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undermine-the-instinct · 1 year

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Title: There Is No Better

Synopsis: Senjurou is a rengoku, and he has to deal with the consequences of that. That doesn't mean he has to do it alone though.

Pt 1 is here folks

Warnings: Toxic parent relationship, one instance of physical parental abuse, self loathing thoughts, angst.

Notes: Not beta-read. Senjurou centric but reader is pregnant (wife to the late Kyojurou!). Senjurou calls reader Ane-ue, which is a respectful term for an older sister. Japanese honorifics are used.

Wc: 6.5k (it's a long one folks)

Senjurou Rengoku could not be better.

He could hardly force himself out of bed in the mornings, content to lay in his brother's futon as if his scent hadn't long been gone. He's ashamed to say his Ane-ue has, more than once, had to coax him out and get the day started.

But after that he follows the motions of a schedule ingrained. He makes sure to take a decent portion of Ane-ue's chores too.

For instance, he's taken to taking Father's meals to his door, instead of Ane-ue, and weathers his father's indifference or annoyance with a grace so far removed it feels more oft like pity.

He doesn't interact with his father much beyond this. It has been years, even before Ane-ue, since he begged his father to take care of himself.

He draws water from the well, he helps prepare the food and tea, he cleans, he trains, he sweeps the grounds, he does everything he is supposed to.

Everything feels so dull and gray.

There are some spots of color. Mitsuri-chan and Obanai-san visit, bearing enough food to feed a battalion, odd combinations that Mitsuri-chan says pregnant women are sure to love.

Ane-ue laughs and says she could hardly eat it all, to which Mitsuri-chan tells her she is now eating for two. Obanai-san urges more food on his plate, eyes soft and knowing.

Lord Tengen and his wives come over as well. His wives pat his hair and fix his collar and help with chores. They surround Ane-ue and coo over her belly and hug her when she cries. Lord Tengen affectionately rubs his shoulders, says he misses them too, so quietly he wonders if he imagines he spoke at all. They let him be sullen and brooding and silent, without trying to make him smile or laugh.

They understand that grief is a heavy weight not easily lifted.

Gyomei-san does not visit often, but they have tea and pray together when he does arrive. Sometimes he plays his flute, and sometimes he weeps with them. He has taught Senjurou how to make a whistle with a leaf, little songs to pass the time.

Shinobu-san is kind to, when they arrive for the weekly check ups she does for Ane-ue and the baby. She tells them they can visit whenever, stay for as long as they like. She gives them vitamins and daily exercises. She lets Senjurou cry on her shoulder and tells him she knows what losing an older sibling is like, the anger, the sorrow, the uselessness.

The uselessness.

Soft spined. Bystander. Weakling. Meek.

Just as you've always been.

Senjurou wishes all demons were dead already, so that it would be okay to live in the world with his kind of existence. So he could be meek, because his brother's legacy would be fulfilled, because there would be no demons to threaten his home.

Of course, he is a Rengoku. He knows how to wield a blade, and he knows he will defend his home if need be.

He just knows he won't be the first to do so.

He knows Ane-ue would draw her blade and be the first to defend her home, not keen on losing another, not ever again.

He knows that his father would drop his drunken stupor, and pick up the mantle as first defender to his home, because that is a mantle that he has never forgotten. Discarded, but never forgotten, like a book left in the corner to collect dust. Yellow paged and soft from old age and disuse, but there, a reminder.

Even the child in Ane-ue's womb would grow to hold a blade, to become a demon slayer and fight demons, to wear a flame patterned Haori just as his brother once did, just as his Ane-ue has done and will continue and will eventually pass down.

He can't do this. He is not built for this. He is candlelight, small and easily snuffed. He was not meant to burn a righteous tempest.

Days blend into one another, and he thinks. Or he doesn't think much at all, head so far gone in the clouds that he is hardly present. He stays by Ane-ue's side. Throughout the days, and throughout the nights.

Every week, once a week, Father leaves his room after dinner and lights the torch. He sets it up, bright and blazing, and he only leaves after Ane-ue has settled herself in front, eyes wide in the face of fire. Senjurou joins her, and he stalks off. After the allotted time is up, he returns to put out the flame. He sits with them in silence for a few moments, until Ane-ue's eyesight is no longer imprinted with flames, and they retire to bed.

Tonight, he sits by Ane-ue's side as she stares into a blazing torch, a hand on her growing belly. He counts. She blinks once every two minutes.

"You don't have to stay here. I know you're probably tired. Go to sleep, I'll be there shortly." But Senjurou just shakes his head.

"I will wait. I don't want to go to sleep alone." And that's how it is. They stare at the flame for the appropriate time, and Father takes it out and they go to bed, he and Ane-ue always Ani-ue's futon.

When the sun rises, there is a dread, sitting in his belly as always. Another day begins.

Senjurou has made his choice. He has not said it out loud or hardly put it together in his head, lest he be crushed under the weight of shame. But he knows Ane-ue knows. She knows when he does only the basics of their training, to keep his body flexible and in shape. How he could hardly stand to hold his bokken.

She knows and she says nothing. She only smiles at him each time, accepting and gentle. He wants to cry but he's gotten better at holding his tears back, at ignoring the bubbling tide.

It swells and he turns away.

He is sweeping the front of his house when a young man in a green and black checkered haori approaches his front step. He is holding his ribs and there is a wicked looking scar on his forehead, and a box strapped to his back.

His name is Tanjiro Kamado, and he asks him if he knows of his brother's passing.

Of course I know, he muses. It's the single most devastating thing that has ever happened to me.

Still, he knows his manners, and when the boy says that he is here on behalf of his brother, that he has come to deliver his final words, his heart jumps and he wants to drag the boy inside, shake him till the words fall out, scoop them out and hold them close to his chest, propriety be damned.

Ane-ue would kill him if he doesn't offer him some tea, at least.

"And what would that worthless fool have to say?"

Shinjuro Rengoku steps out, and Senjuro feels all his muscles tense.

"He had no talent. He was a worthless swordsman, and thus, his words are worthless too."

Kamado looks pale, his face is pasty and sheening with sweat, and his worry alternates between him and his father.

His father leans against the doors, and takes a swig from his jug.

"A person's talent is decided the day they are born. Either you're part of the blessed or you're just another piece of trash."

He shrugs.

"Kyojurou thought he was blessed when he was just another ordinary, useless fool. He kept reaching when I told him over and over again not to. So why wouldn't he end up dead?"

"Hold on! That's way too far. Please do not talk about him like that!"

Father doesn't even look at Kamado, but raises a brow.

"And who are you?"

"I am…with the Demon slayer corps!" Father makes a soundless 'ah' and nods.

"Another one of the masses."

"My name is Tanjiro Kamado! I've come to–"

"Deliver Kyojurou's last words, I heard you the first time. I recognize you."

"You do?" Father is bedraggled, and his face is covered in stubble, but his voice is the dead calm Senjurou fears before he explodes.

"Tanjiro Kamado and his demon sister. I've heard. I've also heard she's placid, but yet I still wonder why she hasn't been killed. A demon is a demon, and if you lack the spine just let some other bloke do the job then." Kamado jerks forward, and Senjurou is caught in the middle.

"Father, they are guests, so please–"

"Guests? Have you lost your–" he looks up, and his sentence is cut off, mouth hanging slightly open. The jug falls and shatters sour sweet on the ground.

"Those earrings…! I see what it is! Have you come to mock us, boy?"

"Father, what?" What?

"Those earrings, that hair and scar….You're a user of Sunbreathing aren't you? Did you come here to gloat?!"

"What are you talking about? Sunbreathing? Gloating? That's not what I came here for. Please listen–"

But Father rushed forward and with a quickness he hadn't used in years, pins Kamado down.

"Father please, stop this madness! Can't you see he's not well?!" Senjurou rushes, and grabs his arm, because he's scared of his Father but he can't let this continue, and he is promptly smacked away. There is a harsh sting to his nose, and he feels the wetness drip down. His eyes heat.

Father looks at him and scoffs.

"The tears, always with the tears. I told you I didn't want to see any more pathetic sniveling after the funeral, didn't I Senjurou?!"

"That's enough!" Kamado breaks out the hold (very impressive), and he doesn't look so pale with the red flush of anger across his face.

"Talking so ill about your first, striking your other son, do you not have a heart?"

"Don't get cocky boy!" Kamado helps him up while he tries to stem the flow.

"Your hair, your earrings, that scar. I read all about it in the book. The Sun breathing technique is the original, all other forms just mimic it! Cheap imitations!

