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“Tanjirou-nii, Tanjirou-nii! Kumo-san’s here again!”
Tanjirou turns to catch the little girl flying at him before he spins her around and smiles at her delighted giggle. “Is he now?”
“Yeah!” Yellow eyes sparkle up at him as one small finger points out the window. “Rokuta was climbing a tree an’ saw Kumo-san down the street, so he’s gonna be here soon!”
“I’m glad you and Rokuta are having fun… but what have I said about climbing trees?”
The little girl instantly plasters an innocent expression onto her face.
“Koume-chan…”
Koume wriggles in his arms, innocent expression abandoned in favour of growing panic, and Tanjirou sets her down before she can hurt herself. “Koume-chan —”
“Kumo-san’s at the gate I’m gonna go say hi to him bye Tanjirou-nii!”
Koume speeds out of the room, little legs pumping and pigtails streaming behind her. It’s not the first time she’s pulled a fast one on him and it wouldn’t be the last, but Tanjirou only laughs and dusts his hands against his pants. He’ll have plenty of time to impress the dangers of climbing trees upon them later — whether it sticks is out of his hands.
That’s a concern for another day though. For now, there is a guest for Tanjirou to invite inside properly.
Kumo Rui is dressed in the same outfit he always visits the homestead-slash-orphanage in — if Tanjirou hadn’t helped Rui with his laundry before, he would’ve thought Rui didn’t have other clothes to wear. There are muddy handprints on his snow-white yukata (courtesy of Shigeru’s enthusiastic request for hugs), but Tanjirou can only see fond exasperation in Rui’s eyes.
“Hello, Rui-san!” Tanjirou says as he lays out a pair of guest slippers. “I’m sorry about the mess — why don’t you come in and I’ll help you wipe those stains off your yukata?”
“I was making it look more alive,” Shigeru huffs. A mild look is enough to make him gulp and straighten his spine. “I’m sorry, Kumo-san! Nii-chan, I’ll take Koume-chan and go wash my hands right now!”
“Koume-chan, don’t think you’ve managed to fool me — and Shigeru, tell Rokuta he’s in big trouble when you see him!”
“You always threaten them, but they turn puppy-eyes on you and you cave straight away.”
Tanjirou gives Rui the betrayed look that comment deserves. Rui only smiles in his particular way that means he’s politely stifling his laughter, and bends to remove his shoes.
“How has the city been treating you?” Tanjirou asks when they’re both seated inside, though they’re by a window in case the children get up to mischief. “I heard from Shinobu-san that Giyuu-san offered to house-share with you?”
“Did she mention what she thought of his offer?”
Tanjirou shakes his head. Rui doesn’t look surprised — only amused and a little resigned, though Tanjirou only knows because his eyes are slightly upturned.
“If someone’s smile could say ‘I will skin you and eat your perfectly grilled flesh for dinner’, hers would.”
Tanjirou stares, then gulps. “I… wow, really?”
“Remember Kanao’s eighteenth birthday?” Rui smirks when Tanjirou’s face pales abruptly. “I think you get the idea.”
Zenitsu did too, and in a far more thorough fashion than Tanjirou’s or anyone else at the party. Now, even if Shinobu or Kanae aren’t hovering around Kanao (or employing whatever sixth sense they use to keep tabs on her), nobody tries to pull the moves on the youngest Kocho.
Shinobu’s overprotectiveness of her sisters is an undisputed fact, but her and Giyuu…?
“I didn’t think she lived with Giyuu-san though?”
Rui shrugs. “Maybe it’s my face. Maybe she likes Tomioka almost as much as she loves her sisters. Who knows with someone like her?”
Tanjirou smiles and nods, because — who really knows? It’s not like anyone has the skills (or the guts) to force Shinobu into being anything less than a smiling enigma.
Rui must think the same, because conversation soon shifts from Shinobu and Giyuu to the places Rui’s visited since they’d last met. He talks of places that barely seem real, public gardens filled with flowers Tanjirou’s never even heard of and a bamboo sea so vast that he can’t wrap his head around the size of it, and then he takes out a thin stack of photographs that he spreads across the table.
The first thing Tanjirou notices is that Nezuko, surprisingly, is in some of them. The second is that there is only one of Rui himself, but it is an image so breath-taking that Tanjirou can’t look away.
Whoever took the photo was clearly not a professional, or even that familiar with a camera. Rui is slightly out of focus, but his customary yukata still manages to stand out in all the white lilies he’s ankle-deep in. Perhaps it’s the way the rays of the setting sun fall on him. Perhaps it’s the wind that has caused the lilies to bend, but not Rui himself.
Or perhaps it’s the slight smile on his face as he looks down at whatever he’s holding, white lashes lowered in a way that makes Tanjirou’s heartbeat pick up. Rui looks innocent in a way that’s different from Nezuko — there’s an abstinence to him that makes him seem as untouchable as the first time they’d met.
(Except Tanjirou wonders, sometimes, if they had met in a past life. Rui is one of the few whose scent Tanjirou can’t decipher, but there is an undertone to it that almost feels like sorrow or regret — as though he’s wronged Tanjirou in a way Tanjirou himself doesn’t understand. He rarely had the opportunity to smell Rui when he’s not in the homestead-slash-orphanage, and the closest he’s come is whenever Rui goes for a stroll and Tanjirou chances upon him, but he thinks that undertone to Rui’s scent is a little less when Tanjirou’s not around.
He hopes he’s not the one that makes Rui feel sad or guilty. He hopes that Rui’s happier when he’s here, cuddling Koume-chan when she demands hugs and playing with everyone else in Tanjirou’s blood-related and circumstance-related family.
