Chapter 47: Inauspicious Times
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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Himejima Gyomei remained perched against the ligneous floor of this particular residence, sitting seiza-style in accordance with traditional manners and practices.
His side of the room was dimly lit, with but a mere candle providing any semblance of illumination into the physical configurations of this traditionally tailored room.
It didn't help that it was late at night, irrespective of the moon's vacillating contributions; not even the pusillanimous glint of moonlight could reach the inner sanctum of this ceremonial chamber—at least, with regards to where Gyomei was situated.
But this was no inconvenience for the two parties present. Not at all.
As both Gyomei and his interlocutor need not the luxury of eyesight—a luxury they are unfortunately bereft of.
But while Gyomei was not at all troubled by this idiosyncratic impediment, having been born in such circumstances, he could only wonder to what degree his superior has come to terms with the adverse condition—as the loss of vision is a relatively recent ordeal that has distressed the Master.
Ubuyashiki Kagaya, on the other hand, was seated on the opposite end of the room along the Engawa, or veranda platform of the adjacent courtyard.
With shoji screen doors wide open, the aforementioned moonlight bore some strength in its display, providing insight into Kagaya's exact disposition—even as it refused to reach Gyomei's location further deep into the room.
The Master's back was turned against his subordinate, staring into the star-lit sky as he was carefully musing and pondering about certain—but delicate—matters.
The Stone Hashira, meanwhile, patiently awaited directives to be issued by his superior. He wasn't exactly sure why the Master asked for his presence, nor did he seek clarification on the matter.
But the Stone Hashira—the eldest and the most experienced among his peers—was already accustomed to this sedate routine; he knew his inquiries would be answered in due time.
"Caw Caw," an incoming Kasugai Crow called out as it approached the courtyard from above.
Both Kagaya and Gyomei took notice of the sound, with the former raising his right arm as a support for the messenger to land on.
As the bird carefully descended and gently alighted onto the Master's forearm, it promptly relayed a message to the Head of the Demon Slayer Corps—a message of great importance.
"I see," Kagaya acknowledged softly but with a hint of firmness.
It appears there have been crucial events at play, ones that will change the calculus of the Master's current strategy.
"Thank you for delivering this. You did well to return," he extended his gratitude to the crow.
Gyomei anticipated orders to be verbally delivered within a moment's notice, given this development.
"Gyomei," Kagaya convoked, confirming the Stone Hashira's postulation.
"Yes, Oyakata-sama," the Stone Hashira acknowledged.
"I imagine you are familiar with our clandestine communications network," the Master raised almost arbitrarily.
"Indeed, Oyakata-sama," Gyomei answered, his astute mind making an immediate connection between this seemingly random subject and the mission he will likely be consigned to.
"Neither the Imperial Government nor the Military are informed about the Demon Slayer Corps' usage of crows as a means for intelligence-gathering and dissemination of information within the organization," he added, further clarifying his grasp of the topic.
"Indeed," Kagaya replied, certifying the validity of such statements. "This makes such intelligence-gathering illegal, especially in the absence of military jurisdiction—which was one of the stipulations enumerated between His Majesty's government and the Corps for our continued operations under the Meiji Constitution."
"But we are bypassing that agreement as an organization," Gyomei added.
"That is indeed the case," Kagaya gave credence to the assertion.
"But it has been indispensable to our operations. Relying on the Ministry of Communications to constantly scrutinize and carefully transport intelligence at a typically bureaucratic pace would have been impractical," Kagaya couldn't help but throw a jab at the notoriously slow bureaucracy of the Imperial government.
He continued, "Which is why the Kasugai Crows are one of our greatest assets, even if it comes at the risk of secretly abrogating our arrangement with His Majesty's government."
"There is a great risk involved by acting upon this intelligence," Gyomei surmised.
"Yes," Kagaya acknowledged. "Despite Giyuu and Shinobu's inability to legally send status reports, their crows have been hard at work to constantly convey a flow of vital intelligence."
"..." Gyomei remained silent, but he suspected that his fellow Hashiras may have wound up in more tenuous circumstances.
And he would be correct in thinking that.
"As of a week ago, the Kasugai Crows belonging to the Water and Insect Hashiras have lost all contact with their respective owners," Kagaya stated bluntly, exposing the gravity of the situation. "Both Giyuu and Shinobu have apparently disappeared without a trace."