"But I don't care if you can use sunbreathing, I don't care about whatever mission led you to my steps. My son was a worthless swordsman and a worthless slayer to put his faith in you and your sister. I won't make the same mistake he did." Father snarls, and Senjurou thinks of embers and dragon breath.

"What arrogance you have to show face here."

"Arrogance?" Kamado's eyes are wide and he steps forward. He trembles.

"What arrogance? I am desperate! I am racked with guilt and anger and sorrow because I could not save your son. I am ruined! I am Devastated! Can't you see how devastated I am?!" He looks close to pulling his hair out and his voice shakes. Senjurou trembles in turn.

"You're just…a miserable old man!" Senjurou isn't given to expletives but holy fuck this man is rushing towards his Father with his fists raised and that is not a good idea.

"Wait, my father is a former Hashira!" Father reaches, grabs him under the arm and raises his own fist–

The next moments happen almost in slow motion.

The shoji doors slam open, and a blur races. Ane-ue raises her hand, and she slaps Father so hard, his body tilts to the opposite side, and the subsequent crack! makes him cringe. And in the same move he used on Kamado, she pins Father to the ground.

"What former hashira? I would be the current Flame Hashira if I weren't pregnant!!"

Oh, Gods and Heavens above.

Father has enough sense to not resist or try to buck Ane-ue off, but Senjurou is having a heart attack, he and Kamado are frantic, urging her to get off.

She scoffs and does so, but she picks Father up the scruff of his neck and shakes him a little, like a puppy.

"This boy is barely older than Senjurou and you're trying to fight him like he's a grown man? What is wrong with you?"

"Okay, okay, I got it woman now get your hands off of me! Aren't you supposed to be resting, or something?"

"Aren't you supposed to be sober?" He shakes off Ane-ue's hold, and spends a good minute glaring at the Kamado boy, before Ane-ue smacks him upside the head.

"Get out of here already! I don't know what kind of funk you're in, but go walk it off. Shoo, shoo!" And she shoves him past the front gate, and when she returns, she is smiling a bit sheepishly and dusting her hands.

"I am so sorry for the commotion. Please, would you like to come inside for some tea?" Of course, Tanjiro Kamado accepts, and he is led inside the Rengoku family home.

"So those were the last words…my brother left behind." He stares down into his cup, half full. He can see Ane-ue, a few tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She wipes them away.

"He was valiant until the end. Thank you so very much." They both knelt, and Kamado quickly rushes to bow as well.

"No, no! Forgive me for coming short."

They rise, and his sister's eyes fall upon the box that Kamado set to his side. It moves, a small shuffle heard inside. Senjurou watches but Ane-ue smiles.

"We're a bit further inside, so I'm sure it would be alright to let your sister out of her box. I'm sure it's uncomfortable being cooped up inside all the time."

Kamado waved his hands, a polite smile on his face.

"Oh, we wouldn't want to impose."

She tilts her head.

"You're not imposing, I'm asking. In fact, I insist."

"We wouldn't want to unsettle you while you're in such a fragile state–"

With a creak, the box fell open. And with a tumble, Kamado Nezuko flops out, slowly growing to the size of an average girl. It is unnerving, it is unnatural, but Senjurou trusts his sister's judgment holds firm, months later. Still, his skin crawls.

Her flower pink eyes rove across the room, until she scoots towards her brother, who pats her. Kamado chuckles nervously.

"Well, there you have it. Welcome to the Rengoku estate, Nezuko-chan. You're the first demon we've ever had a guest." The demon girl blinks up at his Ane-ue, and Ane-ue smiles.

Nezuko sits up, and shuffles forward, her eyes fixed on his sister with soft focus. Ane-ue, despite her words, stiffens. He recognizes from the flare of her nostrils, flame breathing. He knows she hides a tantō in the folds of her clothing.

But Nezuko just rests her hands on her swelling belly. And after a moment, she smiles behind the gag. Ane-ue breathes, and strokes her hair. Ash and embers. Ash and embers. Senjurou shakes off the sparks.

"Thank you, anyways. You've taken a load off our minds. Father is always badmouthing my brother…I could never do anything. Thank you for coming all this way."

"It's all I could do, as his charge."

"Is that right?" Ane-ue asks.

"Yes! He accepted my comrades and I as his disciples on the train before we fought against the first demon. Though it was a mere few hours, he taught me plenty, and I'm sure he would have taught me well had he…survived." The mood falls back down, but it's a weight Senjurou is familiar with. He urges Kamado to pick up his cup.

"I also came here…because Rengoku-san said I might find an answer here, about my Hinokami Kagura, and Sun breathing."

"My Father said something of the sort, when you first arrived. Sun breathing. The first breath technique. I'm afraid I don't know much about it." They turn to Ane-ue, who purses her lips.

"Neither do I. Kyojurou never mentioned anything of the sort to me either. But if Rengoku-san spoke of it, he must know something."

"Rengoku-san said the answers might be found in the Flame Hashira chronicles."

"It might, Kyojurou only had the chance to read them briefly. He keeps them in the room but with your father gone…" A light flashed in her eyes, and she hurried Nezuko off her lap with a soft apology, shooting to her feet.

"Please, stay right here, I'll go get them." A breeze pushed their hair back as she flew out the room.

Senjurou looks at Kamado, who looks at him, and they smile awkwardly. Kamado beckons his sister, but she stays in place, looking at him. It is hard for Senjurou to feel relaxed with a demon mere feet away, staring sunset pink into his face, but he tries not to fidget.

Luckily the moment doesn't last that long because Ane-ue flies back in, an old book in her hands. She shakes her head as she shuts the shoji doors, stray hairs stirring in the wind.

"Ha, new record. You wouldn't believe the mess in there. I cleaned it three days ago, he ruined it in that little amount of time?" She shakes her head again and hands the book gingerly to Kamado.

"Is what you want to find in here?"

All three of them gasp as he opens the book. The cover was intact, and the book was soft from old age. But the book, it was destroyed; the pages were torn and ruined, hardly eligible.

"How…?"

"Was it like this from the start?"

"No, the Flame Hashira Chronicles are stored very carefully. I believe it was my Father who tore those pages. I'm so sorry." Senjurou is mortified. All that history, all that knowledge, just destroyed?

But, isn't he doing the same thing?

"Are there any copies? Or anything you can tell me?" Kamado turns his gaze to Ane-ue, whose face falls.

"I wasn't born into the Rengoku household. If I had become a Flame Hashira then perhaps I could've… I'm so sorry. You came all this way only to learn nothing useful." She hangs her head.

But Kamado shakes his head, his red brown trusses.

"It's alright, please do not worry. I'm going to train harder, that's what I need to do.

"I know how to perform the dance, but I have not yet mastered the Hinokami Kagura. I physically cannot keep up with it. I can't will my body to move the way I want it to. That's my fault, my low stamina is to blame. That's what I need to work on."

Ane-ue's eyes sparked back to life, and she stood on her feet in a flash. Even in her precocious state, her breath still sparked with flames.

"Maybe we can't help you with your dance, or sunbreathing, but we can help with your training. Kyojurou often made training logs, what he could improve on, increasing strength or stamina or speed. I'm sure that could help you too! Let me go look for it!" And she rushed out the room before anyone could say anything.

Senjurou blinks back his shock, and turns back to the Kamado siblings. He feels the awkwardness start to seep back in. He doesn't really speak to people near his age often enough.

Nezuko is (still) looking at him, head now in her brother's lap. The bamboo gag in her mouth bobbed, as if she were trying to say something, but she just leans into her brother's hand.

"Thank you, for all your help and kindness so far." Senjurou looks at the young man, his eyes kind and grateful.

"It is no problem, it is the least we can do." He shakes his head.

"I want- I need to get stronger quickly, so I can protect more people. I can't, the way I am now. If I had been stronger that day, to just…snap my fingers and be powerful enough in an instant to save Rengoku…"

Me too, he thinks, me too.

"But there is no such method. All I can do is struggle. No matter how grueling or frustrating it is, it's all I can do. I have to move forward. I'm not just fighting for my sake." He looked to his sister, content under his hand.

"I know the consequences of failure. I can't suffer from them again. I can't." Senjurou feels the tears falling down his face. Only it didn't feel like a tide, pulling him under. More like the ocean, lapping at him in soft waves.

"My nichirin sword never changed color. Nichirin swords only change after you've acquired a set amount of skills, but mine never did. No matter how hard I trained, it just never did. And I suppose its because…. I never had the will or drive. So I took that as proof of my inherent failure, as a Rengoku. I've always been too meek, too soft and non confrontational. A failure in my father's eyes."

