Archive of Our Own ^beta

Zenitsu already knew he wasn’t ‘normal’. When feeling frazzled, which was often due to his enhanced hearing, his feelings would overflow, and he would cry. He would be loud, tears and snot running down his face. One lady at the orphanage once said he made the babies stop crying, startled into silence by his loud wails.

Boys weren’t meant to be overly sensitive. Other boys loved to tease him for being a cry baby, calling him a loser, among other names. The girls laughed behind his back, though the younger ones tended to be more sympathetic towards him.

So, Zenitsu stuck to the younger girls. They were kind enough to let him sit with them, though oftentimes, their conversations didn’t interest him. The new clothes the orphanage had given them, or how one of the boys had stolen snacks from the kitchen. What did interest him, though, was the talk about marriage.

He liked girls! They were kind to him, or at least kinder than the boys. If marrying a girl was required to be normal, so be it! Maybe his peers would finally see him as their equal. Beyond the tears and wailing, he could be a strong and dependable man. Enough so that a girl would want to marry him!

***

It turned out that the younger girls at the orphanage were the exception. In the world beyond the walls of the orphanage, the women were cruel and cold. His first love had left him in debt and forced him to become a demon slayer. Though demon slayers were cool, with their uniforms and swords, the profession didn’t suit his lifestyle. The idea of killing demons made him anxious, which made him scared of the tiniest sounds he heard during the night. It had taken him years to differentiate the heartbeats of small critters and demons.

So after another sleepless night, fearing he would be jumped by a demon at any moment, Zenitsu was at his limits. The moment a pretty, young woman had asked him if he was okay, he latched onto her. She had asked out of politeness, and Zenitsu could hear her heart wasn’t in it. But he was just so tired. He could be killed next week, and he had accomplished nothing. No demon killed, not having mastered another Thunder Breathing form and not having married someone. If he accomplished one of these things, gramps might be proud. And at worst, he wouldn’t be alone.

He was screeching, sobbing and begging, knowing fully well she wouldn’t say yes. But he at least tried. Because if not her, who else? A demon who was going to kill him tonight, he knew it for sure.

Then, someone pulled him off her, a tight grip on his haori. The girl bolted, yelling at him she already had a fiancé and that he was a loser. He doubted that she would’ve been interested even without the fiancé.

He didn’t know the teen's name, but the sight of him was familiar. He was one of the four people who had passed the final selection. Zenitsu recognised his burgundy hair, the red eyes and foremost, the steady and strong rhythm of his heartbeat. A steady beat that told Zenitsu he was strong, sure of himself and kind.

Zenitsu hoped this guy couldn’t hear his heartbeat. It was irregular and fast, and Zenitsu felt his cheeks heat up as this guy kept looking at him, clearly unamused. The guy wasn’t even handsome. He was Zenitsu’s age, with still some baby fat on his cheeks and a scar on his forehead. But he had a steady heartbeat and kind eyes, and Zenitsu wished he felt this way towards women.

“What’s your name?” the other demon slayer asked, finally letting go of Zenitsu’s haori.

“Agatsuma Zenitsu,” Zentisu said. “Yours?”

“Kamado Tanjiro,” Tanjiro introduced himself.

This could be the start of a wonderful friendship, but Zenitsu expected to crash and burn by the end of the week.

***

Inosuke and Tanjiro weren’t the company Zenitsu would’ve picked himself. Though his companions were strong, they weren’t the cool demon slayers he had hoped to pair up with. Inosuke tried to pick a fight with Tanjiro at every turn and always wore a boar mask, having scared the living daylight out of Zenitsu multiple times. He wouldn’t be surprised if Inosuke was actually raised by boars. Tanjiro was reliable and at least sympathetic, though he carried a demon on his back. Neither of them was normal at all.

“Tanjiro,” Zentisu whispered once Inosuke was asleep. “Why do you carry a demon with you.”

Tanjiro blinked slowly. “You knew?”

Zenitsu, who was sitting cross-legged on his futon, nodded. “It’s hard to forget what the heartbeat of a demon sounds. It’s almost human, but not quite.”

During their walk to a safe place, it had been Tanjiro’s heartbeat Zenitsu had focused on. Not on the slightly unsteady gate of Tanjiro’s demon or Inosuke’s adrenaline-fuelled pace.

“Thank you,” Tanjiro said, his steady heartbeat matching the sincerity in his words. Not lying. “I doubted you at first, but my nose never let me down before. You’re a kind man.”

It might be the kindest thing someone ever said to him, and Zenitsu couldn’t really handle it. Tears strung his eyes as the stress of the day was catching up with him. He wasn’t cut out to be a demon slayer, something he would tell gramps in the next letter he would send. Demon slayers didn’t cry at the first surface-level compliment that was thrown their way.

“I’ll introduce you and explain.” Tanjiro walked over to his box and opened the latch.

Zenitsu reached for his katana, only to realise he wasn’t carrying it. Foolish. Even if Tanjiro was kind, they were still dealing with a demon.

A little girl rolled out of the box. Getting up on her feet, she grew in size. She had long black hair, pink eyes and a matching pink kimono. Her mouth was covered by a bamboo muzzle, likely to make the temptation to bite more difficult. All-in-all, Zenitsu figured she couldn’t be older than twelve.

“Your girlfriend!” Zenitsu exclaimed, feeling his fear being replaced by curiosity. Though having a demon as a girlfriend wasn’t conventional, she was pretty and clearly trusted Tanjiro. Maybe that was the solution to his problem.

Tanjiro looked at him with confusion. “No, Nezuko is my sister.”

They didn’t really look alike, but it suddenly made much more sense that Tanjiro was travelling with a demon.

Tanjiro looked at him expectantly. How was he supposed to react? Tell him he was sorry? Or that Nezuko was still cute? What reaction was Tanjiro expecting from him?

Then, it hit him. This was the perfect opportunity to throw Tanjiro off his scent.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had such a pretty sister!” Zenitsu screamed, watching Tanjiro’s face fall a little. He was getting awfully good at pretending.

***

Though he was supposed to fall in love with Nezuko, the fluttery feelings never came. He flirted with her, the comments all fairly surface level. Surprisingly, Tanjiro tolerated it. He even trusted that Zentisu would look after her while he helped out with the cooking and Inosuke was taking a well-needed bath. That boy wasn’t aware that the word hygiene existed.

“Is there anything you want to do?” he asked the young girl.

Nezuko sat opposite of him, running her fingers through her hair. Her hair was long and pretty, making Zenitsu only a little jealous. His hair was a hack job, done with the help of a knife the moment it got too long. He had tried it dye it back to black, but finding enough roots to create dye wasn’t worth his poor patch job. So his obnoxiously loud hair had to do.

She tugged on a strand, frowning at it.

“Do you want me to braid it so it’s out of your face?”

Nezuko made a muffled noise from behind her muzzle. Though Zenitsu hadn’t quite learnt what all her vocals ques meant—not like Tanjiro—he recognised the exciting light in her eyes.

He borrowed Tanjiro’s hairbrush and a couple of hairbands. He figured Tanjiro wouldn’t mind, especially seeing as Nezuko didn’t have her own luggage. Sitting behind the young girl, Zentisu started to untangle her hair. It was the most hair he had ever worked with, which was a little intimidating.

He ended up splitting her hair into two parts. Starting at her hairline, he started to weave three strands of hair together, adding little pieces to the right and left strands. As he had gathered all the strands, he ended up finishing up the rest of her hair with a simple braid. He tied it off with a hair band, letting the braid fall against her back. The back part of her head was a little wobbly, but Zentisu wasn’t too mad. It had been years since he had done anyone’s hair, so he was a little rusty.

Nezuko was patient as Zenitsu finished the other half of her hair. “And done,” he proudly announced.

