Waves of Envy | Giyū Tomioka
Pairing: Giyū Tomioka x GN!Reader
Summary: Giyū is confronted by his feelings of jealousy, and most importantly, his feelings about you.
Warnings: Canon-typical themes of death, self-consciousness and feelings of inadequacy mentioned. There's a lot of angst, I would say, with a happy ending, a bit of fluff and suggestive themes.
Word Count: 3.5k
This is also available to read on AO3, if you prefer.
—
Through the corner of his eye, Giyū watched as Kanzaburō attempted to make himself comfortable on the windowsill. The venerable crow, using the ends of his talons, lightly scratched against the wooden ledge, once, twice, then again before tucking his legs beneath himself, nestling into his rest spot. Giyū noted the way the crow’s neck craned towards the sunlight, comfortably basking underneath it. It filled him with a small joy.
A few moments after he settled, Kanzaburō began to preen. His right wing, which was formerly tucked close to his body, was now extended as he gently nibbled it, sweeping his beak along the length of his feathers to position them back in place.
A few paces in front of the Water Pillar stood the Insect Hashira, whose attention was directed towards her wooden-framed pharmacy. Her nimble fingers faintly grazed against the edge of the shelves, making quick work to decipher which treatments were needed before she headed to the infirmary.
On their return from a routine demon-extermination mission, Isuzu, Tsuyuri Kanao’s crow, had intercepted them, informing Kochō, and by happenstance Giyū, of an injured slayer in need of her medical intervention.
Giyū turned his attention to Kochō, watching wordlessly as she grabbed a notebook that lay on her desk.
“Be sure to give my apologies to the Master, Tomioka-san. If there weren’t such a dire case here at the Butterfly Mansion, I would have surely reported the results of our mission alongside you”, she spoke softly.
Giyū closed his eyes, a form of acknowledgement to Kochō of her words.
“It’s not an issue. Do what you need to here”, Giyū replied, turning on his heels to begin his descent from her office.
Upon hearing his companion’s footsteps, Kanzaburō unhappily stood, turning to face the two pillars. “Giyū”, he wailed with discontent, “I am tired of flying”; the exhausted glint of his eyes guilting the Water Pillar.
With a quiet sigh, Giyū motioned with a light tap on his shoulder for the elderly crow to rest on him. With a pleased trill, the crow flew lazily over to Giyū, resting himself within the crux of his neck.
As she walked ahead of him, leaving the confines of her office, Kochō voiced, “Oh dear, I think Kanzaburō is the only being I’ve ever seen you spoil Tomioka-san, and he’s a crow. How puzzling.”
The insult tensed Giyū’s shoulders, and the tiniest twitch began to prickle at the centre of his brows. Despite this, he fought any inclination to defend himself; instead, he continued, walking in the opposite direction to Kochō, leaving the Butterfly Mansion to report their mission to Master Ubuyashiki.
Deliberate with his steps, Giyū strode through the rōka, giving way to the bustling Kakushi who were carrying either endless trays of food or medical supplies, all while trying to provide Giyū with a respectful greeting. With each address, the Water Pillar merely nodded before stiffly peering back behind him to let the medics know they could continue with their duties — they need not greet him.
As he finally approached the main entrance, the radiant glow of the sunlight was almost fantastical—celestial. The three delightful, hearty laughs he heard from the niwa were just as whimsical.
Directly under the pink, blooming cherry blossom tree stood Rengoku, tall and proud, holding one of the Butterfly girls, Takada Naho, up towards the branches while she giggled ecstatically. The butterfly-wing-mimic accessories in her pigtails glimmered bright green in the sun.
Besides the two, you stood, the tenderness in your eyes directed fondly towards them. Your laughter crooned pleasantly, harmonious with theirs. Your smile was bright, glowing in a way that almost rivalled the sunshine.
The scene was idyllic; a perfect encapsulation of memories one holds dear as they fight in this demon-spoiled world. Giyū wondered if that was why this view hurt him so much, the fact that this wasn’t a demon-free world, or was it something more intricate than that?
Seemingly unnoticed so far, the Water Hashira hastily tried to examine the tidal wave that had plunged over him, causing him to tighten his hands into fists when, before, they hung loosely at his side.
The surging ripples within him were tinted green in colour, a stark contrast to his usual true, calm blue. Initially, it had surprised him that the ripples began to relax at the sight of Rengoku and Naho playing together by the tree, and that they soared and crashed once his gaze focused on you. The warmth in your eyes as you watched the two submerged Giyū with an odd sensation, and that’s how he quickly surmised that he was jealous.
