Chapter Text
Mitsuri tucked the flower behind Senjuro’s ear, a bright smile on her face as she nestled it against his hair. “There!” She ruffled his hair, and turned her grin to Kyojuro. “Isn’t that cute, Kyojuro? I should bring him flowers more often!”
Senjuro’s cheeks bled a soft red color as he ducked away from Mitsuri’s hand, and Kyojuro wondered if his clueless friend ever realized how flustered she made people, including his little brother.
But he merely chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, adorable, Mitsuri. I’m sure he loves it.” He leaned back, bracing his weight on the palms of his hands. “Did you bring any more?”
Mitsuri gasped and reached for her bag, digging through it to produce another deep red flower, reaching over to tuck it behind Senjuro’s other ear. “There we go! Gah! He’s so cute!” Mitsuri clung onto Senjuro’s arm, jostling him around. “I want a Senjuro!”
His brother shot Kyojuro a mildly exasperated look, but his soft smile was ever present. Senjuro never quite knew what to do with Mitsuri, but he enjoyed the woman’s company, and was always excited when she was able to come visit. He’d been very excited that they were able to come by the estate and visit before their joint mission.
“What’s been going on with you though, Senjuro?” Mitsuri asked, finally letting go of him. “Anything fun or interesting? Things going on with friends? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”
“Uh, no… nothing like that,” Senjuro said. “Mostly just things around the house, not anything different from the last time you were here.”
“Oh, that’s no fun!” Mitsuri patted his back with enough force Senjuro stumbled forward a step. “You should get out more, don’t you think, Kyojuro?” His friend turned her attention towards Kyojuro. “He needs some more friends! Have you ever thought about introducing him to some of the novice slayers? Several of them are pretty close to his age, aren’t they?”
If he completely believed Senjuro wouldn’t catch hell from their father for getting involved with more demon slayers, Kyojuro might have considered it. Because Mitsuri was right, and Senjuro needed more, deserved more, than to spend his days on the estate, cleaning and tidying, and dodging their father on his worse days. “Maybe, if Senjuro wants. Perhaps he could take a trip to the Butterfly Mansion and meet Shinobu’s apprentices.”
Senjuro gasped, his eyes lighting up. “Really?”
Kyojuro hummed, and wondered if it would be possible to take Senjuro to do something like that without their father knowing or realizing. Maybe… after all, Shinjuro didn’t pay much attention to either one of them anymore. So long as he didn’t come looking for Senjuro for a few days for some reason… “If you would like that, I’m sure we could figure something out.”
“Oh! Or the Kamados!” Mitsuri continued on. “And Hashibira and Agatsuma! Have you met them, Senjuro? They’re all a little odd, but—”
“I’ve met them, a few times,” Senjuro interrupted her rambling, knowing Mitsuri would go on and on if she were allowed to. “They seem nice. You work with them sometimes, don’t you, aniue?”
“Yes, I do.” Ever since their joint mission dealing with Lower Moon Enmu several years ago, Kyojuro always looked forward to ending up on missions with Kamado and his friends. “Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, you and Kamado would probably get along well…”
They were both so kind and honest and forthright.
Hm… perhaps Mitsuri was onto something. Perhaps Kyojuro should be better about making sure Senjuro had plenty of friends and was able to interact with others his own age when he wanted to.
“They would!” Mitsuri agreed, wrapping an arm around Senjuro’s shoulders and tugging him closer once again. “Oh! Do we want to go into town and find somewhere to eat? Me and Kyojuro don’t have to head out until the sun goes down, we have plenty of time.”
“Shouldn’t you sleep some before your mission though?” Senjuro asked. “I don’t want you to be tired because you were up all night after staying up all day just to spend time with me.”
“Nonsense.” Kyojuro got to his feet with a stretch. “How often do I get to see you? Let alone with Mitsuri?” Besides, it wasn’t like they weren’t used to going without sleep as Hashira. “She’s right! Why not go out to dinner? The three of us?”
“Well… if you’re sure,” Senjuro said as he ducked his head, clearly wanting to spend time with them, but as always, was worried about inconveniencing anyone, especially Kyojuro and any Hashira he happened to be with.
“I am sure.” Kyojuro walked down the steps of the porch. “Besides, you can’t let Mitsuri’s pretty flowers go to waste.” He brushed his fingers against the red petals as he passed by him. “Can you, Senjuro?”
Senjuro’s cheeks turned bright red. “An—Aniue!”
Kyojuro’s laughter boomed, joined by Mitsuri’s lilting, high laughter as the pair of them walked down the path, letting Senjuro catch up to them.
