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Zenitsu had a positive first impression of Tanjirou. He was kind, strong, dependable and good. Too good. It was like he didn't have a speck of darkness inside him. Zenitsu found it admirable, considering what he's been through.
As time went by, that admiration slowly turned into annoyance. Sometimes it felt like his kind words were a twisted form of mockery; that his compassion was self-centered; that his empathy was a way for him to advance—towards whatever he had in mind.
Tanjirou had gentle eyes, according to others. Bullshit. Zenitsu didn't buy it. Something felt off about them. It completely threw him off to the point where he couldn't function around the other boy. His stare would haunt him, both awake and in his sleep.
Zenitsu was normally anxious, cowardly in his behavior and afraid of most things that could pose any form of danger. It was nothing new. However, it got ten times worse after meeting Tanjirou. It was like the boy intensified all his senses, keeping him on alert at all times.
It came to the point that, somewhere along their journey, Zenitsu snapped. He was tired of it—tired of this seemingly perfect ray of sunshine. It was just so ridiculous.
Zenitsu screamed at Tanjirou. He didn't care that a demon basically wiped out his whole family. He didn't care that his sister turned into a demon herself. He didn't care that he was gonna slay every single demon that roamed the earth. Most of all, he didn't care that no one was allowed to even come near his sister, and that her presence made total fucking sense. Despite her being a demon.
Of course it did. Of course it made sense. Of course there was no reason for hostility towards her. If it was only that easy, but it wasn't. It never will be. The moral line between what's right or wrong is so fucking gray. It gave Zenitsu a headache.
He was fucking scared of demons. He just wanted them gone, and Tanjirou made him question that. His determination was like a form of manipulation. He hated it, and he almost hated Tanjirou for it.
Zenitsu just wished to be left alone. He couldn't stand Tanjirou. He didn't want to hear or see him—he didn't even want to be remotely close to his presence. However, the boys were part of a team. Deep down, Zenitsu knew he depended on Tanjirou. At least to be safe, if nothing else.
Tanjirou didn't understand him. Of course he wouldn't.
It started with anger. How Zenitsu dared to say those things about his family after all they had been through—after the strong companionship they had formed. How Zenitsu could say those things about his sister after being so friendly with her, not knowing that Zenitsu did it out of fear. Fear that the demon would kill him unless he was on her good side.
Tanjirou's anger turned into denial. Of course that wasn't what Zenitsu actually thought. He was annoying, but timid. He respected and admired those around him. He wouldn't say things like that. Maybe a demon affected him somehow. Or maybe he was talking in his sleep. Yes. That must be it.
Then, after having some time to contemplate—trying to process what Zenitsu said and think about his recent behavior—he came to terms with it. Accepted it. Tanjiro could feel the anger and vengeance boil inside him. Deep down within. Always threatening to spill over. Spill out.
Tanjirou tried to keep it inside, ever since his family was slaughtered. The way he acted was a coping mechanism. He blinded himself with views that prevented him from seeing the hard truth. Tanjirou wanted to approach Zenitsu about it. Wanted to be freed of the thousands of apologies he had built up inside of himself during the past weeks.
So what are the two boys supposed to do?
Tanjirou stubbornly keeps close to Zenitsu. It was a failed attempt at making conversation. Zenitsu had a fairly good idea what it was all about. He wasn't gonna let him say it—wasn't gonna let him explain. At this point his excuse would be nothing but a waste of oxygen.
Zenitsu softens along the way. He starts to see a more genuine side of Tanjirou. One that feels true. Kindness that is warm; compassion that is sincere; empathy that isn't weirdly misplaced anymore. Then Tanjirou talks, and Zenitsu let's him. Hearing his words… somehow it all makes sense. He finally understands those mysterious eyes of his. That eerie feeling when he looked into them.
Tanjirou was always looking up at the sky. Did he look for his family? Hoping to find them in that endless darkness. Or did he search for himself among the stars? Could he see beyond what other people could? Was he able to get a glimpse of the golden streets of heaven?
Did heaven even exist? They had demons on earth. So surely there has to be a hell down below. Or maybe not. Maybe the demons were a product of their own wrongdoings. Maybe they couldn't blame some evil underworld for it. Or some dark mastermind. Still. It was easier to believe there was a hell, and with that a heaven as well.
Zenitsu had no right for a place in heaven, he knew that much. No matter how many times he painted over that darkness within—he was tainted beyond repair. His former self was a faded painting neglected in the attic of a house long since abandoned. But…
Zenitsu still hopes for heaven. Not for himself, but for all those who have suffered under these dark skies. For all those he couldn't save. Most of all, for Tanjirou. For his family that died the most gruesome of deaths. So he could look up at the sky with comfort in his eyes, and not the pained expression he so desperately tried to hide.
Zenitsu would laugh at his own thoughts. He surely had gone soft for the other boy. It was fascinating indeed, the sort of power he held over those that crossed his path. Those burgundy eyes that seemed to swallow you whole.
Zenitsu doesn't forgive him—he can't forgive him—but they do start over. They give friendship another try, and along the way they grow closer. Closer than ever before. Closer than what felt humanly possible.
Maybe it was in the way he watched Tanjirou trying; trying to learn; trying to better himself; trying to change. Maybe it was due to everything they had been through. Maybe this Tanjirou was the real one. Maybe Zenitsu hadn't actually known him until now. Or maybe it was a combination of everything. Or something completely else.
Zenitsu knew that these feelings went beyond the form of a simple friendship. He knew that Tanjirou felt the same. He knew that it was so easy to just submit to those feelings. To let go of what if's and has been's. Oh how Zenitsu wanted to do just that, but he couldn't. He wasn't gonna let him in. Not yet.
Not until his sister's presence no longer sparked a fight of conflicted emotions within him. Not until he's sure that Tanjirou really changed. Not until this endless war was over.
They'll get there. Sooner or later. Hopefully. These broken children who had nowhere to go. These broken children who fought a war that wasn't theirs to fight. May heaven await them after all their pain. May their sacrifice not be for naught. Most of all, may these broken children fall in love with each other more and more. Slowly breaking the wall between them.
The golden road will be waiting for them.
Like embers after a dying fire.