The moment lengthened, drawing uncomfortably out. "Are you certain?" She didn't precisely know why she asked. Nezuko looked into Kanao's eyes, trying not to let the discrepancy so obvious in her features bother her. One might hope that after living a couple of years as a demon, something other than human in any event, such minute details as mismatched eyes would not affect her in the slightest. And yet something within her, something which eased at a glance of symmetry, warned her away from the straightforward, if somewhat heavy gaze of the other. "I would not wish to impose."
"She would not want them to go unused." Emotion welled in one expressive eye. Nezuko would have asked her why she did not take the garments for herself, but stopped herself short, fearing her tongue would get her in trouble. It was too personal a question towards another soul whom she quite liked, but did not presume to know too well. "They will fit you better than the one you wear now."
Looking down at the three kimonos, surely a treasure the likes of which she had never seen before, she found herself frowning. They were unfortunately none of them anything she might wear o her trip to the market, though they were as lovely as one might wish.
The first of the selection was a peach coloured tomosode with a bright floral pattern. Leaves and petals twirled up to just above knee-height, bright reds, soft pinks and deep honey-browns along with the occasional dash of white and green played out along the sturdy cloth. Three crests adorned the canvas further, marking the garment for the formal wear it was. She wondered how much coin it should have cost her to make such a purchase and sighed, knowing all too well that selling even ten baskets of coal, her poor brother would have had a difficult time of making such a purchase.
A second kimono presenting itself in the form of a persimmon huomongi with branches and leaves; it called to mind a mild autumn day sitting on the porch enjoying the warm brush of a waning sun. It was equally as beautiful as its brethren but nowhere near as formal. And yet somehow, it would not do to walk around in such garb unless she were paying a visit. Not that she had anyone to go to and as such the kimono would not see use from her quarter.
The last one, a furisode of deep blue colour which undoubtedly had suited someone Kocho Sinobu's refined taste seemed much too daring, too mature a fit for Nezuko. It made her feel like a young girl attempting to run about with her older sister's finery. Had she had any finery of her own, Hanako would have doubtlessly enjoyed prancing about in them. The sobering thought, that her young, too soon perished, sister would never achieve such a feat gnawed at her momentarily as her eyes admired the noshi bundle with its elegant patterns running over the panels.
Biting her lower lip, she stared at the garments with what must have been obvious longing, yet did not speak the words of acceptance. Stalling for time was her only option unless she wished to speak of her own inadequacies. "You are very kind to offer these to me. I cannot rightly say how fortunate any girl would be to hold such bounty." Kanao folded her hands in her lap, a demure gesture leveraging the kindness of her gesture against her own misgivings. It was not that Kanao demanded an answer, but rather that she did not expect one which goaded Nezuko into speaking once more. Unbidden and unrestrained why what should have been common sense if not courtesy, she ploughed on heedlessly, "I cannot think that any of these would suit me, much as I admire the craftsmanship that went into their creation."
"Why?" Such a simple question requited so complicated an answer that for a moment, Nezuko floundered. Helplessly, she looked about as though she might pull her explanations out of thin air. Kanao must have thought her confused, for she clarified in her calm manner, "Why should they not suit you?"
Because she had seen the woman who once wore them and the thought of donning any of these while knowing she would never in a thousand years compare sparked a tiny flare within her. It was a point of pride. Her mother had always said that one should not aspire to undeserved rewards. And yet she would have been only too happy to claim any of the pieces for her own. "I am not a grand lady for fine clothing."
"I want you to have them. It would gladden my heart to see them worn." Any and all responses escaped Nezuko in that instance. That was quite as long a speech as Kanao had ever made towards her. The words were uttered with a steely edge of conviction beneath the thin veneer of politeness that would not stand for refusal. She was not to opposed, Nezuko understood, on pain of wounding the other.
