He felt it, his own grew wider, his cheeks dimpling in a way that was utterly endearing and heartwrenchingly human.
It was a smile that was so genuine, it was like the sun itself had broken through the dark clouds that perpetually followed Akaza, shining down upon him.
"You're crying."
He said, his voice filled with a gentle concern that made Akaza's heart clench painfully in his chest.
Then he chuckled lightly, the sound resonating like a warm embrace within their private space. "You are, don’t be scared." He confirmed, reaching up to gently wipe away the trail of tears with his thumb.
"It's okay, Akaza. It's okay to show your feelings. It doesn't make you any less of a warrior."
Their embrace grew tighter, the warmth of their bodies a stark contrast to the coldness of the battlefield.
The fire in Kyojuro's eye burned with a gentle determination that seemed to melt away the ice that had encased Akaza's soul for so long. For once, the demon felt understood, accepted, and loved for who he was, not just for his strength or his status.
So he pulled his head down and kissed the top of it, a gesture so tender and loving that it brought a newfound warmth to Akaza's cold existence.
The action was so purely human, so full of affection and care, that it left the demon trembling in his arms.
He knew the demon hadn't felt a gesture like this since he had lost everything he had once cherished.
The warmth of Kyojuro's touch, the softness of his lips, it was a stark contrast to the harshness of the world Akaza had grown accustomed to.
It was as if Kyojuro's love was a gentle flame, licking away at the frost that had enshrouded his heart for centuries.
So he leaned into the embrace, his body instinctively seeking the comfort and solace that he offered, something he hadn't allowed himself to crave for so long.
And that beautiful smile written upon Kyojuro's soft features now. That radiantly shone brighter than the sun. A reverent sight that never failed to make Akaza's heart skip. Flashing even a peek of dimples as those steady thumbs wiped at the the demon's tears.
❝ I Iove you so much, Kyojuro. ❞
Savoring the delightful warmth that so wholly encompassed him within Kyojuro's soothing arms.
He didn't have to be scared...
To anyone else vowing to protect a demon was utterly inane. For a creature far stronger than most humans. To anyone else, it would have been laughable that a demon could ever possibly get frightened...
Yet whenever Kyojuro spoke those words, he wholeheartedly believed in them. Knowing full well that the slayer was a man who would rather die than break a promise....
Akaza couldn't even remember the last time he felt this safe and loved...
....It doesn't make you any less of a warrior...
And those final tender murmurs hit hard. A shot straight to his chest. Something buried so perfectly for so long already beginning to splinter. Neatly shattering the last remenants of his lingering resolve into pieces.
Finding no strength to fight against the crushing weight around his heart nor hide away the desolate tears that fell even harder now, blurring the demon's vision.
Centuries upon centuries of grief and pain, loneliness, spilling out all at once.
Even when Hakuji's memories were still lost, Akaza loathed weaklings. Cowards who used naught but poisons and cheap shots.
.....He loathed being weak...
These desperate desires for more and more strength were second nature by now, despite having nothing left to protect...
What had brought one such as Hakuji, who he believed truly was no different from him in many ways. Trained well, gifted strength, following a path to use it to his best abilities.
What had gone so wrong …
That was a question he dared not ask, for this was a fight he could do little to aid in, other than offer encouragement for him, this was a fight that Akaza had to have on his own. To continue to be as he was, remain as a demon, trapped within the darkness until the end of time itself, as he held doubt that one such as Akaza would accept death nor defeat with a smile on his face, he would fight, forever if it was possible, which in point for Akaza .. seemed to be the case.
Hakuji …
Whomever he had been, whatever he had done, the choices made and the path he walked upon, he knew enough from the battle they thought, from the movements, the skills and the talent, his style of combat was one that was meant to protect others, used for the few against the many, and a man such as Hakuji would never had fallen onto knees and held out his hand for that poison to be dripped into it.
He refused such an odd …
Hakuji would have done so as well, he knew that much …
“Choices, in life .. they can be changed, if you feel as if you have made the wrong one, you know this right?”
As he looked right at him, his only eye remaining shifting to focus onto the demon before him, in the hopes he can understand his words.
It was never too late …
It was never too late to come back home …
Whatever he had done, whatever had happened, whatever made him into a demon, it can be changed, there are stories, legends marked down in his families flame text, of the past, of a man five hundred years ago who bested the demon king in combat and set free a demon from his hold.
Free …
True freedom to make their own choices and decisions in life …
To make amends for what they have done, to try and correct mistakes, to even do good within the world, he knew that to be true, the sun breather, was a great man who knew kindness and how to install it and the line of flames have tried with all they had, to be like him with his teachings, to walk his path as best as they can.
“You can do great things, if you believe in yourself and use your strength, for others.”
How long can he hold out for, how long can Akaza fight against the dark urge within him, how much time did they have before the demon king takes notice and once more unleashes Akaza upon him to try and claim his life, he was not sure, but for the moment …
It hardly mattered when he cupped his face.
Holding him for the moment, as his eye would widen, so used to being the one, who does everything, knows all, takes command of the situation, leads by example, like the flame he represents, once it burns, there was no stopping it, it will burn and how brightly it will shine.
Yet the moment those cold lips touch his, heat exchanged as he kissed back against him, lightly before pushing a little bit more forward, a flicker of the flame, the heat shared, showing him that he can have it all, he can have everything, he can regain his humanity, the pieces of his life, have something for himself worth fighting for, if he believed jus a little bit more in himself.
This raw emptiness that lingered firmly even after hundreds of years..
When Hakuji became a demon and lost his memories, he couldn't even remember who he was fighting for anymore...
The deep set desire to grow stronger still remained, even though he had nothing left to protect anymore...
Not his father. Not Koyuki. Not Keizo nor his dojo...
Nothing.
Akaza was a creature so lonesome. So lost.
Is that why Kyojuro always handled the demon as if he were made of the most fragile and precious glass...?
Had sworn upon his life to protect Akaza?
To protect Hakuji's heart...??
Fractured hues welling up with sudden tears at the very thought.
Of how he always regarded Akaza as a human. Someone so, so, precious and worthy.
How he never looked at the demon with neither fear nor digust. No..
Kyojuro's eyes only bore a warm mix of hope and pride whenever the slayer gazed upon him. Hope that Akaza might one day truly grasp humans and their lives, their struggles. Brilliant pride for everything that he had already accomplished thus far.
❝ Kyojuro... ❞
Clutching tighter still the slayer's steady frame as Kyojuro embraced him. Holding him so closely within those warm arms.
