Chapter Text
Crows had quickly become one of Tanjiro’s favorite and least favorite animals. He could appreciate their cleverness, inconspicuous nature that made them perfect for demon slayers, their ability to fly vast distances to deliver orders and messages.
However. He did not appreciate the noise.
“North-northeast! North-northeast!” the thing screeched, uncaringly cawing his directions into the night as Tanjiro groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. “Three young girls have gone missing in a village to the north-northeast!”
He’d had plenty of time to get used to the less glamorous parts of demon slayer life. The constant danger, the uncertain paychecks, the brutality of having to run miles on miles at a time- he’d had to remind himself over oozing wounds and blistering feet why he chose this life. Nezuko’s invulnerability to those same human faults just made it all the more frustrating. It was his job as the eldest son to take care of her, and he never harbored a shred of resentment, but sometimes it was just so exhausting.
The crow, however, couldn’t care less about this.
“North-northeast, I got it,” Tanjiro tried to placate to no avail. Nezuko whined next to him, glaring at the crow with a hatred that would have killed a lesser bird. They’d only been at the butterfly mansion for a few days- long enough for Nezuko to pick up sign, and for Tanjiro to stumble through it- so he saw how Nezuko tried to sign ‘quiet’ at the crow, gesturing to their partners next door, before giving up and holding up a hand to the crow.
It made a confused mrrp? noise before hopping forward onto her hand, warbling much more softly than before as she gently scratched it’s head while Tanjiro finished packing up their first aid kit and Nezuko’s box- he didn’t anticipate this mission taking all night, but better safe than sorry.
“North-northeast,” it reminded them, much less abrasively than before. Nezuko nodded with a smile, setting it back on the windowsill. The crow sank into a black feathered blob for a moment before shaking itself out with a loud squawk and flapping back into the night.
“We should try that again next time,” Tanjiro suggested as they pulled on their shoes and got moving. “I bet they’d be a lot nicer if more slayers were kind to them.” Nezuko hummed in agreement, signing Nice to them, nice in return.
If only Inosuke had half the brains his sister did. He’d be a much more pleasant person to spend time with.
(Tanjiro was also grateful that Aoi hadn’t explained to Nezuko what ‘greened out’ was. He’d only found out himself a few weeks ago, and didn’t want her getting any ideas about drugs, even recreational ones. He wasn’t in charge of Inosuke, but that was the last thing he needed for Nezuko right now.)
They didn’t have to run far- whoever this demon was, they’d picked a foolish spot to grab a meal. He followed the wet, bitter scent to the outskirts of the town, drifting away from the sparse lights and further into the woods. A year ago, the suffocating darkness would have terrified him- now, he patiently waited for his eyes to adjust while searching the woods for some kind of structure while Nezuko guided him. They usually liked to hide somewhere with cover.
There. The scent suddenly sharpened, biting through the late summer air, accented with the heavy stink of iron and copper. Tanjiro’s grip on his katana tightened- if he was going to find this thing, he needed to do it now. Nezuko had picked it up a moment before him, already throwing herself forward towards the dark shadow he now knew was an old wood shed. A black liquid spilled out from underneath it, catching the light of the half moon innocently as water.
He arrived a half-step after Nezuko, but long enough for her to dart forward into the yawning maw of a ruined doorway, freezing as blood poured over her from above. Without a second thought, she leaped into the rafters with a screech, ripping the demon inside to ribbons and trusting Tanjiro to catch the girls as they fell. One, two- one missing a slipper, but he planned on carrying them back anyway- but didn’t the crow say three?
Nezuko’s talon-like nails made short work of the demon, reducing it to bloody strips of flesh in no time. It fell from its perch in the roof onto the floor in front of Tanjiro, sending the two girls scattering to hide behind him. Keeping his katana ready, he approached the remains and watched for the telltale signs it was stitching itself back together- nothing. Ash quickly replaced fingers, limbs, until the spider-like demon had evaporated. Tanjiro suppressed a shiver- ever since Mt. Natagumo, he’d picked up an irrational hatred of spiders.
