Chapter Text
Safe to say, Inosuke was not a bird.
The sun had risen, kissing lush fields with a gold tinted promise of safety far past the sapphire petals dancing in its embrace.
The world was bright with its joy, light streaming through every window, glad to have survived yet another demon-littered night. Warmth enveloped the wild boy, wrapping around him and lulling him further into a blissful slumber. Or it would have, if it wasn’t for the rays flickering across his eyelids and demanding his attention. Inosuke growled, indignant. Wasn’t he allowed to rest in peace? Surely he deserved better treatment, he was the Great Inosuke!
But, having learned his lesson from not even a night before, Inosuke didn’t try to fall asleep again, well aware he wasn’t going to be able to slip back into his dreams anymore. Maybe he could fight the sunbeam that woke him. He could definitely take it, being the best fighter in the world and all. Laying there, an exhausted heaviness tying him to the ground, the thought became more tempting with each passing second.
And then the heaviness snored.
“Hah?” ever eloquent, Inosuke was.
Necking pressing in on itself, the duel-wielder looked down his nose, vision blurring where it reached a ball of fuzz the color of rust. He tried to get a better angle but, well. The position he managed to drift off in certainly wasn’t helping.
Somehow he had dozed off on the cold floor, back pressed awkwardly into the wall behind him, when his futon lay perfectly good in front of him, barely used. And it wouldn’t have been odd, should this occurred a few months prior. No one would expect a boy fresh from the mountains’ wilderness to use a bed when all he was used to were cool burrows. But now, having lived in “society” for a while, even Inosuke had to admit that the flat bedding was comfier than the unforgiving ground.
Inosuke grumbled to himself, moving to push himself up to at least see the thing on his chest properly –the damn thing was snoring away while he suffered the burden of consciousness– only, one of his arms remained bound; the same weight that kept him captive wrapped around it like a blanket.
It had his arm.
Is it trying to conquer me? Hah! Like it could surpass the Great Inosuke! Inosuke chortled to himself, amused by the lowly creature, it's asleep anyway. I don’t think it’s very good at this.
Using his free hand, he pressed his palm to the cool wood below him to help him sit up. Whatever it was on his torso fell to his lap, limb still in its clutches, entirely unphased by the change.
Inosuke had almost batted it away then and there, senses finally catching up to him, when the figure came into focus. There lay Tanjiro, hugging his arm close to his chest, looking more peaceful than Inosuke had seen him for a long time. Startled, Inosuke couldn’t help but feel like this was a much kinder version of deja vu. Memories of earlier that morning flooded back to him, his chest tightening at the lingering image of his friend, small and frail, and at the mercy of an agony he released solely in the cover of silver confines. It didn’t suit him at all, Tanjiro was strong and unwavering. From there on out, the wild boy never wanted to see the redhead crying in the moon’s glow ever again.
Tanjiro looks prettier with the sunlight in his hair anyway, he thought dimly.
A Child of Brightness. Inosuke had heard someone call Tanjiro that once. He didn’t really understand them at the time, walking off after he declared them an idiot and left it at that. Tanjiro didn’t glow, and contrary to popular belief he was quite dumb. Not that Inosuke minded, the redhead made up for it with unrelenting strength, compassion, and loyalty. He was the perfect minion regardless of how stupid he could be at times.
…Like when he thought it better to carry his burdens alone rather than seek his friends out for support.
Point aside, Inosuke may get what that person had meant now. Manta rays of light wove their way through glittering red waves and settled into fawny beaches, thick lashes that lay there shimmering up at him. Pink lips rested in a small, easy smile against the fabric of Inosuke’s stolen sleeve, parted slightly to let out contented sighs. Every inch of Tanjiro’s serene form poured out a radiance that almost blinded him, at one with the brilliance as if he were its home. It left Inosuke speechless.
The rustle of thin fabric sounded off to the pair’s right, but the movement did nothing to move Inosuke’s gaze. Tanjiro had faint little dots dappling his cheeks and the idea of connecting them all with those strange sap-covered sticks had Inosuke enraptured. Who cared if he missed Zenitsu fumbling with the consequences of his incompetence just this once? It would happen again soon enough.
Watch , he thought, 3…2…1…
On cue, a thud followed a high-pitched yelp, groans sprouting from where the lightning-user's face introduced itself to the flooring. Inosuke side-eyed him, refusing to turn away from the arm thief.