Fractured hues, wrought with so much pain, ghosting up now to meet his gaze. Quiet tears escaping at last as long pink lashes slid closed. Cool lips seeking Kyojuro's in a gentle kiss.
Akin to static electricity. Reverently buzzing so sweetly within his blood. His heart, his soul. Every single time they kissed so wholly took the demon's very breath away.
Every single thing Kyojuro did left him dizzy. Utterly enraptured by the slayer..
His hand reached up, wiping away the last remnants of those tears. A soft chuckle escaping him as he did so, his thumb brushing the side of Yoriichi's cheek.
"You could never be a ruin to me, brother." He murmured, his own voice thick with emotion. "You are the sun to my moon. Without you, I am but a lonely satellite lost in the vastness of space. I need your light to guide me. To warm me."
The smile grew softer, more intimate. It was a smile that contained a world of secrets, a history of pain and joy shared between them alone. A smile that promised to be there through every storm, every battle, every heartache.
He leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving Yoriichi's.
They were the same eyes that had looked at him with admiration and love since they were children, the same eyes that had seen him at his worst and had never once flinched.
Michikatsu's smile grew even more radiant, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He placed a gentle hand under Yoriichi's chin, tilting his face upward so that their gazes met.
The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down his own spine, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.
"I've missed you so much, my sun."
He whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of their hearts beating in unison.
As he loved him if that was possible, as he brushed a stray tear from Yoriichi's cheek. It was a gesture so tender, so loving, that it made him pause for a moment as he felt it, his chest tighten with emotion.
As he wished not for the strongest being within the land to shed any tears.
"Don't you dare say such things …" He murmured, his own voice thick with feeling. "You are my everything. The reason I fight, the reason I breathe. I will never let you be anyone's ruin."
Long lashes sliding closed as those warm thumbs ghosted up. Wiping so gently at the younger's hapless tears. Despite new ones quickly replacing them...
Soft, hushed, sobs escaping....
Michikatsu was the most treasured thing within Yoriichi's life. Always. So Yoriichi would try to have faith in his brother's words.
To have faith in himself...
Despite how adamant their father had been. Telling Yoriichi when he was only two that he was a cursed and unwanted child. That he would only bring desecration to the Tsugikuni name. The shock and trauma had stopped him from speaking entirely until he was seven.
Even now, over a decade later, he could still hear their father's voice crystal clear, constantly reminding him of his place..
Yoriichi would try his very best to replace those bitter and spiteful words with Michikatsu's radiant ones. His warm and kind voice..
In his older brother's tender actions. Whispered promises that he was not alone,
❝ You are the other half of my soul... ❞
This pounding throb, the familiar ache agonizing now. Singing so fiercely within his blood. Washing away everything else. Leaving only this...
Only them within this vast world. Painting every last thought with only Michikatsu. Born within this world. Together.
Of their irrefutable bond..
Of this reverent love, this near crushing desire to never be apart..
Without his beautiful sun by his side, Yoriichi could barely breathe....
HE KNEW SOONER RATHER THAN LATER – HE WOULD REMEMBER –
People like them, born into the world, were born for a reason and a purpose. They were born to use their gifts and talents, to make things better, not for themselves, but for the people that were around them, the people they had befriended, cared for and loved, it was that strength they held that was meant to be used to protect them.
Someone like him - someone so strong and well trained, he wondered for so long while he waited here for him, what had happened to him, he felt a connection for a moment, as they fought and he looked into his eyes, of how easily, simple mistakes can undo a lifetime of make amends and trying to walk the true and noble path.
He knew he had walked it once, long before he himself had come into the world, and for one reason or the other. Mistakes had been made, but fighting someone like him and getting to know him, he knew deep down within himself – someone like that, a mirror image of himself almost, would never have freely become a demon on his own, he would never have taken the offer to become, weaker, to regress and remove all that he had done.
“Hakuji ..”
As he turned around from the cherry blossom tree and looked over at him, waiting this long for him, was worth it to get to finally settle his eyes on the man he was, not the monster he had become as he slowly breathed out and approached him, light and gentle steps taken as he walked towards him and stopped just a little before him and smiled at him.
“Don’t be afraid ..”
As he placed his hand upon his colorful hair and playfully ruffled it. He had fought so well, he had done so much, he had broken free from the demon king himself and made his stand and defied him, what so many wished they could do, but could not, he had shown true strength, he had shown what humanity could do, when one remembers, who they had been and why they had chased after strength in the first place.
“Here ..”
The offer was made for him, as he placed out his hand for him to take or to reject, the same offer he had made to him a long time ago, that would have brought them both into the darkness, here and now he was offering his hand out to him, to come into the light, to feel the warmth that was offered out to him and to accept and walk a new path with him.
“Hakuji, don’t you want, another chance, to do it all over again, but this time .. do it right, now it is my turn, to protect you, if you will let me.”
Loneliness
Just the mere word alone jolted Akaza to the very core. Almost instantly alighting this familiar ache resounding within him. This feeling that he bore even before he became a demon. To those bittersweet days of foolish Hakuji.
Whom held nary an inkling of regret nor fear of the true weight of his actions. It was to help his father, after all. He cared naught no matter how times the magistrate caught him, beat him, or branded him with yet another pickpocket line tattoo.
Not even when his father killed himself upon hearing Hakuji had caught and struck down yet again. Not wishing to be a burden upon his son any longer...
From that day forward, Hakuji was filled but naught but rage, grief, and violence. Ceaseless, endless, loneliness. Blaming this entire stupid world for turning its back on his father. Desperate and grief-stricken confusion as to why his father could blame himself for confiding his struggles and his pain with Hakuji. Why his father never once blamed this shitty world like he did...
Furiously careening towards the neighboring dojo whom held only weak people who poisoned wells before brutally slaughtering every single one there with his bare fists...
Despicable weak people...
By the time Muzan found him, staggering away from the dojo absolutely covered with rubied crimson gore and offered to make him a demon, Hakuji just didn't care about anything anymore....
Including his name...
Until he met Kyojuro. There was something oddly soothing, bubbling up within every deep abyss and crack upon his soul, healing his heart little by little each time the slayer called him that.
Sharing it with Kyojuro alone. Knowing that he would protect Hakuji's heart. Even if it cost him life.
❝ Somehow, ever since we first fought, I've had this feeling that....you would save me Kyojuro... ❞
Fractured hues, wrought with so much pain, ghosting up to met his gaze. Indigo dipped fingers reaching out now for the slayer. Quiet tears escaping at last as long pink lashes slid closed. Warm lips seeking Kyojuro's in a gentle kiss...
