Senjuro’s life had taken a turn for the worse and he did not even believe that was possible.
He had prayed every day since his brother informed him of his mission, he logically knew that his brother was a great Hashira and was dealing with a lower moon. Also, his brother had the company of other demon slayers and even if they were not as good as his older brother, they would help if help was needed at all.
And Senjuro was scared, his father always got worse when Kyojuro was not home. He would refuse to eat or drink anything other than sake, he would get more violent, his words would sting a little more and Senjuro hated to be alone with his father, at his mercy. Neither Kyojuro nor Shinjuro hesitated to use their commanding voice when they wanted something from him, but Senjuro could not help but trust his brother more, even if his trust wore thinner every time he was forced to do something he was not comfortable with.
They were a tad more respectful with scents, they knew they could hurt him physically and psychologically in ways he might never be able to recover from if they used their scents to bend his will however they wanted. Not even his father dared to do that, which gave Senjuro a little hope that his father could learn to love him even if just a little.
When word of his brother’s injuries reached Senjuro he genuinely thought he might just die if his brother did not survive, but it had almost been as if someone flipped a switch on his father, he had taken their things in a flash and actually took care of him during the long trip to the Butterfly Estate, his pace not too fast and some breaks in between so that Senjuro could catch his breath. In their rush to see Kyojuro, Shinjuro proved to be terribly patient with his youngest offspring.
The real problem had started once Kyojuro got better because Senjuro was used to taking care of his own family, he was used to cooking and cleaning and nursing people back to health, he did not care at all cooking for his brother or changing his bandages, he did not mind giving him sponge baths or staying up all night telling his older brother calm and happy stories if Kyojuro could not rest from the pain, if he needed distractions. Senjuro did not resent the sheer amount of work it would give him… what he had found himself resenting was what had happened once his brother was healthy once more.
The first wound had been the lack of thanks he had received, even his father had complimented him on the way he had handled the crisis, their house pristine clean, the food warm and delicious on the table and Kyojuro well cared for, but not his brother, no. Kyorujo talked for hours on end about these three demon slayers that he wanted to train: “the water is too warm” he would complain, “you should have seen him, Tanjiro, he will be a great tsuguko”. “The sheets feel uncomfortable” he would say, “Zenitzu is really fast but just when he is sleeping. Can you believe he fights asleep?” “The food is not spicy enough” he said another night, “Inosuke really liked the bento I shared with him”. Not even an “UMAI!” and his brother used to say that to his every attempt at cooking even when Senjuro was very young and had offered him a bowl of burnt rice.
And things got worse, these three “famous” demon slayers had come to live at the Rengoku Residence. To his dismay, Tanjiro and his demon sister were the least of his problems, he did not like Tanjiro at all, but that had probably been influenced by the fixation his older brother had developed towards his tsuguko, Nezuko was more of an angel than a demon in Senjuro’s humble opinion, the other two, on the other hand…
Tanjiro had a bad habit of leaving everything anywhere, the big brother syndrome, Senjuro called it. As the eldest in the family, and the alpha, Kyojuro was the one who "did" things, his duty consisted of painting the house or moving heavy things from one place to another, but for the life of him he could not cook or wash his clothes or take off his soggy haori at the door, no, he would leave a trail of mud all over the house and Senjuro would have to clean it up. Tanjiro had the same annoying trait, from the little he had heard he used to cut wood and make and sell charcoal, his position in his family was to bring in the money to live, Nezuko and his mother were probably the ones cleaning the mess he left behind.
He did not have a bad heart though, he honestly did not realize or put too much thought into the energy and the time it would take for Senjuro to clean after him but he was thankful and polite, he would smile at him everytime he was around.
Zenitsu was an entirely different matter. The boy would annoy Senjuro to his boiling point with his endless wailing. “Nezuko-chan” here, “TANJIRO!” there. At some point Senjuro thought about spicing his food differently but he guessed that he did not have it in him to kill a person, even if it was Zenitsu, and if the kid got sick he would be the one appointed to the task of taking care of him.
And not to mention Inosuke. Inosuke was almost a nightmare, Senjuro was ready to stop his father the second he decided that the demon slayers could survive without the boar headed boy. Aside from the screaming, yelling and his constant challenges to fight him, Inosuke had an infuriating habit of stealing food and more than once Senjuro had had to run to the market, late at night, because Inosuke had eaten one or more of the ingredients he needed to prepare dinner. At some point Senjuro had started to hoard food supplies in his own bedroom and his brother only had kind words about them, not about Senjuro, nothing was about Senjuro anymore.
