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Sanemi's pov. 

The morning had arrived and the sun paid no mercy to Sanemi's eyes. He blinked his eyes slowly adjusting the light, feeling that his neck had a sort of uncomfortable twinge to it. His head was laying on something soft, something fluffy. He was still dazed from waking up, not aware if he was dreaming or if it was reality. He smelled a sweet scent in the air, but couldn't locate where it came from. 

"It smells nice." He whispered to himself, feeling drunk from the light. 

"Shinazugawa...um."

"Hmm?"

"Your head..."

"My wha-?"

Reality had hit. He was laying on Giyuu's head, memories flashed in an instant. He slowly glanced over to his right side. Sanemi's eyes bulged with surprise. He quickly jolted his head straight, jumping away in embarrassment. 

"Shit! What the fuck? I- "

"Let's report back to Oyakata-sama, Shinazugawa."

"Well ah, yeah. No shit."

Sanemi's mind swarm in a wave of relief. He silently thanked Giyuu for changing the topic. He wanted to strangle himself from the memory of falling asleep on the Water Pillar, the person he loathed the most. 

How could I fucking possibly let myself do that? No matter how tired I am! Fuck! This will possibly be engraved in his memory for a long fucking time! AHHHGG!!

"Let's go."

They exited the house with Sanemi leading in the front. The old woman was still lying on the dirty ground. 

"Tomioka, Tomioka. Leaving extra work to do. You can't just leave a fucking old lady outside! She looks like she's going to die. We kill demons here, not humans."

"I apologize."

"Too late. Come on and help me."

Sanemi knew he could have picked up the woman himself from his first sight of her. In true honesty, all he wanted to do was yell at Giyuu, to get some weight off his shoulder. 

They carried the woman into the house, examining if she needed any medical needs. They concluded she needed none and headed onto the road leading to Headquarters.  

On their travel back, there was nothing but the sound of the birds chirping, trees swaying, and their rushed soft footsteps in the gravel. Sanemi swore and swore in silence, scanning his memories repeatedly. He remembered wrapping up Giyuu's wound. Giyuu's bare neck, muscles, scent, marked the memory in his head. He shook it off and gnawed at his teeth, his face blushed a slight red tint. 

"Shinazugawa. Are you sick? Your face is red."

"What? No!"

Giyuu nodded and turned his head away. His eyes fixed onto his feet. 

Was he looking at me this whole time? Wait. Why should I fucking care about that? Shit. My face is red? This is so humiliating! 




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