PLEASE NOTE: In order to prevent an overabundance of manga spoilers, this fic does not take place in any canonical timeline. It does take place between Tanjirou completing his final exam and the end of the manga, however.
Secondly, I would like to point out that this fic is actually a rewrite of one of my older stories on FFN, titled "I won't let you forget me". As such, you will see some similarities between the two in terms of plot, although I changed quite a bit in order to fix the errors that can be found in the old version.
For FFN users: This story was crossposted from my AO3 account. As such, the story summary on this site is slightly different compared to how it appears on AO3.
I hope you enjoy this story!
The Butterfly Estate was so beautiful during the springtime that it almost seemed too gorgeous to be real.
The thick rosebushes surrounding the back half of the estate were in full bloom. Crimson reds and soft, pastel pinks contrasted heavily against the dark green leaves and the thin, spidery branches woven between those leaves. Even the violent thunderstorm turning the clouds to the West a deep, roiling shade of black seemed beautiful, all thanks to the cheerful blend of bright and earthy colors spanning from one end of the estate to the other.
The euphoric effect this sort of aesthetic atmosphere had was not lost on young Tanjirou Kamado as he made his way down one of the numerous long corridors within the building itself. It had been a while since his last visit to this particular area, but he'd never truly forgotten how pleasant staying at the estate was.
Tanjirou's bare feet made very little sound against the polished, expensive wooden floor. His dark crimson eyes illuminated by the lanterns hanging down the center of the ceiling above were scanning the wall to his left, searching for the entrance to a particular room. He was in a good mood despite the foul weather outside, humming a little tune to himself. It was an old lullaby he used to sing to his little brothers and sisters to help them sleep at night. It had been a long time since they'd been murdered, so he often forgot how the lullaby went; if he concentrated really hard, he could vaguely recall the words.
Yurikago no uta o kanariya ga utau yo. Nenneko, nenneko, nenneko, yo...
Finally, Tanjirou located the lightweight sliding doors that led into a certain Hashira's private quarters. He smoothed down the fabric of his light blue top, making sure his appearance was somewhat acceptable, before knocking against the doorframe with the back of his hand.
"Tomioka-san?"
As expected, there was no response. Giyuu Tomioka was always in a cold, antisocial mood, but it had only worsened after he had sustained some injuries from the last demon he'd slain. He hadn't really felt up to talking to anyone since reaching the estate, not even to rebuke Shinobu's feeble attempts at drawing him into a petty argument by insisting nobody liked him.
Tanjirou waited another moment and knocked a couple more times before deciding it would be best if he just went in. He'd been instructed by Shinobu herself to make the Water Pillar attend dinner by any means necessary.
"I apologize if I'm interrupting anything," Tanjirou said, as he pushed the sliding door open. "Shinobu-san wouldn't take no for an answer this time, she wants you to come out and see other people. She says that your external injuries may be healing but your social awkwardness can only be mended by exposure to other human beings."
The redheaded boy immediately trailed off when he realized Giyuu had fallen asleep. The room was simply decorated, with an olive-green mat on the floor against the far wall for sleeping and a desk and chair against the wall to the right. The desk was topped with an open jar of ink and a fine-tipped pen. It seemed Giyuu had grown tired while working, for he had fallen asleep with his face buried in his forearms, which were propped up on the rough, stained wood of the desk. He had reluctantly complied with Shinobu's rule that anyone staying in the estate had to wear the same light blue garments to distinguish them from the assistants and trainees, but he'd also refused to give up his haori in the same breath. The half-maroon, half green-and-yellow garment was draped loosely over his shoulders like a blanket.
Tanjirou silently made his way across the room to the sleeping Hashira's side and reached out to lightly shake his shoulder. The boy froze, fingers twitching uncertainly, when he noticed the parchment paper on the desk.
It appeared Giyuu had been drawing before he fell asleep. The yellowish piece of parchment depicted a beautiful sketch of a boy with shaggy hair falling to his shoulders, slanted eyes, and subtly defined muscular features that made him seem both soft and incredibly dangerous at the same time. There was a long, jagged scar slashed across the right side of his face, from the corner of his lip to just beneath his ear. He was beautiful, in a rugged sort of way. He looked extremely familiar.
It's that boy who helped me break my boulder on Sagiri Mountain! Tanjirou's eyes widened slightly at the realization. What was his name again? I think it started with an S...
He realized that he shouldn't be intruding in the first place, let alone studying what was most likely supposed to be a private drawing, and immediately came to his senses. He grabbed Giyuu by the shoulder and lightly shook him.
