[SANEGIYUU – After the Final Battle]

The battlefield was silent.

Smoke curled through the air, the stench of blood and ash thick enough to choke. Where once there had been screaming, swords clashing, and the roar of a demon’s fury, now there was only the soft crackle of dying embers. Muzan Kibutsuji was dead.

But so were most of the Hashira.

Sanemi stood amidst the wreckage, his Nichirin blade lowered, stained crimson and black. His breathing was ragged. His white uniform, once pristine, was torn and soaked in his own blood. Yet none of his injuries seemed to register.

Because there—just a few meters away—lay Giyuu.

Collapsed.

Motionless.

Sanemi’s heart dropped.

“Tomioka!!”

He shouted, the sound cracking in his throat, desperation bleeding through every syllable.

He ran, stumbling over debris and corpses, until he reached him. Giyuu was slumped against a boulder, his haori shredded, his breathing shallow. Blood trickled from a deep wound at his side, and his eyes were only half-open, clouded with pain and exhaustion.

Sanemi dropped to his knees beside him, hands trembling as he reached out but hesitated to touch.

“Oi… don’t you dare..”

He growled, voice shaking.

“Don’t you fucking dare die on me, Tomioka.”