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After he died, Genya Shinazugawa became a tree.
He didn’t understand why. Maybe this happened to everyone who died as a demon. Maybe it was because he still had worldly regrets. Either way, he had no concrete explanation.
One second, he was saying his final words to his brother, acutely aware of his body disintegrating. The next second, the world went black as he closed his eyes for the last time. And the second after that, he opened his eyes and found himself in a cemetery.
It felt… warm, strangely enough. There was a light breeze blowing through his hair, the sun high overhead. Genya turned his head to look around. Hundreds of graves and tombstones surrounded him. He glanced down at his hands, held them in front of his face. They had an odd green tint to them. He realized he could see the foliage of the surrounding trees through them, as if they were translucent.
Genya was sitting on a stone slab, he comprehended, his legs tucked into a criss cross position. He let his feet dangle down, legs bending out at an angle on account of his height.
“What’s going on?”
Genya got to his feet and turned around to observe the stone. It was another headstone, unsurprisingly. He checked the name.
Genya Shinazugawa. His name.
He felt his heart drop as panic set in. His name on a headstone meant for honoring the dead. His body was transparent. A ghost, a spirit? What was going on?
Then he remembered. His body slumped. Right. He was fighting Upper Moon One alongside Muichiro, Gyomei, and his brother. He died in that fight.
What about them? Muichiro had been seriously injured, but maybe he made it. Gyomei was the strongest Pillar, so he had good chances of survival. Genya didn’t want his mentor to die. What about Sanemi, what about his brother?
There he was! Genya saw a head of fluffy white hair at the edge of the graves. Sanemi! So he was okay. Genya breathed out a sigh of relief and half chuckled. He tried to run towards him. Sanemi wouldn’t mind it if he gave him a hug since they managed to reconcile, right? And if he did mind, he wouldn’t feel it.
A force tugged him back, and he ended up falling over. Genya tried to force his way forward, but it was as if he was tethered to the tombstone by an invisible rope, preventing him from moving beyond the plot of land dedicated to him. He pouted, but was resigned to wait for Sanemi to approach him, instead.
Sanemi’s face was entirely placid. No hint of any emotion beyond an unquantifiable sorrow. None of the happy smiles from childhood, none of the angry snarls from after their world went to hell. His eyes looked empty.
His big brother knelt before the grave, shrugging off a sack slung over his back and left shoulder. The cloth fell away, revealing a watermelon, a knife, and a small offering plate. Genya stared at the objects in shock. Watermelon was his favorite food, but it would have been over eight years since Sanemi saw him eat it. Did Gyomei or someone else remind him of this, or did Sanemi care enough to remember on his own? Genya hoped it was the latter.
For a minute, there was only the soft sounds of the knife cutting through the outer edge of the watermelon. Sanemi’s expression remained completely still, not betraying how much harder this task would be for him with two missing fingers.
“The Corps disbanded today,” he murmured. His voice was resigned, tired. “It’s over now. Demons are gone, Muzan’s dead. You helped with that, Genya. I- I’m so proud of you.”
Genya felt a smile crawl onto his face. The words he always wanted to hear from his big brother. That he was good enough, that he helped. Sanemi never said that in life, at least not in Genya’s presence. Not even when Genya was on death’s doorstep. But, Genya felt his whole world light up in that moment. It didn’t even matter to him that those words only reached him in death.
“Thank you, nii-chan. I’m happy I made you proud,” he tried to say. His lips moved, but no sounds came out.
“I- It’s hard without you,” Sanemi kept talking, as if Genya wasn’t there. “I’m so sorry, Genya. I truly am. I don’t think I’ll be able to say that enough. I’m sorry I failed as your big brother, I’m sorry I said all those horrible things, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I-”
He fell silent. His shoulders were shaking and tears started to fall. Genya tried to reach out and hug him. His arms went right through him.
“Please don’t cry, nii-chan. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you one bit,” he tried to say. Once again, the words only resounded in his mind.
Sanemi set down the knife, his hands too trembly to continue safely cutting the watermelon. He placed the completed slices on the plate and started to push it forward. He froze.
