Archive of Our Own

Sabito doesn’t think he’s going to like the new guy very much.

Sure, he’s probably had a rough childhood, and those scars seem rather nasty, too, but honestly, isn’t that the reason all of them are here? Next to him, Giyuu looks on in indifferent apathy.

“Well, aren’t you something?” the boy says from where he’s sitting beside Kanae who looks vaguely worried. Sabito can’t blame her. “Hey, Master Ubuyashiki!” He’s risen to his feet, and Sabito can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves.

“Shinazugawa…” Himejima starts, and—right, that was the boy’s name. “It appears you do not understand… how to speak properly.” Spot on—Giyuu’s and his inauguration had been messy, sure, what with Giyuu vehemently refusing the vacant seat time and time again, but it hadn’t been this bad. Sabito has half a mind to get up and punch some sense into the boy when Ubuyashiki speaks up.

“It’s all right, Gyomei.” His voice is as soft as always, despite the apparent tension. Kind of like Urokodaki-sensei’s. “Let him speak. I do not mind.”

“But Master…” Kanae starts, only to be interrupted by Ubuyashiki again.

“It’s all right, Kanae.”

Sabito grits his teeth. Giyuu is silent.

“You’ve got no shame—you make me sick!” Shinazugawa rages on. “You only think of Corps members as pawns to be used and tossed aside!”

He digs his blunt nails into his palm. There’s something wrong with staying silent in the face of baseless assumptions and blatant injustice. And this guy is honestly supposed to become a Pillar?

Sabito blocks out most of the rest of the less-than-civil conversation, right up until the Ubuyashiki heir hands Shinazugawa some sort of letter. And Shinazugawa actually… starts crying. He feels kind of bad for him until he remembers Shinazugawa was yelling at Ubuyashiki just a moment earlier.

As soon as the meeting is closed and they’re dismissed, with Ubuyashiki disappearing back into his estate, the other Pillars—Giyuu excluded—crowd around Shinazugawa. “Why would you say something like that?” he can hear Kanae say. “I’m sad now.”

Tengen doesn’t look too pleased either. “No, don’t do that,” he scolds Shinazugawa as Sabito comes closer, Giyuu not too far behind. “Seriously, that’s a horrible first impression.” Sabito would be hard pressed to disagree.

“Yeah,” Sabito chimes in, fox mask resting in his hair and his arms crossed over his chest. “Way to go, man.”

Shinazugawa, who looks positively red, almost seethes with anger. “Yeah?” he says, turning up his nose at Giyuu and him. “You’re one to talk, shithead. I’ve heard about you, y’know.”

Sabito just raises one eyebrow. He’s too old to be provoked by stupid shit like this.

“Twin Pillars, don’t make me laugh,” Shinazugawa spits at them. “If you’re not good enough on your own, just say that!”

Perhaps someone really ought to punch some sense into that guy.

Sabito’s willing to volunteer to be the one to do it when Giyuu places a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head ever so slightly. “Don’t,” his eyes say.

“And you!” Shinazugawa shifts his attention from Sabito to Giyuu. “You think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you? Think you’re too good to talk to us, huh?”

Giyuu’s expression doesn’t change. Sometimes, Sabito wishes he were a bit more expressive. “I have nothing to say,” Giyuu admits at last, his voice carefully level.

Obviously the wrong thing to say as Shinazugawa takes a step forward, his hand outstretched as if to make a grab for Giyuu. Sabito catches it instead, fingers wrapped tightly around Shinazugawa’s wrist. “Don’t touch him,” he nearly snarls.

“Guys-” Kanae starts as Himejima starts another prayer.

It’s Tengen who interrupts her. “Nah, let them have this,” he waves her off, “best to get any possible conflicts out of the way early on.” His jewels clink quietly as he shifts. “Long as they don’t kill each other.”

“Not here in the courtyard, though!” Kanae argues back. “Not in front of Master Ubuyashiki!”

“You’re lucky,” Sabito says, finally letting go of Shinazugawa’s wrist. “Next time, I won’t let you off the hook so easily.”

Shinazugawa just clicks his tongue. “Whatever,” he says, snatching his hand back as if Sabito’s touch had burnt him. “Best make sure you don’t become obsolete in the meantime,” he adds with another nasty glare towards Giyuu. “There’s only so many seats, after all.”

“How’s your Form coming along?” Sabito asks conversationally, handing the cup of cold tea off to Giyuu before plopping down next to him. Despite the shade provided by the nearby trees, the midday sun shines on brutally. Sabito can barely make out the gurgle of the brook surrounding the Water Estate over the sound of the cicadas.

