Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Courage to remember with the Sun at your Side
It was a bright day, the sun warming the earth as the gentle breeze rustled through the wisteria trees. Muichiro had once again come to visit Tanjiro at the Butterfly Mansion, and Tanjiro’s recovery was now well underway. He was strong enough to leave his bed, and the two of them had wandered out into the inner gardens, their footsteps soft on the gravel path.
They walked side by side, close enough that their hands would occasionally brush against each other, the brief contact sending a spark through Tanjiro’s chest. The Butterfly Mansion wasn’t too busy today. A few demon slayers were scattered around, treating their wounds or collecting new supplies of medicine and bandages. The soft sound of footsteps echoed through the halls as the Butterfly Girls moved gently between rooms, tending to each visitor with their usual care and efficiency.
Muichiro glanced over his shoulder, meeting Tanjiro’s gaze. “How are you feeling, Tanjiro?” The words came out in that calm and distant tone of his—but the concern behind it Tanjiro had come to recognize all too well.
Before Tanjiro could answer, Muichiro turned around suddenly, his face appearing right in front of Tanjiro’s, so close that their noses almost brushed together. Startled, Tanjiro took a small step back, his heart skipping a beat. “T-Tokito-kun, don’t turn around so suddenly…”
Muichiro blinked slowly and the faintest smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "I just wanted to look into your eyes, because your eyes don’t know how to lie.,“ he said almost teasingly. "How are you really feeling?"
Tanjiro let out a nervous laugh and his hand instinctively moving to the back of his neck. "I'm fine, really! Only Kochou-san still doesn't let me go back to training, let alone missions."
Muichiro, sensing the slight irritation in Tanjiro’s tone, leaned in even closer, his breath brushing Tanjiro’s face. His smile grew, playful yet somehow tender. "Don't even dare to go on missions before you’re fully healed," he said teasingly, but Tanjiro knew better. The warning was there, wrapped in sweetness, impossible to miss.
Tanjiro’s heart skipped again. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get a word out, Muichiro suddenly lowered his head, his forehead bumping gently against Tanjiro’s chest. The contact caught him off guard, Muichiro’s cool skin contrasted with the heat rising beneath Tanjiro’s ribs. For a few lingering seconds, they stayed like that—neither moving, neither speaking.
Then, Tanjiro slowly raised his hands, placing them gently on Muichiro’s shoulders. His words were soft carrying the weight of his sincerity. "I won’t do anything to make you worry, Tokito-kun… I promise."
Muichiro remained still for a few more moments resting his forehead lightly against Tanjiro’s chest, before he lifted his head. His eyes met Tanjiro’s, and for once, there was something vulnerable in them. Something that said he, too, needed that reassurance.
Finally, Muichiro let out a soft exhale. "Good. I’ll hold you to that."
Tanjiro smiled at him, full of affection—gentle and sincere, the kind of look that spoke louder than words. “I’ll be careful.”
They stood there for a while longer, the silence comfortable between them, the scent of flowers and fresh air mingling with the faint sound of the distant garden stream. Tanjiro felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun—it was the feeling of being cared for, and of caring for someone in return.
Then, Muichiro inhaled slowly, bracing himself. He had fought Upper Moons, faced death countless times, and yet—this felt harder. But he had to do it.
“Tanjiro…” he started, hesitating. His fingers twitched nervously at his sides, brushing against the fabric of his uniform as if searching for something to hold onto. A small breath caught in his throat, but he pushed forward, determined to get the words out. “Would… would you mind… com… I mean…” He swallowed once again. “…Live with me in my estate.”
The words tumbled out in a rushed, almost clumsy mutter. Then, as if realizing how it sounded, he quickly added, “Of course, Nezuko can come too!!!”
Tanjiro blinked, eyes widening in surprise. He looked down at Muichiro, who still had his forehead pressed lightly against his chest. This wasn’t something he ever imagined hearing—his mind stumbled, caught between disbelief and the weight of what had just been offered, his brain struggling to process the unexpected offer. Then, without thinking, his grip on Muichiro’s shoulders strengthened.
Before he could respond, however, a voice—gentle in tone but carrying an unmistakable aura of murderous intent—cut through the air.
“Tanjiro-kun, Muichiro-kun, would you mind finding a more private space for your little flirting? The girls are trying to work here.”
Muichiro jolted like a startled cat, his entire body stiffening as he spun around in an instant. His ears turned an alarming shade of red, but he still stood firm in front of Tanjiro, as if shielding him from the deadly presence that had just appeared.
There, standing behind them with a sweet but utterly menacing smile, was none other than Kochou Shinobu.
