Chapter Text
Tomioka Giyuu is the first one to remember.
It’s July. He is thirteen years old, and had just returned from his kenjutsu class. Kenjutsu. Such a strange sport in the modern era. The practice of traditional samurai arts was even stranger for a young boy to dedicate half of his time to. Yet he does anyway.
“Giyuu,” His mother had approached him when he was eight. “Do you want to play any sports?”
He pondered for a moment before looking up at her with glowing eyes. “Kenjutsu.”
Nobody could figure out why he would choose that out of everything. Neither could he. He could’ve picked basketball, or soccer. But something told him he needed to pick that one. He just barely knew kenjutsu even existed, however he answered his mother’s question with absolute certainty.
“Why kenjutsu?”
“Kendo is fine too, if you think I shouldn’t do it.”
“No, it’s alright… I just didn’t know you were interested in sword arts.”
Neither did I, Giyuu remembers thinking.
But now, he remembers.
Everything.
His bokuto was in front of him, laid out neatly on the ground. Just because you’re so strong, one of his peers had snarled at him earlier a few days ago, You think you’re better than us? He didn’t know why it was so familiar. Those words didn’t sting him, nor did they make him upset. It was just like he had heard them time and time again, and remained indifferent towards them.
Giyuu began racking his brain. It was like since that day, he felt a clenching feeling in his heart and as if his brain was made out of a brick wall. He remembers nothing. He was alive, yet his memories leading up to this day meant nothing to him. None of it mattered, and what he truly desired to know was out of his reach, like it had slipped his mind. He’d search every crevice of his brain, as if the creases and wrinkles were like a maze, but all the paths left to dead ends.
Today, he was transferred to a higher level class at his Kenjutsu school.
The teacher of that class was named Urokodaki Sakonji.
The most excellent student of that class was named Sabito.
Tomioka Giyuu remembers.
He is sitting on the ground of his bedroom, when one great blow of anguish hits his whole body.
Tsutako. Tsutako. Why did you die? No. You’re alive. But you died.
“Don't you ever say that you wish that you had died again! If you do, we're through!”
Next, there was a stinging pain across his left eye as if his flesh had been cut, and his heart squeezed with despair as he felt tears stream out of his eyes. His breath is quick and shallow.
Sabito. You should have survived. But I don’t even know you. You should have been the one to pass, out of all people. But I don’t even know you.
He can barely breathe. The pain in his heart is too much, and he wants to scream in agony, but he covers his mouth and swallows his voice as he feels different parts of his body throb with pain, clutching at the nonexistent injuries.
Demons. I hate demons. Demons are a fairytale, though. I hate them so much. Die, die, die.
Eventually, the throbbing stops. Almost like he stopped receiving any injuries. His mind is racing, and all of a sudden the dead ends in his maze of a brain open up, and connect their paths with one another. Everything. He could see everything clearly, now. No need to search so hard anymore.
“Giyuu. You are an exceptional child, do not frown upon yourself so much.”
Oyakata-sama. What a gentle voice. What a gentle smile. Who are you? What a gentle father, I wish I could’ve saved you.
The injuries stopped for some time, but the pain in his heart prickles him to no end.
“Nice to meet you, Tomioka Giyuu. Namu amida butsu…”
“I am Rengoku Shinjuro. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Oh my, hello! Would you like to see the flowers in the Butterfly Garden, some day?”
“The Water Hashira, is it? Zero flamboyance. So not flashy, I don’t get it. How’d you get here faster than me?”
“Piece of shit. No greeting? Do you think you’re high and mighty or something? Too bad, we’re the same rank now. You piss me off.”
“I am sorry for your loss, Kocho. I send my prayers to Kanae.”
He sees a poor charcoal seller and his demon turned sister.
“I beg of you… Please do not kill my sister. She’s different.”
“You can’t grasp the authority of someone else’s life or death!”
“Are you awake? Visit the elder named Urokodaki Sakonji living at the foot of Mount Sagiri. Tell him that Tomioka Giyuu sent you.”
He sees the new hashira, some familiar and others not.
“Hey, Tomioka-san. Hey, hey. What are you doing? Hey.”