“I’ll leave him some more of them,” Mitsuri said as she elbowed Kyojuro in the ribs. “In a pretty vase and everything!”
Kyouro grinned, and while he didn’t necessarily enjoy teasing his brother, he could admit his apparent little crush on Mitsuri was amusing at times, so why not poke a little fun at it? “I’m sure he would love that, Mitsuri. Right, Sen…” He turned around to make sure his brother was following after them, but the words died in his throat. “Senjuro?”
Senjuro’s face had gone from bright red, to deathly pale, his pallor washing out in an instant. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes rolled back, his body crumpling and collapsing to the ground.
“Senjuro!” Kyojuro lunged to try and catch him, but his fingers barely grazed him, and he hit the ground with a dull thud.
“Oh my gods!” Mitsuri gasped.
“Hey! Senjuro!” Kyojuro dropped to his knees, scooping his brother up and lightly slapping his face. “Senjuro! Senjuro!”
“He’ll be fine…” Shinjuro said from his place leaned against the door. “Go on your damn mission and leave him be.”
Kyojuro bit back a sigh, resisting the urge to glare at his father. As the years had gone on, and Senjuro suffered more and more at his hand, Kyojuro had grown less tolerant of the man, despite still wanting the best for him. “He passed out, Father. That’s not normal. And Mitsuri said she could handle it without me.” He trusted his fellow Hashira to know something like that, and he was certainly not leaving his brother here until a doctor came to check on him.
Shinjuro scoffed and walked back down the hallway, and honestly Kyojuro was surprised he came to check on them at all.
But his father wasn’t something he had the mental energy to dwell on at the moment. While he’d gotten Senjuro inside, Mitsuri had rushed off to find a doctor and send him to the estate, before promising she’d handle the mission herself.
Kyojuro just didn’t understand! Senjuro had been fine! He could read his brother like a book, and if he’d been feeling ill at all, he would have noticed. He’d just passed out, and hadn’t woken up since then, despite Kyojuro’s best efforts.
He tried not to jump to the worst possible conclusions, but how could this be anything good…? Anything normal?
But no, Senjuro just had a mild illness. He would speak with a doctor, or worse case scenario, Shinobu, and Senjuro would receive whatever treatment or medicine he needed, and he would be fine.
Yes, he would be fine.
“Are you having difficulty breathing?” Shinobu asked.
After a second of hesitation, Senjuro slowly shook his head.
Shinobu narrowed her eyes. “I need you to be truthful, Senjuro. I cannot accurately help you or diagnose you if you lie to me about your symptoms.”
“I—” He squeezed his eyes shut, and sucked in a sharp breath. “Not all the time, but… but sometimes my chest feels tight, and if I get really active, it’s worse.”
“This has been going on for a while, hasn’t it?” Shinobu had suspected that as soon as Mitsuri and Kyojuro had asked her to come treat the boy. Passing out due to medical afflictions generally wasn’t something that happened randomly, unless it had something to do with an extended illness.
Senjuro’s gaze shot towards Kyojuro, something akin to shame on his face. “Yes…”
“Senjuro!” Kyojuro exclaimed, already walking closer to the bed Senjuro lay in. “How come you’ve never said anything? If you were ill—”
Shinobu raised her hand to cut him off. “Not important right this second, Kyojuro. You two can discuss that after I’m done.”
“But—”
“After I’m done,” she said with a fierce glare towards her friend, before turning back to Senjuro, letting her soft smile return. “Okay, was that the first time you’ve passed out? How were you feeling before that happened?”
“Yes, that was the first time I… did that,” Senjuro said with a small nod. “Um, I got dizzy? And my head felt hot, but that—that’s happened a few times before, and it always goes away in a few minutes, so I thought—I thought it would be fine.”
There was a chance the dizziness could be linked to the respiratory issues, but Shinobu was not hopeful. “Right. I’m going to take some blood from you, okay, Senjuro? I have… suspicions, but I’d like to confirm them.”
“That’s okay.” He shuffled, disentangling his arm from the blankets and holding it out for her. “But I promise I’m fine.”
Shinobu’s smile fell as she met the boy’s eyes, and found she did not want to play this game with him. “You’re not.”
“Shinobu—!” Kyojuro began.
“We will talk later,” she promised him. “After I’ve looked at the blood samples.” She had her suspicions based on the Rengoku's family history, and based on what the previous doctors who had examined Senjuro had said, before ultimately being unable to diagnose him, resulting in Kyojuro and Mitsuri calling her in for this examination, but she held onto the small sliver of hope that she was wrong, for both Senjuro and Kyojuro’s sakes, and she wouldn’t even voice the possibility of her theory until it was proven true.
