Chapter Text
It was too cold to be outside in thin sleeping clothes, but Zenitsu knew this was the only place he would be left alone. Zenitsu had his forehead pressed against his knees, hiding his tear-streaked face from view.
The orphanage was awful, with the screaming kids, mice running in the walls and the staff rummaging in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Zenitsu heard things he shouldn’t, which made the staff think he was faking it to get attention. After all, nobody could hear the water’s faint rippling nor a spider’s scuttling. He was a freak.
The water in the small pond was moving gently, the small waves crashing against the stone wall. Insects were buzzing merrily and scuttling around, the steady noise slowly fading into the background. Outside, he couldn’t hear the boys snoring or whispering among each other, nor the staff stomping around like large creatures.
Suddenly, featherlight footsteps made Zenitsu freeze. Straining his ears, he could hear another soft step. Maybe it was a cat?
Zenitsu was sure he was going to die from a heart attack. He slowly looked up, spotting a grown man standing on the other side of the pond. He was looking around the place, looking completely lost. He had long, chestnut hair in a ponytail with some strands still falling into his face. He wore a checker haori, a black uniform and a katana underneath his belt.
“How did you get in here?” Zenitsu flinched at the volume of his own voice, the steady quiet of the night disrupted.
“I—” the man now looked at Zenitsu, confusion still written all over his face. He had a large scar on his forehead, partially hidden by his hair. “Where am I?”
Zenitsu hid most of his face behind his knees, peering over them at the man. Despite the sword, the man didn’t look menacing. His words had sounded genuinely confused, and his heartbeat was steady and rang true. Zenitsu had gotten very good at figuring out people’s intent by listening to their bodies.
“A soulmate visit,” Zenitsu told himself, figuring out that this was how he had appeared.
The man should have been overjoyed, but all that happened was that his face fell. Zenitsu didn’t have to listen to his heartbeat to figure out he was disappointed.
There was no one ‘true’ explanation of how soulmates worked. At its core, soulmates were two people meant for life. This could be romantic but also platonic. Theoretically, though Zenitsu expected his to never show up, everyone had a soulmate.
This guy was, unfortunately, not the first visitor he had met. They tended to appear outside, the place Zenitsu most liked to stay. He didn’t like meeting them, as he always forgot. Not to mention, it wasn’t his responsibility that he had to point them in the right direction!
Zenitsu got up, dusting off his pyjamas. His limbs were stiff; the cold had done a number on his body. He wiped away his tears, making it an apparent gesture. He did not care to be kind. “Fine, I’ll bring you to the girl’s rooms.” He crossed his arms, glaring at the man. He didn’t deserve it, but Zenitsu was tired and wanted to sit here in peace.
The time-traveller’s heart skipped, surprise written all over his face. “Zenitsu?”
Oh no. “How do you know my name?” he asked, panic clawing at his throat. He always had wanted a soulmate, but not a guy. He was already weird and liking men just made it worse.
“I didn’t recognise you.” The traveller was grinning from ear to ear. “This must be before you started training. Where are we?”
“An orphanage,” Zenitsu answered, sitting back on the cold floor. It isn’t that Zenitsu is against having a guy as a soulmate per se, but this guy was odd. The sword made him think of the samurai of old.
The traveller’s expression softened. “Can I join you?”
Zenitsu nodded, once again hugging his knees close. Tears, once again, started to spill from his eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” the traveller asked, sitting down next to Zenitsu. He towered over Zenitsu.
“I want to be normal,” Zenitsu sobbed. “Not only are you a man, but you also carry a sword. What will the others think? he hiccupped, wiping his eyes.
The traveller didn’t seem particularly phased by his words. Figuring that they were soulmates, he must know Zenitsu reasonably well. “I’m Tanjiro, and you’re my best friend.”
Best friends? Were he and Tanjiro platonic soulmates? Just his luck, being stuck with a best friend as a soulmate. The boys would laugh their asses off if they ever found out; maybe it was a good thing that Zenitsu would forget. “Will I find a wife?”
Tanjiro bit his lip and didn’t meet his gaze. Zenitsu felt his heart sink. “I don’t?”
“Not yet,” Tanjiro reassured him. “I mean, we’re twenty-five. There is still plenty of time left, and you’re happy.”
Curse his sensitive hearing. Usually, this news would be welcome; Zenitsu would have a happy future. However, there was a change in Tanjiro’s tone; he was lying. Was Zenitsu still unhappy, or was he a lost cause when finding a wife?
“Why are we friends?” Zenitsu asked, quite curious. He wasn’t even sure how the two of them would meet.
Tanjiro looked gob-smacked. “You’re serious?”
Zenitsu nodded. Tanjiro was a little odd, but he was also cool. There would be no reason for him to befriend someone like Zenitsu.
“We didn’t meet on the best of terms,” Tanjiro admitted. He smiled lopsidedly, making him look younger. “You were harassing a poor girl into marrying you; it didn’t work.”
Tears stung Zenitsu’s eyes. Of course, he made a fool of himself when he met his platonic soulmate.
Tanjiro offered him a handkerchief. There was no judgment on his face, just kindness. “But after that, you proved that you were a courageous and fair man. You protected my sister when another friend tried to kill her and saved my life many times afterwards.”
“Really?” Zenitsu asked, voice small.
“Yes, really. It took you a while to realise your greatness, but I can’t imagine a life without you.” Tanjiro sounded off, though Zenitsu couldn’t pinpoint why.
“Well, we’re platonic soulmates, after all.” The words still felt foreign on Zenitsu’s tongue. Then, Tanjiro’s words finally sunk in. “Your friend tried to kill your sister?” he screeched.
