Disclaimer:

I do not own nor claim all the rights to 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer; all rights are reserved to its respective creator, Koyoharu Gotōge. This is purely a work of fiction; names, characters, businesses, events, localities, and occurrences are all extrapolated from the author's writings and imagination or utilized in a fictitious manner. As such, any direct or indirect references to actual entities, dead or alive, or events do not, in any shape or form, resemble the opinions of the author.

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"..." = Dialogue

'...' = Internal monologues

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Sabito

CRACK

The upper portion of my blade was suddenly slit open; it detached from the rest of the sword.

And it failed to cut through the Hand Demon's defenses around the neck...

Fuck.

"HAHAH!!! YOU FOOL, NOTHING CAN CUT THROUGH MY HEAD!!!" The ugly, deplorable creature wallowed in this triumph.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

I FAILED!

THIS BASTARD KILLED MAKOMO, AND I FAILED TO DECAPITATE HIS FUCKING HEAD!

I FAILED!!!

I failed!

I failed...

I failed Makomo...

Makomo...

A great pang of grief and guilt stings the inner sanctum of my heart.

Makomo...

She died because of my incompetence and inability to protect her...

I'm so weak...

Makomo...

I could feel a wetness in my eyes. My chest aches and my head is spinning in circles.

I already miss her very much.

I couldn't bear the thought. I'm just seconds away from dying myself, but all I can think about is you, Makomo—all I can think about is your death, not mine.

I love you... You were my everything... I'm sorry I couldn't tell you earlier...

It just... It just hurts so much. I will never be able to tell you again...

Makomo...

Despair was encroaching upon my soul, submerging it in a sea of sorrow at the mere thought of her.

I teetered between unbridled malice towards all and subdued sadness within the self.

I felt like crying, letting go of everything, and drowning myself in a cascade of woeful tears—however unmanly or unwarrior-like it may be.

I let her die...

"SABITO!!!"

As if reality had beckoned my full attention for one last time, I was roused from my little self-deprecating reverie at the sound of a voice.

My eyes glance over to the source.

It was Giyuu.

"No... No... Don't..." He pleads.

His countenance expressed sheer terror of the highest magnitude.

He seemed to be frightened beyond doubt, frightened about what was about to occur next.

Giyuu... That's right, he's still alive...

He's still alive.

That alone gave consolation to my spirit. At least the memories of the three of us will live on within him...

Ah, the memories...

The three of us training together, Giyuu and I arguing over something pointless, Makomo having to act as our babysitter in every instance, the conversations or banters we would have while sitting around the fire pit and eating rice gruel, and the late-night discussions as we tried to sleep—assuming we weren't already sleeping from exhaustion...

Yeah, that was really fun.

I enjoyed it... I enjoyed it a lot.

I'm sure Makomo and Giyuu did as well.

Just reminiscing about them is a joy. Having the two of them and Urokodaki-sensei in my life is something I will forever be grateful for.

Urokodaki-sensei is the parent I never had; he brought me in and raised me as his own. I respect this man more than anyone.

Makomo is someone I cherish... She's always supported me, always been honest with me, and was always kind to me. Without her guidance, I wouldn't have become the man I am today. My feelings for her never wavered and never will. I just wish I had more time with her...

Giyuu, you are my best friend. I think the amusing nature of our interactions speaks for itself, as we are the kind of friends to insult each other one second before lending a hand the next. But I have and will forever value our friendship.

There was never a day when I regretted the bonds we formed together.

I guess dying right now isn't too bad, after all...

Ah right, Giyuu's going to blame himself for this, isn't he?

He also feels guilty for Makomo... Since I made him take that oath to protect her if I ever die... It was selfish of me to make him agree to something even I couldn't uphold.

I can't say much with what little time I have left...

I have to say something, something that will hopefully remind him that none of this is his fault, that he's free to live his life without the burden of this guilt—because he was never responsible for any of this.

Something to say that I'm sorry...

I look at him directly in the eyes.

"No... please don't... Please!" Giyuu whimpers.

It's ok, Giyuu.

Then, the corner of my mouth curved upward.

It will be all right.

Time was moving ever slowly in these passing moments. As I harken back to the memories of our bonds and friendship, I couldn't help but feel something warm in my chest.

I smile.

"Thank you..." I say softly.

SLIT

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"The last thing he saw with these eyes... was your face..." Zaiaku-kan said weakly.

The atmosphere, in lieu of its antecedent oppressive grip, was now more hushed and somber in tone.

Zaiaku-kan's voice itself was very still and melancholic, attesting to how the general tension—or lack thereof—in the area translated into the calmness of his voice.

Soft wisps of a cool breeze gently wafted through the air, tickling the calloused and contused skins of both combatants.

The Demon of Guilt, still morphed into the physical incarnation of Sabito, was lying supine on the ground—completely and utterly bloodied, bruised, and irreparably exhausted.

Giyuu, similarly, was around 20 feet (6 meters) away, also lying on his back and wheezing heavily from weariness as he endured the intense discomfort of his bloodied and battered body.

Both had incurred a host of life-threatening injuries and a terrible loss of blood. It's almost a miracle they weren't dead already—although, that may be because they stubbornly refuse to die.

Zaiaku-kan had numerous lacerations across his torso and limbs, a perforated shoulder and shoulder blade, a missing left forearm, a gouged-out eyeball, numerous broken bones, and many more.

Giyuu had gashes along his torso and limbs, blood spattered across his bruised forehead and temples, half of a sword—with the hilt and the bottom half of the actual blade—still impaled into his abdomen, the Kissaki (Point) component of the same fractured blade stuck to his shoulder, and much more.

Neither was in any condition to fight; they were both out of strength and breath, with their respiratory systems reactively inhaling and exhaling violently.

Indeed, they were reclining against a pool of blood growing beneath them.

Still, Zaiaku-kan spoke: "If the last thing burned into these eyes had been the enemy... everything would've been so much easier..."

*HACK* *HACK*

He coughed out blood.

Giyuu, meanwhile, was struggling to not choke on his own blood.

But Zaiaku-kan continued, "Instead, his final moments were filled with the memories of his two best friends... He did not die in despair or hatred, but merely thankful for the life he was given..."

"Still..." he added solemnly. "The face etched into that image made him feel most responsible for what happened then... and for what happened to you since..."

Giyuu was still gasping for air, and, therefore, did not respond. Zaiaku-kan, however, could tell that the Water Hashira was closely listening in on every single one of his words.

"You had every reason to hate the world. Why don't you?" Zaiaku-kan asked.

"..."

"You wanted to save them, didn't you? You wanted to protect them, didn't you?? You must've wanted to save them more than anyone..." Zaiaku-kan pressed.

