Chapter Text
The thing about Kimetsu Academy was that it was too damn big.
Genya Shinazugawa had been attending for two years now, and he still got turned around in the south wing. Which was exactly how he found himself standing in front of a classroom he'd never seen before, squinting at his schedule like it was written in a foreign language.
"You look lost."
Genya's head snapped up. Standing in the doorway was possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen—long black hair fading to mint green at the tips, eyes like a clear winter sky, and an expression of such serene blankness that Genya couldn't tell if he was being helpful or mocking.
"I'm not lost," Genya said automatically, his face heating. "I'm just—"
"Lost," the boy repeated, drifting closer with an ethereal sort of grace. He peered at Genya's schedule.
"History. That's two floors up. You're in the science wing."
"Oh." Genya felt his ears burn. "Right. Thanks."
The boy tilted his head, studying Genya with unsettling intensity. "You're a second year?"
"Third year," Genya corrected, trying not to sound defensive. He knew he looked young. His older brother never let him forget it.
"Mm." Those pale eyes traveled over him once more, and Genya felt pinned in place like a butterfly in a collection. "I'm Muichiro. Tokito Muichiro. Second year."
"Genya. Shinazugawa Genya."
A ghost of a smile touched Muichiro's lips. "You should hurry. Rengoku-sensei doesn't like tardiness." He turned to leave, then paused. "The stairs are that way. Don't get lost again."
Genya stood frozen for a moment after Muichiro disappeared down the hall, his heart doing something stupid in his chest.
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He made it to History with thirty seconds to spare, sliding into a seat near the back. Tanjiro Kamado, his friend since first year, leaned over from the next desk.
"You okay? You look weird."
"I'm fine," Genya muttered.
"Your face is really red."
"Shut up."
Tanjiro grinned, but mercifully dropped it. At least until lunch, when they were sitting in the cafeteria and Genya found his eyes scanning the crowd without meaning to.
"Looking for someone?" Tanjiro asked, too innocently.
"No."
"Uh-huh." Tanjiro took a bite of his rice. "So who is he?"
Genya nearly choked on his water. "What? No one. I'm not—"
"Genya." Tanjiro's voice was gentle but knowing. "We've been friends for two years. I know when something's up."
Genya slumped in his seat, debating. Tanjiro was... safe. He didn't judge. He didn't make fun. He just listened with those earnest red eyes and actually tried to help.
"There was this guy," Genya admitted quietly. "This morning. Tokito Muichiro? He helped me find my class and I just—" He made a frustrated gesture. "It was stupid. I probably won't even see him again."
Tanjiro's expression shifted into something Genya couldn't quite read. Surprise? Concern? "Tokito-kun? You met Tokito-kun?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Oh! No reason. He's just—he's in my chemistry class. He's really nice." Tanjiro's smile was back, but there was something thoughtful behind it now. "You should talk to him more! I bet you two would get along."
Genya very much doubted that someone who looked like Muichiro would want anything to do with someone who looked like him, but he appreciated Tanjiro's optimism.
As if summoned by their conversation, Genya spotted Muichiro the next day in the library. He was sitting alone by the window, reading a book with that same faraway expression, mint-green hair catching the afternoon light.
Genya's feet carried him over before his brain could intervene.
"Hey," he said, then immediately wanted to punch himself for such a lame opening.
Muichiro looked up, and for a moment, Genya could have sworn he saw curiousity in those pale eyes.
Interest, even.
"Can I help you?" Muichiro asked.
"I just—you helped me yesterday. With finding my class. I wanted to say thanks properly."
"Oh." Muichiro blinked slowly. "You're welcome."
An awkward silence stretched between them. Genya scrambled for something, anything, to say.
"What are you reading?"
Muichiro held up the book—some fantasy novel Genya had never heard of. "It's about a knight who forgets his quest every time the sun sets. He has to leave himself clues to remember."
Something about that made Genya's chest ache, though he couldn't say why. "Is it good?"
"I think so." Muichiro's eyes drifted back to the page. "But I'll have to read it again to be sure."
It felt like a dismissal, but not an unkind one. Genya took the hint and left, but not before noticing the title of the book. Maybe he'd check it out later. You know. Just to have something to talk about.
