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It was weird, Zenitsu thought. Kanao and Tanjiro seemed really close lately. Every time Zenitsu wanted to talk to Tanjiro or spend time, Kanao was there, latched onto Tanjiro, nursing a serene, peaceful smile.
Tanjiro also seemed happier than usual. His heartbeat was strange. Zenitsu listened and Tanjiro’s heart was more joyful, livelier and faster when Kanao was there.It was the soft pitter-patter of fresh, spring rain. It sounded so affectionate and kiss-sweet, so honey-laden that Zenitsu was confused. It was all directed towards Kanao, but Zenitsu barely knew her. Inosuske didn’t know her.
He knew something was off.
His suspicions were confirmed when Tanjiro was being pestered by Inosuske.
“Spar with me! Spar with me!” Inosuske yelled, with a tone of annoyance. “It’s been days, Monjiro and without me, you’re going to get weaker!”
Tanjiro furrowed his brow and shook his head curtly. “I’m sorry Inosuske. I have other plans.” His tone of voice was consoling and apologetic, like he was saying no to a petulant child who was demanding for an expensive toy. .
But the stupid pig, ever so perseverant, was not satisfied with that answer. “It’s been days!” He grumbled, “I guess you’ve been beaten too many times by me to want to spar.” His voice had a lilt at the end, seemingly satisfied with this outrageous explanation, considering their spars always ended in a draw.
“It’s not that...”
“Then what is it?” Zenitsu stepped in, his eyebrows twitching, slamming his tea down on the table with a great rattle. “You’ve been too busy to eat with us lately or spend time in any capacity.” His voice rising with every word. “Tanjiro, if you’re having a hard time, then you can tell us. You don’t have to hide. We’re here for you.” Zenitsu really tried to understand. Maybe Kanao and Tanjiro were just spending time in solidarity. Maybe there wasn’t anything special or intimate going on. Despite the warm love-struck look in Tanjiro’s eyes when he gazes at her. Despite the flush in Kanao’s cheeks. Despite the glow that each had when in each other’s presence.
No, there couldn’t be anything going on.
Tanjiro’s eyes softened and shined with happiness, with a smile that reached all up to his eyes. Such an unguarded, delicate thing was Zenitsu’s heart. Tanjiro’s beaming face was enough to send his heart into overdrive, beating like the pitter-pats of kitten steps.
Zenitsu squashed down that feeling, not wanting to assign names to it.
“Well,” Tanjiro mused, his voice a little too happy to be normal, “I guess it’s time I told you guys!”
What Tanjiro said, would haunt Zenitsu for days.
“I have a girlfriend!” His words were so full of warmth, heart and affection. His words were said with such fondness. Zenitsu was gob-smacked, his whole body caving in. He felt like the living daylights was sucked out of him. Cold. Broken. Empty.
A sound of a thousand bells went off. Shards of glass flew everywhere, shining in the light, thin and feathery, like angel wings beating in the wind.
Oh, Zenitsu barely registered, I dropped my glass of tea.
The rest of the conversation was a blur to Zenitsu. After his glass broke, a delicate and dainty thing, the sound echoed, screeching in Zenitsu’s ears. It made his ears burn and his throat tighten.
He felt like his mouth was full of sand, coarse and clumsy. There was nothing he could say to fully rectify what happened. Zenitsu knew he was acting erratically. And despite that, Zenitsu tried to anyway.
“I’m sorry,” Zenitsu croaked, his voice wavering. He cleared his throat. “that I broke the glass. . Accidents happen when you are shocked!” His voice surer now. “Tanjiro! How dare you get a girlfriend before me! And I bet she's cute too! Ahh, what a nasty surprise.” Although Zenitsu tried to stay in character, his words still felt weak, too hollow and flimsy to reflect how he would have normally acted.
Zenitsu wasn’t sure why he felt so shocked. He knew this was coming. He knew, deep down, in the marrow of his bones, that Kanao and Tanjiro shared something special, something so precious and intimate that it made Zenitsu feel like his heart was too raw to keep beating. He’s seen it with his own two eyes, them sharing laughs, smiles, inside jokes.