The young girl touched her hair, letting one of the two braids slip between her fingers. Zenitsu got up, scrambling to his bag. There, he found a mirror. Not that he was a vain person, but there were times it was useful to use a mirror to look behind corners or redirect light.

“Here,” he said, handing Nezuko the mirror.

As she inspected herself, her face lit up. This time he knew she made a noise of happiness. She grabbed Zenitsu’s hand, and he felt his heart leap into his throat. It should be romantic, but all it did remind him of his orphanage days, when a girl much younger had come to him, sobbing as a boy had ruined her hair, and their caregiver had no time. She, too, had grabbed his hands in gratitude when he managed to make it look presentable.

“You’re welcome,” Zentisu said, squeezing her hands. “Do you want me to teach you?”

Instead of ruining Nezuko’s hair, he let her try with his hair. It technically wasn’t long enough, but he had learnt that practice was all that mattered. Her nails scraped his head as she tried to weave Zenitsu’s hair together. He could hear her frustrated huffs and the waves of silence as she focused. But he mainly focused on her heartbeat, waiting for it to shift to something more dangerous. Demons sounded different to humans, and Nezuko was no exception. But it still sounded kind, not unlike her brothers, and Zenitsu focused on that.

“Dinner is ready.”

Zenitsu screamed, jumped up and turned around, clutching his heart. Tanjiro was standing in the door opening, his expression soft.

“How long have you been spying on us?” Zenitsu shouted, fearing the worst. It was a must that Tanjiro believed he was head over heels in love with Nezuko!

“For a while,” Tanjiro admitted, his cheeks turning pink. “I thought you were ignoring me, as you always hear me coming.”

He was surprised that Tanjiro had picked up on that. He, Tanjiro and Inosuke had been travelling together for weeks now, and their footsteps had gotten familiar to him. Inosuke’s thread was feather-light, like a predator stalking its prey. Tanjiro’s was louder but steady and smooth. Not unlike his Water Breathing technique.

“No, I was preoccupied,” Zenitsu admitted. He told Nezuko goodbye, opting out of gushing over her beauty. His heart just wasn’t in it.

Zenitsu followed Tanjiro through the mansion, wondering what his friend was thinking. There was something on his mind; his regular breathing had slowed down. It was a tell-tale sign someone was thinking deeply.

“Thank you,” Tanjiro said out of the blue.

Zenitsu almost walked into Tanjiro, who had stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Thank you?”

Tanjiro looked at him, and Zenitsu felt his heart beat just a little faster. Tanjiro always had been kind, and he even had treated Zenitsu with kindness. But this felt different.

“For being so kind to Nezuko and for trusting me.”

“Of course, I trust you,” Zenitsu said. He trusted Tanjiro with his life.

“I know, but,” Tanjiro sighed, wrinkling his nose in frustration. “Nezuko is my sister, but she’s also a demon. You trusted her and me to an extent, enough so to turn your back to her, to let her touch you.”

Oh. Zenitsu had been aware of the risk and never truly let his guard down. But when she had looked at him with pleading eyes, he couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to treat her differently because she was a demon. He wouldn’t be any better than the boys in the orphanage that liked to make Zenitsu’s life hell. “She didn’t ask to be a demon, and she hasn’t hurt anyone, so why should I treat her like one?”

The last thing he expected was Tanjiro to take his hand, squeezing his fingers. “You’re really a kind person.”

Zenitsu was sure he was about to faint. His cheeks felt hot, and his heart was trying to break from his ribcage. Did Tanjiro notice? Maybe. Thankfully, he didn’t have Zenitsu’s keen sense of hearing. Maybe he could smell Zenitsu sweating, but hopefully, that was all.

“It was nothing,” Zenitsu babbled. “But let’s go before Inosuke eats all the food—I’m starving!”

He wrenched his hand free and marched past Tanjiro, ignoring Tanjiro’s amused huff. He had the feeling that his plan to fall for Nezuko was going to fail miserably.

***

He wasn’t sure how all of them had gotten out of the situation alive, and thinking too much about it hurt his brain. He, Tanjiro and Inosuke was admitted to the general medical wing of the Butterfly mansion. Rengoku, also known as the Flame Hashira, had a room for his own.

None of them knew how Rengoku had survived. Shinobu called it a miracle, and Zenitsu didn’t disagree. He had seen his life flash before his eyes, knowing once the demon was done with Rengoku, he, Tanjiro and Inosuke had been next. Likely, only poor Nezuko would’ve been spared.

Though not fully healed yet, Aoi allowed him to leave the hospital wing and breathe in some fresh air. A little bit later, Tanjiro joined him.

Zenitsu knew that Tanjiro should be inside and rest further. He still spends most of his day sleeping, trying to recover from his injuries. Aside from Rengoku, it had been Tanjiro who had sustained the most injuries. The fool.

“Are you alright?” Zenitsu asked.

Though Rengoku had lived, it seemed that something had broken Tanjiro’s spirit. Tanjiro hadn’t told them anything, though Zentisu could take a guess. If someone as strong and skilled as Rengoku couldn’t defeat an Upper Moon, what chance did they stand? Was it possible for Tanjiro to ever defeat Muzan and cure Nezuko?

“Do you know how old mister Rengoku is?” Tanjiro whispered.

Zenitsu shrugged. “Early twenties?”

“Twenty.”

That was barely four years older than them. It was hard to believe that most of the elite demon slayers barely were adults and that so very few reached retirement age.

“It makes me think, how long do we have left?” Tanjiro asked, reaching a hand up to the sun.

Zenitsu long ago accepted he likely would die young. He knew that gramps wouldn’t be surprised if he kicked the bucket before him. It wasn’t as if he wanted to die, but it was statistically likely he wouldn’t reach his mid-twenties.

“And, what do we want to do with our lives during that time?”

“No idea,” Zenitsu admitted. “Getting married, I suppose.”

He figured that he, at least somehow, could get the concept of marriage right. Find a woman, propose, and get married. If Zenitsu died a couple of years later in the line of duty, he knew that at least someone would remember him.

“Think of marrying Nezuko?” Tanjiro asked. He didn’t sound like an overprotective brother, but there was something off about his tone.

He had tried. He really had tried. He had pictured them tying the knot, her wiping away tears of happiness. But the scenes always played out with Tanjiro holding his hands, Nezuko crying that her brother is getting married. Zenitsu was sure that Tanjiro wasn’t even interested in men.

“Maybe,” Zenitsu admitted.

Tanjiro hummed. “Do you love her?”

Zenitsu knew that Tanjiro knew when he was lying, so he knew that there was no point. “No, but I like her.”

“Then, why are you so adamant about marrying her?” He still didn’t sound like an overprotective brother. Tanjiro sounded genuinely curious.

“It’s normal, right, wanting to get married?”

“It is,” Tanjiro agreed. “But, why marry someone you don’t love? I’m not sure how old I’ll get, but I like the idea of loving someone and maybe even marrying them. And if I never get married, I doubt anyone really cares.”

Zenitsu swallowed nervously. “But if you’re the last of your name?”

Tanjiro shrugged. “Then so be it. I imagine my parents want me to be happy and live life to the fullest instead of focusing on finding a girl to marry and get children with.”

Zenitsu was lost for words. Tanjiro hadn’t told him a lot about his parents, but looking at the Tanjiro he knew, he knew they did a marvellous job. If anyone had a reason to continue their legacy, it was Tanjiro. It didn’t matter that the Agatsuma family died with him. He had no relatives nor anyone he wanted to remember. And, maybe, it was better than he wouldn’t get any children. Imagine the poor child that got stuck with his genes?

“You’re okay?” Tanjiro asked, cocking his head ever so slightly. “You smell distressed.”

