Chapter Text
Shit!
Alarm rises in your chest as a cool breeze blows through the trees; a rich golden light from the sunset gracing the changing leaves. It was the end of a long day in town selling supplies, and you were making your way back home. The walk would otherwise be idyllic if it weren't for the things that come out at night.
Normally there’s a strict schedule when you go into town to prevent being caught beyond the wisteria after dark. But mistakes happen. Your mind wanders with visions of bloodthirsty demons, a nightmare that to others might be laughed off as nonsense, but you know better.
Picking up the pace and lighting your lantern, you focus on keeping your breathing calm. Just because it’s getting dark doesn’t mean there’s a demon around, right? It’s not too much farther. You’re almost there!
As the sun dips below the horizon and the sky starts to give way to deep blue, you hear an encroaching rhythmic thumping from behind. Footsteps.
Your heart jumps in your throat and you freeze in place. All you could see was the flickering light of your lantern.
Will this be the last sight I ever see? Seriously?
The sound gets louder, faster. Cold air catches in your lungs as you’re overtaken by the smell of blood. Human blood. Your eyes clench shut and your grip on the lantern falters, almost dropping it whe-
“Hey, dumbass! What are you doing out here alone? It’s after dark!” The brash voice of the Wind Hashira pierces the night and you relax with a sigh of relief.
Not necessarily at his presence but at knowing it wasn’t a demon running up on you.
“Well, I’m lucky you happened to be around then, aren’t I?” You turn to meet his furious glare, trying to play it off like you weren’t just about to shit yourself. He gives a disappointed sigh in response.
The Wind Pillar doesn’t normally patrol this area so you surmise that he needs shelter or medical care. You scan down him to find his torso wrapped with bloody bandages. Fresh ones. That explains the smell of blood...
“Had a mission and fought two lower moon demons, the fuckers made me chase them all the way over here. Ribs are broken but I can walk.”
“We need to get you back to the house Shinazugawa,” you said with urgency.
You’ve lived at the Northeast Wisteria Crest House for several years as a resident doctor and caretaker. You help the older owners with their needs and handle most of the Demon Slayers that pass through. Usually people only need to rest for a few days but if it was serious, you had the training to intervene.
Your skills have even been acknowledged by Oyakata-sama, a gesture that shook you at the time but after a few years you’ve come to realize it’s just in his nature to give thanks to those who help his “children.”
You weren’t far from the House when you encountered Sanemi, so you got back pretty fast. Rushing into the empty medical bay, you sit him down on a bed next to a wide window before thoroughly washing your hands. The moon was low but bright and helped just enough in addition to the small candles you had on hand. You scolded yourself for not buying more while you were in town.
You fill a large bowl with water, grab a few towels and go back over to him. With great care, you begin to remove his top and work on the old bandages, soaking them to loosen their grip on his skin and wounds.
“So...do you usually get beat up this bad or…?”
He glares at your self-satisfied smirk, but doesn’t say anything.
“Do you have any other injuries?” You didn’t notice a limp or anything when he walked earlier.
“No,” he said as you slipped the last of the bandages off. Are his pecs casting a shadow on his abs? What the hell. This isn’t the first time Sanemi has passed through your House, but you haven’t been this close to him before. Last time he was here, the old lady was doing a lot more around the estate so you didn’t really interact with him.
You reach for a towel and pause for a moment taking in the view. Sitting with a slight hunch, the moonlight makes his hair almost glow in the dark. You make eye contact and scold yourself internally for sightseeing while someone is in need of care. You have a responsibility.
Deep gashes. Two of them across his chest. His skill as a Hashira allowed him to stop the bleeding using breaths and contracting his muscles. There’s no way an average person could survive these wounds. You lay him down when you determine he doesn’t have any injuries on his back and begin to clean.
You’re trying to be mindful of the pain he must be in, but he never winces. Just stares intently at the dark ceiling.
I need to stitch the fascial layer first, at least on this one. It’s deep. You planned out the approach to his wounds in your head.
There’s bruising along his right rib cage. Several broken. 6th, 7th, 8th ribs at least. They don’t appear to have punctured his lung, so that’s good...I’ll need to dress his wounds without too much pressure on his ribs though...