His smile grew even more brilliant as he felt the smaller shiver against him, his body reacting to the sudden influx of warmth and affection. His own arms tightened around his younger twin, his thumb rubbing small, comforting circles on Yoriichi’s back as he whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
Words of reassurance and love.
The softness of his brother’s skin under his fingertips was something he had dreamt about for years. To hold him so close, to feel his heart beating in time with his own, it was almost too much to handle.
Yet he did, with a gentle strength that belied the power he had.
The smile grew wider as he felt Yoriichi’s body relax against him, the tension draining away like a river receding after a storm. It was a smile that seemed to say.
“You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
It was a promise that was as solid as the steel of the swords they both wielded.
Their eyes met, and in that moment, the air was charged with an emotion so potent it could have set the very fabric of the world alight. It was an acknowledgment of the unspoken truths that lay between them, the love that had been festering in the shadows for so long, waiting for the right moment to bloom.
Again, his smile grew brighter, his eyes sparkling with a mischief that had long been buried beneath the weight of his duty and his pain. He knew what this meant for both of them, the implications of this single act of affection and the ripples it would send through the lives of those around them.
Yet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation, as if a cage that had held his heart hostage had finally been unlocked.
He leaned in closer to Yoriichi, his breath warm against the younger man's neck as he whispered.
"You are the only one who ever truly knew me, my light, my other half."
His voice was low and gentle, a stark contrast to the fierce warrior he had become. His words were a confession, a declaration of a bond that went beyond the typical ties of family.
Now, his smile grew more tender, his eyes softening as he watched Yoriichi’s reaction.
He had missed this, missed the way his brother’s eyes would light up at the simplest of gestures, the way he would lean into his touch like a cat seeking warmth. It was a stark reminder of the innocence that had been stolen from them both.
The cruel hand of fate had forced them down different paths, but in that moment, all that mattered was that they had found their way back to each other.
The moon was high in the sky now, casting a silver glow over the room, bathing them in a soft, ethereal light. It was as if the universe itself was giving its blessing to their reunion.
He felt his own heart swell with a love so profound it was almost painful, a love that had been buried under layers of guilt and regret.
This time, Yoriichi would not let go of his brother's hand.
So grateful from the bottom of his aching heart that they were able to reunite. Even those ten long years seemed meager now that the brilliant sun of Yoriichi's small and dim world was back. Blissfully tucked away within the familiar safety of each other's arms.
Warm tears quietly fell. As those steady hands rubbed calming circles upon the younger's back. As the soothing timbre of Michikatsu's voice rang so sweetly within one ear.
The deafening ache in Yoriichi's chest near screaming now.
❝ ...I'm so scared, Aniue...I don't want to be your ruin like Father said... ❞
Even now, over a decade later, there was still a very large part of Yoriichi that was utterly terrified of bringing only disaster to Michikatsu, just as their father often said.
That their short-lived bliss would be so cruelly snatched away, and it would be all Yoriichi's fault. Again..
That he himself would be the sole cause of a most grief-stricken and agonizing death for his precious elder brother. The other half of his own soul..
Though truly joyous upon their meeting once more, at long last. Yoriichi was so scared of getting close again. Of touching Michikatsu...
So fearful of even just reaching for his hand...
Burying tear stained features against Michikatsu's warm shoulder...
It had taken some time for those hapless tears to finally stop. For Yoriichi's trembling frame to relax completely.
Sitting there in a daze, softly sniffling, utterly adrift in his older brother's tender actions. Whispered promises that he was not alone, that he was loved. Desired. Cherished.
Michikatsu gazing at Yoriichi now with a gentle smile, as if the younger hung the very sun, every single star up within the luminouscent sky every night....
There was no amount of strength within the world that could turn what was to come. He had lived for far too long. It had become unnatural. The entire reason for everything he had done, almost forgotten. As he wished to attain strength like no other human had ever attained before, to reach that level of his sibling and to be able to stand at his side and call himself his brother and actually feel relieved, to be able to know.
He earned it all on his own.
Yet he hadn’t - had he? He had done unspeakable things. Horrifying things to reach where he was, twisting, turning, changing, a human. Could he call himself that, when he has become the very thing he had sworn centuries ago, to seek out and destroy, that he had turned his blade up friends, upon innocents, upon his own flesh and blood. The mirror image of himself from centuries ago.
His brother, who had aged gracefully and had not wavered at all.
That imagery had haunted him each and every single day of his life. The last time he saw him, he looked like, he had lived a life worth living. He had suffered heartache, he had been hurt, he knew sorrow, but that face told him everything he needed to know, the opposite was the truth as well. He had felt warmth, his heart had fluttered for others, he had healed, he had known joy, he had smiled, laughed. Things he had not done in so long. Yet it did not change the fact that he had committed the greatest crime of all.
He had killed his own brother.
Not with his newly forged blade, made from his flesh, his bone, his blood, not from the godly powers that the demon king had done. All of that failed. A harsh slap to the face, a would to his pride. Everything he had done had been pointless. His brother eclipsed him and all others. Countless decades and he was as strong and fast as ever. To the point that the contest, ended the moment it started. He had drawn out his blade, all the gifts, all the skills, the blood art, the eyes that granted him true sight, and yet he could not see him, as he nipped his throat and crossed by him, carved it deep and through, almost beheading him, one more movement, and he would have died.
A broken heart was what killed his brother.
He had been the one to break it. A reason why he had not, looked at his reflection in countless centuries. Was his brother so horrified and disgusted with him? Sop repulsed at what he had become, that his heart just stopped, at the sight of how far his brother had fallen? Sometimes he wished he died that night with him, perhaps that was his fate, he had merely not been strong enough, to stop and let go.
But he finally has let go.
It had not hurt, he did not know, why he had been so afraid of it in the first place. As he just crumbled to ash, one world departed, another entered as he was within the darkness, each step forward, he could feel them, all around him. The cries of the innocents, the slayers he had killed, the people he had cut down, all of them there, pulling at him, as he pushed through them all.
“Let go of me –” As he cried out, narrowing his eyes for a moment, him. He could see him there, within the distance, he could see his brother. As he moved quickly, not longer content to walk, no longer scared, no longer afraid of the world around him, the endless eyes upon him, the expectations, the endless weight that was on his shoulders, crushing him every single waking moment of his life, he merely left it all behind.
“Brother, don’t leave me, don’t run away from me, not again, I .. I am scared, I always have been scared when you are not around.”