"..."

"So then if you kill the very friend you've always wanted to save all along, then where does that leave you?" Zaiaku-kan spoke ominously.

"..."

"Do you have what it takes to kill me?"

"... Yes..." Giyuu mumbles in a strained manner, which is indicative of his beleaguered physical state.

Zaiaku-kan gritted his teeth, "You fool! You can't! You can't kill me! Even if you had the audacity to kill Sabito, I could still regenerate by turning back into a formless being! I could kill you just as easily now!!!!"

*HACK* *HACK*

More blood expunged from the clogged tubes in his body.

"..." Giyuu, on the other hand, didn't answer.

He was still attempting to undertake methodological, concentrated patterns to his respire in order to invoke the Enhanced Recovery breathing technique—which permits him to slowly coagulate the blood and close up any serious wounds.

"Even if you did defeat me, you would still lose against Utsuro! No one can defeat him! NO ONE! I've fought him too many times to finally understand that basic fact!! IT'S HOPELESS!" The Demon of Guilt was incensed at the illogical mindset of his opponent.

In his mind, there was no recourse to this situation; his family shall forever be cursed by the words of Izanami. Even if one had the god-like powers of time and space, the Curse of Izanami still wouldn't surrender its grip over the family.

The situation was hopeless for a reason.

"..." And yet, Giyuu still refused to respond.

*Shuffle*

Zaiaku-kan slowly tried to pull himself up, though he struggled and staggered about while doing so.

"So why... Why? Why do you resist the pain?! Why won't you despair?! Why won't you give up, Giyuu?!" he cried out.

On a superficial level, Zaiaku-kan was demanding the Water Hashira's total capitulation. However, somewhere deep within him, this was a cry for help—a cry for guidance, for answers to a question he failed to come to terms with himself, and for a ray of hope that he desperately wanted to cling onto.

Because, whether he likes it or not, the Demon of Guilt doesn't want to believe that it was all hopeless—he still harbored the vestiges of that naive, childish optimism that wished to save his own family.

Giyuu exhaled deeply, temporarily halting his Enhanced Recovery technique and the corresponding, conspicuous suspiring.

"Why? Because I already had..." he finally speaks.

"..." Zaiaku-kan was silent.

"After Sabito and Makomo died, nothing felt right... I couldn't sleep because of the neverending nightmares, I didn't drink much water because it reminded me of the blood, and I would vomit out food because the thought of their corpses made me sick to the stomach. I would incessantly wash my hands because I would see their blood on my palms," Giyuu explained grimly.

"..."

"I didn't want to remember... because my tears would never stop... The only thing to take my mind off the pain was by training nonstop and killing demons without rest..."

"I felt like I was living a false life... A life only made possible by borrowing the lives of not only my best friends but also my sister... I was clearly trying to kill myself..." he added faintly.

"..."

"Becoming a Hashira only made that worse, because I knew Sabito and Makomo were more well-qualified for the position than me. I didn't think of myself worthy of being Hashira; I thought I was wrongfully stealing from its rightful bearers..." Drops of Blood seeped from Giyuu's face, occluding his vision, but he remained steadfast in his soliloquy.

"Thoughts crept into my mind. 'Why won't you avenge them? You're responsible, after all. You can put an end to everything by piercing that chest with a sword...'"

"..."

"And I almost did..." Giyuu recalled, images of that night still etched into heads—including images of a young Shinobu.

The same stream of breeze lightly drifted through the air again, caressing their skins and cooling their minds.

*Shuffle*

It was then that Giyuu also attempted to hoist himself up, albeit in a very rough and uneven fashion—stumbling around, and nearly falling back down himself, in this endeavor.

He grunted in pain as trickles of blood flowed down from his wounds and onto the ground.

"You... are just like me..." Giyuu pointed out, much to the surprise and consternation of Zaiaku-kan.

"The guilt that grapples you isn't the death of your mother, but the death of your entire family... I imagine, as the eldest son, you felt obligated to look out for them... Even if you failed... Even after death..." He expounds.

Zaiaku-kan lowered his gaze, seemingly out of discomfort at such an analysis—confirming Giyuu's observations.

Giyuu carried on, "That's why you can't kill me, yet you point your sword at me. That's why you slash not me, but yourself. That's why you seek a revenge that would hurt you far more than cutting yourself... Because you're just broken and lost as I was... and you feel just as guilty as I have..."

"..."

"You empathized with Sabito, didn't you? You felt his pain, his feelings, his happiness, his sadness, and his loss... And, when fighting me, you saw yourself within me..."

Zaiaku-kan's expression hardened.

"You want me to give up? Well too bad," Giyuu declared firmly. "Until you fall, and until you stop, I'll stand up as many times as it takes..."

"..."

Giyuu finally had a solid footing to stand on, "Because I'm not you. I can't give up here. I have something to protect now. That's all the reasoning I need."

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"I was, always have been, and always will be in love with you, Tomioka Giyuu..." she beamed with brightness.

..

"Even if I have to walk over my friend's corpse, I'll do whatever I need to protect what I love," he said with unwavering willpower.

Zaiaku-kan's visage suddenly relaxed upon hearing that.

"Because even if the pain is part of who I am, I won't let it define me; I won't let it dominate my life. At least, that's what Sabito, Makomo, and Nee-san would've wanted... That's what Shinobu wants to see in me..." Giyuu spoke tenderly of her.

..

"There isn't a gaping hole anymore. Because you're here with me..."

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"I have to become a better man for her... I have to protect her..." he added softly.

"Why..." Zaiaku-kan interjected. "Why is that all the reasoning you need?"

Giyuu looked up, finally meeting his opponent face-to-face.

He then conjured up an expression brimming with determination and a tenacious resolve, "Because that's just who I am... The son of Tsukiko and Isao, brother of Tomioka Tsutako, and disciple of Urokodaki Sakonji..."

"I am the Water Hashira, Tomioka Giyuu," he asserts, his eyes did not avert nor did his spirit waver in the slightest.

He spoke with the utmost confidence.

Zaiaku-kan's eyes instinctively widened.

This man was, by all accounts, crazy. He refuses to give in, even when all the odds are stacked against him.

The Demon of Guilt has no reason to place his faith within these two Hashiras.

And yet, he wants to...

He wants to believe again, to entertain the idea that this vicious cycle of curses can be finally broken.

Why?

Perhaps it's because he sees something different within them. Their faith in each other, their steadfast determination, and their willingness to overcome the trials and tribulations of their past and future.

Perhaps... there is hope.

He could leave it to them, after all—to finish what he started.

Maybe it was time to let go of this burden, to finally admit defeat.

