Chapter Text
Though the decision to disband the Demon Slayer Corps was a natural, predictable one given the defeat of Muzan, Giyuu’s stomach still dropped at the announcement, and it has yet to pick itself back up.
He should be excited, shouldn’t he? The years of hard work and dedication put forth by himself and all the other corps members has finally come to fruition, but all he’s felt since he walked out of the last meeting is pure dread. The corps is his life. His life . The possibility of a world without demons didn’t even exist in Giyuu’s mind until he watched the demon king burn with his own two eyes. The question “ now what ?” has been ringing in his ears since.
The sentiment seemed to have been shared between the other two remaining pillars, Shinazugawa Sanemi and Tokito Muichiro. They smiled in the moment, as did Giyuu, but that moment has passed and now there’s a conflicting reality before them, neither of them are sure what to do with it. Shinazugawa left the room faster than any of them, with Giyuu only stepping out a few seconds ago, leaving Tokito behind with the remnants of the Ubuyashiki family.
Giyuu sighs, immediately leaning against the wall adjacent to the meeting room, forcing his legs to keep him upright despite how badly he wants to fall and lay down and die. It’s an awful thing to think, he can practically hear Tanjiro’s stern voice scolding him for even thinking about dying when he’s one of the lucky few who lived to see another day. Not like his fellow Hashira. Not like Kocho, or Himejima, or Kanroji, or Iguro, or-
Just thinking about them makes him feel sick, so he forces himself not to. It doesn’t matter. He lived and they didn’t, so he’s got to figure out something to do with his life.
It could be worse , he thinks without much confidence. He’s not as alone as he thought he would be. Sure, he’ll probably leave alone right now and rot in his estate until he’s got at least half a plan of what to do next, but he knows his guilt will win out and he’ll check on the Kamado siblings eventually. They’ll offer to let him stay with them for the millionth time, and he’ll decline but thank them for the offer. Eventually he’ll go see Urokodaki and thank him for his training, even pay his respects to Sabito as he’s been meaning to do. He’ll have Shinazugawa to visit, which will be awkward and Shinazugawa will probably fight with him over it, but it’s still something to do. And Tokito is here as well, which he’ll keep in mind.
Speaking of, as if on cue, he hears Tokito’s voice filter through the thin walls. It’s much more lively than it ever has been even despite all the tragedy they’ve been through. At least Giyuu can find happiness in that.
“I appreciate your generosity,” the former Mist Pillar says, “but I can find new living accommodations.”
“We insist,” Ubuyashiki Kiriya presses, and Giyuu realizes he’s begun listening in the middle of a longer conversation. “We’re in your debt, Tokito, we could never take away your home.”
Ah, so this is where Tokito lives? That’s a bit of an unusual case. It’s not unheard of for the Ubuyashiki family to take in slayers, but for a Hashira to take up permanent residence with them isn’t all that common. Most are given their own homes- even Giyuu has one despite how little he uses it- but Tokito is quite young. Though Giyuu did hear that Tokito was discovered by the Ubuyashiki themselves before becoming a slayer. Considering his near-constant distraction wouldn’t be good for maintaining a house of his own, it makes sense he’s been living here this entire time. It just never occurred to Giyuu.
Whatever Tokito says in response is lost on Giyuu from the distance and low volume, but it’s followed by more insistent expressions of gratitude and farewells. In a matter of seconds, too soon for Giyuu to decide if he should leave or not, Tokito is stepping out of the room and closing the sliding door behind him, leaving them face to face.
Muted surprise crosses Tokito’s features as he takes in the former Water Hashira, eyes flickering with confusion to see him lingering in the area. Not that Giyuu can blame him, he barely knows why he’s still here.
“Tomioka-san,” he acknowledges him with a nod of his head, keeping his questions to himself regardless of his obvious interest.
