Chapter Text
Kyoujurou can't recall a time within the last six months that he truly felt at peace. Whenever the feeling finally came to him, in moments after successful battles or warm dinners with his family or friends, it was always followed by unease.
He felt like someone was watching him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know who.
He had been forced into partial retirement months ago, who would still want to follow around a weak and incapable man? Except for a crazy person; someone with an obsession. Well, that or someone who was trying to sabotage his recovery–that could be classified as obsession too though.
After his battle with Upper Moon Three, he was rushed to the Butterfly Estate. He barely made it out alive. There was a giant hole in his abdomen. Thankfully no internal organs had been severely damaged. But it was curious: A wound that should've been fatal never was. Like the creature who inflicted it had meant for it not to kill.
Shinobu had managed to fix it. She was able to use skin samples from a recently deceased Slayer who had allowed his body to be used for medical and scientific purposes. She used her steady hands to put everything in place and then tack it down. There was a reason she was one of the best doctors in the country; but even with that, he shouldn't have survived.
While he was asleep after the procedure, Shinobu took blood samples from him.
She found trace amounts of demon cells, ones that hadn't been there before. Not enough to turn him, but enough to keep him alive.
She informed Ubuyashiki, but decided that it was best not to inform anyone else, including Kyoujurou.
When he woke up, he was weak.
He could barely eat, because if he did he would throw it all right back up. He couldn't sit up, his abdomen almost caved in the first time he tried. He tended to cough up blood, someone always having to help make sure the liquid would get fully out of his lungs. Pus was constantly leaking from his stitches and soaking his bandages, they had to be changed every hour to avoid infection.
It took six months for him to get back up. Six months for his wounds to heal to a point where he could walk and talk semi-normally. But even then, he was tired all the time and he couldn't go home. Though, he was grateful for that deep down. He didn't want Senjurou to see him like this, much less his father; for it would only prove everything he said right.
“You're weak Kyoujurou. You aren't fit to be a Slayer, much less a Hashira.”
The other Hashira did visit often. Mitsuri and Tengen came immediately, keeping an eye on him while he was in his comatose state after the initial procedure.
Gyoumei came and prayed for him every night. He would also come before he had to go on long missions, giving an explanation for his soon to be absence and one final prayer.
Sanemi always brought him food. He hadn't known Sanemi could cook well at all before-hand, but he certainly did now, the cooking was better than most.
Obanai just came and sat in silence, sometimes he spoke about his missions. But you could tell he was worried, with the way his eyebrows knitted together whenever Kyoujurou so much as groaned.
Giyuu would also just sit in silence, but that was okay. Kyoujurou knew he had a hard time with social interaction; it meant quite a bit already that the Water Hashira even showed up.
Muichirou came to visit the Least, and when he did it was almost always with someone else. One of the times he did come alone, he rambled forever and only left when Shinobu made him.
Shinobu was always there, morning, afternoon, and night. She checked up on him more than any other patient, or at least that's what Aoi said.
Another six months and Kyoujurou was finally allowed to attempt training. He was nowhere neat as strong as he was. That first day he came back to the Estate after training he punched a hole through his wall and right into the next room. He was always such a light, but now? His light just kept dimming as he realized how far behind he was.
He wasn't getting better. Well, he was better than the average Slayer, but he wasn't a Hashira anymore. He doubted he could kill even a Lower Demon if he tried.
So he trained harder.
Every night he trained until he could feel himself slipping in and out of sleep. He trained until he felt like his limbs would fall off and his heart would stop. He trained until he felt tears join the sweat rolling down his face. Sometimes he bled, and not even then he stopped.
That's when it started. That feeling of unease; like he was being watched.
He tried to shake it, but at some point he gave up. He assumed it was in his head, and even if not, what did it matter? Things couldn't possibly get any worse.
And then they did.
His first Hashira meeting back, and they told him was to be let go. They wanted to take away the one thing he had worked his whole like for. The one thing he knew would make his Mother proud. The one thing that made him feel like he actually had a place in this world. The one true escape from the reality of what his family had become.
He begged and pleaded like he never had before. He couldn't lose this, not when it was all he'd ever worked for.
When they finally caved, he only got away with an inch instead of the mile he wanted.
They let him keep his title and his job, but on one condition. Someone would share the position and he would only get some of the load. He would barely be working, at least until he could prove he could handle it.
He wasn't sure he would ever be able to.
They brought in Kamado Tanjirou, the kid with the demon sister. Apparently he had defeated Upper Six with Tengen, and then the now retired Sound Hashira had recommended him to replace either himself or Kyoujirou
Of course Kyoujirou was proud of the kid, but he was also torn apart that day. He couldn't bring himself to join the celebration. He couldn't celebrate his own demise.
Two days later was his first day back home, and that's when he finally realized it. He was angry, angry, bitter, frustrated. His head was swirling with emotions he never learned how to process. He was so used to burying it–he didn't know what to do when it boiled over.
When he walked in the door, Senjurou attempted to hold their father back, but he ended up getting hit multiple times by Shinjurou in the process. Of course his father was angry at him for almost dying, he was always angry at Kyoujirou
Kyoujirou snapped.
He hauled off and hit his father square in the jaw, as hard as he could. And then in the nose, the chest, the stomach, even kicked him a couple times. He only stopped after Senjurou begged him to; grabbing his arm and pleading.
The worst part? He didn't feel apologetic in the slightest. He just felt angry.
The feeling of being watched only got worse.