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Over the rest of the day, Genya found excuses to run into Muichiro. The library. The vending machines. The courtyard where Muichiro apparently liked to watch clouds during lunch. Each time, they'd talk for a few minutes—never long, but enough that Genya started to learn little things. Muichiro liked sweet foods. He was good at chemistry but found history boring. He had an older twin brother who was "protective."
Each conversation felt like unwrapping a gift, discovering something new and precious.
By the end of the school day, Genya had worked up the courage to ask for Muichiro's number. They were standing by the shoe lockers, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, and Muichiro had just said something that made Genya laugh—actually laugh, which didn't happen often.
"Hey, um." Genya pulled out his phone, trying to look casual. "Could I get your number? Maybe we could hang out sometime. Outside of school."
Muichiro regarded him for a long moment, and Genya's heart hammered in his chest. Then, slowly, Muichiro smiled—a real smile, small but genuine.
"Sure."
They exchanged numbers. Genya left school that day feeling like he was walking on air.
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Tuesday morning, Genya spotted Muichiro in the hallway before first period. Perfect. He jogged over, grinning.
"Hey, Tokito! Morning."
Muichiro turned, and Genya's smile faltered.
Those pale eyes held no recognition. No warmth. Just polite, distant confusion.
"I'm sorry," Muichiro said softly. "Do I know you?"
The hallway seemed to tilt. Genya's mouth opened and closed uselessly.
"I—we talked. Yesterday. We exchanged numbers?"
Muichiro's expression didn't change. "I don't remember that. I'm sorry."
He wasn't being cruel. That was somehow worse. He genuinely didn't remember. A day of careful conversations, of slowly building something fragile and new, just... gone.
"Right," Genya managed. "My mistake. Sorry."
He turned and walked away before Muichiro could say anything else, his chest tight and his mind reeling.
What the hell just happened?
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"Tanjiro."
Genya found his friend between second and third period, cornering him by the stairs. Tanjiro took one look at Genya's face and his expression crumpled with sympathy.
"You talked to Tokito-kun again."
"He doesn't remember me." Genya's voice came out harsher than he intended. "We spent all yesterday talking and he looked at me like I was a complete stranger. What—is this some kind of joke? Did I do something to piss him off?"
"No! No, Genya, it's not like that." Tanjiro glanced around, then lowered his voice. "Can we talk somewhere private?"
They ended up in an empty classroom. Tanjiro sat on one of the desks, and Genya tried not to pace.
"Tokito-kun has a condition," Tanjiro said quietly. "He can't form new memories. Every night when he goes to sleep, everything from that day gets erased. He wakes up and it's like the previous day never happened."
Genya stopped moving. "What?"
"It happened last year. There was an accident—he and his brother were in it. His brother was okay, but Muichiro-kun..." Tanjiro's expression was pained. "The doctors think it might be permanent. He remembers everything before the accident, but nothing after. So since every morning resets, he doesn't remember yesterday."
The room felt too small suddenly. Genya sat down heavily in one of the chairs.
"That's why you looked weird when I mentioned him."
"I should have told you," Tanjiro said miserably. "I just—I thought maybe you'd figure it out, or maybe you wouldn't want to pursue it if you knew, and I didn't want to share something that wasn't my story to tell, but—"
"It's fine." Genya's mind was racing. That book Muichiro had been reading. The knight who forgot his quest. Jesus. "Does he know? About his condition?"
"His brother tells him every morning. They have a system—journals, notes, videos. But it's mostly just practical stuff. School assignments. Routines." Tanjiro hesitated. "I don't think anyone outside his family really tries to get close to him anymore. It's too hard."
Too hard.
Genya thought about Muichiro's smile on Monday. The way he'd laughed at Genya's stupid joke. The careful way he'd input his number into Genya's phone, like it mattered.
"That's bullshit," Genya said.
Tanjiro blinked. "What?"
"That's bullshit. Just because he can't remember doesn't mean—" Genya stood up, jaw set. "He's still a person. He still deserves to have friends. To be treated like he matters."
"Genya..." Tanjiro's voice was soft. "What are you going to do?"
Genya didn't have an answer yet. But as he walked to his next class, his mind churned with possibilities.
If Muichiro forgot every day, then Genya would just have to make him fall for him every day.
How hard could it be?