Demonic blood drenched off of Mitsuri's body onto his arms and knees. Her braids shivered over his elbow, slick and red. Cradling her with one arm, Giyuu carefully rolled up her shirt. Her abdomen was pierced from opposite sides. Giyuu lightly pressed his palm to the left side, and hot blood rhythmically seeped in between his fingers. The renal aorta was injured. The young man glanced over to the right: the blood flow was less, but he couldn't tell whether internal bleeding was occurring.
Giyuu delicately reached for the speaker in her ear. Several pink locks shivered, pressing to his bloodied hand. His thumb glided along the plastic surface until he felt the barely-visible indentation. He pressed the button. Even though the headquarters were notified immediately, Mitsuri at most had ten minutes.
Giyuu lifted his head up. He only had three.
The demon was standing a couple of meters away from them. Its wings have already folded into its back, and the eyes, reverted back to normal, were silently watching them. At this point, all Giyuu wanted was to get Mitsuri out of here, but the demon was blocking the entrance. It seemed he had no choice.
Not moving his eyes from him, Giyuu slowly lowered Mitsuri on the platform and stood up. Hands in pockets, the demon remained still. His shoulders slightly tensed.
Giyuu stopped a short distance across the demon. Blood dripped from his left hand, wrapping around the sword's hilt.
They launched at the same time and met each other half-way. Right before he swung his sword, Giyuu's eyes darted at the watch on his wrist. 6:11.
The demon ducked and vehemently striked out with his arm. Giyuu jumped, avoiding the hit in his legs.
At close range, the demon's attacks were much quicker and precise. As he blocked a strike, claws curling around the blade, Giyuu instantly pulled out the sword and swung it towards the demon's abdomen. It reacted immediately, twisting away. The hashira barely avoided its leg, talons aiming for the eyes. Catching his brief falter, the demon reached and forcefully yanked the hashira by the metal arm.
"Water Breathing, First Form," Giyuu immediately said, flipping over in the air. "Water Surface Splash."
The demons snarled, fumbling from the powerful slash and losing the opportunity to pin down the hashira. Giyuu rolled on the ground, before coming to a stop with a controlled skid.
One knee on the platform, Giyuu heavily breathed through his nose, staring at the demon a few meters away from him. Slightly hunched over, the demon was also watching him. The wound across his chest was quickly knitting together.
The small cuts stinging all over his body, Giyuu glimpsed at the watch. 6:13. His metallic fingers twitched, an electric signal pulsing across the wires. The demon seemingly preferred not to use his wings, relying on overwhelming strength in combat. In that case…
Before the thought formulated, the demon lunged towards him. Launching from the ground, Giyuu raced forward, but at the last moment, dug his foot and sprung into the air. The demon roughly skidded; with a deafening crack, the wings protruded from his back, this time much quicker than the first. With lightning speed, the demon pounced into the air, claws outstretched towards Giyuu. The air hissed through Giyuu's lips. His fingers re-gripped the hilt, holding it vertically down.
"Water Breathing, Altered Tenth Form." The water wisped off the blade, rapidly gaining form. "Constant Flux, Vertical."
The eyes, fully black once more, slightly enlarged, and the lips lifted into a hateful grimace.
The water dragon fell down with the hashira on top of the demon. The talons wrapped around the blade, but Giyuu pressed the sword all the way, hilt tucking against the demon's chest. His ears were bleeding from the rushing of the air, water droplets sprinkling around his face. The dragon propelled them downwards, and they collided into the sewage waters.
Thick, murky waste flooded Giyuu's senses, yet he twisted the blade further in. The water dragon, not losing speed, thrusted them further down.
The sword slid into the concrete, and the demon's back harshly collided into the floor of the river. Chest ripping through the hilt, the demon roughly clawed forward. Searing pain ripped underneath Giyuu's right shoulder. Clenching his teeth, he harshly stamped the demon's face with his foot and, gripping the creature's arm, yanked it out of his chest.
Immediately, the current tossed him over his head, but away from the demon. Skidding over the river floor, his fingers caught on to something slippery and tubular, but the hashira, unable to think, tossed it aside.
Choking over his breath, Giyuu slightly turned, trying to regain his balance, and carefully extended his metal arm. The metal fingers cracked, dislocated from the joints, against the wall of the platform. Vision blackening, Giyuu pulled up to it, trying to swim his way upwards. The current ripped at his sides, containers and cans occasionally blowing against him.
There was a short splash, and his fingers broke out of the water, latching to the platform's edge. With immeasurable strength, Giyuu flexed his arms. Painfully, grease streaming off his face, he lifted himself up. When his head broke out of the water, he couldn't hold back the ragged and sloppy breath, immediately followed by starved and uneven inhales. Hips against the edge, Giyuu clumsily rolled over, one leg still hanging over the platform. For a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, but immediately forced himself to lift up.
His knees almost broke when he stood up, muscles trembling all across the legs and spine. Giyuu bit his tongue, pressing his fingers into the wound until it hurt. He didn't have the time, the demon could wheedle out at any moment.