“I, Rengoku Kyojuro, will take on the duty of my father, and become the new Flame Hashira!”
“Oh… I forgot your name. Sorry. Are you the Water Hashira?”
“What a nuisance you are, Tomioka.”
“Ah! Tomioka-san! Hello! Isn’t the weather so lovely today?”
A thousand voices rush through his mind within a split second. Some of them he recognizes. Some of them linger in the back of his mind, waiting to be remembered. Memories play out like a film roll in a cinema, slowly unravelling itself. They were so distant, yet not a single moment felt unfamiliar.
He had lived through them once.
He remembers.
“Caw! Emergency summons! Emergency summons! The Ubuyashiki Mansion is under attack! The Ubuyashiki Mansion is under attack! Caw!”
He sees flames go up in front of his eyes. He hears the sound of the biwa.
“Tanjiro!”
He starts to feel more injuries again. They slash at him, but he finds that he bore them better compared to when he first started remembering. At first, he just wanted to stop hurting. Now, it is like his body was weathered against them.
Suddenly, he feels as if he was blown away and crashing through walls. His lower shoulder was screaming at him.
“Great job, Upper Moon Three, there is a searing pain in my back. Now I’m angry.”
“Deceased! Kocho Shinobu faced Upper Moon Two, and died! Caw!”
“Murata! Get Tanjiro to safety and treat him! Hurry!”
“Tomioka! Don’t fucking stand there! If you die, I’ll kill you!”
Giyuu feels like fire ants are all over his body, biting at his skin. His right arm is in unexplainable pain. It burns, it throbs, it stings, everything. Like a lion dug its claws into his shoulder, then ripped his arm off with its teeth. His shoulders feel heavy, just like when he swung his bokuto at practice for much too long with all of his strength. His face itches, as if he wants to scratch and wipe off the blood that wasn’t there.
He’s so tired.
“Anyone who can move! Grab your weapons and get over here now! Tanjiro has been turned into a demon, keep him under the sun and burn him to death! Kill Tanjiro before he kills someone!”
So, so tired. Why did this happen to him?
I’m begging you, just stay. Stay as Tanjiro. Die as Tanjiro.
He grabs his chin with his hands. This time, a lion definitely had clawed him. Or it was Tanjiro. Who is Tanjiro?
His eyes are spinning, and his head feels light. Is this what blood loss feels like? But he’s not bleeding anywhere. Despair is all he can feel right now, and it replaces the prickling sensation in his heart.
“Don’t kill anyone! Onii-chan, I’m begging you!”
“Nezuko-chan! Get away from him! No!”
Kocho’s…?
“Stop, Tanjiro. Come back to us now.”
His tears have been unstoppable in the last few moments. But within a few seconds, his pain is relinquished. The prickling feeling in his heart is gone, and all he can feel is true serenity and contentment. Little to no more bad memories are rolling out of the film, and he watches the movie of his life with peace.
“The Demon Hunters are disbanded as of today. We, the Ubuyashiki family, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”
To anybody else, it was a mere four minutes.
“I heard from Upper Moon One that mark bearers only live up to twenty-five.”
“What?”
“Shinazugawa, I’m sure your brother is waiting for you in heaven, so don’t worry about us too much. Rest well.”
“Tomioka-san, I’m afraid you’re running out of time. I was surprised when you even managed to celebrate two more birthdays.”
To him, it was twenty-seven years.
Tomioka Giyuu is the first to remember.
He is a demon slayer, through and through. Destroyer of demons, protector of humans.
He supposes now he knows why he was interested in sword arts.
滅
When he turns sixteen, he goes to find Yushiro.
It’s not that hard, surprisingly. Apparently, he has been gaining attention as a painter. Someone who only painted a mysterious woman named Tamayo, who didn’t exist.
She didn’t exist.
For the past three years, he lived on while knowing that his comrades had to have reincarnated, whether it be in Japan or as far as America. If he existed in this life, then they did too. This is the conclusion he came to.
The first thought he had after he remembered, was that he couldn’t let them remember.