No need to worry them, just in case she was wrong and this was something treatable, even if it wasn’t by most doctors or healers.
Shinobu reached for her bag, rifling around for her syringes, and prayed to the gods that she was wrong.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Kyojuro asked.
“I… I don’t really feel sick,” Senjuro protested. “At least, not all the time…” He’d had his bad days over the past few weeks, that was for sure, but it always went away, and he didn’t want to bother his brother with something he ultimately could do nothing about. Because knowing Kyojuro, he’d take a leave from missions just to come care for him, and Senjuro didn’t want that.
Certainly not after Kyojuro had finally, finally gotten himself back to where he was before Upper Moon Three’s attack. No more extended breaks from missions due to those horrific injuries, and Senjuro didn’t want to be the reason Kyojuro took time off from something as important as killing demons again. Not when he’d been so thrilled to finally go back to it full time.
“Not all the time, what does that mean?” Kyojuro asked, leaning closer.
“It—Well—” Senjuro clutched handfuls of the blankets, and fought the urge to turn away from his brother’s intense stare. “Some days I feel great, and some days I feel bad. That’s all.”
“You shouldn’t feel bad at all! I could have asked Shinobu to come sooner, or at least taken some time off to take care of you! Because gods know Father won’t… Resting probably would have done you some good!”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to take time off for me! I don’t want to be the reason you have to do that! Definitely not after… you know…” Thankfully most of the scars from Upper Moon Three’s attacks were always hidden beneath Kyojuro’s clothes, but Senjuro found himself staring at the patch covering where his eye used to be.
Kyojuro shook his head. “I would not mind if it were for you, and after all… the Corps and Hashira are used to operating without me at this point.”
“But I don’t want to be the reason that has to happen again!” Didn’t Kyojuro understand that? Senjuro had never been worth much, and at the least, he wanted to be good enough that he didn’t keep demon slayers from doing their jobs, keep Kyojuro stifled here, in their miserable home with their loathsome father. “You’ll see,” he promised. “I’m fine, and Kocho will tell us that when she’s done. And none of this will matter anyways.”
Through just about anything, Shinobu could keep a smile on her face. Expressions were easily trained, through any emotion, so if she wanted to smile at any given time, she could. She kept that small, strange smile on her face most of the time.
So she knew Kyojuro already knew something was horribly wrong when she came to him with a neutral expression. She could have tried placating him with a smile, but that felt unnecessarily cruel. Her friend deserved more than a detatched physician right now, despite how much Shinobu hated these types of situations. “Would you like me to tell you first, or tell you both together?”
“Will he be okay?” Kyojuro demanded as he grabbed Shinobu’s shoulders, rather than answering her question.
“Kyojuro…” Shinobu grabbed his wrist. “This… This isn’t a disease I have much knowledge of, that anyone has much knowledge of, and—”
His grip tightened. “But you can fix him?”
“I can treat potential symptoms, and do my best to make him more comfortable, but—”
Kyojuro’s eye widened as he reeled back, a soft, pathetic noise working its way out of his throat.
“I’m sorry, but…” She took a deep breath. “Based on what you’ve told me about the sickness your mother had, and what I learned from Senjuro’s blood, I believe he inherited this illness from her. Of course, I can’t say that for sure, as obviously I never met or treated your mother, but that’s my theory. Essentially, his blood can’t carry enough oxygen to the rest of his body, so—”
“I don’t care!” he snapped. “I don’t care what the disease is! I care that you, or someone, can heal him!”
Shinobu raised her chin and squared her jaw. “I told you I would do what I could, Kyojuro. But no one will be able to cure him.”
“But my mother, she—” Kyojuro’s eye glossed over, and Shinobu’s stomach twisted itself in knots. She had hardly ever seen her friend cry. Even after his battle with Upper Moon Three, and his body had been ripped apart like paper, he’d so rarely allowed himself to cry.
“Shinobu, if what you’re saying is true, and this is the same thing my mother had, she—she died,” he choked.
“I know.” And that means it will kill him, too. She was kind enough not to say the second part aloud. Not that it really mattered though, because Kyojuro was smart enough to infer what she meant. “And I’m sorry.”
Kyojuro pressed his hand against his mouth as he backed away from her, eventually colliding with the wall and sliding down it, a muffled sob escaping him despite his best efforts.
“I will go tell Senjuro,” Shinobu said, deciding Kyojuro being there would only make it harder for both of them. “And go over potential treatments, and what he can do to prevent this from getting worse, to prolong his life.”
Kyojuro stared straight ahead, tears spilling over, and Shinobu sighed, unsure if he’d even processed what she had just said. Perhaps she should get Mitsuri. She would be far better at providing comfort for the Rengokus than Shinobu would be.