"Tomioka-san? Can you hear me? Oh goodness, I'm so sorry for waking you. Shinobu-san wanted me to fetch you. She expects you to attend dinner with her and the rest of the estate tonight, no exceptions."
Giyuu stirred, cerulean eyes fluttering open and immediately focusing on the boy standing beside his chair. "Mmf. Tanjirou? What on earth are you doing in here?"
Giving off no indication that he was upset with the disturbance, he slowly sat up, wincing in pain. It seemed his injuries were still bothering him.
"My apologies." Tanjirou dipped into a low bow before continuing. "You didn't answer when I knocked, and Shinobu-san told me to get you out of here no matter what. I figured it wouldn't hurt anything if I came in."
"That sounds like something she would do. Enough with the foolish bowing, I'm not upset at all." Giyuu waved a hand dismissively. His long, thick black hair, which was currently tied back in a low ponytail, spilled down his back in a disheveled mess. "Let her know that I don't really feel up to attending dinner tonight."
"She also told me not to accept anything other than an agreement, even if I have to drag you out of here." Tanjirou stated, with a deadpan look on his face.
"Of course she did."
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter."
"Hmm." Giyuu glanced sidelong at the desk, eyes briefly passing over the drawing he'd done. "I'll bet you had no idea I'm a bit artistical when I want to be."
Tanjirou recognized this as an attempt to stall, but his curiosity made him respond in kind. "No, I didn't. In fact, I've never seen anything like this before. Did you model it after someone you know?"
A soft sigh left Giyuu's lips. There was unmistakable loneliness reflected in those deep, dark blue eyes of his. "How'd you figure that out so fast?"
"Well, I think it was drawn too masterfully to have been done purely from imagination. It looks less like a drawing and more like a moment frozen in time." Tanjirou said.
"You're much too observant for your own good." the ravenet picked up the drawing and turned it over, hiding the beautiful ink masterpiece scrawled into the parchment.
Feeling slightly miffed with the older male's stoicism, Tanjirou decided to press the issue. "Who is it? He kind of looks familiar to me. I think I've met him before."
"There's no way you could've done that. He's been dead for a very long time." Giyuu abruptly pushed his chair back and stood up in one swift, fluid motion. There was something abnormally urgent in his actions, indicating that he had become extremely uncomfortable and wanted to leave.
"Huh." Tanjirou stared at the overturned piece of parchment for a moment longer as if he could pull the ink drawing through to the other side by sheer force of willpower before returning his attention to his mentor. "Does this mean you're actually gonna come to dinner?"
"You just got done telling me I don't have a choice thirty seconds ago."
"Fair enough. I'm just surprised that it actually worked. You and I both know I don't have it in me to force you out of the room like Shinobu-san seems to think I do."
Giyuu let out a low chuckle, slipping his hands through the long, baggy sleeves of his haori so it wouldn't slide off his shoulders. "Oh, I know. I just don't want to annoy Shinobu any more than I already have. She isn't above throwing me out of the estate and leaving me to rot in the rain, you know."
A grin spread across Tanjirou's sun-tanned face. "Thank goodness. Nezuko's been missing you." he said, following Giyuu out of the well-lit room.
"Oh, has she? That's different. I didn't know she was capable of telling you such things, what with her being unable to speak and all." Giyuu raised one eyebrow at the boy walking along beside him, blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
"That's not what I mean and you know it. She didn't verbally tell me. But I know she misses you. After all, you're like our very own Onii-chan. I'd be offended if she didn't miss you at least a little bit." Tanjirou said.
The Hashira hesitated. He'd never been called a big brother before and didn't really know how he felt about it right away. Deciding it best to change the subject, he said, "And how are Zenitsu and Inosuke doing? I trust they stopped acting like hooligans, yes?"
"Feh. I wish I could say they did, but... well... Inosuke never seems to tire of traumatizing Zeni. Just this morning I had to stop Inosuke from chasing the poor fella around the estate. Shinobu-san says she would've tried to break things up herself, but watching them run around at top speed was far more amusing." Tanjirou fidgeted with the cuffed end of his sleeve, eyes fixated on the floor. He loved talking with his raven-haired friend like this, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. "You really are good at drawing, Tomioka-san. That portrait was stunning. I seriously feel like I know that person."
"I told you already that he's dead. He's been dead. There's no way you could've met him." was Giyuu's stern response. His facial expression had hardened into something much less warm and friendly.
