Chapter Text
Giyu is cold, and he's tired. Snow clings to his hair, and settles on his skin. It doesn't melt.
He can't remember why he's on the ground. His chest aches. His eyes drift open and he can see blood in the snow, like scattered flower petals. He knows he needs to get up, but it hurts to breathe and there’s no strength in his legs.
“Shit, Giyu, what the hell-”
That voice. His voice. There’s fear in it. And that hurts too. He doesn’t want to hurt him, but they both knew this was coming. They knew it was going to hurt.
“Is he…?”
“No, idiot, he’s not. He’s going to be fine.”
He feels arms, around his back, under his legs, lifting him as easily as a child, cradling him close. His head rests against a shoulder. He takes a strained breath. The one carrying him smells sweet, a little spicy. He smells like home.
“Go get him some blankets, moron.”
“O-okay-”
The anger is a poor mask. Giyu lifts his hand and sets it against skin, feels the heart racing beneath his palm.
“Sanemi,” he murmurs.
“Shhh, don’t talk. Just hold on.”
Giyu’s eyes opened and the dream evaporated. He couldn’t remember it, not really, but he had a feeling it hadn’t been a good dream. It had been stressful, and cold, and the feeling was lingering. The sun streamed through his window, though, warm on his skin, deceptive given the February chill Giyu knew waited for him outside. It helped to dissipate whatever was leftover from the dream. He blinked sleep from his eyes, then sat up slowly. His chest hurt a little and he put a hand on it, taking a deep experimental breath. It felt okay, just…a little tight, maybe. He hoped he wasn’t getting sick.
“You alright?” a sleepy voice murmured beside him.
Giyu glanced down at his boyfriend, his face mostly buried in his pillow, save for the scarred corner of his cheek and forehead, and one pale violet eye that was watching him, half-lidded. An arm, also crossed with scars, reached across the bed and wound itself around Giyu’s waist.
“Don’t get up yet,” he said.
“Sanemi,” Giyu chided fondly, folding his hands over the arm around him. “I’ve got a job. And you’ve got a job,” he gently reminded him.
Sanemi put his full face in his pillow and he said in a muffled voice, “Let’s quit our jobs.”
Giyu smiled, shaking his head, then curled up next to Sanemi and nuzzled his ear. “Fine,” he said, “Let’s quit our jobs.” Sanemi peeked back out at him, and Giyu continued, “In about two weeks, we can also quit living in an apartment. And quit eating decent food. We'll start dumpster diving and living out of cardboard boxes under a bridge. Sounds like a dream to me.”
Sanemi lifted his head and grinned, growling, “Okay, smartass, you win,” before he attacked Giyu, pressing him to the mattress, legs straddling him, keeping him pinned. He kissed him hard, his tongue pressing against Giyu’s, then he buried his face against Giyu’s neck, pressing his lips to his throat once, twice, before biting him, teeth sharp on his skin.
“Ouch,” Giyu laughed, “That’s rude.” He dug his fingers into Sanemi’s ribs, making him squirm away. Sanemi made a grab for Giyu’s hands, catching them and collapsing on his side next to Giyu, breathing deeply. He kissed each of Giyu's hands, then let go and gave Giyu’s shoulder a gentle shove.
“You’re rude for making us be responsible,” Sanemi teased.
Giyu started to respond, but the words were swallowed by a sudden cough. He sat up and covered his mouth, trying to catch his breath. Sanemi sat up as well and pounded him on the back a few times.
“Shit, do you need some water or something?” he chuckled, grabbing a water bottle off their nightstand and passing it to him. Giyu accepted it gratefully and took a long swallow, the cough finally subsiding. The pain in his chest that he’d woken up with was a little worse. “What the hell was that?” Sanemi asked, swinging his legs out of bed and going over to the closet to pick some clothes.
“Just a cough,” Giyu said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head, “A cold maybe. I don’t know, I feel fine.”
“Well, take it easy if you start feeling worse,” Sanemi said, trying to be nonchalant about it, but his voice betrayed a note of concern. Giyu crossed the room to him and hugged him from behind, pressing a kiss (a much nicer kiss than Sanemi had offered) to the back of Sanemi’s neck.
“I’m fine,” Giyu said. Then he reached past Sanemi and pulled a black T-shirt and pair of blue jeans off of their hangers.
“What time does your shift end today?” Sanemi asked.
“It’s a short one, just until 2:00,” Giyu said.
Sanemi hummed, slipping into a pair of black jeans and grabbing one of his work shirts, pulling it over his head. “You should come hang out at the shop with me. Afternoons are so damn slow.”