A small little burst of energy, to run towards him, to try and reach out for him and catch up to him. No matter what he did in his life, no matter where he went, how hard he trained, how much he pushed himself, he was never able to match him, he was never able to be anything other than the worthless one of there team, the dead weight, the one who was protected, when he was meant to be the one protecting him, as he reached out and managed to grab onto him, almost slipped and falling as he held him tightly.
“I am sorry, for everything I have done, I never meant to hurt you, push you away, I never meant the things I said, I cannot take them back, but I need you to forgive me.”
With that he flung his arms around him and held onto him tightly. Squeezing him a little bit. This was not forever. This was not how this worked. Once more their pathways would take them away from one another. One would go to heaven, the other would go to hell. Once more they would be apart, this time forever, but he needed his brother to know, that he loved him, he always had loved him, he always would love him, he just failed miserably at being a good big brother to him, that was his legacy, the legacy of failure.
“I just wanted you to know, there was not a single day in my life, that ever went by, that I did not think about you, I was a worthless human, a pathetic demon, I never destroyed, to be the brother, to someone as perfect as you.”
The sun and the moon. Everything made sense when they were together. Akin to two planets so perfectly within orbit of one another. Forever bound by this immutable gravitational pull. Linked together until the end of time.
And everything, everything, written there within Yoriichi's meaningless and pathetic story was so much easier to bear. With Michikatsu by his side. His older brother was such a serene sensation. Of coming home. Of finally resting. His weary feet. His aching heart. Every time those steady arms swept around him. Shielding Yoriichi from this vast world. Bestowing a warm spring rain of soft kisses upon his brow. Upon porcelain cheeks.
Baring witness to the crippling burdens and hardships that Michikatsu so wholly drowned himself within. This ceaseless, aching, desire, irrefutably gripping his brother at his core. To be worthy of standing by Yoriichi's side...
Of being called his brother...
Just why then, not once, did he see he already was?
From the day that they born within this world together. All Michikatsu had done was protect him. Love him and cherish him and accept him. Since their father could barely even look upon his youngest son without disgust sharply budding within those frigid hues. Teaching Yoriichi how to read and write. How to play games and fly a kite. Deftly tearing through the manor grounds far away from prying eyes. Hand in hand. As Michikatsu smiled brighter than the sun.
Sneaking into the worn hut tucked far from the main house that consisted of Yoriichi's room. Bringing him warmer blankets, candy, toys. Drawing together sprawled upon that three tatami floor. Sometimes even managing to hide some of his own dinner to bring to Yoriichi later as well. Father had sharp eyes, as did his men. He was not a fool. Countless times he had beaten his brother senseless just for talking to the younger. But he never even once took it to heart. Only merely ducking away to Yoriichi's room that same night. Pale features marred in maps of angry crimson bruises, but his smile never once faded. Sleeping together within the younger's thread bare futon until the first rays of the breaking dawn spilled through shuttered windows. When Michikatsu would be forced to return back to his own room before their father noticed.
❝ You have always been my sun, Aniue... ❞
Since the very day they were born as brothers. As identical twins. Michikatsu was his everything. There was simply nothing within this world that would ever make him wish to cast away that bond. Which was why Yoriichi never had thrown away that handmade flute. Even if everyone else called his brother a monster. A traitor to everything he had once stood for. A blight upon humanity itself. Yoriichi could not bring himself to discard the last remaining link he had left...
To those bittersweet nostalgic days..
❝ You have nothing to apologize for, Aniue. I will always forgive you. All you have ever done is protect me....You cared for me and you taught me when our father refused and hated me. You never even once treated me like I was cursed, no matter how many times he tried to remind you......You have always, always, been more than worthy to be my older brother from the day we were born.... ❞
Mirroring now those desolate tears that escaped the older, silently falling down porcelain cheeks. As warm arms gently wrapped around that quivering frame.
❝ ...If you have to go to hell, then I will go with you. As long as we are together, it will be okay. I am not afraid...❞
HE WAS THE SUN. All of his life, as a human and a demon. He had never been able to find anyone that came anywhere close to Yoriichi. That was what it was all about wasn’t it? That was the reason for his countless cruel and harsh actions.
His arrogance had blinded him, that he had gained what he wanted when they had finally fought. Yoriichi had shown him, true strength. And even then with those eyes, the access to the same world Yoriichi had owned and conquered, Yoriichi - without eyes, without sight, on death's door, had crushed him and stomped him into the ground like he was nothing. Because a demon was nothing. He could not see it there and then, he could not understand, that he had given up the things that made him special, and traded them for nothing more than physical strength, that would never take him to Yoriichi level.
Nearly five hundred years ..
He had lived, and searched. He had walked the entire country a thousand times and fought many battles, but without Yoriichi there, without Yoriichi alive, it all became so empty and hollow. The strongest man alive was gone and nothing was ever the same. No one else came close to Yoriichi, even when he turned on demons and offered blood battles to kill his own kind, none of them were anything like Yoriichi, they had become too weak. He himself had become too strong and Yoriichi words stayed with him. It was about handing it all over to others, spreading your strength and knowledge, teaching and guiding.
Not to horde it all to yourself.
He had become far too powerful, no one else could come anywhere near him.
None were anywhere near his level, none came close. A thousand blades had been taken and all of them were so dull compared to Yoriichi own. Nights alone. He would sit there within an infinity fortress, that could craft anything for him, build a world within a world for him, bring any human he wished to be before him, but there was nothing he wished for, nothing he wanted, he had got his wish, he had become the best, but without Yoriichi it was hollow. It was the reason he wanted it so badly, he had forgotten his first promise he had ever made, spoken to Yoriichi that he would become, strong enough to protect him, no one would ever hurt them again nor tear them apart, they would be able, to become samurai together and make the land a better place for people who cannot protect themselves.
He was disgusted with himself.
“I hurt you so much Yoriichi, so very much ..”
His actions taken, where for himself and only for himself. He had walked away from them all, betrayed them all, stabbed them all in the back to serve the demon king. Yoriichi. He had hurt him so badly with his actions, but it was the only way. He was dying. He was scared, afraid, terrified that he was nothing like Yoriichi and he would not be able to overcome this sickness eating him alive, he didn’t want to die so young, not when there where a thousand more stories to be told for them, but the cost, was a high one and it had taken everything away from him.
And at the same time, he had made the choice himself, none had forced him.
He was not fit, to call himself Yoriichi brother.
“I have everything to apologize for, Yoriichi. The things I did, leaving you alone to deal with it, having you banished for my sins and crimes. I was scared Yoriichi, I didn’t – want to die, I didn’t want my life to end, when I knew I had so much more to give. I thought I could be different. Than all others who took that blood, I retained myself, I followed me same code, and I was different, I was worse, because I knew what I was doing.”
