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Nezuko likes Hinamatsuri.
She likes waking up in the morning and seeing the dolls all set up. When she was younger, she used to sit by the dais and watch all the decorated dolls. Waiting. She used to think they would get up and dance.
Nezuko is ten years old now and she knows better.
She knows dolls don't come to life to hold court sessions. The emperor and empress dolls are just dolls; they rule over a court that doesn't move. They hold food that can't be eaten. They're just objects, not tiny creatures with a hidden story.
Nezuko is ten years old, and this is her last Hinamatsuri.
She thought it would be bittersweet, like the tara no me Niichan likes to eat. The greens are all bitter, until you get to the white centre that's just a little bit sweeter than the rest. Still bitter, but Niichan always looks happy when it's on the table. She's glad Kaasan showed her where they grew best.
Instead, Nezuko finds herself too busy with her younger siblings to worry about things like growing too old. Hanako and Shigeru tug at her hands, already looking forward to all the festivities available.
Hinamatsuri is typically celebrated at home, but not in Okutama. Sometimes, it feels like the entire village is one big family. Even up in the mountains, they can feel the warmth of the village. Maybe it was because they're coal burners. They supply the village with warmth, so it's only appropriate for the village to give it back.
“Hanako!”
The squeal is both sudden and expected. Hanako jolts forward, her hand almost slipping out of Nezuko's grasp. The elder tightens her grip, but affords enough leeway so the two girls can crash into one another.
Nezuko can't help her smile – equal parts fond and exasperated. Hanako must feel lonely; she's bracketed by two brothers, and Nezuko is four years older than her. Higuchi Misaki is the only one her age.
It's a shame the Higuchis live so far away. Hanako would love to have more play dates with Misaki.
“Misaki!” Hanako laughs, embracing her friend tightly. “I missed you!”
“Misaki,” a fond sigh winds through the air, “I told you not to run off.”
“Neechan, Neechan, it's Hanako!” Misaki says brightly, twirling Hanako around. Nezuko’s little sister lets out a surprised laugh as her feet leave the ground.
Higuchi Ayame sighs, but a gentle smile curves her lips. She's only a year older than Nezuko, but she seems so much more mature. Her obi is immaculate, her taiko musubi still straight despite running after her little sisters all day. Wispy curls of black hair frame her face, calling attention to vibrant blue eyes that sparkle in the mid-afternoon sunlight. The seigaiha on her lavender haori is subtle, but you can see it when you're looking for it.
Ichimatsu for the Kamados, seigaiha for the Higuchis. That's how it's always been.
“Nezuko. Tanjirou-san.” The blacksmith's daughter offers a polite bow to Niichan. “Just you two today?”
Niichan returns her bow, then smiles politely. It doesn't reach his eyes. “Ah. Tousan and Kaasan are staying home with Rokuta. He's not feeling too well.”
More Tousan than Rokuta. Their littlest brother is down with a spring cold, of course, but Tousan's breaths had rattled when he woke up this morning. The last thing he needed was to make the trip down the mountain only to mind a handful of small children. That's what his eldest children are for.
Ayame-san's lips form a concerned frown. “I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he feels better soon.”
Nezuko smiles. Ayame-san had said he, but she was talking about Tousan too.
“Oneechan, I wanna go goldfish scooping,” Higuchi Hanako whines, tugging at her older sister's kimono.
Misaki's eyes widen. “Oh! Me too, me too! Hanako, wanna go together?”
Hanako turns to Nezuko and Niichan, eyes widening pathetically. Niichan laughs – as if he could ever say no to his younger siblings.
“I don't see why not,” says Niichan. “Let's see if we can find Takeo and Shigeru too!”
“I'll go with you,” Nezuko says, but Niichan shakes his head.
“Enjoy yourself!” he urges. “It's Hinamatsuri.”
Girls' Day. Nezuko is very nearly not a girl anymore. By next year, she'll be too old to celebrate.
Ayame-san smiles. “We can handle it, Nezuko. Your niichan is right.”
“You should relax too,” another voice interjects.
Higuchi Akihiko is handsome, Nezuko supposes. He's fourteen, with blue eyes and shaggy black hair that curls along his shoulders. It's long enough to be pulled into a ponytail, but he leaves it loose. There's a reason they call him one of the princes of Okutama – and it isn't just because of his name.
And, well. If Higuchi Akihiko is a prince, then that probably makes Ayame-san a princess. The brother and sister duo share the same looks, which means they turn the same number of heads.
