Chapter Text
It was dark. Tanjiro’s pupils not yet dilated enough to see under the dim light of the stars nor around the faint light of the almost extinguished bonfire.
It was late, or rather early. They’d made it to the river by midnight, as they had expected. A few minutes of finding the right spot to stay the night and they were already getting ready to rest. Blankets from the backpacks to sleep on, and a cozy fire to not freeze to death by daybreak. After spending the day running, only a few minutes took for sleep to take them.
It was a feeling, what woke Tanjiro up. A sound, or maybe a smell, he wasn’t sure himself. After blinking a couple of times and giving his eyes a moment to adapt he started taking information in. Everything seemed fine. No movement through the trees, no shadows behind the rocks, no noise at all except for the crepitations of the now agonizing embers. At most, a branch losing a leaf after a bat flew too close for its liking.
It wasn’t a sound what woke him, then.
He closed his eyes effortlessly and, with care, took a breath. The murky air of the woodlands went into Tanjiro’s nose and he visualized it. Breath after breath he pictured everything, every detail. He saw the bonfire, after taking the cinders’ scent in. He saw the leafy ground and the wet herbs after taking in its dew. He saw the ocean, after taking in a single salty droplet.
But how could he? They were on a riverbank, not on the shore.
Tanjiro opened his eyes, dazed. He looked to his side, where Genya was cluelessly resting. Everything made sense then. Looking at Genya he found it. The ocean. The salty droplets he smelled. Sweat on the boy’s face.
It was odd, Tanjiro thought. It was a cold night. It was cold enough to numb your fingers if you didn’t keep them close to your core.
Maybe Genya was feeling unwell. He hadn’t said anything during the trip, not even a complain, but that would be expected from someone as guarded as Genya. So, of course, Tanjiro worried.
Without a second thought he moved towards his companion, getting closer.
Oh
The passing of time gave Tanjiro a new perception. A new outlook. It wasn’t sweat. The droplets on Genya’s face weren’t sweat. Though equally salty, they were tears. He was crying. So maybe, at the end of the line, Tanjiro was right. The boy wasn’t feeling well.
If Tanjiro hadn’t smelled the salt, he would have never realized Genya was crying, as he was doing it in complete silence. He was so naturally quiet at crying it seemed he didn’t know there was any other way.
He wanted to wipe the tears away. He wanted them not to bother Genya anymore. He knew the weight one single tear could carry. Only water and salt, and yet… He wanted to lift that weight from him.
With that in mind, he rose his hand towards Genya’s face, so close he could feel the heat emanating from his skin, the humidity from his dripping eyes. But he hesitated. He just had to move his fingers. A flinch of them and he’d be there. Fingertips itchy, expectant of what was yet to come. But it didn’t come. Tanjiro’s hand stopped mid-air.
He remained there, as still as the trees around them. The only movement, his earrings dancing with the leaves as the morning breeze blew lightly.
He retracted. Lowering his hand from Genya’s unaware expression, he eventually laid it flat on the boy’s chest.
He wanted to wiggle him a bit to at least release him from the torment of his mind, but wavered as well. He got closer instead, shrinking the distance between them and whispered.
“Genya” and waited. “Genya, you should wake up”.
A hand, Genya’s hand crawled until it tentatively rested on top of Tanjiro’s. The grip was almost nonexistent, as the hand was limp. Genya still deep in sleep. Tanjiro looked down, at the point of contact.
Genya was so rough sometimes, so who would have thought his hands would be so soft? So warm? But of course Tanjiro should have known better. He did know better. He knew Genya’s hands were as rough as he was, were as warm as he was.
It was peaceful like that. Their hands together, not holding, but close enough. Rising up and down in accord with Genya’s breathing. A mesmerizing rhythm.
He got so absent-minded looking down that he barely realized when Genya’s hand got stiff.
He blinked.
Then the hand was gone. So was the warmth.
He looked up and found Genya, eyes open with a mix of residual sleep and unexpected awe. Puzzled.
“Em” Genya babbled, without much more purpose than to earn a few more seconds to collect himself.
“Good morning” he smiled, closing his eyes and tilting his head. “Did you sleep well?”
“Sure, sure. Like a log” he lied smoothly.
Genya sit up, the first step for standing up. Before that, he felt it. One residual tear, one that got trapped on the sides of his eye, fell freely down his cheek as gravity finally got to affect it.
His breath caught and he stole a glance at Tanjiro. He rapidly covered the tear with his hand, as if it would make it disappear.
Tanjiro looked back, expression kind. He wanted to express Genya it was alright.
I saw. But it’s okay.
He wanted to give Genya an opening. A Peace Branch. He was not going to judge. How could he? He wanted Genya to know they could talk about it. About whatever.
Tears ache less if they’re shared.
They could do that. They could cry together. Tanjiro felt Genya could understand him. Could understand what it’s like to lose your family. Could understand what it's like to survive them. The guilt. The regret.
He wanted Genya to open up, he wanted to open up to Genya.
In that very moment, in that very instant, he wanted many more things that he had ever wanted in the past three years.
But Genya was not going to give them to him that easily.
He managed to stand up, patted his clothes to get rid of a few single strands of grass that got attached to them and cleared his throat.
“We shouldn’t wait much more. It’s going to be a long run until the meander village and we’ll be late if we don’t leave soon”.
Like that, Genya refused Tanjiro’s Peace Branch. He wasn’t ready. Not yet.
Tanjiro nodded. He understood. He tried to understand. He had always been an easygoing person, for the good and for the bad. People always said he wore his heart on his sleeve, and maybe they were right. He trusted people, he relied on them. He let people in. Not because he couldn’t help it, but because he felt it right. Love is a double-edged sword, or so they say.
To be loved, to be seen, you need to expose the very depths of your core. It’s hard, it’s terrifying, but it’s so rewarding.
Tanjiro had always had people there for him. His family first, but after them, he had Tomioka, and then Urokodaki, and then Haganezuka, and then Ubuyashiki, and then Zenitsu and Inosuke, and then, and then, and then…
But who did Genya have?
How can someone who’s always walked down a path by themselves accept suddenly a companion to walk alongside them?
It’s like being in the dark for so long that when you open your eyes it burns. You may have the most breathtaking view anyone has ever contemplated right in front of you, but its brightness blinds you. Its beauty pains you. Your eyes need to adapt, like Tanjiro’s did right after waking up. But once they’ve adapted and you look again, you realize the view was worth the wait. Was worth the pain.
With a new and hardly earned hope, Tanjiro stand up and joined Genya.
The meander village needed them, so they lost no time to start running again.
And who knows? Maybe today’s run could be the next step to Genya’s adapting process. Maybe, that day could be a good day.