Genya tilted his head, confused at the sudden action. Sanemi’s eyes were fixed on the ground before Genya’s tombstone. He followed his brother’s gaze to the object that captivated his attention.
A small tree sapling, only now poking through the dirt. Small leaves trembled with the wind. It looked so small, so fragile. Genya tried to recall the botany books he read back at Gyomei’s estate. Dogwood, he thinks.
“How did this get here?”
Sanemi reached out with his right hand, the three fingers quivering. He gently touched the shiny green leaves. His strokes were gentle, clearly afraid of accidentally snapping the stick thin stem.
Genya felt something ruffle through his hair. It couldn’t be the wind; it was blowing in the opposite direction. The sensation felt strangely familiar. Nostalgia flooded him. Sanemi used to ruffle his hair like this.
“‘Nemi! I’m here!” He yelled silently. “I’m here! It’s okay, nii-chan! I’m here!”
There was no way for Sanemi to hear him. But, the tears stopped flowing, and the expression of twisted grief morphed into disbelieving awe. He sniffled a little and rubbed at his eyes. He brushed his fingers against the leaves. Genya felt something brush through his hair.
“It can’t be…”
Sanemi shook his head abruptly and got to his feet, walking away as fast as he could. Genya felt his heart sink.
“Where are you going? Are you coming back? What’s wrong, nii-chan?”
Genya curled up into a ball, looking between the abandoned plate of watermelon and the dogwood sapling. He tried to stroke it, but his fingers passed right through.
Sanemi came back half an hour later. He knelt down and bowed his head, looking directly at the sapling.
“I’m sorry for running off,” he mumbled. “I… I just needed to confirm a few things.”
“Confirm what, nii-chan?”
“I- I’m gonna be okay, Genya. I promise. I’m gonna be someone you’d be proud to have as a big brother. I’ll visit, so you won’t get too lonely. Please, wherever you are, try to be happy, okay?”
“Okay.”
Sanemi pet the sapling’s leaves again. Again, Genya felt something run through his hair. Three times to make a pattern. Genya’s spirit was something connected to this plant.
Sanemi finished cutting the watermelon and left the plate in front of the sapling. He stood up to leave again. This time, he had a melancholy smile on his face. Still entirely sad, but with an unspoken promise for future happiness.
Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu, and Inosuke came by a little later, leaving flowers at every grave. Zenitsu stopped Inosuke from tossing flowers in a haphazard manner, screaming something about curses.
Genya was happy that they were all alive. He tried to smile, but a few tears slipped through. He wanted to be with them, too.
“It’s okay. As long as they and ‘Nemi are alive, it’s all okay.”
The quartet stopped at his grave. At the others, they only paused long enough to place flowers.
“We miss you, Genya,” Tanjiro spoke up, taking one of the flowers from Nezuko and carefully placing it at Genya’s feet. “You were amazing, and I hope you are resting peacefully.”
“I wish we could have talked more,” Nezuko murmured. “I think we could have been great friends. I wish you had the chance to see me as a human.”
“Why’d you have to go and die, Tanza?” Inosuke grumbled, his voice betraying all the emotions the boar head managed to conceal. “I didn’t get the chance to beat you at arm wrestling yet; you had no right to die before that.”
Genya laughed, still crying. His friends, same as ever.
“I miss you, too, Tanjiro. Talk all you want, Nezuko. I’ll listen. Maybe you’ll get your chance in a future life, Inosuke.”
The group was silent for a moment. “We should get moving,” Zenitsu said. The others murmured in agreement and moved on to the next grave. Genya was sad to see them go, but knew it was necessary. Zenitsu remained rooted to the ground.
“I know you’re sad, Genya,” he said after a moment. “But, everything that the others said was true. You’ll be missed. By us, by your brother, by everyone. Never think you were not important.”
Genya nodded silently, well aware Zenitsu couldn’t see him. His lip quivered and his eyes welled up with tears. He was missed, he was wanted, he was loved. It was everything he needed to hear. Zenitsu left to catch up with the others, leaving Genya to himself.
Genya was left to himself for a long time. He didn’t know how long; it’s become easier to lose track of time. He just sat by the headstone, watching over the sapling. Days and nights blended together, weeks stretched into months.
