Chapter Text
The hour of the group meeting has come.
Just like originally planned, Sanemi drove him and Giyuu to Umame Tasuke at noon.
…More or less.
They had been out of the house since 8 m. Tsutako texted Giyuu that she was on her way home at 7:45 am– much earlier than the men had planned for. So they jumped out of bed, threw on some random clothes from Giyuu’s dresser, brushed their teeth and rushed out of the condo. All in five minutes flat.
Of course, Giyuu informed Tsutako that he wouldn’t be home so she wouldn’t freak out again, although he lied to her that he was just going to the store, and then he was going to meet up with friends for lunch.
She believed him. She also didn’t question why he was going to the store at 8 in the morning, to which Giyuu was grateful.
Obviously, that’s not where he went, though. He went with Sanemi back to his place.
At 10 am, Obanai emerged from his room. It’s safe to say he was not expecting company, because he came out of his room still in his underwear. He quickly bolted back in to put some pants on after making eye contact with Giyuu on the couch.
Then he reemerged two minutes later.
“What’re ‘yal doing here?” Obanai had asked.
“I live here,” Sanemi responded.
“Gee, really?! I meant him, dumbass,”
After Obanai walked in, Giyuu and Sanemi didn’t bother to reposition. Sanemi was lying down with his head in Giyuu’s lap and his feet kicked up against the arm of the sofa– as comfortable as he could be at 10 am on a Sunday.
And honestly, Giyuu was comfortable, too. He just had the most peaceful, amazing night of his life.
Who knew sleepovers with your significant other were so fun?
Sanemi didn’t miss a beat. “We’re running from his sister.”
“Uh oh. Whad’ you guys do now?” Obanai scoffs.
“Nothing.”
They really hadn’t done anything. But to Sanemi, meeting Tsutako felt almost equivalent to what it feels like to meet your date's father for the first time. Unbearably intimidating. That’s what he told Giyuu at least.
Giyuu understood it. Sometimes even he’s scared of Tsutako.
Sanemi will get her approval, Giyuu’s confident of that… but her coming home to find that Sanemi never left her house would definitely knock a few points off.
“Then why are you running from her if you did nothing?,” Obanai said as he made his way to the kitchen, shuffling through the pantry with a level of aggression you'd only see in a snake who hasn't eaten since new years.
“..Uh–”
“Thought so,” Obanai shook his head.
Giyuu doesn’t say anything. He just laughs
—
“There they are!”
Mitsuri was waving from her seat at the small rectangular table the group had chosen. On either side of her was Shinobu and Obanai– he had left a little before Sanemi and Giyuu to pick the both of them up.
Sanemi takes a seat next to Obanai– and Giyuu sits next to him.
Giyuu was uneasy– in fact, he’s pretty sure a blind man could see the tension in his shoulders.
Of course Giyuu was tense. They were finally going to talk about that night– the night where he revealed to the group that he isn’t human, fought a swarm of violent mermaids… and almost lost his life.
Of course he was gonna be tense.
And to Giyuu’s surprise, Sanemi was tense, too– it was subtle, but it was there. Giyuu had no explanation for this. The man is almost never tense.
Sanemi takes a deep breath
“Where are Uzui and Rengoku?” He asks.
“Probably lost again–”
“They’re on their way,” Mitsuri answers. “There was an accident outside their apartment complex, and it created some traffic.”
Shinobu laughs through her nose. “Did they cause the accident?”
“They were the accident–”
“Obanai!” Mitsuri lightly smacks Obanai’s shoulder.
Giyuu’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and by the way everyone is suddenly looking at their own phones, he assumes it was from the group chat.
And he was right.
Tengen Uzui: we’re in the parking lot!!! 💪💪💪💪
Tengen Uzui: someone come get us im scared
Then Shinobu rises from her seat. And without a word, she exits the restaurant.
Silence.
Then Mitsuri releases a breath. Giyuu could tell she was trying to figure out what to say– or better yet, where to start.
Lucky for them all, Mitsuri’s really good at conversing. This was something he’s unfortunately had to learn first hand.
“Have you been here before, Tomioka?” she asks, and Giyuu’s stills. He didn’t expect all of the attention right away. Soon, sure. But not now.
“...uh– no. No, I haven’t.”
“You’re gonna love it! I come here all the time for their lunch specials,” Mitsuri bubbles.
“What do they serve here?” Giyuu asks.
This time, it’s Sanemi’s turn to go still– Giyuu could see it. And clearly, he isn’t the only one hesitating, because Mitsuri makes a face before answering– a face saying he’s not sure whether or not to be honest.
This doesn’t exactly reassure Giyuu.
“...Do you like beef?” She asks, smiling awkwardly. And Giyuu shrugs.
“I don’t eat it often. But I tolerate it.”
Sanemi puts his face in one of his hands– and the white haired man laughs softly when he sees Obanai do the same.
What they were laughing at, Giyuu doesn’t know.
He’s not sure if he wants to.
A booming presence enters the establishment. Then suddenly, a hand is on Giyuu’s shoulder and another on Sanemi’s.
“Heyyy guys! Don’t get up, don’t get up! Please. Stay seated.
“Nobody’s getting up–”
Tengen smacks Obanai’s shoulder on his way to the seat next to Giyuu, Kyojuro lightly tapping it as he follows behind.
“Iguro, old friend,” Tengen says as he takes his seat. “Glad to see you, too.”
“How’s everyone today?” Kyojuro asks from beside Tengen.
“Great!” Mitsuri responds first. “And you guys?”
“I’m doing awesome,” Tengen says. “Great idea inviting us here, Kanroji. I haven’t been here in forever.”
Kyojuro nods. “Yeah, me neither. Are they still doing lunch specials?”
“I think so!”
A waitress starts placing menus on the table in front of everyone, saying the typical greeting before hurrying off to another table.
The restaurant was busy. Must be a popular place.
Sanemi doesn’t pick up the menu.
“Do you already know what you’re getting?” Giyuu asks him as he picks up his own menu.
“Yeah. I only ever get the same thing.” His voice tapers slightly. And Giyuu can feel him eyeing him.
What’s with him?
He feels his eyes on him as he opens his menu. And reads the very first menu item.
…
Oh. That’s why he was eying him.
Giyuu feels his heart stutter a second, but he collects himself fast.
“Have you been here before, Tomioka?” Kyojuro asks from across the table.
Giyuu slowly shakes his head– eyes locked on the menu.
He’s trying to hide his horror. And it might be working on everyone else, but he knows Sanemi can see right through him. Of course he can.
Then, he reaches over and points to something on Giyuu’s menu.
“Look,” he says quietly. “This is the one I usually get. It’s really good.”