Tanjiro’s smile didn’t falter. “Everything is resolved by now; I hardly could blame Inosuke for trying. I was surprised you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because my sister used to be a demon,” Tanjiro explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Did you just say demon?” Zenitsu looked Tanjiro up and down, seeing if he was hiding glowing red eyes or sharp teeth. He seemed perfectly normal.
“It’s a long story,” Tanjiro said. “Care to hear it?”
Zenitsu nodded.
Tanjiro told him about his life. How he lost his family to a demon, how his little sister Nezuko had turned into a demon. How he became a demon slayer to return her to normal, how they met.
Zenitsu was nodding off when sudden silence hit him. Jolting awake, he looked around. Tanjiro was gone. His chest felt hollow. Tanjiro had been a soothing presence, making him feel less alone.
Sniffling, Zenitsu used Tanjiro’s handkerchief to wipe away newly formed tears. In a matter of minutes, he would forget all about this. No time to write it down, not that it would work. All he had was Tanjiro’s soulmate item, which was…
He froze. Unfolding the handkerchief, Zenitsu took in the pattern. It was a simple, pink-checkered handkerchief. The letter ‘TJ’ was embroidered in the corner. This was the key to finding his best friend again. Zenitsu held it close to his chest, marvelling at the fact the future at least had one shining light. Maybe not quite the happily ever after he was looking for, but a step in the right direction.
***
Though he didn’t want to be a demon slayer, Zenitsu realised it had perks. It gave him a reason to travel across Japan and meet many people. This meant it would be much easier to meet his soulmate wherever she was.
“Please, just hear me out.” Zenitsu clung to the girl’s skirt, tears streaming down his face. “My soulmate gave me a handkerchief; you could be the one!”
The woman scoffed, crossing her arms while she mustered her meanest glare. “I’ve already met my soulmate, and it isn’t you.”
Zenitsu sniffled. “Maybe you are mistaken, please, just—”
“What’s going on here?”
Zenitsu froze. He had been so busy trying to convince the lady to give him a chance he hadn’t heard the newcomer approach. Their heartbeat sounded familiar.
Looking away from the girl, he took in the newcomer. The young man looked to be his age and a fellow demon slayer. He wore a green and black checkered haori and the standard uniform. He had burgundy hair, a scar on his forehead and a steady and sure heartbeat. Had they met before?
The girl took his momentary distraction to free herself from his grip and run away. Zenitsu shouted after her, watching her disappear.
“That could’ve been my soulmate,” Zenitsu whined, getting back up.
The demon slayer didn’t even bother to hide his grimace. “I don’t think she is.”
Zenitsu didn’t think so, either. Something about her had felt off, but it wasn’t as if he knew who his soulmate was. He just remembered them being kind. “Have we met before?” Zenitsu asked, trying to pinpoint why the man sounded so familiar.
“The final selection,” the young man answered. “You looked… frightened.”
Right. He hardly remembered anything about the final selection. Everything had happened in a blur. When he came out victorious, he had been covered in dirt and blood, clueless about where it all came from.
“Because I was!” Was this guy one of the few that willingly became a demon slayer? He must be.
“I’m Kamado Tanjiro,” Tanjiro held out his hand.
Zenitsu hesitantly took his hand. “Agamatsu Zenitsu.”
“Nice to meet you.” Tanjiro seemed to genuinely mean it, which was odd.
It was then Zenitsu finally heard the second heartbeat. It was close by but drowned out by Tanjiro’s. Zenitsu knew it belonged to a demon. Why was Tanjiro carrying a demon with him? Was this a trap?
“In what direction are you going?” Tanjiro asked.
Zenitsu only now realised that his sparrow was resting on Tanjiro’s shoulder. He had lost the thing a while back, assuming it was finally fed up with Zenitsu’s constant whining.
“I was following Chuntaro southwards, not sure why we’re heading there.” Zenitsu glared at his traitorous bird, who just twittered in response.
“I’m also heading southward,” Tanjiro said. “Should we continue together?”
Tanjiro looked very capable. Maybe he was able to keep Zenitsu alive long enough for him to find his soulmate.
“Okay.”
***
Zenitsu, admittedly, was a little weary of Inosuke. The boar-child hadn’t left the best impression, doing his best to beat up Zenitsu. He kept fighting with Tanjiro in an attempt to be the team leader, despite the role fitting Tanjiro much better. Neither Zenitsu nor Inosuke had the patience to make an actual plan.
However, at times, Inosuke was incredibly refreshing. He didn’t bat an eye at human customs, doing whatever felt right to him.
“Might I ask you something?” Zenitsu sat down next to a sweaty Inosuke.
Inosuke had been forced to stop his sparring match against Tanjiro. After a particularly nasty headbutt, Tanjiro’s nose started to bleed. Aoi had forced them to stop, refusing to let anyone die on her watch. It was unlikely that Tanjiro would die from a nosebleed, but Zenitsu understood why Aoi was worried. She had seen too many people die.
“What?” Inosuke asked, rubbing his forehead. “I was winning if that is what you were asking.”
Zenitsu wrinkled his nose, for once glad he had sensitive hearing. Inosuke smelled awful, and that was with his human smell. “No, I wanted to ask your opinion on soulmates.”
“Mates?” Inosuke repeated. “Mating is necessary, yes.”
Was it possible Inosuke hadn’t even heard of soulmates? That would be awful; Zenitsu wasn’t the one equipped to explain. “No, soulmates. It’s the person meant for you, romantically or platonically.”
“Right, the scary girl once explained it to me,” Inosuke scratched the cheek of his boar head. “I think it’s dumb.”
Zenitsu’s heart dropped. “Dumb?”