"Well... a boy just like him helped me break my boulder while training under Urokodaki-san on Sagiri Mountain." Tanjirou glanced up at the Water Pillar with a troubled frown. "He wore one of those protective fox masks, so I know he was one of Urokodaki-san's students. I think he may have been a spirit, though. He and the girl that was with him vanished after I killed that hand demon lurking in the Final Exam."
At the words hand demon, Giyuu visibly flinched and looked away, as if the mention of such a vile creature pained him. "That's the same demon that's been hunting down and feeding on specifically Urokodaki's students for the past several years. The spirit you saw on the mountain could've been anybody."
"But how many people bear the same scar on their cheek as the one in your drawing? I'm pretty sure it was him just from that. Not to mention the other striking similarities."
"Drop it, Tanjirou."
Tanjirou cringed. There was a sharpness to Giyuu's voice that made the redhead feel the same way he did when he got scolded for being too rowdy as a child, long before his mother was killed. He hated that feeling. It meant he had gone too far and legitimately upset someone close to him.
"I'm sorry, Tomioka-san. I was wrong to bring it up again." Tanjirou clasped his hands together and bowed his head remorsefully.
Giyuu sighed again. "It's alright. Curiosity's in your nature. I was the same way when I was your age."
"Hey, now. You're not that old." Tanjirou sensed the tense atmosphere between them dissipating, much to his relief.
"Not physically, no." Giyuu said, tucking his hands into the warm folds of his haori, pressing his palms flush against his ribcage. "You'll learn with time that this sort of business makes even young men feel much older than they really are."
Tanjirou frowned again. He understood to some extent what that meant. After seeing so much death, violence, and anguish, he didn't really feel like a fifteen-year-old boy anymore. He could only imagine how twenty-one-year-old Giyuu, who'd been a demon slayer for a lot longer, must feel.
The two walked the rest of the way to the mess hall in companionable silence, choosing to simply enjoy each other's company rather than exchange conversation.
The pleasant buzz of conversation accompanied by numerous familiar, welcoming scents reached Tanjirou the moment he stepped into the mess hall. He didn't really understand how such a beautiful room could be called a mess hall anyway. There was a stunning mural depicting butterflies of every shape, size, and color stretching across the left wall and crystal light fixtures hanging from the high, triangular ceiling. There were simple wooden tables and benches set up from one end of the room to the other, lined with dozens of people in various states of dress. The young women living at the estate wore a dark blue uniform with white trim, while the guests wore that same pale blue garb that made them stand out starkly against the other people in the room.
He smiled to himself, eyes scanning over the assembled crowd in an attempt to find his two friends. It didn't take him long to locate Zenitsu's vibrant, yellow-blonde hair and Inosuke's large, shaggy boar head he always wore as a sort of mask whenever he went out in public.
"Tomioka-san? Will you be sitting with us today?" Tanjirou asked, turning to the tall man beside him.
Giyuu grimaced and shook his head no. "I'm afraid not. How did I let you talk me into this again? There are far too many people crammed into this one room for my tastes."
"Well, if it isn't Giyuu Tomioka himself." a familiar feminine voice reached both their ears at the same time.
They turned their heads to see a small, slender woman with a curvaceous figure and rounded violet eyes approaching them. Her white haori bearing the black markings of a butterfly's wings rustled softly with every movement she made.
"Rats." Giyuu hunched his shoulders forward much like a vulture might, making a point to ignore the Insect Pillar's approach.
Tanjirou patted the taller male's shoulder sympathetically as Shinobu walked right up to them with one petite hand planted on her hip.
"I mean no offense, but I doubted even young Tanjirou would be able to coax you out of your room. I really did think I'd have to come down there myself and beat you unconscious just so I could drag you in here." Shinobu stated, with just a little too much sugar in her voice. Her calm, placid smile never seemed to reach her eyes, which were as cold and hard as purple onyx stones. "It's wonderful to finally have you joining us, my dear."
Giyuu kept his gaze fixated on the ground in front of him as if he had found something immensely interesting to look at in the wooden planks making up the floor. He grimaced and shifted his weight from one foot to the other before saying, "I suppose."
Is that the best response he has? Tanjirou wondered, giving the Water Pillar a wide-eyed stare. Is he really so scared of Shinobu-san that he can't think of something clever to say?
Shinobu tilted her head to one side, regarding Giyuu with that same tranquil expression on her face that never changed regardless of the circumstance. "I don't know how I feel about the haori, though. Makes it more difficult to see the fabric beneath. You should be aware that I don't like disorganization, especially not within my own estate."