A few seconds later Zenitsu had crawled back up, rubbing his nose and muttering away about how the gods had it out for him. Inosuke was pretty sure he was just a half-baked lemon and voiced as much.
Another scandalized yelp, and then, “Well excuse me, Mr. Breath of the Wi– …why are you petting Tanjiro?”
“Hah?” sputtered the boar, “I am not–”
Zenitsu cut him off with a raised hand and used it to point down at his lap. Inosuke’s eyes followed, and, sure enough, his free hand had tangled itself in soft tufts of hair. Huh. When did that happen?
Inosuke snatched his hand away as if the fiery locks were actual flames. The warmth high on his cheeks made him wonder if they were, “You need to get your eyes checked, Kentatsu!”
“It’s Zenitsu!” shrieked the blond, “you know that!”
“Whatever! Just shut up!” Inosuke yelled back, cupping his hand over Tanjiro’s exposed ear, “He’s asleep!”
Zenitsu’s mouth fell shut and his stance grew rigid, stunned, while his gaze darted around his two companions. Inosuke glared back at him in a moment of precious, whine-free silence before the yellow-clad Slayer seemed to realize something. He pulled a disgusted face, eyes squinty and lips pulled taut, “Man, you guys are weird .”
“What?! I’m weird? You’re the one who crawled on top of Mezuko’s box in your sleep, not me!”
“First of all, we don’t talk about that. Second, he’s cuddling your arm like it’s a teddy bear and you’re being soft ,” Inosuke gave an offended gasp at the accusation.
“I am not soft ! I’m the Great Inosuke, I’m stronger than all three of you idiots combined!”
“Okay, but he’s still sleeping in your lap and you’re letting him.”
Inosuke paused at that, expression dimming as he watched Tanjiro’s chest rise and fall, peaceful as it should have always been that morning.
“He’s exhausted. And I’m not that heartless, he needs this,” he said, thinking back to the way the redhead melted under his touch.
“Oh yeah. I heard you guys last night, y’know,” Zenitsu shuffled over, tentatively sitting next to them with legs crossed as he leaned over to anxiously examine the sleeping boy’s face, “you think Tanjiro will be okay?”
“Of course he will!” The boar boasted, snapping out of his memories so quickly it caused him to jostle the water-breather a bit, “Monjiro is my number one ‘cause he’s strong! Plus, he’s got the Great Inosuke, and if he has the Great Inosuke, nothin’ can hurt him! All he needs now is to train really hard!”
Inosuke nodded confidently to himself, Tanjiro wouldn’t be so upset anymore if he was awesome enough to protect everybody. Inosuke could share his best training routines and push him past his limits! Surely that would help him use his hinoshami dance thing or whatever and then he’d be untouchable on a battlefield!
“And rest!” chimed Zenitsu, cutting through his genius.
…That was true too, he supposed. Inosuke could definitely cover for his underling when he was tired.
But, as if sensing the lightning-user's words, Tanjiro began to stir.
The effect was instantaneous. An immediate hush fell on the room, Inosuke and Zenitsu staring at the fussy boy with wide eyes.
They made quite a sight of a freshly awake Nezuko, who watched them silently from her box. The two were waving their hands (which, where was Inosuke’s other one? Last she saw he still had two) around, communicating in frantic gestures over her brother and throwing panicked glances between each other like they were playing hot potato.
Of course, Nezuko knew how the elder Kamado ran himself to the ground without pause. She knew just how determined he was to cure her, having bore more witness to the selfless behavior than anyone, time and time again. Nezuko knew how he, like her and their late mother had once, always gave up his own needs in the name of providing for his loved ones. Because of that, paired with her recent turning, her older brother tended to forget his limits and neglect his aching body.
So the young demon understood. Really, she did. Knowing that Tanjiro had found people who cared for the redhead and fought to make him do the same warmed her heart, she just didn’t get why they fretted so much. When her brother crashed, he was often a challenge to wake before his body had it’s say.
Fuzzy and distant in her memory, Nezuko could recall snow piled taller than her entirety and more flurrying down from rolling grey clouds that melted around a warm fire. She could barely grasp the panic she had felt then when a body cloaked in blankets and its usual haori refused to stir under her nudges, a faint voice telling her that her older brother would be fine if he allowed his body time to recover with a soft chuckle. Now, it was no surprise to Nezuko when all Tanjiro did was snuggle closer to Inosuke’s missing hand (so that’s where it went) with a content hum before settling again. She couldn’t help but giggle from behind her muzzle. What silly boys .
