#tomioka giyu

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part 1

Kimetsu no Yaiba | Kochou Shinobu, Tomioka Giyu | AO3
Summary: After a period of exceptionally grueling work, Oyakata-sama’s next orders for the Insect Pillar and Water Pillar are to take a break. Even so, Pillars are never completely idle. Shinobu is to turn her attention to other matters, like medicine and her tsuguko, while Giyu is instructed to sojourn at the Butterfly Mansion for its restful environment and assist as needed.Time passes, respite is had, and various things are learned—and change. (Alternatively: Ubuyashiki Kagaya plays matchmaker.)
Notes: Can’t believe that in the time it took me to finally wrap this up (I got super stuck at the ending scene/s) the manga ended. Dude.
I recommend reading on AO3, because this is like 15.5k words. :’)

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Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.

I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn’t expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring—

afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy

in the raw wind of the new world.

—Snowdrops, by Louise Glück

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“Shinobu,” Oyakata-sama says, as she rises to leave the Ubuyashiki mansion after giving her report. “Please stay awhile.”

Shinobu blinks at him, curious, but sits back down, folding her hands on her lap. She waits for him to say something, but the Master only smiles faintly and sits in silence, waiting, so Shinobu turns to watch the butterflies flit around in his immaculate garden.

A few moments later, the door slides open, and Tomioka Giyu steps in, balancing a tray of teacups and a teapot. He pauses and blinks when he sees that Shinobu is there, and they both incline their heads in greeting, though they are both surprised at each other’s presence. Giyu had expected someone else to show, having been requested to bring an extra cup, but he’d thought it would be one of the Ubuyashiki  children or his wife.

Oyakata-sama smiles, sensing the emotion in the room.

“Thank you, Giyu,” he says. “It has been awhile since I’ve had your tea. I’ve missed it.”  

The Water Pillar says nothing, but makes his way over and sits down next to Shinobu in front of the Master. He pours him tea first, the action simple yet beautiful, not a single movement wasted. Then he pours another cup the same way, and hands it to Shinobu. She blinks, surprised again, but takes it. Giyu pours himself a cup last, and the three sit in silence as they sip at their tea.

For the third time Shinobu is surprised as she drinks. The tea is…excellent. Hot, but not so much as to ruin the integrity of the tea leaves, and steeped for just the right amount of time to release its strong, earthy flavor without a hint of bitterness or astringency.

Oyakata-sama lowers his cup, cradling it in his hands as he smiles again.

“I had the two of you convene here for the same reason, more or less,” he says. “I’d like the two of you to take a break for a short while.”

Both Giyu and Shinobu’s heads snap to attention, eyes widening in surprise.

“A break?” Shinobu echoes, incredulous.

“Forgive me,” Giyu says, his tone grave, his hands gripping his cup with more force than before, “But I do not think we can afford that.”

“Peace, both of you,” Oyakata-sama says gently. “I do not mean you are suspended from duties. I only ask that you turn your attentions elsewhere for a time. The both of you have been out on several missions, one after the other, without rest. Shinobu—while you are home, I ask that you check up on our medicine stock, and continue to train your tsuguko. She is close enough to a Pillar already, but still requires guidance.”

Shinobu bows her head in acknowledgement.

“Giyu. You in particular have been taking on more missions, no matter the how big or small, no matter the distance. It is time for you to rest. If Shinobu allows it, I’d like you to sojourn at the Butterfly Mansion. The environment will be more beneficial to you there, and perhaps you can lend your aid to Shinobu and her tsuguko, if you must have something to do.”

He looks at Shinobu then, who blinks but then smiles before turning to Giyu.

“I will of course be happy to host Tomioka-san,” she says, and the Water Pillar looks between them with a bit of a bewildered expression. But there is no argument to be had here, especially not in front of the Master, and so he bows in acknowledgement as well.

Oyakata-sama smiles, and finishes the rest of his tea as Amane comes into the room.

“Forgive me. There is something I must take care of, so I will take my leave here. Please, take your time to finish up. Starting now, you are on break, after all.”

He takes his wife’s hand and walks out of the room with her. The sliding door closes softly behind them, and Shinobu sips at her tea again. After a moment, she rises and makes her way over to the engawa, bringing the teapot with her. She tilts her head to motion for Giyu to join her, and also to bring the tray.

“It would be a shame to waste such good tea,” she says, “but there’s no use in staring at the spot Oyakata-sama sits if he’s not there.”

Giyu’s expression doesn’t change at her comment, but he does lift the tray and join her to face the garden. If Oyakata-sama were to walk back in, it would just seem like someone had taken a snapshot of before and rotated it; they sit the same distance apart with the tea-ware placed between them.

Shinobu reaches over to refill Giyu’s cup and then her own; her movements aren’t as elegant, but she’s no stranger to tea ceremony either. Giyu nods in thanks, and the two sit in silence for a while as they watch the butterflies flutter around in Oyakata-sama’s garden.

“Does it make you nervous, that you’ll be spending time at my home?” Shinobu asks, when they’ve finished half the pot of tea.

Giyu glances at her, and she is smiling at him, her expression teasing.

“No,” he says, his brow furrowing a bit in confusion. “I’ve been there before.”

She laughs. It’s true, he has been there—as a patient, for short amounts of time. He’s missing the point of her question—half asked teasingly, but also half asked seriously.

“Ah, never mind. Well—I’ll put you to work eventually since Oyakata-sama suggested it, Tomioka-san, so be prepared. But you’ll have some proper respite first.”

He raises an eyebrow at her then shrugs, not entirely sure what she’s getting at. In a way, he thinks of it as another mission. If he’s not going to be allowed to hunt for demons, then he doesn’t mind being put to work at the Butterfly Estate…within reason. He is, perhaps, just a bit wary of what Shinobu is considering appropriate work for him, and gives her a suspicious look as he reaches for the teapot again.

She covers her mouth with one hand, the corners of her eyes turning up, as she holds out her cup. As he pours her the last full round, her smile slips from her eyes as she watches him carefully. Giyu glances at her but she doesn’t notice—despite the fact that she’s focused on him, she doesn’t meet his eyes. Shinobu stares at the tea in her cup for a moment before drinking, then finally looks at him.

“…Tomioka-san, have you done tea ceremony before?” Shinobu asks, turning her cup in her hands, and Giyu tilts his head at her.

“No,” he says, after a moment. “Such things would have been wasted on me. But I did watch the classes, on occasion.”

He says it in a blasé manner, not at all bitter or self-deriding. Just matter of fact. A poor orphan boy had no place in the world of classical refinement. 

