Wisteria and the Flame - Chapter 9: Exposed
N/A: This fic takes place in the world of KNY, but I’ve made a few changes, so it won’t follow the canon story exactly, and the world may work a little differently from the manga and anime.
* Reader x Rengoku. Slow burn
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*KNY characters and KNY world belong to it's rightful owner.
Prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8
The wisteria petals proved effective on your other wounds. By nighttime, when Shinobu changed your bandages again, the injuries already looked noticeably better.
“Just as I suspected,” Shinobu murmured while examining them carefully. “Your body reacts to demon cells… and demon cells react to wisteria.”
She carefully adjusted the bandage around your arm. “The main wound seems to be the key to everything.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “As I understand it, your entire body has recognized demon cells since birth.”
“Wisteria shouldn’t affect humans this way,” Shinobu said quietly. “Yet your body responds to it almost instinctively.”
She looked at your arm thoughtfully.
“It calms the main wound… and somehow stimulates the healing of the rest.”
“Great,” you muttered dryly, rolling your eyes. “So I really am a weirdo after all.”
Shinobu smiled faintly while writing another note.
“You know,” she said softly, “I haven’t seen you smile once since you arrived here.”
Your brow furrowed slightly.
“And yet,” Shinobu continued, glancing at you briefly, “you’ve already had several opportunities to.”
“Even because of your own sarcasm.”
You looked away. “Do you really think so?” you murmured quietly. “I haven’t found a reason to smile yet.”
Shinobu’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. “Maybe you're too focused on the trees to see the forest”
You weren't entirely sure what she meant.
You woke up in the middle of the night, shivering slightly. Something felt wrong, missing.
Silence. The crow’s usual spot beside the window was empty.
Right. He had left together with Kyojuro for that long mission.
Your fingers tightened around the wisteria branch instinctively. It no longer carried Kyojuro’s scent and the realization left an uncomfortable emptiness inside your chest.
Then your mind returned to that brief moment earlier. The subtle shift in Kyojuro’s expression when Shinobu mentioned the burned temple. Your stomach tightened....What if… No. It couldn’t be. Could it? As the Flame Hashira, perhaps he could discover things villagers couldn’t tell to Shinazugawa’s crow.
But how many years had passed since then? Would anything even remain? You swallowed hard, feeling a little bit dizzy.
…And why were you so afraid? It wasn’t your fault. Right?
It wasn’t your fault. But if traces still remained there after all this time… then it would become your word against the evidence. And as the only person who survived that night… you already knew which side people would believe.
Time passed slowly and dully. For the first time in years, you found yourself waiting for someone. Steps echoing through the corridor. Wings flapping somewhere in the gardens. Soft voices drifting into your light sleep. You had lived alone for years, and yet… you had never felt time wrap itself around your heart so tightly, dragging you into a hollow kind of loneliness.
Day by day, your bond with Shinobu grew stronger. Slowly and carefully. The two of you were alike in that sense: both had something to gain… and something to lose. So there were still words left unspoken between you.
The urge to move became impossible to ignore. You had always been an active person. If there was work to do, you did it. If there wasn't, you found something else to occupy your hands. Resting had never been a habit. It was something you allowed yourself only when the pain became impossible to endure.
Now, your right arm had healed enough already. At the very least, you could practice holding your sword again, even if only from bed. Your belongings rested on a small table near the end of the room. Carefully, you shifted toward the edge of the mattress. One leg first. Then the other. You waited a moment before lowering yourself down, your fingers gripping the mattress tightly for support.
You found yourself thinking about all the times you had nearly fallen lately.
The sudden jolt of panic when you realized you were losing your balance. Followed by the surprise of strong, warm arms catching you before you hit the ground.
If you fell now, no one would be there to catch you this time. You immediately pushed the thought away.
It shouldn't matter. You had spent your entire life relying on yourself.
And yet… For some reason, the idea left a strange emptiness behind.
Once you were sure you could remain standing, you began moving slowly through the room, using the walls and furniture for support. Step by step. The fact that you hadn’t fainted encouraged you slightly, and eventually your movements became a little steadier.
