Chapter Text
What might have been the most trying week of Aoi’s life began with the Flame Hashira escorting Genya to the Butterfly Mansion. The issue seemed to be more in Rengoku’s method of escort rather than the actual business of it, as Genya had a badly broken leg to go with an assortment of other, less concerning injuries: while they’d made most of the journey by hitching a ride on a merchant’s cart, the last leg of it had to be traveled on foot…and Rengoku had somehow managed to coerce the younger Shinuzagawa into riding on his back. He’d immediately dismounted upon coming into sight of the Mansion’s gates, and consequently, his injured leg had buckled and sent him tumbling. Renogku had gone to pick him back up, and the resultant commotion as Genya attempted to avoid being borne into the Butterfly Mansion like a particularly ornery bride on her wedding night brought Aoi and her three shadows at a run.
This did, at least, provide Genya with an alternative conveyance…Naho, Sumi and Kiyo got their hands on him and carried him off like three particularly adorable savages taking their captive away to sacrifice. Having the sense to realize that this was a fight he would not be proud of winning, Genya just went limp and let them haul him away. Aoi took a moment to confer with Rengoku, then swiftly pointed him in the right direction and hurried off to attend to her own work. Rengoku, meanwhile, took off around a corner of the mansion at an uncharacteristically nervous trot.
A short while later, a shocked bellow brought Aoi at the run once more, this time accompanied- despite her repeated orders to the contrary- by Tanjiro, recently returned to the Mansion to recoup after a long and exhausting series of back-to-back missions. Together they located the source of the noise, Tanjiro’s sensitive nose telling them more or less what they’d find before they got there: Uzui Tengen stood outside one of the multipurpose training rooms, arms held out and away from his body, making sputtering sounds of indignation and disgust, with vomit dripping down his chest. A flash of red and gold hair vanished around a corner.
“Master Rengoku ate something that didn’t agree with him on his trip back,” Aoi said acidly, surveying the mess with hands on hips.
“…..you don’t say,” he managed.
“What did you do? Shake him?”
“I might’ve hugged him.”
Aoi made a sound of deep frustration and resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “Just…ugh. Tanjiro? Could you help him out of his dirty things? I’ll send someone to clean up, I just don’t want him dripping all the way to the baths.”
“Of course. I’ll just….um…”
Uzui stepped off the engawa, putting himself at a more accessible height for Tanjiro to start gingerly undoing his vest.
“….thank you.”
“I’m going to make sure Master Rengoku gets to his room,” Aoi sighed. “Be thankful it’s only food poisoning.”
Tanjiro nodded, quite occupied with his task. Uzui, for his part, plucked carefully at the edges of his vest, pulling it away from his body to offer Tanjiro what little slack in the material he could and thus making it somewhat easier to undo. As soon as it had been completely unbuttoned, he shrugged the vest off, making a throaty little noise of disgust at the wet slap of it hitting the stone.
“It’s soaking into your pants too,” Tanjiro sighed. “We should get those off you as well.”
“Best not to,” Uzui advised, gingerly removing his gloves and armbands.
“….why?”
“There is flashy, young Kamado, and then there is strolling nude through Shinobu’s domain, something which one might even call suicidal.”
Tanjiro blinked. His eyes flicked to Uzui’s waistline, then back up. “…you’re not…are you not wearing…”
“I am not.”
“….I see,” Tanjiro managed. “I’ll just….ah…you should….um…enjoy your bath?”
“Thank you.”
When Tanjiro had finished helping the summoned kakushi clean up- despite the insistence that it wasn’t necessary- he went in search of Rengoku, wanting to reassure himself that the older man was receiving what care could be provided.
He found the Flame Hashira curled in an uncharacteristically vulnerable position on the bed in one of the smallish private rooms off the main infirmary, generally reserved for Hashira and patients requiring longer-term or complex care. He’d shed most of his uniform, sword stowed on the simple weapons rack in the corner, and his haori had probably been hung at one point but it had slid off its hook to puddle on the floor. Tanjiro moved to pick it up and hang it properly, letting Rengoku notice his presence. Under normal circumstances, he had no faith in his ability to sneak up on any Hashira, but Rengoku’s head was down and he was making uncomfortable noises into the bedclothes, so the odds were significantly skewed in Tanjiro’s favor.
“Mister Rengoku?” Tanjiro ventured.
