Chapter Text
Tomioka Giyuu briefly knew peace. When he was a young child catered to by his sister, he felt mostly at ease. He did not hold many worries then. His sister was a strong and responsible woman, she had quickly taken over taking care of him after their parents’ death.
He did not remember his parents much and his sister had become his whole world. She was a mother and a father. A friend and a sister.
Those were some happy and peaceful times.
But the world was not a kind place. His sister was snatched from him by cruel demons.
From then on, he learned that peace was not unconditional. Not while demons still existed.
He had moments of peace with Urokodaki and Sabito. But even then he knew that those moments were numbered. Not until the threat of demons was eliminated.
And he had been right .
He hated himself for having been right.
Giyuu’s life was dedicated to annihilating demons. He was ready to give his body and soul to the cause. His deepest wish was to die happily in service and be done with this existence of constant hurt and losses. It would have been a great end.
But he must have done something incredibly terrible in his past life, because that wish was not granted.
The eternal felicity had come, but it did not take Giyuu in the process.
And who knew that peace could be so confusing.
He had no family and no specific goal.
Tomioka Giyuu wanted to die. And that was a horrendously sad thought.
Every day he thought of it. But he knew he owed survival to himself and to the thousands of fallen slayers.
Surviving was once a tenuous thing. But it became his duty.
He had looked death in the eyes when he was little more than a child and he had now the responsibility to live.
He could learn to live. He was willing to. He had friends who cared enough about him. People still needed help. Some wandering demons were still hiding in the dark forests.
Tomioka Giyuu would wake up at dawn. Head to the next village. Slay demons on the path if there were any. Offer his help to the villagers. Assist people in any way he could. Eat what was given to him and then go to bed wherever it could be possible.
Sometimes he slept. Often he could not.
He was waiting.
There was no other alternative for him.
***
Funnily, the war had made everyone slightly warmer and less on edge.
The first time Giyuu had stumbled upon Shinazugawa Sanemi, sitting cross legged on the tatami, sipping a cup of tea in an inn he had stopped by for food and shelter, he thought the man might scream angrily at him.
It was the first time he had seen him since briefly meeting him after the battle in the Butterfly Estate.
Surprisingly, no cuss, insult, or general look of contempt was thrown his way. Shinazugawa had simply looked at him expressionless, before nodding a greeting.
Albeit slightly confused, Giyuu gave him a slight bow.
He went to sit on the tatami, at a table next to where Shinazugawa was.
Somehow, he could feel a sharp look digging at his side. Glancing up at the Wind user, he could see several nerves bulging out of his forehead and a very angry expression on his face.
“Think you’re too good to sit with me?”
Giyuu did not know if it were him who always did things that were not socially acceptable, or if Shinazugawa was always quick to jump to negative conclusion.
He gave him a rather deadpanned, confused stare.
“You did not invite me to sit with you,”
Why every time Giyuu said something simple and direct it was always faced with angry looks of disdain.
Shinazugawa had even more veins popping off and he was turning red.
Giyuu thought he looked a bit like a fly.
“Look you dipshit, I am actually trying not to throw this table at you out of mutual respect and past history. Don't make it harder for me,”
Giyuu raised up an eyebrow, “it did not seem like you were trying,”
Again, direct and simple sentences tended to cause anger and disdain. He thought that he could start talking in riddles. He would have to ask Tanjiro if it were a good idea. The Kamado brother was more socially aware and sometimes gave him advice.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Shinazugawa had snapped one of his palms on the table and was shooting daggers at him with his eyes. His other hand was brought up in front of him. He had contorted it and it had veins popping off of it. Giyuu never understood why Shinazugawa always did that bizarre hand thing, as he called it. It did not even seem specifically threatening, just a bit silly.
“Are you really an insensitive fuck or are you a complete dumbass? We know each other and we greeted each other. The next thing to do is obviously to come over, you dumb fuck,”
Giyuu tilted his head with an, “ oh ” sound. Then, he pushed himself up and then sank down next to Shinazugawa, “I will sit here then,”
Shinazugawa grunted in exasperation. The guy was most definitely riling him up on purpose.
He let himself sit down nonetheless.
The Water man was weird as fuck.
Giyuu thought that Shinazugawa had gotten softer since the war. He would have never just screamed a bit and hit a table before calming down before. He could not even remember a day where the Wind Breath user did not bear his sword at him at a meeting.
They sat in silence until Giyuu had gotten his meal.
“What have you been up to?” Shinazugawa asked rather absentmindedly.
Giyuu shrugged, looking down at his food, “nothing much,”
A muscle went in Shinazugawa jaw, “you mean to tell me that for the past few months you have just been moving from inn to inn sightseeing?”
