Archive of Our Own

The first time they met, Rengoku had nothing he wanted to do with the demon. They briefly fought, and throughout the entire fight the demon laughed and grinned and smiled, trying to tempt Kyojuro to become a demon with him. Pleading, almost. Rengoku outright refused. He would not change his life like so, his morals and values of humanity would not allow him. They were interrupted by the sun, and Akaza made himself scarce, simply vanishing into the woods. The second time they met, they fought at night again. And the third. But the fourth was unexpected. Akaza had paid him a visit randomly out of the blue. Just to see my favourite pillar. 

And so the fifth time, and the sixth. Sometimes they fought, sometimes Akaza watched from afar and Rengoku wondered why he wouldn't come closer. Sometimes he would round a corner and find the pink haired man waiting for him. Their meetings became frequent; more were just to see my favourite pillar than fight but Rengoku stayed wary all the same.

The wind softly whistled into his ear, blowing through his hair, gently messing it up. The water of the lake in front of him shimmered and sparkled in the setting sun. The last rays of light were fading.

Kyoujurou sat at the edge of the small outcrop of land piercing into the lake, under the branches of a drooping willow tree. He meditated, taking in the calm and steeling his mind. 

It was not long after the sun set that his sensations alerted him. He was being watched. 

His golden eyes opened. In the light of the moon, a shadow on the ground confirmed a presence. 

He turned his head and glanced up.

A demon lay in the tree, spread out on the thickest lowest branch, dangling one leg off and resting his head on his propped-up arm. He grinned. Kyoujurou wished he hadn't looked.

"What do you want?" Kyoujurou looked back out at the water but his hand instinctively moved to the sword at his side. There was no need to be excessively wary this time, the humans and demons had made a temporary truce. It was a shock for all when Muzan showed up to Oyakata-sama, demanding audience. 

But a new danger had plagued the lands. Shapeless, bodiless monsters they called Nightmares. It fed on demons and humans alike. It tore through the Lower Moons like nothing. Upon seeing its destructive powers, even Sanemi silenced and accepted the need for pairing up. None of them were happy about it but if they were to survive, they would have to bear it.

But even if Akaza was predictable to an extent, even if there was a truce, sometimes Akaza just wanted a brawl. 

The demon in the tree hopped off, waddling over to Kyoujurou. He stopped beside him and looked out at the lake. 

"Make a pact with me."

"What?" Kyoujurou’s mind took a moment to process the words.

They looked at each other at the same time. Akaza's face beamed with his smile. "You interest me, Kyoujurou."

"I will not."

Akaza's smile didn’t falter. He shrugged and looked at the lake again. 

"It's a guarantee." 

"For what?"

"For when all this ends," Akaza gestured at the still lake. "We won't kill each other."

Rengoku shook his head. "Impossible. It is my duty to eradicate all harmful demons." He pointedly glanced at Akaza. "Such as yourself."

"So, you will turn your blade on me the moment you slay the last nightmare?" Akaza didn't look sad at all. His eyes gleaned, and his voice was filled with mock-despair. "Such betrayal."

Rengoku couldn't help but give a short, hearty laugh. Despite the fact that this demon had killed hundreds, if not thousands, despite the fact that he was meant to hate him, somewhere in his chest he felt a sense of warmth. Somehow, around him, it was okay. As long as he didn't think about the demon murdering bit. 

"Yes. Yes, I will." 

The water of the lake rippled.

Kyoujurou tensed. "Leave. I have work to do." He stood up and flinched when a bright light hit his eyes from the ground. He looked over.

Akaza was in a stance, a white snowflake glowing under him. There seemed to be a sudden wind, fluttering his little vest and hair. His eyes were trained onto the bubbling water.

"Nah, I can't let you have all the fun."

Rengoku regarded him, drawing his sword as he too, readied himself for the oncoming battle. He had been waiting for the Nightmare to rise for hours now. His legs ached for movement.

"Very well then," he said, grinning back, "The first to land the last blow gets one wish."

Akaza laughed beside him, "Agreed. I hope you are prepared to do what I want."

Rengoku's eyes twinkled, "We shall see."

///

His eyes snapped open. With a hurry, Kyoujurou sat up, wincing at the sudden pain in his side. He looked around. 

He was in the middle of an empty room, lying on a soft futon. Beside him, a bowl of food and a cup of water, and some fresh bandages. Against one wall lay his sword and his clothes, neatly folded. 

