(don't) say you love me (KNY, AkaRen)
Every morning is the same.
When he wakes up, the sky is a different shade of blue.
The sun itches, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s bright but it’s not painful. It’s hot, but it’s not burning.
He wakes up and he instinctively searches for a shadow, for somewhere to hide. He wakes up and his eyes struggle to stay open. He wakes up, sees the sun surge from the mountains and feels fear, even though it stopped burning through his skin, as the sun stopped being a threat to him months ago.
Because Akaza has been dead for a long time, and he started again as Hakuji. The human life he once abandoned is back and he was given another opportunity.
He didn’t feel like moving today, so he stayed down on the floor. On his side, the shoji laid wide open, showing him the garden, and, if he stretched enough, he could see the sky.
He remembers how it was to watch it from afar, hidden or covered from head to toe, not daring to take a step forward. He remembers how he would yearn to reach this day, guided by the empty promises and deadly orders he no longer is afraid of. But just as he remembers the present is completely different from who he used to be, his body still reacts in different ways.
We’re speaking of hundreds of years, after all.
He stared at the clouds, changing its forms with the wind, but moving in one direction still. He raises his hand to cover all of them above him. Between his fingers, there was still a light shade of blue showing on the other side. Studying the image from the floor, Hakuji realized how similar he is to the forms he’s judging.
After centuries with the same form, he more or less forgot how he looked back then when he was a mortal. It took him some time to get used to his new –and actually old– form, the pink hair and blue stripes were now both pitch black. He could no longer wear the loose clothes he used to, because now, as a human, he was sensitive to things like cold and hot weather.
And, despite the way his body changed and is still changing every day, he’s still wandering in the world with no purpose. Just like the good old days .
Getting stronger every day with no goal in mind has turned into living and surviving every day, the lack of an objective to check off every night still there, vibrant, taunting him.
He was dwelling into his thoughts a little more until he heard the creak of the wooden floor increasing on the entrance of his room. He stared at it as the door slid open, red ends, finishing detail on his blond hair welcomed him on the other side, the rather jarring image kept completing itself the more the muted noise of the shoji kept filling the silent room. There he was in all his glory, smiling at him good morning.
“You’re awake! Good! Senjuro is calling for breakfast.”
Hakuji groaned. “Can I skip breakfast today?”
“Absolutely not! You haven’t been eating properly!” Despite the severity of his words, Kyojuro still seemed to add some positivity to his voice. Almost as if every sentence he said had to finish with a smile and some stars bouncing on his head. “Let’s go, it’s not that hard!”
“For you.”
Ah fuck , he wishes he didn’t say that.
“Ahahaha! Well, that can be kinda true, after all. Senjuro makes sure of that, at least!”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he smiled, this time more tender than usual. “But you’ll have to eat everything this time.”
“Fair enough,” Hakuji sighed as he stood up from the floor, joints aching at the lack of movement for so long.
Every now and then he says stuff out of pure habit, his talkative nature, inherited from Akaza himself, is constantly telling him to reply to every sentence he hears, whether it be necessary or not.
This time, it wasn’t necessary at all.
Staring at Rengoku Kyojuro, one of the few survivors to the deadly hands of the very upper moon three – a reckless demon who kept killing for fun and the idea of getting stronger, is always difficult for him.
The man carries his life normally, sometimes with the help of his little brother or a cane if it’s a hard day for his body. But as much as he keeps saying it’s not a big deal , the guilt Hakuji feels is enough to keep apologizing casually.
A very much lost eye, a bruise on his forehead, some stuff under his skin that had to be rearranged and removed completely, he can keep enumerating things, bruises and missing parts all day long.
I did all of that , he thinks.
Hakuji knows. He knows if it were him he’d probably carry on normally thinking he got himself there, thinking of it as a result of that nature of his where he solves everything by having a well done fist fight. But something about Kyojuro’s life changing completely because of him makes his stomach revolt, his heart drop and his thoughts slow down a little.
Regret. If he were to reduce his feelings in two words, it would be guilt and regret.
When he saw him at the butterfly estate once he finally regained full consciousness in his human form, he was taken aback by the way Kyojuro treated him.
There was not an inch of anger inside his body, more than that, Kyojuro greeted him with the brightest smile known to earth. Sure, it was clearly different from what he remembers when they fought in the infinity train, less hostile and without a sword on his throat.
But that wasn’t what took him by surprise. It was how genuinely nice he was being to him. Despite knowing both of Hakuji’s sides, he was still treated as a human, rather than the murderer he used to be – checking on him regularly, talking with him on a daily basis, spending time with him, smiling at him.
“I’m the person who tried to kill you, you know?” He remembers how one day he snapped and asked Kyojuro directly, worried that maybe he wasn’t aware Hakuji used to be no one but Akaza himself.
“Hakuji is Hakuji. Akaza is Akaza. I don’t really hold grudges, you know!”
“...”
Kyojuro’s smile is a different tone of warm colors every day. On good days, it does feel genuine and reaches him from the other side. On bad days, it feels forced, something he can see from afar.
And then, there are moments like these, where his smile would show in his face, his eyes, even the bridge of his nose, wrinkles showing up on all his face, small cracks on the facade he knows well is working hard to keep together.
Either way, fake or not, his smile feels like a small breeze on a hot day, refreshing, relaxing, and very much appreciated.
“Ah! Brother, Hakuji, you’re finally here!” Senjuro, the little Rengoku, was arranging the table on his own. Like always, he was wearing the long, white apron few personnel from the butterfly estate have as uniform. Hair tightly held together by a butterfly pin he made himself. “Take a seat, you’re lucky food is still warm, I wasn’t gonna heat it again for you if you two were late!”
He’s caught quite an attitude , Hakuji thought. When he looked by his side, he found a shaky Kyojuro trying to hold his laugh back.
“So, Kyojuro,” he teased, “anything you want to say?”
He coughed, loud and clear. “Nothing at all!”
“Hm…” Hakuji continued, sitting on his side of the table as he kept speaking, “I was just saying, since you seemed to have a lot of fun getting scolded by your little brother.”
Senjuro peeked from the other room.
“No,” he scoffed, flustered. “It’s not like that, Senjuro!” he waved both hands his way, smiling awkwardly as the other pouted. “I just think Aoi’s influence is quite palpable. And seeing her where she is right now, I can only hope the best for my little brother!”
Hakuji snorted, “nice save.”
“Thank you,” Kyojuro replied, sarcasm very visible in his voice.
The smaller Rengoku disappeared from the frame for some seconds, appearing again carrying a wood tray with both hands, “I don’t really enjoy scolding patients, or people in general,” once he placed the tray on the table, he started distributing every dish to each side, “but you two really are reckless sometimes, so I have to be firm with you.”