“Already movin’, huh? Need to go somewhere?”
You were only a few steps away from your backpack.
The sudden voice at the doorway startled you hard enough to break your balance instantly. Your foot slipped. Pain exploded through your body the moment you hit the floor. Your head throbbed.
Your left arm burned as though hundreds of heated needles had pierced beneath the skin at once. Fresh red stains slowly bloomed through the bandages.
Anger curled your fingers into fists while you forced yourself upright again, carefully keeping your expression blank.
“You’re not welcome here,” you said coldly. “I thought we made that clear last time.”
“Huh?” Shinazugawa leaned casually against the doorway, sounding almost amused. “This is the infirmary, isn’t it? I came because I need treatment for a wound.”
“I’m not Shinobu, am I? Go look for her, then.”
Internally, you prayed he would leave. Your mood was already hanging by a thread. The last thing you needed was Shinazugawa standing there provoking you again. You refused to look weak in front of him And even more than that, you refused to lose control.
Sanemi’s gaze locked onto the blood spreading through the bandages around your left arm.
“Tch. Still bleedin’?” He tilted his head slightly. “What happened? Demon bite you?” His eyes sharpened immediately after. “’Cause that would explain a lot.”
You forced yourself to remain still.
“I just fell to the floor while already injured,” you replied coldly. “That explains enough.”
Sanemi clicked his tongue softly. “Does it?”
“Sanemi!” Shinobu’s voice cut through the room smoothly before he could continue. “Long time no see.” She smiled pleasantly. “How’s Sorai doing?”
You hated how relieved you felt hearing her voice. A part of you longed for someone to rely on. Another part immediately feared the consequences of it.
“I’m here for treatment,” Sanemi scoffed, finally turning his back on you. “And if ya threaten Sorai again, En’s gonna be the one needin’ it next.”
Shinobu’s smile never changed. But her eyes definitely did. Her gaze dropped briefly to the cut bleeding along Sanemi’s side.
“That only needs a few stitches,” she said calmly. “It won’t take long. Come on.”
She turned toward the corridor, and Sanemi followed after her with an irritated click of his tongue.
Before leaving, Shinobu glanced back at you one last time. It wasn’t a warning about Sanemi. It was about your bleeding arm. And about the fact that you were clearly thinking of doing something reckless.
Still, you took advantage of already being near your belongings to retrieve your sword. Shinobu was already pissed with you anyway. One more reason wouldn’t make much difference.
Slowly, you made your way back toward the bed, relying mostly on your right arm and using the sheathed sword almost like a cane. By the time you sat down again, your breathing had become uneven from the effort alone.
Your fingers curled instinctively around the handle. You needed to keep practicing with your right arm while winter lasted. Before the spring solstice came.
Mother had been right-handed. Lucky. But you had been born naturally left-handed. So when you decided to learn the sword… you had been forced to divide your training between both hands from the very beginning.
“You took your sword.” Shinobu approached with fresh medicine and clean bandages. “Why am I not surprised?”
“The Wind Hashira is gone,” she continued calmly. “For now.” Then her eyes shifted briefly toward your left arm. “But don’t forget what Tengen said. He’ll keep coming back until he gets what he wants.” Shinobu raised one eyebrow slightly while preparing the medicine. “So our job is making sure he doesn’t.”
Your grip around the sword tightened faintly. “I’m trying my best to behave,” you muttered. “But there’s something about him that makes me angry, and I don’t even know why.”
“He’s an angry person.” There was no mockery in her voice this time “He had a very difficult past.”
She kept preparing the medicines, adding some ingredients you hadn’t seen before.
“But many of us did.” She added after a pause. Her expression sharpened slightly. “And most of us learned not to throw our burdens onto others.”
“Anyway…” Shinobu adjusted the bottles and bandages beside her. “You’ll have to excuse me.” For the first time since entering the room, she sounded slightly hesitant.
“I studied your mother’s medicine.”
Your eyes lifted immediately toward her.