“We weren’t fli—” Tanjiro stammered, his voice pitching higher than usual and his face now as red as a ripe tomato.
“Come with me.” Shinobu's words drifted out almost like a hum, airy and melodic, but the weight behind her words made it clear—this was not a request. Without waiting for their reply, she turned around and started walking away.
Muichiro and Tanjiro exchanged a quick, awkward glance, both of them still visibly flustered. Then, with no other choice, they obediently followed after her.
Tanjiro and Muichiro quickly followed Shinobu into her treatment room. She moved to her desk, casually flipping through some papers, completely ignoring the two boys for a while.
They stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do, exchanging a few shy glances but not daring to speak. The air in the room felt tense—though whether it was because of Shinobu’s presence or their own lingering embarrassment, neither of them could tell.
Finally, Shinobu looked up, her signature smile gracing her face. But despite her pleasant expression, the underlying sharpness in her gaze sent a chill down their spines.
“Tanjiro-kun, your injuries are almost completely healed,” she said sweetly. “And Muichiro-kun—before you come here every single day and make life for the girls and everyone else unbearably awkward, how about you take Tanjiro-kun to your estate and let him rest there? You two can be as flirty as you want and do whatever you like. What do you think?"
Muichiro’s entire face turned a deep shade of red. He stared down at his feet.
Did… did Kochou-san hear my request earlier? His mind was spinning, panic creeping into his chest. Does she… does she know that…
As he struggled to process the situation, Shinobu continued, her tone as light as ever.
“Tanjiro-kun’s almost fully recovered, but I don’t want him doing anything too strenuous for at least another week. That said, some light reaction training wouldn’t hurt—and I trust he’ll be in good hands with you, Muichiro-kun.”
Muichiro’s thoughts were a chaotic blur. His ears burned, his breath hitched—he had no idea how to respond. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and Shinobu sighed dramatically before speaking again.
“You two really thought no one had noticed? We all know what’s going on between you. You’re both absolutely terrible at hiding things.” Her amused gaze flickered between them before settling on Muichiro. “Muichiro-kun, how many times have you visited Tanjiro-kun in the past two weeks? Think about it. And now tell me—how many times have you ever visited anyone else here?”
Muichiro’s throat tightened.
“Yes, that’s right. Zero. Never happened before,” Shinobu finished smoothly.
For the first time in his life, Muichiro wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and disappear completely.
That’s when Tanjiro, still flustered but finally snapping out of his frozen state, grabbed Muichiro’s hand firmly—just as Muichiro instinctively tried to retreat. Their fingers intertwined, stopping Muichiro in place.
“Shinobu-san, we’re sorry for causing trouble to you!” Tanjiro exclaimed. Then, turning to Muichiro, “Tokito-kun, if it’s not a bother to you… please let me stay at your place!!!”
His words came out louder than intended, almost a shout, but his eyes were determined.
Muichiro, still caught in his flustered daze, could only stare at him in disbelief.
Shinobu didn’t wait for Muichiro’s answer—it was too obvious.
“Great, then it’s settled. Tanjiro-kun, go pack your things now. You can leave today with Muichiro-kun.”
After practically kicking the boys out of her office, Shinobu sighed, shaking her head with a grin. Her gaze fell onto the folded paper on her desk—a letter from the Love Hashira, Kanroji Mitsuri.
You owe me this one, Mitsuri-chan. I don’t have time to deal with something like this.
She leaned back, tapping a finger against the desk. I hope you’re satisfied now. I did what I could to give those idiots a little more private time before they get dragged back into their duties. And honestly… they really were an eyesore here.
The line from Mitsuri’s letter about treating the boys with more care and not embarrassing them was conveniently ignored, of course. Shinobu wasn’t one for coddling, and those two needed to learn how to handle themselves under a bit of pressure. Her lips curled into a playful grin as she recalled how the boys had been flustered and red-faced throughout the entire exchange.
But I’m sure they’ll appreciate a little extra attention, just like that. They need to learn how to handle these feelings... and a little embarrassment never hurt anyone. They’re still figuring things out, but this will help them push through their hesitations.
And honestly, Shinobu didn’t feel too bad about making them uncomfortable—it was just a step in their growth, after all.
Besides, they were starting to get on my nerves.
With a quiet chuckle, she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, jotting down a quick reply to Mitsuri. A few simple sentences. Then, calling her crow, she folded the letter and handed it off for delivery.
Tanjiro was still holding onto Muichiro’s hand as they stood in the doorway, the cool air from the hall brushing past them. Meanwhile, Muichiro was still frozen, unable to lift his gaze from the floor, his mind struggling to catch up with everything that had just happened.
“That was scary, right, Tokito-kun?” Tanjiro chuckled nervously, but Muichiro gave no response.
