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Giyuu hadn’t talked to Kochou Kanae much.
His usual interactions with the Flower Hashira consisted of small talk, whether it be at the Butterfly Mansion or Hashira Meetings. She seemed to be one of the more talkative hashira, with a gentle smile and quaint personality.
Hence, the reason for little reaction towards her death. Upper Two, apparently. According to her crow, Kanae had fought until dawn, when the demon fled. There was a sombre aura from the Butterfly Mansion the next time he went, to pay condolences a couple days after the funeral.
The patients were quiet, with a saddened look in their eyes. The three little girls, who Giyuu knew had been taken in only a year ago, were always close to tears as they went about their usual duties. He’d crossed paths with Aoi, who had most emotions other than anger sapped out of her face.
Giyuu hadn’t yet met the other two Kochou’s, who were the younger sisters. Or were they? He didn’t know the details of their sibling relationship, but Giyuu knew Kanae had at least one younger sister, who was a tsuguko.
Kochou Shinobu was her name, he could remember. Whenever he’d seen her for his yearly checkups, an angry feeling surrounded her at all times. She’d been spiteful towards him, and usually spat insults wherever she could see flaws. He’d overheard her yelling at some patients, as well.
Giyuu wandered around, trying to find whichever of them, as he’d already given his condolences to Aoi and the three little girls. He couldn’t exactly remember their names, but usually by the colour of their hair clips. Aoi had given him quiet directions, and Giyuu found himself stuck at a cross road where she’d left when her eyes began to water.
After some debate, Giyuu remembered that he’d gone left for Kanae’s office, for when she needed to update his medical status. It was a bit hazy, and he couldn't remember exactly which door led to the antique office, but-
Some quiet sobs stopped him. Giyuu hesitated a second before turning around to go the opposite direction, feet padding against the wood as he found the shoji open to the outside, where the sun was hidden behind some clouds. There, on the engawa, sat a girl that for a second, Giyuu mistook as the dead hashira.
Same coat. Similar hairpiece. Smaller frame, and different hairstyle, though. Would that be one of Kanae’s imouto? Either Shinobu or the other one, Kanao was her name? Giyuu swallowed before stepping forwards.
The girl stopped crying, and looked backwards while simultaneously wiping her tears. Giyuu could see how her cheeks were a pinkish hue, and how her chin slightly trembled. His eyes softened.
“Oh.” Shinobu’s voice cracked. “Tomioka-san.”
“Hello.” Giyuu replied quietly. “How are you?”
“Great, thank you.” Giyuu could tell she rolled her eyes.
Giyuu sat down next to Shinobu, legs hanging off the engawa. They sat in silence another second, Shinobu having her legs tucked up so that her face would be buried in her knees. They looked out into the training field, which was dead silent, other than the incessant chirp of crickets all throughout the day.
“Did you know her well?” Shinobu finally asked, voice muffled.
Giyuu remained silent. “Not really. She made small talk often, though. I knew her as one of the nicer hashira. I also knew that she held sympathy towards demons.”
Shinobu huffed out a bitter laugh. “Look where that got her.”
Giyuu couldn’t reply to that. “My condolences.”
“Thank you.” Shinobu picked at the seam of her pants.
“What do you plan to do now, Insect Hashira?” Giyuu wondered.
“I’ll kill him.” Shinobu’s anger startled the Water Hashira. “Chop him up into a million pieces while keeping his head intact, develop a poison that causes the slowest, most painful death imaginable, and just before he dies, I’ll put those pieces under the rays of sunset.”
Giyuu’s eyes widened, as he shimmied away from the sixteen-year-old. He had no idea how such a young girl could have so much fury. He hadn’t had that much rage after Tsutako died. He had more of a hollow acceptance and depression, not a thirst for revenge.
They both felt a sense of guilt, though. A repeating nightmare of what they could’ve done to prevent death. That they could have swapped places. That their loved ones be in their places, and vice versa.
“You cannot do that right now.” Giyuu responded. “For now, all you can do is mourn. Use that rage to become stronger, not wish for what could have been.”
Shinobu’s purple eyes met Giyuu’s blue ones. For a second, time went still.
