Chapter Text
Nothing, in his humble opinion, is worse than the uniform checks at the gate in the morning.
Zenitsu looks down at his notepad. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he only had to report the problem students – but no, he’s supposed to solve their problems too. He ought to teach them discipline. Probably. Tomioka -sensei never cleared that part up. Last time he told a big guy to take off his purple shades, he got punched in the face. There's still a slight wobble in his tooth. It's not like he’s an intimidating figure. He’s a wallflower – literally, well almost literally – he’s like a yellow dandelion growing at the feet of the wall. He sure has unfortunate yellow hair to go with that metaphor.
“Monitsu!”
“Hyaaaah!” Zenitsu jumps at the noise, his back to the gate. It's that weird wild kid again, his arms akimbo as he stands flaunting his abs in half-sleeves amidst this mid-winter chill. “Button up your shirt, Inosuke,” sometimes Zenitsu thinks the wild boy does it only to annoy him, even more so since they’ve started spending time outside school – over this... other business. He's too sleep-deprived to deal with this right now. “Button up your – stop headbutting me!”
“Um. Excuse me?”
They turn mid-fight, Zenitsu’s palm pushing against Inosuke’s face. The new student could’ve just passed them by, but instead he stopped to introduce himself. He has such a kind face. Brown hair, large brown eyes. There's a certain scar on his forehead, and he’s wearing large square earrings. Dress code violation. Zenitsu stares. The boy seems so kind. He is well-dressed otherwise, so maybe Zenitsu should let the earrings go.
“No earrings.” Zenitsu almost speaks against his will. I should’ve let it go. Now he’s going to look sad. Please don’t look sad.
He doesn’t look sad, but definitely troubled. Zenitsu bites his lip and waits. New guy’s the one breaking the rules, why am I feeling bad about this?!
Suddenly the boy bows to them. “I’m aware of the rules. But I’m deliberately breaking them. These earrings have been passed on to me by my father, please don’t ask me to take them off!”
Don’t do this. Don’t break rules so politely. What is anyone supposed to do in this situation? New guy should’ve simply snuck in when he was busy bickering with Inosuke. “I... uhh,” Zenitsu scratches the back of his head, hesitating. Tomioka-sensei will perhaps murder them both if he spots the earrings. Or Zenitsu will finally be kicked out of the morals committee, and to be honest, he’s been wanting that since ages. “Okay, okay. I'll let this pass. Just go.”
The boy smiles, his eyes brightening. “Thank you so much.” Then he holds out his hand. Zenitsu shakes it, his insides rumbling. The boy’s hands are rough – he must be doing tons of physical work; is he poor? – but there’s a certain warmth in how he holds his hand. It's an odd, warm feeling.
“I’m Kamado Tanjirou. I'll be joining the Freshman class from today.”
“Agatsuma Zenitsu.”
“Hashibira Inosuke!”
Tanjirou runs ahead, then turns to wave. “I’ll see you guys later!”
They watch him disappear into the building. Zenitsu returns to do uniform checks, feeling oddly breathless. It's jealousy, it’s jealousy – what else can it possibly be? Tanjirou. What a lad. He'd make a great first impression upon the teachers. Tanjirou exudes so much warmth it makes him want to cry. Tanjirou is probably brilliant in his studies as well – he looks like a polite, hardworking model student. As if there weren’t four already. Now there’s one more to slip in and push him off the ranks. That's what it is. That’s what he feels about Tanjirou. Yes, decided. Jealousy. He's convinced.
“You know, you are not very fair” Inosuke comments off-handedly, peeking into Zenitsu’s notepad to look for his own name.
“Shut up,” he renders Inosuke a bored glance, smacking him on the arm with it. It's almost time for class and he hopes he’s relieved of his gate duty. “Let’s go. And button the damn shirt.”
Zenitsu is jealous. So jealous. In fact, he’s so jealous that he spends the first couple of classes keenly observing Tanjirou. He's – he's just scouting for potential rivals, that’s it. Zenitsu's right on point about many things: Tanjirou is fast becoming a favourite both with the teachers and the students. He's honest and likeable. He's also kind of cute, but that’s off the point (he’s already been caught red-faced and dumbstruck when Tanjirou turned and smiled at him from his own desk).
However, Tanjirou doesn’t seem to be as brilliant as Zenitsu thought he’ll be. After a while his happy face feels like a façade – he’s visibly struggling, barely able to keep up with the class at times. In the math class, sweat beads up his face and the vein on his forehead almost pops while skimming hurriedly through his textbook.
So Zenitsu approaches him during lunch. Tanjirou is sitting at his desk by the window, writing up on the courses he’s been lagging behind. The sunlight bounces off his hair and it looks reddish, sort of like smouldering coal.
“I don’t really get it.”
Zenitsu stops short on his tracks. Was Tanjirou talking to him? He didn’t even raise his head.