Shinobu’s eyes are downcast as she tilts her cup this way and that, watching the liquid move inside. 

“The arts are never wasted on anyone,” she says after a long while. It’s long enough that he’s nearly forgotten about what they were talking about. “Regardless. Your movements…are exceedingly beautiful.” 

He blinks at her in surprise, and she drinks the last of her tea. Before she places the cup down, he watches her more closely as she does so—the placement of her hands on the ceramic, the tilt of her head, the curve of her neck, the precision of her swallow. 

She rises to leave, but she stops just shy of the door to turn back to him.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then,” she says, her tone light. “Good day, Tomioka-san.”

The room is quiet after she leaves.

Giyu turns back to his own tea, taking his time with the rest of it. Shinobu’s words run through his mind—your movements are exceedingly beautiful—and he’s unsure of just what it is he feels. He was never particularly ashamed of his poor status, even if he was shamed for it in his youth sometimes. He and Tsutako had been happy. Tea was just…something he had happened to focus on. It was an everyday drink, commonplace, and so he had been curious about how such a simple thing became an art of the nobility. There was something fascinating about the classes that he had been able to peek into, and after that he couldn’t help but pay more attention to tea. But it was never a serious study, and nothing he thought would ever accumulate to anything.

He drips out the last few dregs of the tea in the pot. As he lifts his cup to his lips, he thinks of Shinobu again, the straightness of her posture, the lift of her arms, the tranquil beauty of the action—all in response to the drink he had served her. Giyu supposes this feeling is something like when Urokodaki-sensei approved of his form—pride, except quieter, gentler. A pleasant acknowledgement of a skill he didn’t think meant anything to anyone but him—and even then, it meant something only in a vague manner. 

He thinks of Shinobu, her form, and her words, and thinks with a soft snort that it’s not him who should be described as such.  

Giyu smiles in quiet satisfaction anyway. 

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Giyu is a man of routine, and so despite his temporary stay at the Butterfly Estate, he continues to follow one. The staff is quick to accommodate him, as if they are used to such a thing; in the mornings, he washes his face and has breakfast, which consists of rice, miso soup, picked vegetables, and grilled fish. On occasion the protein or vegetable changes according to the chef, which is nice since he doesn’t have to decide for himself. After that, he spends the rest of the morning warming up and working through simple sword exercises. Afterwards, he meditates for a while, then goes into more intensive training involving his Breath, reviewing what he already knows and also casually working on another new form. Once that’s finished, he spends time carefully cleaning his sword, and takes a bath before dinner. 

To be honest, because his time is mostly taken up by missions and anything the Demon Slayer Corps requires, complete leisure time for him is rare, and he thus doesn’t know quite to do with the freedom. He figures that if he has the extra time, he might as well spend it training. A Demon Slayer can never be too prepared, after all. 

This self-created schedule lasts for about four days until Shinobu gets wind of it. He hasn’t seen very much of her since his initial tour of the place, but she appears like a ghost during one of his training sessions. As he spins during one of the forms, his sword clashes against Shinobu’s, who is suddenly there and smiling. She leaps back, and aims for him again, and he raises an eyebrow before blocking. 

She’s an interesting one to spar with since her attacks rely on piercing; a bout will generally turn into her moving on the offensive with the other party on the defensive. It’s difficult to reverse the roles, since putting her on the defensive means having her put her evasive skills to use, considering her sword isn’t made to clash in the traditional way. But to reverse the roles also means to turn the session into a game of tag—she’s very quick and flexible, which makes for an exhausting chase. It’s not often Shinobu will spar with others, nor is she usually requested to—she has ways to keep it fresh, but she’d rather spend that time on her tsuguko if she’s going to come up with something of a training program to do so.

Giyu, on the other hand, finds it rather refreshing. There is never a reason for Shinobu to spar because of her style of Breath. But that makes it all the more interesting when she does, regardless of which way the tide of the session turns. 

“Good morning, Tomioka-san,” Shinobu greets, as she flips over him. “Say, don’t you do anything other than train? You do realize Oyakata-sama had you take a break so you wouldn’t overwork yourself, right?”

Giyu swings his sword to deflect her next thrust. 

“He never said I couldn’t train. Training is not overworking.”

She chuckles softly. 

“Tomioka-san, don’t you have any hobbies?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t have time for hobbies, Kochou.”

“Oh, my. That’s…sad. Nothing? Nothing at all besides sword training?” 

He looks up at her as she sails over him again, and in the brief glimpse he catches of her face, she does genuinely seem a bit sad at his remark. He doesn’t have time to consider that though as he twists out of the way before she descends, sword first. 

“There are more important things to worry about than hobbies,” he says, after a pause, and she laughs. 

“Yes, like finding you one, and getting you to relax. Ahhh-ah, this was why Oyakata-sama had you take your break here, isn’t it?”

Giyu says nothing to that. He confesses that he wasn't—isn't—sure of the Master’s motives in having him under Shinobu’s care, although it seems like she does. It’s comfortable here, but her home isn’t an inn—it’s a place of both work and living, and it seems like there’s more behind the Master’s reasoning than providing him comfortable quarters that are certainly an upgrade to his tiny, sparse, one-room abode. He blinks at Shinobu, who gives him a somewhat pitying look before sheathing her sword. 

“Goodness,” she says, with a shake of her head. “Finish up your training if you must, since you’re so serious about it. But clean up and meet me in the Flower Room in say…about an hour or so? Ah, Aoi!” Shinobu calls to a young girl who is carrying a basket of laundry to be hung. “Could you direct Tomioka-san to where he can wash up and then to the Flower Room, after he’s done?”

Aoi nods, then turns to Giyu, her manner serious.

“I’ll just be over there,” she says, gesturing to the drying lines a little ways off with her chin. “Please come get me once you’re finished.” 

“Thank you, Aoi,” Shinobu says, and the girl gives her a small smile before bowing and walking away. “Don’t forget, Tomioka-san,” Shinobu says pointedly, before she leaves as well. 

Giyu watches her go, realizing too late that he hadn’t spoken up to ask why he needs to meet her in this so called Flower Room. He could ignore her and go about his training. 

…His skin prickles the moment he thinks that. That might make her angry, and somehow…his gut tells him that he should avoid doing so. 

He lifts his sword, about to go through the cool-down movements, then pauses. He knows, suddenly, that once he goes to meet her, it’s the end of this routine he’s set for himself. He can admit that perhaps how he spends his days might be a little stiff. But Shinobu is already taking control, and he doesn’t know what that means for him yet. As he goes through the first form, he goes through it extra slowly, aware that it’ll be the last time in a while that he’ll be able to do it like so. 