Vision collapsing from the speed, Giyuu ran up to Mitsuri and roughly lifted her onto his back. Her arms dangled around his neck, head nestled next to his. He had no idea what time it was.
Running up the staircase, he couldn't shake off the feeling that the demon was right behind them. Mitsuri was slipping off of him, and he desperately clasped his fingers, holding her upwards. His breath came out in ripped pieces, the techniques thrown to hell. Water dripping off his forehead and into his eyes, Giyuu almost blindly took the steps.
"Giyuu? Giyuu? Are you listening to me?"
The voice cut through the ringing in his ears. Giyuu turned around the corner, running across the tunnel. His brain was empty, and he couldn't see a thing in the darkness. He felt that if he tried to think, even the legs would lose that saving muscle memory.
"Yes?"
"Your location?"
Emergencies were never to ask how gravely they were injured or what the hell was going on. It was very simple: your location, our directions.
"Trace it yourself."
Giyuu swiveled around the corner, nearly slipping and falling over. His fingers grasped into Mitsuri, trying to find some stability. The ringing in the ears increased, but the speakers almost immediately cut through.
"You're in Sector F-5. Continue straight forward, I'll tell you when to stop."
Giyuu was running all this time. Kanzaburo's voice was unreal, but he nonetheless foolishly grasped on to it as if it could make a difference. Tripping over the pipes, Giyuu ran out on an open platform and stopped, squinting from the bright light.
For a moment, he forgot his destination and craned his head up.
There was an open clearing above the platform, walls tunneling upwards. The sky was glimmering out of the circular opening, the light diffusing into the sewers.
Then, someone peeked over the opening. That someone disappeared almost immediately, only to reappear with a crane-looking structure. With a short hiss, a metal rope zoomed down. Its anchor loudly clang against the platform, echo bouncing off the walls.
Giyuu's breath caught in his throat, limbs going numb. The speakers rattled in his ear.
"Well, you stopped before me telling you. See that opening? It's the escape route at this level. String yourself up, and the med team will pick you from there."
Throat dry, Giyuu slipped Mitsuri off his back. Instead, he leaned her over his chest, wrapping his arm around her waist. He carefully stepped on the anchor and, even with the dislocated fingers, grasped the rope with unspeakable strength.
"Faster, Kanzaburo," he rasped. More than ever, he felt that the demon was about to get out from the sword.
"Yes, yes."
That someone, hearing the command through their own speakers, waved their hand. The crane rumbled, and the rope began rising. Squeezing Mitsuri's waist, simultaneously trying to hold her and lessen the blood flow, Giyuu leaned his forehead against the cool rope.
Everything inside him was shaking, on the verge of losing consciousness, but he forced himself to remain awake.
The light grazed over his face, and he, squinting, lifted his head. He could already tell apart the Kakushi masks.
The crane softly clinked, stopping, and several hands instantly reached over to them. Giyuu carefully passed Mitsuri to the Kakushi workers, before stepping up himself.
He immediately dropped on his knees, unable to hold out any longer.
"Tomioka-san?" A Kakushi girl anxiously took him by the arm, helping him up. Another Kakushi - it looked like a boy - rushed to his side, taking him by the other arm. They led him somewhere: with unfocused vision, Giyuu was able to tell apart the flashing siren lights and the white gleaming surfaces of the ambulances. Slanting his eyes, he saw Mitsuri, already lying inside one of the cars, medical workers scurrying around her.
"Over here, Tomioka-san..." Giyuu felt himself being lowered into a stretcher. The sky ricocheted in front of his eyes, and he coughed, the hole under his shoulder painfully jerking. Slightly turning his head, he saw the Kakushi workers hurriedly running around, someone rolling the crane away. His eyes, watering, followed the crane, before traveling back at the opening. Convulsive relief and strain lumped inside his chest, and Giyuu looked away.
With fading vision, his gaze traveled upwards, at the old billboards and broken rooftops. On the lowest rooftop, a motionless figure watched over the scurrying Kakushi workers and the ambulances. A medical coat flapped around her shoulders, held back by the hands in pockets.
Mind shutting off, Giyuu rubbed his pinkie against the neighboring finger, sensing the cold metal of the ring. It was splattered with blood. However, before he could think of anything else, his brain finally let go, and Giyuu collapsed into darkness.
The beeping of the medical instruments slowly stirred him awake. His eyelids reluctantly lifted upwards, the pupils poorly processing the white, square-tiled ceiling.
Slanting his eyes to the side, Giyuu noticed that his prosthetic was removed. A tube was attached to his other hand, blood steadily flowing from the small pack hanging on the stand.
"You're awake."
Turning his head, Giyuu saw a hologram patiently sitting on the stool next to the screen. Right leg crossed over the left, the old man composedly examined him. The crow mask, wires intertwining with the pipes and gadgets, slightly bowed down. Giyuu shifted in the bed, trying to get a better look at the communicator.
"What's the time?" He hoarsely asked.
"Almost nine thirty. You've been out for three hours."
"And Kanroji-san?"
"She'll pull through."