Her heart softened towards the gift. She took another look at the three kimonos. "They are so very lovely." The musing was met with a gentle smile, almost maternal in quality. "I would still not have any occasion to wear them, but if you would have them in my care, I shan't naysay you."
It was that moment that Aoi chose to announce her presence, voice rising over the muted noise of an ever shifting world. "Kanao, may I come in?" The question was answered without delay and Aoi entered, carrying a bundle in her arms. She sported a satisfied grin in spite of the light beads of sweat dotting her forehead. "You won't believe how long–" The words died upon her lips as soon as her eyes came upon Nezuko. Her smile faltered, though she did not seem distressed. "Well, shall I give it to her now?" At a nod from Kanao, Aoi approached and placed the bundle before her before sitting down, making herself comfortable. "Take a look and see if you like it."
With trembling fingers, she unmade the knot of the cheerfully-patterned cloth and found her lap overrun with flowering camellias and vivid daises strewn over circling strokes of bright colours. Just beneath, a dark green length, reminiscent of verdant forests at their peak, pleated gently fold over fold, a smattering of small white flowers falling just above the hem.
Unabashedly, Aoi studied her reaction with wide, mirthful eyes. "I inhaled enough dust to last me a lifetime for this," she said, albeit Nezuko could not tell whether she spoke to her or to Kanao. "But it seems it was worth the effort. Say, Nezuko, you wouldn't dare refuse me after all this effort, would you?"
As manipulative techniques went, Aoi wielded a manner to bash a nail repeatedly over the head. As the nail in that metaphor, Nezuko found she could either yield under the blows, or she could refuse, thereby being twisted into an unsightly form. As choices went, it was quite the easiest she had yet made. Thus her head moved in a shallow nod, arms holding her newfound treasure to the chest. "I will repay your kindness, naturally," she was saying then for the benefit of both women seated before her. Only that she did not yet know how to go about it. Helping out in the kitchens for her board and meals had seemed an acceptable enough trade, but she did not expect it would cover their latest benevolence.
"If you feel you must," Aoi shrugged, missing the way Kanao looked upon her just then, the hint of reprove lost. Clearing her throat, the newest arrived, pointed to the offering she had brought. "But I must tell you, these would have likely been forgotten somewhere in some dusty corner if not for you. I rather think these patterns will appreciate being worn."
Hadn't Kanao said precisely the same thing, albeit in her own way? Nezuko felt her face heat up with both pleasure and a smidgeon of embarrassment. "I would still like to express proper gratitude," she answered doggedly, gently putting away the hakama and kofurisode. She planted her palms close together upon the wooden floors and offered her bows, first to Kanao, then to Aoi. It was not much, she realised all too well, but it would do until she realised just what she how she might go about giving them a proper return for their care.
Somewhat eased thereafter, she lifted her head and straightened her back. Realisation dawned upon her as her lips stretched in a smile. She very nearly missed Aoi's insistent question regarding the cause of her good humour. "It occurs to me," she began with a slight hesitation, "that, and petty as the thought is, I cannot help myself, I now have a far greater collection of stunning garb than I've any right to possess."
"Wear them well," Aoi countered, clearly pleased with herself. It seemed that her arrival worked to unburden Kanao from the obligation of speech. "By the by, I saw some of the crows returning." That was most welcome news, Nezuko thought. Tanjirou had been worried about the slayers who'd taken up cleaning duties. It was true that any remaining demon was bound to be weak and weaker yet for their progenitor having perished, but they could still deal considerable damage.
"Would you like some help with the beds?" She had spent more than enough time about the mansion to have picked up at least some knowledge of cleansing a wound and wrapping it properly. As long as poison was not involved, she could even carry such a task to the very end on her own. Aoi nodded eagerly.
"You as well Kanao. The exercise will do you good." Kanao maintained her inscrutable expression, but stood to her feet nevertheless, her agreement silent, but no more difficult to understand than anything else about her.