“Yo,” he takes up the desk in front of Tanjirou’s. “You saw me coming?”
“I smelled you.”
Huh? Zenitsu feels himself bypassing maroon. What is that even supposed to mean?! “If you had to tell me that I stink you didn’t have to be so direct about it, Tanjirouuu,” he whines loudly, “I take baths every day, I try my best! That hurt, Tanjiroouu!”
Tanjirou laughs at his frivolous crying, then corrects himself, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I just have a good sense of smell. I can recognise people.”
“Oh,” he tilts his head innocuously, thinking, “So what do I smell like?”
Tanjirou considers for a moment, “I’m not sure how to describe... it’s like maybe – peaches?”
“Peaches?” Zenitsu blinks, then giggles out loud, “Makes sense! My gramps owns a peach garden. I wish it was citrus – or lemongrass – or a ginger garden. I'd have a more masculine smell – and that would drive the girls crazy! Imagine that! Kyaaaah!”
Tanjirou simply stares, bewildered. Zenitsu snaps out of his daydream soon. “So, actually, I came here to ask you if you’re doing good with the –” he glances at Tanjirou’s notebook, “that equation’s wrong. You're supposed to take the variables the other way around. Here, let me show you.” He takes the pen from Tanjirou and solves the equation. It’s a very easy one, but Tanjirou looks confused. It's not as if he’s slow, it’s as if he’s seeing these concepts for the first time.
“Tanjirou, which school do you come from?”
He hesitates. “I was uh – I was home-schooled.”
“Oh.” It’s suspicious. Something tells him that Tanjirou is not very well-off, and definitely not well-off enough to afford home-schooling. Zenitsu decides not to prod further. However, the original purpose of coming to Tanjirou’s desk was to offer him whatever help he needs to catch up with his studies – and that completely slips off Zenitsu’s mind. “Aren’t you gonna have lunch?”
“Right,” Tanjirou laughs nervously, “I thought I’ll buy something from the canteen.” He’s making a weird face for some reason, staring determinedly at the ceiling. Zenitsu gets it – he thinks he does – it's a tell. Tanjirou can’t speak lies without being painfully obvious.
“Oh, do you want me to come along –”
He clumsily shuts his notebook and puts it in his bag. “I was actually planning to meet Tomioka-sensei. I'll buy something along the way.” Then he stands up and starts to walk away, “See you later, Zenitsu!”
Zenitsu sighs. Something sinks to the pit of his stomach. Was he that whiny and annoying that he sent someone as kind and nice as Tanjirou scuttling off with blatant lies? It shouldn’t hurt as much as it is; he’s known Tanjirou for what – half a day? Maybe they aren’t meant to be friends. He'll just go and read a book now. Or cry his eyes out in the bathroom, or whatever. Maybe pick a fight with Inosuke.
It's late afternoon when Zenitsu is sauntering alone in the library, looking for a book when someone looms in from behind and taps him on the shoulder. “Hyaaah!” he jumps in alarm, crashing into a bookshelf that fortunately doesn’t collapse. His scream, however, echoes into the quiet reading hall and now he’s thrown out by the librarian, followed by an apologetic Tanjirou.
“Don’t come up from behind like that!” he cries loudly, now that they’re outside, walking along the hallway to the playground, “I have a weak heart, I get scared easily! I could have died! Died!”
Tanjirou gives him a rueful smile. “Zenitsu.”
They stop walking. After being abandoned at lunch, Zenitsu couldn’t gather the courage to approach Tanjirou again, so he maintained his distance from the boy for the rest of the day. It's weird that Tanjirou would want to see him now; the school’s almost over, most of the classes have emptied. Maybe he’s overthinking it; maybe he has something that belongs to Tanjirou – that's why Tanjirou’s here. Did he take his pen by mistake during lunch?
Tanjirou continues. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
“Eh?”
Forgive him for what?
“I lied to you during lunch. I'm not a very good liar. And I know that new friendships can’t be forged over lies so I... I don’t want to lie anymore. I am not home-schooled. I used to live in a village in the mountains. I came to the city with my family last month. I’ve been trying to catch up with my education over the past year, so I'm still struggling. I came to the city because of a family… reason. It’s a secret, and it has to be kept such – and I'm sorry about it! But everything else is the truth.”
Zenitsu stares blankly. That's a whole lot of details to take in; he doesn’t even get to process what the secret might be. The fact that Tanjirou finds him trustworthy is... good enough. “O-okay,” he stutters, “that’s alright. I – uh,” he scratches the back of his head, not knowing what to say, “thanks?”
What. Colour rising up his face, Zenitsu immediately tries to shift gears of the conversation after what was possibly the most bizarre response to Tanjirou’s story. “So, uh – I’m kind of hungry.” With the worst follow-up ever. Facepalm.