"...I don't regret trying to headbutt him. No, I regret not headbutting him."

That startled a laugh out of him, it was so sudden.

"What would that have accomplished?"

"That would have made everyone feel better."

"Not my father." Kamado shrugs.

"He deserves it." He laughed again, but it had a bitter tinge.

"Well, normally, I would have trained under my brother and become his Tsuguko, a Hashira in reserve. Ane-ue has taken that position, though she's had to take leave for her pregnancy. And I…"

Red eyes flash in his memory. He sighs, weary. He is so tired.

"I'm going to forget about being a swordsman, and try to be useful to others in some other way. Since Ane-ue is not blood related, the Flame Hashira line will be broken, and our long history will no doubt be damaged. But I'm sure that my brother…will forgive me."

His voice cracks. He could perfectly envision it; the warm sturdy presence of his brother, and when he turns to look, a smile. Benevolent and kind. That would be his response, no doubt.

His heart breaks a little.

He feels a hand to his head, and startles up, blinking into pearl pink eyes. Nezuko strokes his head, once, twice, before patting his cheek with a warm palm, careful with her nails.

He didn't think a demon's hands would be this soft.

"Do what you feel is right." Tanjiro Kamado has a gleam in his eyes as he takes in the two of them, something warm and sorrowful, like nostalgia.

He smiled. "If anyone tries to badmouth you, I'll headbutt them!"

"And I'll punch them!" Ane-ue burst through the shoji doors, and the boys jump. Senjurou has to reach out to steady the table. Nezuko is the only one nonplussed, patting his back as if in comfort.

"Sorry, that took so long. But here! I'm sure these would help you." Three journals she handed to Tanjiro-kun, and he quickly flipped through them, smiling up at her in gratitude.

"Yes, yes, this will surely help. Thank you so much!!"

"It's the least we can do. And Senjurou?" He knows that tone. He looks up at his sister, but her gaze is more kind than stern. She cut no corners.

"Why did you never tell me you felt this way?"

Senjurou wants to look away, but he doesn't dare.

"....Because you would have denied it, and I don't deserve it."

Her eyes burn.

"'Don't deserve it'? Senjurou–"

"But it's true, is it not?" He's not one to cut off his Ane-ue, but he feels like he is suddenly being swept up into a frenzy.

"I've been training, but my sword has never changed color. I don't have as much stamina or speed or strength as any other slayer. I don't have any other qualities I can turn into strengths, like Mitsuri-chan, to make up for my shortcomings. Even with my brother gone…I can't even turn that into a strength. I'm weak."

He thinks of flower pink eyes and calloused hands, and the work that they do, the tragedy that went into both. He has callouses on his hands too, but not like those. Not like those.

She hums.

"There are those that live up to expectations, like your father before, and surpass them, like Kyojurou. There are slayers that take their pain and use it to fuel their strength. Like Lady Shinobu, Or Sanemi-San, or dozens of other slayers. Or, they use their love, like Mitsuri-chan, Oyakata-sama. But one of the things that we all have in common, besides our despair over the world, is love for it." Her eyes don't stray.

"And love for the people in it. Both the ones still here and the ones that have passed." She moves to sit and Senjurou helps her settle down smoothly. She grabs his hands and squeezes.

"The Demon Slayer Corps is a movement that spans generations, we are driven by hope and love, and passion. And all our anger, and all our sorrow. All those centuries worth of emotions is what inspires and guides us."

She moves her gaze, and Senjurou finds the Kamado siblings at the end of it.

"But the problem with a movement that lasts generations, is that the trauma also lasts generations. More people are hurt. Some people are just born tired. Angry. They give themselves over to any cause that accepts them, and that's how they fall through the cracks. They're taken from their homes and families. Children become fodder, or demons, or slayers.

"A movement that lasts generations means the hurt is allowed to spread for generations. And as a Slayer, it is my duty and honor to fight against this sickness. Sometimes, the only way to get rid of the sickness is to burn it with fire. And some people throw themselves into that fire. If it keeps the flames burning, so be it. If it keeps the sickness from spreading, as it should. If I'm the last, then let it be. Just like Kyojurou. Just like me, when the time should ever arise. Its not a matter of if, Senjurou, its when."

Ane-ue sighs, and she suddenly looks so tired. It's not the dark circles under eyes, or the slight stray hairs, or the frown on her face. Her face is smooth, the crows feet at the corner of her eyes fading from the absence of laughter. The calluses on her hands are starting to fade. She is still so young.

Her voice croaks as she speaks. She clears her throat.

"But what is left over after the hurt? After the world has been burnt and salted? Who's going to rebuild the towns and houses and roads? Patch all the wounds? Who's going to stitch the clothing, or cook breakfast in the morning?" Senjurou doesn't know he is weeping until she smiles at him and it's blurrier than usual, and he would feel embarrassed if Tanjiro-kun wasn't weeping with him.

"And some people are born soft. And that's a good thing. I think that's so good. I would hate for my baby to be born in a home where soft is a bad thing. Because if humans could harness the power of our anger and hatred, Demons would have been eradicated already. But all we have is our desperation and hope and love, and we have to prove that's enough" Her tears fall when she strokes her belly.

"That's why I have so much hope for you two. It's why Kyojurou and I chose to pick up the blade. To protect you, and all that is like you."

"But it's not supposed to be like that." He cries.

"I'm supposed to be a Rengoku. I'm supposed to be better. I have a legacy to uphold and I'm failing that. I'm just…" He chokes.

"Senjuru, there is no better. You are my brother and that brings me so much joy because you are you." She shuffles closer, and draws him to her side with an arm around his shoulders.

"I was supposed to be something else too. I was supposed to be so many things, things I thought I wanted and some I definitely didn't. But I'm glad I'm here now. I'm glad I married your brother. I'm glad I'm your sister and I'm glad I'm going to be a mother. I'm not glad so many things went wrong, but I'm happy with who I am, and where I ended up. I'm so happy you're here too. And I know Kyojurou would be happy with you as you are, and as you will be, whoever you choose to be. He wouldn't want you to berate yourself like this."

"He's gone now. I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to take care of you." She huffed a laugh.

"I think he left us to care for each other, and that includes your Father too. I miss him too, Senjurou," and now her voice fully breaks.

"Every moment of every day and night. But the world has to go on, and we have to live with the hurt."

"I just feel so small." His face crumbles and she draws him tighter.

"And that's fine too. Not every night needs to be burned away with fire. Sometimes, we just need a candle to guide us through it. "

"Set your heart ablaze." Three heads turned to Tanjiro-kun, who was wiping his tears away unsuccessfully.

"That is what Rengoku-san told me. No matter how devastated you may be by your own weakness or uselessness, grit your teeth and look ahead, because the world isn't going to stop and wait for you.

"I keep those words in my heart and use it to strive forward. The world is always moving, and often cruel. But I think it's good also…to have love for it. For what good is there. So I will keep my kindness. I will keep my soft heart. Even if others say that it's my weakness, that it's useless. Which I don't understand because wouldn't you want someone to be kind to you, especially at your worst? Especially when your time comes?

"That's why, before I am a demon slayer, " he looks at his sister, his tears like raindrops.

"I'm an older brother. I'm the eldest son. And this is what my family has taught me. I will keep it."

"What does it say to all my predecessors if I chose to keep my 'softness', if it means forsaking my history?" Senjurou mumbles.

Tanjiro-kun shrugs.

"What does it say to the living if you don't? To your brother's memory? The world is full of cruel things. I've already seen too much of it. I want there to be soft places too." Tanjiro-kun smiles, fragile.

"I think you could be one of them. I think you should."

"Kyojurou would always speak so happily about returning home to you on every one of our joint missions," his sister mumbles into his hair.

"I think you already were, long before any of us knew."

"Ane-ue and I will restore the Flame Hashira Chronicles ourselves. I will also ask my Father, and send you word of anything through our crow."

The early sunset made his red brown hair shine like molten coals, his eyes as soft and kind as summer. Looking at him reminded Senjurou of an ocean horizon, shining and crested with golden froth.

"You are kind, Senjurou-kun. Thank you, and your sister, for your help and hospitality." He bowed. Senjurou laughed, a little scoff.

"I should be thanking you, for bringing my brother's last words to us. You were kind to defend me, and I am grateful. I'm...glad I got the chance to meet you, to talk to you. Please get home safely."

A nod, an adjustment of the box on his shoulders, and Tanjiro turned to leave. Senjurou gathered his courage.

"Wait, Tanjiro-kun. Here." His brother's nichirin sword guard lay in the cloth, polished to a shine.