You stand up to get a new bowl of water, clean your hands again, and gather the supplies for stitching his wounds.
“You’re obviously not a stranger to this so just hold fast and it’ll be done quick,” you say as you thread the suture. He looks at you in acknowledgement and closes his eyes.
True to your word, you close both wounds with surprising efficiency. He voiced no complaints but you could see a sheen of sweat on his face. You got up to again wash your hands and get a new bowl of water before returning to him. You place a cold damp towel on his forehead and get to work thoroughly cleaning his bloodied abs.
There's still some dried blood on him from the old bandages so you have to be firm in a couple spots, earning a small groan when you get close to his ribs - which honestly caught you off guard to hear.
“It’ll be over soon, you’re doing great.”
“Fuck off,” he said with a strain.
“You really are a terror, Shinazugawa.”
“Tch.”
“When’s the last time you ate? Had water?” You ask as you finish wiping his body clean and reach for some fresh bandages.
So he’s second only to Himejima, huh? You thought while envisioning how big Gyomei is. You didn’t encounter the Hashira often but you made it your business to be familiar with them.
“This morning.”
“Okay, let me finish wrapping this up and I’ll bring you a change of clothes and some dinner.”
You get up and walk over to a cabinet, pull out a gourd of water and bring it back to him. “I’ll be back in a bit, you can lay in any of the other beds.”
A little while later, you return with a bowl of food in one hand and a yukata in the other.
“It’s about damn time!” He yells as he snatches the food from you.
“Sorry for taking so long,” you say with a sheepish smile, “someone reorganized the kitchen and I got a little mixed up.”
Handing him the lavender yukata, you barely had enough time to turn around before he started throwing his clothes at you. You catch the slightest glimpse of his body in the commotion, and couldn’t help but notice the smell of sweat on his uniform and felt your face get hot.
You cough to get his attention.
“As the resident doctor, I’m recommending that you refrain from Demon Slayer work for at least two months while your wounds and bones heal. Be sure to take deep breaths daily in spite of your ribs so you don’t get a lung infection. Once you’re strong enough to move around you’re welcome to relocate to the Butterfly Estate, but you should stay here for the time being. I know several blends of tea that can help with pain management if you want. Otherwise it’s just plenty of rest and waiting for your body to do its thing.”
“Fucking bullshit,” he grumbled as he shoveled food into his mouth, “I don’t need any tea and I don't need you to remind me to breathe.”
“Of course. This isn’t your first time Shinazugawa, I know you know what to expect. Just let yourself heal properly so you can go back to protecting us.”
He stays silent, his intense purple eyes gazing at you.
You mulled over whether to tell him he had rice on his face, but decided against it.
“I’ll let you get some rest, then. I’ll return tomorrow with breakfast and to check on your wounds.”
You gave a small bow and gathered his things before turning down the hallway. The old lady liked to handle the laundry and did the best clothes stitching so you folded and set them aside for her to handle when she woke.
The time leading to his return to training was rhythmic and consistent.
You bring him meals 3 times a day, freshen his clothes and bedding, assess and redress his wounds, and keep him company for dinner.
At least for the first week or so.
Then some other Demon Slayers showed up who needed a place to stay for a few nights. They weren’t grievously injured, but splitting your time between more people meant less time for the foul tempered Wind Pillar.
The Hashira are top tier Demon Slayers but you want everyone to feel as though their presence is valued when staying at the Wisteria House. No favorites.
With your hands full literally and figuratively, you send one of your nursing apprentices to redress his wounds...forgetting that most people aren’t accustomed to dealing with him.
Not long later, she comes back with tears streaming down her face and you feel a twinge of guilt in your gut and sighed. You had forgotten to warn her about his attitude.
“He kept yelling at me for shaking but then I’d shake more because he was yelling and I-”
You put your hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry I put you in that position,” you said emphatically “go ahead and take some time for yourself, come back when you feel better.”
After some serious coaxing and assuring that no, she wont be punished for taking time off, she bowed, said her thanks, and shuffled to her room as quickly as she could. You needed as many extra hands as you could get, with one person down that puts more on your plate.
Still.
