Chapter Text
It becomes an everyday sort of thing.
Everyday, Tanjiro finds Zenitsu by the cherry blossom tree, and sits with him underneath its shade. Everyday, Zenitsu tells himself he's not going to go there because he knows he'll find Tanjiro there, but he always finds himself there anyway. It doesn't make sense, they never have any plans coordinated, but they both know to find each other there.
What makes even less sense is that Zenitsu is supposed to avoid Tanjiro, but he never does. He still goes to his tree, their tree by now, and is forced to deal with Tanjiro's presence. Unfortunately, it's not as horrid as he wants it to be so he can resent him freely, but it is flustering because Tanjiro is a shameless flirt.
They've been 'dating' for a week now, emphasis on the quote unquote, because they aren't. Not really. At least not by Zenitsu's standards. Everyday of that week, when he sees Tanjiro by the tree or when they text for hours a time till he disappears for his part time job, he tells himself he's going to break up with Tanjiro.
He hasn't managed to do so till now, mainly because he's a coward, partially because Tanjiro is nice. Sometimes, when Zenitsu is alone, he thinks about the moment when he tells Tanjiro the truth. That it's nothing more than a misunderstanding, that Nezuko is the one he's in love with not him, he imagines his reaction. The reactions range from anger to stillness to sadness.
Tanjiro is soft and nice, smiles all the time like a human personification of the sun, and being the reason why that smile crumples into something else sort of doesn't sit well with him at all.
So he does what he does best when something stresses him out, the same thing he does when it comes to studying a subject he hates or dealing with Kaigaku. He procrastinates.
💘
On week two of their supposed relationship, Tanjiro meets him under their tree, bearing sunny smiles and a gift in his hands. Zenitsu can't help but perk up despite himself.
"I brought you a little something," Tanjiro says, extending the wrapped box to Zenitsu. The cloth the box is covered in is yellow, most likely intentional because Zenitsu wears so much of it, and just that tiny note of caring warms his heart just the slightest bit. "It's nothing special though so don't get your hopes up."
Zenitsu looks at Tanjiro, taking in the dust of pink that colors his cheeks, and the way he plays with his hanafuda earrings. A nervous tick. Honestly, Zenitsu hasn't seen Tanjiro this nervous since the horrible confession day that he wishes he could remove from his memory. Another unfortunate thing he's unable to do since that moment has been branded into his skull, so horribly mortifying, he'll never be able to forget it.
Still, Tanjiro's uncharacteristic shyness piques his curiosity, causing him to hastily unwrap the box. It's tied in a double knot and the quality of the fabric isn't the best, so it makes it hard to remove without tearing it, but Zenitsu tries his best to make sure he opens it carefully enough so that it doesn't.
Because the cloth is yellow, and yellow is nice, that's the only reason.
The box is revealed to be plain black, and if he's not mistaken, this looks like a bento. It shouldn't be that shocking because they're in a 'relationship' now, but somehow it still is. Zenitsu swallows, nobody ever made him a bento before. He's not the best at cooking, but he made some simple dishes for previous exes before, but nobody ever made anything for him.
It makes him more emotional than it should, over something so simple.
Gingerly, he pops the lid open, but instead of finding the typical Japanese dishes like onigiri and fried squid, he's surprised to find delicacies instead. They're all pastries ranging from croissants and danishes to mini pieces of cake and a loaf of fresh bread, most definitely not what he was expecting. It's still nice though, Zenitsu has quite the sweet tooth, so he appreciates it.
"I baked you some stuff when I woke up for the morning shift because I had some extra time," Tanjiro mumbles, a sheepish smile on his face. "It might be a bit much, but I didn't know what you preferred so I brought a bit of everything. Oh, but I made you a lemon and a mint chocolate cake since you mentioned you liked those!"
It's such a sweet gesture, probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him, and it would be a lie to say he's not blinking back emotional tears. It's hard to hold them at bay, doesn't want to look like a weirdo who cries over dessert, but he can't help it.
Because Tanjiro pays attention to him when he talks, listens to his rambles, and took time out of his day to make something especially for him. Zenitsu, a person who often only has his flowery words to offer and no actions to back them up, is very touched by the loud act of kindness Tanjiro did for him.
Why is Tanjiro so nice? Fuck.
"Wow, thank you," Zenitsu says after a few moments of silence, after he's made sure he won't sob into Tanjiro's pastries or in his shoulder. "I - yeah - thank you, I, I really appreciate it."
Tanjiro laughs, but looks pleased, as he pinches Zenitsu's cheek. "Don't thank me yet, my stuff is usually a hit or miss."
Zenitsu nods, ignoring the warmth that blossoms on his face where Tanjiro touched him, and goes for the mint chocolate cake instead.
It tastes like bliss; the fudge layer of chocolate melting into the mint chocolate chips on top, the contrast popping in his mouth. He takes another bite, closing his eyes and humming in delight, because this just might be his new favorite thing.
"Mmf...thish tastes," he pauses to swallow because he sounds like an idiot. "This tastes amazing! Did you really make these?"
Tanjiro nods, red high on his cheeks, playing with his earrings again and tugging on them. "Yes, yes I did. I - baking is sort of my thing, that's what my part time job is."
Zenitsu had wondered because Tanjiro was always so vague about it, never saying what he does, but apparently he's very good at it. He takes another bite finishing the mini cake, before he picks up the danish and starts that too, finds it just as delicious. Still, he's biased towards the mint chocolate, is sad that it finished so soon.
"Well you're really good at it," Zenitsu says, making sure he's chewed his food before speaking. "Thank you for sharing with me!"
"It's only my pleasure," Tanjiro smiles, folding his hands in his lap. "I'm happy you like it."
And that's when Zenitsu belatedly realizes that Tanjiro doesn't actually have any food with him, and feels like a douchebag. There's not much left, Zenitsu sort of blew through most of it, but he takes the eclair and the loaf of bread that are left and offers them to Tanjiro.
"Here, you didn't have any," Zenitsu says, proffering them to him.
Tanjiro shakes his head, "I don't need to, I've eaten enough of my own desserts to last me a life time."
Zenitsu frowns, feeling bad about eating in front of Tanjiro while he eats nothing, and considers his options. In the end, he decides sharing would be nice, so he carefully breaks them in half while wiping off the crumbs and offers them to Tanjiro. Tanjiro's eyes widen in surprise, before he reluctantly takes them from him, their fingers brushing against each other lightly. His fingers tingle where they touched, but honestly, Zenitsu starts to tingle whenever and wherever Tanjiro touches him so he should just get used to it.
Blushing, Tanjiro takes a reluctant bite out of the croissant, smiling at Zenitsu gratefully for sharing even though he's the one who made it. He frowns slightly before taking another larger bite, basically inhaling the food, making Zenitsu feel guilty for not leaving him any more.
They sit quietly like that, enjoying the food together, and Zenitsu is reminded of how his Gramps always said food always tastes better with good company. Food always tastes nice with Inosuke, was bland with Kaigaku because he's always too nervous around him. The food does taste pretty good now though, and Tanjiro's company isn't that bad, so maybe that's true.