Giyuu hums, accepting the cup with a grateful nod. He doesn’t even bat an eye when Sabito tucks a strand of his hair, slick with sweat, behind his ear, leaning into Sabito’s touch. He might not be as clingy as before, but some things’ll probably never change, Sabito muses. He doesn’t particularly mind. “Going alright,” he says at last. If Sabito didn’t know him as well as he does, he most likely would’ve missed the slight frown on Giyuu’s face.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Sabito says, keeping his tone light. “What’re you struggling with?”

The frown deepens. Sabito wishes he could smooth it out with his thumb, which is kind of a dumb thought. “I just think you should have worked on the offensive part,” Giyuu says. “Not me.”

Sabito clicks his tongue, bracing his hands on the ground and leaning back. Not a cloud in sight. Pity, he rather likes the rain. “Nah,” he says at last because he doesn’t really have a comeback. There’s no reason why they’d decided to split the Form the way they did. “Wanna go through the motions again?”

He heaves a sigh. “We might as well,” he says, getting up and offering Sabito his hand.

Giyuu’s hand is warm when Sabito takes it, his palm calloused. “To be honest, I’m struggling with my part as well,” Sabito admits, brushing the dirt off his pants.

Raising an eyebrow, Giyuu is already reaching for his sword. “One more reason to switch, then.”

“No way!” It’s not even that Giyuu lacks the strength to pull off more offensive attacks—Sabito really doesn’t know where all these self-doubts are coming from. “What are you, a wimp? You’re really going to give up at the first obstacle you encounter?”

“…No,” Giyuu finally concedes.

“Thought so!” Sabito gives him a good old slap on the back, though Giyuu has stopped flinching a long time ago. “C’mon, we don’t have all day.”

Dutifully, Giyuu falls into stance right beside Sabito—this Form that they’ve been coming up with, whatever it’s going to be called in the future, Sabito just knows it’ll be something special. Something new.

Giyuu’s Eleventh Form had been exciting.

This one is going to be mind-blowing.

If it works, that is. So far, no luck.

“I think you need to raise your sword higher there,” Sabito comments as Giyuu’s nichirin blade concludes its graceful arc just inches from his head.   

Who would’ve thought that coming up with a conjoined Form would be this difficult to navigate.

Giyuu grumbles something under his breath. “You’re blocking my path,” he says. Sheepishly, Sabito repositions his right leg, closing his stance a little. It should be easy, really—they’ve been fighting together for ages now. But it’s not; he can’t read Giyuu’s mind, and neither can Giyuu read his.

“If I move backwards like this,” Sabito thinks out loud, demonstrating the movement, “d’you think that would work?” Push and pull, like the tides.

“You’d have to stay lower for it to properly work,” Giyuu comments, watching Sabito from of the corners of his eyes. “You’ll be a liability if you’re in the path of my sword.”

Sabito hums. “That’d leave me open to the enemy’s attack, though.” Gods, he really hates practicing defensive stances. They’re terribly boring.

“Just for a moment,” Giyuu says, “and you’d be covering our left blind spot. That’s worth a lot.”

“Leaves your right side open, though,” Sabito argues back. “Like this.” He reaches around and jabs the hilt of his sword into Giyuu’s unprotected right side who stares at him with an unamused expression.

“We don’t need total defence.”

Sheathing sword, Sabito sighs. “’Cept you do. And that’s what I’m here for.”

“Right.”

Sabito can see it in Giyuu’s face that he’s not fully convinced. “Got any problems with that?”

Frowning, Giyuu sheathes his own sword, the blade reflecting the afternoon light before it disappears completely. “It just doesn’t make sense for me to develop the offensive part,” he says, holding up a hand when Sabito opens his mouth to protest, “my leg work is better than yours, and your upper body is stronger than mine.”

He does have a point. Sabito grins at him. “Even more reasons to work on the aspects we’re lacking in, no?”

Giyuu rolls his eyes, but before he can answer, a dark shadow sweeps down from the sky, settling on Sabito’s shoulder and spreading its wings. He gets a mouthful of feathers almost immediately.  

“Caw! Mission for Sabito, caw!” his crow screeches into his ear, even as he turns his head away from it. Giyuu stifles a smile. Bastard. “Caw! Sabito is to meet Shinazugawa at the Ubuyashiki Estate!”

“Shinazugawa?” Sabito repeats, scrunching up his nose. “Really?”

His crow tugs at the ends of his hair. Harshly. “Hurry, Sabito! Hurry, hurry!”

“Alright, alright, sheesh.” Leaning down, he picks his haori from the ground and dusts it off. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Giyuu, his hands folded in front of his body, nods. “Take care,” he simply says.