“I could do that,” Giyu said as he adjusted his clothes, “I’ll have to study while I’m there, though.”
“Fine by me,” Sanemi said, “As long as I get to watch your sexy ass while you do it.”
Giyu rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush a little, and walked into the bathroom to manage his hair. He opened a drawer and grabbed a brush, then looked up into the mirror and stopped abruptly. His hair was long, tumbling over his shoulders, tangled and messy from sleep. He blinked in surprise, a flash of his reflection, hair sheared short, blinking back, there and then gone. He touched his hair, pulling its length through his hand, then looked down at the brush in his right hand. He hesitated, then switched hands, holding it in his left hand instead. He looked back up at his reflection and started pulling the brush through his hair, section by section, until it was back under control. He set the brush down and used a length of thin rope to tie his hair into a low ponytail.
“Do you think I should cut my hair?” Giyu called out of the bathroom, looking at his reflection.
Sanemi appeared in the door abruptly with a vehement, “ Hell no, you shouldn’t.” Giyu raised an eyebrow at him and he flushed a bit, adjusting his response, “I mean, you could… If you wanted to. I’d love you still, if that’s what you’re asking.” He stepped up to Giyu and took his hair in his hand, fingers tangling in it, pulling with gentle pressure, and said, “But I like your hair the way it is.”
Giyu smiled. “I’m not going to cut it,” he reassured Sanemi, laughing lightly at the evident relief on his face, “I was just curious what you thought about it.”
“Well, now you know,” Sanemi said gruffly, using his hold on Giyu’s hair to pull him enough to drop a kiss on his head, then disappearing back out into their bedroom.
Giyu splashed water on his face, the cold on his skin refreshing, helping clear his head. He walked back into the bedroom. Sanemi had already gone out to the kitchen, and the smell of coffee was starting to waft down the hall. He followed the scent and dropped onto a stool at the counter, reaching for a slice of bread from the loaf that Sanemi had already cut into. He took the tray of butter and a jar of plum jam and spread them on the bread. Sanemi set a mug of coffee in front of him.
“Thanks,” Giyu said around a bite of his bread.
“You’re welcome,” Sanemi said, bringing his own mug of matcha tea over and sitting beside him. He turned to face him, grabbing his stool and dragging it closer, then wrapped his arms around him and set his chin on Giyu’s shoulder. “So. This weekend…” he said.
“Sanemi, we don’t have to do anything big,” Giyu said before Sanemi could jump into whatever over-the-top plan he’d come up with.
“Hell yes we do,” Sanemi said, straightening. “You only turn twenty-five once! A fucking quarter of a century old. It’s a milestone. We’re doing something to celebrate it.”
“Okay, if I agree… What have you come up with,” Giyu sighed good-naturedly.
“...A beach house,” Sanemi said.
“A beach house?” Giyu repeated skeptically, “In February?”
“Well, we won’t go swimming, obviously,” Sanemi said, “But yeah. We can walk on the beach, and we’ll invite people, play games and watch movies and drink too much. It’ll be fun.”
Giyu looked at him suspiciously. “Who have you already invited?” he asked.
“No one!” Sanemi said. When Giyu’s eyes narrowed further, he shrugged, “Okay a few people. Your sister, for one. And Shinobu. Tengen and his girlfriend. Mitsuri, obviously, and she’ll probably bring her boyfriend. Kyojuro…” Giyu tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling as Sanemi listed people he’d talked to in the course of his birthday scheming, each of them friends they'd made through work or school in the last few years.
“I’m inviting Sabito too,” Giyu said, interrupting Sanemi’s list.
Sanemi grimaced, looking pained.
“Honestly, you’d like him if you gave him a chance. He’s a lot like you,” Giyu said.
“I can’t fucking like someone who’s constantly flirting with you,” Sanemi growled, his arms tightening on Giyu’s waist.
“He does not flirt with me,” Giyu said.
“The hell he doesn’t,” Sanemi said, “I’m telling you, he’s not over you.”
“Sanemi, we dated for one year in high school. My first year of high school. Do you know how long ago that was…?” Giyu said, lifting his coffee to his lips.
Sanemi hesitated, then grumbled, “Like…almost ten years…”
“Not almost. It's been ten years. We were fourteen,” Giyu said.
Sanemi, though, was apparently in an argumentative mood and insisted, “That doesn’t mean he’s not pining. I mean, shit, I would pine. You’re worth pining for.”
Giyu set down his mug and turned on his stool so Sanemi’s legs fell to either side of his. He looked at Sanemi seriously. “Fine, then. Let's look at it another way. Do you know that I love you?” he asked Sanemi.