Zaiaku-kan hasn't found an answer to his questions, but he has found a glimmer of hope that he can irrationally depend on.

Maybe that's the whole point of faith; there's no rhyme or reason behind it, it's something to cling onto—to aspire towards, especially when you have no alternatives.

Indeed, it was time to let go...

Let go of the burden, the pain, the memories, the suffering, the fear, the sorrow, the shame, and the guilt... Let go of his family, even if he's the eldest child.

"I think, from what I've seen, heard, felt, and experienced through his memories, Sabito would have forgiven you without hesitation... He never blamed you for any wrongdoing.... He's a good friend, Water Hashira, Tomioka Giyuu," Zaiaku-kan smiled warmly.

Giyuu's eyes dilated with genuine shock, but he was quick to acknowledge it fully.

The Water Hashira smiled, "Thank you... Junnosuke..."

After all these years, after all the suffering, regrets, and sadness, he needed to hear those words.

They were not only a testament to Sabito's forgiveness, but also Makomo's as well.

His comrades have forgiven him. Now, he needed to forgive himself, like his dear Shinobu wanted.

"Now then... shall we finish this?" Zaiaku-kan stated.

"Yes," Giyuu raised his Nichirin Blade, although that alone expended a great deal of effort already.

"Let's end this."

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Makomo abruptly stood up, taking notice of something.

"Makomo-san...?" Shinobu questioned.

"They did it," Makomo answered in astonishment.

"What did they do? Is Giyuu ok? Did he win??" The Insect Hashira frantically inquired.

As she stared into the distance, Makomo grinned radiantly, "It's all going to be okay now..."

Hearing this, Shinobu's spirits were lifted: "Oh thank god... Giyuu is going to be okay... Thank god..."

"Can you walk?" Makomo states.

"Yeah... just barely though," Shinobu groaned as she struggled to upraise herself.

"Take your time," Makomo reassures calmly, "it's not too far from here."

"Thank you, Makomo-san..." Shinobu suddenly communicated appreciation.

"Oh, no need to. It's always socially responsible to look out for the disabled, after all," Makomo grins, possibly misconstruing Shinobu's comment completely.

"No, I... I mean that I'm grateful for what you've done for Giyuu... You mean a lot to him, and I think he's happier thanks to the bonds that tie you both..." Shinobu clarified, albeit there were hints of dither in her voice—even if her pure intentions were good and without deceit.

Makomo couldn't help but be amused, "I'm sure our friendship holds great value to him... But I think you mean much more in the present."

Shinobu widened her eyes in response.

"Giyuu has always looked to the past whether it be to reminisce about happy memories or remind himself about the tragedies... But, I think, with you by his side, he will find joy in the present. So it should be me thanking you," Makomo cheerfully elucidated.

Makomo's remarks breathed life into Shinobu's spirits, inducing her to evoke a more palpable expression of liveliness.

"Thank you, Makomo-san," Shinobu repeated with a smile.

"And thank you, Shinobu-san... Take care of Giyuu for us, okay?" Makomo returned.

With the mismatched haori held in her right hand, Shinobu glanced at the piece of cloth.

In just one of many ways, their haoris represented their shared beliefs—with the Insect Hashira accoutered in the haori of Kanae, and the Water Hashira donning the haoris of Tsutako and Sabito. She and him are similar in the sense that they were both burdened by the perceived obligations of the past.

They were drawn into the past because they assumed that there was nothing awaiting them in the future.

But, alas, it was within these hollow shells that were they able to appreciate each other profoundly; they have come to understand that their future lies within the other, and that their purpose is each other.

Indeed, it is for this reason that they have discerned romantic feelings for each other.

Shinobu loves Giyuu unconditionally, and Giyuu loves Shinobu deeply—and vice versa.

With their confession of passionate love, they have certified what had been lingering in their minds: the dual desire to stay alongside the other now and forever.

Shinobu looked back up, her face brimming with firmness but also an animated expression of a maiden in love, "Of course."

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Giyuu comported himself and focused his attention.

Subsequently, he invoked the tenets of the Total Concentration Breathing procedure, taking a deep—but not too great—breath inward and accruing a great deal of oxygen.

Zaiaku-kan, conversely, remained defenseless; he appeared to not even be making an active effort to proactively elude or fend off Giyuu's attack.

But the Water Hashira did not question it.

After all, there was a tacit understanding that this battle ought to end—an agreement that Giyuu had ultimately won this confrontation.

Coming to terms with his guilt, he has defied Zaiaku-kan in more ways than one.

A subdued gust of wind rushed through the air.

And, along with it, came the relics of a bygone era—memories of a cherished past, full of friends, full of life, and full of the innocent happiness that once defined their worlds.

But, even as the wind died, the memories still lingered.

Because the bonds, the laughter, the smiles, the silly jokes, and the optimistic aspirations of a hopeful future that once existed... will never go away. They have existed, and, therefore, continue to exist.

That much, Giyuu knows, will never change.

WHOOSH

'Fifth Form...' Giyuu leaps into the air—deploying what little strength remained in his muscles to undertake this maneuver.

As he steadily approaches Zaiaku-kan, he stares directly into the face of his dear friend Sabito.

It was almost a cruel twist of fate for him to kill his best friend, even if that was merely a vassal created by the Demon of Guilt.

Yet, with Zaiaku-kan acquiring all of the memories and feelings of Sabito, Giyuu wonders if the spirit of his old friend had already manifested within that vassal.

So, in a sense, he would not only be killing Zaiaku-kan but also the residual soul of Sabito himself.

But even if that were true, Giyuu is determined to do whatever it takes to protect his beloved Shinobu—even if he has to trample on the decaying corpse of his friend and forsake the past, he will move on into the future with his head held high.

Still, it is always saddening to say farewell again.

'... Blessed Rain After the Drought..." Giyuu lops off the enemy's head in a single flowing strike.

Slash

Streams of sprinkles gently flowed through the air, like the morning dew coming to life.

A faint ray of lustrous sunshine shone brilliantly, permitting the recipient to bid a final farewell to the heavenly light beyond the surface.

With no pain incurred, this was the most merciful of the Breathing Techniques, since the user employs a 'sword strike of kindness' to an enemy that has willingly conceded.

And that is what Giyuu intended; he did not wish to see his friend suffer again.

As for Zaiaku-kan, he welcomed death with open arms.

The burdens of the past had finally been lifted off his shoulders, and his spirit was free to roam the afterlife without the heavy weight of his family's future.

A weight that he has entrusted to the Hashiras, and a future he can only hope is at last rendered guaranteed in whatever lies beyond.