Inosuke nodded, his boar head flopping around. “Nobody is made for anyone. Humans are dumb; you’ll go extinct if you’re only willing to be with one specific person.”
Right. It wasn’t even as if Inosuke was wrong. Soulmates were often just the push in the right direction, but you easily could find happiness with other people. More often than not, people simply didn’t bother with finding their partner.
“What if I know who my soulmate is?” Zenitsu asked. He didn’t know for sure, but it was very convenient that Nezuko wore the same patterned kimono as his handkerchief.
Inosuke made a gagging noise. “Monitsu, I rather be stabbed than be your soulmate.”
“I wasn’t talking about you,” Zentisu screeched. “It isn’t as if I want to be soulmates with you, ew.”
They were at a stalemate. How could Inosuke think that he was Zenitsu’s soulmate? Zenitsu had considered that his soulmate might be male, but it didn’t make sense. The handkerchief was very feminine.
Inosuke cocked his head, the big blue eyes of his boar mask trying to reap Zenitsu’s soul. “Who do you think it is?”
“My soulmate?”
Inosuke huffed. “Who else?”
Zenitsu saw this as the opportunity to tease Inosuke a little more. “Who do you guess?”
“Gonpachiro?”
Any sense of triumph and smugness was gone. Zenitsu’s heart dropped into his stomach. “You think it’s Tanjiro!” he screeched.
“You’re always like this starry-eyed damsel in distress around him,” a new voice cut in. A figure loomed over them from behind.
Looking around, he saw Aoi looking down upon them, arms crossed and lips pressed in a stern line. “Why aren’t you two training?”
“Because Chuitsu is weak,” Inosuke snorted.
“Hey, I’m not weak,” Zenitsu protested before addressing Aoi. “And I’m not a starry-eyed damsel in distress around him, and he’s not my soulmate!”
Aoi sneered at him. “Could’ve fooled me. Now, go train or be useful.”
Knowing that ‘being useful’ meant doing chores around the house, Zenitsu hopped off the porch.
Inosuke followed, unsheathing his two swords. “I’m going to beat you up,” he said eagerly.
“No, you won’t!” Zenitsu hadn’t even a chance to unsheathe his own sword. Inosuke lunged at him, his blades barely missing.
“Cut me some slack,” Zenitsu cried, trying to create distance.
“A demon won’t,” Inosuke cackled, his swords coming to a grinding halt against Zenitsu’s. “Let’s see how far you’ll get!”
Zenitsu somehow outlasted Inosuke. Inosuke complained that it was because he had to fight two opponents. Zenitsu took the shot and mentioned that demons also didn’t play fair.
“You’re getting faster,” Tanjiro remarked.
Zenitsu jumped, any sense of peace disappearing in a blink of an eye. “Were you watching the whole time?”
Tanjiro shook his head. His nose was wrapped, a thick piece of cloth tucked underneath his nostrils.
“How is your nose?”
“Just bruised,” Tanjiro answered. “Shouldn’t be an issue for our next mission.”
Our next mission. It has been the four of them for a while already. He knew that demon slayers often worked in teams, but it still felt strange that they were considered a team.
“It better be; I’ll need you—we’ll need you,” Zenitsu stumbled over his words, making sure to correct them.
“We all need each other,” Tanjiro said, oblivious to Zenitsu’s inner turmoil.
It was useless to fall for Tanjiro, as he wasn’t his soulmate. But Zenitsu liked him very much, feeling comfortable and safe around him. It might be worthwhile if things with Nezuko wouldn’t work out.
***
When Zenitsu was asked to visit Rengoku, he wasn’t sure what to think. He did admire the Hashira, and he had been crying tears of relief when it turned out he would live. He might never return to duty, but he was breathing and living. But they were hardly acquaintances.
Zenitsu knocked on the private room door.
“Come in!” Rengoku’s loud voice was startling; he didn’t even try to be quiet.
Zenitsu pushed open the door, entering the room. It was small, fitted with a bed, a small dresser and two chairs. The curtains were open, letting in the warm sunlight. Rengoku sat upright, leaning into a mountain of pillows. His forehead was bandaged, and bandages peeped from underneath his shirt. However, the man was grinning, hardly looking like someone on the brink of death.
“There you are,” Rengoku said excitedly. “Grab a chair.”
Zenitsu sat down. Was Rengoku dying after all? Was he forcing Zenitsu to break the news to his friends? Tanjiro was still asleep, and Inosuke wasn’t known for his tact. But wouldn’t Aoi or the others be a better fit? They dealt with the injured and death more so than Zenitsu did.
“Tell me about Tanjiro,” Rengoku said.
“What?”
“Tanjiro, what’s he like?” Rengoku repeated.
Well, at least it didn’t seem Rengoku was dying. Zenitsu felt a little better, though he hardly could say that he liked the question.
“He’s kind,” Zenitsu started. He gouged Rengoku’s reaction, but his smile betrayed nothing. “Patient and fearless. He’s also stupidly brave and heroic; he doesn’t stop and think. Which brings us in unnecessary danger. But in the end, Tanjiro is always there to have our back. He’s selfless and does everything to make sure we’re safe. He’s even compassionate towards demons, something I don’t quite get.”
“I knew I was right to ask you.” Rengoku crossed his arms, flinching a little. Zenitsu was amazed he wasn’t in agony, or he hid it well.
“Inosuke could’ve said the same,” Zenitsu pointed out. “Likely in even fewer words.”
Rengoku nodded, micro-expressions showing the pain he was facing. “I’m well aware, but you two seem close, and I needed an account of someone that has worked with him before.”
“Might I ask why?” Zenitsu’s palms were sweaty, though he was no longer nervous. He was a little excited and, honestly, quite envious.