“No. I go from village to village to offer my help,” then, he remembered that Tanjiro had told him to always speak in full sentences, so he added, “I visit Tengen’s and Kamado’s households sometimes and I go to the Butterfly Estate for medical checkups once a month,”
That should do. Giyuu was proud of himself for being a functional human being who could converse with other people.
There was a long silence before Giyuu remembered Kamado Nezuko’s words to him: a conversation is like playing with a ball. It is give and receive .
But wouldn’t Shinazugawa get mad if Giyuu was being too nosy?
“How about you?” He spoke before he could think it through very much. Shinazugawa made him very anxious and he didn’t like being cussed at.
To his surprise, he did not get mad, simply shrugged while taking a sip of tea, “pretty much the same except I don’t visit anybody,”
But that was a lie. Giyuu knew from the Kamado siblings that sometimes Shinazugawa would drop by when no one was home to leave some treats.
He refrained from commenting on it though.
The rest of the meal was spent in silence.
Shinazugawa was the first to leave with a nod and a wave.
Huh , the war truly had made everyone slightly warmer and less on edge...
***
The next time Tomioka Giyuu saw Shinazugawa was at the Butterfly Estate.
He had come by for a monthly checkup.
The butterfly girls had presented him with a medication the late Kocho had developed to stall down the effects of the Demon Slayer Marks.
He took the vial of pills and put it in one of his pockets.
Giyuu was smiling to himself as he walked towards the exit.
Kocho was long gone but she still left her knowledge behind.
She was the brightest person Giyuu had ever known.
It pained him that she was gone. But he was glad for her in a way. She could finally rest and be with her loved ones.
She was a good woman who always talked to him, even at his worst and never took any offense in anything he had said.
Well…Kocho probably found tormenting him humorous. But still…She was, erm, fun in a way.
When death would come for him, he wished to greet her in the afterlife along with the rest of their fallen comrades.
“The fuck you daydreaming about?”
Giyuu’s senses had greatly downgraded since the war. Everyone had strained themselves greatly. He was not as good at picking up presences, especially former trained slayers.
Shinazugawa was crouching down in the front garden, seemingly petting a dog. Giyuu grimaced at the sight of the animal and took a slight step back.
The Wind Breath user quirked up an eyebrow, “didn’t think I would scare you this much,”
“No,” deadpanned Giyuu, looking pointedly at the animal, “I don’t like dogs,”
Shinazugawa looked down at the dog, who was looking rather angrily at the Water Breath user.
“Your soul must be fucking rotten,” he got up to his feet, walking towards Giyuu, “even animals don’t like you,”
That one stung. But, Giyuu did have people who liked him now. Not many animals appreciated him though. Well, except Inosuke, if he counted…
“Did they give you those meds?” Shinazugawa was looking rather serious as he asked that question.
Giyuu nodded.
“Are you going to take them?”
The Wind user’s question was not really the one he had asked. Even Giyuu could understand that. Him and Shinazugawa were plagued with the same curse. Not the Demon Slayer Mark of course, but the heavy, haunting, insistent weight of guilt for having survived when so many had died.
None of them felt specifically scared of the Demon Slayer Mark nor of its consequences.
If anything, they were both patiently waiting for it.
What was there more for any of them to live for?
That was what Shinazugawa question was about.
Are you giving up?
Giyuu looked briefly at the horizon, then shifted his gaze back at the ex-Hashira, “I don’t know. But it would be a waste of Kocho’s time and talent not to take them,”
“Hum,” grunted simply Shinazugawa.
He looked at him rather annoyingly before shrugging and turning back on his heels with a last wave.
***
Giyuu always made a point to sit down once a week and answer the letters that had been sent to him throughout it. Tengen’s letters were always the hardest to reply to. The whole household wrote it together so it rarely made much sense at all. It was always fun to try and decipher who was writing from the style and tone of it.
He could somehow make out of it that the household was inviting him for a hot springs trip. That was bound to be very embarrassing. But he quite liked how they always tried to include him. So, he answered positively.
Tanjiro’s letters often looked like reports. Giyuu tried to add in as many details as he could in his answers. He would be visiting them soon for a few days.
In his letter, Tanjiro briefly spoke of Shinazugawa. As usual, he had written him many letters and received no answer at all.
He was told Shinazugawa could not write to save his life. Giyuu was confident that even if he could write, the silver haired man probably would not have anyway.
Giyuu shifted his gaze towards the fresh parchment in front of him. He, himself, had never written anything to the Wind Pillar. He would not even know what to write exactly.
A daily life report might be too intimate. Giyuu did that with Tanjiro but the boy was a friend.
Asking him about his well being would be useless as he would not be answering anyway.