It may be selfish of him, but he has endured the guilt over his family's demise—an intense guilt that had fueled his raging desire to somehow ensure that the family becomes whole again.

He has endured multiple timelines, killing his own siblings and father to achieve said timelines, and the massive loss of life directly caused by his actions.

He was, by no means, innocent. He knows that he is preordained to receive retribution for his sins.

But what he cared about more was that his Father again becomes the man he can only faintly remember from long ago.

That glimmer of hope, like those ephemeral images of a once-happy family, is what puts him at ease in these final seconds.

It was a gentle acceptance of his death—with malice towards none, and regret not proliferating within the self.

So close to death that for the first time, he opened himself to the gentle indifference of the world; Junnosuke felt that he was happy again.

*Thud*

Zaiaku-kan's decapitated head hits the floor.

Giyuu, meanwhile, alights softly on the ground—strands of that sprinkled water still flowing from the Kissaki (Point) of his Nichirin Blade.

"My father has a split personality... Use that to your advantage..." Junnosuke imparts one final message.

The Water Hashira, with his back against the slain enemy, merely nods.

"Leave it to me," he affirms.

And thus, Zaiaku-kan, the Demon of Guilt, was defeated; the enemy's body began to disintegrate.

Giyuu sighs heavily, relaxing his shoulders and stance in the process.

Blood still oozed out of his wounds, but the Water Hashira took notice of something interesting: the bottom half of the sword plunged deep into his abdomen and the shard transfixed to his shoulder were both dissipating as well—Zaiaku-kan's weapon was supposedly a byproduct of his powers.

Giyuu then loosened his grip over the hilt of his Nichirin Blade.

*Clatter*

As a result, he inadvertently released his hold of the blade, letting it fall to the ground.

He gazed at the crepuscular chamber with a stoic expression, not wanting to witness the decomposing body behind him.

There was this blanket of mist obstructing his vision, yet he continued to eyeball the ostensibly dull setting.

The unadulterated pain associated with his injuries was only now beginning to manifest, slowly but surely emerging spasmodically throughout his broken body.

It's possible he could die here.

No, he can't die here... He has someone waiting for him.

As he looked vacantly yonder, he took notice of two figures standing there.

Initially, he could only make out their outlines and not much else. But, as the cold sheet of mist slowly settled down, he was able to accurately describe their features.

He gawked at what he bore witness to.

It was Sabito and Makomo.

They were both beaming with warmth and geniality.

"Sabito... Makomo..." Giyuu uttered in his shock.

"Thank you, Giyuu," Makomo grinned widely.

Sabito, likewise, smiled and nodded in approval.

And so it was.

The spirits of Sabito and Makomo may finally rest easy. For, they need not fret about their cherished friend anymore. Because Tomioka Giyuu has found his peace, and, as such, his two best friends can too.

They may now confidently travel into the afterlife without worry.

The Water Hashira felt a lump in his throat and a moistness in his eyes.

But he suppressed it for now.

He instead reconciled with the image before him and with himself.

Giyuu kindly reciprocated with a smile of his own.

"Thank you..." he said, his voice quivering. "Thank you..."

He fell on his back, as he had depleted the remainder of his strength and energy.

*THUD*

His entire body collapsed onto the hard ground, lying supinated once more.

And, with each passing second, he was slowly losing consciousness.

He was starting to black out.

As he did, though, he heard a familiar voice beckoning him from afar.

"Giyuu!"

'Ah... Shinobu... I should probably apologize for leaving her alone...' Giyuu internally noted as he steadily slipped into a coma.

"Giyuu!!!"

'Shinobu... I want to see her face... She's so beautiful, so angelic... I have to thank her as well... I love her... I love her very much...'

He was already knocked out cold.

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Giyuu stood in this void of nothingness.

He felt... staid.

All of his wounds were magically gone, and his mind felt at ease.

Where was he?

"Giyuu..." he hears someone from behind.

He quickly turns around.

"Nee-san..." he whispered indistinctly.

Tsutako was situated just a few meters away from him.

"I'm so proud of you," she says emphatically.

Giyuu stared at her blankly, before giving way to a dour bearing and downcast eyes, "You shouldn't be..."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't cherish the life you sacrificed for... I didn't appreciate the life my best friends gave me... I've been so stupid..." Giyuu replies, dejected.

Tsutako merely smiled, "But you want to live life to its fullest now, don't you?"

Giyuu lifted his head, "... Yeah. Because she's with me."

"Then there's no reason to be ashamed. You're only human, someone who had to brave what life has thrown at you. You were just lost, like the rest of us. All you needed was some clarity, and you were able to find it," Tsutako reassures tenderly.

She beamed brightly, "And, because of that, I could not be more proud of you, Giyuu."

Giyuu continued to suppress the lump in his throat, "I'm sorry... Nee-san... I'm sorry for saying that I hate you... I never hated you..."

"I know."

"I never meant to hurt you... I never wanted that to be our final conversation..."

"I know."

"Nee-san... Please forgive me..." Giyuu said shakily.

"You don't need to apologize," she advanced towards him.

*Tug*

"You never needed to apologize," she embraced him in her arms.

"I love you, Giyuu. For you, a thousand times over," she hugged.

"I love you too, Nee-san..." Giyuu hugged back, the capricious heart—hitherto swaying between hatred and dolefulness—now achieving a resting state.

And with that, the young boy finally uttered the words he had always wanted to convey to his beloved sister.

Words that beseeched not just forgiveness but a reaffirmation of the love and bond that existed between brother and sister.

Because, that too will remain timeless.

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Giyuu was walking aimlessly, unsure of where exactly he was heading.

That is, until he heard the distant crackle of a fire.

Upon following its source, the lusterless light of a campfire was gradually disclosed to his line of sight.

There, a man was perched on a wooden log, staring directly into the fire.

As the Water Hashira approached this little encampment, he took the liberty of occupying another, adjacent wooden log himself.

He sat down and made himself comfortable.

*Crackle*

For a second, Giyuu looked fixedly at the fire, before turning to face his interlocutor.

The man was dressed in full military regalia, his face was cleanly shaven, and he appeared to be engaged in some deep contemplation.

His sharp eyes displayed brown irises of a hazel hue, and his black hair was almost identical to that of Giyuu's—with the exception that it was shorter and more scrupulously tidy.

If it were not for the neatly-tied hair, the different eye color, and the military uniform, it's certainly possible for Giyuu to assume that he was looking at a mirror image of himself—the two of them share a shocking resemblance to each other.

In fact, this was the first time he had ever attentively scrutinized this man to such a degree; he hadn't been made aware of his physical features in the past, especially considering how he was the spitting image of Giyuu himself.