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The Flower Room turns out to be a reception room, and the reason for its name is self-explanatory. A very traditional ikebana arrangement adorns the tokonoma, and when Giyu arrives, Shinobu is kneeling in front of an array of flowers lying on a cloth and two simple, dark vases. She smiles when he comes in, and gestures for him to sit. 

“Have you ever done ikebana before, Tomioka-san?” she asks. A part of him wants to say yes, just to see surprise flicker across her face. But of course the answer is no, and he raises and eyebrow at her for asking such a question when she must know the answer. She shrugs lightly, then picks up a calla lily by the stem, turning it to inspect the bloom. “Kanae and I were learning together,” she says absently. “To be more desirable marriage candidates. Though Kanae loved the arts of refinement better than I did, and…none of that matters now.”

Her voice is light and empty, and Giyu says nothing.

He stares at the flowers in front of them—there are a few he recognizes by name, a few he recognizes by look, and a few he doesn’t recognize at all. Shinobu snips the end of the lily’s stem and puts it in one of the vases.

Giyu lifts one of the stalks of blue flowers that he doesn’t recognize, turning it this way and that. He wonders if this is a test of some kind; she hasn’t said anything, but it’s evident that he’s also supposed to arrange one.

“Do you want it to matter?” he asks belatedly. Kanae is dead and that future is no longer possible for her. But Shinobu is still alive, and so…

She’s quiet, choosing between two leafy stems.

“I’m not sure,” she says finally, putting one of the stalks into the vase with the lily. Giyu watches her, taking note of what she’s putting together. “That life and this one seem so very different, now. As if I were a different person. The social circles too are very different.”

Her face clouds.

“There are more important things,” Giyu says, the words awkward in his mouth.

Shinobu half-smiles.

“Indeed. And yet I’m incapable of throwing away the past entirely.”

Her eyes are faraway, and Giyu gives her one last look as he begins choosing his flowers. He takes the blue flowers, a cluster of small yellow ones, and a couple long stems of leaves. He has no idea what he’s doing, but he thinks he knows the theory of it at least from observing her—just a little. He continues to watch Shinobu as she selects her pieces, snipping off the end, and arranging them with practiced precision.

In the end, hers is very refined, his is very amateur, and really, what else was there to expect?

Shinobu looks like she wants to laugh, and Giyu gives her an exasperated look.

“Did you get what you wanted?” he says, somewhat irritably.

“You do have a nice eye for aesthetics, Tomioka-san,” Shinobu says, and though she’s amused, she’s not mocking him. “The arrangement itself is just another skill to be learned.”

He raises an eyebrow at her.

It feels like he’s missing something, but can’t place what. There's…something curious about the way her skills in these arts are so refined, even after all these years. She’s still practiced—still practicing, still learning. It’s not just that she hasn’t left them behind.

“Kochou.”

She stills at his tone, the bit of amusement fading from her face. He’s not even sure what he wants to say, and takes a moment to try and consider the words he wants to use.

“You haven’t given up,” he says carefully. He open his mouth to continue, but can’t find the words, and shuts it again.

“I suppose not,” Shinobu murmurs. 

“…Why?” Giyu asks. He furrows his brows. “Do you have a suitor?”

She barks out a laugh. 

“A suitor! In these times? No so-called respectable man who cared about their bride having these skills would marry a woman who also carried a sword.”

His brows furrow deeper. “What’s wrong with a woman carrying a sword?”

She smiles.

“I knew I liked you for a reason, Tomioka-san.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I thought you said I was hated.”

“Oh, but you are.”

“Then what is that supposed to mean?”

“That just because you’re hated doesn’t mean you don’t have non-hateable qualities.”

Giyu sighs, open his mouth to respond, then closes it again, pinching his temple. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get wholly used to Shinobu’s exhausting verbal acrobatics.

But. He’s not an amateur at them, either. 

“Then are you the suitor, instead?” he says, exasperated, returning them to the original subject.

Shinobu inspects one of the blooms that didn’t make it into her vase, positioning the shears quite close to the head of the flower. 

“The same applies,” she says, voice flat, closing the shears. The flower falls from the stem. “I’m not the one…suitable.”

She seems—transparent, then, as if she’s not really there.

“Kochou,” Giyu says again, this time more sharply, and she looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not your sister.”

She blinks at him slowly then smiles, though it is an expression tinged with darkness. 

“Yes. You’re right.” She says, as if she is affirming it more for herself than him. The admission doesn’t reassure him. If anything, it makes him more uneasy. 

She waves him off for dinner after that. It’s a dismissal, and so he doesn’t offer to help with the clean-up, glancing at her one last time. She’s smiling the way she usually does when he slides the door closed.

It’s a few days before he thinks about what became of the arrangements. He peeks into the Flower Room and sees that it’s his arrangement that adorns the tokonoma. Shinobu’s arrangement is nowhere to be seen—though if it adorns a different room, he doesn’t know. 

He doesn’t know what this is supposed to mean.

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After that, Shinobu puts him to work as promised. He’s allowed his daily morning routine, including his sword practice, but he is no longer only practicing the sword all day. He joins Shinobu in her workshop, as she calls it, as something of an assistant. The three young girls—Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho—are also in and out, fetching bundles of herbs and other supplies. Aoi also appears every now and then, cutting bandages with high speed and efficiency, bringing dirty and clean ones back and forth.

Giyu is assigned the manual labor—he strips stems and branches of leaves and flowers, hangs fresh ones for drying, grinds or mixes according to instruction. Anything complicated Shinobu does herself, and by the end of the first day, he feels like he could make a simple poultice alone. Shinobu is a tough and extremely detail-oriented taskmaster, but also a very fair one. It’s hard not to learn something under her tutelage and not have respect for one such as her. 

She doesn’t make much conversation during these hours, being as focused as she is, and Giyu doesn’t offer any if she doesn’t, being as quiet as he is usually. So instead, he watches out of the corner of his eye as they carry out their tasks. She might be taking a break from demon-hunting duties, but Shinobu and her household are busy. Giyu is not at all bothered about being a part of that busyness—it suits him better—but nor did he expect this, either. 

In a way, it’s a little like training in the Breath of Water. The movements are a lot about efficiency, and it is the same in Shinobu’s workshop. It’s easy for Giyu to throw himself into this routine, and the poultices and compresses and medicines stack up at a satisfying pace. 

When Shinobu puts a hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t startle, but he does blink up at her in surprise. She blinks back, then smiles, tugging him from his seat.

“We need a break from this too,” she says. “Let’s get something to eat first.”