He had ample time to reflect on things, try to figure out why his spirit lingers on. He used the Blood Roots Blood Demon Art against Upper Moon One, right? That would explain the tree.
The Ubuyashiki kids were the only ones who came by regularly. They visited all the graves, just like their father used to do. Kanata, the girl he had once punched in the face - it felt like a lifetime ago - often stopped at his grave and kept the sapling watered. Was this her way of telling him there were no hard feelings?
“I’m sorry about that one time,” he said again, even though he had apologized at least a dozen times in life.
She didn’t hear him this time.
Aoi and Kanao made semi frequent visits, since the Butterfly Mansion wasn’t far from the graveyard. Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho often came along, the former more often than the other two.
“Shinazugawa-san told me that you two managed to reconcile,” she said, lips trembling as she cried. “I hope you’re happy with your family. And that you found your Sumi.”
Oh, right. She was talking about Sumi Shinazugawa, his younger sister. How was his family doing? His spirit, or at least this part of his spirit, was tethered to the mortal world, so he had no way to know.
“Has Shinazugawa-san visited you yet?” Sumi asked. “I think we’re all worried for him. He says he’ll be fine, but I think he’s still very sad.”
“He only visited once,” Genya said silently. “Please, I’m worried about him, too. Tell him to live.”
She didn’t hear him.
The sapling continued to grow at a much faster rate than a normal dogwood tree. It didn’t take long for it to grow to full size. Even after it reached that stage, it continued to grow.
As the tree grew, so did the distance Genya could travel from his tombstone. He walked up and down the aisles, paying his own tributes to the fallen. It definitely felt odd, a lingering spirit mourning for other passed on souls. Still, Genya felt an obligation to pray for them.
The Pillars’ tombstones were all at the far end of the cemetery. Their prestige carried through into death, so it made sense for them to be buried separately. Genya’s grave was a mere aisle away. Almost close enough to be in their ranks.
It took time for him to work up the nerve to approach their resting places. Was he worthy of being in their presence? Well, he needed to pay his respects to them, anyways.
He shuffled over to their graves. Kyojuro’s headstone housed only dirt, with his final resting place being at his family estate. Shinobu’s grave was also empty, if he recalled the crow’s report properly. She and her sister were buried side by side.
More graves stood down the row. Genya felt his heart stutter. What other Pillars died in that battle?
He walked to the next tombstone and read the inscription. Muichiro Tokito.
“No…” Genya’s voice caught in his throat. Muichiro fought against Upper Moon One with him. He was injured, sure, but he was a Pillar. He should have lived…
The memory of the fight resurfaced, which he locked away before. Upper Moon One’s final desperate attack, the one that bisected him vertically. That same attack had sliced Muichiro in half horizontally. No one would survive after that.
“I’m sorry,” he said voicelessly. “I hoped you would live. Rest well, my friend.”
Genya moved on to the next two graves. Obanai and Mitsuri, buried on the same plot of land. So they had finally confessed to each other; it was clear as day they were smitten with each other. He gave them both a quick prayer. One grave left.
Gyomei Himejima.
Genya’s world shattered. No, no way. Not his mentor.
He clenched his teeth as grieving tears rolled down his cheeks. He fell to his knees in front of the tombstone.
“Himejima-san… Thank you for taking me under your wing. Thank you for getting me as far as I got. I owe it all to you. Please, rest in peace.”
He kneeled, and he prayed. It was all he could do.
More months passed. More visits from Kanata and Sumi. The dogwood tree kept growing. Genya sat by his grave and watched it grow. He felt so incredibly lonely. No other spirits haunted the cemetery.
Autumn came, then winter. The leaves fell away, carried off by the wind. Even in his spirit form, Genya could feel the cold. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.
A figure was approaching. White hair. Kanata? No, it was Sanemi!
“Nii-chan!” Genya jumped to his feet and ran forward. The tether was longer this time, and nothing was going to stop him from giving his brother a hug.
His arms went through him. Right…
Sanemi looked up at the top branches of the tree. “When did you go and get so big?” He murmured. He was also shivering.
“Button your shirt, nii-chan,” Genya scolded him silently. “You’ll catch a cold.”