Senjuro took the tray again, hugging it with both arms on his chest, smiling. “If you listen to my words, you two will live a very healthy life.”
Feelings are still a difficult thing to him, even today, six months after the event at the infinity fortress, he can’t tell some emotions apart. If they’re feelings he should study or actually a fight or flight reaction, he doesn’t know yet.
However, whenever he’d see Senjuro’s smile, he’d feel like crying. And it seems he wasn’t the only one. Both Hakuji and Kyojuro were holding their heads with both hands, defeated by a small boy.
“Now eat. Brother, if there’s any problem with your food just call me, okay?”
“I will!”
“Good.”
And just like that, he left.
There are many strong features coming with the Rengoku blood. Strong will, need to care for others, the desire to be a better person every day.
Even when the purpose of their entire bloodline is over now, they still find new reasons to keep on living, to improve and get stronger in new areas every time.
Hakuji doesn’t remember such strong willed humans back then. More than that, giving up was a common option among the people he met.
Even he himself gave up back then.
And honestly, lately, he doesn’t know if what he’s doing every day can’t be called giving up as well. If it weren’t for the pesty Rengoku brothers, other very persistent people who suddenly came into his life uninvited, the nurses and everyone in the butterfly estate, he wouldn’t move from his bed inside his room at all.
As much as his living body is begging him to drink, eat, move, or do anything else, meeting the demands of every inch of himself is a hard chore for him. And when he does try to satisfy the needs of his flesh and bones, he finds new, different obstacles to deal with.
Eating is the first example to come to his mind when he thinks of his current struggles.
What he has been eating for enough years to count back again has been nothing but human meat, bones, organs and drinking their blood in order to get stronger and survive in his state as a demon.
Chopped vegetables have a strange flavor, and a completely new texture to his life. Dry food, bread and fruits are tortuous meals to him, his tongue screeching in disgust whenever something touches it. Swallowing things is a whole different, dramatic and terrifying tale.
“You need to eat this, your body needs the nutrients,” those were Senjuro’s words whenever he’d complain about the flavors and highkey disgusting textures he wasn’t used to. “It’ll be difficult at first but you’ll get used to it eventually. Give it a try, okay?”
The scoreboard seemed very uneven lately. Being a demon kept gaining points the more disadvantages he found to human life.
He could keep complaining about this topic alone for days, but at least he wasn’t alone on this.
Not only Hakuji was struggling with food, but also Kyojuro. From what that nurse mentioned to him the day he regained consciousness, it seemed Kyojuro couldn’t eat whole foods, as his digestive system was more or less destroyed inside.
Most of the time, his food consisted of a ... blob , a questionable mixture of unidentifiable things put together in one plate, blended so evenly it was one unfunny and boring color that changed slightly every day.
Lately, however, Senjuro has tried to add bigger pieces to his food. He could spot the rice and other green vegetables from his site, and Kyojuro seemed to enjoy it so far.
“You always try to think of a positive outcome from every hardship,” Hakuji mentioned. “I don’t get it, shit’s hard for you. Why do you do it?”
“If I don’t, then who will?”
I could , a thought appeared quite literally from nowhere.
He can’t deny he’s being negative beyond repair, that he’s regretting his choice to turn back into a human instead of paying his quota in hell –which he considers will be slightly better than the direction his life is taking right now– and he’s not really trying to see the good outcome for this, but something in Kyojuro made him try to find and be the better version of himself.
And he barely understands why.
The moon is out now.
He remembers how the moment the first star appeared in the sky, it was his time to work.
But now, he’s simply sitting on the engawa, staring at the empty void above him again. Besides training to not lose muscle mass at the neglectful ways he acts towards his body, he doesn’t really do much during the day.
The only changes in his routine are the creaking noises of the wooden floor announcing someone was near him.
And that someone is the same –and only– person that comes to visit him from time to time.
“You’re here!”
“You’re here, too.”
“Haha! Yes, what a coincidence, Isn’t it?” he struggled a little, but he finally sat by his side. “This place is so big, and we always get to find each other somehow.”
“Call it destiny.”
“That may be true, yes.”
They sat in silence, perhaps a little uncomfortable for him, but that didn’t seem to be the case on the other side.
He stared at Kyojuro, the lights coming from one of the rooms behind them, as well as the moonlight looming over them gave him a vague image of his silhouette, hands holding a small folded paper and a cup of water.
“Time for your meds?” he asked.
Kyojuro perked up, as if something had him distracted and was brought back to earth. “Yes! I was trying to avoid it, but Senjuro found me anyway.”
Hakuji sighed in a pitiful attempt of a laugh. “It must be nice to have someone take care of you.”
There was no answer.
The only trait he would find quite remarkable in all the things he doesn’t understand about Rengoku Kyojuro, it would be the way whatever facade he’s trying to wear to get through the day never breaks, not where everyone could see, at least.
This silence felt like an open wound, as if the prettiest of vases in the house, one that was set over a table with a missing leg and would not stop tilting forward and backwards screaming about the imminent lack of safety had fallen and broken into multiple pieces. But there was no noise, nor anyone who could hear it. And the moment anyone would stumble upon the broken masterpiece, it was far too late to fix again.
Hakuji stretched his arm trying to reach for the person that refused to look his way, sitting in the most heart wrenching silence that ever reached his ears.
As soon as he felt his hand touch his shoulder, Kyojuro stretched his back and took his medicine in one movement, then he took the cup of water and drank everything in one long sip.
After some seconds trying to assimilate the flavor, he finally spoke, “so bitter!”
Hakuji would pressure Kyojuro into explaining what on earth just happened, but he decided not to out of respect and not wanting to overstep any boundaries.
“Do you want to drink some tea so the flavor fades?”
“Oh! Sure!”
***
Days after that night, Hakuji began to understand some things.
First of all, he’s aware he’s not the only one struggling in any form. And he knew very well Kyojuro wasn’t having the best of times either.
But, for some reason, it didn’t feel that way for him.
It could be because he responds to everything with a smile, and a fierce unwavering strength that does not kneel to any evil. Or because whenever Hakuji asked Kyojuro what was the point, he’d always have an answer. It could be because unlike him, Kyojuro actually tried and worked hard to get better.
But even the strongest gods can have a bad day sometimes, right?
With this in mind, Hakuji began to see holes in Kyojuro’s pattern.
After that day, and the seemingly harmless words Hakuji said to him, Kyojuro seemed a lot more tired, as if he didn’t sleep during the night. He would zone out many times whenever Senjurou would take care of him, and apologized way more frequently.
