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The afternoon sun cast long shadows as Genya walked with Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Muichiro, and Yuichiro down the street, each of them holding ice cream cones.
Yuichiro had a tight frown on his face, his brows furrowed in irritation. “I can’t believe your brother tore up your certificate on stage. That’s not something an older brother should do.”
Genya shifted uncomfortably. They’d been talking about the incident for the past five minutes, and though his friends meant well, he was starting to regret letting Inosuke bring it up. They had stopped at an ice cream shop near the park, and now, standing in the open air, Genya could feel his face heat with embarrassment. “It’s not a big deal,” he muttered, his eyes focused on his cone rather than on Yuichiro. “Sanemi’s… just looking out for me. He always has.”
Yuichiro snorted, clearly unimpressed. “That’s what you call looking out for you? If Muichiro ever did something like that to me-” He paused, wiping a smear of ice cream from his younger brother’s face. Muichiro had turned his head a little too quickly when he heard his name, smearing ice cream on himself. “Well, he wouldn’t… but you get the point.”
Muichiro rubbed his cheek where Yuichiro had wiped it. “If you did that to me, I’d talk to you about it.”
Tanjiro, licking his own cone, let out a thoughtful hum. His brows had been furrowed earlier as Genya spoke, but his expression softened before he joined the conversation. “I understand that Sanemi worries about you, Genya. But sometimes… it’s okay to stand up for yourself. Even if it’s your older brother. If I did something like that to Nezuko, well…” He let out a small chuckle, trailing off because he couldn’t imagine ever treating his sister that way.
Next to him, Zenitsu eagerly chimed in. “Yeah! You’ve got to tell him when he’s out of line! I mean, he’s bad enough at school, but you have to deal with him at home too? That’s crazy!”
“Oi! What did you say about my brother!?” Genya barked, raising a fist and practically pressing against Tanjiro as Zenitsu hid behind his red-haired friend.
“Ah-! Tanjiro, protect me!”
Before the situation could escalate, Inosuke- never one to miss a moment- raised his voice. “Exactly! If I had an older brother, I’d headbutt him if he pulled something like that!”
Tanjiro, agreeing with Inosuke’s comment, eagerly nodded.
Genya sighed, his cheeks flushing again as he took in his friends’ boisterous and unanimous support. It was new to him- and kind of nice. “It’s really not a big deal,” he repeated, trying to deflect. “Things are better now. Sanemi hasn’t given me as much grief since I started doing better in math, thanks to Muichiro’s help.”
Muichiro swallowed another bite of his ice cream and nodded. “It sounds like your brother overreacted. You’re not even bad at math- your grades were higher than Tanjiro’s, Inosuke’s, and Zenitsu’s before you even asked for help.”
Genya rolled his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable, and tried to steer the conversation away from his brother. “I’ve been able to spend more time practicing shooting now that my grades are up.” He raised his hand to lick the melted ice cream that had started dripping down the back of his fingers.
Yuichiro’s frown deepened. “Still doesn’t excuse what he did.”
Before Genya could respond and change the subject again, Tanjiro jumped in, smiling as he held out his phone. “Look at this cake Nezuko just made! She was invited to join the baking club since she loves fresh bread so much. I’m so proud of her. She’s getting better each time!”
Yuichiro’s expression softened, and Genya felt the tension in the group ease. Tanjiro’s love for his sister was infectious, and the conversation shifted to something lighter. Genya watched as Zenitsu snatched the phone from Tanjiro to coo over Nezuko’s baking skills, completely unaware that in his excitement, he’d accidentally shoved his ice cream into Inosuke’s chest with his other hand.
Inosuke and Zenitsu’s bickering faded into the background as Genya’s thoughts began to drift. He wondered if Sanemi had ever been proud of any of his achievements. Maybe if he kept doing well in school, Sanemi would finally be proud the next time he won a shooting tournament.
-----
A week later, on Friday, Genya returned home, his mind buzzing with excitement and hope for the evening.
Sanemi had asked him to stay home tonight while their mom took their younger siblings out. With Sanemi working, it was rare for the two of them to get time alone. The few moments they did get together were usually at school, and the topic was always Genya’s academics. But since his math grade had improved, those discussions had become less frequent. Even though his last two quizzes hadn’t been great, as Muichiro pointed out, Genya’s grades still weren’t bad. He was well above the class average, and he knew he’d do better where it counted- on the upcoming exam. His tournament was next week, and once that was over, he’d have more time to focus on studying.
Tonight, though, Genya hoped they could finally relax and just talk. Maybe even hang out or watch a movie together like they used to. But when he opened his bedroom’s door and saw Sanemi standing there, the tension in his brother’s stance was palpable.
“Genya.” Sanemi stood by the table, arms crossed. His tone was practically a bark, and Genya forced himself not to flinch. “We need to talk.”
Genya gulped. He recognized that tone.
Sanemi’s eyes were sharp, his mouth set in a hard line. “Your grades are slipping again.”
“What?” Genya blinked, confused. “It’s just been two tests. It’s not that bad.”