"I - would you be willing to meet me tomorrow?" Tanjiro asks suddenly, fingers playing with his earrings again. “In the afternoon maybe, after classes?”
"What, here?" Zenitsu questions, dread piling up in his chest because he actually wanted to go home and study.
Tanjiro shakes his head, "Um no, I was thinking maybe off campus? Y'know, like a date."
"A date?" Zenitsu repeats balefully.
"Yes, a date," Tanjiro nods, closing the lid on the bento box and wrapping it up again carefully. "It would be nice."
Ahh, a date. A date is often a romantic setting where people sit together for long stretches of time and talk about themselves and their emotions. People in relationships do tend to do things like that, Zenitsu thinks. They're usually nice too, or painfully awkward, but supposedly nice.
They also used to be an opportunity for Zenitsu to flex his romantic gestures and woo the girls, or well, attempts have been made to woo the girls. Now, however, he understands that Tanjiro is trying to woo him, and he’s quite positive he doesn’t want that.
“I guess that would be nice,” Zenitsu says, mouth dry as he tries to wrack his brain for any possible excuse to get himself out of this one.
“It’s fine if you’re busy, it was just a thought,” Tanjiro seems to pick up on his hesitation, shaking his head with a small laugh. The forced, awkward kind of laugh when people try to make things appear to mean less than it actually does to them, and it’s grating on his ears to hear.
Guilt roils in his stomach, tormenting him at the thought that he hurt Tanjiro’s feelings by making him think he doesn’t want to spend time with him, as true as it may be. Anxiously, he watches Tanjiro avoid eye contact with him as he takes too much time turning away from him to put the bento box back in his bag.
Fuck, Tanjiro even made him such a nice lunch and didn’t make any for himself, and Zenitsu is being a selfish asshole who doesn’t even want to give him the courtesy of a date. He really feels like an idiot.
“Oh, I’m not busy at all,” Zenitsu replies, tugging on his ponytail nervously. He’s trying to do damage control at this point, so his mouth just runs along with his nerves, and he hopes he blacks out whatever embarrassing things he says now so it doesn’t mortify him later. “I was – I thought I had an assignment, but turns out I already did it! I’m totally free, yeah, I would love to go out on a date with you!”
Tanjiro turns back to him with a tentative grin on his face, “Really?”
Zenitsu swallows, trying to bury both his nervousness and his guilt for lying to his face like this, and nods. “Of course.”
Tanjiro’s face blossoms into a sunny grin, very similar to the picture he sent him over text, and his heart tugs in his chest the same way. Or no, it’s more acute this time, the intensity of his shine is just that blinding. Before, Zenitsu can react, Tanjiro is throwing his arms around him in a hug that very much catches off guard.
“I knew you’d say yes,” Tanjiro says.
Ahh, it would seem that Zenitsu has been played.
Tanjiro pulls away, but keeps his hands on his shoulders, his smile more playful this time. He’s basically in Zenitsu’s lap like this, and he really tries his hardest not to think too hard about that.
“Meet me by the gate at five?” he asks.
He nods mutely, letting Tanjiro’s hand grasp his, and pull him up with a kind of strength he didn’t think his rather small and petite physique possessed. He gasps, suddenly standing tall, stumbling slightly and Tanjiro steadies him by putting his calloused hands on his hips. It disorients him, doesn’t know how to react to it, hates the creeping warmth on his neck.
“Okay,” Zenitsu replies belatedly, slightly breathless even though all he’s done is sit.
Soon after, they both part ways to go back to their respective classes, his eyes watching Tanjiro’s retreating figure as he walks towards the art department. He watches him till his figure grows smaller and smaller till he eventually disappears around a corner, but is still hyper aware of the feeling of his hands on his shoulders, his waist.
He tries to focus in class but fails miserably.
💘
Tomorrow finds Zenitsu finishing class early for the first time all semester, and he tries not to be bitter as he stuffs his books into his bag, ignoring Inosuke’s loud rambles. He’s talking about a new video game that came out and how awesome it is, and yes, Zenitsu is listening. He’s just also filled with dread so he can’t muster up the energy to be enthusiastic with him.
His phone pings.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. At this point, Zenitsu is almost positive that just thinking of Tanjiro’s name is enough to summon him.
Tangerine
I’m waiting by the gate ^^ Sent at 4:42pm
Zenitsu sighs, feeling that same thrum of nervousness, he didn’t even have a chance to collect himself before going.
Me
Punctual much?
Tangerine
Haha no I’m usually an hour late to everything
It drives Genya insane
Zenitsu doesn’t know who Genya is, but he can relate to him on a spiritual level. Zenitsu is always early and being best friends with someone like Inosuke makes it so that he’s late to everything. Inosuke never seems to understand why this is detrimental, thinks that showing up is better than not going at all, and Zenitsu has just given up on teaching him any kind of social etiquette at this point because he’s a lost cause.
Me
What changed?
Tangerine
I’m meeting you
Guess I’m just a little excited 😊
Oh.
Was the lecture hall this stuffy the whole time? They really need to turn up the AC a bit.
Me
I’ll meet you in five
“You have a disgusting look on your face right now,” Inosuke tells him, successfully startling Zenitsu and making him almost drop his phone to a miserable demise on the floor.
“What? Why?” Zenitsu questions, checking his face in the selfie camera. He knows he must look a bit haggard because it’s the end of the day, but he really doesn’t want to look ugly if he’s going on a date now. He could dash to the bathroom and brush his hair again to get rid of the frizz if he leaves now.
Or not. He doesn’t care what Tanjiro thinks of his appearance.
At all.
But having neat hair won’t hurt either.
“You’re smiling like an idiot,” Inosuke points out. “See? You’re still doing it.”
Zenitsu touches his face, looking back at the camera, and sees his mouth really is quirked up in a weird smile. Embarrassed, Zenitsu feels red start to creep up his neck as he puts his phone down.
“It’s just your imagination,” he lies.
“It’s not,” Inosuke says, walking closer to him to give him a more critical look. “You’ve got that same dumbass expression you’d have whenever you saw her what’s-her-face. You meeting her or somethin’?”
The thing about Inosuke is that most people like to call him an idiot, mainly because he doesn’t get the best grades, and Zenitsu has spent many a night tutoring him and he knows first hand how difficult he can be. He’s stubborn like a boar, sometimes makes an opinion that he will be very hard pressed to change and tries to solve everything through fighting.
That said, Zenitsu thinks he’s one of the sharpest people he’s ever met. Inosuke notices everything, incredibly intelligent on an emotional level, and seems particularly attuned to Zenitsu’s emotions. If he likes to solve everything through a fight or a spar, it’s because he believes that actions speak louder than words ever will, and Zenitsu respects that.
Just not right now, this whole Tanjiro thing is incredibly confusing and he still hasn’t told Inosuke anything about it because he doesn’t want Inosuke trying to psychoanalyze him.
Also hearing about Nezuko is always a damper on his mood now, so he feels that smile slip off his face as quick as it formed.