“It’s nothing!” Zenitsu exclaimed. “Just thinking. Maybe you’re right. It isn’t like I’ve any reason to get children.”

These words left Tanjiro confused. “But aren’t your parents the ones pressuring you to get married.”

Tanjiro never told him much about what happened to his family, but Zenitsu wasn’t any different. He always skirted around the subject of family, only ever mentioning gramps.

“I was raised in an orphanage,” Zenitsu admitted in a whisper, fearful that the girls from the Butterfly mansion were listening. “I’ve never met my parents.”

“Oh.”

There was no pity, but there was a level of understanding. Zenitsu had no idea what Tanjiro was thinking, not even when the fool wrapped his arm around his shoulder, making them both wince.

“We’ll be there for you,” Tanjiro whispered, laying his head against Zenitsu’s shoulder. “Me, Nezuko, Inosuke. As long as we’re here, you don’t have to be alone.”

The words caught him off guard. Alone? It never had been about being alone; it always had been about fitting in. It was normal to get married, and he felt like this was the only way… was it? It wasn’t as if being a demon hunter was normal, and he was friends with two oddballs and a demon. Nothing about it made him seem normal, so what difference would marriage make?

Before he realised it, he started crying. Burying his face into Tanjiro’s injured side, he let himself pour all his feelings into his tears. Why did it take him so long to realise this? And why did Tanjiro, of all people, figure it out?

***

The Entertainment District was busy. Though Zenitsu had grown up in the city, this was entirely different. It was loud, filled with people and many bright lights. Zenitsu was amazed, but he also wanted to crawl under the covers and smother his head with a pillow. It was all too much; the people, the music, the noise of grinding gears.

The anxiety that had been building in his chest faded as a strong, calloused hand grabbed his. His gaze caught Tanjiro’s, his smile soft and comforting.

Inosuke, seeing everything as a challenge, grabbed Zenitsu’s other hand and triumphantly said he was the better hand-holder. Mister Uzui just looked at them with a raised eyebrow, clearly unamused. Zenitusu didn’t care because it suddenly all got more bearable, with the steady rhythm of his friends’ heartbeats to keep him occupied.

His calm mood didn’t last long. He had been sceptical after hearing Mister Uzui’s plan to disguise them as women to find his wives. But upon getting dressed and dolled up, Zenitsu realised that mister Uzui might never have dressed a girl in his life, despite having three wives.

“No,” Zenitsu said, looking at his friends. “This won’t work.”

Mister Uzui glared at him, crossing his arms in frustration. “Oh, can you do better?”

Unfortunately, he could. During his time at the orphanage, the staff was quick to realise that the younger girls had taken a shine to him. So they had taught him to do hair, cut hair, and even apply make-up if necessary. He was a free set of extra hands.

Inosuke was an easy fix. Though Inosuke was a baby about Zenitsu wiping his face clean, it did wonders for his appearance. His dark hair fell just past his chin, and his green eyes pop against the little coal he added.

Tanjiro, on the other hand, was a little more difficult.

“Is it okay if I cut your hair a little?” Zenitsu asked. The make-up hid his scar, but eventually, it had to go. But hair was permanent.

“Sure,” Tanjiro said. “I trust you.”

Inosuke kept darting around him, asking him what he was doing. He gently trimmed Tanjiro’s bangs with a dagger, making sure the fine hairs covered his forehead. He still looked tomboyish, having a masculine face to begin with. But the little red of his cheeks and lips softened his face enough to make him look feminine.

“Not bad,” Inosuke said, inspecting Tanjiro’s face. “But I make the best girl.”

“Yes, you do,” Zenitsu said.

Inosuke laughed in delight. He wasn’t sure if it was an actual compliment, but Inosuke was competitive and being the best at something always made him happy.

“What about you?” Tanjiro asked as Zenitsu was digging through the things mister Uzui had brought for them.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have a pretty face to work with,” Zenitsu said, unable to stop a wry smile. “But I at least can try to blend in.”

It took him way too long to finish. The bathroom reeked from the boiled plant roots, and he had ruined the towel he had borrowed. But as he looked in the mirror, he saw a stranger look back at him. His golden eyes remained, but his hair was once again pitch black, just like his eyebrows. The dark colour helped hide the unevenness of his cut.

He exited the bathroom to find a bored Inosuke, impatient mister Uzui and a curious Tanjiro.

“Sorry that it took so long,” Zenitsu muttered.

All three men stared at him. He wasn’t sure which gaze was more unnerving. Mister Uzui's, whose gaze held a certain level of surprise and respect or Tanjiro, who looked disappointed.

“What did you do with your hair?” Inosuke asked, bouncing up to Zenitsu to take a closer look. “And why does it smell like plants?”

“Black dye can be made out of plant roots,” Zenitsu muttered. “I figured it would make me blend in easier.”

“It does,” mister Uzui nodded. “Though, it makes you look really boring. Blond looks much more exciting on you.”

“Thanks,” Zenitsu muttered, feeling self-conscious. Maybe he should’ve kept it blond after all and assumed that Inosuke and Tanjiro would get the job done.

“Well, I guess that it’s time for you three to find my wives,” mister Usui said. “And maybe I’ll fetch a good price for you three.”

***

This time, it was Tanjiro who nearly died. Zenitsu had little memory of the battle. The only reminders were their battered and bruised bodies, requiring a long more time to recover than ever before.

“Your hair is growing out again,” Tanjiro remarked one evening.

Zenitsu had noticed too. It was hard to believe how much had passed since they had defeated an Upper Moon. The clash between faded black and blond made his hair look worse.

“I probably have to redye it,” Zenitsu sighed.

They were sitting on a porch outside the Butterfly mansion, taking in the sunset.

“I like the blond on you,” Tanjiro blurted out.

Zenitsu took a strand of hair between his fingers, trying to spot the bit of blond that was peeking through. “It’s easier to not dye it, I guess.”

Tanjiro nodded along.

“Fine, I’ll let it grow out,” Zenitsu said. “But you better not lie to me; if I ever find out that my hair colour is the reason why no girl was ever interested in me, you have to repent.”

Tanjiro laughed. It seemed that his empty threats no longer worked on him. Zenitsu sighed. He could only imagine how insufferable his friend would become.

***

Though they had finished their mission fairly unscathed, Zenitsu dragged his feet on their return journey. They had succeeded in killing the demon, but it didn’t bring a dozen-or-so people back to life.

Tanjiro suddenly stopped, inhaling deeply. It immediately set Zenitsu’s nerves on end. Another demon? Now? He hadn’t heard anything out of the ordinary.

“I think we’re close to an orchard,” Tanjiro remarked. “It smells very sweet.”

Inosuke snorted through his mask. “Peaches?”

“Peaches!” Tanjiro agreed. “At least, I think so.”

Upon the mention of peaches, Zenitsu took in his surroundings. Though the road looked like any other country-side road, it was the landmarks that he recognised. There were large blossom trees, the oddly shaped rock and even a couple of abandoned buildings Zenitsu once hid in.

“I know where we are!” Zenitsu exclaimed. “We can take a bath!”

Inosuke didn’t share his excitement for a hot bath, but upon the promise of warm food, Inosuke was happy to take the detour.

They passed the peach orchard. Inosuke stole some peaches, which ended them being changed by an angry farmer until he realised Zenitsu was very much willing to pay. Too much for the state of the peaches, but Zenitsu was worried that their actions would put a stain on gramps's reputation.

A few people recognised Zenitsu, waving in surprise. Likely, they had expected him to be long dead. He, too, had doubted ever returning here alive. He even wondered if gramps wanted to see him; he had little to show.

“You grew up here?” Tanjiro asked.

