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when giyuu falls in love with kyoujurou, it’s raining. or at least that’s when he realises he’s in love, but then again, love is a fickle thing.
but either way, it’s raining and kyoujurou gives giyuu a smile that he realises with a jolt is for him and him alone .
giyuu can’t help the way his mouth parts in surprise of this moment and the way kyoujurou is able to quell all of giyuu’s doubts with his words and presence. he has always had an intensity to him but in this moment in the rain, he speaks gently but it is no less intense or genuine than anything else.
and giyuu’s heart is kyoujurou’s
(as is his to kyoujurou)
three years after kanae dies, he goes to her grave and ignores how the anniversary is only a few weeks before tsutako’s. but as he arrives, the rain clinging his haori to his frame, he sees shinobu by the grave, the rain dripping down her lightly shaking form. aoi and the butterfly girls have long since left, but she is still here, head bowed and he understands. he doesn’t have an umbrella but he stands next to her, silent as he places his flowers next to a flower-covered tombstone.
he doesn’t leave even when she lets out a choked sob and instead is there. he is a pillar, is he not?
the waters are rough and they slam into them, unnerved and unforgiving but still they are here, breathing .
even when it’s difficult and are instead gasping under waves.
(and a few weeks later, he prays by tsutako’s tomb and he can’t tell which are his tears and which are the rain, the salt having long since dissolved on his tongue. he always thought he had no more tears to cry but then, he would be surprised.)
giyuu and kyoujurou confess their love for one another in the rain. it’s only fitting, he supposes. it's a distant thought and he isn’t quite sure how it makes sense but it just does. so he lets the thought be and instead falls into the sensation of kyoujurou’s hand within his own, the heat of kyoujurou’s face under his cupped hand, his lips against his and in this moment, it is just them, and the rain on each other’s cheeks, and a rainbow hangs in the sky, it’s arc proud in the sky while the sun shines, refracting through the falling droplets
kyoujurou admires how the water sits on his unruly hair, as if the droplets, the water itself has always meant to be there.
(giyuu admires how the sun is a halo around his head and the heat of flames is always present in each of kyoujurou’s movements. dangerous, intense but also warm and live-giving. they certainly give giyuu a reason to push forward, to wake up when the mercury squirms uncomfortably in his gut, weighing him down but also coiling like a snake, ready to strike.)
one day, as a child, he is playing with sabito in a waterfall near urodakadi’s house and it is raining. but the air is alive with their joyous shouts and the water rushes with an energy matched with their own, the childish innocence that they have somehow managed to grasp onto in the wake of the demon’s destruction.
they have not bothered removing their haori’s, instead allow the water to drench them as they push and shove and laugh with unadulterated joy. his red haori is soaked so it almost looks like a strange shade of brown and sabito’s looks more muted, less jarring than it normally does. less of an eyesore, he comments, teasing and receives a faceful of a splash in return.
when giyuu first meets the kamados, it’s snowing. it’s not raining, but the precipitation is a state close enough that giyuu is aware of it and perhaps senses this will not be the last time he sees the two.
regardless, he holds his katana to the girl’s neck whilst her brother sobs in the snow, begging and this strikes something within him and for a minute all he can see is himself clutching his sister's body whilst carmine stains a white wedding kimono until it was all he could see when he closed his eyes.
red against white
then
red against green and yellow; a jarring, horrid sight and it was now burned into his memory
it isn’t raining when tanjirou kamado becomes a demon whilst his newly turned sister sobs, clinging to him, begging and this time giyuu can’t fight past the lump in his throat and he sobs.
his tears have become the rain
after muzan was defeated, and the corps disbanded, he stands in the rain with sanemi. the rain is heavy with some tension, with something and he gives a sidelong glance to the former wind hashira who looks silently out into the distance. but then he turns to giyuu and gives a small, tentative smile and suddenly the rain doesn’t feel as oppressing, as heavy and instead feels freeing, with some apology or forgiveness.
giyuu isn’t quite sure what it’s for but he received this small gesture with a smile of his own
and the losses don’t sting any less but at least the water soothes old scars.