Stockings
It was honestly a miracle that he was even still alive after that time.
Muzan-sama had been gracious about his demotion though he honestly was counting his blessings that he hadn't killed. Perhaps his master still saw potential in him to redeem himself since he hadn't killed him amongst the other lower moons. Perhaps once he had taken his revenge he could focused on becoming strong enough to be considered for the Upper Ranks.
It's happened before after all and he was ready to keep proving himself no matter what.
Now to go and finish off those...those Rengokus.
The one who had put him into his current position. The one who ruined everything for him. All that time when he was going to get stronger and stronger, only to be set back terribly by some snot nosed brat who had almost killed him. Besides he wanted to see the father as well. The one he had been hoping to go up against the one who escaped, the one who tortured his very existence with his memory alone, who he craved to finish off more than anyone in the world, with his accursed son coming at a close second.
Quietly his hounds skulk around the area and move as silent at the air. For months he has followed this new trail after hearing the new of Upper Moon Three attacking the Flame Hashira. He has actually been quite upset after hearing that the son almost died. After all this was HIS vengeance to take, not that blasted pink haired moron. No no thankfully that boy survived and now he could finally go finish the fight now that he's heard he was healed.
He quietly shape shifted from his wolf form to his human, while his precious pets follow him from the shadows. Hairou looked at the house with a smirk.
Finally, on this cold winter's night he would finally get the revenge he craved.
...He just hoped he wasn't forgotten this time.
...
It had been a very long time since he had let his sons decorate the house.
He hummed as he quietly was folding the clothes and listening to the two laughing and joking around. It...it reminded him of a happier time, one that he had tried so hard to forget in his drunkenness. His hand twitches for a bottle that was no longer there. After Kyojuro had shattered it while Senjuro had been sneaking around throwing away the rest of the sake and hid away the money.
Perhaps the right idea, even with him still craving to drink. How long had it been since his last sake anyways? Three months? Four? He had lost count after the fourth week when he almost relapsed. Thankfully Kyojuro trying to stand up and almost opening his wounds again snapped him out of that idea.
He sighed softly before he suddenly feels something being wrapped around his neck carefully.
Shinjuro blinked before he turned to look at his youngest son.
"Look Chichiue, Aniue found our old scarves and stockings! Kaasan had bought them from an travelling merchant from America right? He said you used to wear this one all the time!"
Shinjuro slowly reached up and touched the warm wool scarf around his neck. He gently took one end in his hand and looked at the familiar red and yellow pattern on it. Somehow it still smelled like the first Christmas he and Ruka had shared together...
"Hmm...I haven't seen the stockings in a long time...shall we?" He stood up slowly.
Senjuro smiled at him and took his hand to lead him to where he could see Kyojuro was calmly hanging up said stockings. Altogether there were four of them hanging along the wall of the dining room...ah yes the dining room. Seeing it dusted and restored to its former glory with the decorations up around it just brought a strange feeling of familiarity of it all.
For a moment he can see Ruka in Kyojuro, when she would be adjusting everything before going to serve dinner and tea.
Kyojuro hummed, "Mmm...Yomoya..." he shook his head as he pulled the stocking off and tried a different spot, "Hmm. Yes," he nodded in assurance of where he put it that time.
The four stockings were of differing colors and designs; One was a lovely light blue color with a white okami design sewn into it, one was a navy blue with a depiction of Tsukuyomi, one was a dark red with the depiction of Amaterasu and the last one was a yellow one with the figures of kitsune playing. Seeing them out and still in such good condition made him feel a sense of...relief.
Shinjuro slowly smiled and he walked over beside his eldest, "..I have not seen these in so long, I forgot about them..."
Kyojuro was smiling and he chuckled softly as Senjuro stood between the two, "I remember. Kaasan loved having these up and she would fill them with so many goodies I thought they would never empty."
"They're pretty Aniue," Senjuro reached up and touched the kitsune one, "I wish I could remember those times..."
The two oldest Rengokus look down at the youngest. Slowly Shinjuro reached up and gently patted his head. That's right, Ruka had made that kitsune one when Senjuro was still too small to remember, even though he did. How the little toddler that was once his youngest had hopped up and down and practically hugged the stocking with such joy.
"Well...let us hope this is the time for new ones," Shinjuro said gently, "...And hope I...can make up for the time lost to my idiocy..."
Kyojuro didn't speak, but his one eyes softened a bit in sympathy. Then he quickly picked up Senjuro in his arms and spun him.
"None of that gloom now! We have much to celebrate! Come come let us go get the food! Tou-san could you open the porch door? Like when Senjuro and I were children?"
Shinjuro blinked...then he gave a quiet chuckle and went to open the screen door to just enjoy the sight of the gentle moon on the snow tonight.
...
...Well this was certainly different.
Hairou watched with narrowed eyes as the porch doors slid open to show the familiar figure of Rengoku Shinjuro.
Age had certainly been rather kind to the man. For one, despite how long it's been his hair had not greyed yet. His physique was still in top form although he had started to grow a bit of a beard and his eyes were different. Yet as he picked up his scent he couldn't mistake it anywhere; that was the man who had humiliated him and left him in dishonorable defeat.
For shame. For shame!
It would be so simple. Just one aim of his gun and at his command, Shinjuro would be dead and his wolves would take out the rest of his lineage. He was so close, so very very close he could TASTE his victory on his tongue.
He raised his gun, his eyes narrowed at the man. Just one shot...just one shot...!
Isn't it a little underhanded to go after a man in his own home?
...Where did that thought come from? He frowned, his gun still trained on his arch nemesis as he watched him stare out into the night. Judging by the scarf around his neck, he was keeping warm and seemed almost...at ease?
You'll kill him and his own children? In their home? When they aren't going to be able to fight back? You're better than this.
Hairou hesitantly lowered his gun. He loathed to admit it, but the annoying voice was right.
...Though perhaps this could be a chance to spy on them! Yes he could learn more!
Suddenly he sees another familiar face and then an unfamiliar one walk over to Shinjuro. The one with an eye patch was clearly Kyojuro. Especially considering how loud he was as he laughed and was putting down trays of food doe the three of them. As for the small one, well he didn't look like much of a fighter...he would take him out first when the chance presented itself.
He was about to turn and leave when he saw Shinjuro do something that makes him stop in his tracks. He could feel warmth touching his cheeks and his stomach doing a strange flittering sensation. His knees threatened to give out.
The former hashira was smiling. The smile itself was so warm and soft, like when a soft fire in a hearth. It wasn't as big as Kyojuro's nor as shy as the small one's, but it made Hairou have strange shivers running through him. There was a strange pulsing in his chest at seeing the other like this...what was this feeling? This sudden rush of warmth? Of softness?
"..He knows I'm here...and...and he is using a type of breathing technique! Yes...th-that can be the only solution! I must...I must retreat before it get worse...come come my pets, we shall wait another day!"
Best to fight when he's at his best...yet even as he walked away and tried to block out the image of the soft smile, treacherous thoughts of wanting to see that smile more start to fill his mind. Even as he got further and further away to find refuge for when the sun rose, the desire didn't leave.
In fact...he wished he could see that smile directed at him...just once.
He shook his head and crossed his arms with a growl. Once he got some rest and ate someone that should help distract him.
At least he can hope it does.