“...Yes,” Sanemi sighed, drawing his hands down Giyu’s legs and settling them on his knees, looking to the side.
“And you trust me?” Giyu asked, lifting his hands to Sanemi’s face, making him look back.
“Yes,” Sanemi said, rolling his eyes.
“Then even if you were right - which you’re not - it doesn’t matter,” Giyu said lightly. Then his expression softened. He leaned in and kissed Sanemi gently, thumbs stroking his cheeks. He rested his forehead against Sanemi’s and said, “You’re my whole world, Sanemi. You have nothing to worry about.”
Sanemi growled affectionately, and finally said, “Fine, invite your fucking ex if you want. It’s your birthday.”
Giyu smiled and kissed Sanemi once more to thank him. Then he turned back to his breakfast, downing the rest of his coffee and finishing his bread. He took his mug to the sink, washing it quickly. He felt the urge to cough again, but managed to hold it back, drinking some water straight from the tap. He didn’t want to worry Sanemi, especially if he was planning a weekend getaway.
“Alright,” Giyu sighed, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair and slipping into it, grabbing his wallet and keys and putting them in his pockets. “I’ve got to go,” he said, shouldering his backpack, heavy with laptop and textbooks. Sanemi hopped off his stool and grabbed Giyu’s hand, pulling him into his arms.
“See you this afternoon,” he said, nipping his ear playfully.
“See you this afternoon,” Giyu said, kissing his cheek, “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Sanemi said, then let Giyu go.
Giyu went to the door and opened it, looking back once, feeling oddly reluctant to leave Sanemi, like he didn't want to waste time with something as trivial as working when…
When what?
Giyu shook his head, stepping out the door and coughing into his arm a few times before he went down the steps to the apartment parking lot and reached his car, a stock blue Civic parked beside Sanemi's white truck.
Giyu worked at a local supermarket twenty minutes from their apartment. It wasn't a glamorous job, but the owner was generous with Giyu's pay and flexible with his time, and since Giyu was also taking night classes at the community college, it was a perfect fit for the time being.
“Good morning, Urokodaki-san,” Giyu said when he came in the back door. His boss was in his office, writing in his leger.
“Good morning, Tomioka,” the old man said without looking up. Giyu went to the wall where there were hooks for coats and black aprons emblazoned with the supermarket logo hung on pegs. He slipped out of his jacket, then put on an apron, clipped his name badge to it, and turned.
Urokodaki was looking up now, watching Giyu, but his face was red and monstrous, furrowed brow, glaring eyes, too long nose - Giyu jumped a foot, and the shock seemed to startle a cough from deep in his chest. He gasped for breath, the cough dragging at his lungs, tearing at his throat painfully. Suddenly Urokodaki was there in front of him, a hand on his shoulder, saying something Giyu couldn't hear over his own coughing. Giyu held up a hand to beg his boss’ patience, eyes watering. He managed to look up, though, because he had to see… to see... Urokodaki's face was…just his face… Whatever he'd seen gone, just a trick of his imagination.
“Tomioka, are you sure you should be here?” Urokodaki asked him, grizzled features drawn with concern, “That's not a cough you ought to be ignoring.”
“I’m fine,” Giyu said hoarsely when he was finally able to catch his breath, “Really. It's just the cold air. I feel totally fine.”
Urokodaki was clearly not convinced, but he straightened, letting his hand fall away from Giyu’s shoulder. “If you insist,” he said, “But I want you on the register. Let Tsukimiya take care of inventory and restocking. Hayashi can greet and manage customers.”
“That really isn’t…” Giyu started to say, but Urokodaki had already turned and gone back into his office. “...necessary,” Giyu finished. He sighed, considering the odd experience he’d just had. He must have slept badly. It was the only thing he could think of. The cough was one thing, but that was twice that morning that he’d thought he’d seen something that obviously wasn’t there. He wasn’t concerned about it, not yet anyway, but he’d never had anything like this happen before and it was definitely throwing him off a bit.
There was no point dwelling on it, he decided. He pushed through the doors that led from the back to the front of the market. They didn’t open for another fifteen minutes and it was quiet. Makomo Hayashi was already at her usual spot at the register.
“Hey, Makomo,” Giyu greeted her. She was young, barely out of high school, and her short hair and petite features made her seem even younger.
“Morning, Giyu!” she said brightly.
“Um, Urokodaki is putting me on the register today. I’m sorry, I didn’t ask him for it,” Giyu said apologetically.
She looked surprised, but then smiled, “Oh, that’s fine! So I’m…?”
