“Shit, shit, shit!” The mantra repeated itself in your mind, driving you forward, a frantic rush towards the makeshift infirmary.
The night had been a slaughter. Hashira falling like autumn leaves, each death a weight on your shoulders. None of you had faced Muzan himself, only his twisted, powerful creations.
You’d faced Upper Moon Two, lost a companion beside you, and felt your resolve shatter with the loss. But when news reached you of Tomioka Giyū’s injuries, everything narrowed. Others had offered to continue the hunt while you went to him. They knew your need.
“Please stay alive,” you prayed, each step measured. “Please don’t be dead. Please be conscious.” The door loomed ahead, draped with a cloth bearing an eye—a warding charm, you guessed.
You pushed the door open, finding yourself in a chaotic space of healing. Injured Demon Slayers lay on cots, attended by Kakushi volunteers and Butterfly Estate girls. The air smelled of herbs and desperation.
“Ah, (L/N)-san! Please, come through. He’s over here.” A Kakushi woman gestured you toward a smaller room tucked away in the fortress’s heart.
And there he was. Giyū Tomioka, broken and bleeding, unconscious.
And shirtless.
The thought flickered, unwelcome and embarrassing. You mentally scolded yourself, silencing the familiar teasing that ran through your head. Your feelings for him were an open secret, fodder for lighthearted jabs. He was so impossibly oblivious, you’d long resigned yourself to a quiet friendship, nothing more.
“I’ll leave you two be,” the woman said gently. “Don’t worry, (L/N)-san, he’ll live. Thanks to these allied demons and Lady Kocho’s medicines.” She retreated, closing the door behind her.
The room was small, stark. A bed, a lamp casting a flickering glow, and the weight of your own breath. You knelt beside the bed, watching his chest rise and fall, counting each shallow inhale. You ran a hand through your hair, stress twisting your fingers into knots.
You couldn’t resist it. Your fingers traced the bandages wrapped tightly around his forearms. You smoothed a stray strand of hair from his forehead, the back of your hand brushing his skin.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Tomioka-san,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. Tears welled, blurring your vision. “You were so good to me, always watching over me when my guard was down. Why couldn’t I do the same for you?” Your voice cracked, a sob escaping your lips. You held his hand, warm and limp, praying not to disturb his fragile peace.
He stirred, a small, involuntary hum. You stilled, fear tightening your chest. Pain etched itself onto his face, and you immediately stood, stepping back. You knew he was suffering.
Oh, how you wished you could trade places with him. The thought was a desperate ache.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible. “If only you knew how many times I’d take a bullet for you.”
A light touch grazed your wrist. You whirled around, finding Giyū’s eyes open, glazed with pain, but focused on you. His arm lay heavy on the bed, useless.
“Stay,” he rasped, the word a fragile plea.
Heat flooded your cheeks. Even in delirium, his gaze felt impossibly intense. He was serious.
His breaths hitched, shallow and ragged, but he reached for you, his grip weak but determined. Your mind reeled, a storm of thoughts swirling within you.
You hiccuped, tears streaming down your face. You knelt again, burying your face in his hand, and embraced him. He hummed, a faint tremor running through his body. He weakly wiped the tears from your face with his thumb.
You cried in gratitude, relief washing over you. The man you loved, the man you’d cherished in silence for so long, was conscious.
“I-I’m sorry Tomioka-san, I can be really emotional. I just thought the man that I lo–” You caught yourself, turning your head towards the door.
“That you love?” Giyū finished, his voice a whisper, barely there. To your astonishment, maybe he wasn’t as dense as you’d believed.
“I guess the cat’s out of the bag, right?” You smiled, a shy, tentative curve of your lips.
Giyū hummed, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
You thought when he smiled was so damn cute.
Your expression fell after many moments of silence, knowing that it was most likely one-sided feelings.
“You know I love you too, right?” He affirmed you.
“Since when?” Your eyes widened before burying your face in your hands, a blushing mess. You can be really dense sometimes, too.
Giyū managed to chuckle before clutching his arm to his torso, wincing in slight pain.
But he still managed to whisper, “Since the moment I saw you.”
Before you knew it, his hand was on top of yours. You smiled, trying to organize in your thoughts about what the man just confessed to you.
“Well,” you whispered with the biggest grin on your face, “Once we kick Kibutsuji’s ass, I’ll stay by your side until the day I die.”
“As long as you’re mine, you aren’t going anywhere.” He replied before closing his eyes and succumbing to a light slumber.