They didn’t need to go through that pain again, if they remembered and re-lived their short yet sorrowful lives. After experiencing it himself, he decided that they absolutely could not remember. If they were destined to, they would be better off not existing at all.
In the meantime, he got close with Sabito. He didn’t mean to, nor did he plan on approaching him in the first place. But just like in the past, they just clicked. Introductions were in place, they knew what each other looked like, and that was enough for them. It pained him to remember the past, and everything was just repeating itself.
Sabito, as expected, is an excellent student. There might be no other kid at his school that is as skilled as him. People say that Urokodaki trained him personally since he was a boy. In the past, Giyuu and Sabito would’ve arrived at his doorstep around the same time, then to go on to live, breathe, eat and train together.
sabito
> come practice today
no <
> why
im busy <
> ok
Passionate as ever.
It is a day when his sister and both his parents were out of the house, leaving him alone. He quickly scrawls a note, writing that he had gone out with Sabito (ironic considering he just turned him down) and would be back before dinner time. He slips on his shoes, and locks the door behind him.
He lives in Nogata. If he remembers correctly from the story Tanjiro told him all those years ago, Yushiro’s home should be in Asakusa. There is no solid plan, only instinct. Something tugged at his wrist, pushed his back, propelled the soles of his feet. He needs no map to know where he’s going.
Giyuu boards the bus at the stop just outside his neighborhood, opting to sit at the back. He wouldn’t be getting off for a while now, after all, the journey from his home to Asakusa would take an hour at minimum. The bus moves along the road for only a few moments, before stopping and picking up an elderly lady who sits at the front, in the priority seating.
He can’t help but think she looks just like one of the grannies at the Wisteria Houses.
His head is blank. His eyes are calm. Yet inside his heart, a storm is brewing. The anger and pain deeply embedded into him fuels the crashing waves and the thunder. But why? In this life, his sister was alive. Sabito was alive. Tanjiro, Nezuko and their friends were probably alive too, along with his former colleagues. There were no demons. No Kibutsuji Muzan. Only humans, the ones he would’ve given his life protecting a hundred years ago. Nothing to cry for, no one to mourn in this life. So why did he feel anguish constantly wrapping around his being?
Probably because he remembers.
Essentially, he is now Tomioka Giyuu of the Taisho Era. No longer the little boy from Nogata, in the modern day. His memories have long been overwritten with old ones, his body taken over by his past self.
Himself.
He is Tomioka Giyuu. Yet he is not.
To him, he had still lost his sister to the demons on her wedding day. Sabito was still another child to die on Mount Fujikasane. Countless comrades fell in battle, in his mind.
The thirteen-year-old Giyuu on that day, died. The Giyuu that had loving parents, a doting older sister and bright friends.
He is an imposter in his own body, he supposes. But to others, he is still the same. The same old Tomioka Giyuu. That is enough.
He arrives in Asakusa an hour and a half later.
Nothing looks the same anymore, to no one's surprise. Most of the familiar buildings and paths have been replowed and demolished, with tall apartments and such. There were a few pagodas sticking out from the sea of roofs, though, as if they were telling him that they hadn’t disappeared just yet.
Once again, he has no idea where he’s going. It’s just his gut telling him where to go, but even then he doesn’t think twice whenever his feet make a random turn right or continue straight on.
Eventually, he reaches a house. It’s on the outskirts of the city, and the structure is outdated. It reminds him of the Water Estate. Giyuu opens the gate, hearing the groan of the tall wooden doors as he slips inside. The garden behind the gate is just as beautiful as the architecture, and he thinks that whoever lives here must take great care of it. Most of the flowers were purple, though, lacking variety, yet he felt as if all of them had their own personality. Like how a person might have a different expression.
“Tamayo is the most beautiful woman in the world, of course. I have memorized each and every expression she has made and ingrained it into my mind.”
A demon boy’s voice from some time ago rings in his ears.
He reaches the main door, knocking twice with the metal handle. “Yushiro-san.”
Silence. Did demons sleep during the daytime?
That was something that eluded him, despite being a demon hunter for seven years.
“Yushiro-san.” He knocks again. “It’s Tomioka Giyuu.”