“Don’t do anything dumb.” A peck on Giyuu’s cheek, just for good luck. Sabito isn’t really sure what they are, and at this point it feels like it’s too late to ask.

(Sabito vaguely recalls one particularly sake-filled evening right after their promotion, with Giyuu’s lips on his—it was more of a drunken fumble than anything else, really, clacking teeth and roaming hands, and it probably doesn’t mean anything.)

Giyuu’s breath is warm against his skin when he rests his chin on Sabito’s shoulder for just a moment before he steps back. “You’re one to talk.”

“Hurry!” his crow screeches again, now nibbling at his earlobe.

Half-heartedly, he tries to swat it away. The damned thing only ruffles its feathers. “Do something useful while I’m gone!” he yells at Giyuu over his shoulder, making his way down the path. “Like, I don’t know, get a tsuguko or something!”

“Goodbye, Sabito,” Giyuu merely calls after him, effectively cutting him off. Bastard, Sabito thinks fondly.

“Tomioka-san didn’t want to accept the position as Pillar without Sabito-san,” he can hear Kanae whisper to Shinazugawa as he steps into the garden, the scent of wisteria heavy in the air. Shinazugawa, who, surprisingly enough, looks not as angry as usual, sitting next to Kanae. He isn’t mad at Kanae for explaining their situation. It’s not her fault Shinazugawa apparently is so nosy.

“Sabito,” Shinazugawa scoffs, face twisting as if he’s tasted something sour, “doesn’t he have a surname?”

“I don’t,” Sabito chimes in, resting his hand on Shinazugawa’s head as he leans over to greet Kanae. “Got a problem with that?”

Shinazugawa bats his hand away immediately. “Everyone’s got a last name, shithead.”

“Well, I don’t,” he repeats, eyeing Shinazugawa with a grin that’s sure to set the other one off. “You hard of hearing or something?”

“Hello, Sabito-san!” Kanae greets him, presumably before the situation can escalate. He decides to take a seat beside her. “What were you called here for?”

Sabito shrugs. “Mission,” he simply says, pointing at Shinazugawa.

“Without Tomioka-san?” Kanae hums in thought. “That’s unusual. Well, I suppose he did just come back from a mission.”

That he did. Sabito had patched up the wounds himself after Giyuu had refused to visit the nearby Wisteria House for whatever petty reason. “Guess so.”

Shinazugawa snorts derisively. It’s not a pretty sound.

“How’s he doing, anyway?” Kanae chatters on—Sabito knows she’s not oblivious to the tension in the room. Garden. Whatever.

“He’s doing alright.” After smoothing out the wrinkles in his haori, Sabito adjusts his fox mask. With all due respect, he really wishes Ubuyashiki would hurry up. “A little bruised, maybe. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Kanae winces in sympathy. “Please give him my regards,” she says, standing up, her colourful haori fluttering around her like a butterfly’s wings. “I was just here to deliver a message, so I’ll take my leave now. Please take care, Sabito-san, Shinazugawa-san.” She bows a little, dark hair framing her face.

Sabito gives her a curt nod, not unkind. “Will do,” he promises, mock-saluting. “You take care too, Kanae.”

She smiles, fixing the sword at her hip. “Always so straightforward, Sabito-san.”

And then, in a flurry of glimmering, colourful wings, she is gone.

Shinazugawa, now next to him, clicks his tongue. “Still don’t get why they’d make you a Pillar,” he grumbles, squinting at Sabito. “There’s literally a million Breath of Water users, and the Master chose not one, but two incompetent idiots?”

And, really, that makes him bark out a surprised laugh. “You’re a child,” he says despite the fact that Shinazugawa must be around the same age as he and Giyuu, “and you’ve been a Pillar for, what, a month? Lemme tell you, most new candidates die within the first year. You’re not out of the woods just yet.”

The boy scowls again. Or maybe he’d never stopped scowling, Sabito’s gotten kind of tired of looking at his stupid face. Slayers like him are a dime a dozen—brash, loud-mouthed and impatient.

(It kind of reminds him of himself, back when he was younger.)

They’re the ones who die first. It’s a miracle this guy’s still alive.

“Yeah?” Shinazugawa picks up their conversation again. Maybe it’s more of an argument, actually. “At least I’m not sharing the seat with someone else. What, does that mean you’re only half as good on your own? Need your little friend to hold your hand?”

He grits his teeth. “Half as good on my own still means better than you,” he says, blinking when Shinazugawa’s hand closes around his collar, yanking him forward.

“Listen here, you little-” he starts.

Sabito pushes his hand away, adjusting his collar. “C’mon, man, not cool,” he says with a grin, “respect your elders.” He likes to think that age has not only made him calmer, but also wiser. Giyuu would probably disagree, but Giyuu’s also not here at the moment.