He’s a lot different than when Giyuu first met him, he has been since he returned from the Sword Smith Village battle. His emotions shine through his features now, making it easy to read him- or easy for Giyuu. Maybe Tokito is still a mystery to everyone around him, but Giyuu finds that the young boy is… relatable, in a sense. He’s good at appearing apathetic in any context, but the subtle signs (like his narrowed eyes or slightly deepened frown) always hint at how he really feels. Giyuu thinks he can identify it easily because he does the same thing.
“Tokito-san,” he replies, biting back a couple hundred questions on his tongue. Instead he settles on one. “Do you live here?”
He seems to catch the boy off guard, probably expecting to exchange their hellos and be on his way. It makes sense, Giyuu has never been one for talking, much less prying into someone’s personal life, but he’s been working on being more open these days. Being concerned about his fellow Hashira is a good place to start, right?
“I did,” Tokito eventually responds, “the master gave me a room when they found me.”
Did ? Giyuu frowns. Is he going to leave even after he was given the choice to stay? Where will he go? Has Tanjiro offered to let him come along to their home as well? Would Tokito even go for that?
“Where will you go?” He asks instead of voicing the racing thoughts in his head, but the bluntness makes him recoil ever so slightly.
It doesn’t seem to bother Tokito much, who only shrugs. “Somewhere. I’ll figure it out in time, I suppose.”
Such mature words from such a young person. It reminds Giyuu of Sabito in a way, though the admiration is gone in place of a sort of pity. He’s so young, too young to know the horrors of the world as personally as he does. He shouldn’t be figuring out what to do with himself in the aftermath of a war, he should be in a warm home with his family, wasting the days away in their embrace until he can’t physically stand it anymore. Instead, Tokito is here in front of Giyuu deciding to leave the Ubuyashiki estate for the sake of being less of a burden- or, that’s what Giyuu guesses is his motive.
“What about Tanjiro and his family?” There’s no doubt that Tanjiro invited Tokito as well in Giyuu’s mind given how close they’ve become.
Surprisingly, Tokito shakes his head. “He offered, but I’d take up too much room.” But he doesn’t look sad or bothered by it, the problem seems to roll off his back easily despite rendering himself homeless. “And what will you do, Tomioka-san?”
The formal name feels funny coming from him now, like they should be past that at this point. They’ve known each other for years and fought side by side almost to death in the final battle, surely they should be more familiar with one another.
“Just Giyuu is fine,” he tells the young boy, whose eyes subtly widen.
“Okay, then you can call me Muichiro,” he decides, and continues to press, “what will you do, Giyuu?”
That’s been the only question on Giyuu’s mind since he opened his eyes in the infirmary of the Butterfly Estate. What is there to do? He could figure something out with the remainder of his slaying skills, but with his lost arm, he’d have to relearn everything he’s ever been taught for such a futile reason. And beyond that, he doesn’t think he wants to fight anymore. He’s been fighting for far too long, and now is the time he can just finally live…
Even if just living is a bit nauseating for him.
“Go home,” he settles on before the silence can stretch too thin, “live the rest of my life.”
And to further Giyuu’s surprise, Muichiro smiles, giving him an approving nod.
“Good luck, Giyuu.”
Much like a gust of wind, the boy turns around swiftly and walks down the opposite hallway, leaving Giyuu alone with his thoughts once again.
What will he do ? Well that’s easy for Giyuu to answer, isn’t it? He’s already acknowledged that he has more family coming out of the war than he ever expected, he has enough money to retire young and easily, he could do everything or nothing. What he’ll end up doing is go home to his big empty estate and be better off than Muichiro, who is all but a child. A child with nothing but two declined housing invitations, a miraculously still-beating heart, a healing body, and the memories of a war he never should’ve been involved in.
It’s all so wrong, and it pains Giyuu that he can’t fix any of it, but… he has a big empty estate.
“Muichiro,” he calls out before the boy can go too far, just a few steps away from turning the corner.
He stops hesitantly, turning around even slower to meet Giyuu’s eyes. His remaining hand gently traces the wall, and Giyuu follows the motion, thinking about how the two of them aren’t all that different, especially now.