Rengoku closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. The last he remembered was hurtling himself at the Nightmare, and then suddenly it twisted, it's rearing ugly form doing a complete 180 and some appendage sliced at his side. He was batted away like a ragdoll, hitting the ground hard and then his memory ended. 

Did they kill it? He shuffled in his spot, listening for sounds. This room was not familiar to him, and the smell was not of the butterfly estate. In fact, there was no smell. Only the occasional sound of creaking and distant groaning of wood. 

Rengoku mustered his strength and stood up. Carefully, he changed out of the robes on him into his clothes and strapped the sword in place. Slowly, he slid open the only door and looked out. 

Endless space and staircases and rooms stretched out before him. Even as he watched, they would occasionally rumble, and something would move out of the corner of his eye.

Rengoku felt a sense of dread settle into him. This was not normal; this was definitely not a human realm. That meant …

He looked down at his hands. He wasn't sure why he did, but the sight of human colored skin seemed to relax him. No, he was not turned. He was still human. Rengoku breathed a sigh of relief, safe for now.

Time to find a way out. 

Hours dragged by as he wandered the halls. There was not a soul in sight. A thought of uncertainty crossed his mind. Was he meant to stay in the room? Surely, they would have locked him up. But the door was open, it meant ok to wander then? He hoped to find an exit soon.

Stairs upon stairs he climbed, many hallways walked, hundreds of corners turned. 

He would hear whispers or the padding of feet. When he looked, there was nobody around. When he called out, only the silence answered him.

He considered returning to his room but realised, in his adventures, he had lost the way back. 

Dread filled him and fatigue suddenly settled on his shoulders. He leaned against a wall, briefly considering resting here and wait for someone to find him.

Then he heard voices. At first, he ignored them, mayhaps they were fleeting like all the others. But no, the more he listened and strained his ears, the more he was sure. They were nearby. 

He sped up his walk, pausing now and then to stop and listen. He paced another hallway before coming to a stop outside a door. It looked slightly different to the others. He reached up and hesitated.

He heard a name.

Akaza.

Akaza.

Yes, just the person he was looking for! He grasped the door and slid it open, boldly taking one step forwards.

He didn't walk in further.

The sight in front of him was a conflicting mess of emotions.

The room was lined with beautiful furniture, walls decorated with the prettiest of arts. Cushions spread all over the centre of the room, surrounding a slightly raised platform upon which a fluffy looking futon was laid. On it was Akaza, his head hanging off the edge, eyes rolled back and half lidded in bliss, mouth drawn open, blood and saliva trailing from his lips, and his arms wrapped around the neck of the golden haired man in between his legs. He was panting, moaning, whimpering. "Ah- ah-"

One hot second after the door opened, his glazed eyes focused on Rengoku. His pink eyebrows knitted in drunk confusion. 

The figure between his legs looked up also, and Rengoku stiffened. His own eyes stared back at him. They were just as golden, his hair just as fiery. For a moment, they widened in surprise, flickering to a rainbow tinge. 

Under him, Akaza dropped one hand from his shoulder and tilted his head. "Kyoujurou?-"

Rengoku slid the door shut with such speed it rebounded a little and whirled away from the scene.

A scene of himself, no, someone posing as himself fucking Akaza. He was flushed. His body felt hot. His eyes darted from spot to spot. What was that? Why? What sick joke was being pulled on him? The image of Akaza's face in pure bliss came up again and he felt an uncomfortable tightening in his pants. What he would do to see-

No. This was unacceptable. He would not be turned on by a demon.

He turned and stalked down the corridor, eager to find his room and return to it. He hurried, not wanting to meet anyone at this point. But no matter how many corridors he tried or doors he threw open, he could not find his way back. 

In desperation, he chose a random room and took refuge in it. Rengoku kneeled on the floor, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Focus. 

Focus.

For a while it worked, his mind blanked and cleared, but the distant sounds of creaking wooden stairs and the occasional steps outside the door kept him on edge. He wasn't able to truly relax. Every time he heard shuffling outside, he thought of the demon.

Akaza's face flashed again in his mind, and the soft moans he was making played again into his ears. He grit his teeth, fingers clenching into his thighs. Enough! How long will this go on?

Get it together-

"Kyoujurou."

Rengoku jolted in his spot, and sharply looked over his shoulder back at the door. There was Akaza, face slightly flushed and skin shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. His hair was tousled, and his pants sat crookedly on his hips. 