“...Okay,” Giyuu says. “...I trust your judgment.”
“That’s a bad idea,” Tengen giggles. “Rule number one: whatever Shinazugawa orders is probably the worst thing on the menu.”
“Everything here is the same, dipshit.”
Giyuu looks up from his menu. “I was unaware this part of the cow was something to be consumed,” he says to Sanemi.
Sanemi puts his face in his hand again.
“You’ve never had beef tongue before, Tomioka?!” Kyojuro asks, practically leaning across the table. “Oh my goodness you’re going to love it.”
“That reminds me!” Mitsuri adds, turning towards Giyuu. “I wanted to ask what kinds of food you do eat. That way when we go out next time, I can look for restaurants that have something you like.”
…Right.
Giyuu can’t be uncomfortable. He’s simply not allowed to– not after what happened. Not now that everyone knows.
But he doesn’t like that question. It wasn’t offensive– not in the slightest. But it only suggested what Giyuu already knew;
He’s picky, and everyone knows it. And the reason he’s picky, everyone also knows.
Sanemi teases him about it all of the time, but that’s just how he is. He teases– it’s how he loves. He has no malicious intent behind it.
This felt different.
Giyuu quickly begins shaking his head.
“That’s okay. I will eat anything, so please don’t worry about that.”
He hates being reminded of his differences from them. He doesn’t blame Mitsuri– in fact, he doesn’t blame anyone. They’re trying to be as accommodating as possible.
Giyuu doesn’t want to be accommodated.
“Well what’s your favorite food?” Mitsuri asks. “So I can know if there’s ever a special occasion.”
He cocks his head. And Sanemi perks up from beside him– to what reason, Giyuu doesn’t know.
The white haired man turns to Giyuu, eyes alive with curiosity. “Have you ever had a birthday party before?”
“Shinazugawa! You ruined it!!”
A birthday party? Was that what Mitsuri was suggesting?
Giyuu sort of hopes not.
“I have,” he answers.
“When’s your birthday, Tomioka?” Shinobu asks.
…
…Deep breath.
It’s only going to get worse from here. He knew he’d be answering many questions, and he was prepared for it…
…Mostly.
It’s okay. Everyone’s nice. They’re just being friendly. They definitely don’t see him differently now that they know. They’re just making conversation.
Giyuu was having to try really hard to convince himself.
“Feruary 8th,”
“Oh so it has already passed! Did you have a 21st birthday party?” Mitsuri asks.
That’s a new one.
“..Uh, no. I haven’t had a birthday party since I was fourteen.”
Giyuu ignores the way he sees Sanemi’s shoulders rise. He’ll never get used to the other man’s attention to detail. It’s almost scary.
He also tends to put the pieces together quicker than anyone he’s ever known.
“Why not?!” Kyojuro asks, setting his menu down to join the conversation.
Obanai scoffs, “Look who you’re talking to–”
“Not too fucking much now,” Sanemi warns, glaring at Obanai next to him.
Now it’s Giyuu’s turn to put his face in his hand.
To his dismay, he’s never had so many people this interested in what he had to say before. The attention was uncomfortable.
He’s also not used to such positive feedback.
“What did birthday parties look like for you, Tomioka?” Shinobu asks.
Now how the hell is he supposed to answer that without sounding like an arrogant prick? ‘Oh, nothing too crazy. Just the entire kingdom celebrates you for twenty-four straight hours, sometimes more. Super chill and humble.’
He hated it then, and he hates it now.
“...pure chaos,” he mumbles, chills running down his spine.
He must be making quite the face, because nobody responds.
Except for Sanemi. He laughs out loud.
“...that bad?” Mitsuri asks quietly. She sounds distraught.
Wow.
He must really be making a face.
The waitress finally returns, and not a moment too soon. Giyuu makes an internal note to thank her later for saving him from the conversation. As grateful as he is for his new friends, he really wants to get this over with.
“Are you guys ready to order?” She asks, sweetly. And the group immediately moves on from the birthday parties.
“Yes!”
“Yup.”
The waitress starts with Sanemi.
“I’ll do the six slice meal please,” he says, sliding his menu towards the edge of the table. He never did look at that menu.
The waitress nods, jotting it down before turning to the others. “And for you?”
“I’ll do the lunch special!” Mitsuri says excitedly. “Extra rice please.”
“Same here,” Kyojuro adds without hesitation.
Tengen leans back in his chair. “Make mine double. I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Obanai says.
“And yet I’ve still got a six pack. Write that down, too.”
The waitress snorts softly as she writes.
“I’ll do the five slice,” Obanai says, waving his hand.
“Four slice for me, please,” Shinobu says.
All of it is fast. Easy. Thoughtless. But the waitress turns to Giyuu– and just like that, the peace is gone.
“For you?” she asks. And Giyuu goes still.
The menu is still open in his hands, but he hasn’t turned the page.
Then slowly, he leans in towards Sanemi.
“What did you say was good again?” he asks.
Sanemi leans in, too. “Why don’t you just get what I got? And if you don’t like it, give it to me.”
“But you’ll like it. I promise.” Mitsuri cuts in
She sounds very sure.
“...I’ll–” His voice catches, and he clears his throat. “I’ll have what he got,” he says to the waitress, who nods quickly as she writes it down.
And just like that, she’s gone. Leaving the group sitting there in silence.
A very, very heavy silence. A silence that’s no doubt about to be filled with the most uncomfortable discussion of Giyuu’s life. And there have been many of those.
Tengen breaks the silence first. It’s usually him anyway.
“So, I think we’ve all been wondering lately…” he starts. And Giyuu tightens his jaw.
Here it comes.
The dreaded conversation where they talk about that night. And about how he’s not human and how he almost died and how they probably almost died too but he doesn’t remember. And he’s going to have to explain to them everything because they deserve to know. But he really doesn’t want to.
But he has to.
So he takes a deep breath– probably not the first deep breath he’ll be taking this afternoon.
And he braces himself.
Tengen turns to Sanemi.
A beat.
“...Are you and Tomioka together?”
…
…Still intrusive.
But less sensitive.
Giyuu releases a breath.
Then, he looks at Sanemi. The question was directed towards him, so he’ll let him answer. Although, he looks like a deer caught in headlights– like he just got busted doing something illegal.
It’s not like they haven’t been obvious.
He hesitates.
Then he opens his mouth to speak.
“...Yes–”
“Ahhh! I knew it!! Didn’t I, Obanai!” Mitsuri cuts Sanemi off. “I knew since the fair! Remember, Obanai? I told you!!”
She’s shaking Obanai’s arm– he doesn’t look the least bit shocked.
Of course not. Especially not after this morning.
“I remember, Mitsuri.”