“I have an extra room in my estate,” he explains, trying to keep his voice as monotone as possible, but urgency creeps at the edges of his words.
Again, Muichiro appears unbothered but Giyuu can see the way he tenses at the idea. Is it hope or discomfort? He has no idea. He hopes for the former.
“That’s generous of you…”
Giyuu swallows. Maybe this was a line he shouldn’t have crossed. He cares about the teen, yes, but the majority of time they’ve spent together was before Muichiro could remember anything, and even then it was sparse. A haircut here and a meal there are hardly enough to build a friendship on. There’s no guarantee that means anything to Muichiro, who probably doesn’t remember any of it anyway.
“I don’t think I would be much help to you though.”
Huh ? “Help?”
Muichiro shrugs, “I’m not very good at housework.”
Giyuu frowns, “that’s not why I’m offering.”
“Oh.” He also frowns, eyes drifting to the floor in contemplation, “then why?”
Because you’re a child and you deserve a stable home. Because you’ve been through so much, I want to help where I can. Because I don’t know what I’m doing either but I’d rather not be alone doing it.
“I’d appreciate the company,” is what he settles on.
To his relief, equal to his surprise, Muichiro relents easily, nodding his head once again.
“Okay.”
…
Sanemi should’ve left by now, but circling the Ubuyashiki estate was a more inviting idea than walking off the property entirely and taking the first step toward the rest of his life. Once he leaves that’s it, isn’t it? He’ll go back home, a place he’s refused to think of for years now, and retire. He’s won after all, the full and total defeat of the demons is what he and so many others have been chasing all this time, and he did it. Now it’s time to reap the rewards; it’s time to live his life peacefully as he once wanted… alone… no family, no friends, just the memory of both and the horrible ways he lost them. It’s time to go home.
He goes for another lap around the house.
Walking isn’t helping much either, he depressingly realizes. In his grief he finds that he sees the face of those he lost in everything, every minuscule detail of the world around him- and he knows it’s not real, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. He doesn’t want to see Genya’s eyes in the patterns of the wood pillars holding the house up, he can’t stand hearing the small footsteps echoing throughout the estate and remembering how his siblings’ sounded the same. The warm sunshine on his face feels like his mothers hand. Even the ache of his missing fingers feels like his father’s terrible abuse.
It burns in his stomach like a raging fire. What’s worse is there’s no way for him to expel his energy anymore. He’s not like his fellow surviving Hashira, who lost full arms and hands, but his missing fingers are enough to throw off his grip entirely. If he was to pick up his sword now and hack at some useless log of wood, he’d end up more frustrated than he started just trying to figure out how to hold it again. Not that there’s a point to trying anymore, everything he knows is useless now.
Rounding the corner, just a few steps off of completing his sixth lap, he runs face first into someone, sending them both stumbling back with a pained yelp. Clutching his head, Sanemi opens his eyes and mouth to apologize, but stutters when he sees who he’s collided with.
Of course it’s Tomioka.
“What the fuck are you still doing here?!” He barks as he stands back up, Tomioka following his lead with a grimace.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he quietly mumbles, rubbing his head where the skin has begun to blossom into red.
The way the former Water Hashira looks now is… painfully familiar. His haori slipped off one shoulder, hair a bit messy from the force of his fall, cheeks flushed- from the embarrassment of their collision of course, but that’s not how Sanemi remembers it. It wasn’t that long ago since he’s had Tomioka this way, just a few months ago before… before they decided never again, essentially.
And they don’t talk anymore- not without fighting at least. Maybe that’s why they refuse to meet each other’s eyes now, an awkward silence hanging in the air as they wrack their brains for either something to say or a way to get out of this. Unfortunately, Sanemi can’t forget the last thing he said to Tomioka before the battle either. A fantasy of a promise, one made with the full and total belief that he would die.
“ If we survive, we can talk about this- us .”
Tomioka looked happy then, satisfied with the far away possibility. Maybe it was the notion of them dying on good terms that made him smile before. Now he looks just as nervous and sick as Sanemi feels.