“Greeting and helping customers…” Giyu said hesitantly.
Makomo clapped her hands together once. “I love the customers, so that’s alright by me!”
Giyu smiled at her, relieved that she didn't mind the switch. He looked around and asked, “Is Sabito here yet?”
“Of course he isn’t,” Makomo laughed, “He’ll probably stroll in here ten minutes late as usual.”
Giyu smiled. That would be in character for his friend. Makomo moved out from behind the counter, and Giyu took her place, sitting on the stool. He double checked the register, the computer, and the scanner. It was all ready to go.
“You should just go ahead and unlock the doors,” Giyu said.
“Alrighty,” Makomo said, going to the motion sensor doors, unlocking them and flipping the switch to send power to them. They opened, letting in a wave of cold air, then closed. Giyu’s skin prickled with goosebumps as the cold air hit his arms.
The door to the back opened and Sabito shoved through.
“Goooood morning!” he crowed to them. He was in the process of pulling his peach-colored hair into a knot at his nape.
“Good morning, Sabi!” Makomo called from across the market.
“You beat the clock by… a whole ninety seconds today,” Giyu said as Sabito came over to the counter. “I think it's a record.”
“What? Come on. Punctuality is my middle name,” Sabito smirked. Giyu eyed his friend. Under his apron he was wearing a shirt that was…well, loud, was the only way to describe it. A busy geometric pattern of green, yellow and orange.
“What are you wearing?” Giyu laughed, grabbing the edge of his sleeve and tugging on it.
“You don’t like it?” Sabito said, lifting his apron to show the button-down shirt more fully, “I got it at the thrift shop yesterday. Thought it felt like me.”
Giyu was about to tell him that the pattern wasn’t a good fit for anyone, but then… it did seem like it was fitting for Sabito, he guessed. Something about it almost felt familiar, like he’d seen him wearing it before.
“You’re right, it is a good fit for you,” Giyu said, then continued, “Hey, before I forget, Sanemi is planning a thing this weekend-”
“For the big 2-5? He better be, or he deserves an ass-whooping,” Sabito joked.
“Sanemi would be thrilled if you tried,” Giyu laughed, “And it would be very entertaining to watch.”
“I almost feel like that’s a challenge. But okay, continue,” Sabito said, soft violet eyes dancing with amusement.
“Anyways, it’s not a big deal, he’s just renting a beach house. We’re going to hang out, play games. There’ll be food and beer. It will be pretty relaxed. You should come, though.”
Sabito put a hand on Giyu’s shoulder and said, “I wouldn’t miss my best friend’s twenty-fifth for anything.” Giyu met his gaze and a sense of vertigo hit him, a feeling of double vision as he looked at his friend, the sincerity on his face, the steady smile, and he felt like he was going to cry. And then the moment was gone, so fast Giyu couldn't even decide if it had been there in the first place. Sabito walked away, going to say hello to Makomo and get to work doing inventory.
The doors opened, a pair of customers walking in, and the cold air hit Giyu again, frigid against his skin, cold in his lungs. His chest ached again slightly, and he put his hand against it. He breathed deep as he could, his breath catching at the top of his inhale, and he had to try to control another cough that threatened to catch him. He grabbed a water bottle from under the counter and downed half of it in one go. When he set it aside, he sighed and wondered if he should make an appointment with the doctor just to check that everything was fine. He didn’t want to ruin the weekend Sanemi was planning for him because he picked up a little cold.
Giyu's shift, despite being short, felt like it dragged. He felt a strong pull to see Sanemi again. He always missed him when they were apart, but today he felt like he needed to be with him, like every minute mattered.
At the end of his shift he grabbed a few sandwiches from the deli, checked himself out at a self-checkout register, and then went to the back. As he was putting his apron back on the hook, Sabito came up to him and slung an arm over his shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re already done. It’s so much less fun to work when you’re not here.”
“You’ve got Makomo, and that new kid should be in soon. The one with the weird hair,” Giyu said.
“Ohhh what’s his name, Zzzzzeee I've got nothing. But yeah. He’s…fun…” Sabito grinned broadly.
“He’ll keep you busy. You won’t even miss me,” Giyu chuckled.
“Of course I miss you,” Sabito said, letting his arm fall away from Giyu’s shoulders and leaning against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets.
Giyu looked at him oddly, raising an eyebrow, and said, “I haven’t even left yet.”
Sabito looked at him and laughed, “Wait, what?”
Giyu blinked. “You said…”
“I said I’m going to have to keep the kid’s hands off Makomo,” Sabito said, “You know, his first day with her last week, he was following her around like a damn puppy.”
