Work Text:
Smoke and blood were the scents that Tanjiro woke to, deep and acidic they left an unpleasant tang in the air. His eyes flew open, heart lurching into his throat. How could he have fallen unconscious? Akaza was still alive and- Oh. Giyuu had made a fire and was sitting by it. Akaza must be dead then. Good.
It was only when Tanjiro had processed all of this that he noticed the other thing, Giyuu was holding his sword in the fire. “Ah! Did you chip your sword?”
Giyuu did not turn his eyes away from the flames to answer, “I tried to stop my bleeding, but it didn’t work. I’m going to cauterize the wound.” He paused. “See if you can stop the bleeding from your left arm. If you can’t strip and come over so I can burn it too.”
The prospect of having his skin burnt closed by a heated sword did not really sit well with Tanjiro so he got straight to trying to stop the bleeding. However, there seemed to be little he could do without medical equipment or even any bandages…
Just as Tanjiro was giving up, movement caught his eye. Giyuu was pulling his bandages undone, sword propped up against the floor still resting in the flames. Tanjiro wasn’t sure he really wanted to do this, but he knew it would be better. “Giyuu, I can’t stop my bleeding.” He paused, looking for the right words. Usually Tanjiro just said what came to mind but in this situation he was finding even that difficult. “Won’t it be difficult to hold it against yourself? Let me help you then you can help me?”
Giyuu seemed to consider this for a few moments, fingers pausing in their task and eyes wandering over the blade still licked by flames. Then, he nodded and Tanjiro moved closer.
Holding a sword, a weapon to cause pain, didn’t bother Tanjiro anymore. But when he wrapped his hand around the hilt of Giyuu’s sword and turned it upon its owner his arms felt heavy. Perhaps it was an ache left from the previous battle, perhaps it was his reluctance to hurt Giyuu even if it would help in the long run.
With last-minute thinking Tanjiro grabbed some loose cloth, part of his haori that he ripped off earlier that had been too small to wrap his arm, and held it out. “Do you want something to bite on?”
Giyuu shook his head, but his eyes lingered on the cloth. Then obviously changing his mind the cloth was taken and in his mouth with one swift movement. Then finally cold blue eyes looked up into Tanjiro’s own and he knew he was being asked to continue.
Tanjiro wasn’t the one in pain, but it felt like it. The smell of burning flesh made him grimace and the sound that accompanied it was equally stomach churning. Tanjiro was glad Giyuu had taken the cloth because if the other had cried out in pain he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold the sword in place. Instead, Giyuu simply stared straight onwards, seemingly unbothered.
But Tanjiro could see his jaw clench, the muscles in his arms and legs stiffen, and the sweat bead and fall from his forehead. Then as quickly as it was put there, he took the sword back off. The wound was not nice to look at, but it was no longer bleeding. Giyuu would live.
Tanjiro turned his eyes away from the other, giving a precious moment for Giyuu to calm and collect himself as Tanjiro placed the blade back in the slowly dying flames. By the time he turned back, Giyuu looked once again like his usual unbothered self.
“Thank you.”
Huh? Surely Giyuu wasn’t thanking him for that? That was- well, it can’t have been a pleasant experience and anyone would have done the same, Giyuu was going to do the same for him soon.
As if sensing Tanjiro’s confusion Giyuu continued, “You saved my life in that fight. I owe you.”
“Huh? No you don’t! I’m sure you did the same for me after I was knocked unconscious! Besides, Giyuu has saved my life many times before, perhaps I paid you one back today, but I still owe one hundred.” Tanjiro smiled, after all, he really did mean those words. Sure, he hadn’t been physically saved one hundred times but he would have been dead many times if it weren’t for Giyuu’s actions.
For sparing him and Nezuko in their first meeting. For sending him to Urokodaki. For saving him from Rui. For fighting Shinobu to let him escape. For putting his life on the line once again to vouch for Nezuko and himself. For training him to be stronger. For looking out for him. For visiting when he’s been injured to check he recovered fully. Yes, Tanjiro owes Giyuu a lot.
“I’m sure you know this, but this is just the beginning. Our target is Muzan but we may have to fight upper moon one and two as well.” Giyuu stated this as fact, with little emotion in the words, but Tanjiro couldn’t help but let his shoulders droop.