Giyuu leaned back on the flat pillow and, sighing, closed his eyes. His right shoulder felt heavy, as if someone stacked a pile of stones over it. He heard some shuffling, before a click of tongue in irritation — Kanzaburo, forgetting that he's in holographic form, must've tried to move the stool closer.
Opening his eyes, Giyuu tiredly watched how the old man sat on the edge of the bed. He was shimmering, just like any hologram, and Giyuu could see the faint outlines of the medical counter on the opposite wall through the old man's head; however, that didn't change the sympathetic expression on his face.
"How are you feeling?" Kanzaburo's eyes carefully scanned the hashira. "You were pale and sweating nearly all this time."
"I'll manage."
Giyuu dug his chin into the chest, trying to get a look at the wound in the shoulder. All he could tell were the tight layers of bandages.
Kanzaburo leaned forward and lightly tapped below the right shoulder. His finger wildly flickered.
"You were hit over here. Kochou said it wasn't critical."
"You mean, not-dead." Giyuu closed his eyes again, a tight knot in his stomach. She was here.
He heard Kanzaburo quietly laughing.
"I mean, say thank you she didn't put you in the morgue. You never know with women, particularly her."
"Mmmm." The breathing came out with a slight whistle; some parts of the lungs were ruptured. I really have been knocked out hard, Giyuu wearily thought.
"Did your system capture the sewage system?"
"You bet." Kanzaburo sighed. "It was quite an exhibition. So far, we've isolated the demons; Kochou'll examine them later. The drones are currently scanning the place."
"What about that demon?" Giyuu asked without opening his eyes. The memory was hazy, and he tried not to dwell on it. Kanzaburo wordlessly rubbed his hands together.
"Well," he intertwined his fingers. "He wasn't in our records."
"Please," Giyuu quietly interrupted, opening his eyes. "Every demon is in our records."
The hologram grimaced. He obviously didn't like the hashira's tone.
"Well this one isn't, even in the ones six centuries away."
Giyuu's eyes slid towards the hologram.
"Did you not update them?"
"Quit attacking my records!" Kanzaburo flared up. His eyes flashed in warning. "Updated, last week."
"Sorry," Giyuu replied, not particularly regretting his words. Kanzaburo twisted his lips, displeased.
"Anyway," he forcefully said. "That leaves two options: either the demon has been existing for a very short time, or he's been erased from the records."
"The last one is impossible," Giyuu said, staring upwards.
"Agreed."
They fell into a strained silence. Kanzaburo was obviously holding a grudge against the hashira. Sensing the offense from the hologram, Giyuu on his part examined the ceiling. Despite the grogginess, he acutely felt the nervousness quietly scratching inside of him, and he couldn't shake it off.
This was far from the first time when he would see his wife after they separated. Their interactions remained professional, but he still felt the remnants of anger and regret firmly sitting inside his head.
Nevertheless, there was also a burning longing to be with her. To touch her again.
His eyes lowered down on Kanzaburo. The hologram was absently nudging the floor with the tip of his shoe. Noticing his gaze, Kanzaburo glanced up, and Giyuu saw the corners of the lips rise from under the mask.
"Fine, forget it. The records are my job, after all."
Giyuu shook his head, but he felt lighter. Pressing his left hand into the mattress, he awkwardly sat up. Kanzaburo empathetically watched him.
"Honestly, I have no idea how you scrambled up. The demon was out-of-type and, judging by Mitsuri, insanely strong."
"He didn't want to kill me." That understanding was just an afterthought, the sensation during the fight filtered through an objective lens. Giyuu clumsily pulled the blanket further up his waist.
"I feel like sometimes he was thinking about something else."
Before Kanzaburo could respond, there was a sound of approaching footsteps. Giyuu stilled.
The door opened, and the heels quietly clicked along the linoleum. Shinobu stepped from the screen, hands in pockets and a calm smile on her face.
"Good morning, Kanzaburo-san."
"Good morning, Shinobu," Kanzaburo politely replied. Shinobu's eyes traveled to Giyuu's face, and she nodded towards him.
"How are you feeling?"
He slightly moved his left shoulder. "I'll pull through."
"Mmm, you better." She walked up to him, fixing the tube in his vein. Giyuu glanced down, watching how she retapes the needle. Her perfume, mixed with the synthetic smell of antiseptics, wafted around him. "You have to look great when Obanai comes."
Giyuu winced and looked away. A faint, understanding grin appeared and disappeared on Shinobu's lips, but she stepped aside and looked at Kazaburo.
"I'll get the medicine in a little while. Both him and Mitsuri-chan need to rest for several days. I'll send the authorization to the respective headquarters."
Kanzaburo nodded. "Thanks a bunch."
The tape tugging at his skin, Giyuu wordlessly watched her. He felt uneasy, but with relatively low effort hid those emotions under his usual expression. Shinobu gave him a short glimpse.
"Seriously, Tomioka-san, who advised you to take on an out-of-type demon?"
He almost started from surprise, but quickly caught himself. Fallen out of habit to her style of conversing, he responded automatically, without even attempting a joke.