You’d like to go give Shinazugawa a piece of your mind right now. Even with the extra workload, you still managed to have dinner with him in the evenings. Later tonight, after dinner perhaps.
“By the way...my apprentice came to me with tears in her eyes after helping you today. Care to explain, Shinazugawa?” you said calmly as you take his empty dishes and place them on the nightstand next to his bed.
His face contorts in irritation but he doesn't look at you. “She wouldn’t stop bumping my ribs and could barely keep her fucking hands steady! She has no business nursing for the Demon Slayers if she can’t handle the basics! What are you even teaching her?!”
You feel anger rise in your chest at his accusations. He’s second guessing my teaching on top of disrespecting one of my apprentices? She’s LEARNING.
You stand up and look down at him firmly, urging yourself to stay calm so as not to stoop to his level but you can’t hold your tongue in good conscience.
“In all my years working at this Wisteria House, I can wholeheartedly say that I’ve never encountered a patient as stubborn and rude as you. You may be right that nursing for the Demon Slayers takes a certain kind of person, but I don’t waste my time on hopeless causes. She has what it takes. It’s you who made her cry today, not your wounds. She may have more learning to do, but I’ve only ever seen her be competent, resourceful, and reliable. It’s reasonable for her to get nervous. You are a Hashira, and a brash one at that. She doesn’t deserve your anger. Save it for the demons, Shinazugawa. Not the people taking time out of their day to help you.”
Your heart is racing and your whole body feels hot - then you realize how sweaty your palms and pits are. You were blinking back tears trying so hard to not let them fall. You hate this kind of confrontation - but you couldn’t let insults against your apprentice go unchallenged.
Surprisingly, he didn’t immediately retort with a rude comment. He almost seemed pensive.
...Suddenly your vision starts to get blurry. What’s going on?
Your face feels as though all the blood is starting to drain out and the blurry vision changes to encroaching black dots. Am I about to pass out?
You reach out for stability, hoping the wall was closer than it seemed.
But your hands hit only air and you fall to the ground, vision fading to black as you hear Sanemi shout your name.
You wake with a start and glance around, slightly bewildered and feeling a small delay between your brain and body. You start to take notice of your surroundings.
It’s dark...
Quiet...
I'm warm...
Am I laying on something soft?
Didn’t I hit the floor?
“Oi.”
Your head feels like it’s 1000 pounds, so you just barely turn your head to make eye contact with the Wind Pillar in the bed next to you.
“Ugh...what
...H-how long'was I…?”
“Just over a minute, much longer and you’d be in real danger. You fell on the floor after yelling at me.”
You notice a small bit of blood seeping through his bandages.
“Did...you...
Did you help me up…?”
He nods. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. If you have apprentices you need to delegate more so you don’t get overwhelmed.”
“Ohhhhh...s’yer my doctor now?” You say with a delirious yet still sarcastic smile.
“Don’t give me that shit you know it’s true. You need to rest. Stay in bed.”
You raise an eyebrow at his presumptuous attitude, but couldn’t help to feel as though getting out of bed would be a near impossible task right now.
“Fine.” You return your gaze to the dark ceiling and felt sleep approaching in steady strides.
This bed is so comfortable, the blanket so warm...
“S’nemi,” you slurred out but not in his direction.
“What?” He said shortly, barely registering that you said his name for the first time.
“You...owe her an‘pology…” - your last words as you drift off to sleep.
He didn’t reply, resolving to never fucking apologize for shit. You wouldn’t have known his response or lack thereof anyways, you were already out.
But he couldn’t help but pay close attention to your breaths. Making sure they were steady and consistent, that you weren’t in danger.
He fell asleep thinking about your anger. If you didn’t almost immediately pass out, you might have noticed the slight pink tinge on his cheeks. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like that, and your passion and support for your apprentice was admittedly endearing. His last conscious thought was looking forward to your next dinner together.
“Okay, Shinazugawa. It’s finally time. I’m approving you for l i g h t training. You’ve been healing steadily so I think it’s safe to take that step. We’ll be doing daily check ins on your wounds to ensure you’re not pushing yourself too much. I will pull you back in if I feel it’s necessary.”
“You enjoy having control, don’t you?” He said with a confrontational wide eyed smile.