“Mitsuri was once my Tsuguko, but she’s now a Hashira herself. I haven’t found myself a proper successor, but after seeing Tanjiro in battle, I think he will be excellent. But a Hashira doesn’t just have to be skilful; they also have to be a good person.”
Zenitsu’s gut feeling had been right. Rengoku wanted Tanjiro to become his apprentice. Zenitsu had seen the flames coming from Tanjiro’s sword and the elegant movements that followed. Whatever this new technique was, it suited him much better than Water Breathing.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Rengoku sounded genuinely disappointed.
“I mean, why else would you talk with me about Tanjiro, of all people.”
Rengoku once again smiled. “Oh really?” he said, voice loud and overcompensating. “We could’ve talked about soulmates.”
“Soulmates?” Zenitsu blurted out, alarmed by the sudden subject.
“Yes, it’s a fascinating subject, isn’t it?” Rengoku’s smile saddened. “Have you met yours?”
Zenitsu wrung his hands together, feeling uncomfortable. Talking with Inosuke about soulmates was much easier, as Inosuke didn’t care. Zenitsu, despite his better judgment, trusted him. While Rengoku had saved his life, they weren’t friends. “Yes.”
“So have I,” Rengoku said, his smile faltering. “I’ve always imagined it would be wonderful, that just everything clicked. But it hasn’t for me.”
Somehow, it seemed hard to believe that Rengoku, of all people, struggled with his soulmate. He was a little loud and out there, but he was kind. Zenitsu imagined most women, even men, could do much worse.
“Why are you telling me?” Zenitsu asked.
Rengoku laughed. It wasn’t the forced smile he had sported before. “Admittedly, there is no clear answer, but I’ve heard that one of the Kamado siblings is likely your soulmate.”
Zenitsu felt a little sweaty. He hadn’t told anyone who he thought it was. Inosuke could’ve figured it out, but he didn’t peg him as that smart. “I think it’s Nezuko,” Zenitsu said, patting the pocked with the handkerchief.
“Think?”
Zenitsu sighed. “I know most soulmate things are all superstition and such, and she’s adorable and kind. However, I don’t feel the… attraction. Maybe it’s a matter of time. It doesn’t help I have no idea what her soulmate item is, and she’s currently a demon.”
“Why not just ask her? She is at least your friend,” Rengoku pointed out.
While Zenitsu had seen Rengoku being serious during battle, he was jolly and loud outside that. Hearing wise words coming from him was jarring. “It sounds like you speak from experience.”
“Not quite,” Rengoku answered, the melancholy returning. Whoever Rengoku’s soulmate was, they weren’t making him happy. “But, talk to her, and tell Tanjiro I would like to speak to him once he’s up and going.”
Zenitsu got up from his chair. Lingering at the door opening, he realised he hadn’t even said goodbye. Gramps would kill him for his lack of manners.
“Thank you for your time.” Zenitsu bowed a little, not daring to strain himself too much. He might be well enough to move around, but his body was still sore. “And the advice.”
“Can’t leave you stumbling around like that. I would do the same for Senjuro.”
“Senjuro?” Zenitsu hadn’t heard that name before.
“My little brother,” Rengoku explained, his eyes twinkling. “He might be a little younger than you guys. He’s a sweet kid.”
Zenitsu hadn’t known that Rengoku had a younger brother. Admittedly, Rengoku was the first Hashira he had a one-on-one conversation with that wasn’t Shinobu terrorising him. The Hashira almost didn’t feel like people to him, so things like parents and siblings felt foreign.
“I can only imagine.” Zenitsu ignored the pang of jealousy. Times like these made him feel awfully lonely. There was gramps, of course, but he always had been Zenitsu’s teacher first and parental figure second. He always had a rocky relationship with Kaigaku, another of gramps disciples, and his parents never returned for him. Of course, there was his soulmate, but he wasn’t even sure if it was Nezuko. Not to mention, Nezuko could have his back, but only in a fight. He still had trouble communicating with her, so anything beyond that was off the table.
He wished Rengoku goodbye and returned back to his own wing. Inosuke was still running amock, making himself a nuisance. Tanjiro was still lying, his breathing steady but awfully quiet.
“What did he want to know?” Aoi asked, acting all innocent and uninterested. Zenitsu was surprised she hadn’t been eavesdropping; he would’ve.
“He wants to take Tanjiro on as an apprentice,” Zenitsu whispered. Though Tanjiro was still asleep, he didn’t want to accidentally have him overhear them.
“Really?” Aoi smiled for a brief moment before adopting a more serious expression. “Of course he would; Tanjiro actually works hard.”
She wasn’t wrong. Tanjiro might be the hardest worker Zenitsu knew. And training underneath a Hashira would bring him closer to reaching his goal; defeating Muzan and giving Nezuko her life back.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Aoi asked, arms crossed and eyebrows drawn together in a slight glare.
“I should work harder to keep up?” Zenitsu suggested.
“Yes, so please, for all that’s sacred, drag Inosuke outside to spar before I commit murder.”
***
Inosuke had given him a good trashing during their sparring session, forcing staff members to patch him up. He had lost count of the bruises he had collected over the last couple of days; too many, in his opinion.
Zenitsu headed to the medical wing, stopping at the door opening. Inosuke’s loud snoring filled the otherwise eery silence. With the sun having set, Nezuko had left her box and had taken the chair next to Tanjiro’s bed. It was her comfy chair with plush seating and a wide seat so she could sit cross-legged on it. During the day, nobody used it, saving it for her.
“Hey.” Zenitsu walked up to her, leaning against Tanjiro’s bed frame to face her. “You’re okay?”