“Shinazugawa-san. Sabito,” the Master greets them pleasantly, taking his seat on the engawa. “I’m pleased to see you in such good health.”

“Of course, Master,” Sabito says, already bowing. Next to him, Shinazugawa does the same. “May I be so bold as to inquire the reason for the summons?” And everyone always says he’s too brash with his words.

The Master motions for them to raise their heads, so they oblige. “There have been mentions of a potential demon hiding out in a nearby village.” Behind him, one of the uncanny twins—she can’t be older than five—gets up and hands him a sealed envelope.

Sabito frowns. “Is it really necessary to dispatch two Pillars for one demon?” he asks, accepting the envelope and turning it over in his hands. Ubuyashiki hadn’t said it was one of the Moons.

“I was told that you two had a… rather difficult time getting along,” he says, inclining his head. Sabito silently curses the other Pillars. “So I thought that this mission could give you some time to get to know each other better, and resolve potential issues. It won’t do for the Corps to be fighting among themselves, after all.”

He’s almost afraid Shinazugawa’s jaw is going to break with the way the guy’s gritting his teeth. Not that Sabito himself is any happier with the situation. “But-” he tries to argue.

Ubuyashiki cuts him off in an instant. “Giyuu has agreed to patrol your region until the mission is over, and Kanae will take care of Shinazugawa’s region in the meantime, so please do not worry about that.”

Giyuu, the traitor. Of course.

“Yes, but-” he tries anew.

This time, it’s Shinazugawa who interrupts him. “Understood, Master. We will be heading out shortly.”

“Thank you both.” Ubuyashiki inclines his head as Shinazugawa and Sabito bow again. “Stay safe, my children.”

“Of course,” Sabito mumbles, intently staring at a rock.

He may as well expect the worst.

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” Shinazugawa counts off, walking a few feet in front of him, “don’t look at me, don’t touch me, and don’t get in my fucking way.”

“Likewise,” Sabito grumbles under his breath, kicking up a little dirt. It’s hot as shit and Shinazugawa is being a goddamn brat. All of this sucks.

Sometimes Sabito thinks that Giyuu represents the aspects of water better than himself. He’s calm. Tranquil. He adapts to new situations like the river carving itself a new riverbed. Sometimes, Giyuu tells him that water isn’t just that. That it is also wild and unpredictable, like the stormy sea. Like you, he can hear Giyuu say.

Tough luck.

Whereas the water of the river is benevolent and fresh, the stormy sea knows no pity. It doesn’t differentiate between friend and foe. Is that really who he is?

Maybe. “Hey, Shinazugawa,” he says because it’s too hot and he’s already annoyed (at Giyuu, and Ubuyashiki, and Shinazugawa and maybe even himself) and it’s not good to bottle up your feelings. “Your name pisses me off. It’s too long. What’s your given name?”

“Hah?” Shinazugawa says. If looks could kill, well, Sabito would probably be dead in a ditch somewhere. “You really wanna die that badly, asshole?”

“Hardly,” Sabito replies dryly. “C’mon, it’s only fair. You already know my name, no harm in giving me yours.”

Shinazugawa looks positively murderous. Well, that’s nothing a good old-fashioned brawl can’t solve. Maybe after they’ve taken care of the demon. “Forget about it, shithead.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Sabito shakes his head. His hair feels to heavy. Sometimes he wants to chop it all off, just like that. And then he remembers Giyuu.

“Look,” he’d said one sunny afternoon, years ago when they’d still been staying with old man Urokodaki. His hair had gotten longer, long enough to tie it in the back with a ribbon the old man had given him. Perhaps it’d belonged to Makomo. “We’re matching now.”

It’s a stupid reason to keep it at that length. It’s as good a reason as any.

“What are you, a child or a man?” he says, just to get Giyuu out of his head. Maybe Giyuu had been the one to get him into this dilemma. Probably not. It’s more likely that it was Kanae.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you sooner or later,” Shinazugawa nearly hisses at him, “Just keep it up and you’re gonna be a dead man.”

And Giyuu said he cursed too much.

“What’s with those stupid masks anyway?” Shinazugawa rants on. “They’re fucking ugly.”

Sabito is tempted to just get rid of him then and there. It would be a good deed, honestly, both for the Corps and the rest of the world. Instead, he just grits his teeth, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. “They’re to ward off bad luck,” he explains though he doesn’t think Shinazugawa is going to care much.

“That other Water guy had one as well, didn’t he?” Shinazugawa rolls his eyes. “Not only do you need to work together to accomplish anything at all, you also need masks to ward off evil? Pathetic.”

