#saneobagiyuu

translation:

S: DID YOU TAKE THE PIC ALREADY??

O: just hold on

S: HURRY!!

There was a thing about life that made it so unappealing. Several things, actually. But for one, you don't even make it out alive. What's the point? What do you live for if you're just going to die in a couple years? You don't even know if you'll make it past tomorrow. So what's the point?

The fact stood, however, that if Giyuu died, he would no longer see Sanemi and Obanai anymore. Which seemed to be the sole reason he was alive. He didn't even know if he should keep living for them. He was a nuisance anyway. He would only bother them and they were better off alone. He wondered, often, if they would notice if he died.

Though they did seem to notice other things. Like if he was quieter than usual—which was saying something, considering he was often quiet—or if he hadn't been eating. His eating problems weren't like Obanai's. They were selfish—Obanai's made sense.

Giyuu didn't eat because he hoped he would starve to death. He would waste Sanemi's carefully made food just because he wasn't happy. He was stupid.

He was so sure that Sanemi and Obanai were quite done with him. He figured that if they weren't so nice, they would've dropped his ass immediately. He had forced them into the relationship anyhow, right? He'd forced himself into theirs. Somehow, for some reason, they had let him. They acted as if they loved him—but did they really?

Sometimes, when he watched them, he could imagine that they would be perfectly fine without him. Smiling and laughing. They looked good together. They were better off without his presence. He was nothing but a river between to pieces of land, pushing them apart. He only ruined things. 

They insisted, for his sake, that he wasn't annoying. They said they loved him. They said they cared. But they couldn't truly, right? Shinobu had said it herself—nobody liked him. Nobody wanted to be his friend, much less his boyfriend. So how had he gotten two boyfriends? Simple. They were too kind to let him down. They probably figured he would cry like a fucking baby and follow them like a stupid child if they rejected him. He would. He probably would.

That was the worst of it. He knew why they hated him. But he couldn't let himself to accept it. Or, at least, leave them be. He stuck to them like glue, unwilling to leave their side. You see, they were the only people who could make him feel, even just for a split second, that he might possibly want to live. That he might be worth it. That life might be worth it. Just for a minute. And it was the most selfish thing he ever let himself keep. He refused to be selfish, typically, but he needed it. Wanted it. He longed for it. Yearned for it to last. A little longer. A minute more. 

×××

Sanemi knew what it looked like when someone hurt themself deliberately. He would know. He used to do it. But that was in the past. He hadn't given it much of a thought again after months—years—passed. He began to feel content again and mostly forgot that he'd ever had an episode like that. 

Obanai and Giyuu were his absolute pride and joy—and Genya, though he would never admit it to anyone. They made him feel as if he could lead a somewhat normal life, or at least die a content death. So he went along with his life just fine for a while. Until Giyuu stumbled into his house, face pale and arms slack.

For a moment, he got a sense of déjà vu. He didn't understand it at first and simply picked up Giyuu, asking if he was alright. Then it hit him.

The first time he had purposefully harmed himself, he hadn't been sure what was wrong with him. It was when Masachika was alive. Sanemi hadn't slept well that day and had awoken with a surge of guilt and pain. He didn't understand himself. He had grabbed his katana and numbly drew it down his own body, watching blood spill from the wounds. The blade had been sharp. And he had pressed much too hard. But the pain felt relieving, as if feeling some pain would make up for the loss of his family, his siblings he'd been unable to protect. It soothed his mind. But then Masachika had entered the room.

The katana had dropped and suddenly his wounds stung in a million other ways and he no longer felt the momentary comfort from them. He cried out, standing. He had wobbled towards Masachika, unsure what he was doing. He was sure, now, that he must've looked exactly as Giyuu did now. Collapsing into Masachika's arms, molded by the concern lacing his friend's gaze.

He must've looked the same. Pale and shaky. Wondering what the hell had he done.

Sanemi tugged Giyuu's sleeves up. When he had done it, it had been all over his body. His legs, his arms, his chest. But he had caught a glint of bandages from under Giyuu's haori sleeve. It hadn't been there earlier and he hadn't gone on any missions since they had last met.