His voice fell on death ears as Sanemi walked past him to the grave.
“No watermelon this time, sorry,” he said. “Not in season.”
Genya took a seat leaning against the tree trunk.
“It was one year ago today that we beat the demons,” Sanemi said. “A year ago today, I lost you. I… I hoped it'd get less painful with time, but it still hurts just as much. I wish we spent more time together.”
“So do I, nii-chan. But, please, don’t blame yourself. I want you to live happily.”
Sanemi pulled something out of the confines of his pockets. It was a green and purple pinwheel. He carefully planted it at the roots of the tree. It twirled and spun with the wind. Genya watched with childlike awe.
“We used to play with these when we were kids, remember,” Sanemi said, a reminiscing smile on his face. “The good old days, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess I can tell you what I’ve been up to,” Sanemi said, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. “I’ve been traveling around, seeing the sights. The big cities are nice; I think you’d like them. Tomioka- Giyu, I mean, keeps trying to invite me to live with him.”
“You should take him up on the offer,” Genya suggested. “You could use the company.”
“Maybe I will,” Sanemi murmured. “I hope you’re doing well, wherever you are. How are our little siblings?”
“How would I know? I’m still here.”
“I miss you… so much, Genya,” he said. “More than anything.”
“I miss you, too, nii-chan.”
Sanemi stayed at the grave for a long time, just talking to empty air. Genya listened, sometimes answering a single thread of conversation. Still, it was more than they had talked in the last eight years.
After Sanemi left, Genya was alone once more. The pinwheel spun for a few more hours - or was it days - before the wind dislodged it and carried it away.
The snow melted away with the spring rains. One morning, Genya saw Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Kanao again.
His old Final Selection group.
“Is it normal for dogwood trees to grow that tall?” Zenitsu asked Kanao. She made a shrugging motion in response.
Tanjiro stepped forward and placed a bundle of flowers by the trunk. Genya smiled a little at the gesture.
How long has it been since he saw them last? They had changed. Kanao had Obanai’s old snake around her shoulders. Inosuke remained relatively short, but became even more muscular. Zenitsu and Tanjiro had grown taller, the latter to a greater extent than the former. Neither was as tall as Genya was in his final days. Tanjiro had a short ponytail, Zenitsu a longer one. Kanao’s hair was a bit shorter, Inosuke’s was unchanged.
They looked different, while Genya was still the same.
Inosuke headbutted the tree. “Don’t do that!” Zenitsu screeched. “Genya might be our friend but that doesn’t mean he can’t curse you.”
“I think Inosuke’s trying to show affection,” Tanjiro pointed out.
“See, Gonpachiro gets it!”
“I get it, too. Don’t worry, I won’t curse you.”
Storm clouds gathered in an instant, bringing a sudden rain. Zenitsu screamed when a giant raindrop plopped onto his head, drenching him. “What did I tell you?! We’re cursed!”
“We can take cover under the tree,” Kanao offered, taking a step closer to the trunk.
“Be closer to the one who cursed us?!”
“I didn’t curse you!”
“Penha wouldn’t dare curse the powerful Lord Inosuke!” Inosuke grabbed Tanjiro and Zenitsu by the hands and dragged them to Kanao. “This tree is the perfect cover.”
They huddled beneath the branches as they waited for the storm to subside. Genya stood slightly off the side, looking at them with envy. He wanted to be with them, but he felt like too much of an outcast, a ghost among the living.
The rain stopped, the clouds parted. The group of four cautiously stepped away, looking up at the sky.
Tanjiro turned around to look at the tree again. He smiled. “Thank you for protecting us from the rain, Genya.”
Genya felt something stir in his chest. He… he had protected them. He couldn’t protect them in life, but he did it in death.
“Any time, Tanjiro.”
More grave watching, more lonely nights. Genya had long since accepted his role as the lonely guardian of the Demon Slayer cemetery. He came to realize that the tree was the only physical thing he could interact with. Over the course of a few weeks, he carved out a section of the bark to look like his signature scar. He’d climb into the highest branches to get a better vantage point. From the top of the tree, he could actually see well beyond the walls of the graveyard.