Rengoku's eyes travelled down the v-lines of his abdomen before they reached the low hem and he tore his gaze off. 

Akaza took a step into the room and slid the door shut behind him. Rengoku looked away.

"Leave."

The demon didn't. Kyoujurou heard his footsteps fall softly until the demon sided beside him, kneeling down. 

Rengoku forced his gaze away from the hand reaching out. 

It landed gently on his knee and gave a soft squeeze. It received no response and Akaza drew his hand away.

"Did we kill it?" Rengoku asked after a long silence, trying to change the tense air. He could smell Akaza with how close he was sitting, the smell of sweat and sex and it was doing nothing to calm the arousal he was experiencing. He couldn't even look in his direction. 

"Yes. I did."

"Why am I here?"

"You were injured." Akaza's hands dropped to the floor and he crawled into Rengoku's vision. "I couldn't take you to your healers because of the wisteria. I had you treated here."

Rengoku supposed it made sense. He supposed he was a little grateful.

“Kyoujurou-”, Akaza’s hand reached out to his face but Rengoku swatted it away, tilting his face to avoid its touch.

“Don’t touch me.”

Akaza’s eyes dimmed, and something sinister flashed across them. Rengoku wished he had been looking fully, not just out of the corner of his eye, wished he had a sword on him; but whatever emotion it was, it quickly vanished. Akaza stood silently, padding past the man. At the door, he stopped. A silence lasted a while, and Rengoku thought Akaza had something to say, but the demon ended up saying nothing and left without a word.

When Kyoujurou opened the door a few hours later, he found himself outside in an open rice field.

///

Summer waned into autumn, green leaves into gold, falling and littering the ground. The nights grew colder and the demon’s presence fainter.

The first week passed easily, Kyoujurou tried not to think about the incident, and when asked where he had disappeared to, he simply said ‘personal matters’.

The second week dragged on painfully slow. He found himself glancing over his shoulder in every battle, in every stroll. Sometimes, he thought he heard a footstep in the moonlight, a soft whisper in the lonesome night. Sometimes, when he was drifting asleep, he thought someone was with him in the room, a melancholic presence.

To evade these delusions, he pushed himself harder every evening, practiced longer and harder until his knees buckled, and he would fall asleep before his head even hit the pillow. It did little to ease his second guessing, his tension. He lay awake for longer, waiting for the gentle caress, the soft whisper, for him to reveal himself. It never came when he was awake. 

One battle he staggered after delivering the final blow, unaware of a remaining, smaller blob coming at him from behind. Kyoujurou fell to his knees, panting and dangerously close to passing out, overworked and exhausted. An explosion behind him caught his attention and he whipped around, finding the blob destroyed into pieces but nobody around him. 

His vision flickered and he used his sword to hold himself up, eyes flicking back and forth to check for any other dangers. Kyoujurou took a step forward, but his knee gave way and he fell forward.

A hand firmly grasped his arm, pulling him back up. 

Rengoku swung his sword, stopping it mere inches from the man’s throat. His eyes landed on gold and blue. Akaza stared back at him, head tilted slightly away from the incoming blade. Rengoku grit his teeth, finding his balance and cursing at the relief that rolled over him.

Akaza was safe.

He didn’t know why he was glad. Or so he told himself.

“Why are you here?”

Akaza returned a grin, carefree and joyous. “To see my favourite pillar.”

His arm drew back and Rengoku barely had the time to dodge the incoming punch, ducking and ripping himself free from Akaza’s grip. Ah, so they were fighting again. As usual.

Akaza was relentless, and Rengoku was on the verge of collapsing. Every hit hurt; every sweep took the breath out of him. He barely landed a blow on Akaza, staying on the defensive and hoping to just wait it out, wait until Akaza grew tired and stopped. He lost track of time, clinging onto consciousness with all his effort. How much time had passed since they started? How long had they been going at it? He didn’t know. He stepped and fell, landing onto his knees. The sword clattered from his hands onto the grass. 

He saw it coming, he saw Akaza flash across the meadow at him, sail through the air and into the night sky, arm pulled back into a finishing blow. Kyoujurou could see it, process it and yet his body could not move. There was no strength left in his limbs. He wished to close his eyes, but even that was nigh impossible. Instead, he stared into Akaza’s gleaming eyes, lips pulled into a grin, the moon behind him like a halo. It was wild, and yet he thought it was… beautiful in its own way.

How sad, he thought, that this is the last thing he would see. 