He’s seen it. Yet he doesn’t want to believe it.
He wasn’t sure why he was so sad, so desperately sad, that he felt the sting of tears in his eyes, that he felt his stomach drop cold to the ground, that his hands trembled with emotion.
Tanjiro, in the midst of this, knelt down to clean the shards, while Zenitsu was too frozen, too paralyzed to do anything. The conversation was muffled. He felt like he was underwater and all he heard was abstractions of abstractions, of echoes of echoes. Of the roughness of Inosuske’s voice mingle with Tanjiro’s honey, consoling tones through the fog of anxiety.
Zenitsu spaced out so much that Insosuke whacked him on the head, showing a rare sign of concern. “Ponitsu, if you keep your mouth open like that, you’re going to get flies in it. So stop it!”
Tanjiro looked up at him with concern in his eyes.. Zenitsu’s hand was bleeding, dripping red, red, red, but Zenitsu didn’t notice. This small pain felt like nothing.
Zenitsu merely replied to Insosuke with a weak laugh, too stilted and artificial to bubble in his throat. “Yes, I’m….” Dab, dab, dab. Tanjiro was tending to his wounds.
“You’re?” Tanjiro looked into his eyes, his eyes searching in Zenitsu’s. Zenitsu felt tingles down his spine, as Tanjiro mended his wounds, Tanjiro’s rough, calloused hands caressing his own. The touch was so butterfly-fragile and small, yet like a single drop of rain splashing into a still pond, creating waves, this touch felt so much, too much, too intimate.
Too close.
Zenitsu couldn’t finish that sentence. He took his hand back, scurried out the door, and rushed out of there, putting out as much distance between them as possible.
Hours later, Zenitsu still felt the warm caress of Tanjiro’s strong, steady hands. The tenderness and gentleness in Tanjiro’s ministrations, gentle as the wading tide, kissing your feet.
But Zenitsu knew that indulging in these thoughts was dangerous, that savoring the brief glimpse of candle-warm touch of Tanjiro’s oak-steady hands, was dangerous.
Being around Tanjiro was dangerous.
**********
After Zenitsu ran, he ran all the way until he reached Nezuko’s room. He didn’t know why, why his feet took him there. But, when he saw Nezuko’s kind eyes, her equally gentle heartbeat, he knew why.
Nezuko was safe. Her heartbeat was different from Tanjiro’s. While it was kind, there was a certain softness, a melodic quality that Tanjiro’s heartbeat lacked. Tanjiro’s heartbeat was steady, sure, and vivid with life. It sounded like the confident, emboldened steps of a kind Samaritan, while Nezuko’s heartbeat was a song of spring.
Warm , Zenitsu thought. Nezuko was warm. That is why he was here. No matter what he was going through, he knew Nezuko understood. Nezuko’s presence was like a warm cup of tea after a long day.. She was comfort. Soft and kind.
Her kind eyes looked at him, so full of tenderness. She looked at him with intense concern and worry. She, in her own way, was asking if he was okay. If you looked at Zenitsu at this moment, you would see fright, terror, panic and hurt. You would see in how his hands trembled, in how his eyes glimmering with tears, in how raw and unwounded his expression was. You could see, just by looking at him, how desperately suffocated he felt.
In that sullen silence, so heavy it felt like iron on his shoulders, Zenitsu broke. He cried. He ugly cried, snot and tears running down his face. The room was silent, a heavy, sticky silence and all that could be heard was Zenitsu’s desperate, strangled sobs. A raw and broken melody.
He was a mess. He knew he was.
Nezuko chirped in concern and embraced him, nuzzling her cheek into his hair. With the sound of her heartbeat, so melodious and sweet, Zenitsu let all of his emotions out.
He was going to be okay, he decided. Zenitsu knew he needed to talk to someone, anyone, about this problem. Because Zenitsu himself didn’t know.
Why was he so desperately saddened at Tanjiro being in a relationship?
*********
Zenitsu went to the most socially-adept person he knew that was at the Butterfly Manner.
