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'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
—Alfred Lord Tennyson
There were no peach blossoms here in the Butterfly Estate, but the cherry blossoms that flew past him provided enough of a memory.
"Tomioka."
The deep voice behind him was unsurprising, but Giyuu still felt interrupted. With a sigh, he untangled his fingers from a thin branch of pink blossoms, listening for the footsteps that told of the other man's approach, and turned around when it stopped.
"Shinazugawa-san," Giyuu greeted quietly, keeping the shock out of his face, but his eyes enlarged comically at how close the other was. If he just lifted his arm and outstretched his fingers, he would be able to touch the tip of the Wind Pillar— no, the tip of the former Wind Pillar's nose.
There was an air of calm around him, but perhaps calm was not the right word. Giyuu tilted his head curiously. Shinazugawa had mellowed out adequately enough to tap his shoulder and call his name rather than shoving him out of the way to get to the same destination. For the last three months, the one time he'd seen him return to his prickly self was just a few days ago, and it was over something silly about not wanting to shave his head off despite waving a pair of rusty scissors.
"What are you looking at?"
And now, Giyuu supposed, that his calm exterior was tapering off. Bowing his head in apology, he took a step back, feeling the bark of the cherry blossom tree rub against his haori like leather. When he looked up again, Shinazugawa was staring at him funnily, as if he hadn't wanted him to step back, but he couldn't tell. He was tired, too, but Shinazugawa looked...
Frankly, he looked like he was dying.
Those deep, dark bags surrounding his eyes were of a man who hadn't slept in weeks, and Giyuu would know. His lavender-colored irises were dull like the life had been sucked out of him somewhere between today and the day Giyuu had met him again with a pair of scissors in hand. But, even if the light in them had dimmed, their focus had not. They scrutinized him like Urokodaki had done under his mask during his early youth, trying to understand why he was...Well, right now, he was staring. Obviously.
"You look well," was what Giyuu uttered meekly, barely a whisper in the wind, but Shinazugawa had heard it anyway and let out a bark of laughter. It didn't last very long with the quiet of their surroundings, but Shinazugawa's offered smile did. There was a breathless air about him as he ran his fingers through his hardly tamed white hair and glanced elsewhere with an amused exhale, Giyuu noted.
"Damn straight I do," Shinazugawa replied with a trace of fondness that Giyuu couldn't get out of his head. His smile was still there, although it sounded just as weary as his face looked. "It was hard sleeping when you've got...when this was hanging over my head, but it's over now."
Yes. It was. It was over.
No more days traveling on foot and wondering if he would make it on time. No more days beating himself up when he failed. No more days staying up awake with the fear that a demon would devour him when he was asleep and thinking that everything given to him will all go down the drain. No more days wondering if this will be his last day. No more days wondering if the next day would be just as the previous.
No more days thinking he was unworthy of being a Pillar.
Giyuu cast his eyes down, feeling his eyes curve high enough for him to know that his smile was wide. "It's over," he echoed, and he covered his mouth to keep that overjoyed laughter sitting on his tongue from escaping, but he was unsuccessful. The tightness in his chest finally uncoiled as he lifted his eyes despite the overwhelming moisture blurring them, barely registering the astonishment on Shinazugawa's face before laughing hysterically, "It's over!"
His hand flew over his chest, tugging together the two halves of his haori that Urokodaki had sewn together ages ago as though it was the last thing tethering him to reality. He laughed at a joke that wasn't said, at a promise that was already broken, and at a wish that had been made not too long ago and it just didn't feel real.
But it is, he thought as he tried to smother his cries. It's real, Tsutako. He squeezed his eyes shut. Sabito.
He never thought there would be a day he would cry happy tears again. The first was when Tsutako had announced her wedding as her thin fingers gently weaved into his hair. The last time had been when Sabito had promised that when they got out of the Final Selection, they would get out together.
Those two were very dear to him; the only two he would ever trust to see his tears save for Urokodaki and the Kamados. And this was the former Wind Pillar, who had to witness a broken man trying to resew the stitches he had worn down after so many years of not caring. This was Shinazugawa-san, who had called him names, shoved him around, and brought a sword to his neck at one point for just being himself.
This was Shinazugawa, who took him by the shoulder, sat him down on a stone slab, and allowed him to cry with no complaints if only to fill in the silence that shouldn't be.
Giyuu didn't feel it at first, but as his sobs tapered off into weak cries, he felt a hand with a loss of at least two fingers comb through his freshly cut hair. It pulled him into quietness, but the occasional sniffle left him and the soft slide of clothes as he brought his limp sleeve up to wipe at the eyes that threatened to cry a river again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, breaking the not at all tense silence he would've expected from crying unprompted. He didn't dare glance at Shinazugawa, but there was no feeling of two eyes burning twin holes into the side his face. He didn't say a word, and that was okay for Giyuu, who was just as exhausted.
It was only when Shinazugawa's fingers stopped did he tense up, but Shinazugawa only asked, "What's next?"