Zenitsu shook his head. “No, I grew up in the city. Gramps eventually took me in, which meant I lived here during my training.”

Gramps lived in a small, three-room home. He and Kaigaku oftentimes shared one of the rooms, while the other belonged to gramps, and there was the main living area. It was cramped, but it was the only home Zenitsu had known.

Knocking on the door, he wondered if gramps even was home. Zenitsu hadn’t announced his arrival, though gramps wasn’t the one to travel around. His age and missing leg made it rather hard to do so.

Gramps opened the door, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Hi, gramps,” Zenitsu said, already feeling nervous. What if he told Tanjiro and Inosuke embarrassing stories? “We just finished a mission, and seeing as we’re around, I thought I could say hi.”

Zenitsu introduced Tanjiro and Inosuke. Of course, gramps immediately took a shine towards Tanjiro, but honestly, who didn’t like Tanjiro?

“You boys can stay for dinner if you would like,” gramps said, inviting them in. “It has been a while since I’ve had a guest. In the meantime, tell me all about your missions. Zenitsu is stingy with the details.”

Yeah, because he wasn’t interested in recounting everything in horrific details. He already had nightmares of demons devouring him, tearing his limbs off him before killing him. Or, worse, they turned him into a demon, and he would devour his own friends. So he wasn’t going to put all these thoughts on paper.

Inosuke talked with much gusto, especially once gramps had served them food. He always painted himself as the hero, while Tanjiro and Zenitsu were his loyal minions. Zenitsu wished he had Inosuke’s confidence. He wasn’t even sure how they had defeated Upper Moon six. It all had been a blur, and though Tanjiro told him he had been amazing, Zenitsu wasn’t so sure. It felt like he was still trailing behind his friends, not strong enough.

They shared Zenitsu’s bedroom, and Tanjiro and Inosuke were out cold in no time. But Zenitsu remained awake for several more hours. Gramps hadn’t said a word to him. While it was a relief that Zenitsu hadn’t been the subject matter, it also stung a little. Clearly, Zenitsu wasn’t worth his time.

***

Seeing as they weren’t in a hurry to return home, whatever home was, they decided to stay another day. Zenitsu had led them to the training grounds, where a handful of soon-to-be demon slayers were training. Gramps was instructing some of them while others were practising on their own. Not in the mood to train, Zenitsu sat at the sideline, watching his friends train.

They both had grown so much. Tanjiro was slowly by little grasping Sun Breathing. He looked gorgeous doing so, his movements fluid and elegant. He might as well be dancing if Inosuke was an easier opponent. Inosuke got faster and faster each time, barely flinching as he got hit and knocking Tanjiro to the ground the moment he got sloppy.

Letting his gaze wander, he looked over the progress of the other students. They were all younger than him, most of them in their early teens but for one girl. While she was still younger, she was likely nearing her mid-teens. She had a pretty face, with a cute pout, glossy black hair and pretty, dark eyes. He first noticed her beauty, and then he noticed her posture. She was practising the First Form of Thunder Breathing, and his posture was near perfect. But her hip position was slightly off, a mistake Kaigaku too made. But Kaigaku never bothered to listen to Zenitsu.

He got up, dusting off his clothes. He walked up to the girl, mentally questioning himself why he was doing this. He didn’t know this girl, and he wasn’t even a good teacher. He only had mastered the First Form himself!

The girl looked at him with caution, tightening her grip on her katana. “Kaigaku?”

Zenitsu shook his head. “Agumatsu Zenitsu.”

“Oh, master mentioned you before,” she said, her grip relaxing. “You’re good at the First Form, right?”

Zenitsu nodded, biting back the remark that it was the only form he knew. She didn’t have to know. “I noticed that your form was a little off. Nothing too bad, but if you can just readjust it…”

After several attempts, the girl had nailed it down. She was jumping from excitement, bowing deeply. “Thank you so much, mister Zenitsu.”

Zenitsu felt his face grow flustered. “It was nothing, really.”

The girl shook her head. “Master refused to continue my training until I figured it out, but it has been weeks.”

That sounded familiar. Gramps had used this tactic on him before. When he was too slow to grasp the concept, or he kept failing and failing, gramps liked to let him figure it out himself. It helped with his problem-solving skills, and it required him to look critically at his technique.

“That sounds like gramps,” Zenitsu said.

“I’m Sora,” the girl introduced herself. “Would you like to practice with me?”

Zenitsu couldn’t say no, so he reluctantly agreed.

Sora gave it her all. Her sword skills were fine, though she was slow. Zenitsu kept up with ease, playing defence. It was surprising, as he never had been the best at defence. Being a Thunder Breather, it was all about speed. Pinpoint that opening and strike.

Deflecting another stroke, Zenitsu saw his opportunity. Sora had gotten sloppy, leaving a gap in her defence. With a single swoop, Zenitsu disarmed her, sending her sword flying.

The girl wheezed, resting her hands on her knees. She was catching her breath; sweat dripped on the packed earth. Zenitsu felt a little heated but not as out of breath as he was when he trained against Tanjiro and Inosuke.

“You’re okay?” Zenitsu asked.

“I’m alright,” Sora looked up; her dark eyes shined with admiration. “I just realised I still have a lot to learn.”

***

They were heading to bed when gramps asked if he could stay behind. Inosuke and Tanjiro wished him goodnight before entering the bedroom. They had spent a long day training, so likely, his friends would be out cold in no time.

“You wanted to talk?” Zenitsu asked, taking the seat opposite gramps.

Gramps nodded. It was the first time they had a one-on-one conversation since they had arrived. Zenitsu wondered what gramps had to say. Was he going to voice his concerns that Zenitsu was lagging behind? Or that he had intervened in Sora training?

“You’ve grown,” gramps said.

Zenitsu frowned. “Maybe a couple of centimetres.”

“Not in height, you idiot,” gramps said. “As a person. You’re maturing.”

Oh. Zenitsu felt himself tear up a little. “I still haven’t mastered a new form.”

“You and your friends have killed an Upper Moon, and you made it out alive,” gramp said, tapping his fingers against the table. “You’ve made friends, you’ve improved your skills, and you didn’t even flirt with Sora.”

“Women aren’t on my mind all the time,” Zenitsu muttered, though a year ago, it would be a lie. When living with gramps, he flung himself at every available woman. All to avoid ending up alone.

“They definitely were,” gramps teased. “What changed?”

“I somehow made two stupid friends who are willing to walk to the end of the world for me,” Zenitsu admitted, unable to keep out the fondness. “And I would do the same.”

Gramps chuckled, shaking his head. “And you met Tanjiro.”

Zenitsu’s train of thoughts came to a sudden halt. What had Tanjiro specifically had to do with this?

“Oh, please don’t take me for a fool,” gramps said. “I might be old, but I’m not blind. When it came to women, it was all about their appearance. Pretty hair, a nice smile, a good body. But in every letter you’ve sent, you can’t stop gushing about Tanjiro. His kindness, his skill, how he makes you feel comfortable.”

Zenitsu felt all colour drain from his face. He had mentioned Tanjiro before in his letters, but gushing? He was always so careful. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Zenitsu, it’s fine,” gramps said, reaching for his hands. He gently rested his fingers on top of Zenitsu’s balled fists.

He yanked his hands away. “It isn’t. It’s gross, and I just don’t understand why I just.” Tears spilt from his eyes, running over his cheeks until they gathered at his chin. “Why can’t I be normal?”

“Normal?” gramps asked. “Why do you want to be normal?”

Zenitsu wiped his face on his sleeves, though it did little to stop the tears from falling. “I want people to like me. That they think I’m cool and they want to spend time with me.”

He knew that gramps wouldn’t get it. For years, he has been trying to fit in, to be considered a confidant, a friend. Someone people liked. But the first person who offered him the courtesy of friendship was Tanjiro, who wasn’t any more normal than Zenitsu.

