Chapter Text
Despite his lunch consisting entirely of overpriced cold rice, Zenitsu hummed to himself happily as his all friends conversed amongst themselves; save for Muichiro, who was examining him closely. He reached over to Genya, who was sitting next to him, and tugged his sleeve.
“Genya,” he said, lowering his voice as if it mattered, “are you seeing that?” He pointed at Zenitsu, who pretended not to notice.
Genya was in the middle of talking to Nezuko about borrowing a book, but he looked at Zenitsu and nodded. “Yeah. He seems weirdly calm.”
Muichiro nodded. “Right. It would be weird on a normal day, but after he shamelessly lied yesterday?” He squinted at the shameless liar. “Something’s up.”
“You seem awfully happy today, Zenitsu,” Tanjiro said, as if he was reading their minds.
“I am,” Zenitsu said. “I'm just so glad I don’t have to keep my girlfriend a secret anymore.” He made sure to say the “girlfriend” part extra loud, glaring at Muichiro and Genya.
“Right,” Muichiro replied, leaning in. “This very real girlfriend that you have.”
To his surprise, Zenitsu didn't seem upset by this at all. He simply nodded, a peaceful grin on his face. Kanao and Nezuko stopped what they were doing, sharing the boys’ confused looks. They nodded at each other, reaching an agreement.
“Say, Zenitsu,” Kanao said cautiously, “do you think you could tell us about this girlfriend?”
Zenitsu nodded, completely undaunted. “I’d love to!” He paused, eating a spoonful of cold rice as if he had all the time in the world. When he finished, he set his spork down and began counting off on his fingers. “Let’s see…she loves camping, she has green eyes, she has bluish-black shoulder length hair, she’s very shy, she doesn't talk much…”
As Zenitsu went on, the four of them gave each other glances again. Judging by how he had acted the previous day, they could've sworn he was lying, but he seemed confident now. Genya put a finger on his chin, thinking for a moment. He turned to Zenitsu, cutting him off.
“What's her name?” He pursed his lips, as if hopeful.
Zenitsu didn't even flinch. “Oh, it’s Ino–”
Suddenly, he seemed to panic, coughing loudly in a manner that was clearly fake. Once he finished, he straightened up again, his face slightly red. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes.
“Inoko. That's her name.” He spoke flatly, as if showing emotion would kill him.
Nezuko cocked her head. It certainly seemed like what he had said about her name was a lie, but why did he get caught up on that rather than the description of her? How was it that he could describe the alleged “Inoko” head to toe but couldn't say her name without getting red in the face?
They all looked at Tanjiro, the human lie detector of the group. But he had his brows furrowed, as if he was confused, too.
Seeing as no one raised any objections, Zenitsu’s nervousness began to fade.
The truth of the matter was that they were right: he didn't have a girlfriend, but he wasn't lying. The person he was talking about was real.
The beautiful maiden of black hair and green eyes was none other than the king of beasts: Inosuke Hashibira.
As always, Inosuke waited by the edge of the school grounds for Zenitsu to show up, his arms crossed. Zenitsu left school with Tanjiro, and the two of them caught the boar’s eye.
“Hi, Inosuke!” Tanjiro waved at him excitedly, and Inosuke, although begrudgingly, waved back. He made a point to look in the opposite direction from Tanjiro, as if waving back was paining him.
Walking up from behind them, Nezuko stepped between Zenitsu and Tanjiro, putting a hand on each boys’ shoulder, smiling at Zenitsu.
“Tanjiro and I saved a cupcake for you,” she said cheerfully, but her voice suggested she was testing him. “It's been sitting in the fridge, did you wanna come get it?” She batted her eyelashes to add to the effect.
Zenitsu paused and thought about it before shaking his head mournfully. “I can’t,” he said, “Kaigaku is picking me and Inosuke up.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of Inosuke.
“You're not hanging out with your girlfriend?” And the trap was sprung.
Zenitsu didn't flinch. “We’re gonna meet with Inoko once we get there.” Despite his unflinchedness, his eye twitched slightly, as if he was lying.
Nezuko squinted, but her gaze shifted to behind Zenitsu, where Inosuke was. Tanjiro was looking there, too.
“What? What is it?” Zenitsu whipped around, and next to Inosuke stood Muichiro, his arms crossed.
“Have you ever met her?” Muichiro had to look up to see Inosuke's face, but he exuded apathetic confidence.
“Yeah, obviously,” Inosuke replied, huffing.
“Crap,” Zenitsu muttered under his breath. He quickly waved goodbye to the siblings and ran to Inosuke’s rescue. Muichiro tore his piercing stare away from Inosuke and hit Zenitsu with it instead.