"The situation got out of control."
"Oh, I can tell." Her eyes demonstratively lingered on his shoulder. "Well, it's on you anyway." She winked. "By the way, it seems that you have another mission."
While Giyuu was at least somewhat used to her teasing, the news of a mission unsettled him. Kanzaburo quickly waved his hands, noticing the crease running along the hashira's forehead.
"It's just Chuntaro, I'll tell him you're unavailable. We have plenty of demon slayers to spare. Don't worry about it."
Giyuu reclined on the pillow. In the back of his mind, he was relieved and, at the moment, he would've preferred to doze off. However, he turned to Kanzaburo.
"When the drones went down, did they find my sword?"
"Yes, they picked it up downstream. It's at the headquarters."
"How careless of you, Tomioka-san. A sword is a hashira's best friend, didn't you know that?" Shinobu evenly pointed out, back to them and deliberately loudly stacking papers against the counter. Giyuu let the comment slide over his ears. He slightly moved his right shoulder, the sleeve of the gown loosely flapping over the stump.
"I'll speak later with the mechanics about the arm. I wanted to get it renewed anyway."
Speaking to Kanzaburo, he missed how Shinobu briefly glimpsed over her shoulder. Wordlessly, she turned back around to the papers, the light bouncing off her butterfly clip.
"Smart decision, Tomioka-san." Folding the folder in front of her, she swiftly whirled around. Her head was slightly tilted, a beaming smile on her lips.
"I'll check up later. See you around, Kanzaburo-san!"
"See you, Shinobu," Kanzaburo quickly called. Shinobu gracefully left, quietly closing the door behind her. Giyuu gazed at his lap, the white sheets lying stiffly under his arm.
The crow silently eyed him, before sighing and rubbing the back of his head.
"She's right, you should rest. You overpushed yourself this time."
Giyuu hummed, eyes traveling upwards at the ceiling. How many times did he wind up injured? He slightly grimaced, the bad memories coming in. Apparently, too many times than he would've liked.
Sighing, he closed his eyes. Presently, the injuries gave him a chance to see Shinobu, but he wasn't even sure if he liked that either. If he wasn't wary enough - if he allowed himself to let go - she could still drive him crazy.
Besides, he would start thinking, over and over. About what he should do.
The hologram flickered and disappeared. Half-conscious, Giyuu listened to how the devices droned next to him. Knowing that he will fall asleep any minute now, Giyuu allowed the familiar perception that pulsed whenever she was around to float upwards to his mind: the arousing, tickling coolness, grazing at his senses.
Legs crossed over one another, Shinobu silently watched how Mitsuri evenly breathed in her sleep. The green heartbeat line steadily bounced on the monitor with a quiet beep. Shinobu had dismissed the robot watching her, and they were left alone.
A breeze ruffled the curtains of the open window, the sound of traffic dimly humming in the distance. The papers inside her folder, lying abandoned on the counter, slightly shivered. Shinobu has been sitting in the same position for fifteen minutes now, and her legs and arms were slowly beginning to ache, but it was as if she didn't notice it.
It gnawed inside of her. Every single time she saw him, she felt both guilty and immensely defiant.
Shinobu absently lowered her gaze on her hands and gently nudged her left ring-finger. It easily tweaked under her motion. Of course, she couldn't not notice that the jerk was still wearing his ring, even after half a year. It was always the first thing that would catch her attention, and she never knew what it meant: even if he wanted her back, she knew for certain that he wouldn't back down from his position.
The wisteria taste poignantly shivered in her mouth. Unfortunately, neither would she.
Mitsuri stirred. Propping herself off of the chair's armrests, Shinobu noiselessly stood up and walked over to the bedside. The young woman, face somewhat buried into the pillow, dully blinked and slowly turned towards the doctor. Shinobu, pushing her thoughts away, broadly smiled.
"Rise and shine, Mitsuri-chan."
Mitsuri stared at her with an uncomprehending look, then groaned and tightly pressed her hand to her eyes. Simultaneously, she mumbled something incomprehensible. Shinobu blinked and leaned forward.
"Sorry, what?"
Up close, she heard Mitsuri's hoarse and incredibly quiet, embarrassed voice.
"Does this mean... I get vacation?"
Shinobu started in surprise, but only during the first second.
"Sure!" She laughed, straightening out. "You can have several days off here."
Mitsuri slightly lifted her hand off her eyes and timidly grinned. "You've no clue how long I've been waiting for it."
Sighing, she pressed her elbows into the mattress, intent on sitting up. Shinobu immediately stretched her arm in warning, worry for once appearing on her features. "I wouldn't advise that! Your abdomen was pierced."
Two green eyes carefully rose up on her, the elbows ready to dig in. There was a brief silence.
"For real?"
"Yes, Mitsuri, for real," Shinobu sighed, "The surgery took three hours."
Mitsuri critically looked at her, then glanced over her shoulder. The alarm clock was quietly ticking on the night table next to her, promptly showing her a quarter before ten.
