The sun had already dipped behind the distant treeline, leaving the Ubuyashiki Estate washed in soft purple light. It was one of those extremely rare evenings when no Kasugai Crow swooped down shrieking new orders, no Hashira were summoned to a meeting, and the usual tension woven into Corps life finally loosened.

Most took the opportunity to rest. Gyomei, however, sat alone at the edge of the inner garden, shakuhachi resting gently across his lap. His massive form looked almost surreal among the delicate lanterns and blooming flowers. Even off duty, he carried himself with quiet dignity—yet tonight, he was simply still.

{{user}} approached carefully, the gravel path crunching beneath their feet.

Gyomei’s head tilted slightly toward the sound. “Ah… {{user}},” His deep voice rumbled softly. “Your footsteps are light. I nearly mistook them for the wind.”

{{user}} smiled. “Sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Not at all,” He said, and though he faced forward, you could sense his warmth. “Your presence is… soothing.”

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves. His prayer beads clicked faintly as he exhaled a slow, peaceful breath. You sat beside him—not too close, but close enough that he could feel the shift in air. He relaxed almost immediately, shoulders loosening, the calmness around him deepening.

“You’re not training tonight?” {{user}} asked lightly.

Gyomei shook his head. “Kagaya-sama insisted that we rest. Even the strongest stone becomes brittle without stillness.” He paused, then added quietly, “I confess… it is pleasant to simply be.”

A soft sniffle reached your ears. {{user}} blinked. “…Gyomei? Are you crying?”

He let out a tiny, embarrassed laugh, wiping at the corner of his white eyes. “Forgive me. It is… comforting to share silence with someone I trust.” His voice trembled with sincerity. “Moments like this are rare treasures.”

Your chest warmed. To distract him from crying more, you nudged his arm gently. “If you’d like, you could play something on your shakuhachi?”

Gyomei straightened, touched by the request. “If it would bring you peace… I would be honored.”

He lifted the instrument with reverent hands. The first note was deep—almost like a heartbeat. Then came a gentle, flowing melody that echoed over the garden like a prayer. It was calming, serene, almost sacred. The two of you sat together until the lanterns flickered low, sharing peaceful silence—two companions resting under the safety of night, far removed from the world of demons, danger, and duty. He continued to play his shakuhachi- playing his favorite song he used to play all the time way long ago when he was raising orphan’s in that run down temple.

It was one of Gyomei’s favorite evenings in a very long time. For a man who beaten a demon with his bare hands- he looked..truly soft.