Chapter Text
Lower Moon 4 is infuriating. It’s slippery, evading all of Giyuu’s attacks with ease. Even worse, the demon is just fucking annoying. One moment, he’s laughing gleefully at “how exciting the chase is,” but the next, he’s yelling at Giyuu with such cruelty that it has Giyuu’s head spinning. The demon will compliment all of Giyuu, from his swordsmanship, to his ‘beauty,’ to his body, and his movements. In the blink of an eye, the demon will have riled himself into a rage, cursing Giyuu, praying for his death, and hurling insult after insult at him. Suddenly, he’s ugly, and sloppy, and a failure, and… fat? Objectively not true, Giyuu knows.
To be honest, the switch between such strong feelings doesn’t do much for Giyuu besides irk him. He knows not to believe anything demons say, so the compliments and insults don’t faze him. In his day-to-day life, he hardly ever gets complimented, so to hear such things from a demon just made him confused. He believes the demon is simply lying to get under his skin and distract him.
The insults are nothing new, either. Whatever the demon may think to say has already been said to Giyuu at some point in his life. He briefly thinks to himself, How pathetic that you’ve held on to such words, before regaining his focus.
When he finally corners the demon, it lets out a hiss, spraying a mixture of blood and saliva onto Giyuu. It burns into his skin like an acid, but Giyuu doesn’t let it faze him. The demon spits on him one more time, and Giyuu feels it land on his cheek before he kills it.
As the demon fades, he brings the back of his hand to his face to wipe it away, but it stings, and he can’t stop the hiss of pain that leaves him. His hand comes back covered in blood, his own this time. He was due for a visit to the Butterfly Mansion soon, anyway. Kocho has been nagging him to get a general check-up for months now.
It had started at Hashira meetings with polite reminders, then, as her patience thinned, evolved into more direct orders. Eventually, it progressed to her sending him messages via crow. At this point, Giyuu just wants to get her off his back.
The walk to the Butterfly Mansion is peaceful. With the biannual Hashira meeting coming up soon, the volume of missions he’s set to take on has lessened significantly. He rarely finds time to enjoy himself like this, just walking in nature, and he usually doesn’t see the point, but today is different.
The sun is warm on his skin, and it feels much more pleasant than usual. Actually, he feels warm to his core, which is rare. Kocho says it has something to do with prolonged exposure to the cold, so he has a lower core temperature. In essence, he gets cold more easily than others.
Regardless of that, the sun would feel good on anyone’s face, especially on a day like this. Giyuu can’t help but notice how beautiful it is. The clouds are nice and fluffy, the sky is blue, and the forest around him is lush and green. He just can’t help but admire it all.
He can feel some kind of emotion welling up in his chest that he can’t describe. It feels vaguely familiar, and he’s reminded of his childhood. He reminisces about the days he spent playing outside as Tsutako cooked his meals, filled with whimsy and wonder.
But when the Butterfly Mansion finally comes into view, dread fills him. As he slowly approaches, his heart starts to beat faster. It feels irregular. He tries to breathe to calm himself, but it doesn’t work. His hands feel clammy, and he can suddenly feel his clothes clinging to his body. The realisation hits him: he’s scared.
Sure, he’s been scared before — he knows the feeling quite intimately — but he also knows, logically, that he has no reason to be so fearful of the Corps’ designated hospital, of all things. Even fighting demons doesn’t make him feel like this. He’s rather good at detaching his emotions from the situations he finds himself in. He’s been here quite a few times already, and he’s never felt scared of the estate. His confusion only worsens his anxiety.
Thinking about it, Giyuu knows he doesn’t like hospitals. He associates them with death; he knows his parents died of illness, stuck in a hospital during their last days. The last time he had been scared of a hospital had been-
He shoves the thought away. He can’t afford to think about that period of his life right now, so he pushes the memories down again.
Before he knows it, he’s at the entrance gate of the Butterfly Mansion. He’s unable to take a step in before he’s bombarded by Kocho’s little caterpillar girls. “Good afternoon, Water Hashira-sama!” They chorus.
Once they’ve noticed the wounds on his face, they swarm him. They don’t let him get a word in as they drag him into the mansion, parking him in a large empty room, and leave him to find medical supplies.
