kny x !fem reader drabbles

Kyojuro ♢ Live For Me

a/n: Starting strong with some angst, but WARNING - this contains spoilers for the Mugen train arc. PLEASE do not read it if you don't want to be spoiled!

☽･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･☾

☽･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･☾

"If you get injured again, I'm not patching you up! You know I hate to see you all beat up," Y/N huffs as she continues to clip large, wet sheets onto the clotheslines behind Kyojuro's estate. Wiping her hands on the apron binding her waist, she sighs.

"Just..." Y/N's hands clutch the fabric of her kimono, eyes glued to her feet. "Please come back to us Kyo. Please."

Large, worn hands cup her cheeks to lift her head.

As their gazes meet, Kyojuro whispers, "My love... you know that no matter what happens, I will do my best to live." Thumbs gently caressing Y/N's face, he leans in until their foreheads are touching.

"For you."

☽･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･☾

Y/N shuffles through the large estate, sweeping and tidying up for when her partner returns. Glancing at the sky, she frowns. "I should get going to the market if I want to cook tonight," she mumbles to herself.

Nimbly, she loosens the apron and slips it over her head. Calling out to Senjuro, she announces her departure.

The streets of Ouwohana were bustling with conversation. Y/N picks up on some light banter between old friends, as well as old couples arguing about which noren (curtains) will match the colors of their house better.

Squeezing through the crowd, a merchant catches her eye. As she weaves her way around people, she listens to his advertisement,

"Best on the market, come get a hand-crafted, hand-painted bento box! Only 300 yen!"

Walking up to the stand, she draws in a sharp breath. "Arienai..."

In front of her are possibly the most exquisitely painted boxes she's ever seen. As she gapes at his art, the merchant puffs out his chest like a child.

"I should have you know that my wife painted all of these herself," he boasts. The adoration in his eyes is evident as Y/N glances at him. "You must be quite the lucky man then," she grins.

Chuckling to himself, he points at a large box hidden in the corner. "You know, my Rie made a set specially for our anniversary. It's my favorite and she knows. But she insisted on selling it." Reaching into the box, he gently lifts an expertly painted bento into the light.

Swirls of deep blue and gold created the illusion of clouds, inviting and tranquil in the sky. In the middle of the box was a plum blossom tree, with breathtakingly small flowers covering the branches and being carried in the wind. And perched on the tree was a glorious white heron, looking out into the night.

"I don't need to see the other box to understand why it's your favorite," Y/N smiles.

"I made a deal with her though. If the set goes three nights without selling, I can keep it." He sighs and shakes his head. "Rie's too sweet for her own good, so when she set up our stall today, she hid it from any potential customers."