There was only one thing everyone could agree on during the semi-annual Hashira meeting: the new age of Demon Slayers was failing.

Too many young ones were being cut down during their first few missions, and recruitment numbers were lower than anyone had ever seen. It was certainly because a new age of life was upon them and because it was downright cruel to ask people who didn't even believe in demons to dedicate their entire lives to slaying them… but those explanations did not provide any answers for the question the Master had asked: how will we retain numbers and bring the fight to Kibutsuji Muzan?

When they brought in a soldier by name of Murata to give his report on the incident at Mount Natagumo, the Hashira were even less convinced of the organization's future. It seemed things had been far worse before Izumi, Giyu, and Shinobu had arrived—according to Murata, ten soldiers had perished within those forests, and twice as many were wounded.

"This incident has made it clear that the caliber of Demon Slayers has nose-dived to unbelievable levels," Sanemi grumbled, placing one hand to his forehead in irritation. "The trainers must be blind. You'd think they could at least tell if someone's competent or not…"

Tengen chuckled and shot him a sly look. "Well, that kid today sure seemed competent. He did land that flamboyant blow on you, Shinazugawa. He's got potential."

Sanemi scoffed.

"I agree!" Kyojuro exclaimed. He leaned forward, a smile upon his face. "Considering young Kamado ran into one of the Twelve Kizuki so soon after joining the Corps, he may have the power to draw them! And Izumi was able to inspect him over the summer, too—she may have more information on him!"

Izumi hummed to herself; while her eyes were focused upon her hands clasped within her lap, she was gazing somewhere much farther away. "I remained with Kamado Tanjiro to provide him extra training over the summer. Based on the fact that he was able to survive an altercation with Lower Moon Five alone for more than a few minutes, I'd say he put it to good use. He could do much with additional help…"

"Is this your way of saying you will take him as your Tsuguko?" asked Mitsuri, who seemed no less than delighted by the proposition.

A small smile crossed Izumi's lips as she addressed the potential for Kamado Tanjiro to be her apprentice. She certainly liked him enough to train him personally, though one significant problem would arise if she were to offer him the position—he was not acquainted with her style of breathing. No one was. The only other person who possessed the same abilities as herself was the person she hated most in the world, save for Kibutsuji Muzan.

And there was someone else she had already deigned to approach to be her Tsuguko anyway.

It was softly that she finally said, "I… could ask him if he is willing to entertain the idea. But I had already planned on adopting another student as my apprentice… if he would accept the position."

"Who was it you were thinking of taking under your wing, Izumi?" Shinobu asked brightly. "They must be impressive, for they'd be your first Tsuguko!"

The smile upon Izumi's face grew somewhat fixed, for she knew the answer could spawn yet another argument between herself and her most aggressive colleague. "A young man named Genya."

She could feel Sanemi's startled eyes boring deep into her skull.

"He was one of the most promising candidates, although… his set of skills is unique." Izumi glanced around the others, many of whom seemed intrigued by what she had to say of the new Demon Slayer soldiers. "I promised him aid during my inspections, and I grew fond of him during our short meeting."

"Ah. I may have bad news for you, Kanemoto," said Gyomei. "I may have already offered the young man a position as my own Tsuguko… and it has been accepted."

Far from being upset by such a declaration, Izumi met him with a smile. "Did you, Himejima? Well… he will certainly be taken care of. Perhaps I shall approach Kamado Tanjiro after all."

Warmth emanated from the Master's aura upon hearing her words. Extending his hands, he declared, "I would be glad to hear of it, Izumi, for I believe the best way to bolster our success would be for the strongest of my children to adopt a more active role in the young ones' training. It is always possible a single piece of instruction will save their lives during battle, after all."

With this declaration ringing through the Hashira's heads, their semi-annual meeting was adjourned.

The following days passed, although they were not as simple as Izumi had hoped. As she had both expected and feared, a few of her fellow colleagues did not so easily forget the part she had played in defending a demon. It seemed Obanai and Sanemi wanted nothing to do with her—not that that was anything new on the Wind Hashira's part—and a conversation was had with Kyojuro in their home a couple of days later as well.

It was late in the evening; cups of tea were forgotten upon the table because their hands had been held within one another's instead. They sat closely upon the floor, watching the flames of the hearth dance before their eyes—and then Kyojuro broke the stillness of their silence with the words, "Over the last couple of days, I have attempted to understand why you spared that demon girl's life. Do you truly put so much faith in Tomioka, that you do not need proof for something as significant as this?"