Giyuu can’t help but fidget. He doesn’t like the mattress of the bed. It’s a spring mattress, so there are springs jabbing into his thighs uncomfortably, and no matter how much he shifts around, they’re still there. He’s always preferred futons for this exact reason. His clothes are clinging to his body uncomfortably, too. He itches to remove them, but that’s inappropriate.
He really, really wants to go home.
Curiously, he feels frustration building in his chest. It’s getting more difficult to breathe, and he’s torn between trying to maintain Total Concentration, Constant, while also resisting the urge to tear off his clothes and his skin.
Even more upsettingly, the caterpillar girls never return. Instead, Kocho walks into the room. Even worse, she can tell immediately that something is wrong.
Silently, she sets down the supplies she is carrying, prepping to treat and bandage his face. “Tomioka-san, are you feeling ill?”
He can’t muster words, so he shakes his head. Despite his denial, she still checks his forehead with the back of her hand. True to his word, he’s not sick.
Softer, she says, “Please, Tomioka-san, I’m concerned about you. You don’t usually make faces like that.”
Like what? He wants to bark at her, but he stays silent.
He doesn’t have to ask because she clarifies for him. “You look immensely uncomfortable, Tomioka-san. I have never seen you make such a face before. You looked pained, but you’re a Hashira, so I can’t imagine it’s because of a few measly wounds.” Her tone is different to the one Giyuu is accustomed to. It’s one he has been seldom privy to, but he knows she reserves this way of speaking for when she cares.
Her words aren’t teasing, and she has completely foregone the faux-sweetness. It’s the kind demeanour of her sister that she has taken on and tries to convince people she has. It’s all gone. Giyuu knows that right now, she genuinely cares.
It warms his heart greatly. He feels some of his fears and discomfort ease at her tone alone.
She glances at him and does a double-take. Now, she looks very concerned. “Tomioka-san? You’re smiling. Why? I think we need to keep you here just in case. I’m very concerned.”
Giyuu will try to talk her out of it with a smile on his lips, but she’s insistent. So, he stays the night at the Butterfly Mansion.
–
As it turns out, he is sick. It’s not in the way he expects, but the thought makes him queasy nonetheless. It’s a Blood Demon Art, he’s told. Upon inspecting his wounds, Kocho finds that they’re infected.
“It’ll leave a scar,” she had told him, but they both knew they couldn’t care less about such trivial things.
It’s his blood too, though.
“I have reason to believe that the toxins I’m seeing in your blood are a result of the Blood Demon Art.” She sighs, “I’m sorry, Tomioka-san, but I cannot offer you a cure for this. For one, I don’t have one ready. We haven’t encountered many demons with this kind of power, so I’m not sure where I can even begin.
“On top of that,” she continues, “there were so few toxins that the effect hopefully won’t last too long. Now, I could be wrong about that, but if we’re lucky, it’ll wear out in a few days or so.” Giyuu stays silent, listening to her attentively.
Kocho is so young. She’s only 18, he reminds himself, but she’s so capable and responsible. More than anything he could ever hope to be, he knows that much. She’s brilliant and smart, but she’s tragic. After her older sister died, she changed. They hadn’t talked much before she became a Hashira, but her personality had changed drastically in the two years between when she became a Hashira and the last time he had seen her with Kocho Kanae.
He must be making a face again, because she’s looking at him with a grimace. He tries to school his expression, but it’s hard to tell what his face is actually doing.
“You’re really freaking me out, Tomioka-san,” she says. Funnily enough, it feels like her true personality is shining through a little as she drops the polite speech she had been using before.
“Is it really? My apologies, I’ll try to control it, but I’m not too sure how.”
She sighs again. “It’s fine, I think. I’m just not used to you showing emotions. You’re always so stoic and quiet, it’s hard to tell what you’re thinking. This is why everyone ha—” She stops herself. “This is why everyone has difficulty talking with you. They don’t know how you really feel.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” she hums. “It doesn’t help that you’re naturally quite awkward,” Giyuu flushes, embarrassed, and she cringes at the sight of his face. “Even seeing you smiling when you ate salmon daikon was distressing.”
Giyuu remembers. “Yeah, you told me to turn away from you when I ate!” Thinking back on the face she had made at the restaurant makes him giggle. “I had never seen you make that kind of expression. It’s kinda funny.”
Kocho grimaces again. “I think I miss your old personality. I’m not sure how I should handle all of… this,” she gestures to him with a circular motion of his hand. “But I think I know some people who’ll be really happy about this.”