The bandages were stained red. It was only one arm, but it was still one arm. It was still there.

He scooped Giyuu up, taking him to his room. He placed him down on the futon, ordering him to stay there before shouting at his crow to go find Obanai and scouring his bathroom for towels and bandages. 

When Obanai had arrived, they had mopped up Giyuu's arm, putting light pressure on the wounds as they dabbed the blood with the towel. The bandages were wrapped around his arm and then they pulled him under the covers of the bed, quiet. They stole worried glances, holding Giyuu in a tight embrace.

After Giyuu had fallen asleep, they had spoken to one another in hushed tones for hours. They hadn't known that Giyuu had been unhappy to the point he would do something like this. And Sanemi feared it wasn't a one-time thing. That it was worse. That it would spread. 

Obanai suggested they spoke to Giyuu about it. He said that they would have to help him, somehow. To make him have something to live for, maybe.

When they talked to Giyuu, the following day, over this matter, he had brushed it off.

"I'm alright," he had said. "I was just feeling bad yesterday."

Neither believed him. Giyuu had never been the best at lying. He hadn't suddenly gotten the talent to.

They ended up dragging him back to Sanemi's house for another cuddle session. This time, however, they involved Giyuu in the talking. The conversation went back and forth time after time, constantly revolving back to the fact that Sanemi and Obanai loved him dearly and then Giyuu denying it and assuming they didn't.

In the end, however, they were satisfied with the results. Giyuu ended up contently snuggling into their hugs and finally giving up with his argument. he seemed a bit happier after the talk and Sanemi and Obanai relaxed slightly.

Of course, they of all people should've known to never let their guard down. But it's only human to forget every now and then. Even when it comes at the worst times possible.

×××

It would've been a lie to say that Giyuu hadn't felt better after his boyfriends told him how much they loved him for an hour straight. But it would've also been a lie to say that it helped him on the long run. See, it made him feel better for about two hours after the talk. Roughly. And then his mind ran wild.

They must've been telling him that to make him stop being a burden to them. So they would stop having to help him. They probably felt pressured to do it. Yes, that was it. They didn't love him as much as they said they did. Words were empty, right? Promises didn't save Tsutako's life. Neither did they mean much when they told him "I love you." They didn't love him. They shouldn't. They wouldn't. Who would love him anyway? It was illogical. Unlikely. Stupid.

The thoughts molded his mind. They made up his thoughts. They made him want to curl up in a ball and cry. And maybe get dehydrated from that and die. Then in that moment he made a decision. It wasn't a sober one. He wasn't in the right mind. But it was far too late to stop him.

He was being ludicrous. Of course they didn't love him! Of course they wanted him out of their sight right away! Why would they care about him? There was nothing appealing about Giyuu; he was quiet and stubborn and annoying. He was nothing but another person to worry about because he was too childish and careless to take care of himself. So he was better off gone. Out of their lives.

His hand was on his katana, pulling it out of his sheathe. Then the blade was at his throat. He felt nothing more.

×××

It came, as would be expected from anyone but Giyuu, a shock. At first, the Hashira were confused. Was this a joke? It was the middle of the day. What had happened to Giyuu? How had he died? And then one word fell upon their ears and they were stiffened with shock. 

"Suicide."

The news reached Sanemi and Obanai first—who were on their way to Giyuu's house to hopefully spend some time together. They had been making their way idly to his house, talking lightheartedly. Then a crow swooped by. Was that Kanzaburou?

The word of Giyuu's death that he'd inflicted upon himself had barely left the bird's beak before the two had dropped their food—which they'd had to maybe convince Giyuu to eat lunch with them—and rushed to his house. The door was broken open—there was no use knocking.

The house was eerily silent for the middle of the day. Their footsteps, though loud, and their calls of his name didn't fill in the quiet that had befallen over the house. They stopped dead at his bedroom door, eyes wide but face otherwise slack with shock. Giyuu's body was slumped down, his head deattached from his body. His katana was held loosely in his hand, blood dotted vaguely on the blade. He was dead.