In the absence of someone looking out for him during nights, the image he thought was once so bright and almost intimidating to some point would fall to the darkness of the sky, the silence of the garden, and the cold breeze capable of extinguishing his strong flame.
He began to wonder – could it be that he finally is facing a crack, a rupture so big on his facade that he no longer has the power to seal it back and pretend nothing happened?
Superhuman powers aren’t there for him anymore, the potent compass that would allow him to see through mortals’ will to fight and dig further to find their weaknesses is not there for his aid, no matter how hard he tries to channel it.
Either way, he’s not blind to the obvious signals Kyojuro is showing.
Now, the real issue is…
“How do I even approach it nicely?” he mumbled as he hung the long sheets from the butterfly estate’s nursery outside in the backyard. “He won’t even mention it…”
Learning to live an entire routine with Kyojuro wasn’t that hard, he struggled a bit to get accustomed to his presence, yes, but he learned to deal with it after a while, setbacks and all. But even if things between them became a routine, there was a big part that was completely new to him.
And perhaps, for both of them as well.
What is there to talk about with Kyojuro, if it isn’t about the people he cares about so much that their relevance in his life is and will always be way over his own wellbeing?
Picking up the now empty laundry basket, Hakuji went inside the building and decided to ask the nurses if there were any other clothes left to hang and dry.
Only then, by the time he peeked on the door, he found Senjuro sweeping the floor.
“Ah, Hakuji! Good thing I found you,” he studied the floor under him cautiously with his sight. “Could you wait for me outside?”
“Sure,” he raised the empty basket with one hand. “Where do I leave this?”
“Outside!”
“Noted,” he headed back from where he came, carrying the weightless basket with one hand. Given the deadly stare on Senjuro’s face, Hakuji assumed it was gonna take a while before he was done with the clean up.
He decided to sit on the engawa, a different angle to where he tends to frequent at nights. The only visible thing from this side were the waving white pieces of cloth covering the entire place, walls to a different labyrinth on the other side.
It was a boring and depressing view.
The people who slept on those beds , he began to wonder, how many of them have died?
A fast, unwanted image crossed his mind. One hard enough he could feel how a piercing fist pushed through his chest, squeezing the heart that was hiding behind now broken ribs.
His body froze in place for what felt like an eternity. Once he finally managed to go back on his senses, he leaned forward, right hand gripping on his knee as the other held his head, squeezing his temples. The air felt incredibly thicker, as hard to swallow as the food he has to deal with every day.
Suppressing his painful memories is also another quality he lost from when he was a demon. The past is nothing but that, he knows. But things don’t hurt any less because of that.
Hakuji tried different methods - stop breathing, then breathing again, breathing through his nose and releasing the air through his mouth, trying the same thing but the other way around, all of those failed attempts. Eventually, after gasping for air erratically, he found his pace again, his body sighing in relief at the realization he wasn’t gonna die, not anytime soon.
By the time he felt was back on his feet, he finally raised his head, looking through his fingers. How unfortunate it was to find the small person that talked to him early already waiting for him.
“...Sorry about that.”
“No, no, don’t apologize,” Senjuro sat on his side, concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m fine, healthy, alive and all of that.”
“...Okay.”
The silence was incredibly awkward for both of them.
“...Now I feel a little bit embarrassed for asking you this…” he seemed to struggle a little to get his words out, staring at his hands, interlacing his fingers and playing with them.
“Huh?”
Nervous hands forming bridges and other figures turned into two fists, determined. By the time Senjuro raised his head, Hakuji could read all of his insecurities on that face, the biggest fear so far was a big and resounding no . “Can you help me figure out what’s going on with my brother?”
What’s with the timing…
Intimidated by the cold eye contact between them, Senjuro stared at the same white background Hakuji was looking at before. “I don’t know if you’ve seen what I see… but he’s been acting weird and I don’t know how to ask him if he’s alright...and I’m so worried about him I don’t know what to do...”
Oh man, and when I tell you I’m no different from you.
“I thought, because you two seem to be really close, maybe you could help me with that…”
“Close?”
Hakuji started to zone out exactly after Senjuro asked him the big question, one single word was what brought him back to earth. The shock and surprise that came from that term was shown in his voice, which came maybe a little too loud for everyone’s taste.
On the other side, the teen’s face went pale with fear, then it switched to a bright red almost immediately. He shook both hands in front of him, embarrassed. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!! I-I thought you two-since you’re always together--”
Hakuji sighed, holding his head with one hand. “I’ll try to figure out what’s wrong.”
The muttering machine sitting on his side stopped abruptly, staring at him now with light on his eyes, “Really? Thank you!” he hopped towards the grass, standing in front of him now. “Take your time, there’s no pressure, really. If you find something please tell me, okay? I need to leave now, but thank you again!”
Analyzing how he should approach Kyojuro now that he agreed to his little brother’s petitions, he didn’t find the right moment to reply back to Senjuro’s neverending words.
They lived together for so long, and yet, Senjuro can’t seem to know a thing about his brother. But is he really to blame?
Young people are often protected by their older counterparts, that includes hiding things such as difficult emotions they won’t be able to handle at their age. Or something like that was what that kid with a scar on his forehead said.
This shouldn’t be part of his worry for the moment. There is a bigger, important question he’s supposed to be asking himself right now.
He stood up and promptly walked towards one of the trees from the backyard, sitting between it and the fence on the other side. There was a comfortable amount of sunlight crossing the leaves, so his body didn’t react in any form to the light. He crossed his arms again, staring at the green foliage dancing in the sky.
What is his current plan of action? Asking him directly, indirectly? Pressure him to answer, to say something? Perhaps starting with a personal fact to motivate a heart to heart conversation?
They’ve never talked about this. Deep conversations between them are just moments of silence, staring at nothing together. If he wanted to find a complex answer only humans could put into words, the answer he would find in Kyojuro would be just his simple and straightforward point of view.
Asking him directly and pushing him to find an answer he was probably not ready to give wasn’t bound to end well between them. So all those ideas were pointless. Hakuji scratched them.
What if he just waits for the right moment to come?
He thoroughly calculated the pros and cons of certain ways to approach Kyojuro on the manner. He was so immersed in his thoughts that, by the time he finally came to a satisfying conclusion, it was already nighttime.
“Ah. Skipped a meal,” Hakuji concluded. “How sad!” he added immediately after.
He quietly sneaked into his room, afraid that anyone who would be awake could hear him and scold him for disappearing without leaving a trace –it would be a lie, since he was in the same building as them–. After walking in the dark corridors for some minutes, he finally found his safe place.
Only to find, on the other side, no one but the very person that had been invading his thoughts the last few days.