Nezuko knows she isn't ugly, but sometimes she can't help but admire the striking figures Akihiko-san and Ayame-san make. It makes her wish she looked a little more like Niichan – maybe the same eyes, or the same hair. (They share the same smile, but that's hardly anything. They're raised in a family that could subsist on smiles.) She thinks it might be nice to be a reflection of Niichan, sometimes. He works so hard for them. Especially now that Tousan's sick days are becoming more frequent.
“What are you talking about?” Ayame-san sighs, exasperated. “You can't handle everyone on your own.”
“But I won't be alone,” argues Akihiko-san. “Tanjirou-chan is gonna help me, right?”
Niichan jolts. “Ah – er, yes! We can handle it!”
Nezuko shares a look with Ayame-san. She's pretty sure the sceptical look on the elder's face is the same one on hers.
Nezuko adores her brother. He's kind and thoughtful, and his smile is enough to brighten anyone's day. But Niichan is barely used to dealing with four kids – since he's usually out working – so seven kids between the two of them seems a bit much.
No, it's definitely too much.
Ayame-san knows this, so she shakes her head and says, “I'll go with you – ”
“Hime.”
The pout on Ayame-san's lips is surprisingly cute. She turns her nose up at her brother, but there was mirth twinkling in her eyes.
“Don't let go of Kiku,” Ayame-san orders. “She'll get into trouble. And make sure Harumi doesn't wander off either. Misaki will follow, then Hanako will too.”
Akihiko-san waves a hand flippantly. “Yare, Aya-hime, it's like I've never looked after my little sisters before. I remember you being a little hellion at Misaki's age. Used to lose you at the festivals all the time.”
“That has nothing to do with me, Niichan.” That's on you, Ayame-san says with a smirk.
Nezuko smothers a giggle into her hand.
Their relationship is very different from the one she shares with Niichan. They toss barbed words at each other, but it's always with a smile. If Nezuko ever thought a mean word, even in jest, about Niichan, she'd feel guilty. Niichan might even tear up. He's very soft under all that reliable big brother armour.
Niichan turns to Nezuko with a concerned frown. “You relax too, okay?” he says sternly. “It's Hinamatsuri, after all!”
“I will, Niichan.”
She isn't the only one to stare worriedly after the pair of older brothers. Four children are a lot, but seven…
Ayame-san sighs. “We won't have much time to ourselves,” she says ruefully.
Nezuko nods. Someone will end up crying, soon enough – with the kind of sorrow only a Neechan can soothe. She loves her family, loves that they can rely on her, but this is her last Hinamatsuri, and she'd like to enjoy it.
Ayame-san reaches into her sleeve and pulls out a seigaiha-patterned handkerchief. It unfurls and reveals –
“Sakura mochi!” Nezuko exclaims delightedly.
Kanto-style, a pink rectangle wrapped in a pickled sakura leaf.
Ayame-san chuckles. “Fubuki-oba-san gave them to me. I thought you might like some. It's Hinamatsuri, after all.”
Nezuko takes one and bites into it immediately. Saltiness and sweetness burst on her tongue; Fubuki-oba-san makes the best mochi, but it sells out fast. They never make it down early enough to buy any, but Ayame-san always manages to save some for her.
The older girl smiles, eyes crinkling into crescents. “Harumi and Misaki always peel the sakura leaf off.”
Nezuko usually does too, but Ayame-san doesn't, so she follows her. It's not terrible, and it always reminds her of spring festivals.
They end up wandering the streets, Ayame-san taking Nezuko's hand absently. Nezuko has four younger siblings, so she understands the urge to keep a hand in hers. She's never really been on the receiving end like this – has never known what it was like to have an older sister.
Nezuko adores Niichan. But she thinks she'd have liked a neechan too.
Ayame-san's hand is rough. So is Nezuko's, but hers is from doing the laundry and helping in the kitchen. Ayame-san has all that too, but she also has callouses and raised bumps from working in the forge.
Nezuko wonders what her life would be like if Niichan was more like Akihiko-san. Would she have to take up the family business too? Would she have to go into the woods to chop wood, stand in front of the kiln for hours on end to watch the wood turn to charcoal?
She can't imagine that. Niichan is reliable; he wouldn't leave Okutama for anything.
She thinks Akihiko-san is handsome, but not very reliable. Not if he's leaving the burden of the forge on his younger sister. Ayame-san is strong, but even she needs support sometimes.