“Eh, I figured it out at karaoke.” Kyojuro leans back, arms crossed. “Saw them cuddling when we went to get napkins.”
“What–!?”
“Well I figured it out before karaoke!” Obanai challenges. “I’ve known since they met!”
Giyuu looks back and forth between everyone– speechless.
He knew they weren’t great at hiding it, but he didn’t think they were that bad. And based on Sanemi’s posture, clearly he didn’t think so either.
But nonetheless, here they are.
“Am I the only person who didn’t know?!” Tengen shouts, hands over his chest. “Kocho?!”
He turns to Shinobu– and her expression gives it all away.
She giggles. “Even Kanae figured it out.”
“Yeah, you’re just a dumbass, Uzui.” Obanai scoffs.
People in the restaurant are starting to look at them– probably because Mitsuri is practically flying out of her seat. Giyuu covers his face with his hands.
“How did all of you know?!” Sanemi demands.
“I didn’t–!”
“Seriously, man?” Kyojuro laughs. “I’ve never seen you look at any of us the way you look at him.”
That shuts Sanemi up– he throws his head back with a groan.
Giyuu still hasn’t said anything. What can he say?
Clearly Sanemi’s friends were way sharper than he gave them credit for. Even Shinobu’s sister figured it out? How obvious were they?
“I’m just glad this has finally been established,” Shinobu laughs. “Watching you two act like friends at the fair was excruciating.”
Tengen interrupts, fists in his hair. “They weren’t friends at the fair?!”
“Yes, Tengen my friend,” Kyojuro pats him on the back. “Try and keep up.”
—
Shinobu made the first move. Although, it was nowhere near the move Sanemi was expecting. But he wasn’t complaining.
He had sensed Giyuu’s tension since they got in the car to drive to this place, and his tension only made him tense– like some weird E.T. shit. Everytime Giyuu freaks out, Sanemi does, too.
He also knew that if anyone was going to ease into the conversation the most comfortably, it would be Shinobu, so he’s eternally grateful that it was her to break the ice. And there’s a very high chance Giyuu was, too.
“So when is the next fight?” She had asked, and Giyuu’s posture stiffened– clearly caught off guard by such a question.
Honestly, Sanemi was, too.
But he studied the man for a moment, watched as his eyes shifted between everyone at the table, and then back to Sanemi as if looking for validation in his shock. The validation was definitely received, and the shock was somewhat mutual.
Either way, that was the sentence that eased the group into the dreaded conversation: Shinobu asking when the next fight was.
So… they talk about the next fight.
“I say we rent three more harpoons, a bunch of fishing nets, and a boat twice the size!” Tengen suggests, throwing his arms out dramatically.
“The nets won’t work. They have claws, remember?” Shinobu says.
Giyuu had gotten over his shock fast, and replaced it with ease. Good, because Sanemi was really freaking worried.
“Are you guys really sticking with me?” he asks, hands grasped tightly around each other as he props his elbows on the table. The tension in his shoulder is gone, and the aura radiating from him is no longer giving the anxious vibes it had been when they entered the restaurant.
He sounds relieved, and somewhat eager. So Sanemi leans back in his chair and lets the conversation carry itself.
“Hell yeah we’re sticking with you! We wanna go kill those mermaid bastards!” Tengen mimics shooting something distant with his fingers, and Kyojuro nods aggressively beside him.
“Yeah, Tomioka. Especially after what they did to you and your sister,” Mitsuri says. Surprisingly, Obanai nods in agreement. “You guys never deserved this level of torment, and we want to help you end it.”
Now the shock is back– Giyuu’s blue eyes widen and he leans his head back at the fact. Sanemi slings his arm over the head rest of Giyuu’s chair, and rubs his thumb gently into his shoulder– as if to confirm the validity of their friend’s claims.
Giyuu turns to Sanemi– the white haired man just smiles at him.
He looks at him closely, almost asking Sanemi if he’s in, too.
Of course he is. He’s been in since he met him.
Sanemi squeezes Giyuu’s shoulder– gazing into blue, curious eyes. Those same eyes he would do absolutely anything just to see shine again.
“...So what’s our next move, captain?” he says. And Giyuu smiles.
The first genuine smile he’s seen from him today.
Because now Sanemi’s sure of it: Giyuu knows everyone is on his side. And they always have been.
He holds Sanemi’s gaze just a second longer– thanking him silently. And Sanemi lets his hand now rest loosely over Giyuu’s shoulder– removing the pressure, but letting him know he’s there. And he’s not backing down.
Slowly, Giyuu brings his hand up, and laces his fingers with the ones on his shoulder, holding him there.
Then, he disconnects their eyes.
“Okay, guys,” he says, turning to face the group. “I have a plan.”
—
By the time their food finally arrives, everyone is practically bouncing in their seat.
Even Giyuu’s getting excited, which has quite literally never been seen before.
“Okay, okay. Two weeks. That gives us more than enough time to prepare,” Sanemi recites as the waitress places a plate down in front of him.
“We’ll be more prepared this time,” Giyuu adds, and everyone nods in agreement.
Sanemi couldn’t have felt more relieved. Giyuu was relaxed, the group was excited, and the food was smelling heavenly. Things are seriously starting to turn around.
“This is going to be insane,” Kyojuro exclaims, his own plate finding its way in front of him. “Now that I actually know what we’re getting into, I’m wayyy more excited.”
“This is going to be awesome,” Tengen adds.
Shinobu clears her throat, getting everyone’s attention. Even Giyuu and Sanemi.
“I’m glad you guys are excited,” she says, directed towards the beefy men to her right. “But don’t forget our main goal.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tengen says, stabbing his chopsticks into his meal. “Kill the mermaids, don’t die. It’ll be light work, just watch.”
Sanemi sees Giyuu exhale beside him. The waitress had placed his food in front of him a while ago, and the dark haired man was fiddling with the chopsticks between his fingers.
He had a small smile on his face– it looked really good on him.
The table was chattering about the previous discussion– Mitsuri was already planning to buy matching shirts. Even Obanai had lightened up, and seemed abnormally enthusiastic about buying enough harpoon canons for everyone.
Sanemi leans in, just close enough next to Giyuu that he can share his gaze. He watches as Giyuu confidently tries to pick up a slice of the meat– his chop stick skills have started to improve. They still sucked, but they were better.
The dark haired man didn’t seem bothered by Sanemi’s uncomfortable closeness– almost as if he was used to it. He impales a piece of beef with his chop sticks– not exactly how they’re meant to be used, but it works– and slowly brings the food to his mouth.
He’ll like it. Sanemi’s sure.
But he still wanted to observe his reaction. Giyuu hasn’t been this willing to try a new food since McDonalds, and it would be a lie to say that experience was a success.
