Theme:Â Floof :p
Note: i forgot about you guys (/j.. mostly..)
×××
The first thing Giyuu registered was a gentle scent of ohagi. Which was peculiar because he never ate sweets unless Mitsuri gave it to him—and even then, it was mostly because Obanai’s glare felt piercing. But now, unless someone was dangling mochi under his nose, he doubted the smell could be so strong. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a wave of confusion and concern. He was in an unfamiliar room, laying in some futon. He sat up quickly, reaching for his katana—which he realized wasn’t on his belt. Before he could panic, however, he felt a sharp pain on his side. He winced, glancing down at himself. His uniform top and haori had been taken off, replaced by bandages wrapped around his middle that hugged his body snuggly, light pink staining the area where it hurt. He let out a breath. Perhaps they had ran out of room in the Butterfly Mansion and had taken him here instead? But then, who did he know who ate ohagi? Mitsuri? This place was oddly bare for someone like her.
He looked around and noticed his haori sat folded by his pillow and his sheathed katana. He let out a relieved breath and quickly grabbed them, tucking the his katana into his belt—which had thankfully not been removed, along with his pants—and slipped on his haori as he stood. He just needed his uniform top before he left. He could vaguely recall being on a mission with Sanemi, remembering the mostly shallow cut he’d received from the demon. Ah, well, he supposed that his shirt must’ve been ripped, then. He’d send a crow for a new one.
But—wait. Sanemi? Had he brought him here? Was this his house? No, it wasn’t as if he’d care. Last thing Giyuu remembered before his exhaustion took its inevitable toll on him was Sanemi’s angry berating as he shouted at him to be less careless. Of course this wasn’t Sanemi’s house. Not with the sweet aroma of mochi.
Giyuu left the room, making his way through the unfamiliar halls as he searched for someone. Then he heard a muffled thunk of bamboo falling to the ground and connected it with the sound of training. He hurried towards the direction of it, taking several wrong turns until he found a door that opened outside. He stepped out and saw—Sanemi? Sanemi, sheathing his katana and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked up, seeing Giyuu.
“You’re awake,” he remarked, striding over.
Giyuu nodded slowly. “You… eat ohagi?” he blurted out—before realizing that was probably not a good first thing to say and hurried to retrace his steps. “I mean- Thank you. Uhm. Where’s my uniform?”
Sanemi scowled, probably about the comment about the food. “It’s shredded. I sent a crow to the tailor, though. You’ll probably get it soon,” he reassured him. He seemed quite pacified today, which was strange.
“Oh. Thank you,” Giyuu repeated, nodding his head in acknowledgement.
Sanemi raised a shoulder. “You should lay down. Kocho’ll be mad if you open that wound.”
Ah. So Shinobu had been the one that sent him here. Maybe she’d threatened Sanemi to be nicer or something.
“Why am I here instead of the Butterfly Estate?” Giyuu asked, after a moment.
“Uh.” Sanemi looked awkward. “I brought you here first and it was too much of a hassle to bring you there.”
“Oh.” It honestly didn’t seem likely, Giyuu figured Sanemi would rather carry him to Antarctica than keep him at his house. But then again, Shinobu did have quite a strong effect.
They stood there for a while, shifting uncomfortably. It seemed suddenly much worse when Sanemi wasn’t screaming at him. Because now Giyuu could see him properly and, tired he was, he caught himself staring several times. Sanemi was still breathing mildly heavily, lingering from his training. Beads of sweat dotted his skin. The opening in Sanemi’s uniform seemed wider than usual, revealing the scars that streaked his chest and abdomen. For some reason, it made Giyuu’s face burn as if he hadn’t seen most of the Hashira without shirts before (in training, usually in the summer), and he turned away, clearing his throat.
“I can leave now,” he mumbled.
Sanemi started, shaking his head. “No- Uhm, you should rest. Shouldn’t exert yourself. Go sleep,” he said quickly. “I’ll get you some food.”
Giyuu started to shake his head, but Sanemi was already making his way towards the house. Suppose he tried running off anyway? No, Shinobu would make mashed potatoes out of him.
He sighed and resigned himself to following Sanemi inside.
A few minutes later, he found himself sitting back in the bed with Sanemi knelt beside him, helping him prop up a tray of food on his lap.
“Where did you get this?” Giyuu asked, curious. He began to eat, glancing at Sanemi.
“I made it,” Sanemi said dismissively.
Giyuu raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know Sanemi could cook.
Sanemi rolled his eyes at the reaction but didn’t leave yet, settling down comfortably. And so Giyuu continued eating, uncomfortably aware about their proximity and the strange tranquility Sanemi bestowed today. Perhaps he was tired. His eyes always did seem more bloodshot than usual.
But then, the following day, Sanemi was the same. He had forced Giyuu to stay the night and had left food for him before going on a mission. When he had returned home at dawn, he had gone to sleep leaving Giyuu to do whatever. He ended up training, too restless to sleep any more.
Sometime before noon, Sanemi found Giyuu in the same place Giyuu had found Sanemi the first day. Immediately, he yanked the wooden katana and shouted at him. It was an almost refreshing reaction—until Giyuu registered the words being thrown at him.
“You’re injured, are you an idiot? You can’t train unless you want to bleed out and die!” Sanemi snapped, tossing aside the katana and glaring furiously at him. “Look!”
He shifted aside Giyuu’s haori to reveal the bandages. They were stained a deep red, which was still growing.
Giyuu glanced down at himself, then back at Sanemi. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not! Can I go anywhere without you being careless and hurting yourself?! First the mission, now this—are you fucking kidding me?” Sanemi let out an exaggerated sigh and grabbed Giyuu’s wrist, pulling him towards the house. “We’re changing the bandages and then you’re going to sleep.”
Giyuu struggled for a moment before giving in, deciding it was probably for the best. As Sanemi replaced the bandages, wiping away the blood beforehand, Giyuu noticed a sort of tenderness to his actions despite the fact that he was muttering angrily about ‘stupid Tomioka and his shitty decisions’. When Sanemi finished, he looked up, meeting Giyuu’s eyes. Then, peculiarly, he looked away.
“There. Don’t go fucking up again,” Sanemi said, picking up the roll of bandages he hadn’t used and standing.
“Shinazugawa?”
“What?” Sanemi balled up the old bandages in one hand to throw away.
“Why are you taking care of me? Do you care?” Giyuu asked.
“Well I’m sorry for caring?” Sanemi said, rolling his eyes. He turned towards the door. “It’s not my fault I fell in love with you. Unless you have any ideas how I can un-love you, I’m all ears.”
Giyuu stared at him, wondering if he heard him wrong. “What?”
Sanemi froze. “No. No, uhm, I didn’t say that—” he tried, turning back.
“You love me?” Giyuu asked incredulously, not believing it.
“No!” Sanemi snapped, backing away. “No- I- Forget what I said!”
Then he left, slamming the door and running off to who knows where. Giyuu sat there, mind completely blown. How could he possibly just forget that Sanemi Shinazugawa, of all people, had told him that- that he loved him! And he doubted it was some joke, what with the reaction that followed it. But what the fuck?
×××
« Word count: 1308 »
i didnt know how to end it so uhm yea
based on some prompts :3
Comment