Work Text:
Zenitsu's very first memory is of his mother abandoning him.
There were muddied memories of sounds and blurs of colour beforehand, but nothing cohesive enough to grasp onto. It was like trying to see through waves to the ocean floor. There was perhaps a glimpse of something every once in a while, but more often than not it was drowned in the turbulent tide.
He didn't remember what his mother looked like, only her sound. Her voice was high and honey-sweet as she told him to stay by the train station and wait for her, but underneath was a sound like rice boiling over in a pot. He hadn't known what the sound was as a toddler, just that it was the sound of his mother, that it was familiar and it comforted him in some twisted way. It was the sound of deception and annoyance and anger, but it was all he had heard since birth, so he had to learn to love it. He had nothing else.
He cried and tugged on the sleeve of her yukata, begging her not to leave him because the city was too large and too loud and he was afraid. She hissed at him to stop making a scene, hissed like the whistle of the steam train, and as she walked away she sounded like relief.
She left Zenitsu in the train station and she never came back. He had stayed for a week, bearing the roar of the trains and the clamour of the crowd and the whine of the electric lights, hoping that his mother would come back like she promised.
Eventually, the station master made him leave. Some of the passengers had been kind and offered him food, but most were annoyed by the crying child who had made his temporary home on the platform. The station master was especially annoyed, since the passengers' complaints came to him.
The streets of the city were less loud than the station, but more chaotic. Even at night the city was never quiet. Zenitsu stayed near the station in case his mother came back.
After a few days, an old woman took pity on Zenitsu. She ran an orphanage nearby. It was dirty and overflowing with children, but there was food and shelter and Zenitsu was safer there than on the streets. He learned a few things from the older kids there, such as the name of the city: Shinjuku. He also learned how to steal without getting caught and how to beg for money on the streets. This would come in handy after the orphanage got shut down when the old lady died.
For the next couple of years, Zenitsu tried his hardest to survive. He was fascinated by the musicians who played on the street sometimes. He would sit in awe as he listened to the music playing. It was something to ground him, something to anchor himself to amid the chaos of sound in the city.
He wished, more than anything, that he could play an instrument too.
The first time he got into real trouble was when he was listening to a young man play the shamisen. Zenitsu listened, crouching down in an alley nearby as he ate a stolen imagawayaki. This had been very difficult to steal. The stall owner was very observant, but Zenitsu finally found an opening and ran away with one of the sweet buns, even though it burned his hand a little.
He savoured the treat. It wasn't often he got to eat something so sweet, so he celebrated his steal by listening to the music while he munched away, temporarily sating the emptiness of his stomach.
The music was so pretty. He closed his eyes, savouring the sweetness in his mouth and in his ears. He wished every day could be like today. The only thing that could make today better would be if he could be the one playing the instrument. He wondered, if he had one, would people notice him? Would they appreciate the sound of the music? Would they see him as something other than a lost, homeless orphan?
At some point his appreciation of the music turned into plans to steal it.
He watched closely for several days as the man strummed away at the shamisen, occasionally getting money from passers-by who stopped to listen.
At some point, he saw an opening. The man set down the instrument so he could turn to talk to someone inside the building he sat in front of. Zenitsu had never run faster in his life. He grasped the instrument and zipped away, running into one of the many alleyways he had made sure to map out for this very moment. When he was far enough away that he didn't hear any pursuers, he sank to the ground and gazed at the instrument.
It was more beautiful and more expensive than anything he had ever held. He giggled to himself, the happiness he felt erupting out of him.
He arranged himself just as he watched the man sit. Unfortunately, he didn't grab the bachi, but he strummed with his fingers instead.
Something inside Zenitsu soared as the first few notes sounded under his thin fingers. This was what he was made to do, he could feel it!
Each note hung in the air like fog. He remembered the song the man played when he sat there the first day, eating a sweet bun. He had never played an instrument before, but his fingers knew the tune. He closed his eyes, cocooned himself in the melody. The sound it made was like rain falling on the pavement, rippling on puddles and scattering on rooftops.
Somewhere in the middle of the song, he changed it, feeling the tempo increase as he played to his heart's content- a tune that was angry and hurt and erratic. The sound that came from himself, when he decided to listen.
"Kid!"
Zenitsu screamed and jumped to his feet. The man he had stolen the shamisen from stood before him, alongside another who was very very tall and very very muscular and unfortunately very very angry.