Nezuko let out a small noise. Over time, Zenitsu had gotten better at recognising the small noises she made. She was obviously sad and frustrated.
“He won’t wake up any faster,” Zenitsu said.
Nezuko huffed and glared at him.
“Should we go on a walk? I think it would do you good to get some fresh air.”
He had offered ever since he had gotten out of bed when he wasn’t too tired or sore. She had declined every time. It was as if she knew he wanted to talk, though he had offered before Rengoku had given him advice.
“I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Zenitsu was sure he had lost several years of his life. His loud scream didn’t rouse either of his friends. Rengoku stood at the door opening. He was bare-chested but for the tightly wrapped bandages around his chest. He had put his hair together in a ponytail, making it look a little less wild. Despite the late hour, he seemed very cheerful and not tired.
“Look after him?” Zenitsu asked.
He was distracted by Nezuko moving. The young teen unfolded her legs from underneath her, carefully lowering herself to the ground.
Rengoku and Nezuko switched places, exchanging a small high-five. Zenitsu was surprised that these two were on friendly terms, as the Hashira had shown their distaste towards Nezuko because she was a demon. But it seemed that at least Rengoku had changed his mind.
Nezuko grabbed the sleeve of Zenitsu’s haori and tugged him along. They left the medical wing and eventually stepped outside onto the porch. It was a little nippy but otherwise perfectly lovely weather. The sky was clear, showing off the stars across the sky.
“Since when did you and Rengoku get close?” Zenitsu asked, unable to stifle his curiosity.
He looked down, trying to read Nezuko’s expression. She was frowning, clearly deep in thought. After several hand gestures and grunts, she ended up sighing in defeat.
Noting she had pointed at the sky and herself, Zenitsu tried to guess. “You visited him during the day?”
Rengoku’s room had heavy curtains, blocking out the sunlight if needed. It would be safe for her to be there.
Nezuko nodded.
“Why would you visit him?” Zenitsu expected her to distrust the Hashira, especially after one of them stabbed her unprovoked.
More gestures and small sounds. Zenitsu tried but couldn’t figure it out for his life. “To lecture him?”
Nezuko shook her head furiously. She made a snapping-like gesture with her hand, like a crocodile in old picture books. It finally hit him. “To talk.”
When Nezuko nodded, Zenitsu started to feel sick. Did Rengoku tell her that Zenitsu could be her soulmate? Was this why she was willing to take a walk with him? Zenitsu was still mentally preparing for this conversation, trying to sort out his feelings. “About me?” he eventually asked.
Nezuko looked up at him, not even bothering to hide her frown. Clearly, it wasn’t him.
“About Tanjiro?”
Nezuko’s face lit up.
“The apprenticeship?”
Nezuko hummed, her eyes crinkling with mirth. She looked proud.
“Oh, you convinced him to take Tanjiro on, didn’t you?”
“Uhum,” Nezuko muttered. There were more gestures and arm movements as she tried to tell her story. She stopped at times, giving Zenitsu a chance to recap her story and get confirmation if he was right or wrong.
“He asked me, too, to tell him something about Tanjiro,” Zenitsu told her. They had settled onto the porch overlooking a vegetable patch. “Though I don’t think I sold him as well as you did.”
Nezuko cocked her head and made a noise that sounded like ‘and?’. Zenitsu recapped what he told Rengoku, wondering if this was the moment to bring up the soulmate thing. It would make sense to mention what they had talked about; it wouldn’t even be a lie.
“There is something else I want to talk about,” Zenitsu said, wringing his hands together.
He froze as Nezuko nodded, her eyes lit up with excitement. Rengoku must have told her, that bastard. Judging by her reaction, she was alright with them being soulmates, but Zenitsu only felt dread. Though he wanted nothing else but to find and love his soulmate, it was hard to do now. They wouldn’t have an equal relationship until Muzan was killed.
Nezuko leaned closer, their knee brushing. Zenitsu’s was a bundle of nerves, feeling his heartbeat spike as she pressed her hand flat against his chest. Then she proceeded to tap his chest, right where his heart was. He expected her to point at her chest, but instead, she looked towards the medical wing. She intertwined her fingers.
“What…” Zenitsu tried to make sense of it all. “My heart?”
Nezuko shook her head. She made a few hand gestures before eventually reaching into her kimono. Zenitsu’s eyes were glued to her hands. Was she going to grab her soulmate item?
If it was her soulmate item, it definitely didn’t belong to Zenitsu. It was a hair clip with a pink and green butterfly. It looked familiar. “Is it Shinobu?
Nezuko shook her head.
“Kanao?”
Nezuko nodded, holding the hair clip close to her chest.
“I’m a little confused.” Zenitsu took out his own soulmate item. The fabric was getting a little thin, but the pattern was still recognisable. He handed it to Nezuko. “This is mine; I thought it belonged to you.”
Nezuko was very mindful of her claws. She handled the handkerchief with grace, moving it around. Her eyes widened in surprise before they softened. She was looking a the embroidered letters.
“It was your father’s, right?” Zenitsu asked.
To his surprise, Nezuko shook her head. She handed him back the handkerchief.
“You know more,” Zenitsu whined, trying to push it back into her hands. “Tell me.”
Nezuko firmly shook her head. She got up, smoothing out her kimono. She offered him her hand. Likely, it was a temporary truce.
“Okay, but please tell me later.” Zenitsu accepted her hand and let himself be hauled up. It was still odd to see how much strength there was in such a small body.
They headed back to the medical wing. Rengoku was nodding off into his chair, Tanjiro very much still asleep.
Nezuko gently tapped Rengoku’s shoulder. The young man startled awake but didn’t even lift a finger at her. He blinked a couple of times, rubbing his eyes. “I suppose I should go to bed. Have a good night.”