Without having to solely rely on the recollections of the bearded, disheveled man of the past, Giyuu could now make sense of this man's relation to him. At least, on the outside.

"Is that you, Giyuu?" The man spoke first.

His cadence evinced a very composed and calm deportment. Yet, he also articulated himself with authority and integrity.

The man had a very equanimous but worn-out mien, one that exuded the sense that he was someone who had seen all that life has to offer—the good and the bad.

A man humbled by what he was forced to experience.

Giyuu nodded in response to the man's query.

"Now that we're both here, we can finally talk," the man answers.

"Yeah... I want us to take our time," said Giyuu.

"That's fine," the man concurred.

"Well then, where to start?" Giyuu asks.

"Father."

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..

The atmosphere was soothing.

The air felt warm, like a blanket encasing one's lethargic body after a hard day of work.

The radiance of the sun imbued its strong, vibrant light into the home—comforting both the eyes and the spirit from any sources of absolute darkness.

A couple were perched along the edge of the Engawa floor extension, taking in the tranquil beauty of the environment.

The woman, in particular, adorned a large, round belly—a condition indicative of her pregnancy.

The man, meanwhile, was gently caressing the belly and expressing his fatherly love while doing so.

"Tsukiko..." he said solemnly.

"Hm?" Tsukiko hummed in response.

"Do you..." he struggled to get the words out. "Do you... regret marrying me?"

"Isao..." Tsukiko answered, astonished.

"You had to leave your family, leave your life of comfort, and marry some lowly soldier... What's more, the best I could do is build this mediocre house..." Isao looked down in shame.

"Isao," she tenderly placed her hand on his cheek, carefully prodding her husband's head back up. "I have never once, in all these past years, regretted anything."

"I have never regretted falling in love with you," she smiled. "Besides, this is a lovely home. We don't need a mansion or money to be happy."

"Tsukiko..." Isao answered, dumbfounded.

He then grinned himself, "I love you, my beloved."

"For you, a thousand times over... I love you too," she happily reciprocated.

Isao then leaned in for a kiss.

Following the osculation, Tsukiko reddened slightly, "You're always a bold one."

"You think so? I'm usually the shy one," Isao chuckled.

"And yet, you were the first to confess," Tsukiko reminisced.

"I guess you taught me a few things about taking the initiative," Isao winked.

"Oh, you!" Tsukiko giggled, awashed with embarrassment at the innuendo.

"Saying such naughty things about your wife..." She added coyly.

"Huh? I was talking about haggling over prices at the market. You really have to take the initiative in those situations, unless you want to get scammed," Isao said in confusion.

"... Eh?" Tsukiko forgot that her husband was a little thick-headed.

"Wait, did I misinterpret something?" Isao took notice of his wife's disappointment.

Tsukiko sighed, "No, it's fine. You didn't misinterpret anything. In fact, it was me who did."

"Was it the fish I purchased yesterday?" Isao brought up a seemingly random subject out of nowhere.

"Fi— Fish?" Tsukiko was utterly bewildered.

"Yeah, I accidentally paid 0.50 Yen for the salmon when I could've negotiated a lower price, so I wasn't decisive there," said Isao.

"I heard the market price was 0.45 Yen, so that's even worse..." he muttered.

"Fish?" Tsukiko was still at a loss.

"Oh, but don't worry, I'm usually tough around my unit. I think they already respect me as their commanding officer," the husband adduced pridefully.

"Oh dear," Tsukiko grinned widely, as she couldn't help but be amused by the misunderstanding—something that isn't too uncommon when it comes to her husband. "I'm not worried about the fish, Isao."

"You're not?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Then what were you talking about?"

"Not telling you~" Tsukiko teased.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because you look so cute when you're puzzled," she chaffed.

"... What?"

"Exactly my point~"

"Well, you're cuter," Isao replied plainly.

"You're awfully sweet today," Tsukiko proceeded to rest her head against his shoulder.

"But I'm not edible."

"In bed you are~" she whispers into his ear, already exploiting his cluelessness.

"Unless you're a canniba— oh wait a minute," he finally realized.

Tsukiko blushed, "I had to be very explicit with my words to make you realize, you know?"

"You were talking about the fish I purchased last week!"

"..."

"Tsukiko?"

"Oh no, it's nothing," she gave up.

"I misconstrued your words again, didn't I?" Isao acknowledged his shortcomings.

"Yes, but it doesn't matter," said Tsukiko.

"It doesn't?"

"Because after we have this one," she lightly touched her stomach, in direct reference to their unborn child, "I want to have another one."

Isao's cheeks flushed in response, "O-Oh... So that's what you were talking about..."

"Took you long enough," Tsukiko laughed softly.

"Ah... Sorry..." Isao replied sheepishly.

"Not at all," Tsukiko shook her head, "you look so innocent. That's partly why I fell in love with you, not counting how kind and sweet you are..."

"The fact you're willing to put up with my stupidity is something I'll be eternally grateful for," said Isao.

"It's not stupidity," Tsukiko disagreed, "it's more like cute bashfulness."

"You're cuter."

"Do you always have to respond with that?" Shades of pink appeared on Tsukiko's cheeks.

"Of course, it's an indisputable fact."

Tsukiko smiled broadly, "You're going to be a great father, you know that?"

"And you're going to be the perfect mother," Isao returned.

Tsukiko grinned with affection.

"By the way..." Isao then switched his gaze over to his wife's protruding stomach.

"What should we name the baby?" he asks.

"Hm... do you have any suggestions?" Tsukiko inquires.

Isao subsequently pats the aforementioned belly again, "If it's a boy, then 'Giyuu.'"

"And if it's a girl?" Tsukiko raises.

"... I'm not sure," Isao yields.

Tsukiko looks down at her miracle, "If it's a girl... then 'Tsutako.'"

"Sounds beautiful, just like your name," Isao raises his head back up.

"Giyuu is also a lovely name," Tsukiko replies in earnest.

"Yeah... It is..."

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*Crackle*

The wood slowly smoldered into a heap of ashes under the intense heat of the scorching flames.

As the two men sat in this dimly lit chasm, neither offered to express or disclose much of their feelings through their words, countenance, or tone of voice.

Reunions often are hard to navigate through.

"What was my mother like?" Giyuu inquired, breaking the transient period of silence.

Isao was visibly perturbed, but he obliged, "The most beautiful, kind, and endearing woman a man could have the privilege of marrying."

"She was everything to me..." he added faintly.

"... I see," Giyuu simply replied.

"Your mother, Tsukiko, was born into a well-off family. Meanwhile, I was the son of a carpenter. Obviously, our little love affair didn't please her father," Isao explained. "As such, we decided to elope. That's how an aristocratic, well-mannered lady married a regular foot soldier."