Gyomei's worst fears were realized.
"However," the Master noted, "this is a very delicate case. Any actions on our end could risk exposing our covert operations and therefore open up a Pandora's box of very terrible ramifications, including the loss of cooperation with His Majesty's government—which is something we can hardly afford in these troubling times..."
Gyomei noticed the solemn tone of the Master's elocution, indicating the precariousness of the dilemma that Kagaya is forced to address at this critical moment.
If they attempt a rescue mission for the Water and Insect Hashiras—both extremely talented and valuable warriors for the Corps—then they peril the exposure of their secret (and illegal) communications network.
It doesn't help that the pair of Hashiras are already under the ever-watchful eyes of the Imperial Secret Police, the Kempeitai, on dubious charges of espionage.
Perhaps the government is already making moves against the Corps. After all, Kagaya was personally warned by General Nobuyoshi Mutō about the military's increasing antagonism towards his extralegal organization.
However, by not sending aid to the beleaguered Hashiras, Kagaya will be directly responsible for the possible—and, most importantly, preventable—deaths of two of his children.
If he truly views the entire Demon Slayer Corps as an extension of his own family, then he would be most hypocritical to abandon his beloved children when assistance is most needed.
The Stone Hashira sensed the moral conflict within his Master's heart, even if Kagaya refused to disclose an iota of this inner contention through sound or sight—through the phonetics or the countenance.
Such was the tremendous burden resting on the shoulders of the Head of this Demon Slayer Corps.
But Kagaya was a man of principles. As such, he was quick to come to a conclusion—omitting any extended deliberation into his decision.
In fact, he might have even prematurely selected a course of action long before the crow had arrived with the latest intelligence report, which was likely the reason behind Gyomei's summoning in the first place.
"Gyomei," Kagaya spoke.
"..." The Stone Hashira remained at the behest of the eventual orders.
"Please help Giyuu and Shinobu. We do not know the exact nature of the enemy, nor can we ascertain its status in Kibutsuji Muzan's hierarchy—for all we know, it is likely one of the Upper Moons. Or perhaps it is something else entirely..." Kagaya said ominously, raising a few questions in Gyomei's head.
But the Stone Hashira was similarly quick to heed this request; it wasn't just a strict order, but a plea for the salvation of his comrades—a plea he would most gladly accept, regardless of its issuer.
"I will do everything in my power to ensure their safety, Oyakata-sama," Gyomei bowed formally, exhibiting a posture brimming with the utmost care and respect.
"Thank you, Gyomei..."
These were inauspicious times for the Corps.
A brutal, vicious war against demons and Muzan's cohorts.
An increasingly ambivalent government seeking to assert its authority.
And an enemy facing the Water and Insect Hashiras they know little of.
But the darkest hour is always before dawn.
Perhaps when everything seems to go wrong, there is always an opportunity for some fortune to come about.
Even in the most unlikeliest and seemingly inconsequential of places.
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Darkness enveloped the narrow passageways of this underground conduit.
Amidst this chasm, rarely is the perpetual silence interrupted by punctuated noise—lest there exist some live activity.
And indeed there was.
*Splash*
*Splash*
The resonance of footsteps echoed throughout these desolate tunnels as two figures attempted to trudge through the sewage system.
Shinobu closely followed Makomo's lead, plodding through the relatively shallow waters at a reasonably fast pace, even if the Insect Hashira's movements were impaired by her injuries.
Very little was said in this relatively long trek. Neither Shinobu nor Makomo took the liberty of initiating small talk; the atmosphere was too heavy and tense for such trivial matters to be explored.
Nevertheless, there was an unspoken, mutual understanding between the two. They've already spoken plenty, and it was all quite enlightening and—to some degree—uplifting for their spirits.
Nothing more needs to be said.
But Shinobu's heart ached at the thought of Giyuu's safety.
She stared down in an evocation of her anxiety.
Has he truly won? Is he hurt? How badly hurt?
She was worried beyond comprehension, as is usually the case when it comes to his antics—a pattern she certainly does not enjoy and will seek to reprimand Giyuu for.
Makomo abruptly halted.