“Shinazugawa,” he breathes through the thick of the tension, his face almost unreadable, but Tomioka is a changed man lately. More smiles, more unguarded expressions. It’s strange. “What will you do now?”
Sanemi narrows his eyes, “it doesn’t concern you.”
If his words affect Tomioka in any way, he doesn’t let it show beyond a slight twitch of his eyebrow. It doesn’t stop him from continuing. “Do you have anyone? A home?”
Irritation prickles under Sanemi’s skin now, feeling as though he’s been asked this question a million times before- and he has, but he was the one asking himself. This is the first time he’s heard it from someone else’s mouth. It makes him feel worse, he discovers.
“The fuck do you care?” He bites, anger getting the best of him before he can think twice about it. Almost immediately, he feels a twinge of guilt poke at his side. Whether that’s from snapping at Tomioka or some other underlying reason he has yet to explore, he doesn’t know yet.
Tomioka remains unfazed. “We’re the only ones left,” he says as if that offers any explanation, “it’s just you, me and Muichiro.”
Yeah, Sanemi got that. It was painfully obvious by that near-empty room littered with five missing presences. But he’s not stupid, he knows what Tomioka is getting at, and he’s not in the mood to dance around it either.
“That doesn’t have to mean anything,” he insists, a touch too harsh.
Tomioka’s eye twitches, but he remains the same, probably expecting an outburst sooner or later given their history with one another. “It does.”
“It does to you .”
“I invited Muichiro to live with me.”
The fuck? Sanemi’s eyes go wide as he processes Tomioka’s blurt of information, followed by a sharp frown and confused grunt. Since when has Tomioka and Tokito been anything other than begrudging acquaintances? Obviously he knew that, in some sense, Tomioka must feel sympathy for the boy, as everyone did seeing someone so young in his position, but enough to offer him a permanent place in his life? Sanemi isn’t sure he would’ve even extended that generosity to the Pillars he considered himself friends with.
“And he accepted. So I want to-“
And he accepted . The whole thing has Sanemi already reeling.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” He blurts, more confusion coating his voice than anger now, mainly trying to understand at this point.
Finally, something real shows on Tomioka’s face. A slight slip of his lips, eyes casting downwards with his eyebrows pulled down in something sad and sympathetic. His throat shakes with the way he tensely swallows, as if thinking about the meaning behind his actions was somehow heavier than the action itself. It probably is.
“He’s a child,” Tomioka whispers, unknowingly punching Sanemi in the gut with it. In truth, Tokito doesn’t exactly fit Sanemi’s definition of a child, and it’s easy to forget given his incredible accomplishments in such a short amount of time. But deep down (well, actually not that deep), he knows that Tokito is only fourteen; he’s sickeningly young for who and what he is.
“I wanted to know if you’d consider coming with us.”
And just like that, any and all sentimental thoughts flee from Sanemi’s mind in place of shock and what he’ll choose to call outrage.
“Are you fucking serious!?” He snaps, resisting the urge to fling his arm out and smack the man in front of him. That makes him feel guilty too, he finds with a grimace.
“It’s just us left,” Tomioka echos from his previous statement.
“Just because it means something to you doesn’t mean I give a shit-“
“Shinazugawa, please .”
His voice is so small and desperate, so unfitting for the image of Tomioka Sanemi has memorized in his head. His face is schooled back to being neutral again, but there’s a frenzy in the corners of his eyes, a strain on his lips like it’s killing him to ask but he’ll surely die if Sanemi declines.
Sanemi doesn’t say a word, too stunned to try, and waits for him to continue.
“I don’t… know what I’m doing,” Tomioka mumbles, “I’ve never taken care of anyone before, I’m not even sure where to start. Especially with,” he glances toward his bandaged shoulder, to the space where his arm once was, “this. I don’t even know how to cook yet.”
Obviously. None of them have been anywhere but the infirmary and the meeting room since the battle.
“You should’ve thought of that before you decided to take him in.”
Tomioka then glares at him, a bit sharper than normal. “He had nowhere to go. I wasn’t going to abandon him.”
