Chapter Text
It begins in a slow rush of air into the lungs.
The grind of warming metal into the heel of a palm, just enough to sting but not enough to bleed.
The dizzy course of prickling heat, down the cheeks, down the chest, skipping over the legs and out through the feet.
A pregnant berth of air, shimmering with electricity that leaps over the ground, keeping a static hold over the airborne dust.
The white-hot burst that releases into the cold night air, raw and all-consuming.
A stuttering gasp.
A sigh of relief.
⟡⟡
Fuck, not again.
Zenitsu glares at the paper pinned to his door, and its contents – Eviction Notice – in black ink and bold, clear kanji.
The ink looked expensive, had dripped down the paper in a smooth line before it had dried. Zenitsu glared harder.
“That stingy hag,” he mutters under his breath.
The paper gave no answer, billowing innocently in the afternoon breeze.
His own voice echoes in the back of his brain: A monster! She’s definitely a monster hag!
And a swift and sharp Quit that! from his left side–
Zenitsu finally stops glaring at the screen and opens it with a sigh.
He’s really fond of this room. The morning sunlight streams through the windows, warming the worn tatami under his feet. His shamisen sits propped against the futon cabinet, and his small cabinet of teacups and sake jars wink at him from across the room. Sounds of the street drift up from below and from between the thin walls, neighbors getting ready for the day and the first rickshaws making their rounds.
Zenitsu stands in the doorway for a minute, inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth, letting the noise wash over him.
He’s never gotten used to this. Hopping from place to place was never an issue before he joined the corps, but now? He wants nothing more than to find somewhere that stays him for six months.
Zenitsu lets himself collapse on the tatami one last time, picks up his woven sandogasa hat. his bedroll. his shamisen. each item bends his back with the weight of not knowing when he will be able to put them down again. His katana sits heavy in his hands, the metal singing of easier times.
He doesn't look back.
⟡⟡
The demons hadn't all died when Muzan did. Though he and the Kizuki had been taken care of, thereby preventing the creation of new demons, some lower ranked demons had survived in the shadows. The remaining Corps members exterminated them within the year.
It's a small miracle that he finds out in person and not by Chuntaro.
(he will never forget the last time he received news via his sparrow, when he was alone with the rushing of the river and the crushing knowledge of his mentor’s suicide.)
He had just gotten back from a solo mission—he was strong enough to handle them on his own, it seemed he was always on his own—and was rushing to make the Hashira meeting he was late for.
He manages to catch the announcement through the screen door in Sanemi's gruff drawl.
"-disbanding the Corps-"
"-free to go-"
He slams open the door in time to see the words leave Giyuu's mouth. "You are dismissed."