Sanemi’s jaw clenched. “Not that bad? You think you can slack off just because you did well a few times? If they keep dropping like this, how low do you think they’ll be before the exam? I told you before, you can’t just rely on shooting! It’s not going to get you a good job.”
A familiar weight settled in Genya’s chest. He thought they were past this, but here they were again. “I’ve been studying. I’m going to… I’m doing fine.”
“Fine isn’t good enough. You’re slipping.” Sanemi’s voice rose, his frustration boiling over as he watched Genya avert his gaze. “I’m talking to Giyuu on Monday. You’re off the shooting team.”
Genya’s stomach dropped. “What? You can’t do that!” He was the school’s ace! There was no way Sanemi would- or could- do that, right? “Giyuu-sensei wouldn’t- ”
“I’ll make sure he does,” Sanemi snapped.
Genya’s eyes flicked to the gun sitting on his desk- unloaded and partially disassembled. He’d brought it home to clean, finding the process of taking it apart and putting it back together both calming and a way to better understand the tool he was using. He always made sure to only keep it in his room and never carried any rounds with him, even though the school wouldn’t allow it anyway. He’d never put his family in danger like that.
Sanemi followed his gaze, and before Genya could stop him, he pushed past and grabbed the gun. “This is what’s distracting you,” he muttered, shaking it.
“Wait, don’t-”
The gun slipped from Sanemi’s hand, clattering against the edge of the table. Pieces scattered across the floor, and for a moment, Sanemi stared down at it, his eyes wide with surprise. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. His face darkened with a scowl as he bent down to pick up one of the pieces.
Genya’s chest tightened. It wasn’t broken- he knew that- but the sight of it, the careless way Sanemi had treated something he loved, stung deep. His friends’ voices echoed in his head, urging him to stand up for himself. A heat rose within him. “Why do you always do this?” Genya shouted, the words spilling out before he could stop them. His voice wavered, and he was startled to feel his vision blur with tears.
“The hell-!?”
Before Sanemi could say more, Genya turned and bolted, making a beeline for the bathroom. He didn’t want to be near Sanemi, not now. He could hear his brother chasing after him, yelling, demanding to know what he was planning. Just as he reached the bathroom, Genya tried to slam the door, but before he could lock it, a strong hand caught the edge.
With another hard shove, stronger than Genya was sued to from his older brother, Sanemi forced the door open, sending Genya stumbling back. His eyes widened as Sanemi stormed in, looking angrier than usual. But there was something else there too- something Genya couldn’t quite place.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sanemi growled, stepping forward and grabbing Genya by the collar. “What were you planning?” His eyes flickered over to the cupboard before snapping back to Genya.
Genya’s breath came hard and fast, his heart pounding in his ears. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” he shouted, shoving at Sanemi’s chest. “I thought things would be better after the festival. After I did what you wanted! But it’s never enough, is it?” His voice cracked as the tears that had gathered in his eyes spilled over, trailing down his cheeks.
Sanemi’s grip tightened. “What are you talking about?”
“My friends told me to stand up to you,” Genya spat. “But I didn’t. I keep letting you tell me what to do because you’re my big brother- because I thought you wanted what’s best for me- but you’re just trying to control me! I thought things would get better after he died. But you’re just like him.”
The words hung in the air, sharp and deadly. Sanemi’s eyes went wide, and for a split second, Genya saw something flicker in his brother’s expression- shock, hurt, maybe even fear.
“What did you say, brat?” Sanemi’s voice was low, dangerous, but also breathless. He shoved Genya harder, pushing him back against the doorframe. “You want to say that again?”
Genya’s voice trembled as he continued, “You’re just like Dad. You used to protect us from him, but now… now you’re the one I have to protect myself from! You won’t even let me go to the bathroom alone!” Genya knew he was exaggerating, but he was furious, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. “And what about Teiko? Hiroshi? Am I going to have to protect them from you too? The same way you used to protect us from him?”
Sanemi’s face twisted, and he looked away, his grip on Genya loosening. The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Genya’s words crashing down on both of them. As Sanemi stared off to the side, Genya’s mouth opened, realization sinking in- he’d gone too far.
Without a word, Sanemi let go of Genya’s collar, turned, and stormed out of the bathroom.
The yelling had stopped, but the silence that followed was almost worse.
Genya stood frozen, his heart still racing. He didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to run after Sanemi, to apologize, to take back everything he’d said. But another part of him- the part that was tired of being pushed around- held him in place.
Finally, he forced his feet to move, following Sanemi into the living room. He had to apologize. Angry or not, Sanemi wasn’t their dad. Their dad- the man who didn’t even deserve to be called that- had done far worse to them, including Sanemi.
Entering the living room, Genya found Sanemi sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, his whole body tense and shaking.
“Sanemi…” Genya’s voice was soft, hesitant. His eyes were wide as he looked at his older brother. He couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that he’d seen Sanemi so shaken.
Sanemi didn’t look up. “You think I’m like him?” His voice was hoarse, raw. “That I want to hurt you? Or hurt our siblings, like he did?”