But the way he was moving, the way he was focused on his utensils, like he had no fear at all. Like he wanted to try the food and he wanted to like it.
So Sanemi watches as he takes a bite– no hesitancy at all.
He hadn’t even bothered to pick up his own chopsticks.
He studies Giyuu’s expression- his eyes, his mouth– as he chews. Then swallows. And Sanemi swears on his soul he sees Giyuu’s eyebrows twitch.
“You like it?” he asks, almost confident he already knows the answer. Chin propped in his hand which rests above his elbow, his own food steaming in his peripherals.
Then Giyuu turns to him, slowly. And he nods his head.
“It’s really good,” Eyes slightly widened, chopsticks still in hand.
And Sanemi smirks. Then, he turns to his own food.
“Told ya,”.
Somewhere between the arguing, the planning, and Tengen insisting he should be team captain, the tension finally disappears
—
Giyuu cleared his plate before Sanemi, earning a laugh from the other man.
So he laughed, too.
He let himself breathe.
The plan was in motion. They didn’t talk about the dreadful night like Giyuu had anticipated– they only talked about the future– another reminder that Giyuu needs to work on his obsession with the traumatic past.
Let go of the past.
Here, right now, the group was immersively chatting about exterminating Giyuu and his sister’s life-time foe. And none of them were judgemental, scared, or intrusive about the situation in the slightest– like this was normal for them.
Like this wasn’t their first time scheming for battle.
The last fight was messy because they were under prepared. The group didn’t know what was going on, Giyuu was consumed with guilt, and the Ondari outsmarted them.
They’re turning the tables now.
And they’re putting an end to this once and for all.
“Damn! Tomioka hated his food!” Kyojuro points and laughs. And everyone turns to look.
But for the first time, Giyuu wasn’t bothered by the attention.
For the first time, he felt like he belonged in the group– and that he could join the jokes. Make them, even. He didn’t feel outcasted.
“Looks like you’re not getting any scraps, Sanemi,” Obanai remarks.
“Neither are you,” Sanemi says, pointing to his friend’s plate. “In fact, your girlfriend is actively pilfering your food right now.”
“Yo–!” Obanai jerks his head towards Mitsuri, who was giggling between grabbing Obanai’s food with her chopsticks. He doesn’t move though, he lets her take it.
It’s all so lively. It’s all so human.
Giyuu looks over at Sanemi, who was taking a bite out of his last slice of beef.
At Tegen who’s now trying to steal some meat off of Shinobu’s plate.
Shinobu, who’s trying– and failing– to push his giant arm away.
Kyojuro, who’s laughing at the whole interaction.
It’s all so human.
And Giyuu has never felt so content.
“Yo, guys,” Kyojuro says in between previous laughter. “Next week is karaoke. We still doing that?”
Tengen pauses his antics, but doesn’t remove his chop sticks from Shinobu’s plate as she desperately tries to fight him away. “Why don’t we do karaoke at our place?” he says. “I’ll buy a bunch of alcohol and we can sing all night and play Super Smash Bros.”
“Oh em gee! Great idea, Uzui!” Mitsuri claps her hands. “It can be like our last little hang out before the summer!”
That’s right. School’s almost over. In fact, they planned the fight to be the Sunday after finals: the first weekend of summer. After then, everyone will likely be going home to visit family– Giyuu knows that’s what Sanemi’s plan was.
Hopefully everything goes according to plan, and the fight goes as smoothly as they anticipate. But Giyuu knows never to get his hopes up too much– especially not when dealing with Ondari. However, if everything goes right, he will never have to worry about those fish bastards ever again.
If everything goes right.
He shakes his head slightly.
It has to go right. And it will. They have the upper advantage this time.
Sanemi’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts.
“Are you goons seriously not worried about studying that weekend?” he laughs, almost appalled. “Finals will start that Monday. I don’t want a hangover–”
“Then don’t drink, doofus!” Tengen fires. “You’re, like, the only one who cares about school anymore!”
“I can make a mean virgin daiquiri,” Shinobu says. “I’m not planning on getting wasted, either. Don’t worry Shinazugawa.” She then shoots Tengen and Kyojuro a look. “Some of us actually have hard majors.”
Giyuu swears he sees the two men flinch when she speaks. The amount of subtle respect they have for her is insane– and also really badass.
He takes it back, Shinobu doesn’t scare him.
She’s cool as hell.
“So Uzui and Rengoku’s on Friday night then?” Obanai asks. Mitsuri had picked off the rest of his food– he didn’t seem bothered at all.
“Yes!” The pink head girl squeals. “We can karaoke all night, just us! And just an FYI, you’re all going down. I take Smash Bros very seriously.”
Giyuu moves in closer to Sanemi, who’s leaning back with one arm over the back of Giyuu’s chair, fiddling with the blue eyed man’s hair. Guess they’re really not hiding anymore.
“What’s Smash Bros?” he whispers, earning an amused chuckle out of the other man. Sanemi looks down at him, and Giyuu swears he sees something shift in the man’s gaze. Something merciless.
“...A virtual bloodbath,” is all he says. And Giyuu nods his head back like he understands.
He doesn’t.
But it sounds interesting. Almost competitive.
That’s something he can get behind.
Suddenly, the waitress appears behind Tengen. The poor girl looks frazzled– her hair frizzing out of the once neat braid Giyuu remembers from when she took their orders. Must be a really busy lunch rush.
She straightens her posture. “Are you guys ready for me to clean your plates?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” Shinobu says, stacking her plate and utensils on top of Tengen’s.
“Okay, perfect,” the waitress smiles– still putting up the professional customer-friendly state despite her obvious discombobulation. “Will the checks be together or separate?”
“All of us are separate except those two goons over there,” Tengen points to Obanai and Mitsuri with two fingers. Then his gaze flickers to Sanemi and Giyuu, and he slowly– sneakily– drifts his fingers in their direction.
A hand finds sanction on Giyuu’s shoulder.
“I’m covering him,” Sanemi says. Discrete enough so that the waitress is left to use her imagination, but obvious enough that it makes Giyuu’s heart flutter slightly.
He turns to meet Sanemi’s eyes. “You sure–?”
“Duh.”
Then Sanemi nods to the waitress, who finishes collecting everyone's plates and scurries off.
Giyuu tilts his head “Let me pay next time.” Fully not expecting Sanemi to say the words he proceeds to say next.
But low and behold, the man is ruthless, because he leans in to whisper something in Giyuu’s ear– so quietly that the dark haired man could barely even hear it.
“You already paid last night.”
Giyuu chokes on nothing.
Then, he kicks Sanemi’s shin from under the table.
The white haired man just laughs as he leans back in his chair, arm still slung over Giyuu’s shoulder.