Then again, this could be just a random civilian’s home, and he could be causing a disturbance by arriving unannounced and knocking on the door of a stranger’s residence. He’s about to leave, but he hears footsteps behind the door, and finally catches a glimpse of piercing lavender eyes glaring at him in the dark.
“Yushiro-san. It’s been a while.”
“You are really Tomioka Giyuu?” The boy inside questions, almost accusatory. As if he was saying the person before him was a fraud. He wants to point out that he had the same face and voice as he did before, but he tries another way.
“Yes. We fought in the battle against Muzan.” Giyuu responds, and he hopes the demon can sense the sincerity in his truth. He pauses, thinking for a moment. “Tamayo helped Kocho create the drugs to defeat him. Oh, and to turn Nezuko back into a human.”
“I was the Water Hashira. Tanjiro was supposed to be my successor. He turned into a demon after the battle. Shinazugawa and I were the only surviving hashira—”
“Alright, I get it.” Yushiro snaps, then opens the door wider while simultaneously stepping further back into the darkness. “You are definitely Tomioka.”
Giyuu takes that as an invitation to step inside. The main corridor is dark, but further inside, the oil lamps on the walls are lit. It brings him a sense of nostalgia, to see a home not unlike his own during his time alive in the Taisho Era. Although very unclear in the dark, he can see a painting of Tamayo hung up just above a desk drawer, with violet hydrangeas in a vase by the entrance.
He takes off his shoes. “Pardon the intrusion.”
“Intruding, yes, you are,” Yushiro in front of him mutters, picking up a cat that wandered in from another room. He recognizes the same pattern he saw on the cat that injected antibodies into all of the hashira while they were in the heat of the battle.
“That cat…”
“It’s Chachamaru. He’s a demon, too. Don’t you recognize the cat that saved your asses from Muzan?”
“But of course.”
The boy leads him into a room with nothing but a painting of Tamayo, a kotetsu and a tea tray sitting on top of it. Besides that, there is a goldfish bowl in the corner and another vase of purple flowers. The yukimi shoji are shut tight, and only the faintest glow of sunlight is allowed in.
Yushiro gestures for him to sit down, while he prepares tea. Giyuu settles on the opposite side of the kotetsu.
“Why did you come here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He looks at Giyuu with contempt, yet he senses no hostility from him. Otherwise, his skin would be prickling and his hand would be reaching for the nonexistent katana at his belt.
A cup of tea is poured and pushed in front of Giyuu. “Well, I have some questions. How do you know who you are?”
He frowns, looking at the flowers floating at the top of his cup. “One day, I met my master and my best friend. When I went home, I remembered everything.”
“That’s… Definitely interesting,” Yushiro deadpans. He sighs, taking a sip out of his own cup of tea. “I never specialized in psychology, so I can’t help you if that’s what you’re here for.”
“I’m not here for anything,” Giyuu clarifies, looking up to meet the other boy’s gaze. Back then, he could never be able to imagine a time when he would be glad to see the eyes of a demon. “I just wanted to know how you were doing. It’s been a hundred years, no?”
“Hmph. So what of it? I didn’t take you to be a sentimental man.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Whatever.” Yushiro huffs, petting Chachamaru who had settled on his lap. “So, are you off to find the others now?”
“No.”
The demon boy stares at him incredulously. “I don’t get you. I’m sure you want to see Tanjiro, at least. Or the Wind Hashira. Weren’t you close with the Insect Hashira as well?”
“That doesn’t matter— I will not try to find them. The last thing I want to do is to trigger their memories…” Giyuu finally picks up the cup in front of him and takes a sip of the tea. What a lovely aroma. “…To make them relive the pain they felt in the past is too cruel.”
“The past?”
“I felt it, the past. Every single scar and wound I bore on my body. All the sorrows that filled my heart. Gruesome scenes that I could never forget.” To even think back of what he experienced that night made him weary, and the memories just kept coming back whenever he did.
“Interesting…” Yushiro ponders, hand on his chin. “I don’t know what could cause that. But I suppose there are a lot of strange things you’ve experienced in this world, right?”