Ane-ue pressed it into his hands with a watery smile, a knowing look shared between them, and pushed him towards Tanjiro-kun when it was time to leave.

Without the sword guard, Ani-ue's sword would need a new one, if it was ever going to see battle again. But Senjurou knew that Ane-ue would never have the heart to replace such an integral piece of his sword.

It would be laid to rest, finally.

"I…! Surely I can't accept something as valuable as this!"

He pressed it insistently into his hands, holding it before…letting go.

"I want you to take it with you. I'm sure it will protect you."

"...If I must. Thank you." He waved him off till he disappeared in the distance, and stood there against the red sky, breathing in, out. Finally, he stepped inside.

Father had already returned, thankfully without a fuss. The alcohol must have quelled his rage for the time being. Better now then never.

Kneeled in proper seiza. Hands in lap. Back straight. Voice neutral, to avoid any dispute.

"Our guest has already left, Father." The sweet sharp smell of sake must have sunk into the wood of the floor, because his father's room always smelt of it. He knew few people could tolerate the scent, and he once found it unbearable, but his nose grew accustomed. It was a mess just like his sister said.

"...Tanjiro Kamado. And his demon sister."

"Nezuko Kamado." His father's eyes cut to him, and he jolted, a little.

"A demon is a demon. It doesn't have a name. And you let it into our home?"

"...I trust that Ane-ue's and my brother's judgment still holds firm all this time later." He thinks of soft hands. Calloused hands. Both so kind.

His father scoffs, turns away again.

"Your sister's brain is muddled. Too many...events for her to handle. And what good are the words of a deadman when they go against everything he supposedly lived for? All those years struggling and despairing, becoming a hashira, killing countless demons. Now you make exceptions for one? Why, because it never killed a human?"

Hm. It's the first time Father really acknowledged his brother. It was odd. It left a sour tang in his mouth. His brother should have heard this, not him.

"I trust their judgment." He scoffed again, and rested his cheek against his hand. He sipped from the jug.

"Tanjiro-kun came to give us my brother's final words. He had some for you. They–"

"What do I care about that? It's probably just his gripes about me. I don't want to hear what I already know."

"But Father–"

"Don't make me repeat myself Senjurou." Senjurou pushes because he has to.

"But my brother's words–"

Father shoots up, shadowed by the sunset at his back. His eyes, rimmed red, keep Senjurou pinned, the words sitting on his tongue, heavy.

"....Get out of my room Senjurou." He doesn't look to see if he has. He just turns away, knowing that he will.

And he almost does. He's done it before. But if he ever was a Rengoku, if he was ever his brother's brother, he wouldn't leave his Father here.

"...'Take care of yourself, Father.'

"Those were the only words my brother left for you, Father. I'll be going now." There was no response as he shut the door, and he didn't linger to hear anything else. Let him have his moment of grief, reflection, whichever.

Ane-ue was serving dinner. She looks up and smiles, and he smiles back, taking the spoon from her. They eat in silence. And retire to bed in silence.

There are some spots of color. Giyuu-san visits, and he is so quiet that Senjurou can't help but see a man immobile in his awkwardness. A kind man, kind enough to spare a demon and give up his life for brother and sister, and his sister likes to tease him.

Sanemi-san never sends any letters, even after they've been encouraged to write to him. First out of courtesy, then acquaintanceship, then friendship. He sends boxes of mochi, tea, sweet fruit and toys for children. Senjurou doesn't know if the toys are for him or for the baby.

A few weeks after Tanjiro-kun visits he wakes up, next to his sister with an odd feeling. She is sleeping and he is pressed to her front and he feels it again, just under his ribs. His eyes widen.

The baby kicks his ribs again and again throughout the night, and he stays up to feel them. His eyes tear up a little, (from the pain, of course, they're strong, they are Rengoku after all), and he wonders what their name will be.

Tanjiro-kun writes too. He includes stories of a Zenitsu and Inosuke, or yellow boy and boar-head boy, as his brother had called them. He laughs so hard at these stories he cries, and he doesn't care if his Father hears and gets annoyed, because the first time he did that and every time he does it after his sister smiles like she just saw the sun again after a long winter. She asks him to read them to her and she laughs too, and then she jolts and holds her belly, a grin at her lips when they kick. (Senjurou seriously doesn't know how she can smile with getting her ribs kicked in from the inside. It hurt from the outside with him.)

Father…writes more often. He is more a brooding silent then a seething silent nowadays, and he doesn't glare as often. He is helping them restore the Flame Hashira chronicles. He helps Ane-ue or himself cook, or just does it himself sometimes. Supervised by Ane-ue of course, he hasn't cooked in years after all. He even ruffled Senjurou's hair one time, as they passed each other in the halls. He helps with the chores and goes out to get supplies for them. He helps Ane-ue put on her shoes on family walks, and Senjurou feels a little like a scab, tender and healing.

Every week, once a week, Father leaves his room after dinner and lights the torch. He sets it up, bright and blazing, and he stays. They talk, low under the crackling of fire. Senjurou wonders if this brings back memories for him, of a mother Senjuro hardly remembers.

Tonight, he sits by Ane-ue's side as she stares into a blazing torch, a hand on her growing belly. He counts. She blinks once every two minutes.

"It's so late. Why don't you two go to bed? I can take out the fire myself."

"...Ruka and Kyojurou would yell at me from beyond the grave if I left you here."

"If they aren't already. You nearly burnt the house down cooking dinner tonight."

Senjurou pops in.

"To be fair, he's hardly cooked in years. Only the food was burnt tonight, at least, and that's the best case scenario."

"....Stare at the flames so we can go to bed already." Senjurou smiles. He hasn't flinched in months.

There are still days he wakes up, cold and gray. Ane-ue still weeps when he or Father help her into her shoes when she can't bend down anymore.

But in the morning there is breakfast, and chores, and a letter waiting to be replied to. There is a lightness in his chest that feels like ocean froth, like wind in a whistle, grass growing out of stone, a warmed hearth, a new name being chosen. He has made his decision.

#my stuff #my writing #kny kyojuro x reader #kny kyojurou #kny kyojuro #kny senjurou #kny senjuro #kny angst #kny rengoku #demon slayer au #demon slayer #rengoku senjurou #rengoku senjuro #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou #hearth #angst #long fic

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mangalover4321 · 1 year

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I just wanted to say that I couldn't cry more reading the last scene with Kyo and Shinjuro in the lasted chapter. All the emotions, grief, love n guilt in a hug that breaks me to no end bc of the actual canon..God I still want to cry while I remember it. All the moments between him and his boys is the only thing that had made me deeply happy these months while I read the fic. You are amazing n deserve all the world!! I hope u had a nice holidays ♥ Can't wait to finally see the train!

Aw, thank you so much! I truly appreciate all the wonderful support everyone gives to this story! ♥

We are finally at the Mugen Train as well! I did have make some emotional moments before Shinjurou headed out for the mission and the end is coming! Everyone will have to hold on for what is in store and be ready!

Thank you again and I hope that you will continue to enjoy the story! ♥

#requiem of a redemption #kny #kny kyoujurou #kny kyojuro #kny kyojurou #kny spoilers #kny shinjurou #kny shinjuro #kny senjuro #kny senjurou #demon slayer rengoku #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #the pendulum keeps swinging

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hauntedbythenarrative · 11 months

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No matter how many times I’m reborn, I’m always going to be your little sister! No matter what!

Demon Slayer + siblings

The Reynolds Pamphlet, Lin-Manuel Miranda//Erica E. Goode//Antigone//My Sister's Keeper, Jodi Picoult//I wish I was, The Avett Brothers//Demon Slayer: Entertainment District Arc

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muichirosworld · 10 months

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vesnawinters · 2 years

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The happy ending we all deserve <з

#Rengoku #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku senjurou #rengoku kyōjurō #kny senjuro #Kny #Kny fanart #Demon slayer #kimetsunoyaiba #Demon slayer fanart

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reineydraws · 10 months

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same ship, different font ☠️🔥

#renkaza #grimmichi #bleach #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #bleach fanart #kny fanart #rengoku kyojuro #akaza #kny akaza #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow #ichigo kurosaki #akaren #so i watched mugen train and went looking for rengoku bros content and stumbled onto a renkaza fic heavily centred around senjurou #and as i read it i was like hm. they uh. they remind me of grimmichi.#✅️ meet in a fight to the death; ✅️ undead one obsessed with the other's power and fighting spirit;#✅️ the demonic one still follows a moral code of sorts; ✅️ they dont follow their evil boss 100p of their own consent;#✅️ loose black uniform vs wide open top specifically to show off pecs and abs #lmao isnt there A Lot. and thats just the canon stuff.#oh cant forget ✅️ themes of violence and cannibalism.#anyways i was reading and i was like 'lol no wonder'#fusion au #oh! ✅️ the 'good' one has offensively bright fiery hair hahaha #and also ✅️ sword #i also have a sketch sheet of rengoku hairstyles and im colouring another emotionally angsty renkaza sketch lmao theyve caught me

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pocochiiiiii · 10 months

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Hollow knight style demon slayer characters part 4

(It took a long time to design the characters😭😭😭)

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ozrbbit · 11 months

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he's just a little shy dw

#my art #kny #rengoku senjurou #rengoku kyojuro #demon senjuro

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bokutosbiceps · 11 months

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cold hands + warm cheeks

rengoku kyojuro x f!reader | fluff + angst if you squint | 1.4k words

prompt: kyojuro + “your hands are always so cold”

warnings: none! pls enjoy 😊

You sat cross legged on the tatami mat, gazing down at Kyojuro’s peaceful face. He was sleeping. Something he didn’t do much of since becoming a Hashira. He was always chattering about his duty to humankind, about protecting those he cared about, about protecting you.