The downside of Inosuke and Zenitsu's presence, on top of everything else, was that when they annoyed his father enough, it was Senjuro the one that got beaten and yelled at, not Inosuke, not Zenitsu, Senjuro. And he was tired, tired of not being noticed, tired of not being taken into account, tired of not being enough. Maybe if he were able to master Flame Breathing, his brother would love him again, maybe he could train with the rest of them and hold Inosuke off, or even beat his brains out, if he had any, so he would stop annoying him.
He started out all by himself, in the few seconds he had between one task and the next, he would practice the different forms, do his best to cover his body in muscle, he would stay up at night to practice when no one was watching. Nezuko kept him company from time to time, some nights she was content to watch him, other nights she imitated him and they would laugh at their ridiculous attempts.
He liked Nezuko, he really did, they had found out that she could eat things other than human flesh. Granted, it did not provide her with any nutrition, but she liked the taste of some things and it helped her with her painfully dry mouth. It had started when he offered her water after a particularly hot night.
Nezuko liked sugary things, Kompeito were her all time favorites and Senjuro always kept some locked away in his room just for her; they were also practical, they could push one of the small sweets between the bamboo and her mouth so that she could enjoy the sweet safely for everyone.
Finally, Senjuro had mustered the courage to face his father and brother, his heart pounding in his chest, his ears ringing, and his body vibrating with fear, excitement and anxiety. He was sweating buckets and his face was hopelessly flushed. He did not have much to lose, or so he thought.
Things had gone wrong surprisingly quickly.
“Chichiue, Aniue,” Senjuro said, lowering his head in respect.
“What is wrong, Senjuro?” asked his father.
“I… It is nothing, just…” Senjuro sighed and gathered up some courage. “I wanted your permission to ask Kyojuro to train me too,” he finally said.
Shinjuro and Kyojuro shared a look and no words, yet they communicated, Senjuro could see them coming to a decision, an agreement, and he was pretty sure what the answer would be. He would not like it.
“Look, Sen, Flame Breathing was made from alphas for alphas, you would never muster it no matter how much you train you would just waste your time,” Kyojuro replied.
“I understand that, but it is MY time to waste, right? So why can’t I waste it? I promise I will not neglect my duties, father, you can be sure of that. Why can’t I do it in my spare time? I do not need to be the next Flame Hashira, I do not need to be your tsuguko, I can leave that task to Tanjiro…”
“Senjuro,” Kyojuro cut him off. “Your duty as the omega is to find a good alpha, marry and be happy, leave the fighting to me. Some alphas do not like big muscled omegas, do not ruin your chances” he added.
A light inside Senjuro went out.
Was that all life had to offer? be the maid to his father and brother and then be the servant of his alpha? Was he not good for anything else? His personality did not matter at all, just whether he was soft or bulky? What would happen once he got old? would he not be loved at all? Would he be replaceable once he could not do the house chores as he did when he was young?
Surprisingly, light came from his father… or almost.
“You are a beautiful omega, Senjuro” he said “and I am sure you will find someone who loves you, protects you and venerates you as you deserve.”
But Senjuro did not want someone else, he wanted to be loved by his family and even though that was the first compliment he had received from his father for something other than house chores, it did not feel like enough, he did not feel like he was enough.
“I do not need it to be a very hard training…” he tried, muttering, no longer sure of himself.
“Are you not listening to us?” Kyojuro said in a really unkind tone that caught Senjuro off guard, he had expected that kind of attitude from his father, not from his gentle older brother.
“I am, but…”
“No ‘buts’, I said no”
They used to be a tad more respectful with scents. At that moment, Kyorujo’s scent spread through the room and hit Senjuro square in the face. His little body jerked against his will and he bent low, in pain and fear.
“KYOJURO!”
Senjuro could not remember the last time his father had actually yelled at his brother. The sound of skin striking skin echoed in the silent room but Senjuro could not hear it over his pounding heart. Kyojuro’s scent was quickly replaced by a different one, less aggressive to Senjuro, somehow, but not less threatening.
As fast as Senjuro regained control over his own body, he ran out of the room and hid in his bedroom, locking the door with everything he could think of. As a heavenly sign, the package where he kept Nezuko's Kompeito fell to the ground in front of him. With a crazy idea forming in his mind and his trust in his older brother utterly destroyed, Senjuro waited quietly in his bedroom wrapped in a heavy coat that was too big for him, no one came to bother him but he was sure they would the next day. He heard the house going silent and once he was sure everyone was sleeping he slipped out of his room, gave the Konpeito to Nezuko before hugging her goodbye and sneaked out of the Rengoku Residence.
