he fastens his mouth coverings back on. “Next time no trainees in the kitchen with you.” He says and meets your eyes. You blink finally, clearing your throat. 

“Uh huh, sure thing.”

~

“You need help with that?” A trainee asked to your right, you turned and smiled, nodding your head as you handed off some of the practice swords. He fell in step with you as you waved down Mitsuri who had been finishing up her last session for the night. She waved back, eyes darting to the man beside you before an unsure smile fit to her lips. “Miss?” The trainee asked as you turned back towards him. 

“Yes?” You asked. 

“You’re a hard worker.” He smiles and you purse your lips, smiling gratefully. 

“That’s kind of you to say.” 

“A lot of the other Hashira are scary but not you. You have really given me hope to keep going.” He says and the smile on your lips gets bigger. 

“So you’re feeling better about the training?” You ask as the training behind you two ends, the trainees all walking out of Mitsuri’s lesson groaning from exertion. 

“A lot better.” He affirms and you reach out, gently squeezing his arm. 

“I’m happy to hear that.”

“Miss… I have to ask…” 

“What’re you happy to hear?” Mitsuri chirps from a few steps behind. You turn, half smiling at her.

“Kanroji, I was just talking with,” You turn but the place where the trainee was just standing was completely vacant. You blinked a few times, looking all around the training yard until you spotted him running full force away. “Hmm. He’s actually gotten faster.” You laugh, turning back to Mitsuri. She gives you an almost tense smile. 

“Can I carry those for you?” She asks and before you can answer she’s gently grabbing the few practice swords out of your hands. 

“Oh… thanks.”

“I’ll help you clean up.” She smiles brightly, heading towards the field. 

“Kanroji, aren’t you tired? I don’t wanna trouble you-”

“It’s no trouble.” She calls over her shoulder as you jog to catch up with her. 

“You sure?” You ask as you fall instep with her. She nods her head resolutely. There wasn’t much to clean up, just a few broken practice swords. 

“Hungry?” Mitsuri asks as the sun sets in the distance. You straighten up, stretching a bit.

“Starving. But I’m cooking this time.” You say as Mitsuri shakes her head slightly.

“I like cooking for you.”

“I’m sure you do. But I’ve had an easy day and you haven’t.” You say, taking off and jogging towards the main house. Mitsuri calls after you, laughing as you beat her inside. She follows you into the kitchen. “Miss Kanroji, take a seat already.” You laugh over your shoulder as Mitsuri scoffs.

“Let’s cook together.”

“You’re relentless.” You laugh as Mitsuri just gives you a smile. You work together on dinner for a bit, you chop up vegetables and Mitsuri frying them up. You set up the table as Mitsuri prepares the tea. 

“No sake?”

“I have an early morning. Would you like some?”

“Mhm.” You shake your head, you weren’t going to drink alone. Mitsuri sat beside you at the table as you two tore into your food. One thing you had in common was your appetites. 

“Y/n?” Mitsuri asked in between bites.

“Hm?” You hummed, taking a sip of your tea.

“That trainee you were talking to… Is he always quite friendly?” Mitsuri asks. You hike up a brow and meet her eyes. You thought about it for a moment. 

“He… I guess so?” You say, unsure of what she meant. 

“He helps you clean up a lot?”

“Yes… yeah he sticks around after training.” You answer nonchalantly, grabbing at your chopsticks. “I’m quite proud of him. He’s come a long way.” You say, smiling a bit. When Mitsuri doesn’t say anything you look over at her. With her chopsticks she’s poking around at her food. You immediately know something is wrong. “What is it? Did I use too much seasoning?” You ask as she immediately perks up just to shake her head. 

“No no… darling it’s perfect.” She answers and you both have your own similar reactions to the nickname. Furious blushes. Mitsuri clears her throat. “I meant…” She staggers off, not finding the right words. You decide to show her some mercy.

“What is it then? You don’t play around with food. Is that trainee bugging you?”

“Bugging me?” She echoes, shaking her head but something was bugging her. You set down your own chopsticks and turn fully towards her. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“You. You mostly.” She relents. You suck in a breath. 

“Me?”

“Yes you!” She affirms, blushing red like a sunburn.

“In what way..?” You ask and Mitsuri pouts. 

“In a lot of ways!” She blushes even more, covering her face with her hands. You find yourself blushing too, noticing now that your knees were barely touching under the table. You blushed again at that too. Mitsuri huffed into her hands. “I don’t like being… I don’t like that he…” She can’t seem to finish her thoughts, her voice muffled into her hands. You reach over, pulling her hands away from her face. You were going to say something but the moment your eyes met your mind went blank for a second. “I… I’m jealous.” She admits. You exhaled a breath held in your chest. 

“That… that’s okay.” You say, swallowing, you were still holding her by her wrists. “But… you have nothing to… to be jealous about.” You say. 

“I don’t?” She asks and you shake your head, letting her go. Because did you eat dinner with that trainee every night? No. Did you look forward to talking and laughing and spending time with that trainee? No. This was all something reserved for Mitsuri. And friendship didn’t even come close to covering what was brewing between you and the love hashira. 

“Absolutely not.” You affirmed and hand sliding just under her jaw. Her eyes got wide a bit and for a second you have this crippling fear that you misread the moment but then her face lights up and her lips curl into a soft smile. She doesn’t wait for you to make the first move, she makes it herself. She reaches across the table and tugs you to her lips. Warm and waiting.

~

“Here you are, Miss.” the bartender greets, placing your drink in front of you. You give him a tired smile and take it. “It’s on us.” 

“I have money.” You say and the man shakes his head. 

“No good here. You and that man saved our town. We’re grateful.” The man smiles as you give a half hearted smile. You were exhausted, you and Tengen had just fought a couple tough demons and you were surprised you could even sit up in this chair right now. Tengen was outside, basking in the glory of the townspeople fawning over him but you weren’t one for the spotlight so you slinked into the closest bar and hid out the best you could. The bartender stayed close, cleaning off the bar and shooting looks at you. “Did you… have you worked as a slayer for long?” He asked nervously. You took a long sip and smiled. 

“I’m a Hashira, which means I’m more important and always exhausted.” 

“A Hashira, huh?” The man curiously asks. You nod your head. “That must mean you’re mighty strong?” You can hear the smirk in the man’s voice, you look up, expecting mockery but he doesn’t look amused, he looks impressed. 

“I’m strong enough.” You answer wearily and he smiles, eyes trailing across your body before nodding his head, as if to affirm to himself you looked strong. You blow out a laugh and take another drink. 

“I own this bar, and the restaurant across the street.”

“Ah?”

“Can I treat you to dinner?” The man asks, you meet his eyes and there’s no doubt in your mind he’s flirting. You wonder how long it’ll last before…

“Can you treat us both! I’m starving.” Tengen slides into the seat next to you, the smile in his face practically glowing from the crowd of praise he’d been receiving outside. The bartender seizes up a bit and clears his throat. 

“O-of course, sir. Anything for the saviors of our town.” He says quickly and Tengen’s smile grows. He gently nudges your arm. 

“How hospitable.” You ignore him. 

“Can I have another?” You ask, pulling out some money but the bartender shakes his head and pours you another without taking your money. He also pours one for Tengen.

“Get to know my partner any better?” Tengen asks the bartender who blushes instantly. 

“Uh— we were just—.”

“She’s a locked door this one.” Tengen smirks, looking over at you. You look at your drink. “I don’t fault you for trying.”

“Trying?” The bartender echoes. 

“To ask her out. She’s something, I get it.” Tengen says unabashedly. You huff, glaring over at him as the bartender fumbles over his words. 

“Leave him be.” You say and Tengen relishes in your attention.

“You like him?” He asks with a smirk. You down the rest of your drink, tossing money on the bar before hopping out of your seat and heading towards the exit. You shoulder out of the door as the cold hits your cheeks. You walk in the direction of the inn you and Tengen were staying at for the night knowing you had about five seconds alone before he was at your side again. “He’s not your type is he?” He asks and you’re so used to him popping up beside you that it doesn’t even faze you much anymore. 

“None of your business.”

“He can’t be.” Tengen says to himself, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. You don’t fight it, just pull it close. “I think you like someone taller than that.” 

“I don’t wanna talk about this.” You say but he’s not listening. 

“Or does height not bother you? You don’t seem very picky.” He looks down at you, smirks when he sees he’s gotten under your skin. So you decide if he’s going to pester you you could dish it right back. 

“I don’t care about height.” You say as he towers over you. “He did have nice eyes.” You say and watch in real time Tengen’s face drops. He was wanting to annoy you but you had turned it around on him and he wasn’t expecting that. “And good hair. And a hard worker.”