Unfortunately for him, some random illness had knocked him flat on his behind. Fortunately for you, this allowed you to be able to spend day and night with him, taking care of him both to his chagrin and his delight. You remember when Ubuyashiki-san had officially granted him a leave of absence upon noticing he was ill.

“I want to be fighting alongside the others! Saving people! Defeating—” A sneeze interrupted his declaration of resolve. You giggled and pulled out a clean cloth to wipe his nose. You laid him back down on the bed before turning to Ubuyashiki and his wife. You bowed deeply.

“Thank you for giving Kyojuro this time to recuperate.” You glanced at him, “I’m sure this illness is a sign that he needs to rest.”

“Of course. The health of my hashira is of the utmost importance. Rengoku-san has already done so much for our cause.” Ubuyashiki bowed to you. “Please take good care of him.”

Ubuyashiki’s wife started to lead him toward the door, but he stopped and turned to Kyojuro. “And Rengoku-san…please try your best to rest.” He smiled before allowing himself to be led out by his wife.

Kyojuro tried to respond with an energetic “Yessir!” but was cut off by a fit of coughs.

It was the fourth day that he had been sick, but you knew he was nearing the end of his illness. Nearing the end of your quality time with him. Soon enough he’d be back out in the world, fighting demons and saving people, sacrificing himself for people who didn’t even have the privilege to know him.

“Y/n-san?” A small voice calls out to you. You turn toward the sliding door where Senjuro’s head is poking in. He looks worried. You stand up and pad over to the door, exiting Kyojuro’s room and sliding the door shut behind you quietly.

“He’s fine, Senjuro-kun, I promise.” You smile at him and pat his head reassuringly. You notice the tension in Senjuro’s shoulders dissipate. “I’m pretty sure he’s well on his way to being at one hundred percent of his strength again. I think he’ll just need another day or two.” Senjuro’s face still had worry etched into it. “Why don’t we make a nice meal for him to enjoy when he wakes up?”

Senjuro nods excitedly, following you to the kitchen and assisting with preparations for the meal.

Kyojuro stirred and sat up abruptly upon the scent of tempura wafting across his nostrils. He heard Senjuro laughing accompanied by the comforting sound of your voice coming from somewhere outside of his room. He smiled to himself.

They must be cooking for me. He closed his eyes and laid back down, knowing he would get an earful from you if you saw him up and out of bed. Honestly, that woman…what did I ever do to deserve her?

Kyojuro let himself rest for a bit more and listened to the joyful sounds coming from the kitchen, imagining your smiling face as you cooked his favorite meal just for him. He thought about you teaching Senjuro how to fry a piece of shrimp without burning himself, how to chop vegetables without cutting himself, and how to properly plate each item of food to make a beautiful meal.

Kyojuro was grateful that you were such a good friend and teacher to Senjuro, that you loved to spend time with him and help him enjoy life. He was grateful that you were so forgiving toward his father, even after he would say horrible things to you. He was grateful that you had sacrificed your own health and time to nurse him back to health. He’d like to think this was only what he’d expect from his girlfriend—but you’d exceeded his expectations, you were everything he wanted and more.

The door slid open, effectively snapping Kyojuro out of his rose colored thoughts, to reveal you, the object of his affection. Senjuro was not far behind, carrying a tray of food stacked high with shrimp and sweet potato tempura, vegetables, and soup.

“Little brother! What have you got there?” Kyojuro sat up quickly and grinned. Senjuro smiled widely upon seeing that his older brother seemed to be back to his energetic self.

“We made you lunch!” Senjuro set the tray down next to Kyojuro’s futon and sat on his knees, hands fidgeting in his lap. “Though, y/n did most of the work. I just watched her and tried to help when I could.” You sat to the other side of Kyojuro’s futon and smiled.

“Senjuro did a great job. I couldn’t have done it without his help!” You winked at him and turned to Kyojuro. “Now, eat and enjoy, love.”

Kyojuro reached out to ruffle Senjuro’s hair. “I’m sure you guys made a great team!” Kyojuro picked up the chopsticks and shouted a quick thanks for the meal before diving in. You and Senjuro watched the orange haired man chow down on his food like he was a man starved, both relieved to see that he was back to his normal self. You actually didn’t hear a single sniffle or cough from him so far today.

You frowned slightly at the realization that, since he was feeling better, this probably meant that he would be off at work again. As much as you hated seeing Kyojuro sick, you had enjoyed being by his side all this time.

Kyojuro noticed your frown and, with a mouth full of his last bite of food, politely asked Senjuro to take away his tray and clean up the kitchen for you. Senjuro nodded obediently and left you and Kyojuro alone.

“My love,” Kyojuro gathered your hands in his own, “I’m feeling much better. What could that frown of yours possibly be about?” He smiled brightly at you, his eyes falling to the slight frown that still befell your lips.

“Nothing, nothing!” You shook your head, mustering a smile to replace your frown. His eyes lingered on your lips once more and you blushed deeply.

“Please, you can tell me anything! Since when did we keep secrets from each other?” He raised his eyebrows in slight teasing and you blushed even more. You really couldn’t hide anything from this man, he knew you too well.

“I’m really happy that you’re better now. It worried me so much to see you so tired and sick…but…you have to go back to work, right?” You peered at him through your eyelashes. You began to feel your palms sweat, just now realizing that he was still gripping your hands.

“Of course! It’s my duty, love!”He watched as your expression became downcast, no doubt thinking about being away from him once more. He squeezed your hands before taking each of them in each of his own, bringing them up to contact his cheeks.

You frowned deeper.

“Your face is warm.”

“That’s because your hands are always so cold!” Kyojuro lilted, smiling brighter still. “In that same way, I will always burn brightly for you, my love. The work that I do…it’s for Ubuyashiki-sama, for Senjuro, for the people of this world, and for you, darling.” He let go of your hands and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, laying back and bringing you to lay on his chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and placed a searing kiss to the skin there. “I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you…something that I could have prevented.” He mumbled against your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned back to gaze at his face. He was smiling brightly, as usual, and the fire in his eyes had returned after days of feeling under the weather. You leaned forward and slanted your lips against his, relishing in the warmth that spread throughout your body. Kyojuro brushed his knuckles against your cheeks and moved his lips with yours, sealing the sweet kiss.

“Just promise me that you’ll be safe.” You said quietly once the two of you had parted.

“For you, always.”

#rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku senjurou #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou x reader

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2demon2slayer · 1 year

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giyuu: i need to do everything i can to protect sabito from the hashira

the hashira: aw, a little man!

#kny #demon slayer #scribblings #tomioka giyuu #sabito #kamado tanjirou #makomo #rengoku senjurou #agatsuma zenitsu #tsuyuri kanao #kanzaki aoi #hashibira inosuke #tokitou yuuichirou #shinazugawa genya #sun hashira and tsuguko au

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undermine-the-instinct · 1 year

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Title: Some Better Love

Part One | Part Two

Synopsis: Senjuro is left adrift in the wake of his brothers death. He is Rengoku, with all that entails.

Warnings: Perhaps emotionally abusive parent? One instance of physical abuse from a parent. Self loathing thoughts, panic attack though it's not explicitly stated.

Wc: 4.9k

An au of @phen0l kny fic, lighting ten thousand lanterns, highly recommended!

Note! Ani-ue/Aniki- terms for older brother. Ane-ue- a term for an older sister, Senjurou's sister in law, in this case.

Senjuro is sweeping the front porch when the kasugai crow flies ahead.