"All three hours?" Mitsuri repeated, forehead creased in concentration and thinking something to herself.
"Yes, three," Shinobu confirmed, scanning over the monitors with her eyes. They were stable.
"And you never left my side?"
"I mean..." Looking back at her friend, Shinobu gave a small smile. "That wouldn't end well for you, would it?"
"You idiot," Mitsuri sighed in defeat and nestled in the bed, pulling the covers right up to her nose. Shinobu frowned, already knowing where this was heading.
"Mitsuri."
"Yes, I know that I don't know and that we're not discussing this," Mitsuri obediently responded, closing her eyes. However, she wasn't able to hold back and peeked one eye open. "But still."
Shinobu shook her head. The fluorescent light brightly lit her face, illuminating traces of uneasiness and tiredness that were usually well-hid. Mitsuri quieted down, lowering the blanket away from her chin and seriously watching her friend. Just like Shinobu was lying that she was doing great - who does great with shifts stacked up like boxes? - Mitsuri subconsciously felt that she was lying about herself and Giyuu. Apparently, they separated peacefully, and when Mitsuri tortured Obanai about it, he said the same thing, but Mitsuri didn't buy it.
All this time in the sewages, she tried to find an opportunity to ask Giyuu straight in the face, but something about his unwavering composure and the refusal to bring up Shinobu ever in conversation shied her away. On the other hand, what was she hoping for: she couldn't even ask Shinobu directly, it felt so personal.
Mitsuri turned away, feeling how her anxiousness creeped onto her face.
"Whatever." She formed a semi-believable pout. "Your meal, your deal. Instead tell me when I'm getting out of here."
Shinobu understood that her friend was frustrated, but she couldn't do anything about it.
"Alright," she easily agreed, scooting closer. At first, Mitsuri absently twirled the end of her braid, but then fully turned around on her back and, folding her hands on her stomach, listened to her friend.
The entire Kaunan District was a health center: hospitals, rehabilitation centers, retails for medical equipment, prosthetics, and automated devices, shelters, elderly care insitutitions, and orphanages. Highways and air lanes circled around the main building, ambulances constantly flashing around like red fireflies.
It wasn't a surprise that the As - Shinobu, Gyomei, and Muichiro - were all situated here. Two of them expressed interest in being affiliated with the medical department. The third one, when asked, didn't seem to care either way.
The waiting room of the prosthetics department was spacious and crowded. There were twelve stands, arranged in a divided, row-like manner, that projected holograms of various prosthetic models. Some patients lingered next to them, checking out the updates. Others sat on the chairs next to the walls, flipping through electronic magazines or filling out medical forms. Laughing, children ran around.
Giyuu curiously swiped through the holographic models. The new designs for prosthetic arms were unusual, many installed with features he had no idea about. Stopping on one, he lowered his gaze at the dimensions: nine kilograms. Sighing, Giyuu scrolled to the next model. He needed the arm to lift at least twelve kilograms, but those were hard to come across.
Leaning back in his wheelchair, he turned his head and looked at a group of children hanging around the stand near him. They inhabited a floor underneath this one- the orphanage level - and were a constant sight.
The kids were reaching on their tiptoes, the stand too high for them to press the button. After contemplating a minute, Giyuu unlocked the wheels and rode over to them. The kids, completely unafraid of strangers, glanced at him in interest. There were two boys and three girls, ages ranging from three to six. They were wearing the clothes that the nurses handed out, though someone's gown, trailing several meters on the floor, seemed to have been stolen from the X-ray room.
Giyuu reached down with his left arm, slightly moving his fingers to indicate that he's willing to lift one of them up. The kids excitedly - and conspiratorially - whispered, suppressing their giggles, before pushing forward the smallest girl. She eagerly held onto the hashira's upper arm, little butt settling on his elbow, and he carefully scooped her up. Now one height with the stand, the girl slowly reached out and, holding her breath, pressed the button.
The hologram flickered and lit up with the newest model of a metal leg. The kids collectively gasped and, after a moment of awe, happily clapped. Giyuu slightly smiled and moved the girl forward; she quickly pressed the button, absorbing the models with a slightly parted mouth.
"Tomioka-san?"
Giyuu glanced to the side. The kids excitedly whooped and ran up to the gentle giant, twirling around his legs and clinging to his coat. The girl, forgetting about the holograms, hopped off the water hashira's arm and ran towards the others. Giyuu fully turned around, looking at the hashira face-on, and nodded.
"Himejima-san."
Uncontrollably laughing at the tears running down his cheeks, the kids hung on Gyomei's arms, preventing him from folding them into a prayer. Nonetheless, he seemed as serene and empathetic as always.
"I've heard about you and Kanroji-san's predicament. Are your wounds faring well?"
"Yes," Giyuu simply replied. "I'll be able to walk in an hour."
A relieved smile crossed Gyomei's lips. "I'm really glad."
The conversation fell into a short silence. Giyuu was hesitant to make further conversation: given his relationship with Shinobu, he felt that the elder hashira held several reservations against him. Slightly swinging his arms, much to the children's delight, Gyomei gestured with his head towards the stands.
