The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains when Giyuu Tomioka found himself pacing along the path that led from his estate to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters. The sky was awash with shades of orange and pink, the early morning air crisp and cool, but none of that registered to Giyuu as he mulled over the conversation that had been haunting him for days now.

"You should propose to him properly."

The words had come from Mitsuri, her voice brimming with enthusiasm, as if she hadn't just suggested something that made Giyuu's stomach twist in knots. She had meant well—Mitsuri always meant well—but ever since she'd said it, Giyuu couldn't stop thinking about it.

Propose.

To Sanemi.

The idea alone was absurd. Not because Giyuu didn't want to, but because he couldn't imagine how Sanemi would react. Sanemi was... well, Sanemi. He wasn't exactly the romantic type. In fact, Giyuu was fairly certain that if he so much as tried to get down on one knee and pull out a ring, Sanemi would punch him in the face. Hard.

But then again... their entire relationship had been anything but conventional.

As he walked, Giyuu's mind wandered back to how they had even ended up here—engaged, or as close to it as two stubborn men like them could be. It certainly hadn't happened the way most people would expect. There had been no grand gestures, no heartfelt declarations of love. In fact, if Giyuu were being honest, the whole thing had started with a fight.

Several Months Ago

The door to Giyuu's estate slammed shut with such force that the wood splintered at the edges, the frame rattling from the impact. Sanemi stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared daggers at Giyuu. His white hair was disheveled, sticking up in all directions as if he'd run his hands through it a thousand times during their argument.

"I don't even know why I came here!" Sanemi growled, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "I knew this would be a waste of time."

Giyuu, standing across from him, was as still as a statue, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. "You came here because you wanted to talk," he said quietly, though his voice had an edge to it, a warning that Sanemi seemed determined to ignore.

" Talk?! " Sanemi barked out a harsh laugh, stopping in his tracks to glare at Giyuu. "Yeah, we've done plenty of that. And look where it's gotten us—nowhere."

Giyuu's brow furrowed slightly. "You're the one who insisted we figure this out."

" Figure this out? " Sanemi repeated, his voice rising in frustration. "What exactly are we figuring out, huh? Because all we've been doing is fighting—over and over again."

Giyuu remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he watched Sanemi pace in front of him. He knew better than to interrupt when Sanemi was like this—his temper was like a storm, wild and unpredictable. But it was clear that this wasn't just about the argument they'd had earlier that evening. This was something deeper, something that had been building between them for months, bubbling beneath the surface until it finally erupted.

"You're so damn cold, " Sanemi spat, his voice laced with anger. "You just stand there with that blank face of yours, like you don't give a shit about anything."

Giyuu's eyes flickered, a subtle change that most people wouldn't have noticed. But Sanemi wasn't most people. He saw it, and it only fueled his frustration.

"Do you even care?" Sanemi demanded, stepping closer, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Do you even feel anything?"

Giyuu didn't flinch. "Yes."

Sanemi narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching. "Then show it. Prove to me that you're not just some emotionless bastard."

Giyuu didn't respond right away. His eyes, dark and calm, met Sanemi's wild, stormy gaze, and for a long moment, they stood there in silence, the tension between them thick and suffocating. It was a familiar dance—the two of them circling each other, always on the edge of something explosive, something neither of them fully understood.

And then, without warning, Giyuu moved.

It was so fast that Sanemi barely had time to react before Giyuu was in front of him, his hands grabbing Sanemi's shoulders and pulling him closer. Their bodies collided with a force that knocked the breath out of both of them, but Giyuu didn't hesitate. He kissed Sanemi hard, his mouth pressing against Sanemi's with a kind of desperation that neither of them had expected.

Sanemi's initial instinct was to shove Giyuu away, to push him off and throw a punch like he always did when things got too intense. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the way Giyuu's hands gripped him tightly, like he was afraid to let go. Or maybe it was the fact that, for the first time in what felt like forever, Giyuu wasn't holding back. He was feeling —and showing it.

So instead of fighting, Sanemi kissed him back.

The argument dissolved into something else entirely, something raw and primal, as they clung to each other, their frustration and anger manifesting in the way their bodies moved together. It was messy, chaotic, and far from perfect, but in that moment, it was exactly what they both needed.

When they finally broke apart, both of them panting and out of breath, Giyuu's grip on Sanemi's shoulders loosened, though he didn't pull away completely. Their foreheads rested against each other, the tension between them slowly ebbing away.