With a deep breath, one that had Kanzaburō shifting to secure his place on Giyū’s shoulder, Giyū looked down at the ground in silent acknowledgement.
It had all happened slowly, this emotional development.
Wistfully, he remembers meeting you at the last Hashira meeting. The Master had summoned you, amongst himself and the Hashira, to provide a report of the situation of your mission before Iguro and Kanroji had intervened, saving you and other slayers from a deathly encounter with the newly appointed, and now eviscerated, Lower Four.
In the meeting, Shinazuagwa and Iguro, as typical for them, were snide and demeaning, making a point to highlight to the Master, in front of you, how the calibre of Demon Slayers had dwindled to pathetic lows. Despite this, you had held your head high, recounting your own and others’ findings, accomplishments and errors, and Giyū could not help but find himself slowly captivated by you.
At first, he had admonished himself for being superficial. Thinking it was your appearance, though not necessarily unique, that had momentarily engrossed him. However, as you encountered each other, seemingly more and more as he was able to identify you from the hordes of dark-tinted uniforms, Giyū had accepted within himself that your kind and empathetic nature had moved him.
He remembers an assignment the Master had delegated to him through Kanzaburō. Once he had arrived, he witnessed the onslaught of Demon Slayers overwhelmed by a group of demons who had banded together, a rare occurrence, to destroy a small town on the edge of Tokyo. As the remains of the demons burned into the acrid smell of ash, Giyū recalls you comforting a young civilian boy who was unfortunate enough to get mixed in the carnage.
The boy had lost both his older brothers before the Demon Slayer’s arrival, and amidst his grief, he shared his worry of not being believed as he returned home to the remainder of his family. Demons were a horrible, hidden secret — only understood by those who had encountered them and signs of a deteriorating mind to others who did not know any better. Giyū observed you, amongst the flock of Kakushi tending to slayers and civilians alike, as you offered to support the boy home and affirm his story to his parents.
The warmth that Giyū felt in that moment, as you guided the small boy away from the scene, enveloped him like the healing waters of an onsen. It had reminded him of his own childhood; memories that he had kept away and locked in the back of his mind, and he was thankful that, unlike him, the boy had you as his support.
From then on, he slowly began to appreciate everything about you. Your strong will, your sense of justice, the way the afternoon glow caressed your skin, your smile — your beautiful smile.
In turn, your more frequent interactions have made you two more familiar with one another, so when you finally sense his gaze in your direction, you turn towards him, the smile on your face remaining; it possibly sparkled even more, but Giyū reasons that the intense brightness of the sun was affecting his sight.
“Tomioka-san!” you called, hurriedly making your way over to him, making Rengoku pause and look too in his direction, gently putting Naho down to the ground.
Although no real emotion had appeared on his face to the outsider, Giyū made an effort to compose himself as the three of you approached to greet him.
Though you had begun walking towards him first, Rengoku was quick, matching your footsteps in tandem. This synchronicity bothered Giyū, the crashing waves of jealousy engulfing him.
“Ah, Tomioka-san! How excellent it is to see you. I trust that your mission with Kochō-san went well!” Rengoku remarked, his strong sincerity evident in the smile on his face, it was almost enough to ease Giyū’s tension.
The Water Pillar said nothing in return; instead, he glanced over to you, noticing the trio of boxes you held to your side. Unperturbed by his lack of response, Rengoku followed his line of sight, his smile widening. “I see you’ve noticed our gifts. We’ve come to thank the girls at the Butterfly Mansion for their assistance in healing our wounds following our last mission. How lucky they are, as we found the best dango in the area. It’s very tasty!”
Giyū couldn’t help the cascade of negativity he felt at that. The thought of the two of you spending time together, alone, outside of your duties and obligations, likely trying out several food market locations, felt too intimate to bear.
“Would you like to —”, before you can finish your sentence, Giyū interrupts you.
“My apologies”, he started, “I am due to report back to the Master. I must go so as not to keep him waiting.”
Looking ahead, Giyū continued his walk out of the Butterfly Mansion. He had noticed the dejection in your demeanour, and he quietly reprimanded himself for being so dismissive.
—
By the time Giyū had finished at headquarters, the afternoon sun had subsided, and light no longer illuminated every corner and crevice surrounding him. Rather, the shadows of roofs, trees, and shrubbery had extended, and his environment was tinged with a burnt orange, matching the sky.