Over onigiri and tea, Shinobu tilts her head at him and asks, “Do you play shogi, Tomioka-san?” 

“It has been awhile,” he says as he picks up another onigiri. He pauses, then flicks his gaze up to meet her eyes. “Yes, I will play.”

She smiles, and he wonders briefly if she’s going to say I didn’t ask if you would just to spite him. She doesn’t though, only inclines her head and refills his teacup. 

The board and pieces are already there when Shinobu leads him to a different room. They set up the pieces on the board, and Shinobu gestures that he should do the piece toss. He shrugs and complies—he plays first, and Shinobu second. 

It’s quiet for a while, save for the snap of the pieces on the board. 

It’s interesting, to be playing shogi against Shinobu. There are occasions where, at the Pillar meetings, the board will be brought out to lay down basic tactics, or to illustrate certain ones. The pieces are inadequate to properly represent the abilities of the Demon Slayers, nor are they mere pieces on a board, but the game is helpful to a degree. Gyomei and Kyojuro are exceptionally good players, Tengen and Obanai are not bad, and Sanemi, Mitsuri, and Muichiro are either not good or simply don’t care for it at all. Giyu is with Tengen and Obanai, though he tends not to play during the meetings, and Shinobu says her skill level is also of that group, but she never actually plays during the meetings. She glances at the board every now and then to see the flow of the game, but she does not make suggestions of moves, and she never sits at the board. 

Playing against her, Giyu begins to see why. 

Her play style isn’t constructive for what the Pillar meetings are about. She is calculating, but also aggressive and ruthless. Giyu raises an eyebrow when he notices this; it seems very much in contrast with the healing that she does. But he says nothing, and finishes the game. She wins this one; they play another match, he wins that one. Neither of them care to play a third as a tie breaker.

“You should slow down,” he says, as they pack up the board. She’s not exactly reckless, but her method seems to rely on moving quickly, perhaps too quickly.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she says easily, not looking at him as she slides the pieces into their pouch. 

The problem is—her strategy isn’t even bad, in terms of the game. It’s just—worrisome. 

She glances at him, pulling on the strings of the pouch to close it. 

“When do you think you’ll die, Tomioka-san?”

The side of his mouth quirks up. It would be a morbid question, a cruel question, if death weren’t such a regular part of their lives as Demon Slayers. He thought he’d die four times before—the first time, when the demon attacked before Tsutako’s wedding, the second, when he realized he’d survived without her, the third, on the Wisteria Mountain during the Final Selection, and fourth, after he made it out without Sabito. Looking back, that he had overcome such deep pits of despair in rapid succession is something of a miracle. And now…

“Twenty-five, I suppose,” he says. “Not many Demon Slayers last beyond that. Perhaps twenty-six, if I’m lucky.” 

Shinobu nods sagely. 

“I don’t think I’ll live past twenty-one,” she says. “Even now, it feels like my time is running out. And there is so much to do…that I have to do before I die, don’t you see? I can’t afford to slow down.”

Giyu blinks at her. Twenty-one, she says. That’s how old he is. She’s younger than him by three years and already she doesn’t plan to outlive him. 

Such a thing isn’t unusual. And yet, it is still sad. 

“Oyakata-sama said to rest,” Giyu says slowly. “The order wasn’t just for me.” 

“I am resting,” Shinobu says blandly. “I know my limits, I know what my body needs. But there are things that must be done. I can make bandages and poultices in my sleep. Teaching is not always physically taxing, and it’s more important than ever for all and any knowledge to be passed on. As Pillars, we must support. Isn’t that what you said?”

He can’t deny it. 

She stares at him, her hands folded in her lap, perfectly poised. 

“Do you have dreams, Shinobu?” he asks.

She shrugs.

“To kill the demon that killed my sister.”

It’s not quite a dream, and both of them know that. 

“And you?” she asks.

“No, not really,” he says. He has a certain conviction to keep living and fighting for the present, not a dream. 

Shinobu reaches into the pouch to take the king piece back out, considering it between her fingers. After a moment, she places it on the board, the snap crisp and loud in the silence between them. 

In the end, they’re the same. They live for the Demon Slaying Corps, after having the things—people—they care most about taken from them. They’ll provide support as Pillars until their last breath with all that they have. There is no future beyond this. They go about their lives, doing what they can, waiting for the final checkmate. 

“Is that sad?” Shinobu asks, a bit wistfully.

“…Does it make a difference, if it is or not?” Giyu replies.

Shinobu laughs. 

“No,” she says. “No, it doesn’t.”

She rises from sitting, motioning to Giyu with her head.

“Enough of this. Back to work, then, come on.”

He rises and follows after her. They leave the room together, neither looking back at the lone king on the board. 

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Despite the days he’s passed at the Butterfly Mansion, Giyu has not seen much of Shinobu’s (somewhat) famed tsuguko. He was introduced of course, in the beginning. The both of them had inclined their heads silently, and that was the end of that. Shinobu was the one who had done the speaking and looked amused at the lack of interaction, saying that both of them were similar in this regard. 

Tsuyuri Kanao is small and petite like Shinobu, though slightly taller and less slender. She defers utterly to orders and particularly to her sister. Giyu thinks that such obedience will be problematic, but he also knows that such a thing is stemming from an unfortunate past. It’s not his place to comment on such a thing, and is confident that Shinobu, as her sister and mentor, is already taking the steps to mitigate the issue. 

In any case, he doesn’t see much of her around the mansion, whether that is because she has been out on missions or because she keeps to herself or because their paths simply have no cause to cross he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t think about her since there’s no reason to. That’s why it is a bit of a surprise when he goes to the back of the house for his morning training and finds both Shinobu and Kanao there waiting for him. 

“Good morning, Tomioka-san,” Shinobu chirps, and Kanao bows her head in greeting. “A lovely day, isn’t it?”

Giyu raises an eyebrow. 

“I suppose it is.”

“Training by yourself on such a day seems like waste, doesn’t it? Thankfully, Kanao’s come back from her mission and could use a partner. And who better than the Water Pillar?”

Ah. He knows what she’s getting at. Oyakata-sama had mentioned this, that he should help with Shinobu’s tsuguko. With the Flower Breath derived from the Water Breath, he’d be one of the best suited to advancing the Flower Breath’s techniques. 

Kanao’s eyes, however, dart quickly between Giyu and Shinobu, lingering a moment on Shinobu, before resting on the ground. 

Giyu is…not good at this, this…navigation of interpersonal relationships. He’s aware that he needs to be careful, in some regard. He’s just not sure how, exactly, he’s supposed to go about that. 