He seemed to be asking himself as he did not wait a beat for Giyuu to answer. "I think I'll make good use of my free salary and stay home," Shinazugawa started. Giyuu tilted his head up in question at his pause to find the other man staring off into the distance. A breezy smile crossed his lips as he went on, "I'll run through sword forms every day to keep in shape 'cause I still got two hands, cook myself a good dinner in the evening, and lay down on a bed that's finally made."
He looked up at the darkening sky. "I won't travel because traveling isn't my thing, but I'll go back to my village and pay the respects I've never made. I'll build a cenotaph for all my brothers and sisters and then Mom, even though there's nothing left of her, but hey." He chuckled good-naturedly. "What's stopping me?
"And then I'll go back home again because there's nothing left for me. I've never thought about women or children, and I don't think I ever will since I don't want to turn..." Shinazugawa's voice trailed off, but it came back stronger than before after an intake of breath that Giyuu thought hurt as he hurriedly finished, "And that's all I've got, and I think that's good."
Shinazugawa looked nervous. Giyuu hadn't noticed, but both of Shinazugawa's hands had come together, his left hand wrapped tightly over the other. Veins pulsed underneath his skin, blue and purple lines curving over the bone of his knuckle before disappearing at the start of his fourth finger. The adam's apple of his neck went up and down along his throat, and his bloodshot eyes searched for something in the day that would soon bleed into night.
Giyuu smiled placatingly, even though the other man wasn't looking at him. "I think that's good, too," he murmured.
Shinazugawa sighed exasperatedly, his hands falling apart. His eyes never left the sky as he grumbled, "You're supposed to tell me what you plan to do."
"What do you wanna do when there are no more demons?"
His answer would've taken a stressful day and some more if this were another day, but he has it.
"Nothing."
Giyuu wiped an invisible tear from his cheek and leaned back on the stone, the side of his hand right next to Shinazugawa's. His pinky stretched out to it. "My answer is not that different from yours, actually."
"Just say you don't believe the demons will ever go away! Tsk, so vague..."
"I'll also take advantage of my free salary and...try to spend the rest of my life back at the Water Estate."
"Look, Giyuu. Just think of what-ifs! It's an unrealistic question, I know, but like, stop being so...sad?!"
"I, unfortunately, do not have two hands, but I have a pair of legs that can get me somewhere," Giyuu said lightly, acutely aware of the hand falling atop of his like a feather. It gave him the strength to shut his eyes for a brief second and glance at the cherry blossom tree, picturing another.
"I'd...I'd like to go home."
"I'm a bad cook, but I'd like to try, even with only one hand."
"Do you mean...here? After everything?"
"I'm also not a fan of travel, despite that occupying my entire life." Giyuu huffed, futilely blowing away a strand of hair that stuck to the corner of his lips. He hummed appreciatively at the hand that brushed it away for him, still feeling the one that covered his own. After some thought, he turned his head, meeting Shinazugawa's attentive gaze, and laughed nervously. "But I think Tanjiro, Nezuko and the other two will come and visit me, and I think I'll like that...and since Urokodaki's getting up in his years, I'll go to him sometimes."
"Just...home."
"There's nothing for me back from where I'm from." Giyuu can remember the feel of rough, grating rock against his face, like it was just yesterday he was thrown on the ground. "If I ever go back, they'll see that the insane boy had lost an arm during his time away, his fashion sense, and something I won't bother searching for, but I can do something for my sister away from there."
"Do you want to do anything else? Be anything, if you want to be?"
"As for family, all I had ever wanted back then was my sister, my brother-in-law, and maybe a few nieces and nephews." Giyuu can see him now; peach blossoms lost in equally peach-colored hair, lavender eyes that could force you to pick your sword back up and train on, and...
"There is only one thing."
"But there was a boy." The way Shinazugawa's eyebrows shot up made him snicker with heat on his cheeks. "I don't think you'd judge me, so I'm telling you that there was a boy, and..."
"Giyuu, if you don't stop being so mysterious, I'll—"
"...and he died in Final Selection, but he had promised me that we'd make it out and become Water Pillars together, as strange as it sounded." The tears hadn't fallen yet, but they were coming dangerously close. He reached for the left side of his haori where he had spent countless nights running his fingers over the geometric patterns, searching for a warmth that didn't belong there anymore, and softly told Shinazugawa, "But I loved him, so what else is new? I'm as strange as they come and..." He shrugged, glancing away. "...that's just that."
"H-Home is wherever you are, Sabito. Anywhere you go, it's—"
"Giyuu! How dare you say such things to my poor heart? You'll make a man weep for real—"
"Sabito!"
"That isn't so different at all," Shinazugawa muttered a moment later, catching Giyuu off guard.
Giyuu raised a brow and reminded, "I already gave you a warning, and yet you chose to waste your time."
"Is it really wasting time when I get to hear you speak some more?"
"To Shinobu, it is."