For once, he didn’t feel fear or threatened – well, he never did. But there was always a feeling of an invisible wall between them. Whether it was him who put it in the middle or not is not relevant at the moment.
Something in the way Kyojuro stared back at him felt different, weaker.
In front of him, there was a small table with two cups of tea, and an empty plate. Only crumbs could be seen on what was supposed to lay on it. Kyojuro was sitting with both hands on his lap, waiting.
“Took you long enough!” he smiled.
Hakuji closed the shoji behind him, “yeah, got distracted outside and lost track of time.”
“Oh? what were you thinking about?”
Well, you?
He pulled out a lie from under his sleeves as he sat on the other side of the table, right in front of Kyojuro, “I was thinking of new training methods. I’ve been feeling like I’m not doing enough.”
“Ah...that so…”
Hakuji grabbed the cup of tea laying in front of him with one hand, tilting it slightly to see it was full, “so what’s all of this about?”
“Oh! I didn’t see you around during dinner, so I bought a small snack for you.”
“And you ate it?”
“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to come this late! And I was getting hungry, too.”
He tried to find the other’s sight, who seemed lost in the empty plate. “Yeah? you ate it with no problems, too?”
Kyojuro finally raised his head, staring at him directly. He seemed pretty shocked about his question. “Yes I did!”
“Good to know.”
Hakuji finally took a long sip from his cup. Tastes like shit, just like always , he thought, visible grimace all over his face.
They sat in silence again, staring at the open view leading to the garden. The moon is bright as always, even if the clouds around it were dense and numerous.
Bright, despite everything. He wondered if there was something that finally could beat Kyojuro at anything. He gave a small peek to his side, and he was taken aback by the sight he failed to see so many times.
He was always aware about many features the Rengoku family has, as he’s been watching two of them closely and interacted with them almost on a daily basis. He memorized every detail to the core, analyzing every inch he could as if it were a hobby of his. But every time he stares at Kyojuro, there’s something new, charming to his aura and his character.
Hakuji can’t tell what exactly, but he knows something; it drives him closer, despite his neverending fear of being unwanted into his life, and the regret that he’s there solely because some demon slayers –whose work was clearly murder people like him– decided to spare his life.
A short distance between them, one Kyojuro himself procured to shorten every day. It was more than an arm’s length – close enough to overwhelm him, but not enough to even grasp the other side. Hakuji could try, but it wouldn’t be enough to touch what’s close to him and so, so far at the same time.
A stretched arm pointing towards his back, hanging lazily, without any effort given. At the sight that he couldn’t reach the other end, intimidating as it is, Hakuji would give up every day.
And despite the frustration, was there a point in trying?
The moonlight caressed Kyojuro’s face oh so gently, the tips of his own fingers would itch for something, a burning desire his body craved but he couldn’t really agree with.
He leaned forward, one elbow on the table, “So...”
“Hm?”
“What really brings you here?”
It’s true, they’re used to spending time together at random. They’re so used to it, actually, that it feels weird to not chat every now and then and just hang out together in the boring life inside the butterfly estate, being the only company they have for each other.
But that rarely ends with one inside the other’s room. If ever, because it has never happened.
“Could it be that you finally have fallen for my charms?”
A notorious frown drew on his face, an awkward smile barely saving him, “Absolutely not!”
“Alright, then,” with the help of his forearm putting all the pressure on the table, he stood up, walking idly until he was in front of the blond, “I guess I have to be the one starting this conversation.”
He opted to crouch in front of him, eyes locking together, no room to run away to. “What’s wrong, Kyojuro?”
Perhaps it was too abrupt, maybe he shouldn’t have pushed too hard. The tempting view of the other’s silhouette just barely away enough he could feel the cold tips of his fingers touching him made him go too far, for the first time in so long.
Maybe it was unnecessary, but he was far past the small barrier settled between them to back up now.
He was found with silence, visible surprise on his face, unable to decipher what to say next.
“If you don’t want to answer-”
“No, it’s fine,” Kyojuro finally replied, his voice visibly softer than usual.
Hakuji sat in front of him, hands on the floor and legs extended.
“Go ahead, then.”
“I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“I don’t really have another option, since you’re in my room now,” he scanned him, up and down, “besides, there’s quite a lot of people who worry about you, popular boy,” he explained with one lazy hand.
He couldn’t say there were people past the two he knows –him and Senjuro– that are wondering what’s wrong with him, but considering the insane amount of visits he gets from different people throughout the week, he probably isn’t wrong.
“They worry about me, huh.”
“They do, why wouldn’t they?”
Kyojuro stared at his hands again, then back to the table. “When did I become so weak... that I have to depend on others, instead of protecting them?”
Hakuji, as ironic as it may sound, could now feel something piercing through his chest. An inherited memory? Years of karma coming back to him?
“It hit me suddenly, when I realized Senjuro was the one taking care of me, when it should be the other way around, you know?” with one hand, Kyojuro held his head, almost exhausted. “For years, I was the one in charge of everything. I was the one who would make sure Senjuro lived a happy life, away from all the stress and pain that came with our bloodline.”
He scoffed, “now look at me. I had to quit the corps, Senjuro took care of things, and I became a burden.”
“You’re not a burden-”
“Maybe I’m not. Yeah, for them--for all of you, maybe I’m not.”
Hakuji doesn’t know a thing about Kyojuro’s life. He learned about a quarter of them by simply connecting the dots and some other gossip he got from other pillars and the nurses, but in the end nothing can be true unless it’s told by the very person who lived all of that.
He can’t understand what he feels like, because he’s never been in his position.
And, as brutal as it may sound, the reason Kyojuro’s life changed so abruptly is the one in charge to reassure him now.
“Strong people must protect the weaker. But what happened is that it turns out I wasn’t truly strong, but simply lucky.” with both hands on the table, he stared at Hakuji. Still afraid of making any sort of eye contact. “I made my entire life about being the protector, about being the role model...”
“There are no demons to fight now, and I became completely useless,” Kyojuro concluded.
After some minutes of silence, Hakuji took his turn to speak. “Your entire existence isn’t based on how many demons you killed, or how many people you protected.”
“But what if it is actually like that?”
“Then you’re wrong. Then the people who convinced you of that were all wrong.”
Kyojuro was awestruck, almost offended.
“Like--fuck, okay.” He realized now how much he sucks at advice, despite his old ass age. “I could understand how frustrating it could be to have your little brother protecting...taking care of you now. But have you ever asked him if he’s angry or upset at you because you suddenly stopped being the roof over his head protecting him from the rain?”
“...He’s gonna say no,” he smiled, bitter.
Seeing Kyojuro like this reminded him of a lot of people from his past life.