Gramps sighed. “Zenitsu, you want people to like you for you. You’re sometimes a coward, and your sensitive hearing still freaks me out at times, but you’re loyal, hard-working and nice. People who only see the bad aren’t worth befriending.”

“But,” Zenitsu mumbled.

“No buts,” gramp said fiercely. “Like you said, you made friends who adore you, who acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses. You don’t have to be ‘normal’ for them, as they like you for who you are. I doubt they care that you’re interested in men.”

Embarrassingly, it took Zenitsu a while to stop crying. Gramps always had been stern, but he never ridiculed Zenitsu’s worries and fears. To hear him say it was fine to like men was such a relief. He knew that Tanjiro and Inosuke wouldn’t abandon him over it, but he knew plenty of others would, and that fear still stuck with him. What if he was all wrong about his friends?

“But Tanjiro is my friend,” Zentisu whined.

Gramps sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t see anything wrong with that. It means you two already get along, and I like Tanjiro. He’s polite, and he doesn’t call me gramps.”

“What’s wrong with gramps?” Zenitsu asked, sniffling. “You’re old, aren’t you?”

He saw gramps's eye twitch, and he knew that a scolding would follow. But Zenitsu couldn’t care less. It was as if a weight had been lifted off him. Gramps was okay with him liking guys. Gramps was okay with him liking Tanjiro. Gramps wouldn’t abandon him.

***

It was good to see Rengoku on the road to recovery, though it made Zenitsu feel inadequate. Even still recovering, Rengoku was outperforming Zenitsu. Even Tanjiro, who was the best of the three, struggled to keep up. It would be a matter of time before Rengoku would ask Tanjiro to become his Tsuguko. Though their breathing techniques were different, it seemed their optimism matched really well. Within a couple of years, if there was an empty slot, Zenitsu imagined that Tanjiro would become a Hashira.

It made Zenitsu wonder if he would be ever good enough for Tanjiro. Why would Tanjiro go for him when there were the likes of Rengoku and the other Hashira. Maybe Zenitsu could become the next Rumble Hashira, as there hadn’t been any since gramps. With mister Uzui retired, there was a free spot. But it wasn’t as if there weren’t any better candidates. Giyu has been Sabito’s Tsuguko for years, and Zenitsu knew he wouldn’t stand a chance

“Why are you sulking?” Aoi asked, sitting next to him.

It felt almost wrong, having her seated there. This was usually Tanjiro’s spot when he was willing to listen to Zenitsu’s sulking.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbled.

“Nothing my ass,” Aoi said, her crude words surprising him. “I haven’t seen you flirt with anyone in months, and it creeps me out.”

Ah, right. He plastered a smile on his face, meeting Aoi’s sceptical gaze. “Aww, you’re so adorable. There is no need to worry about me, miss Aoi; I’m fine.”

The hit on the back of his head was expected, though it was gentle. “It wasn’t permission to be a creep.”

Zenitsu sighed, rubbing the back of his head. His black hair had started to grow pale and ugly, and the blond and orange were returning in full force. Maybe in a month or two, he would consider cutting off all the leftover black hair. “I know.”

He liked Aoi. She was a no-nonsense kind of woman who wasn’t scared to give them hell if needed. She even tolerated all his whining when he ended up requiring healing. He knew many that would just let him rot.

“You still haven’t answered my question. What has gotten you into…” Aoi’s voice faltered. She was looking at the two sparring Demon Slayers, a thoughtful look on her face. “You’re worried about being left behind?”

“Sort of,” Zenitsu admitted.

“Then why aren’t you practising? I’m sure that Inosuke is around, and he always wants to fight.”

Zenitsu sighed. “I’m not sure if I’m ever able to catch up with them,” he admitted. “I don’t think I’ll ever be enough to become a Hashira.”

Aoi snorted. “You want to become a Hashira? It means you have to fight dangerous demons. I somehow can’t imagine that’s your dream.”

“It isn’t,” Zenitsu admitted. He glanced at Tanjiro, seeing him performing a beautiful counter-strike, sending Rengoku’s sword flying. “But I know he’ll be there.”

Aoi took her sweet, sweet time to answer. “Oh, you love him.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not really,” Aoi admitted. “I know you two are close, but you were always chasing women. What about Nezuko?”

“I see her as a sister,” Zenitsu admitted. “I tried to fall for her, but with Tanjiro there…”

“Oh gods, you’re sulking here because you’re in love with Tanjiro.”

Zenitsu made a hushing noise. “Not so loud. These words can’t leave this porch.”

Aoi sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, but if you aren’t training, you might as well help me out. I need help with the inventory.”

Not wanting to face her wrath, Zenitsu agreed to help her out. It wasn’t like Tanjiro would need him here, and he didn’t want to risk being dragged into a sparring match by Inosuke if he ever showed up.

***

“Maybe we should start to save up for a house,” Zenitsu suggested.

After missions, they always ended up at the Butterfly mansion, even when they didn’t need patching up. Inosuke didn’t have a home to return to, and he and Tanjiro had no real family to return to. Gramps would take him in, but he also didn’t want to spend all his free with gramps. It would be nice to have a place to call home.

“A house?” Tanjiro asked.

“Yeah, a place we can return to once we’re done with a mission,” Zenitsu explained. “You, me, Inosuke and Nezuko. Like Sabito and Giyu, they also live together, right?”

Tanjiro coughed softly, his cheeks turning pink. “Sabito and Giyu are together. Romantically.”

Zenitsu felt like a fool. He had seen the two together and had assumed they had a platonic friendship. This would’ve meant it was perfectly fine for demon slayers to live together as friends! Which would mean that it wasn’t awkward for Zenitsu to suggest living together in a total friendship kind of way.

“You’re okay?” Tanjiro asked, pressing the top of his hand against Zenitsu’s forehead. “You’re getting sick?”

Zenitsu let out a squeak. “I’m fine, just surprised, that’s all.”

Tanjiro frowned, clearly not believing him. “If them being together is an issue…”

“No, no, that isn’t it. I was just surprised!”

The last thing Zenitsu wanted was Tanjiro though he was grossed out. It truly had caught him off guard. He knew that technically, he wasn’t the only one interested in the same sex. But actually knowing someone is an entirely different feeling. Maybe he should hit them up for a chat.

***

Though the market was bustling with life, Zenitsu immediately noticed the underlying tension. There had been three disappearances in the last three days. All young teens. Which is exactly why they had to send three teen-aged demon slayers to fix the issue. Why couldn’t they have sent the adults?

Zenitsu walked around the market, focusing on anything that felt out of place. It was daylight, so it was understandable that the demon wasn’t strolling around. But maybe they were hiding nearby, and they didn’t have to wait for the sun to go down to kill it.

“Wait, is that you, Zenitsu?” A girl was excitedly waving at him, standing on her tip-toes to reach above the masses.

Though he didn’t recognise the girl, he waved back. She headed towards him, stopping in front of him. She had brown hair, bangs falling into her eyes. Her cheeks were chubby, and Zenitsu doubted she was older than twelve. She was also short, not even reaching Zenitsu’s chin.

“It is you,” the girl said excitedly. “What happened to your hair? Did you dye it blond?”

“No, I…” If she remembered him with black hair, he must have met her before he started his demon-slaying training. Which meant she must be from the orphanage. “Emi?”

“Ah, you remember!” Emi said, her brown eyes lit up with excitement. “I hardly recognised you.”

Zenitsu chuckled awkwardly. He hadn’t expected to run into anyone from the orphanage, and he hadn’t expected them to recognise him. Thankfully, Emi was one of the good ones. She always seemed to like him.

