SANEGIYUU

The wind howled through the trees surrounding the Demon Slayer estate, carrying the sharp scent of rain. Sanemi Shinazugawa stood on the engawa outside the Hashira residence, arms crossed tightly as irritation simmered beneath his skin.

Across the courtyard, Giyu Tomioka sat silently beside the koi pond, watching ripples move across the water.

As usual.

Silent. Detached. Impossible to read.

Sanemi clicked his tongue. “You’re creepy, you know that?”

Giyu glanced toward him slowly. “You’ve told me that before.”

“And I’ll say it again.”

The rain finally began to fall in soft sheets between them. Neither moved.

Most people avoided Sanemi’s temper. Giyu simply… existed through it. That irritated him more than any argument ever could.

“Why’re you sitting out here?” Sanemi demanded.

Giyu looked back at the pond. “It’s peaceful.”

“Tch. You’re weird.”

A long pause followed.

Then, unexpectedly, Giyu spoke again. “You seem restless tonight.”

Sanemi frowned immediately. “Don’t analyze me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“I was observing.”

“That’s worse.”

For a brief second, Giyu’s mouth twitched upward — almost a smile.

Sanemi stared.

“You just smiled.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I don’t think so.”

Sanemi pointed accusingly. “That. Right there. That’s the face.”

The faint expression vanished instantly. “You’re imagining things.”

Rainwater dripped from the roof as thunder rolled in the distance. Despite himself, Sanemi sat down heavily across from him.

Neither spoke for several minutes.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

That annoyed Sanemi too.

“You know,” he muttered eventually, “everyone thinks you hate them.”

Giyu’s gaze lowered slightly. “I know.”

“But you don’t?”

“…Not usually.”

Sanemi snorted. “You’re terrible at talking to people.”

“I’ve noticed.”

The honesty caught him off guard.

Most people around the Hashira tried to defend themselves, especially around Sanemi. Giyu never bothered. He just answered plainly, almost painfully sincere.

“You really don’t care what people think of you?” Sanemi asked.

Giyu was quiet before answering. “That’s not true.”

The softness in his voice made Sanemi glance at him again.

For the first time, he noticed how tired Giyu looked. The shadows beneath his blue eyes. The way his shoulders stayed tense even while resting.

Like someone always waiting for a fight.

Something in Sanemi’s chest tightened unexpectedly.

“Tch. You look awful.”

“…Thank you?”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I know.”

Another silence.

Then Giyu quietly asked, “Why did you come sit over here?”

Sanemi opened his mouth with an automatic insult prepared—

—and realized he didn’t actually know.

The truth was strange.

The courtyard had felt too empty with Giyu sitting alone across it.

“That’s none of your business,” he muttered finally.

To his horror, Giyu smiled again. Slightly more visible this time.

Sanemi immediately looked away. “Quit doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“That weird face thing.”

“You mean smiling?”

“Yeah. Stop it.”

“…You’re strange.”

Sanemi barked out a laugh despite himself. “Says you.”

The rain grew heavier around them, blurring the lantern lights into gold smudges.

For once, neither Hashira seemed eager to leave.

And though neither would admit it aloud, something quiet had shifted between them — something gentler than rivalry, softer than anger.

Something neither of them quite understood yet.