“And you?” Giyu asks, turning to Shinobu.

Kanao’s eyes flick back up, and Shinobu blinks before smiling.

“Oh, my. Did the both of you think I’d just up and leave you to yourselves right off the bat?" 

Giyu gives her a look that says yes, absolutely, while Kanao looks embarrassed. 

Shinobu laughs. "How mean! This is a team effort, you know. And Kanao is my tsuguko." 

She pats Kanao’s head, who looks relieved.

"There will be sessions where I’ll have you train only with Tomioka-san, Kanao, but not quite yet. However, it will be helpful for me to see the two of your cross swords first, so please do.”

She gestures that Giyu and Kanao should take the space, and so they take their places. As the senior, Giyu makes the first move—Kanao counters his strike easily, and the bout is fairly plain and standard while they warm up and get used to each other’s movements. Shinobu watches intently—the Breath of Water is one of, if not the most, versatile of Breaths, while the Breath of Flower is more unique and restricted as its derivative; it was Kanae’s Breath, one that she developed to be a bit more defensive, yet also a bit more disarming. With her sister gone, Shinobu had helped Kanao continue to practice it, and in their combined hands it had become a bit more aggressive, a bit more calculating. 

It would have been the Breath Shinobu wielded, if she were capable of decapitating a demon. 

Nevertheless.

As the two Demon Slayers begin incorporating their Breath styles into their regimen, Shinobu watches a little longer before she draws her own sword and floats into the fray. 

“Kanao,“ she says serenely, as she dances in between both blades, "Remember, you’re sensing and seeing.”

“Yes, Master,” Kanao responds, and her gaze sharpens as Shinobu dives in. Giyu raises an eyebrow, but moves to support her, jumping and aiming an overhead blow on Kanao. For a moment, Giyu thinks that they’ll both end up hitting her, but the sound of the younger girl’s breathing changes, and she deflects Shinobu’s sword with a grunt before doing the same to Giyu’s. Shinobu smiles, but then lunges again, and Kanao’s eyes widen before she hastily blocks the attack with clumsy movements. 

Shinobu doesn’t let her tsuguko rest. Kanao whirls and twists to push Shinobu back, and Giyu tries not to be mesmerized by their training to be able to do his own part—this is all a rare sight. Though he’s never taught anyone, he doesn’t fancy himself a proper teacher, but Shinobu knows exactly what to focus on, and exactly what she’s doing. She flashes him a grin through the chaos, tilting her head to point out Kanao’s present weak spot, also indicating that he should go after it. 

No mercy.

But he obliges—it’s actually reminiscent of Urokodaki’s sessions. By the time she finally calls an end to the session, Kanao is wobbling on her feet. Shinobu moves to her side to support her sister, tilting up her chin a little.

"Breathe, now,” she says gently, and Giyu raises an eyebrow. That kind of statement is never innocuous to Demon Slayers. Even in the wind-down, Kanao is still training, though she seems very used to it all and does the Breathing exercise with ease. 

She’s truly on the cusp of being a Pillar, Giyu thinks. The only thing she’s really missing is the demon kills under her belt. Shinobu’s tactics are grueling, but not for lack of reason. He thinks that if she should ever choose to retire instead of losing her life on the battlefield, she’d make an excellent Cultivator. 

It’ll never happen, of course. The thought…saddens him, unexpectedly. 

Shinobu glances at him sidelong as she sends Kanao off to the baths to relax.

“She might as well be a Pillar,” Giyu says, as she moves to his side and they both watch Kanao walk away. 

“She’s done well,” Shinobu says noncommittally, and Giyu looks at her. She looks back. “But she’s still…too formulaic. She has to be able to hold onto her sword and skill under any circumstance, even when it deviates from prediction. Especially when it deviates." 

Giyu furrows her brows.

"What are you preparing her for?”

Shinobu’s eyes glaze over.

“Everything. Anything I can. It’ll…never be enough. But when the time comes, it could matter just enough, in that moment.”

Giyu thinks about the Pillars that have been lost before them. Pillars are considered the strongest Demon Slayers among the Corps, and yet they are still cut down easily by demons. Giyu thinks about the other girls in Shinobu’s household, none of whom are active members of the Corps, though they do provide support in various ways.

“How many tsuguko have you had?” he asks, his tone solemn, and Shinobu’s expression hardens. 

“Three,” she says, her voice emotionless. She doesn’t say anything else, and Giyu has nothing to say in response. 

They stand in silence for a moment before Shinobu gives herself a little shake and smiles one of her faint smiles.

“I think you and Kanao will get along,” she says. 

He frowns at her, hearing what she’s not saying. Take care of her. He doesn’t know if he hears “help me take care of her.”

“She’s your tsuguko,” he says, almost petulantly, and Shinobu laughs.

“Yes, then you’ll get along just fine.”

He narrows his eyes, but she merely gives him a passive, bland smile and walks away.

.

It becomes a routine.

Shinobu leads and directs the trainings for a couple weeks before pharmaceutical work pulls her away again. While Kanao is her tsuguko, she’s not the only one that Shinobu needs to train.

By that time, Giyu and Kanao are comfortable enough with each other that the latter is less wary and more relaxed around him. 

“You’re stiff,” Giyu says, as he swings his sword. Kanao side-steps and tries the move again.

“Better,” Giyu nods. 

Kanao flows into the next form, and Giyu watches closely as she makes adjustments according to his instruction. 

It’s not easy. Giyu is not teaching her the Breath of Water, he is teaching her how to incorporate parts of it into her own Breath. He cannot just use the methods that Urokodaki-sensei had applied, he must adjust them. He’s also not good at explaining in general, though thankfully, Kanao understands him well enough. 

She is, however, an obedient student—perhaps too obedient. Therein lies the problem, if she wants to advance her Breath by herself down the line. And there will only be so far that he can guide her, same as Shinobu. 

It is curious, though. For a girl without much will of her own, she tries incredibly hard under tutelage. It’s not just obedience; there is determination there, too. Giyu makes no comment on it yet, just observes.

Her movements are indeed reminiscent of Kochou Kanae’s—though Giyu did not know her well, there was a brief period of overlap where they were Pillars together. She had been kind to everyone, could temper even Shinazugawa Sanemi’s abrasive personality, and she could be aptly described by the Breath she wielded. Knowing what to look for makes it easy to see who trained Kanao—though now, with Shinobu’s influence, he can see where the style diverges.