(Pathetic.

Red blood staining the forest floor, soaking into the silken fabric of an even redder haori.

Pathetic.)

“Shut the fuck up,” Sabito tells him, not unkindly. “If you have nothing of importance to say, don’t say anything at all.” Sometimes you just have to fight fire with fire instead of water, even if that’s Giyuu’s preferred method.

And to his surprise, it works. Well. Almost.

Shinazugawa is quiet for all but two seconds before he starts complaining about the weather, their mission, and finally Sabito himself.

That’s alright, though. Sabito doesn’t mind that as much.

“I still don’t get why they made an exception for you,” Shinazugawa doesn’t quite ask. He has the same flat way of delivering questions as Giyuu. It’s an unwelcome realisation.

“Maybe you’re just dumb,” Sabito offers, poking at the fire. “They didn’t really make an exception, anyway,” he adds before it can escalate again. Shinazugawa had been pleasantly quiet for the past hour.

Shinazugawa only grunts in response.

“Giyuu didn’t want to become a Pillar, so I stepped in. I usually take care of most of the representative stuff, but we share the rest. Patrol duties, missions and all that.”

“That’s what an exception is, smartass,” Shinazugawa starts before he stops. “Giyuu?”

“Half-‘n-half haori guy,” Sabito explains. He’s never going to forgive Giyuu for massacring his kimono like that. He understands the sentiment, sure, but there was something deeply scarring about stumbling in on Giyuu ruining his kimono only to sew half of it onto his sister’s red haori. It looks absolutely revolting, too. Not that he’s going to tell Giyuu that. Guy’s a walking patchwork, but if that’s his way of coping, then so be it. “Tomioka.”

At Shinazugawa’s silence, he laughs loudly. “What, did you think he wouldn’t have a first name?”

“You don’t have a last name,” Shinazugawa argues back, scowling again. “Anyways, I don’t really care.”

“Maybe I have a last name,” Sabito says, flashing Shinazugawa a cocky grin. “Maybe you’re the only one who doesn’t know.”

“Idiot,” Shinazugawa scoffs, turning away. “Don’t expect me to cover your back while you’re sleeping.”

He doesn’t mean it. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sabito replies nonetheless, rolling his eyes and tugging his haori tighter around himself. The nights out here aren’t that cold, especially since the summer months are fast approaching, but there is still a light chill in the air. “Wake me when you want to switch.”

“Whatever,” Shinazugawa grumbles, his eyes fixated on the dark horizon.

Shinazugawa knows how to hold himself in a fight, Sabito will give him that. And he’s surprisingly fast. Not that the demon they’re facing is a particularly powerful one. “Duck!” he yells at Shinazugawa, who, of course, doesn’t listen.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” Shinazugawa yells back, momentarily distracted and—yep, that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise for sure.

Sabito winces slightly as Shinazugawa’s back hits a nearby tree though the guy barely seems fazed.

“See, I barely have to do anything,” the demon taunts them. It looks vaguely terrified, with its wide, crazed eyes. “You’ll kill each other before I even have to lift a finger!” It also seemingly doesn’t know when to shut up.

“Oh, be quiet,” Sabito says, beheading it with a swift slash of his blade. He doesn’t wait around to watch it disintegrate before he’s already stalking over to Shinazugawa. “The hell was that?” he snarls, stabbing his sword into the ground an inch from Shinazugawa’s hand.

Shinazugawa looks up at him with bloodshot eyes. “Yeah?” he snarls back. “The hell was that attack?” He’s probably referring to Sabito’s Second Form which had nearly taken his head off.

Well, if he’d actually listened to Sabito, there wouldn’t have been a problem. “I told you to duck,” Sabito says defensively. “If you don’t wanna listen, then that’s on you.”

In an instant, Shinazugawa is on his feet, his fist buried in the pit of Sabito’s stomach. “Wanna say that again?”

Coughing slightly, Sabito reaches for Shinazugawa’s arm, twisting it away from his body. “Gladly. I said-” his knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip- “that’s on you.”

Shinazugawa seems ready to punch him again when another voice interrupts their little… disagreement. “Hey, hey!” the intruder says as he steps out of the even darker woods. “No need to fight, gentlemen!”

He barely has to exchange a glance with Shinazugawa before they’ve reached for their swords again, falling back into a defensive stance. “Who are you?” Sabito asks, even as Shinazugawa rolls his eyes.

“Don’t fucking ask it who it is! It’s a goddamn demon!”

“I can see that!”

“They why do you even ask!”

“Hey!” the demon yells again, looking less than amused now. “Stop making such a ruckus!”