Rengoku left the room, his gait slow and uneven. Walking must still hurt.
“Don’t make it too late,” Zenitsu told Nezuko, who sat back down in her chair.
Nezuko offered him a small smile, as far as that was possible.
Though he was exhausted, Zenitsu’s mind was running in circles. There was something Nezuko knew, and Zenitsu couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.
***
Upon meeting Nezuko, Zenitsu assumed she was his soulmate. If she was, it likely would be a one-sided soulmate. It could happen, though it was pretty rare.
“Is it okay for Nezuko to be out on her own?” Zenitsu asked.
They had split up, Tanjiro and Zenitsu setting up camp while Nezuko and Inosuke were fetching wood and maybe some berries.
“I trust Inosuke,” Tanjiro said. “And I want to give her as much freedom as possible. It wasn’t her choice to become a demon.”
It could still take years before they defeated Muzan; if anyone did, it likely wasn’t them. Though, seeing that Rengoku almost died from fighting an Upper Moon, he wasn’t so sure if anyone was strong enough.
“You know I fight at your side as long as possible,” Zenitsu told him. Someone had to ensure that Tanjiro wouldn’t get himself killed, and he trusted Tanjiro to keep him safe.
“Really?” Tanjiro’s face lit up before his smile faltered. “Why?”
“Why what?” Zenitsu asked, feeling a little hot.
Tanjiro shook his head. “I know that you don’t want to be a demon slayer, so that’s a big promise to make. Why?”
Zenitsu was unsure how to answer. Tell him about Nezuko or admit he cares about Tanjiro? The former felt a safer bet; after all, it wasn’t even necessarily farfetched to think that Nezuko was his soulmate. “I think Nezuko is my soulmate.”
“How do you know?” Tanjiro asked.
There was an unspoken rule that you didn’t share your soulmate item with anyone who wasn’t family. There was always the risk of people impersonating your soulmate, claiming that item as theirs. However, Zenitsu knew he wasn’t particularly sought after. Nobody would fake being his soulmate. If anything at all, they would lie to him.
He handed Tanjiro the handkerchief. The pink fabric had faded a little over time and was well used, seeing as Zenitsu tended to cry a lot.
“Oh,” Tanjiro said, inspecting the handkerchief. Zenitsu could hear his rather loud heartbeat. “Why does it say TJ in the corner?”
Zenitsu shrugged. He had no idea; Nezuko had told him it hadn’t belonged to her father, but who else? “It could’ve belonged to your father?”
Tanjiro’s smile was slightly off, but Zenitsu couldn’t place it. He shouldn’t have mentioned Tanjiro’s dad or family, to begin with. Zenitsu grieved the parents he didn’t have, but Tanjiro grieved a family he used to have.
“What if she isn’t your soulmate?” Tanjiro asked.
Ah, his worse fear had come true. Tanjiro likely knew what Nezuko’s soulmate item was and doubted it belonged to Zenitsu. “I still will be there. She deserves to get her freedom back. Though I might not be the best slayer out there, please tell me if I ever become a nuisance!”
“A nuisance? We would be dead if it weren’t for you.” Tanjiro snorted. “You’re as fast as lightning, and you have keen senses. In time, I’m sure you’ll be able to become a Hashira. You should stop underestimating yourself. ”
“I’m too lazy to become a Hashira,” Zenitsu admitted, letting some self-deprecation shine through. “You and Inosuke have a much more promising future.”
Inosuke and Nezuko’s return was audible from miles away. Zenitsu winced as he heard twigs snap underneath his feet. One of them must be stomping around, not caring to be quiet.
“They’ve returned?” Tanjiro asked, cocking his head. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Be happy; you don’t have to listen to Inosuke being an actual boar.” The stomping stopped. Zenitsu picked up on a quiet tread—no, two quiet treads. Nezuko and Inosuke were walking, not quite in sync, though the average person wouldn’t notice.
“They’re going to surprise us,” Zenitsu warned.
Not much later, the two jumped from the bushes, trying to make growling-like noises. Zentisu jumped only a little, still tending the fire. Tanjiro was cleaning his blade, not even faltering.
“You’re terrible prey!” Inosuke protested.
Nezuko pouted, making a disappointed noise.
“Zenitsu could hear you coming from miles,” Tanjiro was grinning, though he tried to hide it. “A predator that can’t be quiet will not catch its prey.”
Inosuke grumbled, sitting down next to Zenitsu. They had dropped off the wood on the outer edge of their camp, giving them enough space to sit around the fire. He grabbed a piece of poultry, tearing a piece off.
Zenitsu grimaced. He wasn’t the prime example of being prim and proper, but Inosuke had the manners of a wild animal.
***
Zenitsu tried to drown out the loud music by trying to merge with a large, red-leaved tree. They had stumbled upon this town as they were returning from a mission. The townsfolk had invited them to join the festivities, and Zenitsu had lost a one-to-two vote.
A young teen in a green kimono approached him carefully. She had been especially forceful in begging them to stay, though Zenitsu still didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if there was a lack of people; hundreds of bodies dancing off-beat to the live music.
“You should join us,” the girl offered out her hand. She had light brown hair and eyes and a small, pouty mouth. She seemed to be Nezuko’s age. “It’s fun.”
“I rather not,” Zenitsu admitted.
“Sitting here moping isn’t fun either.” The girl crossed her arms.
It wasn’t, and annoyingly, his friends had abandoned him to join the fray. Zenitsu didn’t mind the dancing, though he was rubbish at it. But it was the noise that would overwhelm him. “I’m not a good dancer.”
“You don’t have to be good; it’s about having fun,” the girl explained. “One dance, please?” The girl pouted, looking up at him with big, brown eyes. He was well aware she was tricking him into agreeing.