Hearing the sudden halt of splashes from ahead, Shinobu emulated the maneuver and glanced up at Makomo.
Still standing behind her, the Insect Hashira could not make out the girl's facial expression.
"Makomo-san...?" She inquired.
"..." the girl in question stood ever so still.
Shinobu stole a peek at what lay ahead, aiming to identify what exactly was stalling Makomo.
It appears they stood before a large opening that acted as an entrance to an even larger chamber.
The chamber in question was in tatters: jagged rock formations, shattered concrete structures, and irregular indents along the walls and the floor.
This was the scene of an epic battle.
As Shinobu subsequently peered further ahead, she noticed a familiar individual standing—albeit, with a poor posture—and armed with a Nichirin Blade.
It was Giyuu.
He was smiling. One that exuded relief and genuine happiness—one that she had seldom hitherto bore witness to.
Shinobu's eyes widened.
Makomo promptly turned her back to Shinobu. As she did, she carried a soft but wistful smile that evoked a range of emotions.
"It's time we say goodbye, Shinobu-san," Makomo said softly.
"W-We?" Shinobu questioned, her voice quavering at the sight of Giyuu.
"Sabito and I will be going now... We can finally rest..." Makomo clarified with sincerity.
"Please take care of Giyuu... He needs you now more than ever..."
And with those final words, the spirit of Makomo slowly vanished and ascended into the afterworld.
Her task is accomplished, and her friend is no longer in grief, she may now find peace for herself.
Alongside Sabito.
Though saddened by her departure, Shinobu's initial reaction was to make an immediate dash towards Giyuu.
"Giyuu!" she cried out.
*THUD*
The Water Hashira collapsed, exacerbating his lover's sense of urgency.
"Giyuu!!" she reached out to him.
She beseeches him.
Begged for him to respond.
Now, more than ever, she needs him.
Because her soul was no longer hollow.
She had something to live for now.
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A slumbering Giyuu lay supine on the ground, his head being supported by his and Shinobu's haoris like a pillow—a gesture of reciprocation on Shinobu's part, as the Water Hashira had done something similar for her.
For an extended period of time, the Water Hashira drifted in and out of sleep; the severity of his wounds combined with his sheer exhaustion—having to engage in two consecutive, intense confrontations against the enemy—showed no end.
Shinobu, after tending to his wounds, was on the lookout for any immediate threats—sitting next to Giyuu as she maintained a firm grip on her own Nichirin Blade. Despite her own injuries, she remained vigilant in protecting the man beside her.
Though she would be lying if she said she didn't feel worn out herself.
The Insect Hashira shifted her line of view over to the Water Hashira beside her, who was fast asleep.
She frowned, 'He's lost so much blood...'
Though she wasn't one to talk, given how she was quite literally on the verge of death at the hands of Zaiaku-kan—who had taken the form of her dear sister—not too long ago.
Still, she was still troubled by—what she can only assume to be—the extreme ferocity in which Giyuu fought Zaiaku-kan.
Lacerations, broken bones, strained muscles, and so much more.
One could imagine her horror as she found Giyuu's broken and bruised body falling to its near-demise, much less finding a half-broken blade impaled against his abdomen.
Hence, why she immediately got to work resuscitating him. She applied all of her knowledge and expertise in medicine to prevent the worst from passing.
And, ultimately, she was successful.
But it was close. Too close.
The hands of death nearly choked the life out of him. If Giyuu had not the willpower to stay alive, he could've just as easily died long before she arrived at the scene.
She feared the worst.
Her hands won't stop shaking nor will her heart stop palpitating.
Once again, Shinobu is reminded of how this godforsaken mission has taken years off of her life.
Yet, she is also somewhat grateful.
The person she was weeks before and the person she is now are completely different personalities.
And for the better.
Ironically, while she may have incurred physical damage throughout the course of this mission, her soul has healed in that same duration.
While she may have been reminded of the grief and sadness that has weighed down on her since the tragedies of the past, she has also learned to overcome that grief.
She has learned to gently accept the world as is.
Through the trials and tribulations she has encountered, her resolve and will to live have only grown.
And now, her will to live has blossomed into something beautiful—something almost magical and dreamy-like.
Such is the bliss of a passionate love. A bliss that comes with its highs and lows, subjecting her to immense emotional undulation.
