Us || Sanegiyuu

Chapter 13

As hours turned into days, Giyuu found himself unable to sleep properly. Each time he closed his eyes, the image of Sanemi filled his mind, leaving him tossing and turning in his bed. He couldn't get the sight of Sanemi's pained expression out of his head, his own heart clenching painfully at the thought of the man he loved hating him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't bring himself to eat much either, which only heightened his fatigue and despair.

Sanemi spent every waking moment drowning himself in anger. His fist repeatedly hit the target he had set up, but even that couldn't ease the twisting, aching pain in his chest. Images of Giyuu flooded his mind, each time bringing fresh waves of guilt and shame. Despite his efforts, he couldn't stop thinking about Giyuu. Even as he trained every muscle in his body, his heart yearned for the other.

The days and weeks passed, Sanemi and Giyuu both found themselves struggling even more with their own emotions. Their paths crossed again and again, but both men were too stubborn and prideful to admit their true feelings to each other. The tension and longing between them deepened, leaving both men feeling more tormented than ever before.

With every passing day, the situation between them only grew more and more complicated. The tension between them was so thick that it seemed like they might explode at any moment. Words were exchanged, insults hurled, and the hurt was palpable in the air. Even when they were alone, they were unable to escape the feeling of emptiness and longing that haunted them. Despite their best efforts, they couldn't ignore the ache in their hearts that yearned for each other.

The stress and strain of keeping their emotions locked away was beginning to take a toll on both men. Neither man was sleeping well, their thoughts consumed by the other and the tumultuous emotions they were determined to ignore. Their mutual stubbornness only served to make their situation worse, creating a vicious cycle of denial and frustration.

Sanemi had always prided himself on being strong and unyielding, but the constant warring of his heart was slowly eroding his determination. He couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt and shame, he knew he was wrong but the idea of going to the other and actually talking things out and apologising sounded too terrifying, he had no idea what he would say.

Giyuu, on the other hand, was fighting a losing battle with his own feelings. He had convinced himself that his anger and hurt were justified, but deep down, he knew he was being unfair. He missed Sanemi desperately, craving the other man's presence in a way he couldn't adequately describe.

Despite their internal struggles, they carried on with life the best they could. Giyuu continued his duties, while Sanemi threw himself into his own missions. They were both haunted by the memory of their broken relationship and the pain they had caused each other, but they pushed through the heartache, determined to carry on. Because they couldn't afford to let their feelings spill knowing that this all was temporary and they'd go different ways after this contract has ended.

On one fine afternoon, Sanemi made his way into the forest with no destination, with only one thing in mind, to release his pent up frustration through training. It has become his routine now.

He unsheathed his katana and took a defensive stance, staring at the empty air around him. He began to move, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. He grunted with each movement, each strike fueled by the anger bubbling beneath his skin.

With each slash and swing of the blade, Sanemi poured all his agony into the motions, his blade a blur in the afternoon light. He fought against invisible enemies, against the demons of his own heart. With each strike, he felt a little less frustrated, a little less trapped by his own feelings.

Hours passed, the sun slowly sinking below the horizon. Sanemi's body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his chest heaving with exertion. He finally lowered his sword, panting and swiping at the beads of sweat trickling down his face.