And Giyuu tries his absolute hardest to not let the red creep up behind his ears.
…but he doesn’t pull away.
—
Three days later, the Ondari sunk two ships.
Not one– two.
And worse yet, the boats were found not even two miles off Japan’s coast.
Giyuu’s blood ran cold when his vision caught the small television in the dining center. The words on the screen were so small– so irrelevant to anyone viewing. But Giyuu noticed. Everyone at the table noticed.
It was Wednesday afternoon, and everyone had a small break before their next class. Giyuu, Sanemi, Obanai, and Mitsuri met up at the dining center for lunch, neither of them having any intention whatsoever to even talk about the Ondari, let alone think about them.
But there it was– the treacherous words Giyuu never thought he would read again so soon:
Motor yacht found detonated at sea floor two days after commercial fishing accident…
…No survivors recovered…
Giyuu wasn’t the only one at the table looking at the TV– it was obvious by the way Sanemi swore under his breath.
No one else in the dining center was paying any attention to the news channel. Why would they?
But this was huge for Giyuu and the group.
Not only had the Ondari attacked more Japanese ships, but they’ve been attacking fishing boats. Two days ago– Giyuu didn’t even know. But they attacked a group of commercial fishermen. They’ve been moving behind the scenes– and they’re only getting more ruthless.
Giyuu clenches his jaw, eyes studying the screen on the distant wall– reading over the headline multiple times, as if perhaps he read it wrong. Sanemi, Obanai, and Mitsuri were also looking– just as shocked, just as silent.
Giyuu squeezes his eyes shut, leaning his head back a little. What can they do? They planned to ambush the Ondari in ten days– ten days where more innocent people could be murdered in cold blood. But how are they supposed to wait that long? How are they supposed to let more people be killed?
He opens his eyes, and turns back towards his friends– all of them looked defeated.
“...Should we move the mission up?” he asks– his mind already semi-made up.
There’s a silence, like they're all thinking.
Then, Obanai shakes his head. “..No.”
“...Why–?”
“They’re gathering off the coast,” he says, arms crossed over his chest. He looks serious– Giyuu’s never seen the man look so involved.
“So?” Sanemi says. Mitsuri’s looking between them both– speechless.
“So,” Obanai continues, “..that means the hive’s coming to us.”
Silence. Mostly because everyone knows what Obanai’s getting at, and neither of them like it.
He drops his head, looking up at them from hooded eyes. “They have all the proof they need to know Tomioka and his sister are in Japan. There’s no need for any of them to linger near Alaska anymore.”
“Obanai,” Mitsuri says, weary. “...are you suggesting–?”
“I’m suggesting we wait. Let them gather. All of them.
Wait. For all of them. The Japanese coast will turn into a boat graveyard if they let this happen. They can’t do that. Enough people have died.
Giyuu’s hands slam on the table, the plates rattling beneath them.
“And use innocent people as bait?” He says, voice still composed, but raised enough. “We can’t–”
“What choice do we have!?” Obanai snaps back. “If we attack them now, they’ll just keep coming.”
Another silence. Mitsuri’s using her fingers to cover her mouth, and Sanemi’s fists are balled on the table.
There’s a silence because everyone knows Obanai’s right. If they want this to end, they need to exterminate the hive. And if it means letting the Ondari come to them, then that’s what it’ll have to take.
Giyuu looks back at the television. The news channel is still playing, and the headline is still there in bright red– almost like it’s taunting him.
Let the Ondari come to Japan?
It was bad enough when the group ambushed them. What can they do when too many get too close?
Giyuu’s fists clench over the head of his chair, knuckles turning white.
This wasn’t the plan.
Sanemi breaks the silence first.
“...what makes you so sure we can take them all?” he says through clenched teeth. “What makes you so sure…”
His voice cracks, and he brings his elbows in closer, sliding them along the hard table.
“…that Giyuu can take them all??”
Because Sanemi knows he can’t.
Giyuu knows it, too. He couldn’t even handle a pod of scouts. They expected this next mission to go no differently, although the plan they constructed gave them a large advantage.
An advantage over a pod. Not over the whole tribe.
“He won’t be alone down there,” Obanai nods his head towards Giyuu across the table. “Remember? That was the plan.”
“It was the plan before we knew the onslaught would be nearly ten times the size!” Sanemi fires.
“We were never going to stop them all just by attacking another pod!” Obanai says. “And you know that.”
“It was the only choice we had! He’s going to get himself killed–”
“He won’t! Not with the things he can do–”
“What if– but they–”
“Sanemi,” Giyuu places his hand on the white haired man’s shoulder, and Sanemi jerks his head to look at him– eyes wide.
There it is again. That same fear. That same dormant expression he’s only heard of happening once. He’s trying to hide the tremble in his breathing, lips pressed into a fine line with his brows furrowed over a terrified gaze.
Giyuu sighs. “...he’s right.”
“No, Giyuu–”
“He’s right, Sanemi.”
The other man tightens his jaw, fists still balled on the table.
Obanai’s right. They can’t end the reign just by attacking one pod. The Ondari will keep coming back and they won’t stop killing until they find the book.
Giyuu knows he can’t take on the whole tribe…
…But what choice do they have? This war started with Giyuu, and it might have to to end with him too.
“Stop, Giyuu please.” Sanemi puts his hand over Giyuu’s, which is still on his shoulder. He knows what the dark haired man is thinking– he always does. His eyes are pleading with him– so close to cracking through the composure Sanemi always carries. “You’re going to get yourself killed–”
“No,” Giyuu interrupts, voice just above a whisper. “...I won’t.”
“Tomioka.. I–” Mitsuri finally voices. “I think we should rethink this–”
“There’s nothing to think about. Iguro is right. We have no other choice.” He lets his voice trail off towards the end. “...and I won’t die.”
An empty promise– because even Giyuu’s not sure of this.
But he has to believe there’s a chance. Otherwise, this is all for nothing.
“Giyuu,” Sanemi’s hands are now on both of his shoulders, spinning him to face him. “...I don’t fucking care how many innocent people die,” his voice strained, his hands pressing hard into Giyuu’s shoulders. He’s biting his lip, eyes looking down as if not to let the other man see his desperation. As if not to break his composer.
But it’s breaking. And Giyuu sees it.
“...None of their lives amount to yours.”
Giyuu doesn’t say anything at first. He shoots his gaze to Obanai– he doesn’t look particularly thrilled at the plan either, even though it was his. Mitsuri looks on the verge of panic. And Sanemi…
He looks back to Sanemi.
…He looks like he’s about to cry.
So Giyuu shifts– just barely. He places one hand around Sanemi’s wrist, and smooths his thumb into the warm skin. Reassuring him. Promising that things will be okay.