But, in the end, it is something she is forever grateful for.
There is no one she is more thankful for than a certain airhead right beside her.
'He really brings the best out of me...' she mused, tenderly and affectionately caressing Giyuu's cheek with the palm of her pastel, emollient hand.
Shinobu lets out a gentle grin, "Thank you, Giyuu..."
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It was late at night.
The otherwise pitch darkness would have blinded all to the machinations of the surrounding vicinity.
Luckily for travelers and local residents, this area is within the confines of the Tokyo Metropolitan Area and is therefore equipped with rows of streetlights—a very conspicuous indication of the city's rapid rise to modernity.
What's more, the full moon brought further consolation to any bikers, pedestrians, or the few car drivers that roamed the neighborhood.
But, despite being situated at the epicenter of Tokyo, the Naval Ministry Building was eerily quiet at nighttime.
This is compounded by the fact that a major military installation prevented any unwanted visitors from wandering around the radius.
Except, of course, military personnel themselves.
Two uniformed men approached a secured gateway on their bikes, alerting the sentry of their coming presence.
The wrought-iron gateway presented a tangible barrier to premises of the three-story military establishment, a destination that the two uniformed men were actively attempting to enter.
But this roadblock was a mere nuisance for the traveling officers.
The two men disembarked from their bicycles and saluted the guard, who returned the gesture.
"Passes," the sentry instructed.
"On orders of the Ministry of War," the first officer stated, unveiling a piece of paper for the guard.
The guard then grabbed a hold of the paper, examining its contents.
He then raised an eyebrow, "What business does the Secret Police have with the Naval Ministry?"
"None of your business," the first officer replied curtly.
The guard promptly sighs in admission.
"I'll open the gates," he hands back the note.
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*Knock* *Knock*
A bespectacled, middle-aged man was perusing through a military document until he was interrupted by the obtrusive sound of knocking.
"It's unlocked," he lowers the document and places it back on his desk.
The door to his office swings open and two Kempeitai officers enter.
The bespectacled man, donning a full military regalia of the Imperial Japanese Navy, is understandably perplexed to see the Secret Police of the Imperial Army attending his own work office.
But, acting purely on instincts, he upraises himself from his seat and presents a firm military salute to the officers.
The men reciprocate.
Following this, the two men proceed toward his desk and submit an officially-sanctioned indenture of some sort.
"What is this?" the bespectacled man asks.
"An official request for a court-martial proceeding," the first officer informs.
"Yes, I know that. But why are you here? Court martial proceedings should be administered by your respective department—the Imperial Army. Why are you conferring with the Imperial Navy?" The Naval officer raises.
"The nature of this proceeding stipulates that we inform every Minister within the Supreme War Council," the second Kempeitai officer answers.
"What? You want to submit this directly to Navy Minister Yashiro Rokurō?"
"Indeed. Which is why we are conferring with you, Lieutenant Commander Satō Eito. You are the direct liaison with Navy Minister Yashiro," the first Kempeitai officer illuminates.
Eito's brows furrowed, "Why is permission needed from the highest level of governance for a simple Court Martial?"
"As I've said, the delicate nature of this case makes it necessary for the upper echelon of the Cabinet to be au courant with its administration," the second officer reiterates.
"On whose authority are you proceeding with this case?" Eito once again inquires.
"Army Minister Oka Ichinosuke."
"I still don't understand the need for a simple court martial case to be delivered to the higher-ups," Eito continues to press.
"You do not need to deliberate on the matter. And you will not deliberate on the matter," the first Kempeitai officer says in a thinly-veiled warning.
And it was effective.
Eito knew better than to not come into conflict with the Kempeitai.
The Military Police had not always wielded such influence when it was first established during the Meiji Era, but the increasing militarization and expansion of the Imperial Japanese Empire necessitated—at least for the militarists—the corresponding expansion of the Kempeitai's roles and responsibilities.
Everything from military discipline, suppression of political dissidence, and requisition of food and supplies from both colonies and the homeland were within the parameters of the Kempeitai's delegated and implied powers.
As the country and its political institutions slowly transform into a militarized police state, this organization will only continue to gain more and more influence.
To put it simply, you don't mess with these folks.
Eito let out a heavy sigh.