“Who?”
“Don’t tell me you really don’t know,” Kocho flashes him a disappointed look. All he can do is shrug. Kocho doesn’t elaborate further, though, leaving him to wonder about who she’s referring to. But she looks amused as she regards him.
From where she sits, on the bed across from his, he can clearly see the glint of mischief in her eyes that he has slowly but steadily become accustomed to over the years. Her legs are crossed, and she has an elbow resting on her knee, propping up her chin using her fist. Though her sly smile doesn’t reach her eyes — none of her smiles do — she squints at him. Giyuu can just tell she has many ideas flashing through her head on how to extract the maximum entertainment from this Blood Demon Art.
She stands suddenly, smoothing out her pants. “Come; let’s go get dinner. Your kids are here.”
His kids? Last he checked, Giyuu has not had any children. Knowing her, she’s probably referring to Tanjiro and his friends. “They aren’t my kids,” he mumbles, but follows her to the dining room.
Sure enough, Tanjiro is sitting between his two friends, enduring their yelling. He brightens when he sees Giyuu and waves him over. “Giyuu-san! How are you?”
“Well,” Giyuu offers as one of the butterfly girls places a tray of food in front of him. He doesn’t wait to start digging in. He’s mid-bite when Kocho plops herself down next to him. He freezes and stares at her with wide eyes.
Kocho smiles at him with faux-innocence. “What? Can I not eat with my fellow Hashira?”
“Oh! You can eat with us, Shinobu-san! We would be happy to spend time with you!” Tanjiro invites her brightly. Giyuu would not have been so eager.
Apparently, his face makes it evident as Kocho smacks him and scolds, “You need to be more conscious of the faces you make, Tomioka-san. You look so unhappy to have me here.”
Giyuu deflates. “Sorry,” he grumbles out through a mouthful of food.
Kocho’s presence isn’t all that bothersome as Giyuu shovels food into his mouth. Somewhere along the way, he’s dragged into an eating contest with Tanjiro and Inosuke. It’s close, but Giyuu wins. Tanjiro tapped out ages ago, but now Inosuke looks sick.
“You shouldn’t have forced yourself,” Zenitsu fusses over him, handing him tissues and whipping his mouth for him when he makes no move to take them.
“Goodness, Tomioka-san, I didn’t know you could eat so much.” She looks at him with an expression halfway between awe and disgust. Mostly disgust, though. “You could rival the appetite of Uzui-san. Maybe even Rengoku-san.”
Giyuu doubts that. Rengoku is famed for his bottomless appetite. Giyuu actually had the opportunity to eat with him, and he almost ate the restaurant out of business. It was both horrifying and fascinating to watch someone eat so much.
“The food was really good,” he says to Kocho. “I really liked it.”
“Goodness, you’re so much more talkative today,” she coos at him in return.
Is she treating me like one of her butterfly girls? The thought sends a shock of horror down his spine. He shivers and leans as far away from her as he can. She just smiles at him. How creepy…
Aoi comes back to place a plate of mochi in front of them. Giyuu takes one, drizzles a generous helping of sweet sauce all over it and puts the whole thing in his mouth. It’s delicious. Giyuu can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he savours the sweet taste of the mochi.
Kocho reaches out a finger to poke his cheek, but she doesn’t let up. She pokes with enough force to turn his head completely away from her. “You smile when you enjoy food, did you know that? I find it very disturbing.”
He turns back to her with a pout. He’s always been told he needs to show his emotions more, that he needs to react, but when he does, she finds it unsettling?
She sighs, “I’m just not used to it. I probably never will be,” she mutters under her breath, but Giyuu still catches it.
“Aw, but I really like your smile, Giyuu-san!” Tanjiro assures him.
“Thank you, Tanjiro.” And he means it.
They finish up with some idle conversation, and Giyuu finds himself speaking more. Something in his chest tugs at him to join in and say something for once. As he keeps talking, he can see Tanjiro’s friends open up to him more, too. Kocho watches with a serene smile, and she keeps her teasing and prodding to a minimum.
“Hey, Tanjiro-kun,” she says as they leave the dining room, “would you like to share a room with Tomioka-san tonight?”