Because they will. They have to be.
And unlike the last fight, Giyuu’s going into this one differently.
He’s going in with the will to survive.
“...I won’t die, Sanemi,” Giyuu whispers. He says it like he’s convincing himself. Like it’s a fact. “They can’t overpower me.”
Sanemi’s breath hitches, still looking down. Still on the verge of cracking. “But last time– they–”
“Because I let them,” Giyuu says, squeezing his fingers around Sanmi’s wrist. “...I won’t let them this time.”
This is true. He’s not going to let them overpower him like they did last time. He will make sure the Ondari never come back and he will make sure his friends are safe. He’ll make sure that Sanemi is safe.
He’s not going to lose. Whether or not he will escape with his life– he’s not sure. But no matter what, he will not lose.
He doesn’t want to think about the survival odds right now, because it’s making his mouth dry up.
“If you die, I’m going to kill you,” Sanemi laughs a shaky, nervous breath. His hands are still firm over Giyuu’s shoulders, and he’s leaning his head down, avoiding eye contact.
“Yeah, same,” Obanai says from across the table, making both men look up at him. “...Don’t die, man. Or else we’re all whooping your ass.”
“Well now I’m really going to try and avoid it,” Giyuu says– so deadpan that it makes Sanemi laugh. It’s still tense, and it sounds strained– but Giyuu’s pretty sure it’s all the man has. He’s also trying to be strong.
It releases some of the tension, at least.
“Guys,” Mitsuri speaks up, breaking everyone out of their bubble. “...We should reformulate the plan. At Uzui’s this weekend.”
“I agree,” Obanai says. “We’ll use the same strategy, but make it better.”
Sanemi takes a deep breath, as if he’s trying to convince himself to agree. To just let the plan roll. Not protest anymore.
But Giyuu knows the man. When has he ever kept his mouth shut?
So before Sanemi can try and argue one more time, Giyuu moves. He brings his fingers to be placed gently under Sanemi’s chin, and lifts his head to look at him– no care at all of who’s watching.
Then his eyes reassure him. Giyuu looks at him, face relaxed as if to prove he should be, too. To just relax and not worry. To trust him. Like how Giyuu had trusted Sanemi during the last fight. During everything.
And Sanemi listens. He understands the unspoken words– the silent plea to just let it happen. To trust in Giyuu’s power and to trust in his resolve. To believe him when he promises he will come back alive.
So he nods. Slowly and hesitantly.
And Giyuu does his best to ignore the aching in his chest. To ignore the very subtle tremor in his hands.
Because deep down.. he knows.
That he might be lying to Sanemi.
And if he was… he wouldn’t get the chance to apologize.
—
The rest of the day goes just about how Giyuu expected it to–
Terrible.
He was completely zoned out on his walk to lab. Someone tried to hand him something– maybe a newspaper? Giyuu didn’t even notice.
There was a shadow following him. A shadow he couldn’t shake. Not when he entered the biology building, not when he put the stupid blue, latex gloves over his trembling hands, and not when he took his place at the bench.
He was not present. He was anything but present.
But the lab continued anyway. Just like everything else.
He was struggling to find the means to continue, himself.
—
Giyuu wants to go home. And if he's being honest with himself– he wants to cry.
But he won’t. He can’t. Not now while he’s in lab where he’s supposed to be focused on the bacteria culture in front of him
Unfortunately for everyone– especially Giyuu– his life just got a whole lot harder. And now he’s forced to sit in the fact that he might not live to see the next school year.
He might have to leave Sanemi. For real this time.
He didn’t realize he was crinkling his lab paper between his fist until someone tapped him on the shoulder. That snaps him out of it.
Slowly, trying to compose himself, Giyuu turns his head to look at his lab partner from under furrowed brows. She’s looking up at him– concerned. Of course she was, Giyuu was practically drawing blood from how hard he was biting his tongue. He knew the face he was making. Over the years, he’s become way too hyper-conscious of his facial expressions at all times.
He knew he was doing a piss-poor job at hiding his anxiety.
“...Are you okay, Tomioka?” she asks, head tilted in concern.
Giyuu lets out a strained “...yes.” Barely releasing his jaw to speak. It doesn’t convince her at all, because she creases her brows in even more concern.
“Are you stressed about finals?” She asks, rolling her pencil between her fingers.
Finals? Not in the slightest. Giyuu couldn’t give a shit less about finals right now.
He probably should. But how can he possibly focus on that right now?
He turns back towards the lab bench. The microscope is still on and the sample is still there. Present. Unlike him. He couldn’t be further away from this lab right now.
“Yes,” is all he chokes out, as he picks up his pencil– flattening out his crumpled paper under his other hand. And that’s all he says. He slides the microscope closer to him, trying to hint to the girl to move on. To just finish the stupid lab with him so he can go home.
But clearly the universe hates him, because it decides to throw a final ‘fuck you’ when his lab partner doesn’t drop the topic. In fact, she’s now more distracted then the girl's ever been in any lab before, and that’s saying something.
“What are your plans for the summer?” she asks, not even turning back to her work.
Giyuu resists the urge to say something smart. Something about the fact that he’s about to spend his first weekend of summer fighting to the death. So instead, he just shrugs. And leaves it at that.
They’re supposed to be looking at the bacteria they had been culturing for the last two weeks under the microscope. What he’s looking for, Giyuu doesn’t know. He didn’t read the prelab. But he bends down to look into the microscope anyway.
“Are you visiting family?” his lab partner asks.
“No,” he answers, curtly.
“So you’re staying here?”
“...Yup.”
He lifts his head from the microscope. He wasn’t even looking at anything anyway, but he starts scribbling something on his paper– desperately, urgently trying to hint to his partner to just do the freaking lab.
He reaches for the swab and solution, but his lab partner beats him to it.
“Here. I can do it,” she says. And Giyuu exhales through his nose.
Okay she’s doing something. She’s moving on.
She starts preparing the next sample, gloves squeaking as she works, and Giyuu removes the culture from under the microscope.
It’s fine. Everything is fine.
You’re almost done, then you can go home and panic.
…
“...What electives are you taking next year?”
Giyuu swears he feels his eye twitch. .
She’s asking him like she knows there will be a next year for him. Like he’s not probably about to die.
Giyuu can’t get out of his head. He needs to go home.
He doesn’t want to die.
But every single negative thought keeps spiralling through his head.
He was fine at the dining center– more or less. Why is he freaking out now?
He’s not going to die.
Stop thinking that.
He needs to go home. And with every passing second he’s stuck in the tiny, sterile smelling room, his composure threatens to break.
But it doesn’t. He stays composed. And he reaches for the new sample in her hand. The one she took forever to prepare.