"Are you thinking about a new design?"
"Only in a hypothetical situation." Giyuu absently gazed at the boy at his feet who was futilely trying to budge the wheel. "I have no problems with the current one."
"Funny you say so."
Gyomei slightly turned his head towards the voice. A barely noticeable frown appeared on Giyuu's face, before dissolving into an abstracted expression. Hands in pockets, Obanai noisessly walked up to them. The kids quieted down, eyeing the snake wrapped around the hashira's shoulders, and shuffled closer to Gyomei. The giant politely nodded to the approaching hashira.
"Good morning. You've been visiting Kanroji-san. How is she?"
"Well," Obanai flatly replied. His mismatched eyes shifted to Giyuu.
"You look horrible. Maybe you should think about a switch of equipment." The tone unnoticeably changed. "Hopefully, the problem lies only in that aspect."
"I'm good," Giyuu curtly answered. Obanai's eyes narrowed. The words, hot and black from rage, froze in the air.
"You're proving yourself incompetent."
Giyuu felt his fingers tightening against the armrest. He remained silent, anger bitter on his tongue, and held the hashira's stare.
"Tomioka-san and Kanroji-san betted on the odds. Unfortunately, they missed." Obanai's eyes darted at Gyomei, mouth curling in irritation, but he didn't say anything. The snake on his shoulders lazily shook its tail.
"Tomioka Giyuu?" A little girl in a white apron ran up to him. "Please report to Office #151."
The lips behind the mask smirked, but didn't say anything. Giyuu felt himself slightly grimacing in displeasure at Obanai's silent implication, but forced himself not to get angry. He looked at Gyomei and gave a short nod.
"Excuse me."
That one bowed, hands still occupied by the children. As the hashira turned around, they waved, funnily bending the little fingers. Obanai refrained from speaking, just slouched and watched Giyuu from the corner of his eye.
Moving the wheels, Giyuu made his way to the end of the room. At the elevator, he slightly backed to the side, allowing some people to walk out, before rolling in.
"Floor?" A colorless voice instantly asked him.
"One hundred," Giyuu answered, maneuvering so that he was facing the doors rather than the wall.
"Sector?"
"Fifty."
A man walked in after him, a backpack over his shoulders.
"Floor?"
"Sixty, no sector." The man lowered the backpack on the floor and, sighing, rubbed his neck. The elevator waited a minute longer for any extra passengers, then closed the doors. It lightly took off and zoomed through the shafts. The man reclined against a wall and, taking out a lighter, absently flicked it on. A laminated badge was tucked into his pocket, indicating that he was, despite the regular clothes, also hospitalized.
The elevator came softly to a stop.
"Floor sixty." The voice announced, opening the doors. The man picked up his backpack and walked out. Before the elevator closed, Giyuu told apart a colorful waiting room, with a glass installation standing next to each of the ten cabinet doors.
"Moving on to floor one hundred."
Giyuu motionlessly sat in the wheelchair. Without another presence to distract him, the encounter with Obanai replayed in his head. It left an unpleasant aftertaste.
"Floor one hundred."
However, instead of opening, the elevator slid carefully to the side, pulled by the horizontal cord in the shaft. Giyuu forced himself not to think about the other hashiras and focused on the elevator doors. Right now, they were probably passing all the offices numbered in the thirties.
The elevator stopped, and the doors noiselessly swooshed open. "Sector Fifty."
Giyuu bent his elbows, pressing on the wheels, and drove out of the cabin. The doors clinked shut behind him.
He appeared in a familiar, oval room with ten doors around the walls. It was classically furnished, with a red rug and a matted lamp giving off a yellow light. Giyuu rolled to the rightmost door and, slightly edging to the side, knocked.
A hologram flickered in front of him. Giyuu wordlessly held up the badge around his neck, and it disappeared. Without a sound, the door swung open, and he rolled in.
The room he appeared in was large and dark, mostly from the hologram: out of the round window, several narrow, ornate shades hanging down, were mountains. Fog slowly traveled between them. The low bench next to the window, unlike always, was empty.
Giyuu's eyes lingered at the bench, before traveling across the room to find the hashira. He didn't have to look very far.
On the floor, lying on a huge, velvet pillow was Muichiro. An open book was in front of him, though Giyuu doubted that the boy was reading anything; Gyomei's fat cat was soundly sleeping on the pages.
Without looking up from the book, Muichiro pointed to the left.
"Kochou's in her office."
Giyuu nodded and made his way to the door across the room. He knocked again, but this time, Shinobu silently opened the door, letting him through.
Giyuu slightly squinted, the contrast between the dark lounge and her office too strong.
Accustomed to the brightness, he looked around in curiosity. Books and jars filled with specimens were neatly arranged behind the glass doors of the cabinets. Several anatomic diagrams hung on the walls. Lifting the tray with flasks from the desk, liquefied plants shivering inside, Shinobu glimpsed upwards at Giyuu.
"Why are you looking so interested?" The corners of her lips tugged into a gentle, teasing smile. "It's not like you haven't been here before."