Shinazugawa actually fucking growls at it. Even the demon seems taken aback before it collects itself. “What’s it to you, punk?” he asks, inclining his head. “What, did you think you could live a peaceful life here? That we wouldn’t come along to send you back to the shithole you crawled from?”

The demon snorts. “No, you’re just scaring the cattle.” It reaches behind, grabbing for something halfway hidden by the trees. Sabito’s grip on his sword tightens. “Look, poor thing’s all scared now,” it says with a mocking smile, shoving a little girl into the clearing between them.

Sabito sucks in a sharp breath. A hostage?

The girl picks herself up from the ground, standing on shaky legs, before the demon gives her a little nudge and she’s sprawled out on the forest floor again. “Poor thing can’t even stand, that’s how scared she is,” it coos. It reeks of malice.  

“Shinazu-” Sabito starts but the guy raises a hand, cutting him off.

“Just hurry,” Shinazugawa responds gruffly.

Sabito nods.

The girl takes top priority; Sabito dodges a swipe from the demon that would’ve taken an eye out had he been more careless, and with a few more steps he comes to a crouch before the girl, quickly scanning her for any signs that would need immediate medical attention, anything that would lead to certain death should he move her now.

It seems safe to move her, however, and Sabito quickly picks her up, already retreating, behind Shinazugawa who’s positioned himself like a wall between Sabito and the demon. He doesn’t quite turn his back to the fight, that’d be foolish, and he deposits the girl once they’re out of the demon’s reach. Behind them, the sound of clashing metal and the demon’s taunts continue, though he pays them no heed.

He tries to prop her up against a tree as gently as possible, and even then she whimpers. It’s a pitiful, broken sound. “You’ll be alright?” he asks her, already unfastening the warding mask and placing it on the girl’s head. “This mask will fend off evil until we can get you to a safe place. Sit tight, yeah?”

She clutches his mask with tearful eyes, giving one shaky nod, and that’s all he needs.

With as soft a smile as he can manage, Sabito hurries back to enter the fray once more.

Shinazugawa only grunts in what Sabito assumes is supposed to mean ‘Thanks’ when he deflects a blow aimed at Shinazugawa’s side. “Girl’s safe?” he asks, changing his grip on his sword.

“Girl’s safe,” Sabito affirms, “nasty wounds, but she’ll live.”

Another grunt in response. “Good.”

The demon in front of them cackles. It’s a surprise Shinazugawa hasn’t finished it off yet.

“Damn thing is protecting its neck,” Shinazugawa says as if reading his thoughts. Well, if that isn’t unsettling.

Sabito hums in thought, formulating the next plan. Giyuu might say he rushes headlong into danger, but Giyuu also tends to overthink, so what does he know.

“I’ll give you cover,” he says as quietly to Shinazugawa as he can manage. “Let me draw the demon’s attention, and then strike.”

“A feint?”

He nods. No better time to perfect his and Giyuu’s newest Form than now, he supposes. Even if Shinazugawa is a Breath of Wind user. It’ll be fine. “Any uppercut-type moves you know?”

Shinazugawa grunts. Honestly, can’t the guy talk like a normal person? “Don’t fucking underestimate me.”

Heaving a sigh, Sabito dashes forward, taking care to stay low enough not to get in the way of Shinazugawa’s attack. Shinazugawa moves nearly in tandem with him, though Sabito’s elaborate Form should conceal most of his movements.

The demon leers at them. “Please!” it screeches. “You two are so discordant, it makes me laugh!” Then, it lunges.

At the tipping point, just before the demon’s attack can hit, Sabito abruptly halts his movements, using his momentum to twist his body and sword in a flowing, fast slash, low enough not to interfere with Shinazugawa’s attack, effectively creating a barrier between him and the demon’s claws.

Shinazugawa, in turn, rotates his body in the opposite direction, creating an arcing slash that beheads the demon in one, clean motion. It probably would have worked better if they used techniques of the same Breath, Sabito muses. Well, it still served its function so it’s fine or whatever.

Shinazugawa exhales. Loudly. “Why the hell did you go full defence,” he asks. It still doesn’t sound like a question.

Sabito shrugs, sheathing his sword. “The demon was weak enough that I didn’t need to use any offensive moves.” He’s already moving towards where he’d left the girl.

Though Shinazugawa is behind him and Sabito can’t possibly see his face, he can guess at the expression the guy’s making when he says, “that defence was utterly pointless. The demon’s attack couldn’t have reached around anyway.”

“I know,” Sabito says, crossing his arms behind his head. “I was testing something.” The forest is dark, the light of the moon unable to reach through the thick foliage.

“The battlefield is no place to test new moves for the first time.” Shinazugawa looks ready to burst a vein. “You’re just endangering everyone around you.”