"How did you two meet?" Giyuu asks.

"We've known each other since we were kids..." Isao reminisced deeply.

"..." Giyuu was silent.

Isao continued, "My father used to work for Tsukiko's family, mostly by tending to maintenance services for their large estate—as he was a carpenter. Because I didn't attend school, I was compelled to work in the family business, so I would be shadowing my father at Tsukiko's abode."

"..."

"With nothing much to do aside from work, Tsukiko and I would do all sorts of things together. It got to the point where I would outright abandon my duties just to accompany her," the corners of Isao's mouth curved upward.

"I see..." Giyuu whispered.

"..."

"..."

The inherently reticent nature of both men made further dialogue a fleeting prospect.

To strike up a conversation with his estranged father, much less someone he's only interacted with amid the latter's drunken and deranged episodes, only serves to complicate this anomalous reunion to a greater extent.

Neither Giyuu nor Isao knew how to effectively communicate with each other as father and son, particularly when it comes to addressing the elephant in the room—Isao's conduct after Tsukiko's death.

Nonetheless, some things had to be said—regardless of how difficult it may be to discuss.

Giyuu knows this all too well.

It was only by speaking to Shinobu candidly and honestly was he able to clear up misunderstandings, allowing them to become closer than ever.

Which all culminated with the acknowledgment of their love for each other.

And now, he has this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn more about his family and, more importantly, about himself.

Bonds of blood are often the wellspring of one's fortunes and condition in life.

Only by having his father divulge the necessary information will Giyuu be able to more clearly understand the sister he has lost, the mother he has never met, and the father he has always despised.

That same father sitting right there.

"I had always wanted to ask you something..." Giyuu, again, took the lead.

Isao shifted his eyes to his son.

"Why did you abandon Tsutako Nee-san?" Giyuu stated with a little dither.

Isao revealed no conspicuous reaction to his son's statement, as he was likely aware that the discussion of such sensitive matters was inevitable.

He pressed on, "Why did you abandon the child of the wife you loved so dearly? Why did you deprive her of the father she looked up to? That she loved? Why did you... willingly choose to ignore her suffering?"

"..."

"She was patiently waiting for you, hoping for the day when our family would be reunited. She had sacrificed and endured so much... She had fought so hard, for so long. And it was all for the distant hope that her father would return to bring a semblance of that old life back again..." Giyuu's remarked dolefully, as the subject of his sister always elicits these strong feelings.

He continued, "With you gone and my mother dead, she toiled every day—desperately trying to make ends meet for both herself and her baby brother. I can vividly recall how she used to work late shifts at the factory, share her portion of the food with me, diligently look after the family property, and—most importantly—become the mother she had only recently lost just for my sake..."

"..." Isao looked back down with downcast eyes.

"But she did that all for that belief. The belief that the long-awaited return of her father would make everything worth it in the end. And yet, when he eventually did arrive, she was confronted with the cruel reality that her yearning for a family was but a naive, childish delusion. All because of a father who actively neglected his children emotionally and literally..." Giyuu spoke with bitterness.

"..."

"I hated your guts, you know that? Not because you gave me the cold shoulder, but because you made Nee-san sad... You were a failed parent whose actions put our family and reputation to shame. A model for what not to do. Because you had the gall to not love your children," said Giyuu.

"..."

"I was so bitter back then. To me, you were just a stranger who made Nee-san's life worse. But for her... you carried her hopes and dreams... and you threw it all away."

"..."

"Why?" Giyuu concluded with heartache.

"... What I'm about to tell you... will not exonerate and excuse my actions... I know that much," Isao addressed in advance.

"..." Giyuu did not respond.

Isao suspires quietly, "You may already know this... but I was the commander of a patrol boat during the 1894 War against the Manchus."

Giyuu nodded.

"Then you must know the incident... My boat swam directly and unknowingly into a torpedo mine, sinking the entire vessel. Every man was dead... except me..."

"..."

"Those were good men. People from all walks of life. The young conscripts and the older veterans, the reserved and the rambunctious, the intellectuals and the athletes, and more. Yet, they had a few things in common. They had a wife or a girl waiting back home, they had children, siblings, friends, family, interests, hobbies, and plans for life after the military. Conscripts as young as 18 were under my command..."

"..."

"And they all died."

"..."

"The shame of having an entire unit wiped out except for its commander... it was unbearable. A captain is supposed to go down with his ship, yet I was barely alive when a nearby ship picked me up..." Isao elucidated.

"And the shame refused to subside. In fact, the military found the very notion of me surviving the catastrophe to be incredibly dishonorable. I was shamed by the military, by my fellow naval officers, and by the country I risked my life protecting. That was already pushing me to the brink," he added grimly.

"..."

"I... received a letter while recovering in a military hospital, informing me that Tsukiko died from childbirth complications..." Isao spoke with intense grief.

"She died giving birth to me..." Giyuu interjected.

"... Her death destroyed me. I had lost every semblance of sanity and hope following that. My frequent mental and emotional outbursts compelled my superiors to induct me into a facility for the insane," Isao carefully avoided his son's comment.

"That's why you didn't return?" Giyuu inquires.

"Truth is... I was deliberately trying to avoid going home..." Isao admitted.

"I couldn't bear to accept the reality that Tsukiko was dead... I didn't want to believe it..." he further remarked.

"But you did come back," Giyuu points out.

"Yeah... I... wanted to see Tsutako again... And I also wanted to see you," Isao mentioned.

"Me?" Giyuu asked in confusion.

"I thought that—maybe—I could start again with you guys. Somehow move on from Tsukiko's death years later... That was the plan, at least," said Isao.

"Then why did you leave us?"

"Because, more than anything, I hated myself," Isao answered solemnly.

"Oh..." That statement alone hit home for Giyuu.

"When I first saw you and Tsutako, I was overcome with joy and grief... Joy at the fact that my children were alive and well, but grief because you both had your mother's eyes..."

"..."

"Tsutako was almost a copy of Tsukiko. And you, Giyuu, looked like me..."

"You hated me... because you hated yourself," Giyuu quickly connected the dots.

"I couldn't bear myself to see you, Giyuu. Not because I saw the resemblance with your mother, but also because I saw myself within you. I hated myself more than anything in this world, and I projected that hatred into something that resembled me in the slightest. I'm sorry..." Isao concurred, his voice quivered for a second.

"I see..." Giyuu couldn't help but attest to those familiar feelings.

"I made excuses in my head, like how you alone are the reason why Tsukiko was dead. All of this fueled my anger... But even I came to eventually realize that what I was doing was folly. I was making excuses for my own incompetence..." Isao was speaking a language that Giyuu could comprehend clearly.