"You always add something new," Giyuu genuinely answered, still looking around. As she put away the microscope into one of the drawers, her smile became softer.
Giyuu noticed that the visitor's chair had already been pushed away, so he easily rolled up to the desk.
"Well," Shinobu sat down across from him and intertwined her fingers. "It's not like I called you in here out of any personal liking, Tomioka-san."
A short silence lapsed between them. Without anyone in the room with them, it was unnatural for her to speak like that. Giyuu kept quiet, wordlessly watching her and feeling how a knot forms in his stomach. The smile disappeared from Shinobu's face, expression becoming serious and almost melancholic. She reclined in her chair and gestured towards the transmitter in front of Giyuu.
"Master wanted to speak to you and, naturally, reached out to me," Shinobu quietly said, slightly turning in her chair. She hesitated. "Do you mind if I stay?"
"No," Giyuu shook his head, moving closer in the wheelchair. Shinobu silently regarded him for a moment, then leaned over and pressed the transmitter. It projected a holographic screen, static fluctuating for a few minutes, before clearing into a young face. Both hashiras straightened out.
"Good morning, Giyuu. How are you feeling?"
"Well, thank you for asking," Giyuu respectfully replied. The hologram prevented the hashiras from seeing each other, yet his eyes still flickered towards the woman across him.
"From what Kanzaburo reported, there were unforeseen complications with the demon."
"Yes."
Him allowing her to stay, indicating that he is comfortable with her being around, and she silently caring enough to participate - it pointed to something closer than partnership. Shinobu clasped her fingers tighter, sensing the old regret stirring again.
"Shinobu?" Ubayashiki glanced over his shoulder. Shinobu lifted her eyes.
"Yes, Master?"
"Is a week enough respite?"
"The shoulder won't heal completely, but the rest of the body should recover." Shinobu allowed herself a small smile.
"Provided Tomioka-san doesn't do anything crazy."
Ubayashiki smiled in return. "Naturally." He turned back to the young man.
"I don't want to send you home given the chance that you'll return to work much quicker."
Shinobu softly snorted. If Sanemi-kun figures out that Giyuu is incapacitated, he'll definitely send over all the paperwork that each hashira was required to do. A fleeting smirk passed over Giyuu's face; he was thinking of the same thing.
Ubayashiki waited a moment, unnoticeably observing their exchange, before reverting back to the topic.
"I was thinking of your sensei's place. Is that fine with you?"
Giyuu was not surprised, only a little uneasy. He didn't see his sensei often.
"Yes, Master." He glanced at Shinobu through the screen and saw that she was silently watching him.
"Perfect. I'll notify him." Ubayashiki paused. "There will be a meeting the day after tomorrow. You can join holographically. I'd like you to tell us about those demons you and Mitsuri met."
The hologram blinked and disappeared. There was a short silence, then Giyuu reached forward and turned off the transmitter.
"Demons?" He clarified, leaning back in the wheelchair. Shinobu eyed him, then sighed and stood up.
"You don't think the blood pool appeared all on its own, do you?" She walked up to the cabinet and opened one of the drawers. She quickly ruffled through the bags of prepared medicine. "But that sounds nice, doesn't it? I'd love to visit Urokodaki-sensei again."
Walking up to Giyuu, she handed him a paper bag.
"An antibiotic. Take it three times a day, every eight hours and preferably with food."
"For how long should I drink it?" Giyuu took the bag without looking at it, eyes locked on Shinobu.
"Four days."
She paused.
The clock, buried somewhere underneath the books and papers, quietly ticked, measuring out their silence. The light reflected on the glass bulbs, highlighting the petals inside.
Giyuu silently looked at her. He had no more reason to stay, but he couldn't bring himself to move.
They did not separate well. He never accused her so angrily and critically, while she never defied him so aggressively and bitterly. Giyuu's eyes darkened, remembering all the reasons why they ended up this way.
As she saw the small changes in his expression, Shinobu felt her heart still. Raging fear and shame squelched inside of her. She instinctively moved back, attempting to leave, and her lower spine softly knocked against her desk.
The sound returned Giyuu to his senses. He suddenly understood that she was afraid that he would repeat the question he asked the day before they separated. His eyes widened in realization, and he slightly reached forward. His fingers brushed the material of her skirt.
"Are you... doing well?"
Shinobu paused, looking down at him. The dread melted away to surprise, before softening to a small smile. Her eyes lingered on his apologetic, almost longing expression, down to his fingers, the skirt waving between them.
"Yes, Tomioka-san."
"You look more worn out than usual."
"Really?"
Shinobu didn't try defending herself. Not looking at him, she reached down with her hand and gently took his fingers. They were warmer than hers.
"Why don't you take it off?" Shinobu quietly asked, regarding the ring of his finger. She carefully rubbed it with her thumb.
"You're giving off the wrong impression to the others."
To be fair, she never wore hers even when they were together. It was uncomfortable when she worked in gloves, and she didn't want to accidentally dissolve it in the chemicals. Shinobu let go of his hand.