Outside crows were circling in the air, their cawing piercing. Even with diminished human eyesight, Nezuko managed to pick out Kanzaburo from among his brethren. She called out to him, only mildly surprised when the bird paused, wings flapping frantically to keep him afloat. It took a moment, but the creature dashed towards her at great speed. Nezuko held her arm out in invitation, guessing his aim well enough. "Welcome home, Kanzaburo. You must be hungry after your journey."
Crows were always hungry, however. And so, food was forever on hand. As per usual, small bits of fruit, along with nuts and thin strips of cooked meat made up the meal. It was good enough food that not even a human could complain, albeit somewhat lacking in the spices department. While crows were not picky eaters as a general rule, it did pay to look after one's helpers. Once the birds had been fed, they made off to their nests and Nezuko followed Aoi in time to catch sight of the attendants helping one slayer or another to a bed.
Much like she had picked out his crow among the crowd of fluttering feathers, Nezuko's sight was drawn to the familiar figure of Giyuu. Quite without meaning to, she found herself walking towards the man, calling out his name. In response, he turned his head towards the sound. "Nezuko." His voice was flat, his eyes did not even spark with recognition. In spite of that, she somehow had the certainty that he was glad to see her; or as glad as he could be of anything.
"Were you injured?" she questioned, tempering the smile that threatened to emerge. By manner of response he held out his hand. Someone had made a rather crude wrapping, but the cloth was stained with blood and darkened by dust. Careful of what might be beneath, Nezuko worked the knot loose in as gentle a fashion as she could, battling the urge to pester her patient with questions as she did so. If he were Tanjirou, she would not have shied from demanding to know why he had even allowed himself to be injured, heaping a healthy portion of chastisement upon him. But he was not her brother. Unwrapping the makeshift bandages exposed a deep, curving wound.
In spite of the bleeding, she could make out the colour of the flesh around the wound well enough to note with mounting relief that no manner of infection afflicted him, nor were there signs of poisoning. Her shoulders sagged. "This will need stitches," she pointed out, waiting for just the length of a heartbeat before lifting her eyes to his. Charitably, she offered him a choice. "Aoi could take care of it for you."
Hemp leaves on pale pink fields swam in his vision. Giyuu blinked at the familiar pattern, the even more familiar voice and the involuntary recognition of small, neat hands folded together demurely. "Nezuko," he spoke her name more by way of greeting than anything else, lifting his gaze to her face. He experienced a moment of wonder at her continued presence within the Butterfly Mansion, but then she spoke, asking after his injuries and he found her touch, when she bestowed it upon him rather calming. He was glad then. Nimble fingers tugged on the knot holding his bandages together. She peeled away the strips of cloth and her brow furrowed as she made a study of his wound.
As injuries went, he had had much worse. But the way she tensed while her gaze roamed the slash only to relax moments later when it became apparent he was nowhere near grave peril conjured a vague sense of compassion within his chest. She spoke again after, asking him if she should cal Aoi. "You do it," he answered, more than certain she could manage it.
Nezuko's eyes met his own, wide orbs looking almost startled. As though she had not expected that he would trust her enough. Curbing the impulse to show amusement at the reaction, he merely lowered his gaze until it rested on the injury as she moved to the side, presumably to prepare what was needed. Dainty fingers tugged his arm into her lap. With a soft cloth she washed the abused flesh, her movements slow and careful. Once satisfied with her work, she reached to the side for needle and thread. He suspected the slowness of her movements was for his benefit as well as hers, thus did not rush her. Instead he watched her work, wondering where she had gained such skill.
Pain licked along the length of his arm as her needle pierced the skin. The stab was not deep and the thin silken thread she used to make the first bind to the wound would not cause too much pain when it came the time to be removed. A low burn settled along the skin she drew together. It was not unbearable, but it certainly made him itch to draw away. He kept still nevertheless.
"How did it happen?" The question startled him. The limb in Nezuko's lap trembled and she paused mid-motion sending him a reproving look. "You must keep still. Well then, will you tell me?" He debated with himself whether he ought to say anything or merely let the subject fade.