“No, just meeting a friend,” Zenitsu replies, shrugging his messenger bag on. “I’ll go on first.”
“Since when do you have friends that aren’t me?” Inosuke snickers. Zenitsu gives him the bird, but doesn’t deny it, because it’s true. Both Zenitsu and Inosuke are so high maintenance, only they could put up with each other’s asses. The comment also serves to diffuse the tension a bit and Zenitsu is grateful for it.
“You’re an asshole.”
“You know it,” Inosuke clucks his tongue proudly, flexing one of his muscles. Only Inosuke would wear a short sleeve shirt with half the buttons open in March, the weather still cold as fuck. He wonders if he just doesn’t get cold or if the need to show off his muscles-slash-his intense hatred for shirts is just stronger than his biological needs to stay warm.
He rolls his eyes, checking the time on his watch. Yeah, no time to make a mad dash to the bathroom and fix his hair, he hopes Tanjiro finds frizzy hair and a saggy ponytail attractive. If he doesn’t, well, that’s too bad.
“Y’know I’m gonna make you fess up sooner or later, right?” Inosuke says.
He gets that Inosuke’s insistence to know, all the pestering and running after him to get him to talk, comes from a place of concern. He really does, it’s just hard right now.
Zenitsu sighs, “Yes, I do. Just give me some time, okay?”
“Okay,” Inosuke nods, parting ways with him before the gate. “Take care of yourself, Monetsu.”
“We both know you know that’s not my name anymore,” Zenitsu muses.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Monetsu,” Inosuke says, walking away, waving.
Zenitsu smiles, heart warm in his chest because it feels nice to be cared about like this, before he turns his focus to the gate. Surely enough, Tanjiro is leaning by the wall, phone in hand and waiting.
Again, Zenitsu feels his lips quirk into that weird smile again, and his stomach tie itself in knots. Except they aren’t the bad kind of knots, more of an anticipatory kind, almost as if he’s excited. Which he isn’t, it’s just a date.
One date in a fake relationship, that’s all. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than just that.
He can do this.
💘
Zenitsu goes to greet him by the gate, seeing a golden opportunity in the form of a prank, and so he takes it. Tiptoeing quietly, Zenitsu approaches Tanjiro’s solitary figure, holding his breath. One, two, three.
He barely holds back a snicker as he claps loudly by Tanjiro’s ear, waiting for Tanjiro to startle and jolt, clutching his heart as he finally loses some of his composure to swear at him. He does it with Inosuke sometimes, payback for being difficult, and it usually results in a scuffle with Zenitsu as the subjective winner, but the prank itself is always incredibly entertaining.
Except Tanjiro doesn’t startle, just straightens up and smiles at Zenitsu fondly. He raises his hand, poking Zenitsu’s cheek, and right now, Zenitsu is the one who’s startled. His prank was perfect, he had the timing down to a tee and everything.
“Were you trying to surprise me?” Tanjiro asks, sounds endeared.
Zenitsu is not endearing.
“Yes,” Zenitsu pouts, folding his arms across his chest. “Why aren’t you surprised?”
Tanjiro laughs goodheartedly, taps his nose, “I smelled you, I knew you were here for a few minutes now, waiting to surprise me.”
“You smelled me?” Zenitsu asks, feeling like he’s missing something.
Tanjiro’s smile turns sheepish as he nods, “Yes. I have a good nose, and well, everyone has a characteristic scent. I already knew yours before I met you, your scent sort of rubbed off on the letters.”
Zenitsu nods slowly, trying to process this, because he doesn’t even use cologne most of the time. How could he have a characteristic smell? Is this like the stuff in fanfiction when the guy smells like strawberries and vanilla? Does Zenitsu smell like strawberries? He wouldn’t mind it, even if he likes sour fruits more.
And yes, he pointedly ignores Tanjiro bringing up the letters, because he doesn’t want a replay of what happened last week when Tanjiro started quoting them.
“Well what do I smell like?” Zenitsu asks.
Tanjiro hums, tapping his chin pensively. “Like a nice person? It’s hard to describe.”
A nice person? How does someone smell like a nice person? Zenitsu isn’t even nice, he’s more on the asshole side of the spectrum, even if he does try to be a gentleman to the ladies. Tanjiro must notice his dubious glance because he laughs softly before he starts to elaborate on it.
“You just smell…fresh in a way. Soft and fresh, sort of comforting, like when we’re just opening up the bakery at the crack of dawn and the scent of dough and batter permeates the air,” Tanjiro trails off, waving his hands this way and that. Zenitsu doesn’t know how he could possibly smell like that, thinks it’s purely Tanjiro’s subjective imagination projecting onto him, but…he likes the assessment. It sounds nice, sweet, and makes his heart tug in that weird way it’s been doing lately. “Does that sound weird?”
Zenitsu shakes his head, they’ve started walking together, and he distantly realizes that the sun is setting now – painting the sky in homogenous shades of red, pink, and orange. He’s always liked the sunset, even more than the sunrise, because Zenitsu is a creature of night. Mainly because the stars captivate him so much.
Back to the topic on hand.
“No, it’s not weird,” Zenitsu says, he taps his own ears. “I have really sensitive ears, perfect pitch. It helps me musically, instruments have always come to me naturally, and I can sing when I need to.”
Zenitsu has a love-hate relationship with singing, he does like to sing, mainly when he’s alone so nobody can judge him for it. But he doesn’t like his voice that much, because he has perfect pitch, he’s hyperaware of how pitchy he can get and it makes him self-conscious. Besides, he doesn’t have the confidence nor the personality for singing anyway, he could never see himself standing on a stage and letting his soul out in song.
“Ooh, that’s really cool,” Tanjiro says, looking genuinely impressed. He walks in front of Zenitsu, walking backwards so he can keep his eyes on him, excitement brimming in his eyes. “Would you sing a song for me now?”
“Hell no,” Zenitsu snorts. Tanjiro is the last person he’d ever sing in front of.
Tanjiro pouts a bit, but then he perks up within two seconds, because apparently he’s too sunny to ever get actually upset. “Okay, what’s your favorite instruments to play then?”
“Piano,” Zenitsu replies without skipping a beat. “Some other stuff too like guitar and the harp, but mainly the piano, yeah.”
The answer comes to him naturally, because piano means everything to him. He grew up playing it, sneaking around school when he was in elementary to play on the piano that was too tall for him at the time. Then his Gramps getting him a keyboard when his mom died, how he used to play on it all the time, even composing some of his own songs on it. He doesn’t have much time for it anymore between university and his failing love life, but his love for it is something that will never die probably.
Tanjiro whistles, “Do you know how attractive that is? My gay heart is swooning right now.”
Yeah, Zenitsu is contemplating diving for that bush, but he resists. Instead, he lets the warmth consume his face, wringing his hands so he doesn’t cover his face instead. Tanjiro seems to hate it when Zenitsu covers his face, always takes it as a personal mission to fluster him more.
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Zenitsu says, playing with the tip of his ponytail. “I’m not that good.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Tanjiro smiles, folding his hands behind his back. How is he walking backwards so easily? Zenitsu would have tripped and fallen over any moment now. “You seem to be the type who downplays himself.”
