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Zenitsu’s body language was very clear in any of the circumstances that happened throughout his life. It said absolutely everything about him—his happiness, his sadness, his fears, his efforts, his ability and his limits. Especially his limits.
Personal space was one of them.
Sometimes Zenitsu opened it, deliberately or involuntarily, and other times he closed it. Sometimes he prohibited it, other times he allowed it. Most of the time he refused to let strangers approach him, touch him, or just stare at him with the intention of entering for fear that he would someday end up dead due to his senselessness. (All kinds of strangers except beautiful ladies, of course, always welcome). The other part of the time unfortunately Zenitsu couldn’t even avoid it. There were times when the personal space was completely broken due to wounds, blows or Demons; like a space forced to open without you noticing until the second later.
Like for example, what had just happened to Zenitsu.
He was applying a balm on the exposed skin of his shoulder that Tanjirou had given him from Shinobu-san—the precious Shinobu-san—unique in that it was made with herbs only aromatic to humans, the scent non-existent to Demons. Zenitsu carefully applied it to the bruise and scratch on his left shoulder, and once he put on the freshly dried top of the Demon Slayer uniform and his haori, he hissed through his teeth at the friction of the fabric. At least the scent of the balm was mixed in his nostrils with peppermint and lavender. It was nice despite the throbbing pain.
Zenitsu really was a mess.
At first he thought his shoulder joint or clavicle was broken and it didn’t help Tanjirou that Zenitsu started shouting terrified. But after all, absolutely nothing had broken in a fall of more than thirty meters high into the water. Thank God.
Zenitsu sighed and looked ahead, his eyes widening with the faintest of movements. His back tensed against the rock he was leaning on the ground, prepared to face the person who was crossing gazes with him.
Another thing that was very clear—seeing Inosuke approaching without his boar mask on—was that the man never understood what the limit implied in Zenitsu’s personal space. Nope. Even Zenitsu didn’t get the idea of what the stupid boar understood or didn’t understand!
“I could have won you in the battle against them up there!” Inosuke snorted, clenching his hands into fists at his sides, stamping with each step. “You’re slower every day, Monitsu.”
Zenitsu rolled his eyes at the comment and at the strange giggle that came later that only Inosuke was able to do. Zenitsu crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes when he noticed that Inosuke was about to reached out.
“Don’t even think about touching me.” Zenitsu said, pointing an index finger at him and staring at the hand that was going to land somewhere on his body possibly as a blow, hard or not. “You’re going to make it hurt me more, you idiot.”
“You are the idiot for jumping off the waterfall.” Inosuke blurted out, and challenged him with his eyes, as if Zenitsu had done something stupid.
“I slipped, which is different!” Zenitsu snapped in a clarification, raising his arms frantically in the air. The sharp sting on his shoulder didn’t thank it. “Two demons were following me and the ground just collapsed. I ALMOST DIE THERE!”
Zenitsu hissed then and murmured under his breath insult after insult, placing a hand to his shoulder without actually touching it.
Inosuke crossed his arms, scrutinizing him with a smirk. “Heh. Gonpachiro says that you haven’t broken your shoulder.”
The start of Zenitsu’s fears surfaced and he shot his gaze at Inosuke, making his skin stand on end with an angry whimper.
“I COULD HAVE BROKEN IT.”
“Hah?” Inosuke’s mouth twisted and his eyebrows furrowed in amazement. “YOU WANTED TO BREAK IT OR WHAT?”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT, YOU IDIOT!” Zenitsu yelled. But his sulky expression broke out in horror as Inosuke leaned down and this time he did reach out to grab his cheeks, pinching and stretching them to the sides. Zenitsu was startled, narrowed his eyes at the pinch and resisted long enough, leaning back in a groan. “Stop it—you’re hurting me stupid boar!”