It didn't matter anyway.
He's only working this job to collect his paycheck, acquire his pension, and bring some grace to the family name.
After all, the loss of a fiancé and his unwillingness to be betrothed again has somewhat tarnished his family name.
His family insists on him accepting marriage proposals, but he will entertain no such thoughts. Not after what happened to his beloved Tsutako.
Consequently, he has been shunned by the family and deemed incapable of upholding the family name.
So, at the very least, he ought to perform decently well on the job and provide remittances to his parents and siblings.
It's the least he can—or perhaps should—do.
A failure as a son, failure as a fiancé, and a failure as a friend...
Every so often, his mind will always drift back to her little brother. That boy was terrified, aggrieved, and confused.
He was mourning her death.
And what did Eito do? He yelled at him and shunned him—like his own family would do to him.
He can imagine why the boy eventually ran away from his poor excuse of a family. All the conniving aunts and uncles simply wanted to dispose of him, cast him aside as if he were some hindrance to the family name.
But he has not heard from Giyuu since. He doesn't know if he's even alive.
Not a day goes by when he wishes he could've atoned for his sins. Not a day goes by when he wishes he could turn back the clock and console Giyuu rather than lash out at him.
Feelings of guilt and shame have been gnawing away his consciousness until now... he just doesn't care anymore.
He cannot feel anything. Because there's no point.
He's basically failed at every critical juncture in his short life.
All the youthful optimism, passion, and love have all but dissipated; he is burnt out beyond a reasonable doubt.
The once cheerful and carefree man is now a military bureaucrat spending his days working through paperwork—a former shell of himself.
Because it's all meaningless.
He has squandered everything life has given him. He doesn't deserve any more.
Dispirited by his circumstances and by his own thoughts, Eito acquiesced: "Alright, I will grant your request."
"Provide me the list of the accused," he adds with a murmur.
The Kempeitai officer hands over a piece of paper.
Eito reads the information aloud, "A General Court-Martial is hereby convened with the following primary members: Kocho Shinobu, senior member of [redacted]; and..."
He stopped and his eyes dilated with shock.
"And... Tomioka... Giyuu..."
The two Kempeitai officers were slightly confounded by Eito's reaction.
One of them chose to prod the subject carefully in order to ascertain the true extent of Eito's knowledge thereof: "Are you familiar with... this man...?"
Eito was utterly silent and still staring at the paper, being unresponsive to the officer's inquiry.
"Lieutenant Commander Satō Eito, are you in any way, shape, or form aware of this particular individual," the other officer raised his voice.
Eito was snapped out of his trance.
He looked back up, his eyes still widened and his face corrugated with a frown, "... Yes... I am..."
"Then you must know that the Hashiras are under the suspicion of transmitting classified military information," the first officer declares.
"H-Hashira?" Eito blurts, as he has unknowingly convinced the oblivious officers that he is familiar with the existence of the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Yes, these two Hashiras of the Demon Slayer Corps have legal immunity from our military laws. Thus, we must obtain Imperial approval from His Majesty's government in order to proceed with the prosecution of a Hashira—we require extraordinary measures for legal prosecution and subsequent detention of these persons of interest," the second officer explains in great detail.
Eito barely registered any of that; he was completely clueless.
Hashiras? Demon Slayer Corps?
What in the world was going on?
And why is Giyuu mentioned in the document? Is he a so-called 'Hashira'?
A Hashira of the Demon... Slayer... Corps...
Demon Slayer Corps...
"So it was all true..." Eito whispered. "Giyuu was right all along..."
How could he have been so stupid.
Everything Giyuu said—that a demon killed Tsutako.
It was all true.
The passage of time slowed.
Everything was relegated to the back of Eito's head.
The officers were speaking, explaining some legal procedures Eito could care less about at the moment.
Their voices were stowed away as background noises, barely audible through the ears of Satō Eito.
Because everything else was unimportant compared to the bombshell of a revelation Eito has arrived at.
That Demons exist. That a Demon Slayer Corps exists. That Giyuu is a 'Hashira' of this Demon Slayer Corps.
But, most importantly, that Giyuu was right all along.
That Tsutako was murdered by a demon. And that Giyuu had to witness it with his own eyes.
Tears swelled in the corners of Eito's eyes.