“I got struck by lightning,” Zenitsu told her.

Her eyes grew wide, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it.

“It’s fine,” Zenitsu reassured her, waving his hands in a placating motion. “It’s how my hair ended up blond.”

“It suits you,” Emi said. She folded her arms, looking nervous. “Why are you here? This isn’t a great time to be here.”

Zenitsu sighed. “I’m well aware; it’s why we’re here. To get rid of this… threat.”

Emi’s eyes flicked towards his sword, resting at his hip. Then she nodded, grabbing his wrist and dragging him away from the stall he had been loitering around.

“Might I know where we’re going?” he asked, looking around to find anything suspicious. This wouldn’t be the first time humans worked for demons, though he recalled Emi being a sweet girl.

“I’m looking for Hana,” Emi said, not looking back. “One of her friends was taken, so she might know more.”

Hana, right. She had been Emi’s best friend at the orphanage. She must be fourteen by now. “Have you two been adopted together?” he asked.

“Yup,” Emi confirmed. “Another family wanted to adopt me alone, but I learnt from the best how to cry, wail and make people uncomfortable. Eventually, we found a family who wanted to take both of us in.”

They found Hana carrying a basket with fruits, eyeing Zenitsu with scepticism. She was taller than her sister, with black hair that was held together in a ponytail. She looked older than fourteen, but he figured that it was the burden of being the oldest sibling.

“Emi, really?” she said, glaring at Zenitsu.

“No, I’m not setting you up!” Emi exclaimed, letting go of Zenitsu’s wrist. “Don’t you remember him? This is Zenitsu, from the orphanage.”

Surprise flicked across Hana’s features. “Really? I hardly recognised you! What are you doing here?”

Had he really changed that much? He had grown a little, and he had blond hair, but that’s all.

“He’s here to deal with the issue,” Emi whispered.

Hana’s smile faltered, her eyes growing sombre. “I’ll tell you all I know, but it isn’t much.”

There wasn’t much. She and her friend were walking home, and in a blink of an eye, she was gone. Hana had looked around, searching for her friend, but there was nothing.

“Can you show me the place where you lost her?” Zenitsu asked after handing her a handkerchief. It was Tanjiro’s, but she didn’t have to know that.

Hana nodded. They left the marketplace to head to the quieter area of the town. The area was close to a forest, which would be an ideal hiding spot for a demon. Straining his ears, Zenitsu tried to pick up a stray sound. There were the insects buzzing, humans and animals inside their homes, and the rushing of water through the earth. But not the off-tempo heartbeat of a demon.

“Nothing,” Zenitsu admitted. “Thankfully, I know someone who could help. Chuntaro?”

The bird, who had been following them around, landed on his outstretched arm. The two girls cooed at the small sparrow.

“Could you fetch Tanjiro and maybe Inosuke?” Zenitsu asked. “Please?”

Chuntaro left, and Zenitsu and the two girls waited for Tanjiro to show up. Eventually, Tanjiro came jogging up to them, Chuntaro resting on his shoulder.

“Wait, he’s cute,” Emi whispered. “Is he taken?”

“No,” Zenitsu grumbled.

Hana giggled. “Let’s say he is.”

Tanjiro greeted them with his usual kind smile.

“These two are Hana and Emi,” Zenitsu introduce the girls. “We used to live in the same orphanage. Hana’s friend got taken by a demon here.”

Tanjiro introduced himself before starting to inspect the area.

“What is he doing?” Hana asked.

“He has a great sense of smell, which means he can smell demons,” Zentisu explained.

Emi frowned. “Like a dog?”

“Somewhat.”

Tanjiro suddenly stopped, inhaling deeply, before beckoning them to follow him. As expected, they were heading towards the forest. At the edge, they found Inosuke stalking around like a predator sniffing out its prey.

“He’s with us,” Zenitsu told the siblings. “Inosuke, found anything?”

Emi hid behind him as Inosuke looked up, giving them a full view of his boar mask and its large, blue eyes.

“Demon,” Inosuke mumbled.

“I think it’s for the best if we move in now,” Tanjiro said, gazing up at the sky. They still had several hours of daylight left, enough to flush out the demon and kill it. “You two should return home.”

“No,” Hana said, stepping forward. “I want to see the thing that has killed my friend.”

“Hana, be reasonable,” Emi said, tugging the sleeve of her kimono. “These guys know what they’re doing; we’ll just be in their way.”

After a silent argument, the two girls left. Zenitsu was relieved. He wasn’t sure if they could’ve guaranteed their safety.

Though they roughly knew where the demon was, it was getting dark by the time they had pinpointed its location. Zenitsu’s shoulders were tense, the grip on his sword tight. Though he wasn’t a fan of fighting demons, it was much better than the hours sweeping the forest, hoping to find their target.

Then he heard it. The not-quite-human heartbeat. It was on the move but not heading towards them. “It’s moving!” Zenitsu exclaimed. “East.”

They ran after the demon, slowly catching up with it. Had it sniffed out that they were demon slayers? Unlikely. So then why had it decided to move? They were almost out of the forest when the demon stopped. Then Zenitsu noticed that there were two more heartbeats.

Zenitsu burst into the clearing, not hesitating to barrel into the demon to send them tumbling. The demon clawed at him, its claws gliding off the material of his haori. Whipping out the dagger he carried for more menial tasks, he stabbed the demon in the neck and got between it and the two girls.

He immediately recognised Emi and Hana, clinging to each other in fright. “Stay behind me,” Zenitsu barked. The girls reacted with a whimper, which was enough for him.

Inosuke and Tanjiro burst onto the scene, quick to take in the situation. With the three of them, the demon should be a piece of cake. But then why did they send three fairly skilled demon slayers?

The demon seemed to possess no Blood Demon Art, which left Zenitsu to play shield as Tanjiro and Inosuke took out the demon. Yet, nothing that they did seemed to work and—

Thump, thump, skip. The demon came out of nowhere, reaching for Tanjiro. Electricity buzzed underneath his skin, and he lunged forward, decapitating the demon in one fell swoop. As he came to a halt, it felt as if his entire body was paralysed.

Then, he realised his error. Tanjiro had turned around, having raised his sword to deflect the demon attack. And then a scream followed.

Repeating ‘no’ over in his head, Zenitsu tried to get his limbs to move. He was fast; he could save them. He had let his feelings get the better of him, forgetting that Tanjiro wasn’t fragile and could handle himself.

Zenitsu had barely managed to get his legs to move when he heard a thud. The demon’s heartbeat faded away. The night fell quiet but for the soft sobbing of the two girls. His knees gave out, and Zenitsu let himself fall on his knees, burying his face into his hands and cry. He almost caused the death of two people he once saw as his younger sisters. Just because his stupid heart had taken over.

Someone placed his hand on his shoulder. The warmth could only belong to Tanjiro. “You’re okay?”

“Not really,” Zenitsu admitted. “I almost got them killed.”

“Hey, don’t say that. We all make mistakes,” Tanjiro said, his calloused fingers running across the back of Zenitsu’ neck. “It all turned out fine.”

He didn’t agree, but there was no use dwelling over it. They returned to the village. Inosuke and Tanjiro would report that they got rid of the monsters, while Zenitsu would bring the two girls home.

Emi and Hana were clinging to him, silently crying. Hana managed to give him directions to their place. It was a nice house, bigger than gramps. But there were also at least four of them, while gramps had been on his own for years.

“Are you ready to go in?” Zenitsu asked, prying Emi’s hands off his arm. “The monsters are long gone now. They won’t harm you anymore.”

Hana drew Emi close. “Thank you for saving us.”

Zenitsu shook his head. “It’s my fault you almost got eaten.”