That’s not true, he’s just realistic, and the most attuned to his own flaws and drawbacks. Self-reflection isn’t a bad thing, it means he can criticize himself and try to be better, even if he usually just stops at the criticizing himself stage.
“Does this mean that you want me to play piano for you?” Zenitsu asks, slightly less resistant to this idea compared to the singing.
“Yes,” Tanjiro confirms smugly. “I’ll be sure to hold you to it.”
“I haven’t said yes though?” Zenitsu says, smiling despite himself.
“I have a way of getting what I want,” Tanjiro shrugs confidently.
And Zenitsu knows this to be true, so he just rolls his eyes. Hopefully, Tanjiro will just forget and that will be the end of that.
“Anyway, I didn’t tell you about my ears to talk about my perfect pitch,” Zenitsu traces back to the beginning. They’ve reached the bikes by the entrance now and they come to a standstill. “I can hear people’s heartbeats too, if I focus hard enough. When I was a teenager, it drove me a little insane hearing the sound of everyone’s heartbeat, but I trained myself to tune out the sounds to a dull thrum around me.”
Tanjiro looks shocked, eyes wide as his hand stalls on his bike.
“Wow, really?” he asks. “But wouldn’t they all sound the same?”
“In some ways they do, but in a lot of ways they don’t,” Zenitsu explains. He doesn’t know why he’s talking about this, if only to make Tanjiro feel a little less alone about his strange nose, the only one who knows about the extent of his hearing is his Gramps. Well his parents did too and they thought he was a weirdo, heard them talking about how he must be insane and should go see a psychiatrist. “Everyone has a distinct heartbeat, a certain sound to them, that acts like a window to their soul. At least that’s how I learned to interpret it with time.”
Gramps has a tired but kind heartbeat. Kaigaku has a meaner one, one that’s filled with dissatisfaction but still holds an intrinsic kindness and love for the ones he cares about. Inosuke has a fierce heartbeat, determined and driven, filled with unbridled energy that’s not met within the walls of their university.
Zenitsu hates his own heartbeat, slow, cowardly, and distinctly pathetic.
“What does my heart sound like then?” Tanjiro asks, eyes wide and curiosity brimming in them.
And in that moment, Zenitsu realizes that Tanjiro believes him, just like that. He didn’t ask for anymore explanations, didn’t claim that it’s all in his head, just accepted Zenitsu’s statement as a truth. He believed what his parents couldn’t, accepted him for it, didn’t change his perception of him because of it.
His eyes sting with the force of his emotion.
“I don’t know, I haven’t tried to listen to it yet,” Zenitsu replies honestly. It’s always felt intrusive to listen to someone else’s heartbeat, like he’s intruding onto them and their soul. “I need to concentrate to do it.”
“Would you listen to it now?” Tanjiro implores.
Zenitsu nods, extending his hands, “It helps if I’m touching you.”
Tanjiro puts his hands in his without question, without doubting him, and just trusts him. His hands are warm, soft and welcoming, and Zenitsu feels like he’s already started to memorize the shape of Tanjiro’s hands just from the few times he’s held them.
He swallows, closing his eyes, and tunes out all the sounds around him. Tunes out the birds chirping as the sun starts to set, people talking and laughing as they go home from university, the sounds of the cars passing by the street. He focuses his hearing to one point, to Tanjiro’s breathing, and narrows it down to his heartbeat and listens.
His breath hitches because he’s heard a lot of heartbeats in his lifetime, but Tanjiro somehow has the kindest heartbeat he’s ever heard. So intense in its kindness and the softness of his personality, calm and sincere in the kindness he offers with each heartbeat, but also soothing like the prettiest song Zenitsu’s ever heard. It’s also beating a bit fast now with nervousness, anticipation, and maybe something else.
His own heart tugs in his chest, almost as if it’s trying to synchronize with Tanjiro’s, or reaching out to that kindness. He tries to ignore it, but his heart is always the hardest to ignore, beats the loudest in his ears.
He’s not ready when Tanjiro lets go of his hands, feels them touch his face instead, and he opens his eyes to see Tanjiro leaning up to look at him with thinly veiled concern. It’s strange how Tanjiro loves to touch his face like this, this is the third time he’s done it, and how Zenitsu is already growing used to that touch. How that touch instead of making him recoil in discomfort seems to just ground him now.
“Are you okay?” Tanjiro asks, swiping his thumb across his cheek.
And that’s when Zenitsu realizes he was crying, blinking his eyes rapidly only to find more tears falling from his eyes, which Tanjiro wipes away kindly.
This is so embarrassing, he can’t believe he cried because of Tanjiro’s heartbeat, so kind and pretty to his sensitive ears.
He sniffs as he tries to bat the tears away, nodding, “I’m fine.”
Tanjiro still has his hands on his face, doubt and concern on his face, before he tries to force a smile on his face. “Did my heartbeat sound that sad?”
Zenitsu shakes his head, “No, it actually sounded really nice. I think I was just taken off guard.”
Tanjiro doesn’t ask him to elaborate, just smiles softly, and it makes Zenitsu feel a certain type of way. He brushes Zenitsu’s bangs behind his ear, before he pulls away.
“You seem to be quite the crier, aren’t you?” Tanjiro muses.
“Shut up.”
He is, but he won’t admit that out loud.
“Never,” Tanjiro says in a singsong voice.
Distantly, as he watches Tanjiro in the backdrop of the pretty sunset, the sound of his kind heartbeat still fresh in his own ears, he understands why he told Tanjiro.
Because Tanjiro is kindness, empathy, and understanding. Subconsciously, he’s always been looking for someone to tell that to, someone to share the secret with without being judged or doubted for it, and Tanjiro did just that.
It means more to him than words can express.
💘
“You know, I don’t actually know how to ride a bike so this makes things a bit awkward,” Zenitsu mentions awkwardly after a few beats of silence.
“Seriously?” Tanjiro laughs, sitting on the seat of his own bike. “You’re a failure as a Japanese citizen, how did you even survive till now?”
Zenitsu thinks of how he tried to learn how to ride a bike when he was kid, how he was so scared of falling and getting hurt, that he quit before he even had the chance to learn. It didn’t help that after his dad left and his mom died, and Gramps had to become their main guardian, he wanted them to always live within walking distance of the school so he could pick them up quickly if need be. Gramps never needed to pick him up, but Kaigaku was a delinquent, so he saw Gramps more often than he saw Inosuke sometimes.
The need to learn how to ride a bike has just never been instilled into him, he guesses.
“Walking has been my best friend,” Zenitsu says instead. “Does this mean the date is off?”
He tries not to sound too hopeful. Or disappointed. Maybe a weird mix between the two.
“Nope,” Tanjiro says, popping the p. “You can just ride on the back of my bike.”
Oh. Zenitsu hadn’t anticipated this sequence of events.
Images of Tanjiro riding the bike while Zenitsu wraps his arms around his waist, too tall to rest his head on his back properly, fills his head. No, no, no, that can’t happen.
