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Sometimes Zenitsu can endure it, but times such as today are challenging for him, to put it mildly. Sure, his reputation as the crybaby of the group is something he’ll never shake away from his image, but little does everyone know about his real struggles, some which he’s grown tired of complaining about. After a long day of fighting demons and screaming for hours on end, he’d finally reached the breaking point.
He was used to his sensitive hearing and could normally tune it out, but prolonged stress weakened his ability to do so. Despite having arrived safely at the butterfly manor, Zenitsu feels almost ill. The ringing in his ear hasn’t faded at all, and the group’s constant screaming doesn’t help. He’d say something back, but right now, he really doesn’t want to talk at all.
His head is pulsating in pain, his ears are in worse condition. On days that are so overwhelming, like today, he has learned a few coping tools to make it a little more bearable. Even if he puts small cotton balls in his ears, the sound is still loud enough to drill inside his brain. So, at first, he’d isolate himself in a desperate attempt to reduce the auditory overload, but that’d end up making him feel miserable, as he hates to be alone. With the help of his friends, as well as Gramps, he has learned sign language to reduce stress.
While he didn't like isolation, he still wanted quiet when he felt overwhelmed. Zenitsu quickly excuses himself from the table where his friends, Tanjirou and Inosuke, are chatting, and he heads outside for a breather. The training has been excruciating already, and to make matters worse, his friends are getting worked up about all they want to improve.
Zenitsu can hear everything on the way outside. The jarring sound of the leaves bustling with the wind, the loud hammering of his steps on the hardwood, the shredding of his clothes moving against each other. It’s all too much ; the only thing he wants is to sit and look at the sky to find a semblance of silence.
As he holds his head in his hands, he hears hammering approaching him. Despite his gentleness in his movements, Tanjirou still can be a source of stress for Zenitsu. He raises his head, his eyes darting to the sound source. With a guilty gaze, Tanjirou apologizes with his hands before slowly sitting beside him.
“Bad day?” he signs.
Zenitsu can only nod in response. He can see the way Tanjirou tilts his head, thinking on how to help his friend. But it’s clear there’s no solution for this, so Zenitsu quickly moves to reassure him.
“Not much can be done.”
Tanjirou’s shoulders drop. He tilts his head, thinking of what to say. Unlike Zenitsu, it takes his friends a lot more time to sign a sentence, so he observes each sign as they appear.
“ How about…” He points at his ears, simulating the ear plugs.
Zenitsu shakes his head, pointing at his ears already clogged with cotton. He shrugs. Tanjirou’s worried gaze deepens as he realizes there’s not much he can do to help his friend.
He appreciates the worry, and he knows how caring Tanjirou can be, to the point of belittling himself if his suggestions aren’t helpful. Zenitsu sighs, the sound of his nostrils releasing waves of air similar to scratching a wall. He frowns—he shouldn’t have done that.
“ We can just sit here in silence, ” Zenitsu signs to his friend. “ The day is really nice. ”
Tanjirou perks up immediately, smiling fondly. He nods eagerly, looking at the sky in the company of his comrade. Zenitsu appreciates how quiet he’s being today—even his heartbeat is more even and softer than usual.
He definitely overdid it this time. The pain in his jaw has only worsened once the adrenaline of the fight wore off. During the battle against a pretty tough demon, Genya, in another act of despair, bit into the demon’s flesh weapon and swallowed it without a second thought.
Even now that it’s all over and he’s having some leisure time with friends, the feeling of that horrendous piece of meat sliding down his throat disgusts him. Without the thrill of the battle keeping him distracted, his time thinking about the gruesome details increases. Whenever the memory flashes, he gags and has to excuse himself from the conversation. The slimy feeling makes him nauseous, unable to eat without having flashbacks and visions of the human-turned-demon flesh.
On top of everything, there’s the constant ache in his teeth, his jaw, the corner of his lips. Even with the treatment and constant check-ups provided by the insect hashira, there’s only so much that can be done with the toothache. Every meal is a struggle; every smell gets distorted. He feels on edge most of the time. He tries not to give it much thought, but he instead ends up overthinking this cursed ability of his, his mind now plagued with such images and textures inside his throat.
As he walks into another room, he smells lavender flowers in a vase near his bed. He knows, to some extent, that the girls from the butterfly manor are aware of his nausea, but for some reason he believes this isn’t their work this afternoon. He sits on the edge of his freshly done bed, staring at the vase.
It’s calming; he can focus on all his other senses when he looks at the small, brittle lavender flowers. The color, one of his favorites, is appealing to the gaze, the smell enough to lessen his disgust from earlier. He doesn’t dare touch it, however, because even today he cannot seem to control his strength after turning half-demon.
As his mind diverts to the memories of his bonsais waiting at Himejima’s place, he hears footsteps approaching. Given the sweet humming that follows, he knows very well who that could be. He glances at the door over his shoulder.
“Ah, Genya!” Tanjirou speaks, his eyes gleaming with joy. “I see you found the flowers!”
“Of course it was you,” he mumbles under his breath, looking at the rather simple white vase again.
He chuckles as he walks inside, already invading his personal space and sitting by his side. “I noticed that after a mission, you get really sick. So, I brought flowers, so you can feel less nauseous. Did it work?”
Genya sighs. It did. He doesn’t want to say it aloud, though. He slowly reaches for one of the stems, holding it between his fingers. The feeling of the silky, tiny petals warms his heart. He closes his eyes, sighing deeply again.