Tengen, the bastard, had three gorgeous, voluptuous wives, who loved and adored Tengen to pieces. Zenitsu knew, despite Tengen being arrogant, that this Romeo could help fix his problem. Tengen was obviously competent in how to handle people’s feelings, why else would he, a bumpkin, attract three beautiful and lively wives, all of whom way out of Tengen’s league.
So Zenitsu told Tengen everything. It wasn’t the best situation. If Zenitsu had the decision to talk to anyone about this particular issue, he would have picked his tenderhearted Grandfather, who had equal amounts of patience as he did resilience.
But that wasn’t an option and Zenitsu had to make the best of this situation.
So he told Tengen everything. Of heart-wrenching sadness, of yearning, of engulfing confusion, of Tanjiro leaving him behind.
He told him everything, with some sense of calmness. Zenitsu, when cradled in Nezuko’s arms, vowed he would never show anyone else the broken pieces, the cracks, the flaws in his immaculate, happy-go-lucky exterior. What the fool didn’t know was that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and everyone knew, including Tanjiro.
Tengen, in the moments of stillness, hummed and encouraged Zenitsu to continue. And at the end of the tale, when Zenitsu basically exposed himself, Tengen laughed, a real hearty, below-the-stomach, knee-slapping kind of laughter.
“You oblivious idiot, “he said, “You’re obviously jealous of Tanjiro! Leave it to an idiot like you to not understand that.”
“I mean, he’s lucky to have a girlfriend!”
“No,” Tengen sighed exasperatedly. “What I am saying is that you want to be in his girlfriend’s place. If Inosuske got a girlfriend or boyfriend (god save our souls if he ever does), would you react the same way?”
Zenitsu pondered on his words. He imagined Inosuske getting a significant other (even though he’s never shown any interest in romance whatsoever).All that came to mind was Inosuske’s boar mask with eyelashes and lipstick. Lipstick on a pig. Inosuske was already so obnoxious, so loud and energetic, that him having a girlfriend would just worsen that exponentially. The image felt false, too absurdist to be real. Zenitsu was already exasperated at the thought of Inosuske getting a girlfriend. The boar head was already so territorial, domineering and weird.
But no, Zenitsu knew, he wouldn’t be jealous, or sad, or heartbroken.
Tanjiro was different, somehow. When did that happen? When did Tanjiro become special?
Slowly overtime, with the sharing of beaming smiles, of heartwrenching burdens, of unspoken secrets and feelings, Tanjiro shifted into something more than just a platonic friend.
But, did that mean Zenitsu loved him? Does the pain and hurt and the coldness of his heart mean that he loved Tanjiro? He didn’t want to know.
What didn’t hurt was that Tanjiro got a girlfriend, what really broke Zenitsu was that Tanjiro would share more of himself, a side of himself that Zenitsu would never know, to someone else; that that lucky person would become treasured, precious and invaluable in Tanjiro’s heart, more so than any other person.
What stung Zenitsu was not jealousy,
It was rejection. Objective, severe, coal-black rejection.
But despite knowing this, Zenitsu squashed the notion that it might be love, that the bubbling bitterness in his throat meant that he was scared of being replaced. Zenitsu knew that love was a slippery slope, that ended in misery.
Love makes you vulnerable. Love makes you go crazy. Love is dangerous. Love was a tender fire, with soft flames and radiating warmth. It was life. Love is life, but if you go too close, try to reach or grasp the flames too much, you’ll get burned.
And Zenitsu, the ever-loving fool, got burned and burned and burned.
********
Tanjiro was concerned. For the past couple of weeks, Zenitsu had been avoiding him. Almost instantaneously, when Tanjiro arrived in the room, Zenitsu would evade him, the scent of bitter disappointment trailing behind him. Zenitsu normally smelled sweet, like peaches and cream, like sunshine and fruit bowls. But recently, Zenitsu’s scent has turned acrid, smokey, something corrupted from a delight sweetness to an acrimonious bitterness.
And Tanjiro knew it was because of him. But he didn’t know why.
This worry weighed on him so much that Kanao began to notice. During one of their nightly strolls through the garden, Tanjiro’s mind wasn’t on his girlfriend, but on his dear friend, someone whom he worried about greatly.
