The warmth of the hot spring had lulled me into a state of tranquil contentment, the steam rising in gentle swirls around me as I fed the last of the fish to the baby snow monkey still cuddled against my side. The other monkeys, now gathered around, were enjoying their treats, their soft chattering filling the otherwise quiet air. The scene was peaceful, almost surreal in its simplicity—just me, the warm water, and the gentle creatures that seemed so at ease in my presence.
But suddenly, the serene moment was shattered by the abrupt creak of the door sliding open. The monkeys froze, their chattering silenced as they turned towards the source of the noise. Their eyes widened in shock, and with a chorus of startled cries, they scattered, scrambling away from the spring and into the surrounding trees, their movements a blur of fur and panic. The suddenness of it all left the space eerily quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of their departure echoing in the air.I turned slowly, my golden eyes narrowing into slits as I shifted my gaze toward the door, my expression as cold and composed as ever.
There, standing before me, was Kyojuro, his figure framed by the light spilling in from the open doorway. His flame-colored hair, usually so neatly tied in a half-updo, now cascaded down in wild, thick spikes that reached his shoulders, framing his face in a halo of fiery brilliance. The sight was striking, a reminder of the untamed strength and energy that defined him.But what caught my attention even more was the fact that he was stark naked, standing there with easy confidence, completely unbothered by his lack of clothing. The steam from the hot spring curled around him, almost as if drawn to the heat radiating from his body. His eyes met mine, filled with the same warmth and intensity I had come to know so well.For a moment, I simply stared at him, my expression unreadable. The contrast between the tranquility of the moment before and the sudden appearance of Kyojuro in such a state was almost absurd, but I refused to let it rattle me.
I was stoic, composed, and unyielding in any situation. My face remained a mask of calm, betraying nothing of the thoughts running through my mind.Kyojuro, however, seemed entirely unperturbed by my silence. A broad grin spread across his face, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he took a step closer to the spring, clearly intending to join me."Good morning, Y/N," he said, his voice carrying that familiar, cheerful warmth. "I thought you might need some company."I continued to hold his gaze, my golden eyes never wavering.
"You're naked," I stated, my tone as flat and emotionless as ever, despite the absurdity of the situation.He chuckled, completely unfazed. "So are you," he pointed out, his grin widening as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "I figured, why waste time?"There was a brief pause, the steam from the hot spring curling around us as I considered his words. Then, with the barest hint of a sigh, I turned my gaze back to the water, my expression unchanged.
"Next time," I said coolly, "knock before you scare off the monkeys."Kyojuro laughed again, the sound bright and unrestrained, as he stepped into the spring, the water rippling around him as he settled in beside me.
His presence was as warm and overwhelming as ever, the energy he brought with him filling the space like a fire that refused to be ignored.For a moment, we simply sat there in silence, the hot spring wrapping us both in its soothing embrace. And though I refused to let my expression betray it, there was a small part of me—buried deep beneath the icy exterior—that found the situation amusing, perhaps even endearing. But I would never admit that, not aloud.
I kept my gaze focused on the surface of the steaming pool. The ripples danced around us, but even the serene beauty of the moment couldn't distract me from the situation at hand.
"You shouldn't be here," I said, my voice cool and composed, cutting through the soft bubbling of the water. "Even if our actions mimic those of a married couple, we must respect the sanctity of the Wisteria Mansion. This isn't the place for such... intimacies."
Kyojuro tilted his head slightly, his fiery hair brushing against his shoulders, now loose and untamed. His eyes, so warm and full of life, regarded me with a curious light, as if he didn't quite understand the gravity of what I was saying—or perhaps he did, and simply chose to see it differently.
"Why not start now, Y/N?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine warmth and affection. "We'll be married soon, won't we? So what's wrong with starting to enjoy that part of our life together?"
