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S A T U R D A Y
Late Morning
Tanjiro awoke to the smells of cold food, a brewing snowstorm, sweat, soup, dirt, and a snotty nose. In the warmth of the futon, he dozed back off. His nose was clear, so he could also detect the scent of a fever…
“What is this mess!?”
He sat straight up at the sound of Nezuko’s voice, finding himself staring into the face of his formerly demon sister, who had her hands on her hips and looked like she might still fly into violence. Immediately after their eyes met, she raised her brows, and her jaw went slack.
“Nezuko!” he said, “What are you doing back already?”
“We wanted to beat the snow, so we left early this morning. What are you doing still in bed? I don’t know what’s going on here,” she looked to the futon, “but how did you two make the rest of this mess? How wasteful! There’s even dirt tracked in everywhere!”
Two?
That was right! There were two of them in that futon, the feverish smell had to have come from Zenitsu. Tanjiro whipped his glance over his shoulder to Zenitsu, who was flushed and dusty and had not stirred, even at what should had been the crystalline call of Nezuko’s voice. Tanjiro’s hand swiped under the yellow hair framing Zenitsu’s forehead, and then he drew it back from the heat. “Ah! That’s bad!”
Nezuko’s features softened. “Zenitsu-san is sick? You must had been busy taking care of him.”
“Uh—,” he looked between her and his ill bedmate, Zenitsu’s warning from the night before sending a chill back down his spine. Don’t tell her, Zenitsu had threatened him, so Tanjiro had to roll with it, however clumsily. “…Y…yeah…”
Nezuko was already looking away, taking a stir of the soup which had grown crusty against the sides of their big pot. “I still wish you wouldn’t had wasted food like this. We could had saved this to heat up for him.”
“Yeah!” shouted Inosuke, stomping into the house now that he had gotten his straw boots loose enough to kick off. “Who’s the pig now, Santaro?”
“What?”
“Hahahaha!” the boar pointed and laughed with malice.
Tanjiro chose to ignore this. “Sorry. Zenitsu’s not looking good, so I’ll get him taken care of—”
“No! I’ll do it!” roared Inosuke, who ran in, skidded to a stop on the tatami, and kicked Tanjiro square across his back to send both him and the blanket flying forward.
“Inosuke! What’s gotten into you?”
Nezuko swooped in with a smile as she helped Tanjiro up, cheerful as though her lecturing had been Tanjiro’s imagination. She meant it to have that effect. “Here, you come clean this up so I can make lunch.” When Tanjiro looked back over his shoulder as Inosuke ripped the blanket back to the futon, she gave her brother an extra tug toward the kitchen, then with fingers to both sides of his temples, she pointed his attention to the mess. After all, she had made a promise, and Inosuke made his request clear: Don’t tell him. It was only right to distract him.
“Sorry… it was really cold last night, so we left it…” Tanjiro went on, wondering how much of the truth he could say without saying everything. In actuality, Zenitsu had blasted the flames high and then tried to pour that boiling soup down Tanjiro’s throat as he screamed at him, and then at the limits of his patience he practically threw Tanjiro to bed and left the flames to smolder and dishes to sit half full and partially spilled on the floor. Zenitsu just as soon gave up on dragging out a second futon and declared ‘we’re done with everything tonight, it’s time for this whole awful night to be over, this whole day should just go away, hmph!’ and then he crawled in next to Tanjiro with a shiver and fell right asleep. Tanjiro wasn’t going to test fate by getting out of bed, though leaving the soup like that did bother him before he dozed off.
“Hm-hmm,” she acknowledged, absentmindedly rubbing the reddish dirt off her fingertips, and more intently peeking over at Inosuke as he tucked the blanket around Zenitsu tight as a cabbage roll. “While you’re busy with that, I’ll go forage whatever mountain sprouts I can—”
“Nezuko!” Tanjiro snatched her wrist harder than any of her tugs. It begged her wide-eyed attention as he went on. “Be careful!”
“Oniichan?”
“It’s slippery out there.”
“Inosuke-san and I made it back fine. He’s very sure-footed,” she smiled, giving Tanjiro’s hand a pat to let go.
Zenitsu’s warning rang back through his head. ‘Don’t you dare tell her—’
“It’s not snowing yet, but it doesn’t look like we have long.”
“You’re right. Smells like it’s going to be a windy one,” he said, giving her a smile and a wave out the door. I don’t need to worry her, he thought. Zenitsu’s right. I shouldn’t tell her I almost died last night.
S A T U R D A Y
Early Afternoon
Nezuko came back to find Tanjiro already working on a new meal, so she passed him by to go check on their patient, and more worrisome, his caretaker. Zenitsu was not as silent anymore, he had a low, miserable moan in his sleep. It was just as Nezuko was alarmed at the amount of sweat pouring down Zenitsu's face that Inosuke slapped a soaking wet towel over him and rubbed it around. “Ah! Inosuke-san, not like that.”
Inosuke stared up at her before answering, “I’m being gentle.”
“Just a little damp is fine.”
He contemplated the cloth dripping down his hand. “But you can’t wash the sickness away like that.”
“You’ve never caught a cold before, have you?” she asked as he knelt at his side to help.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m the King of the Forest, I can catch anything. But you can’t catch weather, that’s stupid.”
“How strong!”
“Ah-choo!!” Zenitsu sneezed hard and then moaned loader. “UNNNGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”
“Zenitsu!” Tanjiro nearly came flying through the shoji screens to check on him.
“NNNNGGGHHHHHHH!!!!”
“It’s alright, Inosuke-san’s taking care of him,” smiled Nezuko.
“He’z tryin’ t’ drown meeee…”
“I wasn’t,” muttered Inosuke.
Nezuko had already wordlessly been patting Zenitsu’s face dry and soaking up the water in his pillow, but as she looked down to her work, she took pause. “Hm?” she leaned closer now that she spotted the purple bruise spanning his cheek. “Did you two have a fight?”
“Nevvvverrr, Nezuko-chaaan…”
“Yes… Ah, I! I mean, no!” Tanjiro waved his freshly scuffed hands.
“Ha! At least I know it’s Corp rules not to pick fights! Hahaha!”
“Inosuke…” Tanjiro winced at him.
“I’ll beat you at your own game yet, Kamaboko Gonpachiro!”
“What are you even going on about?”
“You must have had a good reason for it, but try not to turn to violence next time, alright, Oniichan?”
“………y-yeah………”
“See, Inosuke-san?” she turned back to him. “Wring the cloth out first over a bowl. Then you set it on his forehead and change it for him when it gets warm. Think of how Aoi-chan does it—”
“—nngh!”
As he jerked back, she mirrored him with a gasp at herself. “And Kiyo-chan, and Sumi-chan,” she recovered, eyeing Tanjiro as she poured with sweat herself. That was close…
Inosuke looked up to see if anyone else had reacted, but Tanjiro’s frown was still on Zenitsu as he slinked back out to the kitchen. Nezuko’s heart thumped as she finished her thought.
…I almost gave it away that Inosuke-san sees Oniichan as a love rival.
S A T U R D A Y
Late Afternoon
Tanjiro and Nezuko stayed busy preparing for the snow. The first storm of the season had entirely snuck up on them, so they had a lot to hurry with as the wind picked up. When everything was secure outside and they had gathered what they’d need indoors, they came back to find Zenitsu whining and coughing and sniffling and hacking and crying, while Inosuke lied still on the tatami. That was reason enough to find something amiss, and as they expected, he was dazed with a fever. He didn’t say much, apart from, “I told you I could catch anything.”