It is his brother's crow, and joy and fear sing a trill in his heart. But nijimaru avoids him, and heads to the training grounds.

That is strange. With Father out to buy supplies for dinner, he is the most recognizable Rengoku, though Ane-ue is recognized as the matriarch to be. Nonetheless, he was usually approached first.

It is probably nothing. This has happened before when Ani-ue would send his crow to alert Ane-ue, to drop off gifts he couldn't deliver in person, or personal messages for her eyes alone. They are sweet like that.

He is curious, but his Ane-ue is practicing her kendo, before her pregnancy further progresses. He is sure she will still continue to try even when her belly is round with child but Ani-ue will surely make sure she doesn't push herself too hard—

He hears screaming. He drops the broom and runs.

Ane-ue is screaming, loud and guttural and painful. It is an angry sound, and it makes him feel scared. The hairs on his arms stand on end. The crow stands before her, with tears in its gleaming eyes. His stomach drops.

What has happened.

Her hands are around her throat and he reaches out because it looks like she is trying to choke herself, it looks painful, but he cannot make his feet move. He is so, so scared. He is a bystander as he's always been but he is scared.

He knows what has happened. No, he doesn't, he doesn't know anything. If he goes, if he approaches, he will have to know.

He doesn't want to.

But what is he supposed to do? She just keeps screaming and now she is sobbing and Senjuro is just standing there with his arms outstretched, useless, like he's always been.

She turns to him and he flinches, because the look in her eyes is blazing- Fury and outrage and misery. And while they are not the ruby red of the Rengoku, they gleam all the same.

His heart sinks and it starts to dawn on him, but hasn't he already figured it out? Something is wrong. His brain does not want him to connect the dots. It's no matter, he must.

All she does is look at him. Just staring. An eternity passes that way. Until she opens her arms and he runs (what else could he do?) and they both collapse, all graceless and miserly lined. And he knows. He knows.

His brother is dead. His brother is dead.

—

He looks peaceful.

The body lays in its coffin, hands crossed over the hole in the chest. The clothes are fresh. The skin is pale and smooth and cold. His Ane-ue has already cleaned the body (That is his brother, why does he talk as if this is merely a body-) and brushed his hair and left to give Senjuro his last few moments alone with his brother. And all he has done is just sit there and stare.

Like this, he looks like he is sleeping. Like he must be quiet to not disturb him. Like he is a toddler again, hesitating outside his brother's doors after a nightmare. He would always sense him, even if he had been asleep, and welcome him into his futon, no matter how quiet he was.

His father had been the first to enter. And seeing his son in that coffin, he had laughed. Loud. His shoulders shook. There were tears in his eyes. Senjuro had flinched and foolishly checked over like that would wake him up. It wasn't a pleasant laugh and Senjuro doesn't know whether it came from a place of ironic mirth or misery.

Ane-ue looked like she wanted to cut his tongue out.

And now alone, he does not know what to say. He loves his Aniki. His Aniki is gone. What more is there to say?

"I loved you more than I did Father, you know." His words seem so loud in the silence. He uncovers his mouth, and lets out all his secrets.

"I don't remember Mother all that much. The odd memory or two. And Father…Father was always so angry. You were too but, you made something out of it. You're… you're amazing, Aniki."

The Rengoku were all flames. His mother was sunlight, a gentle guiding force that you don't notice is there until it's gone. Father was a low fire, threatening to go out but no less as bright or searing. And Aniki was…Aniki.

With nothing but his own will, the memory of sunshine and a fire lit under his feet, he rose like the sun in a colbalt blue sky.

And he set just as fast.

And Senjuro was nothing but the worst qualities of them all. He was the impermanence of sunshine and the dim embers of a low fire. He was the look in his brother's eyes when they were picking bones out of his mother's ashes.

That was about the only time he ever saw his brother look so hauntingly at a pair of chopsticks.

"You never gave up on upholding the Rengoku legacy. You never gave up on Ane-ue and I can thank you for that, but you never gave up on father, or me. I don't know whether I should thank you for that or apologize to you but I can't just weep." Tears slipped down his cheeks, and he scrubbed them away.

"That's all I've been doing. Ane-ue and I took to sleeping in your futon because it still smells like you. Ane-ue already said her goodbyes, right? She really misses you." The tears flowed freely now, and Senjuro kept scrubbing at his face furiously.

"You didn't even get the chance to meet your child. You didn't even get the chance to. What are we going to do without you Aniki? What are we going to do? Father is already worse than ever before and Ane-ue acts like she's fine but she sits on the engawa every night and she cries.

"What are we going to do without you? " Senjuro weeps.

His brother lies in his coffin, silent and sleeping.

—

Every Hashira has come to pay respects to Rengoku Kyojuro. Many other slayers have also arrived, and this whole thing has been shaping up into a grand affair.

Rengoku Kyojuro was loved. But all the love in the world won't bring him back from the dead.

Senjuro musters up a weak smile and thanks the next people who offer up their condolences.

The sun has just started to set when the Hashira are finally able to approach, one by one. When they start, Senjuro is standing next to his Ane-ue and his fingers twitch, like he could still feel chopsticks in his hands.

Mitsuri-chan Is the first to approach, and wordlessly, she wraps Senjuro in a hug. It is crushing but he does not have the heart to refuse her. He watches the insect Hashira approach his sister with a hand to her forehead, before burrowing into the embrace.

"A slight fever. You need to rest."

"It's just stress, Shinobu-san. I'll be sure to retire early tonight."

"Only because we will travel to see Oyakata-sama tomorrow, so he can pay his respects. We do not want him to worsen his health." Senjuro mumbles.

"Neither do we want you to, Rengoku-san. You are with child. Do take care." She could only offer a weak nod.

For how exhausted she is, she stands straight, shoulders back. Ani-ue's haori is on her shoulders and it is infinitely bigger on her than it ever looked on him. It makes something in his chest ache.

She had refused to clean the fabric after Ani-ue came home, but after a day of tears and heavy silence she had shot up, and went to scrub out the dirt and blood, scrubbing till her hands were blistered and raw and Senjuro worried that the dye would bleed to.

His sword is at her hip.

When Mitsuri-chan finally lets him go, he sees the reds of her eyes, swollen and puffy. Tears tremble on her upper lip and Senjuro has to fight back on his own. His eyes were so tired.

The more reclusive Hashira have already paid their respects but keep to the back. Sanemi-san and Giyu-san were examples of this, standing off with dark brooding looks. Gyomei-san, the giant of a man, was praying and openly weeping, beads in his clasped hands.

He never thought he'd see the flamboyant Lord Tengen so subdued. His eyes were clouded and his fists were clenched, clothes dark and subdued, but he and his wives bowed low to Ane-ue when they approached her.

Nor did he expect the ditzy, but no less prodigious, wind pillar Muichiro to pay his respects so dutifully. His eyes were alert and present for once, though he was quiet as ever.

He was not much older than Senjuro, and Senjuro wondered what his life would have been like if he was more like this boy. He watches the pillar bow to him, and thinks how off that is. He should not be bowing to him. But he plays his part, with his mind elsewhere.

It was easy enough to slip in some faraway headspace, relying on hazy bodily function to perform his duties as the younger brother of Rengoku Kyojuro, as the only Rengoku son left. So that's what he does.

What if he was just a little bit better. What if he was just a little more.

He thinks Ani-ue could have been a prodigy. He rose to the top, all on his own anyways, even with a Father who refused to leave his room if not for wine. Or a brother too weak to have his sword change color.

If he was a little more, would he have survived?

It was best to not think about these things.

So that is, and eventually Rengoku Shinjuro reappears, drunk and only slightly stumbling. A hush falls over the grounds, and so do their glares, though no one says anything out of respect to the father of the deceased. It is only basic decency.

Until he set his sights on Senjuro.

Ever since Ani-ue came home in a box, (And it hasn't been that long, a handful of days) he's been keen to fall back into old habits. Drinking, isolating himself, pretending Ane-ue doesn't exist. But whenever he and Father cross paths, the old general glare of annoyance seems to flash into something a little more violent.

It came to a head one day when Father had raised his hand, and Senjuro flinched, expecting a blow.

It was involuntary, reflexive. His father had never put his hands on Senjuro, but Aniki had just died a few days ago, and all the tension had left him high-strung. His father's eyes had widened, before settling into downright fury.

He had slapped Senjuro across the face, and grabbed him by his hair, shaking him from side to side. He was shouting something, but Senjuro could barely listen before a blur came rushing past, and shoved father back.