There was a lot ahead of them, and it wasn’t certain they would all make it out alive. Many had already lost their lives after all and there was still so much to do. “Do not worry.” Giyuu’s voice rang out somehow softer this time and Tanjiro looked up to meet his gaze. “I will be there; you will live to see your sister again even if we have to leave the count at one hundred and one.”
Was Giyuu… was Giyuu saying he would die to protect him? Surely, he understood Tanjiro didn’t want that? He searched the blue eyes watching him and found the answer easily. Of course Giyuu knew that, but just as Tanjiro would strive to protect him he would strive to protect back.
Tanjiro smiled, crinkling his eyes just enough that the watery gloss over them pooled into a single tear. “If you make it one hundred and one, I’ll surely make it back to one hundred.”
Giyuu rarely smiled but as he picked up his sword once again, not to fight but to close Tanjiro’s wound, he gave the boy a small smile. Tanjiro could try all he liked but Giyuu knew he would do all he could to make sure Tanjiro lived to see the sunrise, even at the cost of his own life. Tanjiro had someone waiting for him after all, everyone Giyuu cared for was already dead or in this maze with him.
---------------------
Giyuu should be dead by now, he was sure. He should have run out of energy and collapsed, he was injured worse than he ever had been before, his haori was soaked with blood and his bones were snapped in too many places to count. But when he saw Tanjiro with his sword, struggling to pierce into Muzan he ran even though he shouldn’t be able to stand.
Tanjiro was desperately clinging on, his sword was locked in a vice grip and he knew if he loosened his grip one bit he wouldn’t be able to tighten it again. Everything hurt, the pain from earlier seemed so small in comparison now, yet he held tight. He was still standing and therefore he would continue to fight, even if he was the last one left.
But he wasn’t the last one left, there was warmth behind him and hands over his own. “Giyuu!”
Tanjiro couldn’t look behind him, but he knew who it was. This was further confirmed by the voice, “One hundred and one.”
Tanjiro wanted to laugh as much as he wanted to cry but it was all he could do to hold the sword and stand. Together they pushed. Neither should even be conscious but by sheer will alone they continued, and the sword moved.
But of course, Muzan always had another attack, one last defence. He grew and grew, the sword they had worked so hard to push in was now trapping them there. Well, it would be trapping Tanjiro at least. Voice croaky and frayed Tanjiro uttered two last words, “One hundred.” Then with all his might he threw his head back and forced Giyuu backward.
Then he was gone and there was nothing.
------------------
When the dust cleared Giyuu felt as if everything in the world was happening at once. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurred with blood and dust. His body ached and burnt with pain so strong he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to stay awake long enough to ask his question, but he had to know.
“Where is Tanjiro? Is Tanjiro safe?” His questions fell on deaf ears as the people around him urged him back. But then he saw him, seated on the ground, sword in hand and head bowed.
Giyuu stumbled towards him only to hear the verdict. No pulse. Sobs erupted from those around but for Giyuu the world fell still. Like when underwater, sounds were fuzzy and movement was slow. The cacophony of noise, panic, and adrenaline were all dulled as his eyes stayed locked on the figure in green on the ground.
Then he too was kneeling, kneeling in front of yet another friend he failed. Tanjiro should be looking up at him and smiling, wiping his tears away and laughing. Instead, Giyuu’s tears fell uninterrupted down his cheeks as he reached forwards and grasped the hands that would soon be cold.
“Again… I can’t protect anyone. You said you owed me your life but once again I owe mine, I’m only ever protected by others. I’m sorry, forgive me, Tanjiro.”
------------
When Tanjiro awoke surrounded by injured allies, both by Muzan's and his own hand he despaired. He had hurt the people closest to him. There was too much noise and the smell of blood and rubble overpowered everything to a startling degree, Tanjiro felt lost.
Then suddenly he was embraced. A familiar smell washed over him, sure it was tinged with blood and a cocktail of emotions from sadness, anger, and anguish to such strong joy and relief, but regardless it was Giyuu underneath. Always calm and kind, always looking out for Tanjiro, always there when he felt the lowest.
Tanjiro didn’t feel so lost as he cried into the mismatched haori. After all, Giyuu was here and he always would be, that alone was enough for Tanjiro.