While the whistling of the wind drowned out Zenitsu’s audible misery, Inosuke’s languid behavior made the Kamado siblings both frown with concern. “He must had been tired from the journey back,” said Tanjiro.
“He might had been coming down with something before we left,” she replied, thinking back to the very early lights of that morning when the girls of the Butterfly Mansion saw them off with regrets for a visit cut short. Inosuke had already been quiet, which Aoi had noticed, and she had put her hand up to his cheek to feel his temperature. The wind whistled louder, and Nezuko winced as she thought back to what happened next; her heart ached with sympathy for Inosuke all over again. While she couldn’t say any more about Inosuke to Tanjiro, she could redirect. “The weather changing so fast must had been hard on Zenitsu-san. He’s still not used to mountain life, after all.”
“……yeah……” Tanjiro muttered, turning red with apologies he couldn’t say out loud.
. . . F R I D A Y
Morning
Inosuke and Nezuko were both used to mountains, but Inosuke acknowledged no one else’s experience as much as his own.
Once they reached the sunshine and gentler slopes, he allowed her to walk on her own two feet instead of carrying her on his back like a princess in a palanquin. Letting her walk allowed him freedom to run off this way and that to catch squirrels to show her, or point to clouds and declare what written characters they looked like. He was eager to show off the progress he was making, as Nezuko had been teaching him how to read. He acted like a child still small enough that she felt she should hold his hand, but at Inosuke’s size, that was a thought which made her giggle.
Sometimes, like a child still gaining his language, Inosuke would hesitate on something it seemed he didn’t know how to express, or if he even should. He’d run off a few steps, pause, fold his arms and stretch his neck, or grumble in a low tone, a clear sign of his deep thought. The more he struggled, the more curious Nezuko grew, but she knew that if she asked he’d be too shy to say what was on his mind. Whatever it was, it had to be his idea to say it.
“This is right about halfway,” she said. “We’re as far as we can be from Oniichan and Zenitsu-san, and from Kanao-chan and the others all at once. We might even be the only humans for miles, tee hee, have you ever thought about that?”
“I always was the only human for miles,” he scoffed.
Her smile disappeared with shame. “That must had been so lonely, I’m sorry.”
“I grew up strong, I didn’t need anybody.”
“That’s so sad…”
“Don’t—don’t be sad! Just because I don’t need anyone doesn’t mean you don’t need me. I’m the boss, I have to take care of you all!”
“That’s good to hear. We’d all be so sad if you weren’t here.”
He paused like in a daze, and Nezuko liked to imagine how his eyes must had sparkled underneath, and then he growled, “Stop with the fuzzy-fuzzy stuff!”
“It’s true, though. You’d miss us all too, right?”
“That—that’s only natural. You’re all my underlings! And… you know… you’re a good underling,” he grumbled under the mask. The lower his voice got, the more Nezuko could feel his hesitation rising. “You’re a good underling good at keeping secrets, right?”
Nezuko lost all sense of crafty patience. “The best! I once went years without saying a word!”
“Then I’ve got something special for you, alright? It’s only for you! You’re not supposed to tell anybody, got it?”
“You’ve got it, Boss!”
He studied her up and down with a contemplative grunt, then turned a few steps away. He crouched on the ground, deep in grumbly thought. “…you won’t, right? You won’t tell anyone?”
Nezuko crouched behind him and inched her way over with tiny, scooting footsteps until she was at his side to whisper, “I won’t tell anyone. You can tell me anything.”
“……………I want Aoi as my mate.”
“!!!” Nezuko put her hands over her lips and tipped backwards to her rump with a loud rustle against the forest floor.
“She’s actually really strong, alright? Super strong!! I’ve never been so fooled by how well someone hid their strength, I had to be impressed! So I had to keep watching her, keeping an eye out for her to do something like that again, and… she… I… it made me notice more. I… she… I think she’d make a good mate.”
“You even said her name right,” Nezuko kept one hand over her mouth.
“If it’s someone strong like that, I don’t mind it. You know. Building a… building…”
“A nest together!!”
He recoiled. “What do you think I am, a bird?”
“I’m sorry! Go on.”
“…a family.”
The sound of that word always struck Nezuko to her core, squeezing her heart, chilling her spine and sending a buzz to her hands, and tickling the back of her head so that she’d see visions of those she had always attached to the term. Having such a strong reaction made sense, after Urokodaki had spent two years whispering that word to her, and how much she had relied on its power over her. Her excitement washed away.
Inosuke went on. “No one would touch my kids, I’d make sure of that. You think you underlings are special, that’s nothing! And she’d make a good mother, the best! But, I don’t know how to… humans don’t get mates like animals do, so I don’t…” he said, then dipped so quiet that Nezuko could not hear him wrestling with any thoughts.
She frowned. From everything Inosuke had boasted of his mother and her singing voice and how much she loved him, Nezuko knew he had a few memories to treasure. “Maybe your father died too early for you to remember him?”
“My father didn’t know anything,” Inosuke snapped back. “It’s ‘cause he beat my mother to a pulp that she ran to that demon who killed her.”
“Oh...” Nezuko’s heart dropped, and she shivered. Besides that horrible revelation, something bothered her deeply. It nagged and begged her to realize it, for there was some action she felt driven to take.
“Not doing that is easy. I’m not an idiot,” he said, propping his elbow on one knee and planting his chin in his hand. “But that’s not enough. I keep watching her, and she’s… I’m never the one she’s watching.”
F R I D A Y
Late Morning
In the hours since he had seen Nezuko and Inosuke off, Tanjiro set about his usual daily chores, including scrounging up some items for lunch. He parsed the vegetables in a way that they could make a simple soup for just the two of them left that evening; it would be nice with how the weather had suddenly dipped colder. After washing the rice and setting it on to soak, Tanjiro squatted before the hearth to get a fire going and feed it with dry brush and spare wood.
Zenitsu came over in a hurry to squat beside him and stuff a piece of crumbled paper in the fire. The smell of wet ink hit Tanjiro’s nostrils first, followed by the gag-worthy odor of having taken the lid off something that had been left alone to ferment for ages. Tanjiro held his breath and shut his eyes tight, leaning away from the fire until the offensive smell could burn away, in which time Zenitsu was already up and back to the other room.
Tanjiro had noticed that pungent odor coming from Zenitsu lately, like he was rotting away with all the time he spent curled up indoors lazing away at his writing desk. For as motivated as Zenitsu had been for a short while to man up and confess to Nezuko, he had quickly returned to old habits.
“I’ve got lunch handled, so you make dinner today, alright?”
“Got it, got it! I’ll do it later, I’ve got to focus!” he replied.
“If you could at least put away your futon—”
“I’ve got to get this scene right before I lose it. It’s the climax, it’s got to be right!”
Tanjiro let him be. Whatever it was, Zenitsu seemed frustrated and focused, and after some stinky silence, he crumbled another page. Tanjiro left Zenitsu’s portion of lunch and went outside to do other chores.
When he came back, the dishes were empty, but left unwashed. Zenitsu was rolling around on his futon playing with the brush, humming to himself as he reread his favorite parts of previous outlandish writings.
“Did you finish?” Tanjiro asked him.
“No, still working on it. I’m just getting inspiration. Hm-hm-hm, ten more months, ten more months,” he gleefully hummed to himself, “ten more months until Nezuko-chan’s answer.”
“You’re not done yet? You haven’t done anything all day!”