Genya blinked, taken aback. “I didn’t mean-”
“I found Mom,” Sanemi interrupted, his voice barely a whisper. “When we were kids. I came home early one day, sick. Didn’t want to bother the teachers, or make Dad angry by calling to have him pick me up. At recess, I told you to walk Teiko and Hiroshi home. Figured I could make it home before anyone noticed. Mom could call in sick for me… but-” Sanemi’s voice hitched as he took a shaky breath, barely holding back a sob. Then, he continued, calmer but hollow. “When I got home, she was in the bathtub… her wrists were slit.”
Genya’s breath caught in his throat.
“She apologized,” Sanemi went on, his voice flat. “Told me not to tell anyone. And I didn’t- until now. I was sick, but I made dinner anyway while she rested. You ended up catching my cold.” His voice cracked, and Genya could hear him trembling. “When you ran to the bathroom just now, after I broke your gun… I thought… I thought…” His voice faltered again, and he lowered his head.
Genya’s eyes filled with tears. He remembered that day, even though it had been eight years ago. He remembered being scared of their father, remembered Sanemi standing between their dad and his three siblings. Teiko and Hiroshi were just in the first grade back then, Genya in third, Sanemi in eighth. And their mom, she hadn’t even known yet that she was pregnant with Sumi. “Sanemi…”
“I’m sorry,” Sanemi choked out, his voice breaking. “I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to hurt you.”
For the first time in years, Genya saw his brother cry- silent, painful sobs that shook his entire body. Without thinking, Genya moved to the couch and pulled Sanemi into a tight hug. “You’re not him,” he whispered fiercely. “You’re not. You care about me- you care about all of us. You’d never do what he did. You’d never hurt us, not like that. You protected us from him.” Genya buried his face against Sanemi’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have gone that far.”
Sanemi clung to him, his body trembling. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I don’t want to be like him. I’m sorry.”
Genya shook his head, tears staining Sanemi’s shirt. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”
For a long time, they stayed like that, holding each other as years of unspoken pain finally began to lift. At first, there were only sparse words- apologies, reassurances- but eventually, they simply held each other in silence, crying softly into each other's shoulders.
After a while, Genya pulled away, wiping his eyes. As he stood up, he noticed Sanemi standing in front of his room, looking toward the desk. “Did I break your favorite one?”
Placing one hand on Sanemi’s shoulder, Genya made his way past his brother, carefully picking up each small piece of the gun that had fallen. He knew each one by heart, and placed them back on the table. “I’ll put it back together later. It’s not broken. I had everything separated for cleaning- I just hadn’t locked everything back into place yet.”
“Oh.” Sanemi was quiet for a moment before continuing, “You always use the same gun, right? The one with the scratch on the side?” He nodded in the gun’s direction. “I’m surprised they haven’t fixed it, considering you’re their ace and it’s the one you always use.”
Genya could feel his cheeks flush, and noticed Sanemi’s doing the same. They both seemed embarrassed by the admission- for Sanemi revealing that he had been watching closely enough to notice.
“Actually, they tried to get me to use a newer one since this one’s a bit older, but… I like it.” Genya reached back and trailed his finger over the largest scratch on the handle. As he did so, Sanemi glanced at the scar on Genya’s face, and smiled softly when he saw his brother looking at him in return.
“It reminds me of you,” Genya said quietly.
Sanemi’s face flushed deeper, his eyes widening as he looked at his younger brother, who wore a similarly sheepish expression. But Genya didn’t stop talking.
“It’s got a bunch of smaller scratches on the other side. They remind me of your scars- how you wrapped yourself around me during the crash. Whenever I shoot, it reminds me that the weapon is meant to protect people… like how you protected me that day. When I run my fingers over those little grooves, it reminds me to take a clear shot, to put my all into it.”
By the time Genya finished speaking, Sanemi was pretty sure his face was as red as Genya’s- practically a tomato. Neither of them knew what to say, so they didn’t. Instead, after a few seconds of silence, Genya turned back to the table and began reassembling the gun.
Sanemi watched as Genya worked quickly and with practiced ease, his hands steady and sure. When the gun was fully reassembled, Genya stood up to leave the room, and Sanemi stepped aside to let him pass. But Genya hesitated at the door.
“Can we… hug again?” Genya asked, his voice small but hopeful.
Sanemi wiped at his eyes, giving a small nod. “Yeah. You wanna do it here or on the couch?”
“...Couch.”
“Sure. You wanna put on a movie?”
Genya nodded, and the two of them made their way to the couch. They leaned into each other, Sanemi’s arm wrapping around Genya instead of a full hug. The word cuddling wasn’t spoken aloud, but both brothers thought it as Sanemi scrolled through Netflix for something to watch- preferably something they’d both already seen, so neither of them would have to pay too much attention to it.
Genya smiled softly and leaned more into his brother’s side and closed his eyes, resting them after they’d worked producing so many tears. Sanemi squeezed his one arm around Genya a bit tighter, holding him close. They sat in comfortable silence as Sanemi put on a familiar comedy they both liked, the tension between them finally melting away. The warmth of their bond began to heal the scars of the past as they relaxed together.