The sounds of their swords clashing fill the air, and Giyu finds this surprisingly peaceful. It almost feels like being back on the mountain. Ultimately, the truth is that there there’s relief in this, doing something he knows and knows well, and the fact that this will help keep someone, even if it’s only one person, alive. Suddenly he understands why Shinobu is so relentless with Kanao, and Kanao…

He dodges her attack, but then she digs in her heel and spins so quickly he would’ve missed it had he blinked, whipping her sword around. He flings up his sword to block, surprised at the amount of strength behind it as she presses down. Even as he is thinking this, pushing back, Kanao sucks in a breath and adjusts her angle, flipping upwards and coming at him from the side. Giyu side-steps, but she twists, performing eight blows in the span of a few seconds.  

He smiles, just a little.

He too sucks in a breath, countering her strikes smoothly, and her eyebrow twitches, as if she is annoyed.

And so they continue. She whirls and spins and flips, a regular acrobat, while Giyu stands his ground and diverts her attacks without much movement. But it isn’t that her moves are inefficient use of energy—while there are adjustments that she can make, he can see where they fuel her attack.

Eventually, he calls an end to today’s session, and she’s breathing hard as she lowers her sword.

“Is there somewhere you want to be?” he asks her, and she blinks up at him. He thinks on his own words, realizing how vague they are, and tries to rephrase. “In your swordsmanship, I mean.”

Kanao is quiet for a long while as they move through their cooldown exercises. He thinks that perhaps she won’t answer him, and notes to try again some other time.

But the words do come out, if haltingly.

“Master teaches me a lot of things,” she says softly. “I want to learn all of them, because she is teaching me.”

Though it doesn’t explain much, it’s very articulate, and Giyu understands.

“I see,” he says. And he does. The determination that follows her obedience—it is a decision, to follow. Shinobu has Kanao’s best interests at heart, and Kanao knows this with absolute certainty. With all the time, care, and effort that Shinobu puts into her training—how can Kanao not reciprocate all that with her undivided attention and hard work?

They may not have had the same circumstances, but after Giyu lost Tsutako—he too was an orphan, picked up by Urokodaki, and he too gave his all underneath the man’s tutelage for the same reasons.

Kanao offers a small smile, and Giyu nods.

“You are helping,” she says, and he inclines his head.

“Yes,” he says.

“It’s good,” Kanao continues. “Master needs it.”

She walks away after that, having completed the exercises, and Giyu stares after her, wondering what it is exactly that she’s referencing.

.

Some days later, after a session where all three of them have been present, they sit in the garden. They’ve all had their post-training bath, and Shinobu is brushing out Kanao’s hair as she debriefs them on the status of everything else that has been happening while they’ve been on “break.”

“Upper Moons have been spotted,” Shinobu says gravely, “Though they haven’t engaged the Corps very much. Waiting for stronger opponents, it seems, though they have killed some in order to feed. It’s…both concerning and relieving, that we haven’t lost as many to them. But the other demons still continue their infestation.”

Despite it all, Oyakata-sama has still maintained his order that Giyu and Shinobu should remain out of commission. Things may be stirring, but are still not so bad that they cannot have the two of them continue to turn their attention elsewhere.

Once Shinobu finishes with Kanao’s hair, she lowers the other girl down to rest her head on her lap. Kanao looks a bit embarrassed and panicked, but Shinobu merely pats her head and runs her fingers through her sister’s smooth locks.

“Training has been going well?” Shinobu asks, and Kanao nods the same time Giyu does. She laughs. “See? There was nothing to be afraid of. What have I been missing?”

Giyu offers a breakdown of what he’s noticed from his sessions with Kanao, and the girl in question supplements a few hesitant remarks. The conversation is easy, even if Shinobu carries most of it as usual. Eventually, Kanao falls asleep against her will from Shinobu’s ministrations to her hair, and Shinobu chuckles at the sight.

“My, it seems she’s comfortable enough to fall asleep in your presence already,” she says, and Giyu raises his eyebrows.

“It’s only because you’re here,” he says.

Shinobu smiles and tilts her head at him, but neither agrees nor disagrees.

“You’ve been making progress,” she says instead, her voice softer.

“Perhaps. She seems…frustrated, on occasion, when she cannot execute what she wants properly.”

“Does she? That’s good,” Shinobu says, her tone curiously cool, and Giyu shifts so he can see her face better.

Yes, as he thought. Her eyes show a hint of relief, and it’s her turn to raise an eyebrow at his scrutiny.

“Are you onto me, Tomioka-san?” she says cheekily, but he frowns instead, the pieces that he was curious about coming together to form the whole picture.

“You’re scared,” he says, and Shinobu frowns.

“I’m angry,” she clarifies, but Giyu doesn’t relent.

“And scared, then. You want her to reach a breaking point. But she will not. Not with you, and perhaps not with anyone else. But you continue to try anyway.”

There is a silence.

“It is unpleasant, Tomioka-san, to have your worries aired by another person who does not understand the extent of it,” she says, her tone flat.

“Do I not?”

Her frown deepens.

“I suppose I could not say.” she says, playing with Kanao’s hair again. “Alright, then. Yes. I fear for her. Kanao has learned much, especially in the ways of expression. She has come a long way. But she is still learning, and struggling. Many emotions still come new to her. It is easy for the rest of us to use that emotion in battle…but for Kanao, it may hinder her instead, and fatally.”

“She loves you,” Giyu states.

“As I love her,” Shinobu replies. “And it may be her undoing.”

A pause.

“That is…not something…you can deter.”

“Nor should I. She did not…have a happy life before this, and I would never wish for her to experience anything similar again. And yet…I cannot help but feel she isn’t ready for…everything out there. She should have been able to live her life more leisurely, come to terms with things like love more leisurely. It is a tragic way to live, to understand such things only when things are taken away from you, and lost forever. She started from nothing. The more she gains, the more she will lose. Do you understand?”

He does.

“I wanted…Kanao to reach a breaking point, so that she may not have to reach it again in worse circumstances. But what could I do to enforce that, that isn’t wholly cruel? And besides—she is still so young. She should not have to reach a breaking point at all. And so it remains a conundrum, a vicious cycle.”

“You’re young too,” Giyu points out. “You’ll gray faster than any of us with the way you worry.”

Shinobu glares at him, and seems truly peeved.

“Tomioka-san, I am being serious.”

He shrugs.

“As am I. What use is there to concern yourself with things that you cannot—and should not—control? If you will not be there to guide her, you must help her guide herself.”

“I am trying,” Shinobu hisses, about to reiterate her earlier point, but Giyu nods.

“You are trying.”

She continues to bristle for a moment, then deflates. She sighs.

“It is all I can do,” she states.