His eyes slipped shut at the last minute, and the world went dark. 

He awoke in the Butterfly Estate, hurting and worn out. Deep in his heart, he wished he heard the creaking of wood. 

///

It was as if nothing had happened. As if the incident at the Dimensional Fortress was a livid dream Kyoujurou’s mind had feverishly made up one night. As if the two weeks he spent on his toes were just self-inflicted paranoia and stress.

Akaza never mentioned it, and Kyoujuou did not have the strength to bring it up.

Once more the demon was everywhere he went. He was there when Kyoujurou fought the Nightmares. He was around the corner when Rengoku left any estate or village after gathering information. He was there in his gardens, hidden away in a nook and surrounded by flowers, eyes trained up at the moon in wonder. The way the cold light fell onto his pale skin, how his golden eyes became silver and how the light softened his features. Kyoujurou felt and fought the urge to reach out and run his hand down his face, his fingers through his hair. 

In such, he had become accustomed to the demon’s presence. Enough to know when he appeared, even if he could not see him. But then the Nightmares suddenly disappeared, and not a trace of them was found ever again. In the hopes they exterminated all of them, the searches for the last intensified. And then Muzan called off the truce, as sharply as he had come to propose it. The announcement had sent a cold running through all the pillars. The time to fight each other was upon them again. For others, it was a shiver of anticipation and determination. For Kyoujurou it was a shiver of fear. Since then, Kyoujurou did not hear from or see Akaza. It was as if the demon too, had dropped off the end of the earth, along with the Nightmares. 

And after another week of Akaza’s unexplained absence, in the still of a quiet night, when not even the insects chirped, with his eyes closed as he rested outside on the engawa, enjoying a bottle of sake, he felt it.

A simple call, a whisper, a tug. A slight distortion in the air around him. A hint of danger. A wave of familiarity. His heart skipped a beat and he held a breath. Kyoujuro opened his eyes, and his gaze fell upon the small labyrinth of bushes and trees, not far off from the building. There. 

His hand reached for his sword, lying beside him, but at the last minute he decided not to. Something in his heart told him that this time, maybe just this one last time, the demon would do no harm. 

He found Akaza sitting in the middle of the bushes again, knees tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. His head rested on his knees; eyes trained onto the sky. A distant explosion caught Kyoujurou’s attention and he glanced in the same direction, watching the sky light up in beautiful colours as fireworks erupted in the air. A festival in celebration of the Nightmares’ defeat, he recalled briefly. He glanced back to the demon, watching the colors mirror in his eyes, how enchanted and entranced he seemed to be.

Suddenly, Akaza looked very small. Vulnerable, even. All gathered up and fixated on the lights, a melancholic and nostalgic look in his eyes, and to Kyoujurou’s chagrin his heart clenched at the sight. He moved towards him, settling down on the grass beside Akaza without a word. If the other noticed him, Akaza did not show it. They watched the fireworks go off in silence, sitting close, arms almost touching. 

When the fireworks ended, neither moved. Rengoku, in thought, lost track of time and when a pressure leaned against his shoulder he jolted, looking down. 

Akaza was resting on his shoulder, eyes closed and his breath faint. Kyoujurou frowned softly, trying to tilt his head. Was the demon… asleep? He looked so peaceful and innocent. A murderer could not match this face. Kyoujurou moved slowly, suddenly not wanting to disturb the other. He thanked whatever luck he had that his estate was empty tonight. They would not be found, and he could enjoy this moment selfishly, without interference, without anyone knowing. The quiet kept on and soon he felt his eyes starting to close too, his head dropping down as he nodded off. 

Kyoujurou didn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he opened his eyes again, he was laying on the futon of his room. There were arms around him, and a face buried into the crook of his neck. Kyoujurou tilted his head, and his breath caught a whiff of the familiar scent. A tuft of pink hair entered his vision and he knew the man behind him. 

“Akaza,” he said softly, shifting his body to wake the other.

The demon on his shoulder stirred, letting a sound akin to a soft murr, long pink eyelashes fluttering open. Golden eyes fixed on him. Their proximity was warming, charming, pleasant. Kyoujurou could see each individual crack in the man’s scleras; he could count the eyelashes on his eyes. He could stay like this for a long time. 

Beautiful. In its own way.