"I'm sorry!" Zenitsu wailed, bowing low and crying like he always did when he was caught stealing. Usually people found the sight so pathetic they didn't even beat him up. And if they did, they just decided his crying was too head-ache inducing and left him with only a few bruises.
"Give it back!" The man held his hand out. Zenitsu very quickly gave the shamisen back to its original owner, feeling like he was giving away a piece of himself only newly discovered.
"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! PLEASE DON'T BEAT ME! I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!" The men in front of Zenitsu actually stepped back in surprise when he started shouting. He could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate.
"OI! CALM DOWN!" The really tall guy shouted. It worked for a second. Zenitsu's tears stopped and he stared at him in fear, but then he just started bawling harder.
Somehow, those guys actually gave Zenitsu a job. He wasn't sure how it happened, considering he cried so hard his ears started to ring and he gave himself a headache, but the next thing he knew, he was out on the street playing music for a living, along with the man whose shamisen he stole: Sazama Tetsu. He and the very tall man, who just wanted to be called Masahira, owned a kabuki theater which was slowly falling apart. Apparently, they were raising money via busking so they could repair the theater and start holding plays again.
Tetsu and Masahira weren't mean to Zenitsu, but they weren't nice either. He had food and shelter, but he didn't have companionship. The two men ignored him unless he was giving them the money he had earned during the day, but that's okay! He wasn't sleeping on the streets anymore, and the whole playing music thing was nice, even if Masahira sometimes forced him to play when he was sick or until his fingers began to bleed.
Zenitsu just felt useful for once. The smiles the two men gave him when he showed them all the coin he earned at the end of the day made him happy, even if he knew they were smiling at the money and not at him.
They had the same rumble in their sounds that his mother did, but he ignored it, once again. They wanted him around for now. He needed this warmth, even if he knew it came from flames waiting to burn him. He would jump into the fire again and again if it meant he wouldn't have to be so alone.
They made enough money to fix the theater and hire some actors. Zenitsu spent much of that summer helping the men sand down the wooden stage and learning about acting. He was the only kid in the theater, so they made him do really scary things like putting up the old curtains, since he was the only one who could stand on the rafters without breaking them. He threw a fit about it, but he did it anyways, happy to be a part of something.
The first show the theater would put on was one which Masahira wrote and Tetsu composed. Zenitsu didn't understand most of it, but the lead actor, Sen, just patted his head and said he would get it when he was older. Zenitsu felt like nine years old is old enough to know anything, but Sen only laughed and repeated himself.
Zenitsu made sure to memorise all the words so he would remember it when he was old enough.
The night of the very first show was fantastic. Zenitsu watched in awe as the swirling colours of the clothing and the scenery shone under the stage lights. He listened as the music accented the dramatic scenes, and as the actors drew out their words to exaggerate their meanings.
Ultimately, the show was not a success. The second night, the theater was nearly empty. The third night, Zenitsu was one of only two people in the audience, the other being Sen's sister. The fourth night, even she did not show up. The theater lost a lot of money and closed down again. All the actors left to find better theaters, the musicians did the same, and Tetsu and Masahira took all the money they had saved away and left for another part of Tokyo.
Zenistu should have seen it coming. He did see it coming, but it didn't hurt any less to be abandoned. He stayed in the empty theater at night and went back to stealing during the days.
One afternoon, he found a dusty, broken old koto sitting in a closet in the theater. He fixed it up as well as he could and went out performing in the streets again. He made enough money to get food most of the time, but he was alone, so he could not be happy.
He began to search for someone to be friends with. Nothing worked out in terms of making friends with boys. They just called him names and beat him up and laughed when he cried. So he tried to be friends with girls instead. They were more understanding, but he knew he could hear annoyance in their hearts even as they spoke kindly to him.
At some point, for a reason he didn't understand, Zenitsu began to really notice girls. He liked their soft voices and their pretty clothes and the way they did their hair. He felt like he could stare at girls all day. The thing he liked most was the way he felt when they looked at him or talked to him. It made him all warm and flustered, and his heart beat so fast it could explode.
It was like if his anxiety felt good instead of scary.
He spent each day playing his koto, and some days girls talked to him! Those days were the best, especially when they were girls who were now little older than him, girls who were starting to look like women, girls who had-
Well, it was too embarrassing to think about, but of course he was going to start noticing things like that! Especially when they leaned down to put money in the little cup beside his koto…
Just looking wasn't enough. He was still so lonely, so desperate for someone, anyone, to stay by his side and not abandon him.