Zenitsu gripped Inosuke’s hands tightly and jumped up from the ground. Inosuke released him with that stupid grin on his face and Zenitsu closed his eyes, lowered his head and sighed in exasperation, running a hand over his face. It was done. He gave up. He wanted his suffering to end at once.
He shouldn’t have even thought about it because Inosuke was leaning towards him now, too close for his comfort and—
—Inosuke entered his personal space with a single step. Zenitsu looked up sharply and made an incoherent noise as he saw Inosuke’s face at that short distance. Too close, too close, too close. Zenitsu panicked just a little and took a step back, but the heel of his foot hit against the rock and his body stiffened at the action so as not to fall.
What—
Inosuke was no longer looking at him. He was sniffing the air with curiosity, occasionally casting fleeting looks across Zenitsu’s body, as if he was searching.
Zenitsu opened his mouth to say something, but was slightly startled the moment he felt a touch, and snapped his mouth shut. Inosuke wrapped his calloused hand around Zenitsu’s wrist and pulled Zenitsu towards him, bringing his hand closer to his face. Inosuke smelled Zenitsu’s palm, the tip of his nose brushing against his skin and tracing a path from the inside of his wrist to the tip of his fingers, inhaling the entire way. The sensation made Zenitsu bite back any sound that came from his lips and his skin bristled above normal, tickling him.
What is he doi—
The rock against his foot still kept him from moving back properly, and having Inosuke like that, moving closer to his neck and smelling the curve of his left shoulder, it was starting to make Zenitsu convulse internally. He couldn’t take it anymore.
“You smell nice.” Inosuke’s voice sounded low and hoarse, dangerously close to his neck and please Gods help him because Zenitsu—
He couldn’t take it anymore!
Zenitsu forced himself to step aside as Inosuke released him slowly, taking advantage of that small gap so that Zenitsu could walk away from him entirely, his neck burning. He regained the dignity of his beloved personal space and wanted instantly to scream in the wind with pure embarrassment. But he didn’t, because the thousands of tickling on his skin made his hand tremble and Zenitsu held his own wrist. He stared down at it, already feeling his lower eyelid twitch.
He could still feel Inosuke’s nose brushing against his palm and inhaling the scent of the balm in his hand. Inhaling. Oh my God.
Zenitsu shot him a look filled with total disbelief, opening and closing his mouth like a fish before articulating the exact words. Inosuke was still looking at him curiously, as if he was completely and damn oblivious to Zenitsu’s internal struggle.
“Y-you get too close, Inosuke!” Zenitsu leveled the tremor in his voice, still shocked by what had just happened. “You should stop to think whether you’re bothering or not, idiot, idiot, idiot!”
Inosuke frowned at his thoughts, placing his hands on his hips. He locked gazes with Zenitsu as he approached him once again. Zenitsu seemed to be pinned in place, damn it. He blamed it on that look.
“I’m bothering you?” Inosuke asked after a few seconds, still curious.
Zenitsu went quiet. He struggled to want to answer YES, you are ALWAYS annoying, but his lips didn’t part to say it. His voice suddenly stuck in his throat. He grimaced, fighting and fighting for the expression he would put on his face, for the movement he would put in his body language. It was useless. Zenitsu couldn’t do anything. His eyes blinked past Inosuke, really awkward.
“Your face. It’s weird right now, Monitsu.” And Inosuke’s stupid smirk was back.
That made Zenitsu puff deeply and go back to being in all his senses.
“THIS,” Zenitsu gestured frantically around himself, “is what’s called my damn personal space.”
To prove his point, he didn’t hesitate to shorten the distance with Inosuke once again, despite the screams his skin gave not to do it again. Zenitsu ignored it for the moment and positioned himself right in front of his comrade, their noses almost touching, his heart almost dying. Zenitsu also ignored that.
They both stared at each other in the small silence that continued.
“Right now I’m in your personal space, Inosuke.” Zenitsu said, gently raising his hands. “In fact our personal spaces are now together. This bothers many people. It bothers you?”