She blinked. His strong brows were furrowed in slight puzzlement, though there was thankfully no anger to his face. "Yes, of course. He is my friend."

"I see," he said. He did not offer more.

Something shifted within her chest: a light sting. "Is that… not a good enough reason in your eyes, Kyojuro?"

Soft crackles from blazing branches were all to be heard for a long moment. No changes came over his face—for perhaps the first time since Izumi had met him, Kyojuro was maddeningly stoic… the way Giyu always was.

"I just worry your goodwill is misplaced. Until I see this Kamado Nezuko fight with my own eyes, I do not know if I will be able to grant her the same trust that you have," he replied at last. A smile reappeared across his lips, though there was something slightly sad accompanying it. "But I do admire your faith, Izumi. I hope that it will prove me wrong."

Over the following week, Izumi dedicated all of her time towards the young soldiers of the Demon Slayer Corps. Early in the morning she would visit the Butterfly Mansion, where she would assist Shinobu in distributing medical attention to those wounded upon Mount Natagumo. Once the sun was directly above her in the sky, she would migrate to the training grounds and do what she could to improve the soldiers' skills.

It had been a job simply to gain their trust—none of the lower ranks were used to a Hashira mingling amongst them. Their auras had spiked with fear when Izumi had approached… but as she met them with soft smiles and spare tips for how to grow stronger, they began to open up and allow her instruction. She slowly began learning their names, immersing herself in their training; she was surprised by how much she enjoyed it.

Eleven days after the semi-annual Hashira meeting, Izumi was summoned to Gyomei's home through a letter that Genya had helped him write. The request was odd, if only because she had only been asked to visit him three times before—so it was with a strange anticipation that she trudged through the trees to where he made his home.

The forests were serene; birdsongs flew through the warming air. The sound of a waterfall crashed somewhere in the near distance. Some piles of snow hung from the boughs of the branches, and the last of the icicles reflected rays of sun cascading through their leaves.

After a long morning of walking, however, Izumi found herself arriving at the property. A familiar face was hard at work within Gyomei's personal training grounds.

"Genya!" she exclaimed, rushing forth to where he was wielding a katana against one of the wooden mannequins. "It's so good to see you."

While it had only been nine months since last she had laid eyes on him, the changes in Genya's stance and body were astounding. She had no idea how long he had been Gyomei's Tsuguko for, but already he had gained an incredible amount of muscle and strength—he had also grown taller, which caused Izumi to have to look up at him slightly. His hair was longer than before and shaved on the sides.

Despite his mildly intimidating appearance, Genya grinned as she approached. "As you can see, Lady Kanemoto, I passed my Final Selection."

She laughed at the words, a sound of simple joy and affection. Yet as she studied his person more thoroughly, something alarmed her: a faint yet present shroud of black around his normally pale-green aura.

What smile was upon her face slowly disappeared. "Genya… are you feeling well? You aren't ill, are you?"

Before Genya could respond to such a question, a familiar deep voice said, "I had a suspicion you would be able to pick up on his ability, Kanemoto. Namu-Amidabutsu."

Out of a simple cabin stepped Gyomei, whose yellow-green haori was held within his arms. The forest air seemed to suit him—he rarely stood so tall as he did when surrounded by nature. He smiled in Izumi's direction and added, "Can you tell what it is Genya can do?"

Izumi narrowed her eyes and scanned his Tsuguko's condition. It was not possible he had been turned into a demon, for he was training in the sunlight. There were no visible injuries upon his person. Other than the strange change to his aura, it did not seem as though anything was wrong…

"I can tell that something has changed him," she responded seriously. "And… it looks as though it's something to do with demons."

Gyomei stepped forward, the glare of the sun revealing the tear-streaks lining his sharp cheekbones. He placed one heavy hand upon Genya's shoulder and said, "It is a way for him to fight. Genya can eat pieces of the demons to grow stronger."

The comfort from the sun's glow was promptly washed away, as was all the color within Izumi's face. She could only stare at the young Shinazugawa, wondering whether she had misheard her colleague, or if perhaps their conversation was only a strange dream.

"Eating… demons?" she repeated, her voice hoarse.