“It did,” he breathes, turning to face him. “Thank you.”
Tanjirou’s eyes beam with joy, his grin wide from ear to ear. “I’m glad!”
He releases the stem, crossing his arms. “It’s quite hard to get over it. The whole nausea thing.”
“I can tell,” Tanjirou answers with a pout. “I always thought you needed a tough jaw and stomach to endure eating…” He doesn’t say the word, perhaps knowing deep inside it’s a touchy subject for Genya.
“…Demons, yeah.” He says it out loud. “Perhaps it’s because of the thrill of the moment, but it doesn’t disgust me as much when I’m doing it. It’s the aftermath that throws me off.”
Tanjirou nods, almost understanding. “Must be really upsetting…”
Genya tilts his head, thinking about it. It was upsetting at first, but he got used to it. There are times it’s absolutely unbearable, but there are other times, like today, where it’s a little manageable, and he doesn’t have to rush to the bathroom. Either way, his appetite just plummets, and that’s something he cannot seem to work his way around.
“I’m sure one day it’ll get better, though,” Tanjirou adds with a smile. “You’re very resilient, Genya.”
The two of them stare at the flower vase, one of them a bit sicker than the other. However, as the time passes, and the company becomes more comforting, his pain subsides, and the dizziness fades. In a way, he’s grateful to have friends that care for him this way, and he wonders if one day he’ll be able to return the helping hand.
After what felt like an endless night, Tanjirou finally arrived at the comfort of the butterfly manor. However, the smell of the wisteria flowers and the incense they used inside the building wasn’t welcomed by his burning nostrils. The demon’s blood art targeted his strength, then turned weakness, by overwhelming him with a horrid, putrid odor similar to that of decomposing life. It was so intense and maddening that his nose became incredibly sensitive—any other smell would only lead to another wave of nausea striking his body.
Despite the stress caused by the heightened sense of smell and the toll it’s taking on his psyche, he acts with gratitude towards the staff that so kindly filled the rooms with a sweet aroma. He also greets his friends, who are training together, with his usual smile before heading to a secluded room where he can drop Nezuko off. Every step he makes feels like a new form of torture; everywhere he turns he’s faced with a different scent that upsets his body once again.
He tries to pretend. He ignores his body’s signals, the small changes that beg for him to shut everyone off and focus on recovering. With his index finger, he tries to wipe the numbing sensation on the tip of his nose, but he’s well aware that’s not going to help at all. He hopes no one notices he’s on the edge. Being a burden is what he dislikes the most.
Once he’s finally alone, he sits in his bed. He had grabbed some tissue on the way, and he starts rolling it to make two small plugs he immediately inserts into his nostrils. They ache slightly as he almost desperately shoves them in, but he was on the very edge at that point. The smell doesn’t fade yet, but at least there aren’t new scents coming in. His hands tremble as he drops them on his lap, sighing deeply.
After some long minutes trying to control his breathing, he hears a voice.
“Found you at last,” Genya mumbles with a sigh of relief. “See? I knew something was up.”
Tanjirou opens his eyes, and he finds two figures. Both of them looked worried in their distinctive ways. Genya simply sighs as he crosses his arms, while Zenitsu seems like he’s about to cry any time.
“Are you okay?” Zenitsu comments, his voice showing clear concern.
“Ah… Yeah… I’m good—”
“You don’t seem so good,” Genya interrupts, sitting on the edge of his bed. He points at the tissue peeking from his nostrils. “Got a nosebleed?”
Tanjirou is well aware he cannot lie to them. He can pretend, sure, and he can downplay his problems to not worry anyone. But he cannot lie. He shakes his head.
Zenitsu walks around the bed, sitting on the edge as well. “Since you came back from your mission, you’re pale and keep sniffing. Did something happen?”
“Yeah. The demon’s blood art…”
He explains the issue with little detail but enough to make them understand. After all, what he wants least right now is to remember every odor that attacked his senses. He can see his friends frowning in concern and tilting their heads, trying to think of a solution.
Genya sighs after a while, and he reaches for something inside his pocket.
“We figured it could’ve been something like that, so we asked Aoi if she could give us some nose plugs.” He opens his fist, his palm revealing two plugs that resemble those conic shapes the kakushi gave him before they started their journey to the swordsmith village.
Tanjirou’s eyes widen when he sees them. He remembers when he wore them back then—he couldn’t smell anything, and if he did, it was really faint. He reaches for the makeshift plugs made of tissue, pulling them out and dropping them in the trash can. The whole process of switching to the aids provided by Genya is done quickly, as Tanjirou’s holding his breath.
“Is that better?” Zenitsu asks.
“A lot better,” he sighs in relief. “Thank you, guys.”
The two of them stare at each other after Tanjirou’s grateful words, smiling fondly. Genya stands up, getting hold of the vase with the freshly cut flowers to keep the sweet scent away from him. On the other side, Zenitsu hands Tanjirou an extra set of nose plugs.
They all know company is appreciated at times, but they both are also aware of allowing the other to have some time alone. At least that’s what they said as they were heading outside. However, they were abruptly stopped by Tanjirou’s words:
“We… we can spend time together, like always. I don’t mind.”
They both cast a sidelong glance at the other, nodding in agreement. That afternoon, Tanjirou feels immensely grateful for the friends he made along the way during his long journey to find a cure for his sister. Without them, he doesn’t know if things would’ve gone as smoothly for him.
The three of them spent most of their time together that afternoon complaining about the downside of their abilities.