“He seemed meek.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrug. “I’m not the talkative kind myself.”

“You need someone that challenges you. Ever heard of opposites attract?”

“Hmm.” You hum and shrug your shoulders. “He gave me free drinks. And offered dinner.” 

“I offer you dinner all the time.” Tengen argues and you have to hold back the laugh as you stop walking. 

“I should go take him up on his offer.” You turn back towards the bar when suddenly Tengen catches your arm. You pause, looking back at him. 

“You’re joking.”

“I could settle down here. It’s quiet and-“ Tengen pushes you back against the concrete wall, hand behind your head so you don’t bump it. “I’m joking, Ten-“ he smashes his lips against yours, your eyes widened in disbelief. But the kiss is warm and consuming and all jokes and frustrations were forgotten.

“Done joking?” He asked against your mouth. You cleared your throat, cheeks red. 

“Uh huh.”

~

You sat back in your train seat, arms crossed. Rengoku sat across from you, tearing through his second bento box. You watched him, took a sip of your drink, then sat back again. He didn’t look up for quite a bit. 

“Do you want some?” He asked and you just shook your head. You had absolutely no appetite after your disastrous first mission with this eccentric Hashira. Your arm was in a cast, bandages on your cheek and stomach from being tossed about by a demon. You were almost food to be digested if Rengoku hadn’t swooped in to save you. “You should eat.” He pushed a box across the train table. You stared at it for a long moment so he reached over and opened it for you. Your stomach turned and you made a face. 

“I’m not hungry.”

“Sure you are. You worked hard today.” He says and you look up at him, he’s all but beaming at you. You pout slightly. 

“I almost died… like ten times.” 

“But you didn’t.” He counters, smiling. You furrow your brows as he motions to your food. “You’ll feel better.” Reluctantly you reach out and pick at your food, eating just a bit to appease him. But once you started to get a bit more in your stomach you did feel better and you ended up eating the whole box. He slides another across the table and you don’t fight him on it this time. He watches you eat with a curious expression on his face. You look up at him.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” He says, a fondness in his eyes as you shrug and continue eating.

“I guess I should thank you.” You say. 

“I’ll share my food with you anytime.”

“I meant saving me from the demon. I was useless out there.”

“You most certainly were not.” He says matter of factly and waits until you're looking at him to continue. “Most slayers don’t make it past their first missions. Not to mention you held it off successfully until back up arrived.”

“But I had to be saved.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.” He admonished you and you feel slightly embarrassed. You look down at your food. He was right. It was your very first mission and you were alive, eating food on the train back to the butterfly mansion. You were alive. That’s what mattered. When the train docked you and Rengoku stood as a man bumped into you. Rengoku’s hand slid around your back as you stumbled back into his arms. He steadied you. 

“Oh… I’m very sorry Miss.” The man who bumped into you apologized, he’d lost his briefcase to the ground and had bent to retrieve it. When he stood back up his eyes met yours. 

“It’s alright.” You gave a polite smile as patrons walked around you towards the exit. 

“Oh… my you-- your that pretty slayer from the town over right?” He asked as you blushed deeply. You blinked, motioning to yourself.

“Me?” You asked as the man smiled brightly. 

“It is you. I wouldn’t forget a face like that.” He smirks as you bite your lip to keep from smiling in embarrassment. “Can I help you with your bags?” He asks, you part your lips to answer but Rengoku beats you to the punch. 

“She’s alright, I’ve got them for her, young man.” Rengoku says, stepping between you and the man, yours and his bags in one hand, his other hand gently guiding you towards the exit, hand softly on the small of your back. Once on the train platform the man clears his throat.

“Can I buy you dinner, Miss? As a thanks?”

“I just ate.” You answer and notice Rengoku’s hand still around you. You blush even deeper.

“Breakfast?” The man tries.

“I appreciate the offer but we’re catching the next train.” You say. The man sighs, running a hand through his hair. His eyes dance along your body and you consciously step closer to Rengoku.  

“Well… how about a tour of town?”

“How about you get going?” Rengoku answers for you, his face still cordial, though the tone of his voice was definitely stern, something you hadn’t seen unless he was fighting demons. The man looks Rengoku over and you wonder for a moment if he’ll try something, it was almost laughable. But he relents, giving a halfhearted wave before disappearing into the crowd. 

“He was persistent.” You huff as Rengoku looks you over. 

“You alright?” He asks as you nod your head, giving him a soft smile. 

“Thanks for the save… again.” You blush and he reaches for you, ruffling your hair a bit. “I can carry at least one back, Rengoku.” Rengoku simply shakes his head as he leads you towards the next train. 

~

Sanemi had been seething the moment you smiled. He leaned against the wooden fence, watching over your training session as you helped teach some of the newer slayers. When it comes to flirting and attraction most of it goes straight over your head. It was like your mind only had so much room and most of it was demon knowledge and the occasional sweet. Alot of slayers liked your training sessions and Sanemi was noticing more guys than girls. He noticed they were staying longer after the sessions and he definitely noticed the flirting. But you sure as hell didn’t. Nor did you care as you beat each of them with ease with your wooden practice swords. 

“Are you guys retaining anything?” You call out, taking one of the guys to the ground, pressing the dull end of the blade to his throat. He smiled up at you, almost lovingly and Sanemi almost vaulted over the fence and killed him himself. You helped the boy up and sent him back with the others as you had the next one step up. Slayer after slayer was easily dispersed by you. That was the small retribution Sanemi felt, seeing you dish out punishment. You dismissed them a while later and started cleaning up. Sanemi waited for you near the gate and listened as the group of boys walked by. 

“I think tomorrow I’ll ask, you think she’ll say yes?” One boy asked as the others gasped and laughed. 

“Absolutely not! Miss Y/N is way out of your league!”

“I could make her happy!”

“Could not!” The boy laughed as Sanemi felt his blood cool. 

“You’d have a better chance with a demon.” 

“I’m gonna ask her to dinner tomorrow.”

“You wanna keep your neck intact, I'd keep your questions to yourself.” Sanemi growled. The group of boys hadn’t noticed him and when they did they all went paper white.

“Oh-- w- we were just messing around, Mr. Shinazugawa.” 

“Just like you’ve been wasting her time during training sessions?” Sanemi asks and the fear on the boy's face was sweet justice. But Sanemi wasn’t done. “She’s busted her ass trying to keep you all from being eaten by demons but you're talking about pathetic crushes?”

“We-- we’re sorry sir.”

“Not good enough.” Sanemi crosses his arms. “I’ll be watching tomorrow and If I don’t see visible proof that you all are taking it seriously you’ll be going against me. And I won’t use some pathetic practice sword.” The boys run off to train as you jog over. 

“Everything okay?” You ask as Sanemi turns, nodding his head. 

“You're too easy on them.” He says as you give him a soft glare. 

“You’re too hard on them.” You say and Sanemi reaches for your hand, tugging you towards the main house. 

“You should hear the things they say about you.” 

“What do they say?” You ask as Sanemi shakes his head. 

“Let’s just say it’s a test of patience for me.” He says as you laugh slightly. 

“You’re just easily jealous.”

“Yeah. And?” Sanemi asks as he ushers you inside, something he’d been wanting to do all day. Inside, with no one around, no peering eyes, just him and you.

“They’re good boys.” You say as he makes a face at you before pulling you against him. 

“They're not.” He argues, hand on your cheek as he kisses you, pressing you into the wall. “Stop being so nice.”

“I’m-- not.” You argue back against his lips. 

“Are to.”

“Quit arguing with me while kissing.” You groan and he deepens the kiss, hands possessive.

~

Relaxing after a mission was something very sacred to you. In fact it might have been the sole reason that got you through each mission. Halfway through slicing a demon's head off you were already thinking about hot springs and all you could eat and warm blankets. This time was going to be even better because your sword, which you had broken on multiple occasions, was completely intact, which meant you didn’t have to visit your terrifying swordsmith, Haganezuka, at the beginning of your rest and relaxation trip. The few times you visited him you felt more likely you’d die by his hands than a damn demon. So this time as you were escorted to the village you were on cloud nine. You lounged in the hot spring, breathing in the night. You ate your fill at the village diner and drank yourself drunk at the tavern. One of the swordsmiths walked you back to the inn and offered to meet you for breakfast which you heartily accepted. The next morning you were ready to do it all over again as you headed to the diner. 

“Y/n?” A voice asked as you walked down the stony path. You turned, smiling.

“Good morning, Kanamori!” You greeted cheerfully as Kanamori cleared his throat. 

