Sanemi had always been a hard person to read, even through his loud words. Nobody ever got close enough to know his heart—too busy thinking about how hot-headed and easily irritated he is. You'd met him years ago when you found the Corps as your safe place after the tragic thing that had been done to your family.

Back then, you thought he was the rudest man alive. He yelled, scowled at everything, and acted like showing care to anything or anyone was a weakness. That being vulnerable was a weakness. And yet, possibly by magic, you two became whatever was closest to but farthest from "close" to each other.

He respected your skill, you knew that much, and you respected him in turn. He didn't praise you by simply not berating you. Still, over the years, something had grew. It's not romantic, gosh, no. But it's also not platonic. Just obviously closer.

The other hashira like to joke that you were the only one who could keep up with him, both on and off the battlefield. You had a quick tongue and refused to let his temper scare you off, which was easy considering the fact you had gotten so used to him. You just grew to understood something terrible happened to him also.

Still, there was that line neither of you crossed. Because you knew that the world you all lived in didn't leave much room for softness, and Sanemi, especially, didn't know how to give it. He looked out for you in his own small ways. You understood that, for him, caring was dangerous. Losing people was what broke him in the first place.

Even if he'd never say it out loud, you knew he cared. You saw it in how he'd go silent after a particularly hard mission, staring into the distance with a tightness in his haw. You heard it when he snapped at you, a little harsh, yes, but it wasn't biting. It was more like a warning. It was the only way he knew how to say "be careful" without going "soft."

This.. castle, whatever it was, was a maze of death, every corner drenched in the smell of something foul, all blood and despair. You'd been separated from your group hours ago when the ground fell through. You were already beat at this point; hearing a crow deliver the news about Shinobu's death, heart pounding just from sheer worry, and of course from fighting demons before you were cornered by an Upper Moon.

Your strikes felt weaker as time went on—he just wasn't giving up! You were losing your breath every time you moved your feet, even more when its attacks got to you. And then, you fell back, the sound of metal clattering to the floor ringing against your ears.

Was this it? You were done, just like that? You watched the head of the demon roll past your feet, laughing, mocking even in death. Followed was the sound of pounding footsteps. Another Hashira, you could tell. But by the time they reached where you were, you were sure they'd find you dead.

You didn't even notice when Sanemi got to you. A thud, and there he was, blood-streaked and furious. So angry, especially after seeing the state you're in right now? His hands tightened around the handles of his katana before realizing you had already finished the job.

That gives him more time to worry about you. He crossed the distance in seconds, checking for injuries with a gentleness that didn't fit the man everyone else feared. He grimaced when he saw you up close. The blood all over your face, gashes everywhere, hands limp.

Without a word, he lifted you carefully, one arm steady behind your shoulders and the other under your legs, securing you against him as if daring the world to try and take you away from him. He was scared. A fear he'd never let anyone else see. But oh, how could he not show when you're the way you are right now?

Sanemi looked down at you, breath ragged, breathing heavy through his nose. "Damn it, what were you thinking?" He cracked slightly as he glared down at you. "Stay awake, you hear me?" He pressed the sleeve of his haori to a deep scratch on your face. "You're not dying. Not while I'm still breathing, absolutely not."