Sanemi rolls his eyes. They both know Tokito has people who would take him in if he asked. He’d be surprised if the Kamado siblings didn’t beg him to move in first thing after the battle was over. But, Tomioka has a soft side for children apparently, which is evident in the Kamado siblings being alive in the first place, so maybe Sanemi shouldn’t be surprised after all.
“And what makes you think I can take care of anyone?”
“I know you can.”
… Of course he can. If there’s one thing he knows under all the slaying experience, it’s how to take care of people, especially children. The glaring memory of his lost family sears the back of his mind at the thought. Those days are long gone, he accepted that years ago when he and Genya split. Even if he wanted to help, he’s not cut out for it anymore. That life of caring for people in a tender, intimate way is a fantasy he doesn’t even long for- especially with Tomioka and Tokito of all people? It’s laughable. No, he should move on, try to find a place to apply the last of his skills until he eventually dies of exhaustion or that godforsaken curse. That’s his lot in life, that’s all he’s good for, that’s-
A gentle breeze caresses his ear, ruffling his hair in the quiet movement, and it whispers to him. It whispers in Genya’s voice.
“ I want you to be happy ,” it says, words so painfully familiar to the last things Genya ever said to him.
Would this make him happy? That’s a wild notion, even for him. It feels like his happiness was lost in the wind along with Genya’s scattered ashes. The idea of finding happiness again with some guy he used to hate (and almost loved) and a kid he’s barely spoken to is… wildly outlandish. Would it make him happy? He has no idea. Probably not.
… But it would be nice of him, wouldn’t it?
“This is a terrible idea,” he eventually says, voice dropping so low he wonders if Tomioka will be able to hear it over the breeze, “me and you.”
He does. Sanemi doesn’t know if he’s relieved or bothered by that.
“I know,” Tomioka sighs, a much deeper sadness in his voice than anyone would give from a simple roommate rejection. No, this is much harder than that. “But I can’t ask anyone else.”
You’re all I have left .
Sanemi bites his tongue so hard he legitimately worries he might bite it off. How was it easier to look into the eyes of Muzan, the source of all the tragedy and trauma he’s faced in his life, than it is to make the decision to leave or stay with Tomioka? Why does Tomioka make everything so fucking hard ?
Why is he pretending like he doesn’t know what choice he’s going to make?
“A year.” He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as if that’ll make any of this easier. “I’ll stay with you and the kid for a year until you’ve got yourself figured out, got it?”
Tomioka doesn’t reply, instead letting the silence stretch on for some god forsaken reason. Isn’t this what he wants? Not that he’s a terribly expressive person, but it doesn’t feel too outrageous to expect a thank you.
When Sanemi can’t take it anymore, exactly fifteen seconds after he puts his offer out there, he opens his eyes to find Tomioka… smiling at him. Just like he did in the meeting. Just like he did months ago, years ago, who even knows anymore.
“Thank you, Shinazugawa,” he says, his voice so warm and sweet like it was dipped in sun-soaked honey. It makes Sanemi’s heart do terrible flips that can’t be good for his condition.
“Don’t make me regret it,” Sanemi tries to snap, but it comes out too soft even to his own ears, maybe even afraid.
But Tomioka doesn’t seem to notice, he just nods with that same smile still glued to his face.
“Muichiro is gathering his stuff now. Will we see you this evening?”
Sanemi wonders if Tomioka doesn’t offer to lead him to his estate because he knows they’ll both need a moment to breathe after this, or because he knows Sanemi memorized the way long ago.
“Sure, whatever. I gotta get my stuff too.”
Tomioka nods again, and finally backs up, ready to leave this hallway and the heavy conversation that transpired in it.
“I’ll see you then, Shinazugawa.”
Sanemi doesn’t reply, he probably doesn’t need to. He just watches as Tomioka wanders down the hall he came from, and waits until he’s completely out of sight to drop into a crouch, legs too wobbly to hold him up anymore.
Fuck . What did he just get himself into?