“How come he’s staying overnight? Is everything alright, Giyuu-san?” He looks at Giyuu with too much emotion in his eyes; Giyuu doesn’t know how to handle it, so he turns away from Tanjiro. You shouldn’t care about someone — me — so much. We die young. But he doesn’t say it, for once, because he knows that it would upset Tanjiro, no matter how true the statement may be.
Kocho takes mercy on him. “No, no, it’s nothing serious. It’s just a Blood Demon Art affecting his cognitive processes. Namely, the ones to do with his emotions. Haven’t you noticed he’s been smiling more?”
Tanjiro’s confusion and worry fall from his face, but something else, something sad, replaces it just as quickly. “Well, I’m happy you could open up to us just a little, Giyuu-san.”
Had he been worried about that? He shouldn’t be. Giyuu isn’t a talkative person to begin with. Really, Tanjiro shouldn’t worry so much about him.
“Yes,” Kocho hums, “but I’m just keeping him here to monitor his conditions. This is prime time to learn about Tomioka-san, after all! With this Blood Art, he wears all of his thoughts on his face! It’s fascinating.”
Hm, Giyuu’s going to need to deal with that somehow.
–
Giyuu stays at the Butterfly Mansion for another day before they’re summoned to the Master’s estate for the biannual Hashira meeting. It happens at breakfast with just him, Kocho, and her little nurses; Tanjiro and his friends had been summoned away on a mission.
Kanzaburou flies in through an open window alongside Kocho’s crow, En. He croaks out in his usual voice that he must attend the Hashira meeting, but Giyuu notices it. This isn’t his usual voice. It sounds so much hoarser than usual. Is he getting sick? Giyuu knows the truth: he’s getting old. Well, he’s always been old, but now, Giyuu can see the differences.
Not only is his voice much more gravelly, but his feathers are going grey, too. The once-glossy finish they had has dulled with his age. Even worse, Giyuu remembers what he looked like, years ago, when they had first met. His memory was much better, and his flying. He was far more lucid and coherent.
Giyuu had thought, years ago, that he ought to let the old bird retire, but Kanzaburou had refused. He had scolded Giyuu for such thoughts. His age had been showing for quite some time now, and it had worried Giyuu, but he wanted to let his crow make his own decisions. Kanzaburou had chosen to stay with Giyuu.
His heart starts to ache, he feels it squeeze in his chest, and his vision blurs with tears. He hasn’t cried in so long, it feels foreign. Distantly, he hears Kocho’s conversation with her own crow stop abruptly as tears start to roll down his cheeks, and he cuddles Kanzaburou to his chest.
“T-Tomioka-san?” He hears Kocho call out to him, clearly concerned, but he can’t bring himself to drag his eyes away from the spot on the table they’ve become glued to as all his thoughts wash over him at once.
Even his life span as a demon slayer, as a Hashira, is so much longer than his crow’s. One day, he’ll have to bury Kanzaburou, too, like he has had to do for everyone else who has gotten close to him.
Kocho tenderly dabs away his tears with a handkerchief. “I can’t possibly begin to imagine what you may be feeling or thinking right now. Is it your crow? Does his age worry you that much?” He sees her brows furrow and her cheeks draw up just a little, scrunching her eyes. Her lips pull into a frown as she wipes away more tears that have fallen. “Tomioka-san, Giyuu-san, you must know that all living things will die eventually. It’s okay to be sad about it, but don’t let it overshadow the moments you have left with loved ones.”
Her words shock him. She sounds like an older sister. Like his older sister. It’s terribly ironic that, despite being her senior both in age and as a demon slayer and Hashira, she seems like the older one. Here he is crying over his aging bird, and she’s wiping away his tears, handing him tissues, and comforting him.
She’s always been incredibly reliable, even before she became a Hashira. She is one of the very few doctors in the Corps. It was years before she found her little butterfly girls and took them in, before they started helping her.
“I’m sorry, Kocho,” he mutters into Kanzaburou’s feathers. “How unbecoming of me. It must be unsightly.”
Kocho just rubs his back comfortingly. She doesn’t reply with snark or sarcastic quips. When she speaks, her tone is the furthest possible thing from teasing. “Don’t speak like that. We’ve all had to face mortality before, our own and that of other’s. It’s incredibly difficult, but we must accept it.”
“You remind me of my older sister,” he says suddenly, maybe compelled by the Blood Art. She doesn’t respond, but her features soften, and she looks at him a little kinder.