He ran, not knowing neither where nor why, he just knew that he needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and his family's estate. His feet took him to a forest, it was already dark, there were no signs of the sun anywhere. The moon shone bright over his head, in between the treetops.
Senjuro stopped suddenly. What was he doing? He could not protect himself, he did not know how and he did not carry any weapons. If an alpha decided to attack him, he was doomed, and if a demon found him… well he could consider himself dead already.
A twig snapped somewhere behind him, a chill ran down his spine, and he suddenly found himself covered in cold sweat. His senses heightened and he could feel the force of a gaze on his back. His body screamed "RUN" but his legs did not seem reliable at that moment, he could not even move them, not even a single step.
He turned around ever so slowly, if it was an alpha he might be able to convince them to let him go, maybe he could make himself even more harmless that he was and ask them for help, maybe the alpha would take him to some town and there he could scream very loud before things get out of hand… more out of hand that they already were.
Senjuro found himself face to face with a demon.
He was stupid, that was the only thing that Senjuro could think of, he had been really really stupid. Who in their right mind would willingly go out all alone into a forest knowing that there were demons roaming around, knowing that his brother, who, he could not deny, was outstanding with the nichirin sword, had lost an eye and nearly his life fighting one of those things.
The demon wasted no time, he extended a muscled arm and clawed at him, maybe trying to grab him, maybe just playing with his food. At the last possible second, Senjuro stumbled backwards, barely dodging the demon's grasp. The sharp claws tore into his right arm and part of his chest, Senjuro could see the blood rapidly staining his clothes. Those wounds would leave scars, maybe his brother had been right, alphas might reject him for something like that.
Senjuro did not hear the sound that escaped his mouth, too preoccupied with his ruined clothes, the pain, the demon and his own breathing. The demon attacked again and Senjuro let himself fall to the ground, folding himself up like an origami, a tight ball of human limbs covered in a black fluffy coat, his arms over his head, like he would do when his father got it badly.
His head collided with something hard, worried about covering himself from the demon, he had forgotten the danger of falling head first to the ground. Suddenly nothing else mattered, he would probably die that night and he was tired and in pain, so he let himself slip into nothingness.
His head HURT. Senjuro did not even know what had happened, had he passed out? Was he that tired? He did not doubt it, staying up all night to train had taken its toll on him but he did not realize that he was in such bad shape…
A soft scent floated to his nose, calming, like the tide gently lapping against the shore. Clean, fresh but also supportive and embracing. Sincere, freeing and understanding. Somehow it smelt lonely and indescribably sad, but it was warm and serene and loving and so terribly caring. Like a hug in the middle of the ocean, or better still, in a very calm pond where the surface of the water is never disrupted.
"Scent", that thought brought the argument with his brother to the forefront of his mind, anger and shame brewing in his stomach and festering there. He had left home, he had run during the night, he had encountered a demon, he should be dead but he was not, the sharp pain in his head indicated otherwise.
Where was he? Had his brother found him in time? What time of day was it? Did he already have to cook breakfast? Who was spreading that scent? It was new to him, Senjuro had never smelled it before but he liked it and, by association, he told himself that he would also like the person that scent came from.
"He’s coming around, call haha," a voice whispered. It was a girl he did not recognize, her scent was quite nice too, cherry blossoms if he was not mistaken. A pair of feet ran out of the room silently, the cherry blossom-scented girl stayed by his side, he could feel her curious eyes fixated on him.
The door slid open and closed and the pleasant scent that he had smelled became stronger. Not suffocating, a good kind of stronger, just enough for him to notice an undercurrent of camellia hidden somewhere among the calming scent. Somehow, the two smells complemented each other, it was not off putting at all.
“Suki, Aiko, are you done with your chores?” A voice asked, it was a man, his voice as calm as his scent, caring and firm at the same time. Two discouraged groans and a sigh, two pairs of feet walked silently to the door and out, sliding the shoji panel closed behind them.
“How are you feeling?” the voice asked, Senjuro was sure the question was directed at him but he was too scared to open his eyes, he was sure he was not at the Rengoku Residence. “I know you are awake, there is no need for acting” the voice added.
The sound of moving water caught his attention and he noticed another smell, suddenly there was something warm and wet on his forehead, Senjuro’s eyes widened at the unexpected change. Big and beautiful blue eyes were looking at him, calm and collected, and Senjuro felt curiously safe, from his scent and his presence he knew that the other man was an omega, just like him.