"Is that enough proof for you?" Giyuu asked, his voice low and rough.

Sanemi let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head slightly. "You're such an idiot."

"I know."

They stood there in silence for a while, the room still filled with the lingering heat of their argument and everything that had followed. Eventually, Sanemi let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took a step back, putting some distance between them.

"Look, I don't... I don't want to keep fighting like this," Sanemi muttered, his voice softer now, though still tinged with frustration. "This... whatever the hell this is between us—it's exhausting."

Giyuu nodded, though he didn't say anything. He understood what Sanemi meant. Their relationship—if it could even be called that—was complicated, to say the least. They fought constantly, both of them too stubborn to back down, too used to relying on themselves to truly let the other in. But despite all of that, there was something that kept pulling them back to each other. Something they couldn't quite explain.

"So what do we do?" Sanemi asked, his voice quiet but firm. "Because I'm tired of this. We either figure it out, or we walk away."

Giyuu looked at him, his expression serious. "I don't want to walk away."

Sanemi's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Yeah. Me neither."

Another silence fell between them, but this time, it wasn't as tense. It was more... contemplative. Like they were both finally starting to understand what needed to be done.

"So what's the next step?" Sanemi asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "How do we figure this out?"

Giyuu was quiet for a long moment, his gaze thoughtful. And then, almost out of nowhere, he said, "We could get married."

Sanemi blinked. "What?"

"Marriage," Giyuu repeated, his voice calm and matter-of-fact, as if he hadn't just suggested something completely out of the blue. "It would... simplify things."

" Simplify things? " Sanemi stared at him, completely dumbfounded. "Giyuu, do you even hear yourself? You think getting married is going to make things simpler?"

Giyuu shrugged slightly. "It's a commitment. A way to make it official."

Sanemi just stared at him for a moment, completely speechless. He wasn't even sure how to respond to that. Part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, while another part of him was genuinely considering it.

Marriage.

It wasn't something he'd ever really thought about. Hell, he hadn't even thought of himself as the kind of person who would get married. And yet, here he was, standing in front of Giyuu Tomioka, seriously considering the possibility.

He let out a huff of air, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're insane."

"Maybe," Giyuu admitted, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "But it's an option."

Sanemi crossed his arms, giving Giyuu a long, considering look. And then, after a moment, he said, "Fine."

Giyuu blinked. "Fine?"

"Yeah," Sanemi muttered, running a hand through his hair again. "Let's do it. Let's get married."

There was a brief pause as Giyuu processed what Sanemi had just said, and for the first time in a long while, Giyuu felt something close to surprise. He hadn't expected Sanemi to agree so easily—or at all, really. But then again, nothing about their relationship had ever been predictable.

"Okay," Giyuu said quietly, nodding in agreement. "We'll get married."

Sanemi let out a long breath, shaking his head again as he looked around the room, his gaze landing on the door that he'd slammed shut earlier. "Well, at least one thing's for sure," he muttered.

Giyuu raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Sanemi gave him a wry grin, his eyes flicking toward the broken doorframe. "The wedding's gonna be a disaster."

As Giyuu walked along the path, the memory of that night played over and over in his mind. It had been a strange, heated, and completely unorthodox way to agree on something as significant as marriage, but in a way, it was fitting. They weren't a typical couple. They never had been.

But now, with Mitsuri's suggestion hanging over his head, Giyuu couldn't help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—Sanemi deserved more than that. Maybe he deserved a proper proposal.

The thought made Giyuu's stomach twist in discomfort. He wasn't exactly the type to make grand romantic gestures. Hell, he wasn't even sure how to propose, let alone do it in a way that wouldn't end with Sanemi punching him.

"Why me?" Giyuu had asked when Mitsuri first brought it up.

"Because," Mitsuri had replied, her eyes full of determination, "Sanemi's too stubborn to admit he wants it. You have to be the one to do it."

Giyuu had wanted to argue, to point out that Sanemi would probably laugh in his face if he even tried to propose. But there had been something in the way Mitsuri had said it—something that made him pause. Maybe she was right. Maybe Sanemi wouldn't admit it, but deep down, he wanted something more than just a mutual agreement after a fight. Maybe he deserved something more.

The question was: how the hell was Giyuu supposed to pull that off?