Giyuu knew he said something wrong when Shinazugawa's eyes flashed with a steeliness that disappeared as quickly as it came. Giyuu gulped. He hadn't been close to the other pillars unlike Shinazugawa, and any mention of them could one of the man's walls. Still, he got to know one well even if she had never wanted the attention, but to him, it felt right to return what he'd been given. Everyone knew their odd relationship of mutual dislike, but it had meant something to him.
"Well, look who's been paying attention."
The words were awkward, having come after too many seconds have passed, but Giyuu's head quickly caught up to him. He shook his head, ridding himself of any more tears, and clapped his thigh. Trying not to miss the warmth of the other's hand too much, he stated, "It's getting late."
"I have eyes, genius."
"Ah."
"I guess I'll..." Shinazugawa grunted as he got to his feet, crossed his arms behind his back in a short stretch, and allowed them to fall to his sides. He looked down at Giyuu with an unsureness the other man never thought he'd see. "...go?"
Giyuu sent him a painful smile, internally praying that it was as beatific as he felt. "No one's stopping you." He raised his hand to his face and added, "And I'm definitely not stopping you."
Shinazugawa chuckled a little at that, but it sounded as forced as the smile Giyuu tried to hold. He was taken aback by the tint of pink high up on Shinazugawa's cheeks that blossomed, but it could've been the cold. A sudden, biting cold, that he could also feel.
"You..." Shinazugawa hesitated. Giyuu could only watch as he gave up struggling with his words, perhaps thinking that even trying to get the words out would make him look more like an idiot. Predictably, he clamped his mouth shut and looked away. "'Bye."
I don't want a "'bye."
Giyuu didn't settle for less, even as his heart stuttered and thumped against him in warning, but it didn't matter much to him if he'd be ripping it apart again. It could mend as it had done before. At least one of them had to say what they wanted to say, and so, stumbling to his feet, he called out to the embroidered characters of "kill" and shouted, "Shinazugawa-san!"
He squinted through the drowning light of the sun. It's now or never—
"Will I see you again?"
His heart clenched, fingers digging deeply into his uniform when Shinazugawa stood as still as a statue. The roaring of blood in his ears only grew louder with the aromatic scent of cherry blossom petals drifting by, the waving, orange tips of fluffy, white hair, and the excruciating wait of a response. It was nothing like the honey-sweet scent of peach blossoms that circled atop cold tea, or the fuzzy, peach-colored hair that extended past young shoulders. This time, there was no cackle of embarrassment that spoke so many more words than words alone, no hug and promise of a future together, but this was—
—I want to see you again, he thought pleadingly as the wind picked up the scent of dirt and leaves and carried it past him. I have people who want to see me, but who will see you?
Can I see you?
"I don't know, will you?"
Giyuu didn't expect anything else but an un-Shinazugawa-like answer from this very new Shinazugawa, and as frustrating as it was for his heartstrings that screamed, it made him laugh.
"Will I?" he parroted when his laughter died down, throat pleasantly sore and smile still sweet on his lips. "Do you think I'll see you again someday?"
"I think you know where I live."
Giyuu's slit his eyes against the sunlight, because, truthfully, he did not where the Wind Estate was, and they both knew that. He's never been to anyone's estate other than the Butterfly Estate. As rare as it was, everyone he had worked with came to him, but he knew that this time, he won't be waiting anymore, even if deep down...
"And quit it with the 'Shinazugawa-san' already, will ya?" Shinazugawa whipped around to glare at him, and Giyuu praised his eyes for being able to see the irritable furrow of the other man's unnoticeable brow. "You're making me sound old." Shinazugawa turned around and resumed walking away, and Giyuu could hear the mutter of, "I'm not that old..."
"You've always been Shinazugawa in my head," Giyuu breathed. Then, with his heart bobbing in his throat, he shouted, "Then, can you call me Giyuu?"
It was not a fair trade. Shinazugawa's never given him any formality, though he was not taking back what he said when the other couldn't even hear it. Knowing Shinazugawa—who he didn't know much of, honestly—he probably ignored it.
That's fine by me, he thought as he stared forward, losing the itch to look back at the tree weeping behind him.
He had an invitation, as unclear as it was. Someday, when he felt up to it, he would go find him, or as he has always done, let life take his breath away once more. Either way was fine, he told himself, although he knew he preferred the latter. The unexpected was all he had ever known in his life, and just because there weren't any demons left to screw things up for him didn't mean the rickety road ahead had suddenly morphed into a smooth one.
Three months wasn't enough, however, to become whole again, and another three could still end with the same result. To Giyuu, though, it was a good excuse to wait a little longer and attach the fabrics he had neglected through eight everlasting springs.
"Here," a lovely, feminine voice instructed from a homely memory, voice as calm as a stream. "Tie it," she said as she effortlessly stuck the thread through the tiny needle hole before placing it into a small hand, "and then poke it through..."
Smiling meaningfully, Giyuu lowered his head and thought, No. I don't think I regret this at all.
I swear I couldn't love you more than I do right now, and yet I know I will tomorrow.
—Leo Christopher