Frowning slightly, Tanjiro leaned down, tilting his head until his face was just in front of Muichiro’s. “Tokito-kun, is everything all right?”
Muichiro finally seemed to snap out of his daze. His eyes blinked quickly as he nodded—far too fast—before slipping his hand free from Tanjiro’s grasp.
Without another word, they walked back to Tanjiro’s hospital room in silence.
Thankfully, the room was empty when they arrived. Ever since the defeat of the two Upper Moons at the Swordsmith Village, the number of injured Demon Slayers had dropped significantly. Fewer warriors were staying in the Butterfly Mansion now. Tanjiro wasted no time gathering his things, stuffing his belongings into a small travel bag as Muichiro stood by the door, watching him in silence.
Then, finally, Muichiro spoke.
“Tanjiro…” His voice was quiet and uncertain. “Do… do you really want to come to my place?”
Tanjiro paused, looking up at him. “Would it be a bother for you, Tokito-kun?”
Muichiro immediately shook his head, his answer coming almost too quickly. “No, of course not! I… I wanted to ask you to come…” He faltered, his gaze dropping as his fingers, hidden beneath the oversized sleeves of his uniform, curled tightly into the fabric. “But now Kochou-san kind of forced you?”
At that, Tanjiro smiled. Despite everything that had happened in the past few weeks, he could tell—Muichiro still doubted himself sometimes.
Glancing around to make sure they were truly alone, Tanjiro took a step closer. Then, without warning, he pulled Muichiro into a gentle embrace, pressing a light kiss against his forehead.
“Tokito-kun,” he murmured softly, “nobody is forcing me. I want to come. I want to spend as much time as possible with you. Besides… Nezuko has been brought to my master, the previous Water Hashira, Urokodaki-san, whom I deeply trust. After Muzan clearly targeted her, we decided to take her to a safe location, far from the next battles. For now, I don’t want to risk losing her to Muzan…” He trailed off, Tanjiro looked down for a moment, then met Muichiro's gaze once more, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “So… maybe we can have some more time together… just the two of us…”
Muichiro barely had time to process the words before Tanjiro added, “Though… I probably won’t be able to stay too long. Once I’ve fully recovered, I’ll have to start my Hashira training program.”
Muichiro felt an odd tightness in his chest—not of sadness, but more fragile and warm. Every day these past few weeks had felt like a dream. And somehow, every new day felt even better than the last.
Flustered, Muichiro quickly pushed Tanjiro away, “We’ll get caught again.”
Tanjiro only laughed at this, his eyes filled with fondness.
When Tanjiro finished packing, he and Muichiro stepped out of the Butterfly Mansion, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the courtyard.
The moment they did, a sharp cry cut through the air. From above, Ginko, Muichiro’s ever-loyal crow, swooped down with fierce intensity, her eyes glaring at Tanjiro with nothing short of disgust.
“Stay away from Muichiro!!” she screeched, flapping her wings aggressively.
Before Tanjiro could react, her sharp beak darted forward, delivering a swift peck to his cheek.
“Ah—! Ginko, that hurts!” Tanjiro yelped, rubbing his face.
Satisfied with her attack, Ginko turned to her master, ruffling her feathers importantly. “Oyakata-sama asked you to come to the headquarters.”
Muichiro blinked. “A mission?”
“No,” Ginko replied, tilting her head. “Oyakata-sama said there is something he wants to talk to you about. And something to give you.”
Muichiro nodded. Even though he wanted to take Tanjiro to his estate as soon as possible, he could never ignore an order from the Master.
He turned to Tanjiro. “Would you mind going to Oyakata-sama first?”
Tanjiro’s answer was immediate, his signature warm smile appearing as he shook his head. “No, of course not. Oyakata-sama is important to you, right, Tokito-kun?” Muichiro nodded, then hesitated before adding, almost in a whisper, “…I owe my life to him. And to Amane-sama.”
Tanjiro’s expression softened. “I’m grateful too,” he said suddenly. “Not just because they lead the Demon Slayer Corps,” Tanjiro continued, his voice filled with quiet sincerity. “But also because they saved you, Tokito-kun. If not for them… I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.”
Muichiro’s breath caught.
“Tanjiro…”
For the hundredth time, he felt overwhelmed by how lucky he was—to have Tanjiro by his side, to have his feelings returned. Suppressing the strong urge to pull Tanjiro into another embrace, Muichiro instead gave a small nod.
With that, they finally started their journey toward the headquarters. All the way there, they kept a slight distance between them—not because they wanted to, but because they had to. Ginko, still perched on Muichiro’s shoulder, kept a wary eye on Tanjiro, ready to strike again if he dared to lean in too close again.