“Morning…Did… Did you just get here?”

“I got here yesterday morning.” You said as the man fell in step with you.

“And… you visited Mr. Haganezuka?” He asked as you smiled brightly. 

“Nope! No need. My sword is great. I’m actually on my way to have breakfast with one of the villagers, can’t recall his name but he had a sort of spooky looking mask.” You explained as Kanamori stopped walking. You stopped a second later and glanced back at him. “Everything alright?”

“That’s Mr. Haganezuka’s competition.” Kanamori explained as you nodded slowly. 

“Ah, really? Some drama there?”

“You could say.” Kanamori says as you smile slightly.

‘Well, fill me in while we walk.” You say beginning to walk again. Kanamori picks up his pace to walk in step with you. 

“You… Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. Mr. Haganezuka is… hm. Trying to think of the correct word... He’s… protective over his clients. Mainly the ones he… is… fond of?” You continue walking, the diner coming into view. 

“Fond?” You echo. “Are we talking about the same swordsmith?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Mr. Haganezuka is not fond of me. I can assure you that.” You laugh heartily, waving him off.

“Miss, I can assure that he is. I’ve known him for years.” Kanamori stresses. You reach for the door but he steps in your way. 

“I am hungry, Kanamori.”

“Miss Y/n, dining with his competition is… He… he will be very…”

“Why don’t you join us? It’s not a date or something, just breakfast.” You say as Kanamori shakes his head so hard his mask almost topples off.

“Like I said… he’s fond of you and I’m not-” You reach out, grabbing Kanamori by the shoulder and guiding him out of your way. 

“You are overthinking, alright?” You step inside the diner and glance around, the man who invited you wasn’t here yet so you took your seat and ordered some hot tea. You sipped on it, watching the trees sway outside of the window when suddenly someone sat in the seat across from you. You turned and met the mask you had been dreading to see. You sucked in a breath as Mr. Haganezuka stared across at you. “Mr. Haganezuka… good morning.” You blushed, clearing your throat.

“Good morning.” He answers tightly, ordering himself a tea. You trace the top of your glass anxiously.

“Beautiful day out today, hm?”

“Hm. Quite beautiful.” He agrees but his eyes stay firmly planted on you. 

“My swords fine.” You say but it comes out in a rush. 

“That’s good to hear.” He says as a tea is placed in front of him, he angles his mask up a bit and takes a sip. “And are you enjoying the village?”

“Uhm… yes. Yes sir.” You say, blushing slightly.

“Did some relaxing at the hot springs?” This small talk was killing you. You felt like any second he was going to explode. But you entertained it all the same.

“Yes. It was… rejuvenating.” You answer and he nods his head.

“Were you waiting on someone?” He asks and your heart skips a beat or two. 

“Hm? Waiting on-- no… no. Not waiting on anyone.” You say and wish you had heeded Kanamori’s warning. This man took his swordsmith position very seriously. It wasn’t like you were going to drop him for another swordsmith. It was kind of a long way to go to keep your business. Haganezuke nods his head. You two eat breakfast, a tense silence growing and once you were done Hanganezuka paid and when his back was turned you tried to make a break for the door when suddenly the man who walked you home came in and you ran smack into him. 

“Ah! Miss Y/n! Sorry I’m late for breakfast, I had a last minute client.” He greets as you look at him wide eyed. “What?” He asks then glances behind you. He goes white and you just know Haganezuke had to be erupting in flames by now. The competition hit the door in a sprint and you wish you could have laughed. You turn, a guilty grimace on your face. 

“That wasn’t-- I don’t-- I don’t know that freak.” You explained in a rush. 

“May I walk you back to your inn?” Hanganezuka asks as you nod your head in a rush. He opens the door for you and you fall in step with the taller man. In the distance you see a cloud of dust and the man you were supposed to meet halfway down the street.

“Mr. Haganezuka-”

“Hotaru.” He interrupts.

“Hm?”

“You can call me Hotaru.” He says as you nod your head quickly.

“Hotaru… You know… I value the swords you make me. No one caters to steel better than you.” You fumbled through your sentence blushing. “And--- I would… never as long as I live… settle for someone else’s sword making over yours.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right.” You affirm. “Especially like… someone who’s your competition that I didn’t know was your competition.” You ramble, looking up at the tall man.

“Yeah?” He humors you. 

“Yeah!” You decide foolishly to continue. “That guys… a hack. So I've heard.”

“You hear a lot about him?” He asks and you swallow, preparing to lie. 

“A bit. All bad things of course, Mr. Haga- er uh- Hotaru.” You say, the morning sun is blocked by the shaded trees that line your path. You and Hotaru were alone on this path, and shaded from any and all prying eyes. 

“And you share those sentiments?” He asks, stopping, you almost bump into him. 

“Of course I do.” You say hurriedly. Hotaru nods his head slowly, you feel like you're walking on eggshells, hoping you don’t set him off.

“You sure?” 

“Yes!” You affirm and watch in real time as Hotaru blows out a breath almost like relief. You furrow your brows slightly. 

From that moment on Rengoku notices every little thing about you. The way your smile gets a little wider when you’re surrounded by people you love, the way you’re nose scrunches up when you’re laughing and the way you’re so infuriatingly stubborn and determined even when things are spiraling out of control. Rengoku is certain this isn’t just him admiring the skill and personality of a fellow hashira. This was love, and he doesn’t run way, he embraces it. Because for Rengoku love is something to be treasure and celebrated with the same passion he had for everything else.

☆ Iguro Obanai ☆

For Obanai the realization doesn’t hit like lighting, instead it’s slow. Seeping and creeping into the very essence of his being.

You’re sitting across from him clumsily trying to stitch up the cut on your arm. A small hiss escapes from your throat most wouldn’t notice it but Iguro instantly stands up and walks over to you. “What’re you doing?” you asked as he took the thread and needle from your hand. Without another word he sat down next to you and ever so gently stitched up the cut. His touch is precise, deliberate and far more gentle than his usual gruff self.

“Thank you” you murmur and look up at him with that blinding smile and kind eyes and he’s frozen.

His throat tightens under the bandages and turns his face away to hide the ever so growing blush. Heat rises in his chest it terrifies him, and as much as he wants to run away he knows he can’t. Iguro Obanai hates attention, hates vulnerability but the thought of protecting you, being the person you feel safe around, being your rock it feels right. Almost too right. He walks out in silence his heartbeat echoing in his head and later in the peace and silence of his loneliness he admits it to himself and Kaburamaru- he’s fallen, and deeply.

☆ Muichiro Tokito ☆

For Muichiro his feelings don’t come fast and hard they come gently and slowly like clouds covering up the bright blue sky.

“Not like that you’re supposed to fold this part” he chuckled helping you with some origami. “How’re you so good at this?” you chuckled, gently touching his hands to inspect the small paper crane. Muichiro turns his head away from you hiding his beet red face. He’s a mess his thoughts scrambled and his chest uncharacteristically warm and blooming. He’s confused. The young hashira has never in his life encountered such a sensation. You continued folding the origami in silence the only sounds being the wind rustling some leaves and the cawing of nearby crows and sparrows.

Muichiros thoughts start wandering, but not like usual, they’re not lost or locked behind some wall. Instead of them running towards and getting covered by the fog his thoughts are clear but they’re drifting towards you. Your smile, your precise movements while fighting, your patient nature and your kind smile. All of the things Muichiro so greatly admires.

For the first time in a while the young hashira is tethered to the present and when his mind does start clouding up all it takes is your soft voice and gentle reassurance to bring him back. It’s like no matter how much his mind tries running away from him you’re a constant. Constantly whirling in his head and scrambling his poor brain.

Without knowing who to turn to Muichiro starts closely observing the other hashira. Particularly Obanai and Mitsuri. He sees Obanai blush and loose his footing whenever Mitsuri flashes a smile his way. That’s when it clicks for the young hashira he acts the same way whenever he’s around you. And in that moment he realizes he’s foolishly in love with a person far out of his league.

☆ Giyuu Tomioka ☆

Giyuu was never good with feelings especially not after loosing Sabito. He could never process what he was feelings that’s why his feelings and the realization that he loves you hit him fast and hard.

You’re on patrol the moonlight seeping through the dense forest. That’s how it started at least. With stealthy footsteps and a comfortable silence shared amongst comrades, friends. But all of that went south when an upper moon showed up. What was supposed to be an average, uneventful patrol turned to bloodshed, a fight to death. The usually calm Giyuu was slowly loosing him composure. He would’ve been fine fighting, loosing and dying on his own but with you here it’s much harder. Giyuu will always protect his fellow hashira, but this time it feels different there’s this unexplainable fear gnawing at his bones. He can’t even focus properly on the demons in front of him, his eyes subconsciously drifting to your blurry form.