He sighs– quietly, enough to go unnoticed. But his breath is shaky, and he feels nauseous.
“...Nutrition.” he finally answers. Probably the hardest he’s had to work to just use his voice.
And the girl’s eyes light up.
“Me too! Maybe we’ll be in the same lecture!” she inches closer to him, letting her fingers brush with his as he takes the sample out of her hands. It’s so subtle, but it was so there.
Giyuu wants to throw up. In fact, he thinks he might. The smell of the formaldehyde is making him dizzy. The ethanol dripping down the petri dish he just cleaned. The lights are too bright. And the gloves on his hands are making him feel suffocated.
His lab partner doesn’t seem to sense his distress in the slightest. She proceeds to discard the swab in the beaker of DI water. That’s not where it’s supposed to go.
Giyuu grips his pencil so hard he thinks he might break it, and he starts scribbling observations in his notes. Observations that he’s just pulling out of his ass because he didn’t even look in the microscope this time.
Luckily, his lab partner didn’t seem to notice his fake out. But she does decide to lean in to look at his answers, watching as he writes whatever bullshit he can think of just to get him out of this god-forsaken lab room.
Giyuu’s stomach just churns, because she’s leaning in so close, he can practically smell her. And that on top of the formaldehyde, ethanol, and pungent fumes of the sterile room, the additional smell just makes bile rise to the back of his throat.
She giggles. “Why did you say ‘green?’ The bacteria is colorless.”
Is it? Because Giyuu wouldn’t know. He’s not exactly paying close attention to the bacteria right now when he’s got other problems to worry about. Like going home.
And preparing for what could be his demise.
No. It won’t be his demise. Because he promised Sanemi. And he can’t break that.
He doesn’t want to die.
A voice enters his thoughts. “Hello?”
Ignored. Mostly because Giyuu can’t find the words. He’s clenching so hard on his tongue, that the taste of iron pools in his mouth.
Iron. Pools in his mouth.
And his tongue hurts more than it should if he was just biting down on it.
…
…Great. Now he’s really losing his composure.
Giyuu takes a shaky inhale as he retracts his fangs back in. He didn’t realize he’d drawn them until he tasted blood.
He’s losing it.
“Tomioka?”
…
This time he looks. So slowly and so strained you would think he’s having a stroke. He turns his head to look at his lab partner, her eyes wide with worry.
Great. Now Giyuu has another person worrying– not just him. As if the mood couldn’t get any more worrisome.
“...Are you sure you’re okay? You look pale,” she says.
Without missing a beat. “This is my natural color.”
He says it through gritted teeth. That same excuse he used at the grocery store. Such a shitty excuse. And just like the cashier, the girl doesn’t buy it.
“No it’s not–”
“Yes.”
He feels like he’s going to be sick– fists are clenched on the lab bench
He wants– no, needs her to leave him alone so they can finish this lab and then he can go home and pace around the kitchen. But instead, he takes a deep breath. Still shaky. Still trying to hold down his lunch.
“This is.. my natural color,” voice calm and low. Why is he even still trying. She’s not going to buy it.
He turns back to his paper anyway.
But his blood runs cold. His heart stops.. as he feels a hand touch his cheek. The delicate hand of a concerned girl who’s clearly not taking the hint and is trying to figure out what’s wrong with him while also violating every single personal space boundary Giyuu has ever established in his life.
He jerks his head to look at her– eyes wider than they’ve ever been. And he can feel his nails digging into his palms, unwelcome energy flowing from them.
He needs to get out of here.
Now.
“...You don’t feel warm,” the girl finally says, brows creased under her bangs. “Actually… you’re quite cold.”
He doesn’t hear her. His heart is pounding in his ears. He can’t breathe normally.
She’s touching him. She needs to stop.
He can’t control his lungs. They’re picking up speed, aching as he takes sharp breaths through his nose.
Fists clenched.
The taste of iron is back.
And she hasn’t removed her hand yet.
He needs to leave.
She needs to stop.
His stomach lurches.
Then, something clicks. A noise– above them.
A millisecond passes. Just enough time for Giyuu to see the girl look up. And widen her eyes….
As the fire sprinklers turn on. All of them. And cold, grey water showers everyone, the lab equipment, the floors. Everything.
“What the–?” the girl pulls her hand away. Water drenches her– drenches Giyuu.
For a second, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look around.
The sound of rushing water fills the room too fast, too loud– students shouting, beakers clanking, someone swearing as they try to cover their work.
Giyuu just stands there.
His hands are still on the table. His jaw is still clenched.
And then it hits him.
Not as a thought. Not as a sentence.
As a drop in his stomach.
That was me.
His pulse stutters.
The sprinklers don’t feel like an accident anymore– they feel like an answer. A reaction. Something triggered. Something in him.
His fingers twitch against the edge of the table, suddenly too aware of his own body, of the heat still lingering under his skin, of everything he’s been trying not to feel building up and spilling out anyway.
Around him, someone shouts again– “What the hell triggered that?!”– but it’s distant, warped, like he’s hearing it through water.
He swallows hard.
Leave.
That’s the only clear thought he has.
He turns on his heel.
And bolts for the bathroom.
He makes it just in time to be sick. Luckily, no one else was in there.
He crashes his way into the big stall, hand covering his mouth as he collapses on the bathroom floor–
And vomits into the toilet.
He’s drenched head to toe from the sprinklers– hair clinging to his skin as tears well up the corners of his eyes from the impact.
He’s never shaken so violently in his life. Not when his parents died. Not when he almost died. But this was the final straw.
He can’t stop his mind. He can’t stop telling himself he’s going to die.
Not only that, but so are innocent people who try to cross the sea.
All because of him.
He can’t lie to Sanemi. He can’t betray him like that.
He won’t be overpowered. He’s going to win.
Then why is he here panicking on the bathroom floor?
Why did he just lose control? And drench an entire lab?
Because as much as he desperately tries– he can’t do it.
He can’t convince himself that he’ll make it out alive.
He doubles down, arms wrapped around his stomach as he sobs. Not a loud sob, but it was enough of the accumulated tension to shock him.
He’s shaking. Gasping for air.
Sanemi is going to watch him die.
I promised him–
“You’re not going to fucking die,” he whispers to himself. Trying so hard to reassure his brain.
Empty words.
Because he can’t calm down.
He hunches over on himself, tightening his arms around his midriff.
Should he call Sanemi? Tsutako?
He’s panicking. Something he’s never done before. At least not this physically.
He’s alone. He’s going to die alone.
“Stop thinking that,” another desperate whisper to himself.
Should he text Sanemi?
The tears aren’t stopping.
His lungs won’t stop racing as he clenches his fists into his side.