He knew, from watching older couples, that there was this wonderful thing called marriage, where a boy and a girl fall in love and promise to stay together no matter what. It clicked for Zenitsu, that that was all he had ever wanted. To love, to be loved, and to know that he would never be alone again.
So, Zenitsu started asking literally every girl in sight to marry him. Some of them just laughed, thinking he was joking, others yelled at him and hit him for being creepy. Some gently let him down, but he could hear the disgust pounding in their hearts. It made him feel like an asshole. But he couldn't stop, it was like an addiction, or some foolish hope that one day, someone out there would say yes.
One day, he approached a group of girls and brought out his usual charms and flirtations (that just means crying and yelling, but it is like, waaaay cooler in Zenitsu's head). They all giggled, watching his pathetic endearing display of affection towards the prettiest girl in the group.
She was taller than Zenitsu, and older. Her hair was pinned up with a red bow and she was wearing an orange kimono that suited her very well, if you were to ask Zenitsu. She had a kind, slightly amused smile plastered on her face, but her sound bubbled and boiled that same, familiar way.
This wouldn't last, but Zenitsu was so desperate, he didn't care if he got hurt in the future, as long as he felt good now.
"Hmmm… I think marriage is a little too far. How 'bout we date first?" The girl asked. Her friends giggled behind their hands. Zenitsu knew he was being made fun of.
His first girlfriend was named Harumi. Zenitsu thought she was the most beautiful girl on the whole Earth. He told her such on their first date. He had saved up enough money to buy her dinner from an udon stall (there wasn't enough money for him to have a meal, but that's okay because love is sacrifice, right?) Then, they walked to a park nearby.
Zenitsu held out his hand for Harumi to hold, just like he saw other couples do, but she refused to hold his hand. That was fine with him, she just wanted to take it slow. He could do that, but still, he wished she would stand closer to him at least, or not sound so disgusted.
She sounded guilty too. It was a sound like metal scraping metal that hurt his heart to listen to. Why did she sound guilty?
"Agatsuma," Hatumi suddenly stopped. He told her she could use his given name, but she stuck to his family name.
"Hmm, are you alright?" Zenitsu reached for her hands again but she pulled away, her dark eyes refusing to look at him.
"I- look- tonight was fun, and I kind of feel bad now but I want to be honest with you," She started, fidgeting with the sleeves of her kimono. Zenitsu could already feel dread settling in the pit of his stomach. "I only came because my friend dared me to say yes, and because I wanted free food. So, sorry, I guess."
"So-" Zenitsu took a moment to process what she said. "You don't- you don't like me, then?"
"No one does."
Ouch, that really hurt. Zenitsu could feel his eyes filling with tears, and dammit, he didn't want to cry here! Not now! He just wanted something to go right for once in his life. "That- that was really mean," Zenitsu sniffled out.
"I'm just letting you know how it is. Literally every girl in my neighbourhood knows about you and we all warn each other away. Maybe if you stopped being so loud and pushy people would like you better."
"I know that!" Zenitsu's shout drew a few stares from others in the park. "I know I'm loud and pushy and annoying and I cry all the time! I know no one likes me! But I keep trying because I thought maybe someone would say yes someday- but- I may be a crybaby and a creep and whatever other names you've all assigned me, but you are worse! You agreed to do this so you could bully me and make me pay for your food! So yeah, maybe I am loud and pushy, but you are just a really cruel person."
Harumi looked shocked at the outburst, and Zenitsu could hear the anger rumbling from within her. Her eyes darkened and she pushed him down as she walked past him, stomping into the night.
Zenitsu's girl troubles did not end there, unfortunately. Natsuko, Izumi, Suki, Ren, Suzume, Chiyo, Kasumi, Hana, Usagi- he fell for it every time. He kept trusting the sounds of deception and annoyance. Maybe he was naive, maybe he was stupid, maybe he was some kind of masochist. He knew each time that he would end up burned, but he threw himself into the fire again and again, wishing it would warm him for just a while longer.
(Sometimes he wondered if he trusted that sound because it was so similar to the sound of his mother, the sound of the only person who had ever been his family. Maybe that is just what he thought family is supposed to sound like).