Ane-ue had pulled him behind her, and stood off against Father, raising her voice louder than it's ever been in the house. Father took a step forward, as if to grab Senjuro again, and she snarled her lip at him, voice low and threatening.

She said if he puts his hands on Senjuro again she will fight him. She will throw him out the house. She will lock the doors and let him freeze and starve because she wont let him hurt him anymore.

Senjuro tried to put himself between them, but she gripped his collar and wouldn't let him move from behind her. He could only watch.

Senjuro thought Father would test her anyway, but something in her face made him stop. He had given both of them one last baleful glare, before isolating himself again.

Something violent and guilt ridden had flickered across his face, the next time Senjuro saw him, a day later when the bruise on his face was just settling down. He has not seen him since then, not until today.

It seems he's finally decided to come out of his cave.

Father scoffs, and though Ane-ue forces him to bathe and tidy his hair, his face is still shadowed by stubble, and he still slightly tilts in a drunken stupor. His clothes are still wrinkled. His eyes are still red.

There is always that flush of shame whenever Father appears before others like this, unkempt and belligerent, though Senjuro has never been able to discern who the shame really belongs to.

For once though, as he stands silent and watches his father approach, that shame settles into something small and hard, like a pearl, deep in his gut.

Why couldn't he just make himself proper for once?

"All this over one hashira. Hasn't this gone on long enough?"

"Rengoku-san was a respected Hashira, Rengoku-sama, and well beloved. Many people have come to pay their respects." Father scoffs at the short, black haired woman. Suma, Senjuro remembered. Suma-san.

"Then pay them and go. I'm tired of all you strutting about. All this fanfare." Lord Tengen's eyes widen at the audacity. He glares.

"Of course!" Shinobu-san raised an arm to block an angry Mitsuri, black fury written all over her delicate features, as well as cutting off Lord Tengen, who no doubt was about to call lightning down on the man. Though that wouldn't be enough, seeing as Obanai-san was slowly creeping up behind her.

"We'll be on our way shortly. Not all of us have given our condolences to the wife of the deceased." And Father immediately deflates. Anything that came to Ane-ue he stood away from, nowadays.

Senjuro thinks it's the same self-inflicted shame he feels whenever he's around father. The same guilt.

Father turns, but his eyes catch Senjuro's before he leaves and he already knows. It seems the guilt that kept him away from Senjuro has run out. His shoulders tense as his father storms over.

"And what have you been doing all day but weeping over your poor excuse of a brother?"

Senjuro stands firm. He has to.

"I'm playing my part, Father. I need to make sure Ane-ue doesn't work herself too hard."

"Tch. She might be with child, but your Ane-ue is a slayer. She's not weak like you are."

"...Still, I need to be there for her. I want to. And I still need to pay my final respects to Ani-ue–"

His father cuts him off with nothing more than a roll of his eyes. He feels the shame rise up again.

Bystander, soft, meek, weak. Just as you've always been.

"I'll allow it boy, since it is the funeral, but I don't want to see any more pathetic sniveling over your sorry excuse for a brother after this. He was weak anyways, of course he died."

"That is your son!" Mitsuri-chan screams, pushing past Shinobu-san and storming over to the drunken man. His sister, in all but blood, appears and pulls him over to her side. He lays his head on her shoulder, covered by his Ani-ue's haori. If he concentrated, he could pretend his scent was still there.

"How could you say that about your own son?! He's dead! Don't you have a heart?!"

Father stares down the Love Hashira, with eyes just as red as hers.

"A stupid son he was. I told him that he wouldn't make it, that he was talentless and unfit to be a hashira, but did he listen? No. He kept on with those childish dreams of his, and looked where that got him!" He spread his arms, rice wine spilling from the gourd he held.

"There is no worth in being a Hashira. There is no honor. There is no glory. It means nothing. It's nothing more than a death sentence. Especially if you're as inherently worthless as Kyojuro was." Mitsuri-chan gasped, but Father cut her off before she could speak.

"You trained under him, didn't you girl? So you've already inherited his stupidity. There's no use talking to fools like you. Aren't you supposed to be married by now?" The sudden topic change gave them whiplash. Mitsuri-chan's mouth gaped in shock, and a little outrage, and Father just continued to roll on.

"The other one has a face fit for graduation, so it's not a far stretch that she's a slayer, but were you so naively hopeful for companionship you became a slayer? Too ditzy for schooling? Too desperate after your omiai all failed? What were you hoping to aim for?"

Ane-ue rushed back to grab Obanai-San, who shot himself at Father. His eyes were dual pinpricks and he struggled against the hold she had on his waist. He sees Shinobu-san's face, set with a smile so sweet it looked like her jaw hurt. Good relations were gone. He prayed for mercy.

Mitsuri-chan, red faced, spoke very calmly, and very angrily.

"There is honor in being a Slayer, in being a Hashira, in following Kyojuro-kun's footsteps, and I'm not going to take shit from a man who can barely be bothered to get off his ass most days, much less be presentable for his own son's funeral. "

Father laughs again, and Senjuro grabs Obanai-San's arm when he tries to jerk forward again.

"Fine. Go chase your deaths if you're all so keen to follow in his footsteps, his principles. Absolutely worthless things."

"It's not worthless." Senjuro mumbled.

"Huh? What was that?" Father took a step closer, not deterred by the combined glares of everyone in attendance. He could see a few kakushi exchanging glances and murmurs amongst the background.

"If you're going to say something, then say it louder, boy!"

"I said it's not worthless! " He really needed some water. His eyes just refused to stop crying today.

For once, Father looked taken aback. Maybe it was the fact that Senjuro raised his voice, or the fact that his face was twisted into a look so miserable he couldn't pretend indifference.

Nonchalance wasn't that far off though.

"Of course. Of course not. He was righteous and noble and good and pure and whatever else you want to fucking call it. What did any of that get him but an early grave?"

"Rengoku-san is a hundred times the man you never could hope to be." Muichiro-kun cut through the fanfare with nothing more than that one sentence, turning away from the scene with a scowl. He bowed low to him and Ane-ue, before turning on his heel and leaving. No one stopped him.

"Hah!" Sanemi, the wind Hashira, broke into laughter. The skin near his eyes crinkled and his gums showed. His grin was feral. His shoulders shook.

"What a miserable old fuck you are. Rengoku-San had to deal with this? I respect him all the more for it." He laughed again, as Mitsuri-chan helped him and Ane-ue reel back Obanai-San, whose eyes were still laser focused on Father.

"This is a funeral, so I'll have some tact and not cut your tongue out. So fuck off somewhere the rest of us cant see, why don'cha? '' Lord Tengen grinned for the first time today. Father, incredulous, opens his mouth but Gyomei cuts in before he could say a word.

"That is enough. Rengoku Kyojuro was a shining light for many, for both the slayers and all the people he has saved. That does not change. He was loved and will be sorely missed by all." His weeping white eyes focused on the man.

"The ways you deal with your own grief should not bring pain on the others that share that burden."

Just for that moment, everything was silent, at a standstill. But Senjuro had taken all his brother's lessons to heart. He knew this was the final stand, the crux.

His father sighed, angry and tired.

"I would have never become a Father, if I had known the grief this would cause me. Regrets, both of you. The first one was worthless and died due to his foolishness, and this one is just a sad imitation. Too weak to become a slayer and just as talentless. If not moreso." His eyes raked over Senjuro like hot coals.

"You're the last Rengoku son left, boy. So, what can you do? What have you done? What exactly are you good for?"

Senjuro was still under his Father's eyes, hard and unflinching. He wrung his hands like a dishcloth.

His father scoffed, and half turned away with the gourd to his lips.

"Nothing, right? Yeah, I thought so too. Just as you've always been."

Senjuro knew, or at least hoped, that those earlier words were merely a defense, against a sorrowful heart. But this, this wasn't that.

Did you expect any less? Did you?

Silent, soft, weak, untalented. Just as you've always been.

Just as he's always been.

He couldn't help it, he felt his face crumple and the tears come hot and fast. He buried his face in his palms, pairs of arms wrapping around him just as quick and he couldn't tell who it was over the urge to just hide. His breaths came like punches to his chest.

He is trying. He has been trying. It's all he can do. Doesn't that at least mean something?

No. Not much.

He looked at his father, his angry disapproving eyes, and just cried harder. Like a child.

Father rolled his eyes, sighed hard.

"Always so prone to tears. So soft, so sensitive. If I didn't check at your birth, I would have thought I had a daughter and not a son. Wheres your spine boy? Your conviction? Or are you not a Rengoku?" Everyone starts screaming at him, raising their voices to be heard.