“I enjoy having healthy, healed patients, Shinazugawa. I only enjoy control when it’s freely and enthusiastically given to me.”
“....” He paused, brain frozen at the implication of your statement.
You laughed with your whole chest, “Wow, I really rendered you speechless! That must be a first! Get outta here, go train. I know you’ve been itching for it.” You said with casual passivity as you turned to leave the medical bay. “I’ll be back around dinner if you’re still game.”
He gives a small nod, averting his eyes as you walk past him and into the hall.
He went on to spend as much time as he possibly could training while you handled your duties. The group of Demon Slayers had left the day before, so you were cleaning the rooms they stayed in and had to wash their linens and tidy things up.
By the time dinner rolled around, you were more than ready to sit down and eat. You carried two plates of curried rice to the medical bay and laughed at Sanemi’s scoff when you said he couldn’t eat until you were done examining him.
You stand over him while he leans back to give you an easier view.
Don’t let your gaze linger too long.
You had to urge yourself to not ogle him, especially when you stole glances of him training. He didn’t have his Demon Slayer outfit on, but his top was open all the same. Your mind was in a completely different place from your body as you wondered how strong he really is. Watching him train under the sun is something you could do all day.
Get a grip! He’s your patient! He’s a Hashira!
You returned to the moment. His wounds were closed and the stitches had been removed, but he had some bruising along his side though that made you tut. “I told you not to go too hard, Shinazugawa.”
“I’m not! We have different ideas of what pushing yourself means!”
You chuckle, “On that we can agree.” You pull his yukata back up over his shoulders then walk over to the food and bring it to his bed.
“I couldn’t help but notice you seem a bit tense, if you don’t mind me saying. I mean, you seem like a tense guy in general,” he glares at your casual jab with a mouthful of rice, “but if you need someone to help soothe and stretch out your muscles after training I’m happy to oblige. I have the necessary skills.”
This is something you usually offered to most people, especially when they have longer recovery times. Sanemi, however, wasn’t most people.
He pondered you for a moment.
Then swallowed his food.
“Uhm...yeah actually. That would...be helpful…”
You smile warmly at his almost demure response, but decided to not poke at him for it.
“Well, we can start after dinner is finished if you want. You went from zero to training for several hours today so I’m sure you’ll be feeling it tomorrow and the day after.”
He takes a moment, then nods and shovels more food in his mouth.
You do the same.
After the food was finished, you brought your dishes to the kitchen, then grabbed some camellia oil and returned to Sanemi in the medical bay. Usually the oil is a Southern region thing, but you trade your expert tea blends with one of the other Wisteria Houses for it.
He's sitting with his legs off the edge of the bed, taking a long drink of water. You lay the oil container down next to him and go over to wash your hands before starting.
As you scooch up behind him on the bed, you have a realization of the moment you’re in.
"I'm going to pull this down now," you announce, and he only nods in response.
You felt yourself get hot when you peel the yukata back to reveal his bare torso. He's covered in ragged scars back to front, and you get excited about having the chance to run your hands over them.
"I'll be applying the oil and working my way down your back first, then your shoulders and arms, and finally your neck. Do you have any sore spots I'm not already aware of?" He shakes his head no.
"Okay, I'll get started then."
You palm some of the oil and rub your hands together before placing them on his shoulders. For now you were focused on getting the oil on his skin and his muscles warmed up. Since he has wounds on his chest, you don't plan to work the front of him for now. Just his neck, shoulders, arms, and back.
Once the oil is spread everywhere you intend to touch, you push your palms into his back over the rhomboid major and minor muscles, and breathe clearly.
"Stay in sync with my breaths." You keep your hands in place until you're breathing with the same rhythm.
Every three breaths you slide your hands down just a bit more until you reach his hips. You have to be mindful of his healing ribs though, so you stay more towards the center of his back - on both sides so everything feels balanced.
You pass down his back in the same pattern two more times before perching up on your knees and moving to his shoulders. You apply firm pressure through your fingers as you move from his deltoids to his trapezius, digging in just enough to stop for a few breaths as you get to where the levator scapulae is.