"Soon, I understood my time with you two was doing nothing—either for me or you guys. So, I surmised that my presence in your lives was a net negative. And, thus, it would be best if I left you two alone. You were doing fine without a father anyway," Isao quipped in a twisted, self-deprecating fashion.

The pernicious tenets of guilt, grief, and shame, are all being amalgamated for the purpose of destroying one's love for oneself.

It was a condition the Water Hashira was all too familiar with.

Apparently, father and son do indeed share some things in common.

Albeit, in the worst ways possible.

"Father, I have one more question," said Giyuu.

"Go ahead," Isao acceded.

"What did you tell Nee-san on that night?"

"..." Isao was hushed.

"The night she kicked you out of the house," Giyuu clarified. "I know she momentarily left to convince you to come back—she actually didn't want you to leave."

"So you remember," Isao comments.

"Yes. Nee-san said she left to speak with the police, but she was really going after you," Giyuu nods.

"Well, then, there's not much to say."

"What do you mean?"

"The night I left you two for good... that was the same night I died."

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*THUD*

Isao landed on his knees.

Sitting along the banks of a wide, fierce river, the haggard bearded man was wallowing in his own misery.

He looks up.

Glimpsing upon the faint light of the stars within the darkness of his broken heart, he is reminded of the days of old.

It was an imagery fraught with a bittersweet calmness.

"Are you listening, Tsukiko...?" he calls out.

Silence.

"Are you seeing me in this sorry state? If you did, would you have truly regretted marrying me? Especially given how awful I am to our children..."

Silence.

"Tsukiko..." he whimpered. "I miss you... I miss you so much..."

Silence.

"I'm terrible, aren't I? Neither Tsutako nor Giyuu deserve me, I'm not fit to be their father... I'm not worthy of looking after such wonderful children!" he cried out, tears developing in his sockets.

Silence.

"I'm a horrible father, a dishonorable soldier, and an inconsiderate husband!!! I get angry at little Giyuu just because of his face! I don't deserve a good life!" he shouted.

Silence.

"Please... say something..." he was crying. "Tsukiko... I love you... I don't want you to leave me..."

"Papa?" A voice squeaked from behind.

"... Go away," Isao's voice croaked.

"Please, Papa! I'm sorry I got so mad at you, but you don't need to treat Giyuu like that!" Tsutako entreats.

"... I said go away..."

"Just... Just listen..." she pleaded. "We can work something out. You can come back home, slowly talk to Giyuu, and he'll come to love you as well!"

"... It's too late. The boy hates me."

"Please, Papa! We can make this work! I'll talk to Giyuu, and all you have to do is—!"

"Tsutako," Isao pulled himself up, but his back remained turned against his daughter.

"It's too late," he reiterated.

"I-It's not too late! We can fix this together! W-We can become a family again! Just like with Mama! We can become whole again, we... we... we..." Tears began to gush down her cheeks as the weight of her sorrow obstructed her articulation.

Thereafter, in an abrupt and unexpected gesture, Isao turns around and walks towards his daughter.

"Tsutako... I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry I abandoned you for so long, and I'm sorry that I can't give you what you desire... And I'm sorry about my behavior towards Giyuu..." he said with sincerity.

Tsutako shut her eyes tightly, in a measure to somehow assuage the pain she was reeling from, "Please... Don't leave me again...

"You look just like your mother, Tsutako... You've grown so much..." Isao smiles weakly.

He thence lightly patted his daughter's head, "Tsutako... Look after Giyuu for me, okay?"

Tsutako was now shedding a deluge of heart-wrenching teardrops.

"Papa..." she wept.

"Until we meet again, my beautiful daughter," Isao released his hand.

And thus, he was already walking away into the darkness.

Into the darkness of his own hollow soul, leaving behind a tearful daughter who had her aspirations crushed within a matter of seconds.

He faded into the distance.

The family was truly broken beyond repair.

A tragic family indeed.

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"I jumped into the river that night... never to come out again..." Isao stated dispassionately.

Giyuu was utterly stunned, his eyes fixed on his father.

He promptly buries his face into the palm of his hands.

"You committed suicide..." Giyuu experienced intense displeasure at the utterance of those godforsaken words.

"..." Isao didn't respond, but that alone amounted to a tacit agreement.

"Why..." Giyuu asked once more.

"My life was worth nothing to me, especially since I knew I couldn't live happily around my children. Therefore, I decided to end it all. I threw away everything," Isao replied.

But then the father turned to look at his son, "You've tried it, haven't you?"

"I have..." Giyuu confessed.

"Then you must understand the contagious, poisonous thoughts that flowed through my head at the time," said Isao.

"..." Giyuu was still trying to process everything.

"I'm sorry, Giyuu. For everything. I've failed Tsukiko, I've failed Tsutako, I've failed my crew, and I've failed you... I didn't deserve to live."

"Don't say that," Giyuu objected.

"It's true though."

"Never say that again."

"Giyuu, you don't have to pretend to like me just because I'm your father," Isao frowned, entrenching his lack of self-respect into his sentences. "I understand that you hate me. So, there's no need to protect me from myself."

Giyuu finally emerged from his hands and raised his head up.

He shot a countenance expressing a firmness of the highest order.

"Father, at the time, I didn't know you well like Nee-san did. And your conduct towards us made me bitter and angry... But, most of all, it made me sad—sad that the man Nee-san spoke highly of no longer existed..." Giyuu explained.

"..." Isao refused to respond.

"But, you know what, after spending years thinking about it, I came to sort of understand why you changed. Because I changed as well. Both of us for the worse."

Isao's eyes widened spontaneously.

"No matter how you may have acted, you're still the man who married my mother and the father who raised someone as wonderful as Nee-san. In the end, you were still that kind of a father... You were still my father..."

The father's brows furrowed, "Giyuu..."

"I've already forgiven you."

Isao's face relaxed, as if a terrible burden had been hefted from the deepest and most intimate ends of his hollow soul.

He had finally received what he needed all along: his son's forgiveness.

His spirit could not ascend into the afterlife because the weight of his guilt and grief pulled him into this spiritual limbo, wherein his bottled-up emotions continued to beleaguer his soul.

But that was done now.

Giyuu had forgiven him.

He can finally learn to forgive himself.

Isao exhales deeply, "I know it's been hard for you. And I've only made things worse for my children. But just know, your soul is never hollow. It will never be. Not with the memories you have, and the memories you will make."

"Thanks, father. But I'm fine. After all, I have someone to protect now."

"Someone you love?"

Giyuu's face brightens as he grins at the thought of the peculiar woman he fell in love with, "Yes. She's extraordinary."