Nezuko clumsily clambered down next, holding the last girl. She was younger than the other two, and Tanjiro would guess they knew each other based on how they ran forward to see her. She was badly hurt- a long gash over her back, dripping too much blood- but if they could get her to a doctor, she would be fine. Something struck him as wrong at first, until he realized it was just Nezuko holding her breath. They should get to the village, quickly.
“You two have been so brave,” Tanjiro offered to the two older girls. “I’m sure you’re eager to get home. Can you show my sister and I where your doctor lives? The faster we go, the faster your friend can get help.”
They looked at each other for a moment, some silent conversation that he and Nezuko hadn’t been invited to, before the older one nodded solemnly and grabbed his hand. She set a good pace for the village, running as best she could after days of malnourishment and exhaustion, pointing to a house at the end of the street with a clearly marked doorway. That must be their doctor.
“Nezuko, I’ll take her from here,” he instructed. “You get these kids back home. I’ll find you when I’m finished, alright?” He took the girl from her outstretched arms, and a wave of bitter nostalgia hit him like a brick. How many times had they made an exchange like this, but instead of a stranger, it was Rokuta napping somewhere he shouldn’t have or Shigeru falling asleep after staying up too late waiting for Tanjiro to come home?
God. On nights like tonight, he missed them more than anything.
He inhaled sharply, pulling himself together. Nezuko nodded and set off with the older girls, taking their hands to walk them back to their homes. Homes with anxiously waiting families and open arms, warm fireplaces and familiar beds. He wished he could give that to Nezuko. He wished he could give it back to their siblings.
Tanjiro wanted to go home, too.
He didn’t realize he’d run all the way down the street to the doctor before he was using his foot to rap on the door, looking up at the older man who answered. Tanjiro was rushed inside and instructed to put the girl on the cleared kitchen counter, rolled onto her side so he could examine her wounds.
“Do you know what kind of weapon caused this?”
“I’m not sure. But based on what was in that shed, I’m sure it couldn’t have been clean.”
“How long has she been openly bleeding for?”
“Seven minutes, at least. That’s about how long ago I found her, I don’t think this happened long before that.”
He was familiar with this line of questioning. Most doctors wanted a more thorough history than Tanjiro was able to give them, asking about infection history and timelines he couldn’t provide. He knew most slayers didn’t bother to stay for this part, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon a kid like that. Maybe it was the older brother in him. Maybe he was just too empathetic for his own good.
Footsteps and ragged breathing preceded the door being thrown open by just a few moments, as a young woman flew forward towards the doctor.
“Is Hana okay?” she begged. “Please, is she going to be alright? Oh, God, thank you for helping her, doctor!”
“Yes, Keiko, she’ll be fine,” the doctor assured. “The wound is large, but not deep. It thankfully missed her spine by just centimeters. And don’t thank me,” he instructed while gesturing to Tanjiro, “thank this young man. He’s the one that brought her here.”
The woman turned to face him, eyes brimming with tears. She bowed low, taking his hand in both of hers. “Thank you,” she told him earnestly. “Hana is my youngest sister, she means the world to my family. How can we ever repay you?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tanjiro returned cheerfully despite the nausea crawling up his throat. “This is what I do. I’m glad she could come back to your family safe and sound.”
The doctor instructed Keiko to go home and summon her parents, Tanjiro offering to walk with her on muscle memory. Nezuko had to be almost done by now, right? He needed an excuse to leave. He needed to get out of here and collect himself before the memory of his dead brothers and sisters suffocated him. Nezuko would know. She always knew.
They rounded the corner to Keiko’s home, where Tanjiro robotically excused himself to find his sister. His only sister, the one he didn’t completely fail. Oh, lord, he really did need to get out of here. Keiko was down the street already, waving goodbye with a ‘thank you’ thrown over her shoulder. He managed to get himself back to the town square before Nezuko found him- how backwards. He’d promised to find her.
She tilted her head to better look in his eyes, frowning when he was unable to return her gaze. Using two gentle hands- cold, yet softer than they’d ever been when she was human- she forced his eyes up from the ground, expression remaining carefully neutral when the tears spilled over.