Oh, he cried. Pouring out the truth to Yoriichi, after thinking about him, for five hundred years. There was such a thing, as living for too long, and he had lived, far too long, the moment Yoriichi died, he died himself, all that remained, was a monster in his place. As he squeezed him tightly and buried his head into his shoulder.
“Yoriichi ….” A slight hesitation within his voice, a small shake, and a step forward to not let him go. “You don’t deserve a fate, your – too good for such a place, you have to let me go.”
He had never once treated him like he was a calamity. Michikatsu cared for Yoriichi and he treasured him. He never felt pity nor digust...
He loved Yoriichi in a way that their Father never would. A cursed and unwanted child who would only bring ruin to the Tsugikuni name.
Visting so often the worn down hut far from the main estate that was Yoriichi's room. Sleeping together in his threadbare futon until the first cracks of dawn peeked through broken shuttered windows. When he would be forced to return to his own room before their father noticed. Drawing together sprawled upon that three tatami mat floor...
The brightest light within his small world was Michikatsu.
The only times Yoriichi ever felt worthy and not a blight upon this beautiful world was whenever Michikatsu looked at him. Gazed at him with a smile brighter than the sun.
He never minded his presence or his lack of speech. Nor the static expressions always painted upon the younger's face...
His older brother was shockingly skilled at detecting his emotions regardless.
His lack of smiles and laughter never once deterred Michikatsu from playing games with him, teaching him how to fly a kite.
His lack of expressions written of grief and agony. No tears falling even when his heart was breaking. Michikatsu somehow always saw his pain nonetheless and just stop in whatever they were doing to tug Yoriichi into a hug. Reach out for his hand..
❝ You have also saved me, Aniue.....Countless times. The only times I have ever felt worthy in my life and not cursed was when you look at me.. ❞
Steady arms squeezing tighter now around Michikatsu's trembling frame.
Muted tears freely falling now from the younger.
❝ We are finally together again after so long. I can't bear the thought of being torn apart already.... ❞
He froze for the moment as he pulled back just slightly, a soft blush painting his cheeks. He looked so utterly surprised yet so incredibly contented. Like a newfound warmth had just seeped into his very soul.
And he... he couldn’t help but smile.
A genuine smile that lit up the room.
A smile so bright it could rival the sun itself.
He took a second again and felt his own heart race in his chest as he watched, taking in every minute detail of his brother’s face.
The way his eyes sparkled with joy. The gentle curve of his lips. The way his entire face lit up. It was like watching a blooming flower. Delicate yet powerful. Beautiful beyond words.
Michikatsu’s smile was a rare sight, but when it did appear, it was like watching the sun rise after a particularly dark night.
It was a beacon of hope, a promise of a brighter day to come. It was a smile that could warm the coldest of hearts. And in that moment, it was directed solely at the light of the world.
The corners of his mouth tugged upwards, his eyes crinkling slightly at the sides, revealing the youthful spark that lay behind the weight of his heavy burdens. It was a smile that didn’t just brighten the room; it illuminated the very essence of their bond.
He sensed it, his heart swelled with warmth, feeling the weight of their shared love and the unspoken understanding that flowed between them like an ancient river, untouched by the harsh realities of the world outside their sanctuary.
Michikatsu, the moon to Yoriichi’s sun, pulled him into a tight embrace.
The warmth that enveloped him was more than just physical; it was a warmth that seemed to reach into the very depths of his soul. It was a warmth that said.
"You are not alone." And "I will always be here for you."
And as he kiss touched the top of his head, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. It was as if the sun itself had kissed him, a gentle reassurance that the light of their bond would never truly die, no matter how dark the world outside might become.
Their hearts pounded in sync, echoing the rhythm of the world around them. The whispers of the night grew quieter as they held onto each other, as if even the stars knew to respect this sacred moment of unity.
There arms wrapped around his brother’s waist, clinging to the source of that warmth, as if by doing so he could absorb the very essence of his brother’s unyielding hope and courage.
Unable to help the way it made Yoriichi's heart skip a beat now.
It had so long since he last bore witness to Michikatsu's true smile. Back within those bittersweet nostalgic days of their childhood. Even when he slipped into the battered hut of the younger's room with his face alitt with dark bruises. His beautiful smile, akin to a thousand diamonds within the sun, never faltered or slipped. It seemed, around Yoriichi at least, his brother was always smiling. Once stagnated time finally moved, finding one another after ten long years.
It was one of the very first things he noticed after they were reunited. Michikatsu now wore only half smiles, smirks, or scowls. Soft and sad frowns with furrowed brows. Just when had Michikatsu stopped smiling genuinely??
The same radiant grins that instantly lit up the room and never failed to warm Yoriichi's heart as child was so rare now.
If Yoriichi had stayed instead of running away the night their mother died....
Might Yoriichi have been able to save his older brother's smile?
Yet another thing that Yoriichi would never forgive himself for...
He was so gracious that Michikatsu's true smile wasn't completely gone..
Such a celestial rare sight bestowed upon him now only made the deafening ache deep within Yoriichi's chest get even stronger.
It was a gesture of hope. Just like his flute. Unspoken promises to never part. That he would always find him. That he would always protect him.
That Yoriichi would never be alone again...
Crimson hues burning now, suddenly welling with quiet tears.
Heat so familiar ensnaring Yoriichi. As those gentle arms swept up, tugging him closer still in a steady embrace. As Michikatsu kissed the top of long brown locks.
Basking within his older brother's radiant presence. His comfort. His warmth..
He recognized that wholly encumbering look. Budding with deep embers of thunderous kindness...
Aching like molten thorns, buried within the younger's pounding heart....
Breathing in deep, every soft spoken word of comfort that so reverently dripped from those parted kips. Reveling within the expressions written there upon Michikatsu's face.
Of bearing everything within this world upon those lithe shoulders.
The godly grace, the radiant charity, of his older brother remained unchanged. Even after all these years. Every single time Michikatsu beamed at him, with a smile akin to a thousand diamonds within the sun. It was still the same. Those warm hues that never once bore hatred nor contempt towards Yoriichi.
Nestled back within those bittersweet nostalgic days. Every time that gentle gaze ghosted upon the younger. He felt like, maybe, just maybe...
He bore worth within this beautiful world.
Perhaps maybe, he did not curse nor taint, destroy everything before him. Like the horrendous calamity he had been deigned since birth.
Leaning in nearer and nearer still, closing the small distance between them now.