“It is all you can do.” Giyu affirms.

They are quiet for a moment, the breeze chilling their skin and rustling their hair.

“Will you carry her?” Shinobu asks, patting Kanao’s head again. Giyu nods, lifting the girl from Shinobu’s lap.

She leads the way to Kanao’s room; he lays her down on her futon, and Shinobu tucks her in. As he looks around the room, he catches sight of the flower arrangement that had previously adorned the reception room, before his own amateur work had usurped its place. There are a few plants here, actually, and Giyu wonders if any of them are Kanao’s own works, or if they are all the ones Shinobu has discarded.

He turns back to the sisters and watches as Shinobu brushes a strand of hair away from her sister’s face.

“She’s just a girl,” she murmurs, sounding tired.

“So are you,” he says. “A young woman,” he amends, after a pause.

She turns to face him, a wry smile on her lips.

“So I am,” she says. “And you’re just a young man.”

“So I am,” he says. “We can only do what we can.”

She hums. His words are a fact—yet somehow, because she doesn’t answer him, he wonders just how far beyond human capability she wants to go. Just short of becoming a demon?

The thought chills him. He knows—believes—that Shinobu would never be tempted by a demon to become one. That isn’t the problem. It’s that that fine line between the two is terrifying, and Shinobu existing there is terrifying. 

She glances at him.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Tomioka-san,” Shinobu says with a smile. “I didn’t think anything scared you.”

His face is impassive as usual and Shinobu is mostly teasing, but she senses something uneasy in his countenance, and tilts her head in question. 

“How far do you intend to go?” he says, frowning, and her lips form an ‘o’ as she catches on to his path of thought. 

“As far as I can, of course,” she says, still smiling. “Silly Tomioka-san, how could I possibly go beyond, when I have all of you here to remind me that I cannot?”

There’s not a trace of accusation or bitterness when she says this, and Giyu blinks at her. There’s an ease in her expression, and the darkness clouding his thoughts lifts. 

“Yes,” he admits, “You’re right.”

She pats his arm reassuringly, even though he doesn’t need to be reassured. 

“Come now, then,” she says, “We should be finding our own beds as well.”

He pauses only momentarily before following, walking by her side comfortably. When was it, he thinks idly, that he began thinking of his lodgings here as hisbed,hisroom?

Giyu glances at Shinobu for a brief moment. In the past, they’d be bickering—and they still do, but there’s an ease to it now, an openness that wasn’t there before.

“Is there a problem?”

Giyu blinks, roused out of his thoughts. Shinobu looks up at him, and he meets her eyes before turning to look at the night sky.

“No,” he says after a pause, “I was just thinking the seasons will be changing soon.”

Shinobu hums.

“Yes, they will be, won’t they,” she murmurs absently. There’s an extended silence before she speaks again. “Are you prepared? For whatever may come?”

“Even if I am not, I will do what needs to be done.”

She lets out a soft laugh.

“Such a Tomioka-san-like answer.”

They reach Shinobu’s room, and Giyu blinks, as he hadn’t meant to accompany her directly its front. She smiles at him wryly, a hand on her door as she slides it open and walks partway in.

“Until tomorrow, Tomioka-san,” she says.

“Until tomorrow,” he echoes, already turning away.

He hears the door close softly behind him. He looks back up at the sky on his way back to his own room—the moon is bright, the air crisp, and his breathes in deep and slow.

Tomorrow, until tomorrow.

The days go by easily here—perhaps too much so.

.

.

.

Three months pass and Giyu’s sojourn ends with the arrival of autumn. He and Shinobu are called to the Ubuyashiki  Mansion, where Oyakata-sama smiles at them as they seat themselves before him.

“I trust that your break was well spent?” he asks.

“Yes, it was very productive,” Giyu answers promptly. Shinobu follows up with details, just as prompt.

“The medicines are restocked, and bar any unusually wide-scale attacks, we should be prepared for the next six months at the very least. Cultivation for additional herbs is going well, and the girls of my household are better trained in the medical and pharmaceutical arts to handle medium-level injuries. Kanao has been able to get in ample uninterrupted training with Tomioka-san’s help and has improved sufficiently throughout these months.”

The Master nods, folding his hands.

“Good work. I hope, in this time, that you were able to truly take a rest as well.”

Shinobu and Giyu do not look at each other before responding.

“Yes, of course.”

Oyakata-sama chuckles. There’s a silence as he continues to smile at them, as if he knows something they do not, but the two Pillars sit straight and serious as they always are in his presence.

“The seasons have changed,” he says mildly, and the Pillars murmur their acknowledgement. There’s a pause before the Master speaks again. “And sadly, your time of rest must come to an end. I have new orders that need to be carried out immediately. Are you ready?”

“Of course, Oyakata-sama.”

“Thank you.”

The Master’s orders are solo missions that put Shinobu to the east and Giyu to the west. They speak not so much a word to each other before they depart, focused as they are—Demon Slayers learn to move at a moment’s notice, and the habits that are ingrained in them cannot be dampened by a few months break.  

It’s only until much later, partway into their respective missions, that they realize that this will have been the first time they have been truly apart in a while.

.

Shinobu’s mission finishes up first—she quells a plague in the east villages, hunting down and killing the demon that began it. A majority of the villagers are saved, and the ones that cannot be, Shinobu takes care of the bodies herself. Even with the demon gone, she must be sure that the plague will not spread again, and so the bodies must be burned with exceptional care. It’s gruesome work, but work she is well acquainted with.

However, it’s still a relief when she makes it back home.

She pauses at the front gates, frowning.

My, have I gotten lazy? She wonders, as she pushes open the doors. This wasn’t her longest or worst mission by any regard; there was no reason or her to feel this level of relief.

Kanao visibly brightens at her appearance, and Shinobu smiles at her, patting her head as usual, but still feels somewhat discontent. She looks around the place, unsure of where this odd unease is coming from. What has changed? She doesn’t sense danger, and nothing drastic has changed about the place.

Kanao watches her wistful face, fidgeting as she wonders whether or not to voice her concerns.

“Shinobu nee-san,” she eventually forces out, when Shinobu still hasn’t moved. “Is…will Tomioka-san be returning here?”

Shinobu blinks, suddenly realizing just what it is that she feels like is missing. She thinks on it a bit before letting out a long suffering sigh.

How vexing, she thinks, that this should bother her so.

“I do not know,” she says to Kanao, who nods at this answer.

It’s not a no.

.

Giyu shows up at the gates of the Butterfly Mansion a week later, seemingly straight from his mission or reporting to Oyakata-sama, grubby as he is.