“Sorry, Nezuko.” Tanjiro cleared his throat, wiped his eyes. He didn’t have time for this, they had to get back, or get going, it didn’t matter where their next destination was because it was away. He couldn’t look at all these happy families and responsible older siblings and living parents any more.
She refused to let go of his face, gently pushing their foreheads together before leaning back again. Go home now, she signed, and took his hand. Tanjiro let her pull him forward, away from everything they’d lost- because it wasn’t just him, wasn’t it? Nezuko was going through the same things he was. Yes, he’d been the eldest son, their breadwinner and caretaker after their father died, but who was at home to be Mother’s right hand while he was away? Who woke up first to soothe their younger siblings when Mother was too exhausted? Who remembered that he needed to be taken care of sometimes, too?
So when Nezuko insisted on leading the way, Tanjiro let her. He was tired- so, so tired. Tired of the grief, of the anger, of missing them . He was tired of being responsible for everyone and everything. He would never resent it- no, none of it was futile, he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world- but it was exhausting.
Later, in the morning, he would know better. He would apologize for making her do that, even though she’d offered and tried to tell him so. He would promise to do better, to be better, to hide his cracks and fault lines from the only other person who could forgive them.
But that was for the morning. And for tonight, Tanjiro let her lead the way.
+++
Nezuko was getting worried about Tanjiro.
Yes, she’d had her share of issues recently. Yes, they still needed to be resolved. That didn’t mean Tanjiro would stop hurting in the meantime. It hadn’t gotten noticeable until recently- but this mission, bringing the girls back to their home and knowing they had everything waiting for them that Nezuko and Tanjiro would never get back- she didn’t want to say it was cruel, but insensitive? Absolutely.
Thankfully, Nezuko was used to it by now. She didn’t flinch when the girls held hands and exchanged knowing glances the way she used to do with Hanako when their brothers were doing something dumb, or when their older sister answered the door and rushed away to find their youngest sister, Hana. Of all the names.
She didn’t react when their parents welcomed them home with open arms, thanking Nezuko for bringing them back safe- warmly, but keeping their distance nonetheless. It didn’t bother her anymore. She’d smiled, bowed and taken her leave from people who clearly knew what she was. Nezuko knew where she wasn’t wanted.
Tanjiro, though- he didn’t go anywhere without being praised and celebrated. She didn’t think last night was much different, but it had clearly affected him. Much more than it usually would. He couldn’t even meet her eyes, ashamed that he couldn’t be a constant pillar of patience and strength after all this time. Nezuko knew him too well. It was too much sometimes, the crippling burden of grief and despair. She’d known it well before she got used to seeing a familiar face in every stranger.
Tanjiro was the eldest son. He took great pride in it, and rightfully so. He dutifully upheld that responsibility, the head of their now small family. He did it so well, in fact, that people tended to forget he was only fifteen to Nezuko’s equally pathetic thirteen. Well, thirteen and a half, but she rounded up and down as she pleased.
She managed to get both of them back to the Butterfly Mansion in one piece, signing to Zenitsu when he came to greet them that it had been a long night and Tanjiro would probably need to sleep in. Tanjiro made both him and Inosuke learn the basics of sign, so he understood enough of what Nezuko was trying to say. Tanjiro had slipped off his shoes and haori before unceremoniously flopping into bed, asleep again before Nezuko could remind him to take off his uniform. Oh, well. There were only a few more hours until dawn, anyway.
And now, her main issue. Nezuko was still unfortunately covered in blood. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why the family was so off-put by her. She sometimes forgot that her status as a non-human wasn’t common knowledge to the world. It had stained her kimono to near ruin, and dried along her face and in her hair. The scent at first had been overpowering, forcing her to stop breathing during the fight- and while not strictly necessary for her, she wasn’t used to it. The rise and fall of her chest had become muscle memory more than anything else.
The water flowing through the mansion was cold, and for a girl that was already dead, that meant it was icy. She changed into some of Tanjiro’s old clothes that no longer fit while the bucket she’d use to soak her kimono filled, and hesitated when her hands brushed the fabric of the gag. Surely it would be fine to take it off for a while? It was the middle of the night, no one was awake. No one would see her.