The next few days were a blur of awkwardness and uncertainty as Giyuu tried—and failed—to figure out the best way to propose. He was quiet by nature, and while that usually served him well, it was becoming a hindrance now as he struggled to come up with something— anything —that would be remotely romantic without feeling forced.

His first attempt came when they were sparring. It was a warm afternoon, the sun high in the sky as Giyuu and Sanemi squared off in the training grounds. The clang of metal echoed through the air as their swords clashed, the intensity of their movements a familiar rhythm between them.

Giyuu had thought that maybe, in the heat of the moment, he could just say it—blurt out the proposal during a break in the fight. But every time he opened his mouth to speak, the words got caught in his throat, and all that came out was a grunt of exertion as he blocked Sanemi's strikes.

Eventually, Sanemi knocked him flat on his back, his chest heaving as he stood over Giyuu with a smirk. "What's the matter with you today? You're moving like a damn slug."

Giyuu just stared up at him, the wind knocked out of his lungs, both from the fight and from the realization that there was no way he was going to be able to propose like this.

Attempt one: failure.

His second attempt came during dinner.

They were sitting at the low table in Giyuu's estate, the room lit by the soft glow of candlelight. The atmosphere was surprisingly peaceful, and Giyuu thought that maybe—just maybe—this could be the moment. He had spent the entire day psyching himself up, rehearsing the words in his head, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

But when the time came, and he opened his mouth to speak, Sanemi interrupted him by stuffing an entire dumpling into his mouth.

Giyuu blinked, his carefully rehearsed speech dying on his lips as he watched Sanemi chew, completely oblivious to the proposal that had been on the verge of happening.

Attempt two: failure.

It was the third attempt, however, that finally broke Giyuu's resolve.

They were walking through the forest late one evening, the cool breeze rustling the leaves around them as they made their way back from a mission. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting soft shadows on the path, and for a moment, everything felt... perfect.

Giyuu could feel the words bubbling up inside him, his heart pounding in his chest as he prepared to say it. This was it. This was the moment.

"Sanemi," he began, his voice soft but steady.

Sanemi glanced over at him, his eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"

Giyuu took a deep breath, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. "I... I wanted to—"

Before he could finish, Sanemi suddenly tripped over a tree root, cursing loudly as he stumbled forward.

" Shit! " Sanemi hissed, glaring at the offending root as if it had personally wronged him. "Stupid damn trees..."

Giyuu stared at him, the words dying on his lips once again.

Attempt three: failure.

By the time Giyuu had returned to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters the next day, he was convinced that proposing to Sanemi was impossible. No matter how hard he tried, something always went wrong. Maybe it was the universe's way of telling him that they weren't meant to do things the traditional way. Maybe their original agreement had been enough.

But as he walked into the courtyard, he spotted Mitsuri waiting for him, her eyes bright with expectation. And Giyuu knew—he wasn't off the hook just yet.

Giyuu approached Mitsuri slowly, already bracing himself for the inevitable barrage of questions and enthusiasm that would come his way. She was standing by one of the large wooden pillars in the courtyard, her hands clasped together as she waited for him with an almost unbearable look of excitement on her face.

"Did you do it?!" Mitsuri blurted out the moment he was within earshot. Her eyes were wide, sparkling with hope and curiosity. "Did you propose to Sanemi?"

Giyuu paused, his mouth twitching slightly. For a moment, he considered just walking past her and pretending he hadn't heard the question. But that wouldn't work. Not with Mitsuri. She had a way of getting the truth out of people, no matter how much they tried to avoid it.

"...No," he admitted quietly, his eyes downcast. The word tasted bitter in his mouth. He hated admitting failure, even more so when it was something as personal as this.

Mitsuri's shoulders slumped, her face falling into a look of exaggerated disappointment. "Giyuuuu..." she whined, drawing out his name like a child who had just been told no. "What happened? You've had days! Didn't you have a plan?"

He stared at her blankly, unsure how to explain what had happened—or rather, what hadn't happened. After all, how did you explain tripping over your own tongue while trying to propose to the most volatile man in existence? "Things... didn't go as planned," he said after a moment, keeping his explanation deliberately vague.

Mitsuri tilted her head, her lips pressed into a thin line as she studied him. She was too perceptive for her own good. "That doesn't sound like you. You're usually so calm and collected. What went wrong?"