"Adapting takes time." Confusion clouded her expression but soon enough it was cleared away by dawning understanding. He steeled himself against the pity that was sure to follow. Her gaze softened as did the straight line of her lips. There was indeed sympathy that he saw in her eyes, yet she had tempered it with something akin to trust; mingled together those two danced.
"But you slew the demon." It was not a question. She did not request an answer out of his, but the words did require it. Thus he dipped his head in affirmation. "Good." She exhaled, the sound almost a sigh. "I am very glad."
He had seen her fight when she'd had demon blood coursing through her veins. Tanjirou's softness towards accursed creatures seemed not to have rubbed off on his sister. Her needle continued its work and he went on studying her, waiting for whatever else she might say. Her was not conversation that he minded. Nezuko had a nice voice, high and clear as a thousand tiny bell tinkling with an undertone of warmth. It reminded him of his sister's voice in some ways; both held a gentle openness, giving their possessors an air of approachability. Pulled from his thoughts by a stray movement, he found Nezuko's expectant expression. "I beg your pardon?" Had she said something to him?
"I said I shall warp the wound now." He nodded, allowing her to move his arm from her lap. As soon as her hands were gone he found he missed the contact. Dull throbbing alerted him to the uncomfortable stiffness of his limb. At least he had not lost another arm. That was something to be thankful for.
Nezuko returned with clean bandages. The strips of cloth were moist with some concoction Aoi had created to fend off infection. The scent was strong, with just a hint of bitterness to it. Once applied to the wound, its sting added to the pain before heating the flesh up only to rapidly cool it down. Keeping his expression from showing any of his discomfort, Giyuu breathed in through his nose, willing his body to relax. Over those bandaged, Nezuko added another set. She tied them more loosely; these ones obviously meant to keep any dirt away from her work.
"That should do it." Pride shone in her face. "Tanjirou will be so pleased to hear of your return. I will let him know as soon as Aoi has no further need of me. Until then, however," she raised her hand, finger pointing towards him, "you will stay here and rest." He made no response. Not that Nezuko saw that as a reason to back away any. "You must promise me. Stay here, rest and do not aggravate that wound. Promise," she insisted.
"Very well." That seemed to satisfy her. Her hands came together in a silent clap and she straightened.
Just as soon as she had come to him, she was gone, off to another needful soul. He observed her out of curiosity, noting for the first time that there were some subtle changes in her. If asked, he would be quite unable to put his finger on any of them, but they were, nevertheless, there. Comfortable enough for the time being, he maintained his sitting position, closing his eyes. A moment of rest could only do him a world of good. Nezuko had quite a bit of work ahead of her.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep. Somehow it had happened anyway. Giyuu opened his eyes to a wash of warmth spilling over sheets and sleeping bodies onto the solid floor beneath. Instinctively, he sought to move his hand, but a twinge of pain put paid to that with alacrity. He blinked a few time, sluggish mind fighting to bring to the forefront the most recent memories it had to offer. He managed no more than a glimpse before his attention was drawn away. "You're awake." Giyuu looked to the doorway. Both doors had been thrown open wide, presumably to allow cool, crisp air within.
Tanjirou's sister stood there, arms laden with what looked to be a heavy wooden tray. Her words had been quiet, but she looked to him as she spoke, so he assumed they were meant for him. Giyuu nodded. Body still somewhat heavy, he took a moment to reclaim an earlier sitting position. Glancing about the chamber, he noted that a few others were in a like condition. Some of them held hushed conversations while others read.
A faint floral scent wafted to him. It took a moment to realise that was Nezuko. It might have been the fact that he was still sleep-befuddled, or perhaps just the knowledge that she was Nezuko, but he leaned in slightly towards her. She regarded him with a friendly little smile, holding up a cup she must have filled while he was acquainting himself with his surroundings. "You must have been very tired; and to think I prattled at you on and on." She flushed guiltily.