With steadier hands than she expected, Nezuko let it fall to the floor, muffled by the abandoned kimono. She sucked in a deep breath through her mouth, expecting and allowing the heavy taste of sweet, metallic blood to wash over her. You have no power over me, she jeered to the animalistic part of her that howled to destroy and devour as she stepped into the hallway and turned off the water. The scent faded as she plunged the kimono into it, though not by much. It still coated her face and hair- really, she was more worried about that. It was going to be a pain to get all of it out.
“Wh’s all the noise ‘bout?” Zenitsu grumbled from his doorway. He froze when he saw Nezuko crouched next to the bucket, both of them carefully regarding the other for a long moment before he cleared his throat. “Oh. Um. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” he rushed.
“No, it’s fine,” Nezuko returned, surprising herself. “I- well, we just got back, so. I wasn’t going to sleep any time soon.” She gestured to the mess all over her face and arms. Zenitsu hummed in understanding- benefits of shared working hazards.
“I can help,” he offered. “I wasn’t sleeping either. Is there anything I can do?”
Nezuko smiled- something genuine and warm. “That would be great! If you can just mix this soap into the water and scrub wherever the worst stains are- yes, just like that. I’ll get started on my face.” She happily left Zenitsu to her clothes, splashing cold water on her face and watching it come away red. The scent of blood faded with every moment as it swirled down the drain, the cracking dry patches coming away easily.
Her hair, though- that was a different story. She was almost more upset about that than she was about her kimono. It was matted together in clumps, which she approached by teasing them out one at a time with her nails. Eventually, she gave up on taking her time and just dunked her head under the water, scrubbing at her scalp with nails that would have drawn blood on anyone else. The blood that seeped out of it seemed more dense than anywhere else, pouring out with renewed force every time she wrung out the length. She seriously considered just cutting it off out of sheer frustration- it would probably grow back anyway.
The sound of the running water, her own train of thought, and Zenitsu’s presence to her right all successfully drowned out the sound of the Insect Hashira’s approach.
She made eye contact with Shinobu on her third rinse as she leaned up to squeeze out the water. It dripped red onto the floors and down her freshly clean skin as she waited, frozen, for Lady Shinobu’s verdict. Her mouth felt suddenly, horribly empty as she remembered the gag sitting no less than ten feet away near where Zenitsu sat.
Lady Shinobu shifted her stack of papers to her other hand, the motion prompting Nezuko to spiral back- her mouth moved before her mind could, offering a soft ‘I’m sorry’ as she retreated a few steps. The Hashira only raised an eyebrow in response, humming slightly.
“So you do speak.”
Nezuko shifted in place, unsure of whether or not trying to run would make her situation worse. “I- um. Yes. I do. Sometimes. I don’t really know how it works. Sorry.” The words spilled out one after the other, tumbling aimlessly to the floor.
Lady Shinobu offered her an unexpected soft smile, replacing her look of surprise. “Don’t be sorry, dear, you have nothing to apologize for. Do you want detangling oil? I find that makes a significant difference.”
Nezuko nods, somewhat numb as Lady Shinobu walks away. That’s… it? But Nezuko broke the rules. She took the gag off, she wandered around by herself, she spoke. Didn’t that mean something? Wasn’t she in trouble? She stood unmoving until Zenitsu called from behind her, confused.
“What did Miss Shinobu want?” he asked, tilting his head to one side with a watchful frown. “You okay?”
“... I think so,” Nezuko breathed. “I think so, yeah. I’m okay. She asked if I wanted detangler.” It seemed ridiculous, in hindsight. She’d used it before, obviously, but not for years now. She’d just never needed it, or thought to use it.
Zenitsu smiled, going back to his work without explaining. Nezuko took her place next to the sink once more as Lady Shinobu rounded the corner with an inconspicuous bottle and instructed her to wring out the rest of the water from her hair.