No, he can’t understand how it is to suddenly become dependent on others, but he does know how it feels to not be able to protect those you love. And he does understand how it feels when your life changes from training your brains out every day and night to get stronger, just for things to be over in front of you.
What do you do now, that the only thought inside your head, kill all demons , is nothing but a forgotten duty?
He pointed at him with an open palm. “You,” Kyojuro stared at him, and Hakuji tried to reorganize his words. “It sucks to hear, but sometimes the best thing you can do is keep on living.”
On the other side, a confused man tilted his head like a puppy.
“I mean, uh.” Hakuji immediately averted his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “You’re upset because your own goal in life was to protect, to kill that man , and if that means to die doing it, then die. But you lived, and then...” he gestured as vaguely as he could, “all your ideals and goals went to the trash, both for the better and the worse. What are you supposed to do now?”
“I don’t think you get it.”
“No the fuck I don’t,” he scoffed. “But, if it works for you, at the very least I understand your frustration on learning to live again.”
“...”
“You just need to find a new goal.”
“And what about Senjuro?”
“He already found his new goal, you know. He saw his brother can’t be there for him anymore, but he realized he can be there for you.” Those could’ve been the smartest words that came from his mouth, to the point even he himself was surprised about it.
Kyojuro closed his eye for a few seconds, then he nodded. “Seems I was focusing too much on the negative side of things.”
“It’s not bad, you know. You can’t be happy all the time,” Hakuji felt the tension leave his body, his back muscles aching instantly. “You just need to talk with people when you feel like you’re drowning.”
“I guess you’re right,” he stretched his arms over his head, groaning a little. Then he stared at him, this time his face seemed brighter, enough to outpower the moon blessing the room with different tones of blue. “You’re a nice person, Hakuji.”
He couldn’t say anything to that.
Once he was done, Kyojuro politely asked Hakuji to bring the now dirty dishes to the kitchen tomorrow, to which he agreed. After that, he left him alone with the growing silence of the night.
And as soon as he found himself on his own, the thoughts began to flow.
I was the one who did that .
And yet, he is still here . Why?
He’s still asking him, out of all people, for advice. He’s still talking to him about mundane things, he’s still willing to live a routine with him, and share the same space as him. Why?
Such thoughts couldn’t get through his skull. The guilt Hakuji was feeling was incommensurable, almost eating him alive.
He wasn’t a demon anymore, the pain in his body when he overworks himself, the palpitations of his heart he could clearly hear every night, the hunger and thirst from every day were clear reminders of that. But whenever he thinks of the damage he did to the people he hurt, he can feel his body disintegrate into dust, painful and slow.
When it came to Kyojuro, it turned worse. He can’t truly understand why, exactly, but the more he thinks about it the more it aches inside his chest.
Something about the idea of how different his life would be now if Akaza had done his work back then makes him feel immense denial.
He can no longer imagine a world without Kyojuro.
But how dare he say this, when he hurt him so much? Akaza broke him and his core and turned him into the person he is right now. How dare he say he wants to be by his side when he is the person that drove the Rengoku family to this breaking point?
Seeing Kyojuro’s facade shattering and falling, showing how truly broken he is inside, completely exhausted, calling himself such words hurt Hakuji to no end, and it awakened in him something he thought was deep buried inside.
He wanted to protect him, as much as Kyojuro doesn’t want to be helped by anyone. And if protecting him was out of the conversation, then it was to be there by his side in silence, and if that wasn’t allowed either, at least to take care of him from afar.
The thought alone almost made him laugh, the turns life has taken for him were insanely narrow and sharp, and is now facing the mistakes he did.
He can’t fix those things, he can’t pretend apologizing will suddenly change things, he can’t pretend that being there will suddenly heal all of Kyojuro’s wounds –physical and moral– and make life a happy fairytale where actions have no consequences and his hands aren’t dirty with blood.
Being here is not gonna do anything. Hakuji being around is not what Kyojuro needs.
Perhaps that’s the answer to this , he wondered.
Kyojuro clearly doesn’t need him, he doesn’t need to be reminded of such a horrible event in his life. And, as much as it hurts, Hakuji’s face is the same as Akaza, his body is still the same, and deep inside he’s the same person, too. That he regained his memory and learned a bit of self-awareness yes, that’s true; but it doesn’t take that fact away.
I can’t keep hurting him .
There’s people by his side that deserve more time than what Kyojuro gives him. And, from all people, he doesn’t deserve to be there.
...
… ...
… … ...
Submerged in his thoughts, he didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. By the time he woke up, the sun was already on the other side of the sky; it was past noon.
Even when he slept far more than what he usually does, he was still exhausted. However, whenever he tried to sleep, some little bitch inside his head kept repeating the chant from last night.
You don’t deserve to be here .
“Listen,” he mumbled.
The permanent thought isn’t a today thing, it has always been there since the day he regained consciousness as a human – that he shouldn’t be there, that he should leave and stay alone abandoned in the woods were thoughts that came to visit periodically.
Another thing about human life that he didn’t particularly enjoy was how heavy your morals can weigh, and how difficult it is to ignore emotions such as regret.
They would get annoying, extremely so. To the point not even the most exhausting of exercises on the most demanding training could shut them off. He wanted to run away from guilt many times, but it was impossible.
Hakuji wasn’t allowed to leave the butterfly estate, not unless he was accompanied by a person, and not unless he would finally be considered healthy enough to wander on his own in the outside world. And especially not unless he gives up and learns how to behave as a human being, as a member of society.
Yes, even if we’re talking about the same world that abandoned you.
He refused to acknowledge humans besides those who have shown kindness as people worthy of respect, things may have changed over time, sure. But that doesn’t mean everyone in the world will be the same as the Rengoku family, or the part he knows.
In short – he can’t leave. Both because he is not allowed and because he doesn’t want to.
Many excuses he can put to himself in the matter, but the issue still stands.
He should distance himself from Kyojuro, for his own good.
Of course, this was no easy feat. He avoided him like he could, but Kyojuro would come back, like the ball you toss to the wall and come back to your hands. If he replied back to him with a harsh tone, he wouldn’t even falter, more than that, it was almost as if he seemed used to it, so he kept talking about whatever he felt like talking about.
Days later, Hakuji’s replies morphed from cold, harsh words to monosyllables.
And he kept coming back. Picking him up every morning to eat, every afternoon for lunch, every night for a cup of tea.
As much as he wanted to agree, to say yes to all his petitions, he knew deep inside he was doing more harm than good by giving him what he wanted. Because, seriously, who is that silly to forgive the very person that tried to end him, brainwashed or not?