His heart is pounding, he can practically hear it thumping against his eardrums. Tearing his gaze away from your form he turns back towards the demon until he hears a shrill scream coming from your direction. His hands go cold, his heart practically dropped to his stomach. A wave of fury hits him and in one swift movement the demons head is rolling on the ground as the rest of its body disintegrates. Giyuu is running through the trees his feet carrying him faster than his poor mind can process it. Tomioka draws his blade and slashes the demons head clean off before running to your aid. Your poor body was thrown against a tree stump blood seeping from my mouth.

In that moment Giyuu remembers the final selection process. Watching your unconscious form it reminded him too much of Sabito. Internally he’s panicking and for the first time ever it’s showing on his face. His deep blue eyes are wide with fear his hands shaking uncontrollably. Giyuu isn’t religious he doesn’t know why he’s begging praying and pleading doesn’t even know who he’s praying to. But all of his worries erase in an instant when you tug on the sleeve of his haori. You muster up a weak smile wiping the blood with the back of your hand.

Tanjiro Kamado – The Respectful One

You told Tanjiro about the ban with a serious expression, and his face immediately softened. “Ah… I see. You must have a reason,” he said gently, rubbing the back of his neck. Half because he felt flustered by the topic and half in embarrassment-his own embarrassment in realizing how this ban would be devastating to hom due to how much he wants you all the time. 

Tanjiro respected you so much it almost hurt. He never pressed, never complained the next couple of days,  though his lingering glances and the way he swallowed hard whenever you touched him gave him away. He almost seemed to hold his breath around you, as if worried that your scent alone would have him break. 

Lying side by side one night, he shifted closer but didn’t cross the line.

“I’ll wait as long as you need,” he whispered, voice full of sincerity. “But… please don’t be upset if I look at you like I can’t breathe without you. Because that’s how I feel.” and with that, you crumbled. How could you deny such a respectful and loving man?

Out of everyone, he lasted - painfully long - but every brush of your fingers had him clenching his jaw, fighting back need with pure willpower.

Zenitsu Agatsuma – The Needy One

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?!” Zenitsu practically wailed, collapsing to his knees the moment you said it. He was prepared to beg till you took it back. He didn't care if he looked pathetic- your touch is what drove him to even function on a daily basis. “Y/n, you’re going to kill me! Do you want me to suffer?!”

The first night of the ban, he clung to your waist like a koala. You were doing the ban for fun, and seeing him break so easily was entertaining.

“You don’t understand, I’ll die! My heart-it’s already breaking-look, look it’s pounding out of my chest!” He pressed your hand to his chest for proof, face red and desperate.

You nudge him off gently with your teasing smile, and he groaned dramatically. “Fine! Fine, I’ll respect it. But just know… if I explode from holding back, it’s your fault!”

Spoiler: he didn’t last even two days before begging enough to make you crumble.

Kyojuro Rengoku – The Honorable Challenger

When you announced the ban, Rengoku slammed his hands on the table and exclaimed: “VERY WELL! If that is your wish, Y/n, I SHALL ENDURE!”. He announced with a bright smile, catching you off guard. He didn't seem the least bit discouraged or bummed out. With his bright grin he promised to abide by the ban.

And he did - loudly, with speeches about perseverance, honor, and “testing the flames of his resolve.” He wore his struggle like a badge, determined to last longer than anyone else could.

But when he thought you were asleep, his voice dropped, a rare softness escaping him. He would press against your back, inhaling your scent as if that was enough sustenance for the meantime.

 “Still… it is so difficult not to touch what I love most.” His large hand hovered over your waist, trembling with restraint.

He lasted a long time, but every second was a battle he fought with fiery intensity. And when you lifted the ban, he was handsomely rewarded for his efforts!

Giyuu Tomioka – The Quietly Suffering One

He stiffened once you explained the ban, it sounded like a ban specifically designed and curated to tortoise him, he noted. Giyuu didn’t argue. He simply nodded when you told him, eyes unreadable. 

“Alright,” he said flatly, though his ears betrayed a faint pink. He always had a shyness towards the intimate parts of your relationship with him, the topics would get a raise out of him. And now he worries about how it’ll be like to be deprived of such acts. 

At first, you thought he didn’t care. But the silence between you at night grew heavy and charged with tension. When you brushed his hand accidentally, his breath hitched so sharply it startled you.

“You make this… difficult,” he admitted quietly one evening, staring at the floor. “But… I don’t want to disrespect you.”

He lasted the longest - painfully quiet, restraining himself to the point of agony - but when the ban ended, the floodgates opened in ways you didn’t expect from him.

Sanemi Shinazugawa – The Testy One

He stopped his training the moment the words came out of your mouth, the dummy hanging by a thread at his brutal regime from earlier. “The hell do you mean, a ban?” Sanemi’s voice was sharp, his scarred brow furrowing. “You think you can just cut me off like that?”

After explaining how you wanted to focus on your own training and needed radio silence for a bit, he reluctantly agreed. However, the glare he threw your way was a strong indication he wasn't going to like it one bit. 

He was aggressive about it, not because he didn’t care, but because the frustration burned him alive. He paced, snapped, slammed doors - all thinly veiled reactions to being denied. The other corp members actively avoided him- not that they didn't before- but more so now. No one could breathe near him due to his pent up tension. 

One night, he pinned you against the wall after you came back from late night training, lips hovering over yours. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he growled. “Watching me go crazy.”

You only smirked, the rush of seeing such a strong and prideful man crumble was indeed fun to watch, and he cursed under his breath pulling away before he broke the rule. 

He lasted… barely. And only because he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of seeing him crack first.

Obanai Iguro – The One Who Turns It Into a Game

You found him perched on a tree trunk in the middle of his estate as he watched Rengoku and Muichiro spar not too far away. You approach him with a soft smile-a stark contrast to the heavy words you were about to drop on the unsuspecting Hashira. Obanai tilted his head when you announced the ban, mismatched eyes glinting.

 “Interesting. So it’s a test of will, then?” You flush, you hadn't expected him to take it so…easily or lightly. You wanted to prank him, but he took your word for it immediately. 

Unlike the others, he didn’t complain. Instead, he played it like a game -  brushing your skin purposely during meetings, leaning close enough to make your breath hitch when training with you and even whispering filthy things he wanted to do to you. Just to watch you flinch and squirm during Hashira dinners.

“Who will break first?” he murmured one night, voice a silken tease. “You… or me?”

He made it competitive, but his self-control was ironclad. He lasted longer than you expected, and he wore his victory with a smug curl of his lips when you finally gave in first.

Akaza – The Aggressively Needy One

You fiddle nervously as you look for Akaza within the infinity castle, none of the demons were helpful with your search and soon enough Akaza appears in front of you. Saying he smelt and heard your erratic heartbeat. Inhaling deeply you finally tell him what's on your mind. 

Akaza blinked at you when you explained the ban. Then he laughed - sharp, incredulous- as if in disbelief that you'd want such a thing.

“You think you can ban me?” His grin widened, fangs flashing. Despite his words, Akaza truly meant it with sincerity. If you didn't want him for a period of time, he would respect it. Treat it as an oath even. 

But despite his bravado, Akaza’s need bled through quickly. He crowded you and followed you more often than before, pressed you against walls just to get a close up of your scent, kissed down your neck but never crossed the line.

“Say it’s over. End this stupid rule, please my love…I wont touch you unless you give me your permission” he borderline-whined into your ear.

He lasted longer than Sanemi, but not by much. His impatience made him restless, and every second without you gnawed at him like a fight he couldn’t win.

Douma – The Playful Manipulator

You are seated by his side like a showpiece meant to be admired as his followers came in with their requests and praises for their lord. Once the last member left, you turn to him and speak what's on your mind.

Douma clapped his hands when you announced the ban, eyes sparkling with amusement as you explained your reason and rules.

“Oooh, how fun! A little game of denial~! You’re so adorable when you try to act strict my Treasure~”

The next couple of days were hell  as he became a grade A menace. He teased you relentlessly, brushing your hair back during meetings in front of everyone, tracing your lips with his thumb whenever he wanted to-even in front of an annoyed Lord Muzan, pressing his body close just to watch you squirm.

“Y/n, you’re trembling… is it because you miss me?” he purred, feigning innocence.

For him, the ban wasn’t torture - it was entertainment. He made it about you, constantly trying to lure you into breaking your own rules.He lasted, technically… but only because he was having too much fun watching you unravel.