Tanjiro sighed. This was going to be a long walk.
After some time they finally arrived at the Demon Slayer headquarters. As they stepped into the familiar grounds, Tanjiro suddenly slowed his pace before coming to a stop in the outer courtyard. Muichiro took a few more steps before realizing Tanjiro wasn’t following. He turned, tilting his head in quiet question.
“I think it’s better if I wait here…” Tanjiro said carefully. Muichiro studied him for a moment, searching his face. He could tell Tanjiro didn’t want to intrude, and perhaps he was feeling a little nervous about the whole situation.
Muichiro gave a small nod. “Okay. I’ll be quick.”
With that, he turned and made his way toward the inner garden—the usual place where they would wait for Oyakata-sama’s arrival.
As he walked, Muichiro swallowed, feeling the weight of his own thoughts. Shinobu-san is right. Our relationship isn’t exactly a secret anymore…
He had wanted to report it to Oyakata-sama. Not because it was an obligation, but because it felt important.
Oyakata-sama and Amane-sama had not only saved his life—they had given him a purpose. Even when he couldn’t remember himself, they had believed in him. And in turn, that belief had helped him find himself again.
If they had never trusted him to make his own decisions… would he have regained his memories at all? Would he have been able to choose to save Kotetsu that day? But Muichiro knew for sure, if they hadn’t allowed him to make those choices, he wouldn’t be here now, standing by Tanjiro’s side, feeling a happiness he never even knew could exist.
As he entered the inner garden, Muichiro exhaled slowly, steadying himself. It was only him here. None of the other Hashira had been summoned, and the air was eerily quiet. For a brief moment, Muichiro wondered if he would get to see Oyakata-sama again. His condition had worsened considerably—so much so that Amane-sama had already announced he would not stand before them anymore.
But since I’m alone here… maybe this is my chance. A chance to tell them about Tanjiro. A chance to receive their blessing. Would they understand? Would they feel happy for him?
Muichiro closed his eyes for a brief second, pushing away the lingering uncertainty.
They will. They have to. I want to believe that.
Taking another breath, he stepped forward, waiting for Oyakata-sama’s presence.
It didn't take long for Amane-sama to appear, her two white-haired daughters silently flanking her as they moved with their usual grace. Muichiro immediately straightened, his expression serious and his mind determined.
After a short exchange of formal greetings, Amane-sama gestured for him to follow her inside.
He was led to a room he was all too familiar with—the place where countless Hashira meetings had been held. The air inside was unnervingly still, the absence of voices and presence of the other Hashira creating a sense of emptiness.
Muichiro sat in seiza, his hands resting neatly on his lap as he tried to decide whether he should speak first or wait. He wasn’t sure why he had been summoned, but he had already resolved to bring up what he had wanted to say all along.
Just as he swallowed, bracing himself to speak, Amane-sama’s voice broke the quiet first.
"Tokito-sama, thank you for coming today," she said with her usual calm, measured tone. "As you told us after the battle against Upper Moon Five that you have regained your memories, the Ubuyashiki family first wishes to apologize…"
She and her daughters bowed deeply.
Muichiro’s eyes widened slightly. He hadn’t expected this. He immediately lifted his hands, shaking them slightly in protest. "No, please don’t. I—"
But Amane-sama continued firmly. "...for not being able to protect you and your brother. We should have reacted faster. When we found the two of you alone, without parents, we should have brought you to safety much earlier. We are truly sorry for this."
Muichiro froze. He hadn’t expected them to bring up this topic. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.
Then, before he even realized it, he was bowing as well—deeper than them, pressing his forehead almost to the floor.
"No," he said firmly despite the emotions swirling inside him. "I must thank Amane-sama and Oyakata-sama for saving my life and giving me a new purpose, even when, for so many years, I was unable to recover my memories. You believed in me. You recognized me as the Mist Hashira. I am deeply grateful for that."
He remained bowed, his hands pressing into the tatami. A quiet moment passed before Amane-sama lifted her head.
When Muichiro lifted his head again, his eyes met Amane-sama’s. She regarded him with a gentle smile before continuing.
"Tokito-sama, for the following matter, my husband and I have agreed to speak to you directly." She spoke slowly, her eyes never leaving his. Then, after a brief pause, she added, "But before that—would you like Kamado-sama to be at your side?"
Muichiro’s eyes widened slightly.
Did she already know? Did Shinobu-san say something…?
His mind raced, trying to figure out what to say, how to respond, but before he could find the right words, Amane-sama’s expression remained warm, understanding.
"Kamado Tanjiro is important to you, isn’t he?" she continued gently. "And I know that he is waiting outside for you."