Later, they walk together to the Ubuyashiki estate. Giyuu, once again, takes the time to admire the scenery on the way there, but this time, it’s never interrupted by anxiety. The Master has always been a comforting presence to him and others. Though he has noticed that as his relationship with Kocho– Shinobu improves, so do his feelings toward the Butterfly Mansion.
They arrive shortly after Himejima, who arrives first the most often. As Shinobu strikes up a friendly conversation with him, Kanroji walks in with Rengoku and Iguro. When she spots him on his own, she rushes over to greet him, and Giyuu ignores the way Iguro glares at him.
Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all because Rengoku once let slip Iguro’s curse to him by accident. He had made him swear not to reveal what he knew to anyone. From there, Giyuu slowly started to notice Iguro’s jealous streak, but it’s sweet and heartwarming that he and Kanroji have managed to find each other in the midst of this war. It fills him with a sense of hope that is rare to come by, so he just lets Iguro glare at him.
“Tomioka-san! Are you doing well today?” She asks him cheerfully, with Rengoku and Iguro following close behind.
“I’m doing well now, but I was upset this morning.” The three of them look at him in shock. This was the first time he’s been so honest with them, after all.
“Oh, dear. What happened?”
“I realized that Kanzaburou is getting very old, and thinking about him dying made me sad.”
Kanroji gives him a sympathetic look as Rengoku asks, “Kanzaburou is your crow, right?” At Giyuu’s confirmation, he says, “Don’t worry, my friend. I’m sure he’s had a wonderful time staying by your side.”
Giyuu finds himself nodding along to his words. “Thank you, Kanroji, Rengoku.”
Iguro watches him with a look that Giyuu can’t identify. He soon walks away to talk to Shinazugawa, who had just arrived, with a hand held protectively over his snake.
Once everyone else has arrived, they sit down with a Master. The meeting progresses without fanfare; there’s nothing unusual to report, no one has died, and there doesn’t seem to be a large amount of demon activity in anyone’s region.
Then the Master addresses him. “Giyuu, I heard you’ve been at the Butterfly Estate. Is everything alright?” The eyes of the other Hashira focus on him, and he feels his skin start to crawl.
“Yes, Master. Shinobu just requested it.”
He hears Iguro scoff behind him, “Is she concerned you were showing emotion for once?”
“What is that supposed to mean, Iguro-san?” Shinobu asks with thinly veiled anger.
Giyuu feels his heart start to pick up. He really doesn’t want to start any arguments. Anxiety claws at his throat, pushing him to speak up. “No. It was only minor injuries.”
“Goodness, Tomioka,” Uzui sighs, sending him a pitying look, “‘minor injuries’ kept you in the Butterfly Estate for multiple days? Are you feeling alright?”
No, that’s not what he meant! They’re just jumping to conclusions without listening to him. Like they always fucking do. Anxiety gives way to anger and frustration that roots in his chest. They feel horrifyingly similar; his breathing becomes increasingly laboured, he feels like there’s a lump in his throat that prevents him from speaking properly, and no matter what he does, the feeling won’t leave.
Shinobu still tries her best to defend him. “I believe that he’s under the effects of a Demon Blood Art, right now, so I had him stay longer to monitor his condition.”
“You had him attend a meeting in that state?” Rengoku gasps. “What if he isn’t feeling well?”
If he really wasn’t feeling well, Giyuu wouldn’t fucking be here, Rengoku.
“What does the Blood Art even do? He seems fine to me,” Tokito mumbles.
“Muichiro-kun, it’s wrong to make assumptions like that!” Kanroji scolds, but everyone’s been making assumptions!
Giyuu forces himself to take deep breaths, willing the pain in his throat to leave as the Master silences the room. “Children,” he chides, “how shameful.” Giyuu is taken aback. They all are — the Master has never scolded them or spoken to them in such a way. “Obanai, you can shame someone for having feelings. It’s part of human nature.” Iguro deflates and looks away.
“Tengen, you barely listened to Giyuu and cut him off before he could properly explain. What if he hadn’t wanted to divulge that he was afflicted with a Blood Art? You forced Shinobu to announce it to everyone.”
Uzui hangs his head. “My humblest apologies, Master, Tomioka, Kocho.” He apologizes, but it doesn’t bring relief to Giyuu. It does nothing to ease the frustration festering in him because they always make assumptions about him.