Against his wishes Kyoujurou sat up, and Akaza’s arms reluctantly slipped off him, the warmth on his back disappearing. He glanced down at Akaza. The demon hadn’t moved, still laying there, in his futon, under his covers, eyes watching as Kyojurou covered up his exposed shoulder. Shadows of the moon fell over him, lighting up half his face and casting the other into darkness. Akaza tilted his head curiously. Cutely. Kyoujurou turned away. This felt wrong. It felt intimate. Laying so wrapped up together like lovers would. His denial got the better of him, throwing away the straying thoughts of the comfort he found in the moment. 

His hand reached for the bottle of sake and he poured himself another cup, hoping the taste would distract him. 

Shuffling behind him should have caught his attention, but he was still startled when Akaza gently pressed against his back. Rengoku set the cup down, wary of what was to come. In the quiet, he was sure Akaza could hear his heart beating, threatening to come out of his ribcage.  

"We had a deal." Akaza said, his breath ghosting the back of Rengoku’s neck. Kyojuro tensed as curious hands slipped up his back. One adventured around his neck, up his jaw and lightly pushed it sideways, so that Rengoku was looking in Akaza’s direction. The other wrapped itself around him, pulling him closer.

“One wish.”

"What do you want?"

Akaza was in front of Rengoku now, on his hands and knees, leaning in to Rengoku's space. A smile danced on his lips. His hand slid up his thigh and Rengoku, too startled and yet curious to throw it off, stared at it instead. When he lifted his gaze to meet Akaza's he found the demon so very close. He could feel his breath on his lips.

"I want you to fuck me, Kyoujurou."

The image of Akaza's head lolling over the edge of the bed flashed through his mind again and Rengoku's fists tightened. 

His face must have formed visible hesitation, for Akaza’s smile broadened. He leaned in closer, lightly brushing his lips against Rengoku's mouth.

"I've thought about you so much. So damn much. Every day, every night. When I see you, when we fight, you look so good. You feel so good." He lifted his eyes to meet the pillar’s, filling Rengoku’s world with gold, blue and pink, "I want to know what it's like to be held by you. Pinned down. I want to know how you feel in me as you use me."

Rengoku didn't move. He didn't reciprocate but he didn't shuffle back either. The way Akaza said his name, the way he breathed out every word with a slight mumble, with half-lidded eyes and the way they lifted up to meet his own. He was, again, undeniably hard. He hated the way Akaza talked, it lit a fire in him, a warmth in the pit of his stomach.

"I think about you every night. Your strong arms around me, your hands on me," Akaza took Rengoku's hand and placed it on his chest. The pillar unwillingly held his breath, following with his eyes as Akaza lead their hands down his chest and to his stomach, letting Rengoku's hand glide over every curve of muscle. 

"Your breath against my skin, and how it'll make me shiver, " Akaza leaned in closer, brushing his lips against Rengoku's again and slowly trailing very light faint kisses down his jaw and to his neck. 

"How you taste," A tongue slid up his neck and Rengoku shivered, letting his eyes slip shut and a shaky breath out.

Akaza was crawling onto him, straddling him, hips lightly rolling against Rengoku's. "Your dick," Akaza's breath hitched as their erections touched through the cloth and Rengoku couldn't help but groan a bit, "in me, stretching me, ruining me, filling me."

He didn't know why he was playing along, why he let Akaza climb all over him and grind himself off on him. But Akaza's eyes were getting a little hazy again and Rengoku couldn't stop staring. The way Akaza was trying to get off on him just through grinding, selfishly, was alluring. He let him. 

"Just that?" Rengoku finally asked once he got a chance, his voice low and hoarse, "And then? You'll kill me?"

Akaza's arms slipped from around Rengoku's neck to his face and he shook his head desperately. "No, no, you'll never see me again I promise. Just this once." His eyes opened once more and he peered into the slayer’s, as if seeking permission, as if begging Kyoujurou to let it happen. 

Rengoku could barely function. He could get off and leave and never see this guy again. It sounded like a good deal. His sober mind may have said it was a bad idea, but he was high off Akaza and nothing could change that right now.

"Not a word to anyone." Rengoku growled, pushing off his knees and sending himself forward, and Akaza back onto the fluffy futon on tatami mats, the pillows beneath them giving off a soft ‘umph’. "Not a breath. And if I see you again, I will kill you."

