FORGIVING [tomioka giyuu]

four

Today is, tiring. The sun scorched his sleeping form as Giyuu tried to sleep longer, but the heavens were warning him.

He couldn't find the white leg gear of his uniform, the hakama brushing his ankles as he tied on the sandals. He doesn't even try to find them, leaving him with no real accomplishments.

Head completely submerged underneath the sea, sword tucked into its sheath elegantly and haori shielding his body from the bitter air. Giyuu is empty, desolate as he remembers how he had read letters from Urokodaki— the elder asking about his health and state.

His crow seemed to whimper when he has erupted into tears, spilled congee and tear-infused miso soup. Giyuu has nearly thrown up his breakfast from how much he was sobbing. Mentally scorning himself for being a bigger crybaby that even Zenitsu, the man hugged his knees close— trying to cage his emotions back in.

Years, it had been years since someone had asked how he was doing.

Yet with the sticky congee on his table, he was now doing worse.

Legs felt like jelly as he walked, eyes dead-focused on whatever was in front of his tranced-vision. Fists clenching and unclenching, veins twitching as he pushed down that inevitable feeling of bubbling despair. His ears felt plugged, only the sounds of wind reached his eardrums— lips flat in an obvious attempt to not cry.

A small sound, gentle cry. It sounded soft, pained.

On the ground, is a cold and pained sparrow. It's brown and beige feathers were tousled with dried mud, shaking in what is assumed to be a chilly manner, helplessly on the dirt.

"Ah." Giyuu simply let out, crouching down to scoop up the bird. The small sparrow lets out a quiet hum, accepting the help.

It easily welcomed the Water Hashira's surprisingly warm hands, molding into a soft and round shape in his palms as it warmed up. Giyuu could only watch as it snuggled into his thumb, cute little beak as it let out a gentle 'chu'.

"There is a stone stove at my estate," the Hashira spoke to the bird, "we can properly warm you up there."

Giyuu hopes it sounded like a question, nervous fidgeting in his fingers since literally no one has been in his state. It sounds embarrassing, but dust has been collecting and the gigantic space of the home was left empty to the souls that used to live within it.

Then the Hashira remembers; that he's never had disciples.

Walking back to the estate, he wonders why he's never taken in any students. Then he remembers Tanjirou's face, a gentle small face. He had put all his hope that Tanjirou would be the next Water Hashira, the better Giyuu. He had hoped for it to be solved with Tanjirou; his depression, his sadness, his burden, everything. 

There seemed to be no reason to speak to the animal, but it let out tweets of thankfulness as Giyuu held the animal against his chest— its fluttering form shaking as he began wrapping it in the warm fabric of his haori.

Usually animals would avoid him like the plague; but this sparrow looked almost at peace within Giyuu's space. It was refreshing. 

The Water Hashira paused his steps, the small sparrow letting out a curious "chu" at the man's sudden actions. Tanjirou was everything, his solution to everything that grew like a toxic lump on Giyuu's back. Would he have been happy with that though? 

"Am.. am I happy with that?" Giyuu murmured, mostly to himself as the animal shook in his warm grasp. 

The Hashira knows the happy expressions on his friend's face when the boy sees him, sees anyone. Giyuu knows how much Tanjirou puts into that Fire Dance he's mastering, he understands how determined he is to cure Nezuko. 

"Am I happy with that?" No, he really isn't happy with that. He isn't happy with the fact that the best option is gone, and it's left on Giyuu's shoulders once again. So he holds the small bird close and mourns over what would never be, he lets his breath stutter over what could've been. Yet Tanjirou has way more ahead of him— way better than what should've been. 

He drags his feet back to the miserable home, sneezing on dust the minute the door is open. It's decided, "I'll clean." The man declares this with a hand in his palm, blue eyes determined to tidy up the less-shiny floors and dusty curtains. 

He hadn't done this in years, too busy in a vegetative state of mind to even care of his own home. Yet there's a new thrill. He has company now, he needs to make the house clean for not only himself, but for his company. Whether it's birds or actual people, Giyuu rushes towards the neglected closet of cleaning utensils. 

From a small cushion near the now heated-stone stove, the small sparrow chirps in agreement as Giyuu's own crow hops around the new being. They look like they'd be great friends, at least to Giyuu. 

Then again, he has no friends. The Water Hashira doesn't need to remind himself of this though, but his apron is tied too tight and he grips the duster too strongly. He begins in the kitchen; fluttering the feathered tool around the ceilings and even on some shelves, slightly disgusted at the amount that makes his nose tickle. The two birds make a small noise every time he lets out a sneeze, suspiciously sounding like a "bless you!" Soon enough, a water bucket and worn cloth appears and the two birds watch the man scrub the floor clean of fallen dust or dirt; Giyuu scrubbing significantly harder in some rougher patches in the wood. 

Dinner comes fast, but only for his company. The crow happily plucks at the seeds offered to him and the sparrow, the latter choosing to peck at the sunflower seeds with a curious attitude. 

His human never gave him the bigger type of seeds, like peanuts or typical bird feed. Yet he'd have to try and communicate it to him when he finds him, because the sparrow is left just as replenished as the crow by the time Giyuu's finished the fifth room; dust in his hair and dirt on his pale face. Yet what surprises the sparrow is the tear tracks wetting the Water Hashira's cheeks.

He's about to chirp in questioning, but the older crow outstretches a wing to grab the sparrow back. 

"I.. I did it." Is all that comes out of the crying man. He had successfully did something other than patrol, and it made him feel satisfied—joyous. Through the tears and sobs, Giyuu tries to get his placid lips to curl. I did it. 

Zenitsu is pleasantly surprised to see Chuntaro refuse the usual sunflower seeds to instead chirp happily at him, hobbling around the blonde boy's hospital bed as if talking about it's day. Hell, Zenitsu could even see the flowers around the bird's head as it lets out "chu" and "cha" and "tweeps".

Urokodaki is surprised when Giyuu's crow actually shows up with a letter, once-in-a blue moon. The animal watches the elder read the paper and even with that oni mask, surprise is evident in his features when it's quite little. 

"'I cleaned up the estate. It was fulfilling.'"