Don't cry. Don't cry from something so stupid.
But it was hard.
Despite all the adrenaline that ran through your veins, the agony made you want to kick and scream like a child. The wounds weren't going numb as you'd hoped; rather, they became more sensitive as time ticked by. Even the wind brushing past your open wounds felt like daggers under your skin.
Moreover, you were so exhausted...
"You did a good job holding out until I got here."
The Demon Slayer who'd saved you was calm, collected. His dark eyes betrayed no fury -- the control he had over his body told you he was efficient, and quite skilled.
...If being collapsed on the ground, nearly cut into pieces, is your idea of a good job, then, yeah. I suppose we did.
Of course, you didn't say that. Not that you even had the energy to.
"Leave the rest to me," he said, stepping between you and Tanjiro and the demon.
You heard something in Rui snap even further.
"You're like an endless stream of lowlifes, always getting in my way!"
Hundreds of gleaming, ruby threads materialized like a curved barrier in front of him. They closed in until the only way you could see him was through a small hole in the woven wall.
"Blood Demon Art: Cutting Thread Rotation!"
He splayed his hands out. Instantly the threads obeyed, stretching, moving, expanding, with the intent to pierce and slice the swordsman within the span of one second.
"Full-Focused Breathing."
Though his back was towards you, it didn't stop you from watching the change in his positioning. But something was off. He used Water Breathing techniques, and yet... this stance was unfamiliar.
I know all of the Water Breathing techniques, thanks to my mother, but what is this?
He lowered his Nichirin Sword, touching the point to the barren earth.
"Breath of Water, Eleventh Form:
Dead Calm."
You felt your pulse quicken.
Tanjiro said your thoughts aloud. "Eleventh Form?!" He had created his own.
As the tight net of threads rushed towards him, the cloth of his haori rustled the slightest bit as he picked the edge of his blade up off the ground.
You blinked,
and the threads were gone.
His weapon had returned to its former position -- as if it hadn't moved at all. Its user was untouched.
The revelation of the Eleventh Form took Rui by surprise. It was obvious he hadn't expected such an outcome. The strongest threads in his possession were scattered, cleared away into mere whispers of their former selves.
An agitated growl rose up in his throat.
"That's impossible. One more time--!"
Though, he was never given a chance.
The Demon Slayer stepped forward and struck with his sword, lopping Rui's head off with almost no effort. He swung his blade again to rid it of blood and sheathed it.
He didn't even look back.
"(Y/n)," Tanjiro croaked. "We're okay, so... you can get up now."
You gave a little, humorless laugh, which hurt your cracked ribs. Your vision darkened terribly as you tried to move off him but somehow you managed to do so without passing out. You knelt there, panting, still in awe of the swordsman in front of you.
"N-Nezuko... How is she?"
"...Fine..."
It was getting harder to concentrate on your conversation. Before you could say anything else, the dizziness overtook you, sending you to the ground with a thud.
"(Y/n)!"
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to disperse your nausea, to control your pain, to block out those memories that screamed at you to be seen again.
He touched your shoulder lightly, making you wince. You heard his breath catch.
"You-You're bleeding. But this wound's so deep, how did--"
Soft footsteps approached, most likely belonging to the swordsman.
"She took the hit for you. You're lucky to be alive -- so is she, with her being in such a state."
Tanjiro replied, but your ears didn't pick up on what he said. His words were drowned out by your noisy heartbeat.
You felt his hand on your cheek.
How tender.
Ah...
Sleep pulled at your consciousness, and it had started to give in.
Is it okay to sleep...
Surely it was, right?
He was by your side --
That's all that mattered.
• • * • • * • • * • •
For the next few days, you dipped in and out of consciousness, wracked with a tenacious fever. Of course, you hadn't remembered much of that time at all, nor Tanjiro's quiet, protective presence beside you.
At last, your eyelids fluttered open.
You were lying all alone in a small room, a bed made of comfortable down easing the pain from your exhausted muscles. For some reason you were lying on your side -- touching a hand to your back, you found it wrapped securely in bandages. They were clean.
How long have I been here for? Where's Tanjiro and the others?
You struggled to sit up, pushing up on your elbows. It was then you realized you were shirtless. The bandages on your back indeed covered your midriff and your breasts. A few of the them reached around your shoulders, and you found that more adhesive ones dotted the rest of your maimed body.
A hair tie rested on your wooden bedside table, so you grabbed it, messily tied your hair back, and swung out your legs so they dangled over the edge of the bed, wincing with the effort.
You noticed an empty chair that faced the bed, as if it'd been occupied.
A blue tone, button-up hospital gown hung off the edge of the railing at the foot of the bed. You grabbed that as well, hastily slipping it on and landing on the matted floor. Your own weight nearly took you to the ground; your muscles were still tired, and quite unaccustomed to moving.
The wooden door in the far left corner of the room opened slowly, the hand which had opened it none other than Tanjiro's.
He, too, was in hospital wear, and thankfully seemed to be in much better shape than yourself.
Your whole body shook as you gave a sigh of relief.
Good.
He was quick to rush to your side and gently eased you back onto the bed.
"You shouldn't be up and moving," he worried as he crouched to your level, eyebrows furrowed. His burgundy eyes, which had been furious the last you'd seen them, were trained intently on yours, all traces of hostility gone.
Absentmindedly, you touched the scar on his forehead.
He flinched and drew back, cheeks tinged with a soft pink hue.
"Seriously..."
To hide his blush, he leaned in and gently pulled you into a hug, burying his face in the nook between your neck and shoulder.
His soft hair tickled. Your own face began to heat up involuntarily, but you ignored it -- no, accepted it.
Those were your feelings.
No matter how hard you may try, they wouldn't change so easily.
...I guess being selfish is one of my specialties.
In that moment, you felt that only you and Tanjiro existed in the entire universe. He was your salvation, your anchor to reality.
You could only wish that you'd helped Tanjiro as much as he'd helped you.
"Don't do that ever again," he murmured, breath tickling your skin. "Do you understand me?"
The wounds on your back ached in memory of when you'd received them. They were deep gashes which cost you a lot of blood and energy, but in the end, the sacrifice was well worth it.
"I make no promises," you responded lightly, hugging him tighter.
He's more important to you than anything in the world.
Never let him go.
• • * • • * • • * • •
•* Tidbits *•
#115 - The demons of the spider family all went to Hell, where Rui, upon remembering his humanity, asked them for their forgiveness.
#116 - It took a long while, but they gave it in the end.
#117 - You we're out for five days. Tanjiro spent one of them resting himself, and spent the other four by your side. When it got late, he'd often lay his head on the bed and sleep.
#118 - Whenever you had nightmares, he'd hold your hand and let you squeeze his.
• • * • • * • • * • •