But… best to get this over with, and come up with a plan to make this illness more manageable for Senjuro.
“Don’t you even care!? How can you not care!?”
Senjuro pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead against them, doing his damnedest to take long, slow breaths. If he panicked, he might hyperventilate, and Shinobu said being careful of his breathing was very important right now.
This was… this was new, though.
Kyojuro had never yelled at their father before. Never, never, never. He was always so calm, so level-headed, even when Shinjuro was in one of his moods. Kyojuro always attempted to diffuse the situation, not escalate it. He was gentle with their father, not…
Now he was being so loud Senjuro could hear them from his bedroom. All because their father had merely scoffed when Shinobu told him Senjuro was… Well… that he was dying. He’d scoffed, and walked the other direction, like he couldn’t be bothered with such a thing.
It wasn’t that Senjuro had expected him to care. He’d given up on that, years ago. He’d been forced to reckon with the fact that their father did not love them when he’d never cared that Kyojuro had been hurt by Upper Moon Three. He’d never even gone to visit him at the Butterfly Mansion while he healed, and had openly told Kyojuro it would have been better if he’d died in that battle when he’d finally been able to come home.
And if Shinjuro didn’t care about Kyojuro dying, of course he wasn’t going to care about Senjuro dying.
But it still… It still—
“What the hell is wrong with you!?” Kyojuro’s pained shout echoed down the hallways of the house. “Or are you too drunk to understand what’s going on right now!?”
Senjuro sniffled, his eyes brimming with tears as he listened to them fight. Fight about what they should do with him.
Given everything that was going on, Senjuro wasn’t even sure how to process everything Shinobu had told him.
That he was dying…
Dying of the same thing that had taken their mother away from them, and turned their father into this.
Maybe that was why Kyojuro had finally snapped… Senjuro didn’t really remember anything about their mother, and by extension, what their father had been like when she was alive. He didn’t remember the surely agonizing days of watching Ruka wither away, no one able to do a thing to stop it.
But now…
Now that was him.
His family would crumble even further because of him.
Why couldn’t he get anything right…?
Kyojuro let his head thump against the wall, his hand coming up to rub at his face. He’d stopped crying, finally, but maybe he’d just run out of tears. After all, they hadn’t really stopped ever since Shinobu told him her diagnosis. Senjuro’s silent, confused shock hadn’t helped matters, and their father’s callous lack of care…
Why had he expected anything any different from him at this point? And Senjuro had likely heard them shouting…
He should go apologize. Senjuro always got nervous any time Kyojuro confronted their father, and he’d never shouted at him like that before, but…
Didn’t he understand? If they didn’t do something, Senjuro was going to go through the exact same thing their mother had! If they didn’t—
Do something. How pathetic was he? Do what? Kyojuro was no doctor, and the best doctor he knew had just told them there was no hope beyond tentative treatments to keep Senjuro alive a little longer, and as comfortable as possible.
What could he do?
His gaze drifted up towards the sky, staring at the twinkling stars. He’d come out to get some air after the argument with his father, but a couple hours had gone by by now. Senjuro was probably already asleep…
How awful of a brother was he for not going to comfort him after news like this?
He let his eye slip shut, and slumped against the side of the house. Tomorrow he would apologize to Senjuro first thing, make sure he got a good breakfast, and then go and actually speak with Shinobu since today he had… not really listened to anything she tried telling him. At first, he’d been hurt by her callousness, but he knew she’d only been trying to help in her own way.
Yes, he would get up, try and get some sleep, and tomorrow would try and contend with this in a… less emotional way.
He could do that, right? It… there was still hope. Shinobu was incredibly smart, surely she could find some way to fix this.
He was about to open his eye, and force himself up to go back inside, when a familiar presence washed over him, thick and smothering and menacing.
As if the day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“Akaza…” Kyojuro cracked his eye open, not even bothering to go for his sword lying a few feet away. “Tonight is not the night.”
Upper Moon Three lingered at the edge of the engawa, his stare as intense as ever, though his normal, crazed smile was not present tonight. “I heard what happened.”
“Oh? Of course you did. Must you continue to follow me around?” After two years of this, Akaza turning up randomly, at least once every month or so, Kyojuro had grown used to it, and realized his life, or anyone’s around him, was not in danger, but that did not mean that he liked these strange visits.
Akaza crept forward a step. “I could save him for you.”
Kyojuro lurched to his feet. “What…?”
“Your brother.” Akaza turned a palm up, as he regarded Kyojuro with the same intensity in his eyes he'd had during their initial fight. “If I turned him into a demon, I could save his life.”