Chapter Text
January 31
As you read in my past four entries, Iguro and Sanemi are dating. Officially. They announced it at the last Hashira meeting. I nearly broke down right there. I kept myself together, though. I think. Shinobu and Mitsuri announced their relationship yesterday! I'm so happy for them.
Giyuu’s pen lingered on the last punctuation, leaking more ink than was necessary. A droplet smudged the ink from previous entries. He was crying. What a joke.
“Tomioka? Is something wrong?” Tanjirou’s concern drifted into the study as Giyuu quickly wiped his tears. A small candle illuminated the small room, burning close to the end.
“Ah, Kamado, I’m fine. Please return to bed.” He shut the small journal, not turning to face the younger boy. The trio was temporarily staying with Giyuu while they recovered from their recent missions.
“If you wish, I was simply checking in!” Tanjirou smiled softly, leaning on his uninjured leg with the doorframe supporting him. “Also, according to Shinobu, the Hashiras have another meeting in three weeks. Is that true?”
Giyuu paused. He typically found out about the meetings through Shinobu or Tanjiro. Everyone always forgot to send him a letter.
“I’ll make sure to check in with her. I'm not certain. Go back to bed, kid.”
The door to the study shut with a click, signaling Tanjirou’s exit. He heard the soft bumps of the crutches as the kid returned to his room. Giyuu laid his head down on his desk, groaning. If Shinobu said it, the Hashiras had yet another meeting; they’re getting far more frequent. He didn’t want to see Sanemi and Obanai, not after what he knew. He was going to break.
Three weeks later, all seven remaining Hashiras gathered at the main estate. Giyuu tried to distance himself, as usual. No one paid him any mind. He’d figured out quickly that he would spiral himself into a panic attack after talking to Sanemi or Obanai, regardless of the topic. He worried about every little word. Tanjirou’s trio had tried to help at the start, but quickly gave up, it was too much to deal with.
The meeting was quicker than usual, as no one had any meetings to recap in the past month. Despite the instructions to mingle, Giyuu tried to leave as soon as Master went back inside the estate.
Shinobu stopped him before he went far.
“Tomioka! Come on, talk to me. You haven’t responded to my letters in weeks. What’s going on?” She grabbed his arm harshly, obviously irritated.
“Shinobu, please. Let me go. I don't want to talk right now.” He tried to pull away, to no avail. The other Hashiras stopped to watch the quarrel.
“Is this about the couples? Are our relationships,” She motioned to Sanemi and Iguro, “a problem?!” Shinobu was yelling now; no one noticed Giyuu’s flinch. He never expressed any sexual interest, and now he seemed like the dick in this situation. The others started muttering, and Mitsuri gasped, tears pricking her eyes.
He hated this attention. Giyuu never cared about being ignored, but it was never ideal. It was fine. That’s what he always said, his motto, if you will. Everything was fine.
“Shinobu, please! Just leave me alone! I don't care about you guys being gay or whatever you’re labeling your relationship. And I don't care about Shinazugawa and Obanai. Respectfully, fuck off. Please.” Giyuu finally escaped her hold and turned away, starting to walk off.
“Stop. What the hell do you think you’re doing, dickwad?! You don't get to act like you’re better than all of us, and you definitely don't have any right to be like this towards us! I think you’re the one that should fuck right off. And if you have any issues with either of these relationships, then I’ll deal with you myself.” Sanemi grabbed him this time, around his wrist. Giyuu flinched again, attempting to loosen his grasp. Shinazugawa was livid. Obanai was off to the side.
Giyuu froze up. He couldn’t speak. The two of them were too close.
“Let me… Let me go!” He started panicking, his pupils dilated, and his breathing grew rapid. He finally escaped Sanemi’s harsh grasp, ignoring the sure bruises and reopened wounds on his wrist. He rushed away to a secluded corner before he broke down.
Shinobu, comforting Mitsuri, turned to Sanemi. “Go after him. Now.” No one knew about Giyuu’s interest in the two boys, but she could always tell.