“We can’t walk?” Zenitsu asks balefully.
“I don’t want my bike to get stolen,” Tanjiro replies, shaking his head. He sits down on the bike, patting the metal seat behind him invitingly. “Also, we’re going someplace far from here, it’ll take too long to walk.”
“Wow, you really have this all planned out, don’t you?” Zenitsu laughs, tugging on his ponytail.
“Of course I do, it’s our first date,” Tanjiro says, smiling softly. “I already marked this day in my calendar for anniversary purposes.”
Zenitsu swallows. First date implies that there will be more to come. Anniversary implies that this is a real relationship, that these dates actually matter, that they’ll be together for a long time.
He doesn’t know how to feel about it, or he is feeling a lot of emotions, but they are so tightly tangled together he doesn’t know how to tell them apart. The one that comes out most dominant, however, is guilt.
“You’re so sentimental,” Zenitsu says, a few beats too late. “And you tease me for crying.”
“Says the guy who’s been writing me letters for six months,” Tanjiro quips, never below mentioning that to fluster Zenitsu into silence. “Get on the bike, Zenitsu.”
Zenitsu nods mutely, having no choice but to oblige, and sits on the back of the bike gingerly. Luckily, he’s not too tall for it, because that would have made this ride incredibly uncomfortable. He sits with his back to Tanjiro so he doesn’t end up accidentally wrapping his arms around his torso or something like in a romance film. It doesn’t matter much because as Tanjiro effortlessly rides the bike with the weight of two grown men on it, each bump of the road, makes Zenitsu’s back bump against Tanjiro’s.
He closes his eyes, tries to shut out the warmth of Tanjiro’s back against his, but it only makes him pick up on the sound of his heartbeat instead. It’s such a soothing sound, placates all the turmoil boiling over inside his chest, makes him feel a semblance of peace. Tanjiro’s heart sounds like the prettiest song, like a song he’d want to put on repeat for hours and would never tire from it.
He opens his eyes, watching the sun sink over the horizon and enjoying the feeling of wind against his face whipping his hair back, and thinks it looks oddly beautiful. Prettier than the sunset usually looks, and he wonders if that’s just his abnormally light mood projecting onto it.
“So where are we going, Romeo?” Zenitsu teases.
“It’s a surprise,” Tanjiro replies. “Be patient, Juliet.”
“Wait, why am I the girl?” Zenitsu asks indignantly, resisting the urge to turn around and topple them both off this bike.
“You started it by calling me Romeo,” Tanjiro hums, hardly even sounding out of breath. What kind of stamina does Tanjiro have anyway? He looks so tiny. “We already covered the letters part. Shall I serenade you underneath your balcony so we can be even?”
Zenitsu thinks of Tanjiro singing to him underneath his window, how everyone in his apartment complex would hate him, and Kaigaku would bury both of them alive. Kaigaku hates anything messing with his beauty sleep.
“Can you even sing?” Zenitsu asks.
“No, I’m actually quite tone deaf, but it would be romantic,” Tanjiro replies. “I think it would make you swoon, fall right into my arms.”
“Falling is scary though,” Zenitsu interjects, thinking of his kid self who was too scared to ride a bike. His adult self who is still scared to ride one, is quite terrified that one bad bump is going to make him plummet face first to the pavement. “And painful.”
“Not if I’m there to catch you,” Tanjiro replies lightly, but there’s a tone of conviction to it.
Something about the visual of Zenitsu falling into Tanjiro’s embrace like they are in some shoujo manga, Tanjiro who is clearly strong enough to catch him, makes him feel a certain type of way. The problem is he already knows what Tanjiro’s embrace feels like, how his arms feel around his waist, and the visual just feels too real in his head – down from the image to the ghost of warmth on his body.
His heart tugs again.
He also tries not to think about how Romeo and Juliet is a story that ended in tragedy.
He’s about to reply when he hears a phone buzz, he checks his own pocket, but it’s not his. Tanjiro stops the bike, grumbling lightly under his breath as he reaches into his own pocket.
“Hi, mom,” Tanjiro greets his mother, voice strained. A moment of silence and then, “Mom, I worked the morning shift before college so I could get off the afternoon shift, I – I have plans.”
Zenitsu hates how dejected Tanjiro sounds right now, doesn’t know why Tanjiro is so disappointed at the notion of their date getting canceled or shortened. He doesn’t know why he is too, but he tells himself it’s because he wanted to know what surprise Tanjiro had in store.
“I’m with – I’m with a friend,” Tanjiro says, sighing. “No, mom, it’s too late to cancel now – I – I’ll try to stop by the shop – no, please –“
Rubbing his face with his hands, Zenitsu already knows he’s going to deeply regret the next words that will fall out of his mouth.
There’s just something about a sad Tanjiro that pulls on his heartstrings, okay? It’s nothing personal.
“Tanjiro,” Zenitsu whispers, tapping his shoulder. Tanjiro turns to him, disgruntled frustration written all over his face. “We can just go to your bakery, I don’t mind chilling out there for a few hours until your shift is over.”
He’s such a dumbass.
The way Tanjiro lightens up like Zenitsu just told him that Christmas just came early this year makes it all worth it though, he thinks.
“What, really?” Tanjiro asks, sounding incredibly hopeful. “You won’t be too bored?”
He probably will be, but at least he’ll be able to work on his assignment tonight like he originally planned to.
“No, of course not,” he replies easily, placating him. “It’s really fine.”
Tanjiro grins, turning back to continue his conversation with his mom, “Okay, mom, my friend said he doesn’t mind coming with me – I – okay, see you soon – yes. Yes, mom, I love you too. Bye.”
There’s something strangely endearing about how open Tanjiro is with his love for his mother, saying it out loud like that without being embarrassed. Zenitsu lives in a household where nobody ever says they love the other person, they all know it on an instinctual level because they are family, but they don’t ever see the need to say it out loud.
He thinks if he told Gramps that he loves him, he would smack him across the head. But he would also be happy probably, so maybe he should do it more often.
“I’m sorry,” Tanjiro says, as he starts biking again. The wind hits Zenitsu’s face now as the chill of dusk settles in, sun having set by now. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
“I really don’t mind,” Zenitsu shakes his head. “Family is important.”
“Yes, that’s definitely true,” Tanjiro replies softly.
And so marks the beginning of their first date, one Zenitsu would remember for a long time.
💘
The rest of the bike ride is in companionable silence, Zenitsu doesn’t really mind, just watches the few stars he can see in the sky and listens to Tanjiro’s heartbeat every now and then. He worries less about falling now, knows that Tanjiro is a competent bike driver so he just tries to enjoy the ride for what it is. He tries not to think too hard about how they’re just growing closer rather than further apart, blames it on his own indecisiveness and his innate need to please.
It’s also hard because maybe he doesn’t hate Tanjiro that much, maybe he even enjoys his company a bit. He’s grown so used to only interacting with Inosuke on regular, that there’s something quite refreshing about spending time with someone new. Someone who makes no effort to hide his crush on him.