Hakuji had to stay still and not give up to what his heart kept screaming. He had to endure some more until Kyojuro gets his message, if he ever does.
Little did he know that the Rengoku persistence would cease one day, where one morning he wasn’t greeted on his door, where no one came to pick him up if he was taking too much to eat breakfast.
What Kyojuro was for Hakuji was a mystery even for himself. He couldn’t say he absolutely enjoyed his daily presence, but he also didn’t despise it. Yes, his bold personality and lack of touch on some topics was an abrupt change to him –yes, him, who used to live between demons, who aren’t precisely any form of civilization–, but after a while he got used to it.
And that was the main problem right now – he got used to it.
Endurance, that’s one of the pillars of his training. Do not give up, no matter what. He never once failed to follow that rule.
But right now, he could not prevent himself from staring at the empty entrance to his room.
What is this thing he is feeling right now? Why does it ache, as if he had been just pinned down to the floor and battered mercilessly until he lost his last gasp of air? Why does it hurt so much that he can’t move?
He could not give himself the space to complain, because he very well knew this was going to happen. He knew this was an evident outcome to his actions. But, if he knew, then, why does it feel like this?
He got used to it .
What Kyojuro and he had was a routine, a daily routine that was almost monotonous, but exciting enough that it was something he would look forward to. There goes his first mistake.
“Don’t you get tired of doing the same thing every day?” he asked back then.
Of course, as always, he was greeted with a chuckle. “Well, it’s not really the same thing,” he pointed at him with a lazy gaze, and a quiet smile, “the grace of human life relies on how every person has always something new to bring for others. Like you.”
He didn’t get it back then. But it’s obvious and clear as water now.
Who would say it had to be Kyojuro’s absence that made him realize that.
Even when it felt physically impossible every day that went by, he kept the promise he made to himself. And so, days kept going by painfully, without talking with Kyojuro or even looking his way if they ever were in the same room.
Akaza wasn’t like that, he remembers. He felt some interest in Kyojuro, or perhaps the Rengoku bloodline – but it never was something like this.
And that would be the second mistake – getting to know someone that was simply a subject of interest back in the day.
Gathering information from others conversations as if he were a hitman, following him around like a lost, starving kitten. Staying by his side and listening to this blabbering, often with pieces of his own truth beneath his words. Listening to him, asking him things, seeing him as an example to follow.
Completing himself and his own image thanks to Kyojuro.
He was sitting on the engawa, looking as miserable as he physically could.
Everywhere, on every corner, he saw Kyojuro’s absence.
On that side on the left corner, Kyojuro helped Hakuji with his stamina training. That was the hardest shit he ever did.
“No,” he gasped for air, hands on his knees. “There isn’t gonna be a next time.”
“It was barely day one, though? You’ll get better over time!”
“I said,” he covered his mouth, something coming back all the way from his stomach. He swallowed it back, and continued, “I said no next time.”
Kyojuro smiled, eyebrows furrowed, “your loss!”
If he looked inside, the empty space was filled with memories. If he stared at himself, there were marks that brought him back to the same thoughts.
Hakuji still couldn’t put a name to the things he feels. He casually asked the Kamado kid, who came to visit the other day, what were these emotions about.
“Don’t you think that’s quite obvious?”
“If I knew, would I be asking you?”
He snorted, “well, no. But I think you already know what it is about, no?”
“No.”
Tanjirou sighed. Some stress could be sensed through his smile. “So, let’s see the bigger picture, shall we?”
“Okay.” Shame. He felt so embarrassed to be asking a literal teenager what the hell was wrong with him. A demon who lived over a few hundred years and has seen terrible things can’t bring himself to face his own emotions in this very sensitive time.
“You decided that, for the sake of Rengoku’s own good, it was better to take distance from him, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And now that you are on your own, you miss him and your body hurts and your chest feels... like…”
“Like it’s been stepped on until my ribcage is completely broken, yes.”
“...Okay…” Tanjirou crossed his arms, looking at him as if he was waiting for something back.
“You just repeated what I said.”
“Hakuji, I think you need to ask yourself why your emotions are so strong towards Rengoku, and figure this out on your own. If I tell you the answer you need now , it will ruin things up,” he smacked his palms together in front of him, bowing slightly. “Sorry!”
After that, Tanjirou stood up and left. Just like that.
He knows far too well that this will end up in the brats’ mouths as some silly gossip spreads around like the flu.
That is the least of his concerns right now, but the very reason he is sitting right now, more or less rotting in his site while repeating the kid’s words and trying to find answers between the gaps. What is it that is preventing him from finding the so evident answer that is in front of him?
“Man, why is human life so complex?” he whined with a soft voice.
He raised his head, hard. One hand covering his mouth, evident shock in his eyes.
The third mistake Hakuji committed was refusing to leave his life as a demon aside, not acknowledging that he is a living being
He’s a human now, and his days are something he mustn’t waste so freely like he’s doing right now. Before, his last day was blurry, and it got more and more distant the stronger he got; he was immortal, an undefeatable monster who would only grow invincible the more time passed by. He was an unstoppable force that kept moving forward, never thinking about the day of his death not even once.
But now, his days are counted, his body is aging and it will give up on him one day. One day, he will be old enough he won’t be able to move from his bed, and slowly, he will pass away.
Alone.
No.
Without Kyojuro.
He felt numb all at once. His entire body weakened by a chain of words that popped in his head one after the other with no certain objective.
If my days are counted--if there is an end to this life, I hope I get to see that day by your side .
Hakuji refused to separate himself from Akaza, rightfully so. But the more he kept merging with the monster he used to be, the less he would allow himself to feel his own feelings, which were throbbing strong and bleeding inside his chest.
He wants to see Kyojuro, he wants to be with him now and forever.
Can he allow himself to be selfish, even if it’s just once?
Even if it’s for his whole life?
***
Whenever he thinks about it, he can feel the heat travel all the way to his ears.
Kyojuro is not well known for having touch , or dealing with his own emotions at all. He is very much aware of this flaw of his. Acting tough to his own feelings resulted in him being unable to hold them back when he dares acknowledge them.
And that’s what happened the other night.
He doesn’t really know why, but he found himself breaking into Hakuji’s room, bringing something to eat and drink with him.
Something inside him said that, if he was feeling unwell, at least Hakuji would sweet things up, no?
Because, as bad as it can sound, the reason he is trying so hard lately is to see him every day. He sees Hakuji almost as his fountain of vitability, a rush of energy for whenever he’s close to giving up.
As bitter and awkward as Hakuji can act like, Kyojuro knows there’s a lot more than what he shows to be. No, not that ruthless, dangerous facade he once used to be – not a destructive, violent person who is capable of the worst, nothing like that.