Giyuu thinks about his past life. Nobody in the present would ever believe him if he told them about breathing styles and that demons once existed. There were times while he would practice the steps and movements of Water Breathing, for old times sake, and Sabito would excitedly grab Urokodaki’s attention.
“Hey, Master. Look at how Giyuu is moving! It’s just like water.” Sabito would exclaim while watching him with an intent gaze. “Where did he learn how to do that?”
‘You could master the style within two days, even if your memories are lost.’ Giyuu would then think to himself. He had to cease doing anything remotely close to routines that might seem familiar to Sabito or Urokodaki, he realized one day as he was about to practice striking his sword in a way that resembled cutting a demon’s head.
There are a few moments of silence, before Yushiro speaks up again. “You should go see Ubuyashiki Kiriya.”
“Oyakata-sama…?” Giyuu tilts his head. He figures that while the clan may still remain, the two masters that he knew would have already long since passed on. Even if it was in the history of the Ubuyashiki family’s duty to sustain the demon hunters back then, he still couldn’t just go up to them and tell them that he remembers everything.
“Yes. Ubuyashiki’s son was the first man to live without the family curse since Muzan became a demon. He’s the oldest person in Japan, I believe.” Yushiro stands up, and walks out to another room next door. His voice becomes faint as the distance between them widens, before he comes back with a few papers in hand.
“We wrote to each other quite often, in fact.” He hands Giyuu the papers. Some of them are yellow, and of the traditional washi variety, while others are standard B5 or lined paper with characters written in a ballpoint pen. He reads one of the older looking ones.
Dear Yushiro-san,
I hope you are well. The sun is out for longer now that it is the height of summer. Do exercise caution when considering going out.
I have included souvenirs for you. Recently, Giyuu managed to buy many Western goods from a merchant, as he plans on sending Nezuko some gifts. However, he left with me a set of oil paints and brushes. I have no use for them, but you have been feeling restless, no? Please, give painting a try to take your mind off of things.
If you ever feel as if the boredom is rotting your skull, do come over and visit the Ubuyashiki estate. We have not seen you since your visit to Tanjiro. Perhaps you’d fancy a game of shogi?
I await your response.
Sincerely, Ubuyashiki Kiriya.
It appears to be from a time when they had won the war not too long ago, considering all information provided in the letter. He picks out another letter from the pile behind the one he just read. This time, the paper is slightly less worn, but it still must have dated back in the Taisho Era, so he still should have been alive at the time.
Dear Yushiro-san,
It has been a while. I’m glad to have read your response to my letter, and by the time you have received this, I believe it will be too late.
Giyuu frowns.
Firstly, thank you for considering making medicine for the marked ones. However, Sanemi’s health is deteriorating at an alarming pace, and I’m afraid that any attempts at treatment will be futile. He has been residing at the Butterfly Estate with the utmost care from Kanao and Aoi, along with advanced medical services. At the moment, Giyuu seems to be doing well, although his body appears to be extremely weak. Some tests are being run, I believe. I’ll relay the results to you when the time comes.
If you wish to continue your research, it’d be my pleasure to provide any support I can. In the meantime, I must thank you once again for being so cooperative with us.
Sincerely, Ubuyashiki Kiriya.
Oh. This must have been when Sanemi collapsed on that fateful day. Giyuu was never given too much detail after he asked Kocho’s tsuguko about the Wind Hashira’s health. The only thing he knew was that he had suddenly fallen over while on a walk, and was brought over to her estate in terrible shape. When he woke up, his vitals were so terrible that Aoi had apparently been the one to personally go to Kiriya and beg to ask for assistance from Yushiro.
“He lives in Itabashi city, I’ll tell him you’re coming over.” Yushiro takes another sip of his tea and pushes a slip of paper towards Giyuu. “We don’t write as often anymore, as his abilities are limited at his grand age. He’ll sometimes have someone else transcribe his words onto paper, if he ever wants to send me a message.”
“I appreciate your help, Yushiro-san.” Giyuu takes the paper. It has an address scrawled down on it in ink. How old must this paper be? “Thank you for your hospitality. I will take my leave now.”
“Don’t get too comfortable, hashira. I should just slam the door in your face.”
“I see.”