"Last I checked, you originally set up designated outfits like this for the sake of distinguishing the guests from the people that live here. I think you can tell who I am just fine no matter what I'm wearing. After all, you did come over here to mess with me about a minute after I stepped foot within this room. It's safe to say you have no problems identifying me." Giyuu frowned and pulled the ends of his haori closer around him in an almost protective manner.
"I can't recall a time when I've seen you go without that dusty old thing." Shinobu paused for a moment before shrugging carelessly. "Well, what can you do when you're dealing with the most stubborn Hashira on the planet? Mind if I sit with you today, Tomioka?"
"Uhhh... I'd rather you didn't, but it's not like I can stop you anyway. Sit where you want." still clutching the open ends of his mismatched haori to his chest, Giyuu made his way to the nearest empty bench that was as far away from other humans as possible.
As expected, Shinobu followed him. Tanjirou decided it would be best to leave them alone for now and wandered across the room to the table where his friends were seated.
Giyuu slid onto the bench with his usual fluid grace, Shinobu at his heels. He wasn't particularly interested in talking with her at the moment because he was pretty sure she just wanted to torment him more, but at the same time, he didn't have it in him to put effort into making her go away. He sighed and drew his knees up to his chest, propping his feet up on the bench.
"What is it with you and staying organized, anyway?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"I don't know. I just like it that way. That, and I know how introverted you are. I don't want you drawing attention to yourself and becoming uncomfortable, that's all." Shinobu replied, picking at a small stain on the wooden bench with her long, delicate fingers. "Nobody really understands why your haori looks the way it does, Tomioka. The yellow and the red clash horribly, if I'm being completely honest with you."
Giyuu shot her a look that implied he was not amused. "Trust me, it's important. There's a reason I never take it off while I'm in public like this."
"Seems you've got a reason for everything, dearie. That's why people don't like you."
Giyuu's frown deepened. The Insect Pillar still couldn't go longer than five minutes without reminding him that he wasn't exactly popular amongst the Hashira. Because of his cold, distant behavior, they all just left him alone and kept a safe distance most of the time. He didn't mind it, but it certainly didn't help that Shinobu was constantly rubbing it in his face.
He decided it would be best not to respond to her. Shinobu would only laugh at him if he tried to insist that people did in fact like him. She seemed to have completely forgotten about Tanjirou, Nezuko, Zenitsu, and Inosuke. After all, those four were like his little siblings. He felt responsible for the lot of them and wanted nothing more than to keep them safe. In turn, they looked up to him and kept him company when he wasn't busy with demon-slaying assignments.
A handful of Shinobu's assistants came creeping into the room a few minutes later. They were all young girls that couldn't have been more than twelve years old, their hair pinned back with decorative butterfly clips. They were carrying trays of food, which they handed out to every table they passed. Whenever they ran out of trays, they'd retreat from the room for a few moments only to return with more. Before long, everyone had been given a bowl of udon.
Giyuu ate his meal in silence, though the same could not be said for his female companion. She chattered idly about this and that, going on about silly things like the weather, the condition of the gardens surrounding the estate, the other Hashira and their whereabouts, etc. She didn't seem to mind at all that the Water Pillar was only half listening. It was highly likely she'd never grow tired of talking to him about everything that popped into her head, despite his unresponsiveness. She was good at concealing her insensitive, harsh manner of speaking with what appeared to be a bright, bubbly personality. In short, she was annoying at times.
Meanwhile, the Water Pillar was completely lost in thought. He found that, if he focused on something solid and unmoving, he could completely tune out everyone else in the room. He was aware that his decision to keep his haori on despite Shinobu's strict dressing protocol attracted a lot of unwanted attention from the other people in the mess hall. He received a lot of curious, judgmental stares from both young men and women alike, but he pretended not to notice. After all, it would take a lot more than this sort of negative publicity to cow him into removing his haori. Though it seemed like a mismatched article of clothing to everyone else, it held great significance to him.
I wonder what they'd say if they all knew I made the green and yellow half from the fabric of my dead friend's kimono. I'd like to think they'd be a little less judgmental if they understood the importance of such a thing. Giyuu thought to himself as he finished off the last of his udon and became painfully aware of all the commotion in the room. The most disturbing of said commotion was Shinobu's voice.
"...and I understand fully that you didn't hear a single word I just said, but that's alright. How was your meal?"
The raven-haired Hashira glanced sidelong at her, trying not to grimace. "It was good as always. Be sure to thank your assistants on my behalf." he said, keeping his tone and facial expression as polite as possible.