“Fine,” Zenitsu said. “One dance.”
The girl took hold of his Haori and dragged him along. Not only was the music loud, but the drums were also off-beat. Though, it was the dancers who were the worst offenders. Hundreds of them, all out of sync.
It seemed that the dancing required little skill. Only their hands and lower arms touched, and the dancers circled each other with the occasional spin. She laughed as he spun her around, a bit unsteady on her feet afterwards.
“See, it’s fun,” the girl said. They almost bumped into another couple. They were two young teenage boys, looking very happy to get rid of each other.
Zenitsu’s new partner was blushing furiously. “I’ll pass you on in a second, okay?” Zenitsu said, looking around the crowd to find someone his age. They awkwardly circled around each other, not quite in sync with the rest.
The young teen wanted to say something but was taken away by another young girl. Zenitsu was left with an older woman, looking like an older version of the previous girl. Zenitsu was a little embarrassed dancing with a much older person.
“You have a surprisingly good rhythm,” the woman remarked. Her pace was slower and less all over the place. She even spun him, making his stomach flutter.
“I’ve good ears,” Zenitsu admitted, narrowly avoiding collision with another pair. The woman laughed, pulling him out of harm’s way. “Might I ask, what kind of festival is this?”
Before the woman could answer, he was passed along to someone else. He switched partners so often that he struggled to keep track of them. He mostly stuck with people his age, which was odd. He saw Nezuko dancing with young children, adults and even the elderly.
Zenitsu was once again passed along. He almost bumped into his next partner, stopped by a gentle hand against his hip. His discomfort faded as he recognised Tanjiro’s heartbeat.
“Hi,” Zenitsu breathed, taking a step back. Though he didn’t mind being close to Tanjiro, he knew it could give others the wrong idea.
“Hi,” Tanjiro said, pressing his hand against Zenitsu’s. They circled each other, switching hands after a bit. “Any idea what’s going on?”
Zenitsu giggled as Tanjiro spun him around. “No idea; I’ve tried to ask, but every time I get interrupted.”
“That happened to me too.” Tanjiro, surprisingly, kept up with the pace of the beat. He danced around Zenitsu like a butterfly, not unlike his Water Breathing technique. He was an exquisite dancer. “I feel ss someone’s prized possession being shown around.”
Zenitsu chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing. But I must admit, this isn’t so bad if only the drums weren’t out-sync.”
Tanjiro cocked his head a little. “Can’t hear it,” he said. “Though the smell is horrible.”
Zenitsu could only imagine, with all the sweaty bodies being in close vicinity.
It took surprisingly long for anyone to interrupt them. Once again, all his partners were a blur of faces before he ended up with Nezuko, her hand gently lying in his. Her cheeks were ruddy, and her eyes were crinkling. She was panting behind her bamboo muzzle, but it hardly seemed to deter her.
“Having fun?” Zenitsu asked, spinning her around once, twice, trice. He heard her soft giggles, her slippers slapping against the packed dirt.
Nezuko hummed once she faced him again. Her hair was done up, a once elegant bun now frizzy and messy.
“Good, I—” before he could say another word, Zenitsu and Nezuko was intercepted by another couple.
Zenitsu’s feet were sore by the time the music petered out. The crowd cheered, giving the musicians loud applause. They dispersed into little groups, and Zenitsu sought out his friends. Inosuke had sat down, rubbing his bare feet. He, thankfully, had left his boar mask off to not scare the kids.
“Enjoyed yourself?” Zenitsu asked, sitting down next to him. He rested his head against the tree, feeling more at peace away from the crowd.
Inosuke grumbled a little under his breath. “I lasted the longest out of all of you guys.”
“You probably did,” Tanjiro said. He sat down next to Zenitsu, their knees bumping. “I’m exhausted.”
Nezuko also joined them. Zenitsu felt sleepy and comfortable nestled between Inosuke and Tanjiro. New footsteps jolted him awake, eyes flying open in alert.
The elderly lady they were staying with was approaching them. She hardly looked winded, though her kimono was a little crumpled. “Did you guys have fun?”
“It was fun!” Tanjiro said, mustering too much cheer. “I wonder, what kind of festival is this? I didn’t hear what it was.”
“Our annual soulmate festival,” the elderly lady said, clasping her hands together in front of her. “There is the belief you’re automatically attracted to your soulmate. So we dance as much as possible so we might unconsciously gravitate towards our soulmate. It’s how I found my wife.”
Zenitsu never had heard about this belief. Admittedly, there were so many superstitions that it was hard to keep track of. Thinking about the dance, he likely had danced with all of them. Still, the only ones he recalled dancing with were his friends, especially Tanjiro. He actually had been able to talk with Tanjiro.
“But what about soulmate items?” Zenitsu asked.
The elderly woman smiled gently. “It’s a tool, but not everyone gets their soulmate item, but they do have a soulmate out there. And sometimes, an item is so common that it is hard to find your match.”
Well, at least Zenitsu’s wasn’t overly common. The pink checkers and embroidered letters made it very personal.
“We should come back next year, right, Nezuko?” Tanjiro asked.
Nezuko nodded. A flower was tucked behind her ear, a couple of strands having escaped her up-do. She was radiating, and Zenitsu only could imagine how full of life she would be if she no longer was restricted by sunlight and prejudice.
“You’re forever welcome,” the woman said. “The more, the merrier. Maybe you can find your soulmate among our youth, and if not, we do serve a delicious meal afterwards.”