He’d see the Ubuyashiki kids playing close by at their estate. He’d hear the laughter of Naho, Sumi, and Kiyo. He’d smell freshly baked ohagi that Giyu kept trying to give to Sanemi whenever they crossed paths. He’d feel the tremor of the earth when Tengen walked by with his thunderous voice.
Just an observer, never a participant.
Sanemi visited again, bringing both watermelon and ohagi this time. He talked again. Apparently, Giyu had managed to convince him to move in. Sanemi did his best to sound as exasperated as possible, but Genya could tell that his brother was not as annoyed as he let on. In act, he seemed quite happy.
“I- I… I’m gonna be honest, Genya,” Sanemi said. “I couldn’t keep my promise of being a big brother you could be proud of. I thought I deserved to be alone after everything that I did, that this is how I’d repent, somehow. It took way too long for me to realize that you wouldn’t want that for me. You’re too good for that.”
“I want you to live a happy life, ‘Nemi. I’m glad you finally figured that out.”
Sanemi chuckled a little. “Please forgive your idiot of a brother. I promise I’m gonna be better. For real, this time. I know I’m not alone, and that I don’t have to be alone. Please, keep watching over me.”
“You don’t even have to ask, nii-chan.”
His next visitor was Kanao. Alone, this time. It was almost summer. The dogwood flowers were in full bloom.
“Tanjiro and I are getting married soon,” she announced. Genya wasn’t surprised. He and Kanao used to hang out a lot - she was the only Tsuguko in their group, and he was all but one - and Genya recalled how she often spoke of Tanjiro fondly.
“Congrats,” he said with a soft smile.
“But, well, we both decided that we want you to be there in some form,” Kanao said. “We thought that maybe we could take one of the branches from your tree to the ceremony. So, if you are alright with that, please give me a sign.”
“Of course, it’d be an honor,” Genya exclaimed. How could he tell her… He scrambled up the tree, and snapped off a thin sliver of branch, the one that had the most flowers on it. He let it fall from his grasp. Even in her half blind state, Kanao was quick enough to catch it.
“It’s beautiful,” she said with a smile. “Thank you, Genya.”
Their wedding was a few days later. Genya saw the procession march by from the vantage point of his tree. It seemed like Inosuke was charged with carrying the branch. They disappeared inside the Ubuyashiki estate where the ceremony was to take place.
The sun was almost set when Genya saw Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Kanao, and Nezuko walking up to his grave. They were all dressed in beautiful ceremonial outfits. Kanao bent down, placing the borrowed branch at the foot of the headstone.
“Thank you for letting us use this,” she said softly, getting back to her feet.
Genya looked over all of them again. They had all changed once again. Nezuko had surpassed Kanao in height, and Tanjiro was only a little bit shorter than Genya had been. Zenitsu’s hair was even longer than before. Inosuke must have decided to trim his bangs, because he was sporting a new hairstyle.
“I wish you could have seen it,” Tanjiro said. “Giyu-san and Shinazugawa-san were both there. Uzui-san, too.”
“Me, too. I wish I was there.”
That’s when it struck Genya that they were moving on without him. They were growing older, getting married. They’ll probably have kids of their own soon. There was a point when he was the oldest in their group. Now, with Nezuko likely past age sixteen, he was the youngest. And for a single moment, Genya was very afraid.
“Please… please don’t forget about me.”
“We won’t forget you, Genya,” Nezuko said in her soft, assuring voice.
Once again, it was everything Genya needed to hear. “Thank you,” he cried, voice wavering and unsteady, “Thank you so much.”
He felt very selfish for saying that, on Tanjiro and Kanao’s wedding night, no less. What right did he have to ask them to put their lives on hold for a boy that passed away years ago? If they wanted to forget him, he wouldn’t blame them.
They didn’t, they wouldn’t dare forget him. In one way or another, they detected Genya’s presence. Tanjiro picked up the scent of chopped wood and smashed watermelon, along with a tinge of something vaguely inhuman. Zenitsu thought he heard the harsh, fearful whisper. Inosuke sensed the faint, almost nonexistent vibrations of panicked footsteps, along with a sudden chill in the air. Kanao believed she saw a faded outline of a familiar figure, or maybe the patterns on the tree trunk reminded her of certain scars. Nezuko detected a change in all senses, sensed the presence of a boy terrified of being deemed unimportant and tossed aside.