“It worked out, didn’t it?” The girl has fallen asleep, despite the ruckus. Sabito checks her breathing and pulse before motioning for Shinazugawa to help her onto his back.

Surprisingly enough, Shinazugawa doesn’t need to be told twice, lifting the girl and setting her on Sabito’s back. The mask, he notices, is still clutched tightly in her hands. “So, would you mind showing me that move again?” Sabito asks, almost casually. That could be the component they’re still missing in their conjoined Form. If he can adjust it a little…

Shinazugawa snorts. “You’re not a Breath of Wind user, shithead.”

“No shit.” Sabito rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t mean I can’t take inspiration from other Breaths.” And then, because he’s kind of in a good mood, he continues. “Giyuu and me, we’re working on a new Form together. A joined Form.”

“What good is a Form if you need two people to do it?” Shinazugawa scoffs.

“You don’t really need two people,” Sabito tries to explain, though he supposes that’s the same as throwing pearls before swine. “It just consists of two parts. You could use each part on its own, I suppose.” They’d just be very lacking, but Shinazugawa doesn’t need to know that.

“Then why make it a joined Form in the first place,” he argues back. “That’s just stupid.”

Maybe. Maybe not. “Existing Water Breathing Forms are hard to combine,” Sabito says, though that is only half the truth, “the ones that you can combine are either too defensive, or offer no defence at all.”

“So you decided to forge a Form that would offer both perfect offense as well as defence?”

“Yeah,” Sabito says, hefting the girl up a little. The village shouldn’t be too far now. If he strains his eyes, he can make out dim lights in between the trees.

“It’s still stupid,” Shinazugawa says.

Sabito laughs, careful not to wake the girl. “Like I give a shit.”

Shinazugawa gives him a kick in the ribs, and Sabito immediately straightens himself. “You’re slouching.” Another jab. “Raise your elbows. Your posture fucking sucks.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Sabito raises his arms. “Like this?” he asks, praying to whatever god is willing to listen that he won’t just snap and strangle Shinazugawa on the spot.

“Not like that, you blockhead. Like this.” He demonstrates it. “Less flowy movements, more force. Got it?”

He rolls his eyes. The sun is hot above. Shinazugawa is a relentless teacher. It’s all coming together. “I’m just trying to adapt the Form,” Sabito says, dropping his posture for half a second to wipe his brow before Shinazugawa gives him another kick. His side is going to be so damn bruised. “Not perfectly copy it.”

“Tough luck, buddy,” Shinazugawa snarls. “My training, my methods. Now raise your fucking elbows.”

And Giyuu used to have the audacity to complain about his training.

Sabito tries again. It shouldn’t be too hard to mimic a Form from another Breath, but for whatever reason (he attributes it to Shinazugawa’s terrible personality) he just can’t match the raw force that Shinazugawa puts into his attacks. Which is unreasonable. The guy probably couldn’t even beat him in an arm-wrestling contest.

Shinazugawa is still circling him, his eyes constantly searching for mistakes and flaws in Sabito’s stance, until he clears his throat. “Sanemi,” he says suddenly, without context.

Sabito halts for a moment, mid-strike. He must make a pretty stupid face, because Shinazugawa only rolls his eyes, jabbing a finger into Sabito’s side, hitting another fresh bruise. “My name. Sanemi.”

Sabito grins, lowering his sword. “Knew you’d come around. You’re not half bad, man.”

“Shut up.”

“You can call me Sabito,” he continues, swiftly evading another jab aimed at his side. “Now that you’ve finally decided to man up and bury the hatchet, Sanemi.”

“I said shut the fuck up. Stop running your stupid mouth and work on your fucking posture.” Sanemi looks vaguely unhinged. Or maybe that’s just his normal look.

Sabito mock salutes. Best not to push his luck.

“Giyuu!” he calls out to his friend, waving a little. “Hey!”

Still no tsuguko in sight at the Water Estate. Well, Sabito hadn’t expected anything different, of course. It would’ve been nice, of course. Having someone to teach. Maybe some time in the future.

“Hello,” Giyuu greets back, his expression carefully blank as he helps Sabito out of his dusty haori. The wooden planks are pleasantly cool beneath his feet. “I assume the mission has gone well?”

“You knew!” Sabito immediately accuses him. “You knew the reason!”

“How would I have known it,” Giyuu deadpans. Gods, he really has the same flat way of delivering questions. Now that’s uncanny.

He watches as Giyuu neatly folds his haori and sets it aside to be washed before following him through the house and out the back, settling down on the engawa. “No matter! I gotta tell you something,” Sabito continues, even as Giyuu hands him a cold drink that he must’ve prepared for himself. He couldn’t have known Sabito would arrive at this particular moment in time.