Zenitsu was sure he wouldn’t have to look further for his soulmate. If he had to believe her, it was obvious that he had made the wrong conclusion; he had been eyeing the wrong Kamado sibling. After all, he had danced as much with Nezuko as with Inosuke. It had been Tanjiro he had danced with the most.
Zenitsu didn’t want to leave, but he reluctantly let himself be hauled up by Tanjiro. He helped Nezuko up and even offered her a piggyback ride towards the banquet. Unfortunately, Inosuke took up his offer and jumped onto his back, adding many kilos of pure muscle.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Zenitsu complained. Nonetheless, he followed the lady towards where the rest of the villagers were gathered.
Tanjiro walked next to him, Nezuko on his back. He offered him a pitying smile. All Zenitsu managed to muster was a grimace, ignoring Inosuke’s complaints they were going too slow. He could hear the elderly lady chuckle, shaking her head slightly.
***
Zenitsu was in a world of pain. Nothing made sense and having done a solo mission had made everything worse. It had given him too much time to overthink, something already tended to do too much.
“I just don’t get it,” Zenitsu said, running his hands through his hair. “Nezuko isn’t my soulmate, fine. But Tanjiro knowns what my item is, yet he hadn’t said anything. So if it’s neither of them, who is it? One of their children.” He froze, feeling the blood drain from his face. “Oh god, don’t let it be one of their children.”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Inosuke snorted, sounding pig-like because of his boar mask. It never stopped sounding creepy. They had crossed paths when returning from their respective missions. They hadn’t said anything but automatically joined up and travelled the rest of the way back to the Butterfly mansion. “Why don’t you ask it himself?”
“That isn’t how it works—I would make a fool out of myself if I told him, and if it turned out I’m wrong.”
They entered the mansion grounds. It was pretty quiet, meaning that, likely, mainly the staff was there. Most demon slayers caused quite a ruckus, making the place quite lively.
The front door was thrown open, and Aoi hurried outside, making a beeline for them. She must have seen them arriving.
“Guys, you have to see this,” she grabbed their wrist, dragging them along. “It’s Nezuko!”
Zenitsu would have assumed something was wrong if her tone had been different. But Aoi actually sounded excited.
They walked around the mansion towards the backyard. Nezuko and Kanao were sitting on the porch, Kanao talking in hushed whispers. Nezuko was smiling, making small noises in either agreement or disagreement.
“It’s daylight,” Zenitsu said, coming to the sudden realisation. “It isn’t—”
Kanao stopped talking. The two girls started at them, seemingly caught off guard by their appearance. Nezuko got off the porch, rushing towards them.
Zenitsu saw she was still a demon, with her sharp claws and fangs, but the sunlight didn’t burn her. She actually seemed to glow, though it might be the happiness.
“What happened?” Zenitsu asked.
“Tanjiro,” Nezuko managed to say, struggling to find words before giving up. She returned back to sign language. She pointed to herself and made a fighting motion before making claw-like motions with her hands.
“You had to fight a demon?” Zenitsu asked, looking her up and down. “To protect Tanjiro, which meant you couldn’t find shade?”
Nezuko nodded.
“That’s great,” Zenitsu cooed.
Poor Kanao was harassed by Inosuke, who immediately wanted to fight her to become stronger. Zenitsu didn’t understand why Inosuke wasn’t fretting over Nezuko, but he knew it wasn’t Inosuke’s style. He cared but didn’t show it in an overbearing way like Zenitsu.
“I… would you like to take a walk?” Zenitsu asked, offering his hand.
Nezuko took it and let herself be guided to a quieter place in the garden. Zenitsu’s heart was pounding. Maybe he would finally get answers to his questions.
“Figuring Tanjiro isn’t saying anything; you might be able to answer my question,” Zenitsu said, stopping at the small pond. “My soulmate is Tanjiro, isn’t he?”
Nezuko nodded. She took out a similar-looking handkerchief, unfolding it to show the initial. There was a simple N embroidered on the same pale checkered fabric. “Mine.”
Zenitsu swallowed nervously. “But he never said anything,” he hated how fragile he sounded.
Nezuko smiled patiently. She pouted a little while going over her thoughts, clutching her handkerchief. “Scared,” she said.
“He’s scared?”
Nezuko nodded. She patted Zenitsu’s heart, waving around the handkerchief. Then she mentioned Tanjiro by name, pointing at herself. Then, she patted her own heart and shook her head.
Zenitsu frowned. He placed his hand on his heart. “Soulmate item?”
Nezuko nodded.
“I know I have Tanjiro’s soulmate item, but he isn’t sure he has mine?”
“Hmm,” Nezuko said, nodding.
Zenitsu would be devastated if it turned out that he had been wrong once again. Maybe it was a one-sided soulmate, and he figured Tanjiro knew about these feelings. Tanjiro likely didn’t want to give him unnecessary hope, only to eventually realise the soulmate item didn’t belong to Zenitsu. There was still the chance that his soulmate was someone completely different, or Tanjiro or Nezuko’s children.
“He will never tell until he’s sure,” Zenitsu said. “To avoid hurting my feelings. Which means I have to talk with him.”
“Yes,” Nezuko said. She tugged his haori, heading back in the direction where they had left Inosuke and Kanao. “Save Kanao?”
“Yes, let’s save Kanao for now. Any idea where Tanjiro is?”
Nezuko shrugged. He might have been off training with Rengoku, figuring Nezuko was safe here. While Rengoku still had to take care of himself, he was well enough to train Tanjiro.
“I will talk with him once he’s back,” Zenitsu told her, though he knew it was a lie. Though it would be sensible to do, Zenitsu feared Nezuko was wrong. He wouldn’t be mad if Zenitsu wasn’t his soulmate, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. After all, he could do much worse than having Tanjiro as his life partner, romantically or platonically.