"Yes, our secret," Akaza breathed out, perhaps a little too eagerly, already fiddling with Rengoku's yukata and pushing it off. Rengoku let him, leaning down to bite into Akaza's shoulder. It wasn't warm. None of Akaza was warm in the way that he knew warmth. But he bit it nonetheless and relished in the way Akaza moaned out, grasping the back of his head with his hand and pulling him closer. Akaza's legs wrapped around his waist, trapping him in as he pushed up against him. Desperate. Eager. Impatient. 

They stripped in a rush, never leaving each other’s mouths. Rengoku's tongue pushed in further and Akaza welcomed him, moaning into the kiss. Rengoku pushed up against him, and on the first thrust Akaza arched into him, gripping at his shoulders. Rengoku started rolling and thrusting his hips, and Akaza's hands pawed at skin.

The demon pulled away, breaking the kiss for a breath and uttered, hazy eyes settling on Kyoujurou’s face and letting one hand rest on his cheek softly, gently caressing, almost like a lover would. “Oh, Kyoujurou,” he whispered softly, and Rengoku had to remind himself, this was a demon, he was not capable of feelings, and none of this would mean anything at the end. They were not in love. They were not in love. They were not-

Kyoujurou grunted, grasping a leg and hitching it up over his shoulder without surprise at the little resistance it offered. His hand grasped the exposed skin (a memory flashed in his mind, and Rengoku found he hated that another man would take his face in Akaza's world and fantasies) and sunk his fingers in, slowly one by one, scissoring and stretching him out. Akaza gasped and bucked up, his mouth dropping open into a little ‘o’, the inner corners of his brows twitching up, little fangs peeking out. It was such a cute face-

They were not in love.

His ministrations didn’t last long, and he shuffled in closer between Akaza’s legs, using some oil he had lying around to prep them both, pushing in shortly after. He tried his best not to stare as Akaza arched his back with a moan, his head digging into the pillows and his eyes first fluttering shut then snapping open, his hands running down his sides and to his hips, up Kyoujurou’s arms where they grasp him, towards his biceps, soft and gentle, fingers spreading to take up as much as he could of him.

He set a moderate pace, unhurried and almost careful, letting Akaza adjust - not that the demon needed it, already grasping at his arms and rolling him back his hips to meet every thrust, urging him, begging him with his body to speed it up just a little more each time. Akaza’s arms entwined themselves around his neck, pulling him down gently towards his face, pressing their mouths together in a hungry yet passionate kiss. Rengoku himself leaned in, pressing their chests together, wrapping one arm around Akaza’s waist and lifting him up closer. Kyoujurou didn’t know why he was doing him so gently, no, he was not fucking him - was it… making love?

The thought snapped something in his brain, and he gripped Akaza’s hips with newfound fury and strength, enough to make Akaza jerk his head up in surprise. The demon’s face twisted, not unpleasantly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as Kyoujurou picked up the pace, before dropping back down and gripping the pillow underneath him, mouth opening for a symphony of moans.

“Kyou-... Kyou!”

Kyoujurou leaned down, digging his teeth into Akaza’s flesh, enough to bruise and break skin but wary of ingesting blood, muffling the grunts escaping him. Even so, Akaza kept his arms around him, hands travelling over his skin and fingers digging into his back, before returning them to Rengoku’s face, lifting it from where he bit his shoulder. They kissed, hungry and deep, and into it they groaned each other’s names, bodies tangled together in the dark, quiet whimpers and groans in the midnight, hidden away from prying eyes and listening ears, with only the moon and stars as their witness. 

He was not in love.

///

How many days had it been since? How many nights Rengoku spent sleepless, tossing and turning? With every rising moon he would look into the distance, trying to feel for his presence. It never came. He kept his word.

They would never see each other again.

As the days and nights passed uneventfully Kyoujurou grew to believe the words. It didn’t ease the longing for the lingering touches, the ghosting kisses, the warmth and presence of another body beside him in the night. Even his fellow Pillars were starting to ask if he was alright, if he was sick. His cheery demeanour had changed. It seemed less real. After every laugh and after every smile, a glance to the side and a quiet that was unnaturally uncharacteristic of him. 

And then Muzan attacked. He attacked with a relentless force, and the final battle began.

They had been scattered around the Ubuyashiki establishment, doing various things, training, resting, when it happened. 

Kyoujurou had hurried back, his sword out and his speed superhuman. To protect their leader, their master, to put an end to the demon lord. Countless of demons fell to his blade as he sliced through a pathway for himself. 

The establishment he reached was no longer recognisable. It was up in flames, ruins, destroyed and flattened.