"Don't tell Sanemi," Genya hissed. He glared to the side, where his abandoned blade was resting. "I don't want him to know. Not yet. That's… why I've asked Sensei Himejima to speak to you."

Izumi swallowed hard. Her gaze found the grass at her feet—for better or worse, it seemed the new age of the Demon Slayers was straying from the norm. It took all of her collective strength to avoid sounding overly concerned, but at last she looked back to Gyomei and asked, "Does Shinobu know? If there are any lasting effects on Genya's body, then—"

"She does," said Genya. Something bitter infested his tone. "Lady Kocho doesn't like it. She says it's unnatural, but it doesn't seem to have impacted me on a long-standing basis, so it is allowed."

Gyomei nodded in affirmation.

As Izumi thought on such bizarre revelations, she realized neither Gyomei's nor Shinobu's reactions were particularly surprising. Despite Shinobu's insistence that she longed to see a day where humans and demons could be friends, Izumi knew how much of a lie it was. And Gyomei had always spoken about how integral it was for each person to understand what made them strong: to seize that power and use it to the best of their ability, no matter the cost.

"I see," she said at last. The shock had worn off, and upon seeing the healthy condition Genya was in both physically and mentally… Izumi would not oppose it. "If the Master accepts this method of fighting, then I will as well."

An unintentional sigh of relief left Genya's lips, but it was Gyomei who spoke next, saying, "I am grateful. But there was another reason we called you here, Kanemoto. You expressed interest in adopting Genya as your Tsuguko during our meeting. He has placed express trust in you by asking me to summon you here. And his abilities are unique, beyond even my understanding. Thus… I must ask you to assist me in training him, the first Demon Slayer without breaths."

The request made a smile return to Izumi's face. It was with the utmost sincerity that she replied, "I would be more than happy to assist, Himejima." Then she turned to Genya, a spark alight in her eyes. "Show me what you can do now, and I will assist you in gaining even further strength."

So for the following hours they trained. Genya had indeed improved beyond recognition; such realizations were startling considering he had already been such an inspiring recruit. Still, there were things Izumi was able to spot and correct: minor flaws in his offensive stances, adjustments in his breathing even if it couldn't be Total Concentration, how to best capitalize on the first few moments of an attack. She knew without looking back that Gyomei was watching.

Only once it was nearing dark did they stop, and only because the smell of a delicious stew was wafting from the direction of Gyomei's cabin, and it made Genya's stomach rumble.

Knowing it was well past time for her to return to her own home, Izumi placed a hand upon Genya's shoulder and said, "Whenever you wish to train again, feel free to send me a note. I'd be happy to help you however I can."

He nodded and clapped a hand upon her shoulder… for a simple moment in time, when Izumi looked upon him, she saw the ghost of Akihiro standing ahead of her even though their personalities were not all that similar.

Then, with gratitude plain in his face, Genya turned towards the cabin.

Izumi was about to go in the opposite direction—

"Kanemoto."

Gyomei had appeared upon the doorsteps of his home and was waving her forth. As she obeyed his summons, he quietly said, "You have my gratitude for your aid and efforts. If you can, however… please keep Genya's affiliation with his older brother a secret. Neither of them are ready to face the other, it would seem."

The request was not one she intended on breaking. Izumi bowed her head before her senior Hashira with the reply, "I will do this, Himejima. Thank you."

One of his hands gently rested upon her own. "We have known one another for five years, and shall likely be working in closer proximity. You are free to address me by my given name, should you prefer it. I have noticed you do so with Rengoku, Kocho, Kanroji, and Tomioka."

Joy welled within Izumi's chest. Fondly, she said, "Likewise, please. I would be glad to be Izumi to you… Gyomei."

He smiled once again—and then she was off, back through the thickets.

By the time she returned in the vicinity of the Golden Mansion, it was well into the evening. The moon was nearing its fullest stages, hovering within the sky like a golden bulb. A few lights flickered upon the street from the direction of the Butterfly Mansion; a smile lit Izumi's face. Due to its lively nature, Shinobu's home was never fully at rest.

She exhaled softly and progressed up the street, ready to make some sushi and spend the rest of her evening with Kyojuro—but as she passed by some darkened trees, a hand lunged forward and forcefully seized her arm.

Izumi yelped as she was spun around. Accosting her was Sanemi, whose eyes were narrowed and whose expression was not as spiteful as usual.

"I know where you went," he said through gritted teeth. "Can he defend himself?"