It'll dissolve into chaos soon. Kakushi start ushering out the lower ranked slayers, who checked over their shoulders in confusion, outrage-or pity.

Shame wells up again, threatens to pull him under, chokes him like smoke. It shocks him how viciously it curls in his chest. Meanwhile his Father argues with the Hashira, smiling wider in the face of their growing anger. Ane-ue's face is red as she yells. His hands shake.

He couldn't say anything, to defend himself. Was he always going to be this meek? Always falling short of some mark? What does he lack? What can he do?

That he hasn't already done, what is enough? What will be enough?

Senjurou thought he would just leave, some point proven, self-righteous and vindictive and bitter. But Senjuro remembered that embers burn long, hot and searing. You don't turn your back to a demon without cutting its head off first.

And his Father seemed ready to cut him to pieces.

"Listen Senjuro, this is just the way of the world. You accept it or it breaks you. You're a worthless, untalented son because Kyojuro was a worthless untalented son and he rubbed off on you. The only difference is that you've accepted it." Senjuro shook his head furiously, because no. Just no. He was wrong. He had to be. Father sighed, long and slow.

"Maybe Kyojuro did accept it. Sometimes, I wonder whether Kyojuro knew his own worthlessness, and chose to die because of it. Maybe death was preferableto such a wretched state of being. I know he was tired. "

His breath stopped.

...What?

Senjuro's eyes widened, staring at his father in something like horror. His voice came out strangled and high pitched.

"What??What?! Why would say that?! Why would you say that?! Why would you say that?!!"

His sobs took on a panicked, frantic edge, he shook his head furiously. His vision blurred.

How dare he.

His brother would never.

Gasps and shouts of outrage filled the air, but not before Shinjurou just shrugged.

"I just hope the next one has some common sense. But, knowing his father, he'll turn out just the same hopeless--" a smack, and Senjuro looked up from the arms surrounding him.

Father looked stunned for a moment before Ane-ue rolled back and punched him in the face again.

Father stumbled back, put a hand to his face, where his nose was crooked and leaking blood. He looked torn between shock and outrage.

"...Have you lost your mind woman?! How dare you-"

"How dare I? How dare I?!" Ane-ue rushed forward and punched him in the face again. Father stumbled.

Senjuro noticed he was shocked out of his reverie, and he was slowly breathing steady again. He saw who the arms wrapped around him belonged to. Mitsuri-chan and two of Lord Tengen's wives, the blonde lady (Makio-san) standing in front with Shinobu-san, and Obanai-San, all looking ready to murder.

Briefly, he saw that Giyuu-san had his hand on his blade, and veins were popping out on Tengen-san and Gyomei'-san's foreheads. Sanemi-san already had his blade fully drawn.

"You come here, in a drunken stupor, and try to undermine everything Kyojuro stood for. You mock our mourning, like its all a joke to you. You make a fool out of yourself, dishonor the Rengoku name, antagonize your last son, and furthermore, you have the gall to try and mock our child? Who hasn't even been born yet?! The audacity!!"

"Audacity? What audacity have I?! The audacity you have, to strike me? You may be a fresh widow, but I'll have no tolerance for this level of disrespect."

"Disrespect?! Disrespect?! " She screamed. Senjuro could hear Sanemi-san break down in laughter in the background.

"I am the head of the Rengoku household. I–" She barked a laugh.

"No you're not."

"Excuse you?"

"I said 'no, you're not.' "

For the first time, Senjuro saw his father splutter, and before he could collect himself Ane-ue marched on.

"You stopped being the head of your household when you stopped being a father to Kyojurou. To Senjuro. When you quit being a Hashira and left your son to pick up after your slack. When you had isolated yourself and let your sons fend for themselves. When you became so stewed in your own misery, you didn't spare a thought to the two boys mourning the both of you because they didn't just lose their mother," Ane-ue spat her fury.

"They lost their father too and had to live with this angry shadow of one, in that house you made a tomb. Aren't you ashamed? Look at yourself!! Don't you have anything to say for yourself? Don't you think your sons deserved a better love than this?"

Ane-ue waited for an answer, but Father just stood there, mouth shut. Her arms fell to her sides with a smack.

"Don't you think they deserved a better love than this?" Father didn't answer, he was silent and her eyes flitted over his face for some answer. She almost looked ready to punch him again. But whatever she found there made her sober up.

Ane-ue wore Ani-ue's haori, carrying the mantle on her shoulders. Her back straightened, and she lifted her chin high. The Rengoku were flames after all. It made sense that she was the hearth of their home.

"If you don't have anything to say then just go. Don't we already have enough misery to deal with?" And, shockingly enough, Father did. He merely took a drink from his gourd, long and deep as if to spite them all, and he left.

She just stared at his retreating back until he left, and when he was finally gone, she collapsed down in tears, falling to her knees.

This time Senjuro did not hesitate. He broke free from the women and ran to his sister, (what else could he do?) who as always opened her arms for him to fall into. The hug was tight and desperate and exactly what they needed, and he squeezed her back with the same force.

Lord Tengen approached them first.

"My estate is large enough to house the two of you, no problem. We could have rooms set up for you tonight, for as long as you need."

"We could look over you two." Hinatsuru-san popped in, with a gentle smile and gentle eyes.

"And we could take care of you as you progress, Rengoku-san. Make sure you're safe and comfortable."

Ane-ue had to stop her breath from hitching a few times, quieting down her sobs to hiccups. Her shoulders still shook.

"Thank you for your extreme kindness, but I cannot accept it. If Senjuro wants to go though–"

"No. No. I'm staying with you. Wherever you go, I go." She patted down his hair.

"Then perhaps the Love estate? They are closest to Mitsuri-chan."

"Or the butterfly estate! That way, Shinobu-chan can check on them more often!"

"If you want to get away, somewhere far away then I can arrange it. I'll house you." The most shocking offer came from Giyuu-san, the recluse himself. He looked tense and withdrawn, and there was a pinch to his face that spelled either annoyance or anger. Senjuro could glean enough that he wasn't upset with them, per se.

Ane-ue laughed, but shook her head to all offers.

"Everyone, I can't thank you enough for your generosity. But, we will be returning to the Rengoku estate."

Shouts of "Why?!" And "Like hell!" Or simply "No!" Were all shouted out at once. She chuckled again, a little lighter. Senjuro sighed into her shoulder.

"Kyojuro never stopped coming back to the estate because it was still so dear to him. He had his family, and all the precious memories he had before of a happy home."

"Then why do you want to go back? You've got none of that." Sanemi-san had already slipped his sword into its sheath.

Ane-ue stroked his hair. Her breath was calm now.

"No, I do. That was the home that Kyojuro welcomed me in so readily when I was but a stranger. The home he trained us in, the home I cooked for them in, the home we returned to when Kyojurou and I made our vows. I have many fond and precious memories of that home, and his bitterness will not taint that.

"But if Senjuro doesn't want us to, we won't." Senjuro thought for a moment, but shook his head.

"No, no, let's go back. Aniki…wouldn't want us to abandon our home. " She smiled, and while he didn't feel any better, while the weight of grief didn't lessen, his chest felt clearer than it did in a while.

Meek. Soft spined. Bystander.

Disappointment.

He could deal with those later. He just wanted to rest.

"Any one of us, all our homes are always open for you two." Ane-ue took Gyomei's hands, and the two smiled tearfully at the other. Obanai-san reached over and helped them rise, a gentle look back in his dual colored eyes.

"If he does anything to harm the two of you, then run. You're not obligated to stay." Ane-ue smiles at him.

"Like how you're not obligated to defend Mitsuri-chan's honor?" Senjuro didn't know if the red on his face was a flush or left over anger. Obanai-san coughs.

"No, that's different." His sister laughs.

"Thank you for your kindness, everyone. It is so greatly appreciated." Ane-ue and Senjuro bowed, and when he rose, he stood as straight his brother had taught him.

He was the last Rengoku son, inheritor to his brother's legacy, at least for now. At least until his nephew has been born and his sister has recovered and together, they could teach him everything his father had trained and bled and lived and died for.

He just had to be more. He had to be better.

I have a personal headcanon that Shinjuro finds Lady Shinobu creepy and not at all pretty, mainly due to her pupil-less, mirror like eyes. And that sweet attitude to mask all the anger. 'A face fit for graduation' was an insult given to women in this time period, who did (or could) not marry early (late teens early twenties) and continued their education. Hence why he asked Mitsuri why she wasn't married yet, as well.

Part two is also here folks

Notes:

Women have not been born into the Rengoku household for hundred of years, so Senjuro and Shinjuro automatically assume the baby will be a boy.

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