“I’m sorry,” she added calmly before you could speak. “I should have asked for your permission first… But the nature of my work made me… very interested in it.” Shinobu lowered her gaze briefly to the notebook in her hands. “I’ve been thinking about a few modifications.” Then she looked back at you. “Would you allow me to try them on the main wound?”
Her voice softened slightly. “I’ll understand if you refuse.”
You were tempted to say no. Part of you felt betrayed. Mother’s medicine was one of the few things that still belonged only to the two of you. Dealing with others had a price, and that one was really high.
The more people entered your life, the less control you seemed to have over it.
And yet… Shinobu had helped your other wounds heal. She had bought you time to prepare yourself. She had protected you from Shinazugawa. Slowly, your fingers loosened around the sword handle.
“…Okay.” You looked away before adding quietly: “Let’s do this.”
Your small trip from the bed to your belongings, despite the unfortunate fall afterward, was apparently enough to convince Shinobu to finally allow you into the garden.
Feeling fresh air again helped ease some of the anxiety that had been tightening inside your chest for days. Slowly, you began taking short walks through the estate grounds, stopping often to observe the plants growing beneath the snow. The warmth of the winter sun against your skin, the cold snow beneath your feet, birds chirping in the distance, even the estate cat purring beside you, all of it felt strangely close to heaven. And somehow, it helped your recovery more than medicine alone.
One morning, you crushed your breakfast bread into small crumbs before sitting outside on the engawa. The pale winter sunlight felt pleasant against your face. You scattered the crumbs around yourself and lifted your gaze toward the sky, searching for the morning birds. But instead, to your annoyance, you spotted the Wind Hashira sitting atop a tree outside the estate walls. Close enough for you to notice him. Close enough for him to notice you. Your jaw tightened. Didn’t he have anything better to do?
Refusing to let him disturb your peace, you closed your eyes and focused on breathing slowly. It took longer than usual with him watching nearby, but eventually several small birds gathered around you for breakfast.
Little by little, you also found yourself observing the triplets’ games more attentively. Memorizing the rules. The constant laughter, the hugs, the playful pushing and tickling… it all felt painfully different from the life you had known. In your world, love and happiness had existed too. But they had always carried a different meaning.
That day, the girls were playing with a colorful temari ball. Although your legs still felt clumsy from the healing wounds, you eventually gave in and joined them. The first throw landed directly in the snow. But you managed to catch the second one. The triplets quickly explained the rules, and you learned the game with surprising ease. A strange warmth settled quietly inside your chest.
It was the kind of simple joy you had longed for as a child. The kind Mother had never allowed.
Eventually, the ball landed in your hands again. You prepared to throw it toward Sumi, but suddenly, something shifted at the edge of your vision. Your head lifted instinctively. Shinazugawa.
Again. This time resting lazily atop the infirmary roof. Your focus broke instantly. The ball slipped from your hands and rolled far away through the snow instead of reaching Sumi. The little girl looked at you with an adorable pout, completely unaware of what had distracted you.
It was Tengen who picked up the ball before it disappeared into the snow. With an easy grin, he tossed it back toward Sumi.
Then he waved at you casually. You waved back. Not smiling exactly… but not annoyed either.
With Shinazugawa constantly lurking nearby, you had slowly begun to think Tengen wasn’t that bad after all.
“Someone’s going to be happy seeing how much she’s improved,” Tengen commented while watching you from the engawa.
Shinobu followed his gaze briefly. A faint smile softened her expression. “I think so too.” Then she glanced sideways at him. “He asked you to keep an eye on her, didn’t he?”
“Yup. Of course he did.” Tengen crossed his arms loosely. “Especially after the way that meeting ended.” A brief silence followed. Then his expression shifted slightly. More serious this time.
“Kocho… there’s something about Shinazugawa’s behavior that’s making me uneasy.”
Shinobu’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
“I heard you two exchanged a few words,” Tengen continued. “But he’s still hanging around here every single day when he could just let Sorai handle the surveillance.”
“En and I also exchanged a few words with Sorai,” Shinobu replied dryly.
Tengen snorted softly. “Yeah, but that’s not the point.” His gaze drifted briefly toward the infirmary roof. “Crows have been sent and received since the very beginning.” A pause. “Do you think there’s a chance he already knows something he hasn’t told the rest of us?”