What he sees in Hakuji is everyday life.
For him, it’s when he complains because Kyojuro spilled food on his clothes, and that would mean him washing it minusciously by hand; when he takes a long pause to stare at the way the sun bounces on his skin; when he asks him the weirdest questions about human life, trying really hard to find his own path again as a living being.
He sees in Hakuji moments like these, when he sits by his side and they both watch the sun leave and the moon rise, when he trains on his own, when he’s playful, when he refuses to hold back.
When he's sorry.
When he gets worried.
Hakuji is Hakuji, Akaza is Akaza. Those words will be the ultimate truth for him. They’re different, though they once shared the same body.
Kyojuro adapted to things easily. Quite fast, actually. When he saw he was going to share the same space as the very person whose first impression was his demon self, of course he was wondering what it would be like. But he wasn’t scared, not angry either. He was curious. He wanted to see him, to meet the person he once was.
And, to his surprise, there was more to what he expected.
Once he got out of Hakuji’s room, Kyojuro wanted to scream into his hands. But instead, he went to sleep.
He never gave a thought on how damaging being openly vulnerable to someone could be to a relationship, as he never truly reached the point of being honest to himself in front of other people.
But, whenever he would think about it, he never reached a conclusion similar to what’s happening right now.
Not a word, not a stare. There was nothing directed at him. It took him so long to warm up to him, but it took just a small exchange to make him revert to that cold aura he thought he had managed to get rid of. How come one night made things go back to the very first day living together?
He didn’t like this, he didn’t like it at all. He didn’t particularly enjoy being ignored in any situation by any person, but after a while, he got used to people not listening to him and turning their backs on him, too.
Given how frequent it was in his own personal life, he got used to it. But something in Hakuji giving him the cold shoulder made his blood boil, and his heart ache.
Kyojuro is no stupid to things like these. He knew there was something that would quietly flutter inside him and make his heart race for a little whenever he’d think about Hakuji, but he never got to think it was anything past a good friendship, or a person he simply shares the place with and enjoys being around with.
So things like these do hurt a little more than it should, let it be a friendship or something more.
He knew the awkwardness was palpable for everyone sharing the room with them at the time. It was blatantly obvious that there was something going on, whenever he wanted to see it or not.
In Kyojuro, there was something that finally made Hakuji get tired of him. And that reason was painfully obvious and evident.
He felt ridiculous. To some extent, he knew he shouldn’t have said a thing that night, he shouldn’t have shown the most bitter, sad and exhausting part of himself. The neverending insecurities, complaints and fears are exhausting to whoever gets to face them. Why did he think things would be different with Hakuji?
What exactly made him think Hakuji was going to accept and embrace him with the endless flaws he carries on his back? Did he want that?
...What is that , exactly?
Every day, he felt closer to him. The routine between them turned into a silly game where every touch would have a lot more importance than it actually could have, every silence shorter than it actually is, and every word would be more impactful than before.
Living together, sharing the same space that welcomed them with deadly wounds and broken hearts made them face each other’s pains and flaws almost immediately. There was no longer anything to fear from each other, as they shared the same strengths and weak spots on different days, in the few months they’ve been spending together.
He knew more and more about Hakuji, just as he also kept learning new things about Kyojuro.
Perhaps, in the end, he was the only one who craved more, and wanted to touch more, reach more from what was awaiting on the other side than what he was allowed?
Kyojuro sat on the usual spot, the one they always shared together, every day, after waking up and before going to sleep. He woke up early in the morning, and sat in this same place to grasp the morning sun. In the end, and after severe attempts to get Hakuji to talk to him again, he finally resigned and accepted all of his attempts to potentially cut ties with him permanently, and he gave up.
The garden was as beautiful as it has always been. But it didn’t make him feel joy anymore.
He not only wants to be accepted, to be heard, to have someone by his side. Those are needs he had been begging for, but often hiding from his own self to take care of.
He wants Hakuji to be the one staying by his side.
It is truly a simple thought, in his opinion. There’s no beyond processing behind that.
Before reaching this point, Kyojuro never thought of how simple human life really is, past the training he was put under from a young age, owing revenge for those who died in the hands of what seemed to be a growing plague that was put an end just in time, there was no window for him to enjoy the small pleasures of life, even if he pretended to.
If he sat on a bench, staring at nowhere just like he is right now, he wouldn’t be at peace knowing there was a calamity happening underneath this virtual happiness that only lasted as long as the last ray of sun laid upon his skin. If he happened to be eating, if not sleeping, he would not find the fun of it, as that would be time he would perfectly be spending on training.
His existence was to be a small soldier getting stronger every day to meet the ultimate goal of finding the peace people were unaware they didn’t have secured.
Now, what is there to do now?
It sucks to hear, but sometimes the best thing you can do is keep on living.
He kept on living, he survived and kept on living. He wasn’t happy with that idea, as his entire world crumbled in front of him, and he had to see his friends and part of his family risking everything in the last battle. Countless lives lost in front of him as he was unable to keep on fighting.
How was he supposed to enjoy the opportunity of living another day in the name of those who he didn’t protect?
All your ideals and goals went to the trash, both for the better and the worse. What are you supposed to do now?
Every day seemed tortuous for him, guilt eating him alive as he could do nothing but try to recover.
And then, where he would sit alone, train alone, wander inside the place mindlessly, eat on the table with the help of his little brother, there was suddenly someone else to keep him company.
You just need to find a new goal.
How funny it must’ve been for him to realize the new goal, the new reason to keep on trying was nothing but him , stuttering and fidgeting to find words and prevent Kyojuro to simply break apart in front of him.
It’s not fair.
For him, it’s not fair for things to end like that, so abruptly, so painfully fast that he didn’t get to taste what it felt to be genuinely happy with another person.
It was so unfair.
Just as he kept dwelling on the vast world of self-pity, he saw a shadow grow by his side.
He tried to stare at who was the person behind the black stain under the sun, but the light was strong enough he could only see a silhouette above him. Only when he sat by his side could he easily distinguish every different feature, unique in his own way, from the person staring directly at him, from an even height now.
“If you want, I can leave,” was Kyojuro’s response.
“Nah, no. It’s okay, I came here to apologize.”
“Apologize and what else?”
“... well, apologize and explain myself,” Hakuji sighed, “is that a good answer?”
He simply stared at him in silence.
“I’m sorry.”
Hakuji seemed impatient, seeking words that he wasn’t sure were the correct ones. His hands were on both knees, the grip he had on them tense enough to give Kyojuro an idea of what was going inside his mind.
“Can I ask you something first? Before you say anything”
“...sure.”
