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"Oh."
The exclamation left Ayame's lips, almost punched out of her.
They were all more or less recovered, so they had offered to run some errands for Hisa-san. Sure, she had helpers to aid her, but the fact was that she was one old woman running a Wisteria House all by herself. She was already offering them food, medical treatment and board without payment. This was the least they could do to pay back some of the hospitality she had afforded them.
But she hadn't expected a festival.
Haphazard stalls lined the main street, children running around in vibrant kimonos. The youths were all dressed up as well, which made Ayame feel a little underdressed. Her uniform and haori was suitable for slaying onis, not attending a festival.
She didn't know what it was. They weren't in the sleepy, close-knit village that the Wisteria House resided in; Hisa-san needed some herbs and other hard-to-get ingredients, so they made their way to a bigger town.
The sakura trees were in full blossom, pink petals floating in the wind. Tanjirou let out a pleased sound, nose upturned. The scent of sakura must be distinct to his nose.
"Hanami?" Zenitsu said hesitantly.
Well, the sakura were certainly in bloom. But the locals weren't sitting down to admire the short-lived blossoms. They were flitting amongst booths, chattering excitedly and just… living their lives.
What an oddly normal scene.
"What's that?" Inosuke demanded, pointing at a game booth.
Oh. Goldfish scooping. Ayame was reminded of festivals back in Okutama, her sisters breaking poi after poi in an attempt to scoop up the wriggling goldfish. Oniichan was the only one who ever had any luck, but the fish hadn't lasted long. It died about a week before they got the news.
She wondered if maybe that fish had been tied to Oniichan's lifeline.
"It's a difficult game," she said mildly. "We could go to the shooting gallery instead – "
Inosuke harrumphed, turning his head away. "I want to try that!"
"Inosuke. Goldfish scooping isn't something you can brute force your way into – "
"I'm going!"
The boar rushed off before Ayame could grab hold of him. Damn! He was stupidly fast when he put his mind to it, which was why his headlong rush succeeded more often than not.
Inosuke loomed over the various little children playing the game, head whipping about wildly. Ayame grabbed his arm, struggling to keep him by her side. The last thing she wanted to do was lose him in the middle of a busy town.
"We can let him play a couple games," conceded Tanjirou.
Ayame sighed. "He's going to get mad." Inosuke wasn't someone who was used to losing. He might end up scolding the game master. Or try to fight him.
"It's just a game," Tanjirou insisted. He was smiling that benevolent onii-sama smile, which was always hard to argue against.
Ayame sighed once more. "Fine. But if he tries to fight the game master, it's on you."
She didn't think it was an if; more of a when, but it wouldn't be her problem. She refused to make it so. Tanjirou and Zenitsu could handle it while Ayame pretended she didn't know them.
(She could think that, but she knew she'd be right next to them the whole time. They were hopeless without her.)
It was… nostalgic.
Ayame didn't know what festival they were celebrating, but it didn't matter. The stalls of food and games were familiar. So was the throng of people dressed to the nines. She dodged a group of children careening past, gaze following them fondly as laughter filled the air.
When was the last time she had gone to a festival with her family? With her whole family?
It was a little hard to remember. It must have been four – no, five years ago. Back in Okutama. Oniichan couldn't have been a Demon Slayer for more than a year; he'd said something about celebrating a promotion, but he didn't mention his rank. It wasn't important at the time.
She turned her gaze back to Inosuke. The poi looked ridiculously small in his hands. He was bracketed on either side by children that couldn't be more than ten years old. The adults eyed him warily, but the children paid no attention to him. They were too intent on their own paper nets, trying to catch a fish to bring home.
Inosuke stared at the pool for a long moment. He didn't move, didn't twitch. If it wasn't for the rise and fall of his chest, she wouldn't have known he was a living being.
Ah. It was best to stay still and quiet when fishing. Goldfish scooping wasn't any different –
"GRAH!"
Splash!
"Gah, it broke!"
Cries filtered into the air.
"Kaachaaaannnn!" several children wailed.