There’s nothing he can do to stop. He can’t move. He can’t breathe.
Things were going so right. How could they have gone this wrong in only three days?
They group is relying on him. They’re putting their own lives on the line for him.
Sanemi… believed him. He trusts him.
Sanemi… he should call Sanemi.
But Giyuu can’t pry his arms away from his stomach.
So instead, he snakes them down– lungs heaving, shoulders rising– and he slips his hand into his front pocket. Where his phone was. And he pulls it out– just enough to look at the screen.
He tells himself to breathe. But his lungs still aren’t stopping.
Fingers shake as he uses one hand to unlock his phone– and he can’t find it at first. The ability to open the messages app.
Sanemi will know he’s been in his head. He’s always in his fucking head. And when he sees him like this, he’ll call off the mission.
They can’t call off the mission. They need to exterminate the threat. More people are going to die.
…
He squeezes his hand around his phone. Tears falling down his cheeks, stomach still not settled.
…As he presses Sanemi’s contact.
Giyuu Tomioka: sanmi
Read immediately. And Giyuu chokes back oxygen, his other hand still digging into his side.
He shouldn’t be bothering Sanemi. He’s busy. He’s probably in class. Giyuu squeezes his eyes shut and attempts to swallow another sob.
Chat bubbles for a second…
Sanemi Shinazugawa: Yes Giyuu
He opens his eyes at the slight buzzing of his phone. And Sanemi’s message makes him want to cry more.
Still with one hand, he types.
Giyuu Tomioka: biolgy building third floor bathroom
Giyuu Tomioka: please
He shuts off his phone before Sanemi can respond. Despite feeling the immediate buzz of a notification, he doesn’t look. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t anymore. His vision was blurred, and his lungs weren’t letting him focus.
Instead, he drags himself, just enough to reach his arm up– and flush the toilet.
Then he lets himself fall back down– returning his arm to be wrapped around his stomach. Fist back to his side.
And he sits there. Hunched over. Lungs racing, his ears ringing.
And he waits.
—
Not even six minutes later, the bathroom door swings open.
During that time, Giyuu managed to calm himself down enough to scoot against the wall– the hard tile cold against his wet clothes.
He was sitting cross cross, leaning forward just enough so that his stomach wouldn’t hurt anymore. Fingers clenched over his knees, breathing in and out through his nose trying to steady his air. He’d managed to clear his vision and wipe away the tears from his cheeks– but he’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t still hurting.
Someone practically kicks down his door, and he looks up slowly.
And he exhales.
“Shit– hey, are you okay?” Sanemi drops to his knees, arms already wrapping around Giyuu to pull him in. “...why are you soaking wet?”
Where was Giyuu even supposed to start with the answer to that? He doesn’t want to tell Sanemi why he’s wet. And he doesn’t want to tell Sanemi why he’s shaking on the bathroom floor. And he definitely doesn’t want to tell Sanemi what’s been playing through his mind since they left the dining center.
So he doesn’t. He just leans into him, and takes a deep breath– closing his eyes as he lets himself relax. Because now he can.
And Sanemi, just like literally every single time he’s broken down– which Giyuu is starting to realize has been way too many times– just accepts the other man’s decision to say nothing. And he pulls Giyuu in, rubbing his hand up and down his arm.
Giyuu was still breathing hard, but less sporadic now. He leans his head into Sanemi’s chest, feeling his heartbeat under his now slightly dampened shirt from where Giyuu’s hair soaked it. He’ll have to apologize for that later.
Fingers tighten around his arm, and he feels tension rise in Sanemi’s shoulders.
Great. He figured it out.
“...did someone,” he says, voice strained in his throat. He pauses, just long enough to tighten his hold on Giyuu. “..did someone pour water on you?”
…
Okay, maybe he didn’t figure it out.
Either way, the sentence makes Giyuu laugh shakily through his nose.
“...no,” he whispers, and he feels Sanemi pause.
Giyuu can only imagine how this looks for him. Part of it amuses him– especially how quick he was to assume it was a mere bully.
Definitely not a bully.
“...I exploded my lab.” Giyuu continues, voice still quiet. Still shaky. Blunt as ever. He fully expected the shock he got from Sanemi that time.
“You– what?” he says, releasing his grip slightly. But Giyuu doesn’t explain.
He just sighs. He’s almost completely calmed his breathing by now– Sanemi’s hold really grounded him.
He knew it would, so he doesn’t regret messaging him.
But now he knows he’ll have to say something. He’s gotten away with breaking down without explanation a few too many times– and he doesn’t need to make Sanemi’s life any harder.
A deep breath. Then, he drops his head.
“...I can’t do this, Sanemi.”
And that explanation was enough for Sanemi, because he drops his head too, resting it on top of Giyuu’s– understanding. Agreeing.
“I know,” he says. “...I can’t either.”
Honestly, Giyuu’s glad Sanemi said that. Because now he knows he’s not the only one struggling to come to terms with reality. He supposes he always knew– it was obvious by how hesitant Sanemi was at lunch– but now he knows for sure.
He’s not the only one who knows the plan won’t end well.
“Obanai told me earlier…” Sanemi whispers, back to rubbing his hand down Giyuu’s arm. “...that he regrets suggesting what he did. That–” he cuts himself off, and takes a deep breath. He’s angry, Giyuu can hear it. He’s angry at the situation and the way things changed so abruptly and at the new plan. Reasonable anger.
So Giyuu finishes for him.
“...I get it,” he whispers, and he feels Sanemi relax very slightly. Still tense– still angry. But hearing that his frustration was reciprocated relaxed him.
“I don’t blame Iguro,” Giyuu stutters. “I know what– he meant, and...he’s still right.”
“Giyuu, no–”
“But– I won’t do it.”
He’d reached that conclusion before Sanemi got here. He can’t do it. Throw himself into the hive, likely get himself killed. Not now. Not when he’s finally found himself.
Not when the guilt that would have driven him to it before…
…is not there.
Maybe a week ago, he would be thinking differently. But not any more. Not since Sanemi opened his eyes for him. Not since their friends showed they truly do accept him.
Not when he’s been given a reason to keep living.
“...Okay,” Sanemi breathes, pulling Giyuu in. “..Okay. Don’t. Please.”
The decision is made with no protest.
They’ll talk about it at Tengen this weekend. The situation will be discussed, as well as the risks, and he’s not going to sugar coat it. He probably won’t survive if they carry out this way.
But he wants to. And he’ll make that clear. Even if it means making a new plan, even if it means attacking sooner– making the mission less impactful– he wants to find another way.
The threat’s not gone. The Ondari are coming to them.
But there will be no casualties on Giyuu’s side.
Not when there has to be another way.