Amnesia: The Taste Of Solitude (SaneGiyuu)

Chapter Four

The next morning came far too early for Giyuu, as the pale light of dawn filtered through the thin curtains in the guest bedroom. He groaned softly, rubbing his eyes and turning over in bed, willing himself to sleep a little longer. But his body, so used to the early demands of a Hashira's routine, was awake and unwilling to cooperate with his sleepy brain.

After a few more minutes of futile resistance, Giyuu finally sat up, running a hand through his unruly hair. The guest room was quiet—too quiet, in fact. He had grown used to the subtle background noise of the stream by his estate. But here, in Sanemi's home, the silence was deafening. He sighed, dressing quickly before padding down the hall, hoping a cup of tea would help wake him up fully.

As he made his way toward the kitchen, Giyuu couldn't help but wonder if Sanemi was already up. It wouldn't surprise him if the Wind Hashira had been awake for hours already, probably doing some kind of intense training routine. Sanemi was never one to sit still for long.

When Giyuu finally reached the kitchen, the sound of sizzling greeted him. There, standing at the stove, was Sanemi, frying up what looked like eggs, his hair still slightly messy from sleep. He hadn't noticed Giyuu enter yet, and for a moment, Giyuu stood in the doorway, watching. There was something oddly domestic about seeing Sanemi in this setting—barefoot, in his Hashira uniform but with a 'loose than normal' shirt over top, making breakfast like any normal person. It was almost jarring, considering Sanemi's usual rough-and-tumble demeanor.

Sanemi suddenly turned, catching sight of Giyuu in the doorway. "Well, well," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Look who decided to join the living. Thought you'd sleep the whole day away."

Giyuu blinked, startled out of his thoughts. "It's still early."

"Yeah, for normal people. For us? It's practically noon." Sanemi smirked, flipping an egg in the pan with a practiced flick of his wrist. "Want some?"

Giyuu nodded slowly, moving toward the table and sitting down. "Thanks."

As Sanemi worked at the stove, the silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable but not entirely easy either. Giyuu wasn't sure if he should say something—make small talk, perhaps—but before he could decide, Sanemi beat him to it.

"So," Sanemi began, his tone casual but with a hint of mischief, "what were you doing staring out your window at me last night? Thought I wouldn't notice?"

Giyuu nearly choked on the air he'd just inhaled, his cheeks flushing a light pink. "I wasn't staring at you," he said quickly, too quickly.

Sanemi snorted, clearly amused. "Right. Sure you weren't. Must've been real interested in the curtains then."

Giyuu glared at him, though it lacked any real heat. "I was just... thinking."

"Uh-huh." Sanemi set a plate of eggs in front of Giyuu, grinning as he slid into the chair across from him. "Thinking about how good I look in moonlight, right?"

Giyuu rolled his eyes, grabbing a fork and poking at the eggs. "You're insufferable."

"You love it," Sanemi shot back, smirking.

Despite himself, Giyuu let out a soft huff of amusement, shaking his head. It was strange how easily Sanemi could get under his skin, and yet... he didn't really mind. In fact, it was kind of refreshing. The tension that had built up in him since he arrived yesterday seemed to ease, at least a little.

As they ate in relative silence, the clatter of dishes and the occasional scraping of forks filled the room. Giyuu couldn't help but notice that the tension between them was always there, like a current running just beneath the surface. It was subtle, sometimes barely noticeable, but it was there—an unspoken thing that neither of them acknowledged outright.