Muichiro swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
"Tokito-sama, last time you told us about how you regained your memories, your eyes shone when speaking of Kamado-sama—how he helped you remember your past." Amane-sama’s voice remained steady, reassuring. "We knew it was only a matter of time before you truly realized your feelings."
Muichiro felt his pulse quicken. She really did know. They both did.
Amane-sama paused briefly, then went on, her words filled with warmth. "My husband and I are truly happy that you have found someone you can trust completely—someone with whom you can be yourself, who will care for you, and whom you deeply care for in return. We sincerely hope that you will find your own happiness, Tokito-sama."
Muichiro’s ears had gradually turned red, but at the same time, he felt something welling up inside him, his vision blurred before he could stop it, tears slipping down his cheeks.
It took him a moment before he could even whisper, his voice barely audible, "...Thank you..."
He had received their blessing.
Muichiro had desperately wished for this to be the case, but now that it was truly happening, it felt overwhelming. They knew. And they approved—not just of him, but of them.
With this he allowed himself to cry, soft and unrestrained.
It took a little while before he could calm down enough, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve, his breath still a bit unsteady. When the quiet settled again, Amane-sama spoke once more.
"Tokito-sama, have you spoken with Kamado-sama about your past?"
Muichiro nodded, unsure where this was leading.
"What we wish to show you next may be painful," she said gently. "Do you want Kamado-sama at your side?"
Muichiro hesitated, not knowing what to expect, but his body had already responded before his mind could catch up. He nodded unconsciously.
At his silent agreement, one of Amane-sama’s daughters immediately stood and left the room.
Silence filled the space as they waited.
Then, soft footsteps approached, and soon, the girl returned—with Tanjiro following closely behind. The moment Muichiro saw him, something in his chest eased, “Tanjiro…"
Tanjiro’s eyes immediately took in the traces of tears on Muichiro’s face, his expression shifting to concern as he hurried to his side without a second thought. Kneeling beside him, his hands instinctively found Muichiro’s, squeezing them gently, “What happened?"
Amane-sama gave a small nod to her other daughter. The girl stood gracefully, walked across the room, and from within a drawer, retrieved a wooden box. She carried it carefully, returning to place it before Amane-sama.
Without even knowing what exactly lay inside the box, Muichiro already felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. His fingers twitched slightly on his lap. Tanjiro, as if sensing his unease—or more likely, smelling it—shifted a little closer. The warmth of his presence pressed gently against Muichiro’s side, steady and reassuring.
Amane-sama placed a delicate hand atop the wooden box, her expression gentle yet solemn as she looked at him once more.
"Tokito-sama, we kept this after we found you and your brother seriously injured in your home." She paused briefly before continuing, "I am sorry… we were not able to save your brother."
Hearing those words still hurt, no matter how much time had passed.
Muichiro’s grip on his own knees tightened, but before he could spiral into his emotions, he felt the firm squeeze of Tanjiro’s hand over his own. The warmth seeped through his skin, steadying him even as the ache in his chest deepened.
Amane-sama continued, her voice remained soft and respectful. "We decided to keep this as a memorial until the day you would eventually regain your memories, Tokito-sama. Now, it is time for us to return it to you."
At her words, one of her daughters bowed politely before carefully pushing the box toward him.
Muichiro hesitated. His hand slipped out of Tanjiro’s grasp, reaching forward, though it shook slightly. The sight of his own trembling fingers only made his stomach twist further.
Just then, he felt the warmth of Tanjiro’s hands pressing gently on his shoulders.
Muichiro turned his head slightly, meeting those deep red eyes—filled with nothing but warmth, concern, and understanding. Tanjiro didn’t say anything, but the way his face softened, the way his eyes held that sad yet reassuring glint, was enough.
I’m here.
The silent message passed between them effortlessly, and Muichiro found himself swallowing back a lump in his throat. He turned back toward the box, exhaling slowly. Then, with one final deep breath, he pulled it closer to him, lifting the lid. The faint creak of the wood echoed in the stillness.
The moment his eyes landed on what lay inside, his vision blurred instantly. Tears welled up before he could even try to stop them.
It was his brother’s dark yukata—the familiar mist-patterned fabric folded neatly, preserved with care.
For what felt like an eternity, Muichiro could only stare.
His fingers hovered over the fabric before he finally, slowly, picked it up. The material felt lighter in his hands than he remembered, but the memories it carried weighed heavily on his heart.
It had been cleaned thoroughly—no trace of blood remained—but he could still see the small rips and tears left by the demon’s claws. His brother’s desperate attempt to shield him.
His gaze drifted over the carefully stitched patches—small mended sections that he remembered Yuichiro fixing after their parents had passed, when they didn’t have the means to afford new clothes.