It makes him feel a certain type of way, but it’s not exactly a bad one.
The bike comes to a stop, causing Zenitsu to jolt as he presses the majority of his weight onto Tanjiro so he doesn’t fall. He doesn’t fall, hasn’t fallen once, for which he’s grateful.
“We’re here!” Tanjiro says cheerfully, waiting for Zenitsu to dislodge himself from the bike. Zenitsu gets off, looking up at the quaint little shop as Tanjiro goes to tie his bike to the rack.
Truly, the only way to describe it is as quaint.
‘The Kamados' is written across the banner in a nice cursive font that makes him wonder if Tanjiro is the one who made it since he’s the art student. The shop is painted a warm hue of yellow, so of course Zenitsu loves it, and is decorated on the outside with a series of potted plants and flowers. The flowers have a color scheme to them; pink, orange, and red, all to help the yellow of the store pop out. Inside, he can see who must be Tanjiro’s mother, something he notices because her resemblance to Nezuko is uncanny, manning the cashier and greeting customers with a warm smile.
Rather than good looks that run in the family, Zenitsu would think it’s their kindness.
“Again, I’m sorry about this,” Tanjiro says, smiling at him sheepishly. “Nezuko was supposed to take up the afternoon shift but she couldn’t make it because she has an extra class. I’ll try to make sure you’re not too bored though.”
If hearing about Nezuko from Inosuke is bad, somehow hearing about her from Tanjiro is ten times worse.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Zenitsu lies.
There’s something incredibly nerve wracking about having to meet Tanjiro’s mother, something that feels so inherently personal, even if Tanjiro is more than used to introducing his friends to his parents. They keep on intruding onto more and more parts of each other’s lives and Zenitsu doesn’t know what to make out of it.
There’s also the small note that Zenitsu sort of sucks at interacting with parents, they make him awkward, uncomfortable. Inosuke’s mom is nice though, she usually greets him with a hug and candy, so he hopes Tanjiro’s mom is like that too.
They enter the bakery, and Zenitsu is greeted with the delicious smell of freshly baked pastries and deserts, and the sound of tinkering laughter and conversation carrying through the air. The shop is small, only four or five tables for people to sit at, and looks cluttered in a homely way. As in there are lots of flowers hung around the walls, the walls painted a warm pink to contrast the yellow outside, and a family picture hung up of what must be Tanjiro’s family. There are other pictures and notes up too, people putting up sketches they drew while at the bakery or just notes of thanks about how nice the bakery is.
It feels light here, the sounds of love and happiness radiating through the air, and Zenitsu automatically feels his stress levels go down a bit just by entering the shop. No wonder Tanjiro loves working here so much, even if it is his family shop.
“Are you Tanjiro’s friend?” his mother asks, greeting him kindly as they enter. “He’s mentioned you quite a bit recently.”
Zenitsu nods, bowing slightly to be polite. He’s guessing Tanjiro isn’t out to his family yet, or he hasn’t told them about their relationship, either way it makes life easier for him. He doesn’t know what Tanjiro has to say about him, he’s hardly anything to write home about, he’ll have to drill him for information later.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Zenitsu replies.
“The pleasure is all mine,” she smiles. “I’m terribly sorry I had to call you in from your – outing? Hangout? I don’t know what the kids call it these days.”
“It’s fine,” Zenitsu smiles awkwardly. He never knows what to say to parents, there’s always this innate need to say something impressive or charismatic, but Zenitsu always ends up looking like a fool instead. He’d just do himself a favor if he keeps his mouth shut.
“Okay, mom, I’ll take him to sit in the back,” Tanjiro cuts the conversation abruptly, pushing Zenitsu to the back of the shop. “Just sit here,” Tanjiro takes him to one of the tables by the corner in the back. It’s the only free table in the shop, there’s a long line to go, and Zenitsu can definitely see why his mother had to call him in so urgently. “I’ll try to finish as soon as I can.”
It’s sort of endearing how hard Tanjiro is trying to make sure Zenitsu is happy, comfortable. How hard he’s trying to make their first date work, a nice one to look back on fondly.
“Okay,” Zenitsu smiles. “Now go, your mom is looking at you.”
Tanjiro huffs, reaches over to squeeze Zenitsu’s hand quickly before he goes to the corner of the shop to quickly throw an apron over his shirt, tying it behind his back with deft fingers. Zenitsu definitely doesn’t notice how narrow Tanjiro’s waist is, how the apron cinches right around it snugly, accentuating how petite his figure is.
He needs to get his mind out of the gutter.
Pulling up his messenger bag, Zenitsu takes out his notebook and laptop, cracks his neck and thinks now is as good a time as ever to start his assignments. He also takes out his glasses, putting them on his face. His eyesight isn’t that horrid without them, but he gets a headache when he looks at the laptop for hours at a time without them on.
He works for about an hour uninterrupted, unbothered by the ambiance of the shop, rather it’s kind of comforting. Every now and again, his eyes will wander to Tanjiro who keeps on running between the kitchen and the cashier outside, placing new fresh pastries in the display window. He’s changed out of his green sweater into a crisp white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, that same apron tied around his waist.
It’s a good look, that’s all Zenitsu will say on the matter.
It’s also that more devastating when Zenitsu sees Tanjiro heft five metal trays of pastries from the kitchen with little to no effort, sees his arms bulge through the fabric of his button-down, and thinks he really is stupidly strong. The gap between Tanjiro’s sunny personality and the fact that he could probably press Zenitsu without even breaking a sweat makes Zenitsu’s stomach tie in knots.
So yeah, he doesn’t get a whole lot of work done, no.
“Who are you?” someone asks, tugging on Zenitsu’s sleeve, effectively pulling him out of his reverie and straight into shock. He yelps, jolting as he looks down at the tiny child that’s accosting him. “Mommy says you’re Tannie’s friend, but I haven’t seen you before.”
How lost was Zenitsu in his reverie that he didn’t notice four children approaching him? Children are loud too.
Zenitsu did not know that Tanjiro had more siblings than just Nezuko but looking at the three children who are all looking at him imploringly, he figures this is quite the large family. Well, the baby the girl is holding isn’t really looking at him, but he still doesn’t trust that blank look on his face. There’s also the boy who is standing at a distance, glaring at him with the sourest expression Zenitsu has ever seen.
Did Zenitsu mention that he also sucks at dealing with children?
“Um, yeah, I’m his friend,” Zenitsu replies awkwardly.
“Hah?” says the boy at the back. “Tannie – Tanjiro – doesn’t have any friends besides Genya.”
Genya, yes, Tanjiro did mention him in passing once.
“I don’t know, we just became friends recently,” Zenitsu replies honestly, to which the boy tsks, looking away disgruntled. Brother complex maybe? “Um, are you guys his siblings?”
“Yes, I’m Hanako!” the girl introduces herself, smiling at him toothily. “I’m six, look, I’ve got a loose tooth!”
Zenitsu tries not to cringe outwardly as she pushes the tooth, seeing it move this way and that. Still, she’s kind of cute with her big eyes and her hair brushed into a cute ponytail at the top of her head.