I stared at him, my expression unchanging, though his words stirred something deep within me. His amusement was clear, the light dancing in his eyes as if he found the situation both endearing and slightly humorous. His laughter, rich and unrestrained, echoed softly in the quiet space, causing a small sigh to escape my lips—more out of resignation than irritation.
"Should I consider temporarily getting a place here, then?" I questioned, my tone carrying the same detached calm that had always defined me. "In case you decide to make it your mission to stay by my side whenever you're not attending to your duties in your own region?"
Kyojuro's grin only widened, a mischievous spark lighting up his eyes. "You know," he said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone, "that would be quite convenient. I'd have you all to myself whenever I'm here. No interruptions."
The implication of his words hung in the air, heavy with suggestion, and for a moment, I simply stared at him, my golden eyes unreadable. It was moments like these that made me question just how much of my stoic exterior he could see through. But rather than react, I merely sighed again, the sound carrying a trace of resignation. There was no point in arguing with someone as persistent as Kyojuro.
Before I could respond, Kyojuro shifted closer, his movements smooth and deliberate, and in a fluid motion, he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me against his body. The heat of his skin, even warmer than the spring itself, pressed against mine, his presence as overwhelming as it was comforting. Despite my best efforts to maintain a distance—both physically and emotionally—he had a way of closing that gap, pulling me into his orbit where resistance seemed futile.
As he held me close, his playful demeanor faded slightly, replaced by something more contemplative. I could feel the change in him, the subtle shift in the air as his mind wandered to a place far removed from the present moment.
"You know," he began quietly, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest and into mine, "I lost a lot of people during my time as a slayer. Most of which I blame myself for."
His confession caught me off guard. I turned my head slightly, my gaze shifting from the water to him, finding his usually smiling face carefully kept neutral. His eyes, those vivid garnet orbs, were focused ahead, staring at something only he could see. The light-heartedness from earlier had completely vanished, replaced by a weight that was impossible to ignore.
"I was tasked with facing a demon not long after our first mission together," he continued, his voice steady but tinged with a quiet sadness. "When I was younger and less experienced, there were many times I simply wasn't able to protect everyone. Times where I didn't react fast enough, or let my guard down too soon."
He paused, the weight of his words settling between us like a heavy stone. I could feel his arms tighten slightly around me, as if holding me closer could somehow chase away the ghosts of his past. But I remained silent, letting him continue, knowing that this was something he needed to say.
"It was even more the case when I faced Lower Demon 2," he said, his voice barely above a whisper now. "I was arrogant, thinking my strength alone was enough. But it wasn't. I couldn't save them all."
His confession hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound was the gentle lapping of the water around us. The vulnerability in his voice, the regret that laced his words, was something I hadn't expected from him. It was rare to see this side of Kyojuro—the side that carried the burden of his failures, the weight of lives lost under his watch.
I allowed the silence to stretch between us, a brief moment of understanding passing without the need for words. Kyojuro, despite all his warmth and strength, carried his own scars, just as I did. And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I realized that perhaps our bond was not just one of fire and ice, but of shared pain and mutual respect—a connection forged in the crucible of our pasts.
Finally, I broke the silence, my voice calm and steady. "You did what you could, Kyojuro. Not every battle can be won, and not every life can be saved. But that doesn't make your efforts any less valuable."
He nodded slightly, his chin brushing against the top of my head as he held me close. "I know," he murmured. "But it's a lesson I learned the hard way—a lesson that still haunts me, even now."
I closed my eyes, allowing myself to lean into his embrace, the warmth of his body a comfort against the lingering chill of his words. It was rare for me to offer comfort in such a way, but with Kyojuro, it felt right. Necessary, even.
And as we sat there, the steam rising around us, I knew that this moment—this shared understanding, this quiet acceptance of each other's burdens—was as important as any battle we had fought. Perhaps more so, for it was in moments like these that true bonds were forged, and the future he spoke of, the one where he could wake up next to me every morning, became something more than just a distant dream. It became a possibility, one that I found myself hoping for more than I ever thought I would.