“That’s… Yeah, that’ll be a good time,” Giyu said, not sure how he’d possibly misheard that. He put his jacket on.
“Anyways, you working a shift tomorrow?” Sabito asked.
“Afternoon-evening, yeah,” Giyu said, “And then I think we’re heading to the beach house Friday morning since I don’t have any hours and Sanemi took the whole weekend off.”
“Alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow then. I’m working all day,” Sabito clapped Giyu on the shoulder, and headed back to the door out to the front. “Say hey to Grumpy for me,” he called over his shoulder.
“Will do,” Giyu said. He glanced over at Urokodaki sitting in his office, “Have a good rest of your day, Urokodaki-san,” Giyu called over to him. His boss looked up, giving him a wave.
“Mind that cough, Tomioka,” he said.
Giyu nodded, then walked out the back door, the cold wind wrapping around him, a cold cocoon, icy fingers tugging at his hair. He hurried to his car, getting in and starting it, turning the air on and rubbing his hands together while he waited for it to warm up. It seemed to take forever, tremors rolling through his entire body, his teeth clicking together.
It took over half the drive to the pet-shop that Sanemi worked at for the air to warm him enough for his teeth to stop chattering and the goosebumps to recede from his skin, and then the walk from the parking lot into the shop brought them back with a vengeance. Fortunately, the inside of the shop was kept extremely warm and humid to accommodate the various reptiles housed in glass cases along the back wall. The smell of the shop was strong, dog and bird and rodent and reptile all mingling into a musk that hung thick in the air.
“Hey!” Sanemi called as soon as he saw Giyu. He had his hands in a large hamster cage, building a new maze of plastic tunnels. He paused, leaving jumbled pieces scattered in the wood shavings, and closed the wire door. He came over to Giyu, folding him in a tight hug.
“I brought you something to eat in case you were hungry,” Giyu said, holding up a sandwich.
“God, I don’t deserve you,” Sanemi teased, accepting the sandwich and kissing Giyu. He tipped his head towards a space behind the counter that was cleared. “I made a spot for you to study,” he said.
“Thank you,” Giyu said, squeezing his hand, then walking around the counter and sitting at the stool and setting his bag in front of him.
Sanemi went across the shop to the sink, washing his hands thoroughly so he could eat the sandwich Giyu had brought. He came around and sat on the counter next to Giyu's bag, unwrapping the sandwich.
“Sabito says hello,” Giyu said as he laid out his textbook and his notes.
“Oh good,” Sanemi grumbled, “Did you invite him?”
“He said he wouldn't miss it,” Giyu said, smiling as Sanemi rolled his eyes hard enough he thought they might just roll right out of his head and keep on rolling across the floor.
Giyu opened his textbook, flipping to the chapter they were studying in his history class, a section covering the years 1912 - 1926, the Taisho Era. He hesitated before he really dove into his studies, looking up at Sanemi.
“Hey,” Giyu said to him, laying a hand on his knee, and when Sanemi looked at him he said sincerely, “Thank you for planning something for me for this weekend.”
Sanemi smiled at Giyu, his gaze softening, then seemed to get a little embarrassed. “Shit, it's not a big deal,” he said, putting his focus firmly back on eating his sandwich, “I'd be a fucking shitty boyfriend if I didn't plan something.”
Giyu grinned. Sanemi was the furthest thing from a shitty boyfriend it was possible to be, but Giyu wouldn't aggravate his embarrassment by pointing that out. Giyu made himself return to his textbook.
He looked down at the words, tapping his highlighter between marking sections that would probably come up on their midterms. He turned the page and paused, looking at an image of a swordsman, depicted as though mid-form in a kata. He looked at the section header.
Traditional Warriors Entering The Modern Era
His eyes scanned through the page until one paragraph caught his attention.
Though the carrying of swords was prohibited for civilians after 1876 with the issuance of the "Haitōrei" (Sword Abolishment Edict) by the Meiji government, some groups continued to wear katana in defiance of the government. The largest of these was a 300 year old cult known as the Kisatsutai. This group, headed by members of the Ubuyashiki Family, trained swordsmen from young ages and sent them across Japan in pursuit of vigilante justice. However, the Taisho Era would be the last to see members of this cult roaming from city to city. Dwindling recruitment and infighting saw the end of the Kisatsutai organization sometime between 1915 and 1920.
