katemeshi kioku (giyuu tomioka x gn!reader) — ch.1
ch.1 — you came to me
Giyuu had been here, only once before. As for the bloodshed in the village up north — he now carried it on his uniform, on his face, and then leaving the village, he came upon a candlelit window that he couldn't ignore. He wonders if that one night that he buried deep in his bones had lead him to standing in front of your front door.
katemeshi kioku ch. masterlist content warning: angst
word count: 1.2k a/n: this was intended to be a oneshot lol — my first real fic!!!!
It was an all-consuming darkness that never bothered to threaten to consume him whole, it just did. The unknown demon had slaughtered two homes before he could get there. Appearing suddenly under the cover of night, it descended upon the village and thus began the terror.
The evil was eventually neutralized and the villagers peeked out from their hiding to see the dissolving body and head of the demon with soulless black ashes being whisked up into the night sky — and then they saw Giyuu splattered with demon blood, all over his clothes and his face showing a well-known grief incapable of words to explain. “If I had only known and gotten here sooner…I could have—”, he clenched his fist around the handle of his nichirin, shaking his head to remember he must ensure the village was completely safe before he leaves and lets the kakushi take over, as they rush onto the scene to assess the damages to the village and its people.
With the moonlight beaming down through a diluted red, he sheathes his sword and turns his head over his shoulder to the village before he begins his journey back home. The moon was only as he felt it to be, as it goes for this world, that he as a hashira and the demon slayer corp risk their lives to protect; the moon almost never comes down peacefully on anyone — and it certainly never shines, the moonlight only bleeds.
In his dreadful haze, taking one step after the next, he comes upon a home with a flame still diffusely lighting the front-facing window behind sheer curtains in the middle of the night. “How reckless.”, he thought, “...beyond your scent, having a light on will only confirm there is fresh meat in that home for a demon to eat.”. He pauses mid-thought and slows his pace to a halt, focusing his eyes on the house a bit more.
He knows that house.
Without a rhyme or reason for his actions, he takes the laid-stone steps to the front door of the home. He takes a shaky breath, unsure of what he could possibly do next as he stands a few feet from the door. Unbeknownst to him, his footsteps were not as stealthy as he usually is, they were heavy with uncertainty against the stones and the wood underneath the porch.
Before his flight over fight instincts can set in, he hears light footsteps tread up to the door and cautiously slide it open, spilling the light from inside onto his face — he makes an involuntary swallow, tasting a bitter metallic on his tongue that he’s unsure is from the demon or accidentally biting his tongue stumbling over words that hadn’t even left his mouth yet.
The shadows softly casted over your profile made no difference in his view, he only saw what he could physically feel, which was the warmth within this home that opened the door for him with a surprised yet softened smile, now leaning against the doorframe and meeting his eyes.
“...yes?”
He quickly looks away, unconsciously crushing one side of his haori into a ball in his hand.
“I apologize…for arriving unwarranted…in the middle of the night. The village just north of here was attacked and I answered the call. On my way back, I…saw this house with a light still coming through the window and thought I recognized it…and…”
As he rambles on with a visible tension in his expression to keep his voice from wavering, you interrupt, stepping to the side of the opening, gesturing your hand inside, “Tomioka.”, gently said through the mask you wore, trying your best to conceal your concern of the obvious weight on his shoulders that he carried to your door. You chose to focus pleasantly on your easily skittish surprise visitor.
“You’re welcome to come in, if you’d like. Actually, it’s quite fortunate timing. I just made tea.”
He exhales a short breath as you turn around to let him walk inside. Still unsure as to what he’s thinking, much less doing, he steps into your home.
If you made it obvious that you needed to take care of his wounds or even address his current state of being immediately, as any sane person would, there's a good chance he would change his mind on entering and choose to dismiss your concerns, suffering his pain tenfold continuing back to his estate. You knew him well enough that this was the best way to be able to help him.
You tell him that he’s welcome to sit wherever he would like, but he opts for a wooden chair so that he doesn’t dirty anything with his bloodsoaked uniform. He looks out the window that he had seen walking up, lit by candlelight with a faint scent of incense wafting from behind him to out of the window. Something about this feels so peaceful, like a comfort indescribable, only experienced. He can see the appeal, despite the risk. “Is this what it’s like for her to sit here?”, he thought as he took another deep breath of the night air, smoky frankincense, and hint of lily. It reminds him of something from a while ago, but his mind is burning on empty far too much to think of anything but the current moment.
“Here. Take this, please.”
He turns around to see you holding a yunomi steaming with what must’ve been a ginger green tea out to him to take. As he thanks you for it, taking and then cradling it in his hands for its warmth, he catches an ever-so-slight hint of rosehip. He’d never had that combination of tea ingredients before but it is the slightest spice of ginger buffered with green tea, rounding out with the aromatic rosehips. He thinks of mentioning that he had never had it before, but you interrupt his thought with:
“It’s a good blend for pain relief. I’ve made it plenty of times post-mission and post-training.”
There’s a beat of silence before you pull a box into view that contains medical supplies and at your feet is a bucket of water with a clean rag.
“I’m not Shinobu, but I am pretty capable. I stitch up my own wounds quite a bit to avoid taking up a bed in the Butterfly Mansion for someone else who may need it more. I promise you’ll survive my treatment. Can I?...help, that is with…” , you gesture at his battle-beaten uniform, though your eyes stayed on the dirt and blood underneath his exhausted eyes.
He’d never ask for it and intentionally avoided bringing up where he had come from before here, beyond the vague mention of “a mission up north”. You could easily tell that it had done something to him beyond any wounds you could physically see. He knew you were observant beyond what you saw and he knew you could sense it within him that the effects of the mission had absorbed into his blood as well.
He knew that there was nothing he could hide from you.
Looking back into your imploring eyes that bore into the walls of his heart, he knew there was no point in trying to hide anything from you…and he wondered if he’d even want to.
｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡ ch.2 — katemeshi kioku ch. masterlist
a/n: oooo ok my first fic....i hope it's not lame i got really emotionally invested in this one and it becomes apparent as the chapters go on (5 planned atm) lmk what you think pls (๑•́ -•̀) k luv u ttyl
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