Kyojuro's words lingered in the air between us, heavy with the weight of his past, and I found myself contemplating the man I had come to know so well. Despite the fiery exterior he showed the world, there was a depth to him, a vulnerability that he seldom allowed others to see. His confession had peeled back another layer, revealing a part of him that had been shaped by loss and regret, by the burdens he carried as a Hashira.
As I processed his words, I slowly lifted my gaze to meet his. The moment our eyes locked, it was as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the two of us in this shared space, wrapped in the warmth of the hot spring and the intimacy of our connection. His carnelian eyes, usually so bright and full of life, now held a softness that was both heartbreaking and beautiful. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrored my own, and for the first time, I saw him not just as the Flame Hashira, but as Kyojuro—the man who carried his own wounds, just as I did.
There was something powerful in that shared understanding, in the way our eyes communicated what words couldn't fully express. His gaze searched mine, and I could see the silent question there—the need for reassurance, for acceptance, for something that went beyond the physical. It was a need I recognized, because it was the same one I had buried deep within myself for so long.
"You know," I said softly, my voice breaking the silence but not the connection between us, "we carry the weight of our pasts with us, but we don't have to bear it alone."
Kyojuro's grip on me tightened slightly, as if my words had struck a chord within him. He nodded, his expression thoughtful, the sadness in his eyes slowly giving way to something warmer, something more hopeful. "You're right," he murmured, his voice low but steady. "And I don't want to bear it alone anymore. Not when I have you, my icy flame."
The sincerity in his voice, the way he said those words, made my heart tighten in my chest. Despite all my attempts to keep my distance, to remain detached, he had found a way to close the gap between us, to connect with me in a way that no one else had. And in that moment, I realized that perhaps I didn't want to keep my distance anymore. Perhaps, in Kyojuro's warmth, I had found something I didn't even know I was searching for.
Without breaking our gaze, I allowed myself to lean into his embrace, letting him know that I was here, that I understood, and that we would face whatever came next together. His hand moved to cradle my face, his thumb brushing gently across my cheek as he looked at me with an intensity that made my breath catch. The warmth of his touch, the softness of his gaze, were a stark contrast to the weight of his confession, yet they brought a sense of calm, of safety, that I hadn't felt in a long time.
"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking the words too loudly might make them come true. "Not like I lost them."
"You won't," I replied, my tone firm, leaving no room for doubt. "I'm not going anywhere, Kyojuro."
His eyes, those vivid smoldering amber to molten lava orbs that had seen so much, softened even further, and I could see the relief there, the gratitude for the simple reassurance I had given. For a long moment, we simply stared at one another, the connection between us growing stronger with each passing second. It was a bond that had been forged in the crucible of battle, but had grown in the quiet moments like this, in the shared understanding and unspoken promises.
Slowly, Kyojuro leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. "I want to build with you," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet determination that matched the intensity in his gaze. "I want us to be able to wake up together every morning, where we don't have to hide or hold back."
The confession, so open and honest, left me momentarily speechless. It was a dream I hadn't allowed myself to consider, yet hearing it from him made it feel possible, tangible in a way that scared me as much as it comforted me. But as I looked into his eyes, I knew that I wanted that future too—a future where we could both find the peace and happiness that had eluded us for so long.
"And we will if we can," I finally whispered back, my voice steady, the conviction in my words matching his. "But for now, let's focus on the present. On each other."
Kyojuro smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached his eyes, and he closed the small distance between us, his lips brushing gently against mine in a kiss that was as tender as it was reassuring. It was a kiss that sealed the unspoken promise between us, a promise that we would face whatever came next together, without fear or hesitation.
As we held each other in the quiet intimacy of the hot spring, the weight of our pasts began to feel a little lighter, replaced by the warmth of our connection and the hope for the future we both longed for. And in that moment, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them side by side—stronger together than we had ever been apart.