"Your traps and delts are holding a lot of tension, I'm going to work them for a bit." Your hands slide gracefully over his muscles, repeating the same motions with increasing pressure until you feel the point you're working on give in.
"I've been trying to get that spot for so long," he groans out loud. You smile to yourself and keep going. You pass over his shoulder in the same pattern on the other side before moving down to his shoulder blades.
You find your rhythm the more you work his body, which in turn makes him relax into your touch. Neither of you are saying anything, so all you can hear is the sound of your breathing and the slick of the oil on his skin.
You’re doing all you can to not start singing praises to him, it’s not that kind of massage and yet...it kind of is? Your attraction to his physique is undeniable. You should stop.
But you can’t.
You move down his arms, feeling every scar along the way, dipping into his muscles as much as you can without it hurting your hands. You get the feeling he could take a lot, pain wise. You wonder if he enjoys it.
You scoot over to his side while you work his other arm and look up to catch a glance from him. One that makes your heart skip a beat. A half-lidded stare that says so much but is imperceptible at the same time. You feel yourself get flustered immediately, but don't want to rush the massage. So you lower your gaze to count the scars on his arms over and over until you're done.
You return to his back and once again give a long rub from bottom to top.
You work your way over his shoulders and up to the base of his skull a few times before sending one hand into his unruly hair while the other works his neck.
As soon as your attention turns to his scalp, he lets out a quiet sigh and gets noticeably relaxed. You massage his neck and scalp with the same rhythm, gripping his hair lightly on occasion. His vulnerability in this moment isn’t lost on you; he’s been leaning back into you slowly but surely since you started on his neck.
You adjust your body as much as you can but soon he’s laying on you too much for you to do anything. He rests his head on your shoulder and this position gives you a pristine view down his torso. You gaze down his body admiring every ripple and dip in his skin, wishing you could run your hands down it…
Your eyes get to his lower half and notice...
Is that...
“Huh?” Sanemi wakes suddenly, alarmed.
“You fell asleep,” you say, embarrassingly flustered, “you should lay down, it’s late and you clearly need rest.”
“Hmph.” He grunts. You notice how quickly he goes to cover his junk with a grip of the blanket.
“Goodnight, Sanemi.” You say as you blow out the last candle in the room and turn to leave.
“Hey,” he says through the dark.
“Yes?”
“...Thank you.”
“My pleasure, now get some rest and be sure to drink water.”
Epilogue
Sanemi suddenly wakes a couple hours after you left. Water. I need some fucking water…
He remembers the gourd you left for him and drinks it all in 10 seconds flat. Need more...
He stumbles into the hallway, his body still not entirely awake from how hard he was sleeping. The silence of the night is almost deafening, everyone is asleep and all the lights are out. He manages to find his way to the kitchen and fills the gourd back up.
And drinks it.
And fills it back up.
Once his thirst is satiated, he starts to wander back to the med bay, not noticing the wrong turn he made that happened to pass him by your room. As he approaches, he realizes where he's at and lightens his footsteps.
But then he hears something truly unexpected.
He froze in place.
It was the smallest moan emanating from your room. A blush exploded across his face as he realized he was listening to the sounds of you touching yourself...and you sound wet. Very wet.
He felt embarrassed and ashamed of not leaving immediately but he couldn’t help but imagine how you must look in that moment. He again remembered how you looked when you yelled at him, and felt his own body react to the stimuli he was receiving.
As much as he wants to listen to you finish, he decides to get past your room while you’re distracted. So he keeps moving forward as swiftly as he could...until he gets to a dead end. He cursed himself for not noticing where he was going, he knew your room is at the end of a hall but he got too flustered to think clearly.
So he has to walk by your room AGAIN. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice…
He once again walks within earshot of your heavy breaths, a small strained moan, and soaked pussy once again and tries to will himself to not hear you as he passes by.
Once he knew he was in the clear he all but runs back to the med bay and flies into his bed, face down. He feels his cock getting hard the more he thinks about how you sounded - how much he wished he could make you sound like that. As he grinds his hips into the mattress thinking about your hands all over him just a few hours ago, he looks over and notices that you left the camellia oil on his night stand.
He contemplated for a moment. Then sat up, reached over, and took his sweet time bringing himself to orgasm - all while thinking about you.