Giyuu sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He wasn't used to talking about his feelings, especially not when it came to something as... delicate as this. But if there was one person who might understand, it was Mitsuri. And if he was being honest, he needed help. He was clearly terrible at this whole proposal thing, and Mitsuri seemed to know what she was talking about.

"Every time I try," Giyuu started slowly, struggling to put his thoughts into words, "something happens. He trips. We fight. It never goes the way I expect it to."

Mitsuri frowned, her brows knitting together as she considered this. "Maybe you're putting too much pressure on yourself. Proposals don't have to be perfect, you know." She smiled softly, her tone gentle but firm. "What matters is that it comes from your heart."

Giyuu stared at her, his expression skeptical. "Sanemi's heart doesn't exactly work that way."

"Maybe not," Mitsuri admitted, nodding. "But he's still a person, and you care about him. I'm sure if you just talked to him, honestly, he would appreciate it. You don't need a big, grand gesture. Sanemi would hate that anyway, wouldn't he?"

Giyuu nodded. She had a point. Sanemi wasn't the type to swoon over romantic speeches or elaborate proposals. If anything, the idea of Giyuu going out of his way to do something over-the-top would probably irritate him. Still, even knowing that, it didn't make this any easier.

"I just..." Giyuu trailed off, his brow furrowing. "I don't want to mess it up."

Mitsuri's eyes softened. "You won't mess it up, Giyuu. You've already done the hardest part—being with him. Proposing is just one small step. You've already shown him how much you care just by being there."

Giyuu considered this for a moment. She wasn't wrong. Their relationship had already been tested in ways that most people couldn't even imagine. They had fought, argued, made up, and somehow found a way to stay together through it all. But this was different. This was a commitment—something permanent.

Mitsuri seemed to sense his hesitation, and she stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on his arm. "Listen, Giyuu," she said softly, her voice full of warmth. "I know you're worried, but you don't have to do this alone. I can help you."

Giyuu blinked, his eyes widening slightly. "Help?"

She nodded eagerly, her enthusiasm returning in full force. "Yes! We can plan it together! I know Sanemi isn't the easiest person to impress, but I'm sure we can come up with something that's just right for him."

The idea of Mitsuri helping him was both a relief and a source of anxiety. On one hand, she was far more experienced with matters of the heart than he was, and her optimism was infectious. But on the other hand... Sanemi was not the type of person who responded well to anything that could be remotely considered "cute." Giyuu could already imagine Sanemi's scowl if Mitsuri's plan was too... Mitsuri.

"Sanemi doesn't like—" Giyuu started.

"—Anything too flashy. I know, I know!" Mitsuri interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. "But I'm not suggesting anything like that. I'm talking about something simple and meaningful. Something that will make him feel how much you care about him, even if you don't say it outright."

Giyuu frowned slightly, considering her words. "Like what?"

Mitsuri's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I have a few ideas! But first, you need to tell me—what does Sanemi really care about? What's something that would actually make him happy?"

Giyuu opened his mouth to respond, then paused, frowning as he thought about it. Sanemi was difficult to pin down, especially when it came to things that made him happy. Most of the time, Sanemi acted like he was allergic to happiness. But if Giyuu had learned anything about him over the years, it was that beneath all that anger and bravado, there was something... softer. Something he only let show when he thought no one was watching.

"Well..." Giyuu began slowly, thinking back to the small moments he'd shared with Sanemi. "He likes... small things. He doesn't like being the center of attention. He prefers quiet places. And... he's protective. Of people. Of me."

Mitsuri nodded, her expression serious as she listened. "That's good. That gives us something to work with." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her brows furrowed in concentration. "Okay, how about this? What if you took him somewhere special? Somewhere that means something to both of you."

"Somewhere that means something?" Giyuu repeated, his brow furrowing. "Like where?"

Mitsuri smiled. "Do you have any places that are important to your relationship? Somewhere you've shared a meaningful moment?"

Giyuu thought about it for a moment. There were a few places that came to mind, but none of them seemed... right. Most of their "moments" had been filled with arguments or fights. But then, as he sifted through his memories, one place stood out.

"There's a lake," Giyuu said quietly, almost to himself. "It's not far from my estate. We've been there a few times... It's quiet. Peaceful."

Mitsuri's smile widened. "That sounds perfect! You could take him there and... well, just talk. You don't have to make a big deal out of it. Just tell him how you feel."