"I will. That's very kind of you to say. I wasn't aware you had a heart beneath that cold exterior of yours, my dear." Shinobu cocked her head to one side like a bird, setting her chopsticks down and running a hand through her slick black hair, which was tied back in a fancy bun pinned up with a large butterfly clip similar to the ones all her assistants and trainees wore.
"Thanks, you too." forgetting entirely to mind his passive-aggressive tone, Giyuu stood up and plucked his empty bowl off the table, intending to take it to the kitchens and wash it. Regardless of the hospitality offered at the estate, he refused to let anyone else clean up his own mess. Master Urokodaki had taught him better than that. "I think I'm going to retire for the night. Thank you again."
After dipping his head respectfully in Shinobu's general direction, he turned and made his way out of the room as quickly as possible, not wanting to stick around long enough to hear her response.
"Tomioka-san!" a tiny hand took hold of Giyuu's sleeve and tugged on it twice.
He glanced down to see Zenitsu walking along at his side. "Oh, hello. Did you and your friends enjoy dinner?"
"We did! I wish Nezuko could've actually eaten with us, though. She mostly slept through everything." Zenitsu beamed. His honey-golden eyes caught the light of the lit lanterns dangling from the ceiling so perfectly that they seemed to be glowing from within, like the embers of a newborn flame. "I also wish you would've sat with us."
"My apologies, I didn't feel like being social today. You remembered to thank the young ladies for the food, right?" Giyuu raised one eyebrow in question.
Neither one of them was aware that Tanjirou had come up behind them during their conversation until he suddenly jumped in. "Of course we did! What do you take us for, a band of hooligans?"
"To be fair, I thought we were a band of hooligans too." Zenitsu muttered.
Giyuu shot the blonde a grimly amused look.
"The hell did you just say about me? I'm gonna kill you!" Inosuke came running out of nowhere, making an honest attempt to tackle Zenitsu to the ground.
Fortunately, Tanjirou saw it coming and swatted Inosuke over the head hard enough to make him stop dead in his tracks for a moment, stunned. "We've been over this, Inosuke. No tackling Zeni. It's not nice." the redhead stated, his tone and facial expression completely calm.
Zenitsu let out a squeak of fright and immediately moved to hide behind the Hashira. "If any one of us is a hooligan here, it's definitely Inosuke!"
"He won't bother you. Tanjirou's got him under control for now." Giyuu said, reaching down and patting Zenitsu's head reassuringly. "I'll be retiring for the night once I wash this dish, so I trust you'll supervise these two until they wear themselves out and go to sleep, yes?"
The blonde nodded, still eyeing Inosuke warily. "They're both absolutely bonkers, but I'll do my best."
Something Giyuu had learned through the time he'd spent with these three lively teenaged boys was that Tanjirou was like the ringleader of the group. However, Zenitsu was infinitely jealous of the redheaded boy for a wide variety of reasons, so Giyuu compensated for that by asking Zenitsu to do little things, like supervise the other two for the night. It made the little blonde feel important, which helped eliminate the fact he would occasionally get on Tanjirou's nerves with his openly envious behavior.
The three boys followed Giyuu all the way down to the kitchens before wandering off to find something to do before bed. They tended to sleep a lot later than most of the adult demon slayers because of their youthful energy, so they needed some sort of distraction to keep them entertained until they felt tired enough to go to bed.
Giyuu slipped his arms out of his haori, leaving it draped loosely around his shoulders instead. There was a dish basin filled with warm water and soap suds in one corner of the room, a soaked rag hanging over the edge haphazardly. He made his way over to the basin, rolling his sleeves up as he did so he wouldn't ruin his clothing. Normally, it wouldn't have taken him very long to wash a single dish. After all, he hated spending unnecessary amounts of time on simple activities. But tonight, he kept getting distracted by memories of a boy with long, shaggy, salmon-colored hair and lavender purple eyes that always seemed to be deadset with seriousness.
Giyuu could recall the time he lived with Urokodaki when he was only thirteen years old and had nowhere else to go. That same boy from his memories would help him wash the dishes every night. Their small, deft hands would carefully work over the delicate pieces of porcelain in tandem, and the only audible sound in the room would be the sloshing of water and their young, high-pitched voices making small talk with one another.
If Giyuu tried hard enough, he could almost remember what the other boy's voice sounded like.
"Giyuu! It's not manly to dry dishes that still have stains on them! Put that plate back in the water before I clobber you!"