“It will help with the headache,” the man explained. “I did not mean to startle you,” he added.
“Am I in the Butterfly Estate?” Senjuro dared to ask.
“No, you are in the Water Estate,” the man replied. “Your injuries are not very serious, or they are, but you will make a full recovery, no more than two or three days as much,” he said, keeping his hands to himself. “Now, would you be so kind as to tell me how someone from the Flame Estate was in the woods?”
“I… I am stupid” Senjuro said “I had an argument with my brother and though it was a good idea to leave, but I am stupid, I do not know how to take care of myself or how to defend myself and maybe I may have overreacted, they always say I overreact but I really though I would not be able to stay with them anymore, I am still not really sure I can” he spit it all out, unable to swallow his bitterness and his despair. Somehow that man in front of him looked so trustworthy that he could not stop himself, Senjuro needed someone to listen to him, someone who understood him.
“Do not talk about yourself with such cruel words, I do not think you are stupid and as far as I am concern, you must have had a good reason to feel the way you felt. Running away may not have been the best answer nor the more mature one, but you are a child and you solved your problems as you saw fit,” he said. He seemed to think of each individual word before it came out of his mouth. “You are safe, nothing irremediable happened, now is the time to resolve things in a more mature way. What is your name? You look a lot like someone I know.”
“Rengoku Senjuro” he replied, bowing his head. “May I ask your name?”
“I am Tomioka Giyuu” he said. One of his long fingers tapped Senjuro's chin, as if to indicate that he did not need to bow.
Senjuro’s head began to spin, was not Tomioka the Water Hashira? It would make a ton of sense since he was in the Water Estate, but he remembered his brother and his father saying he was a beta, he remembered everyone complaining about him, how quiet he was, how sad and gloomy he always looked, he even remembered them saying that he thought himself better that the rest. “No one likes him” Shinobu had said, but the mental image he had formed with those descriptions had nothing to do with the man in front of him.
“You… you are the Water Hashira?” he asked, curious and terrified in equal measure.
“Yes, I am,” he answered, unfazed, “and I do not wish to have any kind of problem with your family,” he added. “I can offer you a place here for as long as you wish, but you must inform your father about it and I will write to your brother. They must be worried” he said.
“But they won’t let me stay,” Senjuro was quick to reply.
“It won’t matter, they do not know where the Water Estate is, and even if they do not want you to stay, what are they going to do?” Giyuu replied. “Senjuro, I will also inform Oyakata-sama about it. I do not want to disrupt your family over nothing, but while healing you I noticed a few things… Those bruises were not made by the demon and I do not think you are being trained.” He was serious, more than before. “Who is hurting you?”
“I… I… My father is still mourning my mother’s death” Senjuro replied, suddenly sitting up on the futon to look at his savior. He did not wish to get his father into trouble. “He is getting better, it is not easy but he is trying” he added desperately. Giyuu did not look very impressed by neither his actions nor his words.
“Lie down, Senjuro, you will hurt yourself again” he said, calmly. “If you want me to keep that information to myself, I will, but your mother’s death is not an excuse for your father to hurt you in any way. Nothing is an excuse for nobody to hurt you or for you to hurt anyone,” he rectified.
It was not something Senjuro did not already know, but being told that by a grown up validated his own opinion, so Senjuro relaxed into the futon. Maybe he could spend some time with Tomioka-san, he would not be a nuisance, he could help him with the house chores, he would help him with almost anything at the moment.
"Tomioka-san, what are the heat restrictions here?" asked Senjuro, chewing his lower lip nervously.
“Restrictions?” he sounded surprised. “Well, we do not go to town if we can avoid it, just in case, more than anything, so as not to tempt fate” he explained. “What kind of restrictions did you have back home?” he asked.
“Well, there were many alphas at home so I had to lock myself in my bedroom during heat. Kyojuro would lock everyone’s door at night so I could go out, I could safely do the house chores then,” he replied. As soon as he looked back at the Water Hashira, he knew he had said something wrong.
“Senjuro,” he said, his voice kind even when he looked kind of mad, “do you know how to defend yourself during heat?” he asked him. “I mean, if one day your heat comes early and you are out on the street, could you defend yourself then?”
“No,” he replied, honestly, “I thought you can not do much during heat, I am usually in a lot of pain, my father said once I grew up enough I could start taking heat suppressants and that problem would solve itself. Shinobu offered them to me, but my father said that I had to go through at least a year of heats before I could start them,” he said.