“I’m Shigeru,” the other boy introduces himself. He’s the one who tugged on his sleeve, he grins. “I’m ten, I like soccer. Tannie is my superhero.”
That’s…kind of adorable, Zenitsu thinks.
“Takeo,” the one at the back introduces, the one with the attitude problem. He doesn’t offer more than that, but Zenitsu guesses he’s going through puberty, so he won’t mess with that.
“And this is Rokuta,” Hanako says again, holding up the baby in her hands. “He’s a baby.”
Zenitsu tries to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks.
“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself too?” Takeo grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, yeah, I’m Zenitsu,” he introduces himself, bowing again slightly. “A pleasure to meet you all.”
Shigeru pulls up a chair, right next to him, and struggles as he hefts himself on the chair. He looks at Zenitsu expectantly, starry eyed, and Zenitsu feels quite lost. Hanako does the same, getting another chair, and sitting across from him. The baby is left at his feet, left to his own devices, and he’s just glad Rokuta doesn’t seem to be the crying type.
“You have very pretty yellow hair, Zennie. It’s so long too,” Hanako says, already assigning him a nickname, putting her chin on her hands. “You look like Rapunzel, are you a princess?”
“Um, no, I’m not –“
“Do you play sports, Zennie?” Shigeru asks him, cutting him off. “I love sports, I have a bruise on my knee – look – I got this when I scored the goal, it was so cool!”
“I’m sure it was,” Zenitsu agrees with a smile. “And yeah, I do a bit of track.”
“Yes, Tannie was really proud of me, he carried me in the sky and it was lotsa fun,” Shigeru agrees. Somehow, that’s a visual that’s not hard to imagine, makes his heart warm. “What’s track?”
“It’s a sport where you run around –“
“Zennie, can I draw on your papers?” Hanako interrupts him, and Zenitsu is alarmed to see she somehow managed to break into his pencil case and took out his highlighters. He lets out a sigh of relief that she waited to ask first before she proceeded to destroy his notes, nods before taking out a fresh piece of paper.
“Yeah, sure, here you go – let me know if you want anymore,” he smiles. She grins at him, a megawatt smile that looks so much like Tanjiro’s that Zenitsu falters slightly.
“I can’t believe my brother is friends with a loser like you,” Takeo finally speaks up, arms crossed over his chest. “You look lame. Genya is way cooler than you.”
Zenitsu hasn’t seen Genya before, but most people are indeed cooler than him, so he’s not surprised at the assessment. It still stings a bit though to hear.
“Yeah, your brother is way cooler than me,” Zenitsu agrees, plastering a smile on his face. “I’m honestly lucky he wants to hang out with me.”
“Well, I like you, Zennie,” Shigeru shrugs. “You like sports, so you’re cool.”
“I like Zennie too!” Hanako says. She shows Zenitsu the drawing she’s working on, a flower with a smiley face on it, the petals colored with the green highlighter and the stem is yellow. He likes that she’s creative. “Do you like my drawing?”
“I love it,” Zenitsu smiles, leans over to draw a heart on it with the red pen. Hanako giggles happily, he thinks he likes her the most.
“I hope you guys aren’t bullying Zenitsu,” comes Tanjiro’s familiar voice, chiding his siblings. Zenitsu looks at him, standing with his hands on his hips as he gives his siblings an unamused look, but it seems to be directed mostly at Takeo. “He’s my friend whom I care about very much.”
Zenitsu looks down at his hands, tries to ignore the blotchy flush on his face and neck.
“Never,” Shigeru shakes his head, and Zenitsu can really see the hero worship in his eyes.
“Don’t worry, they’re all really sweet,” Zenitsu waves him off.
Tanjiro gives him a look, one that seems torn between exasperation and fondness before he tears himself out of it. “Even Takeo? I know he can be a bit difficult.”
He is.
“Hey!”
“Even Takeo,” Zenitsu smiles, because no, he won’t throw him under the bus like that. Takeo gives him an odd look, distrustful of Zenitsu’s intentions, but Zenitsu really isn’t that petty to get him in trouble with his brother.
“Hmm,” Tanjiro hums. “I’ll just have to take your word for it then. Are you ready to go? Nezuko should be coming soon so my mom let me go early.”
Zenitsu tries not to feel disappointed that he won’t be getting to see Nezuko, but he’s also a bit relieved, because he doesn’t want to see her while he’s with Tanjiro. That would basically destroy any chance he has of being with her, so he’ll just have to wait it out. He feels like there are other reasons why he doesn’t want to see Nezuko, has been avoiding her all over campus, but he’s been pointedly avoiding thinking too deeply about it.
“Sure,” he nods, packing up his stuff. There’s a slightly awkward moment as he asks Hanako for his highlighters back, but she gives them to him amicably.
“Here, I drew you a picture, Zennie!” she says, smiling as she gives him a piece of paper. It’s a picture of him wearing a pink dress, long neon yellow hair reaching the floor, and it’s labeled ‘Ranupzelle’.
His heart swells a bit, if he’s being honest. He wants to hug her, but he thinks that would be weird.
“Thank you, Hanako, that’s really sweet of you,” Zenitsu says instead, patting her head lightly. “I’m going to keep it forever.”
Tanjiro peers over his shoulder, lets out a laugh when he sees the drawing. “She’s quite the artist, isn’t she? Just like your big bro.”
“Yupp,” she agrees proudly.
“Who’s the prince, Hanako?” he asks her, eyes kind.
Hanako screws up her face in thought, tapping her chin, “Tannie?”
“I’ll take that,” Tanjiro says smugly, nudging Zenitsu in his elbow. He rolls his eyes, because once again, Tanjiro has become his knight in shining armor. He sees the pattern here.
If Tanjiro wants to be his prince that much, then he guesses he won’t say no to it.
💘
They walk together, elbows touching, hands brushing against each other but never going much further than that. The weather is nice, cool with a nice spring breeze against Zenitsu’s face, and the stars – while only a few – look beautiful in the sky.
It’s quiet between them, both trying to find something to say, but failing.
So Zenitsu tries, “Your siblings are quite cute.”
“They seem to think the same of you,” Tanjiro smiles. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
Zenitsu rolls his eyes, “Takeo begs to differ.”
“Takeo doesn’t like anyone but Genya,” Tanjiro laughs. “He doesn’t even like me anymore.”
“That is profoundly untrue, but whatever,” Zenitsu shrugs.
He could see it in all of them, how much they all love and adore Tanjiro. It’s in the way they look at him, starry eyed like he could do no wrong, all clambering to please him and bring him up in every story. Even Takeo just hates him because he doesn’t think he’s earned a spot next to his brother, and in a lot of ways, Zenitsu is inclined to agree.
“I’m happy you got along with them though,” Tanjiro says softly. “A lot of people don’t, they’re a bit of a handful.”
“I’m not really the best with kids, but they’re cute,” Zenitsu shrugs. “Especially Hanako.”
“Because she thinks you’re Rapunzel?” Tanjiro laughs, nudging him slightly. “Sorry ‘bout that, she’s been infatuated with Tangled recently.”