"I did not mind." There was no point in hiding the truth. To spare her any further inconvenience, he changed the subject. "You are running errands for Aoi now?"
"I did offer to help. I took this ward and Aoi took the other. After you returned we had another group. Everyone is home now, safe and sound. For the most part, But the important thing is we did not lose anyone." Relief touched him briefly. "I was just about to see if anyone is in need of anything." That last part of her speech was spoken slightly louder.
Before anyone might make any requests, however, the general silence was disturbed by an audible row. No sooner than the strident notes came that Tanjirou appeared, followed closely by the bickering Hashibira and Agatsuma. "Not so loud," Tanjirou admonished the two to no avail.
He needn't have bothered in any event because as soon as the blond saw Nezuko, he made straight for her, holding himself in comical fashion as he asked whether he might help her. It was a wonder he hadn't dissolved into a puddle by that time. Giyuu resisted the urge to scoff at the ludicrous display, glancing at the subject of such blatantly expressed consideration.
"You would? That is so kind of you. Here," she held out the cup she had filled, "make certain those two over there drink their medicine." With those words, she retrieved and filled a second cup.
The Agatsuma boy scowled. "This is vile, Nezuko. Surely you would not wish to torture these injured men so. I almost died drinking this, you know. Too bitter by half." He went on in a like matter until Nezuko put an end to it.
"But you did not die and it did you a world of good. However, if you do not wish to help–" She never finished that thought as her admirer had hied himself off to the two in need of medication and fairly poured the brew down their throat at the slightest hesitation on their part. "He really is something else," Nezuko muttered, shaking her head in amused disbelief.
"But he did help," Tanjirou pointed out as Inosuke huffed irritably behind him, muttering something under his breath. "Nezuko said you were injured." That was addressed to him, Giyuu realised. He shrugged, answering that his injury was minor. "So minor that it required sutures?"
The siblings were as close as ever. Chancing a glance Nezuko's way, he saw her colour deepening. "Truly, Tanjirou, you are something else as well." Far from feeling insulted, brother looked to sister with such an expression one would think she had made him the greatest compliment. Something unpleasant roiled in the pit of his stomach, something a lot like envy; too ugly a feeling to contemplate overlong. Pushing it away brutally, Giyuu clenched his teeth against the wave of regret which inevitably followed. "Are you in pain?"
Nezuko's question rang loud in his ears. "I am well," he assured her, hoping his reaction would not cause anything like a stir. He hadn't the wherewithal to withstand questioning upon the matter. Tanjirou's young sister scrutinised him ever so gently before nodding her head in acceptance. In spite of that, her expression retained a drop of worry. She did her best to mask it with a smile. "I should go rescue those two from Zenitsu's tender mercies." As good as her word, she strode towards the trio with a firm step, an accomplishment in and of itself considering the restrictive nature of her garments.
"She should do us all a favour and save us from him," Inosuke said once she was far enough that she wouldn't hear. Giyuu levelled a questioning glance at the youth while Tanjirou chuckled quietly. "He wouldn't be quite so aggravating if she kept him about her."
He wasn't certain what those words meant. He could well enough tell what Zenitsu's aim was; as could anyone with eyes to see, but Nezuko, he thought, was harder to read in that regard. Glancing to the group, he only saw the back of her. She had calmed her would-be suitor and was busily coaxing him away from the resting men who were looking at her with silent worship in their gaze. He supposed he would too under similar circumstances.
"Zenitsu is our friend, Inosuke," Tanjirou reminded his companion whose pig-headed nature was not at all lessened by the disappearance of the boar's head he usually sported.
"That does not make him less of a nuisance." At least his comments were accurate, Giyuu considered, watching the exchange. Inosuke crossed his arms over his chest.
"We are disturbing your rest, I don't doubt," Tanjirou sighed.
"Not at all." They were entertaining after a fashion and it worked as distractions went.