Kyojuro breathed through his nose, deep and long. Not so good memories came when he repeated the same breathing exercise he once used to fight for his life.
“The reason for this… does it have to do with the things I said that night?”
Hakuji’s shoulders tensed up, releasing immediately after. At the sight, something crumbled a little inside him. So it was true , he thought.
So, it was true. That there’s something wrong with him and that’s enough to push people away, that maybe Hakuji wasn’t ready for this kind of vulnerability and being exposed to it directly was enough to make him take distance from him.
Despite convincing himself every day that the answer was none but that, something inside him hoped for a different outcome.
The man sitting on his side finally replied, “when I heard that you were struggling, I felt guilty.”
Something wasn’t fitting in place inside Kyojuro’s mind.
“Sort of… like… well, Akaza…”
A small smile escaped, a default response. “But you two-”
“--are different, yes, that’s easy for you to say, Kyojuro. But in the end it was this body that hurt you.”
Hakuji seemed angry and upset with himself. Emotions that were bottled up and despite him trying to set them free, they didn’t come out, they didn’t flow or move. It was almost as if they were frozen in place.
“I don’t get it,” he insisted.
A sigh was the first response he got. “I always felt guilt because of that. When you came that night to tell me everything, I realized that it was all because of me , and I couldn’t stand that.”
“So you left?”
Hakuji cleared his throat.
“Yes, I left. I ran away, I ignored you and pretended there was nothing between us.”
The picture, stained with dark spots of his overflowing negative thoughts, cleared almost entirely. It wasn’t him that was the issue, that was evident now. His concerns were nothing but lies that something inside him repeated over and over like a chant.
A heavy weight inside his chest dissipated slowly, a sense of calm he never thought he had came back to him.
And yet –and he hates himself for thinking that way– it didn’t seem to be enough.
“Why did you come back, then?”
An involuntary and very awkward laugh came from Hakuji’s mouth. He scratched the back of his neck as he avoided any eye contact that may come for him. “Well, about that…”
There are many words Kyojuro wishes to be told, and of course there are many he likes to say and repeat to the point they became part of himself.
He often craved the affirmation he repeatedly gave others, words like I’m proud of you or you’re doing great could be something he never truly got to understand how they are supposed to feel like, and yet he kept gifting it to others for them to never miss what that is so lost in his life he cannot associate them with anything other than the emptiness he faces on the daily.
There are also words he didn’t know he needed that bad, words he didn’t know he wanted and desired until they are told briefly in a senseless conversation.
In this case, every word, every sentence Hakuji said felt like something new, and so very needed he couldn’t process the overflow of emotions happening inside him right now.
“After a while, I realized being alone fucking sucks. But not because I’m alone, but because you’re not there. I mean, I can be chatting with whoever I want, but it’s not the same as talking with you. And I didn’t get why, you know? But, after some days I figured that out.”
”What did you figure out?”
“That I like you.”
He stared at Hakuji in silence.
“I don’t know how or why , but I… really... like you. A lot. And I can’t stand another day away from you because of that, you know? I feel like I stopped seeing you as a friend or someone I shared a place with a long time ago, and began seeing you as what I want us to be. Whatever it is--whatever you want it to be.”
It would be a lie to say that his words didn’t surprise him at all, or that he wasn’t taken aback by the very sudden confession that just happened in front of him.
More than that, he admits this is not only a surprise, but something he didn’t know was waiting so earnestly until now.
What else could he do, if not making Hakuji understand that his feelings are very much reciprocated?
“I mean--only if you want to, I’m not gonna force you or anything-- god, how do these things work? ”
He placed his hand on Hakuji’s, gently caressing his knuckles until the other finally read the message and released all the tension on his fist and laid his hand open, just shy from interlacing their fingers together.
Once the tension felt like finally fading a little, Hakuji sighed, staring at their hands tenderly, “I want to grow old with you, Kyojuro. I want to live until the last day of our lives, and be with you to see it happen.”
The moment Hakuji’s ramblings ended, they simply sat there in silence. Kyojuro took advantage of this small gap to think his words thoroughly, for what could be the first time in so long.
Then, in the usual act of impulsivity, he simply laughed, a short chuckle that seemed unfitting for the situation, but it was already laid on the table to ignore.
“I thought you hated me.”
Hakuji coughed, caught in the act. “That’s on me, sorry,” he cleared his throat once again. “But, if it works for you, I can assure you that’s not the case.”
Kyojuro saw the opening in the words he just heard, and he smiled.
“I like you too, Hakuji.”
Once he finally put a name to those feelings that seemed to be so complex and incomprehensible, things felt a lot lighter, a lot easier to handle. What seemed so hard to accept at first turned out to be just that simple, just that quick, it had to happen that way.
The shock in Hakuji’s face was evident. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging open in awe at the words he couldn’t believe he was hearing.
Kyojuro didn’t push any further, let it be ask him out or tell him to do so. He didn’t want to. Instead, all he did was stare back and take a picture of every single detail on his face. From his bright eyes, sparkling in enthusiasm, begging for an answer to all the questions overflowing inside him, to his soft lips, awaiting for something indescribable to him.
Hakuji finally reacted. “Ah. Wow, okay. That’s...” he coughed onto his fist, staring at somewhere else. “That’s... good.”
He scooted closer to him. “It is!”
He can’t deny he feels like a teenager, just barely experiencing his first love confession right now. But despite how ridiculous this situation may be, he was genuinely happy to know the first time he felt this kind of emotions they were immediately reciprocated.
Both were fidgeting on their side, for different reasons unknown to each other.
“So…” Hakuji stared directly at him, “what now?”
They both knew there was an untold answer to that question, but none seemed to be able to take the first step.
“I don’t know, what do you want to do now?”
The sky was clear, so clear that you could spot the moon high in the sky even when the sun was still glowing over them. It was far from being nighttime, and the sun was bathing every corner of the place. How fun that was to him. This day is no different from any other, and yet it feels like everything around him is a group of signals that had always been there, but he wasn’t aware of until now.
He does want to live his life with Hakuji. He wants to share the rest of his days with him, he wants to be with him to see that happen, to see how it happens. He wants to learn to live with him, to be more than how useful he is or not to people.
“Maybe stay like this a little longer.” Hakuji replied.
Kyojuro looked at him, he was smiling with tenderness. It was something new, something he knew he was going to grow addicted to.
He smiled back at him. “Sounds good to me.”
He leaned on Hakuji’s shoulder, not shy in snuggling into his neck. He did the same in response, now with his head above his as they both stared at the same garden. The conversation was long over between them, it was time to enjoy their time together now.
There’s no reason for them to hurry. There’s an entire lifetime in front of them.
