Work Text:
Lost and Found
“Father! Senjuro! I’ve lost my key, is anyone home?!”
Leaning out from the apartment’s balcony, Tanjiro glanced around curiously for whose voice had cut through the tranquil evening. Such commotion was rare, especially at this hour.
“Hmph! What terrible luck!” the voice exclaimed, echoing in the chilly air.
Bundled in a puffy red and white coat with a flame-patterned, pom-pommed toque, a man stood with his arms crossed facing the building’s front door. To Tanjiro it looked like he was posing like some action hero and he smiled at first, chuckling softly. A whisper of deja-vu ghosted through his mind but he dismissed it; some character in a show he’d watched must have done something similar.
He glanced down as he felt a droplet land on his hand, then up to the sky. The stars wavered in the darkness and Tanjiro touched his face as he realized tears were spilling over his cheeks. His heart began pounding and a growing tightness slowly crushed his lungs. Tanjiro clutched his chest, panting and suddenly unable to get enough air as an indescribable echo of an anguish immemorial dragged him to his knees.
As quickly as it had set in, the profound grief faded and left him drawing shuddering breaths while staring bewildered through the balcony railing. He looked up through a tree’s bare branches at the man, now talking on his phone.
The neighboring house was one of the oldest in the area, some said dating back over five hundred years. Others claimed more, but none seemed certain. Tanjiro had never paid much attention before, but now something about it, and especially the man at the front step, seemed of paramount importance.
“—hour? In Chiba? Hm! Alright then, I’ll wait here until you all return. Please take care, see you later!”
Tanjiro sniffled and dried the tears as he rose, brushing snow from his pants and immensely grateful the feeling had passed. His curiosity was burning, but Tanjiro was quite shaken by the terrifying sense of loss and he thought it would be best to go lie down. Maybe tomorrow he could pay a visit to the family there. Perhaps they would share some of the history with him.
Inside his apartment was dark as usual but Tanjiro found himself rushing to turn the light on, patting at the wall almost frantically and scanning the room while his heart hammered. What the hell was going on with him? The dark hadn’t bothered him since he was a child. Tanjiro felt his forehead for a fever as he hung his courier bag on the hook. He felt fine, aside from the obvious, but just in case, he took the thermometer from the bathroom and sat down with a glass of water.
As he expected, his temperature was normal.
An odd, insistent tugging sensation had Tanjiro rolling his shoulders and adjusting his collar. He realized he hadn’t taken his jacket off, it must have slipped awkwardly when he sat down.
His thoughts returned to his neighbor. Tanjiro wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but the guy’s voice carried quite clearly. A fond smile tugged his lips, confusing him further. He frowned, brow knitting. Surely he’d never met him before, and even if he had, it would’ve had to have been briefly - perhaps he came to the bakery once? - but there was no reason he should feel so endeared. He took a contemplative sip of his water.
Regardless, Tanjiro had a big heart and the thought of anyone stranded in the cold did not sit well with him. He’d bring something warm to him, coffee or tea. Maybe miso soup, and one or two of the pastries he’d brought from work.
Tanjiro set his glass on the kotatsu and left his jacket on the sofa, bouncing off to the kitchen eager to do something normal and dispel some of the strangeness of the evening.
Around fifteen minutes later he had a thermos of soup, one croissant and an imagawayaki packed neatly in a small Kamado Bakery box that had been hanging around a cabinet for a while. Feeling accomplished and more excited than he expected to meet his mystery neighbor, Tanjiro pulled his jacket on and stepped back into the cold evening.
He found himself on the verge of jogging once he’d descended the stairs and gone a few meters down the sidewalk. Tanjiro slowed, not wanting to slip on hidden ice, but his feet had a mind of their own and he gave in to a brisk pace. His hand felt warm, but he didn’t think much of it. It was probably just the thermos.
There used to be a wall partitioning off a larger area around the estate, one of the random tidbits he knew about it, but only a portion of the front wall on either side of the gate remained despite the spread of urbanization.
Tanjiro stumbled to a halt as the gate came into view. His vision swam and unbidden tears were welling and falling once more. A hollowness, familiar in an awful way, rendered his chest a void that felt like it could never be filled. Tanjiro’s eyes darted up and around in search of some sort of cause or reason, frightened, and angry at some undefined injustice, unfairness.
His gaze caught on a broom propped against the corner of the gate’s door.
A broom in the hands of a boy, barely younger than himself, with the same fiery hair - the same eyes as….
Tanjiro collapsed to his knees and sobbed into his hands. What the hell was this…? Why all the sudden were these feelings, and now images—
Memories…
He gasped, staring wide-eyed at his tear-stained—
Scarred
Battered
Tortured
—palms. A red string, brilliant and sparkling with what looked like embers flickering through the threads wound messily around his hand and forearm. The end of the length tangled in his fingers dipped through the space between Tanjiro and the man who had come to the gate to see what was wrong.
Tanjiro gasped. His arm glowed, entangled from hand to bicep with the same string as if he’d been pulling and winding trying to find the end for quite some time.
“Yomoya!” The neighbor hurried over and knelt in front of Tanjiro, tugging his scarf down. “Are you alright? Have you fallen, are you injured?”
Tanjiro’s lip trembled and he shook his head. Warmth radiated from the man like a hearth, his beautiful red-gold eyes both haunting and captivating.
“Can you stand? Let me help you.”
His voice welled with more concern than one might have for a stranger.
“I… think I know you, somehow.” Tanjiro whispered. The hollow feeling was gone.
The man’s breath caught, foggy plume dissipating as he froze and stared wide-eyed at Tanjiro. The surrounding trees’ frozen branches crackled delicately as a breeze swept through the street fluttering Tanjiro’s earrings
“Do you?” He breathed, hope and longing trembling in his voice.
Tanjiro nodded with a watery smile, swiping away tears as he raised his entwined left hand. In place of the hollowness in his chest, a blaze, strong and ardent, kindled in his soul and settled there as if it had never left.
The string now glowed with a golden aura and embers flickered along its length as if it were ablaze.
Kyojuro extended his right hand toward Tanjiro and the string shivered with dancing flames, unraveling from their arms and winding together to form a sturdy cord with no visible beginning or end secure around both of their wrists. He laced their fingers together, cupping Tanjiro’s face reverently and caressing his thumb over his round cheek.
Fresh tears, joyful this time, welled up and Tanjiro leaned into his warm touch. They rested their foreheads together, noses just brushing as glittering drops rained between them.
“I’ve found you, my boy.” Kyojuro murmured.
“I always knew you would, Rengoku-san.”