There was no attempt to hide his concern, no sharpness invading his tone. Sanemi was not even looking directly at her, choosing instead to glare into the darkness down the road.

Realizing how desperately he needed the certainty, Izumi replied, "Yes. He is strong."

"You better not fucking lie to me, Kanemoto. If he needs to be kicked out of the Demon Slayer Corps, then—"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Shinazugawa. Especially not about something like this." Izumi grabbed the hand that was still grasping her arm as tight as a vice and squeezed it. The gesture finally prompted him to meet her eyes; anger and uncertainty lingered deep within his own. "Genya has strength and spirit. Both Gyomei and myself will be looking after him as well."

Sanemi frowned. There was little to be seen of his expression as he turned away, taking refuge from the setting shadows, but the way his aura spiked and danced said he was not yet convinced.

"As the Tsuguko of the strongest soldier in the Demon Slayer Corps, Genya is in a safer position than most recruits. And when I met him and realized who he was to you, I made myself a promise. It is only right that I make it to you as well." She took a deep, slow breath, knowing that her words would bring him either great comfort or great anger. "I will never let what happened to my little siblings happen to anyone else's. Even if it costs my life, I will not let it happen again."

All was quiet save for the crickets in the nearby brushes, the sounds of soldiers training or laughing closer to headquarters. Sanemi did not immediately address what Izumi had said, perhaps processing it, perhaps attempting to figure out how he was supposed to respond.

Realizing that he may not wish to respond at all, Izumi released his hand, said, "Good night," and began to turn away—

"Hey."

She stopped and faced him again. Only a trace of moonlight illuminated his sharp features, but it was enough.

A softer gaze was waiting for her, the likes of which Sanemi had only revealed once or twice throughout the five years that she had been a Hashira. He was not a man all that familiar with revealing affection—but as he punched her shoulder, the smile on his face made it clear that was his attempt.

"Thanks," was all he said.

Izumi understood what he meant. She smiled back to him and chose to press her luck by asking, "So… does this mean I'm allowed to call on you for training sessions again?"

He inhaled long and slow. A traditional smirk reappeared. "Hard to say, Kanemoto. You did laugh when that bastard kid head-butted me."

Another laugh was coaxed from her mouth with these words. "You can't just stand there and tell me that I was supposed to keep a straight face. I've never seen anyone even dare to charge at you like that, much less get away with it."

Sanemi scoffed, which just made her giggle again. Then he rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, princess. It's a good thing you're gorgeous, you know."

Heat rose into her face. He had often made insinuations alluding to such, but Izumi could not remember a time where Sanemi had actually said it out loud. Though she was unsure of what exactly to say, she elected to smile back at him and reply, "I'll see you tomorrow, Shinazugawa."

He nodded curtly and turned aside, in the direction of his dojo. Izumi continued up the street to where her own home was waiting—though as she passed the Butterfly Mansion and noted how many windows still had lights on behind them, she thought to herself that it might be nice to visit Tanjiro again soon and see how he, Zenitsu, and Inosuke were doing…

Two voices sounded behind the door when she stepped up to the entryway of the Golden Mansion. One of them she immediately recognized as Kyojuro; the other voice was just as boisterous, which meant it could only be Tengen.

She smiled to herself as she thought: hopefully they hadn't left a mess in the kitchen again.

Just as she was about to open the door, however, Izumi heard her own name.

"I don't know if Izumi will take it well. I don't know if it's what she wants," said Kyojuro's voice. While he had hushed his usual volume, he was still easily heard because of how loudly he normally spoke. "This is something I've been thinking about for a long time, Tengen. You know that!"

Although Izumi was not normally one to eavesdrop, the distressed passion with which Kyojuro was speaking sent shivers down her spine. She took a step back from the door and held one hand to her throat.

"Come on, Kyojuro—you've got nothing to worry about. You just have to say it. Flamboyantly!"

A sigh. Then, "Easier said than done, I'm afraid!"

"There's your problem! You're afraid. Forget those drab feelings! Take one good look at her, Kyojuro: she loves you. No matter what, she'll always be around for you."

Fear settled underneath her skin; it sounded like Kyojuro was unhappy…

Unable to hear any more, she reached out a shaking hand, placed it upon the doorknob, and carefully swung it open.