Giyu frowned at the passage. He felt like it wasn't accurate. He wasn't sure if he'd read about them somewhere else, or maybe a documentary had been on the TV at home at some point. He wracked his brain but he just couldn't remember. He knew, though, that it hadn't been infighting that had disbanded the Kisatsutai. And it hadn’t been a cult at all. And they'd used swords because a Nichirin sword was the only way to kill a demon.
Which. Didn't make sense. Because demons weren't real.
Giyu blinked and sat back.
“What?” Sanemi asked, “Learning something good?”
“Um,” Giyu shifted, feeling oddly disjointed, and said slowly, “Yeah, just… Traditional swordsmen. It's interesting.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sanemi said, finishing his sandwich and wiping his hands on a towel. “I actually thought maybe we should try out kenjutsu sometime.”
Giyu looked up at him, the disjointed feeling fading as he seemed to settle back into his own head. “Really?” he asked.
“Sure, why not. Swinging a sword around? Sounds fucking awesome.”
Giyu could imagine Sanemi as a swordsman. He was strong, agile and athletic. He would be good at it. Probably even great at it. Giyu could picture him spinning across a training yard, his blade deadly, flashing green as it sliced through bamboo targets. He could imagine him wearing traditional clothes like the swordsman depicted in the textbook, too. But less formal. Giyu imagined he'd wear his uniform in defiance of tradition and modesty, daring demons to attack him with chest exposed and… Giyu flushed at the vivid images in his mind. He wasn't generally prone to fantasies. He dismissed the mental imagery and looked back down at his notes.
“Yeah, that could be fun,” Giyu said, realizing he hadn't responded in his distraction. Abruptly, he felt the urge to cough. He covered it, taking a drink of water, but it wasn't going to be managed as easily as it had been back at the supermarket. He didn't want Sanemi to worry, so he cleared his throat and excused himself to use the employee restroom. The second he got in and shut the door he turned the water and the fan on and let himself cough, covering his mouth with his hand to try to muffle the sound more. His chest ached, sharp pain shooting across his back with each gasping inhalation. His throat burned. He gripped the sink in one hand, hacking, the cough heavy and wet in his lungs, until finally it eased.
Giyu pulled his hand away from his mouth, and his stomach twisted anxiously to see red on his palm. He looked up at himself in the mirror. Sweat had broken out on his face, and he was pale. Well, paler. His blue eyes looked haunted. He let go of the sink, his hand shaking slightly, and touched his forehead.
Something was wrong.
The thought settled on him. Not suddenly. Not shocking. Just…a fact. And he knew he needed to go to a doctor. He sighed, washing the blood off his hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket, looking up the nearest urgent care. There was one ten kilometers away.
He hesitated before he walked out of the bathroom, wondering if he could get away with waiting until after the weekend to go see someone. No, he decided. He could ignore the cough, but the blood…
He stepped back out into the pet shop. Sanemi was still sitting on the counter, looking through something on his phone. Sanemi brightened as he saw Giyu and grabbed him by the waist when he came within reach.
“Hey, um, I think I need to-” Giyu started to say, but didn't get further than that.
“Check this out,” Sanemi said, setting Giyu in front of him with his back to Sanemi, standing between his legs. Sanemi set his chin on Giyu's shoulder and, arms around him, held up his phone so he could show him what he was looking at. “This is where we are going this weekend,” he explained, tapping through the pictures of the beachside Airbnb he'd found, “And since it's last minute, it's a damn good deal.”
Giyu looked at the pictures. It was a nice place, with plenty of space for everyone Sanemi thought should come. It had a movie room with big lounge chairs and a snack bar, soda fridge, and popcorn machine. There was a game room, pool table, foosball, table tennis, a few arcade machines, and a closet full of board games. It even had a hot tub.
“And it's literally right on the beach. You walk out the door and, boom, ocean,” Sanemi said.
“It looks great,” Giyu said, putting his hands on Sanemi's knees.
“It's gonna be great,” Sanemi said, then kissed his neck, putting his phone on the counter and wrapping his arms tighter around Giyu. Giyu's skin warmed, affection and attraction making him lean further into Sanemi, tipping his head to the side to give Sanemi a better angle to kiss him. They might’ve stayed like that for a while, but somewhere over the shelves the door to the shop opened with the ding of an electric bell.
Sanemi made an annoyed sound, and growled, “We’ll pick that back up later,” in Giyu's ear. Giyu flushed a little and stepped out of Sanemi's arms, sitting back down at his textbook as Sanemi went out to find his customer and see if they needed help with anything.
Giyu checked the time. He was still going to go to the doctor, but decided he'd go tomorrow before work instead. He didn't need to tell Sanemi he was going. His boyfriend was going to a lot of trouble to make this weekend special, and Giyu didn't want to worry him or have him stressed for no reason. When Giyu had an idea of what was going on, he could decide if he needed to change their weekend plans.