They would move on with their lives. They would find love, see the joys the world could offer. But, they’d never forget their friend who’s life was cut unfairly short.
Sanemi visited the next morning. “You had some very good friends,” he said. “I’m happy you had someone there for you when I wasn’t.”
He fell silent. “I just wanted you to be safe, maybe get married someday.”
“But you can do that. Are you going to marry someone, nii-chan?”
No answer.
People visited less now. Kanata and Sumi stopped by regularly, but at a less frequent interval than before. Tanjiro and Kanao had seemingly started a family, so they didn’t have time to visit. At dispersed intervals Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Nezuko came by to give him flowers. Giyu visited exactly once to ask for his blessing.
An overwhelming sense of loneliness surrounded him. Was this his curse, to watch everyone he loved move on, and eventually die?
Genya turned to Gyomei for advice.
“What do I do, Himejima-san?” He asked the tombstone. “I’m sad and scared and so alone. They can’t see or hear me. I can’t interact with the mortal world aside from the tree. Is there anything I can do? I-I could really use your advice. You always knew what to do.”
No response. No one, living or dead, could hear him.
Why was he stuck in this limbo-esque state? Was this the fate of a demon? If that was the case, there would surely be other demons around.
Genya took to experimenting. He discovered he could make flowers bloom on the tree branches. He could make leaves fall and float to the edges of the cemetery. The tree was in his complete control. He was the tree.
Towards the end of the snow season, Nezuko came with the news that Giyu had died. Genya felt a pang of sorrow, even though he never knew the Water Pillar well.
“Your brother left after the funeral,” she said. “Maybe he’ll come by here.”
He didn’t.
A snowflake fell through the tip of Genya’s nose. It was the beginning of the snow season again. The natural leaves and flowers had long since wilted away. He sat in the branches of his tree, silently watching over the graveyard.
A figure approached the gate. Sanemi, cold and shivering with a miserable expression on his face. He trudged his way through the snow to the tree. His teeth chattered and he hugged his arms around himself.
“If you’re cold, you really should button up your shirt, nii-chan.”
Genya had forgotten how his voice sounded. He had always been silent before. Why-
“... Genya?”
Sanemi was looking up to the top branches, where Genya was located. Disbelief danced in his eyes.
“‘Nemi? You can see me?”
Sanemi nodded numbly. Genya wasted no time scrambling down the trunk. His spirit stood before his big brother.
“How? Why now?”
Sanemi wouldn’t stop shivering. “I think I’m dying.”
“No, that’s not possible!” Genya yelled. “It couldn’t have been that long. Why would he be dying? This isn’t supposed to happen. Nii-chan can’t be dying. He’s supposed to-”
Sanemi chuckled. “You’re talking to yourself, Genya.”
Genya’s mouth clamped shut and his cheeks flushed scarlet. “Sorry, nii-chan. I- I’m just used to no one being able to hear me.”
Sanemi looked sad at that. “Were you here all this time?” Genya nodded. “You must have been lonely.” Genya nodded again.
“But, what did you mean you’re dying?” He asked. “It hasn’t been that long, right? I didn’t lose track of time, right?”
But, now that he was looking at Sanemi closely, Genya could see that something had changed. Sanemi looked old , his white hair not helping. His cheekbones were hollow and bony, his eyes had shadowed wrinkles around them. His previously muscular physique was all but gone, leaving behind a body of just skin and bones.
“It’s the Curse,” Sanemi said. He just couldn’t stop shivering. “That anyone with a Demon Slayer Mark dies before age twenty five. Giyu died from it earlier this year. I’ve got… maybe a week left, at most.”
Genya felt his heart sink. “But… no. You’re not supposed to die yet.”
“You weren’t supposed to die then, either,” Sanemi said. “You were only sixteen.”
He coughed and shivered more. “I just… wanted to see you one last time.”
Genya felt his lip quiver. His brother looked nothing like the strong Pillar he was a mere few years ago.