Nezuko squeezes Ayame-san's hand.
Ayame-san squeezes back, an absent-minded smile on her lips. It's a very onee-sama type smile; Nezuko can see why she's so adored by her younger sisters.
“Where're your parents?” Nezuko asks curiously.
The Higuchi family has always been a unit. It's unlikely to find a Higuchi in solitude; Ayame-san is constantly surrounded by her sisters, the matriarch and patriarch rarely wander about town without someone in tow.
Ayame-san smiles. “Oh, here and there, I think. Niichan and I told them to leave the girls to us.”
Ah. Not unlike what Nezuko had said to Tousan and Kaasan this morning. She thinks they're happier like that, even with Tousan's illness. Their love has always been quiet. Not quite hidden, but the kind that's easy to overlook. The burning embers of good charcoal.
In contrast, Junhiko-san and Hanabi-san are like fireworks in the summertime. Even at a glance, you can tell they love each other. It's bright and it's loud and you don't want to look away. Or maybe it’s because you can’t look away. (Nezuko thinks she wants that for herself, one day.)
“It's nice,” offers Nezuko.
Ayame-san hums. “It is, isn't it?”
Eventually, the relaxation comes to an end.
They come across a big group of children. Their big group of children. Shigeru is in Akihiko-san's arms, wailing at the top of his lungs as fat tears slip down his ruddy cheeks. Higuchi Kiku is struggling in Niichan's arms, trying to get back to her brother. Takeo stands frozen in the street, eyes darting between Akihiko-san and Niichan. Ayame's oldest little sister, Harumi, is tugging at Akihiko-san's haori impatiently. Misaki, on the other side, is doing the same. The two Hanakos are the only ones who are calm, but that might be due to the taiyaki they're not supposed to be eating. They won't be able to finish their lunch like that.
“Niichan,” Nezuko and Ayame-san sigh.
Akihiko-san turns to them with manic eyes. “I'm trying my best here!”
Niichan grimaces. “Nezuko…” There's a hint of sorrow in his tone.
That's alright. Niichan is always trying to pull too much weight by himself. That's how he hurt his back last winter. Nezuko is the eldest daughter, so it's her duty to help him bear some of that weight.
She holds her arms out for Shigeru. He reaches for her pitifully. Akihiko-san deposits him in her arms with a muttered apology, rubbing the back of his head.
“Hana-chan, give it here,” Ayame-san says sternly.
Higuchi Hanako pouts, but deposits the half-eaten treat into her older sister's hands anyway. With a gesture that's both awe-inspiring and terrifying, she pulls Kiku into her arms and hands the half-eaten taiyaki to Akihiko-san.
“It's almost time to meet up with Touchan and Kaachan,” says Ayame-san.
It's a shame. Nezuko would have liked spending time with Ayame-san (who's the closest thing to a neechan that she has), but it's time for them to head to the river to send the paper dolls down the water. Then, they have to make the trek up Mount Kumotori.
“Thank you,” she says sincerely.
Ayame-san smiles. Niichan ducks his head and looks away.
“I had fun,” says the older girl. “Next year, I'll teach you all the things I do now that I'm too old, okay?”
That's right. Next year, Nezuko will be eleven and no longer a girl.
It's a sad thought, but Nezuko still finds it in her to smile. “I'd like that very much.”
They're half-way up the mountain when Niichan turns to her and asks, “Did you have fun with your friend?”
Nezuko blinks.
Ah, she supposes that's true. Ayame-san is her friend.
It's a strange thought. Nezuko lives so far away from the village that she doesn't have time to make friends.
She nods slowly. “Yes, I did.” Surprisingly enough.
She thought her last Hinamatsuri would be bittersweet, but it's sweet and salty instead. Like sakura mochi and girlish giggles over nothing.
“That's nice! I'm glad you had fun!”
There's an apology in there, but Nezuko won't stand for it. There's nothing to apologise for. She loves her family and that includes all the trouble they bring.
“We have fun too, Niichan.” She readjusts a sleeping Shigeru on her shoulder. Hanako is already fast asleep, drooling onto Niichan’s shoulder. Takeo's feet are starting to drag, so it won't be long before he'll end up on Niichan's back. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“Thanks for putting up with me!”
Putting up with him? No, no. Nezuko isn't putting up with Niichan. She's standing next to him, trying her best to help him even when he refuses it.
She smiles. “Nothing to thank me for. You're my Niichan.”
I love you shouldn’t have to be said between them. It’s all in the smiles.