Half of the tub was on the ground, fish flopping about pathetically.
Ayame dropped her head into her hands.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" cried Tanjirou as he hauled a furious Inosuke onto his feet. "I'm so sorry!"
"I was scammed!" Inosuke insisted. "Let me fight him!"
Zenitsu let out an aggravated screech. "That's how goldfish scooping works, moron! Don't blame the tool when you're the problem."
"Huh? Say that to my face, Jonantsu. I dare you!"
"Don't – fight," Tanjirou grunted, switching his hold to prevent Inosuke from lunging at Zenitsu. "We're in public!"
"Ayame-chan," Zenitsu wailed, "Inosuke's being mean to me! Do something!"
Why? Why her? Ayame had been good, hadn't she? She listened to her parents, she looked after her little sisters. She prayed on prayer days and left offerings when she could.
"Ayame-chan!"
"Tokane!"
"Ayame…"
"Tempura," she said suddenly, finally finding the strength to lift her head. "There's tempura here, Inosuke. And I think there was some grilled unagi that way too."
Inosuke stilled. His snout twitched (how did he do that?) and his head swivelled.
"Tempura!" he exclaimed and ran off.
Tanjirou, still clinging to Inosuke, was dragged away without resistance. The squawk he let out was funny, especially when his feet left the ground in Inosuke's haste.
"I'm so sorry," Ayame sighed, lips pulled into a grimace. She bowed a full ninety degrees, digging out some cash to cover the devastation. And the emotional distress. "So sorry, oji-san. He's not used to big crowds."
The game master didn’t speak for a long moment. Ayame didn’t straighten, not until the money left her hands and the oji-san let out a grunt.
“Keep an eye on them,” he said gruffly, then turned away.
Well, that was as clear a dismissal as any. She offered him a half-hearted smile, grabbed Zenitsu and scurried away as fast as humanly possible (and for Demon Slayers, that was pretty fast).
“So embarrassing,” she sighed, shaking her head.
Zenitsu coughed.
When she turned to him, she could see his cheeks were bright red. Almost glowing, despite the afternoon sun.
“A-Ayame-chan,” he whispered giddily. “Since it’s just the two of us, is this a date – ?”
Ayame blinked. Her gaze dropped to her arm, still slung around his shoulders; she found that the easiest way to get someone to move was just to drag them.
She quickly released him, then slapped his back. Hard.
“Ow!” he yelped.
“No time for that,” she said briskly. “We need to find Tanjirou and Inosuke. Who knows what kind of trouble they’ll get up to without us?”
Granted, they could get into plenty of trouble even with them, but Tanjirou and Inosuke still made a pretty poor pair. Inosuke was brash and Tanjirou was too accommodating. It would be a miracle if the town was still left standing after they were done.
“Aw, Ayame-chan, can’t we take our time?” Zenitsu complained, feet dragging against the ground. “We could go look at the other games, or see if there are any shows – ”
“INOSUKE!”
As if on cue, Ayame and Zenitsu both smacked a hand to their faces.
“You’re right,” the blonde said grimly. “We need to find them right now.”
Somehow…
Somehow, they weren’t in jail and there weren’t any spontaneous fires started.
Tanjirou’s yell had been reflexive, after Inosuke picked him up and held him over his head. Apparently, the red-haired boy was walking too slowly. Not that Tanjirou had been walking at all; he was too busy trying to stop Inosuke in his mad hunt for tempura.
Ayame settled against the tree branch, reaching out to touch a sakura blossom. The petals were soft against her fingertips.
Inosuke cackled as he snatched another eggplant tempura from under Zenitsu’s nose. Zenitsu squawked, but he didn’t try to retaliate. Probably because he was too busy guarding his precious grilled unagi. He was surprisingly protective of it, taking small nibbles to savour the taste.
“There you are.”
Ayame tilted her head, offering a faint smile to her friend. Tanjirou carefully settled onto the branch right below hers, sighing to himself as he reclined against the trunk. He sniffed the air, a pleased smile curving his lips. He must really like sakura.
