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Hashibira Inosuke was not a man who lived by others’ expectations. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t know what they were. Of course he did, and he’d beat your head in for thinking he wasn’t smart enough to understand. Either way, he took pride in it. He was raised by the boars, and he followed their rules of strength above all and those he encountered out in the wilderness were much the same, especially those Demon Slayers with their weird swords and sometimes impressive strength. He didn’t understand how these two weaklings he found himself alongside made their way into their ranks. Zenitsu was a coward afraid of his own shadow and Tanjiro.. Tanjiro was weird. Inosuke couldn’t understand how someone could be so strong and so weak. His skill with the sword was impressive, though not as impressive as Inosuke of course. Physical and emotional strength were supposed to go hand in hand, you didn’t survive in the forest if you could not fight back against the fellow beasts, either due to cowardice or a lack of skill, but Tanjiro stood in infuriatingly gentle opposition to that. What warrior beheads their enemy and then sheds genuine tears over their death?
He was taken back to the moment by the bastard himself’s voice, saying something he didn’t understand. “What was that, Tanjimin?” He didn’t give others the satisfaction of letting them know he knew his name. It told others that he was too far above them to remember. It wasn’t that he couldn’t remember. Inosuke was a man above flaws, a natural warrior leader.
Tanjiro took in a breath to speak and then sighed and smiled wearily. “Mr. Rengoku got us bento. We should eat while things are calm and we still can.”
Inosuke nodded and then went back to looking out the window. Tanjiro silently sat down across from him and gently put a box on his lap. Inosuke looked over and saw Tanjiro eating, seemingly minding his own business. It did something to him when Tanjiro did things like this. He couldn’t put a name on what he was doing or the feeling it gave, but it gave this warm, fuzzy feeling. Like warm fireflies buzzing in his stomach that floated up into his head, burning his cheeks. He wanted to blame it on that weird flame breathing thing he was going on about but others did it too, it was just that Tanjiro kept doing it to him and he added some strength to those fireflies. That gentle warm glow would sometimes turn into flame, roasting his cheeks, causing the fireflies lodged in his stomach to be worked up into a frenzy, frantically trying to escape the flame.
He needed to do something to extinguish this flame. He lifted up his mask and shoveled the food into his mouth. Tanjiro was still slowly eating his food so once Inosuke finished his, he grabbed a handful of his food. He needed to show that the weakling’s fireflies weren’t getting to him. Tanjiro just gave that same weary smile and held out his box to let him take more. Inosuke huffed and pulled his mask back down.
The day dragged on into night and the night brought with it a wave of peaceful sleep across the train. He tried to fight it, stay awake and keep an eye on this beast he was in, but those damn warm fireflies made a nice warm feeling in his stomach and he fell asleep. He dreamed of a cave, of teammates that followed him as their strong leader, who also followed the rules of the beasts in the forest, taking the masks of those creatures that had raised them. There were places to explore so they did, there were beasts to conquer and he bravely led the charge. At one point, things died down and he went to his place of rest, a far larger and comfier alcove of the cave than the one below, where his underlings rested so he could keep an eye on them. He spent his life looking for one fight after the other, but now he was content knowing that this cave was full of monsters to fight and test his strength against. He always won, but he was always fighting, the cave making him work for his well- deserved victories.
Time came for him to rest on his laurels in the most literal of senses. He laid down in a bed he didn’t remember making, consisting of torn pelts of slain enemies and loose foliage. It felt like a home that no longer belonged to him, of a time when he was in a pack. He suddenly missed the warmth of the boars company, the snoring and snorting that lulled him to sleep. Society was usually far too quiet and the city was too loud in all the wrong ways. As if summoned by his thoughts, Ponjiro silently came up to his side. The tanuki version of his comrade, no his friend, came up to him and sat down on the edge of his makeshift bed. The other boy reached out a hand and slowly stroked Inosuke’s mask, with a touch that somehow made it to his hair and began humming a soft song. The warm fireflies returned. “Why..” Inosuke’s voice trailed off. He was struggling to keep himself awake.
“This is what I used to do for my siblings when they couldn’t sleep.” Ponjiro explained. His voice didn’t have that tinge of sadness that it did whenever he talked about his siblings, his eyes free of the bittersweet tears that always welled up when he talked about them.
When the group discussed their dreams later, Inosuke always said it was the fact that they were too strong, too loyal, that made him realize this was too good to be true. He never admitted that reality began to return to him when he noticed these feelings. That was a concept that he was above.
When Inosuke awoke on the train, it was far after Tanjiro. The cold seat where his warmth had been felt harsh and unsettling. He stood up and grabbed his blades with his best war cry. It was time for blood to be shed and for a demon’s head to roll. And perhaps for him to chase after those warm fireflies.