“I’m working!” he shot back. “It’s hard, though, I’m listening to your advice to make it more grounded, and that makes it hard to make it as good as these!”
“You just stink,” Tanjiro muttered.
“What was that?”
“At least put the futon outside to air out while there’s still sunshine. And you’re the one making dinner tonight, don’t wait too long on that,” he shut the door behind him, griping in his mind so that Zenitsu wouldn’t hear, You don’t listen at all.
The cold wind outside cleared both Tanjiro’s nose and his mind, he found himself absorbed in all the short tasks that life in the mountains necessitated. Without Nezuko and Inosuke to help there was still a lot left for Tanjiro to get done one-handed. Maybe not all of it needed to get done, but Tanjiro liked doing it; keeping a clean home always made him feel like he was contributing; if he was there anyway he may as well make things nicer for everyone.
What needed to get done, though, was the family trade that earned their means of survival. Selling charcoal earned them meager income, and they needed to keep a steady supply. Especially now that the weather had turned, their regular customers in town would be expecting more of it. It was a chance to earn some extra money, to buy something nice, at least within the means Nezuko would accept.
The air was not only cold, though. It was still early, but Tanjiro smelled a storm brewing.
Already! He thought as his eyes shot wide. No one’s ready for that. The old folks down in the village are going to burn through their supply. It’s not going to last until the next trip. What have I been doing? We need to hurry!
“Zenitsu!” he went back inside the house.
“Ten more months, ten more months…”
“Come help me chop wood for a new batch. Inosuke’s not here and we’ve got to hurry before the snow comes in.”
“I know there’s going to be snow, I can feel it in my legs, they hurt really bad today.”
“You haven’t even started the soup? Zenitsu, it’s going to get dark before you know it.”
“That’s why I’ve got to get through this chapter, it’s the big showdown. I’m going to get it right soon, one of these drafts is going to be it!”
“We have to get a new batch started tonight if we’re going to—”
“This’ll be the volume that’ll be my first big hit when it’s published, and then I’ll have lots of money to treat Nezuko-chan to all the nice things she deserves! You’ll see! Hee hee. Ten more months, ten more months…”
“Then she’s got ten months to think things over!”
There was a distinctly offended smell as Tanjiro slammed the door shut. Maybe he had said too much.
It needed to be said, though! Zenitsu never helped with the family trade which earned the rice he ate. Tanjiro had always been happy to be a provider, but in his current condition he couldn’t produce enough charcoal without Inosuke’s help, especially with the chopping. He’d never get everything ready by nightfall if Zenitsu made him do everything himself!
His angry thoughts churned and built momentum like linking all twelve forms of Hinokami Kagura together in a cycle, especially once he added the repetitious movements of hacking one-handedly at branches. As grateful as Tanjiro always was for Inosuke’s help, it weighed on Tanjiro’s mind how if he needed to raise the next generation of Kamados on his own, it was going to be very difficult to do so without tapping into the funds the Ubuyashiki children gave him, which Tanjiro had hoped could be saved for Nezuko instead. With a loud thunk halfway through a branch, Tanjiro went on to think, it wasn’t as if he’d be around for much of the next generation anyway.
On he chopped. With one arm his accuracy varied, and the cuts were not as smooth as he liked, but it would have to do.
It wasn’t something he could ask Nezuko, but it had sometimes floated through Tanjiro’s mind that he should ask Zenitsu to take Nezuko’s name. That way, at least the family would go on. Nezuko was every bit the Kamado that Tanjiro was.
But—he thought as he whacked another branch—there was so no way Tanjiro could leave the Kamado family and charcoal farm to someone so irresponsible as—
“—whoa—”
The ax went wide of the tree, sending Tanjiro tumbling forwards. He leaned back to correct his balance, only to lean too far, and to keep going too far, too far—
“Ww-w-oooOOAAAAHH!”
The forest when sailing by as Tanjiro fell further than where he expected the ground to be, and when his back hit dirt and rock again, the angle was slick and sent him tumbling, sliding, picking up speed, and very quickly there was no ground against him. Air whooshed by as he was in freefall.
Catch myself! He shouted in his mind and reached out for some root or rock he couldn’t get a good grip on in his right hand. A second hand would had done it, if the second hand he flung toward saving grace wasn’t already dead and lifeless. The stones tumbled and roots slipped out of his grasp, then he felt nothing at all but movement and gravity. Tanjiro knew something hard would come soon to make him stop, he had to pour all his Breath into going on the defensive to take the blow which the darkening world had in store for him.
BASH!!
Tanjiro had tried to aim his forehead, but didn’t make it in time and met the ground with the top of his head. While it wasn’t by much, his flesh was softer there, so blood leaked through his hairline. His head thumped, and with a startled chill, he let out a long Breath. “Whew… that was close.”
He groaned and held his hand to his head as he sat up and assessed his situation. He was at the bottom of a pit, better that than a cliff. Tanjiro was reminded of what his grandmother told him one time, she said his uncle had died a couple years before Tanjiro’s parents were married; it had been a rainstorm and he had slipped and fallen somewhere on this same mountain, and they couldn’t recover his remains without the help of a few woodsmen. Compared to that, a pit was easy. Tanjiro had climbed his way out of many deep ones, back when he had fallen into them over and over back on Mount Sagiri. He had an embarrassingly large amount of practice at this.
A climb would be easier with two arms… but not impossible with one, right?
“Hup… hnngh! …..Hnngh!!”
For as many times as Tanjiro set out to make this a simple task, he found himself sliding back to his feet time and time again. Had it been a narrower pit he could had kicked off the against the other walls, but with nowhere to go but up, his attempts to scale the face of dirt and dead leaves left him flat on his rump before he ever made it far.
“Zenitsuuuu!” he called out. “Zenitsuuuu! Help!”
He listened.
“Zeeeenitsuuuu! I’m sorry? Come on, please… Zeeeeeniiiitsuuuuu?”
He was answered only by the sound of his own panting.
“Inosukeeee! Nezukoooo!”
There still came no other answer, and no way up.
S A T U R D A Y
Late Afternoon
Thinking back to the moment that desolation set in, Tanjiro shivered with his neck tucked against his shoulders. Nezuko looked up at him. “Are you cold?”
“I’m still alright,” he said, while the wind howled and parts of the house rattled. They had pushed the futon close together around the hearth and sat close enough to watch the burning of the coals. Sometimes when something contagious had swept through their whole family they’d arrange the room that way, all huddling close on each other’s laps and shoulders. With only two ill patients that made the room feel sparse, but the change from their usual routine as a family of four made the room feel cozy as the storm blew outside.
While Zenitsu shook and moaned after each cough, Inosuke stayed silently curled up on Nezuko’s lap, his face a rosy shade while she stroked his head. “Poor Inosuke-san. His head must hurt so bad.”
“Mah head hurtz tu, COUGH, hhghmngh,” Zenitsu grumbled, facing away.
“You’d think Zenitsu-san is the one who’s never caught a cold before,” she said more quietly with a smile up to Tanjiro.
Tanjiro’s mouth twisted, and Zenitsu grumbled more. “No one eber spoiled me like tha—COUGH! COUGH, COUGH!! Gnnghh…”
For what must had been the hundredth time that day, Tanjiro’s heart twisted. The house rattled harder in an especially harsh, shrill gale. He and Nezuko both shivered this time, and then he said to her, “Maybe you and Inosuke should had stayed at the Butterfly Mansion.”
“No!” she said back. “We—they—Inosuke-san was worried about you!”