“Not going to join them?” she asked, gesturing to the two boys settled at the base of the tree.
Tanjirou grinned bashfully. “I’m not really that fond of tempura…”
Ayame bit back a smile. Tempura was her favourite, but even she couldn’t stomach the amount of fried food Inosuke could put away. She had eaten her fill and just… needed a moment to herself, she supposed.
“It’s the Sanno Festival,” she said. She could feel Tanjirou’s gaze on her, but she just tilted her head back to admire the sunlight filtering through the pink canopy. “That’s what I heard, anyway.”
It was also known as the Takayama Festival, which was held twice a year. They just happened to arrive right in the middle of the spring festival. Not early enough; they missed the shrine being carted around the town, as well as the first parade of floats. They could always stay to watch the next one, but Ayame was tired. She wanted nothing more than to head back to the Wisteria House and rest.
Tanjirou hummed. Fabric rustled as he shifted on the branch. Ayame didn’t turn her gaze away from the canopy, idly tracing a petal as it wound through the air. Ah, sakura season would be over soon enough. She’d missed Hanami completely. Again.
“Ayame, here.”
She turned, blinking at the wagashi in Tanjirou’s hand. It was pink and rectangular, with a pickled leaf around its middle.
Sakura mochi.
“I thought you might like it,” he said brightly. “You always go for the mochi first, when Hisa-san puts it out for tea.”
Ayame hesitated. She wondered if he knew it was something she used to share with Nezuko, when they were both different girls. When they were just girls.
It was just mochi.
She took it. The first bite was nostalgic. The chewy flour, with the barely sweetened red bean filling. The pickled sakura leaf was slightly salty, which was why it was one of her favourite spring treats. Hanako and Kiku always used to peel the leaves off.
“It’s good,” she commented absently.
Tanjirou smiled, then took a bite of his own mochi.
Things were completely different now. Ayame could never regain spring festivals with her family or share sakura mochi with Nezuko while giggling about nothing in particular. She couldn’t return to wandering the familiar streets of Okutama dressed in festival colours, weaving between people she had known her whole life. Those were just dreams, meant to be left behind as she continued forward on her path.
She let her leg swing freely and plucked a sakura from a branch in front of her. She twirled the stem between her fingers, then tucked the blossom behind her ear. Just like Oniichan used to.
Now wasn’t then, but that didn’t make it any less precious.
She still had fun, after all. If you could consider running around making sure Inosuke didn’t cause trouble as fun.
“This was a nice break,” she said softly. She wasn’t really speaking to Tanjirou, but he looked at her, nonetheless.
The corner of her lips twitched upwards; there were sakura petals in his hair. They blended in remarkably well, highlighting the deep burgundy of his hair. She reached over to brush them off, leaving a couple pats to the top of his head. He’d worked hard to control Inosuke today, after all.
“Oi,” he complained half-heartedly. “What’s that for?”
“Just because.” She let her eyes fall shut. For once, being up so high wasn’t terrifying. “It was pretty fun, going to a festival again. I’m glad we came.”
“... Yeah. Me too. I think I was starting to forget…”
Ayame knew what that was like. She might be the only one who understood.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
He didn’t have to say it. She knew.
“Still, this was pretty nice.” The strange tone in Tanjirou’s voice made her turn to him. He was looking down at Zenitsu and Inosuke, who were squabbling again. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a festival with friends before.”
“Me neither,” she confessed. “I was always busy with…” She cleared her throat. “Well, we should go to a summer festival. Shishou and I usually go to the nearby town for Tanabata.” And Obon, but that was different.
Tanjirou jerked, turning to Ayame with wide eyes. He stared long enough to make a little uncomfortable, before he eventually blinked.
“That… sounds nice!” He grinned. It was a little strange, but not in a melancholic way. It was hard to pin down. (It reminded her a little of Oniichan, the last time she saw him.) “Yeah, let’s go to another festival together. The four of us! We can bring Nezuko out too and watch the stars.”
“Un. Let’s go together.”