kyojuro rengoku comes back after the mugen train incident to his very angry and very intimidating wife. ˚.✦
You hear the front gate creak open just after midnight.
The sound is so soft it could’ve been the wind, but your body knows better. Your chopsticks freeze halfway to your mouth. The miso soup you’ve been forcing down for the third night in a row suddenly tastes like ash.
You drop the bowl. It clatters loudly on the low table.
Heavy footsteps come up the engawa. You’re already on your feet, haori half-slipping off one shoulder, sleeves shoved up like you’re about to start a brawl instead of greeting your supposedly-dead husband.
The shoji door slides open.
And there he is.
Kyojuro Rengoku.
Alive.
Missing an eye. Bandages wrapped around half his face like some half-assed pirate cosplay. Uniform torn and bloodstained in places they didn’t even bother to wash properly. Hair still stupidly perfect despite everything. Smile still stupidly bright despite everything.
You stare.
He stares back.
Then he opens his mouth and the first thing out of it is:
“I’M HOME!!”
Like he just came back from buying tofu.
Your eye twitches.
You cross the room in three furious strides, grab the front of his haori with both fists, yank him down to your level (he lets you, because of course he does), and scream directly into his remaining eye:
“YOU. UTTER. IDIOT.”
Kyojuro blinks (well, winks now, technically) and has the absolute gall to look fond.
“My gorgeous flame—”
“SHUT UP!” You shake him by the collar like a misbehaving puppy. “Do you have ANY idea how many funeral offerings I’ve had to politely refuse? How many times I’ve had to smile and nod while people told me what a ‘heroic death’ you had? I almost set the damn Ubuyashiki estate on fire just so they’d stop sending condolence fruit baskets!”
He tries to speak again. You don’t let him.
“And now you just waltz in here at,” you glance at the moon, “stupid-o’clock in the morning looking like you lost a fight with a lawnmower and half your FACE?!”
You finally let go of his collar, only to poke him hard in the chest with one finger.
“You lost an eye, Kyojuro! An entire eye! What am I supposed to do with a one-eyed husband? Start calling you ‘Captain’ and make you wear an eyepatch with a little heart on it?”
His shoulders start shaking.
You narrow your eyes dangerously. “Are you… laughing?”
“No!” he says immediately, voice cracking with the effort of holding it in. “No, my love, I would never!”
“You’re literally crying with laughter right now.”
“I’m crying because I missed you so much,” he tries, but the grin is splitting his face in half and ruining the solemn effect.
You make an outraged noise and turn away, arms crossed so tight it hurts.
“Unbelievable. I mourned you. I cried. I yelled at crows. I threatened Muichiro with a broom because he kept looking at me with those big sad eyes like I was made of glass. And you’re giggling.”
Kyojuro steps closer, slowly, like he’s approaching a very angry wildcat. Which, to be fair, he is.
“I’m sorry,” he says, softer this time. All the bravado drains out of him. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to think I was gone. I fought with everything I had to come back to you.”
You refuse to look at him. Your bottom lip is trembling and you hate it.
He reaches out, hesitant, and lays his big warm hand over your shoulder.
“I should have been more careful,” he continues quietly. “I should have come back whole. I hate that I made you worry. I hate that I made you grieve even for a moment. You’re allowed to be furious. You’re allowed to hit me with that broom you mentioned. Just… please don’t turn away from me.”
You whip around so fast he flinches.
“You think I’m turning away because I’m mad you’re injured?” Your voice cracks. “I’m mad because you almost didn’t come back at all, you flaming moron! You almost left me here alone without your stupid loud laugh and your stupid loud eating and your stupid habit of setting things on fire when you get excited about breakfast!”
Tears are running down your face now and you’re too angry to wipe them away.
Kyojuro’s eye widens. Then softens. Then gets suspiciously shiny.
He drops to his knees in front of you and bows his head so deeply his forehead nearly touches the floor.
“What are you—”
“I was wrong,” he says, voice thick. “I was reckless. I failed to protect myself for you. I failed to keep my promise to always come home. Please… forgive me.”
You stare down at the back of his golden head, at the way his shoulders tremble just a little.
Your temper is still roaring, but something else is roaring louder.
You drop down too, knees hitting the floor hard enough to bruise, and throw your arms around his neck so violently he almost topples backward.
“Don’t you ever,” you hiss into his hair, “do that again.”
He wraps both arms around you immediately, crushing you to his chest like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go even a little.
“I swear,” he whispers, over and over. “I swear. Never again. Never again.”
You pull back just enough to glare at his bandaged face.
“And this?” You gesture at the bandages. “This is ridiculous. You look like you tried to fight a tornado and lost.”
He huffs a watery laugh. “It’s not so bad. The eyepatch they gave me has a little flame pattern. Very stylish.”
You snort despite yourself. “You’re going to look like the world’s most enthusiastic arsonist.”
“Exactly!” He beams. “Perfect for intimidating demons.”
You flick his forehead.
“Ow!”
“Stop being proud of it!”
“I can’t help it!” he laughs, grabbing your wrist gently and kissing the inside of it. “I’m alive. I’m home. And you’re still yelling at me. Everything is right with the world.”
You try to stay mad. You really do.
But he’s looking at you with that big dumb golden eye, smiling like the sun itself, and the relief is so overwhelming it hurts more than the anger ever did.
You lean forward and kiss him angry, messy, tasting salt and smoke and him. He kisses you back like a man who’s been starving for weeks.
When you finally break apart, both breathing hard, you mutter against his mouth:
“If you ever scare me like that again, I’m divorcing you and keeping the custody of your brother.”
Kyojuro throws his head back and laughs as loud as always.
“Understood, my fierce wife.” He presses his forehead to yours, eye shining. “But you’d miss my cooking.”
“Shut up,” you grumble, burying your face in his neck so he can’t see you smiling. “I hate you.”
“I love you too,” he says cheerfully, arms tightening around you like he’ll never let go again.