Giyuu leaves Yushiro’s home, and the demon boy surprisingly sees him out with an unpleasant expression on his face, and he in fact does not slam the door on him. As he walks out of the garden and carefully closes the worn out gate, he begins looking for bus routes home. He finds that the wait time between now and the next bus is ridiculously long, and if he wants to be home without any suspicions, he needs to get back by four.
The time he’d have to spend waiting for the next bus combined with the ride back would land him at home at around five. That wouldn’t do.
He plays around on his search browser, looking for any more options. The next best route home doesn’t have as much of an outrageous wait time, except for the fact that the bus stop would be in Takinogawa. The predicament he finds himself makes his eye twitch.
It’s an hour walk away… I guess I could run. But I don’t know if my body can handle it.
Speed and stamina training was an absolute must for any slayer back then, and even more so for the hashira. Giyuu can never forget the training Urokodaki put him through, or the way he disciplined himself to reach new heights after miserably passing the final selection without killing a single demon. However, even if those lessons were drilled into his muscles and memory, there was no telling if he could rely on his current physique. Since regaining his memories, he had mastered Total Concentration Breathing: Constant once again, but it wasn’t like he could put in the same training regimens as before.
He lets out a deep sigh, before looking up the directions to the bus stop in Takinogawa.
滅
Giyuu manages to reach Takinogawa in half the time it was estimated to take to walk there.
He is definitely slower than he was during his time as a hashira, but it’s better than being a slug. However, he is still fast enough that the people he passed by on the way wouldn’t be able to catch a glimpse of him.
The bus stop is in a residential neighborhood. It’s not too different from his own, save for the fact that there are a lot less children running around. Most of the people that he sees in the area are at least in middle school and older.
“Hey! I’m serious, get away from me.”
Giyuu looks over to his left, and he sees a girl who appears to be a little younger than him turn the corner. At first, he pays it no mind, thinking that she might be playing with her classmates or something. However, before he looks away, he is struck with a sudden realization.
“To-mi-o-ka. What a coincidence this is. As usual, you’re bad at communicating.”
He needs to get away from her. He averts his gaze, as if she’ll disappear. As if he doesn’t exist. Nonetheless, she just comes straight his way. If seeing two people from his past triggered his memories, what would it do to Shinobu if she saw him? Maybe he wasn’t as close to her as Tanjiro was, but still, they were paired together quite often and worked with each other the most.
“Don’t overreact, bitch! I just wanted to get some directions!”
“Oh, really? Then why’d you try to grab me when I already gave them to you?”
“Listen, here… I’ll really show you if you don’t shut up!”
However, he cannot ignore it, no matter how much he tries. If he were to turn his head away to a situation like this, what would that make him? The equivalent of a slayer who stands by and watches a demon devour an innocent girl?
Shinobu is about to pass him, but he hurriedly grabs her wrist and pulls her behind him.
“Hey—”
“Excuse me, sir. Why are you bothering her?”
The man who has been following after Shinobu makes a stop in front of Giyuu and gives him a menacing look. He can’t help but think he appears rather stupid, instead.
“Huh? What’s it got to do with you, punk? You’re a stranger, move along!” He snarls, trying to get past him. Giyuu blocks him with his body, keeping Shinobu behind him.
“No.”
“What did you say?”
“No.” He repeats, then quickly adds to his words before the man can say anything else. “…She’s my neighbor.”
The man scoffs. “So what? Just go on your way, seriously. I was just asking her for some directions.”
The other is not too pleased about his current situation, and he takes a stride closer to Giyuu. He does not blink, nor does he let himself waver. He is the surface of water, perpetually still and calm. He will not let any ripples or waves form, and so he remains still, and his emotions are like an unmoving sea. This is the way of the water.
“Move it, kid.” An arm is raised, about to strike him. Giyuu is faster, however, and he grabs it before he can be hurt.
“No,” he says once again. “ You move. You’re causing a disturbance.”
The man looks at him with rage, but he begins to whine and complain as he feels the grip on his arm tightening. Giyuu tries not to put too much strength into his hands— he considers himself to already be substantially weaker than he was in his prime, yet the man was still yelping in pain. How pathetic. For someone this weak to pick on others as if they were the strongest in the ring.