“I was the one who wanted to come back,” Hana blurted out. “If we weren’t there, you didn’t have to protect us.” She sniffled, wiping the tears out of her eyes. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Hana managed a watery smile. “I figured it as much. One day, I want to have a boy look at me the way you look at him.”

“Does that mean Tanjiro is unavailable?” Emi asked.

“Yeah,” Hana said. “Now, let’s get inside. They must be beside themselves. Will we see you tomorrow?”

Zenitsu nodded. He disappeared into the shadows, watching Hana knock on the door. A middle-aged woman opened the door. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Upon seeing her two daughters, she let out a cry and pulled them in a big hug. Another set of footsteps followed, and another woman showed up, pulling the three of them in a hug. Zenitsu felt tears sting his own eyes, which he was quick to wipe away.

***

Zenitsu only had met Sabito once, and he was quite sure that he had hid behind Tanjiro and stared at the man. He wasn’t in love with Sabito or anything like that, but his pale pink hair and gentle blue eyes made him the prettiest guy Zenitsu ever had met.

Swallowing nervously, he gathered his courage to knock on the front door. The Water Pillar’s estate was large, much larger than any house Zenitsu had envisioned himself living in. It was Giyu who opened the door, looking tired.

Giyu’s expression was guarded, and cold, which was the expression Zenitsu was used to from him. He was friendly toward Tanjiro, but he never interacted with Zenitsu or Inosuke. Likely, he thought he was too cool for them.

“Could I talk to Sabito?” Zenitsu asked.

“Why?” Giyu crossed his arms, already looking done with this all. “We aren’t accepting any new students.”

Even if they did, it was unlikely they were interested in Zenitsu. They were Water Breathers and couldn’t really help Zenitsu with his abysmal Thunder Breathing.

“No, I wanted to ask him about, you know, relationships.” Zenitsu waited for the ball to drop and Giyu to slam the door in his face. Maybe Tanjiro had been wrong, and these two were just friends.

“Fine,” Giyu sighed. “Sabito,” he called. “This guy is here for you.”

Sabito greeted him with much more kindness. “So, I heard you came to me for love advice,” Sabito said, gesturing for Zenitsu to sit opposite of him.

Zenitsu folded his legs as he sat down on the pillow. A checker cloth was thrown over the low table, and there were two cups of steaming tea. “Not necessarily love advice. More about how you navigate a relationship as a demon slayer.”

“Well, there is a reason why most demon slayers don’t start a romantic relationship,” Sabito started. “Though, most low-level slayers should be fine, as it’s usually the Upper Moons that have a personal vendetta against us demon slayers. It’s important that you’re transparent with your partner. She has to know the risks of your occupation and know that you’ll be gone a lot.”

Zenitsu occupied himself with the cup of tea, unsure how to change the conversation. He didn’t want to be rude, and he really did admire Sabito, but this advice he could’ve gotten from any demon slayer. Even Inosuke could’ve told him.

“Sabito?” Zenitsu tried, his quiet protest falling to deaf ears. He understood why he and Giyu worked together well. Wherein Giyu was quiet, Sabito talked for two.

“Sabito,” Zenitsu repeated. “I was talking about a fellow demon slayer.”

Sabito stopped talking, his cheeks turning red. “Oh. Oh, that’s why you came to me. Because Giyu and I…”

Zenitsu nodded. “I… on my last mission, I did something dumb. It was my job to protect the civilians, but when I saw Tanjiro in danger I…”

He recalled the sudden burst of energy, moving faster than ever before. The demon’s head went flying, thudding into the packed dirt. Tanjiro had looked startled but not frightened for his life, and then the screaming started. If it hadn’t been for Inosuke, he would’ve caused innocent people to die. Tanjiro could’ve handled himself; he was the strongest of the three.

Sabito winced. “That sounds familiar,” he admitted. “It happened between Giyu and me before. It’s the unfortunate reality of working together with someone you love.”

Sabito hadn’t even blinked at the mention of Tanjiro. Maybe the only one who had disliked Zenitsu for liking men was himself.

“But what should I do?” Zenitsu asked. “We aren’t together, and even if I fall out of love, I still care about him. He’s my best friend.”

Tears stung his eyes. He could live without being romantically together with Tanjiro. But he was also Zenitsu’s friend, just like Inosuke, and he had few friends, to begin with.

Giyu’s voice came out of nowhere. “You train,” he said.

Zenitsu looked up, seeing Giyu stand in the door opening, his arms crossed. “You train until you taste blood in your mouth, and even then, you still push harder. Because our bonds make us human, and we can’t give up on that.”

The last words clearly were directed at Sabito, who had grown a little misty-eyed. Zenitsu didn’t stay long after, feeling more confused than ever before. He hadn’t expected the advice to come from Giyu, and not to be this optimistic. The most logical advice would’ve been to not do missions together, but he figured it also would be a waste. They worked well together, the three of them.

He arrived back at the place they were staying. Tanjiro was nowhere to be seen, and Inosuke was sitting on the porch, sharpening his blade.

“What’s up, Monitsu?” Inosuke asked, not looking up from his sword-sharpening.

“Let’s practise,” Zenitsu said, taking Giyu’s words by heart.

“Ha,” Inosuke snorted, sounding confused. “What happened to you?”

Zenitsu wrinkled his nose. “Nothing, now, do you want to train or not?”

***

Zenitsu sat in front of a mirror, looking at the faded black tips that were resting on his shoulders. It was the longest his hair had been in years, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it, even if the colours were all the same. It made him look more feminine.

He gentle took a strand between his fingers, eyeballing the length. Cutting off all the black was the easiest, but it would mean his hair would remain choppy. The cut had been uneven, to begin with.

The slider door was slammed open. Alarmed, Zenitsu did what was the most sensible thing when spooked; throw the knife. The blade lodged itself into the thin wall, centimetres away from Tanjiro’s face. Tanjiro looked spooked.

Zenitsu’s heartbeat slowed down before the realisation settled in. He had almost murdered his best friend!

“I’m so sorry!” Zenitsu scrambled, getting up and bowing deeply.

“You’re getting faster,” Tanjiro noted, tugging the blade free from the door. “And it’s my fault for startling you.”

Zenitsu shook his head. “I almost killed you!”

He watched Tanjiro look at the hole in the wall and held up his hand to the same height. It was the same height as Tanjiro’s heart. “I probably was able to dodge it.”

“Why are you so calm?” Zenitsu asked, nearing hysterics. He was going to bury that knife and never think about it again.

Tanjiro blinked. “Because it was an accident?” he answered. “Now, sit down. Nezuko told me you were planning to cut your hair.”

“She told you?” Zenitsu asked, wondering how she had managed that. He knew that he had told her, wondering out loud if it was truly worth it to become fully blond again. Though she didn’t speak, her grunts and facial expressions told him that the black hair had to go.

“Not literally, but yes.” Tanjiro sat down behind him, running his fingers through Zenitsu’s hair. “You could’ve asked.”

Zenitsu grumbled. “I didn’t want to bother you with it. I’ve done it before.”

Tanjiro was very gentle when cutting Zenitsu’ hair. Zenitsu felt overwhelmed and couldn’t do much but close his eyes and let his friend do his thing. He didn’t understand why something as stupid as this affected him so much. He had done Nezuko’s hair multiple times, and not once did it make him feel warm and cosy.

“You have really nice hair,” Tanjiro remarked at one point.

Zenitsu opened his eyes, trying to catch Tanjiro’s gaze. But Tanjiro was focusing on Zenitsu’s hair, wielding the blade with precision.

“It’s just hair,” Zenitsu said.

Tanjiro said nothing as he finished Zenitsu’s haircut. It looked much cleaner now the black was gone, and the cut was also fairly even. More so than when he had done it before.