Truthfully, he was beginning to second-guess the need to go to the doctor at all. He would, on principle, but he felt totally fine now. Once the cough had fully subsided, the other accompanying symptoms had gone too. The pain in his chest had faded quickly, returning to that same mild ache he’d woken up with. The sharp pains across his back had virtually disappeared. The blood was…well, maybe just a fluke. Any other signs of illness were non-existent. He wasn't feverish. Didn't have a headache. No muscle aches. His throat hurt a little from the force of coughing, but even that was going away. He felt so entirely normal, it was almost like he'd imagined the whole thing.
He dismissed his worries about it, returning his focus to his studies. He had to finish reading the chapters on the Taisho Era before his history class that night. Fortunately he had finished the assignments and readings for his other classes, so this was the last thing he needed to get done. His first class was at 6:00pm so he had another hour before he needed to head to the college.
Giyu glanced up as Sanemi brought the customer over to look at a cage full of fluttering parakeets.
“It’s actually not legal to own a crow as a pet,” Sanemi was explaining, “But parakeets are smart, they imitate sounds, they’re more affordable than a parrot, and lower maintenance. They’re a great pet to have if you want a bird.” The customer nodded in understanding. He was young, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. He had long hair, very long, straight and black as night except for the ends, which he’d dyed a pretty shade of teal. Giyu thought he looked a little familiar, but couldn’t place where he might’ve seen him.
“I see,” the teen said, looking up at the cage of birds, “Could I hold one?”
“Of course,” Sanemi said, opening the cage and setting his finger against the belly of a blue parakeet whose color was almost a match for the teen’s dyed hair. The little bird immediately stepped onto Sanemi’s finger and he brought it out, showing the teen how to hold his hand, and then letting the bird move from his finger over to the teen’s.
Giyu watched as the teen smiled fondly at the bird, and said, “I think he’s perfect. I’d like to buy him.”
“Great. Can I ask how old you are?” Sanemi said.
The teen smiled at the bird and said, “Sixteen.”
Sanemi looked a little relieved that he didn’t have to tell the kid he was too young, since their shop didn’t sell to kids under sixteen. He continued, “And do you have a cage already…?”
“No,” the teen said, looking up at him, “I don’t have anything really.”
Sanemi nodded and looked around the shop, rubbing his hands together. “Okay, let’s get you set up with everything you need. Why don’t you take him and go wait by the counter.”
“Alright,” the teen said, walking over and standing a couple feet down from where Giyu sat studying on the other side.
Giyu kept his eyes on his notes, ignoring the familiar feeling he got when he looked at the kid.
“You don’t need to be scared,” the kid said.
Giyu looked up at him. “Sorry?” he asked.
The teen smiled at him. His eyes were the same color as the bird, the same color as his hair. They were bright, happy and peaceful. “I didn’t say anything,” he said.
“Sorry,” Giyu said, “I thought… Nevermind.” He underlined a few sections of his textbook, then looked back up and said, “Um, what’s your name?”
“Muichiro,” the teen introduced himself.
“Nice to meet you,” Giyu said. The name, like its owner, rang of familiarity, but fell short of actual recognition.
Sanemi came up to the counter, his arms full with a small bird cage, bird seed, and a few other accessories. He helped Muichiro get the cage set up, and set the bird inside on a perch. Then he rang everything up, accepted his payment, and as quickly as he’d come, he was out the door and gone.
“What are kids doing with their hair these days,” Sanemi said when he was gone. He stood at the computer, double checking to make sure the shop’s inventory had updated to reflect the purchases. “I bet he’s never cut it in his life for it to be that long.”
“It suited him,” Giyu said.
“Can you believe he was in here asking if we sold crows?” Sanemi chuckled.
“Definitely unusual. It’s too bad you can’t have them as pets, though. Crows are extremely intelligent,” Giyu said. He tapped his textbook, “Apparently this group of swordsmen used to use them to send messages. They could even be taught enough language that they didn’t need to be sent with a physical letter.”
“It would make for an interesting animal to have around,” Sanemi agreed.
They fell into comfortable silence. Giyu plugged along with his studying while Sanemi finished building the hamster maze and checked all the animal’s cages and tanks, cleaning the ones that needed it, making sure their food and water were fine. When he’d finished all that, he pulled a sleepy puppy out of the pile of its siblings and came back to the counter, cradling it in his arms and stroking its ears.
“We should get a dog,” Sanemi said.