Tanjirou just looks relieved. He fishes into his bag and pulls out a small paper packet. Inside there is a riceball, and he offers it to Zenitsu. “Here.”
“Thanks,” he half-wonders if that’s a peace offering from Tanjirou for running off during lunch. “Are you not gonna have any?”
“Oh, that’s all I had.”
He really hasn’t eaten anything for the entire day? Zenitsu hopes that isn’t true. He breaks off the riceball into two, giving back one half to Tanjirou. “Here. Food tastes better when it’s shared.”
“Thanks,” Tanjirou grins.
Zenitsu's hand brushes against Tanjirou’s rough, calloused hand and he feels a thrill going through him. His insides rumble – he's just hungry, that’s it. They sit on the stairs at the side of the playground, eating in awkward silence. Zenitsu's mind travels into territories he doesn’t allow himself to lean in. He’s - he’s not – attracted to Tanjirou , is he? No – girlsgirlsgirlsgirls – think about girls – he wants to hold soft and cute girls’ hands and not rough and strong and warm Tanjirou hands –
“It’s impolite,” Tanjirou says out of the blue, “I’ve been only talking about myself. Please tell me more about yourself.”
“Me?” he blinks. Is there anything worth knowing about him? He's kind of a loser. “Well,” he tries, “I have a grandpa and a big brother who is an asshole.” He grimaces at his own words – “asshole” here by no means is a term of endearment. If he talks more about his big brother, he might just go into a furious rant, so he ignores the subject altogether.
He’s sure Tanjirou takes it otherwise. He speaks of his own siblings, his mother, and his newly-opened family bakery. Zenitsu looks puzzled. He thought they weren’t supposed to talk about Tanjirou’s family?
“I trust you,” Tanjirou tells him. Zenitsu stares. Why though? Tanjirou points at his nose, as if that’s how he gauges a person’s character.
Makes sense. Zenitsu also has a gift of hearing, although it’s overbearing. His hearing is so keen it’s almost as if he can hear the different symphony each person makes. He remembers the first time he heard Inosuke’s sound – the chaotic upbeat drum-beat kind of sound with an understated soft symphony. It also makes sense why he immediately associated Tanjirou with a sense of security; it’s the kindest, softest sound – even kinder than his grandpa’s – it's like a slow piano ballad and the sensation of falling asleep under the warm winter sun.
“My sister’s here,” Tanjirou gets up and runs ahead at the small figure that’s slowly tottering towards them. He waves, “Nezuko!”
The girl comes up to them, her long hair fluttering behind her, and big doe-eyes blinking confusedly. She's holding a loaf of bread in her mouth – just holding, not eating it? – and she’s so cute Tanjirouuu you never told me your sister is that cute she must be as gentle and kind as Tanjirou, and her sound is –
Zenitsu's heart throbs ominously as she nears them. Demon.
No, no – he must be mistaken –
It's a demon sound. Distinctly different from humans. Her sound is harmless, unlike most bloodthirsty ones, but it’s still demon.
What should he do now? Should he tell them he’s figured it out? Is this the secret Tanjirou didn’t want to talk about? Also, what kind of demon is his sister? Why is she so... harmless? She's isn’t attacking humans, and she’s also out at a time demons usually don’t come out of their dens – the sun has barely set – isn’t it risky? Won’t she turn to dust?
Then he decides to throw himself between the girl and a speeding, furious Inosuke, tackling him to the ground. Inosuke must have sensed the demon too, as he's trying to struggle out of Zenitsu’s grip like a fish out of water. They both wrestle on the ground amidst clouds of dust, Zenitsu clamping down on Inosuke’s mouth before he spits out the facts tactlessly. There are a bunch of civilians around as well, a couple is sitting on the bench... it would simply cause unnecessary panic.
“Just... excuse us... for a minute,” Zenitsu chokes out to a rather confused brother and sister, red-faced and panting, before managing to drag Inosuke to the backyard.
“What are you doing?!” Zenitsu screams into his face, finally letting him go.
“It’s a demon!”
So here’s the other business. A few months ago, Zenitsu bumped into Inosuke in the boar boy’s madcap excitement about slaying demons that lurk in the corners of the city. He didn’t even know that Inosuke was a demon hunter in the same jurisdiction as him – Zenitsu would’ve perhaps known, if he wasn’t utterly, absolutely terrified of demons. He's weak, and he keeps imagining some demon tongue guzzling his brains out of his ears – eeuuughgh – they're all terrifying okay?! His grandpa has entrenched all that samurai training in his brain – but he can’t do shit. And yet he drags himself to patrol every night, just so he doesn’t have to see a sorry frown on his grandpa’s face. His grandpa would probably cry in shame if he ever sees him in battle, given how pathetic he is. He doesn’t even remember most of the fighting; he mostly blacks out, and the demon probably thinks he’s feigning death, and just let him be. You know, like bears.