He debated going home, seeking calm and seclusion, but the rumble in his stomach prevented him from moving forward. With a sigh, he turned around, walking in the opposite direction from his estate towards the nearby town.
With it being the hour of yūshoku, the streets were swarmed with people. The few remaining merchants, who had not resigned their duties for the day, stood behind their cases of vegetables, meat, and fish, caterwauling promises of a price cut, over sounds of families and couples convening for dinner.
Through the interiors, the lanterns beamed a serene glow through the washi paper of the shoji screens. The warm aura radiated in turn the whole street as Giyū observed the way lanterns decorated the street above himself and other passers-by.
Recognising the familiar light-blue noren of his favourite place for nabemono, Giyū slowed his pace, beginning to sweep aside the linen when he heard the sounds of laughter again.
It rendered the Water Hashira completely still, and for a few moments, his face betrayed his sense of disarray. After a few attempts, Giyū willed his hand to push past the pale-blue linen.
Stowed away in the corner sat you, Rengoku and Kanroji, making sense to Giyū the slightly differing melody of the laughter; however, it remained harmonious, with yours in particular offering a honeyed sound that sent his head spinning.
Rengoku was faced away from him, directly opposite you, while Kanroji sat to the side between you. All three of your attentions were directed at the bubbling claypot set on a fire in the middle of you all. Rengoku served as the nabe-bugyō, lightly reprimanding Kanroji for her eagerness to begin eating.
“Young slayer, I, too, am excited for this meal, but we must wait until the broth has cooked the vegetables and made them flavourful!”
You chuckled to the side from Rengoku’s comment, clearly mindful of Kanroji as she pouted in disappointment.
The entire group’s deposition conveyed a sense of comfort and ease. It was as if you had found a home within each other; the conversation appeared easy, the laughter rang through, and, for Giyū, the seemingly most painful part was seeing your smile being directed once again at Rengoku.
Once he had left the quarters of Kochō’s estate, Giyū had managed to calm the violent ripples that had shifted him to the core. Despite that, the water had sadly returned, raging with immense fury, crashing so much inside him it felt as though his bones were shaking.
With a maintained veneer of neutrality, Giyū left, moving rapidly to return to his estate.
He was careful not to brush against anyone; weaving through the remaining crowds seamlessly, like the water he had trained all these years to be.
In his mind, he uttered your name, cursing you, which subsequently made him wince as though the thought was sacrilegious. In his distress, he couldn’t help himself, yet he apologised to you all the same.
Before you, Giyū admittedly hadn’t given much thought about how he came across to others. He was quiet, he knew, but that was only because he didn’t have much he wished to say. He spoke when it was important to him, when his words were needed.
Aside from Urokodaki and Kanzaburō, he made no real effort to see anyone outside of what was needed for his duties. There was no need; his responsibilities ensured that he had to be around people, his fellow Hashira, junior Demon Slayers, and civilians all the time. Yet still, he found himself wanting to be around you. The missions and accidental encounters you had no longer felt enough for him.
However, Giyū knew that he wasn’t like that, someone people craved to be around all the time, and that he couldn’t miraculously change himself into someone else.
Someone like Rengoku, whose warm embers thawed anyone who had ever met him into his circle of comrades and friends. They were opposites in both their practice as Demon Slayers and in their ways of connecting with others. —
Although Giyū had earlier wanted to seek reprieve inside his estate, on his way home, he meandered. He had reasoned that he wanted to locate Kanzaburō, as during his meeting with the Master, the ageing crow had flown off, presumably to rest somewhere peacefully, but had not yet returned.
His reason was soon nullified as the crow had returned, circling above him in unison with another crow, which Giyū could not readily identify.
After a few coordinated circles above him, Kanzaburō made himself at home once again on Giyū’s shoulder, rubbing his beak against the dark strands of his hair.
“Home time now, Giyū! Time for rest and food”, the crow had exclaimed, and for him Giyū could not refuse. He knew, though, that as he had been away for a while on his mission with Kochō, there was likely nothing for him to eat. Still, he consolidated himself with the fact that there likely remained some seeds and nuts of which he could feed Kanzaburō.
As he approached the gateway to his estate, he noticed a lone figure standing in front of the wicket gate. From a distance, his mind pondered on who it could be, but as he drew closer, he recognised the haori that shielded the slayer from the cold night air. It was at this point that Giyū admitted that he could likely recognise it from anywhere.