“Your father is right about that, heat suppressants can damage your growth and it is not advisable to start taking them before your heat becomes regular,” he explained. “It is also not advisable to take heat suppressants without a break, the recommendation is to take at least four breaks a year, those four heats will be painful, you have to decide if the pain in those four brakes is worth the calm you get the rest of the year,” he added. “But you do not become useless when you are in heat if you learn to function and to defend yourself. I guess you never learned, if you want I can start teaching you in your next heat,” he offered.
"Yes!" Senjuro could barely stop himself from interrupting Tomioka-san, he wanted to learn even if it was not a breathing technique, even if he could not be a demon slayer, he could learn something useful, something about himself and the way his body works.
“Now, let me check those wounds and after that we can go eat some breakfast,” Tomioka-san said. He waited until Senjuro offered him his bandaged arm to start checking it out, as if he needed his authorization from him. It was all news to Senjuro, Kyojuro and Shinjuro would have just taken it or used their commanding voice, even Shinobu would have just done it. Tomioka-san did not, he waited for permission.
“Senjuro, I really do not like to do this, but I will have to ask you to keep my type a secret,” he said, his eyes fixed on Senjuro's wound. “I have my reasons and they have nothing to do with how I view or think about my type and those who share that trait with me. Many years ago I had to make this decision for my protection, for this information to get out would mean a great risk not only for me, but also for everyone's safety. I do not want to tell you too much because the more I tell you, the more danger you are in. I ask you to keep that a secret from everyone, the only people that know as of now are my daughters, Oyakata-sama, my sensei, and you, and I hope I made the right decision by bringing you here and trusting you.”
“You can trust me, Tomioka-san, I promise I will not say a word,” Senjuro promised with all his heart; they would have to go over his dead body to find out about Tomiola-san's type.
“I am glad,” he answered.
Senjuro looked down at his wounds, from the way he had felt the claws tearing into his skin he expected a deep nasty wound but he found a freshly stitched cut that seemed to have at least a day or two of healing.
“How long have I slept?” he asked, terrified.
“Eight or nine hours, not too long, you knock your head pretty hard,” Tomioka-san replied. “Now that we are done, would you like to meet my daughters and eat something? After that you could write to your father,” he said.
Senjuro followed Tomioka-san out of the room. The Water Estate was beautiful, almost taken over by nature, calm and serene, like the Hashira who lived there, but also homely, welcoming and cozy. He liked it, everything was impregnated with the scent of the omega or maybe it was the other way around and the omega had taken part of his essence from his surroundings.
“Do you like congee?” Tomioka-san asked out of nowhere. His voice was so in tune with their setting that it did not disturb the peace.
“Yes,” Senjuro replied. He cringed at the sound of his own voice, he used to scream a little so his brother would even be able to hear him. This time he got no response, just a brief nod, and Tomioka-san opened the dining room door.
There were two young girls fighting over a place at the kotatsu, they both looked up at them as the door slid open, their eyes found Tomioka-san first and then locked on Senjuro. One of them had wavy brown hair in a messy low bun, the other one had jet black straight hair, a blue ribbon and brush in her hand.
“Girls, he is Senjuro, he will stay with us for some time, you will have time to get to know him, do not harass him right away,” Tomioka-san said. “Senjuro, these are my daughters, Aiko and Suki,” he introduced them. The girl with the messy low bun smiled big, showing as many teeth as she could and ran towards him, she definitely smelt like cherry blossoms.
She came to a stop right in front of him and stared at him in silence for a second.
“I’m Aiko,” she introduced herself, bowing her head perfectly.
She was dressed on a baby pink yukata tied with a light blue obi, she looked like a little beautiful doll right out of bed, and Senjuro could not help but look down at his old clothes stained with blood and dirt and feel less.
“I will find something in your size after breakfast, you can also take a bath if you want,” Tomioka-san said as if he could read his mind, stepping into the dining room.
“Oh… thank you, but there is no need, I would not mind washing my clothes,” he said, more out of courtesy than anything else, the truth was that he would love to have something nicer to wear than his old hakama.
“Senjuro,” Tomioka-san said, drawing his attention back to him, “we understand,” he added, and Senjuro sighed in relief. There was something about having nice clothes that made him feel pretty, proud, put together. He liked to pass in front of a mirror and see himself covered by something nice.
So he took a seat at the kotatsu next to Aiko who had let her sister win the argument and sat next to Tomioka-san. He found out that Suki had prepared breakfast that morning and became beaming with happiness once Tomioka-san praised her food. There was nothing that would wipe the smile off that girl’s face and that warmed his heart.