“Sure, when we buy a place with a yard,” Giyu said.
“Well that might be never,” Sanemi complained, “Look at her…”
Giyu looked over at Sanemi and the puppy resting happily on his lap. Sanemi was looking down at the dog fondly, and it made Giyu smile. “Maybe for your birthday, we can get a dog,” he allowed.
Sanemi grinned, looking up. “Oh, you’re in deep shit if you didn’t mean that,” he warned, “As soon as November rolls around, we’re going dog shopping.”
“I meant it,” Giyu chuckled. And he did. But Sanemi would probably have moved on from dogs by then anyway. He’d want a cat, or a snake, or maybe something weird like…
Rhinoceros beetles, his brain supplied. Random, but sure. Something like rhinoceros beetles.
When five o’clock rolled around, Giyu had to go. The pet shop was open until seven, so Sanemi had a couple more hours on his shift. Giyu’s classes ended at ten, and it was an hour back to their apartment from there, so he was usually home between eleven and midnight.
“Don’t feel like you have to wait up for me,” Giyu reminded Sanemi as he packed his bag.
“Oh, hell no, I’m not letting you off that easy…” Sanemi said, hooking one of Giyu’s belt loops with his finger. He looked at Giyu, desire burning like embers in his eyes.
Giyu looked at him, then smirked, deciding a little flirtation couldn’t hurt. He stepped close to Sanemi, pausing with his lips hovering, barely a hair’s breadth between them. He put one hand on Sanemi’s waist, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt, and set the other on his shoulder and then drew it down his chest, slowly running over his stomach, paused, catching on his waistband, then moved lower. The embers in Sanemi’s gaze burned brighter, a growl in his throat, and the finger in Giyu’s belt loop tugged him the last few inches so there wasn’t any space between them at all, his breath hot on Giyu’s lips.
Giyu murmured, “I was planning on waking you up when I got back, Sanemi, so if you want to sleep before I get there…You can.” Then, resisting the urge to kiss him, he took Sanemi’s hand, unhooked his finger, and stepped away, leaving him a little red in the face.
“I love you,” Giyu said as he walked around the counter and headed for the exit.
Sanemi leaned his arms on the counter, one hand raking through his hair, and said, “I love you too, asshole.”
Giyu laughed, then stepped out into the cold.
He put some music on for the drive, going so far as to sing along to his favorite songs. He didn’t cough, and his chest felt fine, and he was looking forward to getting back home. For the moment, things were good. More than good. Giyu thought that his life was… Well, perfection was a myth. But if it wasn’t perfect, he couldn’t think of a single thing he would change.
He didn’t cough at all through his classes, either, which he thought was a really good sign. Maybe it had all been nothing after all. First was history, which was his favorite class. Then college algebra (which, if not for Sanemi helping him, he would’ve failed a dozen times already), followed by biology. He was still working through his general education, and hadn’t fully decided what major he wanted. He’d have to decide soon. He only had a handful of general credits left to complete.
At the end of classes, he walked down the hall towards the elevator to the ground level. He looked out the window and realized that it was snowing. Not a lot, just a light dusting on the ground and a windswept flurry of flakes in the air. Giyu smiled, shaking his head. Why on earth had Sanemi decided that February was a great time to rent a beach house?
Giyu approached the doors, and when he opened them, the cold enfolded him, striking deep into his lungs and chilling him all the way to his bones. A memory of a dream flashed behind his eyes: cold, snow, forest, a boy with red hair, a girl with claws and fangs and-
Giyu doubled over, gasping for breath, his chest feeling like he’d been stomped on. He looked up through watering eyes. His car was only a dozen yards away. He just needed to get there, he could start it, and let the coughing fit pass inside where it was warm. He started towards it, coughing like there was something stuck in his lungs that needed to come out. He couldn’t breathe. He was coughing too much, unable to take air in for how hard his body was pushing it out. He was only a handful of steps away when his eyes went dark, and he collapsed to the snow-dusted parking lot.
…
“Wait, he might be…”
He shifts, eyes moving beneath closed lids. He’s cold, so cold. He feels like his skin is made of ice.
“Giyu, come on, wake the hell up-”
Hands on his shoulders, pulling him up, arms wrapping around him.
“You need to be careful, Shinazugawa, that won’t help him.”
But the person holding him doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away.
“You don’t get to go before me, do you hear me?” The words are fervent, murmured against his ear, “That isn’t how this fucking works.”
He wants to wake up, wants to see the person the voice belongs to. He’s trying. But he’s just…so tired…
His awareness gradually fades back into the dark.
He’s just so tired.