First came the shock. The processing. Then panic surged both Hashira forward and they stumbled towards his body, kneeling by his side. There was no hope on saving him. There couldn't be.

They searched the room. Had there been something to trigger him? No. What was it? Had they not done enough? Had they made it worse? What had happened? What the hell had fucking happened?

The news rippled through the Hashira. A death like this, though not uncommon for Demon Slayers, was the first amongst the Hashira in decades. Because of that, several Hashira were at Giyuu's house within minutes of getting the occurance. They found Sanemi and Obanai bent over Giyuu's body, clutching each other and shaking. Tears didn't seem to be coming out but silent screams rendered them useless as Tengen slowly pulled Giyuu from under them, wrapping him in a blanket to be buried.

Neither Sanemi nor Obanai knew what had happened. But both blamed themself. And the cycle began.

×××

« Word count: 1921 »

For a brief period of time, things go back to normal. Tomioka sees them trying and its like a switch flicks inside of him- they are trying because they want to, because they want him. He reciprocates the effort. He makes them breakfast after they spend the night and then dinner before they travel back to their own homes. He shows up to their trainings with towels and a change of clothes. He laughs a bit more and he sunbathes in his front yard while they bicker about nothing in particular. They say I love you and he says it back. I love you, too.

But a cycle is just that. An end is just a beginning and the beginning is an end in and of itself. It could be a mission that includes Sanemi and Obanai but excludes Tomioka. Or it could be a snide remark from another rank, sticking their nose into business it doesn’t belong in. it could be an eyeroll from Sanemi or a scoff from Obanai. but somewhere along the way something happens and Tomioka is once again awake at three in the morning with a weight on his chest. There’s a pressure behind his eyes and a pit in his stomach. He doesn’t want this to happen again. He was getting so much better. Why does this always happen to him? Why can’t he be normal, accept love without question? Is there something wrong with him? Fundamentally, cosmically wrong?

He spirals. It's just like before. But this time there’s no one there to keep his head above water. Sanemi and Obanai are sent on a mission. Tanjiro and Nezuko haven’t seem him in months. The other Hashira barely tolerate him as it is. He is alone. And he sinks.

It only takes a few days. The feeling of his sword against his wrists isn’t as unnerving as he thought it would be.

In a few days time, the crows of the Demon Slayer Corp receive a message. Kanzaburou caws solemnly. The news travels fast.

It reaches the Hashira residing at the estate first. Shinobu, Rengoku, and Himejima. The birds swarm above them, and for an oblivious second, they think there’s a mission. Then, Attention, Hashira! Tomioka Giyuu, the water pillar, has been found dead in his estate!

And there’s a silence between the three. Maybe it’s the shock. Maybe it’s the wording. Dead. In his estate. They listen to the message repeat two, three times more before it sets in. One of them is dead. Shinobu is the first to start moving. Rengoku and Himejima follow closely.

Next, is Tengen, who relaxes at home with his wives milling about. He can hear his crow from miles away. When the bird doesn’t say anything until it lands on a window perch, is when Tengen knows something is wrong. The words ring throughout the house. Tomioka Giyuu has been found dead. One of his wives drops a cup. It shatters on the floor. Tengen flinches.

Mitsuri is training when she’s delivered the news. She snaps her wooden sword in two. She can’t accept it- and- and then she thinks- Obanai. Sanemi. She doesn’t thinks she’s ever cried so hard before, and she doesn’t think she ever will again.

Sanemi and Obanai are on their way back from a long, hard mission. They talk amongst themselves once in awhile, hands grasped and swaying. They’re making their way back to Tomioka’s house, grateful to finally see their lover after weeks apart. Though, they’re worried, undoubtedly so. Tomioka hasn’t sent a letter in days. They wonder if perhaps he has been sent on a mission and hasn’t been able to write, yet. They miss him. They can’t stop talking about him, about seeing him again. Sanemi plans to cook the three of them dinner and Obanai talks of taking Tomioka on a walk.