“I’m here, ‘Nemi,” he assured him, voice barely a whisper. His arms twitched. He desperately wanted to give his brother a hug. But, could he? He was dead and Sanemi wasn’t, not yet. Would he just go through him again?
Sanemi must have noticed the micromovement, because he held out his arms expectantly. Cautiously, Genya accepted the embrace, wrapping his arms around his brother. He was met with gentle, solid hands on his back and in his hair. It really hit him in that moment. Big brother ‘Nemi was dying.
Genya started to cry. Sanemi stroked his hair, trying to comfort him.
“You big baby,” he murmured, not a drop of malice. “‘s not a big deal. I lived as long as I could. It was a full life. You’re the one who died young.”
“I still don’t want you to die, nii-chan,” Genya sniffled.
“Genya, after you died, I felt like I had nothing left to live for,” Sanemi said, still stroking Genya’s hair. “You were all I had, and it was my fault you died.”
“Wasn’t your fault…”
“Say what you want, but I don’t think I could ever stop blaming myself. But, I managed to find some happiness. It wasn’t the same, and it would have been better if you were there with me, but it was happiness nonetheless. I’m going to die content. That make you feel better?”
Truthfully, no. But Genya didn’t want Sanemi to waste his final moments arguing with him. They had done that too much during their living moments. So, he simply made a noise of affirmation and buried his head in Sanemi’s shoulder.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” Sanemi said. His voice sounded strained, as if he was trying and failing to hold back tears. His fingers curled tighter against Genya’s clothes, afraid that letting go for even a second would mean losing his brother for a second time.
“Well, we’ll have all the time in the world now, right?” Genya said. He felt his connection to the mortal world begin to fade away. He and his brother were reconnected, so there was nothing left to bind him here.
Sanemi stiffened. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“I thought there’d be no more apologies?”
“No, I mean- I’m not going to the same place as you.”
Genya pushed away from the hug, looking at his brother in shock. “What do you mean? You’re worthy of heaven, nii-chan!”
Sanemi shook his head. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. That doesn’t change the fact that Mom is in hell for killing our siblings.”
Genya fell silent at the revelation. “It’s not fair,” Sanemi continued. “But, she’s still there. I saw it myself when I almost died four years ago. And… I’m going there to keep her company. Better me than… our bastard of a dad.”
“Then I’m going, too!”
“Absolutely not! You’ve been through enough!”
“So have you,” Genya argued. “Our little siblings can have heaven. You’ve already walked through hell alone for us before. You don’t need to do it alone for a second time.”
Sanemi shook his head in disbelief. “When did you get so stubborn?” He asked with a half chuckle.
“I picked it up from you,” Genya replied. “I’m not letting you leave without me this time.”
Sanemi looked like he wanted to argue, but just as Genya decided before, he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth it at the moment. “Alright. We’ll see when we get there.”
He shivered and coughed.
“Button up your shirt, nii-chan.”
“That won’t help,” Sanemi said with a shake of his head. He walked past Genya and sat down with his back against the tree. Genya sat down beside him.
“What have you been doing… these past four years?”
“Not much,” Genya said. “There wasn’t really anything to do. I watched over the graves, listened to stories. I can pretty much control the tree to my whim.”
To demonstrate, he waved his hand and caused a few flowers to sprout at the tree base. Sanemi looked at them in shock.
Oh, right. Sanemi hated demons and Blood Demon Arts. That was probably a mistake, he didn’t want to see that-
“It’s beautiful,” Sanemi murmured, plucking up the flowers and examining them. “You really are special, Genya.”
He rested his head on Genya’s shoulder. Coughed some more, shivered again. “Tired…”
Genya knew that if Sanemi fell asleep now, he would never wake up. He gritted his teeth.
“Get some sleep then,” he said. Sanemi closed his eyes.
“It doesn’t hurt… right?”
“It doesn’t hurt. See you soon, nii-chan.”
“... see you soon, Genya.”
The following morning, Kanata Ubuyashiki went up to the cemetery to tend to the dogwood tree that grew over Genya Shinazugawa’s grave. She found Sanemi Shinazugawa, cold to the touch and wearing a light smile on his face, leaning against the already decaying bark of the tree.