His vision blurred further. The room was silent, waiting for him to speak. But he couldn’t.
His fingers clenched around the fabric, and before he knew it, he was pressing the yukata tightly against his chest. His head dipped, long strands of his black hair with cyan tips falling over his face, shielding his expression from view.
But Tanjiro didn’t need to see his face to know. He could feel the trembling. "...Tokito-kun," he murmured softly.
And then gently, Tanjiro pulled Muichiro toward him, and Muichiro didn’t resist. His body moved on its own, head burying into Tanjiro’s shoulder as the sobs he had been holding back finally broke free.
Tanjiro’s hands moved instinctively, one settling on Muichiro’s back, the other gently threading through his long hair.
The only sounds in the quiet room were Muichiro’s muffled cries and the soft, soothing motions of Tanjiro’s hand rubbing his back.
Muichiro continued to sob into Tanjiro’s shoulder, his small frame trembling as he let the emotions flow freely. Here, in this room, he didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to be the ever-strong, never-shaken Hashira that everyone expected him to be. It was still embarrassing, of course. But… it was also okay. Because the only people here—Tanjiro, Amane-sama, and her daughters—had already seen his vulnerability before.
Muichiro realized that this might have been the first time he had truly allowed himself to mourn his brother’s death.
For so long, he hadn’t even remembered he had a brother. Then, when those memories finally returned, he hadn’t been able to process them properly—everything had been too confusing, too overwhelming. And soon after, there was Tanjiro—his presence, his kindness, his warmth—all of it had completely shaken Muichiro’s world. His feelings for him had left him uncertain, tangled in emotions he barely understood. And the fear of almost losing him—losing another important person in his life—had made everything painfully clear. And just recently they had finally sorted things out between them… there had been no time left for Muichiro to think about his past.
Only now did he realize how much he had been holding in.
His mind drifted back to that afternoon not long ago, when he had been visiting Tanjiro at the Butterfly Estate. They had been sitting together in the inner garden, side by side, the late afternoon sun casting warm golden hues over them.
That was the first time Muichiro had finally found the courage to speak about his past.
He had told Tanjiro everything—how he had lived with his brother after their parents died, how Yuichiro’s harsh words had always cut deep, and how, too late, Muichiro had realized the truth. In the moment his brother was dying, he understood that Yuichiro’s harsh words had never been meant to hurt him, but to protect him. How his brother had given his life trying to keep him safe, and how, in the end, Muichiro was left alone, his memories slowly fading into nothingness. He had tried to say it all as calmly as possible, treating it almost like a detached report of someone else's life. Even when his voice shook, even when his hands clenched into his lap—he had forced himself to remain composed.
But Tanjiro had grieved for him. Halfway through his story, Tanjiro had suddenly reached out, grabbing Muichiro’s hand in his own, squeezing it tightly. And then, when he had finished—when the words had finally left him, lingering in the space between them—Tanjiro hadn’t hesitated for even a second.
He had pulled Muichiro into a tight embrace. And even though Muichiro had been the one telling his own story—Tanjiro had been the first to cry. Tears had slipped down his cheeks as he held Muichiro close, "You went through so much, Tokito-kun… you were all alone for so long…"
That day, Muichiro couldn’t cry. But now, held in Tanjiro’s warmth once again, he finally could.
Muichiro had no idea how long he had been crying into Tanjiro’s shoulder before he finally began to calm down. His breath was still uneven, but the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. As he lifted a hand to wipe away the last of his tears, Tanjiro was quicker, gently brushing them away with his fingers.
"Tokito-kun..." Tanjiro murmured softly and full of concern.
Muichiro took a shaky breath. "I’m okay... Don’t worry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He slowly pulled away from Tanjiro’s warmth, straightening himself before turning back to Amane-sama and her daughters. Bowing deeply, his forehead nearly touched the tatami again as he spoke. "Thank you, Amane-sama. Thank you so much for keeping my brother’s last memorial. I can’t express how much this means to me."
Seeing Muichiro bow so deeply, Tanjiro instinctively followed suit, lowering his head beside him without hesitation.
Amane-sama smiled gently before continuing, her voice as calm and steady as ever. "Tokito-sama, regarding your brother’s body... When we found you, it was already too late. And with the summer heat, we didn’t have much time. In the end, we decided to lay him to rest alongside your parents."
Muichiro’s head snapped up slightly at her words, his throat tightening. But instead of speaking immediately, he bowed even deeper, his voice trembling as he whispered, "Thank you... Thank you so much for giving him a place to rest."
"Please, lift your head, Tokito-sama," Amane said gently, signaling that the conversation had come to an end.