“Leave,” Giyuu’s tone is even as he fishes out his smartphone from his pocket. “Or I’ll call the police and report you for stalking. I’m sure there are security cameras around the corner where you came from.”
“Tch. You were just trying to make a fool of me, you brat.” The man makes one last jab at Shinobu before spitting on the ground and walking away from them.
Giyuu waits til he leaves the vicinity.
“Thank you. I don’t know if he would’ve left me alone if you hadn’t intervened.”
All of a sudden, he begins to panic again. He can’t be here. He needs to get away from her.
“You should go home now.” He doesn’t bother turning around to look at her.
He waits to hear footsteps walking away, but a minute passes and it’s still silent behind him. Maybe she left already. Maybe she’s just really quiet. She did have a habit of sneaking up behind people back then, after all. Was it worth it to take the risk and check if she left?
He takes the slightest peek.
She’s standing right behind him, just as he left her. Wide purple eyes stare at him— not with confusion, or admiration, or any emotion, really— she’s just staring.
She doesn’t miss the way they meet eyes for only a split second, either. “Are you waiting for the bus? I’ll wait with you.”
“No, you don’t have to…”
“I insist. Think of it as me paying you back.”
“You can pay me back by getting home safely.”
“Hmm…” He finds her staring at him again, this time more intently. There’s a familiar feeling of exasperation, the same as when she would tease him for being ‘disliked by everybody’ whenever he would talk back to her, or just poke fun at him for no reason.
“You must be really disliked by people.”
Giyuu turns back to return her blank stare. She doesn’t have the same butterfly pin anymore, but rather a bow that held her familiar violet-tinged hair up. She still has the same sweet smile, but this time he can tell it is genuine, rather than anger deeply concealed below her cheery demeanor. Her pallor is just as poor as he remembered it to be.
However, he remembers that at this age, Shinobu was rather brazen and bold with her voice. To see her smiling this widely relieves him, yet it also puts a sense of uneasiness within his stomach.
“I guess this is why people dislike you, Tomioka-san.”
“Kocho. I am not disliked by people.”
She simply smiles at him as if she had not just insulted him a few seconds ago. But it doesn’t annoy him terribly this time, rather it brings him a sense of familiarity.
“I am not disliked by people.”
He hears her laugh. How long has it been since she’s laughed like that while he was around? “Sure, sure. What’s your name? I’m Kocho Shinobu, from Kimetsu Middle School Academy.”
“Tomioka Giyuu. I’m… from Nogata.” He really shouldn’t be telling her this, but she won’t back off, either. Though he could ignore her like he did before, he had to remind himself that this Kocho wouldn’t understand him like the other one did.
“Nogata? In Fukuoka?”
“In Nakano City.”
“How come you’re here, then?”
She still seems to be a chatterbox in this life, as well. Truthfully, it doesn’t bother him as much as it did before— He was glad to have a familiar face around. “I went to Asakusa to visit an acquaintance. There were issues with the bus times, so I came to wait here.”
“Ah, I see… I’m not sure why you’d come from Asakusa to wait here, either. Each to their own, I guess.” Shinobu slides to stand next to him, not letting him escape her gaze. She was awfully curious about a stranger she just met.
He sighs. “Well, what about you? What did you do to get chased by a grown man like that?”
“You must’ve heard— I gave him directions, but when I was about to leave, he tried to grab me.” She shrugs, as if it was that simple, and she wasn’t about to punch the man like a ticking time bomb. “Why’d you help me? You seem like the type to be a bystander.”
Another jab at him. He is holding in the biggest sigh of his life right now.
“… Wherever you go, there will be demons in this world. I cannot just stand by and watch creatures like that prey over somebody.”
“You’d do the same, no?” He finally meets her gaze evenly. The same, deep purple eyes that used to pierce into his skin whenever he stood next to her. Was that anger in her expression, or was he imagining it?
Shinobu has a slightly judgmental look in her eyes, but she nods nevertheless. “My, my, Tomioka-san. You really are a strange person.”
“… I could say the same for you, Kocho.”