When they’re only two miles away, there’s a rustle in the trees. Both of them tense. The adrenaline inside them is still pumping, muscles long overworked from slaying demons. They both keep their eyes keen on the tree line. Only, instead of a sneak attack, out flies a crow.

It’s an estate one, not assigned to any specific slayer. It sqwuaks once, then twice, circling above them like a bad omen. Sanemi’s heart jumps into his throat and Obanai swallows harshly. Something’s wrong. They can feel it.

Attention, Hashira! Tomioka Giyuu, the water pillar, has been found dead in his estate!

The world is ripped from beneath their feet. They can’t- they can’t breathe. Their throats are closing up and their lungs are squeezing and nothing feels real. Neither of them move. They’re stuck infinitely in the place they are, where their feet meet the ground. One step in front of a time where Tomioka was still alive and forced to take another step into a time where he is not.

They don’t look at each other. Their hands fall from each other’s touch. They both begin to run.

They are the first to reach the estate. The body.

Sanemi breaks down the front door with a shaky leg and a bruised shoulder. Obanai grabs him by his uniform and drags him inside and they’re both stumbling through the living room. They ignore the silence because they have to, because if they focus too much on it then they don’t think they’ll be able to keep walking.

The kitchen is empty and so are the closets and the patio and the bathroom. While Sanemi is kicking at a closed door in frustration, Obanai’s feet stop in front of the closed off bedroom. He knows what’s behind it. Sanemi does too, because instead of kicking that closed door, he stomps over to kick this one instead. He’s angry, though Obanai can see through it clearly.

“I swear to god, you better open this fucking door, G-..” He says, and then he cuts himself off, because his voice is wavering and he can’t say that name. Not yet.

Obanai twists the knob open instead. He can’t bear the nerves. He needs to see for himself. He won’t believe it if he doesn’t.

Tomioka sits splayed against the furthest wall. His head is slumped over on to his shoulder and his eyes are closed. His hair is untied and greasy and wisps across his forehead. His haori is neatly folded next to him, with his shoes tucked away as well.

His wrists are cut up to his inner elbow. The blood that spills from them has long since dried.

Sanemi drops to his knees and the only way Obanai is able to stay upright is the utter shock keeping him rigid. Silent, hot tears begin to fall. They don’t look away from the body- the body of their lover.

This is how they’re found five minutes later, when the other pillars begin to arrive. Shinobu, Rengoku, and Himejima are first. Tengen and Mitsuri arrive seconds later.

It’s not enough, it feels too empty. The simplest, quietest gasp from Shinobu is what knocks Sanemi and Obanai from their stupor.

They scramble and trip and stumble to Tomioka like there’s still time, like there’s still someway to save him. The rest of the Hashira are stilled in silence, unable to find something to do or say, unable to stop their friends. Obanai grabs at his lover's arms and tries to push the sliced skin back together. Sanemi’s clammy palms grabs at his paper white cheeks and checks his pulse.

When he finds none, he screams. He sucks in a breath and he digs his face into Tomioka’s chest and he screams.

Obanai finally begins to register that the dried blood on his hands will never wash off. He will forever be stained the same way he was stained all those decades ago when they first sliced his lips open. He falls from his ankles to his knees and nestles the palm of Tomioka’s hand to his cheeks with a cry.

The Hashira don’t know what to do. They stand at the doorway and they watch the blood smear and the tears fall. They listen to sobs so anguished that it burns into their memory. Himejima begins to pray but the words are muffled over the loudness of grief.

Getting the cold body away from Sanemi and Obanai proves to be difficult. They lash out and attack indiscriminately at their peers. They draw swords and scream threats and crowd around Tomioka’s body like a lion does a carcass.

Shinobu has to be brought tranquillizers from the butterfly estate. Only after it’s administered do Sanemi and Obanai finally collapse in on themselves.

Mitsuri and Himejima watch over them solemnly as Tengen, Rengoku, and Shinobu wrap up Tomioka’s body in a white sheet.