“Oh, hey,” Muichiro said casually. “I was just chatting with Inosuke.”
Inosuke didn't look like he was up for chatting at all. He looked just about ready to leap at Muichiro.
“About what?” Zenitsu glanced between the two boys.
“Your girlfriend,” Inosuke answered before Muichiro could get a word in. “The one with the face. You know…” He seemed to be waiting for Zenitsu to fill in the blank.
“Her name is Inoko, dumbass.” Despite insulting Inosuke, Zenitsu seemed more anxious than anything.
Muichiro shifted his gaze between the two of them– red faced Zenitsu and frustrated Inosuke– and clicked his tongue. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Zenitsu,” he said, strolling off with as much disappointment as he could manage, which was a lot.
The two boys watched him leave, Inosuke's hand twitching as if he was just aching to punch him. Luckily for Muichiro, a car pulled up and rolled down the window, revealing the face of Kaigaku.
“Get in.” His voice reeked of impatience.
Zenitsu smiled slyly and elbowed Inosuke.
“Ready to go, Inoko?”
Their deal was simple: Inosuke, with his girly face, would pretend to be Zenitsu’s girlfriend during the dance. In return, Zenitsu would spend a weekend in the mountains with Inosuke. Neither of them were particularly thrilled about the arrangement, especially Zenitsu, but he did what had to be done and declared a temporary alliance.
Zenitsu sat in the back of the car, behind Kaigaku. Inosuke sat on the other side, with one seat in the center separating them. The boar seemed antsy, being trapped in a car.
Zenitsu had begged Kaigaku to let him sit in the passenger seat so he wouldn't have to sit next to Inosuke, but Kaigaku merely pushed him away by his forehead and told him to “hurry up and get in the back, or I'm driving off.”
He looked over at Inosuke, who was wearing the same outfit–or lack thereof–as usual, with the addition of some cheap pink flip flops. Zenitsu felt a migraine coming on.
“I told you to ditch that mask,” he yelled. “And wear a damn shirt!”
Inosuke crossed his arms over his unfortunately bare chest, huffing like a bratty kid. “I can't sense things if I’m wearing a shirt, I told you this!”
Zenitsu rubbed his temples. “You don't need to sense anything, it's a mall!” Sighing, he took off his jacket and handed it to Inosuke. “Just wear this. And ditch the mask. Please.”
His last addition seemed to break through to Inosuke, so he accepted the jacket, slipping it on and begrudgingly setting his helmet down.
It was then that Zenitsu was reminded of just how gorgeous Inosuke was. It was only amplified by the fact that he was actually wearing a shirt, not to mention that it was Zenitsu’s. The thought of it made his face a bit warm.
Zenitsu made a point of turning away and looking out the window, punctuating it with a “hmph.” If Inosuke noticed, he didn't say anything, simply staring straight ahead with a blank expression. Zenitsu stared at Inosuke’s reflection in the window, cursing himself for doing it.
After being dropped off, Inosuke and Zenitsu stood in front of the mall. Zenitsu was counting his money, and Inosuke was looking up, seemingly awed at the size of it, though the building wasn't all that big.
“You ever been to a mall before?” Zenitsu asked, not looking up.
Inosuke nodded. “Duh,” he said, but his tone was airy, as if his heart wasn't really in the lie. Zenitsu put his money back in his pocket and grabbed Inosuke by the arm and led him inside.
Inside, the mall was crowded with people and flooded with bright lights, and Zenitsu could hear Inosuke tense up.
“Just stay by me and you’ll be fine,” he said dismissively, taking his hand off of Inosuke's arm. Inosuke discreetly stepped closer to him. Zenitsu pulled out his phone, opening up a short shopping list he had typed out. “Alright,” he muttered, turning to Inosuke, who was inching closer to him, “we need to get some makeup first.”
Inosuke pursed his lips, his nose scrunching up slightly. It was still surprising to Zenitsu how expressive he was.
“Is makeup that stuff that girls put on their faces?” He asked.
“Not just girls, but yeah,” Zenitsu replied, tearing his eyes away from Inosuke’s face. He looked around the mall, squinting at the stores on the upper floors. Suddenly, he stuck out his arm, pointing at a store with the name written in hot pink. “There!”
After going up an escalator, which made Inosuke scream bloody murder, the two boys reached the store. The lighting was neon and the music was loud and full of bass. The inside had loads of makeup, so much that it made Zenitsu dizzy.
He clapped his hands together. "Alright, Inosuke," he said, his tone suddenly serious. "Are you ready?"