“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”
Tanjiro turned to face Kanao. Her face seemed blank on first notice, a canvas that could be interpreted as anything. A clean, enigmatic surface. But Tanjiro knew her. He saw in her the startings of sadness, the planted seeds of discordance. Her brow, barely furrowed, quivered just a bit. Her eyes glinted with something like concern, something like sorrow.
“You love him, don’t you?” Kanao whispered, her voice a sigh of closure.
Tanjiro was silent. He knew Zenitsu was precious to him. Special in every way. He was and is and always will be sunshine to him, dandelions glinting in the morning sun. His demeanor was energetic, lively, spriteful like the gossamer fingers of sunlight.
He was precious, yes, but did Tanjiro love him? He wasn’t sure.
“It’s obvious you do,” Kanao remarked; her tone had a certain finality. “You should see the way you look at him.”
A single tear shined as it glossed down Kanao’s pale, blank cheek. And she turned away, but Tanjiro tilted her face towards him.
“I’m sorry,” Tanjiro replied, his voice sounding far away. “I’m so sorry.”
In the deepest, untouched places of his heart, Tanjiro knew she was right. He knew, instinctively, that Zenitsu was special. That he always gravitated towards Zenitsu, that he always talked about Zenitsu when they were together, that in the back of his mind, was Zenitsu’s golden, warm eyes, not Kanao’s. That Zenitsu was his warmth, his strength, his heart.
But Tanjiro was torn. He knew Kanao was precious to him too, that he held a certain fondness for her, but she wasn’t his heart, his stronghold.
No, Tanjiro thought. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Kanao to be with her when his heart was strung along for another.
It wouldn’t be fair to her, to Tanjiro, or to Zenitsu.
And Kanao knew this too.
Kanao’s perfect exterior broke. She wept and clung to him, soaking his haori with tears.
Tanjiro held her and knew, this meeting was a farewell, a good-bye to what had been and what could have been. Tanjiro should have mourned this loss, but instead, he felt relieved, saddened, but relieved.
***********
Zenitsu was walking around the garden with Nezuko. They were picking flowers, beautiful white blossoms, pink camellias, and yellow roses.
He was in a more serene place, something like peace.
Until he turned the corner and saw Kanao and Tanjiro hugging desperately, Tanjiro’s arms wound tightly against Kanao’s waist.
I want that, Zenitsu thought. He so badly wanted for Tanjiro to hug him, to embrace him, to rejoice with him, to be sad with him, to do life with him, to be everything to him.
The tender intimacy of the moment served as a reminder for Zenitsu of what can’t be, of what will never be.
He felt that someone had cut into him, reached deep inside him, only to mess up and mangle his heart.
That’s what love does, after all. It leaves you open and vulnerable , to pain. It leaves a space open in you that allows for someone else to fill, to reach inside of you, and mend or break you.
I love him, Zenitsu realized, to his utter mortification. He realized that yes, he did love him. He felt mended but broken at the same time. His world was put back together. Common sense was back. Of course, Zenitsu felt this way. He was in love. Tengen’s harsh words echoed in his mind.
You oblivious idiot.
Zenitsu was a fool, a fool for companionship, a fool for affection, a fool for love.
A fool for Tanjiro.
He was a fool. Only to realize he was in love with Tanjiro after the fact, after it was too late. After everything that has happened.
Nezuko nudged her foot at Zenitsu’s, worry furrowing her brow.
She grabbed his hand and gave a pink camellia to Zenitsu, almost as if she was saying, you’ll find love too. She patted Zenitsu’s head.
The weight of her hand, icelike and cooling, calmed him. Maybe he’ll find someone like Tanjiro. Maybe someday in the future, Zenitsu will find something like happiness.
How bittersweet this tastes, the taste of realization, of joy, and sorrow.
How bittersweet it was to be a fool.
**********
Dawn came. Zenitsu stayed up all night, thinking, thinking, thinking. His heart felt like a lump of coal in his chest, a blackened, shriveled thing.