“Crush on Flynn?” Zenitsu asks.
“More so Rapunzel, but she likes Flynn too,” Tanjiro replies. He turns to the side, interlacing his fingers with Zenitsu’s easily. It doesn’t make him recoil like it usually does, just another hand in his. “It’s nice though that she thinks I’m your Flynn. Confirms that I’m your prince charming, right?”
His heart tugs again, that same way it always does around Tanjiro.
“You’re a bit short to be a prince charming, aren’t you?” Zenitsu quips.
Tanjiro gasps indignantly, “I am not short.”
“Tanjiro…you hardly reach my elbow,” Zenitsu tells him, resisting the urge to laugh.
“You’re just stupidly tall,” he grumbles. He then proceeds to stand up on his tiptoes so he’s reaching Zenitsu’s shoulder, just barely. “See? Not that short.”
“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” Zenitsu replies, flicking Tanjiro’s shoulder lightly so he falls back to his natural height.
“You’re so mean,” Tanjiro whines.
Endearing, Tanjiro is incredibly endearing.
“You’ll just have to put up with me,” Zenitsu smiles.
“You’re not too bad,” Tanjiro replies. “You look nice with glasses on.”
Zenitsu startles, touching the spectacles on his face, had totally forgotten to take them off. He resists the urge to take them off, doesn’t want to be too self-conscious about them.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, still not used to Tanjiro’s compliments. He looks at him from his periphery, notes that he’s still wearing the crisp button-down shirt, the one that accentuates his figure all too nicely. Much more apparent without the apron to hide it. He tries to return the favor, “You look nice too, in your uniform. Sort of. I guess.”
Tanjiro looks at him for a moment balefully before he breaks out in laughter, probably amused by how horrible Zenitsu is at social interaction and flattery. Zenitsu blushes, pushing him lightly, without letting go of his hand. “Shut up.”
“Never,” Tanjiro replies. He sobers up for a moment, pulling on Zenitsu’s hand so they come to a standstill. This road is quiet, not many people passing by in the late night like this, and the scent of lavender flowers wafts over to his nose. “Sorry again though, about the failed first date. I had today all planned out too, but well, yeah. It didn’t work out, but thanks about being understanding.”
Truly, Zenitsu can’t wrap his head around why Tanjiro is so torn up about this, but he still feels the innate need to cheer him up. Sadness doesn’t look good on him, is much more suited for smiles and laughter.
“Hey, don’t be upset, I had fun today. Really,” Zenitsu says, trying his best to cheer him up. “Your siblings are super cute and I’m having fun now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but,” Tanjiro starts, biting his lip. He looks torn, doubt flashing by his eyes. “I just get frustrated. It’s hard being the bread winner sometimes, feels like I can never have a life outside of it.”
Understanding dawns upon him, and it makes sense a bit, why Tanjiro works all the time. He guesses his dad isn’t in the picture, so Tanjiro has a lot of responsibility, both to upkeep the bakery and look out for all his younger siblings. Zenitsu has never been put in that position himself as the youngest of two brothers, but he can still empathize with it. He knows that Gramps having to raise both him and Kaigaku in his old age was no easy feat, only got to take a breath of fresh air once Zenitsu started college.
It makes him sad that to him, this date is nothing more than a farce. And to Tanjiro, this was something real, something he looked forward to and anticipated. Not just for the romantic sentiment, but an opportunity to do something for himself.
“I’m sorry, I get how frustrating it is. But trust me, I really did have fun,” he tries to placate him. “And we can always make it up later if you’d want to.”
Fuck, Zenitsu is basically digging his own grave right now.
“Really?” Tanjiro asks, looks distinctly hopeful. “You’d want to go out on another date with me again? I feel like I sort of coerced you into this one.”
Tanjiro is obviously more perceptive than Zenitsu thought.
He nods as he lies down in his own proverbial grave.
“Of course, I’d want to go out on another date with you,” he squeezes his hand reassuringly. “We can even go to that surprise place you had planned out.”
“You’re too good to me,” Tanjiro laughs under his breath.
He’s really not.
“It’s really nothing,” Zenitsu waves him off.
Tanjiro doesn’t reply, just looks at him with this strangely intense gaze that makes Zenitsu feel slightly uncomfortable. A drop of sweat falls down the back of his neck.
He might be a bit late to noticing this, but Tanjiro really does have nice eyes. Such a pretty shade of burgundy, he thinks.
Zenitsu doesn’t say anything, he’s the one who started the conversation last time, so the ball is in Tanjiro’s court now.
“Can I kiss you?” Tanjiro eventually asks. The question takes Zenitsu by such surprise, he gets whiplash.
“What?”
“No pressure if you don’t want to,” Tanjiro continues, doesn’t repeat his question.
Every single shred of logic within his brain says that he should say no, screams it at him, because the answer is so obvious. He’s been humoring Tanjiro this whole time between the texting and the dates, but kissing is too much. This isn’t real, Zenitsu is straight, and the only logical answer to this question is no.
He listens to the fast pace of Tanjiro’s heartbeat – so sweet, so hopeful, so nice to his ears – and feels his logic start to wane in place of his own heart that’s seemingly attempting to respond to Tanjiro’s.
Without thinking, he nods once, “You can.”
Distantly, he realizes this is the same kind of idiocy that landed him in a relationship with a boy in the first place.
“Okay,” Tanjiro breathes out, relief palpable in his voice.
A moment passes, then two, and then Zenitsu closes his eyes. He feels like his eyes shouldn’t be open for this, hopes it’ll be one quick peck on the lips and then it’ll be over.
Another moment, another heartbeat, and then he feels lips press against his.
Safe to say, Zenitsu has never kissed a boy before, so he doesn’t know what to expect. It’s not that different from kissing a girl, but it’s not quite the same either. Tanjiro’s lips are chapped instead of glossy, firmer than soft, but it’s also not bad either.
Because Tanjiro tastes sweet, like the pastries he makes, like the gentle sound of his heart. So no, it’s not that bad.
Tanjiro breaks away too soon, causing Zenitsu to crack an eye open, seeing Tanjiro is standing on his tiptoes again to reach him. Somehow, Zenitsu finds their height difference endearing, bends down a bit to make it easier for Tanjiro and kisses him again.
The kiss is chaste, even as one kiss turns into two and three, but it’s also warm and soft. Tanjiro’s hand cups his cheek, and the other one tangles itself in his hair while Zenitsu’s hands reluctantly find their place on the small of Tanjiro’s waist.
Zenitsu should hate kissing Tanjiro, but somehow he doesn’t, and that’s positively maddening to him.
Tanjiro breaks away, resting his forehead against Zenitsu’s, breathless. He grins at Zenitsu, “That was a really nice first kiss, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Zenitsu agrees, finds that he isn’t even lying.
“I like you a lot,” Tanjiro whispers.
Zenitsu doesn’t reply, just steals another kiss, distracting Tanjiro from the need for an answer.
Because he knows, knows that Tanjiro likes him a lot, he just doesn’t know what to do about it.