"Then get going. You aren't empty. You still have plenty left to protect," Isao says jocundly.

"Yeah... But, father... it's just that..." Giyuu lowers his head.

"I would've just as much enjoyed... listening to your stories, to your stern lectures... learning new things from you... And I would've loved eating Salmon Daikon together with you..." he spoke with great melancholy.

He suppresses the lump in his throat, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I would've loved it if I could be with my Papa..."

Alas, the tragedy of a broken family: the loss of a happy and innocent future, the deprivation of the bonds that could've been fostered between loved ones, and the wistful longing for a normal life with his father.

In the end, Giyuu has always imagined such an alternate scenario.

Where he could lead a normal life with his sister, mother, and father.

Isao smiled warmly, "Giyuu, although I may be dead, and although you are the only living member of the Tomioka family, your mother, sister, and I will always love you no matter what. We will be your family, as our souls in the heavens will cherish your continued happiness. Remember that."

Giyuu was still trying to restrain the tears, so he couldn't respond.

Still, Isao imparts his final words to his son.

"I'm grateful that we had time to talk... and for your forgiveness..."

"Papa..." Giyuu looked back up, seeing his father for one last time in these critical moments.

"At long last, I can move on in peace..." Isao grins with a calm radiance.

"Then, finally, see your mother."

The fire was gone.

And so was Tomioka Isao.

His spirit passed over into the next realm.

Eagerly waiting to be reunited with his family again.

Reunited with his beautiful wife and daughter.

Because that is all he really wanted.

Family.

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"Giyuu..." A soothing voice caresses his spirit.

Giyuu slowly lifts his eyelids up. He was lying on the ground.

His head was resting—and being supported by—something soft.

He shifts his line of view up, only to find this angelic figure staring into his eyes.

She had dark hair, which was woven into a braided coiffure with the thick braid lying down to her back. In addition, loose bangs hung over her forehead, with the posterior strands near the temples being stretched to the corners of her eyes.

She wore this dark blue kimono dotted with illustrations of white-colored flowers.

She had sheen eyes displaying the irises of a deep sapphire that fades to a lighter blue, while the pupils are bluish-black.

The lady's emollient lineaments endorsed this authentic, warm smile.

Her very appearance exuded a serene atmosphere.

"Tsutako?" Giyuu blurted, as she looked almost identical to his late sister.

But something was different about her. Her hair was longer, the red lipstick was more well-defined, and she just seemed more... mature.

"Giyuu..." she spoke again, with the sound of her voice being music to his ears. "My son..."

Giyuu instantly realized it upon hearing that, "M-Mama...?"

His head was reclining against Tsukiko's motherly laps.

"Please... wake up..." Tsukiko implores.

"Mama..." Giyuu's eyes were moist.

"You must stay alive, no matter what..." she declares.

"I want to be with you, Mama..." Giyuu felt like a child again, a lost child crying out for his Mama.

"I know... And I want to be with you as well, to make up for all the time we could've been together. Giyuu, my son, you are my miracle child—I gladly traded my life for yours..." Tsukiko smiles.

"You shouldn't have... you should've been the one who stayed alive..." Giyuu's voice cracked.

"No, my sweet Giyuu. Your father and I would have never forgiven ourselves if you were stillborn... That much I knew," she asserted.

"But—"

"Giyuu, you must stay alive... The life you live is not tarnished by those who sacrificed for it, but, rather, it is made more valuable—more imperative that you live on in their memory..." Tsukiko imparted her wisdom.

After all, she was the first to protect him—right at the moment he was born—even at the cost of her own life.

It is a form of motherly love that transcends cultural, religious, and national boundaries.

"Mama..." Only now was Giyuu beginning to uncover the true desire for that motherly love that is always found in a child.

"Stay alive, my son. You will come to appreciate life more..."

"Don't leave me, Mama..."

Tsukiko gently strokes her son's cheek, "You are such a strong boy. And I couldn't have asked for such a wonderful son. I will always love you, my sweet little Giyuu... For you, a thousand times over..."

"Mama...!" Giyuu tried to reach out.

But she was gone as well.

Tomioka Tsukiko had fulfilled what she set out to accomplish: protecting her dear son and, finally, speaking to him for the first time.

All this time, she had been quietly observing—with great anguish—from afar. And now, with this rare opportunity, she helped guide her son through it all.

Therefore, as she left, so did the visions, the guilt, and the baggage of the past.

In its place, however, came the hopeful aspirations of a brighter future.

Because Giyuu was not alone in navigating through the unknown wilderness of said future.

He will always have a certain someone by his side.

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*HACK* *HACK*

Giyuu coughed, immediately bestirring him from his reverie.

"Giyuu!!" Shinobu exclaimed, seeing her partner wake up.

The Water Hashria looked up to find a tearful Shinobu.

"Don't do that again... Don't make me so worried, you idiot!" she sobbed.

His head was lying comfortably on her lap, and he appeared to be wrapped in another layer of bandages to address the newly-acquired wounds—Shinobu must've been busy during his little nap.

The Insect Hashira subsequently bit her lips, desperately trying to compose herself in this highly emotional state.

"I'm... I'm so glad you're okay... Without you, I don't know what would happen—I don't want to even think about it... I'm just so glad... I love you, Giyuu. I love you more than you could possibly imagine..." she whimpered.

"Shinobu..." Giyuu said weakly.

"Don't ever leave me again..." she whispered.

But Giyuu's breath rasps in his throat , "Don't die..."

"Giyuu?" Shinobu replied in astonishment.

Giyuu couldn't resist it anymore. The tenuous concealment of his sequestered emotions was falling apart after so many encounters with loved ones; he was now partaking in a tremendous outpour of raw feelings.

"Please..." A cascade of teardrops begins to flow out of the corners of his eyes. "Don't die... I don't want you to die, Shinobu... Don't die... Please don't die..."

He hitched gusts of air, tears flowing down from his eyes—stinging the raw flesh of the skinned bruises on his face.

"It's ok," Shinobu whispers tenderly. "I won't die... I'll always remain by your side..."

"I love you... Shinobu..."

"I love you too, Giyuu."

It is quite simple, really.

Giyuu had no one to protect, until Shinobu.

And Shinobu had no one to live for, until Giyuu.

Each embarked on a path of self-destruction.

But, now, they have each other.

So there is no need to jeopardize their futures, if the future they now desire is one in which they are in the other's presence.

Their love has saved them.

And, even before now, it has saved them more times than they could count.

It is a love that transcends time.

A timeless, boundless love.

One that ties and mends the souls of Tomioka Giyuu and Kocho Shinobu.

Their souls were no longer hollow.