Muichiro and Tanjiro both sat up properly again, exchanging one last bow of gratitude before formally taking their leave. Before stepping out, they each wished for Oyakata-sama’s well-being—not with the hope of full recovery, as they knew that was impossible, but simply for him to suffer as little as possible in his remaining days.
As they stepped outside, Muichiro held the wooden box securely in his hands, as if afraid it might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly. He walked in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of his brother’s presence within it. The fabric of the yukata inside was old, yet it had been carefully preserved all this time, waiting for him to finally remember.
Tanjiro glanced at him, noticing how tightly Muichiro was holding the box, and without a word, he reached out and gently placed a hand on Muichiro’s back, offering his support. Muichiro didn’t flinch or pull away—he simply let himself lean into that warmth, just for a moment.
As the boys left the headquarters, Amane watched them go, a soft, knowing smile on her lips. It was clear just how much they meant to each other, and even clearer how much Muichiro had changed. Slowly but surely, he was beginning to heal from the wounds of his past.
Surely, at Kamado Tanjiro’s side, Muichiro would be able to find his happiness.
Satisfied with that thought, Amane let out a sigh. She and her husband no longer needed to worry about Muichiro—at least not in that way. Even if she wouldn’t be there to see what the future held for them, she prayed from the bottom of her heart.
Please… do your best. Please, try to stay alive… both of you.
Tanjiro walked alongside Muichiro on their way back to the Mist Hashira’s estate, keeping a close eye on him. Muichiro had been quiet ever since they left the headquarters, his expression unreadable, but Tanjiro could still sense the lingering emotions from earlier. Seeing Muichiro break down over his brother’s yukata had left a deep ache in Tanjiro’s heart, and he wanted to do something—anything—to comfort him.
So, every once in a while, whenever Ginko wasn’t watching from above, Tanjiro would gently place a hand on Muichiro’s back, rubbing slow, soothing circles. Muichiro never pulled away, and Tanjiro took that as a sign that, at the very least, his presence was helping in some way.
When they finally arrived at Muichiro’s estate, Tanjiro’s eyes widened slightly. As expected of a Hashira, the estate was large, with a spacious front yard, an inner garden leading to the private quarters, and even a dojo attached. But despite its size, the moment Tanjiro stepped inside, he immediately felt how empty it was. The quiet was almost deafening, and he could only imagine the endless lonely hours Muichiro must have spent here, all by himself.
Muichiro led Tanjiro to his private room, which was just as sparse as the rest of the estate. There were no unnecessary decorations, no personal touches—only the bare essentials. Tanjiro’s heart clenched. He really doesn’t have much…
Without a word, Muichiro walked across the room, opening the doors to a small storage shelf. Carefully, he placed the wooden box inside, his movements deliberate, almost reverent. When he finally closed the doors, it was as if all the tension in his body slowly began to leave him.
Turning back to Tanjiro, Muichiro offered a small, slightly sad smile. "Tanjiro…" He hesitated, glancing around his room, as if contemplating something. His gaze flickered to Tanjiro again, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. "You can have a guest room…"
Tanjiro blinked. "Oh…" He hadn’t meant to sound disappointed, but for some reason, he was. Maybe it was because, after everything, after how close they had become, he had hoped Muichiro wouldn’t feel the need to keep any distance between them.
But before Tanjiro could say anything, Muichiro spoke again, his voice quieter, slower—his ears turning redder by the second.
"...But… I mean… if… if… I mean…you want to…“ he avoided Tanjiro’s gaze for a moment before finally forcing himself to meet his eyes. "...I wouldn’t mind if you… stayed here with me. In my room…"
Tanjiro felt his heartbeat stutter for a second. Muichiro’s words were barely audible, hesitant and uncertain, but the way he looked at Tanjiro, it was clear that he truly meant it.
A warmth spread through Tanjiro’s chest—happiness, surprise, and something else he couldn’t quite name all mixing together. He wasn’t sure why, but hearing Muichiro say those words, seeing him so flustered, made his heart race in a way that caught him completely off guard.
Enthusiastically, Tanjiro almost shouted, "Yes, I'll stay with you. Please take care of me, Tokito-kun!!!"
The sheer energy in his voice, paired with his bright, beaming smile, was too much for Muichiro to handle. His face burned even hotter as he took a quick step backward, turning sharply to hide his flustered expression. Without another word, he moved toward his wall shelves, pulling out two sets of futons with quick, precise movements.
Even though embarrassment threatened to consume him, he couldn’t stop himself from laying out the futons closely beside each other, leaving almost no space in between. His hands hesitated for a split second, but he didn’t adjust them—he wanted Tanjiro near.