Muzan Kibutsuji – The One Who Cannot Be Denied

You felt your heart drop the moment the words left your lips, Muzan’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared into your soul. The vial of blood he was in the middle of inspecting cracked. Not under his grip, but by the sheer intensity of his aura suffocating the room. 

“A ban? I can't touch you at all..” His voice was low and venomous. “You think you can deny me?” Muzan was ready to reprimand you, scold you for taking the only thing that made him feel ... .almost human at times. The human contact he craved. But as he saw you tremble, he immediately backed off and promised to follow through. 

He had no patience for it. His touch grew possessive as he sought you out. The Demon King went out of his way to cancel meetings and skip killings (his meals) just to get a whiff of you in a close proximity. His presence is oppressive. He hovered constantly, testing your limits.

“You’re mine,” he murmured darkly against your skin. “Every part of you. I’m not a patient man, Y/n….”

He crossed the room in three steps, dropping the satchel carelessly. "(y/n)," he breathed, already kneeling beside you. His hand pressed to your shoulder, then your throat- searching, desperate, until he felt the pulse. It was weak, but there.

His breath left him in one unsteady exhale. He stayed there, hand over your chest, waiting for the slow rise. Once. Twice. Then again.

“…Okay,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Okay.”

He sat back, closing his eyes briefly. The panic didn’t vanish- it just folded itself into his small actions that came next. He replaced your bloody cloth with a clean one, soaked and wrung from the basin. He wiped your lips carefully as to not wake you, but firm enough to erase what had nearly broken him.

"Too harsh again," he whispered quietly but heavy with emotion. "You said it was easing."

He poured clean water in a cup to stir in the bitter medicine until the herbal scent filled the room. He set it down beside you, then went to adjust the futon, straightened the blanket, and tucked it around your shoulders.

He sat back on his heels and smoothed your hair away from your temple. Your breathing stuttered, catching in your throat. When it eased again, he let out a slow breath.

"...You're scaring me." he whispered.

His voice cracked on the last word. He bowed his head, hair falling forward like a curtain between you and him.

"I should have been faster," he said, barely audible. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

The shake in his chest grew, breaking his control he clung onto. His hand grasped yours in desperation. "I told you Tanjiro could get the medicine... but you said it would be fine."

His words were smaller, breaking. "And I believed you."

He turned his face away, catching a breath in his throat. For years, Giyuu had faced death with composure. But this was different. What was there to fight? Just you, pale and motionless, and the unbearable tension between one breath and the next.

He sniffed and leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the back of your hand, his tears falling into the blankets. "I don't pray," his voice became hoarse. "I never have. Not when I lost them, not when I wanted to die with them... But if there's anything listening- please. Please let her stay."

You shifted faintly in your sleep, a small sound leaving your throat. He froze but comforted you. "You're alright," he caressed your hair. "I'm right here."

He brushed your cheek with the back of his hand, wiping away a line of sweat. "You'd laugh if you saw me right now," he whispered. I wish I could hear it.

He brushed his thumb along your hand, trying to memorize the warmth there, the tiny callus on your finger where you held the broom, the curve of your nails. Anything to ground himself.

"I'll do better," he whispered. "I'll talk more, I'll stay home longer. You said you wanted a garden- I'll plant it myself. Just.." His throat closed. "Just keep opening your eyes."

Then he lifted the corner of the blankets to lay beside you. He kept his distance at first, afraid of disturbing your rest- but the moment you let out a content sigh, he closed the space.

His arms slid carefully beneath you, drawing you against his chest. Your head rested near his heartbeat- it became steady again, to lull you deeper into sleep.

The medicine cooled, untouched, but it didn't matter. The rise and fall of your chest was all he needed. He stayed there until the lamp went out, his tears drying in the dark, his embrace never letting go.

You sat quietly, wrapped in a light robe, watching the leaves fall off the trees from the opened shogi door. The air outside was warm from the change of seasons, a bittersweet reminder of how long you’ve been ill.

Slow, careful, familiar, footsteps approached behind you.

“I brought clean water,” Gyomei said, his voice breaking the morning breeze. He knelt beside you, setting the wooden basin down. His big but gentle hands were still damp from the well. “The flowers are blooming early this year. The lillies are already reaching the sun.”

You smiled faintly. “You can tell?”

“I can smell them,” he replied, lips curving softly. “And I hear the bees.”

He reached for your hands then, taking them into his own. His palms were warm whereas yours were cold and stiff. He began to wash them slowly, dipping the cloth into the water and running it over your fingers, tracing the swollen joints with a patience that could only come from love.

“Does that help?” He asked.

“It does. It’s always worse in the morning.” You murmured.

“It should ease the more you move.” He reassured.

He continued in silence for a while- the soft splash of water, occasional sigh as he messaged warmth into your joints. When he finished washing your hands, he moved to your wrists, your arms, your shoulders. His movements were quiet and methodical, appreciative of the calm between you. The water had lowered significantly by the time he reached for a towel to dry you.

You leaned against him as he wrapped the fabric around your shoulders, the beads on his neck clicking with each motion.

“You’re too good to me,” you whispered.

“I’m only doing what love requires,” he said.

You smiled faintly, then paused as you hear the faint rhythm of his voice- gentle and measured words murmured under his breath. A prayer.

“Are you praying?” You asked.

He didn’t stop. “Yes.”

“For my pain?”

“For thanks,” he said simply.

That made you blink. “For thanks? When I’m still hurting?”

He paused. Then quietly, he said, “Because your breath still stirs in the air. Because the world still grants me your voice. Even pain means you live- and as long as you live, I have reason to give thanks.”

You swallowed hard, his words sinking into you. “You… thank even for suffering?”

He smiled gently, still rubbing your hands to keep the stiffness away. “Not for the suffering,” he said. “For what remains through it. Kindness, devotion, the chance to serve. Gratitude does not mean joy; it means faith that what we love still has meaning.”

Tears welled in your eyes. You tried to hide them, but he felt your shoulders tremble. “Don’t weep,” he pressed his forehead to your temple. “I am blessed to have someone to thank for.”

You turned your head up and coughed out a laugh. Of course he was weeping too after telling you not to.

He finished drying you and helped you into clean robes, each movement careful and kind. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “No. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me serve you.” He said softly.

You smiled, eyes still glistening. “And I thank the gods you were the one to find me.”

He chuckled quietly, his thumb brushing over your hand. “Then we both have reasons to be grateful.”

The nights had turned cold again. The paper screens lined faintly with moisture, and the faintest chill curled beneath the futon where you lay. Kyojuro was already awake, of course. You could hear the careful rustle of his uniform sleeves as he folded them away, and the faint scrape of a match as he lit the oil lamp. Then the smell of medicine followed, earthy and bitter, steeping from the small pot he’d had over the brazier.

You knew he had been awake for hours.

He always was.

When he noticed you stir, his voice came like sunlight. “Good morning, my love! Did you rest well?”

You smiled faintly. It was easier than coughing. “I dreamed you were loud even in my sleep.”

Kyojuro laughed that proud, ringing laugh that one filled the fields. But it cracked, just slightly, before he caught it. He came to your side, kneeling on the tatami, the lamp light highlighting his golden and vermillion streaks. His hands brushed your temple with unbearable care.

“You have color in your cheeks again,” he said cheerfully. “That’s a fine sign!”

“I think it’s just the fever.” You tried to smile wider, but it faltered under the weight of his gaze- all that radiant optimism struggling to stay alive.

He busied himself with the tray. He always did that when his emotions trembled too close to the surface. Fussing with the tea cup, adjusting the blanket, setting your medicine exactly straight. “There! Warm broth. With rice and sweet potato, easy to swallow.”

“I’m not hungry, Kyojuro.”

“Nonsense!” His brightness was immediate and practiced. “You must eat to keep your strength. I’ll feed you myself if I must.”

He meant it, too. He sat beside you, lifted the bowl, and offered it with the same proud patience he’d shown during training. His hand didn’t shake until you coughed- the sound cutting through the silence, wet and sharp. He froze. Then he moved again, too quickly, wiping your mouth with a cloth before you could hide the pink stain on your lips.

“It’s just from the throat,” you said softly. “It’s not-“

“…I know,” he interrupted, smiling again. But his eyes- those golden, blazing eyes- had gone distant, staring at something far beyond you. His mother’s last breath still lived there, hidden in the flicker of memory.

He swallowed hard, gently grasped your hand with both of his, and brought it to his lips. “I will not lose you,” he said, as if he could declare it to the heavens. “You will not fade, not while I’m still here.”

You rested a weak hand on the back of his. “You can’t burn sickness away, Kyo.”