When Zenitsu met Emi, though, he thought for once that it might last. She had that sound, but she treated him differently. She didn't try to embarrass him like Izumi did, or hit him like Ren, or scream at him like Suzume. Usually, Zenitsu was the one paying for everything with his last girlfriends, but Emi bought him things too. She paid for their ramen on their second date, and she bought Zenitsu a scarf during the winter months when she noticed how his thin yukata, torn in some places, wasn't keeping him warm. She even helped him sew up some of the holes with neat little stitches that Zenitsu would run his fingers over when he was lonely in the abandoned theater during the nights and missed her.
She was much older than Zenitsu, being sixteen while he was only twelve. He should've known just from that that she would leave him too, after all, what sixteen year old wants to be with a twelve year old? Her family was really pushing for her to get married as she was now of suitable age to. Zenitsu hoped she would accept him, as he had already proposed to Emi, and she was his fiancée now, but she told him her parents required a few things from a potential suitor.
She needed a lot of money. Already, Zenitsu was in a bit of debt from his previous girlfriends, but the amount Emi was asking for was almost outrageous. Still, Zenitsu would do it for her. He would do anything for her if she asked it of him.
What was money but an obstacle to get in the way of his perfect life with the girl he loved? He would find a way to pay it back, he was sure. He even sold his beloved koto, because Emi meant more to him than all the music in the world.
Only Emi had been deceiving him. She took all the money and ran off with another man, a man who was handsome and strong and successful and everything Zenitsu wasn't.
He knew it was coming, but it hurt so much worse than any of the other girls leaving him, because Emi put in the work to make their relationship believable. He really thought she loved him.
The debt collectors found him very quickly. He hadn't even bothered to attempt to hide this time. Usually, he attempted an escape or made some excuses or empty promises, but this time he hardly put up a fight. Not that it would've mattered if he did. The debt collectors were giants of men and Zenitsu was still a kid, so it was very unfair to begin with.
Usually, the debt collectors (who he had been calling Nob-head and Half-wit to himself) just roughed him around a bit and threatened him, but this time Half-wit grabbed him and flung him over his shoulder.
He couldn't believe it! He was getting kidnapped!
"Oi, put me down!" Zenitsu shouted, struggling for real this time. Then he just started screaming as loud as he could. Surely this would be enough to wake everyone up? But, there was no one out on the streets, not even any drunks stumbling home. No, it was too early and far too cold for any sensible person to be out in this weather.
"HELP! HELP! I'M BEING KIDNAPPED!" Zenitsu screamed, banging his fists on Half-wit's upper back and kicking his chest with his feet.
"Quiet!" Nob-head hissed, clenching a fist and waving it near Zenitsu's face- a clear threat of violence.
This only made Zenitsu sob and scream harder.
"Make him shut up, he's screaming right in my ears!" Half-wit hissed.
"What d'ya want me to do? Hit him 'till he blacks out?"
"Actually yes. That would be appreciated."
Zenitsu woke up with the WORST headache he'd ever had. It was bad enough to make him disoriented and confused.
"You overdid it."
" Me ? You suggested it!"
"Is he dead?"
"I'm not checking. Remember last month when we came to collect? He pretended to faint and then he bit me. I thought I'd never stop bleeding!"
Now that Zenitsu was awake, he could hear the two debt collectors arguing. He actually didn't remember biting Nob-head. He thought they just left after he fainted since he woke up alone.
Zenitsu tried to be inconspicuous as he lifted himself up onto his knees, but the debt collectors saw him and Nob-head tackled him to the ground with way more force than was necessary.
"AGH!" Zenitsu spluttered as he hit the ground. He took a look at his surroundings. They were definitely in the sketchy part of town, where the streets were still made of dirt and where absolutely no one would come to help if they saw a kid getting beat up by debt collectors.
Zenitsu realised now that there was a third man, Sato-san, towering over him from the engawa of the large house they were in front of. His wife stood beside him. These were the criminals he borrowed money from. He couldn't get a loan from any reputable people because he was just a kid with no money, family, or home, but the smugglers he borrowed from didn't care. They only cared he pay it back.
Which he didn't.
Zenitsu gulped when he made eye contact with Sato-san. He sounded furious. Probably furious enough to end Zenitsu's life over this matter.
So Zenitsu did what he did best, he cried. He wailed and screamed and shouted apologies, hoping that if he was loud enough, he could drown out the sound of murderous rage coming from Sato.