Zenitsu’s shoulders twitched, and Tanjiro frowned down to his sleeping housemate on Nezuko’s lap. “Was he? He wasn’t acting like that.”
“He’s the boss, he always is. He’s just not always good at showing it.”
F R I D A Y
Early Afternoon
While Nezuko wanted with her whole being to believe Inosuke when he said he knew better, there was a tickle of a bother in her mind. And, like any good tickle fight she used to have with Rokuta, it started as a poke, something barely there, and the moment Rokuta would realize that he was in for it, he couldn’t contain himself and squealed before the attack fully commenced. Once Nezuko recognized what bothered her, she was the same.
“Inosuke-san, are you sure about that?”
“About what?” he asked. They had already continued on their journey, and she was bouncing along on his back while he crawled. “I know she’s not watching me! I’m sure she doesn’t look at me. I grew up following prey and beating off bears, I can tell that much!”
“No. Are you certain you’d never treat Aoi-chan roughly?”
“I never have!”
“The last time all four of us visited…”
“Yeah?”
“When dinner was late and we were all busy helping…”
“I don’t remember this.”
“You were there! You were asking where your plate was and bugging Aoi-chan that you were hungry, but she was busy helping Oniichan get the rice boiling, and you lost your patience…”
“That never happened. My plate is always ready.”
“What plate? You pulled—”
“My plate!!”
“…you pulled both sides of Aoi-chan’s hair and she screamed and Zenitsu-san got startled and dropped the tofu and then Naho-chan slipped in it and—”
“Didn’t happen!”
“…she hurt her wrist. Aoi-chan was so angry at you, and you don’t remember?”
“…………nrgh.”
Nezuko’s eyebrows knit. “You do remember.”
“Yeah, and then Tontaro went and made Nabo feel all better while Aoi got mad at me. Happens a lot, I’m used to it.”
“You got carried away. You got upset and you hurt her.”
“I wasn’t going to be rough with her. They’re pully-tails, everyone wants to pull them, right? That’s not my fault. Sure, maybe Soujiro never feels like that, but that’s only because he’s all fluffy in the head behind that skull anyway. You want to pull them, right? Right?”
“Inosuke-san,” she lowered her voice. If Inosuke never had his mother to tell him this, Nezuko knew she had to. “Your father probably made excuses like this too. You can’t do those things and say it was just because you were hungry.”
“Nnghhhh,” he growled in a way that showed he was struggling to find some reason to refute.
Inosuke was good and honest at heart, when he knew he was in the wrong, he was just like one of her brothers. Tanjiro was always one to bow his head and admit his fault if he could be convinced he had the slightest bit of it, Takeo could lie smoothly until the guilt consumed him later, Shigeru usually had no awareness of wrongdoing and was quick to accept a correction and move on his happy way, but Inosuke’s reaction was most like Rokuta. Rokuta, in his toddler heart, would try to find a way to make what he wanted also be what was good and right. When he could not make this peace with himself, he’d start to cry. He probably would had grown to be a very sincere person, who words things carefully and handles everyone around him gently. So very unlike Inosuke, but in the way they confronted reality however unwelcome it was, so similar. Inosuke must had been hurt by what Nezuko said, but he was brave to wrestle with it.
At last, he spoke. “It wasn’t because I was hungry.”
“Oh?”
“She wasn’t paying attention to me. She never does.”
“That’s not true. She takes very good care of you, every time we’re there.”
“Not when it’s all four of us! You must not watch her at all if you haven’t noticed it! You know who she’s always looking at? It’s not me, it’s Tanjiro!”
F R I D A Y
Afternoon… Late Afternoon?
It had gotten dark with cloud cover, and Tanjiro was still all alone. It had been over an hour since his last futile attempt to claw his way up, and his nails hurts with how much dirt was crammed under them. His stomach gurgled. He hugged his knees to his chest to save warmth, and his periodic cries for help grew more sporadic and less powered. More and more, his body couldn’t justify the effort of making his dry voice heard.
When his uncle had died, it seemed it was instant. His uncle didn’t have to feel cold and hunger inching in, but Tanjiro’s father would later live with the memory of watching those final moments. He never talked about it. As Tanjiro had heard from his grandmother on a day she was feeling wistful, his father had stayed on his belly at the top of the cliff with the rain pelting his back as cried out that everything would be alright, and maybe that had brought his uncle some comfort if he could still hear him.
By the time Tanjiro’s grandmother had told him all this, the sting of losing her second son had faded. Grief always does, even if in the throws of it one can never imagine the pain becoming any less. That was why Tanjiro felt that no matter what would happen to him with his mark, Nezuko and the others would be alright… in the long run.
The end of happiness always came with the smell of blood.
The bleeding from his head had stopped, but the scent was still on his clothes and caked into his hair. He always knew to be ready for it, he had watched others’ examples and had so many of his own brushes with death that he knew how close it always lurked.
“Helloooo?” he called out. “Helloooo…”
Not even an answer from a crow.
F R I D A Y
Early Afternoon
“What? Oh, no, you don’t need to worry, Inosuke-san! My brother wouldn’t take Aoi-chan, he--,” clearly likes Kanao, she would had finished, but what Tanjiro felt had no bearing on what Aoi did.
Nezuko and the girls at the Butterfly Mansion talked about all sorts of things—happy memories, favorites food, seasonal flowers to decorate the alcove with—but perhaps unlike other girls their age, they had never broached such a topic as love. Nezuko got the feeling that Aoi would never want to.
Aoi was tight and guarded with her feelings, exactly why someone like Inosuke might be good for her. Someone who felt things as deeply as Aoi had to keep those feelings contained, less they overflow and bury the people around her, and in Aoi’s line of caretaking it wouldn’t do for her to unload on her subjects of care. Even Zenitsu only ever got a stern warning when she was worried about his injuries, Kanao was given short and formal thanks-yous that only slipped through the stores and stores of gratitude Aoi had for her, Nezuko had only earned little smiles here and there, but Inosuke always seemed to barge in and clear out the corners of Aoi’s tightly packed storehouses of feelings, whatever it was she had to unleash at him.
In Tanjiro’s case, there was a lot of formal warnings and thank-yous, smiles and warm ‘take care of yourself’s that probably only showed a peek into what all she kept contained. Now that Inosuke mentioned it, if Aoi had romantic feelings for someone, there could had been no one else but Tanjiro.
“Oh.”
“See? I’m right.”
“And that’s why you felt jealous.”
“What this means is I have to beat him once and for all. Go up against him and prove I’m stronger. But--but don’t tell him!”
“I don’t think you have to worry about him trying to fight you—”
“Don’t tell him!!” he repeated.
Of course she couldn’t, not when Inosuke sounded so desperate. If anyone around here loved and adored her brother, it was Inosuke, and the conflicting realities of wanting to be around Tanjiro all the time but also wanting him out of the way must had made both his head and his heart hurt. If they all grew up and got families of their own someday, though, that second course was bound to happen. Inosuke was hearing the call of growing up.
But what mattered was the here and now. Nezuko’s heart grew hot. Whether it was happy or not was for them all to decide in the moment, there was no need for Inosuke to fault Tanjiro for Aoi’s feelings or fault himself for feeling that way. He just had to do his best. “Don’t worry, Boss. I can keep a secret. I’m the best at it, remember?”
“Good. That’s good, Underling!”
“You know what we should do? Think of ways to make Aoi-chan notice you instead! She was paying attention to Oniichan because he was helping her do chores, right? This time it’s just you and me, it’s your chance to show Aoi-chan how nice you can be!”
