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His chest heaves with every painful breath, his body still shaking with rage after throwing his sword as Akaza’s form dashed into the trees. After yelling, wailing at the top of his lungs.
His sight is blurred by an overspill of streaming tears, and it is most apparent when he slowly turns to take in Rengoku. The wet film over his crimson eyes make the yellow and vermillion shades of Rengoku’s hair appear like streaks as they mix with the light of the sun peeking over the mountains. His features muddy, rendering him a blur of flames.
His flames were roaring, active and hot only minutes before. But this flame…
Contrary to the constant motion and thinking that transpired throughout all of the violence of the evening past, it is so, so quiet now… his flame burns still as he smiles, but it flickers faintly.
Rengoku is still here, but not for much longer… and Tanjiro is absolutely wrecked with this realization. And his own absolute uselessness weighs heavily on top of it all.
Tanjiro's grief for this man… this man who once called for the death of himself and his sister, yet offered to be his mentor and accepted Nezuko as a comrade in combat in such a short span of time…. this man who ate so heartily, protected everybody, and defended someone as weak as him… who still smiles even as his light gradually diminishes from his body…
This grief feels out of Tanjiro’s control. Nearly ungovernable.
If the early morning birds whistled and sang at the sun's arrival, it went unnoticed by him. The crumpled boy heard only the sounds of his own despair, his own crippling impotence. And now the gentle cadence of Rengoku's voice as he began to speak.
So despite his condition -his aching chest and stomach and the breaths he struggles to control- Tanjiro tries his best to take in the last words flowing out of the Harisha's lips.
“I am going to die soon… “
Die. The word wretches a sob out of him.
“I want you to tell… my little brother Senjuro… to take the path he thinks is right and to follow his heart… and tell my father… to take care of himself.”
Rengoku's voice is soft as he speaks. Tanjiro listens and commits these precious words to memory, but he also cannot help but to think about how he misses his volume and charisma from hours before… already mourning the loss of a future where he could witness and engage with that overwhelming presence often and intimately...
He even thinks to regret his brief thought from the night before that Rengoku was maybe a bit too excited about the food he was eating.
To think it would be the last meal he ate.
Tanjiro continues to listen as Rengoku speaks words of praise and affirmation about Nezuko and tears well up again, spilling over in large drops down his cheeks, leaving salt on his lips.
“Stand tall and be proud… no matter how weak or unworthy you feel, set your heart ablaze!”
Rengoku was using the last of his energy to praise and affirm them… Tanjiro’s chest welled up with gratitude as he cried. He’ll keep these words burning in his heart, won't forget them for the rest of his life.
"Don’t worry that I will die here… I am a Hashira. It is my job to shield my juniors. Any Hashira would do the same. We never let the young buds get nipped."
Air is in abundance all around but, Gods, it feels like his lungs are rejecting all of it. He doesn't want any of it. He wants all of it to flow towards Rengoku, for it to miraculously save him somehow.
"I believe in you."
A fistful of pebbles lodge in his throat as the sun rises higher, shines brighter.
It arrives as if to take Rengoku Kyojuro away…
Through the film of tears puddling in his eyes, Rengoku suddenly looks so, so distinct now despite the blur. The sun envelops the back of him and seems to make his remaining visible eye glow. It is as if the light from the man's soul burned even now, as the life within him grew dimmer and dimmer.
Tanjiro recalls Rengoku's words about the beauty in a human's fleeting nature. But it isn't his time to go yet!
He's a young bud himself! Someone should have protected him, too!
He needs to tell his little brother himself to follow his heart! He needs to see the fruit of his sacrifices. He needs to see a world without demons. He has a full life ahead of him! Bounds of more food to smile about. Beautiful smiles to grace upon the lucky people around him…
And Tanjiro cannot do anything.
Words no longer flowed out of the pillar's lips and Tanjiro could not help but tear his gaze away to cry into his hands.
He can't do anything.
The world is still and silent. As if stopping all sound and unnecessary movement to afford courtesy for Rengoku's departure and Tanjiro's grief.
"Did I do everything right? Was I able to fulfill everything I was supposed to carry out?"
The words interrupt his moment of weakness and Tanjiro notices that while the words are directed his way, the pillar's remaining eye -which nearly lost its remaining luster- is gazing at something more distant. He isn't speaking to him anymore, he realizes.
His look is desperate, pleading. He looks to be just a boy. Seeking affirmation for his efforts, as a child would.
Tanjiro feels a great urge to answer him, reassure him, praise him.
But he allows the moment to pass and through his tears, he watches as Rengoku closes his remaining eye and as his lips melt into a smile again; Though his face is marred with blood, it is the most beautiful and pure smile Tanjiro has ever seen and it leaves him breathless.
His chest suddenly fills with a great surge of affection, a tender feeling he almost didn't know what to do with.
It urges him forward, exhaustion and the heaviness in his chest forgotten, the pain in his abdomen nonexistent.
Kneeling upright beside him, he gingerly wraps his arms around Rengoku's form in an all-encompassing embrace, gently molding himself around his fragile form. Tanjiro consciously avoids what remained of Akaza’s old arm jutting out of Rengoku as he holds him in his arms.
He pays no mind to the demon’s remnant and refuses to allow it to anger him. He also pays no mind to question if Rengoku is breathing anymore, or if his heart is still faintly beating or not. Or if he smelled of life or death.
He simply rests his tear-stained cheek on top of the bed of his golden hair; it remains vibrant in the light of the sun, and he cherishes that he is still warm.
"You did perfectly," Tanjiro says into his hair as he strokes the other side of his head softly with his left hand, the other still wound tenderly around him.
He doesn't know how he mustered the words, but he takes advantage of his resolve to comfort Kyojuro as he holds him close and caresses his hair. As he thinks about how he wishes he had the strength to protect him. The thought wrings a sob from his chest and he only holds Rengoku for a few more moments. Before it feels like too much. Before he could shed his tears all over him.
The sun rose higher still, blanketing the young pillar in sunlight, warming him as his blood went cold. Preparing him for departure.
—
The last thing Kyojuro Rengoku was consciously comforted by was a pair of soft red eyes, a gentle voice, and a warm embrace before the rising sun called him home.