“Then I will warm you until it leaves.” He sat up, stubborn but certain- as always. “You will tire of my fussing before the illness tires of you!”

You laughed, and that laugh broke into another cough, but it was worth it. He poured you more tea, fed you spoonful by spoonful, and told you about the news outside.

You smiled weakly at his doting, but your eyes studied him. Since you’ve been sick, color became a rare thing in your room. He always kept the lamps burning, as if afraid of what the dark might take. His hair was looser, voice hoarser, his optimism more cautious. You knew he was trying to stay strong.

“I’m not afraid,” you whispered.

He answered with a trembling exhale- half a laugh, half a sob. “Then I will not be, either.”

But you saw it, the tightness in his jaw, the flicker in his eyes that showed every memory he’d buried of his mother’s last nights. His hand clutched yours too tightly, and when you brushed your thumb over his knuckles, he froze.

“Kyojuro…” you called him gently. “It’s not the same.”

He shook his head, smiling too brightly. “Of course not! You’re strong- you’ve always been-”

Your finger pressed against his lips, silencing him. “You don’t have to be brave for me.”

The light in his eyes broke, and turned soft and wet. He bowed his head until his forehead touched your shoulder, breathing unsteady.

“I can’t- lose you too.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, voice barely audible. “You won’t. I’m still here.”

He clung to you tighter, “You are…” he kissed your skin softly. “You are still here.”

His breath trembled against your collarbone. For a long time, neither of you spoke. The brazier cracked softly, and the shadows on the wall swayed.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were red but bright. “You’ve always been braver than I am,” he said.

You smiled faintly. “That’s not true.”’

He shook his head. “It is. You face the pain and still smile at me. My mother did that, too.” He took in a shaky inhale. “I was too young to understand then… but I see her strength in you.”

You brushed his cheek with your thumb, wiping away what little of his tears that lingered. “She would be proud of you, Kyojuro.”

He laughed quietly- a sound that cracked in the middle. “If she were here, she’d scold me for crying.”

“Then I’ll do it for her.” You whispered, and he smiled despite himself.

He leaned in and placed a kiss on your temple. “I used to think courage meant never being afraid. But now I know… it means loving you through the fear.”

The words hung there between you and you could feel his strong heartbeat through his chest. The rhythm of someone who still believed in light even when his world dimmed.

The fire burned low, lighting the room with a little more than a red glow. The house was silent except for the slow, uneven sound of your breathing. You lay still under the covers of the futon, eyes half-open, listening to the gentle scrape of Obanai’s movements. He’d been sitting there for what a felt like hours- wordless, precise, wringing a cloth into the basin beside him every few minutes.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he said without turning. His voice was low, calm, but his tone gave him away.

You smiled faintly. “And you’re supposed to be resting.”

He looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. “You’re one to talk.”

His words carried that familiar edge- the sharpness he used when he was scared. You watched him fold the damp cloth, his sleeved rolled, the faint veins of his forearms catching the light. He wrung the fabric out too tightly, and Kabuaramaru slithered from his shoulder to the table with a quiet hiss.

Obanai pressed the cloth to your forehead, his touch firm but careful. “Fever’s up again,” he muttered. “Didn’t I tell you to rest?”

“I did,” you whispered, smiling weakly. “You were muttering to yourself. Hard to sleep with all that scolding.”

He stilled for a second, then huffed softly through his nose. “I wasn’t scolding.”

“You were.”

He dipped the cloth back into the bowl. “You’re hearing things again. That fever must be worse than I thought.”

You let out a hoarse laugh, coughing lightly at the end. His hand immediately rose to steady your chest. The callouses on his fingers caught the fabric of your yukata, the warmth of his palm grounding you as the fit subsided.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “You’ll tear something again.”

“I can’t help it,” you murmured.

“I know.” His voice softened for just a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “But still. Don’t”

When your breathing evened out, you turned your head toward him. His expression was calm, his knuckled were white where he gripped the edge of the futon.

“Obanai,” you said gently. “You don’t have to stay up all night.”

“I’m not tired.”

“You’re lying.”

He looked down at you, and though half of his face was hidden, you could tell he was fighting a smile. “You’re getting bold.”

“I’ve always been bold,” you said softly. “You just like pretending it’s new.”

He shook his head again, and dipped the cloth back in the water. “You shouldn’t be talking this much in your condition.”

“Then stop me,” you teased, voice faint.

He glanced at you, emotions flickering in his mismatched eyes- frustration, worry, and something softer. “If I could stop you from getting sick, I would.” He said, quieter this time. “But I can’t. So I’ll settle for keeping you still.”

You watched him wring out the cloth again, his movements were so controlled that even his breathing matched their rhythm. “You’re gentle when you’re angry,” you whispered.

He blinked. “What?”

“You act mad,” you murmured, “but you only sound like that because you’re afraid.”

Obanai froze, water dripping from his fingers.

After a long pause, Obanai said quietly, “Maybe.”

He set the cloth down and took your hand, his thumb brushing along your palm. His touch trembled once, but barely noticeable. “I don’t like when you’re right.”

You smiled faintly, squeezing his fingers. “Then you’ll hate me when I get better.”

“I’d prefer that.”

You laughed weakly again, but he didn’t. His gaze lingered on your face, tracing the exhaustion there. The smile faded from his own eyes.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he said softly. “Not with that coughing.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“I know.” He took a slow breath. “But if it happens again, wake me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re my wife,” he said simply. “Bother me.”

That silence hung between you- heavy, but warm. He leaned down then, brushing his forehead lightly against yours. The gesture was brief, but you felt how much it cost for him to do it.

Tengen sat beside your futon, his usual bold colors were muted for once. The sleeves of his yukata were rolled to his elbows, hair loosely tied. His wives had finally gone to rest and he insisted- no, ordered- that he take this turn himself. They argued of course. But no one could pry him from your side tonight.

Your breathing was shallow. Each inhale sounded like it had to travel too far. The fever had left your cheeks warm, your lips dry and pale. He’d wiped your forehead a dozen times already, even though the cool cloth warmed within moments.

When your lashes fluttered, he leaned closer immediately, “Hey, hey-“ his voice softened, quieter than anyone thought he could speak. “You with me, my gem?”

You blinked slowly, gaze finding him. “It’s… late,” you whispered, voice barely more than air. “You should rest.”

He smiled, though it was faint and tired at the edges. “Can’t. What if you throw a party without me?”

That earned a small, breathless laugh- one that ended in a weak cough. He caught your wrist gently, steadying you until the tremor passed. His thumb brushed the pulse there, and for a moment his eyes darkened.

“I don’t throw parties,” you murmured once the quiet settled again.

“Then I’ll throw one for you when you’re better.” He said easily, though his throat aged on the word when. “We’ll decorate the garden with lanterns… crimson, gold, and lavender, just like you love. Hina will cook that sweet rice you like, Suma will cry because she’ll spill it on her kimono.”

You smiled faintly. “and Makio will shout at her clumsiness.”

“Of course she will.” His grin grew softer. “That’s part of the fun.” He adjusted your pillow slightly, helping you sit up, though the effort drew a quiet sound from your chest. You winced, pressing a hand against your side.

Immediately, his eyes sharpened. “There it is again, isn’t it?”

You didn’t answer at first. The pain radiating from your lower back into your ribs was enough to steal the air from your lugs. The familiar heaviness settled in your stomach, the swelling in your hands and feet making movement uncomfortable.

“Tengen,” you whispered, voice tight, “don’t-”

But he was already reaching for the medicine jar, measuring the dose with surprising precision. He slid one arm behind your shoulder, the other steadying the cup at your lips.

“Small sips,” he murmured, his voice coaxing, “slow, my gem. It’ll ease the ache.”

You obeyed but grimaced at the bitter taste. He held the cup until you’d finished, then he set it aside and pressed his palm lightly against your ribs- applying careful and steady pressure, as if his hand could ground the pain and draw it away.

“Better?”

“A little.” You breathed shallowly. “You’ve gotten good at that.”

“Years of practice,” he said with a faint smirk.

You managed a small smile, but your eyes fluttered, exhaustion already claiming you.

He smoothed your hair back, thumb tracing over your temple. “You always do that,” he said quietly.

“Do what?”

“Smile when you hurt,” he murmured. “Like you’re trying to trick me into thinking it’s nothing.”

You lips parted, but no sound came. The truth was- you were. You always were. Because if he ever truly saw how much it hurt, you feared what it would do to him.

“I just… don’t want you to worry,” you whispered finally.

Tengen exhaled, the sound shaky despite the smile he wore. “Too late for that, sweetheart. I started worrying for you the moment I realized how much I love you.”