❝ Every time you look at me, Aniue.....somehow I feel...As if....even I too, am worth something... ❞
Long lashes ghosting closed. Drawing in so achingly close, the thunderous melody of his racing heart drowning out the very world before them. Heated lips met in a gentle kiss.
To a great many, they are identical. They look the same, they sound the same, at times they even behave the same.
With childlike wonder and innocence at the world around them, blinded by the truth at how hopeless the situation was they all find themselves within.
That they are the two, who believe that a difference can be made, that the end of this plight the land and people find themselves within, can be ended.
If they worked together. As a single being, to put the two halves of their souls together to make one unstoppable force of nature to fight back against the calamity and remove it from the world.
To make it as if it had never been here, that it was a mistake, an accident, something gone wrong and it was never meant to be.
Like them in a way –
They are not meant to be.
Thousands upon thousands and prayers, poured into a single being, of all those who have been killed or left to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives, with those they love and care for most of all taken from them.
Yet one got the prayers, the hope, the love of the people and the other – the sorrow, the hatred of them all, splitting them into what they are now.
They were not the same, one eclipsed the other, in every single way imaginable and had it all, while the other had to fight, every single moment of his life to come anywhere even close to the other and even then, a struggle to even look at him at times.
To see how brightly he truly shined.
“I gaze upon you in wonder, and find myself asking, how can you truly exist in such a dark world.”
As he sighed and remained with him.
A puzzle he could not figure out. How could one always hold hope, within a hopeless situation. How could someone keep going, when there was never going to be an end to this. How could the other half of his soul, smile, laugh and bare to be anywhere near him - knowing the things he has done.
The paths he has taken.
To try and catch up to him, to just be able to walk a little bit behind him, would make everything he has done and wished to do, truly worth all the pain and misery he has had to endure.
“You are the only light, worth protecting from the darkness.”
A heavy sigh left him, as he placed two fingers upon the forehead of the other, for a gentle and soft tap against him, as he looked up and saw the small lean forward.
He was unworthy –
To be anywhere near such a being, to sit before a source of power like this, felt so mind numbingly soul destroying. As he heard the thud and sound of his own heart, and decided there and then, to no longer refuse it and deny it’s calling, as he acted upon it and moved, and moved, until his lips touched the others and welcomed that gentle warmth.
It was so wholly impossible to imagine a world without Michikatsu in it...
A world that bore not the most sacred other half of Yoriichi's soul seemed a place far too barren and lonely..
Despite being born a cursed child. Despite knowing full well all the struggle and the pain that he caused his older brother year after year. Yoriichi was truly elated that they had been born. Together. Eternally bound by the deep connections of being twins. Identical twins.
Their hands, their bodies, their hearts. They always fit together so neatly. Akin to two perfect puzzle pieces. Like magnets always drawn together, seeking one another. There was no other place Yoriichi desired to be than beside his very own sun. Fingers intertwined. Sitting side by side. Watching the brilliant lights of the dawn just peeking over the horizon.
A thick kimono shared between them, draped around their shoulders to stave off the budding chill of the night as they watched maps of luminescent starss painted upon the night sky...
❝ Aniue... ❞
They were so much stronger together than apart. A fact they both knew all too well. There was nothing in this vast world that consumed more of Yoriichi's thoughts and heart than Michikatsu. The sheer depth of this love. A feeling that was painful at times, true, but one that was still so sweet.
So right...
He was so grateful to be younger brother to such a radiant and kind sun. Who vowed to always protect him. Be it against their father's cruel hands or the world itself. Clumsily crafting a wooden flute for Yoriichi. As if to seal that very promise for all entirety.
The bittersweet ache within Yoriichi's chest deafening now. Suffocating. As Michikatsu leaned in dangerously near as well. Meeting warm lips with a gentle kiss.
The words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the gentle rhythm of his soft breathing. He looked to see the demons eyes searched for his own, looking for a reaction, something, anything. But he remained still, his hand never pausing in its tender ministrations.
Hakuji …
The name that he had once been known as, another time, another life, he held little doubt that he and Hakuji would have made for wonderful friends, that they would have made for the best of friends, they seemed to be worlds apart.
Born in different eras, the passage of time separated them, but he could sense, Hakuji was a man like him, someone who had talent, power and strength, who had friends and family, people to look after, with strength to do the right thing.
But Hakuji made a mistake and strayed from the path, strength was never meant to be used in revenge, it was never meant to lash out and harm people it was always meant to be used to protect people.
"I know it seems hard," he whispered, the quiet words seeming to echo through the room, "But I believe in the good that lies within you."
He felt the demon's chest heaved, the weight of his words sinking in. No doubt he had heard such things before, but they had always rung hollow. From hopefully him, however, they sounded like a promise, a beacon of light in the darkness that had been his existence.
“Demon … it is just a word, it only holds meaning and value, if we grant it that.”
His hand remained on Akaza's cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of his jaw, and the demon leaned into the touch, craving the warmth, the connection, the acceptance it brought.
His eyes never left his, filled with a gentle understanding that made Akaza's heart ache. He knew that he had seen his past, knew the monster he had been, and yet, the man offered him hope.
“You've suffered enough, Akaza. Life is full of mistakes, but that doesn't define you. It's what you do after that does.” His voice was a balm, soothing the jagged edges of his soul. The demon's breath hitched as he digested the words, feeling the weight of his past sins shift ever so slightly.
Mistakes, the very essence of humanity.
A concept that Akaza had observed but never truly understood it seems.
Humans stumbled and fell, only to rise again, each fall a stepping stone towards growth. Yet, here he was, a creature of the night, bound by a curse, paralyzed by his own past. He envied their ability to learn, to evolve, to become better.
“Every single one of us, we all have our share of darkness, Akaza. Humans are not born perfect; we are born to learn from our mistakes. The very essence of growth lies in the trials we face.” His voice remained steady, a pillar of conviction in the quiet room.
He watched him, as he swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. It was a revelation that hit him like a bolt of lightning.
Could the demon truly leave behind his bloody past?
The lives he had claimed?
The fear he had sown?
“It's never too late to do the right thing, Akaza.” He spoke with a quiet confidence that seemed to resonate within the very walls of the room. “Even in the darkest of moments, there's a spark of light, waiting for you to find it. Our families and loved ones, they are not truly gone, they are always with us, even now, watching over us, worrying for us, trying to guide us on the right path, and you have strayed so far, you have fallen into the darkness, take my hand and let me pull you out of it.”