Zenitsu felt like his ears were filled with cotton. Everything was muffled, like it was filtered through frosted glass.
It should have been concerning to Zenitsu. But Zenitsu felt numb, his head floaty. The world felt wrong, a scrambled, pale resemblance of what was.
Facts seemed subjective. Truth bent. Time distorted.
Reality felt wrong.
However, having normal hearing for once, not being inundated with a constant stream of sound, was nice, was peace. Zenitsu could just float down the river of his own making, and no one could touch him.
No one could hurt him.
*******
Peace. Finally.
Zenitsu was on a solo mission, which would have normally scared Zenitsu, but somehow, as he was walking along a glinting river, with the sun smiling at him, with the gentle breeze kissing him, he felt okay.
******
Buttercups and caramel. Paris in a bite.
The town was pastel-cute, filled with gentle hues. Zenitsu stopped by a mochi shop, the taste of sweetness on his lips.
How sweet and at peace he felt, lulled by the hazy, dreamy yellows and ochres.
How perfect was this town
*****
Everything felt like there was a veneer over it. Things were too immaculate, too perfect. The girls were so beautiful here in this village, all out of Zenitsu’s dreams. They were so gorgeous it hurt, like they were out of a Renaissance painting. Raven black hair, and red, warm eyes, tanned skin.
They were beautiful. And he liked them and they liked him! What a match made in heaven.
How wonderful and perfect was this pastel-sweet town.
*****
Okay now at this point, Zenitsu should have been suspicious.
He just won a boatload of money. Green, green, green, gold, gold gold. Somehow, Zenitsu wound up at a bar, with two of the gorgeous girls hanging on his arms, Hanniko and Tanniko. Both twins.
They were out of his dreams. In fact, Zenitsu is pretty sure that that was literally true.
As Hanniko and Tanniko laughed at every humorous quip Zenitsu said (which would have never happened in real life Zenitsu was pretty sure), Zenitsu felt hollow.
This isn’t what he wanted.
And then suddenly the world turned black, inky black.
*****
Zenitsu woke up again, but instead, the bar was empty. But he heard a sweet, too sweet, too honey sweet heartbeat right by him.
He jolted and saw that he was in the arms of Tanjiro, dream-Tanjiro to be sure.
He tried to get away, but Tanjiro stopped him, grabbing his hand swiftly, and pulled him down.
“Where are you going?” Tanjiro purred, a sound too lascivious to be his voice.
“Ah!” Zenitsu squawked, his shoulders up to his ears. “Well, I gotta be somewhere and you know how that is and--”
Then Tanjiro cupped Zenitsu’s cheeks, leaning in too close, so close, that Zenitsu could see the specks of gold and burgundy in Tanjiro’s eyes, freckles on his cheeks. Zenitsu stiffened and keened. He was frozen, completely entranced by Dream-Tanjiro’s alluring eyes.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Dream-Tanjiro smirked, a wolfish grin playing on his lips. His eyes devoured Zenitsu, overwhelming him.
“Ah-well, that’s-”
“Why are you protesting sweet-heart?” Dream-Tanjiro leaned in even closely, his lips grazing against Zenitsu’s.
“Just give in.” He whispered against Zenitsu’s lips. “Just give in to me.”
“But-” Zenitsu tried to protest, try to push him away, but Dream Tanjiro was stronger.
“I love you” Dream-Tanjiro murmured, his tone of voice too cloying, too artificially sweet to be from Tanjiro’s.
But Zenitsu longed to hear those words, those sweet, sweet words. A song to his ears, lyracle to his ears.
Yes, maybe this is the only way Zenitsu could have him.
So he closed his eyes, ready to submit, to surrender to a bittersweet conclusion. He was so hungry for love, so desperate to be cherished, so vulnerable to the slightest touch, that Zenitsu just wanted to forget everything.
Maybe, in this liminal space, in this dream world where everything was hazy, blurry, and intangible, Zenitus could find something tangible.
So as he closed his eyes, Zenitsu was ready.
But then the dreamy haziness shattered. The world swirled,and then Zenitsu was thrusted back into real life.
The source of this disruption was right in front of him. Tanjiro, the real Tanjiro, was here.