“Thank you.” Zenitsu turned his head, causing their noses to brush.

His heart leapt into his throat, panic settling into his chest as he met Tanjiro’s soft gaze. This was horrible. Tanjiro must know by now how infatuated Zenitsu was with him. And Tanjiro was all so cool about it, with a steady heartbeat and…

Tanjiro’s heartbeat was a loud thump thump. He was nervous or flustered. Whatever it was, Zenitsu clearly wasn’t the only one affected.

“I,” Zenitsu started, wondering if he imagined things.

Inosuke disrupted them by opening the door, shouting that a crow had come with a mission. Zenitsu spotted Nezuko standing behind him, glaring at Inosuke.

“Okay, let’s hear what it has to say,” Tanjiro said, getting back up and leaving the room.

“Couldn’t you have waited one minute?” Zenitsu asked, reluctantly getting up. Strands of cut hair rained down on the floor. He really had to clean it up once they heard about their mission.

Nezuko huffed in agreement. He was surprised she was so supportive.

“You two are mating?” Inosuke asked, cocking his head. It should look endearing, but the boar mask made it look terrifying.

“Not yet,” Zenitsu grumbled, moving past his friends to find Tanjiro and the messaging crow.

***

Zenitsu was happy to take his romantic feelings to the grave. Yes, he wanted to kiss Tanjiro, hold him, intertwining their fingers. But he’s also not dumb. What they had going right now worked wonderfully. Though Tanjiro was sweet and kind, he doubted things could truly turn back to normal when he knew the extent of Zenitsu’s feelings. There would always be underlying tension.

Unfortunately, it seemed that his friends didn’t agree. Inosuke and Nezuko had cornered him in the garden of the Butterfly mansion. For once, Inosuke didn’t wear his boar mask, though he wasn’t sure if it was for the better. Now Zenitsu could see the annoyance on Inosuke’s face, something he couldn’t when he was wearing his mask.

Nezuko pointed to his chest and then to the porch Tanjiro was sitting, gesturing that they had to ‘talk’.

Inosuke nodded in agreement. “What she said. It’s getting annoying.”

Zenitsu sighed, crossing his arms. “How are you so sure it’s mutual?”

Nezuko stood on her tiptoes, reaching for his head. Her claws lightly scraped his cheek when she finally got hold of a strand of hair. She tugged it gently before letting it go.

“Because he cut my hair?” Zenitsu asked.

Nezuko shook her head. She looks up at Inosuke, her gaze pleading. Zenitsu only could imagine the frustration of not being able to properly communicate.

“Don’t look at me,” Inosuke said. “I don’t get their whole mating dance.”

Suddenly, Nezuko’s eyes lit up. She grabbed Zenitsu’s hand and pressed it against her chest. Zenitsu felt his face heat up, realising he was touching a woman’s breasts. A woman, honestly, more like a girl, who he saw as a little sister. But then he understood what she meant. Her gentle heartbeat is so close to being human but not quite. Her heartbeat. Tanjiro’s heartbeat and how it had been irregular when they had been nose-to-nose. Tanjiro’s steadfast heartbeat rarely wavered.

“His heartbeat,” Zenitsu whispered.

Nezuko nodded. She let go of his hand, and he let it fall to his side.

“Are you finally going to talk?” Inosuke asked.

Zentsiu wrinkled his nose. “I rather not, ” he admitted. “But I doubt that it stops you two pestering me about it.”

“Damn right,” Inosuke said. Nezuko hummed in agreement.

With his heart hammering in his throat and his body sweaty, he walked to where he had last seen Tanjiro. He was still sitting on the porch. Their porch. As he approached his friend, he realised something felt off. Tanjiro’s heartbeat sounded a little sad.

“Hi, you’re okay?” Zenitsu asked, sitting down next to Tanjiro.

“I’m fine,” Tanjiro said, offering Zenitsu a bright smile. Thankfully, Zenitsu had enhanced hearing and not enhanced sight. He could hear how Tanjiro’s heartbeat was still sad.

“I have to tell you something,” Zenitsu said, feeling his nerves buzz underneath his skin. This was awful.

Tanjiro nodded. “I already know. I couldn’t imagine a better partner for Nezuko. You love her and threaten her well. I’ll give you my blessings to court her.”

It took a few seconds for Tanjiro’s words to settle in. Zenitsu let out a shriek, scrambling back until his head hit the wall. Wait, wait, wait, what was Tanjiro talking about? He hadn’t flirted with Nezuko in months! Had he misread Tanjiro?

“You got it all wrong!” Zenitsu shouted, looking at a startled-looking Tanjiro. “I don’t love her like that! She’s like my little sister.”

Though Tanjiro still looked startled, his heartbeat changed. It went from sad to hopeful. “Then what else?”

Zenitsu tried to regulate his breathing. He was going to do this, and he was going to do it right this time around.

Zenitsu crawled back to Tanjiro, sitting back down next to him. He ignored the throbbing pain in the back of his head. First confess, then worry about a concussion. He took Tanjiro’s calloused hand, watching his eyebrows draw together in confusion. Then, he pressed the palm of his hand against Zenitsu’s rabbit-paced heartbeat.

“I love you,” Zenitsu said.

Tanjiro blinked. His fingers gentle curled against the fabric of Zenitsu’s shirt. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that right.”

Zenitsu swallowed. The first confession was already bad enough, and now Tanjiro wanted a second one? Then he noticed the lift in Tanjiro’s heartbeat. “You heard me loud and clear!” Zenitsu complained.

“I’m not sure,” Tanjiro teased.

Zenitsu gentle hit Tanjiro’s chest, feeling as well as hearing Tanjiro’s heartbeat. “I adore you.”

Tanjiro’s heartbeat skipped a beat. “I love you too.”

Zenitsu threw his arms around Tanjiro’s neck and hugged him tightly. Likely, Inosuke and Nezuko were watching them like creeps, but he didn’t care right now.

Tanjiro held him while Zenitsu cried. It wasn’t a full-on cry-fest, but Zenitsu couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Everything about Tanjiro was comfortable and familiar, and Zenitsu wasn’t sure what he would do without him.

Wiping away the leftover tears, they both sat down on the porch, legs crossed and facing each other. It was different from the usual sitting side-by-side.

“Why did you think I liked Nezuko?” Zenitsu asked.

Tanjiro's cheeks grew flustered. “I… when I told you that Giyu and Sabito were romantically involved, your smell soured, and I thought it was disgust. So I doubted that you were interested in men.”

“I was surprised,” Zenitsu admitted, reaching out for Tanjiro’s hands. He took hold of one of his fingers, feeling grounded by the touch of Tanjiro’s warm skin. “I thought they were friends, which made it easier to justify living together without making you think it was romantically. But when you mentioned that they were together, I was worried you would realise the depth of my feelings.”

Tanjiro intertwined their fingers. “I never realised,” he admitted. “Though, looking back, maybe I should have.”

“You totally should,” Zenitsu laughed. “It was so obvious. Inosuke and Nezuko knew. I actually think everyone knew but you.”

“But now I know,” Tanjiro said. “Could I kiss you?”

Zenitsu nodded. Tanjiro gently placed his hand against Zenitsu’s cheek and leaned in. He couldn’t hear anything above his loud heartbeat.

Then, it was all ruined. Zenitsu heard the loud crack of a branch breaking, followed by a body falling to the ground. He heard Inosuke curse, and Tanjiro burst out in laughter. Zenitsu looked over his shoulder, glaring at Inosuke. His friend was sprawled on the ground, and Nezuko left her hiding place, helping him up.

Zenitsu couldn’t stop himself from laughing upon seeing Inosuke’s frustrated look. He couldn’t believe that he once complained that these were all the friends he had when now, he couldn’t imagine a life without them.