Inosuke, who was holding his breath, nodded. "I'm always ready!" he said, suddenly grinning. Zenitsu felt slightly breathless looking at him, but quickly recovered and marched inside.
Standing at the front was a lady with her hair up in a huge bun. She was wearing a very professional looking outfit. She smiled at them when they walked in.
“What can I help you with?” She asked politely. Inosuke’s eye twitched at the implication that he would ever need help, but Zenitsu slapped his hand over Inosuke's mouth before he could protest. The lady made a weird face but didn't say anything.
“We, uh, we’re going to a school dance this Friday,” Zenitsu explained, attempting to restrain Inosuke. “We need makeup for him.” He tilted his head in the direction of Inosuke, who nodded, no longer resisting.
The lady only seemed to get more confused, but, being a professional, she didn't ask any questions about it. “What kind of makeup are you thinking of?”
Zenitsu looked confused at the question, but his expression quickly turned to disgust when Inosuke licked his hand. “EW!”
“Girl makeup!” Inosuke answered enthusiastically as Zenitsu waved his hand around in the hopes of air drying it.
The lady seemed to blank completely, her expression going flat as if she had never seen a more peculiar pair of boys. She shook her head, her expression returning to her customer service smile as she regained her composure.
“Follow me,” she said, “we’ll see what we can do.”
Despite Zenitsu and Inosuke's fussing and arguing, the lady managed to help them pick out various makeup items in colors that would go well with Inosuke's complexion, and even gave them a brief demo on how to use them.
While she helped Inosuke pick a foundation color, which was difficult due to how disturbingly pale his face was, she turned to Zenitsu.
“Are you going to want anything?”
Zenitsu shook his head. “Nah, makeup’s not my thing.”
Inosuke whipped around. “Hey! If I have to wear makeup, so does my underling!” He stuck an eyeshadow brush in Zenitsu’s face accusingly.
“...underling?”
With great force, Inosuke leapt at Zenitsu, eyeshadow brush in hand.
“Hey! Get away from me!”
“Stop resisting! Wear the makeup!”
With a plastic bag full of makeup products hanging on his arm and the burn of makeup remover on his face, Zenitsu stood outside the store, grimacing at the price written on the receipt. He jammed it in the bag.
“When I get home, I’m burning this.” He shoved the bag towards Inosuke. “You carry this. It's heavy.”
Inosuke pouted, but did as he was told. “Only ‘cause you’re my underling,” he said, huffing.
Zenitsu waved his hands around, confused. “Okay, what is it with that ‘underling’ thing? What does that mean?” As Inosuke tried to respond, Zenitsu put his hand in front of the former boar’s face. “Nevermind, it's probably something really insulting. I don't wanna know, let's just go.”
As Zenitsu walked off, he got a glimpse of Inosuke's face before the boy followed suit. Zenitsu wasn't the best at reading expressions, but the sound matched: for some reason, he had upset Inosuke for just a moment.
“Alright,” Zenitsu said in the tone of a drill sergeant giving a brief as he and Inosuke stood in the middle of a large clothing store. “We need a dress, preferably one that’ll obscure–” he waved his hands vaguely around Inosuke’s torso and arms “--that, because it’s your most recognizable feature. And shoes! Ready?”
Inosuke seemed pumped up. “Yeah! How are we gonna find it?”
Zenitsu paused, furrowing his brows. He shrugged. “Wander around, I guess?”
Inosuke nodded. “Hell yeah!”
After ten minutes of getting lost in the store with no results other than Zenitsu losing Inosuke twice and having to chase him down both times, they passed a small jewelry display, and Zenitsu stopped in his tracks.
“Inosuke. Oh my god.” He spoke in a level, flat tone, tugging on Inosuke's sleeve. Inosuke stopped, turning around.
“What? What is it?”
Zenitsu pointed, and Inosuke’s eyes followed. In the middle of the display was a small brass pendant in the shape of a boar. Zenitsu giggled.
“You want it?” He asked, grinning, and Inosuke went silent for a moment, just staring at him.
“Uh, yeah.” He suddenly turned back into his normal self. “Yeah!”
“Alright,” Zenitsu said, reaching into his pocket. He pretended to be upset, groaning exaggeratedly. “If you insist.”
He grinned at Inosuke again, clearly more excited about the pendant than the actual boar was, and Inosuke felt warm and fuzzy again.
“Stupid Morchitzu,” he mumbled.
“I heard that!”
“How long does it take you to get into a dress?” Zenitsu shouted from outside the dressing room.
“I’m almost done!” Inosuke yelled back, his voice muffled. “Quit rushing me!”