“Tanjiro?” Zenitsu screamed. “What are you doing here?”
“You’ve been gone for three days,” Tanjiro answered, a concerned smile on his lips. “But it’s okay. I’m here, I’m here for you.”
As Tanjiro rushed to Zenitsu, a spear was thrown at him.
“Not so fast,” a raspy, cloying voice commanded.
The Dream-Tanjiro was replaced by a demon, who was so strange, so stilted that Zenitsu couldn’t quite describe their appearance. The demon was so pale, so frightfully pale, that he looked almost translucent.
Enigmatic, the Demon was. The Demon was a blurry, blink-of-an-eye shadow. The type of image that you would only see in your peripheral vision, blurry and obscured.
“Oh?” The demon examined Tanjiro, as Tanjiro made a move to hit him. “Ah, I see why you like him” Pale, blue eyes meeting Zenitsu’s, as Tanjiro continued his assault. The demon dodged with ease, completely nonchalant. “He has kind eyes.” A dreamy, wistful sigh.
With a flick of the Demon’s hand, the world turned again. Zenitsu tried to run to Tanjiro, tried to catch him, but he slipped through his fingers.
The world kept turning and turning and turning. With each shift, Zenitsu and Tanjiro found themselves in another liminal space, an unreality between an unreality, an afterimage of an afterimage.
They both couldn’t get to the demon. “Oh? Well, this is getting boring,” The Demon laughed, his voice filling the entire world, a cruel, chilling echo. “I usually don’t have to play this much with my prey.”
The turning stopped and the world righted itself once again.
“Well, I might as well have some fun while I am at it,” The demon decided, with poison in his eyes.
Everything happened so quickly. For some reason, all of the Demon’s attacks were an onslaught of terror and steel. Spear after spear was thrown and Zenitsu tried to get to the Demon, but the Demon kept sending Zenitsu attack after attack. Finally, something broke inside Zenitsu.
If he didn’t do something, both he and Tanjiro would die. He could see that the Demon’s attacks were wearing Tanjiro down, by the exhausted falter in Tanjiro’s dodges, by the piercing fear in his heartbeat, and the war-torn tiredness marred in his features. The Demon, sensing this, finally made one final, finishing move, a clear end in sight. His moves were so swift and clean, like an experienced archer’s perfect aim. A long sword, tipped in some type of poison, was aimed right at Tanjiro, the demon smiling with wolffish delight. It was projected just so perfectly, completely in sync, that when Tanjiro landed, he would be hit.
Tanjiro was in mid air, about to land, and Zenitsu knew, if he didn’t do something fast, Tanjiro would be speared clean through.
With one final shove, Zenitsu, helpless, rushed to Tanjiro with lightning speed. He pushed Tanjiro out of the way, and felt his skin be cleanly sliced through.
Pain, Zenitsu felt excruciating pain. Tanjiro’s screams could be heard, and as Tanjiro tried to rush to Zenitsu, the Demon lept and made a move to pin Tanjiro down. Tanjiro, with a final move, seemed to see an opening, and as the Demon’s claws turned to swords, ready to slice Tanjiro through, Tanjiro dodged. With one final move, the Demon’s head was sliced through.
Zenitsu felt his eyes water. The poison was kicking in very fast. Tanjiro rushed by Zenitsu’s side.
Tanjiro swiftly picked up Zenitsu, cradled him, like he was something so precious and invaluable.
Droplets fell on Zenitsu’s face. And Zenitsu opened his eyes, to see Tanjiro weeping, weeping for his sake.
“Why?” Pleading, eyes filled with concern. “Why did you push me out of the way? Why did you sacrifice yourself?” Tanjiro’s voice wavered. His looked so distraught, the twisted look of pain on his features. His eyes shined with tears, and his chest heaved with broken sobs.
Even when smeared with blood and sweat and grime, with eyes of sadness, Tanjiro still looked so beautiful. The Demon only paled in comparison, a false substitute. Tanjiro was so beautiful it hurt. He was so needlessly loveable that Zenitsu felt something crack in him.