“Ohh!” Inosuke jittered. “So that’s how I’ll beat him. I’ll do it. I’ll show him!!”
S A T U R D A Y
Early Evening
“ii…. a… an… aa… nn…”
Inosuke heard it again, but didn’t have it in him to tell Zenitsu to stop waking him up. It sounded like Zenitsu was talking in his sleep anyway, and there was no waking up Zenitsu when he was at his strongest. Ignoring him, he tried to fall asleep again, but even in the silence he couldn’t find any escape from the cottony feeling in his throat, weights in his ears, and tight aches throughout all his muscles.
Some half an hour later, Inosuke, feeling lively enough to sit up, dragged himself to the neighboring futon, where Zenitsu slept with a wheeze. By the wince around Zenitsu’s eyes, Inosuke paused and waited for him to say something in his sleep again, but for now, Zenitsu said nothing. Inosuke took a breath so deep that it made his bare chest swell round like a barrel. He opened his mouth directly over Zenitsu’s face.
“COUGH!! COUGH, COUGH, COUGH!!”
“AAAAAHHH!! AUGHH!! INOSUKE, WHA—COU—COUGH, COUGH—WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”
“I don’ like this. M’ givin’ it back.”
“AUGH, STOP, GROSS! THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!” he planted his hand against Inosuke’s face and pushed him over. Inosuke fell against the futon with such little resistance that it gave out nothing more than the puffy sound of feathers. “COUGH---COUGH COUGH COUGH—unnnghhhhh.”
“Zenitsu?” Tanjiro opened the door, and Zenitsu shot him a glare.
“What?”
“Do you want anything? I’ll get it for you.”
“I want Nezuko-chan.”
“She’s busy. I’ll rub your head for you if you want?”
“No!! Who would want your rough hands—COUGH COUGH—Nezuko—COUGH COUGH COUGH—chan’s a girl, she’s soft—”
A hand smacked across Zenitsu’s forehead. His eyes, as well as Tanjiro’s went to it, and then the hand rustled Zenitsu’s hair back and forth. As the fingertips went over his eyes, they poked the bruise on his cheek.
“Mh handz rr soffft,” mumbled the strained voice behind it.
“Inosuke does have soft hands,” Tanjiro scooted in on his knees. He took Inosuke’s other hand and rubbed it tenderly against his face. “How nice. It’s sad he’s got a fever, but it’s all warm.”
“Mmnggh,” Inosuke replied, drowsily staring off. Tanjiro held Inosuke’s arm a smidge closer. That pit had been so cold.
“Are you feeling okay? Tanjiro.”
“Yeah. Nezuko and I are both feeling fine,” he assured Zenitsu. “The snow’s piling up out there already. I don’t think it’ll last for long, though. I probably shouldn’t had been in such a rush. I’m really sorry—”
“Shut up. Not a word,” Zenitsu glowered, then with his eyes wide he hissed very quietly, “my legs feel like they’re going to snap like toothpicks.”
Tanjiro whined back in a whisper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”
“Snnhhhghhhh---" Inosuke sailed forward by the weight of his aching head. As his forehead smacked against Zenitsu’s, Zenitsu swallowed the pain like a dumpling in one bite, Tanjiro winced, and Inosuke’s head tumbled to one side. He snored in Zenitsu’s ear while his hand fell to hold Tanjiro’s over his lap.
Nezuko wondered what that loud knock had been. She peeked through the opening Tanjiro had left in the shoji screens, and was awash with wonder all over again how close those boys were. Even in the close friendships she enjoyed now, it never looked anything like that. While peeling the potatoes and chopping the vegetables, she had already been thinking back to the short visit at the Butterfly Mansion.
F R I D A Y
Afternoon
By the time they arrived, Inosuke had committed to memory all Nezuko’s coaching on saying hello properly to Aoi and asking how she was, but he was so unaccustomed that he was rigid all the way through his back, leaning so far that his shoulders arched away and his snout stuck high up in the air.
“Hello… A… A… Amami. How is nice weather.”
“It’s… nice for now,” Aoi had replied with a befuddled look, but it had only lasted an instant before she showed them in to have some snacks. Inosuke was sure to compliment them, as Nezuko coached.
“Snacks are good. You make good snacks.”
“We made them,” volunteered Sumi. “Aoi-san was busy.”
“Gotou-san crashed the car he was driving.”
“And he and all the Kakushi who were riding with him needed treatment here!”
“They made really bad patients.”
“Aoi-san had to work hard to make them all stay in bed.”
“I’ll bet she had to put them into chokeholds! Or chopped them lopside the head!” Inosuke volunteered his imagination with gestures, one foot on the table, and an excited laugh.
Aoi leaned away with a grimace. “I wouldn’t injure my patients.”
He piped down. Hands stiffly folded in his lap. Snout to his chest.
“Thankfully they were light injuries. We finally discharged them all this morning,” smiled Kanao. “It’s probably getting cold up on the mountain. How are Tanjiro and Zenitsu?”
“Fine,” replied Inosuke. Nezuko elbowed him, and he sat up straight. “They’re both very fine, thank you!”
“Zenitsu-san’s already complaining about the cold.”
“That’s no surprise. I’m concerned that Tanjiro-san might be more prone to illness now. Tell him to take care. Dress in layers.”
“I don’t need layers.”
“Yes, we know this. I’ve made extra medicine for you to take back with you in case Tanjiro-san needs it.”
Inosuke tensed up like he was about to growl some sharp response, and his hands rose with arched fingers. Because he felt Nezuko notice, though, he paused, then very slowly returned his hands to his lap, slouched forward, and said nothing else for snack time. Nezuko frowned, and then prodded him to do the clean-up afterward, but Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho treated him like an honored guest and wouldn’t let him.
Nezuko wracked her brain looking for any chance Inosuke could get, especially in Aoi’s line of sight. “Aoi-chan! There were still some pretty flowers in bloom on the way here, Inosuke-san can probably run and get them!”
“That’s alright. We already changed them recently.”
“We found a spot last year where some of Kanae-sama’s favorite flowers bloom,” smiled Kiyo.
“Oh! We would had all been living here around then, weren’t we?”
“Yes! We found them because Tanjiro-san smelled them!”
“Ahh… I see. Say, what’s for dinner? Inosuke-san’s really good at fishing, you know! He usually catches our breakfast every morning.”
“That’s nice. Aoi-san already bought tonight’s fish.”
“She’s very good at budgeting. There’s enough for breakfast too,” added Kanao.
“What’s budgeting?" snorted Inosuke. "I’ve never heard of a fish called that.”
“It’s not a fish,” replied Aoi. “I can’t imagine what you ever even did with your Corp salary. You did know that was money, right?”
“Aoi-chan, Aoi-chan! Remember the doors? The doors that were stuck? I’ll bet Inosuke-san can fix them!”
“Doors? Oh, Tanjiro-san fixed those last time he was here. Please pass along my thanks.”
Anything obvious was either something their hosts already had handled, or it was work too delicate to let Inosuke touch anyway. While Inosuke seemed more and more deflated, Nezuko got agitated in his place. What else could he do? He was getting good at odd jobs. Were there any other repairs needed around the mansion? Any dusting in high places? Days and days worth of extra rice to cook? Not only wouldn’t these all had been tasks that Aoi would more gladly handle herself, but each idea rang through Nezuko’s head in Tanjiro’s voice. There was no conceivable way of beating her imaginary brother to any of the chores or pleasantries or extra heaps of kindness.