“Mitsuri, Kyojuro,” the Master looks between them, “There is no need to try and speak for Giyuu, he is plenty capable.”
As both of them squeak and bellow out apologies, Giyuu feels his heart slowly calm. He takes another deep breath and tries to cast his frustrations out of his head.
What’s most interesting is that Shinazugawa didn’t say anything. He still hasn’t. Usually, he never passes up the opportunity to attack Giyuu for something. Giyuu is grateful. Normally, he’d be able to ignore his comments, and they never mean anything to him, but this damned Blood Art has been making his everyday life so difficult. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle any of Shinazugawa’s mean and biting words today.
Giyuu doesn’t say much for the rest of the meeting and is quick to run off as soon as it’s over. It’s about time he gets out of Shinobu’s hair, anyway, so he decides to return to his estate. It’s quiet and solitary, as he usually prefers it.
Today, it’s unbearably lonely. Silence haunts his estate and clings to it stubbornly. Giyuu hasn’t bothered to decorate the place, so it’s stayed empty, bland. He once heard someone say that the home is a reflection of the soul—it was some vendor on the street trying to sell him useless decorations—and he thinks he finally understands what it means.
He’s so overwhelmed right now. After the meeting, irritation has clung to him like a second skin. After this morning, sorrow for Kanzaburou follows him like a dark cloud. He wants it all gone.
It’s not like anyone even wants his dumb fucking emotions anyway. He definitely doesn’t; all they’ve done is hinder his job and his everyday happenings. Shinobu finds them disturbing and creepy, for god’s sake. She always has. How could he have possibly thought that she cared more for him now that he was opening up? No, he was just some poor schmuck tied up in an interesting Demon Blood Art for her to dissect.
The other Hashira don’t want his emotions either. All they do is send him pitying looks, like he can’t take care of himself, or they throw it back in his face. He’s being vulnerable about how he feels about how his crow is aging, how it upsets him, and Iguro uses it to snark him in the goddamn meeting.
Sure, he’s not the most open person in the world, but neither are the rest of them! He can only say for sure that Kanroji and Rengoku are genuine in how they present themselves. Everyone else is hiding something or masking their true feelings with fake personalities. So, given all that, why is he the only one whose feelings are treated like some fucking phenomenon? Why are they so fucking special? Huh? Why, Iguro—
Once more, silence overwhelms Giyuu in his empty, soulless, personality-lacking house. How pathetic that he’s standing here, alone, in the middle of an empty room, yelling at people in his head? God, could he get any more pitiful?
Something nasty strikes Giyuu in the heart, and he feels his chest tighten like it did earlier that morning. His eyes sting and start to water, and he tries desperately to wipe his tears away with the sleeves of his haori, but it only opens the floodgates.
He can’t stop himself from crying openly, harder than he had in the Butterfly Mansion. It’s pathetic.
Self-loathing thoughts lash at his mind like a whip; it’s painful, but he can’t push through their strength. His mind starts reeling, bringing him from one memory to another, dragging him into the pits of his darkness.
He doesn’t know how long he lies there, in a fetal position, on the floor of his house. He stares off into the distance, looking past the wall in front of him. He doesn’t know how long he cries for, or when he stops. He doesn’t feel enough strength in his arms and legs to even crawl to the unmade futon that’s been sitting in the middle of his room for almost a week now, untouched for that long.
All he knows is that the sun has set by now, and he’s hungry, but he can’t be bothered to get up and find food. He probably doesn’t even have any. Fuck, he can’t even take care of himself, how could he possibly have believed that he could take care of others?
Shinobu is three years younger than he and has taken on the responsibilities of other people’s health and wellbeing, but he can’t even get up and cook for himself. Tanjiro is even younger, and he still takes care of his friends and his sister, but he can’t even keep his pantry stocked.
Before he can drag himself even deeper into his self-depracating and self-loathing thoughts, a knock at the door draws his attention. He pulls himself to his feet, narrowly avoiding tripping over nothing and crashing back down to the floor.
He trudges toward the gate of his estate, and he’s shocked to find Shinazugawa Sanemi on the other side. Shinazugawa seems just as shocked at the state that Giyuu’s in. His eyes widen significantly, and his mouth parts like he wants to say something, berate Giyuu for letting himself go, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he yells, “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?!”