The raven-haired Hashira sighed upon the realization that he'd been standing in front of the dish basin for the past three minutes, absentmindedly working the soaked rag over the bowl he'd brought in. Needless to say, the bowl was absolutely spotless. He stepped away from the basin and quickly located a dish towel sitting on a granite countertop about five feet to one side. Once the bowl was dry, he put it away with all the other clean dishes and retreated to his room.
There were a few of Shinobu's older assistants wandering the corridors of the estate, chattering in hushed voices amongst themselves. They didn't pay Giyuu any mind as he hurried past them, and their voices faded into the background within thirty seconds.
The sound of rain pattering against the roof caught his attention. It had been a long while since he'd seen such stormy conditions at the estate. It was usually very bright and sunny, with the exception of a few puffy cumulus clouds drifting lazily through the vast expanse of blue. But when it did rain, it usually came in the form of giant, roiling thunderheads that took up the entire sky as far as the eye could see, bringing torrential downpours that left everything completely drenched.
He wondered when the storm would let up. It wouldn't take long for his injuries to heal completely, and he was eager to go back out and slay more demons. It made him wonder how many lives had been lost while he was recovering. Lives he could've saved had he not been injured. Demons were the scum of the earth as far as he was concerned. Although he understood they needed to eat humans to survive, he also knew firsthand how painful and traumatic it was to lose someone you loved to a demon's ravenous appetite.
It didn't take him long to locate his private quarters. He was smart enough to choose a room close to the mess hall in the odd event Shinobu forced him to attend dinner with her, which she had an odd habit of doing every so often. She somehow convinced herself that forcing him into social situations were comparable to exposure therapy and that she was reducing his introverted, antisocial tendencies. If anything, she was only making it worse. But he didn't have the heart to tell her that, and she probably wouldn't believe him anyway.
Giyuu slid the lightweight door open and stepped inside the warm, welcoming atmosphere of his room, immediately feeling as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He relished the simple comfort he found in being completely and utterly isolated from the rest of the world.
He pushed the door shut behind him, and set about getting himself ready for bed. He ran a comb through his long black hair, pulling the thin, translucent elastic out of it and allowing it to tumble freely down his back. After working out the few tangles he found in the silky strands, he put the comb away and curled up on the sleeping mat on the floor. Once again, he found himself lost in memories of the time he spent with that same boy, the one depicted in the drawing sitting face-down on the desk a few feet away from his sleeping mat.
"Hold your sword higher, baka. You'll never get any better at sparring unless you actually put some effort into keeping your weapon at an acceptable height."
"I'm sorry, Sabito. Can we try again? Please? I promise I'll try harder!"
"Hehe, alright. But only if you hold your sword properly. I'm tired of just whacking you around."
"Okay! I swear I'll beat you this time!"
"Ha, that'll be the day..."
Giyuu drew his knees up to his chest and closed his eyes as both his younger self's voice and the voice of the other boy faded away. This was normal for him, as difficult as that may be to believe. Every single day, he was faced with old memories of voices, images, things he'd done. He supposed it was a result of the fact that the salmon-haired boy had been his entire world before he died. Giyuu had never been able to stop thinking about Sabito, not even after losing him forever.
Sabito was so strong and confident, a natural-born leader who always seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He had loved taking Giyuu by hand and leading him all around Sagiri Mountain, showing him the best places to view the stars at night and the most beautiful wildflowers springing out of the ground. With Sabito in front of him, Giyuu had felt confident, too. His insecurities seemed to melt away for a little while, replaced by a sense of safety and contentment. But without Sabito, Giyuu was lost. He'd been lost ever since the day that cursed hand demon killed his best friend.
It was so unfair that the most beautiful, talented people in the world tended to die a lot faster than everyone else.
Giyuu drifted off to sleep with the conversation he'd had with Tanjirou earlier in mind. What if the boy really had encountered Sabito on Sagiri Mountain? What did that mean if it was true? And, most importantly, did that make it possible Sabito's spirit was still there? If Giyuu was being completely honest with himself, he'd give absolutely anything just to see his beloved friend just one last time, even if only for a few moments.
A/N: I spent between four and five days on this single chapter, in all honesty. It took me a very long time before that to work up the nerve to rewrite what I considered to be a faulty fic. As such, I spent quite a while on editing and proofreading to try and iron out as many mistakes as humanely possible. However, if you catch any mistakes I may have missed, please let me know.
Thank you very much for reading! Any comments/kudos would be very much appreciated. Stay safe and take care of yourselves, have a lovely day.