“I’m sorry, Inosuke-san,” she said while the two of them found themselves alone. She stared up at the dark clouds rolling into the sky. “Oniichan really is the worst love rival anyone could have.”
“Mmngggh,” he acknowledged. “Wouldn’t be so hard if we were deer. I’d just buck him with my antlers.”
“He’d ram you with his forehead.”
“Bears, then! If we were bears I’d be louder and scarier than him! I’d tear—” he stopped, then lowered his fists to his lap as he fell to a deep slouch. Even exaggerating, Inosuke couldn’t finish saying anything that implied such harm coming to someone he loved so much. He really was so straightforward and honest. For as much as it stung to see him look so ashamed of himself, Nezuko’s heart was warmed, but then a cold wind swept over her.
“Ah!” she said as her hand shot to her ribbon to keep it from flying off. “You think it’s going to snow already?”
“Feels that way.”
“That’s so sudden! Maybe we should head back?”
“Maybe... we can’t leave those two to get buried in snow, can we?”
“Hmm, it’ll be dark soon. Maybe if we head out early—oh! Inosuke-san, Inosuke-san, look!”
“Hrm?”
She pointed to the yard of clotheslines, where Aoi was carrying a basket overflowing with sheets, leaning backwards to keep it all from toppling over. “That must be from all the patients they just had. Go! Go help her!” she said.
Inosuke looked between Nezuko and Aoi and grunted with hesitation, and within seconds Nezuko couldn’t take it any longer and gave his back a big shove to make him take off running to Aoi’s aid. They were far enough and the wind was too strong to make out with they said, but after what looked like a brief communication issue, Aoi accepted his help, and they got to work hanging the stack of wet sheets together, fastening them tightly in the wind. As one edge escaped Aoi’s grasp he leaned over her to pass it back into her hand, so absorbed in the mission that he seemed his usual self even in that close brush with her. As another sheet took flight until he caught it, Aoi looked to him with eyes like he was genuinely her hero, but she just as quickly snapped at him to hurry and fasten it, and he snapped back that he was already doing so.
Nezuko’s empty hands stayed in the air as she watched. Inosuke—however stiff and awkward—was finally able to spend that time alone with the girl he was lovesick for. Someday, Inosuke would grow up, just like Rokuta would had.
F R I D A Y
Late…
With Breath technique, slow and controlled, Tanjiro could make his body heat last longer than normal people could. Over the hours his energy ran thin, and he curled up on one side. The dirt was as cold as if he wore no clothes. Those pits in Mt. Sagiri must had been colder than this, but he had always found his way out of them. He’d never been alone on that mountain, he felt Urokodaki’s presence in every laid trap, and even when absorbed in uselessly beating his sword against the rock, he was never without Sabito and Makomo and Urokodaki’s other students watching him; he still had a warm place to return at night and someone to eat his dinners with. His heart had been pained to see Nezuko so still, but he had nursed that loneliness away by pouring over letters written for her, and every day he got up and kept trying. Every day might be the day he’d break the rock, and he kept choosing to go.
There was no choice for him here in this pit. One teardrop ran from his left eye over the bridge of his nose and plopped to the ground. It was completely dark, and the pit smelled stale.
While he had always prepared for death, he had never prepared for a death all alone. He so often had someone with him at his side in battle. Even when there wasn’t a friend, he wasn’t alone, there’d have been a demon, a person who would taunt and witness him and fill the silence.
Sooner or later, Tanjiro hoped he’d finally lose the last of his thoughts and fall asleep. He’d hear his mother there waiting for him, right? And everyone else whom he’d loved and lost.
“…Takeo…?”
There was no answer. While he had felt the presence of his family so often before when he was in peril, maybe defeating their enemy meant they had finally passed on in peace.
Nezuko… she’d be the last one left.
She was bound to be, though. Tanjiro wasn’t meant to stick around long in the first place.
“Sor…ry… N… Nezuko…”
Stop apologizing, Oniichan.
“B..ut…”
Face forward. Let’s do our best and keep fighting.
He didn’t have the strength to say everything he wanted to aloud. He was sorry. It was because of all those times he had to fight that his body was like this now, and he was going to leave her.
Don’t apologize. Oniichan, you should know. You should know my feelings!
He knew too well! If only he still could have those years. Twenty-five years wasn’t a long life, but there was still so much he could do if he had that much time.
When his uncle died, he probably didn’t have to lie awake so long with regrets, did he? Even if he did, his big brother had been there to keep him company until the cold had claimed him. What Tanjiro would give to hear his own brothers again, or those who were like brothers to him. If only the last words Tanjiro ever exchanged hadn’t been so full of anger…
“---nnj—ooooo---”
There came a hoarse voice too far to be clear, but unmistakably Zenitsu. Tanjiro flinched from his ribs to his elbows as his eyes shot open. Too tired and cold to sit up, he focused all his energy on one big Breath. “ZEEENIIITSUUUUUU!!!”
Several moments later, tufts of yellow hair appeared over the ledge of the pit like a morning star, and Zenitsu yowled in fright at the sight of Tanjiro curled up at the bottom. “AAAHH!!! Hang on! Hang on, I’m coming down there!! Don’t move!” he yelled before stepping back out of sight.
“I w-won’t…”
There was a burst like a thunderclap, and a blur banking off the sides of the pit six times in a controlled descent. Zenitsu stopped with a bang on two feet, then screamed “YYYYYYEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!” before falling over, and then scrambling on all fours to Tanjiro. He pulled Tanjiro up to a sitting position, giving him a check all over. Tanjiro, whose eyes had long adjusted to the darkness, got a good look back at Zenitsu’s ruddy, snotty face, all wet with tears. “Tanjiro-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I should had helped you with the chopping, I’m sorry-y-y-y-y!”
“Ze-Ze-Zenitsu… I’m so glad-d-d-d…” he shivered.
Zenitsu put a hand to Tanjiro’s frozen face and pulled it back with another scream, “YAAAAII!”, and then in one motion took off his haori to wrap around Tanjiro’s shoulders and leaned him close. The haori had some of that fermented smell, but the threads were also deep with the comforting scent of an elderly person. “Sorry. I need a minute. I’ll get you home and warmed up,” Zenitsu sniffled, and Tanjiro starting bobbing back and forth with the motion of Zenitsu forcefully rubbing his aching thighs.
“It—it-it-it was s-s-s-so cold-d-d-d.”
“It still is, you’re not out of the woods yet!”
“I was—I was thinking about my uncle, who d-d-d-d-died like -t-t-t-th-this.”
“That’s not at all something I want to hear, something dark like that!! Read the air down here! But if talking is going to keep you warm, then fine, I got it, I got it, I’ll listen, have at it!! Don’t die! Don’t you dare die!”
However forcefully it rocked, Zenitsu’s back was so warm, and Tanjiro felt he’d be rocked fast asleep right then and there. “Thank you. I guess I really c-c-can’t t-t-t-talk about everything wi—w-w-w-with Nezuko.”
“Don’t you dare!!” he yelled back in Tanjiro’s face, the hot breath warming up the tip of his frozen nose. “Nezuko-chan worries enough about you as it is! Are you hurt anywhere? Do you have any broken bones?”
“No, I landed-d-d on my head-d-d-d.”
“How in the world are you alive?!!?” he screamed, and then gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut hard as he dug his fingertips against other parts of his legs. Tanjiro’s heart sank with how much it looked like it hurt. It was so good to see him; he wished he hadn’t said something so hurtful to him that afternoon.
