Male Reader inserts

the good part || rengoku shinjuro

{angst, fluff}

source: demon slayer, kimetsu no yaiba

artist: official

~
The sun had never felt colder on Shinjuro's skin. His gut roared in pain, begging him to stop drinking from the seemingly never ending jar of sake. His head spun with so many thoughts, he could feel a migraine coming on. But he couldn't take it - he couldn't stand sobriety. His head lolled limply against his chest, eyes squeezed closed. The sun wasn't warm, but it's brightness stabbed into his retinas like sharpened blades. It was a different kind of pain - a sting - compared to the ever present ache at the back of his eyes. Aged hands, roughened from work, lifted to try and massage the salty burn in the corners of his eyes, entire body swaying in an attempt to regain some semblance of balance.

As his vision swam, either from the liquor or the tears, he hardly recognized a gentle but firm hand laid onto his broad shoulder. He tensed, eyes opening halfway so he could stare blankly at the yellowing grass of the inner courtyard. The shuffling of fabric hinted to the man who kneeled to sit beside him, hand never leaving Shinjuro's shoulder. He could see the tender expression on his friend's face, full of sympathy and affection. A shuddering breath wracked through him, as if the world he carried on his shoulders was crumbling and getting even heavier at the same time.

"Have you eaten today, Shinjuro?"

The former Hashira grunted noncommittally, taking a quick sip from the sake jar he kept tied around his right wrist. (Y/n) nodded, giving a light squeeze to Shinjuro's shoulder in acknowledgement. "I made food. Senjuro liked it. I'm sure you'd like to try some, right Shinjuro?"

Shinjuro didn't speak, preferring to close his eyes once more. He couldn't face his friend. He'd known (Y/n) for even longer than he'd known Ruka - sitting here with him once more made him feel like he was a kid again.

(Y/n) couldn't help but sigh, letting his hand fall. Where he had touched felt unnaturally cold now that he was gone.
'He's going to leave me too' , the drunkard thought, 'just like everyone else I love.'
Instead, a head rested on his shoulder. Shinjuro tensed even further, his throat clenching.

"Kyojuro told you to take care of yourself, Shinjuro. You should abide by your son's dying wish,"

Anger and guilt gripped his throat in a chokehold and the everlasting sting behind his eyes became wet.

"Shut up."

(Y/n) breathed through his nose and out his mouth in a sigh, eyes focused on something out in the courtyard.

"No."

Shinjuro groaned and stood, wanting to go somewhere away from here but unsure of where. (Y/n) stood as well, much slower, not in any rush. The estate was a limited space - he'd catch up to Shinjuro eventually if he just followed.

"Shinjuro -"

"I don't want to bury any more of my loved ones," The confession was wavy on his voice, throat tight and dry. (Y/n) stayed silent, only taking a few more steps so he was right in front of his friend. Shinjuro clenched his eyes shut in an effort to stall any tears. They trailed down his face anyway. "I don't want to bury my sons."

(Y/n) tilted his head slightly, watching his childhood friend with unnerving focus. Shinjuro couldn't meet the other man's gaze and broke, finally allowing himself the weakness to sob, albeit silently. (Y/n) reached up and gently gripped Shinjuro's biceps, pulling him close so that they were nose to nose.

"Shinjuro, not a single person on this planet accepts death without grief. The death of a child is no better. But Kyojuro died doing what he wanted to do. You can't blame him for that,"

Shinjuro gave a heart wrenching sob, burying his face into (Y/n)'s shoulder and letting everything pour out. "My son died for nothing. He joined the Corps to follow in my footsteps, and died for nothing. We ... We were never going to defeat Muzan in the first place. Everybody in the Corps is just - just fodder,"

(Y/n) delicately, gently trailed his hands up to rub circles on Shinjuro's back, coaxing the sobs out with each loving press. The hand gripping the neck of the sake jar loosened and fell, Shinjuro's free hand coming up to grip at the back of (Y/n)'s yukata. The other helped lower them both back into a kneeling position on the tatami floor, their legs tucked underneath them. (Y/n)'s soft breath fanned over Shinjuro's ear and neck calmly before he spoke, quiet so as not to impose.

"You did what you thought was best. So did Kyojuro. You raised Kyojuro well. Now you must focus on raising Senjuro well,"

The said young boy peeked around the doorway, expression worried and lips pursed. (Y/n) smiled comfortingly Senjuro's way, making the young boy smile thankfully back and scuttle away to do more chores. Shinjuro sniffled, coughing to dislodge a bit of phlegm in his throat before speaking.

"You don't understand how it feels. You don't have a wife or kids ... " He laughed bitterly, "Yer talking out yer ass," (Y/n) closed his eyes and hummed, turning over the slurred words in his mind as if he was taste testing a rare and expensive tea (Shinjuro had seen him do that - Ruka had found it for a good price in the market and brought it home. It had been fun, and the tea was good).

"I don't, that's true. But do you think I was excited when you joined the Slayer Corps?"

Shinjuro's face became conflicted and he furrowed his brows; this was all news to him. "I didn't say anything. I didn't. Because it was not my place to make decisions for you. Nor is it your place to make decisions for your children. Ruka told me that, and I believe her,"

Shinjuro pouted. It was never fair when (Y/n) and Ruka ganged up on him and were right (they were always right). It seemed that never stopped, even after her death. He sighed, relaxing and burrowing his face in (Y/n)'s shoulder again. Tears no longer poured down his face, but his eyes were now puffy and dry and he desperately wanted to drink something other than sake. (Y/n) shifted his face, burrowing his nose in Shinjuro's mane of hair. It smelled so like him - and that thought sent butterflies through the gentleman.

"Ruka always told the boys to help the helpless - it's what Rengokus were born to do. But, there should also be someone to help the Rengokus," Shinjuro could feel the soft lips stretch in a smile against his temple. "I think I'll do that, Shinjuro, so don't worry about that. I'll help, even if I don't fully understand,"

Shinjuro scoffed, closing his eyes and just breathing in (Y/n)'s scent.

"Ya don't gotta,"

"I want to. For you," A beat.

"Aishiteru." Shinjuro's eyes shot wide open and he jerked to look right at (Y/n)'s surprised face.

"What was that?"

(Y/n)'s face softened into an affectionate grin, eyes squinted joyfully.

"I just asked if you were hungry. There is still the food I made waiting for you." (Y/n) playfully nudged his friend in the ribs with an elbow, "You should really try it first before saying you don't like it."
Shinjuro nodded, letting (Y/n) help him up and lead him into the dining hall, heart racing in bewilderment. He'd never pegged his childhood friend for a liar.

~

1st fic that ACTUALLY went thru a beta reader wtf dookie r u being srs??? yea i am it's so weird feeling ngl ,, like i feel like i'm being graded for my stupid lil gay fics wtf