Then, it was gone. Shinobu’s head wedged back between her knees, though as Giyuu kept watching over her, Shinobu’s shoulders started to shake, and he could hear muted sniffles.
A sense of relief washed over Giyuu, as he realised at least Shinobu could have the opportunity to mourn her nee-san. Time that Giyuu didn’t get. He’d been too busy with plotting revenge for her as well, then to disprove accusations of his insanity, then months upon months of survival alone in the mountains.
He’d then gone on to continue a plot of vengeance by training hard to be a Demon Slayer with Sabito, discarding whatever sadness he could, only for it to come back in sudden, sharp bursts. When Sabito… Giyuu just let it all go.
Kanae had diagnosed him with something of the sort. He couldn’t remember specifically what she’d called it, but Giyuu knew he could recall her saying something about repressed grief. He didn’t want such a girl to go through what he had.
So, as Shinobu cried, Giyuu just stayed with her.
He could see… so much of his own, brief mourning in the girl. Giyuu put a hand on her back, and tried to rub comfortingly. Shinobu tensed for a second, before mumbling out. “Pervert.”
Giyuu huffed through his nose and continued to rub her back. She didn’t stop him.
“Caww!” Giyuu looked up to see one of the kasugai crows circling above him and Tanjiro, with some sort of strange paper around its neck, “Kochou Shinobu! Dead! A confrontation with Upper Two!”
For some reason, his steady run stuttered. Giyuu’s ankle twisted to the side, and his body jerked to the ground. His arms caught himself, and Giyuu could only tremble on the ground. Faintly, he could hear Tanjiro calling for him.
Shinobu. Her real smile filled his memory, eyes crinkled closed and a faint quirk on her right cheek whenever it was her own smile. Kanae’s smile was always perfect, right in the centre of her face as her eyes stayed open whenever she did. Giyuu preferred Kanae’s smile on Kanae’s face, and Shinobu’s on her own. It looked better that way.
Then, the girls at the Butterfly Mansion, smiling and waving Shinobu off as her and Giyuu left for a joint mission. Their smiles pure and their own, waving with their entire arm or just a hand gesture, each watching until the two hashira faded into the distance.
Finally, he saw Kanae flash through his mind. Her smile on her face, her mannerisms all her own, separate from her younger sister. The kasugai crow reporting their deaths overlapped, as Giyuu felt an overwhelming feeling of resentment towards Upper Two, a demon he had never met.
“...poisoning herself?” Giyuu could only whisper.
Sanemi nodded slowly. “She never told you?”
“...no.” Giyuu looked down at the haori, faint blood stains still on the front that Aoi couldn’t remove without also taking out the dye of green and pink fading in from the bottom. His heartbeat was exceptionally loud in his ears, beating like a war drum as his vision shook.
She’d used up her time. She hadn’t mourned. She had also become overcome with fury, and it had cost Shinobu her own life.
“Didn’t she talk to you the most? Why wouldn't she tell you?” Sanemi mumbled from his own bed, parallel to Giyuu’s.
“Why did she tell you ?” Giyuu asked back.
“No idea.” Sanemi murmured. “She said it was top secret, so very few people were supposed to know, but I’m pretty sure all the hashira knew. I sorta assumed you did too.”
Giyuu tightened his lips. Shinobu had offhandedly told him she hated the scent of wisteria. He could always smell it around her, like a toxic gas. Kanae liked the smell of wisteria, and once Giyuu had met her again a couple weeks later, with Kanae’s haori, Kanae’s quirks, Kanae’s personality, Kanae’s smile, he thought the scent was the same deal.
Who would have guessed she had thirty-seven kilograms of poison running through her veins?
How many people had Shinobu told? Why was Giyuu left out? He could’ve stopped her, and her suicidal journey. She still had a chance to settle down or get married, live out a good life. Why had she become so obsessed with vengeance for her sister?
Oh. He could’ve stopped her.
None of the other hashira had. Shinobu had also been excellent at reading people, so she must’ve figured out earlier that none of them would stop her. But she knew that Giyuu would have tried.
Was it worth it, Giyuu wondered. Giving her life. Years upon years of building rage.
It wasn’t, to Giyuu. It wasn’t worth it. To Shinobu, it seemed, it was.