Right?

Pushing his thoughts aside, Sabito focuses on Giyuu who has been staring at him until now, seemingly expecting him to go on. “I think I know how to perfect our Form,” he continues, a little calmer.

Giyuu, propping his elbows up on his legs, leans forward. He almost seems… interested.

Sabito takes that as his cue to go on. “With Wind Breathing, you see, there’s a Sixth Form. No idea what it’s called, Shinazugawa wouldn’t say, but it’s, like, this uppercut slash focusing on pure offense. It’d work perfectly.”

“Water and Wind Forms are fundamentally different,” Giyuu argues back. “The stances don’t even match up. How would that work?”

“That,” Sabito starts, giving Giyuu a jovial slap on the back. Still no flinch. “Is why we need to tweak it a little.”

Giyuu hums in thought, mulling it over in his head. “I suppose it could work.”

“’Course it will,” Sabito says. “C’mon, let’s try!”

Despite Giyuu’s lack of enthusiasm, he lets himself be dragged along by Sabito until they’re standing in the middle of the garden, green grass below, the blue sky above. His sword is still strapped to his waist, and Giyuu just grabs one of the wooden swords they keep around the estate.

“You kinda have to start like this,” Sabito demonstrates, angling his body the way Shinazugawa had done it while keeping most of the flowy movements that pertain to Water Breathing. “Raise your elbow a little. You need to start from a high point.”

Giyuu obliges, and Sabito only has to nudge his arm up a little higher until Giyuu’s blade has the angle they need for the attack to work. “See, you’re a natural!” he says, because Giyuu had always been rather self-conscious.

Speaking of self-conscious, they’d have to check in with Murata sometime in the future.  

“I’ve barely done anything,” Giyuu says with a scowl, interrupting his train of thought.

“Took me way longer to grasp it, though,” Sabito counters, assuming his own position once more. “And now you just gotta create an arcing slash from that point.”

Giyuu’s first attempt isn’t flawless, but he seems to grasp the motions quicker than Sabito had. Maybe he’s just that good of a teacher. Repeating the attack a few times, shifting his stance here and there or slightly changing the angle of his sword, Giyuu nods at last. “I think I’ve got it,” he says, the back of his hand grazing Sabito’s arm. Despite the scorching heat, Sabito doesn’t quite mind.

“Wanna try the whole thing now?” he asks, flashing Giyuu a grin.

Nodding a little, Giyuu takes a step back, motioning for Sabito to take the field.

Sabito positions himself just a little in front of Giyuu, lowering his stance to how it had been when he’d tried the Form with Shinazugawa.

Their conjoined attack goes better than expected, honestly—not that Sabito had expected it to flunk, but it almost seems as if a dam has finally broken. Neither his, nor Giyuu’s swords stray too close to each other this time around. Maybe he’d really have to thank Shinazugawa for his help.

That, in and of itself, is a terrifying enough thought to make him stumble.

“Oh,” Giyuu says as he finishes the Form, only to come face to face with Sabito sprawled out on the grass. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

He groans, shaking his head from where he’s lying on the ground. “I’m alright,” he says, taking the hand Giyuu offers him, “just lost concentration for a second.”

Giyuu hums. “You did just come back from a mission. Perhaps you should rest.”

Sabito inclines his head. “I was thinking of heading down to the stream, actually,” he says, “to cool off.”

Giyuu’s stare seems almost unimpressed. Sometimes, Sabito really wonders what goes on inside that head of his.

“Wanna come with…?” he adds when it seems unlikely that Giyuu is going to answer of his own volition.

Another blank stare. “Sure,” Giyuu says after a long moment, falling into step beside Sabito who is still brushing the dirt off his uniform. “What do you want to call the Form?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of ‘Receding Tides’. What do you think?”

There’s only the sound of the leaves crunching beneath their feet as Giyuu thinks in silence. Somewhere in the distance, a bird starts to sing. “’Ebb and Flow’,” he says at last.

Sabito smiles, throwing an arm around his shoulder. Giyuu stiffens for a moment before relaxing, resting his head on Sabito’s shoulder. His hair tickles. “How about ‘Receding Tides, Ebb and Flow’?”

Giyuu takes a long time to think, but Sabito doesn’t really mind. “I like it,” Giyuu finally proclaims. Sabito can already hear the sound of the water.

“What a coincidence.” He laughs, loud enough for Giyuu to wince though he doesn’t try to shake off Sabito’s arm. “Me too!”

And when Giyuu smiles, that little half-smile that is neither here nor there, it’s like the sun is rising.