The moment she stepped inside, a cacophony of sound met her ears. Tengen had lunged across the table and snatched something from atop it. The object remained enclosed within his fist; meanwhile, Kyojuro whirled around with such speed he nearly upended the chair he'd been leaning over the back of.

"Izumi! You're—I didn't expect you'd be back so soon!" exclaimed Kyojuro. There was little to no color upon his face, and Tengen wasn't looking much less taken aback.

She didn't reply immediately. Her eyes trailed across the house. Nothing seemed strange or out of place; there were no hints as to what was going on, so far as she could tell. There was only the light of the fire and a number of cleaned bowls from when they had likely made dinner earlier.

"Is everything all right?" she said, her lips twisting sideways. "You seem—"

"Fine! Everything's fine," Kyojuro interrupted. He stepped forward before stopping ahead of her and smiling brightly yet again. "What did Himejima wish to see you for?"

Even though it was clear that Kyojuro was attempting to change the topic of conversation, she decided to answer. "He wished me to help train his new Tsuguko, since the young man's abilities are a little unorthodox. I'm happy to do it, of course."

"I see! Well, I'm glad!"

Everything grew uncomfortably quiet for a moment that seemed to stretch into ages. For the first time in a long while, Izumi was cold.

Such disquiet was broken first by Tengen, who dramatically cleared his throat and said, "Well, I ought to get going. I have to respond to Suma's letter tonight, or else she'll be worried again! I'll chat with you two sometime soon!"

He began sliding around the edge of the room. As he passed Kyojuro, he slipped the object within his enclosed fist back into his friend's palm. Tengen shot him a significant look, one that Izumi could not even begin to hope to understand… and then he was gone.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Izumi trailed towards the kitchen. She was only mildly relieved to see that they had left her a fair portion of what they had made: a miso and sweet potato soup.

Izumi maintained her silence as she served herself a bowl. The fact that Kyojuro did not immediately begin talking told her that whatever he and Tengen had been discussing, it had been deeply important.

Uncertainty swept over her shoulders like a heavy cloak; she and Kyojuro had never kept secrets. Because there was no better word for what he and Tengen were doing: keeping a secret. It had been written plainly in the lines of their faces when she stepped inside.

It had been a peaceful couple of weeks. Izumi had adored finally being able to openly show her best friend her deeper affections. They had spent no small amount of time in one another's arms, their lips together, and yet… if the nagging whispers in her ears were any sort of correct, then it was possible that Kyojuro had not anticipated spending their time together in the way they had been. Or even worse—that he had perhaps changed his mind.

– Hands on her waist, strong, supportive—Kyojuro had always been warm, but so close, he is fire himself; a flush accentuates the heat to his face.

Her fingers run through his hair as they sit in the crevice of the gardens, the most secret array of willows and hedges. There is nowhere Izumi would rather be… but then she sees it. Longing mixed with uncertainty; a flash of something else she cannot place running through his eyes.

"Kyojuro… is everything all right?" For the first time that night, she frowns.

His doubt, his fear—suddenly gone. As though it had never existed. But Izumi knows what she sees. Her vision is too pristine.

"Yes, of course!" he responds. He beams. "Nothing could be better."

He kisses her once more. His answer comforts her… for now. –

Izumi's eyelids grew heavy as her gaze fell to the spring rose bushes just outside the window. She had seen the signs. She had just chosen to ignore them…

"How much did you hear?"

She blinked and turned away from the window, suddenly realizing that those words had been spoken aloud, and that they'd been spoken by Kyojuro.

Izumi paused. Her eyes fell upon his hand, the one that Tengen had placed the unknown object in. It was still clenched into a fist.

And then she said, "Are you happy?"

The question left her lips before she could truly think about it. But when she glanced back to him and noted the way he stared at her, his mouth slightly open in surprise, she knew that it had had to be asked.

"Of course I am!" he replied near immediately. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her before squeezing her tightly, as though she might dissolve if he didn't. "I've never been happier! Why do you…"

"It sounded like something has been on your mind. Something important—and I'm worried it's because… of me." Izumi's throat grew tight with such a confession, her head lowering a few degrees towards the floor. She set her bowl of soup upon the table, having lost the appetite for it. "Kyojuro… did you only tell me that you loved me because I said it so tactlessly first? It's all right if… I do not want you to feel trapped with me."

It was quiet for a moment, during which time Izumi's eyes started burning. But then Kyojuro began to chuckle, a sound that she could feel against her back—and then he began to laugh.