The funeral is worse than the day of Tomioka’s death, if that’s even possible. The Kamado siblings are finally made aware of the situation, along with the group of friends they acquaint themselves with. The former water Hashira, Urokodaki, is also informed. Genya finds out through Himejima.

The turmoil is immense. Tanjiro is inconsolable. He is barely able to stand upright as he rushes through Butterfly Estate’s doors. Zenitsu and Inosuke are following closely behind him, with Nezuko hiding away in her box. They say they’ve been running for a day and a half straight after receiving the news. That there must be some kind of mistake, that their crow has mistranslated the words, that it can't be true.

The quiver in Tanjiro’s voice when he asks- Is Giyuu-san here? Can we see him?- is enough for Shinobu to break her facade. A tear slips down her cheek as she takes the three boys and the demon girl into a back room where Tomioka’s body lay prepped for the funeral.

The cries that come after she closes the door echo around the entire estate. They don’t stop.

Urokodaki arrives later that day. He’s wearing his mask as he bows to the Hashira, and they bow back. Sanemi and Obanai avoid his gaze. They can’t look him in the eye, they can’t even look in his direction. Hearing his voice makes them flinch. They can’t handle this- they can’t do this- they can’t face the effects of their failure.

Urokodaki asks a question as well, once formalities are finished. Where’s my son? He asks, quietly, hushed. Sanemi and Obanai begin to sob. The former water Hashira joins them.

Genya.... tries. He watches, at first, from a distance. Ever since he first heard the news, He’s been watching. Keeping his eyes trailed on his grieving brother. His ‘Nemi. His sweet, protective older brother who won’t stop screaming his tears and wrecking the training grounds. Genya is scared. He’s completely terrified that maybe this is the breaking point. That Sanemi won’t be able to take anything more after this.

Genya doesn’t say it out loud, but thinks his brother is going to kill himself.

Death, as always, drives people apart. It’s the catalyst, the very foundation of loss. The Hashira are not exempt to this.

Sanemi and Obanai are not exempt to this. Tragedy breeds resentment and resentment only grows. They push each other away. It feels too wrong, too out of place to be together, to be in the same room, to eat the same meal. There’s something missing. There will always be something missing.

There is no messy eater sitting between them at dinner. There is no quiet chuckles during their bickering. There is no half-read book sitting on their nightstand, there is no extra pair of shoes at their door, there is no soft whispers of I love you both before they drift to sleep.

There is no Tomioka. There will never be Tomioka again.

And without Tomioka, they don’t think there can be a them.

At the urgent orders of their master, the remaining Hashira take shifts keeping diligent eyes on the wind and snake pillars. It’s not an order they need- the growing concern among them is enough.

Rengoku and Tengen train with Sanemi. Mitsuri drags Obanai along to a picnic at her estate every other day. Himejima visits them both every morning, meal, and night to pray. Shinobu sits in silence, or watches from a spot in the trees, any chance she gets.

Tanjiro writes to the two pillars daily. He might not have had the best impression of them at first, but he knows loss intimately. He knows they are grieving. He is, too.

Genya reaches out to his brother as often as he can. Obanai, as well. Neither of them often answer the door. But he’s okay with just sitting outside and talking. Even if most times, he’s simply talking to himself.

Despite everything, despite it all, there is a certain truth to the universe. An end is a beginning and a beginning is an end. And Tomioka’s cycle does not end with him. Loss does not end, nor will it ever. it takes and it takes and it never stops taking.

Sanemi kills himself three weeks after Tomioka’s funeral. He lays down at his lover’s grave and sends his crow to apologize to Obanai. Genya is the first to find his body.

Obanai is not a strong man. He never has been. He has lost everything and everyone and he does not know how he’s made it this far in life. He gets the news of Sanemi’s death within the hour. And... he thinks this is it. He does not want to make it any further. Not when he’s alone, not like this.

Fearing for his child, Master Kagaya sends Tengen, the fastest of the Hashira, to the snake pillar’s estate at once.

When he arrives, Obanai is already swinging above a tipped over chair.

The two bodies are later buried on either side of Tomioka. Because there is no them if it is not all three.