In the midst of the smoke, he saw a figure crouching. His legs brought him to a stop and Rengoku steeled his mind again, taking a deep breath. 

He had a feeling.

A soft wind blew, and the smoke was pushed aside, revealing the squatting figure. Amidst the thinning grey, Kyoujurou’s eyes landed on a pale body, striped in blue, white pants stained red, vest dirtied, pink hair matted.

Akaza.

The demon slowly stood up and turned his head, reaching up with his hand and wiping the blood away from his mouth, smearing it across his lips and hand. The blue on his fingers was stained red, turning into a patchy purple. 

Almost instantly, Kyoujurou remembered why they killed demons, and he gripped his sword tighter. No. He did not want it to turn out like this. Better it had been someone else, better to find out from a fellow demon slayer that another had found, fought and killed Akaza. He would have retreated to his private quarters, and mourned his death in peace, in quiet, and moved on. It was meant to be that simple. They had promised.

Akaza had promised. 

And yet it wasn’t. Here they were, facing each other, one’s eyes burning with regret, chagrin and hatred, the other’s calm and remorseful. 

Kyoujurou shook away the frustration pooling in the back of his mind. 

Akaza took a step towards him, away from the pile of bodies over which he had sat. Kyoujurou gave the pile one glance, reassuring himself that it did not contain his friends. His heart went out to the lives lost. The fact that humans had been killed however, burned him. He was still late.

Too late.

His sword tilted in Akaza’s direction.

“You said we would not meet again.”

Akaza’s lips formed a sad smile.  “I did,” He admitted, taking another step closer. “And yet here we are.”

Kyoujurou lifted his sword higher, aiming its tip for Akaza’s throat. The demon’s eyes flicked to it, but he didn’t stop moving towards Kyoujurou. 

“I offered,” he said slowly, “A pact. Look at you now, you’re in pain.”

His hands reached up, taking the tip of Kyoujurou’s sword and the pillar flinched at how easily he had let the demon approach him. Blue fingers slid down the blade, running fingers along the sharp edge. Blood pooled around his fingers, leaving a red trail behind them. Kyoujurou’s breaths got heavier.

Akaza was within arm’s reach, and still coming closer. When he was just a step away, he leaned in, his breath soft against Kyoujurou’s skin. “I can’t make it with you now, but you can join me instead.”

Join? Rengoku stiffened, eyebrows furrowing. Akaza chuckled softly, “Become a demon, Kyoujurou. You won’t have to kill me. I know your heart doesn’t desire it.”

“You don’t know me.”

Akaza looked at him pensively, and his hand reached up, gently resting on Rengoku’s cheek.

“I think I do.”

They moved like lightning, faster than the eye could see. Kyoujurou’s sword swung sideways, towards Akaza’s neck and Akaza, eyes narrowing, narrowly deflected it with the palm of his hand, thrusting the sword up. Kyoujurou yelled out, bringing it down with as much force as he could muster, but Akaza was already out of reach and the sword nearly buried itself into the ground. Kyoujurou snapped his head up, eyes searching. He spotted him off to the side, incoming, fist pulled back.

No. It’s going to be a kick, with the left. 

Rengoku switched his stance at the last second, bending one knee for support and catching the predicted kick with his blade. 

Flame Breathing Second Form: Rising Scorching Sun!

The blade seared right through his leg, slicing it in half. Akaza sprang back and landed heavily on one leg. He let his other rest, and Kyoujurou watched with dissatisfaction as it stitched itself together. He would never get over the fast regeneration. Akaza smirked and a snowflake glowed into life under his feet as he rocked back into his stance and Kyoujurou tensed.

He never thought they would end up like this. Enemies, to friends, to secret lovers, and finally at each other’s throats again, unwillingly.

“I give you one last chance,” Akaza said, gathering his hands into fists. “Join me. Become a demon. Cease this meaningless fight and come,” his front hand uncurled, reaching out to Kyoujurou as if beckoning him, tempting him to take it, “Come with me. Together. Forever.”

Kyoujurou glanced at the hand and then the inhuman eyes and a fire in his chest grew. The words coming out of his mouth were thick and heavy on his tongue, and a sob threatened to waver his voice. 

“The beauty of being with someone,” Kyoujurou said softly, “Is in the precious little time you have with them.”

His eyes stung and he raised his sword again, directing it at Akaza. “And so, we end here.”

The smile on Akaza’s face faltered a little. His eyes narrowed, and Rengoku could have sworn they dimmed. “I see,” Akaza said softly. “So be it.”