"I have made a terrible mistake..." Eito's voice trembled violently.
"Lieutenant Commander?" One of the Kempeitai officers questions upon seeing their interlocutor's facial expression.
Eito gritted his teeth and suppressed the powerful urge to collapse onto the ground, sob, and beg for forgiveness.
No, now was not the time for that.
He has a job to do now.
It's the least he can do.
"Your official request is hereby denied," Eito proclaims unilaterally.
"What?!" A Kempeitai officer yells.
"What are you playing at Lieutenant Commander?! You agreed to grant the request!" The other officer counters strongly.
"And I have changed my mind," Eito replies.
"This! This is unacceptable!" The Kempeitai officer had a scowl on his face.
Eito similarly responds with a firm expression of his own, "This request shall not be delivered to the Navy Ministry."
*BANG*
One of the officers slams their clenched fist on the desk, "Treason! You are exhibiting treasonous behavior! We will have you given the proper punishment!"
"And that will not stop me from denying this ludicrous request," Eito retorts.
"I will have you arrested NOW!" The Kempeitai officer shouts in his rage.
"Go fuck yourselves, you secret police twats."
This is one hot mess Eito has gotten himself into.
He reckons his career will never recover from this. Perhaps he may even face prison time, further besmirching the family name.
But he didn't care.
His indifference, however, no longer comes from a place of hopelessness and self-pity.
No, it now came from a determined effort to make amends for his past sins. Indeed, he has been given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make a difference.
Indeed, he no longer felt hollow and empty; he now felt the intense rush of acting upon his will and purpose.
A purpose to atone, and to protect.
To protect what Tsutako wanted him to protect—what he failed to do so all those years ago.
But he will do it now.
He will make his stand now.
He will help Giyuu and stand by him this time.
No matter what it takes.
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Shinobu's eyes felt heavy.
No, scratch that, her entire body felt heavy.
She desperately wanted to sleep, but she couldn't just lower her guard with Giyuu out of action for the time being.
But the Insect Hashira neglected the fact that she herself, though not as severe as Giyuu, was in a poor condition.
She still had not fully recovered from the previous battle, much less the incision into her torso from Zaiaku-kan.
But she had to stay awake.
For Giyuu's sake.
At this point, she would do everything for him.
Because he was her everything.
"Shinobu."
She quickly turned her head to the source.
"Giyuu..." she said in disbelief at the now-awake Water Hashira
"You should sleep," he states.
"No, I have to keep watch," she declines.
"I'll keep watch then," Giyuu suggests.
"But you're injur—!"
"And so are you," Giyuu immediately counters.
"Argh..." he carefully pulls himself up to an upright posture, ignoring the pulsating, agonizing pain that came with this maneuver.
"Giyuu! Don't force yourself!" Shinobu pleaded emphatically, reaching out her arms around his back for support.
"Shinobu, I'll keep watch. Get some rest," he reiterated weakly, an obvious sign that the pain had not subsided.
"Please... Just lay down and rest..." She tenderly places her palm atop the back of Giyuu's hand.
"I can't do that," Giyuu replies blankly.
"You've suffered so much already... Don't push yourself anymore..." Shinobu implores quietly.
"..." Giyuu's countenance softens upon witnessing this outpour of emotions from his beloved.
"That doesn't mean you haven't suffered just as much," Giyuu answers gently. "Nor does it negate the fact that you're also pushing yourself."
"But—"
"I'm taking watch. Get some sleep," Giyuu asserts.
Shinobu then frowns, "I'm sorry..."
"Why are you apologizing?" Giyuu consoles.
"I didn't know how much you've suffered. I didn't know much about Sabito or Makomo, and how important they were to you..."
"Shinobu..."
"I'm sorry, Giyuu. For not being there when you needed it. It must've been hard... I should've known of all people, I—" Shinobu whimpered as she gazed downwards.
"Shinobu," Giyuu grabbed her by the shoulders, beckoning her to look at him face-to-face.
"You don't have to blame yourself for everything... That's what you taught me, isn't it?" he emphasizes.
"Giyuu..." Shinobu spoke gently, serenity emitting from the sound of her voice. "You don't have to blame yourself for everything..."
Shinobu was initially speechless, but she felt a warmness in her heart.