But…Well, Giyuu still really wanted to be friends. Or at least, not be hated by the man.
How did he become friends with Tanjiro again?
Talking about past troubles and feelings and then having a cold soba eating contest.
Giyuu dipped his brush in ink and began writing.
Shinazugawa would probably cuss at him if he were to ask him about his past or his feelings.
Food was a safe ground though.
***
Shinazugawa Sanemi was not angry at the world anymore. He felt content.
He gave his all during the war. Body and soul.
He lost everyone that had ever counted to him. He did not have a specific goal anymore and was simply helping out people in need until death would come for him.
Only then, will he be happy again. Sanemi would see his brothers and sisters. He would tell Genya how much he was proud of him. He would be able to apologize to Masachika for being weak. Maybe he would even get to see Kanae. He would probably not know what to tell her. She always made him sort of nervous.
Sanemi had many regrets. He had not always acted in the nicest way, but he often felt it was the right way.
He never minded being seen as the bad guy, as long as he could keep his loved ones safe.
And wasn’t he a bad guy anyway? What did his actions cause apart from sadness and hurt?
He killed his own mother. He abandoned his only brother left alive. He might as well have killed him with his own hands with the way he had been treating the poor boy who looked up to him.
Sanemi took a shaky breath, ignoring the tingling sensation in his eyes.
It killed him.
It truly killed him inside to remember Genya, who deserved so much more than he got.
Staying alive was Sanemi’s punishment.
For having shed his mother’s blood. For having treated Genya so inhumanly.
He was not allowed to join them just yet. No, he had to suffer their losses.
He accepted it. So he was waiting patiently, hoping that this Demon Mark would take him sooner than expected. He prayed for it so hard, every night before drifting to sleep.
And every day he was disappointed for having to suffer for a longer time.
But it was fine.
It would come.
It was fine.
In the dimly lit room of the inn he had been staying at, Sanemi was sitting cross legged at a table.
The remaining fingers of his right hand were toying with the little vial of medicinal pills given to him at the Butterfly Estate a few weeks prior.
Not that he would be taking those pills anyway. He was praying rather hard for the Demon Mark to kick-in early and was not about to trifle with its effects.
The other hand was holding a letter.
When the crow announced who the letter was from, Sanemi simply shot up an eyebrow.
He did not harbor any specific rage towards the Water Pillar, but he did not really like him either.
The man was a special brand of bizarre and he looked standoffish and a total snob.
He was weird and had no facial expressions.
But most importantly, Sanemi thought Tomioka was a rather poor excuse for a Demon Slayer. Not because he was not strong. He made it to the pillar ranks, so he must have been strong enough.
It was rather because he seemed to always wallow in self-pity. Even during the war, Sanemi had to scream at him to take action and stop crying in his corner.
Sanemi didn’t know the faintest about Tomioka’s life, and frankly, he was not interested. But, most members of the Demon Slayer Corps lost people who were dear to them. Most of them lost their families and friends. Sanemi himself felt like life had stopped the day his mother and siblings died. Even the colors turned dull.
So what ?
Move the fuck on. Continue fighting. Break some demons’ necks and scream at two or three lower ranked slayers but move the fuck on.
Ugh . Even thinking about the man made him mad.
But well, he did find it sort of sweet that Tomioka wanted to get along. He had found it rather sweet during the training sessions before the war too but he hated his guts too much to dwell on that. It was definitely very bizarre, but still a bit sweet nonetheless.
It was sweet in a pitiful way. There he was Tomioka Giyuu, the Water Hashira, who survived the war against Kibutsuji Muzan, strong and fierce but desperately trying to gather as many people he could that would tolerate him enough to have a conversation with.
It was so pitiful, it was almost funny.
But hey, it would probably not hurt to go along with him once or twice.
Like, not enough to be actual friends because Sanemi was still not that desperate nor kind, and quite frankly, he did not like the man very much. It was a matter of basic compatibility.
But they could maybe be like old colleagues who went through the same stuff.
Provided Tomioka did not annoy him into ghosting him.
Which was very likely.
Sanemi read the letter again, and puffed out a laugh.
Tomioka was such a fucking child .
He wanted them to have a cold soba eating contest in the same inn they had met a few weeks prior in a week.
He scrunched up the letter and threw it on the wooden floor.
Still toying with the medicine vial, Sanemi thought about Tomioka’s letter. He was not one to judge considering he had never bothered to learn how to write, but he still noted that the handwriting was highly shaky and irregular.
If memory served him right, Tomioka had always been right handed prior to the battle.
He lost his writing arm and he was still insisting on sending letters.
Popping open the vial of pills, Sanemi threw two of them in his mouth.
Pff, Tomioka was so pitiful indeed.