Random Kny One Shots [Requests Closed] I d̶o̶n̶’̶t want to | {ShinoGiyuu}

Theme: Fluffy angst?

Note: Prompt—”I can’t fall in love with you. I don’t want all the pain that comes with it.”
I love angst prompts- This one fit Giyuu well sooo

Manga spoilers kinda 🤩

and i think yk what that means~

Tags: @Blubbo_forever

Giyuu was in love. For the first time in so many years. And he couldn’t seem to get himself out of this stupid thing. Whenever he saw her, his eyes would light up and butterflies lit up his chest, beating his heart faster than it should be. He tried suppressing it, tried everything.

He tried writing out everything annoying about her, everything he hated, but he kept drawing blank after writing the first word, not knowing anything about her that was negative or bad. 

He tried ignoring her but he found himself constantly wandering back to her, gazing at butterflies because they reminded him of her.

He tried convincing himself that love was a waste of time, it wouldn’t help. He made himself think about everything that could go wrong but his mind wandered back to the fact that he loved her—he loved her too much to care.

It was hard.

He wanted her. Too much. 

But he couldn’t have her. He didn’t want… to endanger her. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

So all he could do was try—try—to not gain her love back. He wanted it so badly but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he couldn’t fall out of love, might as well make sure she didn’t love him.

So he ignored her. Acted cold, uncaring. Even went out of his way to talk to every other Hashira except her. Even Sanemi. 

But… she kept coming back. She was persistent. 

Her smile was curious and asking, wondering why he wouldn’t talk to her. She would ask him questions, pester her day after day, not caring that he wouldn’t talk back to her. Because he never told her to leave. Even if he acted like this, he’d never once told her to leave. 

He didn’t want to. He couldn’t make himself shout at her, or say anything mean. So he stayed quiet.

And yet she persisted. She didn’t stop. Never did.

He loved that about her. He wished he didn’t.

And one day… one day, she told him something. Something that made him freeze up, his mind drawing blank, scared. No, not scared. But his heart raced and his face flushed and he turned to look at her, actually, physically acknowledge her. 

“What?” 

She smiled. “I like you.” She said it so simply but to his ears it was a melody, a song. She spoke like an angel, her smile and her eyes and her… everything. It was angelic.

He didn’t know what to say. He stared at her for a long time, trying to think of something. 

But then she turned, humming to herself, and skipped off. She didn’t seem disappointed by his lack of response. 

Perhaps his appearence had been obvious that he repricated her feelings.

And he was left there, by himself, staring in wonder at the girl he loved so dearly. The one who had just told him that she loved him.

He found himself falling deeper in love.

When she spoke to him, he would give her a slight smile or a nod. Would respond to her questions with a short assent or a shake of the head. He wanted her to be happy. He didn’t want her to think he liked her, though she probably guessed. So he didn’t speak. He only… acknowledged her. 

Which seemed to be enough for her for she began talking a lot more, eating lunch with him when she could and taking her time to give him things, small gifts.

He began giving some back, feeling almost guilty if he didn’t.

They wrote letters. 

He kept his short and careful, not wanting her to think anything of them. Hoping she wouldn’t mind if he didn’t write anything so elaborate or exciting as her own. 

It was something he began looking forward to. 

She noticed. 

She asked him, one day, something. Something that made him freeze so similarly to that one day but in a way that wasn’t quite so wonderful. 

“Do you like me?”

He couldn’t say yes. He couldn’t nod. If he did, she was bound to die. Everyone he got close to died. Because of him. He was always so incapable of helping. Saving.

Somehow, he saved people’s lives. Everyone’s lives except the people that mattered most to him.

He just stared at her. And for a long moment, he didn’t know what to do. 

She looked confused, not able to read his expression.

And then she left.

She looked disappointed. Her posture wasn’t the lively one it had been the other day.

It was almost sad, confused.

She stopped seeing him as much.

She began eating with him less and less. Her gifts were less thought out and she just handed them to him with a short, “Hello” and then a “goodbye.”

Her letters drew shorter and shorter until they were only a few sentences. 

He didn’t know what to do. He’d fucked up somehow and he didn’t know what the hell he had to do.

He tried talking to her more.

His letters were filled with apologies, his gifts were flowers and chocolates suddenly, little notes of ‘I’m so sorry,’ again and again and again. 

When he got hurt, Aoi was put to the task of helping him.

She never did it anymore. Her previous smiles and laughter and talk weren’t given to him anymore. He would try to offer them back to her but his attempts probably seemed pitiful compared to how wonderful she’d been. She still was. But not to him anymore.

He would catch her smiling as she spoke to someone else. But as soon as her eyes landed on him, her whole expression seemed to melt away. She would suddenly look weary, tired. As if she didn’t know what to do.

He felt like as she always looked around him too. 

And then something happened.

Something that made him realize that he should’ve told her. Should’ve explained everything.

He stood above her grave.

It was raining; fitting to his mood. At least it hid his tears. 

He stared at the stone with her name etched in it, looking stupid and horrible compared to her lovely smiles, her beautiful looks.

But they were all gone. All of what was left of them were in his memories, replayed over and over, each day getting dimmer and dimmer with age.

He placed the flowers he’d brought down. Wisteria. Purple like her eyes. Representing the flowers she’d constantly use when she’d been alive.

And then roses. Red like the love he’d felt for her, red like the danger that flashed before her a moment before her death. Representing the flowers he’d given to her as he’d tried to get her to talk to him again.

He stared at the plants. They were dead too. He’d cut them off of their original bushes and now they were dead. Because of him.

He sank to a crouch in front of her gravestone, his eyes fluttering close. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, the words he’d spoken and written and begged of her to understand for weeks before her death. “I’m so sorry, Shinobu.”

{Word count: 1193}

Anyone notice how I didn’t use their names at all except in the very first word and very last?<3 

If you did then wow bc I was half way through writing this when I realized I’d not used either of their names throughout most of it-

I loved writing this :0

dk why LMFAO

i rarely write ShinoGiyuu so