“Mnnngg….”
“Do you need anything? Miss Aoi is busy but I can get some tea or water for you if you like?”
“M’fine.”
“….can you even breathe in that position?”
Rengoku managed a breathless sort of a laugh and raised his head to offer Tanjiro a tired echo of his usual bright smile. “Just enough to pray for a swift end,” he admitted.
“….was it helping, or….”
“Not really.” He hiccuped softly. “But it eased the cramping somewhat.”
Tanjiro winced. “I could see about getting a hot rice pack for you, if you like. They’re good for other muscle cramps, so I’m sure they’d work well on your stomach too.”
“That would be appreciated, thank you. If it’s no trouble, of course.”
“No trouble at all,” Tanjiro promised, and jogged away to get one.
“You are supposed to be resting,” Aoi reminded him, catching him in the kitchen as he heated one of the rice packs kept in a box near the fire for just such a purpose.
“I am.”
“You’re not, you’re running around fussing at people.”
“I’m just getting Mister Rengoku a heat pack.”
Aoi growled at him, then turned away to start assembling a tea tray with quick, efficient movements. “Just…..stay put. I’ll give you some tea to take him as well. It should help ease the nausea enough for him to get some sleep. And he’ll need the fluids.”
“He seemed to be in….reasonable spirits?” Tanjiro offered. “That’s a good sign.”
“You know as well as I do that he could be in reasonable spirits immediately after losing a limb. He’s feverish, violently nauseated and needs to sleep because vomiting makes him hopelessly morose and weepy.”
“But in good spirits. It seems like worrying should wait until he’s…you know….not?”
“Just…take this with you. And some rice crackers, if you can get him to eat any. And then go lie down.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Tanjiro returned to Rengoku’s room in time to see him snatch up the bucket someone had put beside the bed- likely for this specific purpose- and curl over it with a thick moan.
“Oh no,” Tanjiro sighed, putting the tray aside and moving over to the bed.
“Nngk…..’njiro?”
“Just me,” he agreed, sitting carefully on the bed beside him. “You’re going to fall off the bed, sitting like that. Can you move back a little? I’ll steady the bucket. That’s it…good. Much better.”
Rengoku hugged the bucket to himself, coughing a little on a thick rope of drool that dangled a moment before falling away. “A-ah…apologies. I’m not entirely….g-good company.”
“It’s alright,” Tanjiro assured him. “I’ve brought the rice pack, and Miss Aoi sent tea and crackers. I think you might want to wait to try those, though....”
Rengoku groaned again, louder, and let his head hang over the bucket. Tanjiro could see his throat working and sighed.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to tie your hair back…it’s just going to get in your way like this.” He was answered by a string of progressively more violent gags, which he decided to take as permission, getting up on his knees to sweep Rengoku’s hair back into a loose tail at the base of his neck. “There. That should keep everything out of the way, and it ought to be alright to lie back on as well.”
Rengoku leaned sideways into him, breathing in shallow little pants, and Tanjiro immediately put a hand on his back, rubbing soothingly.
“You’ll feel better, getting it all up,” he murmured gently. “Just try to relax.”
“How’s th-there anything left?” the blond moaned. “’S b-been all- hllgch!”
Tanjiro winced, continuing his back rubbing while Rengoku heaved wretchedly into the bucket. When his stomach had apparently ceased pitching a tantrum for the time being, Tanjiro took the bucket from his hands and put it aside, then set to coaxing him fully onto the bed.
“Try and relax….here, you can rinse your mouth with this. Mmhmm. Drink a little if you can…little sips, that’s it.”
“You’re quite good at this,” Rengoku said hoarsely, allowing Tanjiro to lean him back against his pillows.
“Yes, well, I’m the eldest of six and my father had- oh. Oh I’m sorry, I was treating you like-”
Rengoku held up a hand, silencing Tanjiro immediately.
“I’ve never been at the receiving end of an elder brother’s care, being the eldest myself. It’s…not at all unpleasant.”
Tanjiro flushed brightly and looked away. “Please forgive me. I wasn’t thinking…”
“Nothing to forgive. It’s…nice. I’m unaccustomed to being…cared for. Physically.”
“Then I’ll continue….with your permission, of course.”
Rengoku nodded. “Please do. It…helps.”
Permission given, Tanjiro settled in to have a good long fuss.