A demon child. He'd heard those words so many times before. Receiving his third pick pocket line at only the age of 11. Who bore nary a flicker of remorse nor repentance no matter how many times he was beaten and brutally punished.
Hakuji had tried his very best. In the end, however, he was not able to protect anyone. Hold on to a single thing. Those times throughout his tedious life when those truly precious to him were in grave danger, Hakuji wasn't even there.
❝ I have to get stronger... ❞
Stronger so he could run away with the wallets he stole.
Stronger so that he could beat the people who came back seeking revenge.
His father heard had he had been caught again and had hung himself in the hopes of freeing Hakuji.
From the burden of his sickly body.
Not wishing to live upon medicine bought with stolen money....
That wasn't the case at all. He was Hakuji's entire world. He could never be a burden, so why did he have to apologize?? He didn't do anything wrong. Couldn't he see it didn't matter if they broke his bones or whipped him. Hakuji happily endured it. Even if it lasted a hundred years...
He would have died for his father. So why did he die? Why did they have to live like total shit??
This shitty world - these people within it ccould all just fuck off.
Wholly consumed by rage and despair Hakuji had blindly lashed out, ferociously taking down grown men nearly twice his size in an instant.
In the end, when Muzan had first stumbled upon him years later, all Hakuji had done was bloody his Master's precious Soryuu style and decimate his father's last wish.
For Hakuji to start over his life anew.
By the time Muzan found him, once ivory gi now ruby red from savagely butchering all the students in the neighboring Kenjutsu dojo with his bare fists in revenge, Hakuji just didn't care about anything anymore...
He hated weak people. The kind who poison wells and never fought honorably face to face. Despicable weak people...
He became a demon and lost all his memories, but the urge to grow stronger still remained deeply rooted within Akaza.
Even though he didn't have anything left to protect anymore.....
The words from Akaza are a mere whisper at first, as it seemed that he took a shaky breath to gather his thoughts. He remained steadfastly silent, his gaze never once wavering from the distressed young man, for that was what he saw.
Not a demon.
Not upper moon three.
Not a killer and a monster.
All he saw was a man, a human in pain and that needed his help.
He knew that speaking of such things was never easy, especially for someone as closed off as Akaza had been.
Memories of his own loss swelled up inside him, of the day he had found his mother lifeless in their small home, her body a canvas for the golden artistry of the sun. It was a pain that had shaped him, a sorrow that had driven him to become the man he was now.
He knew that pain intimately, and seeing it reflected in the eyes of others that he cherished was a dagger to his very core.
His mother, she had been a gentle soul, the only light in his early years. But the harsh realities of existence had stolen her away as well, leaving him and his younger brother to fend for themselves.
Her death had been swift and cruel, a victim of the fragile way life was, but she had taught him everything he needed, his greatest teacher and inspiration on the person he wished to become.
It was the night that had changed his life forever, the night he had made a promise to his grieving sibling.
A promise to protect him, to be the shield that she could no longer be. It was a vow etched into his soul, a silent pact that had guided him through the darkest of days and the most brutal of battles.
Yet, even as he had watched his brother grow from a toddler into a child, he had never been able to shake the fear of losing him too.
He had power and strength, he wished to protect everyone.
Even his fathe, whor had once been a mighty warrior, a man feared and respected. But grief had consumed him like a disease, turning him into a shadow of his former self.
He had sought solace in the bottle, and in the end, it had taken everything from him—his dignity, his strength, and ultimately, his life. The stench of sake had permeated their home, a constant reminder of the man he had lost.
“And it was used against you …” He said, his warm palms, cup his features and rest there, pressing in against his cold flesh and offering him warmth. “Whatever you did.” He whispered. “It is never too late.” As he leaned in and rested his forehead against his own. “To correct your mistakes.”
❝ I feel like such a hypocrite, Kyojuro. I do not want to kill anymore. I don't want to be bound to that man anymore. I love the way you always speak to me, like I am a human. How you have never been terrified of me. Yet I am too afraid to ever even imagine trying to break this curse and become a human again.... ❞
He couldn't help but melt even more at the gentle ministrations upon his features. Long peach lashes sliding closed. As those warm digits traced every indigo mark. Cupping, tenderly squeezing, ruby dusted cheeks. Combining through pink locks, massaging his scalp.
❝ Would Hakuji completely consume me? Or would it just be still me in Hakuji's empty body? I don't know who or what I would even be.... ❞
Pale brows scrunching lightly now, a crooked smile tugged on the demon's lips. Chuckling softly through the quiet tears that still fell.
❝ Not to mention all those tedious things humans have to every single day. No thank you. ❞
Dull amber hues snapping open now. Kyojuro leaning even closer, resting that wide brow upon the upper moon's forehead. Meeting the demon's eyes with an unwavering gaze and again Akaza just let go. Allowing Kyojuro to comfort and soothe him. Ease away the hurt and despair within Akaza...
Akin to poison buried so deep...
in his many centuries as a demon Akaza never once thought of himself as good.
And yet, the manner of which Kyojuro spoke to him, the way he touched him. The way in which he peered at Akaza with only a look mixed with pride and hope. It make Akaza feel, truly feel, like he might be saved. That he was someone worth looking at.
❝ Hakuji was deemed a demon even long before I was born... ❞
A person, just like Kyojuro, born with a strength unlike most others. Kyojuro was a humble and noble man. Surely using his innate gifts to help the weak. Like he defended a gravely injured Tanjirou the very night they met. Saved him from Akaza's impending fists.
And Hakuji? He had used his strength in the only way he could at that time. Within the depths of the slums of the village. He had tried his best. It mattered naught how many beatings he took from the magistrate. Nor how many indigo lines that marked him as a criminal they tattooed on his forearms. As long as he could buy medicine for his father. Food. He could not care less about the consequences that befell him.
Until it had all come careening down. As he returned home after getting a fair amount of money. Bursting through that decaying shoji door. To find his father strung up upon the ceiling.
Lifelessly swaying.....
Why do sick people...feel the desire to apologize so much?
It wasn't their fault. Yet his father needlessly, ceaselessly, repeated apologies saying things that Hakuji could not even comprehend. That Hakuji should live his life for himself from now on. Yet protecting his father....
It was his life. His sole purpose within this shitty world.
And after that he was....lost.
Utterly adrift.
From there on his tattered soul only grew more and more cracked. So wholly consumed in misplaced anger. As he aimlessly wandered the streets. Looking for victims for his grief and his wrath....
❝ When I was child....Father died too.....He killed himself... ❞
He stood frozen for a heartbeat, absorbing the moment.