Tanjiro, who had been watching in silence, suddenly found himself frozen on the spot. His heart skipped a beat as his gaze fell on the nearly touching futons. How am I supposed to sleep like this...? A warmth spread through his chest, a mix of happiness and nervous excitement.
And then, a memory surfaced—back in the Swordsmith Village, when they had already shared a futon once before. Back then, Muichiro had curled up so close to him, nestled securely in his arms. Tanjiro hadn’t imagined he would get the chance to hold him like that again so soon. And then he felt the heat creeping up his own face, his cheeks burning as much as Muichiro’s ears. Still, even as his face turned red, Tanjiro couldn’t stop the soft, almost shy smile that formed on his lips.
Muichiro, now even more embarrassed, quickly turned around and pulled open another shelf, taking out his night attire. Without a word, he started changing, his back to Tanjiro.
Seeing this, Tanjiro jolted back to reality and hurried to open his bag, fumbling for his pajamas. Turning away from Muichiro, he quickly changed as well.
Neither of them dared to look at each other. The air between them was thick with nervous energy, their hearts racing, neither knowing how to handle so much privacy all at once.
Without turning around, Muichiro announced in a quiet voice, "I'll blow out the lamp… get in your futon already."
Before Tanjiro could respond, the room was plunged into darkness. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, the only source of light now being the faint glow of the moon filtering through the paper doors. The air was still, the silence settling around them like a thin veil.
Hurriedly, Tanjiro crawled into his futon, lying on his back as he listened to the quiet rustling beside him. The futon next to him shifted, and Muichiro settled down, his back facing Tanjiro.
Tanjiro hesitated, unsure of what to say, or if he should say anything at all. But then, before he could even process what was happening, Muichiro suddenly turned over, closing the already small distance between them.
Tanjiro’s body reacted instinctively, shifting to his side as well, now facing Muichiro directly. Their faces were so close that their noses almost touched, the warmth of Muichiro’s breath mingling with his own. And then, before he could even blink, Muichiro leaned in, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips before immediately retreating, lowering his head.
Tanjiro almost jolted in surprise, his heart hammering against his ribs. He couldn’t even see Muichiro’s expression in the dim light. It wasn’t their first kiss and in the past weeks, they had exchanged a few stolen ones—small, fleeting touches whenever no one was watching. But still, every single time, it felt new, unfamiliar yet exhilarating. And once again, just like always, Muichiro had been the one to act first—always so quick, so effortlessly decisive, just like he was in battle.
But before Tanjiro could gather his thoughts, he felt Muichiro’s hand hesitantly gripping his sleeve. Ahis face pressing into the crook of Tanjiro’s neck. Slowly, his arms moved, slipping around Tanjiro’s back in a full embrace.
Tanjiro’s body reacted before his mind could, his arms wrapping around Muichiro without hesitation, holding him close. And then—a small, sorrowful scent reached his nose. Bittersweet, laced with something heavy, something aching. "Tokito-kun...?" he called out softly.
Muichiro didn't lift his head. Instead, his voice came out quietly, hesitantly, as though the words were difficult to form.
"Tanjiro... would you mind visiting a place with me tomorrow?"
Tanjiro didn't need to think. Whatever it was, he could feel how important it was to Muichiro—something he didn’t want to face alone.
"Of course," he responded immediately. "I’ll follow you wherever you want to go."
The grip on his pajama tightened. Muichiro's fingers curled into the fabric, almost pulling.
"I… I want to go home, Tanjiro…"
And in that instant, Tanjiro understood.
Muichiro wasn’t talking about this estate—the place where he lived now. He was talking about his home. The mountain where he had grown up. The place where he had also lost everything.
Thank you… Tanjiro.
Muichiro thought the words, but he was too tired to say them aloud. His eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion of the day settling deep into his bones, heavier than he wanted to admit. But here, pressed against Tanjiro, feeling the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat, the tension that had lingered in his body finally melted away. The warmth surrounding him was comforting, safe. Slowly, he drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Tanjiro remained still, listening to the soft, steady breaths against him. Muichiro had fallen asleep just like that—curled against him, his delicate hands still lightly gripping the fabric of his pajama. It made his heart ache and swell at the same time.
A deep blush spread across Tanjiro’s face, but as his fingers absentmindedly ran through the silky strands of Muichiro’s long hair, the flustered feeling gradually faded. He wanted this moment to last forever.
It felt as if the world outside had ceased to exist.
No demons, no battles, no responsibilities. Just the two of them, here, holding each other—existing in a way Tanjiro had never imagined possible. A love so simple, yet overwhelming in its depth.
Slowly, Tanjiro closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the warmth.