He didn’t know of the others, didn’t know how long they had been fighting for, how many times the clouds covered and uncovered the moon, the smoke around them thickening and thinning. In the distance, the screaming, the crying, the clanging of metal and the smell of burning flesh. 

Kyoujuro was bruised, battered. His ribs were broken, there was blood in his eye (or maybe there was nothing in the socket). In front of him, Akaza regenerated his arm for what seemed to be the tenth time. Both were breathing heavily. It was only a miracle that Rengoku had not been incapitated yet. Mayhaps the ‘sparring’ sessions had done him well. He had learned to read.

Maybe Akaza was starting to realise it too. They were evenly matched.

Rengoku brought his sword up again, taking a deep breath. Total breathing, concentration… Nullify that pain, slow the bleeding, constrain the damage. 

He needed to end this. He wasn’t going to last any longer. His eyes met Akaza’s and the other returned his gaze evenly. They braced themselves.

“Technique Development-”

“Ninth form-”

“Destructive death-”

“Rengoku!”

“Annihilation Type!”

He wished time stood still.

No, he wished he could reverse it. Reverse it to the day he first met Akaza, back when they were ignorant of each other, didn’t care for the other’s wellbeing, just a demon slayer and a demon. Back to when things were much simpler. 

The scene in front of him unfolded in slow motion. They came together at lightning speed, eyes locked in. He thought he saw regret, remorse and despair in Akaza’s eyes, but it could have easily been his own reflection. 

His sword, cleanly, neatly, entered Akaza’s throat.

Akaza’s hand, just as neatly, pierced his chest. 

Their speed came to an abrupt end. He wasn’t sure whose blood was splattered all over him, all over Akaza. 

A rasping breath caught his attention. He wasn’t sure whose it was either, but he looked up, finding himself in Akaza’s eyes. 

Akaza’s eyebrows knitted together in distress, in pain, in despair. He opened his mouth and a river of blood poured out. 

A sob forced itself out of Rengoku’s throat, broken by a wheeze for air. 

Akaza’s hand raised, and weakly planted itself on Kyoujurou’s cheek, smearing blood down his face. Blood around his throat gurgled as he spoke, his voice barely a whisper, “Kyou…-rou...”

His knees buckled and his weight slid him down along Kyoujurou’s sword. The sudden weight on the blade forced Rengoku to buckle under the weight as well, and they both fell to their knees onto the muddy, upturned ground. 

Akaza leaned in, resting his forehead against Kyoujurou’s. The blade sank further into his throat, his neck at the guard. Rengoku felt tears prick at his eye and this time he let them flow, hot and streaming down his bloodied, dirty face. 

Already, he saw the flesh start stitching itself around the sword, but it was still in the way and Akaza was struggling to breathe, let alone speak. Kyoujurou grit his teeth, closing his eye, guilty under Akaza’s gaze. With one jerk, he swept his sword sideways, wincing at the sound of ripping flesh and cracking bone. 

The hand at his face fell away and he heard the body slump sideways.  The arm in his chest pulled him down with it, and Kyojurou felt the air pushed out of his lungs upon impact. When he finally opened his eye, and his vision stabilised, he found his gaze on the body beside him. The head was not severed entirely, hanging onto the body by a few fleshy threads but the regeneration was not kicking in, he noticed.

Akaza’s eyes were resting on him. His body moved on its own, his hand weakly and blindly trailing up Rengoku’s body until it found itself around his neck. There was no panic in Kyoujurou. The hand slid to the back of his head and stayed there, holding him. Rengoku slowly took a breath, shifting (but not without pain erupting in his chest where the arm stayed) closer to the demon. He too raised his arm, resting it on Akaza’s cheek. His thumb gently wiped the tear streaming down away. Already, the demon was starting to disintegrate. 

“Kyou-...” he whispered, his voice mangled and distorted. 

“Yes?”

The demon closed his eyes, struggling against the lack of cords and air. “Stay with me.”

Kyoujurou fought back the onset of sobs threateningly lingering at the back of his throat.

“Of course,” he said, his voice shaking, “Always.”

Akaza sighed, his pink eyelashes fluttering.

Beautiful, Kyoujurou thought as his eye slipped shut against his will, Even like this.

When the sun came up, and the remaining demon slayers searched for survivors, they found the flame pillar in the middle of a field, his breath still and his chest hollow and his hand clutching the remnants of a pink fabric.