“It’s more effective on dry hair, but as long as it’s not dripping it’ll be fine,” she instructed. She parted Nezuko’s hair down the center of her head and started combing the oil through the lengths without hesitation, always teasing apart the knots she encountered rather than pulling. Nezuko quickly followed suit, busying her hands with pulling the oil through the same way Miss Shinobu did.
It was… strange, to be sure, but nice. The stubborn clumps and knots she’d been trying to target easily fell apart one after the other, and the two of them worked in comfortable silence for a long time.
“Where’s Tanjiro?” Lady Shinobu asked softly. Nezuko jumped a little before composing herself. “Oh. Um- he fell asleep already. This was a hard one, so I didn’t want to wake him,” she explained.
Lady Shinobu frowned slightly, though her heartbeat assured Nezuko that it was concern and not annoyance. “Is he alright? Should I have Aoi look at him in the morning?” she asked, a note of that same concern bleeding into her voice.
“No, no, he’s physically fine- just…” Nezuko’s voice dropped so that Zenitsu wouldn’t hear as easily. “Hard in the emotional sense. It was a long night for both of us.”
The Hashira hummed in understanding, combing her fingers through it once, twice before running Nezuko’s hair under the water again. “I see,” she mused.
She smiled to herself, just barely visible out of the corner of Nezuko’s eye. “You know, I used to do this with my sister all the time. She would get so uptight about keeping up appearances, with our whole butterfly motif. I never really understood it when I was younger.”
Nezuko looked back at her while her ends stayed under the flow of the water. “I didn’t know you had a sister,” she breathed.
Lady Shinobu’s smile never wavered. “Oh, yes. Kanae was just a few years older than me, but I would completely idolize her- being the insect hashira, and all that. I was so excited to take over her position someday, and then I learned just how much paperwork was involved.”
Nezuko snorted lightly at that- come to think of it, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a cabinet or folder in the Butterfly Mansion empty of paper, whether they be records or contracts or any assortment of other things. Lady Shinobu was thorough with her paper trail, to be sure.
Lady Shinobu brought the halves of Nezuko’s hair back together, combing through with her fingers in peaceful silence. Zenitsu’s humming from down the hall drifted towards them on the night air, a melody Nezuko didn’t recognize but found comforting all the same. He’d finished with the top layer and had moved on to the battered interior, diligently scrubbing at the deep stains on the inside. Nezuko winced- those probably weren’t coming out, but she appreciated that he was trying. Lady Shinobu followed her gaze and laughed softly, finishing a braid Nezuko didn’t realize she’d started.
“There, finished,” she declared triumphantly. “Now, it’s late, both of you. Off to bed. There’s no work left that can’t wait until morning.”
Zenitsu gave her a solemn salute, standing at attention with a barely contained grin. She smiled at his antics as they separated into their rooms- Zenitsu disappearing into his own, Nezuko slipping into hers and Tanjiro’s, and Lady Shobu disappearing back to wherever she came from to begin with.
Nezuko ran her fingertips over the braid in wonder. It was neat, perfectly sectioned, and tight without pulling on her scalp. Beautiful work , she marveled as she clambered back into bed and changed her size to better burrow under Tanjiro’s outstretched arm. He’d fallen soundly asleep- no wonder too, with how late it had gotten. The time really had slipped away from Nezuko.
She didn’t do much sleeping the rest of the night. Rather, she traced the braid over and over again, replaying Lady Shinobu’s words in her mind. She was only a few years older than me, but I idolized her.
Nezuko was hit with a wave of guilty gratitude that it had been her and not Hanako sentenced to live as a demon. The thought of her baby sister never being able to stand in the sunrise again filled her with deep, powerful grief. Maybe Hanako was gone, but she’d lived and died as a human. She would never know what this felt like- the only small mercy in their long history of tragedy.
In the end, as the sun rose and Tanjiro apologized for being human, that was all that really stuck with her. Gratitude. Gratitude that she’d been the one to shoulder this burden, in the end. Gratitude that no one she loved would have to suffer the way she suffered, as she remembered to tie the bamboo around her head again when Tanjiro first showed signs of waking.
Gratitude that, of all things, she was alone in this.