“Ah…” Shinobu hummed thoughtfully. “How could I possibly know? The wind is notoriously unpredictable.”
Tengen stared at her for a second longer. “You know it’s not that simple.” For once, there was no teasing left in his voice. “As Hashira, and as people, we all have different opinions.” His expression hardened slightly. “But this time, I think Shinazugawa’s crossing a line.” Another pause. “And despite my patience… I’d really like to know why.”
Shinobu avoided his gaze “Yes, me too”
Kyojuro was returning from his mission thoughtful, silent, and unusually without his usual smile.
He planned to stop by his home before heading to headquarters to deliver his report. It wasn’t the standard procedure. But then again, this had never been a standard mission.
Demons. He had killed several during the journey back. But those were not the demons he had truly gone searching for. The ones he sought were far harder to see. They lingered in burned wood, in broken remains, in scars left behind long after flames had died. They changed shape depending on who remembered them. Yet in the end, all of them carried something disturbingly similar.
The temple ruins still clung stubbornly to his mind. The smell of ash. Melted wood. Burn marks that years of snow and rain had failed to erase completely. Something about the place felt wrong.
The shape of the destruction. The violence written into the remains of the buildings. Small fragments of frost-covered clay scattered unnaturally far from the main ruins. Even the graves troubled him. There were fewer than there should have been. Far fewer, considering the number of residents and guests the temple records had listed back then.
Some villagers, former Kakushi, and nearby families still remembered a mother and daughter who had lived at the temple during its final year and a half. Quiet. Polite. Efficient. They moved everywhere together. That description fit you disturbingly well. Perhaps that was the information Shinazugawa had received. You were alive. Your mother was missing. And in a tragedy like that, most people naturally focused on the survivor. Especially when so many others who had lived or stayed at the temple remained unnamed even years later.
Guests. Travelers. Temporary residents. The temple had sheltered many people. Kyojuro exhaled slowly. Shinazugawa had probably become so focused on you that he forgot to ask about the guests.
Arriving at the crossroads leading toward the Butterfly Estate, Kaname suddenly began acting restless. He flew lower than usual, circling anxiously around his master.
“Go ahead, buddy,” Kyojuro said with the faintest trace of a smile. “Let’s surprise her once again.”
Kaname immediately shot toward the estate.
Kyojuro’s chest tightened. He had missed you, but now that you were only minutes away… he wasn’t sure he truly wanted to see you yet. Would he even be capable of smiling naturally? Part of him wished Kaname would simply stay beside you while he returned home first.
Just for a little while. Long enough to think. Long enough to understand what exactly he had discovered. Long enough to decide whether he even should tell anyone.
Then he heard frantic wings cutting through the air. Kaname was flying back toward him. Far too fast. Your name echoed repeatedly through the crow’s panicked cries.
Kyojuro immediately broke into a sprint. The closer he got to the Butterfly Estate, the louder the sounds became. Steel crashing violently. Wood splintering apart. Wind bursting through the garden in sharp green flashes… and purple. Wisteria-purple light.
No. His heartbeat stumbled violently. No, it couldn’t. He pushed himself faster.
Then suddenly… silence. The clash of blades stopped all at once.
By the time Kyojuro crossed the estate entrance, the air itself still trembled from the aftermath of the fight.
Broken wood. Snow scattered across the ground. Deep cuts carved violently into the earth by wind.
And there… his breath caught.
You were kneeling in the snow with your back facing him. One hand pressed desperately against your left arm. Trembling. Your breathing shallow and uneven. Blood stained the snow beneath your knees.
A few meters away stood the Wind Hashira, breathing heavily with his sword still stained red.
For the first time in days, Kyojuro forgot how to smile.
Then you sensed him. Your entire body froze instantly. Slowly… you turned your head just enough to look at him standing there. And the expression in your eyes hurt him far more than the blood. Fear. Not fear of pain. Not fear of Shinazugawa. Fear of him seeing you like that.
Your fingers tightened violently around the torn bandages.
Then, wisteria-purple light exploded across the garden.
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