You blinked at him, the corner of your mouth tilting faintly. “That’s not very… flamboyant of you.”

He laughed quietly- a real one this time, though it trembled. “Maybe not. But when it comes to you,” he said, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. “I’d rather be honest than loud.”

He helped you back down and adjusted your blanket, leaning in close enough for your forehead to rest against his shoulder. “Now sleep. I’ll keep count of every breath you take, just to prove you’re still showing off without even trying.”

You managed a faint hum in response, already slipping toward sleep. He stayed there his large hand splayed against your back, feeling the uneven rhythm of your breathing- the one sound that mattered more than the quiet, or his own heartbeat.

And when the medicine took, when your pain eased and your body went still, Tengen bowed his head and whispered so softly, “Tomorrow, we’ll plan that party again. You tell me what flowers you want this time, yeah?”

The room was dim and cool when you woke. A faint drizzle patterned against the paper shoji, tracing silver threads down the wooden frame. Beside you, Sanemi had finally fallen asleep. He was sitting against the wall, one arm propped on his knee, the other stretched across the futon as if his body alone could guard you from whatever tried to take you next.

His hair was untidy, sticking to his forehead; his breath came slow and deep, for once unburdened by nightmares. You watched the rise and fall of his chest- the scar along his cheek soft in the dim morning light, his hand still resting near yours. There was a peace there you rarely saw in waking hours, and you wished you could stay in it a while longer.

The rain outside smelled clean, like the earth had exhaled. And you wanted to see it.

Slowly, you shifted your weight, pressing your hands to the futon to push yourself upright. The effort sent a dull ache through your chest- that familiar tightness, like someone was holding your heart too tightly. You didn’t want to wake him, but the futon rustled, and his hand moved before his eyes even opened.

“Hey,” his voice was rough with sleep. “What are you doing?”

You froze halfway up. “I wanted to see the garden… it’s raining.”

Sanemi sat up instantly, eyes sharp, guilt flashing there as fast as his temper. “You should’ve woken me up. Damn it, I shouldn’t have-” He clenched his jaw, looking away. “Shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

You smiled faintly. “You can’t stay awake forever, Sanemi.”

He grunted, still scowling, still angry- but not at you. More at himself. Always himself. Then he sighed, rubbed a hand over his space, and muttered, “Hold on. Don’t move ‘til I say.”

You watched him slide the shoji door open, letting the scent of wet pine and gardenia drift in. The rain played a soft drum against the garden stones. The sky was gray, and when he came back, he knelt down and helped you up.

“Come on. You wanted to see the rain.”

With his help, you moved slowly, each step delibrate, until you both sat on the tatami before the open door- him crosslegged with you lying over his lap. The wooden engawa sparkled with the droplets, and the flowers gathered the rain so perfectly.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

You leaned lightly against him. His arm went arm you automatically. “You shouldn’t push yourself,” he said quietly.. “Your heart-”

“I know.” You smiled, watching the rain. “It’s still beating, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer. Just held you tighter.

The rain deepened and you closed your eyes, breathing in the damp scent of the earth with his warmth beside you.

After a moment, you whispered, “You look so peaceful when you sleep.”

He turned his head toward you. “…What?”

“You do,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Like all the anger finally left you.”

Sanemi huffed, embarrassed, his ears reddening. “Tch. Don’t say weird things.”

“It’s not weird. I like it.”

For once, he didn’t argue. The quiet stretched between you again, only the rain filling it. You could feel the tension in his chest. The way his breathing stuttered every time you shifted, fear buried under all his roughness.

“I hate this,” he finally said. “Just sittin’ here… watchin’ you get tired from breathing.”

You reached up, your fingers finding his rough hand. He was trembling faintly beneath his rough exterior. “Then don’t think about it like that,” you whispered. “You’re not watching me fade, Sanemi. You’re keeping me company while I fight to stay.”

His jaw flexed. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, voice thick. “Every time you close your eyes too long, I-” He swallowed hard. “I think maybe you won’t open ‘em again.”

You turned toward him then, laying your palm against his cheek. The dull light from outside shimmered in his eyes- stubborn, scared, and beautiful. “Just look at me now,” you said softly. “I’m still here. I’ll keep opening my eyes if it means seeing you first thing.”

He exhaled shakily, a sound caught somewhere between laughter and pain. You leaned in until your forehead brushed his collar, his familiar warmth grounding you both.

“Hey,” you murmured while your fingers traced the back of his hand, “if my heart’s tired, yours can beat for the both of us for a while. You’re good at that, aren’t you? Carrying people.”

The silence fell. Then in the small voice he ever used, he muttered, “Damn woman… you’ll be the death of me.”

-

note: I imagined if Giyuu was scared like this, he would be rambling to fill the silence and ease the panic. that's just me though, okay bye-

You could swear that Gyomei literally does not sleep. When you go to bed, either he is praying or still sitting under the waterfall to finish up his endurance training for the day. When you wake up, his ass is already out of bed and starting his day. When does he sleep? You don’t know. Maybe his body is running on thoughts and prayers. Yours to be exact.

You’re not sure if Giyuu will like you scooting closer for cuddles. Neither of you ever really talked about because why should you? How would that conversation even go? “Hey, can we cuddle ourselves to sleep? Are you okay with that?”… Yeah, no. Although you do sometimes wake up with his chest pressed to your back, legs around your waist and face nuzzled against your shoulders. That’s an even worse conversation to have. “Why are you clinging for life onto me when you sleep?”

Obanai snores very quietly when he sleeps. It’s white-noise at this point but you miss it whenever he is not around to breathe into your ear. It makes you happy that he is comfortable enough to remove his bandages around you and hearing him snore is a reminder of that trust. But anyways, Kaburamaru has its own little bed on his nightstand, including pillows and a blanket.

Obanai – super overprotective

„Darling, you really don’t have to be cautious all the time. I’m fine and it’s mid-day.”

“You never know”, the man next to you mumbles while positioning himself in front of you.

Since the day Obanai found out that you’re expecting your very first child, he never left your side. Not even at night, when he’s usually out fulfilling his duty as a hashira. And if he must go, he always makes sure that you’re not alone.

“I really don’t want to bother you, but Iguro-san sent me here to keep an eye open for you”, Mitsuri explained with reddened cheeks after appearing in front of your door at sunset.

You sign to yourself with a small smile crawling up your face. You never really realized that your husband is so eager to have a child. When the two of you first met, he acted so cold towards you that you were convinced he hated you after saving your life in your village back then. It wasn’t until he showed up at the butterfly estate on a random day and handed you a bouquet of flowers that you realized how hard you fell for that man yourself. Despite his cool and composed walls, despite always staying in the background and leaving disgracing comments from time to time. You really learned how to love the serpent hashira for the man he is: kind, loving, protective and smart.

“Why are you not coming over to cuddle me instead?”, you suggest oh so sweetly while opening your arms as an invitation.

Obanai side-eyes you up and down, his mind visibly racing behind those gorgeous eyes.

“But what if I hurt you and the baby?”, he mutters, still standing his ground.

“I’m not made of paper and the baby isn’t as well. And also, I’m carving nothing more than a hug from my husband at the moment.”

Slowly but surely, he finally turns around. As if you’re made of porcelain, he wraps his arms around you oh so gently. Have you ever seen your husband this cautious and sensitive around other human beings? You’ve seen the way he beats up the other corps members in his training sessions on a daily basis. A giggle escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. Your man really turned soft due to this pregnancy.

“What’s so funny?”, he grumbles, his vibrant eyes set on you.

“You’re too hesitant to give me a real hug and yet, you’re beating up innocent kids during training. Come on now, I said I want a real hug!”

Before he’s able to protest, you press yourself against him with full force, allow your head to rest against his beating heart. It’s been ages since he last cuddled you the way you always loved it. With your body resting on top of his and your arms wrapped around his broad chest, everything starts to feel like home.

“Don’t you think that’s too dangerous? The baby-“

“The baby will be fine. I can handle a tight hug, darling. I really missed this…”

He shifts his weight underneath you and gently starts rubbing your back. Oh, how much you adore your husband and those sweet little moments between both of you. You never imagined to love someone like this, to fall head over heels for a man who is the complete opposite of yourself. But here you are, falling even harder day by day.

“And…you really think this is safe?”

“I’m absolutely sure it is!”

Obanai pauses for a moment, his eyes almost piercing through you.

“I think you should go and see Shinobu later”, he finally presses out.

“Come on, I already told you-“

“This doesn’t feel safe at all. We’re leaving in just a few minutes”, he continues while wrapping his arms around you.