A pang of hurt filled her chest; before she could ask what had him in such hysterics, Kyojuro sighed and said, "I should've known better than to try and keep this from you. You've always read me like an open book!"

He opened his fingers, revealing what lay clasped within his hand: a silver bracelet of simple swirls, one that would fit easily around her wrist and not slide in the way of her swordsmanship.

"Since our families exchanging gifts seems to be rather impossible, I wanted to give this directly to you instead!" he exclaimed, as simple as could be. He reached out and pressed the bracelet within her own hand before raising it to his mouth and kissing her fingers.

Izumi fixed her gaze upon him and cocked her head. "Exchanging gifts?"

He nodded, an amused light filling his eyes. "It may not be traditional, but I wished to do something when asking you to marry me."

The world seemed to pause as Izumi processed what he said; even the flickering flames grew still. Her heart crashed against her ribs as she swallowed hard and murmured, "You want to marry me?"

"Oh—was that not what you wished for?" asked Kyojuro, whose eyes grew wide. He released her from his grasp and staggered backwards; one hand began uncomfortably scratching the back of his neck. "Perhaps I should not have… perhaps I should've actually asked you what you wanted first!"

Relief swelled across her with the force of a tidal wave—she had been so ridiculously afraid for nothing.

"Yes—I mean, no! No, that's—yes," she gasped. Izumi dove forward, closing the distance between herself and Kyojuro once again. Then it was her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, nearly throwing both of them into the table with the force of the gesture. "That's exactly what I want! I just didn't expect to hear it so readily from you. Kyojuro—"

Instead of attempting to figure out what it was she wished to say, she simply exhaled and impatiently met her lips to his own.

Kyojuro made a muffled noise of surprise at such an ambush; he pulled away from Izumi with a grin, though he raised an eyebrow as he asked, "You are certain? You do not have to say that just because I did!"

Izumi just giggled. She gently placed the silver bracelet upon her left wrist; then she allowed her hands to rest upon the side of his face, her fingers to be lost in the golden strands of his hair. "I promise you: that is exactly what I want. I want to marry you—to be with you every morning and every night. Remember?"

"Yes," he replied. Relief was clear within his own expression as well; Izumi could almost see the weight she had lifted from his shoulders through her answer. "I will never forget it."

Countless emotions welled within her chest, rising into her throat: love, relief, unhindered joy. When next Izumi met his eyes, her habit of speaking her questions and her thoughts betrayed her once again.

"Stay with me tonight," she murmured, her fingertips trailing his skin.

Kyojuro blinked. It was obvious what he was thinking—never before had they shared a bed, save in the most innocent sense of the word. On the few occasions that they had fallen ill and Shinobu was not around to help them, they had rested alongside one another to ensure their condition wouldn't worsen.

It was with a dubious look that he replied, "I would not want you to make this decision lightly, Izumi. It is not one that can be taken back."

A delicate smile crept over her lips, one just barely hinting at mischievousness. "I know that. But it doesn't scare me. If I were to give all of myself to one person in the world… my only answer is you. Because I love—"

She was not allowed to finish her sentence. Kyojuro swept her off of her feet and into his arms, pressing her tightly against his body. Before she could even begin to regain her breath, Izumi was carried out of the kitchen, into the room where she slept each night—and all she could do was laugh and place her lips everywhere she could upon him: his neck, his temple, his cheek, his lips.

All throughout the following hours, during which time the moon was their only light, as their bodies pressed against one another in slow, steady rhythm and they whispered loving affirmations in the other's ear, the only thing Izumi could think was how lucky she was. How deeply she loved him, her best friend: how she wished to be with him for as long as possible, perhaps even unto the next life if their time as Demon Slayers was destined to be cut short.

It was late into the night, well past the time that Izumi was normally at rest, when she next found herself lying still. Her fingers were lazily trailing Kyojuro's cheekbones, his chest—a haze had settled over her entire consciousness. At any moment, she was liable to fall asleep.

Kyojuro seemed to note it, too. His golden eyes were soft, like the embers of a fading sun, as he reached forward and held her against him. A thin sheen of sweat remained upon his body, and yet he was still so warm.

"Go ahead and sleep, Izumi," he murmured, fingers gently moving through her long hair. "I'll be here when you wake up."

She sighed; smiled. Closed her eyes.

For the first time in a very long while, everything seemed right in the world.