Her muffled squeaks had gotten the boys’ attention, both whipping around with fingers to their lips, ready to shush her. They seemed to have realized that Tanjiro hadn’t roused though, turning a rosy shade of pink before the sound could be hissed through their teeth. Both boys looked away from her, arms crossed and pride wounded.
Ego smarting, Inosuke wanted to be mad at the younger Kamado, to defend his honor. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, declare himself bored and demand they go train or eat tempura. It made his skin crawl that all he felt was relief knowing that Tanjiro hadn’t been disturbed when usually it was Inosuke who woke the water-breather up like a crude alarm clock, rearing for a battle and praise at all times. His mind refused to remain stagnant and his body demanded the fast paced rush of victory, always overrun by the need to do something.
He was normally so impatient, so why did he want to stay here and never leave?
His thoughts were beginning to spark up conflicts that made his head dizzy, stuffy confusion warring with the fuzzy warmth into cotton that sat uncomfortable in his stomach. It made his stomach lurch, like he had missed a stair, but in a giddy way? He didn’t know what to make of it, if he wanted the feeling to stay.
He really wished he had his mask on when Zenitsu yelped out a shrill “Huh?! Inosuke you’re blushing!”
“Shut it, Chuitsu!”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Inosuke hadn’t noticed when Tanjiro woke an hour later –still locked deep in a fierce, whispered squabble with Zenitsu– and was nearly knocked unconscious when the boy had rocketed up from the pillow he had made of his friend.
His face was flushed and his hair was ruffled from Inosuke idly playing with it, rushing about in a frenzied flurry of motion compared to his friends, who sat in shocked silence as they watched him. Tanjiro was a morning person, sure, but he was never this energetic, needing two minutes to reboot before he was on his feet each morning. Inosuke cocked his head, absolutely bewildered, while Zenitsu snickered away next to him.
“Gee, Tanjiro, there’s no need to be so flustered!”
But he steadily ignored the blond, patted Nezuko’s box and told them that they would be late for breakfast if they didn’t get ready soon. Zenitsu cackled harder at his quick, high-pitched mumble of “Are you guys coming?” when they failed to get up and follow his lead. The blush still visible from where Tanjiro turned away from them had deepened at the sound.
He stood there for a half-second, shoulders tense, and suddenly the lighten-user’s manic laughter had been cut short by a curt pillow to the face.
Inosuke's stomach had hurt from laughing long after they took to the sunny hallways of the Wisteria House. He could barely hear the cheerful birdsong sung from swaying branches over the sound of his companions chattering next to him, discussing training plans and where their next mission might take the trio while Zenitsu gushed about the pretty girls he could win over, but he didn’t really mind. The smell of mouth watering tempura filled the air and made his stomach grumble with a new pain. It practically called his name, taunting him as he grabbed Tanjiro’s hand and barreled through the corridor.
Tanjiro’s alarmed squeak was drowned out by Zenitsu’s loud protests, feet thundering on the worn panels as he struggled to keep up. He almost knocked them all over where them stood in the doorway, frozen at the sight of wooden tables covered by delicious, steaming spread of food set out in front of them and waiting to be dug into. Inosuke could barely keep himself from snatching it all and shoveling it into his mouth. Just as he was about to, arms raised to take off his mask and pounce on the mountain of juicy, fried shrimp and glistening fruits, he felt something tap his shoulder.
His growl died in his throat, however, when he met Tanjiro’s apologetic gaze.
“Sorry for falling asleep on you Inosuke,” Tanjiro retracted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding him with a bashful smile, “I bet it wasn’t comfortable.”
Inosuke stared at him, bewildered, and then rolled his eyes though no one could see it. His skull really is thick , he thought, hitting the back of his head with a light pof . “Stop apologizing for stupid stuff, I was plenty comfy. Plus, I’m always happy to be there for my underlings!”
Tanjiro looked up at him then and Inosuke was almost angry. The brief surprise sparkling in those cherry eyes made him wonder if the water-breather thought him incapable of common sense. Inosuke wasn’t dumb, it was only reasonable to stay with Tanjiro when he was upset! Who didn’t care for their friends, especially when they were having panic attacks? But …there was also something so sad about the way Tanjiro was constantly startled by simple kindness, Inosuke couldn’t find it in himself to stay mad. Tanjiro recovered quickly and gave him a grateful smile so gentle it chased off the bitter feelings, regardless.