"You remembered that, huh?" she grinned weakly.
"Of course I did. I remember almost everything you say," the Water Hashira smiles warmly.
Hearing this, Shinobu inadvertently blushes, "That's quite the claim."
"Well, it's true. You always say something interesting."
"Meanwhile, you always say something out-of-pocket," Shinobu giggles, poking fun at Giyuu.
He chuckles in response, "Maybe not ALL the time."
"Oh, you have no idea, Giyuu."
"Wait, really?"
"Really. But," she scoots her face closer to his, "that's what I love about you."
It was now Giyuu's turn to redden, "Uh..."
"No need to say anything," Shinobu whispers. "Just kiss me."
And Giyuu obliges.
This is clearly something both of them wished to experience once again.
Following the osculation, Giyuu took the liberty of caressing Shinobu's cheeks.
He was slightly taken aback at how her skin retained its smooth and fair features, even after all the fighting and wounds sustained.
"You're like a goddess, you know that?" Giyuu observes.
"... A-Again, with the out-of-pocket statements," Shinobu felt her chest tighten.
The Water Hashira truly has the strangest ways of giving a compliment.
He, however, proceeds to frown, "I'm the one who should apologize. For abandoning you back there..."
"..." Shinobu was silent, as this was something she had yet to let Giyuu off the hook for.
"I know it was irresponsible of me. I left you in the defenseless in the tunnel—"
"That's not the issue, Giyuu," Shinobu snapped back. "The issue is that you had regard for your own well-being! We agreed to fight the enemy together! Why do you have to do everything by yourself?!"
"..." Giyuu recognized the error of his ways, and he correspondingly looked down in shame.
"Do you... not trust me?" Shinobu squeaked, afraid to even ask such a daunting question.
"No, that's not true!" Giyuu was quick to respond. "I trust you! I trust you more than anyone else!"
"Then why did you leave me...?"
"Because..." Giyuu struggled to find the exact words. "Because... I didn't want you any more hurt than you already are..."
"You idiot..." Shinobu mumbled.
"Huh?"
"Idiot..." she said more audibly. "You know how agonizing it was? To know that you were fighting to the death? That I was utterly helpless and useless? To not know whether you will survive or not?!"
"I'm sor—"
"Do you know how I felt when I arrived here and saw you in your bloodied mess?! I thought I was going to lose you! And I can't bear the thought! I just can't let you go!" she cried, hitching gusts of air.
*TUG*
Giyuu pulls her into a hug, ignoring all the pain associated with the movement of the muscles.
"Do you know how many times I've feared for your life throughout this mission?! Do you know how it feels to lose something you've only come to truly appreciate?!" Shinobu wept.
"I'm sorry..." Giyuu softly comforts. "I'm sorry I didn't take you into consideration. I'm terrible for that."
"No, you're not terrible," Shinobu whimpers, "you're just an idiot..."
"Yeah, maybe I am..." Giyuu relents.
Subsequently, the two remained in this loving embrace for a few minutes, letting the raw emotions take their course.
The Water Hashira has learned—or, maybe, relearned—a few things about affection from his interactions with this wonderful woman.
And no longer is he restricting himself in terms of experiencing the bliss of this nourishing and wholesome love.
Though he has not yet let go of all the guilt, he has come to terms with it.
No longer is he chaining his soul to the past—to Sabito and Makomo's fates.
No longer is he denying himself the love that he needs to mend his broken spirit.
He will cherish Shinobu for as long as he lives.
Because she has shown him the other side of life that he has neglected all this time: the happiness and joy of simply living and being alive.
That is why he is deeply in love with her.
At some point, Giyuu had noticed that Shinobu's breathing had become hushed and rhythmic.
She had fallen asleep.
In light of this, the Water Hashira placed her down with the utmost care, even if it came to his detriment—his wounds were still burning.
Placing his neatly-folded haori underneath the back of Shinobu's head, and using her haori as a blanket, Giyuu puts her to a warm rest.
As he looks fixedly at her, he observes the tender features and peaceful expression along her countenance. Her very mien exuded a serene outlook, giving calm to Giyuu's soul and healing his spirit.
He smiled.
She was beautiful.
He then grabbed his Nichirin Blade and began to keep watch.
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