Zenitsu huffed, sitting back down on the small bench. They had picked out a poofy green dress and some heels to match, though Inosuke had tried them on already and had struggled to stand.
“Alright!” Inosuke's victorious cry was slightly less muffled as he opened the door. Zenitsu looked up and immediately sucked in a breath.
The dress was the same color as Inosuke's eyes, and it was gorgeous; a mix of mesh, silk, lace, and embroidery all came together to make a dress that was worth the price, which was nothing to scoff at.
But all Zenitsu could stare at was Inosuke’s face. It wasn't any different than usual, and yet that's the only thing he wanted to look at.
“Well?” Inosuke put his hands on his hips, expecting some sort of answer. “Is it good?”
“It's wonderful,” Zenitsu answered immediately, looking Inosuke directly in the eyes. He suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing, and shook his head. “Yeah, the, uh, the dress is good. Let's get it.”
As they purchased their items and left the store, Inosuke didn't make any comment on Zenitsu’s weird behavior, perhaps out of the nonexistent kindness of his heart, or perhaps because he just didn't care. Zenitsu made a point not to look at him until the two of them were next to the food court and Inosuke shouted,
“I want to try hamburgers!”
Zenitsu quietly took a bite of his thin, average-quality burger while Inosuke chowed down on all three of his.
He had let Inosuke order after a minute of him loudly threatening Zenitsu to let him do it, and while ordering, he referred to Zenitsu as his underling yet again. He wasn't quite sure why, but it was getting on his nerves.
“Hey, Inosuke,” he said, setting down his food.
Inosuke didn't do the same, one burger in each hand. “Yeah?”
Zenitsu took a deep breath. “I know I said I didn't wanna know, but seriously. What is up with you calling me an ‘underling?’ Was insulting me not enough?”
Inosuke rolled his eyes, putting one of his burgers down. “It's not an insult, dumb-itsu.” He stuck out his hand, letting it hover just above the table. “Look: this is my opponents–” he moved his hand up a few inches, “--this is strangers–” his hand moved up to his eye level, “--this is underlings–” he moved his hand as high as it could go, grinning self-assuredly, “--and this is me!”
Zenitsu’s heart suddenly dropped to his stomach.
The whole time they knew each other, had Zenitsu been sorely mistaken about what Inosuke thought of him? He truly thought it was mutual hatred, but it seemed that an underling was just Inosuke's definition of a friend.
Had he been hating someone who liked him the whole time? Had Inosuke thought that Zenitsu liked him the whole time?
“Inosuke, I–” he began to choke out guiltily, but his phone, sitting on the table, began to buzz. Kaigaku was calling him to tell him it was time to go home.
“Uh,” Zenitsu shook his head, “nevermind that. Kaigaku’s here, we have to go.”
“I'll beat you there!” Inosuke announced before running off, and all Zenitsu could do was stare after him. He really was an idiot.
“You can sit in the passenger seat,” Kaigaku said when Zenitsu arrived.
Zenitsu looked at Inosuke, who was looking at him expectantly. He had slipped the helmet back on and had taken Zenitsu’s hoodie off, holding it out to him. Zenitsu felt his stomach turning.
As he climbed in the front seat, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw that same expression on Inosuke’s face that he had made outside of the makeup store. He had upset Inosuke.
“Hey, Zenitsu!” Tanjiro poked his head out of the door to the bakery. Zenitsu had gone on a walk to clear his head and Tanjiro had smelled that he was upset. He smiled encouragingly. “Wanna talk?”
Zenitsu looked down at the chocolate cupcake that was set on the table.
“The one we saved had gotten kind of gross, so Nezuko made a new one,” Tanjiro explained.
“Thanks,” Zenitsu muttered, taking a bite.
“So,” Tanjiro went on, “what's up?”
Zenitsu looked him up and down, as if gauging whether or not to confide in him. He was Tanjiro, so the answer was an obvious yes.
“I was hanging out with Inosuke today,” he said, “and I think I had it all wrong.”
“How so?”
“I thought we both hated each other, but as it turns out this whole time he thought of me as…his version of a friend.” Zenitsu took another bite of the cupcake. Even in his somberness it was delicious. “I guess I just feel bad that he's been friends with a guy who doesn't even like him. Maybe I should tell him that we aren't friends before he gets the wrong idea. Or continues to.”
Tanjiro smiled knowingly. “I don't think it's like that,” he said.
“What does that mean?” Zenitsu furrowed his eyebrows.
“You’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Zenitsu frowned.
“Why do you always have to be so damn cryptic?”