The redhead always had that effect on the wild boy, he noticed, melting down his sharp reactions into a soft puddle of contentness.
“Thank you, Inosuke.”
And the boar bubbled up with pride. Tanjiro really was the best minion, forever grateful towards his awesome leader.
Zenitsu, not so much.
As soon as he noticed the two Slayers whispering between each other, all sappy smiles like lovestruck fools he began to snivel, his face crumpling into pathetic whimpering as he wailed to his friends that they were going to leave him behind for a nasty demon one day. Inosuke’s dandelion fluff shriveled and popped out of existence just watching the blond collect tears and snot on his cheeks just because Tanjiro was getting more attention. It’s not like he deserved it anyway.
“One of those terrible monsters could tear me apart in front of you and you guys won’t even notice ‘cause you’ll be making kissy faces at each other! You don’t care for me at all!!” the blond cried. Inosuke could see Tanjiro grimace as salty droplets dripped onto his rice from the corner of his eye.
Finally scarfing down his own food, Inosuke didn’t really get why. Food was food, it didn’t really matter what got on it if you could still eat it. Then again, Tanjiro has always been strange.
Instead of answering, Inosuke hurled his cup at the lightning-user and continued to inhale his breakfast. He was faintly aware of Tanjiro’s patient attempts at damage control as he calmed Zenitsu down, assuring him that he was valued in their team and in their friend group with soothing tones until the shrill cries aimed at the disinterested boar had tampered off. Satisfied, Tanjiro, too, tucked into his meal, picking up the same stream of conversation the two had going before Inosuke had so unceremoniously dragged them off between bites.
There wasn’t much that they haven’t seen anymore, what with the Demon Slayer Corps having them travel all over the place to slay various monsters spanning the whole country. Or at least, Inosuke thought so. How much more country could there be? They’ve seen steep mountains and grassy plains and cities with tall buildings and fancy, glittering windows. They’ve met people who revered them and those who had thrown them disgusted or fearful glances before skirting past. Though, if Inosuke was being honest, he was more prone to the latter than his companions, normal people simply couldn’t fathom his Greatness. Weak fools.
Zenitsu would argue that there was a whole lot more than what they have already encountered, that each place had pretty girls unlike any other, but really they all looked the same and hardly ever differed from one another. Inosuke would rather have food.
Hopefully the next demon had picked a town with amazing tempura or noodles, but if not, Inosuke could easily hunt or make shish kabobs out of the foolish crow that would whisk them away from the care of the Wisteria House. He could hear their insistent cawing then, making him grumble into his curry. God did he want to eat those damn birds, they never knew when to leave him alone.
Spoiler alert: it was always.
The wild boy was snagged from his musings by a cup being shoved into his line of sight which caused his hand to pause on it’s way to his mouth, a few chunks of carrots slipping loose with a wet squish when they hit the floor. Peering up from his remaining handful, Inosuke could see that Tanjiro had passed him his own drink. He tilted his head as he raised it and looked on as the water-breather continued to babble on to Zenitsu, seemingly unaware that he had even surrendered his cup until he noticed Inosuke watching him. He stopped and turned towards the boar, giving him a warm smile that made his breath hitch before going back to what he was telling Zenitsu.
Whatever the redhead was saying was lost on Inosuke though, too focused on the way his heart fluttered in his chest and the bit of rice that clung to slightly chapped lips as they formed Tanjiro’s muffled sentences.
The wild boy wanted to smack him burning cheeks when he caught himself wanting to lick the rice off himself. What was wrong with him?
Ripping his eyes away from Tanjiro and the weird feelings he made him feel, Inosuke crammed the rest of his food into his mouth and demanded they go train without bothering to swallow first, pointedly refusing to meet Tanjiro’s startled yet fond glance. Zenitsu made it easier to ignore the redhead when he squealed in disgust, fighting him all the way to the garden while wiping off sprayed crumbs from his face.
(Later, when they had all tired each other out, Inosuke would realize that he was right, a bruise had formed around Tanjiro’s mouth. A part of him wanted to rub the mark away himself, but he pushed both the urge and the stupid redhead off to the old lady and demanded she fix it.)