Where The Cherry Blossoms Bloom //Sanegiyuu

Shizuka: Utsuroi

Shinazugawa's tears had long dried, leaving a dull ache in his chest. He stared at the half-empty basket of ohagi, feeling exposed and unsettled by the emotions he'd just let slip.

The room was eerily quiet, but before he could get lost in his thoughts again, another knock echoed through the house. His head jerked up, his brow furrowing.

"Tanjiro, if you forgot something, I swear—" he growled, stomping to the door.

But when he yanked it open, it wasn't Tanjiro standing there. It was Tomioka.

Shinazugawa froze, blinking at the sight of the Water Hashira standing stiffly on his doorstep. Tomioka's arms were crossed awkwardly, his gaze fixed somewhere off to the side, as though he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"What the hell do you want?" Shinazugawa snapped, his voice harsher than he'd meant.

Tomioka shifted uncomfortably but didn't look away. "I wanted to make sure you got the ohagi. And the letter."

Shinazugawa crossed his arms, scowling. "I got them. You happy now?"

Tomioka hesitated, his brow furrowing. "Not really."

The bluntness threw Shinazugawa off, but before he could bite back, Tomioka spoke again.

"I... I came to apologize," he said, his tone quieter.

Shinazugawa stared at him, suspicious. "Apologize? For what?"

Tomioka glanced at the floor, then back up at Shinazugawa, his expression unreadable. "For being annoying. And for not knowing how to say what I really mean."

Shinazugawa scoffed, leaning against the doorframe. "Oh, this oughta be good."

Tomioka ignored the jab. "I thought if I kept pushing, you'd realize you're not alone in this. But I was wrong. I just made you angrier. I didn't mean to."

The words were sincere, and for once, they weren't cloaked in Tomioka's usual aloofness. It threw Shinazugawa off balance.

"So, what? You think saying sorry fixes everything?" Shinazugawa barked, trying to regain control of the conversation.

"No," Tomioka replied simply. "But I needed to say it anyway."

The silence between them stretched, tense and unfamiliar.

Shinazugawa finally broke it with a grumble. "You're such a pain, you know that?"

Tomioka tilted his head slightly. "You've mentioned it."

As Tomioka turned to leave, Shinazugawa glanced back at the basket of ohagi and then at the retreating figure of his fellow Hashira. He clenched his jaw, unsure of what to say—or if he even wanted to.

Their paths had always been parallel yet distant. Now, with the war behind them and the wounds still raw, the question lingered: would their paths ever truly cross?