“What do you want me to do?” Sanemi raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “It’s not like we’re friends with that self-righteous brat.” He was lying to himself. Maybe, just possibly, he might think Tomioka was slightly cute. Maybe. Obviously, Obanai didn’t know. His feelings were just stupid pity… Right?
“I agree with Sanemi. I don't like his vibes, Tomioka freaks me out.” Obanai hasn’t told him the truth. He had a crush on Giyuu. But he was desperately trying to ignore it, hoping it would pass and never be heard of again.
“Just go. I can’t right now, and I really don't care how you two feel. He isn't being like himself, and I can't figure out why.” Shinobu glared, not giving them a decision.
Sanemi scoffs but follows Giyuu over to where he went, and Obanai follows hesitantly but without complaining.
Giyuu is struggling. He can’t think. Hell, he could barely breathe. His heartbeat was throbbing in his head, too fast to even think. He’s done this so many times before, to the point that he’s on meds, not that he takes them. But this was the first time in a while he’s been completely alone. He yelled at Shinobu, the girl who constantly reminded him of his older sister, and now she most definitely hated his guts. His vision was going black. He could taste blood. Nauseousness flooded his system. Was someone yelling? He couldn’t hear.
Not to mention Sanemi and Iguro… those two just watched with a look of utter disgust on their faces. And then Sanemi yelled at him. His hands were wet, was… was he crying?
Someone was still calling his name. That was getting annoying.
Hands shocked him away from the edge of passing out, shocking him back to reality. Noises flooded him. He could barely comprehend the boys in front of him. White hair. Grey eyes. Warm chest. Black hair. Yellow eye. Cold hands. His head was being held against the warmth he imagined was Shinazugawa. Cold fingers ran over raised scars on his wrist. He imagined that it was Obanai. Everything went dark.
When he woke, someone was holding him. Someone else was talking quietly. They sounded familiar. He could feel the vibrations of the person holding him when he spoke. They were both men, that much he could tell. He shifted slightly, rolling his face into the chest of the man encircling him. The other chuckled softly.
“Someone’s awake, finally.” Giyuu shot up. That was Iguro. And the person under him… was Sanemi. Who he was now straddling. Giyuu flushed a deep red. He wasn’t wearing his clothes. Someone had changed him into a bright red oversized shirt and grey sweatpants. White bandages wrapped his wrists, which he immediately went to picking at. He didn't even realize he was doing that.
“Stop,” Sanemi spoke up, grabbing his wrist lightly. “We need to talk.”
With that, he shoved Giyuu off, not showing his remorse. The three made their way to the living room. Giyuu sat in the single armchair while the couple sat together. Sanemi was being clingy with Iguro, always keeping a hand on him.
“First… what’s with the scars? I mean…” Obanai glances at his boyfriend, “We have our suspicions, but we want to hear it from you.” Giyuu understood what he was asking, but he didn't want to tell them. It was one thing to hide the scars, but he felt attention-seeking and needy if he actually told someone.
“Oh my god, just answer him, freak.” Sanemi’s mood swings had always been harsh, but Giyuu’s flinch at the nickname hadn’t gone unnoticed. Both pairs of eyes widened slightly.
“I.. Uhm, sorry. Uh.. the scars are n-nothing. I just got a cat a while ago and—”
“Bullshit. Tell the truth.” Obanai wasn’t playing games anymore, he needed the truth.
“I…. have a history… with self-injury… and I hate it but… I can’t stop…” His words lay heavily in the air, not that anyone was surprised by the revelation, but it was still hard to hear it confirmed.
Sanemi left for the kitchen, muttering something about tea. Iguro and Giyuu sat in silence for a minute or two before the former spoke up.
“I used to as well. Sanemi’s scars… they aren’t all from demons, regardless of what he says. We’re both long clean but… It’s still difficult sometimes. He gets really emotional when one of us relapses or someone he cares about mentions something close to that. And he cares for you.” He holds up a finger, telling Giyuu to wait before protesting. “We both do, Mio. Hell, I like you. We had a long talk together and… we both do.”
They sit in silence for another moment. “Really? You… You guys like me? Like… like me?”
Iguro smiled. Sanemi came back into the room and set three mugs down on the table, filled with steaming tea. “We do. Now, what was the panic attack about?”