Giyuu hesitated, his mind racing with all the ways this could go wrong. "What if he doesn't take it seriously?"

Mitsuri laughed softly, shaking her head. "Giyuu, trust me. Sanemi may act tough, but he's not heartless. If you're honest with him, he'll understand. He might not show it right away, but he'll get it."

Giyuu wasn't entirely convinced, but he nodded nonetheless. At the very least, it was worth a try. "And if he doesn't?"

Mitsuri's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Then you'll just have to try again."

The next day, Giyuu found himself standing on the edge of the lake he'd mentioned to Mitsuri, his eyes scanning the calm water as it reflected the soft blue of the sky. It was a quiet place, tucked away in the forest, far from the hustle and noise of the Demon Slayer headquarters. He and Sanemi had come here a few times, though not for anything particularly romantic. It was more of a place they could go to get away from everything.

Sanemi stood a few feet away from him, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He was unusually quiet today, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It gave Giyuu time to gather his thoughts, to prepare himself for what he was about to do.

"Why'd you bring me out here?" Sanemi asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Giyuu glanced at him, feeling a small flicker of nerves in his chest. "I wanted to talk to you."

Sanemi raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Talk? We could've done that anywhere. What's so special about this place?"

Giyuu hesitated, unsure how to answer. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure why he'd brought Sanemi here. It had just felt... right. But saying that out loud would only make him sound ridiculous, and the last thing he wanted was for Sanemi to think he was overthinking this.

"It's quiet," Giyuu said simply.

Sanemi huffed, though there was no real bite to it. "You're always so damn cryptic."

Giyuu didn't respond, his gaze drifting back to the water. He could feel the weight of what he was about to say hanging over him, and for a moment, he wondered if he should just drop it. Maybe this wasn't the right time. Maybe—

"What is it?" Sanemi's voice cut through his thoughts, sharper now. "You've been acting weird for days. Spit it out."

Giyuu exhaled slowly, steeling himself. This was it. There was no going back now.

"I wanted to ask you something," Giyuu said quietly, his voice steady but soft.

Sanemi frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What is it?"

Giyuu turned to face him fully, his heart pounding in his chest. "Sanemi, will you—"

Before he could finish, Sanemi interrupted him with an irritated growl. "If you're about to ask something stupid like 'will you stop being angry all the time,' I swear to god—"

Giyuu blinked, momentarily thrown off. He hadn't expected that response, but it was so typically Sanemi that he almost laughed. Almost.

"No," Giyuu said, shaking his head slightly. "That's not what I was going to say."

Sanemi raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to continue. Giyuu took a deep breath, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He had to do this. He had to get the words out, no matter how hard it was.

"I was going to ask if you'll marry me."

Sanemi froze.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Even the wind seemed to stop, the world holding its breath as Sanemi stared at Giyuu, his eyes wide with shock.

"What?" Sanemi finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Giyuu stood his ground, his expression calm even as his heart raced in his chest. "Will you marry me?"

Sanemi blinked, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to process what had just been said. For a moment, Giyuu thought he might have broken him.

Then, slowly, Sanemi's expression shifted. His brows furrowed, his mouth twisting into a scowl as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You're an idiot," Sanemi muttered, shaking his head. "You already asked me that. Months ago."

Giyuu's brow furrowed slightly. "We agreed. We didn't ask."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "What's the damn difference?"

"The difference," Giyuu said, his voice soft but firm, "is that I'm asking you now."

Sanemi stared at him, his scowl deepening as he processed Giyuu's words. There was a long, tense silence as the two of them stood there, neither of them moving, neither of them speaking. And then, finally, Sanemi let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"Fine," Sanemi muttered, his voice begrudging. "Yeah. I'll marry you."

Giyuu blinked, momentarily thrown off by how easily Sanemi had agreed. He had expected more resistance. But Sanemi wasn't done.

"But if you ever do something this damn cheesy again," Sanemi added, pointing a finger at Giyuu's chest, "I'll kill you."

Giyuu felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't exactly the response he'd been expecting, but it was... perfect, in its own way.

"I'll keep that in mind," Giyuu said quietly, his voice laced with amusement.

Sanemi huffed, his arms still crossed over his chest as he glanced away, clearly trying to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck.

"Damn idiot," Sanemi muttered, though there was no real heat behind the words.

And just like that, the proposal was done. Simple, straightforward, and exactly what they both needed.