“Zenitsu, thank you,” he rested his face against Zenitsu’s bobbing shoulder, letting his thoughts dribble from his lips, just happy to know someone was there to hear them. “You’ve always been someone I can talk to. It’s nice that we’re around the same age, it’s different than t-t-t-talking to someone like Takeo or Giyuu-san. Inosuke… d-d-doesn’t mind, but he’s not a good listener. It’s d-d-different with you,” he shivered again. “Even when we met, I could tell you everything about Nezuko—”
“You better not tell her you almost died!! Especially not the falling on your head part!!”
“I d-d-don’t plan to--”
“Don’t tell her!!”
“I—I won’t, I promise.”
“I won’t forgive you if you cause one hair on her head to fall out with worry!!” he sounded angry, but smelled terrified. Who knew how long Zenitsu had been out there looking for him? Tanjiro had never been alone at all, had he? He rested his frozen cheek against him for the extra warmth.
“It was so lonely down here… I thought I’d never see any of you again,” he whined and rocked back and forth, hugging the haori tighter as another shiver overcame him. “I’m so happy to talk to you again at all.”
“Whatever. Keep talking if it’ll make you warm. O-w-w! Argh! Ow…”
“You can talk to me too, if you want…,” Tanjiro went on, and his voice fell fainter and fainter as relief cleared the way for exhaustion set in. “I’ll listen.”
“You do a lot of talking for someone listening. And for someone who should be dead by now.”
“…You remember back at Himejima-san’s training, when I left before you…? You had me so worried… I wish I would have stuck around longer… given you more time. That was… probably right around the time you heard about your Jiichan passing, didn’t you?”
Zenitsu went still, and there came a heavy whiff of that fermenting, pungent scent. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“You looked so different, I was startled… like you were preparing yourself for something… maybe… was it that… your Jiichan was killed by a demon…?”
“Something like that,” he replied, throwing Tanjiro’s arms over his shoulders. He slid his feet into position to stand up. “My elder martial brother chose to become a demon, so Jiichan slit his own belly with no one around to cut off his head.”
“…?”
For a moment, Tanjiro felt like he hadn’t heard anything at all. His stomach twisted with the cold, his ears buzzed, and a frenzy stirred under his disbelief. “That’s…”
“I killed him in Muzan’s Infinity Fortress. It’s all over now.”
But that--Tanjiro thought as Zenitsu stood--that would be the same as if Giyuu had accepted demon blood, Urokodaki had killed himself, and then Tanjiro had to take Giyuu’s head. That was—it was too awful—
“Ze--”
“—Godspeed.”
Tanjiro shut his eyes tight and his head was forced backwards at the rate they accelerated straight up and out of the pit, Zenitsu’s grip on his wrists being the only thing to keep Tanjiro from flying off. As their motion changed directions, falling back to the earth, the pungent odor wafted off Zenitsu so strongly it choked to the back of Tanjiro’s throat, and he felt he might be sick. It burned right to the bottom of his chest, mixing with everything brewing there after hearing what words Zenitsu had shared. It hurt.
Zenitsu landed on his feet, but his legs immediately gave out and he fell flat forward. There was the briefest quiet, giving Tanjiro a chance to recognize that he was on top of Zenitsu and that Zenitsu must had been injured. The next instant, Zenitsu squirmed and screamed against the dirt. Growled, wailed, whatever it was, Zenitsu had pain too big to keep inside himself. When the yell turned to something more recognizable as sobs and whines, he didn’t put any effort into picking his head up.
Tanjiro would only make it worse by staying there; the hopeful change of location gave him new stores of energy and a fresh mind for problem solving. “Zenitsu,” he said, “I think I can walk from here. You see that stick over there? Would you be able to use that to get back to the house?”
“Hnnnghhh?” he dragged his face out of the dirt for a look, and thus began their long, slow, hobbling return uphill to their home, where dinner had long since gone cold.
S A T U R D A Y… daybreak
While the girls all insisted they stay as long as they want to ride out the approaching storm, no one could say a word of rebuttal when Nezuko excused them with, “We’ve got to go take care of Oniichan.” The very mention of him worked a magic on anyone from the charcoal customers of the mountain village to the hardened swordsmen of what was once a dedicated demon slaying Corp; Nezuko knew better than anyone what impact Tanjiro had and that no one could ever contend with it. Even if Inosuke wanted to resent him for it, the disharmony that brought against how he truly felt about Tanjiro could only quiet and sicken him. Seeing him so downtrodden made Nezuko ache with regret that she had done nothing to help Inosuke but force him to face what he could never measure up to.
She wished she could tell him to keep his chin up, for no one ever wanted Inosuke to try to be Tanjiro. If only she had encouraged him to be the best version himself instead, their one and only irreplaceable Inosuke. Like each and every member of her family, he was his own, she’d never find another.
“Inosuke-san?” said Aoi, breaking Nezuko’s thoughts.
“Mrgh?” he grunted up to her. He had been standing behind Nezuko while she said their parting good-byes, his arms folded and his glance away, though it was hard to tell such a thing from behind his boar mask.
Aoi approached him, slid the mask away for a look at his face. He flushed and stared back.
“Are you feeling alright?” Aoi asked, and placed her hand to his cheek.
Nezuko held her belongings in front of her mouth as she gasped. Aoi really had been paying attention to Inosuke! Did she know, though? Could she guess what flooded Inosuke’s face with pink and made his eyes shimmer and shutter?
Inosuke’s face went from pink to crimson, and he responded the best he knew how, chomping on her thumb with a sharp bite.
“O-O-O-OWWW!!” Aoi screamed. “What is wrong with you? Ow!! That hurt!!”
“I didn’t—no—nothing’s wrong with me, you’re the one who—hey—”
“O-O-O-O-W-W-W-W-W!!”
“Aoi-san! You’re bleeding!”
“Aoi-san, quick, let’s treat that with iodine.”
“Is that going to need stitches?”
“Inosuke!” Kanao gawked at him.
Nezuko looked tearfully to him. “Inosuke-san…”
“Erk—ack—mrhhnngh---” he looked from face to face as he burned deeper shades of red that ventured into purple. He hid his face with the boar head, but his chest still changed color and thumped up and down with his heart. “I’m fine! I’m not a weakling who would fall into a trap like that! Come on, Underling, let’s go!”
He marched off with fists and attitude to deflect all glances, so Nezuko hurried to check Aoi’s injury, bowed and apologized on Inosuke’s behalf, and then ran to catch up. They disappeared between the trees, and as soon as Inosuke felt the safety of no one but Nezuko looking at him, he deflated so thoroughly that she wondered if she might need to drag him up the mountain.
He never sank quite that low, stopping in his tracks instead to slip his hands up under the mask. It muffled the sound, so she couldn’t tell if he was muttering to himself or sniffling, but a moment later he continued marching with fists at his side and not another word.
On their trek up, he stayed ahead of her, sometimes so forceful in his pace that she had trouble keeping up. The most he’d say was to warn her not to fall behind or to watch her step, but he was in no mood for talking. When Nezuko could keep up no longer, she apologized and asked for a break. He granted this permission, but faced away.
Once she caught her breath, she knew they couldn’t go on until this was addressed. “She’ll be alright. She’s strong, remember?”
“You were right!” he spat back. “I can’t do this. I couldn’t go a whole day without hurting her. I’m just as bad as the asshole who fathered me!”