Hearing his sandals tread against the ground, you turned around. At the sight of him, your eyes visibly glazed with a tenderness that almost left him breathless. Your smile, your frightfully wonderful smile, returned, and Giyū, attempting to follow your eyeline, had assumed it had been for Kanzaburō as the crow had, if he remembered correctly, garnered your attention from a past mission. The elderly crow did not fully align with your line of sight, though, which, to Giyū, could only mean that your smile was meant for him, and therefore, he couldn’t contain the small choke that left him.
“Tomioka-san”, you cheerfully, almost, sang. “I was hoping I hadn’t missed you.”
“I”, you stumbled. “I brought this for you”, and with that, you held up a carefully wrapped furoshiki that was light-blue in colour.
Giyū couldn't bring himself to do anything else but stare at the bag. What was it for? Why did you bring this to him?
Timidly, you itched the side of your cheek, trying but failing to hide your nervousness. “I really wanted to gift you some of the dango we brought earlier, but the girls were so eager, and you had to report to headquarters, so I went back to the market to get some for you, and since it was evening-time, I thought I would grab a meal too. I hope you’re hungry.”
Slowly, Giyū’s eyes shifted from the item you held in front of him to meet your own, and with that, it was as if the tidal wave within himself had finally come to rest. The waves within him that crashed and tore at his insides had turned into soothing, slow motions of water creeping up a shore. With a deceptively steady hand, he gently took the bag from you and muttered a soft-spoken gratitude.
Your eyes lingered on his face for a short while before returning his thanks with a small smile, turning on your feet to go. Before you could, Giyū’s next words gave you pause.
“It would be rude of me to enjoy this gift alone. Would you like to join me?”
Your answer only escaped you for a few moments, “Of course, Tomioka-san. I would love to.”
“Giyū”, the Water Pillar spoke with some finality. In response, you posed your query with a hum.
“I would prefer it if you would call me Giyū. You are being invited to my home after all.”
“Okay, Giyū-san.”
With that, both of you continued into his estate, setting up to enjoy your meal on his engawa, accompanied by the night’s stars and your two crows watching you from the roof.
Eyeing the rooftop, which Kanzaburō and your fellow Kasugai crow companion had made a home of, Giyū commits to memory the shape of your crow’s beak and the iridescence of its feathers.
You wish each other a good meal, but before Giyū, and subsequently you, can eat, he starts to speak again.
“Why did you do this for me?” His tone is even softer than normal, and he wonders if the reason you hadn’t missed it was that you had been incredibly keen on listening to him.
Turning slightly away from him, Giyū did not miss the way your chopsticks tightened between your fingers and how you subtly retreated within yourself.
“Because I like you, Giyū-san, and it's what you do when you like someone. When you appreciate them for who they are.”
Giyū swore that your admission had made him dizzy; his head felt submerged in a sea of water, though, this time, it delightfully overwhelmed him.
Putting his utensils down, he stood from his sitting position and made his way over to you, refamiliarising himself with your face, which remained turned away from him.
“I”, he slowly began, pausing once to swallow his nerves. “I like you too. Very much so.”
Without thinking too much, or too little, to dissuade himself from doing so, the palm of his right hand stroked the side of your face, guiding you to look at him, and right as you do, he closes the distance between you, his lips affectionately brushing your own.
When you did not pull away, Giyū felt his confidence tenfold, and he felt himself pull you closer for another kiss.
This time, it’s not simply the brush of your lips against his; he needed more than that. The top half of his lips caressed the bottom of yours. You both go for it completely, pulling away only to brush against the lips of the other before pulling each other back in again.
It's soft, it’s tender, it's everything Giyū could ever want and more.
In his fervour, his left hand rubs against your back until it's at your waist, pulling and squeezing you closer. He wants you impossibly closer, from now until always, and the sensation prompts a whimper to escape from your lips. With that, his own moan scratches at the base of his throat, before reaching the surface, vibrating against your lips as he tails after you again for another kiss.
“CAW! Food’s getting cold. Don’t waste, or Kanzaburō will eat!”
With the shock of Kanzaburō’s loud call, the two of you pull away, and Giyū makes quick work to reach past you and pull the dish that Kanzaburō was leaning towards to begin eating.
With a grumpy click of his beak, the crow flies away, although not too far as to serve as a warning.
Watching him for a brief moment, Giyū soon looks back at you, mirroring your own puzzled expression of his crow’s audacity.
Within seconds, you burst out laughing, and Giyū finds that a small smile etches itself on his face.