He hopes that Rui knows he’s loved by many — platonically, romantically, unconditionally.
He wonders which category his love for Rui fits into, but it’s a question Tanjirou still can’t bring himself to answer.)
Tanjirou reaches for Rui’s photo, only for Rui to push all of Nezuko’s over. “She told me to give these to you — she would’ve sent them over, but she was scared the pigeon would accidentally tear them.”
Something that feels like disappointment forms in Tanjirou’s chest, but he wants Nezuko’s photos too. Why would he be disappointed that Rui would give them to him?
“Thank you, Rui-san!”
Rui nods and tucks his hands back into his sleeves. Tanjirou can’t see the expression in his eyes, not with the way his lashes are lowered, but there’s no hiding the subtle shift in his scent — a change that feels darker, like he hadn’t wanted to hand over Nezuko’s photos.
“Are you all right?” Tanjirou blurts.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Tanjirou frowns, casting about for the right words. He’d take it back, but Rui’s taken the trouble to look up and meet his eyes. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I feel like… you’re upset? About Nezuko’s photos, or something related to them. You’re more than welcome to keep some of these, you know — I have albums full of Nezuko’s photos, and I’m sure she’d like you to have something of hers too.”
It is, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Whatever’s off about Rui’s scent gets stronger, and Tanjirou can see something a little gloomy in Rui’s eyes.
Is he… is he jealous that I have so many of Nezuko’s photos?
“Come to think of it, Rui-san, I don’t think I ever showed you those photos!” Tanjirou jumps up, leaving Nezuko’s photos in a messy pile on the table, and makes for the door. “My parents tried to take as many as they could whenever we went out as a family, so there’s a lot of my younger brothers and sisters too. I’ll be back in just a moment with them, all right?”
A pale hand shoots out and stops Tanjirou from sliding the door open. It leaves Tanjirou trapped between Rui and the thin paper door, with very little room to move forward or back.
“Rui-san?”
“Why are you running away?” Tanjirou feels his neck heating up when Rui leans in — he’s not close enough for his lips to brush against Tanjirou’s ear, but it’s still too close for comfort. “I thought you were braver than this.”
“Rui-san, I don’t get what you mean —”
“No, I think you do.”
Rui pulls back, leaving Tanjirou flushed and a little dazed. He doesn’t pull back too far though — only far enough to observe Tanjirou from the side while still being within reach of the door.
“Why do you think I turned down Tomioka’s offer?”
Tanjirou blinks. Of all the questions he’d expected Rui to ask, that hadn’t been one of them.
“Huh?”
“It’s not a hard question, Tanjirou — just say whatever you think is right.”
“It’s not because of Shinobu-san, is it?” Tanjirou frowns when Rui stays silent, but continues to rack his brain. There’s an obvious answer staring him in the face, but… “Isn’t it because you like being free?”
This time, Rui’s the one with a shocked look on his face, though Tanjirou would’ve never noticed if he hadn’t smelled his scent and seen his eyes widen fractionally. Emboldened, Tanjirou pushes on.
“I always feel like you’re looking for something you’ve lost, so you don’t want to stay anywhere for too long. Not that it’s a bad thing!” Tanjirou hurriedly adds, when Rui raises his eyebrows. “I respect your determination, if anything! I just think that, even if you weren’t more comfortable alone, you would want to be with people who you’re comfortable with…”
“And I’m not familiar with Tomioka,” Rui finishes for Tanjirou, gaze thoughtful.
“If it helps,” Tanjirou hesitantly offers, “you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.”
Tanjirou’s made the offer to Rui before — how could he not, when Rui meant as much to him as his family and his friends? Rui’s his friend, even if Rui himself might not feel the same way, and he does more than Tanjirou ever asks of him whenever he stays.
Something about this offer makes Rui’s eyes widen, though his voice is as cold and soft as ever when he asks, “Even if I end up living here?”
“You’d still be welcome! Don’t you help watch everyone when I’m busy?” Tanjirou laughs and looks away from Rui’s increasingly disbelieving expression. “You’ve donated so much time and money to this old house — it’d be ungrateful of me to say you couldn’t settle down here.”
“You make it sound like it’d be a favour.”
You make it sound like you don’t want me here.
The thought leaps into Tanjirou’s mind, for all that Rui didn’t say anything along those lines, but it’s the mingled sorrow and hope he smells that makes Tanjirou look back at Rui. He doesn’t know why the emotions are so clear when they never were, before. All he knows is that Rui wants to stay, and something about that knowledge is making Tanjirou’s stomach somersault.
It’s the reason why Tanjirou breathes deeply and says something he would’ve never said, if things were different. “I’d love to have another person join our family. I’m sure Koume-chan would be over the moon, but — Rui-san, my family and home will always be open to you. Not because of pity or because I’m repaying you, but because you’re you.”
“You mean that,” Rui says wonderingly. “You… really mean that.”
Tanjirou blinks when Rui lowers his head. Rui’s hands are curled into fists and shaking visibly in a way that worries Tanjirou — until Rui looks up with tears shining in his eyes.
“I’ve always wanted family. All this time, I…” Rui wipes his eyes and clears his throat softly. “You won’t be able to get rid of me after this, you know. I’ll always be part of your family now.”
Something about Rui’s words makes Tanjirou’s heart skip a beat, but he’s too busy stepping forward to hug Rui. After a moment, Rui loosens his hands and hugs back too — he stays silent, and Tanjirou doesn’t comment on the wetness seeping into his yukata in deference to that.
It’s only when they separate that Tanjirou says, “Welcome home, Rui.”
“It’s good to be home,” Rui whispers, and there is only contentment is his voice and his scent.