A Crack In The Wall / Giyuu X Sanemi/ Sanegiyuu

Chapter 16

Chapter 16: *Whispers in the Rain*

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The rain fell in a gentle cadence, tapping against the makeshift roof of their shelter. Sanemi and Giyu sat side by side, the space between them charged with unspoken tension. The air was thick with anticipation, and neither dared to break the silence.

Sanemi shifted, his fingers tracing the rough texture of the wooden floor. He cleared his throat, the words catching like thorns. "So about our relationship now... what does it make us?" His voice wavered, revealing vulnerability he hadn't intended.

Giyu's gaze remained fixed on the raindrops outside. He didn't answer immediately, the seconds stretching into eternity. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost lost in the rhythm of the rain. "What is it that you want?"

Sanemi's heart clenched. Mix signals—yes, he'd been guilty of that. Their interactions swung between heated arguments and stolen glances, leaving him dizzy and uncertain. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just... I can't stop thinking about you."

Giyu turned to face him, eyes like storm clouds. "And what if I told you I feel the same way?" His admission hung in the air, fragile and raw.

Sanemi leaned in, closing the gap between them. His lips brushed against Giyu's, a tentative connection that ignited a wildfire within. They kissed, the world narrowing down to the taste of rain and the warmth of each other. It was desperate, hungry—a revelation.

When they finally pulled away, Sanemi's breaths came in ragged bursts. He cupped Giyu's face, his thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. "I've never felt like this before," he whispered.

Giyu's hand found Sanemi's, their fingers intertwining. "Me neither," he confessed. "But we can't keep pretending."

Sanemi nodded, his heart pounding. "No more mixed signals," he vowed. "Just... us."

They left the shelter, rain-soaked and unsteady, but their hands remained clasped. Back at Sanemi's place, they took turns washing up, the intimacy of the act both thrilling and terrifying. When they settled into Sanemi's bed, exhaustion tugging at their bones, it felt like surrender.

Giyu's breathing evened out, and Sanemi watched him—the man who had become both his anchor and his tempest. The rain continued its soft lullaby outside, and Sanemi closed his eyes, fingers still entwined with Giyu's.

In that quiet darkness, they discovered something profound—a love that defied logic, a vulnerability that transcended their roles as demon slayers. They slept, cocooned in each other's warmth, and for the first time, Sanemi dreamed of a future where they could be more than allies.

*Whispers in the rain,* he thought, as sleep claimed him. *Maybe that's where our story begins.*

Sanemi stumbled through the darkness, blood-slicked and desperate. The scent of death clung to him, and he called out for Giyu, his voice echoing in the void. But Giyu was nowhere to be found. Panic clawed at Sanemi's chest as he searched, the rain now replaced by a suffocating blackness.

Then, like a cruel twist of fate, he woke up. His heart raced, and he gasped for air, disoriented. The dream—the nightmare—had felt too real. Giyu stirred beside him, concern etching lines on his face. "Sanemi," he murmured, reaching out. "Are you okay?"

Sanemi's throat tightened. "It was just a dream," he managed, his voice hoarse. "But it felt so damn real."

Giyu's touch was soothing, grounding. "You're safe," he whispered. "We're both safe."

They lay back down, tangled in the sheets, the remnants of the nightmare fading. Sanemi listened to Giyu's steady breathing, the rhythm of life that anchored him. Maybe it was foolish, but he wanted to believe that Giyu's presence could chase away the shadows.

When Sanemi woke again, the room was bathed in soft morning light. Giyu wasn't in bed. Sanemi sat up, rubbing his eyes, and scanned the room. The sound of clinking utensils drew him to the kitchen.

There, Giyu stood, shirtless, sleeves rolled up, cooking breakfast. The sight was both domestic and surreal. Sanemi's stomach rumbled, and he quickly sat down at the table. "What's on the menu?" he teased.

Giyu glanced over, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Rice porridge," he replied. "And some pickled vegetables."

Sanemi dug in, the warmth of the food chasing away the lingering chill from his dream. "Not bad," he said between bites. "You're a better cook than I expected."

Giyu's cheeks flushed. "I've had practice," he admitted. "Back at the Water Hashira's estate."

Sanemi leaned back, savoring the flavors. "You know," he said, "you should put your hair up. It's getting in the way."

Giyu's hand went to his unruly hair, and he hesitated. "Oh yeah, Your right I'll do it in a minute." 

Sanemi grinned. "Leave it to me." He stood behind Giyu, fingers deftly gathering the dark strands. "There," he said, securing the hair tie. "Perfect."

Giyu turned to face him, eyes soft. "Thank you."

They dressed in their demon slayer uniforms, the familiar weight of their swords a comforting presence. As they stepped outside, Sanemi noticed the change—the way Giyu's gaze lingered, the shared smiles that spoke of something unspoken.

The master, Ubuyashiki, watched them from a distance, his expression approving. Shinobu and Obanai exchanged knowing glances. The tension that had once defined their interactions was gone, replaced by something deeper, more fragile.

Sanemi and Giyu walked side by side, their steps in sync. Maybe it was too early to call it love, but it was something—a connection forged in blood and shadows, whispered promises in the rain. They faced demons together, their swords singing a duet of survival.

And as the sun climbed higher, Sanemi allowed himself to hope. Maybe this was their chance—a new beginning. Maybe they could be more than demon slayers, more than allies. Maybe they could find solace in each other's arms, even when the nightmares threatened to consume them.

For now, they walked, and the world held its breath. Sanemi stole a glance at Giyu, and Giyu met his eyes. There was no need for words. They understood.

Everything seemed to be back to normal—or maybe even better than before.

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Authors note: and so, their story continued—a delicate dance between duty and desire, between whispered confessions and shared breakfasts. also I know ubuyashiki is blind so he's just watching them with his ears if u get what I mean lol