None of that mattered anyways, Sato just ordered his henchmen to hold Zenitsu down while he kicked and punched him and his wife looked on in curious horror.
Zenitsu had suffered through his fair share of beatings throughout his rather short life, but this was by far the worst. He could hear his wrist crack as Sato stomped down on it with his heavy wooden sandals. He could feel blood running into his mouth from his nose.
It only stopped when an old man shouted at them that he would buy Zenitsu's debt. Sato and his men dropped Zenitsu down in front of the older gentleman. The boy only curled in on himself and sobbed, wondering what was going to happen to him next. People don't just go doing nice things for people without wanting something in return. People especially didn't do nice things for Zenitsu.
Jigoro felt pity for the poor boy, shaking and snivelling as he curled into a ball. He looked pretty injured, cradling his wrist in one hand, blood pouring from his nose. Wide, scared eyes the colour of amber stared up at him, begging silently not to hurt him.
"Stand up, my boy," Jigoro ordered, helping him to his feet. He swayed as he stood, looking like the wind could blow him over. He shivered again, and Jigoro wondered if it was from fear or the cold. His dark green yukata was threadbare, torn, and dirty, so it certainly wasn't keeping him warm.
"What is your name?" Jigoro asked, walking along the street. The boy followed after, slow and unsteady. Jigoro slowed his pace to avoid losing him.
He didn't answer, just stared with those giant, alarmed eyes, like he was afraid if he spoke Jigoro would eat him.
"I will go first, then. My name is Kuwajima Jigoro, and from now on, you will be my pupil."
"Agatsuma Zenitsu," the boy answered. Now, if Jigoro's other student, Kaigaku, had given such a short answer, Jigoro would've assumed it was out of rude teenage annoyance, but it looked like Zenitsu answered with only his name because he was struggling so hard to hold back tears that if he said anything else he would've started sobbing.
Jigoro got Zenitsu's story on the walk to the train station, in between bouts of crying and falling to the ground. When he wasn't crying on the ground, he was crying on Jigoro and grabbing onto his haori with his good hand like he would float away without it.
He wondered if it was a good idea for him to take on a new student, but he thought back to how Zenitsu looked when he was being beaten, and he knew he couldn't have just left him there. He could sense that Zenitsu had a good, kind heart. That was what was needed in a demon slayer, not strength or speed or bravery, but a heart.
And perhaps his newest student had a little too much of that.
Jii-chan (Zenitsu refused to call him anything else) led him to the train station. The same station his mother had left him at, the same station where his life had begun, really. Now he was back to the whistles of steam and roar of engines, clamour of crowds and whine of lights. Back to the beginning, and on to a new one. Hopefully a more fortunate one, he still wasn't sure what Jii-chan wanted of him.
But he trusted the old man already. He didn't have that boiling-over sound inside of him. He didn't sound ready to burst in anger. His sound was like the rustle of leaves in the wind. It made him want to cry.
How could someone with such a kind sound decide to be around him?
The train ride was strange. Zenitsu was very familiar with the outside of trains, but he could not ever remember being inside one. He watched the city zoom by in a blur of colour and lights, and open up to wide fields and the beautiful countryside that Zenitsu couldn't believe he had never seen before. To think that outside the city there was so much quiet, so much open space, like a sea of fields stretching as far as the eye could see.
"Where are you taking me?" Zenitsu asked, still watching the scenery flash by. He was imagining a little man jumping around and keeping pace with the train to keep himself from getting bored.
"I live in a village in the mountains," Jii-chan responded. "It will be different from what you are used to, I'm sure. My house has a peach orchard in the backyard. I hope you will like that."
The train ride was rather long, so Jii-chan helped Zenitsu clean the blood off his face and wrap his wrist. It wasn't broken, he said, just cracked. Zenitsu didn't like how either of those sounded but he was too tired to complain.
The train stopped at a station in a small town. The two got off and Jii-chan left him up the mountain to his house. When Zenitsu saw it, his jaw dropped. The peach orchard was beautiful! He could hear birds singing from the trees and the rustle of leaves. It was nice to finally be able to hear without the buzz of city noise muffling everything. The peaches weren't in season, but the trees were beautiful still. Nestled close to the orcahrd was a huge house. It looked like a mansion to Zenitsu.
"Welcome home, Zenitsu."