Where The Cherry Blossoms Bloom //Sanegiyuu

Chapter 2: Otozure

Months had passed since the war ended. The world had shifted in ways neither Tomioka nor Shinazugawa could fully grasp. The Demon Slayer Corps was no more, leaving its former warriors adrift in a peace they had fought so desperately for. But peace did not mean silence—not for those burdened with the weight of survival.

Tomioka found himself standing at a small clearing near a river, the sound of water rushing over stones filling the air. The familiar solitude should have comforted him, but lately, it felt hollow. His hand brushed over his haori, its fabric carefully patched where it had been torn in battle. He sighed, his gaze following the current.

"Oi, Tomioka!"

The sudden voice snapped him from his thoughts. He turned to see Shinazugawa striding toward him, his usual scowl firmly in place. The white of his scars caught the sunlight, but his expression seemed less harsh than usual—though only slightly.

"You're always lurking in places like this, huh?" Shinazugawa muttered as he stopped a few feet away.

"And you're always yelling," Tomioka replied evenly, earning an irritated glare.

"Not like I enjoy tracking you down," Shinazugawa shot back. "But the brat—Kamado—said I should check on you. Said you've been keeping to yourself too much."

"I don't need anyone to check on me," Tomioka said quietly, turning back toward the river.

Shinazugawa clicked his tongue. "Figures. You'd rather brood by yourself, right? Typical." He folded his arms and leaned against a nearby tree. "But guess what? I'm here anyway."

Tomioka glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "You didn't have to come."

"I know," Shinazugawa said, shrugging. "But I did."

The words hung in the air, heavier than either of them intended. Neither spoke for a moment, letting the river's steady flow fill the silence.

"...You've been quieter than usual," Shinazugawa said finally, his voice gruff but not unkind.

Tomioka blinked, surprised. "How would you know what usual is?"

"I just do," Shinazugawa snapped, though his tone lacked its usual bite. "Doesn't take a genius to notice when someone's carrying something they shouldn't."

Tomioka didn't respond immediately. Instead, he crouched by the water's edge, picking up a smooth stone and running his thumb over its surface. "It's... strange," he said after a moment. "To wake up and not have a battle to fight. To not have demons to kill. I thought it would feel lighter, but it doesn't."

Shinazugawa was quiet, his arms still crossed. Then, after a pause, he let out a heavy sigh. "You're not the only one, you know."

Tomioka looked up at him.

"We all lost people, Tomioka," Shinazugawa continued, his voice lower now. "And even if we survived, it doesn't mean we're fine. You think I'm not still... haunted by everything?" His jaw tightened, his fists clenching slightly. "Genya... I couldn't even keep my own brother alive."

The rawness in Shinazugawa's voice caught Tomioka off guard. He hadn't expected the man to open up so directly, especially not to him.

"I think about Sabito," Tomioka admitted softly, breaking the stillness between them. "Every day. And the others. We're here, but they're not. It feels... unfair."

Shinazugawa exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "It is unfair. But it's not something we can change. All we can do is keep going, even if it feels wrong."

Tomioka nodded slightly, his gaze returning to the river. "You sound like Kamado."

"Tch, don't compare me to that brat," Shinazugawa said, though there was no real anger behind it.

For a while, they stood in shared silence, the tension between them ebbing like the current.

Finally, Shinazugawa broke it with a gruff question. "You hungry? Kamado made too much food again and forced me to bring some. Said you'd starve if I didn't."

Tomioka blinked, caught off guard. "You brought food?"

"Yeah, don't make a big deal out of it." Shinazugawa reached into the small satchel slung over his shoulder and pulled out a neatly wrapped bento. He tossed it to Tomioka without ceremony.

Tomioka caught it, looking at the simple package in his hands. He hesitated before murmuring, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Thank the brat,"

Shinazugawa muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of frustration and something gentler—something Tomioka couldn't quite place. He sat down on a nearby rock, rubbing the back of his neck.

Tomioka carefully opened his bento. The simple dishes—grilled fish, rice, and pickled vegetables—were nothing extravagant, but they reminded him of the quiet moments they had shared in the past, traveling together, even during the worst of times. It was more than enough, and the feeling of normalcy, of peace, washed over him like a quiet river.

"This is... good," Tomioka said, his voice warm, as if the words themselves carried weight.

Shinazugawa snorted, clearly not expecting the praise. "Kamado's cooking? He's always going on about it. Like he's some master chef or something." There was a soft chuckle in his voice that made Tomioka look up in surprise.

The unexpected lightness of the moment made something inside of Tomioka loosen. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to feel a sense of calm, a break from the constant weight of battle and solitude. He didn't realize just how much he missed this—these rare moments of ease, shared between friends.

Tomioka smiled, the expression small but genuine. "Yeah. He's gotten better."

They ate in comfortable silence, the only sounds coming from the rustling trees and the distant rush of the river. No need for words; the stillness between them was enough. It felt like a slow breath in the midst of a long, hard fight.

As he finished his meal, Tomioka looked up to see Shinazugawa standing, brushing off his haori as if the world was already waiting for him to move. "Well, that wasn't the worst thing I've had to do today. I guess I'll head back," he said, giving Tomioka a glance over his shoulder.

"Back?" Tomioka asked, blinking.

Shinazugawa gave a small nod. "Kamado's probably getting restless. He always wants to make sure everyone's together. And you should come too. It's been long enough that you've been out here by yourself."

Tomioka thought for a moment, the stillness of the world around him pulling at his thoughts. He had grown used to being alone, but... maybe it didn't have to be that way anymore.

Shinazugawa's eyes softened, his usual gruffness gone for the moment. "You've got people who care about you. And... you're not alone anymore, Tomioka."

The words hung in the air between them, simple but loaded with sincerity. It wasn't easy for Tomioka to admit, but he felt a tightness in his chest as he absorbed the meaning behind Shinazugawa's words.

For a long moment, they stood there, two warriors, not needing to say anything more.

Tomioka nodded slowly, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile. "I'll come with you," he said quietly, the decision feeling right. For the first time in months, he didn't feel like he was facing the world alone.

Shinazugawa's gaze softened, his mouth curling upward just slightly. "Good. Let's go."

They began walking side by side, the journey ahead still uncertain but filled with the promise of something different. The air felt warmer, and for once, Tomioka didn't feel like the weight of the world was crushing him. It wasn't just the lack of demons, but the knowledge that someone was there with him. And somehow, that made everything feel just a little bit easier.

As they walked in quiet companionship, Tomioka found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, things could get better from here. He didn't have to carry the weight of everything alone anymore. There was a future to move toward, a future where he wasn't the only one bearing the burden.

For the first time in a long while, Tomioka felt a flicker of hope rise within him—a flicker that would grow brighter with each step he took beside Shinazugawa.