Inosuke... is a bit different. He cackles with glee after every demon killing. Apparently, he has come to the city because he couldn’t find any more demons to kill in the mountains. That being said, he can’t just mindlessly rush to attack when the situation is this... delicate.
“That demon is Tanjirou’s sister!” he stares daggers at Inosuke. He expects Inosuke to retort but he calms down instead, his shoulders drooping. It’s then that Zenitsu realises Inosuke didn’t possess that last bit of information. “Also, what the hell were you gonna do? You don’t even have your swords!”
Inosuke mumbles with no energy. “Would’ve crushed... demon head... with hands.” Then he dramatically looks at his hands, defeated.
Zenitsu buries his face into his own palms. “Okay. Let's just ask Tanjirou what the hell’s this all about.”
From: <<Unknown number>>
Matcha cake
Daifuku
Mushi pan
Zenitsu sits up on his bed, furrowing his brows together. Some unknown number just texted him a list of sweets. He'd have assumed it’s gramps and that he’s using someone else’s phone at the confectionary or something, but Zenitsu can clearly hear him snoring in the other room. Kaigaku is on the roof as well, though there was never a chance it was from him.
His phone vibrates again. Another text powers through.
From: <<Unknown number>>
Which of them do you like? (this was my v first text didn’t see it never went thru)
Someone’s asking what sweets he likes? What's going on? Is this a prank? Could it be – no, it couldn’t be him, could it –
Another new text.
From: <<Unknown number>>
Nezuko is asking. She wants to bake sweets for you and Inosuke. You both should come to our bakery someday. :D
His insides flip in discomfort. He feels strangely hot under the collar; how did Tanjirou get his number??? Should he ask? Of course, he will – he'll never sleep in peace again if he doesn’t get to the end of this–
He types up a reply. His fingertips tremble slightly. He might have capslocked his keypad in excitement.
To: TANJIROU
NEZUKO CHAAAAAAAAN! THANK YOU!!! YOU ARE THE BEST NEZUKO CHAAN ASFDSHG HOW DID YOU GETMY NUMBER TANJIROU
Back in the evening at school, Tanjirou had already overheard the entire conversation in the backyard (and so did a lot of people – perhaps – because Inosuke and Zenitsu are just that loud). He told them the entire story, how he found his sister wounded and transformed into a demon in the woods, and he’s been looking for a cure to turn her back into a human. Tomioka sensei had sent him to his former master to train as a demon-hunter.
(“WHAAAAAAT?” Zenitsu had screamed, “Tomioka sensei is a demon hunter??? He's a hashira??!!!”
“You don’t know shit, Ugetsu,” Inosuke had chastised him. To be scolded by Inosuke for not knowing something is... big. Zenitsu needs to stay more awake during his night-time patrols.)
Regardless, Tanjirou told them Nezuko has been tested over and over again, and she has never hurt humans or ever will. Now that all of the confusion was out of question, he could finally get to know Nezuko better – she’s so cute after all – so he talked to her non-stop on their way from school until the siblings parted. Too bad the loaf of bread was there like a muzzle to hide her demon teeth, and that she only mumbles illegibly, and that she was skipping ahead every time he tried to start a conversation... but he’s sure she liked him back.
She's so cute! He wants to make her flower crowns all day. It also explains his odd giddiness today – his throat drying up, heart pumping unnaturally. He has a crush!
From: TANJIROU
Tomioka -sensei gave me your number. Because you’re class rep and that I can ask you for help! I hope that’s okay :(
To: TANJIROU
oh yes its fine!
From: TANJIROU
Also can you text me Inosuke’s number?
To: TANJIROU
Contact: inoshishi
i don’t think its any use though, he never texts back -_-
From: TANJIROU
Thanks! ^_^
And thanks for today. For being so kind and understanding. You are a v good friend, Zenitsu :)
He lets out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, puts the phone down and falls onto his bed, headfirst into the pillow. Tanjirou is a special kind of idiot, isn’t he? The boy can’t just keep doing that, keep heaping praises for no reason. It's making Zenitsu feel... hopeful. He's starting to be wary of it. It's too kind, too warm, too good for its own good. It's a terrifying new feeling.
He senses his phone vibrate under him again; his heart jumps. His face heats up and he barely squints open to check; there's only so much kindness that he can take. Then he sees the message and deflates.
From: DSC
::Confidential::
Killings in Shinjuku City. Possible demons. Report ASAP.
Of course. When his box of happiness overflows, his box of luck runs out. He sits up and kicks out a trunk from under the bed, pulling out his uniform, and a frayed yellow haori. He takes off his t-shirt in a slow drag, like a prisoner on a death sentence walking towards the noose. Too many good things have happened today. He’s going to die tonight, isn’t he?