Still looking at her, Giyuu placed it back on his lap. By the way she avoided the topic, he understood that she still believed in her position. He inwardly winced. The ambers of old frustration and anger smouldered inside of him but, unlike six months ago, he couldn't find the vigor to act on them. Part of it was because he didn't want to drive her away even farther, until she's completely unreachable.
Giyuu unlocked the wheels and carefully backed away.
"I'll be going. It's a long way to sensei's place."
"Mmm."
Shinobu walked toward the door. When she placed her hand on the handle, she was unnerved with how much force her fingers squeezed it with. The reaction was absolutely instinctual.
"I'll investigate those demon corpses the team brought in. Hopefully, I'll find something useful to tell at the meeting."
She opened the door for him, and he silently rode past her.
In the dark lounge, Muichiro was now lying face to the ceiling, one arm dramatically flung over his head. The book was half-buried under the pillow, and the cat curled contently on the boy's stomach.
In one swift, memorized motion, the young woman's lips formed into a smile, concealing everything she felt.
"Daydreaming, Muichiro-san?" Shinobu brightly said, walking across the room and not really expecting an answer. Muichiro continued staring at the ceiling. The put-on cheerfulness slightly wavered as Shinobu noiselessly opened the door in front of Giyuu.
"I hope you get better soon, Tomioka-san."
He nodded. The wheelchair slightly rattled over the door frame.
Shinobu closed the door and dropped her hands into the pockets of her med coat. She was tired and, subconsciously, upset.
Muichiro's eyes slid down at her.
"You guys got into a fight."
Shinobu gave a small smile and sat down on the bench across from him. One of the shades lightly bumped into her shoulder.
"Be careful, Muichiro-san. It's not nice to poke into other people's businesses."
Muichiro's gaze returned back to the ceiling.
"I wasn't."
The door creaked open, and Gyomei carefully walked in.
"Good morning," he said, just as carefully closing the door back shut.
"Good morning," Shinobu and Muichiro echoed. The gentle giant picked up a traditional Japanese chest sitting squatly next to the wall.
"Going for a patrol, Himejima-san?" Shinobu commented, watching Gyomei's movements.
"Yes. It's just about the right time of the day." The blind eyes turned to the boy lying on the floor. "Muichiro-kun? Are you coming?"
Muichiro silently scrambled to his feet. Shinobu kneeled down and pulled by the strap a trombone case - specifically to match Tanjiro's - from underneath the bench.
Muichiro took it without thanking her and walked up to Gyomei. Shinobu gave a small wave, beaming at them and tilting her head.
"Safe travels! Best of luck."
"Ah," Gyomei echoed. Muichiro did a circular gesture with his hand, apparently a wave. The door closed behind them.
Slipping her shoes off, Shinobu tucked on the bench and lowered her head on her knees, tightly wrapping them with her arms. She closed her eyes, the weariness engulfing her small figure. The sound of the wind in the mountains, generated by the hologram, lulled next to her, and the bamboo leaves quietly rustled in the
Shinobu curled closer. Silently, she missed him.
Giyuu lied on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His backpack was ready, and the katana he picked up from the headquarters was packed tightly in the tennis bag. He could leave at any moment, but he couldn't move.
"Are you sure you don't want to come?" He finally asked. His throat was dry, and the words came out slowly.
"No." Sabito answered very quietly. The AutCo remained where it was, on the electric pad, except that Giyuu turned on the audio transmission. "It wouldn't do any good anyway."
Giyuu sighed and, gathering his strength, lifted up from the bed. Lowering his legs on the floor, he picked up the backpack and slipped the strap over his left shoulder. The right sleeve dangled empty.
"Do you want me to tell him anything?"
"No."
Giyuu stood up and picked up the tennis bag. He walked over to the electric pad. For a moment, he stared at the faint, rectangular sheet of paper. He hadn't even told Sabito why he and Shinobu broke up.
"They said they're opening a new cyberdimension in the coming days."
"I guess I'll check it out." The voice sounded unenthusiastic. There was a slight hesitation.
"I was searching these days as well. I didn't find anything."
The result was so steady that he didn't even feel the usual disappointment.
"I see. Thank you anyway."
"No problem, Giyuu."
Giyuu carefully moved the wheelchair aside and, opening the door, walked out of the apartment.
A/N: Hi, hi folks! New characters appearances by every minute!
Yes, Giyuu and Shinobu are a separated, though technically still married, couple. They broke apart due to... reasons I can't reveal yet. Regardless, I always found their relationship very touching and silently passionate, if you know what I mean, and it's what I'm striving to achieve in this story.
Also, regarding the time stuff in this chapter since it can be confusing. Giyuu & Mitsuri "finished" fighting the winged demon (more like escaped, tbh ;)) and winded up in the hospital several hours before Tanjiro&Co sets off to the electric company. (Mitsuri and Giyuu have been in the sewers for two-three days). So, in just a few hours, Tanjiro&Co will encounter the "shadow" demon. *Deep breath*
As always, thank you for reading and feel free to throw feedback at me. See you next update! :)