He walks in without preamble. None of the mansion staff bats an eye when they see him—he’d long become a regular sight, after all. Giyu heads straight to the bath first, then to his room for a change of clothes. He knows from the staff that Shinobu is back in residence, and that Kanao still is; he finds them in the herb garden, Shinobu in her uniform instead of a casual kimono that he’d become accustomed to seeing her in during their break.

Kanao sees him first, a faint smile gracing her lips. He inclines his head in greeting, and then Shinobu looks up, blinking in surprise to see him there.

“Tomioka-san!” she exclaims. “What are you doing here?”

He pauses halfway to them, having to think about the question. Now that he thinks about it—what is he doing here? He hadn’t even gone back to his little house—he’d come straight here, to the Butterfly Mansion.  

Giyu blinks back at her.

“I forgot,” he says, deadpan, and she raises an eyebrow.

“You forgot?”

“I didn’t know I was disallowed,” he says, just a touch defensively.

“I didn’t say that,” Shinobu says, perhaps a touch too quickly. She stands up, brushing stray bits of greenery from her uniform with one hand, then picking up the bundles of herbs she’s twined together from the ground. “In any case, you’re in time for dinner.”

“So I’m not disallowed?” he says, reaching out a hand for some of the bundles, which she passes over without thinking.

“I said I didn’t say you weren’t,” she sniffs.

“That’s confusing,” Giyu argues, turning over you aren’t not disallowed over in his head.

“Welcome back,” Kanao says, softly, looking between them.

The two Pillars blink at her, and Shinobu smiles wryly.  

“There it is, then.” she says.

There’s nothing more to be said. They hang the herbs to dry in the medicine room and head off to dinner together, as they’ve done several time before.

This feels right, Shinobu admits to herself.

Giyu mulls over the thought of his place here in the mansion.

Kanao walks between them, perfectly satisfied.

.

It’s a while before the question is brought up, but after several eyewitnesses’ musing, Uzui Tengen finally takes it upon himself to ask the question that the others don’t want to.

“Yo, Kochou!” Tengen says loudly, after the next Pillar meeting before everyone can disperse. He’ll be retiring soon, but there are still a few things he needs to clean up, so he is still in and out of meetings and the Ubuyashiki mansion for the time being.

“Uzui,” Shinobu says calmly as she turns, forgoing honorifics for the intended disrespect.

“Say! There’ve been some interesting rumors going around, and I want to know the truth.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Seems like Tomioka has been at the Butterfly Mansion a lot, what’s up with that?”

Shinobu’s lips curl down.

“Say, why is it that you keep involving yourself with my household, where you are not wanted?” she snipes while maintaining the façade of a smile. The fact that she draws her thumb across her throat ruins that, however.

Tengen sneers back, and one can practically see the sparks flying between them from the force of their glares. News of Shinobu’s wrath and merciless judgment when she had finally gotten her hands on Tengen after he’d tried to forcibly take Aoi and Naho on a mission had widely circulated, and people stayed out of her way for weeks, including Tengen’s own wives. Tengen had felt properly chastised, but—well, he had his pride, too.

“It’s just a question,” he grinds out, his smile twitching.

“Do you mean that Tomioka part of your household now?” Iguro cuts in, picking up on what Shinobu had said, intentionally or not.

Sanemi snorts.

“What, you guys shacking up?” he says, sticking a pinky in his ear to scoop out some earwax. Mitsuri squeals and covers her mouth at his words, then covers half of her face with her hands as a blush creeps up her neck.

Giyu blinks.

“Not quite,” he says, feeling like he should speak too, since the conversation involves him.

“Not quite,” Shinobu agrees, perfectly unfazed by the suggestion though her eyebrow twitches. Idly, Giyu wonders if the brief indications of annoyance from Kanao during training are adapted from Shinobu’s own habits.

“And what does that mean?!” Mitsuru jumps in, eyes sparkling, and Shinobu relents just a little in the face of her friend.

“Tomioka-san is a guest in my household,” Shinobu says slowly.

“Anextended guest,” Tengen points out, and Shinobu resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“And why, exactly, is this such a topic of interest?” she says. Even Iguro and Sanemi had stayed behind to watch this whole thing unfold, and while she wasn’t particularly unfriendly with either of them, neither were they usually so…keen on this kind of drama.

“It’s just odd, is all,” Iguro supplies, absently. Kaburamaru flicks his tongue out, as if in agreement.

Shinobu raises an eyebrow.  

“The question is merely why Tomioka is an extended guest in your household, when he has his own home,” Tengen persists, and Shinobu’s face is curiously blank.

Her slow, sardonic smile at the soon-to-be former Sound Pillar is so contemptuous that Sanemi feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Iguro senses that this conversation is about to end, with the Insect Pillar’s win.

“Fair point,” Shinobu says, her tone deadly calm and deceptively mild. “Tomioka-san, do you want to move in?”

Giyu, who had been staring at the fish in the pond while waiting for the conversation that he wasn’t really involved in to finish, turns his head at the sound of his name and blinks at her.

“Okay,” he says simply.

Mitsuri falls over, and Iguro flings out her arm to catch her, his eyes wide. Tengen blinks rapidly, and Sanemi’s mouth hangs comically open.

“There you have it,” Shinobu says airily. “Good day.”

She turns to leave, Giyu trailing after her.

It’s only until they are out of sight that the other Pillars manage to pull themselves together.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” Sanemi explodes, while Mitsuri revives and echoes similar sentiments, but with more excitement.

“Thatbrat didn’t answer my question!” Tengen huffs, striking all kinds of poses in aggravation.

Iguro watches his fellow Pillars for a moment before deciding to go home too. Shinobu and Giyu had the right of it.

Behind the door, where Ubuyashiki  Kagaya still stands with his daughters, the Master begins to laugh.

“It will not be too long now,” he says, and Hinaki and Nichika look at each other in mild disbelief of their father’s maneuvering.  

Still. If he is indeed correct, then perhaps they will all have something worth looking forward to.

.

In the spring of year 19XX, Tomioka Giyu moves permanently into the Butterfly Mansion.

The transition is quiet and easy and comfortable, as if it were always meant to be.

.

A year passes with ease, and almost another. 

There’s a bit of a routine, for when at least two of them are in residence. Meals are taken together, though lunch is more permissible to be skipped if they’re too preoccupied. Training happens at least once every week, unless they are recovering from injuries and cannot manage it. The staff have taken it upon themselves to inform Shinobu, Giyu, and Kanao if any of them have returned from longer missions, and no one questions it.

Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho sometimes join in for meals, but they h

I’m loving it.