“I never said that—”
“Don’t go making excuses! I’m the one who did that, I get it, I know! I can’t have nice things like a mate because I’m not a nice person, not fluffy and nice at all like Konjiro. Better I just back off and stay away! I’m the King of the Forest anyway! Better off alone!”
“Inosuke-san—”
“I’d hurt her all the time, just like that. Just like my father, I don’t know any other way to be! It’s all because he was like that that my mother died, it’s his fault she ever suffered in the first place. I wish he just… I wish my mother never met him at all!!”
“Inosuke-san, stop it. If she never met him, she’d never have had you!”
He harumphed and turned away with folded arms, planting his rump on a log for a seat. Nezuko would not accept such attitude and marched over to stand in front of him. If not for the boar mask, she’d have flicked him in the forehead.
“Don’t you dare say anything like that again. If she didn’t have you, we wouldn’t have you either.”
“What good could a baby like me do, huh? She only had me such a teeny-tiny short time. She promised me she was happy as long as I was there. That’s all I could do, though, I couldn’t protect her, I didn’t know anything. Now I’m big and I’m strong, but I can’t make anyone happy! Hrrrrrrhhh!!”
Nezuko drew him close and cradled his head and shoulders. “That’s your kindness, Inosuke-san. It’s alright to regret how short a time you had to make your mother so happy. It’s not fair. But whether it’s Aoi-chan or not, you’ll bring as much joy to your new family someday as you did to your mother. I’m sure of it.”
It was muffled, but he sniffled, and then started to cry as he hugged her back. Both at the angle she stood over him and the amount of strength he used to squeeze, it was painful, but nothing she couldn’t stand. She meant it when she said he’d make his new family happy someday, but that was someday, and the rest of her thoughts she kept buried to herself like a knife against her heart.
…but I’m glad I get to keep you a little longer.
S U N D A Y
Morning
Sun danced on what was left of the snow. Pockets of it had stayed to the morning shadows and where the last night’s wind had made it drift, but it was bound to all be gone by noon. Tanjiro opened the shutters to let fresh air sweep through, and as the sunshine lit up his yellow hair, Zenitsu winced and rubbed his eyes.
Inosuke rolled over and waited, his snout right over Zenitsu’s face. The sight was hardly startling anymore, and Zenitsu groaned, “What do you want?”
“You want breakfast, right? SN—I-I-I-I-I-I-FFLE.”
“Ew. Not if you’re going to make gross sounds like that.”
“You were saying it again,” Inosuke replied, then outstretched his hand and tried to make his voice higher. “Jii-i-i-cha-a-a-n, Ji-i-i-i-i-c-h-a-n. COUGH!! COUGH, COUGH, COUGH!”
“No, I wasn’t,” he grimaced. “And for the last time, ashes aren’t for eating!”
“COUGH, COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH,” Inosuke made his way out of the living room and over to the kitchen. “Breakfast! Breakfast! Breakfast!”
“Monster,” Zenitsu glowered after him.
“Are you still feeling bad?” Tanjiro asked with a lowered voice. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“I’ll eat whatever. But you’ve got to bring it to me,” he replied, then dipped his voice to a whisper, “because the second I stand up my legs are going to snap and give out. I’m stuck.”
“I’m sorry,” Tanjiro whimpered back as he hung his head, “I’ll get you anything you need.”
“Go catch Inosuke before he coughs all over Nezuko-chan and gets her sick too.”
“If she hasn’t caught it from him yet she’s probably not going to. He’s been all over her.”
“I know. The pig’s lucky I haven’t gone after him myself,” his face turned dark with rage. Still, Zenitsu’s fever was gone, and he seemed a lot better. That pungent odor, likewise, was lighter. It lingered and still made Tanjiro’s stomach turn, but it was like it had finally been allowed the chance to air out.
“Let’s keep the windows open,” he said to Zenitsu, then followed his other housemates.
Inosuke found Nezuko outside cleaning up after all the wind, but the instant he opened the door he shivered from his exposed waist up to his shoulders. She turned him around and ushered him back inside to stay warm. He whined, but when she redirected his focus to helping serve breakfast, he chipperly obeyed, holding his breath to keep from coughing like she warned him. They gathered and ate a simple rice gruel together, but since Zenitsu still seemed pained to sit up to eat, Nezuko assured him Inosuke would very kindly help as his nurse. Leaving it in Inosuke’s cheerful and capable hands, she gathered up the laundry while Tanjiro gathered the finished dishes.
Finding herself back outside, it was still cold despite the sunshine. There was no rush to do the wash, so she set it down and stared at the snow, the first she’d seen back in their mountain home in years. It was so often covered in it, and it would turn crunchy as ice in the night. Her eyes fell to a puddle in a shallow ditch next to the house.
Tanjiro noticed her standing out in the sunshine, a sight he’d never get tired of, and he went out to join her. With a deep breath, he took in all the smells of the outdoors and its fickle weather. “You’ve got such a way with Inosuke. He’d never have been so helpful back when we were in the Corp.”
“He was always helpful in his own way.”
“I guess that’s right,” Tanjiro thought back, easily calling to mind battles in the mountains and the train and how much he always relied on Inosuke, even if not for his listening ear. Tanjiro leaned back for a big breath. The first snow of the season had a refreshing scent similar to the first rain after a dry stretch. Nezuko gazed more intensely at that snowless ditch on the ground, as if summoning forth a memory buried there, her heart trying to wind time back to that moment, to find someone, hold him tightly, and take back what was ripped from her.
Inosuke had finally started to find his place among humans, Tanjiro thought, and it seemed he was finding more and more to like about it all the time. With so much to focus his energy into now, he could appreciate the calm and quiet of others’ company. Zenitsu, though. Maybe he still had some growing up to do, or perhaps he needed some more peace after all the growing up he had already done.
Whether we’re happy or not is up to us to decide. What’s important is what we’ve got in the here and now.
Nezuko had always been right about that. Tanjiro brimmed with gratitude and love for those friends and brothers, and that he was still a part of their family of four, until there arose a scent from Nezuko both like stomach acid and like a deep and empty water well.
“Nezuko? Are you sick?”
“No, I’m fine,” she reassured him as sweetly as she could, but they were too close, and Tanjiro knew her feelings too well to believe her.
Nezuko… his heart shuttered, She can't talk about everything with me either.
“You know,” he offered with a smile, “Zenitsu can be a really good listener.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“I was just thinking about how you’ve got ten more months until you give him an answer.”
Nezuko turned pink, thoroughly surprised at the direction Tanjiro took that comment. “You first, Oniichan! You’re the eldest son.”
“Ehh? Me?”
“You should hurry up and take a bride!”
“Already? That’s a lot of pressure! Maybe—maybe I should be the one going to Zenitsu for advice, huh?”
“Inosuke-san too, for that matter—aah!” she gasped and folded both hands over her mouth.
“Inosuke?”
At that moment, they heard screams from inside the house. “You have to let me come up for air, you stupid boar head!”
“Ha!! That just means you can’t maintain Total Concentration Breathing while you eat, idiot!! Weak! Now let me feed you!”
“I’ll feed myself, just help me sit up---ah!!” came a scream with the shatter of a bowl.
“Now who’s the pig!? Ha ha COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH!”
“Quick, we gotta clean this up before—AH CHOO!! AH CHOO!! UUUNNNGHH!!!”
“COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH!!”
The Kamado siblings shared a look. Their lips crinkled and cheeks puffed as though they were mirroring each other, and then they burst out laughing.