“I love you,” Zenitsu smiled dreamily, reaching up to brush Tanjiro’s blood-soaked bangs out of the way.
“I love you so much,” he laughed bitterly. He said it over and over and over again. And Tanjiro kissed his hands, his forehead, his lips.
And finally, Zenitsu felt the poison truly kick in. His body went slack. In the back of his mind, he thought he heard Tanjiro say those precious, sweet words.
I love you.
And with a smile, Zenitsu felt closure. Felt peace. Felt sweet surrender.
All he wanted was to be loved by Tanjiro.
It was okay, okay, okay now. Everything was okay.
******
Warmth, Zenitsu woke up to yellow sunlight peeking through the blinds, red, butterscotch eyes smiling at him, and gentle, peaceful music. Of what he realized was Tanjiro’s heartbeat.
“Thank God you’re finally awake,” Tanjiro noted, his voice so relieved and joyful. “I am so glad you’re okay.”
Zenitsu smiled in return. Not sure what really happened. Zenitsu looked towards Tanjiro and asked, “What happened?” His voice a creamy, butterfly-like murmur.
“Well, apparently, you are a self-sacrificing idiot,” Tanjiro snorted. And then his voice became so soft, so-feather soft that Zenitsu felt exposed almost, like Tanjiro saw something deeper in him. “You’re so brave” Tanjiro caressed Zenitsu’s cheek “stupid but brave, and one more thing--”
Tanjiro knelt down so that he was at Zenitsu’s face level. “Zenitsu, don’t ever do that again,” Tanjiro’s voice broke, “I almost lost you,” He kissed Zenitsu’s hand. “Please, for my sake, don’t do that.”
Zenitsu felt so warm and at peace, hearing Tanjiro’s honey-laden, affectionate heartbeat in the background. It sounded familiar, Zenitsu thought. Tanjiro’s heartbeat was sweeter today, like a pitter-patter of fresh spring rain.
And Zenitsu finally remembered. Of his sacrifice,of the blood-curdling pain, of the worlds between worlds, and of the entangled feelings he felt.
He remembered his confession finally clear af day. And at that moment, Zenitsu stiffened and averted Tanjiro’s gaze.
“You remember, don’t you?”
Zenitsu blushed deeply and tried to relinquish his hand from Tanjiro. He felt Tanjiro’s soft, rain-gentle touches were too intimate, too much, too overwhelming.
Too loving.
And then Tanjiro snorted a bit. “Well, I understand why you’re panicking, but I want you to know I love you, and that you have nothing to worry about,”
Zenitsu was stunned, his heart fluttering. He felt like someone cracked a glow stick inside of him, an intensely wonderful warmth that made Zenitsu feel so full, full of delight, and joy. And then like puzzle pieces finally arranged together to complete the picture, Zenitsu finally understood.
Tanjiro did love him, but why?
“Aren’t you with Kanao? Isn’t she your girlfriend?”
Tanjiro kissed Zenitsu’s forehead, and smoothed his bangs over. “She was.” He confirmed. “But we broke because well,” Tanjiro leaned his forehead onto Zenitsu’s. “Because she knew I loved you more than I could help.” Tanjiro’s face grew warm and he looked sheepish. “I just realized too late. She had to spell it out for me.”
“Ah, then we’re both idiots.”
“Yes, perhaps.” Tanjiro chuckled. “But we can be idiots together.”
Together.
Zenitsu’s mind kept repeating that word over and over again. Somehow, he lucked out. He felt so fortunate, so overjoyed, that his heart was too big, too sweet, too full.
How sweet it is to be a fool.
“I love you,” Zenitsu whispered, tears spilling from his eyes.
And then those honey-sweet, chocolate-savory words came.
“I love you too.”
And at those words, Zenitsu felt rest, peace, sure. For the first time, Zenitsu wasn’t afraid of the future, of what would be, of what could have been. He wasn’t afraid.
Zenitsu, with Tanjiro, was made stronger, mended, and restored. Because that is what love does. Loving means bearing your heart to someone, allowing someone to reach inside you and fill in the cracks. Love heals. Love restores. And Love endures.