The demon's voice floated to him, a soft murmur carried by the breeze, laced with sorrow. He felt the weight of that grief and made the decision to step closer, his warm hands reaching out to trace gentle circles on the demon's back, drawing attention to the connection between them.
He understood suffering all too well.
He recognized the sting of failure.
He had cradled friends and loved ones as they slipped away in his arms.
Pain was a familiar companion in his life, yet it had never driven him to shatter his essence or abandon his humility. He took pride in his humanity.
If the demon struck the man, it would bleed; if he embraced him, it would weep. These feelings were not to be ashamed of; they served as a reminder of the delicate weave of existence, where pain and suffering coexisted with joy and love.
In that fleeting moment with the demon, he yearned to share the kindness of humanity, to show what it meant to be vulnerable in sadness. He wrapped his arms around the demon, pulling it close, anchoring it as if it were a ship lost in a stormy sea. He feared that if he let go, the demon would sink into the abyss, lost forever.
He had no reason to fret; he was determined to keep his grip firm.
“What happened next?” he inquired, careful not to pressure him.
He could share his thoughts now or later; there was no rush.
That was the straightforward reality—he could choose to speak at this moment or save it for another time. For now, he concentrated on holding him close, his hand gently cradling his face, fingers gliding over the intricate tattoos that adorned his cheek. He brushed through the soft, tousled hair, slicking it back with a tender touch.
The demon was safe in his presence; he had no intention of causing harm. There was no need for defenses, no reason for worry. He wouldn’t betray the trust placed in him; he was not that kind of person.
How he wanted to speak more, fervently saying Kyojuro's name in desperation and unyielding sorrow. And yet, he found he could not. As words died upon a heavy tongue. Caught within his closing throat..
Despite being a wretched creature of the night, whom only took and took. Despite his immutable bonds to Muzan and Akaza's many sins. Kyojuro had right from the very start regarded him as a human. Had called a Akaza a good person.
Had sworn with such genuine delight that he would protect Hakuji's heart. With a smile as brilliant and warm as the sun.
Heavily sniffling now, as those heated digits drifted suddenly. Gently cupping the upper moon's soaked cheeks. Brushing at the weighty tears that still fell in a ceaseless deluge. Ghosting, tracing every indigo mark upon his face. As if trying to memorize each and every one. Brushing idly through short windswept bangs of pink.
This strange power that Akaza long since discovered in Kyojuro. How mere words, promises, whispers spoken lowly within one crimson dusted ear could instantaneously, mercilessly, melt both Akaza's demon heart and human heart within the slayer's vast warmth..
A boundless sea of adoration and tenderness only making Akaza even more relaxed within Kyojuro's hold. A solemn comfort so achingly familiar for Hakuji. Although he couldn't remember exactly when and whom with....
Utterly adrift within this chaotic tide of ( human? ) emotions. Fractured hues burning fiercely with static tears. Falling in an endless deluge, even as the slayer's calloused thumbs wiped his damp, flushed cheeks.
❝ ....She.....died.....They....both died...... ❞
Oddly clean ivory sheets covering ghostly faces. Yet still unable to hide the ruby staining a peach kimono. A familiar gi....
His voice was a whisper, a gentle ripple in the quiet room that seemed to echo through Akaza's very soul. He looked up from the ground, his eyes meeting his own, which were filled with a mix of pain and determination. He knew the demon was hurting, more than he would ever admit.
"Your life holds meaning and value..." He said again, his grip on Akaza's shoulder tightening ever so slightly. "I know you are in pain. I know the path you have walked is one of suffering. But you are not just a demon, Akaza. You have felt, you have loved, you have lost." That he knew there was some good inside of him, that there was a person that needed help.
He stepped forward to be in front of Akaza, his own eyes reflecting a deep sadness that mirrored the demon's. "You have felt the burden of your past, the weight of your choices, and the agony of your existence. But that is what makes you...you. It's what makes your soul burn with the same fiery passion as any human's." He would nod his head.
“We have all lost someone in this world.”
With surprising tenderness, he wrapped his arms around Akaza's trembling form, pulling him into a firm embrace. The demon was caught off guard, his eyes widening, his muscles tensing for a brief moment before he melted into the warmth of the embrace. It had been so long since he had felt the comfort of human touch, the gentle reassurance of another's arms around him.
His hand began to stroke his back in slow, soothing circles. The rhythmic motion seemed to resonate through Akaza's entire being, each touch sending waves of calm through his tense body. It was a stark contrast to the brutal battles and endless fights he was used to, the feeling of care and concern almost foreign to the demon.
“Just, trust me.”
As he rested his head on Akaza's shoulder, his breathing grew even, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against the demon's chest. A sense of peace washed over them both, one that he hadn't felt in an eternity, and he found himself leaning into the embrace, his eyes slowly closing as he felt the demon starting to be comforted by the warmth of the human touch.
The hand running through his hair was gentle, almost soothing, as if trying to coax out the tangles of doubt and despair that had lodged themselves deep within his soul.
Each stroke sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of a time when he was not feared, but loved. The gesture was so human, so intimate, that Akaza couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for a life he had lost to the ravages of time and fate.
Lithe, quivering, frame startling, jolting from this spiral grief for a brief moment. As the demon slayer had moved impossibly nearer still. As steady, warm, hands had ghosted up. Diligently rubbing circles upon Akaza's tense back.
As...Kyojuro....rocked him....
So tenderly within his arms....
An odd act that only drew forth more heavy tears, muted sobs, from the demon now.
The demon slayer had always spoke in so many curious riddles to Akaza, to Hakuji, of so many human things. Love, acceptance, safety, forgiveness, charity...
Kyojuro had spoken of it many times before while trying to teach, to save, the upper moon. About the weight and the value of his own life as well.
And yet, even so, it never failed to take his breath away. How Kyojuro had never cursed his existence. How Kyojuro never appeared afraid of him even at his worst, with even Akaza himself, thought he was far from redeemable. How Kyojuro had wholly regarded and spoken to the upper moon as if he was a human...
A person with hopes and dreams and love. Just like Kyojuro....
And Akaza couldn't help all but melt away within those comforting arms.
❝ They......They....poisoned the well... ❞
The quivering words uttered out of nowhere, with a voice so raw, so rough. taking even Akaza by surprise.
Who poisoned it and why?
This unyielding grief of decimating loss. Someone had died...
But who??
He....couldn't remember....
A radiant smile, akin to a thousand diamonds within the sun, adorning a peach pink kimono.
Dancing beneath the expanse of the immutable night sky, alit with the glow of dazzling fireworks.
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