Rengoku – the proudest soon-to-be dad

“I made you breakfast, my love!”, your husband announces while entering your shared bedroom in his plain white kimono.

“You’re way too kind, Kyojuro. You know I could have done it myself”, you reply while lifting yourself off the futon.

“Oh, let me help you up!”

Gently, he grabs your shoulders and helps you to get up. With your swollen belly, things aren’t as easy as they used to be. By now, you aren’t even able to see your feet anymore.

But it’s all worth it. He’s all worth it.

“Look at you”, he mutters with unusual low voice.

When his hand starts caressing your belly along with that loving gleam in his eyes, you almost forget how to breathe. From the day both of you found out that you are expecting a child, Kyojuro fell head over heels.

“You look so breathtakingly good, my everything. I could stand here and stare at you all day, little flame.”

It almost seems as if Kyojuro’s already heavy feelings doubled during your pregnancy. Not a single hour goes by without him telling you how gorgeous you look, that you are an angel walking on earth.

Even though you know you gained a few pounds and how swollen your face looks. He doesn’t care about the fact that sometimes, you are too exhausted to wash your hair or that you didn’t dress in something nice since your clothes started to get too tight.

Your husband adores each and every fiber of your being.

“Stop, you’re making me blush”, you giggle while playfully freeing yourself out of his strong arms.

“I’ll never stop telling my pregnant wife how gorgeous she looks! How are you feeling, my love?”

You find yourself trapped in his arms with his eyes all over you again. God, will you ever get tired of looking at him, of seeing those vibrant eyes?

“I’m okay. I just feel a little heavy.”

“I’m so proud of you for enduring all of this. Shinobu already told me this pregnancy doesn’t go easy on your body. You’re a real fighter, (y/n)!”

“A fighter? My body is supposed to do this. There’s nothing special about that”, you try to brush his praise off, cheeks already turning dark red.

“Don’t think about it that way. Your body might be equipped for a pregnancy, but Shinobu informed me about all the things you have to endure and how painful and tiring it can be-“

“Did Shinobu really explain all those things to you?”, you mutter through your hands that cover your face in sheer embarrassment.

“Of course! After all, I’m your husband and it’s my duty to support you in the best way possible!”, his beaming voice replies proudly.

“And I can’t wait to meet our little wonder.”

The second he gets on his knees, you see stars. Oh so gently, he pulls your kimono to the side and starts caressing and kissing your womb. Your knees threaten to fail you, feelings all over the place. God, you really don’t deserve a loving and caring husband like him, you don’t deserve all those feelings he holds for you and your unborn baby so openly.

Before you’re able to stop yourself, a violent sob escapes your lips.

“No love, why are you crying?”

Kyojuro meets you eye to eye in an instant, his hand carrying away every little tear that threatens to stain your face.

“It’s just…You are too kind…I don’t deserve your praise…”, you croak out.

“You deserve this and so much more. Now come on, I made you mochis with the receipt Kanroji taught me…”

You sniffle uncontrollably in his arms.

Wait, did he just say…

“You mean my favorite mochis?”, you mutter.

“Of course, little flame!”

“Oh…Then…Maybe we should get going, then…”

Sanemi – doesn’t even know yet

Fuck fuck fuck.

You stare at Shinobu in sheer horror. This can’t be true. Definitely a mistake. A cruel joke, maybe.

You…pregnant?

“Tell me you’re joking”, you mutter under your breath.

Just when you thought things between Sanemi and you started to get better, than you finally managed to live besides. Calling yourself his wife was never easy, especially due to the fact that he only married you because your family literally sold you to him in exchange for not killing you right on the spot. The two of you never seemed to get along that well.

You swallow hard. That night was an exception. You came home drunk, you didn’t know what you were doing when you seduced him, when you began babbling about something as stupid as feelings.

You swore to yourself that you’ll never fall for your husband. And now you’re expecting his child.

“I’d never joke about something like that, (y/n). It seems like somehow, you managed to get pregnant”, Shinobu replies in all seriousness while taking off her gloves.

Fuck.

“He’ll fucking kill me”, you mumble to yourself.

“Maybe he’ll skin me before that, slice open my belly like a fish-“

“Can you just stop?”, Shinobu interrupts you in all urgency.

“Shinazugawa might not be the most empathic man walking on this earth, but he also didn’t marry you for nothing. I’m sure everything will be fi-“

“Absolutely nothing’s fine. I’m fucking screwed”, you huff in frustration while yanking up.

You’re completely fucked. There’s no way in hell Sanemi will ever find out about this, not in this lifetime. You have to make sure that this stays a secret.

“Don’t you dare to tell him a single word about this, got it?”, you literally threaten Shinobu with your shaky finger pointing at her.

You, expecting a baby.

From Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Without even waiting for her reply, you storm out. Are you able to get rid of this situation? Mindlessly, you rub your belly when a new wave of memories from that fateful night hits you.

“I might l-love you”, you blurted into the room, Sanemi’s widened eyes staring at you in sheer horror.

“You…love me? Just yesterday, you told me how much you hate me”, he clarified with harsh voice.

“Are you drunk, (y/n)?”

“I…might be, yeah. But I mean it.”

Against all voices that begged you to stop, you darted towards him.

Until you sat on top of him and wrapped your longing arms around his neck.

“I love u, Sanemi.”

“I can’t believe a single word you say, shithead.”

“Watch me, then.”

It happened so fast you still can’t believe it. One passionate kiss, your hands wandering underneath his uniform, his muscular frame on top of you.

“You really want this?”, he huffed against your cheek, usual so maniac orbs filled with nothing but pure lust.

“Yeah”, you breathed out.

Urgh. You dig your nails into your hair, head spinning instantly. What kind of fuckery is this? Your first night ever and now…you’re pregnant? As if things between you and him aren’t already cringe enough.

“Why are you looking like shit?”

His oh so familiar voice makes your guts turn. For the split of a second, you are literally one movement away from puking all over his feet.

“Why are you talking shit?”, you spit at him, shoulder bumping against his as you try to get away from here as soon as possible.

But Sanemi grabs your wrist before you’re even able to think about your escape.

“Why were you at Shinobu’s? You never visit her.”

“I’m not feeling well”, you jeer at him.

“You even refused talking to her when your bone splatted out of your damn leg. Don’t fuck with me, (y/n). You didn’t come here for nothing.”

“Yeah, I really shouldn’t have done that”, you snap, violently ripping away your wrist.

This is way too much. Your family, Sanemi, that damned pregnancy. You thought this hell trip was over when Sanemi somehow managed to accept you, you really thought you could leave a rather peaceful life.

God, what a fucking fool you are.

“Hey, what the hell is going on? (y/n)!”

Just before your knees hit the ground, you feel Sanemi’s strong arms lifting you back up.

“What the hell has gotten into you!?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

“All of this because of that damned night, because I lost my fucking control. I’m pregnant…”

Sanemi’s arms around you tense up immediately. Fuck, you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.

Truth is, you love that man. Fuck, you fell for him harder than you ever imagined, so badly that you can’t stop thinking about him. And that night, you allowed yourself to get a taste of him. After all, maybe this was all you need to finally forget about him, right?

What a fool you are.

“You’re…what?”

Violently you rub away the tear that starts rolling down your cheek.

“You’re…pregnant…”

“Saying it again and again won’t make it disappear”, you bark at him.

“I’ll be a dad?”

Huh? What is that unusual tone in his voice. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa really sound…joyful?

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

In the split of a second, you find yourself devoured in his arms and captivated by his glossy eyes. Your heart skips a beat, mind not able to follow the scene that lays itself out in front of your eyes. He doesn’t look angry at all, not even sad. No, he looks as happy as you’ve never seen him before.

“I can’t believe it. I never imagined this to happen”, he whispers while grabbing your face.

“Gosh, let me kiss you.”

“You want to kiss me?”, you shriek.

Despite your growing feelings for the wind hashira and those countless secret looks you’ve shared with each other, it was always a quiet agreement between both of you to never express any feelings. No hugs, no kisses, no questions. Just living side by side. Fuck, you never even allowed yourself to even gaze at his lips before that fateful night.

And now you’re lying in his arms, pregnant while he asks for a kiss.

“I mean…yeah”, you finally breathe out.

And then his lips crush against yours. Longingly, passionately, filled with so many emotions that you fail to breathe. All this time, you tried so desperately to hate that man, to hide your feelings from him in order to protect yourself. But all it took was a single night and that unexpected pregnancy to make you realize that maybe, allowing yourself to discover your own feelings isn’t that bad, after all.

Maybe, everything will in fact turn out alright.

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