“No.” Inosuke said it a little too fast, too serious.
Zenitsu’s cheeks tinged pink, blending into light red. His heart skipped a beat. Those sapphire eyes were staring deep into his own. He didn’t know if Inosuke was stubborn or if he really meant it.
“It doesn’t… bother you?” Zenitsu spoke quietly, hesitantly, disbelieving, blinking on Inosuke’s face. “I’m… practically…”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
Was all his answer.
Inosuke leaned closer, closing his eyes. Zenitsu remained still, standing, without being able—without wanting—to truly avoid Inosuke’s rough hand, wrapping his fingers around Zenitsu’s wrist to keep him close again. Inosuke’s face stopped near Zenitsu’s cheek and, there, he inhaled weakly once more. He felt the tickle of Inosuke’s breathing slowly down the angle of his jaw and Zenitsu gulped, suppressing the shudder that vibrated throughout his body. He realized that it wasn’t only the scent of the balm—Inosuke’s nose leaned into his hair, near and below his earlobe, a soft caress on his skin, a brush of lips—and Inosuke took a longer inhalation.
Zenitsu held his breath in his throat. The rhythm of his heartbeat shot with great speed, hammering his rib cage. His skin burned and his hands trembled nervously for not touching his comrade’s naked torso. He was going to die too soon if he didn’t breathe. He had to breathe. And just as he felt Inosuke’s warm breath hit the side of his neck, Zenitsu’s palms shot up to Inosuke’s chest and pulled him away from him as fast as possible, feeling slight resistance from the other.
Zenitsu released all the breath he had been holding, gasping. MOTHER OF GOD. BREATHE. BREATHE.
He ran his hands through his hair and lowered them to his neck, interlacing his fingers over the nape of his neck and bringing his elbows together, as a measure of protection. How could he have let Inosuke into his personal space just like that? The things… that he made him feel were… were…
Zenitsu stared at Inosuke, now with a prudent distance between their bodies, and noted highly embarrassed the pink color adorning Inosuke’s cheekbones. And yet, despite how cute he looked, Inosuke didn’t seem at all affected. His beautiful expression had softened, as if he had just smelled the scent of a bunch of flowers and not Zenitsu himself. That only made Zenitsu blush more.
Zenitsu turned around and groaned, starting to walk away. He didn’t even say a single word to Inosuke, but the stupid boar followed him immediately after he walked away.
“Where are you going, Monitsu?” He heard Inosuke behind him, a faint guttural sound bubbling up his throat.
“Back to the cabin with Tanjirou and Nezuko-chan.”
It didn’t give him a chance to react when he suddenly felt strong, shapely arms wrap around his waist. Zenitsu swallowed again at the sensation of Inosuke’s body close, his face close, resting his chin on Zenitsu’s good shoulder. His ears burned.
“I didn’t know you smelled that good.” Inosuke said in a low voice, close to his ear. Another shudder vibrated through his body and Zenitsu groaned under his breath in pure embarrassment, his cheeks scarlet.
A glance over his field of vision at Inosuke’s profile made his heart hum. Shit, Inosuke was handsome. Although he always annoyed Zenitsu, he was still what he was. Inosuke really was a beauty. Zenitsu was weak against the beauties, okay?? Too weak. He didn’t even care that Inosuke was a man to have kept him that close. Zenitsu was weak in the face of the beauties of life.
Zenitsu took a deep breath and gave in after a while. He thought he had given in long ago. Inosuke really didn’t understand what the limit implied in Zenitsu’s personal space, and he thought he would never understand it. But it didn’t matter. With Inosuke his personal space was meaningless. And no, of all beauties, it wasn’t a lady he allowed to approach him. Deep in his heart, he really didn’t mind.
Zenitsu was going to die in a totally different way around Inosuke, but he had already given in, and decided—with his heart pounding and his face burning—that he wouldn’t mind giving Inosuke more than his personal space.